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"tn"
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i
4Z4
FOJiE/Cy PEntODICALS.
[D«.,
protection: the second from good f^ding^ "" ^^* P*rt
of both parties; and the ihird, while JC aimed ftt fclldv-
ifl^ the strmned relations between France ind Germany
in Morocco, has only paftinlly succeeded. It has slopped
ihe troubles fof a timr, but there ettll exists a hostile
leeling in both nations. " Causal vi at ParU in tSi4>"
by Dc; RichcmoDt, is an accoufkt oi~ thnt celebrated Car-
dinal's troubles in Prance, of his ccUtions with Pope ami
Emperor, and of his attitude towards the Concordat,
L' Fiedler gives u^ an interesting tkcich of the vast
amount ©f work undertaken by the Internationai Con-
grcsa, In order to check the ravages of tuberculosis.
From October 2 to 7, sessions, attended by doctors from
all over the world, were held at ParU. arid the most im-
portant questions concerning this distaic «cre treated],
Annaltsdf Phihicphit CAr/Ztrnri^ (Ocx..}i An editorial announce-
ment^ which ^s an able exposition of the principle^, on
which, from its inatittitJcnn the maEaiin* has worked at
the task of doctrinal synthesis and construction, affirana
iU determination to conlinue the past policy 10 the full
exercise of the iniellectual liberty which is not aionc
compatible with* but a}so the truest foundation of, ob«di>
ence to ipiriiual authority- M. 3'abbe Birot, Vicar-
General of the diocese of Albi. sketches |h« rr!/t which
at present devolves on religious philosophy. M. T.
Duh«m ^pcns a rejoinder to a ciilicifim passed <^ii serine
pf hitt views eonuerning questions of natural philosophy
by M- Abel Ray in the Revuf dt MerafJij'iigiit ti dt
MotaU. The gist of M, Ray's striclurvs was that H.
Duhem allowed his f^ith lo dictate his philosophy,
M. F, Mallei examines the works of Cardinal Deschempt
to prove that this Belgian Rcdemptoriit, Archbishop, and
Cardinal, sixty ycar& a^tr, maintainrd (he chief apolo-
getic theses which recently have been so widely attacked
at novelties, when propounded by MM- Blondel, L4-
bartllonnitrei and their a^^ociatira.
La QuiHSMM (iri Oct): A review of the phiJosophical world
of the present day is written in ihia number by MlchcJ
Salomon. The greater part of the article is taken up
with non-Cathohc philosophical thought, e.^peGiA]ly with
the aystcm of PositiviMn that has sprung up (roiu the
THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
., .. ^
,,'■■■ ' I <
MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF
General I^iterature and Science
PUBUSHED BY THE PAUUST FATHERS, ]
VOL. LXXXIl.
OCTOBBRj 1905. TO MARCH. 1906.
NEW YORK I
THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLiq WOKLD.
tao West 60th Steebt.
1906i
CERTAINTY IN RELIGION.
By Rev. HENRTiRvWYMAN, Paulist.
" EipecLtlljr lulled for dlsirO)[mci[i.>rT^aq£Ju>aiCaitioIIu."i^-«^4rc Afd/^.
" The aulhor ii i clenr-c^ ^d Sli^n^f.pirsiMieiKtii.akv.'",i^^m. Sat. Unittt.
" Ctrtam/ji h Rtii^iftt is proitounced by contpeieni mutboHij lo be one o( the bear apolo-
gedo ihal has been publiabed In yein.*' — /WtfnunrfarW Catko^.
"Ad HiteUenr boob for ihe Ctihollc iq pur Lnto (he handEof hli PrDTeiidnr ncigbhor."—
N, y. Fnemam'i J^umai.
"Thia Urile book ti cklculaled to do much good unoog noD-CAtbolLei/' — Wtttirm Waltk-
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" An #Am«T ple&H cleirly and pliJnl/ wrillcn^ for Ihe Cilhobc Failb." — /riiA Mamtkir.
" The bnolc bos b loDC uE cU^iry Hboal Ir nol caminqn lo lucb unprelenlloua volume!, iM
M vrlll appetl inosl strongly to penons ol educKlon/' — Am. Cath. QuarUrtj.
"In corapeiHElveLy biimU compua Fulhcr Wymin bis E'^cn rekAona for the fulh ihil ia
in blm, and ihej' m reuou ibmt Abould prove convinciPK !□ unprejudiced iiupda. , Hli
DMlhod is direct and icllinf." — lAvtrf^et CoithclU Timts.
" ll 13 desUncEl lo do Ji vh)1 Hmoupt of good, if U Is made kuomi and judiciously dJMri-
buUidby Thephal on Lbe misaion." — Cathelit l/nivmil;/ Bulltfin.
Paper, I O oents per oopy. Postage, 3 cents extra.
tt it it ^ At At
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THE COLUMBUS PRESS,
120-122 West 6oth Street, New York.
137460
CONTENTS.
Autliia-Huogaf 7- — RtTt^ Htra-y, , 47
Brother of McTcr, The ,—/«■!> Drake, i^B
CambridgE Hifitdry, Thf, ind rhe
Ktench RevalulLon. — famrs J. Fox,
D.D., .,,... 51
Church ind Hat Sainfi, The,— /am/J/.
Aflx, /?./>., . , . - 475' f'Sl
ColuOkbldD Reddirte: L'aJoD, The, 137, aSa.
418, 571, 718, 859
" Come O'er ind Help IJs.^'— Movant
Flfithtr 311
CuircBt Evtnls, loi, 241, 390, 537, 68j, 8r7
Danny'i Fridaj- — Gilbtrt Turntr^ 74
Dowatlde Celebnuiona, The.^Jf. ^-
Quinlan. ..,.-. aaj
EvalutL4>n oE 1 S«:ialiil, The.— JIT. P.
Qfim/aii, fS9
Followen of Dorcas.—*, F. Quinlaty 56
Foreign PerjodLcals, ija, ^74. 4x>f 5^
709,^50
FicDch Ca[ho1ic9» The SdcIaE ActivllT
o\.—Max TfrmatM, LL.D., . . 577
Friedrlch fJieluche, Sludies 00.— M- D.
Pt"t, 317, S^^<^"c». 773
Goldwm Smiih flnd rhr Mab QueatLon.
— Mrv.UorranH.SIlMJy, . . 641
Hiblneion, Willlini. aod Kla <'CdB-
tATX."—/Cothtri>u Br/^. . . 5S7
Hex tjdjibip. — Katktrini Tjntam,
=5. '7^1 33'. 4^ ^'" 734
HlTcd Weddinj Gutmenta — /M>rr*
Dr^ki. ..,,., 67a
H«If Houscor Lsreto, T^K.—Btrtroiid
L. Cewavj. C.S.P., . . 199
Hope Ji A Fariar of RerigiOn, — f?.
Tvtrell. S./, IM
Imogen md DcsdemaDa. — A. W. Cerpe. y^
IreliTid, RefoTe Croni«e]l Cvuie to. —
iViliitmt F. Detim/ty, . , , 80
Tlaly, The N«it Indualrtal.— /. ^.
Moitagkarf 6S
Lfl Brai-The Poei of " La Pefile Bre-
t*ffne."— /tf«^* i'MH. Ph.D., . 787
Le£Fnda of Valais.— .^/nfj Repplier, . stn
LcCier ro IDe Ediiort Ah ^ 3)45
Life itid «oDey,— »'*//«-■ /, ^VrSv.
''*■'' 433.001, 7*4
Uodero PttsccuCioa, h.—G. If. T., . 364
Uodtin TendeDry-H A^ and Eta Correc-
\ivi-.—/onfk MiiSsrley, C.S.P.. . 369
NdEuralaeas ot ChrialitniEr, Mr. Till-
luck on ti,e.—fVi!/bim I.. Sm//ivait,
C.S.P. 5^7
New Boolci, iia, 3^1. *ai, 547, 694, S»?
Nk^hl EO a TencmeDl, A.—Jt. F. Qmiti-
ian 807
Norwar dD*l Swedcdt MEaaioDA \a.^-Ab-
h^ Frlix fftein, .... I
Open^tfindedueu —foi'ph McSorley,
C.SF 7J*
Plain-Ch&itt, The RenoidEJoa oL—Ed-
rnund G Hiirltt, ^ 3d6, jOl
PoHlble Calendar, fy.^Geergt M.
SearU. C.S.F., . . . . ^39
Prajar ol Chrial, Tlte.— Ctorgt Tymii,
S-! 446.796
Si- IgnaEma of VMjQ\x.^Wiii{am Bar-
ry, D.D. .11
SE Palrkk, PrafuTor Burr's Life of.—
/amn f. Fox, D.D . ... 145
Science-PtlloEaphj, Mr. UalltH^k aitd
Ih*.— /ff*M r. Priscfi/, S-T.L. . jat
SwcEchlne, Madaine, and Her Frlendir —
flaii.M.M.MixxwtHSeott, . . 1O6
Concert, The.— J^*i.fjV*^™>ift/ff/jjt,
Mateacrra lo Turkey, On iitt.—/ak» {r-
rom* Rocney, 50]
Sicnilao, The. ..... 377
POETRY,
67
Sower, The,— Aff'An-iif* Brigj, , . 79
" Yea, Let Him take All."— .Jr. M. Wit-
/rid. O.S.D 7M
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
Addmiei : HEiioxiCal, PolfiiciE. Socio.
ioflca], ...... 839
AoieEican Family, The : A Sociological
Problem 415
Anil and o< lliEhtt Animals, Compara^
livE ^ludira ■□ ihr Pfiychulogf oE, . 7^4
A» David and the Sibils Say, , j^^
Blenheureui Jr B, Vianney, Le. TeiiJ-
a:re de Si. Fraa^ii, - 41^
Hleued John u( Avi[a, LflTlert of, . j68
flroiJierVWar, Tlip, . . SJ3
Calitnruia and in WiMinna, rheir lUs-
lory to the Treaty n[ Guadalupe
Hidalgo, ftjs
Caidmal Newman, Addfesses it, with
ilii Replies, cic 70J
Catherine He' Medici and Xht French
Rerormarion S46
Contents
CAtbolicitf Alkd PrOi^rru ia JrvUnd, - 405
ChriHian Duclriae, J.Pll^rs r>D, 96d
C^'istian Uoclnne, ^oEnon, 9<q
CTtntiUtn UiildeD^ Tb«, ■ 'JQ
Ctirlat; iJ)e Hreichez. S«Rir»Da rare^'
every Sunday io the Eccreiiuiical
Vear, - - . . 557
Chronirlo of the Cilgr of Perugia 149?'
IS03, jiJ
CitT, rhc— Th# Hr»pf of DeiDCKTaiT» . ft??
Cqd£o Fr«« MUe, t be Stocr i^f 'he. - 1^6
Credo- or, StnriM jMuBiTjiiive oi ibe
Apotrlei' Creed, . . iti
Diakh Filry TalttAnd Leirends, 131
Devotion loihe Paulon, A Few pimple
■Dd nudn«a-lJle Wa^a of, . %yi
DEvUliOn Io |be Sacred Hearl^ . . 551
Dlplomuy In ihe Inierniilinnal Devel-
opment of Europe A HliloTy ol-
— 1 he SiruEfle iax ITnlvfml Em-
pk'« - 363
DIk L«i;oni lur It Martyr, donahs 1
I'IniiiiuI CirholEque de Paria, . 40E
Doclrineof God, Th* SjB
Hi'ifme de Is Redemption, Le, 6gg
rii'Mihin ManutL h^F Church Wu«k, Thct 410
EcclEilaiClcjl Acf hi lecture.— The Archi*
feciLiTal kcvlew, ... - 563
KducRiLve pToMMt The, -555
Knifllih Mftnyrt, Ll^ei of ihe.^Hariyn
Under Queen Ellubelh, - fS4
Knellflh MnntiiTic Llle, ... - w
KlhlcBof Frjrce, The, - ITS
Eluijp d'HlBtolreelde Thtotogie Poil-
live. . , , .119
Fair Maid ni Greyttonei, The, , 5^i
Fair Mai^Aret : A Pnnrait, . - '^M
Kltiher1>rri, Mn , and GeDr^e tV , . 694
I'rani li^an \.ev*j\A^ in TEallan Art, . R47
Krxd'mMjt ihe WMI, The, , . . ste
'jraniiiiar rif HLtin Sonj. \A
l(-ilihini] ll'illncM, . . '115
iriiiiflrji Crli|'|UH drt FrVtntmeni* de
r.ou'daa. Apparition! el Gufil-
%nm, , 4iS
||'P(T»>iif ih>i I'lni FrtnelKtoi In Urn-
\»\a,. rhn Jiurdfnof Tuvany, ind
III' Nf^Mhtrn Man:h», , ^ - ,1M
Il4in>i|lir nI ^rpari 7^
\\tm\\ t,i\n,'\\\-V\t'H%*^ Fnrecaaterto^ 1^
n LMri'i |)'<Jr"oMh'PM Wh'tae Nimei
nr" WrillB" In 111* Lamti'B Book of
fjf- 8j^
jnrlMt rM>|-Ptvw<ril, Thfi ^ . Hv
Ihlrtllll.Mi'VH ' ' ■ >U
Jij F PiM ''pjfiv«r»l llay>, . . ^ - joo
jiihti MiMfjpr -nd i^i" Irl-h IjuPtflon. . S49
'I'lJii'PP Mp Arn>'h-i Th«. ■ A.iq
h'my* "f Arr ' 704
fpilJii, 13a
fCi'jp ■ Aphi-v'MP'iti, Til A4R
[ 4M jh/ ilr- nifDPPU'Hifi l.tf", ^1 111', - 547
f iir IfHKPp VprPPi A'irkB. 1 hfl AiiloliJO'
Kf'frhT ipf Mapihri von 'lll^lniEi ■ ^4'
I R^lM^ llMflhllnnd* ^'7 A "47t ' ■ ''^
L'EipafH Cbr^lieafee, .... ^u
Lri LrCviuram ; Or, Prcf^^al ioii lor :lv
Cuieol^ouK ..... jD^
L'Ki^oiiF. l-e I eRc. el La [>«tiBecdD
CJoDTordal de iSoi j^
Light for Se« TiDt^ .... ^a
Longlelloo't Hiawatha. . i}i
MafeLlan'a Vorage .\r4oBd i=eWor^d, \y
Matilda, CobDiru of Tusaiir. 164
Umitf^rc faOai>l de J«U'Jjcq;ef
0!jr, Le, ..... 54*
Moral Chr^icDDe, La.<l La Voraiitcra
France, ... 117
Nupfc^ Rule, T hr : Reiit^ the Ancmi
Klalt MivlerDued, .... ^^
Ohi Mtsions. Id lod Out of ibr. . Sj.5
Old Tjmc9 in ibe Colonic ... IJ9
Oiford Cao'eiencrK OD Failh. . jjj
p«rpeiiu| Eccleiiasical C^lendu. h. . 4IJ
Pelfut Pereg'iPiJS <>Q ll>« Magtiei. the-
Letter H E, A D. ii^ . - 3%\
Pi^if Conhantr L«iim d I'Abbf de
rrpurEiLlF, . . . . ^ 367
PlaLQ-Chant and SdIfVDB, , . , i:d
Prophetic tlemem in the Old TestA*
meni. Cmmnictire SindiB In the, 70J
Ptychioil l^np-ttiTlon*. The Tbeorr *1^ «o8
Questman ot the l>ay, , . . . a^j
kcd Romaacc Book. * bt, . . - ^
RelQidiaEioD and RcaaiA-aDn^ . . laa
ReminiHienceB o^ an OblaU ci Si.
Charlei, ...... 171
Re< Ueui. ...... Bjj
RVKo'the River. . , . . . i6fr
SacramcDti. Th« GiaCEofn . , . 117
S(. Cathennc of ^lena «& «ecB ui bee
LeiteiA. r . . . . itj
?^t. Edidnnd, Tbe Hlinw of . . . a£i
SL. Gerald Kaj-:lla. Life, Vjrtnei. aikd
MbracleB of, RcdemplorLH La*-
Brolbev^ ^ . ... 700
SI. lenatiui' Church and Ci>]]e£F. The
FirtI Half Ceniurj of, . - - 5K
Siinta. Lcs: St Frvicoude Borgia. . 70a
Sketches for Scrmoiu for (he Sundays
ind Hi]l7day«ol the V«aT. . 8v*
Spalding VeflT-Book. "he. . . . *4»
S(niT o\ Filly Yeara, A. . . . ^75
Student's Old rertamenL Thr.— Sam-
ijveiDf the BeeiDX^BE^'*' HebfT-
Hliioif, . . . . ^ . &H
^tumuee : Man and Han. . . 417
Sun^mula Philosophia? ScfaoLastkv ad
UlUin Adolroccnlium Se^inaiii
Beatx VaHz dc Honte Uvlbmo
CoiuinData. . . . . n 173
ValFrian PenecutiOB. The, . . ^^
Wettminster Lertwre Sei-ws.— The Tm-
mona lily 0I tbe ^oflL Modem Fie*-
Thoughi. ... sja
Who KiMeJ Sit EdmoEHl Burr GmlfiFr ? Sm
Wild Wbeai : A Domt Rooancf. . ^
Wondcilaod k.W
WnrdE of ^1, f nbcis from his WorLi
and ibF Early Lc^nds, The. . . ^7
THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
Vol. Lxxxil.
OCTOBER. 1905,
Nd 4^7.
MISSIONS IN NORWAY AND SWEDEN.
BY ABHC VZUX KUZIS.
\HF, action of Ihe Pariiamcnt of CliristiajiUt which
severed the lasi bonds thar unucd Sweden and
Norway, has centred upon these iwo kingdcmt
thp Miention of the who[c wcrld. Hut no-
vhcre» we «uppo9c, has this aclion aroused
g.'c^lcf interest than in the United States, because of the
Urge nufnlsM oi betler'Cluss emlgranla which it reccivei itotn
the Scandinavian rountnes.
Th« comp»fative ease and quiet with which thU revotuttcn
was eiTectett mufat have astonislLcd all who arc noi well ac-
qjainied with ^otway. That cmmtry really had nothing in
COfncaOD with Sweden, «Ave the crown of King Otcar and the
coovulfl charf^d with i1» commerciaf inlcrests abroad. Be-
catiie of it* inability to obtain the right to have its awn
special consuls, Norway informed the King of the COfnpJete
l^uiolatioei of the Unioa vid of it« resolve to have a distinct
*^ov«fiiment of lis own. Nor does it attach any very great
im;>9rtaiice to the choice of iti future scvercigr. If the hou£e
of Beroadottc deniei It a Prince, it will aik one of the home
Denmarit If it eKpcTiruceB too jfieut ia dinjculty in fcei:ur-
bg a Kicig, it will juit a> willingly become ■ republic^
Moreover, from a ftenlintenial Mantipoint the leparation £»
ol no greater import that it is from an adminittiative one.
Arbitrarily reunited by the Allied Power:), in 1S15, the Kor
^egiana and the Swedes feci no sympathy for one anoihcr,
j*nd dtlTer decidedly In ideac, customi;, and inFlitution*. In all
C*p|i4|f& •vaj. Tbi MiHiovAiT aceivTT ar 3t^ Paui, tii« Araiti-a
IH THC SIATK Ot NaV VOUC
VOL- UCXXII.— I
■
AffSSIO.yS /A" JVO^lVAy AND SWEDEN. [Oiit^
my travcb 1 have scid^m experienced n mfire complete sense
of (hmge thin ihal which I felt on passing from ChristiaiiU,
Bergen, and Trondhjem \q Slockholm and Upsala. Norway is
eTnphnticAlly xhc most democratic nation of alt Europe; Swe-
den U one of the mo^t arUtocraiic The nobHity, aboUfhcd in
Norway* still wieJds a great tnt^ucncc in Svedcni and the
electoral franchise in the latter hizigdnm is conditiona.1 on an
income of :,ooo crowns^ or about $300. This rc<iiiirenicni ex-
etudes iUe larger pAit of the laboring claas.
We wish to bring out these points of diflerence before we
proceed to The study of the present siate of Catholicism in the
two countriat. We will see thai in the iirst, Norway, that is
to say the more modeiiij the Catholic Church pro&pers best.
The conditions there arc comparatively the same as those
found in comparing Che excellent Mate of Catholicism in the
United States with the crisis throu^^h which the Church is
passing in the oldest countries of Europe.
Norway, which entered the Church in the tenth and elev-
enth centufiea, was violently torn frcm her in Ihe sUiccnth
by the Lutheran kings, who ruled both it and Denm&rk. The
people resisted long and dcsperatcEy, but tinally yielded to
force- Exile and the fear of death extinguished little by lilile
every spark of Catholicism, and from the beginning o[ the
seventeenth, until the iniddle of the mnelcenib century Lu^
theranl^m enjoyed a complete triumph. It was not until July
to, 1845, that the Storthing passed the first law favorable
to disaenters> J^ftct it« passage, Luthcianisin sdll remained
the established religion, but those who did not believe in it
had the right to leave the established church and publicly
worship as their consciences dictated. This same liberty of
religious wor&hip was granted by Denmark lit J&47> but not
until jS6o by Sweden,
The Catholic Church lo6t 00 time iti profiting by this de-
cree of tolerance. The very year in which the law was promul-
gated saw a priest doing misfiionary woik in Chnsiiania whcie,
in the year following, he built a chapel. HccIesJastical juris-
diction over Norway was exercised then by the Hanoverian
Bishop of Osnabruck, to whom belonged the care of all the
missions of Nonhcin Europe, In 1^55. however, Pius IX,
created the Apostolic Prefecture of the North Fole, which com-
i90Sl
M/SSrO/^S IX NOHWAY AXD SlVEDE.W
pnted aJI oF Sc^ndlnAvia, GreenUnd^ Iceland, and the noflbcin
<o^li <A ScotUnd, In j36'j Pfopaganda divided ihis cxuncivc
miuion into lIx j>arls. To Swedm was ^iven a<t ApofloUc
Vi«ar ifid to Norway and Denmark Apostolic Prelects. At
IcR^lh. in 1S92, both Norway And Denmark were raited to the
rank of vicariates apL>slolic with episcopal dignity for ihc i\fi>l
appoinirct — Mfif, von Euch for Denmark and Mgr. Falia* for
Norway. Th«e two prcUtes arc siill laboring most lealously
lor the benefit of their missions.
There arr hopeful aigns that show the progrevs of Caiho-
liciitiD in Norway- That progress is alow certainly, but its rcgo*
Uriiy It mou encouraging. paftit:uUrly when one remembers that
tl d«prn<lM entirely uporj conversions and the newly born, Jninii*
frvtjon. which does »o much to promote the increase in Catho*
Ijciim In the United States, e^nnol be a factor in such increase
in Norway. Far from receiving foreigners, Norway suffers Iho
loM of many ol her children, as la evident to one conversant with
the aationatitEes of thei people of Minnesota and tho Dakota^.
Every year nttmbers of the Catholics converted in Norway
kavc the mother-count ry^ Mgr. FaEite eotripUina that, m i<)0^,
two haDdr«d left Chriitjanla alone. These emigrants are not
Ion to the Church at lar^e, because Ihey remain faithful to
their religion, but their going is a sad loss to the link Nor-
wegi^n Church.
Norway, m 3969, counted two hundred and twenty Caihu-
lica, with one Apostolic Trefect. twelve missi oniric*, nnd leven
rdfgiOtti of Stt Joieph, At thU time there were but two mil*
siOfi* ia Norwfty, one at ChiLslfania and one aX Bergen, and
three in Lapfand, TromiiD, Altengaard, and Hammerfe*!- By
the year tSfjt other missions had been established in rrcdrrk-
stad. Fredrikshald. and Trondhjem. At that time Norway
lta<l Iwerity-thrcr pnesls; 875 lay -Cat holies ; t«ri parochial
vcbooU with i^% pupils; one higher school of Christian dcc>
Idae : five Cat hoi LC hoapitats; and four communities of Sisters,
t'rom the official statistics, published m December, 1904, we
le^TD that at that date there were 2,ho Catholics (out of a
toul population of j.;so,ooo); twenty-two priests. thr«c of
whom are native born; twenty-one chapeb; and thirteen mis-
■iotifl, Et«h nisiion has a Catholic grammar school. Th«
Cutbolks have two hiffh schools — one for boys, the other for
girU; two orphan asyluim^; len hospitals; a training school
4 Missions in Norway and Sweden. [Oct ,
for nurses; two Dovitiates for religious; and a printing and
publishing house which issues Catholic books, apoLogetical and
devotional, as well as tbe St- Olaf, a Catholic weekly news-
paper. The progress of the ChuTch in Norway may be seen
■lore accurately and readily perhaps from this table which
shows its progress during the last seven years:
1893 JpSOO
1^99 io7S
1900 1*650
1901 '»7oo
1902 2,050
1903 2J2S
<904 2,tSO
The fact that there are already three native priests and two
novitiates for religious speaks hopefully for the future, and one
may foresee the day when the Church in Norway, like the
Church in the United States, will be self- supporting. That day
will signalize its complete establishment. Considering present-
day conditions, it would be well, in a general way, if the
Church, without abandoning or neglecting le^s developed
and less civilized peoples, would direct more and more Ihe
efforts of her missionaries to the evangelization of civilized
and more promising countries. Once having sown its seed In
these fertile soils, the true religion will there grow of itself,
unaided by care and nourishment provided by other countries.
When, for example, countries like Norway and Japan have
converts sufficient in number to recruit their own clergy, they
cease to be an expense to the rest of the Church; and they
themselves may, indeed, be able to contribute to the extension
of the faith in other lands. Moreover, no matter how great
may be the zeal or the intelligence of foreign missionaries,
they can never understand so intimately the people nor work
so efficaciously as the zealous and intelligent native born priest.
The Catholic Church in Norway is not yet able to create
its own clergy. On the contrary, she is in need of every man-
ner of help from without. She is dependent still on other
countries for her priests, her religious^ her financial resources.
The liberal contributions of her few children, generally poor
themselves, are insufficient to defray even the cost of matnlaiti*
I905-1
^fIss/o^,'s IX Norway and S^veden.
tng her pri»l$- Several foreign cbarilie» ^kUi h«r and jome'
limes travelers, or lote^gners who have heard of her need, con-
tribute generously. Bui iht greaie&l 4nd the mo*( Tegukr help
tbai ci>iiic& Cu her is th« funds given by ihe Society for ihe
Tropji^ation of the Kaith. Th!» admirablr; society, which Atncri*
ca hi3 begun to underiiand and appreciate, gives ycdily to the
Church jn Kcrway the siitn of 2^.i("'> Iraacs {$5i7oo)j the low*
frsE aum given since iS*>? was jS.ouo francs ($5,&o£)).
The revcnnes o( the mUsioo are not absorbed by the churchci
ftJoD<p for Ihe schools are a weighty burdeii of expense. Since
the country enjoys absnluTc bberty in the mailer of InUmctirn.
Cfttholtcs wrJIh a kern sense of their duly, take advantngc of
the privilege to give their children a religious training- Cut,
coviBideridg the paucity of their numbers, they must make gicat
Mcniices to maintain a grammar Khool in every parish. The
Vmc high schools are self supporting i indeed the one for glils,
conducted by the Sisters of Sc, Joseph of Chajnbery, has tnet
with tuch success thai ii has drawn to itself pupils frcm evta
Protestant families
The hoiipitaJg are not an addtttonal expense. Their bfgirr-
nin^f undoubtedly entailed hard work and much ditTicully in
the collection of the necessary fund}. Soon, however, the (uc-
cchJuI work accomplished by them gained the canlidencc of
financiers and the funds were quickly raised, Thc&e investor*
kn«w that th« rich paii<]3E» would pay for the poor oner, acd,
moreover, Ihic palientE would never be wanting, so thoroughly
doe* all the world, and particularly, in ihla case, ProEeitant
pbyaiaans, appreciate the work and care of the Sisters for their
cbargef. Many of the city govcrnmentii exempt the hofpital<
fr<)« all tanaiton, Snme cities appropriate to ihete Catholic
hospiiali a part of the promts derived frcm the tax on the felU
inji of imoxicatinK liquore, a& they have done for i^ome lime
to ProteMam works of charily, Itiahu]^ Falize relate*, in hii
lAiefcsiiag ^'Promenades en Noruege/'* how a represeaiaiit«
ooramitCee of ProtCbianl phy^icianu befecd him to cMablith 4
CaUioUc hospital fn Bergen; how they guatpntcfd 1o raii«
the neccfiary money; how, rtn*lly, they offered to r<nt, at
ibeir own expense, a house in whi<h a temporary diipentary
might he inatailod in charge of the SJ&ierF, until the hospital
itMlf was completed.
6 Missions in Norway and Sweden. [Oct.,
Public opinion throughout Norway is very favorable to
Catholics and all the relations of the latter with the civil
authorities are most cordial. The churches and schools are'
exempt from taxation, and this fact, which may seem quite
insignificant to American readers^ seems to us French the
height of liberality. Another evidence of the good disposi-
tion of the nation waa evidenced on the death of Leo XIII,
The members of the government officially sent their sympathy
to Bishop Falize and officially also, as a body, assisted at the
funeral services held at Christiania. Moreover, in 1903, a
zealous Catholic, prominent as a catechist, was elected deputy
to the Storthing from the province of Nordland, and bis coU
leagjes in the House later nominated him as a member of the
Committee of Public Worship.
The Norwegians, a sincere and loyal people, if there be
such on earth, certainly accept their false religion in perfect
good faith. How could they have been enlightened as to the
falsity of the Lutheran doctrines which they hold since, for
more than three centuries^ not a single priest entered Iheir
country ? They had come to believe that Catholicism, accord-
ing to one of Luthefs prophecies, had disappeared entirely
from the face of the earth. No greater astonishment could be
imagined than that shown by some peasants of Hitterdal when
they learned that Catholics still existed, that there were even
some at Chnstiania, with several priests and a bishop.
An incident that speaks strongly for the sincerity and good
will of the Norwegians occurred a few years ago at Aale-
sund. Bishop Falize had sent there a priest who knew no
one in the entire city. The priest inquired of the under-
magistrate as to where he might hold a meeting and preach.
The official received him cordially and introduced him to a
Protestant pastor as one who would best advise him. The
pastor likewise gave the Catholic priest a hearty welcome and
said; "1 will get for you the large meeting hall of the work-
ingmen's union — but on one condition. Don't tell our people
the things they have known a long time about Christianity
in general, but explain the differences which separate us from
Catholicism, so that once and for all their prejudice may die.
You would scarcely believe what these good people think of
Catholics; Ihey will hardly admit that you are men like the
rest of us. Show them that they are mislaken and you will
!905l
M/ss/oxs /jv /iTo/iitrAy AXif Sweden.
have done weli." The ma.g[atrate, the frotestar^t paetor, and
the Catholic prieEt then pn^ceeded To arrange the progtamme
(or the meetings, and the programme was entirely Catholic.
Anoi>unceincnt» were made in the newspapers. Oa the even-
ing that the inttruclLon» began, the magf&iraie and the pastor
above mentioned occupied ^eat^ of honor, and an tnrerc^ied
socUence Ailed the Urge halL The^e mie^icnary meeting? are
hot now unui^ual- They h^vr been held a^ao in MoTde and
■t Kriitiati((ijri(i.
Wc wish, however, to avoid exaggeration. ThU good-
natured, honeet curiosity did not effect a great numbtf of
convfrsions but. CDnsjdcrin^ the shori time that hafi vlapErd
tincc the revival ot CaihoJicism and the minute carefulness with
whicb Noru'cgiamt examine religious problems before giving a
docisioni it if cause for congraiulation (hat the Church has
prog^cA^ed from Hbsolulely nothing to the hopeful conditions
tbat exist to-day. The character and ttabjlitv. as well as the
numberi of couversians, niuM be consiJered, and when we leam
that all are Easting, that many have been made in the families
of ProtcMJiAt ministCES, aa in J903 in the cAtt^ of tvuo learned
rectors, Krog Tonning and Svricnscn, we have much rrziBon
n> hope for the future. Even when no deAnlce conversions
tt% lMld«i Cftlh(>1ic inHuence is of great service to religious
progrccs. Already a change has been experienced in the
manner of livinf, and in the Chrisiian praciicca which have
penetrated to the core of the Protectant churches and lead th<m
IJttIc by iittte towards CaEtLoUcttm ^ficr the manneE of Eng-
lish ritualism*
A lUtle IcM error, a Little more devciion, instilled into
our separated brethren, l> in it&elf a good which cannot fail
to more hearts truly attached to Chrjsr, Catholicism, with
al) Its blettlng*. will grow quickly in Norway when more mi^
lioQariea aitd more money are available^ What can twenty-
live Apostles accomplish in a country io ExIenMve and %o dif-
ficult to ttavcrAe? The number scarcely suffices to mflkc the
CkuTcb known tn the principal cities. They cannot extend
,thsar labors to the remote, smalt towns, yet jl is there that
'llwy might succeed best, since there a more fervent fiiih ha*
been prcierved. In The great centre* of pepulationt raUonil-
ism and indifference have already worked great h^rm » in the
amiller cocntn unities, and especially in isolated farms, teligion
M/SSiOHS AV XORH^AY AffD Si
[Oct,
and good morali have preserved the i^reaier porlion oi ifccEr
force* «nt1 Cttholicivm would find there a fertile soil Tor it«
growth,
I recall w!th Amotifin a Mass which T was caHed upon \o
celflbrite on« Sunday in LardaltOrcn, at ihe looi cf ibc Scgne-
rjord, which mftrkit one of the most m^ailiccnt scenic portions
of dll Norwity. My joy on that occaeJon ivus extreme as I
retliced Uic honor that wai mine thus 10 offer, in the land
that had «o long bEen ignorant oi him, the Body and Blood of
Jmus Chrjit; bur deep also was my grief as 1 Ihoughi that,
for mort than three centuries, these peopli^ about xoe had Ton
Ihe blciiing of the Real frcaence* and that day I prayed:
"Rotate criJO daminum vrir^tiis ut milfat operarios in- niea^f m
Sweden wu tirvl converted to CathoHd^m at about tbe
iani« time at Norway, Iha: is. the tenth and cicx-cnth ceniunes-
Through CAtholidAin camo also civiliiation. The Benedictines
of Citcaux contributed moat lo the progress ol science, arc,
ijOtnni«rc<r, and avcrieuhure As ceniuries passed, however, the
cUryy and ihe monkf bewme too influential and too wealthy-
Too ifreal a prnapcrlly brings in its wake indolence, ignorance,
and Uxiiy^ When Lutheran teachings weie inlroducfd* dur-
ln| ihe reign of Gu&tav Wasa, they found confederates even
In th« cloiaiercp It was the people who resisted most valiant ty
Ihe vpread of error, " We are astonished/' said Ihe king Iq
iImt peaiani* in 1544, '' at your attflchmcnt to your former pre-
Ulo and your ancient customs, It is for ub a£ a ChriEtian
king to b» your teacher" This notion, that the people must
acotpt the religion of Ihe king, he sought to impress upon
lh«m. The doctrine, so offensive to our modetn sentiments,
wa« thea widely prevalent, France, by a glorious privtirge,
waa the one country of hiurope which would cot accept this
Odioua maxim. When the law of iitheritence brought a Frot'
•atftnt, H«nry IV., xo the thione, the French people* far from
embracing his religion, forced him to adopt theirs— refused to
acknowkd|je hhn until he became a Catholic, Swedish perse-
cution tJnitUy contjuered all resistance, and CatholiciMii wa*^ ex-
cluded entirely from the kingdom. Unlil 1S15 there wai a
a«nlenco of death againit all Catholic prjcals found within the
country.
t905.]
r/ss/ojvs M yoxmty and s^xnEX.
ItcrnAtloEU's wife and daughter-in-law^ who had r^niaineil
Catbolic^* whilr hr and hi& son rinbracrd Luthrrranbin, ?vrniu-
My obtained permission for a prieat lo rcmaJc In the coLinlry^
and fov tho erection of a chapel at Stockholm However, the
Ian which punished with exile and confiscation of property
ftll who left the established church, were not repealed until
t86o. At late at 135S. six women, five of ihem mothers,
were condemned 10 exile and deprived of all civil fights, be-
cause they embraced the Catholic faith. But this act of gros^
intolerance, condemned by all the world a:;d even by the ma-
jority of th« Prvtcatanis of Sweden* brought about the abotU
tioo of these unjust Ian/) The clergy and Ehc nobility which
bad, up to thai time, resisted the liberal measures proposed by
the king Aud approved by the Lower House, yielded at last iq
ihe ufiivcr«ft] demand for a change.
The laws of persecution were only gradually aboUahcd ;
cbaii£es lor ibc better being made In 1S60, '69. ''i^i, and particu-
larly in '73, To-day the Lutheran church is (he established
chorch, but a popular movement for its disestablishment has
been o«i tO'>i for some time. The liberalism ai some and the
rriiKious indiTercnce of others are fudhcring it; unly the coti-
servujrcs, as is ihe case in England, arc opposed to It.
DiMentctif may own the land occupied by their churches
and cemctc'ics. When ibey wihh to secure other property, or
csiablisb a ocw parish, they must appeal to the King and h«
may grant th«m the right. In fact, the King, ilnce personally
btt la very liberal, Invannbly grants such permission, but it may
readily be seeo how arbitrary and uncertain such a system is,
Tbe Uw of 1873 left in force the interdict issued by former
lawn against all cuovcnla; nevertheless iii several cities Catho-
lic Sistets care for patlcnES ia their own homes and, by a tacit
toltranc*, Jeauite diicct the three principal parishes of Stcck-
bolm, U^mo, and Gothenburg. Norway, on 1h« contrary,
grast* liberty to all religious orders. Its only Taw of cmcIu-
•ioa ii against the Jetuits, and this is not rigidly enforced.
Iti Sweden all disieniets enjoy liberty of education- The
Ctttbolies hare profited by this to the full exicnt of their small
meiAS, They have now a boarding school and two orphan
asyluns for boy«, and two schools ami ihiee orphan asylums
for firts; one house of refuge and three ho^piUUs^
Btrt th^ littiv Swediih Church has very limited means, ar.d
]Q
Afissio^s IN Norway Ai^'v Sweden,
[Oct
(j*es whal it his principally to the voluntary contributions of
th« fftiihiul and to the Sodety for the Propagation oi the
FAitht fri>m which it receives annually 14.000 francs ($2,800).
In 11^0 tlie ChuTch In Sweden had ouc apostolic vicari two
OiUuonartes. and one church btiitdirg. To-day th«te arc, ac-
coT^iAg to the onicial statistics published in December, 1Q04,
oj)c apostolic vic)tr, Bishop Albcnus Ritter, four native bom
prUfltf* fileveii foTcIg^a born mUsionaries, nice church buildixigfi
or chapclft distributed through Slockholm, Malmd. Gothenburg,
Gcflci NorrkiVping, Wallipna, and Aamcbcrg. The increase inj
the numticr of the faithful may he fieen from the followm^j
tabic :
iS6g< ..... 300
iSTO SCO
1880 Sio
i890 i,t4S
1900 ... I.6C0
1904 . , , . . i,Aso
The increase i> about fifty a year This is but little in a
population of 5,000,000. The slowness of growth must be at-
trtbutfl<l to the illiberal character of the laws, to the prejudice
NgttintC !h« Cathohc Church, carefully fostered by the pr<si,
and to the ultra -conservative spirit of the people whoi prone to
prcKcrve their emtonib anJ their institutions ]ust as they are,
%fe decidedly advprse to any modiAcation, Catholicism prospers
beat in the most sincerely liberal and progressive countries,
li» not thU harmony of our faith with modern ideas and insli-
tut^i^ris TDOit encouraging, and rich in promise lor the luEure?
ST. IGXATll'S OF LOYOLA.*
BV WILLIAM UAHftV, O D.
ISTORY- lik« traveling. wh*n punued m a serious
tempert has one gr^ai ddvant^gr— ii t^ompFb us
to viewr ihingis in a fresh light, putUng cfl the
old and encriisled \6ca& by which we m&y have
measuieil ihe world too rigorousJy- In the
reading oj the present paper, this coaicmplatioii of f&cU from
to aBu*u»] centre will, perhaps, mean for some no slight
effort i>F imagination^ How shall we make ii a &ucc«^ > 1
ih&nk in thU Wfty, Let us forget that we ure Ktijjhsh and
N«rib«ra, nmrly four hundred years distant from (lie per-
sons and the incidents which we desire to «1udy^ Throwing
evrselvcft into the situation as ih^mgh it were a play, let uh
tmajl^De that we AXt Spaniard* of the period between thofe
wofld'tturkinK ovcntSr the conLjue^t f>i Granada^ discovery of
America, aprite of Luther and Protestantism > on one side, and
tiie CouneLl oi Trent, revolt of the Netherlands, execution of
Mary Stain, and defaat of the Armada, on th« other. From
I4'i2 unbl is^^ gives a setting or framework to our canvas,
ll il the rnott eaomemoui of all ihe ecnturies &lnce Rome fell.
On its taro great binges of gold and iron, the Renaissance and
Ibe RefornMiion, hiuory hAB hecn turnLng down to this dajr;
»or do we perceive any new principle? that are likely to ab*
sorb those which w«rc then set In motion. The Renals^ancep
VlihCh aimed M a trno knciwlrd^E of man and man's uorks^
tfae Refortnstion. which wat a reading of God') u-ill upon lines
iaicrpreted by the mdividnal judf^ment- What li the relation
between thcs« methods and what the ouicomr? Thnt is one
problcm^ A scccnd, no let& formidAhIc, should ]n<iuirc Che re-
Ution betireen both at thcie movements and the Tradition of
the Church, or the Middle Age, or C'liholicJsni — in a single
vord, Rome- Were tho4C questions resolved, wc should know
what modern history signifies.
i"
ia St. Ignatius of Loyoi^. [Oct.»
We approach them Jiere from the Catholic point of sight.
And w« choose a hero round about whose flag the battle
has raged without ceasing; whose name is a byword to his
enemies, while it has been canonized in his Church ; and
whose achievement, the Company of Jesus, stands pre-eminent
among the religious orders which the last six hundred years
have brought forth. St, Ignatius of Loyola founded the Jesuits.
How much is contained in that one sentence- It was an en-
terprise not less daring nor, in many respects, less novel than
Luther attempted when he broke with mediaaval Cbristendcm,
or Calvin when he became the father of Protestant theology,
Ignatius, too, has profoundly influenced the government of his
Church, her schools, missions, clergy, literature^ divinity, and
external action. He has been the chief Catholic leader, almost
without a second, since the Fathers of Trent recognized his
Militia of the Holy War. Erasmus, Luther, Calvin, Ignatius
towei above the sixteenth century as types, singular each one
of them apd characteristic, but fumming up tendencies that
had long been active in the nations of the West and in these
representatives were embodied. Their biography thus turns
out to be the history of their own times Let us, then, con-
i [ sider Ignatius as the figure-head and motive-power of what has
been described in English and German writings as the Cath-
olic Reaction.
Don Inigo Lopez de Recalde was, it appears, the youngest
son in a family of thirteen, and was born at the Castle of
Loyola, in a beautiful Fyrenean district, Guipuzcon, during
the year 1491. The race to which he belonged was not merely
Spanish; in its veins ran the ancient blood of the Basques, inde-
pendent from time beyond reckoning; and ihcse hill* were the
retreat of Christians when the rest of Spain had been seized
by the Moors. Three times had the Berbers from across the
Straits conquered that unhappy land. The question whether
Europe should acknowledge Jesus or Mohammed was decided
) over the mountains between Toulouse and Tours by Charles of
I the Hammer, in 732; but it had taken seven hundred and
I eighty years to roll back the tide of Islam — to plant the cross
I on Toledo, Seville, Cordova, Granada; to unite the petty Chris-
I tian kingdoms into Aragon and Castile, to create a sense of
[ national unity. Religion had of necessity grown to be a per-
petual crusade. Monks were soldiers^ and soldiers were mocki.
■905-1
Sr. IGUATWS or lovola^
J3
\
The miliury orders, S^nltaea of ComjjosUlfa, Calatravii, AU
ct:3itf4. fownrtcd f)n Ihe ^iiUern of Templars or Hospitaller,
took iheir lolenin vowf derived Ir^m the doEstcr, had a bksw
iftK Kivcn them hy St. Hernard ar St. DomiHEC, ard wczLt out 10
conquer for Chrjai'i crown and kingdom. Alter iht Albiger*
lUn AlJUggk*, the InqtilsUion waa act up (about 1^33) at Bar-
fiflloQa; in 1481 at Sevill«H It bore hard upon hr-relics, s«cr«t
judalicrji, MoorUh pTelended converts, whom the people dc-
toited u not only traitors to the faith, but as a standing; dan-
ger lo ihe public iniereAt. Spain, il should be remcfnbcred,
wav alwiya in a state of &i«ge- Our free and open maxims of
trade »od iniercojrse would have been as l[Etle comprchmdcd
by lit f ulcr» or their subjects as wc ucule^al^nd the uevtr sleep-
iftg Mi»ptcion that centuries of gucTiUu warfare had made an
ianlnet with all who lived by it — Moor and CatholJc. Jew and
Gypiy. soldivr, dtiien, merchant, bidatgo, priest, SuEpicion in
peace, hcrcUni in war ! The kirgs of Aragon fight desperately;
bat ihpy are ^lolitic attd wary in negoiiatJon; the Icings of
Ctitile are the "Catholic" and the "Wise*'; Haatern courage,
Ki^tera cunning, learned from their xtzy foes, and Ihe Arab
revcrve, touch with colors not famtliar to us a (ine nalure.
brilliant, chivalrous, hardy, temperate, yet headlong and cruel,
in which poetry turns to action, and life ia a knighlly adven-
ture, a religtoui queM,
Sach were the ancestors to whom Ignatius owed Km fc-
markabk qualities, miking him singular amang the French at
Paris where he studied, and a pu£r)e to the downrtghl but so-
ber EnglUhoian. He could not chooge but be a knight-errant,
a «o)ilter \a any ca^e, if not also monk or priest. One mote
feildfe ahoold be added. The longing to recover Jerusalem,
which governments of the sixteenth century did not share,
waa yet an inipiration for youthful dreamers. Thanks 10
French -Eagli ah war^, to Wars of the Rohcs, to Italian ri-
▼«Jriea. tbe Grand Tdrk wa> triumphant by >ea and land —
galleya manned by Chnstian alavea infcMcd the Mcdiierranrau ,
a bticcatkeer like Barbarovfa could defeat Charles V. and winter
%m ToqIod Harbor; Ocranto And SiLcrno were captured by the
Modeeni; and Piu) V. did not break the maritime forces of
[fiam ai Lepanio till fifteen years after Ignatiuii had quilted
ibc scene, in 1571^
A paiEc at the Court of Ferdinand, practised in arms, artt,
14 -5/; Ignatius of Loyola, [Ocl.
and good manner*, but no great scholar, <^ampaignfrg wc know
not where, devoted to some royal lady, the youih hears of
wonderful di&coveritf$ over sea, of Colurabus and Cortes, while
Spam is the foremost power in Chnstcndom, His sovereign,
Charles V,. ia Roman Emperor, holds Germany. Italy, the Neth-
erlands, wiU by and by lake Francis 1. prisonpr at Paviat but
U always marchinfi to fight thcEic French who cannot be put
mn. Butle« and sieges are the order of the day. In the
impalgn oi i%ii, whf^re a Ud named Pranoi& Xavicr \& on
the French side skJrmi?ihLng, Itsnaiius does notable deeds at
P^mpctunA, but on May 20 gets wounded in both legs, under-
goes friglitful operationB, i» lamed lor life, carried in a litter to
\\\5l fdther'?^ castle at Loyola, and rises from his bed of sick-
ness a chAoged man. He bad been given lo read during con-
vakacence the Lt/t of ChnU, by Ludolph the Saxon — a devout
and beautiful work— and the LtgentU oj the Snta/s, writlen in
romance^ They kindled in him a violent enChusJaim. St,
Francii and St. Dominic, the Fathers of the Desert, seemed to
chaHenge his gieat spirit; " Thete and those did such amazcrg
ftcis for their Lord; why not I?" Amid hia pious thoughts
were mingled reminiscences from Amadis dt Gaul and the
other talM of chivalry. The crusader in Ignatius awoke. H«
dreamt of concjuering a kingdom for Christ, But he was only
an ignorant soldier. He must begin by conquering bimacir
So he set out on his memorable journey to Mon^errat near
Bircelons. wearing his rich nttirp. Ori the eve of the Aii»
nunciation, March ^4- ^S^J. be exchanged his knightly rairaeot
with a bc|{gar; put on a sackcloth gown; suspended swoid
and dagger bc^iide our Lidy's shrine, and after keeping watch
that night, as for a heavenly dedication, proceeded next morn-
ing io Manreea^ which from hie abode there was to acquire
lasting fame.
Atmost a whole year, until February, r^Jj, Ignatius passed
in the cave which he had found amid these rock£, done, Eub-
jeci to ftighrful ausieriLies, temptations, fainlings, changes of
light and dark. He was caught up in the spirit and saw
visLOna, the fruit of which was an immense enlargement of
intellect^ a more determined plan, and the volume known to
all Catholics as the S/firinta/ Btfirisfs. This book, written m
the solitude of Minresa, lays no claim to be a Itler&ry pro-
iluction. lis name, but hardly its substance, reminds scholars
190SJ
Sr. iCHATWS OF LOYOLA-
of 4Rnth«r work, the Exfrdit of ihf Spiritual Lift, by^ Cia- ,
Qcros. th« Benedictine Abbot of Mcotcrrat^ My cc^py is dated
'SSSf I'ul ^^ Tfnclaie of 1500 had probably fallen under
the cyc8 of IgnAtius, 3T)d may liavc tuggcstcd hJB \\\\v. There
coQ be oo d^ubt ;hjt the govemng ideas 10 which be gives
estprcutoti in a way mo&l original, h^il lon^ b^rn prcAcnC in
his mind — the conquest of self for God. and of our fellow-
men 10 Je«u«- Those meditations, called by him the Two
Standards cf Ihe Ki;;^dDtn ^\ CbrisT, contain aW that Igc^titJE
pco|>o«ed to do and the motiven upon which be acted till
hi* dying; hour. There is nothing which exactly resembles
Uivm in previous ascetica] literature- The Ej.-etu's<s aie not
aimply 10 be read- They must be "given" by a director,
ud "ttkcn " by the recruit, under conditions of rcttrcmenlr
tUcncc. prayer, and self-denial; and in view cf leaoluEions
to b« founded on Chrtsiisn good scnfic %viih iU|jeiMa(UTal aid.
In their pages we team the secret of the l^natisn syst«nip It
hu no other. Loyola (as (tTangerK ca]f him) Hvcd and died
by thi« Rule, Every member of hi& Company \& drilled eveiy
year m ii, from the novice to the geneial It U the icxt on
whEch miMionf and retreata are conducted; guidance along the
paths ol religion follows it as a road-book; it wae the fix^X (in
a Latin verttonj of the innumi^rabje volumes printed by Jesuit
Anthorv; and it haa never been aupersedi^d in its own kind.
The Constitutions of the Society do but put its principles to
lite touch by Laws answering to thtm. Take away the hxtr-
{ius and the Conp«ny of Jeeus would be annihilated by lh9
tame ttroke.
Hence all atlenipls to explain the life of Ihe Founder him-
self, or the chequered story of his institution, which leave out
l)i< SxfrtUtt, or aubordmate them to aJkeed Monita Stcrela*
or ifiiply ibat bis successors in the generalship, especially A^
tjoAviva, brought a policy forward which amounted to revoEti-
tiofk, niist certainly fait. It may be questioned if any Order
ha* kept more ckiscly than the Jesuits to the idea from which
they started: and that idea, whole and entire, was consigned
* D>. ^ ll«' >t-w\Ui. fihrinirhy ViatftMtf at d^tyjiU l[^>Lcin HE Kt'l 1« Lutlionpt,
■Wi.- ■ 7"** Mt'fi^ firn^tt- Jfl», J., tfiltf' -i[>|ir^iTHT in ti-lt (i-IVil Afm'fn Sfrrt* m ■ ^Mrt
MiHBWii ■> ■ ■■inr 'HI ih* (JfdFf, *-nrim Liji it? n-Jvfuii, htrniii-/<iiTrFA*kii " {Xl\. «|ji
t Tt-I All vioiij al \x n ;hvji Efi H<u>i^tk in VdJ. I J. of I1I1 nrnr iieima]] it^rli cii iha
T^fc-i. AD »£%>'<■« TiFtY* *|ffvi<1 In ihi *]•« tlal'4 I^t Mi>tJtlii| , \,v,i lli« [HiniplilK hat V*(li
TT Sr. ij.VAnrs of Loyola. [Oct.,
t-j piper during the year of retreac spent in bis lonely celJ at
Minr^sz br ^3 mtidl musmg genial To bis thoughts and
v-.aoctf riccc ae wcat issck for ULthority when objections were
3i^e L3 l^csr rime^ '"So Lt vas shown to me at Manrcsa,"
ii« wuuiti say^ Biit now twQ things Eud to be done; be must
:ilq1 us vqw jc ^li^dmo^ ta the Holy Land; after which he
fiiiiui^ t-ar^ is ^ludi L^cia as wQoId enable him to study and
?j ?e^ca Tciii^ua, He l«rt Boicriona in February, 1523; ar-
-'-vii .a Xfme ium^ 3tjE?a: a« and convened with Adrian
^ v . ::^ stiacy Feim^ ?*3pe who for a moment occupied
Sc. T-^Kci Ciiiir: wenc -Jti iiy way of Venice and Cyprus to
.uf.4 utsx :ue*ice :u _"ifn;S^«at. where he spent six weeks; and
^■JU'J t^vt; 5ecti« 3«re x-r jie had it been permitted. It
«^ NC -j\j^i£t^e. Juc le 3«T«r abandoned the thought of set-
r'lri; ^j.' a tJuse war 3l<jmic 5^oil
x'stuETitit^ ^KJ f^Au. ^ Sfkioved his books at Alcala, the
4.u*«'*tEy 4:ui^j \Iaw!i«^ :iw F^ram:isc«a cardinal, had estab-
;?*b5*: a v',v. '^^ w«nc Ai^ut dressed tn sackcloth, teaching
.-^ c^^^-.ti^m :t> .^-jiLdriea wmamif cwq or three disciples, and
^.^t^ t^urty^y w4Kaed ly dfc L»^iWMti<xt — luy, for a while
.n^v^.st-^^**. A^ Sibaoum:^ where h» desred to learn philoso-
-.V '»vxt< :itiu^ Ki<^ Ji*n- :^ reiistoics authorities, in their
ixi*i^,>*. wsitusrf; J«t a.m ji sr-laoa a second time, and for
u«i.». ^*j^ K »^^ Jtfurtd wita i chttia Co one of his compan-
v*t>. »hi. jk: .-**« w*f Jtcwifd Jt hU ta¥oc. Ignatius did not
^vvx* ^ v>v J* tetf^ jr ***¥<' ^* « took care lo get altes-
^■v^.* .^ ,A*^iwv\v ^vm 3bt lai^iiwciott; and he made up
s^ ^..w. 'Su ^ s*cu.d *a.f<r :trs» awiestttioo in Paris, at ihai
>.^ .N -^ss> *.»v«^ 4th-*K=G«^ Thew ^ arriwd in Febru-
„. ^ N *is. c%.v^t^ W4* « ii» Co;:t,£e Monltign, which
^..^.-■v-M ^*^':o .^--''J> '^*^ ««iTed Eruma» to its hard
\ r?r l^*.h^^ ^e*^K«r- «*»«* lipialio* passed seven
,, .^^ ., ;ttv^ c*KT^ ^ :*&» *»* discussion, wandering
.^. .. ,*-*K^* ^ ^^^««^ ^ Aar-erp. that he might get
^...^x. v^ -M w*u< ^^t«w- la 1550 be came to
/\ KV^*iS*» ^^*^ ^ '-tsiced the shrine of St.
. v<.v^^^>^ >* ^^» ^" »** "** conversed with
" ""t ^\,^ ,s -w OwwJfc^w '-Aom Henry VIII. aJter-
" ^ xv-vNi J* :.w.« iaiH«» h,«b*W fo* denying his spirit-
,_.v ^x ^^^ ^^ 1^^ ^v^ tt*vtW some part of the
" ^^* Tv -. *^v >-* ^l^'-^f' C»«pt«, *nd many other
'90S']
sr. Ignatius of Lovoi^.
Jesuits, were destined to be hanged, drawn, and quartered ui
yc4r« to come.
To Paris in those eventful times came thronging men from
All <]U]trlers and of opinions ihe most difisimLlar. Calvin was-
thffTC. brooding over his prede^tinarian dnc(rin«5 ; Servefus, too,
whom he would one day have to burn for htttsy in Geneva;
and Rabelaitf, iZie great comic genius of infinile wii and unrE-
«rain«ble humor, who looked with equal scorn upon the old
beJicverf and ihe heretics of ycBlcrday. Tgnatma, a man verg-
ing Oft forty, could not learn boys' lessons, H« ii«ver act^uired
« good Latin )tylc Impatient of delay, he endeavored to
ippLc with half a dozen subjeete at once: but his intellect
not adapted to schoUrship, and though he took a credlt-
ile degree, his attitude towards knowtedge was that of a ruler^
ftoi of a student. He practised the art of winning soula. Hh
Ittdgmentr now ripe, was amaxingTy acute. He £eem& hence-
Forth lo have m^de scarcely one mistake in chaoi^ing friends
mnd ditclples. When he ralaed hit piercing eyes from the
>und, he looked into [tlco's hoarts. The usual perEccuiion
LWaited him from inquisitors and his own countrymen, with
rviult* not unhappy, for he conquered hi» enemies by a cer-
Uiifi moderation and the reasonableness of argument. In which
he now eKc«tled» and which his Order learned from hinin
Ort«, the Spanish advocate of Queen Katharine, at Arst hos*
lite, became hii protector, lie drew to himself by degrees the
Savoyard, Pierre pAvre, a man of talent equal to his heroic
though seif-eflacing temperament- And with Favre's help, rot
KDlil many efron» at rciintance had been overcome, he made
an attached follower of the Navarrese, Francis Xavier, also a
Aiti^ue by descent, known to after times as the AposUe of the
lodicv^ Other important conquests were Laynea. the Castiiian,
whoM learning and prodigious memory astonished the Coon-.
c\l of TretH ; Salmeron of Toledo, hardly les3 gifted: Simon
Rodrtguex, a Portuguese, and Bobadilla oE Palenza, All, in
dtio Cotirac, took academical distinct if nb- By fgnaiiuM they
were tau|£ht Ibe Sfiiriiiral txtrcistsj and so the rudiments of
a new rcligiout order were almost unconrciously foriDed-
On the F«ut of the Aisumptiou* August ij, 1534, the six
companions, with Ignatius aX their head, astembled in the
Chapel of Sl Dcnb, at Montmartre. and there, after rvceiv-
ing Commujitoei took th« mooi»tJc vowi of poveriy and chan-
St. Ignatius of Loyola.
Illy. They bound ihcmsclvrs to the pilgrirnagc of the Holy
L«Qd, after whii;h they were lo be ai ihc Pope's utter disposal,
and to go en misMonary enterprise wherever he should sentf
them, A mceling was arraikged in Venice, Ihc gateway of the
£»t. Ttither. when he had acc^^mpEished a journey inio Spain,
the rounder of tbiLt 'MIlllc Company" (minima sodelas), for
to ht loved la call it, went to await his comrades in January,
IS57- I^ut the pilgTiutage could not take place- War had bro-
ktn om between the Venetian Republic and Solyman, the
Gnnd TueIe, No vesstla but those o1 ivar wou[<] put to sea;
and accordingly the brethren set forth on ihcir journey towards
Rome Ii;»:ilius had been ordained priest; he wa^ resolved
not to celebrate Mas^ until arriving in the Holy City, At La
Scoria^ which is near the ruins of ancient Vdi, whilst rapt in
prayer, he had a remarkable vision of the L«rd in which, if
aot earlier ai Manrcsa, as his immedtate disciples befiev^d. ihe
name that he should give to his Order was made known lo
him. lie entered Rome in November. 1537, began to teach
children as hi^ custom whs, and suinTnonpd the Falhcrs to draw
up Rules for their Insiilultf which wa* done after every point
bad been discussed. The result he set out in five chapters of
lucid exposition, which Cardinal Conlarini, whose brother had
b>f ridded Ignalms in Venice, presented to Pope Paul IlL
Oa reading Jt, the aged poniiU exclaimed with conviction;
"The (inger of God la here!" Hitt he did not approve the
Order at once, Three Cardinats were appointed to examine
And report- Guidicdoni of Lucca, much regarded for learni:>g
and piety, was opposed to new religious broth eihoodf. and
t.^fould have done away with all but four o( the ancient. On
■ tuclden he changed his views; the report WAfi favorable; and
("aul ill,, in I54'^*l^'y his Bull, " Regimini MiljlaiHis Ecglesli,"
aitabliflhcd the Company of Jesus.
Thi* Pope was the last conapJcuoua figure among those
churchmen of the Renaissance, who^e objlitiefi cannot be dis-
puted, but whi^i have left a burden not easily borne on the
ihouldertf of apologists* As a young man Cardinal Farnese
had b?En plc^iqure- seeking and ambitious. He livtd to tee
Rome Backed, in 1527, by a Lutheran atmy. under the Con-
atable de Bourbon. In his own pontificate, England kll away;
France wa» br<cding her Huguenot troubles; Germany ap-
laarcd to be lost beyond hope; and the Spani&h in^uence^
t^50
Sr rcyATius oi
19
ptratDQunt In Milan and Nftpka. waa mak]n|> a UmentAblc end
of ItaHui freedom^ Tbc o]d diplomat Lai, when he came lo th«
F^piiL ChaJf, ftiimUted thai rtiozn), of the Church in head and
memben, to \o^% prnmised in vain, coutd now bo no mor«
put oH. He had tertous Taullf, especial])' indulging the vice
o\ n«poti>nj, but he ro^c ax Ih^i to the aiiuatiori- A Council
should be called, the laith upheld against itinovaiions, anri good
roonU be promoted.
While he wa£ thus deliberating, under the per^uafiive ccun'
»cU of men iiUt Coniafini and Rcgiriald Tolc, othcfs had brgon
to ftct. FrojiT the Oratory of Divine LovCi in Rome it^el^ a
ipiriteal movement had been spreading over Italy, St. Caje-
lAn lounde'l (he Thcatines, in T524, an Older Mvith whicli ibe
Jemit* were long ideniified in cotnrnon speech- The Capuchins
d^i« from i%2^', ihc B£rnabile£ of Milan rrom 1530, And satms
WFTV once M^uin proving thai the tdvalt of the Iraditionfll le-
hgion bad life in them Mill- Hut a deltnJIe plan, suited to the
tica4», wu needed before all things; an impulse that should
work the contrary way to Luther'5 had yet tQ be given- Th«
plan waj laid down in the Kxfr^hft of St- Ignniius^ the im-
pnlfv dUcovered and applied in a formuU not less ancient than
monachi^m, nor unequal to the contest with Trivate Judgment.
Th4t formulu was Obedience to Aiiihon'ry When l-ntber ck-
claimed, " N^n Sfrvtjnt," — "I will not yield" — which Is the
iat«rpr*UlIon of bis famous pruicKt at thv Diet of Worms,
Ignatius of l^yola answered him, "Hear the Church-" And
the cniiKl of the Church was to be aacenained in Rome, from
the lip« of Sl Feter^fr cui:cefisor>
But vho should put this doctrine Into execulJon ? The
Biihopft WTTC feeble or untrustworthy; the Orders had sui
in popular eiteem and in England were supprea^cdp in Ger*1
many fijfhtinK for exi&lcncc; the aecular clergy had too oflen
neglected their flochs, did not instruct the children, themselves
showed a painful ignorance of their duties. Controversy was
taking an entirely novel shape, And the heathen in America,
in the EftM. who would preach the Gospel among them f
From the Urge correepondence of Ignatius witb his subjects,
a» with prelates and pnnoe^, nothing is more evident than
that he kept these questLons before him day and night- His
loititotion wax eflfientiaily a training, teaching, preaching, and
psiarionafy Order- II accepted the FranciKcan Rule of poverty
I
Sn iGftATws OF Loyola.
[OctT
in ttrkresE tcrma^ yet was recruited from men of birth and
BOon found a. hatne in courU royal- It took tip Jrom the
DominicAne the task of public Ecrmone, tectures, ditpulc*;
not without Uying ttrees on clcmeittarv and disiaslefuJ work,
«uch A« children's dasees^ while wearing the spoils of htitnan-
Um- \i made a point oE serving the sick in hospitals. U was
noi a Rule for the cloister; hence, to the scandal of many
orthodox perflons, it put a^ide choral chanting, a diaiinciivr
hibU, severe watching^ and fastings (though IgnAtiut had ex'
ceeded in these inativr^}, and neitlier of tet purpose nor una-
w^'ei did it cuEtivAte the poeliy oE tites and beauty of archi-
tecture which have thrown over monastic ruins a charm so
profdiiiid. When we compare the Jesuit with his forerunners,
with Ffi Angelico, (he Dominican painter, with St. Francis of
Atticl, who has left us the '* Canticle of the Sun/' with St.
Bruno in his siTerl Chartreuse, or with Ihe nitmbcrless Bene-
dictines who made use of plough and pen and abbot's crook,
lo build np or defend medtxval civitL^ation, we feel lueb a
difference u on closing the divine ±ong of Dante and opening
a modern book of science or r^search^
The aim which Ignatius never !o£E sight of, and which his
Company haH pursued, is altogether practical, to do, to suffer,
fo 4r^u«, to convince^-we may Jix Jt in a signilicnnt wotd, to
"direct/' And if any one phrase could exhaust an activity
which broke out on alt sides to men's amazemenl, and which
checked the Reformation in mid career* perhaps it would be
" govtfnmerii by persuaslt^n." That secret Ignatius had acquired
at UanresM when anatomising his own soul. Enthusiasm gave
Mai power; patient snd steady thought discovered the surrsi
V4V lo control it- This extraordinary genius reasoned like a
p4llfo*oph<r, felt tike a saint, and held his own like a man of
IJm world with sovereigns, diplomatists, lawyer^ thcokgians;
IWVtr appealing to force (which he did not wield) and reto-
|«|«|^ declining the lilies, robes, and outward splendor
mVtth Top's or Kings would have thrust upon bis Iecuicd-
•AC*- A sfMclal vow forbade the acceptance of dignities nn-
Hm by s->lcmii command of the Holy S«e, «nd there was no
lmtk% CardiMi before Tolelu^
BMmUw, who kiMW how to gorcm men. praised these
CfHMH«lt'Wa sS the end of the century as a coasterpiccc of
M<^, TMr watchword, obcdieace, was made cffeetiire by
9O50
5r, IGNATWS OF LOYOLA,
«x?inpticiTi from \q<ia\. ties, by choice of ncvioei, ilfEimciion be-
tween "simpk" end "solemn'* vows, gndes of Tdlowehtp in
Iha iirivilogcfi of ihc Order, the exceedingly sinall number of
iully " profe^cd " Jesiiiirj ; and by absolute rule on the part
of the General (be wai elected for life) wilb his cenlralited
correspondence and incessant super^^Uon. The meiapbon by
which Ihese characteristics are hinicd, the dccility of mind
which they ask of the companions, were not unknowii ^ to
monastic Institutes. But the discipline had never been so pcr^
Fvctty adapted to form an army beat on its one supreme pur-
■■pos« "the grraier gloiy ol God/' Doctrine in the Church was
Inviolable; it must be maintained against every oncomer; and
the saying U jubtified that, wh;le Proiesiants >ei ^baui uvolu^
lionising dogma. CatlioLicfi. under inspiration of Their J<4u!t
ggjdet, reformed morals. The second half ni the sivccenih
century beheld Popes who dwelt tn the Vatican as if they had
been monkt in iheir cells — St. Pius V,, Grcgoty X1II-, SixtuK
v., Clement VIM. — princes and emperors who set religion in the
forefront of their political designs — like Philip II.. Maximilian
of Bavaria, the HouBe nf Autiria — pocU as tcmpubuKly or-
thodox as Torqualo Tnsso. and a crowd of saints who. like St.
Teresa, reformed convents and monanerle*, or like St, Philip
Ned, the Apostle of Rome, and St, CharJes Borromeo, Arch-
bishop of MUjui, were said to have convened uhole cities.
In this wonderful restoration Ignatius claims the leader's
p^rt. From i^ijS until bis death, in x^^^. he lived at Sta.
Maria detla Strada. not far froni the C'ltpiicsl, in a little bsrv
chamber of a mean house, conttantly an invalid, going forth
only to bear confcsMons, to preach in brokvn JlJilian. to give
children their catechism, but ever occupied in governing the
(niitiona and colleges which multiplied rapidly all over C«lho>
tic l^nrope. and were soon established among the heathen. In
aixteen ytAX-i^ iwcEvc provinces, including Upper and Lo*cr Ger-
many, Braiil. dtnd the Indies, as well as Spain. Portugal, and
Italy, received their separate bands of Jesuits;'' when Ignatius
died, one thousand menibaj^ haiti been eniolled, and (heir col-
leges, in which education wa« given wilhcut charge, amcnntcd
to one hundred, ^ut m^rf important than all this by far, 4
tald had been invented, elastic and yet delinile, into which
light be run the modern 'Activities, i^pirilual. itocial, litciary,
and comtroreriialr that were to distinguish the Church durfrg
St. fGffATius Of-' Loyola.
the next two centurLcft of her exi&iciice. The Company of
Jesua, indeed, was dissolved, by Clenicnt XIV'^^ in r77j; a
new world came in with ihc l-rench RevoLuii^n. Bui ihc pan
COiiW not b*^ undone, The Reformation, which in r54o threat-
ened to drive CithoUcisiu south of ihc Alps, and which was
winning adherents even in Jlalian cities, had been once Tnr all
thTown back to northern latitudes. ** At first/' says Macaulay.
jipoaking of the Debatable Ldnds. "the chances seemed to be
decidedly in favor of ProfestanLiffn ; but the victory remained
with the Church of Rome'* On every doubtful frostier she
was aucccSiful. In the year 1600, "we find har," concludes
the hitlotian, *' VLCtorJojs and dominant in Krance, Belgium,
Bavaria, Bohemia, Austria, Poland, and Hungary." He tnight
have added in Ireland, from which the churches of America
and AuEtralifi were to be largely recruited. Who had wrought
this marvelous change? Friend* and ioes agree in ascrihinE
il to the feneral stalT which Ignatius had created, disciplined,
and sent forth on campaign.
His sagacity in choosing captains for the Holy War was un-
rivalled. One fig^urc has taken all eyes, the romantic and ad-
venturous Francis Xavier, who, at a signal given in 1540, £«t
out to evangeUre the Fjtr East, underwent many martyrdoms,
fotinded churches in India and Japan, and was meditating Ihc
spiritual con<iuesC of China when be died on the Ule cf San-
chian. in December, ($5^- He is The patron and bright ex-
ample of modern missionary enterprise. But the life and
achievements of Pierre Favre were not less remarhable- His
journeyt through l-rance. Belgium, and Spain abounded in tri-
umphs for the cause. He was the first Jesuit who entered
Germany^ He attended the Conference at Ratisbon in 1541.
which came to no result; but he gave the Hxrrciies to clergy
and laity of high degree* and prepared the way for the
Council of Trent- Simon Rodriguez did a similar work in
Portugal, Tht' amiable and unwearied Peter Cflnisius (Kanis)
of Nimeguen, now on the roll of saints, preached and taught
so successfully in the Souch German^ AustEian, and Bohtmian
countries that he 15 reckoned the chief instrument of their sub-
misfiioD to Catholic doctrine. His Catechism waA celebrated,
When the Fathers of Trent assembled, Paul lit, sent to them
(l546-4r)> "' ^^^ ***™ theolngians, the Jesuits, Laynez and SaU
meron, comparatively young men, by whose v&at Ieain)t>g,
"90i-l
St, foNATii/s OF Loyola.
K
wbicb the limplictty of their lives enhanced, ihe CcwkU
i;ui<lod in iU momentous and admirable dt^bntca, esped^f ibi
the tubjecc of F^ith Aad Ju&tJticatton.
V<t A »econd Si. Francis adorn* this opening history, so
fcftilc in iDAfkod and resolute characters. This wa^ ihe Duke
df Cftndla, nho represented the Uorgiaf in Spain and was inti-
mtelj ftcqn^intQd with Charles V- By the total surrender
of rank, honors, iind estates, he made tip for the scandal af-
•octat^d with hiB family nainc. and hj» virtues rntiilcd it to a
place In the Calendir. He had, when a youth, Mcn Ignatius
led to pritior\ thriju^h the streets of Aicai-i. His oun un-
blemished piety woa heightened by ihc lugubrious incident
ihac b«fe3l him when conveying the remains of the Emprefis
Isabella to their tait resting-place. But he married happily,
and it wAi not tinti^ his w[fe*9 decease that hr joined the Or-
d<r. To him the Society owes its eoiid establishment in Spain-
He vas al«o the principal agent in founding the German Col-
it%* at Kome, and the eelebraicd Roman Collei^e itself, which
19 a university attended by many hundreds ol students irom
every province in Christendom^ St, Prancja Borgia, to whom
the Jevuita owe their chief seals of education, as well as Ihoie
Siasaillccni edifices, the Gent and the Church of Sam' T^-
■aaio, became Third General of the Society on ihc death of
Laynec, it) iS^5i tnd survived until l^Jt^
One happlncfts, not always granted to eminent men, was in
■tore for Ignatius — i biographer devoted yet we|l-infoim<d ar.d
^9ilne*re, who h;td lived long o^ alTectinnate terms wilh bim,
artd was perhaps the human being he loved best. Pedro Kibade*
Dcira had been a page of Cardinal AHesandro I'arnese, nephew
of Paul lU,, and ran away from him to the hou&e of the
Jesuits. Th« lad*s youthful exploits brighten Ihe record like
• pltaiant comedy; but he i^rew up to be « preacher of tc-
Lown ; be did much to win a footing for the Society in Flan-
ker*; aod hit portrait of the saint wiU alwnyi be & cUtaic-
Ribadeoeira lived to tee Ignatiuir pubricly ranlrcd smong the
Bictted by Paul V,, in iti<^^. Thirteen yeuri afterwaidf, on
Uftreh 1 3, \632, Pope Gregory X\. canonised Loyola, lo.
rfcthef with Francis Xavicr, the Spanish rustic Isidore, Philip
N«fi, aad TcrrSH of Jesus, It wac an emphatic tettimony to
the vicivsitudes ol a lon^ war in which Catholic tradition, at
St. tG^ATWS OF Loyola.
(0«-
im Bctrly dooc to tkfttb, h^d ri*en to i new life Asd a
•erica o( trianphi.
Bat ndthcr St^ IgaatiiiK nor hii btop^ilMr cui veU terc
«Dtkip«ted bow the future would run. It vat C^vin wbo. in
bti fmtiitttlio ((552), fuuac4 ibc lUAie of Jciflil on thb UEnt
of reUgiout Ordert^ Aod from the side of C«Jria il bA> bcm
noft fiercely ftiitcked. Tfae Preneb HueueAot*, his ra»oii««c
o0fpTii>g. were put down; but tbeir piace was filled by Sl^
Cyrafl, the AriMuldai, ind the JutscnUti; iit«lr spirie fo«&d
iu revenge in the Pr^vimnaJ Litun of Pascal, pablifbed ex-
oclty iHic hundred yca» aflcr Ie»aiiu4 bad left the field- As
Biiaiionarici, expJorcrt, Iriends of the American IndiaDE. fcviid-
«r» of A ConunoQwekltb in ParaEU*}'- ^^ Jesuits bad UfOtA
erery peril, ahown a boundIc» dariDg, a&d a himaQily «i
Aobkr In king'* boiucB, actin|> at royaJ cocfe^sors, tbcy wen
•04 10 be Cflvi«d- Tboy jiut eacapcd the charge, offered to
Loyob, of the Por|u|[u«Ae In<)uLaiEion^ Their auccess in coa-
irOTrray* their alcJU aa (eachen, which Itacon admired, could not
fail to raii« up vnemiea outaide the Church: t)»eir great in*
llu«ie« within \\ proved a danger to themaelve'S^ That England
or HolJand ahouM ret^ard them lu born tc^es to ibe established
rotlgioM, and trcet them accordingly, waa eo be expected. But
lb« bl(7wj which broke and acalLcred ibeJr Society were dealt
by Caiholtc Kingi and MiniAt^ra in Poriugal, Spain, France.
Aad Auairla- Their >uppreiaion waa reJ^tctantly signed by
Clameni Xl^\, in iba Hull " Dora in u a ac Redcmpior," ntbich
iiwiulled the approbationa of Paul III, Julms 111., and Uie
CmiuII of Trent. Tboy abared the fate of the Templars, Th<
flr^al Company* tald ita adveraariei. waa at an end: the laat
4tj iba Cruaadera had aeen ita day- Vet a restoration was
•walling \\\ ftnd in 1K14, uad«r Piua V[]„ & fresh cycle opei^rd
ol Ubof, miaaiona, TeacbmgB. trials, and pertecQtions, as if the
f^fttimi Ux4ftuft had been written ycsteiday. add the Society
ni Jaauv, Mlr« tbe Churcb whose fortunes it had shared and 90
<Wiaii a^lvanced, could never dit*
!HIP.
bv katharink tvnat«.
Chapter X.
stsv. I'ARTn oy a wav.
fASTLE STRKKT, ArdnagowRn, climbs a sleep hill
to tb« htftght on which the old caslic liowns and ia
vbibl« to the sjTrounding country-iide. Ardna-
Ijowftn is a town on the iwg banks of a river,
wiLh 1 steep JLsceni to hiUt on either side. Some
of the fttrcnla at< go stce|> th-it you cliinb them by steps, thfce
■t ■ time. Bui CasLk Street slopes more gradually than th«&c.
It U from the nature of (he ascent a very dark streeL
Tbtf bouses show three stories above the shop-fronts and have
tke ctunl dinfine^i of ihc houses in an old IriEh couriiry
torn. And Ardnagowan Js very old^ h&ving been a Norman
setllemeni. indeed, hundreds o£ years ago.
For lbs frame reason ii presents sotnc curious and interest-
ing fcatvr««. There are the ramparts, which were built to keep
out the native Irish, the ramp^rtb. failen haJf in ruine now,
with their look-out towers dropped away inside like an empty
ahctJ. There U the ^ablc of a beautiful monastery church,
buiU by those NorniaiLE who were very piincee of church<
bflilden; ahhough a rapactovi and marauding crew of free ad-
v«&lur<rt. Some features in the house building, often hidden
behind valls as dull and ugly as iho&e of Castle Sueet, owe
their existence alto to the Norman settlement. For inaiance,
tht courtyards- A good many of those dingy houses look
into a&cicnl cosrIyardK at the hack, some of which have kept
their aaci«nt greenness and freshness; while others have be-
eoRM in lime mere common rubbish heaps, and the houses
which lie Speduded boyoiid them abodee for ihe \€iy poot,
Ntfmber 4> ^^^ ^^ dingy as any of its neighbors, dingier
eircn, tNcausc the contents ol its shop-windows did not brighten
them up as did Ihe wares in some of the others. There can
I
Her LADYSHiP. [Oct,,
be few ihops IcM inviting outwanll^ iha?} a EcniJl taiWr's in a
provioGUl town, which shows only b*Ici of wooJco sioff to
tempt the pts»er-by. ?erhapa Hugh Randal's h«art was not in
hit wimlotf'flressin}; ; perhaps he had no desire lo break
thrnrigh the iradilions of the ibop before it bad beco hts.
Ao/how the »hop ahowcil uninvLiing.
]| happened to be u bright hue mor&jng oJ I->br«tTy wbeA
Lady Anne Chute and Mf«, Massey came in at the toir-fronted
door of Ihe ^hop. They had dtiven over and had left tbeir
carriage round the corner, at Ihe foot of the Baeep. narrow
itrect, to ihai the mabtcr of the fihop^ who was meafuring
twsed with a yard meaiufc by the long uiuntcr. had no ■ram-
Ing of the upprtiAch of the Udies till ihey tame in.
Mount Shandon waa for enough away from Ardnagowan for
Lftdy Anne to he unlcfiown In the town. She had lo stoop as
■he enicred the ihop, and wheti ihe had entered she looked
too \\\\ and too h\% for the narrow and low place.
Ai «h« came in Hugb Randal glanced found and then
lluthed with wonder and delight. She was like the goddess of
■pring m the dark thop. She was wearing a Long cJoak of pale
lavender cloth and the had a bunch of datfodils in her band.
]Ier wide hal of straw th^t matched the color of her cloak
waa iHmmed with white and purple Ulac. He dropped hU
y«rd meaiura and went forward to meet her For the mom«nt
h« aaw only her, though ai his eyes traveled on he waa eon-
tofoua thai there waa another lady with her
Ifc aet chair* for the two, and then stood by them with
Ills head bonC, walrlnf for what they might say, Mr^, Masacy,
fUncing at hJm with inlfreat, said to herself that he was the
Vtry aniitheiii of the tailor who was a ninth part of a man.
Ironlt* of fate aniused her with a rueful amusecnent; and this
mi nno of them, that ihla alender. bright young man. with the
aagav «y«t tindar the brown hair> Ahould be a UJlort a tailor
of all things! She remembered " ihe great Mei " of " (Cvan
Harriiiglon" and it clid not console her. The magnificence of
"tba great Mel" was an artifidal, a conventional, town-bred
iMaifnil^trnc*, while this young man breathed of the open air
Aftil Ilia country gr^cn-
Tb* c|o» thop had the oily vmcll of new woolens- There
wa< a mirror on one wall At the further end there was a
K|Uira balf'SUii finclovwrc for Acting purposes, Down the
1905-1
Her Ladyship.
^7
middle of the ihop tan the counter and behind li *tre the
opva shelve* fiUed in w'ilh bales of dgth. Close by nhtxt
they were nUlinK was a litilc glass-enclosed ofSce. Glancing
citnall^ towtrdt it Mfb* Massey caught a glimpse wirtiin its
dukoes* of a pale anxmtC'IoolcJng girL She had an open ac-
cOufit-bciok on the de^k befor*^ her, bui upon it was ly^Sr
doubted up, a penny novelette. The girl was glancing below
lb« gulUoiine-likc square, where she received money and
luiuled out bills, with eager inTcresi at Lady Ann*.
"Ah," Mr*, Ma^sey said to herself, "the fiamic f And
• penny covdettc ! So he has not persuaded her to take an
inierest in Mr. Vcftt's poetry."
There was a canary singing shrilly som«:wherc cut ul sight.
For the re9t, the air of the shop was oppreisivc, laden with
the minute particles of wooTen atulT. smelling of oil.
The young man stood inflinin^ his charming head. Hf? did
fiot say a word, but waited for these visitors from another
world to speak first.
"I should have shrieked," Mrs. Massey said lo herself, '* if
he had said: 'And whit. Madarn. can I have the pleasure of
•bowing youF* I am so grateful that he did not."
She was glad that Lady Anne had negatived her proposal
that they should become acquainted for themselves with what
ttanncr of man Mother Patrick's paragon was by ordering: a
coal Add skirt. To be sure it wouEdn't fit; but Lady Anne
could hand it over to her maid.
*' I couldn't do that/* Lady Anne had said. '* [ should
have lo weal it if he made it. That ia if he was to be com-
ing and going- He might sec it on Ellison, and how horrible
that would be] "
"And to be sure it would be a ridiculous misfit for Eili-
ton. Very well, then. Donna Quiitote, plunge atrargbt into
tbe natter, in mtdhs rrSt aa the newspapers say."
*' I shall Icnciw as «oon ^i I s«; him, if he is the right kind
of person," Lady Anne had said confidently-
"Vou arc Mr, Randal?" she asked him now sweetly.
-Yea; I am Hu^'h RandaL"
•■ De»r me, he doesn't sav even ' Madam, "" Mrs. Maaicy
smlUd to bcrself. "What an absurd young man 1o conduct a
tailor's buiioetf? Where can he have learned it?"
*' Motbes Patrick, of the Point Convent, has been talking to
98
If Sit Ladyship^
[Oct,
roc about you, or rather talking to my (iknd, Mrs, Masa€>".
J am Lady Ann< Chute, Perhaps you have heard of mc. I
have been trying lo do something for my tenants."
'* I have sren somt of the Mount Shannon work."
HU voice waa ea^cr and yet quiet. The soft brogue
seemed to go with it wonderfully welJ.
" I expect he thinks we're glorified commercta! iraveleri,"
Mrv- Ma»ey thought* Uughtzig silently to herself, " and that
Anne ha& put on her atJurements lo get him a9 a customer
for the Mount Shandon tweeda and Ineies. \ hope she'll bc
quick about enlightening him- 1 can't stand this place much
longer.*'
The swing-door opened, and a good-iooking, vulgar yoang
man came In, He had golden hair and a golden b^ard, ruddy
checks. <inJ blue eyes, ?Te stared At the ladies, thrn hie gare
tran&fcrrcd itaclf to Hugh Randal, There was something s^ui-
%%t\Y chaffing in his expre»«Jon.
"Thf?re's a crease in the back of this coat that destroys
my figure entirely," he said, '"Were you thinking that I
wajited tucks in it? If more convenient I can call at another
tilMi I had no idea you'd be engAgEd."
" Vou can call another lime or you can sec the fitter now/'
Hugh Randall laid with an air of patient dignity. *' If td«
will go into the fitting-rooni I will call down Mr. Allen'"
••Not at all. not ai all," said the oiher jauntily. ^TU look
in Ulef. I want you to see the fitting. I'm sure I'm sorry
I ditturbed you, WcU, so long 1 "
He disappeared through th« swing door, sending bade a«
he went lingering glances at Lady Anne- Impertinent feJlowf
How dared he Mtare! Mrs, Ma£scy thought with half-huiDOr-
OMi IndLgnation- She had no idea that if the china-pots ven-
tured out into lfa« crowded itrfam with those of cominoa clay
tJl€y *llould be eicempE from collisions, confusicns.
"Perhaps, if you wi^h to ^peak to me, Lady Anoe, you aod
Hra. Mauey would not mind coming this way. There may
btf iaterrupitonft here at any moment"
"Jl ouEht to have beeri ' Vour Ladyship aitd Ibe other
Ittdf,'" Mf». Maatcy thought as she got up and follo*^ the
yr^nng man down the narrow passage between the counter acd
\^% wall where they had to walk single file.
At tJic end of the shop he opened a door, half of which
I905-]
ff£x LApysmr.
^
W4» raarFted glass, and stood back to allow the ladks io pre-
ct«d birn. Th*y stepped inio ad old courtyard. Another
bouM faced ihcm wheic they ^tood. There was a covered
balcony and ft flight of «tej>s up lo an open door The bal-
cony wv covered with a creeper ibal was st\\\ leafless,
aJtbough it ihowcd buds Th« sxmtt creeper rin over 4 tretlU
and covered the twn side walls ol the i^uurtyari]. There wrre
teals in tbe courtyard, a couple of Jarge grc«n tubri had shiubs
In lh«R3. There was a pigeon cote on the wall, on the top oi
vhicb some pigeons were sunning thrinEelve^.
"WUi you come Into the house, or would you prefer to sit
here?" Hugb Randal asked- "It's a beautiful mornbg for
the lime of year."
"Oh, here, here/' Mrs> Massey anBwcrccI for both, sitting
dottrn at tbe taJd it on one of the green benches.
Hill hhc wfth not altowcd !□ stay there. With a Eiiutmurrd
protetlation Hugh Randal disappeared into the house and
broiighi out a wieker chair wjlh a soft cushion in it. A little
girl ioWvwtt] him witb a cimilar chair for Lady Anne. She
bad a pale face of the purest oval and silky dark ringlets fell
about it ai the pooped, '* Thank you, Kily dear/' Hugh
Raftda) s^id, at he took the chair from her and set it for
I^dy Anne,
There wma a clattering of sparrows In the creeper. The
ea/iary retumcd hit thrill tinging in the veranda. An old
theep'dof came limping dowti the Meps and rubbed hioiseir
iatinuaiingly agalnit his muter before be lay down beside
**Won't you tit?" Lady Anne asked, tmiling up at the
young man, "U it to be tjuite a long conversation. As a
matter of facti Mr. Randftl, my friends think that I tbuuld
have a roan, 4 man of bnsmets, 10 he^p me about tny indut-
thct. They have pernundcd me to agree with tbctn. I bavc
becD pretty sure of my own busine*a faculties, but — ''
"They are (juilc right/' he liaid with unexpected blunlrcta.
"The Jndutlrict would be the better for a lew plain businrsi
haada. You sec, Lady Anne, the fine ladles and gentlemen
who tak« vp thoiie thingK, thvy mtvt it for want uf bufiine&t
koowkdgc- How cOLiEd they have ic ? The jnduatriet muM
^tmx on a buaiaebB baiti. We can't take leniimtni into con-
tidrfalion.'*
JO
Her Ladyship.
He spoke 4ln)DB( harshly^ but Lady Anne waf not of*
fended. As for Mrs. Massty. she was delighted. She had
often said the £amt thing and had not been laken Eicriously,
"The worst of U," she put in plaintively. *' i* that when
we tty to do any good in the world we are itill only fine
ladieB and gentlemen; and we mess U, as you put il very
dearly/'
He fldbhcd a sudden bright smlie at her which altered the
whole expression of hi» face.
"I atk yot^r pardon for my plain spealcing/' be said.
'* And — 1 didn't mein you, Mrs. Massey- I have often heard
of y^w. Mother Patrick has a great opinion of you.'*
"And I am flattered at Mother l^alrick's great opinion/'
*he said. "1 have a great opinion of her."
"Not to detain you too Jong* Mi, Randal, *' went on Lady
Anne, " Mother Fuiriek thought thai you might be willing to
bVCOtnc my man of business. What do you ihLnk?"
He looked at her for a moment in silence. Then he
■;>oke :
"Mother Patrick perhaps told you that 1 had duties, obli-
gation s."
"She ^aid that you had felt yourself hound to carry on
your father's bnsintsPn but — " she hesitated a moment — "'she
ihou^'ht your abilities were thrown away here. Is there no
one who would carry on the business for you' I could ol^er
you a salary of five hundred a year"
"Five hundred a year," he repealed, contracting his thin
brows-
"Five hundred pounds, my dear AnncF" Mrs. Massey said
to herieif. "Three hundred would hare been quite enough;
oh, Donna Quixote!"
"I should have to do a good deal for you, Lady Anne/'
he went on, ** to be worth five hundred pounds a year"
" There will be a great deal for you to do," she said sweeUy.
"If you hud not the love for the work I should not hope
that you could do It. It han been extending in so many
directions J I have known that it was beyond me for some
time. Mother Patrick thought you would bring the love to it
and the sympathy as well as the knowledge/'
"Mother Patrick was light," he said. "But, you offer m*
too much. What mom ts there for love with a salary of five
19^3
Her Ladyship.
3*
huadred pounds? Thrct hundrcti will be ample. There will
be expcnics when 1 travel, (or I suppose I shall have to
travel i "
*'A DoD 10 the DopnaV Mr^. M^asey thou]i»hl, with h«r
ACDit of hi<li5cn amtiscRicnt.
" Vou will be worth more than five hundred pounds to
" Let ne prove it before you give it to me. Big salprlcfl
hamper enterpritea. May I consult my mothcf, L^y Anne ^
Tho bu=ineM la really hera"
"You e^n allow her the extra two hundred."
"And" — h« w»ivcd the question of the salary — "il is a
long drive from Mount Shiindon to Ardnogowan and back
Again. My mother would wish to offer you some refresh-
mentft.'*
"If you please," pu! in Mrs, Massey before Lady Anne
could decline if she hud been minded to.
" l'I« i> odd and unusual/' she said as soon as he w&s out
ot hearin){, "and eo is this pl<icc, and sq Is the Madonna-like
little girl with the drooping ringlets. I want so mufh if> see
vbftl ihey will ffive us. What will you lake in gloves that it
ua*t ftcedy cake and atrocious sherry?'*
" H il it, you will have to pretend lo enjoy il, Ida. We
can't hurt their feelings. Now that you remind mc ol it, I'm
horribly hungry, t believe I can eat even seedy cake."
The ilAgletted link girl brought a iray In a Few minutes
■nd let it on the green- pain ted iron table in front of thcm.
Tb« tray was covered with a fine dama&k nai^kin — somewhat
tbe worse for wear. It contained a home-made loaf and a
pat of honey-colored butter, a glasis dish of jam, home-made
al»o, a china jug of milk, and a (;oupk of gl^tes- The gl&ts
and cbinii were ^arhUngly dean; there were little servicties
for the u»c of the two ladies.
■*Ah, this is charming, aimple and charming!" said Mrr.
UAiitcy, for|[eMing Mi be amutcd, " Il cuuldn't be served with
nsore refinemeo!. I wonder what the mother is like— -and the
room he has gone into. C^n't you picture it? A round
mahogany table wicli the little girl's «chool-prfzes on it hke
ib« apoke« of a wheel. A gilt clock under a. glass-shade^ A
glaM'ibade of artificial (lowers 3n tbe middle ni the table.
Hex LAvrsHiP.
[Oct,,
r
Shavings Jn the grate and fltms)' chairs with white knillcd
Anrimficasfars-
But there were nojic of these things in the room to which
presently they were conducted, Hugh Randal apologizing that
ihey must come la bis mother, who was almost crippled wilb
rbeumatUiu and had one of h«r bad daya.
The room, on the contrary, was furnl&hed with good,
rather heavy, furniture, the chairs oncl sofa covered in old
chinii which had faded through maEiy washings, but was still
bcautTful. Th^re were a couple of ail paintings on the wall,
family portraits apparenily. and some colored prints which
looked genujii<H The floor had a clean white drtigget on, and
there was not an antimacassar lo be seen.
The mother with her phcid. fresh colored face and peace-
ful brown eyes matched the restfulness of the room, H«r
gracitms manners had ihe h^ppy escape from servtltly which
one knows in the manners of Irish country people- She was
kindly anxious leal the ladies should have been chilled in the
courtyard, hoped ihcy had been able to eat somclhing, begged
them lo sil by the little bright fire, because February fair-
ness was often treacherous, the ground being damp^
She wa& willing that her eon should accept Lady Anne's
offer-
"Sure he hadn't his hear! in the shop, though he was will-
ing to do it for us." &he said- " And he has a good man who
will carry it on lor him. Indeed, my lady, 1 can give you a
good character of hitn. although perhaps I shouldn't talk about
ray own."
" t| was all perfect," Mrs, Maasey conceded afterwards:
and the young maji is amaringly like a gentleman. I4e doesn't
quite know what to do with his leet and hands. But^ to be
sure, that's lo be expected-"
"Was he awkward?" Lady Anne asked. "I didn't notice.
I'm sure he will do. How unexpected it all was! I wonder
what the young man with [he golden beard will say when he
finds that he cannot have his fitting juperiniendcd after all!"
1905']
II£R LAl^ySiilP,
»
ClTAPTClt XI.
A (IKIMT LADT.
A month \MXtt Lady Anne wn^ in DublEn wlih Mrs^ Mds-
>ey, having \th Hn^h Kan<tal in charge of her concerng.
It was with gQme rducunce thai ^he had consented to Ibis
holiday. Her iriea of a holiday, she ^&.^ ^aid, was to bf doin^
ib« ffoik she liked; which remark excited Mrs. Massey's de-
li^ion,
*' S»y that when you're forty." she answered, **and V\\
AppUud you. There's nothing like congenj'al occupation for
ke«pin£ lh« middJs-agcd woman young and happy. I remfim*-
bcr when I look Lip card-playing aa a refuge against n duU
M Ikgc, but i\\ tk worrying kind of diversion at best — not in
it wilh honest work. But at your age* Anne, one do«n't sing
^<tli« pnise« of wofk,"
"Am 1 to go right through this Cistle season, while the
d^odiU art dancing on the lawn at Mount Shandon and the
bird* ar« ahouting their love aongaP Right up to the late
Ea«er? '
"Vou an to do thai and more, Aiine^ for when Haster
luiiibe« the Cattle season t 4m going to take you abroad,"
•• 1 Ihao't go."
"Oh. yt9. you will, You ought to have been made to take
the Orand Tour, like the Kmart young men of tong ago. Yoa
arc ■ njttic, Anne Think of never having seen the worid at
twcdiy-r^ve yean old, and you a great heiresf 1 Genoa, Flo*
rence, Vcaicc, Ronicl Don'L (he na-me^ fire your iniaginalion ?
1 could not go back there, Anne, with anybody but you. But
I iball Uke 10 go wilh you. Going with you I shall iorget
that I am a lonely invalid, tied for many days of the year to
J-ny sofa, t shall be able to endure my memories. Indeed, it
will be iwc«t to go back. 1 have been too long without cour-
age 10 revisit my sacred places."
Il WBA (o seldom thai Mrs. Mnsfiey was In the mood to
talk of her EWrrow?! that Lady Anne scarcely dared breath lest
ahc should hurt her. Dut In a second the mood wa^ K<^ne:i
"Let U!» Uke M]3^ Chtvmix," ?ihc ^taid quite gaJly^ *' and
our loaids, Icit we be takea for American tourisE4. Do you
VOt- LXXXll,.— J
r
34 ^^^ Her ladyship. [Oct.,
suppose r.ord Dunlaverocfe would conseftt to squire us ^ Not
that we should need him. My Kftt<^ ts up to the tricks of all
the couriers a^nd hotei-keepers in Europe. Why, I am do-
lighted to be going 1 "
^■Sr> am \. {{ you are," Lady Anne said. "Btil^how long
will you keep me awayP"
"Three manths. After that the mosquilocs and the tour-
iits will come in [:l(Jnds,"
'* What wiJ] be happening at Mount Shandon?"
" Vqu will go home lo find the factory working and a big
stretch of the bog become fat. arttble land. Oh^ you needn't
think you can't be done without ! You've gtven ibis young
man plenary powcrtH 1 believe he'd have asked for them M
you hadn't given them. 1 will say that he ia admirable; he
works tike a madman, only with more molhad."
" He is coming this evening to let me know about the
London shop."
"My dear Anne, this evening? Hivc you forgotten that
you are to be presented to his Majesty's representative to-
night ? '
"I have not lorgotten/'
"If you were anybody but Anne Chute you would be ly-
ing dowii| res(ing for the great event of ihe nighl- Do you
know that the secret of perpetuaJ beauty is to He in bed one
day out of fcvcn, living only on hot milk and thinking of
nothing ?"
" It doesn't interest me, since I have no beauty. But I
couldn't do it if It was to make me like Helen of Troy. H^w
could one ihirk of nothing?"
"A great many people get through life very comfortably
thinking of nothing. Why don'i you sii down? You're not
going out again?'*
" I promised Miss Arlington lo run out w^tt her in hef
motor car lo see the Dun Emer industries, I shall be back
by six o'clock. Meanwhile you are to rest."
" Vou'li have a red nose and a tousled bead, Think of aTl
the frights his Excellency has to kiss, and spare him and
yourself!"
Lady Anne laughed, She was accustomed to her friend"*
uncomplimentary speeches, She stooped and kissed her on the
soft fair cheek, still cbarmiitg despite lorrow and sicknets.
t9o$.^
IfSa LADYSNiP.
" It 13 a pity that yoxi are not the ficlutantt Justtad of me,"
«he iftid. *"Now. sleep if you can, I've lucked youi rug in
eOQjf^rt&bly. Barring accident \'\\ be 'bactc by six,"
^'Hcaveq fofEive mcl" Mfs. Massey said aloud as she w^rnt
out— th^re wa» no one I o hear hef except Lady Atine*s French
bulldog, who had accompanied his niistrcs? to DubEin, "Hea-
ven forgive m« fcr the things I s^^y to hei, my beautiful, big
Anne. She 'a plain and bcauiiful, >esi not a bjt like )cu, Pip-
pip; I am not lalking about you, you conccitttl dog] You're
[hideotiB and bttautifut, and that makes all the dttTeicnce/'
Lftdy Anne whs in by six o'clock, bringing an air of ihe
country fresbness and life with her.
"My dear Anne," laid Mrs. MasEty, looking up at her.
" I «ha]] call you the Dtg \VJnd, you positively create a draught
III the room^ The man's waiting to do your hair- Poor
wr«lch, he hat to do twenty heads after yours. Fancy having
to please twenty wom«n E "
" rd belter go," Lady Anne said, not noticing these fc-
tnark«. "Mr- Randal will probably be here by seven, I can
be drcaied by tben."
"You'll frighten the young man out of his lifc^ You don't
forgot. I tuppoftc, thnt Sir Richard March and his two glrli and
young Pultcney and my godtou. Godfrey Rachhan — I always
»ayit ought to be Kackreni — are dinmg here tn £ritnde urtae ;
and that dinner must be over by ten it we're to reach the
Cwilc to-night?"
"J» it likely I should forget?"
About ten minutes to seven Mr. Hugh Randal waa an-
nounced. Mnt. Maiftey was ju£t about to go upstairs to make
her Toilette when he cninc in. She greeted htm with a cordi*
alily which amazed and amused hcrBClf.
''If you wilt take a cbait, Mr. Randal," ahe £aid kindly^
" l^dy Anne will be down in a few minutes. She told me she
was expecting you. And how is everything going on?"
"Quite satisfac lordly,'' he £aid. " I have heard of a good
openings Whjr should not the War Office place some of its
'Contracts vith us } I believe it wit! as soon as we get thingi
into order. I have almost an assurance from — " he mentioned
■ prominent official's name — "that they will."
"Ah I Lftdy Anno will be enchanted. I am only afraid
Ihat we may make a Liverpool or Manchester of Mount Shan*
•
r
dotii Oon t let us become too much of a commercial 3ucct££
There, am not I illngical? Perhaps il's <nvy of Mount Shan-
don's superior good luck- PLcasc excuse mc, Mr. Randal. 1
have li> go. We make our bow to ibe Lord I.Eeutcnant tO'
night, iirid my maid is wailing for me."
Sh« \th him Jtinding by the mantel-piccc, holdifig hia soft
hat in hiA hand. He was dressed carelessly in rough hcmc-
Bi>uni», l>^t Ihey became him, and apparently he had made ft
ftii|;ht toilet, for ihe staCns of travel were removed^ He looked
cteian, alertp bri^ht-eycd, as Mrs. Masaey glanced back at him
bo(or« c1o»ng the door.
*' llc't a bit of a problem," she said :o hcriclf as she went
up the itaJrs. " It's diHicuIt lo know how to treat him. There
w*t yourself, Ida Ma&scy, yoa couldn't hav^ been warmer to
him H ^^ ^^^ ^ff^ii ^^At rftp^caltton, your godson. That's the
v/orst of having for a buBtnesB man a young man who is the
proprietor of a small tailor's shop in a country town, yet car-
ries Mr. Veal's poetry in hb pocket.'*
He wai not many minutes alon<. He heard the door open
iLnd ^lAn^cd Eowaidt it ; then advanced a step or two. He had
naver before seen a lady in court dress, or in any bui the
simplest evening dress^ Instinctively he put his band up as
thoui^^h to fhadc his eyt5.
Lady Anne swept towards him, the glimmering glories of
ber train (ollowing her. She had dropped it from her arm as
fhe came In and now It spread out its sheeny lusirt far be-
hind her- She was in white, her presentation dress, but there
was a faint iine of gold in the train. About her neck were
the large moony pcarli? which were among the most prccioux
of h^r family jewels. A string of pearls wound in find out
utnong the ojptrich feathers in her dark hair Other strings went
Cine alter the other down her bodice, making her a siom&clicr
of the jewel*. Her beautiful arms were clasped with pearl
bracelets. There were pearls in the knots of ribbon and pro*
CLOUS locc at her shouldeis.
She wat magni5cent in her fine feathers, so magnif^ceot
ihat Hugh Randal looked at her in a daiiled way.
" Yoi" see the world has dragged me into il£ net," she
said, " [ was very well content with Mount Shandon. But
Mrs. Massey would have it that I was not fullilLing the dtities
of my stale in life. So 1 go to Couri. Now, sit down and
i90S.]
MER LADYSMIP.
37
uU m« everything We shall be undr^turbcd for Ihe next hour
%\ least, t'lrat about the South Audky Street ihop."
"It will be possjble to Liu/ tbe rcase, I dun't Ihinh wv
qt]){ht tQ t«t it go- 1 have the letters about i1."
He took « p<icIm-book from an fnner pocket, opened it, ptit-
duced eoEDe letters and smoothed them tiut, holding them to-
wanU the light. She had talfcn a chair quite close to his, and
M he explained the contents of the letters she leant towardd
him, tbitiking only of the things that hiterefled her, HrrlAeca
elmoal touched him. He could see ihe pearls rise and fall on
her bosom. She wa3 like a goddess condescending to tome
poor iQDital, lo frftnkp go fair, £o k!nd.
" Yon must have yivflu yourself no rest/' the said reproach-
fflUjp. ''Why, you only led Mount Shandon two dayR ago/'
He had an impulse to aniiwar thai he could not feel fa-
tigued ID her Rcrvicc, but i^byness lesEraincd hrm. As a cnal-
icr of faet> since th«t dfiy when L&dy Anne had ccmtt into the
ihop, he had ihousht a deal about her. He bad talked a deal
about bet to lonjf at br svfl^ near ibat incgl patient and aym-
patheiic listener, Mary Hyland, the girl he had left behind
hlfn In Ardcagowan. All that day after the wonderful vision
he had talked to Mary about it, leaning into the little dark
ofice through the guillotine window with his hands rumpling
up bis hair. Mary bad understood and had sympailiUed,
She had often been called tin for understanding and sympathy
before, and had ijjlven the latter without being able to give
the former, ICugh Randal had not discovered the lack She
bftd looked no gently at bim nut of her fond, true gi^^y eyes
while be read to her *'Tbe Man Chat Dreamed of Pairyiand'*
ind "The Fo:ic of the Air'' and '-The Lake Island of Ims-
free," that be had been tLatibfjEd.
But Lady Anne was something she could understand. So
that was how in real life the Ladies Klajne and Itcuh of her
novelettes looked 1 She had not been satisfied with the wil-
lovy ami eloagalcd dAm^rts ihc had seen In the pictures. So
that was how they looked in real life I No wonder ihc lords
and duke* nod baronetK were \q infatuated ^bcut ihem !
For the first tu^ie Mary's f*iiry-st"rie5 fCfllLy atui truly hvrd
(or her. Lady Anne had paused by the window as she left
Ike abop and had spokfin to her kindly, making Mary her
slave for life, Kugh'« raptures on the subject ufteiwafds owly
H£ii Ladyship. [Ocl,
^
tMOiDd to make her own tbou^fhtE arlLGuUl«> She nodded her
UKnt witk 4rdcnc cyc», and if she had not been inarticulate
by naiurfi »he would have ndded extravagances of h^r owq^
A< f jf being jcilout ol those raptures, it was ihe lofit thing in
ihe urorld Mary would have thought of. And inc^eed there
wai no c<iu4e fcir jealuitsy About th« yotJUg man's altitude,
which wmt ttt idcalUed loyalty. So might the subject q{ a
bMUtiful Aftd G»radou> qacen have felt towards her: and allow-
ing for i\kt di^ereftce, the es«enii^ di^erenee in lemperament
and MX, Mary fell pretty weM a» Hush felt.
To be i«re he had seen Lady Anne many times since
Bl«ry had, and ht» devoiion had incrcAscd with every meeting.
She wa» too far above him to atTcct him, ac leaat consciously,
AS « wonam aflccta ft man. That was a presuniption out of
•ifiht for 11u|[h Randal. Hvcc on this occasion, when her
beauty wai so aear him, when the scent of her hair and her
wonderful i;arine:nu tloaled out and seemed to cling to him^
•h« wat a ^oddeai and not a woman. The moony lustre of
b«t pearls made him think of the moon, but he did not go
%n tu think ol Kndymion,
NothiAK in ^1 '^i* 'i'* ^'^^ ^^ stirred and awakpned the
1at«tit poetry in him before. He had known Mary Hyland
froua cbiMhni>d. Ho had Always been so familiar wUh her
If^oba ihAt be could hardly have toEd if she was plain or pretty.
Aa a maiCar of fact, »he was sallow, with a longish nose and
pal* llp« and limp, soft light hair- Ineigniricant, moEt pfo.
pit would have cfilled her who hud not noticed, or had no
tsBimg (or, the boauty of her unworldly eyes.
Hugh had always been so fond of her, in a way so de-
jitndeni on her, thai it had been easy for him to become her
Uvar- n hia love for her did not rise to the exacting idecJs
ol bJa |)o«try, well, perhaps it was a better kind of love; and
lilt nilier did not occur often, he was sure, in the humdrum,
mtddlo'clatK life amid which he had grown up. It would be
■liange i( he did not love Mary, seeing the gteatnes^ of her
ftlmplc belief In, and admiration fof, him.
The clock on the mantel-picco Mruck eight. How the time
bad ]1(>wn I lie muit gO-
"I will write whatever remains to be sftid. Lady Anne,"
fcv woe pmiinn bit papers away huiily, *'and you wili be
bikme at iUster?"
I905-]
ifEtt Ladyship.
39
'* The weelc before Ea&tcT, I long to see how things have
b««Ji geiting on."
"We »hall do our best to be well advanced wiih all the
work/'
He stcod up to go.
"Won't you dire w[ih us?" said Lady Anne- *' We shall
h&ve to leave you immediately after dinner^ t£ yoti will cxcuM
tb«t. Your clothes? Ohj well, we shall all know thai you
u« t traveler, and excuse you."
He had coi as a matter of fact been thinking particularly
about hU ctolhes. He tiaii only a very haxy idea of the
world where dressing for dinner i* a law as inexorable a* the
law* of the Mcdcs and Persians. Ihs clothes were very good
clothes so far as he knew, He had been feeling rough, un-
couth, a clod-hopper, at intervals during that hour wiih Lady
Anae, but he would have felt so if he were dad in the fmest
gvmrnts that ever came out of Savlle Raw.
He hesitated.
"Pray. *tay," Lady Anne *aid kindly. "Vou don't know
one in Dublin, do you? ' 1 thought not. Then you must
flay."
Mrs. Ma5sey came in in gray poplin and Mechlin Uce,
Sb« ({lanced at Hugh Randal half-inquiiingly.
"Mr. Randal will dine with us," Lftdy Anne said.
"Oh, I am very glad/" Mrs. Massey anewered. and felt
thai the speech sounded halting and insincere.
Chatter XH.
Tilt: PAl tHKT i-uvtu.
It made things conceivably easier for Hugh Randal in his
bomtipunx that the other maJe guests were in court drcts, and
the differe&ce between them less marked than if they had
been in ordinary evening attire — that is, if he had thought
about it at all, which was unlilcdy enough.
The otbefE of ihe party were too well-bred to »how jvr*
pnK al their feilow-guuM, and perhaps his presence there
tcandalixed no one «o much as the servants. Ho committed no
40
HSR Lavysnip,
(Oct..
wr^ ttMfttm^ sokdsm^, and he was engaged kindfy rn convcrtA-
tIo& by Sir John March, the cldeHy judge who had been the
U<e Lord Sh»ndon's friend, and had the panner towards Lady
Anne of n father to a much-loved and rather spoiled daugh-
ter.
The conversation fell into quaneia. The Judge and Hugh
Raniiiil, MrA. Mas^ey and Lady Anne; the Judge's daughters
and the two young men were chattering gaily of the things
pro|Jer to their thoughtless youth,
Hugh Randal would have been quite content 1o be silent
■ad ii«en; but Ihe Judge, who had been looking at him from
under his heavy browj in an interested way. (ound out ihat he
had things to say. and would have them said
To be *ure the rough clothes showed oddly among the
velvet tuitfi aide by side with the chiffons a-d silks and lacea.
No one wAii consciouE of the oddity, apparently^ unless U
might be the family butler, who had been lent wiih Ihe house
to Mrs. Mai&ey, and now wore a gfievcd and anxious expres-
sion. The amusement MrSn Masscy derived from Dignam's
face consoled her for much.
"My dear Anne," she began, as soon as they were alone
in the carriage, "what di(I you mean by asking that young
man to dine with us? He ought to have had his dinner
downslair*, tn^ the housekeeper's room, if you objected to the
servants' hall. But, indeed, sandwiches and wine in the morn-
ing room would have met all the requircmenta of the case."
"1 was thinking how very well he ai:[]uilled himseir/' Lady
Anne *aid ; she was accustomed to take her Inend's ratings un-
seriously- "Sir John found him most Intcnigeni. He con-
gratulated me warmly on such a find."
"They were all thinking you aa mad as a hatter for a^kinf
thero to sit down with him. To be sure Godfrey didn't dare
raise hie eyebfo^VE, he knew I was watching him. but he raised
them in his own mind. And ihose March girls;. They did
look at each other. I don't suppose Sir John thought his
■daughters ought to have been asked to meet this young man
on c'lual terms, 1 don't ihink young Pulieney m:ndcd so
muchp being from London. They're not half £o particular in
London."
"They have more sense."
" Don't ask people at Tdount Shandon to meet Mr. Hugh
3905-]
T£X lADrSff/fi,
4t
Rtnd&l in « frieze euii at dinner. There are limits to what
lti« county wilT alrtnil, t^ven from you."
"If / don't object. I don't stt how anybody else could.'*
"Ah, ih«re Apeiks Ihc famiJy pride! You are really
prou<!«r than any of us,"
"But not in such little wny* "
"No; I acknowledge there is nothing very Iflll* about youn
Still, it iDight be kinder perhaps — "
She did net finUh the speech, bnt sat client for n moment.
Bji tbia tiniG tfacy were in xhc lorg queue of carrja^'cs extcnd-
inf down Darna Street. waUing their turn for admittance lo
Cht Luwrr Caslir? Vard.
"The poor fellow," she went on then. "He is really very
Ttll-bchav ed. I should have boiL^d Godfrey's vAts \i he had
f'vn twitched an eyebrow. I wonder it Dlgnam will give
C notice. It would be very awkward^ considering we have only
a \otn of him. Lady Bulteel would not be obliged,''
"Di^naml Why ahoutd Dignam give notiecr"
Mr^ MftiSaey leant back in the carrirtge and waa momentar*
fly inarticulate. When she had recovered herself (he ^aid in a
talce from which the laughter va± dying away:
"1 ihall remember Dlgnam's face lill I die. More in *or*
row than in anger it looked. Vour/ri^/f/ cut up his asparagufl
wiib a knife and fork. I believe he managed to eat some
of the ilriagf part- If he'd been a woman he would have
inichcd 10 fc« how the others did it. T thought DiGnam
would have fainted."
"1 don't think I>]gnAm*a feelings need be considered.
And what does it matter bow he ears asparagus r"
*' Don't pul him where oihcr« wif] notice it,^*
•' Ob, he'll iearn quickly. And I can't be expected to tel
him ^t> unfed from Mount Shandon if I should happen to
bare ftome of tha neighbor's dining with mc> I expect h«*ll
gel a dr<a*-aiiTt in time"
"He may even make ir"
" I don't think I shall pro him time for that." said
l^ny Anne in n »iight!y neftCed tone.
After all. her attitude towards Hugh Randal received its
fiftaJ seal and oonfirmatLon when during Easter week Dunlavc*
rock nn ovor to see Anne brfurt she should be carried ofl by
Mrs. Maasey to Italy. At the fir»t meeting with the young
4»
HEM
OYSHIP.
r
foan Ik «■■ do
bin Tte liM
wu to doe wiA
It
Um
tad ratervftd. At th« ocxt he ulkcd i
■e W Aa«ul pleasare *t hearing ihat t
••- Mtm^ Husey bippened to be preset
aU fcftt resist tarniae simI smiling « he
^•^ *l*<NiWefs *fld lidcd her cyebroiv
Aa»e ■ trwuMBl of tbe joiing man moi
TW7 lad hiiif^ tfce l««^ of tb« South Aodlcy Strc(
ibopt n« fMpntioa* foe op«sia( it cnuilcd tBAtxy Hyin
rwts «ft 4b pvt ol H«^ Rladftl 10 Loocloo. They hoped t
^«« M J«w^ vkilB tbe T^< 1 nil tt«5 3r*t to full svine-
-'Wlft X«a be «Mft to d» it all?" Ladjr Acne asked. "
4iftt l«^ 4*te «str IK BT tti^ abovt going avay and leav
*l» vft W aoftft; f«« may be sure o4 it. Lady Anne,
'. Thftf wv on tbe «bdtefcd tawn i:
' Aaae bad $ai <k>wn on a seat cu
Hi^
ftutdtne by the fountain
vaten to fall in show«r& oi
"Iiwas a gc^ hour \vk whid
MM wm. t* Imi^ Cm ]roa.
«%
wt te'm a
And that remind
od the shop whej
nt ftMh of gratifieation whicl
IB bh check,
»" aW a^^. "Is it pOrAsible 1
fUt «l yottr haowledge and devc
W ipMk to yw about thai, t-ady Ann<
»^ Hrteair Ym u» her the day yo
^^ Ui hiAn <itw«> M« Mift bcf. Now thai 1 am n
^ttm^ 4**^ ^ «• «M t% on b«f o«l l&lo the countr
% ta% iWMfc»>' $W K ^ iboft, frttting. 5kc has a
i> » »»fcte» H >v^ i.«4^riikl|^ Mid kbv wtll luake a goo
if4 bikMlEMML WiH y«t M b«t iuaaK« ihr f^op? Sh
^Jbx nW «a«knA ^4bM Oa b** 1^ to please yon."
^ xSa «* «M» )^W^>M«I^««^ Wby. 1 only mu her once."
l^o$.
Her LADYSHfP,
4$
"Whftl does \x m&tter?" His ihcru|;hu went swiflty to him
in til* " f[and and Soul/' of Dante Rossetii, who grew faint in
fight of j>unscts and stately persons. He had been used 10
l«iigh <t Mary's unliterary readiTig ; yet much knowledge of
her charflctcr had told him that she brought something to the
nading which waj not there Someglarnor ffom her own eyes
WIS ihed on the prepoaierous creatUTcB of the poor literary
hack who turned out the stories which she read so greedily.
"Wary adorci 'y^itx. There is nothidj^ she would not do to
plciue you, Lady Anne."
'*But^t it not too great a sacrifice? There are only ten
miles between Moijnt Shandon and Ardnagowan. There are
many hundreds belike? rt Mount Sharidon and Sculh Audtey
Street,"
"1 should noi have much business in Ardnagowan. My
iDOtber has made up her mind to sell the shop to AUen, the
man who is now managing for U5, At her age she finds ihc
pUce duii without a sou coming and going. She wants to be
nearer to mc. So Mary would have X^i go back to her parents
er to ftrtn^r*. for she will not stay with the new owner, I
ihall come and go a good deal between Mount Sh^ndon and
Soatb Audicy Street once the business is established.'^
"I »ec," Lady Anne looked at him benevolently. She had
ti £rtit a detife aft ever had any young woman, In whose
bUnSs ^rwt power has been placed^ to play Providence to her
humbler fellow- creatures. Why should they noi marry aoon >
To be sure she cotild not ^pare Hugh Kandal. But prcftcnity
«be would give tbem ^ house on the estate. She would build
ooe ppecially for them. They could be near her, those two so
dtvoted to her Devotion wa^ a» delightful a thing to her as
though nhe had not had it all her life long.
"Where did you think cf catablishing your mother)'* she
aiiced.
"I bavt found nothjn}; very Bultable. Thvre ib that cot*
face on the glebe-land at UrumcMff- The rooms arc rather
daik and It unclls damp. There i» so little choice."
"Why not the <hdUtT" she aaked. "To be iute I havca
scheme for pari of It- I want Aome friendii of Miss Chcvcnix's
to come aod liix there till they die. They are poorUdica;
there will alwayft be poor Iftdie* to take ihelr places as they
go. I mean lo rtidnw it. But the chtiht divides very com-
44 Her Ladyship. [Oct,
fortably in half. There are two entrances. There is only to
lock a door or two in the inside of the house to make two
houses."
"It would be delightful. Lady Anne, but I never dared to
think of such a thing for my mother. The ckdUt has been
lived in always by some member of the family."
"Maiden aunts and cousins. I have none who would come
except Miss Chevemx, and I can^t spare hcT. Later, when the
bog is all reclaimed, and we have built houses there, your
mother might move if she chose/'
Lord Dunlaverock and Colonel Leonard came towards them
across the grass. They had been to a distant horse-fair which
was one of the events of the year in those parts. Hard on
their heels followed a rout of young Osbornes. The boys who
had been Lady Anne's playmates were now scatteredj one ad-
ministering English justice in the Punjab, another building
bridges in Burma. But there were half a dozen younger one»,
of whom the boys were ftt school, except the one who now
accompanied his pinklcheeked, soft -voiced sisters, Robin, a
naval cadet from the Britannia.
Amid the confusion of the greetings, for the Rectory folk
were as much at home at Mount Shandon as ever Anne had
been at the Rectory in her childish days, Hugh Randal quietly
disappeared. It was pay day at the works of the factory, and
by the time he got there the wives of the workmen, their
heads hooded in shawls, would be waiting for the weekly wage
that was to be turned into flour and meal and tea and sugar
at the grocer's shop that had sprung up, with extraordinary
prevision of business to comCi not far from the site of the
factory.
Colonel Leonard, who had not altogether approved of find-
ing Lady Anne chatting to her foreman, as the Colonel called
him, with such an air of friendliness, could not but acknowK
edge that the young man did not force his society where it
was not wanted. He had heard from young Rackhan of the
occasion on which the " foreman " had dined with Lady Anne's
guests. It reminded the Colonel of a visit he had paid to an
English Radical peer, when the son of a blacksmith — who was
a much greater man than the peer, although Colonel Leonard
did not know It— had not only come to lunch, but had been
1^%'
fER LADYSHIP.
45
Irottvd u B person of importance The memory vnadc the
Colonel tremble wish iTidlgnation to ihb day.
Il kDnoyoti him wlit^ii Dmilaverock, <lJ»covcHng Hugh Rmn"
dat't abteoce, openly regretted it-
"Why did thn fellow vanish [ikelhat?*' he asked. "There
were so miiny things I wanied to ask bim about. I suppose
I »halJ hflve to slrolJ over to the factory later on and smoke
a pipe with hin]>"
It annoyrrd the Colonel excessively. The idea of Lord
PvflUvcroch smoktng a pipi^ with a man who had a small
tailor's ibop iti Ardnagowian F The Colonel could have done
■t, bat not on lermt^ of equality- that was tbi* diffeirnce- He
bad once it«n in an English village ilie a4iuirc, who was the
grandson of two Dukes, smoking a friendly pipe wilh the agri-
Cnittira] labot vis whom lie bad captained in a crickel-match that
»ame afternoon. Iteming against a whitewnthcd wall, too, like
any yokel. Itfltcniiit; to the siones of the new policeman, who
wax a traveled man. It was a condescension ibe Colonel could
Dot have cmuUted, Not, to be sure, that it implied any real
equality, but only the friendUnese of the feudal lord esiablUhcd
lime out of mind to the humble neighbors and dependents, who
had time out of mind lived by favor of his forbearK. Still the
Colonel wai glad iuch things did not happen in Ireland-
It waa the last evening of DunLaverock'a stay, y^X he left
Aiifte in the mid»t of her tillle court and walked across to
iiaokc that pipe with Hufph Randal, who bad a little wooden
bouse of 4 couple of rootns, temporarily <un up by ihc lake-
#de for htA nHe.
Wbcn he came back he overtook Lady Anne in the long
avenue of elms.
"I walWod a little way ivith thobne chJMren," she ejiplained,
ajid 1 dawdled coming back, hoping you might overlflke me."
"That waa good of you, Anne," he aajd gratefully, 1 sup-
pose you remembered that we should nut meet for some iime,*'
"I dan't want to leave Mount Shandon very much," she
■■Id; "yet it \% going to be ddighiful. It is go gocd of Ida
to take me. You know her husband and child died at Florence
«nd arc buried there. It in the first time since that she will
have revisited tbe place- Cousin Ana^tasia is as excited as I
ailL I wUb we could have laLen Miss Giaham and Pjp-plp."
46 HER LADYSHIP. [Oct.
*'It is going to be ei really good holiday?"
" I am going to foi^ct that I am leaving all my interests
behind. In good hands* I grant you. Mr. Randal will write
constantly."
The afternoon sun was full on the broad avenue of elms.
As they walked along slowly her white dresa was now in gol-
den light, now in dappled shadow, for the leaves were out on
the trees. The sun on her hair was as on deep waters^ and
as she looked up at him under her dark lashes her eyes were
now golden light* now mysterious shadow.
For the first time he referred to what had passed between
them more than two years ago.
" T am half way through the period of my probation, Anne>"
he said. *' I shall be glad when it is at an end." And then
jealously: *' I believe the things you are interested in engross
you to the exclusion of me; they push me out.'*
"And the things you are interested in must push me out,"
she answered, '' One can't have two engrossing interests.
Wait till the five years are up, Alastair"
"I shall have to wait," he said, "with what patience I
may/'
(TO £E CONTINUED.)
AUSTRrA-HUNGARY,
HK cmpir* of Austria-Hungary is the scene to-
day of widcsprcBd political agUaEion. It is up-
set by the conflEct of many forcee;, somv of
which arc old, some young and big with prom-
ise. So far does the condici at times extend,
thai the iiatc of tKe country fairly approaches anarchy- The
double n*mc iucif describes the nature of the dualfftic gov-
ertimeot which, since 1S67, has ruled the empire.
A ttiitria- Hungary is ai present a crude mosaic; a mixtuie
oJ heterogeneous clementSr Though connected one with the
other, Aiid ihaHftg in a mutually common government, ihetc
elmicnls have kept themseUcs quite distinct, perpetuated
thcmi^lve^ HK lepurate peoples, aud retained thetr racial nnd
territorial individualiiy. Few real unions or assimilations have
occumd among them and, lo-day. viewed horn any point,
Anatrla-Hungflry is a veritable Babel.
The empire was founded in (5^6, when combinations of
royal marriaf;«s and successions joined, but did not unite,
the heirtlilAry fUte& of Austria, ihe kiitgdum of BohcmiB,
and the kingdom of Hungary under the sole sceptre of the
KapfcburifS^ Beginning tviih great power In ibc upper valley
of the Rhine in Switzerland, in Alsace, and in Swabia. where
\l is now bur a memory, the houi^e of Hapsburg has been
dedtined to move Ktowly toward the ea^l, and to become more
and more an Eastern empire. Because of thin, 11 has reigned
during four centuries over ihe whole of the middle Danube
and iti dcpecidencicSj and aa tuch we see it, at the end of
Ibe nineteenth eenlury, at the gate of the Ralkans.
The hereditary dominions ol Austria extend along the
florthetsiern part of the Alps. lo the port of Trieste, and up
hr0fl](h Lh« Viennvie Ijatnin Lif ihr Danube. A tine Ihus
drawn is the old jouthcastern mauhe of the Holy Roman
plre The IndepcndcTit kingdom of 3tohemia includes 80-
•nia proper, a rich ba^in in whJdi the Elbe iiAca, atd which.
4S AUSTRiA-HUNGARY. [Oct.,
bounded on all sides by bigb mountains, is a natural citadel
commanding the plains and plateaux of Central Europe; Si-
lesidf or the upper valley of the Oder, an industrial region,
the greater- pare of which was taken from Austria in the eigh-
teenth century by the Prussians ; Moravia, a large and fertile
tract which slopes from the highlands that separate it from
Silesia towards Che Danube, bordering it between Vienna and
Fressburg. The kingdom of Hungary (whose fate was shared
by its very old associate, the kingdom of ' Croatia), extends
from the shore of the Adriatic to the joint confluence of the
Drave and the Save with the Danube, and the Russian border.
In its territory it includes vast regions of Hat land extremely
fertile, the mountainous regions of the Carpathians, and the
plateau of Transylvania, which bounds the plains of the Hun-
garian Danube and the Theiss.
Austria Hungary has in times past also possessed countricE
since lost, such as Belgium, a great part of Italy, not to men-
tion the hegemony of Germany. But, on the other hand, the
empire, during the centuries smcc 1526, has acquired and still
possesses important provinces, such as Galicia, secured in the
eighteenth century in the partition of Poland; and Dalmatia,
a narrow sinp along the Adriatic. Bosnia- Herzegovina also
are under the administration of Austria-Hungary, but, as a re-
sult of the Berlin Treaty of 1S73, they own Turkey suzerain.
These principalities are at once the hinterland of Dalmatia and
the outpost of the empire with regard to the Balkans and
Salon iki.
This short summary will give some idea of the veritable
harlequin coat that clothes the empire of Austria-Hungary^-ai
least when viewed from the side of history. And this is the
capital view'point in the eyes of the great majority of states-
men and scholars of Central Europe, so deeply impregnated are
they with the medixval feudal spirit, so respectful and tena-
cious of ancient parchments and of "what has been."
From the ethnical side, the complex and heterogeneous na-
ture of the empire is even more my
tban bef irttidLtional Austrian adversary. To sum up. if the
war for the diimembernjcnl of A ustria< Hungary ever breal^s
out, it Will be a auug^li: in which, according Lo ail probabrli>
tie*, the house of Hapsburg will not be isolated. This leacs
Dftc to believe the more £rmly thai the abundant energies cf
ibe German Empire will be turned toward other countries and
Dlher terrilory. Yet it wilJ be diriicult for Austria, ancient
and fleceaiary to Europi; ae «ho i«, to fejuvenatv herself by
Mcratiioi withi>ut shaking all Europe; and only by federah'am
can Audria be saved.
'LL th* mornmg 1 wrot« hard — an anide ha<J to
be finished, Jn ihe nfternoon I had a Dorcas
meeting, To be candid^ I much prcfff to handle
a pen or a pencil than a needle; tot. after several
futiic aUeinpls at threading \t. I an obliged ici
admit failure. Vet with a gun I can 5hoat straight RhI, a*
one conscious of her own ]tmiution£, I iisuaJly adhere l? k
darning needle^ which has an ogling eye, and — 1 live in dread
of a weekly exposure. Feminine women arc refenlJess; and
the sewing womui it were well to propitiate.
Therefore, though I myself hue work parties, I find, ai a
aocial worker among the pooTcr brethrenn that a work pfirly i^
not only expedient but essential. And, as a necessary conse-
quence, I am 111 charge of k. The situation js not withi^ut
humor to my friends.
Por mysdf. I may confess that I dread that TaWtha meet-
ing, as some do the baililTp And before 1 have anything pre-
pared the bell rtag«; after which feminine people arrive, in a
thtn trickle, for the Test of the afternoon, Social amenities
over, I see their eyes sweeping the room for cut out gar-
ments — the leminirte women always expect everything to be
cut out and pinned, on their arrival.
This instantly forces me into an apologetic attitude^ which
1 may say is quite abnormal to nte. Human life, as 1 venture
to remind them, consists of mnny illusions and a few disillti-
tionh "Which means to say?" — the followers of Dorcas are
all practical.
*' Which mean^ to ^ay," I eoniinue, "that, as a matter of
theory, the garments are all cut out and ready. But practi>
cjtlJy — " Weil I it somehow transpires that the Providence
which provides for the sparrow has that day spurned the Dor-
cas pirty.
FOLLOWEftS OF DOftCAS.
57
"Then have you nothing for us Xo do?*' says the parly
nklly.
"The CASe is happily nol so exlrcmtr/' I anf^w^r, " Alter
ill, ihcre"> always flannflUtte." And I indicate a gaudy pik.
vtlkh. at The lirst sound of ihe doorbell^ I bad liastity itircwn
OB Lbv table.
The work party does not seefn lo view the flannelette wlih
much cnChusiasniH
"II j$ sirange to think — " T pnnse and gflEe flbslrnc1ed]y
thpdugh the flanncJettc. Then 1 reaiiic ihat every one is
funding. " Oh t do »it down**; and I £ort out ihimble» and
Tcfilt o\ cotton,
"What I! BUangc ? *' says some one. Whereupon I *irk
Ufk iaco my reflections,
"Well, I wax thinking of ihc mysterieB of the Eculploe's
"My dear," taya one girl (ooihingly^ "this i» a acwirg
pifty.** Ignorinif this remark, I continue my soliloquy.
" Did you ever realize how, Jor ihousanda of years, the Greek
notitcrpicccs lay embedded in the solid marble P And it was
onlT when the hand of a Phidias was Uld upon it, that an
loimarial tarm sprang into li(e^ " Here some Dorcas inter-
mpur
"What hai Phidiaa to do with orphans' knickers?"
'' Pbtdiaa m«rely points the moral," 1 say reproachfully.
"For. u the tmmonal god lay asleep in the rough matble.
rthe orptiana' knidcers lie intact in that roll of flannclclte," 1
fc one girl in my eye. and push over a pair of scl&^or? :
^Emulate the Hindu/' [ urge, "and thus afquire merit,"
She murmurs something about the fupetfluoue human be-
ingi to whom fate has introduced her,
"Of course/' I admit, "from the utiliiafian point of view.
Phidii* pale* before Dorcas, who, as you remeflibef, was raised
to life in Joppe, because *(he made coal« for the pcor."
My frietid is apparently not carried away by the prcwcis of
tbe said Dorcai. She merely rolls out the gaudy flannelette
witb a tfaoughtiul exprc^ian.
,"Pina!" i* her only rematk.
"Pills^ oh, yei*'; I ga^c round belple^aly into apace.
"Doa any o«e know where 1 put the pint?"
Tlic work meeting »its round the table, »clcmii-eycd Aiid
^
■
iS fOLLOlVEftS OF DORVAS. [Oct,
disftppixivlng : bui Ihey say nothing. Hastily 1 feel myself all
rver and t^er prick my finger, which twinge reminds me thai
I had putpoicly stuck Ihem in my blouse.
"I was ED afraid of forgetting them/' I say pieasantEy,
Bat the party wkh difficulty conceal* its scorn. At this junc-
ture I fee] a little depressed. However, 1 extract the pins
with carCf and lay Ihem on the table- There are ihiee pins in
all, one beings ^E'nt,
"This one," I say with some Jeeling, as I examine the
third pin, " i& UTtlonunately sneering from sonic spinal com-
plaint" — possibly euTvalure- Some day, when I've lime, I'm
thinking of trying Ihe curative rJTccts of masiaEe-"'
Mcjinwhile 1 lay the crippled pin in an easy position on
Its back^ Then qIJ at once I become conicious of a growing
chdl In the social atmosphere. The Dorca* party is grimly
cilenL
"Three pins,'* says a long auflerlng Tabitha, "three pins —
among six women. And thif is cutting-out day I "
The party exchange glances, and 1 know 1 am being voted
out of Ihe mi^eting— a vote which, however silently put, is
unanimously carried. Feeling that something must be done^ I
ring the belt and aak for the matrLiii to arnd up the basket of
mending. This move temporarily relieves the tension, and
gives the work party something to do. 1 (eel I am now saved
from public reprobation- But just then a dear woman, whom
I really love, lakes from her wrist-bag a packet of needles and
lays it down on the shiny mahogany table as if she were
offering up a holocaust on a pagan altar.
*' I knew you wouldn't have any needlps/^ she fays gently.
•' You never do/'
At this Intelligence I /eel jusi a little pained, for though 1
claim no real kinship with Dorcas of happy and useful memory,
still I was under the imprcision that I invariably did my duly
by the weekly work-meeting.
*'Last time you had one," said this gentle friend of doom,
" It wa« a darning needle^with its head knocked ofT, Jfcsidcs
thai, it was rusty,"
Os\ retlectiun, I acknowledge the truth of this awful indift-
ment.
"But if you only knew — " Here 1 address the tneeting
in a body. " If you tinly knew the ihinys that arc swallowed
»9(>5]
FOLLOlVEtiS OF DOHCAS.
by tht gcnm orphan. I assure ycu ihat th« species is abso-
lately r«pAciou» in Us habits. Stew, biscuits^ pinf^Bnyihing!
li ih all Gne to the orphan/'
"What it is to be a Celt, And iciagiuitivc ! " The remark
coin«--ft from ihe midst of gomH pink flannf'lFtrc
"I'd odviie you 10 study ih? bcok of Solcmoo/' »>5 an-
other.
** May I ai^k why ^" By this tinie I am on tny dignity-
" 8:cau;c Salomon went 110 far as 10 say : ' Be net ready to
make Any manner of lie — for the custom thereof is not good>'"
"i mentioned sculpture just now/' Ibis by way of begin-
ning a conversation again, because my friend \% st)|] cutiing
out "I «rat onc« in a £cii1ptor'£ ftudio. It wa» in J'lorcnot^
Oh, yes; and, now that 1 remember IE, the sculptor was an
American, and he very kindly wanted 10 make mc into a
marble bust; only my father did not tell me until we bad
Iravaicd so far north ihul it wa^ impoasible 10 letuin/' I sigh
dreamily at the lecollection., " However," J continue in a prac-
tical tone, *'the work of the studio was fascinating.*'
"What waf it like?" asked Bomc one.
"Well, it was rather like uncovering the dead. I meat),
that when you saw it from one point of view it looked like
rthiDg at alL Then you walked round to the other side of
huge block of marhlc and ihere, at yel half covered, was
iIlc most vxquiitte human lace, while as deiith. ll was Nydia»
the blind girl of Pompeii. She lay a&leep in the protecting
niirble as if she knew it could Bhellcr her iluoughout the ages,
she seemed as if she were but av^aking from sotne uiagic ipcil.
As yet she was still imprisoned in the rough stone; but
alraady her hands had becEi freed— those Ecn^itivc hands
vhieh are given only to the blind — and she siietthtd thtm
out repiciDg. as if in search of to-day. It didn't seem to me
ai if the Amsrican sculptor had much to do with the girl, be-
yond di^fging hcf nut from her surroundings. And you know,
Tab Itha "—this 10 the sartorial artist — "that 1 have the same
feeling about those orphans' knickers. To my mind, they lie
la tbat flaQQcUlCe— only w:iilin^ to be dug out"
"Well, of all the ingratitude]" she begins.
"On the contrary/' [ hasten to say, "Ars artiuin celarti
atlcra, as the ancients say. Voo have the hand of an artist";
vbcreal the cutteroui it molllAcd.
(
6o Followers of Dorcas, [Oct ,
Just then a charming literary woman comes in. She djd
not aaticipatc such domestication as a Dorcas party . , .
and we consent to overlook the Intrusion. She confesses that
she felt depressed, and so she came. But after a while, pos-
sibly due to the clink of thimbles and the babble of tongues,
she becomes more cheerful,
" Do you know," she says in surprise, " I always thought
that social workers were gloomy to Che last degree-'* No one
takes it up, so she turns to me.
"So we are," I acquiesce, "but we don't always give way
to it-" She laughs.
" Now yesterday," I confcsF, " I was a victim to gloom —
impenetrable gloom/' The literary woman becomes instantly
sympathetic.
"Imagine," I begin, "just imagine — a smart costume from
a smart tailor — "
" Wein there's nothing gloomy about that," she protested,
"Listen!'* I say authoritatively; "it didn't fit."
''Oh,*' said every one. They all knew that feeling.
"Furthermore, I paid for it on delivery."
"Vou reckless person!" said the Dorcas party.
"As it happened," said T, "Lady was here. She saw
the tailor^s label and longed to see his creation. So I put it
on."
"'Isn't it tragic?' I asked her.
" ' It is wicked/ she said with finality, 'Send it back/
"Her suggestion struck me as sound; therefore, I packed
it up again. Then we wrote a joint note to the firm. It was
a marvel in composition.'*
" tf aven't you kept a copy?" asks the literary woman. I
shook my head.
"T was afraid of writer's cramp. Yes; I must have written
him over 3.050 words; of which three thousand were con-
signed to the waste-paper basket. The difficulty was to write
something that satisfied us both. P'or my part, I urged re-
straint as suggestive of greater power But Lady didn't
agree to it- Therefore letter after letter had to be torn up
betore we settled down to compromises.
"'Now,' said Lady , 'what is the exact position?'
"'The exact position is this: I refuse to wear the costume
and I could slay the man that made it!'
I90S-]
>IXOlV£RS OF DOHCAS.
"'Do you want him lo Uy again >* she asked,
"•l!e*v*n forbid!' I ansucred- '1 wane the money back/
*' * Vou urnit'l get ix,' shz sairi, 'but that's ft delBil.'
"According]/ we look a Ueiti sheet. We addressed the
firm tn matU- Our dlyLe wa& cold, but poUtis. We a&ked if
ihej^ hid indeed perpeitated thU co&iumt? ^' — for I o us ii sremed
ilui 'an enemy- hath done this/ In any case, vtc conTcsfcd
thai the rcsuU was impossible j and ihat our sell respect would
prevcni u« from wcjjring ii , and nndcT these clrcutn^Iaficet we
»hould contider the icturn of the cheque as a favor; ard per-
\\p^ — thU being Lady 'a luggcalon — I would conMder ihe
frAsibility oi an order at some future date."
The Dorca* pany appcati atnjsed at the recital.
*'Of courtc," I concTudc, "that laM clause was in every
3ttiM] a coiapromise. I only pjt it In for the sake of peace;
fcr my friend wanted me to say Ihat 1 mighl possibly give
ihcm th< order for ^ome oi my trousseau dresee^. But in ihia
I wa» lirm^ ' I'm not a candidate for matrimony.' I said " — and
here 1 looked Mernly virtuous-^-'^'and 1 scorn lo raise laUc
hopea— <ven in the heart of a tailor."'
A ripple TOJtc up from yard» of (IdLnnelctie.
'■Wb« did Lady say?"
"She laid that my principles were so unusually lofty that
they unnerved her"
At thiA momcnl there i& a postrndti's kuockn and u regis-
icrcd letter if brought in on a tray. Thinking it is an edito-
rial c^mmunicdtionp my material mind is inwardly glad. Then,
without any »how of indecent haste, 1 open It, Instantly I
b&ld my brcAth^ and Anally sit speechless (or joy.
"What is it?' asks every Tabitha.
"He says — " I clutch the aim of the giil betide me— "ile,
th^ i^i/pr, be|fA 10 teImiii my check and dulilulty hopei for the
f^vor of my future e«etmed orders, Jewel of his acK and call-
tQ|> L " ii my fervent cJACulatlon. "1 shall recommend that
mas'" Whereupon Ihe work meeting diegolvrs into peaU <if
Uugbter,
Th«n Ihe litcraiy woman telU us of her present hopes and
failures. She cotileaica to having made a mistake this week.
Vg>; ibe urote an anicle and sent ji lo the cvcnin|E Jiu^gei^
Taat WAS all right, lo far. The miBtakc lay in the note to the
editor To him she said it muil appear foithwick Whertupon
63 Followers of Dorcas. [Oct.,
the editor — gTcaily to his Tegrct, and incidentally to hers— was
obliged, owing to the urgency of her rrquirementf, to return it.
'* And now/' says the literary woman, " 1 find the MS- won't
lit into any other paper ! "
This confession of impetuosity slips off her soul with a ring
of pain. But though the Followers oJ Dorcas have pity for
the poor, they have none for the litterateur, and the inci^efii
is greeted with profane appreciation. The literary wcman is
interesting. Her husband, an Oxford man, is an actor play-
wright. His father was an intimate friend of Cailyle, DickenF,
and Thackeray, whose letters my friend is now colltcting.
She is about to go when she suddenly pauses and looks
unhappy.
^' Must Ij" she begins tentatively, "oh! must T see the or-
phans 7 "
^^ Why ? " I ask in surprised tones.
"You do run a Children's Home, don't you?"
By her tone she seems to have misgivings that this state-
ment may he hut the figment of her own brain.
"What if I do P " is my stolid inquiry.
A sigh of relief bursts from the literary woman. She sits
down again.
" I was so afraid — "
"No need," I answer, "for I myscH hardly know one end
of an orphan from the other end."
" Then may I ask," gasps my friend in astonJEhment^ *' what
are you doing here?"
" Generally speaking," is my admission, " I emulate Mrs.
Jellyby in her disregard for domesticity and her care for every-
thing else. For instance," I continue, "I am literary adviser
to a timid man of letters; a spiritual director to a ycung man
who ought to wear a cowl; a confidante to au army of the
unemployed; a prey to impostors; and a believer in the
brotherhood of man. Most of these, I confess, make a point
of calling upon me whenever I have to finish an article against
time."
"But what of the home duties?" she asks.
"WeUjOf course, I have the moral responsibility," I admiL
" Then I order the dinner and keep the accounts^ and occasion'
ally — very occasionally — I read the Riot Act. The hotuc-ma-
tron sees to the rest."
W5J
fLLOryffXS OF DOItCAS.
\
"Oh!" «ya Ihc lUerary woman> And. sccnewhat rfa^'ufed,
ih« ukfift her tcavc.
Mi'Htiwfiilr- (he mending of the orphans' garmenis %ovs oil
Sereral of th« busy Tabkhas arc social cvorkeii— Lidi«s oi
Cb^Ity, M Sl Vincent de Paul ordainetl- One girl ts th«
Cttholtc reprpsenutive of ihe MetrdpoTiinn AssociAtion ict He-
Irknding Young Servants. She U supposed to visit her dU'
ukt And lepoit every month !□ the Central Committee- Dul,
iUj ? when she is not in Devonshire, she is usually at Cnwca,
^4nd the younfj^ servants, jn the interrcgnuni. remain unbe-
ffjcnded. Under cover of the Dorcas mceling^ she Is placed
h the category of damp squibs.
The nex: gifl, when she h not practisirg the piano, is
miking " arehdioccsan " garments j but bhe is jii£t ofT (o Ire-
land next week^
Another wontan, who fn a former existence waft an Angli-
caa SiMer in charge of a Lar^e hospital in India, is now a
"plain Roman/' and does more good thin any one knows. It
b more of a rclaxatjon that she comes to my party; and
vhen there, is constrained lo ctTer up a sacTifice of needles.
She Is inlclleclUELl and icfrefhing.
Then there is the girl ia the I'ans hat, who Is still ab*
forbed in ^annefettc — still cutttrg out Icnickcrs- Six months
a^o *h^ succeeded to my former di&IrJct in London sZume«
white I sank into a literary groove, together with an honorary
managership. V«t; I'v* counttd those Paris bars. She has
had at ieait seven In ftix months But $he is merely pUyfng
ODt time^ Presently bhc witl take o(T the last French hat in
exchange for a white cornet. In the meanlime. she is to me
as the salt of the earth- 1 wonder, as I glance across Ihe
table, how *he will took in the garb of a Sister of Charity.
With ihc scissors poised in mtd^air. she now looks up,
"I don*t suppose the sixe matters^ one can always put m
"Don't bother about tucks," I say with serenity. For in-
deed it it « curious but rarely noted fact that most thirigs C^t
Mt orphan- It is one ot those hidden compensations that we
allow in pa^^, for the mast part, unnoticed, but one to which
I. m my official capacity, give grateful te&limony> '
The sartorial artist now apportions out garments to the
party iadiridualiy. She j^ivn me n^ithing ; I wr>rdrr \t (he
64
FOLLCiVERS OF DOXCAS.
[Oct.
has /orgonen. A^ rhf iiomtnat head ot the Dotcaa party 1
h^iiate lo court a snub, I wait a while. Nothing happens^
1 am the only idle member, I decide to risk il-
" Now, what can I do?" I ask cheerfully,
" Da yau mean aa regard* sewing ? " The quesiion Is
guarded, ajtd the Paris hal p&uKS.
" Don't you ihink/* the »y* candidly, " you*d better
talk ? "
"No"; I say wjlh convictitm, "I don't. I think ii would
be eiicou raiding a racial laiJLiig." For 1 TcKcnc iiws, »Iur upo»
my woihman^hip.
''Oh. well/' &ayf another gir! in a chariuble aside, "give
her a seam tu run up- She can't go far wrong in thai-'" And'
a gJirment i« thoughtk^ly flung across ihc table. The action
reminds me of (he profane child ai ihe zoo who thrown a
monkex-nut at the elephant, 1 couldn't do it myseif, L
haven't sulTicient nerve. Once I tried- Ii was under the trees
at Regent's Tark where the parrots were screeching o\cih«ad.
fial I failed lo hit the eiephant, I wa£ so afraid of hurting
hi^ ft^if-rcspei:!. Most people don'i realise that he has any.
And when the nnodern Dorcas threw ihe pink flannelette scttin
at me^ 1 accepted h meekly and in ^iltnci— but my gouI «enl
out to the elephant, a& to the mo&l long tufTcring ol beaAl».
However, on the principle ol lurning the other check, J
address my ncitt neighbor in a friendly bpiriGa
"What did you do on Saturday'"
" Koyal Ai:adeniy," she says.
"Anything there?" I ask.
">Jolhing- Arc y<i%\ going?"
"Not il i accept your verdict," is my answer, "'But." [
protest, "even if Leigbloa is dead and Uurne-Joncf in bis
grave, Ihey cau'c have talcen with ihein all the paint in f^ng-
tand^ The^re'^ stiil Alina Tadema who has a few tube?, and
Herkomer, and — "
"Well yes. now tbat I come lo think of h, there were
a few Alma Tademas. and a couple of poftraits — " Such w4s
the Rabby admi»«ion that the Hame of genius alill flickcretl
among us.
Then there vit another ring at the belL This time It wj.s
% viroman ariist, wb9 at sight of a Dorcas party visibly re*
coiled.
I90$>J
FOU.OWERS or DOfiCAS.
65
"Whit A revelation of energy I '' said sh*. Then suddenly
rejJiiing the requirements— " give me a needfe, I can sew/'
fhe cjaciilaicd.
•'You dear thing," I say soothingly, "you hnow you can't,
And heie. no one expects 4itiyihiii(j from an artist temperament.
I cAn ipGAk Irom cxpciiencc," is uiy bJilcr admission,
*'WcU," «he fays, "I only looked in. Ho; I won't wall
fi>r tcd— c^n't' Come and Ziave some jn my ^tijdio on Satur-
daj/' And the gold medaiiit of Parif fame flew off like n
1 wav snrry she vjos In £iich a hurry becai^^e now I had
no alternative hut lo sew. Oh \ how I was getting to hate the
gaudy »trtpaB of the plnbc flannelette, I didn't know how It was
to tie manipjiatcd and 1 didn't dare to a^k. In vain I cast
«boat in my mind, U luddcnty became impo^sfble to make
an inquiry without expojing my ignorance. It wa*H therefore,
with the Fedins* of a culpm in the dock, that I finally put out
a rocler,
"Followers of Dorcai ! " 1 begin. "What is the view of
lh« majority? Shall \ 'run and fell' it?" (I was conadous of
an unlawful pride at my knuwlEdge of technicalities.)
But the followers o( Dor^^aa were talking hard, and ignored
Uf cagual of distress- So I sigh foHornly and aink back upon
nyvclf, much as a hop^planl dnes for J;ick of a pole.
" What would you do with a seam > " I ask my next neigh-
bof.
'* Dcpondf on the sctva^c/' says the practical woman,
"Naturally it would," f acquiesce vaguely, hoping to impel
hcT to fiarthe; Information, Due the woman relapses into aiTence.
" Oa 1 " aays another, becoming conscious of my original
Inquiry. "E vhould be mcUned lo herring-bone it,"
"Thtt'a an idea/' I admit with some caution. "Why not?"
1 look at the clock surreptitiously. Tour o'clock! Then [
^»e again at the hideous flannelette, 1 don'l know how to do
any mote. Yet one must do something at a Dorcit meeting.
Had I been an orphan, I ponder regretfully, \ mi^hl bavo
smllowed it— hernug-botie and all. But, (oriunat^ly or un-
fOfCttiuiely. I am not an orphan; so that settles it, PerhapA
a day may come — here I drift aw&y into ihe vatt reafm of
ipecuUtion — perhaps a day may come, when tlanneletle may
bfr raised io the dignity of a cure. For, given time, every-
4
«4
fOLL014'£^S OF DOHCAS.
[Oct,
ihing becomes a cure, Yesterddiy it was mud, or at least a
mud bath: t'^e day before it was raw beef; \o day it is air —
&esh air; to-morrow — well, lO'inorrow it may be flannelette;
so many yards to be eaten sitting before reliTJrg to re&l.
. . . Suddenly my rcRrciions on ^cirniJlic progress and tbe
curative effects of gaudy tiannelette are rudely interrupted.
"What art you doing?" It is a wejl-moaning but indig-
nant Dorcas at my elbow,
1 start with a certain guilty apprebension.
^' Why do you ask?" 1 feel tbe situation \s a delicate one.
"Why!" she rEiteratcs. "Whyt Recause for th« laot
twenty minutes, to my knowledge, you've bern sewing that tiny
seam, and then, at regular intervals of five minutes, you have
abstracted my scissorst undone it. and sewn rt up again."
Const rf nation Jails upon the Dorcas party.
" If you don'i feel well — say so," The accusing voice
comes from under the Paris \uX.
"Ohf a« for that," 1 say deprccalingty. "1 never felt bet
ter^-ph y H c all y . "
"Then, then^what's the meaning of this?"
Tttcre seems no escape. I find 1 am hedged in by inquir-
ing feminine eyci. The followeri of Dorcas mean to get to the
bottom of this business- Accordingly, I lay down the gaudy
flannelette much as the vanquished knight in ancient days
yielded up hia sword,
*' Well ? ■■
Each Tabitha awaits an explanation,
"Don't yo^ think,'* I say tentatively, "that thtre was more
in Penelope's method than met the eye? I always believe
mysolJ that, had she known how to go on, she would never
have gone back — "
A fresh ring at the bell saves the situation. It U a be-
lated Dorca». She appears with a huge bunch of bright nas-
turtiums; flame-red. and yellow, and glowing copper; glonooe
shades that make one feel the better for seeing thetn. ^Ky,
they have power even to mitigate the horrors of a work-meet-
ing
"A tribute td genius." laughs the donor, as she oRers the
bloomi.
"Provided it Is not a tribute to seams" U my whispered
prayer; for by this time I (eel abject- Half-past lour i Tea
190S']
The Convert.
fi7
ippe*/a. And once behind th« silver teapot. I decide 1o r«-
aara there. For Aome people, indeed, it ii the only ^afe place
As 1 fncnt^oned before. 1 am afraid ^f woincn — ^ewtng wo-
men. Th<y h»vt a way of jticking their needJes into you.
vhifibt however inadvertent, is di^lfnctly unncrvrng. And
when Ihe work-meeting had dispersed, and 1 was lell alone
with my own thoughts, 1 came lo the unalterable convlciion
that hftd I lived in the days i^f St. Peter^ I should never havo
been found in Joppe, where, as we read in the Acib, many cle-
voui wonien stood and wept over the corpse of "Tabiiho,
vhtch by interpretation le called Dorcaa,"
THE CONVEKL
BV MAURiCE FIL\NCI5 £GAN.
The river's ro&e and gold — on other dayi
At AuDrtse. too. it shone; but now its glow
Settns golden -pat tcned, ns the stteaiiis thii flow
From that Great Heart net in Ihe Godhead'^ rays;
There Is nn change in all the daily ways
or thia. his Jife ; the friends that come and go
Are nearer, yet apart ; Ibey canuot know
The rapture in hit aoul where new peace stays.
He \% the «ime to hurryine: men that pass
Id hajitc (0 dally work : they eannoi aec
TIrt splendid bloom upon a hirren rod \
They cannot know— he goos Ironi his first Mass —
The fullne** ^{ hia liiddtn ec&tafcy —
He Iwar^, like SiiueoD. heart to heartj his God.
I
1 ;
* iron
nv J, c. MtysM^tXAS.
Ctiiff/fti Dti-tJti^ii 4/Cpinvtar ftp^rfi. ffwfnan t/Mamnfintuni.
R chanced to mecl as Unvclcrs. al Rrescia, in the
y»riJcn of a Sigitor Malanca, The putiy in-
cluded an Englishman, Mr. Frost, a tcaclier of
languages aI Oxford, Signor GfllTarclti, our host
antl my^Kli. Signor Gvflureili brgan to com-
pare whit he called Iialy'» backward condilicEis uiih the mar-
vcTou* ifiditblTial and commercU] pro^rcfi^ of England and the
United Scales, His entire talk was an abusive tirade ngainst
Italy. His Btatemcnls were surprising. Some oi ihcm be-
trayed woful ignorance, both of England's hiMory and of ihe
condrtions m hts own country^
In the course of the converEalion, 1 was called upon to ex-
press my opinion. 1 adopted a form of questioning, and asked
SignoT GatTareLli how much coal there was in Italy. J urged
hint to compare the tonnage of production, when he found
[t, with the production in Great Britain; the coaJ and iron re-
sciurcefi of both countries; and the co6t of production, the st-U
mg prices^ etc., in the big cities of both lands.
Signor GafTareUi was inclined at first to consider [he coal
^id iron problem as iirclcv^nt to so importani a question as a
on's progresa. He came back, however, a day or two later
rom « visit to the government works in Brescia, and there he
liAd learnt mifch concertLin^ (he retntLons of coal and com-
mercial prosperity; thai lli7y. for txampte. was compelEed to
buy all iu coal in England and Wales ai from 35 to 4? shil-
liri^q a ton, coat thftt coht Htiti^h manufacture is from 1$. lo ^o
shillings a Ion. I had a similar rxperitnce in Tiiiladelphia a
year or two later, when the Leading indusiHal and commercial
men of the world were gathered in that city to devise mea^-
jfc* lor improving the Industrial and commercial relniiona of
Hi d^ffjr^n: ou^trics 0.i3 of the aMcv: writers on economic
subjects there expressed an e-pinion aimiUr to thai of Signor
Ga^are 111, namely, that the LaiinK were a decadent race and thai
<90i.]
THE New Industrial Italy.
59
I
IWly. induslrialJy and commercially, was going to ruin.. Tte
ignorance cf the profc&ftor of languages was mnucritl and «x*
cu»abl«; that of the economist was uii|?ardoiiabJe.
Consul' General Guenlhcr, fofincrly a member of CodereA^,
now representing the Uniled States at Frankfort on Main, ^ayf,
in a recent report, ihat "The German prolessor, Freeh, of
Brcslau, stated that the inciufeCiial tuprtm^cy of a ccuntiy de*
pcnded largely upon a suffidcrtt supply of coal i and mduslrul
dominion residc<l with ihat courlty which possesses bofh era!
intl iron jn full supply/' The professor further holdi. as an
axiotn. Ehat "Iron hat to travel to coal'* — this fact is well
worth recording and wi3t be cf value in conEideiirg ihe ccndi>
tion of Spain^ — " constqucnily ihe Jaiter Ccoal) is the more itn-
portani materia] for an Industrial country." As the United
Staler has, by far, greater deposits of both cod and iron, and
within easier access, than England or Germany, our suprem-
acy if a man u f act u ring naticn is will assured. ''Great Bri-
tain," the consul ccmtinues, ''has already put an export duty
on cod/'
Profesfor Freeh'« words are weighted with interest and M'ith
witdota. In the face of thtm, according to Consul General
Gucniher, the Frankfort AVwj. of February 5. 1905. Has the
following slEnineanc but dangerously dtceptive nmaikf. Afttr
pointing out the production of iron ore and coal in ;hc United
State*, Great Rrttaii), and Gefmany, ihe report closes with these
words: '* The Germanic peoples produce four fifths of all iKe
iron and fttecL of the world; ihe Latin peoples only from %
to 9 per cent' Thi^ di^ennef iftmi to have ifs fiiuse mnte ih
lAf eAantfUr */ rAf inkabilanfs than in tkt cHraeur pf th4
<anKtritt'^ (Uallcs mine.) ^'Spain especially could, by greater
*Bcr^y, b« mado one of the luo&t important iron producing
coufiiriei; the Latin countries also pos<e53 a vast amount if
vaier power that might be utilised for electrical puipose?."
We bave aid thai these litatement^ were deceptive- The lads
an, thai Italy ha^ not much coal, and, moreover, has but little
iron; Spain has some iron, and little ccal ; but, FoUowing the
indnhlrial axiom of Professor rrtch, they go to England or
Wal« for coal.
In hU InJusfry in Ettgiamd Gtbbini says: "Knglishmen
Btem to have had hardly any idea nf ihe va«t weallh of coal
and iron that has placed them in the fcrefrcnt of Eurcpe ai a
maaufaciaiirg nation/' ]le adds: "But early \n the tcvcn-
i
The New Industxhal Italy.
iCQnth ctntury, the £on of Lord Dudley brgan to make u^e of
•ea- and pil-coal Jot smelting iron- - - - Dudley sold his
c&ftC iron ai %ii a ton* and made a good profit out of lU Tie
produced actually seven tons a week. Before the cloGe of the
century it wfl£ calculated that jSg,cco Ion£ of ore uere pro-
duced m Kngland yearly: and in the cighfeenth century (i7'9)
iron cime third in the l^at of English [Ban u fact u res ; and the
trade i;ave coiploymenl to 200,000 people."
En£Und's deposits cf iron and coal, particularly coal, put
it in her power to take the lead In industries and trade, In-
beriting much from Spain and the Netherlands, or.ce a depeiid-
eney of the Spanish crown, beginning with 1300, she led the
comtnercial world for a hundred years^ The dark dayt of
Charles V, and Philip II. drcve a great many tti the best
weaver* and workers of Flanders to England. They look with
thetn their tendencies to develop inherited skit! and fandness
for machinery. Backed by ihc^e the Ergland oJ Elizabeth Pnd
of UttT yettrs grew commercially very prosperous.
If the po6iUon of our United States is to-day in advance
of all others, it is because we have the cheapest coal, iron, and
limestone deposits on earth. In the Messaba, Gogebic, and
Vermilion mines we have iron that can be dug out by means
of steam shovels, loaded into steel cars, carried, almost, in some
cases, by gravitation to Two Harbors and Duluib. on L^ke
Superior, or to Escanaba, on Lake Michigan, loaded into lo,-
000 ton flteel steamers, the loading briDg done in a few hcurs,
where formerly it took weeks to fill a z.cxai ton ship, and then
carried by the cheapest ton mileage in the world to Buffalo,
Clevetandt Toledo, Cincinnati, Pittsburg. Chicago, and Milwau-
kee, whefc Lt is poured aulDmatically into futnacpE. 1 his mad^
it possible for us I0 produce more steel and iron in 1904 than
England and Germany together, whereas fifteen years *igo
each 'A these nations turned out more than this country.
This one material, coal, has been the main cause of a com*
plete revolution in our national induetry. )t U but a few gene-
rations since, by means of coal, a new motive power, stearn, wa^
evoked, and nativvf-wrought iron was first frxtensively applied
to minlrigi to machinery, and to locomotion. Now every civi-
lued country is scored with railroads, cities are lighted with
gas; coal and iron have changed, aUo. the character of our
ships and our mariners. Before coa! was used to generate
•■"*"*. the ailcs of our manufacturing towns were determined
I9O50
The New jxdvsthsal Italy.
7J
dticfly by ihe convenience of mtll streams, and ihe woods were
tht seats ni smelting The foresl fires are now extinBmshed ;
the making: of iion h9,% traveled to the coal^lieldf, whkh ha,ve
become the most densely peiipJcd parts of the country, fln<l
the? scenes of th« busirsE iii<Iustry.
It is Oinly ignorance that would attribute Italy's industrial
decline to the Church. It would be just at sensible to say
thai our sitccQs over Kngland is due to the fact that wc have
foof or five hundred, possibly a thousand sect»> whereas litig*
Und has aa established church. Adams, in hit commercial ge-
ography, sayd: "One reasan why the Unrted Stales can sell
its iron and steel products abroad is because coa! m^6 in mak-
ing iron and steel is so cheaply mined aikd transported- " In
llie lit of coat-producing coctnlriest given in the same volume,
Italy doc* not appear, a.1ihoijgh fourteen countrict are named.
It is curlout that any one at all Umillar with economic facts
should be guilty of ao dgregioLii; a blunder as the one con-
tained in reports made by inlclligent men, and even learned
economists, about Italy's decline and the decadence of the Lat-
ins. Wc<|uotc the foHowing significant statements, showing the
importance of coal in industrial and commercial Hfe» from sd-
rance «beeisof the report ol the United States Bureau of Sta-
titttc«:
"The world's coal production in igoj reached Ihe enormous
total of S64 million long ton?, of which the United St^es sup-
plied more than any other country.
"The United States, the United Kingdom, and Germany
fuppHed four-fifths of the world's coal product, Ihe 5hare con-
tributed by these countries being. United Staled, 37 per cent;
United KEngdom. 37 per cent; and Germany. iMfj per cenL
The>e countfies also lead in the production of domestic maru
factures* and, In like ranle. In the exportation of domestk
products/'
Among the world's ereat ccal producers, therefore, neither
Italy nor Sp^in hatt a t>Iacc- These facts will show quite fully
the importance of coal and iron in the industrial life of any
nation.
But even with ^uch a serious handicap as the absence of
coal, Italy Is faAt taking a leading place in (fade and manufae*
tnrtS- Strong forces arc helping her to regain her lost indus-
trial and commercial prcsiige, and the jinaucc£ of the nation
have not been aa stabJc for many years aa they ate xo-^ft.*;.
72
The Sew iMDusTHiAt Jtaly,
[Oct,
Kmigrants arc returninn and bringing %o the home country
much uiore money than ever belore, Manj- of ihc pe»8n1»
who journe)'' to foreign countries, patticularly to South Atncii-
ci, remajn thure no longer ihan is nece&iaTy for barvr^tfrg Xhn
crops, Thry rtiurri in tiini- for ih? Italian harvest Ina^nuch
as Ctic seasonal permu this, (he Italian peasant ts certain to
have coniinucd work antl high wagesn By this means much
wealth is c:om!ng into the banks of ihc kingdom and helping
to buUd u|j Iiahan inttuslrlca^ ForirJeTly great nurabcrs of the
peasants <migrat<d from rjedmont, Tuscany, «ad Lombardy.
V«ry few go out from Ihesc provinces now; and Ihc bulk of
Italian emigrants '\% from Ccntml unA Saiiihern flaly.
Ag^ain. many of the emigrant peasants who remain in for-
eign Und« ^seMl their savings home to the national bitnkK lo
be invested in land — a vineyard or an olive- orchard.
A roEhng stone gathers no moaa ; but it may acquire tnucb
polish- The emigrant Italians teturn ficm North and South
America much belter men rhan they were when they left the
home country Traveling trains and make^ Ihcsi^ men sensible
of the situation undct which their country labors. Various esiU
males have been made as |o the average amouut Sent or
brought back by each emigrant. The highest estimate H $IS0
per capita, yearly. This multiplied by >oo,ooo. the nirmber go-
ing out and in. would make $;5,ooo,OQOh If we reduce thi*
^f 33'^ P^^ ^c^i ^^ ^^^^^ hBt.y<: $jo,ooo.ooo as a surplus fuad
flowing into Italy from the outsli^e
The cise with which an Italian peasant may live on a rety
^mall income i& widely known ~ and thus, by thrrtt and cccu-
omy, Italy is regaining a great d^al ol what wss thought to
be lo^t beyond redemption Another asEec of the newer Italy,
and what will be perhaps the mosL important factor in her in*
duatrial regeneration, is found in her rivers. The water power
of the Alps and Apennines is being used 10 generate ^leat
mill pawer
Ac:ci^TdinK to the very best records availabtf^ Italy's hone
power from electricity, generated by water, was about 20,000 in
iSqo; in IQO; it amounted to more than 20O.CQO aad is gaining
so fait that one is loth to guess at the increase. All over \\.\e
peniniular electric power is employed. In iSfjo only one car-
line, the Florence Fiesole, was woikcd by electricity; 10-day
there are from ^00 10 500 mifea of eicctiic railway. In ^£90
i
I
i
I9J*]
THE^ New IXDVSTRrAL ITALY.
n
ihi>Lrl 400 lowns used clectHcky for Hghiing. to-day the num-
ber is 6C0-
Tuscanyn Pifdmoni, and Lombardy, because of ihe Alps and
Apenninfi are sure of 3 place in the world's inaTkeis. Mimi-
» and Milan* Brescia and Bergamo* Flarence and Pisa, are
pDlItng fbrlh clTorr^ to day such as ace sure to result in as
rtmarlcable a success in Italy ^% similiar c^ons mtet with
elK«bcr«^ Coal may long conltnue to be a valtjab!e asEcT lo
4n indusiiial lUtc: but the day in which it wa£ indispeaia-
He 10 thole oivning water power hag departed, ElectrtcUy
faas op«ticd another era, Be&ide ccal. wind and water are the
worlds grcAt worleerf
The factors in thj« sudden an^i phenomena.! suceeaa, by
vhJch everybody who contrasts the Italy of to day with the
llaly of yffMerdny is startlrd, are easy money, water power for
the generation of electricity, ihrif:. industry, and well-directed
ioduMfjal education- The story of Gcnnacy's progress since
the opening of her imperial patent otBce, in \^i^, is not more
remarkable than that of lta.Iy durtng the past decade- Fro-
icciion may have ministered to progreA» aiid protpcrily, it is
true; but so, loo^ has the inventive genius of the people.
To any one familtai with the facts in Italy's past, wSrh the
Otte face that she had no coal, the present ptogresa and pros-
perity arc promises that reasonably give ue much hope> It
looks as if the pcnmsukr kingdom mast assume a very formid-
able position among the commercial and industrial stares thai
are soon to seek a settlement of their relative rights in the
arenai of iho worlds marken- The pari CO be played by the
streams of emigration, of money, and of water, from the Alps
and Apenmnes. mii£t not be ignored-
In treatLng of the induslrial condition and prosperity or
poreny of Italy, It Lft welL to be comprehensive and fair, and
not with narrow prejudice lu confound causey and to mi&statc
conditions. With regard to the subject at hand, veritable
poison il oftfQtimes poured into innoccrit and untuBpccuni;
ears by men who certainly ought to be belter informed.
It II ocrtftin that ItAly iH deitincd for a ^reat future. She
has already passed the point of being able to meet the de-
mands of the home markets. In the new era, the one upon
vr^ieh the worM entered wtien electricity was discovered, llj^ly
is to hare a renaissance, a rebirth.
i
DAKN'Y'5 I-RmAY.
iVOfLAEltT 7tlRNBft.
IRS- riAV'IS is CT^mfoTtably ofT. She tells mt
bxntW tb«t DO aat «ver had a beller or a more
hard-workiiig huAb&nd than ehe; and I bdlcve
her. for I neTcr mw the sajtl hu'band hanging
about hi< home and never heard a word aboul
his betnif out of woik
All the other mhabJtanis of the house and street have
their p<fio4josl fttuch> of slackness; Davis never; he must
b4v< A fVftl^v for work. His wife sings his praises in her
own calmly lymphatic way; but she carefully refrains from
tmitttifiK his cKi^mptc. I h^ve been in an<f out of her two
rA^nii ai all hours of the day. from early morning until laie
evcuLftif. but I have never seen her doing anything more
Ubonous than iiur« the youngest chiM (number thirteen, by
the vay), or move Ihe kettle when It boils over^
Her rooms, her children, and her person all bear witne^
to Ihb calmncsi of dispoMtion. A little energy would make
them ^ much deaner and pleasanter; but perhaps she would
Itot thcvk be to ttout. so smiling, and io opcimislic- I fed a
^tt dtlk*cy »bout nu^K'^&iiri; any change. It is so cheery
lit nrid tomt one who never seems to want anything, that I
Mh^ Venttirr to hint how much the roomfi and their occupants
it»*il in iHfl matter of soap and watrr. Su I weakly hope that
t>tvU d(i*t »*>t mind; and 1 ncvei do more than murmur that
haliy'l face would be prettier if it were cleaner, Frivaiely, 1
Ihlfth At llie lamc time thai I can sfe enough of it. caked as
II 1i wllh illfl ; for the poor child has the wi£cncd elderly
Ur». the hl|[h narrow head, and the round staring eyes that
«H« Llivntunlarlty uonnccte with the lowrsii type oi criminaL I
Ihiil 1 Am not wicked when I hope he won't live long enough
III lif^ak her heart; lor the Iovch him and $ec& no fault in
hiM.
Mm nav)>. bnldoi bclniE an admiring wife, is an afTeciion-
111 iiuilhi'. 'iiil h» broutjhi up her nmncroufi family on the
I905-]
DAXNY'S FfliDAY.
?5
most a{>[>rovcd lines of unlimiUcL iti<Iulgriicc, tempered by
blows and ftbuic only when absclutcly necesfiry.
The last time I went to stc her 1 Inquired for Danny
(Aged cine) who, having nm a rusty nail into one miserable
IHtle knee, w&s ButTenug m hospital from iU cfTccts.
■■ He'f gettin' on finen thank ye, lady,'* hi» mother rc-
poried. "TheyVe all as fond of "im in the 'orapitfti ; 'e't a
^0(1 boy it Danny, and that particular about 'is religion. ^5
yer know, lady. He wouldn't eai meat on a Friday was it
e*<r so; '«» fathcr'd 'avc somethin* to say to any of 'is chil-
dren as would, and mc too ; and they knows it- We've
brought *eni up to It/'
And then she grinned cnmforlably, and gave me the out-
tines of the following siory.
Poor Utile Danny, badly fed and ill-noufi*h<d apd &uff<rirg
tite icore from hi» accident because h!% blood was half water,
h^ been ordered good food by the doctor; and his dinner of
fceeffttenk, greens, and potatoes on the frst day of his arrival
10 hoipital muse have been paiiJcnlarly icinplirg. But It was
Friday ^nd Danny had not fnrgniitn it; and, al) ignorant of
any merciful provision by which Mother Church dispenses her
Isvalid ctiSldr*!) from such mles and regulations^ and mindful
only of the precept, Danny put a^ide the meat on hi^ plate
and dtned on greena and potatoM, in sjiitc of the kindly nurse's
protestations and command^v In the course of the following
veek he atruck up a friendship with a young man occupying
tllB next bed» and by the time Friday came round again Ihey
«cn on term* of intimacy,
"WbAtyer leavin' yer meat for, Danny ? '* asked his neigh-
bor, when the same performance was gone through, *' Why
doo't y«f eat it up ? Ar'n't yer "ungTy f "
•*Fi3day," »aid Danny, with his mouth very full of hot
potatOL
■•What's Fr{d*y?" asked the young man. "Are ycf a
Jew?" with »ome vague notion, apparently, that it waa only
Jews who pjtid attention to times and seasons.
"A Jew! "■ cried Danny, so indignant that he nearly choktd,
""Coiirae I ain't. A Jeti'f No; I'm a Cawth'Iick, that"* wot
"Obi" nid the young man blankly. "Won't they lot yer
cat meat on a Friday ? Wot a go ! "
i
7fi
DAN.'iV'S FUtDAV.
[OCI,
"Let yer?" said Danry with conviction. '' Tain't lettin'
or not lettin'n If ycr eau m«at on a Friday yer'll go to 'ti\\
and so I tdls yer straight, Nfi. 18," with a ^trrn «ye on his
ncighbor'ft plat*:, which was nearly cinply.
*'But I ain'l a Cawth'Iick,'^ proteeUd No. iS, " Tain't the
aamc (or me, o" course,"
' Danny considered this.
" Wot's right for me'a right for you," was his condusior,
"must be; we ain't made dilf'runt-*'
" Dunno bout that," returned No. 18, "but 1 never 'eaid
tiothia' aboui not eaiifi' meat on a Friday; so it can't be for
DIE, *cos 1 don't know it, sec?"
"Yer knows it now," said Danny, "Ain't I just told yer?
And 1 did 'ear of a m»n," he continued fffleciiv*ly, "aa cat
a pound and a quarter o' steak in one mouthful on a Fiiday,
and he was choked; rw^ serve im iJEhl."
" Must *a been olT his chump,'* No, jS opined. " Any fool'd
know a» 'e couldn't do ihaL It's a v^rn anyway; and I don't
believe il,"
"It's as true as true," cried Danny. ''Mr. Green, ai lives
next door to u9, told Tommy and Tommy told me; and 'e
knew the man, Mr. Gret*n did. And yer'd best look out for
yersrif. Ko. iS, now yer knows."
But No. r3 was only amused by Danny's earnestness and
conviction; and held fast to his own opinicn Ihat ihc matter
did not concern him They discusstd the questicn oittn dur-
ing the following day»; and Danny tried his utmost to extract
a promise of conformity to his own stern tuJe frcm Ihis >cung
man who was so kind and so com pan ion able.
When the third Friday came round, Danny, vatchicg to
see what his fEicnd would do, could hardly eai his own vegc-
tsblw. And No. iS, feeling Danny's eager gate upon him,
turned himself round in hia bed ao aa to interpose his bcdy
between his plale and Danny's eye^n
"Yer eaiin" :l, I know yer arc!" he exclaimed vexedly,
"And I told yer, No. 18."
"No, I ain'i": said No. iS soothingly^ "I'm only eating
what you arc *'
■'Ve're a liar," obsfrved Danny, with tears in his eyes but
no anger in his voice- \lc was too grieved to feci angry; his
remark was only (he itrotige^t foim of coniradiciicn he knew.
J
DAUMY'S pRtDAY^
"Vt'tt * rum lUlie btggar," rcmaikcd No. rJ^, lomlnj
bwk again, bui Mill hiding his rmpty j>lai«, "Wot's it malter
10 fou U I do cAl meat ^nd ^ci daniiiciJ?" Theie w^ gejiu-
iat surpriec in his tone-
But it wa« qiiiic beycnrf Danny's powtr atirf Uinnv"* vo-
«>aUry to «KpUi»; bo ihc iiiile chap only brushed Ihe itare
Mt of bU eyes wiih the hack of his hanii and laid: ''Yer a
blooiEtlo' WMy thM'l wi>t yna Ate." in impAlicncc that h[<i fririit^
wdd not understand without b«ing told, Ui% own counsel of
ptrCe^lion seemed such a simple iWip^ to him, but how could
bl be content if his friend were not s&fe>
The battle continued throughout the remainder of No, iS's
lUy in the wardj and the young nran conlinued to eat bis
Fnd«y dinner under dlfBcultiFs and the bedclothes^ hu\ there
CA£e a day when he left cured; and he and Danny pasted
with few worda and real regret.
Oa the lir»t visiting day after this, while Mr?. Davis herself
«IJ Sitttint; beside her ^malt son, a tall youn^ man came into
like ward earrying a large brcwn paper parcel,
" Hnllo." oned Danny, "it 'ere ain't Iso. jH come back 1
Wofj -e a*ifoin* of» 1 wonder?"
At thai moment he was engaged in £atjsf}ing the Ward
,Sift|rr that bis parceZ contained no contraband in the vmy of
iMnpe plums or chalk swceimeats. This done he came up to
Dumy.
"Wol checT, Danny?" said he. "Not up yet? You're a-
vcariog ^"^ ^^'*^ ^<^ ^^^ ^^ error 'Ow's Friday a comin'
Dinny grinned and nodded delightedly,
^Thj» 'efe'* my mother."' he said, In Danny's circles it is
the wocnen who are presented, half apologetic ally, to the notice
of ihe supcijor sex, and, »t it happened, Mr&. Davis had not
before been able to visit Danny while hr had been in hospital.
So. tS was quite polite; he nodded a^ably and said:
"Good day, murn/' Tlicn be planted his parcel on the bed.
"This 'eie's for you, Danny; thought yet'd like sommat to
look at, now yer afn't got mo. We was reg'tar palis. Danny
aod (De,'" he explaLned to Mr». Davis. " K'a ■ queer kld^ is
Danny; couldn't a-bear me to eat no meat on a Friday. la
thai yer way o' thinkinir. too. mum ? "
Asd then he told Mci. Davis the sloty. Danny was too
i
DAMNV'S FftiDAY.
^^cited lo listen much. He had never had a parcel before in
his life; and iliia one contained a Noah's Ark (which No. iS
cxpUined was "retigt^uB" and therefore appropriate), a two-
blaJcd knife, a loy pUtol with a box of caps* and a pac^el of
chocolate* tvhich No. i S's experience o1 Ward Sisters had taught
him wa^ likely lo pass truster.
D^nny held tip one thing after another for his mother's ad-
miring iuspei^tion ; and finally lay back with a Long sigh of su-
prdcn: conicnt to regard his trcasnre with shining eyes,
■'1 «]ls ic real good-natured of yer, mister/' $aid his
mother ■* Siy thank yer, Danny."
"'E don't want to thank me, Danny don't," interposed No,
iS hastily. **'lni and tne's j^als. 'E's a brick, ain't yer,
D^nny boy ? Stands by a pal, 'e docs, and gives 'ini ihe best
'e'» goL Same "ere,"
"And ihe nurvea they all sce the sante, they never seen
luch a good boy," was Mrs. Davis' triumphant summing up-
"No, iS mu^t be a good sort, too/' ^aid t.
"V«i"; u»rted Mrs. Davis; "so grateful like, I dts&^y
U^nny dono 'im good; but they ain't all got the sense to
knmv it."
" Uinny doesn't hide his colors/' I observed.
"'U (alhor'd 'ave •omethin' to say, if 'e did," relumed Mrs.
l)4vi«t " a^<l n^c too."
I did nut doubt the truth of the last remark.
■' I with tvvry boy had such a good home/* I »id with
ntttch Vinccrlty, and left Mrs. Davis beaming.
k.
THE SOWER.
PV KATdERlSE DRI^OY.
" firktiif a i^vir ^Ml /prf/i te inn."
Scarce bp« tbc Au£c! of tb« Dawn LinfucJ'd
Hh wmgfi, auii raU'd aloft hia torch of Hgbtp
When awilt tlte Sowe; hutcns lo hh toil,
GladsoiTiF and Ixopcfwl, in slron^ niRnhood'5 mighl.
6aal] eamcst af a whole mOiM's □utriiiLeiil —
That Aceil he bcj^ni, aad scatters everywhtie I
And men arc steepiu^ qh, and few will Hae
To case his loadf lor ever 4/j the tare!
Bleak blows the wind ami nigged are the waya ;
The paths h« ticada are chok'd by many a tLora.
Bmi loiw»rd ihe atinaet sky his fa^e Ja sel —
Ut pauses not* though meu and raveaa warop
What fees be, ihit be faints not in dismay,
la ihia broad feld where laboiers are so few f
Lot ia tbe valley there» a blade springs up,
And diata&E hilEa arc blossoroiiig white to Hen' !
Ufe'a day h bfici to every ^n of man,
Aod fcarcely may Oioe Uand both aow aad reap:
Niffbt'a iJiroud cDwups the wodd and the wqiM'il work,
Wbeo, spent at last, the Sower smks jn sleep,
Bat tn those Coxirts abo^'cr, ivbcre sun ncjr moon
Knr dnwu bath pEace — Ibere, on bis eyes oppres^'d^
FiOHi Ucht of God'a own smile, into his dreams
Bi««1;a Lb< iall glory of that Vision Bless'd I
J
^tREFORE CROMWHLl. CAME TO IRKLAKD.
!HE latest volume ai Stale Papers reJating \ti Ire-
land which has been issued by the English Ro^Ia
Comtni&sion *' — so styled because its ex officio
President ts the ju<]icia] funciLonaiy known ft£
the Master of the Rolls — conuma many docu
mcnts citing much light on the Elate of religicn iti thai coun-
try, in the earlier years of ihe reign of Charles 1, On the
15th of February. 1624^ the Secrclary of Slate wrote to the
IrUh Lord Deputy, by direction of the King, who was already
bj^innln^ EQ realiie that tht turbulence of hia English Puritan
subjects made it d«irable to secure the fricndfhip of the peo-
ple of Catholic Ireland, \n Ihia missive it was pointed out
thai. 50 lar as P<tpists were concerned, it was "his Majesty's
gracious pleasure ro suspend ih<! ejcecution of the penal laws
agiin^C thsm for the use of their consciences !n private houses,
or for not coming to church," It was, hoivever, deemed need-
ful to make plain that the measure of royal toleration was lim-
ited and, accordingly, it was intimated that the Lord Deputy
Tnu?t " deprefiB and relorm " anything in the nature of "inEO-
lencie* or tumultuous and inordinate asgembliea, or innovation
by erecting cf religious houses, holding of public or private
conventions which may he dangerous to the State, scandalous,
or conduce to novelty and alteration " The impression most
likely to be created in the mind^ of those who study the con
tents of the voluine now under notice, will be one of wonder
that, despite (he persecutions cA Henry Vlll., EliEabeth, and
James L — notwithstanding the btlcf respite accorded during
the reign oE (^ueen Mary — <the unfortunate Catholics of Ireland
retained so much in the nature of ecclesiastical arid edticational
organiralion as it is made clear they did.
Despite the evident desire of King Charles to conciliate his
Irish Catholic subjects, the utmost efforts of the dominant Eng-
im]
Before Chomw^ell Came to irelasd.
Si
liih ?roteJlAftt garrison were being directed to securing A re-
turn I o the paths of pcrscculion. Th«tcfur< it wis thai, some-
lintt early In iSzg, a Memorandum was laid bdore the Trivy
LuuDcil to the effect that " tbc mmibcr of tituJary Popish piC-
litu, pr:e«u, and Je^ulis increases daily by iheir retonmf
ittiEher from bi;yt>nd seas." Nol: onlv (iid Ibcfii; brave initsion-
«iu come, but it was complained that they were " picking the
pvT»es i>f hia niajesty's subjects by indulgences, flbsoluttonc,
ARtJ p,irdons from Rome*" Worge stiU, " che&e men force Lh«
jj^ple Ed pay tithe, etc , to them as regularly a^ Ehry pay It
t» the miriiMrrs qT the efilabtlshcd churchn*' To lender tribute
to the Frotcstdni parson was regarded a^ quite Jitting, but to
comrilmte to lb? support o( th<^ Cattiolic priest ur bi^hvip wa»
««ncthing «<iuivale>:t to high trea&om The fearless Papists,
hcHei/cr, were graduAlly making headw^iy in iheir <fToM£ to
r<i[are the ancient ccclesiaslical organitstinn of their country.
It, therefore, occurred to one zealouf defender o( the "new
MJfioT)" to Wfjt« a letter to the ICing informing him that
'*ihe Papists in Ireland have lak«n to themselvrs so much
bt)]dncKs, under color and pretence of your Majesty's aniclrs
*«ni ov«r by their agents into that kingdom, that they have
newly erected Mjndry idoUtrous hou:^c!4 within ihc ciiy of Dub-
lin and accommodated tKern with postern doors through the
walls of the said city; so that at all times ihey may let into
and out ol the said city what number of ptrsoiLfi ihey shall
ihinlc ni." In ord^r to give some appearance of truth to the
last obviously absurd statement, it was paiheiically observed
that "Ihiji is very dangerousT" That the Catholics ol Dublin^
•s well as of oiher portions of tlie country, relying on the
Kind's protection, were opening n«w places of worship is quite
certain, but that they were mad enough to commence digging
hokiS in the city Tnmpnrtn iff scarcely likely. The auihorJtUs
in Dublin Caitle would have promptly put a stop to any such
performance and it if impossible to assert that they would not
haTC been quita within their right in doing so.
Aft usual, the unfortunate King was wobbling. He was,
with reason, t<rribly afraid of arousing the suspiL-ions of his
Enftlsh Troiesiant subjects- Act^ardingly, instructions were de-
^tched to the Irish Lords Justices warning them to have
a care "that God be duly honored and served in that our
ktQgdoo), twice tstjy day without fall as in the churches of
8a Before Cromwell Came to Ireland. [Oct.,
England/ and every church to have the Bible and Book of
Common PraycT as in England." Moreover, the Lords Jus-
tices wete enjoined to be '* cireful to suppress the Pope's juris-
diction in Ireland," and to see that '* all Popish conventicles
and visitations be banished," Still further, they were to see
** that our subjects be cased of any charge paid to any titu-
lary archbishop, bishop, abbot, prior, vicar general, Jesuits, fri-
ars, or any of that Popish rabble whatsoever." These instruc-
tions were sufEiciently explicit, but they appear to have had
small effect in warping the will of the people, who stubbornly
refused to be proselytized.
Tne activity of the Ascendancy or Protestant party, how-
ever, bore some degree of fruit in influencing officials to the
prejudice of the Catholic community. As a consequence, it
became necessary lor the representatives of the latter to ad-
dress a Remonstrance to the King, in 1630, to the following
effect :
Notwithstanding the King's order countermanding the
proclamation for banishing the priests. Jesuits, and other
clergy from Ireland, for which the Calliolics were thankful,
yet they are still persecuted in the following ways:
1. The Judges of Assize this last circuit had instructions
from the I*ord Deputy to present t all Catholics for not go-
ing to church.
2. Jurors were bound over to the Council table or Star
Chamber, and some fined up to ^20, for not presenting
recusants in this way-
3. The oath of supremacy t was applied to all the Catho-
lic magistrates, and such as refused to take it were de-
posed throughout the kingdom.
4. There was direction to suppress Catholic schoolnias-
teis, and Protestants to be appointed to breed the children
of Catholics in the Protestant religion.
5. The Catholic wards § are constrained to be educated
Protestants,
6. Process is awarded upon excommunication against
Catholics, many of which are now pronounced. U
■ Tlii^ oM Cnlholii: ciiilom, of CDunc, soon coated Vt he ob^rved in '^ Ihc churehrs ol
EncliiTid."
] TIknit iir. le ^rfnlfiFi or prosFcul« llicm tor nol altvadtng [he ProlesUDi tfU^dus kctvick,
]n?M in Uli' nncjenl CarhoLic clmrdii-^
t 'I liF \t\\ in i|ijraitun denied Llie oiiliiorily of "d'C Pope ^4 ibe Vicar ol Chrut, and aflirrnHl
i1i.ir Hie i'mtr'^rnni l^ing of Eu^^t.ind wQ!^ liic nj-hifuE Hcdd of iht Churcb,
^ i.Ly.il inf,mti, nlEhin Hie gu.irdiflnship ol ilie Conn ol CHanceryr
II The " exi^miTiunLcarLana " cclcrrcd Eo. pEunciunccd in pTomi&nE cburchet* wried viib
ihcm liii: JnllicLiDn of secular disAbilitiesand pen^liliea, ^ i . .,,: .:, .
19O>0
BEFOUE CrQMWEU. CaMK to IHEtANIf,
%l
These eviU the King was prayed to bring to sn cn^, but
bad a» tliingE then were, Ihcy became wi>r&t when Lord Went-
vorih wfti appointed Lord Deputy.* One of the many com*
oianicattons whiiih were addressed to the Viceroy sftcr his
coming Into Ireland, urging bim (o pur&ue a re]vnllc&« wsHaie
ftgainst ihe Catholics of the kingdom, was written by a SJr
Vincent Gocking$, who sought to bring bonic to bis mind
rc^ijatLon of the truth that the descendants of the old tCng-
liih Catholic conquerors and settlers within iu shores, were
tvery whil a» devoted tc maintenance of the Catholic religion
» wflr« the ualivr Irish amonj^^t whom ihey lived and wlih
whom they hftd largely intermarried, despite van<JUb statutes
inlvnd^d to prevent a miiiglii^g of b!ood and race- Gockinga
vfote, ai the contents oJ his letter shows, ahotLt the time when
the Catholic members of P^iliamcni had yielded to Wcni-
vjrth's dcmamSs, and voted the Kirg scvcraJ gears' subsidies
in advance, thus rendering hi& Majesty iiLdtpendent for a pro-
tonged period of his Irish House of Commons The English
Comtnoni displayed a. much shrewder appreciation of the $hifty
ChartftCler of thrir unlurtunate moiiarL.hr Gockingft told the
Lii>rd Deputy that he rejoiced at his appointment, because
"Irom thirty ycarV experience here I can £ay that there is no
country where such a distinction exists, both in religion and
minnera, at between ^xs new Knglish (i. «,, Protestants) and
dd EQglisI) {i^ f.p Catholics), inatmuch as they scorn the
aame, but will be Iiish. and never so much as at thi^ time;
Ui Ihat, were it not Tor tJk(; tiword ui jusiice by whii-h we are
Ifovemed, we had belter have lived in ihe Iodic* than here for
ufciy," I^iirUiermore, Wentworth was warned not to let it
"he tlioui^hi by the wise thai thoir conLlr^sgcndiii{- to their
fuyments are for any love they bear to his Majcsiy. but rather
to obtain tioM to a«« how the AuMrian wart proceed, and to
■TIUb ovbtnip *>■ vntf vT ihc niL^r im|u»tdHl iijidiuvulaui or the tnil^ti Vterrvfavt
n>iM Itr Cii'ttfim by IimUIIp^ t'*l tiujin i^ « rrOrc^f vt cri4^%4nH4- l^i skTtm Utie trpr«<
mUmrn lA l^t llfJtunml Hhli'h lir iWKhllilM III UuFiJln Toottalili Jomal lA iDllHlHt fn"
*^i^tm %* tUm Klig, hd Kuftcil *t Hi^lr lifnai'll* lin iffviin- WI'Elt Ut «iiJaj<4ivl, E'y iht
nHHrrn in^*tt^t* prnkar«#nirii«i'4tiD hiin. irtvit^piliii CttihiJirlu, li^ iK-'Tril Pi-ii«tUik|i
•umif Wi iirKun^iiiiiiftvuaJlji ri>ui Ix ^liO ilip f<.4l.1iiwnf nt tbr tuiL-ipj" < ■rr'i Ai iUe txan
»•« b< sad* ti^Df VU1 •ndlvj;*))' hbVuooAil tdum Lui1««t1i»|i Uilt cuiijTiicrvff ^eu IMutRit o'
tntt*4 Ilu in^rfichhicnt by ii,i tt>riiib naajanij tn the l-nslitb llitLK r,j f:Qn,n'fvt mi^l
<TM H »* f •««(vkiii, U Mat. tA4i. «■>> latl fitlrHiuhun fi^r 1ili ntant tkli ul IcjutUw, y]ft^
J
84 BEFORE CROMWELL CAME TO IRELAND. [Oct,
obtain a Parliament, whereby they aim not so at good laws to
be made, as to get good laws repealed." The "good laws"
were, of course, those in force against the Catholics.
Gockings, however, despite his bigotry, appears to have
been a man of some discernment, because he proceeded to de-
scribe the condition of the Protestant church and the character
of the men who had been placed in possession of the revenues
of the olden Catholic sees and benefices in terms which cannot
be regarded as complimentary* He said:
The bishops grow rich by sealing of sin, and their chil-
dren are Che pillais ot pride. They let their cluircbes Tall
do^n under their noaes, and do nothing that is piotia- T wish
some steps were taken to investigate the matter. I am per-
suaded that if it were done there would be found one way
or other in dignitaries' and officials' hands a mass of treasure
for which they are accountable, and grown to mere merchan-
dise. Among our clergy, if there arise any controversy be-
tween the laity and them for titles {i. f-, to the possession of
laud), then they plead their right from God. But how such
wretches aa now enjoy them derive their title from God is the
question.
Abundant evidences exist to show that there was no ex->
aggeratton in Gockings' statement oi the case. Long after hii
time, Dean Swifl wrote nearly as harshly of the Protestant
episcopacy in Ireland. Gockings' main purpose was, however,
to malign *' the iTish and old English," relative to whom he hy-
pocritically remarked: "I wish 1 could say some good of them,
but I speak from long experience." Then came his indict-
ment, in the following words:
They are crafty and subtle, but very shallow.
They are mutinous, bnt cowardly.
They are very proud, but exceeding base.
They are full of words, but to little purpose.
They will promise much, but perform nothing.
They will speak fairest when they intend worst.
They will quarrel often, but fight seldom but upon great
advantage.
They are bloody as a wolf when they can overcome.
They live in their houses mote beastly than barbariacis
or Indians.
'W-I
Before Cromweh. Came to ireiasd.
«S
Th«v bav« such ati inveterate hatred to ncalscss, that
th«j: aic Afraid to toucli hnnd30i7i«n«sa,
Thrir relisJon is to beliuve tts IhcJr Church belicvctli, b«t
vhftl that 1% they tieaher k»ow noa deMre to know, hut give
il for granted that those that art not of the aaiDe flte
decvivvd-
TheJr dcltghlfi ace in iiothbg but Idleness,
Now. Kwc^iiing as Is this sfrfcs of charges, \\ will he ob*
tvned that there i; nothing in it which can he fairt^ aUeged
to impugn the moral or spiritual character of those against
vkom it was leveled, Tt would have spoken badly for Iho in-
telli««nct of the people if. after years of civil war and perse-
cuiion, ihey had not i;rown "crafEy and sublle." tt M they
*<rf ov«rfond of incurring massacte by ^ghling "save upan
ttol advantage/' That they were "bloody" in their revcngea
'» hif hly probable, but there were many wroni^ to weighl \hcir
<vordi' That their habitaticJiiR weie wielched is a» undcniAhie
U that theff oldffl knawlrd(^e of aris and cralts had perished
■Itring c«nturic* of conflict and minule. The peasants were
'dit, because their tyrants condemned thtn^ to idleness. Even
iheir harv^itv could £carf.'dy b« called their own. prr^y as ihey
often were oJ marauding English soldieis, of rapacious land-
lord«, aad of tha tithe -j^athcrers of the ministers of th« "new
ri%ion." What the " IHsh and old English" seemed to be
lit Gockingt' eyca was precisely what they might have been ex-
acted to become under the dominaijoit of men Hke himsetf.
Even in the mid^t of their hiTmiliaiicn. poverty, and sufl^erinp,
Ihty still, as he put it, " believe as their Church beilevcth ! '*
The bigoted old knight's testimony will not, after all, be un-
iratcful lo the descendants of (hose whom he sought in vain
to traduce.
Abaot Juty. r^34. Wentworih suoimoccd the rrotestant arch-
bjthops and biahopa of Ireland to meet in convocation at
Dubltfi. wbcn they adopted a series of re^olntious. ei^idenlly
drifted by the ma*terfoi Lord Deputy, in which they pledged
themselves to uoe their utmoiit etTorts for the suppression oE
tbc Catholic roligion. Am<ingAt other tilings, they promised;
"We will for oursdvet and our «ulTragafi5, so far as in us
Ilea, proixiise lo obtcrve a uniform order for the suppression ol
Papistry uid planUittDQ of religion/' This, however, was only
t^ piCftnUo. It wa* further resolved that:
JB6 BEFORE Cromwell Came to Ireland. [Oct,
We will inquire as to who the people are in our dioceses
who receive. reHeve, house, or harbor IrafficiitiK Jesuits aud
semioaiy priests. We will present the names of the priests
and the harboiers, adding our advice and eodeBVors in the
Giflttei of their apprehengioD.
We will have a special care for the erection of free schools
in our separate dioceses^ according to the statute in that be-
half. We will not allow any Popish schoolmen to leaph
scholars privately or publicly within our diocese, and if auy
offend in this point we will discover the offenders to the Lord
Deputy,
We will be careful to reclaim recusants from their super-
stition and idolatry^ and teacU and instruct them in the
principles of true religion, if they will come to bear us. We
will in this matler follow the course of Ihe archbishops and
bishops in England, whose courses are well known to sotne
of us.
Despite the display of energy and extirpation prcmifrd in
these resolutions, the work of uprooting Popery did not pro-
ceed apace. Evidence to this effect is to be found set forth un-
der the hands of individual bishops ^ few years later. For in-
stance. George, Bishop of Ferns and Leighlin, reported in part,
in 1641, to the Lords Justices, who were governing Ireland
while Wentworth was facing his doom in England, as follows:
There are titulary bishops or, at least, vicars- general Id
both these dioceses. Matthew Roch in Leighlin and in
Ferns, They exercise jurisdiction by foreign power and
should be impeached.
The increase and insolency of priests^ friars, and JesuilS
are great. They gather infinite suras of money by Masses,
dirges, oblation, indulgences, etc., and by legacies.
Popish schoolmasters abound. They disregard summonses
to appear and, when legally excommunicated, fly to other
dioceses.
This was a sorry tale to have to recount, viewed from the
aspect in which it must have presented itself to its narra.tor
and those to whom it was addressed. The case of Connaught
was, however, even more grievous than that of Leinster. Rob-
ert, Lord Bishop of Clonfert and iCiimacduagh, was obliged to
inform the Lords Justices, relative to the doings of the Pap-
ists, that :
:
igos-] SSfCRE Cromi^'sll Came to Ji^eia^O, «?
Tbc priest) and friars and ihnt fnttion ws# vttotv pcUci«s
tbflU ca^ biiflly hp txpresavd in UinJtn' Xhv PEOtCj^tHdC mm-
islets from pioducJug gaoU cffecEn for icformaTBOD by picBcb-
Ing, calccbiBiug, or cotife»enc<r Tl>ty lake nwaj' his Riebtfs
In order 1o j:rei'et)t him from rest^liiig or keeping \x^ Iti^ ui^lt,
Tbcii ihcy do pcsiliv'cly propagate iheir own supcrslttiou
by infw*ing of dinholical .ind ^mi^ltr corcf'pis of cur fCT*
HHu and doctrine vvzix from ilic ciadle \iy tlie ffccdcm of
llic Popisti srhools. which \ht bisliops canuot &upt>rer$,
Ibrlr jiiri^IictioH being coTilemued and wnJ* de e^coMi, cwj'i-
cud. eilLer ikiL if^Licd or u ever cxecuied Ly the alitfiiif wLo
id fer tbf most part a Papht-
Tha cciidhiun of tbiigs was tcrribi/ enibairji^trng to lh«
unhappy Bishop of Clonfcrr. nnd he tLfnply threw up hU hands
4nd w»iled in despklr- licmoarpbgly h« told the Lords Jus-
lices that; "There aie In every paibh « PopUb priest and in
moM places a pubhc MA:^t-hou»e, whither the people publicly
rtiort every Sftbbalh-day and holyday, 5upcretitiou£ idoU act
pUcrd theic and lichct ai^d cuMom« exicltd," Hven mote dc-
ptor^bk tl:;«D ibis *as ihe incx Ihat. accoiding lo bis Joitlshlp.
there «m: *'fr<e and public profession of convents of friaif,
uhithtr c>flDniiT;]«& ihu chitdrtn aic forced wjihout parents'
caciteoc. and to nflront ihe clergy ihe more do tximc abroad in
their b&blK ptiblicJy lo brg coin, sheep. tXc, 10 ihc g[cai Im-
poreruhipg of the subject." Th«n caiTEe a libt of ihe ptixicEf.al
abode* of the rflvenjpg friais.
The poor biBhop, however, had even h inoic terrible Ud
to relate. He went on, and tve can imagine how he lingered
U ho wrote: " Thcrv are no minncTics in theic dioccbts we
know of, bat yec diverie women go under the names of nons
lod rclijfjoufi woutci^, dweliin^ near unio the laid fuitrs cr In
irfRic farms abroad in the countiy. who ktfcp bouEcs to criter-
l4in the prje«ii And frtan in their travel or when they go
•broad to he^'" Such a <;ouTitry and tuch a people wtrc
plainly past praying for \
The cue of Kobcrt, 1-ord Bishop of KiLlfenota. was scarcely
better than that of hi* brother of Clonfcrt, This pcor man
b«d (u 1acic»( ibHl : " We hdve in uur dioi~ri.i! one lititljir
bishop who can and dolh command more than myself, and lo
thii purpose has more priests £xfd pBTOehlAlIy by the ecnliy
than my poor diocese can be:ir by many degrees of cur own
88 Before Cromwell Came to Ireland. [Oct,
ministers." A Dissenting minister, one Henry Bell, preacher,
had even worse things to recount, in a memorial which he for-
warded to the King, and in which he charitably sought to
open his Majesty's eyes to the defects of the Episcopalian Prot-
estant clergy and prelates. Bell declared that: "The churches
are numerous. If !n fair weather ministers sometimes read
divine service, the rotten walls are his auditors. The peo-
ple go in their ignorance to the ignorant friar and priest."
Truly deplorable was it that: "The wives and children of
ministers go to Mass/* and even: "The bishops match their
children with Papists." According to Bell, the composition of
the Episcopalian ecclesiastical organization was as bad as it
well could be: "Insufficient and cruel men are substitutes for
bishops^ They brea^ contracts and marriages for money. Tf
a poor man die worth forty shillings they will take ten shill-
ings on proving his will, unless it be by entreaty rebated.
Men of no degree in any university are archdeacons. Chan-
cellors have twot three, or more benefices. Ministers have par-
sonage, vicarage, and as many as eight curates* places, and
never even read divine service in most of them." All the can-
ons of the church had fallen into desuetude. "The Popish
schools everywhere kept, infect children with their dregs." It
is to Bell's credit that he did not hesitate to denounce the ex-
actions of the landlords, many of whom were, however, Catho-
lics. He went on to inform the King that: "The poor tenant
alloweth one workman every week In the year to the landlord
called ' blackwork,* that is to say having neither meat nor wages.
The tenant reapeth the landlord's corn, maketh his hay, his
turf, tilleth his ground, bringeth home corn, hay, and turf, and
all without wages. He carrieth the landlord's cariags (P) so oft
and so far as it pleaseCh the landlord, being allowed neither
meat, drink, nor wages. Israelites^ servitude in Egypt com-
pared herewith may be deemed freedom/' There is no reason
Jor supposing that Bell's narrative was, in the least degree, ex-
aggerated.
Among the other documents included in the "Calendar of
State Papers" is an undated and unsigned report which bears
instructive testimony to the obstinacy with which the Catho-
lics of Ireland, depressed and oppressed though they were, clung
to the old faith. The missive in question described: "The
cursed practices of Romish Jesuits, seminarians, and priestA who
(905-] Before Cromiveil Cams jo ir^lanik 8fj
do twarm in ihc couniry, causing the people to swear to be
tt(i< lo th« Church of Rajne^ and m no ca^e to be obcflicnt to
thf! King's kws_'* NceHlesi to sft)-, the "laws" Tefprrcd to
ivtre thoic prohibiting the profession of Catlioliciiy. AgaiTisi
Ibe "Jesuits, 5e:nln4rJ3ns. and priests," it was allcced that:
"They have so posaeaacd the women that they declare thty
viD u «oon bring their hu&band^ to the gallows at to our
cburch-" Could Anything be n^ore ahockiiTg ? In Julyi 16271
the following mandate from King Charlvs wa& addrci&td lo the
L#ord Deputy:
We aie inrnrintd tbal iht^ Tnte dis^ved Ahhcy nr Moiu
Artery ol Ibe Pruiciseaus in or near the town of IJuiidnlk, In
County Louth) has Htwral mills, bnda, clc>» which arc con-
celled JinEl the renti lliereof nciuntly dciAlncd from \\f>.
Here follows a Km of many olhcr chantry lands*
AnjtioM* to increase our levtnue iti Ireland, we order you
(o i]ip<]iTjt El C Oil 1111 i-;sioD In i!i^cQv<^r niir (lilt lo the prcimsfs
by iuquifiitioti, record) or olhei nienub ; Ihc tnquisitJouir and
Other recordf to be retutned aud tiled in the Court of Chan-
cery. You shall EtJHke nTjdymio" Porler a grant of the tiSe-
tolved Abbey atid Monastery of the FrancTsrcans. and the
chantry Inodc of St, Mary, St' KatheHne, eic^, as abovc-
He nhftll hold hi cQxavyGii ^ocji^t. nnd {joy biich rent 94 the
lervitors in Vkler pay- He ahalL al^o have giaul of 5ncti
renta, etd aa arc iu arrear on these lands, etc-, and are due
to ua ; and for these he need noe account to us.
There were lUflTiy adventurers of the type of Endyroion Por-
t" on the prowl, seeking to picW op fraj;mcnts of ihc lands of
vhich the prie«t« and friars had been dispo^fet^cd. )t is dim-
ply mjirvclona how splendidly, in spite of advErso circuntslanri^s,
lie poor, periccuted Catholics were holding their own. The
tporta of the Troieslant officials, both X^y and clerical, on this
i^oiai were always to the same etTecl. They could make noUi-
idC of A people, the fervency of whoac laith and the con^lat-
c&cy of vhosv devotion act at naught the utmost ctTorU of
their tyrants- How matterir ^tood in numciouE cd&e» i» shown
in a" Memorandum concerning; the clergy of County Clare, and
H'licuUHf of those \n the Baronies of Bunrally and TuJTigh,
tfmya eatecmed to be hjilf oj' the county." This ofHcial re-
~-^^LA.\\D. [Oct.
7 t'z-t ::::"orir.a::cn of
i5r;«. I: wai lo the
-r:^. -v^srs x'-tz^ are ihe
^-"i ? -"-i I.3T^?cn, a
■^'.L :- ^J-~ Htr:rietia
jE.zirt ^ -Li* Vicar-G^n-
:::l=i. i^r ^i^cs Van-
iK. :-^ :; :=e Dean.
. — ,^ 3.:Ii* cf circuit
:.z-:^ ::rzr;rtj— txctpt
- — -c; ST- >::= >outig
T -_: ^s:^rif . :c, or 12
'Ti-: " ttt'. c c; rrovide
•:--t - ".^6 ^r:.£.
.-. -V : zV:.. The
'■: ■ — ;;- '— -?:s tvejy
:-^ " --:"tr> ;each-
. ^ _"i.- jc^sr.: and
» «,!> .: ::t iiv£ when
...r: Miw
THI: CAMtSRinfrE HISTORY AND IHH FRHNCH
REVOLUTION.
BV JAMF*J. POX. O-D-
JIE cighlJi voLumc of The CatftirriJ^e Mistory ej Msd'
ttn EuTopt^ covers ihe period of ihe French Rev-
olution down to the fat] of lh« Directory ^nd
till? accession oE N^|joJpon to the consulate. lis
fcncrAl chsractc Holies ere those of the preccd-
iox volumes- In slyle it aflccts the cold, severe, impersonal
type wM<^h Sa% become the ideal of the historical student. The
moit tremendous scene* that occurred in llic " red fool fury of
tbe Seine," TrnportaQi battles lifce Aboukir, thriltbg episodes lite
Ae bridj;e of Loclt, are retatciJ with coTiscientious endeavor Tor
4«uracy and lucidity, but with scarcely more appeal to the
ima^natjon than Is to be Found in Kant's CtUik, or BurkcK
£ua^ &H tkf Snlfinff. We all remember Macaulay's picture
of the pcrfeft historian, who beside* showing us the camp, the
covri, '^shows us aUo the i:alion":^Hc "considers no <incc-
tfeiG, no pccfiUarity of manner, no familUr saying, as too in-
lipiAcAnt to illustrate the operation of Uw§^ of reH^^ion, of
c<fucaiion. jind to mark the progrc^a of the human mind^
Vtn will nnt meEcly be described, bnt will be made intimately
Inmwn to «». Th« changes of manners will be indicnled, not
nittely by a few genera] phrase*, or a few extracts from sta-
listicil documentt, bnt by apprnpriate images '\n evtry line,"
Ihwc U very little of this l^ind of writing in the history be-
fere ui. or indved, in any history of to-day. TJie ascendancy
of German ideaU of research and £chnlar;hip has matJc the
bistorii^n ^eriftce the picturesque to accuracy, wes[th or deiafi,
and lystematfc analysis- The aim to-day is not to produce a
picture, but to conduct, in the most scientlUc fa^titon, a feit-
Mrr/fHi examination^ The present' day historian is not a point-
tr, but aa anatomiit.
-n-CM>M^ JlWrm /^f^A^r. plinn*^ Ur i1'- Ul* Urd Atlvi. V«tVt1t, Tht
92 The Cambridge History. [Oct.,
I.
The volume opens with a chapter investigating the influ-
ences contributed to the genesis of the Revolution by the best
of philosophic, phi Ian thro pic» and economic writers who im-
mediately preceded it. The writer, Mr. Willert, of Oxford
University, exhibits a power of reasoning, and an insight into
his subject, such as are not apparent in some other contributions
to the work. Opening with a citation of the contradictory
views of Mallet du Pan and of Mouniet, the former of whom
ascribed the entire origin of the revolution to philosophy,
" who may boast her reign over the country she has devas-
tated," while the latter minimizes the influence of the philose-
phes, Mr. Willert examines all the gftat prominent writers of
the seventeenth century, and some minor ones, who contributed,
or are alleged to have contributed, to the principles of 17&9.
He affirms that many of these principles were employed ia
the sixteenth century by both Catholic and Huguenot theo-
logians as weapons against the claims of the Crown. He
cites particularly Father Boucher, and the well-known apology
for tyrannicide advanced by the Jesuit Mariana. Montaigne's
scepticism, he considers, contributed, but only slightly; while
Biyle, " aUhough there may be, at_ tirst sight, but little of the
spirit of the eighteenth century in his writings/' had an ex-
tensive influence. Hohhes with his political works, and Locke's
Treatise en Gcvernment and Letters en Toleration, were potent
factors in preparing the way. The former of Locke's works,
Mr. Willert rightly points out, was the inspiration for the Con-
trot Social of Rousseau, while the latter gave an impulse to
Voltaire's attack upon authority. So '*at the end of the seV'
enteenth century 'principles' were not wanting to which the
French people might appeal, should a time come when they
were no longer satisfied with the existing social and political
conditions."
That time came in the close of the eighteenth century. The
finances had been ruined, the peasantry were in a condition of
extreme poverty, the Jansenist controversy, the conflict between
the hierarchy and the Gallican ParUment over the Bull "Uni-
genitus,'^ dealt a severe blow to religion. Intercourse with Eng-
land introduced knowledge and high appreciation of the demo-
cratic features of the English constitution. At this point Vol-
I905 ]
The Frei^qh Revolvtiqn.
iairc'5 LitUrs 0/1 thi English introduces thai writer to Mf-
Wi]]«rt*s iribun^. The sentence passed upon hiin i^ not un-
duly severe. He aimed at rdigion And the Church, rnther
tbftn At the throne. He exericd a powerful but not indispens-
able influence: " lie did itolhing that others aUo were not at-
lemptingH Thatn left undunc by him, they mrghl not have ac-
complished- \\\% work was negative- He d<ared a<ray the ob-
«tacLe& which dammed bick the rapidly rj^in^ fittod, but his
liand WtL« onty the most active and uncrrir^ of many engaged
la the same task; and even unassisted the Impaiicnl stream
would have overflowed and borne away the impediments to
its course."
Here the author goes back to take up the thinkers and
writecs who add:eaised theiiiselvet primarily to the political
and economtc side of the condition of France, Those who
wrolc agninM the abuses. In the last years of Louis XIV,,
such as the Comte d< Bouiainvillierf, did not achieve much;
btit every elTorl, however small, helped to start the ^^valanirhe.
UoQtet^uieu. by his satirical lersiarr Letters, helped to dis-
credit rdLgEOus and, to a lesser extent, secular authority, while
\ai Ei^it 4*s Loii, of whose intrinsic value Mr. WilJcrt ex-
pfewe« no very high oplmon. further stimulated the growing
longing lor a constitutional government as a remedy for exist-
ing cvilt.
Tbe wo'kfl of Rousseau receive lengthened consideration,
Altbough Mr Willeri. as well he may, finds enough idle iiti*
ACioaiion. bajclcsa thcoiy. and extravagant sentiment in Rous-
leao to justify those who catalogue liim as "the great profcs-
sor and founder of the philosophy of vanity." nevertheless the
Revolution livod on the ide&a which he preached: '* those clear
4nd precise dogmas of natural equality and freedom, of ina-
Htnablc popvUr sovereignty, and theJr corollaries; that every
government not based on popular consent is a uiurpation; that
the people can at any moment dismti^s IhckT rulers; that the
aatloQ being an aggregate of ecjna] and independent units
whose will can only be discovered by counting heads — if, ow-
hig |o the ^ixe of a country, a rcpreseniaiivc body is neces-
ory, thia asMmbly muvt represent, not ckfses or interests^ but
individual*."
The verdict with which this chapter closes is: Even if wc
belUve tbat the philoflophcr* did not cause the RevolutionH nor
ft*
Tun CAMItfffDCE MfSTORY.
[o«,.
I
originate the idca^ which (ietcrinincil the form it WAS to lake,
we mii^t allow that They prcctpiutcd ii by giving a definite
Bhape to vdgue Afpiratictn^, by clearing away the obBtackfi
which restrained ihc rapiJly rising flood of <li&cQntenl, by de-
priving those, who^c interests and position made Ihcm the de-
(cndcfs of ihe old order, of dl faith in the righ(e<ju$iiesft of
their cause, and by inspiring the a^aarlaals uvilh hope and en-
ihusiasm."
In the tieatmcnl of hlfi problem Mr- Willcrt evinces con-
siderable power of analysis and of lucid eitpofittion, alnng with
comriicndibic freedom from prejudices which have so often ren-
deied studies of this subject mere special pleadings for an in-
t«^re^t or a party. Occasionally, hciwcver. ihc rerader will re-
quire \0 [;ontrol Mr. WiiJcM'* eitimales, and more frequently
fciimc cf hU puling ob&tirvaiion^, by falling back upor Catho-
lic principles.
In the second chapter, Mr. Montague, lo whom falls, as
well, A large share of the subsequent nanalive. undeilnkcs an
exposition of the system of Bovernment and judicial and mili^
\Aty administration thai prevailed in Trance linmediaiely befoie
the Revolulion, and of the constitution anil relitlive position of
the vjirictus classes that n^^dc up the French nation, the dcigy.
thu nobdily^ the b&ur^t&hh, atid ihe peasantry, The extent
of the Crown's prrrogalivp, th« (LinctioH of minl^iors and of iti-
tcndaEitA of provinces, the origin ^nd gradual de^ay of the Tro-
vincjal Estates, or pcuy parliaments, arc ^ucces^ivelv traced.
The most striking inherent weakness uf the system was, says
yif. Monugue, thai there was no intermediate unit of organi-
calion between the province, which might coiuain two millionE
of inhabitants, and the village of a acore or two- MLinicipal
institutions scarcely existtd and were sJibj<ct to arbitrary in-
terference from the Crown- The highly intensified bureau-
cracy, exempt from public citiciam, talJing into all the evils of
formalism, or, to use the colloquial expression, red tape^ and
permitted by the Crown to exercise, especially in the person
of itb hij^her functionahcft, arblLraiy caprice, :ig^ravalfd the
itructural lauhs of a bad system, and weighed heaviest oa ibe
peasantry, the class which was least able to stand, any increa»e
of their already overwhelming burdens. .
19^1
The French Revolution.
95
Tht nobilityj although thdt extensive pnvilrgts, which here
lie rn[iniera[G(l nt len^^ih, bore heavily on ihe tilJers of Ihe
*oii. lud iheir own grievances. They, w a body, possessed
lurcely Any poliuuil power. A great iiumlier of them were
poor, and oblijfFd to live a life of isolation on their ctlsies.
The more powerful on^s were attracud to coun. ihere lo lav*
Elb Uwlr wealth in f^lravagawt Jiving. " As a claBft (hey bad
bfCORie uiCiCfs; ihcir propii^^tary righls very jjcnetally tcck a
lorm which hinefcred tbe progress of husbandry: their cbfoleTe
prejudice* debjiired Ihcm from lucrative caJlings. and the jeai-
#a«/ of the Crown exdbdctl th«m frijin public life. Arrogiiiice,
lUlAtJOd, and futility, rather ihan any cnnrmous wJckrHn^ss,
Kerns to have been ibe causes of the tl]-wili felt lowardi the
Ftehcti noljles/'
The middk c1b*s, the A'nrj^'^jVrV, which tnore than any other
profnotcd the Revoliitiori in lEs early suge, was the rnoM for-
tuuilcly gitUAted of alt. Confnird alinuat txclusivcly Id the
lovn« and cilies — ior theic were acarceiy Any large icnnnt fcir-
QaVt or proprietors correspondine to the y<omcii class in Hnfi-
lud— it WW made up of wcJI-co-do traders, manufacturers,
bvyen, and doctors; nearly all lucraiJve c 01 ploy men is were
AUol by men of this classn It supplied Ihe great majority of
Uvycri, judges, and civil servants, the contractors who reaped
1 rj^h harvcal in evtrry war, and the financiers who fanned the
■nrliiect taxes. ** If the henrgt^hU had litlle land, they possestcd
rc*TJy aU the capital of France, held the bolk nf Ihe public
•CCi^niies <»rid counted many a noble and prelate aiCong their
,dvbtef«/' WlUi the exception of Mirabeau, J^fayeitc, and a
\tm others, all the leaders of the Revolution, evea of the Terror,
^ting from ihe bstHr;^ttti*.it. This cU&k it was whtch lead and
^Et^lfd the philosophers an<l had bccTi mo-^l deeply imprc^Ecd
by them. It lost reverence; it saw the evil <0ects oi the bad
Aaol Myiteni; and it feared for it» owii fuiidft and inccinies; it
chafed QodeT VA exclusion from the aimy, the navy, and the
diplomatic KT\'Ice. "Such fcetinc* had not been siobcrcd by
*fly expeiieoGV of public life, or by any provident fear as to
•hat misht ensue were the old order too roughly a&sailcd.
The b^r^4&itu were not yet awjire of any dan^^cr from below;
nor could they divine that, in no long space oF lime, ihey
vaold be th« I heme of Ifivertivea^ bilier as Dlderol of Champ-
Jwt had ever pcurcd forth aKainst kings and pilesls."
^ The Cambkwge Histohv, [Oct.,
Tbc ckrfy were the only c]a»» thai enjoyed anyibirg like
«df sovenmieJit ia Fiance^ Enlernally, ta>& Mr- Moniague.
tbcy >tlll bcld the po^kion which was thrirs in ihc MiddJr
Ag««> ukd, a« a body, w«rc po&scsMd of immense riches. He
Mtlataio. upon grounds which he ^ives, ihe nuoiber of the
sectftar cltrjEy 4it nbuui 70,000; whJIc he hesitates to compute
iht nuinber of rcligioui, whkh had been rapidly shrinkirg dur-
ing; the eighteenth eentury, he submils Taine's vitw Ihat, under
Louii XVI,, the number of monks and friars was about a^.cco,
of nun*, 37,000. Whflt wka the amount o^ the Church's wealth }
Tbii question cannot be Answered iwiih confidence, Ettimates
vify from t jcj.ocxi.non ti^rt-i to ^on.ooo.ooo iivrts. This wealth
excited en^y, not merely because ol its vase extent, bnt even
more becauie it wa> almoit exempt ffom taxation. Its unequal
divtiibdlion wiih uitoElier f^Htise for dis&atisJaclion. The Churcli
abounded in highly paid c^ces and luctutive sinecures. The
•lipendft of the StrchbJihopii and bishops varied greatly; the
avernfie might be «t down at ^2,500; and the wealth of the
pr^wcrfiil ones waj often doubled by rifh abbacies which they
were allowed to retain for ihemfelves. The tithes were diverted
from iheir proper object, with the result that the partEh clergy
were shamefully iinftcrp^id The authors contrasied pictures ol
the two d»£e£ of clctgy, the ''superior" *nd the "infefior,"
which arc solidly iujjtificd by liie eviticnte available, teach us
that che sweepirtg denunciutioos of the Church and clergy as
a whole, at this period indulged in by many wiiterS) are as in-
accurate as great generalizations upon large bodies of men udu.
ftlly arc. '*The superior clergy," writes Professor Montague,
"taken in the gross, were courtiers and men of the world.
Some notoriously disbelieved ihe retrgion which they were sup-
posed to teach , and some were dissolute in their conduct. Vet
the majority, even under Louis XV„ observed outward decorum;
and, hetc and there, was to be found a prelate of sterling piety
and benevolence- Nor need it be denied thut the pride of
birth, and the feeling of assured independence, logeihcr wlih
th« tradition of Gallican liberties, gave to the French prelate?
a certain breadth and lirmncSiS of mind, and heTped to save
them from some failing'* which have been noted in their lar
more ibaIoub auoceviors- frcfessional talent and learning, it
is true, were seldom found in this class, nor did any of ih^nr,
in the age preceding the Revolution, gain glory by cootrover-
The f/cksch RavOLUTio^f,
mI or apoloj^ctU writings. They w^-ic STlcnt find IntfTecilv^,
vtiilc argumi^rit atid wit and rhdoric wrrr uniirmgly eKeited
ifiinit th« ch^fActef of the ckrgy and the doctrines of Chrb-
The inferior clergy, wrlteb Mt, Montague, cfTcrc*! a glaring
UinlriAt 10 theJr chiefs^ "Drawn mostly from a hun^bic m\A*
dJ« dufi, Of even from ihe peasantry, £icce iheir cflice had M>
few woflrtly alhircrncnlSf rt\6 cofidcmfied to poverty and fl
snonotonous routine, (liey were rarely men of wide culture or
pclithed iTianners; but ihey were usually regular and edifying
in their liv«3. In tipitc of occasional scandals, such as wtM oq-
i^uT in ever}' Urge body of professional men. the parish pfie^t?
^Pf^dAf to have enjoyed and dflsctved ihe good will of their
(oct*. They felt (or the pc<*ple from whom they sprang, and
imiil wh*>m Ihcy labored; and they often entertained dcmo-
ctnic opinion*. Tlicy had, indeed, ihcir own grievances, and
ihey might be pardoTied if ihcy fett some biilerneas in retleet-
(fl^f on what stamp cf divine the riehe« prdermenis of the
Charch were *o often lavished. Many of them regarded the
Blihop a!» the common soldier regarded his noblo colonel, and
Uthe peaiani regarded the lord of the manor, The abufes of
th? French sytitem tended to alienate those whom both duty
vid Interest Ahould have drawn together ; and the privileged
Of^erii, a mere handful among di&contcntcd millions, were th^m'
wlva rflnt into hostile factions/'
II r
Aft«r > faicly vxliau»ttve diapter on finance and economic
nndition». from another pen, Ihe narrallvc proper is taken up
'■^Chapter IV,, at the beginning of the reign of Loui* XVJ,
*"d pursued, on s very detailed scale, through the election to
^ State* General, the appearance oi the National A^acmWy,
I'le promulgation of the ConsUlution of [7vi> ^y ^r< Montague,
vbose work is l>rilliant and striking, though somewhat Lacking
in depth, and characterized by a tendency to hasty generaliia*
don.
In Chapter* Vllt., IX., XII, and XIII, wtOi Mr, Morelon*
Hacdonald, who possesBes a power of laying bare the inner
iriftgi ol action in a htghcr measure than hi* conO^re, wc
tb« count of imernaj cvtntc in the LegiaUtive Aiicm-
A
9&
The CAMsniDGK Hisroity.
[Oct..
blv ^niJ 'f^ tl"* National Convention, the fall of ihe Girandc, the
rise o^ Kobcspicrr*, and the Tttror, the promulgation of the
conaliiution of the year three, and the close ot ihe Cotivcmion
in the insurrection o/ Venriemiairc- 01 (he interjected chft(>-
leis, by other wHlers, one is on the foreign policy of Pilt flC
the outbreak of the war with ]<>afice. It \t remaikablc only in
thll it adi>]>l£ a view of PitI that most EDgEishmen liave now
come to look upon 8s vitiated by parti ^an ship. The oiher it
an endeavor, hardJy aull^cjent, to carry on the story of coiieiar-
Tt/til European politics. In Chapter XIV. we go back to the
beginning of iKe Revolution to take up the accotint oj the gen-
eral war of the Republic, opening with the campaign of Du»
moucicA and the battles of Valmy and Jemappeiv The naval
war, the Directory^ the extinction oT' Poland, Booaparie'e con
(jutit of Italy, the Egyptian expedition^ the struggle for ttke
Mediterranean, the Eccond coalition, the fall of the Directory
fiud the institution of the Consulate are so many separate dtonei
worked ouc by various hands to make up the mosaic.
With one exception, beyond paitieuhing lidctity and unflap
glng industry which gathers in every ^crap of fact thai can be
eranifned into the work, there is nothing reinarkabEc in the
treatment of the subjects. And the devotion to detail seenu
to have been carried too far If we are to study history fof
the Icssoi^a that it teaches, and thc! Itght that it alTords. w<
only want facts so far as they assist us to a comprehension of
the underlying truths ; and any fact that does not contribute
to this end were brltGr passed over in silence. Adherence to
Ihia rule would have very conslderablv diminished the sii« oC
this solid volume. The reservation that we have made above
refers to the chapter on the events of Brumaire, contnbuteiL
by Mr, Fisher, of Oxford, whose masterly handling of Sicye^
and Bonaparte, in our opinion the belt piece of work to th^
volume, shows him to bt gifted with tlie (|ualIii«aol 4 j^cnninv^
historian^
The distribution of work, too, has not been without e^iou*
drawbacks^ In his famous addre^ on the study of history dc-
livered at his inauguration as Regius Professor of History in
Cambridge, Lord Acton expressed the guiding principle of tli<
modern itchoiar; mastery is acquired by ruolved limliatiniL
Whoever would become a master in any branch of histofpciil
Vtudy, co-day, must, indeed, confine himself to a natrow fiek).
1935]
The French Rsvoi^UTivNo
99
Tae en3fm>Li& increase of milcrlal with which the prcsfnt-tfay
historical Mudeitt. a.i compared with hia prcdrfcrssors, ha*i to
vrcstle U but dimly auggcsicd by the fact pointed out by
XmxA Acion m the following passage: " Eveiy coimtry optna
iU archives and invilcs us to peneirale the mysteries of Slate.
When HalUnt wrote his chapter on James II,, Frarce was ihe
only power who^e reports wer« availabfe^ Rome followed and
■the HagEip ; unA then caine the mores of the llaltdn Stales, ^nd
'at [asl Ehc I'russian and the Austrian papers, and partly those
of Spain. Where Hallam and Lingard were dependent on Bas-
illon* their successors goueuII the dipJuiiLacy of len gcivernment^p"
In order lo obtain the belt results, Lord Acton, in planning
ic C^mhrijf^t HiUory, determined (hat each topic should be in-
trusted to the man who, preEumably, should have a daim to be
insMered an expert on tl, but, in <irder that lhT» mtithod may
taCGCod, the gcQcral subjccc must lend itself to dismemberment.
Tftb advaniAge was enjoyed by those who collabor^led en the
rcond volume dealing wirb the Reformalion, Thnugh. as far
*i the great line* were concerned, the Reformation was a ho-
mj^cnrotiF movemenE, yet its course in eaUi cuunlry that it cn^
terod was, in a great measure, independent and distinct, tt was
liVe a campaign of separate armies act::ig against a common foe.
biiE purbuini; no combined tactics, and employing various weap-
OQs. Henccp when each writer covered completely the ground
^i^igncd to him, there was no daxiger of any pan of the whole
trtsng neglected.
Bttt the task undertaken in the present volume is, for the
tnoti part, o* a different character The various phases of the
Kivolnlion were too closely correlated, through the forces at
* ode. and the man who playird the leading parts In the mighty
^^^^\^ to permit of it being treated properly by several wrifert,
c^rL rem plating iheir work from as many different standpoints,
**" «U not within the c:ompetence of editorial skill to make a
diwiiion of the task thai ihfmld assign to each worker a natur-
*^'j Of logically distinct part Ttte reiult is that the division,
I^Kitd of being a shitfni. anitomic^I d>smemhcrment. looks more
hfctavjoietit, clurnsy rntiEil.ition, Events closely associnttri aie
" be looked for by the reader in different chapters. Separate,
ff«|ii«Btaf/, preiantHtion» of personages are met with instead of
* COTiplclc Jkclch or picture, and sometimes a hisforicaJ char-
*^(r. i» in the case of Carnoi, falU to one hand, while the op-
I
loo The Cambbidge Hisiory, [Oct.
erittons whose conduct made him important falls to another.
We are frequently provoked in the course of the narrative on
being told that some matter which ought to find its place in
the sequence "is treated elsewhere." Finally, the old adage,
that what U everybody's business is nobody's business, is am-
ply illustrated in the inadequate atttcntion paid to some sub-
jects that fall within the purview of two or more of the collab-
orators, each one of whom seems to have been afraid of en-
croaching on the preserves of the other.
We must not close without referrring to one admirable chap-
ter, an equivalent for which the English reader will find nO'
where else. We mean the one dealing with French law dur-
ing the age of the Revolution, by M. Paul Viollet. Tbis emi-
nent scholar, who is a devoted Catholic, has, as the readers
of The Catholic World may have learned from its book re-
views, recently published some able pamphlets treating of the
extent of Papal infallibility. He demonstrates bow, under the
wild and criminal excesses of individuals and parties, there
developed an unconscious trend towards better things, in the
legislative efforts of the Revolutionary era: "The good law-
giver has not, indeed, more wit than Voltaire; but more good
sense, more knowledge and true legal spirit than Montefquicu;
and this lawgiver is — all the world." French legislation, he
adds, because it has been a collective, universal work, the re-
sult of historical forces, not an artificial creation or a mere in-
vention, has wielded a far-reaching influence in the century just
passed.
Current Events.
The making of peatt between Rue-
Ru»ia. i'm and japan is, of ?our?«, not
onfy ihe most interesting, but aIed
the most important of recent events. The bringing to ah «iid
<ii k wAr in which there ha? been unparallckd carnage, greater
aaff^ring, and battles [ought upon a ;caEc larger than ever be-
fore, muEt bt! n m;itler tor thanksgiving to ^vety ii>ver of his teU
lov-mcn Thi? (hatikfiitnc^s must, however, be alloyeil wiih Tt'
2r«t and di appointment that such a war should have been poE-
>iblc in these our timesi so oken vaunted as those in uhich
tbe huxnan race hat attained its gre»te^t perfection, and ^n u'hich
CLvllUation has advanced to the loftjest height* That the chief
ruter of one of the parties in the conflict was the propOEtr of
the Hague Conference for the promotion of universal peace,
■ nd thtt his adversaries were heathens and pagans, and yet
thai they defeated in an almost unbrL»k«n succeEsion of victories
X power which makes a Tnore open profesainn of Chti&ttaniTy
tbao any other oftiJon, arc circumatancef ca]lir)g for thought
ftnd reflvGlIon.^ Some explanaiiun al the mystery may be found
in the Lord's wordg "not every one that call* me Lord." It
If AOi Eufficieni to profefs. it is absolutely necessary to pracllEc
ChrltliAnity if benefit h to be derived Troin itr And wlien we
remember, what no one acqiiainleil wjlh the facts can question,
the ulter msodacdy which <^haracieriacd Russian procedure be-
fore the wtr broke out. their unjust violation of the rights of
Other ralioAE, the tramloads of wine and women which formed
ft pirt of tbeir commissariat, it is noE hard to sec why religious
Ccrentonie«, however nLimerous and ostentatious, do not bring a
bicvsini; when the weighty matter? arc neglected, On the other
hand, if one thing has biren more characteristic than another of
ibc Jepinae.it has beeii the simplicity of their Kfc, not mere-
ly their wiLlmgaeu. but their eagerness to shed their blood for
Iheir country and, strange to iay, the tender care which they
have taken of the tick and wounded. For one of the most
tuoeeitfiil of the institutions which the Japanese have imported
fro<B ChtUtian countries it Ehe Ked Cro^e Soc-iriy for the miii-
gatioa of the horrors of war. This Society owes it» origin to
10> CVJtPXXr £V£XTS. [Oct..
ChriilUn Ulch and chiTitv, and yet ihc jAj^Ancsc branch h by
fftr Ihe fllTongfst *nd ihc best organlicd in the world, Ii lias
no lesi tlk^n 9}i^.ooo cnembers; before the w^r began its funr^ti
■nmuQtqd to nfiiHy four million dollars, with an annual income
oJ more than a milHoiL Tbu» success is due to philanihropic
ica^uiKotv to imperial patronasc, to the highly organized meTh-
od* which have b<cn advptcd by Japan in everything which
ahc undcriahei, and to a certain discrete condetc^naion to the
love of decoratioaa which I> shared by all men in every part
of the Wi>rld- CeTijialy it ii a phenomenon worthy of con«id-
«r4tio«i that w« hare &a in*tItDlion owing ita beginning to Chh^
tianily, but whkh has 6oumhed and attained its grv;ate£t dc-
velopiHeat amoaig qoa-Ctimt^aEtf. What ek meant by this, and
by to iMCh beiMef that hai been revealed by the war, must
b« Ivfl to ttw wtM to ponder upoa and to decide. The matter
U th% ttottdttKcutt becaa«e the Japanese are far from po^Ec^-
tng all tb« tfioral vlrt«eii They ar«, in fact, remarkabJe for
dUh<Hi«tty id buiincM and for impurity in social relations^
fc Whic* o( the two poweri has secured the greater advantage
ft^y Ihf Trraty jvat ouida ia acjuestion which the future must de-
Vcldf ; <or th< H«e which will be made of what each has sectntd,
ftKil tllf Adittty (or Ita oppoaite) with which the Treaty is ob^
Mtvtti, us* on* bat a prophet can tell. In circles where ca^h is
iha ilvdil^t |>oini — the teit oi all excellence — Japan may aeem
^% hkV* b*M dtvcooiAted ; for the waiving cf the claim to a sum
vi vl^ hunilrad miUloiu \r, to those who value money above every-
t^rli either of folly or weakness, But it must not be
I .,^. ,1 ^1 Oiai KitMla, while paying no indemnity, has sitrren-
ltai«tl Itrillory, ha* been dcTeated m all the aLms and objecis ol
lifl tAt 1 axern eiTorti for the Ui^E forty yearf, has givtn up
ri»M Avlhitr and Ualny. tjp»» which ininien^e ivtns bad been
3if»), hai loM a lar^e part of the railway buHt through Man-
tUrUi fthd hai no lonjjer a prospect of exercising any indu-
flk## In Koreft^ Tha whuJe of Manchuria is io be eva<:ua(ed
A fIfNIli mtmber of loldkn per mite may, however, be retained
IH l>fll*f l» guard that part of tho railway which Russia retains,
WllHl "*• *lt« wilJ make of Ihefc lioldieTA will form a crucial
lilt uf h»r luiorc policy, for they will afford a temptation not
In ial|tti;uiih lh« diuMroui mclhodt adopted in the past. The
^IfltlM whtflh ilv«a 4 year and a half for the evacuation of Man-
■ VllOi tV* ftar, offer the occaiion for double dealing, in
■90S-I
Cu/!JffL\vT Events,
the event of either of the parties bcrng so disposed. With
every wish to hope for the best, several considerations render it
ittponlble to be ture that Ehe peace will be stable- The recep-
tion which ih« treaty has met with, both in Russia and in
Japan, makes it eviilent thar a large nvtmber of each nation is
dissatisfied. As to its stability we have, therefore, no ictnptft'
tion to be guilty of the most gratuhoui^ form of folly — pro-
pfaocy. Tfl fjivor of ihe permanenM; of (he ^cacc land, in the
^BopinJOD of some, this is the real reason which dclermlncd the
^^rHnperor of Japan to forego an indemxiity) tnust be placed the
r Drv Treaty whfch lias been made between Japan and Great Brl
F lam. The esiaci terms of ihi4 Treftty have not yet been pub
I Uf h«d ; but there is |^ood reason for believing that it secures
L Japan from being left alone, should ahe be attacked by even a
^■tlnflc Power.
^^^ What effecl will the eordusion of ptaee have upon the quasi
Ci>nMituti<Tn which has been granted by the Ti-ar ? tears have
bern entertained that peace will be disitstrous to this prn-
pcia1~-chat the Tsar, in the plenitude of ihat autocratic irrc-
ipontibte power which he cherUhe« as the apple of bis rye,
will cither openly or virlualiy tahe bflck the Utile which he
hi* fiv«tt, h'or, after all, he has given very little. The power)
of the new Duma are. when closely examined, found lo be so
^^ limited Ihftt th*- most ibat can be hoped ior i& that they will
^Bifford the bauU for further developments. The exercise of
^^Vlbaae powers, the election of reprefcntativea and the ciitiie or-
^^ (vimlton and admJiii»trhtioit of (hf body, arc placed undei
Ihe coQtrol of the very bureaucracy which has proved so great
a Gur*« to RuMra. AH hope for Rusaia conaUu In the aub-
je^lion of the bvireaucf.icy to the people whose well-being it
hu for 90 long n itme sacnliced to its own selhsh interests.
The coming Duma, however, is subjected to the bureaucracy.
Vk^at ihtii bureaucracy h capable of doing is thi^wn by the
fact that, on the publLcation of the Tsar's manifesto, the
Governor of Moscow refused to allow even the private sittings
of thcr ^iwitv conferences to be held, or any di&ciiaHon of
coMtttutional queaitons in prfvMte meetings, or even at meet
fnga of the jCfm*tv<yt ,- and this becautc the question of eon-
•Ijtvtiofial reform hat now been finally closid. All privilege*
granted by the Ukase of March 3 were declared, by the
•me ikulhority, to have lapsed, in view of the rtfonni gruiUd
1
by tht Mftniff^ta of August 19 Swch arc [he uncertainties of
personal lulc. The mcst thai can be hoped for i* ifint ihc
mcetmg of the Duma W\\\ allow scope to the creative force*
of the country, if any arc to be Tocnd tincrushed afur so long
A period of d&spolic rule. It may become an organic fcmre
for the p*>nple an*I an interpreicr of (heir wishes- II may lead
10 the foimfttioD of that public opinion to which In our tcenera-
Iton &II niufct bow.
The apprehensions, tZiai i)ie ptidJng of ihe ^ar uoufd Uad
10 the -ihRndonment of the promLted Diitna, have not so fu
b«cn ]U3tifi«d, Some Ruseiane expect Xhit, a« to all appear-
jincc« the Far East is row cut off from pfacticnl politic;, KuifU
wiJE cast olT Eastern lawlc^snc^a and become a Western nation,
subject to law ^nd free from arbitrary personal rtile. All mindi
aT« sa!d lu be directed to ihe coming Duma. Elections are to
be held in December. The tot;tl number of ihv members of
the lirst Dtima will be 500- It is expected that a Uka»c will
be issued granting for electioneering puiposea the right of pub-
lic mceiinf- I'or ihc lime being Ihc pre*3 h being allowed
the widest m^iasure of freedom The prettnt Committee of
Minister!, with M. WiiEe as president, is to be completely re-
mndpMed so as to become a Cabinet — rhe puipo&e for which it
was formed by Alexander I Notwithstanding the probibltioa
to which we have already referred, the Zttvs!it? Congress ha*
been ullowtrd to a^acmblc at Moscow. The well known autbof-
ity on internationfl! law, Profegsor de Mancns, who ac<rompanicd
M^ WitiG to Portsmouth, has expressed his confident belief
thai Russia will not brood over what h patt, but that sbe will
gather all het forces for a new great Mruggle; not on the b«t*
tlc'licld, but in the fields of productive work and social aod
political progress. Other students of the situaiioii think that
Russia's dreams of predominance in Asia He buried id the
bottom of the 5ca of Japan, and even think that It ii only ■
question of time when the Empire wjlE become bankrupt. Thif
anticipation is based on a careful and exhaustive study oJ tb«
financial state and resources of Russia, a study which «c can-
not reproduce here^ Rcadeis inltrcbied In the matter will £od
lE iuEly di&cn^sed in a work written by Herr Rudolf Martin, ift
oj^clal in the German Siatislical Department, entitled; 7Ar
fu!urr ff Ruisia aft J Mpin. S/iai/ Gemuin) pay tht BiflF
The odversities wiiich iht Russian government baa exp«ri-
I
I
W3]
CURR^.'^T Events.
enced bav«, at we have nientioned before, led lo «n ameUort-
liOTi of ihc lot of Cachi>]k5 and oi the various <lisscj)tcr» ifcm
the OrlhoJoK Church. The samr adverfihies have doubtless
bnn the reuon for restoring to the ArincnUns ihc Khoole,
cKurchcf. ind propcTly htikh were appropriated a few ye^r*
igv^ At all «vcnl5, thi& rcKlituiion ha^, as a matter oJ fact,
icEbftty b«ert mw^e- It has. however, cotdc loo late to bring
puce 10 the part of the Efnpire in which l&rge nutnberG of
Amcniftnfi dwell- Many provinces ol Russia have been die-
iHTbe^t ; but ID the Caucasus it looks as if a civj] war had bro>
keD out. The Tartars hate the incoming ArmenianA and have
fivvn practical expr«»&ion lo this hatred HundicdE of lives
h4VE been lost and miUions worth ai property destroyed; and
the end has not yet come.
The anxiety felt by many in France
Gcrraaoy, ^nd FjigUnd about the schemes
of agEfandi/cmpnt entertained by
mtnjT German*, and by (at it is thought) the Germjiii Eropcror
bimtcU. hai been somewhat relieved of Ute. Circumstance?* h»vt
brrn loo atrong and do not favor the realization of these plans.
The PeAoe has restored Russia to Kuropean activity and influ-
ence, tad, as a conBci^uence. France will not be left alone tc be
browbeaten any longer. The RaUict 9^0 far Irom being dosed,
It wat demanded by a portion ol the Berlin iVesSj has l)ecn
miied by a British Flee 1. and the British ofHccrs and men have
been cnleita[rM:d iit an appropriitEe manner There was, of
tourse, ooihing like the tmptfsstmtNt which characteriied the
vitii of the British Fleet to Brest or o^ the French Fleet to
I'lJrtAinouth. But the proceediou^ were decoroiif> and polilr-
The tUUer ordered the German Fleet to suspend its trana-uvres
and return to port in order lo meet the vititors* Crowds of
Gcrmaiu came from many partB of the Fmpire to inspect the
ihip* In fact, ihc vliit may be utilncd by The Emperor to
promote that increaee of his own navy which be so much de<
liret, for the sight of the l^nf[3[ih Ahip« will have impressed
upon his Mibjects, more foreibly tbfin anyihing else could have
done, the formidable churacierof the enemy which it ii thought
by m^ny thv German Klctl will before lonf* have to encoun*
t<r. For the convictiun is deep and strong in the mjnds <if
raany ihar Great Britain is Gerrnany's iw/.^rn foe On ihr oih*r
hand, many Englishmen believe that the keystcnc cf Germany*!
foreign policy is hostilily to Great Brilain, and that the Km*
peror's objccL and strongest desire is to form an alliance wiib
Ru££Ja and France against England. This accounts for h'tt
action in Morocco, which was mainly direcird against the /n/^w//
between England and France, His cfTortft have resulted not
merely in failure, but have rendered possible and even pcobt-
ble the formation of an alliance between ihe Iwo countries.
Hope even Is entertained that England and Ru^ia may Uy
a«idc Thefr dl^Terenees and eorne to an undemanding with eneh
other and with Fianct, But even if tbis Is not lealiied, it ip
nol too much to say that chronic want of success has become
H note and mark nf G<rrnian diplomacy, Even its victory over
M. Deleave has coniribuied to the rou^iMg of ihe njitional
spirit uf the French. Of late theie had been growing np in
the tnindi of nol a icw in France a leaning towards Germany.
The r^anclic hid for them become a thing of the past; thoi*
who were responsible for the annexation of Alsace and Lor-
ra.inc having pa^&ed away, A new gencEation without (he f«iae
bitterness of feeling has arisen. But the EmperoT*E aciton hai
revived the old EeeUngs : at lea^I it hai dlE^ipaifd the Iruai
that was beginning to be felt, and has made the Gern^an sym
pathizers see that, given an opportunity, Germany wa> siill ab
enemy.
The ill ancce^ whi^rh has attended German dtploinacy baa
been shared by the cotoniaL eJTort$ in both Southwctt and Bfttt
Africa. The revolt which has been going on (OT 10 long a
time in the former h far from being tupprevfed; and tn thn
latter outbreAhs of the parives have taken place which eiuve
both trouble and expense; they are not, however, of *o fof-
mjdable a character as in Southwest Africa. The general ia
command of the troops in this part has is:)iied a remarkable
procUmation, in which he set a price en the heads of the Hot-
tentol lexers. This procUmatiou met with the universal coft*
derofiation cf the German people. "The great genenl of tht
Migtity Emperor/' a» he styled htmacif, declared. In « tcccsd
proc I agnation, that he would not take over (*» priftocen pn^
sumably) any more women and children^ and thai he would
I
I
I
tSoS]
CURfiEXT EVE/oTS.'
to?
either drive Ihcm back lo ihdr people, or have them fir^d on,
ind that ev€ty Hcrero within !hc German frontUr, *ilh or
ft^thoul it rillr, with or without callle, would be shot. A
Stonn of tndi^Dation was aroused by these proclHmation?. xnd
it^t author of them was superseded as soon as x\\t German
^Uic becdJTi« acquainled with them; especially as he liad ven-
tured, in a colonial neWEpaper, to aitnbutc the renewed activ.
\^i of th« rcbcU to the fact that the ItnperJal ChinccDor had
ordered the recall oj the pioclamatit^Ti, U is saiisfaciory to see
rb«l cvCH ill Gcfrnajiy, wbert ihe influence cf the aimy is so
Creai, roiliTacy methods have to give way to the supremacy of
Che civil authority.
iJulb [tie place wbefC th« Con/er-
Morwco, ence of the Tower* on ihc relorms
which are to be made in Morocco
i> to be held and the time wh«n it will meet are still uncer-
tain. In eonsentidg lo a Conlefencc at all, Krancf ^ulTtTcd a
diplOTtiatic defeat. This ha^ rendered her all the irtorc deier-
mined not to allow all her r^Ialion^ with Morocco to be made
lb* eubjOct-niaUrr o( discuBsion at Iht Conference, espccialty
ti* mattera which have already been settled by the agreements
«ilh Kngland and with Spaln^ To eccurc this point, France
lut been didcuKsing in writing beforehand what are the definiie
Qittei-H which are to be brought before Ehe Conferrnce She
htd (o wait a lon^ time for Germany's reply, and it is not
y%X i^aiic ceflain what \^ lii charncicr , allhoui;h it is reported
to be concitiatory and to a Ur^e extent in agreement with the
viiba of France^ There arc tome who think that Germany is
■A lan^«f aO anxious for the Conference as she once wa&, and
tbftt «he would be wiTIrng^for a ccnsi(7eratiorv-^to abandon it
•nd let France have her own way in Morocco What renders
''li* a^l improbable is the Iikelihoofl tliai Germany will scarcely
*^^d a tingle Power to support her demands in the Conference,
M<anwhtU the Sultan of Morocco bav been emboldened, by
A« »upfK)rt atTordcd to him by the Kaiser, to arrest and im-
priton a local Kitld. who \a an Algerian and a I'reneh oiitscn.
TVa coDflicuted a violation of the Capitulations, The arrest
vv juatlfied by the Sultan ort grounds which were even nnoic
io8 CuJi/tENT Events. [Oct.,
aggressive than the act. The Sultan declared that he would
recognize no Mussulman who resided within his dominions
as a foreigner, nor grant to him the privileges enjoyed by
foTcigners, and refused at first to release the pHsoner. In ihU
matter Germany made common cause with France, for the Hghis
of all nations were involved. Ultimately Ihe Kaid was released,
as an act of favor, the Sultan declared. This did noC satisfy
France, who demanded the release as a nght, and insisted upon
repaiation being made for the wrong done. In the end the
Sultan yielded. Throughout Morocco there is a very bitter
feeling towards foreigners, and deep reseniment is both felt
and manifested at any possible interference with the right
divine to govern wrong which the Moorish authorities claim. It
ii pitiful to Fee bow the antagonism between the Christian
Powers enables the Moors to make good this right. Not merely
does open antagonism exist, but what looks like bad faith seems
to have been practised. If not expressly, yet tacitly was it
agreed that nothing should be done in Morocco by either France
or Germany to after the status quo. Yet concessions are reported
to have been made to German subjects and a toan has been
granted to the Sultan, the effect of which would be to place
Morocco under the wing of Germany, to the prejudice of the
other powers concerned and especially of France, These asser-
tions have been met with denials of the responsibility of the
German government in the matter. The effect of these reports,
however, has been to impair the mutual confidence that should
exist between the two governments on the point of entering
into friendly arrangements.
The affairs of France have been so
France. interwoven with those of Germany
and of Morocco, that there is lit-
tle more to say about them, especially as the Senate and the
Assembly are in recess. The visit to Portsmouth of the French
Fleet has ratified the entente cordiale with Great Britain, and
the warmth with which the French sailors were received seems
to show that it has that support of the people which is re-
quired in order to give it such stability as political arraoge-
ments are capable of possessing. When It is remembered that
I90SO
CUiif!ENT E^EMTS.
1 09
thl( tnienU ha* been marie briween two peoples who have been
nearly a1wa)'i m <^^po5i(e certLj^s^ cvtrjwhftf Mfnpctitors ar.d
nv«ls. even in modern times, to say^ nothing of th< Middta
AjccJi, &i wMr with ooe anolher, both at land and do sea, for
Tome two hundred year?, grt^at ^alisfaclion must b« felt at llic
acw (lAtc of things; and hope maybe fell that the good work
lahich had been beguri) notwithstanding this iriuhhudc of dJlTi-
cuJtici. may be permanent and fmilfut^ The Atiglo-Krench
A^cremcnt of April S, t^o-k not only disposed of alt actual
points of contlict between the two Powers, but aUo prepared
Ihr way for the removal of possible causes of friction. The
ipirit in which Lingland has supported France f^^'^inst Germany
to tlvc question 0/ Morocco has j^iven an addtilonal atrengtb 10
the Agreen:ienl, FraTice tinds herself at the present time, e»*
ptcially after the concLusictn cf peace beiwcen Kn^^ia and Ja-
ptn. in a relatively secure poaliion. She 15 ilhed to Russia,
and ibe war^ so far liom havcni^ weakened Ihe allJarcp, srems to
bare itren^chened it; she is on tht best of torms with Italy,
frifodty with Spaiti, and stHl more so with England. Gcr-
many wanted to enter into an alliance with her. but dskcd too
high ft price. The iM>nduct of the German Emperor has dissi-
piled the dteam of «n attoilt between the two countries, and
b»causcd Jt rrvivilofibc national spirit which had been slum-
bering. Whatever KraTice may have brtn in the paM< at The
pieieni time the supreme desire of the vast majority of the
peoplt ia lor peace- They therishtd the noliori that they had
DqI)^ to hare the desire and the result would be scture- Now
they h«ve come to fee that they are not sJone in the world*
tbit there \t another nation who^e de»ire for peace i« not ao
itT«i|{', The affair of Morocco hfis revealed the real nature of
tbe situation- The country is pulling itself together and pre-
pRnng for the worit-
Thc unwonted event of two na-
IfOTway and Sweden. tions who have been united for a
\oi%% time agreeing to acpartte
without foing to war flec(D« to be about to take piace^ At
tb' beginning il wa^ taken for granted that there would he
10 war; bnt U! th« ntgotiai^ons proceeded .1 question arose
iio
Ct/ftr^EI^'T £yffJVTS.
[Oct,.
which stcmed likely lo briny it orj, Whelher through the
good sense of the sUUamen and people of Norway and Sweden,
at through thcLr wHlmgne^s to listen 10 the friendly counsels
of others, the liangcr I133 been averted by a comproniisr. Tht
|>oJnt It LS9UC was the disciAniling by Norway of certain fortE
in which £he had gpent large ^uirts of mciney. ^^y the terms
of «etdeft]cni som« n( ihe^e fori^ are to be dismantled, wbile
others are IcfL a^ at present. A very remarkable feature in the
scries of evcnu whkh bus kd to the scpaiation is ihe fact that
it has been the weaker power whieh has been the mo&t per-
emptory and self' assertive. Vel not with passion. Norway
fit-tina to have been deUbcraie and cool and yet determined-
]| it very doubtful whether hislory records an inslance in
which inch perfect unanimity existed as Norway manifested for
the ieparalion. And yet there arc many dangers involved and, to
outsiders, Jew advantages to be gained. Both puwers are weak-
er and each may become more easily the prey of more power-
ful neighbors. That a union of Norway, Swedctin and Den-
mark may he brought about secma the best thing ior the well-
being in the future of each o( the three.
Tbeaettlementof thediflerencesbe-
AuMrifl'HuBeary. tween Austria and Hungary seems
no nearer; in fact, the divergence
of views seems tr> have grown. The Fcjervaiy government
Bcems to have tried to "dish'* the Coalition — If we may use
Disraeli's expression. Tn place of the restricted suffrage which
now cxisis, It proposed to mrroduce universal manhood suf-
frage on an educational basis, the vote Co be csitended to all
Hungrtrian citizens, IrrcApcctive of race, who can read and write
in any !angtiager The object of this proposal was to pfovlde
a popular ami-coalilion campaign platform and to dissolve with
this as an elcctjon ccy, thus divcrling the attention of the peo-
ple from the issues which have given to the Coalition its strength.
The Magyars have been so far unwilling Co make so great an
extension of the suffrage. The Socialists and the non-Magyar
races gave a hearty assent to this programme. But the govern-
ment seems to have reckoned without the Emperor. He has
refused to listen to such a proposal, and the government in con-
,*905.]
CURREi^T EV^HTS,
rii
encc has rcsigncdn The outlook is even more serious itian
re. Tbe Coaiit^on has entere<3 upon an illegal cciursc^it
bis coo^liimcd itself m place of the government inio a Com<
miUct o\ fubNc Safety, Among other things it has insinicied
the Count)' Assemblies to pay ofBciaU, who have been suspend-
ed by the ^vBfrLineDt for violation of i^ul>, <^u1 of the tJACfl
cctlectcd for other purposes. Passive resi^Unce is being matie
Ihroughciil the country, both in regard to the payment of taxes
ted to the vnrolinieni oi recruits. Altogether the prospect is
very dark.
Spain.
Spain has beer the scene of soine
sliange and lawless proceedirgs.
Owing to a faihire of the crops
Urge nuinberi of the peasants In many districts are starving.
Tbv Urin8 hftvc been attacked and caule earned oil; tnuch pr[
vale property has been destroyed, tn many districts flocks of
iheep were carried off by night, When artests were made, all
ih< peaunift in the neighborhood huiried to the police and de-
clared that they were all equally guilty. They were in fact all
eager to go to priaon, for there they were sure of having food.
The pri«on« became so full that ihere was no more room.
The ^veirnmrni then, at last, took measures to keep the
ttuving alive.
In thr prciat^c io }\tt admirable
biography of Su Cattirciue of Si-
cTin,* written sditie eighteen years
ago, Augusta Drane took occasion
to Umi^ni iliat reilheE the Dialogue
[tor the Letters of the Serflphie Viigin had yet been j.ut wiihin
reach of Knglifth readers, In i^^iS Mr. Tborcid pre$entcd us
with an excellent vcrsicn of the J'amuus Dialogue; iVi!a present
jrcar wiLne»»e» the ptabJkalion of a volume of the Saiin's Let-
ter*. I-^ngliiheil by Vida Scuddcr; and among ihc numetout
valuable additions made l*> our spiritual literature by authors
ud iranalators within the last score of yearsn fhcEe two hooks
»-perhaps Miat Scuddcr's voLume in paritcular — must be asatgr^ed
^n place of ih< v«ry firit importance.
To became familiar with the three books just mentioned —
TJ^f Lift, Tht tMttti. and Tht Dialogue^i^ to have largely
tiLikde up for lack of acquaiounce with ihe original tources from
jwhiuh kiiow)cdj£c of St, CAthcrinc must be drawn by the bis-
lofUn itml Ihc iludenE. The three authors write frnm three
very dllTerent point* of view. Misa Dtane'— who was a DominU
can nun, la ^C, % auperiorea-t^confitructed a hittory which ia
Admitted la be one of the fompletesi and most generally satis-
factory ha^io^raphiet in the language, Mr Thorold. a student
'of Catholic tnyKlici»irt, extended to the reader an exceptionally
good opporiunJiy to become familiar wiih the details of St.
Catherine's inner Bpirilual experience. And from the non-Catho-
lic professor of literature in Wcllcaley College we now receive
A volume of which we may say that it is an almost indisptn^able
iuppkmeni to the work of Mother Drane,
To ponder carefully the contents of these three books should
be a labor of love to every Catholic appreciative of the spirit-
tttl potvlbilitici entailed by the Christian vocation. Probably,
even on the mere human side, the lessons to be learned, and
the ini^pirniion sure to be received^ would well repay an ear-
nest e^ort to enter into the mind and heart of this extraor-
dinary woman. What MltsScuddcr has gained frcm St. Cathe-
V VHIa H, ^ctiddrf, Idhdan: J. M, Ufiii h Co,- S» \oTk.: h. P. LuiTi>h [A Co.
"905-]
NEfV SOOXS,
"'3
riue is in evidence on every page of her book. And the fact
thi: ih« has thus profittd by contact with Lhe subject uf her
>tudy may vrell br n motive to r»d?is fof the undcrlbking of
irhftc, under other drcum stances, might be rrE^rded a> an im-
pouibL* tasWt nflniflEy, to g^alh^r Jight and tlrcdglh and courage
foe our iwenticih century struggles om o( the recorded thoughts
(od d««di of An [t&han Tnynic of five hundred years ago.
Tl»e introduction, prefatory note*, ind tables with which the
praKcnt colieciinn la «nrtchcd, lorni a very wckcme aid towafd
a« inEetiigcitt appreciation of the stiDt and her teaching;,
Catherine's inlcreais were ttlde in xhcit iyjtrp, and wjde it the
view i>f her life which I he editor j>ref;entf for our conteniplntLoij,
"She wu a woman of per^ond charm and of EyiupaihJcs pa-
S4>n«e«ly wide, and ahe gathered around her fiienda and dis-
ciples frooi every si>cja] group in t(«il^t not to speak ni many
connccTiont found iw)ih people in other lands. She v^roEc to
prisoner* and outcaeU ; to great nobles and plaitv butincis mtn ;
to phyKiciani. lawyers, ^oldlerA nf loTiune; to k'tn^t. and quGcns
and cardinaU and popts ; to recluse* f«T*iiipg the Fealtfic Vi*
lioo; and to men and women of the world plunged in the in&U
of ihe dc*h and governed by the pride of life. . . . Trm-
pfrunenttf of every type arc to be met in her pages — a stnsi-
live pocl troubled by ' confuiion of thought' deepening into
meUncholia; a harnm Kcaruni boy. in who^e tunny joyoufi^nees
tht diiccms the germ of fiupcfnatwral grace; vehement sinners,
ffftrful saini*> KeIitiou» rcctute; deceWed by ^elf-ri^'bteot^^nefs,
ud men of affairs devoutly fjiithful to sober duty- CaiheiJne
CDien into every con!«ciouFineff " (Inirodueticir, pp, 3-4]*
And it i» bare justice to Add (hat into thii many-sided menial
I'k of ihc sum, Mi»s Scudder ha& been able to enter hJth ^ uch
■ntellijennt sympathy that •vcn in this land and sge her sncctss
6nfvo to be called remarkable. We dare say that of ihoie
■^biit the fold ivho receive IllumiTiaticn from the . scene oi
^^Mhvriae slfuggling rainly against insurmountable obstacles to
■^ progreis of the rcli|fiouK idealF so dear to her soul, many
*^U be indeblvd En no little decree to the diacerninc sense and
lae ^t»poken style displ.iyed in such passages a& the fallowing :
"It hM been ciaimcd that Caiherinc, a criiTnry and a half
^r. woold have been a Frotestani. Such hypotheaes are aJ*
*in futile to dUcufca ; bi^t the view h^rilly ccimmends Itself 10
C^e C-uelol itudefit of her wHtings^ It is suggested, naturally
TOC LXXXEt.— B
u^h, by htr dermnciftiions ot the corruptions of the Church,]
l^f^^nciAli^n^ ^^ iwcepin^' Hnd pcncuating as were ever uttered'
i^„ X^utbvr; by her am:ixlngly sharp and outspoken criikism ol
the pop" t n^*' liy hpr cmifiUni plea foe reform The piinKcncy
of nil thete clctnenM in her wriiings U (ch by the moat ca^tial
f^fitlar. But ii n>u*t never be forgotten (hat honert and vigor- I
Oil* criticUiB of llie Church Visible is. in the mind of ihe CMho-
Jic phUoaopher, eniirelyconftiitcfH with loyahy lo the sacerdoia)
ihtfory- There is a noble idealism ihat breaks in fine impa-
iLoitce with UAditittn and audaciuu^Jy seeks new bjinboL'^ where-
in lo »ugce*t ^Of * »eaion the cternAl and imagelcss truih. Hut
ucrtiup* "lobler in the sight of God^-surely m^te confoimr^ to
hi* inetb^^* in luture and hjMi>ry'— la rhai olher iiJr;ih<in which
P^^j^ntly bow* 10 Ih* yftkr nf ihe actuaJ and endures the agony
dC ksi'P*"!? ^'^^ *' ^**^* *** '^^ heavenly viiion and lo the im
-f^^i carihty foTfiL IconocUtltc len] against cuiworn or cor-
rupt ifi^litutif"!* firea our (>cile enthusiajm. Let us recogniic
ftl«o tti* *|>iritu»l p«tion that iulTcpa uiiflincliingly ihe di^paiity
bvtiJW*'' '^^ "^^ *^"^ ^^^ thing aigDified. and devoits its ener-
llio* lli>t l*> diicafdinjji but to resiofini,' knd purifyiDg that (ign.
ttuoli pi««]oTi waf C«th<rlne'i.
•■ Th* tnoit diAliiictiv? if^tl iti Ihe voman's character wa«
h>t pn^^flr lo cling lo i*n rdcal verity with unfallcrtng faiihftit-
HiiiBr *V^ when the whole aspect of life and society around
hAf #«tfRlfd 10 give th^t verity the lie. To imagine her wilh-
(iiit '"''^ '*■ **■* ^''*'l''^ Churchj and the God. given auihoriiy
nf llid Vicar of Christ, is to imagine another woman. Ca(hcr<
Ipv oi Siena'a place in the history of minds is with Savot^arola^
i\at wi'1^ LuHier" (Jntroduction pp, T|;.]G).
Mt» Scudder's cransUtion is 6nely madci and, in the pas-
Mk*i ^^ htiva compared wiih the original, \s perfectly faithful.
A ntor* readable version could hardly have been atleinpCcd.
Tha otn'ttlon of all indication &« la the sources drawn upon
II, 14 aonie rvient, akCLisabte in a book intended for the gen-
aral public rather ihan for the critical Bludpni; yet, on cer-
{4k\fi point*, there is a dearth of information apt to embarraaa
Bvan thv urdlniry reailet. It w^uld have been well, for instance,
ti> mtke known thAt the letters here published constitute hut
A l*lird of ihe whole number extant- And if. as may be pre-
■ jmrd, it is the cUiaicfil text of Glgli which the translator
iMed, it would teem fair enough lo expect a meiilion of his
im-}
X£ir Books.
"S
name. A^nin, sincp in some nirnor itclAJts Mis^ Scuddcr's
;adgmcni ijirtcis irom that of Hurlamacchi. to whose notes
vviiy fiCudcQt of Th^ LeiUri is so Urg^dy mdcbtc(3, the prcfi-.
cnt cdiEion ought lo indicale the eitcnt lo which i( does or
dou not depend on the labors of the learned Jesuit- We matee
thcie suggestions, whik ai the sime lime keeping in mind that
che work done on this IrunsJaitoii hafi hecn both painstaking
Jini effective, ftfid our wofds are dtetatfri less by the wish lo
be exacting ihan by respect for the class of consdentiouft
Kho]ar« to which Miss Scudder hers«Jf belongs. Indeed, wtt
«Mcrely hope that no future student of the great Sienc&e saint
vtit Uil to aiifibmc to the present editor that welE earned
QGcd of remembrance and hunor whUh, according lo our sug-
|tition. should tiLVe been a lilile more in evidericc for Ihoifle
eirlicr Uborcr* in th« <iLinc licld^
An eAf^ny * on an ascetical subject
HEALTH AND HOLINESS, by the poet Francis Thompson H
ay FtaqcU Thompsoji. ^n event to arouse great expecta-
tions. And (he reading oJ the
ufFity pis*>> which U the loo narrow compass of the Ittik
Vorlt, AAftwers iho&c expecta^lionfi, leaving ahimilancr of delight
^vcr and abovc^ t-ull dE sti^ge^tion. overruled by canity and
>c^3«. and fO chtimingly written ^ to make one despair of
«^^ luraing an ICnglish set^tcnce well for the rc&t of one's
l^t, h is nothing short of a gem, and very \\x\\c short of A
^iLC. Its thesis lookis dangerous at first; for it is a plea for
Itnlcnt dealing with the body in modern ascclicifiti. But as
^"C perceiveji ibe undtrlyin^ |hou'^;ht, one cooiea to irndereland
"iiu these leductive pagei are nor a feeble wat] for the bcg-
^t abns of laxity, bui rAther a iound cUtin of common sense
^ btha]f uF strong wilEs and clear heads which can hardly in-
hibit bodiet of diseased nerves and deranged itcmachs^ Mr.
ThumpBOo'« sarcasm is not only keen, but, what is better, it is
,X^^ when be shows up Che unwisdom of imitating what holy
of three, five, or ten ccnmrics ayo were in the habit of
Thii be calls " red-iipc ascciicism"; ihe sort that
'''UDii AO allowance for thaii^cs in phygiijue, IriiLperdnient, cJi-
I *m4 /f»Jl04V. A^iuiJf o' ili< K?)iiLiufi> bfttaron BrurhfF Aa '^? Be^tKilhh
J
ii6 New Books. [Oct.,
mate, or civilization, but bJindly adopts penances which had
no harmful effects on the "giants in those days/' who (lid not
know the exEstence of nerves* but which nowadays produce
frequently enough anxmic bodies and giddy braina wherein,
sooner or later, it will be hard for cheerfulness, charity, pa-
tience, and goodnature to dwell. There [s in this some truth
that needed telling, is there not? Mr. Thompson would have
us turn our ascetical potencies Coward the strengthening of the
will. A [nost excellent counsel and one that we regret he did
not develop at greater length. If in later editions he will add
a few pages to this side of his subject-^the constructive side,
after all — he will put us under obligations that we should find
it hard to meet. We wish a wide reading for this brochure,
both among lovers of literature and lovers 0/ prayer.
Fere Pargoire's historical sketch
TBE BYZABTINE CEDRCfl. of the Byzantine Church- is as
By Pere Pargoire. readable a volume as one couid
well pick up. It deals with the
religious life of the Eastern Empire during the three momen-
tous centuries from Justinian to 5t- Methodius. It is not an
inspiring period of history, whether civil or ecclesiastical. De-
cadence had settled upon the East; patriotism was dead there
^never was it a strong Byzantine virtue ; heresy threatened ;
superstition invaded. But throughout the people remained the
same; care-free, luxurious, prone to lasciviousneSE— -Ibc Pari-
sians of the Orient. Ps Pargoire fills this stage with very life-
like figures and invests with genuine human interest a rather
mournful drama, that for most readers of history is a by-play
seldom glanced at. Every element that bears upon religious
conditions finds a place in the book; Mass, the divine office,
monasticism, the sacraments, prayer, heresies, the clergy, the
struggles with paganism and Islam, the place of the Roman
Sec, and many other topics. Each is treated lather briefly, of
course, but nevertheless with enough detail to give one a fair
impiesaion ot the subject, and with sufficient references 10 the
sources, to enable one to follow up the matter more extensively
if one should so wish.
True spiritual religion had hard work to maintain itself in
the Byzantine world. Gross superstition was forever at its
' L'Egiin Bytaitiat di SJ7 ^ S4J. Parle R. P. E^rgoirc. Puu: ViclOr LdfiOfiR, .
lieeli, and grosser worjdljness and ^c^lilinc^s were not t&r ad.
Think of « congregation raising a fioi in church becaufo MasB
W4I sung loo slov^Jy; or oi proBigalcs trllTng ycti lEiJil tliey
rsll safe becAuic they had ducked their h<;ttd9 so many limev
to an icon ! Vcc such as these wer« not uncommon occur-
rencvt, and «veti wor^r symptoms of unhfalihinr^s cculd be
died- But, an the other hand, there were many who under*
flood (he trucr spiritual meaning of prayer, and lived tn that
Jctaying societ^H as iUuaTrious witnf^ica to ChliM^ How life
KcnT on, '^r^od an<l bad, serious and s'tUy, under the cucce6»ors
of Con^tamine, \s it strargdy interesting study with many a
<ide-light on Ela&lern coitdilioiif*^ and espedAlly fr]l}^ioii& i:on-
diiionh of to»day. P, PAfgoifc has put us in bii dtbt for de*
tcribipf it so acutelx and with so much of the old-fashioned
ctironiclBr'K wit and charm.
The Anglican Archbishop of V'>rlc
THE CRACB OF SACRA- has edited two irealises,* one on
MENTS. Baptism, the oihet on the Eucha-
fly Aleiander Knox. rUt. written a century ago by the
Icisbman, Alexander Kncji, Knox
*ia a layman^ but devoted a rather solitary life rhiefly lo the
*imiy of theology, and wrote much in eJtpo*3tion and defense
*)' the Charch of England, His palrjstii: reading way «ixten-
•ivB; his Style stately: his piety sincere. In ihe two -itudies
^mprticd In tM« volume he holds to much more of Catholic
^^hing than most of his fellow-churchmen do to-day proba-
"^Ti but there arc, of course, mnny "Roman" views from
"Wh he itrongly dissents. Students of hUlorical theology
■'iTi find the book useful and suggestive.
This little brochntet ot fifty odd
UOHALITY 15 FRANCE, pages has for its oatcnaible purpose
liy Ciodius Piol. to prove that the athffislical at-
tempt to deist roy the Christian
^*u of morality in Prance mu^t prove injurioua to the r\n-
liort An easy task, and as useless ^ easy^ Ctti bm^T Atl
118 xfav Books. [Oct,,
ChristUnc are convinced of ihb If utfa, and nobody (breams that
the cohort* of inHdclfty will pay any atuniion (o BTguircnC
Accordingly, we look for lomc ulUriot purpose promptLirg
Prorctcoff I'jara pen. We lind it in The end of his pamphlet,
wtiere he becomei emmently practical. With the circumspec*
tiOA which prudence dIcCatea, he i«]ls his felEow-ckrici that it
jl f&lM •ad fouliih lo jjuinl to the malice of the enemy as the
total cttUK of the unfonunaie present condition- There is a
corrcUtlve caufl« WJthin : '*What has mined, for a lime, the
CAUU of religion, is that the clergy, relying on its pasi, has not
foon enough rea-MKcd the nccca&ity of renovating and &trenyth*
eninif Iheexpotition of religious doctrine." There has been no
notice laken of thr progresK of scifnce. and the ftw defendvrs
of Ihe Church who were alive to th? Utiialion hnve been treated
u diiloyal TO the p»L The most crying need of the hour, in
any elfectivti op;)ijtitjon to ihe forces thai are oveiwheJming re-
Hfion ii. argue* the prolessor, "'a revolution in clerica] studies
th«l witl ensure to the clergy a thorough modern education ";
at all coits this must be realised, " unless we wish to ece Cath-
olicitni utterly Lok its hold and dwindle into liturgy."
ThJft earnest little volume* \s, in
ETBICS OF FORCE, rtvJ£cd form^ a series gX papers.
By Warner. j^^^ by the author to the Ethical
Club of Wasbingcon, about the
^jOf the Spanish -American War, Mr, Warner, a veteran of
flrtCivil War, lodges a protest in the name ol rcflion nnd of
ChrUtUnlty against ihc la-wfulcets of war. In his tiiitid chap-
ters he examines, from the evolutionary standpoint, the part
which physical courage, as far a? it prompts Co offensive and
defensive combat with our fellows, has pUycd in the drama of
human development. He points out chat the field for the pUy
of thi» ^uMity, and the coficomiiAni appreciation of the hero-
iim of which it is the main constituent, has been gradually re-
stricted with the advance of civilization^ and this pfocefs of
depreciation will t^o on till at length the popular admiration
still bestowed upon it will entirely cea&e- Patriotism has biih*
afto b««n foitered chiefly by this admiration ol physical courage.
and both together have, along with sclfishneEi. contributed to
* T*fB»Mtff4nr. S> II. E. WvTLFr, PuMMinl for Tlir InumniiDnal Unkfi, ll«fr
ton: Owi a Cs.
iW
W^W BOOA'S.
if5
ikt eslimitte that Wftr \s a necessary anil an honoribl^, BS well
t», ffc^ucQtlyi a profiublc, function cf nalicral Itfc. Wilb itc
idvuce of caU^hteamcnt, ha^'evef, thb narrow pitf(Oli»m will
«id«n Into something largEr find nobltr^" Lri ii» call It fcU
lo«r»htp, il you p3cas«. bft>ih«fhood, hHmanUro, «Qihuji*!in of
hami^niiy, civilitAtiofi* Chii&tianity. for il will be ibc fiuiiion
of Ibii Ctiristianiry lau^ht by the Ma^tirr." Hxaaiiatug th«
qncition. Can war be defended by ihe tuihority of Ihe Moaicr,
Ur. Warner ftbows thai war is oppobed to the spUit of ihe
Gmpel When, ho*tver, he stcmLp co conclude ihal war is b1-
wyi wroD^. he dofv not keep in view the fact th» to present
in ideal and to absolutely prohibit everywhere* acd always,
itt^nK that oould nof co-cxiM witb ihc Ecafizatiun of that
we two different things. Although the book is it-mt-
vhai ac^emic In tone, it is worth reading; and no reader will
El)] lo experience a re£poiTS« to the purpotitr g( the fliilhor,
vKicb i» *'to provide lomc itimului for further effort and
Niber hope for the race."
STUDIES IN POSITIVE
THEOLOGY,
By Batiffoi.
Mgr Bit)fFol*s Nwork * on tJic Holy
Eucharist is one of ihc mcit Em-
porlant &tu<1ies frorti A Catholic pen
that ha? jipppjired in T(Crnt yearr.
It dcils with a subject which is
nal only tn ilielf of erave iciporlarce, but ba^ bcc& of Utc
th< centre of m remarkably cncrgcric tonirovtri^y amorg slu-
dcitt of ihc New Testament and the Apo&tolic jige For, IcT
^^ « uy at once, K^v. Baiiffol studies the EuchariMic rnytUiy
^Bu it It tound in the New Teitanient, and as it appears in llic
^HbJitary of theology down lo the fina] formulaticrt of Trantttb'
^HiUctiaticn^ Wbat happened at the Last Supper? it a ques-
^^AM 1h«1 criltcft tike HafTEQann, HulLiiEiann, Spill«, Wemlr,
W«iMaeclter, ^nd Jtilicher have been uying to ar^wer for the
^t five yeare jn articles, brochurrs, aijd icviewB without ntm-
^r. From a purely critica^l point of view the r(ueM]<;n is be-
•et with the most harassing difhculik?. owing lo the vatift-
^nt in the 4a<rcd rtcord. The very day on lAbich the Last
Suppef took place is exceedingly hJttd to deteimmc- And
tbcD the (|ue»tion» of what U ihe primitjve tiftditicn; what i«
120 New Books. [Oct.,
the result of redaction; what is free elaboration; what help
can we get from the notion of the pasch ; what is the connec-
tion of the EucharLfit with our Lord's death; in what relation
does it stand to his second coming; and a score besides of
similar queries throng about the student as soon as he begins
his investigations, and may well bafRe and perplex him. In
the course of the researches made by modern critics, many
extravagant and untenable theoiies have, of course, been ad-
vanced, and these Mgr. Batiftol treats as they deseive- When,
for example, a serious man will put forth the opinion that our
Lord did not institute the Eucharist, but that St. Paul in-
vented it as an adaptation from the EieusinUn mysteries which
he had observed near Corinth, it takes all the charity one can
summon up to deal with so outrageous and unfounded a view
with patience. Wild conjectures of [his sort it is which have
cast suspicion upon the noble science of biblical criticism. Let
us hope that we shall soon have an end of them.
Of Nfgr. BatifToL's scholarship we need not speak. He Es a
man of eminent attainments in New Testament and apostolic
history, and his place is among the best of the specialists m
that line. He is thoroughly critical in method, and has a
rare command of the vast literature of bis own and cognate
subjects. We found him a very satisfying author in all but
bis treatment of the eschatological side of the Eucharist. To
what do the words " non bibam amodg de hoc genimine vitis,"
etc, refer if not to the Parousia ? And if they refer to the
Parousia, they have an importance far greater than this work
allows them. This is too grave a matter to be put off with
the question: '* Even supposing that the expectation of the
Parousia is the essential element in primitive Christianity, why
should this faith have to be expressed by a common meal?"
And in answer to Hoffmann, who says: "La foi eschatolo-
gique au MessLe j^sus est la cause et le but du repas; on
vent attendre ensemble la parousie du Seigneur"; we have
words that do not fit in well with the general dignity of this
work. We think that Hoffmann's statement is a bit clumsy,
and perhaps does not exactly express his mind; still it should
not be met with: "A ce compte, \es premiers Chr^tieai
auraient du rester eternelEement a table."
In pursuing the history of eucharistic doctrine and tbeo-
iogy, from the Didache to Paschosius Radbcrt, Mgr. fiatiffol
im
NEW BOOKS.
ISI
ffrci it« wi>rk of splendid merit. It U an immense fi«M lo
covar, but hi* condenBation is niaatcrly ant^ his objective aXXX-
:Qde beyond tcprd^cli, Thcrcr is nnl in the hii^lory of dngma
» fTjOre inicrcttin}; cliaptcr than thU which Idle o| the various
&0TEtiuUtion« through which this 4foctrin« has passed Now U
II stlEcd in termji of rraJism, now <A symbolism, in one I'-ilhcr
inunij|»hyMcftlIy in anr>ther diphysically^ until tht Lateran Coun-
ci1 q1 t2t$ canonized, so to speak, the term TraDE^ubstaniia-
tJon, and fiKcd iho Un^uHj^t oT thcolotiy F^ihl 4iiid l^fni, Aod
few du]{[]:alic t^rm^ ever brought pc^atc to a more agitated or
^ang .continued debate. We recommend Mpr l)atilfol'« bcolc
tvn3t&IJy. Every sludent oi theology or chuicb hiftory should
Urt it And should Study i1-
MiKs I^og:g'a link volume of stor-
"SlOtlES OK THE CREED, ics and incidents illuBiratinE ihe
By FoKS- articles of the Apostles" Creed*
deserves a very cordial welcome.
Our Catholic lilerAlure In Ihii* fteld is so scani ihat we do not
WW r*c«lt any tiraifjir wnrk in fingli^h; although there is per-
htpi nothing that citechi^ts fee) a greater need for ihan ai-
tr«tivff works wllich convey doymalit; Iruihs under forms of
tb< imaginatron, Wc remember lo have once rend ihc Angli-
UQ Archdeacon NeaU'fi atorie;* on the Creed, and we feci sure
t^il bis boohp which had a widespread circulation^ is inferior
(< Ihis eh^rminiE volume before us. These sketches are short
^nd fiDiple ; they akilfully suggest the doctrine to be tncul-
c<t(d ; ihey are vivid and compel attention; and, hcst of all,
t^cy Are pervndcrl with a deUfAtr and unobtrusivir pi^Iy which
fWss tc this book the unusual merit of allowing the heart tts
Proper sharv in ihe u»dcr&tandin^ of CliriAtiau failht The u&c
of a work like this will provide older childrm with srvctai
hippy flluscmdons of the tnain points of belief, will suggest
*^<in]«Qta suited lo lliefr years for even defendinif their reli'
v^\ and will move Ihcm to be more devout in prai^tising it.
In tJilcrnal HppcHrance the book is so bcfluliiul as iu furnish a
l**a in good tjsie to every child Ihat reads il.
122 New Books, [Oct,
In this pleasant, entertairing stoiy
JDLIA, of conlcoiporary Irish life" Mrs.
By Kfltharme Tynan, Hinkson depaTts from coQvcndou,
al lines. In it we breathe ao air
of cheerfulness, unmarred by scenes of poveity, hunger, or
strife. The malevolent influences that mar the smooth course of
true love in it are provided by no more tragic factor than the
slanderous gossip of a spiteful woman. There are, of courset
the landlord, the agent, and the lairanC But the agent is an
all-round good fellow; and we are almost as much interested
in the love of his daughter for her big, generous Englishman,
as we are in that of Julia, the heroine, for her distant kinsman,
Sir Mortimer, Julia, a tenant-farmer's daughter, manics the
titled young landlord, who is a heretic into the bargain^ Yet
the county families do not treat the match as a mesalliance;
and, more wonderful still, it has been promoted by the parish
priest — an admirer of the late Father Dolling, by the way-^
although the young lady had already "entered^' the convent
in the hope of a black veil. "He had never/' to be aure,
" been one for urging girls into convents. Lilce most priests,
he desired rather that they should marry and give children to
the world, and souls to the Church."
Under the cunuing hand of Mrs, Hinkson the story de-
velops so easily and plausibly that these seeming improbabili-
ties never tajc the credulity of the reader. All the characters,
too, are drawn with scrong individuality, while everywhere one
notices the deft touches which indicate that the writer, in her
portrayal of her people and their manners and ways of thought,
is not serving up second-hand experience.
The very title of this voiumet w'^l
REFORHATIOV AND suggest to even the casual rcadei
RENAISSANCE. of history questions, movement*.
By Stone. causes, and effects almost witho»3t
number. They are questions acrv^
movements that for almost the last four hundred years ha^^f
been the bitterly debated ground, not only of history, but at -^^
in great measure of religion. Happily the ground is bei^^f
cleared little by little. Claims once most obstinately ad vadc^''
'Jalia. B>< Kairiaiinc TynAR. Cliica^o: A. C. McClurg & Co.
I Rt/ormatiom and Jtmali^anif. By J, M. Siont, New Yorli : E, P. DuHon t Ctt
^wl
New Booa'S.
"3
nd defended, because they were ihoughl to be e^spntiolly
to (uTJclamcnial truihe. and heocc a friffti must be dc-
ar« found untenable m the light of absolute hittorical
Inith- Proud boAsts, long and loudly bcralded a& legitiin&le
prnirtW, by thu >dvocai?» of certain r^ligioui tenet;, bccaoie
]1 v» only on >uch protEtls their religion could ic&l, muEi
OK be hufthe«l, for Eriilh hag bhown iJial they have no plsice^
Woifcer* on every side are bringing the past before present
1% Aod tbe pait coniiiaa bi^lb rtch ant] glorioufi tiea&urts
d wortbleui and merely earthen vctself.
Anionic fiuch workerf we may iridude. wtth a note oE en-
aiitBtic praiae. the author of the present volume^ MifA
Slooe is ucll Itnutwii ttirriLL|j>h her excellent Mary tin itrst.
&/« 9/ J^ngtanii. and the present volume deserves an equally
mccTLirafiing reco^niiion, Covcrirg such an extensive period
ol ti[no^l377— ;f»i0^i4jnl dpnting with to many world wide
povements, that have not yet by any means exhausted them-
ve«, ihc volume inuit be deficient in many wayi. It fa
ntccMarily limited in its ireaiment and innumerable volumw
hive been written on what htre ate chjiplers- Ni'ctferthelcss,
correct historical cMimatcs are not necessarily a matter of
ptftt. For the vast majority of human kind historical events
lad faUtoiical men must be presented deiinilely, in smail com-
; and Mt» Stone's work is a book for the majority. This
El not mean that it is carelessly done or incorrect. Rather
t it ttccurat*) it la scholarly, it evidr/nces a most eKiensJve
mOing in unquestionable authorities, and it presents a qitei-
^aa or an individual in a fair, unprejudiced way>
The author's treatment of the Reformation and the Renais-
arc (]uitc diftlinct. By the dislinot treatnitnt whkh »he is
rily compelled to give them, it H shown that one was not
the outcome nor the result of thr other ; that Protrstanlism waa
floithe oDtcomr of. nor demanded by, rhe new Iraniina; that
Cubi^ciim ira« not aided or necctiarily cTeptaved by it.
The beKlnnln|rfc of lh« onfottgnaie days of scUimil a^id her-
9Xy, (or the Church, are placed from the lime of the sdiure of
Kavk by Louis of Ilavarla and the residence of Clement V, at
vicaorn^ That exile and captivity of the Taiiocy, and after-
1 the schism of ihe West, threw its shadow over all Europe,
ind, practically, waa never to be lifted. " Wydifisra," wc are
d, " if certainly coeval with the rise of l^ctesUntlim in Ku-
tOfMv" Yet England, in apicc of her complainls against many of
lWa£iioDs of die Holy Sec, complaints oftentimes amply jus^tili-
■ble, wAA tkf^^f illogical enough to confound two orders of IruEh»,
Here Miu Stone expresEcs very well a judgment similar to that
Ipwa by Abbot Goiquet in his latent voLume. M!gs Stune
«rit«> :
Bat In Lli« midst ol mnch ^tneta] cooinsion, ideii^ werT
nvvrrtbclcSB cleaily 4le£ii«d on (>trlRin points, and ra nmoitai
of discontent wilb Ibe levying of lasts nrsued oppo&ttjou to
Ally docuine of the Church or rei^olt from e1i« spiritual author-
ity ofthc Pope- Heresy wa« practically unknown in KngUud
tiultl the ruiddle of Ihi^ fourtrtrtith century, and appeals Co
Kouic were frequent, ua lo Lhe highest tribunal uu eartb. No
greater mi^inke cna be tundi; than to suppose that Kngland
At any lime prcvioua l& llie ReEotmalJon, ;u Ihe sixtcerilh
ceolury, was evei anu-Papal, Tlte freedom and ri^bt** of
the UnE^ifih Church bad been guaranteed by Magna ChaUa,
■lid fcnmined unininnged unlil Ihtv were taken B.way by
Henn- VIM, Olreu tncri almosi to rUe snapping -point, the
diiwatisfaction of Hngli&bnteii with th« tempurdl administrQ'
Lion nl the papal governnK^nt bad nothing whuttrx^tr 1o do wHh
thcif belki in ibe Pope as supreme head of the Church on
Mrth, and to tbem the /^m/**™/ occupant of the Holy See, so
ollen accused of trraiing Knglfind as a " mikli cow,"* was a
distiiicl personage ftom the Successor of PeLcr. holding the
Keyj^ of the Kingdom of Heaveu^
The ditiinccion) of course, musi be bandJcd dclicatelyt for
iho man in the street is. otteniime£ ruled by feeling and not
by reason and"— the bonds tlid snap.
Tendencies and niovcments are illustrated and made plain
by iheir principal feprrsenialivcs. WycUi's most welUmerited
title, according to Miss Stone, is that ol "Morning Star of tho
Reformation," nnd this nor only for Kngland, but also for
Uurope^ Hit doctrines were bfoug^t by Jcfomc of I'raguc into
Uaheini4 and defended and propagated there by Hus. They
•proid to Germany also^ Tho need of reform in the Churcb,
both in England and throughout the Continent, it clearly shown
by ihr author, both in ^rneral btatemeiit and in the detailed
picture* pretcnted, which oftentimes tpeak volumc^^ That the
povrcr of reformation wa< within the Church herself is shown
by ih« Htinily men and women, the ea^cr reformers, who noi
isotl
ASW BOOAS.
35
<mly lived, but who worked cncrgeticallj', 1o achievt; it and in
^tn succeeded.
K-iclies do net ntc^MBril^ tnipl}' cori»pl30>it, Iml it ntuBt
ht oiiicshtd that wilh f rcnlng opulence the cnouki had ac-
quired geccT«llv a taste for icfioemetit and lusurj- oUogeiher
a! Tj^TJaiicr Vihti the apint ol tlit^ir fi^undPT. A priccr^HltTtof
in armor, alteurled by ATiited rvtaitKrs Iti tramp and at cr^uil,
WAA a dUtinct cctilrndidioc of llie idea and iiiteclioQ of St.
JlvTivtlict, no Ivst. Lhan the sigliL so oRvii pie^eiilvil Id llie
public gaiK of a lucuk dici^d tLk« a £iie geislleman, aud £ur-
roundcd b^ pomp, splendor, and maEnrJicencc. Keverihe-
!««», it ihc picture is a black one, tht^ pTirpTe paiches arc
»in(tilar]y bnlliatii in places, and a general survey of rcli-
gioina com nj unit les in ticrman}', bvfoic and ul the tLnj« of thv
KtfiuruiAiicn, reveals a comlUioa oE IhEngs, tf not exemplaTy,
yet not cxccptionaljy bad- - - - PhyticJaui were not
u«nling to lay tbeir fingers on the wounds and to «ay *' Tbou
alleftt bcre. andbcrc."
AmoDR tbese physUiant ^ei<, £n Gerjnany, such men m
GciTei and Wttnpheling, The former's scrmuns and idslructions
ife of particular value in icarning what was then popularly
tftDfht concerning faith and induEgencea.
Such men as Ihe^e would barJly bo popular ftivorites En
iny nj^r, bni at! Ihe be^l und iioblett amttux tbeir coiilcm*
poraHcs understood and valued them as ihey deceived. To
tbemMlvM tbey ae^med lo [ail, and it t» true that all their
efforiit were unavailing to avcti the caiaslropbe whkb ovcr-
ttbelmed iheir country a lew year>t Uier But it i^ impossible
not ti> ttt tn each Catbolic rt- tormer tbni principle' ol vitality
ever at work in the Church, pioducmA men o( the nece^iary
Sb<e to testify to hei dJviue tutasEou iu every crtaiti of the
wofld'a fal*tory.
Savonarola in Italy was another reformer, Mid
if tbc ci'm re«»cnin|r and tftern tppeala of a Geil«T von Kai-
fteabnrK had been almoAt ineffcotual lo rous^ the rlmniant
sense of religion in (lie Teuton mini!, Snvorvarola's eltqiieocc
parked woudm on Ihe mti^t seitailive Tubraii teotpeiauienl.
Tb* catastrophe came, caused by moral laxity in place? High
tad toWt tocial inju&tkes that begot poverty and unicta arid
i
lae NEW Books. [Oct,
anarchy ; the spirit of revolution to seize propert)' and make it
one's own. Lutiier in Germany; Henry VIII, and Elizabeth in
England; Knox In Scotland; Calvin in France; arc all ex-
tensively treated. We are tempted to give further quotations,
but space does not permit of them. £ut we must add the
conclusion of the chapter on *'The Catholic Revival:"
ArtSt craftSj and inventions of all kinds are a means not an
end in themselves, and the Church is not pledged to Media?-
valism. or to the Renaissance, or to any phase. But she takes
aEE phases as they come before her, and uses them inasmucb
as they serve her purpose. She has a work to do for the souls
of men as they pass throuj^h the world to eternity, and she is
atraiteoed tJII that work be accomplished. Creatures of a day
criticise her at the bar of their own particular judgment,
jndging ber by the blurred lights of their private judgment.
Aud the generation that has judged her passes away, and is
succeeded by another, which, as often as not, cancels the ver-
dict of its predecessor and substitutes one equally fallible;
and so on through the ages. Meanwbile all the generations
of men disappear, and the Church remains to the end of the
world, because she is the pillar and ground of the truth, is
informed by the Spirit of God. and is the earthly tabernacle
of the Holy Ghost.
Wc trust that this notice will lead our readers to procure
and to study this important and very useful book, and if they
ar.e not able to get it for themselves, at least thai they use
their good oiTices to see that the local library procures the vol-
ume for its patrons.
To the polemical literature that has
THE CONGO QUESTION, come into being because of the
By Wack. Belgian administration of the Con-
go, Mr. Henry Wellington Wack,
a member of the New York Bar^ contributes a large and in
many respects an important volume.* Mr, Wack holds a brief
for the Belgian side, and while in some places he brings to his
case a temper too warmly partisan, still in all fairness it must
be said that his work successfully disposes of all the charges
* Tkt Stcy of tkr Co9so Frtt Sfafi. Social, Poliiical, and Ecnnontic Aipecls oi [he B?U
gian Sv^icm oi Govfmnirin In CfeitibI A(riea. B)f Henry Wellington W:icli, 1'', R,G.S. New
Yoik ancL London : G. P. Pulnani'a ^ns.
I505-)
N£U' Books,
12;
brcvght agAinft ihc nelyians. and clci,«cft n controversy vh'nth
bad its origin in rival commercial interests and anti- Catholic
Bui scan from lU value as a pka for the equity and wi5-
dom of King Leopold'^ admluistraiion. the book haa ar inlcrcst
■hiih makes a strong jipprai U* the k*''*^*'* reader. It is ihe
iony of the £oundaiion and development of what promises 10
be 1 itrcat tlAte, a state uritjuc in many waya and big w:lh
puiubiiziies- Out of d group of savage tribe-:, many of whom
vire cannibaU, ftnd atl warring wirh cac1> other, holding £WAy
ov(i region* that in Ihe aggregate had been known simply as
the " Dirk Conitnent," has been evolved thts wonderful, pcacc-
fflljAncI onited doinirion, the Congo Free State. The regenera-
tJDs, political and economic as well as religiouf, of this vasi
Ttgion ha^ been acc«^mplUhed in a liltlc mare th^n three de-
(iJb by the indomitable perseverance, patience, and sagacity
of the Belgians,
The men chosen by Leopold for this great work have $.howQ
ibfmselvM on rhc whoEe capable adminiMtntots and generally
worthy of the confidcnije pUced in them. Stime mistake* were
Aide in the beginning, and some nf the ofliciaU were found to
be (ruel or incompeient; but these mislakea are nil but inevi-
table in the beginnings of any great cnterprJDe, and it is to the
tnih of Belgium that not ouc of these unworthy ofTieers was
rttiined in Ihe service of the state, whei^ the charges against
bim were establiahcd- And it is only on such grounds that a
'ev merchants in ihc rubber trade in Liverpool^ aided by the
bigotry of people of the Exeter Hall type, have £tirr«d up the
n^uddy waters of controversy, rhac at one lime Ihrcalcned to be-
^^t world-wide
Mr, Wack has given careful study to every detail in the
•tofy of Ibc marvels created in the Congo. Though he had
n^ltlie advantage of personal acquaintance with the region and
■H COndhiooK^ he hag bef^n for over seven yearfc a close student
«l affair* in the Congo Free State, and prepared himself for
t^? irrUing of lea history by several years of tpecrat re£rarch
"ft ill the documenlfi relating lo hie <iibject. The archives of
tbe Adminiitratton Oilice at Jlruscels were opencrl 10 htm, and
* « retail, aiid qnite apart from the coniroveraial side, he gjve&
<^t readef a wonderfully graphic picture of the upbuilding of a
ETUE SlitC.
128 New Books. [Oct,
Africa is the "land of coniTasts " ; it might also be called
the 'Mand of the surprising/' But we put this book down with
the conviction that the work of the Belgian in the Congo ia
cerUinly^ among the first of the wonders, not alone of Africa,
but of modern civilization- It is only equalled, perhaps, by what
Lord Cromer has accomplished in Egypt and the Soudan, when
for the tirst time in history^ or rather, authentic history, English
rule and English methods have made Egypt a solvent state,
and accomplished this, too, with not greater, but Largely dimin-
ished taxation. The fellah is no longer the prey of the tax-
gatherer and the money lender; and this marvel is due entirely
to the English condominium in Egypt. But justly cquai to this
wonderful achievement is the result already wroirghl by the
Belgians in a region where civilization bad to begin with its
alphabet And Mr, Waek has worthily written its history.
These two books* will be weU
BOOKS ON PLAIH CEAKT. comed by all who are seriously
interested in matters pertaining to
ecclesiastical music, and particularly to the present discussion
on plain chant.
For a number of years back, and more particularly since
the issue of the Instruction on Sacred Music, in November,
1903, the Solesmes School of Plainsong has attracted much at-
tention from choirmasters and music theorists. The claim thU
school makes of furnishing the most authentic copies of an-
cient chants, and the undisguised approval which his Holiness
has given to it, by entrusting the preparation of the Vatican
Edition of the Chant to the monies at Appuldurcombe, have led
many musical scholars to investigate the principles and meth--^
oda which guide the lesearches of these zealous Benedictines.
Plain Chant and Solestngs lets the reader into many of their
secrets. The collaborateurs, Dom Cagin and Dom Mocquercau,
have succeeded in producing a most interesting little volume.
The former gives an historical sketch of the work accompiished
at Solesmes since it was inspired and inaugurated there by
D^tii Gueranger; the iattcr takes for his theme the School of
Solesmes, considering in turn. Its Critical Method; The Histoiy
of a Neum; Evolution in Taste and Tradition. We heartily
* Plain Cltawt OMd Saleimts. By Dcm Paul CJigin, O.S.B. , and I>om Andr^ Moc^ucmna
O 5 II. l-Diidon : Bumi & Oatea, Lid. Grammnr- of PUtns&Kg. By ihe BcnetUcUnei of
Stanbiook. JrOndon: Slanbrook Abbey. U'orccal^rr
I»PS-J
NE»r BOOXS.
129
»Di»nfn«nd this book to ill n^ho have been seeking IJeht on
itrt Soltsoics in ct had 6.
This book, A Grmnmar &f Plaw&ng, does not dj6«r laa-
uritlly from the other grammars which have been already re-
vi«w«d at some length in recetil issues of thi» niaga^inc^ Fcr-
bipE ii is not quite so bewildering ^ some other '* clear and
canciie'* grammars of pUin chant which have come from the
pCDi of Solexmes experts. But Solc&mcs notation, ptalmody,
md rhyEhni will Always be confu&mg to the beginner , we think
ih« much which i» fouod in Solesmes books about these matters
nuld be proltiably omitted. An Irrelevant chapter on the
pruTiuQGiation of T^tin consonants ascardirig to the Italian
Biftiiod U Jntroduccd. More instruction on the acfompanimetit
of plain chant might be fi^tpecied in a inanual a|~ this kind,
but. withal, the work may bt said to be useful and not alto-
|pihtf unworthy of the school \\ repreatnia.
Qi4 Times in tkf Cohntes is the lalcit o] the Educational
Briels published by the Superintendent of Parish Schools. Broad
and V*ine Str*i«ls, PhtUd«[phia. The pamphlet was written by
the Rev. H, T. Henry, Litt. D-, and ia reprinted from The
Jt^anij of the Amtrieart Catkvlit Hisioriml Sti^tety- It is a
criticism on a notoriously unTaJr book, Ofd Jimrs in the Coiereits.
This critJci^m persuaded Dr, Brooks, Superintendent o( the
Philadelphia Public SchooU, to withdraw the volume from a
CJitalosuc of books, proper for residing in the: public schools, in
which he had j»Uced it. We hope it will perstiad*: others, who
read or give advice on what to read, to form a similar judg-
ment. The pamphlet evidences extenaive rcadrng by (he au-
thor, and is a little mine of information Copies niay be had
wttho&t G04t by writing to the Superintendent of Parish Schools
al ibe addren given abova.
Tbe Report of th< Sixth Annual Meeting of the Interna-
llOfial Catholic Truth Society ii^ctudcs, bc£jde& a general re-
view of the S'xiety't» labora for the past ycAt, the complete
«<klreu on "Truth and it* Responsibilities'* delivered at the
metttoi; by V«ry Rev, £dTimiid T Shanah^n, U-D.
VOL, lXXJllt.->4
H^ESV S0OXS.
Tkt Pientir F&nfastars of H^trricanes, by R^V, Wallrr Ml
Dtuqi, SJh. iv an intcrffiliQg and instructive pamphlet deaU
ing wirh the A^Irt^namka], magnetic, and metcorotogital woik of
the Royal CoUeg* of Beli^n, in Havana, since iSS7-
We have received froir the Northern Pacilic Railway Wp9f^
iierUnd, a hook that reveaU in prose and pictures the wosdm
of the Ncrthw€5t- The book, wc arc itformed, may be obiained
by sending &ix ccnU to K. M. Cleland, St. Paul* Minn.
A series of reports worthy of special notice has been sent
to us by the Association of Catholic Charitira. The reports are
encouraging and even itispirmg, lor they show in a very prac-
tical, evident way how Catholic charity extends to every chan-
nel of life. Here are included repotts from Committees on
Prison Work, Settlemcnt&j Girls' Clubs, Day Nurseries, Auxil-
iaries to St, Vincent cle Paul Conferences, Hospilals. Sewing
CEasies, etc. Our own words of praise and encouragement go
out to Iheae enthustaaltc workers.
The Society of St> Vincent de Paul, of Brooklyn, has issued a
specJaL Golden Jubilee Report- — 1855-1905 — which tells a moat
heroic story oT charity.
The Union Pacific Railroad Company has issued a copy of
the famou? photograph " General Grant and Party at Fort San-
ders, Wyoming." Its time is t867. The picture is remarkably
good and eKCCjJtionaily interesting. The Union Pacific aflers lo
pre«eni it free to any one who tipplics for it.
•' The Hard-Hearted Man/* a play of merit by Scumas Mac-
Manus and Thomas O'Ccncannon, is published by M, H. Gill
& Sao, of London, in both l^nglish and Irish, It will Interest
English readers, and doubly interest ihoEc who are conversant
With both English itnd Gaelic.
The Angel Guardian PreGE. of Bo^ioti, Ma^s,, haa issued an
attractive hand-book enliiled The Chtisttan Maiditi. The book
H a tratisUiion from the German of Matthias von Bremscheid,
I90S]
New Books.
T.ir
by ihff Young Ladies So<!al?iy ol Holy Trinity ChTirch^ IHos-
ion. The preface fe wrttlen by EUh^p Stang. The voljme \s
VtrUcalirly Builfible for young girlb.
The Mftcmillan Company hs* published in a fmall t\zc, yet
tich larfic. dear type, 00 eduion ol Douish Futry TaUs nvd
tfgtifds, by Hans ChrUiian Andersen. The trartfltation is done
by Caroline Peachey And H W, Dulckcn; iJie biogriiphicai and
introductory notes by Sarali C. Brook», The ^ame company
aiE it^ucd a similar edition ol l.an^jt.'U'ii''i Hunvttthit. This
mcludcB excensiTc biogrsphical and explanaioiy noics by Eliza-
bctii J. Fleming- Both books are ^pcciatly edited uith u view
txi make ihem of educational value to the young.
The original complete Italian text with page-for-page Eng-
Hah Iranfilatt^n oF the FarncuE Magtllan' s V^ys^e Ateurtii the
WbtU, by Figafetta, is soon to be published by the Arthur
K. Clark Company, Cleveland, Ohio. The work is iraasUted
vA edited with «KEensive notes by Jamea A. Robertson, who
ubiiTed aim in editing Tht Jrsuit Rtiatictts. The $iA\hncc
■hrcEi ihow careful and painstaking work in the trAnaliition
md publication of this important historkal documentn
^oreion periobicals.
^'At TikbUt (ig Aug,): Dr. Fdix dc Baclcer publlslUM the fiT&t
oi a nvrirrs of pkpers entitled: " Lout<les and lh« Dcc-
tOTs." The writer is a sdenttsi of citiirient European
dUilnction, Dr de Backer introduces bis subject with t
comnientAry on Ihe proceedings of the FreC'Thougbl
Cori^rvM held feccrttly at Rome. The *' Miracles of
Scknce " arc dtscuMcd and the scientific outlcok is thown
to be niOEl promising. However, in considering the
growinj; man arid his increasing gloiy, ihc Docict aiks.
i» nrno ih« principal or only ihe accessory? With La
marcle. wiih Bernard, PasUur. and "all workers who
tbink/* bo repLtefi : "Naught has £ny vaJue apart from
iu maker The veucl is in the hands of the potier who
formed It/*— — The vprrad of the miasLonary spirit among
the Catholkft of the Utiiied Slates Js noticed as a wcl-
come indieatfon that ft much reeded «oik is being ef-
(ect'ivety undertaken,
(j6 Aug,); An interesimg account of ihe Calholic Mis-
lloita in the Tonga or Friendly Islands is given by Dom
Mftieniui Spiti, O.SB. The progrcfs made by the mis-
llunariftfl \% thown, also the ohstadcs placed by a hotlik
lagiitatlon imposed upon ihe natives by Methodist polili-
ul atC«nU' Grant the Chiiich full liberty o% action, says
the writer, and she will tell a -story of future victories,
Dr. de Backer points out the difFerences between
the ntiracles of Science and those of Faith, He hails the
nuraerouft, convincing, and startling cures performed at
I.ourdes and takes pkasute in substantiating these fa^ts
with medical recognition,
•fkf AUnffi (Sept ); Kaiher Sidney F- Smith concludes hia at-
tempt to furnish a solution to the problem of evil.
Regarding the Uenenden volume of Tudor songs and
Oiutic, a great part of which h irom the pen ol Henry
VIII,, Mr. Rhys Tryce offers a conjectural explanation
<tt how the book got to Benendenf in Kent, wheic it was
dl»cov«red; and, in a half serious way. he finds in some
of the piece*, an index to Henry's character in the
earlier year» of his icign, when, though already immoral.
A
<w]
FoxEicA Periodicals.
133
he W4G Alill pious Mt Karl Cherry gives a slight
sketch, based on i-ather Lcuis Lc (Jonte's Memoirs and
Okitrvariant, of the roriugucsc JcBult, Father Verbiesl,
whc>, in the paJmy day» of ih« Society, bdcanie " Presi-
duii of the Mathemacick," at the Imperial Court of Ptkini
The autobiographical paper of the late F. B. Lord^
fcvi«wing the path which led him from Anglicdnitm Eo
Ramf, is concluddd.— ^Thc Countess tie Courson sifm-
mariies the methods pursued in the ant i- religious cam-
paign oF French Freemasonry, who&c power and inclina-
ti<in for evil are such as would scarc<^Iy be creditecE by
those " who belong to countries where rreeroasonry 15 a
philosophical and philanthicpic icstitulJon/'^ — The ic-
viewei has seme hard things to say abaul a devotional
work on the HIesscd Virgin, recently published in New
York; ''We can," he writes, "conceive hardly anything
more likely to tell adversely^ in the long run. upon de-
votion to the Mother of God than books of this class/'
Ckutik Quarterly J^tvi/w f July) : An article on the laie
Canon Liddon gives an altrsclive pjcluic of L.iddon's
candor of mtnd atid earnesfnrsss of rpiritualityn He
«vaiL grievously troublrd in hi^ later life by ihe picgieis
of highrr critigifiJTi within the Church; alihoiigh, with
characteriMlc nobility, he lecogtiiied ihe good la'ith and
good will of the men deroted to such viewv^^ — ^A study
of the fourth Gospel takes ASJue wilh Wendt's theory
of the campcisite auihofship of the Gcspel, A bio-
graphical sketch of Burne*Jones is intcrcMing, An
e*My orJ the early ChriEtian Sociely diAcusEes the inner
of the first Chriaiian communities. The "breaking
bread " was a "leafri of thanksgiving, a Eucharist,
an^ one of the visible £igns of Ihe unity of the early
Cbrialun body." The Anglican Church in Ireland,
according to another paper, has recently been con-
fronted with a serious linancial embart^Mroent. but the
reccot formation of an *' auxiliary fund" promises to
relieve the situation, Th^ other articles are on An-
gticanitcn in Newfoundland. Geoige Ridding, first bishop
of Southwell, and on some features of recent English
history.
U*^*i (20 Aug.): Victor I^iMlct telii what the Church thinks
of public debutes on religious topics^ First comes aitv
134
FoRsiG.v Periodicals,
(OCL,
historical feview of ilie most famous meetings of thU
nature, vts.. St. Auguaiinc m (Itecu^sion with the Dotia*
tists, St Dominic in Langucdoc, the Di«t of Wortni,
and the many cti]1ui:|ijiefi thai IdIIomvcJ during: the six*
Crcnth century. Upon these the ^vriier say^ the Church
has not li>oIced with favor Alexander IV, prohibited
the laliy Iroio arguing on uiatlciB oF Uilh under pais
of excommunication. In xOs^ coNQ^tiics with the here-
tics were entirely- forbidden. This decree o( the Con*
gregation of the Propagfanda tru brought up a few
years ago lo pievenl cLcbalcfi betwi^en Calhohes Rnd the
Socialists of Italy, the latter being regarded as heretical
on £.ecouni of ihcir erroneous views of marriage, righii
of property, origin of authority, etc. The writer is
rather distrustful of all these discussions and thinks it
a wise plan lo follow carefully the rulings of Church
authorities in all such maiters.
La /trvuf Apifi>fliqtif {lb Aug): "The Duties and Rigfaa
ot the Apologist,'" by A. de Lapparent. The writer
5rsl pointb oui in what wiiy science atTects religion, lie
protests against the various attempts made in the name
of science to (ear away all religious belief, and with
equal force condenijis churchmen who have been too
eager in their at'acks against true science- The apolo-
gist's ^ni duly IS lo be well-inrofnied ; secondly, to
have a tolerant and judicious spiriti The rights of the
apologia dii not remiiri exclusively in Ihe defensive I'lelcL
He must occasionally aet on the oflensive, in correctiog
error, in pointing out the truth, and in making use of
science in the cause of retigionr The ^cieoce of apolo-
getics has become a necptsity, the writer mainiaini,
from the fact (hat rehgkous truth has pot shown ittell
to be susceptible of rij^orous intelUciual demonstration
Bft are the theorems of geometry or algebra ; consequent-
ly, it tB the aim of this science to point Out incentives
and oioiEves thai will lead men to a rational belief \%
God and religion.
Ia Quintaift (i6 Aug,): Imperialism, according to G. Illon"
del, 4s it appears at the present day, has two element*,
psychological and economic- The foimer appears in tlM
eager desire of all nations to extend the boundaries
their possessions ajid acquire new terntorieB- The
I
FCHeiCN PRRTOntCAlS.
IJ5
noTinc eltrmcDt whicli is becoming the more importunt
may be >ccn ir the intensity oi in<lu5trta] product ion a
and in th« neccsGity oJ finding new maikeU for theee
productions, EngUnd exhibhs most stTongly the eager-
ncw to );<iin more posseE^ion^ and io keep ih<m all un-
der control of the home government- In the va^i indut-
irial fctm^yle the United Slates Jcads. and i& so far in
^idvHncv ihat Europtf» and especially France, sbouid be
awake to ihc situation,
[I S«»pt')' Maurice B«au(ieIon makes a pJea for a more
praciicul education of Frrni^h girls. He suggests that
the duticA of mother and wife be more deeply imptc&eed
on the coming generation of girls. They shouJd be
taught how to cook healthy food, to look after the eco-
□omiG side of married tifc» to nurse the ^ick, lo give
their children proper physical and moral training, and
for thU last work, noihing urilJ be oj more use lo them
than a food course In pedagogy Henti Bremond re-
views at length A novel by the Catholic oovelistt Karon
de Hande]-M»/2erti^ The book lelatea the adventures
of a yoiing Latheran who, after many struggles and op-
poftttfons, renounce<i the faith of hie parents and enlrred
the true fold,
Apw TAitmif// (Aug.): Summarizes ircm ihe J^tVvf dn Ctergi
framais an article by Ch, Urbain on the coniessional.
The obtii^alion of secrecy was not always so rigorously
undcffiood as at present. The earliest commenlators on
the law o£ annual confession extended the divine obli-
Caiion of *ecrtcy not to every confidence givrn in the
confe»iona], but only to the avowal accompanied with
ilDCcre tepeniance and made in view of absolulion.
Nor waa it extended to crlmts projected, and not yet
committed- Sins entailing a diriment impediment and
aina of heroty did not come under ihc law of accrccy,
according to the earlier opinions; but lltde by little
thear opinions vani^hrrl. Some auihurs mnde nn excep-
tion for the crime of Usf'tn^jtrU^ and held that a priest
should denouncB a penitent guilty of it- On occaftion of
ill* Gunpowder Plot and Father Garnet'» execntion, the
Trench theologians isught thnt he sh<iurd hnve revealed
tha conspiracy without namini; the con»piraiurt; and in
l6ia the Jesuits of Paris declared themselves in c<iix-
ufi
Foji£iGN Periodicals.
(Oct
formity with the teaching of tJir Soibontie on IhU point
la 1594 Cemeni VIII, by decree *nppre«5ed the opinion
of those who held that a superior could Tfmove an ofii-
cUl from hi& post in vkw of the latter"* delinquencies
revealed Jn confession,
Rax\}n y Ft (Sept); P. ViKada publi?:hts a retrospect of the
work done by ihc review during its /<^ur years of exist-
ence and thanks its ^ubacfiber^i at home arid abroad^
especially in America. P. Murillo writes on ihe Bible
and iiys\ The problem oF the divine tnEpiraiien at the
Bible i(B the centre toward which tend, and by means of
which disappear, all contlicLs bclwtrn laiih and science.
II the Bible is an inspired book, every ane of its asset*
lions involves an affirmation of infalllbte truth, and every '
scienlilic posilton opposed to tt is false. The Bible i(,
then, not a brief sutrimary of passages stncily rclrgiows
and dogmatic, but a vast field where, in addition Co re- \
ligions truths^ there are whole sections of considerable
aite pertaining to every branch of human scierice. Twen-
ly-five years ago Catholic wriieit agreed about the ira-
ditioaal opinion on biblical inspiration and Us exieofion '
to every categorical sentence of the canonical writers.
Since then some have ailemplcd to fcitrict the extent of
the inspired Iiuth in Sai^ied Scripture. Thc&e, howeveri
can be met both with arguments and with eccksiaalical
decisions. A reviewer comments nnfavorably upon Dr.
Kunstle's discussion of the Three Witnesses passage, and
aays the discussion remains where it was Mk by Richard
Simon and Franzdin. Criticism has added nothing sub-
stantial to Simon's staUmenl3> nor answered the argu-
ments of Franfelin, and the apologists have nol itn^
proved upon the position taken by the illustrious Cardi*
nil.
Rasse£fta NasionaU {\f> Aug): Exilou, di&cus&ing the propo-
suion made by a Protestant Congress to omit from the
course of brblical inMruciion the story of the Creation,
the FaH, the Dclugen and the Tower of Kabel, showt
how by the new method of tnlerpreiation all the fact«
related in Scripture become so reasonable and instructive
that no Protestant need ever consider it nccestaiy lo
eliminate ihem frnm the programme of studies-
THE COIUMBIAN READING UNION.
PATRONS of I'he Smdy Oah, which it one form a1 »h* HciidtAf Oxek
Vcvrrtictii, hast a kititlly tviuc«ibiiin:v vi ihv vtlunblc ii-rvj^c tciiileitd
iD all vorktn |oi wlf-irnprovtmrnl by ihc STutr LtbfiLMai>, M?MT Dvwey.
TrMB Iiji t»ni« n AlbfcrtT, N. Y.. titiny beoki hive gtioc lonh iiccorillnjj lo
bJ< pl&n ol providing ihe tfjivelhng library lor special ftudi», log^ihvr wuh
r4mpM«|( raniAimrLg in^gr^ehv pTD^tsmmn cavPTing a i^tde rang^ ol fiub-
Wtta, titti [«» Itiln three liuhdied sludy dubs ivtiE ihut £ioupcd LQ|;tlhci (o
i^cELfllifn rhd mavtfmenl For um^er^ily cxErn^iDH, and (ur ibv (ir&I time nipn^
inquifirf tt^dtn began locinimifie Ihcthtnriir* piripnted hv the mgiiiloUi
naufeinent vf tbe New Vork Sui? LibrAry. In t'Oirr jjaiu ul CkC UiriieU
5iaE« ibc 5Birp plnn wq^ Adopieif, 10 that fllir^irjnAt bovv bfcn bronghi mio
fnnrr (rt^ndly rrUnon^ with thdr rtddfr^^ wbrih^r fotfawlng Hnficl ,ridivr-
Aal ratnicJi of combjiied tD^viher m sludy clubs.
Thr Hrm. Andrew S, Draprr, M-,D-. Cninmissiunerof Editcalion hi Ibi
£TAicof >"r* Vwk, diacuMcd f^ccnity the educaiioml puipoif «f Oie Amtrl-
Cin nation befuir Ibc Natianit] tdticaiiun^! AiiuCiLiljond Hl> addrrsi, now
pnotfil in pjiinphlri foriri, ahmiln be cnrrluny r-orttdrr«d on DCfftuniof bis
cAjnmmdIng poilflon »t trtiX m lor ibe iniimak isittUi o( bia arguim«nt
Wbilf ChIio^k: ciLi}*ns *tiT] accept wiih tame Tfgal iiittv^ttLcnt, id be leiiTrd
only Vy k cotirt of nn«^ mppcnl, h^n dcfUralian M " !raitinal record " ior de-
aaDi]A»;Ldn«l ichoolt. Ihry c*n Miy apprcdaTc dii de»iic id bind logcrhci '^\l
Lht martl forcct and 4II tbc iniclltttual aciivUk^ »f ibc dtCTcrrnEivci? md
pinU* ior ihe upbulldlig oi thr Ti4ii«>i' In AC^rdfncr wlib th« poJtr> »l>
E«»dFy Ap^lonrvd b^ bJt lupfrjcr orbcei) Jn Lhc GlLurQ ot KeBcnU^ 13 r, I1rip<t
vtibfi 10 tdr^nce (he inulJ^tiuaJ ivdlutc oi ihc muhtiudt^ hy grhrrout public
<ld lor hbrkriet and fludy dubi. Tfae foJlewin; <juoTjition th^w^ihc brojid
r*ni[c of bit thought :
Wr bald tlT endowed inirErut1flm«f lentnl(i}[ » pitt of the publfc «dutA.
^ODfc] ifi[«]iE of th< country. W« look upon prLvATF «nd prapiiFl*rv inttilit-
ii«Di, W mcp>ciJ by car rcct inHuenfTt ard maniigtd by proper mclbodv to bC
drvrvinf af aid and rnmmridmmn W^ give 10 ivctmntiix and it^nfiminl*
Iionit ■choolicui IraLrmaT Kgard and piofmion^i ci>>opiTTAiiDn. Wv n-
pHi* «UT rTfnl ihflt ony may think lE ntcr^ajr)' 10 drclmc ibr prmki^fi of
th< publjr leboal lyiTem and msinia^n ichaATi ar ihc>r D«n tipnit, i^n cop-
Kkntloui gr«iind>- II w« CAnnot iccrpi thcjt (Iivui^LIh we vJJ rvc^^jfiiije tin-
etrtqr vbenr*t It io convtnckng. We wiH arilculot*, h fur n we miy^ w^^h
n«ry rducjLf Lonil itciivitynlcultied 10 <iui<ken the n>i}M>'» moral tent« or
Bpljri ibv n4tK>n^toullTCiual hlv-
It la the oi-erwhflminK, and wf lirlirvr the ■ettird, Amerifin opinifm tbnt
neilbn tl>e Irdcm) power nor ihjtt ol 'iij' irnic cHti tiLniAtn a bu^ineit relation
wtdt. Of five iipantlal aid IE», or divide it» letponaibiiity vjlb, any claat or Ift*
1#tm set eommoB la evtry <^lTinn and every treiiAn ■ buf that a1lot6i 00
Croood lor irriutton bei*fcn any cIik dj* secttonif InirTftt* on ihe oitt *idf ,
and iity phase of ihc tTat* or frdera] pourr <'n ihe ollitrr fndeeiJ. i1 ih*
aiair caAnol tivcHi money to capcnutve work which rnina into ibo build inf
t)8
The COLUMBIAf! REAOISG U.VIOJV.
[Oct.,
o( llie nniion, iX miy well nive lu Ihiil work Jhe fuHc*! ncBiure oF tnornl Ot-
couri^rnieni wbLcb iijqj' br wckuine, tn a vurilfHrcin ^e kpeciftl «idlo
none «« AjairK «noThcr. bui we w\\\ go to tb« vcrjECDf ftir>dinienti1 anil
coriiEjiulionA] principl?i. wiiJ] 0lt 1oJcr«(toh o1 bpmmn* and ^11 uye hci^rtv^^
n«s, IV tjjnrf infit'ilicr jJL <ti ihf monl lomi and flII of thr inifilcciUfll atiivi'
lifi of iill sects snd p>rtif» lor ihr further upbttildinj; cHhe nitlJoa-
Wc reco^nrjc ihc pubhc olih^iiJDtit \o jSord inlcEinntioii, to nrcndcul-
tufei ftiul CO Aid scU-L(nproveiDeiiiout»Fd« of ih«*cbMiU» Thtrr Hm beta no
oi^rf ridlant \igt\ of rnriutpg^mtrii In our hiii«rv. nonri Indrtd, In tnjr hL>*
tofy. ihao Lhv mtnifrtt n-E?rnf&&o( rlic <-idutt niaitci loi hiiowkt^Gc^ We
hold iliai iQund paUcy tvilL [jvt' Id libi;)iL('?> nhd ^Ludy (lubs ondall i^c r^ftfiT
for iludy t^x bocnc. %n unilfntcd mcjiiun ivf gcixtouK public aid nnd cnccur'
■licmrnt. Whitcvei iddi lo ihc rcBl «iih|{birjmicj]V of Itic muhiljdc, iddt
to Eht bappintii}. tbc lEitn^lh* and the iccuriiy oi » republic which r«»t> upon
(he fomTTion intclhscncr and ft]U4liiy ef ri^hii Tor all.
The ordinaTT mdcrM i nvwipipor uMom rtAHEC* ihe duty of wrtElac
to tbe «d^tor of hii IrvotLtc ihtct» etpecLAHy "hen [here ■» rttion eo thi^k
lliat Double CitboUc eveni* liAve bc^n ili^jbLf J 01 «nljrvly i|t<i*>i*d- Soa>«
tdiion ol N«w Vcrk City have shown a dlipoiliion to »clcocnt cmlotmiol
Cttbolic fchoolt, tven whtn anonymooi, but never invite a rornpcimt *r«Di«r
to furnith a rdtiKblu no*! bi^ncJ «iuumtftkl urt a i^ueblicn rrquit^ng corrri:! iti'
forniJiEiAn trjth kOEiic knowledge ai canttiiuEicn^l iIkIilv Lc«t!in|: membrri
of Catholic lOCietLe* afc c* peeled to lake a ibare d( reipofittbihi) tn ihi» im<
poruni inaiLer bjr dviuindlfiic a Uir iJiMUi&lori ol iheu <oiivictioi>». The
advice £lveti bi Arrhbithoin Parley 10 a cIim oI colkKc )[radiiBw»]aii Jvnc
ihoiild be lemembtirrtE for injiny day^ 10 (oqi«. Mii woidi ivere :
My prCktnc* hdrir lEiipliti, I behevr, ihe duiy ut iuyiEi|> ■ few worda lo
you, and I iveIJ take r^ur ditcounet am tc^L
The bill ipeaker, whcne luljeet wa» '-The LileiCLltiic of Fact/' Ihe
preu, vciy propcrjy reminded you and mt Ibai we tut pflnly* m\ Icaai, it>
bpontibte for 1 be ebaracier of Tbe newtpiper. Wf t\e told that the nr^f*
'papeia refleti m a j{f*" mrfiure tbe Jl^ei v^e live. I am luie ihai ii wt O'l^t
1( pUm (bai v« did POt rrlisb otrnitt kint^i of taaiicr, and thai ii waacfl«ii>
aiv« 10 ua^ the papera wnuld not prinE it, Thera la a duty upon you to cor-
ml Ihit crvTiig cvd- Tbe pje»a oi Ntw Yatk Cily la t'U|jicd tlirvug^out tbe
larid to tbe Uitm^ dl!i£f ace ul tfab kind of Ulerilure^
I BU|ri|cat thai you lake a tiaad AKairLit all ibat you think Uoffentive,
that you let ibe tditori kno« ibaE ynv do not uam iK. ind Ibey <rill noi pr^i
ll. llOh c<in you Tel fh<!m know t In fvetr parlih of tbia dly ih«re are
vxidcifa, each wiiJi hundred! o( oi^ntben, Ifo* eatyiE would be for tho
pmuJiinL nr tacnuiy of auch toatruirt to mfoini ibeac ediWii ihal (bey wUl
liave none of it- II no aiieniion [■ pHid to luch proieai. then drop r>ie»V
■criptioni- Thiftsr yean aiio a paper alUCked the Cb«ifCh> knd vtihla ft
■hurt time lo»l to»,oao aubiciibcrs- Krojn EhAl Untc uniiJ no* thai
haa trea[«d the Cburcb fairly. Vou miLti proifci ibe mnTata el yoor^
^ud family hj retua'n^ lupport to tucb papeva aa offerd our moralL
Youncmeiif perwofe in alt thnt m ^ood and honorable and doB^
<90Sl
The COLUMBiAN nRADJSG UNJOIK.
^v
rlcipcrra of <ho>c who m^ thit ChHilinn rdvcili&n hui no pljhcf in llie Hff
4f 4e vorld io-4«x- ^~c I Ay to Ihcm : *' Whjil doiK ii pio&c a hiah if ha
|ia Ui« vliolc »0fJ"i *fi<l loit liib own lool ?" You lifrtt Ivwricil of ihc ob-
T<lJoni WouK>^l 4fjiinil ihr Church, bul her poi^tluo on iTic qucirloii of «du>
EiUon Jt n^ tttfip^ ukrn up by iliotf wlio (ricii lo cruih bci. Noh' Catholic
:ollff|vt Ein makmf x\ lo it.ny ;« rnndirlcin of niBiHcuhiilnn ih*t aiiidrnif
lAsuld hiivc ■ IcnavrlcrlKc of the Ten CocnmnnilTncnit and af ccrrain booW «f
ihcSibZc. Tim i» due it> lUe v;][oi y{ llic CmhuUc Cbumh,
Avioihcr -JjUFsUoii (rcnred rn unf of <ruur dfttDur^c* wot The lAcrcdnoi ef
ilKtaaTfiige x\t Ouuitltii 4it ifilfciJD^ ic-Ciy* noi, ul i;«u^ae, m EulJr u
•tCiiboIio nalue it, ibKi divotcc L» coriwpitnf ibe c««auT. A tiODtlnu*
its of ikit pinl tnuit 4u»ty Imd io iht dewnfaH fkf ih« «hn1( ftfchr of io<
6fff. Out PfHJdeni, of ifhrnn wc have «■ rjght ro be proudi who hold* in bii
kind> the tiu*l impi»vd \\\ lum by the yi)t^ao,(KW pruplc of ths l.'oitcid
^wtSy h*i C^Ric ouE iironj^ly a|t*if^>^ divorce, and ifet^lDrct Ihc iiwliil rondi-
IWQ frf Mci«ljr In lM> rt£df d' 1 «II1 ijo fuL Ihcc and My Ibat no l*i«»ldffm bu
tvHbfld iitch « beneficial tfTect on ^AoiLly hfe u Prtiidrni KDoievcti, Sot
«ly dftt» tbf rreiidfnt picirh of tiic ^acrrdnf** of ihe mafrl^E* iie, hut b*
(iwp]iri» i\ LA hit Qnvn liJt, , nij hit own frirmly tiaddn an -in Vii^iniplt of
tbube Uiink» Andkiyi on Ihik hvbfrci- NcpE only hah (he ?rtikLd«nt agiiAtrd
>i:ilnti Ibe divorce evil, but tbc C*biACl ha» laWcn tbv t^ucation up- ^VbeI^
lie XitkAk of our (JovcrnnicriE Ukc up 4 piuLli^m of iljii gruve nuLur?. Lheip
uobfno need (or tbr people doobLinj; ihat (bt <|urii]on muti br f^cvcly
ooiutdtrtd, VLd wff foci thai much ffood wilJ M donf Ii iflori » propdy
diTtclrd.
GwjAfMViv //' l7rr'r/ i* ih« Uitit iti ibt ll^roci ol the NAiiotn iffiM,
'fubluhtd by (f. p. Pulnafn'i ^ani, [hiT ibuLy-TiLiiih trf Lb* uqrld** ^rcaE mtn,
i^tCTttlJy dittertcil by quite medlDcre wHtcri. FjcepT <hc Chwiti^krr
OAimSfii, by Wublngton lrviii|>H Iherc ii n*jc one Of ihc »ciit» 10 far ib&l 1»
tioi open iv *f M<ni> crLlklim- The ^im in ihl* Kiiei ireini lo bave been 10
Uv* f4fh iiib}e« Ireasfld by some writer not an eniUmlint and not hiteiy 10
be ion paiii*l, Tfav it«uh 19 nobody *ill br fnthititd by i^ny ol Ihtm. n&r
vcepc ihtfin ja tund^rdt' This Ci>f^^fJi*riH4 tf> pnlpdbly vrriiien fay a I'roTC!,!-
^All tor Wotrtrant*- Indrcd. in ibe preface be nflr**Iy l<\\% tis he lecoid* the
^Iki* of ibv Council ui Nite 4-Lid Uic AriJii CoiiuuvvEky " u I have Ken
ibfin." dad then teJIs he *eni for h la view to Canon Utigbl'i *^^* ^ M^
, AJtrrr hjtd to CroivrvKir'* Ci-ntfaNtiitoplt iin<L the French worki of Al)4Td,
ilflinitr, Md l^amr. Tbcrv^.'c nol many leftoui intitUteHienti of Mcii> but
Ibt pioremi a^fi'iKc iHr Chureh (Tahich pinirLr i* ihr «niit nf PrnEr>,timu«m} i«
ibere in rv*ry ehapter, and (ivc» a gtKid tuorp tpnn m lie cloinng para-
p*pb« mben Mr. Firtb, of Oaford. couUy tjllth ai Ihe Cburdra jnl^iit^iiilui lo
iCAiiOA Ahd MberiT* and slier a niedley of ■Mfk" and "buit," that i« ihe
iff of Mntcrt *bo hedge inil br^jle wiib ttie iruib, bt endi with ihti bum
appl4»e lor the oLd ipmi ol rebfJIlon 10 Lhf [rvih Lhal b« had pietuicd a«
Lreatinfitw CbLireb all ihionfh iho age*:
Tbe old Bpiril vsi doc uhotly itead- One may mb it icvi^e fiom lime l»
In the nrtona beret iea which aplit I he Cbuicb- But it wu »!»»)» lulh'
Icsly *i"pprcs«d atid hum.-inity h.id tn piiri:ha» bark its libflt-ty o! thouj^hi
■1 A gr^al price, ten or marc i:eii!uiic4 ]mi, when ihc wofid iriilicrd ih*r her
■Eiiitnl ilcliPcrpT hid beraelf become 4 Ij^rinU Nr^'erlheless, ric.
J| Fnfietuni renders like that kind of lo'lc or TitsEory I hey are welcome
10 il- Jt blowg boE and cold and puK the rebcUion of Luiber m lu proper
place wKl] othei hervsies and iabt]lian&4
Amonji; Catholic itstdett ibe l*L< Coventjy PaiiDote ni*y d«iv bfcom<
bciLPT known in i.h« Dniti'd Sijt^^ thinu^h llie nev volume by (Idmiihd
Cs(sc— 'pnec one dollar— published byCharlr* fidiibnet'* Soni, A&anri-
ponenl of CjttUdlic ihougbl and tenLimvrt h<^ ban a dialjnct claim on hit
GOrrlJglAnitU, The rDllDwini; apprecljiipr of hit life and wo'k U Uken from
the Xew York Evttiinx Post.
Qtrttit-Xf Pjimafe wai bc*o in iBJj, at Wood.l*ird. in Eitei, Ptn
f;uh«r. i-oiBr paimore, hitineU i man of leiien, bad gained >n unpteasan*
notcvnvly ai te<c>nd in b duel between John Scatl. the edJiar. and Locbbart's
fiieod. Chriiiie. These duels o( Iile^iv nien wcie getiejally bloodiest — *itb
Moore on l*o DccJltions cUcy rmlctl in a wnrm frirpdahip, bi^ nppontnl hieing
ijntble lo w^ihiiarrd rVie poei^t UtcknAii^on^ di iirch ahorr rin^e; but ib<^ elder
f*aItnore» 111 a inumecjt of tjnaccouniat^k bloodihirsdreiCk intibied iliat bis
prlndpnl ihoiilfl inake no tonc^s^lom^ wliS rhe rr^uli ttaiki Seoti nai marlalljr
wounded, Prter PAlmorc wjib diopped by h[< Jilcrnry fiiendi, 4nd the blot on
hifc fxllier'ih ntime, and ibc isoLiMDn v\ hts Uinily, had n dcmdeiJ efiecl of; ibe
youlh of the poer.
For biieirly life Mr. Oot^e had to depend on ihc poet"* reminiiMncei.
Wow, faLmorc'i memory *aa ol the imflfiiiiniivc i; pe, «Mh whicb wc aie
•11 fAmihnf, ■* WU memory ampFirled qtiAniiUfS before ihcy eou^ reich hJ4
lipa in wordt/' iay& Mi. Gn^ip, He wa^^ in fac|» EUb^ccE Id mr||:aleinADia.
Wbfu It. muliire perTioh oi Ehia dbpoiiliDn \A\i us tbiil hi- wiia iin ugna&tit: un-
LiL the fl|fe of elcvm, nnd at ninr wa* '* Love'* willing P"FC." *e know Ihnt
bU Upa^jnaClon lia> £ot ihe belter of bia mi'mory^ Gut Covenliy Pjitinore
must hpive been a ilriin^e, precoduu^ 3elf-i:en1red child, spoiled by his
laihpT^ »bo Iron* thf dr*! ir^ted liim as o budding geniufl, snubbed by his
niolbet, ■ KVEie ScDichwaman. who rcaemed this claim^ and to the lul re-
fused to look St her son'? poern^, Thi* ii how Peter Patmore describe* bis
•on at Lweotv -
Seel hia liihe. ffaRile !urm is bending ti^cr a book that is spirad cpcu
on bli kdee», his bend drooping loivni-ds ii like a prucVed flower, Tbe palf
Ucc 1« icstinK pn tbe cUiped hand, over wbkb, and all round th«»nk*llt nc-
QuEsiTfly inndellec] bead, falL hravy wave^ of auburn hajr, conce;ktLn^ nil bul
ont pak cherk — pale and coM as niarblc. bur smcorh and sofT aa a girl's.
On reading thM, one is mclmed to sy^P^'hijo wuh Coventry'a motheT,
■nd to lori:ive (be moiG normal HriEl&h parent's pioEoupd distrust of the Attt^
tie temperameMk
Patmoie wat ipAved the uoiveisily, and, ati« a desultory educHion aad
1 reitdence in France, setiled down in l^nndnn to ihF (iterary lifrn His bm
volumr of poemt (i^'14) (how* the mllufnce of Tenvyion in luch a atinia %%
thin Irom Tamtrtett Ckurxh Ttwtr :
J9>3»] The Coj:(/^s/a.v R^Ai^/yo l/ivw/f. 141
'£re iiiinmcr's i>timc that ym iltt wdbp
Lay jjoTg^d wichin tht p«cli t
The lidr. :ii though iht sra Aid gMp,
FelJ Uk u|jDn the bcicli;
?iiiDDr« hatJ TntJi^Ji iti common. Mi. Gos«v quo;f-& fiom an unpublhhvd Ivl-
te of Rtawnmi;: ** A very mrcf eating y<iunj poel has bluihfd inta hlarrm
thi> Kuon-" Pdtmorc'f welcome t4tnf ^hi?li>' rrotn poeli; ibc trilica de-
(e^Md ttie iartueacc of Kentt unci waultl havf nanc al him. About IhU Itme
W'lhff withdrew lo (h« CoMlntn(» and Covcniry wis lold IbnE he muii for
Elif ^m lime tiij>p«rc MmielE. Ttr\f3yitjn wa Jut inijnidie fnriiii^ and ihe^
BwSu wiiiitci ihrnu^h l.ondon logcihfr, Kainiorc (ollcwing the cldcf poti
~ltlea dfl(" HI he wauld aay of bimttlf <»iih scaro in ihe laitr Tcart cf iheir
Vriiiautment- lie wab in a fail Hay to fUirvc when Munckcoh T\4ilpfs le-
cvrrd htoi (he poii of atiialiinl jn ifav Library af ihc Brtlilh Muiuenti
^'ii^Q. in ]|rk4, hii if^ond TiMirta^c v»Hh ■ »o[i>An of foELune caabJcd him (c
kti« ibt MuiucEiii he wat. nt an obituary note c^ple&BCiJ Hi "In dlalt way
tobvomt Korpff nf ihp Prinicif Hflok^."
Id 1A47 lie ibuiried 4 kvomaci who wat almoii worihippt^ (or her br>uiy
ii^ibeOrde ol yvun^ pi?-Kjphae[ivc« with whom hcf hukbniK^ w;^k inciiiutr.
W«oJncr m&de a mednllion oi Fpnlly ParmoH^i headi Milliii In iSp [tainted
Ixr poiiiaLi , and i^nally FfEowriitifc iininoiidli^ed hei beauty la a lamom
pecb- li wa> admtited thai wbvn ihv l^uj^bed her (hoim iv^s tctlpied, and
ttefui h:id nnr ruap4<fl FLrowning-
If one could have ibac J idle h«d of beta
Painted upan ;i backijiound erf pole i^old
Such ai the Tujc<in'( eojTy nrt prc^rtt.
No vbadi* an«ma<htAc on i^« Diauble^ nioufft
Of those iwD lipti which iheuld he oprnins *orE
In ihr purr profile; nol '1 when »he lauj^b*.
For that tpcilt hII , - .
JfV'Dndei thai whtn he had won ihis beaiiUTuJ wife, r^lmore btmself dt-
ttrftdn^ iatnvflpfivf a porm $ti hrr honor, 7 A' ^"^^f^ "i M/ ileuit, Mran-
■tille hr hfld coEitrihiLifd komff poema la the pre'KApbArhEe critati, the Ctrm.
and bad published a lecwnd voTumo c^litrd 7'ar/iif/vn C'Aiftti Tt^-tr {iS^j)'
Al ihu lime Tei^nytAfi, <b< Brown^njtip and Mriiibtw AinolJ had pfodu<^«d
Af ve^e vioduiiiiK ibcif beat worV ^atinoie bad dreameil Evr yean of A
gioiE ptieM conitiiraied 'o marnj^e bvlfifi, m iKj4. he published th* l^nt
partaf 7At Arngt* tn Tkt /t*'uif- ll W4« like him tci »y it ihr trnrT rbal b«
■■cut le make il "bi([gei th^n the Dii'ina Cfunn/iii.t." Icoryton, in an
Bsptjbliihed IcTlvr to Aubtry Uf VeTe, >Aid Ulut, " ^hiii liuikhrd> it will add
one B-^re to ilie imall llii of Cr^ai Pof mi.^' I1 ii at try f«ie toft to tay ibaT
lt« Jonf L^n|[lLtb poemfl have bec-o 10 «j|jeily lead bj the crt>wd. When in
1O7 li wvt Jiwffd ai Ihrnponctj a mtrilon i^pLOii vrcrr (juickly lold^ imd 11 ib
•mi tqfreat dnnand- It bai nevr hid an^ tiich vagne in the LTnJted iiijitet,
wbtK (he apDCbfloiit o( Ihe boiiie Jtid of womao in her iioreLy domelllc tt-
pctfi Ia4ii9 Mcure ibc iiutani r»pcnac thjiE li meeU from t*tty CniHibirraii.
H«r* h * nml trtrimiiiDnnl iJiRrirncir. Pbi iL tloTvn if you will lo tlic unCail-
Ifijt Bfitiih jippeihc ft>t iln: ^cnlinipniiil, ilic ajipcLiTe ihai iiaE k-d Ijy Tttirty-
Min"» '■ Miy-'Jutcn "jind ■' UufM" miJ « jitfoU deal uS WordjwOfU*. Ai un*
r*lc n^ ,inf:ti in the Home t^oulil bavc bcvn wiUECQ only tiy an HnglUh poci \
And, mnt'jtiJ mtttan^ii. surh ;i po«ni u^ouM hiiv« ■ fair i?)>flnM 6f a. limilflr nc-
Ccit lodfcy. Tbe irotJcrn po*r. would ftoT IranUly X^W ihr »toi». a* I'aiinorc
dnn: br vculd rcTnpow ? ^ortncr Pn^rjuf nr*', hut ihr Bngliih idrti Huf ndl
chipfcd. trtd wr riouhc it lL cvrr will,
Tifr Am£€i in tht Houu \\ ii narrjiLivc pocni q( cniddlc-VivEofJiin niJii]'
iwrv Tbr hera i> JuiE >u<b a youi»g man nt Trotlupr dcli^hfrd to dc^cribr.
ftnd bit love itory tcfdi ttk? a lew clMpT^ri of Trcllopo put inia vr nc Tbr
MCtln^of lh« courlthip» ibr i:Joil>fi o( ilip young pe<>p]F» tl>e fL>od Lhey -^lr>
|>iff (rtiot |h*y fnnk, ihr p.-irliri «bey ii.'tx'f , ibp cbnirs tTiey wl or— Pfllmorr
LtlB you havfi il ill. Hm geiier^lion wckomvd lb<i( aort dE ver», ind Tiked
Pjimorr'^ Unva on the fuEnilurc ul ihr dt^nrry, Ilie
Dim rich lubtre oE old oik
And ctimiuii velvet'* i^lewing gl«Hn,
Ml U liked Ttntkyion':
She left ihe ncird half uncui
Vp«n tbv rOAVWDod ihctlj
Sh« ]«rt lb* nw pi.nno thm,
She could not plcpif hcrielf.
^
Oi tbJBi by ■nothvr populir |i«t o£ the djiy :
Liidy Anne DEwbui»l nn ■ criintDii coii4jh
Lay. Willi 1 lint Of iflble n'pf ber kneei,
In a buijbt baudoii in UtljiiavUH
There wefc lewcf novels in ihoie daysi npd poetry musi lerve boib !i« ovn
purpDi« and th« pufpout of lictloi^. This Hri M por'ry hai been labelled
by Mr. iStedmat), in tijj fV/r'^rdN Atfl/ii'*irg^ ibe *'Coirpo»i[e Id^lliCi" and
ihiti II perhaps » nrnr ai ithc can |^i to .1 lUTinitinn- Il woiild be Litifalr
t^ ^ilmo'O 10 dndl on ihc ElAimg fnultt of Utte, ih« l^ich of humor, thai
niar hiK longeal wotk- ThAi thcfe 4ie in it luutbe» of Keuoinfi pocLry,
moment! in which ih^ poei rl^iri above the bourgeois cumfoiH of Ihr dv«.a>
er^H 00 rctider of ihe ptiem t-~an deny. Oil^le callrd one kcdoq oI it, '* The
Kapouiali." A '^bedJtifiil litile pictc< hi^h, in]iemoUb» line, msnai^ed wiih
g-rfAi ati, t/irijr, and \nef-^^," whilr 1 indor wrote: "^twr wat nnyihing
more lender/' Yet tbir true hdmirrr rjf I'jilmoi'e liaies hia idmiratEon on th?
Uier purmk iu the volmike L-^Ded T^f l/miftewn £rot. publiihed in 1^77.
The Etoi whom be bad eelebrAfed iit TAt Angel in Mf tisHst wai eerfainly
not " unknown.*' In the later volume Lht myiUcL»[n that wai »o ^tr^ng ar
•ItmeiiL in hn Irmperameni Li sivpn lull pjayn
He had enured thf Tiomiin Catholic rommnnion in 1G64, aEtfr (he death
ol hit tint wife, ind reniamcd f oi the >«■( of hit long life m Ihe cloi»i ayrn-
pAlhy vith the dontrinet of tbc CathoUi: Church, Hia second marriage, vriih
ft Caibollc lady of contiderable forttine, tianiformed bim inio a Unded pfO'
priciof, nnd he proved by h;a A^tmirpble ]kiaan;;cnteni of the e4t4lc in Suaatv
'l^os-l
The Columbian reading Union.
T43
i^t« p4Ele*B be Jin mcpJIpnl m^H of btisint-M. Patmgre made his «taie
juj, And. V fftr yeiri nfrer iiiv purchfLK^ 4DJd ir lE a proFii — a rAf« ftcbitvf.
iii»l lor An Kngltib LAj>iled pioprieLof' IJc a|Knt htk ld£t ^em at Httiin^r,
•hf:* h« bukli A Caibo^c chapel^ and ai Ljmingion m Hamp^bfrv, n btrr he
died Efi ifl^tf. m hii trvfniy^launb jrsr. 1Ji« poiir.iJ\ {Ainiid by Si^rgfnL in
1^4. ]» tiDV in [h4 NatiD{>4E forlrail GAlt?iy in Londan. ^'aEiudie sal (o
SAii^ni for (tie |>rophcl K/ckid in the dccoraHons oT Ebe Bifiinn l-ibriiry and
bTAfeoond portr«ll. »o tbjE (here It no danffer lh«i bit >iraTit;e. ^ittpired
Itid aof! itienuAicd ftjtuie. w[ib wbai Mfi Coi»e calls '* it> aipect ol i »ll(t
(mctf in ihr uiTdftiie«/* wLll br lorgaiifn. 1h ihr 0%J->rtt Unnk 6/ jCitjrlixh
fmiifthr«of lb* b«« ot Paimorc's tboii pc*iti*— *'7he T«n/*"li I
Wrn Dead," ibd " Dcpdnurc." Hut ii vt wbnlrd tn convert tbe icrplic to
Eb? adm luSon Ihal Paimore is not to be judged by Jiia ApoihFD»i9eE"}iDricii-
iVe domeilkliy," "riLoiild a»k bim lo read fim the «de " Amlei"
Mr. <joi»r tt^t rbe inOmjie fitend of Faimcpje, <ind> as inllmait incnds
fH ihm duty dcnitndi> he bni dnwn ih* poei'» pantan wi»b an iin*1fti[friti(
fn. but. vbtle he dceh doI ipiie ibe loiblvf andVccenirKiliri oi laywout
be *ribrt vUh a irtnuiiiir apprfciatjon nf hh mtith mi?iiind(fraiD(i«l ^foiiie;
lid ibouch he »■« e<ic liitic iiboEil r'Atmorc'i ;»roM »»y>. which ha^c linjii-
Lkr rncult of ftlylr, bia vUriitiivc lUUe vulunic, wilh iU e^fcJEcnt illukirdUDD:*,
OB tf reeommtndcd io all to whom the more exhamllvc Life hy Mt.
CbirDpnryt ii aoc a<ceHibte>
* • •
Tbr bmldinc authOTi nbo is anvlOkii tc brio*r ubiit h? shoitM do ultb bis
nunuiciLpl whtt\ bf h>i it fom[ikrrd tnd 14 eijiecling \t eo be accrpTfdp will
■fprniaie Mr. Charlei WeLth's ]iU\e pjini'l.Jri* I'fH>*Airt^ a ^cvk, Bo«t<^n -
iJ- C. tjrAlb & C«. Thli jivcs sumc ^lircwd hinls or the prcparaiion of
ftWBKrtpt. on the correcUDn 0! pr»ofi. ^nd Cfn Ibe an^ngcniejil} ihat mAy
k ftinJf wiih tbe piibUthtc Theic it a £loi*afy ol icrmi und in priniipi;
iQin. and ehrtf arc ifime vin< nnici ^n ihr r|ue5tLor^ nf piLnciuiiiinn, The
MfBpblet La ama)] enctui^h to %o ''■aiTy iiLit^ an aiiihoi'i pQtLei, Ji will do
^-n bo hdim t« lake lE with him when hi: )[oc^ un a JDurncy, c«pei:ia]ly if the
iciTJieT ta io end ai a ptibtiiher'i doar,
Hf. E- L- Shuniiii IrAi wiiEt^r^ a book entilkd /-'r^itmif JpHTKaium,
^Kciml joumahftt iir* utu^illy waiy ol anyLhmjf Ln l>ook roim or school form
i^u prapiHf 4 lA cearh ibv acioaluiti of the buaine»<- Mr, ShLiman'i w^rh tt
DQF k*rc 19 ■uipriic ihc luipiciom piActic^l joiicnAliiiit. 1 1 ii one ol Ihe few
^4 i» trorlb rcadin^'-
tt b vrltt«n by one who fertalnly hji« teen nku^h, hni tindFuiood, bnK
MfUll, «tAMtfted, and frc<ci] ii aki ha» wrjtLcri a bo^ik iliai cannul Caj] 10 be
oJ n^C t« aJ] «bi> want 10 And out uhai rievipDper work of th«<lar aeLuaily
ha«d vkAt ii rvquirvt in chair who would 'ollow ii at a vocaiionn
Thejueunif nam who bat ,in icfea ol cnifiin^ ilie hutinrat couTd da no
^iHi ihAB Te'd Mr- Sbuman'h buok En find i^m what hak been almnm I'mpo^-
i«]jle to leain e»«pi: b^ iciualJy ^elEinu inio ihc hameii- It wcuM be ei-
ttlltai rtftdiitg in a wdJ-^irrelea Khool of JournaUim, and nine'EenthtoMbc
>r*tp4per men, ^^prrMlIy counrry edlEOTi, stiould iSnd ti of £rcai practical
*aTtk. The book ti pubLiahrd by i>^ Appkion \ Coi
M. C. «.
I
HOOKS kliCElVI-]).
JMtty'*Siffrnvi^rt,. B^ Otiva Thi>rbfl VUIIae, Willi lUuiLradoiia hy Kihcl N, Fuh«-
'fill M.iCMilJ-*-' COtTMP¥. Ktw VfM-hl
A'^vdB S^'tf' /fvyn Xfifiv S/aiH/ H^air/iiu. Df HiinuBl Ulll. M,A-
i^HA^ iyiii X*Lt/i*m$ *
CHIlnTtAN PH>.Vt Annuel A-niiH I'U « I- 1 ^kl I '"J ^^<J1IM>V, \t«- VOfi;
PtK'c Cc L7«ii» nc.
li>1i9Jull0a(i>A^lt. fearer;
THIf Ihtkif IitiaiifJ iStt-'Af't li> W.ft. AiuMnvliHiyCK,
MfC'Vitw PiifiMiiiriVii Com.*'**'. S?* VorV-
1-41. P)>f* Jfil |n L>P(
Anuvl cJuMttt^H Pii«», buHWn, Mai*.:
Of»/#. *r,Xf.'rui fllnitraa-.^- »/t^i AptU/a'^Cwtti. By Mwry Lop* FofU' Pf^ Bj-
B, E|>;4i^iLt. ^i. l>.ifiii- v» ,
CttlttHrin *fii t'^t™ in twfim^. Bj'ILiiv.Mh O'ftbiiiJui. Pb^C X>.I>„ D,C.U Pp,
^wr ^utOtM^Hvm^ Kt>hq]Li<t»r Wt^nlMr Tdr ditf Jiihr I9»d,
f-sMiur Pi S0M. ^^^nmpAtr<nl. Tkt Afmt^jier. fp-w^
ITpiTVlVkitV I'll**, \rri<« T3"n*'. Iiiil.
ru /W/i(^ ^/^#Jfi JTh-rr, Bf Lite S«<-. Jotrn C4»i^*E^. C^C P|i. vj. PA[i?r.
^«f ^#*r Py >hi- «iir1inr tA J<> ^aw ^tti My tf«/tiv, Wk^ l>*rir' \n "kt. Hn Hit*
litpfp llAiil«4i Py, U.-il:i
LiDiLtian cr P imilBtl.ri'i, I'nm, ^mft''
^vKKTPJj f't^t^m^na Jii^uMjitem- fa t.'tYin J^ffitrr^tinm. flniluHi S<IUD Mute dt
THE
CATHOLIC WORLD,
Vol LXXXrL
NOVEMBER, 1905.
NO. 4S8.
PROFESSOK KIRV'S LIFI: OP ST, PATRICK
Sir JAMVL^S- ^^^- "Ji-
1.
Dablm Cjisit^ is the symbol of English domina-
tion in Ireland, Trinhj' College, the ciudel of
ProtcElant asccndcTkcy, XUc hcfxtHciaty of Ihou-
sanrts of Hf rcB of the Un<is wrctT^d from thr an-
cient Caitiolic owners, and the most extensive
reeipierti oJ titbr&wruni; from iht- peasantry to support a creed
«4sdi they dete*l«d. U the grande-ii monument that exists to
typify and perpetuate the memory of the ruthless spoliation
vbich the Irish Church sutTcred in days happily no mor«. So
tttari>ugh w«£ ihe policy ot the plunderers that the Irish Cniho-
tici verc 4tJcwe<l to retain littte of their Inheriunce except St-
hiriek bimieK.
One day a worthy Fellow of Trinity, Dr. Todd, ar iT ^Irtick
^7 tftc idea tliai it were a pity to leave the record of Triuiiy
inciaaiplcte, retoWed to rob the Irish Tapials oi their »olc po«*
tllion, tto he wrote a karned life of the saint: prr>vitig m
wLonKtadon thai the Apoitle of Ireland never waa a Roman
CiTholic, but a true-blufl I'roiefttant, born, like Sl Paul, a little
nr T^B SfATB or Havi Vob.k
TOC l,3UCXIt-— '10
14^ £t//cy's UrE OF St. PAnticK. {^o\-.,
out of due time. The learned world polileT)' supprc&std a smile,
and gravdy thanked the doclor, The CathoJics laughed out-
right, Nobody took Dr Todd"a mare's'jic&t fterioualy. Well,
it would be he more correct lo say^ hardly anybody. Occa-
siofially some Anglican divine, desirous o( liiidii^^, by hook
or by crook, a nan-Komm source for British Chrjgtianily. made
much of Dr. Todd'a view. And, now and agakn, \\ has been
exploited from tioiijc American piilptls, for Ihc gloiifjcation cr
Goneolation of that mo»i hyphenaicd body of our citizenE, che
" American-Scotch-Irifih," on the Sunday preceding, or fdllow-
ingf the seventeenth of March,
Now ftiiuther and a tnorE dlsiinguUhed son of Trinity has,
with a graceful apology for the mUralte of hie reverend prede-
cessor, feiurned St Valrick to the PapisTs, If one could^ by
any sirerch o( the imaginalJon, associate Trinity with the Jdea
oF shamefaced sorrow, we mi(^hc fancy her making the aci of
rrstilotion in a spirit of tardy repcntcncc- It would, however,
bt more consizitent with hcr character, though not with the
honorable fashion in which her present representative has ful-
Jilled his task, !f ehe returned the atoEen properly only because
she found thatt to u^e a stock phrase of the enquirer after nii»-
ing goods, it is absolutely valueless to anybody but the right-
ful owncr-
When Catholic readers begin to perceive how UAreseivcdly^
Professor Bury has satisfied the claims of justice, they almost feel
that they are implicitly bound by the condition U£ual in «uch
transactions'—no questions asked — tu ah^rain from all queivilous
criticism. A few reservations, however, must be premised be-
fore wc can proceed to testify to the high excellence of the
work which the briLJianI Cambridge proiessor has pcoduced.
In the first place, the biography is not fl saint's life In the
usual sense of the term. It doc^ not pretend to be one- It is
an account and an appreciation of the man and his work as they
fall within the range of the purely secular historian, who con-
cerns himself, not with the supernatural, but with the natural,
with the kingdoms of this worlds rjithcr thnn with the kingdom
of God. Professor hwfy'9 outlook is that of one unconsdtjus of
anything that implies the exiatencc of the eternal. Evidently
a work which represents that point of view must be este^m^d
essentially inoompltftc wht:n the subject rs a great apostle whotc
labors or character cannot be viewed in their proper mediutu
be
1905] tiuRY's Life of St. PATRfCK. 147
viiea the supernatural Uvxcludrd as an unncc^sEa^ry hypotberip.
"fiut/' \x mifthc be objecteii, "cannot we itudy ihc coui&e of
ivenTBh th« dome» oi the man. the means that he employed,
hit iucc«» or hif failure, the permmenl re&ulls of his Iilc. his
ithicaF character^ ju5t a? ihey appear to the carnal inan in the
e4tegan«fof lime and »pacel'' PcrtiapE. But our present con-
urn ;6 uui with whiit miii^ht br clane> but ^ith uhat rhe pie^-
fni writer has done. Certainly Frofcs^or Hury has conscien-
Uouily striven to produce an absolutely imparital, obj^ctivr, biog-
raphy with th« ttbove scope^ In his Frtface, afler rciuaiking
ititti Teddys work ii vttiated because '^ he approached a hii^ioii-
ctl problem with a di^cinct preference for one Golution rather
thin Another, and this preference w».% due to an iniere«t lotaUy
irrtievHRt 10 mere histnrical lflIt^^," Pfofessor HuTy obstrve^thm
th« business of a hUiarian 15 10 ascertain facif. "There is,"
he coniinUGH, " Saiaelhin^ essentlaliy ab&uiJ in his wbhiii^ that
any alkged F^ei should turn cut to be true or should turn out
10 be false. So far as he entertains a wish of this kind his
tUitudv U HOC critical" To thie profession, i^hich cntiucialcfi
lti« gaiding principle of the modem scholar* Mr Bury hds not
bccQ imcntionaUy unUithfuL. He is entitled to clakn that "the
JQitificalioc of the preitnt biography is that it rests upon a
llictfaodieal cxaminaiiuii of the itouitts. and that Ih<; ccmcluEiune,
srbeihvr right or wrong, were reached without any prepof«a>
liDDS.'' We may grant, too. in all cheerlulnEEs, that hLa *' jn-
Urttt in the bubjecl i^ purely inlelleclual, '
Bui beiidcs dci:bcrate bias, there is a bras that isindclibtr-
see. aad. chcreforet aM the roorc likely to c&cipe the notice of
tbv person whu enteiulns it un^waies. It i& the personal equa<
tion that fcfuie* to be climiniied One of i'rofesior Bury's
forttcr critics. himieJf an eminent hiBtorian. reminded the Regius
Profestor of Cambridge that Iiisiory, after all, is not and can-
not bt a ptjra sci«nL-e lis snbject'maiter cannot bo approached
iQ the lerenely Impersonal frame of mind with which the maihe-
matlcisn faces his problems^ Be ae scientific as one nray ir: the
dJKovery. collection, and cEa^^ificaiion of TdL^iv. the rriicrpreia-
lioD oi them involves a subjective pcrtonat factor. And Mr-
UotJer aflirnu, and everybody nju»l agre« wlih him, that the
faiiioriaa's interpretation go^ernit from first to last, his collection
and claisification. Mr. Morley. points for conftrmation of his
atatecaenl to the various historians of the Papacy; "The an-
I
I4S
BUity'S UFE i>F St. Patxick,
(Nov.,
naJs of (He Papacy are on« Ihing in the hands or Paslor, ihe
Catholic, iuiotlier thJ;;^ to Crcighlon, the Anglicar, a ihiid lo
Moller. Ihc Lutheran, and aomcihitig quite ditTcrcnt to wnierft
o( more secular slanip, like Gregorovius of Ktaumonl,*' " Talk."
he we9l sayS) "of history b^tng^ a science, ^% loud aj we like,
the writer oE it will continue Co approach hta che&t of archivM
with the bunch oS keys in his hand," One key which Mr, Hury
keeps constantly in his hand — applying it not alon« lo unlock-
ing a considerable number of parckuUr incidcntE, but albo ihe
entire meaning of Patrick's life — is the assumed principle, not
that the Tnir;tGu1oos lies ouiside (he purview of the historian,
but that there is no miraculous. He docs not merely ignore
the iupetnAtural, he denies it. If the denial it only implicit,
i1 iS) fc>r that rrason. all the more unconipTOTnifiing. since it
pcfmeates and colors the entire work, H he has shonn him-
self superior Co parlizanshtp in the ca±e of Catboltcjbai xtwittj
Protest Mil ism, in the wider conleet of Rationalism versus Chris-
tianity he 19 so completely pledged co one *idc that he do*»
not even pay the other the compliment of notrcing ^ts pre-
tensions. His whole inielloctufll tempeiarnent places him un-
compromisinjjly on one side in the wider and more important
conHiet between the CfarUlian and the rationalisiic atiitnc!vs
towards the pr£jblein& of life. And his piepoise^sions are suf-
iiciencly manifested when he uses such terms as '* superstitiop,"
*'9uperstitL0u}/' "old Jewish tale," in reference to Chrifltian
doctrines and Christian rites^
These ahorccomings, however, reflect principnily upon the
value of the book, when its claims to being considered a satit*
factory life of a Christian saint are under coniideralionn They
do not aflord groonds for impuliiiy lo ihe writer any failure to
employ all due diligence, and to exhibit all the rigid imparlitJ*
ity expected of the historian, in the execution of the (aik, ac-
cordinif to the ptan which he proposed lo himself There are,
however, >ome other biemtshes, which, had he taken the meastire
of pttint that h^s own repjiation, as well as respect for hia
readers, made incumbent on hjm, would not have appeared to
mar ihe fair face of hia work. In a section devoted, rather
gratuitously, to Pelagiu* and his doctrine, we are informed,
with iteration, that the Church leaches thai unbdptiEed infanta
are condemned to eternal sufFerine; alao, that the doctrine o<
origiftil tin implies a denial of the freedom of the will. One-
^5C5l
BURV'S llfE (?/- St. PATXiCK.
149
tenth of ihc labor which ProfeMor Hiiry mtisi frcquctiily hav*
tptn? on lixinff a dal«, cr «xUactJng froiD a mylh its ba^i^ ol
fur, would hive favcfl him from ffilEfng into these gUrIng mU-
uloe*^ lo cxKnuUion, however, oi his inaccuracy, it may be
ntiH«rv«(l IhAT, probably, ^'/ofeseoF tiury^fi rari^e tA siuditfe in
[niu«» eccleftisti<a] and iheological have mad< him niort
iinilJv with St Aug^ustine than with our luodem doctors.
II.
Hoivcvtr sharply one may feel prompted lo aiiiniddvert
01 tht? foregoing imperfections, he will finti that their prcs-
tncv ilfecu oaly slightly hiB general apprcclslion of Professor
Dirjr'ft work- Its excellences compel u« cheerfully to turn
ivay our «yc4 from the faults, The biography U a spJendM
pftct of worle. It i* admirahle alike for ita method, for the
iiJghly artUtic quality uf (he nirraiivc. tor the acLJien judicial
critjcism which fills its extensive appendices, and for the wide
«iii ture flcholarshtp which ha; focusfcd Mpon this obscure, anri,
ill niny places, perplexing subject, et^ery £&intilU ol k&owledge
Ehii CQLjld be brought to bear upon it,
Apparently to *et himselE riyht before flOTDc critics who in-
utpreted some statements made by him, in an addre^ which
ht delircrvd 4iil Rcg'iiia VtoWs^dT , to mean that \iti cun&iderrd
aittory to be entirely a science and nowise an an. the writer h^is,
l4ihe grvki advantage of the reader, divided his woik Into two
diftiact parti-^the text, and a set of crilicaf uppendicFt; em-
bridns ^^ cxatninaiion of the sources nnd subsidiary auihorl-
■^ ind saveral excursus on various di^puicd ppints, j-or the
»iil>ic»r "these appendices represent tht wgik whith belongs lo
^^t science o' history; the texl is an ctToTi in the ^rl of his-
lorj^Taphy/^ Thus the reader is spared ibose continual dl>
Sn^iofu and txAtperatini' p^renthebcfc which m nian>' wnrku
*Wroy his enjoyment of the narrative Here it Hc^wt on in
■n euy« even counc, which CArrie« the retdcr along wtihcut
*<ti)ir sn eflort on h» part. All the hard work, and there
"* >lenty of n. is packed into the app<!ndi<:c5, whi^h ccintain
■Bich more printed matter thun doci the lexi. Any one who
^ile> a les«jn in the melhodA ai scientific hi»loiy has only
^ slady thtie appcndkes. He will learn there with what in-
duiiijr the trained worker gathers his materials from alt quar*
l(rs ol the intellectual horison, with what perseverance he
ISO
Suffrs ufe of St. patpjck.
[Nov.,
9e«.rche9 ihe most heteroclile fields, and with whal analytic
AktlE he mak«e his accumuUtion yield up ihe tiniest gtaia of
■nformalton that was, perhaps, immersed in a great mass of i^
rele^'ant dfoas He Vi\{\ stt how h l& po.'Jtibtc aO xo bring IWO
obscurities to bear on each other a£ to fufriEsh mutual illuniiDa-
tion. how theories are test'd from various poin1« of view, aod,
when certainty \^ unairAinable. how nicely the meAflurcs oJ
probability mny be f\wA.
The introductory <:hapter, on the dllTusion of Christianity
beyond the confines of the Roman T^mpir?. eoniains a lummous
C'>nipecmi of Ihe relations which exbted in early Times belnccD
1re]and and the continent. It does away with the ptrpular
conception thai, previous to the Fourth century. Irclanfl wu
bryond the pale of Roman infljcnce, "It is «biurd to 5up-
po»/* wriiea the pri^fCEsor, "that the Celtic conquerors ol
Britain and of Iverne burned their ships when they had reached
the i^Jand shores and eut themselves oH from intercourse tiiih
the raainUnd. And we may be sure it ww not they who
ixtM egLablished com muni cations- We may be sure that \\it
pre'Celtic peoples ol Sotith Hritain and the IvernJans, who
gave ill name to Ireland, knew the waterways to the coasts of
the cnntmeni " He proceedn to show thut it would be hasty to
conclude, from the silence of Roman annals concerning any re-
litjnns with Ireland, that the Roman governors in Britain bad
not taken into account ihcir western ncighbont- Elsewhere be
adduces evidence to prove that before ihe fifth century the
LiEin alphabet had made its way into Ireland. Hence "it will
not amaie us to find, when we reach the fifth century, tlMil
men j;<j forth from Ireland to be trained in Chrialinn Iheology."
The beginning of ihe conversion of Ireland to Chnisiianiiy
(#0 arc in the tccond chapter) h^ been noiseless and datelew;
ihc chJid who was to organice it so that it could never be un-
done was born, a Roman eitlsen of Hritmn, about the year
589 A. His father, Calpurnius, waa afflicted with the dig-
nity of a Roman dccurion. Every landowner not of scnatoriftl
rank was obliged lo be a deriirioi;, and nn Ihem fell the obli-
gition of delivering to the imperial treasury the amount of laxA-
lio«t levied on their community^ a burden so t:rijshing that the
Kmperor Maxentius sometimes punished Chiisliani by piomot^
ing them to the dignity of dccurion CaEpumiiis called hit
5on Fatricius, " Hut i£ t'atrick talked as a child vith his father
BVUV'S LlJ-£ OF St, PATItlCK^
lud iQOtti«T the Drfthonic tongue of his ForGfuherf, he bore
ihe DBtnc of SuccaL*' He was ttius double-named^ like the
Apostle FauI, who bore a Roman, as well as a Jewish name
from hit youth up, Bul an<jthcr Reman name, Maj^onui, is
«lio aM^nlied lo Patrick^ and posMbiy his full ^tylt — as it
vDuld Appear in the town registry when he should come oi
if« to citorcite the rights of a dLi^ccn^was Fatriciufi Magotius
Sir:»tui. And, &ays ProfesiDf Kiiry, fatrick felt all his hfe, as
hii writings tesii/y, the aeitlimenta of reverence and vcncralioc,
for the «Enpirep that was shared by every cltixen, and ibc Eamc
mnviciion of it^ mdestruciihility thai was enlerUincd alilte by
Ut citizens and by the barbanans who were undermining its
lOtTgrity. Where wa« Bannavenia, the place named as the
^rthpUc< of Patrick ^ '*The onl>^ Bann^vcnla that we know
liy irear Davcntry (NorthampfuTi), but this due& not agrrc wiib
an Aftcient indication that ihe village of Calpurnius was dose
10 the ivflftiarn aea*" Professor Buiy, without assumidg a dog-
aili'c tonCf inclines to think that ii lay somewhere along the
lover waters of the Severn, and in a critical appendix he shows
maon why the opinion favoring Stralhclyde, that is, Dumbar-
ton, t» to be re|ected-»
In Chapter IL. after relating how during a foray of Irish
frrebooicrf. in the reign of Niall, approximately about a, d.
ic^, Patnuk wast captured and carried in Ireland, Professor
falls back upon Patrick's own writings for whai knowl-
is to be gained concerning al) that befell in hi^ capilvily.
Conifquemly, he rejects a local tradition which claimed the
^(trih county, CAfit of Lough Keagh, as the scene of Patrick's
^piivity^ The saint himaelf declared in his Cct/esn'on that his
iiiuicr lived in the"u]tiraate land,'' " rigb to the western sea,"
i«r tbe wood of Kochlad. that is. scmi?where in that part of
C^antuiEht at prcse^it known a* the barony of Tlrawtey. The
lott leLatch Palftck'6 sul^acijucnl escape, bra arrival at a seaport
'*^ich Professor Bary conjectures to have been Vartry, near Wtck-
[^K his embarkation on a ^hip of traders, part of who^e cargo
l^onftisted of dogs, bound, it seems probable^ for Nantes or Bor-
huflter uiEai 4it h\* Vvv'jcr-- -'Since ih< LmQlt wcvj in fjTi* ' ^itr rpci^lveil ■urpf
■WiU tt* voiijfhT M«*T the frf-n-[i or lh« brtitol Clmniii^l. Ihc cilnunec of Ihrre pJam
fttiMBH '1. liir FMiv."
[ 3^ P^OFessoj? Svxys Life of St. Patkica: [Nor».
tf^AUK, Fcofcuor Bury, bringicg whai light he can to bear oii
t^jfctrick's exceedingly vague and undefined narraiive of his
^.ndiftg* followed by several days" tfuvel ihrough & i«ifd<rneE^,
^r>d his subsequent escape from h[s rough and danf^croufi con^-
^aniens, concludes that the eecape occurred in Iloly. wher^ce
l^c traveled to Lcrins.
Th* residence of Pairick it Lerins, his return after some
^c«i'> to his Brilish home being briefly disposed of, we are m-
produced to the nnme of Helagma, (or, ic Professor Bury's
opiiii<>n, Ihe leachi:>g& of this tnonk aer\<d, by antilhesif, to
flr'W ■tteniion to the Churdi'a doctrine conttinirK *he (ale of
^lie unbaplued ar:d unbelieving. The dream of Patrick resQilcil
IroTV the intenj^e impression made upon him by reflecting on
the forlorn condtiion of the pagan frith destined lo eternal
prrdrtion: "I fancied that 1 heard Ihe voice of (he folk wh^
were near the wood ol l-ochlad, nigh lo the wcElcrn sea/'
Apart from its theological inatKuracy Profcsior Bury's ^pecu-
- lationji upon Ihe pan played by the doctrine concerning unbap*
P tiled infants in detcimining Patrick seem somewhat sttained,
dnd we leive them willingly to enter on one of the most io-
IiercAtin^ parts of the book, Irealirig of Patrick's residence Pt
AuKC'rre, the mission of Palladius to Ireland, and the subse-
quODt consecration of Patrick, Here Professor Bury ic at his
■ best lie finds a connection belween the despatch of St. Gcr-
■ maiiut to Britain, for the purpose of crushing Pelagian tenden-
cies there* and the mission of PalUdius lo Ireland- That the
■ pope did send a bishcip is conEidered a conclusive proof that
V in Ireland there .were already cnmrnunities of Christians; * and a
B Turihcr conjecture is hazarded that Ihe step was taken in re-
sponse to a rc(|LJcM of some orthodox Irish who perceived an
inftltration frorn Britain of Pelagian inituences- Assumiri! thai
some Irish CathoUcA £eni auch a petition to Gormanus in Britaiti,
A- l>. 4Jy, Professor Bury finds reason to believe ihat friend«
urged the claims of Patrick as the right man for ihe mission-
But Rome set aside the local choice in favor or a man belter
known to itKclf, a proceeding which Professor Bury accounts
for on the ground that "Ihe first and chief consideration of
Cslcsiine was the welfare and orthodoxy of IrUh believers,
not the conversion of Iri^h unbelievers," and Palladius bad
If. )ri<itirr. F I . I.4>if-
iw-l
Busy's Life of St. Pat/uck.
>5^
Atrcttfy Ai^nflilififxl him»rlf a« a ^inunch opponent of Pelsgitin-
iui But God wUJed othctw]»e; lor. wiihin a year of his ar-
tivi], PallAdius wjLf dead. And Pjitrick. who was nUrady pfc^^ar-
in^ to set forth with Homp ccuiJjutors to labor undrr Palladium,
TU immcdkicLy toniiccmied •uccesfco; to the defimci bishop by
(jcrmiTsai of Auxorre.
At this point arises Ihe question of whelhcr or not Painctr
WA» ft Romnn mJssioriary, And whcthcfi conscqucnity, the aiidcnt
Uish Church wu KoTnin Catholic, or^Hcavcn and Dr^ Todd
■now what. It any on o, after having read the present volume,
titt itill retain the jhadow of a doubt concerning Patrick's
^iJtlity of Rom^n nua^ion^ry, wv muM chf^i&h hirn as a valua.-
b1< liluMration of the influetlcc exerted by Ihe will over the
intellect, Th« opinion ol Todd could be eniertafned only tn a
rQmd that ignored the entire hiatorical cotidiiions ol ihe day,
At well af the considerations which all round common scn^e
tuggeiio Qn the problem^
Prof«t»or Bury, indecdn maintains that the siory of ralrick*^
C^UeCfUiun by <-!ciesirnt^ — a sitsry invtntrd to add a Jirilu of
4iSai|y to tb< Rational saint — will no: hold water. NevcTthe-
leu* PAtrick'i credentials and authority were derived from Rome.
Atter reviewing; brirDy the ircubles connecipd ijviih the Sre of
Arle», and pointing nut that it would be a grave miatakc to
^nftr ff^iD them that the bishops of Gaul ha.d ccai«d in any
*<S' to acknowledge the older claims of Rome or to reverence
It « the head of ChnMCndorn, ihe professor proceeds ; " When
I new ecclei iaitieal province wjls to be added to western Chria*
Iv&doiD, il waa to Rome, itaturalEy^ (hat an appeal would be
itide. It was to t1ie Bishop of Rome, as represtnling the
inity of the Church, that the ChHaliane of Ireland, desiring to
DB tfl orfcasiud portion of th^t unity, would naturally look ta
>peod them on their way. Hfs recognition of Ireland as a
pi^VTbce of the spiritual federation of which he was the a^
Ucwledaed h<^^, wuuld be the more direct and ctTeclive meanE
^^ tccuring for It an established place among the wc&lern
^urcbes." But \i I'atrick was n'Jt despatched directly by the
aaoian pontic, how can he have be«n a Roman missionary?
Mty simply. Palladius wa^, everybody admits, sent by Celes-
^ to the Irish, and "once this ttep was taken, once the
KvaiA bi<bop gave hift countenance and sanction, ii was a
outer of Indilfcreiice who consecrated the successor There
I
I
1S4 Bevy's Life of St. Patrick, ["Soy.,
wA.i £tgnificAnc« in the consccralmn at Rome of Ihc first bishop
of tlie new province; there would have been no parTicul^r
significance in such a consecration in the case of the second
any more tban tn the ca^e af the third. It was an accident
that Patrick was consecrated m Gaul, If Palladius bad not
been cut off| and if Patrick had proceeded, a$ he intended, to
Ireland in the capacity of a simple deacon, he might after'
wards have been called to succeed Palladiua by the choice of
the Irish CSriistians, and received episcopal ordination wherever
it was moai convenient." " The esEenlial point," rrofessor
Bury emplialically adds, "is that, by the sending of Palladius,
Ireland had becomr; one of the wcsiern churches, and therefore.
Like ]t9 fellows, looked to the See of Roinc as the highest au-
ihorily in Chri'stondom. Llriess, at the very moment of incor-
poration, ihcy were to repudiate the unity of the Church, the
Christiana of Ireland could not look with other eye^ than the
Christians of Gaul tx the appellate jurisdiction of the Roman
bishop, and the moral weight of his decrotaU,"
Besides, if Patrick did not goto Rome to be coririccrated by
CeleStlnv, he wenl^ ProftASOr lilury is careful, elsewhere in his
narrative, to show, on another occasion to Rome to pay his
obedience to Cele^tJnc't grcciter fiucccsgOE, "the majefitic Leo."
In what year this journey to^ie place \-i a disputed question.
Our author believes that the evidence points to the year after
Lto'b acce>fion, that is» when Patrick had been bishop in Ire-
land for ahout eight years. " It was in the year after his
(Lfio'a) elevation that Patrick, accordinjj to the conclusion to
which OLir evidence points, betook himself to Rome, No step
oould havtt been more natural, and none could have been more
politic. It WM equally wise whether he was a^sur^d of the
good will of Lco, or, as is possible, had reason to believe that
his work had been misrepresented. To report the success of
hia labors to the head of rhe western churclics, ol which Ire-
land was the youngest, 10 etiliit his personal sympathy, to gain
his formal approbation, hiE moral support, and his advice, wer«
objecEE which would well repay a visit to Rome, and an ab-
sence of some length from Ireland. It is, indeed, hardly coo
much to say that nothing was more likely to further bts suc-
cess than an pHprrss approbation ol his work by the highest
authority in Christendom/"
Ag^ain in the admirable recapitulatory closing chapter^ en-
;-l
Bi^'ity's Ufe of Sr Patiuck.
55
Eftkd, " Patrick'! PJace in Htsiory/' I'rofcBfor Buiy insUis upon
F^trlck'i imroducdon of the Irish into ibe Vttitus iideiim, a£
the ichieverrtfint which, mort- than any other feature of his ca-
i«r, «»t>^ili4h« hi* hi^ofkal position, l-'unhertnorc. he shows
r«r clctrly ihAl the subt«qutnt pRrtiil citrAjigement of Ire-
Uad frurn Rurne in the seventh century, esptscially Ihe pa&chal
qqe$tioft, and the form of ihe rAnsure. and the somewhat ec-
nfiEfiC devclopmenl which manifested itAclf in eccleEiablEcal or-
KkuUitiofL. furnish nr> aigument aga-in^t the cKiatcnce, nor
^cninith the hiuoHcal importan^Cj of ibe bond which i'alricW
ottbliih^d between R^mc and Ireland.
Tbe loeradiC'ible instinct of tribal independence, and ihe
y>9inji\\\ attraction which the Irish found in mon&fticism, re-
tvhing id a monaictc development which tended to override
tpilCCpat auihoHly. Jtlnnt: with the threat continenCat changed
»hith pfc^-ente<i Ihe Romnn pontiffs from giving much cfltc to
J«t*ni affairt, are, we are told, fuflicieni to account for the ec-
wniricity of the Irish Church in the sixth and seventh cen-
tiriet. Nor wu« \\ Pdtnclc, Prjfc^sor Hury ar^fiies, who was
rtipantible lor the non-Koman tonsure and paschal calendar.
Ht eitablithed the Roman usage in thefie two panlcularsj but
*Eief hi» death there occurred a reversion 1o obwrvanccs il»ai
■tre in vogue amaag the s::attered groups of ChrLatis.n3 who
[I receded him*
ir the profeiftor were a Catholic apologist he couEd not
>bev more care thiLn he does for placing Patrick's orthodoxy
tcyond alJ doubt Insiiioting a comparison between Paliick
^ the one side, and on the other, Wnltilas, Ihe Gothic npos-
tie. Cyril and Methodius, the Slavic, ^nd linnjface. ihe Gcirnanj
hv notes that Patrick did not translate the sacred books of bis
ftligion into Ihe vernacular hk did Wullilaa, nor csIabUah a
t«:iunil religious literature as did Cyril and his brother; nor
VIS he in such frequent and close coTnmunication with Itome
^ivras BoniEace, Hut he drd mnke Latin the language of cccte-
stiilical Ireland: Ai^d thereby csinbli^hed a powerlul force for
tvnicrvatioD of the i'nirat n^lfsia. It may be interesting to
note, h«re.ihc value which Professor Bury assigns to the bene-
i^ts that have accrued to the Church Trom her maintenance of
4 uiuversal language: "If Gaelic had been eatablLahed by Pat-
fii^k «i the cccie»ia«lical t^ni^ue of Ireland, Ihe reformers who.
b the seventh century, sought to abolish idias^ncjacies and
I
1
feitore untfornittyt rnlght htvc caused a rupiurc U
Church, which wouUt hav« ne«de(i Jong >'«3rs to heal. The
Latin UnguAge i£ one of th« arcana imperii of lh« Catholic
Church." Ie may not be out of place, he«, to bow our grace-
ful jtcknowlcdgnicnts lo Professor Bury for indiciting, by the
inditcnmmAlc way In which he usea the |eriD8» Roman C/t/A^Ju
and Cath^iic. thai he considers them convertible.
The limiiallonfi of ibc fi}>ace at ttur difpOisaL forbid us cv«n
lo glance at Ihe mttrcsting chapter* in which are dctarlpd the
labors of the gr«AC apostle in the island plain close lo Stratig-
ford Lough-^thiT place of his predilecrion^in Meath, and tn
Connaughl, the exctedingly in^tructit-e accounts of the church
discipline and eedesiastica] organirailon esublifhcd by Patrick,
as well as the history of Ihe codification of Irish lawi, known
as the SenchiiE Mfir. e^eclf^d by the labore and joint authority
. of Patrick and I.oigaiTC. Wc must rductanlly pa^ over fllfii>
■ in silence the professor's vigorous delltieation of King Loigalre,
who is shuwn to have been a ^talesman of rt^pcct^ble ability,
very different from the bloodthirsty, wild-eyed baibariati of
some Patrician wriiefB, Ererywhcrc, indeed, Professor Bury
evinces in a high degree the esipntiai qualities of the historian
— poller t*^ reconstruct the past in vivid color and definite out-
line and ability lo interpret the actions of the figures that pass
across the stae^, according to the standards and modes «!
thought that prevailed in their times.
Although, as *e have seen, the professor is absolutely be-
yond suspicion of any rdigicius Liaa in favcr of his hero, he
git-GS us a picture of Patrick which may be called syiripalhetic.
He lingers, with a trace of paiho*, over the sorrowful yet
manly complaint which the old man niakea in his fajnous Con-
/etsioH against his detiaciors, who* lri^bmen will be glad 10
know, were not, in the professor's judgment, natives of Ireland,
but British ecclcsiattivs who, jeaJous ^i TairJck't fame and suc«
cess, spread abroad evil tidings about the way things were
going iti the IrUh mission. It wifL be less flattering lo the
national pride, however, to find that one of the reasons oiTered
in support of the authcnlicity of ibe Cen/tsshrit orce, but now
no longer, disputed by Ihe eminent Celtic scholar. Professor I
?Jmnier, U that il Patrick had been addressing Irishmen, h«
would not have spoken of his residence in the country in a toi^
that betrays the exile in a foreign, uncongenial, inhospiiabk
k.
tW-J
BU/tVS UfE 0P ST. PATRICK.
>37
iind ftni yeftrning for hi£ be1ov«d home. The mention of Fro-
(tuor Zirnnicr'^ xMtme calls ittj ihc further Qb:crvMion that ihc
mirrt hwt o( his theory, ideniilying Patnck with P*iUdius,
tnd diminishing the £gurc of the saCnt almost to the vanishing
paiaE, ES v«ry completely lorn lo pieces in a Epeoisit appendix
Jcvatcd to thr Gorman profe^or With one citation, which
■ould require to be supplemented by many passing observa-
[lonj found through the volume, containing Trofcssor Bury'a
(innate of K'atri[^k*5 characier, ^t, aiust hiiog to a dose this
i<try inadequAte notice oE a book that will live long to furniah
iniiructivc, no Less than iniereaiing, study on a subject thai
Hill never cease to pL>5i»e&s a fascination for the historian ni the
Qiurch. "The writings of Fatdclc do not enable ud to dcllncMe
Ail<har4Cter, but they reveal unmistakably a «trang personality
ijid a spiritual nature. The iiiuin wha wrote ihe Con/ei^ion and
the L^tur had strength oE will, energy in action, tcsoLuiioci^
«ilhout over- confidence, and the capacity for leaisling pieiBuie
frtrm wilhout- It might be inferred, too* (hat ht? was al^cc-
[;Dn«Ce and Kn^itivc; subtle analysis might (disclose either trails.
But it is probable that few readers will escape the impression
tUt he poaaeatvd, besides enthusiasro, the practical qualities
ntc^it cMential for carrying through the task which he undcr-
kovk in the belief (hat he had been divinely inspired to fulfil
IL" How one finds borne in upon oneself the tfuth that the
awutal man receiveth not Ihc things of Ihe Spirit of <iod; for
ttiey \xc foollthne^^ unto \\\<ti. and he cannot know them- With
vhtt cieatne»a Frofesior Bury petceive^t that the drift of the
Cn/mrtfjf is to publish, in a airain "so humble from first to la&t
Efaot it alcno»I leads ti^elf^ to a misconscruction," the mighty
tTiingft that God chose to operate by means of one who felt
bioiKlf unwdrlhy af fuch a mi^^ioii? AniJ hi? yet fails to calch
il» ipitilUNl «ignilic«noe^
i
THH BROTHER OF MERCY.
RV JCVNIK nRAfCT;.
HE modern equivalent for ibe liadilional wjdow's
cruse provides scant food and clothing for a
growing boy, s.t Gregory Warden knew. So^
having gf>ne chrough the Grammar School and,
later, tlie High Si^hiol of iheir snia.IL lown, he
would at once have sought paid employment. But the widow
de^jred greater pr^paralion for Hfc's opportunities to be given
her boy with Ihc steadfast eyes and resolute ambition.
"I have so matiy music pupils now," she dedared briffhtly,
"I will see you through college/'
"Notso/'said Gregory, with his Mrm about her, "my »cho-
Ur«hip take* me through che first year. After chat I work my
way."
•* Voitr grandfather was a Vorkshireman," she laughed, '* and
(hey have a proverbs * [t*s dogged as does it.' " ilut there was
a break in her voiL-e, thus giving him up to himself.
He was now in hi^ second cmllege year, and "scutBing along
somehow," as he expre^§ed ir His lime was fairly divided be*
tween Mudy and working for the means to study, which, if h«
had known it. WhI^ a bleS!iiEi|g in disguise,
''You have a big pull/" said Van Ambler, a classmate ol
prelencJous but poor family, ** in goJng in for athlcika too.
YoLir niu^cle and six feet one got you that vacation class in
the Gytn. and (hose fellows yuu laugbt to row. Then you piek
up languages easily and you've had a lot of pupils, Spanish
anJ German, and so on. Kot that I envy you going dawn to
that beastly ' (ittle Ruropc' to get 'em, Not an acquaintance
that's possible in the whole quarcer."
'"You remind me," said Grci^irry, dryly, *'of a man t knew
who said he was glad he was born u st\fb, for it h^d kept him
out of much bad company. Perhaps you would envy me still
less the aociely of Mike the janitor'^ friends, whcm be brirgs
toipcnd an occasional honr with me. t am^ — for value received
I90tj
THE Brother of Mercy^
J 59
^vbat OrlcnUib would call their scnbr. Kut don'l you try ihat
tn4«, Vftn, or your poetic fancy would attenuate their rocE-
%\%t\ la A point they wouldn't ft^ind, I began a Idler (or s.
cBnichmnn the other day at bis exprrss direction; 'My dear,
b^lDvcd, kind, Misf, Madam/ Vet hU fair one had the ingratU
tudc lo requotE In the answer, which I read lo him^ that he
BQuld gel ' inother man' to write his letters for hirn. 'this
tere' one not being a(fectiorjitc enough. The Sinikin^' butler
m BO good &« to add ii postscript to bis Ust, staung that iG
'*» wrote by a very nice person/"
"h'» hsrd line*/" said Van Ambler discontentedly, '* that,
vhilc loi» of the felldwf drive their traps and give wine sup-
pen aad run along on velvet to their degrees, you and I and
4 few oth«r< should find the road so rough. *The hfili-mark
ef ft CCEitleniftn/ my father calls a college education; but he
cin't afiord the hall-mark, and it's robbing the kids a| hoinC'
Ualnrtg ends iTJeet here gives me no time to brc»he/'
"You «cni to have plenty this afternoon." said Gregory,
UAkiodly iuid with cheerful inhospiuHiy. *' Suppose you go
now an«l let me do lhi» Sophocles, If th^ conactence of what
you c«ll — inexplicably — in America, an 'Anglican' will allow
p>Ui come in on Sunday after service, and Til lake yovi to
''Ob,"«aid Van Ambler in the doorway, starting on a new
Cr]cvanc«> " */ill you believe it? The dean has given me no-
tice tn have no moro servicer in my oratory. Just because at
tnrEait UttTc ve*per funccion^thc one you wouldn't come to^I
lor^t and left the candles burning, and a lace curtain blew into
i\c flame. He A«id my jnccnAC wa« enou(»ti lo endufc. but he
*QUIdn't have the win^ burned down T I got that incenEc at
tbirgmin^f \\ is a llllle t^ucer Can you wonder that so many
tre driven laIo agnuaticitm ^ " Grumbling thus, he ran into
Uit arm> of a 4iout and florid little man attempting to enier.
" fie£f p^irdon," said the little mao, wham therefore boih
frienda clauifivd ae a tradesman; " are you Mr- Warden ? " He
■ai reicrred to Gregory, who laid down his lexicon with re-
IsciajKC. " Ueg pardon," said the little man again. '*but ii
1^ other gentleman Mr, Van Ambler ? Ve^ ? h will save me
4 call at bit room if 1 can n^jcak to both gentlemen together,
Uay ] rit do«m ^ Thank you. Well, gentlemen," when all bad
I4<lled to atledtion, *' I have called lo — ah — pre».enl a little
A
i6o The Brother of Mercy. [Nov., .» i
proposition to you. You are aware of thc^ah — may I say
heterogeneous character of the population of a university town. — '
This one is — so to express it — more — ah — varied and change- — -
able than most, owing to the fact that it is also a health re- -^^
sort, The-^ah— salubrity of Che air and good society bring ~^a
here many invalids hoping to regain their lost strength. Un-
fortunately, they wait too long before coming i many, indeed, «
being in the last stages before they arrive, which is a sad, sad M:
thing.'*
Nature had given the visitor a jovial cast of countenance, ^
but this was carefully corrected by artificial gravity. He shook
his head and sighed deeply, and Gregory received, with per-
fect accuracy, the impression that he was an undertaker.
" Well," said he, reviving, '* these poor people are in some
cases far from iheir homes, with few relatives, perhaps, or even
none. 1 frequently receive letters and telegrams requesting that
they may be buried in our beautiful cemetery here, in which
case the necessary attendants are furnished by me. But, gen-
tleman," with feeling,"! am a man whose heart is in his. busi-
ness ; who wishes to give it those touches of^ah — fine art, I
may say, which — ah — relieve its gloom. In short, the men I
engage for mere mechanical service are not fitted for the pall-
bearers' serious and gentlemanly duties. They neither act, dress,
nor look the part. * Act well your part,' as^^-ah — the Good
Book says. One of them actually came in tan colored gloves
and had the audacity to tell me he had no others! Another
laughed audibly on entering the house, for which I promptly
discharged him. Now, my idea is this. I understand that there
are a few of you young collegians who are not absolutely — ah
^of inflated means; who are, so to speak, of tastes and ways
and — ah— ^-aspirations larger than — 'ah — your actual income; who
are not, in fact, independent of profitable occupation." This
with factitious sprightliness in face of Gregory's size and grim-
ness.
" Go on," said the latter,
"I was told," continued the undertaker, more rapidly "that
these gentlemen increased their resources by taking pupils, and
in other — ah — most creditable ways. If you would consent to
assume the office I have — ah — indicated, and select at your
pleasure four others who would also agree, you would find mo
liberal in all respects,"
iW)
THE BR0\
Mercy.
161
"WaJt/'aaM Van ARiblcr, interposing before Gregory could
ipaak, "if you will leave your address we vvlll ihink it ovct
U(l ^ni! an answer-"
'*By »1] cicfLii;," said ihe little man, dcpotiting a bit of
eifdboard dn the table. "U your reply should be favorabEe, 1
m^Ve but one stipulation: that you select no one who Uughs
a[ mapporCufie times. GcniEcfnen, good-day." and he wa? gone,
ThcQ tbc friends ]c»oked at each other- Said Gregory, with
4 long breath : " ThJf \% the most astonishing thing that ever I
knew "
*' Vou needti't utterly toss ic away/' said Van Ambler, '* until
you consider it a bit. I was as mucb shocked afi you at first,
Thm it came to me that it was not such an untenable propo^i-
liQQ after alL See here, now. These unfortunate invalids chat
die away frotn hoine and without friends^ ought lo be properly
and rcipectfully attended. Gentlemen would do tt with d«cent
Ifiaviiy, al leaiif. And, Warden, it's really a piotis duty. One
of tbc works of oiercy, ycu remember. Vou kaow the works
c! enercy ? "
" I am a« intimately acquainted wirh Ihe wo;V» of mercy as
'IK other Christian who doefo't practice them."
" Well, buty the dead's one of ihtm. There are— let mc see
—Brown, HickVk and two or three other men in this house, im-
peciinfous as we and steady ^notigh fellows. Even if we refuse
l^C Oflicc wc ought to pass \\. on. I'll have Ihrm up in my
r«oia to-night and talk it over. And ace here, Warden, it's
^her a fine thing — this Ilurial Society. Sott of— ahem — Broth*
<*ood. you know/'
"Vou acem to have caught the fat little man'; cou^h,"
"Ob, bother [ listen \ there's one in Rome, you know, Urcth'
IBD of ihc Misericordia, they call them ; an historic order founded
^ ihc Middlr Ages during an epidtinijc of (he plaguv or some^
thl
^%. Rich and poor, prince and peasant, all join alike la
No one knows his fellow-membert
Wd» of charitable works,
^dall go marked/'
" Those two last points appeal to me strongly/' *aid Gregory.
Wc might consult the undertaker about their advisability in
But ihe outcome o/ it whs that they formed a cJub to which
Cftjory gave the name of "The Sorrowful Six/' and the
Blotto: "Act well your part," The impressionable Van Ambler
vou t3t«t:— n
The BftOTffEU OF MEitcy.
htii by tbat time worked himndr. by his own eloquence, into «
COttlempUtive and monastic frame of mind, which induced him
to go about after any funeral at which they ofliciatcd with an
exalted acid atcctlc expression. He tfied to gel the others to
call t h em svlv^a^ privately— Brethren of the Misericardia ; but
they kuifhed at that, so he had to gtve it up.
" He'll be cumjng to an interment in a frock and hood some
of Xh^it daya,'* Gregory remarked, *'and then the dean will
hear of It"; and he began to call him "Brother AlFied."
" It makes no real dlfTerence/' retorted Van Ambler, with
a show of justice, " your not taking it seriously. Making j»kes
about it cannot alter the position in the least/'
"That is true," admitted Gregory quietly, and ceased all
but fielf'Tnockery in this mattei- He tried, indeed^ not to think
about it, except when called upon for his share of duty.
These occasions seemed unusually frequent during the early,
variable spring weather. *' We appear to be in black most of
our lime," said one of the "Six"; but he said it chceriully,
for the emolument wa» not inconsiderable, Gregory gave up
ocDUpation 4& scribe, Ending it encroach too much upon
re valuable time; and Van Ambler was able to purchase a
quality of incense to which the dean made as yet no audible
objection. So things went along smoothly until the second
r ended; and, becoming intired to what they worked in, it
'to be feared chat the funereal office they tilled began to serve
these light'hcarted youths as an cHective background for ambi-
tious stndicE and joyous sports,
*' I suggest that we change our name to "The Mournful
Mutes/* said Gregory, at a UlUrious late supper, with a figni-
ficant lapse into trifling.
Then an event occurred at which the stars should have
sung and the universe stood still; but which actually affected
To an appreciable extent no one but Mr- Warden. This Was
a visit paid by Miss Annabel KfTingham, of his native town, to
a friend living near the university. The young lady was a
daughter of the Judge who hitd premised Inin a place in hit
office if he got through creditably. He had known her from
childhood and believed her to be a radiant marvel, while most
people thought her a \^Ty pretty girl When serious, she had
a w.\y which he liked of touching her round chin with her
finder, and she did it when she said to him: "Flora and
"90S-1
THE Brother of Mercv,
1*3
:
dined fti the dciin's lAst nighE, We were tAlking of Ihc under-
(radiiiCcs and he said some very nice thinga of you."
"I ihinh as highly o\ th« dean aa T do of my man i>ther-
wtBc irrcjifDHchabl? ^vho saya nice thjn|*? about me,"
"He said you were aa influence in th« college,"
Gregory winced. No ordinary m^n, knowing ihe pit-falls
of his naiurp, but flinches somewhat as between himvelf and
hit Maker ai thi$ responsibility.
*'l wiih 1 were." he said humbly. Then, more lightly;
"He ought to be better actiuaintcd wUh you. He wotiM then
c4l] IDC the influence of an influence."
She surveyed him thoughtfully^ " Gregory, I 9Hhu tell
yoii^"
"TbU 14 very sudder," he murmured, ** SlUI. you live in the
ume pUec a^ my mother, to whom you can apply at any
moment.'*
'^l am /^ proud," she continued, Ignoring hii frivolity, '^«r
ibc way yoo) ar« getting through. It is a hard ^^ht, 1 know,
i^oic fortune- But I am gUd you are poor. "
■* So am not II*' he remarked.
** Oft some far off day/' she went on, *' I shall be happy to
reniemb«f^l m«n ^au will be happy- — "
'• You mean we shall bcnh be happy together " And forth*
with descetided to depths ol banality it would be unfriendly
to r«cordt When they came to themselves they had strolled to
1 gentle declivity overlooking the picturesque cemetery with its
p felly chape L
"How lovely the autumn woods look down in that peaoe»
i'liI valley," she commented- " Do you know that my window at
Hora's commandt a t^uilc neir view ? " He had known it, but he
hid not reflected before that that way d;Lnger lay. "Veaterday
I'temoon/' ^hr &Mid, "I nolic^d— you do not nitiitt my »peHk-
bg of it — a funeral where you acted as bearer. Not a near
friend, I hope?"
■* No, not exactly: a — a sort of acquainlanceH" He aUo
leemsd to h*ve ac^jircd the undenakcr's cough.
*'Vou looked so serious — it made oic anxious for you.
S'^Wh Mr. Van Ambler^l have only seen him before that in
|oJf i«iit» and 1 was ashamed to find myself smihng at his
•«lenin look. He is such a dear, comical sort of a man, and
be was walking with hts eyes nearly shut-'*
I«4
The Brother uy Mercy.
[N
or.
Th« thought that Van A]nl>Icr uroul^ hardly lilt* lo hi
himself so described must have canfuscd Gregory, for be An-
swered rashly: " It was a — a sort of relative of y\\%"
"Ah!" said the young lady and changed the subject Bat
next day she spoke with Kome severity: " Gr^eoiy, I wan tut-
pri^ed to meet Mr. Van AmbTcr at ihe card party lavt ntghl.
A few d^ys' seclusion would AOt teem too greil respect to pay
even a di^ianl relative,"
" 1 think so myself," Gtegoiy was harassed into saying. " but
iQ'^ufning U very slightly obsetv^cd th^ae days." Annabel stared
and he rapidly resolved to kill no more of Van Ambler's tela-
ttons for the present- FEut three days a^tcr she mti the same
party attending a funeral into the chapel; and, again, twice >n
the following week- Thus, a once truthful man was forced by
hia firat thuu^htlrs^ invdnLior into a career of deceptiun pain*
Jul in itself, atid, which was wor», hastening him towards in*
Cvltable detection. Hla lady'a delkalc pfol^le, so unnecessarily
often at that nnlucky wintiuw* h? began lu view with unlover-
like disfavor- Hy the tmie he had s^icrificed an aunt, two
UTickit a cou«in. and a brother-in-Uw of various claABtnatct to
the eiiisencicfr of the fituation, he caught a curious took in
Annabel's eye which heralded approaching late, Th«n one day,
in order to keep an appointment with Mr. Catafalque, he ex-
ciiied himself bjr note from escorting her to an afternoon c>oo<
cert ot\ the pica *' (rnexpccted demise of vonerabte >£entlemaa
to whom was due this tribmc oi respect, etc "
"Do you know/' ehc observed, with aUfmlng sweetncs^^
when next they were together, " I cinnot think this a health-
ful pEacC' t^ven in the comparatively limited circle o( your
intimate friends, the mortality is somelhing ippalllnB' 3 should
cat) U an epJdemk. That b the tenth funeral 1 have seen you
attend since 1 came."
" Vci " ; he assented, apprehensivcly-
"Your elderly friend'^ death was sudden^ Did h« kavc
any family ^"
''No—n^ he wa^ a childless widower; a retired broker; «ad
ieft his forti;oe to charities."
"Singular, very"; she said with cruel clearne««. '* ] snt*
pect that Mr Van Ambler and Mr, Hicka were out so late that
lots of sleep contused their memories; for they both lold c)«
1901.1
The brother of Mercy.
i«S
rta! they lost the conceft by aHendlng ihe same (uncral — an
olj I*dy"s— a Mrs, Green's."
It hashed upon Gregory that th« Ute»t inteim«rji hid been
(if din elderly lady— a fact furyotlcTi by him in presenJ gu'lly
(mbarrassm^Qt, Surety it was time to end this and resume
ioin«lhii\g IJIc« nsanty candor
"J will lelJ you all about it," taid he; and laid the true
f*cu in the case before her with stich coolness as he could
oiiuUr. Her face wab enigmatic Hunng the recital* though her
colar came and went- There was a long paut>e at the end,
"Your other Enethods of sdf- support have been legitimate
ind worthy," ah e &aid at Ihc end, *' but tliie one — why— why-—
It 11 like a ghoul''* And she flushed again and walked off a
Httle distance.
"Do not ttt Van Ambler hear you," said Gregory, with
raeful humor. *' lie datiera himseH that it \% a sacred duty—
1 reli];;LOus function ; that we are. in fine, an American Brother^
hood of the Misencordia. Like that one in Koine, you know.
biftlaric, ){raA<J, noble^ of romantic traditions and picturesque
uiociationa,"
"I know Alt about the Drelhren of the Misericordia/' laid
the |[irl with dl^niiy, "and I have never heard or seen it
»UCed that their pious labors were performed for — prd^tT*
" Votjr voice echoes my conscience," he repUcd. '* I promise
to reiign the position to-morrow it yoy will now permit a
**'gbour to approach you. "
Said she, with a hint of relenting: "If you had persisted
b the pari of such ft Hrother of Mercy, 1 should have t^ket)
*ov> myaeir and kept them " — signiticantly — '* aa a Little SisUr
«rihc Poor."
■*Then we ibc«]«l both/* he answered boldly, "have mia*
i^cfi oor vocation."
MADAUb SWETCHIKE AND HEK FKIE^DS.
»Y THE ltO;4. M. U. MAXWELL HCOTV.
Vko 15 tli«c* itut dD«K Tiol know this Kiis^ian 1b<^v with
hct thonoxbly Frvnch bcait? ihia maiily imcllect umted
lo vadl ttCDiAikly afitdloiu. the miad of Ja^epli dc Maislic
linked to tbc BO«U of A F«ciIOD. anil wAnx^ed with a picEy 50
uptaUe, A Purity »o ddicAl^— this ^voman, iu shoii, who
mM of tutMtf '^ I d<i*ire 10 bf T^mciribeTcd hy no Other epl-
•M^ tbftQ tkcM woriki: ' Sh« who bclievcEl, wluj praytd,
Ml «W tor^/ '-/V^ ri^arw.
HilHSK words, which »ur) up Madame Swetchino't
chuftcttr And virtues, mtght aI»o make u» hesi
Ute to «dd « fresh ch&ptcr to the slor/ of A
life alr^fldjr so well knou^nn Since ihey were writ*
Ivs, however* much has been publiahed relating
to MailAtoe Swv(chioe*< frieodt, whkb we venture to think
tlirowt 4 Ir**^ ^nd obArmiOK light on her also, and which
I^MlUt* uft to UttgflT raldil ihal great and holy company to
wbiMU kh« wfti a guide and a tnotber, "Do not \tt us vrtAry
^i ftovrli^l Mtcb o( kindneu and sympathy in out paih through
\ktt, ' »1>« *>■><* **^^ • '^^^ AAAuredly no one knew better than she
hikw |u t'^A^'l'** ^^^'> ^*' ^'^^ ^''*^ ^^ ^" apQsilcahip ot kindne&s.
UwlMtf ti> h«r poiition and Talents Madame Swetchine had,
blHtlni b»r loiiC life, opportunities ol hnoi^trg most of the
^m^HMm of her lime, both in Russia and i-rance, but it It
lUlh^tii ihe Trench friends who surrounded her in her later
v-«tH lluit ^'**^ Interest us. and whose names are most im*
iHtIk' l«^ ^**- ^'^ cannot open the Memoirs of Pere Lacor-
fj^()«, Yiim da Kavignan. Mr< Augustus Craven"-*lo name a
liW"-oLlhoUl ttftiiiing what a jiUce Madame SwelthJne's friend-
0t\^ Lk^vtipled in their livea, and how dcrp wa& her inf^uenca
W< 4lt*i" 1-*^ ^* cathor together the record of some of
lkvt¥ i<i«^»d*hip4 piecioui 10 us still on earth, although — nay,
^MMM^'l'i'V ^*^* ''^^ ^^'^^ '*M^' ^ ^^ ^^^ confidentJy hop^
«^lt|bT«'l >h<ir <()mp)«tjon in heaven.
|hs ypMi \^.\t saw Iho dawn of what \n& may perhaps
flM tit** U*M(lill nl ibaae Iciendshipa— ihnt with P^re Lacor-
\%\i9 ll MfM ]UM after hii Anal putting frcm M~ Lamenuaia,
4^1 «|iL'|4l Mi* Utri« fif hit own moiher'a death, thai the great
tp^] Madame SiVETCHf.vE and Mer FftrES'DS. x6y
DoCitDiCan wvu introduced lo Mfldanit Swetchinc by M, de
HunUlembcrt. and became almosi it once her "Son of pfe-
dilectlon." Writing oi thb desolate lime in hts lilc, when hi«
i'l^rure tvai dim and uncpruln, and his heart stkll bifid from the
vounds of the pa^r, PL<rc I.ftcordaire 9ay9 that he approached
HAdttno Swctchine aa a shipwrecked mariner, storm- tosird by
Ih? wave* of lire. "\ remember now, after Iwcniy ycara/' he
idrts, "wbfti Mores of light and strength she put at the ser-
ver of a young man then <iu]lc unknown to her. Her coun-
itii manfEthened me at the eame time i^ainsl di&courBgement
tad iCuaion."
TFlc whole passage is so beautiful that we may be par-
doned for quoting at length- "She was marvdou^/^ contiru«
Lacorvinire, "for discovering the side to -which one waj at-
tnctcd and where one reeded help. The measure of her
thoflghti WpW so perfect, the liberty of her Judgmenis to re<
Ckarkjibl?. that I was long in discovering wh^* and what, owned
hef preferences. Inttcad of, as elsewhere, knowing beforehand
vku would be said to me. with her 1 liaidly ever knew, and
Mtthere else did 1 feeJ myself so far from the world. This
tti^h influence was not shed on mc alone; others — my elders
Qr Eny contemporanes^fclt its elTect, and it is impossible to
*iy of how many souls this one peerless soul was the beacon
—not only by day ot at fixed times, not only in the evening
Eill up to midnight or after; but at all moments wa? she im-
portuned by others, without ever complaining ; and ihui^ around
) Uranger a company gathered of all times and of nit countries,
became truth itvelf waa its toil, its air, its light and being,*'
In the brief notice from which T have ijtjoied above Pere
wDrdaire goei on to describe Madame Swetchine's talents
^<1 learning, ner love for the poor and her very practical
*<:Qnomiea for their benefit — such as giving up her carriage-
*te telU us of The young deaf-mute jidopted by her, and of
o*r babit of marking each of the great event* of her life by
oadertaking the charge of a frc^h poor perton, visiting and
Iriftg for them herself, *' She continued this till the last days
•J her Jife and, with the breath of life trembling and uncertain
on hef lipt, abe 6lill afthed for news of her poor,"" Echoing
tfae gn^t writer, the simple words of Madame Swelehinc's
Jviliful aervani, Cloppet, hcJp to complete this picture of her
"A/uIr 4a< ilWi'ii' '^v-'i-'iiitr. n> Wi* t-ii'^rLNur*. l-t C«mj^'>i^it, 9% Oiioltei,
^
I6S MADAX'E SWETCHIAE AND NER FPiEXDS, (Nov,,
charity. "She had ihc iftleni which few pos£?}£ — cbc laDguage
suited ID each daa* of ptrso^kA she saw. She knew so well
how tu coiiHolr the poor in their mjstry. and th« Hch in their
domestic trouble;, if> support the Attlkied and to couaicl
Luothera of famLlJes who cime for a.dvice for their children,
I SJAw all those who rame to be comforted go away wJlh peace
on their countenance,"
M- lie Falloux. whom wc know a* one of the moit intimate
of MadAmc SweCchlne't friends, and the author of her Lift, wai
pnvJlei^iid Jater on, afEer Pore LacorJatre's deaTh, by bein]{ tiiadc
the depotiiory of the coTre*pcndcncc between them, ftcd to bit
leal we owe ttie lar^c volume of LtiUrt published in 1864^
Although a good miny of Madame Swetchitie'i hove been loat,
cnout»h rcn^ftin to malcc the collection very complete, and as the
editor saya: •" Thii dialogue between two souii united in God
ihedjt 1 bright light on the religious history ol ihelJnie." Com-
rncini; in iS^j, the letters pursue their failhlul way year by
^Itair* ending only a month before Madame Swetchine's death;
and a few eKtr4Ct&, (gathered here and tlicie, will »how cb how
Pere Lacordaire regarded her, " You have been, in God'i handc,
for my aoui lilce those rayi of iuni>hinc which fall in sprinjf on
the poor man'£ brow and comfort him for the hardjhips of win-
ter," he wrLtesi on one occasion. On another \if- playfully begs
her not to get too holy: "Don't become rjuite a latnt yctfor
fear that I could not folJow you/' Once he reproaches her for
noi frpcikiftji: fnore openly to him; "I assure you thai my only
reproach i% that 1 find you always too circumipect and delicate
In your manner of e\prc±sing yoLjr^elf- Vou have a spectal
geniiLs for that flattery which is the safeguard of truth. . .
The heart i& like the eyes, it ennnot bear the full light; sttU I
chink you are eiicesfivc in the art of twilight.'*
In July, ^^IQ, at a moment which in spite of Ptre Lacor-
daire*s |^re*t humility may have brtn rryini; t" him, he and
Madame Swetchine exchange thoughlf^ The father writes to teU
her of the election of a general for the new French province-
" Uear friend: The K- K. Jandel has ]\\=\ betn natnrd as Gen
eral of our order by the So^^creif n Pontiff. We have half known
it for ten days; now the newa 1* certain and even pgblic. Itj
is A great honor for us who number only a few years of k-v'mx-
ence, and whom the Vicar of jc^ua Chrltt. by an exiraordi'^Kri
favor, thu& procUims co the world as a living o^«'
St. Diirninic It is for me the most *
jjos-J Madame SwKrcnh\£ a^'d Her FJiisNi>s. 169
fof ^1 my Ubors. OlherE, perhaps, may tee somflthing elfi« in
tay «KC]uE(>on, but even supposing thpie W3& any \\i will to m«
personaJJy, Ihe vork of my lik Has been non« the less recog-
nljcd. Not only is it reco^nij:fd as a holy reform for France,
but wc *rc given ihe power lo rxterd U lo Ihe *hole older
ihnio|>hout the Catholic world In what regards myreJ^ what-
fver m»y hire been the motive* (or preference, I can only *e* in
fhem the adniLrAblc mercy of Gotl, who has not wished to with-
duw (Tie from my apoaiolie fniniairy, of 10 pJacc mt for the
rat of my life In a position which would not have leit me
Ebe tiTn« to write a tinrr or to preach a word. F^e Jandtl is
mjrsclf without the drawbacks of myself/'
Two dtyi Uter Madame Swetchinc replies asfoIlowE: *'My
dtu friend: 1 have been more touched than any one by lhi(
notable KLiccf^tii, wh:ch re^embJcH— like two drops of waFer^ — one
nf ibose solemn ble«in^» by which Providence sigmfifs its ap-
proval. There Ia success as 1 like it — solid, fruitfLjl in reau^tfi,
pncticail, and containing in itself an answer to all uncertainlJes
lod to all doubts. Never was /avor more signilicani. A long
lilence matiert little when broken by fpeech so e^pUdt. . . .
] C411 say to you very conscientiously that iho honor done to
Ptre Jandel refers, above all, to you, and nothing seems more
nAEural ih«o thM, having recourse to the 1-V«nch source, ihey
hire noi run the nak of drying w up by taking you away,
Pert Jftodcl will do almost all you could have done in Rome,
but Ikow could he have replaced you In France ^ li ^ecms to
Oe almost aB ioipos^ble ihal ibf choice cciuld h&vc reeled on
V^tx as tiitt it should not have been the first idea to present
tticir - . . Vou once called mc your 'friend for eiernityH* I
hive weii remembered this term, and 1 astume its rcsponiLbiUtieiv*'
During P^re Lacordaire's visit to Knglnnd, in iS$z, he wrote
lo Madame Swetchinc from Oxford, and at the risk of repeat-
ing what is well known I c^innot refrain frcm cjunTing what is
li> ietereMint;' "It it Irom thi*' beautiinl, serious, nrble, and
kindJy town of Oxford thit f desire, dear friend, to reply to
rout leller of Mnrch 4. ... I arrived heie ycbtciday evcn-
injt «]oiM and quite lost, at tt were, but with a childlike joy to
(■ad myiclf In • town without smoke or noiie, jlM full of llie-
Firy monum«ntB| some gothtc, some in modern style, and with
*ii incredible number ol silent courtyardE and poriicoA where the
ponng iCudents pas» here and there in their quamt little caps
u<3 gowns. ! walk about with delight in these qujet vtrcets and
ifADAME Stl£rcU/X£ ANI> J/£fi pRlEXDS.
these betutifol «venuci of tre«« which border tvka livcrs, and
I do dot Tcmembcf lo have seen anyihJng whkb ha£ Icfl upott
m« a more charming iinprei«ion. 1 conceive that aH xhc^m yoo«g
people brought up here never loc the memory of Oxford, and
return here with an atfection that time only increafirA^ We h^w-e
nothing reseinbling it in France. The umversity lE for us merdy
& college, ehjtt l» to say, four waits with Ave or %\x profefiKon
4iid M many macteri of fliudles- All rhe colleges here icand
with Ihe^T doors witle open, and strangers penetrate within a«
into B refuge which belongs to all who love the perfutn« of
what it literary or beautiful- Each of the college* \% Urg^ bttt
not crowded, ^aliEudo adds to Iheir grandeur; nearly all. atkd
the churches and monuments also, bear the mark nf immenK
«ge, and it Jookf a« if everything would crumble to piece*,
Oxford U at the aam« time the imAge and the stronghold of
the Anglican Church/'
In the iaat yeara. when Madame Swctchinc's sutferings wete
increasing. Fere Lacordatre docs not fall to send word* of aJ*
icctionnte syiripalhy *^Vou are very unwell and sad, I hcaj
from Madame Me*nard," he writes, in Octobcx, '8^j. "A1»»
sooner or later, the crass l^nds us, and virtue, far from pre-
serviTig us. seem^ lo invite Atmighly God to touch ls with the
MystcHouB Sceptre borne by his Son. But what courage i<
needed to receivv It In our turn I and what a torch la lijth,
which throws light on our weaknefi while it open* our eyes.
I dare not say to you that I am always with you. What U
man lo console and support I God himself can hardly do tbii,
fio poor are we: but at least, inasmuch a£ alTecilon, gratUude,
and devotion cau cfTrr help from one crcfllure lo another. I am
present at your sufferings and share them. Remember some-
times that you have done mc good and that by me, perhaps,
you have done good lo many others whom you do QOC know,
but who will one day know you/'
In ES34 he ends one of hU letters with the hope of teeiag
Madame Swetchine again, "Good-bye, dcai friend, life la aad
&nd bitter; God alone puts a littlt: joy into it It i» he who
is ^''^ing to give me the Joy of seeing you and of telling you
agjiiu how much I low you in your much trt«d old ftgt* >Evd
how I recall each day all Che good you have done m«>'*
The Uit letter addrcfied by P^^re I.acnrdalre to Madacie
Swetchine wai dated August 24* ^^$7* *nd although p
never let him know how critical her (tate was, hla
I
i
t^i] Madame Siysrc/z/x^ Axn IlKt: FRfEi^DS. 171
Efut \ua forctiw that the end wae at Iimd. " I hope to £ee you
igua hcr« belaw,'* he writes; " seod me news of yourself, and
brUfvc that no one is more united in spirit wUh you, or fcoh
raorp than I do ihe value of your affection. Pray for me ai I do
hiXy for you. C( \% in God thai we sh^U be united forever."
P^rc de Ravignan"* name must ever be coprectcd with the
Intndthip between P^rc Lacoidaire and Madame Swetchine.
K\ 1±»c munienl tliAt Ihe ^rcal Jesuit fuccccdccl the gieat Do-
HEiiiicaii ia the puJpU of Notre Datne, their muluo) friend, P^re
R'llivan, Eacroduced the former to M^ante Swetchme. and ap-
ptf«ntly he at first alarmed her, for we fjnd hilt] writing to
her: " The excclJeni Kleuthcrc teiU me that you ate very much
ifraid of mc \ Can this b* true or po£sibIe ? I should be only
loo bappy if yoEi would be my m^Mer and teacher, to find
\Vi\\ with me and scold me — lo pray (or me aUn." He writes
ifffctioAalely of Tere Lacordaire to their commoa friend* and
ibe ia her turn dcBcribea the eiTect of Pcre de Ravignan's con-
ference* to hi* brother preacher, and makes ihe foilowing rifile
in her joumAl: **'M. Laiti was fhf praUr ^f tht /iw — ht
Tmtf kav4 ionvinctd by ki% siUn^^.' These words of M. de
Umutine re|{arding M. Lain6 apply equally well to Ft^rc de
^^^nan." L&tcf> when they beca.me better acquaJntedn the
Am meeting* of the Children cf Mary took place in M^ame
Svetchine'* houN«, and we And her wtitiog to the father in
iheie terms :
"My dear and venerated father: E am already looking for-
■111I to the hd;}py hour wc hhaW apend on Friday." Again:
"How good you arel My heart accepts a« a grace whatever
QDncj to m« from God, and she encouiagement you give me 1»
t^CL. the leajt of the favors for which I daily give him iciy lliank:.'
I CAQQot tell you how warmly M, Lacordairc begged me to
Lbink you for your kind remarks, of which I showed him the
'*^Vf worda, nor how deeply he was A^tcttd, Like bim 1 was
^teply Afl^cted. my dear father, for all that comes from you is
'Dibued with the lanctity which destroy* the poJton which atl
priUe c<int«infc in a ^re^Ecr or iesscr dc^'^rec."
1 have mentioned Madame Craven's name, and all who are
^aaiated with her Ziyir will remember the touching ftiendihlp
*Udi united her to the subject of thlt »iketch. In her many
Ifotbte* and anxictiu the thojght of her holy old friend chef red
>^ calmed h«r, and wc find pasMgea in her journal which
*Ehih> front «rr[Eci: "ii^EQii eurlng l*4rpd« )uviin»n'» 'bKnc* (fwn JLIntti..
ihow how she lr<«Aurcd her Advice. In October.* iSs6> Ma-
dAmtt CrAVen, then At Lumigny* thuft writes: ''Friday lasl, the
IlOth, 1 Bpertl M rtcury wnh my dear Madame Swetchirc It
WJU A dAy which was. as always, useful to mc> and it was even
ciorE bcncAcIal than tisuaL ... I may know in ccming
yettre ^ook of th« hap^jintss which I -itt in liei incomparable
^xaoipte. A happiiic^s which iransComs and bcautifica old a^c*
Awl whLCh ia ifae only re^l Acd iucxhauslible happJncfA en
oAtth. 1 have not to leam what happiness is. Joubert has
wefl tald: Ms bcAren tc sbAll be no longer believer?, we
(Aball only be thinkers: let us ihcn eullivaie imelkci, bec^u^e
\\ it A diviae And eteriut gift.' Her dear, great «oul haa done
tbis. And therefore her caind i« now more vigorous tban in her
yoDth, Afid ihouf h af e vcAkens her body, the powers of her soul
wid ol bcr BiAd AEe U30fc Asd mure developed^ iiolwithstand*
t«g the cmel pkyncAl pAin she suffers: notwithstanding aorrowa
|«ttly kAOwit to hl« wbo ervAied he; tender and Urge heart.'*
A|EAM, ske Vlite* fro«B Patis ia the September of 1^57:
'^Hf doir. betewd^ Aad ttdmlrabtc friend, Madame Swetchinc.
to <lyiaC* MMJwf, tUtcr. friend she wa» all to me, my soul
■Ad k«Att avd Mwd verc aU utU^ed when 1 was near her, all
amv M pe4ci« * Hov migBcd yov are/ 1 said to her during a
l«tC 4^ wkkh I ff«iil «idi ber at Fleary earlier in the aulumn.
& ^D» KM WK tint wwd/ shA »Aid id tne. 'I do not like the
I ^m4 ** rMfCvAtVWt'' ^k^ means that we tvilf a thing and that
r«t MCtMk* It mmmhUbc which God wills. That involves a
AA(jk« of tbcwillwbkh 1 do not understand. Is it not
i«d Boe* rvAMMAblc to hAve oneself ahEoIuiely no will
W p-ttfin MufaiMii $wetchi(i«*s linal illncst Madame Craven
«^ ik*«4 wtt btf « AAd vividly describe£ the sorrowful scene,
^JUft iv«« W^ w4ikh Uadame Swetchine habiiually used* was
f<)IM litt« <MA of the ««loa>« It was a singular tuaicm and it
btttpt^ t« pvT her deathbed a speciAl Aspect. There W£is no
%Hrt% *i UbMM vi*ibJe, and she, who was .inking before us under
^ht WtiMhl v4 coowficAted di^cA^r ind her great agr, reiaintd
m tliO IaaI b«r htttltAr And deAr apprdrance. Iter dre^s wa&, as
43L«4t!rv iHrH bni not neglected. The same exquisite cleanii*
««•• Wikft Mlttal^ed. The perfume of Eau-de- Portugal, whkh
%tkf ANNiyv Uted, hamoniied with her serene countenance.
m« l»«l«rMk wlitch etMikd express such sympathy with the
^4««blM »1 Miktre, b«t ««r« iotoftovable when the (poke of her
[905'J MAHAME SlVETCHINE AXli IlEfi fUtSNDS. IJJ
ovn. never failed jn ihcir double characteristics until the last
m^fllCOt of her suJJerin^s/'
Among many well-known names that also occur as eon*
nccTcd with Madame SwelchiiiF, that of Donoso CcTtcl must
wc be omitted, oi whom h is said that he was ni^vpr more
eloquent than in her presence and whofic premature deathbed
the and Sceiir Rosalie crtnsoled, Afccr hi^ dcaLh Madame
SwclcMnc .ickn owl edged that her eyes were unless from wctp-
lOf; "at my age tcara sufHcc for that," she wr^ie sadly.
M. Otanam. M, Cochin, and M, Rio, the eloquent author
KATArt C^f/tuii, were of course included in the circle of Madame
SwfUbiDe'j ffiendi, but unfortunately little is now known of their
i«ereour«e wuh her. We have, however, left one name to the
Um which n^»(t rver bf linked with hers, that of M, de Mon-
taiemberi- Commeneing before her friendship with Pi^re Lacor-
dairt a»d cnding-^likc hi5<— only with her \\\f. lillLe yet scims io
be known of their intimacy, although a few letters are given by
M dc Fa^Ioux in his Mfm&irs. But perhaps ihc greatest teati-
attAy to his place in her ]if« is that afforded by the letter
■ritLen to him, just after Madame Swetchine's death, by M- de
Falloax. snd which contains so many touching details re|;ard-
i*( their beloved friendn Fere Lacordaire^ in his incomp-i table
liagua|{e, has aUo left us A pklufe of these last moment^^
ibta"&t last we had to lose her." "Every star must be ex-
tinpiihed here below, every treasure disappear, every soul
JHutt be recalled/' he rcRiinda ufc- " God did not spare his
■wint the agonies of death, but he left her. in order to sur-
^4Diii them, the empire which fthe had acquired by seventy-
^H years of combat. Seated in her -alon tilt the end she con-
UQurd Io receive those who loved her, to speak to (hem of
^ctitclves uid the future, to foresee And discuss everything: with
t living intereit- Her bent head would lift to show a smile,
Ae (buoil onc< more the accent and turn of phrase Inmilfar to
liM, aT>d her ejre» in their srrenity lit up for u» the touching
*ciae In which we disputed her with God,"
Her own wurds will illuHtrAle for ua what was parsing \t\
^« heroic (oui during those Ittit days^ "It is not dcstfuclion
■^oift whkh U hutcning," ihe telli ui In speaking' of death,
**bit also the libert/i the glory, the perfection of a soul which
benmts always more radiant as thnt which ia spirltuaJ absorbs
li«i which is human."
4
FEEL like a perauti in a clr«um who \s alway
trying to arrive 41 a destinniLon, and never, ncvcr^^'
c4n get there/' Lady Anae wai H&ying lomc two^^^
months Utcr to Lord Dunkverock. ''To be nuft:s^^
Italy WAS tovely, yet I grudged J<i»iikg the Iris
»pring. And now the Kami^y have closed in upon mc «nd ^
not Ul me £o,"
"You should break away," he said.
''How can 1 have the heart?" she a&ked, "$celnf thai they
all want mc ao much. And Ida n aironger than £he has b«en
for ye^rs and discovering old friends every day. And Couun ^^
Anastasia is caught into aueh a whirl of frivolfljr. The cou«ifiF^^^
arc really good to her. They are a* sweet ts they look. How ^^^
could I have the heart to shorten it all for them, becauac 1 ^
want to 4Ee how everything is geiEing on at home?" 4
The Family, the sons and daughters of Lady Cynthia'f love-
Jy KLstcTs, were as devoted to each other as the sUtera bad
been in iheir day. There never was euch a family of hand*
some young men and women, as sweet-tempered ut they were
handsome- Carelea^. smtling. kind crealuEcs, who iktd nuMbioe
all about Ihem. With people so charming, what did tl mailer
that they had no scriomness? They were meant to adorn the
world, like butterflies and birds and tlowera, and they did what
thay wcfE mc.int to do.
At the present moment Anne and her traveling compAiuont
lived In a big. old-fashioned house on the top of CtAp'
dea Hill, in the midst of a garden* Aurrounded by great t
Utd high pahngi thai shut out the world. There
not be homesick for the country, since the bitdf
morning till nighl these last day£ of their singjnfr
bull
I/£^ LADYSHiP.
*nt ro««a And \\\m, phJox »ncl iiocki and panEies in the gar-
dfn beds. Thfi true country lover might have notJcrd ihe
bJaclrncM of the trees in thcit Mems and hraTjches, The black*
r»i of the earth which seemed to have been mingled with
IME; mtghl have observed ihe curious phenonJcnoct Lhac one
could not vveo pluck a flower without hax'iog one's fingers
Stilt the garden was cbarmmg, with ils fish-pond and ahrub-
tvdcf, iu shell grotto. il$ iv^K, now protected by & bar in front,
■heie Horace Walpole had sat and talked with the Berrys,
there it was £aid George III, had jnadc love lo Lady Sarah
LfnnoK, where, carJier yet. Hurley and tiohngbroke bad met in
uojty. Cedars in that town garden bent to earth with rhcir
onn weight and had to be auppartcd under their heaviest
bunches. They stood like veterans supported on crutches,
Kr«in the houie-windows one looked down into a great pall
^ imoke that covered everything, into a wildcrncM of chim-
iievB and house-tops if it bapptned (o be early moining- The
home wat i^pacioua and rather sombre inside, but full of beau-
tifol thlngt^ It bad its ghost, a famous eighteenth century
b»my, whoKC classical features might he seen in relief above
i door in one r»l the corridors. The halls and corridors were
H^ in black and white marble. The principal staircase wa^
cf atrbJe* The walls and ceilings of the important rooms were
!iriihly decoratcrd. It bad been buiJt by a generation which
buiU houici for time, not for a day.
The delectable house was in the possession of one o1 tho
ittieit of the aunts. Lady Mary Mowbray, the widow of one
^f the richest commonera in tlngland, She had no children,
•Ml the Retreat. a£ it was called^ seemed to belong quite as
Ouch to the Family as to its owner. It was always full of a
v^t of nephews and nifcc^f, maiden aunts, and cousins. The
^Qy occitied to possess quite ^w unusual number of the lat-
Itf. elderly and genteelly poor, who basked in the benevolence
^ Ike Retreat as a starved Hower in the sun. The Retreat
^ °P * S'^* '^'^^ ^^ aervantR who had as good a time ap-
putaiiy as their betters, for if there wa% one thing the Kamdy
rould not do It waa to malte itself unpleasant, nor would i\
^*ve vnjoyed making itseEf unpleasant by deputy. So that
^ELny facet were the order of ihe *XAy ; and if you happened
to 6Dd yourAClf in th< icrvants' quarter ol the boua», which
I
«I«
ffER LADYsntr,
[Nov..
w«« A«t off hy b«avy doors, f ou mi^ht have heard the sounds
of c^ceHbl U«fht<f, or a houieraaid singing like a canary in
Lwly A4»c tdld her piny bad come to the Retr1^at origin-
■flr f^* (^ Bilht. Tbtjr had b^n m«t at Cnaring Cro&s by a
tail yuQttg csttiio vbo was in the Hou^hold Brigadt, accom <
iriMnl by « bcry of lovrly gkU who inadc the platform 01
1^ Aser M»6ott flow like a dovcT bed,
\\1iile Jack Vravr took conoiaad of things, Billy and Feg-
fj «Bd DuEce aad Pam Uid hold on th« small ariiclea with
vbkk the carcvgv waa crowded, aad, surrounding the travelers
ta a tri « iyh<a t attd OMrrr crowd, they earned tfavm o^ to the
Daiat« wUch was aoonint utd ^rgUng ouuidft.
Sock a babel of yoang voic^f Such a w^Uh of smiles!
No wqa4ef p«opl« tv»*d to star« af^er the happy party. It
«tt iapQ«dW«, M tent to Ijdjr Anae and Mrs, Massc^y And
Mbi Cktwoix. aoi to repay rach cordial and delighted greet-
(eg with coerayoBJIPC attiablliiy. The fresh, girlish races, the
alhoarvr of MOfiaM ekaJl birtw««Q them and the male cousin, the
lA|^py ?iuipniiWHTy_ were imoeuely cxhilaraTlcg. It was a
V«y lh« Fwity hftd to b« fxfailaraiiog to* duller people; and
tbty «*n IMI ckftiy ol ttactr favors, their bewildering smiles,
%hftt Ml OA tka j«*t aad anjoat tike the warmth of the suii-
^Voa ir« V*^ '^ '^'^T *i^^ ii^ '^^ * fortnight at least,
Cvttabi Amm^' mMI oae, ai the Dainkler gltded in and out the
tnHc with bcwiUenof certainty aad >pecd. " Auat Mary has
*M iMt kMtt o« it.*
'*W« kkT« *xfd op «v«p so eiany overls for you/' said
%WMktv. ^Yoa >*« we have to fo about in batches, because
ikM* 9X9 •> ■k^'iy "^ «"^ hot th«r« is an i«nriien»e deal going
iM jttH aov, td thai there if plenty for everybody to do,"
*■ 1 vi^atMl A«a« to ttop la ParU loog caough 10 repair our
iMtf^Tt^^*** hai ako »oa W aot," aafid Hrf. Hawey, who confessed
a4^«^t^* <*^ fv^Hif abaardlv exhiLaraied. " She said she could
g<rt «VH)HWm^ l« Uiklia fast at wdL I may tcU you that she
iMi i^atlf «»a«la ap hfc »lad to travel tomorrow night."
A 4^<M«« «4 ftToaaa aad pnteMationH bn ki; tmx. Troin which
Au^a UMtfkiairty it«f^«d her ««ra, Bvt sh« kn<w that her in-
\ : Ml to Mo4iat Shaadon wai already frutiratrd,
V v< , ,^^-^ tatiata tba Family anything when thay really
1905']
Hex Ladyship^
177
So behold Anne, with July aTready making the trees heavy
and dirk, still lingering in London^
She was caught, as they had said she would be, into a
whirJ of ^liely. Not only the diversions of Ihe gr«at, but lit-
tk divcrsioTi* as well- There was noching thai came to (he
pjtirtity'ft net that was not amusenient ; and while one party
ligbl be dancing at a ball in Carlton House Terrace, another
'vould be travoliit^ around London on top of a 'bus, or occupy-
ing a box In a suburban Mu^Ic Hall, or doing something eUe
wild And harmless.
Occasionally Anne broke away Irom ihem and went rif by
terself to South Audley Street, where Maiy Hyland wfis by
||b>a linas tQtE&)led with a couple of asbistauts. It had been a
summer, and Mary had felt ihe hcW o( London, which was
'»ery diflerwit here from what it was on top of Campden Hill,
Her «y«i would lijjht up as soon as Lady Anne entered the
shop. If there were customers she would Ic&vc thctn to an as-
JJttAnt white alio talked to Lady Anne in the little tlip of a
room at the bacir. L^dy Antie alw^y:* brought tlowers or a
new book. The book had an intention beyond the kindnesB,
Lidy Anne, who musi always be a bcnefactresj, remcmbcr<d
that criinAon covcfcd [*enny novtlcite, and wanted to tti^n
Mary's thtrughts to better things. Poor Mnry, who had been
called upon to delight in Mr. Yeats and his disciples, and had
■MOnd M delight without utider^tandiijg a word, had to dicp
ber beloved novelettes and talce to Mis;* Rosa Nouchette Carey
and Mra. Walford. Further Lady Anne did not afpirc to lead
ber- She was too much of a woman of action now to have
much time for literature, ^Ictioiigh Eontelimes £he returned to
her oM clfts^ical studies, and shr wanted to give Mary the very
best ahe could aspire to. that and nothing more.
To Ma^y Hyland it w;^f an extraoidinartly refrvahing thing
when Lady Anne enme into the shop. She forgot rhe days and
itghl* when she had gasped for breath, Milled for air. She had
a little Hm of her own down Fulham way. It was at the very
top of a big building. Lady Anne hud approved of Mary'e be-
ing ^ the top. but she had not known how sti^ing it wa« under
the tJate^ on which the sun had beaten all day.
In this hot weather it l»ad hardly sB#n»cJ worth while to
tary to go in pnrsuit of solid food. Who wanted to eat ic
roL, LxxaiL— 13
178 Her Ladyship, [Nov.,
such weather? Meat, too; the very thought o( meat was re-
pugnant to the delicate girJ.
She brewed herself every morning a pot of tea over a me-
thylated spirit stove in the little back room behind the thop.
Worse, she re-heated the tea at intervals during the day. She
was of the nation that escapes the worst consequences of dys-
pepsia because it does not over-eat, which when it experiences
indigestion has no name for it. The teapot had always been
her goQd friend. She had been accustomed to bavc a cup
whenever the fancy took her, and she would never have thought
of making fresh tea every time. Her assistants found a Lyons'
or an A. B. C. shop, and fed themselves more or lees whole-
somely. Not so Mary. It did not seem worth while to take
so much trouble. The lassitude of the great heat and the lit-
tle food Laid hold upon her, so that when she got home at
night as often as not she fell asleep in her chair and slept there
half the night. There were rings around her eyes and her
cheeks were hollow. Her hands were damp, her step listless.
Then Lady Anne would come in and at sight of her Mary
would forget everything — the heavy air and the troublesome
customers, the fatigue that seemed to drag her down like fet-
ters of iron. She would peer eagerly to make sure it was Lady
Anne; she was very short-sighted, but there was no mistaking
the tall, beautiful figure. The light would come into her eyes
and the color to her cheeks. She would feel suddenly as
though new life had been infused into her body.
In time Lady Anne discovered that Mary was not really
feeling very well. She discovered that the drive in a banscm
round the Park, the blow on the river, where tbey went in a
penny steamer escorted by one of the youngest, most irrespon-
sible of the male cousins, wete not enough. She had taken
Mary once or twice to Regent Street, which was Fairyland lo
the unsophisticated girl, had bought her a trinket, a chiffon*
loaded her with gifts, and driven her down to Fulbam rejoic-
ing. She had taken her to an afternoon concert, a matir^e, a
picture gallery, or sent her theatre tickets for herself and the
assistants for a Saturday afternoon. These things, for which
Mary MVis disproportionately grateful, were merely acts of com-
mon humanity to Lady Anne Chute-
But the time came when they did not suffice, when the
dark'ringed eyes and the hollow cheeks and the faint look of
iW
Her Ladyship.
179
»hiu«tion revealed themselves to l^iy Anne after the 5fit
color had ebbed out of Mary's cheeks.
" Vou've been doing loo much, child," she s^id ^n suddca
il«ncu
Miry h&d be«n working hard in tho «hop, where gte bod
proved an excclknt business womin. Koi only was busir^^t
briik, but accounts were kept with an order and r«euUr!ty thac
delighted Lady Anne ^ correBpondence, everyihing, wa* in ap-
pie pie order,
" I'm going to take you away with mc/' >he said itrpcr-
leiMly. " yiiis. Wabh mu^i get on without you for a momh, at
"Ah. not a month, your Ladyihip," pleaded Mary» "cvcfj'-
thing would be at biK^s and &evcn& in a nionlh. She's a good
little girLand 90 is Mias Lucas, but they'd get cverylhipg into
t BiCM if I wasn't here."
"They must get into a rn«5 then," said Lady Anne (irmly;
"and disentangi*! iheniiplvcB when you come back. What do
you tiippose .Mr. Randai would ^ay to tne if he $aw you look-
ing 10 white and lired ? "
"I ncvci hiid much color." Mnry said deprecatingly, "He's
uHd to mr. you 5ee^ and your Ladyship isn't. He sees noth*
in| amj» wUh mc.'^
"Where arc hi& eyes ?" Lady Anne askad heraeif with ini-
p«ti«ncc, but did not say the words aloud.
"Wc had a lov<Jy Sunday on the river in May," Mary
wftai on dreamily. She waa not at all afraid ol Lady Anne.
"Ke promised mc another Like it; but whenever hc'ji hccA
oi^er iincc bc'a been too busy. We went right down to where
Ihfre were some lovely woodjt, and we went ashore a little fur-
ifaer on and had dinner. It waa beautffult 1 loved to hear tfav
tuckoo."
" You shall come back with me to Mount Shandoun I caii'l
piOmiM you any vuckooe', but you will have woods and watery
)nd niountaini,''
"Oh, Lady Annei"
For a second Mary*B eyes looked delight- Then she sho^
her head reaolutdy.
"i couldn't be away, indeed I couldn't, for more than a
«fek. ] have promised Katty, that's Mits Walsh. 10 let her
l*ie hcc fortnight the second week in August Miss Lucas U
i3o Her Ladyship. [Nov.,
to go the 6rst of September, So you see T couldn't be spared.
Besides, indeed, Lady Anne, I'd be miserable thinking they
were all at sixes and sevens at the shop. I never was used to
holidays. I might take a week. Miss Lucas Icnows of a board-
ing house at Southend where I thought of going."
" If you won't, come to Mount Shandon, and there is going
to be a delightful party there in August, friends of my cousin,
Miss Chevenix."
"Lady Anne," said Mary desperately, "Hugh's mother —
she's very good and kind, but she doesn't chink me a match
for Hugh. Don't blame her for it. I think the same myself.
Still— "
*' She's very unreasonable," Lady Anne said kindly, looking
at the flushed /ace. " Her son knows better, you sec. I dare
say mothers often have those ideas. Then, ol course, you
wouldn't care to be at Mount Shandon since she is at the cha-
let. But you are not going to the boarding house at Southend
for all that. You are coming into the country with me on
Monday."
" On Monday I I never could be ready/' Mary protested
with fearful joy.
"That will give you a fortnight," Lady Anne said. "We
will see what can be done with you during a fortnight."
Mary sighed, as if it was delightful to have her will made
up for her.
" To be sure I must do as your Ladyship bids me," she said.
*' I wonder what Hugh will think of me. He'd go on himself
till he dropped in your Ladyship's service,"
** It would be much better for my Ladyship and my service
if he left off before he dropped," Lady Anne said. "And I
don't mean you to go on till you drop. Be ready for me at
eleven o'clock on Monday^here, or shall I call for you at FuU
ham ? "
" I shall be here. But — but— where is your Ladyship going
to take me ?"
"That is my secret," Lady Anne said firmly. "Anyhow^
it's a delightful place, ever so much nicer than a Southend
boarding house."
"To be sure. I couldn't think of your Ladyship in iuch ft
place as that," Mary said with a shocked air.
I5os0 if£f^ Ladyship. i$j
Chapter XIV,
THE OLtf tOVR.
ThU matter of giving Mary HyUn*3 a holiday, and seeing
Tti4i »he enj<*ycd ii, made a further deky about returning to
IreUnd,
" Vou won'c mind ?" Lady Annt eaid to Mrs. Maisey. "You
Ke ihcrc will be a good deal dom^ here for ihc next uji diy&,
W icjit, when A good many of lh«m go off to Scotland. Aunt
Htry gocf to Wiesbaden about the ?oih. It wouM be a gra-
riouB Act if yoG and Anaeta&ia u^ould stay on a bEl, I know
■he would [ike \lt and Anastasia would help to ent^riAln th?
oJd cousins,"
"1 should enjoy a quiet time with Lady Mary." Mrs, Mas»
Iff ;iniwered- "Those young folk have nearly tired mc out.
Would you have believed that I could have so rackctled? To
be snre I couldn't have, iT tbey hadn't taken such care of me,
like dcatj kind toa* arid datighters. tiifitead of unrelated youlli
ArlI beauty ■ittoched to a dull, old, semi -invalid woman,"
'"For the ffiAtCer of that, they adore you. You Icnow ihey
ttfinj jrou their lecrels. And I'm afraid you encourage them,
Hcwdo yo^ suppose it \s ever going to come to anything be-
lw«en Kenneth and Lucy ? His pay as a lancer just abnut keeps
bicfi hit butlon^holes. And Lucy can have an elderly duke if
ibc bait the mii]d>"
"L«dy Mary and I arc putting our heads together about
f^?nneth- Why shouldn't he come tome? I'm gettins too old
to manage For myseif^ And the house ^rowa Ii>rieher. It
would be dilTcrent wUh chose two in it"
"He doesn't know anything abouc business."
"He will never m^ke a diplomatist- And he loves a ^Q\xn-
I'y llf«. He will learn the business"
"You'll be arranging for Douglas and Winifred oext. I
^q'i approve of marrrai^es of cousins/'
"Nor do U Besides it's unfair to keep so mut^h beauty
tad iDiEsbillty \n one family. However, you haven't told me
*li7 you are making this sodden excursion down to the Courts
I itnoiiir you refuicd Mrs, McUor And it will be very qui^t
^frc, it beiag hor first yi;ar of widowhood."
i82 Ner Ladyship. [Nov.,
*' I shan't object to the quietness." (Lady Arnie sighed with
M. thought that it would b« nearly autumn before she could get
back to Mount Shandon. What a lost summer! in despite of
Genoa, Florence, Venice, and Rome. Only that morning she
had had a long letter from Hugh Randal. The draining of the
bog was going on satisfactorily. They were diverting the water
into a deep channel that ran away to the sea. Some of the
nppsr parts were already becoming quite firm.) "And if it
were not quiet, Miry would hardly be happy there."
" Mary ? "
"Mary Hyland. She is looking terribly ill, Ida. I never
saw it till to- day. This summer has taken it out of her, poor
child."
*'She never had much to lose/' Mrs. Massey said a little
drily. She had seen Mary and talked with her before they had
gone abroad, and her devotion to Lady Anne, built up on so
little, fostered, she felt sure, by that young man who ought to
have kept all his devotion for herself, had remained with Mrs.
Massey as a touching memory. "She never had much to lose-
Why doesn't the young man marry her?"
" Oh, 1 don't think there is any thought of marriage.
Besides, Mr. Randal is going to America for me this winter.
You know the Washington Exhibition opens on the first of May
next year. Mount Shandon is going to make a fine show there.
He won't be able to call his soul his own till it's over."
"1 grant you that wouldn't be a satisfactory state of mind
for a newly married man," Mrs. Massey said, in a voice which
somewhat annoyed Lady Anne. Did Ida think then that she
was to marry the couple out of hand ? They seemed very well
content to wait. People generally had to wait. Look at Dun-
laverock and herself. Did she feel the waiting long? On the
contrary, she was very well content.
"There is nothing the matter with Mary," she said aloud,
^' only the heat of the summer. She was sure to Eeel it."
"Send her back to Ireland."
"Tt would break her heart. She is absorbed in the work."
"Only for your sake. She is a quiet, housekeeping Utile
body. Her ideal happiness would consist in keeping a little
house for a husband and children."
"She will have that presently. When they are ready, I am
going to build them a house. I've got to reconcile Mrs. IU<
«905.]
HER Ld^vsmr,
'83
to ibv idea of Mary ^« a daughrcr-tn-law- Miry tells mc that
the ddci not think her good enough-"
*'Sliifwuuld be ^ood enough for :ifiy one. with those eyes,"
M*r)- was ready pimciLially on the Monday when Lady Anne
ct(i<d for her h was <l wondeiful journey for h?r into Su^acJC.
It WDutd have been happincj^a enouKh tnr her 10 have been with
fjidyAnne: to be thoii|{]it for ac kindly; occasionally to meet
a »inUc from Lady Anne, sent 10 her from behind a book or
paper, Bjt the country i^htch unfolded itself not so long a(r«r
th«y had ]«f( Victoria wa» wonderfully Ire&h and beautiful. The
ptrkft and open Apa«<£ of London had been burnt red- Thi£ was
nn: Iha country Maiy knew. It was something richei, more
IttKuriofll. more garden-lJIre. Now they were passirg golden
c<>rnflcldi with the Snrrey HklU on one side. Again they wercr
r«Dniog past p«rlc-UndE, studded with beautiful wide spreading
oalea. f^ooiciimcs there \vas a little river Howtng through ru^hea
and und«r tiw moored leaves of water liliesn Again there wa»
a Tillage and a church tower. There were fed and white cattle
feeHJTig (jn qoiet upland pastures^ or h herd of deer fljiny auay
before the roar and rattle of the train. There were old inanor-
hdu*ea in the beautiful park*, «omei!mr& revealing tbctn^elvca b;
a langle of tvitied chimneys above the treF*: of the park. Or^
tbete ir» a picturesque farmstead; or a nursery with many-
colored dowera set out in a bright mosaic, and xt^vi^ of ^Uss
The color came to Mary's cheek and the Ught lo her c>f.
"It** lovely," she «aid, "though it isn't like Irelaod at aJl."
wben l^dy Anne looked from behind her newspaper to atlc ber
she liked iL
Mr*. McUor*s landau met chem» with the Iddy herself. She
looked pala and worn in her widow'« bUck, but her face lit i>p
as she caug^hl sight of Lndy Anne.
"I am so gUd you changed yotir mind afier ill. Nan/' the
nid, slandicg by the cariiA^e door — 5be had met them oil Ihe
pla.fortn— to allow her giieat:* lo precede her "And I am »o
glad to vce MiM Hyland. \ hope she will cot find it too
dflll/'
"Oht" %^\^ Mary, innocently hhoeked at the id», "i« it
with yoa end Lady Anne > I never deserved 10 be >o happy."
Stic proved, indeed, to be the most unexacting of vinitors.
Tbe children bad on amiable head nurse, very wi»c and iruU*
i
w
*
worthy, with a young under-nur^e ivhom Mrs. Iluggmf uted lo
lefar lo biUerty as " 'Er with the curls/*
An immediate aiuchment sprang up between Mary and the
children. Rc>bm> the eldest child, a boy with the beauty of
his mother and something of Ihe seriousness of hi& father, ran
to h\s mother on the tcnace the very mofning a/ler Mary's
jirrival to i$k il Miss HyJand could come out with them, "bc-
cAuse she's such a darUn}^-" Mary's eye£ seconded the reque^I,
which of course was granted.
She came in that first day with a color id her cheek which
St firtt pcti^sed for sunburnn It was not sunburn, but the relucn
ol health. The children were out all day, aomctimcs picnicking
in the woodSn It became an established ihing for Mary to go
out with th«m. Mrs. Hu^gins greatly approved her. She was
so Identic and ^ulel, so ready to play with the children, so full
of fairy stories to tell them, sitting on a fallen tree trunk when
they had pkycd enough. For the whole fortnight the weather
continued in^ir. except ior a sharp ihunder'Storio fjnc ni^ht. l-'or
the fortnight Mrs. lluggins was able to leave ihc erring Jesste
at hotne, to mend her stockings, and otherwise re|>air her ward-
robe, which, according to M:^. Huggin^n was in & parlour con-
dition.
[t was all so deliclously peaceful — Mary's mtmoijcE of it
afterwards were of a. tunny glade, dappled with light and sha-
dow; an old womnn sitting on a mossy tree-lrunk^ ^pectac!e»
on no»c, a work-basket beside her, a piece of needlework in her
hanfle; the children playing in and <iut the pillait of the trees>
or grouped in a demur* quietness upon the mnssy ground, while
»Ue tried to remember the old itories to tell them. " The Black
Bull of N oru way ** was a prime favorite, although it was run
hard byiiuddcn and Dudden and DanVl O'NcilT' and " Kair,
Fale, and Trembling." Also she made acquaintance with the
children's favorii« books, with Hans AnderEcn aud Grimm, with
^/i.v and TArtm^A lh< /.aahii^'CUsi, with 7Jif Jun^U Baeks.
Sometimes they went for delightful moTcr drive^n «rd pulled
up at inns in the midst of forcft^, as it seemed to Mary, arid
had rustic teas in delightful gardens.
Every day the rose in Mary's cheek bloomed a liltk more,
gained in color, becAme more settled.
Mri- Mrllor hnd a br^auiiful idea.
" I wish she would come to mc/' she liaid, " Sbc cculd f^\\-^
I90S.)
HER LADYSmf,
i»5
Robin hU first lesaoos. Huggics cao neither read nor wrile,
which expUinc her efTi^iency, no doubt. Since IJuggtnA ha^
uk«o to h«r, tl]« ari« diHiculljr uould b« removed. What do
jroB think?*"
l-Ady Anne had an easy mind,
<'It »ijcd» dcliKhcfuV' she £aid; "ask her.''
Mrs. Mcilof look Ihc first oppoftumly. The color c*mc and
went in Mary's cheek.
"It ha& bc«n the happiest fortnight of my life/' she burst
Dui ioipulsivtly. '* But — but'— I couldn't Ickve her Lady&hip."
"I believe you knew it, Anne/' Mrs. Mdlor said, lurning
lo her coiiain. "And i was thinking hov good you wct^ to let
iDp disk her."
"Oh, Mary wouldn't leave tne," Lady Anne said, smiling ai
Mary with tb4l triumphant confidence of her$, while Mary
bluU;cd like a girl in ^ove-
"You must take care o£ her." Amy McUor said later, "acd
you C3U$t jce that ^hc takes care oi hcrseU. Certainly the Couit
bftl done woiidcTi Jot her. She setins lo Iqvc ihe country eo
nueh that London life must be ijariicnlarly trying to her. By
Ibe Wfty. I Thought yi^ lold me that she was engaged."
-So bhe i*. "
" Vel ^e sftid her time here had been the hAppi«flt of her
8k- U didrv't sound right for an engaged giiL'*
"Oh, Mary is impulaive. She wouldn't slop to think. By
the way, Amy, J have had a Icrllci from Dunlaverock/'
"I know. I saw his wtitirg on one of your envelopes."
"He is coming to London thinking that t will be there.'*
"Ye*? Vim ar« going back on Monday, In my grief,"
"He will be in London to-morrow. He proposed to iravel
bade to Ireland with us next week- He will be lost among the
eon»Jn?i (ill Monday. They will do Lheir bfst, the dear?, but
he wili be At aca among them. I thought perhaps that he
might come on bere-"
L<idy Anne had been very IJIlTe among the ramily, or she
would bAvc known better than to make such a vujgcslion^ As
a oattcr of fact, she had not known that Dunlaverock had
been ia love with hia conain. Amy, and that the latter wa»
luppoied to have jilted him for the wealihly Mr. Mrllor
She W4K looking iiraighc at Amy Mcllor as she made the
*ug(-e»i|joD, and saw the blood ru^h lo the pa,lc cheek.
-T
L A —
^Is
190^.]
JtKft LADYSHiP.
187
be iniimatc wilh Amy Mrllor that her grief far hrr husband's
death was d
cep
and sincere.
Lady Ann* found Dunkverock, as she bad expected, gr imly
rt^roachful of her,
"What did you mean. Anne/' he asked, "by leaving m«
ftith Biy gray hain among those children f If they'd only Jet
mc alone 1 But they arc so amiabJe, they woLild enterUin me.
1 »p«nt ycslorday evening at iht^ J^ippodrome. [ felt Hk? an
tMi^iDpaihctk bachelor unctc out with the chiEdren.
*' I looked to Ida to save yo\x from that."
"She was absorbed in the dancmg dogs nnd the trnined
elephani^ She shrieked over Ihe antics of that litllc clown,
Marceline. Once or twice £he sent mc a reptoftchfuJ glance,
by which 1 knrw that 1 Looked a skeleton at Ihe baniiui^t."
L^dy Anne laughed^
"Remember that we cateh the Iri^h mail at Euston at
d:45r and b« consoled/* she said.
" Alftstnir/' ihe 'aid, twenty-four hotirs laier. They were
vaJkli^ up and down ihe terrace zx Mount Shandon, It wanted
half'an hour of the dressing-belf, and tfugh Randal was com-
ing to dinner, lo give an account of bis eicward^hip. ■' Ala^
iu<r, when I stayed with Amy she eaid once that you disliked
ber. It U not possible? She nnist havt bt^en miAtaWen "
Hi» brow clouded over alarmmgly, so thai another woman
Ihait L^idy Anne might have been frightened. Lady Anne
looked at hini wilhoiil flmching, ili* airier went to cunliim A
theory which had been opening up in her mind-
"Vou and Mrs. Mellor did me too great an honor In dlt-
cu»^ng me/* he *aid slrfiiy,
"We didn't/' Lady Anne's direi^tiicss became at times ab-
rupt nctn ; and the little di^cUimer now came oddly abrupt. '*]t
was only that I wanted to aik >ou dovtn from Friday to Mon-
da}- to save yovi from the Ilippodfome and all ihe rest of at.
And Amy said you would not come, that jon disliked her—
that vat all, or pretty nearly all/'
For a moment or twc there wa^ ^ilrnce, L^Hy Arine'^ con-
tent in looking over the beloved landscape, down the valley to
tbe si1v«r Aca, wac eo great thtt her «>ualn*s ni-:«a)pe; dlj-
kturbed b«r bal vaguely. It waa so good lo think that she was
\cV again at last, thai iihc wn^ g^^ng to be at home till the
ItrMtf iho^ld decide to go away again, and that wa^ a dcci'
i
I$$ H£ft LADrSUit". [Nov.,
fiicn she had no intention cf making for many and many a
long day. Already sh* could sec Ihe gash the channel fo/
the bog dfamage hsid made in her park. There were many
men working on it. This year the men had not needed to go
to tllc harvest in Kngland, and her name was b^ing praised in
the villager and the lonely cabins dotud here and there about
the hillside and through \\\*t valley.
"The channel will take two years in the making/' ehe said
A3 though she vierc dont uilh Ehe other subjecf " 1L \^ill be
quite a nver when ihtf bog waters fusb down 3I to the eea — a
golden river/'
"You wiU be draining the upper reaches of the bog^." he
said, still with a sullen voice. "a« well as yottr owr land. It
will be a long time before your reclaimed beg will be fitabJe."
''I know it; but it will be *uble in lime. I like the difS-
cutty. I like wrescrng the land back from the ha^, 1 see
homes where the bog is."
" It will not be In two years," he said, throwing cold water
on her enthiisiasm. "Not for many years. In two years — do
you remember that in two years your answer to me will be
due?"
"1 remember/' she said, and no color came to her dark
cheek.
" 1 can have no secrets from the woman I hope to marry,"
he said, his glonm lighting a little. *'] do not mind confess-
ing to you, Anne, that I was once in love with Amy Mellor.
More, she wa£ in lave with me, or ^aid she wa^. 1 had not
Biren the title at the lime I went to fndia with nty regjnient-
She wrote to rnc for four months. I was the happiest young
fool Alive. Then a letter came. I can remember it all ao
well^the heati the haie, the copper- colored skylit was just
before the monsoon. I was like any other young fool. I
kissed the letter before 1 opened (i. Thcn^t was to say that
I was 10 iliink of her no more, that she was marrying Mr.
Mellor in a fortnight's time- T can hear the jiackala crying
outside the comjjouud and the steady creaking of the punkah
AS it moved- I beg your pardon, Anne."
He broke ofT abruptly. In the brilliant light from th«
goldea evening aky his face had gone gray; moijture had
Cdnte out on his forehead.
"f beg your pardon, Anne." he said; "it ig ancient his<
190^1
Her ladysh/p.
\^
toTj. It will never afTect you, I swear. I thought I cculd
Dtvcr b«1i«vc in a wQman again, but I believe in you."
"Tbaok you, AUstair. I am noc alarmed about my plice
fa your — *' She had been about to say " heart/* but she eub&tt-
iut«d "affection." " Only." she went on, " hJiving known Avc.y
u you did, having loved her> how did you come to Gondcmn
ber? Poor Amy — il would have been obvii>UB to xne Ihat she
was a victim, not a wrong-doer"
" It was obvious to me that she was her mothcr^s daughter,"
he »»d with bittern«£S- " Vou know* oi perhaps yon do ctot
know, that Lndy Sylvia HiJton wa& Iht cause of a young man's
suicide when she was no older than twenty-two. I dare say
he wa£ a rather &oft'hcadcd youth, but he was t^fmlEf^ and
the only khxi of his mother. Jt \s a scandal the fcrtiily dors
not lallc about. Hilton revenged the poor chap anyhow, for
Lftdy SylvU bAvIng gone thn ugh the wood picked up the
crooked stick at last/'
" Aunt Sylvia has no heart. She only cares for imua«-
Dcnt- But Amy is very dilfercnt- 1 am sure, Alaslair, that
there wa« some great wroctg in all that bu^Ines^ to poor Amy
4a wdt a« to you/'
" Voti have wondciful failh^ Anne. And. even yt\" — his
gloomy eyc« lil up — "I ah(^uld be glad if 1 cculd ukc your
view. Ferlmpa I ought to bhve wrung the truth out of Lady
iSytrLa. But what did cl matter after all, SEGtng that Amy wu
tarried / And I discovered thai life was not ovrr for me.
The lirtt time I saw you, Anne, I said to myself that you were
'xcd'truc and b]«dc-&iraitht.' llcfofe that 1 had bc<n saying
It aH wcmen were liars."
He lipoke the la&l Ecntences as thou(,h he made her an
U she understood she pasErd tt over. She did not
Vrartt to talk, or to hear him talk about ber»elf.
"I believe Aunt Sylvi;L wun ut the botli^m uf it," «h« aaid.
'"Amy is sweet to all the worid except to Uer mother. Is it
lot Mranse that a ploui, charitabie, church-going wcnun Itkc
ly should be sweet tn all the world except tv her own
'mother^ Amy't manner to hcri cold and gentle, would break
>A ordinary mother's hcftrl/'
" I have gone on so lonp believing that she betrayed me,"
he Mjd, with a curioiLfl* wAvcring smile, '*\\\si\ tt wovikl be
vrry strange M I had to alter that opinion^ One might con-
isos-l
ifEii LADYS/itP.
19"
lie feeding »a one. stmu]lane«Lisfy fiTopp«i], ;inii Palsy, ttie
youni^ft. who was sfrnsUivc, ^Lddenly rtiasolv^d in tears, pro-
I»clng through the bread ^nd butler, with i«hlch his nicuth
va^ iilkd. Ihat she, indicaling Lady Anne, had !6aid he wag tQ
fO on ft'ish his lea, so she did-
Evcryihing had gone well. It was a great fruit year, Glory
b« to God, and the people's harvest was wonderful. The eaily
pe*5 w«re over In the Icilchcn garden : hut I-inchan, the gor-
dcGcr, had stilt several rows of the Ulcr variety ccmirg on,
ind there were beautiful French heans rear^y for her Lady-
ihip's tabJp- Kalty Concety, the hen-wife. hfici never had such
« yeif for good broodf. There ^vas some luck ever the 5um-
eaer. s\ic declared. Tile hives were fti)] of honey ready (o be
taken. The Kerry cowg were in beautiful tnilk. Noihirg had
bctn neglected in Lady Anne's dairy, as she could we iot her-
mU, aye, and smell too, said Mji^gic BHec, the dAir>inaidj
while l-ftdy Anne stood In Ihe fragrant place, liMening id ihc
t«rc Falling of water.
She UvUhcd prii^se as she went. No one could say that
things had not prospered without the tniatrcss' eye. Vtl
things had had to g*^ '^^ preliy well of themselves, since Mr*.
Nugent, the housekeeper, who wag getting pa^t her work, had
been all, and had gone to Kilkee for n month by her Lady-
ship's orders,
"Sure 'tis over joyed we are lo do our best by your Lady-
ship,'* Maggie, the dairymaid, laid in unfiW^r to Lady Anne's
oooimenclatLontf,
" I wint to Misther Kindal whin I wanted anythirg I hadn't
got/' the gardener taid. '* He was in an' out like a (log at a
fair. You'd think he bad enough on his hands."
SheiEs. the red seEter. and her puppies ^an^boUed at L^dy
Add^'v heels with Dermod. tlte wullhound, and Rake and
Rovef, Ihe Irinh terriers, and Tip- pip, the French bulldrg.
Aod FriEx, the llltlv SchJpperke, which was ihe last gift of
ibe coiuirs to Lady Anne^ kept by her shirt, pushing out Ihc
older frienda with an impudence which only c?iUrrT!e magna-
nlniity could forgive,
'*You look at fresh as paint," Mrtv Maaf^ey fAid, coming in
rather wearily to the drHwirg^room as Ihe dinner bell bounded.
"You don't mean to say that you h^vc been keeping awake!
Ah, how do you do, Mr, Randall I wanted Lady Anne to
193
HF.R LADYStf/P.
[Nov.
atay a night m Dublin. Hut her paiUnce bad come to the
end of Its tethefi''
"II would have been a day and nighl," Lady Anne said
deprccatingly, ''Poor Ida! But you will sleep so much bcl'
tcr in Ihc fresh atr than you would ha.pc done in Dublin.
Why did you get up for dinner?"
'* Because," Mf5. Massry laughed, *' do you suppose no-
bodj- haj the home-toming Ueh'ng but yourscif ^ To be sure
I hAVe only AOmc miserable doga w^aiting to devour Tn« with
joy when I get home; but I h&ve lo put my house m order
iox those young people. What did very well for me won't do
for Kenneth and Lucy/*
'*Ah, yoa will flpoil them, I foresee/' said Lady Anne,
"What do vou ihink, Mr. Randal, of Mrs. Massty's bringing
ov«r a young Euglifhnian, wiih no uatning at all, to look
a.ftcr her property and her tenants and lake a hand at the m-
duGlries ? I&n't if wildly unpractical > '*
'^ He'll m^ke mtEtake^, but he'll come out nil r»ghi In cime,
if he's the right sorl," the young man ansA^ered^ in his soft,
eager way- " 1 wouldn't like to be having them with the
wrong knowledge, T(s better to know norhirg,"
'Til answer for it thai they wgn't be able to resist Ken-
neth, anyhow," Mrs, Mzk^i^cy sdd, contentedly.
(to us COM'lprUKD,)
HOPE AS A I-ACTOR OF RELIGION.
£»¥ o. i'vimu.L, aj.
'OPE presupposes the desire or Aome difficult end
whose aUimmenl \b uticerlain. Tl con&Uu in a
sort of vuhinlary deni^f of Ihis uncertainly ; in
a senticnent of happy exptctAncy counler to the
dcpressiorj fear, and anxiety which uncertainly
Wtui-^Uy ^cndcra. H Ll Is to be not meTciy a \a^y oplimiEin,
ihc reiuit of n ^Hnguine teirpcrament and " truBl-to- your-^uck"
■providence, the sentiment must have tcme rationil basis,
'bis it may e4*ily have wlitrc hope is simply the ctijTtclive of
le wholly irrntional fear vi a drspon(3cnt and nielantho'^ ra-
ture. But In such c&ses the degree of unceruinty of sitsln-
iDvnt which bope supposes, does not properly exist at all.
There is no creflit in not being foolish. The b^si^ of hope^
like that of Uitb, is not found in a fcaaoned calculus of odds,
but in 4n intuilioa, cr perhaps, in an intuitive inference draun
frnoi the totality of our experience, in virtue of ceTtAin moral
diipositionit which make us perceive that to which v,'t were
else iosensible. It i* like our faith and irusl in Lhe chatacier
of another, which is often as (rue a perception as anything we
»ee with our bodily cyrs> Vet a cynical cr ungenerous soul
wouUl b« blind to what, for us, is a pateot faci. Faiib and
bopff in the All, in God and the ^n^orld, are no less intuitive,
no Icis dependent on a certain moral sensibility ; on a sort of
tympathy of cbaracter between ourtelvcs acd that All. As a
"religious*' virtue, hope has to do with the difficulties of our
univerw] life — of the life of disinteresifd justice and charily
with ail its entailed diiEies of abstinence and er.durance. As
has been said, it is not pain as ntchf that mari qui happiness;
bvt idk pain, or excessive pairii or cise the trar of not btirg
ible to hold oLtr till the paia is conquered firmly and c^eciiveJy
by the ovcrbaEance of love, Hope ia the corrective oi itiete
very doubts and fears; ^nd thereby enables us to foretaste the
voc txxxtL — I J
tQ4 Hope as a Factoa of relicion, [Nov.,
jojr of altBiTniKfnl \\ creates a conviction that Ihe pairj en-
dured for joslicc's £ak« arc rtot idJe ; and That if vlc hold out
Ibey will become firet iGferable, and finally, ivetconie, as con-
stituents oj the perfect life and action. Above all, it convinces
ui that vit ian hold out; ^nd this is its chief fierviceabic ncst-
U is notonouf, to physicians of body and adut aPikc, that
power is of no use to u? unfr** wc bclic\-c that we pos<<*9 it;
that this bclici ^Iberaife it and biings it into play- Av irra-
tional conviction of powerle»Eiie^£ produces a false paralysis
who^c cure must be ^vroughi. through the mind, by a coumcr-
conviction. A relatively irtaticnal belief in one's powcrf has
oflen brought them i?ut beyond all thiit was reasonably likely.
Hence the immense educative impctriaacc of hope and self*
encouragement: and the corresponding danger of self-depres-
tiof], Icssiini i/ai'ii posse vidrnttir* \b not always Inie; we can-
net always do what we believe we can do; but we certainly
cannot do what we believe we cannot do ; even were the force
of omnlpolcnce a\ our di&poaaf* Life i& possible becau^Cr is a
rute, vfK begin with a belief in cur omnipotence and learn our
limicAtlons experimentally^ rather than the other way about
Did we begin with a conviction of (titer belpletEnrff we should
never make the experiments that would dispel the illnsioa
The end, whose desire is tlie presupposition of religious
hop«> it that perfect and eternal life of the souf which conEistii
in a continual and progressive overcomtog of Nature In the
interests of Spirit, a labor tn which pain is no longer felt as
pain but as an jae'c<li«nl ^^ a- viciorioua bliss; Irt which death
is swallowed up in victory- Translated into other terms, it is
the entrance of the soul into the joy of its Lord, into a shar-
ing oi the divine life bo Tar as that life is made linite for our
comprehension. That in itseif it infinitely transcends this^ is
undenifiblc; that tt must contain all this equivalently, is no less
undeniable, if we are not to fay that eternal life is simply
jnknowable^a mere bundle of negations. Eternal life is, At
least, life and not lethargy. If we cannot, as God does, know
and enjoy it all at once or ever compass its jojs; yet wc can,
like him, j*osiess it all at once; and it \& this, as it were, sub-
conacjous senile of the inamissibLe possession of a treasure, ever
to be explored, never to be exhausted, rather thin any purely
'A dim tan, tien^H liv twlirv--^ hi ^4n.
Hope as a Factoh of Reugion.
i«5
^intscent fruittoc, that distinaubhes the iol of tlie tomptx-
ifuar itom that oi the vtaCffr.
AUhoujjh this highcEt life lE| in some ser&c, ^ life of com-
plete 3clf-forgcifuInes5 and devotion to universal good, yet it
i? ihit in which the spiritual nature of the subject attains
it$ fullest cxpanaion and blessed ncsB- It i& more bks^ed Xq
iwc than to receive, and the divine life rs cs^entiAlly a life of
9t\i giving and self- sacrifice as revealed to us in tbe ChrtBtiHn
crucifix^ He who loses his Hfc shall find it, r ^,, be who give£
sp se«ltmg an isolated happineEs and looking afler himself fx-
cept in order to be better able to look after others, shall find
bis iTae ftelf, which is a joiot-self ; and his true happiness, which
is a JQint- happiness. Long before wr realiKc this expcrimen-
lally to any great extent, we can know it and act upon ii^ we
can know that uoselfiihnosfi !s oui best interest We can de>
sire And long to purge oiit our scEfishiies-'^ and In enter into ihe
eternal and universal file; or to enter into it more fully, We
mult perhaps have, in some incidental way. tasted a Uiilc of it
in ordiif to wlsIi for mure; and the more we get oi it the
more we shall want to get.
It is, therefore, as satisfying this subjective need and dc-
>ire that eternal life j« Ibt object of our hope,
As to the difficulty of attainment there can be no doubt.
The sacrifices and pains entailed by the stages in advance of
IhoM already reached, are evident and itnaginable; whereae the
fovc tbat converts them into factors of }oy i? not easily intel-
tigiblv or rea]i»ble. Hence the future dif^culty looms biggvr
thftfi U is, being measured against our present strength. And
this, combined with rxpcrience of our daily feeblcnei^s niid tn-
eonsUncy, makes attainment not merely uncertain but almost
endlessly Improbible; whence a sentiment of depression and
vaervatiuK diigCiJiiragement The ba&is of the hope by which
this discouragrmcnt is to be ousted, must be sought in a wider
4fid Ifd^r view of ourselves as sharing a general life, ai organs
of a living whole whi^h works in us, and through us, to univer-
sal ends; and to whose working is due whatever aspirations
towards, or mcisurc of. the eternal life have already been teal-
ited in us. An individualislie philosophy, fostered by practical
itgoisrn. Cuts us off from all sen^e of sharifig in the general life;
li&d if it timers us at times with an illusion oi independence
I
19* liOrS AS A PACTOfi OF XE/.IG/OA'. (Nov..
uid ««l{ suffickncy, it filU us in greater spiritual ctise^ with a
sense of isolation and weakness. However much the higher
life be the work of our own freedom, so far nit it depends on
our sirenuoui t!o-operation with bctrcr aspirations^ yet those
aspkationa ihemstlvca are given lo us- " I live, yet pot I but
Christ Uveth in me"; expresses a univti&al law of the spiTiluat
worM» so Inr n^ Christ stands for the divme Itfe, for thai com-
noa lo^c which is the strength and motive force of spiritual
growth.
It %s much encouragetnent for one who, perhaps, in solitude
has developed in interest in some matter of public advantage
to which he would willingly devote hia life, were it not for a
sense of hclplessueBi, to recognize that his inspiration really
derives from a spirit that h abroad and which is tfispirlng
thousands in just the same way; to feel that he is passive a*
well as active, that he is aUcr all but the organ and vehicle of
a force that i? as invincible as the laws ot nature. And this U
pre-eminently illustrative of that perennial movement which
cleaves huntdo Utc in Iwaio — -of th[it .tapiiation a.itcT the htgher
life of the 50ul, the life of spiritual and mcral action. "You
have not ehoien me, but I have chosen you," expresses our
relalion to that spirit of universal love which is ever striving
with our spirit ol narrow self regard. There is always and
flvcrywhere a Godward movement abroad, and ibe whole at-
mosphere of humanity is filled with InsenBible gcims ol this
higher life. But in (ruth, jf it ik walccntd and fo&terrd from
outside by educational intiuenc^s. it has its root in those deep-
est spring* of our spiritual being where we seem to mahe one
thing with God and with the whole spiritual world of whose life
our OM/n is but one manifestation.
Here then is the source cf our courage— that behind us
stands God and the whole spiritual world : that the upward
movement we (eel within ourselves, however shghl, rfcrJves not
from ourselves but from an inftnile and invincible power which
i^ using u!( for its own irresistible ends.
This conviction that we arc fig^hting with God an^^ the
spiritual universe in a divine and univertal cau$e, and not sin*
gly against infinite oddt for an end of our own, is maaifeslly
not given us by bare reason working on the data of physical
perception; hut by faith; by a view of life as a whole, as it
I
i9H'l
HOPB AS A Factor of Rel/g/o/^,
191
APP«aU to c^mSn moral aenKLbilities. Indeed faith too 15 a
seme of our drpeniiriicc on the divine thai is wiihjn and be-
jrood u*- There arc usics, convktions, to which wc are pro-
pms^ by hertdity. nnd which w« owe to our soUdarity with
llic net from which we spring and uot to the workings of om
own brain; what wondef. then, if the influente of the consensus
of ctemicjr be f«lt within us as something above ns. ae ioaac-
lUns cocnmandtng the reverence of our (inder«[aniling for a
4iain»cr and yet higher light already dawning in us, nnd whoK
fall day may put to llighi many a shadow that we deemed suh-
stastialt U wc are indeed thus organit^ally conneclett with the
vhole spiritual *orld and ilt movfrmcni; U ^at best life coa-
tjita in ucrifidng ourselves to Its tntefeats* and our highest
revard be lo thare its triumphB in the measure that we have
grieved ovef iU wounds nnd striven to heal Ihcm, it is plain
that its blood must circulale in our veins, that we oiusi receive
from il more than we give lo i1. that thb coromerce of give-
and-take lA A necessary condition of our individual life and
meogth^ Hence in the Christian religion hope entails certain
dutkCA which may be grouped together under the general idea
o| prayer whereby this dependence of the part upon the whole
U acknowledged and acted upon. It were a misconception to
r«gard prayer aa. in any sense, a trouble saving device, where-
by the wori( that wc can do, and in Ihe doing of which our
bkghcit tile consists, is lifted on to other shoulders and oB our
ovo. [t> end it limply and only to increase in ua that love,
dcflrc. and hope which make^ greater exertion poEsihle and
e>^n pteaiurabIC' What wc hope for and pray for 19, in the
language of religion, grace here and glory hereafter; but grace
il explained tttt charily, or thai divine and disiiiterc&led love of
all which animate} up to endure and abstain for the sake o(
all^ and glory it explained as the perfecilon of grace; that ]*>
ai tove made perfect and purged of all fear of failure and pur.
suing its course of unbroken victory over death ; as a bird
fnllfiedged, no longer fluttering uncertainly on tired and awk-
ward wings, but speeding ict way joyoudy and steadily over
tea and land, unconscious of the cea&eles^ battle it is wa^-irig
vitb the resivtance of the atmosphere.
1(1 Itt c4»entJal notiot}, as here understood, prayer l& a
voluntary attitude by which we accurttinodate and subject uur-
i
<9»
HOfS AS A FACrOX OF ȣUCIQS\
iNov.
■dve* Bore perfeal^ to ibat spiritual orgsftism wliMe life wc,
u oosibvrf, flbarc, awl desire to share Povrc fully* Tbc atti-
ttttk of »elf Bvfficicacy aotl false iodepeodeiKc c«ts us off from
that con»ciotuness of BBity whkh is ibc source of hope md
slren^^h aod through which we arc pmnealcd by the energy
and vitality of ibe whole. The caeie of all maicrial progre^
b tlte fact that, by a better understaodiDg of the tawa of tbat
pbyiical nature to which our bodies belong, we can perfect
our onton with nature, we can mulnply and enlarge the veint
and arteries and nerve; and muscles through which we draw
upcfl her resources and appropriate her strength.
And in the spiriliaal order, the funcliDn o! praj'tr \n the
wideit >eaie, U aLiogetber analogous to this.
I
THK HOLY HOUSE OF LORETO;
BV SERTF^N'D L. CONWAY. C.S-P,
*HILE giving; misfitoits to non-Catholics in many
of our large cities, I have frequently been qtjcs-
lioncd, Ihtough the medium of Ibe QueatJon
Box, about ihc Holy House of Loreto. Intctli-
gcni laymen — both Cacholtc and non-Caibolic —
have i^iiw and ±gam denied the alleged traci&lation oi the Hcly
Hoase from N^z^rcth to Dsilmatia and Italy, eithei an tbc score
of its intrinsic improbability, or because of the tacit of historical
evidence- I remember especially the indignation of one uni-
versity professor — a Catholic — who had been informed by his
pastor that a denial of this fact showed a gtfal lack of faiifa^
and evidenced the taint of 'Miberalism^"
Some CathoUcs honestly believe that to call in question the
legend of Ihe Holy House is equivalent to questioning the author-
ity of the Church. They will a^k triumphantly: Has not this
fact the sanction of various Popes who have granted numerous
indulgences to the shtinc of Loreto, and have stt a^ide a
•pedal Mass and Oflicc, on December BO, to commemorate the
feast of the translation ? Have not many miracles been worked
at LoreCo through the DIcsBed Virgin's powerful intercession?
The miracles worWed at Loreto no more prove the fact of
the miraculous traailation of the Holy House, than the miracles
wrought at St* Anne de Beaupre, near Quebec, prove the authen-
ticity of that special relic uf St, Anne. They are the ri^ward
of the faith and piety of the faithful, and do not /fr sf decide
qa««tioi)B of hiAtorical fact.
As for the pEipal iittemnces, we notice that no mention is
aiadc of the mirHculous translation in the many documents that
emanated from Rome En the fourteenth and Bfleenth centuries.
^**M»*J/, J.Miuarj. ncj, Uviidihlir-ii — " Ij Smnlc N!iii»on i!p l.<ir^rL'" Krz'kt itu Or'ft
ftv u tt- 9*p*tt'^t tj. igoi, .^iiiitfliTj-— l'«V""-f l^mNiamr ffu/ana. Qai[i-ii\.—/ftiaifr
CrtUfmt It JMtfif*tf H J>ferr9 Mr—f 4* iMnlo. C^omUn - l*iir^iftoin ,»/ Ijt fnm.-tfjljt /Ut
fytX^Otw. Vvl MI, hyi'tnAM. iiii,\Uii.—t^ Samififj^i^ .b I-^tfv, M Sf Lcju^H' ,— rn/'-Al-
IhMa ^dlr i;«M Cuj AVv-ritf. fm^\\it,i.-U^^tfin^/iiH*ri0. Lib- V, Vve»l<— ^
The Holy House of lqkbto.
lov..
Although the miracle is sappoAvd to have tiken place in i?9it
the lirfii Pope to mention it is Julius II,, in i$o7< ATid he
inBrely speaks of it as a pious Ugend : '* Us pit cteditur it/afxa
w;." The (t^K does not figure in the Oftce until i6jij, and
was not made universal until J719, Every jnie|]fg«nt Caiholic
knotvA that the fact of a Ma£E being ^aid in honor of the Holjr
House by no mean^ conslitutcs an hisicrical proof. Bcnedkl
XLV., the Arft Tope who allempts, as a private theologian, lo
prove the miraculous translation,* cites ibo^e who hold the con-
trary opinion without blaming them in the Ieaat» The Chuich
by such action intendi merely to foster the popular devotion to
the Mother of God.
I have heard others say that the difcussiou of such queti>
tion* hfl^ a Tendency 10 disiurb the simple faith of the people.
I readily admit that one must always be careful not to destroy
the faith of simple souls, while comb^ling the superetitiot^ thai
may be cJoaely intertwined with it, but the Church, as the
divine witnc^ss to God*s eternal truths, does not wish her de-
votJona any more than her do^-mas to be defended bjf unverified
histofical statements. It is surely far belter to have the tfulh
in such matters come Irom those who strongly uphold the de-
votion thit IS independent of the legend which popular fancy
has woven around ii, than from tho^e outside the Churth who
deny both devotion And legend.
The present paper is merely a brief euoimary of the arg«»
incnis of the learned B;irnabiie, Dc Teis, m the RasSf^na Nash-
nalt^ January, 1905. He declares, from the standpoint of hisiorl*
i;al criticism, that the so-called translation of the Holy liouse
of Lorcto \f> merely a popular legend without any foundation
in fai^r
The story of the Holy House in brief is as follows: On the
flight of May 9h I29^ the Holy House of the Blei^cd Virgin, at
Na:£areth, was carried by angels to Tcreatt (Tersaito), near
Plume, in Dalmaiia; on ihc night of December 10, 1794. otfinff
M the lack of taith of the Dalmatiana, it was again carried
lcros« the Adriatic to Recanati, in Italy, a little lown one mile
from the coatt; in August, 1255,11 was carried a third lime to
lite top of a hill near by belonging to two brothers: soon
atterwAfdt. owing to their constant iiuvtrreling, it was carried a
fourth time to another part of ihe lown, where it atill remains.
•llflOCdJciXW, Dt r^Mlii JU^U tlwwiM nt^h. Cl^piH*^!^
ms]
The Holy House of Lofeto.
aot
Some, of courae, have questioned this siory on account of
il» intrinsic improbabiliiy. U \& true Ihat fucti a niiraclt is
uniqae in ihe history of Christianity, and reecmbks rather ihe
leorief of the Apocryphal Gotpde and the abandoned legends
of the Middle Ages thin the true miracles of our Savior and
ht? saints. The average Christian is apt 1o be sccpiical when
he is told that a house traveled from the East to the West
many hundred miles, and then for over four years kepi on itcv*
LJig from place to pL^ce. unltl it ul last louftd a de5n^T« resting
plice. But In an historical question wc do noi a^lc whether
Saeh a miracle it becoming God's dtgnily or not^ but dimply:
U there 4ny hislorical evidence that vhi» fO'ColLcd trfln&tation
erer took plaee?
Since the seventeenth century competent Catholic scholars
have denied it on purely historical grounds. They have pro-
ELOunced it a purely popular legend for three reasons:
;, The aanctu^ry of the Btesicd Virgin at Loreio wac in
eaisicncc long before the so-called Iranslalion of [291-
'i There is no contcmporAry evidence whatever of the pre-
tended translation^
y Many pilgrims to the Holy Land, From the seventh %<y
Ike icventeenih century, viaited the honse of the Blessed Vir-
gin at Naiarecb. and their accounts prove:
(a) That the home at Loreio and the house at Naaareth
arc not Idcntit^l.
(^) That the house at Naiareth was still in Naxarcth long
after lis pretended tran^Uiton to lialyn
I.
Father De Feis mentlonit severa.1 documents of the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries (■■9^i ■ i^91i r^^] which ^penk of the
Bieased Virgin's shrine at Loreto- The papal documents gath-
ered lOffeiher by Vogel* prove clearly that the fhrijie st Lo-
reto wiu vcnernled long before the close of the thirteenth
century, when the angels are supposed 10 have taken \\ from
Kaiarcth. Moreover, the older Topes (LTrban VL, Boniface IX.,
Engenius JV., Paul JJ., Sixtus IV. (^ who granted indulgences
uid privilcjEes to the shrine of Loreto, either do not mciitiofL
ihe ttaftsUtion at aJl, or refer %o it as a pious opinion (Julius
11., Paul in )
aoa T/iM HOLY./iOVSE OF LORSTU. [Nov.,
Th« tu%\ 4CCOunl or thn transUlian t>\ the Hnly Hou» is
found in the Virgitiit Laurefatur Hisicria^ writicti by ihr sec-
retary of the city ol RccftHAil, Jerome Angeljta, ia I535< AIJ
Itor wDikf on the ttanfllatJon are taktn itom this ^oiicce* Al
'our knowledge, therefore, of the fad can be reduced to one
ftuthor. wEio wrot« two hundred and thirty-four years after tho
events An|celif4 qi4otc« no documents, save the apocrypha] an^
ntTi of Kiume. which nn one nvtr saw or quoied. The popu-^
Iir tradition itself cannot be traced back beyond the closing
yeftr« o( ihn fiftoenih cenlury.
Thii ii Jnoat csitraordinjiry, h[strprica]]y ?prahmg, for the
«uppo>ed iranilklion took pUce in ihe lirr^e of Boniface VIIE..
AlL^poch ^f historical writing. Wc knov,' bow quickly the news
of the Jubilee of 1300 spread all over th« Europe of thai day.
Sunly such a stupendous mifscle would hav* been known in
a thon lime in cveiy comer of the Catholic world, and fre-
(iu«nt mention wou^d have been made of It in the chTomcIes
of the day. in the annah of the cities of Teraati, Frume, or
Rocanaii, in the popular books of piety. In the collections of
wlracJas attiibuted I0 ihe Blessed Virgin* in ihe appeals to
Ryms from I^rcto asking for special favors, in the replies of
thv Popes to ihetic appeals, eic. In all the many documents
of ths period there is not a single mention oi the translation,
« fairly good neg&tive argumeat that the woild had not as
yet Hcsrd of iL
The word* of the Blessed Virgin to the Bithop of Tersatu
^history knows of no such bishop — ar<: worth considering h^re,
M bearing evident e^ir-marks of the fanciful popular legend.
They are tran»LaIed from Turfcllini;*
" I wish you to know that the chapel recently carried into
your country is the very house in which I was born and raised.
There* at tho words of the Arcbangel GabHel, ] conceived my
divine Son by the power of ihe Holy Gho&f. There the Word
wan nmdc flesh. After our deaili {i.e., the death of the Hk^fcd
Virfin and her 5on)> the Apostles consecrated this home, il-
luitrious on account of theie myMeries. and celtbrjilid ll:e holy
facrlAca. Tho aitar carried with the house ia the very cno
'90S-]
The Holy house or loreto.
30J
bbftt the Aposllc Peter buih. The cnicifiic upon M was placed
Ihcre by ilic Apoftic* themselves- The cedar aUluc of myself
lail the Infant Jceus is the work of St. Luke, the Kvangelist;
4 tikencs^ c^^ p«rfr?ct a.» mortaf eould make. Thi& was possi-
ble, b€MDsc he was confiiantly with us- This Holy House, fcr
centuries to highly honored in GaLJlec, now that Ihe Itue faiih
and worship have ceased In Nanareih, has come lo your shores.
Do oot douM it- It it the wofk i>f God. to whom nothing is
Impossible. I wiih yng to announce it to the woild. and as a
reward [ give you back your health,"
Turscllini (1597) has retouched ihe account of Angcliia
:(l5'S)< omitling some details that were too evideclly borrowed
<hc Apoi^rypha] GospcU. as, for example* Ibe beautiful
kgcnd of the rod of Juseph which blossomed at hU espousals
with the Blcsicd Virgin. We notice Ut<r on, in the nineieenih
century, that GosselJn omits A\ mcntjou of the altar, sUltc,
crucifix* etc> Thig is the general history of all legends— the
liter historian omlis certain dclailK that he thinks are too
miicb at variance with well-known historical UcIk.
The whole aecouni ot this virion is full of impossible si^tc-
mcfln. The Abb^ Boudjnhon says o( it; '* One sees too
plainly ihe evident aim of the writer to e'*^t*P together every
po»«Jb*e fcAlurc of the Compel story, sa as to augment the
dignity and |;lory of the BEc&sed Virgin's house. The Gospels.
OQ the contrary, do not leave u£ under the Impression that
Ihe Btriuvd Virgin raised Ser divine Son m her own houfc,
but rather in St. Joseph's. The Acts of the Apostles give not
the slighted hint that the Apostles lived at Nazareth, The
CODMCraiion of this chapel, the erecUon of ihe altar by St.
*cier, the placing of the crucifix by the ApoitI?*, the attribut-
ing of the (tatue * to St l-uke, the guaraniced likeness of the
EaE»t Jesus, whom 5t. Luke certainly never saw in his moth-
er'» armii; these impossible statements could never have come"
froRi th< BleMcd Mother of God. Bui the legendary vision
crer concerns itsdf in the least with historical facts."t
An^rlita n^alccs mention <if two embassies sent to verily
the fact of the translation; the first (rjgi) of four persons ficm
Dalmatia to Nazareth, and the second (1394) ol sixteen mcG
*^f<l[rii* IQ ihp honu at ili* nt»ti*J Virgin 4L h'aiupilj cTti ^'udi« La ihU tulBCv
It [tfclMilily od ihf TimfTiYnEh rmrury.
•
I
30* The flOLV HOUSE OF L0A*ETO. (N^V„
from Recanaij to Tcriial/ and NaearFlh. Eveiything, of coune.
turna out as they (Tesirv; they learn that the house hias disap-
peared, they }ce (he very foundations of tt at Naxarcth, elc-
Tht only difficuliy about both these proofs is ihe (act that
the hou5c *a5 frfquently iccn at Naiareih for hundrcdB of
years afterwards. Ue&ides, although ihe Governor of Dalmatia
bCGt one of the etnbagfiies, aitd although both cojtimJs£ion5
drew up official accounts o\ (heir evidence, there is no( a word
extant regarding thcin in the archiveE of Tcrsatz, Fiumet or
Recanati, or the slightest tradition in the Holy Land of any
such v-isit.
All the evidence, therefore, contained in the original ac-
count is evidently made out of whole cloLh. Strange indeed
that a writer of the sixterfnth century should have to use ^uch
worthless testimony to prove a (acl, which the whole world
ought to have known for over two hundred years. If such a
mirack had really taken place, tome one would have chronicled
it long before,
in.
The strongest argument against the translation of the Holy
House U drawn from (he ifineraria of the pilgrims to Nazareth
fronj the seventh to the seventeenth ceIl^u^y- Among |ho««
who visited the House of the Blessed Virgin and described it
are:' Antoninus Martyr (570), Adamnan (G70), Williboid (r75),
Daniel ([iS4)p ^hocas (1 jSj). William B^ldeiitel and Ludolphut
(1336), Nicholast do Pogg{bonsi ([j4S). X-eonnrdo Krescobaldl
(1384), George Gucci and Sigoll {(3$4). Ru&tki ([4?5)i Saa
Sererino (i4!^S)> ^n anonymous writer at Venice (1520), Suri-
ano (1480-1 ^14), John Co(ovic 059^)^ I'tetro ddla Valle (t(^i^)>
and QuaresRiius (ifiio)
Prom the testimony of these writers we learn conclusively
tliut [he Holy House of the Blesstd Virgin, which was in Nasa-
leth hundreds of years before the alleged translation, rctnained
there hundreds of years afierwaids^ We may, therefore, ask
with the celebrated Franciscan, Quaresmius: How could the
Holy House be in both the Kasi and Wesc at the same time?
Nearly 15c years before him. Soriano, who made three visits to
the Holy Land {]4So-i5"4)' spoke of the ignorant people of his
A^y who falsely declared the Holy House of Lorcio to be th«
* Pot Itkfrif ti4ii1 'iTOTeU >e« LKff vHbIoi «f D< Vm dud BAinElnhoB nbov? cfi«L
>905')
IHE HOLY House of LOkEro.
305
ftDtbeniic bouK of the Blessed Virgin. He declared (bat th«
bottw ha htd himself £«cn it MaiArcth w£5 made of ditfercnt
malertaU ahogi-thtr, And could nol huve been carried away
vitbout C4rr>nng away ihe rock of which It formed n parr.
Similar lotimcny it borne by the other pilgiima lo the
Holy LftAd.
Hfiw, tfiee» KfC we (o explain the origin of thU kgcnd, for
luch U uitdoubtcdly \%} We know ihat U wa& a commoo «ug-
locn In Ihc Middle Ag&a to reproduce In the Wcat the sanc^
ivariea of Ibe Holy Landn 5t. Stephen's Church, a< Bologna
fof exunple, ha» several of th«se £anciLiaric?H ju«i as the Kran-
i^dCan Churcbt near VVashirtglon, has in our day, Drvcut Caih-
oliu wished lo picture vividly the pUces made sacred by the
iKedeemer, and 10 they erected shriree that would <^\\ to m^nd
itblehem, Natireth, the Holy Sepulchre, etc. This desire
tunli for the origin of the SiatLt^ns o( the Cross-
Tb* Holy House of Lorcto is moat probably a thrinc of this
^K>rl, erectetl by sorne pious pilgrims after a vUU to our Lady's
'.ItatiM at NMf.Jirf^tbr Tins chaprl, in cxiabtdce at lea^t sini:c
II9). becatne, in the courie of time, a place of pilgrimage.
[God wa» plcAiied to reward the f^iiih of hi» people by numer-
ODS itiiraclcs, Gradujilly the people in Ihejr fervor began to
confound the fac-fimtle with the origlnaL There ie no need
of accusing &ny one of bad faith.
We close with the wotd,i of ihe Abb^ Bouditihon: "Neither
the Authority of the Church nor ihc pieiy of the faithful can
iffer from this conclusion. Not the first, because she does
not eoficern herself viih hifiioricdl queailons of this sort, and
she ba) no interest in the spreud of Ir^cndftj not ihe second,
for true piety is always based on truth. Kvcn though Loretc
U ftoi the houfe of the Ulessed Vir|Ctn, il will ever remain hrr
flpecial shrine. What diElerence doe« it make whethrrr or not
we c»n lay ai Lorcio or ac Naiarcth : ' iUrt the Word was
made flesh,' provided the Christian enliven bii faith asd in-
cteftte his piety by meditating upon the sublime doctrine of
the Incarnation : * Th^ W^rd nrii mndt ffexh. and dwe^c among
:
'S Tr3E Cathouc Wohlo has often raiitd its voice
agatnsi ihc use of meretTklous music ^n ih« wor-
ship of God and for the restoration of riain*
Chini — the Icgitim&lc musk of ihe Cuholle
Church— to its nghtfuS place in (he sanctuary. I
think it will not be amUs if 1 lay belore its readers a tvv/ rc-
mArka on this lopk so 'o/i^cly dUcusscd ci late. That the time
U ripe for ihc restoration of Plain-Chant no one, I think* will
venture :a deny. Till the present time the clergy, especially
in thi» country, h^vc been too busy in attending to the im*
pgri«nt niitter« of building churches, schooU, conveni^, ^emU
riiirir«, orphan asylums. hospitaJa, etc. to give much attention to
Ihis tnatier, which is loofced upon as of secondary impofiancc-
But thing! arc changed; the churches arc built, the schools
filled with children, *nd the lime has come when we may reasori-
ably OKpect that mure attention will be paid to the right cfder-
ing of the htuf^Lcsl offices of the Church.
Wt KttUn lie*r of the glorious ritual, ibc imposing cere-
monies nf Thr Church, in which music plays such an imporfant
parL Where are they faithfully observed? What arc Ihc Sol-
«inn Maia, the Liturgical Vespers, the OiGce of (be Dead, the
TtfTiebr'T, «te . etc,, if urn leave out the music f And what music
is there tor ihe greater part of these cfficti btii Plain-Chant?
Nil wonder, then, that his Ili>]ifies9, Pope Pius X., has thought
the lime h** come for i change, &nd has given his views in the
famous " Motu Proptio,"
lu furtherance of this much-to be desired restoration, a new
edition of the liturgical chant books i& in Course of pre|>ara-
lion. ThiH means that the Katisbon editiovi. in ff>ite of tta pres-
tige » the "Official Iidiiion," and exclusive copyright, has not
been a succeAt. What h the cause of its failute ?
The 'BfwvT m-iy be found in the books theroielrrs asil in
(he ■PclJ-vneaninh', but mistaken, efort* thit have becc made
to provide accompaniments to the chant cootaic<d thfrcic.
im-]
The Restohatjon oi Plais-Chaa't.
107
Til(t the Graifita/e. for inBtmcc, U would be difficult to
And 4 more bungling* c^reUsK piece of warlr. I will quoie a
few examples. The Di/.t /nr. as far as the srania LacrytNO-
M, shouM be tet 10 three separate melodies; the first and
tccond Manias beiii^ ±ct to the tirat melody; the ihirJ and
iimrth, tc the sEcond ; and thi^ flth and sixths to tht? Uiird ;
iftcr which the same order is repeated. Examine the RatJ^bon
setting of the eleventh and Itvtlfth slanias,
The fequencef, VfH$ San^U Sfiin'/tts, I'fi even worse. There
ihovld be A separAie melody (or each pair of (lanias; Che fir^t
tod tccond having one melody, the third and founh another,
etc There are two vartations of the melody of the ihird and
rourib- The music of the first and second line? of the sixth
it4Dia ha» slipped out altogether, and its place ha£ been uken
by something else- The AlUiuia vcrsicles for Ihe Lhiid Mass
of Christmas, of St, Stephen, of St, John, of the Epiphany, of
the Cbiir of St. Peler, and of the Maes Sacerdous Dti, are tet
tto the same chant, and the word AJkhtia, with its following
jubilus, should be the ^ame in all these ca^e^; yet we have at
leaat five diflercrit setting's of the notes to the word. The A^rtus
thi of the Requiem Mass i» marked Modus S, sol uli this
DieBJ» that sol is the final, and ut (or do) ts the dominant The
dominant does not occur once in the ptcce. and the ^at is used
OQ every st whboui any necessity for such use, ai there is no
tritone to be avoided.
The accompaniments which have been published have not
h«lped mitterji to atty great extent. They seem to accentuate
the nncouthnesi of Rati^bon chant itself, and fheif general eifecl
faaa been 10 make it decidedly unattractive. I have yet to make
lb« 4cqu«iniaa<:c of an organist who would wiUingly play theni>
Will ibe new Vatican edition, which it said to be the So-
me^ editiim, effect Ihr re^toratinr t>f chant, even if ii« use he
ade compuUory ^ Under certain conditions it may; under
certain otbcra U will be ijoomcd to a failure as complete as that
of iti prcdeccTiorB.
Let ut consider ibe conditions tinder which this rcEtoration
ii to take place. What are the materials of which our choirs
■re to be composed? The majority of our churches are un-
bltt to afford a paid choir, so we will h»vc to depend on the
oyi of our schools or of the public schools, and stich men as
we may be able to interest in the work
I
AFt«r ^ few years ottr hoys, wht> leave the cho^r 9I iIh!
breaking ol the voice, will, l( ihey Vike the work 45 boyi, come
back to the choir m young inenj arjd then our choir materjal,
such as it b. iii quite well afjsured. Our choir will have its
diriicuItlesH Every year tiumbcrs of our best boys will kdv«
on Account of the changing oi their voices.
Sctmelimes wc may have a large number of sullable vOiCct,
and There mjiy be I^tig periods in which we have not a single
good one- Wc may fiomctimcs have a very intelligent fet ol
singers and al other times it tiia.y be qujle the reverse, Tt mu^l
be borne in mind that the time in which n boy is useful in a
choir Is very limited, In this country it can be labcn as a
general rule that a voice will become uedesc at about ihc 9ge
of fourteen; so ihat ri-en if wc btgin to irain him at the age of
eight we will have the use of the boy but fix years* ll re-
quires from three to six months to get a boy to d^^w hi» vfork
in the ctioifH and it is only after a year, during which lime lie
Hb^ b^cn once through the Calendar, that we may reasonably
ex|jec| him to begin to be an elTicient chorister.
In speaking of the placing of the '* tonic accent" in the
pronunciation of l.^tln, those who have written instruction books
on the tioicimcs Chant lay great ^Lress upon the fact that
nouns, pronouns, etc., have a tonic accent; but prepositions,
conjjnctions, etc., have not
Since a boy begins his chant studies at eight or nine years
of agCj It is manifestly absurd to expect him to distinguifh be-
tween I.alin parts of speech, when he kni»ws little about tbe
parts of sp«ch in hi« own language-
It is abiiolutely necessary that the meicbers of a Gregorian
choir read chant quite Hncntly. because there are many occa*
lions (or which it will be Impossible to find time for careful re-
hearsal On taking up one of the Solesmes books of chant tho
first thing which strikes one is the strange looking notation* Wc
see qtiilc a variety of differently shaped notes; a square noi«;
a note with a stem ; a note which would be square if it were not
convex at ihe top and concave at the bottom; a note with
teeth at both top and bottom; a diamond shaped note; a litllc
note, barely viaiblQ, hanging^ on the stem of a big note; groups M
of two notes, one abovf the cth«r at various distances, looking
like chords; a long oblique line such as ti used in modern
music lor marking the stems of eighth notes or quavers; groups
I90SO
TfiE RESTORATW!^ Of PLAIN-CHANT,
109
of tw», chfce. four, five, nitic notes, all on ihc same )me with-
out AQ/ ward» 4nd«r thcm^ Here surely ie variety enough lo
»omewhal bewHdcr one who learned the Skrte forms of Flaiii'
Cl)*ni noiatfon before the adver^t of these wonderful discover-
iei. Let uB nee wb&i ihcy mean- "The virga ^tiotc wJlh a
iicm) is not tong'\ "The notes o£ a Plain-Chant moiif do not
v&ry In diimtion"; ^' All note^ in Piain-Chant an? approxi-
nUcly of equal va1u«*'; "The virga ia not a long tote; rcl*
ther Is thi? rhombLts a short note."
From this w« niike the aistontshin|{ discovery thai these
dglit different thape^ given tc the notes mean nothing. The
IttBi on a note shows thai It is higher on the sialT than the
Kceaile»« note; t'mo signs to distinguish a higher note from a
loircr. The thiek oblique line before mentioned here meana
ftiv notes, although \\ sometimes covers the places ol three or
four. These two notes are supposed In be, one on the line or
•pkce where it begins, and the other where it ondsi although
theie places are oftentimes far from clear, owing to the fact
Ihat fiach cTiiL of the ublLque line comas tu a point; in fact,
in an io«tTucHoQ*book before me Its position is so indistinct
that one could hardly ^nd out what Ir meant without the ex-
planatnrjr modern notes.
Then there ia the Uctle note hanging 10 the stem of a big
OOtv; ibe" semi-vocal" note of the "epiphonus"' and the "ce-
pbaUcui"; perhaps the sixty<fourth of an inch in ftire, and
ptaerlevMy invUibk except in a ^tron^ light, These, we arc
told, arc used vhere two vowels come together, or where a syl-
lable ends with a cansonant- Again wc have two signs to ex-
press one idea, Wc »oe thht the syllable ends with a conEonani,
ud we have a specially shaped note to tell us the same f^ct.
Thoft ther« is the note with the teeth ; the *' quilisma." a
ftote with properties »o dchghifuliy uncertain that every author-
ity seems to have a dllTcrent mtefprciaiiDn for it. " Piobably
to be treated im 4n ornament analo^'uiis to our modern mordent/*
Another authority: "The quilinma ietms 10 have indicated a sftrt
ol trennoto," which t^rs of tremolo docs not appca^r; but the
autboTtty gives an example in modern notes of what he thinks
la a "Iretnolo"! It ia a turn. Another tells us that we wilt
aocomplith the ((uilisme by giving the voice " un mouvemeni
de circoAvolutEon." It is a "grupeilo/'a "trill." a "turn," a
mordent/' a "sound like the blowing of a trumpet or horn."
rou tKKXi 1.^14
no The Restoration of plajn^Cuant. [Nov.,
But he niuBi fuid some way tjui of the difficulty, sOh "In
iH^fr cifiei it nuy be treated a& a simple note/' " Many de-
»ire that the noLe preceding the qu^fiiinia should b« somtu^hat
Unithenfd, whereby a similar ciiccc would be aiiaincd as by a
slight iremolo o( the voice." He omits to infortn us iiow the
lengthening of ene note iwlll niake the next one sound like a
"* iUght rr^molo."
My own experience witb the "quilisma" was peculiar. In the
prefftce of the Libtr Vsuaiii It U spoken of as ittfia tltuiiculafa,
I had been rettding the book for nearly two years before I dis-
covered what that Hofa Jftitunhta meant. I was curious to see
the exact shape of the tittle semi-vocal notpfi, t<o. t;iking the
book into A strong light, and using ^ p^u/orful magnifying gl«sj,
I »aw the shape of the semi-vocal note and discovered iho
denticulation of the t^uilisma, which had appeared to me before
as A note somewhat blnrred in the priming. Now, if it is nee*
esiary to take a book into a strong light and use & magnifying
glus to read it* wh-^t are we going to do in the " dim leligious
light" of the ttveiagc church? Then we have a Jfnt which
does not look like one and which a reader will usually lake for
a naturnL
The groups of twr» ^nd three note^ which aie sometimes re-
peated in such an absurd fashion are the distrofhietts and th«
trisif^pfikus — "originally an oroaraent." Then why change il^
Why docfl he not tell us, tf hf t-ttn. what kind of an ornament it
wu, instead of saying, "they arc to be sung simply as long
notes 7 " "Originally sung vUraFim or tremolo," says another.
These "strophici" were simply mannori^ms of singers, and
they should have no place In written chant- The "distrophicus"
was made by giving /iivimpuEfies :o a syllable ; somewhat as tf
we were to sing " aJia" or "ohtf" instead of a or a. The thfe«
notes of the tristrophlcus were sung very cjuickty : the middle
note being sung a umi-J&rt/ hivtr than the other Iwo. It was,
in fact, the old-fashioned mcridenc ^uch as we find in Bach and
Other old masters.
If we fellow the"rti1e" given, and make each note of these
" Mrophici " as long as the other notes, we will get aome very
peculiar "melodies." In the OtTcrtory of the Epiphany we find
the following :
{ xj f i
'«-!
The Restqkaiwn of Plai:^-Chant.
311
four ftylUblea set 1<i 1f<ii fa and oritf r/. In ttie Ma^ " DJUx^
ttii" the opening words o/ the offertory are sung:
Bd - d d dj_d
/■I — //'* #y -
rd
Id
CiTe syllables fid to twenty- five nates; one s<A, one b, three
ta, BDd titf«rity do !
Let ui mmmarisc. We hAve at least ti^ht fornis to repre-
lent cPt idea; the tcjt^h of rotes, three of which are very in-
dtttioct, vif., the semi. vocal, the porrectus. and the quiJisnja;
ihe stem note to show that it is higher than anothrr note
vfam itt poiition on the stalT is sufTicicnt for that purpose,
Ehff almost invisible semj-vocal notes for teeing us someiUing
whjeh 19 toJd belter by the text, and ibe Ihrce '' ornamcEitaJ "
gro^pik Ibe diUrophkus, the triatrophicusT and the quIUsma,
the cxptAnalton o[ ivhich is simply a itLakpshiit.
If we expect to make fluent reader* of ehani by using this
di^calt and unselentilii: riotaijon, 1 think we will be doomed
CO disapputnlinvntt
" Wax this notation need not be usfd/' wc arc told, " bccMuue
all the cbtAtt are to be publUhcd in modern notation a« wc\U"
Let u» diubuse our mlnd^ of this fallacy. Many atlemptA
have been made to teach Gr<:]{orian music from modern no-
tacioo, but ttiny have never succeeded and they never can,
G't^ari^n ikant innrt^f he titu^ht fri'in tnedtrn fmtuti&n. Modern
aotation brin2< into sptcial prominence absolute piti^ ^nd rcLa-
tire length of notes. Now Gregorian chant has neither the one
nor the other, and il wc try to leach it frcm niodern notation,
ire will have to give to the signs of modern notation mean-
\ti%i which they do not possess, or rather, we will hAve to
take away their meaningE altogether We will have to tay iji
e fleet : these not«is which are A-B-C-D are not ab-c-d; they
are sotnethini^ else; yuu cannot sing a-b-e-d, because they
are too high or too low. These quarter notes are not quarter
aoies, rjeither arc ihr^c cighlh notes and hall notes righlhs or
hatrci, because all Gregorian notes arc the same length. Thi^
dot over a ooten which in modern notation means siattata, we
will use lor an umni matk, and this new combination mark,
fojincd by putting together a sia[:cafo and a ^pari^aiu, we will
uae for aomething else> This other little sign* which In mad*
2tt The RBSTOtCATiON OF PtAfh-CHAMT. [Nov..
era iw>t4lioa mctftt two noiei, we put oirer a note to indicate
tbu il \% [o be «un)f «» ^nt thart note aixj ih&i the note ^-
/^rv the one ao tuirked ia made hn^ir so u to secure the
"effect of e »Hshl tremolo of the voice." and sJ^q, be it re*
membiredt lU Pljiiii-Ch4nl notci &rc the »acne length. Such
It the Soleftme* ** modem notttion."
In tho Kyrialf in " modeTn iioTation,*" u'c fifid the Asf^rg^s
Ml kn the IC«y ol C, *a high that nciiher the bafse« nc»r the
altoi of the choir C4fi ftlnt; it^ A little furtber on wo find the
Mm* of the Rleiied VifKttJ Mary also 5*1 in the Key oj C,
wUh A compHt* cxttndJttB: from A, two Jines bdow the st^ff,
lo At une Hn* tbovt, twu complete octaves,
W« C4n iinn|{lnc « choir ilruggling along "''^^ a "modern
noUliOh" r-f4ii/*>i/4-, tryiag to rend the words under the sisfT,
|h« notoi on the fUf, ud Ibe ro« of dots and da^hef, etc.,
«t9.t ftlKWe the *t*lT, et the ft«rae time beeping an eye open
for iroublti lo eone le the sfaipe of notes which are to be
ttM^ikitMit becAUM the notei f^f^wtKg them are to be shorts
tM^^ aiul w(uti)oting whether Ihi" curved tine is really a tie or
not
Anotber matter in the SoletmcA books, ihAt ia apt to sirtke
one aa pecuhar^ is the long strings g£ notes without any words
uvidor them — twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, seventy, »venfy-one
notn to one tyllablel The Holy Father, in (be "Motu Pro-
|Ulo»'' especially forbids the use of music in which reMs are
(nU^*dui:rd between the syllabteH of wor<fh; btit in the&e lun^
we have matiy rests; therefore. Chey are forbidden by the
|*apAl fnitructlon-
Tbe&e lun^ runs do not ri)*htly belong to chant. A large
nuinber are mierpolations. and many are so clumsily "drvgged
ln"aa to be ca«ily detected by their failure to fit the mode in
which they arc supposed lo be written- It was principally to
get rid of these runs that P:u» V, ordered a reloim of the U-
lurfkal booki, enitusiing the work to FaleKrina-
The leni^lh to which this Jubilua abuse is carried is absurd-
ist ua suppose it is Palm Sunday. The palms have been
blessed and distributed, the procession is over, and wc have
returned to ouf places in the cboir. We ba«v been aiagingfor
probably an hour and a quarter at least, and we now begin the
Mua. After the Hpi4tk wc ling the Gradual and Tract, while
the three deacons are getting ready to chant tbe Passion,
A
T90S.]
THK RESTORATlQlt QF PLAIN-CMAST.
^n
v^tch wHl occupy froTH lorty-fivr minuics lo an hour lo sing-
Wc arc singing in accelerated time, about 135 notes a minute;
And even at that rate it will be at least stvtntttn and a hat/
minaffi hfjarf wf en4.
One of the commonest complaints againit tb« modern
Mow i«, that the clergy are compeltcfi to wait so long during
A fcrtian of the Gluria and Credo, We will enamine a modern
Mtss and find out how much of it we can perform in seven-
teen and a half £ntnute&> I chance to hiivc a volume of Ha^^n
at hand, and I turn to bis Brst Masa-
Let ut take the Chris, There are four movements, the
\ux conuining a fugue on the words /w Ghria Dei Patris,
Amn*, which, Itke all fugues, comes lo an «nd al la^t ; but we
hjtxt not consumed our seventeen and a half minutes. The
Cftda Is in Four movements, concluding with a fugue, Er
Vit^tm l^rHfnri SafH/i, Atmn. We can add these four move,
mcnta to the other four, and we will still have lime to sing
AtdUiyChe whole of the Sttnaus / And for the greater part of
this lime we h^vc not been singing the word^ oi the Gradual,
bnt hAve been vocalixing on various vowel ^unds; ringing, in
fact old^fAshiooed vocal exercises.
The J^j'ru Ol Haydn's second MasSj and the Cum Ssticie
^ri/v of Weber's in G, hnve always been butu for the ridi-
cale of churcii music rcfornaers; but they are very modeat
COttipositiona compared with some of the Solesinet Graduals
and Alklttifts. We select a few examples from Ihc AiU/uia
fA the Jllth Sunday after Teniecnst:
Eslil - d'd'd*tals -d'd'dtasfl- | fslil-
d'd'd- tJi I « - d'd'd ta 9 f ] - f s f ta I U
suptw.
Twelfth Sunday afttr Pentecost:
f I d'r'd" s I * 1 1 d'r'd' s 1 1 d'r" I - r'm'l - d'r'd' 1 1 |
MsM-a-f
f-ft'i-dydtl-dtd Is- I d'tdVd'i-dM'd'ls- |
ti,
n»IUtd'd'd*l-| d'd't Id's-Ufsf- |1
i
314 The Restoration of Plain-Chaxt. [Nov.,
Tw«n!y-MCo[icl Sunday fthcr Pentecost:
■I r r«Hlfftfiinr-nfrd|rffr-firrfsf|
/(f tuft* tpt , . . - ^ . . . .
fHrmfrd- | Hr-f/d- [ fmsfmsmfrd |
< < I < f/U 1 4 * I ■ ' «
Tvnth Sunday Uler Pentecost. Allckia Te Decet:
t, t, iil,<lr, rrv, | rmrd-frfrmdl,-] rmrd-
in Jr * m ' sm Urn
Hrdmr-| r f if r m f rd f f r- | dffdm rddt, |
l.dd(,dnwdd l.-rdrdda. |dddl,fl.-^l,t,l, l,s»-||
ThQia are ihe wonderful "nnflodioa" — "jubilations" — which
ftr* lupposed to remind at oi the eternal glories of I'aradtsc-
I think wa may venture tu predict that ihcy will not help the
r««torat^on ol PUinChani "But these Gradual^ Tracts, and
A11«1u1m need not be *ung a* they arc in the book^» chcy may
bfi Bung 'redo lono.' *' Veft, my friend; we may sing ihvsn
" retlo lono," a« Ihey artf »«"B Joo oitcn ; but don't call n
" lesto tono'* choir a riain Chant or Gregorian choir. "Recto
lono*' ii net riain'Chant.
AiK>thcr peculianty of the Solcrsmes books which must be
notiocd, lo KtrenuouHly defended a* something which has come
dvvn l<t uft Irom thoEw good old tiinea when "everything was
subordinated lo accent," ]s> the piling up ol netjins on unae-
cented syllablea, and leaving the accented syllable of the word
with a >ingl« note. Birkte aayt: *'An interesting exaroplir of
lhi« kind is the first aniaphon frocn lh« Vnpcts or St Locy":
It rt, rrar||rtn rd drd dLd
O - mm . , , /# Samt - ta Lm - <i * . . . tf
The Inf leal accent belongs undoubtedly cpon the first sylla
bit ol the vo>d Abiitf. Were there but oE>c note each upon
iha >yttah1t«>i aad a the nu/ifrj/ pronunciation of /uVrdwonld
be rcAdeied very »iinp4c. The way, however. \tt vUcb th<
iMCea are parc«l«d \tk thit example neceoitates a certain t^m-
^tkm of the aiTCtni to the ttgkt li^u i- '-, the accent on
isos]
TfiE Restoration of Plafx- Chant.
2"5
I
/jitut musf be strengthened, madt v^f^ proininciit, 5o as to
ttn6tT it as the logical accent
Ic is admLtted that IhU way of parceling out the ao\ts re-
4ulu in an uniialuiaJ pronunciation, otherwise we would not
hairc 10 u»c cf>inpuIsion lo push the accent into its right place.
Why fihould wc be compelled to use this unnatural pronun-
cf«tioD? We arc told that this piling up of the notes t«i un-
accented syllables does not ihrcw the acceiil lo the syUabk so
treated. We will see, however, that it doc* necessarily.
I^t uA take the word Do/nine for iiistaiii:^ Thi« Is one of
thp words which is generally subjected to this piling up pro-
cess. The lir^t syllable is accented and long in quantity, and
the fiecdnd syllable is the fihortest of the three.
Taia word is ^t a* follows in the Requiem Ma^s and other
place* ;
d drnirdffd-||
Dif - mt . , It-
Here the ionic accent is on do- — and we arc told that wc
»re to r!}mf>rl the accent in the manner menliontd above. There
arc two musical accenr^ on the syllable mi — as we hatf to Ac-
cent the J^rtr note of each neum. How can we possibly sing^
the second syllable as an unaccented syllable, if we have to
fiin^f two musical accents upon it? Tf we sing word^ 10 music
wc must follow the mueical accent, and if we sing an unaccented
syllable to a musical accent we must neccasarily accent that
ijrliablCK Let us take a well-known instance:
I d* . ft £e o I d' . « U o d' d' I
At - U Ma At - U tuia Mt -
|d*d'od'd' d'd'od' | l d' t d* o ||
imta AUr - Iitur Ai - ft . . lu ~ ta
Who c^n deny that the accentuation of the word ttUtiuia
here follows the mkisicd accent? One can compel with alt his
p^wer and he will still have the lirst two words accented on
the £rst, the second two accented on the third, the third
word acecRted on the Meeond, and the last accented on the
tecond and fourth, because when one is singing he must /hHpw
tJU mmkat ^^anh Musical composers recognize this law and
gcoerAlLy make the accvnt uf the word eunJorm to the musical
accent- Whit a raking a composer would get Troffl the crilics
t\ he accented as foJlows:
5 I * U rf' d" I d- I i t d" I r' m' r ij"
l-mVm' m' | m^^r'd;^!! f' | rM' U s d' |
* , fti ^rtf/t - /^r mj^ - HdHi gU -
I Ij d" - I I d" - - II
ri - 4IM /IT - am
In cases where thU clashing of the stnst o\ the mu5ic with
the sense of the wonls occurs, and there are hurn^rcda of then).
we must nol forget Ihe old ruler " 7"A*r Uxf w M* mastery ik§
n^UJ th4 srrtvrnt*': fltid the tnusicaJ accent must be made 10
fit the accent ol the words, and. by thr way, if the accentua-
tjon
drm-rdr-r r-djl
I^ff . i mi- He
13 SO very " lourd," as »ung by ihe **moderncs/' why do wc
have
f m f r r 1[ d r - d d
U0 > tn: > flf Dff . . mi ' Hf
mrs-mrni-fmfr rd-|l
ZV , , , . mi - rte
And many others where the musical and the textual accenii
have beci) made to coincide?
I think that ninety-nine out of every hundred will prefer
the " lourd "-ness to the improper accent. Bvcn If it were the
custom of the muiidana of the olden time to pile tip tb«
notes m this manner, entirely regardless of accent or qnantiiy,
19 there any reason why we should do tho ^ame when we know
better }
One of the ctaiios of Solesmes is, if 1 da not ntislakv,
that they have redticovered the art ai reading the old chant
manuseripta, and fo cUim for that chant a purity and authen-
ticily which are denied to other editions ; "and it ifi the tri*
umph of modern times to have rediscovered the ancient an of
liturgical monody" (Holly, Gr^ftmar cj PLun- Chant),
Let at examme brieHy the hhtory of the propagation of
d
T905-J
Tnb Restoration of PLAiS^CHAST.
2«7
?Uin-ChAQt, and sec whether or not this claini b reasonably
jood. Of Ihe ori^n of PUm-Chant noibiog is lenoi^n with any
deffTce of ccriaint}'. Il has grown up w^lh the Chuich. and
v« may rm^onubly surmise that th? early Christiana adapted
vhu th«y had lo «mg to melodies which were Already well
Inown to thf 01, aud that, afi Christianity apicad over the world,
;bc ^ant wzis cifricd by Ihe nLissionarie^ who, in lufn, taught
it to ihclr converts. We may alao suppose thaE abuses crept
Id, just as ihey do nowadayf, and thai from time to time re-
Forms were neccisary. We know that 5t- Ambrose inaugu-
rai«d one of these reforms, so that the purifed chant of hiE
:im« cain« to be called Ambrosian. Wc know that Si. Gregory
iiftugurdted another, and that Fiufi V, carDinifisioned Pales-
Wina to revise the liturgical books, with a view to the elimina-
lion of abuses, among which were the "jubilaitona." St, Am-
broie atcms to have allowed ihe u&e of such pieces a£ con-
fornied Id certain scales^, ol which he delcimtned there were
iouf, Thcst IChIcs of St, Ambrose apparently had a compass
*f ao octave and a half- St. Gregory split these scales in
Ewo, thus makiJig two scalps, each an octave in compass To
nderstand how two scales of an octave each can be made
from one scale of an octave and a half, it is only necessary
CO itDagirie a scale of eleven notes; commence at the top and
descend eight notes and there is one icale, and commence at
the bottom and ascend ci^ht notes and there Is another, each
diflcdng fiom the other in the distribution of the tones and
>emJ-toQe«,
St- Gregory composed a large number of chants, and wrote
many hymnn. There is a tradition ihat the fkr^t piece of chant
whuh he wrote was the IntTnif of the First Sunday of Advent
—Ad Ti L^vavi — a most beautiful composition. The chant
«U taught by oar^ the liin^ers had to memorize both words
uid masic; "These were the good old days when there wete
but lew bookf, livery good aingcr had the entire repertory
^y Ifeftan" (lioliy, Grmtmsr oj Plain-Chani).
We hpve another reason to know that this ii a fact, he-
caaie it required from ^even to ten years to learn chanr. At-
tempts were made from time to time to reduce these melodic*
to writiog tt in almost im possible in ihefce dayfi, when we
koow how to analyse a piece of mu&ic into its component tn*
dividual sounds, to conceive the ditSeuhy which must have
atS
THE RESTORATrOX OF PLAIA'^C//A.VT.
[Nov.,
b««n «sp*rta&c«d id putting ciafka upon ihc psptr whkh were
supposed to repfeseftt the tunc; for it rnuM be remembered
t^At tke ultJBAte uiftJytis i>r tunes into Iheir separate cotnpo-
nent not*M »» not known for hundreds of yean,
G«mIo d'Atctto «tt» th>c fir^t to discover that Ibis could be
<>oi; b« {DT^ottd vb4t b now known aji the sta^ and taught
to fcttd chuit tn three inoflihs^ a task which, as wc
t mM baisn, fonocrty repaired from f«ven to ten years.
^ dagi uu a kiad ol i&usic«] noution was e^volved. "The
t* t^ctr BiMwcripu wrote tbeJr noi<s 'in campo
I* fim A* • p» > €«U, j' r,, airint Uttts) over the text
maMyk TW ^ »i >a *» twists and turns of whkh fi icne was
ni(>pO«eil b» ta« atrfe Bp were reprexnicd by ligures of vari-
4M«s l^t^t^ M vUt^ w«r« gi^vQ faociJut names ; finiaiHS, iiivis,
*M«4tf, ^Mr^wOhr.* etc. eCc
Ltt «ft c^ b«ek iff vptrit aAd *n «od hear one of the old
«hAin WE «oclu n* siicer* arc uj^mblcd in their siaEls and
llbm ■» >■< tetSW book ■• lk« middle «il the choir (or the use
«| 1^ Ji i» * B u4 '. Tbe OAce which is being fung has, of course,
k4«Q nfcOtttJ 4Mt t^ liPgOf know It, more or less perfectly,
kjf ft«Kl TW dinctor is sn experie^iCfld choir sjng«r who
^M %V^ »ria«t* Eor dw pocition on account of his superior
t^tf^i K i^ lbr**f)^^M chant and for hii vocal abiJiiyn He,
iM^tM^ tte fettttk fcttoia kim, stalls e«ch piece, and after a word
^ |v» (\k* iMMMtktt) lk« «;ngcr» who have caught up the
%«■% fiM vb ta tb* book before the director arc the various
WiiW f LCWll wkick tCpiWinit to htm the various portions
t|l tt« «ttlrt|K Tb««« pkluvs be rrprtrduces belorr the sing.
«« bfl^ 4iMi4M9 lk««r vnrioiis fo4i99^ in the air with his hand,
F«»l Mwa Mya tbvM to remvmbtr th« tuno.
Ik v>M4V» •^ *>M '^^'^^ mtsrct« will be required for other
^^HMlH>*M *<"^ vik«Kk«ik ^sd il U only natural for us to «up-
C^bM "v^tt* ^ ibt riagaft ol our ctoir> who display more
^a^JbkUy lijlimh Wfll b« »eat to fill the&e positions, X^t
MNM vM ^ 1^4^ *^ ^ ^"^ sphere of work, He is lA
WMC** ^'^^ * C*^ ^roicc, atid as he studies his
^bo botfJl be |nrbap« thinks hr ha& a better idea
,^BB blk mirttl ^ tbe utanatT in which some chanit thouM
Wo MIMMiIL Wli a^*^ |r«cbaps his memory- has failed him
»90V]
THE Restoration of pi^in^chaxt
319
He it fchcar^itif for the anniv^fsHTV of the feast on whkh
pft ttrtl bcnril tlie ctioir q1 which he wa^ then a nicnibcr Wc,
who are supposed t^ know our chant hy note, deuct fioroe
slight dirTer«nccK between the {:hanC we bear now and that
which wc heard on the former occasion. This podatus, which
wa< 1 sl«^ of a whole tone when w« heard it before, \^ now a
minor third, Hiid IbHt ciivii. which was a miiior third, is now
a fourth, thi» seondutn, which was formerly composed cf a
major third skip, followed liy a scmi-tonej is row a second fol-
lowed by a minor third, and that L'/iffftf^«f, which was a straight
ruf) down of four notes, h^s become a skip of a minor third
lollowcd by two steps, etc., etc. And what hit happened to
thai hymn ^ Why, sure enough, he is singing ii a whole (one
Uglier, He ha4 mistaken the third mode for the first.
Thi» \% only a fancy picict*. but it ia one very easily recog-
nised by muMCiana, and it gives tis a very good idea of the
way in which di^lftfs o( chant had iheir origin; f^r thcrt are
ttrtmnfy diait<U in cha^tL In what other way can wc account
for the cltjTcfenc« between the chant as it is found in Italy, and
aa it U found in Spain? Why is the chant of Trance different
frctn that of Germany ? Of Switicrlaod from that of England ?
n wo take the various versions of the same tunc a; found !n
Ihe different diaiecis, we wilt 6iid ample evidence from the tune
itaclf, and from the manner in which the nolcB arc set to the
wordj. to >how that it has been written down by ear. The
tune of thr Pnnge Lin^nn witl Aerv? as an illustraioriH T se-
lect the vepiiona as found in the Mechlin, the Montreal, the
Sotefmeft. and Ihe Rati&bon. The melody itself \& evidently
,^hler than (he words. Its resemblance to Ihe melody of Deus
tm$rmm, ak given in the Mechlin, is too close to be accidental.
In the Mechlin and Solcsmes the melody la written in the
third mode; in the Montreal and the Ratisbon it ia written in
ihe lint, a wtio^c tone TiJwef^not a whole tone lower in the
'taodcm jcdsc of the term, which would simply mean in a
lovctf key. the intervali remaining the same, but a tone lower
ia the ofrtinaiT *cale ; the compass of the third mode version
betng Irom D 10 D. and thai of the first mode version from C
There is a considerable diflerencc between the (hird node
lody. ift given in the Mechlin and the Sole^mes, ai^ (here U
III the firfel mode melody, ae given in the Montreal and
aao
The restoration of Plain*Chast.
(Nov..
the RfllUbon. How can wc accciiiAt for 1h»c variaitons cf Ibfi
Bamt mdod/, except on the theory that it bA« bcco written
down by persons who bad learned it by ear In their earlier
days, or has been copfrd by ear from the £ingtTi|E of nuch a
prfson.
Which Ls cbe right mode for this tunc, the third Of the
fir«i? And which of the many versions ie the Itua ona P The
Mechlin or the Solesmes? The Kiiti^bon of the Montrca)?
The Paris or the Lyons? The Constance or theSarum? Nov
this tune ha^ not been picked out as a kind oC "horrible ex-
ample." We might take almost any piece of chant, and the
results would be much the same.
And yet we are toM that the real meaning of the old mann-
acriptB ha« been rediBcovercd, Which nianvi^ciiplti J Why. the
manuscripts of one dialt€i of chani. And even W the true tneao-
ing o( :hif4 miinuscrlpta has been discovered, which 1 think \
have »hown to b« almost iinpossible, have we the real chant
as left by St- Gregory? How about the ofljces oi the leasts
which have been instituted since St^ Gregory's time? Not to
speak i>t earlier ones, wc have the ol1]ce£ of the ratrona^c of
Sl Jcseph; the luiinaculale Conceplrou; our Lady ol l-oufdrt;
St John baptist de la Satle, etc., etc,, all of which have been
instituted in our own time.
Each edition seeme to have its own version of aach of lh«a*
feastt, with variations *o great that the various pieces are ab'
lOiuiely vitjftrtnt pir^tt c/ musit, different in melody and diffvt-
ent in taode. and yet we have these various new ollicea in the
SoUdmea ediliorn tricked out in the garb of the old " Marm-
flcrits." with their /fli/j/nwj and their €livha and their /tfrrrr.
Sum and their t^r^ulusts. efiS£UXft. etC-
We njay be met by the statement that these n«w odficev are
not wholly new, bur have been partially adapted to chants al-
ready in existence, which may be true; but here we arc coii>
fronted by a statement of Rov. 5. Birkle; "Finally, if a tnel-
ody IP not propc<rtioned to the text or fitted to the thoojjht, it
may, In lo far as it may be proportioned to /m^An' frxt, be
called riain Chant, but it is not a proper rJain-Chant melody
for the text in which tt ia Ht " { Campifie and Prttcti^al MrtA*d,
Page so).
What la the process used in decipheriRf* one of time old
Flaia-Chant manuscripts, the notation o1 which (if sueb it stay
"9oi.]
TNE RESTOflATIOX OF PLATI^-CHANT.
211
be caltetl) \i 3o cKCCcdlngty obscure > Can it be Oune by « pcr-
*oo having siniply A knowledge of muAicP No; lo such a person
It would he absolutely uninielEtgible. He mtist have a ttJiowl-
rdge of chant; in fact, he should he wrll acqufliniccJ with ihe
various veraion* or djalccu of chant He selects a piece In
bis manuscript ly th€ mortis. H« then brings to the task hia
knowledge of the di^TcfCTi! versions of that piece. At ftr^t a!l
19 unintelligible, bui he %*its here and the^re the same figure
or neurn repeated from time to lime, and he concludes that
'* that represents such and such a. phrase/* because he supposes
it to correspond with a phrase in one of the versions whifh
hi ^a.fu-j. As he contintiE^. he finds some neums and t^gurea
which do not seem to fit into an/ of the versions with which he
\% familiar. He interprets ihctn as he interpreted the otheta,
or ffucBMf at their meaning, and adds them to hti iranslation.
Now, a» ] have said before, our iranaktor knows several dia-
lects of chant, but he will most certainly have a preference for
tome one or another- This is the reason why it is quite pos-
aiblc for two persons to give c^uite ciitlerent ItanAlallona oi the
•amc manuscript; the translation of, say* a Rstisbon tnan will
have a distinctly Ratisbon j^avor. while a Solesmes man will
make hia tiansUtion cunform (o the Sole^mes idean I think,
then, that c[aii[i of superior anthentidty ought to br? abandonedi
I am atill further confirmed In this opinion by observing the
Sol«amcs treatment of two pieces published in the Lihtr Usui\tis\
TaviMin Erge in cantus niodernu^, page I,2t5t by Weber, in F,
4nd the other it ihc AdnU Fidttes .- both notably incorrect
Ai authentic copies of both the^e hymns could hjive been
Uiily ohtaincd, there tS no excuse Eor publishing incorrect onrs,
H<for« leaving this part of Ihc subject, I wish to lay before
cny rejpden tome "modern innances" fn support of my views
COCLC«rilin£ the inierpretation of manusmpls. Every one will,
I think, admit that the modern notation of music has been so
I^g a nettled thing that any doubt respecting a given modern
compoftitioa could be very eatily settled by referring to the
original manuscript which, in most important cases, is still in
eiiitencei and yet what do we tind > New editions of the maa-
i*rs arc coastactly being brought out, edited by musicians of
t^ liraf rank, whose names ou^ht to be a guarantee of conect-
MU.
lo these various editions we (ind changes here, changes
i
Thk restoration of plain-Chant.
there, this note should have be&n that ncte. and that other
nolo i« evidently an inlerpoUtlon, auch a rcadj'ng jn such an
edition is incorrect, and such a passage would have been wnt-
Icn in such another way i1 rhe author XvaA bad a mudcm in-
eUumeni, etc-, etCn
I have before m? a copy of Dachas forty-eight preludes and
fbfl^U^i edited hy Dr. Han^ Hischoff. Tn the preludt and
fagiie in C iharp minor. No, 4 Volume I,, (he author makes
ftotc of 4R different variationa of the uxt ol the prelude and
2i of thn ftigue, so we know that of this particular prelude and
fugue there are ^r didefcni versions, and yet Bach wrote very
carefully and legibly, not In obicurc neums. but in our precipe
modern nm^icAl notation.
Another lEistancc occtjrs in Heellioven's Pasinia.! S>Tnphciiy4
In Peter's Edition, Volume IL, page 9- third score, third bar,
thcrv it an onduUting moveroenl of four iioles in the treble ac-
eonpuiied by the third principal motive of the first movement
in th« bMt> which it afterwards inverted; the treble becoming
iIm ba«« an<l vice ver»&,
I'or A number of years thtr bars four, five, and six, of the
ibinl acOfe in the treble, were silent ; the place of the notes
Mnx occupied by a whole bar rest.
I btvo ■ copy of the Symphony, edited by I. N. Hummel,
la which tboM empty ba;^ cppear Now sotnc critical musi-
cian {iianM unknown), conjectured thai the four barf of inver-
sion, immediately lull owing the pa^s^ige in question^ should
h* an e)eact copy of Ihe previous four bars. He consulted
ll««lhovfln'* mitnuscript and discovered that the three "rests"
In Ihe three enipLy b:irs were not re^ts at all, but were
iiiarki ol continuation which musicians frequer-ily use in their
inanuacrlpi* when ihcy wish the same passage to be re*
p«ai«iV In a recent edition of Beethoven's Sonatas there are
4|NI quite a number of (^utte obvious miMakes, in &pite of the
laet thai the publi*hera have a standing offer of a dollar's
W<*flll of music for every miitake found in this edition. There
It a vary curious mistake in the Sonata in !■" sharp, opus. 78,
whivh hai paiaed the icruiiny even of Von Bulow.
\
THli DOWNSIDE CELHBKATIONS
&V VI. F. <JL'1.NLAX.
[ROM the tower of ihc minster rings the bell Great
B^de. It i^ five and a quartet Eons in weight— ^
ihe ninth largest bell in Hngland. And the sound
boonis out over the Mendip HLlla and floats away
down the vallrys, and the echoes sir*K-h out ih^ir
^:iUi ^I'^i^ii ihc far meadaws; yea I to the distant town of
WeJls.
At its loLUng & thrill of joy teems to pau through the
elms and the beechc? : for the nonce, ihc &ong of the bird^ is
»iiilcd. Kothing h heard »ave the boom, boom, of the deep
voiced bell, as it calU to prayer and praise. And to-day il«
■ouRd It flung out over tht country hke a solemn p^tan of
triumphs ''Quia fecJt mthi magna qui pclens est, ec sanctum
nomen ejus."
After the night corner the day> and sunshine dfcer storm,
and, lo\ the long night of persecution has faded inEo the dead
pait« and the day of hope has dawned. And Great liede pio-
ctaim* it from the high tower and over Ihc hills and dales of
SomeTKtihire. men stop to listen,
YeAlGiday the minster was blessed; to d^y ihc monastic
choir i* to hK opened. From henceforth the psalms of David.
will resound In the sohttidc ; henceforth the praises of tho
lloaC High will rise up ^Jkc inccnHe before the throne; hence-
forth, day aod night from this ^atittuaty of the West, will the
ftont of Si. Benedict offer the tribute of earth to the God of
Through the vista of time we see them as laborcfs in the
Ivgli^h vineyard^ echoing throug^h the cenlurte; comes the
chaDl of the Divine Liturgy. It i& a record of praise which
UCcnded from Benedictine choirs for more than thirteen
laiHlred years.
It was at the voice of the Pontic. Gregory Eh« Great, that
the brethreo came* totting out from the banks of Tiber in the
»a4
The Downside CELESkAT/oss.
[Xov.,
year of grace 557^ They were a bin^I of unVnown men. silent
and strong; and 10 them was euirust«d the mU&jon of pUnt-
tiig the Cro«:» in the land of Ihe Angles.
Thus ihcy arrived on the shores of Kent, and having formed
ihcras^lTcs into A long procc^aion, \i\.^y ratiBcd ^toft th? symbol
of Redemption, and, to the solemn £lrain$ of the Gregorian
chaai. they JuivAnced iflto a land of unbdicf.
la tho» far oil d&ys clviliiatlon xvaii«d upon religion; and
Ch« Eaglisib people had not only to be m&tructed in the Catho-
li< t«itti, tbey bad also to be initiated in the useful arts, and
\tt that f|frcate«c of arts — the art of right government. So, year
by year, t^ so&s of St. Benedict labored and prayed and, lil-
tk by iittle, the li^t of religioci spread over ihc land, and
iliHrty a&d ft%d«iJlf tbe contending elemrntt were welded into
ODit ihm Angles and the Saxons, ihe Danes and the Nor-
■■■■; and t^ey became a i^reat people and ihcy were one^in
aarioMKty ai m faitb.
Uadv tba tiatfirmi cway of the Benedictine monks Cng*
Ind took te place MOOqc the nations, for not only was it a
tn— i^iiiil povvr, bttt — ouabtJe dicttj — it yr^% aUo an island
of laiati IW UmI waa calted Uerne England. It wa« a
iMkB !■ wbicfc tbe poor k»e«- the dignity of labor and ihc
iM lira fMpoaaibitity of v«alth; throughout every shire and
«0ttA|y tbvfv wiated a juA reialion between employer and em-
It ««$ lb«t f«r a Ibovtand years. For a thousand years
lbk% viit^v ckvrch v«a the centre of village life; for a ihou-
mgfil j^4ta tiba iKti4c« of Calvary was ofTcred up from count-
Htt fttefv^ttd Bt^C and daytfron every monastic choir, came
T4 aav tbat ^9 biatory of Ibe English Bcnedjclines is in*
mtJfEWl ft9*> ^* biatory of England's pa&t is perhaps to
l^^i 4 vrvisi^ y^ ^< >* ^^^ which it were wcli to kee£> in
iM^a4 At a leatiaioay to ibe activity of monastic life in pre*
fcaKu^abjn tiuea^ we need only recall the memories of a few
IhlwJbViiflw c««tte«: «>f Dttrban and Westminster, hury and
tt^<t^ttb^Ty. i*& Albans asd Ctnteibiicy, Evesham and Datb,
tofcy ^ji^ QtailiM^T' Wtiftee in stone sre Ihc words of the
VhAbAjbi ^ " DoMiikv diteici decoteiu domus tv^nCl locum habl-
lyilHh MtotM tMtv^ Fo^ A IboDs^nd years the church bells
^^ w ^I| yji^XfA 1a tboae days the spirit of Faiih had
I
<$os.l
THK DOWSSfDE CELBBtfATiOSS.
a«
spfcAd her wings over the lanil — the laiid wh*fe reigred the
peace of God,
Then A blighl Jell upon EngUinl, and sorrow was rile- Silent
now arc the bells and empt/ is the choir ; gone is the faiih
o( the multitude and dcsolau is the island of Eatnis, The cat-
tl« 4re browslni: in the sacred precincls and the dUf stone is
trcKlden under foot, iof the fibrines of J^nglaud have become a
vbcitcr for ihc flight birds and across the ruiricd arch a spider
qiift» her web- Slain or imprisoned la the sacrlng pTiest and
spurned ix the sacrifice. The holocuuritof Calvary is no more,
"Away whh him!" is the cty. "His blood be upon up, and
upon our children T " Then was the veil of the temple rent
avunder: then was the Holy ol Holies prcfaned- Ra^ed were
the abbeys and scattered ihe communities The sons of Sc.
Becedicl have died on the scalTold, und the traditions of a
thou&and years arc ended.
Of (bote three hundred English iJcnedictinc house;, de*
stroycd in four years (1536-1540), no human soul now lives.
Of ;hc old tLngiifih congrcgalion noi one member is ^eFt. But
vtHy! From * noisome dungeon comes a muffled echo; ii is
tbe clank of chains. And behind the prison grating ftitfi a
privonc He is ari old man and almost blind, Ht^ hair is
white and hit head bent with years. Is this a felon, who has
0(»tra{;cd the taw/ Nay; it U Sigebert Buckley, a confcsEor
10 the ancient failh and ft witness to the ancient order, But
tbis iir felony; so he sits in chains. '* Anytus and Melctus
caa kill lac," said Socrates, "but they cannot hurt me." And
wilh A more perfect failh the Christian confeESof folded his
hands and waited for death. He had teen his brethren lan-
guiih in pripon and he had watched them pass out to the scaf-
fold. Ha had £««n the desecration of the holy places «nd
every abbey of his order brought to min. More than thai,
had ho rtot seen the vineyard laid waste, wherein he and his
fareibrcn had Uboird throughout the centuries, until "the sha-
dow of the vintage had covered the hills a\vA the branches
thereof (be cedars of God"? Indeed, it had "stretched forth
ita branches unto the sea, and its boughs unto the river,'* And
■* tbe old RMn wAtclied in spirit from his prison window, and
$aw the tcmpe»i brctk over the fields of God, he might have
repeated the words of Scripture ; " Why hast thou broken
voi« txscaii— If
S26
The DOWf^SWE C£I.£///iA?/OSS.
[Nov.,
down Ihv hedge thereof, so that aW who pas« by \he way do
pluch Jt P Tbe boar out of the woods hath laid it waste : and
a singular wild bcaat hath dcvouE«d it." But his iips only
moved in iiUnt pfal^c ; " The Lord bath givtn an^ the Lord
hath taken away. Blessed be his name," So he sat with
nianaclcil hands and looked forward to hts release, when the
chains of earth would fall from him and he would ^o forth a
fr«e mnn, To the solitary prisoner il £e«Toed as if death were
already stirring in the shadow, for '*he is a tcrong angel, and
of gccat pity." Qut, instead, into the dark dungeon c^mc the
spirit of recompense, leading thither two other conicssurs —
secular priests — who were destined to share his confineinent,
aud to ec«k at his hands th& habit of St. Benedict- And there
in the priion the novices were ijlothrd in the monaatic garb of
OEd England, the three being in chains^ and there did Sige-
bert Bucicley invest the younger brethren with all the rights
and the privilrgts of the old J^n^lish coiiETcgation — which act
was fltcerwardt ratified by the Holy See, And it is through
these three men thai the modern abbeys oi Downside, Ample-
forth, and Douai dale back in dn unbroken tine of succession
to the monk Atlgu5Tinc^ Apostle of Fngland,
Qu their Eub^equcnt release from Ihcir EnglJ&h prison, the
Benedictines made their way to Douai in Flanders, where they
were joined by several of the Elngliah monka who had been
professed in the Spanish Congregation of St. Benedicts To-
Ijcther they formed themselves into the community of Si.
Gregory, in i6it, and it was here at Douai that was founded
that monastery and school where, for nigh two hundred years
tbe sons of i-^nglUh CathoUcs were educated, and whence is-
sued chose missionaries of St. Gregory's who ministered in
secret during the penal days.
In the long line of Gregorians who faced the rigors of per-
rutjon in tbe succeeding years, il is inlcrcsting to know (hat
It was a Benedictine monk who saved the life of Charles IL
when that monarch was in hiding at Bofcohel. For this ser-
vice he was permitted to live unmolested in London, vi/hen
Other Papisii were banished. Curious, too, is the coincidence
tbaE. whnn the aame Stuart King lay dying, It was the same
monk, John Huddleston. who was smuggled in by a secret
door to the royat apartment i and the King, seeing him, said
to his former preserver: "You who once saved my body.
i9o;-J
Tfff^ DOWffSiDE CELSBRATIOUS.
3*7
must jiow save my soul" So John Huddlj^Mon receivtci the
Ki»g into the Catholic Church and heard his conf»fion.
TEic yeiirs vrore un> and Douai cunlinued to be the training
ground for the Knglish ReneilkMiiFii, until the rr^nt^h Revolu^
tion broke over France; and, like An angry tempest sweeping
oir«r a mighty forflsE, acattered the religious iDstiiutions as
though they were but autumn ieaves- The communky of Sr.
Gregory were accordingly cast into prison al DouMenSj and
with them forty-one membcct of the secular dcrgy. Here foi
thirtCHii monlhs they li^ed togtfhfr a tite of contempUlion and
prayer, and the Benedictines having succeeded tn secreting the
aecu&ary re<iutsite9 for Mats, they were enabled to otTer the
Holy Sacfilice throughout their captivity; and the chalice
around which 50 many memoHcs ding is to-day in use at St,
Gre^oiv'B Abbey among^ the hills of S^mcrt^i,
In lh« year J794i the conimunity were liberated frcm the
priaoR at U'^ulleni, and croaking over to Rnj^land they were
hT>«pitabIy entertained at Acton Burnell by Sir Edward Smyihe,
who had been educated by thriii at Douat.
But, apart from the welcome of fritnds, it muEt have been
a sad home-coming, (or what Cardinal Newman once wrote of
llie Banedictines of in earher lime, might have been written of
th«n: "Down in the dust Eay the labors and civilisation of
featurici — and nothing waa left to ihcm but 10 begin all ov<r
again; but this they did without grudgitip. so promptly, cheer-
f utl/t and tranquilly, at ii wtrc by aome law of nature, that the
restoration caroc, and they were Like the flowers and thruba
and (full trees which they reared, and which^ when ill irraied,
tU> nut taWc vcnseance or remember evil, but give forth fresh
branches, leaves* and blossomf, perhaps in greater profusion or
with richer quality, for the very reason thiit the old were
broken off."
Ii waa in thia ?plrii that the monanic observance was be-
ffon again on English solE, and a school slatted under the title
of Acton Bornell College, and there they remained for twenty
year». Then, Jn JWm* fcclirg that the time had come for a
permanent home to be found, the community of Si. Gregory
finally moved to Dciwnhute, in S^imersct.
Through slormi ami through sunshine, through perils by sea
and dangers by land, through political upheavals and national
apoataay, the English EfeneiiiUineE have ecen the iite and fall
32S
The DOiVNSWE CELEBttATIONS,
[Nov.,
o! nations. The)' have outlived ih*; changes gf dynasticSj ard
have kept the way of pea^e. Their oppressors have gone out
into the night, but the Benediciiiies remain; for (he Tudort an*
liuit and the Siuarls are naught; crumbled \% rhe house of
Orange, gone is the line o( the G«orgct, and a Guelf now sUft
on the throne of England*
No longer the isUnd of saints, the country^ has been made
over to the State religion, Of the old shrines nothing remains
but a few stones or a broken arch. What once was k no
more. All i« vanished and gnue. And yet*— even as we listen
comes the echo of human feet, and from out the roisis of lime
we see theinr They come up from the sea shore^ with Augiis-
line at their htad : and, without break or Intermission, ihey
wend their w;iy through the years— from the sijith century even
to our own day. And as the warp and the woof are thieaded
in the loom, so the history of St Benedict's sons is woven in-
to the ^lufl' of our natloaal life. Ifrlngers of light and of peace,
ihey have again taken their place m Somerset, where the mem-
ory o( Glaslon ^lill lives.
The modern abbey at ^rst sight aeem^ to have arisen as tf
. by enchantment, for there it lies In the heart of the Mendip
hitlfi, wiih Tts long perspective of nitnster and monaster)-,
cloister and garth; of musenm and libraries; college wing;.
dormitories, gueiit-houset and servants' qjartcrf. In its vastJiesa
it rccdlEs ancient memories, nnd, like the abbeys of old, it has
grown up by degrees. Not ye^ilcrday was ii begun, neither
will to-morrow see Its completion^ During the past hundred
years the masons have been busy, nor will their de^cend0ntA
cease from their toil- For, apart from its monastic niUsion,
Downside Abbey \% a centre ol intellectual life and a place of
educational activity- Here In the school the labors of th«
m<?nks — many of whom have taken their degrees at Oxford and
Cambridge — ^re supplemented by Uy^masters Jrom the univer^
aities. who, with their WLve;, reside in the village which lie&
oijtside the abbey gates. The Downside school meihod is
formed oil the plan of the public schools of England, For, aa
a comjjcietit mudcrn authority says: "Given the public school
system — backed up by the Catholic sacraments— there is nolh.
ing more suited to the BfUlsh character,"
A spirit ol sturdy Independence is, therefore, encouraged
at Downside, Here there arc no leading strings, Each boy
'90SO
The Don'N&iDK CHLi^intATioys.
2»9
d«velop« on hU own lines, Fram the first each one \s madv
to f«cl hit individual rtsponsibility. *' IJui rrcavil Ic sine le,
tioi\ tftlvftbfi tc sine Tc" Such seems lo be the motto of this
Benedicttne school. In Life a& iti death <vtjy boy must stand
alone, as c-ictk nmsi anawer singly ivhen he ^les in his Jast ev-
aniififtlion ' paper- And 90, from the prep«ifatory »cclton, up
to the sixth form, each is on hU probiiJon — dudying for an
CQUJtncc acholar^ihip into (hat greater school which we call lifci
««d of which the material world is but the threshold.
But, though it Is true that a greater drgree of liberty i»
g>v«ii at St. Grej^ory'^ than is u&ual in our Catholic schools,
cilh«r in England or abroad, it is but fair to sny that the re-
quired itaodafd of conduct li corratpondingly high^ Should 1
boT fait iXi X\{i%, should he but once fall short of the standard
MC up. hv kfl instantly dismt&sed. From this jirdgment there is
iko reprieve. The pupil who is found wanting is sent down,
Nei'er snsy he return- The resutt of this sysiem of training ia
found to ensure a h^alihy tone; and it ii one which augurs
wcJl for the future society in which these boys wilt take iheir
plac*.
To describe the minster would be a lengthy matter— *ihe
buildJn||[ being beautiful in detail; for the modern monk may
say in truth with the ancient: *M have loved, O hord* the
beauty of thy house* and the piaee where thy glory dwelleth/'
Tb« church is cruciform in plin, of which the r^^vt hat yet to
be biailt- The parlion already erected comprises the trari^rpli
and the tower, and the eastern chrvel uf chapels. To these
his now been added the stately choir and sanctuary: six bays
ia aJL Tbe architecture clioscn was the early English style,
but this has gradually given pUfe to the decorattd. between
the castcra chapels and the transept there Is on cither aide of
the church a series of chiipels forming an outtr aisle, those of
the «Otith »i[le beinjj r^i^eil up some thirteen feet to allow
ipace for the north cloister beneath them. A graceful stair-
case in stone built in the thickness of the wall gives access 10
these from the south aisle The original archiiecl was Mr.
Edward Hansomn Al his death in 1^00 he was succeeded by
Ur. Thooai Garper, whoE>e name is associated with King's
Clsapcl, Cambridge, and with the reredcs of St, Paul's Caihe*
dr»t, Under the supervision of Mr, Garner the choir took on
a t>oJd sqisare end instead of the apse, as originally planned,
I
2JO
TtlE DQWSS!DE CELEBRATiOSS.
[Nov.,
and aft the foundations Cor the apse were actually tn posittcn,
he uted them lo tupport the cotumofi of the feretory, thus
partly i^rctervlng tlic former scheme, The choit ih v&rljr jivf*
petiiliculAf ftnd, following rhe prtctdeni ol St Alban'a Abbey,
bu a amgle light on either side of the central wladow whkb
gives an added tense of £pace an^i lofiiDesc.
The resuh of viiriaus changes of design and irejitmcni in
the Downside ntlnster 5ug|^c?t5 a happy link with the oM
English Benedictine a^bbeys and caihedraU which grew grAdu*-
ally to conipletiun. The portion of Che Church now completed,
i.t„ from the caitefo bay of the nave lo the end <A the Lady
Chapel, measuret externally ajo (cet. The breadth acrou the
transept and tower is J2^ fert. In the interior the trao«epls
are %i feet Long, 6$ feet high, and ?^ fcei wide: the choir,
from the chancct arch to the columns behind the illar, nsea*-
ures ijj feet long, 2^ feet wide, and rises (rom 6S to 70 by
the ntiddle Qi the third bay. Krom thi» it wilt be aecn that
in height and breadth the Downside Abbey choir is almoat
jdei^licdl wjth ihose <>f Wofcesler and Truro, The entire build'
ing. insid;- and out, is constructed of Bath stone, which \%
qLiArried in the neighborhood by local masonf, Tht ch;«f
ch article riatic of the interior is (he eitecl of great heighl, due
perhapi to the trdn&epis being narrower than the choir and
nave; whil< the vista of lofty narrow arches down the south
choir ai»]e, with a window of the Sacred Heart Chapel thow-
ini; it\ the erid, and the Lriforium — suggested by the Aog^]
Choir at Lincoln and the graceful trlformm of Westminster
Abbey — may be described && almoM a vision in atone, The
or^an, it n;ay be interc^tinj:: to mention, wai built for King
George IV,, and was u&ed for some years in the Pavilion at
Brighton- It was then procured for Downiide by Count Gin
leppe Maixinght, who had been '^ chapel-itiasler " to the king.—
Of the eastern wait behind the high Altar, the ai range me nt^V
of the three arches strikes one a.s unusual, for it \% cniy to
Keen in rare cakcs: at Salisbury, where the central srch is kiwe
ih.in the side unt^, and at Wells Cathedra^ where the thre
arches are of uniform height. In this choir the ieven "bouis'^
of the Divine Oi^ce are recited by the community and, in ac
cordance with the pre- Reformat! on custom in Knghsh 8<ocdJt' —
l^nc churches, ihe Bleared Sacrament is reserved at th<
altar Otr«r the tabernacle standi an old cruciHx of gr«a
I90S*]
The DOiiWSIDE CELSSttATlOXS.
aji
It hu been attributed to An^rtas Faitut^berger (eEa6-]73>).
whu w<« pcflwtps the greatest arlisL in ivory of his jjciir^d.
But the CTudfix has more than ^n irtUtic valu«, for away back
m the year* it was captured from a Spanish pEraie vessel on
the high seas by Admiral S^rtorius, wliote wife presented it \o
Sr Greg(>ry> Behind the high aliat is the fcreiofj-^a place
of graceful colunrns and curbing arches. In Catholic dayfi it
wat ujual to enshrine here the body of a aalnl, were the
church ao li^rtimaic as to poa^es^ one, and it is hoped beloie
long that the feretory of the modern abbey may be the last
rcsUnK pldU^e of the Venerable Oliver TltinkcE, whose body now
He* yonder in a plain ftrnne tomb \\\ the north Erart&epI, An-
cased of hl}£h treason by the notorious Tltas Dates. Plunket
wat ordered to be hanged, drawn, and quartercd^a sentence
which wu carried out ar Tyburn in the year of grace r6Si,
H< wai tliuj the UbI martyr who testified to the Catholic
faith in England. On the two neighboring columns, and at the
fprmger of the vaulting, are two shieldt. By this JLi^taposition
they are significant On the left are the arms ol St. Thomas
A Beclcet, Archbithop of Canterbury and rrimate of all Eng-
land, mirtyred II70i on the right, the 4rnr« of the Venerable
Oliver riunkct. Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of all Ire-
land, martyred i68r.
Of the many other relica postesaed by St. Gregory's Abbey,
p«rtia|M the mont chcriahcd is the great relic of the Holy
Cro*i^>hown only on Good Friday. One of the largest in
Kngland, it was in former day$ in the Chapel of Queen Mary.
At ber death it came into the hands of John Fcckenhara, the
tatt abbot of Westmintter. Later on the relic was publicly
venerated In (he Chapel Royat at St, James', which was served
by the English Benedictines during the reigns of Charles II.
and Jatnet It-, at which period it wu enshrined in the present
hacdiome reliquary. On the abcKcation of Jame^. and the «nb-
MqucBt di&perial of the community, this relic of the Holy
CrOfi, with other relica ioA a monstfance. chalice, and vest-
ments, were packed up in a strong che»t and hidden in the
rauin of a CaihnUc distiller named Langdale, who lived on
Holborn Hill, In the year iS.-l? the chest was discovered, to*
gether with a document stating that the contents belonged to
the EdgEibh Brne'JictlucTL of the Southern Province; and in this
way tbey paised into the hands of the monks at Downside.
»J»
TJiE DOiySSIDE CKlESfiAT/OXS.
[Nov,,
A« an im«re«liTig link between the present community and
those of StuiTE timed, it may be mentioned that ihe nionk> John
Huddlviflon, O^S.Bh, who mintslcTnil |o CbarJe£ II., if to-day
repreicnred at Downside Abbey by ht$ dcsccrdftnt, D, Roger
ILudfilciton, to whose courtesy 1 am lodebled for much uf the
information contained tn this paper.
Of the 3ev«nt<t^ chapd; whtch form a corona round Ihe
choir aad tanctuary. it xs Impossible to speak. Each is instinct
with icaa^l^ryt tthich U earrwd oot both in stuiued glats and In
■Co>a«« Of ibe bosses and capitals, no two «r« alike. Evtry
Htakt of d^cofatJOA t* pccnLiar to its dedication. Thus \t%
Ui« Central bosi of iIk Clsapel of St. Jo&eph ar? itiodclkd (he
to«U ol ih« Carp^**' ^ Naiareth: while the capa oi the
v«ultiniE shafts sbow the sue, moon, and tUrs in reference to
Uh itnifOt of the Fairiarch Joseph; and of the fat and lean
Mat m4 tiM tars of oheat as seen by Pharaoh. And round
the c^pvl aft ««it«incd the different leaves of the trees Indl-
^ttOiAt to Mostiae, which were consecrated by the labors of
lh» Sm of Hut.
I» th« l>ady Qiap*l each bit of carving 39 fraught with
mftliltg A¥ov« the columns at the entrance, whence rise the
ft^fcl #4 Mev^ art tTttwJnrd the [eaves and Ihc fruit of ihfi
Wlt^v Im^iiI* the chapel the Mcond Eve has triumphed; and
Ihi Am44 *f SJ« ^^ tl^ren way to the Lily of Ferrection, and
IkM MM*^^' 1^* walls every capital drpicts. in the ian£uage of
th» laie ^iitttts of the Virgin Mother From the I^dy
l^i« la 4 little winding stair, which leads down to the
^)^M( 4U. NNf'a under eioft, where the greater benefactors lie
t)4k »lth«i s^de of the entrance is carved an houfglaES
ft t^J'tltVt BS il to remind us that, as the poet says,
*^l)«ath mows down moriaU like a field □/ corn,
y^me ikW each stroke, and others stand awhile."
Anil 4K*^n> i^ th* groined vault of the beautiful Chapel of St.
|lHt««M. VVtry bOM bvtn a coat of arms representing the chief
Kuit'Uh lUtwdMino abbeys and priories destroyed by Henry
Vlil Tlw windows of this chapel call for a passing notice.
Itl» Wi>^ fthov« Iht «ltftr represents St, Benedict as Patriarch
«t «fMUfVi mMWIkisni. surrounded by ihe international saints
u^\ bii Mtftvr Tho tide window shows a band of Kngtish Ben«-
MtHU iltuki^fd fOttud Sl AuguMloc of Canterbury ; and
tm-l
THK DOWNSIDE CELKSHATiOXS.
33i
tfcc highest portion of the central light (contains figiiies of the
three abbots of GlastoDbury. Reading, and Colcliestcr, who,
with four of Ihetr ^ubjcctb, were tnartjred in 1539 for refusing
1o recogniie the foyal supremacyr
Built over the south cloister are two large chapels, of which
one if dedicated (o AM Monkt, the oihcr to the English Mar*
Ijrrs. The Utter dedication E«eniE peculiarly appropriate* for
noc only i« Downside Abbey Ihc *ucfes»or of GlastoTi, whose
lut tbbot with two of his subjects were sUin in EU^abethan
timoK, but of her own coniTnuniiy Jive won the m^r^r's crown,
wbile m«ny more only escaped deaih on the vcafEotd by dying
in prison. The five Downside maityri. all of whom ha^'e been
pfonounc«d VenErablc^ arc; Dciii John Roberts, the first prior
of Uiv infant monastery at Douai, martyred in 1610; Dom
Maurai Scott, i&ii ; Dom Ambrose Barlow, 1641; Dom Philip
PowetJt 1646; and the g«ntie lay brother, Thomas PiLkcnngt
1679. This chipel o( the Englt&h martyrs has recently been
erected by the family of Abbot Gasquct, rresident of the
English Benedictine Congregation^
Bat now the dnya of persecution ate over, and tO'day is
tbe opening of the minster choir. Special trains arc running
from Bath to Chilcomptoii- From the norih and the south
they cotne. and the Somerset lanes arc ailir, and the country-
side stands wondering. For, as described in the book of
Micheas. "^ lomnlt of chariots hath aMomshrd ihc inhabitants
of Lachis." and a variety of carriages and motor cars have
taken up their po»titons ouutde the abbey minsier. Among
tb« sinsts who have already arrived are the Archbishop of
Weitntinslcr and Ihc Archbi&hop of St, l^ciiit. U, S- A. After
them come Ihc Archbishop of Cashcl and Emly* the Bishop of
Kerry, and tbe Benedictine Bishop of Port Louia from be>ond
the i^ah, Tlieire are bishaps of England and bishops of Walcfi;
there are mitred abbots from ^^t^ty Btnedicttne abbey in Eng-
land and sc^^ral from abroad ^ from Belgium, Germany, and
Trance; there are mon^ignori und canons; there are beads of
reJigioiu orders, and of secular pricfis not a lew. while atr^ong
th« laiiy are representatives of many of the well-known names
of Kngliind ; friends and benefactors; past pupils, and tbe
parcatfl of prcKnt schoolboyti; there are archiiecie and men of
letters; there arc several editors and a regiment ol special
CofrcApoadeniH.
the abbey, togeihcr wilh many of iht Uymen- The rest of the
men And alJ o( the feminine element arc accommodaied in the
viUige, which Ues ouuidc the lodge gitci. This little village
of Siratton-on-lhp-Fos&e is built be^ifie the old Koman road
which dales from the time of Julius C^sar, B. c. i$. Straiton
is referred to rto^Vva-daya a& the Rom^n village, ai^d a " Romm
village" it is: where the spirit of ihc Catholic faith h tipper-
most, and where a gentle old world courieay — that faithful
handmaid of religion— <carne& one back to apoalolic days. It
19 here that the abbey servants live, and the visitor to ^tral-
ton-on-thc' Fosse may lodge at the cottage of the chief butler
and hU wife; or with the shoemaker or the village blackamtthi
And at each collage one is sure of finding that charm and
simplicity which has come down from other days.
The Downside celeb rati on s Lasted three days- On each morn-
ing Matins were chanted at 5 A.M.; after which pTivate IVTa^sr^s
followed until 8 o'clock At 11 o"cl(>ck a Solemn Votive Ma«
of St. Gregory waft said on the lirst day by the Biihop of the
Dloc«£e ; the preacher on ihis occasion being Dr. Hedky, O.S.B. ,
Bi»hop of the Welsh diocese of Newport- His theme was well
chosen: '*The Monastic Choir." And in the language of a
achoUr he spoke oi the preeminent place which the monastic
choir holds in tbe life ol every Benedictine community ; whence
the psalm} of David rise up in a never-ending ^uccevion of
prai&e^ of th<<iBe wonderful p&alijts which have been the burden
vi the adoring ^ong of the catacombs and of the desert and
of the cloistern The f^rst of auch choirs in England, said
the preacher, was in the church of St- Martin of Canterbury.
Other choir? there had been before Augusiine — choirs on
the coasts and islands of northern seaa and in the valleys
of Western Britain; the choirs of Columbaf Keniigcrn- Du-
bficiufi, and l^avid. Hnl on the advent of the Benedictines in
Kent began a more durable choral liturgy, which reached its
fuUcsi perfection before the upheaval of the siAieenth century.
But the praife of GoiS cannot die. " for so lon^ as Jesus Christ
decgns CO he wherever faithful hearts are gathered, so long
will there be, fiot only the Divine OfRcB of the Catholic Church,
but that Office which, under th« Church's auipices, the monaatlo
order humbly darca in its own form and spirit to offer to
Almighty God. . , - Acd although the world seems mor«
I
I905']
The DOlVJo'SFDE Celeeratfoxs.
n%
busy^ more complicfltcd in its motiv^^s. and more indifferent: than
crer il was before* yet the spirit of the desert, ihc spirit of the
cloUter, lite spirit oi thr monastic choir t& living &\.\\\, and at
tius EDOmeni ihat spini, like the brt^afh of spring, ia bringing
A frefth grecane&s aiid promise over many regions of ihe old and
the n«w world."
After Bishop Hedlcy's sermon a letter was read from Ihe
palpii from Pi>pe l*iu* X " (o hi* wdlbdoved son, Abbot Ga*-
ijuet"; in which letter the lioly See conferred specid prlvileees
forever on St- Gregory's Abbey and minster; and on all Inking
part in the Downside celebrations he bestowed the Papal Bene"
dicUi>o, besidei exempting each from ihc faM of that Ember
Day.
At ::i5 r. ki. lunch was served throughout the triduum to
ihf«« hundred guests^for a spirit of hospitality is inscparablfl
from the Kule ol St. Henedici. and with a lavish hand was it di£<
pensed aX Downside Abbey. Afternoon tea wnt at 4:30; and
At 5 o'clock the minster bel) rang out for Pontifical Vespers.
Compline w>i^ chanted ai o'eloclc-
On the second day, Abbot Ford pontificated at the SoJcoiD
Requiem for the dead — of thote genefOLia dead, both laymen
Aod munkfi, who throughout the years had buill up St. Greg-
ory's.
The discourse on this occasion was given by Abbot Gaiquet,
wlio took for his text: " And I htfaid a voice from heaven eay-
tng to me: Write: Itte^^ed are the dead, who die in the Lord.
Krom hcQceforth now.saith the Spirit, thaE ihcy may icfit from
their labors; for their works follow ihem*' (Apoc. xiv. ij). In
hi* Arfdreaa, The speakcT asked a remembrance fer the souls of
those who had gone before; for the makers of Ssl, Gregory's-
Comin|> from the lips ot England's greatest hlsioridn it was a
Riasleriy review of three hurnired years,
The preacher testified to the munificent benefactions of
Philip d« Caveral. Abbot of St- Vedaat'», at ArrA^. who builG
for them the original monastery of St Gregory at Douai, in
161:; of the Archduke Albert, of Renders, And of Ifiabellft,
his wife — co<foijnders with Abbot Caverel; of Tope Urban
Vlfl. (Barbennl), who united the various new fcundAllcm with
th« old Hnglifh congrej^ation by bis bull " FkniAta/' 1633: of
the long list of confessors and martyrs who had languished in
prison or h«d died on tJie ht^A^Tuld in Tudor or Sluait times;
>J6
TH£ DOiy^SSt>E CELBBfiATfONS.
(Nov..
of Sigcben BtickUy. who had handtd on to thctn Ihc tradi-
IJoni or A thousand v«ars: of Doni Leander a Sto. Mariino, of
whom D. Sereue Cressy said tliit "for his piety and univcrhal
leaffliog [he was] famon* throughom Chnstpndotn," and who,
during all ihc trouMous days, f^mained the p<r*onal ffknd of
Archbishop L^ud and of the statesman Windebank; of the
heroic sons af Douat who. iti ihe I-'rench Revolulion, sufTcftd
imprisonment for conscience sake; of Sir Walter Smythc* «vho
received Ihem on their extle from Douai, and who> during a
space of twenty years, hospitably cnlertaincd the community
at his country seat at Acton Bufnell; of those great Gregoiian
miafiionarics who afterwards Aet gail fiom England lo labor in
distant vineyards: of Dom Bede Folding, the father of the
AustrilJAn Church, the first Bishop and affcrwards the first
Archbishop of Sydney; of William FUcid Morris, Vicar Apos
tolic of Mauritius, aud afterwards auxiiiary to Cardinal Wise*
man; of Archbtghop Ullaihomef the Ncslor of the restored
English hierarchy; of Bishop Brown, Vicar Apostolic of the
WEstern Ui&lricl in 1840, and afterwards lir*.t Bishcp of New-
port and Menevia ; of Charles Henry Davii^, first Bishop of
MaitUnd; and lastly, of Ro^cr Bede Vaughar. who succeeded
D. Bede Folding to the Frimatial Sec of t-'anlerbury, It was a
record of strenuous work — a march past of great men. It was
]ik« a mighty recessional, of which the refrain "Lest we for-
get" sounded throughout. And mingled with these names
were the names of the later incnds and deceased benefacEor^,
whoie generosity had raised up the modern pile of Downside
Abbev and school; ''Blessed are the <Iead who die in the
Lord . . for their works follow them."
And now it 11 the third and iin&l day of the celebrations,
on which the Primate of England is to pontificate. The min-
ster is fnlL The monks are stunding in their stalls on either
stde of the monastic choir, in serried ranks, and from their
midst rise up the strains of the Gregorian chant- The Little
Hours of the Divine Ofhce have hareJy died away when slowly
along the sonih aisle comes the procession of ministers for ihe
Solemn High Mas^. First the cross bearer and acolytes ad-
vanee^ then the secular priests, followed by the in embers of
religious orders; after them a company of canons; theti these
gjve place to the monsignori in their purple. P'ollowing after
them come four cantors In magnificent copes, then a long sue-
iflOS]
The DonnsfDE CBif-BitArioNS,
»37
cwiton or Rirtrcd ibbots. cacb Accompanied by hU monaailc
cbiplain. Th« Bishops of England, lidand, and Wa1c£ come
oext; thvn tbe Archbishop uf Cashi^l: aftpr him the Arch-
bishorp of St- LouU* and finplly the PrEmaTe of all Kngland,
«Uh hi> crOiicr and sta^; and supported by the assiataul mJn*
iaterf, trxiii' bearer, and ^in\ylzp. They pass on up ihe diOLT, &
blaac of vivid color beiwecii the ^unibrr fovi% of manks,
After ihe lir«t Gospel the BUhop of Clifton mouTiu ihe pul-
pit ftnd preaches on Ihe achievementfi of the English Bcncdic-
tl>c Congregation. It is a piece of brSLJinnt oratory, so illum-
inating, so graphic, so full of enthusiasm that every c^e is
rivetccd and many an eye j^ dim, a^ he sweeps through the ages
and recaltfi the glories of andeot days. And ever and anoo he
rcvcfti xo the days of persccmion, when the brethcrn tay In
boadagc; or to that long period of exile when the> could mln-
Uler oaly In tec ret ; and Anally he recails iheir homC'Ci^ming,
whco they bcf^an once more to build up in Old England the
fiitb of their fatheis. And the Lord was with them and ihcy
conquered; a»c| n& with thi^ir spifilual labors, so with lh? ma-
larial, for the beauty of the mmster, whose opening they were
DOW eelcbratinif, vied in sjeg and perfection with many of the
catbedrala of medixval days. Once more, after the vicissitude;
of thirteen hundred year?, religion had triumphed in England^
snd the day bad again dawned when "the Mcrificr of Juda
aod of Jcru^aEem ^hall please the Lord, as in the days of old,
and In the ancient years."
So the High Maes continued^ and as the OiTertory gave place
lo ibe Preface, and the Preface to the Canon, one could not
bat b« vuuvlc by the wonderful ceremonial which is the birih-
rifhc of Catholicism; of the lighted candlea and the clouds of
iocentv; of the matsing of color and the grouping of figure!^
the Archbishop on his throne, together wtth his assistants and
nifliatcr*; of the deacons in gorgeous ^ciiments; of the rows
1^ prcUlea, arcbbithops. bii^hop^. and mitred abbots; of the
Unes of ainonfl and the purplC'Clad monsignori, while in the
foreground stood the serried tanks of St. Benedict's sonf, and
at the entrance to the chancel the four cantors in scarlet
cop^ And all the tima, accompanying tfa<^ ceremonial, can:e
tfce riiiiig and falling of that volume cf song which wcKrd forth
la praiM and worship from consecrated lips, unid Ihe echoes
fill ibe vaitness and the great minuter seems instinct with awe
I
and TtveteT\cc, As ihe supreme momenl advances, the voices
become liu-shedt then stil]. It 'i% is if no human putsc stirs.
It U like the silence of Cdvary. when " the eanh brought giiis
ai gticf) the frtijl: of the curie. barTCH thorns, hoJlow reed, and
wood of th« Cro£j; and the tea made ofTcring of Tyrian pur-
ple and the sky veUed her face in grtat daikncfiS, while !h«
nation of priests crucifietl for the last lime tbcir paschal lamb."
The sacnfttc J5 consummated. And across the former dark-
neit br«a1<s the light of tha Resurrection. For now the portal
of death hai become the gate ol life, and "remembrance cries
an end to forgeiting, "
The notes of the Tc Deum ruih forth from the organ like
a cloud of «pirit« set free. In a tumultous cry of praise and
gladness the cchocf spring and leap through space, (ilimg the
lofty arches, climbing ever higher and higher, to find a la^t
foothold in the groined vaultJdg aw^iy up overhead.
Te Deum ! The song of thanksgiving is taken up by human
lipe; for behold, this U the day ol «alval)on, when the sacri-
fice of the New L%v/ ■' shail please the hind, as in the days of
old, and \t\ the ancient years. • . ."
In the solitudes of Sjmeriiet there is peace. The philosophy
oi ihc world haa given place to a higher philosophy that iir
not of earth. The fret and turmoil die away into silence.
*'Levavi ocutos meos in montes/' says the Psalmist, "unde ve-
nint auxijium niihi," And at Downside Abbr^y the mJnd of man
is drawn upwards and in the sweep of the heavenward the humiu)
heart linds reft.
I
A POSSIBLE CALENDAR.
B\ OEOftCE M. SEARLE. C-S.P.
NEW plan for the ftrrangEment of ihc caJeiLdar
haf lately, according to ihc p3per£« been pro-
posed by M, Flan^marion. The object, nppar-
enlly, was to avoid the prcactit sbtfling of the
days of the wtck over ihosc of the month; and
it wfts to be accomplished by h^vm^ na extra day^or two daya
for leap year^^— whkh would not count as week daya at alL-
Sunday, for instdnce, might be irmde the isl of Jftiiuary^ obvi-
*mi\y Saturday would ihen be the next 30th of December; the
3 101 would not be considered as a week day at all. and Sun-
day would again begin the next year-
The faul objection to this plan, for both Chmtiatta and
Jew*, would be that the week days, particularly the Saturdays
and Sundays, would no longer be thote determined by the reg*
uJat succession o( the weeks; Ihcy Kimply would not be the
real «'ock days at all,
But it IE pofitible 10 accomplish the object iatended without
«ncuuT]tering this di^iculty. Let ub suppose ChE regular ytar
to con&i« ol 5? weeks or ^64. days; and let every fifih year
bav« 53 week& or J71 day&. This extra or IntercaUry week
might be put in at any tinje oJ the year which would be mo&t
COi^venlent, and might be celebrated as a holiday time, or in
£OEne other EptcUl way. 01 course it would be most natural
10 lake the years ending in o or 5^ >uch as 1910, 1915, etc,
10 hmvtj j7T daytn
ThU would, however, mikc the average year rather too long;
■Iiic< four timea 3^14 ia 1,456, to which adding 571, wc have
It$l7, atid dividing by 5, we have for the Average 365.4 J*ut
If we make the century and mtd-century years. 1900, 1950,
}000, etc. to have 364 liayt, and alvo add one more of 364
day*, ftuch a> '975^ 2J75i dc,. in every -lou years, we shall
bavc ifl 4CO y«ari 329 oJ 364 day» attd 71 of 371 da^s; the
i
UO
A POSSiBL£ CALESDAfl.
[Nov.
jil wiH be :46.og7 days in 400 year}, which U exactly whal
I Grtgoriin C*len(3ar give*,
ll Lit iruc thai the dlsplacemcfit of any partkufar day ffom
average or mean pfacr! in ihe season would be, on this plan,
much as three and a halt day£, Instead of only half a day,
as at prrwanC ^ but that seern^ of httle cnn sequence, as the sea-
aonal change in that ttoie U really imperceptible lo people in
gcntral, and atuonomDn coutd easily become acctistomcd fo it
If we reduce the normal year to ^64 days by dropping out
tbe 35th ol February, av would seem most natural^ and make
Sunday the i«t ol January, we should have, of couise. New
Y«4r'> Day and Chrmcmaa always on Sundays the secular oclc-
bvation could be on the Monday following. Decoration Day
and the Faurth of July would always occur on Monday, whicb
woubd be for ui an obWous advantage^ The irtlercalary week
would RiOM naturally occur between April and May, as May 1
WQ«UI *lw«ya fall on Sttuday.
It a«edi hardly to be said that this calendar is not proposed
ttHoualy; with any idea, that is to say. of its actual adoption;
Ikfr difllcullic* are too contidcrable, and the advantages not
aunicient to warfant any such expectation. But it certainly
W^'tuld be an advantage in some ways to have a year in which
p^«iy day of every month had its fixed day of the week to fall
iHt. It would dispose of the whole matter of perpetual calcn-
itart for Ihr future^ Easter woufd always fall on the ^7th of
Msri^h. or the .^d, loth, t7th, or 24th of April; its calcula-
iLoii mifht fi«rhaps be easier than at present.
I
Current Evcnte.
The difitiiigii;bbi[Lg feature of the
P*«e Tr«ad«. |ji«i few wccka has been the mak-
ing oi pacts and covcnanis rcgit-
Utiag Jn a peaceful ^vay the relatii^n of various Stales. The
modt nocabte of f hcse agreements is, oi enurse, the treaty o( peace
concluded at Portsmouih between Russia and Japan, hy which
the recent war was teiininitcd in a mjinner satj^faclory to the
UJier Bnd p«rhMpti the grcaur pHrtt nf the huniftn riice. Scarcely
]«M noteworthy anc< Important li the Treaty between Great
Briuiii iiitX Japm, which was, inderd, aignvd before the Torls-
mmjlh Treaty, but wu? not published for some Ultle time adcr-
wards. Following upon these came the Agreement between Swe*
den and Norway, whi^h is perhaps the mo£t rcmaikable ever
recorded in history. That twQ nations, united for ?o many
ycAn, should consent to septLrate peaceably, and to do this on
the demand of the weaker of the two, without the shedding of
a iiir)]|t^e drop of blood, sliows a tnarvelous degree of sell-control,
and should (although we fear it will not) fotm &n example for
the other ntttonfi who are Ljvarreliitg,
The long-discussed agreement between Germany and l->ance,
w&th reference to the Conference about Morocco, has at last
been made, and, although it i^ not bO far-reaching a> was ex-
pccted, it ha5 brought to an end a stale of things which, if va-
fioaa rumors may be believed, was dangerous in the extreme.
The way ii now open tor holding the Conference of the Foweis
tateref^ted in Morocco -md (ot Lhc mitigation thereby of the hor-
lorv wbich exist tn that tinhappy country. Without a formal
Agreement, action in common has been taken by the chief lltiro
p«4in States to place further r«4lriclLonB upon the powrr of the
Turk, and to render life in hifi dominions somewhat Ices intol-
erable- And last of all there is a probahjiity that the long ex-
istent unfriondtine&s of Great Britain and Russia may be re*
moved and th^i terms of agreement settling their i:hicf dtlfer-
ences may be made. The summoning of a second meeiJrg of
the tlague Peace Conference by the T^ar, with the ouncurreree
of IIm Pretitlont, indicates how ^reat \n the strength of the de-
fire for peace, and the almost triumphal entry accorded to the
Uller on his return to Washlnglou shows the appreciation
i
tSoTH tor peace. On
Aostriji and Hun-
t to geoeianv fdt tn
froo being peHecily
DtAorbinces have not,
A b««a to namtrous or so
^ tikrr ««rv in the first bftlf
tafl<«iiA«ittMj riots, buE ]e£»
•i ■■Hi.bnKTer, there has
» «txecw«s aad b^ r^-
V flMl^ ibaii was done
iMi oversrottn Eciplre,
iL In the Cau*
o4 asotbcr, of whfcb
Bt ■WBcroas And the
I are HohAimnEdafic^
■«B *tn»ini1 at Baku bas
• OK* for DO religion, or at
Aitf eciigkoo or ju&tice. The
y| 4tt«. The owners of the
fMpcii)!- At a fon^quence,
hnn l««M bbdtmaiJ an both
■e^ectmg to protect
■rctti >o far as i^
tberebi'lo ttr<alic:n both,
'» po««r brld the vary-
h«r reai weakness was
M^ Aq ouSbrcah look
trth of property
to att <«d for an indcFiniie
irf Aft iMltict ift frhown by the
^ait^ 4«Vtt iirt of ibetr vkums alive
OOl confined to
yOTitTix Uiroufboui which
bHgandAgr. An
1 90S- J
CUJUtBNT nV£^!TS.
a43
Oae good e^eet of all tlic^a horrors has breti to make what
wa« evident before still more ewidenl— the utlcr imfilnps& and
Qielcstn««s of the autocratic system dominant for so long in
Russia. Th« evenis which have tafcen place iri the Caiica£u$
have Aitimafcd thr rrlornnng {ntt\y lo <]l greaicr exeitions,
io order to secure a more reasonable system of government.
Hopes oi success are brighccf- Ai Arst tho<c anxious for re-
form were indiiicd to have nothing Lo do with the scbeme out-
lined by the Tsaf in hi* mantfcsto. To many it Jeemed lo
prombe so Ihtle ak not to be worthy of serious attention.
What, lor cKample, was lo be tlionghl of a rcpfesentalive as-
scmbly^ the electors of which ntimbered less than one hunctred
thousand out of a poputation of one hundred and twenty mil-
lions? But further reflection has made the leaders see the
wisdom of milking use of the talent^ ^mall though it tie,
vbich. with great reluctance, ha^ been eonfided to (hem. That
Ihc petJpIe should be allowed to criticize Grand Dukea and
Governors at all is. in itself, a great coneeasion. But it is le$d
lor what it is in Itself, than for that to which it Is lo lead,
thM the reformers value it- Accordingly, they are going to
use the present concession as a means of securing fuller bene-
fits. Another thing ihat makes the outlook more hopelul 1ft
the face that* on the part ol the authorities, good faith ^ecms
to ezifii and a real desire to carry out ihe scheme honestly.
^Tbe details are berng worked out for its praciicat realization.
Moreover, ceruJn things involved In the calling of an elective
Auentbly, auch as freeJum ol the press and of meeting and ol
ipeechp have been recognited and granted.
For the first time In the history of modern Russia meet^
inps have been held to diiCu^E political questions, irieelinge
vich which the police have in no way inierfered ; and writers
ill the press are alfowed to make public their opinions with*
out the dread of the censoi. And &a there is good rca&on
lo hope that the anarchy which has existed so long in the
fovcrnmcnt, and which has been the source of the anarchy,
oppression, and corruption so widcJy prevalent U\ the Enrpire,
aiay be cleotruyed by ihe public discussion ■>( public que&Iicrs
and by the formation of a strong public opinion lo which all,
h^gh and loWf will have to bow, and that in this way law and
order may take llic place of arbitrary and capricious rule, nnd
the impending revolution be averted.
i
m account of Ihe ceremoi
^jfi^nm ^ ihv Onbodok Church, look with m benevaleni eye
^ton aU ^^ prticeedingB of Ihc Rusajan govcrnoient and qucF-
ifon ih« rmtb of th« enormities laid to its charge. But che
cof>Cf* H*^* wbich hAV« recently been made by thai very govem-
nieat tfe thctt«clve» evidence oF the antecedent state of things,
^^ ibovr bnw Kre&t ire the wrongs which in subjects have had
loMltr. Tbe edict gr^nlmg religious Loleratton, recently iffucd,
a«4 tte cQtt*c<]ueni return to the Church of many thousands
of IT^kicf. rcc«ii to recneitibrancc the fact that withio the last
t^tXt T^^n lome five hundred thousand have been forced by
•WVjr poutbic means 1o enroll themselves as mrmberfi of ike
Orthodox Church' Their churches were closed, their biihop^
4i^0*Vd and exiled, m^ny thousand families were piini&hed for
mitUflce by tfanapoiiatton into (ar-off governinerts, and the
rest, whether they consented or not, were in^ribcd on the
tT|pttei» ol the oflicUt church. This was ihe condition of
thint;! before the decree was issued; the ifTett of the decree
ka« been cJcher actually to restore communion with the Catho-
lic Church of same half a million of converts, or at Tea^l to
render it easy for them to be restored.
Another Ukase has been issued which^ by granting conceft-
»ions regulating religious teaching, the representation of the
nobles, and the acquisition of landed properly in a part of
Poland, manifeBts likewr^c the injustice oi the antecedent if'-
£im£. This rigimf aimed at the Rus&ification of Poland by
suppressing the Polish language in the schools and in (he
teaching of the Catechicm. by preventing the acquisition of
landed property by Polish peasants, and by excluding the no-
bility from that ^mall >^haie in the management of public
affairs which is posacs^ed in other parts of the Empire by th«
Zeoiitvos, All these restrictions have now been abolished* and
to all appearances the aUcLJipC to Russify the Poles abandoned.
On the other hand* the Poles, at leasL the most respon^ble of
them, have given up the idea of independence and of ever
again forming a sejiarate hingdoin; their clTorit are now con-
centrated upon securing autonomy and the frc^cdom to practise
tb«{r religion and lo preserve their national customs. The
old methods of repression have completely failed to root out
and destroy the national ideas. In fact, notwithstanding the
oppression to which they have been subjected^ according lo a
190S J
Cl'RREXT BVEMTS.
^4S
well-informed wnter : "The Poles in Ru&stSt sai-e for politici]
mfluence, had A\Tt9.dy more tban a fair £harc of sociaL, com-
merciil^ anil poliC^CHl imporlaiice. Thr induEtrial output of Iho
kingdom of Poland alone Arose in tweniy-spven year« from
ftxcy-four millions of rouSles lo half a milliard^ and formed in
th« Y%AT 169S « full sixth of the whole production of Rusfiia.
Poles take the le^d Jn mony professions; Polish wtiter^ are
<ai<tQg the moat popular authors; Polish officers of all gradcv
hav« fallen by £Core5 in Manchuria; Polish do<:ior£ havetcr<ffd
ihe wounded, Ehc Poles foroi more than twenty per ceni of
the rank and file of the ariny/*
With the recent Ukaae a new era bcgia«i Sirange a.& it
niiy seem, the Poles in Russia have now a much larger amoiint
of liberty than the Poles in Germany, Ir Pruaaian Poland,
where I'oici form eighty and more per cent of the popula-
tion, they have no right In gi/e their children reitgiou^ in-
struction in lh«ir own language— polish, \^. indeed, totally ban*
ishcd from the schools — and und«r ihe new rtgulaiions they
have no right to pari:rl utit and colonize [and puTchased lioni
their own compalriots or from Cfrman owners. The same rea-
•on which led the Ruisijn government to remove restrJctiona
has mads the Geiman government do just Ihe oppofite. In
bath cosci, it was because the Poles, given a fair chance, were
alwaya the most succestfu].
Orrmany.
hrin^t upon a country,
whtch people endured.
"I would not forget the deep im-
prcEsion made upon me by the
sorrow and anguish which war
and by the sutTerJngs and hardships
Thia explains why, aa ruler of this
land, I make it my chief care to see that peace is preserved
Jor niy country." In ihete terms ihe Kaiser replied to one of
hia gcncraU who had &$4urcd him that ho was a soldier and
ihax there waa no more burning de«ire in \ws heart and no
more eager longing in his soul than to ^how how he could die
Ott the £eld of battle for the Emperor and for the honor and
flofy of hilt country. Two day* afterward?, however, the peace*
tovinf feeling* of ihe Kmperor seem 10 have vanished ; for on
th« parade of the Righth Army Corps, stationed at Coblcntx,
he described them as a fioiilier torpB, noticed the fact Ihal it
H6
Current EyefiTS.
[Nor..
did not Aj»p«3r before Inm in parade uniform, but in marchtng
ofiler, like a ship with \u d«cks cleared for action, ^ccenliuit-
ing hi^ ddlght by the remark ihatn '* The finest uniform \h^^
l*ru9sian soldier can wear \s the dr^ss in which he victoriouslf
fftce^ hJa foe in the field," As Ihe tlmperor spoke near the
hordertand of France, And in Ihe midst of the long-protracted j
ncgoti4tic>ns with referctice lo Morocco, ihe elTcct produced'
was the reverse of thai proiiviced by the speech delivered ociljr
two ^iiy$ before at Homburg. li aho ju^iiri^s the name given
«t Vienna to the KRiscr, whcr« he is called ^'Wiltiftm the Sod>
den.'* inasmuch a£ he claims the right, independently of all
control, to make peace arid wax. The states tti Eniope in
thi£ important respect are in unstabk cquiLibriunii for do on«
knowi what course mity be Ukea by the supreme ruler of the
German ^mpiit At the present time t^ppctifalicn is ti\c it\
lo what altitude he will assmne towarda RusEla; whether he
win ify to supplant France, or whether he will endeavor 19
form an illinnce with both Trance and Ruteia againitt Great
Britain. The position of the German Empire is undoubtedly
drfficull. An outlet for its popuUtton i» urgently needed. Tht
Emperor does noi wish to ]o$e his subjects, but every door
seems closed. The colonial poages^iong of Germany arc not
fitted for immigration; South America U ^uiiablc, but the
Monroe doctrine prevents the acquisition of any part of lit
territory. These aspirations Tor an extension of territory are
legitimate; there Arc other aspirations which are ilJegitimatc —
thoM 9f the Pan-Germans, Hut whether legiticnate or ilUgt-
timate, they have made Germany the danger »pot of Europe.
Tne moit nurndfi>u9 of the political parties in Germany^
the Social Democrjits — ha^ been holding its annual meetings If
all the viewft of thtt party were as reasonable as ihote whicb
it holdt upon foreign aFfair? Ilie anxiety felt as to the main-
tenance of peace would be greaciy lessened. There is no doubc
that the workingnen of Germany have a clearer vision of what
is best for the country than tho^e who are in the actual pos-
acBtion of power. And as they are so niimerOEis and so vitW
organised, hope may be entertained that they will be able to
check and to control the caprices of the present wiclder o
ihe destinies of the nation-
I90SJ
CL'I?X£\T EVE^iTS,
247
The conclusion of th« Agreement
Fnmce. wih Germany settling (he ques*
tjons lo be discussed by the Con-
rerence of ihe Powers, with rGfcience to Morocco, has relieved
France in a great measure from ihe anxiety felt ^d widrly and
t» long &» to the objects of the German Emperor, The seiUc-
mcnt of the Icrms of the agrecnicnt was confided to a new set
of negotiators more tntimateiy acquainted with the existent
state of things in Morocco, Days and weeka, however, paa^cd
away without a result being reached. But not long afler the
Peace of Portsmouth h&d been made, the lerm^ were settled.
What (if arty) connct^tion exists between the two events time
may perhaps dLsclose. The Agreement is fairJy salLefacCory for
France, since it prevents the discjssion of qucMLons at the Con-
fercQce which she looks upon as already seUEed, especially her
right to police the frontier of Morocco bordering upon Algeria.
The advantageous concessions recently given to Germans, by
virtue of which a loan was to be granled to Morocco and
|iubltc worka executed by a German ^rm^ are brought within
the purview of the Conference. No mention is made of the
sea-port of which Germany is said to be anxious lo become the
possessor.
The two powers have agreed upon a programme of the
butincis which is lo be laid before the Conference. Thia pro-
gramme includes the organiEaiion of a policr force for Mo-
rocco, with the exception n( the above mentioned frontier; the
establishmem of a State bank as a means of effecting fiuancUl
reforms; investigation as lo a better result of taxation and the
creation of new revenue:? ; means to prevent the government of
Morocco from pledging the public service for the benefit of
private inCerests* and for securing that no nationality should be
excluded from the privilege and ndvantnge of execniirig these
works, Algeciras, in Spain, is proposed to the Sultan as the
place of meetings
What IS now to be seen is whether or no the Sultan will
than in this benevolent and disinterested endeavor to improve
hi< domains, or whether he n^ay not fall into the vulgar erroi
that he ha« the right lo m^inage his own afTaLrs in his own
wagr^ But. however great the satisfaction of France may be, it
^uinot b« fi^f^ouen that the German Emperor has killed that
project of peaceful penetration of Morocco by France alone,
148
CUitRSNT Hi^ENTS.
[Nov.,
llch «hc chcrisii<d» And whicli w» left open lo her by the
conclusion of the Anglo-French Agreement of last year.
' f f h
The crisis still continues to exist
Austria' Hungjary. in Austria- Hungary, and is per-
haps even more acuft than before.
Hopes wf^re rntertain«d thai away out would be found by the
Emperor-King, when he summonc<] to an audience the leaders
of the Coalition which has thp support of the majority in the
Hungarian Parliament, These hopes were speedily disappointed.
The audience lasted five minutcf^ in the course of which the
King read from a paper conditions which he called upon them
to accept, and relcrrtd the It^adera lor further di&ouSfioii to the
Mini»ter of Foreign Affairs^ The conditions were rejected al-
mo&L as aunimarily a^ they were laid down. The slate of thinga
in brief, s,^ follows: A parliamentary majority, entitled to take
e, laid before the king conditiona which he could not accept.
TF he held a strictly constitutional position, he would be bound
to accept them, but the form of government in Hungary, and
in fact in many states of the Continent, seem» to be neither
the self 'government vf ihe people nor the absolute government
of a monarch. Refusing to comply with the demands of the
majority, the king appointed a ministry of ^alrs which had
no supporters at all in the parliainent. This mJnisiiy, instead
cf keeping within its modeM rSit. proposed a fundiimental
change in the constitution — the introduction of unlvertal suf-
frage — and did this without the consent of the king. The con-
sent was withheM, the minisTTy resigned; the representatives
of the majoniy were summoned again; again they refused to
form a ministry. A setond time has Haron Fejervary been ap-
pointed fremier; but no mlmslers \\n\c yet been found willing
to accept o^ce. This is the tmpaise to which things have
come. Parliament has been prorogued again. The relations
between the Hcingflriaus and the Au&trians are bccoTiiing bit-
Eavc begun to talk *' Norwegian,"
Tbe separation beiwven Norway
And Svcdn. and Sweden and the birth of %
new StaiQ wiJ], in all probability^
place before these lines ate in print. The agree-
I
190S.]
Cir^fiEJ^r EVESTS.
249
mcnl to dissolve ihe Un^on has bcrn accepted by the Ncr-
wtgian Storlhtng, uid is on th« point of ftcceplance by |h«
Swedish Riksdag. In addiiion to the almost unique ctiaracter
of tbe agreement m il=clf, ihc part given lo Ihe arbilTation of
poittlble diiTefencet U worthy of note. By the IitbL arcJde U
t» etipnUted that^ for 4 period of ten years, all dilTcrtnces
vbich cannot be settled by diplomacy &re to be referred to
the Hagu« PeirnanenE Court of Arbitration, provided such dif-
ference* do not concern the independence, integrily, or vital
lii1cre«t« a( either cotintry. Whether a particular qutistion is a
vital intereit or not is itfldf jubmitted lo the *amc Court of
Arbitration- A< to the reunral tone which is to he established,
and the forta which are to be demolished, or those which arc
to be retained, if differences arise, these too are to be referred
10 aibitraiiOD. The same mode of settlement is adopted of
questions which may ari^e as to the gracing tights accorded
to Laplanders, the regulation of traffic, and the use of water
way*. The new state of Norway, therefore, cntert upon its
Sepafiile carecf with >< Lwu-fold augury of good— the peac^efui
uitleircnt ol Ihe past and the appeal to a peaceful 9ctttcment
for the future.
The earthquakes which have oc-
It^T' curred in CaJabrinj and ihc lof» of
life which they have caused, have
arouficd widespread sympathy In other nations, and thb sym-
pathy has in some cases taken a practital shape. The kindness
of ihe King In personally visiting thf^ae scenes of desolation
«faowa that, however disloyal a son of the Church he may be
ID soduc respcetT* he has not tost that instinct of charity wh^ch
b 4 mtrk of the Church. In oihcf respects, up to a few days
«IFO, Italy hat enjoyed peace. The oLitlook for Ihe future i^ alio
pvacsfel, For aix years past the country has been ve;y pros-
l^eroiDr aUhough good Authorities think this prosperity is tnore
■ppitrent than real* due, th^it it, Icse to the growing wealth of
the people than to an accidental increa&e In some feoutces of
re««iiaep and especially to the taxation which bears hardest on
itifl workinjf cU«Aea, and hinders Industrial progress; the pres-
•ht government hai done nothing to reinrdy the injustice aad
to fulfil ihc promises which il made — reform of taxation and of
aSO Ct/X/fSAT £i'£.VTS, [Kov.
administration. And aa wc hf^trd, wilhin the lut f«w days, of
riote in various places on account of th« burdens enuHed hy
keeping up so large an Array.
Tn Spain a i^cneral eUcTion H^
Spalo. lakcn place The Lower House ts
composed of 406 Deputies, elccic<l
by universal suffrage, but, as a rule, half the electors dn not
vote. The worktng cUsscs especiaJly fail 10 u^e their Hght.
thiaking th«/ have lilllc or nothing to giin by participMton In
p;>litical strife. The re^ulr of the recent elections is, in accord*
ancc with Spanish traditions^ in favor of the government, there
being a majofity of 240 suppoitcrs of the 0)^1135110 Liberal
Ministry in powerf atjd ] 67 member? of the various Opposition
groups, of which theie are no fewer than six.
La£t month reference was made to the fact that in several
diEtncta the peasants were BuiTcEing from slarvation, and that
they were rushing into the prisons to be fed. This month we
learn that train loads of emigrants are goin^:^ to Spanish port^
on the road to South America. In Galicia so many families
have left their homes that some villages are totally deserted.
Such events give ihe reason why workingmen in Spain distrust
the usefulness of politicians, a distrust which other nations are
beginning to share.
■Rew Boofts.
The Ltrftr of Fanis Pert^finirs im
L£TTBR OF PETRCS the Ma^ntf^ wrillen in the year
PEREORtPfUS. 1169, was 3 scieniific docuniect,
Kfflftrkabic in itfiflf, and specially
for the age lo which Tti author lived. It »ctni& to U£ of Ihe
pnserni dty almost incfcdible rhat even ihtr best miiLda al an-
tiquity and of the Middle Agn should have calmly assumed
ihat natural science w±s completed by the few ^apeificial fact£
■hich »riEX]p ptreons had happened to ob>4crve; thar. thefe should
fc»vc been such a total laclc of cufiosily to discover anything
further, or eve» to verify the little that waa known. St. Jcrcme,
for imtance, remarks th«kt it is Fiiid xhat ts. force icsideE in the
lodettone and in amber, such that they will attrai^t " ring« "
lad "fttr&w/' He makes no distinction between the lodcsionc
ind the amber: no intimation that anything eUe woutd be at<
traded by either. Nowadays, »f any man igtiorani of electrical
scicpce should fuid that a piece of amber could, by rubbing,
be mide 10 Attract pieces of fLraw or paper, he would hunt
Around to »e if anything else would do as well as amber. Bui,
no; with $t. Jerome, "this," it is said, *' finishes the whole
■fttttr."
But FatruA Feregrinui, or Pierre df! Maricourl. w^s a man
Qi the modem pattern; one of the ca^rliest to get thoroughly
the experimental spirit- He was not content lo have it said
Ihat a lodcstone would aiiroct "fingG," or iron in general; lie
vaiiied to kn"w all the details of the matter; and, by a little
patient work, be discovered the fundamcDtal properties of
fbi^netium, and really invented the mariners' or *iutveycr£'
eompast.
fa his dSLf there were of course no scientific journals to send
communicalionk to. no scientific societies to discuss them; but
fai« investi gat ions have been transmitted to us by a letter, de*
Kribin^ them, written to a friend.
The lettef waj for a long time unnoticed, but was fortu-
Ltely preserved, a doxen copies existing in various European
" r^t /#nrt t/ /"ftmi /Vr<f^Tiij #« ftf At\ifnfl, A- D. ii^t. 'I inEitJkiifi] 1>r Br«Tl]?r
J, )t,!k. WJcU luEraJuHaEy NoU» by Br^rtiBrlVdiDtaii, U. 3«. NW Yuih: McGi*ir
-^
■Vfjr SooA'S,
[Nov,,
For this tr*n»laiioo into EngUfh wc arc irrfebted to
Arnold. M. Sa, PrEncipaL of Iji Salk luatitutCp at Troy^
vk bw »*w ■» »We and inlerestinE intrciducioty noike by Brolhcf
rMAOiivi. I}. Sc.
THE HISTORY OF THF
FRENCH CONCOKUAT.
At a Enomenl when the question
of the day in France is Ihe cori-
pictc divorce ot Church and Siat«
— a question not merely ol national,
but of Kiifopean, even o( ecomenical importance — a complete
hitlory of Ihe Concordat acid a thorgugh s:udy of Lis workings
ii, emphatically, a limety book Such a liook is ihc work ot
M. t'Abbf S^v^ttc* Within its six hiinrirtd closely printed
piE«s i» 10 be found everything of Interest bearing on the Con-
cordat and upifn the f tory of the r^latians which have subsiMed
between the Catholic Church and the French government lor
the pa^t hundred years,
A tripartite divi&ion of the subject, as suggested in the title,
ha« coniributetl greatfy to the lucidity of the treatment, en-
abling the reader to (read hU way without confusion through
a miLEe of events, i:ontinLja]]y complicated by political changes
and juridical, canonical, and theological problems in which ihe
factors were almost constantly shifting. The first three chapter*
of the introductory pan relate, in aEnioat minute detail, the
Ticgotialions beTweeri Napoleon K anri the Pope; the ratification
of the treaty at Rome, and tti subsequent publication in Pari*.
The author nestt pursues its fortunes through the subsequent
rdgn of Napoleon* who endeavored to nullify if by the ap-
plication of the atfiiUd ot^ani^u/s ; then he narrates Ihe futile
attempts of the half sceptical Louis XVIII, to set it aside, as
a Napoleonic monument, m favor of one to be ratified by bim-
seii. The revival of GalUcanism among the clergy during the
Restoration, the persecution of iSjo, the evenii of Louis
Philippe's reign, including the formation and fall of Moutatem
beri's CathoUc party, are related with admirnbte concisimev?.
The writer dwells pointedly on the happy relations which c^cisied
between the clergy and the Second Republic, iie traces clearly
the march of events during the reign of Napoleon HL. who.
after having «hown himAelf the muniitcent benefactor of the
P !
■905l
jVEit' Books.
^53
Cborcb, anr] having reaped from the hiBMrchy, md sucb leaders
M Louh VcuUiot, an overflowing measure of adulntion. conched
id t«rai« thAt rocill the ccurt oi By^anlium, bccam': tbe patron
«f freethinkers »nd luhan revolutionists, I-inaliy. wt follow
the Ufit act in thi; Jijuna [ram ihe cics? o( the waf of ]S;o
till to-diy. ^luring which period the enemies of Catholicisin
hare proceciled steadily oa their dcfitructive career, auginenlirig
;h«tr forces and cxtendinjf their aini^ ai tvety Mep, lilL ih^y
tuvc at last id about severing the bond which £0 long united
Cciurch and State. For every view that he advances, and for
every slalcmpnl that he makes, the author olTers copious evi-
dfncci and to the nanie of every person of importance that
cai«rfl into his narrative, he appends a biographical note — a
courtesy fnr which foreign readers especially will feel graieAil.
The secnnd part consists ol a study of the Concordat itself,
by comparing it with other Concordats, as well as with the
artUit* crj;mHu/uts, and by exatning th« purport of various nc-
goiiationa and juridical and theological inttrpretation^i to which
it hAt given rise. Finally, In the third part the author essays
a depresting forecast of the evJI resnJtK that the rupture wlU
iaAici on the French nation and on French Calhoiiclstn. In
tlie copious appendix the reader will lind the text of tvtfy
sigu6cant document bearing on the relations of Church and
SlftES ia Prance, from the declaration of ih« Gallican clergy, In
1683, down CO the present legiflation. Enough ha; been said
to give at leant a fair idea of this fine work' We have only to
add that the interest evoked by ilB matter i& enhanced by the
charming lucidity and simplicity of the style, ;be author's knack
.^•f artiatic irfangeni«nt, and his attitude of dignified calm and
'Cnpittiality^ which, however, never for a monieut sugge^ls a
doobt on his loyalty as a churchman.
The American reader wiU close the book satisfied on every
quesiioo, except one, thai he could poasibly propound concern-
ing this ftnbj«ct, And the iin^u?wer«d question is juat the
ofre whose answer would contain the most valuable practical
iiutructlon. What we would all Jain inquire, is the adtiguuie
expUaattoa of how it t;anic to pass that within the compara-
tUcly thon period that has cUpscd since the rise Q\ \\\t Sec-
ond Republic, tb« bulk of the I'rench people, then staunchly
Catholic, should now be 10 alienated from the clcrj^y that the
government ol the country is, at present, safely lodged in thQ
as4 JtelT Books. [Nov-,
hftftdi <kC i&6<i«h? Tbc Ntti^ital Assembly thai met At the
doce of tlw Frajmo-fViDsian War was Strongly conicrvatSve ;
rttHgloiit IsccTcftta were wt\l repf»eat«d in it ; and eottic of its
■MC boaoff«4 — heri v«re cUnci. At the same lime, l\ was
ft tniu 'If 1 1'l 1*T^* f>f tiie pievulin^ ^entimeni^^ idtas. and
uptetiovs Q< tfic KmKb people. Yei, m a very »hort time,
that sane p<Bpl» begin to look with a suspicious eye upon
the trod of luJwwiliiil actirity Sn political sfTairs. Kvr^nts
OCC^lcd ^Bhlch cbe fwfical ptrty were ensily able ro Tcprcsent
to tW Lij>tij as proob that the "clericals'* were the sworn
|#«« ^ t||« caitfng gorvrTDenfl, add cheriehtd aims inccni-
piAih «tt tW ««Uuc of Ffaoce. The abba's cxcecdingl}-
hiX MmA vrad kiiCocr of the BubscqucDl thirty years leavefi us
liB « tW Anfc •• M> bcHv il happened ihal the anlE^rcligiou^
pW^ fwMiA il sack Ml ««iff task to convince the majority ol
ikftta prodooBd political truth was eplgrammati-
ia GaBbctUi'* war cry» "Lc clerical istnc, tyu/J
W^ raaniTT, bo««T«r. {xrmic ourselves lo treat M. I'Abbe
jtmuc'i n<x«*ce ot ihU cnalter as a reason lor dimjnighinK
ol t^aak* due lo him for \\\& spkndid piece of
wttvt. Lo»c jrears most ycf elapse before a French
may, vilbout ignorint' ihe dictates of ordinaiy pru*
^tA<^ Mt*. itt full, aa4 without reserve, this last sad chapter
Thia section of KngUnd's rolJ of
mnUU llAKTYltS. honor* bears tweniy-four names.
Iqr Qmi lv4v Can. begicning with that of Ble^&ed
John Felton, the layman, who,
*Ut^ ivt and t«<Alivlh day of May, 1570, belwf\T two and
MkM« ^ llht dttok in lie morning, set up on ihc gale of the
iM«|^ «f Lftft4«ft I1U p>alac«," the Dull of excomntunicaiion
Ha»v4i«4 tiy $4. I'iwt V, against Queen ELiAabclh. Th>; last
VAVi* ^* i*^*t ^ KattHt Richard Thirkeld, a secular priest, who
m/h/tH ** Vvrt i" 'S^J
Th* Hvo* are writteu with great fulness; every document
4Mta%)* W ^^^ Marehed;, with the result that tbese hicg-
«4». tf <b a^^lJWvM* t>nter*e Ibwdb, IS>|.« (.fvXiEl.m i9»»d i^qj.
^4 T.i^' *\«AfMv« l*t IMMIT , ^ >*■ WwJtf tltfp, 4n(34^f ihi ^aJ«tj i>/ Jttut. EL^m*.
4 M Ulwi tidt Cm. O-Slfc V^, 11. «-r^* '-'fAir enw- S/i^Ht^
I
*90S.]
il'^ir BOOK^
raphiev tut much more compkie chftn the ccrrc^pondipg ones
10 be found in Rhhop Chailoner^fi coLk^tJcn, and some namec
km indiittctl h«re thai were ttot recorded by ChrilJun«r at all.
The value oi Ihe book to those whc arc not fhoroughJy ac-
^naiatcxJ wiLb E'Liaabethaii history it coiiddcriibly augmented}
by a carefully prepared Introduction, written by Falber Pollen.
SJ-, for the purpose nf c\p|ainin^ the ortgin. nalurc, and tend-
•ncy of the quarrel in which the mariyts lost their lives. He
expUtnA ibc ironditioTis ihat marked LlJzabelh's settlemifnt, tbe
tff«ct of th<f Northern Rising in i^^g. the results of ihe ex-
communication, the subgequent increase of missionary zeal, and^
oonaequenlly, of porsrcution in isSo. Here he notcf the errors
cotnmitied by Cftlholic politicians and the Tapttl GovcrnmenL
By an analysis of the facts lather TolJen demonstrates thai
ifaoAe who Kutleied under Elizabeth wccc put to death, not be-
eaaflc they were pnlitcal ulfendcrs. but because of Iheir fidelity
CO their rdigioo. Father Pollen thereby deprives Protestant* ol
on« o( th«ir well worn subterfuges from the charge of having
Mained their hands in religious persecution. We cxon*^raic the
Church from the blood of the Albigciise$ and the victims of
tbe Spanish Inquisition, on the {^rounds that these people died
because they were enemlrt; of the civil governmeui or otlenders
•gainat the secoUr law. Protestants argue that the same view
holds K^od of the EngiUh martyrs; hence, it is of consequence
thai An e-»»cnt]ft3 diderence between the two cases should be
ckarly established,
The scholarly contributors to this volume deserve thanks
for > |>iece of work which, considered either as history or ha^i-
ology, ii of permanent value, and, in all probflbility. is not
dutined to be tuperseded by any future work on this subject*
INFALLIBILITY.
AIVD
OXFORD CONFERENCES.
By Fr. M..Nabb, O.P.
Although these two publications*
treat of closely related subjects,
and hail from the same source, no
organic continuiEy eKists between
them. The audiences to which, in
the iirtt instance, the one and the
tber lectures were addressed, represented, reopeetively,
'^^OH^r A fV[>r< thfvi titl^Jj lU' ^ncitiy njf 5[, TlLDmPi of C*nr«l'urT. Rf Rrv-
■•i^J Viu4^l U^.SdNtj, 0,P. Sv" V^-i^k . 1,i>iijini*ni. ai*i>A a Cn Om/h'J Ct^/rftn^n em
flf VHtMii Tiiif IrDrLCh^Trilbnor a Co.
as6
New Books.
[Nor..
I
wi^fcly diEfercnt mcnTAlitic3> ajd* as one migtit expect 2 ttachcr
of Fr. McNftbb's intelligence would do. the lecturer vftHed his
point oi vie* accordtogly. The paper on FnJaihbiHty^& very
modeit deiignation for a soJid pamphlet of eighty pag^* — *^**
read before an AngJicAn Audience, The Society ai St- Thomas
of C&nfr^rhiiry has for one of its principal Miniri Ihe rtfmoval of
obfimciions to Reunion by the aubatiiuiiou of ccnferercc fot
controversy, and by conductiug discussion on the biti^ of ex-
positjon$ of docirincA made by properly (qualified representatives f
of them. The precise purpose of the leccore is to eKpUm the
Cmholic doGlriiie concerning the InfaliJbiiity of ihe Teatbjug
Chuich, as disttngui<ihed l^om the Church (aught. Though
not ncglceiing Ihe htsiorical a^ptct of his theme, Fr. McNabb
dek^otcA hU Attention chiefly to ih« theological aide. The lone
throughout i&, it need hardly be observed, cuncilialory ; the
reisoQablenesa of the CttthoEic cUim, and the arguments that
establish it, are unroJded clearly, and adequately Insisted uport,
WiEhoiit undue exa^^era-lion-
In conclusion the author notices briefly the objections uau-
«]ly urj^ed against papal, and conclKar Enfallibility; and, with-
out undertaking to rcEute 01 criticiie ihem striafitn—h task iiO"
possible within the time at his diapo&Al— he sugge&ta sottic
broad general view* which tend to reduce to negligible proper*
lions the historical difficulties which are uiagnified 10 tlie vision
of the opponents of JnJalMbility.
The other volume consists of a seri^ of lectures, eight in
nurnbefj addressed to the Catholic fittidenta of Oxiord Univer-
sity. The titles are: The ProbJem of Fnith : The Object of
Faith (Mystery); The Light of Faith; Authority; The Will
sud Faith i The Door of Faith (Conversioo); The Scruple of
Doubt; the Life of Faith. The lirst lecture begins with a
world-embracing review ol the hi^Corical fad that " al all times,
and especially fti nee the coming of Jesus Christ, men have been
found to profess or deny the objective existence of supra-ra- ■
tional tfuthi, and the subjective existence of a peculiar power
or faculty lor believing these truths to be true/' Next follows
a sutemeni of the present crisis for religious belief, natural and
GupernaturAl,
Afterward Fr. McNabb dwells chiefly on some psychologi-
cal Aspects of his subject; especially in the v;ew& which he
put* forth whtm he faces the problem of the part played by
ihf will In f«ilh. Everywhere he is stjggMlivc Reader* *hi>
know how to iciie an anchor's purport, when he hcqucnt^jr
leaver them to sum up for themscLves a nucnber of appreciatcons
and i:on!(i(teTat]ons, will be better pleH^ed wilh h'r McNsbb'^
flfork iban they who look to ihe author to tell them ai the be-
£ianiog or end of a chaper what 'iwas all ^bout. Tbo inftitecce
of Newtnin U apparent ; though, a^ a true Ihecinst. E'r. McN^bb
draw* attention to the Uet that St. Thomas, too, jt^signed ■
prtdonainiint part to the wJtl in the act of assent when the ob-
ject i% not a matter of 6rsc principles or abstract mathematical
jj^ifmcnt*. The note whjeh is becoming more ancJ mcTedoTni-
n*ni in apologetics h perceptible everywhere Jn Fr. McNabb"*
eKpOUtioni, fto that the following passage, from the "Will hud
Faith." mtght be accepted as a statement of one of his fir&l
principles: " In truths of faith our personal w^ll entcis at every
Htp. Ifmitini* And va^luing the premises, acceptiiT^* dehning,
and »feguard>ng th« conclusion, haith i? certituiie, but it is
ceniitidc in which the persona] wiEt holds and tLirn^ the «caFc».
Thutt Uilh Ltt a vital action; not a mete mechanical proceed.
It it nor ruled by mere mcchanicaE Lawi of heaviest and great-
est, but b/ the subtler laws of truest and best*"
Df- Alexander MflcDnnald deserves
pDEfiTIOWS OF THE DAY, a great deal of credit for the «u-
Br V. Rw> A. M&cDonald- diaus industry wilh which he is
dealing wilh many inieltpL'iual prob-
lems which arc dUturbing and perplexing this present Age, Too
lew Catholica approach theae grave diiputcs* and too htlle Catho-
lic leaching i& hrfmuhl to bc^ar on ihem. When, theiefore* a ca-
pable alndcnt Hke Dr. MacDonald appears in the arena he should
be welcomed and encouraged, and we would like to be ameng
Iboite whuiir voices Hre most «arneEit in wi^}iing him wi^lL The
[laten book • from his pen i» a collection of essays on the Bib-
'llcal iji»e»lioo» the Virgin Jiirth, the lUestcd Vi rein, and Immof'
lallt)^. The** matters are treated from ihesiaiTdpuint of strictly
tdftional Caiholtc theology, and arc expressed in a clear and
Er«<«bk English style. Evtiy sludeui cf theology will be
[imfllatcd by the book, even If one law^l ditTer at lim» from
the learned author- For it muK be rcmembcied that ihcre Is
•
a wide region of IheoJogicul speculaiion whert: differences t>f
opinion arc pcrmitccri and arc whole6C»me. H«ii«, if we indi-
Cate one or two poirtts wherein wc would bo pJcased to aee
anorhcr mixle oJ treatment adopted, no one should tbink u^ over-
criiical.
The essay on the lliblical Question aime a1 giving ufi a clue
lo a solution of ihose ordinary rijfficulties with which ihc whole
world is now familiar; difl^cultics arising from apparent conUft-
dictions. eecEnlngly mistaken Siienlific ^uienients, and no on.
Dr, M-icUjnaid^a mechod of «ctihng all ^uch troiible^ Ma in the
diBtinction between the nonmenal and the phenomenal truth of
biblical £t4itcments- In one or other farm this it a f^millAr
remTfdy ; but we rcspecllolly *wgge*t that it is ]nAi:it4.ju«li', as
here «t»ed ; though wc fancy that it could be adapted «o as to
covcf the case fairly well, Writ^is rin the biblical qtiestion
should t^quiircly itaXe and sq^uarely face; such c^ursiionii as: Whjit
U the hitiorica! value rte^^ssarti^ to he attributed lo apparently
thtorJcal statciuents j* Is there any place lo bo conceded to
folklore, legend, or borrowings from non- Hebraic Tcligiom?
To what extent may wc admit implicit quotations? These arc
the <iuestioc5 nudentt desire to have answered, and Dr, Mac-
l>oiiaM dues not bring hi% theory fact to lace with iheni. Wc
eannoi imagine that Dr. MacDonald ha» not read Rre Lagrange "»
Mtthadf Iliit^fj'qitf, or Bonaccor&i'a La V-erira Siema dtV Eui'
iema. or Hummeljiuer's Exe^ttisihes svt Inspiratiimjfragt ; but
we found in his work no vcsiigc of these Calhohc essays,
which art; dimply indispensable lo any one who woutd deal with
this ditBcult and delicate subject. These men confront difBctil-
tie^ ^(juarcly. and Dr. MaeDonatd will itot takr it III if we sug-
gest that he has something to learn from them. At ail events,
theology and iheolagians a% such arc powerless to solve the
biblical i^u«ition ol tu-d;iy, It is a matter for an expttrienctd, I
critical scholar and for no one else- A priori theology is as ^
impi^tent to pronounce upon the mode and processes of intpi-
ration as it was to tell ua anything ccncerning the mode afid
processes of creation, Thy^ical science has io)d u« rncre of the
nature of the universe in the last 6fiy yeais than theology had
told us In ceaturir^. though it tried bard lo provide us wUh
the Information. The obvious reason is that matters ol physi-
cal sL^ience are outside the ±copc of theology, So too are mat-
ters ol pure criticbm outside its stope. The theologian's duty
I
1905-1
iV^W BOOKS.
359
i* 10 tec Ihai the cr«ic does noT coniradkt a definite teaching
of failh; but with cni:id»tti 3» aucb he should interfEre as UttCc
11 possible.
Tfie chufitcr on the VirjjEii BJrth is a i^ritfcism of r^lber Tyr-
rdl'v 9latenient that we can imagine an Ini^arnalJOTT without a
i-Jrgin birth. It It a futlEe controversy, of course; though the
ihvolon^KiUy- minded will b« diveited by Dr. MacDonald'^ at-
icmpE ic wrest St, Thomas from l-'arher Tyrrell's side to hia
t>wn> 111 conclusion, we woiild repeat odt good wishes to tbid
sturdy and fearle^t writer, and Irutt that we ehaU have tbo
pleHufc of rending other volumes from his pen.
VOTES ON CURISTIAK
DOCTRINE,
By filj)h<ip Kug^hawi^.
About Forty ye<irs ago Biehop Bag-
shawe delivered a course o\ lec-
turer on Christian Doctrine to the
pupils c( the lUmmcrsmith Train-
ing College, London. The notes
trhicll be uflcd are reproducd [n this voIuihf * The noteR r^on-
Btilutc an e^cpUnation of the Creed, the Decalogue, the Sacra-
avnts, the H'>ly Sacrifice, ard the chief lurms uf devoiiorin The
inttfuctionv, clear and concise in siatcment, are sufficiently co^
pi&ae to conttittite a prcfcniaiion of docirine sufficiently de-
tailed for the laily, PresuTtiably in bis Lectures the bishop
poinlcii out to his pupils the dividing line between matters of
abtigatory faith aod mere theological opinior--': more cKplicitly
thai this distinctiott is indicated in the printed reproduction,
A non-CaihoLic bludymg this book would have no reasoti 10
iijfpect that the mystery of the Incarnation or the Trinity
lt4Dd« on a very ditTcrenc footing, as far as Catholic belief is
coneeined. from the stalemi^nl thai Eve was Itmptcd by Luci-
fer voder the form of a serpent. It is hard to believe that the
papiLt of a training college were disiviissed into the world labor-
iag uader the impression (hat the Catholic Church pledges her-
•df to the teaching that, besides the liinhus of the Tathcrv,
"rjftivy art ikrif ethtr /triscns wifAin :ftt MrtH" vii., Hur^tlory,
like limbus of uEibaptixed cbirdren. and the hell of the damned.
The flystamatic arrangement and cicar"<?ss oi the hofiJf oui;ht
Do reader it very helpful to Sunday-ichool teacher*.
*X**nf^ OtH^itvt Dvtr^i. \Xy ihn Slo^x Ri>ai«ih1 ]^d4«<4C. D0tr»hiiHV4 CD. L^an-
av] Xfffia- FW ft TniMii.
1
New Books, [Nov,
TbU volumr * IB a rtprint of a scr-
CHRISTIAN I>OCTRINE. ics of insiructive leaflets, couched
By Fr, Zulueta, S-J, m epistolary forna, thflt. In Uie
past few years, appeared in a popu*
lar magaEine of the Jesuit F;illiers in England- The objecl of
the LttUrs is to furnish lo grnwn-up Catholics r kTiowledge,
more ample and minute than is contained in the caie<hitin. of
the scope of the duties impo^eu by the Drcalu^tie ar'& the pre-
cepts of the Church. The tone is that of nn arable, Icind^y,
experienced director of faultless taste, ^ddresising Catholics of
intelligence and good breeding, blending exhortation with ex-
position, and not ditdaming to enliven his serious mocd with
an occacional touch of playEulncsB* the inatructor expounds the
whole content of Catholic duty. Wherever occaMon required
■t) he is careful to sbio« rhe reason a bleu ess of the demands
which the Church m»kes upon us. Almost all the ordinary
questions On difl'icuUiea submitted to a confesaor arc antici-
pated. Doctrine is laid down with theological accuracy in
everyday languagc.
In matters dogmAlic, Father Zutueta leans atmcet invariably
to the itde of strictest inietprctation. One rubs one's eye»,
however, and reedju9i9 one's glasses, on reading ihat, ifi ord^r
to eon»titute heresy, an error " must concern a doctrine **«-
titirud flr rtveaUd in tke Scripturts, and ahi> proposed as stith
&y t/ii Church to oitr hfitff'' In the text italics are employed
Ai above; apparently to emphasJie the statement. As the
Church icftches that Revelation may be contained not only in
the Scriptures, but also in Tradition, iint itrtptQ^ we must pre-
Bunie that the author hat. in the above Bencence, ioadvetiently
omitteid au important phraae.
In th« inleTpretMion of purely moral, aa diftinct from rclU
gious precepts. Father Zulueia U guided by the spirit of be.
ni^nity whii;:h shun» the danger of aggravating unnecessarily
the burden of the law. When nuthorilifs dilTfr, he u&uAlly fol*
tow« those who concede the most to human weakness. Only
in one inbi^ncc. however, does he carry benignity lo a point
where one may kj^dimatrly rnquire whether it tlofrs not begin
to deserve a harsher name. Under Ihe bead of scandal wc ^ad
the following pa&fagc . *' The publican aliio haa no duly to re*
tire from hi» irade for the tcaion that some of bis customer!
L
>905'1
JV^w Books.
a6i
efacotte Xi> get drunk on ihc premises, on Rccoant of the serious
Ion VQCh a M<p would entail. Neither, for a ^imi^az reason,
doci he commit tcandil b)^ selling more lirjuor i<i one :vho has
aliciLitjr tJikcfi as much as \s ^ood for him, ijitico th« handing
ol drink acro» the courter U not in itself a part of the >in of
drunkenness" (p. 2%z). The liMt of the&e &tuienicnlfi, cerUtnly,
cm ba def«rid<it by the authority of vmriicnt theologians. But.
none the \cS9 is it in flagrAnt opposition lo the apiril of the
ie«chi:a)* and legislation of the Third Fleiu^ry Council of Balti-
more Gdiiccrntng liquor selling. The i^ccond slatcmenl, we re-
vpeetfully >til>mit, satva r/f^rfifia. is perniciously Uk. and dhi-
cftUy. if not aUo theologically, indefcndbte. The handing of
dfink AGTOW ihc cotinier lo a man on the verge of intoxica-
tion (for this we lake to be the meaning of the euphemism*
"who ftTready had had at much aa ta good for him"), is, Jn-,
deed, no part of the ^in of drunken rie^s. hni Jt in immediate,
direct co-nperatlon in that iir\. Th« handing of \ dose of
ChlOTftI acr04f the ccunter fA no patt of the Act of se]f-dc*lruc-
tioo^ But if I fuini^h this diOK Lci a mm, when I know he
will kill himicif with It. th4>ugh he me^ns, not lo commit sui-
cide, but 10 enjoy a pleasant Bcnsation, then in the eyes of
God, and even before the civil law, I am fiuilly of a crime.
True, 1 CHiinot plcnd ihuE to rcfuiie ihe customer would rnean
■ contidc fable pecuniary loss to me, while the publican may
trulhfully claim that lo refuse to serve half-drunken, or more
than half-drunken, mt-n wr>u]d be aeriou&ly to diminish his
revenue, Hlit the caiulitry whkh would accept this dcknie
vould make for the degradation of our moral standards, Wc
qncstlon whether any member of ihc American hierarchy,
after hla attention would have been drawn to this paragraph,
would grant an imprimatur to this otherwise excellent and aer-
norahle book, which, wo trust, will meet with a wide circula-
tion in a corrected edition.
THE MiRROTt OF ST,
EDMUND,
Afier S:, Edmund, Archbishop of
Canterbury, had been driven from
his Sec, and while he was liviiig^
in exile at a monastery in Fon-
tigny, he found time Co write, for the inttruclion of tome simple
nan whose name we ihall never know, a little treatise on spirt-
taal perfectioQ^ It U lhi» which ba» come down to us with
•♦•
Ne^v Books.
[Nov.,
th« titU T*/ Mi'nvr of St. Edmund* and which, in pIcAinnr,
rvaiUUo JlnglUh, H now prc^enicd to the public aa a sort of
tunimar/ cf CAthoJic asc«Fkal teaching. Broken up Into Utile
cbhpl*t>, •omerimcs no more than a page or two in length,
wriU«n in simpk anii frt^'cnl biil. al the same time, ma&tcily
•tylc« the booklet poaiesscs particular attractions for a clafs of
rvAileri to whom larKcr or more recondite treatifei wouM ap-
peal in vAin> TKiffe iti abundance of iitatier in it, neverthckss.
And he who will peruxc it slowly and mediiativei/ will find
iheiein predoui nu(;getD of holy wisdom-
The tranAlJitinn has been made from tbe old edition pub-
liihad by Mr. Horttmann in the Librnry of the Karly Knglifh
Writer*; and we are glad to say that the translator has done
her work nearly and well.
The name of Margaret Fletcbpf ha?
LIGHT FOR KEW TIMES, become so cioscly identified with
By Mariiafet Fletcher, the forward movement in the cd-
uc^lJEin of Catholic ^itI^, ihitt h
new puhhcatlon with her name attached may pretty safely be
taken as an indication th«t the tide oe' progress is still rolling
ifilcadily onward. The reappearance of her lateist book f ki
mrjrt? durable form is therefore an occasion for e neon rage meni.
Poisibly there is something of truth rn the cntidtm re-
cently made that her writing ihaw^ considerable t hough tlulner*
and A cendcncy to be somewhat philosophical. And it may be
true that we badly need simpler writing* for the mote juvenile
reader- Hut Misfi TleEcher really meets a serious want- There
is a public for just such bootcs and articles a» she Is writing;
■nd whether or not lighter and more amusing publicatiotis be
needed, it is certain that a ^^reat army of girU will profit im-
mensely if ihey are made acquainted with the existence of her
works. It would be unmerited and unmeaning praise to afHrna
thaE ehe ha^ i^ivvn lo all of il^ exaLTily what we desire; or that
there ts no room for improvement in tlie work that she has
put forth- Hut her work it of a high order; her aim is in tb«
* T%t Vr^tr 1/ .'^. fjm»m4^ Dtb iKamoitffrn J!ii|iEkLh try rVanH^a M-SlHlf, WUi
■ 1Vc!»H bydic VflT K<*. \'t- Vukcd: U4\kl^, O.l'r Xt« Vark- llujde«t Brffbcn.
• Lit'^ftfM^Ttmf*. A |t«4k «i4 C-iksl^ Clrtt. DxUnri^m F]rt(beF,Ofl«iitKBC'
im]
N£xv Books.
26s
nght diraction; and she is A^isiing a class whicb, in the past,
hu h&d to rely princLpiUy en writers who ftre not of the
Cilholii: fsilli.
Given a lively, intdligrent, gYvod- hearted girl, jasi loostd
from tbc rtfatriining inrtuenccs of her convent school, a group
of as«ociate5 typical of the ordinary worid in which girls uau-
alEy hnd ihcn^i^eWes to-day. and an opportunity for a little
reading or reflection on the facts Mvhich are challenging such a
gift's Allcntion from hour to hour* ar,d one hfts a ^iluation
wh«rfl th« book before us would perhaps play a very significint
pirt in determlnmg the t^ent of a Ane spirit. It Is full of plain,
intelligible lAlk about subject? which Du^ht to be Taken into
account by amy such girl, ami, as a mutter of fact, are taken
into accounr, with more or Ic^s %ucce.s5^ by many ^iich girls.
The use of liberty and the nature of icsponsibiUiy and the
whole dJiHcnIt question of ntlempttng some sort 0I modus vU
veacJi for a Catholic in a world which is flar from being Catho-
lic in theory and still farther from it in practice, ihese arc
mAttrra which must be cunsiderpd and iludiedj li the present
situation is to be dealt with $ucce?tfully. For suggestion, aid^
tnd guidance in this, Light far Nttv Timtt is to be recom-
mended to our Catholic giils and In those who have iheir
well-being at heart May it Knd \is way into the hands of the
aany who have been awaiting itn It will, perhaps, fail to help
tome readers — ^so might a retreat — but that ii will do good
to many there can hardly be any reasonable doubt.
M somebody were to open this
A DlStORY OF EUROPEAN book •without looking at the title,
Dlt^LOMACY> and. after Ihe wont of a ^aunterer
By Hill. around the shelves oi a library,
caM an eye ovrr ihc table of cnn-
or dip Into iu pAgefi here and ihere, he would probably
lancy that be had come acro>i>^ an able hibtory of the tetnporal
ipacy. And it is not unlikely that a subsequent inspection
the title would »ugytat lo him the propriety of recontider
Ug the meaning which he had hilh^rlo aUached to the word
Iptonacy. Fdr ihc author of tbia highly intcrctiirg vnlumc
asjuotex that a faUtory of diplomacy means a great dcKl more
I
Naw Books. [Nov.,
than ai story oi cmb^isicE, the negotiation of tfealtes, exchaitgr?
between tintions of viewj on matters of common interest, »nd
an tnvcAtieitioa of the cifcumsiancea through which ihe man-
asetnent of auch bualn«ifl tramc to boa spetUf branch oi slate-
craft. A> Mr, Hill oortceivcs his task, a history ot European
diplomacy* bcndct ftii tht*> mu&t give on account of everything
rfiihrAcad in the campl«xu« of internaiional acli^itivs ihat have
brought the tfAriout poliiiet inio reUlior> with one another.
Such A hUtory rtiembles a general history, in much the same
way as a i;'''*Kf'^i*^^^*^ map of a country resembles a geological
one- Such charts have the same extent, Ihcy show the same
conspicuous landmnrki and divisions; but ihey present the
land from a differtnt icicrilific point of view. All devctapment,
progreil, or retrojirresiion in inttrnal arlflifs, whether religiou*,
moral, social, or cconomtc. war4, itoCabJe personages, fall within
the purview of the diplomatic hiMonan onlyjuetso Jar as tboy
have atgnificance for the relalions q[ State to Stale, A
A favorable indication rrgarding Mr, Httl's litness for the "
CMk that hi- hJ48 undertaken is tike f^oi that he has ignored the
conventional opinion which aaBumes that the history of Euro-
pean diplomacy bcjEin* with the treaty of Westphalia, A scien-
tific knowledge of modern condiLiun« h to be oblamed only by
tracSnx them from their beginnings, thtou^h their subsequent
developments^which meaiu* thai one must go back to the
]jnrjoii when, In the decadence of the Roman Empire^ a new
order, doniinaied by the spiritual power «f Christianity, arose
to renew the face of the earth; when, we quote from Mr. Hill,
"freed from the restrictions hitherto imposed upon it, inspired
by the universality of Jt« owu ideaJs, the Church began its
splendid task of winnin); the population of the empire to its
creed, and gathering the lowly and ihe great wilhin it£ fold."
AcGordini>1y, this firsi introductory volume is devoted lo
the rise of the lemporai papacy, the rcucwal of the idea of the
empire, ihe subsequent struggles between pope and emperor,
the disappearance of the imperial idea, and the rise of Inde-
pendent kingdoms. The pl^^n of the auihnr comprises futuro
volumes treating of Ihe diplomacy of the age of absolutism, of
the revolutionary era, of the constitutional movexneDt, ftnd of
commerdal Imperialism, The pregtnt vulume may be considered
A complete work.
Discerning with a snrc eye Ihe steady persistence od cer-
w-1
NEW Books.
3G
laio domlnntfng Jdea? and principles, amid supfrlictqE iluctua-
tjani. And following the csscntU) oj^wsrd march ot forces under
nmy incidenul retrogref^ions and diverg^ncei, the author
liirOffK a AtrAdy light cm what may bi^ calltd, thitu^h lie ducfi
not employ Ihr t«rm, the providential guidance of event? which
bit resulted in the establishment of modem Europe. By neg-
]<(.iLfi(f wL;at«v«T does not bt^ar on bis subject, and resolutely
lundeowng when surveying mailen of mini^r importance, he
hiiilMndft hU »pftcc in order to treil fully every cv<ni of »ig-
QifECince.
K rc^npituUtory parfi^rApb at :he end of each chapter, and
U introductory one at the beginning of the following one,
tiM the reader^s attention on the thread which j-tiides him
ihrauifh the Iftbyrmth. Wh«n EVptits arie reached which con*
tribute ^tronffly lo determine the subsequent course of history,
tuch, for cxavnpEc. a^ the treaty of VerJun, he '\a careful to
paint out Ibeir inflLjence with special emphasis.
This kind of history serve? much better thsin the m^re
tcaertl form to l>iin^ into proEUinenct the p»rt pkyed by great
mind* who formulated far-reaching pUns, or helped to esiab-
liiA), or lo defend tome dynamic idea. Hence great ehurch-
^m, tilc« St, Loo the Great, St, Gregory, St. Bertvard, Inno-
'fine HL, and Boniface VJll,, bom targe on Mr, \\\\\'i canva:^.
And, laithful to the spirit which, on the whole, is cherished by
oar prcient-day historians of the tirtt rank, he \% looking, not
'or facl> or appearances lo pEOVe some pre-conceived theoryj
bill for tmth. The result ia that ihc papacy and the Church
ife tr«*Eed by him with a measure of justice which, hitherto,
tbcy rarely ro&Dived frum a noa-Catholic writer. Seldom, at
tile han<i of s^wy one whci conaidcn U to be Jin axiomatic
iniEh that modem liberty i» the most precious gain of advanc-
JOg civilisation, has the Pope who dcnognccd M^pio Charta as
a vile, d«jjpicAbIr, and tniipiitouD pjtct, been £o hand«cmely ap-
preciated x% he if in the following passage; "It would be an
iajusilee lo lh« character of Innocent HI. to regard him aa the
lere incarnation of worldly liomination and putitical intrigue,
he carried the idea of icmporal power to a greater leniith
th4n aay of hi» prcdece»ftor«> U wa« because the aspiration for
power vafl the characteristic of his lime, and ibe posseseion of
authority scented the only way to insure Ehr: ri^ht regulalion
ot the world. It is necessary to judge the sentiments and ac-
3$6
NEir BOOKS.
[Nov .
lions o\ an age by the 5Cai]dar<lE oi the lime. Thus jod^ed,
Innoceni &iand« out a« the embodiment of rdleiou^ cnthu&ium
fftlsed to a pmillon of hrgh ptilcnliaiity- The Church wa« the
onty rrnlty European insiifutJon of the? day, nnd the Papacy
Wis the almost universally recogniied authorUy in the Cfturcb,
To extend and strengthen Us povers, ?ind to brlog all men
tinder its sway^ were, iherefore. from the papal point of view,
the highest services that could be rendered To humanJiy,"
Our students of et^Jesiasttcal hjitcry who are condtmmd
\Q depend, in tnost msiances, o^ works absolulely devotd <A-
ickntific method, wHI find this ivork valuable For two reaseni :
it will enable them lo acquire a clear, Luminous view of tbe
secuLar activities of the papacy in the wide&t field on which it'
wat displayed: it will, furthermore, provide them with an ck-
ceLIent object leMon in the method of studying history.
Nowadiy«, when one hc^irs so much of the demoralidng
etiect* on character ol Americafi public life, It U rclfohfeg io>
(^nd one of our public men willing to devote hia energies to
achotarly occupaiiouK, and able to produce a work of »uch high
excellence b9, judging from the first instalment, Mr. HOr*
JlisUry of Ettroptan Difhmaey promises to be.
This lirst rosB of auluiun * is ■
ROSF 0' THE RIVBR. young Maine girl, pretty, of coune,
By Kate Dougl^ Wiegla. lively, ^aoA natured, And x XxttX-
cla^a houickppper. What wonder
that 9he wt4 nought by all the young men along the river.
The river i( the Saco, down which in ibe epHngtime float Ibc
great rafts of [ngs de&ilned for ihe sawmills- The breakmi*
up of the jnms that occur during The pn^^age of the rails i>
the chief object ol local intcrfft, and the Jine^t opening for
native heroism and intrepidity. Young Strphea ni&kra tucb
good use of bit opportunities here that he abrainn from Rote
B promi»e ol her h*fld, She, however, rcmalni mbject to
vague aspirations after the delights of city liic. of which stt^^
htti heard something. Then appears on I he scene a Priae^^
Chinning, in Ih*? person of a clerk in a Beaton dcparimen
store, who causes ^ very serious jam In Stephen's love a^Tairf^
Hut the marriage bells which have been potlpcaed for a titti ■
'^4m i*<lt*ft ^y K«fF D4U|;I» WlEfta, lUuirnrtJ bf OmsrWricU.
at^ S'tw V(Kk: Koiijl^tan, Mitiliu ic C4.
tOT]
I/EH' BOOK'S.
167
ring out merrily in the end. With a slight plot and common-
pltee iticl<lent| the author* through her clever dclincftllon of
U^ine mftnaers and peculiailtics, makes up an amusing atory
that may be read 111 a coupfe ot hours.
This volume of spiritual dir«ciioD'
LETTERS <m THE SPIftl- cnnsisls oT two series of lelieis ad-
TDAL LIFE. dressed to two nnns- The author,
By I'Abbe de ToarviilE. who died in 190J, was A priest dis-
tinguiahed hi hJs learning, £cal>
ind piety— ^(fl9 whfeh enabled him to exercise u deep irflu-
ctift over a circle much wider, and. intellectualjy, more tm<
porOQt, thjin that which fdl within bi$ humble oRiciak raitge.
In the first series, addressed to a person addicted io scrupkf,
ihr method of authority is steadily resorted to, and H we rnay
judge from the gradual aub&idence of the note, with fiatUUctory
nsult& The general tenor of the diroctioii is in accocdance
*iEh the matim of St. Paul: Rfj^iet. again / say co you, re-
jficf, iupplemontcd by that of St. AuguatinCi Arta, tt Jac quod
9ij. There is a constant insistence upon the danger* of para-
Ij^^Dg one's Bpirituai energies by a morbid indulgence in intro-
spection, and o( frittering them away in gathering up the mint
>M cummin of pett^ txtcrn-ililissH ir&ledd of demoting ihem to
Th« cultivation of the wheat of the Goapei, loving cnnlidence in
]tiM% Chri«t- A* may be seen from both series, the writer be-
^'W* that the true nchcmw of roligious perfection for those en-
|ipd in active work does not call for the absolute cxlirpalion
i^r onc'a individuality, or the suppression of all personal iniiia-
I'Tc, Corresponding to the value assigned to cheerful, loving
•Crvice in personal development, the ahbt advocates the culti-
^tion of iin tnipirint; optimism towards outside life, When
hif correspondent deplore* ilui lome of her relatives have for*
tott«n hftr convent in thiiir wjIIa, he advises her not to be af-
Aictcd, for, nowadays, private iortunts in the world can be of
iDOre service than if they were handed over to religious In^iti-
tiliona : ami, he Add?, funda dev<:>ted to religioiiB foundation:^, in
the tong run, alw^yi find ihemi^elves diverted to ends quite dif.
fcrcnt thAA thoM for which th«y were inivnded. It the tax-
Xatherer too oauch in evidence f " Tio not be downcast. There
ve worac evIU for a convent than the lAx-jjatherer."
a«
A'EW BOOKS.
[N»«.,
I
Wh«Q he finds a tendency lo expand into it^remUdc o»cr
the evil conditions of Lhc day, he wriics~ " There ta do ntcd lo
weep over Ihc world 39 if it were loit, Wc wjtae«« »imp]y a A
crilift between Ihe aid )<pirit and the new; and ihe ctUiu br-
comes moffl acute «& the old spiriT perceives thai nothing U
Jiny lonjEcr adjusted to its point or vievr."
ApHfi from it£ tiiility af. h pi«c« of dirrction, the follown]|f
passage is inieresiing for the visias of which ll nflordt ti gliTTpfe?
'■If you arc iroubkd by clojd* ^athcrinif over your faitti,
it 15 merely because that subject ha& been lo poorly taugbl in
view of acludl needs» That one c^innot Alway* know where OB
atandi, On this accoiunt I hav^ been drit^cn Eo begin «gaio all
my theological siadie£. In order to come to solid ground. Soi&e
liay I shall put you au umranl, for it iti a ileplorttble iliirg to
leave fouli unnablc oa ihoie basei of their faith which are ift h
themselvG» a« *olid m a rock. 'The littU onc^ have aiJied fcrV
bread, and there wis no one to break it to them>' In this
Age cverythiii|£ li lo be recAnt, even ihone ihiiigi whichi in
ttom selves, are unchangeable. Has nature changed/ Never- ^
the^ess you perceive that our methodE of interrogating ^*iV
through chemistry and physics, have changed. Our methods
improve an<I we fiee better the ^me things. This, precisely, it
what u needed in regard lo docuinc."
The reader of this volume is prepared to learn that tbff
Author, ft disciple of L,c Play, was a deep iiudent of the soeial
tcieaces, and ha» left sunie t'aluable work on <|uc»iona of >oclo-
logy, which his editors promise to publish.
I
J
LETTERS OF JOHN OF
AVILA.
To a great number of us John of
Aviia is best known, perhaps* by
the fact that be was the pcrsoafl
selected to pronounce upon the
supefnaturat experiences of Si, Teresa; and tbat it wa& for hi»
Information she undertool< to write her famous autobiography.
But he has other cUims upon the admiration and gratitude
thr ra^rler of a^ceticii] literature; Chough, until the present tim
there hai br^en little of his writing; avBihiblr to the mo<ie
English world. The volume * before us— with its interesting ae^^
count ol his life from the pen of the Abbot Gasquet — will *
'^'-
^
<w]
NEii' Hooks,
369
divr«for«. Bene to introduce a new figure into ihc seEect ^-
wmbUge of ivHlers from whom we seek m^pirAlion and spiri-
eutt nourishmcnt-
In liU owr day J<>hn of Avitaj as might easily be inferred
(mm (he pHTt assigned him in determining' tbe characier of St
Teresa's ptety, was a man of tfnuAu^] distinction. As preacher,
director. And author he won commcTiddtton^ ijf a kind i\mlx. com«
to btil few. He hari considerable share in the foTmatitin of
hmg than one canoniied taint; and his teaching was Kstcncd
10 reverently by men as carerui in the selection of their apiri-
luil Tn»T«r« ai the Spanish Jesuits, who used (o read his works
10 the refectory durinit a constderablt portion of the year.
Tb« pre«at selection of his letters — twenty-five in number
^)ii6 been mad« from a series of nearly one hundred and fifty.
Th^y are varied enoitgh to give s good idea of the general
cbiEftctcristict of the saini'$ leaching, and po<ises< suflicicnt
cebereucy to form an acceplablc little treatiac. They are con-
cerned for the moat part with encuuragin^ a.nd consoling souls
in affliction, and probably will be none the less welcome to tho
oajorily of us on thai accounts
I
TBK FREEDOM OP THE
WILL.
Bj Sharpe.
In this tec(urc ' wc have a concise,
lucid presentation of the chief
scholastic arguments for the free-
dom of thf will, stated in lan-
guage diverted, as far as po£«iblTr
ri technical phraseology. The proof which lies in the cotnmon
tonvictioD of manleiDd U forcibly brought out. The fallacy
underlying the determtnUt position, that the wilt Always obeys
the vtronjg«Bl motive, is neatly exposed; and much i:: made
of the fact that dcterminists are obliged to confess that even
ibey^ who hold at true that the will i* determined, are com-
pelled, under penalty of Khatteiidg ihe bases of all tonal nnd
mural life, to treai their own opinion ae an error The itu-
ilent whose philosophic developmtnt has depended on some of
text booka will be lomcwhat sur]ifUed to find the
It thai "it it» beyond aW doubt thai the con»jousneai
of freedom cusoi be ba^ed. a> it U popularly luppoaed to bo,
vpon > direct Intuition of U^^^dt^fn an «uch/'
The lecturer csiposes in outline the cla^ic theory of the ic-
«;ii
neh^ bqoks^
[Nov.,
latton between wit) Aod mtdkcc, and «ni^eavora to solve th«
crur which secnu lo ftdse when the two faculties are rcpre-
icatftd Af mutuAll^ obeying each oih«T In a seemingly «ftdkt*
iD«rry-^- round. He iniicpidly assumei as incontrovcriibic ih«
view thai Ihe wUl cannot help obfying Ihe final report of the
int^lkct- He might, perhaips, have obs^ived here that, while ■
ibis it ihe opinion upheld by the school which has always
ctainicd (0 be the faithful exponent ^nd hereditary guardi^iQ ol _
Thomistic doctrine, another school contends iliat ihc true Tho-f
mUtic leaching i% jusi the coniradictory. In this '* dnsb o1 yci
and nay " the Lruth Lies. But why disregard the aulhoriiy wbtcb
warns u& of the folly of needlessly taking pail m a neighbor's
4^uarT0l? In conclu&ion the lecturer slightly touches tipon tbc
theological problem of the relation of the will and grace, but
he pjiicLnnily excuses himself from undertaLix^g a. discussion of _
the topic- The tn&k which fae did undertake, [hat is, to show |
that the theory of free will latUfactorily accounts for the faci»,
whereas the doctrine of lieterminism fails to explain Ihe most
imporlanl onei^, he h^ dinchBTgrd in full: so thai ihi:^ lillle
volume tnu^t rank as a iisefut, popular presentation and dcfcntc
of a truth equally indispensable to morality and to religiorr. M
This volume* covers Ihe qucsticot
SUMMA OF PHiLOSOPHY. of the existence of God and the
cJiviue attribute!!. Like tlH two
predccevtors. it is remarknblc for il^ clear, compnci arrargemeEit ;
lor the bappy medium that It strikes between Jejune brevity and f
unneceuary difFiJsen<»; and fur the fairness with which it Itcati*
both Mdet in controverted <^ue5iion5.
The author, whose nttrnc religious modesty conccala from ua,
U conferring a bcncAt on ecclesiastical eiudents. If one con-
bidci* only the -ttufiLber uE text book^ iJiat dliencly mtnpetP for
the honor of guiding the beginner lo the perennial welU of
acholattie philosophy, one would be inclined to tay thai m
tealous scholar injghi eafily find a more profitable occopairao
than adding to the plethoric list. But, k^ everybody knows,
mere ntfiiil>trs here do not indicate an abundance of distiact
and separate aids to ttudy. There is a multitude of individttalt,
Sut no useful variations uf the typcn In ihiv iScld of produc- M
MfK'f Aiiil-tnj iffictw^sr.-. VaEudK-n Ui- (■'■(> I'nur^i 'llmlDUii r<HiiiBlL OMAHi
NEtr BOOATS.
171
tint the law of characlerhwion has rdgntd for generations,
Ko Ubcful diver|;fnce disturbs the niDnoLonous current oi he-
ndicy. Every niaw compendinn; is a copy of ll^ prt-deceissorj
«r of the made] from which its predecessor was copied. Some
liijfhl, inai^EiJricant inversions in the order ol the qucfitiont, a
little mote partix^rship, or a liUle more impartiaiiiy, on ihe
grounds where Nen and Dianc^bi arc marshaltd agam&t one an*
fllher, *r< the only apology offered by eath newcomer lot hift
Mpciriuous eAL£lcitce, Beyond this- — ihe same old ihefet, the
twae old proofs, the same old objtfctions, ju^t as if Uie huinfln
mind hid been standing at gate for ages.
For this reason wt have welcomed the first two volumes,
»d we oow welcome Ihis third section of the Mount Mellary
compendium- It has dared 10 add to the tcscF eopjon; notes,
uiually in Engli&h. from modern sources, ^nd thereby it will
give the students who use it at least an inkling of Ihe posi-
tian of the modern mind, Thi» feature would be Mill more
vcLcome if w< could accept it as a pledge ihat from the
UtTlB cjuKrler i>ur students will yet be supplied with &uine aup-
F^tffmeatary ?tudira that will treat competently the problems of
"iturai theoZofty, as they arc posed in our own day. Though
JIT buitom the argumetil^ for the truths of natural religion and
Ilia ob]ectionri advaticed again^l them remain the ^me, still
tbe point of conflict shifts from age to age, and the loe must
t« Jpilowed and met on his own ground. As a consequenccn
I'^t onpftrative importance ol ijucsiions vanes. Many that
Itemed capital in the estimate of the philosophical and iheo-
l<>tical mJnd three hundred year^ ago. have been crowded
"^to the bHL-k^round by others more fundamental and, conse-
fjiitttly. now more pressing, A good third of the present
"rolane, we notice, is, in compliance with alrlct traditions, de-
voted to Ihe Kubtle theories and never-endfng dihcui^sions Ihat
4re babied in findtng Answers to the problems ol JicfTv God knows
'uiuricy of this, that, and the other kind; /lOW he co-operates
ia human actions; how he, who is one indivisibLe, unchanging,
unchanj^cablc Aci, wills one thing >jv//f^i/rrr/fr, and wills socne-
ihing entirely opposite ^cHuquittrer ; and other such ^luestiona
ia which the plummet of reason is employed to sound the
depth* of infinity^
Ceriamly the study of scholastic speculation in this region
alorda vxceUcni dLaJcctieaJ iriiinin^, IfuL does it pay» just now,
to devote so much precious lime 10 speculattons which many
£905-] NEiv Books. 373
The golden jubilee of the Sisters
A STORY OF FIFTY of the Holy Cross, which wa3 cele-
YEARS. brated last summer, has produced
an inspiring contribution to our
American Catholic history." In a volume marked by an Eng-
lish style of real distinction^ and a modest spirit to which all
bsasting is foreign, some unknown member of the Congrega-
tion has told the story of half a century of zeal and prayer,
Che results of which are as wide as our country and as imper-
ishable as the heavenly kingdom itself In schoolroom and in
hospital, caring for orphans and soothing pain upon the bat-
tlefield, the tioly Cross nun^ have given a shining example of
the power and beauty of consecrated lives; and have done a
work so noble as to elicit from the highest quarters testi-
monials of appreciation and gratitude. Their Civil War rec-
ord IS more than honorable; it is sacred. On the field at Fort
Donclson, and in the military hospitals at Paducah, Memphis,
and Louisville, these sisters wrought deeds of unobtrusive
courage equal to the best display of valor on the part of Fed-
erals or Confederates. " None excelled them/' says Archbishop
Ireland, **m daring feats and religious fervor; no other order
made such sacrifices as the Holy Cross. '^
The history of such a community is a consolation and an
iiiapiraiion- We laid down this beautifully written book with
awish that the Congregation may be augmented with hundreds
of new members who will pass on to a future generation the
virtues and the courage of the beginners and pioneers.
'A Starr */ Fiftf Vtan. FJocre Pame, Indiana : Si^rcra qI the Hoty Crosi^
VOL. LXAXn.— 18
jforcifln pcriobicals.
Tai/fr{i6 Sept.): Dr. Vthx dc Backer conclude* bis >«riea,
" L^urdc^ and ihc Doctprs," with an artitJc entitled
" Kh^lhm and Mecbani^m of Miraculous Cures." Sever*
si cures ar« alleged, «ach attested by scientific r«ccgni-
lion. The charactetUtics of th« Great Force arc ctis-^
cusscf]. aud the fattieefi of supernalurah int; fvtntion in
behalf of the faithful poor ard suffering h dearly act
(ortb-
{33 Sept): The laW text of three sermons delivered
by the Bishop ol Newport* Abbot Gasquet^ and the
Bishop of Clifton, at the opening of ihe Abbey Cbutcb
at Downside. All thr«e are siiperiot ftTorta of sAcred
eloquence. The tubjccts treated are: "The Past of
MondSticifiEU " ; " The Story of the EnglUh Benedk-
tinea"; aud the dominant note of the third cerniGn is
that of thanksgiving joined with a strong confidence as
to what the future still holds veiled. The Abbot Presi-
dent of the Engtieh KenedJctEncA ha4 received a letter
from Pope Pius .X.. conlerrirtg important privileges upon
the new church at Downside.
(30 Sept,): The Ronj^n carrcipondent gives an inter-
eating account of the Holy Father's endeavors to afr-
Biit his suflcring countrymen in Southern Italy. At
a recent Conference of the Catholic Truth Society, the
Rev, Thomas JackBon lajrenls the fe^fcness cf Erglit^h
a^nd Irish missionaries in the heathen pans of the Hast.
There are nufnbers of British Caibclics filliitg all kinds
of offict^, ^nd in nemly every capacity except thai of
missiaHAry. This state of alTairs seems to the wrtl«r
strainge and incomprehensible.
The Hihbert Jaarftal {0<x.\i The editor believes that our Chris-
tian scholars have heretofore given far loo little consid-
eration to non Christian religions and especially to Bud-
dhism. This can be the case no longer. Through the
rive oi Japan. Iluddhisin has brcn revealed as a factor
of immense potency in the moral development of Oie
rac«. The writer goes on to discuss the following qu«>-
lion, nrhich h* itftcru in a strictly hypochetkal form:
How would our Views ol the moral supremacy d Chris-
tendom be Aflccud "if A race of non-Cbrisiian men
should appear who, when judged by accepted etiindards
of character, should he at on^c pronounced the moral
Auperior* of Christian races"? M. Anesaki devotes a
lengthy paper entitled: ''Haw Christianity Appeals to
ft J«pftnrfie Kuddhist," (o a comparison ol the ChriHtian
religion with Buddhism, Both religions, he says, claim
lo be universal, both have the same mi^aion, namely, to
lipread their respective doctrines over the entire world.
He beheves that the harmony of these two absolute re-
ligions is as grave a probUia of the future as the har-
mony o( the various divisions of Chnsiianity. " Cnn,"
he «iik*, "a Buddhist nation contribuie anything to civ-
ilitition without being converted to Chrislianrty ? " *' U
ft poAKible that Christian nations and the Chiistian civ-
tllxatior adhering to Christianiiy should Weep in h«r-
tnony with the Buddhist nationb ai^d Buddhist civiUsa-
tion^'* The Utter and KfA^c^ P^rt of the article is de-
voccd CO sk. disc as* ion of these questions.
^^utnaticiii/ Journai */ Bifiiu (July); In an ankle or> the
" Morjl Training of the Young in the Catholic Church/^
Philip R- McDevtet itivei a clear exposition of the prln-
ciplea that underlie Catholic education and explains the
practical wcrkir^ out of those principle! in the Arch*
diooaie of HhiJadelphiA,^ -Two other Artiele-i of t^^pecial
incerett arc, »n historical sketch of vicarious sacrifice,
hy CbarJes W. Super, and & discussion of the analogies
between moraJ causation and artisiic production, by A.
U. Linsay.
(October) : Kobert Ah Woods traces the growth of ^ocUl
work from the lime when lE wat a mere avocation lot
gentiernen of means to the present day, when it is right'
\f numbered among the professioni. M- V. O'Sheift
bn a remarkable p;iper on the development of the etht
cal eofiftcioti^nr^M in the ehiM. Henry S. Su^t, of the
Ilumaiiitanao League. London^ condemns corporal pun-
j*hiii«fil and wriiet* h strong ari^umcnt for il« Abolitiun.
Tiir Cru^ibU iSept |t In thii second issue of this Quarterly of
Htgher Education for WoiticA, ;iie editor invites ariicici
3
3^6 Foreign Periodicals. [Nov.,
on educational and social topics, expressing the hope,
that " difiidence as to literary gifts or want of experience
will not deter any one from writing who is conscious of
something to say," the object of the magazine being to
offer a medium for the exchange of ideas on the educa-
tion of women and the part they are to play in social
life- Fr. Culhbert, 0-S-F,C, contributes a thought-
inspiring article on "Will Power and Obedience/' in
which he holds that we can be sure that obedience is a
virtue only in the strong character — an idea apparently
foreign to the prevailing notion of modern spiritual lit-
erature. -Miss Crawford makes a plea for a more syste-
matic and extensive teaching of art to schoolgirls, ■
St. M. Catherine writes of "The True Goal of Educa-
tion." "Mildred Partridge compares the advantages of
home and school education. Sr. M. Frances offers
some suggestions for the arrangement of studies and
classes in convent schools.
The PiychoUgical Review — Monograph Supplement : " The
Theory of Psychical Dispositions," By Charles A. Du-
hr^y, S.M. A Dissertation Submitted to the Faculty of
Philosophy of the Catholic University of America, in
partial fnlfilnient of the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy, Washington, D, C., 1505. Pp. 170,
Revue de Lille (Aug.): Th. Lewridan, in his article on "Epi-
graphy in the Department of the North/' gives many
valuable hints concerning the importance of this science.
The investigation of epigraphs, monuments, coins> etc,
provides the student of history with most valuable in-
formation, Tt serves to fix uncertain dates, to rectify
facts, to tell of the customs and usages of the people,
etc. Especially is epigraphy important for local history
of any kind. In the history of art it is useful, and like-
wise in the science of philology.
La Revue ApGh^etique (iG Sept); "The Apologetic Problem"
is taken up by J- V. Bainvel and given a very satisfying
explanation. He writes of it from many points of view,
considering it especially as a praiiical problem for all
Christians. It is an intellectual problem for ibo&e en-
trusted with the defence of faith. They must know th^
needs of souls, and nau«t be able to give reasonable ex—
planalions for the faith ihey vthh \o propagate. Il is
Dot the sentiment oi tdlgiaus belief they should chflm-
pion, but faith in a c«rttiii and particular tfcim oi re^
tigiout belief Apologi&ts for Calbolichy can Jind a
great deal of fatlh in those witLout the fold to serve as
A groundwork for Catholic doctrine, and another advan-
tage to u« corner icom the fact that txtany outside (he
Church are di^satisftfd, lh«ir usual Blair of mind is that
of a critic or doubter The Catholic mind, however, is
nortnally In peace of spiiit- Wc ttsx serenely in the
possession of Ihr Irulb. 11 all dcnion±lrai(d ihi^ in lifc
and conduct many would be led to enjoy this same
truth and peace,
^■ir; (3 Sept.): The Belgian Catholics have many reasons to
acknowledge the prelection and guidance of God in their
rehgioua and poliltcai life. Little did they ihink that
ttie happiness of the present day awaited ihrm when, in
1^15, William I. ascended the throne oi the Netherlands.
Oppressed by the house of Oxange, deprived of thejf
Eighth as cilifcnb, they remained fiim in faith and in
loyally to principles. )n i^jc the tide of atTairs changed,
Leopold 1. was called to the ihrone of n?lfLi<jm» now
separated from Holland, and wiih him ihe Catholics,
holding fast to their former principleSj but changing
tbdr attitude^ pleaded tbeir cautt^ As a result, by de-
grees, Ihey have regained their rights »$ citLzcnf* and At,
Catholics have obtained niflny signal pnviltgfs, One
case will sufllice for lUuitration: Twenty fathers of fam-
ilies can demand Irom the community the oiganuiilion
ol a school where religion Js taught, and if a inunicipaL.
Iiy 90 decides religious teaching is obligatory in all the
ichoob coming under it» power. Such U the ecope ol
H. Pr^lftt's ATticIe. Under the title ■* Trotetlfinl and
Cattolic Nations," Yves de la Kricre undertakes to ex-
amine the staiemcntfr of several ?roi«»iaiM historians,
eapecifdiy thnsc of Ruus^et and Laveleye. coneeining ihe
condition of the Catholic at^d Prote&iant naiicn^. Both
of thefc authors eoncEudc that rroieataoiUm i& the cause
of the proaperity of Germany, England, and Ihe Uniled
Sutes, while Cfllhollc principles have broirghi Austria,
FrascCt and Spain to their present indu»triai conditioc^
^fB FOMSIGN PERiODlCALS. [Nov.,
These last three in the sixteenth aad seventecnlh cen-
turieii were wholly Catholic and were the leading nations.
But now, vbile they are called Catholic, it cannot be
said that they are controlled by Catholic influences, but
rather by Protestant and atheistic forces. On the other
hand, England, Germany, and the United Slates cannot
claim the tide of Proteetant nations, for a large portion
of their populations is CathoHc, Hence, the author ar->
gues, the conclusion of Rousset and Laveleye cannot
stand the test of criticism,
(20 Sept): In this number Yves dc la Bnere concludes
his article on the " Protestant and Catholic Nations.*'
He examines into the real causes of pro&periiy and
misery in the Protestant and Catholic sections of Swit-
zerland and Germany, and in Catholic Spain and Prot-
estant England, In Switzerland the soil and climate are
the chief causes ; in Germany, Catholic Bavaria has not
the rich coal mines of Protestant Saxony. For the causes
of Spanish retrogression we must go back to the times
of Charles V. and Philip II., when the wealth of the
New World was poured into Spain, causing luxury, idle-
ness, and sloth. If we are to investigate the prosperity
of England, we must not forget the Hundred Years' War,
the beginning of England's vast sway, when a Catholic
Edward held the sceptre- Likewise in the social order
we sec that it is not due to Catholic or Protestant in-
fluences whether a country is good or bad. but rather
to Christian influences.
Lt Correspondani fio Sept,): The close of the "Marriage of
Talleyrand" tells of the separation of Mme. Talleyrand
from the Prince and her deathbed reconciliation to the
Church and her asking of pardon for the scandal her life
had caused — and of the Prince's own reconciliation (dur-
ing his last hours at the hands of Mgr, Dupanloup.
In the form of a review of Mrs. Alherion's The Conqueror^
Jean TeJncey sketches the career of Alexander Hamilton;
for he thinks this a timely topic, in view of the fact that
Mr. Roosevelt's success at the polls signalizes the victory
of the aristocratic party in the United States, and the
progress of the country in a way which was opened
lir«t by Hamilton. Mr< Rooaevelt Is attacking tbote ^t-
r90S.] FOREIGN PERIODICALS. 279
ccBses ivhicTi democracy m&kc« dangerous in every Land^
and which in America had come to be erected into the
very means of government. He is hard at work trying
to make America a powerful anity in the world, to con-*
centrate by imperialism the force which the federalist
spirit Ze«ve» divided and weak.
(25 Sept.): Rudolphe Muller sketches the Fifty-Second
' General Congress of German Catholics held at Sfrasburg
on the 20Ch of last August. M. Aulard, Professor at
the Sorbonne, having refused to serve on a committee
for erecting a monument to Taine, whom he designates
as a writer hostile to the republican and democratic and
non-clerical spirit, an article is devoted by M. Pascal to
a defense of TaJne's patriotism.
**^^^ a'Hisioire et de Uuirature ReligitMSi (Sept.-OcC.) : M.
LoLsy discusses critically the '^great commandment" of
love of God and neighbor. He thinks that the parable
of the Good Samaritan should be the context of these
words of our Lord. M. Paul Lejay studies the theol-
ogy of C^sarius of Aries, especially his doctrine of sin.
One of the peculiarities of the teaching of C^esarius is
the belief that small sins coalesce Co form grievous guilt-
His opinions on hell are of great severity. So systematic
is his theology that M, Lejay calls him U premier homme
du tnoyen lige.—' — M. A. Dufourcq cites some verses of
the poem of the pagan prefect RutilJus Namatianus which
look like an indirect refutation of St. Augustine's City
of Gad.
^ ** ^ales de Phihsophie (TAr/z/fffff^ (August-September) : M. Mar-
tin, writing on Origen as a biblical criticj says that Ori-
gen held: i. That the Septuagint should be received as
canonical; 2. That the Scriptures are divine; 5- That
they contain hidden and mysterious teachings; 4, That
no merely human study, and no soul not in God's grace,
can discover their real meaning; 5. The greater number
of men cannot understand the Scriptures; 6. That the
rapid diffusion of Christianity is a strong proof that the
Scriptures are true. A writer on the religion of Israel
maintains that the order of prophets was of Canaanilish
origin^ and originally composed of dancing dervishes.
The earlieit Hebrew service for the dead may have been
3fiO
Books receii'ed.
[Kov.,
adoptctJ from the Egyptian, M, Girerd shows ibat Gcd
may not be tbc proximate aod immediate cause of mim-
cks, but may work them through Mcond causes.- Oih<r
articles are on Carteaian Doubt; Dante as a Catholic
Mystic; TertulMan's Theology and General Philosophy,
Rassrgna NuMiohaU (iC SepL) : Carlo Caviglione writes on ibe
orthodoxy of the philosophical Icachin^cs of Rosminl m
view of h couple of rectnt books on thai subject- He
applauds Professor Morando who, in the introduction 16
his thr«e-voluni« work, 6r»l (races carefully the hUtory
of The war waged on Riiaoiinj'? reputation for holiness
and orthodoxy, and then, putting on the one side the
condemned sen^c of the forty piopodtions, seis over
a^^nst it the sen&e understood by the author and dedu-
cible from the context, slatinE thai this laiier sense is
conformable to the teachini:- gf che TaEhers and the Doc-
tors of the Church,
Cit*itt!i Catt&Uiir {\6 Sept,): Gives a rc?siim<^ of a recent work
by i'- Lcpicier upon The Six Bays of Crrariff«, which,
after adducing^ St, Thomas' slatement, '* It it dr Jiiit that
the f\T^X individuals of the various species hav« bem
immediately created by God." goes on to say: '* Between
Huxley) who called evolution incompatible with Chris*
tianity, and Mivart, who regarded them as reconcilable,
we do not heaiute to side with Hunley,"
I
BOOKS RECEIVED.
jr** /-jytjUiv Prtiti. Hy V,'mir.m ChimJier Bn^l?/, Vn*-|-r*'iPlrrn ihd Din<lcra<
ltirr<iQt>( bitoi iibKt. Nifw YdiIi;
l^bti n/ tfif fnfluk Miifi^r* ny finiPi Aih- tr.yny. I'p^rp flt 7^ tiri »~9-fmtt V*n/if^
riKa 40c4lir4 nii. Hiimmtf 0/ /yj*v-c4d«/ I'rift 4'. '^■im a?l. Mut^f of St. £J^
Ct/kftTt*^-" I'm* Ij i;L,nH net. /■/iiMfiiti tfjij ^itHfrJi fitr Hilf'tt U't Dy Vmt Re*.
■ kWj A <,r'Uun?tDii l'«i"' |i ^0 3taitiM%ant Bf til f^ntjntfamr Ltii. Tnu-
G^rwim tlanrt»< fV«'<BT. Bji tJen JoTin UhiApman, O-^ H, iVic* iictinu,
n, B'i,-*i*t « Cc , St* Voik:
7irf £>■<* V^^*w*>v/ MMi^imt. tly Rrv, Andrr* Kliifnijnh J^ lU. Thh t' 1*1-
imA
Books receiveI},
afli
^^B fhi Trmit^ ff Calftfy .- er. tkt I4inutt iMlaiit ^f cnr^u'i l-ifi ftvm /"j/m Sumtv Artm-
^^F 'V '^ ^ ^rarmim *mi /^itfiifm. \ iVcn liofn pruiihrc), 1iiiiii>i>, TntJitriDii. una
AUnmi: f/aimr%M4. /IfAA.dA ^iMttfufUti- Uf riwtArT« R- CaHildi- Pp. itin.Hf*'
1t |tltl>1l. 3t E-jtHiH^MO,!
iditrm firtt TfuufiH. Uv Ihe Kcv J, Grnrd. &J^ rrin fQ unri act 7^r ffmtKtl4
HveiTToV. Mirviin fi Co.. N<w VofV laj fioiiun
TMm (<ii|tf<*K fitrr/cutiMi A >rup]y <^ rhc kpEnHont l^lWHit ChJr1|^ and Siai4 Ifi <li*
:TiiM Oniury, A- A. llr ih« )f» ^S(r<k J, llflilr. H O,. ol ihd CvtvoiBlf CmvonU/
Inii*^ Rii-.-Wri * Ci» , Bcnrnn, Mam -
fa* /flviptffe /Ai/#k''*i«irf. Py S'l'i K HimmJ^PVi WJHi ]■> r-iill-L''"Ji' lUpMtrBimnt '■'"»
Oh K<^iiir< r^ tij. l-rn'r ^1 y^ O1 ftiff-'^rt^ Liwt . \ ftonrapf* #i( 8r«"rh AfMf4.
Vt Ani44 Cli*iJ]ri kav kV>J llatnilign I}roaW )'u[JBit
iUft LitH. Chicle, TIT
H^ihtf^i Afi^f-t /."cffonary, iMtan^dtut School tdtllon. tompiTod t^ K. I. Rm,
^■*H. UAiFTAtn ft Co., Ftofiftn Maji r
Jim'li yit\tU, ITi-«-Ei- !'"%!« $1.10."
■thwuiiT PBEKTrna rVtiCEn Wt^TkliiFrnn. D. C r
f^r^t**rr04AmtJ»"J^- 'v^v. Pp. Ju,-
Uikrf.^^JvfiUSi'r'i'fi i'ft By Alib4 Fi-lli Klr-it, ^r ilii- CaiMic Uo^mHy </
pKit Wlrh I'lntfliic nnil VIpwu I'p. il.-j*?- Cfl" *J "ffi,
hvtf ^ ft. ja. l*Aj)ri,
^^1 Knw, P|^ ail 'jM PiiLrj/'.
^H >tO<Hd f^cmhif^rc 4 Alt^- PrUv & /', LUif^ffim CtnTi^MV, >*« L0111 H, La-
i/f.'/f/*fri/t^/--i'VPf' J-\'*n^t.,l |-,i j ri>>i^«r|4rf p|, ^,4 F*l)V. L* Vat it
J'npeT_ rjpVinr ^t^Io^a^
»
Art A'Cubl'i'f /'jiMi, t'nr T.'ri VmrEjjhCiu ik riii^olnftlft, Pp^ At I'dpir- l-zttiiiiu
Vto )■ K- r- [torn I St ncHt 1^^ at t^tr^ /jj />/«u^ iJwr^DT J* ^ £e>iit/^.
Nr V Briui^m i'f "Vi l^iprr /" Fttf P^mttM^. Pw* l^ R p Fr llfftri-
Pk' I AbU A- r]Qiiair»]iuu. pu. ^4. {'af^t. to U^mm r.n«iBr/4 J'm ''fiiL Uril'
toll pp <i4, r^ri'i 1.' AfAte^H^f 4 rn'.t'^M" ph I[< k p j r^- riii^if «
4A*h*ii«. P^i bi P«|*r. ,^ri*j/'''*'* fl C'^oof-ii" r>* AmW"'' SinHJ-r^ihl
I
1
THE COLUMBUS KEADING UNION.
HOW man? tnemb^n nf n*ed*d to form ■ Rtadtng Circ-I? f This -^um-
tLOD b» lM«n a<ktd by ni«ay ol our corrrtp«DdQrtl«> In replr m 4»te
Ihnl Ebn CnlmnUiAH RBAding Union will ntil mnkc: iiny rulct cpiicriiting ifae
mimlxr ai mcmf»fn n: ihc ptivatc ni»Ei)i^tm?])i nl4ny tmaniuijon Jiniliti«il
loii. Out wuik ii to ^HlliFi LufuimutLVii mid ^vli]i*h htl* of tiuvkb wkicli
f^rll be a( uiEiUncc Ee tU IntercHed In the diffusion of £ood ItFfiarur*.
Kcidirig Cir<lf»<4l} b« orginifcd in dlflercnt wayi, ;Uh«r In connection mih
pa#»li or publir ^ibrafiot, or on an indf|>pi>HfPi butiv- li maLtt a ct>ii«Ldrr-
ablc^aviii;; Af nprMr \i ih^ hcolH if hr tiir^d iran br borrewrd ffom a libiMty.
Obwivui id*^iLnLB|fri cnty bf ebEAincd by ihotc iBiocUud wiih Calbaltccircu-
litmi- Eibrurici- Tbc bo(ik& «t](ctrd Atv pu'cU^jicU by ib? piiiihli library, ^nd
arr rnaile iftTctiiblp without eirra <^r>ic ro thf nntniben of the Rridtlj^ Cticlr*.
In many pUixt the >ime plnn <ouIfl nu il^iubL l^c applied Lo pubbc litraiifi.
Thcfc 11 no lii^il way oT jtflrnnE n K^iirttng Cleric, citcpi thai tflUiv nne or
m9(v pi*r40ii& aiit«i ■K'tk; c« tilL about tbc mjiiicr- Fi^c mcmbm irv,
enough Lo make a bcginnitig, allliDUglt ■ tiiucb l»r^ci numbci tbodd be en-
Tollrd wrliprrvcf i: cnn tnr sa aerjinprd- V*rY fc* puIc* mp nccciMry-
Send ihc name al youi Keidinji Ordc lui Ibe kk'^^v r «f ihe Colitinbliri
KcAJinit Unitm. 4IS Weit KUiy^mth SUrri, *%'e« York Cuy, »nd »Ul« ihe
boohiand subffCEt now id um lor <b« tomiog yeu,
Thfi Loyola K»(liti|r Cliib, of Moplrcil. » new irririB^og plant far co-
»[jr rati 1*0 work. jilJ wt; liupc iv ijrL. in tlit TLrar fulurrpaii accouut of iU)JTa|{-
rc<t fir pubbcation m ihik dvpannienf.
I
Atlhcop«nin£ niccitagi i^of-tt, ih* irVontfak KeAdlnjf Orclc met (n
ihp Hldtan Sir*r» Cnnvrnt, ^Hb** e ihr plmr nf wnrh (Of thP new icaioft wm
QMiEinvd^ whicb wiJI br ir na;iir>i rtqirtKr at m^jl lvai bri^UH lOUi *<an Ago^
when The dub WAi uri;4iii]>cd- Thr tfmtcjtjf F-dticAlmn will br ihi- Kpraal
hJtiQrifU fEudy, In ihctcda^t, v^en Ibe din of cdueaiionaF theonaLt ii lo
luud, eL wub kbuwn bow cl^fibU ii U ic dl»:criL ths rc4] »]);utfi(4ni.Y of the
pt>^liar<ij^iciiJ V4porin^^^ >nd vi^ii- - --. tidl 4II Ihi^ lO-fcllrd Torr it aol
tXL ufli:'^u->Uflci1 Imprftvnneni ^n iV - 1 iloncf timfv Tbl? study will
(gmpel a tw^^w and a cQmparMiT* appT««utE?h ol ihr ^rni c«nu»ci intd-
L«(Tnii(l af levity, IrAin thcoarlim aclurtfmtmu nf civiliiatinn in aur Dim iwcB-
tifCh cfnluTy- In ihr jtuFrly tUcr^fT i>f4€t l1ti« plan will cump*}, a% in the
prtfi4fdin|[ ;<*t», tevis*» oi **■■■' <jilLi[.EiLiit»,> uludy uf Ihe lollaw-
log vramen ot ShiliFiprare 1 pi- 1 4 r . 'n . KomllTid, OphdU, Ljdy UdC-
b«4h and <jijMn Kaibarine, In vi«* al Ibi lovnh ctnicnnlil of C^rvaam
^«nafaL ntrlci weH be matLc on iW Sf-ufab f r-^m ob rrfltf led fn ibe T/i/ Ud
in i» mdnncbulr counter part^i^ /In (^u^v/, Thf hooka rri^irwrel for
the fifH m^cTifiK were; c. iiy Rer, t:. StjcebAu; 7^r rtf/d^avr* Dr.
DrumtDon<l'i Ulnt; jf /'l^v / A>v/i. If? KuthnrinE T)n»n; fkhd thfl
MfOnd Dumber of 7Af CVvrMJI'- Thi« It a Oibolic mA^airlnc publiabcd •!
1905] The Columbian Reading Union. 3Z1
Oxford, bc&tinE on die hig^her edac*li«n tJi women- Several irticlF* in Kht
OclobCT mtgannei were mentioned \% of timely imerFsl^ Kptcioily [he ediv
toriil in the Meamger, "Vladivoitok," in Be&ktsver^, and "Meredith's
Heromei," in the CtHU. A gem of a poem by Rev. Lucinn Johnson, wrillen
for the Circle, wai read, [l wai pronounird as beautiful as the reality, «bose
Dameil bears: " An Autumn Leaf,"
The D"Ycuvi]le Circle is one of the very best now in the field, and has
earned dTStincdon in preparing aod giving for publication suggestive outlines
of *Drk, which may be followed by oihera at a distance, Tty this plan the
only eifeciive co-operation may be established between circles ii^idely sepa-
mted-
FoT this purpose chiefly the need of the Columbian Reading Union ;vas
prescnicd to ihc Editor of The CATHOLIC WORLD. In December, 1888, ap-
peared an unsigned cnm muni cat ion in tbia magazine slating briefly the out-
lines of a society for young women having a mature desire for ati advanced
course of Caiholic reading after graduation. It was suggested that the
social element might be eliminated, as the wotIc proposed could be accom-
plished by interchange of ideas at meetings and by correspondence among
kindred minds in diflprent places- This communication was written in Mil-
waukee, Wis,» by Miss Julie E. Fcrfcins. Furiber particulaTs regaiding her
valuable personal service in awakening latent forcps for the practical realiia-
tion of her plan may be found in the '* Tribute of Praise" published in THE
Cathi^UC World August, [894, shortly after her lamented death. She bad
very strong convictions that the Catholic ptople of high position in social life
were in many cases allowing the intellectual opportunities ol the prtstnt age
^0 be moriopolized hy shallow, self- constituted leaders. Her efforts 10 make
kncwn the enduring claims of Catholic authors deserve perpetual remem~
biance.
In order to establish a central bureau for Ihe guidance of the Catholic
■tiilLiig public, to foster the growth of Reading Circles, and to secure a per-
^>riFnt combination of forces for the diffusion of good literature, The
Catholic World, June, 1889, annauneed the formation of the Columbian
l^"diiig Union, which waa located at the house of the Paulist Fathers, 415
^*M Filly-ninth Street, New York City. . An appeal was made lor the volun-
'"y CD-operation of those having a knoib ledge of books, so that guidc^liats
i°i;ht be prepared at small cost for those seeking the information thus ren-
<^P[Fd ivailable. Catholic writers were especially invited to lake part in the
r^^* movements assistance was also expected from librarians and others
4<J>lfRed to make selections from the best books published. Many individu-
^'^ as well as those identiEied with Cathplic Reading Circles, gladly donated
^'Qill amounts of money, besides giving their time and energy lo make
■nown the ways and means oE extending the influence of Catholic literaluie,
'°d[o secure a place of deserved recognilion for Catholic aulhore in public
^i^riries. :
■ ■ ■
The Sule and the City Boards of Education have both officially recog-
Bi^d and approved the courses conducted by the Cathedral SCudy Cljh in
coajunciion with St. Angela's CollegOj pf New RochellCt N. Y.
2 84 The Columbian reading Union [Nov,
Tbe former is an organiiation u,' young women, mostly school-teacbtTB of
this city, who cndeavoi to cod. bine iattfllectual imp rove ment wilh social en-
joyment. They meet on the scr^and and fourth Thursdays of every month,
a-nd discuss important subicrt*-
Tbis Club ha? takec: ur.d<;i its auspices the extenEion courses o/ ihe Col-
lege of Si, Angela, wli'-V -. conducted by the Ursuline Nuns and chattered
by the Stale Regeno,
Any one who paa^Li the uKamizi^lions o[ the Club will not only be eligible
for State teachers' lic^-nie -. but xaa.; be admitted to eiamioitions for city
licenses, including aubalitulc leachers' licences No. j ; teachers' licenses for
promotions teacher of the graduating class; special branch teacher; asusl-
anl to principal ; principal and leac^c^rs in evening or vacation schools.
The course to be coL^ducted by the Cluh will be practically an enteision
course of the educational department of Si. Angela's College, It will be
under the direction of Ihc Rev. William B. Martin, of the Cathedral, the di-
rector of the Club, The co<irses bcfan on October 16.
The lectures will be given at the Cathedra] College three days every
week, from 4 to J P. M. A.II -ipplicants for admission to the courses should
apply at the Cathedral ^^ollege, Hidisnn Avenue and Fifty-first Street, be-
tween the hours of 4 and ^ f. M-
The faculty selected up to date is as follows :
Kducational Psycho) ofy^^The Rev. Francis Duffy, D.D., Professor of
P.ycholasyi St. Joseph"* Seminary, DuowDodie, Yonkers.
l.o^ic and Fthics,— The Rev. William B. Martin, S.T.L,,Si, Patrick's
Cftthcdr:»|, New York.
History nnd Principles 01 Education. — James M. Kieran, LL^D-^ PrO'
fciiur of I'Iducalion, Norn1.1l 'J^^tlege, New York.
Phyiii\Loi;ica| l*iychplo^y. -JaiMS J. Walsh, M.D,, Fordham University.
Mrthmla of Teachinj:, -l-:iuisc E. Tucker, A.M., Professor of Education,
St, AnjjHu'B Collf j:c.
Kn^h»h l.iUTAturi.',- Josf^ph Vincent Cro*'ne, A.M., Ph.D., Instructor
III Tn^li^h nl the College of the City of Ni-w York.
Cokiiket in German, Krench» and school management will also be given.
Thr institution is designed chiefly for Catholic teachers, hut women of
i*ihr» irrrd» will he welcome.
A LETTER TO THE EDITOR.
PuBLLC Library,
Seattle.
Editor Catholic World;
SoiQti mamhs ago, in reading your valuable and authoritative magarinfr,
my attCDtion was arrested by an article in tbe depariment of the Columbian
Reading Union eitplaiTiLng the valuable nork which that body has done i^nd
is doing in disseminating Catholic literature. Connected as 1 am v, iih one oE
the large and growing libraries of the country, the Seattle Public Library, the
article had for me a special interest, Afier reciting various works that had
been accomplished by the Union, it conliimed wiih the following sialemeni :
" Oui attention has been called to the defects of the American Lihraiy
Association Catalogue ot eight thousand volumes, piepared by the New York
Stale Library and ihe Library oi Congress, which is put forth as the standard
for all public libraries. It contains no work on Calhalic philosophy; under
theheadingol Catholic Church it has three titles; no mention wharpverof
any Iwok by John Boyle O'Reilly and other Catholic wriiers. The only jusii-
ficaiian that can be advanced for this eiclusion is that public lunds m^y not
be used to purchase sectarian literature, - The eminent writers, of
what may be regarded as standard literature for American readers, should
Dot b« boycotted on account of iheii race or cttt6, as that is plainly a§;ain5t
the Constitution of the United States, From this point of view alone it can
easily be proved that many hooks intended Jor the general reading public
have been placed on the prohibited list without sufficient cause, and with
very inadequate knowledge of their worth, simply because the wrileis were
known as Catholic S' Here is the oppoitL^nily lor Reading Circles to make
kno«n the claims of Catholic authors, and to use all legiUmale means to se-
cure for them equal justice,"
This, it seems to me, ia a very »*vere arraignment of ihe Board that pre-
pared the Ar L. A. Catalogue, and, if true, convicts them of ignorance of the
value of many ot the world's greatest literary productions ; if true, it convicts
them of prejudice, which is always agsocialed with ignorance ; if true, it con-
victs them of being narrow minded, a condition entirely incompatible bilh
thorough education and broad^ liberal culture ; if true, it seems to convict
them of violating the Constitution; if Ecue, these persons are unvorlhy lo
bold any public position. But before convicting them, it is prudent lo etam-
ine into the facta to see if the charges are mstained. Fortunately the A. L. A,
Catalogoe is found in neatly every commgnily, and so there need be oo diffi-
culty in substantiating the charges of Iht Columbian Reading Union if they
be true-
1 wish to state here and now that [ ^m not using your valuable space for
the purpose of defending the A' L- A- Catalogue or its compilers. The
Catalogue must aland upon its merits or be condemned by ils demerits, ^nd
its authors do not need, nor do they desire any defense or apology for their
work. In the preface to the work they admit that the Cacalogue is imperfect,
and all they ask is that the work be estimated at its true worth. Bui To the
charges.
Charge No. L ** 11 contains no work on Catholic philosophy." This
/* LeTTKft rO THE EDtTon.
[Nov..
cfa<irK« i« prvitn W be UAitvvbjrlbr (ad ihit «n page fSj ihe Cjtilogur Itsk
Mater * s /^O^Aififiixr. trlild it uliaL««dliri Mrork an CiLbolLc pbilutophy. I
only mcniLon the one work «■ thir * tnll^cjenc [a bmnd ihc rhaFer a^ lalse.
CtiArifv Ko- H. " Us-^t- m« i^fitdLci^ oE CatboZic Church il hd'* ibrcc
tillo-** On page 7? wc lidi] nndcf tiFidhi^ of " Roman Cfiiholtc Cbarch'**
1. CtfMWiV Oiniffnafy. W E, Addi» indTbomu Arn^Wi
\. John l-'tflAnil, CkKrt^ -xm-i M^dem Stifleiy.
4, rhwrHUfcOTiciniiJiii. //!/:-'> ^rt* CalAoHc Cfinmh in tAr United Srafft.
I^hdrv jiTc olk^r laLr* utter '-he uimc bfuJ, but Ehia la cevu^Ii tv ibuw
lliut t**^ ffhorjje li noi luppdU'rd &v tie tttc in (ht Cmaloffuc.
CUAri;C No, [11. "Na B^fU'on^if John Uoytc! O'kr-illy arid nihrr C«rho*
lie wHieri." Thii ii parii^Uf t>4«, in ihai no mf ntion a, Tii^ilr oE Jobn Bavl«
O'KDilt^i tiiil whrn [( uddt " *ht1 dlhf r rathcliir wrtlrrs," ihnl of coiir^ri in
tubjed i^ inorf ibno one can>iiuciio« 11 the critic bid aiid '* Cfrtatit otkff
^a/J^r^ tv/Mn/' ii *vit\d be t^rint- Bui 9h xtalcd Uy the cjilic JE may, I
bttllevc, bf UJriv comldered u> be *t varUni:^ «iih the Ucti> m 1 iball pravc
Then, tit ihtt baiti &I nitlf i.4bK aur crllk drAWt ilie «iif conclusion 1h«t
lliv eompiLiiTa nf i^r C4Ut«Kite pfOffde^ on ihe oMuinpilon ilioi public
fundi may nol be ii»ed iq pot:ttiv« K^Uriiiin litenturv, 15ui» iince I bive
shown tUkt tbe Cmalogue contmioi wciirmii wnrk«, irvtn ibai vtti* (?) con-
clviion i* ^'P*^ 1)^ be wiihout * fad t« Mpporr ir. IE more preof wrere pcedril,
every pubtic library in iht UlLlUd ^latCi rt a iefulali<iii vf the alalcmcDl.
rurthcf, " Tbe fmkntul «il|f <'. -ii witol may be frj^i'iLlrd hi alAadard
literature lor Amcrieiin rradet«H tb»> ^ nai br bfjjeoiird on dccouni of ihdr
rAC« or creed, at that la pTmmlT afafciai the ConhUiuHon of the Unjifd
Su<ei^<" TbhihE thM ttblcm^Mi »»anr, t bcHevc xhnt rvtry ^fid eirimn mil
'■ M^ny baokt Have been piaf
c»\>it ibcir uuvhoti vrerp knon
*rlw" have been boj'cottcd bi
diffitult to »bo» ihM Iheie tais^
jin the iJLhfit to whtcb 1 have r^
I fthAll nov give a partial ^
lUlllOft lilted in ilic A^ L. A- t
ra Ihe If ul)] ol Ihe r:h--\t^% Pi
Fathf- ffNlft'i lift.
Thoinai Aloy-int tEDijhTt.
iohn IrciamJ (Arcnbuhop],
. J-, Spatilin;^ llSi.hfp), i V
John La Ijugc, j Voii,
ChaiLci Lever, 7 Voln
John I.iiipu<l^ //tiftrjt -•/ iiH£'S^^
\t^: bnt lakiTig with vvhat fallovn, rif.,
I The pJohibileU libl . . . limply be-
W Ca^holici," 11 muii mean ihnf Catholic
.14 ol iheit cetfd or ra<e. Ji wt]l riol be
:^*teve u little Eruth to coimiifiid ihem
e4 C«i)lo1Ic worlit and w<trk« by Catholic
''711" to ibe reader miy jiidff for hlmuTf
mMin Uf-idinjc Union ctitie:
C/^vntA *}»itMs4irn S^cMy.
Edieed by J. t\ .X. O'Connor.
Xt /xtt/iifi /<'jv<U. Ai)Eabiofti|liT'
Mt<«vl Mahci. ftytA4tli>£j.
Cnrdinfll Xewmnn, d \tM.
ThDcnaiO'Cormani//iJ^^ ^-«f*« Gi/A^r CJwV'l nrM* Vnilt^SMfn,
KaibEnn O'Meam.
Btf nflrd O'ReiUy, Liff tf Tj^ XJIK
MiebaetV, O'^thoa. '
I
igos-J A Letter to the Editor. aft?
Philip Heaiy S^Eidan* Ptrs&mal &f4m0in,
Patrick AufusLinc Shechan, 2 Vo]«.
Addis And Arnold, CathoUc DicHonatyM -
Alrog, Univtrtai Church Jfis/Hty, 3 Vsls-
Micfaat) Angvlo.
Brother Aiari^s- •
Jean Bapii£te Caiat.
Dante,
Ozanaoi.
Htnry Didon. Introduction by Cudinal Gibbons.
Rev. Bernard O'Reilly.
Charles Gavan Duffy.
F. P. Dunne |" Dooley").
Rev. F- J^ Finn, That Football Game.
Abbd Constant Fouard,
F. A. CaiqucI, Tkt B-ut of the Rg/ormaiwit^
]. Cardinal Gibbons, 2 Vols.
Anthony GuggenbrrgerT Genirat History of the ChriUian Era{^txt Calho-
lic Colleges and Reading Circles),
Charltfa Wanen Sloddaid, 2 VoiIl
John Augustine Zahm, 2 Vols.
A Round Tablt 0/ the Rtpreaniativt American Catholic No^elisH^
A Round Table of the Representative Fr^mA Ca/Aolie NoveliiU-
A Round Table of the Representative German Catholic Novelists,
A Round Table of the Representative triik and English Catholic Novelhis,
Francii Marion Crawford, 10 Vols-
The above i& a partial and very imperfect li&l, which I nole as 1 tauTTiedly
(uiD the pages of the Catalogue, and it is possible ihat some of ihrae may not
be Citholic, but they are judged from memory. There aie a greal many
Cil^olif authors listed in the A. L, A. Catalogue thai I have not mentioned,
^ I regard the above list as sufEicient to demonstrate to ihe mind of any one,
ncepi the critic of the Columbian Reading Union, that his conlentiona have
fio toandation in fact.
Thai many Catholic authors have bee 'Ited no one vrill deny. That
mart worthy one? have beeo Dmilled, whi .'&£ worthy ones have found a
P^are, may also be true. That, however^ i^ matter of judgment. But ihe
■Q^iq truth, which L wish to emphas;re, is at with such a Max. as t have
»am«d, included in an eight thousand vol library, the compilfrs o! ihat
]>9lcaDnDi fairly be accused of having boyco J Catholic writers, nor of hav-'
ifif unwillingly or by design omitted the leadi , Catholic works from their li&i.
I regard it as most unfortunate that such a review or criticism should
baire found a place in your valuable mag^~-^ and have misled ihe thousands
of your readfffs who have a right to ex^ the atalcmenis therein to be au-
thariiative. It gives a false idea to theip, d does no one harm eicept our-
Sflves. ■
I have admired the work of the C^lu ibian Reading Union veiy much,
ind know that the value of iheir work cafinc t be Dverestimated— and, if 1 may
l>e permitted la make a suggestion, there is another line in which they may
he of service in dlsieminaiirLg proper liteialurc, and that is by ^vorkJng in
harmony with the librarians of the public libraries everywhere. The libra-
rian conceives it his hlghcit duly la induce and enable people to read ; to
plice in the hands of [he largest po&^ible number in his community [he books
which Ihe individuals desire; lo assist any 'ndividual in developing any chosen
388
A LEirElSTO THE EDITOR. [Nov., \\0%.]
Ime of Ihuiighl by ptuing ai tit* ^rvicc all ttiM bA» bven A'lHterL on tbai sub-
5i«> Kc conceive* It I6M bb ''■ir<'> re*<ifi ev«ty indMduiI in his coni>
nunUyp ind 14 Lli«i tod In ak«Ei Mf>pit> «ch wiTh ihiT which U ^f t]>«l. To
that 4nd ha vrtU tupply bv^ki tr* fbt bhniE, bnok^ lur ibc foiTiynci, ihc
Frenchmtn, \hc l%$Xi^T%^ lb* Cmriift , baokt for cycty one who will rciid.
H< KgjirdB hjl woik it m:j c^^BcalUot^ one* cqu^il lit imparltJice with tbal ?f
ihocbooili ind uaivoiltici. 4«ttKiiil:r iiorc Ut-reacbin£ in iL» TCJult«— »nce
4l r«4Ch» dot Ofi1y [b« ('r-j'tjcii «-f lh«ic iDilllti'fonv but also thnt vkhIt
sr«4Lar (kLimti^r Khecannai <>i wUJ e»4T ^vatt ibemicli'i:i ol the advaniaj^ft of
th0BC inHiiuiEDnt. \
Now, thii bt[nt^ Frufi, «4ll tflr iMor peraon iKticvc fhni Ihai »tEtie libm-
riiQ will lfl(«niionaily l^froic Uii M«(teei the litciHiy UBie» and dctifcs ol
Irom icn (o fcrty pef cenr df bi< iiiir wh^n ihai pei-centB£« 11 CAth»-
llf f Thr "Lith i\. (hai i>i^ w« . librarKfi urii:an*fn>u»Iy mitlif-t him
luoiiiJ >md libera] in hi* 14*1, &f>d 1 ;Jvv khf^wn «vi:n CnihoJicb who, by
vorkinj[i" librHttP«»h4v«; lotc ■ 1-irgf tfuif oi x\\«\t n^irrawnc^asaiiiJ pir}Lidico.
Naifi if the CaliLmbi'iifi RffBd|iiB Up-on will iiticinpE ci> work m hatmonr
4nU hympiLhy kvjib ibv libniLMAi. ibv> #^II rmd willing jnd rager belpt?it<
TlieK^iidinE L'nlon wilt rmd \hM ib« Hbrannnt wfn pl^ct In cvrry puUk
library in tfa^ Und ev^ry book ibit *1t1 be read. The dlff^culiy, bo«vvT<r,
which h,ii conficnitd mt li* *i| mdtaroi Id place in our Uhtaiy thr si^jid'
jTi3 dthnlk wnrbi, ia ch? IvncnlATiTe Uct«-Jtril it vfm^ ra bf ji ftci<-rhit
our }>cupi? do Tiol re«i), ^nJ «Uei- ihcv du. it \% not Cithouc wdtLb, It
BCCiDh (0 Ri? ibQl (lie CaiCi >bc piet> it lh a mciuurc dcrclic: in <>ne 0' tii
duilej :o our ppoj>lfl. A vL^t^na itrvcv oF each npw wofk. with a quotMi'oa
fr«m the »arae, ^on^ enoug^i ^o t«n««itie And iioiirr miertii in 11. to^eihcr
wUb ibv iiatitnt'iii thai Lhp vork maj bt futind m ihr public fihrarf ai»d
tbeiafotf T»d wirhouc coba. vMild, I Vc-icve. havr the ^rffcct of brtn^ing 10
thfi noT-icc o( the Cilhah^ rcsdtr Ibe b<»k» Thai bv ihould rcjid. And U th«
work be noL in i3ie library, r«l Mwrt< It vJll be placcil Ihcrdn if repealed
CiHi are mndr for ii-
]q mjin) pUcr*, bawcvvt, lb* CaiWJC poriLori ol the popuUtion have
not 44:rit%lumE:d ihi^uiicfyeA 10 iKi- ut^ •< ihc pubhc libNiry- They 0pp,->rr<ntly
momc rhm (he pubUc librnr; :i a. KWi-CnEhoHc inituuiion'— in jKiumpiton
wbi^U it not ia keetiing wiik tAc Artti* Where n public Library iit found
wUboui I he oritinary C^LCik'" '-" \\ iHli be loirnd on invFiu^MdoTi ih>i wv
Bie to blAjne b^caute no nnr <vd hJat^lf luHKicntly 10 iri^ueti Lhilibey
be purcbaKd* Wc mkibt nsi t«p«C aon'Caibohi^a to pl;itc ninnyCaiboHe
workt In llFkrarifitr Tbmt it .fiur ova bculnc^i, And wr khmil^^ nat iiod fault
wiib oihrrt !oi not JUirnding Co it.
If the Culumbi^in Reading Lai^* and i^thtp itiHurntiul Cflihn|[*-fl ktH
waric in i^mpathy iind horianriT *^'h the librarian; in l^c[t mprmvc com-
muniitet ihey wlli Arid leu pf«|iidici lb4n ihey beltevtd «]iL»lvd*^Aad the
fimoi poriLDti oi the eiitimg jtf*jDdic« wit! bq faunti m ihr mindi of Caiho^
lic4 thcm>clvei- They '^ilE IcMB^ loo* ibu the UbtJirmnii art more f -iitt' ibaa
Ihey to hare CaibolL<» (Omc to ibr ItVary and uic it, jtd will dn inxihtni; in
their p^wcr bo induce Ihcrn. '^ cd"". iftd wilt place therein any book for
vhlcb ih«r(K«h«vn lObe a tfenund J, H, Lvcurt.
I
I
I
I
THE
CATHOLIC WORLD,
Vol- Lxxxir.
DECEMBER, 1905-
No. 4S9W
A MODERN TENDENCY AND ITS CORRECTIVE.
»V JOSEPH MCSOIIUEV, C-Sf^
•E thz\\ hitd\y be written Sovn in history na a
rcHective race; our geuius is above all eUe
practical; Americans charade ristically lend to-
ward action rather than contemplation. To the
field of external activity the eyes of the ag«
Miv ivmzfi riQbt ofler ; and^ measured by ihe fitand>Jrits which
oovadayi obtain the whole world over, theorisU and dreamers
And idlcrt xtn\ meditative men seem all pretty much alike. To
be btt^x IB clie ideal— -to meet and in litrenuous combat to
overc^iinc the forces confronting the race in its progress to-
ward wealth And convenience and culture. External achieve-
vneni ia the goal of ambition — ±0 our little one» learn^ whether
%hnt Itno&s be taken frtim men ct from book*. The plaudit!
of the crowd are won by Hercules, not by Atlas:
'TU the transition stage, the tug and strain.
Tlut strike men; standing still is stupid like.
Wc know there mre peoples whojae geniu» lien in the order
of iboftghl, and phlloEOpyeH whkh connecrate a quiet Ideal;
C<vivfc>ki. i|B^ Till MitiJONAHT SDcritTT ow ^t. Pauj tuc AfaiibB
m Tin &TATtt Of NlH Y0B4-
M
290 -^ Modern Tendency AND ITS Corrective. [Dec,
but the races and the methods which, by right of conquest,
prevail in this modern world are ours; and history, as we read
It, seems to preach but the need of energy and to demonstrale
the supreme worth of action.
With rare exceptions^ the whole literature of mo<1eri] phi-
losophy ha» no good word for meditation a» a factor m humaa
development- In part this is the cause, and again it is Che
result of a reaction against a practice and tendency commonly
looked upon as mediaeval or Oriental. We are afraid of being
monastic, of becoming contemplatives. "When religious mys-
ticism was in flower, meditation held an important place
among the means of education; but as the age of mysticism
passed, the practice of meditation fell into disuse, and gradu-
ally came to be looked upon as a kind of mental idling.*'*
Some one has aflirmed that in old times the devoting of a
half-hour each day to meditation was part of the ordinary
routine of a Christian. It was then Che privilege of the. com-
mon man to appreciate and his custom to cultivate
That blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world
Is lightened.
We have changed all that; and most of us have forgotten
that there ever was such a time. Yet now, at last, the law-
makers of the psychological world begin to tell us we are go-
ing too far in our reaction, and Co warn us against cultivating
to a fatal extreme the ideal of unrestrained activity. Philis-
tine of the Philistines as he is, formed in the school of obser-
vation, steeped in the habit of experiment, and saturated with
the philosophy of action, an occasional teacher lifts his voice to
remind us of the neglected good and to recommend Chat hence-
forth meditation should be numbered among the approved means
for developing the finer (qualities of the spirit.
Such an attempt to control our tendency toward extrovert-
sion was to be expected. Who could long forget that the mere
observer must ever be confined within the narrow limiti ^
HCCle world which his senses can reach; that exdnsiv^
*LaMie^ia^i9iu: A^mHdiPiiiag^ii, Ol G- Caliuu. NEipDli: Piano,
1905>J ^ MODERH TENDE^'CV AifD fTS CORRECTiVE. t^l
¥l]] fijully deprive a man of all lar^cncis and breadth of view.
Ilii pMtibU to have U)o much "actuality/* Crilicsof AcnerU
c«n sj^holaT^hip find the wcaknesB oF our universities to lie in
the *'c*3cntiaHy practical purpose " which doroinates them.*
Kcvef to rise out oi the world ol reaUty \a\o the ideal sphere
dthouj^ht: always to be either doing or planning; (his must
entaU ihe fading of visions rrom shrines which have begun To
bum with the industry of man^ Even before "The Simple
Life" had become a street phrase with tis, we were made
pjinfiilly aware that depression and world •weariness and black
puiJmitm come from overwork with the same inevitable necee*
lily u from idling.
I
Why are we weighed upon with heaviness,
And utterly consimjed with nharp distress.
WhWe all things else have rest from wearine*s?
AU thins* have rest; why should we toil alone?
We only loU, who arc the first of things,
And make perpetual moan»
S;tU from one sorrow to another thrown;
Nor ever fold our wingfl
And cttJUR from wanderings;
Nor flCeep our brows in slumber's holy balm;
Nor hearken what the inner spirit sings;
'There is no joy but calm F '
Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things?
Then again we^ who are so skilful in fashioning and f^ii6-
'tt^Zt begin to lack the capacity to enjoy. The inarvelc^us -ind
the rare pive u> !«» satisfaction than ^our ancestors drew from
the iriJliftg and the commonplace; eUe were the lid of crimes
ihorler ami t\\v. iht^ckin^ new> of a ^suidde more infrequ«iit.
We have truly much g;luic to be thankful m the material pro-
treai of the world ; yet '%t the day irf the telephone ^nd the
lubway-expresa and the cxrra-edition also the reign of cynicism
and of ttcnoufln^s and of much Insanity.
Id what shall we find a corrective^ Possibly in growing
mole thoughtful^ rellcclive. contempUtiuc. And what better
EDcan* thall we employ to this end than the practice of mcdi-
I M«« Varh . |1«iifi1ii^n, >%it^tn A C'>. i^v^
Of lluffo llunilarlwfg. ni>iun
39^ A JfoDS^M TENDEXcy AFi,-n ITS Corrective. (Dec.,
titlon ? There Xi a Itmc lo speak ;ind a time to be silent;
Applea of gold upon bc^Js of silver arc the deeds of ^ thought'
£ul man.
For those wh<> can attempt ilj the expentnent is wofth try-
ing, even at sr>[ne cost, Ai has bccTi add above, te&chcrs arc
beginning to appreciaCe the function of methodka] reflectioQ,
aifiTt to rccommenc] its practice as a means of ^ri^ping iruih and
ol forming character It if a far streich from this Attitude to
the position »l the Catholic ascetic; yet, after alL the »a!nt and
the scientist are looking at different aspects of the »mc trulh-
BoCh lor ttie getieral educAtion of the iatellecc and for the de-
veloping of a deeper religious knokvledge and a fintr mor^I sense
in tVie Bciuln of the Christian people, it woufd be esEpedlejit to
ipread wide a reverence for this practice, elementary in the spiri-
tual dUcipllnc of the Church and fruitful of great results in the
school of Cithotic sanctity, but to{> httie known elsewhere. On
chit RCCOEint. it aeems tfrll here to consider what may be called
the psychological estimate of meditation, and to see just what
the practice may be expected to do in the education of a souh
A profession^] psychologist has published a booh* which
will sfltve to inform us on these points. To meditate, he sayt^
niean» to live In such intimacy with an idea, to unite our mind
so closely to it, as to embrace its whole? content, and to com-
prehend all its relations and connections- Meditation is a com-
plex ai^t hy which the mind, turning in upon itself, throws the
searchlight of cunaidflraCion upon its own notions and judg.
ments, and studies its own most lofty thoughts. To meditate
means to become recollected and to concentrate one's thought ;
to rctlect with pUicnce and intensity on faci^ full of significance
and of Interest; to look fi^i^kward and to look inward, so ^s to
bring the past and the preicnt into connecEion with the future
and ThiT internal into reUtlon with the eMternal ll implies that
we think with diftcrlminatirin Jtnd with vigor, that we apply our-
selves with freedom And with perfect calmnest, that we patient-
ly and persistently pursue our investigations. Meditation is in
part a kind of critical seTf- consciousness, a cross-examination, a
species of retrospection whkh is at the ^ame lime a forecast
and a preparation. It converts knowledge into convictioo. and
develops within the soul a power which is both purifying and
-I9O50 A MODSRH TEXDSNCV AUD its COJtRECTtVE. J93
Ubcndve. It U meditation whkh w« must Dft«n thank for our
abiUty to CL>nUo] exUav^gaitt acntiiueiit And to Alky imaiodcr-
<te excitements
Minute and p£.licnt analysis, followed by carcfu! 3.nd earn-
est attemptB at syulhcsis, gradually reCinc!; the meditative luind^
Step by step, the reason goes along the road marked out; inch
by incbi It delves deeper toward the ultimate causes of things;
iu Aim being to reach the point where, with a ^ixigle glance, it
can tnkc tn the whole groui^ of tclatton^^ and (acts that centre
b the object of thought, and thus acquire sure and final stand*
ardft of judgment. Gently and slowly, and thicugh laborious
meditation, rinalytintl knowlerlge is converted into synthetic and
bscoxes an iadlenable po^aeEsion of the mind. After having
undergone a gradual filtration and cUrilrcaiion, ideag diaclose
the single masler pijrjx'&E: which controls ^m] abapf^ them all;
Ukd ttben the good and th^ irue are at lA£t revealed^ they are
revealed iu one. It is through a process of this «ort thai the
[ruLt« of our thinking gain thnt maturity which conscious de-
liberation alone can give, and which render the life of the
thiokcr solid and consistent.
Nor i« this all. As Carlyle puts ir. a man is enabled
tluongb meditation to see into the very heart of things, and
ViKHVledge becomes the voice, the energy, the very inspiration
of hitt soul- Study can make us acquainted with tile elemenLe
of a science; but through meditation alone ihall we gain a full
appreciation of things and rise to the higher and philosophical
point of view. Can anything but meditation give us the taate
of ■ nationil culture or goage for us the peculiar character of
a bifttorical epoch f How otherwise than by meditation do men
acfiutte their noblest thoughts, their ftroicst convictions, iheir
mo9t gene»<Mi» faith, their trneat estimales of human knowledge
acid human power ? For meditation penetrates the hidden re-
Ciii(U of nature and the aoijI, gives to facts the cplcndor of
tratli and the glory of 4 moTnl meaning, settles .nil cLifcutd be-
tween the various fACLiltiei and moods of the spirit, rcndcrt hu-
man life cuiellith and social relations noblc^
t^uicE and patient as it in. this return ol the »pirit upi^n
itfelf for the purpose of re-lhinki^tf i\% thmightf. of forgetting
the subject in the object, helps not only to better our conduct,
hut to perfect our knowlodue, to make It falrtr and clearer
and steadier than before. It even aida our very power of ob'
A
A UOPERff TE^nEACy A.\'D /TS CORHECTrVE,
aervAtion bjr controllings correcting, and conBrming the frs};-
ni«ntary dau oi expericacc- As polishing will m^c a diamond
brighUri 30 patient and method icaJ meditaiian wtll render ideat
clearer and richer in sugg^Mion, Lilc« the sea. thought be-
comes more limpid as it deepens. Under the inilucnce of
iTiedttatJon, tha mind rise« to the sublime heights of the di-
vine, at the same lime that it reaches to the lowest depths of
the human; yet ii alu^ays retains its refation to nature and to
ordinary life, its ultimate aim being to dominate both the one
and the other by knowledge- Thought when nouriiihed by
meditation '\s Irke the tree which, in proportion as it growl
higher 4ind jpre^d^ its branches wider, in quest of air and light,
atrikies it:* rootE ever deeper and multiplies rncessantly the thou-
sand shoots which reach out in the surrounding earth to get
ore nourishment and to gain new resisting power agatnst the
eseure o( the winds abuve. From the point of view of the
subject, the mind is purifying and enlarging tiaelf: from the
point of view of the object, the truth is extending and niu^tL-
plying iu applications, b rcinforcirg and rclining \ii signifi-
oanee. Gradually by fneans of this orderly and assiducua labor
— an activity, by the wa}-, which is about as vigorous and as
personal as is possible — we more and more jdcalii^e the real;
and at the SJime time, without straining, we fire slowly prepar*
ing ourselves to realize the ideaL
When we meditate, we give a definite direction to the ap-
percciving functions. Hy ?io doing we are able to illuminate
the darkest problems, to clarify the most obscure questionJ,
to catch and hold last and ulilue tho^e subtile and l^eetii>g
suggestions which contribute toward the construction of n larger
knowledge. Our souls arc suddenly revealed to us; and the
buried seedi of great achievements in art, in ficlence, or bi
virtue are fertilised. It bns, ind<^ed, been rinintninfid by fioinc
thai the habit of meditating Icsti^ns the output of creative
energy; and to the superficial observer this might seern to be
the case, for the work of meditation ie more like sowing than
like reaping. Rut. in reality, it is a mistake to regard thought
and action at opposed. In fact, even though we should fail to
solve a prchlcm on which we meditate, we are not without re-
ward for the time and energy expended, tn these quiet hours
our mentality has been developed^ By dint of meditation the
mind has secretly and gradually grown keener ai^d stronger, a*
I
II
^905-] -A MODERX Tendency AND /rs Corrective. 29%
m\\ l>« evident when some da^ we shall show ourselves capa-
ble of afcomplUhlne* without An clTort, t^fiks which otherwise
TCGhould 5nd dlHJcult. if not imppsiaiblc- What gj'mnastlc^ do
lof ihc body, mrditatEon doEs for ih< spint. In riGElhcr case
la there any apparent result from d fingle exercise ^ yel, one
followtdg another, the 6eHea gFnerate& a latent fund of energy
«h>ch is of aiQaiing mjij;Tiiuidc, and which we might vainly
Kck to acquire by other means.
That tti«fe is tvo opposition between tneditaling en the one
hand, and working or ptodueing on The other, we have the wit-
ness of great writers and artists and men or actiorr, whose medi-
UlWe beut was very pronounced. Many namefi immediately
occur to ui, ai belonging to spirits of this order; and, in se-
keiin^ examples, our embarrassment would precccd not from
lack but from excess of candidates. Nol the meditative man,
but the man who carries inedttaliou and analysis ai^d intrO'
»peGtioa to a morbid extreme* deserves the reproach mistakenly
directed toward the process itself. An Amiel meditates much^
it it trotf, and waales his genius ae a ciitTisequpnce ; but h« is
not A normal type. In the soul which is sound and healthy,
meditation is not confined to the restricted field of the inteU
Icct, cor locked in the laboratory where ideas are corrected,
polbbed, malched, contrasted, grouped, and unified. The pro.
ecM goes further- Knowledge perfected by meditation, in$tead
of remaJnin^ in the region of ideas, overleaps these boundaries
sod invudefi thr world of aclion, A thought which has been
profoundly pondered is soon pascionately loved; next it mujt
b< isade to live; and though a man's 6rst concern in medi-
lAtion is that he may know things belter, this, in the nor-
mal mind, li closely related to another interest, namely^ that
be mav will better and work belter.
The preceding suggestions indicate very etcarly the tmpor-
unt facction of reelection in mental development- Coming as
Ibvy do from a source which ib strictly fe^ular and ^oientiJic,
rtbey laay »erve to point a lesson in spiritoahty which would
b« fat I«ia efTcetivc if it emanated from a piofessedly religious
Uacher* Men arc most apt to trust obviously disinterested
Teitimony. They should, therefore, be quick to draw from the
im pi i cation* of the psycholo^'ist upon the worth of meditation
condu^ions which will make this praclice Aeem a very proflta*
296 A MODEftN TENI^ENCY AND ITS ConRECTtVE. [Dec.,
ble form of spiritual exercise. A vital want in religion is the
deepening and perfecting of the soul's Appreciatiim of truth;
and, if medilalion be used properly, the want in i]ue5tion will
be welJ provided for.
Manifestly, the present writer i& nat now attempting a
dscion^t ration of Catholtcism: but, supposing Christianity true,
(t seems pUin that the practice ol meditation is very necessflry
in the life of the Christian. The truthg our religion teaches arc
so rich and deep and mysterious; the inspiration of its virtues
are so different (rum the prevalent motives ol conduct in the
multitudes with whom the beJiever if brought into daily con*
tact; its ideals are so sublime^ there is so great a dai:ger of
the aecidrntal and the superricial crowding in upon iinti rnar^
ring the beauty and the puHty of its faith; that tneditaiion
would seem to be literally indispensable (or the conservation
and growth of Ihe Christian spirit. Christian history — that is
to say, the careers of those who have been the greaf tignres
and the main influences in the story of the Christian religion
^-and Christian literature — that is to say, the writings which
contain the rules and the records ol holy living^go f^r to
show that the practice of meditation fulliU a most important
of!tce in the pursuit of the Christian Ideal, ft has been made
the subject of regulations and the matter of methods and the
topic of instructions, written and oral, since that pursuit began;
and it is of the same concern to the contemporary teacher of
spiirituality aa It was to the desert saints and the ancient
anchorites.
To know God well the soul mu« rise and go forth into the
life of action; yet, in some measure. i1 n\ust already know
sotsething of him before it is moved to desire him* Tumtmt
chinhttais pai, si tii nt m'avtis pai tranv/^s^y^ Pascal — "Thou
wouldst not be seeking me, hadst thou not already found me,"
In che secret communion of the soul with God the strength of
the martyr and the desire of the lover are made perfect. So ia
the ordinary tife of the C[iriat:an, 4|uiet contemplation of the
iflelfahle attractiveness of God precedes and prepares tor th<
hours of labor or of stilTcriiig which perfect the character and
fuUil the mi^iaion of the individual soul, In action and endur-
ance we lind only Ihe God to who5c service we have already
secretly pledged fidelity.
k
J
iga^i A MODERtW TSMDEyCY AA'D ITS CORHECTfVE. 2gj
'
There remains much lo be flaid &s to the helpful light
[brovn by psycbolcgy on the praciicc of meditation ; and a
particuJarly iiluminating view U thai of the distinguished French
vrilcr* who describes meditation ai the proceaa of thinking with
iHings fn*tcad of with words. Usually ihe actual image of reaU
JLv is to complex and ciiinbcTsonie that, for the sake of con-
tecienci;, w*r substitute in its pUce a mere word easily relaJned
ID our own minds and easily conveyed lo others. Now, U we
Wert always to u^e a word which si^rilied a tlung perfectly
'Juniliar to us through personal experience, the sfmboi might
indeed be trusted to ree&U the reality. But, unfortunately, we
Icim many words without having had any picviousacqu^nlance
vilti the thines which (hey represent, and we may never have
the time or the indiurition to fill the empty ^heU with its proper
conieDt. Hence even the mo»t intelligent of men are apt to go
on o»ing WHrdft. a& a parrot mifihi uae them, with little or no
ipprecuilion uf the realities which correspond to the signs
Meditating la lilltag cheae empty huftts with grain; It U re-
^lacin^ signs by images, and not by va^ue and indeterminate
images, but by images which arc as particular and concrete as
lh«y can possibly be rnadc. and which duplicate realty dowa
to the very least detail
Pefhapa no one will read the prci:c<Jing without at once ftv
calliag Ncwman'i distinction between apprehension which is
" aotlonal " and apprehension which h ^'real." This is in (act
the irery ^H>iiit to ho ko|)t in mind in ofdor to appreciate the
hmciioa of meditation, which Is to change notional apprehensions
ii>d avtenta into real Newman c&\h apprehension " real" when
wordi express things, but "notional" when they express
thoughts. Xow words can express things either bccaimc the
objects are within the range of our senses at the very moment
of our speech, or because they arc reflected in memory ax In ■
mirror- If I recall a past experience or a distant «ccne with
accuracy, t create nothing; I stc a picture of facts- "The
memory of a beautifijl air, or the scent of a particular flower,
as far as any remembrance remairks of it. is the conirnued prv«*
etKe In «ur minds of a likeness of it which its actual presence
4
I9S A MODERX TEXDE/^CY AND ITS COftliECTrVE. [Dec,
hu Icfr there, [ can bring before tnc the muAic of the ' A<lc*tc
Fi(ld»/ » if I were actually hearing it; and the scent of a
clemadsi as \i I were aeiually in my garden; and the f\h.wQT oi
di peach, as if il were tn icason ; and the thought J have of all
tbeae is as of sonLcthtQg Individual and from wiiboul, as much
as the things Ihemselves, Ihe tune, thfl scent^ snd the flavor
arc from wiihoul, though compared with the thing* themselves,
these imatfeft ^aa ihcy may be called) are faint and mtcEmittiiig/'*
To summon into consciousness imagta favor^Lble to our re-
flection ; to shut out all distracting thoughts and disturbing
emotions; to hoid ourselves by a united effort of all facuhie*
In the presence of cerlain great realities full of sigiiLJicance and
live with spiritual power; and resolutely to will both the pres-
ent excrcUe and the future activities for whi<h it \% the elfec-
tuttl fjrep&ruliuii— ibiis is lo convert the notional into the real,
or, in other word», to practice meditation- " PaEsages, which to
a bo J are hut rhetorical commonplaces) ndther better norwoffe
than a hundred uEherE. which any clever writer might Euppljr,
which he gels by heart and thinks very fine, and imitates, as
he think?) suci;e5sfuliy. in his own (Rowing vcrsilicationj at kngth
come home to him, when long years have |ja£sed, ik^ he hits had
CNpcrience of life, and pierce hini^ aa if he had never before
known them, with their sad eamcstneas and vivid exactness^
Then he comes to understand how It Is that Unes, the birth of
aomc chance morning or evcniijg at an Ionian festival, or among
the Sabine hilts, hive Ustcd generation after generation, for
thousands of years, with a power over the mind and a ehartn
which the current literature of the day, his own t^ay, with all
its obviAus advantagea, is utterly unable tn rival. . . . And
what the experience of the world elTeets for the illuslraticn of
the classical authors, that o^ce the religious sente, carefully
cultivated) tulfria toward Holy Scdptiirc, To rhe devout and
fpiritu^E, the divine word speaks of ihingf, not merely of no-
tions, . , . Hence the practice of meditation Oct the sacrod
text, io highly thought of by Catholics. Reading, a? we do,
the Gospels from our youth up, we are in danger of becoming
so familiar with them aa to be dead to their force, and to via w
them a« a mere history. The purpose, then, of meditation U to
rcalixG them; to make the facti which they relice ttand out
*Cftmm4f^Aiit%i. 1-1,1, Oi. III.
:
.More our minds u objects, such us tniAy be appropriated by
iftitb At living as lh< imagination whkh appiehends them,"*
But "a^seni, however strong and accorded to imsges how-
ever vivid, is no!, Ihercforfl. oflceMarily practical. Strictly
tp^ikintjp it h not iniagmation ihat causes ai:tion; but hope
and fear, likes and dislike*, appetite, passior, alTcction, the
ittrrings of 4eifishn«i and self-love. What imagination does
for u£ i£ to lind a nieans of biimutatiug^ thnae motive powers;
and it does so by providing a supply of objects strong enough
to stimulate them. The thought of honor, glory, duty, fiell-
l2grandJ2enie;it, gain, or, on the other hand, of divine good-
oesG, future reward, eternal life. per^everingJy dwelt upon, leads
us Along A course of action corresponding to ItseH, but only io
C4ft« there be that in our minds which is congenial to it-
HowGvef. when there i!^ ihat preparation, the thought does
lead Io the act."f And hence, in meditation, the mind ranges
over the whole Held of earth and heaven, of past, of present,
tod of fuiurcj seeking for thoughlB and words and facta and
pocBibUities which ihaii sway the feelings and aifcctions of the
banan hcirt and irresUtibly dictate a course of conduct in
harmony with the divine will.
MediiaiLon, rhen. consists in the search for, and the dispo-
lition of, motives of conduct, as well as tn the contemplation
ol ucth ; the former more than the latter, indeed, so long «
the )M>id i^ in ft 6iatc oF probation and concerned wrih ensur-
ing its own conformity to an ideal difficult cnough^aay, rather,
impossible — For any but the blessed in heaven to realize pcr-
feelty. Kven in th« cloift^^r of the contemplaltve th^a holds
tree; for it is in the contrast of labors, more than in freedom
ftom the necessity of laboring, that ihc Christian recluie dil!era
from his brethreti in the outer world. Jfut eminently is it true
of the mftn who infuRcs an elemeni of reDeotJon into a life
vticb. 1q large meaaurc, ii devoted to the satisfying of de-
mands for immediate external work. And so we mediiaie: to
dcCenninc our choice o( ft policy, or to decide our vocation in
life; to get illumination on clouded issues, when the road to
perfecLJou ib in doubl, or to ensure fidelity to what has long
btm reoognUed » our proper duty : to arouse and rcinfoico
our affections for the things we mucT love tf the call to
•/>trf, Ch,ltf. iM.*.
JOO A ^fOI}£R^' TES'DEXCy A?!D ITS CORf^ECTfVB. [D*<-.
holiness or the appca[ of duty la Co hold us; or. agatnt Co
awaken emotions of fear and avetijon for the evil bui Ecductir«
idols wliich tempt us from the woiship of the God of IsraeL
Wc heaf It said nfjw and again that to be sincerely fcligions
necessitates the playing of a personal and active pari, thai it
is not enough to be the passive recipient of dogmatic tfAchtag
or of sscramenial grace. And peiheps sometimes we have come
so near to the realiiation of thi» nccesAity as to wonder juit
wliai a pcnonal and active interest in religion would imply. It
certainly does not m^an menely attending at divine service,
or helping to t>iitM churches, or relieving misery, or read*
Ing*or yet wriiing- — pious books. What then? In truth, per-
eOQiil reiigion^and for the very reason that it is perw>nsl^
implies someihing far too intimate and secr^^t and sacred to be
put into forn^ulas or general directions. However, tt plataly
doei imply at least this, that we £haLl u&e our powerti of under-
■tandin|£ and feeling nnd wiliing, so as to enlarKc the share ol
God, but diminisli the share of self and the world, In our cod-
«g1ou« life. How best to do lhi> \i the problem of problems.
Bui whn can be blind to the fact that meditation will help nsuch
toward its solution,
The mbd should not be passive but active with regard to
truths which it bus received. It should turn them over and
over; it should grow familiar with their various aspects and de-
duce their consequence* and ^i\Mdy ihefr practical bearings. It
\% not enough that occasionally I should hear in a sermon or
read in a hook the sentiment of some one else as to the duiio
implied by following alter Christ or by one's faith in the
Holy Spirit as an Indwelling Divtnity in the ]uit solL The«c
lhin>;s ^ihould be worked out personally ; each should study then
over for himself; each mutt individually go through the pro-
cess of development which hits been gone through Utorioualy
and slowly by the general Christian consciousness in Ihc lapse
of centuries- Merely to learo conetnsion^ will not suihce; they
must become my conclusions. 1 must trace for myself the goq-
nectjcn between the life Chritt led and my daily duties. 1
must endeavor U> uj»kr tlic molivca for devoItdoeM and lore
which were revealed in him spring up in me. 1 must see for
myself, and must ga^e long and studiously xt tbe picivr
poverty and unselfishness and humiiity and patience n
1905-] -4 Modern tendency and its Corrective, 301
Ijne&s which he presented. The motives for contrition^ rcpcnt-
aace, amendment, gratitude, and affection must be held before
my mind by concentrated thought and voluntary attention;
they must be renewed by constant repetition. The moving
scenes of our Lord's life must grow familiar through constant-
ly revived contemplation. The deeper meaning and the inner
significance of the institutions Christ bequeathed must grow clear,
as alone they can, through reverent meditation and reflection.
God's attributes, and the teachings of the Church and Che ideals
enshrined in the lives of the saints, must be cultivated until
they yield up the precious spiritual fruit that nourishes and
makes strong the soul. Inspirations and trends of thought and
feeling, associations and suggestions that make for holiness, must
thus be multiplied. In a word, I must meditate. ReinvLgor"
ated by faithful realization in the sphere of action, or weakened
perhaps by surrender in the hour of temptation, this habit of
living by meditation amid thoughts of God and sacred things
will, at any rate, help me not a little in the saving and purify-
ing and perfecting of my soul.
LEGENDS 01- VALAIS.
fiv AGNr^s RErrMictt.
[WTTZERLAND it not a land of poeiry and ro-
mance. It H a iflnd which God has made sur-
passingly beautiful, and which man ha& m^dc
comdiiiftXAc And com m unplaced It is interlaced
with a network oJ lailways. It n filled with ad-
mirtbk hotels. It ii kept «wcpt and garnished for the utay
of tourUts who invade it every fummer, and wboee money fat-
tens thf lean purses of n thrifiy and lar-iicdng population, A
sense of propiiety and modcrtttion keeps the Swiss landlord
and the Sivl&s finaacier withm the litnics of tfood taMe. Tbcy
love rht^ir mountains, thc^r lalccs, thcif glaciers; they also re-^
spect th^m as sources rf rcvence — as the inexhaustible capital
of an otherwise impoven^hcd country. Accordingly, whOe th«y
make amooth the tourist's path* helping him over every step
cf the way they intend that he shall tread, they preserve to-
violate the austere beauty of his surroundings. They do itot
cut down their black woods, nor build factories on the thattt
of Lake Lcman, nor delite the fair face of nature with adv«riii>f*
Rients- It is not wholly their fault that Switzerland, for all ha
grace and grandeur, fails to nourish our emoiions as do France
and Italy and Spain. The great historrc background is tacking.
and lacking, loo, are those sombre landmarks and traditSont
which )tnk us forever with the paat> Only the ntcuntains of
Switzerland are old* The rest of it aeem.> newly fumisbed
every year for our reception, It is pathetic to tee tountla
garing at Calvin's chair in Geneva, or thronging to Cbillofi {a
dreadful little trolley car goe^ bumping to tts porialt), in learoh
of local Cdlor. We Bnd ihem even endeavoring to follow the
ro»t»tep» of Rousseau amid the dreary hotels and lodging houtea
of CUrens, The apirJt of pilgrimage ts inextingu»h;^le in the
human heart; but Switzerland is not a land for pilgrintiL
Vet if we have courage to quit the crAvcler*Hddcn roadi, if
I90i J
LEQSNDS O/-^ VAlAiS,
yic can make up our minds to for«go Lhe soft beds end clear
cofTe<? a^nd well-baked rolls, far which ^wi^t hotFlft have grown
so jusUy IflmoHs, wc may linri, even in this home of mod*Tnity.
Ihosc reoiotc and silent places which have never broken u-Jlh the
pisl — places which are not v*;ry comforlible^ but full of poetic
grdcc and charm. It, for example^ we ]c3.ve the lat vmcyards
and proaperoufi peasantry of Vaud, and climb into the austere,
snow-cncjtclcd pasture t^^nds of Valais, wc leave behind u£ dll
op|>res9ive dvilisatioti, and have in its pface That ^wr^el and
grave simplfciiy which haf ever been characteristic o\ a race
which herds its flacks in solitude- The Vaudois is rich, churl-
ish, and inhf>tpitable : awlcward in manner, and habitually un-
eirll ;Q speech. The Valaisan 19 courteous and kind : he greets
every slranger ae « rriend, and offers his ho£pitaHiy wilh a
fiimpte dignity which would not have shamed Abmh'-Lm, silling
in the shadow of his tent. Nature has taught him her lesson.
She has guarded for him her beauty, her sadne££, her deep si-
t«Qms. She has ^tvcn him racks and ravines and scanty pas-
turage instead of farm-tand and purple vin^'ards. She has kept
bitn poor, but she has nourished him wilh noble InHuences. He
ba^ the mental calm of one who holds unbroken the faith of
tiis forefathers. He has the self-respect of one who 9eek» rto
profit from his neighbor, He has the poetic instincts of one
who lives ^uateielyn and who is well u^ed to solitude and dan-
ger. The Valaisan is always near death. There is not a paas,
not a Bleep mountain side, unmarked by the wooden cross which
bears witness to a fatal accident. These crosses keep green the
memory of the dea,d. They also help X\\c living to b^ar in
mbd the paiaful lesson of mortality.
In an interesting and 9yinpai;hetic study of Alpine TegendSf
those venerable superstitionB which, like old ballads and old
Undn)Ark«, are aow the subjects of mielligent research^ I iind
a rreoch author tracing the traditions of the Valais peasantry
to three main nourcea ; a belief in a place of puriticalion for
the soul> of The dead; 8 belief in the mystic and dangerous
influence of the dance; and a belief in the holiness of hospi-
tality. In thc!8C three deeply rooted conviclioni wo trace senti-
ments older than Chrisiianiiy. The thronging ghosts of an
Atplne f^Ucier are sad and sin-laden, like the grim spectres of
the North' Dancing is for the Valaisan at once his keenest
delight^ his sale accomplishment^ and his one approach to
i
ZMC^JtfftS OF VALAtS,
[Dec.
Cfcn Lbc dead dance, mirthfesi and
ia Emvi^ cabicn cod abuidoAcd graveyards, Aa for
t&e jBcrct ^qr«C botpioUtr. x'hxx has been uught him by the
frf hii VNrroianduig^ Many of the tales he
of tbe beautiEuI old story of Baucis
ol T— rfc, IB tbe valley of the Vif-^e, wa« bur-
■■Jimrhr for lutviDg rerused food and shelter
ta % biifp'^ ^^ avMat vUfage of Sierre u-a& ^Uo destroyed
for ite lads of bo^itifity. It lies aunken beneath the waters
«i ahfcn tfat tt£ll bloc l-Ue of Gdrotide; and it is perhaps
£au that tbc inhabitanis of the modern
aaoog the friendly people of Valais
fos cbnic tinrtnni to MnoigTrs and to the poor. Even inn-
^■ilfaMm iDvaiir wBvd against the lamentable sins of avar
in mA ^ubMCiCj, Upon them, as upon all good Vaiaisans,
raatt k ^afey *» vajtfarent who arc not to be regarded as law-
W yrij (tte ina Irrrpnr'i customary point of view), but as
fo a vorid throj^h which we are all restlesdy
tlw lift ap^Qied end. Midway between Slerre
hart JMod lonfi ago an ifin, the master of which
gtw ncft by kaavish trkk&. Now hia house is in ruln^, and,
bMb llht — n^'"C **^^ ^^^ '^^ NavAt^nian which hurry by its
VMSMfoc nalli^ miiM the vottnd of perpetual lamentation. It
4l tfe iwi k«*fiar eo^MJiag his sin. and bewailing the severity
I 4n that wtcktd Jobs
Wbo WAtend his good red wine:
Aftd ny M«t b bijw in priEon,
l^tiitU Mp be (ivcn.
tM iMM w 4|IM *«<nM li^Ut the spirit of an unjmt
^ta^tattliV" '''^ ptndtttd th» richer land-owners of GTimeotE
^ MK«\*«<^ «kf«Ni llw acanty paat^rajEv or the poor. For two
^i^^tjl^jt >t«4kt« \k Um VttiMly striven to churn the waters into
^^H^^^ ^i^ tW y«4hHr foam which cufla forever around ihftj
^^^ to«V« «*tttVM 14 th« bi«p«1faaiMsia of his Usk.
|%« \1jMJWi U* «i Abiding pjiy for the -* Souls." Hi|<
^iM^ *^ ^ *'**'''*^ '^ '*^'* <^^( ^^ <^^r presence of the
JMI Mb ^H^ ^^ y>i«<pM»i«i ntber tbiA dismay. The %\^\
'905-1
LEGBS'DS of VALAiS.
30;
cier ol Atetscb hiiE aEw^ys been deemed a haunied £pot. Amid
ill elcrnal snows unhapp)' spirits expiate ihe sins and opprci-
jjons of their lives. Tradition wya that for many years a uro-
man d^vclt alone ia a rude cabin at the glacier'^ foot, praying
Always for ihc deud. AU flight long J)ci^ Jamp burned id bcr
wmdow. that wandering shades might ace its friendly Light
All night long her lire was replenished, that, throLigh the open
dour, the poor, cold, outcast spectres might throng to its cheer*
fill blaic. She heard thctn sighing softly round bcr hearth,
add prftyed devoutly until morning for their deliverance.
Wh«n &hc Wa& very old %he died, and ihe watchers by her
bed saw a Icng line of twinkling lights, carried hy unseen
band», trail slowly down the glacier's side, and surround the
httle but. No tound was breathed, but they knew ihal the
souls she had comlorted in prison, and bf^lped to their r^^leasc
were carrying her spirit over the icy fastnesses to the gAies
of boaven.
There ia something very beautiful about a tale lite this It
U Buperatition; but aupcrstillon digniJied by piety, and warmed
by the flame of love. These two elentetils, dignity and com-
puvion, arc seldom lacking in the legends of the Alpts VaJaii-
OHMfi which are neither triviaT like legertds of the South, nor
lavage like those of the Far Norths They are melancholy, and
samclimeii grotesque; but always softened by a sombre £race.
Un the feast of All Souls the procession of ghosts winds
through narrow defiles, and far up the heights; but those who
meet it h±ive but little fear The great cross carried at its
head gkams whitely in the moonlight* and* if the dead speak,
it it to repeat the solemn formula: "God is just," These are
the only words that an Atpinc spectre has ever been hraid to
utter. He pronounces them giavely as he gEidcs by the stHrtled
puianip who breathes a soft amen.
Vet it cannot be denied that the VaUisan is a devout be*
lifver in '"calla," So many signs and tokens are received at
dt4th' warrants, that one wonders he gets a chance 10 live at
all. Some of the warnings are of a pjcluresqucni^ss which
commends itself to ihc artistic, if not to the rcaEonablc mind,
A peasant of VJL-gc, being awakened by strange sounds outside
"i< house, arose, an<l began drawing on bis sluckings. The
sounds grow louder, his curiosity increased, and he stole to
the window, still holding one stocking tn his hand. By hia
VIM.1 LkXXll.— )0
306
U^CEiVDS OF I'ALAIS^
[D«.,
doof swept the procession of the dead. A fevrr had latelf
carried orT many of the inhabiianis of Vfcgc ; and, as ibe
watcher giied at the fpeciral ihrong, he recoK^niKd the faces
of frieiid^ and townspeople amiU its ranh^. Last of all came
the figure of a man walking slowly wiih averted hi^ad. This
gho«t had one leg bare, and cartkd a Mocking dangling in its
hand. When the peasant »aw it, he knew that bit time wa»
ncnr, itnd oScdii;«tly ini(d<: ready and died,
In 1S67 a dtiicn of d^crniall lay dai:geroualy ill. His inal<
ady took a favorable turn. Ttie doctor pronounced hJm out of
danger HU family folicitnted themselves on hie recovCTy, At
lHi« potnt. a loo outspoken friend entered ihe tick chamber.
''Do net let theni persuade you that you wilt gel well/' he
said TO the invalid, "The dealh-lights aie gleaming over your
pasture. They are almost at your door." It was enouffb^
The sick man knew bclttr than lo resist these words of dooro.
The death-ligbts had sjgnalled for him, and ihey never sig-
nalied in vain. He bade farewell to his acquieecenc relatives,
turned his face to the wall, and promptly and submissively
died.
As for the periE of the dance, which is dangerous to the
ValaJsan because he lovca It too well, there are innumerable
storLcs to illustrate the Ti$k he runit^ Even the law take« ccg-
nizanoe of thrs peHl, and seti< a atern limit to his paMime. No
public dance can be given in any township of Valais. without
permission of the dvic authoriiies^ and tuch permission must
be a^ked for Iwerity-four haui^ in .idvance. Thit ancieril &1m(-
lite, which \% still rigorously enforced, has been often evaded.
The young people of a village meeting by stealth in some re-
mote chalet; and lo ^uch [aw-brrakers is toM the story of the
peasant- woman of Wispcrrehnen. whose young, light- footed
daughter stole away at night to attend one of ihc^e forbidden
festivities. The mother, taking her infant in her arms, set
forth to search for the prodigal; and, far up the mouniain side,
heard the sound of merry music. Guided by the strains, she
made her way lo the housed but, before eniefl]:g, peered
through a crack in the door. There, mid the dancers, she
Apicd a little gra^t'green devil, with a long grass-green queue*
leaping and capering joyfully- Trembling with fear, she en-
tered, and cold what she had seen. There Wiu a rush Ir
door, a mad scramble to escape; and ifun the panic
loot)
'aS/i^DS OF VALAfS
revellers henril a mocking Uufih, and a voice that said; "The
Jul lo leave beiongs lo ine." At this, ihcy all pretsed harder
ttill for salety ; but thr giil, who uas young snd fifcblt, lotird
herself on the edge of the throng. Her companions paid no
hc«d to her, and, in her Eerfor, £hc cried &harf>]y: "1 shall be
iMt. 1 Bhall be last" Her mother beard, and turned back.
IWtli one strong irm she pnshed Ihe girl through the dosing
door, and itood alone in the darkncs?^hei baby lying on her
brea^t^ There was a moment'^ dreadful mIcjicc, and ihen (he
same voice §poke ugain, " I ha^-e no power/' it aatd, a» tbouj^h
in aiuner Co a question; and, at the word^, the door Awung
slowly open. The woman saw the stars shining in itie hravena,
snd. running iwiftly do^n the hill, took her repentaai daugh*
tef in her arms-
Thcrfi ]< no comer of Vaiai£ to which such legends do not
clings There is no hamlet which hn? not its own tale to tell,
Sometlmei, but not often, ihc stories are Gothic jn iheif ex-
trava£ance and grot esq uene^c;- They bear a pleasant resem-
blance to those mlashapen little mcn^ter^^ thosf^ gnnning de-
mons, those strange ravening beasts with which the riediarval
stonecutterE decorated the great cathedra U of Christ rrdcm.
Tbe most titriking of such half huinorni.is legends is that of
the pious Rihorre* who dweh on the sleep incline of d'Arpi-
tctta, which lies like an emerald between ihe Morning and
Durand glaciers, and is the hiehest pasture land in all Valaiu.
A b1amcles3> man, simple and devout, RiborrcE iWed «iih his
herds far above the turmoil of the wdrld. Every Sunday he
climbeil the Roc de La Vache, which overlooks the Vali^-r d'An-
aivieri, and asiistcd tn spirit at the Mass which was being
celebrated in the valley far bdow. But on feaat day£ he jour-
neyed down Efi Mnrssse, fo be shriven, to attend tbi? service,
to walk in the incvicable procession, and hear the news of the
country-iide^ tl pleased heaven to set a mark upon hJs sintesa
life by ii^ranting him an oft repeated miracle. Tor alway^i on
entering the church, he hung hi^ goat'Skin mantle on a sun-
beani lUnting athwart the wall; and there It staved — to the
edification of prie&t and p^n^h — until he left the holy edifice*
One day, howovcr, Iiioking up from bis roi^ary, he saw a little
devil, perched on the pulpit steps, who was writing down on
A scroll of pafchmcnt the names of all those who^e mlndf were
iTiJiidnlng frofii their prayers. Naturally the sight dtBtracted
joS
LECEXDS of VAI.A/S.
[Dee.,
poor Rtborrer — it was enough to disiraci anyone — and be for-
got his Ave Manas while he g&zed at ihc apparition. Afler
a while the parchment was ftiir of names, and. to make more
space, the devil Cook one end In his let^ih, and tried to stretch
Ihc scroll. But. as he was tugging his hardest, hit tcelh &ud-
deni)' lo»t their hold* and he lucnbled backward, striking hig
litde horned head against the putpit rail, At ihiB accident
Riborrei laughed aJoud. and, at he did £0, his mantle (ell
crashing from the aunbeam to the c^our, ]Je knelt, abashed
and humbled, a sinner like his kind.
This story has the true medixval flavor — the siniplidty. the
grolcaquencsS) the satire. It might have been carved in Ktone
on some «quHE piiUr. or in oak on ^ome fme old choLr-^iall.
It might have been part of a miracle play, and haw moved
to n^irth the motley crowd who dearly loved a je»l at the
devil's cxpeii^te. Il: elands alone amid the Lf/^icrttif^ Vatauannft,
which are for the most part melancholy. People who live
amid the ctemal snows have seldom merry mindi.
The drama has, however, been the favorite divenion of Ibe
VaUis peasant for at least four hundred yearn, Play« and pro-
csisions arc his twin delightSt and on many happy occatiou
he manages to combine the two. In 1619 the vllUge ol Sjuot
Maiirfce, *' pour df^fendre W pays contre les ravages de L'h^rdflie,"
made a solemn vow to give a representation of the martyrdom
of the Thundering Legion, In thoae hardy times a play laated
all day lonj{. Now the erght hours have shrunk to a beggarly
three; but the audience gathers so early to watch the decora-
tion of the out door stage, and the dressing of the charactQra,
that most of the day is constiitied between the pleasures ol
anticipatjon and reality, 1 saw the peasanU of Vissoie tn the
summer of 19115 give a representation of the well-known
i^gfmdit itAnnifitrs, which tells how the Huns, who had ovef-
run Valais, were converted to Christianity by a mirade vouch*
safed to a crippled captive named Zacheo. fCacheo was flung« .
ai an oHenng to the heathen ^ods, into a ^ianl crcvatse of the^
Durand gflacier; bui the torrent of the Navugan^a bore hin^
safely thiuj^h itjbtcrrancan passagcsn and ca»i him fonh at the^
Cool of the Bi?Eso — the sacred mountain or the Huns- Ttii
familiar ?T<>ry, acted with a simplicity which left w> room f
criticism, was received with cnthuiiastic delight When
curtain rn»iiiK on lUe Ust scene showed the beautiful tw*
wsO
LEG£/ifI/S OF VALAIS,
i<>9
Ol |h« Desso. and tEie converted Huns fell on tbcir knees bc>
fbrt th«! uplifted i!ros£» ihc church belb of Vi^soie rang vui n
jojroua peal, and the audknce, Hshg lo Ua fecr, sang the Tc
D«u[D in thanksgiving for the triumph of the Christian faith.
TTh^ey were ^s pleased about tl. as if It had happened yester-
day. " L* tbi^dlre en Vaiais," says an oid chronicler, "eat
V^KoX^ de vertus."
On this occasioTi, as on evtry other which *^flers an op-
p<:*rtunity, there was a proceision through the village streets
Ar-> ^ down the mouniain side. The ancJcxit Egyptian was not
o <:are wedded to the delights of a proceftsion than i^ the modern
V~.B(,laiaan. All seasons afford Chem excuse for this harm!c;s
^* ^^ttsiaa, which gAins dignity from the antiquity o\ the custom,
■f"* *i picturesqucnesa from Ihc extraordinary beauty of ihe sur-
'** »-»ndings. There is a procession in early summer (or the bless*
'** ^5 of *'k3 hisses" — the canals which irrigate the pastures.
^^~X«re are processions from township to township through the
* ^^li^e d'Anniviers ori Rogation days; and the villages ol Ayer
■*"* ^ Saint'Jean have, from time immemorial, furnished the food
~" — -IjTeadi cheese, and wine— which h eateu by the participants.
Tl^ere ii a procession on ih€ i6tb of August in honor of Si.
T J-».^odu3e, patron of vineyards i and a bunch of ripening grapcp,
t^^s ^ to a ctOiS, is carried at its head. Thete is a procession
11^ Jtine, when the citde are solemnlv blessed, before being »ent
t^ the high pasture lands where many dangers await them*
^ *:^ r three months they browse on (he steep inclines, and the
°* ■ lie i» made into the great cheeses upon which the sturdy
^'±^Ui«an lLve« and grows strong oi limb, In the Valfee d'Anni-
^* «^r* there ih one day appointed, on which all the milk Is set
^^-■^rediy aside for the "' Cure's chcesei; " These arc marked with
* «^halice, and are carried down to Vissoie In mid'Aug^^i *^d
P*l«d in the Aacrlsly of the Church. Thence they find their
" ^^ y to the scattered viilages, whose posters fare as hardly afl
*** ^jr rtoclt*- The fat, sleek cleric, forever dear tv the aatirisl,
"**» yet lo be encountered in Valais.
For a "plentiful poveiry" abides in cM? bleak land, and
"« h» itl her seal upon the mountaineers. The plainnefs of
"*^r |>aU drctfi, conUastin^ sharply with the rich^ gay cofcrumea
*» the V^udois; their low chalets — so picturesque a feature of the
■^ndicapc, b^t so emlncnity uncomfortable as homes ^ The bare
f
LSCE/^f^ OF VALAJS.
•implJclc/ ol theif daily lives; ihc absence <>f decoration cveiy-
whtrc ; alt leU oi poverty bravely endured, and &o common it
is scarcely deemed a hatd^blp- Beggars there are noncn It is
not the cu)>1oni oi the Swisa to beg. nnd Ihc Valaiaan would
take tfEiamc to ask ought of a stranger- Rather h he minded
to give; and I have had a peatant woman, fitting on the hlH-
lldc, oflTflr ntr a portion ol her brrad and cheese wilh charming
courleuy and kindneis. Once, watching a ptir of strolling
mudcians who were wearily ctjmbing the steep road to Zinal, X
wundorirc] what harve^it they couTd hope to glean; and why.
wEth the cold September night settling swifity down upon the
valley, ihcy had wandered lo far afield. My companion, an
Angl^c^ clerEyman and a true mountaineer, laughed at my
concern. "They arc all right." he said " Vou and I will give
th«m lome money, and — thib U not Vaud, but Valaia. There
la QOt a houite nor a hut by the roadside that will not take
them in."
It wu the fineftt comment on the situation. "He is rich/*
inya Sir Thomas Hrowne, "who hath enoLjgh to be charitable,
Atid it LI hard to be so poor that a noble mind may not find
it« way CO thU piece oE goodness."
"COME O'ER ANli HELP US."
aV VAitUAltET FLSTCHEK,
iMK ot our English newspapers devote a few coU
umns daily^durmg the sumtncr holiday season
— lo dbcEissiorts on domcfstic and family ethics.
Hy this dKCvice a Ltttlc (ermcnt of thought tS
raided ^moni; a cU»i& of people who seldom have
lime for rcftcclJon, Letters flow Jn which, il ihey are not
v^ry d<jscly reasoned and not very wise, have the value of
hmnan d{>CLjment«, The chosen topics have been growing
more serious, until this year we have had '* The Decay of
Doni*«iciiy" and "The Dwindling Birth-Rate." Much of the
c^rrcspoE) donee shews a restless and feverish intelligence, and
hut Mu^e vi^or and courage in the face of life. The whoie of
it witnesses to the marked decline ol definite religious belief,
RqIi^oii would ECem to be no longer reckoned with as a
restraining and coniroIliiLg power, With no comoioii ba^is and
no d«tiniCc goal, these discussions only serve to illustrale ihc
lirifting ideas of the majority. They do not make cheerful
Tbading. and. while foMowing them. Ehere has beext stealing up
from some dim recesses of my memory the relrain of a hymn
heard long ago^ a mission hymn sung to a grave, swinging]
tvne:
Through midnight gloom from Macedon,
The cry of myriAds as cf one;
The voiceful alienee of despair
la eloquent in awful prayer;
The *oul»' exceeding bitter cry :
"Come o'er and help un, or we die/'
How mournfully It echo» on —
l^or half the earth U Macedon!
UnconftciousLy the cry of half chc civilized earth goe» up
313
"•COM£ &EH AUD HELP US."
(I>«.
in witncfii to spiritual starv^lton. 1l goes ap to the Church
of Ctiriit, and C«thDlic« have the power to help. And yet we
are a vmall body and lik«1y to be a quiet and a passive ooc^
Ar« wc an etTectivc m wc mj^ht be 7 Do wo leave an ;n)pica»
upon society that \s in proportion to our nutubrrs ? Thvre
Acemn to be a growing feeling IhAt we do not; not because of
the la<k or a brtltiant few. but because of the abvcnce oE cer-
tain quaLilies in the rank and j^le of our laitv^ It ifi the aver-
age Catholic in the worM who first ploughs the furrow into
which the tnissionary can drop the seed.
1 venture to sue^jcst that we are apt Ic be luo timid and
too unpractical in bringing up young people. We cannot hope
to influence our limes il we do not underitand them. A
Catholic atmosphere is the priceless accompanJineat of a Chria*
lian education, Rut since, as a body, we stand to the modern
world very much as the carty Christians stood to p«][MT] Komc,
il we produce types of character which need a continuation of
this atmosphere for their mainlenance, wc fail A8 rdi;cAior«,
Under ibe present conditions siJch an atmosphere can only
be generated in a social set at the price of Ignorance of. or
jndillerenGe to. what ia going on oulaide. Should we not
father aim at generating the Catholic aimovpherr, which ibc
carLy Chrjstian^ carried within them and diffused into dark
places? Their's was the type of character that conquered pa*
ganism, and ihat without the help ttt what we undertiand to-
day Hi Catholic atmosphere. So many of the piotis 'book*
placed in the hands of the young strike a note of timidity
at the outaet, and dwell upon flight from the world and
thoughts of death- But the young have something to dc br-
lore they die; iliey h«ve to live, and if wc do not teach then
to live nobly, we are not tcachinf^ theoi to die well- We
teach them to fly from the '* world" as a spirit; do we teach
them as well to labor and serve in Che world, which is God'a
vineyard? If we *Ut enthusiasm in a young heart for pro-
moting CfariBt's Kingdom in the modern world, and mhtt ft
tuth in some practical social service which demands some
:rifice, wc have surely strengthened hitn In the hour of testp^
tation more effectually than by countieis warnings against the
attractions asd alluremcnis of iin.
And to be more definite: Are Catholic women in th«v
»W'I
" CO.'ifE O'ER AND HELP US^
i'3
tTie centres of influences they might be? Through the discus-
iLona I have been reading, one note persisted, iSist struck in
tdpn long ago, and quite audible lo^day; "The woman gave
iu« und 1 did eat." In sober earnest the majority o( writers
bid tkie whole burden of social ills upon the shoulderg <A wo-
man. That note would not have persisted a» it ha* unless it
tiprcMtd \ mefl^Ejfc of truth. The power of woman Is in-
<rBUfd. an<[ to-day we behold thai power run riot ^ little.
The ftpeetAcle of uncontrolled force, even tplniuBl force, is
ifl ugly one. To take the fiction of the lfl*t twenty years,
*lut ;in indictment could be brought against the women wril-
eno! Iwn continents for the ical with which they have wcrked
tn dc^Chmtiuiite society T Adruiltlng the solid progress that
hubecr: tnada iu woman'^ position, tbo fact remains, that those
»li<i hfcve led her forward have not been sure of their goal
They have trained her intellect and starved her splrltj while
tbcy dieamed of «ciine ideal age which the&e changed should
tuber in. An idealist woman will always be, and she is capa-
tip of following false phiiosophics with the self facrifrre of a
i*Jm and the mental vi^iion of rhe unbalanced- When her
Hal \% individualism and mat^riatism, wb find her heading
Mindly for tnoral destruction, And quite confident that the
■fivn lies over the hori^.on. She has drunk ^n the false fea>
>onmg which preached the practises whose fruit we call " racial
>iJicid«'*; and while she sins, she persiEadcE herself that she
•ca in |h€ interests of progress- And the stream of this pro-
|Ft«s is Ewollen and swept along by all the seltishne^s and
cvvirdice in human nature. She is no longer content lo fol-
low the tAite of in individual man, but she i^ tricked into
fallowing th« idfals of man at the cost of self-destruction.
Pot the truth is. when woman is In touch with God, her
'{■intualjiy \% a grcAl force and she is capable of leading mar-
"htn she IH not, man inevitably leads her. For, the fiirenglh
^'^ the spirit excepted, she rernnins in other ways the weakcr-
">ett t» a need for the presence in the midst of society, not
^l^n enact repetition of any previous type of woman, but of
*"new woman" who Ib new in Christ, Catholicism abne can
PMuce her. The Catholic Church alone ba» the ideal pattern
A°d the living grace which can breathe the true spiiit into ex*
Vending knowledge.
SU "Ct?-V£: 0'£Jf AND HELP VSJ" [Dec.
The edjcuion oE women of thU type impties the laying o£
■olid founctationft and mutt include son^c di^cuseions oi the
questions which agrtaie the outer world. No Catholic atmos-
phere we can arrange will exclude these questions ffcm the
tnmdc oE girls who have left $chijul. They aiv Jiid on our
breakfast tables with the newspaper — arc overheard in railway I
trains and tram cars; they filter through the novel An*1 maga-
zine into every bi^me in the land. And if they did not, we
mi^ht misi oar mcentive to work.
Vet with that cry from Macedon,
The very car oj Christ rolls on»
My voice is crying in iheir cry:
*' Help ye the dying lest you die-"'
1£ the introduction to false conceptions of life i} antict-
paied while a girl is ^ill under the influence oi her school, »hc
can be helped to discri ruinate between good and evil in subtle
forms, and to have her powers of thought and sense of respon-
aibilrty trained. Later she may have slipped frotn un^cr any
influence and may be lar from help. We Catholics need to
»cnd young women out into the world in love with knigbT-
crrantty, eager to ride abroid rediessing social ilU, longing to
atone for the untold evit women have wrought. H we give
Ihom this ticld for enthusiasni. they will not employ the storcd-
up energy of youth tu the excitement of coquetting with temp-
tation. Should not this awakening of sympathies be a part of
education in the later years of school life?
Bishop Spalding says: "But true religion is life and thought
and love and ceaseless striving for derpei insight and more
unsclhsh conduct. If we were more alive in mind, tn heart.
and in conscience, we should be able to do almost incredible
things to bring the Kingdom of God to multitudes who wan-
der bewildered and lost because therE is no One to throw about
them the light which Christ came to kindle. Not the priest
alone ts his jninlstcr; we are all his servants and the servant*
of all for whom he died, if we are not recreant and false."
Wc must endeavor to foster a wider tiprit dt t^ps among
alt Catholic wom^nj and an enthuelaGm for using every mcaub
of intellectual advance, thai Ihey may be belter fined to infiu-
I
I
I
»90S-I
COMfE 0'£fe ASD Help Us.
315
MCiG Others. I am much struck by^ some of the assodaiions
lAd gnUde that are springing up in non-CaiholIc but Chri^iian
CJltlcf in Ejkgland, They fieem wcLE aimed agdmst some of Ihe
Ud tondenciefi oE the times.
One Kxi particular I will describe, for a Catholic guild on
limilar ]ii;e& migbt have a far-reachtng influence. It is calUd
Ik *' Guild of Good Service," is under the patronage oJ the
Anglican Bishop of London, and U connected with the maga-
iltifl diled Th€ Girls' Aen/r/i. Young women and girls, who
havi; more money than they actually need for Iheir own wants,
iut>9cribe regularly to a fund, which Is employed in helping
gifU of the profet^onal and upper cU«»es, whose parenU arc
poor, to some training wbicb fhall fit them (or a start in life*
U K in fact, applying the spirit of charity, whicb has long been
ilirccted to orphAn^ and children of the poorest eUsses> to iho^e
cf the class upon whicb social conditions piefis v«iy hardly at
prncnr.
The idea ib not to supplement school fees, but to help a girl
t3 lomc technical training when aUe leaver school whtcb will
M her to earn a tiving. Those who have remsTkablf artJMie
fiiftt are enabled to develop Ebem^ The cases of applicants for
gnnu Are oarr-fuUy considered by a committee who recommend
them 10 Ihv voters, AH subscribers have a vote. The names
0' tppCicants appear only under initiab. both on the voting
pipers and in the published li^t of the successful. The use
wWb recipients of grants make of their opporxuniii?^ and their
■^itr succefftct continues to be chronicled in the magazine. In
thii way the interests of rich and leisured girb are enlarged.
Ihty ifcr helped to acquire imaginaiivc sympathies with lives less
'^'cvnate than their own, and to take a pride and pLeasurc in
th« ^fis of others,
tfpon the Catholic middle class the social pressure falls the
■8a« heavily of all. According to the teaching of our faith,
^^<'' Catholic parent mubt not shrink from the bearing of many
lildren. An income that will efliciently educate three will not
*dacaTcnSne; and the children of these classes are of ten obliged
*> bufy their UlenlB and peihaps to sink into a condition below
^^c «ae into which they were born. In the case of girls this
«Kt oJ thing* often involves temptations, the thoughi ol which
"i^^i make the heart of the parent ache-
Now (he Catholic body needs educated women, and the bc*t
InteUccEual ciacerUl h usually found in iZic class which is com-
pelled by circum&IancDB to use mental faculties al full presaure.
If the effort to help other<j entails a Hrtle economy and con-
trivance on the p^rt of those exempt iiom labor, what a boon
for them, since the worst feature uf iheir lot is often the ab-
sence of any stimulus lo cxeTtion. Why should we (toi ha%'c
such a Catholic g^Jld? Or if not this, can we not inaut;vraie
one that will tend to awaken new philanthropic zeal in wot^ien*
effective Sccau^e directed to the needs of the day and calcuUld
to cultivate the qualities of character most needed as a eorrec-
tive to prevailing weaknesses. When we Catholic women real-
ize our corporate strength and. standing shoulder to shoulder,
aire prepared to share one another'^ burdens to a fuller extent,
ure shall be bringing help to Macedon,
I
I
Wake heart and will to hear their cry;
" Help us to help them, lest we die,"
L
STUDIES ON !-Kll:URiCH NIETZSCHE.
BV U. i>. PliTHE
r
A LIFE MIUTANT,
[HE title of this fir^t essay may aurprise thoae
uho are used 10 regard Nietzsche as the ^poa-
xle al iitcadtnct, of cgobm. oi nuii-rnQtuihta,
of AntJ-CKriatianity, And yf% since we wnuld
naturally wish to strike the Iceynole oi x man't
iLfe 4I14J tliaittcur in one's t^rst words about him, 1 cnu think
of him only, in this place, as, ahavE all elsv> a tighter. We
un sum up hi> pbtloaophy uoder the title of one of his poai-
bmuous works, &r;d »ay that it all <leatE Anally with TJit WiJl
t bt Stren£ : ond wr cax\ sum up hie life, in like manner,
under a single heading* and %xy that It wa.%y throughoui, an
ittcttion of sltet^gthp a prolonged effort al the mastery of self
AiLd (he conquest of everything cUe. That ihU fighting ia«
siioa was often moat tnistakcnJy employed need not kwcn our
bitief to the pluck and detcrminalion of the fighteri we can
admit the toufage of th* soldier, though we rnuy not iilwayi
lympatbi^e with hi^ Cfluie-
H^T would i% I Ihhik, be poitfiible to spend a cerlain time
in firr-mmded study of thr works and life of Nietzsche with-
out drawing ihcfefrom. not only admiration (or his genius, but
*li*o kindn«fls if not pergonal love, for the character therein
diijiUyed^ If a fireai spiritual -minded philosopher, like Pro-
;*t85or Kudoir Kucken* of Jena, can speak with affectionate sym-
'f^thy of his many great qaalities, and with tender indulgence
^1 his intellectual eita^gcTationa and mistahes, wb loo may
to find in the works and life-story of this tragic figure
^ntething to learn and something to admire, as well a& &ume-
^hing to criticiB* and condemn. It wag a life, horn fir<i to
i. of purity, integrity, ntlcr unworlcLlincss, and detachment
all low interests, It wai a strenuous life, a auffciJng
ftA unsel(i»h lifc^ fVcs; though he wa& the philosopher of
*|Oi(ta 1) It was a life devoid of eoinmon pleasiires and de«
I
Sl«
STVDIES Off FK/ePfi/C// .VlETZSCffE.
[Dec..
P
y^ted to An I4m] ; it w*») in the ttue«t sense of the word.
Ihou^^h uol from religious motivef. an asc^tka! life. His one
l,f^^f fAU^I W4». ifidoiTcl, IhAt which is recogDized aa the htsel-
tlniS sl»ng<' of tUc aicetic— li« w»s proud. Wc find this pride,
lei^cicr mud «mbr^'Onic, In bU younger day?, and the gr^in of
i^^^t^rd »rd hu Kfoun to a mighty tree in his later ytara.
Ar«<A wUh pride c«ine. as a»«]. Its own chaMisement — blind-
^0^» and UmUatBOAs.
'X'b* V\%\i\ of that briniaat mind was extinguished before
w^ vrorld at huxc had come lo recognixe its existence. His
■_.^0r«it la thi> life was cxtiniftiished before he became a name,
the lip« of those vbo k&ew him not, as well as of those
^^ koaar tiiou Bat, by a not unaccountable Nemesis, ihj& in-
^^^|«Clual aristoatt has been lifted on the shoulders of the
v«'y ^<^*^ ^^ despised- Along with more dlstingulsfaed and
ppfocuiive rcc^gnilton he who, m principle and condiTCt. was
-Uli.ckcadtnc, has become the archprietl of the decadents.
u^ wbo thoitght a man's prtde was hie strength, has beeo
aOo(^^ by the weak; the anti-feminlfit has become a favorite
»lBOi>J(^t women; he who baaslcd (and with Iruth) that he was
1^ iritjdntain climber, " Berg-steiger"; he who lived with his
0Wlh 7«iathciii±lTa an the heijjhlfi ; he who fought the worM
^J his enemies and his friends, but whc fought himself more
than all* has been venerated and invoked as the patron saint
(if those whUj consistently and deLib«iatety, fcilcw [be line of
least resiMftnce; who con^ne themselves, as it has been said,
"to the sonny side of the garden"; who teach that whaie vex
is fuuieal is best.
J'oor Nietischcl he went through much self-conquest to be
upheld as the teacher of scli-indulgcnce; he did hard things
to become the supposed advocate of easy ones- Nor is the
reason si> very far to seek, if we consider his deeds along witb
his philosophy. In those things wherein he had to overcotDC
himiolf, he was strint^ent in hi« injunctions to others lo do like-
wiiei but there were whole tracts of life in which he had no
^K perional experience of temptation or wrong-doing, and in such
^^ matters his principle o* self-assertion was easily transfoimed
E Into a ducitinc of lelf indulgence and license. He bad toover-
^B come himself in the endurance of sickness and pam and de-
^H picssion. and he hai tau>;h| us noble lessons upon this sub-
^H ject: but* on the other hand, he had an instinctive loathing
I
»505]
Studies on Friedrxcn Nietzsche^
V^
for cMrscness of every kind, he was neither sensual nor crue^
ud yet he has made himadf the apologUt of the human beafct
ol prey, the *' Kijub-Threr," and ha£ mistaken lust and brutality
for lire nph. To the fkk trtAD. v^ho hsd noi known the up-
hetval of &[iiinaT passion, nof fdt the struggle between the
Uw of sin and the hw of iile, the Lincon trolled in&lincti^ oE a
bvbtroutt nfttur< may have appeared to be high manifestations
<A fvrc«: anyhow his writings have, in placeE, more ih&n juati-
fitd thJii auppoitition.
And y<?t th« man who wrotfl, in 1888, the following words-
"Tbe «rcak ftod unsucc^isful shall perish, this \% the first prfn^
dpie of our love of mankind, and we will evtn help them to
ptfiih/'* wrote to his ffiend, von Gertdotfl. in iSyo, after his
Iwjpltftl «rvice by the battlefieM: "For 4 long while the
^lil of the wounded was never out of my ears."
And he who wrote, in i8;fj : "To niri, in ftll one dots, at one^i
9^n grtaSer ge0d, that tE better than those miserable emotions
Ud utiont for the flake of another," t ^*-y^ ^I^o to the Sfime
ciend : "We mUFt livc^ nol Tor ourseTvts, but for other?,'*
Tte apoEtle of anti-pity lost his health in the service of
the wounded ^ the antl^fentiniM w-aa the chivalrous friend oF
*eviral women, and a devotc'd brother to hie one sister ; the
pr^icher of egoHm and fcif-aE^ertlon was patient in sickre^s;,
uateilSth in bis daily life.
Not but that, even in his writings aa well as his actions.
at Ciinnot find< to a great extent, their own corrective. Some,
indeed, of the Uteai works, arc so marked by excels and ex-
>{^erfttion, thai the sounder and <^1ronger elements are hardly
H'^ifptible. But we must always remember that theae were
till {^t wofka, and that the shadow was aireadr overhangLtig
■he mind it was eventually to darken. In the wurka o( ihc
oi^dle period^ on the other hand, if we take them as a whole;
iJ «e »iudy them as the works of Nietzsche, which are a kind
<^f bner autobiography, ought to be studied, in the light of
^ii life and character; if wc d]s[inguish (he part which is more
^\t\\y hit own, and neglect the mere aphoHfttic smartnesses,
^itich arc lets original ; then, however strongly we may disagree
*Hh much of hih dokitrine. wc shall be Jess disjjiiscd [o pio.
'^Qnee him, at tome have don?, an unqualified decade til, or to
^trd hicQ as the intcUeciual offspring of an etTete and tired age.
320 Studies on friedrich Nietzsche. [Dec,
n he was an egoist, [t was of the strong, self-reliant kiiidt
[n contrast to its parasitical form. It was not the egoism of
one who lives upon othersj it was an assertion of the rights
of the self within, not of the cUims of the self without- It
was made up of self exerlion, self- restraint, self-reliance. There
is no labor fio strenuous as that of self- formation, nor is there
any activity so exhausting as that which is inner and personal.
But this is just the one labor which, in a busy world, Is mos^
carefully avoided; and, as Nietzsche says: "We give away ou^
hearts to the state, to commerce, to society, to science, ancL
we give them away hurriedly, just In order not to possess
them ourselves/' *
But this part of his lesson has been overlooked, and ht
has been made to teach self-assertion at the expense of other:
only, not self-assertion at the cost of the lower and lazy sell
In the same way, his doctrine of mercilessness cannot b
rightly separated from his doctrine of the '* will to be strong ""
he is pleading in favor of the pitied also, when he deprecate
that which he regards as an enervating treatment. To pit ^
any one was, in his eyes, to exhibit one's own strength at ^ '^ ^
expense of the sufferer.
But Nietzsche was a philosophical thinker, and not strict! — ^ 7
a philosopher, with any attempt at a rounded and complett
system. His sister gives us to understand that such a coi
plete system was in process of formation, but, as it cannot
said to lie before us, it is the more easy to gather contradii
tory impressions from his writings. Vet not for this need
believe with some, that his development consisted of a serji
of spasmodic changes with their corresponding periods. Thei
was, 1 believe, more consistency and continuity than might
first be supposed and, in the biography, his sister has given
actual proof of this on the point of his relation to Schopei
hauer, by furnishing us with a private note of 1&67, contai:
ing a criticism of that philosopher, in which we see that, eve
in the period of his most ardent diacipleship, he kept his bca^
above water, and gauged the weakness as well as the strength
of his admired master.
Friedrich Nietzsche was born October 15, 1844, **
in Germany- It is curious to know that thit •
Chrht had a father who was a clergyman, tf
* SthopenhauiT ah Bmithtr,
I905-]
STVOIES O.V FRIEDFICIf ^fSTZSCHE.
3^"
liketvl&e dcrgymen. undc^ and gre;it-iiiidc£ aUo dcrgymen.
He said, In iJSi;, {fi a moment^ perhaps. o[ lor^ttfulnts^:
"One recogniics th* sons of Protestant p*&tors and sdiocJ*'
muicrs by th« naUc ^surancc with which, &s aavanl£, they
conaider their point to be proved . ih«y Arr thoroughly
used 10 bdng bdlcvcd." * Fcrhnpa the latter-day Assurance cf
our phitoiophcr may have been a mark of atavism oji ihU poinl-
He w^ educated amidst the moat pious Christian surround-
hgt, and ^eems to have entirely responded to thtsc early \t\~
floencci. He lost his lather when he was baidy five ye»ri
old, and always regretted the lack of this inanLy intttience over
bis first formation. A brother also died ivike young, and his
mother «nd sifter, with two aunts, constituted bis family dr-
ile. They mi^rnied to Xaumbiirg after the death of his falh«r,
and in this town he received his ftrst edticatioti and schoohng,
amidat sample, homcty, IcvJng people; hi^ lifCi and that of h;^
younp ai«tor, beln^ varied by occi&ional visits lu their grand-
parents. Ht£ sister, who stllJ lives and devotes herself lu the
editing of her brother's published and unpublished work*, givea
U9 4 hAppy pkcure cjf their home hfe, truly Germ.in In its
chcerftilnejia and domesticity, and Germans have surely proved
IhcmMlvcs the truest friends and guides of childhood. In
\%l% he went to the great pubtJc school of Tforta, and rC'
mained llKre tilt L8&4. AtLhough his friend, ProfeMor Deue-
ivo, telU of their mutuaJ fervor in receiving confirmation u
tdin« time during this period, it was nevertheU«« djEln^' hift
iife It Pforta that the pimple faith uf his childhood paaaed
aw«y, never to return.
We find tbc year i86j marked by an event which mritbt
hftve passed without notice in the lives of many sludents^ The
•vent WAS tl^at Nieitache got drunk— (he lir&t and the Iftflt
tJnae — and the first and the last exhibition of scnsualiiy in this
p^D^jd) aelf^rcAtrAlned life, lie probably never [oii;;ot it and
wrtPtK Jit once to hi:* moilicr to confess the terrible disgrace.
The »«me Professor Deussen relates a curious adventure of
W Friend in regard to another dass of teniptJitionHf He waa
Oie» b«ing conducted by a cicerone through the chief places
*l inicrcvt in some t<iwn aitd the man brought bim, in the
<liiddk of the day, to a re»t4ur»nt of evil f«me^ Nietzsche
BDn&d himself surrounded by a most unwonted company. In
■ t-f^M** Wut^itt<i/t. ^IJ-. 54«.
vou tXXUfl.-^Si
STl/DFSS ON FMISDI^ICH NlSTZSCfte.
tD«^,
Uf first laonMt of bewildermtrLt and dismny be b«took MiBh
■olf, not to prsfer, but to a piuio which stood ic tbe roi
" Ihe only thing in (he coinpany possessed of a «ottl/' Hai
Htruck a few chords he rtgbiiicd hJK prttcnw of mind and es-
caped.
Mutic u-a^ a keen delight {rom early yeire, and tn elricefit
in bis philosophy. He posic^sed a quhe unusual gift for im-
provlBAtion, and we Khali ncc how one of the greAi frlcrdshipt
of bU iife wu Founded on musical sympathy.
la 1S65 be went to the University of Leipzig) wh«rc h<
tiv«dN fir«l as sttirLcnt. afkrwards as teacher, lilJ 1^69 — irilh,
howei-er, an interruption, in i£6;, for military serticc- lU
entered wUb |;r?Jkt «cdl ^nd energy into the soIdicr'Carcvr, and
*i;emi to have done wdl, until h was ruddr inteiropted by m
bad Acddeni, fol|o\«<d by a consequent it3n<iiL
Nietzschv had dcvoied himfeU specially to philology aod
Ibe Greclc clatsics, accompanying these Mtidiet with a ^ood
deal oJ philosophical rcadbg and thoui^ht^ h wai duriof: tl»a<
y«arj thai he became acquainted with thcwritii^g* of Schopen-
hAiicr, which were lo him [he bibTe cf hrs new ic]i|^ioj|- TnC
of hit greatest iricndships, that with Professor Erwin Rohdc"
and ihat with Fretherr von Gendorf!, are partly founded oa
comm^m sympathy with the philosophy t>f Schopenhnuer
in i«or;, to the universal a^onishment, ihis yourg man d
twtiityWour years wa» appointed ?roie«»or cf Philology at the
University of Basle: a distinction he h^d gained chieHy by
hia early philologicRl c^ssay^.
This year was still more memorable for another event, one
of the most trnponant in his lifej his tiret meeiinj: with Rvchard
Wa|{n<r, leading to the subsc^inGul friandahip with him un^
biit wife, ft was Waj^ner, and Wagner's mutic, that placed a
Urfic part in lh« productiona of this bi» fine, aad. uo ini(h<
al«o say, hia artistic and lotnaclic period. Belueen 1870 kc4
1^76 were produced 7Ar Birth <»/ Traitdy and the four Tn*-
iius Onf a/ Dtte Timt { UiuUgtMtUst Bttraeidhit^tn). "P"
Aral and LaiE of iheiv worku had direct reference to tbe|>er^>
of Wagfntr.
Theaiofyof thi> frtcndahip is tragic, passing asitd<
tbo ncord of audi tendur alTcciion a« can exiat betwae^
and nuit«r« through a staffe of coo^nos, into its fin:
1905-]
STVm^S ox FfCfE/tfilCH NiET£SCHS,
m
poailive antagonism. Nielzsche w^5 peihaps one of those to
whoRl ihfi p^in of broken friendship is so intense (ha.t tt can
oqIjt he faced in a mood of violence. That, even during their
freatcsl Intimacy, tbcrc were occafiional clouds, which gave fore-
warning i>f the fuluft ^orm, his sistc^r has shown im in the biog-
upb/- It is certain that neither lo the dead nor to the living
did Niciz&che ever profess that kind of allegiance which would
LOterfere wllh entire intdlectufll iiicTependcnce.
And when we watch the progress of his intinnacy with the
jreat musician, ae also of that with Erwin Rohde. the friend of
bis youth, and hi^ one-lime afUr r^a, we aalt ourselves SFtdly if
snch mtist Tio( incviiably be Ihe faic of loo many frifnri^hips be-
tween great men of independent mind- An ordinary workaday
intimAcy may not demand perfect unioo of tboujfht ami flim,
bui when we come to the friendships of thinkers, whose thougbl
it their UIc, wc know thai divergence in maiter^ of Uronjj con-
viction cannot coexist with r«al love and union. In Jfufttait,
tea Ifaim^n^ he writes: "We can promise actions, but not feel*
ing*. for fhe*c latter arc involuntary- He who promises any
one to love him always, to hate him always, or to be always
faithful, promises somerhing which is not in hts power; he can
only promise those actions which are the ordinary conscquencrs
of love, or hatred, or constancy/'*
It U this convEGEion of the incvitabiencss of change and in-
constancy in atTection which underliei the sadnesj of some of
cur modern noveli^iB^Thoma^ Ifardy in particutarn Love, they
lell us, ift jusi one of the things which cannot be commandedj
il comefi as and when it will, and it goes in like mtinncr, and
the more rich and complex the nature, the less fitted it i» for
in enduring patsion or affection.
We will not so easily abandon Our hopes and bid adieu to
the ideal of Uating friendship. It may be that, if tome hearts
Ke faithful only hccauie they are yhalEow.and it the deeper nature
il lea^ ratily cunst^mt, perh^pF the deepest love of til will
mofe nearly approach the tirat and »LmpIe>:t typea, and will be both
valiijhteiied and enduring. Stitl it is uselen to deny that, in
the course of a varied and independent life, certain intimacies
•ill have to be sacrifiocd, if grcatct thirn^s arc not to be aban-
loned in their placen Even though a certain slumbering affec*
lioa ^^y remain, lia exerciie and manifestation will have to he
STUDTES on I''/t/£l}JtrC/f NJETZSCifS.
limited* if not <ITacc<1, Ix is not olTered up to the genius of
mutibility. but to the dctiiands of the pergonal cailbg, of thai
tAflk wliieh «Ach one has been born to fulfil.
NicU^che took up the position of son and disciple towards
Wagner, but thlt position became jnlenabtc, m so far as he saw
and f«lt things independently of the master. It is undoubted
thjit be often endcivored to blind hitnsdf to the defects and
linalUtionA of hi» idoL H'n sister rflates one Httle ineidcnl. in
which her brother confessed with pain and shame that '* Wag-
ner WA9 not (E^eAt on that occasion \ "
Hut wiiful blindness is a very curable disease. The op«i-
ni^nded and eleAr-»ij^hled must love in all openness and cnndor,
or not al alL. And Nieti&chc was just the man to take up,
with the ume intcn»ll/ and complctenefs, the taak c£ breaking
off a friend»hi)> at that of nacrificiny cvcrythipg to its perfection,
Ui« whole iife t<»li6et to bis resoluiton that hpad should cot
Ua vnilavvd by h&trt, nor eonviction by feeling. Indeed, we
m^f aay that Nieusohe. the anti-iDorallat, often Japsed into ihe
»Mir«maa of aiceticittA, of which one Afst pfineiple i^ never to
let oiieieU ro, never to lote hold of head or heart- This was. in
NUlitche, the ''ffill to be strong/' showing itself iti the con-
Ijuvit of feeling and affection.
He aaya in t?6$: "I think 1 know, better than any, the
Unu* achiBVemeots of which Wagner is capable . . , and,
lUflh ai I am, with lores nuHicicDt to turn what is most quev<
tlonable and dingeroua to advantage and to become stronger
therefrom, I name Wagner Che great bctiefacior of my life."*
Thla wu to hioi the test ol every wholesome experience:
" Could he Hurmount it or not ? " Fricnda and enemies, thonghta
and Uchn^s, joy and sorrow, health and pain, at! had to be
tnrmounUd and were surmounted. Nletische wiis, undoubtedly,
moit conBcionn of the pain \\c himseff underwent in The process
of ilothroning his idol from Che middle of hi* heart, and so
convinced that the deed, which deniAnded such courage and
afTorC, miiit be an heroic dcc^d, that he forgot a little thai there
wa« a accord heart to be considered likewise, and that he was
exercUlnt- hJh "will to be strong" at the cost of another as
veil aa him»eir
He writ**, in 1879, to his friend Rohde; ''The usual per-
lonal conjcquence of each of my books hus been that a friend
I
I905-]
Studies oy FftiSDi^icff S'^/et^.scne.
3»5
wat wounded ^nd abandoned me." (December 2%. Currn-
f^iuiaree. Vol, ![,}
P«rhips they thought he cired nothing for their desertion;
he rcftJty cared 50 much t|iat. in the control of his own pained
Msoepttbilit)', he overlooked thdr fctUngs nltogcthcr. Dors he
aot retnind us somewhat of those Christian ascetics who ncrc
»o abftocbed in the conL^itest 0/ their own passiona That they
forgot to notice if ihcy had left a few hearts sirewvi on the tri-
umphal path of their own victory / Seif-posBesBion, self'Ccntro)^
are the noblest duttts of man and* m eo f«r cs we ^re isolated
entities, tile)- cannot be carried too far; but we must distini^uiah
those matters in which our live* are entangled with those of
Oiherb, and not ofTct huinan ^icrificcs, even though our own
blood be Diingled with that oi the victini-
We shall see NictKsche, Utcr on. dignified, self- controlled,
triumphant, in sicknc^ and tnontai depression, and then our
whole sympithy can go out to the stricken man, who makes
>ueh a nobk %ht with adverse circumstances; but whcfi he is
dealing with the hearts of bif friends, our admiration is oecei-
aarily i^uaUfitd, For the sake of hi£ own intellectual life and
independence he was bound tr> master the influence which Wag-
ner had excrdied over him; 10 possess his own soul, even
while Acknowlcdifini,' the bcne6ts with which he h^d been en-
riched by this other great mind. In hts beautiful treatise,
Wk^Htr in Bayt/ufh* as he telU us later on, he at onee fuJ-
filled hia debt of gratitude and accomplished the work of his
etwa emaftCipation- It i^ just by the full expression of our (eel-
tagt tbat we learn where those feelings end; and it was by all
that Wajtner had been to him that Nietzsche discovered where
Winner alno mded. In so far as he simpty worked for his
own efsential freedom, he wa^ right, and some sort of estrange-
nieal may have been ineviuble; but the violence with which,
it one time, he worked out his own EibctaLti^n, is almo&t com-
pilable to the deed of the man who pushes his friend ofF the
pliale on which there is only room for one. Wagner was too
strong to be drowned, but one fears that, even had he been a
veaker man. Niclrsehc might not, for this, have acted with any
more genticncifl and conaideration.
fa 1869 WAA the commencement of this close friendship, which
vai 10 cod ta such a tragic manner; in vh'jo came an oppor-
316 SruvtKS OA FJtJEDXICH NtETZSUiS. [Sec,
lunity foj Ihe gftfat manifesUtiofi of devotinn to Ms coumry,
atioihr^r sErong uttai^htnent. which was^ later* 10 bp di^solv^d in
bltiernc&a. If Nieuscbe ha^ deeply woujtded the paEilotic fccU
inga of his countrymen, lei th?m not fotget that tL« origin of
his fauJ disease m«y probably be trftced to ihr severe ilJnc**
he contracted whUe nursing the wounded in the war o{ 1870,
He would have fought, if he could: not being judged physical-
ly fit for it. he fulfilled the haider laik of caring for those who
cotild. His iricnd Rohdc, whom he tri^d to tempt to the same
course, aiid, rather aadly Afierwarils, that the material had been
tou precious and costly lor the use to which \i wns applied*
Bm Niciische did not stop to think 0/ this. He, who was to
h^ap dcHsion on acniimcntal pity and devotion to the weak*
forgot all the ambitions of his lif« to staunch wounds and be«r
wfth the eric4 and complatnta of the tick.
This is the last external event of much importance in th^
\\i* of Nietzsche, if we except the re&ignatlDn of his profefsor-
ahip in i5i;j7. From the year 1870, IhcrefiirCj wc need onJy
follow the progress of his mental devclopmem and of his bodily
sickness and decay, until the catattiophe uf iSI^^^
In iS?^ he startled hta friends by the 5r9t pub}icatioii of
what has been classed as his second period, vh,, I/uman, n^
Hnmafif which waa followed by a second part, and by 7i4v
Waitd<r*r fittd his Shadow. This period was largely influenced
b/ Darwinism* and it is evident that the scientific temper,
and the love of clear, dispassionate knowledge. Is asserting it-
self against the artistic and mystii^al tendencies of h'%s yotint^er
days. He is "surmounting'* the impressionability of the Ar-
tist temperament; is freeing himself from the fascinations of
the romantic school; and is stripping off any rcniaining^ veBtigrs
of religioui conviction.
Now we should not fail to note that this transformation b
taking place in Nietzsche at the v«ry time whrn, subjectively,
he might have been moai dj^po^ed towards any kind of nrdhe-
tic solace. It is not when a man is sick and auHcring that
he will usually turn from music and art to sober, unadorned
science. And that Nietzsche did so, not from impulse, b1.1t froi&
that instinct of icU-':onque*t which was always so predominant.
Ia evident from hifi whole life, and from what he himactf tclU us.
For the fpiritual'iuinded sickness has a terror to which
coarser natures are not exposed; the bodily pain and difcom-
I905J STi/DlS^ QA f^BOMICH A'/£r£SCi/£, 38?
fori are Itcilc in comparison wlih thai overcloud! ni; of the
hif^lwr pcrctpiiuns, (hat lii^loriion of th? nicntal visiott, Ihal
Kidhf of ihe vpiHlufil paUle wbicb Rtc a result of the phyiica)
>Ute- Ac tach timet it nccdE ah aIaiohi hflfi^ic clTort to main*
rain the intJepcndcnct of Ihe soul, lo save the objcctiviiy of
menial apprehensions from the inllcicncc of mctcly subjective
and pathDlogkal conditions. Nletiache felt this danger, and
nobly did he f^ice Jr. He knew thai, if his work vas 1o po«-
ftOS) objective value, hif mind must get the belter of a dJEe&ftd
body. Add so he teJU u*, in bis preface lo ihe second pail of
//aoitfir, Uo /fuman. th&t, even though it be A sufTcrcr who
speaks to us in the bDt>k, he speaks as though he were not a
•uffercr: "EIn Leidendcr hat auf Peuimifnm* noch Iccin Recht";
•*» *uffoj<r," he eayf/'hasno right lo be a peiaimiai." There*
fore, he cuIlivAtc^ "Optimism as a means of recovery, Ihat he
might again be Hghlly pesfimistJC-'
Whatever may he our opinion as lo ihe philosophy which
he evolvct! from this self- conquest, wo can h«r<My withhold d
cry of admiration at this lonely, godle» man* who i$ to re-
»oU»d thai his pef&onal pains shall not Afl'vct the ck&rne» of
hi* outlook and utterances, who waiird till his ivill had oblaired
full maiiery before once more taking up his lifC'taik, hia Au/f^a^y
\i tiicfa a line of conduct were to be mure frequently adopted,
whit deep ijlence would prevail in many quarters where now
there 1* much doIic of words ! How often ihe utterances, how-
Cfcr eloquent, of the man-haterr the woman-hater, the world-
hater, Ihe ereed-haler, the society- haicr, Are, in rralify. not
vorda and opinions it all, but merely aniculaled groans* the
expression of personal pain, anger, disappoint mem, sick nets,
JkOt ol any objeclivc ccnvictiijn whatnuever,
We are Christians, and he was an atheist, but let as listen and
Iciriii none ibe leas. Until he felt that there w^a somelhinc to
Um stronger than bis privaie sutTering, he tr^si^d hfmself
ftcitber to form nor to ultcr an opinionn He aIwaj-s believed
ia pain aa a >i<ces«ary ingredient in a life devoted to truth, but
bis faith was in pain conquered, ctnd not in pafn trinniphnnt.
Hi knew, aa vc all inAy krtnw, th^t. thou)-h the waters mi^ht in-
Stably cover him for a time, while there is life and perception
an all, there is the posHibflily of liflir^ the head above the waves.
ll is only lo<» true that ihere came a time, later en, when
Vtctacbe no longer lutCDQunted bia subjective impresiions, but.
3U
Stvw£s on fhiedrjch Nietzsche.
(Dec,
I
i
I
limited, !f not elTAced. It is nnt o^ctikI up to lh« g«aius of
mutability, but to the demands of the pcrsonat caUillg, M that
taiiiL: which eAch one Has been born io fulfil.
Niet£*cfie took tip the po«ilioa of »cn and divdple toward*
W*i^rieT, but this position bec;ime ui^tenible, in so fnr ak he »aw
ftml frit things independently of the master. It 1» undoubted
that he often ende;ivcired to blind himself lo the defects and
limEuiEons of his idol His iistef relates otic little incident^ in
whicb her brother ODnfcssed with puin and shame that "Wag*
ncr vi» not frcal on thai occjisLon! "
But wilful blindjiesfi is a very curable diseaae. Tho open-
mmdcd and clear-sightcd must love in dUopennc^K and cnndor.
or liot )4t all. And Niet«che was just the man to take up,
with the same intensity and completeness,, the task of breaking
olT a friendKhip as that of sac^rtficin); everything to il& perfectton.
HJH whole life testifies to bis resolution that head should not
be eniUved by heart, nor conviction by feeling. Indeed, we
may aay that Njeu^che. the anti-moraliEt, often lapsed into Iho
exircmeA of asciiifism. of whifh one first principle is never to
let oneself go, never to lose hold of head ot hcAri, This waa. ia
NJettsche, the "will to be strong," showing Itself in the con*
queEt of feeling and a^ection. A
He says in i»&5 : " I think I know, better than any, the "
huge Achievements of which Wagner is capable > . < and,
such AS 1 am, with lorce sufTicient to turn what la mobt qDes*!
tionable and dangerous to advantage and to become stronger
therefrom. I name WAgner the gteat benefactor o( xci^ life,"* _
This was to him the test of every wholesome experience rf
" Could he surmount it or not? " Friends and etiemiesi, thouj^hta
and feelings, joy and sorrow, health and pain« all had to be
ti§rm9itHUd and were surmounted- Nietasche wu, undoubtedly,
mott conscious of the patu he himself underwrnE in the pr«>ceSi*
of dethroning his idol from the middle of bis heart. «nd so
convinced that the deed, which demanded such couragc_ and
effort, oiuHt be an heroic deed, that he furg^^t a little that there
was a second heart to be considered likewii^e, and that he waa
exercising his "will to be strong'' at the coit of acoiher as
wril as hJniiclf,
He writer, in 1S79. to hta friend Kobde; "The usual per*
conal Goniequence of each of my books has been that a friend'
I905-]
STUVJES OJV FRIEDRiCH NlETJSSCHE.
wa* wouml«r| nnA abandoned me.'* (December jB. Corrts-
f^ttdtftit. Vol. W.)
Perliapft they thought he cared noFhing for Iheir desertion;
he rcQlly car«d so moch t|iet. in the control of his own pained
suftcepcibility. he overlooked their fcelin^-s aUogctber. Dors he
col remind Ui somewhat of those Christian ascetics who wefc
so absorbed in the conquest of their own passions that they
fwgot to notice if they had \tlx a few hearts strewn oti the tri-
umphAl pith of Iheir own vLctory i Self-possession, sclf-conirol,
are Ibe noblest dutJee of nran und. in so fur us w? arc Isolated
entities, they cannot be carried too f^r; bui we must dbiinguish
those matters in which cur lives are entangled with thoEe of
others, nnd not ofier human sacrifices, t^ven ihoLigU our own
blood be fULngled with that of the vlctini-
Wo >hatl we NieUschcn later on, dignified, self- con trolled,
trjumpbanr, in sickness and mental depressjon, and then out
tthok aynpathy can go out to the stricken man» who makes
ijch a noble light with adverse circumstances; but when he is
■Jealini: with the hearts of hiii friends', our admtiatloji is ncccfi-
wrily qualified^ For the sake of hit own intrllcctual life and
independence he waa bound to master the influence which Waff*
ner had exercised over him : to possess his own soul, even
while acknowledging the bene^ts with which he had been en-
Hched by this other great mind. In his hcaurifi.il treatise,
li'a^H4r lit Bayrtui/t.' as he lells us later on, he at once ful-
filled his debt of £:raiLlude and accomplished the work of his
own emancipation, tl i? ju^t by the foil expression of our fccl-
tzigs that we leam where those feelings end; and it was by all
th«t WAgncr had been to him that Nielischc discovered where
\Vagncr also ended, tn so far as he dimply worked for his
Own essential freedom, he waA right, and some scut of f^trange-
bicnt may have been inevitable; but the violence with which,
at OTie time, he worked out his own liberation, is almost com-
pafA^Ie to (he deed ol the man who pushes his friend ofl the
plank on which there is only room for one. Wagner was too
*tfon]{ to be drowned, but one feat^t (hat, even bad he been a
ureaker man, Nieuschc might not, for this, have acted with any
more gcntlcncvs and coni^idcralion.
In 1S69 W4* the commencement of tliis clo^c fiicndihip, which
was to end in such a tragic manner; in 1870 came an oppor-
Studies ox F/r/sr^Jt/a/ Njztzschs,
Ho «•» lli« o&e vriicf of good Gertnan, the one philosopher
of hi« &K*, lh« Supcr-min, th< Teacher so great ihat nobody
would vadcniAiid him- FHrnd ft^er frlpnd, dropped auray, only
(MM Df two nouJatd, lOKcehcr with the mother and sister
wluun ttotUftg could alienate- Now and agaiu he realiie^ his
Qllor Uttl^lloo, OBd tiUers a cry of agony: "1 AOi loncly^ — 5f>
lflQ»i)r T " fiat the Militudt has becnme now like an armos-
■ phvn afouimI him, cimging and thick and impenetrable- In
f iSLf^ i,\«Ufte» the finftl ora&h. lie is found m the strrcta of
Tlirilh iv * belptci* JLnd unconsciuus contiilioci. After a sfaorl
UoM Itt Ji Sviatorium at Ba^lc his mother look him ut^dcr her
04T« until her own d^rtih, ^n tSl*;, wh^n his sister succeeded to
\\^ «birt|«, removing him to Weimar, where he lived amidt't
(b« arct^vt* of hU own works, all unconscious □[ the activhy
ttrouud him. lovingly tended by the one lo whom he wa& evcra
wiM. over ftiiilt^esa, ^nd who has nia.de it her life-work to pre«(
AMVc and eauMieh »1[ that he had done or but partly done.
la i^ite oi hiK p±£t cynical utterances, he did 6nd one who
could know all, who could see inio the depths of his nature,
and who could yet be constant and loving to the end.
It Apeak« not a Utile for ihc lovahlene^e of h\s ch&racter
thnt not eleven yvars of a. living demh could in any way
ohlJteraic the impression of whsit had beer^ I'erhApg, indeed,
with those who knew him and loved him i&o well, he did actu-
ally iUW live, in mind a^^ wc^l n^ hody, more than others could
perceive or i;iic3s, On Auitu*t 25, i^rio. he quietly passed away.
The title of hli posthumous work, The IViU tc it Ssten^,
■hali furnlfth us wJlh our laM word of this iifft essay. In
ordar to know Nict«schf?, to righlly appreciate and gd good
from him, wc mList follow his own advice, even thouph
that very advice should lead ug often to differ from hi)
We must read him, that is to say. in crdcr U ^ra^ slrrm^ tfj
t& tnrttt&unt him. We muil lake the lesson of his lik atonf '
with the le»on of bis work», and we must take thefe in their
dcepc&t, and not m their supcrfidal sense. He has done mor^^
harm to those who know him tittle than to those who know
him well, and this is jutt because they have taken what was
easy and have left the reist. We cannot a^ord to take ov«r
our religion or our philptophy from Nietischc, we cannot be
his di«cipies, but we can leaiit from him >}Omcthfn(; that will]
enrich the truths wc already possess.
tph
HER LAUYSHIP.
BV TCATKARtHn TVKAK.
CllAiTETt XVL
LOVERS AND flLCnTMS.
[T was stiri^rising how mnny things Hugh Rdndol
contrivt'I lo do for hm paitOTitss that witiier.
The factory was now open and the increased
output involved I.ady Anne \rt much bufline&s.
B^'side^ thai, her circle of frienris hdd widened.
iple who wcf« interevicd in the things she was interested
'In, tou^bl hvi out wi til ihe wider i*iil>licity. It had been com-
paratively uwy to rej«t butterfly acquaintantps ; it was an-
other mailer when fdend^htp was dS^rcd her which was baaed
«a ft coinnion passion.
A li^Je colony ol wooden hoiLiats hnd grown op About the
Ikttory. In one there were teachers teaehiog wood-carving
and cabinet making; in another the tufted carpet-weaving; in
ytt Aiif'lhffJ u row of uhite-plnaforcd little girJs were learning
10 embroider vtstmenCs and church banners. For the rest, a
i^ood many of the little huts were dwelling houses. It did nor
^o to accabtom workers tu clean and healthy surroundings all
day and %t> tend ihetn b&tk to the ragged and tilthy villages
ai niieht They were fed as well a& hotiaed, that :s, so many
Of them a5 were at i^resent accoinmoduted with sleeping roums.
That practtcal person, Mr. Hugh KiiTidft], had had tirjie to
ttunk out the fact that cookiof; in the wooden houses would
.prfihably reduce itself to a<)ticKtio)i of the teapoi. Lady Anne
i^id not prnpose to hxvc her workers fed on slewed teu and
white bremd. The hotises were separated from each other for
ftu of Tae, and were dotted about like so many little bee-
bives^ Nothing could have bven sweeter and freshpr thdo their
upect. opening by latched doors on to the Inkc-side and the
row o£ quicken trees covered with their scarlet berries.
33a IfKX t^DYSHiP, [Dec,
Hugh Randal had found all the leachcrs for the varioufi
handtcratu and many of Ihc pupils. As he wcnl through Ihc
vilta^ft ho had a knack of s«1ectiag here a boy, there & %}7\,
with an aptitude for the various Wiad^ of :vork.
"It only takes a little imagmation," he said, when Lady
Anne pnited Mm in her impulsive way to Mrs, Maficy in his
prMtflce. " The ordinary bustn«&B man wouldn't think of look-
ing at their fingers. A good many people would think mc
mad for doing It. Those childfcn now — they will be mitsioa-
%t\tt — as they go to and fro betw«ea their homes aod uv*
they will carry the gospel of discontent with squalor add laii-
ness."
"So long a& you don*t mak« u« too industrious,'' Mr«.
M;issey said, "and too energetic. Imagine Ireland a second
America I "
By thl& time young Kenneth Campbell and hts bride had
returned from their honeymoon, and were living under Mrs.
Maasey's roof, to her great contentment. She reported th*l
Kcnnolh was learning hie new duties, at least bo far as tha
first and moat important of them went, and Chat was winning
the people to hin\. Indeed the bride and bridegroOTn were
the delight of the country people, who never ceased to be in<
teritsted in the beautiful youu}^ couple. beautiluMy dEcssed,
who walked about hand in hand, and were so ready to talk
with the poor people and to slip a half crown at leaving into
the biby's dirty lilCJe paw.
That habit of walking hand in hand presented iTselt to the
people's minds aa *' (Juality'd fooLi&hneEs." In fact, they bad «
sort of loving contempt for Captain and Mrs. Kenneth,
^' Sure wliAit are Ihcy but childer?" thty would say. "Vou'd
think himself came out of a bandbox every morning; an' to
think of her, with her lacy pettii^oats «Ln' her little bootii,
etreelln' about over the mountains an' the bogs, an' they star-
ing into each other's faces like as if they'd never look enough I
Och, fitire Quality has quare wayal "
However, Mrs. Mns^^ey was so pTea^ed with the genernl
eject of the golden pair that she w]iispcrcd delightedly to
Lady Anne that fho really believed Kenneth was a born diplo-
matist; and that Lucy waia even better. For to be sure Lucy
had a «cnee of humor in which Kenneth, dear fellow, was
somewhat lacking, and that cariied her a long way towarda
I905]
Her Ladyship.
33S
■a<torsUnd]ng &nd bf ing und^rsiood by the people^ They were
■ cociUant deljghl to Mrs- Massey, they ucre so innocenl about
nOney- matt era And so proud and delicate and gtncrous. Cap*
lain Kenneth had Hved in his amart ret^iment on the tinie&l
Income of his own, suppkmrntcd by big tips from the rich
amti. L^dy Mary Mowbray had beeti a very Haroun-aM^as-
eblil in the cnuter of tips, and w&s quite willing to continue
Ihecn on a more business-! ik? basi^, now that Kennclh wa& a
married mnn. Hut, lo the ama;;cmont and amuaemcnt of those
members of the family who were admitted to the Eaeret, he
bad «ciuiUy relvieed T-ady Mary's bounty. "Now ttiAt I am a
marriefl man," he had said with a proud upliftiny of hjs young
golden headf "I am going 10 earr my Mrife't living And my
own,"
Mrs. Kenneth had a couple of hundred a year; his ^mall
Uicotnei all told, amounted to no more. Hitherto it had kept
haffi^just a little more than in button-holes — say, in bouqueia
(or Lucy.
Now they decldfed their intention of living on ihia sum;
that U to »y, over and beyond their actual board and lodg-
ing, whfch they were to let Mrs. Ma£sey provide for them.
"I am not worth even thai, ytl/' Captain Kenneth had
■aid with beautiful humility. "When I know my bu&incse,
Aunt Jd«, and am worth it, you may talk of a faiaty. As it
i», we »haU do very welL"
Ljcklly they got a good many cheques amorig their wed-
'ding preientft,'' Mr&. Mii^sey &aid with a chuckle to Lady
Anne. '^For he thinks it contrary to his wife's dignity to ac-
pt the benefactions of her aunts any longer. She orders her
■tocking^— real ^ilk, my dear — by the doien. Her trou£&rau'a
pAid for. but how long are the delicate things going to last
through an Irish winter? Hc'» looking for a hor^c for her —
•he's going to hunt. Jacky Callaghan asked him a hundred
and twenty Uiv a nice tittle: niArc. iSeforc they could clinch the
bargain,! went behind hia back and bought the mare for forty
poundti. Voj ihoutd hjive «cen his look of reproach; 'Aunt
Ida/ he «aid-^I have insisted on being an aunt^* it is too
mneb, far too much." It's not In htm to he ungracious, or he'd
have made the poor litlk thing refuse. 1 haven't dared tell
him that Jacky lold the mare to me for a third of what he
had atkcd him, the villain- Ob, they're immortal, that's juit
I
334 ^^^ LadVSHIK [Dec,,
what they are, those Iwo; they're a delight. They'll put down
a sovereign for a laic oJ disUcBS, and what's mori; she'll spill
ber dear IcatB fw it> He'll go on having his dolhcs from
Poole's, 2nd she from Jay's and Redfetn's. Ehe'; doing with-
out a maid heroicalJy. One of the aunt's aUcuance*. provided
her with s maid- I believe he fastens her froclcs for her. By
and byo they'll have to let me do ^vhflt 1 like, Meanwhile*
the independence \% chjirnting. J i^aw her trying to mend a
flounce of her petticoat Ihc otiit r day. She waa inahing a Lad
job ef it."
'*lf you Wbat a mftld for her, there's Mary Anne Cronin,
SutciifTc can ^ivc her a few leiisoris in hair-dressing, I give
SutcUtle »D little lo do forme that she grows discontented. I
know ahe'ft been teaching Mary Anne a good n^aoy thjng^ I
rather i^uspect thai Marv Anne doe^ more of my mtndlng and
'geEiing up' than Sutclilfe. The appetite for not doing grows
by what it feeds on/'
"Mary Anne would be excellent. Meanwhile Lucy refert
casoH-tly in my presence to the tyranny of maids m general,
and the freedom of being without one. She wears a toudlcd
headn I giant yon, it doesn't impair her lovclinces-"
"You'd better make her understand presently that it i% her
duty to have Mary Anne. Jf you put It on the score of kind-
nes*?"
"Lucy would rise to the bait. Meanwhile, kt me enjoy my
Uttle comedy a little longer. After all, we can't expect chiU
dren of their age to accept adoption right off. When they ac»
knowledge that they are my children they shall want for noih-
ing."
The winter was i very busy one for Hugh Randal. Above
aEI, and beyond all, he was occupied with the affaiTS of th«
Mount Shandon exhibit at Washington- He had gone over him*
self about the site. To the pretended indignation of Mother
Patrick he had aecuredt or she taid lie had* the tsile which she
had coveted. She acknowledged that he had got her the next
beat, but all the satnc she pretended to a ttormy indignadoo
with him.
"I don't know what kind ol a comcfhor her Ladyship put
on me, at all/' she said, "that I let her have yoo, Hugh Ran-
dal. And here am I now a lone woman, with no oi^e to look
aftsr my allalrs in America except one who hasn't my intert
1905-1
ffEU Ladyship.
335
ftt h«art. Sure, why wouldn't thp Point pfay secotiH fiddk to
Mount Shandon?"
" Indeed, I did my be&t h*t you," Hugh rrmonBtrated.
"H«vcn't yon got the police station in th« Irish village, and
t haven't we £^t the pncft's house? And aren't we straight o^-
I pOlitC each other in tUc middle of ihc villager'
I "It should be the other way about. Why not I the priest's
^Ktouic And ynu the police stAtLOU ? Did you want to niKke lUc
^™ flnpopuiar ? "
I, *'It will be the nio£l popular thing in the village. Isn't the
^^KKoytl Lriah Constabulary l^and going over? And won't Ihey
^^■lll be crowdin;;; lo see where such ^ne men live?"
^H " I ou^hl to have bad you, Hugh Kandai, and not her Lady-
"Only you'd never give me the reins. Vou know. Mother,
jou'd never let any one manage but yourself."
"Maybe there's some iiiith in thai," the nun said, with a
tftiDlclv. ** And maybe you'd never havo done as much for me
U you do for Lady Anne Chute- She has a way with her, as
1 ought to know. Of I'd never have given her you/'
All the workers feic the stir and excitement of the big com-
ing event thai winter. They were on their nicUle. It was a
young indu^1^y to compete with fome long-established, and
ooly (he bett work was ic go to Washingtoon
Lady Anne was tn and out the workshops and ihe various
cTaif-rooms inspecting, encouraging, praising, every ilay, Hugh
Sandal told her that the workers always looked for her praise,
that the work was the better because of those visits. They
would walk up and down the lake^sidc tatking iLller ibe&evisila,
Lidy Anne with the ^kirt o( her habit over her arm, if she
had ridden, a» she often dld-
JA^tif a i!lanc« waa caat at ihvm hum the windows of the
vofkrooms, but nobody thought the air of great intimacy
airaniie, i'erhaps the dltFcrence in rank between Ljtdy Anne
Chute and Hu^h Randal w its loo enormous to the conservative
Ir|»h mind to make any vuigar misiLppreheu^ion possible- Onee
% girl said, with a ^milc and a sigh* that it was a pity her
Ladyship couldn't find anything belier to talk about with a
h«ndftnm« boy like Mr Kandnl than " ould carpets an* blankets
tn'such ould trash." liutthe sense of the meeting was against
her.
N£Jt Ladyship,
"Sure, \l she wasn't talkin* to him about the likes o' tbcm^
Folly Ryin, »he wouldn't be talkln' to him At all/' ^id one
There had been some auggcsiion of Mary Hyknd going to
Wvhlnf^on En charge of the exhibit, but this Lady Anne hid
prvinptiy n«i^atived.
'* &he*fi not strong enough for it," she said wiih an air of
tendernesa. Sh«had grown very fond of Mary, whose innocent
devotion to herselF wa^ must touching, and had made herfcll a
sort of • guardian of the girl's hcalih and happine^Sn
"Ther« i» only one other person I can think of/' Hugh
AAld in A hesitating way-
"1 wonilrr you didn't Ihink of her before, or at least men*
tlon her," Lady Anne said in pretended rebuke. '*As it la, 1
found her out for myself. It ls your El^teE, Mrs. Kane/'
"You've talked to Honor?"
*'X've found out what you wouldn't put me on the crack of,
that your sitter is a good business woman and will not mind
leaving hcc Uttic girU for the j^lx months the exhibit will be
open/'
" I've often wanted to talk to you about Honor, I*ady Anne.
only, you see, I had a delicacy about my own family."
" Whith was very unkind to mt- "'
He 3«nt her a glance which might have been called adoring,
IF she had not been an earl's daughter, and he Hugh RsmUl,
Ute of the tailor's shop in the littEv provincial town.
"She hai a good bu^ine^s head. She understands businesj.
More, she'« devoted to your interests — like the rest of ua.
Devotion can't be bought/"
A< he said ii a tittle flush came into hia clear, brown cheek.
** Indeed, I know it can't/' she said gently, turning her beau-
tJfoI eyes upon him. "And I am so grateful for it WhHt
should r do without it?"
The speech, and the voice In which it was said, lingered like
tb« sweetest music in his ears after she had gone. It embold-
ened him, while yci the delight dI her presence was all about
him, to make a suggestion which he had had in his mind for
lome tiae.
*'When the exhibition U opened^ Lady Anne, you musl
come over and see for yourself/'
"See for myselfl To Ameiical 1 have never thought of
i90Sl
Her Ladysn/f.
337
|oirjg to America. Yel, afieT a]l, why should I not? It would
be very p]easani- Pcfhaps Mrs. Masscy would come loo,"
Sbc broHchcd the matter later to Ida M&sscy , btit there was
nochmceof her companionship. A certain event waa expected
h ibr f.ummer, about wbicb she confe£&ed herstlf as (idgcty as
Aijy teat prospective grandmother could be.
" Those children I" she ^aid with a voice, att intonation, that
made the words exquisitely lender. "Think of them I I have
t* aee them through it. The shadow of it is over him already-
She is an iacarnaic joy, like a little tight — 'a tall candle" as
that young man, Mr Yeats, might say. Til be happier myself
when It's over/"
l^tdy Anne put a sympathetic hand on her shouLi^cr.
"I'm so glad, Ida, though 1 shall have to do without you.
Oon'i take it too much lo hr^art beforchandr Reserve yourself
'or the joy."
"I ahall have my hands full looking &fler them and getting
l^c baby clothes- And your American expedition f"
**I shall take Cousin Anastasift, 1 think. Miss Grahflm has
Acked me for a holiday this eummer to go sec her aiater, who U ft
K^v^rnesfiand ia growing GUperannuated. I fear. They were to
'"^^ct at Margate, She shall havt her sister here for the whole
>utnrae», if she will. Mr. Randal will loolc after ush He has
tQDQg])^ of everything already, lie wants to book our rooms
froui fh( ftrat of Jane. They have to he booked a long lime
in Advance."
" Wondsrful young man 1 '' Mrs. Masaey remarked, in what
***dy Anne had been accustomed to call "her caustic voice-"
He hft» time for everything — ttcept to get married,"
■'You »eeni to have his marriage on your mind, Ida," Lady
'^■nijc siaid, A little irritably. ''Why should they be in such a
'**»rry about their marriage? They Jire i-erv happy as they
ar^.**
" Perhaps it ;s bt^t^use I h^vfi such an example of married
*<*licity before my eyes everyday/' Mrs, Massey add, dropping
tn^s <yrtic*i tone.
l^ter ahe shook her head over Lady Anne's irritability.
''"l shall have to re-^^onsidcr my large, calm Anne," she said.
^^« if growing short -t em pered."
vol. UXJtII.— 31
33S n£.R LADYSmP, [Dwi,
Chapter XVII.
A BUSV0O1>V.
At Chriatinag, when Ihcre wa£ a large house-party siaytng
at Mount Sbandon, Mrs, Masscy spoke to Lord Duntavcrock
about Lady Anne*s going to America. Hu^h Rand^J wa& May-
ing in the house among alt thr^ fmc folk. Il huppriK^d lobe a
"^pilling wiji day, and Ihe house-party had betaken Ittcif to
bridge, Mrs, Mar^sey had had tho library hrcsidc to hereelf.
She had be«n reading a novr^l. but it had laia nrglccled on her
Jap since she had seen Lady Anne pass the window with Hnel"
Randal, a pack of dogs at their heeU. Lady Anne was wear-
ing her Scotch plaid and a deerstalker cap, Hu^h Randal had
his hands in the pockets of hia homespun Norfolk suit, hU
cap puUcd over his eyes; he woie le^^tng^. They were olT for
An eight mile walk in the teeth of the rain, and would relum
in time for lunch, hungry as hunters,
"What can she have to say to him ^ " she asked h«rv«]f
jealously, and then answered herself: *'To be sure \\ i» only
the industries, always the unending industries. About what elic
could Lady Anne Chute talk to Hugh Randal?"
Then she remembeied \\\-a\ a few days before she had heard
Lady Anne, for Ihe first lime in her life, quote modern poetry,
li had been a bit of the tucomprehcnsibte Mr. Veals, loo, in
his tno&t incomprehensible mood. She did not altogether tike
the signs when a young man and a young woman began to
read poetry together. She had a memory o( I'aolo and Fran-
cesca. And why should not DunEaverock have been hie cousin*^
companion <n\ that wet walk? To be sure, Dunlavcrock had
been out of the way. He had taken in his solitary life to in-
ventmg time-having and labor saving machines for use in mining.
Lady Anne had been profoundly inlcfC^ted in them, and when
he bad arrived with a box full ol chains and cog-wheels and
all manner of things that rattled, she bad given him a rcoA
for his own u^e, with a long table whtfre (he pretty miniature
engines and can could be dxed and remain undisturbed.
"Why tbouJdn'l Dunlavcrock have ^one with hef?"sh«
asked herseif; and as she did DunUverock came into the room-
- Where's Anne?" he asked, '■ Where's Anne?"
There was excitement in his voice. A apot of color had
W]
Her Ladyship.
329
Ricd ieselJ on each of his high cheek-bones. He looked around
irnp^ticntly, as though he ^uapectcd Anne of hi<ting» or Mr&-
Missey ol hiding hei,
*' T have made a discovery," he went on- "IlwitJ do mofc
thin s&vc time and labor; it wUl save live}. It H the germ
of the thing that will vanquish the firc-damp- li 1 can com-
p/«te it the world will be shotl(i?d no more by the fate o£
miners buried alive so that it may enjoy its fircfs, may have
ilfi iron and lin and topper. Sir Mumphrey Davy was ejtcel-
'cnt, so far aa he went, but he did not go far enough — they
■fV/ open their lamps to light their pipe?, I think ] have got
the iire'daoip by the throat. Where's Anne?"
"She bos gone out with that young man, Mr. Hugh Rau-
''al. for a walk in the rain,"
"Ah!" He eat down with a blank expreSAton. "t thought
' should hav« found her heie. He, too, wou]d have been in-
terested. 1 shalt have to vitCw till they come in."
Mrs. Ma«&ey turned to hJm wjth her most winning exprea-
*"Ou. She tould be very winning when she liked, although
•h« would never see forty again, A shght, small, red-brown
^■"unette, with eyes and hair the color of a squirrel's fur> lightly
freckled over her pale skin *(th golden-biown ffeckies; her
'^Ce full tjf shrewdnesEi and iiumor. and a cynicism that was
not unkindly. Even yet men's eyes followed Ida Massey.
■•Wouldn't J do?" ahe asked sweetly.
*' Would you care to see it?" he returned, the inventor's
•*E<:rness springing to his face.
** Perhaps 1 ought to wait for Anne," she said^ with some-
^^ng which would have been coquetry in another and was just
'^'^yward femininity in her,
*'Oh, she won't be back for hours yet. Confe along," he
**'0, jUEiiping up anil preceding hei to the door.
Itis workihop, as he caKed it, was at the end of a long
f^^sage, side by side with the billiard- room. He hurried her
^ItiQg the passage. As they passed the billiard-room door Ihey
^*4rd the ctick of bfllJs and the sound of merry voices and
^^^ghivr- The cousins were not all at the bridge tabic.
He opened the door und let her pa^s within- She glanced
^Und the room, which had painted deal cttpboard^ by the wall
•id many gally-hued pictures, A big screen stood round the
^fti In the corner was pushed an immcu^e doJJ's house.
io Her Ladyship.
*' So you have Annc*5 old nursery," she said, her eyes coic
ng back to the big window which opened on a grassy terrace,
ffhcTe the snowdrops were already springing up in the grass-
*'Is it Anne's nursery?" he asked absently, his lingers
moving over his beloved models. " I hadn't discovered it/'
"Why, it has the aroma of childhood about it. If you
opened those cupboards you would find inside Anne's toy»
and books. I dare swear you would find fewer dolls than horses
and trains and soldiers, Anne always liked the toys of boys
better than those of girls, I believe."
'* Yes ? " he said it indifferently. He was fitting little sec*
tions one into the other. Plainly his thoughts were not with
Anne's childish preferences.
For a moment Mrs. Massey felt slightly indignant. She
glanced at the abstracted face and the epithet " cold'blooded '*
died in her thought unspoken- No; he was not cold-blooded.
Only, if he had so little feeling for Anne's nursery, which ought
to have been a sacred place to him, what business had be to
have the shadowy bond with Anne which her friend guessed
at?
She showed so much intelligence and so much interest in
the discovery that Dunlaverock plainly forgot hts disappoint-
ment about Anne. One thing led to another, and the luncheon
bell was not so far off when at last the explanations, which
Dunlaverock gave with such painstaking patience, were at an
end. And there was a rift in the clouds: a white glint of
watery sunshine lay on the drenched terraces.
"Anne will soon be back now/' she said^ going to tfae win-
dow and looking out. "She will be sopping wet, but she will
come in with the air of the rain having washed her clear and
bright, which is a reproach to most of us/'
'^ It is very wise of her to get out in all weathers," he said,
putting away some of his beloved toys.
"You ought to have been with her," Mrs. Massey said
suddenly. When she had said it she was rather alarmed.
"Why?" in a placid voice. "To be sure 1 should have
liked it. There are no companions I should like better for a
brisk walk than Anne and Randal. But I was so busy. And
now T am glad I was not tempted."
" You would have made your discovery to-morrow jnflt dw
--- vii* You were bound to make it, sooner or later/'
»9t>s.] H£s Ladyship. 341
"Pflrbapj." He had an air of gentle unbelief. *' Perh»p<
iwL Thcfv arc fortunate dayg. This ia one of ihem."
"1 wonder what they find to tailc about — I mt'sn Anne 4ind
Mr Raridal? Endless business discussions. 1 suppose, Annc'«
fQlhu&Laatn IB £0 wond«rfut.**
Shf looked at him from under her eyelids. She wonted
foasjurance If he could give It to her.
"Bt»5tnea*/" he repeated after her. "Bless you, they don'l
tajit bLisineas at] the lime. He is a splendid lalkcr, Haven*i
you found it out? He talks about busini^ss lease of all. There
^fe so many ihinjrs in this country of youri he sheds ;i light on.
^Q<] he has such saJ stories, beautiful Btories, and good stories
■s w-cll- Vou should hear Anne laugh: ahc laughs like a child."
Mrt, Mftssicy fell a senaalion ol ju&lifiable indignation.
"Ske IS B. child," she said Kcr a mompnt she struggled
*ith what sbe was about to say, seeking for words to put \\ in,
**AnDe is A great deal with this young man," she said^
^ho is not of her own station in life. To be stire we under-
•^nd it. for we know Anne. [ hope uo on-; will misunder-
stand ii."
"Ni>hody will/' he said cheerfully. ''What on earth put
'Och an Idea into your head ?"
-A little color came into Mrs, Massey's face. She had ji
^^'y leminine detire to shake Dunlavrrock.
"My love for Anne/" ahc said eoldly.
He tamed and looked at her. and his rather pale eyes were
•'T<» be sure Jove is often ovcr-aniiious/" he said^ "Rut no
''ttr vill miiunderstand Anne's kindness to Randal, Vou see,
^'^c folldw'a a i^cnlli^nian, And. by Jove, he makes a wonderful
***^n>geT for Anne, I think I can answer fur the cousins-
■^^^t^y'rt not the least likely to mlsundcrrtand/'
"They are not, perhapi. but I ataure you, Lord Dunlave-
'Oclc^ thft( ^c Ate nieift; conservative here. Colonel Leonard and
^tk, J^eenard join our part^ to morrow. Sir James Talbot and
^'s. Hamilton CrDibie come the nest day. They will all mis*
*"^^«rsTand it Colonel Leonard i^ f nriniiq abriui it already. If
^^Kb Randal wa« the finest gentleman living, and had All the
V^ftA and ali llic Kracetii he'd juM be the uiJor of Ardnagowan
le u,;*
'*No: to you,"
"To me alio. Tm tarred with the same brush as the rest
34^ Her Ladyship. [Dec,
of us. They'J] be amazed to see the terms on wh[ch he U re-
ceived here. I don^C suppose they'll be rude to him, but — "
'* If they were, I should advjse Anne to show them the
door/' Dunlaveroclc said calmly.
Mrs, Ma$sey had gone much further in discussing; her friend's
actions than she had ever Intended, and her uneasy sense of
disapproval of herself made her irritable.
" Anne is too careless of what people may think/' she said.
"She has always sufficed for her own law. But, as you agree
with her, I don't suppose it's any use saying to you what I
had meant to say."
"And what was that?" he asked; adding, as though he
understood her thoughts: "To be sure we are both Anne's
friends, and why should we not take counsel with each other
in anything that concerns Anne?"
*' It is about her going to Washington in the summer. Haa
she told you of her project?"
'* She has told me. She has even suggested that I should
join the party there."
" And you will do it ? "
'^ T certainly shall If I can spare the time."
" [f you were going that would make all the difference. The
dJEHculty is that I can't go, and Anne will have only Miss
Chevenix and a maid. She will attract attention by her rank
and wealth, as well as by her looks. I don't see Anne housed
in a caravanserai in Washington with only Miss Chevenix and
a maid, and Mr. Randal in constant attendance."
"He would take very good care of her."
Mrs, Massey looked at him in despair. Again she had the
desire to shake him^ but at the moment there came a tap on
the window, and there was Lady Anne herself looking through
the pane, with Hugh Randal beside her. Dunlaverock hastened
to undo the French window so that she might come in.
"We're so disgracefully wet that we thought we'd come in
this way," she said merrily. ** Look, amn't I like a water dog?
I daren't give myself a shake or I'd drench you both. Better
shut out the dogs, except Fritz. They'll find their way to the
stable-yard."
The rain was hanging on her curling eyelashes and the rings
of her hair like jewels. Her ^y^^ were bluer than ever. The
wet plaid clung tightly about her, showing the full curves of
her Hgure.
1905]
Her LADVSHfP.
u\
"Come," she said lo Hugh Randal, " wc »hQ)l ju« have
time lo get Into dry clothe* belorc lunch. 1 kcl tittle pools
formic^ bencith my feet as Ibej' do on the fiends when the ude
U out.'*
"Go and change," Mrs. Ma.9se^ ^id. "Vou will give me a
cold being in Ibe room with yOM. You will get a horrible colt
youfMiir"
'*! have never had «tich a thin^/' Lad/ Anne <itid Uu^rhlng,
** If you w^lE only trust tbe elcmeati, they will be (-ood to you.^
AftQr landi you mu«l tell me what you have been doing,
'*\ have something very good to teU you, Anne."
She looked back at hitQ, with ber hand on the door hAudlc.
" Ab,|;ood[ good I " she said. " Have you told Ida ? Imag-
ine Ida knowing before mc ! Shall I wait and hear now?"
"No,^o"; he pushed her through the door geutly- Hugh
Kanda] bad vanished before her. When the door bad dosed
Sifter her he went back to his table.
*' You worry over Anne because you love her," he «aid.
*' Bui you fiee there Is no need to worry about Aim* at all.
.^nnc alwayv docs right. What is more, she make* people feel
Vhat she U doing right.'*
"Anne always does HghL" Ah, that wa^ better- If Dun*'
laverock would be purblind jt was better to be purblindcd by
^ serene truitfulne^^ rather than by indilfcreDCe.
"I beUeve I agree with hiui," ^he said to herself, thinking
it over Affer wards H " Still. If I caw Jeave Anne to herself, what
about the young man f And what about the young woman ?
You would never foceive me. Anne, my dear, if I were to
apeak plainly; yet I may have (o du it one of theie dayi!
Even though I ihall feel a bufybody and a vulgarian among
all these weir^tntentiaacd. irustini; people."
Ckaftbr XVIII.
THE SQriltK or LOW DroitKJ^
The winter turned round to ipritig. Every week showed
»oi&cthiog gained in the matter of Lady Anite*s many pfojeeta
^-aaolher strip won from the bog; more customers for the
earpeta and the tweeds and the ilanncls; for the lace and the
wood-carving and the veitmenti: a greater pro^ciency and
aceoenplisbmenl on (he part of fhe workers-
344 ^^^ Ladyship, [Dec,
Mrs. Massey would have carried Lady Anne to Dublin
this year as last year for the Dublin Castle season, but Lady
Anne declared that she had not time ; and when the interests
of the industries wer^ urged upon hcr» she answered that next
year would be time enough. Next year she would be able to
wear the Mount Shandon poplins.
Hugh Randal had discovered for her an old poplin weaver,
who had pretty well lived out his day as a man, but not as a
craftsman. He had removed him from a hideous slum street
in Dublin, himself and his young granddaughter, and had in-
stalled them in one of the little^ clean, wooden houses opening
on the lakO'Sidc, the quietness and peace of which the old man
declared were like heaven after the noise of the scolding
women and crying children, the drunkenness and general
squalor of the Dublin street.
" It wasn't quiet enough to die in," he confided to Lady
Anne; "but, sure, it wouldn't ha^ mattered for the like o' me,
T could ha' gone to the Hospice an^ died in company. You
wouldn't be lonely dying there, for all Che boys an' girls that
'ud be takin' Che journey. wid ye j but the child was on me
mind. I used to look at het, soft an' innocent -look in', an' I
used to see her brazen like the others. I can tell you, my
Lady — 1 never lold another except the priest — the temptation
was terrible strong on me at times to take her wid me. Sure,
what matter if they hung me for iC ? Mary's child 'ud go in-
nocent."
"Hush! Hush!" Lady Anne said; "it was a temptation
of the devil. You must never think of it now. The child is
safe. T will take care of her. She can go to school at the
Convent at the Point for a while. Afterwards you had better
let her come into my house, Mrs. Cronln will look after her
like one of her own children."
"That will do very well," Che old fellow replied content-
edly.. "There'll be a good many years yet before I'd need
her to nurse me. You've given me a new lease of life, your
Ladyship. I often felt there that I'd slip out of it, if it wasn't
for havin' little Kitty on my mind."
Old Felix- — Felix Quinn was his name — seemed indeed to
brighten up wonderfully with the new interest. He had one
of Che brightest and airiest of the huts given to him and his
class of poplin weavers, and he had another for himself and
his granddaughter who, going 'and coming from the school at
f9O50
Her LAD^'smp.
343
kc Pomi, 4 r«Tr-ha:red child wich innocent b1u« eyes, bore no
tr^Ac about her of ihc glum over which htr giandfather shook
hi%A he^iil while he forbore co tatic of its horrors.
In the Iflai week of April Hugh Randal left for Waehfrig-
t£>n. H« had been coming and eciag 30 incessantly, during
tb «s months between Christmas and Eaaier, that the Uctoty
h^<l pretty well learned to do without him. He had been abk
to Impart lo those under him something of his abtorpilon in
tt^ ^ work, and thi;igs went on very well indeed.
Not, to be surt„that the factory was a Utopia, Human
n^ Vure there, as elsewhere, had ita occasional faJIuTca; bui^ on
ll* ^ whojc^ it worked admiraWy. and if drink and idl^ncis and
di s- t and laiines^ had not disappeared, they were At least much
lessened by what wa* a civiliting influence, which lilted the
V^dple up to an interest a.nd hopefulness ibcy had nut known
b^ Core, Lady Anne was delighted wi:h the worker^, and the
*li-Aick, iLrtiatk instinct that many o£ them developed $o easily.
• F<=ient]y there would be no lack of designers and dfdughtfi-
"^^Sii \a set the clever fingers working lo beautiful ends.
"Your Ladyship is better than a dojien policemen/' said
*^-*xhcr Gillmftn, the parish pfieel. rnecting Lady Anne on th<
'^•fcd one day: and her Ladyship was delighted — apprehending
ta«> compliment intended, *'Noi that we ever had much use
'*»" Uiem/' he went on, "excepting for the drink. The village
""^ a Fair night used lo be shocking. Bur the boys and girls
"'^ making the parents ashamed. When you can level Dooras
""1 lagc your Ladyship, you'll have done a great work-"
"It wilt not be so long, T hope/' she fiaid, her eyes spark-
'"^^j. "How could any unc be good in th(k»e hovels? Wait
till y<tii lee wh&t we'll win from the bog."
"You are very cure about the bog," the old priest said
lt>^>king at her wich sideways head and shrewd, kindly eyes,
b^-ll-dosed
"Yes. I am sure; although 1 know what ihey say — that
< ^1 never eonijuer the bog. It has made some of them slack
*t itic work, I know, but they will see."
"II Ktxy one i^an do a, your Ladyship will/' Father Gill'
^Vn B&id, lifting bis hnt in farewell, and muttering lo himself
W he went on his way that ihe deserved to succeed, but that
•*ie was too »ure, too surt]. In which judgment of Lady Anne
Chute he but agreed with other people.
The exhibition was to open nominally on the Fir&l of May.
3*f^
H£/i LADYSmP.
[D«.
"It will of«a; o^ 7«s: it wiU open.*" Hngb Rindal said
(TinUy, "ftBd t^ FfcudcBt «ifl docUre it open, standing in a
wildll t iw «f OOflNiia^ VEafloUNc f»^ o^^«T his head, shav*
t«Cft lAAer Uifact* liMtn aai pateen' b«cle«t8 and all m^-
wm «< ttem lir^^ iV VivME tW vUton. h will take a
^iiei vebcmeace whii
mA tkc conjunction
Ail pATtJcuUr ^pccf
nid, witli her wonder-
mm6 Uftry — all of you — '
if Toa could. You would
for IDC to step on, like
^ a*d» ^tli a «udden flush, *
W koek«d ft fine genUeman.
( iMgM'parties be had cori«
Mawtf inio a silrrice and uo^
tavc taken for con^ciout hu-
aleft cye«. He coutd assert
« ^ukt liitifrl/ of htE own. It
"s MmAts, the most dil!tcu1i class
ace ihcy could not accredit him
with money, whjch would have
.accepted him as one uiiusuatl>r
I
^* t^ W<l. "keep company with
^ f^f^AX tMains and ]earnin£:?" M
«^«« yi^ 4WM> litiii- > i*ni vu«ti«. who had ai tint ig-
%i^k iEwAlft M vaC^ u tkey init'>'- ^^ t^i^ne as near
„ -'^'^ b %mt^ r«^ >• luB^ ^ «»c ■" tine t<3 toter-
^ tJ>mi.t «« at Uto tvMww ^u food btood/' Sh James Tal-
S.^4 \»A Mt ««««I^ ^ **>* MRvkias-rooei where Hugh Ran.
\H «« MMftVM* «t S^ Junr ft b«»1y, »»pid, kindly man,
«>j. «i^ % n]rrTit ^M Ul ll>liiftl>*«td wax a leading mcinbcr
A* .^ tl ^t J ^mtI i.Mcfc c*tWr«4 aH the industries uodcf
I
»wJ
HEK LADYSHiF,
547
ftt wing« for that very evening Hugh Randd hai^ SAid, with
bri)^1]t'e/cd incauLiouineeis, that th«rr werr; too many fine Udies
ind gcQiIcmcn, Rnd too few buMnc»» men managing the In^
duitrlal revival,
"One tumble;; over peers and peeresfcs," he said, ''where
4 few shopkeepers would be of raoTc use,"
Every one had laughed. The remark had bit io many of
Lue present that it w^ rmpoa^ihle Id feel specially aggrieved,
.sd Sir James^ aJlcr a few lEiomenEs of lilenoc, in which he
pursed his tips and stuck out his eyebrows, 5aid, id the man*
ner of one who has been Jed to a dtscovery: " Upon my word,
itandai, I believe you're nyhl." And had again subsided into
thoitghtfulne^E.
Hugh KandAl had profited by his opportnnities. The alighl
9^!ecisms of his early d^ys were not repeaterl. He did not
c cz^nsciougly watch the waya of others to see whai (hey did,
J> I4 mind was too preoccupied for that, his observaiion given
t^ bigger Ihfngs- Rut he seemed to remember things he had
lonown long ago and forgotten, The shibboleths of good so-
^i^ty were at least easily understood by him. He fell into its
^^^aya eafiily, «« though he were at home there, and looked
'^^ «re of it ihjin many of those who had been born to it. I,ady
^^'Ivia Hilton whispered malicloualy that he might have been
^n« Lord and Dunlaverock the factor. But. to be Bure, Lady
^^IvJa h»d her own reasons for disliking Duniaverock.
All the Mme, to be at home among the gentlefolk mitde
'^^^ diflercnce in Hugh Randal's w;iy towards the people among
^^^ tiom he WAS born^ When the occasion aroae he could return
^Viaoag them, adapt himtelf to Ihezr ways, as though he had
'^^ver left them. Even Patsy Boland, the dashing commercial
^^'ko had come lo be fitted by Hugh Kandal on thst February
***oming more than two years ago, when Lady Anne had be-
^^ftio acquainted with the tailor's shop in Ardnagowan, watch-
*V)g jealously for any aign of uppighness in his old acquaintance,
^ound none.
Two people were, however, dissatUfied with Hugh RAndaT'l
v^ty ajifiumption o] the ways of tiie world to which he had
oecn Bdmiired. preposterously, one would have said.
The lirtt was Mrs, Masscy, who, watching the young man
VUU an npprcciatton of his plcasanlne^s, which she could not
h*i^ helped doing for the life of her. wai yet chagrined at it.
" H« it leaving Miry far behind, far behind,'* she said.
$49
Her LADYStflP.
[0«c
" W^BC 19 to become of Mary' in a marriage where their mm^ls
will n<vtr meet? It grows more involved. liVen her not
UniifirHtAAiJJnji- Mr, VcJits' |>Detiy migtit have been g^ot over.
But he becomes I?^^ and Jc£s a mate (or her I will never for*-
give hinn if he breaks Mtry's heart."
Another malcontrnE W3£ Colonel Leonard. Hig complaint
vit th4r Hnfh Rftndal wsa well-man nefed. looked a gentlc-
maa.
"Coofoond the feliow,*' he raged to that unfailing cooA*
dttnt, hlB wilo. " CoafOond the fellow, what right has hc^ %
•mp. a breeches -maker* to look tike a gentleman? Upon m^r
woitJL 1 wuaMD*t have rainded so tnuch If Anne had hroughl
OH ImC caT)>et, and aiked us |g sjt do^vn with a clodhopper,
m fiiUow whoae boots fmelt oi the stable, who didc'c know
«rh«t lo do with hi« hands &nd feet, who put his knife in hi*
Moulh, and commttleiJ ail the other sdcJat sins,"
*' Oh, j«l^ you would*': Mrs. Leonard said softly. She
WU the Ktilt, small voice that recalled her husband to reason
and couimon seme when his heat carried him awey- *'You
kiixkw that you would object a great deal more* Hugh."
"I shouldn't, then," ^aid the Colonel, obstinate for once,
*' 1 IttH yiiu, Net], il Sickens me to sef^ the way every one ac-
fipts hiru He lot^k Lady Talbot down to dinner last night.
Arid whan he lalk^^hc Isn't always ready to talk— we listen ;
ya*. by Jove, we listen like a set of idiots. And Anne beams
at him, beams at htm, wMIe we are all listening. Good Lord,
It li enough CO m^kc poor Stiandon turn in his grave-"
** lini why shouldu't Anne be^ci ? Anne likas to pUy
|i|tkVld«nGe tu people, She is prnud of lifting this young man
«tf1 of obtcutity and bringing his gifts to the light. 1 believe
h#r fa I her would have ilone the very same thing. You remeoi-
he? 0«rny DrUcoll, the boy he had taught, whnae wood^carvtng
Wflnl to the I'aria exhibitioEi and won the gold medal?"
" Vas : V remember." The Colonel's frown was grimly im^
I^Hliani, Nell (eneraUy understood hU polni of view, and ia
llili matier It wat somelhtng he did not exactly care to put
lniu filaln wnrds. "You are quite right, my dear, Shandon
tfituld have dor\c the same thing; but, with a difference, with
i lILIferenc*.''
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
IMOGEN AND DBDEMONA.
BV A- V. COHPK-
:HE plays of " Cymbclinc " and " Othclb/' in ad-
dition 10 their own intrinsic bcauiy, are inter-
esting ^s presenting in <acli the character of a
faithful and lovTng wife unjustly ausjiccted^t he
same i» the case in '"The Winter's Talc"; but
ibe conduct q1 the fable is w> entirely different, that it docs
not enter itito the comparison — Imogen, of a lofty and noble
temperament, who^e trial ends happily; Dcsdemona, of a 6'ts-
poiitiun ralhpf tender and sweetly aiTeciionau than heroic.
th^tm one pardonable false step leada to destruction — her
fiddtiy to be manifest only too Ute.
They are both ladiss of rank; Desdemona, the daughter of
1 Senator of Venice in the fiftPEHih century; Imogen, the
diuElUer of the Kiny of Britain in the tlnie of Augustus,
We ftrit hejr of Imogen as havini: been latdy married to
one l^i>n*lu» I'tj^thunius. "a poor but worthy ^entlcmafi," who,
Oft JiocounI of his marriage, has been banished; it having been
tbc intention of the King that she should be married to Clo-
^1 ion of the Queen. Iicr atcp mother, by a former marriage,
• Jtisn "too bad for barf report"
Poithumut JB about to take leave cf his wife; Imogen gives
''ifn ft ring —
Look here, love,
Thti diamond wu my mother's; take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen 14 dend-
PoiUiumut take« it with the usual proteslations :
^^^ Remain, remain Chuu here
^^V While iienie can keep ihee on,
I tad fives her in return t. bracelet, ''a manacle of )ovt." and
I fuiens it on her arm; and fio ihcy pun, not wUhoui forobod^
I ■Of'
350
iMOCS/if a:>JD DESnEAfONA.
[Dec,
the gods 1
When shiU we sec tig^in ^
Qgen cKclaimt i and AfEerwjirda:
There cannot be m pioch in death
M<»re nharp than thU ift.
PcatZtumus \i about to set cue for Italy, Imogen remain-
ing a ^lat<7 prisoner in the palace, where ^he ifi the object of
her father's reproaches:
O disloyal thing.
That sbouldst repair my youth, ihuti heap'St
A year's age on me.
fmo. t am $eiiseles$ of your wrath; a touch more rare
Subducft all pang£» all 'cars.
CjtH, Pa3t grace? Past obedience?
Imti. Pa3t hopcf and in deapair ; that way. past grace,
Cym. O thou vile onct
Meanwhile Fisinio, ro&thiimuE' servant, has been bidden by"
Imogen to see his master oEI) and a charming scene occurs:
Jmp, Wh&t was the last
That he spake to thee?
Pis. It was his queen, hia queen 1
/mp. Then waved his handkerchiei?
Pis. And kifised it, madam.
Ima. SenscEeis linen, happier therein thim II
He relates how, uis long a^ Pt^sthumuia could be distio-
guifihed, he would wave gkvc. hat, or handkcrchtci-
Thou sboutdst have made him
As little as a crow, or less, ere left
To aficr-eyc him.
■be says ; and again :
I would have broke mine eye strings i cracked them, but
To Look upon him, ilII the diminution
or vpace had pointed him sharp a$ my ne«dle.
Nay* follow'd him, till he had mrtted from
Ths ficnallnets of a gnat Co air, and then
Have tLirn'd mine eye and wept.
I90S.1
JMOGEN AXD D£SDEM0NA.
J5!
She IcKh PtsAHLO how ahe was interrupted in her leave-
Uking :
I did not tafce my leive of bim, but had
Moit pretty things to fay; ere I could tdl him
How I would ihiok on hiin a1 ceriain hourJt
Such Ihoughts and such; or 1 could malfe him swear
The fihei of Italy &hoLjJd not betray
Miit< iTiiert&l and his honor, or have chaig'd him^
At the sixth hour of morn, at cooti, at midnight^
To «iicountef me n/ith orisons, for then
1 am in heaven for him : or ere i could
Give him that paning kiss, which 1 had set
Betwixi two charming; words* comes in my father.
And, Kke the tyrannous breathing of the norih^
Sbakca ftll Qur buds from growini;/'
We are now To see Imogen in presence of the enemy.
Poftthumus is in Rome, the guest of one Fhilano. a friend of
his falhcr's' l\c hafi made a waiter wiUi an lulian, lachlmo,
whom he had previou^^ty met In Britain, in which he laid the
ring Imogen had given him against ten thousand ducats *Mhat
Italy contained none so accomplished a courtier to convince
the honor of hU mistress"; a wager, however fooUsh, we are
Assured he might safely have made so far as Imogen waa con*
ceracd^ Poathamua gives lachimo a letter of introduction to
Imogen, and he accordini>)y preseuts himaelL Of the skTll with
which their interview iv conducted, it is superfluous to speak;
nowhere has Shakespeare employed his magic art of laying
open to the upectalor by a few short words, (be heart of bis
characters to more advantage,
/mm. J< he disposed to mlrih ? 1 hope he U.
When he waa here, he did incline to sadness.
When Tachlmo hints (hat PoathumLis had spoken in con-
tempc of tnarriage, Imogen replies:
Will my lord say so?
Not he, 1 hope-
352 IMOGEN AND Desdemona. [Dec,
When lachimo affects to pity her:
What wreck discern you in me
Deserves your pity?
She begins to doubt, and lachimo, proceeding with hi:
slanderous inventions, she says:
My lord, I fear, has forgot Britain.
He ventures to hint at revenge, at which she bursts ou _ .m^
with splendid indignation;
Reveng'd,
How should I be reveng'd . , *
. . . if it be true, how should I b£ reveng'd ?
and presently bids him begone;
Away! I do condemn mine ears that have
So long attended thee,
Percciring that he has made a false step, lachimo artful ^^^■j
retracts and begs pardon: " He only spoke to know if her ^ f-
fiance were deeply rooted."
"You make amends," she quietly says. He then procee
to lay the snare which he is contriving to deceive Fosthnm
by gaining admission into her chamber concealed in a tru
supposed to contain treasure.
The scene is Imogen's chamber; it is midnight; she l» ^^J
been reading till her eyes are tired; she desires her lady (n ^s- "*-
tendance to fold down the page in the book where she left ^^^^ ^
— the same anachronism, it may be remembered^ occurs 2 "
"Julius C^sar"— she goes to bed and sleeps, lachimo — lii<'t
another Tarquin, as he does not scruple to remind himself-
creeps out from his trunk; takes note of the furniture ar^^
decoration of the room; approaches the bed on which Imog^"
is lying; steals from her arm the bracelet Posthumus had placed
there; observes with particular care a curious mole upon he
breast; even notes the book with the leaf turned down — it i^
the story of " Tereus and Philomel " which she, unthinking o'
its applicability to herself, has been reading' — and, satisfied ih^^
he has furnished himself with sufficient materials to deceit
Posthumus, creeps back again into the trunk, ^
The following morning, Imogen misses the brae i
I
Go bfd my w6mftn
Search for ^ jewel that too casunliy
Hath left mine arm; it was Ihjr masrcT's; 'shrew tnc,
n I wiuM lose it for a revenue
Of aay king's in Europe. I do think
J saw't this inariLEng; confident T am
L»t night 'twa^ on mine Ann; I ki«5cd it;
I hope h be not ^one to tell my tord
That I kifs aughi but he,
[tiherlo we have scrn Imogen in the palace and a priioner;
ftie now to follow her, like another RoiJiUnd, in dJFTerent
circumsunccQ, Posthumus, ittu credutou&ly convine{*d of his
wife's dishonor by Uchitno't specious proofs, conlesfes that be
hA^ \ot>t the wager, and g^vcA I^cliimo hit Hug, He coniv^ to
the dcterrnination to contrive the death of Imogv-n, which he
purposes to efTect by means of Piaanio. He accordingly scndi
bins a letter dircctint£ him to murder Imogen, for which pur<
pofie, he saY^, he will make an oppartunjly. This opportunity
n to be brought about by a letter he has ^cnt to Imogen, in*
forming her that he is at Milford-flaven and directing her to
loeei him iheicn Imogen'fi jay on receipt of this letter is charm-
O learn'd indeed were that astronomer
Thai knew the stars as I his characters.
ic opens the letter:
Good wax. thy leave. Blest'd be
Yon bees that make these locks of counMl.
Lft9, learrtin£ where vhe is 10 meet Posrhumus:
^* paua^e which seems to anUcipai e the poteib i litica of the
^ftilwav aad tbo motor ear.
for a horse with wintfsl Hear'st thoa, Pisanio?
He ti ai Milford-llaven ; read, and tell me
How far 'tU thiihcr H one of mean nToiirs
May plod it In a week, why may not I
Glade thither ia a dav>
354 Imogen and desdemona. [Dec,
How far is it
To this same blessed Milford ? and bj the way
Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
To inherit such a haven . . -
. . . Prithee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
TwLxt hour and hour?
and she arranges to get her attendant out of the way and to-
cfFect her escape as a franklin's wife; and so sets out with
Pisanio to meet her husband.
As they near Milford-Haven^ Imogen^ noting Pisanio's dla
tracCed manner, expostulates ; and he hands her Posthumus^'~
letter, from which she learns her husband's belief of her dia-
honor and his design that she should be decoyed to Milford- —
Hav^n and murdered, which draws from her the magnificent
apostrophe :
False to his bed ! What is it to be false 7
To l[e in watch there and to think on him?
To weep 'Iwixt clock and clock? if sletp charge nature
To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake? That's false to's bed^ is It?
Then a Little after, turning to Pisanio:
Come, fellow, be thou honest ;
Do thy master's bidding; when thou sees't him,
A little witness my obedience; look!
I draw the sword myself^ take it, and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart;
Fear not; 'lis empty of all things but grief;
Thy master is not there, who was indeed
The riches of it; do his bidding; strike.
And again:
. . . Prithee, dispatch ;
The lamb entreats the butcher; where's thy knife 7
Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding.
When I desire il too.
This strain is too intense to be home long, and we are re-
lieved when Imogen upbraids Pisanio with having brought bcf
so far before declaring his purpose. "But to wJa tli
i^osO Imogen and Desdemona. 355
says, "in the which I have considered at a course"; which ia
no leu than that she shall assume male attire and "forget to
be a wonui."
Imogen airswcrs:
Be brief,
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.
The scheme is that she shall obtain service as a page under
Lucius, the Roman ambassador. Fisanio proceeds to furbish
her with doublet, hat, and hose, which, with convenient fore*
thought, he has all ready in his cloak-bag.
This done they part and Pisanio returns to Che court- Be-
fore leaving, he has given her a box containing, as he sup-
poses, a cordial of sovereign power, which the Queen had given
him, Imogen seems to have failed of her purpose and to have
missed her way ^ and we meet with her, faint with fatigue and
hunger, before a cave, repeating:
I see a man's lile is a tedious one;
I have tired myself, and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick
Bui that my resolution helps me.
Many years before one Belarius, an old lord about the
court, had been condemned to banishment, and he in revenge
procured Imogen's two brothers, then infants, to be stolen from
the palace. He had carried them to this spot and had brought
them up as his own sons; and here Ihcy lived together, remote
from and unknown to the world.
Timid as Imogen is, hunger conquers fear; she approaches
the cave and calls out; hearing no reply, she ventures in and
helps herselt to food. Before she has finished Belarius and the
two boys return. After a prettily spoken apology on her part,
and friendly olTers of welcome on theirs, she stays with them.
After a time she falls sick — "heart-sick," as she says — and
bethinks herself of Pi sanio's cordial. This drug had been given
to Pisanio by the Queen in guile — she believing it to be a
poison which her physician had prepared pursuant tq her in-
structions; the physician, however, doubting her purpose, had
prepared a drug which, instead of killing, caused a death^like
i<vooa, out of which the patient would recover after a certain
3S*
/MOa£// AAl> DiiS2?LM0NA.
(Dec,
time. Imcjgcn then, having swaHowcd the drug, fell Inlo a
iiix^^t rcficrutiliiig dcilh and was bclieverl liy ihe broihers lo
be dQa;I, ■nd w« by them commuted to earth wilh the song
beginning :
Fear no more the heat o' the sun.
In due co^r^e. ItTiogen drowsily awaken and finds bpsrde her
the heaJIeii l>iidy of bcr flcp-m Father's son, Cloten, who had
b«4n killed In Ight by one of the brothers; she mbEakes i\ for
that of ?t>4thamia^» nod concluded th&t he had been killed by
PinaioAnd CEoiea; being overcome, she again «^vooni; LuduH
Aod hi» vc»tdi«ra find ber and, on her recoveriT>g, she takes ^^r-
vi« wlih him under the ninie of Fidele, the nzime she had aa-
MVied with bcr chtnge of dre)s.
The co«tdttCt o* the conclusion of the pJay ha« been mucli
admired for ilt iascauity, buc wc almo&l la^e flight of Imogen
The caibi»^fe of Liieici* bat failed, anJ war has brolecn out;
in a biulc. eaa^aly tbrougb tbe vaTor of BtUriu^ and the two
brother*, ibe BHiom ar< *t<lormus- Among ihe rest, Luciu»
and r>Mlbt»miLi-»irho h«« accompanied him from Italy — and
lacMmo are taken pHao4iert; ibcy wUh Kidcle are brought be-
foi^ CymbeUne; Lacius be;;iE Tidele's life. whi;;K Cymbeline
ftaata, and bM« b«r demand a boon^ Fidele. instead of asking
Ibtt lilt o1 Ludui, as the latter had expected^ demands to know
wkeatM lacbimo \^>il Foithumu^' ring, which he was wearing,
and >o at leogth the whole siory corner nut- lachimo leils
bow be hid doluded Pi^fthumus, and Pogthuttms, rushing i<>r'
tf^rd. dtA<>un^0* himself a.4 the murderer of Cymbctine't daugh-
. , . O Imogen ]
My iiueen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
linot;cn. Imogen t
UK* lnt«rrn|»t» and Posthumus strikes her:
Thou scornEul page,
Tlietc lie thy part.
mjf lord Poithumus
Vflm fl«*t' Ititlld Inkagea till now. Help, belpl
Mifta htinnrfd Jjidyl
«905>]
Imogen and Desdemona.
35T
And 5o FjdtlG t5 madp known »5 Imogen. PK^ently they
embrace and Im&gen'^ trials arc at an c^<l-
Onc would \\Avc fixpccted dome cxprc^sioa of surpriae and
ftntk reproa<^h on Imogt^n's part^ that Poathumus should sa
ifghcly have credited her dishonor, and some loving words of
fcfgiven^ss and rtconciUatioa. bul theic h nothing of thisw
Prom the eKiraordiiuiry ma&quc in the last act, as wpII as from
the refrain to the dirge sung over loiagen, ii has been aug-
gcst«d that another hand has tampefcd vviih ihif beautiful pU>.
In the "Divine Desdemona" we have a simpter, fofter, and
rhap^ even more lovely character.
Maiden never bold
Of spirit, so still and quiet that her motion
Blushed at herself
Though ahe has had many suhor^p ?be is slili home with her
^cr» a magnilico of Venice. The action of the play begins
^V ^ (trabaniJo beii^g aroused in the dead of night wilh the
nc^^i^t (hat hi* daughter has Ml his house; fhU he iinds to be
3/ too true. She has been seen with Othello, a noble Moor
^ lie military service of the State. Brabanlio and others come
:> n Othello (n the street, and he is straightway called before
= StnatCj to answer for the abduction of Brabantio's daugh-
l*"" . which, and his marriage, he frankly admits. In his " found
""'^'■arnlahed tale'" before the Senate he relates how, having
^*^«i received as a K^est at Brabantio** house, he would relate
"i* advenlurc*H to which Deidemona li&lened with rapt atien-
*^*1. Observing this he lound occasion to incite her to ask for
tb^ telling of his whole Hfe'a story:
Sha i^avc mo for my pains a world of sighs;
She swore: In faith, 'twas strange, 'twai pas&irg strange;
Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful ;
She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished
Thst heaven had made her such a man l^^he thanked m«,
And bade me. if I had a friend that lov'd her,
] should hut leach him how to tell my story
And ihit woiiid wno her. In thiA hint I spake;
She lov'd me for the dangers I had past,
And I lov'd her tlut y\\v. did pity them.
Wc 4rc not to measure the code rjf etLqueLle o( the South iit
Desdemoaa.
dte fjxlccfttb ccniory by ihat of RngLsnd in the twenlielh ;
Min tbe faint wsB sutficicDily broid; but OihellowouM b« only
too tfdJ aiTArc ihil "theibjidow*d liv«ry of the burnlsh'd sun"
BiHfht be unaccffptabfc to Duiiacnuntt and. tberafora, he would
desire tobare»{>mr encourAeemcnt from h^r before be v«niured
to detlirv fail lott, Howovcr, "»hf ^aw Oihcllo'a visage In
U* muid" D«sdcinoria now enters, and in « modest \\n\t speech,
■on»ewbjit reminding iii of Cordelia, asserts her position and her
duty. Othello, who h^d been already »ent for by the Senate,
on account ol a sudden movement of the Turkish tleel belorc
BrJtbantlo'* complaint came before them> 13 now despatched on
the jTiiHnt to Cyprus, and the i^Liettion is as lo the diapotjil
of DeBclrinona; ahVi m a tijiirit«d speech, ekcts to accompany
her huibtnd:
Thai I did iovc the Moor lo live with hinii
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May trumpet to the world . . ,
. . . Let me go with him,
Br&bantio'i parting «ho| is ominous:
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see;
She hai dcceiv'd her father, and may thee-
X
^^T Arrived iti Cyprus, a prodamatioo 15 made for a public fes-
tival on Account of (he destruction of the enemy's fleet, which
bad met with disaster in Ji etorm. During the festivities. Cas-
s\q, Othello*^ tiRUteninl. at the crafty Ln&ligation of lago, hts
eafign, unhappily admitted the enemy which ^toLe away his
brains; a drunken brawl ensued, and Caseio is dUmi^sed from
Ibis of]ie«;
Caisio, I love thee ;
Bui never more be officer of mine-
Cahsio watt known to Desdemona, having been employed as
a go-between in Othello's courtship, and Ugo suggested to
Cusia that he Ahould obtain De£demona*5 intercession for the
purpose of bcm^< reinstated in his post; tago's real object being
CO Entangle DcEde(nuna» and thereby work his revenge upon
Othdlo, who had preferred Cataio for the lieutenancy, and bad
(4a he c^rjte CO suspect) d>iue him other wrong, Cassio. accord-
ingly, applies to Ut^demona. who aajurcs him of ber influence:
I
^
1^5 1
r^OGEK AND DBSDEMONA.
359
Be merry, Cas&Jo ;
For thy solicitor will rather Hie
Than give thy cauic away.
She presently meets with Othello and (jreg^et her suit with un-
/ortunftle importunLiy ; for. just before. lago had wen Ca^alo
cortting away from her and had slyly hinted to Othello: "3[aF
' tike not Ihai ^' ; refusing Awy cxpUiitiuon of his mcanmg.
This struck a spark of suspicion in OthcHo's mJnd, atid made
hin^ put off Dcsdemona'3 repeated entreaties whh some slight
frriiai-lon>
[t is not ta the present purpose to go into the aTlfol Jnsin-
ua-Cionsof lago and their reception by Othello, While we some-
tirr^ ci wonder at his credulity, we lympaihijie rather than blame;
hj& pa^ionale love for Detdemona is. at on^e, the explanation
Of And che excuse for ii '
Perdltloii catch my soul,
But 1 do lave lliee ! and when T love ihee not,
Chaos is come again.
When we next aee Desdemona, Othello has been deeply
**^^ed by lago't suggcytion^. and she. observing hie manner, asks
^* ^%t la not well. He complains ai headache, and she olTers to
'*'^* d up his head with her handkerchief. '* Your napkin is too
"'^le/' he says, and, ptiiting it from him, it falls upon the
B^^^ond. KmitiA, layo's wil'c, who is in attendance on Dc^fl^*
^^^ aa, secretly picks ic up, For he has often told her to try and
It^ ^ pnsniasLon of it; ao it comes into Tago's pus&esbiun.
When, ihortly afterwards, finding thai she ha<i lost the hand-
"^ ^<hicf, and Emilia falsely denying all knowledge of ii^ Dea-
<i^»:^9na «ay«:
Believe me, T had rather have lost my purse
Full of cruaadoes; and, but my noble Moor
la true of mind and made of no such baseness
As jealouii creatures nre, it were enough
To put him to ilUihinking,
U he not jealous?
Emilia, Desdemona repliev;
\Vho. he? I thirik the nun where he wai bom
Drew all such hutuors from him^
360 Imogen and Desdemoi^a. [Dec,
We arc not to judge EmUia too severely for not disclosing to
Dcsdemona what she knew as to the handkerchief; lago had
expressly toid her to keep the thing secret, and she might
think she was in honor bound to do so; and she had no sus-
picion of lago's design.
Presently Othello enters ; he takes Desdemona by the h&nd :
This hand Ja moist, my lady.
Desdemona answers:
It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.
Othello replies:
Hot, hot, and moist,
and then, with a double meaning which Desdemona does not
perceive:
'Tis a good hand,
A frank one,
Desdemona simply answers:
You may indeed say so;
For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
Desdemona again brings up the unfortunate subject of Cassio.
Othello, to whom lago has represented that he had seen the
handkerchief in Cassio's hand, without heeding her, asks for tkt
handkerchief. Desdemona unhappily equivocates : " I have it not
about me " ; and presently flatly denies its loss : " II is not lost,
but what an if it were?" And again: "I say it is not lost."
"Fetch it/' he demands, "let me see'i," "Why so? I can,
sir^ but I will not now; this is a trick to put me from my
suit." He again and again demands the handkerchief, she try-
ing to divert his thought and bring him round to the matter
of Cassio, when he abruptly leaves " in strange unquietness."
"Is not this man jealous," now asks Emilia.
Much has been said, to her discredit, about the innocent
part Ophelia took in the deception practised upon Hamlet; if^
in this instance. Desdemona had told the simple tmtbt and
confessed the loss of the handkerchief, the whole matEei would
have been cleared up, and lago's treachery laid hare — and the
world would have been the poorer by an immortal tragedy.
It has, I believe, been objected that the loss of a handker-
i9osO Imogen and Desdemona. 351
chief is too -sKght a thing upon which to found a tragedy.
1^0 knew welj enough that
Trif!es light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of Holy Writ,
D«sdemona is now hopelessly lost; she is still unahlc to
understand that Othello's peiturbatJon of mind is due to any-
thing on her part; she aitnhutcs ft to political affairs, and is
still hopeful of befriending Cassio. To Emilia's hint, that it
may be something neater home, she says:
Alas, the day, I never gave him cause.
Cassio's name is casually mentioned and Desdcmona says
she should be glad to see Othello and him reconciled "for
the lovtf she bore him/* Olhcllo, incensed, cries out: '* Fire
and brimstone I " and presently strikes her.
As she gradually realizes Othello^s meaning, Desdemona's
demeanor is exquisite- A few passages may be quoted :
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
To Othello's question:
Why what art thou?
she answers:
Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
Oek. Heaven truly knows thou art as false as hell.
Des. To whom, my lord? With whom P How am I false?
Othello in his agony Falls to weeping.
Dts. Why do you weep ?
Am I the motive of these tears, my lord ?
I hope my noble Lord esteems me honest,
Alas, what ignorant sin have 1 committed?
0th, What committed I impudent strumpet 1
Des» By heaven, you do me wrong.
We note her direction to Emilia; the little passage in the
vein of Imogen :
'lis meet I should be used so, very meet ;
1905-] Imogen and desdemona. 363
Some prenionitioQ brings to her mind her mother's maid,
Barbara, wbose Lover went mad and forsook ber; and ttrho
Kid a song of *' Willow " wbicb she died singing — that aong
will not go from hcT mind; she will sing it 'Mike poor Bar-
bira."
Othello returns soliloquizing:
It js the cause, it is the cause . - .
Put out the Hght^ and then ...
Be thus when tbou art dead, and I will kill tbee,
And love thee after,
Desdemona wakes; Othello bids her prepare for death;
ie^s brave than Imogen, Desdemona is frightened and entreats
for life and respite :
O banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
Kill me to-morrow; let me live to-nightl
But half an hour!
But while 1 say one prayer I
Othello smothers her. There is some one calls without*
'Tis Emilia; she will speak to his wife-
My wifel my wife I what wife? I have no wife.
Desdemona, however, was not yet dead; partially recover-
ing, with her last breath she protests her innocence and seeks
to screen her husband. To Emilia's enquiry;
Who hath done this deed P
she replies:
Nobody; T myself. Farewell.
Commend me to my kind lord I O farewell!
A MODERX FERSECUTIOX,
Wf C ILT.
'CH hftt b««n wfil!*n of late aboui the F.oxperof
Williani- la Hct. of all living monarchs, he has
httn jao9K ivdvercUrd : but ihere is one branch
of bi» ftctirity, ind thtl no> the [cast among bU
cnanj^ preoccupations, which is apt to be over-
lookxd- Wf tt^t to th« Polish qucalron, of which the West*
•til vorid ta45 been for a o:ioiaeAt reminded by ihc speech of
the Empcpor at Goc«n
Thu »pc«cfa.i XMkvA point bj^ poitii, prcsentt a good op-
port«ailT to cvpote* tfi a brtel way, the reUtiona exiit-
iof b>l«tia tbt iQpefial i;ov«rninent and tt» Pali£h cubjectp,
n Moottttuiy vhtcb 1 ^adly cuke, hnotving how few Western
^toyh Imv« faiNnsBed tb<mc]v» [n the question. The speech
tl no4 kflictby. Tb« rtmdtt, ihecefore, will not Hnd it too
tnHtiU a taak to p<nut it before reading my comments upon
d. X^cro*dott ibe occ«won of William's visit to the ancient
^_jl^ ^ fvJaskd waa far from large. It vva& ccmpo^ed prin-
V4»4liy of )««ra aad Germans, tbe Empeior's Polish subject*
^lli* mM«tMlt«d only by the schools, and the Bishop and
fUllltftt, wko w«n ordered to be present. The Polifih nobkt
Will i««>ltyi *' w*'^ '^ ^'^^ remainder of the clergy, were coa-
<|tk«o«« by tbeir abience- They Irnew fult well that ihey
^M tUHVt nothinie but repetJIions vi the unwarrantably 9e<
^t% rtmwk^ which the Kraperor, within the last few yearc«
bM Vtlfr^t both at Maricnburg and Foscn. That they were
It^tt iul>Uh<fl. tb« following translation of the Gncsen speech
1 tluink y«u (oi iht words of welcome wbicb you (the
bnviiiMnAMai) have jntt pconouTiccd in ihc name of the town
iif tln*>«an, and 1 tribh lo thank j^u att- I am moai antelou«
M v«)iiek« my tbnnba bere publicly on Ihv niniket square
fU4 Ibv Itvarty rcceptian which baa bee» pEepaieLE for our, fbr
lll^ bMuUflll dMoratton of Ihc houses, and e^ecially for the
I
I
I90i-I
A Modern Pehsecution,
3<SS
gay and Happy faces i^'Tiicb surTOUud me, T am stHl more
pleased thai the colonisln have cnme in siich numher^ \o
freet me, in^ I hope iH^t you will fiii<I llie opporHinily \a
express lo tliCht coloiiibls in)" mo^rt bpnn^' I1):iii1cb for j^fllhtf-
iug Lete iu sucli giieat uuuilwrs, I rejoice tbat the woik ot
Geiuiao culture adva:icvs ho lieaTtUy aod bravvlyj though
with difflculty Bud slou^Iy, 1 am gUd Ifant Ebc Pru^iau
towDp GneienH knows bow lo pay homage in nucb a bi^cotn-
fng niflnrer to lb? Ptusbidti King, Tht wamings and sd'
tnoniiious wbicli I cxpre^^d a lew yeat& ago \u Pi3»n,
eweryonej probahly, has kept in liia liejirl.
It seems, however, thai aome of my Polish subjects have
iioi clearly uni3eistcc"J whether or not, under the banner
of the lIohenioll'^rD , Ihey are lo find protecUou sTid juntice ;
nnd ihc 1 III* ^1 nation, beAted by hbioiteitl memories, can
easily kad du iii^aimTinble uiktid lo false cnjiclusicns. As
tb«T3, EO tu-ilay^ [ repeat that cvecy Polish CuthoJic ahuuld
kuDw ihfti f respect bU rcIigLon, vuij that h« abiU £nd no
obsudev iu fulAlling his religJoiia dulJea; but (bat on his
pATi he should reapect oilier creeds, just fls we know how
to respect hU,
Krom the CicrEuaD side, the work of culture i^houM btr
Oameil ou. A German who sells hiH property in Ibe East,
Sins against the Father! And : of whatever cla^s or age, on
this point he should pei^evcre. It ^leems to me that among
many (Lcmian-i here there is a battle between heart and rca-
^OD. When a Cr^nuau Gnda hiuiselj in tht position of finsTi'
<:\»\ mdcpendence, then the heart aigues : " Reil thyself re-
tire, and ivtura to the fat West, wbete life has greater
pitaauro," But then reason ought to speak: *' One umst
firu fulfil hl» duty and afterwards thinlc of pteasuTc," It
is A duty, both to tbfi Fattivrlund and to Gf^rmanism, to
frork h«re tu the Hast. As a sentry may not abandoD fats
pout, iicithci sbouJd ihe Gernjans recede from the Kasl,
I would reuimd eveiy CalUoIiCt whethei" he Is a Pole or
» 0<rinau. I would remind him of on« thing further. When,
m\ my last visit to the Vaticfln. the VcTierable Leo XIJI.
Iiflde nn.- farewell, h« took both my handw, atid, thongh T atn
u Protestant^ he blessed ^^e^ and gave me the followiiiK a**-
Burauce : " I prouiise and ileclare to your Jmpcnnl Maje&ty,
bi tb« nwmc of all your Catholic subjects of every nalioimlJty
•nd every class, that Ihey wUl always rematu the fuiihful
aobjecta of the German F.pjpeior and Kin^ of Prussia,'' It
ii youf duty, gentlemen of the Chapter, to realise the^Ke
n
366 A Modern PEItSECUTION. [Dec.,
words of the Venerable High Priest, that good fattli should
not be broken, after h\A death, with the Gtrman EroperoT.
You may always cquqC on my help. Germanization means
culture, freedom for everyone, in the religious field as well
as every other tieEd of thought and action. I drink iiom
this goblet to the happy future of Gnesen.
To one unacquainted with the stale of religious and na-
tional affairs in the eastern provinces of Prussia, this speech
may seem at first sight quite inoffensive and formal; but let
us follow the Emperor and explain the real meaning which his
words carried to the minds of the milUoos of his Polish sub-
jects wbo read them.
The colonists, whose presence caused sucb evident satisfaC'
tion to his Imperial Majesty, are Geiman peasantSj imported
from all parts of Germany by the Governmental Colonization
Commission, which sells land lo them on easy terms, supports
and protects them in every way. This Commission was insti -^
tuied expressly with a view to colonize, little by little, th^
whole of the Polish provinces with Germans. These German
are bound, by their contract, never to sell the lend to Pole
A Pole can never, at any price, obtain a piece of land fro
the Colonization Commission. It is easy to infer from th
that the colonists arc the natural enemies of the Kaiser's Poli
subjects, especially of the agricultural population, which is i
portant and industrious, and ever anxious to acquire land.
" Germanization means culture!" If this were so, the
colonists would seem to us most ill-suited to prove it. Thi
are the scum of Germany, for an honest and industrious mi
will find work in his German home, and will not expatria
himself and live among a people differing completely fro
him in religion, language, tradition, and custom. Beside
he will not choose to become the paid sfave of the Govcr
mem, which will certainly protect and help him most assid
ously, but only on condition that he become the weak instr
ment of its plans and its aims. These plans and aims may
condensed into the words " Germanization " and " ProtesUD
zation. "
The following incident will show the enormous advaotai
which the imported German farmer has over his Polish neigg
bor, thanks to the ceaseless protection of the Governme :
Within the East few months the German colonists of Malacho^
A MODBHX PEHSECUTfO^*.
S6T
f^med a co-operative society for ih« purchase ot Bt;ricu!turaT
BUthinery. The amount rtquirfd was twenty rhoosand marks.
The colonisis themselves collected only sixty matk^, but the
Government conirlbuied the whole of the remaining atjm [
The Coloniiaiicin Coinmbsion always hat prtf^cdencc over ail
ljUcr buyers, for it has at its ribposiiior^ Jaige sums voted by
Eiariiamcnt, and tt does Tiot hesitate to vsc tlum lavishly si^d
t^y fal>ulouA prices whenever land is on sale in the Polish p(0-
v^nce£. This is not Ihe only diflkculty with which Poh^h buy-
er! must contend During the ses^on of the I'rutsiun Diet,
in the winter of 1903-4^ a ^aw was passed prohibiting the foun-
fUlion ol a new '* colony " wilh-jiit abiatiiJitg the pertniisicn of
thv governor of the province. A smalL pca^nnt may buy (from
another Pole), or inhciil, & piece of ground, yet he will be ulter-
'y unable to dwell upon it. because the authorities will refuse
Qjcu pfrmissjon to build a hou^e or cultivate a rairit- A Ger-
°i^, in the same c:ircumstajiGe6, obrains Ms permissicn with-
*UE riilTicully, Therefore the taw is dircctftl against P^lcF,
though it seems to apply 10 all, for thr customary policy of the
'^^ernment is to oppress wtthcLi laying itself open to accusa-
^01)9 of injustice. If such be Lhe Iegi1imat« applicaiitjn of these
'***. it may be imagined co what inftniie abu^t Hnri chicanery
^h^ PoIi«h population la aubjccted in tvery field of cconotoic
^^Uvity. at the hands of a numeious and insolent btireaucracy,
^'■tich aygrc&sivcly opposes Ihcm by every pos*ibie mean^^ boih
'■^Ofai and material,
The allusion to the protection which the Poles are to find
"icj^r the Hohenzollein banner would be amusing weri! it
'*^» SO brazenly cynical. If the Emperor thinks that he is
"^ceiving; the Poles, he is mistaken; they know btit too well
'"^t under the Hoheniollern banner there ejiiaU for them neither
J**Miee nor protection. For what are Ihe just nnd inftJierisble
'^&hts of every nation ? Its language, its traditicn, its religion,
^M a free scope for economic devetopmenl- These the Em-
P*ror entirely ignorts- He asfetrta rhat the Poles have perfect
'^U^jioos freedom. We ahall see later on that lhi« suiemeri
^ QtJt i|uite correct ; bat even were it so, there? are uther points,
^*ceiy lea* viial, which must ba considered befoie one may
*o boldly aisert, as decs the royal speaker, that the Poles under
bit rule have no re&^on for disconteri, and th»i aW iheir ^ ricv-
v^i axe btit the phantasies of " the imagination heated by bii-
3«
A MODER.V PEPSECVr/OK.
[D,
toncal memorlcE." Tltc&c phantasies of the im^ginaticn p:
themselves as follows to a jusi ;ind imparlial miitdi the TotUb
lanytjage is practically banisticd, and :?cArc«ly altowrd |o take
refuge by the family fireside; in ihc whole extent of the ccun-
try, annexed by Germany from the ajici^nt kingdom ol Pobnd,
there is literally not a single Politsh school oi aiiF category;
moreover, in the eitisting German government schooU FollEh i*
not taught tvfLVi as a foreign language; in fact, il h absoluteir
prohibited. Not even as an aid m Jearnint; GertDAn it. it toJc?-
atod. Such a system \^ bound io wipe out every advantage
which the peasact children of all other countries derive from
their clentfintary schools.
Let us bear in mind that a Polish peasant child of 3ix — that
ift the age required for nttcnriitig public ibatniction — doe* not
understand a syllabic t^ff German. The schoolmaster, be he even
A Pole, miL/ not addre^ hi& infant cln^s in Polifih. bttl must have
recourse to pantomime. A Jew^ wetrks ago the sehooJmaster is
the little town of Wiilfowo, endeavoring to convey to his papib
the German rci^dcring of Ehe verb to scratch, exercised his naiU
on his own cheek. AV« know as a fact (hat only one boy under*
<tood his meaning; the others were divided in opinion, iom«
thinking l^e meant to indicate his naiU, Others hU cheeky etc-
And so it H wirh every new word that ihe children le»rrt. Of
C9urtOj in 3 numerous class, the master CAnnoi fitop to explain
clearly to every individual child who has not caught his mcanipg.
The result is that the children, after eight years of effort, can pro*
nounce German flncntly enotig^h. perhaps, but scarcely understand
It; at the sime time, we must suppose that they cannot read Polish
— *for if they caa, it Is t^rtalnly neither the meiit nor ihe ^Sib
of Ihe FniRsian Hoard c^f EduL-ation. The consequence of kLL
this is that the elementary education has nr> civilixing influence
over the children who fictiuent the school*. On the contrary.
it stupefies them and leaves them for the rc5t of iheir l:v«a
without the possibility of profiting by worthy hooka and news-
papers. ■
Of coiir!ie [here is a general endeavi^f among Poles of •!?
classes to make up, by private efFort-:. f&r this serioui ins«iffi-
dency of public instruction. Poor parents with difficulty lind
time to leach their children how to read Polish, and they
are encouraged by the higher classes and by the priests in this
task; proprietors «eek Co distribute Polish books among Iheir
'905-]
A JfOD£li.V P£ftSECVTiON.
3*9
workmen; ladies, both in towns and in the country, Esther chil-
dren tcgcthci md teach them ; h\x\ this mubt he done in £ecfe1,
for it U a cnme wH.tched lor by the police and punished by
imprison mcnl, i; was the ca^c with Madame Omankowslca, of
loteia, a few years ago^ It mu^I be understood, also, that in
G«rn3any education is the monopoly of the State. No one,
thMcforc, m*y start a scnool without havtng previously obtain<*l
the sanction of Ihe hoard of Education ^ and as four children
consiiluic a school^ ono may not gather Ihal or a larger num-
ber to teach them, much less lu IneCruct them, in the TolUh
language or the hlttory of Poland- That hifitory is banithed
cr]in[>]atoly from the Stale schools.
The Prussian police is most vigllanc, ind very prone to sua-
pvct a Poljsh propaganda, even wheie.no ihoughe of it \& entcr-
tilined. Thus nun^ havp bptu pre^enferS from gathering together
imal] children, while their parents are at work, and teachfrg
them kindergarten subjects and lilde childish rhymes and songs.
hcc^nse These ion(^ and rhymes were Polish, Some years ago
*ri English lady, ucitrly unable to apeak Polish, was watched
Md warned by the police, because she had formed a £mall
Cirponiry cla^s in a viUagBn Sbe was immediately su^pe^rcd
ei teAchidg Pnlrsh^
As we have said above, the gentry distribute Polish boobf,
ehicl!y small historical noveU of the most innocent detcriptioi:,
lives of The saints, elementary reading-hooks, and catechisms,
imong the peasants This also must be done with the greateit
precaution in order to evade the vigilance of the police.
The following incident regarding the disiribuiion of Polish
booJcs is typical of the attitude of the ?niBsian authorities towards
■thr Poles. A young lady, living with her mother on an estate
Oq the con5nea of the Province of Poseii and Silesia, was ac-
<ustonaed. while riding through the neighboring villigi^. to
distribute among the children small Poliah catechf&ms and
'feaiders- Her brother was a slud«nl ai the gymrasium of
Oitrowo, and was to pass his final examination at Knster, [905,
A few months previously, being at home for hJs holidays, he
iod« out with his sialer, who, as usiia^L had her pockeis lull
ol books, In the course of their ride they i^ios^cd min Sili?9ia,
tnd The young lady distrlhuied her books among some childr<n
there. Her brother naturally oAslated her, and ihey returned
VOL LXXXIl-'^^
i
Mode UN PERSECUTfOX.
home» never dreaming of ihc consequences. ShortI)' afler-
iiV4rcJ£ a flmaU local German paper published an indiynanl pto-
test, crying out, as is u^ual with the Germans, about th« im>
IDinencB of ihe "Polish dan^-cr." This lime it showed itself
n the shap? of catechisms and readers, dinribuicdH oh, horrcrl
hy a student of a. German g^rnnasLuiD 1 Soon ftfler. in Novem*
bsFp 1904, his mother's hou!>e was mvad?d by severaJ officials,
accompanied by an interpreter, while a detachment of police
occupied the garden. The lattt^r were hidden bchii^d bufhes
and Ucev, refiily at n ^xv^n signal lo prote^^t the ofHdalf from
any danjfcr which tht two laftiev might hrtve prepared for them.
The officiati had been sent 10 find any booke or papers which
ini£ht form the basis for a charge of revolutionary icndeocics-
l""t>r more than ^ix hours, they searched the house, examiring
thoroughly every cupboard in the library, every drawer in the
bad-rooms, every bux in the ganct, and leaving no corner un-
tearched. They confiscated several Polish books, newspapers,
and pamphlctii, whose only olfcnpe was to refer to Polish history
and politics. Both biother anti sister were summoned be/ore
ihc court q\ Jaw and accu&ed of circulating dangerous literature,
ThQ caie wj<4 tried; the youn^ lady questioned by no lenient
judges but as no legal offence could possibly be proved agalnft
either, l}-'>lh were acquitted. Thi^, however, did not plcate (he
lOho^l authorities, who always scire every opportunity lo make
a Tole feeJ the weight of their iron fist. The boy was denied
the riuht of parsing hiG final examinaiton at the <li;e time, and,
In spite of lU that could be done to get this unjust sentence
oommutcdj was kept at school six months longer — no amall
penance for a Tolish boy m Germany. One cannot be sur-
prlied thftt. with su<^h examptcij) ai Prussian tyranny before
their cyea, the Poles should have recourse to slralagcm Jn dis«
tributing bookA. One gentleman, for instance, has told me
thaf hr drops parcrl» ol thrm by the roadside, at places where
the peasant children are accustomed to find their:.
Before concludiftt; this ^hort account of the state of ele-
mentary cfhttation in ihc Polish provinces of Piu5(^ta, ii is
dKntiai to add that the children in some villages ha«-e been
erutljy ilNtrcated by the cchoolmaslcrs because they refus<d to
learn their catechism in German; as, 'ot instance, in Wrescben,
where the protcHtationB of parents resulted in the imprisonment
ol tbc parents for tnonthk The schoolmasters are, lor tbfl
i9t>y]
A Modest Psrssvvt/o:^,
J71
EDOAl pan, Germans ; sonk« arc Toka ; but the lancr &r£ under
constant auperv^Jsion and icriorism, lest, by scime act or
irord. they incur the anger of the inspectors, and thus Io»e
thoir tnean^ of livetihood, Evrn ihfl quietefl and t^ost sub-
m^s^Vf- among Ihtm are han<iicapped by ihc nifTe lacl of be-
ing Poles, A secret order issued la the school inapcctOT£ seme
weeks ago forbids Ihcm ever to appoint a Pole to the posi ol
bead master hi a villajje sclioof. This order includes Ger-
man Cath[j)tC5 with PoHsh wivcSs The Pulbh gchonlnaslers
ve not kll in pe^ce even by their own fireside; they have
been warned, undt^r ihrF&t of ceiiGure, not lo speak Pukish with
thfir families !
1q the higher schoolt, calUd gymnasiums, wh^ch correspond
to tho English grammar schools, the condition oF the I'olifh
pupiU is not enviahle. Not a word of Polish is pronounced In
the school The opportunity t^:* speak Polish durin^^ rccrcalicn
bour& depends entirely upon the good will of the direclor.
TFi« scholars* private lodgings in Town are liable to be searched,
and any Polish book may be confiscated at The diicrelion of
the ?*chool authorities. The boys are forbidden to associate,
t>r even Eo meet together for the purpo^v of studying Polish
literature. A few years ago, the students of tcveral gj mnasi-
uoiB, having farmed such societies, wtre arratgnrd on the
grouiwl that secret saoieiiea are forbidden. Stiicily jpeakrng,
theAc tocLetlc« were secret, (or In order to exUt ihey had to
conceal their being from the gymnasium authorities, but they
ccrtainiy d^d not merit this lit^e of secret society in iLs Ugal
The members, howev^^r, were tried in Thorn and pun-
lihed by sevcraJ months impnsoninent; by the loifciiure oi
lfa«fr right to ftcEvG onty one year au voEunleeTs, instead oJ iwo
yeant a^ common soldiers in the barmcki; and by expu^siofi
from school. And this last is tantamount to inability lo pass
Chv ftnnl Q^anii nation— an abaolulrly neceJttaiy conditioit Tor
entering any profession.
It b Imposfibk to enumerate all the petty occasions when
nationality handicaps a PolUh boy at school, In order to hsvc
Bomfi idea of ihis we must remember: firsi, that all the gym-
i^Aiiucn profctiora^exccpt the priests uho teach religion^Hre
Gematts, Any Pole vho takes up this proresKion is sent ofl
lo the Western G<Tman pr<jvin(r&: srccndly, that to a Gciman
protetspr — as in fact to any rcprcaentalive of authority anKiti^
37»
A Mon£R.\' pERSCCUTfOn,
[D^c,
the Polet— the reputation of a zealoua persecutor \s one of tVt
guAfintei^s of advaiicemt lit and promotioiT,
In his speech ihe Emperor coniinucs: "1 repeat that every
Polish Catholic ^houlft know that I respect hi» religion, and
that he ihail And (10 obstacles in luLJilling hb rcligicut dutit^;
but that, on his pan, he should respect olhcr cr«rda, juftt a:
v< know how ir> refpect hU *' The Emperor William seems to
ftndcrxtand the word "respect" In a very onc-«idcd way.
Ccrlmnly. ii « rcli^toys creed is ever rrady Id obry hi* ucrd
of comtnind, and serve bis views, he will allow it to breathe,
but not to grow and develop independently and get beyond
the control of his government, Ceilajnly, if one takes the ex-
pr«Hloa *'religiaa" Iji a purely fuper^cial sense, the Emperor
is tight, Th« Polei may hear MasA and receive the ±acrament»
without intrrfefenec. An open persecution of the kind implied
is not ol the twentieth crntury^ end uiould draw \hc indigna-
|MJ0A of the whole world, whether Catholic or not, upon ihe
Gernuoi and the Jvtnperor, who is ever anaioua for pubtic ap-
pro tiation.
But baaide* church goin^, a Christian has other moral du-
tlM. To the PoJieh populaijon the»e duties &rc made difficult
J|y.tih* W4nc. not only of instruction, but of a certain moral
htfintlon which children in other countries receive at school,
but of which, as we have seen above, FoliEph children are de-
prived. This wiint shoitkl and could be supplied by religious
liiitrucllon, but the Vrussinn government interferes and handi-
r«pi ihe Church. Religious inttruction, in rural districtt, it
noi lift to tha priettls, but la con^ded to the achoolmafter^,
Ritti Impartvd In German, H«rvf, agAin, the deadlock repeals
hi'lfj lh» (jjiUdfcji do not understand German, They might as
m%\\f Ihttafore, not learn their catechism at all ^ leain it in
Ihal ianjcuagOT The preparH-iiitm for the satramenis. at least, i«
|sf4 Id |b« ptieili; but what can one parish priest do with 4
Mifmaiou* data ol children who arc 10 be prepared fot confe«-
lIlM ur CiJ'Uirunion Ln nv months, and who are yet unable
Iff fHA I'olUJi well, because it has not been taught them at
■lll#litf Thay know their catechism only in German* but do
fltll UniUflMnd a word of it. The law introducing retigioua
Ul^lil'tf in German ii recent, and is being applied little by
\\\%U. A« fall thireforo, ita rcaulia are not openly apparent.
Ntfl Id iiMUr Ki ll'^P the disa^troua nature of tbat law, we
\
i90S.
A MODER.W r£liSECUTIOi>'
371
iifd only pLciure the £tAle of ihitigs (jftecn ycarfi hence, wTitn
■''^neration ivill havi.- b?vn brought up under xX.
To men up. PoUsh children Are nol taught tt school to
f*ari Polish, They are Uughl German undrr fuch a fty&Iem
thai ihey cannot learn it. In spile of (h[s ihey sludy caie-
chiacn by rote In German, ^krhkh amounts to not stud^itng it
it ill. And, aa a retult of all thca« laws and ruks, we now
ice a generjifton comienined to grow up in utter ignorance^
vJEhodC fdigiou? instruction or clci-atir^ influence.
That portion of the Emperor's speech which foLIows the
parai>rqph about religious Eoleration is characteristrc, 9vA re-
quirei no comment. It speaks for itself. And we will pass
to the dcsciiplion of his interview with Pope Leo XLII. It
r must be remembered, first of all, that even the German Calh-
^^Kojfc press asserted that whatever (he Pope's promises were,
^Wuiey were not unconditional, and that they bound the Em-
I peror -ik well as the Church. Gtrmania even cast a douht
upon the authenticity of the conversation. It Is strange, in-
deed, chat no one should have heard about il until now.
As to the reproof which Wiliiain II. seems Xo convey undir
thi« allusion, it falU completely flat befoic the firt that the
Poles do not use any but the moat ra^wful means to defend
tfieir religion and naiionaliry from llie ccasele&G aggresiion of
the Prnsfiian Government. In fact, the present Archbishop has
Kone so far, in hts wtllingnc&s to conciliate, that he ha» dis-
aAlif^fied moat nf his Hock, by consenling, for instance, to the
ciccree of religious instruction in German.
From a Catholic's point of view the rr<ttesiant Government
•Of Geriiiftny ha", indeed. Jar too much influence in ecclesiaEtical
*ifla[r< This influence 15 felt, without ticubr, in a much more
p^intut ind harmful manner in the |-^iL$tern Polish Catholic
provinces than in the Western German provinces, because na-
ti<>nAl pefAeciiiion can be, and is, cxercticd over the Poles also
through the medium af the de'Ey- "^^^^^ may. in time, under-
mine the contcientiouanesft and absolute integrity of the clergy,
and eveniiiJilly estrange them fmm the people, who, till now,
have had complete confidence in their priefTS- The Govern-
ment has a voice \n every ecclesiastical ekclior. Wlun a
l^arish becomes vacant^ and the patron singles out one of the
catidldates^ anLl the bUhop nuncilons the election, the Govern-
lUat may atilL exertitte its veto- It is clear that> by a, repeti'
374
--: Mvirt^/tS*' PmcS&CVTiON.
tD«..
ttof) of chifi proceeding. th« Governm«ni can always eveAimlly
pUcv ilG own cajididattr.
The choice of the mcmbert of tbe Chapter* i« also, to
AOOae cxunt, in ch« hands of ihc ftuthcfltlctH Every alurnBC«
month of the year is a so-Gallcd gavprnmrnial taonth. Acy
canonry which becf»mcs vacant in (he coune of one of ihesc
months U at the dt&posal of the Government. Thuc, di^pio-
portioTiately. many members of the Chapters in the Polish
provmoGE are Germana, Tfie selection ol an atchbl&hop Js, of
course, the prerogative of the Chapter; but that selection
ntiiat pri^cced in the fi^Uouuiug manner: the Cliapter seleds
three candidate^: from Ihete the Government selects its choice
for Ehc archbishopric. The approval of the Holy Sec muil,
of course, be obtained. But if none of the three candidates U
agreeabEe To the Government, it rejects them all, and the elec-
tion must recommence^
The absence of all convents — except such Sisterhoods a*
nujse the sick — ^nd monasteries is also a heavy grievance to
which i>i\\y the P<>ti^h Catholics mu^t now submit in Germany.
To all the other provinces convents have been readmitted ; but
not to the Polish province of Posen* And it is here thai re-
ligious orders, of mF7n especially, would be eKCcedingly hclp^
iul| because the closure — for thirteen years, during ihe AW/jrr-
kumpf — of all the seminaries, thinned the ranks of the secular
clergy, which is, even now, scarcely numerout* enough to fill
all the vacant posts,
Wc see then that the Hmperor scarcely Iuls the right to
assert that he respects Lhe Catholic religion, espcciaily anienu
the Poles. All these ecclcsiasticaf arrAn^cmenls were negotiated
betMreen the VaKcan and the iVussisn Government after lh<
KnUarhampf. But when the Pope allowed the Government to
mix in ecclesiastical alTain, he certainly did not mean to
sanction all abuses; or lo deliver up the Polish psrt ol his
flock to the mercy o£ any cppresfor; or, by any promise given
to the Flmperor, to tie their hands and foibid them uoder
honor t"> use -any means i.^f defence.
We have mentioned bdcfly the principal poinia of the u-
tional and religious situation in Prussian Poland, but we have
not by any means exhausted the subject. In fact, if we en*
deavored to go into all the details of thi» situation* the matter
would be inesEfaaustlMe, We will therefore enumerate uol
I
lome striking features, which may noi perhaps he clasdficd
under the heading of either intolerance or religious persecu-
tion, but whieh wiLl serve to prove that *' GermantKaEron " ia
not altfiys and cveryiyhcre synonymoya with "culture," ind
"frceclom for every one."
The right o( expelling undesirable foreigners from the em*
pire is exercised by the Prussian Governinent against Poles
from Austria and Ku&si^ with incrcdibte frequcrcy. In the
time f>l Bismarck forty thousand, principally laborer!, who had
fetlkd here, were driven cut in the epace oi thrre months,
As laborers are s,cdrce in Prustiaj] Poland, the landed propiJe-
lors are compelled to bring them from Russian Poland and
Galiczan But they may not keep them for more than six
months. A Piilish country gentleman Utely requested permifi-
lion to introduce laborers from Russian Polarid. He received
the curt reply that he had laborers enough! Country squires
who possess land here, but who are not Prufisian subjects, are
under a perpetual menace, and at the leai^i ill-humor of the
local bureaucracy may be deprived o( the pleasure of inhabit-
ing their houses, which by every right belong to them. Ex-
amples are not wanting wherein this was the fate of the quiet-
cit and (east enterprising persons, who are obliged, henceforth,
to crave special permission for every day that Ihey wUh to
spend on their property In most casefi this eventually com-
pels them to sell it.
AnoEher abuse widely practised IS the disposal of the elec-
toral districts in such a way as to assure therein a majority
«l German voters. Instead of dividing a certain number of
Vtllages^of which some are Polish and some German, but
where the Pcljsh population is in excels — into two electoral
disLri^t^ forming natural geographical groups, in both of ^vhich
the Polish majority would elect a Pole, the authorities form
only one electoral district of all the Polish villages, and a sepa-
rate one of all the German villages, even if the latter is geo-
graphically very small. In this way the Poles arc deprived of
llirir second reprcscntalive, and ore is assured In the Germans,
who without this tnclc would have been unable to elect any,
Tho poet&l service js al^o a medium for constant trlvUJ
pcnecution- Two o^ccs have been recently established, one
iri Poven, the other in Bromberg, their avowed object being the
tfAnsUtioQ oC all addresses incomprehensible to ihc ordinary
3T6
A modbkh.' PeitsecvrtOff.
[I>«.,
flortinj{ clerks. But It ts rcmarkabk that all languages seem
lo be intclllg^ibU to ih« postal otHciaU except Polish aloof,
the native taiigu&gc of the country. I have Itnown of a Idler
:LLlilrcB»r;fl in SpanisJi t" Posen, with even the nsmc o\ the
»trcct written in Spanish, arrive at its destination quite s&fely
an<l without delay; while hundreds of letters addrtt&ed tn Po*
lish have been considerably retarded by beirg sent to rhe
■' translating" otficea. Here, a* in all things *n Fruealan Po*
Und, the PolUh public h utterly at the mer^y of the iciiil)
local ol^cial^, on whose caprice depends the safe delivery of
the mails, and who know full well that no transgre^fsion oc their
part wiJl be punished by the higher authoiities. It i; inier-
ostLti^^ to note that the officials in the Eastern Provinces arc
all Germans except a lew paaima^lcrs tn small village). Thit
is net caused by any scarcity of Polish applicants, but by the
unjust And paitial way In which a German is always advanced
to the detriment of his Polish rival. The latter never has a
fair chance to rise in the ranks of any government •crvi<e,
even though he show the greatest capabilities. Poles who en^
ter government service are scut ofT to Western Germany, «9
in the ca^e, already cited, of gymnasium professors. The Gov-
crnoient haa aUo strengthened its hold over the officials em-
ployed in Poland by instituting a special fund at the irrespon-
sible disposition of the provincial governor,
"It is your duty. Gentlemen of Uie Chapter, to realixe
these words of the Venerable High Priest, thai good faith
should not be hroleen, after his flcath, with the German Km*
peror.'* These were the actual words of William II. to the
ChMptci of Giiesen Cathedral- The perusal of this hasiy sur-
vey of Germano -Polish relations in Prut^ia WiU, 1 hope, enable
the retderiof The Catholic Woki-f to meuure the audacity
of this royal injunction. " German i nation is Protcstaniiiatioti,"
was the motto of the celebrated Catholic leader, Schorlinnmer
Abt, and became the watchword of the Centre in the days of
the Kulturkamp/. Among the nations of the world there arc
feMT Willi whom Cathmlicism ts such an inlrgral faeior in na-
tional life as with the Poles- Even at present, among the ua-*
oddcated clas&e}, the word " PolUh" It jynocyttoua iftith
"Catholic." Confivc)uentIy, there is no doubt that the future of
PoUfh nationality in Prussia is one of cnplEat importance to
the Church- The victory of the Government over the Poiish
1905.] The Sacristan. 377
element would be che victory of Proteatantiam, On the other
hand, the Poles are now Jn Jmminent danger of being thrown
inio the arms of the anti^ religious sociaJiatic party through the
common interests created by a long strife against their com-
mon enemy, the Government.
That is why I consider that this bitter struggle carried on
to dav in the Eastern Provinces of the Kingdom of Prussia
deserves the attention of every thoughtful Catholic, whatever
bis nationality. With the outcome of this struggle, which aome
—and they arc either uninformed or dishonest — would call
purely political, rests the religious and moral future of three
millions of Catholics.
THE SACRISTAN.
From every outpost of our battle seen
As on a hill, the swinging seniryTfiame
Lightfooted comes and goes, since it became
First of Thy Kingly Tent the guardian keen;
And night by nightn and all the hours between,
Set votive there unto thy conquering Name,
Field-lilies lean against tlje Tent, the same
Thou lovedst when Thou wert a Nazaiene.
Lord, if I bring Thee flowers and Gre, behold
In Ihem my symbol and my counterpart;
Yea, listen to the lilies well, for these
Are my breath towards Thee in the silences.
And that lone lamp that in the dark grows bold,
The foolish bright sad dicker of my heart.
ANNUNZIATA.
[N Italy thts happcn&d : in a tiay lown ofi the te*-
chore» where the men »tc brave &nd lh« woroea
benutiful. Th« ntcn lhcr« are ^i fishers, earning
ihpir daily breftd in a con^tani Ziand-to-hATtd
ttrugglc with the irrschcraus sea. The women,.
wilh thetr dark eyes and brown. glowiME omplrxions, a com-
bination of sea uTid sun. stay at home and discutis Ibcr alTairs ol
theJr Utile wr^rld,
To'day the sea is aa blue as the shy abovc« and we who
love Italy know bow blue that is; the liny ripples — fit pluy-
lellows for a babe, so gentle arc they — break on the shore witb
a faint tinkle ihit sounds liLce fairy sleigh-be^ls, while away ou
on the horizon the sea and &ky meet in a glimmeTing haic that
is (itithcr ir^ay nor blue, but an cKquUile blending of both-
Harmless and inn^^cent as a child at pUy the sea seems to-
day, but ask the dark-skinned children Sporting In the pools
left by the receding tide, their few clothe* iwiEfed up ooi of
the water's reach— even they can leli you tales, heart-rending
tales, of the sea's malice^ The women could point to the many
candles burning before the altar in the little church, each «
prayer for a loved one'i return. Hut the tnen^jt iii useless to
ask the men — they would only shrug their sbootders or raUc
one eyebrow^ and say that the sea wa£ ittir very good frieoiL
For they are superstitious, Iheis? fine sailors, and what j» the
u^e of making an enemy of one in whose power you arc d&il>^
aIntoM hourly j
Rut I, who hav« spent many days in this tiltk seashore
corner of the world, and who am not dependent on its bouQiy,
caa tell you of sudden gales that iweep across the Mediterraneaii,
and in an instant's time transform the blue, dimpled wate
that to-day serve only as a mirror for the sky— -into a black,
heaving mass, terrifying to look upon. We have only to count
the tali while crosses in the churchyard, to appreciate what a
monster the $ea is when he is roused, and how much he cait
1
I
<90S]
Aiifi^'Vt/ZiArA.
379
devour when his appeiTic is kctti, I. loo, hAv« FcIt hia hai«,
and soiDotioics, Jike these men, fear liis milicc^
LiitLc Kicola, with the Ion gt brown legs » who has been talh-
iag to me in his pretty, hroken English, U an orphan now.
His father'^ boat w&s overturned in 4 fquall the day alter I came,
Nicola'^ mothei^with her b]uc-black braids and ^rCftl, iail cyea*
«4t by me at Masb yeat«rd«y morning, and I wished to ask her
not to let Utile Nicola be a fisherman when he grew up, but
to kv«p him by her; only I knew it would be qmle useless,
for bere all other means of livelihood are looked down upon-
It i« a diagra^e for a man to give up the sea when hia lather
And hi» father's father gained (heir living by it. So, from gene-
ation to generation, they are lishetmer^, and are lost — and their
SODS grow into men and take their pUccs, aiwl are lo«t in
their turn. There are few oEd men [n the town. I have seen
only two, but of old womc^n^I am sure there muse be a 8core.
So you see it would have been qmie uaelefs to speak to Nicola's
rraothcr. I couW only ^hut tny f^yc% and pray, and try rioi to
s«e her sorrowful face.
Th«re are and faces wherever one turns ^ they are takeen aa
^ matter of course, " LiEp is Life." say these folks with a shrug,
*■ the good God gives us eternal happmess a£ a reward." Dear
K>«op]c — -ihcy deserve it ! ^'et their lives are strangely hnjipy
^vfore the sea claims it« victim. Their naturca are funny and
^ ^ight a& their own clime. They love deeply^ passionately ; am
^ re tru« ■□ iif« A'i in doaih. A second marriage i^ rate atn<>n^'
^ t^em, and is looked upon somewhat as a disgrace. Disgract—
^^^hat wa call dit^ace in the world — is not known here. At
'■^ait, 1 have never heard of it, and I know raon of their his-
^ ^i^rwfi and a number fif ihcir ^ecret^r It la. in their eye. the
'^^ vipardonabLe sin. Theft — even murder — 1 have been told about,
vid they have many smuggler's tales ol which, I am afraid,
t^ey make a boasC^for they are not saints, (hese children of
t^c old wnrld— bur of the other I have never heard a whispcr.
My apccial friend In the viLlag« is Annuniiata, 1 have
^^ «iown and loved her ever since she was a winsome ^crap of
^^ umanity' — aged si^^whcn I <\i\ wondeHulEy shaped dolla out
^^f tay be« note paper to coniole her for her father's losa.
^-^oth Ikc and hr-f grandfather, one twenty-eight years and the
^^ ther fifty, had ?ail?d away ore nmming and had never re-
^xjmed. To'day Annunziata Is a tall maiden oi seventecsr^^
t
b
38o
ANftUNZIA TA.
[D«C..
and wh«ii I Wrtccli her al the /ssta, with her snow/ linen and
brlfhl bodke and skin, or when she tomes rfown to ihe shore
to wait for the boAtft, I think ah« i« the mott bcautlfcl pklcr«
ui &tL beautiful Italy- Her mcther, Maria Dclore$ — a.E she U
called lo distirkguUh her from all (he other MarUs — \i Mill
ft hunciifoine woman, though sorrow and work have marked bur
face with tines ihai hiv« cut loo deep for beauty.
'* Dofina Lisa," Anniinziala said ye^tenTay^shc caice in
juBC as I waa getting my eaacl ready '* Donna Lisa, 1 love
you very dearly- May T go with you and watch you paints"
Now Iherr^ aiv few ihfngs I dislike more than having some
one walch me while 1 work, but could any one fefuEo a re-
quest prefaced by "I Jove you dearly"? I could col, lo
Annunxiata went and I did wretched vork. 1 am not sorry,
for the ^umnier is juat beginning, I had not seen AnrtmzUia
through all the long winter, and she had jo much to tell me.
Her mother wants her to marry big AleEsandro Ltcca, who
owns hrs own boat and has two boys to help him, and at! thiv
before he U twenty. When I a-kcd her if Uie loved him, the
ahook her head coquctlishly. ker eyea. all the while, holding
so much lunEhine that they well nigh daicled me.
1 had thought she eared for Alc»andio, and ttiat U wa»
for his boat that she waited.
"He \m very handsome, Annunxiata/' I urijed, to. 1 WA»hvd
in thp background of my sketch.
"Yes. Signora ; I know," she anawcred. her white teeth
showing between her red Itpe. "That ia what avtry one
Mys."
"And — ■' I went on, feeling like an old mercenary match-
maker — * he i* rich — he Zus mcney put away/'
"Ah, Signora," the girl answered again, "money la not
everything/' M
I put down my brush and stared at ihc child. She had
turned away, but I could see the color mounting to her cheeks.
Then it came to my stupid old brain, liut who could It be? ■
I picked u|> my brunh and prcTended to work induairiously.
"But you always danced with Alcasandio oflcner than wiih.
any one else," I retorted. f
No answer — though her cheeks still looked like twin roses-
" At the /tita, you know/' I repealed Mupjdiy, "you al-
ways dance with him/*
IW-)
ANNUNZiATA.
381
^' Ht dances so weTl," she urged in extenuation. "I could
DDl help it,"
"AnnuniiaU — " I began, En my eitcitemcnt foTeeKirg *II
ibuui my piclure and turning arcund so quickly ihat \\ nearly
wens otfer^*' I hftve always thought — yes, and hoped^that
70U tad AI«J4an^ro would marry. ani3 now you are going to
djfippomt inc. He is A good aon and will make you a good
biisban^. He is liandsome, wdUio-do, Add-^lovrs you. And
you ought 10 love him — " I finished weakly,
"1 know he ha^ all ihe viriuea, but stlEl 1 do not love
I stared hopelessly acrois the blue waters. There was really
noEhing more to be saidn I could not in conscience urge a
Wcles9 rnarrlfige,
"ll 15 Buch a P^ty." I Eigbed. " Don*l you ihitik you
MUld Jearn lo love him^"
"No, SignorA"; she answered firmly, *" I am sure of It,"
Of course she loved aome one else. 1 was sure of it now,
K^cit: why (ltd she not tell me? It could not be Stcfano. be
wia tou old, xwit Matteo, he was too ugly, I wonder if it
could be Fclipe-^with his merry tongue, always singing and
■^B l>eauliEut as Apollo— but a sad good-for nothing. Sure-ly,
iur«ijy It could not be he. I looked at Annun^iata with a
'»rld of intjuiry in my eyes,
■•What i» it, Donna Lisa?" she questioned, as if she had
1 Suspicion of my unspoken query.
"Surely." I began, "it \^ not Felipe?"
"Xo, no, Stsn^ra, What made you thinlc of bim?'* End'
■'^S with a merry laugh at the very thought of ^I.
"Because he is so beautiful," I answeredn
**But, Slgnora," she drew herself up very straight and
^^^kcd far away, a new light dawning in her eyaij " th« man
' ^c>ve is not bcauliJnl." It was very simply said,
"Who i» he. Annunziata ? "
She heiiuted a moment and then — the light still in her
*l'Cji.>-.iold me-
" Marco Sanlo."
^ "Marco Santol" I repeated like a child leari^ing a Icston.
^^arco Santo!" Why it WAV [inpo»«ibiB. Annunaiala love
7^^^ — marry him T It wna nonsenBt, Like many aticihcr, ihe
^4 tnUt&kcn pity for lovct I^ut, lor «11 my aMoaithmfnl and
jaa
ANNOtiZfA TA.
"Lore
dismay, T could not make her repent of her word*.
comes of itself, Signora," %he femarked wistly.
"And Maria Doloic« — ycur mother — ^hat does she tay?"
" Like you< Signora — ' Impossible/ " She unconsciousty im-
ilaied her mother's voice.
I could not tell the child all the ihoughts thai came crowd-
ing into my braiTi, 1 could only say- — as I washed my bni&hes
and gai«d disheanened ai ihe wrctchid ftork I had done —
*' Another day^ Annumtata, we wJU lalk about this. Vou have
cvrprified me v«ry much. I must think it over. You know I
lotfc yoit and have yonr happiness ai heart."
" I thank you, Sigoora," she murmured, nnng to her feci.
"I shall be happy, never f?ar, He \% not a sailor," she said
almost deliantly - and befure \ could ftn.swer, ahe had slipfked ■
away
No, he is not a sailor. I thought angnly. He Is too frail,
tot) puny, too delitatc to wrcfit a living from the tcii, Amon);
the sturdy fishcr-folk he seemed a being apart, From hi* very
birEh he had a horrof of (he £?a; never playiug in it aa th«
other children did, screaming with fright \i a wave but toucl>cd
his bare, brown toes. Not even now, ^hen he was a gtovkn ■
man, had he overcome this ^reat avcrsicu. The trade he had
chosen^ while honorable and worlh>, and at which^ — it mutt be
acknowledged— he had made a ?uccc;b, was looked down opoD
by these Jtahan fishermen, When one can love and marry a
brave» good-looking fi&hcrman, brorted by the sun, fearless ai
the ^ca, ^nd stto]>g aa the elements thcm^elveE, it does cot
aeem right to choose a wealr. white-faced boy. who dares rot
BO much as even sit in a boat,
I picked up my traps and started for home^ Acnunaiaia
deserved a good scolding nnd I should have given her one.
To love a shoemakf^r instead of picturefque Alessandro, wilb
his scarlet kerchief knotted around his brown throat! It was a
delight to see him bring hU beat in over the wave?, standing
upright in the bow; hi« body swaying wtih the motion, whU«
bis strong arms skilfully wielded the unhandy oar It waa no
delight, no pleasure to see Marco make £ho»1 True be al-
ways bowed with a pleasant ^' Good morning, Signora," whca
I passed his ihop, and if 1 chanced to stop for a moment's
ehat, the color wotild fly to his pale cheeks, and his brovit
eyes grow luminous when 1 talked of hi« tieloved " P«tria-"
I
im]
ANNUNZtA TA,
ifij
Bm he bcirely reached ro A nriiin Plata's shapely shoulders, i*biJe
AiMi»ndro lowered above her.
] met Ma-ria Dolofe^ tlic next day as f waii passing the
pidft's house. "The good man *as down at Ihc beach help-
ing the fishermen wilh their nets." she lold mc. She had wJahed
to Atlc hU advice and, not finding him, asked mirc.
"Was iX. not impussTble, quite impossrWe. for Annuniiata to
owry ^shoemaker?" Ultcr conteropt maTked her duleet voice.
Annun^lat^'^ JoveJit cyca fcjhc before m?. I hesitated, and
ihin hedgeil stiamefullV'
"You do not like him. Maria Dolores?"
"Not like hrm has nothing to do with Iho maUer- He is a
ihtfcmakcr and all the Galdi have married seamL-n/' The darlr
eyei grew threatening, "Annunziata shall not marry a shoe-
maker"
" Ke might become a s^\\qt," I ventured; though 1 knew
^uw impossible this was.
'* Marco bceome a sailor! " Her voice grew shrill, as only
tUlian voices cait, "Do you not know, Sipnora, thai he has
* horror of ihc sea? His father was drowned and his mother
"'God r«»t her soul? — found his body on the shore. Then the
^^y waa born, and he had a horror of the eea."
t rcmcinbcrcd that 1 had heard the siory. So hi* dread of
tbe n^jL wa« constitutional ; an inheritance from his grief- stricken
'^^ther. The (ir«t throb of pity ] had felt for Annun^iata's
i;nos4?n lovrr ihrll [cd tuy hrart
'• Annun^iata hag always cared for him," Mada Dolores went
*n rapvdiy, "When they were children together she took care
'^f hici and shielded him when the other childftn — little tmpi- —
*"^y tanghed ar him, hiii to marry him — " Maria Dolores
^Uftped h«r hands and called on all the saints of the Church
'^ preicrve her beloved daughter from such a fat«.
I fear the diftUttefed mother found me of lifHc comfotf, for
di^j but listen, nodding my head in sympathy, and promiae
"^t 1 would speak to Annunxiaia.
Almost n week passed before I could fulfil my promise*
^^riunc^ata seemed to avoid me, if such a ihing were possible,
*«<?!) on«niorninj; I hcwid her step on the stair- "* Annunxi*ta,
™**> I" I cried. " What ages it \% since I ha^'c siren you. Come,
*'^ down, and I will tell you how I have missed you/'
"A thouMcd thanki, Signora." »he answend^
314
AASl'A'JC/ArA.
[Dec,
Her manner was constrained and lU at ase- She was fiO
longer the Jjght- hearted, happy girl whose very preceiice wAA
a j(>y, liet eyes Ict^ked heavy with much weeping, and the
twin roscE had faded from her chceka.
"What U the mitler, dearest." I atkcd anKiou^ly; Jof, in
fight of such storm signals, (q pretend waa impossible,
"Macco will be a tailor 1*' She dropped od her knets.
buried her fact in my lap, and burat into teats.
Annunxiaia crying f AnnuniUta, y,-ho was ulvnys happiness
personified, whose merry Uugh had chased Irom my threshold
many a gobim dicssed in blue. An angry Annunniala, enraged
at her nioIheT's opposition. I had expected; but 1 had never
looked for tcarfl- Tears are only ^at the poor in spirit.
Gradually the ^obg grew le» violent.
"It i« sad, Srgnara, nothing could be sadder. Marco —
whose horror ol the sea is kn^wn to all — Marco has become a
aailof 1 "
Here the sob? threatened to get the belter of her agaJn,
but my face of amaiement, together witb an astonished cry ol,^
"Impossible, Annuniiaia!" brought her back. ^|
"Not impossible at atl, Signora," with a little touch of dig-
nity, " It is only too real. He heard that the Gatdi never
niarned any but biilorK^-and he said if that was all that stood
in the way. he too would become a sailor."
" Annuniriata. it is all fonh^bnesa. He is Ion frail for such
work. B»ide». be dreads the sea!*'
" Y«s j that J5 ImC} Signora. Bui. what can one do? It is
no use. He goes. Our Lady and all the satnis pray for him l
And may God bring him back to me in safety 1" she added,
making a reverent sign of the cross that wa» a prayer in
Itself.
"Dearest child," I auswercd^ laying my hand on the hesd
that was bowed ^ain ovei my lap, " Marco has no boat, and
who would take him? He know^ iiaught of the sea- He muHt
not risk his Hfc. Let him keep to his work, of that he knows-
plenty.'*
"Yes. Signora, he does indeed'*; her tear< stained fac«
looked proudly up at me. "He has titade enough by his work
to have money in the bank, and — and — he will buy ft boat."
The sobs again became unmanageable.
"Nonsense, child; you must stop himi" 1 retorted sh4rp>
I
i*>s.l
Ar^NUNZiATA.
3^5
ly. " Hp And his money wtjiild tn>ih be last. Why, tbc niAn
ia cia^y ^ )1f ntighi a^ wrlJ )ump into ihc sra und be <loiio
rith It" My Indignation increased as the picture of MAreo
tfosQ bofore me with his haunting fear of tlic wal«r. " Why*
^what wt^uld he do in a slarni ? Even m fair wraChcr he knowa
Dothing of boats."
"Nothing." Annunziata agreed sadly. "Only he sayt he
wIEl sail first with Siefano. When be [cams— Iheri he wiM tiuy
ibrf own."
This was pulling ofT ihe evlE day lor a IJitle while, at leasT,
[ Ivied to make Annunziata see; though I wa; amazed Ihat
Swfano would employ « weakling like Marco^
]e wad. If I remember rightlyi the next day that 1 &aw
Haroo. I met him at I was trudging home after an aflernoon'fi
work. I was not in the heat of ntoods» and when V heard ihe
l&ft Italian accents — "May I carry the Signora's box?" and
turning, saw the slight figure hurrying after me— my temper
rWaa not improved If I had been gentle with Aimunaiata 1
«ou^d not spare M^rco. So, without stopping, I refused his
effer with a few words of thanks, and continued on my way,
aven quickening my paee.
" The Stgnora is offended?" the voice went on.
"Yea"; I replied, "The Sigiiora i= offended/'
**Bat, Signora/* be pleaded, with a cUsp of his hands, and
tn a tone of tningled despair and exultationn "I love Anniui-
^liata, and — *' the cNaltalion predominated now — *' Annuiixiata
jves me."
"I know* 90 »he has loEd me>" 1 answered in as crisp a
>ne a« I knew how to tiae, "But Annunziata is young and
'tfie may mi!itake — other Icelingii — for love-" 1 had intended
to aay "pity," bat my courage failed; he looked so absurdly
unhappy,
" Ah— Si^ynoraT I hope not." The color Aoodei his face
and I knew he had r«ad my mcanini;.
"Well," I went on ruthlessly, "Maria Dolores will not con-
and you know Annunziala will never marry without h«r
tber's approval."
"We will wait/' he answered. "Our Lady ia good and
l« nay soften her heart some day."
b it true you have become a sailor?" I asked, looking
[•croB CO where the dca lay shimmering in the twilight.
386
AXXUNZiATA.
(!>««..
"Tcs, Signora"; ho answered simply,
I thought as he fotlowed my gJance ftctOfi« the sliiniii^
WAlcr that tic shivered sli^^lly.
"I begin To.morrow," he contiflu^d, "Th«rc \a Stefano'ft
bo4t Gontin^ in now. I go with him — just at fifsl," he added.
"Will you not wish me g^ood luck^"
The appeal wd^ so direct that 1 coiald but murmur "good
iuckp" in a half audible tonc^
^'Thanks,a thou^nd thanks, SignotaT' ThU with a courte-
ous bow as he Mt mc at thr Aot^r of my little houAv.
Had 1 not aTways fell so posUtve thai AmiunxUta would
marry Alcssaodro, I mighc have become rccojic i led to Marco;
but matchmakers do not like their plaoK to mlKarry-
Junc and July were always wonderful monihi in lhi» lilllo
comer of the world* but this eummer ihcy were turpassixtsly
boutlfuh Long, golden day» they gave, each one more beau-
tiful- Karlh, »ca, and sky aecmed joined in a trinity of bcaQtjTi
Marco had sailed with Stefano and each d«y had couie
home in i!tafety \ thnu^h Jl was fumortd among !he |;^ciaArfi»
that on the Arst day be had fainted. Stelaao stouily denied
thJK, and :io one dared to queation Mareo. t ihoughc the am
was bentficting hiTn* and* In a measure, making a man of him.
He loolee4l brown and less delicate and htfl shrinking look had
departed- But AnnunsSata aecroed pale and worried, her cy<»
Inst their old confidence.
** Annun^iata," I said one day wheji we met on the beAcli
*-ll was lime for the boats and the girl was scanning the
horizon^" you have come of a race of scamen-^-ti la not rt|;ht
to worry so. Marco is in God's caie."
"Ob, Signora ! that is what I telJ myself constantly; but
it \a of no uae- [ cannot help it. Do you think Ihat i« hi»
boat?" 5bc u^ked, pointing to a tiny speck that to my eyea
looked as much like a bird a& a boat,
"Indeed, child, 1 cannot tell- It is a fair diy acd there is
no danger,"
•* Signora — *' she tyrn^d 1o me earnestly-—" I never wanted
to marry a sailor, and now^ — I am very unhappy, and unleat^
ah, that it hifi boat t " All the unhappineas had gone now and
onc« more she was my Amundata, with the twin rotes and
dancing cye^
Sii day after day paa£ed. Uaria Dolorea had, mean^bil^
I
I
»9«>5-]
A.y.y(/^^/ATji.
5«7
coaienlcd conditionally to the match. "When he aaiis his
omn boat," she had saLd^ aud Lhat was to he in the following
Marco had been sailing For two months now, but Annun-
liata's Ictr instead of growing teas only intrcaEcd. She con-
ceikd it from ev<?ry one save me; and I, knowing the terror
thht WAB always in her heart, pitied her more and inor« as
tbc summer went by.
Then came that terrible day in AugurC. It had been fair
and bcaolilul aa all ibe days that had gcine btiore, (hen hhc a
fla«h came the &torm> The sea changed from a trirror to a
mteUtrum, tit an Insianl the shoie was crowded. I found
Annuniiata itanrlmg dose <o the raging water; and, putting
my arm around her, 1 drew her bftck. She looked at me
without a sign oi recognition, but she did n*>l resist.
*'The bosts saw the siorni coming," I smd, "and have
midc for a safe harbor,"
She «hook h?r head and pointed across the water. I strained
mf eyes and there, oiiiL^ncd Against the darif masses ol clouds,
wtre two fishing boats. Nearer they camct piichirig And toss-
ing on the bkck water. We could £ee now that they were
Alr^^andro*5 and Slelano's boats, Then a cry arose irom Ihe
watching people and I hid luy face, Whtn I dared look again
I could see only one boat. Instantly a living chain was madCr
which reached far out into the water-^the laat man was up to
hi» shoulders in the seething mass.
AictsandrOt when they carried him in. was just able to
>poak. A mournful wail arose as he named two boitts that
hjld CApftijEed when the ^ale ^r»it struck tliem. Of the niher
b»t, atill tosaiDg about outside the line oE breakers, he bad
little hape to give, Stefano had been washed overboard as
they were rmiriing for thr^ harbor, and Mareo had injured his
arm and w» praciJcaily helpless.
I turned from the crowd standing about the rescued nian,
•nd looked out over the waters. The boat was still tossing
tad pitching from aide to «ide If it could only be hrout;ht
inicde the line of breaking waves, a life-line ml^ht be again
farmed and Miirco saved. rtut this seemed tmpo&sihle- U
Al««tandro, with all his &trcngih and knowledge of boati>
buely succeeded in doing ihis^how could Maicc—dlfablcd,
teo-^«v«4k attempt it?
i
I
I looked for Annunxiata^ She wu staadmg. rigid a£ a
statucn litr arms sticlchcd out a& ii lo grasp the boat and draw
it lo safety,
"Can nothing be done? Can you stand here tnd see two
human beings perieh' — almost within reach ot your arois ? " 1
ciicd aloud- '* Surety there are men who wiM risk Eheir lives
to save a friend. Gregorio^you at least will do somQthing^"
Pol the brawny fellow fhook his bead and muttered some-
thing thaf 1 did nor catch. 1 repented □■ my words whcF) hi»
wife-*her baby deftfy lolded in a corner of her shawl — be-
sought me whb te&r£ in hci eyes not to allow him to rick his
life,
'*Ah, Signoral he could do ftothing. Ii would only be
another for the sea to devour"
Ail nl once b clear, ringing voice was heard above the noites
of the itorm : " Courage 1 courage, M&rco ! I am coming T
Courage for a few minutes!"
t started. What did the figure flying up the beach, fol-
lowed slowly by on« or two men, mean to do ? 1 heard a
greil climor-'— voices raised in excited pteadings-^-then I saw
men dragging a boat to the water's edge.
"It is madness — madness!" " Annuniiita has gone mad!"
**It cannot be done f " wg;c the many crlee. " U is too iat«.
We could not reach them in lime."
The women's shrill tones rose like a wail. The men — pro-
testing all the while — helped launch the boat.
The IirsE to step in was Annun^iata. I started forwards-
then drew back. Why not? She was strong and fearkss, aix)
well able to manage a boat. Two men stepped in after her;
she had shamed them into bravery-^-or, perhaps, they lack^ _
but a leader, t saw them cross themselves, a wave caught the |
little boat and it seemed to stand on end. I hid my t&cc ftnd
prayed — for the dead, as I thought.
A gentle hand touched my arm, I looked up, dreading
what 1 was to see. It was Lucia, who hid begged me not to
let her husb>ind go- "Courage, Signora I " she said, *' 5ec !
They are most there."
Slowly the two boats drew nearer each other. How it was
done 1 CEQiiot tell.
"Look, SignoraT" called I.ucia, "all U well. They have
thrown the line. Hc^ivcnsl bo has misMd hi Ah E he bu it
i
IWJ
A:^i^I/N2lA TA,
%%9
ikow; bis Km broken — loo * They are coming backn Slgnora-^
look I Only « Vailt wave— see, ihey ride on top." Ail I could
make out wa« a raging sea wdh huge waves thrcntcning every
infttunt to cncj ^ Jifc that was d<;ar to me^so thaJ, for very
f«r, I hftd CO hide my face.
" All I TiiiHRricordia.! StgnDra I " said Lucia^ in a vo^ce of
dntpaLir; "it i* «11 over The boat has overturned — but- — no —
ao ! they have them. Ah 1 hovr brave is ray Gregono ! "
AgaJii tlie wailing men formed a line hesdrd by strong
Gregorio. and Annuniiatn tirsi. and then the three others, were
C4rri«d in »ftfcly beyond the reach of the terrific sea.
The next day, when th^ sea was blue and laughing in the
*unlight, I stopped Ko abk huw Marco was I loitnd Anniiu-
liau looking pale but so happy that I «nvi«d her. It is not
given to E^ery woman to save from death the man she lovea.
I looked upriri Annunxtatu with an awe that I had never felt
before. Somehow her tove bad passed beyond the common-
pUce of everyday Jife, And had become exalted— -glorified.
When Maria Dolores came to greet me 1 saw that she aUo
rccogniicd that trtith.
"Yes, Signora: Annunitau may murry Marco. The good
GatX wills it, 60 [ gave my consent. Marco goes baek to the
thoemaking- Annunziata iotists/'
October came and found me sttll In my holiday home. I
bvi waited for AnnunriRta's wadding. It took place in the
little church, that was gayly dressed with gteen boughs and
itifl paper now<r«. If the bride ^^-a^ beautiful and stalely, and
the bridegruom pale «nd small — 1 think no one noticed the
diBcrcpancyH for the pcrfcci happineas shining in the ev's of
buih caused all eUc to be forj^oiten-
And if I chanced To glance at tall, splendid Alcstandro
Handing by my side, I had oniy to look a bit further ihraugh
tbe liltle window, where the (Jghl of many ciosfes^grim in
th« glorious nun^hmc— oadc nie Think of ihat figure of de-
spair — xCAcding with arms outstretched to the pitiless &ea —
tad ihank God thit such gi^ief had been only for an hour-
I
For ft few weeks thing« were
comparative I)- quiel in Rufisiai ft
seemtd as if the feformcrs had
Accepted ihe Tsar's concession of A Duma, witb fir«« reluctance,
inde«d, bul with llie hope and the fixed purpose to get tha
D>ost out of \t. The goverDnient was auppoacd to be elaborat-
ing the details and to be preparing for the election cf the rep-
resentatives. Assurances were given by Count Wilie, to metn-
bers ai the Reform party, (hat the Tsar was aincerely de-
sirous of meeting the wishes of the nation. He declared that
the T^ar'^ siron^cat desire iva& to become a constitutional sov-
ereign ; that his ideal was a monaich who ruled over loyal and
loving subjects without the terrible burden of responsibilii)' itn-
posed by an autocratic rJ^iutf, and that the only Teaion why
he hesitated to giAiit a conslitution was because he was not
convineed that the nation really desired one. The disorders \tt
the Caucasus had been so far fluppre^fed Ihat there «sv no
longer any news from thai rejjion-
The Topic most discu^^ed wa^ the probable airangcnitnt ol
an agreement with Great Britain, somewhat on the Ueea ot the
An^rJo-rrench a^^Teement. Writers who had hitherto been bit-
terly opposed to England, and who looked upon her «« Rus-
sia's sworn foe, advocated the new rappt&chemtnt^ It is as-
serted^witb what truth we do not know^that the Bmperor
William had made a great effort to detach Russia from France,
and had even proposed to Kussia an agreement for ihe pani-
lion of the Austrian dominions. The Slavonic peoples were to
become the &hare of Russia, while Germany was to become
the possessor of the parts occupied by the races of Teutootc
blood. Hungary was to be made into an independent prlnct-
palily. These proposals, rf they were ever made, were rejected
by (he Tsar; and the alliance wtih France is to be maintained
as a fixed poiiic of Ru&siaii policy.
In a Manifesto, publiohed on the ratilicatior of the Treaty
with Japan, there appears for the first time the recogtiitfon of
the defeat indicted by Japan: "God has caused our Father-
land to suffer soie trials and blow^ of fate m a sanguinary
war . . < against a brave and mighty enemy." The hope
I
I
I
190SJ
CVRXENT Events.
39"
tor ihe future prospeHty of Ku55Ja. the Tsar dcclama, is to be
looked for from the blessing of God upon hU own Ubors in
conjuftcticiTi with tho^c of the meti dected b/ the pfloplcn
Hut the compftfdtive tjuiet ^^hich prevailed was only the
C4lm before the atorm. The distrust of the government wm
felt by loo m^ny for the nation at large to be willing to ac-
ciepi, even us Jin inslalment, tlic pioffurrd conc«ssion5. tlven
if confidence io the good failh of the officiaia had been £eli—
which was f*f from being ihe case — it was iotrn ieen that
tboM coneevBions ware altogether inadequate. The working
clmcs of the tovvn, and the poor of the villigef, would hftvc
been without reprcficntaiiveB in the projected Dttma. Of peas-
4Q| proprietors only two per cf^nt couTd have become clectora.
Only independcat househoMerSi above tweaty-five years of age,
OOuld hftVR voted in the £rst stage. The elet^tjon wa& to be In
two or three stages; the mombef& ff the Dum/t were to be
dccted by delegates chosen by these few electors. And when
elected, the Dttma w&s merdy a powoflnss Uw-advising aKfiem*
bly. Oat of it3 iiroposals the government could select and
rtalito only those ibAt suited \x.
And *o, while the moderate Reformcri were willifig to ac-
CBpl and make the be&T ol it, gfateful for the principle, as Ihey
were, of election bdnjf recognized in any decree ao ever, the
vast nia» of the people who took an interest in poluical ques-
lions could not bring theniBelvca to accrpL thi^ cuurf^e, They
adopted a niethod of securing decent government hitherto un-
^xacnpEed !n history. TbcoLogians generalty condemn revolu-
tion, but allow passive resistance to iniquitous measure^; as a
rule, however, it has been by revolution of one form or ann
other that tyranny has been overturned. It was left to ilie
Russian people to show how potent an arm the people Ihem-
srlve4 pQa«en In the power of passive resistance without violence.
The movement began by the strike of railway operatives in
If O«eow ; thence tt EpTBad to St, PetersLitfrg ; and gradualiy eic.
Irnded 10 widely that Ru^vla was cut ofT from the rest of the
world : ambaiiadorE bad to depart in fhips \ the mails had to
be entrusted to the good officer of neighboring states; the
Twf himtclf had to be dependent for intercourse with the re«
of Europe upon the wir veiaels of the Kal»er.
Tbe strilce* soon spread 10 various other trades, atid even
horyefK and doctors struck; and soldiers and their oHleera
39*
CURKENT EVK*\TS,
[D«..
filiowQiI Ihrir syniipathy. The number of strikcTs rose to more
ihan one million; in many places the nccetsaries of life were
unattainable. The cltic* vwer« in darkness. The people were
wilJinj; to endure ihe privatious involved for the sake of lh«
hoped-for change in Ihc way of government. In «ome mys-
terious wfty or other the workers were organiied, and thor*
oughly or£:ani£e<i, from one end of the Empire to the olber,
And so widely ihat ihe military were powerless. Exuept in a
vtry tew pUc^a. no barricadet wtre erected and but liule blood
was shed. The demands of the strikers were for ihc calling of
a Constiluent AsBembly io be elected by universal eufTrsge.
To this Convcniion was lo be given ihe power of framing a
Constitution for the Empire. In a few days ihe g'^^'^^'^^'^^
was dismayed, u it might wetJ be; for it had to face a nation
{n pd^i^ive revolt. It was incapable of enforcing even the
semblance of authority. This much is to be aald for it. per-
haps for ihe ftrsL time In Us history, it made no effort to dU-
peree meetings by military force. afthDUgh it threat^nrd to do
t^- Ttie maintenance of order in many places was secured by
committees of public safety' In various cities mock rcpublica
were formed. The nation went on strike, Ihe peopfe stopped
work as a protest ayai»5t misrule, ftji^ainst a succession of bloa>
deri and of broken pledges.
The Tsar, in this coltap&e of the national life, saw the ■>»-
ceiisicy of making fnrther concessions. He issued a Mdnilcsto
by which gbiarantees of civil Liberty arc promised, the suffrage
is exieuded. legislative power is grar^led to ihc Duma, and the
respon^ibiliiy of ministers to it establi&hed^ He says that bit
happiness is indissolubly bound up with the happiness of tb«
poopte, and that the sorrow of the people is the sorrow of the
Sovereign^ The present agitation menaced the safety of ihc
Kmpire. It U. therefore, hU duty to cflaec himself and to
bring the trouble:; lo an end. Accordingly, he grants the pop-
ulation the imriLuldble foundations of civic liberty, batied on
real invlolabiNty of the person and freedom of conaciefKc, ■
speech, union, and a^AOcIation. He e^tabliihct it at an Immu
t^bli? rule th.it no Uw can come into force without Ifae np-
proval of the State Vimi, and the elected of the people ar«
to exercise a real parcicipation in the auptrviiffin of the legality
of the ai:;t« uf the Adthurities appiiiiiled by htm. The suffrage
is extended, but it i* not stated how far this extension goe
I
I
I
I
I905-]
CVBRENT EVKffTS.
J9J
In the pTepsratirin of this Manifesto thr T^ar 1oub as a
guide a Report submitted to him by Count Witie. In ihia
Report the Count plainly £latcd thai the agiuiion in Russian
soct«1y was not the outcome of partia] imperfections in the
socUl and govern me ntaE regime, nor was it the outcome of the
orggnii«d procccdingfi of the exireme elfm<nti. Its roois uere
deeper And Kprung Itom the violation o( tbc equilibrium be*
iween the rnnr»i| aspiriitions and the «xtcrnai foims of lif^ in
^Tjsiian society. ThiTikii^i:: Russia aspires to rights on a basis
of civil liberty. The main pfoblem of the Government is \o
rraliit all the ektncnts of civil liberty, and to secure the equali
ution of ali RuE&Jans before the Uws without dUtinction of
religiofifl and natiunditicBn The next problem, the Count pro-
coflds to say, is the eatablishmcnt of legislative measures for
ffutraateeing the benefits o| civil, political, and economic liber-
ty* The object to be pursued should be the good of the
m^Hct of the people.
Uf the first Ministry constituted on the lines adopted In
tHc West, Count Witte has been appointed the Premier, ilc
'S Ui be the leader of (he Russian people idio the path of Con"
'^i tutionalism. He will choose hla own colleagues, and the
*T>»rchy hitherto reignijig even in the highest State ciicles,
^^'■leie each Minister strove to gel his own way, independently
^v^devren in opposition (o the rest, will cease and will be sue*
'^^^dod by the definite system under which the whole Cabinet
** pledfjEcd to a common policy. It is too soon to ask the
*l*«estion to whom the Cabinet is to be responsible^ to the Tsar
^*" Do the Duma.
The conCG^sionfi of (he Taar have not vet brouehl full
f^*a»ce. RuBsia, like every other country, contains alE sorts of
f^^ople. and whether the wise or the foolish arc to dominate
^^onot be aacaruined in a few weeken The bureaucrats, who
^*<fc for lo lonj^ a lime exploited Russia as If it were their
^^0 private estate for their own personal emolument and
Pleaitirc, will not surrender their seLfich aims without a sirug-
iCle, W« hope that those at the oiher exireme, to whom the
^<>nceswons made are not sufficient, those who wish for a Con-
^tiiueut Assembly and for a Constitution framed by it, will
K^oc play into the hands of the Rcactionarioa, but will be con^
Uni with a padual evolution from the less to the grcaier
It U, however, one of the evils of dctpotiam thai it aE»um«0
194
Ct^XJtSJrr B^£XTS.
[Dec,
A& a (irst principle that the people ate not lit to govern Ihcm-
seJvc^s, and proceeds, by IIf; methods, to render them u»5t'
We CAonot, ihercfore, be surprised to hear still of uprUinE^
and uii»etUement| and even of the heartrending missacre
of Jews at Odessa and in many olher places. Thrie ia
very good re&soti to thinh that th»s massacre and oiher dis-
orders, which have taken place »inc« the publicaticii of
the latest Manifeslo, were promoted by the pteseni pcsief-
(ors or power, in the hopes of nullifytHK Ihe Tsar's con-
cession. Russia, so long a scene of despotic tyranny, cannot
become at once a dweEitng-pTacc of freedom and of ordvr.
The great^it enemies of the common weal— the bureaucrats
— manifest openly that virtual revolt against the Tsar, which
in sftcreE they have long practised. At Warsaw the Governor
lore up the Manifesto, declaring that the people were not III
for freedom. The police and Cossacks alili conitnuc to shoot
and sabre men, in despite of the word of the Tsar, Ooe
thing, however, has happened calculated to give as iiiuch E^at*
istaction a» the Manifesto itself — the most prominent of the
btircaucrats, M. Fol>iedoi]oslzeET, haii lesigjied the Ttocufat^r-
shtp of the Holy Synod, and his resignation has been aC'
cepted. To him are due, more than to any one man, the evils
which have befallen Russia during the last and the present
reign. He has been a hater at once oj civjf liberty and f>4
the Catholic Church. The best hope that Ku^ia will pass ttf-
amphantly through the present cricie is to be found in Count
Wtte*s assurance that the majority of the nation under^lafid
the nece^iiy of being patient. At present, however, Russia
Is in a state of chaos, the outcome of which ls ^lill beyond
hnman calculation. WiJl a strong leader appear to bring peate
and security?
The German Emperor has made
Gerataay. two more speeches, and thctc have
tended to darken the outlook. At
Dfeiden he expressed hi^ gratitude to the King of Saxony for
the sympathy and support which had rendered it easy for the
"line official of Empire'* to face the difhculties encountered
by Gtf t^ins in the world. With open vlaor, and with the free
manXj GeriDan courage, the Kinpirc i^iouid look every one in
ibe face whc chooses to Gro» its path and to intcrkro with it
ipo5-]
CUXRENT EyS^fTS.
395
in the Icgittrn&te promoilon of ila inT«te£l(- A dajr oj two
Uler iX Berlin, on the occasion of the unvp^hng of a monu-
ment lo Molikc, the Emperor was even more oui^poleen? "Vou
taAve seen, genilcmcn* how w« stand ia th« worM. Then —
powder diy, surord keen, «yts on the goal muEck» Uut, and
away with pessimists. I «mpiy my glass lo our people in arma.
Th« German army and the German Staff, Hurrah 1 " These
4pcecheK led some to think (hat war with PrAticc vak immi-
nant, while other!* considered that it was at Great Britain that
these threnii were aimed,
Anxiaty was somewhat rftnovcd, however* by iht rcccUcc-
tion that the ReichKtag is on the poirit of racelinK tind thai it
wilJ be necessary to gel Urge additional sums of money voted.
The demand for an increase of the navy, the expense of stip*
pressing the naltve risings in Southwrft And F-ast AlricA, and
the readjustTHenl of taxation, require a sum of nearly fifty
millions per year of additional expenditure. The Hmpcrorusf,
therefore, speaking rather as a canvasfiej for votes than as ihc
War-Lord and Head of the Empire, The feeling, however, in
Germany is vtry Mrong that coalitions are being formed against
the Empire. Outride of Germany the impretaion H just the
reverse: that the Emperor is eridei:ivoTing to break the allian<«
between t>ance and Russia, or to unite Eranrc and Rufsta
And 6ven the United States with his own Empire in a Ifague
ftf^in«t Groat Brilaia and }apan- But, »o far, nothin|£ has been
accomplished. The methods of German diplomacy do not in-
spire confidence, and the objects which ;the German Empcrdr
ha* in view are too exclusively his owt; for other nations to be
^ilUn; to become his allies.
lo Prance the attention of the
Prance. public has been devoted to tbe
events of the quite fecent pait.
~Th« atattmenta made by Princa Bnluw to th« correip^ndtnttt
^af cwo French journals, in which he insisted that the sole aim
<>f Germany in the recent ncj^otiatfons with reference to Mo-
v-occo had beea to i^uard her own Inteiesta and to maintain the
S^rlaciplc of the "open door," met with little credence in
France an'l led 'o variou* re^'clationsof the cventa uhicb took
^^lace in June last, when M. Dekassc resigned It is qcite
by ^^^ V ^^<<>*''
ffje«
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Current EvEifrs.
397
in. The prets H subslflupd Jor the puipcfc o{ spread-
reports and of manufaciuring a fictilious public opinion.
As in the days of BiEmarckH who had newspapers in his pay
ind ordered them systematically \<y circulate calumnies againsl
his opponents, so in the preseiil limcE— and Ihcise newspapers
are not in one country only, but are found in all. What Mr.
CarnfgU Aaid about the general recognition of the principle ihat
war may be waged without any formal decUration, =howf how
much the public morahty of Europe has, in some respects, dete-
riorated. '
The ponitiort of France in relation to her neighbors, as the
resaltant of the forces which have been flctir.g upon her, seem*
to be somewhat as follows: Towards Germany she holds an
attitude of teflervc, if not one of suspLcion. The fntfntt with
England remains unbroken and has been strengthened, although
M. Rouvier, it is said, hns negatived any idea of forming a
dc5nite alliance^ The Municipal Council of Paris has paid a
viall to London and its members have been the guests of the
London County Conncilors in their homes, A return visit is
to be paid to Paris, The German Emperor's strong desire to
h*v« FraoGC as a supporter aeem« further than ever from reaii-
tation, although there are those who think it not unlikely that
he mty olTcr to give France a free hand (n Morocco in return
for French support elsewhere ; and there are not wanting French-
men ready to accept these terms. Another instance of what
hu become a marked feature of European poUlics — ihe mutual
visits of the heads of siaies^his taken place. M, Lonbei has
bc«n paying a visit to the Kin^ of Spain, and was warmly ic*
ceivcd both by the Sovereign and his people. The understanding j
as to Morocco, which had already been made between France and
Spain, has consequently been strengthened, and France and
Spain are understood to be in perfect accord. Hetween Eialy and
France fr[endly feelings exist. But Italy U a member of the Tri-
ple Alliance, and how she would act in the event of Germany's
staking war on France li a question hard to ARRwcr ; writers
worthy of allrntron declare that she would have to be faithful
to the duties imposed by the Alliance. Nothini; Ko far has
broken the union which exibta by virtue of the Treaty with
Ru«*ia- Bo^ powers are abidmg by its tertns. Bui with Rus-
«U in a state of chaos, th« i&llucnc« of this union is much di>
ministied.
As to mterior atfairs, the iiDpcnding general election is be-
gioning to cast its shadow before. The Jiiac, by m«atis of
which so much tcgislaiion hostile t^ the Church was passed,
fihows signs of dissolution. During ihe whole of the Wajdeclc-
Rousseau Miniatfy and ihat ol M. Ccrmbcs the SodaLi^ts stood
shoulder to shoulder with the Radices, Now M. Jaur£4 and
his fricnde are acting in a great number of con^tilutncievs in
opposition to the Radical Republkans and refusing to work
with Ebem bdjt longer The Radicals themselves are in confu*
fiioQ. and a general state of disorder seems at hand.
The movement for Ihc setllemenC of inlernational dilficulties
by arbitration hai many distinguished Frendiitier lor its advo-
catQS aiid promoter!^. But, with the love of logic which is said
to be ciiafucteriistic of the French, a ccrtaiEi number of French-
men placarded the walU with a violent appeal to the conscripts
to refuse all obedience lo their oncers, lo tire on them if or-
dered CO use their rifles during strike dUCurbancc^, and, since
" nil war is criminal,'* i! orders for mobilisation were given,
fhey were called upon lo retort by Jnaurrectton. The people
of Paris were indignant at the expression of such sentimeott.
In face, visitors to France Tied that a very warlike feeling has
come into existence. The external dargcrs have contiibuted
to bring to|gether tho&e who until recently were oppunenla.
The first act of the Assembly on its meeting was to pass an
Amnesiy for political o5enders, as a result of which M, Paul
Dcrouledc has returned to France,
AuBirifl-anngary.
After Russia, Austria- Hungary it
still the most disturbed ol the
countries of Kurope, nor is Ihe end
insight. The Hungarian Parliament has been again prorogued.
The Ministry of Haron Fcjetvary has been rein&ratEil in olBce,
although it has no supporters in either HousC' Its task now
is to tind them among the present members, and if this is im*
practicable to diasclve An^ appeal to the country. For tbia
purpose it has issued a long programme rescmbhng a Party
Platform in this country. So comprehensive is the list of the
Reforms it proposes that the other parlies are at iheit wit*'
enii TO know what inducements ihey can oiler. The most im-
portant of the proposals of Baron Fejcrvary ii the extension
"905]
CVFli£NT £l'£A'rS,
399
of th« FufTrage. To llii^ the Mig^'ars aie cppQsed- They are
afraiil lc«t Ihcir own power should be lost- P'or. like many
Otherc, il is noi a purely riisfntcrestcd love of liberty which
LUSft the present agitators. The Magyars domineer and
to domineer ovtr the Croats and the other races which
iorm pftrt ot the Transleichanian dominionsn and yet the Mag-
yars xiumbcr k&s ihan half of the pDpul3r[on[
The propu^Als of the govfnmient will, U carried, make ibe
ckctoratc three times as large a$ at present, the franchise
being given to all males who have completed their tweniy-
fourch year and who are able to read und write. It would
tn\tc loo fnuch apace |o mcnTion nU the other prcpo^als. They
embrace military, economic, agrariar. titdustrJal, judicial, edj-
catiofial, political, and religious subjects and. although tnany
o( tho reforaas proposed £re lughLy degirabl^. ir would take a
century tc carry them all into ef!ecc- In lact, it looks very
much lilcc tt fraudulent appeal, meant metely lo sow division
in the ranks of the opposition. That the words of command
should ^ Hungarian — the questior} which has been the subject
of »o Lon^ and bitter an agitatton^s not conceded. The
maintenance ol the setllem^nf of 1867 U taken as the basis for
ditcujtion, although a modiAcation ai le Is recognized as ad-
miuible. The raising of the question of an eiitcnfion ol the
^Suffrag9 in Hungary has led 10 its being raised in Austria aUo.
Neiiher Auttrians nor Hungarians can look forward to a quiet
lifflc.
The event which, of all others, is
Tufkvy. the most satisfactory, is the as
Bumplion by the Powers of Jinan-
cUl control over three vilayets of Macedonia. This is an inva-
*^on of the Sultan's rights ol sovereignty and resisted by him
^ iLLch^ IJut io enormous arc the evils of that sovereignly,
">«t li is no longer tolerable; and five Towers have laid
*9idc Iheir mutual jealousies and combined Co demand that the
^uitin should, if he remains a ruler at all, make his rutc Jn
'^<De dexrcc brarable. What succc&s will attend ihdr efioits,
^'^il how ihey will combine to coerce the Turk, should he pro-
I^VBg his resistance, the immediate fuiure will reveal. But that
^^e Powers have been able to go so far i^ of good augury.
Th« separation of Norway and
Norway. Swollen has bcco dcf;nitely ac-
complished. King Oscar has lakvn
I«ave of his ungrateful mbjccta, and ha» persisted m hSa re-
fusal lo let any prince of hJE own family reign over ihcm.
The question then arose what form of government Norway
should adopt, whether It should remain a Monarchy or become
a Republk, A certain number of Norwegians, who were Re-
publicans, wished to have the (jue^Uon referred by way of
Rt/trendum to the people. The Storthing, however, decided tO
o5er the crown to Pnncc Charles, the second son of the Crovrn
Prince of Denmark, but to make thia offer subject to a direct
vote of the people. The vote ha3 taken place, iind by «n im-
mense majority the offer of the Storthing has been con^rmed.
Another nation ha:^ been added to the list* and another King
takes his place in the ranks of sovereign rulers.
Yet another cahinei crisis has
Sp^a. taken place in Spain> No sooner
had M. Loubet departed than the
Premier resigned. It Is hard for outsiders to understand the
InsE&bJlity ^hown by these frequent changes, or the reason for
them.
I
IRew 3Booh6.
EARLY PERSECUTIOKS
Br AU&rd.
By hlB live-volumc hisioiy ol the
perscciJtions o( ihc early Chth-
tians, M, Paul Allard placed him-
fcltf w«U in th« front rank of )iv*
Irtg hislcH^ns, and won from tlie learned world a respectful Atleo-
tion which U too seldom, now-d'days, granted to Catholic ^ctiul-
ar£- The erudition^ which was not exhauated in furnishing forth
hi« monumental work, has now given us a eecond which in size
only is inferfof to the first. Though covering The same groutid,
it is not a repetition, or a summary, but the complement of the
larger study.
In the present publtcaiion^* which consists of ten leclurej:
delivered recently at the CathoMc In«iiute, the learned pro-
itisct prcficiitb, in all Its splendor, the tesiJinony to the diviniiy
of Christianity which Is contained in ihe hi^ory of the early
Riartytt in the Roman empire. Complete familiarity with all
the information avatUble lor the aubject, waa but one of th«
qualilicutions demanded for Ihe ta&k of accuiately and attrac-
lively placing before an audience a worthy tableitu of this great
fact. To condense within the compaGs of ten not very Jong
chapters, all the material required to convey an adequate arid
real eonception of a »ariflB of events, iji which the central fact
WAS eon$t«ntly modiAed by the changing and thUting of local-
ity, of time, HTid of the condition and equality of the chief ac-
tors, required a sure eye for the selection of repre:seniative cle-
nenta out of an immense ma^s of mntcrial. and a Large meaEurc
of artistic akltl for tbetr arraiiGemenc. M. Atlard has proved
equal lo the work.
In an introductory chapter, ^n the expansion of ChriMiantty
in the Roman empire, he liK«» the geographical and social miHeu
in whid) the bloody drama was played. Then he suivey* the
nature of the legislation which was enacted at dr^erent titnes^
and from varying moiivei. by the persecutors. He next ana-
tyxes the chief causea of the pcrtecutlng fury, which he icducea
to three; popular prejudices, political prejudkea, and the
vratchcd perianal pabtioni of rnlcra.
After etaaying a calculation of the number of the martyrs
rMi: ViaHl4«ltit
VOL. lafxaii - :6
402 New Books. [Dec,
— and here M, AUard furnlflbcs a solid refutation of the ma-
levolently contemptuous estimate to be found in the sixteenth
chapter of Gibbon's Decline and Fall — he gives a luminous ac-
count of the diversity which existed in the sociitl condition of
the martyrs. One of his most telling chapters is that in which
be throws out in bold relief the moral sufferings enduied by
the faithful — a factor in the struggle which hitherto had not
received due attention from the historian. The modes of legal
procedure, the nature and extent of the punishments, direct and
indirect, are unfolded with a precision possible only to a writer
perfectly familiar with all the knowledge to be derived frcm a
knowledge of Roman history, archeology, and jurisprudence.
The apologetic purpose of M. AUard is realized in his clos^
ing chapter on the value of the martyrs' testimony and the
honors paid to them by the faithful Throughout, M- AUard
evinces a sobriety in statement and a simplicity of style adapted
to the greatness of his theme, which, not unfrcquently, at the
hands of other narrators, as zealous, but less judicious, has httti
injured by misplaced rhetoric and obvious exaggeration. While
discharging the role of apologist, M. AUard docs not forget
that \t is a critical historian.
He is not often tempted to heighten his effects by the in-
troduction of sensational or picturesque materials thai are de-
rived from suspected sources. Instead of saying that he very sel-
dom trips in this respect, we would say never, if he had shown
himself somewhat more exacting when drawing upon the Acta
Sincera of Ruinart, whose great work, in the estimate of our
best critics, is made up of articles of very heterogeneous value.
The Passio S. Afnx and the Fassio SS. Didymi et Theodora
are appealed to in the Dix Lefons with as much confidence as
the Fassio S. Ferpetu^. Yet one of our most authoritative spe^-
cialists does not hesitate to declare the first-mentioned narrative
a historical romance, and the second a work of the imagination.
If we cannot, without some slight r*seivation, agree with the
statement made by Mgr. Pechenard, the Rector of the Catholic
Institute, in his eloquent Preface to the book, that it has nothing
to fear from the application of the most rigorous criticism, we
heartily join with him, both in the beliel that it is sure to please
by the accents of sincerity and truth which animate it, and
also in the gratitude which he expresses to the author for this
new and brilliant service to leligion.
t9o5'l
N£w Books,
40J
VALERIAIV PERSE-
CUTION.
By HcHly.
Simultaneously w[th the appaar-
ISB VALERIAN PERSE- ance in France of Piofessor Al-
lard's work, th<re comes, from th«
pen of a profcfi*©! of th* Catho-
lic University in America, AJiottitr
volume,* cognate m character, and not inferior in quality,
wbich marks the delnl of a neiv laborer In the 6cld uhcre M-
AfUfd baa long bnen engagccL almost aJonc- \Vhun sclccling^
ihc subject of a dissertation, to be submitled to the University
when he sought the deg^rrc of Doctor in Sacred Theology,
K^l^er Healy. who had ileyoted hit years of special &tudy to
Church history, chose the Valerian pcr&ectiJion, The choice
wa» an excellent one. The accce^sfut discharge of the taak
uadvrtat<en pr^vidtd a thorough test of the candidate's qualifi-^
cation*. It called lor a wide acquaintance with histincal litf^ra-
ture beatlrii; on Roman and ecclesiastical atTaifs. during three
Bupremely ^gnificant centuries; a firm gr^sp of sound hisioncal
method; industry to colUlc mateiial widely scattered: a large
thart of critical acumen to appreclaie evidence and the rela-
tive values of conflicting accounts and opinions^ No special
study of the subject had hitherto been published H this feet
iQcreaied the dilHcultyoC the student, it also supplied a strong
inceolive In earnest endeavor, inasmuch as it promis<d the
writer that a good piece of work on his subject would r&sull,
901 tnerely in an acadenjic exercise worthy to be rewarded
with a more or leas vaiuatjie academic degree, but al»o in a
really valuable contribution 1o Church history.
Certain features of the Valerian persecution invest it with
a special importance in the eyca of the cccIcGJatticaJ Sind th«
KCuUr historian. More clearly than any other of the perfie-
CuciotiSj It reveals one of the great controlling facts of hislory,
tbe innate, euentiaL irreconcilable antagonism between the
pagan Stale and the uncial, organic char;icier of ChriBlianity.
In the middle of the third crntury, ih« ChrJ^tifiiia were no
longer a number oF small, almost iioLatcd, obscure communiliev,
Uic gtm ittei/¥£a of earlier dayi^ With the lapse of nearly two
liitndrcd years, they lind devdopcd into n well-organiied. ubi*
quicotti aoclety. The Christian bishop had become a conspicu-
ous pertDDaga in a^moit every i!r«ai city of the empir?, Chris*
> rat >U*rfiM PtnrimJiM. A ^loJ/ vi lit- KpUU^ii ttrtAP-rii CliijrvL jAi\ »(4i* itM A.*
404
t^gW /iOOXX.
De...
r
tian laymen held high posiiions in public h'fe. It U e»eti be-
lieveil by many chat ChristidnLty had already occupied the Im-
periil throne in th« person oi Philip the Arab> At the same
tim« ihc great Undmatk^ of the cfd RfJtnan world were fast
disappearing: & new order of things was arKin^ in which there
was an ominoLit debatement of moral st«ndardj in both public
and pfivaie life-
Conservative itatesmen, like Ded us, believed thai the spread
of degeneracy, was to be arrested only by the extirpation of
ForeigTi influences and the restoration of ancient Roman ivays,
soctal and jioliticaL They had reached, aiso, the conviction
that ChrUcianiry was cssentUTly inimical to native Roman, ideas
and in«tilutJon£. Hence the short Decian persecution and the
Valeri^in- — practically a renewal oi the efTori cut short by ibe
death of Deciuf — were not a mere attack upon individuals con-
sidered guilty of law-breaking, but a mighty effort ol the pagaa
empire to crush an institution that threatened its existence i it
wa» a battle between the Roman State and the Catholic
Church,
Besides thic dominant feature of Dr. Healy's theme, there
are several minor poinlE which engtge the interest that etinga
Around unsettled questions. What, for instancei is the ex*
planalion of the sudden change from an attUude of friendli-
ness to one of fie.'ce hoattlity towards the Chrfstians, in a ruler
remirkable alike for hi» probity, moderation, and wisdom ? Or,
how ranch ctedence are we to give to the story of Sc- Lau-
rence's gridiron, and his exhibition to tht' Roman ofHciaJ of the
dlsappomiing treasurcEof the Church? And how much Is fact,
bow much is (ictLon, in the history of the Aifassa Candida, re-
counted to us by St. Augustine and Prudcntivis ?
The character at Dr. Hcaly's woik may be briefly indicated
by saying thiit, white it satiD^cs the exacting Mandard» to which
the modern writer of history must conlorm, it will not fail io
fascinate the inteliigenC reader who takes up a book of history,
not for severe study, but partly for instruction, partly for en-
tertainments Clear alike by it? methodic arrangement and its
simple scyic< lively and vivid without falhng into the rhctortCAt,
tho narrative flows smoothly on, and, though aboundinf;: In de-
tail, never becomes tedious or monolonoUB,
The author has assiduously searched anciema and moderns^
from Uenin of Alexandria to De Rofsi and llarnack, venerable
190S.I
NF.tv Books.
405
tomOB «nd the mo^t recent periodical literature, for whatever
data they coQlAint^d benring on his topic. He does not strain
cvid«nc« cr force conclusions, On controvtrted poinifi he U
fiitisfied 10 5el forth the arguments for holh sides, or, at most,
without professing to decide the questionf he indicates to which
side his own judgment leans. And, avoiding indulgence m
iDEfC subjective views or obvioUB iitteTjrretalions, he pay^ hib
rrsders the compliment of leaving the facts to ipcak for thera-
sclvef-
Wnile heariily Gi>TigralutaIing the Catholic University and
Df, Healy on the excellence o( his book, we cannot omii to
remind bim that it comrnits iiim to the obligation of satisfying
the expectation which it raises of stilL better things in the fu-
ture, when hi* profcssorUI study will have endowed him with
the opulent erudition, sureneas of vision, snd independence of
jodgmvnt, which seidom cume unacitoEnpanicil by gray hairs
acquired while ** hiving wi^dr^m with each studious year/*
la reply to ihoAc unfriendly critics who commented on the
small number of theological sUidentt^ at the Catholic University,
iti fricndi have always insisted that the services to be rendered
by the University faculty Ko the Church wouM not be con-
fined to, nor even consist chiefly in, imparting lo a body of
MudeAts the results of other nien't labors- The professors
would not be mere stcondhand distributors of knowledge; they
should Ateo br producers. And their original coatribultons to
every branch of sacred science compelting the respecTful Atlen-
lioa of the universities and the learned world, at home and
abroad, which alone are the competent judges of scholaiship,
aid w\\\ which productive scholarship alone <;ounts, would re
fute the charGc that the Catholic Church, once the teeming
mother of scholars, had fallen into the barrenness of old age.
May we not se« in Dr. tlealy's book the approachini? fulliU
tcent of hope deferred f
Th« chief promoierof the pretent
industrial movement in Ireland be-
iieved that his study and expcri-
vni;e Uuglit htm that tome defecta
of Irish character are paiiially le-
<pD(t(ib!« for Ireland's economic backwarrineis. So in hiii book,
Utkmd di die Ntw Csafurf, Sir Horace Flunhett vonluied lo
CATHOLICITY AND PRO-
GRESS IN IRELAND.
By I>r. O'Riortlan.
4BSUR1C the rcJe oi frkndly critic Cowards his Catholic fellow-
countrymen. If he iaiagincd thai his ttriciurefl would be re-
ceived with docility, there is reason 1o doubt wh^rt her hift
knowJcdge of IreUnd is a? thorough as he believed it to be-
CritiG:im, however uidt loiiJidrd, is a ntedicUe thftt we flll
swallow with a wry face, ev«n when adminiFitcred by the hand
of OUT best friend. And it was not to be expected that ihe
Irifh clergy would Gubmit to be lectured on their a.1Iegtd
shoTtct>tnings by a ProLealant li^ynian. Sir Horace's bo^ik
promjitly called forth a greai volume of indignaTil prote«.
One of the iiblest antJ^gonistJ who took up a peri agiinat him
was Dr. D'Riordan, cl Limenck, who has been recently ap-
pointed to the rectorship oi the Jri&h College in Rome. Dur-
ing the course of a year he contributed to ibe columns of the
LfiiJtr, :i well-hnown IrUh newspaper, ^ series of spirited and
bnUinnl* though ^foitiewh^t hastily written, papers, teeming with
Matitlio, history, philosophy, directed against views advanced
by Sir Horace Flunketl. This correspondence, expanding be-
yond the scope of a mere repty to Sir Horace, embraced an
extensive treatment of many Eubjects raised in the ctilictiinE;
it Lt now published tn a large volume of aboDt dvt hundred
pagQB, entitled Catkohcity and Progress m Ireland-*
The main allegations agdnft which Dr. O'Kiordan directs
hij attack are that church-building- In Ireland haf, of lat«
years, been carried out on a plan too costly for the economic
conditions of the countty ; that CftthoHcijm hag helped to de-
v«lop, or, at Icrist. has failed to counteract, weaicnc»fe» which
cxiftt in Irish character; that the clergy, while ihey «e to be I
honored for having esiablished an exceptionally high standard
of chaatily among the people, have employed for that cod.
methods thai hftve too harshly restricted innocent amusement*
nnd ^GgitimaEe (rEcdom; that they have not exerted (heir in*
fluence with anything like cc^uaE ^cal in the cau»e of temper-
ance; finally, that the number of religious conimtinilics, which
»re non-producing bodies, ja unduly large for so poor a cotin-
tr*'^
After a general introductory chapter, Dr. O'Riordan lakes
up the qiMBtion of church- building- He next discusses, at con-
siderable length, the relation of ibc Catholic Chuich to bumui
I
' r.i4DAr«]> i^r rngirmu I* ifrl^ud. 9/ EJ,e Rev. >»r. O'l^cnUa, ni,rx. D.D,, D.CL.
9L Udil* i D. ntnkr.
^905-]
N£iV SOOKS.
407
progress, niti>ir£tmg faU argument with a lengthy compariscn
bclwccii the cconcjinic cornlilion* of Protestant England and
loUc Bdglum, Thf^n he challeaget the vtew that, as lar as
(ndufitry and the *'<Avic virtues'^ Are concerned, no rthero Prct-
•stanU Kbow lavorably in contract with the Catholic popula-
Ijoct- The reUtions of the prksts to the «oeUI, politick, &rd
ibdustrjal intcrcBts of the peopJe are presented fto a« 10 exon*-
crate the clergy Uom the charges of having helped fo dtive
the yoting people out of Ttic crMintry, and havtfig failed to do
all that waj incumbenl on them to counteract the shiftless and
Inteoperatc habicfi of thdr flocks.
Here the Doctor makes a considerable dif^ressii^n, to point
^ui how much the government* the landlords, and the Proteil-
^nt Church have taken from the people, and how little they
lijve given in return. Returning to his nan, Dr. O'Riordan
dcmonfttratea very forcibly that it is a great miftalee to con-
sider Iri»h coQvenU as mere useless, non-produclive instilu-
^lons; and he defends the tight oi ladies to retire with their
viowerie; into religious Jifc if they choose, instead of spending
their money in Ihe frivoliiie£ of fashion
The book clones with an able revjew of education in mod*
«rc Ireland, in which the author takes an opportunity to re-
count to hi* readers chc brilliant &ui:i:ces of the Catholic Uni-
vtrsity of LouvaiiiH
Abttrmcting from the intrinsic merits of the question at
IsBue. and judginfi; the volume merely from a dialectic ftand-
pomt, the difpaisionatc reader will find Dr, O'Rlordan strongs
««t in his dcfenar of the convents, and weakest where he dt*
fcndi the Irith clergy from the charge of having failedp as a
body, to do their uinLO«( in ihe cause of tenipErance. Moie
thin oi3ce, coo, tnsteiLd of meeting and confuting his advct^aiy
oa the preche point at li>ue, he enter* upon a much ^idvr
topic, and eittablitLhoB a principle which, his opponent might
rcloTt, if perfectly coniiilent with the existence of exceptions
und«r ipeciil circtimsCAnccs, For initance, hJv l^ne defence ef
Itiih character, as manifeited in its indomitiible itruggJe for
fflith «nd fatherland, doei< not CHtahliAh a coniradielory of Sir
Horace PlunkeU's assertion that "it i» the folly of follies to
aay that on its other side the national character has preccr^^ed
thai strcnKlh, helf-rdi'ance, Hiid scnae of rtpptm&ibility, or thai
^^preciation of true liberty, which a modern people ttiuit pos-
4oS ^^^" N£iv Hooks. [Ueci.
SCAS if Lt 16 to succeed, or even \o Eur\iv«, in the industriftl
5ghc-'* Again the economic ^uccesi oi Belgium Is quite com
pMiblc with the thesis that "certain characteristics of Romui
CalhoIicUm appear calculated, itnttis sufpUmtnttd by sthtr %h-
jiueHf-es. to check the growth of the qualities of initiative and
self reliance.'*
On the other hand, the Doctor has, we betleve, effectively
disposed of Sir Horace's contention that the disciplinary meth-
ods of cEic clergy for the safeguarding of chastity among tfaeir
flocks has, in 3 marked manner, contributed to ctnigraiion, and
to a subsequent *' Itakag? " of immigraiils from the Church in
America- On this Jast point, Sir Horace has been led astray
by confiding too much in the absurd conclusion! reached
through erroneous reasonings of the Rev. Father Shinnort.
ba^cd on very narrow ^.nd superincisi observations i]>ade by
him during a hasty tour In part of the United Stales^
One of the most pleasing features of the book i& that I>r.
O'Riordan handsomely acknowledges his opponent** set vices
Co Ireland, and expresses the hope that his criticisms may not
prevent any of his readers from lending their sympathy and
CO operation to the economic work with which Sir Horace
Plunkctt \% identified. Hi$ observation that many who will not
read Sir Horace's book will pass judgment on it. on the
strength of the criticisms they mHII ha.ve read concerning It,
prompts us 10 suggest that those who read Dr. O'Riordan will
do well to read also Sir HoEace Flunkett.
The tone of the school of pbilovo-
PSTCHICAl DISPOSITIONS, phy directed by Profeaaor Pace.
By Dubray. a, ihe Catholic University, of
Washington, is wtll txemplified
ia the brochure' before us. Two characteristics stand oiit a»
especially prominent in these pflges-^lhe writer's Ihoroufjh ac-
qttamtance with nnd fair appreciation of modern psychological
research, and, on the other hand, his perfect training in scho*
laslic melhodfi and hJs attachment lo the main principles of
the traditional Catholic philosophy. With such liimtationa as
Are to be looked for in ji Arst book, compkud In accord with
rnLciM iinhp Vi\jBii\iy ni l-hil(#vi]ihTfi1 the Cmhnlic L^nlvrmlT)- of AmorLC*, lit pvU^i (u'l^LncBl
*f ilia rcjaUTii^ciittfuiTlivilcyEwr r>uiij>r aI llj^liftuyliVr ruhUiJiAil mt Mttaofft^pU SSyfi^lfr
'905-1
New Books,
409
idilions TinpoHcd by a graduate essfl/n this new mono-
is A moat excellent piece of wf*rk. It rtflccTS rrcrdlt OD
the soundness 4ad breadih of th« autbofi training; and it
|£ires us a^suEance tliii lie will not be an idle or a ±ileni fjgure
in the field of scientific philosophy.
In a preface. dclighUutty cIcAr and brief, the AUlhor suin-
pprixeB the contents of his book and the aim he has had in
Tiew^ Modern psychology has discovered certain new facu,
■nd more dceply^ investJgaied others. Of the theork« pro-
posed in explattation of these factf, sonae are mere adaptations
cf old theories — as, (or instance, the theory of Piychicat Dis-
positions which allempts to solve the problems of mcmoTjr,
iiDigmation. association, and habit, by borrcwitg. in part, the
old AriBiotelian-achoIaatic philosophy^ and retaining the eon-
oepi of psychical dtapositionK, whik eliininating the notion \A
n ftuhstantial souL
In the 170 pages of his eEsay, Dr. Dubray undertakes \
diicufition of the <]uestion : Is this dismemberment of the
scholastic theory an improvcmcnT from the logical point of
view, or is the concept of dispositions, which wa« perfectly
harmonious in ihc older philosophy^ a discordant clfin<.ni tn
the new ^ In other words — to anticipate the conclusion at
which our author Anally arrives— 'the theory of dispostcjons.
while very valuable as an expUnaiion of cerlain psychological
facts, cannot be legL I i mat ely employed by a thiialier who denies
gfcg exiftcncc of the soul. The monograph* then, la no djrect
QprecLaEion of the scholastic philosophy, nor a ddenie of the
Bpectal theory in qnestiou, but merely an juveati^HtJOn of th«
relations between thttn ; that is to say, an attempt to show
that the laiier necessarily implies the former^
The preparatory histcirJcal survey, although well made, ap-
pears to be the icnst imere^ting and pertinent part of the
book. The presentation of the vart<iu& theories excoKLiatcd by
modern psychologists to explain the facia of memory and
habU ta dear, concise, and comprehensive. Dr- Dubray ihtnhs
out his programme well and carefully, In examining and ana*
lysing the concept of psychical disposiltoiis, he shows the prac-
Ifcal benefit of a training in Hcholfultc precision and mcLh<]d.
Oae serious crilictsm of his work would seem to be possible,
■BU»e]y. thai, in the last part of bis book, he identifirs modern
^psychology too closely with the position which be shows to be
4l<^
^Et*^ Books.
[Dec.,
I
I
inG0ii«^5tcnt !Lnr] illogical. In the earlier pages, whcr df^ciib-
tng the modern theories of dJspoaiitons, he cniEmeraie^ ^ome
whkh would v\*>\ obvtousty fall witbin lh« reach of bb objec-
tions, » at present formulaU^, and possibly could not be proved
inconsisicni: at all. A\ any tare, here, If anywhere, a closer
DflxuB of the are^u men cation might be calJed for*
In th« La» page or two the author writes a paragraph
wEiich revenls preUy well his general lone nnd temper, and
which on that account we venture to qu^c in full: "Wehjivc
tiuiflt«d on the fchoUuic view, more pcchapa th*n was necc»* ■
sary (or our purpose- But there was a special re^EOO to do
flo; nchoUstic pbiloaophy is very little kndwn, frequently met*
QoderUood and misrepresented, and charged with absurditie*
which do noi belong to il. What is the value of the nyntem
tn Imlf ? Has it a sufficient b^sls in experience? Can it fac«
successfully ihe data of science and be adapted to the conclu-
sionB of iDodern psychology F We do not know. But the
question may be worih examining; «nd we btlicvc that it is
hardly fajr for th« historian of philosophy lo keep BUent on tho
whole mediaeval period; and for the p&ychologifit or the phi-
losopher lo dismiss a priori aU the theories of scholar tielsnt on ■
the explicvtty or implicitly avowed pita ibat we must do away
with all that is scholastic- One thing seeme sure, thai, with
reg[ard lo the general theory of psychical dispositions, th« scKo-
lastic? have a meat which perhaps not All modern p^ycholo-
gialA c«n cUim; that of log^lcal confitsiency."
This is plain and downright; but non« will £ay that tt is
unfair. And It Mcma Co show that the study of ntodern phi*
lD«ophy, even when sympatbeiic and thorough, does doi make
men unwilling to criticise the new and to stand up In chain- _
pionship of the old. f
At la^t we have a book on Chi:fcb
CHaRCH MCSIC MAffUAL. Music," which will be a reaj help
to priests and cJioirmasiters- '* I
consider the publication of such a manual," writes his Excel-
lency, the Apostolic Dclcfaie, in (he Introduction, "moat op-
portune at the present Eime, and 1 have no doubt that It wiU
prove of paramount importance in the solution) of thoje di£<
cuttles whid], in the mind of many, hamper the putting into
executioa of the Papal in (t ructions." The hook H desiijncd to
■ nir OhIJMw 'VUMiW ^ CtanA Jf*!^. n^UtddphU: The Dolphtn Picah
I
I90S-1
A'Eir ffOOXS.
41
^vt a hir<J"s-eyf"vlew of ihe present situation fn ecdesinatk^l
ttu>lc AHil to Hbridgt!, in the form of a hancibnok, the princi-
'plet of th«ory lod practice which hereaher. according to The
**Motu Pfopflo" of Kovenibvr, t90j, cnu^t safeguard ihv musi-
cal portions of liturgicnl services.
The piirpoKc Anti charnccer of the book src erlargrd upon
by Rev. Dr. Henry, in the Preface: "To the simple-hearted
seeker for clear information and definite lines ci procedure in
Xh< carrying out of Ihc Pope's command, the wide discuMion
■nu£t indeed have dtirkened counsel In some cases the die-
<;uB«ioEi appeared |o be of a minimieing ehaiacter^ in others,
«^f an undoubtedly obatructive purport. Technical lar>gtjage,
j^p^eaU to tradition, dCAtheiietAm mixed with archasology, the
flcareety veiled antipathies of schools of interpretation in Plain-
<Jhant, qaestion^ concerning the possible employment at female
'^rwccs in extra Uturgical functions, etc. etc-; all theic distracr-
«Ag features were found in a dlfccuss^on which, meanwhile, was
not carried on consistently in one ijua}!- authoritative organ,
Trhere the literature of the subject however involved, tnight at
least be eaf^ily read and compared, bi^t vrnk spread out over
xuonths of lime and in a large variety of periodical&^ctuarterJy
review*, monthJy magii^incs. weekly and daily papers — in all
^be lan^fuaf^ea of Chriatendom ; so that gvga an earnest student
iQi^hi easily become ^o perplexed as to give the subject up
"in de«palr of ever understanding It^
" Meanwhile, the curious fact remiinE that the subject is, in
"3tiell, by no means difficult to understand, if rreaUd wJih din-
crimination by competent students of liturgy and music. Let
the whole subject be gone over patteolly by those qualified for
4uch a task by knowledge and experience, and what seemed a
hopelessly confused mixture of chemical elements jti constant
^bLillEiion, will be found soltdified tnto a beautiful and shapely
try 1 1 a! ^nrleir, definite, coinpact. This h whit has been
achietred by the writers of the present Manual of Cfi^f^k
The table of contents includes chapters upon all the <ub-
jecta referred to by our \\\Ay Pather- The discuMiooB have
been divided into three pares: the (irsl part deals wilh the
tubject in the light of the practical didicuJtiefi urged against
tba timeliness of iutrodudng such a radical reform io ihia
CQDdtry. The aUcged supreme di&culiy — the displacing of the
412 Af f' Books. \p«^>
UQ«cclc3Ja»tical gallery choir of women by IJturglcftl choirs of
boyA and mentis th? subject of deuiied conflide ration. After
smilying the chapters on "The Organization of e. Choir" and
"General Hinia for Mfl[nuining a Choir/* a fair-minded reader
must admil that "for the average city church the installation
ftn<l maifttflining ol eFTectivc Grcgoiian chancel- choirs is much
easier than Ihc pment attitude of iome of the clergy wotjtd
iikdicaie/'
The second pa.rt of the book presents, in five chapters^ an
epitome of the principles of training liturgical choirs. The
concluding section of the Manual is devoted {o a consideration
of the musical qampoeitions which, unrfer the canons of the
" Motu Propfio," may be considered permifisible for uac In
church^ A forceful chapter 0:1 "Modern Hymnody *' (the
sentiment of which many minds will echo), completes thii^ i!x-
collent liCttc volume. "' Every priest," »a.ys Dr. Henry, "* every
choirmaster, every Aiager. should not merely possess the vol- ■
uinc, bill should carefully master the cuntenU/' Th^ collabora-
tor* of the Mttnufi/ are the Rev. William J. Finn, C,S.P., Pro*
re«scr George H- Wells, and Professor Francis J. O'Brien.
Periigia lives again in these faaci-
MATARAZZO'S CHONICLES nating pages" of her old chfOnl-
OF PKRUGIA. cler. Matarai^o, contemporary
with the events and persons be
commemorates, was in the service of the }Jagliore family, whose
deeds fill &0 large a p»t of his narrative^ A born etory^teller,
hr? carries us on with intense^ mEerest from cne incident 10
another, and almost persuades ns, 3li the whtlCp that he Is tell-
ing the strict truth. But if Maiarazto writes with the preju-
dice of a follower oF the Buglioni^ and is cctirtecl iuXo exag-
geration by his love of telling a good story, ncverthelew the
general picture of Pcmgian lilc which his pages present is true,
though one-sided.
And a sad and terrible picture, En truth, MataratEO gives
ui, and one unfiimiliar. we think, to the generai reader. Tbfl
KenaEfl«ancn survives to-day in those priceless worka of art
which filled EurO[)c with beauty; it is celebrated for ihe re-
awakening it brought to the mind of man, the broadening of
his mteilcctuul inlcrcbU, Jknd the civilizing and humanlMng of
Sd4u4»CfHtaii)>torK'«n, NaHVuik; K f, Durion 4 Co.
i9oM
JiEty Hooks.
413
hifl tute which ensued. Its moral corruption is w«l] enough
known; bui the dark, cruel savagery, the barbarous instincts
tbAt tnarlccd the Hmc and existed, strange to say, side by side
with iu beauty and grace, are little spoken of in most popular
iCCflunW ol the pcnod which have been puNtsbecl of late.
j^tbctic soLiU, inclined 10 sigh £or the vanished gIorie» of the
gotden age of pal[it!:j^, will, perhaps, be cured if they dip jnEO
the stirring narrative oE oM Maiara^^zo. tt reads like 5cnie of
tbe best ch&pters of Antbony Hope's romances. The characters^
unfoitunaiely. though of heroic build, &re nearly all disfigured
by crimes a^ great as their heroisni. It was a lime of great
men and |;reat villains; a turLuJent lime, when every little Iowa
df Italy wai the enemy of its neighbor, and had its band of ad-
venturers willing to light under any leader, for any cau^e.
This dirk side of Perugian life is most vividly pictured by
Our chronicler. Beside it, the Italian love of splendor al^o ucca-
*ionally reueivet adequate presentation ; but we miss the brighter,
Itontlcr, more Christian side, though it is not entirely absent,
1^0 Catholic cftn read the book without being struck by the
^««ply pagan tone of its chief actors, nominal sons of Ihe
Church ; yet he is consoled when he sees that whatever is good
*'» Ihem, except their brave heart and brawny armn is the dt-
'«Ct fruit of the Christian principles on which tliey had stfll
■omr hold.
Mr. Morgan'^ translation, as a piece of English, H most ad-
mirably done; the archaic flavor he has imparted to the «tory
has « di.^Einct charm> There i^ ore complaint to be lodged
Agvlnit him, however: we think he sh(Juld have put his readerE
Iti A position where they would be better able to judge of
BfAtnreixo't veracity. Probably, m his love for a good story,
he feared to spoil it« charm by making them stop at every
tiarii t& «k: "But is this true?"
TEE CORE d-ARS,
By Ccrinalii,
The celebrated priest of Ars is
one of the most sympathetic fig-
ures of modem times. What an
admirable priest he was and what
ft truly Franciscan type 1 His biography was bound 10 ap.
peX\ to many writers and, at a matter of fact, tJiough he h4i
be«n dead acarcety fifty years, four or five volumea have been
devoted to his memory.* Htf life was simple tAd filled with
* tf Of^*rmt J. /t. I'laimif, Trrflmrw Ji ^f. firant^u. fly Arptiiinfp On uixJ a, t^iLrNE
4U
NSIV BOOKS.
[Dec,
|[00d decdx. A farmer'^ son, he had thi: j^catest diflitrulty in
completing bis ecclesiastical siudies. His earnestness ajid vir^'
lue w«rc, however, so great thai he was Eoon sent as vtlJ*|jfe
priewt to a liuEe rjiii-of-lbc-w-'ky puriali of the d^-panni^nl of
Dombfift which, in a liEilc while, he completely regenciAtcd by
hiB dttdfl a« welt as by his words^ The vitlageiA, whose pastor
he Wivs, were v«getating in the deepest icdilTefcnce. Soon he
brought them back to Christian practices and, socially as well
as spiritually, be exercised the ihqsi wholciome influence over
tbcm. His lame as an apo£ile and guide of souJs spread rapidly
in Ihe region round About him and from every nook and coTDcr
of Biessc, the Lyonnaif, Beaujolais. and I'oicz, the faithful flecked
to Ara to cMisult him^ The famous pil^iioiage was lhu» spoA*
taneously established and in a ^hori time assumed incredibk
proportjona, people coming thither from every country of Europe
and evcji Arnerican For more than thirty years the BLesMd
Vianney gave liimscif up moat unstintedly to penitents juid
sorrowing souls pf all description. Thi« cxtraordtnar>' ascetic
converted and comforted them with a look or a word, ar;d his
charity was cf such a lofty nature that it accomplished niar>
veU-
Atphonae Germain ealls him the Christian ficracles and ihia
epithet must not be considered exaggerated, if one think: of
the tremendous labors our apostle and priest accomplished dur-
ing a most trying period and In a region ravaged by the if^'rit
of uobelief^ Assuredly his work is colossal; as lime goes by
\K will he even better appreciated than it li4 now* Mr. Ger*
main in his biography lays special nrcfs on the ascetic and
splrEtual £Jde of the Blessed Vianney, and be has traced the
charaLttr of Ihe hero of renunciation by putlinje tn relief what
he owe? to his race and order. He has shown how inteoic tho
FracciacafiUm of this priest was, and bow great waa his social
influence, a pha^c that had not as yet been suf^cJcntly con-
aidcrcd.
The reader wlU (ind in this work, written in a clear. eJe-
frant, and original style, a wealth of infoiicatlon ba^rd on co*
pious and reliabLe sources; certain extr^icts from little knowo
mystics will be a revelation to many scholars. In the two
prime qualities of ihia book, ciearness and scholar! iness, wc
easily recognise the author of Sainit CoUUt. Further pralve
is needle is.
4
4
4
I
'9»5]
X£H' SOOA'S.
415
In ^ book* o\ no more than iSS
THE AMERICAN FAMILY, pages Mr, Hagar attempts to di«-
By HA£8r. cujSh not orly the aociolngical
pfcbEcms presented by the fdnijly,
but to touch mora or les^ upon aJL the possible phfiscA umler
which lW» mstitution may be studied. In iwcnty-four brief
cl^ptera he ranges through the psycbological. historical, legal,
Cfionomic, ifi vvdl as social hdde affordcU by this cumprehcn^ivE
Subject. DxEpatching many of ihc grave questions connected
with the family in sweeping |{eneralii«tionA, Lh« author ta too
gftoeiaMy loose, vague, and iitcoht-r«nt. This is 'espfciaily ap-
parent when he flpeaki of the lutural history of the family.
Tttuf, for insUnce, h« tells uf : "The physical attraction of sex
''rings together the first human pair* more probably solitary
'Kan gregarious, and between that pair^ etc." It would be in-
'*5rejting to know how the first pair, in the circumstaaces
■*^ cntionedj coulil possibly be gregarious.
Agatn he says: "Three form? of social organisation affect-
*^ ^ the family will naturally arise, over which as to their ex~
'^^>it and order, there has been much controversy, but the mor^t
** ^tural order seems to be ; *' lat- Communism with more or lcs»
l^romiBCuity ; 3d. The matriarchate , . , ; jd. The patriar-
chate." The question at once arises: What does the author
'^Cftn here by the natural order. A natural order docs not
^Tscesiarily mean the real and actual order. We must credit
^^r, Ha£;ar, however, with having expressed the conviction that
^ommuniBm with more or less promiscuity was noE the hrit
form o£ social organiration, despite the fact that he aeu it
4awn as the fittx form in the so called natural order.
The author informs u& that : " The extent or order of the ex*
iitence of these family forms is not so significant." This is a
Urange appreciation. Hven supposing the cKLStcnce of a com-
munTMn with more or less promiscuity^ its oider and extent,
with reference to other family forms, would be profoundly sig-
alficant. But it is moit sJgnii^Gani that the contention that
Llh«rc exUted a comniuniam with anything like a general sexual
promiscuity is absolutely unlcnflble.
Iq apeaking of the family infttituilon, Mr, Hagar declaiea
ttut; "Among many, daughter! were fiitecmed of lc» value
4<6
New Books.
[Dec.
ihan JODE, a fact which \cA to female infanticide." The author
found this >fat«(ncnt in McLcnnan's Primitive Marriagt. A
cursor/ study of anthropological authorities fiince McL«nnan's
time, however, would have discovered to him how thoroughly
unwarrantable such a £Utcment \%, Female infanticide was
never the general practise. Mr. McLennan reprc^ients it to
have b(;en. And^ (or reasons thai i^Iearly show that among
primitive or rude peoples daughters were not esteemed oE Jess
value than sons, we wouM refer our iiiilhor to TUon's and
Howitl's work, Kaituiarffi and /Curttai^ P^K* 'ii ^^'^ foL
The author i$ more effective and interesting whcc he s^S-
drtsses himseir directly to his subject: The American Family and
the sociological problems ic preseuts. The changed legal and
economic status of woman, her higher education and her en-
krged sphere of actEvity, have brought about an anomatoua
condition chat seriously menaces the siabiliiy and unity ot the
family. This condition the author describes, in Kantian phra-
seology, as oue of "paralysing intersex antinomies." To the
wifc^ he piiEntg out, are now ^iven equal Le^''ai and economic
rights with Elie husband, while she airll enjoys largely the im-
munity from responsibility that characterised her ancient do-
meatio relations. This enlarged power* without a proportion-
ate increase of responsibiEity* has given rise to an unjust dis-
tribution of marital burdens, that noi only introduces a dis-
rupting and unbalancing force amon^ those who have contracted
marriage, but act^ as a &troti^ dcierreiit upon the young man
who would enter upon that state.
It is to be regretted that Mr. Hagar did not confine him-
self to the laak of developing, with more coxicreteness and
conaecutivenesf, this interesting point, which atone his title-
page calls for- As it U, his wide disctirsivencss has resulted
in a woric lacking in due proportion and unity.
In his foreword, Mr Hagar tells us that: "Because of 1h«
greatues» and importance of the topic, it could only be exteo-
aively treated in a work of this sixc by the utmost brevity of
style, and by leaving unexpressed a very large portion ol the
Lntermediile ideas." . . "H there be found gapA la the
lines of thinking it is osbed that the reader fill up the inter*
vab with hia own connecting thought,"
It Lfi just because of the greatness and importance of the
topic that we would say that the author, in a book of thb
I
190S.]
Neh' Books.
417
liiie. ihould be at pains (o diminnti! all mailer, evc^n though \t
be rcEjiicd, thflt L^of:^ na\ bear immediately upi^n the ftubjeci
whTcb, dednvd and qualitiedi he announccK on the titlv-pagc.
In so doing, he would be able lo avoid the gaps in the tines
of chinkinj; which ito author Is jugiificd in calllEi^ upon his
rejidcr* continuftlly Co fupplyn
This U a pamphlet* of I J psges,
A PERPETUAL CALENI>AR. written by Father Woodman, C,S,1\
By Pr. Woodmaa. It conUin» ir; popular foim a Urge
fiind of informaiion about calen-
ilan and daws. Dy siniplc inspection oi three tables, the dates
of the principal f«a&t« of the Christian year may be readily
Ascertained— from the year i to the year 5,000- Rules and
formulas arc f^iven to csrry on the process indefiniuly. The
cUles given in the tablet are thote oh A»h Wednesday, Eas<
ter Day. Ascension Day. Trinity Sunday, and AdvenF Sunday*
One hat only to loolc in one table for a mimbtr, in another
for a ////rr. and in a third (by combination of riutnber and tct-
trr) lor the dales desired.
Beside thU there is a table for telling the day r/ tht wi^k
on whic^h any date falls, and there are also rules for delerciin-
tag the sjime wiihout tabks.
The pamphlet comain* a mass of inFormaiion about calcn^
4«ri in gencrtl, which must have taken great pains 10 get to-
gether, and nhicb is presented in a very popular^ readable^
And ondentandable way.
In StHrmsfc\ the author attempts
STUGHSEE. to teach a number of social truths
UEidfir the form of fiction. Phi-
<hy and i^entintertt, business management and love* co-
fatir>Ti and eomperition are wovrn into a nnrraiive thst is
interesting enough, if aT times taxings Some well-selected
typeat noubly the settlement worker, the employer, the rfl*
former, the rich young man. the high-minded politician, arc
placed before the reader in faithful portrait; and a number of
wesiU^ typical of our social conflicts, ate introduced, among
voi- Lxxxt;.— 1^
4IS
AVr»' Books.
[Dca,
them, the strike, the failure of a co-operaTivc bijsincsj verTurc.
aa as&^ainaiicn, a bcncvoLeot cniplojcf's plan oi bcttcim^nt
for his workmen who later kill hinu
There is too much aociat philosophy m the book to irler-
tiK the general r&adcr of (iction^'aDd possibly too much fic-
tion iji it in <iiiit the serious Aludent, Vet, on the whole^
Sturmsee abounds in lessons of heallby conservfilism aifd con*
veva much social information. Those who wish to get th«
whole LinpDTt of ihe work, will find in the epilogue a sum-
mary of the greater number of lessons which it teaches.
This work* which, though n9t yet
LOURDES. a yeai old, has reached a, third
By Bertrin, edition, was composed at the re*
que£t of the Bishop of Tarbei, in
order that he might present it, in the name of Ihe dioce&e in
which Lourdc5 is situated, to the Maria! Congress that assembled
jn Rome last December for the jubiJcc of the definition of (he
TmntaculaLE Conception, The history of the mliaculous mani-
festations at I.ojfrie^ has already been written by ihfee pens
that have proved not unworthy ol the grand theme. The nar-
rfttive of M- Estrade, relating mainly his own pei&onal expert-
encea and observation*, and Dr. Bossaraire's collection of rtmatk-
able cures wrought at the shrine, are less known outside of
France than the book of M. Henri Lasserre. The present vol-
ume dcraonslrales that there was room for yet another of a
more critical character than any of Its predecessors, that should
vindicate the supcmalural character of the visJocs and the cures
against the objections which have been invented to attack the
evidence that supports itr
The present writer first relates simpiy, in charming French,
the history of the apparitions, and exposes (he futility of the
various attempts made to reduce them to the hatlucinatton of a
child, or merely natural events distorted by a vivid imagination
or exaggerated by hearsay. He afterwards selects, front recent
years, some well-chosen cases in which the palpable nature o\
the maladies, their aggravated character and their nocoiieiy,
are beyond dispute, while, at the same lime, the restoialion of
i905]
NEiv Books.
419
th« piticQts xo health ab so lul el y refuses to be cxplaititd by ihc
thet:>ric£ ol suggcsLion, unknown forces, etc.
Three or four of Lhc cases have been taken ficm ihose ihet
occurred about the time when 2o1a vUited Lourtle^ to obraift
material for his book, One of the pcifions whose cure is re-
lated< Mane Lamarchand, is the Elite Rouquet of ZoJa'e pag«£.
M. Bertrin convicts him of having f&laificd the evidences of
whit occurred under his own eyes> A voluminous appendix
conlainst besides a chronoto^ical list of all the miraculous inter-
ventiona that have taken place at Lourdes, a siatiatical table of
the d{£ea.Ees involved, ft large mass of authenticated tncdJcal les-
Ijmony alilesEing Lhe ^upernaEural character of the curc^-
Though the piety and the Uhh of the author arc obvioup,
M. Bcrtnn Iceepa the pergonal and emotional well under re-
straint; for hi^ marn purpnse is rather to convince the sceptic
thnn to edify the believer. Kut believers, loo, wiil be pleased
M finding the events eslablithed by proof that is prcpaicd to
meet the most rigid scientific scrutiny. And when God tpeaks,
as he doe« at Lourdes. those whu undertake to disaeminaie the
message abroad by their pens best i^\t\ the task by tfTacing
themselves as much ab pOEstblc*
jfocciQti ipccio&icals.
''jhUt (u Oct.): The Rev. F. M, Clancy recently de-
livered, lU Biriningham, an elaboralc addrrss on th« Kdti^
i:aiion Question. Therein he endeavor* io show the in-
justice under whkh English CachoJics suffer. &nd advances
ttieorie^ Ciilcutat«d to safeguUTd edaCdiional rights and to
insure the peaceful progress of general education. He
coniends that the Unionist government " hai played the
lool with Calholics," A leader i^ktb exceptinn to The
Father's eNTreTHc viewSj and consitters it a strange pro-
ceeding, to bring the above charge against a govern-
ment manifestly anxious to concitiate both panics. aE
the Act of 190^. abolishing favoriTifm and in<quahiy,
and grantrng to ail public eiemeniary scboob ati equal
claim for their maintenance, abundanily prov^Sn Above
alt, aj^ya the Icidiir, iet U3 have a respite from unau-
thorizfld programmea. and aJL sorts of oratorical excur*
•lonfi and alar ma.
(21 Uct,): The Roman Correspondent notes lh(^ re-
markable success of the American students in the I'ropa-
ganda examin^LLons, Special aiTcction serins to be &hown
them by the Pope and !he Cardinal S<!cretary of State,
(jti Oct.): The Archbishop ot Paris has received a letter
from the Pope la which the French Catholics are en*
couraged to face wilhoul kar the ever increasing dJffi'
cuUics, and to seek, by fervent prayer, the light and
help which God alone c^n give.
Tkf Month (Nov.): A review 0/ Archbishop Healy's Life of
St. F^triik by Fr. Thurston has the first place in Ihit
iBstie. The quality of the work which most impces&cd
the reviewer is its complctenese. The review is devoted
almost exclusively to a consideration of ihe chapter on
Ctoagh Patrick — the fpot where the ApoAtle of Ireland
prayed and fasted for forty day£< and. accariiing to Dr-
Bury. the ^cene of the saint's six. years' enslavement.
Fr. Thurston expresses his surprise at the readiness wUh
which the author receives the tradition of St- FatticU'*
great age of one hundred and twenty years, simply be-
cause \\ ia stated by all biogiapbecs "The Wiida of
Limerick'* is Lhe title under which M. F. Quinlan gives
I90S.]
FOSKiCN PK/trODlCALS.
-I-SI
an cxcccilinnly clever account of a trtp io lirulT- Fr,
Gernrd offer; some adverse criticisms on the second and
revised edition of Tabard'* Hmry VJJl On ihc whole
ihe work has been much improved by tevifiioir, ajid is far
lesft □bjeciionabJe to Caihohc readers than in its original
form. Vet there are some poirits on vfhich Fr. GeTArd is
compEl^ed to take i&fiue with Ihe author \ as, for instance,
Ihe "Rood of Grace" aTid (he e^recutioTi nf More and
Fithef,
Thg DmWi'h AVfj>Tf (Oct. J: Under the iLlte *' Universak and the
IlUttve Sense," Rev. Francis Aveling. D-D., postulate*
that, throughout the Grammar cf Asunt there runs a seme-
Ihing cuHouEly unfamiliar, an unusual re«tle£&neff. and
that there we do not find the famlltar touch of Newmsn,
The wrher then offers as an txpTanaiton of ihi? »t)d abo
of the fruitful controversies to which the Gmmifiar hat
giv«n rise, the fact that there is in this work of Cardinal
Newman a ^'conscious or unconsclot^r omi&iion ol the
theofy of universal^/' or '* a £ubstitution of some other for
the true teaching of the schools." He ul^o adds thai:
'* Had Father Newmwi written the Grammar af Atunt
4lon«, and then taid aside hia buey pen. 1 question
whether he would live at all lo.day in his writing."- ■
The Rev. Dom Birt. 0,S B,, gives the third initaimenl
of his article on "Religious InHueuce^ in London," io
which he reviews a work of Charlefi Uoofh under a simi-
lar title, and finds that the non-CaUiollc religious influ'
ence* in London are being diverted from their proper
«iid and thereby greatly weakened, thns it^vin^ the
Catholic Church a*i the only orgjmi/.ation which can rfo
effectual work in reclaiming the London masses DJ£-
po»ins in a few paragraphs of Professor Haechei's ex-
planation of the source of duty, A. B, Shflrpc, MA.^in
ftti trtiGk on the " Conscience of RationaJistn/' endeavors
to >how "how the authority of eonsclenco may proba-
bly he able to assert itself when the ides of God. on
which it ultimately depends, \h ignored or rejected."
MUs J, M- Stone cijnlributed an arlicle on "Joseph
Gootres: His Wurk and Hi* Friends," in which we are
aflorded an interesting giimpic of that nineteenth century
COnvfttt and brilliant writer. It ia to be regretted that
422
FOUKiaN F£aiODlCALS.
Lum..
the vcopc of the article did nat include some deiaiU of
bU conversion Other article* ; "Henry III, and the
Church"; "Dicuih An Irish Mvnk in the NJntb Cen-
tury"; "Some Popish Traiiofs,"
Tfii Chunk Qua^Ier!y Hevurt' <Oct,): A series of articles dc*
fending the Jchantiine authorship clofcs tn lbj£ itumber
with a remarkable pappr an |he relation of Ihe Fourth
Gospel to the Synrjptic tradition. The writer answers the
principal objections based on the Synoptic story^ namely,
that the description of John the Baptifit in the Fourtb
Gospel is incompatible with the record in the other
three: that miracles in the Synoptics are mere acts of
benevolence, whereas, in The Fourth Gospel they are re-
garded ag p Tool's ol divmity ; and finally, that the charac-
ter and claims of our Lord are different in the two ac-
counl^^^.An essay on Libeial Tticolotiy *=oniraat» Con-
servatism and Liberalism as two forms of progre$5i>-e
thought, differing in this, that the characierisiic note of
the fir^t is ita preoccupation with the corporate life and
historic continuity, and Ihe preoccupation of the fatter
is with liberty and novelty^ Liberal Theology attempts
to transmute the Christian mcs^aK^ Into modern speech^
An ailicit on Ihe spiritua] care oi invalids pJeada
for greater attention to those wbo are unable to go to
Church, and recommends regular visitation, and» when
possible, the admini&Lr^tion of floly Communion, saying
if the Church gradually relinquishes this part of her
ministry, tho work and its reward will pasa to oiherv
who are already gaiheriny in souls. " Hymna and
Hymn Hooks" lorm the subject of an interesting article.
Some of the changes introduced by revisers of hymns are
protnted against, "Why are some of Ihe mo»t beauti-
ful verses of 'Abide With Me/ and two of the Hve pre*
ctout verses of 'Jesij^ Lover (if my Soal,' not even given
for optional uncT Why is Faber*s hymn. ' J«au, Gentleal
Savior.' made into a hymn of private intcrpf elation by
omission of the cosmic touch?
"Nature cannot hold ihee,
Heaven is all too stiait
For thine endless glory
And Ihy royal state.
'905'] FO/t£/G.v Periodicals^ 433
"Out beyond the sh^nhg
Of the furthest star,
Thou RTt ever airctching)
Infinitely far."
A writer on Siiso finds it ndiculous to £Lippo» thai
hiB f^ith as a Christian and a Catholic wa» noC the
centre and kernel Qi his life. HU creaii»c» are valuable
as exempli [y!itg both the beauties and the dan^erfe of
my5iici*m.
Li CorrtsfffnJattt (lo Oct.): Id a critical review of Augu&te
SabatTcr's work. Religions 0/ Auth^riiy and Rtli^ioH t/
fkt S^fiirit, V. Ermoni gives at) extensive and kindly
commentary on Ihe religious philosophy of the author
and the influence of his book- The purpose of ihe
rrviGW is lo sejiaraie ihe false from the true in M,
Sabatier'^ theory, and, while approving the true, to
»how the evils and dangers that will result front the
untrue. Against the main idea 0I Sabatier, that all re-
ligions of authority will disappear in time, the reviewer
thowt that past and present ethnjc hiato;y i^ivfs «o war-
rant of such an event- The study of compararivc reli-
gions shows that authority has always been vested in
some external authority^ Sabatler appeals to the GoS'
peh for verilicAtion of his thci^is that the religion of ihe
spirit will supplant all religions of authority. It is, in-
deed, true to say that our Lord ga^^e great prominence
to the interior guidance of the spirit, bul it is uiKrue
to >ay this was the on/y guide he intended us to have,
He gAvc to Peter the power of the keys and placed hjm
aa a thepherd over a flock, thereby constituting an ex-
ternal authority in religion that was freely recogniTied
by th« early Christiana and by tnJUicn» down to our
own day^ M. Ermoni is c^uile willing to admit that
Contci^nee is an iniermediary of vast imporiflncC) but at
ibe a*m< time contends that ihi$ very voice of conscienc*
calU for another intermediary, namely, external authority.
i»S Oct.): ConBeiiuenl upon the Anj^Jo-Japanear, the
Anglo-French, and the Franco-German alliances. Marcel
Duboia contributed an Article of consjderable length. The
first ailimice arose mainly from a desire lor peace and
4J<
PO/tElCS PERfODTCALS.
[Dec,
protection; the second Irom good fcHings on the pwi
of both parties; and the ihJrd, wbiTc it aimed at rdiev-
in^ the attained relations between France and Germany
in Morocco, has only partially succeeded. It has popped
the troubles for ft \\iv\e. but there «1:1L exint a hostile
feeiing in both nations^' "Contalvj at FarU in I$14>'*
by De Richemoni, i^ an account nf ihai celcbrnlcd Car-
dinal's troubtcs in France, of hJB relations with Pope and
Emperor, and of his attitude towards the Concordat.- — -
L. Fiedler gives ob an interesting hkeUh of the vast
amount of work undertaken by the International Con-
gress, In order to check the ravages of tuberculosis.
From October 2 to ^^ seasionB, attended by doctors from
all ovtr the world, were held at Parts, nnd the moM im-
portant questions concerning ihj» disease were trcatcd-
AnniiUs de Phxhi&phii CAr/fiiHHe iOct^)i An eiiitorlal anaounce-
xilvitt. whij^h IS an abte exposLtion oi the principles on
which, from its insrltuticn. the magadne has worked at
the task of doctrinal synthesis and construction, aflirRia
its determinalion In continue Ihe past policy in th« lull
exercise of the inidleGtual Ubeny which is not alone
compatible uvith, but aiso the truest foundation of » obedi-
ence to spiritual authority M. l^abbe Birot, Viear-
Gencral of the diocese of Albi, aketehes the rr'-it which
at present devolves on rdigious phiiosophy, M. P.
Duhem opens a rcjoiniltr I^ a critjci&Jn passed oit some
of hit views concerning questions of natural phiiosophy
by M, Abel Ray in the Rfvtif dt Mtlafhysifue tt 4*
MGratt. The gist of M, Ray's strictvrrs was that M,
Duhcm allowed his faith 10 d[cla!e his philosophy-
VL. F. Mallet examines the works of Cardinal Deschamps
to prove that ihEs Belgian Rcdcmptoriit, Archbishop, md
Cardinal, £ixty ycdit '^j^o, iiiaintainrd the chief HpoJo-
|rotic theses which recently have beeri so widely attacked
as novelties, when propounded by MM, Blondel, La-
be rthonn it-re, and their agiiociitltis.
La Quinsaine (16 Oct): A review of the philosophical wotid
of the present day Is written in (his number by Uiehel
Salomon, The greater part of the article ii taken up
with non-Cathohc phiiosopbicai thought, cspcciatly with
tbe •ystein of Positivism that has tprun^ up frotn the
WS]
f^REranr Periodicals.
435
UborB of AugtistG ComtC' The almQst universal contempt
for meUpbyslcs U saclly nolkcabU^ The growing im<'
partancc of psychology, paycho-physics^ and kindred
branchei. is noted with coniiderablc appr^cUUon. The
rehabLlita^iion of 5i. ThoinA& is considcrfd of vast im-
porrance^ for Catholic philosophy, especially in view of
the fact thai the neo-schola^rJcism \& happily Treed of all
the " frivolous £iibt1eii«s " and " slavifib repmiiions " that
clung to the ^chola^iliciiin o\ the riTleenlh and sixtccEilb
centuric?, The reo-Thnmism has received courteous rc-
cogdilJoQ from mjiny modern n:en of fdencc^ NamcA
prominentty aasociaEcd wllh present-day Calh^lic philuso-
phy are those of Bcrgson, B^ontJel, Le Koy, Wilbois,
&nd Oll^-Laprune,
Sft^di Kfiig^iesi (ScpL-Ocl.J: An arlicle tiEEieid X 6ommaii*es
the recent studies that have appeared in various French
magajEines oq the naiuie of a dcgma. He finds that the
debate has been placed within Ihcic two terms: 1, Every
diJ^ma Uas a prar^ttcal moraJ value^ it rneans aoraelhing
for Christian life and experience: 2. Ev«ry dogtua has
&n intellectual and ^ptculative value, ft rcpre&entE objec-
tive reality. The contrcvcrsy ragus bcturcn those who
would minimiic the value of dogmas which have less 10
do with conduct, on the one <ide, and those wlir^ would
emphasize fhe absolute inirlleciual vnliie oi alJ riog-
njM t* parts ol eternal truth, on the other Salv^torc
Minocchi, wriliog on sympathy for suffering animal^p
wnniH hiH Italian felEow counir^men not to ridicule sode*
tie* for preventing cruelty 10 ati'imaU which are now
b«!ng established in Etaly, as they have long been in
Germfiny, Kngland, and America. He s^yi that while
pity for animals in dUtrcii may go to rldEculout cNtreaies,
n«verth«lcii« it i», in itftelf, m Bcntiinent upringing directly
from Christian piety, and must appeal to every heart
that haji been aoficncd by ihc spirit of ihe Go»pcl.
5. M. declare! that Mary Magdalen and Mary the *Ul«c
tff Lazarus were two different persons,*- — -1^, Uuonaimi
write* of the KosmiriiHn revival.
Bitli^4 (October): ?. Lagrai^ge writes on MessJahitm
1(3 the time of our Lord> anil i:ivct:L nn ^irialyaii? uf one
ttr two apocalyptic docuiDenls of Jewish origin, but n<)C
J>
i
^-^^-- ^: '^ r^:= Lie eaj
■^^ -- ~'^c= ,rr -ix-se ol
- ; ^i . ^.—izzz^ The E
- — ^- t.r:-sr :-' t^ii T-th the
:- ^^--^'t: ;: :::;r:or plan
_ „^ ^ ::::-:^;;:h ccniuj
, -r-^i. , .--^ij^ u:: S:r Davj<
T^' T- :-- :r-_-; ila-ct Er
^■ »r--i :o dele
~ - ri-:: * rjj lirrted in
- ,-^ - r ' ^iv* :hc di!
T -. Jt „^- ;r _: _-:,:.r-o ki
I. -.-;_ , -, — .",'." ^.^jmelrt
'- -r ^- ^'_v^:: ;: a recent
*T :;— -^ :'--"r!ii,: Hoensb
■ ^, ^ -i. > :;;;-^: tiat ihe
^ "isi.^*;.-: :" — _?•:: :o pay
-,-■ ■?■ := r-;-.cd his c
. '^ '> - ifj-,';^; ziiz :ne cone
-«, -,. z-^-t tii =o oblig
^„ -. ^~* sM <-:;s on fhe 1
; -^^r-^ ,T '-" S^natofe G
r^S-]
FoxEiQN Periodicals.
4^7
makfls an appeal lo the Jews of Tialx, in which he say*
that they have been unlike the Hebrews of other coun-
cHes in this, that there has been neither Scmiltsm nor
Aatl-Semilism. He deplores the recent appearAnce of an
[ulian Hebrew at the Semitic Congress, flMd hopes Lhai
the present happy condiiit^n of things wiJl not be dis*
. turbed by agitators.
(r Nov.); Antonio Fogat^aro publishes the first chap-
ter of his tiew novel, // Same, A letter is published
from Cardinal Capecelatro to his flock on the occasion
of the twenty- fifth anniversary of his elevation to the
episcopate,
SUmmFH Atts Maria Laach {2\ Oct): Tr, J. B[o«tKer, S,J,, con*
Iributea a paper or The Eslithliikment of Chtisliamty,
a work comprifjifig sixteen lectures delivered in the Uni-
versity of Berlin, during the past year, by Professor
Pfleidcrer, in which he undertook to treat the ongin of
th« Christian religion from a standpoint purely hiElotical.
The author in the preface to his work insinuates that
adentitic history has heretofore found little place in
Cttrlstian apologetics. He atao contends, with Professor
Harnack. that no absolute judgment? can be made con-
cerning a supefoatural religion from the data afforded by
a purely historical survey, Fr, Eloeixcr's review is de-
voted almost exclusively to an adverse criticism of thcie
views. History, he goes on to show, furnishes us with
clear and indubitable facts concerning the origin of
Christianity and the pefson and character of its founder.
The data of history, moreover, is the very foundation on
which Christian apologeiics is constructed,' H. Koch
writes on *' Labor and the Employers of Labor in the
Greater Induitrics/' A. Huouder, "Japan'* Voices and
Hopcf." A Stockman, " Co unless Hahn Hahnn"
TH1-; COLUMBIAN REAIIINR UNIO\.
MARKING A noiabie and tJcnUiCAai era in its vca yeari of Mudy and le*!
rDttnULRK dkit of iti £nt dende by a pleaunT cflfbraiitim- Th« ti-ntcmbfri
^fli|faiiti] in pvery frtpcci. Thff nitciin|[ »a> held Jn C^^lumbus, flhio, xtl
3t> JcAcpb't AcAil«iny. "hich wa> dMonlcd wuh palm*, feiQi, aad AmGiiuJ
Bcftut-r rowt, ili« club 6o*m^
* Ttv<fV *at ■ brrtf prDfr^mnw, eppned by Mn, lam^i A. All^n. tht
preittltm, *h«, alCfr fkUaijEnt a irekcitic tc xlt pcticni, tpijke of thr fplta*
did irork *bich bjid hvtn juccuuLplithtd b}- ihv Cii-de tinfr iia Dtssniiaiion ;i
«| the ti*jty «! puri>oie ahich baj aEnnyt marked It* clforti; of ilt pKiidj
racucd »1te l«M aod noit nc<ti»fiil Caibolk feeding t^Udc iiv CvluiiilvutiJ
KBid 9«4BBVd «Mb prldv to it> pQdiJco af the iTco£pi»d ciponent of Catbolii
Unwy ■cUc««inrni in xhr Capinl Ciiy <>i OliiOr
F«IIfr*in( Un. Alke'a ncvllvni talk, came Mlm Maud Fl^Aa'« dvZigbi-
Iwl papvr m '* RcaibilMac«a." ^
Utaa Lida R«a« HcCabc'i kcrvfc on " The PrcachJTii Frianin F)«nn-fl
tittr Ar<"i Kc*. A]t>rit Kdnbari. O.P., on "SavosuiqU" and " Perc Ln-
c^rdairt"! aad Kw. F. A. GaffnFj'i t»o Icriurcs on DJinir wrnr al&o pTcai.
aaUv n<aU«d' Ssmbftrtd amohg che kind ftj«nd» of the Circk «cre alio
pcvv. F' W, Han-ard, vhd {avi; a fine ^ddrvn on i^t. Thamat Aitulnai ; Mrt.
Ft^. vhotf paptr on Robert Burni and the recuaTioTi of hit pfxm^ «m a
V4t« plaaMrc; -M:>i SuIberUndp who u^ve iwo oRtertunmi; ialk.i, one on th«^
pottty ol :ibakTipr4re, and Ihn cihei on George Kl^olj and Mr. Jouph A. fl
Cgaa, «faa cure an able addrm on the ff Hfiout dement in Sbakeipeait.
AUq Mt. \»tnn U. Kandall, the Sautbefn poei> *ho appealed before tbe Cir-,
• ■ «
Marer HeCletU^'* nceni ^iddrcu lo the aludenU of Fordhjin iTDlver-]
Illy t«ni4lTi«d timely a<fmonktl«na lor all seeking lo karri <be Te»ont of hE»-{
lo»y- While eocofl raging lntel1e«u*l advincemcni for tllecHTe citttenabip,
tiid ilie larmaiion of a tale and lound (jublJc cpinioni he boldly affitmed the
*lat*ment, tkippnricd by many *\iimpT<;i from Ami^riean hi^rnry, ibai *'to be
ap»trl«ldMi uol neceiiard) ivt^uire an rducatLon," In pirt h« apoke »^
Cvprrl^ncv hat tauglit ub thnt fhc m&st ^ani;erot]i Theoriei of ibc pt«i
4ild (Inii ilibattfiJiiB retulM Emvc n4>[ alwit been due id i-lie va^uiet ul tbcor-
litt ar the plDtiinf of ffae tricked. Hitiory lias thobFi n^akn and i^in vbal
Ihty kiiu]d have died from non^iuppon if iho»e wha hail riiJed h»d not beea
Kit dr«rt «f InjuiiLcc lo iht pvople, Lht IcmrnLeit ol d.iionitnl and [he Mb-
ir»ne(i *l llio pfl»poifl»of Kovernmeni. And Tbi* a«p<£.'t of ihrfMfiiol Ur
I(ir4tii liiUfnl to m than any abatraci TCMonins, (tii it bTm|<t ut lice IQ
f40« Bllb thf moil itrioiia will of our day* If vrc 4fG to avoid in oat «d
I
<90S.]
TME COLUVBfAS READiKQ VNiOS.
439
coi;»rrr fri^fTiKont of piges fA biiior)' ibil have b»n di»fl^trou» (0 other
icutffni, w^' muBi (ndcflvor 10 cftcci ihc tiiirpjii^on of Tht'ir cnusiSs
ETCry ifr hmt it> evils. We have ourtn Bui v*e ipuit n*t *ipetl lh»t
ihetice* vfiicli hive dcaitoyed others ^will not dticiroy iit tf we permit ihvm 10
endure. Out bewHinj air is ■vnricc. Our in»d rush Jcr *ta][h ii not an
kanen tlTon to iflcrc/Lt? Ihc pi-Dduci* uE nature ot Ihc avftiU oi hkiinm cfiofi,
buEibide^ui *t« pf evcr-inweasioe and ipsaHhIjIp greed. V«r b^ yeur *e
Hc it invariint Eh« s:ovethnieni wfih ever^IncTcBaing tudvf 4iy. Men err «Vit
AKtimt Uininl tn9n«T— ^^^' '^^ ^ti vile r«cotd bcliinil i(- What ne hkve to
leut* manr<r *hii:h TAinl^, wh^fla hrjiecfit)' Tem|]i!« n^en lo sell Ihvir hnnnr,
And (hen buyi iu
No gJCJit rcpublk wiis ever sliuck ^own by the mailed hind ol brute
\v^ unttl h had fif*i eialied the fnoney-loytf tc ihc pbw ol iru« which only
rhr tnan 9T Honor should be aitigned Lo giiA'd. Lti ua nut ihi^i oui ere*.
Tiut etil invfljim U5< k is le^lly The only vice uhich dc^iop jutuouam.
Tfte hurt of thf wnnhiprkPT aP Mammon lo^es pv^ry apfiiimfni M [rwe 'at
God arcouDlry, With iX\ liHinful inAucnce m piiv^ile life I sm rrjl now con-
(trneit I »|feak of il» btreEul cfle{:i> Eipon the inaiituljoni of om [:iiiiniry,
irhen It Ku<y«Fdi In dehiuchfnjK the represcntnti^ei al the people to hctrAy
<fa« people'* rlEUip Tot ihcinnchinenl oT the unlawfully privLlegvd fev.
L<l ui noi drEude ourtfljv?* wiih in^thitcry. The irmn »ho belrflya I114
public tniit for money, by roiiipBn«r>n> mfikfa thf crime of lleneJici Arnold
it«k into inftigniliUJKc. 4nd ]end» a retpectJible hue cvrn to piracy. Wc
kftO» the uiual (emit when eorrupiion beconiei prevnleni in high plnc*s.
Tkc people do not tebpect and obey the ^lawfully (on«T|tiiied niitborilie)' You
nADOl compel rttpeti by foice. and II jou CcuW Ibe auccest of the cffoit
woutd ni*rk iho end of a free proplir- And surtjyj if con&iliui«d luthoriiy
beconeidefrad^d by ill own irmion in The people, ir will nel tntpirp ihe tt-
feprcl occTKi-'ry fur ihe fCL^n of Ihw mid order- SbouLd Uivt EfJ|fEi cexsc it
vould nurk ihc end of th? ivpuhlk- Do not* t be)[ of you, Ihinh m? unduly
pM«lnUti?, Thinh Cod^ oar detirucilon U not ti hand, Tb« «viE h*i not
y el iprva^ enough for ihiL Uul the danger it h«r», tnd aU gijod t;liljeni>
rt^riAlIy ifanv who* llb<iral rdu^Minn scid [mined intellceis tnKblr ihf m to
ddcern the naliirc and tendency 0I the evii, m«£t wnrd it ot!-
CoiitAfv ik re4uitcd tor ibe ifork* itnd patience, and prudence. To
doeri ftneb a cause in d«palr {« ihe aei of one who hii loit faith in himwlf,
as veil u In human nature, h regulrn no hrsterical dii;»lay. no resorl f<^
viibontiT thtontt. Ii cnn be nccomplLsh«l b>' brthimc about n reiutn of ibe
old virtue* of pimple, hnnoTabln manhnndi the rnrooraj>ement of an intrHi'
^nt patntftitm, and the mainlenance of the eqmlity cpf all men. poor or
nch, bvforc the Uw, When yuu' eairieilneia link made the dant^er [jiain,
tb-e dvifCT viti hare been averted. The expprlcn^e of ihe harm done nnd
tbo4t^n(vr a'Oidffd will bui increiie oui nock of wiidom-
I orf* yoa with «U Ibe vnrnntntru thai i« in rn«, n«^f r to forgvt, n yau
go ihfODcb lif«, ihar the ^tur^ of fnrttLor whicli makr« you educatrd ifrnilr-
mvn. impoHt upon you the duty of btiiimg for the diffutioa of those prtrici-
pln of K°**r'^<'ic''< which will make for the pnce and proipciLiy oi oui
^mniry-
430
The CorMMS/AN reading uifioN.
{Decj
Th« Jobn Doyli! O'Rcidy Hciilm)! Cirde, of Botlon, tind * piiilor-Ulk by
MiA Alice Hifi^iELSt ^ccrctdiy of ihc Attoujiletl CikfriEJct- Ai a ivoc&l
mcelinj;, Mjh lilory C A. ToUnd, k^halrmjrt of tht commfrtcc od tfudlHi
rvfiuilcd irt Uvoj of i«1ccii^Jii liom Jiinc Auiten^i novcli, liom ihe blogr4-
phiM and fLciion of Mt^- G>ik<<l^ from Ihe nov^le of TbackvniP, and of
AiTivrion fi^tinn. Aldri^h'^ Af.irsfrif Daw, anrl ihr twtt of tbr trivcl-bnaka
And tionm o' t^iLf Lrmi^lai \Vi|{)fia, The itudy cil " Kinj[ Lrtr"wt:% At««
ncommdndfiEl. alKi Otvticx A- BfifwiuotL*! *^Cunverl." mtli ■ tlicTcli 41J th«
ditliriEuJihcdAurhar'i hft. and the pUcc he Qlli in AmcTifin Catholic HIv
iury. The clk»iC4l KniiUth literature it>ovc-named wdl, of couiie, be c«»*
fidcred Irom cbp CaiboUc iinndpolnl, «Dd oireevcoiiiG « nioi>ih hiU b* g>t*M
10 ii.
Oil ihn «fii;ahdinefiLn|| Dleacb mooth Ihe tludy o£ Djbtc chanictci«iiiU
bit GonlJnurd. Bciiikk the re^ul-tr Erblurv <i}ui>«, EiitiiUk of (}ie CiitEt hnw
kindly pt^miifd p«rior-taik4 for all ihc mW-monih m*eUn(;*- The Rf».
WilljAin J, D*yTC) u[ ^i- M^^y'i of Lbe AnnunciPL^oo, <i noubl« Uanit echo-
tnri will £tve sevcial Id1k& dtl ihe DivtMa C^Mmn/ia dunnj; Lhe Kaion, sb^,
lh< Ri- Rrv. M^r. Arthur }. Tcieline, n.[X, P.K., of St. JMAiy'^ Lynn, «j
dflicnb* bU rvceni Wiii 10 ibe Holy Litnd.
rtiP ^Coir? DAme Ri-Ailinje Gidfr, ot Bculon.htUl biu h goodly MClenc
■nfc of inlcrealcd member*.
Mitt Mtiiy Scj^rita h-ib Lhe Appointed k'dei and ananscd a vtty «Dj«]««
l>le proeramfne for a ret«rni meeiing- MIm Marie MtCornick's (Mper,
*' Oljvei Wvndc^l I-falmra ns a Pof i,*' vrxs mo^t Inietc^tin;, ^nd dtpicird Dt.
Kalm?s in h;i ],ivorLtc phc^ac. Several (tfadmgb ivcie ^nvn from iha wriL^r'v
pncms— -Tho One Hob* Shay," by Mte* Cl;ira Pleflrri " Tbr L»si Lcii,"
by MLh Katbfrinc McGovccHi jqU " Tb( Chambered KauIUu>," by Ui*»_
Kalbcriac DoyU- fl
■ • ■ ^^
The Ktgcntf AceepHd Dr^ Devey't retignaiion ffom tb« dirtCbOttbif^
of tb« library *nd lioims Educaiionj] de par I men is, ;d Ukv cflfCt vn Janiiat^
r, t^oS. The date (or ij^king el!ef:t of bia TCaignKlion m dirrcror o4 il
LibrHiy School it left /or later detcrntlniliDD,
There wu no Inilication ^t the meeting ol ibe Kegenti «! the f rieiioi
which hflS 4:i]1minaied in the retirernem of I>t. Di^wcy, :ind l^w^iid Lautei
b4ch tocondcd Lbia rfboluiian of comrnendBiiar otTered by Pilny T. SeiLt^;
ke^olved, Th^i the ciccMiiu]> of the rt-aiunuLicn oE M«IvU Uvwfjr from o(ti
ciil reUmn m ibe rilLic^tionfll work of the Stale r* an opporiitnitT for ih^
CkprcMiDn oi ifr-tlcfui recvjjiutLon and imceie ippredatioa by lb< Kvgent^
ol Ibfi uoiverfiiy ol (he virtue of hjf seTvieu to lltecn^jM of public tdsmicr*
ftAd or library developmenf during th« dfveatoen yean »f bl* ofKdal Uboi^
lh«reLa— y»r> which clearly marit in «poch ia ediicsLtlooftt work in tbk* com —^
monwralib — -ind ih>r Or- l>«wvy wUl h« roUowvd iit bit future life by tb^
OiotE cordial good wishes of the Board t>J Regenli,
The [QJlaHLng item ol newt from Altvany, N. Y.^ may vugiMt tbt fie«4
cQEitinticd vigiUncc on Eb? put of Cftlholio :
The 5[4[e Council of New York Diujjbien of America, on Septtub^'
9>, 19OJP Ued «vilh Ihe Se^rel4ry of ^Ute »l ^ccEititiU ■>! l n<Oiuor alien. Tl
J
m]
Books Received.
431
firlnclpal office i» In Syracuie, Theor ^juiija^Dn is formei! 10 hf ihe *npitnie
bfidortbc DAtighlcra of ArnvrKA in the SUEc 4iid i\> objects ar? \a ^romulc
i^ ini#r»l^ fif AmeriCJi'i^j (o shield Thfrtn from the dtpre&imf i^rfpfis ot
Foreign compfTition^ asaisf Americana in obMlninfi rmplnymftii, *ficfturafi*
\\tm m buBinna, vitablisb a 5iek fcnd funeial tuad, miitLlaLU ihc public
ufaOQl b^^lrm oE Ihe Unllcd S[al« nE Amerka and prcvcnr sircurUn inltr'
krtKt ibcrewiih anJ uphold the feading <*' i^ht Holy Bible ilicicin, ii) op-
puieiccLAtiLii interference with Stale iji qaUvn^t alTaif*, pigmote suCiil Aflter-
nijr<e, and Aini^i in ndtf^ndng (he objects ol ih<r JuniOTOrdfr of Unlicd
Anencfln McchAnict.
Th« difvcLois Ai's Annie C Cownn.oE While Plains, Carrie J. Widii};, uE
Locliporr Phcbc A, Cobb, oE New York, M, Ella Yolkel, of SyrBci.w, and
^rm^biu» BrieELfbH ^l BrQaklyn,
M. C. 51,
BOOKS RtCEIVEIX
Hbi^qutoh, MinrLiM k Co.- Mow Vurk niitL DoUun .
tM^mttim.i ' A ffit-*ftt trf Pkpitmiim- lly ALhrrr hhlhri, I'p- vl '^it. \^v ff,n vr-
fK Our Cawi.<r'r i}art- Uy Aonai Hcpii;i«E, Lrii L> Pp, *^S. Piii'a (mo ]i?i. SUniy
it'^ft^r tir Nann-'L HcCrTiorrf Orclhcn, t'p, >ft?- IVlce #l-*J Mt
Till HjtCHILLAH CoH^AHV. TVtW Vfdk i
Oivlo Ml jar ^^'rl^ dhut^fftltuiif Ity i.'h>ifMl.r WrWt U'tArl. l'j>. «r«. Prue ^t )u.
hl>ll» W.lUl.ALLtCCM*'*^. .Nbw York
^mlch. D C L Pp. *dq. "/"*- t^fjnUiaijf M^tmfA prr t^t ntntv By rrcink
K VlrtEcliy. Pp. \i% Prkf ?t t>iPU. TAt Fmw Wtmdt t/ Strict, Funii, Qy
U^c^rtftfc, OmW Jt Co .N"* Vyik ;
[Of«l f P[* )n. rti' f '>'*',.,,? if,. hifr "ffagl-imf. InTwel-rVolrtintt, E^iK^ Ny
WLllkvn )Um, O tin., ^n^E Et^vlitotil f. Pn^KM A- Vol II, TA* Nitfo^y ^f /\HeJ4-,t
frt/m Iki SprmXH f^mfm/if to t/n OiJlA -yf Jeltw. llYil>'erjfe OurTdo A4ami, r'rorr'> or cif
FTmufv i» Vul* I'lui-'riiij', P|i * -J? I, V^,] T(, /*# /tiifff #/ Jtrnf/i-ff /rvnt lAi
MA- I'r^nl^iK t'f flip lh«lMri<.Bl ?*urifl^' P;i, »vi*i -^l;A. L'l'h wolimn. [>nce Aj.^o,
wfii/«[>]^. C.Mm|rttl* (•'i^ ^|.
DlHiEiOti liioiHFM, S"if Vortr
TU D^*r ftwKf [roni ihff rronch, Uv C- U Mjirlln. I'rlci: *^ tnnli. T*» CAU-
^tmtf C^pt. By Muy li MtttEkiii. Prii'r^ 4<, tudis /'or Uf JE-'Af/j fttti hf Kadia-
Pcir l^ntn Minki^Jii. Vtic* 41 rnon Tiflf ^'Wiin Uf^i^i. rtj rsir^b Tiftl"*r -smicli,
;i|pK, dice It C*nik .t'o unrcAEiiTik' LLik>n I'rlHTC r> ccnrt. n3-iaj(d ( cAlirt
nui. /m £j^'''pjnkai ,- *'. /^tftrmfMPit for l*t C*tt/^¥ii. n* R.i*;*'" R**- N C.
ITB4IW. O *.n Willi ihf Bn^ifLklhi Pa-imnHi af S|, fiTTcnr* ih* iirr#i Pp 1,4 -ul.
Fp » Piln in^n>« fiitmiJitt a/Jti*t rp.-rp.Mi.- ItaJJirk k.f l-4iltr' \ #j'i4ci MiiT
fU VarRVnUi Xiy Ilrri-rn LVif V.ilihIibii I'p. >n IVitr !|ii 11 ff*< ,««i. iTfih*
Mlhorol JU>0w0i««V mvMttMr' Pji i*j. CrKi- ti 15. }Vk* KtiitJ St' £Jmm4
dliV Ot^^f llf Aifj^l M-irh*. WJih fin irirrmiLi^iKtn lijr ftulirr J, -V JWUrt, N,J.
4i2
Books recetved.
[Dec, igos-]
it Uin iittm .^/ rikaxt i\r*»»t A-Jwn art Wnilimi^ /** i*wl'j Jftw* e/ Utf. TrmJi-
EWm fay Mfi [''niiii'Li d^JllULr!4^. P|j. t/Ofh Prii:a fti ne:: pufip^d, fj.il. tl'ilA
,^«fE Mfij-^U fl/rmi* */ CiituJr/ lU TAri^ fur^* ht Vtam'w SLOir^ri <lr'^n« «rtfl
Dolly WUlJiii»»Klrli. munTaiBj. l-p. 'l.-ioo. I'rii:a |*-^ TAt £r9ltt*n' li'jr, \Xj
A- C. UcC;^ui« A Cr> . Chii^fi^k \x\- -
/■*» ^^tfiTHiv »>*• JJm« OudBKoni (mm fhf wrtTiftjff oJ Okihpp Spildinji for 4<h *Ut
ii» tli'Twr. ^leuteiJ \>j MruiiiF R Cin^ri^h iV^ iVl PriL-4 j^ (r-nimvii
Manual MiHa h^L P|i. nx -Jfl4. Pnt< 4J^, jq; flodi. 5/>^ ju.
K. 1'- DVTfOH a C^-i . >>« York
/tfW^iMfe tv"^ '^ AtiU* Af. Ilf Cninu Ouj-nty Snlcr. iJiuirMtd. Pp h4;
^O""^' ' Z** ^^vi'j-'* M'aiJt'jfc^fliirf/^wV^rt, " Ed»pd, *iih ImrodncdM nod
Nuirt ^H \r*ll>iik I t»J|{lir iLtrl, I'll 11. r|L »kl,>lll PtIiti* ■Jtpilll.
I'm Oha'TQH PiifttL Nr^ Vi>rli:
O. p. I'UIMAa'aSOJ™. NflwYor*^
Uirft«»iJIV l*kMB Wl ClIlH-^AiU, Chlcar'v (11, i
]^«if/W/A<hi fiJ^mtmli' J*f <>^ /ffUnn/. By Wt^UV. K|Jl>ff llvrrr pp. IfA.
/r«Hi </>Vnw. Br Kufa]«r I>odU**T- ^ ftOv
ri' ^^^ A'Mr tty Miirf irrr B. Suijia^r. lAuimtcd. Pp. |va ^k* S«-
(;«010| W. OOILVIM A CO.. ChlMVO, III -
CiTHOijr Tujrn ^o^^(TT. l^>f"f-m, tm
nMr^/4ir.f CAnjfViiiv^rr Dv ihn lU*. Ciitti«i R. H<iI1< SsJ, Pp. ts?. r^it «( ifrti
*t<4- P/ihfl Et*', Hflt- Jt*iFTii( O P, Pp. ji- Pni* 5 (wiHK /AAfrhuv* B* iW
K«v- JwiBpTDCEtr- OJ* ]>. m )-riu s ""'i- ^U^ptftaav TYm mid fatte. ntH
Qtltglla- VrU» J c«qiL Ti/ iSw^ttmi tf 0*fwtmi.m Trie* % <ffiu, 7>M«w*f «■
tii^/Auiii, Pnct^ i?viirt. Jf Gr^tvifn. Pru* 5 ^«iu. Jr. THm^ tf C^mtrrtfmry,
t-nee f CDnek
iihcr rrtUDd, jo eratij cterh.
BV Dr. Oitilni
P. Bi
lino.
F,> Fti-i*K'« P|» t»* Lvi fifUf^j ^f U fie en
f. Bhit^^n Hukt A">i^l>-r P|>! ufi. OV'M Co^a^ c>ww4siiw. D* Ub Padn ft— jt*
LiviAiim AcAi>kiiTii^L<« Vimiiix t-t Cxt.., I'orEt. rnuiBn;
ALf-noVkF Pli'AlID ET lll>. I'arti:
Pir Tnill* (iinfihft, l^i. j»j- Pn*r ^j>-
THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
Vol LXXXIL
JANUARY. rgoS,
No, 490-
LIFE AND MONliY,
BV WII^IAM J, KERBY, Ph.D.
|T U g<ncrally rccognixcd that Soci&lism U the njo*t
threatening problem that conStonn society lo-
dity. It ^uma up rAdkcfll 9sj>irati<in£ of Che dis-
contented, reduces to sy*lem their vaguely uo-
dersiood ideals, Gtrengthcns the di&ccinient by
trenchant criticisms of men, tendencies, and conditions which
Jboneit obtervers are compdkd to admit as m a large measure
itruc- It AUiet iudf with other radical tcndende^i b<>rruwing
md lending strength thereby, And merging into one, all of the
lemefita of dUcontent in society, Thu9 Socialism tends to
'nciitc tho»« discontented with religion, with family organ iiatioiii
with properly conditions and inatitiilions, with government, into
ont army. This complex constitution of the movement ex^
.plains the VAricd nature of opposition to it. Economists oppose
d fof one TCttNUn : the Ubor movement, for another; Catholics,
for another; Christians gcneraily, for another; property owners
and tho«c in power, for another.
L'joking nt the situation practically one may say that the
Issue raised by Socialism i^ majnly one of income. The pre«-
«nt social order permits and inposes conditions of income
which, both through cxcest and defect, harm men and seriously
C«PJTl|r»lU ISOJ. Till MlHIOMAlI fiaCHT* Of ST, PAVI. 1UI AVOiTLI
iH tju ViTArtt or Stw yomc
VOL. LXXXll.— 13
434
LjFS AND Afoyf.y.
4tTccl life in the larger Gense. Il is loo true thai life depends
on income And income is fixed by circucistances. processes,
and habits of self- see Icing, which are beyond control by miJ-
Jionf. Socialism appears as the champion of life afifatoti In-
^Conie ; it proposes a new principle^ n«w condition?! dure gunr-
■nteefi thai life nhall be allowed lo expand to the fuUefli, It
will be noticed then that the reUlIons of income lo life ar«
rvital and constant, though nothing in the nature of things
\li^ea the two.
I.
Man IB B developing being. He is dependent, incomplete;
:a» itich, he hafl warn*. Nature craves saiiifaetlon for them;
r is in «atUfying tUetn. The physical history of a life \b an
rt of the physical wants in it, their relations* the manner
ol filling them; tibcwiae the mental, social, spiriiuaj history of
M individual. Want, detire, satisUction deicribe Ihc circle of
ife. When these concern physical exi.«Ecnce, unrelated to men-
tal and spiritual, or mental Irle. unrflated to physical and
tpiritual, or tpirilual life, unrelated to physical and mental, life
i» partial, inc^omplete, (aUe, Ideal life pUcc^ fpiritual want,
desire, sarisfaciion suprctne, but co-ordinates phytical, mentah
social, and spiHtual in a way to bring man to rounded dcvcU
opment. wisdom, and happine&s. Food h a want, bat mind
■ and snul should nnt be sacTJAced: learning is sought, hut not
I wiAcIy if bodily health or soul su^er.
I Our wants are real and imaginary. Many men are relatively
t):norant of ihc^ir real wants, and few of uA can Aoccetsfully
- distinguish what h imaginary among them. Our wants are
ll&defln;t«]y exp.insive, because of our faculty of Imagining and
I <:oafu»ing them. Even among our real wants, we ba\-e no
I true perspective of valuer, imagination ngain misleading us aed
Itocial influences disturbing judgment continually. Kuakto Mya:
K*'Thtee-fourth» ol the demands exidtng in the wofld are rft-
nnantic. founded on visions, idealisms, hoiies. and a fleet ions, aad
■\he regLilaiion of the purse is, in it* essence, regulation of ihe
ima^jnation and the heart,"
I The oircle of wants that one deliberately fosters, real and
fciagintryp personal and social, gradually becomes iflcnilcal m'lib
one'a exUtence- Meucc men arc proverbially unwilling to je-
Iduce their wants; diminished wants is a form of annihilation.
J906.]
Life aa'd Money.
43S
And nature prevents the rice from going back by fixing th«.
mdividcial strmly against dimmulion. The c)ef«Blcd politician
ttjffcrs B» keenly as a starving laborer, possibly more l:ccn3y;
yei the former haft only an imaginary bads for grief. Ambi-
tion is intensified riraire to realUe a larger self, ]rs& than which
(be tmbiiiaus man feels incomplete, defcflled.
Thtas the ^reat power which upbuilds society, instiiutionfi^
traced ideals, and i nf tires progress is desire. Hunger, thirst,
desire for comEort, were the architects which built the insfitu*
tioQS of civilization; visions of nobler self, and desire to reaJiie
it made alL ol the ideals which have inspired life.
Tile notion of social progress impJic?, in fact aims at, the
multiplying, varying, and refining of human wants. The lavage,
with few warts, crude desires, ajjathy lor iho Idea], is trans-
formed, in the course tif history, into the citiien with a thou-
sand wants, reAned and disciplined desires, keen appreciation
of the ideal The wonders of human achievement, the increased
apaciiy tor life in the civilised man, the widened mental,
&0f4l, and sociaI horiion thai we c^}oy may in last anftly*ii»
be reduced to terms of human desire- Thus the majeitic picture
of unfolding human tlfe, drawn by the history ol the race,
thows the search for happiness to be the restless power bfhind
all.
When we speak of maintaming or defending the standard of
life, nothit^g is me^nt except that the people should be en-
couraged to want the things to which they are accuatomed,
and thxt th>?(r opportunity to have them should be protected.
Wnen the lAF>ar movement attempts to organize the laborers,
when it demands higher wagcE and shorter hours, it appeals
to the Uboren' right to an improved standard of life. When
laborer* oppoHe immigraiion, notably that of the Chlneae. it is
became the latter h«v« a lower standard of life : that is, fewer
and «imp[er wants, and our laborers know, that in competilivc
industry, a higher standard of hfe cannot conipele with a lower
one. A cabinet officer recently justified the protective tariff by
ttating that It increased imports. This J£ due, be claimed, to
higher wage&. which increase the power of consumpiion of the
mavKS : in other words, the ttnal element is the multiplied
tvant> of iodividuals.
Kducation. now all but unlvertal, gfveii to the millions s
knowlcd|^ of 3eH, of rights, of nature, which increases the
4i6 LrrE A.vj> Mox£r. [Jan.,
nambcr tod variely ot wants imlefinitdy ; yesterday's itixury
ii to-ilty'i »e<e»ity; the occasional pleasure of yesterday U
aecc«tary to dally comfort now. The sUva, with dull scn^e,
oo 0(ie1e)o1c> no Airibition. may be tr^n^Fornipd by education into
tbe qaick, akrt, widc-sceiag dttxcn whose wants engender ambi-
tion «nd promote industry.
That the individual is affected by the idea of progress, by
niturAl inclination, by popular movement*, and by edu<ation;
he IV intlucnccd to cnUrgv the ciide of his wantSi to reach
A cociHantly widening conception of hie and lo iix hia definiiion
of life it Cbe highest pajrt that he can reach. Man it rcspon-
aive to such inlluem^eaT and he contiantly increased h^£ demands
on lOCioty. The^c agents are powerEully aided in forcing tlie
lodlviduaT to enlarge his circle of wants by the spirit, organU
nation and methods of bufiness.
Th^ whule aim uE indu^iry, as now conducted, is proHL.
Thi« Lft secured by constAntly increasing «aLes, or by reduc-
ing coil of production i nortnally no one producer and sells
where no propped oi prnfit entjce&< The great inspiration
of induBEry and commerce ia to hold society securely to the
volume of consumption already reached, and then in a thou*
NSnd way»i in HtimHlatr new desires, to vary the objecU wbich
■Htiify them, to expand markets, found coEonie^* at\6 control
them, for the single ultimate motive of profit- New styles.
new foods, n«w forms, ar« in process of formation, because
industry must atimuUie social wants to kerp its wheels busy.
Noihini; in modern orKaniiaiion is more perfect than the
organiEitioa of busineu. Advertising, ahow windows, display
counters^ drummers, are perfect in their way in awakening
wants, calling attention to this or that commodJiy, and in per-
suading people to buy. The pressure is so great on us from
every side that, like atmospheric pressure, we scarcely realize
it A customer enters a modern store, The wealth of Ormos
and of Ind is displayed before his eager eyes. Color, form,
convenience, many tongued, speak to him and urge purchatc.
Wbi]« under that spell, an eloquent derk, whose commissions
on sates determine his tenure and his salary, offers services in
expanding the wants of the customer to a maximum. We are
so accustomed to this procesfi that we are unconscious of it-
If one wish to realise the rJU played, one need but imagine an
immense dork warehou§a in place of the modern fiote, without
1906.]
L/fX A^£> MONsr.
«7
dItpUy Of show, whh cLerhs whofic business h ivas to dissuade
tu^totJicrs from purchases, unEc&s Ihey w<rre criiciiii of th«ir
Deed and ol their good judgment in choices made.
The savings bank is 3 notable exception in the business
varld, since il advises all to save iheir mmiey and deposii J;.
Yet, even here, the motive is profit for the bankr
Finally we may meatlon our pauton for equality in the
nridst of social inequi^iliiy, our desire In ;ippeAf a^ good as our
ftefghbor, by being a? consptcunua in nur expcndilurcs ard as
elegutt in our appearance; our pasdon for dbtinciion. leading
ui to seek attention in some way or nlbcr by tlie <]i]antily or
qunlity of our wanu, as compared with ihote of the persona
whom we seek to impresK,
As richneEs and diversity of thought and fcchng cause lan-
gtiige to appear poor, and lacking a word for every idea, wc
are compeiled to heap many meanings on single woidB and
depeod on context to make clear the usage intended; 10 the
chjecis which satisfy human wsnis acr^uiro many meaiLings,
Social, imaginary, trifling wants, arc so much more abundant
than re^ objects and real vvaniSf Lhal an object is made to
tupply many wants. Taking [i^od originally satisfied appe*
lite: to-day, in \x% complex form, taking food sailifics appe-
tite, givci evidence of culture, of social position, conveys
bospLtalJty, winft attention^ Our basic wants are so oveigrown
by loelal aefrecions of all kinds, that we are as much governed
by the accessory as by the eisential ; wc would surrender meat
rather than nFipkms, do without dessert rather than surrender
l«blectoth> and give up butler rather than dining chair. And
yet chair and tablecloth and napkin arc culture creations,
whiltT food is pf pfiniordiAL nrtd Easting necr^^iiy.
LikewLie In clothing, in home-building, io social relations,
oecoMorles erowd In on the ba«ic need and impose th<mitLve«
upon B»> Traditionj custom, example, preference, unile ihcso
phMcs snd identify them- Then when reduction comes through
dire fteconity. wo have no perapcctive — we loie the essentia),
and surrender unwiieLy- Mrt. Sielion t^ys, in her volume nn
7%r //ffifu.t^ai wOTtMn "puts upon her body, without criticism
Of objection, every excess, distortion, discord, and contradiction
that can be sewed together, Tho ^ttthetic aen^e of woinAu ha«
never interfered with her acceptance of uglineis. if uglineof
»ere the fashion/' This surely indicates a depftrturc from the
4J8
LIFE AND MONEY.
[J-r...
originil purpose of clothing. What 4 story of growth in hu-
m^n w^nt, and oE deviation and compounding of motive would
be revealed if pitychological excav£ition wouJd show us Ili«
whole history oi food, ctothing. and dwelling — ihe primary
physical needs of maii^
The idea of progress, pojiular agilation, education^ methods,
flnd org^anizQ-lion of buiine^^, aocial inatincis all untte then in a
powerful pressure to multiply the real and imaginary wants of
man ;4ijd to confuse them and perplex him in choice among
theniH None of these convey any notion of rcEtraint, of values,
or proportion. The pressure \% (feneral. indlEcriminate, upward,
and outward in every directionn Vet the intereEt« of the in-
dividual imperatively demand discipLiEie, re^traint^ pTopoTtion,
and order in human wants. Under the pressure described, sin
and disorder^ confusion aod disaster, come; only when proper-
ly disciplined are human wants sale; only when a definition
of real (ife guides man* docs he live wisely.
N
It.
The interests of the individual are in the direction o
simpliuity, discipline) order, while social forces make for coni-
pleicity — pleasure without discrimination nnd comfort with-
out restraint. Naturally, in such a conflict, the social forces
preponderate. Some time since we weUomed to the United
Slater the author of The StrnpU Life. He wa9 prataed and
advertised on all sldet ; be came with a prestige accorded lo nc
ochcr foreteller in recent ttmcs. He pleaded for the simple
life, simple tflste, simple, rugged wani^. The nation listened
and admired, but no shrinkage in business was reported by our
merchants, and Dunn and llradslreet told of no dislurbancc in I
the ind«5tria.! world, because we had been converted from the
complex to (he simple life. There are, however, many forces -
which control our desires and introduce dltclptinc among them. |
Nature puis a check on the expansion of wants, in the very
limitations which hedge us in, Philosophy attempted, notably
in the StoLC£, to teach discipline md simpliciiy, but the great-
est and noblest discipline of hfi; presi^pled to humanity is
through the example and teaching of Jesus Christ.
tic flaw disorder and confusion among human waots as the
result ol sin. He saw everywhere false definitions of life and
i9Q6.]
Life, and Money.
439
mialeading ideal* of condut^t <ra using havoc ainong men because
o( ain. He \% ihc Life. He esUbiished a code of ^pirituil
Uwe, A eet of related aundards by which to ju<3ge valu««, a
ptrapectivc o( human iuiereats by means of which man might
guide a^nbition and discrimmate wisely in hU pursuits* In the
lif« that Christ lived aiid promised to ihA^e who believed in him,
the spiritua] is supreme; simplicity, aeH-deniai, penance, servicej
itn9e!5^hnc», and prayer are the conditions, ft« they are the
guarantee, of that life,
Hi:dtiirical[y, then, the teaching of Christ appears as, in effect,
a lupreme discipline of human wants, indivJduAt and social; it
aubordtnilCG the physical and mental to the spiritual ^ tbc selfish
to the unselfish- It hlla man with a f-ompcUing sense of respon-
sibility and engenders the spirit ol renunciation. Hence in the
full«t Christian life, we expect not multiplication but simplify-
ing of wants; ambition directed to truth, beauty, and goodness,
and not to clothes and banc)iiet3 and palaces: ideals repre-
senting Bpi ritual peace and concord and brotherly love, and not
eictended markets, mechanical inventiors, and rapid transit;
not how much wc may get and enjoy is its watchword, but
with bow little may we do. Without pausing to trace the rela-
tioQB of the Church to progress, we may say that no greater
discipline of human conduct has ever appeared — and none was
more pQworful in disciplining men. And yet the result is rather
in individual lives thdn jn nations and peoples and classes.
The mor^l law — »if one may sp^alc of it bs diEhtincl Erom
hiitorical ChriitiAnity — is a source of discipline of human wants,
lending lo ch«ck and direct ihem. One's conscience, compell-
ing one CO do one's duty, compelling respect for the rights of
ocbcrf, ftnd «e1f'refpecl, indicates the right and the wrong in
want? and the principles that should govern normal man in
satisfying his desires.
Civil law is a discipline of human wftntA, in that it prohibits
many things, or increases coat by taxes. The history of sump-
tnnry IngtbUlion » interesting, since It shows how futile is ihe
effort to regulate expenses by law. We find records of such
Uwfl among the andents, and down toward Reformation timers,
in Italy, Switteriand, France, and England, when efTorts were
made lo control clothing, food, wedding?, funerals, ornament,
bapTlsmiy all of which were occasions of great expenie.
Whether the motive was to sanctify the eoul, to sustain data
440 LtFE AND MONEY. [Jan.,
disCLncCion, or suppress extravagance, it generally failed of its
purpose in a way to show its futility.* The modern temper
is effectively opposed to any effort to discipline wants by civil
law, and hence the law is mainly negative and confined to
general social relations.
Social standards and education have some disciplinary value
for our wants, as man generally inclines to obey his intelligence^
and he conforms by instinct to social valuations, such as he finds
them. Enlightened self-respect, which education should generaiCt
disciplines our wants and gives us a motive and a guide in our
desires.
The general pressure on man, expanding his wants, will
ordinarily act within the lines of discipline described, but the
disc>rder, injustice, sin, and foolishness which mar human society,
and have always marred it, show us how discipline has suc-
ceeded and how it has failed- Neither the interior disciphne of
Christ's teaching and conscience, nor the external discipline of
law or social sanction, succeeded altogether in curbing man's
passions, taming his impulses, and organizing his life. Civili-
zation, with its apparatus of splendid learning, organized power,
triumphs over nature, has had but moderate success in dis-
ciplining our wants into true Christian form.
To the sources of discipline mentioned, one may add in-
come as one of supreme value. There is fundamental moral,
spiritual, and social value in not having money enough to get
all that one desires. As society is now organized, one's desires
may roam over worlds, but one's ability to satisfy them de-
pends largely on the income which one commands. Whether
income is from labor or from dividends; from interest or rent;
unless one have money, one must labor, and one is limited in
one's enjoyment by the income which he receives. Great in-
come is not only not a discipline, it is apt to be a release from
discipline. But the vast majority in the race have but a moder-
ate income. Exceptional souls, favored by grace and circum-
stances, may live directed by interior discipline alone, but, in
a majority of live%, discipline from without is more or leas
necessary. If one doubt the role that income plays in life,
independently of restraints already mentioned, or with due al-
iowance for them, one need but give to a man receiving one
*An iniErcsririF: luT ol ^uch lava may be lounil in Lhe 1E97 r^poil of The American Hjsicid-
cn] Kociely. turopean hLue Laws, b> Vmccni,
1906.]
LiFE ANB MONEY^
44<
l1iou»nd dolUrs per year, an Increaa« of four IboLLKsnd^ and
obicrvc lh« change in ambition, conduct, impulse, view^, and
standards,"
When income \% limited^ <nie ifi forc«i3 to choose among wjinli ;
Ooe's )udgrneni. 13 suppoBcdl/ developed (hereby; one'« t<mp->
UtLons are reduced; one's indiniry is fostered; one's associa-
tions are safer, llcncc the hisiorJcal rUe of the middle cUm-
To hAvc mentioned income as a form of discipline is ^ul^cjcnl,
for ill miy see from daily ob(crvat:cn how cficciivc ii '\a in
otuklag oIT the possible from the impossible, and holding one
to wholrsome re^trainl^ One may violate Christian ideals, mural
law, social MiandtLrd^. clvjl law. jn seeking satii^faction for wants
whose clamor overturos judgment, but if indulgence costs and
no money be available, one is restrained by physical and
ioeiai Jioiitations, Sfnall income cHit^i?« the greatest resriic-
tion* on physical wai>is; less on meni&lH and Icm still on
spiritual. Without ^ doubt, this rEstriciion on physical and
materia] enjoymenl, when moderate, permits higher things to
faavc belter oppofiunity for domination in life.
No one denies nowadays that, in ibe United STale«, waifiA
fret^oently exceed income. The circle of wants has, under the
action of Ri&ny forces, oxptadcd fsr beyond whs^ actual income
warrants, or prospective income promise* for ihc vast majority.
There are few in that t(r^<kt number who do not Ardently wish
for greater income; few who do not plan and hope for a day
when it will come. Millions^ particularly laborers, arc orgui-
iud and working with that as their great piarpoite. Undfrr
luch circumtiancet, it is not strtnge that men have conirlvod
to cvcape, in a messurv, the rcsiricifons of income, and have
elibor^Ied methods oE getting more pie^Lent pleasure from life
than means at hand pcfinlt. This is flccomplishcd by the cred-
it system; by counting on future income \n the present; by
paying for money borrowed on income not yet earned, but lo
be earned, Credit for business or investment purposes is not
meant— rather credit for consumption; credit for necessaries,
conrenicnce^, or luKuries, which are presently cc^naumed aj^d
offer no prospect of produdnif, as credit for investment does.
ProAt Is ihc motive of bjiincss. Merchants find that it
Ltf-£ AXD MoX£y.
payB tt) give credit to customers^ hence cr«dit is easily ob-
lained. Thoac whose wants, habits of life, and standarda of
uste arc beyond actual income — many of them At least — will
rtfiort CO cr^flit £chemc&» and ihug evade the discipline that in-
come fifier*. The i^ass bock^ wherein open aoc^fiuni is carried,
and p&ymont is made in part, aa tbe customers may have
money ; the JnttalSmenl pUn^ whereby manner of payment is £o
arranged ah lo cacies Little present iticonvetnence, ;ind series of
payments in imall amounts arc arranged; borrowing money
from loan ftgeniG, in order to pay cash, are means employed
by consumer to csc&pe dis^^ipline- Were business thrown back
to II ttrktly cash batis. it would revolniioniEe conditions cvery-^
Conspicuous advertisements in our daily papers invite us
•'to opQu an account with A," *' Everybody's credit is good."
"l*ay when you wish.'* A daily paper at hand contains four-^
leen advenihcinertB of loan companies^ which offer money i^H
•malL amoLjnts for ''only $i-33 or $1,66 per month," rates
varying from 35 to 4^^ per cent on the ^mountA borrowed.
Secrecy, diipatch, convenience, are promised, no questions
■frlied> If one might estimate (he amount of unpaid debts IflB
tht coEintry. one would surely be appalled at the disproporttofi^
beCiveen income and expenditure. The Secretary of the Treas^
ury recently issued a circular to All employee? in his depart-
ment aiking many questions, among them, these: " How much
are you In debt in cKce££ of the value ol your property ?*'
"Does your condition compel you occasionally to borrow
money at exorbitant rates of inlercst?"t JH
* Ad UlutiriTjun U tuuij*] iii t^c riiiimrr in aUiitIi ^^rtie |ioor men will mt tmltE uj bity
drknli 1"h* lilfioB may do only a cii^h Inixincu. Then x\,a cuaumer will Uay 'tioei, hoor*,
)iiiiuii*«iki liiiipt, fit' ^ '>n vrKlLi, >ni1 mm ihom aver io I^» |jarrcn<]ei in fPA)nb«ii( lac tlr»bk, ^H
vkP.niT rop Ai,i,-t>r)VT thy to stbetck voube monf-V ^-^^pj ti«
^■■til)' III liur^oi C'lLriaMitu liikllB. Viyu kjitlv fo'fy ^Dhitell lidll »ii:L lu uit imrv^<«<. uhl m.
lliAPn4iHHI]hEiltMpjh]|ntaEl wltlL whaEVciLt fvT U Lifar l>ct»r u five »ma[tLmf *qnLi
■III) l^l'iwWAt fMf lel»Nro, BLltor ifn ni'cWTiiflIf C^hrLilmju ri|KniH h4t» IW'O MlTlnl. Ktt
bflvv 4litivin[lMfiet>uLub1b Th^ifUU -LliLneiEhiiitver* i^nc Ulicfl n, i^crif « 4«d flititt wUi '
uf tuiini uw ori't iviinty iJcMir'^irbic CliAkn «rtil Kothfrt. ahnvin^ Shhdi. Cejl
ftHdlnn Lanijn, and mni^ inlnzf ihLiiEi >uiidbil? tm [Pimi. Juiiri t'flfhw l^flC4>- Tcl^r TibUi,
KuCk, Cvuch Cg'vrt. t.aci CLiniLnx, l*orU«TE«t SPtiin^ Kockcn. W/Wii; l>nk". ISrtDf
|^ii>jM, V«^f4, CKtniiia.kiii, m\y\ tmitij >4ih4^ ihJng«iiiiiAlpiA Tnr |tri> rn UdW-*- Om t''iw« aiv
■U ni«iW^ J*i i>kin riKurtB, v\-\ ynii AfU rmii lilhiif kmvr «iiy<v)'FiB', l-ni wi <t(tiii) u wrdliU
inrluilon to jr.iLi ki r^^n nik ai-^ouhi and irmfifc ihrmi PDnvrntrnEmydu, WcQAlitflO «m
thW^Mr [Jb€irtlc|r<||l, Irill qllawlhe (l:-I|liW I li B dlHuunti;
lapcf ifpi illK«'iini (o' Kiikt wErit onli-r, h>r Lf attauqi E4 ultatnl In ja i^Rjil ffii ptf HftI
dlKoiinc If 'f i«>uri U r4<'«?il in H ^"/«, 1U1O5 ^r« cniU Alntni in jv <1i*j>
1906]
Upe and Mosey.
443
Recent dispatches tdl of a truatefE ckrk lh Chicago who
■^nitHjiilcd a Lar^fc amount in order to pay five loan agCQcieK
which w«rc threatening him.
A by-product o! this 8ituation-"wh[ch «ny thoughtful rtfad-
er will retli^e la a momcnt't rctlcGiion — \% the lo«t of horror
for debt- Living in debt is so ortlmary a fact now, that reJa-
tivdy f^w sbrink from it.
Given then a condition of Wn^rt, naplratlATi, and life, in eat-
ccfi& of income, exerting pressure on tho restraints of moral
Aod civil law, and on the [deals which Christianity presents;
given our niitura! reluctance to diiQtnish our wants, whioh is
looked upon aj diminishing life itsdf; given 4 habit of pleat-
ure-secl(ing, sett mdulgeiiLic^ and a apiril: which resents disci-
pline; what is the effect on moral and sprntual life and stand-
ards ?
The falling oH in the marriage rate, the decreasing bfrth
rale, are phases of the relation! of life and raotiey. Certain
girls will not marry certain young men, because the latter
bavcn't muney enough; young men will not marry because
wives "cost too much to keep," To a great extent, the evil
llvet of many unfortunates are due to a love of dress and
leasure which their means did not warrant, but fin and &hame
did. Gamblings cjnbezzling, steaUng, cheating, are, in a meas-
ure, doe to this same disproportion between income and wants*
And the added tragedy in it all is. that in none of the cases
pivntion«d iti theie real and substantial want involved- It is
Liu>l tove of mind and mental pleasure, not love of soul and
ruiwri'Liiu; loans. *io [o5>>i- w«io wnbint*o riourt -iici you rc*™»ppiic»-
Oe^ TIk qOU pTJniff Anil niDU (OTiinilan(Lx loiaicfl ntlica Jn (Tic cli/r Nn mlsToadln^CKlk,
■'it4 fvpt " KfUry Laum v\^v Ib iIfwI; nni-tuyca, AU Inr Qur S[«i»| VuaUoQ
CUT RATCft ON FLrn-Vnune AND l-IANO 1-OANS. WUhout Hemmra], U^
lit \fK. A JiiDnili ; fyofar $i,SC ■ montli , %j% for laa^ a njoniTi - fioe JaE fo-Ca j nik^ihd
OiWr «ii4Jttiiia In jtfvpwrii^it. Ko pMlrtk'lfy. Wn up ItwiUi iri aur lln*.
fl.jj Ktn VIOP'TK tt *U )DU hxve !*> t^'J* *i« ''■' ■ ■■>•■■ <'' (h'* C-*'Tf Iihh W-uji «t
i'jnvULfr Nfl Qib« ffTiargo ol my tinJ, oKopiioi- fiJimr f«. Nv KEurUiAE ur ^ubllctry of
.■hf fc1n<I, l^i-fVi «niniiiiiB4T ovm lowar iw^. T\^r> up h*"* mutTi jou i™ fraTlns °o*»'^
•mm cw, W* will fMyjFT ■;t^?r <uiin«*ii'i-> «riJ k'vc tvu fr>* >liuii^ij4 ni nur ki^ ■4ik4t,
WHGX W£ MY Ii4d A MONTH U oUw^ ^tmrKt' fur i l^qq xA |tA«>'iii4ii II-
Dibcr AMi>papi« v-ill ttll ^ir tIie> i> intiNrTtuhlc \ iFmr Fhtir nfc^ are aTiouF ii lu** it vUfi ,
<in>vld opfilrani t*-"*!'!! mdra* tj Wax of c-jminCh'loDa , thaL jiou wouW noi r«<ivo
lAiH *anbBj, i^w qq cjnini>'v>i/<flUldpaiulhl;r«i1iiarL lOstk low (hedv Don'i be dai^JvitL.
f Hin«tiii<« yrtij t; tfl<Tt fejiil riKUfTv Tlikflk nf ir.lrit |h«n ^fvfiii ao ihn itiillir J^(rrr«.
Unt TlKUriDJ I.vut» ukviL fivuuOier uuhii^jAiiltt ■■ itrr i>ui iiuliiiaVDdit bl Ih* (liAa
LiFE A^'D MOI^KY,
Dw».,
I
itv delight, but love of dm^. oE ftiod. of drink; of socfal
prcGligc, ol travel, of ca»c ; dislilcc of labor and dUcipIine that
QjcCft ChU tremcndau^ presgure on us, and in «o many caftf«
lead men and wiimen lo vioUlc conscience, kw, and social de-
cenc/ in ihcir tragic elTort to gain money for pleasure, Thtit
RiorAlG, religioLi* consdcnce, are seriously threatened- Pareois
ignore ihi^ g'c^t fact, nnd continue to give lo ihdr children
atandarda and t&stes in cxcchs of income; out schooia fail to
teach lis on this fundamental question of life; pulpits are, to «
great extent^ siJenf; and we arc left to the play ai the social
forces and instincts, which indcfinifely expand our wants.
While we proEcsa and teach everywhere that character is ftu-
preme, that conscience ie above all life, that taw must be rv*
ftpected at whatever cost, that life is in truth and beauty and
goodness, and not in money; nevertheless, the main facts of .
life, the dominating social forces, the pergonal ambitlonEi of ^
ft majority^ throw money forward into life In a way to all but
ovoTihftdow all cIbCh The American passion is ''to make
money, lo get rich"; which Ruskin sayt? "is the Art of ci-
tabUi^hing a maKimum inequality in onr own favor/* Children
are taught "to jave money"; children are put at work to
earn i youn^ men in professions and business see money loom
Up a^ the reward of industry, the condition of power, the key
to distinction and dinlnguished association. When one think*
of the diretlness with which Christ opposed love of nion«y
and seeking of richeg t^ his own ideal of life, one wonders
bow Christianity can be a» patient as it is with modern idcah.
The more that life drifts into identity with money, the more
it laiJs (□ maki^ ita deliiiition in terms of life, the greater it the
promised disorder. If, then, our complex social processes con^
tinuc to expand wants, if increasing passion for equalEcing
social classes upwaid sei«e us as a people, if ircreaMng coat
of necessaries of IJEe diminish relatively onr income, and every
day reduces our sense of discipline while increa^in^: our need
of it, who shall say that Socialism may not find in this situa-
tion eTemcnts of ^trengih on which we of to-day do aot
reckon i When we hear Socialism plead for life, full, free,
4qual; when we hear its delusive promise to emancipate man
from money; Ko foster and develop life to the fullest; when
we hear itt denunciations of unequal incomes leading to un-
equal life, may we noc assume that many will Usten with
IPA]
Ufe and Money.
445
eogerneas* ponder with aitcniion. and embrace with zeal f The
<|aeiUon \% worth ±ome retlection.
Oitr passion (or equality wiEhoui: diacrirainaiion, our habit o!
rating men as equal in all things, because equal in sctne, are
working silently with ibe forces that make for Socialism. Out
schools might undertake some sociological work, [>arenls might
be more int«tligciil, the jocblogicd value of Cbriiiianity Enigbi
l3* impTomed more vividly on society by ihe pulpit," Tbc
vJucaliuu ol our wants or desires, the introduction o( a spirit
of diccipllne among them, del^nUe regard for the HmitAtioits
\irhich iacooie imposes, even while we strive to Increase it, iire
£uiiclain«mAnX important in Ibe^e day^. The lad; of them favors
the propagandu of Socialism very directly It is permanently
%rvc that spiritual progress acid real peace depend on the wi«'
<iom nf cur dclinition of X\{^, the dcgiec of our loyally to it,
^nd Ihe charflcter oE xlie disc:ipline to which we submit inter-
iorly. Hence we should understand the soun:cs whence dis-
^pliaa com«s, and we may rightly recognize limited income as
«B« of them.
'^/'cyff^artliii, ihf followlnjtnomGldillAci^riWfTiiJ^j ati flmfir*.\>, 91, iiaf rnuivir:
"Tbr 4iPki>E ^m|j»inKLr ^inglf 44CU^ii* Uktl Ctir1«c[(inii]r lii> !<■ <4ntiltni(^ id iwkoE aolrcf* hu
atm «rr fre* tri>i]] [>j< livr m>(l ilivie who wn uniJcr tiuii'J«||« u> Itii li*, Tht
10 iTh islurloa of iEi> tocLal lunblam will lif round In » fnmk nc«i>uncf a(
Ebfl fiUE eIuE ioth' rni«n in ^nvry ^nnimiintry Am inh^iranily |)m|fi*44ivi'^ nvnirir-
rtii, (n4i^>*, cijJiblv -A %w\U'w\Mriy u»i»| *rlf iJimritkHi. -IhJn v\\\x\ fuviu iflifAliLv ul
*ua* of ihvrt, 144 I* iiiLidr vBrTut, comforialiLc. mid cnmriEiUy fm^ unlr by brinr
b«mcl>T Wkitvr fwodifc 10 lafitTy ind kcfn ur»(tir EnDtierihi]i imI dUcipliFic nnril ihcf
ifli* ■(qulrfid pijni iqIioV 4nU eo«veii Uiainirelvc*. LI mg thoultE ip; ilini we e.1) b«Un*
tM <SoctTlP* — ihAt 111! In na vfiir nn«i— 1S0 ntcpsury rafiJy wnulil Fir chai wp rtrviirhflfu
■Ai ihi ci^iutuW." PukkJii Fit* dii; UEM iliuu^-bE La S'kt ^m 9/ Mr: "The Am ilmy uf
rffiy fniD In she vurlil li Tu tad hli rrLi« mat'tf rtnd, Tcr hn own gofdi aubniii Id him, dM
I" ttadlilt irur jnreriDi [lueI, for ihii iPUrii^t'h gchtd, (i:iii[]u<r him, liar Tninlilimini h uir*
Abw ntT*>i iniJ iiirk inr j'<n<.i.r.> rii i/t*« inf-ji, *r»(L Lrtk 111 fiji'ltifl''« en J ivi la (Ite kCft«L
A mim nVAn tArtr* tlj* c4i«< ifimiuA Oie aOittp jdhI cbnTlahuh aU,"^
THE I'RAYI-ROI- CHRrST.
jUREUY it mu*t have seemed like a momentary
descent of the spirit of peace on the angry tu-
mutt of primeval cbaoE when, in the name of
the oldest and widest Chdsiian commuftion (and
doubtless by a prophetic instinct of that same
Spirit), n Romtn Cardinal, in the yeir i^9h opened the Chicago
P^diament of Rcii^iatia •nith the simple prayer taught by Jesus
to the fishermen of Galilee nearly two thousand years belore-
At it£ height [he wive pauses hcfort jt dashea iti^elf in foam
and confusion upon the lihore- Such ^ brief instant of pauw,
o1 inward silence, man have been felt in that spiritual Babel
ere the trnny tongues were Icl loose in the interest of their
multitudinoufi creeds ai\d contentions. It w^e as when the little
child in their midM stood as a mute rebuke to the worse than
childish contentions ot the chosen Twelve. It was a recall to
sunphcity. 10 directness, to the one thing needful; to the point
vvhencc all had diverged and scattered, as sheep issuing from
the pen, and to which aL] must converge again. a& sheep gathered
inlu the fold at evening^ And surely frum any other lips than
those of a prince of the court ol Rome the prayer had Lacked
the same fulness of significance.
A man's spirit utters Itself to some degree in every volun*
tary movement of his life; but never so fully and pcrlectly ai
in prayer — prayer that Is really his own, For prayer is " lh«
lifting up of the heart and mind to God " ; it li an act in which
VJiiOTi, feeling, and will, the three factors of the spirit-lifr,
designedly blend together and strive to attain their highest and
deepest expression. In prayer the bpirlt pierces down li> ihs
root and beginning of all reality from which it springs, and
stretches up to rhc end and summit of all reality towards which
it strains and struggles; and between these two poles lies th«
whole sphere of the finite which it strives to compass and Iran*
4
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1906.]
The Prayer of Christ.
447
Mend. In prayer it cxprcaaly deaU whh the ULtidiatea ; with
tfac lirst atid the laat uid, in rcicrmce to tbm, with *\\ that
lifs between chcm. And m this contact w^th Reality It actAins
Trui^i^tTuth of vision, truth of feeling, trutli of will.
Thefc is a sense in which the whole spiril-lire may be called
pfayer; for it U. indeed, communion with God. Ljftorarf tit
^art — to work is to pray, to think Is to pray, to love is to
pfftjr, but we do not now speak merely of Ihjg Impllctt »nd
practical prayer; but of conscious explicit prayer, in which the
spirit is concentrated expressly on the religious afipcci of |jfe
^on God, or on thingj prcci«Iy in their relation to God. We
speak, not of the prayer which 11 'Mivcd," but of the pra^^er
whicb i& " prayed/'
In «uch prayer the spitit-)ife linds its tfutScat Qmbodiment.
Here we find what a man is m his deepest self— *if only (he
prayer be real, bifi very owo. Yd even io those prayers that
arc moHf deeply our own, prayers of the spirit at its highest
Mflfion, the word^ and conceptions tn which they normally
embody themiclvef are never wholly our own; they belong to
Ific lan|>ua^e and tradition which we inherit- They are our own
only in so far a.t they 4re inspired by the inward prayer; In
10 far, namely, as the spirit, like the wbirli^ind that sweeps up
the autumn leaves in its vortex, rearranging and ordering; them
after ihe pattern of Its own movement, seiies instinctively from
th« mind's treasury the word; and images most congenial to its
need of seli-expre&iion and weaves them into a living garment,
in which its own lorm and movements become visiblir,
Takea ainjfy and literally, the several phrases of the Lord's
Frayer were familiar to every pious Jew ol that day. They
were then, and Ihey arc now, to be found up and down in the
Oid TesiamenT, the sacred books and liturgy of the Hebrew
pvoplo. So far. they were our Lord's only by tradition and by
adoption^ Studied literally, without respect to hit! whoie life
tod penonality, and simply by an anelytis of ihc words and
eapresisioos as they were then valued by any ordinary Jew, they
could never yietd us a distinctively Christian sense- We must,
Ihertfore. try to seize them a« they fell from hU lipa. aiill h;<]ow
vith his spirit; we mutt take them n»l one by one. each com-
pteto ift itself, but afi paits of a complex, organic whole, each
in the light of all the rest» and all in Ihe Eight (if his whole
life of ftGtioa and utterance j we muH look to the sayer as well
I
a« t"^ what is ?flid, Else our study will be of th* dead limner,
tbc tkcleion, the empty husk of that prayer For a prayer U
a vLtal utterance, or it h nothing; no di^geciioii «r tlic lifelrM
corp4« can diic^wcf the souU
YcT, on the other hand, it must he remembered that th«
"Our Father" is not given to us as a prayer which out Lord
himself prayet^. but a& one which he taught hii oiactplea to
pray. Though this fact rlocs not make it any lets trufy an
CKpre&alon i>I hii own Spirit, with which they too were to be
lilled) yet it allows us tu anech more eigitilrcBnce to the actual
form of words than we should be otherwise quite justified la A
doing. For the words in which vehement desire cccapes from
the htart ftirajght mto the eari of God ^thc? reader of hearts,
to whom even our unwordcd desires are eloquent}, are not cal*
cuiated with a view to reveal that desire to our fdlow-men.
According a$ the prayer is more re^l and vehement, Im iiticr-
ance tends to be more broken, inierjectory, with Htrong cries
like those of Gethsemani and Golgotha; less reasoned, con-
nected, discursive; a times tumultuous and incoh^rcrtt, at the
impatient spirit hopeie^&ty tumbles over and ranucks its vo-
cabuiary in search of words for its unutterable need; while la
moments of utmost tension speech may he completely paralysed.
But the words of the "Our Father "were intended to con-
vey to the disciples our I.ord'a spirit of prayer; they uerc ad>
dressed to their human understanding and not to the Divine
Omni-'^dencc- As such, they possess a certain degree of that
feasoried complelitneib and unify tvhich btlong to an iutlmc-
tionn We must remember* therefore, that they are accoatno*
dated to the Lnieliigence, to the customary modcE of religious
thought ftod speech, familiar lo the simpk folk of Galilee;
that they belong far more to the language of prophecy than
to that of philosophy. The expression which tbcy give to our
Lord's own inward prayer and spirit is, no doubi, the beat and
highest po9eit)Le wiihin such Hmit^ of thought and speech; but
that U is infinitely inadequate cannot be denied, and ahouU
not be forg^Jtcen, The mauer-artist worka here with the rude
cQiteriaU to hand; and to some extent ihcir very fudeness re*
vealt his mastery. Hi« whole spirit is here, as El U even in
The least iol its manifestations^ but not so wholly or clearly
manifested as it might have been in a higher medium of ot*
pression, or in the language of angels.
I
I906.J
The PftAYEK OF C/if^/sr.
449
Lctnguagei like outward eensillon, U at best «ugge&tlve^a
(ew pftjnts, a few Uncs which the responsive mind fills in from
che atorchousc of memory; and so, more than half creates ihc
object of ili apprehension. According, therefore, to Ihe extent
And kind of our own iipitilUAL experiences ^halt we be able to
ictzc som? mcisurc of the spirit* at b»t rudely bmted in the
words of the Lord's Trayer : "My sheep hear niy voice";
only because the ^pint of Christ h already in us, can it be
sirengthened, educated, and <leveloped from without through
the )ofl;rurQeoiA]icy of n^ord». Without auch inw&rd reaponsive-
ntss no clarity or perfection of outward expression would atr^il;
but when spiritual sympathy tiuickcns the inward ear the ob-
scurest whUper IB a revelation of gpirit to spirit
It ivill help muc:h, therefore, in all cases lirst to detenoine
as exactly as wa can }U3t what Bense our Lord'a word& must
have conveyed to hia hearers' mtnds. Independently of the
heart- rcfiponae which they elicited froni those whoso spirit was
closer to his own; to determinr:, that is, the current value of
those words for the religious thought and language of Galilee
two thousand years ago^ This is no easy task. For cenlurietf
the Church hoa pondered this prayer in her heart, and has
loaded every phrase with a growing wealth of nwaning, ac-
cording at she has penetrated more deeply Into the iitipiicatioof
of Christ's spirit. Thus, much that was latent and confused for
former timet, has become for us clear and explicit; and it
needi come elTort of well-'insiructed historic jmiglnation to put
ourselves back to the beginning of this process of expiinsiDn,
to rcalixe what ''fatherhood" and '* heaven" and *'chc klng-
4om" and "daily bread" and 'lemptilion " and the "'ftvil
one*' mennt. and were intended to mcon, for Peter and An-
drew and Ihe sons of Zebcdee-
For this meaning must in some way be the criterion of any
fuller sense our own minds may then attach to these same
Cvma; of Any aitempt lo (ind a re'embodiment for the same
prayer-tpirit in our own language and modes of thought to
pour. Without Kpilling a drop, the contents of the old vestal
bto the new. For the spirit abides unchanged through all
changes ol thought and speech; man't mind tranatormi itAcIf
ccaselflisly, but in the depths of his hearty where God meets
him, ho Is always the same, Could Christ leach U9, his disci-
pl«l of co*day, to pray> the lan^'uage would be di^erent, for it
VOL. LXKXII, — 9{r
4SO
The Prayer of CHursn
fj".
i^ould b« out own; but the spirit and substance wuuld be th«
s^me- As tE is. we must seek Ih^l spihi Ihroiij^h ihe ljtn|iaAge
ant] thouglits of the Galilean fiBhcrmen of two thousand jrcars
Ago.
Sl Luhc fxL E-4) gives the Lord's Prt/er in an abbtovi-
aicd, St Matthew (^rin 9-15) in an amplified, form. We moy
be sure ibat neither (he ontissjoua in one ca9c, nor the expjic-
tioos in the oChert are substantial, although U is th« ampliliic}
form which has obuined permiii«nl footing in the Church- St.
Millhew introdyces thff prayer into the SerrriDn on Ihe Mount
a^ iUustratiag, by wiy of contrast, our Lord'* admonition agaieit
certJLin false conceptions of prayer, Jewish a.nd Pagan. St l-uke
Tepre>£enls it a^ given by our Lord, on another oc<;aEiun, in an-
swer to Ihe reqtie^i of one of his di^fiiples: *' Lord, teach us to
pray as John also taught his di&ciples." Thu», in both case*.
Jl i« presented to u£ explicitly fts a. norm or ideal of what
prayer ought to be, 1c ts opposed both to two fAlse standards
and to a leis perfect standard.
It U the prayer of those who seek the glory of God and
riot Ihe glory of men; or the prayer of those who would raise
man to the likeness of God. not of those who would lower God
to the likenG£± of man-
It U the prayer of the children of the bride-chamber, of
those who have at least crosi+ed the threshold of the kingdom;
not of those who still ilfiin towards its borders, and for whom
it is yet an ideal, not a reality.
Two types of prayer are signalled out for us as altogeltter
repugnant to the spirit of Christ
or these, by far the more reprehensible '\s the prayer of the
hypocrite or actor, whose offense does not consist in the fact
that he prays in public, boi that he docs so for the •»)(« ol
publicity and in order that he may be seen and prai&ed of men*
Our Lord himself had been praying rn pubEiCt or at least before
otheri, when the disciple said to him; " Lord, teach us to pray/*
And be evert bids u& jet our light shlne before men ** that they
m&y see our good works ^' : but then it is to be in audi a way
that they may glorify, not u«, but our Father who is in heaven.
Plainly he wculd have us look directly and iniEnediately to the
iniidc of the cup and platter and leave the outside to look after
I
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I906-]
The Pravek of C/f^isr.
45 i
itself, confident that if the heart be right all will be Hght, A
deliberate aiming at «dilicatioQ and ouiw«rd rightcou$nej&Jike
a delibcfate aiming al happiness, defeats itself; It bf; comes
sdf-coiucious, sc^f- complacent, h/pocririeal. If Ihv; true light
ii »n us, it will shine through us unawares a.nd bring glory to
God. To feed the tl^ine in our liearts is our concern; the
shining is God's; we are not evro to think about it: "Let
QOt thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth,"
It is as food for self -complacency thai the hypocrite dc&ires
the approbation of others, that he may contemplate a Mattering
image of himself mirrored in a multiiudc ol minds. What our
I.ord would cjtctude Is, at root, spiritual ^elf^complacency.
S«crecy from others is important only aa a means to secrecy
frotD oneself. Here, a& everywhere else, the outward is valued
m«rety for the sake of the inward. A man may enter into his
oratory and shut the door and pray — yet not in secret. He
may be no 1<«* of an actor than if he iiood at the sueet*
Gprner or in the synagogue. On the other hand, the Phitisee
and the publican both prayed openly in the temple, yet the
latter is at plainly a typ^ »' secrecy in prtyer as the former is
of hypocrisy or acting. Wnat, then, ii the inward spiritual
ftecrecy ^ymboFlted by the outward, but by no means to be
idcntilied with it?
It i« the dlsposIiLon of the soul which realliea that in prayer
\t stands b«Jore a "Father who eees in secret"; one to whom
all hearts arc open, all desires known, from whom no secret is
hid : one. therefore, before wh<>ni it la utterly vain to pose, to
act, to pretend to be other than we really are. To some ex-
lent we tnuAt ihmk of God and deitl with him bumanwise, aa
we deal with our fellow-tncn, with our parents, our lulcrs, be-
fore whom we arc always templed to act a part, to seem bet.
ter than we are Hut, so far as prayer ji a "raising of the
heart and mind to Godn*' it is a deliberate effort to ri&e above
this limit of our ima^^inatton on the wJngsof faith, lo put our--
•dve* honestly face to face with conscience, with the Father
wIm iccih in tecret^ This is whit the publican did, though he
prayed openly in the temple, and whaE the Tharisee couJd not
have done bad he even entered into his chamber and shut the
-door. And why not? For surely the educated HhAriaee
Ur more capable than the the^togically untrained publican
a oiorc apirituai view uf God's nattiie.
was fl
n of ■
The Phay£r of Cffn/sr.
H socb ekvatioo of view depended on philoBophical training
it would £0 ha.rd with the wi^rld at Ur^e. But in truth it de-
pewb Qoly on a di^pa&ition cf the he^rt It U txoi che inteli
LeciukI mAn, but the gpIriiuAl man» wh<> apprehends God spiri-
tuAlly- '""of the inttllectual man may be morally en iht psy-
diic level »till, seJf-ccntred, worldly, »nd even animal. If so,
bi> God will nece^ariEy be in ht» own in^age and liteenest; one
with whom he will deal as Individual with individual, as self
with self; one with whom he can make a bargaiik, an adjust-
ment of muliiaJ int&rc3t3; not one whose lntere$ls are reitlircd
41 Indiilingulfihable from hia own,
But in nitjtnentfi when a man ri&esr however briefly, ^o the
ftpifitual level, and vicJds himself to ihe imperative, uncondi-
tional cUimi of coniciencc* of truth, of principle; wh«n he
loses his Kparate sell, with lU separate inler«si;^, in the con-
fcioutnesft of being before all cEac the servant and mfitrument of
a divine and universal will — in such momtnts he can view htm-
aelf only from the sEandpi:iint of that divine over individual in-
teroi, and ns he really 15; all motives for stlt-flaitcry ineli
away as illuiions and dreams; he can but see himself with the
eyea of hia Father, who seeih in secreti he can but siiike his
breast and cry: "God, be merciful to me a sinner." Here
there is an entire absorption in God's point of view, in God's
will and interest; a complete dyinff to one's own, so far u I
icp^rate or separable. It xi as when for a brief lipace we for-
get ourselves absolutely in the sorrows or desires of another,
and lend our whole being to the service of that other, with
whom we arE made one jusL for the mumenl, Such monacnia
of uniun with God's view and feeling and will are graces giveo
to all from time. to time; to multiply them till they become
(used and continuous is the whole aim of mystic endeavor.
Prayer, therefore, hke fasiing or alttisgiving, if it H not 10
be a mere doing or saying, must be an action of the apirit-*
life, not of the psychic life; it must be Ihe utterance of virion
and feeling, proceeding from the spirit and the heart, from the
secret chamber where Che toul meets God as the stem mccta
its root in the bosom of the earth.
As little would our Lord condemn public prayer as he
would condemn public almsgiving* or fasting, or other overt
good works- He wctitd but teach us that the intention of tb«
hypocrite or actor in seeking piibJiclty simply excludes that
I
irjo6.] The Prayer of Christ. 453
9ell- forget fulness through which atanc the soul can meet God
ai a spirit on the spintuat pUuc. On that pUn« all seU-con-
ttiousness of Ihe 1i>wcr sort (that is, all conficiou&ne&a of the
narrow, ifidividuai se^f, whose itiiercrsts can be conceived a^ other
than God's) vanishes for the time being; all inward "acting"
M laid asiiJC) because the desires And motives thai would prompt
{\ aire annihilated. The same perfect simplidty, directness, and
tinccrlty arc attained in auch prayer as in the onselfconscioua
beaelicence which a&ks in wonder; "Lord, when taw we Ihee
hungry and fed thee?"
in.
h voine sort oF visible and external rcNgious society is un-
doubtedly oecesiary for the wjiWSn^ and education of our apiri-
tual life^^ince corisl^tent individualism Jn reti{:ion U ar: slcfi-
lUingaE in other apiritiial interescs, such as science and general
Culture — it follokvj thit public pra/er and worship are » nec-
cit^ry in their pUce as secret prayer; that they foster $ecfet
prayer In the lamc way That public inteUigencc and la^tc los*
ter private intelligence and ta^te.
But public prayer must nccegsar^ly be couched in words;
and symbols in which the ommi^n spirit finds coinrnnn uHcr-
ttnce. As little as Christ would condemn public prayer in con-
demning the hypcrcHteSj bo little would he reject vocal prayer
or fofins uf prayer when he warns ue againEt much speaking
And vain repclitiona, Galilee of the Gentiles mfty easily have
familiarited his Jewifih hearers with the heathen practices here
denounced; and thit materialism of thought, which matcrUIUm
of life »o invariably ^ntridiices into every relt|{iori. rendered
hii warniagi by no n\eans superj^uous for a people who were
at all times only too readily infrcted by surrounding idolatry
and supcTstitton. More parliculnrly did (his point of Christ's
teaching need 10 be recorded and emphasized for the benefit
of those Genlilc Christians who had crowded into the Church
by the time that Si. Matthew's Gospel was wHtten, and whom
the lavs of mental inertia and 'Mes^t rc^i^tar^ce" ditpo»ed to
retain a« much of their old religious :raditi[jn as could po^^i-
bly receive any sort of Christian interpretation. What with
their own inevitable tendency to receive Judaic-Christian tra*
ditlont In « Gentile sense, ind with the Church's wUc wlUing-
ims to tolerate, baptise, and reinterpret, riAthor than dcsliay.
454
The Prayer of CJfjf/sr.
IJ
SD.
jkll ihoM idcis ind symbolfi of paganUm that tnigbt serve 3g a
more flexible vcbscI for the new wine of ihc Gospel ihna
Judiiam would offer, there mu^t have been a ci^niinua] darker
f^r th« eJLrly Gtatile Christiane le^t tbe t^ldcr and deeper h^iblt
of mind should rise up again and vanquish the ncw.
W< h&VG only to acquaint oursctvca with some of the lower
phaiei of contemporary religion to realise what ls mea^it by
Ihit " battalog^y." this babblmg or gabbling or vain repetition
which our Lord reprehends. It is the prayer of thofie who
ihioW that they wiH be heard (ov thcjr ^' much speaking.'* and
that quantity of prayer is as important or more important than
quality; who attAch a certain rx Gptrt operate value to bare
words, apart from the in^vard prayer which Ihey should em-
body i who hope to weary their gods mro compliance with
their own wjll. An error so ancient^ enduring, and universally
recurrent \% Mire lo be "natural" in »ome sense, and to have
»ome plauiiibEe jn&tification.
When we would move the tardy and reluctant will of our
fellow-mar we know — and every beggar and every spoilt child
knowfl — that insistance and reiteralion count for much; that
each request makes some little impreEalon, were it only *^ a
drop of water on a stone, and that the accuinulaiion ul such
ImprcHioni may at last break down the most alubborn oppo*
allion. Ha* not Chri«C himsclF toJd us the story of the im-
portunate widow, just to reach ua that we should always pray
and never weary? A^ Jong as rceii conceLve their God human-
wia« — not AS a spirit^ not av a Father who sees in secret— it
ia but natural that thev ahouM trtat with him aa with a man;
that they should think it necessary to acquaint him with Ihelr
inward dcsirca; that they should hope to weary him with rcp<>
litiona, to cajole and flatter him with praises; and that they
should attach more tmpjrtancc and e^ei^tuality to their words
than to their desiret. Hence the ceaseless to nguc-c latter die-
tinetlve of p^an worship, ifae hurrying through of formulas,
the measuring of prayers by iheir number, length, lime, etc.
If true prayer is a raising of man's heart an J mind to God,
it can be no true prayer which simply lowers God to the heart
and mind of man. To some csiicni such a lowering is inevitable
while mm H on earth and Qnd in heaven. He must stoop, and
atoop almost infinitely, to meet us ; but if there is no straining
tipwarrls on our pare, no efTort to raise our thoughts and de-
1^5.]
The Prayer oj-' C/fJtrsr.
4SS
Sires to a diviner and more spiritual levcJi the cssen^ of
prayer is absent Noi only docs Ihc mechanic*! Lip service
<]rag God down to Che level of maa's mind< bgt also to tbe
level of hU heart. It i? iniporiun4ite in a bad ^ense ; it eik-
<leskvor3 to force and weary the divine wjj] into coniormity wiih
cnin's unpuntieci will; to wring from it a reluctant consent to
■nan's natural psychic dedrcSr Only wliile we think of God
faumanwisc is it possible to imsigLne Ih^t our desires should be
better and wiAer than his; or that he should yield to that
^vhich be knows to be lees good and wise. Rut whi?n we re-
tnerober that no prayer avails but that which the Holy Spirit
pkuta into our heart, and which is therefore already an expres-
fiioQ of the divine will; that we are told to «eek lirst the King-
dom of God and his righteouanesa and all else only in reference
to that end; then it \s maiiifcst that the ia)poc;unate prayer
%vhich Christ commends is that which fitruggles to bring man'ji
^mlU into conformily with God's, not God's into conformity with
man's; that which raises man's heart up to God, not chat which
clragii Gud down to man'& hearE-
Yet to sweep aside a$ so much rubbish and superstition aU
the rosaries and lita-nies, Christian and non^Chrlstian, that have
busied man's lip& since he first bc^an lisping his prayers to
Ood, would be as foolish as to condemn all public prayer on
the score of hypocrisy. Formality is the evil* not form, nor
even formulas. Is not (he " Our Father" a divinely sanctioned
form or tora\a\a} Prayer, like every movement of the spirit,
neceMarily tendi to embody itjcll. to become explicit in words
end symbol?. And this embodiment is an aid ia its devdop-
medt, ju^t as our whole spiritual life is shaped and fostered by
our religious beliefSn and shapes them, in return, by a process
of action and reaction involved In the iinity of our faculties of
thought, feeling, and wilL As proceeding Iroin the nioAl hidden
depths of the spirit, whf?re it finds its roots in God, prayer
does aot lend itself readily to formulation, and the attempt to
jjivc it cKict verbal expression mn^l be largely unsuccessful
onleM it be a prayer of ih? mind's surface, rather than of the
heart's centre. Hence there is much more unrealhy and for-
malisiD in a discursive, well'reasoned addre*^ to heaven than in
the broken aipiratlons and rcitcratpd cries forced from the soul
by thfl prenufcof its irAvail The confessed irrelevanfc ol the
words used, to the intention behind thcnij which would be pre*
415
Tlf£ PkArER QF Cfff^lST.
[J«.
pnlefout in lh« dealings ol man with man, may in player give
Ihe hflJirE JL frv«<lam of movement which an endeavor at cxncli-
tude of <xprc»ion would destroy; while it implies. e»r may im-
ply, a recDuniuon that tht prayer is addre&ed to one who «ec5
(ii aecret, who coniideti our desiree rather than our hatting
wDrdft. Thu* ihoro ia ao eondcm nation parsed on forms and
r«p«tUioviiw but only on formality and on vain repetitions, on
IIm mtrtly quaniilive and mechanical view of prayer. We
■hodld not tkett admit it a> A reproach when attention is drawn
to iht lik*fi«M between many points of Cathdtc and ethnic
w«»rihi|\ ai ia thi« matter of rosaries and lit^niesi forms and
upolltionk. We see in it « proof that such praciicFS are th«
■fCklhttlMOUi n&turml creation o( man's religious needs — needs
whivh the Chnrch purilics aud to which she ministers. Nor wilt
|taa d>*<:i^>left of him who so oft«n hetd ttp the heathen and th«
SaiAaritan to our imiiation allow for a moment that all the for-
muJaa and repetitions of heathenism ^re vain ; or that in them
tho iroo kpidt of prayer never rinds blind uuetance: or thar
\,\% crie* which blameless ignorance sends up to false gods
naver enter Into the ears of the true.
Like fHJth, tiupcrstition ia an affair of the he«rt far more
than of the mind. Where the object or motive of prayer i%
non-moral, psychic, aetfigh. no orthodoxy of mental conception
or nrbii expression will save such prnyer from aupfnitition.
On the other hand, if the motive U spintual, ethical, inspired
by the love of goodness and not by the love of self, no theo-
l<»gioa.l error or crudeness of form will affect the substantial
purity of fiuch a prayer 0\ its own nulurr» no dcubl. the spirit
tends to shape the mind into uniformity with ii»U; materUliim
of Ufe and affectioa lenda to materialism of belief; purity of
ha^rt tends to spirituality of thought. But the process is tardy,
and Is worked otit usually in the collective life of the rcUglobs
comcnunlty, rather than in the single life of the individuaL
The individual inherits the forms and conceptions of his people,
and cAn modify them but alighiiy at beat, His own spirit may
be far too high or far too low lor the medium of expression
placed at his disposal hy tradition: the prayer of the heathen
to his idol may at timet be less fupcrttitioui in spirit than that
of the Christian to the true God.
1Q06.]
TJIE PLAYER OF CfiRlST,
IV,
45 r
" Lurd. t«3ch us to pray as John also taught hi& disctples."
Besides thcae two Uhc itandirds of prayer — that of the hypo-
crUc Jtad th«t of the heathen — there b a true but Less perfect
standard to be cantr^ied with the Lord's Prayer; namely, the
prayer of John the Dapiist — greatest of those bom of^ women,
y«t less than the least in the KUigdom of God.
The errors we have dealt with cotii^ist in bringing God
down to the level of man'* hcjin and mind in prayer, instead
of raising man's heart and mind to God. They are begotten
of tDAfi'^ (I^cat Deed to feel God close to him, like to him, ^i\d
therefore mirtngcable by him; to find in him a powerful friend,
or relation, or failitr, a " very present help in the time o!
trouble/* Vet in the meaaure that we bring him down to our
Icvelt we rob him of the power of raising ua up above our-
«clvc». The more human he becomes* the less H he divine,
aiU-seeing, alUmighty, alUlovin^, all-gnud. U he is our rather^
is bscau&e we have given him our nature and Itki^nt^ss; it
-ft because we have made him man; not because he has made
us more-thaji -mpn.
Contrary aUogeiher to this debasing tendency was tht spirit
of the gfcat prophets of Israel, of whom John the liaptist was
chieiefL, as nearest to Christ, as herald of the dawn- In them
the sense of God's greatne^a. hi^ otherness from man. his Iran-
itendcnee was all dominating, and filled them with a burtiing,
reforming xeal against matetialiMie and unworthy conceptions
o| the divine majesty. Insistence on this truth brought home
to men a sense of a meafureles^ gulf interposed between God
and themselves, of a distance and unlikcncss hard to reconcile
vith the close relation of fatherhood. If the later propheU
would at timcE mm abruptly from the preaching ol God's awful
mi^hl and majesty to the assurance of his fatherly love and
CDmpa»Jon, yet it was rather with reference to Israel as %
whole than to the individual sinner, for how could ihe indi-
vidual dare to sec in himself the filial counterpart of a being »o
triAfiOcndeiitftlly other and uidikn himself ? He listened, at best,
in faith to promivet vl a coming Kingdom of Heaven iri which
men were to be traniformed into sons of God» and were to sit
at meat with God a& children at their father's table. Dui that
I
458 The Prayer of CHttrsr. [Jan.
kingdom had not yet come. With the sense of God's great-
ness he had Lost the sense of hjs nearness. He had yet to
learn that the greatest Is the lowliest, that the furthest is the
nearest, that the most divine is the most human^
And this IS a truth that teveUdoo has made current coin
among the least in the Kingdom of Heaven. It U the truth
of which Christ was the living revelation; which became in-
carnate in him who "gave to as many as received him, power
to become the sons of God. Great and other as God was, yet
men could become the sons of God, because they could become
other and more than meni because the sense of nearness could
be achieved otherwise than by materializing the spiritual, or by
debasing God to man's Image; it could be achieved by spirit-
ualizing maa and lifting him nearer to heaven- If then John
the Baptist, like the other prophets, taught his followers some
brief prayer embodying the spirit of his message and mission^
it was but fitting that our Lord should do as much for the
children of the bride-chamber; for they had lived to see wfaat
kings and prophets had vainly longed to see, namely, the
Kingdom of God begun upon earthy whose hearts were filled
with his own Joy, with tbe fulness of that spirit which enabled
them to cry; Abba, our Father.
THE EVOLUTfON OFA SOCIAltST.
uy M. 1*. c^LTir>ri^N,
E~IK iIawh is a inattcr of time. Al first there is
the hush which heraWs the commg day. Then
3 aireak of hope U Hung across the caavasfi of
night And wh^lE w« turn our faces tn the
of
of
cast and watch the advance
tight, we allow the smaller reveUtions to pass unnoticed; the
c«ll oi the mating bird, the fiagrance of the rose, the gU^tcn-
iag lap on leaf and bud. Yes; it is oniy when we have (in-
isbed our st^r-giJimg, or our revelsp that we fcan the browa
ckirth anew; and, lo I Instead of a dead gray worJd we Hfid
in its place a world pregnant witb meaning— a warm, puiaing
earth, throbbing with the hope of life to come.
This, ID many, is the inorning of the firfil dayn It is the
beginning of the end. It is the initial gUmpse into the beyond.
As In the natural world, so in the inEetlectual and social
order, it h a question of evolution; and by such slow degree*
lUd 1 become a Christian socinlisL
Born to a heritage of sunshine, in a land where no man
need want. I grew up unconscious ih^l the world's problem
waa a problem of justice. I only knew that the sun ahone
above me and that all nature was glad. From this I do not
mean to say that in my garden of roses there were no iborn^.
00 Ibc contrary; for my little years were uncomfortable with
prick*. Handicapped from the start by a superfluous vitality,
1 lived fit war with the old nurse and was, iherefore, held in
horror by the powers ihat were. Indeed, during my nutficry
d«y«, I wiL^ tjke a pelican in (he wildcrncsa, and as little nn-
d«ntood a) the sparrow on the housetop.
" The Lord only knoA-s whal alls the child," was the
Aurse's constant complaint, '* fur nv^'er a doJl will she pl^y wid-
Sbure. she's never ai^y but what she's rattin' or fcrrelm^ ; or
caebbe aht'W be bavin* a lew rounds with the gloves on. And
4&«
The Evolvtion of a SoaAUsr.
1J.O.
be the same token, ma'am," this lo my mother, "her brotlicrt
do b« encouragin' her> an' 'tis up in the 'boxin'-rocm ' ^bc U.
wrasttm' an' what not, an' divjl a bit of nte can manage li^r
a( all. Ah! hivcn forgive me far sayin' itn*' said the old nurse
solemnly, "but I'm thinkin' as the Almighty made the mt*-
EaW« when he put the likes of that child into a petticoat/'
Al other times f used to be reported for inBubordinailcin.
•' Fur she wilE go divin" from a high plaUorm* m&'am, into two
ful o" water, when every one say* as il's a tcmptia* o' Provi-
dence* s^ it ie Twas only last week as the bathin' aiithoTiciet
wa« informed of it, an' they ome down at onct. an' «p9Ve
sarjout to her. But :;e'ei' a bit did she mind 'em,
"'An' what do you mane by it?* I £e£ to her.
"''Tis Imitatin' the swallows 1 am— havin'a dry dWe,' mj
she.
"'Ttic Lord defend,' eei 1, '« 'twon'l be the dry buri«l/
sec i;'
The nurse sighed heavily before taking up the thread of
her gloomy narrative. "Three hourj she (pint in the watef
yesterday, and (he wind blowin' a gale. An* ne'er a bit wouki
fihe so into the ghal low water then; fur nothin' »hort o' twelve
ixX will suit, when 'tia rough. Then one o^ the young iadie*
jurnp^ otT the springboard wid a Ecream, an' purtinds to be
drownin'; and wid that the rest jumps In to save her. An'
what wid the laiighin' and the antics — and the waves at bif
as a houte— I dedarc to ye, ma'am, a^ 'lis be the mercy o'
God [ don't bring that child home a corpie to yerscLf a^d
the master."
As a net result of these complalnis, 1 wu d^osiled In \
convent — 'handed in with an apology for being a backwartl
child.
For the next few years, therefore, my energies were con-
fined to scholastic exploits. At lirsl it wa: diflicult to become
accNmatixed. Fig;uratively speaking, 1 had to f^ght for breatb,
the air baing stiff with Latin verba, or rariSed with 'otogiei.
And all the while freedom Uy three mile£ beyt^nd the gate,
I can see it now— tlie old hou^e with its Trentih windows and
itt wide bilconies: the close cropped lawn with its parterres
Ablta« with ffowers; the roae^ outside the study windowa; Ihs
ball-room overlooking the tennis court; the tall eucJilypti by
the wall; and the fernery beyond, where the maiden-hair
I
I
IflOft]
The Evolution of a Socialist.
461
cUcnbarcd over the whUt; qiijtrtx and x}it tree fems iifHrd their
LHarms in th« sunahinc. To mc hoinc was heAven.
At oihcr times, my thoughts would drift (roio the fat uoE-
lum? o( myihoiogy before me, and my mind would take wing
*Zo the moLintftLns, and once more 1 would find inyseH wander-
ing, pea-rJfle in hand, throjgh the tangled fcrn-gulliefi, The
green parrots were acreccUing in the overhanging branches and
the locusts kept calling In the valley-
Of again* I would Hy olT at another taagenl. and, in-
GEead of ahsorhmg history, the wide seA lay out before me.
Ah I it was good to be there; to be alone on the wind-swept
shore, juflt to watch the atorm-tcascd ocean and the loweiing
sky, with naught for background save the ydlow sand and a
ridge c>f ti-irec. Away off in the distance, the Red Hlufi sinod
out o( the sea, and, acro&s the shoulder of the cJi/T, nvo graves
bruke the sky-line. They were the graves of the unknown
tailors whose bodies had been washed np by ihe waves and
vrera buried on the chlT without service or headstone. For that
was long ago, when ihe Red Blu^ was a wiJdernc^ ^nd white
m«n were few. Th? hungry waves have since eaten into Ihe
blufi until Qow the tombs lie in suspense at the edge of the
cLifl, Before lon^ they too will diiappear, to await ori the
Boor of ocean the advent of the last day, when (he sea must
awaken the HleeperE, and each must answer "Adsum'* in ihe
firial roLf<caIt' And already I could liear the wind Iteening a
rei^uiem over human imperfect lonii and the lonely shore was
fraught with tadnc93. For is it not, aa Aubrey dc Vere sayv:
THr least of sins l& inlintle; it throws
A shade into the face of the Most High?
So tliB sun oovtfred irp its brightness and the wild wind
fobbed ai it drew the clouds o/cr the faL-e of the dead day;
and the wavei lied away Irom the horiion as if In fear, &nd
with a wail of haunting sorrow flung out their arms to the
weeping sands. Overhead the ^ca gulU screamed m whirling
Ctfcletl, and th« stooping; scrub couched before the blast. And
u the wind blew up from the unknown Pole it brought with
■t a ause of de?ioUlion, The scene wus wdd and blrrak, Ms it
ttight have been in the beginning, when "the earth was void
tod «iDt>ty, and darktiefci was uppn the face of the deep."
4^
THE EVOLVTtON OF A SOCIALIST.
[Jan..
I
Then suddenly ihc tinkle of a. class. bell would recall me to
the present, and T was forthwith confronted with English
classics or the wonders of diemislry. The routine of school
life -teemed ro me just one remove ix^m the monotony of the
trcadmJIL It i/tSA a long probation — for what^ I often
wondered. But before I had arrived at a probable solution 1
knocked up. Overwork was llie verdict; accordingly [ was
withdrawn — and "the gates of learning" knew me no more.
I wki to trav^el with my parents- So 1 bid a final good-
bye to the Land of (he Blue Gum, and the liner ploughed its
way north. Creeping into the tropica I watched each evening
the ttcry sun dive into the ^ea — and prescjilly the heavens
were ablaee wilh stars; ^tnd every night the Southern Cross ■
dropped lower and lower BiiE^ apuft from nacure studies, life
on board a F, and O, boat was distinctly amusing. The ports
of call, too, were like so many snap-shots of the unknown^
The native bazaar at Colombo, with its dream of color arLd its
nightmare of cries; or, the Buddhist temples with their silent,
cross-le^jj^cd pfiesEs and the scattered petals before the god ;
or, again, it was in the Red Sea, which seemed like a page
torn out of the Scriptures-
Absorbed m ray own thoughts, 1 wa? one day lookijig over
the bulwark^H when a noted Kgypioiogi^t spoke:
"May I ask what yoj are looking fot?" said he.
I started guiltily, then laughed— "' the Isiaeliiefil"
"I'm afraid they are not in it/' he ventured- *' If yoo
will remember, they moved on. But Pharaoh is still at the
bottom, and if you'd like a fishing rod — "
Rut the bait which would tempt a Pharaoh was not forth* ■
coming, 30 the project had to be abandoned, 1
Ve&i it was thrilling to think that the Egyptian hosts had
been swallowed up by these very waves within sight of the
shore, where scro&s the stretch oi sand I could see the Arab«
now leading their cameU to water And. as we passed on through
ihe Sue« Canal, the $un wa^ flooding the &and- hills— tho^e
restiesr, shifting hills which at sunset take to themselves all
th(2 hues of a Queensland opal: and behind the ridge of sand-
hills rose that wonclerful Egyptian sky which knows no cIdimI. ■
Everywhere en route there was a new KJimpse of beauty,
or a view of the unknown. 1 remember, during our dmy at
Port Said, being one of a parly to visit the Mohammeiian
I
<906.]
The Evolvtion of a Soci^ust.
4*3
temple at the edge of the d^sert^ W« w«re aU on dotikpy.
back, and I can still hear the tuitiuU as we galloped through
the sandy, ilUpaved streets — the yelping of dogs; the cluck*
ing of hcfl*; the execrations of vendors whose sialls were
imperilled; ibe shHelfS of the Arab children pUying in ibe
duvt; the hurried flight of women in yashmaks as they darted
out of our WAy; and, rising ^bove the general diii^ the cur&eft
ol the donkey boys aB they belaborod their charges. And thus«
hdier-fkeltcr. the pfoccasion tore on, while the donkeys partici-
pated in the fun, kicking up enough sand for a cyclone* In
such w!ie we arrived al the temple, on the steps nf which were
fftcged endless pairs of slippers — for this was a holy place.
Then, after inspecting the temple, there was the scramble up
the turret Etair. Higher and higher in the murky diirkness
w« felt K\\\T wHy, untii finally the summit was reached, when
1 W4> propelled from within — by the simple force of numbeffl
*-to fttek a foothold on the ricketty wooden balcony and to
hope that the dissolution was not yet.
From ihU eerie perch I could see away over the Egyp-
tian desert, where a caravan was making its way home,
tnd the blue shadows lay flat upon the yellow sand. The
merchants, with their laden camels* reminded one of the phil-
osophy of the old PersiAr tenC-maker when he soUloqaicefl
nn the vanity of earthly things:
The worldly hope men set their hearts upon
TurnK aihcs^or it prospers; and anon^
Like snow upon the desert's dusiy face,
Lljrhting a little hour or two — Is gone.
Specks in the sunlight were the turbnned (igures ; hut
each w** a unit oE a greater caravan, whose quest is ever
the pearl of ^7^^x price-
Leaving the temple to return tn our hotel, we seemed to
he leading a profession of the unemployed; of the halt and the
Uind and the maimed; and the ihort, dry knocks of wooden
crutches hdmincrcd a rhythm on the c^bblc'Slunes as the
he^ars shufHed along- It wai a regiment of human wrecks,
of which the ambition of each was to exhibit his InflTmlty.
Taken together they were overwhelming, and we finally »oufi;ht
theker in a waynEde shop, where cxc^iiislte china and filmy Uce
ttrovo for precedence on the same counter.
4ti4
The EvoLUTtos of a socfAUsr.
[Jao..
TVevestljr « s<m(k1 of weird music flatted in, and going to
th« opcfl d&ofvaf I »w & dinepdubk lookmg figure in rags
pl^rBDg on tbe pipes. Wlieth«r he was a " Hooligan" of the
EaK^or a desceodaai of Pao. I knew nor. But there he stood
tvritfa hit cmtcb cn<l«r oa« arm. whik ht [>iayed a lu&ty tune
«M bt« Paadeaa pipes^ aod, bey, presto! the nineteenth ceit-
l^rf bad vAmabcd wad I was in a leafy ^ovc with tb« gods
of Rooe at mj elbow.
Aftvr l«avia2 ^^^ Said, we steamed across the Mediter-
raAc«A to l«*d ift "tli* boot" At Brindisi «very able-bodied
mam wtmmi ^aofbed !& tbe punalt of ''pitch-penny." Tob-
iH^ tbcytod bevi pUqrias it tince the day« of C^sar, whose
MMHb ^ vben ibe Apptan Way runs into th< ae«.
u it aujr, tbt S'&y mo(»s w«re worn into hollows in
ol tbia Mponing proclivities of Ages. As for th«
l^cf fliicbl bave b«en »a many brigands of m^lo-
wWi ibeir twartby tldns and jet black l^air and ihoir
latt polM oTcr ihdr eyes, Edch was wrapped
h tH>litT ctoa^ wbich k*** ^ classic touch to tbe scene;
tbe riiMirit looeb iraoisbed with the bulky umbrdla which
h «4ft earned Fraa the tiaiver»al;ty of the "gamp" it
a)no«t have been a charm to ward off the evil eye.
at far Aat, wbtt better than forked fingers^
I lowd to watch tb< play of the liager^— that graphic
or Sontbcni It4ly; the swift Dick, the sudden pus.
1)M faft^lortf i*i^ <Mi *<3M ^' temple. Then. a& a wrinkled
klf «n|^ by, tbc speakers paused, and quick as thought, oot
«bol tW proved 4uif«n» wbile a look oF tear stole over the
lM«i ta tbt itivit.
Al HiybMtke iftbab^taata all screamed and gestlculalcd. At
tv« I f«a««d ft aiitiofiat ri^ioe: but it wat only the Neapoli-
9m ■tttb»Ji ttC iltsci wip g euftcnt evenii. Then there was a diy
«ubi u l^riptH, 4ftd Aaothcf day when we drove from thr
4|Mltoi M«>t*I to the foot of Mount Vesuvius, whence we made
«b« ftH-«MI by tbe fUoioabr nil vy and after that were hauled up
\» fijirtE- AihI MAbif back t remember passing thrcjugh the
r«t^ M^C^It ^ St Lacba, with the deafening cries of irs fish-
*-^*^ 0«* *Mt we weou through the narrow cobble strMt*,
tv^M^ ^UtMf W booltud the lofid cracking of whips. Above,
IMM b«««V IV b40^ buBg the w«ek's washing; and below^
(^isHMLi iU MWM^ fibilhnsed the eye.
1906]
The Evolution of a socml/st.
4fi5
In Rome. toj. ^verylhmg wa^ brigtit t:otor and ammaiioiU
The mere man in the sirecl wore a brown velvet coat and a
red sari round his throat - the orange sclLer pcddJIog his wares
became dramatic in the process; Ihc vendor of polenta in the
dark archway flashEd a look of persuaako: "Ah, sJgnorinaT"
There wa» nt^ such (jolcnla as hjs ; ihe t>eggar£^ who vainly
called bldMLiiga upofi yoUi In hopes of a dole, straightway
levdcd curves at your head.
Everywhere there was an absence of reserve about popular
scnttment. The people llung out their ihou^hls in Ihc sunlit
piftEia »% a Brttish hou^^maicj mif^hl shake a doormat In the
back E^f*^^"' ^^^ ttaliao matron on the *ixth floor wi* indif-
fcr>TEtt lo V'Jbiic upimun. She thrust her hcaU out ol the win-
cio« and pDLired cx«cratLoas upon the garlic seller bcluw, abus>^
in^ him for a thkf with all the lufliy vigor of one who has to
make cudA xnect*
And, oh ! ho* poor they were; how ilUfed ^ how iJl-cLothed.
Beaulifulin youth, how ha^'gard and wrinkled in age — and they
aged youngs And how hard they worked; the wonrian and the
mule yoked to the same plough. At the city gates the cui^tcjms^
officers were busy. In the shop-wJndows and on the hoardings
a government ft^m}> was alfixed lo every notice and advenise-
uncnt- And in all the land there wa5 scarce any goldj only
paper money-
But la sph< of ilv economic condi(ion», a eUin<^r and fAtctna*
tvon huii(; over it all. The peasant woman in hei latlroii he(>
chief ptused along to mackei with her rooster tiicktd under lur
arm. But on her way »hc pushed open the church door, and
kneeling there on the marble pavement »he a»i»ted at MaM,
and the hird ihd not hinder her.
U the city of flowerti, 1 liked to watch the funefali of
the poor. In the shadow of Gjoito's lower, the (kairiciana of
Tuscany asBonibleiJ, and liavjni^ robed ihemselvt!!! for Uitir lelf*
impoted ta>k, the vhroudcd brethren pasied through ihc narrow
ttro^Ui to ACBk Ehc housed of the dead. And then placing iho
coffin on a bier, Ihey raised it shoulder high; and so, chantin^c
the *' Miserere," they laid the ouicaac to rest, Kcligion to the
Italians was a living reality; it was the bond of ChiUlian
brotherhood.
Then, a^am. at Venice there wst no canal so dark but had
its dickering lamp in honor of Deity or fiamt. And not only
VOL l-XKXII ^jc
i
I
466 T/m EVOLUTiOH or A SOCIAUST. [Jan.,
Ihat, but At every atreei corner there was A wayside ahTine, bt-
lore which ibf passer-by uncovered, oj ihe prafant htivlr. to
offer homage lo the Madr>nna and Child. Ir truth, TiAly wRfl
A land of KLinshine and oE faitb, atid the Churcb was the home
of rich ani) poor, PatrJctans or plche, ihey were alt one in ihe
eye of hcfivcn.
From Itftly we p^sed on 10 SwJtierlaAd, which in spil« of
ita pileJ up niouniains, wboae wbitr brows were nITcrcd 'or ihc
ki» of heaven, Switzerland lacked the soul oi the South, In
the Canton of Vaud the people were hard working and pros-
perou^i but amony them there wa« wanting thai familiar note
which in hftly linked world wiih world. For myself, ] may
ConfeiA IhaE lil« in Swliscrland consisted in travehng; from place
to pl-icc and from lake to Ukc, Here li w» htll social amuie-
mentft: dances and ihealricals, skaiing and tobogganing; clji&b*
ing up the heights or alcighirg in the iower hills. Apart from
ihat) \\ wat a democratic land tn which every man had hii'
vhare of government, U wd? a land where the people managed
their own atTair^, and throughout the canlcn^ there were 10
be seen no extremes of wcalT^h and povt?rty. The world's goods
were evenly distribated ; for, though some had more and some
had ksi, each had a competency, and each was aatt&fied.
Sometimes on a summer's day I used lo cHtnb thiough vine«
yard alLer vineyard, and W4tch the Swi^t peasants at work.
They were culling ttie great purple bunches with which they
filled their baskets; and theG, when the '* hue*' was piled up tu
overflowing^f it was 5trapi*ed securely on pach one's backj af|«r
which, alpenstock in han-i. each climbed ihe sttep ascent- They
wf^re 3 hardy, rugged people; ktndty loo, and they spoke ifi the
sing-song dialect of the hills. T[icif faces were wcather-bf atep,
and in their eyes w^% Ihe curious far-seeing look peculiar to
the mariner who scan« the horizon and to the pea^nt who
searches the heights- And being tired out with my climb 3 biul
rested awhile on a high grassy *lope» whcntrc I could sec rtowa
below the sleeping lake, with its boats lying at rest — their great
ssil^ unfurled like angels' wings. And in the deep ravine the I
fleecy clouds would gather, only to he tcKscd out by *he 6ngcrs
of the wind ; and far below the shifting summer clouds 1 could
hear the cowherd "yodeliug" to the distant kine — the souod
drifting up from the depths, as if the valley were a dark, whis-
pering gallery — and presently came the answering tinkle of
L
I906.I
TffB EVOLVTWN Oh A SOCiAUST.
oow-bellB. Acrosfi the ravine the mounlain^ to^c up tier upon
tier. »now white and pLir^n a.nd wiih silent voice they proclaimed
that Ehc «arth was good.
Ftom SwilEcrland we pushed further noith into Belgium,
where ihe spirit of religion agam perrneaTed (he national life.
But, unUkc the southern Und, where the sunshine is apt to
gel mto the bonea af the people, s,n^ lo produce a stale of
happ^ lethargy, here in Belgium the frpirit of social progress
and of commcrctal activity braced up the n«rve3 of the peo-
ple. Did not Ciesar once eay: " Ho rum omnium forti&simL
fiunt Belgic'*? Not in vain, surely, do the people of the
North Inhale the cold bceath of ibe northern seas, which gives
them fhcif hardy manhood and their indomitatile energy; for
every square inch of iilelgium is cultivated; every n^an and
woman arc bujy. And perhaps nowhere in the world i> their
social and Industrial or^antiation surpassed. Here the rfHcieni
«n<^ the capable are helped antl encoura^i^ed, while the inelli-
deoi and the criminal, though eliminated from the genera]
Bn&SA, are obliged to contribute, as far a£ may bv, to the com-
mon welfare of their country.
From Belgium we crossed over to England. But T^ngland^
viewed from the neighborhood of Eaton Square, waa not illu-
tninaling as a siudy, nor did the weekly "church parade," in
Hyde Park, yive one much insight into the national hfe. Once
I t>e^cd to visit the EaM End, where the totleri of the em-
pire Itved. But [ was only permitted to see a main ihorongh'
fare, after which I wa*; conveyed bai:k — ^lill under a double
escort— 'to Ihe polite woild* which cared nothing lor the weary
toilers
Then, at the end of the London *eason. we set out
Cor Germany. My impressions of Gerrnany were necessarily
fthetcby, contisting as they did of a few months in Rhine-land.
Ccrmany, to my mind, was a bock ol beer, with a man behind
it; and En the distance, a^ far as the eve could reach, uniforms
ttnd ihmjng sabres. The military element ceitainty added to
the eiTect of the scenery, and the Linden Gardens were
cbarmlng.
If I shut my eyes I can sec it Stilln The groups of stu-
dents with their caps and sashea; the officers gorgeous with
^Id lace and epAuIetlea; the round-faced, good-tempered
^'madchens" hurrying; hith«r and thitherto supply their needs;
468
The EvoLi/TfOTf of a SoriALisr^
the b«nd playing in the kio^k iini3 the Rhine boais plying be-
low ^ And above ihe sound ol guticfale Aitd llie atr^ins of mu'
aic, came thr ^udilen "hochl both T' of the studenlfi ns they
eHnked gUs^e? ftnd drank ugain.
And thrn the Khtn? itacir was like a IoEi|f ttreini set viifa
fairy tale«- To see an old gray c^tle perched up on the
ora^s, and to know its Icgendt was lr> me a pd^<? Irom dream-
land. So one fIoat«(l down the riv«r and list^n^d for the voice
of the Lorelei — oj \h$X alluring fircn who ccmbed her trtfaei
in the mLdni|;ht hrecj? ai\A »ang her beautiful 4oti£;. Ijut woe,
woe to the mariner who gave ear, for the song of the fiken
wa« the sailor's dUge.
Or xgain, one c^repl past the Mouse Tower, which siand«
in mid'Stream, where (he wLcktd hifihnp Tlrd from jiitlgtneiit,
Sut there was no safety for him who ''cornered" the gnln,
and left the p^^or to stirve, Thcicfore. the aven^inif rodent!
breast the roaring current, and m the tower in iiiid-atrtam hi»
bones give teslimony lo his sin.
From the REiine-land we drifted off io winier In a certain
capital, whtrfp I was lo eludy tnusLc and aiL But life in the
capiial was gay, nnd nwing lo social pursuit?, and the inroad*
of the dresEmakcr. the programme for seEf-improvcroent jufTcrcd
some curUilment- Besides that, the dresEmaktr was a Eiudj-
in herself, (or, to jud^c by hei manner^ my visits alTordtd hei
fts much amiis<Tncni as profit.
"Ah! c'efit Mademoiselle*" . . . *' Eneore noe robel"
'*Mon Di«u» mon I^ieu,'^ And »he would laugh gaily to her*
Aelf.
Then, at each subsequent " fjit^ng," she relittd for my
bene6t the current news- Indeed, bhe had a gift for coovctTa-
tion, and. in the maiter of pins, an nlier diarrgard for life.
'* Mais oui '*— this, as she enveloped me in generous raw
cdieeft — it would appear that Monsieur So-and So was paying
CDUfl to Madeirn.'isclle X- ; ihat Madame la Donaificrc d'
had pone to take the waien; that M^tfemotscile P , lo the
world's aatoni»hm«nt, had cniercd a convcni. Ah I the pity
of it. Had she bectt plainer or less giflid^but thcref "c*e»t
fini,"
At this (noment there waa a clank of swords outiide 1h<
windfiw, fallowed by the click of heels, and looking out 1 taw
a pair of cavalry officers embrace one another, Set^ng this I
I906.]
The EyoLUTiO.v of a Socialist.
4^
lauglied, whcrcupoii the dre^^makcT also peered through tlie
drawn curtainsv
"liens I" was all shp said; and she relillcd her mouth
vid) pins. "So!" fihe concijiued, *' was \i irue that Mademoj-
solJe was to be brrdesmaid to M^deoioiselM l.i Viconrtc&sc
Here I nodded an allirmaLivc,
*' Mais oui, Madame had said it.'
"Si. St," ruminated
the French womfltj. "there were many thing* in the air."
"In cfTect/' said she in conclusioni " it icemcd that an an-
nouncettient would shortly be made concerning Mademoiselle
hewlf"
"'Indeed,'" said I coldly; "and oq whose authority?"
" Ah-h E was U thua ? She comprehended T And after
wir'^herc she stopp*;d, shriȣgcd her shoulders, and spread
out her h*ndi in depreciation^" there were others. Kor If
IilademoLseUe could but figufe lo herself^ it was but yesterday
that the name of another suitor was mentioned — " Then, see-
ing I w^3 immovable, the French dressmaker assumed nn
apobgotic altitude.
"For fiure, it was not for her to discuss the affairs of
IW ad em 01 idle. Perish the thought 1 En effet, it was Madame
la ComtCEse ."
And, A.\ her informant had been my chaperone on a recent
occasion) 1 silently vowed vengeance against the French sys-
leco; for, however gratifying it might be to know that onc'a
private aflaiTft were potent to relieve the monotony of lilc for
the dressmaker, it was disconcerting to think that one's ro-
mances would certunly be pinned Into the lining of the next
clients
Thus, amid a variety of frivolities,! passed my days, some-
tiraes abroad. Aomctimea in England. But the dawn wan not
yet.
It hat been said bj* a certain writer thai "Man U not quite
man until he hai drunk deep of (he cup which humanity must
drain." And of him who ha$ been touched by the hand of
aorrow, it is written thit a '"deeper disUBss hath humanixcd
his soul anew." And I know thfit this is true, for sorrow is
part of ihc ni£;htM'atch which precedes every lunrising.
Yn; the darkest hour is ever before the dawn which, when
it cornea, comcn with noiseless trend. And thus, little by little,
470 The Evolution of a Sociaust, \}
the hnrtron lightent, and ns the inoming advances it throws
into relief many things hitherto unknown, or but partially
realised, [t was at the dawn tha^l I IcarnI the meaning of
'* the depth, Ihe nwfulness. the grandeur of human IWeJ" It
was then that the immortal issues of life and death rose up be-*
foie mc like haunting sjiectre^, refusing to be laid. What was
1 do^ng, t asked myself, for the commoT; good? Nay; what
was I doing to justify my own existence P And lo theie ques-
tions I found no aitswer So I stood awhile al the cross-roads
and looked up at iife's finger-posts, of which some pointed lo
the can and some to the west.
In the mcilitations of Marcus AutcKus, Ihe philosopher
write?: "This H the w^y cf salvation - . . with your whok
heart to do what is just and to say what t» true, and one thing
more, to find life's fruition in heaping good on good, so clo&e
that not a chinlc is left between," And again 1 looked up at
the »[gi)-po^1. when 1 found there was left but one i\^\\- It
pointed east — to a world of tears,
3uj Eor the next three years, T lost myself in a nether
world which lay embedded in the depths of London slums^
From time to time, however, I came up to the surface to
breathe, for the air below was heavy with poisonous gprms.
It was a world which was new to mr. yet it was one which I
always felt must exist, It was a place of sorrow and of weep-
ing. Where humanity walked arm in arm with grJtn misery,
and where the gjtunt figure of starvacioiL daily stalked xXs
victims* Here the dignify of woman was lost or forgotten;
here ihe demon of drink ever beckoned. And everywhere —
death waited in the shadow. Verily, it seemed ■ review of
inankind at its worsts To all outward seeming, the East E&d
slums were but a j^arden of bairen fig trees. And yet, to tbv
barren tree was given a la^t chance, '*Lord! let it alone thit
year also," pleaded the dresser of the vineyard,
3uL the modern dres£er seems indifferent to the cultivation
ol home industries. His is the policy of the open door. " Lei
it die," Bays he, "There are fig trees and to spare \t\ the
world's preserves."
So ihey die, these (ig trcea in the garden of life: ^^^* A*
the dresser of vines truly says, of human trees there is no I«clc^'
In this particular locality of which 1 now write — in this one
parish situated in the heart of London— the population runs to
The Rl^OLVTWi^ OF A SOCfAUST.
471
hundreds of chousanda. In iu evil courts 1 suw little childien
pUying on ch« brinW of the abysa In these haunu of vice
EDorality wa^ at a low «bb, and the record of infant mortaJity
WIS high Hut ^^TtgUnd been a heathen cpuntry, the super-
fluous children might 'have been thrown to the dog;. But
EngUnd wis Christian, tLierefore it was the parents and oot the
dogs that destroyed the younf^ lile.
Far awiy, oa the shores <f( luishmaan, there is a cemetery
reiierved for thu uab^ptized, ol whom the Hon- Eokity Lawle£fi
writes in the opening stnnta:
Little feel too young and soft to walk;
Little lips loo young and pure to talk;
Little faded grass tufts, root and stalk.
Tnay are mourned, these little ones, in the wild Aran Islands,
-whore every child is a God-gent gift They arc spurned in
London, where child-life is cheap. The inhabltafkls of Kn^lish
slunif cannot mika end; maet, so the children must gOj This
is one of the clrawbacks to materialism.
An article which appeared lately in the ftTinixhtty Rtvitw,
deals with one section cf this under world of London. The
writer of the article deals with plain facts, and hli biati»lLCfl
may bv accepted without fear of exaggeration. Referring tc
the w-igcs received by the ^ewiiiy girls of our city, Mr, W, &,
Lilly writes as follows: "They get from three lu nine pence
n dofeA for making ulsters; from live pence to seven pence a
doitn for mahinK children's prnaforcH' — findini; Iheir own cotton \
sixteen pence a do^en for embroidered chemises; two and
nine pence a doxen for workmen'^ f\\in^ , one and two pcnc«
for malcing a lined skirt with striped Rounce and stitching;
00c penny a pntr for making gtjlf knickcr* complete." ** Is il
aoy wonder." asks the same writer, ''human nature being what
h is, that miny girl^ find this life, of such hard toil and scanty
Tomunaration, intolerable, especially when we remembirr Ihiit
ifae employment is precuioueP . . , The wonder to mc is,
not that many of our poor seam«treH»c» yield 10 teniplalion,
but that to many resist it," Such, we are lold, is the "Cost
oi Che«pncaf/' which, with its attendant evjtf, is lispping ihe
very Ouiiationa of society. Ttie practice is unfortunately not
pscaUar to Knjfland, nor Is it unknown in the United Stales.
47*
Thb. bvolvtion of a SOCIAUST.
[Jan.,
Theie Ar« the d^yt of comparriea and truaU, when (he indivi-.
<tutl U \rt%X. itght rif, To-<tAy, the capitalitl it no longer re-
iponiiblCf and the firm caa do no wrongs In chose latter tim^r,
lh« forcfiiftn «ct« for the employer, and the ag«»t Jcir the slum
laEftlord, The result is a swt.'atei.1 pcf6]>l(f. It is a slate of
thinif* which Joe» not tally whh Christian teaching- Indeed,
undar a Catholic r^^ims Iho pothion would he unTenable-
In pre- Reformation dayi, the sweating syslem was unlcnown,
for fair wai[4a and fair work have always been the doctrine of
Iha itiAthing Church, According; to St. Thomas Aquinaa thcr«
h rto llv]n)£ wngie. Wn^t hr advocAtea is a wage which will ea-
■ uf« the comfort and wcU-hcing of the loifcr, as also thai of
hU dependents. And Carly]c, who view£ the question from a
humanitarian stanclpointi insists upon the duty of social ju^ice
frcim man to man,
ll i* the abience of thia justice In great cities which caci-
not but strike the modern sociologist- It is this crying io-
juilke which causes half the crime and movi of the discoa-
tent. Here in the depchv of London, one man's life means
Afiothcr man^ death. It is a struggle for a b^ire existence.
It U a hand*to-hand encounter, in which the hungry genera*
tloni trample over the bodies of the slain. They are lighting
for life. They struggle m\A kiEL It is the panic of the
atricken^
Bfforc iheir eyes pass the richer of England. They see it
all (fo by; the griinj the wool, and the bullion. But not for
them it the golden earn nor the warm cloth stuffs, not for
them the power of purchase. What then? For them^ragft
and atarvation. So the wealth of the empire flows past along
the hL^hro;id to the nLittered curses of the British poor.
Had any one toH me of the existence of such a world ol
prWaiion 9.nd sorrow, 1 would have aniwered with the unb«-
lievinij (lisdple: "' Unless 1 see," And as to him. so unto me
the ftjght wi; g Even— perchance that I, too, might t«ll what
I bid a«oa. Tat fitperlence was not e^i"=^ without pain,
for wh:it 1 MW in those three years was like so many glimpses
into the Inferno,
Sinietimei the lights and scenes were such thai I shrajik
b»c:k in fcJtr. thinking 1 had leaned loo far over the edge of
hell. And what struck me most was the almost universal dis*
t%g\K\\ f >r wtm lay beyond, the contempt of humanity for the
«l«rnftl issues. U was a toiling, struggling world, frciD which
the Dcliy w^ at] but banished.
To my mind the outlook was such as to recall the passage
SB Richier's e^ay, where the earthly pilgrim, who jaurncys
ftom star to aur in the pcbjU of Ofion. is overwhelmed by
^ sense of gfeat va^tne^s^ qI thdt UmiclesS) unfathomable vault,
mjnpluTTibed and unmeastirable, wherein Ei^^htEiting «uDs whirl
through darkest night, and where miilions of worlds iwing in
^he blue. Then it was thpit the spirit of man ached under in-
finity. For the infiuily was void — empty of God, And b«ing
'vveighed down by the Ic^nelineas of a umvenc which owned
neither MaWcr nor Ruler, iLe pilgrim was unable to baar the
t^urdcn of thought- And covering up his face he sank down;
«Q<I from the depths or his bouI a cry of anguish broke forth:
"Father, where art thou?"
In the modern world of labor the same cry might be
uttered with equiil cruth. For, though the angel of God has
HAt hii mark upon the tlntel of a few doorb^ the spirit of un*
l^elief has set his s^ai upon the feinaindpf; nnd witfi (yJTig
finger haft scrawled the wordr : " God H dead ! *'
Sa the inhabi-tants of London alums, hiving beeji robbed
of the faith which was their birthright, live as they can — or
dk if Ihey mmz — not as believers should die, with their faces
to thQ east, whence cometh the light, but like the bcaat« ol
the field, ccouGhed down in the shadow, without sorrow and
without hope, To the majority of the toilers death is the
«nd.
Hiiw dilfFE'ent is thia fTom the pa&ain^ of a pagan aouL
^hofte exit i^ deacribcd by Michael Fairless:
"Socrates faced death with the magnificent calm bred of
<l(gniriecl f^kmiljufity. Ke h^d buiU for himself n desired
Iteaven of color, light, and precious eiones— the philosophic
formula of those who lel the apirilual abot^e the materia^ and
worahip truth in the beauty of holiness- Uk Is not troubled
by doubt or fear, for the path of the just Hes open before hif»
face. He forbid* mourning and Umentations as being out of
plaee; obcyi minutely and cheerfully the directioni of hii
executionert and parses with unaiTccted diiinily in ihr appre-
htniion of that larger truth, for which he had constar^tly pre*
pired hitOMlfi His friends may bury him, provided they will
I
474
The Evolution of a Sociaust,
\h
remember that they are not burying Socrales, and thar til
tbmjji on/ be in order, a cock muBt go lo /E*cuUpiu5/'
Thu5 died ttie ancienl who knew not God. Bui shall we
blame the ouccan of great cities if hia manner cf dying \M
unbccuEnmi^ a followGr of the Way } Sliall we despair of mercy
for the Victim of economic disorder, who is what hi^ surround-
ings have made him? Or rather, shall wc not think wiib
Robcit Browning:
Would I fain with my impotent yearning
Do at] for this man;
And dare douU he aJone shall not help him
Who yet alone may?
To thi£ end Calvary was strewn with briars and the King
was crowned wilh thorns, and acrns^ Fhc ag«£ comes the voice
of the Great Reformer: "I have compassion on the multi-
tude." Like a ray of light, the scn|cnc<^ of pjty penetrates
the aurroundin^ darknes's, bringing with it merey and paTdon.
A^ Plato aays: ^' Umbra Dei cat lux." And in the reful-
gence of this light thrown from the Cross, I seemed to see a
world of men, of whom each was mf^de in the image of his
Maker.
And. \o\ as I gazed, each soul bore a burden of sorrow;
each was wrapped in a mist of tears. Then the word,s of the
Celtic poet resounded in my cars^ *' Man has wooed and won
the world and has fallen weary; and not," as he adds, '* for
a time, buE wilh a weariness that will not end until the la«t
auEumn, when the stars shall be blown away like withered
leaves/' and the harvest of souls is garnered
of eternity.
\
Into the barm fl
TtlH CHURCH AND HI:K SAIXTS.
BV jAMEE J- rdX, D-I>,
HOot of all sbould wrilcts I>car in niiml I^iat llir l^r^it law of
llJitOVy i*, tiever lo dan: say wliat i» not Une, aud {h«ri never
to lear lo «Ay what is true, tbftt do suspkicu of favor or of
nalicv may fall upon their wf ri tings -^ /.a' A7//
I Mc no wdous moiivi? for diaiiujruistiin^ from popular tra^
dilioDs those which a,te soractinics designnled by tbr name of
tfcole^i.Vilknl IfaditimiiS, because they are tEiaiiity curteot in
eccUsbutLcaJ circlta, audi ai in monaHlenef^ «r amOQg the
clergy, and even coonecrated by liturgic*! mooumeni*- — /ifv.
/», C /Jr Sm<,i/. SJ*
The chkf fault of the ultra -conaenratif* 9pmt In (b«c niat-
ters U that it do«s not consider the bislorical beeiuning and
de^'vlupmviiE of Xhv utimerous eiroi^ whiL'h apptrUTCd and were
spreaJn mostly *iuiie in ftood Uithn in the pasl- — Ra^- ifari*
matm Cris^r. S./J
La cHtifjuc histuriqut^ n^plirjii^e A la vie des taints eat
arriv^c A ^les rcsuUntii qui n'offrmt rien de bieti surptpnnut
pour riiiicotiqup «Gt babitu^ jl manier les tcxtee et i mterprtfter
Ics monunicnts, mais [{uJ ue Eatsaetil pa^ de dfrangcr le^ id^ed
du plui grand uoaihtt, "//i/'fif^r^i Iff^afhi^i. S./.,JJfiifaitifiiU.\
I.
FEW months a^jo TiiE CATiroMC World pub-
lished acme papera which had for objtct to «x*
poflfl hoitf the advance of biblical cricicUm* in-
stead of ipjuring tbe position of the Catholic
Church, has materially strengthened tt. by rcle-
galiog to their proper place some Iradiiionai interpreutiojiB 4nd
■opinions, which, having failed to beftr the searching light of
modern critical methods, were brinninK obloquy on anthoriiaUve
leaching and proving a serious fttumbling block to many Cfttho-
\lM t^ff-dr* >tA[t£*'f*f^9*t. r*v lllppalji' ttfUhtyv, |hiT|«iidi4j |kn4aOn: Br
tCM lie U &*«■*« 4h lki[lMLiia«.
476 The Church and Her SAmrs. [Jae-.
Sonne inquirks vvHich. in con^«<fuence of ihe&c pupcra, have
re4-hed the writer ol them suggest tlial a simLUr survey of the
work O) our critics in the field of Church history, or. to he
ro>re pred«c, in tbit partlcuUr faction of Ctiurcb history called
higloloj^y, or the blogrAphieE of the fiatntSi will be neither un-
timely nor i»f»prrifi[jit)le. While the opjjotients of C^rislianily
in general and of all super naturalism have exploited the Biblci
tho£e who aim ^peciriliy at the Ccitholic Church have found a
Urge supptemsntsry arsenal in the hisloHrs of the faints, thdr
shrines, relics, and S3:n? pirtEcuEar forms wh^ch popular devotion
to them has taken. If our anUgonicts were correct in their
asf^umptton that the Church is compromised every time that a
spuriou* rdic 19 detected, or som; miraculous story is shown to
have only a purely imaginative basis, the days of the Church
would be numbered. Many, no doubt, who use the^e argum<;ntH
are convinced of their cfficicy. They have, let us *ay, estab-
lished by critical study, the fact that some palpable error under*
liefi the devotion paid to come caint'a name; they may even
have shown that no such person ever existed. Of, the claims
of some pUcc ol pilgHmage, or some diocese, are shown to
involve a gUring anachranism. They trace to a comparatively
rect^Til origin some legend that purports to be a reliable con-
temporary account of events Chat happened many centuries ago-
In each case ihcy treat their discovery as one which clinches
the charge against the Church ol fostering superstition «ind
deliberately propagating error.
5)rneLim??, no-v-ft'diys, when toleration has become good
form, u writer is content merely to mention the detection of
the fraud. Or again, we may find a scholar whose knowledge
of Catholic docirinc Instructs hiin to train hU ordnance on the
very corner ^tone of the Catholic system; he points out how
the error di&po^es once and for all of the Church's claim tO
infallibility.
At one time the writer is wrong both in bis fact£ And iit
his arguments,
^ In other ca^e9, the facts are, in the main, Indisputable, but
a false interpretation has been put on them which makes th«iQ
yield false conclu^ionr^. It is instances of thiii Utter kind that
ate most harmful in strengthening outside prejudice, and In ere* I
atin^ unffisinesB, if not doubtn in the minds of Catholics For
ihe truth of the facts Impiiris an undeserved dignity to the
I
■»906,]
Tne Church anv JfEU Sa/a't^
'
infer«nccs; the authority which the author rightly enjoys as a
historian ia extended to the reasorer. When a case o( ihi»
kind occurs it cannot be met with sweeping d^nUla or evasJona.
Thifl m«th(?d miy sitisfy the doiple-mindcd, but ll will either
produce no e^ect at aU on the tcilcctin^ and serious, or «k« it
^vill aroLtse suapicion? and strengthen doubt- Love of truth and
^vGd the \owar motLve of expediency* dictate the right course
%o be loElowed by whoever is called upon to deal with diHi*
^uttieiof this kind- It is to frankly acknowledge the fdci5. and
^t the same time demonEtrate that they have nowj^e the oml-
X10U3 import imputed lo Ihem ; and this may he done without
AbAiing one jot of the toyalty due to historlcBl truth.
Let us take an example which, we have reason to know,
lias given a serious shock to more thin one Catholic student.
ILt is lound in the history ol the Wtirf are af Scicntt. ttnd Theology ,
^vhich i$ used as a text>book in almosc every American unU
^cf&ity, and is to be found on the shelves ol every public
library that makes any pretense to complctenrss. In a chapter
recording "the victory of scientific and literary methods over
belief in the supernitura!," the author draw£ ^petiial attention
to one '* bearing on the claims of that great branch of the
Church which supposes Itself to possess a |divine safeguard
a^ainit error." Wh^t is the overwhelming evidence that sweeps
Awjy the Church's trust Jn the Divine Promise ? Nothing iess
atartHng than that about hali a century a^o " wa^ brought lo tight,
t>y literary research, irrefragable evidence that the great Huddha
-— Sttkyu-Muni himself — bad been canonized and enrolicd among
^he Christian aainti whose intercession may be invoked, and
In who»e honor Images* altarr, and chapels may be erected -
and thiM not only by the u^nges <^f the medj.-eval Cburcht Greek
and Roman, but by the special and mfalJible sanction of a long
Mflfti of pope», from the end of the sixteenth to the end of the
fiincteenth century — a sanctici granted under one of the mofii
citrioni errors in human history." And Mr- White proceeds to
unfold the Jtory of Barham ^ud Josaphaf. Briefly resumed,
kli account r* that the romance of Bartaam and Jmaphaty in
whkTh the lariiT is re^iresentcd ns a Hindoo prince converted to
Chritliantty, made it* appearance in the fevenih century. After
bfttDg Incorporated in the wotki of Sl John Dama«cene, it ob-
tained great vogue and, at length, secured admiEsion into what
Mr, White oalL* the Liva of iht Sainfs.
I
T}iE CHUaCff AND //Kit S A/NTS. [Jan.,
In the year 1590 or thereabouts, '^ when the general subject
of canoniialion having been brotighi up at Rome, Sixtu^ V.,
by virtue of his infalLlbility and immunity against error in every*
thing feinting io faith and incira[K. sanctioned a revised list of
the saints, authorizing and ditectrng it to be accppffd by th«
Church; and among thosf on whom he forever infallibly Mt
the seal of heaven ^vas included 'the holy $t, Josaphat of
India, whose wonderful ac1& Si. John of Damascus has related.'
The saint's festival is fixed for the twenty- seventh of Novcrn-
bef. Pius IX, ofl]ciat1y approved of the honor paid to the
saint/' continues Mr. Whiio, "and there is a fine church in a
large Italian tiiy dedicated to Divo Josaphi^t. So much for the
hagiological side; now for the criticaL It is proved that the
entire story of Barlaam and Jo&aphat was copied almost lileraJljr
from an early biography o( Buddha."
Mr. White closes with a triumphant Quod trat dtmonstr^^^
Jum^ "Thus it was that by virtue of the infallibility vouch*
Sftfed to the papacy, in matters of faith and aioruls, Buddha be* J
came a Chtistian ^aint/' In ninciy-ninc cut of a hundred
ca^es, whoever gives credence to the central Etatemcnt in this
acGognC, will accept also Mr. Whitens inlerpretntions of its
GLgniAcance. For the stranger it will settle the question of
the Catholic Church's authority; she halh blasphemed, what
further need have we of lesiimony?
The 9implc<rninded Catholic wit) shut the book, saying nn
enemy hath done this, His brother, who may have learned
that an assertion made by a serious author, and supported by
evidence that hn^ baen critically ti'tcd, musl have something
behind It, will not to easily brush aside the dil!tcuhy. which, J
though it may not succeed in generating a doubt, nevcrthe-'
less remains to L-o-operuLe with others in accumulative argo-
naut.. Inform him, however, that men whose fidelity to tfa<
Church cannot be questioned entertain the same opinion a« is
expressed by Mr. White concerning the origin of the Jo^phnl
legend, and ai cnce our Iriend is satisfied that all Mr. White's
inferences, and hh allegations relative to the destructive fotce
with which this critical di?icovcry ahattcri the infallibility o|
the Church, must be mere moonahine.
That in the histories of the saints there is a great deal of
Imaginative material, that many relics are spurious, have be«n
long admitted by Caiholic scholars. But it Is equally tfne
i9o6,J
The Church and her saints.
4W
It these errors nowise bt^ar on Ctr? mfalLibility of the Church,
' the very good Tcason that the Church does not infallJbt)'
pronounce on the genuinenesE of any relic, nor guarantee the
aucbeniidty *>f any cDllccnnn o( sairns" biographic*, nor o( any
one iri p*nicular. It is a misfortane. however, that the laith-
ful arc Icit to acquire all the knowledge which feac^hcs ihem
<^n this subject from those who insiAl upon twisiiog it into an
argument against our faithn The easy remedy for this evil i>
^o present tlie matttre fruits of our own schatars to the read-
ing clfl3se5 oi our people, who are sure to meet with the poi-
fton. and arc therefore entitled to have the antidote provided.
"The AelaI rcaitlta of our fetudy," says Father GrUar, speak-
ing as a critical hisEorian, " must be prcBenled to the world.
Co the people. Yes, indeed, to iht peoptt : there are not two
^orts of truth, one for the loarned and one for the simple,
flvcry one has the s^me ab.solutc right to the one truth Ihat
Is the common posaession ol all; the poorest peasant may re-
joice in the tight of this common aun. So-called frienda of
&he poor are trying iit our times Xa darkeit it with hijeIe— let
4t but shine the brighter in the Catholic worJd, in Church and
f>a.lace and in the poor man's cottage."
IT,
There does not exist, as we have £aid, any infattlbic ^anc*
lion (or the authenticity of the mitaculous accounts that are
oAQcctcd with &omu saints' names; nor for the ^enuincnesa
^>i thia or that relic. Many 6uch histories are legendary ;
xnany sjch relics cptirioufi. In 1900. before an audience over
xvbtch a Papal Nuncio presided. Father Grisar, after rccnindinif
Ilia hetrer», with a pndc pardonable in a fon of St. Ignatius,
Ihat the habit he wore wis a ^ufticient pledge of lii& loyalty
Co faith, said: "For thirty years my sEudies have tnade me
occupy my<el^ with the large number of errors which have
gradually, durJng many ccnturiob, slipped into the history and
the oncer life of the Church, and of which aome remain to thif^
eJay. Around the Uvea and the miracles of the saints, around
their relics and sanctuaries, a number or unauthentic^ted ira-
tlitionfi, accounts o[ mtr^cles, and fatilea have du^lcffd- some
of which are beautiful and poetic, while others are atmply
uifly artd taitdesa- Worfic scill, want of knowledge and judg-
ment, aud, often, rvr-n all «orta of baiE passian^H have worked
4»>
The Church and h^r Saints.
[JM..
together 1o prcduce fai^e relics and faki? shrines and to pre-
flent them for the worship of (he simple people '"
He added tt)a( against such abuser CaEhoLic scholat^ must
Aglit fof the sake of trulh, ihi^ honor of the Church, and the
interest? (jf holy faith. The Reverend Father enforced his
suiemeats by ckhig aomc illustrations cf the extremes to which
credulity has been carried in past timet: *'A village church
near Geno^ pioduced, and for maRy years exhibited, ihe tail
of the a» on which ChTisE rode into Jerusalem. The rope
from which Juda* hanged himself, and the pieces of silver lor
which he betrayed our Lord, the saddle of one ol the ihre«
kjng4. the marble table on which Abraham wsi about to sac*
ri^ce his son, were all kept as relics." The speaker n:ijj;^hi have
coiititiued indefinitely to spin out a catalogue of Btich impoM*
tiocit, some grotesque and others little short of fhocking. Nor
was he singular in the ejtpcricncc he reUlcd of having *' ofico
been ashamed to hear priests and saciislans tell educated peo-
ple of other religions their traditional errorji about the boljr
things of the churches under their care/'
We have heard Mr While refer to some Livts af tkt
SfitHis. The Josaphat legend, he tells us, gof into the LHtf
cf rht Sainti — *^ most important of aM I " There are vari-
ous collections of lives of saints; their historical authority
in the Church i^ ju:>t what is conceded to th^m by hisiorica]
cricidfim, treating them as hbtorlcal bookf. Oaly two vol-
umes have some quasi-otHcial recognition^ but Their standing
falls far short of serving as a guarantee for their historic ac-
curacy. One is the Breviary, the other the Af^riyr&t»gy. It
ts probably to the latter that Mr, White refers. His statement
that Pope Sixtus V., by virtue of hit infallibilily. sanctLnned a
revised list of the saints^the remark sounds amusing to any-
body who is familiar with the doctrine of infallibility — that this
list was enforctid by successive popes for two hundtcd and
fifty years, and finally confirmed by I'opc I*ius JX,, is an ex-
tremely erroneous and misleading way of expressing the truth
that these popes approved and authorif:ed Ihe publication ofj
the Roman Matt^toh^y^
Now it will be graated, we suppose, by everybody, that
Catholic scholars arc better guides than is Mr. White concern- ■
ing what prhnouitcements and publications theology holds to
faU, or not to fall, withi^i the scope of the infalUble preic^a-
I906,J
Tf/E CllURC/i AND HER SAINTS.
A%\
tiTC. And Catholic autboritles do not confirin Mr. White on
thU point. Lcl us hear some of Ihrra on (he Martyrffh^y
and. at the same time, on the historic value of the Brtviaty
legends: "The Brfviary," said Father Grisar, "is a trouble lo
the scrupalous, because iu le&sons ccnuiii many detaiU in the
Uvcs of saints which cannot atand before hlsloricul critid&fn.
But it wotild br a g^r^at mistaVc for a prksl to take his his-
tory ffciti the Br4viary and lo stop thcfe. The Church gives
11% ihc Brtvutry as a book oE devotion (and a mo&t beautiful
one it it), DQt av a work 9f historic science," After tdd]D|r
thai* three hundred yeara ago, a number of untenable stoKea
wore thrown out of the firfviary, and that a new revteion to-
day would undoubtedly remove many more, he itirns to the
Martyr»logy, which Mr, Wtfltc icHs us \% guaranteed by infalli-
ble authority: "'The case of the Maftyrology js the same, ex-
e«pi that it ihould cause even leas uneasiness than the Btfvt-
itry. fince il has lew authority. The Martyohsy rests en the
authority of EaronSus; it would be Lo the advantage neither
of acience nor of religion to look upon historical criticism as
cloacd by the studies of that great scholar."
A stiU more eminent historical scholar, wearing the sata<
robe as Father Gniar. has spokrn in similar terms uf thesi
volumes, Hii ftatements on (he subject are involved in some
equally important, and more far-reaching observation* on the
value of traditions ec^lcsiasHcal in general.
As thi4 term includes every mailer pertaining to our sub-
ject, it will be iofltructive to recall his words. He lirsi care-
fully sets aside the dogmatic tradition which has tor its objecfi
dogmas revealed by Cbnst to the Apostles, but not contained
in the sacred wridngi- With this kind of tradition, or the
dpctrine that belongs to it, we have no concern here, further
than to remark that its fidelity is divinely guaranteed, Thrn
he proceeds to the sort of tradiiionA which are in (question,
He writes; ■* It must be clearly understood that we do not
admit what are called C-ath&Hc Tratiili^»s. ms if they partici-
pated in the smLlleiiE degree in the character of inerrancy of
dogmatic tradition, opinions which have been current during a
notable period of time among a certain rLumber, or even the
universality, of Catholics witb regard to facts which certainly
do not form part of the deposit of revealed truth, and the
cerininty of which ha'i never been assured by the inliiUible
VOL iJtxxir*3i
A
44a
TfiE Cft'fiCH AND HER SAINTS.
pan*.
I
judgment o\ the Ctiurch," The bre^dib of this vuiement
might defeat its purposei so he continues: "To make this
obscrvntion more practical* we may ^a^y at once tbat it applies
capeciaUy to the Roman hfarSyrolagy and to the hislotJcaJ le-
gcnds of the Roman BrtviA'-y'"' He adds that he purposed
pre&entin); -a work cstabitshiiig this judgment lo A Certain
tfcicnlifi*; Conj^Tvss, when be fourjtl ihat he had been aotici
paled by a writer in the Roman Jesuit organ* the Civilta
CatJff/Ua, who decEared that the Afartyfah^y has no dogmatk,
and no special historical value-
ReEurning to the subject of general iradiiion, the bftsis ol
much of the Lizti of the Saints, he says: " I see no seriout
motive for dislingutshing from popular Iradiiions those thai
are sometimes designated by the name o\ ecctesiaEtJcal tradi
tions, because ihey are mainly current in ecclesiastical circles,
Bucb aa in monasteries, nr among the clergy, aod even conse-
crated by liturgical mi^numents, The clergy and monies of the
Middle Ages were, as a rule, well provided for in the matter
of credulity, especially in things concerning the honor of their
local Chur(!h. It might even be shown that they were a little
more (han bold in turning everything to account for the mak-
ing of facta of this kind* and thus giving btrth to apparent
iradiliona/' What would not many an American Catholic,
who, when journeying through Europe, has experienced the
same hLimiliaiing confusion as Father Grisar aufTercd, have
ffiven to hiive been able to hand ■ copy of Father De Smedt*3
liUle work, open at the above page, to the non-Catholic hy-
standrrs?
L'-gendary hagtology has recently been made the subject
of a book by a scholar who ranks as a specialist or expert in
this branch of historical criticism. He \% a member of that
IdtRous corporation of ecclesiastical scholars known a& the
BoEIandistB, to who^e indefatigable labors the Church owes a
whole library of stately volumti containing lives of the saints. 1
Father Gnsar was correct, we feel quite sure, in hi^ belief
that many Catholics are distressed because they think that
the Church Is responsible for, and obliges ihcm to belJeve^
many banlesa stories, and that to clear away theae enors \%.
a duty we owe our brethren. But, while undertaking to re-
oaovc these stumbling blocks from the path of the faithful.
Diie must carefully guard against shocking the faith of the
I
I906.] TV/A' CtiURCn AND HER SAJNT^. 4^5
rirapU, wounding the sen^ibiljtlcA of the pious, or provoking
Ihe ual oE tbe ultra-cuEiBcrvatLVc;.
It would be dtlficull: to £nd a better example of prudence
ftnd suavity in method, cocnbined wild elTicflCEous eFTorl, than
is to be found in Father Ddahayr's baolr- Ntiliody can /ail
to »cc that his purpose is to render our hagTological literature
more y*3uable, more edifying, to *« the reall)' worthy biog*
rapMcs in a more Uvor&ble li)^ht. tc remote ihcm b«yond the
nn^ of suspicion* by clcatising the gild of its dross, The
loy&liy to truth which he displays in applying to the matter the
Mrici methods of historical study, and ibe frankness with whith
he acknowJcdges its results, are a reply to the often repealed
reproach directed towards the Church that she is afraid to
face scholarly critici^ni; and it breaks all the force of such
ari^LjEnents as the lypicaJ ow^ that we have taken from the
}Var/arf of Scirii-e rtfif/r T^^lo^y, At the same time, while
he lindi it necessary to deny all historical value to a legend
or tradition, he does not faiJ to remind hU reader that it may
»il11 possess a higher value a% a lesfon of edification and
spiritual in^e ruction r which, very ofLen, was its sole original
aim. To give our readers some idea of its contents will help,
however altghtJy, towards the end for which the learned
Jesuit hat written and published this useful little book, which
w^Lild be treated very unjustly by whgever wguld take bulk
to be the cHtcrion of merit.
Ill,
Here a not irrelevant d«gressi[>n niny be permitted, H the
assailants of the Church have taken for granted that she is
committed to sustaining ail that jcems \o be history in the
lives oF the saints, the genuineness of reJics, and the veracity
ol the traditions that have clustered around shrines or other
lUioaumentH dear to popular devotion, thoir niisapprchension
has been fostered by Calhnlics themselves. Far. scarcely any
ebi«ct Of atory of the above classes but has found it^ apolc-
fists who have not hesitated to declare, and prove by argu-
ments, that «ecmed tii th«m«clvrs and liie outsider to place
the Church behind their contention, that the Church's divinely
g^uided authority was pledged to the controverted ciaim.
A*per*ions upon legends have repoatedly been treaced as an
attack on the faith. Not very Inng ago, for instance, the
The CHVRCti A^iD ff£it Saints.
Uam.
Crnditioos concerning the apostolic origin of certain 3ces in Uic
Souih of France — traditions which Father Delah^ye does not
hesitate lo call legendarj*— were championed with an Ardor of
language, and a promptness in resorting to disciplinary argu-
xnenu, thai could not have been surpassed if it had been tfav
veracity of the Gospels Ihat was at atake. In hit lynop&ift oE
the pKncipaL effors of hagiography. the reverend BoMandiu
rank* that of opposing to the solid conclusions of scieatilic
research the tradition of the church in which the saint Ik et>
peciaUy honored.
The causes which have led to this iatransigeaot attitude
towards even (he ino£t solid and welt-grounded cr^ticiBin
though numerous, arc not hard lo specify. We must be con*
tent to merely indicate two or three of the most cnnspicuou*.
In the first place, we are bound lo submit our reaeon to
revelation. The more prompt, docile, and complete our sub-
mission to faith, the mote perfect is our obedience to God,
It is very easy, and the tendency his always existed, especially
among untrained minda, to unduly extend this principJc, till
doGJhty and obedience in matters of faith are confused with ft
willingness to accept, without question, anything that ciainu
for itielf respectful recognition in the name of religion- Tbo
mind of the Middle A^es was eminently uncritical, even it»
great theologians and philcjsophers. says Father firisar^ are li>
no way concerned to examine the old legacy of miraculout
£toric£, or any new ones that aro&e; "Their tole care, as a
rulCi la lo find some place even for the most absurd stories *n
their system* without any inquiry u to whether these thing*
ever really happened." Piam tsr crtdtit — It is ptous to be-
lie ve-~becanie 3 guiding maxim of the religious life; and it
bequeathed to subsequent times not alone a misltttude ol ■
wonderful stories, but a bent of mind that has atmoat comi
to bfl considered, in some quarters, an essential feature ol the
truly Cathoiic souIh
With the Renaissance and the Prctestant Reformatiop,
criticism was bom. Hut a condition of wavlarf: arc^fLc in uvhitti
Prot«iflanti«m attacked Catholic principles, nut merely nbuvev.
Hie invocation of the taints, belief In relicj, utd in t^e eon-
tinued eKttlenc4 of miraculous interventions, were all denied.
Ratloaalivm and Iree thought came afterwards to add their force*
to the atuclc. Thii "«Eate of siege" gradually developed in
I
1906.J
THE CHURCH AXD HER SAI?J7S.
48S
the ranks of Caiholicisto a suspicion of aU cndctsra, Ard very
rcAtonably; for particular instances wer« never broL^ght forward
esficept to prove a general conclusion^ The argument always
was J Here is a cuae of delusion or fraud in sflini- worship.
Therefore, saint-worship h — from the devil, said the I'ro^esiant ;
an. absurd superstition, aaid Ibe rationalisL The story of how
thia "state of aiege" contrihufed to exclude legitimate criliciam
from the ground of orthodoxy has been well told by Mr. Wilfrid
W^rd.* Here we need merely repeat the summary of the
f*ct « il is given by Father Grisar: "The duty of attacking
the new principles mide CatholJce consider It almost a point
of honor to defend aU the outwork? of our system, even when
the^ outworks not only in no way touch the essence of our
faith, but even vuhen they are really indefensible- Or, U ihey
cotikd in no way be defended, we were loath to make the breach
ourselves. The same thing happened again at the time of the
emancipation ol philosophy, and of the great Revolution. Tli4
new ideaa drew whole classes of the Catholic world into the
eirde of thifir shallow, but tempting principles— and »o again
il was natural that those who remained true should cUng, not
only to the C^thohc faith, but aUo to the eitccsses which
icemed In belong to it: or, again, that they should not them*
tcWcs work at demolishing such excesses."
But A poiicy which defends, or palliatea religious error, how-
ever UDeiscntial. even though expediency should recommend its
temporary ctnployment) is not congenial, and cannot be a source
of unmixed good, to the Catholic Church, the pillar and the
ground of truth. The Chuich has suJTered from Its adoption
by some of her defenders; and its evil effects are becoming
QtOfe pronounced; while the aspect and conditions of the
•truggU have so materially changed that it is diflicult to see
witat good results are secured by it nt present. Such was the
judgment oF Pope Leo XIII. With the keenness of vision.
broad mindedness. and intrepidity which characterixcd him, he
called upon Catholic scholars to welcome, and avaiJ themselves
of, modern critical methods, in order to purge Church history
of the erroneous elements that only serve to bring our religion
into disrepute.
Scholars, however, who have undertaken to carry out his
laiiruciionSi have encountered much Rtrongly forllTied prcjudic«H
Many have found reason tu make a personal application, in a
* 9>9timr ^d firrtMi (The |U|idtry uf ftmnci Unfiuni Cfirt ft Cu., T^oy
485
The Church and f/Ex S^/xrs.
[J»>i-.
ILtcfAt sense, ol the texl which says that the enemies of a nuin
■ro ttic7«v <*i his o«rn bousebold. There did not «xist. in maity
circki, a proper appreciation of the actual situation. As Father
GrisAr his said; ''There i& still among the pious laity, indeed
among the clei^y, t<>o. cspcciaMy of the Latin racc«. ■
•troag tndiaauoD to let the light of science go out in the twi-
li^t ol the sacriffty." One may, perhaps, aUribute to heredi-
tary Teuloaic aiitT5>4lliicE, this assignmrnl of pre-eminence to
the LaitBt; for the euta^y may be found in a vciy well-defined
fom in northern latitude*- There is, too, frrciuently in evi-
dMe« an snwortliy, tifotd apprebenaivFneELS which seems to ask :
If jnM let critadm enter, where it it to stop? To i matter
wkefv It hu. no lc|^lini«tc application, ultra-conservatives would
npfkly the parable of the wheal and (x^ckle, and advise that
tfvth aad «rroT be left to lioaKih together till the judgment day.
TluA mnl. too. hu — to borrow a phrase from Father DeUhayo
^-cxptT«*ed ittdf in a very lively fashion. In a few paragraphs
pcnonal apology that he pre^xes to his study, ht^ rc&umef
own natpf l*n oci: "Arc you of the opinion that the bio*
rr of a saint has not risen to the level of his task, i>r
that he did not profe« to write history, you are accused of
llpankinf ill of the Mint himself, who, it would seem, U too
pvvtrfifti 14 bat^ permitted him±eH lo be compromised by a
ilnnij' panngyrUt Do you happen to express some doubt
• baft«tiliM Mttaift luirvelt related by the biographer wilhout
pfn^nr gutrtll**'* Ihou^jb ihcy may be very suitable to en-
hMMn the gl^n^ ^ ^^^ taint, you are suspected of want o|
M^ Vouf proct^lurea are called ratconatism in history, jo&t
H Ml In iiuttliont of fact, we should noE, before everything,
VVtlmaU iha wofth of the witnesses," After some lines of
fnMhat i^olMlt he obserre*. in self-defence, that many rea.dcra
Hm nsfJi gu^t^f «vifficienily against a vague prejudice which accorilH
In iha lUbitirapUer ol the saints some superhuman protection
|galu«« tVfur' And elvcwhere he repeats, more than once,
«h«l w« hftrn already heard Father De Smedt say, that outside
iha JkMli^n vj tlo^nih, ecctciia^tiuLl traditions cannot withdraw
lh|l«|l»l««l tmn the bar of historical criticism,
0«^lV *1 uiiv-k^ed view of the situation will prompt anybody
!• aJv^Aiiafa whii( may be called the policy of suppioBtiion.
Wllh t laphl likiifdaao in the numbers of the reading clav^ei,
^hiL avtiV ^^y^ in voclaj Intercourse, la the study-room, the
t»iM»«^tV4kMl, th« puhlic library, in popular editions of hinorical.
t9o6.}
The Cfft/ficir axd mek SA//^rs.
4Z7
sdeatifLc, and philosophic work*, even in the current novel ttrtd
the ddily newspaper, come in contact someEintcs with specific
iji Formation, oflener with &n atmosphere that breeib H di^in-
clioatmn to accept the mirattilnus, except on iinimpeachabTe
evicJcnce^ Jt has become unwise lo intrease unneccE^arily the
burden of faith. For better or worse, the fiia ertdulitas of the
MiddJe A^es ha; disappeared almost comptelely, except amoii^
those who do not read. Inielligeni Catholics are becoming
more estacting [n the mattei of e^■[deltce» bcfoie thc?y believe any-
thing oulside the domfitn of authoTilative doctrine. The tictual
question if. are they to be left to acquire their views from Mr,
White ani hi^ school, or ff^um Father Delahaye and his fellow-
workers? Father De Smedi give& Che historical student an
advice whtch eonuJns golden instruction for everybody who,
Blthcr by voice or pen, haa to answer or anticipate the inquiries
of The Catholic laiEy, on the topics that occupy this paper.
Alter declaring that even when the student Jinds that a dogma
defined by the Charch may appear to be contradicted by the
organs of Christian tradition, he must loyally admit the seem-
inj contradiction, acid patiently wail for further lightn Father
De Smcdt writes:
" Yod may be certain thai by this scientific loyalty, pro^
fetted and practiced, you will do far more goad ta the holy
cauie you wi»b to defend, than by the petty quibbliag of the
special pleader, or by rash statements. Such methods can
pcrauadc only pen^una whom there is no necessity to persuade, or
the simple and the ignorant, who wilt be afterwards at Che mercy
of every Learned unbeliever Ihcy may meet with, and who will
be able to show thtn: the w^flkness oi the answers that were
advanced as peremptory. The refult will be that they will
indignantly and contemptuongly detach themielveB from guides
tfhom they will regard as having conscicusly deceived them,
and Irom a doctrine which they will deem to have been founded
ta falsehood. With one and the satne blow, a man will have
brought contempt on himself and injury on his cause in the
eyes of true scholars, and he will have given further crtdii 10
the prejudice, so false and disastrous, of the JncompatibiliEy of
fcicncv Jind faith/' These considerations will, wc ttusT. dispose
our readers to appreciate the true purport of Father Dslaliaye'*
important votiinie, the gist of which we propose to set before
them.
HER LADYSHIP.
I
»
Wt KATTUmSlt TV NAN.
CHAPTEfi. XIX.
'ADY ANNE waa in London, her principa! reason
for bcirg there was Id see Mary Hyland and
know how things went with her. Fdr this she
bad left Mount Shandon, in ils glory of May.
and her many interests there- Not but what
London was beautiful too tn May, with the glory of new leafage
exqujsiic agmnsi grimy house-fronts, ^wung in lovely g^lan^s
on sooly boughs, against sooly ttec-tfunles, The graas was
ycc vivid green in the parks snd open Bpacca, Lilac, laburnum^
white and pink May, in riotous blosfiom, syringa almoat in-
tolerably sweet- The blackbird singing in suburban roNfIs and
lanes a song that put the nightingale to shame.
She had carried Mary away into the park, not to thoM
charmed spaces where arisiocTacy rides and driv«^ and the
middle and humbler classes slarc and sigh like the Teri with-
out che gatesi but to a lonely place, where the grass strclched
on either side and a few sooty sheep grated on the new
blades. Where they «at under a thorn-tree London was all but
out o[ aight. Even (he tramps preferred less of a solitude
while they si^lected their doss for the night,
*'Ii was very good of your Ladyship to spare the lime/*
«aid Mary m her worshipping voke,
"You see 1 promisrd Mr- Randal that 1 would look after
you, [t grieved him to be disappointed at the last about «e«*
ing yoUi Vou know he had ^iven his last days to yuu. Then
there WAS that horrible hitch about the insurance of the ex-
hibits. He had to fly at a moment's notice."
"I know. He wrote to toll me so."
•'And were you dreadfully disappoinled, Mary?"
Lady Anne's voice was tender. She noticed for the lir*i
time the Ahouldefs that were inclined to stoop and show
Eharp shoulder-bLadeSt the sideways carriage that suggests n
1906,]
HKR LAliVSHiP.
4S9
-^cak apmc> There w«re hollows &t Viasy'i temples And behind
iier pretty cars. Her idealizing eyes looked out of deeper
^ttdowi than when Easr they had mec^
"Sure. 1 knew he had lo do your Ladyship's work."
*' It was a great disappointment to hini. He had !iD looked
forward to being with you."
As she said it she had a little uneasy qualm of conscience.
She hod bt?en franWly tmthlul all her Wic. Atter all, what
proof had »he ol Hugh Kand^rb disappomtment ? He had been
turned at the intelligence about the exhibits. "There goes
my week with Miry/' he had smd, " (or I mtist sa^l Saturday."
But, Cr> be 4ure. he must ha;'e been di^appoLnied- He had not
seen Mary for two months. Was it likely he could leave with-
out grief the girl he wa^ to marry* for the indefinite montbA
during which he would stay in America? Vet he had turned
a[niost at once to the queaiion of Lady Anne's journey- She
must take the Cfdric on the twenty-eighths He had already
engaged her state-cabin. He would meet heron landing; if
p^taible come down the river with the customs ot^cersL Any*
how, fhe WAJE not to think about anything. Hjs thought for
Iwr woiitii he the Magic: Carpet Ihat should wait her easily
Utber and thither as she would.
"Indeed^ he is terribly good to me/* said Miry sweetly.
"No matter how busy he is he'll contrive to send me a lin*."
Lady Anne's eyes kll on the ungloved band lying on Mary's
tap. There was a ring on the third linger, an old ring of
pearla which went all Ihe wfty round the circle. Only Hugh
Randal, In his position, would have choKcn such a ring for his en-
gagement ring. Mary's tinger^ moved it ab^enlly up and down,
" It'a got very Zoaae for me," she said. "I Ihink Ml have
to be leaving \\ ofl or I'll lose it/'
"Why did you get it so large?"
There was a note of alarm in l^ady Anne's voice.
*'lt is that my hngers are getting thm. When Hugh gave
it CO me it Attcd well/'
**Voil must gel fat again* Mary. 1 shall takt you to-morrow
10 see Dr> Sturgis. Auni Mary swe&rs by him. I never had
occavion for doctor* rayBolf/'
'^There's nothing the matter with me, your Ladyship. I
never had much He&h "
"AU the more reason why you should lose none/'
Oa Uie way buck from the park she stopped at a jeweller**
490
HEX I^AUrSMtP.
(Jan,.
shdp and bought a guard nrtg for Miry's vitgag^fn^nt rin|>,
Sh# called at Wolpole Street and mide an appointcneni with Dr»
5turgi» for the next day.
The dfictur pronounced Mary delicate, nothing radically
wrong an far She wa* to have fresh air *nd plenty ol it,
milk, nourtihing food, rest — aa impossible pfescriptlon to many,
but nol to Mary Hyland wjih Lady Anne Chute behind her.
La^ty Anne woictd have earned hei bach to Ireland, but the
%ir\'s obvious distaate for the idea made her giv« it op- Her
own home was. Lady Anne guessed, not a contfortablc o««.
With a stcpmMher and a second (amily to fill it to overflowiri^.
Mrs- Randal was not yet reconciled to the idea of Mary for a
daughter-in-law. Weren't the Randals an old family, althoug^h
they had come down in the world ? And wa.^n't Mary sprung
from the ±mal] farmer class, h-irJLy removed front the jieasarria ?
The more her (oa'e social advancement grew, the k»& did ahe
feel inclined to ^uch a humble mariiagc for hiin- Nothing
would have induced Mary to face the formidable, soft-spokea,
iweet-looking Mrs. Randal, who had the obstinacy often pct-
scssed by such pnoplc — above all. without Hugh's ci>untenance,
without the countenance of her Ladyship,
"Then you must have country air," Lady Anne said, and
proceeded to discover a Middlesex farmhouse, amid ficldi from
which the la.rk« ro^e in a tangle of songs and Kofi, palpitating
bodLca- HaZi a doxen hflds shielded il from ihe last outpoBi*
of the great town. It wa« delightfully runlc^ The gabled,
red-roofed house hidden in creepers wa» three hundred y<Aj^
nld. In the sunny garden, with its dial ^nd \hn box borders,
aromatic in the £un. one might forget that London lay only a
few fields away, and presently would devour the qu;et and
peaceful place.
"Yon are to lodge here rill V come back," Aaid Lady Anne
She liked the farmer's wife, a motherly looking woman.
She had inspected the clean, a weet smelling bedroomF, with
their snowy beds and bowls ol wallflowers and lilac She bad
been »hown the cool, fragrant dairy, with the crocks standing
on well- scrubbed shelves, full of creaniy milk. She had par<
taken of an excellent plain meal, had eaten the brown eggv
and praised the hcime-made bread and ibc gotden butter.
"You dtc to live here ail the summer," she aaid to Mary.
'* T can trust Mrs. Weston 10 look alter you. When 1 come
back 1 will take you to the mountains or the vea*"
i9o6.]
HEit LADYsmr*.
49"
"Ah, your Ladyship f " cried Mary, with a rush of teara
to her eyes. "Vou arc too good to me, far, far Coo good.*'
She had jjle^Lded piteously to be allowed still to retain the
reins of gov<?rntn<!nt at South Audley Street, had been so eager
About it that at last Lady Anne had yielded,
'*Vou mtiM g9 only for a little while, and not every day,"
she said, "J will lalk to Mrs- We&ton abciut it. The pony-
irap can Cake you to the station and back again^ You are not
to cxhaun yourself,"
She used artifices to tempt Mary to the IsKy life, laying in
a great stock o£ novels^ — when could Mary resist novels? —
ordering a prodigal supply of new music and senlimcEilal £oiig«
for her. There wae a piano in Mrs. Weston's dim parlor, and
she had diacovered that Mary loved to atrum to herself, and
had a sweet little pipe like a robin's (or the drawine-room
aongs that could move her lo tears.
She exacted from Mrs, Weston a promise that she would
restrain her boarder from going to town on the very hot days,
or when she seemed tire;! j-nJ unfit for the journey.
She had done all that even she could do when she turned
her bock on the Middlesex farmhouse and Mary's adoring eyes,
which thanked her lite the eyes of a loving dog.
She ought to have been satisfied with her own conduct.
Not one woman in ten thousand would have acted as gracious-
ly ati<i generously as she had done lo a dependant- But *he
WBA ill at cniie. Her mi£]^ivmgs brought her back To say a
Meond farewell to Mary when she ought to have been on her
way to Ireland.
She found her-~-it waE; a Saturday afternoon— 'in the gar*
den with the box borders, deep in a novel. Already ihc sun-
thlny peace Keeioed to have broug^ht a color to her cheek.
Lady Anne remembered huw wonderfully she had picked up
at the Court last summer- She was ao responsive; y^^, that
WIS the word for her, so responsive to everything that wai
dciric for her-
Thc joy rushed to Mary's face at sight of her^ planting
trAdsitory rosea in her cheeks, making of her eyes aitar-Ares.
'*I thought 1 muft see you once again, Mary," t^dy Anne
said, Btttin^; down beside her on the seat cut in the privet
hedge. The privet just coming into bloom smelt deliciouily.
A ftiot away wa>j a gray-green bush of Saulbernwood with iti
homely fragrflnce- The bees buffed in ihe privet; the black
493
H£^ LADYSmP.
[Jm,,
rr(riever that belonged to the Westons lay in the >un on th«
gravd path, hU head on a fold of Mary's gown.
"I thought I iiiufit fice you/^ Lady Acine went on, *' and
1 am glad I c^^me. T r^n tril Mr. Randal hour pkaiaant your
«urroundLng5 are a.nd he will be gUd,"
"I've written to bim all about U- Biit your Ladyship can
tdl him bc«cr/"
Mrft- Weston came out courtcsymg and smiling, and t<X a
little table for their ica^ Lady Ann* had captivated her heart
eaatly, and the good woman was delighted and bewildered at
corning in contact with a member of the aristocracy.
"You lind it all very sweet, Mafy r"
"iiOvsly, Just across the first &eld there'« a Uttle nvood--
If you'll believe me, Lady Anne, it's as blue a^ the sky veith
blue-bdb/*
"Ah, you will show them to me prcsantl/."
"The farm's a very pleasant place," Mary went on, with
an air of dreamy content, "There are lltde cftlvei and Umbt
and a foal aad a donkey that's the prettiest of any^ And tbe
huXAs are full of little pigs rooting about for ]a«t year's acornii,
1 hdp Mr^. Wefton to feed the catvesn Ei'e lovely to f«el tbe
Little rough tongues moving over your hand. I wa« aJwaya
one for young Ihingg/^
Lady Anne had a revelation. She knew now why the h«d
Coai«. She saw ^t in a vision the home that Mary should
have had bel^ire now. the child that thoutd have been in her
arms. If ahc had never met Hugh Randal the marriage would
have been done two years ago. Was it she, Anne ChutCi that
was keeping the hearth cold, the husband from the wife, the
child from the mother 7 Hor interests, to be sure, u'cre not
her own, not only her own, but other people'*. And yet— ^
and yet^-ought anything to postpone the buIHIng of the
Temple ?
She leant to Mary hurriedly.
"Before I sail, your house is to be put in hands," she laid,
"It witi be ready for you when the exhibition H over It is
to be my gift to you ^nd your husbaudr In the autumn you
must take possession of it You will find it furnished from
lop to bottom, with juat the necessary thin£^. You and he
together will adorn it with the things that come through yc^rs
of happy life together/'
ipodu]
IfKfi Ladyship.
*'0h, your Ladyship!" cried Mary overwhelmed. "But
perhaps Hugh will not be ready."
** He has always been ready. It is my work that has hin-
dered. He will do jt The better for his anchorage o( heme,
ihc borne that he will always have to return to wiih joy "'
She bad a liftiag of the heart a£ she always had In making
other people happy. What she was doin^ now was iw her
own mint' a reparation, too. Ida had been right with her sharp
speeches- She ought to have realjzed sooner, Butnowcvery^
iMng was going \q be welL Mary would grow strong, and
the autumn would see thoge two, who were devoted to her,
happy in a home oT her building. They would rise up an<)
c^l her blessed. Her L;idyship laved the praise of her woHd-
And with that lifring of the heart there was no misgiving, no
doubt that Hugh Randal had always been ready lor the hap»
pjness she had ignoiantly and scltishly postponed.
Then there was Mrs. Weston coming along llie path, with
her beat china set out on a tray, with tea and cream and but-
ter and honey that were ^ fragrant as the flowery of iho
privet-
^' Vou have ni&d« me so happy/* sighed Mary,
L&dy Anne had made herself happy. For the momeni the
home, the happiness which bad yet to be made, were real
things to her, already achieved Already her quick mind was
planning cut the house. It was to be a pictureique place,
which should adorn the little knoll by the lake side on which
it would be built. She imagined the rooms and the furniture.
There was an intelligent man In a big Dublin furniture shop
whom she could tru&t to carry out her idear;. The house was
to have its garden and grounds. She sent a sigh to ihe im-
pufesibiliiy of a bosc-bordered garden like this, an orchard like
that over yonder, with pink snow on its little, low, wide-
spreading boughs. Even she coutd not wrebt such as these
from time, the only maker of such ' sweetnesses. At the top
of the house there should be a wide, airy room, left empty,
lo tic furnihhed in time for a nursery,
Never hiid she derived so much plaaure from her own be*
neltcence. I( was good, it was good, she thought, to be able
BO to ord«r human destinies.
494
Her LADYsmp,
[J«»-
Chapticr XX.
A NEAR THWO,
Lord Duntaverock was not able, After til, lo ^ccoiopany hi£
cQUA^n In Am«nGA, BusineRs detained binii ihe bu^mcsA of hJi
patent, «H he mentioned casually tf> Colonel Leonard.
"Anne will do very wdl," he said- 'Mcann^t imagine any
carcumsUQccfi in which Anne would noi be able to take care
of heraelfi And Randal will meet her at New York. Randal
will have everything ready for her."
" I bad hoped that you would have gone/' Colonel Leonard
•aid stLliiy. ''It «eems to me unbecoming that Lady Anne
Chute should be wandering about Americana eoimUy \ detCBt
— wiLh aa old w^man a^d ^ maid. Kef iatber would not have
liked it/"
"Anne will be all right," Dunlaverock repeated; he »id to
bfmaeH that Leonard waa an ancient fossil. *' Anne will be a|!
right- 1 shall gu tu fetch her homcn My buainetm will ba set^
lied long before that, \ expect/'
" His business! IU$ husmew!" Cotonel Leonard >ald Iratc^
\<f. repeating this conver^alioo to bis wife, *' U Anne Ura'1
tiJS businesa she ought Eo be. A lovely gtrl hke Anne- He
deserves lo lose her ior his cold h blooded nets.."
He came oa Anne a day i>r two later, on the fOiid whJc^
ran close to Mount Sbantlon. She was driving hersGll in hmt
neat little dog-cart, and was standing up, watching the work-
men who were digging out the loucdations of the houAc that
was lo be Hugh Randal's, wh[Ic Kitty, enjoying the slack rein,
n bblcd away at ihc 9we?t May grasa by the side of the road-
t" WhaCf more building, Anne?" he said, reining up beside
ner. "What on earth are they doing there?"
Lady Anne sal down and smiled al hi;n while gathering
up Kitty's reint.
"That Is Mr Randal's house, Uncle Hugh," she said.
"He is to be married in the autumn/'
" Ahl" The CoLonel breathed a quiet, long sigh- He had
not even known that Hugh Randal was engaged. Ah, that
was belter, mucb belter! He could endure Hugh Raudal,
the married man, in Mount Shandon drawing-room, where be
bad found it hard to endure Hugh Randal unatiaehed, wlih
I906.]
fiEU LADYSHtP,
4gs
his manner thac never apologised lor his pfcsence tb&rr. or
was conscious of hts ama^mg elevation. Hugh Randal who
might have passed for anybody, as the Colonel acknowledged
to hiin^elf now in the fullness M his rdief-
"I had no idea he was going to be married," he said,
with a return to hia old genid, fatherly manner. For quite a
long tjjne now itiere had been a cloud between him and
Anne.
"I hope be U going to marry some one worthy of him.
Ke «er*in; a young man of uncommon ability."
" Mt is. I am glad you do hlmjustJce. Uncle Hugh. You
u«ed not to like him," Anne, with her terrible frankness, was
not one to let keeping dogs lie. "He is to marry a chaim-
ing creature. LTp to this she has had charge of my South
AudUy Street shop/'
*'And you are buUding them a house?"
"It ia to be my gift to them, 1 am furnishing it as well."
For once the Colonel did not feel like chiding Anne For
har extra^jgttnce- It was onty later oo he remembered to call
the gift a disproportionate one. Again, in the plenitude of
hi> relief, hU tongue ran away with him.
*' Vour generosity becomes you, my dear Anne," he said.
"Mr, Randal i« a valuable iservtint-'*
She would not let (he word pass with him.
"In the sense that wc are all servatits/' she saidn "That
i% the univcTJiat law, is it not. Uncle Hugh? We who are in
high fttations must be the servants of God. if we «re not to
be the KrvdntA of the devil/'
*" Ah, veiy true, very true/'
The Colonel missed the magnificence of Lady Anne lifting
bef proud, humble, young face a momer^t towards the sky. It
W44 a mood in which he did not follow Annci He was mor«
accu»omcd to her in her dominant mood, and he wa« shy of
any talk about hl£ Creator, although he was an excellent,
church- going person.
A week later l.ady Anne was on the ocean, and makinif
■omething of a siir among her feUow-passcngcrs on the Odric
by her pretence there.
She found few to inteTeat her among the saloon paasenger*
<» the big boat, but after a day or two, the captain himself
Introduced her to some of the steerage passengers, who had
49*
HzK LADismr.
(J
»Jk.
left behind ihem the sunny, green glenSf ih* encircling mouTi-
tains, the kindly neighbors, the peace and innocence and
safety, for — they knew not what in the dtic^ df America.
There had been a general agreement anion;; the saloon pas-
sengers that Lady Anne was proud, which was only to tay
that none of them had micrested her. They would not have
thought her proud U they had seen her in the »teerage< where
the captain LJatened smiting, vwhilc she drew this and that one'*
simple history Jrom lips not easily unlocked, and rated them
gently because they had been ao ready to go.
*■ If you wiU stay in Amerka," she said, "do not remain I
m the towns. Push your way out into the country. Make "
homes there- But if you will return* get your priest, or eoxne
one who is interested in you, to write to me — Lady Anne
Chute, Mount Shandon, Co. Kerry — and I wilt help you |o
gel home,"
Her rating had the excellent c5ect on one emigrant, ft
fair-hatred girl whose fact horc traces of recent suffering, that
4he broke down, remembering the old mother she had left. _
Her lover had deserted her for a Hchei- gIrJ, and Nannie would I
not stay to meet the pity of somei the amuBemrnt of oiheni.
She would put the ocean between her and Killorglin, But
after she had broken down, and sobbed and wrestled with
her^lf in a corner of the steerage, she met Lady Anne with a
bright face-
"Sure I'm done with him/' she )aid, "clean done with
him, I've only pity foi him an" her. An' I'd break my heart
in America thlnkin* o' the mother's little face. Send me home,
your Ladyship, an' God bless you, an' I'll never wish myself
out o" it again as long as t live."
So when the other passenger? Unded, Nannie was left be-
hind to go back with the Cfiirii. to bring bewildering joy to
the mother who had never looked to sec her child again.
Hugh ECand^l came down to meet the bo^t with a com>
pany of newspaper men who had come to interview somebody
or other on board. The fame of Lady Anne and her philan-
thropy had preceded her to America, and some of ihe ficwa-
paper men were very anKious to karn how she liked her first
trip acroas the Atlantic, what were her impressions of Sandy
Hook, whether she was lo be entertained by the Four Hun-
dred, what goivni ^he had brought with her, bow long she
\
I90fi0
ittJP LADYSmr.
497
LQtcnded to stay, her views on Woman SurTragc and the
Uivorce Question, and so on.
If she had been alane she would huve hud to lock hErsclf
in her state-room till the moment came for her to land. As
it was, she had n-j dilGculiy, for Hjgh Randal got rid of the
LcflQ, clean-shaven men with ihe notebooks, easily and pleas-
antly.
"Her Ladyship Is tired now," he said. "I am her Eccr«-
tiry. We shall be lor a few days at the Waldorf- Astoria,
and T shall be free from 12 noon to 1, 10 answer all ques-
tJons,"
This business-lilte way appealed to the presB-men, to whom
eirasion would have been hut an inceoiive, and they le(t Lady
Aone in peace to enjoy her first sight of New York with it*
trrc^Lilar budding; silhoiretted against a brilliant gky.
He made everything easy for the travelers. SutclifFc bad
been ill all the way and would have been unequal to dealing
with the luggage^ even if she had not been unfaniiliar with
American ways. Miss 'Stasia w^ a little tired and bewildered
by the new cKpeHcoceH Only her Ladyithip* with all hef ae«t
for Adventure ttill unslalred [n her, watched with bright, inter-
ested eyea the scene of bustle and tfurry into which they ar-
riv«d.
Her only p rotes; t was against the too great luxury of every-
ihini; From the C^iric to the Waldorf-Astoria was a step
from a floating palace to one tethered to earth-
"1 thoui^ht you had better rcbt a day or two before going
on/' Hugh Randal said, whea they wcte being driven to the
hoieL
"I hava done nothing but reit since I left/* Lady Anne
laughed. "But I shall stay a day or two to see Che sights of.
N«w Y/>rk. Cousin Anasta&ia loves shops. I believe you have
■ome beautiful oiiea here."
As «he was ushered tnto h«r silk-lined sitting-room at Ihe
hotel, which was like a bonbonnifrc, she turned to Hugh Ran-
dal with a delighted air.
" ViolcU,'" she said.
Ye>; »hc had smelt violets. The room was full of them> In
pots and vaicG and bowh ^nd ba«kelft, Thvy brought some'
thing clean and sweet and of the earth into Ihe over-luxurious
room.
VOL. L.XX31II.— J)
" li Lt the manageiEient? " sbe aakcd delightedly, Inhaling
ic itcQi wJch delicate nofitrib- " How very charming of ihrrn 1 "
He smiled deprecAtingly At her, his hand lonching the door-
handle,
" It was not the management this lime,'* he Sftid. "It waa
-^I thought you would like aome flowers,"
" How good of yotj I " She did not repfooct him for tbe
extravagance of his rccepEton at her, though Jihr felt ihat it
mj« have cost him a great deal of motjey. '* I love them.
But— are you going? I am quUe prepared after lunch lo take
B walk down Broadway/'
"I fchall be ready to attend on you. Lady Arine ; but'— 1
am >Uying[ at a tittle place some blocks away. I shall b« back
by the time you have finished lunch/'
*' Vou wil! lunch with us!"
He was perauaded to sit to Che tuxnrious tunch- For the
next few days hts escon of her Ladyship wan no «£n«curv.
She in5i&tc<d on seeing everything that was to be acen. Not
fashionable Mew York alone, but the Dowery, the poor p<aftl
of the town. Coney Island and the hauuls beloved of trippers,
Tammany HaU^her appetite grew by what it fed on. Away
from her environment she seemed to for^'ct thut the was Lady
Anne Chute, who h^ been lupposcd to be hemmed in from
childhooii by rcEitrictions proper to her state. A certain wild*
ne^ came out in her which was new and delightful. Her
energy was insatiable. While MJss 'Susia, with SutcUfTe in at-
tendance, gaj^ed in at the plate-glass windows of the splendid
shops, her Ladyship was exploring even the purlieua of New
York, places in which (he companionship of a couple of burly
policemen in plain clothes W4S a desirable thing.
She woLild have her way about auch expeditioRE, yet once
or twice, when Hugh Randal was firtn In refusing, she yielded
to him wkh a bewitching sweetness,
'* Vuu ought to pack me straight home/* she said on ont
of those occasions, when she h^d had her own way and vi
aware of the frown thai made a furrow between her faithfi
guardian'^ eyebrows.
•• Never mind,** he said. " We are going on to Washingl
^-morrow^ You won't want to repeat this? One Amer»
_t.hc same i\s another, unless one gets to Clii
I906.]
Jf£X LADYSmP.
499
"I wii] obcj' you impJicitl)' for the fulurt;/* she said, with
ui enchaining humility.
This was a now Anne. The old Anno had been many
things, but she had not been waywatd, perverse, wild, sweet,
Appealing. The old Anne's lov^ers would not have knawa her
under this aspect; but perhaps tt would not have existed (or
Ehcm, Since she kept it for Hugh Randal rhcre was none to
wonder about it.
" 1 am glad to hear it," he said, trying to look severe but
ftiling hopelessly, '* If I had only known^*'
"Vou would have left me at home?"
'* \ believe 1 shouLd, or at least 1 should not have been so
ready to accept your guardianship- If there was to be much
more of it T should cable to Lord Dunlaverock/'
"To come and take care of me ?"
They wer<? down by the riverside, amid a wilderness of
wharveig and doclcE and basina, and had taken refuge from a
ludden sharp shower under the open lower story of a (all
building, Scurrying into it, under cover of an umbrella, wilh
which he waa trying to protect Lady Anne, Randal had n<it
noticed that far up on the outside ol the building swung a
i»Teai crane; perhaps he was bewildered, too, by Lady Anne,
who had snatched at his hand and run like a child, laughing
And sparkling, with the wet sweetnesG of the rain on her hair
;ind cheeks.
As she spoke she stepped out of the buElding.
"There is a rift in the douda," she faid. "The rain is
leaving off; 1 think we may go."
At the moment there wa» a rattle of chains, a creaking of
machinery. Something fell from above with a iremendou£ Im-
peiu*. Re was ou\y just in lime. He had caught her in his
arms and dragged her ag'ainflt the wall of their shelter. For
the moment he did not reUnquUh \iH hold. For a moment she
clung to him.
"My God!" he said in a low voice, "My God!"
'^Yes"; ahe said, withdrawing herself fiom his arm, and
fmiling unsteadily, "it was a narrow thing, wasn't it^" The
crane was swinging now almott level with their heads. "Com*
iag down like that it would have just caught me; look at the
hook ! What do you suppose tt weighs ? 1 shouldn't have had
much chance."
soo
Her Ladysh/p.
[.
•*Hush!" he said roughly. '"I wish I had \h< m«a wbo
kt tt down like thai!" Hi* hands worked. "I feci like Wil-
ing him."
'* Never mind/' she said soothingly, "He couldn't have
known there was Anybody hencath, I dare say he never meant
to let it out *o ust. Why, how pale you are!" She noticed
with some wonder that he was trfimWing- *" Let us ^Q. I
shan't ask you in take mt! tu the dockv again."
His color did not come back. When they had found a
hackney coach and were driving to the hotel she tried to make
him forget the fright she had given him. But by this tin^e in
the reaction from hl» fear he was angry — angry wJih her^
" \ Ehalt be wiser for the future/' he said. " t was a weak
fool to yield to you. Lady Anne. Von have been in danger
throuyb my fault and the fault of your own wilfulness. If one
hair of your precious head bad been hurt — "
Kc stopped as though he could noE go on^ The situations
were reversed, Tt was he who spoke with authority: she who
Wis humble and submissive- He could not long reskt her.^
Hl$ angfrr passed away, He had spoken to her coldly, but the
cotdnesi had melted to «udden tenderness.
" 1 ghali jicvci forget that you saved my life/' she said
softly.
"] want to forget ii/* he answered grimly, "Saved your
life! Why, I put it in danger. To draw you back was noth-
ing; atiyliody would have done that/'
She did not pres^ the point. She could look From the man's
side of it and h&le the heroics of talk about saving life. Still
he had saved hers. Her indebtedness was none the less great
because they were not going to talk about it,
'' D^ar me!" said MUs Anastasia to herself that evenings &&
she wauhed Anne sitting at the Sch^tdmayer grand, singing
over to herself '' Come live with me and be my Love." Anne _
was no great performer, but* as her governesses had found out \
long a^'O, whAt she Eiked &hc learned, and &he did no injustice
to the delightful mu^ic and words, "' Dear me, what has hap-
pened to Anne? If it wa» cot Aone, I should say she was a
girl in love/'
But then Miss Anastasia was given to sentimental fancies.
(TO UK CONTINUBD.)
I
OS THE MASSACRES m TURKEY.
I.
How loag, O sluLnbcniig <:oaacieiice of the world,
Wrapl in ihy drcims of empire and of gold.
Hfiw long shall this drcod talc of blood be told,
While fli! the baudtry of Itiy wrath are furlM f
How long to heat-en sbull the cry be burl'd
Of &IaugbL«red bob^^ — the Cratliiigtt ot the fold —
Wilb nameletii shames and Eerroni miulfoldi
And amoktr of col jnd temple upward curl'd ?
Has greed of gatn and power thu± shackled tbcc.
Coo^Pietice of luan, vain of thy free conirol*
AtuI boHstfnl nf the ceuturies* starward flight *
What Hhall the judguienl of tlie Lord God be
WbcD h« shall charge Ihee with thy brother's sotU'
Shalt thou be number'd on ihe left or ri^ht ?
O, strange, gray world, 0. world half aoul, hall brute F
World wllb the prayer ol saimhood on Iby lowK^fi-
WorlJ where the aotig of AHgd* has hcvn uiv^^-
Yet mute, dumb world, with all th« demons mnte [
l^ud-voiced enough thy boaMiugs vain to suit:
ItfOud'VoIcird enough when C-h^ry's ehimeA aie riin}r,
When Fume's nbryod. und victorflBgs are flutjg^
The»c are thy blo&souifi and thy chosen fruitn
V<ti tliink'st thou not, gray world, with all thy power,
With all thy irumpetiiign of old pretence,
Thai thoti to Mercy cwest-^a momeni'i span?
I tell (hvc that thou yet sliah see ihe hour:
An boiir ol dread : an hour ol recoinpeiisc ;
And that stem ho^r vball know the lightA of Man
THE 8EST0RATI0S OF PLAIX-CHANT.
NOW cooic to the most difficult paiC of the sub-
j«ec the taterptetation of chAnt, We amy ftas-
MM fine books, correct noEalron, and singer*
«ith good voi-Ks: but, if there be no way of
ftsiliaG ovt how to sing chant, we mi^lit ju£t as
tt tatitely. In chani there are, as every one „
L«sic And wordt. Which of these is of the greater |
> Two rsle» bavv been givea for our guid^oce,
vt btre tried to be faithful ; ^'Stng as you
-Tbe »xt U the Master ; the notes the Servant."
^ ftiift<»OBBl v« employ the Latin Iftni^uage. Every scho^jtr
^g^ vKC tb4t tv9 tbisgft tuusX be reckoned with in pronounc*
i^ lAtia; *<^^ aeeeat utd quantity. Quantity means essen-
yulty imnfi^i f/ fiwr rfiriTtmri iii pronouncing the syllable; 40
^Y» n ilwf* U a note 10 a syllable* there muiit be long and
^kM% «o<v« >^ corteipond to the long and ihort quantities of
tli« «yU«bl«>b So^mes telU u&: "The notes oi a Plaic-Chjint
M^il *1^ *r^ V*^}^ '"^ duration." "The shapes ai notes ha^
th^hlMiC ^"^ ^^ ^^^'^ ^^^''' duration: neither the dian^ond shaped
ttt^« MMf Itif tU'Callfd omaniencal notes indicate a ahofter
dui^ltMl^ **AU notM of Plain-Chant are approximately of
"'I'd^ \^t^\ w«A>l be Bung very evcnfy. the Accented syllables
bttnjfi 4^«t11t^«i»h«d frOBD tbe unaccented syliablps by the stm-
^* »ti««t wJ tbe voiM l^d i»^ *> /A«> ItHgth" (HoHy), |
< l>4tts )o I'ialn-Cbvtt les ooIcg n'y sont pas toutes Agates
yutL* *iH»* Au tv*/«»>ir. ellcs ont utt€ grandt vari^U d/t 'j^tltur^
J 4j.t#» |'iWi«*«Unc« quelle* ont dans la structure mi^lodique,
U t''*'* ^U'«H«« cHCupent dans U figure nnumatique ou le t^t
^n tfllif* r«in|d^>>«ni tUnt la diclJon du texte"' (Dom Kienle).
' \ «4 xw-X^ umplM, cnnoie nous Tavons dit plue haut, oat
mWu (v<»W» IUt4tl^U De ce que cettc note a tgujours U
,1 A% i^<*». II n> '*«* P** *" cooclure qu'cik doit toujour*
k
1906.] The RESTORATW^i OF plain-Chant. 503
avoir la m^mc valeur. La valeur dc la note simple est ait
coatrftiie irst variahh" (Dom Pothier),
The last nftroed writer adds thai the value of the notes ta
determined by the correct readmg of the Luid tCKt. for irhich
he has given rules in the previous chapter.
Which of these rules is c<irrtci, the rule of Birkle or of
Kienlc, of Holly or of Dom Pothicr? It ii manifestly impos-
dble to ting a syllabic chant in notes of the same kenglh» and
siill keep to H. correct pronmici^iHon of the text- Jf we are to
observe quantity, we must have longer and shorter syllables,
and thetcfoffi longer and shorter notes. Any one wishing tt>
test the truth of these rematlca may tnlfe a metronome set at, say,^
136 or faster, and recite In monotone the Pater Noner or the
Credo* making the syllables conform exactly to the ticking of
the tn&Irunicnt; and if hi? be satisfied that he has given a deliv-
ery of the text correct in all p3.rticulars — Mn^-uistieally, devotion-
ally, and musically — he will of ccurse accept the Solesmes dictum
"all notes are of the same length/' find ;1 he be not so satis.
fied he will certainly reject that dictum.
After all, this rule of "all notes are the same length*' ia
the result of a misapprehension of a rule of Piain-Chant that
'*ihe shape of a note does not ncccasariiy determine its length,"
Between this rule and the other there U a vast dlfTercnce.
In the treatment of neoms, for example, we are told that
the fin! note is always accented, in other words, that the
shaft &f ike HoU £roufii determine^ the accentuation of the
melody- Let us Lalee one of the simplest chantfl in which nc«
urns occur:
d d r d d t.d d ||
Ikus im ttdjuturiufff ftteum iiilendt
Thifi chant is practically a monotone with two notes added,
one above and one below the reciting note- The purpose of
^e added notes H to give a peculiar emphasis to (he sylla-
to which they arc set, and to convert the monotone into
a mvlody. They serve, thciefore, two distinct purposes- It is
a well-known rule in music that the introduction of any sound
forei|£n to the scale in which we are performing, denotes a
special purpose: that is to say, its of^ce i& to give a special
melodic or harmonic cofatin^ to the passage. Such a found ia
called ckr^maiic, and It must be accented, even though It occur
504
The RESTORATiON OF Plain-Chant.
u^
N
¥
oa 'h unaccented beat of the measure. In :be abo%'c cjumpi*
ihe notes re lad ti are iatrodiiced into the monotone tn order to
conreft the monotone into a sielody. Therefore, th^f mMSt be
accented. It follow? that the ocvn ^ r oa adju^rium must b«
accented oa the ut^md note, re, attd that in ta/#ttd« /, 4/ most
be accented on the first t,-
There ii a mcsieal reas^o for thU manner ol accenting iJm
paasoge; and that is, the law of the natural progression of
^ouadf, whieh is older than chant, ind 10 the observance of
which arc due the different cfTcctB produced by major and
mioor mode» aod the character which belongs lo each of the
Gn^oriuk modes. If we arc to adhere to the mtekani^^t rule
of accenting the £r4t note of cftch ncum, especially in chanta
which are composed principally of theia, we will violate thi»
oatvrat mssical Law, and consequently destroy the characler ol
the iDodcs and the melodies ibemselvcs.
With regard to neums tbemfelves, af I said in the earlier
part of thU paper, they were not conceived as being made up
of £epiraie notes, but were regarrfrd at twists and turns on
one note. These musical (iguret were gridualJy incorporated
into the melodies; for we know that the earlier chants were
comparativeEy free tfgm ihcm, and that in course of time their
use becftm* an abuse.
Some instances may illustrate the growth of the netim,
Moore'* mdodies, as written, are simple tunes; but. as sung
by many an Irishman, they arc very different^ The singer ic-
trotltice^ twists here, turns there, and ttemolos at another place.
AH of UK have oFleo heard them. What are these additional
twists And turns but ncums ? h is more than likely that nc-
ums in PJaiu'Cha&t had their origin in a similar manner. In
confirmAtion of this view, let us review, for example. Webbe'a
Tantum V,Tgo in F, both ai it appear! in the original and io
Lit Uanaformfld ahape In the Liber UsuaLls. (The original is
the upper line.)
r m d
r rm rd
f m f
t ms sf
m
m
9 f m
s sf m
m r d d-
m r d d
Tdfiiiim ff'^o sa - era -mfN turn vt-n^-re-rNtit ffr-ntii
d' t d' s I Is f in I L t d* t | tl- s »-
d' t d' G I i 5 si m I I t d' t I rl s«
ttaa-ii-jnum do ctt-men turn nttvp eedat ri-Uti
I906.]
The Restoration of Plain-Cmant.
S<>S
r m f
fiTt r-(i d-
mr d d
prasUi fi^dts iupplimitttum tttiiu um de^ fte - tu-i
The accentuation of the first note? of th? nounip as th^y
occur in this tune, would give us. In the fint measure, two
false lUu&icaJ accents; tn the seconii, one; in th« ({lird^onej Ln
the sixth, one ; in The ninth, one : in the tenth, on* ; and the last
two bars would be alcogetbcr wrong,
In Dom Pnlbier's work, Lts Met&din GregcrienttfS, chapter
xti,, page \6i. we read: "'Plures chorda; sonant dum una
nota proEenur/ Four cux, te podatus est une note, la cLtvis
tane note, Ic torculu^, le porrecius chacun une note."
As each at these neums consists of twa or three notes, what
are we to understand by thcie directions? It is contrary to com-
mon sense to tcLI us to %\n^ two or three notes as one note. Let
us, howeveT^makc a cofnpurison with modem music. In teaching
tnodcrn music the quarter rote, or crotchet, is generally re-
garded as the unit; thus we say that a half note, or minim,
is two beats in length, etc, etc. The value of the smaller (lotes
U estimated with reference to the quarter note or erotchel. If
an instruction book on modern music directed us to sing Iwo
eighth notes ^f> one not<?, fouf &ixteenth& a^ one note, the direc-
tion would not be very explicit: but it would be <iijito as ex*
plictl as these directions given for singing Gregorian noie£ :
"All the Bame length"; '* Approrimatity the same length " ;
"Do not differ in value"; "DirTer greatly in value"; "Their
va1u« is vtfy variable/' The only conclusion whkh we could
draw, would be that we must sing the two eighths or four six-
teenths in the time required for one note, and that is the quar-
ter note- In like manner we may interpret the directions for
iinging the n^ums, "the podatus is one note," etc, to mean
that each neum should take approximately the lime required
for a tingle note appropriate to the syllable to which it is «er.
Why were the neunis ^iven such fanciful names If Uiey were
not supposed to supply mental pictures, and help Che singer to
remember bow they were to be sung?
Tike the tonulus (the wine-press), for instance, three notes,
lAc middle one higher than the two extreme^; the higher mid.
41e note representing the screw and the side uoiea the bearings.
Do wc not apply power to the screw, and should we not accent
J
sod
The RE5TOHA710N OF PLAlN*CtfANT.
[J40.,
Ihc middle note and leave the tfiX unaccented ? The f^rtetus \
Why the heavy , oblique line made by dragging the pen along
the paper, if nol lo show thai the porrectus should be "draiwii
out/' or lung slower, as ii^ name implies? The icandicus md
tha clima£Ht remind ue of climbing upstairs and of running
down; we naturally rest when we get to the top and eome
down faster than we went up, What is more natural than that
we should Test upon the last note of the icandicus and nn the
firft note of the chmacus? If one woutd sing* for example, th^
AHeluia, "Tu « Sacerdos," page 5S9. and Alleluia " fJic est,"
393t Liber Usuali^, i^tsi makinj^ the notes cijual in length and
accenting)' Ihe first note of «ach ncum, and would afterwards
»ng chem in the manner I have indicated above, he would
9MM\\y »ee which is the beiicr method for expressing ihe sense
and beauty of the melodies,
I will now endeavor to show why the slavish adherence to
thia rule cf accenlini; the ^x%i note of eath neum may de&trojr
tbo tonality or the mode, and consccjuently the <:haiit rtself^
Gregorian music has eight scales, each of which is different
from the others. The sounds of these toales are used in a cer-
tain definite manner called the mod^. The words ici>U, m&J^^
tfiiH, and kt^^ seem to be inextrkably mixed up in the minds
of many Gregorian authorities: "A mtrde ia a scalt"; "The
pofltioo of the semi-tones is not the only thing which dis-
tlnguCthcA one tffie from another"; " A melody in ihe scah of
i^ dlJferi peculiarly from one in the kty of mi, /a, etc/'
Thv acali* ctn be readily understood by r«Ferring to ibe
abav* diaifradl, on which the marks for the hours represent
Milil-lori««. The notes ti and da^ and irii and /jr, are a ^mi^ I
trina afiart; alt the others, a whole tone- If we take de for
niM lUrliiiii pnint, we have the notes used in the major mode,
mid if w« mM^e Ai our starting point, we have the notes of
r906.]
The Restoration of Plajn-Oiast.
507
the minor mode. Each of the Gregorian scaler i^ formed by
caking a diffcrenl note for a starting pcint H one wiBhcfi to
compose music in the major mode, he muit fulAl certain condi-
tions. He must compose in acn^r-dance wiCk tht natural habits of
ikt tona &/ ski st^iir, i.t-, the first, third, and hiih of Ihe scale
mitst be made the principal sounds of Ihc piece Neither of
these sounds necessinly JmpUc} progression; that is to a&y, wc
may ascend or descend from them with ci^ual ease. With ihc
other sound* of the scale the case is quite different. The sec-
ond, fourth, and sixth of the scale have an unmiftakable tendency
&o falJ to the first, third, and lifth respectively, and the seventh
has a like tendency to rise to the t:ighthp This tendency of
the seventh to rise is so marked that it is Calkd the Uadirt^ rmr.
In composing ri&tng pa^^agec the first, third, and fifth note*
v/ill be prominent notes, and therefore more likely la be ac-
<:«nted ; while In descending passages the second, fourth, and
sixth will be accented en account of their falling tendencyj
which is more dearly brought out by accentuation.
These rules apply more particularly to melodies composed
io fEepa, of which the Tanlum ergo (Webbe's in F, befor«
mentioned) is a good example. It witl be noticed how r, l,
dind \ fall to d, m. and s; and how. In doing %o. they take
the aceent- There are nine skipa in the tune, of which six are
ill the tonic chord. It will be noticed, also, how the false
musTcal accents are made in th^ " Platn-Chant '* version if we
accent the ^rst note of the neums. To make this matter still
more clear I cite the following old melody; composed in steps
and akips:
3 I d'liB I di m 1 f Ir' Itss I e'sm I f»I I vd't 1 d'-ll
d' I m'd'm' I r'tsl d'tl I »md I ra'd'm" 1 r'ls [ d'll I
o.c.
When a melody is compoBcd, wholly or Jn pirli in skips.
such skips are made by taking the sounds of the ihordi of the
mode- The chorda of the major tnode are the tonic chord,
dj m, 0; the dominant chord, a, t, r; and the tuh-dominant
chord, f, I, d; all major chords. The amele line under the
DDtei marks those which belong to the tonic chord in skipt^
and the dotted line those which belong to the aame chofd in
S08
The Restoration of PLAiN-CHAMT.
[Jan..
steps, Ta tbe ^ame manner the double lines show those aoics
belonging to 1h« stib-dominnnt chord, and the triple lines thmc
belonglnif to the dominant chords
1 will no^^ change ihe accentuation by placing the bArs In
a drtlerent manner:
rtXE
sd'sm I drmr| I r't s | s d's m ) fsls ] d'td'
Due.
dmdm'l r'tfld' | tism | d m'd'm- | r'l » d' | 1 1 s-
]i il the same m^lod)- ? Certainly not; Ihc accentuation i»
changed and the nietody is destroyed.
The sounds of the Gregorian scaJeE al^o have their pecuhar
habits, and if, in singing GregcrUn music, wc dUrcg^rfl thete
babtis we destroy the chant. It must be dibtinclly ttndvfMood
that melody existed before tnvde, just a:^ language exUled be*
fore graminar^ As grammar is only the usage of a Unguagc
reduced to Uw, $o is m^f the codi6c:ttion oJ the habit£ of
musical suuEid:^ under certain conditions.
II we exiiniine the melodies of Ihe first mode, for exarople,
w« find that its scale Is from rt to r// with &n occasional de-
scent to Jo below the lower rt and an accent to mi abcVQ th<
higher re. A chfomaije la is sometimes utcd; thus wc ha*e
three sounds cufsUe the scale. evjdenUy uted for a pariiculat
purpose and which, therefore, should be accented. The chordx
skips for Ihe lower part of the >icale are in the minor chord,
re, fa. k; the failing notes will, therefore, be mi, sol, and ta;
ti keeping ila rising habit. The chord-skips for the upper part
of the scale ur? in Ihc major chorcL, fa. la. do; and the (ail-
ing notes arc sal, ta, and re. The chord notes bave the pre-
ference for accent in ascending pa&»age», and the fa)Eirg nottt
in descending passages. The hablu of the sounds in the third
mode iirc very much the samt; as m the modern major scale,
because its principal chord is m:\ s&l, do. which i> an inversion
of the tonic chord in the major mode. Its £nal mi has a fall-
ing note /rf and a rising note rt depending npwn ll, And it t»
to this that it owes its peculiarity,
] naight continue with an analytrs »1 each of the other
modes, but enough hiS been said to show ibe great tftpertaiKe
of thii subject. We see now how it 4fi that a melody written
ID one mode will be totally unlike & melody written in an*
1906,
The Restoration of Plain^Chakt.
509
&thcr mod«, a.itd yet we tind in the Liber Ufualifi numcroua
tDstances in which theae rules of the mode are utterly Ignored.
As instances of this kind I refer to the Alleluia of the seventh
Sunday after rentecosl, page ^14, Tt is marked in ihe first
Biodc. The tonality of the vcrijide is of the Ihird (nod<^, and
oot the tx^X, The Alleluia '^Adduecntur/' page 6^'j. is marked
En the third mode^ iu compass Is that of the first and sec;ond,
and its tonality is of the first mode- If we compare the mu-
sic of tbe two concluding syllables, and theiT jubtLus ef thirty-
five note«, with that of the two concluding syllables of the
gradual Timeie Domintini, page Ih^zj* we fmd iKal, with the
exception of the onii'^slon of four notes of the jubilds ^\ the
latter, they are idcnLical, though one Js in the third, and the
other in the first model The Alleluia Fac na. 430, la
mftflcad in the eighth mode; its dominani is W. the dominant
«f the eighth mode ia do. The piece Ja in the modern msjcr
mode, with an eighth mode endlngn The Alleluia De quaeum-
que, in the first mode on pJigc 450, has the tonolity of the
fourth mode, with a first mode lermination.
in the Solesmea School the mode doe£ not seem to be of
very great importance, Birkle say?: ** The matter which we
have so far considered is not Plain-Chant, Mode*, scales, in-
tcEvaJs ^rc dead iiiaitcrs/' Perhaps They are. and as long as
they remain dead matters, chant itself will remain dead, and
every effort to revivify it will be futile.
If the observance of the rules of tonality are of such great
importance in the singing of chant, they are of vastly greater
importance in accompanying it^
The accompaniment of chant consists of chords which arc
added to the melody^ and which are played iipcin the organ
while the chant Js being sung. Wh«n these chords are prop-
erly chosen, tfie chant and the harmony Added to it blend into
9 beautiful and artistic whf>lc ; when, un th^ other hdnd. they
are not properly chasen. we have a liime. halting, hodge-podge
with "neither head nor tail/' as repugnant to the Uyman 4i
to the trained musician.
Ttie principles of accompaniment are not dillicult to under-
stand. Every note jn a ^iven cnelody may be made part of
torn* chord- We saw In the previous page^ that the major
icale contain* three major chords^ These three major chorda
conuin alJ the notes of the scale. In the scale we also find
Sio 7mR RRSTOftATiON OF PLAlX^CNA.wr, [Jan.,
three minor-choriit, one on the second, one on the third, and
one on the Sixth. This Utter chord is the chord of the rtla-
Hve minor, and those on the second and third are the chordi
<if il!^ sub'dominani and domin^Ml resptclively. If we enter
the regif>n of dissonance, we meet the chord n{ the imperfect
lifth on the seventh of the scale, and the chords of the domUi
nant sevenlh, ninth, eleventh, and ihirteenih. We meet Iheae
dis^nant chords also in the minor mode, besides eomc other*
which it Is not neccBsary to mention h^re. All these chords
are susceptible of inversioD; lh« chords of three notes having
two, and the chords of four or more notes having three inver-
sions.
To show the enormous amount of harmonic material we
have here, we wfll take the note sqI and follow it through its
varioui harmonic combinations:
F
m" r" m" r' r'
d" d" t t t t I t I
sssssssssssss
m rn r r rn ai f J f
d t. t, r r
Tntc D«min>ni Ii«i>LLauii Daffluuii fflb
Chord t:iM)ril hJin^r CTipril
We do not include the chords of the ninth, elevcnlb, and
thirteenth. We might tabulate the combinations of all the
other notes of the scale, hut it would take up too much space.
Sounds combined into chords have habits which are much
more imperauvc than the hdbits of single sounds. Chords
whose roots are a fiFth apart, will combine in all three motiotti,
direct, contrary, and oblique^ chords whose roots are a third
apartj will combine in contrary and obUc^ue only; and chords
whose roots are a second apart, will combine in Contrary mottoa
only. (Ln direct motion the parts move in a similar manner; in
oblique mottOD some of the parti move while others stand stii] ;
and in [Contrary motion the p^^rts move in contrary directions^)
Diisonani chords and common chords in their Second mversica
must be quitted in a certain manner, and therefore their use is
ie£tr[ct?d.
These al^nittes between chords exist, of course, also in the
i906.J
The Restoratsqi^ of Plain-Chant.
Sn
Gregorian modes. To accompany chant properly wc must be
acquainted witli the harmonic combinations of every note in the
mode and, moreover, we mu5t choose ccr harmony in such a
manner as lo bring out the peculiarfliea of the mode into
■trorigcr relief than if we &ung the chanC without accoixipanU
meni. We may harmonize every note of the chant, or wc may
harmoniie only the ealient notes, treating the other notes a£
pasfiinE notes, although Ihey may make new chords.
I will analyse the first mode. Its compass is From D to D.
It ia an authentic tncde; therefore its principal chord will be
the chord on its final, the minor chord of D, This chord will
be the principal chord for the harmonizBtlon ol the portions of
melody which are Encludcd in its compass. We have seen that
the tipper phrases of the mode are in the hftb fa do; the sec-
ond principal chord of the mode is, di<fcfore, the major chord
of F. Our secondary chords will be: firftt, the chord of A
minor, the chord of the dominant of the mode; cecond, the
chord of li ^at^ the sub- dominant of F [o be used wh^n the ti
\% flatted; third, the chord of C, which is dominant to F; and
fourth, the chord of G major, to be used in the accompaniment
of tt when it is natural. We may also use the chord of G
minor, the relative minor to B f^at. though this is not neces-
tary, I will no« tabulate the harmonic combinations of the
various sounds which are used in the firsi mode \
D \% found in the chords of D minor, G major and mmof,
and B flat.
*' ■' *• •' " C major and A mlnor.
' F major, D minor, and fl flat,
" G major and minor and C major,
'* " F major, A itnd D minor,
" G maior.
■* F, C. and A minor.
E -
F ■'
G "
A"
S ■'
C "
I might, in the same manner, give examples of ihe har-
moniEation of the other mode?, but I think enou^^h has been
said to prove to any fair-minded person th&t the progressions
of the melody ttsctf, and not the arbitrary shapes given to th«
groups of notes which form it, should govern its acceniuazion.
Thcfc then arc the theories iipon whjch the restoration of
Plain^ChanC wilt be based^ and by i Reetoratlon of Flain-Chant
I do sot mean a " restoration " which has for its object merely
Sia
The RESTOHATJOti OF PLAJS^CiiA^'T.
U"-
the singing of the Requiem MasB oi tbc Ofliccs of Holjr Wec^k
by a choir picked up for Ihe occasion, or even the sioglng of
the rc«pon!ies by a frw boya, forming what ts sometimes cAJled
by courtesy i. *'SaactU4ry Choir'*; I mean a real rfftoration,
which l;a:5 for Itfi object surging; in Flain-^Chant the xntislc of
the entire Mass and Vespers, both proper umj comniorit ob
every Sunday and holyday in the year, and alao chat of any
other l[turgical ofliccs which may occur, by a choir of oicn
and boys, auifed in surpHce and ca&«ock, occupying their pro-
per place* in ihe choir (and not iri the orgar lofl), iird taking
their proper part in all the ceremonies.
The writer ha& been told that ''his theorief^ are all very
well; but will they stand against those of men wh^t have SDa:de
Plain-Chant a life-long study?" The reply U thai these theo-
rir£ ore the theories of one who has made a iife-long ftudy
of Plain-Chant, and who, moreover, has proved their correci-
□Cfift by the success which has attended their adoptioon They
are theories founded upon melodic and harmoiiic truths, TheM
are as old as the world, and are destined to taai lorcver; for,
a> far as has been revealed to us, music is the only one of
the arts which is to have a place in the world to come^ They
are theories of success, not of failure or of cxperi[ncnt, and
we may aafely say that all failures which have attended the
many attempts at restoring Gregorian chant may be traced Eo
the fact that thv^se theorieg have been generally ignored
Years before Dom Pothier published his work on the Gre-
gorian melodies^ and before the Rattri>oii revival wu thought
of, it was <ny privilege to be entrusted with the taiik of fotm-
ing a Gregonac choir, such as I have mentioned, in the Church
of St. Paul the Apotlle, New York City, under the prefecture
of Rev. Alfred Yoong. who was a learned and enlhusiailic
Grcgortanist, This choir han now been in existence over a
third of a century. It has proved by its success that the theo-
ries advanced hare are true, and it has, I thiok* fully at^swcred
alt the ob|ect]ons wh^ch have, from time 1o time, been brought
agaiufC riain-Cbant. "Good enough for Requiems and for
Advent and Lent?'* some have asked- ll certainly is, and
grmnd enough and glorious enough tor the colebration of the
Christmas and Easier festivals and all the other great func-
tions of the ecclesiastical year. "Drive the people out of
urchT' others have prophesied. Come and ttcc the crowds
i9o6l] The Restoraiwn of PLAis-CffA^:r. 513
■I High Masft on any Sunday En the year. **The people will
not lisien to it*" is another prophecy. We lcav« ihe answer
10 fl.Ay one who has assisted at our services and who has a
■pArk of correct muBical or aesthetic taste.
Organists and choirmasters and innsidans gencTally, from
|!||] over the country, ^eem to inakt? it a point to vieit the
Church during their vacaiior, and. what is still more impor-
tant, they come year aftei ytar. Cardinals, archbishops, blsh-
^Sbps* and priests from a1] parts of ihc world have given thrir
Approbation and expressed their pleasure at what Ihey have
seen and heard, Among them may be mentioned Cardinal
iMcCloskey, Cardiniil Salolli, the Apostolic Delegale, Arch-
l)iahop MartiAcUi* Archbishop Falconio, Archblshcp Agitis, and
•almost all the arthbJsbcp^ and liishops of this countiy^
Cardinal SatoIIi^ in speaking' of the " Motu ?roprio," said
of St. Paul's Church- "It is the only Church in the United
States where Hnihitt^ wilt have to te cltan^^d.'*
Archbishop Falconio said: " Tt ip Ihc only Church in the
United States where tvtrytking is dene in /xac/ ac^ordanu with
ih^ tuUhta fff tht Holy Father*'
Archbishop Agiu^, after one of the services at which he
Wfts present, took occasion to ^^ into the chnirroom to ck*
press his approbation and to thank tht choir for the great
Bnd excellent work ihey were doing for the honor and glory
of God and of the Church.
A few words concerning the organUuion and work of this
choir may not be oui of place. The choi^ was org^aniaed in
1S71 and Lis work was commenced under the special bkssing
of his Holtnes?, Pope Pius IX., and of his Grace, the Most
Rev. John McCJoskey, Archbishop of New York, and ii has
gone on wiihoul Any InterrupCion ever since. The chant-bookg
Miectcd for the use of the choir were those published in Mon-
treal, which were alio the ofEiclal books of the Diocese of New
VorV, being used in tht Provincial Seminury at Troy, and their
Qse has been continued ever sincCn After the publication of
the RaiUbon book our retention of the Montreal cditimis sub-
jected us to many a good-naEured criticism from the adherents
of the Ratisbon, mo»t of whom, by the way* are now just as
enthufciastle for the Solcsmes as ihey were then for the Ralisbon.
Th« choir consists of about seventy^five young m^n and
JjOys^ They sing the proper and ordinary of th« Masa on
VOU LKXXtl.— JJ
•
i
5U
THE KESTO^AT/OJV Of PtAiy-CliAyT.
[Jan.,
(Very StitltJay and \\o\ydAy in tha ycsr in J tain Cia^t fxe^m^
livffy ; lh« prop«r Vespers, wilh all commemoratioix. ftcid
Compline on the Wednesdays of Lent. Thry 4ir Able io I'njc,
if iiecnsbary, the tnlirc proper and nrdltiftTy pf the M«»s aixl
the entire proper Vespers in Plain-Chant al jirsr j/^Af it iht
Citnrch, withoul At\y rehearsal whatever, sod ihey could lAk*
entire charge of the music for any oral! (he ceremonies jr lh«
PontiActle, provided time was given to prepare copies of the
mu6ic>
The boys< for the most pail, Hre from the public acbpabt
and their rehearsals take place afttr pcbool hourr^a ^tricuB
htadicap, ai they are generally lired fifier their icbool tvoik-
The men arc mostly young men <»f the parish, quite 4 Iftri^f
percentage of them having been boys in the choir Their ifr
hearsals take place in the evening, alter their day's work \%
done- No »aUry whatever is paid to citber boya or men-
The parish is not an ideal one, as far as the worldly pros-
perity of hs inhabitants is concerned, nor is the toeaiton par*
tkularly conducive to the development of good voices. There
is an elevated railroad station at th« corrter, for the Sixth and
Ninth Avenue roads, and four lines of trolley cars converge *t
the same corner Besides being thoroughly grounded in cbani,
the choir i& well versed Jn modem mueic ai^n. A piece ol
modern music is generalTy sung after the proper offertorium ol
the day; and an oiatorlo chorus, or a motet, after Veipcfl,
while the preparations are being made for Uenediclion.
Among the composers whose works have been drawn upon lor
this purpose, I may mention Falcstrins, Altegri, Beethoven,
Mozart, Handel, Haydn, Gounod, Kosaini, Meyerbeer, Donizetti,
Lis£t, Mendcis&obn, Witt, Hanisch, Oberhoffor, diid otbeiv.
It must not be supposed that in the development of tbU choir
all has been plain sailing* Far from il^ Wc have had the dif-
ficulties inseparable liom a volunteer choir. W'e have suffered
from misrepresentations, covert sneers, and ill naiured r<niaikr
It certainty is discouraging, in a meavurcr for one of my singert
to a«k whether the Grcgoriari Chant we are singing is real Gre-
gorian chant, because A had lold him that At had heard iiciS
B that it i« not.
It mult not be inferred from what T have said that we
r«ieni criticism; we do not, provided that i1 contea Irom one
competent to criticise. Gregorian Chant \s one ol the braachcJi
I9C6.]
THE RESrORATlOr^ OF PLAiN^CHANT.
S15
\\ arb.
such it Jind il<
musirat art. ana as sucti it Jinci ii« expunirnts must be prc>
pared to sTand £omptUHt criticism ; but in every art and science
thefc Arc pretenders, and mu^ic, ujifortunulely^ has jnany ir.oie
than its (air share.
While searching for information on recent developments ard
dUcoveiiee in FUin-Ch^int^ I h«ve fouad some curious slate-
menis; lo some of these I have already refcrfcd. Some cit Ihcro
are masically untrue; and others are loose, misleading, ar.d
calculated to make Gregorian Chanty and all connected with it,
a laughing-stock for ntusiciani:.
In treatises on ehant. intended for the irBtruetion of gingers
and others, I have seen examples of chant in which the clef
is wrongly pUced , others in which the examples of chant are
printed ufsuif l/ijtch (with the words printed under the re-
versed and consequently retrograde notes) In one instance,
the chant is commenced incorrectly as chant, because it is not
in the mode to which the piece tn question belong:*; but about
half way from the end all the notes drop one degree, so that
the piece, which commences, let us auppofic, in the key m\ G
«nds in the key of F, An example taken from modern music
is said TO be in the key of D. butMt ha£ three sharps in its
signature- Other instances fihow models for accompanimenia,
meagre, puerile, and ill sounding; wirh bare filihs^ disaonnnces
improperly resolved or not reaoEved at ail, and consecutive (iflha
60 barely avoided that they would still be held as violations of
the rule by Cherubini. Aibrcchtsbcfgcr, and all other masters
of counterpoint and harmony. I have read of '* a chord or
note'* and that the "fir£t beat of the bar \t. the weak be^t,
becauseit is the down beat"; (he " rliminished seventh," when
the dominant seventh was meant, etc,, etc.
We have endeavored to set forth what we judge to be the
true theories of i'lain- Chant ; theories which we knoH*. from our
experience ancl fTom well known results, will, if adopted, con-
tribute moat cflicaciously to the great and glorious work^lhe
restoration of Plain-Chant.
STUDIES ON FKIBDRICH NIETZSCHE.
BV M. IX PETPJL
II.
[N his lattr introductiori to Tht Biwtk 6f Tragedy.
NicUfche regreu ibat (his book was not wfiitcc
in poetry instead of proae; hla soul ahould have
'*sung and not fipokcnn"
What he Sfttd of his first work aomc OJ u*
would eodorM. u^^th far more convictton* of hi) later ones. He
wdi capable of being maa)* ihingE, but he was a poet pethap*
moTtf than anyihiny else. Could we have clasftcd him Altogether
in ihta category, hi* position would have been, 1 think, more itite
and more permanent' The good in him vvould have been more
forcible, (he bad would have been Jess objectionubie. Hia ^x-
aj:gerationf would have had a. clothing which, Hke a suitable
lte£3. would have softened the har^hneisor their outline, mak-
fng ihcm seem th;it which they really wetc: not dcliberaie
statementB of truth, but suggestions and iniuitiona triternal afid
mOLtieacary as flashes of light and sparks of Rre-
Not bat that a poet should be truthful as well as a phi-
losopher Of a scienli&t, bul il is in a different way. In sdenc*
wc look for iruih deAned and limited, truth thu we can meas-
ure and cDinprehend, whereas in poetry and in art we look fof
truth pii}gfes£Jvc, unde^ned, and uiiIiiiiLted. h% SthopejihaQer
say$. the artist must not explain everything; when we entirel)'
understand him, then the art is thin. And Nletfsche also IclU
us that '* Ai youth and childhood have a value of their own.
and not only a^ atigea at iraasition, so unfiniKhGd thougbti
have likewise tbeir value."* In these words he gave us the
apology of his own wrltings-
lietween the years iSju and 1876 appeared all the work*
of his Arst> and his undisgLiisedly poeilc and ftrtUtlc |>«riod.
In iSSo he put prefaces to his earlier works, prefaces which
j9oe.]
STUDfES ON FRtEDRiCH NIETZSCHE.
S<7
concain the judgment of rhe luter on Ihc caHicr Nietische. It
is diffti^uEt for any writer to tealiic that he if, perhaps, no more
compQt«nl in advanced Ufc I'O give a final opinion on hia younger
worlc than any other critic, and has no more right ihan any
one eUe to pass on it a sentience of final condemnAticn, Dut
Niausche thought h« had; and the icsaer mind of iSSfi set itself
up to jtidge and reprove the stronger, richer mind oi ten year*
ago. All that he really commended in hi^ first booles was atiy
indication be could tind therein cf hia later philosophy.
It IS quile true that in T^e Birth of Tragtdy there is evi-
dently aomtfthirg of the spirit of the later Anti-Christ ; and
that in the consldetailon on IVa^nfr in Bayrtfith we have just
the hint of ihe crLtLci£in& contaJaed in hi£ last pamphlet,
J^ietesehf eontra Wagitfr. But if it be true that iheac marks
of CH^nsistent development are to be traced, it la none the IcfS
certain thai the Jirst works possess something wh:ch H Jacking
in the Uter oncs^a completeness^ an originality, a warmth and
strength which stamp ihem as the work of a richer mind. W?
would all of us like to prove ourselves consistent, but one
could hav^e wished, in the case of Nietzsche, that he had sought
An inverse canstslenc/. of Ihe later years with the earlier, rather
than the other way about The chief misforEune. however, i)
that the world has br^cn too much inElnenced by his own valu* *
Ation, and has accepted his relative eslimaiLon of his earlier
«nd hU later work. How many people have read the Anii*
Chfiit for one that knows hi« really bi^auliful work* 7/ie Birik
^/ 7ra£ttfy or the Considsr<^tious oui oj tiue Time f
1 cannot forbear from saying once more that Nietzsche dees
nut H]jpe4r to mc li? consist «f successive and whole divided
pertonalitlc* ; there is consiiicncy: there arc notes of sell-asiiCT-
tion. self-restraint; there Is a spirit of strenuous activity and
lorward movement which may be peiceived throushout^ 3ut
still he left a great deal of the best behind him in his advance;
and he wUf for this reason, the very worst criilc of his own
works. We will. then, in our £ludy of Nietzsche ia artist and
poet. tKk? him apart from his own self-appreciaiion, and learn
what he has to teach us in spite of himself: that is to say,
learn of the enthusiastic younger Nietzsche, and shut our ears
In the bitter comments of the older nian, who h^s no morv
right to pans a final judgment than we ourselves. The bnoks
Chat be his given us belong no longer to their author alore.
I
)li
STUi^iES ON FftiSD/fiCff yf£r^CM£.
u«.,
APOLLO AND ClOf'^VSos,
i
111 T/U Birtk «/ Tragtd/ Niet£9che develops his thcoiy
ol tha Giveb tragedy, which he considers the highcBt »chieve-
mttdl ol itt, binding lagciher, as it (toes, <he two great funda-
nwnUl vkrovnu or all art, caUcd, in Grc«k parUncc. aft«r the
HoU Apollo and Divnysoi- He raUcs hU voice against tbe
prtfvatUnyi dlttinctlon between the subjective and the obfecilve I
In art, and, on thia point* p^rts company with Schopcnhauor-
Tharn U for him no such tbir^g as suhjtilti'e an; "the tuhja^
th'^ artitt i</' he aays, "a bad artist";* and when the trvtm
poet or arllvt ttpeaks in the lirst person, it is not us in the per-
lon ai hin own limited Individuality, but in the person oi the
{•W-hints, tlte whole universe; lirs :^ong of joy is of the ioy of
All natufc; hb cry of pain is the grnsning of all creatiofi,
Onca ha becomes, in the restricted sense, bimself, he ceases to
ba ut artist, &nd becomes the NuA/Kunstief.
Apolto and Dionyaoa must, therefore, be taken quite irre*
ipectLve of thift more ordinary distinction; Apollo standi for
the kingdom of dreams and appearance, foE the arts of sculp-
* ture an<l prtiniing, while Diotij'sos represents mu^ic and sound,
the wilder. Ie» formulated expression of things which lie be-
neath the iiidividLiat and the phenomenon That which we can
$ce and touch and measure and undcfstand, ihat which ha*
form and iJmEta, shape and appearance, is of the realm of
Apolto, aad the Apollinifitic artist is great in proportion to the
perfection and completeness and finish of his outlines That,
on tha contrary* which is exprcsiive without being explanatory,
which la intense but not clear, which implies but does not in-
slruci, which hinla but does not define, is ol the ktngdona of
Diony}0«, and the greatness of the Dionystic arri^t is shown
ia his SLig^estion of unliinjtcd aUength, not En hi^ peilect rcn-
dering of a definite form,
Tlie division of light and sound, sctdpture and musk, it
here typical of a suii deeper distincUon, that, namely, whkh
exists between the g/eat underlying forces of niture and bo-
niKDityi and thv definite, phenomenal, and alto ephemeral
miLnifeiuiion of thetc forces in the world of appearance. To
^
J9O60
Studies o^v f/hedrich msrzsc/fK.
519
NieUsche, who hGrein foEloMred Schopenhauer, this great under-
lying Force, which found its expres^LDii in Dionystic art, was
the will of the universe, and ihe realm of appearance and
t»{ individuality, was the nunifesta-tJon, ihe objectificilion of
thia will. And, even though wc follow neither Schopenhauer
nor Nietzsche in their scheme of ihe unLvene, we may stUt
find Qiich ifulh and suggcstivcness in the division proposed.
Mankind f^ll^) indeed, into tbvo da^seS) whi^^h correspond
fkirly well with the above-named categories; and we could,
furthermore, distinguish each one of us, in our own lives, the
Apollinisiie and Dionysirc phases.
The delight in pure intellecmai distinctions; in scientific
certainly ; in limited, clearly -defined notions ; in ftyliogifitic
rrtisoning and maihemitical probLems are evidences and mani-
fcsialion? of the Apollinistic temperament, which ts calm and
C4>ntented and self- possessed. And this is perhaps^ on the
whole, the earlier stage of mental development, the *tage in
which cold intellect prevails and thought is untroubled by
emotion- But then succeedi another period, when the mind
begins to suspect its own insufficiency, tn doubt whether ita
nAch be commensurate with its grasp. To put il in Nietx-
cche'f own words:
*' Impelled by the aCrength of iu own illusions, knowledge
is hurried along to the barriers on which its hidden optimism
il shattered- For the periphery of the circle of knowledge has
fto Infitiite number of points . , < and before mid-iife the
nobly gifted ratnd ha9 struck on such points of limitation, and
been brought face to face with the unexplainablc'**
Thufi the intellect has, after all, not pUycd ufi false, but,
even through it^ urniue confidence, has bruu^hl us to the
point where its own bounds are apparent, where life ts seen
to be m^re than mind. And no* Apollo abdicates and the
other deity arises : spiritual sense and feeling whieper lo us
of things which pure intellect had not imagined. The mind
\% not bAuiBhad from the new quest, but it gocfi now. not
alone, but acc^ompanied ; not supremt?, but subordinate. Tiom
tlfne to lime It will again assert its undisputed ^way ; Irom
time to time we ihalL turn from those dimmer though deeper
impre»ions 10 the Eight of a more earthly day: we shall rest,
with a Sen^e of relief, in the coniemplaEion of detinile form
530
STUDtES ON FUlEDftiCJf N/ETZSCJfE.
[J«>-,
and (hai»«- We «1iall count up, as far as may be counl^d, the
ipoElt we hftVG brought from that other Tand. wtr ahal] cloibc
cKeai ivith indiriiJuAlEty and make them our own, But once
morr, and Again wc Ehftll hear the call from the unfathomable
Jeep, and vur true inlellectua] and spiriluitl greainesa will de-
pend on the Willing rccognicioa of our own mental littleness
in th« lace of ihe^e underlying realties, which speak to hearl
M to head, but ^re wfaolty comprehended by neither,
\\ ftooaetimci too often happens that the DlonysUc Mreun
of ftttiatiG &ad iatftUectuil percepiion is dried up by the
cnoftotono^xt dr u dgery of daily life. Men look back on tfacir
yt>ui^eT day* nf enchniUtn and inspiration with a kind of
pUyiftf coalvMpt. And ytt. in the words oi Omar Khayyam.
«« dw^ht >Ay of Micfa:
A«d B«c^ u Wine has play'd ihe Inlidel,
And robb«d me of u\y Robe of lienor — well,
1 wonder often what (he Vmtners buy
0««-haU to p«eciout as the stuff ihey sell.
It b n^^t wine, but wisdom, which is here in point — a wl
4«M vM4:Ek 1*<l ^>uce» pefhapt, to aHfrtiaU^i results, deeds that
^^^ Miorv ibhii worldly wise. We can make no mistaken witb
Cl^Bvly 4M#Mvn^d vilue*; whereas wc oftcu err when dea]in|F
VHib tt^al U too i^rcat for computation. But the question ia;
*' WmI hAv« we ^ol instead t" If it something "half ae pre-
fl«lil" ft* the «tul! we «otd to get it ? Nietzsche himself
ntirihl paihaps, in later life, have b«en numbered among those
^i\\t «(« ihuft apt to regret much of what was best in their
MiVM youthr Hut. in so far &s he did so, he forgot his own
«.<fi1i »l tH^C, wben, describing the DIony&Eic processions, he
" T^af« are dull and Ignorant men, who turn nway la
■■»«r« And pity from such nunife^tations, proud in the scnM
l<| tliair own perfect sanity; they are too poor to know how
H|i« »nJ i|h<i«lly this their kiait/t appears, as the glowing life
III |llftnr*lt^ fluihuftiaim >wccps by ->
1^.]
STUDIES ON faiEDSICif N/ETZSCHE.
531
II.
REACTION.
In a fragment on Httiory and Fats,'' writt^a even so early
aa 1B61, Nieti5chc says!
"Ah! how ofien, from the iiiid« of the endks« ocean of
tbotlght, one ye&rns tu be once moEC on iho Arin land ^ bow
often, in the throes of barren speculation, I have longed for
history and science!"
In i363 came his first acquaintance with Wagner, followed
\yy Ihosc years of iniimacy, so fruitful lo both men, when art,
poetry, myaiicism, seemeil to fill hia life and satisfy his aspir-
aCions. But the aforesaid longing was not extinguished, and
wc are now to assist al the development of anolher SLdc of
this versatile naiore.
Some would d«scribe it ia a few word». and say that he
now pioccedetl to bitra what he had adoied, md to adore
what hf^ had burned. Hut this is too summary a description.
\l{& second period ia not in every sense, though w is O'n many
poinCE, contradictory of the first. Nietzsche remained a poet
vlill ; he cotild not have done otherwise, however much he
tried, fiut the critical and Tationahstic and materJaEisitic ele-
menU of his intellectual constitution became more pronounced,
and assumed, for a rime at least, the ascenderi^y^ Niei^sche's
philosophy was weaif in synthesis, His development was suc-
cessive and not comprehensive. The docinne of the £zvig€
Wisdfrkfhr. "eternal repelilion/' was not Inapplicable la bis
own mind. Some of his later criticism of Wagner, though vio-
IvnE, is not unjust; it agrees with that of more professional
judges. The pity was that il did not accompany his earlier
enthusiasm, instead of merely succeeding 10 it. We should
tb^n have had at once an inspired appreciation, logether with
an intelligent crLticism, of this gigantic genius, who cannot be
wholly judg^ed by poets and philosophers, because he is a ran-
jkian : nor by musicians, because he is a poet and philosopher.
The first point, therefore^ on which the reaction of Nietzsche
took place was in bia relations with Wagner. He had fought
bis cause when it was a well-nigh desperate one; he a£(i»ed
at hts tuccetiB, only to turn aw«y with wearineaA And repug-
nance. In i8;6 the great reprcieniation of the "Ring dw
Nibclungen** look place ai Bayreuth, and NteiKsehc was pres-
*V*J^ /ii^ Vol. ].
1
1
s»
Sri'vii^s ox PniEDRiui n/etzsche.
lUn.
ent in body, but not In soul. He tad felt for some lime ibat
the pergonal inflii«nce of his friend was too strongly exercised ;
tie desired cmancipaiion ; and lo those who have followed ihe
bUtory of thU episode, Nietzsche's first work of this period,
Humaii. tei> /fumuft. teems with hostile allusions to Wagner.
He avenges himself on. the friend for whatever he had come
to think excessive is his own friendship and admiratioc^
Bui it was noi only, nor even chiefly, a personal matter;
U WdS a reaction from everything in Ihc nature of sentimenE-
«nd enthusi^iBm ; a reaction excessive and violent, as waa; every
Nietxfchlan phase. Cut here again, let u£ remember that this
Violence has an extenuating circum&tance in the subjective con-
dition of the man himself, Nletrache was, os we have seen in
the former article, fgbtin^ himself as well as his friends. He
dreaded the iu^prefisioiiE of sickness and nervous irritation, and
chodC to he coldly intellectual at a time when other men might
have become still more highly emotional- He says in the
FrvhUihe WintnukQfi, with that lack of modesty which was,
we uiuBl: admit, a prevailing charactenatic, but with some Iruth,
that it is his "froprium and ipstssimum*^ to have found a
"i/atfua/ pessimism *'— by which he means a pesstniifim not
irij^pired by personal melancholy or personal woe$; a pessimism
not of weakness and inanition, but one which can recogcixe
the evil* ol life from Ihe point of vantage of its own ctrcngtb.
Sickness and sutTerJng were every day companions to NielK-
flchc, and had lost that sentimenial halo which they possess
for those who can sing sweetly of the fair face and the many
charms of the sitcrii Sorrow. He dreaded his own weakness
too much to admire weakness elsewhere, and the sufferings of
his own frail body led him on lo an almost absurd admiration
for brutal health and strength. The motto of the first pari ol
this period was, indeed, the antithesis of the foftncr otie.
" Cave musicam"; he denied himself music in order to react
more surely against what he deemed the over romantic tenden-
cies of his Wagner period. A
Vet these new considerations were not all inspired by sub-
feciive needs, but had a very genuine foundation of truth, He
was rvvoltinK aif^ainst that theory of art which ddighls tn the 1
unfinished, the vague, the obscure, «W because the highest ef-
foits and the dccpeM thoughts are often, jnevitably, though
unfortunately, marked by these chaTacteristics, but for very
P,
i9o6.]
SruniES o/v FRiSDiticft Niltzsche.
sas
love of incompJeceness^ uncertaiutyi and darkne&a. He pushed
one truth peniawntlx forward, unwdcome is it generally was,
thai the highcfit achievement of all is to be dear Afi well as
4lc«p; complete im w^iJ as suggestive; strong as well as Bad.
It ia nobler to £u^er than not lo feci; but it is noblest of all
to surmount the suffering and win througli to joy- Cnnquercd
anguish; joy tnumphant over pain; perfection and Ufe victors
over weakness and death; these are to bim the noblest artia*
tic themes, while ihc chief aim of modem art is, in his mind,
to cover ruins, to sow (lowers ovei the cave which [fl filled]
with empty desires-*
To the diMJnction of Apolliciiitic and Dionystic art tuc-
eeeda now another category, with its division into the art
which is born of SrfirrtutrJfr. of need and longing, and the art
which is begotten of i'd'tr^ust. of streni^th and fulness. Some
men write and paint and compose becaue? they are seeking
and striving; because they would attain but have not altHined.
Others fct fall the Truits of iheir own strength and abundance,,
fruits as finished and perfect as Ihc tree from which they fall,
Speaking of a musical composer, Nietzsche sayft:
" He has the molaneholy of impotence; he creates, not from
falneifi but from his thkst lor fiLlneas ... all he really
poasesscB ik hi;; own Ut]nge'r"f
The last and the highest aim of art fs the representation of
"the permanent, restful, lofty, and simple'*;! ^^^ ^^'^ U'a^
macLterb "Am to be recognised in that they know, in little as
in great, how to conduct their work to a perfect cnd-"^
It \% the trait to which wb hrtve already grown accustomed,
the "will to be strong," maniftitcd now in his conception of
art, as we have already seen it manifested in the conduct of
hW life. I
li JB difBcult to imagine what would become of our modern
atr and liter*t«re if they were lo be cut off from their ordi-
nary source of inspiration, and from the depicting of want and
«orrow, both objective and objective. And yet NieUKhe'a
theory would probubly furnish thr touchstone by which to teat
and judge what is really decadent, Kxccpt to a few fult-
blooded poetfl of "too, too lolid E^e»h/' thii world is hirdly a
^1 studio for the production of wholly perfect f otms, of wholly
happy icenea Hut it Is one thing to depict sorrow, and it ia
• JrfrtUi'Hli'jfitfF, *>Vriii tJftihttilrf. 15, ]|. IJl,
4 J^*/tt*t li'iafKifAi/K r, all.
sa*
STUDIES CX FiilEDRiCH K/ETZSCHE.
[Jan.
another thing Xo depict It simply because wc ourselves ar«
sorrowful; and Nictz&che'^ idea was that an artisi must b«
master of his own impressions before he csn give them the
highest artistic rer^der^ng- The last note should be of triumpb*
and not of despair-
There is no doubt that, stoutly as he would have denied
it, Nieti»che wa^, in thJH second period, on the whole, anti-
Dionystic. The essence of Dionystic genius Is that h should
ri^c Irom a hidden, unfiithomahle source; whc^n we demand of
the artist absolute ^elf- possession and transparent lucidity, this
fouftuin 15 inevitably scaled. An artist then becomes, as Nicti-
5che has so often represented him, a rcUograde utiHldrian ;
and a man of genius \% quite contrarJIy ro his former coneep*
lioD, an abortive savant Ruthlessly, and often falsely, he now
pointti nut the spot cf materialism, and the taint of animal
leif'ieeking in nur mo^t spirttual aspirations.
Later on he mtghi have ^ald that he saved the cauce of
Dionystic art by tbe uniimited dimensions which he conferred
Upon the tgo : if $eif be coextensive with the universe, then wc
may be wholly self-contiined and yet also Dioftystic and unJ-
V0fsal. But the cause of art is, in fact^ hopelessly impoveTistied
by hii stern denial of that which had once been to him the
foiinlaia of living water. His criticism was stronjj and whoU*
•omo In It* steady repressioa of dilettantism, of the pseado-
liifplralion that really spring* from vagueness and ignorance,
Ifom half'tdc emotion and from half -apprehended ideas^ But,
like hi* Huperman, what wc may call his super-art was not for
lhi« worldn II wa* a hint of something which may, one day^
b« Dur*. whtn we can attain the fulness of life without suf-
firinKi and the luin«aft of strength without sin*
^
III.
AaT FOR AftT^S JAKlu
Fntire U a coaVidvflble and inliuenital school to whom the
pfJnrlpU of "art for art's sake," of it» moral indilTerence and
abiolut* riifhts. ii a fundamental principle. To theni the Uw
ol iMauty Ii the law of life, and to the ariislic lemperament
ni:ihknK i> forbidden or unclean,
AilboAigh we may be entirely convinced that there is somv-
lMn8 f>^l"' 'i"*^ dangerous in this doctrine, and although the
Htntiial philuiuphy of the men who propound ii may luificiently
4
r«bsO
SrUPlSS ox fRfSVR/Cfl N/STZSCftE.
sn
tmint it WJth an anti-rcTlgloui character to juatlfy our fuspicions,
loi Its own frankJy that it is not easy, from a taeaXy superficial
consideration, to prove It entirely wron^. There is someThing
imperative in beauty as in truth: something ultimate and com-
peliinji. in presence of which we can no more refuse our tribuip
of aHmiralion and joy than wc can withhold our inteUectual
assent from in evident 4cieniL(i< proposhicn.
And now. when we understand art in tike sense which it
bore for Nieiasche in his eariy works, 3 ^cn^e whiclj it has
borne also for the greatest artistic minds oi (he world, h be-
comes questionable whether we need quarrel with the principle
at all; whether " Art for ail's sake" may not be he jusliliable a
doctrine ft« *• truth for truth's sake.*' or •' good for good's salce."
It becomes alflo a question whether the above-mentioned school
are wrong in Ihe proposifion they put fofwjtrd. or are wrong
merely in the conception they have Inrmed of the terms which
compose it; in which ca»e our quarrel would be with their
noiion of art, and not wi[h their assertion in rtf^ard |o it^
Ley say that art is nen fiurtii. but need we be scnndaliwd,
there is a sense in which religion also is non-moral?
dtfliliilgi OS it does, with ultimate reaEilies, and not with the
lawa of our process towards them. The supreme law of love
in religion, in its super-moral aspect, is not so unlike the
supretne law of beauty in art; is there not then some point of
eternal necegsity to which both ultimateiy converge? j^rf
would then be. not the enemy ol religion, nor yet her hand-
maid, but just another bridge, springing from the sense of
beauty in man, and leading to the source of beauty in God,
If it is non'moral, it U aho non-material ; it is a revelation of
the spiritual aspect of life as opposed to the DUiAtiu, its im-
mediate, practical, and purely individual aspect.
But now flurdy we hnve struck on the barrier which divides
art, in this its eternal and universal sense, from the art which
is glorified by our modern decadents. To these men ait is a
in<re adornment of thEir own lives; a means by which They
m*y either express, if they be reproductive, or relieve, if ihey
b« receptive, their own moods and dcaiies^ They will depend
largely tor their success, not on their power of going out of
themselves, but on the very force of their self-concentration;
weaken th« springs of their egoism and you i^^sen the stream
of their invention. "Art for art's sake" becomes to them a
STUDIES 0.V FRIEDHICH NIETZSCHE.
I
princif>le of liceni« and «nt»ounrf«ti seH'indulgepce. The I*w
of bcAuty \% not, in re&lity, supreme, but subordinate lo the
ltt« of personal incliualion. "' The misiy mountain winds " * *-ill
not " be free to blow ag^in^t Ihcm/' but will only be admitted,
through icented curtftins. into a well warmed aad luxurious
chamber,
Hut clernal art, in the service of eternal bc.iuly, ha^ a very
tiiflercTit demjind to make. A Kempis himself hardly asks for
nioro entire abnegation than is tnanifeaud in the self- restraint
of the hi^he«t wofks of art, The se1f-rc!siraini is non-moral,
but \\ \% iclf- restraint none the ks;. Not need it startle and
perplex u9 to frnd that the ultimate laws of the spirit-tife re-
veal ihemselrcA, different yet the same, in aesthetics aa in rc<
ligion; tt»4t the ii»dividuat milE finds himstlf in pmenGe of tb«
tame necduiy. that of bringing himself and hi& work into their
right r«Utiotk to tbe whole. Here is the task on which bU
telf- restraint « to b« capended, whether in religion or in >rt.
The truths unveiled by either ire lo immenfc in their d«-
maviJt, that frivolity and licence and dilectaniism shrivel at
their light. Their claiv is so alU comprehensive and so eX'
clii«ive, that the detail* of law are lost st^bt of and forgotten,
ojily because tbey are swallowed aDd summed up in something
gteater^ " Love and do ak you will," sounds an easy com*
mAndment. but expreisca indeed a &tate of the highest religious
atuinment, It la a claim on the entire life, while the parlieu-
iMt moral preceptv arc, each of them, a demand on some part
of il. And so too the principle "arc for art's sake/' in tts
Mil for utter self-immolation in the cause of everlasting beauty f
In the tnidnt of hit own delight the true arti^i hears, like the
voice of conscience, the «ummon? onward arid upward. He
niiut not repose in % single theme, but must weave it continualir
Into « greater whole- He i& providing for an everlasting hunger,
M Nietiiche kaya of Wajjner, not for a pa»&ing appetite- Kut,
IM II would be grotesque to apply the dictum of St. Augustine
ti> the earth-bound soul, that U fenced in by il^ own scLAsh
desires and limitations, so if it Fal&c when uc hear Ihis other
Hioito from the lips of those who use a lesser conception of
■rt for their own peiBooAl ends, and have not sacri^ced them*
«aNei in the iiervice of a bt-auty which is resistlees as fate, be-
uaiise it il etarnal a> love and truth.
' * Lliie> iliDtt lliUvm Abbcf- WontMuilh.
MR, MALLOCK ON THE NATURALNESS OF
CHRISTIANITY
SY WILLIAM L, SCLLIVAM. CS.P,
IN a recent magazine Article, Mr. W. H, Mullock
tunis his ready and re^tltj^s pti\ to oiaintatning
ihai ChriBiianiiy is not an original iiniqup, or
supernatural religion; but that, on the contrary,
i\ arose quite in the normal order of things, m
A natural pfoduci of the age in which it Arst appeared. Chds*
liantty* he say?, haa all the marks and signs of htiman manu-
iactute that ali the ether $yaiem& possess which were contem-
porary wiih LtA origin. IE it tenches an exalted morahiy, ^o do
EpJetetus and his kllow-Stnics. If U has a noble view of hu-
man brotherhood) &o has Seneca. H It insists upon self-conirol
and self sacrLfici^. still more doc^ Buddba. If it possesses an
extensive apparatus of rite, ceremony, and sacrament, io had
the religion of Mithra before \t.
Why. then, should ChnAtlanity alone be admitted into ibo
c^ategory of the supernatural, and its living; likenesses, Stoicism,
Buddhism, and Mithraism be thrust into the outer dsiricnesis of
the merely natural? "Christianity," argues Mr- Mallock, '" re-
garded under une of iE« a^peets, mufE necessarily present itself,
even to the most orthodox Chnstians. as a purely natural re*
Jtgion competing wiih m^ny others and not ^cnerlcally dis-
tinguishable, so far as iLs origins are concerned, from the reli*
gions of Zoroaster, of Gautama, of the neo-PEaionists. or of
Mahomet* to which evcfy element of the aupernaEura] is by
Christians indignantly denied," 'Christianity, then." he says
\u another passage, ^' even in respect to thoae details which have
commoaly been supposed to stamp it ss a thing apart, can no
longer be regarded as a religion which is alone in Jts kind"
Doubtless in the back end of Mr, Mallock's mind, a mind as
diflicull to explore u any that we know of among living men,
he holdi4 Hums purpose oi deTending Christianity in all this.
For he always wishes, he contends, not to attack reME'tm. but
I
1
every one else in tbc world is ot opinioa
that Mr. Matlock, in his recent writings is hewing AW^y the
pUUn of (aiih' But be usitiTts robu&tly that tt \f not the pil*
Urs at JiU that he is hacking, but only an unaightly tcafloldins
of futiic apologetics, creeled by recblcmindcd philosophers and
Ibeologi^ns, which is of no use whilever to religion, but TAthrr
disfigures amfl debasf^ it In (he eyes of sensible men. A^ty,
inyt he, with the whole rubbith of philosophy, theology, hittory,
ttiid Qlhicfc, th^t have been p«ckcd into ihc ^Ugomma Jidti ;
they prove nothing, and they jw« driving people iato inl^delity
tvery day.
How, then, shall we give a rational account of rcUsion ^
WhAt will this " intellectoal Accountoni'* oiler m pUcc of what
he would destroy? What arc the real proofs of faith, its
strangely overlooked defense, its genuine ^r^^ vSctor^ou* •tgu-
ment? Mr, Mallock has thu» far not adci^uately anawercd ihcAe
queadons: though he is consUnlly leading us to expect ibat
he can and wUI. We only hope that when he does ade^^aatety
answer ihctn, he wiU do the work so well that he will lead back
to Christian faith the many whom, we fear, he has estranged
from It. Meantime, not being able to wait for the uftimaic
unfolding of bis apologetic purpose, we feel obliged to paj« a
few criticiibniM upon bis recent artJcle.
To expose the reaembJanccs between Christianity and other
teUgions, with a view to disparaging the Chrisitan claim of
unique churacier and supci-naiuiai oHi^in, baa been a favorite
display of infidel tactics from the time of Celmi. Origen u«c«
words to describe that ancient adversary's method which Apply
most pertinently to Mr. Mailock htmself. "With an appearance
of fairness," says Origen, "be does not reproach Cbrtvtianity
twcauie of its origin among barbarians, but gives the Jatter A
credit for their ability In discovering such doctrinet*' (C. Cti.
Bk, I. c. lu) Especially since the rise and dcTelopraent of the
comparative study of religions, has this species of criticism been
cultivated, until to day it \i the f.>ivorJlc weapon in th« hands
of the anti-«upernaturali&t5. Thi; method of this attack b lo
reduce the apparently distinctive features of ChrUtianity. oee
After another, to a pagan original, or at least to a pagan tike-
tie49; and thus to show that Christianity h not the heavenly
thing wc thought it, but a beggarly blood- relation of mythology
and heathendom,
I
1906.] SUPSItNATU^AL CfiRISTlA^'iTY, SiQ
It ifi AW ingenious theory and, in the handfi of so clevcf a
Cimpciigncr a^ Mr. Ma.11i>ck, it looks as though it mig^ht give
ChrtfiCian apologists jl *'bad quarierof an hour" But we need
only to push the objtclion (fom *j ^iori speculations to living
realities, to break it to pieces. It is academically attractive,
but it perishes in the teat of hificory. Let us sec if this is not
true. ChnsUanity, says Mr. Mallotk. in many points resembles
Mithraism and Stoicism, Why, then, should we substantially
dilTereatJate them in respect to origin and essence, putting ore
■p^n a supernatural, and the others upon a natural Jevel ? We
are as much justiJied in maintaining thai they are akin^ as we
should be in inferring that two children who looked and dressed
exactly alike were brothers born. Against this we hold that
the two terms of our debate, namely, Christianity on the one
hand and the pagan religions of the Roman F.mpire on the
Other, are separated by a vast and vital difFerence; that they
are shown by the verdict of history to be utterly disparate
and irreducible to the same category; and that it wouTd be as
ridiculous to judge them akin, bocauae of some shreds of ex*
icmal resemblance, as It would be to conclude that a negro
child and a while child were twins, because each wore a sailor
sait aod a Tam-o'-Shanter.
Stoic virtue posfieased the prestige of the three noblest
Bftmes of antiquity, if we except Socrates. Epicletns, Marcus
Aurelius, and Seneca gave It the rccommendatfon of strict ex-
ample, the lustre of great learning, and the proiectioa of iid-
perlal power. The religion of Mithra had spread throngh half
the world when Christianity was stri»ggling to be bom. Vet
Stoicism remained utterly sterile, and Mithrai&m collapsed be-
lore the Cross, and vanished in a few generations. Granted
that Marcus Aur?li\is had lofty ideas of htiman brotherhood;
that HpictetLii warns 115 against evil thoughts; that Seneca ate
at ttie aaiui; t^jble with his slaves. All admiration to thcni lor
humane and moral sentiments 50 far ahead of their cimel
Rut what did they permanently accomplish for humanity?
or what holy apostolate did Ihey ligtt the fire and fan the
(Lame? What «acred enthusiasn^s have their names ever been
ablQ to arouse? Mithraism spread with wonderful rapidity;
ii had elaborate rites, an exclusive priesthood, and myateri-
ous fiactamenta. But has it (eft a single cuduriog impress on
human character or civiltied institutions? Has any man who
TOU LXXXll.— 34
530
W. H. Mallock.
[J«-
evef read Jls history, regfeUptl thai it hsB disappv^red, of
wished that it would return to earth } No ; neichcr Stokiem
nor MithraLsm ever grasped hold of the hearU of men. They
reveal to us a few great but solitary ligur^s, and a few spir-
itual characierbti» thai astorUh us bccAuac they stand so far
above the appalling bog of that old Roman society whkh ]u«
venal has satirized. But Ihey had no Ijfc or light or power;
atid with ulJ ihe advantflges that r'avOTabk humar cortilfCions
could f^irnish, they perished, and left hardly a trace behind.
Vet Mr. MaHock says that they exhibit as much of divtiM
and prLtvideotial purpnsr us Christinnity, the rctiKion of nearly
the whc>k of civilized mankind Let us examine that potiiioa
a little- Perhaps hisiory, which stkows the inhcr«nl hollowncu
and foredoomed deaih of the religions of Rome and Persia,
wiil tell us of the traniformin;; vitaliiy and the iinpcrt&habU
power of Ihe faith that blossomed from a Crof^ Cbrisltaniiy
entered the world absolutely desiitute of the hiiman ^idvdnla^r*
wfaic^h make n cause succeed, Its KoTinder preachrd to a few
hundred peatanti and converted half a handfnl- He gathered
sbbnut him twelve dull-witted Mebrcwg, anit i^atre ihem th« in-
comprehensible inJ9*(ion of converting the world. Then, tn what
to all human calculation waii the most sorrowful collapse of
holy hopes and pure enthaeiasmfi that the world had ever ^een,
he died desolate and deserted upon the cros«. Ri& pcnsani
missionaries, changed by aome rniTscgJous aidor, and fortified
by some new mystery of indettruciible courage, which their
Mti^tEr seemed utterly unable to bctlow on them while he
lived, but copiously poured into them Irom bc^yond the grave^
went forth to the unparalleled task he hnd appointed them.
Armed only with the n«nie of their Lord they faeed a world-
wide empire, and challenged the colossal paganism which ruled
mankind from temple, from academy, from senate- ch a mber»
And from the throne of Cssar.
The " naturalricss ^* of the situation could Inad to no oih«r
expectation than that the religion of the Galilean carpenter
would be crushed to death for its insolence; or at beit wouJd
be flung back upon its native soil to linger oit as one con*
temptlblc Jewish sect the more. Lei such Me^^ias mad Thari-
sees follow the apostles as were convinced by tht study of
the law and the prophets that the victim of Good Friday wad
the Christ, but what message could the apostles possibly de-
t906.]
Si'J^£JSXATUXAl. CfiRlSTJASITV.
531
liver to the Gcntilc world which despised the Jew, made °port
of hU law, atid ridiculed hU prophets j* The Twelve and I'aul
had nothing 10 tell except reminiscences o( Jesus, On every
naturAl ground of forming opinions and conjecturing results^
what would a mesaage of this sort avdl ? The cultured Giceki
were a^kcd in stammering speech to worship one who leU not
a line of Jitcrartirc by liis own band: <Jne whose serious aus*
terity of eximplc and precept fell like a chlJl upon the Indo-
lent, gaiety and ihe too-human love of living that for cenlurjea
had made ihdr native home in Hellas; one who peculiarly
laid himself open to the gibes of their sceptics and the Lam-
pooning of riieir satiri&[5. And as for I^e corceited KomauE,
whnc would be their answer to the plea that they should bow
the head at the natne of a man on whom thcii owo law had
indicted capital punishment?
IjOc^king merely at this problem in its origin, and closing
those page± of later history which tell how it was solved, will
Mr. Mallijck JnfoTin us what outcnme he wiiuEd feel cibligEd by
the data ol the case to predict ^ Let him with all his pres-
ent cleverness^ quite like a Greek cynic, in many reipecis is
Mr- M^Uock^with all his keen penetration, with all his honor
of (he supernatural, divested of nothing ol what he row ie
master, except aEone his knowledge of nineteen centuries of
Christian history, let Mr. Malloch thus imagine him$elf a Ro«]
man of the year loo after Christ, musing in the Kortini upon
the fortunes ol the new superstition. He knows the current
narratives of the life of Chrlstj he remembers that m his boy-
hood Peter and Paul, a pair of Jews who held pre-eminence
in the strange sect, had been killed -by Ne^ro"s order; he recol-
lects an occasional conversation that he has had with converts;
lie Ie aware Ihal the name of the Crucified is silently spread-
ing thronghout the empire. What now is going to come of
ChristiAniiy ? We think that some such reflections as the fol-
lowing would fairly express the Mallock-mind in such circum-
stances:
"Thci<r Christians are people of very edifying lile, but oJ
mOiit Abominable superAtition, They have given a noble elhlca]
ini|rulsfl to the drear decadence of these time*, and tlrcy ato
furnishing an unusual and inspiring answer to the ({uesticn for-
av«r on the lips ol the sour Koman Stoics : ' t« life worth
living?' But what an uncouth set of personalitie5 they have
S3*
IT. H, MALLOCK.
[Jan,,
creeled; and whitt grotesque idea? they profess and propagatel
Tbey iniag^inc ih&t the JewUh laborer who founded lh«ni — aed
irtdeed he i% attractive, though his Jack of learning, and hift
utter ahscnct of interest in cosmopolitan culture, will forever
keep him from the r^nk of grea^t mcn^ — they imagine Ihat Uc i«
DOW poteniially, and will become acCualty, the sovereign ol tbc
wortd \
"Poor provincial Hebrews; they mean well, and they are
doing (Eood with all their fanaticism, but funatlcism lE itoi
philo«aphy: and they cannot sec, what every deep thinker
leeB, thjil the world is built on a va»tQr dcale, and will toon be
burdened with more terrible Issues thin they dream. Evil
days Arc ahctut lo dawn. The world will he torn aAunder and
the ffuU fi-llcd with blood. Those wolves of the north, the bar-
bdTtana beyond the Danube, arc going to charge upon thia
oifing empire and cru^h out its life. Rome wiil die, and )ts
dvUlxiitton will die. And in the pre&ericc of thai catastropht,
how puny a thing will be this new jeliEion of our crude Palca-
tinian immigr^inK !
"I wonder what those hairy Aleaana will say. when the
pr©acheri of Christ tell Ihem to be meek. I wonder how
they will Answer when tiiey are informed that they must wor*
»hip a frail man of hardly a wonian's stTcngth, who sulTered
blowa in the face without return, and whispered forgivencu
(of hii murder»?rs as he died. No; the Nazarenc prophet it
not of the type to survive the approaching age of blood. As
a beautiful memory he may live long; his unselfish character
and high morU ideaf ma^y gain him «omc fragile sort of iot-
nD'^'Ealicy; buc that the vital hope^ of men should centre
about a cross of shame ^ that a defeated, broken, bleediog
outcast. A helpless innocent, should be king of this rough
world, 13 prcpogferous. His queer sect of pauper*. Jews, aad
•lavdi, will be utterly without influence on the roafs of mea,
and on the boundless ages of the future.
"Science will destroy the Chnst. if nothing else wilJ> Sct-
VrtCfl It an ocean that swallows up personaiides- PrimTtivc
peoplei hive their heroes. aT;d ignorant religions their gods,
la whom childish notions and naive expectations ^re pcrsoni-
Aad and mLdt concrele. Hue truth, selenee, phitoaophy — iheie
mighty imperioaalitiet will have their day when war£ and woes
are at An <nd; and n« Ihey grow great, they will reduce alt
1906.]
fi<JPKJi:^ATUf:Al. CHRISTfANiry.
533
poor provincials to iiisjgnilicanct. As ihc Nazarcnt hlltisdf
has aaiJ, those that are first shall be last- The words wiJi be
fullitled in himself^ In an ititelUctual age he will be ignored.
When thinkerg rule the worlds his fragmentary, Oriental para-
bles will be forgoittfn, and his peasant simpiidty will not be
efiough to gain bim admission lo the academies, whence man*
kind ia to b« taught.'*
Theic *re observations which might be made in tbe eariy
dft]r» of Chrlaiianilyi by the "natural*' tnan. Now it ib; not
merely because tho^e cxpeclatJona hftvc been surpitsacd that
woLild infer that Christianity is supernatural. Wc have no
otion of malniainlng that a duration of centuries and mil-
hORA of adherents prove, of thcmselveE, the divine origin oE stxf
reJigion ; although there is much in the unique establishment
of the Gospel which points strongly kn that ditectinn. But we
do c^ll jAttenlJon to the fact that certain drcumstancvs an<t
con^quencea of Chn^tianity's aurvivat totally baffle our naiur-
aLi«lle calculations and drive us to the supernatural for not
only a reasonable, biJt in auy sen^e an adequate explanation.
We ahnll indicate two or three auch circumstances and conse-
qucncei*
Christ £l6p^ forth upon the scene of world- history from
the door of a cjirpenter shop. To j^II appearance he ha« no
equipment of deep learning or scientific culture, and so far aft
we know, he stood aloof from purely intellectual inleicata.
Many looked upon him n^ a Gililean arti^ian singularly pure
and high-minded, whose mysterious power, benevolent life,
«Ad artleiu earnestness for virtue made him the most atttEictive
peraonality of his time. But ihjil this m^in iF.hoLtUl have con-
quered the <iviliEed world, becoming the deepest object of ita
ftciertce, the unapproachable ideal of its morality, the supreme
object of itA worship, Ilie holiest inispiruLion of its ait, the im-
pefishablo source of its highest heroism, the eternal guide and
law-giver of the human aoul, is a result which all researcheft
into comparative religion^ all exploring of Mithraifim. Stoicjem,
and Oriental mythology are completely and ridiculously im-
potent to explain
Think of the initial difficulty to ihe progresE; of Christ's teach-
iitg from the fact that he wan a Jew. No race is mote intensely
individual than the Jcwith ; none so little auEceptlble of a»simila*
tion; none probably lias more points of collision with the Aitional
5J^ - W. fi. AfAlLQCK. [Jan,,
pr«pot309ion9 oE other peoples. Yet Christ b so ctotJi^d ftbout
ivith some uniqiic and xvondcrfut univcTfia^Iity, ihat we are us-
able to ItiEtik of racial distinctions when we took upon hxm.
He is of no race, because he b of all, Greek, Roman, Goih,
Briton, Amerkan, all build their Eatih an<l hope upon him, &*
though he belonged by blood to each. He is of humanity;
btit of a humanEty without (he conditions to which mere men
niuit submit- His humaaity has attributes of the absolute.
He is all to all- \u him we see the unconditioned which
sulTers not frnm the bountiaTics of tempurai exi&tencej or racial
ofLgin, or tranaient civilisation.
In the second place, if our Jodgmenl have a purely nMur«l
t»49i^. we must adrnit that our Lord should be made ridiculous
by ihe cKtrivagant claim* of his ftfit discipies. This unJcamed
and lowly Hebrew, this gentle Child of faith, hurailtty, and
kindness, Is spoken of, in the recklees ardor of his earliest biag-
rtphers and SCh Faul. as Che Son of God, the Lo|^£, the
Eternal Word of the Most High, the world'^ Redeemer, the
OTIC in whom thr* FulEnt;^ of the Godhr^ad dwelleth corporajjy,
the one in whose name abne i» salvation for men- Now there
if nothing more fatal to the dignity of a great man than that
he shujld be comprumised by the intemperate adulation of un.
baJanccd admirers.
Highiy -colored language of that sort, Matthew Arnold would
icU u^H is one of the most harrowing symptoms of provincial-
ism a.nd ol the absence of urbanity and culture What then
£hall we sty of the terirts applied to Christ? They are the
InfiJest, mo5t extreme and awful worda ever in any literature
Of any religion applied to a human being. If they were u*ed
of the nilghtiest warrior, the deepest scholar, the holiest saint
Chat over lived, they would be a bl.-isphpmous extravagance.
For no man, remaining merely human^ rould possibly posse»
a character commensurate with them. How then will they sound
a& deMgn.nions of Chri&t?
Shall we not trcTnble lest language of ao tremendous an im*
port will disfigure him, the shy, silent, self-efladng preacher
of the interior kingdom of God? This certainly is what wc
should naturally apprehend. Yet Christ, despilo \\\* humility
and meekness of hetrt, has so impressed the world with the
pi^flrer and splendor of his sovereign spirit^ that men acknowl-
edge him as not only not falling short of, but as adequately
I90&]
Si/PERNATURAL CffR/STlA^'iTy^
hM
and completely posflcfifiing the awful ftttrjbutc£ aicnbed to him
by the Fourth Gospel and St. Paul. The Logo? from eternity,
the Light of ihe world* the Savior o£ men^ the Image o£ the
Father, are terms that are not too great fur Christ^the man
wha was a day-laborer in Naaareth, who read nothing but the
Hebrew Scriptufes, who was hooted by a mob and died Id
infamy- In the face ol a fact like th[G> ChrbUanb have &ome
right to the claim that their rellginn has a unique origin 4nii a
divine Founder; and Mr- MslIIqcIc makca rather a sorry figure
arguing for MichrVs equality with Christ,
A third feature of the victory which our Lord has won
over the world is that dcfpitc the immense progress which tnan-
kjnd ha^ made Mnce hU day^ in sdeuce, in breadth of menial
ou^Took, and in individual independence, he has not diminished,
but remains the <^cntre of the universe of morality and truth*
The Or^cco-Roman world, whereof his earthly Ufe was a parEj
the race ha^ long since left behind. Him humanity has not
left hehind. Him it hold* fast lo-day» feeling that the piU
iar$ of the world would grumble, and we should fall to chaos,
if Juii< or Naiaretii should disappear. The advances of truth
leifen not hts greatness; the growth of individuality leaves him
indispenEftble and supreme. He is unconditioned by changes
on earth and in men. He is humanity's hope and life. He iti
truth beyond our feeble and haif-^hadowed truth. He Is the
moral ideal never to be equalled or approached. He is the
model of evciy character, by likeness lo whom men wdl be
noble, women pure, children holy, homes sacred, and nations ju&t.
This is the conviction held by the best intelligence of the world
regarding Christ^ And it is a conviction too deep nnd sacred
for Mr, Mallock to dt^struy by so miserable a means a^ <:om-
paring Christian baptism with Mlthraic ablutions. A^ well might
he attempt to piy loose Mont Llanc with au alpenstock.
We are not constructing a formal argument for the divinity
of Chri«l, We are simply pointing out a few features in that
auG:u«t character, and in hie sway over nineteen centuries of
eivilixed mitnt for which our naturahsts seem to take good care
to avoid aceounling. They will run headlong after some syncre-
tUlic theory of Christianity, as Mr. Mallock does. They will
Svlie Rjjon r eite in b lancet to pagan practices. They wiH con*
dude from accidental Iikcne^$es to cfseniialidentJty. But most
of them will &ot fairly face the real issue which tie£ in ibe
53* Supernatural Christianity. [Jan.
person of Christ. They seldom study him adequately ; and still
less often do they examine into the nature and results of his
supremacy in the souls of men. The result is Chat a large pro-
portion ol their work attracts only tbe type of man who im-
agines that it is all over with Christianity because tbe twenty-
fifth of December was also the birth-day of Mithra; or be*
cause Zoroaster taught a doctriiie of archangels ; or because the
Gilgamesh epic has a Babylonian story of the flood. But such
extravagant conclusions, based on a foundation which is quite
outside the essential thing in our reHgiont is hardly worthy of
a thoughtful man's respect.
Mr. Matlock affords a Qagrant example of this precipitous
reasoning when, in the article which we have been criticising,
he draws the inference that Christianity is on a level with cer-
tain pagan systems, without having given half a dozen lines to
a consideration of the person and character of Christ. Let our
Lord be studied fairly ; let the course of his influence he im»
partially traced in the ideals and institutions of Christian history ;
and it will be seen not only that he is supreme among men,
but that human standards fail when applied to him, and human
calculations are baflled in measuring him ; for the reason that
he is the divine Teacher of ultimate truth, of absolute goodness,
and of final salvation-
Guruent Events.
i>^\\.
The aitualion. in Russia, far from
showing signs of improvement, is
worse than ever. The various sec-
'.'ittation arc still struggling' for the maaiery.
irit? counted for nothing; he li 'Only a tool
::jcn who are strjving^ to he his master, and it
who among these many cUimaiLts \b to mould
ic vast Kmpire, It U even dotiblful whether there
■ % <lislntegrition» more or less complete, of the
•■i^t th^t uiikc up the unwieldy mas^s.
I Mjimfcsto of October 30 brought no peace
agft o£ methods. Count Wicie was made Tremicr,
novo hrLS been appninted Mini^lef of the Intertor,
*llie Tsar or hy the Premier, we are not informed,
ovo is h disciple of the late Von Plehve, and an ira-
', iys. The Manifesto gave freedom of meeting and
: M. Diitnovo disperses meetings and suppressua
M ttf old; so that the concessions appear to be k
-iri. The sLnkes and mutinies and distuibancef of all
i at Last insurrections, which hfive taken place through-
ri|[th and breadth of the landn gave the government an
r not carrying out the provisions of the Manifesto ; but
ii'ip only brings home more clearly and forcibly ihe
iimdation upon which Russian liberties an resting, whcD
tfldation is merely the concession of an autocrat- The de-
af the CongresE of the j^emit'v'es, held at Moscow for the
joiag of a Conscitucni Assembly el«etcd on the basis o*
lal suffrage, appears therefore to be reasonable. The
bions made in the ManlfctEo were so many and so far-
ling in thcif consequences, that ^t first sight it appeared
J>o a mistake not to accept them and to make the most of
Dm the majority of the members of the Zsmstvo Con-
"■VCTC ri^fht in recogniEing ihc inetability of everything uihich
:adt only upon the grant of an autocrat, since he, by the same
tn^ibLc wiil by which he ^ave» can take back cither wholly
: in part The Congress therHfore,, after long debates, de-
■slatod the foniTcs^Ions unsatisfaai^ry. And refused to give 10
Count Witte the support of which he stands in such urgent
need. At the /^£t*isti'ti£ m^ made up of the more sober-minded
I
53S
CvsfiEXT Events.
[JftIL,
atid Iboughtful qI the RussUo;, cf those who have the most
important Interest in the well-being of the country, the non-
acc«ptAnce of the Constitution by the members of the C^n-
gra«B Implies the deep convicticn of those best quAliticd to
judge thut d more ^oUd b&sis for Ihc Empire's policical mstitu*
tIoD« mult be found. They hope to tind ihb basis m the wiH
of the pDOpTc, enprcMCd by mean? of a Constituect Assembly.
Wc bt>pc thai this lack of support will not throw Count
Witto into ihc arms of the advocates and the bcneRd^riec o/
the autocratic system hitherto existing. In the present welter
el parties, this is the thioff mo&t to be feared- We arc assured,
however, thai this i» iniposAJbIc, and the disafTecticn of the Army
glirei Rttton Tor this assurance- No agnrrmcnt as to what is
to lake the plice of the former system seems to be in sigbt,
but all Are agreed that something must take iu place. Mean-
while ihe Ciblnct (if so we mny calJ it) nf Count Wide is said
to be elaborating the details for carrying out the election to
ika Dmrntk, with the extended franchise granted by the Manl-
foMO of October 30^ and h^b called into il£ coun^iel that mi-
Donty of the Zemitjio Con^resa who were willing to accept the
Manifesto a; a basis. But the workingmen have gone on strik-
ing, the soldiers and saLton mutinying, the peasants tn n^ftny
|)art£ burning and destroying, as if they had no hope of any
itnprovement in their Jot. It is not, however, so easy to make
% new Constitution is X<^ put up a sky-scraper^ and it takes
eovcmi months to do that; sti wc must not be discouraged if
aflcr some six. or seven weeks everything is not settled.
The only concessions which so far have brought pftace« are
tboiC which h^ve been m^de to FinLand ; and if nothing more
came of the recent troubles, the undoing of the elaborate and
long-coniinucd attempt made by the Tsar and his advisers tc
deprive the Finna of their anr^e^tral ItbertteB ifi a thing at
which to rnjoicE- Poland has not fared so well; in fact, mnr-
lial law w^< declared throughout the kingdom, f»n the pretext
thiit the Poles were seeking independence. Tbis^ as we have
pointed out before, they have no idea of seeking; they have,
in fact, cnEtrely abandoned such a purpose. They do. however,
aim at autonomy; and .in this they were supported by the J
Liberal meaLbcrs of the ^emsH'o Congress. The attitude nf the
German Emperor complicates the situation ; for he does not wish
the Poles, whom he oppresses-, to have the extent of that op*
I
1906.]
CURKEHiT EVEfifJ^.
539
prcssifni brOEight home to them by the cortirafit. Hov far he
wa3 abk to JnlliitTnL-i? tlic Rds^ian yovprnmrnl in ils Ireatnient
of its Polish vubJGCts wc have no meanfi of knowing. How-
ever, the }fe>nstvoisls nude cominon cause with tWe Poles, A^d
the marlinL law decree ha^ been rescinded.
Not a single syllabic can be said in cJcfence of The uTierly
inexcusable and atrocious masBacrcs of Jew$ which have taken
place in acrnie fourscore towns in Russia — massacres which
were in some ca^scs organized by the Russian bureaucrats, in
all CJLI» connived At by them. The military governor io South
R»«sia^ alter Ihc massacres at Odessa had begun, on being re-
quested to use the soldiers for their repression, refjllcd : "I
hav^ orders that this freedom, for which you have schemed
and agitated^ stiall bfi tested for three days without interference
from me." He obeyed his orders, with results that have filled
XhK world w^tb horror a.nd disgust. But in explanation of the
Qdeisa m4VG4are&, correspondents upon the spot aflirm that
oeria.ln Jews inflamed the Ru^sUn^» by showing all possible
dishonor to the nitionat emblems, tearing down the national
matto. mntilatiiig the Euiperor'b portraitp declaring the reign-
ing dynasty abuii^hed and a republic established. To the
^* ikons." carried in procession by patriotic Russians, open con-
tempt was shown, Tn this way (hey pUyed into tlic hands of
their enemies, and made ii easy lor the bureaucraia to let the
hooligans laose> Their object in this was to show that the
Rrant of libeitie* by the Ttar was not desired by the Russians
theoiselveA. nnd to induce him to recall that gra.n1.
The »ituatton has been very much complicated by the strikes
of telegraph operators, as well as of many workmen of various
tr>tdcHj throuj^h wh;ch Russia was ahngi^t completely cut o^
from com muoi cation with the rest of the world. This dgcs not
seom to hftve been pr[mArliy a political strike like the firat
(*«nera1 strike; but its object was to secure adequate payment-
It greatly added, however, I" the general confusion- The seri-
Oui mutiny At Sei/asEopol, and the smaller ones at various other
pUces, And the manire^tatjnns of widespread disatTection in the
Army and n^vy. are the most sertous blows to th« rulin]^ party,
destroying their reliance on that which has been so far their
sole support — force. What the outcome will be no one can
tc]]. There ^e^ms U> be no commanding mind.
While the Z^msn'os represent the landlords, the professional,
I
S40
CVRREUT EVENTS^
tJ»n.,
and Ihe educated cTdsaes, and the stnUcs are due to working-
men, the vast population consjstJ mamljr of peasants, Tbe»e.
too, hive contributed to the general upbeavil^cropa have bc«n
ei?i£ed, mantioits have bc^n burned, several landed propnet^rv
kiJltfd, A Congress too of peasants has been hetd al Moscow,
Some three hundred delegates from fttl parts of Ru&sU were
present. How ihc/ were elected wc 3fe not toldi and what
right they had to speak for the hundred million of their class
we cannot, therefore, judge- They wisely disclaimed an appeal
to force, laying the outrages which have taken pljtce to the A
stale ofificials. Their aim they declared to be the possession '
of ihe land. The present possessors they called usurpers-
There seems to be no doubt that if the T^ar could find a means
of gratifying this desire he might, fur all the peasants would
rare, reign over (hem and everybody else as dcspoticAlty as he
pleaacd. But he will have to go farther than he has yet gone.
The rcmisEion of land- redemption does, granted in November^
and the granting of faciliEics for the purchase of land through
a peasants' bank, iithough they involve the .■-aciifice of some
thirty-tivB miihons of annual revenue, and a tolal surrender of
six hundred millions, failed to satisfy the demands of the
Congress- These concessions have been made some years loo
late. NotwithBianding the Manifesto of October ,^o^ which
granted liberty of speech and of assembly, the Frcsideni and
the members of the Peasant Congrc&s were arrcEled. They
were, however, soon released. Perhaps the best evidence of
the present stUe of RuasEa Is a/iorded hy ehe f&ct thar^ after
the fall of Port Arthur, Russian Fours were quoted at 39;
after Mukden, ai ^9;^ ; after Tiu Shima, at ^H'l , after Sevnt-
topol, at 7q, They hflvp since fallen to 74, although every
means has been taken to keep up the quotations. Count Wiite
siill remains in office, hut his fall is looked for any day; and
then the two main forces — Reaction and Revolution- — will stand
face to face. Of late there have been three governments- — Count
Wiite's, the Palace, and the Revolutionary. By a procees of
natural selection the fittest, wc hope, will survive.
The King of Spain has beeo pay* 4
OermAny. mg a visit to the German Em-
peror, and was received, of cour»e,
with all due pomp and ceremony. No change, however^ In the
It
1906.]
CCHSKf/T £y£X7S,
54r
reklions of Spain to Franc* aad Eoglan'I wiih reference to
Morocco has, so far a£ ■£ known* resulted from this visit
The strengthening of the Navy 16 the Ihing which the Kaiser
hfls most at hcBrt- The new Navy Bill has hecn published. It
provMes for an increase in the tonnage of the battleships which
have Alrcftdy been sanctiDned^ for the canstruction o1 sin large
CmiK^ra on a scale liule inferior to that of firsftclasa battle-
■hips; for a l^r^er number of torpcdo-boaia ; and fgr the build-
ing of Hubm^rmeb. Tht£ involves an additional expenditure
each year of gome two millions of dollar?. Inaamuch as the
fin&ndal condition of Gcrmmy t4 vtry unsatlifactory, there
having been deficits for the past four years amounting to some
axty miUions in the aggregate, sinct a^ the debt of the Keder-
ited States has Increased from i5 millions, in 1S77, to 875
miUion£ in the present year, tliere must be some very strong
motive for inonrnng this large addLtlonal eitpenditure (or
the Navy. The Germane wilL have to pay. if the propoeala of
the government aie Accepted, an additional sum of &oine sixty
milli<*ns a year Thrlr beer and their lobacco art to be made
10 bear part of thi? burden, duties are to be imposed upon ratU
wiy and steamboat tickets, on freights, and on receipts. On
motor-cars too a heavy import is to be laid. Death duties are
4U0 to be introduced. This additional taxation may be salu-
tary » for it will bring it home lo every one that a world-policy
cannot be indulged in withotit paying for il-
The Kaiser has made two speeches which have called forth
general attention. In the lint, addre^ed to the recruits of the
Potsdam garrison^ he gave cncouTag^ement to the wor^l gpiiit of
our times. We recngnLze, of course, the fawfulne^s of war and
its necessity; but. with Mr, Balfour, wc look upon it as a
diBoase and have some hopes that it may be extirpated ; ai not
,a Mcred and holy duty, although at times a dire necessity.
'Th« K%i»er, however. In hia address, pom ting to the alur. said:
"Vou see here an altar and on it the Cross, the symbol of all
Christians/' and then he proceeded to reEalc the story of
Prince Kug^na and the Emperor Leopold, " When the Hmpcror
gave to the Prince the marshal's baton, Prince Eugene seized
the crucifiK ^ml held it aloft with ihr words: 'Tlus shall be
our ijenetalissimo-" *' '* I expect," said the Kaiser^ "similar
tcniLments from you, I want pious and gallant soldiers in my
array, Dot mockers/' Perhaps in these our days we ou^ht to
1
j4» CUftliE?^T EV£NTS. (Jin,,
b« grateful for any recognition oi Teligion in high qtrartcrs: but '
when this recognition means its convcrtion to worldly aims, an<l
to a worldly spirit, the service retidtftcd doc»i more harm than
good.
The second speech of the Emperor was made 9X the open*
ing of ihe Reicbsiag- The chief interc&t of the speech is |h«
reference made to lEie foreign felalinris, These he declarc<t lo
be correct with all the Powers, while with xnost they were good
4iid fr[end])'. The Powers with whom the Eimperor's relations
were not good or (rJcndly but correct were not tncntion^d, but
France And alao Kn^Und were obviously meant. We leirn
Irom the speech that ihe Kaiser supported President RooscveU
in hl« ctTorts to bring about the peace of Portamouth. While
lie declares the peace of the German nation lo be lo him a
mitter oE sacred concern, he complains of the cxiaience of a
en i^ con caption of German ideas and of prejudices against Ger*
man industry. The Morocco question arose, ho declared, from
the endeavor to settle, without German co-opcraiion, AlTair» \Vk
which German intereisls were involved. And he goes on to
say that tendencies of this kind, though suppressed at one
point, may reappear at another; and (hat even the iigcs ol J
Ihe iLinc^ make it a duty to strengthen the defences of the ■
Empire against unjust attacks. In France the itpccch was re*
garded partly as a veiled threat and partly as intended to Is- A
fluence the Reichstag in view of the coming naval eredfls. The
attitude of the Frcncli people towards Geimsny has become
one ol invincible distrust, with a quiet and firm detcrini nation
to watch Hnd watt. In England there are not a few who be-
lieve thnt Germany his adopted as a whole, or is likely to
Adopt, that hostility which n avowed by a section of tta pretj.
Meetings have been held in England to disavow ihis distrust
of Germany- It certainly is not widespread ; bt^t chit il should
be thought necessary actively lo counteract it, shows that per-
fect confidence does not exist- There is no doubt that Ger-
mHny ih the enemy of the trtUaU t&rditik between France and
England, and that the Emperor ]ast summer did all in His
power to destroy it.
fiaron Fejervary's proposal lor the
Austria. extension of the luj^Mge in Hun*
gary has had the erfcct of caus*
lai; t demand for a like extension in the Auairian dominions of
I
t9ofi.J
CUltRENT EVSNTS.
543
Ihe Emperor- King- To thU denanf^. ilthough involving roany
djflicultJeB, oil accotint of ihe nuniefOiia nationalities of which
Ihese dominion* are composetl, the government paid prompt
attention, Bardn Gaiitsch. the Austrian Prime-MiniaicrH an-
nounced that th« govcniinriLt would undertake tlic wotk and
would set no bounds to the political movemcnl for sutlrage
Klortn; that :t might proceed unhampered in the press and in
public meetings. Meetings have accordingly been held in
many parts of the Empiie. The niO£t impo&iii^ poiUicai
demonatrJition th*t ever look place in Vienna was orgoniited
by the Social Democrats in favor <A universal suffrage. More
than Joo.ooo workingmen and ^women marched ten abrrnet in
silence for nearly five houra pa^t the House of Parliament.
Czech and German, Slovene and Italian, Kuthcne ind Polish
workmen united their Forced. The definite proposals ol the
government are to be introduced next February, and are
ba»d on the abolition of the atria »y£tem and on the prin^
ciple of universal sufTiage. These proposals, so far as they
are known, seem to meet wirh the approval o\ the people, but
mtb the opposition of those whose privileges will be curtailed.
In l^Eungary the situation has not mateiially changed. The
Ministry ocL:upie-t an unconatiiutional po^illon; taxf^s are ^tJll
levied, as they have been for some time past, without due
parliamentary authority; in some places thete are two set& of
officiiUs, one appointed by the government, the other elected hy
the people- Anarchy or despotism seemed the only altcma*
tives Jeft, ft few weeks ago. The Fejervary Cabinet was pro-
ceedini: on x\\v highroad to despotism ^ resistance t» it whs
becoming national. Brighter hopes, however, have dawned
more recently. There is now a prospect of a modus vivtrrJi
I beinfE found. M Kos&utht the leader of the Independence Party,
which is twice as numerous as the rest of the Coalition, has
' accepted univcrjial EufFrage as proposed by the fi^vernnient.
He looked upon it as his duty, when the King olTered a
krl^hl to the people, for the people not to oppose the realua>
llDn of that right. He insists, however^ Chat this reform must
K carried out by a consiitutional ministry, and that conse-
quently Baron Fejervary must resign. The Hungarian Parlia*
merit meeti in December, and there are better hopes of its be-
in^ able to find a solution of a k|uestion which is endangering
the existence of An$trJa as a great power.
.544
Ct/HRENT EVe/^TS.
[J«>-,
I
The combined action of ihe SIX
MaceJoala. Powers againfl Turkej' has Ird »
certain chsjiges being made in
financial control which we hope will contribute to the improve-
ment of the candition of the CLiristUns who arc siill subject
to Turkish oppression. One effect has been Iq m&ke all the
great Powers, inalead of Ruasra and Austria, the active pro-
tectors of the various races in the Balkans- Tbcre is some
reason to think* hou'ever, that these various rAces arc their
own wor^t enemies. That it shouM he so is, of course^ due
to Turkish miBgovernment ; and noi oniy lo misgoverTim^ni,
but to active promotion on its part of the national rivalrici.
But, 3s things are, Greek ma^s^acres Hjlgarian and AibanEan>
and all of the mafi/ various races act agamst one another more
readily than they do against the common enemy. And as
the Christians have fallen away from the Catholic Church,
and each race has its own National Church, religion only ac-
centuate; their difference*. The efforts of the Powers, there^
(ore, may allcviale but cannot remove the stale of things. Tbia
can only be done by the appointment of a government Btroiij:
enough to ke«p the peace between the contending races and
churches, or by an equitable division of the whole country
between the disputants.
The chief anxiety of the French
France. people has bet-n their relations with
Germany; much less attention has
been given to what is of far greater importance — the ^epara-
tLon of the Church from the State. This is now an accoro-
plished fact; the Bil! having passed the Senate on the 6tb of
December, after a few weekf' debate, by iSi votes to t02,
and having been ofli;i3lly proiuulgaied on the next day.
The Con&eil d'P.,tat is noiA' at work on the details of its
application, It w[ll take about three months to complete >tt ■
task; until then the admiEiIstrative relations between Church
and State will ri^main as they have been hLlhertn. Then the _
new era will begin. What the eSect will be cannot, of course, |
be forcEoId. Those who are In favor of the dise^tablishineAE
of the Anglican Church have been watching the proceeding;!
ol the French Partiamcnt with great interest; they have been
inspired with greater hope of ^ucceaa in their own oue* [a
fact, the Welsh Liberal membefs have inflUBurated a, move-
mctit for imn^dutc ai:tion in Uvor of Welsh diGcj^t^bLishmcut,
during th« coming «kctioii8.
M. Di^roulcde, aftrr Ills return from exile, U sparing no
effort to bring home to hia fellow-countryman the $*riou5 dan-
ger of A war with Gcrmmy. The recent action of Germany,
h« declares, was an attack upon the national independence, an
effort to make her a subordinate ally. The cu atoms- union ad-
vocated in Germany^ and supported by some Frenchmen* wo^tld
speedily reduce his compatriots to the position of taxpayers
of GcTinany, Thtrc are, ht believes, only Iwo solutions open
to Franec in the grave criaia in which she finds herself — she
nmtt either kneel before Germany, or seek the support at
England. Neutrality would expose her to the enmity of both.
Alliance with England h the only way in which to suspend,
or at all cvf^tits to retard and repel vietonously, that sudden
a|{gression of the German Emperor, which he looks upon as
fanmLrLcnt- Other prominent Frenchmen are slilT more deapond-
9fit. M. Cleraencoau asserts that there is no way of living at
peace with William 11. for a single moment- War is prefera-
ble to a peace so deplorably agitated as is the present. Kcver
before have the people across the Rhine taken so much trou-
ble to ma Ice them^clveb tntolerabJe, Prominent members of the
Society lor International Conciliation are sending in their resig-
nations, on the ground that the constant preparation for peace,
advocated by it* is (he way to encoiirage war, The outlook is,
indeed, dark, when action of this kind h taken.
The ministerial crisis threatened by the sensational reBigna-
tion of the Minister for War was averted by M. Rouvier, who
warned tht: Assembly that »uch an event would imperil the
passing of the Separation Bill, The democracy of France treats
iti servants with but scant respect; the Gcneralis«iimo of the
Army has been placed under confinement for repealing to an
outsider a private conversation with a tninlslcr If this indicates
the determination to make the civil authority supreme over the
nilitary, the country is to be cnngratulaied.
^^^ For in Spain yet another Minif^Try
^^^^K SpAln. has {alluTi, Hnd its AilT watidueto the
^^^" inability of the Premier to control
certnin army olTlcera, Certain articles which appeared lu the
TOL. LXlXir.~5S
546
■T EfSyTS.
Ih
prcsa of Barcelona ??cdtcd the high indlgnition cf tho&t w&r*
like spirits, and uking the law into their own hand£ they pro-
CAEiicd to wrcAk til Elf vengeance upon (he (mnrniei) editorf*
ThU seciDs to have excited the feelings of the dtixens lo such
an extern that riots took f>Uec; and the Ministry, not havioig
been able to deal with the matter etiectuallyt resigned, A new
Ministry ha^ been formed belonging to the same party, and,
it is understood, adhering to ihc same foreigo p^^licy with
reference to France and England as its predeceuor.
Norway has elected it* king, ftad
rforway. »o &ct« out on il« ejtittence aa a
separate natirjn fully equipped for
the fuiure^ The first pcfton to congratuEale Prince Cbarka ol
Denmark (a^ he was th-n styled) was the on« who would faim-
acU in the expected course a{ events have been the Kin^ — the
Crown Friaee of Sweden, He came to Copenhagen for thit
purpose. The new King hai^ chosen the nai:ie of Huikott
VIL,, in order to assocLAttf hiirtaclf with the Norway of old;
tor.before the Union of Calma-r, at the end of the fourteenth <tn^
tury. Norway was & diatinct nation and Haakon had been Ibc
name of leveral uf il^ most distinguished kingt. The name is,
therefore, chosen in ofdcr la link the Norway ot olden times
with the new Norway of to-day. Bverything began auipicicutly.
The King, the Queen, and their little son — newly named FHoce
Olat^made the best of irapres&iofis on their suhjectK when
they arrived at Christianla, The quiet dignity of the King
and his manly simplicity especially commended him to them.
Before acquirint; any regal power he wa& called upon to tako
an oath to observe the ConaEitation, ThU he did in the fol-
lowing terma: " I promise and swear that 1 will govern the
Kingdom of Norway in accordance with it« Coiutitutlcn and
laws, so help rac God and his Holy Word ! " He recognife* that
he is subject to the law; and the peaceful w&y in which the
^epAfsiion from Sweden ha& be«n accompHahedt without a drop
of blood having been shed, showrj the vffcct of the re<|;ii of
law upon the character of a people. The conlratl aJTorded
by Russia, whi^re it i& not law but a person thai rulea, ahowi
a» clearly the etTect of perton^l rule.
IRew 35ooh6.
No man in England, i! gota with
EFGItSH MONASTIC LIFE, out aaying, U so well equipped to
By Abbot GH3quet> dcscnbc monastic Eifc as Abbot
Gasqiitil- Both a£ monk And schol-
ar, he posfitrsscs tfxtTRordinary iiuaEiiicalioiis ior ^uch a vol>
ucne* fts hi has just wtltlcn, and it has increased the d*;bt we
owe \i\m. Tile £uhjccE of thi& worit U a hoiucly one, being
nothing els« than ihe daily life of Knglish monks and nuns in
pre-Rcformatron dAySn but out right rrvcr^nd and scholarly
auLhoi toucb«4 this theme with so many side-lighls of rare
Information, that his essay becomes not merely a monastic
h^rariam, or catdogue oi monastery oHitlals, but an historical
and even a paycholcgEcal study of a great and predominant
feature of andeiLl KnglTsh Catholicigm.
Running through th« severer material, is a pleaatng thread
of humor, aft in the description of the quarterly blood-lciibg,
to which the medr^val monks had to submit; and in the ac-
count of the common rasrira. when the monks, facing each
Other tn two lines as if in choir, aat down to have their ton-
sures ah;ivcd, chanting psalms the while; and linalty in the in-
cident of the biihop'i vi^iiatioii of a certain convent, wherein
the MveroBl complaint he had to listen to was one nun's objec-
tion to the beer. It is ft very real and life-like picture that
Abbot Gasqu el paints fur iis, and it show^ that those old-rirne
T«Ligious were a robust and penitential nee. who spent their
time in praiaiug GoJ and in bcnefitirLg mankind.
IK THE LAND OF THE
STREKUOLtS LIFE.
By Abbs Klein.
The Abb(^ Klein's bookf is cerEain-
iy very readable. Of course it
cannot be, and doea not profess
to be, anything but a mere sketch
of whai most Impressed him dur-
ing* his brii;f visit to this country; and he principalJy occupies
himself with what he had special opportunities for seeing, and
thus keeps fairly clear ot the commonplace^ so usual in books
of travei. Moreover, his book is very pleasant fur Amrricana
*Jt*/rji,t Mm^hu f-fp- riy Alitor rrcufiiiirt, Nnr Vfrrlr- ntafJSerIirol1i«n.
|/«(ir L^f4 f/ m* Sl'twy^tu Lt/t. H? jVlilV TcNi KlviCi. Wi()i Potii'^'ttnli Vli^k
Chk4|g: A. C. McCiuf^ a Cu.
5*8 JKff»' £oaJCS. [Jin..
lo r«ad, since th« Abb^ did not come to find f&ulc, but rather
to note the good qualities of our people, which he ifaoughc
specially worthy of imiEation in his own country.
lie cime here not so much to see Aaicrlci, as to get ac-
quainted with Americans, an^ the pEsr&anaT «ide of eveiylhioK
is prominent throiighoiit; so much so that the book seems,
when one has read it, almost libe a series of ixitervjcws; thou|;h
there is. indeed, a great deal bcEide this. Of course the author
WAA ipecially inlerested in the condition and working of the
Church in this country, and collected a great deal of infornift*
uon about it.
His ot)S«rvHlvans on this and other matiers were^ consider-
\xtg the drcumjTariceF, remarkably accurate. He makes oq«
father ogregious error^ in staling calmfy that the transatlantic
Unen pass under the Brooklyn Bridge j but really this is iin
exccption-
The Englifih of the translation ts also very good. Her«
agaiiii however, we have juEt one big complaint; namely, the
continual reference to members of the religious orders as " re-
ligionists, " How in the world he got the notion that they
were ao called tn English i^ a myMety.
The book is very appropriately dedicated to Tresident
Roosevelt, and the typography and illustrations are very fine.
Anything ih«1 throws light on
THE PASTORAL MIKISTRV France at the present day is in-
OF FATHER OLIER. tcresting and timely, even if U
By G. Letouraeau. only recalls well-known facts. Too
many, however, seek to understand
the actual situation, and forthwith to don the mantle of the
prophet of evil things, who yet have learned but slightly the
lesson? of the past. We welcome, therefore, a book* that
brings us back to the beginning of the Catholic reaction In
France in the seventeenth century, and by its record of the
glorious work done then by a devoted band of priesrs, gives
UB *'aomG reasons of hope" lor the France of the twentieth
century.
The troubles of the French Church did not begin with thw
advent of Combes or Waldeck- Rousseau, nor even with the
1906,]
NEiy SOOKS.
549
Rcvalutionfstf or phiUsopfies. Religion was in a sad way long
before rheif time; but It had ojic bright^ though brief period,
in%d« illustrious by ihc nantas of St. Vincent de Paul, Cardinal
d? Berulle, de ConJren. OHer> Eudfs, and. somewhat later,
Boofdftloue* Boasuet, Fi^neion^ And many others. These great
XQ9n not only ahcd glory on the Church of France, but helped
to dilTufie A Christian spirit and to add SDulfi lo the kLiigdom
of God How Farher Olier conUibuled to rfjuverste religi<>n
in the French capital we leirn, in pari^ from Lhis book of hid
auece«sor in the parish of Saint Sulplce.
We doubt if there were as many practical Christians In
Prince in Father Olier's lime as there arc at ihe present mo-
ment; and U certainly would not be easy to point lo an im*
menfie pariih to-day) where religion is at so low an ebb aa he
found it on entering upon his dtiiics as pastor of Saint-SuU
picc. The fau&Gur^ S:. Girmah was the resort of all that was
low And vilft in Paris: religion was not nnly noioriously neg-
lected there, but openly insulted. So low was it£ moral and
religious toine, thai we can safely say the worst jtarish in any
American cJty, in comparisoti to it. would have a claitn to le-
apeciAbie standing.
And yet* under the Influence of Father Olier, this aban-
doned parish became the mo5i religious quarter of Paiis, And
it bas ever thus remained through two hundred and fifty
years, lo thii little volume. M. Letourneau £how$ us how this
«rOAt ttork was inaii^urated and cairied out- The tfTective
nethods of evangelization d<> not vary much from ^^ge to age,
and the most zealous and up-to-date American priest will 6nd
his beet, most modern ways and means anticipated by this
Parisian cur^ of long ago. The secret of success is ever the
«am« — an intelligent comprehension of the needs of the par-
ish, and entire devatodness flowing from n deeply rcHgioua
Knse, Wo see this young pastor (he wait only thirty-lour years
eld on taking charge) dividing and subdividing \\h ImmcnEe
pan'ih and asiigning a priest to each district, establishing a
catecheticAl school in every section of the parish, so that no
child would have far to go, organising the work of these
•chooU, and pUcing Aeminari^li^ in charge of the c]a&&cE» gath^
ering together for instruction, at one time tbo domestic ser-
vants, at another the laboring men. at another the higher clastes
of the parish, who needed tlie ktiowkdge of the truth no less.
S5*» ^^^ 'VffW 300/CS. [Jan-,
and, in fiety endeavoring To supply the special needs of every
soul under bis care.
Thus WAS ihin worst of parishes rcgcnetattd ; and the wotk
there accompUshed farbjd« dcspaji of any situaitjon- When
Fr»nce tahss up ipostlcf of the sianip of Talhcr Olier and Sl
Vincent t\c Vau\, who went out antong the people, th« hour of
her r^eneratioQ is at band; aod tc can come in no other way.
W# mu4C reeogftiie, however, that the present si!i;a(ion is more
dIAicull. for Catholic traditions in France are much fainier aow
than in Father OIi«r*3 daf.
Th« pre»Qt volume sen-cE efTectively to recall these lesions
4iid iatjilre their hope- It i&« however* the work of a bu^y
pastor, haf «Tight clain to literary tncrir, and a6i)s little to our
kttowlcd^ oi lis ft«bject Its scory Is better told In Healy
TtHBfwoa's atJmirablr ti/t of JeoH-Jacquits 0/ifr,
In the new edition ol the Ancren
TBE BfUlVS* RULE. Riwle,*we have a most convenient
and readable form of that Umoui
WoHc which, beside h<tng the nobJett prcse monument of liiir-
t«<nth CMitvry fiagltsb lilerature, is an eTcceltenC sample of the
UHiitual books by iseanii of which (he reiigLoua life of Medinrval
En^Uml vrat nourubed and spread. Written for three recluses,
probably by Richard Poore, Lord Bishop of SalJsbur>, it givci
1 detailed description of the duties and defects of the c]«» to
which its flr>l readers belonged, speaking uiih such dlreciAe^s
ftwl Hiitish Uunlneis as to make the good And bad pobtibilitits
of the anchorite vocation stand out very plainly indeed. For
the av«T«^ vodcm reader Its primary JnierEst wil], no doubt,
be of a IJterary or historical order ; though it contains tine ntid
livfiy i|Hrilual teaching for Huch as are patient and experienced
«ii«>ttffh to pierte through an exterior which we must acknowU
tttt* to bv, for the iBOSt part, unsy ni pathetic and — accordrn);
to nke {9t s>i)ueaniish) modern staiii^acds— fri;(]i]ent3y coarse-
The present edition reprints from a Camden Society tract
th« ItmniUtiMi of the Riwlc made «ome fifty years ago by the
K«v. J«««* Morton- Some slight changes have been made
w^ what Miurv the editor does not say. An Ictroductlcn
«t WHX\t ttttaiy p^C^*- hy the scholarly Abbot GaAquet, pro-
Ma ^teLHB ^TfeA J/tfJfwMA Bf Jf not Mon». ViuA bi^
I
Xeh^ Books. iSi
IFidfifl the reaJef with all the information necCfisary for a
proper sppreciaiion of the CTigin and purpose oi the Riwie,
I
I
This pamphlet* Is a /ruil of Ihc
DEVOTION TO THE SACRED controversy which, a year or more
HEART. ftgo, was carried on in ihc London
Sy Ft. Bull. S.J. 7}ibh-t,ihc ^ffflM, and ^oioe other
pcnodka!^, on the credence to be
«tuch«d to Ibe revelations of Blessed Margaret Miry AUcoque,
and, parlicularly, on the authenticity of the Twelfth Promise in
fftvor of the devotion of the Nine Fridays.
After briefly touching upon the scope and excellence cf the
devotions to the Sacred II earl, and the crcdibilily of the reve-
lations. Father Htijl considers the eleven promises in general. Tn
their interpretation, he says, care must be taken to avoid brute
literalism. Conirion sense suggests *' that Ihey are not intended
as almighty guarantee*^ arranging a iort of miraculous dispense*
tion of the world, and acting like charms and lalismflns revers-
ion the order of cauiaiion." "They would rather indicate an
indeterminate statement of fact, va^tie in il^ appHcationi but
definite in it» tendency; rrx,, that, though in the various eir*
cum^Ufices referred to, Christ does not pledge himself to work
miracles by virtue of the promi^es^ still some &pi ritual and,
postibly* temporal advantage will be an outcome of the de<-
votion practised,"
The twelfth promise, he teaches, is conditional: tlie implied
condition ii that wc do not abandon our general good pnrpoie
of living weJI And serving God faithfully. "We must win final
pcnevcrancc piecemeal, by persevering "n good works tfay by
day/' He lay* dawn the necessary Cfiutioii that "in onler to
Avert the poiaibilily of the promise being taken in ao absolute
f«nsE by ciiildrcii, and to satisfy those u^hose critical instinet
is offended by the promise taken alone, the text should never
be circulated without tome introductory explanation."
Father Hull, who writes in a epirit of kindliebt charity be>^
Itlting the claims of the devotion which he advotate*. has at-
lached due weight to tTie criticisms leveLed against the absolute
cburactcr which was dleged to have been, lomelimet, a»igntd
to the promise when it was presented to the faithful; so we
• p,-^i^ ft- *\t S-ffW //**** ay *!■ H*», Ero»« R. HuJl, S J the Cdiholl* Tmli
i
153
JVStK Books.
[J^-
LECrURKS AGAIKST SCEP-
TICISM.
By AveliDg ftnd Gerard.
may consider bip excellent vxporitioc to be an end of tbccon*
irovcfsy,
Convinced of the Ticccssity of do-
Ing Eomething towards cornbating
tbe tpread of Eccpticism dmongaU
dashes <if sockly. through the
medium of popular radonaliatk
llUra,ture, some priests of Westminster inauguraUd, East winter,
a serlefl of lectures thnt shotild pretenl & popular exposilion tA
the philosophic ftrguEQcnts for the chief basic moral and religious
truths- Six lectures were delivered duriikg the present yc&r.
One, on The freedom fff tfte W'Ui^ was recommended lo our
readers in a previous issue. Ti«0 others* have just been pub-
lished. In one oE tbcm the edjtof of the series has accom-
plished the dlfijicult task of presenting, !n a brief yet clear and
attractive form, the scholastic argument for Che immoriAlity
of the »our based on the validity of the concept of substance
and the ^piritualily of thtrughl. In the other. Father Gerard
turn* the tables on the frec»thinker9 by demonsirating that they,
who charge bdievcis with surrendering ibeir reason to the
bondage of baseless assumptions and prejudices, arc themselves
compLctf^ly doTninatei^ by unwarranted prepossession i; in their
Attitude towards religious truth.
Each volume has two appendices, one consisting of solulrons
to difiiculties and objcclion& thai weic propose*! by members
of the audiences to whom the lecture was delivered; the other
being a select liit of works recommended as bearing on the
topic in hand. Il is to be hoped Ihrtt the course of lectures
will be continued until the scries covers all the fundameaial
qucsuons of phtloEOphy. The most efFectlve way to counteract
the unbelief of the day \s not to allempt the almost endless
task of confuting separately every form of rationalistic error thai
appears, but to expel error isoti\ the m^nd by the prCfsntatioa
of truth.
CBRISTIAIi SPAIN.
By Ledercq,
When, with kcbI and enterprise
deserving of unstinted praise, ibe
publishing hc^ui^e of Lvcoffrc un-
dertook to realise the project,
originally suggested by Leo XIII., of brln^^tng forth a univer«al
ttD. M^Ufit e-nT-Thn£it. b/ ftc J. (Ifrnffl. ^,J,
1906 J
New Books,
553
cccksmticft] hUtory that^voutd reflect the progress of criiiciam,
the immense lield ^^i mapped out into divisions, each of which
wfts lo be treated by a cotopEient scholflr in an independent
volume. The African church was alloiied to the Benedictine
moak> Dom Lci::lErc<], who produced on ihe subject a study that
h&s won high approbation in the academic cirf^les of France
and Germany. The sccoTid contribution* to the series, no l^ss
than the former, i^ worthy of the grand traditions oF the fiene-
dictrne order.
The period covered extends from the establishment of Chris-
tiimiy ia Spain to the Arab Conquest, Dom Leclercq. in con-
formity with the scope of the aeries, has produced, not a text-
boolc» but a work of hiiuti ^tistign^mtnt. With Ihc exception
of ihc recently discovered works of PriacIILian, which the writer
has turned to account by soiLening somewhat the Jurid colors
In which hii foet painted the hercslarch, all the documentary
and moatimenia] evidence for (his period have long ago been
gllhered and ciltically appreciated. The exposition of details,
too, hoa also been sufRcienlly carried out^ Aware (hat in these
reBpecis there was but little need for supplementing his pre-
decessors, Dom Leclerc^t has turned his attention to setting
forth the significance of the whole and the dominant charac*
tcrisiics of the time, and to demonstrating the presence, during
the initial period, of some strands that run through the entire
web, and serve to determine the pattern that U woven into the
history of Spain.
Throe elements are salScnlly brought out. The first is the
intcUectuitl narrowness that marked the period, and Its penury
ol thinkers. The next is the national character, harsh, violent,
and extreme in action, prone to cruelty under slight provocA-
tion, proud, seif-aati&fied, and stubhornj defiant, prompt to sub-
stitute force for argument, courigeous to fanaticiEm, equally
ready to turn out a m^rtyf or a persetutor, The third phe-
nomenon €n which Dom Leckrcq lixes our notice is the ex-
iiience of a State religion, and its conscquencesn Slate reli-
gion, he remarks iricidentany, h no invention of the Middle
Ages; ii goet back to Theodosiiis, and beyond him; it is a
legacy of the pagan world. This union of Church und State,
Co-operating with the paychologic influences above mcrlioncdi
did not prove an unmixed blefising for religion. The identiii*
5S4 -New Books. [Jan-.
catton of CKtirch and State resulted, our author fihows, Ed
closing religion to all metaphysical and moral speculation, so
that it became entirely absorbed by ritual and polemics.
Churchmen, Jired with fanaticism, sought conversions by any
means, and at any price. Without any pretense or disguise,
they invoked force to propagate the religion of peace and love,
and trampled the fallen adversary in the dust: " Arians, Luci-
ferians, Priscillianists, OngenLsts, are treated by the Councils
exactly as the heterodox will be treated by the Inquisition.'^
Wherever occasion calls for it, Dom Leclercq displays a re-
freshing independence of judgment and a disinterested love of
truth which strengthen him to ignore prejudices and prepos-
sessions in his distribution of praise and blame.
Under the guidance of a person
FRAMCISCAH HOMES. of artistic temperament, and pos-
By De Selincourt. sessed by a genuine, reverent love
for the saint of poverty, we make,
in this handsomely tinished book,* an enjoyable, instructive,
and edifying pilgrimage to the places hallowed by their asso-
ciation with St, Francis, We are occasionally reminded, now
by a passing stricture on monasticism, or again by a contra-
distinction drawn between the work of St. Francis and the
work of the Church, that our guide does not share the faith
in which the povtrello gloried. In some instances, too, one notes
a failure to catch the Catholic significance of deeds and words.
Nevertheless, as we listen to our writer detailing the stories
associated, on the authority of good old Brother Leo — the later
chroniclers and biographers have failed to obtain recognition
here — with the old dwelling places, the chapels, villages, woods,
and ravines around which linger memories of that great awak-
ening, we are considerably helped to a deeper and more vital
understanding of the lives of St. Francis and his close com-
panions. And, rejoicing at the general and the many particu-
lar tributes paid to Catholic sanctity, we are satisfied to regis-
ter an internal dissent from the occasional observations at which
St. Francis would have shaken his head.
Htmtf eflht Firil Franciicans ik Ombria, tie Burden tf TnjtoMjr. itmd lAe Ntrllif^
Marihes. Bj B^^iyl D- de SttJacourl. Wiih Jj ilLuscraiions trcm ptioiagnpha, Nev York.:
E. P, DuElon £ Cd.
•906.]
New Books.
JSS
Students of echookrafl and trach-
THE EDUCATIVE PROCESS, ers will find (hat Mr- Baglcy^a
By Bagley. eiaboratc account of the procc**«
of education" repays careful Study.
He enters in detaU into the psychology of txperience— its ac-
quisition; its play in habit, in the formaiion of concepts, and
in judgment; the organliation and recall of experience- the^
transmission of experience aTid the technique of teaching. In
the introductory section, dealing with the function and end of
education, Mr- Bagley devotes one chapter to the elhkal end
of education. He adversely criticises the "bread and bcitter
aim *' ; " the culture aim '* ; ^* the harmonious development
Abn"; and the "moral aim"; all of which he rejects in favor
of the "social aim," This one. he holds, U inclusive of all
the others, even of ilie moral aim, because, "'generally gpeak-
tug, the moral standard i« the social standard." Obviously this
view x& based on the assumption that cilher the individual has
no ethical value, except what attaches to hitn as an atom in
the socii! miss, or at lease none of which education is to take
tccouni- But if Ih9 unit (s valueless in itself, of what im-
portance ean the totnl he ? The sum of a line of Ecro? stretched
to infinity is — zero. The philosophy which inverts the relation
of man to society, making man a means and society the end,
finds lEAeH at a loss when it has to give its reasons for assign-
ing any transcendent value to the vrelT-being of society, be-
yond the "bread and butler" csiimatc.
We foutid Mis£ Monieiro's vo!-
THE SIBYLS. ume| on the interesliug subject
By MoDtPiro. of the Sibyls a rather puzzling af.
fair. For, wtiile in the earlier
pages wc are lold that the Sibylline predictions are genuine
prophecy, so that only an infidel cntjci^m cnuld mainlain ihe
contrary, we are informed later on that ibe famou? Oracles
should not be talcen too seriously, and should, in fad, be re*
gardcd only as a literary ouriitsity. To (eli Ihr Uutli, ihls
book, from the point of view of criticism and scholarship, is
worchltfss. The Wva^ of the SlbyU which it relntes Are the
ftnaDirfiTnrat Tifltnlng. MonUfiqMitn S'ArmAl Nflinol- N'>-Lv\ark. TIid MacinUEui Com*
?**!■
\AMDnid*iidtkt&i9vtiSt/. Br Midvu Muatetn, ai. L«iil«l B, HtvAci,
f
556
NEiv Books.
!)*<>-.
vcTJest Tnytholog7 ; and the iriaTvelcius pr«dicti9nf attHbut«<l to
the pagan prophctcsGca have no basis but credulity. It it tru«
the Sibylline Oracles coniain description*; g\ Jtwish and Chris-
tiao buitef, whicli would be truly miraculous if wriitcn by
priestesses of Apollo ccniurSes before Christ. It \t true» alto,
that some of the Fathers, notably Lactancius, Juitin, 4ad Au*
gustinc, laid great %tre&j^ tipcn the apologetic value of the
Oracles, and considered them divinely inspired. But ihe whole
labric of mJrack tumbles to pieces when we remember thai
critical £tudy bsH proved that some AlrxRudrian Jews wroic
the oraclci coQi^erning JudaUm, and aom« Chrutian hand com-
posed the SibylUjic accounts of Christ aitd Chii&liantty.
This elementary piece of information &e«niE Dever to have
eome within the consciousness of the aiithat of this volume.
As for the Fathers, all we caa say is they were grossly dc»
ceived. However it happened that fo manifest an imposture
cDuld have deluded mer like Augustine and Justin, the fact
remains that it did delude them. There are & few classic ia-
aiances of creddity in the pagca of the Fathers, of which the
Phu^nix fable is the most amazing, with tbe bdtef in the SibyU
A fairly good second.
If any (indent wishes to investigate the extremely attractive
subject of the Sibyls, we advite him to study scientific sources,
such as Gf^rer, Hilgenfcid, GefTcken. ar.d K:«ul[»ch.
When Lyman Abbott's book oa
TBB CHRISTtArf MlfftSIRT. the ministry* touch«« upon mat-
By Abbott. ters of doctrine, the Catholic reader
naturally l^nds it ln&ulTic!ent and
censurable* Particularly in defining tbe nature of authority,
Dr- Abbott seems to fslt Jnio the prevalent but mischievous
itoliOG that an authoritative church puis some obsUcIe be*
tween the Boul and God; whertas a free thurch leaves ihc
human spirit full liberty to commune with its Creator directly
aii4 simply. The function of authority and crganitaiioo is
simply to preserve uk from V0L;aries, and to treasure up lor
our benefit the manifold ipiriiual «3(periencts of pa&t age», not
to check true growth, true liberty, or true piety. Tbe distinc-
tion between authority and non-authority is not where Dr.
* TtU CMlA^i ASitbiry. ^j Ljrman AbbalL CoiKw uid Kca Vert: llcatpMB.
1906,1
ATjf ft* SOOI^S.
557
Abbott seems chiei^y to put it. But when th« author describcf
the moral and spifilu&l quaLilications of the preacher of the
Gospel, he has some very noble and inspiring pages. His plc»
for sincerity, aimpliciLy^ and courage" his sharp censure for
weakj cowardl/i stilted, or sensational preaching^; his exhorta-
tions to go back to Chriet, until, by meditating on his a]U
perfect character, the preacher of the Divine Word shall touch
hifi iips to ih? divine fire; his in^ist^nce en robu£t manhood
k3 a foundation for a public ministry — are all fknety conceived
and vigorously expressed, and perhaps wtll be tound useful
and helpful by priests themselves.
SERMOWS,
By Father Pbelan.
A criticism frequently urged against
many volumes of writien Ecrmons is
that the discourses are too vague,
abstract, and bookish : that they
seem 10 have been composed without any reference to the
needs of the congregations for whose benefit, presumably, they
4re ultimately intended. They read like monologues or medi-
titions, in which the fcgular rythmical return of mf dtcf
brethren fails to give them th? semblance of living thoughts
addressed to concrete men and women. The sermons of this
volume* &re no* open to this stricture. Take any pa£c in it
at random, and before you will have read very far, however
sluggish your imagination may be, you cannot help fancying
that you are listening to a strong, energetic preacher, fluent
of tongue and liberal of gesture, addressing a representative
American congregAlion, whose virtues and faults, needs and
temptations, he knows with the knowledge that has come
from personal acquaintance* He takes Ehe Gospel of the
Sunday, as authoritative tradition recommends, for hie text.
Bui he has no intention of confining himself to the limitations ,
which convention has thrown around the treatment of the sub-
ject. He extracts from the narrative some precise, practical
lestOTl that will find Its application in the life and drcum-^
stAnoes of the people whom he addresses^
In thouj^ht Hnd Un|;^»a^e Father Fhelan is plain and clear-
The important point of instruction or exhortation is jo cx*
pikltly stated, and repeated, that nobody can miss, or forget
a. PtieUfli Sr l^ut. Mu. . B. Harder.
558
NEiy Books.
[Jan.,
|t Ample JEluftraiion and arguroc&i> o1 A kiod suited lo id-
t«rs9t and arrest the <LUenlion of an American congregation, sr«
iberally tmployed. There m»y be, at fitsi S"?hi, an ftbscace
>f division, and a lecniing w<kut ol unily tn fci^oic of Ui«
$«rtnons; but divUion is only a mran» towards keepmg the
central thought of the sermon well in view, and this Father
PhcUn manages to da in his own way. If he doe$ teem, occa-
Aianftily, to indulge in irrcle^'Hinl dt^restJcn, one find* ihnl be
is but a(jp Touching hiis th«me frotn jinoihcr cllrcction. Judged
by the C4non4 ipp^icable to literary composition, ihe volume
miijlit not claiLn a very high pUce; nor would every incideotai
stacpment pass unscathed the ordcaF cf theoloi;ical and hisior*
ic4l criiid^m. Btit solid, praciical instruction, not literAturc or
dialectics, is Father PhflUn's aim.
Occa^ion;il irrelevance or redundancy, a not infrequent over-
crnphasis of merely personal opinion, may be juAtided oa the
grounds that they serve to add a Havor of piquancy to the
tuiin ^ubjccL, and to auataiTi tiie attcuticLin of the bft«r«it.
This is, probably, I'aiher Ftielan's motive wh«a, reUtive to the
iDLraculouB cure of the deaf and dumb man, he indulges in a
little disquisition on philology: or, ag^ain, when he award* the
palm for the mo^t perfect observance of evangelical poverty
to a body whose claim to prC'Cniinence in this respect has
seldom been advanced so uncompromisingly a^ it is in the fol-
lowing pab^Aj^e : "There ia, to day, only one order that ob*
3erv« fully the vow of poverty ; and that i» the noble, apos-
tolic order of parish priests. They have nothing that they
do not receive from the people, and what they ^et from the
people is given them for good v^ilue received. I uy parish
priests; bei;ausc they afe the only ones who depend entirely
on the people* a^ it is chiefly they who continue the Ij/e,
office, and spirit q\ Je^us Christ The parish pricsi ia about
the only man to-day who must accept Jeius Christ u th«
portion of his inheritaoce- He Is the only man on canh, to-
day, for whose maintenance there is absolutely no provision,
lie must support the Church, and keep it la proper repair.
He must support the charitLCfi of the pariflh. lie must sup*
port the poor within his jurisdiclion ; and woe to him if a*y
man ^oca from his dcor hungry. He mu<it support the bJshop
and his assistant clergy. Assistants must receive their salaries.
Hut where is hv to receive his salary? Wliither does he turn
■]
New Sooks,
559
on pay day ? Tbtre is no pa>' day for hitn. He has no pay-
mAster-" It must be said, in UlrncsSp ihai theie ar« not m aft y
freaks of this hind in tbe book.
:
Even a very meagre knowledge qf
FIFTY YEAHS OF JESUITS the history of ihe development of
IH 5AN FRANCISCO. rdigion in the city of San Francisco
would persuade one, that flmon^
the moat imporunt ekmentfi in that develop men I was ihe i«oTlt
done by the Jesuit Talhers of St. Ignatius' Church, The Ggldcn
Jubilee ol their comin^^ to San Franeisco has reoentLy been
celebrated and on the occa^sion a memoHfil volume* full of
illustrations, was issued- It ]a leplelc alsii with good material
for tbe futuie historian of the Church on the Pacific Coast,
While the chronicle ifi well written, still il doef not give
An atlequate e&dmatB of tbe influence of the Jesuits on ihe ctty
uf San Francisco. Perhaps it isjusi a& well th^t this estimate
comes from one outside of the Society,
The very conservative judgmenl of such a one places the
Jesuits in the front ranks of Choich inflnence on the Pacific
Coa^t- Their church and college date from the time when
San Francbco was only a frontier town with scarcely an
aigani^ed government
Archbishop Alemany at that time bade Father Mflraiiclii to
go "anywhere over there/' at the same lime indicating with a
sweep of his hand the range of sand hills that surrounded the
Utile settlement of gold seekeu. A location was selected, that
memt in pioneer days grading the hilts and filling the valEejSp
T^& SAme locality had to be abandoned twenty years later, be^
cause of the enc roach racnls of city activities.
To-day there is probably nowhere in the country an eccle-
siHslical eslablishmeol so aplendjdly equipped as the One under
the control of the Jesuits in San Francisco. It TcpreEi^nl^ an
outUy of probably ^3,000,000, and It is out of debt.
Thii is the material side; but what of the fepirituAl work of
these fifty years? Netdle^s to say, these Jeauiis havp btcti a
band of devoted men- Their Church has been always crcvdcd
with wotshipper^; their confessionals constantly besieged by
panitccta; Antl Iheir seal ha^ asserted itself in every channel
6mi ttuntina. Col-
Jtew Booxs.
[Jail-.
of aptnttial activity. Tlieir coltrg c haa been a centre of cdoca-
tional infiuence among th« young men of the city. The rcti'
gious CQViBunities of wonien throughout thv cily h^ve velir'l
oo thciB almost entirely for tramiug in ihe spirituti life. The
extra wofk of ihc dioeese, such as the visitation of pt'tsoM,
indeitTial vckoob, and asylums, has fallen Uf|:tly to thern.
In th«M and nany other aveftue« of missionary aeciviiy they
»tfe the most eJ£dcQl helpers of the Archbishop.
n* Fathers tltcfliselves were a^ociated with the Turin pro-
vince, and wen lor the most part ItaTiars. The names of Fa-
llen Uarasdki and Accolti and Burchard and Conglaio aod
Varst, and a score of others, were househutd names lo ihc
older ccAeratioa of San F?anciscanB. Their work remains at
a RiatiuKieBt of their leaJ and devotfon.
Thc J«ftiJti ot San Francisco begin their second half cen-
lofy vitti a wonderfdly complete pUni. It remAins for ihc
oewet C«<i<ratiOD to uphold the high siandafde of devotion and
ottcieacy tliat have been left to them by their saintly prede-
conoea.
COWVEWT DAYS,
Dy A«ne» ftcpplkr.
It is impossEble for n& to renew
our youth; but stiH it ti in the
po>ver of genius to mako the dayt
of childhood live again. Miss
1ttt>plio^ *o li*r latejt volume," has recalled the past years, and
preaantt*] them with auch living power that> in all the charm,
tht lra»Wno», Ihe mischievousnebs, and romance of childhood,
Ihty Uva nirain.
Wa who are old were dehghted to be brought into such
aloie a««ociation with youii^ hearta and even though we never
hiiaw lh» heroined, we i<h that we knew many who were like
lh*ni« cmlythat ours lMi;lte<l something of the vivid imagination
4Ud th« romantic enthusiaim which warmed, sometimes over-
ihMch, the young blood of the author's fallow- students.
The thanie of the book is di&iinctly persona]. It is Agntf
|4iipi<ll«t'4 own convent days, and she returtis to them with a
liiva Ih&i, tvidvntly, has only increased with time.
ICvQtythiug has changeil in the convent that I loved, and
I am aikcd to bdicve thnt cvtry chanEe is for the better. I
I906,J
N£w Books.
^h
do not believe th.is at aU, ... 1 look witb disfavor opon
luxuries which would have fleeuie<1 to tia lik« ihc opulence ti
AIiddm*5 paUcc- I cannot wax cuihusUstic ever ilic in*
trusioo "f Mr, Maithevv Arnold aod Mi. Pakr upon llirf
Ubrdry shelves, wlieie Chdmbefs' MUtttfany ujieil In be OUT
nearest approjtch to the intcUectual. Theotdordci f^han^es,
ftud that uulorely wokI, modernity, i^ heiiid wUblu \\\< trait-
<l ml convent walls. ]^veu the iron band of disoipHae hns been
reUx«<t : for the long line of gir!s whom \ now watch liEins
wdAtely in and out of the cliapd have b<:cit iRtig^ht to rule
Iheniiielvcs, lo uselhtfc wider liljcrty wUh Uiscteltott. I woiider
if librrlyj coupled witli dUcrttiou, ;s worth having when om
la elevBii yeufi old. I wonder tfit he purt <A wiadomto bewiso^
so soott, . , . Our successor* today IctJow more than wc
kntw (they could not vrell Ictiow leas), Ihcy hayc lectures find
eimmelk'il bfllh tubs aud " K^ftya oti Ctitieisni"; but do
tliey live tbeir livtTi us vthementTy as we lived our^ ; do they
hold thtf secrelb of childhood iiiviutaLe lit tbeir htBTts aa wA
held them lu ours; are lliey as uatamtcil by ilie common-
place, AA remote from tlie obvious, u we aJways were; and
wilt ehcv have as vivid a picture oE their eooveiit days to look
back upon aa the one ue luok at now ?
The picture i» vivid, and the children are of real ^csh and
bloodn The clique that Jrc the heroini-a oj iheaioryare onited
in common ^ympithy. But « line will »et fonh the different
chAracierS) a» yet undeveloped, of each. ThcSr loves and their
hatreds are undisguised, Their confidences and their irustp;
their pranks ftnd their ambttione Are all slinply, delightfully
told. The book \^ a charining human docuuicnl, MiB?t Rcpi
plier i» a master of the phtase, and the added skilful touch/
her« and there, (he unexpected lurn^ the summary, within ft
line, of a tendency or custom or personagen gives to the vork
an exceptional grace and pcrwer.
W» fonldn't beg our moJhers, even ^-hcn wc saw Ihem, for
dictioLiRiies ol a language Ihcy knew we were not atudyiug,
Lilly aaid she thought she uii^ht ask her lalhet loi one^ the
iiext time he came lo the school. There is a lack of ictelli-
pence, or at least of alenncM, about fathers, which makes them
Invaluable in cEitain emtrj^encie^ : bat which, on \\\\- utbcr
band, is Apt to precipiiale them into bhinden^
And because it is a iruc iricmoir of how teachers Are
S6a
AfM- Bootes.
CJan.,
viewed by the pupil, teachers mighr learn more ihan one le^-
«on from it* pages. We quote a clever and instructive d«cHj>»
tioii (jf wliy A child was not duly Impfesicd by a certain form
of punishment:
Bui I hnd iiol itimgiimtJoit nioagli to £T>i^i> the impL>drv»t«
ai u v&udlc Luoft; ot less upon the akar^ It was uaclc^s to aj^
peal to my l<>v« tor the Bka^^d Virgin. I loved her so irtll
and so conlideiitlyH I Iiad pUcrd my childish faith In her M
long, that no dout>t of her sympBThy tver cro»ccl tny mind.
My own tnoihcr might f.]de with nuihorily. Jndti.-d, shv tf-
pinfiCDlKcl [he sviprtme, infatlHiIt aulhorily, U<tVi\ vi\\\ch tlwrv
«u no appeal, But in every tiouUe of my poor little gtisty
liie. the Blessed Mother aided wUh me. Of that, ihask
beaven I I lelt sure,
Mjss Repplier, with praiieworihy hurotKty, Sft)t»: "Our buc*
ceasors to-duy know more ilian ue knew/' We can bat say,
that if there are many pupds now In our convtnt Khoots v-bo
wiU atUlo to Miss Repplier's knowledge and power, Ihc out-
look for Catholic hicraluic ia promUtTig indeed.
Not only to those directly ecn-
CHURCR ARCHITECTORE. cernod in Church building, but to
By Cram and Othpra. the many to whom the beauty of
God's House is dear, this book'
wiU be welcome and valuable- Ic i& wholly concerned wiib
whal is being done In the presenCt and largely, if not ftllO-
gether, in our own country. The manifest tcndcnty to btiitd
churchet more in harmony with the veneiable and hallowed
traditions of ecclesiastical orchitcclure found in Carbolic tanda
will be noted. And the peculiar variations In belief and wor-
ship found atnong Atncriean non^CJttholUa arc juM » promi*
fient iri the strange foinis em;>loyed in their ecclesiastical build-
ings. The ' up to dale " church of many amotig our scparaTtd
brethren means more than a houtc of prayer; it iv now the
"centre of all the parish aclJvilict/' and as itich it< architec-
tare exhibits m^ny modihcationB Knd i3ep»rlures fjE^m the tift*
ditiortal forms.
Wc are gflad to sec aome noEBWorthy Catholic Churcbc*
KihB k4}pTi A-U^* Ci-ttp. r.A I A., F le.C^>. iTiOmai tljud^n^K 1^ Optlfl* ^ufvv 4b^
igofi.]
New books.
5«S
among the specimens of recent ecclcslasti<:al bnildiogs in tlii»
couriuy Man/ oi ihc&e show the influence of that foim of the
Gothic found in norrhcrn Italy, and our Catholics can justly
bt: proud of them. It gives us pleasure, too, to read Mr.
Cram*i learned and eloquent plea for the Gothic as the proper
Gxprcsfiion of Christianity m art, though the pages of this vol-
ume show that hU professional brethren are not in thTs always
in accord with him. It U scarcely nece»ary to add thai the
book is beautifully and copiously illustrated.
When we read the opening sen-
FAIR MAID OF GREY- tcnce of this story :• 'In Ihe nave
STONES, of St. Andrew's Church two men
^y ^^"- were mauling each other leatously,
while near threescore of tattetde-
maUoQi cheered them on," we suspected that we would be con*
demned to the reading of another story of battlefLelds and
blond and death. But in a short while the unhappy suspicrout
were cleared, and we read a lale as enjoyable as any we have
met in a long time. Scotland is the ground, and the bloody
quarrels between Royalists and Roundheads the general subject.
But these thJTFgs^ thou|{h giving a local color and a fanciful
historical setting to the tale, might be taken away, dnd yet Ihe
tale he just as iniercsiing. The plot H not novel, and it is
rather a late date to expect novelty in plots, but U is human and
thrilling.
Our sympathies are with Jock Hetherington from the very
beginnings lie is young and impetuous, and culpably impru*
dent. He himself lies to »ave pTob3l>ly his head, and his Itc
\'istts him with dangers and misfortunes that rec^iMre Eome three
hundred pages to recount. But Jock, quite paradoxically, is the
Aoul of honor, jind though persecuted and hounded by deceit
aad treachery and poison and starvation and pistol and sword,
lives and fighca bravely against them all
Our hearts were with Jock, and though we knew he would
come out with a sound body and mind, we had, (of a lime, tc
accept the reiult on faith; and, speaking figuratively, our faith
Wtut not strong mouKh to keep our hcaris quiet and wjihout
f«|f» Misfortune with Jock was a blesairg in dis^uise^ since il
■ * T^ Frrr AftiJ f/ i>rff/mi^ By Bwl-h M»f4r Dn fTo* Vorkr TTiip MftWlHAh
JVffw Books.
brings to him tlie girl whom he is to love and who is to b«
worthy ol him- A strenuous, wholesome, stirring love lale it
H. Tbo gtrl ia aweec and kind and very much o( the woman;
and Jock, who hi* very oiten waEhed his bloody hands after
A iighl, !£ a coward in love's conque&i. Ahhtn must follow
him in the night, as he \9 running away, tell him oj her Icvc,
and bring htm home-
Thc book is alive; now and again tt may border on (he
melodramatic, but it is aU whoksomety good cind heahhity sen-
timental The presentation thowg power, aki)], and sympathy,
and we congratulate the author*
^^■^ Number eeventecn in the Fairy
^^^^ HOMAKCE BOOK- Tioolc Series comes Tht }?fd K^
^^^V By Andrew Lang. wance Eof>k^ It is prefaced by a
^^^^P brief and interesting little account
r of faiiy books in general, and u( this hcHcs in particular; an<J
I gives the children thi:^ good bic ol advice — 1o read the itories
I which hold their attention and are fie for ihctr years, and to
]«ave others— lefison bmokc excepted— alone- '* Some of Ihe
present Uiles were first told in IceUnd eight hundred years
ago, and are moaily true and about real people. Some are from
the ancient French romances of the adventured of Charlemagne
and his peers and paladins. Some are from later Italian poems
of the same kind, Cupid and Psyche is older, and so is the
stoty of the man who was changed into a donkey. These ar«
from an old Latin romance written when people were still
heAlhen, most of them. Some are about the Danes in England
(of whom you may have heard], but there is not much history
in them," BeauTifnliy bound and illustrated, the present vol-
umct like its predecessors, makes a pretty gift for children.
I
Tt would, perhaps, be more cor-
MATItDA OP TUSCANY, rcct to call Mrs. Huddy'f account
By Buddy. of the great and noble Matildft
a story, rather than a hisiofy-f
Not that the author takes any liberties wilh faeta, fi>r tJie w
■ Tkt Rff Kit*4*it /it^y K^i«ii 1^ AfulEc* L4Jia'
don: JoltP X.»a%.
t^oe.]
NEiV BOOk'S-
S6S
well acquainled wilh the literature of her subject, and advance*
no atatcmenC of importance for which ahe might not quoit re-
«pcctable authority. The propertians, however, thai ahe bas
given to ihe vhtiou^ e^ementB of her nnriahue, sometimes sug-
g«sC the bifitoTtcal novel as much as they do strict history.
She loves to linger with feminine tenderness, over a pathetic
incident, or a romantic E.tbleau - and she frequently embel-
lishes her account with details of the (eclirgs, emotions, mo-
tives, and behavior of her characters, for which, tometimes,
6he muEt have drawn upon her imagination. Thr^ie featuieb
nfe, however, not out of place here; for Mrs- Hudidy's pur-
pose has evidently been to provide a volucne of instructive,
popLiIar reading^, rather than a book for the student. Hdifica-
tion^ioOfia her object; and she finds in the brilliant virtues of
Matilda, and still more in those of Pope Gregory, airple re-
lOurces tu set otT tbe depressing pfcti^res of vice, violence,
cruelty and gf^ed which the chromder of this stormy period
of Italian history is obliged to recall.
I
The CtilholiL; Church in America has EulTcrcd a diatinct
lo» in the death of Dr. Patrick Cronin, the editor of The
C^lMse Vticrt ami Times, of Kuffalo.
Dr. Cronin wa« one of the best known and most induen-
tiat Catholic editors of the country. For over Ihirty years,
through Tff£ UNton and Times, he was the fearless and watch*
ful defender of the Churchy a sincere patriot; a lover of
American instKutions; and a ceaselesE champion of liberty. He
was [earned. In writing, he was facile and powerful- Ferson-
ally. Dr. Cronin was a man of splendid presence; gonial and
attractive in his manner; large-hearted and sympathctic-
Theic line* are but an unwnrthy tribute to his life and h\s
work. The apoftolate of the pre&B mourns bccaute of his death,
and Catholic journalism Is so much the poorer. Ilut may the,
reward in its fuTness be his, and may his soul rest in peace,
Jforcign ipcrioMcals.
7^ TtibUt (iSNov,); Mgr. Avcata has left Rwnc
Apostolic DelcgJilion in Cuba, He succeeds Archbisbop
Chapdlc, who died rccetitly at New Orleans. The Poa-
tifica.] Commisaioo for the codiRcation of Canoo T^w hat
resumed iis meetings. It is hoped thai in five years A
complete cade of ecclesiastical legTslation will be pub*
lisbcd-- ^An eJl^ctivc speech against the Separation
Bill was made recenfCy by M. Chadca Diipuy, a lotmtiX
Premier
(35 Nov,): Mgr, Jamca Connelly gives some intercsiing
ImprcasioQB on Germany and Church Music He 9ay»
thai, Ihirty years or ao before Ihe " Moiu Proprio," the
Gcrnlan Catholics had, of their own ffec wilJ, reforvned
Ihemtdves. The principles enunciated in tbe Pope's pro*-
noitfictincnt are ncilhei more nor less than those of the
" Ciicitia V'erein," of which Dr. Fran e Wit te is the npos-
tie. Special tribute Is pAid to the revercACe and devo-
tion of the Calhoiics in Germany.
Tf^ Month ■ In the first of a scries of arttt^les critidzing Kd*
mund Campion's J/iitory of Jrelandy Rev. J, H. Pollen
deals entirely with the ear]y life of Edmund Campion,
from the time of his apostasy from the Catholic faithj in
1556^ until the year I57E. BcLwecD those two periods
it w^s that the afterwards famous Jesuit, in coHaboratioo
with one J. H. Sianihurst. who enjoyed court favor under
Elizabeth, wrole the History of Irtlami,— — The Chinese
problem in the Transvaal is also the topic of an article,
in whieh we obtain a clear insight into tho present
labor conditions in that country. According ro the
writer^ under the present Chinese Labor Ordinances, tho
Chinatiian is merely a slave, and as such is a menace to
the community; if he is to be more than a slave, he
must have his own Chinese environment, and this Is ju«
what win never be permitted in South Africa.
Tfu Nattonai Reme-.v .- Contains its usual full summary of th«
episodes of Ihe month. Sir John Strachey and 5ir Rich-
ard Strachey contribute an article against the policy that
upheld I^ord Kitchener against Lord Curion in fndi*.
The policy "may lead to consequences disastrous to the
Foreign periodicals.
peaceful mainEcnancc of our Indian domimon/"-
-Will
Crooks, M- P., writes on the growing power of Ui€ I^bor
Movement in England. An untigntd ariicle of un-
questionablr sign^Iicanct and of Eurpijsrng dala is "The
German Navy League." The R«v. B, J. Campbell
wrlies ui favor of temperate biblical critic ism,^^ Special
Commissioner writes on "The Counter Revolution ia
Russia," in which he sa)'&: ''If the modcrtics, who are
for going to work cautiously, consiiierately, Aiid without
wounding the susceptibilities of the irasses, afc woi^tcd
in the struggle (hat has ju»E commenced, the Klacic
millioa^ will rise up in fury and wipe out the political
elemcDt which is hastilc to their God and their CKar."
^J, W. Wr^Jslord writes on Freddric Basiiat. Gob-
i's teacher- Sir Giibctl Parker givea his viefts cq
lanada after Twenty Vears." "The Amencan," he
nys, *'\s nof going to Atnericaniie Canada."
Qttirfsaiiif {i6 No^.) ; It is the opinion of Max Tiifmann
that the present $tate of the wurk^ Qi popular education
should be a source of hope and an incentive to action
for ail Catholics. He has arrived at ihi^ opinion after
examining the rapid spread of educational works started
by Calholicc^ and [he stand taken by thiftc whu are in-
cllaed towards Chtiatian views, All art, and mosl es^
pecialiy literature, has for its object, if we may depcr,d
on the authority of Comie J, do Fles£i«t the realisation
of a beauty capable not only of charming the sen^cF,
but of placing the »oui, snatched from earth, in com-
munication with the invisible, the infmlle bcauiy. Such
wa. the aim oJ the literary men of the Middle Ages.
Such now $eemB to be the opinion of a very few of the
latett writers. Itut the gnp from the Middle Age» in
the present mGm<?nt was iiUed wiLh wrilers who^e ^ole
purpose was the gratification of the fcnsci. No Chris-
tian influences pervaded their thougtig and works. Now
a return lo :i thoroughly Christlikc loncepirun has bten
begun. That all writcra may join in this movement is
the ardent desire of the author of thittarttdv. Gttorjfea
Pon^egrive expUinA the conflict between the laws of the
fOciai life of man and thoftc of hit moral iifc> The
moral i> wholly interior, ii governed and directed by
J
'in FOnSfGft FEUrODlCALS. [Jin..
t!ie wtll, depefids conttamly on the indEvidu&l, and la
purcl)^ tpintual- Th« »odaI, hov^ever, is alinost (iirect-
iy opposed to thi^ and depends on the body, '* It U
created by the eommunfcaiion of bodi>j and dominated
er^iircJy by the laws o\ mrchanks." SliU '\i mu=l be
rcmembrred that the sodal acfa ol man are nor (xclo-
•ivcly corporal, for they are conditioned by tbc state of
the toul, 5ocUl acts arc social. Inasmuch as ihcy ara
rraliied exteriorly, but (hey are ol&o untpcedcntly in*
terlor, In %*> far as they spring from moral decisions.
Lt C^fTt^MtUnt {\<i Xov.): There ia mud) that should be
helpful to French readers ol thi^ magarine m an arti-
cle coBtnbuied by Patrick BoyJe. entitled : "Church and
StAte in Ireland/' The condition of the Church in Ifc-
UftU U ahown, «o chat Frertch Cathotrcs, in case their
Concordat ii abtflitb^d, may learn ju^t how to construci
a AGW "aoduc Vivendi." The dilferenc poini» reconi'
tnended by Mr Boyle are: The election of bishops by
the ckfuy; the support oi the Church by the voluntary
offering of the faithful; civil freedom in regard lo
rl^htf of property and rights of education. These ob*
t&in in Ireland at the present day. The Church is free
from subjection to the Stale and finds \\% Icgiiin&u of*
ftce fn ministering to the spiritual needs cf the faithful,
{aj Nov.): With fftfercnce to Lrs Ori^trr/s dt !a Rtm
/i^rmf. M- Imbart dc I* Toar studies the development of
Gallicnn principle* during the fifteenth century and up
tlli the eve cjf the RcfoTmaiion. He thinks tb«t "C'e«t
boAUOOup au b'&llicanitme que U Fra^ice Cathcliquc «
dA de traverser les icmpi^tca de U Keforme sans se de-
tacher." M. Kodolphe Miiller surveys the active colo-
nial policy pEsr^ucd by Germany for the past ten yean.
In M^hlvh JErcai attest has been laid on the stimuEatioa
and protection of missionary enterprise, The efforts
made by the organisations lor the social ameltoiation of
worklnEf women, towards aiding glrU to finding employ-
ravnt oa cicrk* and needle workers, arc disc^i*=ed by M.
I^uii Rlvtcre, who points out the cere that must be
taken to mike such help a stimulant to self-reliance.
'The recently publtehed volume containing the cor-
r^pondencc of the Comtc de Jaucourt with TaUeyrtnd,
I906.]
Foreign PxEionrcALS.
569
during the Congress of Vienna, is Ihe subject of a cnli-
cal arttclc written by M. Dc Lanzac dc Laboric.^^A
accctnd series of the brilliant, gossjpy letters of M- Ed-
rnoncl Rotissc to hia friend covers the events and topics
that ftfforded VatH subjects for conversation during the
years l^4S-]e49.
VA<ti^n StmiaU dt la F^mmf (jo Nov,): In a conference de-
livered, in the first tnatance, to a congfcss of ladies cn-
g^g^ed ID the "mouvcment fdmiriin," M. J. Lerolic dU-
Cdsses the causes of Ihe waning of faith nmong French
CAthollcG. He A^£igTi£ three: Ptrst, the substitution of
various petty practices of piety for the Church's own
devotions — wc have the M;ts& and the Eucharisl, yet we
must go off and make to ourselves a religion of ribbons
and onedaU ; the second Is a tendency to reduce religious
duly to external obKervanccb ; the third, defective cate-
chetical instruction for the jroung. There is a chronicle
of ihe work accompHshed in various centres by the or-
gani^talion of " L' Action SociaJe/* A scheme for start-
ing popular libraries, for the dittusion of religious in-
vtruetion is submitted.
itmdts [io Nov,): There is in preparation a work entitled:
/,* JfxuiU tie ht LtgtKdt^ by AleKinJcr Broii. Thifc nunl-
Iw contains an extract of that work. Here the writer
Itmitf himself to Fascal, his ProvincLal LcUcr». their ef-
fect on religion and Ihejr inliuente on the Jesuit or-
der. Henri t hi5rot makes a few remarks apropos of
the publication of the Mtm&irs c/ th* Jaiitnitt Ftfittau,
by Jovy. The author of that book, he ihink^H haa reO'
deted a ifrcat service to the hiHory of Jansenism.
Dtmain (a? Oct.); This is the initial number of this weekly
paper, which U to devote itsell to the lifting up of
Krflince"» fallen failb, and to ln^lp Ca^hdiics \a meet the
momentous crisis which now stares them in the face.
The foiluwint: words ire translated from its lilutAtoty :
"Catholic France is drawing its last breath. Bui it is
dyinf^, not so much through the attacks of cncmiei
without, as through the blunden and deAciencies of it»
own children within. Cathol telly among numbers of our
Co-rcHgionists l> nothing bul a habit of forms and ritea,
the deeper meaning and richness of which have dropped
S70 FORE/aiV PEftfODlCAlS. [Jan..
from peopl«?'s [niod^- Wc hove Pharisees tn pleaiy ic
%lt\^c their breasts over 1h« eviJs of the nation, but who
hjivc not huiniliiy enough to accu£e thenieelves as Ilie
cause of tho3e evils- We shall combat thc&e dvmf^tic
enemies more than cnctuica oulsiiie. Three chief pHncU
pk5 ivUI be the coasiani object of our propaganda, po*
lilicit liberty, social <luly, Mnd mlelleclufll progress. To
break with anctent parties, but without prvtenriing to
eatibllsb a new party, to put Life Into a priesthood that
IB tieitumbcd and torpid at the («ct of huni'in author*
ity, , . - will be part of our purpose. II Chrisiiatiitr
l« 10 persist !a France, it must dissociate itself frona
sl] parties of reaction i the spirit oC ciitici^cn has penc*
IratcLl everywhere (iriil nothing CA\y slop it. For this
paper, evt^ry demonstrate^^ truth wilt be an orthodox
truth. Some womanish souls, for whotn every step of
progress is a dargern and to whom the word " /fl- imrfl/"'
rctv" is the sj-nonym fof the impossible, will call us
Utopian^ Oihtifs will blame U9 for speaking of hope in
an hour like this. We answer, we are not blind to lh«
cvJl around us; hut we src going to combut it, and we
are i^oin^^ to combat it in \he place wherq ii has won
its chief triumphs^among ouraeivea. We shall be op<
timittfl; we shall be enthusiastic sons of liberty, of de-
tnocracy, and of light."
fTiW/z'ti CnUtfiidt (]H Notf.) : An article on the conquests ol
Catholicity during the nineteenth eenlury points ojt
that Catholics have many reasons for rejoicing at the
g^ains of ^n^ hundred years. Jn China. Thibet, Ceylon,
Africa, and the islands of the Pacific, enormoui advances
have been made by our missionaries, especially those wfco
labor under the wise laws and free spirit vf the BEitJah
Empire. The European councrtea in which the Church
has more than held its own are Germany, Holland,
Roumania, Bulgarifk, and Greece. The growth of Catho-
licism in the United States is recogriied in £lowin|>
wordE. New York is acknowledged to be the most Catho-
lic city in the world. The admUsion is made also thai
our progress it; <^hiefly due to the religiuus liberty granted
by oijT ConstitutLonn Still we arc warned that the Ameri-
can system of reparation of Church and Stale is not \n
accord with Catholic principles. However, in Americn
j^]
PojiEiGN Periodicals^
J7I
State indifference to rcligiori h^5 never meant the oB^cid
atheJsm and cruel anti-cI^ricaHsm so prevalent tn Europe.
One sentence or two touches on AmericanitmH saying that
the theories of Airmricanigts would lead \o ihe dowit-
fali of religious authoriiy and " to intelEectual ojxd moral
chaos." StilJ the ctangcr wilL be checked by a vigilant
papacy and a careful epiacopale.— — An article on the
new French CnthoUc weekly I'^waiH is severely censor-
ious. Itft ptogrflmiue if declared to be theologically and
hiptoricaUy falae in maintaining that the evik of the
I Church In France are due Utgelv to Catholics and
ehurchinen themiclves. The new organ Is a mischievous
and innovating ^iTair, the article concludes, and then with
A jc6l upon wordsn warns Demain that if ft is to do good
work ec-rrtorrotu^ il should change its programme and
spirit t&-day.
(j Dec): Reviews Fogaiaoro'a now popular romance //
SantOy but in a vein that docs not Rgrce with the pfaiscs
showered on iht^ book by others. The author hat made
a mistake in his thesU. It is not the Church which
needs reform, but sociery which disregard:^ the Church,
denies God, and abandons his law to lose itself in cor-
rupt materialism ±nd rri^htful anarchyn It is not the
Church which should adapt itself to society, btit society
» which should adapt itself to the Church, the infallible
dvposLtory of divine truth. Really it ia a pioco of bitter
irony to publish a book accusing the Church of avarice
And domination, when her sacredist rights are disallowed
by all human lawmakers, her religious are despoiled and
scattered, and sectarian hatred rejoices over her ruinft.
With regard to St, Expedit, it is an erroir to a.-ky thjit
his cultus has been prohibited by the Holy See. That the
cultufi of tliir; martyr may continue without scmiiile i^
deduced from the fact of hts real exiaience, proved suf-
ficiently by the indications of St. Jerome's Mitrtyr&hgy^
$fimm/n Aus Afaria Litnch (Nov.)^ Fr. l^oissel, S.J., in an
article entitled "Truth in Religious Pictures," contrasts
modern ari with th&t of the Middle Ages, and shows
wherein the latter is superior, Fr. Baumgartrer ha»
an article on Paul iluur^ct and his psychological r^ovel,
ifw Mhes<rhtidun^. Fr. Stockmann conclude j his
4^Ief on the work of (he Countess Hahn-IIahn,
THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.
NEW YORK greeted Douglas Hyde in Carnegie Hall by a meeting which
wi5 a mast pronaunced success from ewcry point of view — in the num-
ber, character, and ^Landing of those present, the tactful opening speech of
Judge Keogh, the masterly address of Bonrke Cockran, the clear, convincing,
and simply eloquent plea for the Gaelic League by Douglas Hyde. Judged
by the psople ia the audience and the (inanciftl result, it was by long odds the
most remarkable Irish gathering ever held in New York, No missionary
from Ireland ever before commenced an American tour under such favorable
citcumtancea, and Lhe complete success of that lour is already asaured.
The Honorable Bourke Cochran^s speech had a strong Christian clement
sometimes notably excluded from meetings to promote the Gaelic revival.
He spoke in part as follows:
Mothers begin to think that it «ould handicap their children in the race
of life to be familiar with the Gaelic of their fathers- The march of materiiJ
prosperity seemed to involve the destruction of the tongue ; and yet, in the
face of all this, some ten or twelve years ago, a little band of Irishmen, no
more numerous, 1 hcNevc, than six or seven, met together for the purpose of
fouading a Gaelic League; and this language, which Archbishop McMale
tsemed povjrless to save, which all the forces of civilization seemed bound to
destroy, suddenly, jneiplicably, almost in 'a night, leaped forth into life and
light ! From b:ing the dialect of a few remote hamlets, it has become the
language ol a l^rge part of the population — about two hundred and fifty
thousini — and aq object of pissionale cultivation by the whole race- It has
already feasaerted itself upon its ovn aciil, and to-night, before this imposing
githering) it proclaims itself advancing among the forces operating for the
spread of civjlizacion, and we American citizens express our greeting here to
the patriot, the apoille, the prophet of its revival.
My friends, this, I have said, is a significant event. Its significance goes
far beyond tbe graiilication of Irish patrinlism- What does it mean ; this
event which I am justified in calling the phenomenon of all the ages; which
would be a miracle, if any event evolved from purely human circumstances or
hurciin action could deserve that description ? How are we to explain the
fact thai thii language, disappearing and dying, has suddenly revived, not
through the aid of government, but in spite of it ; not through the encour-
agement of the learned, even among the patriotic, but in spite of their oppo-
sition ^ Wtiy ii it? Ordinarily we are told that the multiplicity of lari-
guages is noL conducive to human progress.
I have heard men even say, and with a good deal of force, that building
construcition was not promoted by a multiplicity of tongues at the Tower of
Babel. Some people will point you to the fact that in this country now,
when we are highiy civilised, there is but a single language spoken. When
it was the abude of savages, there were as many languages as different
tribes^ At this moment in the Philippine Island^ there are eighty diflereni
dialecca. The multiplicity and diversity of these methods of expression is
I905.]
TftK Columbian Reading Umoft.
57J
tbjil proLiIcm. OrdinjirJly Ehc march of ^irogte^E h^% been l>y eHf ntdjiniUtion
«f languagCi Mun di^cardi thni whL<h it no longer iiqrfaF- Ont mtrhod «1
CipfHtion inkriOE Lo duotbet l> doomed lo die- Whiit marL rciLUfrfi, thai
n]*n summoi^H Mofo ihc mere fan ft£ thi* ruir-iardinary pf*cnomcftCB, ihc
revival cf ibis UngitAgf in ihJt TclrjcprdiDAry munncT. provri nrre Thing be-
yfliid hU quubtion, thil \\vt Irish ldii[;ue; ls nfctts^Lry Jti auinv ^ay or Dllivr la
Ibt pro^rca^ of tn^nklnEl, The fact Ihdl il lives ta an evidence lhi:l K ti
neceturv to human dtvclopm^nr,
lo whai way un we 6cc iba( thi» Ungua£« ls necci^ajy lo ihc gTowib ol
hiimnn pmgrCMf W^ll, ii gccma [O ine th? nmivpr H >iigf-0sirct in the ipiif-
oian}i which D^ugU^ Hytl« gave boloM a commLtiion n-hidh lat lome y««rf
j^u in (he cily of Dubtia. I i^ftcri wondct iE he undvEaCiutdA the lull &]£[ijli>
eancc pf ibis Iiingii4j;7 und qf Ehc movement which lE dcincrlbes, Icblhc
kiilure of urctit cvvnlt IhjiE the men who ct/ptribuie moal iue unconsctou* oC
ihe nxdgnimdp of iht idcks which ihtv have iLiLrted, H« layt thor " ihe
tludy ol The Gaelic lortpte ftptraiPMo iTflin the people in oratory or power
ol eKpre»siont in .i:iihetic nppretutiDn dE lueraiurt, aad in sonc :ind m
nmaic." My ftL^nd^, whu evt-r remlcrcea the rdtources of human tinlufetn
oralory, in lone. tnJ in muiEc, ii broadening ihe current of tiTlIiialian and
uplidiin^ ihc font of men to a Oi^nily ihey nevcf knew bctaiei
Whac 1^ mosi etientinl at thl9 momcni in rhe civjliird worlds I bolLcvt
Lhai II proves eoneliri^veljr thr purpose ol Gvd Ln ihe TCvtva] of ihli tongue IS
la summon Eo (he dvfencc af ChEibtran CLviliJiiEiaii) in ibr splender of aufiCfWr
■he mmi* forces an<1 the same lanj^iiagc whi<:h laid the fmrndalionn al
Chtittian civii^^aUon la (he ruiot of |}ie corcLipt old Empire of Rome-
Wbal it thia moUei^n ip'ivjIiiEalibn of auit^ What ie iU ektcoliai] piiiiciplc?
tt U juAikc. Lhii jaiiicet nccordln^ lo the ChriatlAn con<^rpb*n of iti tb«t
hatdi alJ men equal before ihf law, li is bm the ippticai^on lO cLttl jEovtrn*
ncrni of ibo Cbmuan tinhef ihxL all men are eriual in Lhe qjea of God. That
CituaUty of men Um worked The nholitton of ^crviiudc* aid iJ mml uUimately
work (he ov^ [[bti^w dI Uetpotiam ibioughaut ibe world- AUcady i1 bai tub-
»ljruted Tfcfi labor for »l«ve Ubor. and ibat change h» AcoooipllAhed Ihe mo^t
arvelom revolution in the whole btttory of mankiod- ft baa woDderfully
phficd the condttions ot eivry nidividual, \x haa t* inferred the producine
pow«r o' hia handii il h.ia muUiplied Lhc CDininudiLira avjiilable Idi his i^om-
forl*; il haa widened ihe tuapt of hit knovrLfdge: it baa lenfirhened Ihr apan
v\ bja daya ; il hut broadened ibe honiun u[ hia bDpea ; but beaidci Ihe auc-
Dtaea \X hai afhipved^ It hai developed new dunsera nnd new UifficuUlea
arhicb are born of the <^ery iplendon which i\ has aecompliibed,
The ttave wa* rndy lo accept the cruit of bread from Lhe hund of hi*
maaief ai the rtward nf hia dny'ii tbij, glad lo cicapc the Irn^b, Thv free
Uboief d^manda a fail ahare af the property in the commodiEy prodLcod by
bi< labnrL ax\A tiling; thik \a\% ■Imce U (be i^reut piuhkm uf ijiviU^^iiiun, U
hia provoked ilru^x^ci tnare detpcrale ^nd tnoie dUficult than any (bal her^
tofoie perplexed tb? «utetman»hkp ol the c^vdlud world- 'The ■^uetiiona ol
ibe future will no^ be to tetlle the boundurlts ut nation', btil the c&nd*iJoria of
the |>cop1C who ilweU in Uirm. It will no looker be a r|iicalion of dividing thc
S74 '^^ COLVMSiAN RSADfXG UXION. [J«b»
I
1
tng (b* product of thv earth amang th« difff?r«ntri1f mtnit ihat biie cn^i^d iV
Thtfu [jiii:gticii!i CAiinbt br fcllkd by fL»rcf ; ib?y mu9l b« tcllled by ju»-
titE: Jindf UfltltT ihe prflwih sf ChriatUr clvili«ricrn, ir b no ]an|>«r ncetriAkty
U> utm jufcliCCp Vcu b>ivc 1^>jC L« ftliCiw h?r tfiiU ilU men arc a|;t?v«J iDKfvc
htr, Juiric« ii ro lorgor aomelhing lo which m«n muil be i:c?r»(Ii il it be-
come ihf paiikon of ChrifTunt ^v^rywh^rF. The ^uciilon if* »ad ih« per*
pLcKinc pivbivm it, (lol 1q obty juiiice bm lo «li«E.atei iC; ia itc^itain pT*>
aitely *wh*rr jusiicf lie*- And bow is in^ricr lo bo H$9c<iverfd? Ry Tbf int#r-
chjtni^ of hutnitn (hciiighl» by the compnritan af bumaq viewj. by Ihe cicr-
dne 4nd u»C of lbj[ ajpreinc power Eiven \-o man, bj' Lhiil pdwer wliidi God
himvtlf invoked wb?ri h? proCF?dcfl fo r^mblJsh "bifs Inwind to saw the lecdi
ol hik clvib/aUofl m thit land, li muei be dour by the word spoken or writm.
Il pkusi be donE by appealiD]* to th^ conicipnce ^nd ihe inlollnl of mta Abd
pointing out hrforr chcir rycf ihc pni^wny thiau|;h which thf ir foaiatept can
rtub Lh« apoc wlierc jiulicB it uflcn cauH^led.
Pr. Hydr (elU us ihac Uc has aiacov«reU ivherc kt\ EngE^^h pEsunt hMft
voetkbuUry of Rvl^ or r^ijEhc }iLindr<d wordi 41 the oniiiif? . iltat tht Irlib pc*i-
AQlio Lhe (UOit unJsicercd condiEion ha» a vocabuliiy of nol Ict^ ib^n twcaiy- _
Ave hundred word e, and iti Kerry 4nd in Umrrirk tboi VDC»bu1aty risra 10 ■
<ll ihoiiiAod whtrrc the Iriih longuf atone it ipokrn- The Ih&h IingUAgr*
ailtod [n thu \tfivittf o[ nun, *ilE be the 9iEuii[;<;5i in&Lrumfini in ahounhc
where justice tiandk dnU mining her (a ihc Ouoeif on whitb men are rndy
to h*ve |g*tlct iCT a* ^oon a« ihe I5 reveileJ to then eyci.
Ml m^D are iiwkivaid 111 ;i k»^*uige which t& not theii' owti. It a nun b«
elOqueni in a /orelEn langTiagP, or evrn forclWc in it^ he will be suWltne In
his own. Edmjnd burke, sp?>king the Llnsliah langmge, raised ii to mcb
dfivfiufmmni. ibuL Lord Macauky i;j-y^ as Ite bpuke il no [oti^ue cempdrahlf
to il wi(» ever u»d by man cuccpl ihe and?ii1 Creek R]nn7. Irish poert have
added k new ipkndor EO ICnglkib ver»H 'ind Dr. Hyde hiiuteLf IcUi ut tliJt the
very loundalLOU iiiid orjgtn of verse ts to be laund among ihe Ift^b po?l«.
Every one of ok knowi ihai ro evi^ry pTiaie of Enflisb ei^ietsion ihe Iriih
povi has CQULrtbiiced taatx oi iti pALba& and of lU humor. He bat muiafnl
CO lend, tfvrrn to (he unbending TnglUh word^, aomr^thfng of the melody, of
the cadence of Ihe AlUmle nt it iirtkef And moiirii upon hia rock^honnd sbotv.
He bdi been ^bk iv ]ui^iL4.ac in Knt^b&b lilvriilurt? u iikencts uE the parent
tplrli whl^h ives in The swaying of the daisitj.in^I rhe eowaUps. not the move-
ment of [b« Mnsele» wind), buithtlooiicepiof theUughJngfvJflet-
rf BuikfCQLild movi! ihe E^gSish Senate and raise ibe EngMi^h tongn^ tO
nff«r «p]£ndor^» conceive wh^it he coiiM hnve rLecamp)i«hei4 for huniAnily h«4
he spoken the :ou|jiie of hta r^ce j-nd oi hiE I^Lhett- \\t wst able to inak«
hisi miLrk, nol nieiely u^ian hi^ uivn n^d but upon the dviliratioa of the
world. Hit jpeeches are to-day Ihe monument* by which every proE«Mtir»
movement is diieclcd, lid »** able even in the Hn^Lith Pa'liainCnl, beJor*
itt reforniiktlan. (n the name of jiisifoe and equnlity, 10 so strip and unmBlIt
vice, opp^eiEion, arid pillage in hi^h pljceit ihit ihe man whom the courts
ud the kin^ wanted Id make appi^ai ^nna^enl. he pl.ifed 4t (he bAT ol tbf
Hoiiac ol Commons iind ciiuied tn iinswer far hii offeriei, He dJd not tue-
I
4
I
I
J
1506.]
The coLUMBtAPs Reading UNiosr.
57S
■cecd ia c^avicLipg Warren Ha$Ung5> but he d&d dBntV7fMt^r Uie t^icm
■^falfhClivt e^tablibh«d nrnl «hicli Hastings contpleUdf 4nd I^Wtc scrvict^
«f but % tiint iniJ^idCioD of what he mi^hr hnvf T«nd*ieil bid he b<«o U^t
in Ihd Uagua^e »hi^h natuie inKoded \ua loagiir and hJs Eoi«nti «li9ul4^
ODploX-
Thit ji the pbiloioph^fif the pns\ and the Icnon o^ rhpfulurc- That;
■rbkh iDiVe* this a mtmora^Te ^^ihetrm^, and Ihtit which Juklili?) thiiOuli
ipoutiae IA mttx. ihcl grfft and pmsr ihi^ dfsiinguishfd IrtKhman Is riot rhe
mfrc fracinctlion o( ouf piiriatk pride t>f the meir 4uui>i»c< that cur race
It ind^vfUC libit* but ihc graveri gi;indvr lEeLiny thni Ihc ijsk whkh ]ie» be-
.tore Ihc Iriih tongue and thr Trhh pcofiEc \i gnmicr thpin wny even [>f tboit
vbkb it hu ICC otti pushed ia rlic pait ^ ihAT ihc Uai^uagc which w4a tpokcn
vben ibc loundkUooL ot Chii^litm ci^irjailDn w«r« laid ii ihp iunj^uai-e which
win l«*d iTid be tpokcn fn tile fe>mn09t plncr ivhm the capstone and ibe roof
^a.\\ be pU«d upon ihc siruclure, And in ibc m^ghly xHf oi prcarc^a Ib^E \^
bni>nd tn i^d^ fmrn chr uLtjmiic LloininaiLD:; nf Chn^iian justictr cbroiichoui
ih* worldf "thcee will he fcmnd ihc Uit arhifvcmtnt of Itish nBlion*lily \ thrre
m\\\ bf foLiuU lb? cio^vn oE the work tb^l UuujfUi Hyde has begun aad ithich
Cod hii detlined lo »ucce<d<
« • ■
SoiQV fucetltnt boolci for Kcudmg Ciidvi ire published by the Caibc-
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tJal lilt ii bcr« Eiv«ii;
Jf^ii and lUaitinj^, by Brothci- At^tH^t S^ ccnls. CAafittra if Sihtt
Stuif/. V Rev. H. I- Hcmtr, $1. Ar-f/^ amf CtiAi'iu PAi/ojf'fiA}\ hy Frede-
rick OiAflini, $^19. Ititrmi'My ^/ Mf f^ifirfa. by Rev. J- Dfuii«*i, 75 cciili.
jAtr0i&9, $l-jo. 7^4/ ifvf/^ft f>/ !Jt4 Ttmt^ by Kev, CornelJus ChlTordt f irjo.
.^f» lir# CAlhtiii Tfnek/rt' Afanwal, coninining fh* foiirip of itudy »p'
pf^wd for Pjriiti Scbuoln, 40 Cdnla. Orsitni^^hen ,*f Smait l,i&iiirUi^ by
Agnrk W*Urti:e, Si, CiitiiHan Eiiumtifn it ikt Dark Aj^Up la tccu,
Jitttitt Ji ^Jtt,ariirr. jo centi. EiiN^atiart it t^r FhH Cen/vriei, lo fenii-
S^uijjrJftHt by Kw, l^ut-pnv Maj^Tnty, S.J,, 10 ivnu. Ti/ 0*tj^M »/ Ltim%*
b^r P*of*»ior W, Cr ftobiomn, i\ <*rii». C^tkf^He D^ctrtM t/ fnjMfgfnr/i,
by Diihop llfidLcy. 10 c«nti. 7'tM Coun/i </ RndiK^^ 10 ntita, Jkr Cirh
k*9d of oair Ijtdy, by Mirinn J. BruBOwe, }l. Tk< MfS TittJJttr; cr, /A/
C^Affk iVviiav 0f Am/wt^ty. by Pcrc Lftbenhonnicrc, trinsliiion r^viicd by
Re*. I. McSotley, CSh?,. 30 <*Liti, 7^t IIifHn i/<^g^,- and ttiXtr StiNtiti,
by Rev. Thomas J^ Ahabnn, D,U., $<-}<>* fftttery in ffvr PvA!*f .StAwfi, by
H«v. T. DonnttEy, S.J., locenii.
The Inter ft* It 00 tl Cilholit Truiji Socreiy, Arboekl* Building, Brooklyn,
Ke» York City* '* niJiking nn »ffanj!eraent tvitb all other similir locieviei lo
cir^uUte thi^Li tracts jnd p^m^hlctt; and la this cnU has prepared a selcel
Mtilojij*, which mny hi- ^biaipf d by sciid>r»a icn c*nii in po^u^r. Tor »
ttnall nptnditun > lirgr H^iiintiiy ol v.(luibl4 tilantur* ^xn be tecurvd.
&onwol tba leading Cathotii: wf iters ire iGpreseoted iq Lhe cjite [ikivc lihL nnw
compiled for ibi; trttilme. M^ C- M.
BOOKS RECEIVED.
A Co-> Nrw Vnrk ;
Hilfun. P[' ?J. P"i" i> fm ^^V A^r^ P^^lr f*^*fK ^ 't*
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HnVtoiu- I'D. lu Pt>«d< ^ rrrrfrir Dr^ifft** f^ff*rt. Qj twibn Ojiblivfl^
O.h.r Cn ri»- ^- J'^"*it H0-114 TaAli Ihlnl "ichrifi Tlj-Mary 1. Wisjln*a.
Tvc>/ Itftt^'**', n« ATina T. MdUrr- >> tan. rr<<-^ tirfr<. rli*f ^/hvvjva.' m^
MkLfy i';«ili«f1np r^fnutlrf MiuriH r, r-^hn ui^ nthirtr J^k^ nicr f t ai-
TllittJf Al*Lniv W l>. ^l.^ntilir.Ti r[^ fpj, Ft\i:* %i.ip. !* JHJ art tf tAt Ota Muttm*
^ C^i/fmu. hi Gn»i|^i WbDriDD Junu lUiuvaitd. Pp. AU^jgi. PilDtttHl.
P r>irTtri»( i Co., Nct*- Vorlt-
rictfPK vp iii,-uo. rnc« Sa^jp ntt- im 14* c;-***^ if Jan. Impbihcij nom
Tui WAOMiiJ-ikK Com''**!!, N«i*' Vflrt;
/iir i.n^ fii Htfr 4/ 0nMf.'w^. py FfftltTla C. Hfl^, Pti.Ei. Pp. ini.-^M,
B. W Hi'ihiE.ii, New York;
□ viiitJ Ipy Fr'■le^|^lL Kmt. TraoibtM Intv Kn^hkl^ uid ejtted, ii^ii!! Sir* In>iif4H'
linn fnA AilA^iirmtl Nnt-i &)■ Henfy r->L'iiii1 Kr>nE-icU N*l (I. IShU^ ic. i*^n.
TV Siu*»M a/ i'tiitfi<aiH>n—J'nciurd fy " £%-i'rmtt vti OlArrj. JV 44, pTi«5
M- H, WTLliiiT* Campamth WUwivArp. Wii,
/AMI £«/ T"-/*J-' "itltihtr Tki"^. 11/ Colanal WilHnm C HtjnTffr, Pp- tQf,
irnlril, rrLc^ fii ,
ItJUtiLHiTaiiKr FALiimi, lEvnoi], Mui^:
T%i Myifii Kan . ar^ t^Uat/i O^wgAUr. A S*tJfi'iiritl Drnnut I'it F«riT>»P CftifBrtrt*. ftf
GovkVfiHti'i I'lfJh-iifti-. oi'PiL-fc, W["Hj|ii(inn, Xi. C.r
TW'Cr ^'*"^ An^ti-^I lfif!*t pf tht ."n'fim tj J^tttiam ^ffM^K/ d^v^/dOf. J, W.
W]i.tEAiii C MAjiTmvADj AlbfPiiv» K*w VorL
/rMivft 3rtT^Mff t/ ST. yau'uA'i injtiimTa. Ptln ?} r4riu,
iJHHAUrK rr-Ufc-NouiutT kt r:iit, I'*il-. Tmnc* :
^tvm,n. AftifiTiTu^j ti rrlifu, P.jr Mkrl^ AfnnP^?W. A^n vtr ituls wr I4 fSM//t
^rw/fom I'pr ^fnri lirrmoi^d I'p. iil.
Kl.lttH MATHlLAa, Ld[|[Ioli: .
Ilii Cjrtfe* ff ArflrtK'^-*, hy Henry CulUmarc, M-A- hOkon.). rrfltciaop <a &u;lli*.
1
lit
CATHOLIC WORLD,
Vol. LXXX[I.
FEBRUARY, 1906,
Nc. 49K
THE SOCIAL ACTIVITY OF FRENCH CATHOLICS.
BV WAX TURMANP*, LL.I?,
IKER^E arc very good reasons why the Catholic*
of France should be cheerful amid all ihe anx-
ious cares of the present momeoc. It gives me
picasufo to write about one of these encourag*
ing facts for the readers oJ Tl!E CaTHOUC
WoKLD, because £ Ihtnk it extremely important. Thaf U the
jficreasingly active part which ihc Catholic young men of
France are playing in public life. Their inSucnce grows
every day. In some places it haa already produced excellenl
rcftijlts- As yet, of cour&e, the same success haa not been
achieved everywhere, Tiriic is needed for that.
Some people, to be sure, are osionishcd end even angered
when th«y cannot reap the haivest almott as soon as the £eed
b sown. They, however, know no more about the cultivalicn
of a field than others about the intellectual training ni menr
We must be, above all, on guard against discouragement. Re*
*nltfi rarely come up to our fond hopcsn Moreover, aa a rulci
we do not know all the effects of our actions. At times the
belt and moit fruitful escape our notice. As M. George Goyau
wrote recently; "We know the good that we want to do, but
not always the good that is done. If, here and there," he
■dd>, '*fomc result seems slight and rather discouraging, tell
your friends that sometimes things turn out well without our
knnwlng of it tkll we get lo heaven."
Happily our Catholic young men have not given way lo
discouragement. On the contrary, obstacles and opposition
C ay f i^ihtt lea^ T;ii MissioKAM 5ociirr or St. Vavi. rut Aroiita
IBT Till ht4fl or S%yr Vols,
•*0l*' tixxii.— 37
j?8 THK Social actjvtty cffbesch Catholics.
have givf^n ihcni truly apostolic xcaI. For IbU reaiOK tve
cberisb the hope ih-it iheir optimlstk spirit wiM get good re-
flul|& out ol the present iDov^m^lll.
I.
Within the last few ycara, asaoctations of ycjitng Caiholtc^
have been formed »n t^try province ihroughoul the country.
They are to be found in the most widely separated rank^ ol
icicty. Here yoii have » body of studenls— ihcrt a set of
tborcri or of farmers. And these E^^^ps art; not isolated
uEuc«, no mailer what their make-up. Everybody realizes The
need of unity. As a result, different large federations have
been ciubllihed. In »ome the membership i^ delermined by
parAOnflki, in others, by local conaideratJori&,
The two iDOBl important oE these federations are L'Asso-
cTltllon Cathnliquc de la Jeunesae Frsn^aise and Le Silloa.*
Of chcie in purtictiUr. 1 wish to treat.
The Catholic Young Men's AsiSocifltion is the older, having
come into existence about Iwenty years ago. It compriirt
more than a thousand groups, with a total membership of nearly
vixty thrxiuind. This is a force to be reckcined with-
From the very first this association has had an ^minci.tly
prftctica! character. In its statutes, which go back lo May, 19S6,
we find proof of this, There we 6nd these woidfi : *'Th«
Young Men's Catholic Association of France alms at coopera-
U<^a tor the rc'cstablishment of Christian social order- Itt
principka are submission to the authority of the Church and
a thorough^O]n){ adherence lu her teachio^s, especially lo those
thai bear on the truths of the social and economic order. The
means to its end are Christian devotron, £tudy, and the mu-
tual helpfulness ol the tncmbcrs-"
In its programme of studies and dlacusfions, the asicda-
tion propi>«ed such Gubjects as these: '* The Liberal Theory
ol Labor"; *'The Socialistic Theory of Labor"; "Producers'
and Consumers" Co-operative Societies"; "Workmen's Social-
istic Leagues"; "Female and Child Labor in Factories**;
" LimitaEion of the Hours of Labor" ^ ** Legal Rcat on Sun-
day"; "Accident Insurance," etc.
This watt in iSSCi- At that time such questions did act
' ThcFfi m aiTiar uioiIbUqii). [vh imjurEint. howe*«. time ilicy do »« «iieb4 0*<r
thd alio]? <j1 IV^ni*. W« nqit psrTlculnrix t-* TMiW\fm *» A>;<* <f d« pps*en« i I4
'^^(■Uuh 'Ih <lrt^upr*<J'[tli|tL*i Ci; Sik]- ];:«i , Lb jEii^iet Uu Jura. *u.
1906.] TME SOCIAL ACTIVITV OF fREJVCH CATHOUCS. £79
engage CaEholic thought so generally as they do to day. This
distinctly social bent should not be astonishing, however, on
the part of a society which owes its beginning's to the " Woik
of Catholic Workmen's Ctrrilea." from which sprang practicaMy
the whole Catholic social movement in France. CounC Albert
de Mun was probably Ela chief promoter. At any rate, he
stood one A'i itn sponsor at Iht fixiX general astcmbly, at An*
gers, Sn iS37, over which Monsignor Fteppcl presided. Since
then Che Association has grown and prospered. It h>i9 branched
oui all over Francr;, and has given ihoii^nds of the people
on? commrjn purpose. All the while, it has been faithful to
its first object — social action. There are two disiinct periods
in its development. The first — reaching to iSgS — was that of
organization. During this time the scheme of administraiion
WKf decided ort> extreme cire being taken to inteifcre a^ lit-
tle at passibb with the self govcrnmcat of local branches. In
the second period, since iSgfl, the society has been making it-
self democratic,
I wish to say something about thie latter feature of tho
society's growth, because il is the most recent, and, from our
point of view, the most interesting. Up to ISqS the great
m^ority, m lict, aIiiio£t al3. o] the affiliated groups were made
up of students and cnllege men, or, to speak mnrr plainly, of
ineti from the middle classes.
II u true that the Worlcmcn't pilgrimage, led by L^on
Harniel, met Ihal of the Catholic Voung Men's AsKocialion at
Rotne in jS'ji- BuI nothing in the way of intimacy catne of
this meeting, though many eloquent things were faid, Aflcr-
W4rds all kept to thcmseEves in their respective organ izalions.
A$ yet there waa no muctial undertlanding, nor cordial co-op«
vration. That is a ihin^ hard to bring about even among
ChrUtians. To secure it it is necessary that the cotrmon peo-
ple ahould lay ^^ide some of their inborn distrust, and the
middle clastei their tone and air of superiority. Thcie must
be ifood wilt on both aides.
In l8j6 the Federal Council of the Catholic Association
addressed a warmhcaried, ringing appeal to the young men
of the mufte«, Little by little the invitaiion waii hfcded. To-
day workmen, employees of all sorts, and farmers muke up
lirotbfrda of the whole society, The admission of these re
cruits witit of course, change the atsociation extetiorly, but
sBo TttB Social activity ofFrknch Cathoucs. [Feb.,
will in no wise alter Us aims, which were and wilt rctaaio de*
cidedly social
The dirccioTS <A Ihc asaociaiiofi recognize !h»c modifica-
li<ins and ^rc iflftd of them. '* Our association/' wriire Gtorge
rioi« one of \\% vlce^prcAidcnli, *' Is open lo all ccniccs atid is
now marc democratic than ever, Our educated clashes have
not toft U5. We have students from the higher schoob and
colleges and even from the acmLnaiies- The common people,
besfdoti, are llocking to ug. Some branches^ such as those around
Orleans and in La Vendte, are made up, for the most pan, of
country people, The same state of affairs is Jound in the Kord
and Calais. Other groups are composed Almost entirely of
miners; others, again, of metal workers. Why go on wiih this
enumeration ? " adds M, I'iot, " It would be tiresome and, even
then, IncoinplEtc. To realize how deniocraiic our association ift
becoming, u man must sec one of our provincial or general
assemblies.*'
We can only confirm M, Plot"* asicttions, Ey looking over
the annals of the association, and examining the numerous
snap'Shot photographs that were taken ju.4i before the meet-
ings broke up, wc have latisiicd ourselves that the common
peopU have always been a (arge and, at limes, th« dominant
elemenl of tbese assemblies, U the essociation had not had ti
decldedl/ public beat from the beginning, the very circum-
stances, and even the conditions of its growth, would have
brought on a steady development of such lendenciea. It ii
also to be remarked that most of these aililiated bodiC'S have
taken up economic <]UC»:ions, especially of late, and have mad*
inquiries into the condition of workmen and larmerE in Ihdr
Otffl particular neighborhood. More than thai — and this ia
somcihing ahogether new — for the lait three years these young
men have organised acLciual congresses, in which AOcUl quea-
tions alone have been discussed.
The 5r9t of these was held in 1903 at Chalons sur-S&oae.
There three days were given to a careful study of probkoia
connected with unions. The second congress, held at Arr^u in
1904. was devoted to a study of mutual aid socJetiei. Tbc
third, which met at AEby some months ago, took up the grax'e
qi?stioriof apj>reiit]Ce:»hi^. Ttie holiiii^ of these three coa-
gresscs shows, more than anything else, that the ab^ociation
hx& enEered resolutely into the l^eld of social endeavor, lu
,i»?mbcrj /lavc our heartiest con^ratuUlions.
iQofi ] THE SiociAt AcnvfTV OF FRENCH Catholics. 5S1
II.
The ever-growing activity of our young men, as we have
just temarhed^ is a characEerifiTic feaiure of ihe Caiholic move*
mcnt in France, and especially of the Caiholic scdal move-
oiejiL The members of Lc Slllon must be distirgu»hed (n. m
the rest. The/ arc unlike the others, in that thry employ
tactics which show iheir originality, and — better yet — assure
their entrance Into circles thai are hostile to Catholicity. Thiir
method springs, il seeing to me, tiom a state of mind which is
unhappily too rare as yet. These ycurg men say, or rather
have vaguely rcalizedn that ihe first £lfp towaids ii.6ucn<ifg
Dur conic mporaries» is to refiaici from chronic fault-finilmg.
Though in some ways sad and stormy, we should, they main-
tain, love the limes in which we lEve, cherishing whai is lova-
ble in them, instead of sayirg or hinting, in reason and out
of season, that this \% the most hateful period in the history
of the world. Such pessimistic assertions are not altoi^ether
true, and besides they are utterly imprudent- The ineiiibtr& of
Le SiMon do not spend their time railing at their age or
country. They feel that they have scmeihing better 10 do.
Let it not be imagined, however, that they are willing to
put up with all sorts of tyranny, When the Sisters were tx*
pelled a }hort while ago. ihey were the first to organise a
meeting at Paris, in the heart of the t^lin Quarlpr, to pro-
tect, in the name of liberty and eqnaliiy. against the seclarian-
Ism of M. Combes' Masonic Cabinet- Their protest differed
from those made elsewhere in an equally eloquent fashion by
other Caiholies. It drew strength from the unquestioned pro*
fcBsion of their political faithn They speak of the Republic as
the form of gk^vcrnmcnt which they prefer, and a«sert that
such a governmert can always count on thtm-
This society if. in addition, thoroughly democratic; nut
only in theory, but-— what is probably not £o common annoi |;
lis — in practice a^ welL In all its branches |h« rich and ptir,
the sons of the well-to-do and young workmen, the educated
classes and laborers, are treated alike. They meet each othvr
on d footing of sincere Christian equality. They look on eath
other at ccmrades, devoted to a common preat caoae. Each
OD« it expected to play his part according' to the gifts Gud
ha« bcjitowed on him. For myself, 1 do nrit know of anylhirg
more touching than ihe simple yet strong af!tct\(^rL«^\^^^V^^^^^
S«i The Social Acr/y/rr of Fsench Ca tholics. [Feb.,
these mcT) rogrlhtr, in spiic of the soclai differences v/hkh
separaE« them in the tyes of the world- Well !a it sa-id that
Le SUlon is n league of friendship^ in which All btrivc to be
oi ont; mind, upholding the fame ideals and setting themselves
against ihe same mo^al e\ils.
Another striking feature of this socieLy is ila formally wx-
preised (iesire to take part in thi? ChrUtUn Apoi^tolaic- lis
members never hide the Cacholiciiy of their convictions. Quite
the contrary. They have never been backwardj nor, on th<r
other hand, have they been aggressive in a^rming that ihcy
arc atu^ays submissive and loving sons of the Church. They
are quii^k lo condemn what she condemns^ At ihc same time
they alkvays claiTu freedom of HiQught and action in alJ Ihosc
maiieffl thai are kft to the discretlgn of the faithful. No one,
I think^ hss ever seriously questioned iheir determination to
be Bcrupulously orthodoxn tt i^ true (hat iome huvr; djsa|>'
proved of their stand on one or another difficult subject.
These people arc, of course* within iheir nghta in criticising,
but the members of the 5oeietv have just ^% gf.od a right In
acE on rheif own convictions. In other words, these matter*
are open to (rre discu^ion- We niu^t not forget, however, if
we wish lo be Jair, that Pope Pius X,» Cardinal Richard,
Archbishop of Paris, and many French bishops, have given
public proof of their fatherly feeling for these young men
who mike such frank profesfion of their Christian faith.
Their candor fully explains the sympflthetic welcome which
the speakers of Le Siilon receive from very mixed audiences,
in which noA'Catholic elements are, at times, predominant.
•"We are going to take parr in necessary sociaJ work,"
writer M. Mark Sangnier, Ihe founder and president of Le
5it1on, "in spite of distrust. raiHery. and hatifd. Our uork
ttfiii hi of ft pGsiSivt characttr^ Wc will show the worid whai
use we intend to make of the liberty we claim. We will tiy lo
free Libur from the exacting demands of Capital, and liom th«
tyranny of politicians. Wc will not hide what we think nor coa*
ceal who wc are. Out stubborn loyalty may be the hest policy/'
S:ubbarii loyalty, that is one of Le Sillon's chief virtues^
one of those splendid iraits which comniand respect and Iq-
spire sympathy in all who attend the socLcty's meetings.
The reader has doubtless noticed the ita1ici»d Mords in
the preceding quotation l " Our work will bt sf a pmUiM/t fMar
^cur." These few words sum up a plan of cairpaign «hi«b
i9o6,] TffE Social Activity of Fkencn CathOUCS, 5*3
*^reaIeB a deep gulf bftween these young men anri sotne poli.
lidaos who pccach a blindl/ ecgativc opposition, in the btlief
xXinX Uiere is no bopc oj a return to belter condJtiont till wc
bave fallen into tbe worsl- The tnembers of Lo Sillon have
not stopped short with sounding phrases and easy invective.
They want to be up and doings
Let ua sec what ihey mean by action. W^ can bed obtain
tbaC kriowtcd^c by lEtttng^ the society's indefatignblc &.iid elo-
quent president speak for it. Some tnonth^ ago, M. Mark
Sandier spoke about tile moral and social work of Catholicity
in France. After telling of the goorf afrcady accompJishfd by
the Christian £chooEs, the piitmnn^fi. and the workmcn'i»
Cjithoii'J L^agut^s, be went on to «ay :
"Now we can see h^w favored a generation this is — no
liter what appearances tt»ay be — and how, as Holy Writ
ra, it has been called to reap where it faa^ not E^wn, It has
4 two-fold ivork to dOn Our Catholic socielles have long been
well equipped so far as rctigioa and nsorality arc conceined.
They must now be fitted for social work, which is to-day the
field of action (or sound Chrislianity. Our study circles are
busy getting people ready for this work. In the next place,
il is our dgty to make the people feel that Catholicity, with
its incomparable social virtue^ can fieely enligtiien and help
the country. Our Popular [nstitutcs arc designed to produce
this conviciicn."
M, Mark Sangniefi on another occasion, put the tendencies
o£ Lc Silton in a clear light " Our friends know.*' he wrote*
"that it i^ mo£t important to maintain strictly the spirit in
which wo wish to workt That is the spirit of truths which
mikes us despise the narrow and unfortunate distinctions of
society i which enables lj£ to be true brothers in spite of super-
Acial oDBlacles ; which keeps us from joining exclusive societies :
which makes u* recognire and esteem all that is good in our
opponents. It :s also a spirit of love, of a love which embraces
not only those who are our comrades in the every- day struggle
of life, who are of one tiiind and heart with us, but also tho^e
who call themselves our enemies — men whom we wish to free
from error and evil that we may share with them the Ji>y^ of
4 restored unity."
These Study Circlet and Popular Institutes arc the two
chief work* or^-iriiied and devolopeU by Le Silloii, W« must
atudy them a little more closely^
5 34 The Social AcrtviTY of French Ca r/foucs.
m..
We will takt up first the Popular Insltlutcs. They arc far
\c&% numerous Ehaa the Study Circles. At the begioniiig ol
UsI year there were only about thirty. Those at Paris, Mar-
seiUes. Bordeaux. Roubatx. and LimogeE are (he mnst enrrgeTic.
What is a Popular Institute? It is an educational centre— •
home of learning — where Catholics lecture cvrry evening on
scientific, historical, philosophical, or econoniic questions. Any
one may attend these lectures. Those who originated thii
scheme desire that the audience should be chitfly non-Catholic
Even when that is the case, ihe Institute is still energetically
Catholic, because of ita promorers and directors.
"Our aim/' ^aid the director oE one of the chiel Tnstitutet
of Paris rect^ntly, "is io make every kctute ihat a Catholic
gives cfiicaciously apostolic. We fuccc<d in that aim, it i»
trucj when we &tudy the social activity of the Church and shcrw
the perfect harmony of philosophical and sociological principled-
with her teaching}. We want something more, however; we
want every lecture to have an apostolic as well as an educa-
tional value. For this nothing more is needed than that a very
simple reflection should foEcibly impress itself on (he hearcr-
This U the retlection we mean, 1 have ju£t heard an educated
man tell me what he believes to be the truth In this scitntific
question. He has sought the truth loyally and unreservedly.
Now [ know that he is a Catholic. The Catholic slate or mind
mu:^t, therefore, fit in well with the free search after facts. This
Catholic is not at all afraid that looking for the truth wiJ
compromise his faith,
"The day when one <*i the audience rcaAonft In this fashion
it can be truthfuUy said that the lecturer has done apostolic
work/'
Theae few lines show what the Popular Institutes are meant
to do. Unhappily there are not a^ yni enough of them, nor
are they well enough attended- Some, however, like tho'c of
R.oubaix and Limoges, bring together Audiences that number
hundreds of the common people^
The 5ludy Circles have been much more successful up to
ihe present- We meet ihtm noi only in most of the townflJ
even those that are small, but also in many purely couniryj
dbtricu.
The Study Circles arc periodical mcelinga held by thi
I
"HE
'ocTal
CTtVlTY QrF^EPfVH CATftOUCS. 's8S
young folks for cbe discussion of moral, economic, rcLigiouf,
ftnd other such questions. A infli-edut'attd man, priest or
Uyman, take» part in the debate. These circles are aomclbing
more tban centres of Christian thought. As a rule, they are
also centres ol Chnslian activiiy. In them efforts are made lo
find cut what sociaJ institutions can be organiKcd in the parish,
«nd from theni the first suppoEters ol these instltutiona are
drawn.
Many examples might be given. Probably the rnost srgnifi*
cartt, however. Is that ol Cbanch^ in Vendue. Some time ago
A young priest went to that parish as assistant. He found a
^tt&na£f there managed, or rather mismanaged, in the old
fashion. It was a club for only amusement and talk. Doys were
admitted from the time of their second Communion till they were
of age for mtltlary service (twenty-one years), and even alter
that, [n this place there were some twenty five or thirty mem-
bers, big and little. Our good priest was not afraid ol work.
He told htmsell that fia/ivna^ts should not be mere hot-houses,
but that they should also be laboratories for the formation of
Christians who might be us^cful to Church and Senile,
Accordingly, at the first meeting he delivered subslariially
thla short address L "My dear fHends, It la my ambition to
make you better Chrittians and better citizens day by day ^
CO make you devoted to the Church, and at the same time
lovers of France. . , . Do not be seliish. Do not keep
four love and devotion to yourselves. Be apostles. Whoever
comfit here simply for amuBcmpnt would do betTer to stay at
bomc and find his fun there."
They understood him and sat to work lo carry out this
splendid programme. Heestnblished talks forThtirsday evenings,
Ev«ry week the last half hour of the meeting was set apari
for Uule talks, which the prirst to^k upon bimsvir. He treated
in u Lntercsting a fashion as possible such Eubjccr:; as these:
"The Domestic Society, or the i'amily": "The Religious So*
ciety. or the Church "i '^Thc Civil Society, or the State/' and
to Ott. In a word, he gave them a regular course of philosophi-
cal 4nd social study. The older of those in attendance had to
make brief synopses of the talks.
Thiti firai traiLslormalion of ihe fiatrpnaj-f brought on olhersn
^r good priest made up his mind that he would no longer
do all the talking, but would get the yourtg men to speak.
Thu» A Study Circle was formed- This is ho'H Oa^ mttv^vi^ii
sSfi The Social Activity of Ffkh^ch Catholics, lF«b.
were conducted. At the opening i chairman wa£ appointed.
He would then call oa one of xhe members lo give a talk ca
ttie £ubj«ct which had bc^n a.££]gned at the previous meeting.
Wlien he hid finished his calk, the speaker had to answer ques-
tions an<^ objections which every one had the right to put.
At the end o! the meeting a subject wa^ chd^en for the fol-
lowing week.
This method produced excellent results at Chanch<5 — as it has
■ecured wherever foMowed. New menial horlion^i were opened
up for the members; their wills were strengthened, and they be-
came ncquainted with those vital questions that engage public
thought, As the members of thii brtnch are all country peo-
ple, they diBCLj^sed agricultural questions in particuUr — front «
practical as w^il as a theoretical standpojiit.
They are not selfish, They do not keep their learning to
themselves. They are most anxious to be apostles- As a con-
seqtence) thsy have inserted in Ihcir rule a clause which pro-
vides thai each private monthly conference ftball be followed
after a fortnight by a public conference which J« to be held in
the presence of the whole /^a/riwag^^ Vucnds and [datives are
invited lo this meeting. The subject treated in it is one that
has been handled already, one whose difficulties have all bcco
fcre&een and solved. At a meeting of rhis sort, the subject,
" Alcohol and Alcoholism/* was treated in the presence of
eighty communal electors. This meeting had a happy sequcL
It was Lhe means of etarticg a temperance society which has
a Urge membership und which exercises a bf^neficial influence
iti that neighborhood by distributing tracts and pamphlelSv
A like result was accomplished by another conference, which
investigated the subject of mortsliiy among cattle^ At the end
of the discussion a mutual aid society was formed to stamp
out those diseases which occasionally ruin f^meis^ Such are
some of the results achieved by the Study Circle at Chanch/,
under the guidance oj a devoted priest This t^xample does
not stand alone. We might tell of many another like jt-
EvETy day new bands are being formed. They hare the
same spirit and ardor which fill the Vcndeans of whom we have
just spoken. That is why our hearts are light in the midst of .
our present cares^ Wc feel that the Catholic young men of f
France see their duty, and are working hard to prove them-
selves worthy of their religious and social mission-
WIU.IAM HABINGTON AND HIS "CASTARA,"
HE wis(5om of lavishing attention upon potU of
second or ihifd-clast mciit has someiimes beta
diBput^d, but surely such an objection i& short-
sighted. For In the 5rsi pJacc, no mfal]|bk
amhonty for delcrmiinng the stMua of an au-
tijor has yet come inin existence* and " inliniie riches in a
litllc room" have more than once been revealed in a search
through forgotten pages. And again, it ia sometimes precisely
bccatiBc of his iLictJtations that a man ig i rite resting. The gff*at
jenias is cosmopolitan — ol all time and every age; the lesser
Vtar Is personal and national, and often very valuably provin-
cial. He has hi^ own individual message delivried in his own
particular way; and if it be a sincere and beautiful message,
wt can Bcarcely afTord to be wilhcuc it E&pecjally h the
truth of all this felt when ihe luinor poet happens to be such
an engaging person as William Habmgton-^and one whose life
wa3 so representative io its v«ry isolation^ By birth a gentle-
man and by nature a student, iL seemed probable at one time
that the priesthood would clnim him for its own. But love, !n
the pcfson oi " Ca^tara." came into Ilabington's life — and hia
name is handed down a poet 1 The single volume due to thiv
inspiration is th^ foundation of his literary fame, and to a
large extent the explanation of his life. Were at! outer dc-
taila ol bis biography lost, we should still know ihe he^rt of
this nualere but lovable young Knglishman from ihe revcla
tions ol hit Castara.
Happily, however, we have other channels of Informatlon-
ProRt the tci^n oE Henry IV., the Habington (or Ablnglon)
family had been a representative one, and during the six-
teenth century their annals were particularly stETriog. A cer-
tain John Habinglon whs cofferer to Queen EliKabeth, and
seerns to have lived peAcefully enough through those tumultu-
ou4 times; but his two «ona were of more radical temper.
Edward was executed in 15&6 foe patticipalioa in Anthony
58S WfLUAM HABllfGJVN A^'O ols'^ CASTA /iA ."
I
Bibington's conspiracy; dnd his brother Thomas (father of
our puct) w*9 only Ivfts unforUirttlc. His TriudJes at Oxford
had been supplemented at FariE and Rhclms. whence *' alter
some tinie spent there id good letters/' he returned to England
a very zealous Catholic. Although one lime Godson to Quern
EllEdbeth, Thomas Habmgton now acknowledged himaell an
adherent of Mary Stuart^and was promptly difpatched to Ihc
Tower- His imprisonment there ladled six years, and from
Anthr^ny ?i Wood's account we fcarn thai "he profiled more
in that time in several sorts oJ le&rning than he had before in
all his life-"* He seeing, indeud to have passed most cf his
subsequent years in scholarly piirsurt^, living at the famtty
estate of Hindlip Hill with his wife Mary — a sister of Loid
MounteagZe.
In the year i&oj., after p brief respite. King James revived
the penal law? against his Catholic su'ijects. Sevtre fine? for
recusancy were ontc more demandetl (even for the pciiod of
toleration); and in default of such payment^ atl the personal
goods and two-thirds of the lands of the vietim became for*
feit to the Crown- Hundreds of families were thus pauperised)
and condilians became more and more intolrrMb^r all over
England. t "It ii both odious and grievous," wrote Father
Gerard. ^' that true and free-born subjeeta should be given as
in prey lo others.** I^ut the worli went on; until the fanati-
cism of one little band of lealota rose to fever heal, and in the
mind of Robert Catesby was conceived the Gunpowder Plot,
As is weFl Wnown, (his conspiracy was discovered, and its hor-
rors averted, by means of a warning letter sent to Lord
Uounteagle. Its author has never been positively identified; ■
huL Wuud asserts that it was none other than Mary Habington-
On the very day which had been set for the Gunpowder aSair
—the fifth {or possibly the fourth) of November, 1605 — htr
son William wa« horn, It was in truth a troublous world upon
which the future poet opened hi* infant eyes; England, frc m
her vacillating King to her intensely Puritan Commons, feU
into a panic over the conspiracy. Catholics were m worte
repute than ever, and over the Jesuits [as uAual) burst the main
torrent of popular fury. In this crisis, I'ather Garnet, their
Provincial^ fled for shelter lo the home of the Habjngton*.
Hindlip was admirably adapted to the situation, containing no
I
.] WILUAM nABI.VCTON AND IIIS " CASTAKA." jB^
(ewer thui eleven secret chambers, and had veived bel^jre then
as a refuge for the persectilcd pricalhoorf. But the Govern-
ment was watching- Ir Janriary, ]6«36, afterascarch of eleven
dights And twelve day&, Garnet was d(&tDvercd; a ftw months
tftlcr he was exrculicd. And while the elder Habington's life
WB3 Spared^ it was on con<1itLijn chat h<; never ^ubscqurnily
put foot outside of Worceatahiie.
After that, Hindlip Hill was tranquil enough. WiEliam's
childhood passed uneventfully amid its beautilu] surroundings,
while hL& father pursued antiquarian researches 1^ the neigh-
boring cathedraU of Worcester and Chichester, 'At least ttto
chftMcl eristics of the poet's later life — his fervent and en-
lightened Catholicity and his love of peace — may be traced to
the traiuing o( these early year£. Foi bloody and lurbuUnt
meinorieB were a thing of the past 1o Hindlip ; little by litUc
tbc smoke of baEtle faded from Its walls, and sunHght ent<:tcd
in. When William waa old enough he was sent lo the famous
Jesuit College at St. Omer's, France: and ihe Fathers were so
much impressed by his virtue and ability ihat after a lime he
was ** earnestly invited to take upon him the habit of the
Jesuits/** [t would have seemed eminently filling (or a Habing-
ton TO enter that great Society, whose aims and dangers the
family had shared in England, but human destinies aic not
formed by such considerations. WiLliam, wlio was apparently
uncertain of his vocation, *' by cxcu»e& got free and left them/"
passing on to continue his studies at Paris. And as the fin&J
<l«ciaion wa& against the priesthood, he returned to England;
vhere, *' being then at man's estate," Wood tells us, "he was
iflAtrucied at home in matters of history by his father, and
became an accomplished genlleman/'f
Tt could not have been so very long after this that Hab-
ington met Luey Herbert, youngest daughter of the Karon
Towla — and his tr/0 natfvu commenced. *'I found/' he subac-
<^Qently wrote, "'that Oratory was dombe when it began to
Apcalc her^ and wonder ... a lethargie." His Ingenuous
little character ekelch of "A Mi-Stris " (prefixed to Cajfara)
gives a more detailed description of this " faireti treasure the
avarice of love can covet":
She U cluste. She is as fair a^ nature intended her, helpt
perhaps to a more pleasing grnce by Ibr aweetiie^6e «f educa*
lion, not by ih« slight of art. Stc U Touog. She is imio-
cent even from th? ktiowIef!ge o1 siunv^ She is not prond^
In hercflrriagp she is soher, and thinbea her yowth eipres-
s^(h hf? eiiongh, without the gittdj- mmion laahion of lAte
hfllh taken up. She dniit^cj} lo Ihe beat applsuse, bin doalu
I not on the vanhy ol it. She fiiugs. but cot perpelually, for
iliG Vnowts sikuce ici womuu h the njost persuading ordtork'
She never arrived ftt so much familiarity with luan is Co kisow
the diminutive of hia name, and call him by U, She U never
sad. Biid yet uol Jiggtsh- She ia not flmbilioui to be praisM
0ud yet vnllues death heuealh inromy.
To be leas tedious, the Lady Lucy stttms (from her lover's
count I) to have been dowered t«ith every perfection- But
ftbingion was not to find ttiis Rote of the WorM altogether
without its thorns. His family, although sn eminent one, was
ftcarcely i mate for the Herberts or the Fcrcys, whoAc blood
was mingled in Catlara';; veins; and his worldly fortunes were
doubtless far inferior to those of other suitors. But there was
something in the grave, cultured grace of this young student
to which the lady could not be |ind]lTrrent- And his unfalter-
ing aisurancct that they were created for each other had a
perauaiive power all their own, William Habington knew how
to love; and he told his £tory In a series n I poeitiG so severely
pure and so exquisitely tender that, in addition to winning
the heart of Lucy Herbert, they won hitn a place among the
niakars of Kngtish literature.
Very Ihlle did he think of that result, however, ae he penned
the praises of his well-beloved.
Let nil Ibc fliQOrQus Youth, whose fnire desire
Fell nevei warmth but from a, noble fice,
Brin^ hither their bright flames : which here tihall shine
As tapers 6xt about CastAra's shrcne.
While I the I'riesi. my untamed henrt surprise,
Aud ru this Teuiple mak't her sacnGce.
Thus charaeteristically does the little volume open; and
from lu First Pjirt we learn the story of iheir somewhU
checkered courtship. There is a charming Little poem "To
Castara. Fraying"; another to the same '* Softly Singinf to
Her 5cl(e/' And as evidence that, with all her jarc discre-
tion, Lucy Herbert was stiU a very woman, Habington has
I90(i.l WiLUAM HABtMGTON AND HtS'* CASTA RA** S91
[flft some beautiful verses '* To Caatara, Ini]iiinng why I loved
hef."
Why (be reiCTls) doth the aiubbotne ifoo pfov*
^^^^^ So gentle to ih" magneiiquc stone ?
^^^^^ft How knnw you that IItf orbs do move ;
^^^^^P With inueiok« loo i Since heard of none?
^^^^F And I cviJl answer why I luv«^
^^ Bui
[ to the
But, not un naturally, our yourg po^t was keenly sensiiive
to the opposition of Ca^tara'f family. In lines addressed to
her "right honourable" mothei, he impetuously wishes th^t
bis high-born mistress were
The daughter of some m<iuntam cottager,
Who^ with his toiTe wome otii. coold dying leave
Her no more dowre th&n what ahe did rec^eive
From bourn eons Nature.
L bis hit
I And a few pages further on, we find him boldly asserting
' thai:
Parenia lawes must bear uo wejglit
When they Lappincsse preveiii.
The lady, however, was too dutiful to heed auch queationa-
ble doctrine; and she was finally induced co leave town for
S«ymour«, on the Thames, lUblngton — after thv manner of
disconsolate love r^-^ com poted a number of poems lamenting
her 8bKnce> immonalifing "a trembling ktsse " stolen at ihe
moment of departure, and berating his fritnds for ibeii phiEc-
■ophicaE advice. Then, very seneiblyi he followed her.
Sub>»equ^nt litles' — "To Castara, Being debarr'd her pies*
eoce"; and *'To the Dew. In hope to see Cast&ra walking" —
»hvr in the pastoral phase of ihi« romauc«- Uiid«r Ihc " Ictnde
thjidaw " of !iome friendly tree, cr on the banks of the " cour-
teous Thamei," the old vows were once more repealed; and
love had grown ttrong and brave duiiri); thote months of pio-
bation — far loo «rong to fen r what the hand of man eould dof
The young lovers had passed ilicir PurgRioiy, and now the
gate* of TaradiBc were opened wide before ihem.
Vet are we no by Ijore rcfin'dj
prom impure drus>ie wv are all mind.
Daaib could not uioie have eouquer'd sence-^
553 WFLLTAM f/ASmCTON AND HlS" CASTAXA.^ [Fcbu,
Thus Habingion wrote in Ihe climjut of his grejit joy^ A
touch of the uneacthly, a ccrt^m kinship wiih ihc angels^tcm-
[>i:rcd hie moU ardent momenu; and jt is this spiritual cle-
ment^ more (hnn any other, (hat has separated h\% tongs Irom
the somewhat *' madding crowd" uf Cupid's voCarics-
Thc marrj^gt of our poet and his Castara wa$ consom-
Riated sometime belwetn i6jd and 1633^^^ cannot be certain
ol ihc exact date. But that it was an ideal one, the Second
Part of the poems abundanUy teblifies. It £eeais probable Ihat
the Baron Powis was Lo the last unyielding, lor ofie fnf ihe
^ncst of the^e compositions implorGS his parental bJeasing aa
the one thing needful lor their happiness^
Htc th' astonisht apiing
Heard in the ayre the feather'd people sing,
Hrr time had mottoa, or the suune ohtaiti'd
His province o'er the day, tliis was of Jain^d,
declare* the Intrepid bridegroom. At!d iurely the most
durate of fathers could scarcely be unmoved by such a pTs
ending as it does wth the assurance —
To m«
Ther's nought beyond thisn The whole world Is she.
To jusi what cictent Ca&tara'A worth was "above rubies,"
Habington has not left us ignorant. A second prose portrait
— this time of "A Wife "—is inserted among the poems; and
reading it, we cacinot wonder that he calls her 'Hhe sweetest
part in the harmony of our being." He writes:
She b so true a fitend, her husband may to her cotamum-
cale even his ambitions, and if succe^se crowne not expecta-
tloDn remaine neve rtb el esse uncontemncd. She is colleague
with him in Ihe empire of prosperity ; and a safe rciyring
place when ndver^ily esfiles hitn from the world. She is in*
qnisitive only of new wsyes to pli:ase him, and hei wit saylea
by no other compasse than that of his direction. She looks
upon him as conjurers upon the circle, beyond which there IJ
nothing but death and hell ; and in him she helie^'es Para-
dise circumacrib'd- His wirtncs are her wonder and imiia-
tfttion; and his errors^ herctedulite thinkes no mor^ frailtie
than makes him descend to the title of man.
1906-] WILUAM HABiNGTQN AI^D HIS " CASTA XA" 593
So, if Habidgton di<J not cease to be a lover wh*n he be-
came a husband, the credit was possibly not all his own f
During those early y eats ol his married life, our p^t seems
to have fdt an almost excessive shrinklng^ from pubjfc activiiy.
Political struggles had brought hi^ fHmJly v^ry n^ar (0 ahip-
tfreclc In rhc old d^ys, and he had no wish to venture upon
the stormy maLn. For, although there was no active persecu-
tion under King Charles. CatholicJi knew full wpH that ihcy
were merely tolerated in England, and their wisdom lay in
much quietness. It Is doubtful, too^ if Haibington chafed
greatly under this restraint The ppaceful tfiLderness of his
life wilh Castara is reflected in poem afier po^m : he writes
of her *' Bciny Sjcke/* then of her recovery; and on the first
anniversary of their marriage he compares their passion to the
sunlight:
Which had incteast, but that by love"^ decree,
'Twos aDch at first, ft ne*rc could greater be.
In the cour*e of time two children were born to them —
Thomas and Catherine — of whom we unfortunately know very
IEttl«. But such glimpses of the home life as do reach tiB
maJce line& like the following entirely comprehensible:
Though with larger sail
Some fiance upon the Ocean, yet more traile
Add faithlessc is that wave than where we ^lide*
, , . And caude our boat
Due* cot affironc the weather, we*Ie ne're fioat
F«m froui the ^hore.
Another, and most amiable side of Habington's chafacter
Ig revealed through his friendship with George Talbot^ brother
of tbe Earl of Shrewsbury. The two were cousins and had
doubtkat been close friends from childhood, Both had known
the culture of "a tibefall education/' and both developed into
men of acvercly high and noble nature. Looking back after
Talbot't death, it seemed to llabing^ton that his friend had
Inherited "the vcrtnes uf all hi»i progGnilors *'; and he mused
lovingly how frank nnd open had been hU speech; yet how
faithful his guarding of another's secret; how he was "abso-
lute governor, no de^rrover of his passions," and ko generous
that he could forgive an injury. As for Talbot, he declared.
594 \^JLUAM HABtNGTON AND HIS " Ca^TARA" [Feb?
in verses Xa his " best friend and kiii^man, WiUiAm H^blng-
ton," Ihe absolute unity "in blood as study" between tbrm,
and that their sole contcnilon was ''who should be best pAt-
terne of a fricndn" Indocd, Ca-stara hcrscJf did not rcplacv
this older companionship: in th^? very midsi oi his courtship,
Habington found time to reproach Talbot for an tfbaence of
iAift days i But thJa friendship was destined (as great affec-
tions so often arc) to be the nuean^ of a mighty sorrow- It is
not djfltculc 10 picture the darkacBe which envdoped our poet's
life when the hand of death fell precipitately upon the vigor-
ous manhood of hW friend. Fflr teti days Habirgton was
spee<!hlcs£ with grief. Then he sought relief in the touching
Eicgies whjch add a new solcmnily to the 1635 edition of
Castara. They are eight in number, perhaps the most pow-
erful being the second:
Talbot IB dead. Like lightning which no part
O tb' body toitche», but grst strikea the heart,
This wnrd halh mUTdcr'd me, . , .
J
No man can look straight into the eyes of death without
having hi* aspect of life transformed. After that year, [654,
William Habington was no longer the weaver of delicious day*
dreamflf the tireless singer of Caetara's praises, He was her
faithful and devoted husband: but that was not all. In the
studious repos« of Hindllp Hill, we find the quondam poet
giving himself more and more to historical research. He pro-
duced — in collaboration with his father — a Historif of Edward
IV., Kin^ of England, which was published in 1640 **as the
dasire of King Charles I." That same year saw the appear-
ance of his Quffiif of Ar^i^er}, a tragic. comedy of considera-
ble merit, which the Earl of I'embroke "caused to be acted at
Court, and afterwards to be published against th« author's
will*"* One little dialogue in this play lakes on no little in-
terest from the tradition ol Habinglon's Republican sympa-
thies. It ifi the foUowIng:
The stars shoot
An equal influence on the open cottage
Where the poor shepherd's child is rudely nurs'd.
And on the cradle where the prince ia roclc'd
With care aud whisper.
■Wao4, tU n^nL
And wtat hence infer you?
Tliflt no disliTiclioTi IS 'tween raati atjjl tnan
Bui n^ his vlftucA add to him ci glory,
Or vlc«fl cloud liini.
Tbc» »cntimcnt» may or may noi have been pergonal with
the Aurhor ; but when we recall the Royalifii doctrine of divine
ri^hl, dud even Cromwell's prefci^nce for a "gentleman," we
ptfcelvc how radical their tenor really was.
Popular opinion ib too apt to concede to the Puritans of
thftC day a monopoly of Hnglith pieiy; but the intensity and
austerity of HabfTigton'^ later poems might, if better known,
serve aa a wholesome antidote- The Thud Tart of CasSara —
issued in 1639-40 — has compaiatively tittle in common with
the earlier pages. Its poems, composed mainly upon Scrip-
ttiral texts* possess a solemnity, a deiBcbtncnt ihat Is most im-
pressive^ Prom a man like lUbington, indeed, it is almost
alarming. All tmoe of the youlhltil lover, who caught the
sound of Castara'a name In the brook*9 "harmonious mur-
mures/' or fancied Cupid buried in the dj'iuflc of her cheek,
has disappeared. The intense seriousness of life, the mutability
of human joys, man's high destiny and the dread allernativc
of hell — these are now the poet's themes. We have before re-
ferred to Habin^ton'fi custom of inseitjn^ prose sketches which
Strike the Iceyooie of the various poems; at first it was the
"Mistris"; then the "Wife"; siill later, the *' Friend," But
for this Third Part was resctved the moet famous of all'^his
vision of '*A Holy Man/' Jt seems a thousand pities to mar
the continuity of this siudy^so wise, so sane, to full of aus-
tere beauty— by a mere exiiact; but the whole is too iocg to
quote. The Holy Man alone, declares Habin^on, is truly
happy ;
In ptoaperiiy he gratefully adtu^tcfl the bounty of lh«
Almighty giver, ami Tiseth, not ahniteth, plvnty ; hut iri cid-
versity he rcmainea unshaken, and lilce some eminent monn-
tmin hath hia head abovt Ihe cloiidh. . - . Fume he
weighcH not, h\\\ ealeemes a amOHke, yet such as carries
with II the sweeteit odour, and riseth usually from the
sacrifice 01 our beat actions.
There is no trace of self- righteousness in this little sermon^
For seldome, says the preacher, the folly we condemne
595 WILUAM JtABIXCTOU AA'D WS " CASTAJtAr [Feb.,
is so f ulpabic aa ihz severity of ourjudgeui«iit- ■ ■ . To
Wve Tie knowes a benefit, and tlie ODlCtupt of \l itlgratllud«,
hul - . . Ht^ntli, how dcfom^ed soever an aapcci il veftrcSa
be is cot faighted with : sincr it not aDBibilatcs but bh-
cloud«s the soule.
There would seem to b« more thun a supeificial BignificflDoe
m ihis chaagc in Habin^ton'a menial atldudc. Was the weight
of $ix ad^iiliortal j'c»fs, the maturing of a dctply eerrous ra-
sure, even the death oF George Talhoc, sufficient explanation of
it? Or did, perhaps, dreams of a lost vocation haunE the soul
of our poet? Only hi^ God (and possibly his Castara) could
know what chaslentng hand had rested upon Ihal heart. But
surel/ It was riot in the school of ease or joy or human con-
solalion that Habington Icatncd to write words like those clos*
tog ones of C^titawa ;
My Gad I If 'Us thy gTcat detrte
That this ruiist the last tDomtrnt bt^
Wherein 1 breathe this ayre ;
My heart obeyes* joy'd to retteate
From the false favours of the great
And treachery of tho faire.
■ ■■■•■
Tor in the fire wheTi ore Is iryed.
And by thnt torment pun6cd.
Doe we deplori* the losae?
And wheij Uioii flbaTl my ftoule refine,
That 11 thereby may purer shine ,
Shall t grieve Tor the dro^ef
Our poet's la^ter years were passed amid much tuimoil, and
(cw detaib have survived^ In 1641 appeared the last of hU
published worlcs — Obstrvatknt upon Histprh ; the next y«»r
saw England dark with the smoke of her Civil War, Habing-
lou's love of freedom must have rendered him but a balf-
hcAned Royalist; yet with the fanaticism of the reformers he
could have no sympathy whatever. Moreover, jf there wa^ one
word which fired every spark of Puritan wrath and Puritan hos-
tility, that word was Popery. A scapegoat hat at ^l litati
been found convenient; and there it a certain Brim humor iia
those Parliamentary proclamations which hold CAtholicJiy re*
igo6.] William Habingtqn AND H/s" Castara:' 557
sponsible for the siak and atllklionR of Protestant England,
"Under such circurnatances/^ says Dr. Ungard, " ihc Catholics
found themselves tjiposcd to insult and persecution wherever
the in^uencc of the parlJamem extended; for prolection they
were compelled to flee to the quarters ol the RoyalUts, And to
fight under their banners; and this egain coniirmcd the pre-
judice ^gamat them, and exposed them to additional obloquy
ftnd punishment,"* William Hablnglon* tays Anthony ^ Wood,
"did then run with the times, and wag not unknown to Oliver
the Usurper'* — words so sjtibiguous that we long lo tall the
old Oxford chronicler back from hLs giave and demand an ex-
planation. Very precious, too> would be some news of Lucy
Habington during those " evil days/' But nothing is clear ia\c
Ihe one ultimate fact of our pact's hisloiy, On the thirtieth
of November, 1654 — *t the commencement of his fiftieth ye4t—
WilHam Ifabington died. His body was laid (□ rest in the old
vault at Hindtip, by the side of his lather and his grandfaihcr
- — and not improbably close to his beloved Castara Various
manuacripts were left in the posaebeion of young Thomas Ha-
bington, but they have yet to be of service to the literary
world-
It is unneccs&jiry in the present paper to discuss Habing-
ton's histoiical works- They arc scarcely read tO'day, having
bEeu supplanted by more recent scholarship; although wc have
Edward Phillips' word that twenty years after our author's
death, his Hisiorit of Edwnrd IV. was better known than hig
Caiitira,\ The Quttne of Aragon also was very favorably re-
garded by hii Cijfi temporaries, being revived during the Res-
toration. In its prologue* Habington dcclart& the language of
this drama to be " ea&y, £iich as fell unstudied from his pen"
^^n assertion the reader will be trmpied to take ium ^rarro
satis. As might be expected, there is ± great dtal of beauty
in the love pa^satfes, and a certain loftiness of lone Ihroufjhoul.
Its characterixation. too, is often full of vivacity, upccJally in
ihe case of Clcantha ;
Madam (observes this iprightly beauty)
I have Dtany sc;vantSH but not one 3D vatJKnt
As dares attempt to mftrry mc.
Her wit is a constant delight, and renders Cleantha almost a
worthy companion piece to Shakespeare's immoriat Iteauice*
* Itiitffwf a/ ff^^attJ. Vol. VIII. CH, J. r T/uiirKwi J'iiUritn,
dMD HfS - CASTARAr (Feb.,
*«
•I
A IfTfeC poet thM WtJlUoi Hibinglon
th>B»If took po«irr vltb slight
Ugb A rftCc (>|jfia it as to give
be oocc wrote. In tbc
Etitade WAf br do meaas unufual,
\ ft wotioD than as a graceful
■Mdl bud juidc 1(5 composition
jrcan, ffoa 1640 to J660. So,
pevBiiltvd hU verses lo float
**J|Bpetian]ly prevailed aad
1*4* tbe B«re perouneni form of a
E» Ift54« CaCAcftf wafc afjon^mously pub-
faall-pfajrfv] asseriioTi fhac "to write
r fcon/ei. froa besineste «od iry more ftc-
«n^{«kkft appealed almtnt simultaneously
««^ net vitli s«cb su^cet^ chat a second
m dsriac tbe foUomirie yejir, and a ibiid —
t&^ Siace tbeo, C^stan^ hn^ been little
» C«a«til; aad by the critics ti has be<n
**UAt pciue." We have already indicated
■oe dBBt« to be a poet by profession j he
h«a voat strong emotion — love or grieJ or
otf tbe bood« of habitual reserve, and
1^ vClfl!* ^ Ua iMpritooed fancy. From such momenU
tt Wjvtftd: ttd beottse those tnoments were rare, he
W j a ^t i iSMC poeu of the first order. Scarcely any
mM M V* ImI the exquisite beauty and sincerity of
r^
DD
-wm m. pMt <«lr
V» MV ftttd «oo'd eacb other s eyes,
My atttth ceotracied then with tbme,
And both butni in one sactiEce.
Ht ttbkb «m mainage jerew divine.
XWv ^t^ aMoBg ibe moei characteristic Habington ever
|^H« Htal Pirbapa fi^ttftlly cbarmmg in its fasbJon, and wilb
4 I«MMi f|t»k hiytiPfiiitTTT tbat recalls the lyrics of Elicabetb's
\ owea at« vatne. No suppliant breath
t^«vM the I'pcedol swift-hecVd death.
I9o6.] WILUAM HABlNGTOh' Af^D HIS " CASTAITj^" 599
Life TFitli b«t {5 gone &nd I
Learne hut a new way to dyt.
See lUe Qowef« coudok. ftad all
Wither t a my funcrall,
The bright lilly, as if day
Parted with her, fades away.
Violets bang Iheir heads, and lose
All their beauty. That the i<tse
A sad part in sorrow hearts .
WitQcsse all these dewy tearea,
Which as pearlc or dyatnoud like
Swell upon ber bluahiug cheeke-
All IhingH nsoiLme, but, oil T heboid
How the wilher'd ranrigold
CJosetb up oow she H gone.
Judging her the setting suiiiic.
After the manner at its own age, Castara may be said to
have accomplished very much what Coventry I'atmorc essayed
in TAt Anj^el in the Hcu5£ — the gLonfication of domeatic love.
In delicacy of imagination, tcndemcFs of fientimenl, and a cer-
tain even felicity □! verse, it has lew rivals.
Habingtoa's religioua poems form a curious contrast to those
<ii Richard Crashaw, which appeared only five years liter. They
have almost no tr^ce of the younger ^loet's ccsEasy of joy and
tenderness, nor of his lyric melody. But they have the awe-
tome solcoiDity of f^f'OfT organ music; and fiometlmes " heart-
(tCTturbing " echoes of the '* Dies Ira^" seen doating through
the lines:
Etemitie 1 when I think ihee
(Which never any end inu%t have,
Norknew'st begiunitig), and foresee
Hell is desjgn'd for sinnc a grave.
My frighted ttesh trembles to dust,
My blood cbbcB leatefully away ;
Both guilty that tbey did to lust
And vanity my youth betray-
There t9 a simj^Mcityt h directness in our poet's verse which
is very r&re among bis contemporaries. Neither the overwrought
fanciea of the Italian school nor the subtlety and perversity
of th« so-called '* Metaphysical '* poete seems to have touched
6oo William Habington aa'b His " Casta if a." [Feb,
him. Perhaps that mgjatent moderation ^^hJch hampered llabing-
ton when he would seals the heights of lyric beauty, al&o saved
him (Tftm the vJcct of his age. For in his literary, as in bis
private life. WliEiam Habington was *' lik« a star and dwelt
jipart.*' A modest star be wa£ — yet one from whom others
have taken tight ior their pathway. We cannot read ht£ linen
on "The Grave," for example, without being conscious that
they cont^n nearly the whole of Grey's Immortal Elegy — in
embryo, as jC were.
Professor Saintsbury has remarked that our poet's wotk U
"InvaFuable as showing the countcrtide to Milton* the Catholic
Pufitanifim which is no doubt inherent in the English nature****
It ia a very just criticism, although the word puriiy might ad-
vantageously be substituted for Puritanisin- Although by no
means devoid ol humor— nor of satire^ when occasion required
— 'Hiibington was pre-eminently a man of high seriousness. And
his poems are essentially a part of himself. They reveal a
nature too proud to stoop to any littleness, yet too gentle for
bigotry or censoriousness : a character Jn which learning had
been tempcreri and vitaJiieri by the power of love, and where
the graces of life Nourished but as blossoms of some heavenly
Iruit. George Talbot was nowise blinded by friendship when
he wrote that affe[:tionate tittle preface to CastAta :
Beyond your state [he told his friend)
May be a prouder, not a happier fate.
1 write not this in hope t'incroach on lamCt
Or adde a greater Ensttc to your name, _
Brighl in its«l1e enough . , ,
. , But 1 who Icuow
Thy soule religious to her ends, where gtov
No sinnes bv art or custome. boldly can
Stile ibee more than good poet, « good man.
And we to-day can reach no truer estimate of Wllllatti
Hablngton.
LIFE AND MONEY.
BY WIM.IAM J- KERBY, TH.D,
N a preceding arltclc rcferrncc was made to Xhe
forces which cause our wanU lo expand and to
those which tend la discipline or rrprcss thcni.
Thfi former extend activity, and widen the cir-
cle of jntercats. and insure development; while
the Utter direct and control that growth. The natuial ten-
dertcy of nur wants to expand i$ strengthened by our ideal of
progress, by popular agitation, by custom, political teaching,
education, and by the spirit and methods of business. Difci-
pline and order arc introduced amung our wants by Christian
teicbingp moral law. and conscience, public opinion, education.
civil law, and, in an important way, by Income. For, the giea^
njajorily, isince they have not sufficient muney to allow indis-
criminate satisfaction of wants, are compelled to make choice,
10 forego plciHurae, to submit to a self-denial, at once whole-
•ome and more or less severe. Credit methods in bnt.ineas
have, to some extent, injured this discipline by permitting
many to escape ihe limitalionE which small income would
otherwise impose. Many are enabled to live beyond Iheir
m^ans and are exposed to temptations against property, per-
■OD, and honor which cause great anguish and. loo cften, the
moral ruin of Itle^ When one maintains a standard in ftiod,
clothing, residence, leisure, and amueenienl, by exhausting one's
credit without developing resources to offset this, one Is guilty
of conduct which entails the most di^Ereasing consequences.
Our willlngne^j^ to increase wnnte, and our reluctant sub-
mitsioR to the discipline of them, may be ascribed to many cause?.
Naitire't instinct leads us to want thtagt. It U life. Not to
want, not to strive, is stagnation, death. We commence life,
creatures of many wants. And iill of the consciousness of our
eArliesi years is centred on wanting things and getting thctn.
Only late in life do we realize what is meant by cost, sacri-
fice, or pain and labor in procuring needed things. From in-
fancy we are aware o^ appetite, need, disappomiivtrLX, ^\t»A^\t
tea
rfS AA'D MOXEY.
[Feb,
but we I«Arn by aJoM, awkwaid^ later process, the law of cost
ukd ol exchmge- Wiib muiy <hc >ca»c of ctHt •in<i of sacfi-
ftcc 4oci aoc peiiecrue iic<ply eaougb iato the cioral coa-
•cioBMkCOT to coooHmte & cfatck on desire. An epoch is be-
fttB ifl a hM M BB life wbn, for the ftnt tiotc, it realUcs the law
«l «aM •»4 pwporto» itt VBckuige— that Mmeibing must b«
^^na^ A Mcriitt aad^ far vfeu ii received.
^^■(^v tVMAttrttv if^a cM g ^ o4 real w4nt^ ourinability to dis-
HB^mA MttI Iroa ^agiaary vuiet, cur lack of a standard of
'vB^B ^K^Bv BAT ^Bvtth ill ttfo factorb in hmdrring thr disci.
We bear evtry dty tb«t men cat unwlse-
ia « vay to i^jare health. Custom,
•ociil iai|Nilses govern us in what wc
ol Mtbiyi!^ desires, when we should
by knowledge of nature and by
ae real values in life-
its has an important rclaiion to
Ts wants prudently, one is apt,
CO axpcttd i1 Without jtidgtoenr, and
If ••« is Torcrd to choose between
dnss, and one prefers the latter,
eadeavorlac to increase one's jncoine-
has is a more important thing
i^rvmt^ mttmmi^ MaAT arcades aim at the lattery few
Vte ««^«e.. b <• cvflMMkary to express nominal income in
i^ 4A*i> Keal ia co a w consists in the quantity of eon.
iacttne ean procure. It is evi-
fy VmI teMM dtpeads on prices, and on one's
mm4 ipfattvat ift I^MMdiftf. and on small cconoimjes which good
(woks tfiL Hmkc;. wisdom in spending money is as
«cc«i» felting it. Ruskin tells us thai
pia MOO^ for one who can use it; and
l«tf tMKndoal a&d for nation is never 'how
^^i\ ^ fb«y MftlMb' Wi *tift vhat purpose do they spend.'"
j*^i|^ ^ ^4^ BWlita di*CO«itent, which is formulated by
i^l^^t a^di ■jciafall, is directed toward income condi-
Oa^ ««a MinrMly d«ny that ia vatt numbers of cases,
^MABi to MMiSiai**^ ^'^ ^^ eqaally viul question of spend-
te ^twy to >^<iiTri1 wtrts mi>ch in the way of reform
^Bfejh ^ »niH»BTfcT^ 6y hgbi judgment in expenditLir«. The
■te «l K^ afiJ WiC*4y ol ibe poor is that they who have
^^ in,fv*f 4IO vi» oft«l tow* wise in spending it and are
KL
I90&]
LTFE AffD MOXEY.
603
most exposed lo adulur^lion. high prices, purchase m amnll
<3oaptiiy, and bad judgment in th* use o* what Ihcy do procure
Saving money, Uiougb wise. Is nt>l the chief wisdom ol
life- — spending it w*U ia wisdom- Aside from general occa-
lional »dmonilion5 against extravagance and (?ebi made in the
pulpil. there H little impressive and efFective teaching on thia
Vital fjuesition. Even tabor unions and sodaEisia, professed
representative B of the laboring mi'llionB. bend Ihetr energies
toward increasing income rather than toward increasing wis-
dom in the use o( what laborers now have. Possibly the con-
viction prevails that laborers' income is now so much less than
whftt it ought to be, that there ia no chance to save, except
ftt savjng is efTccted in insurance and union dues. Then too
a clus which saves money is apt to be contented, while unions
exist to foster discontent. Increased wants cause increased
Consumption, which mean* more business, more labor, higher
wages, and this is always an attractWe prospect tor the laborer.
Whatever be the explanation, ti is evident that society does
I not tumish us with suHicicnt Impressive and effective teaching
an to wisdom tn our wants, discipline in our desires, jydgiaent
in tise of income. Even Within the limits ot civil and moral
law and conscience, there is room for the greatest ignorance,
error, and misdirection. Rrght direction of life implies a full
de6nition of it in terms oi life, understood, respected, obeyed.
IJadpmenc of values In life should be based on It, and restraints
in life should come from it. Life may not be expressed in
term% that are below it. Right discipline of wants is pari of
iifc, hence it is interior and vital. If men depend on external
lav, on public opinion, on chance, and accept only such ex-
ternal discipline as these give, they live on a low plane. If
meo hnow no discipline other than the restraint of Income,
ihey cannot live nobly. Among ihe great majority of men,
there afe few who would not eagerly change their siandaida,
habili of life, and forms of enjoyment, if some chance should
f treble their income; life is so Jictle sell- contained and >o weak
in interior discipline.
One's attitude to money is a commentary on one's whol«
I philosophy of life. Hence, no other study will yield better
I results for understandiug life than inveBligatlon of our Habita
of expenditure. Statistica] data arc not easily procured, but
points of view arc not without interestn While it ia difTicult to
classify men by their manner of expcndituie, OTve tea>^\V| ^'u-
«w
Life akd money.
[pS7
dcT^undfi a point of view, and one may, with a moment's re<
flection, And abundant illuslrfliLon in one's daily experience.
A 5rst point of view \%\ dispoMhg of tncomo i£ that of
those who spend what they %^\y\-^ Money is opponunhy, und
opportunity should be embracedn Whatever need asserts ii-
self, that need, with little dtscnmination ae to its imporlaocv^
will be salisfieri when money is Ht hand. The improvident, eesy-
going) and thoughtless, thos>? who Itve entirely in the present,
and neither learn from yesterday's misfortune, nor think of to-
morrow's risk, belong to Eh!s elaa&. Some among thcEc save
small amounts in benefit associations, many of them give rcl^
lively much in charily, but life has no hopes to inspire am-
bition, DO outlook Eo stimulate ftcH-denidl, and no reward to fl
promote indugiry. Hence< eKistence dwindles down to the
present Uuless enjoyment of what the day's luck or week's lo*
come o^efK^ In these classes, kuta^tic needs are as pressing
a? real ones, nnd sentiment is as important as furniture. A
philanthropic business man once gave a destiiute family $25,
which was used to purchase two large photographs of the
family, in gaudy framcSj one of which was wilh much joy and
ceremony given to the benefactor.
This point of view ia by no means confined to the poor.
Large numbers of the salariEd clae^ share it and display the
same lack of foresight and wisdom. No doubt Ufe insurance fl
contributes Co this, for one may any day hear men cxcute tbeir
extravagance by saying that they carry life insurance to pro-
tect their famiJies, and that therefore they j^Af spend what
they make and enjoy life. Dttm vMtfttts, vivam^s.
\U
J
A second point of view H that of those who speed Iccome
according to the standard of a social class lo which they be>
long or to which they aspire. Whether or not one is actually
a^nciated with the members of a given clats, one may aspiie
to be rated as in its grade of life, and then one ^x<* odc*s
standard of life act^ordiuj-ly, Those who constitute such a ctaM
are held strongly to its stundatd. Their desire for approval,
fear of diminution, of being "declassed," eo to speak, their
instiaci tor rivalry bold them rigidly to the class standard, and
they eat and dritik and ma,Ve m«trj,dtc^ and enlcrl-iin. trEvel
I
IQo6.
Life and $foh'XY.
605
and ai}joy life, not as their personal needs and heart's deepest
wish dktate, but as ihe social class commands. Thicughout
2II of (his proc«s, show is prominentn One watches cflcct,
one enjoyfi on fy when one feciifi that others Look on, notice, and
approve. One goes to the opera, the seaside, not lo hcnr, or sec,
or profit really, but lo be seen, to be conspicuous. When in-
Goine \i great enough to peTinil this, no particular distress
other than that of foolish mockery results. But when income
U insuflicirfntp when this standard i? relatively beyond one's
meaiis, the greatest distress foUcws.
This social standard, which fixes food, clothing* residence, and
such neccasilies, la at once Inclusive and exclusive. Il forbids
to its Bubjecis certain kinds of revenue and productive lafaor.
Mrhile it enforces dignity, leisure, and thus inipogefi gfeat hard,
thip. The acceptance of this social standard, with all that it
entails in every direction, causes struggle* engenders false am-
bition, and fosters vain hopes. And yet those who accept it,
identify it with life lUelf,
If our social classes which now follow given standards were
constructed along the lines of equal income, but little trouble
would result. However, it is the misfortune of us alt that ac-
cldent, choke, social impulse, business sympathy, and atnbj-
tion throw us into classes without any thought about equal in-
come- Thus, those with $3»ooo income aie thrown with Ihose
of $4,000; those with $5,000 are thrown with those of $7,000.
Thjt is the tragedy to which we ourselves add, by attempting,
whatever ojr income, to associate with those who have more,
and not with those who have less. As a result, many men live
beyond Income, and even when living within it, a large portion
of it \s perverted from real human needs to imaginary wants.
There was some appearance of reason in the attempt centuries
ago to maintain men in their own cUsscj by Icgislaiing to con-
trol them in their expenditures. Democracy does not de$1roy
clashes: it reftrrunges ihem.»
■ " Thinks m rlir ininjr inf Mit, It Ttiny com? tq pnu iTinT itiD nHiinrDTe i^urvit- nut i|]«
ILTAUB^auon pro|it( ic Uidr uwu ha[ufv« but ilhe %T^\.\U\-*\\-ji\ pfa\t'ci iu tlic nntUK □( [hv Ln-
flvniUl *JIR" Ko"!, f:nmJali^im/ iicfitlt/ji. f, 163, "Tha oDELan rfipr hnm*n wcipfb
1> ib*44ki>*<t noT t/ iichl' v*ni«iEt of pdnitrLBJ rEUnliiici, buiby ibe Irak at Huniunipiioi , . ,
oaIu t^ffVUlAr)^ fiiiijl4lL«D aba'* aL| aihvr tvnna id ritAlry, And ■neEK<]-'Ji ■ liui vf purfilr
iMCiiiiom i*HriTi, vhkJt <9ri liilot>rinK an lntpn<i*(p Jiiivkr^ AM^e lop ot KkK^j \ rlirri, tcm.iito
Uof d«vn Lh(4U£h ilia Hwtat >lr*r«, iIi<k Avnrk itiyn* * kHijui jimiHii^ivn i>l i^tccnta tiaat iti*
fito At riMlbiiniAn nupdi," Utm. «3i, "The tnuKterd ot Uvine of 4ii» nXtM. a' fw m
Dti'^niipnE-kronniTii'iiiiiut wp^ic, Jadmm<ii]l)ru tilgfta nn rho cdmingc^jiAoti* ^ Uie
iirill ^lEREilL. wlUi ■ Eiudcik-v.ki/ k;u httflivr." VvbEEn, T*^f t/ *Jkt Iti/wrt iltwt. 9.
Ltfs and Money,
L
Each cTxsa in society aim& \o reach tbe lev«t of th« cIam
next above it^ members of a c1a«s cottin>on1y >»eek to canfonn
to iu standard of Wlc^ and the standard of life generally lenn*
to be pUced as high » possible. When wc find people of all
grades of income thus grogped^aclrd upon by general social
forces, and seeking by every impulse and feeling to coofoTED
to ft siactdard which is bcvond income — we behold rcfult*
which arc of the highest Lmportancc in the history of the noralf
of the race-
fa) Noble persons of thiR typ^, in whom mornl sense i>
strong, whoie grasp on ethical principles is unyielding, atid
who arc possessed of ethical self-coniro!, will scarcely eulTer
any moral deierioTation, but they are subjected to great instJely
and to all the pangs of martyrdom in maintaitiing a social
standard which in beyond their meansp Farvnts will retire lo
the background, in order to maintain Ihe level for their children ;
husbands sacrifice, that wives may bt noticed, and they bcrtd
every energy to the business of money -mah in g, in order to
keep up the unei^ual struggle; sclf^deniaHn private is necessary
to make show In public. Hack-hire, theatre ticket*, receptions,
fashionable fchools. seem as important posflbly as goodcJothcSt
substantial food, and dei^ent dwellingr One might live in a
neighborhood where rent is lower or property cheaper; Ofte
might wear ready-made instead oi Tailor-made doibes, oao
might buy te^s expensive, if equally nutritious food, and one
might have simpler aTnu&ements and fewer vacation trip&, B&t
one will not The standard of life adopted is life itself, and
one resists diminution Jis one would a form of annihilation. In-
come is not aufRcient to afford all that this standard involves,
llencc ftluggle, worry and di&appointmrnt, bitt no iota of con-
science, or decent self^reRpect is sacrificed- Such arc noble, trve-
hearted men and wotnen, who are caught in the social curient,
mistake it for life, and, without question, attcoipl to conform
their lives to it.
{b) Others, however, are not so high-minded- They too at*
tempt to live in a manner not warranted by income, but Ihey
suffer morally in the effort- They use income and credit to
the fulleat limit; they arc always potentially bankrupt, if not
actuaUy so, are never out of debt, and do not aim to be.
Tbey look upon debt as a social and (egil inconvenience,
r^th^ :haii u an ethical obligation, and they pay only in&lft*
tfflf creditors, when ddvcn lo it. Thcic tight lo live as they wish
I
I
I
I906,] LfF£ AND MONEY, Gof
appears stronger ihao creditors' right to juBticc- They neglect
weak crediiots, such as j^rocer, dairyman, scfvnnt, or dress-
maker, while they mure willingly pay caterer, llorTsI, and t'on-
feciioner. In euch cases, ftctuai income ie reguUtly insuffi-
cient and resort is had to every known credit -device, to delay,
to pari payment of bills, in order to avoid trouble and main-
tftin so-called rcspeciability. While one is in debt, without a
horror of debt, snd makes no panrcuLar effort to pay what
one owes, livings at the same (Jme, in apparrnt luxury or com-
fort, one docs not break with so-called respectable people.
This course ot life seems to dull the moral sense, violate moral
law, and cause serious harm 1o aobte instincts. But the pfo-
ces* is ended there.
(f) There are those, linaJly, who, in attempting to maintain
ft standard beyond their means, yield to the distressing pres-
sure, refuse to reduce their manner of life, and resort to cheat-
ini;, stealing, embeciling, gambling, betrayal of trust, and de-
ception, in order to procure needed money. By a strange fal-
lacy of self*cKCepdon, they think that They may escape, that
tuck is with them, that they will easily and tjuickiy restore
stolen funds. At limes hu&hands, in a desire to allow their
families every pleasure, hide their true condition, encourage
expenditures which would be quiclrly given up tf conditions
wore known. Misery and ruin that have come to men, shame,
temptation, and degradation that have come to thousands of
young girls, owe their origin to the foolish though natural
efTort to maintain a standard in food, clothing, and pleasure
irhich their means did not warrant, and which were possible
only by sacrifice of honesty, decency, and act f respect.
The work of this instinct in the race Is of fat-rcaching
effect Natutc is a class builder, fihe is not democratic. Her
limited instinct for equality works horiKonlally on diETerent
planes, but not perpendicularly among the planes. Equaliiy in
cta<ses arid not equality of ciasfip-a is her apparent law. She
has implanted likewise Ihe passion lor distinction, individuflli-
xation in us, which leads all ol us to hope that, in some way,
\vo may &iand forward in the class, marked by form, or
«chievenien1, or Rymbol, thai liflt us above our fcllowjt. When
we belonif to a class, we must maintain its standard, CUva
urivea to reproduce the external forms of the class next above (
the weaker in any class tend lo attain to the standard of the
fios
LiS£ ANI} MONEY^
\y^-.
atrongcfit in the class. If wc might know the whole Lruih
about ourselveSt we might discover that w« look upon equality
as a iransitiortal stage on the journey toward a favorable in-
equality, lor which our love of diEtJnction leads u« to cnvc
much as the iiiomeniary pobe in balance Qf the teeter<plank
ol the chililrtn'v ^ame i& a stage in the rise of one who was
dowD.
Thi& whole cour&e oF conduct bears diiecily and consianily
on income, for through income we aie enabieti to procure what
we deEfre. The fixing of this standard of life takes ua f^r away
Irom Eonsidcration of our real essential need of food, dnnk,
recreation, and sheher, and places a buiden on income which
the latter canjf at all, bear only with dlfS^culty. Our dtfhctiliy
ii increased by the accessories which we impose on oumlves.
Thii9, if wc arc livmg beyond our means, if wc arc in debt, or
if we have reached secret dishonesty in our moral drgcnerattoa,
we impose a certain dignity upon ourselves. Wc will not go
to a free ward in a hospital, and accept the services of an at-
toniling physician, Wc secure a private room and our own
physician, though without means cr intention possibly to pay
tor either. Some important event in ]ife approaches— we must
have money to make the show demanded by our siaAdard,
whether or not debts are paid. The spectacle was seen in a
western city, some lime ago, of the bride at a "smart wed-
ding." who wa3 served on her weddjn^ day with notice of »ui1
to coliect money which she owed for a gown worn a year pro*
viou^ly at a Governor's New Year's reception.
Thi^ disregard of the ethical question involved in extrava*
gance and debt, is CaciUtated by the tacit agreement among us
not to discuss our living expenses with one another- Many
ttte frank, but they ate the sternly honest — those who strive
and Rim to rise take pB.ri in the " conspiracy of silence/' Wo I
spend to attract the public, but one may not a^k what we pay
for thing^^ Wo do not a&k our host how much he owes for
his furniture, or his silver, or his wines. We do not ask if be
buys at bargain counters or on the JnMalmcnt plan. The host
may tell us, but wc may not ask. Wc are silent about the
one thing which occupies ambition^ absorbs thought, and ett-
ablcG us to maintain form. In our dress, homes, food, wc main-
tain equality with our class; but our income^ wherein we are
uaetlual— is not mentioned, because therein we arc unequaL
k
l9o6-] UFB ASD MO^'SY^
The business world, which profits so Urgcly from thia dvalry,
has been inerciful in inventing venccra, imitations, and machine-
tade goods, so Elul, ^lawevcr unequal (he gemjin« and the
ilation nay be in quality and price, they approach equality
fn show and scrvJcG, and thus unequal incomes arc apparently
ertualized. Few are expert judges; the ^upermteiKlent'^ Moljd
mahogany looks little better ihan the clerk's stained birch. But
no sooner has the poor man caught up with the rich man in
show, than the latter establishes a new standard. Handwork
is novtf select and expensive— machine work is cheap and com-
xnoD. When imitations and cheap grades enable the lower to
imitate the higher, these take refuge in someihing new — trans-
fur/nin)f life into a veritable merry-go- around.
Another point of view in the employment of income is
fharcd by those who abandon thcm&clvcs to some form of sdl-
iodtil^nce, to a passion or babit to which all ehe is made
subaervlent- Appetite, desire is uppermost. It U not a par-
ticular view of money, not an ambition to maintain a social
standing- ll is an individual force, a sensual nr social desire,
which has mastery. Passion for drink, gambling, for personal
ornamentation and vulg^ar display, desire for unusual distinc-
Tion, are of this kind. When such desire is strong and well-
cstablisiied in its overtnasrcring sway, nothing can withstand it,
Self-teapcci, honesty, decency, vinuc, loyally — everything will
b* sacrificed. The young man who pawned a $35 coat for
%%^ in order to buy a pair of athlete's shoes; another who
pEaces In pawn his Christmas presents, and pays 40 percent on
his loan in order to have money to bet on races in a distant
city; the brutal drunkard, the overdressed and over-arnanicnted
daughter of shame and sin, are ^ad and wretched illustrations
of the havoc which is wrought in this way.
The thoughtful reader, who Ik interested in working out
line ol observations, will easily supply other points of view
abundant illustrations of those suggested. One will scarcely
in. Id doing so, to win new self-knowiedge and belter under-
sinndln|£ of the social lorce^ which are of viiHl imporiaiicc in
the lifc'conduct of the individual. The bearing of the situation
herein outlined, for and against Socialism, will be studied In a
■nbtffquvnl article,
VOL. ucKiii.— 39
STUDIES 0?J FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE.
in,
N SQ far a.s his practical influence h concerned,
NtelEsclie Ihe poet hft£ been merged and lorgot-
tcn in Nicczficbe the anti-mQraliBt; or, if rcmcm*
bered, has been so chjcjly as contributing elo*
qucnce and charm to ihe moiilistic wriling^T
In the last article my readers may have seen some reatoc*
to question the truth of this estimate. Nietzsche as poet and
^riUt WAS usually at hU best ; Nietzsche as anli-moralisl, or
imnioTfllist^ was Bomecin>es at hi? best, but ollen at his very
worst — and Nietzsche at his worst was soaclhing very bad in*
dectt, and more hatmfu] just by reason of hi$ violence and
shallowness. It is the extreme assertion of pernicious maxims,
rather than a moie scientific treatmrnt, that works injury.
Tlte exaggeration which has descended as low as a lie^ has its
own shorl and ilf-omcned reward; it engenders vulgar belief.
The dangers, however, of many of Nict7»fhe'5 anti^moral
aphorisms is actually non-cxiateni, for those who arc inspired
by the more modern and apirJtual philosophy, in contradis-
Cmction to the outworn oiaEertalJstic and mechanical theories.
In spite of his very itecn-»ightcd criticism of the English utih-
tariaik philosophers, Nietzsche's method was n^C so enUrely
different Irom theirs.
"These English psychologtsifl," he says, "what do they
realty want? Whether wilfully or not, we find them always
at the same work, dragging the 'partie honleuse' of our in-
ner world Into the foreground, and finding the CAufiCp motive,
and deciding factors of our development ju«t in thai wherein
the intelieciuaL pride of man would least wish to find it."*
And yet a few pages Eater we tind him seeking the true
«ensc of the word "good" in its earliest And barbaric con-
ception; and he tells us, with satisUciion, that "Achuldj"
F * tmr CeHwkiit 4t.r AUrat, 1. Far, t.
Studies oa' FJtrEDRrcH NiKTrscHS^
" debti" meant, first simply "schukden/' to owe, in the ^cnst
of mtierial or pecuniary oblEgation.* Is not thiE also io m^kc
the lowest in&tjnct the parent of tho highest; to explain the
noblest devcFopmcnt of which man U capable by iis meanest
commencement ?
But "nous avons chang^ tout cela." It is no longer re-
garded as the best scLentific, Any more than the best philo-
aophical, method to explain the plant or the animal by the
seed; the cultured and civlU/cd state by the barbarous tribe;
the richest dcvclopmenls of reason and conscience by savage
and rudimentary instincts.
Equally (alee would it be to take no accoufit of these ear-
lier stages. But our method has been widened and reversed.
It has dawned on us thai the greater ia more lihely to Include
the lesser than vice-versa, and that in the highest are to be
foughl the reason iind explanation of the lowest. Nietiscbe
erilicJKCS the notion of "abBichI," of purpose and intention,
a« a fallacy tn our moral coostderation.
*' In the HJT intentional element of our actiori," he tu.ysj "1%
h£ decisive worth : its purpose, all thai ia sern, known, and
confciouc therein, is of the surface and skin only."!
In so far as he denies to the individual alone a full knowl-
edge of end and intention, and holds that^ in every action oi
man, there is something more than one, pctsonally, can gauge
i,t.A comprehend, he goes in no w^y counter to a spiritual
philosophy, which can fully recognise the force and value of
■pontanetly. But he does also lend to exclude from an action
the end and purpose which are involved in its very essence.
And thereby approximates to the mechanical ihcoiy. Those
who have imbibed the later and more comprehensive notions
will, thereforcH be unhurt by that part of his philosophy which
it based on theso narrower and outworn conceptions. We look
now for the reason of the tint In the last, for the rea^n of
the worst in the bcfil-
I.
In the title of one of his later, but not latest, works^ Niets-
icKe expresses the aim and outcome of his moral studica.
They resulted En a stale q\ gay or joyjul or ha/f/iy knowledge*
FrUkiieM^ Wisitnt^haft ; that state to which he so often a1-
' Mtm. t,.4,bhi1 IE„ a» r /»/«(( v» Gvt und &n.\t. V«--^
«l>
STVD/BS ox PXiEDRlCN NiETZSCNE.
iVA.,
fudei, directly or mdlrcctly, when he describes ihc Ughl^hcaM-
tdiMM of ihe intellectual " fre?- lance/' who not crtly walk*
bvv posltirtly d^uiccs on the heights and on the edges of the
pf«dp4ec«. ThU itAie i>f "think and do Aa you like" he consid'
«r> attainable^ like its religious counterpart, only through much
t9ton and tufTering and endurance. Old lies tnuEt be cut, old
afTactioni quenched, old habite broken, in that whok-hcarud
•ervice ol truth, which ia to Jind iu reward in its own exer-
*i»e, in the krcn delights of the intclleclua] chase, in that free-
dom and detachment of the mind which botmds along in pur-
auit of one sole object, invulnerable by the very fact of ita
nakednts*, A thou^nd years earlier and Nietzsche would have
b»cn a ChrlRilftii anchorite, devoted to solitary conietnplatioD
in the African desert.
Most of us have had at least some slight exp^^ellce of
thesQ periods of intellectual freedom and cx.altfttion, when the
whole force of our nature is suranjed up in the single joy of
knowledge and thought, when the emotions arc atill and the
heart has no ache.
Oh 1 the wild joys of livingi the leaping from rock up lo rock,
Ths strong rending of boughs from the hr-tree, the cool stiver
shock
OJ the iilunga in a poi>r$ living water, the hunt of ihe bear.
And the Bultrincss showing the lion is couched in his lair.*
To return to the diatmsaion of our last article, this is a
phase m which Dionysos has been pressed into the service of
Apollo; the hidden forces of emotion and feeling, of the mys-
teriouB underworld ai our nature, are, for a moment, relnforc-
La< the pjrely intellectud faculties, so that we seetn to need
nothing beyond the delight of thought.
But Nietzsche's earlier studies should have warned blm that
this was no pcnnment condition; that the " periphery of knowl-
edge," as he himself put it, would soon be struck, and the mind
awakened from its joyful dream. This happened in his own
case, though not to th^ cxrenl which might have been ex*
pected- What we would call the purely scietitific stage of //«-
maH,t09 Httm^H sutTcred amendment and modificatEon later on;
and *' Wir Gelchrtcn," " We Savants " of Beyofid Good amd Evil
receive some of the castigatton which they had equally well de-
■"SnwJ-" Rot4n nnwBiPf.
ojv Fried RICH Nietz&cme,
terved, bul escaped^ in Human, fef //uvtan. Y<t, on Ihe whole,
there ij no ^oubt rZiat Nictrsche endcisvorcd, nn tncJeavor *Uith
WAS parity auccessfuS, to lead the latter part of his life in A
kind of mental abstraction, reducing every tether faculty to the
service o( his intellect.
As uBuaK Nietzsche wis prepared to tnake all the sacrifices
that should be demanded in thi^ whole-hearled pursuit of liuth.
He even fell mto the frequEnt delusion which leads us to sup-
pose that a course of action may be d«!sirable> rot only jn sptif
of the sacrifice it dcmandfi, but actually by rtanfn of JL He
sprang forward lo meet any new and subversive revelation wilh
the enthusiasm of martyr or fanatic who fa<es the kindled pile.
He accepted, without the riHccssary ^ptrituat reaction, the crush-
ing lesson of Lminensily, and came at last to wcll-nigh rejoice
In the crude denial of old -established vatvieg. What he rtlost
amc« rely regarded as pure love of truth, degenerated into reck-
lessness, and he squandered hard earned convictions, as a savage
nation scatters works of art which It cannot understand. His
''will to be strong" was corrupted to a '*wtll to be rougb,"
and he developed an increasing ta&tc for violent assertions and
denijils, which grew to the dimensions ol a manca.
t^
T^Sri^RCUL AND SLAVISH MORALITY.
I One of the first points to be noted in Niet/sche'a anH-
m^ralism is it* undisguised advocacy of egoism and self-asser-
tion. In Human, /w Jfttmtra we could gather countless aphor-
LsmS) witty perhaps, but not very original, in which the old
difficulty is raised, the old contradictions are exposed, which
Inhere In the very notion of a wholly unselfish action, Th«
difficulty IS, indeed, unanswerable from a certain standpoint.
When the love of sell Mnd the love of the neighbor are con-
ceived ai two wholly separate affections, it is weLt-nigh itn-
1 poMible to find n solid ground for the second. How &re we,
L for eitample, lo Answer this argument of Nietxftche? The un*
^BeJlish man* he >ayf, mmt suppose:
^B "That the other i^ selfish cnoueh to continually ^jtcepl hji
P'^^lHiriiice and his life; so that loving and self-aaciilicing men
have an interest in Ihe preservation of other* who are tell^ih
and incapable ct sacrifice: An<l thus the highlit morality, in
L'
order lo cxltE, must produce immorality, tbiu leading to Ju
own oniincllon,""
In oilier places lie develops thi^ objection with Mill more
per»UMJvcncu And power* basing hh argument, not only on the
UlUcy of Altruism, but &ho on its Actual usdessncss, as a rounds
about »nd inertectnal way of procuring the same good which
fgoi^m attains far mote fully and dir<etly. In a parage on
'* Noblenea*/* he «rH«»:
*'What makes a man noble? Not sacrifice, for (he moat
exctctnc tcajnalist is capable ol sacrifice, Not the fdlowicg d
a paaskw; for some putioiu are shameful Ac^r /At strvtm^ v/
HMttt ttitk^nt MMj st//'srrAJmg, for psthtt^i it t& jttst ikf sel/~
Mtkivf </ tk4 90^Irri tekifA M^^ forth tkt grratat riiMlti.
No; but BOait<biag ia paa»ioa wbJch is special though not con-
•eiottt; A ditcernment wfaidi is rare and aitigular and akin to
fnaijr [ ft atDM of hpcat in things which for others, are cold ; a
ptrc«ptt<Mi of value* foe which no c^EimaEc has been estabtished ;
% tacnftciBf Oil atiarv which are dedicated to an unknown God ;
ft C«HifftKe tbai cUins no homage; a stlf-su^icitncy whiek is
Thlt pUMVf^ wiH feftiichl us of NietiAche's concepijon of
iha hisbe*t an, which U inspired, not by want, by longing, by
ittetitv, Vut by falaea*. eveiAow. and strength; nor would it he
Uii tv vatlaUM hi* philoaopby of egoitm without bearing this
K^taNhUrtiltc in mXttd. rutting his argument at the bcsr, here
|» wbtai it wwUd bi;
yg^ Titat «lto«8 dMo: power and atrengih are the highest
#lllWg»rti^> ^ ^^^ ^' nuB: life Itself i9. at core, the will to
h$ mIs^*T ^"^ atrosg. (And, Jet na observe, in piAfing, that
llkbl tt#^>*V f*> ■'t*' ^^'* '^^^ *^ ^^^y objectionable a& a funda-
li.lRttft tMCtptiv^- NietaKhe did not mean by ^tcength that
ttUok ll Mvrely physical, tnd. in the choice of ulttniates. it
#««14 tvfw to uifttter littk which vc select; life may be ulled
ft Ivi^lkA WtU ft* It maybe called many other things, provided
ftaty vwff MM te comprtfacnsive encugh to constitute a fingi
^mxk^^i then, with this theory, we find some men, the«e
ti^ |h« aluuUlt. «ho would take from the strong and give to
\^% Wt^h ^ ikey t«#ch that the ego must be sacrj^ced in the
VftftM lH lh« «lltftr> Thua tbe healthy are given up to ihe str^
■$.
rgofi,] STVD/^S 0/^ FffrF-DRlCH NiETZSCffE. 6\$
vice of th« aick ; the enlightened are worn out in the instruc-
tion i>r the Ignorant, the g^rcat piorecrs and initiators of new
life are checked by the tattering progress of the blind and
haft.
Thifi ia to institute in humaitity a process directly contrary
that of nature, Slowly but irrcsistibSy she has Ti'sen from
step to ijtep, from lower to higher type in her unending pro>
gress, not by compensAiing the weak, but by rewarding the
strong.
What is the result of the opposite system in the evolution
of nriMnkind ? Simply that sickness, foolishness, impotence, arc
raised to the thrones which should be occupied by health,
koowiedgFj and wiU, Invaiidism, hyper-HenBitivciifAs, dilettant-
ism have become, most often, not the shame but the glory of
our race- We blush, not for our weakness, but for our strength.
we sample our refiucment by the number and the triviality of
our pams. We measure our int^ucnce by the amount of sym-
pathy we can evoke; we estimate our impoiiance by the quan-
tity of help and service which wc need. So that the strong
»e expended, not even in strcngtbentng the weak, but in
mimstering to and gloryifying their weakne^. Behold the
fruEts of altruism I
And now let ub turn to egoism, endeavoring to find the
best we can in Nietxschc's theory.
L Given a solidarity of mankind, what enriches the one i*n'
riches alt; the strength of the one is the strength of all.
Why then go thts very roundabout way of ministering to th«
progress of mankind? Let the strong man grow stronger, un-
til his strength burst the bounds oi his individuality and flow
over on to the world at large. Let him not reduce his owa
personality by continual division and nubdivision of his strength
amongvt Ihoso who hate none. The vice of this method it
that there is then no overflow; nobody is too strong for his
own nced&, and Ihu^ nobody is strung enough tu eniich the
rest' Wq want, not just enough, but supew-nbundance. It is
the men of powerful, independent, seJf-sullicing nature who
brt«k down the barriers of human Itmiutions 4nd raise man-
ind to a higher plane of development.
Here we strike on NietEsche's two categories of etfalce;
Kerrenmoral and Sklavenmoral^ the morality of the master
nd the morality i»f the aUve, The J^rst is independent, self-
ei6 Studjes on FRi£DsicH Nietzsche. [FeL,
sufficing; it is not subject to the rule of estabtiGhed valunFv
but iUelf creates values. It is far above the moTaEify of use-
fuJae^s, for U deaU directJy wirh ends wid not with tneanx-
The corruption of thb kind of tnoral or iatellectuaJ ariftocr^cy
is, not when il claims and extendi its rjghls^ but when it be-
gina to lay them down. And this he juBtitics by the further
doctrine chat this spiritud ^Uie Is the justification of the whole;
the best result of the past, the highest pledge of its future.
"The esaencc of a good and sound aristocracy is chat it
regards itself not as a /an^/iart of the whole, but as its mtan-
ing and highest juatificatEoni," *
A democrat would still have many and grave cbjections to
raise, for, in his desire for the good of all cianlcLnd* Nietischc
aims at a survival of the fittest and not at a general elevation
of the masses. The aristocracy, mental, morat^ or pulitical,
does tn fact, according to him, exist for icsflf and for the
^kttU ; not, as the political or phLlosophJcal democrat would
say, for the pt^file and for the wkole. The cardinal virtue of
the Herrenmoral (fl, according to Nictischc (and here wc feel
a blow is aimed at Schopenhauer's ethics of pity)» reverence^
an appreciation of nil that ia lofty, noble, distinguished. As
pity is the virtue of the ethics of " vcrncinung/' '"deniai/" so
reverence is that of the asserting and affirming attitude- Tlie
one Eooks down, ttie other looks up. The noble can ailord to
be reverent because they believe iti themaelve*.
Reverence is a virtue cjuite oppo£ed lo the sentiments
of SklavenmoraL ; for the serf in mind and feeling is tnslinc*
lively hostile to what la greater than himself. The lords ot
the moral world are ready to give reverence where it ia due*
and expect, in their turn, to receive it. Pity, on the other
hand, is detestable, whether to give or to receive; it blesses
neither him who gives oor him who takes, For Nietrscho be-
Ileved in suffering lor the great even more than for the (msU;
and lo receive pity was, in his eyes, to be robbed of the
(rutts of our pain, which should issue in increased ittength and
influence, not in the need ol foreign help and sympathy*
All this doctrine is, of courst, in close connection with
Nietzsche's startling and paradoxical theory in regard to cru-
elty. In one place he tirmly deprecates the notion of cruelty
as consisting only in the joy of seeing other) suffer — there i&
1
I
STCDIES on FJSIEDfirCir f^TETZSCfiE.
joy 4lsi> over one's own pain.* And if wc would a&k how he
reconciled hia apprcciaiion for this kind of self-cructty with
hU detcsution o/ ChrbtJan self sacrilsce, the answer wc could
drmw from hb general works would be that, where he, truly
or falsalyt thought sufTenng wa.ft accepted 10 the sense of a
deolal of life, his phjtoaophy rejected it; bul when h was A
fttA^e of self-devplopment, he embraced [t.
Space will not allow of a further consideration of thi«
point; his doctTtne la interwoven with more cr less of fallacy,
And yet it would be quite unjust to take his extrcmp asser-
tions on the subject of cruelty in a bare and literai sense un»
<}ualiliDd by the rest of bis teaching.
Thus the egoism of the Herrenmoral waa vigorous and
feH-aaaer(ive, in opposition to tbc egoism of the Sklavcn*
moral, which is parasitic and dependents Nietxacbe'i egoi^i
would be a fully equipped, nchty endowed being, full of his
own strength and light; shedding it lorth on others Througb
sheer super-abundance.
li we may and must make our stand against all in the
philosophy of NietKS^be which would spell sheer brutality, a
biutaiity as contrary to his own nature as to oura, wc niuit
not, for this, attempt to hide the very real eviU which he
combated. There are force and logic in hi» argument for ego-
iim and set F- assertion when we take them as opposed to that
Iciod of altruism which is merely transpUnlcd egoism; which
la not founded on an ultimate unity, and which expresses It-
self in the witty formula of Mr. Mallock; ''I am 30 glad that
you are glad that I am glad."
Nieiasche objected to the impoverishment of one man in
order to the enrichment of another And turely there is jus-
tice in bis objection, until we come to recognise that th«
higher kind of gift does not impoverish (he giver,
"Ecco ehi cresceri li noatri amori/' Behold he who shall
inlenaify our ]ove."
In the goods of the spirit, one more to share is onr mi^re
to increase the general feast. The strong man {[rows not
weaker, but stronger, when he lends of his strength to the fee*
h\v. And one other thin>: need^ to be specially noticed In our
own day. It is a fact that worka of pity tend lometimea to
feeding and not to curing the disease. Nletischc says:
6U
Studies oa FRiEDRiof Nietzsche.
[F<b..
"I b&ve no doubl that the GufTerlng nighl oif one cifiliud
bj'Vlcrkal woman comprises more pain than that of all the
tn3m«lfl ibftC have b^en sacrificed to science."* And he meani
thereby Ji compliosent lo the «oimaU and not to the "o&e
fcy«1encA] woman,"
And when we see certain natures, not feminine only, th*t
fiCeadily OevitaJlzc all those around them, and gam tbemselvo
nothing thereby but the strength to scream a little iQuttcr, «;e
feel thai Nktiacbe had & real grievance in view. We cinnot
■hATe his uitqualiAcd admlratton for Napoleon » but there arc
lorces of disease and parasitism even more dectdly thjic those
of the pirare and brigand. He wanted to rouse the creative
power of the iuflerer, not merely to soothe an<i tran<]uilize-
" In man," he says, "creator and created are united^ t%
man il tbc material, the fra^cnt, the vurplua. the day, clic
mud, the ioollshness. ihc chaos; but in mm also ia the cre4-
lor, Ihc sculptor, the wieider of th« hammer, the beUoycr oJ
diviaity, the -levenih day. , . . And tjur pity . . , de-
fends itsctf against your pity aa against all that aoficna and
enervates/' f
Thia la surely to call forth the strength that is hidden
within weakness* while too often the result of pity is that the
greater grows less, while the lesser does not grow more.
Profe^DT Euckcn says oE the teaching of Nietsscht on thete
points: "He would not have treated morality in so iifi»ympa-
thctic a manner had he not reg^ardcd it only from one poiet
of view, as mere working for other men, subordination to arti-
^clal rules, and a lowering and subjection of self which Zed to
a diminution of vital energy. But such is merely the surface
BEid not the heart of morality, it is not the morality of great
AOuU." t
Ilf.
SIX AND FATK.
There are two curiously opposed schemes in the philosophy
of Nietzsche, vix,t his strong insistence on the rights of the
Individual and his equally outspoken belief in fate^ His theory
of masterful morality, of naked egoism, was inspired by the
iirEt of these fundamental beliefs; \\\s denial of responsibility,
* Gmtiliaititfr U*nii- IT. Pu, 7. t JMiHO tm Gvi kii4 SSit. Fu. 915.
1906.]
Studies oh FatEDRtcH Ntetzsche.
6tg
f^ulli, and sin* was mspired by the fiecond* But the WilU 4irr
Ma^kf^ the wiil to be strongj reniained alwayj the pTcdomi-
nanc i^ote ; qLtaJi/ying even hU general docuine of £iii]e££ii«£5.
Although, according ta him, we may ohen tbmk ouis«Ivca
ffee. responsible ageoCA, wht^n we are, in faci. laerc tools of
necessity, yet this very n<ceaeUy is, in some way, the field <rf
our own action. He feels it Ihough h< does not clearly see it,
that there is s spring of spiritual iritiative independent of
natural Uw&; and, though be denies the Christian doctrin«
of am, he by no means eliminales evcrylhirg in the way of
«lf -determination. The fighting instinct was ever strong.
Id Hitman^ loo Human, in Zhi WantUnr atrti His Skini^w,
and in all his tater works, we have recurring intimations of
his disbelief in any positive persona) guilt- In the lir^t plaGe*
as we have seen, be believed that the highest natures ereite
thdr own precedents, and arc, coniequentlj'H incapable of tin-
In Ihe second ptac«, he bcHeved that the whole systen) of ob-
jective moraUty was as illusive as the Pcolemaic system of
utrononiy ; we cannot distinguish when we move ourselves,
and when it is other objects that are moving.
Now personal responsibility is a iundameniai arcick of our
<feedt and objective morality is as cssenilal lo a generally im-
perfcci world as the science of medicine or hygiene. It i« not
(be highest in itself, but it is the highest for ordinary pur-
poses, and must only be transcended by nobler and loftier ef-
forts, not transgressed by actions which are simply eaiiier and
more instructive,
And yet, is ii not blinking reality to deny tbat Nieluche
represents a type which is to be found vrjthin, a£ well as with-
out Christianity ? Many speak as though to lack, naturally, the
sense of sinfulness, were a mark of moral depravity, but, tf w^
enter into the inner experiences of lomc oi the purest and loftiest
souls, we shall find that nothing is more of gtace and less of
nature than a feeHng of personal guilt, even in regard to those
of their actions which appear blameworthy^ Furthermore^ this
dithculty increases rather than it lessens with advancing life.
We do not, the worst nor the best cf us, by any means tind
Cbat a growing experience deepens our sense of personal guill
and responsibility to the extent thai it dtrpcns our ^ensB of
helplessncis and misery; il increases our feeling of utter hu*
cniliation and feebleness, rather than remorse for wilful wrons-
630
SrtfDl^ Q/\>' FKtEDKICH NlETZSCHE.
doing. To >in Eccm£ almost beyond ub, we b&rcty crettit cur
raJMiRble pcrsonn^jty wiih such n power-
Are lomc of :he psalma. indeed, so far from ihis point of
vi#w ^ Are Ihey not the cry of abasement sliil more than a
l^mcnl for lin ? I state this as a problem, not as a pbilo^o-
|»hy. Jt Si a problem ihac will, most llhely, be solved only
by a giomn^ and fuller coinprch<;nfion ol the relations of dc*
termlfllfim and Iree ivij]. Modern psychology is supplying (acta
and theories which muit, eventtiaMy, becorne the spoils of
Cbtiitian philosophy. Free will mull ever remain d fact, as it
remained even in the anti-Christian philoscpby of Nietzsche,
llut a better under*tandmg of the mysterious laws of our being
willt aomo dfty. make our actA of contrition, not less religious,
but more r«al than they Eometime^ are now.
Tor the rest. NtelEflche'a doctrine of sinlessress is not fio
wholly decadent ae his followers have made it^ A brilliant
modern writer has said that the one sure way lo get rid of
tomptatlon '\% to yield to it. and this 15 about the pith of po^t-
Niet»cheaii ancUmoralism. But in view of Nietzsche himself, the
"gutea Gfl*J»»cn/* "clear conscience," was to be won in •
very much hiirdcr way ihan this. We are not, according to
him, to escape the effort of walking on a rCdge simply by roll-
lag to the bottom. Thia is decadent sintesEness ; one that \%
obtJ-ined by Uck of cueitionj by throwing down the reins, by
letting the Empulact master the will. Nietzsche's method was
one. not ol «elf- abandonment, but of strong self'pofse&Eion ; a
masierini;: nf one's own life and conduct.
He was deeply impressed by the relativity of our knowU
edge and philosophy. When he paradoxically taught that
truth waa in no way preferable to falsehood, he meainr> not a
plain as»eriion. which would spell utter madnefs, but the ne-
cesilty of certain forma of itluaion to daily life. Truth was to
be If&ted by tt£ tHfr<spring> which, lor him. meant its might-
giving capacity — not a wholly unworthy t«st. He bad the same
floepticism in regard to a sy^lrm of morality* as he tad in re<
gard 10 a system of philosophy^ once he doubled as to its be-
ing in process ai living generation — unless spontaneous, it was
QOt. to his mind, living. Laws too high for the moral level of
majihind were as injurious i/ca taws loo low. Out ethics must
be produced by ourselves *nd not ready made. There U to be
here no d|leiiantifm» but sheer hard work. Th« very sen»« of
I9O60
STUmES OJV FJtIEDItTCH NIETZSCHE.
631
innocence is lo be attained, not hy praciicai abandonment to
iadividual impuEseff, but by an abstraction from pergonal im-
prcisions, a fearlessness which bcrdcra on heroism.
CONCLUSION.
We have taker, in all this, Ihc best, and not the wdtsI, of
what Nictische has lo teach us. To some it may £ceni thai a
fOan, wha has been like supposed leader of so much That is ir^
reUgious an^ immoral in modem titerature, can hardly have
furnished anything thai waa reaTTy high and spiriiuaL Jtut we
can only recur to what we have often said— like too many
teachers, he has been taken ofi bis worst side^ His violent
paradoxical utterances against Christian morals have tiot tealJy
any sense at at] except when explained by the rest of his teach-
ing: and yet they have been t^iken as bare, lileraf assertions.
If "immoraljsts " bad attempted io be " immoral " according to
the full NieUschean phtlosophy, they would hare found it an
VKtreiiiely diEficult performance^ needing about as much effcrt
u raoratily itself, and issuing in not such a very different re-
sult They would have found that, [n place of accepting an
objecltve code of morality, they had to create one of their own,
more exacting and difficult, ju9t because adapted to the full
Capat^lity of their nature. We do not tieiieve that mankind at
large is called on to create such codes; but we cannot, never-
theless, deny that some may be endowed with such a mission-
In Nletnche's tyts every man who Is, in his own coul, master
and not slave, has this work to perform. In the difficulty of
the task was its safety, for the unworthy would never dare to
undertake it.
Nietzsche's greate&t mistake of all was not, perhaps, his
hilred of a Christianity which he misunderscocd, Hi^ mislake
wu in thinking that Christianity did not already contain most
of the truths at which he had arrived. He himself was " human,
too human " in his limited compTchcnsion of the great religion
of mankind, and his followers were *' human, too human *' in
their superficiaE understanding and facile carrying out of bis
doctrinv.
NNE had lonkecJ to be home by wirf-July, It
had not occurred to her that »be would make new
friends* that her friendship woulii be claimed by
charming, wetl-brrd people, quiel and cultivated
and rcftncd. the anihh«bi£ of the bustling A(n«rl*
call as wc know him.
She wn? drawn to Boston from Washington. She W9 co-
tcrtaincd delightfully by women"* ciubs and soeieties as well •*
privitely- Nothing could exceed the leiodneaB, the warmth, tbe
delicacy of the hos^Ltslity &hc received. Shr diM^ovcred ihttt
the best Americans are the qurel, home-keeping one), ftciid »)ie
discovered also that their qu&IUies were widely different; the
daughter of the Pilgrim Fathers side by side with the exotic
Atnerican girl, whose frankness and freedom of ipccch were so
delightFully at variance with the ejiquitUe delicacy of herJool:<.
She was carried tiow one circle to another, would have
becTi earned from one city to another if she had conseoted.
" I will come back one day/' she satd, " when I have a year
or two to give to my AiaeTlcaii friecd^. Less than chat would
not suffice."
Instead of spending August at home, she tpeni it in the
Saa Gabriel Valfcy- Oac exquisite old lady, who wa« de-
scended from Quakers, and yet wore the Quaker garb, but foi
atl that wa3 one of the exclusive ladies of an exclusive society.
would not have her leave America without seeing California-
She could refuse the pink-cheeked^ violet'eyed old lady nolb-
JDg^in lact ihv had an odd sense of being flattered by Hrt.
Margaret Pcabody Faylc'f preference for her — and so Ai^oct
found her In Lo£ Angeles.
Sh(^ sometrme*i had a conscience-stricken memory of her
pfom'tsc to take Mary Hyland to the 3ca or the moufitaini.
I
1906.]
ffKR Ladyship.
fia^
And she wafi not eadcr in her mind because she knew that
Mary would never have a reproachful thought of her na mat-
ter what ihe did,
"Dunlaverock v^as to join the party in CalifornU, coming
by way of the Exhibition, He was to take charge of Anne
and Ml9s 'Stasia on the return journey. That, at leftst, made
BOmelhiTig of an excuse to Lady Anne's mind for breaking her
promise to Mary, The thing furthest from her thoughts would
have been that she shoulci have lost another whole summer
from Mount Shandon,
Mrs. Payle had depJored the fact that they must see Califor*
nia in August and not in Spring, The fields of flowersp the
groves of blossom would in August have given place to sun-
baked stretches of thiraty land and pale corn-JieldSt but there
would be oranges oa the boughs, there would be briltinnt
flowerKf there would be flights of humming birds like dowers
Dome alive, there would be the vintage. It would slill be—
California.
Lady Anne had had tine to become jiccustomed to the
southern warmth and generosity of the CaHfornian women.
The dull gray adobe houses in their orange groves had grown
familiar td her eyes,
San Gabriel shs found a valley of content. The place was
so ejtquiEitc^ the people so gracious and kind, that her etiergy
for the ^rst time was lulled asleep, She forgot to weary for
Haunt Shandon and what was going on there. She knew that
very soon now she must rise up and leave this enchanted val-
Uy of angels, but it was not a place to hurry away from. It
bad laid spells on her heart and her imagination.
Ii wus the end of August when Duntaverock came. His
coming iecmcd to make Lady Anne feel willing to go home.
He had spent several days at (hs Exhibition and was very
fuH of tnaichinery and such things. He was only sorry his
own pstent had not been ready.
The spell of the valley was not for him. looking down
from the porch of the adobe house into the valtcy they saw
the padre making his way to his little church; they heard the
sleepy, cracked bell begin; they saw here and there a dark
Agure maleing iu way, without haste, to the benediction service.
"An indolent people," said Dunlaverock; "is it the Spanish
blood, or Ch« climate?"
NEK
'DVsrrrp.
Lftdy Anrtc looked at the raw-boned, cnergeiic face for th<i
fiMt time without afFecCiori'
"Like the Irl^h/' she said, with sudden sharpnc», "it may
he thai they have laid hold on the kingdom ihat ia oot of thta
world."
"Why, Anne," he aaidj with mild stiiprise, "how ofteD t
have heard you cotnbat that FhUacy, (hat to be for the Kiog-
dom of God is to be slack for thii world, I have heard you
vJot^uent upon \x."
'*So yon have," she said, with humorous acquiescMice, "so
you hftv«u Don't you know, Alastair, that there (• DOthing
a woman so dialikes as to have her own old opinions quoted
to her, especially when they confute new onee/'
He shoEilc hL8 hea^H in a pviZTleii way. There was some*
thing puxxling about Anne in these latter days. He had been ■
u^d to say of her that «he wa^ the one woman to wbom a
man could lallc as (hough she wtrc a man.
With Dunlavcrock's coming the spell of the valley was
broken^ It was as though one should wake one morning to
find the valley Invaded by a railway, to hear milk at work
and the rout and rattle cf machinery-
" I am going home," she said, on the fourth day after his
arrival, " I ought to have gone before. Vour Talley has made
me forget my promises, I ought to have been at borne a
month ago,"
" Dear me, and I thought you were so contented," MrSi
'Etyle sighed. "I thought we might have stayed during Sep-
tambcr. The valley is like a sleep^ Even Auburn wiU be
intolerably noisy after it." ■
*' Let u& wait for Randal/* £aid Duniaveroch. " 1 have '
promised myself a little holiday. He will be free to rclsra
the first week of October, Let us see the glories of the fall
We can all travel home together." ■
"You must go back to him," Lady Anne said, "Both oi^
you will be perfectly happy in the Machinery Hall of the R^-
hibition. We can gel home very comfortably by ourselves-"
But though she said it she knew that Dunlavercck, havinj
<orac out with the intention of escorting her home, would »oi
be (tirncd from hia purpoae although the sky should fall. Sc
she did not argue about it, ahhough ^he was sorry th^it k
tfhoufd not have his holiday in his own way. However,
I
1
k
I906.]
MEft Ladyship.
fiaS
had said that he ccmid do very well with 3 few weeks at
Kitkee, They couJd all be at Kilkee together She w^uJd
fetch Mary trom her Middlesex farmhouse, and ihey would
All be logclhcT for a few weeks. Scplember was the best
month of the /ear al Kilkee. They might stay on for ihc first
half of October- Perhaps Hugh Randal might join them thcie.
Lady Anne might come and go between Mount Shandon and
Kilkee. That was one oi the great ad\'aniag«5 of the place.
They made a divergence to the I^Khibition, sI&yiQg a week
there after thdr journey across the Coniinejii,
Lady Anne protested that she did not at all regret the de-
lay, because Djnlaverock had been so generous about ^acri-
fidrg hia holiday to her plans. She spent much of the week
in the Exhibition buildings, Ia the piciuie eallcries and the
concert halL She had not had time for the arts during her
other visit. Now she looked at pictures and listened to cJassi*
cal muiic, whiic Dunlaverock and Hugh Randal were bu^y in
their mascuhne Faahion- Sometimes she spent an hour or two
in the Priest's House of the Irish Village, where the Mount
Shandon Industries were booming. Hugh Randal spent eicTy
evening with them at their hotel. Lady Anne had found her
room flawer. dressed oti her arrival as she had found it at !he
Waldorf, While she stayed the flowers greeted her dcliciously
vvery day. It was a delitate attention Duniaverock would
not have thought of; indeed, while he came and went in l^dy
Anne's luxurious sitling-room, he never noticed the presence
of the flowers-
At East they were on the oeean. In some three weekt'
tlmft Hugh Randal would be free to follow them. He was
going to establish an American depot for ihe Mount Shandcn
mdustrJc*. The success of the exhibit had warranted that.
His lifter waa willtng, even anxious to take charge. She bad
000 little girl with her already; the other two were In come
out to her. She had an idea, which she confided to Lady
Anoe, thai her mother would not be left behind,
"Twill be 01 well for Hugh," ahe taid, "the mother, for
all her »ofl ways, is terribly obstinate. Perhaps she'd never
take to Hugh's wife/'
Mary had written pretty constantly during the summer.
There were always good reportG of herself. She was *'doing
fiady-" There wat no end to Mrs, Weston'a goodness to h«r.
TOLp, txxxn-"4<3
626
Her LADYSHli^.
IFeb.,
After that she would break off lo talk of th« bu«ineM of the
South Atidlry Street chop. A sentence in one of her l&st Jet-
(eri had troubkd Lady Anne vaguely.
••If 1 was to be gone to-morrow." she wrote, "y'X*' L^dy-
thip could trust Katty and Minnie Lucas, I've dene my bciit
to make them tike myself towards your Ladyghlp, Surt it
wam*t hard, for they've seen you and spoken to you-"
"If I was to be gone to-morrow!"
Lady Anne had never been one for shadowy Fean, hut now
the phrase frightened her. Where would Mary be gone lo,
unless U WAS to be married and keep hcE Utile houAC? That
must be it of course- She must have been thinkine of her
marriage when sht wrole-
Ah, well, the house was near completion. There would be
nothing lo dcUy ihe marriage- She had had an idea ihai tbc
possession of that furniAhed hottte would make Hugh Kandal
awake from his apathy about the marriage. He knew nothing
as yet of iti exUtencc, It was to be a surpriie for hie hom^
coming. She had t^aid to him with a little emphaata. which
she could not keep out of her voice, chat once the tlxhibttioQ
was over, the way would be open for him to raarry. He b^d
answered, not noticing the emphadfi apparently — and It had
cost Lady Anne somclhing, for a deep color had come mio
her cheeks— thai it was time enough \ neither he nor Maiy
were tn a hurry lo put an end lo their engagcmenu
On the homeward voyage Lady Anne found, as might have
bevn eitpected, that her fellow- passengers took her cngage-
toenc to Dunlaverock for granted. Their supposed relatioathip
Cowfttda each other had even found it£ way into the column* of
a New York paper, and was iranamitied to the ship by Marconi*
gram haU-wjy over. It annoyed her disproportionately. No*
WIS her annoyance lessened by Diinlavetock's way of talcinfE it.
" We can't be together any more tn the old easy way," she
eaid to himn "That horrid paragraph will have found ita way
acro^ the ocean."
"Never mind," he said placidly. **It U only antc-d>tinf
things. In Hule more than a year your an&wer will be due. I
have not pressed you lor it, have L dear?'"
''Ho"; she answered somewhat ungra^ioualy, "you have
not pressed me.'*
She walked away from him to the other end of the dcct
I906.1
HEH LaDYSHI?.
They hod been leaning over the side undisturbed in a lovers'
BQlitude) although curious glances had been sent ihcir way.
He had not pressed hern it wafi true. He bad been placid,
kind, cousinly. bfothcHy, Was It thus a womari was won ? Once
h€ had shown signs of ardor If ihc ardor had continufd he
mighl hive won Aqdb by this time. In love, she ±ajd lo her-
self, as in atl vimj things, theie is no standing &lilK One goes
from height to height, or from depth to depth. DunlAverock's
attachment was a level plain, a coAiradiciion in terms to Jove
as ahe conceived Ie to be.
" Kc ifl too aurc/' she said to herself, with an odd bitier-
new. " He is too sure."
She found many things awaiting her attention al Mount
Shandan, bcsidt the wonderinl three-months'-olii baby which
Ida Mastey ditplayed with more than grandmotherly prlde.
"This tethers them to me," she said with exulration, *'They
could never leave izie now, unless they gave mc him. They
ire reftUy my children,"
Lady Anne found lo her annoyance thai ihe paragraph in
the New Vorlr paper had been cabled across as she had feared.
There w<re congratulations on every side. The relief in Colonel
Leonard'^ heart wu revealed in hi& manner of congratuUticn.
"1 am not so sure about it, Uncle Huyh/' Lady Anne said,
itung to impaticncff. When she had denitd ihe report people
had 10 plainly disbelieved the denial. "I may tell you as a
Hcret that 1 Imve promised Dnnlaverock his answer in a year's
time. I promincd it to him four years ago. He has not asked
OK to hutcn my decision,"
"But it is aa good as settled, my dear Anne/' the Colonel
said with tnvLncib!e cheerfulness. "A lady does not keep a
mAH dangling for Ave years and then refuse him."
The speech was something of a shock to Aune. She had
be«Q BO sur« of having kept her freedom, Was it possible
that she had really put a noose about herself that day lour
years ago? That would certainly explain Duulavcrock's caioi
security about her ultimate decision.
He had gone down to Kilkee immediately after their ar-
rival a; Mount Sharidou. Lady Anne's roomci and ruoms for
her party were taken at the same hotel. To be flure this, like
everything cUc «he had been doing for the pait four year*,
had been drawing the noose lighter. No wonder pecple hid
She hftd ikoughf !<> be above the opinioni nt her world,
bui ifae dlfcovered dow^ ILkc many ^ woman before her, th4t
■he «ai «ubj«ct to theiD.
She wah jflAd when she could at last leave the txvrigratuU-
ttoiu *nd the aasumptions behind her. Even Ida h^d given
htt no comforu Ida had taken it for granted with all the
rcftt that for her to marry DitnJaveroclc was the most sensible
and luiiable thing she could do She said to herself that ex-
cept by Aome aide-wind cf chance Mary would not have heard
the report- Mary never read newspapers and had no <^orre-
fpondtnce with home in the absence of her lover and Lady
Annc-
"I htve not been aMe to escape the congrattilatory cyea
of gentte or ^{mple at Motmt Shandon." Lady Anne satd to
herivlf ai ihe lat in the mail train with her face turned Lon*
donwardd. ^ It haH Rpoiti^d my ho me- coming. It ts a rest to
be poing to be with Maiy, Perhaps I shall tai«? one of Mrv
Woiton'fi clean, sunny rooms, and be with Mary for a little
while- To be with Mary witi be to ahut out the world,"
For the moment l^dy Anne was as much disilLuiioned with
her world at any nun who must flee away with the dove and
be at rent- Why muat ihey marry hef ^ Why coyld Dun-
lavcrock not Jet her be for a liltle while ? She was more un«
ready now than fhe had been lour years ago for love and
marriage. Hut at lca£t with Mary &he was going to have a
pause, a peace, a little ttuce of God^— 4 respite from the
world-^as though she were wiihm convent walls.
Chaft^r XXIL
TKS 3JCK GIRL.
It had been another hot summer and the year, whic^ had
Sfii^ked into September, was still smoking. There vt^re mists of
hfftt on the parched Middlesex fields. The Hrer bad sunk iato
jOt uoctean thread- The birds sang languidly, The plums asd
apples made horning bushes in the little orcbard. Heavy dews
at nigbt rotted the late rosea and made gray »eas ol the corn-
ields.
Lady Ann« hmd found ber w«y to the farn ufiaanoa^eed.
HKft LADYSHiP.
^
She had been al South Atidley Street, and had not seen Mary.
Mis Wal9h had p new air of auihority, as though she were
the principal person in command- Lady Afine noticed it and
it struck unpleasantly.
" Mi99 Hytand has not been in for more than a week, your
Ladyship," Miss Walsh informed her. "We went to se* her
on Saturday afternoon, Minnie and L She wae looking very
poorly, Shp had been in bed and was just op,"
She looked as if she could have lold more, but Lady Anne
was i En patient.
" I'll go and see for myself/* she said, looliing al her watch.
"Your Ladyship will look into things today?"
Lady Anne noiiced the disappoinlTnent in her voice and
floiry.
" Another A^y^* she said, "I shall be in London for a few
day£. 1 can see everything's going well. Miss HyUnd has ^
high opinion of you and Miss Lncas/*
A Little grntifcation came into the girl's roiind, ro»y face.
I "We are always only loo glad lo please your Ladyship/'
she said; and there was something oi Mary's worshipping air
in her uplifted eyes, Mary was not the only one to whom
Lady Anne meant an outlet into a glorious world of romance
from a narrow hfc-
" Shall I call a hansom for your Lady^fp or shail I send
Charles? There is a cab rack just round the corner/'
"Don't call, please; I like to pick one, I always prefer
10 see my horse's legs for myself/' Lady Anne answcrrd «b-
Itractcdly, turning back, however, to sftilte at the two rapt
facet behind the counter, while Charles, the smart boy in but-
tons, held open the door for her.
She was alarmed about Mary. For Mary not to have beea
in for a week was mdeed an ftlarmirrg thing- Sht frciivdover
it In the train, while the hansom carried her from the station
past the suburban roads, out into the quiet country, jingllog
its beils bvlweeri the ycllnwing hedgerows^
"It will be an early autumn this year/' she SAid to herself,
noticing that already the hedgerows grew thin
She pafli«d a tiny church on the way, one of the jinalleBt
atid oldest churches in HngUnd, the gravestones cluit«rinp lo
its low eavei, "as a hen gathcrelh her chickens/' She hid
noticed the little church with its churchyard before, and had
6jo
Her Ladysmif.
tFA,.
thought It a 8Mi;eet pUcc ; now the ahivercd iuddtnly in th«
warm ha», as though ihc churi^hyard might ytX hav« »oax«
perdonal BignJfiCAAce (or her who hitherto ha<1 bceo too much
concerned with kif« ^ncl iU inttrv&U to feci gte^tly conctfimd
with clrAlh,
Mr*. Wtfton herself opened the door lo her and drew her
wilhia the clean, ind parlor, with Us wix ffjiis under a gl^M
shade, its white antimacassarEt its shavings in the grate, its
mirror with the gilt frame swathed In yellaw gauxe.
'* I'm afiaid, your Ladyship," she said, and her voice faU
lered, "that youM find a great change in poor Miss Hyland.
Indeed, I'vo done my beat> There never was a sw^cler young
lady, nor one more easily pleated^ Tien't likely I wouJdn't
do everything ! could rather than let her slip our fingers, not
if I was ever so busy."
"Slip our Aiigers!" The phra», disentangled from the In-
volved sentenct. airuck Lady Anne'fr heart with cold ditmay,
"Slip our fingers!" Was it possible that something was going
to happen now which she would have no power to prevent /
Hitherto she bad felt her power cnoimous for the good or ill
of others. Happily she had used it for good. Hut, now. wh«t
was it that was coming near, creeping out ol the shadows^ be-
fore which she would be as powerless aB the meanest of niAn<
kind } Was it possible that her power bad found ira limitationa
and its end 7
"Has she seen a doctor?" she asked, with a catch of ber
breath,
*' No, your Ladyship; she said that your L4dy»liip*s doctor
had told her what was best to be done, and it was no use
troubling any one else. But, aa 1 said to Weston this morn*
ing. 'this very day I'll call in Dr Burleigh, whether she likes
it or not. A pretty thing it will be if her Ladyship comes
home,' I says, 'and tinda that her £he Ult in our charge hai
slipped our fingers?' Weston he quite agreed^ I was expect-
ing the doctor when your Ladyship drove up, Weston bad
business in the village and took a mer^age to him/' -
"Let rae lee her."
Lady Anne took n ^tcp or two towards the door, then
stopped and looked at Mrs. Weston's disturbed and tearful fac^.
*' [ am sure you did all yoti could/' she eaid gcnlly; "bot
ie/f mc, when did Miss Hyland begin to be ill? Her first hi*
IfER LADYSHiP^
\tt% were full of her hdp|iine£s h«re and ihe good it h^id done
her."
"She picked up wonderful at first. Then we had it very
faot in July- Wc (LDuldn't aecm to i^ct a brcalh of air nohow.
She Uiled Iben and she never seemed able to niBlce it up ttgain.
I'd ha' wrUten to your Ladyship, but she always said she was
writing herself> 1 &re the letters go, too,"
July! It was the time when Lady Anne had promised to
\9kt her to Che mountains or the sea, to life-givlng atr away
from the sweltering summer in the low- lying five r valley. She
had not kept her promise. To fae sute, she had noE trnowrk
how far the girl's preciotts health was involved, yet »he could
not forgive hersdf. She had never bioken a promise before
Was her first failure lo have such cruel results? Her heart
cried out against the retribution as too great, too cruel.
She went up the steep, narrow stairs, liTted the oTd-fosh-
ituaed latch of the bedroom door and went in. Maiy from her
pillows turned a gft^e on her in which delight and dismay
grew. Before the sudden accidental color caoie she had time
to see the lamentable change in the girl. Mary bad never had
much flesh or much strength to ioac. Now what flesh theie
was had fallen away from the bones. Even under the bed-
clothes one could discern the extreme thinness of the body.
She breathed painfully and her hands extended outside the
coverlet were mere masses of bones and veins covered with
the skin.
"What have you been doing to yourself?" Lady Anne
4sked with a groan. She could not keep her dismay, her grief,
her repentAnce from revealing themselves, "Oh, Mary, why
didn't you let me know? Why did you write those letters In
which you pretended to be well?"
'*Sure, I wouldn't be frightening you* nor bringing you
home before your lime. Many a time I've been hungry for a
tight of your face and Hugh's. It would have interfered with
hia worlt for your Ladyship If he*d known I wasn't well. May-
be he'd have come home. He was always so kind to mc^ poor
Huffh."
"Child, why do you talk about my work? Uon't you
know that I'd r«ther the work went all wrong than that 1
should l^nd you like thU, Mary y I really think we have
<«u«e to be ^ery angry with you."
Her Ladysm/p^
r
" Ah» ilon't be angry^,'* Tlis flickEring brtgiitiieEE of Mary's
Iflce sudderly went out. "I've been feeling »<j happy now
you're Cdmc. And Hugh will be here very soon. Don't be
angry with (n& It isn't worth whiLe'^
The doc>r opened and ihe Jittle bearded, bright-eyed, IocaI
doctor came in. He bad a rea^sufing manner and was kind,
wa!& evidently greatly impressed loa by Lady Anne Chute and
the fntereat she took in his pattcnt-
Wh«Q he left Lady Anne followed him down the Atain,
ivent bBfoie him into the lilllc parlor,
"Well?'' 9hc said, hanging on hi* words. "WdU'*
'* !*m afraid there is not much hope of hei. She ia far
gone in consumption I "
" How long will it be?"
" Not very long. She must have been always very delicate.
It is consumption in its rapid fomi."
"How long?"
" Perhaps a matter of %lx weeks "
"Will nothing save her?"
"Nothing short of a miracle,"
"Miracles are sometimes wrought," Ledy Anne *aid, but
there was Little hope In her voice. '* 1 want my own doctor to
see her — Dr. Siurgis, of Walpole Street. You will meet him
in consultation?"
The little doctor bowed. To meet so distinguished a man
as Dr. Sturgis would be an experience. And a nurse; yes, ht
had one fortunately at this moment disengaged.
"She has all the viEtues of hrr prore^sjon and none of its
fauEti.*' he said with a sudden enihusiasm^ "Cool and steady in
an emergency, and yet so full of sympathy with her patient
that it exhausts herself. T tell her she gives loo much, far too
much. She is an angel, this little Nurse Gil]» as cheerful as a
robin and as tender as a mother, If wc could always find
nuEses like her."
Nurse Gill was installed within a few hoursn The sam«
evening Dr. Sturgis met Dr. Burleigh in consultation. His ver-
dict was Iht same, there was nothing lo be done for Mary but,
to make things easier for her while she stayed,
" ] want you to do one thing for me," Mary said, as l-ad;
Anne Rat by her after the vii^it of the doctors- "Ftoniise mi
yoo won't refuse."
i
1906.]
HER LADYSMiP.
'1 shall tovc 1o do anythin^r you wi9h» if I po&albly can."
' Don't 9cnd for Hugh, He'3 coming back in a week's limc^
I shouldn't like him lo have the shock of sudden acws- When
he comes your L&dyship could break iC to him. You're ihc
sun in his sky. If you were there to help htm he could bear
anything/'
The question of whether she should or should not cable to
Hugh had been in Lady Anne^s mind. Oddly enough «he had
had the same compunction for him that was in Mary'E heart.
She had shrunk from the ihotighl of tlte bad newg reaching him
so far ^vi^y, of hi? lorig journey home with [lie trouble always
beside him. He wai due to sail in five days. And Dr. Bturgitf
bad given Mary a longer day than Dr, Burtcigh, She might
Jive two or three months, he had said.
"Very well, then, I will not cable. I will meet him at
Queenaiown Rut it is you who are the eun in his sky, Maryn"
"tie has nlwaya been very good to me/' Mary said, with
the strange, light smjlc which seemed to put her worlds away
from Lady Anne, *'He would always have been very good lo
me. But [ couldn't fancy myself as the &un in his sky. and Tm
tA glad now, since it's falling out of it I'd have been- Sun;, you
»e that to all of us, my Lady^"
It was quite plain that Mary knew, and had no great do-
ib-e to stay. She talked so cheerfully, so brightly, so almost
coldly about the little time ehc had to stay, thai Lady Anne,
who found this aloofness something intolerable, reproached her
one day.
"You don't care about us, Mary," the said.
"Indeed then 1 do, your Ladyship, The first day I looked
up From my desk in the shop at Ardnagowan and saw you there
in your dre» the color of lilac, I loved you. Dut It has been
trvu^ht home to me lliHt I've done all ] could for you. I u^ed
to think no one could look after the shop for you as well h
I could, but I cjtn trust Katty now, and frhc's atronger than I'd
ever have been. Poor Hugh will feel it, kind boy. But ly^og
here alonct before your Ladyship came, I thought a deal, and 1
thought that perhaps I'd never have made Hugh happy. His
mother was right; I wasn't good eno^igh for him."
" He wouJH say you were a thousand times too g*ood for
him," Lady Anne said in passionate protest, "and he would be
Tight."
634
HER Ladyship^
[Feb.,
'* He mighin't have thought so always, if I'd been his wife,'*
Mary satd pUdrf(y. "He wanted some one cleverer than mc.
t never had much brains, and Hugh Ja v«ry clever. Your
Ladyship will be gi^od la him when I am gone?"
" He will never want for a friend."
"Ah, that's right; I know hc'M always remember me and
be fond of tn^j even when he's iouqd the wUe that is lit for
him/-
The Mttle brown-faced nurse came and went during th^M
conversations, and never interfered unless It weie to do tome
iltlle thing For Mafy'^ comfort- Mary wss ^tty happy with
her nurse. It was Nurse Gill who, of! duty for &a hour
while Lady Anne sat by the patient, went over the hill into
the avenues of red-brick houses and brought back a delight*
luUy human and gracious Benedictine priest to comfort ha
apiritual daughter- Afterwards he came almost daily, and diy
by day the unearthly brightness grew and widened on Mary's
face, lil«€ a light falling from far away through opcTiJng doori
invisible lo those yet tethered to earth.
"I can leave her safely to you and Nurse Gill," Lady AnniT
Mid to Father Benedict one crisp October morning, "' while
I go to prepare the poor fellow she was to have married.'*
" Ah I " The priest'fi Jacc was full of a wise compassiou,
"I often think, Lady Anne, how much the best of it we celi*
bates have- That terrible breaking of ties. We escape all that,
or most of it. having given up the world. Yet^l had «
mother- When I Lost her it was as though every possible tie
had been snapped at once,*'
Lady Anne had been at the farm now for a fortnight
She occupied another of Mrs, Weston's bedrooios, and had
hardly left the house during those days. She had written an
explanatory letter to Lord DuuEaverock at the Kilkee hotel,
one to Miss 'Stasia, another to Ida Hassey. For the present
she must leave everything. Mary was slipping through bcT
hands indeedn There were daya when the fell that she wa«
clinging to the skirts of one who was being drawn up into
heaven-
October had come In dry and crisp after the heats of the
summer. There was a light frost at nights. The briars lurned
scarlet and yellow. The mornings were cool, with blue au-
tumnal mi»ts in all the distances.
igo6.]
Her LADi-smp.
Hs
Nurse GiM thanked God for th« change of weather which
vat so much easier for the patient. Mary lay smiling on h«r
piUows when Lady Anne came m tc say good-bye,
"Wc shall g<t liack here some time on Mondny," Lady
Anne aaid,
''Don't lei him be loo unhappy," Mary answered. "T<U
him 1 sha'n't go till I have seen him. Tell him I'm glad to be
going, if only he won't miss me too much."
"You ate very anxious to he gone," L^y Anne said re-
proachfally, "and you are not going yet, nol for a long time."
She Icfi her smiling her unearthly smile. Nurse Gill ac-
companied her down ihe stairs ^iid to the hoiific door.
"She says herself." she told Lady Ann*^ "that she'll juat
stay to see Mr. Randal- I see no danger myself; but I've
known cases before in which the patients were wiser than aU
the doctors/*
CHAPTER XXIIL
LOVE US- y BET INC.
Hugh Randal coming ashore in the tendcr^there had been
a 9torni in the cijght, and the greut vessel lay out beyond the
foTtfi — caught sight of Lady Anne and his face lit up. It did
AOt Strike him at first oddly thai she should be by herself.
He knew that ^he did unconventional things without thinking
on them; and to him it was merely another wonderful conde-
wension and gracious kindness from hjs Queen to her subject,
that she should be there to loeel hinL
"How wonderTul of you to have come, Lady Anne/* he
uid. " I hope everything Is all right at Mount Shandon,
Are you staying in Queenstuwn, or have you come down from
Cork i '
"I am traveling up to Dublin with you/' she saidn "I
have secured a carriage in the mall train. I want lo talk to
you about things/'
"I was going on to Mount Shandon/' he said, "but of
courje I am at your nerviee/'
He had nr»t taken ilir alarm. He saw her to the G»rriai;et
and then went to look after his luggage, wlih a brightness on hU
face which ttut-^e^tcd to one sympathetic observer that he had
come home lo be married. That Lady Anne should have
Hex Ladyship.
como to meet hLHi, that Ibey wer« to be together i[\ thf way
to Dublin, filled him with delight, A man &o favored migbt
well rejoice in hi? happiness, withoiiE being toa curious as io
what lay beyond.
When he came back to the carnage an attenlLve guard UP-
loclted the door and locked it again behin<J hini^ He put a
coin into the man*£ hand which amaxed the reclpJeriT, and ex*
ctJBed hifi «xtravagaTice to himself by remembering that iMt
wns a home-coming, Like most Inshrnen he was prodigal in
the matter oj lips; and he was really very glad lo be back
again in bi» own land, the only one which really mallered for
him,
Having arranged his various small parcels he turned about
with a smile to Lidy Anne, noticing £or the first time that
^he was very silent. There was sd much to be told on bolh
side}. The train wae moving out a^ he sat down oppovhe to
her Was it only a. matter of three or four weeks since he
hjid talked with her? It seemed an eternity lo him.
■* Well," he began.
Then the joy died out of his eyes and voice. With a sud-
den sharp foreboding he saw that things were not well^ that
something was very III indeed. Mary, hia mother —
"What is it?" he asked almost ronghly.
She answered him directly, seeing (hat he knew half the
truth.
"I came to meet you," she said/^lo tell you that Mary is
iiL"
His face quivered and he uttered a sudden cry. There
was the sound of a hurt animal in il, and Lady Anne heard it
with a shudder. In a second he had controlled hiinaclf>
"She 19 dead?" he said,
"No; not dead, but very ilL She Is waiting to see you.
We are going straight lo her."*
"Is there any hope?"'
"None; it is consumption,"
He stood up and went to the other ond of the carriage.
Through the roar and rattle of the train ehe heard him sob, a
hfirriblc 3ound, She had never btfore heard a man wecp'
The minutes she thought were the worst ol her life as she «ai
there helpless, Gtaring before her at the photographs of seen*
v:ry with (he liiile mirror between ihem. He had lUTitcd away
I
I906.1
ffEP f^DYSHiF.
637
from her to Eh« carriage window, aod, Looking at him irreso-
lutely, she saw his shoulders hfav«.
With a great instinct of compjLEsion she followed him and
Uid hcE hand on his arm.
"She sent tne to comfort yon," she said, "1 would have
cabled at oncc> but »hc would aot Id me. She could not beir
thai you should have the sudden, ahock.*'
"I might have been a week earlier," he said, turning hi*
distorted face irom her gajLe, "I wish I had had that weak*
I might have been with her this summer. \ went away with-
out seeing her. 1 was a bad lover, a bad lover."
"Mary dees not think so."
"Poor Mary! None oJ ufi thought of Mary. She did not
think of herself. I shall never lorglve myfieif."
After a time he grew calmer, regained bifi self.control, and
Ml in hi£ corner of [he railway carriage, his face suddenly
gray and aged. It was piteous to Lady Anne \f> ^ee so grirat
■ change in him. His face, it» bright eyes, its cagcrnc»£, jt»
quick glances, and lively fntdligience were suddcnlyp grievously
marred.
After a time he rouacd himself to ask questions. He re*
niembered to thank Lady Anae for what she hid done for
him and for M^ry. Silting, louking away ficm her wjlh hag-
gard eye&. he suddenly took up her ungloved hand and kissed
It. He bid never done such t thing before* and even at that
moment the color came to her check.
"You were the only one that was good to her," he said.
"My mother wai not, I was not — "
"You should hear her IIDe of you/* Lady Anne »aid gently.
They were in lime (or the mail at Klngaiown- The Amer-
ican boat had got in before its time, and they were able to
save a day- It was Sunday instead of Monday when ihey ar-
rived in London, early Sunday morning, with the bells for the
carlievt services just beginning to clang rn the belfries. Dufing
the journey, deipite his misery, be had been mechanically kind
•ad careful of her. He had niude her have a sleeping cdtriagc
for herself, but it was wasted tn her. The din of the train as
ibo Uy on her pillow seemed deafening in her ear«. She
«^«hed she had not left him. She imagined him aitting up.
light In his corner of the carriage staring straight before hJm
with eye* auddcaly bloodshot and filmed over with suffering,.
Her LADVsmp.
With iht same mechanical kindness he agreed to her aag-
geetion at bfeakfa£i ar the Kustan Hold- \\ ti^ve her <ti«
opportondy of making s toiki rauth nee^cil aftrr ihe ItJPK
Journey and the wakefulness of the night. She bad come ont
of it frcfeh and bright, a& was the way qi" her pcrfeci health.
When she Joined him at the breakfast table afttr iho reJremh'
ment of a bath she was impatieni wiih herseJf bccntJiae In the
many mirrors she saw her checks like a peach, her eye» deniy
as the eyes of a child.
" It is hftieful ro look like a milkrutid, no in«tter vh«t
happens I" she thought with disgusts
He too had made his toilet, but it was obvioua 10 uny 00*
that he wai a nian in trouble. The few hard tears were ihed
and the foiinlains were dry. but he looked as though tbey
ached and burned behind hie tired eyes.
They canght an early train to the pro£pefou$ suburban
town which old-Uihioned people were still nccuEto^ncd to call
the village. X% they alighted an electric train came up behind
theirSi It would lake ttiem cloac to (he farm^ quicker even
than a cab coiild» and at this moment Lady Anne feU that
the truest kindness was to hasten- The minutes were slipping
through the glassy every minute was precious that kept Ibe
lovers to get he r-
The cracked bell oJ the liltle church wat rineii^g •> th«y
walked from the primitive station, a mere platfgrm withooi
butldinga or oRlcials- There had been the firttX Iro^t kn tb«
night, and the gra^s was glistening. The country below the
hi^h'lying platform was bathed in pale golden sunshine. There
was something crisp in ihe air. The leaves av I hey went down
the country road crackled under their feel. The path that
led across ibc fields to the little church waa dotted bef« asd
there with a figure hurrying to the setvicOi The river, re-
plenished by recent rains, mevindered ihroirgh the Acids tn a
leisurely silver line, now and again tumbling ovar a little weir,
or gliding under a bridge-
Lady Anne went up first to Mary's room to |>repaTe her
for her lover's coming- The window* were open, and there
were late rinses in all the vase«. Already the room had been
set straight, and Mary had been lifted a littk* in bed with the
help of an appliance Lady Anne herself had procured for ber.
Her soft bair was brushed away from her forehead aod lied
I906J
Her LADYSJiJp.
with A. blue Hbban. She was weafiug a dainty woollen thing,
ancther gifl from her ladyship, doited over with IJttJe rctcs,
4o(t with lace and pretty with ribbons,
5bc was watching the door with a great expectancy aE
Lady Aone entered. She h;td heard the hllTe bustle of their
arrival, and had rGcognized. Lady Anne's step upon the uncar*
p«tcd stairs.
'* 1 was praying that you might come soon,** she said, '*bul
] hardly hoped to ace you before to-iTjorrow- Has my Hogh
wwne?"
Even in the few days &he had changed. The light of her
■oul WAS burning more clearly through her body's transpar-
ency. Time was when the undiscerning might have called
Mary Hyland plain and insigntlicanl. Now the was beautiful
with ac unearthly beauty. There were brilliant fires in her
bolLow chceki. Her eyes were bright and eager.
" Haa my Hugh come ^ " she a&ked again.
"He is here. He is only waiting for the word to come up
to see you. He is not going to leave you any more. Ah,
here is nurse with something which you arc to diltik before
you 9ce him. Be a good child now and be quiet"
She took the glass with the egg and milk and a few drops
of brandy in It, and drank it obediently^
"She is a good child, a good child," Nurse Gill said.
"That is why I have made her »o pretty. We had an idea
that you and Mr- Randal might come to-day."
Mary's head was turned towards the door ^ her eyes watched
it
"And how is my poor Hugh?" she aaked without relat-
ing her ga£c. " How is he^ your Ladyship? And have you
told him everything? It won't be a great shock to him to
aee Bi«?"
"I have told him everything, and he will rot be shoched.
VOD are Jooktag bo pretty, Mary,"
"Really pretty? 1 never woj pietty. I used to want so
much to look pretty for Hugb^ May I see in the glass if 1
am r«a]Iy pretty before Hugh sees me 7 "
Lady Anne handed her the glass without a word. She
scrutinized herself anxiously; then her face brightenad.
"I do look pretty," »he said; "if only ) wasn't so thln^
I lued CO feel it very much that \ wasn't pretty for Hugh —
640 Her Ladyship, [Feb,
like those beautiful ladies in the poems he read to me. Tm
so glad I'm pretty at last/'
"Such a good child I" sighed the little browa nurse, as
she smoothed the white coverlet. "Such a kind patient I"
The quiet sound of the bell floated into the room and min-
gled subtly with the smell of the late roses, and the scent^ of
autumn which were sweet within it.
The nurse went to the head of the stairs and called softly
to some one who was waiting. Hugh Randal came up, pale,
with tense lips, and passed within the room. He went straight
to Mary. As Lady Anne passed out, leaviog them together,
she heard Mary's little cry of compassion, she saw her arms
extended as a mother's might be to clasp her son.
"Poor souls 1" sighed the little nurse beside her. " Wbat
a sad, sad meeting]"
But Lady Anne hardly beard her. Since the far-off child-
ish sorrow, when she had mourned for her father, grief bad
not touched her. Now she felt the world and the glory of it
crumbling to pieces under her feet. What a world 1 where
youth must die and lovers be parted. And her remorse be-
cause she had broken her tryst with Mary was heavy upon
her.
(TO BE CONCLUDED.)
[HE New Year opens with bnghter prospects for
Ireland. The question o( Home Rule agnJn oc-
cupies A foremost place in English politics by
th< acce^fion cf the Liberalf Id power in the
United Kingdom- The head tit the governtnent,
Sir H, Campbell- ban nermann, i" a firm belJevcf in the doc*
tfine ttiat the *' Icisli people alioiild have the ii^au^^ement of
their own domestic affairs/' A few days before he nccepted
ofnce, and since, he declared that: "The only way of healing
the evils oi Ireland — removing the diflicuUies of her adminis-
tration, of giving conlentment and prospcrily to her people^
ftnd of making her a dtrtngih instead of a weakness to the
<mpire — i* that the Irish people should have the management
of thejr own domestic aliairs. Good government by lorejgiiers
can never be a substitute for the government by the people
thcmsetvea/'
No one questions the honesty and sincerity as Home Rul-
ers of ijch members of the government as Mr, John Morley,
Mr. J&mes Dryce, Mr. Llcyd-George, Mr. Hcibcrl GladktoDOi
Mr. John Rjrns. and the new Li>rd-Lieatenint for Ireland,
the Karl of Aberdeen; they are all earnestly in favor of do-
ing justice to Ireland. We may fairly expect then that tbs
Irish question will be dealt with in the new Parliament. Neither
<an the pressing ^ubji^ct of university education for CHlholicfi
be if^nored ; it, a» well as amendment of the Wyndbjim Land
Purchase Act, which shall free that measure from many very
objectionable fcaiiires, is certain to ftnd a prominent place in
ihc parhamcntary programme of the new minUtry. Whatever
miy or may not be done, one thing is certain, nothing short
of cntrustin]; Ireland w^th the management of her own affairs
rill Haiiafy the aipirationj and demands of the Iri»h people.
At the f,reit National ConverLtii^ri, held recently in Dublin,
the following resolution was adopted by acckmAtlon; "W#
solemnly oaacn chat no new system of government in Ireland
will be accepted as saiisfactt^ry except a legislative assembly
642 GoLDwiN Smith and the Irish Question, [Feb.,
freely elected and representative of the people, wEih power to
make laws for Ireland, and an executive government responsi-
ble to that aEsembly^ and this convention declares that the
Irish National Party cannot enter into an alliance with or give
permanent support to any English party or government which
does not make the question of granting such an assembly and
executive to Ireland the cardinal point of its programme/*
Mr- John Redmond declares that the reliance oi Ireland is not
upon any British declarations, however plausible or encourag-
ing they may be, but upon her own strenglh in Parliament
and the absolute justice of her demands. The Irish question
iSj therefore, certain to be kept in the foreground of English
politics until a satisfactory answer is given to it. Not since
the days of Gladstone has it occupied so prominent a position
AS it does at the present moment.
And not alone the political position^ but the economic
question, the emigration question, the Gaelic or language tnovc"
ment, the industrial revival have awakened the deepest inter-
ests in the minds of the people. The bishops and priests
have united with the leaders of the nation in a desperate at-
tempt to stem the tide of Irish emigration. Dr. Douglas Hyde,
a distinguished scholar and the present head of the Gaelic re-
vival, is at present in this country in the interest of the lan-
guage movement and the revival of Irish industries. Where-
ever he has gone he has been most warmly received. He is
telling the sad story of his country's wrongs to college and
university students in their halls, and to the American people
in interview and public address. He speaks of a land closely
allied to the United States and blessed by Providence with
great natural riches and incalculable wealth, whose half-de-
serted streets resound ever less and less to the roar of traffic,
whose mills are silent, whose factories are fallen, whose price-
less harbors are deserted, whose fields are studded with ruintd
gables, memories of the past. The cause of this deplorable
national decay he justly ascribes to the " government — the bad
government — of foreigners."
And the only remedy that he or anybody else can see is
to restore to Ireland her right of self-go vemmrnt, so that she
may become, as he puts it, " Irish all out," speaking her own
language, thinking her own thoughts, living according to ber
own ideals, writing her own books, singing her own songs, and
i9o6,l GoLDtr/x Smith axd nrs l/trsrr qvsstioi^. 643
supplying herself with her own maitufaciures. Such an Ire-
land he and every fair-mlndej man knoWE cannot cxUt under
"a government of fortiynerB." For (he prestnt English gov-
ernmenc of Irclmd, known as "Dublin Castle government,"
BO pronounced a Tory as Lord Dunr^ven declares lo be "an
tnachronisTn »n<l the mo^t extravagant gavernmeni in tho
world in^posed upon Lhe poorcfl people In Europe." "Before
longp" he adds, "if Ireland's downward career lb not checked,
flhe will bccoTHc ft hurden, n pauper ira receipt of outdoor re-
lief, for the amount of taxation derived ftom her will not
cover the expenses of administration,"
Now that a Liberal GovernTnent ts in power, Euiely an end
will be put to such a shameful cpndiiion of things. No Liberal
Hlfildtry can aflord to toJcfaie at this laLc day ihc scandals
mnd disgrace, avowed by foe and friend alike, of cuch gbiirg
English misrule in Ireland- Assuming then that the prescni
Liberat government of the Unit«d Kingdom will at an earfy
date inirodjec an frish Home Rule tneasuf e, it may be wc!l 10
recall the features of Gladstone's Sill, In 1886, Mr, Gladstone
introduced his 6rsi iiome Rule "QMl. Its chief points may be
ftucnmarjxed as follows:
An Irish I'arliament lo sit in Dublin, and IrUh members to
cease 10 sit At Westminster.
Jddges |o bti appointed by ihe Trifh Governioent, and lo
be removable by ihe Irish Parliamenc.
Ireland's contribution to the revenue to be reduced ffom
ens-twelfth to otic Tifteenih.
The Irish LegiaUture 10 have the power of tAxAilon, except
as to eustome and excise, but to be debarred lri>ni interference
with the army, navy, and foreign affairs, and from the making
of any religious rflrtriwmrnt
Measures 10 be taken for securing the unity of the empire
and the protection of ProtcHt«nlA.
This bill failed of paxaage by reason of the gigsntic propa-
ganda which was preached agaJnic it In England. Scotland
and Waled pronounced in favor of it So have Canada and|
more recently, Au^iraJia.
The second Home Rjlc — which Mr Gladstone introduced
in 18^3, and which, after passing the Houfc of Con^mons, via.%
rejected by the House of Lord^ — wa* considerably leu a *' root
and branch" afTair than the former measure. Indeed, it w»
I
641 Gor.DH'r^s' smrtf aptt? the Irisn Questiox, [Feb.
ipcdflc*lly <utcd in the preamble that the aupremc ftuthoriiy
of the DritiBh Parliam<Nl wa* not lo be impaired. In the
meantime Mr- FartitlE hnd dirt)* and the grave scandal in which
be W8> involved had the elTect r^l apIitEiit^ the Irish pari/.
But to d^iy, and for Bome years paai, the parly ha& been thor-
oughly fcuniled and mott abty ltd by Mr, Jtihn Redmoiwl
who has shown himicH to be possrs^rd of the highest <iuaii»
ties of leadership. He haft Ihe fullest aupport and confidence
of his ctJunUymEii. Such is Ireland's position al the br^innir};
of the New Year and ihe opemng of the fii*l aeasion of the
new I'arliflment,
And now, because the question of Home Rule for [rctand
U certain to occupy the foreground in ihe poliiTca of the
United Kingdom, we have turned with much interest to ■
timely volume just publifthed by ProfeMor Goldwia Saiilk.
The title ol the work is Irish History and thf Irish Qtustiai,
Fifit a word about the author. Mr Goldwin Smilh ii a self-
exiled Englishman, a distinguished man of letters, a i^raduatc
and ex professor of Oxford University- In British politics h«
is a l-iberal" Unionist ; in religion he is an avowed sceptic. He
entertaine, as is evident fiom his wrillnga and his fr«tucnt let-
ters to Ihe daily press, art intense bitterness against every fonn
of revealed religiun, more e^peoially against the dogmatic teach-
ing and history of the Catholic Church. And as we shall see,
this dccp-seaied anli-CathoHc hostility mars what is in many
other respects a fairly ju«1 and always, because of the splendtd
ityle of Ihe writer, ati intensely interesting summary of Iriih
history. He traoeK the general course of Ireland's hifitoiy and
considers it in its causative rdaitons to the presetit fttustion
as we have outlined it.
Among his special qualifEcations to undertake this work —
though it may well be doubled if any Fngiishman, cipecially
one of Mr Goldwin Smith's strong prejudices and peculiar tem-
peramentn could give us an impartial survey of Irish history —
he informs us in his prelace that some forty years ago he
Spent a iumner in Dublin as the guest of Edward Cardwell,
then Chief Secreiary to the Lord- Lieu tenftni of IrcUnd aad
the real bead of the Irish Government. Under Card well's roof
he heard the Irish question fully discussed by able men, in-
cluding Robert Lowe, and derived a still greater advantage
from constant and lasting intercourse with such friends «»
1906.] GoLDwiN Smith a^'b the Ixisn Qumstion. 645
Lofd Chancellor O^Hagan, Sir Alexander Macdanald. the head
of Ch« EtiuCiiliDn DepartmcELt, and oth^r leading Irish Liberals
<a& the modcfale school, who were ardent pairicls and Uior-
ouehy^oing reformers. Mr. Goldwin Smith says that to the
teaching of ihct^e men he has always lonbced back for his best
guidance in dealing with the lri?h question. Al the same
timtf b< strove to form an independent judgment by acquaint-
ing himself thoruughty wilh the country and its pfopilc. The
fruit of his studies lA-as a little book <iililled /ri'j* HUlory and
Irifk CharacUr, in which he preached In favor 0/ chaiiiy and
reconciliation by pointing out that the Eouices of Ireland's ifor*
rows were to be found in natnra! crrcnmstonccs and hislcrTtfal
iccidents. as much as in the crimes and follies of Englifh mis-
rtjie in recent times. The esfay has been auperstdcd by his-
torical and political works wbEcb, in th« course of nearly hall
a century, have been evolved by the Home Rule controverjy.
Not only has the subjet^ti however, lo&t none of ris interrM for
the author, but his confidence in the wisdom of hU Irish
ffienda and inscrjctors has been strengthened rather than im-
piaired by the course of events.
Now we are quite prepared to give the author ciedit lor
an amount of hone» sympathy with the distress and EufTeringa
of the Irish people. His sente of jtt^jce revolts a^ain&t the
Itacfu) wrongs inflicted upon the nation In the veiy first lire
of his recital the note of sympathy is itruck, and in the last
line he ha* written he asks; "What fsT'Ofl object of aggfan-
ditement can be half 30 imporfant as a contented and loyal
Ireland?" From hla study of Irish history he finds Thai, ''of
tW hiatorics, ihe history of Ireland is the faddest. For neaiEy
seven centunca it was n course of ^itrife helween races, blocd-
sbed, maa^acre, mt»governmenl, civil war, oppression. ar<d mifciy/'
Turning I0 the country's geographical positior and natural
rMOurc«a, h« reminds us that ihc Theatre of the trngedy ie a
large island lying beside one nearly three times lar|[fr, which
cuts it o^T from the continent of Europe, while on the other
side it fronts the wide ocean, "The climate is, for the most
part, too wet for whcflt. The pasture is very rich. Ireland
leema by nature to be a graainc country and a country of
large farms. TilUge and small fatms have been enforced by
ihe redundance of the rural population co:isci:|uent upon the
deatruction of urban induitrica. In coal and mincriEs Ireland
U poor, whiic the sitter iKlnncI abounds in them, and, in \^u
igoG.] GoiDH'm Smith ajvd the ixiSH QuBsnoN, 647
fritdal system tacked The keystone o1 iFs arch, the king, wha
was an absentee, aad whose pan could cot be filled ade-
quately by a royal justiciar. From Lhc outlet the bane of
Iriah principality was dirlegaled rule. The interesting fact U
noted that representatives t-f IreUnrf were ai first called to ihe
Parliaitienl o£ ttdward 1, ai Westminster, but Ihc inconveH'
iencc Gcenis to have been found too great, and a bi-cameral
assembly was instituted, wUli a lower house, formed of repre-
sentatives of counties and boroughs, uhoee consent would be
form^Uy necessary to taxation.
Nothing worthy, however, of the name of parliamentary
ffoverflmenl jcemt ever to have prevaitcd in PlanlaEenet and
Tudor tim^s. As a rule, the Parliament of Dublin wa^ a tool
in the hands of the deputies. From the Arst the reUiion be*
Iween The feudal realm, established by ilcn;y II. i« a pari of
Ireland, and tEie native tribal orginiiation was border war.
The new comers and the cirigjnal inhabitAni^ were alien to
each other in race, language, and social habits, as well as in
political institutions- The Normans could not subdue the
Celt, nor the Celt wholly oust the Normans. Left lo \xs own
feeble resources, however, the Anglo-Norman colony foiled
to become a dominion, and presently dwi)\dlcd to a Pale, «Ea
the region immediately around Dublin was termed Between
the Pate and the Celt inccsiant war was waged, with the usual
Atrocity of strugeles between the two racea. Fuaion there
could be none. There was not the bond of hufnan brother-
hood, or th«t of a common tongue. On neither side was the
murder of a member of the other race * oime- " Never/' he
Bumik up, '* wftA there a more inauspicious baptitm of a nation."
What Mr Smith styles degeneration, that is the absorption
of the invader by the Irish, had set in among i|}c Anglo Nor-
iban C'^tonists outside the Pale, and even to a conniderable ex-
lent within the Pale- Anglo Normans took to the native cuj-
tom of TottcrAge, which consisted of putting out a child to be
reared bv a iribc^nian, who became it£ foster father; and of
gosiipredc^ which was a spiritual kinship formed nt the font.
They took atso to the frishman's &a^ron mantle and long
mobitache, to his weapons, to Liis mode of riding, even to hU
UngiJ^ge, aod <ubititiiled lfr«hoti lor the feudal law^ Mr,
Goldwin Smith depict* in a few sentences the strange com-
(found of feudiliftnt with Tribalism which ensued In the shape
of chieftaindei, bencefDrtb tbi; predominant powers- "Eni^li^lv
turons <3otT0d their baronUl characicr, donned that of thf CHbaJ
chiefs and made ih^mBcIvrs ind^prtidcnl lords of wide d<majxii
peopled by the native Irith, Ii se^ms that they retained the
Kontian insiincl of command- Mdny of them changed iheir
Anglo- Norman for Irish names — BourJee^ O'Neill, O'Brien.
O'Contiof' They kepc in their pay troops of bravos, gallow-
ffUtLse> ''^^ kerne$-'* Their rule seems to have combiirfd ihe
exiortion* of Ihe feudal la* with those of the native chiefs
Thes Celtidscd Anglo-Norman chiefs deemed themacEves in-
^^pQndcnt prJncei, and, openly or practicaUy, renounced a\]t*
fliance to Ihc Knglish Crown. It was with th^se poteniaie»
tbftt the Crown had \q deal in tt£ struggle with Ihe Irish djfli-
caU^**- ^^^ ^^*^ bttn united they might have prevailed ;
hut tbcy were too often at feud wilb eaeh other, while policy
ted »om« o' then to tide with The sovereign's deputy. Of the
■ept« Acktiowledging CelticUed Anglo- Norman rulers, the three
mo»t powerful were the Geraldines of the north, close to
Dablint ^^ he^d of which beeanie afterward Earl of Kildarc;
the Oortldinoi of the south, in MLinstcr, the head of uhicb
^H-b«c*tno Ivarl of Desmond, and the Butlers, also in Ihc south,
^Hwbo*o heid became the Earl of Ormonde- The O'Neills in
^^ Ulttttr were another powerful eept. The Butlers were almost
I alvv^y* °'^ *^^ ^'^^^ °^ ^^'^ Crown.
I When Htnry VII. bEcame Kin^ of England the Anglo-
I |i|ornitTi colony or *'?alo" had shrunk to ft circle of two
^^m -n^ ^ bnlf ctiuntieH aroi^nd Dublin, defended by a ditch. Had
^^t iii^ ohioli of the oiitlyini* tribes been unanimous, which they
I ««f> vcfy f^r from being, the Pale would almost ccfiainly haii«
\Mtn destroyed. Henry Vjl. tried to govern Ireland Ibiough
th* h*«d of the great Geraldine clan, but the experiment came
I4f n«thlnK. To put an end to the aspirations to indepe&dent
qilitiMtaUiy. which even within the Pale had budded during ihe
lAtia' fc»I' *>' ***^ fifteenth century, and to bring Irish legtsla-
Iti^n co«ipt«tely under the control of the Crc-wn^ the Lord
Itfiiuxy, Poyningi, caused to be carried through the Parliameat
^ iIm Palo > p*^r of acts which bore bis name, fubjectieg Irish
hg^^ion to the control of ihe English Council.
flM fifit ftcl ordain«d that in future no Parliacient tfaould
Lbff h«ld in Iretind, "but at such seasons as Ihe King'a Lieu-
(ail»t in-Oiuncil there first do certify to the King uiMkr ifce
itttti seal of that Und Uie causes and considcrationa and all
si,:ch *cu »> then tceraath »houJd pa^s in the »aid ParliaKettt."
iqo6.] {ioLDWfS Smith asd the Irish Qv£stion. 649
The second act provided that all public statutes, 'Mate made
wiihln the realm of Kne^and," should be iit force jia Ireland.
This flcl^ It was decided, applied to all Knglhh acts pfior to
the tenth year of Henry VII. "Ireland wa£ thut practically
turned from a separate principality into a political dependency
of England/* The work of Poynings uvas long afienvard com-
pleted by the act of George I, affirming ihe right of the
British Parliament lo legislate for Ireland^
During the gutW part of the reign of Henry VllT. the non-
eocrcJvc policy pursued by his father in Ireland was continued.
After the King's rupture with the Papacy, however, antagon-
ism of teJi}j]Oii was added to estrangement of race. Ifcyond
the English Fale, which» as wc have seen, was greatly ^hrunkea,
the change of religion never reached the people. Hence-
forth Proteetantism wag to be the religion of the conqueror ;
Catholicism the leligion of the coniiuered. By these antecedent
tnd concurrent circumstances we are prepared for the horrors
of the war prosecuted through almost the whole reign of Eliza-
beth between the English and the iHsh^ or between the Protest*
tnts and the Catholics, in Ireland, Mr Goldwio Smith testi-
fies that "of atZ the wars waged by a half-clvili/cd, on a bar-
barous and despised race these wars waged by the English on
the Irish seem to have been about the most hideout. No
quarter was given by the jnvadpr lo niAr, woman^ or child.
The butchering of women and children is repeatedly and brutally
avowed. Nothing can be mor« horrible than the cool satiafac-
lion with which English commanders report their inastacrcs-"
Then, again, famine would be used deliberately as an instru-
ment of war What was called law was almost a« murderous
as warfare^ Men were hanged at aasiKCS by scores, and those
legalijied massacres were reported by the I.ord Deputy with
Mtisfaction as grutcfying proofs of the increased intiuencc uf
public justice. A Protestant bishop witnesses them with com-
placency. Respect fur Eiuman lifr must have perinhed, "Such
was the training which^ in the formative period of nfllTonal
chAincier, the Celtic Irish received and which mnat be borne In
mind when wc come to atrocities committed by Ihem^elves at
a not very much later period."
After recounting the tribulations of Ireland under the Stuailit
Dttder the Protectorate, the Re^oratinn, and the Revolution of
i68J^, Mr. Ooldwin ^miTh rapre^trh the brlir! \\\u\ had the
Catholic won he would ccrtiinly have deprived the L'^iVAi\%\i\
GOLDiyiN SM/TH ANn THE IRISH QUESTION.
of his land, perhaps of his life. He goes on to point out thAt
the Frodcsiant. having won* proceeded at once to avenge and
secure himself by bindini; down bis vaiiquiehfrJ fud with chftins
of iron. Hcncetorth the kw, without aciually prohibiting the
Cachf>llc tdigion, prcvided^ aa the framcrA of the pcn^l itAtuie*
hoped, for lis extirpaiion. "'All piiciU were lequired to be
registered and were fiifbidden to perform acrrlce out of llicir
own pirishci. All Catholic archbishops and bi^hopb wer« ban-
Uhcd and were punifhable with death if they returned, 50 that
in future there could be no ordination- Muiih^ iuid fiUrs aUo
were banished. Catholic chapels might not hav« b«Us or
steeples. There were to b« no pilgrimages or wayside cro«M-
Kewarijls were offered tti informers against Catholic bialiopt,
priests, and si^hoalmntcers, and their trade was lauded as honor-
able tervicc to the State- Marrfa^c of a Catholic with a Prot*
estant wa^ prohibited; to perform it was a capital otTetice; to
WIS coriversion of a Protectant in CAlhoUciMn. Ketigiou«
hatred outraged domestic affection by enacting that if the aon
ol A Caibulic turned Pfotebtanl the inheritance should ai once
vest in hitn, his father bcifig reduced to a life iritereU; tlwt
the wife of a Catholic, mrning Protestant, ahould be set tree
from her husband's control and entJtlcd to a BflileineQt; that
a Catholic could not be a guardian, so that, dying, ho had to
leave his children to the guardianship of an enemy of their
faith."
In a word, by the aeries of tnaclmenlA called the Tcnal
Code the Irith Catholfc was reduced to hclota^e, prJiiical and
$Qcial, while meaeureA were tak^n for the extinction of hia r«IU
gion- "To crufih him politically he wan exclotted from Partia*
meni, from the franchise, from municipal of^cc, frotn the magts-
tracy. from the jury box. as wcU a* from public appotntmontt of
all kinds, and even from the police force. To crush him socially
he wn^ exciudcd from all the higher callings but that ol medicine.
from the beach, from the bar, aiid from the army. To him waa
denied the armorial bearings which dtfioted a gentleman' To
divorce Mm from the land he was forbidden to acquire a free-
bold, or a lease beneficial beyond a ceriain rate; he waa de-
parted from bequeathing hts estate, and his estate waa brolien
up by making it heritable ' in (gavelkind,' that ia to say, equally
divisible among all sons^ Th^n. a^atn, the gate of knowledge
irar closed againit him. He was shut out of the uoiversiiy,
(orbiddcTi to open a ^cHool, forbidden to tend hia children
i9o6.] GoLDivr.y Sm/th and rne Trssh Question. €%\
abroad for education. ThaC he might nev^r jiec against op-
pression he was rtisurmeiJ, and prohibited from keeping a horse
of more than £% valLiCn He might not even be a gamekeeper
or a watchman,"
Mr, Goldwin Smith says justly ihat to such a relation bc-
cvcen races and relig'ions under the same government hUtory
»□ show no paralkl. He quotes ;vilh approve) Burke'fi ar-
raignment to the effect that the (rcatTFient ol Irish C^thotice
uTj*lcr the Penal Code was *' a complete system Ml of coherence
and conEifitency; well digested and weJJ composed in all ill
parl& It was a mnchine oF wise and elaborate contrivance, and
was as well fitted for the opprc»Eion, impovcrifhmenr, and de^
gradation of a people, and the debasement in them of human
nature ilseif, as ever proceeded from the perverted ingenuity
of man."
Nor for the Irish Catholics was the cup of woe yet lullp
In England, after the Iriiimph ol the principles of the Revolu-
tion of 168^, the mercantile parly mounted to power, and com*
merce in those days was everywhere ridden by the policy of
protectionism carried to the pitch of pfrjbibition, Ireland the
Hn^lish Protectionist rt^garded hs n foreign couniry and a par-
ticularly dangerous enemy to hia interests. Their Cftttlc trade
having been killed by an act of Charles 11^. the Irish had lakvn
to the export trade in wool and to woollen manufaeluricv.
"The wool grown on Irish sheepwalks wa* of the finest and
was eagerly purchased by France and Spain." This industry,
also, English monopoly killed by prohibiting the exportaiton
of wool to foreign countries and the importation of Irifh uooU
Jen goods into England. The same jealous ripacity leems suc-
ce^isively to have killed or (;ripplsd the cotton industry, the g1ov«>
making industry^ the glass industry, the brewji^g industry, to each
of which Ireland successively turned; Rnglind'^ %^^^^ being bent
not only on excluding the Irish competitor from its own market,
but on keeping the Irish market to iiKclf-
Une field for Ireland's manufacturing industry itill remained.
To her had been promised a free enjoyment of the Uneo
trade, whicli even Straflrird had encourftged by promoUTig the
growing of ilax while he discouraged the wool trade; yet even
ihi« promiAC \u%\\ fintukcicm could accuse England of eluding
bjr trickf of the tariff. On the other band, England npediiig
more bar Iron than she could produce, the importation of bar
iron from Irsland waa allowed ; but the consei\u«Ei^ Mt«% ^
f$t CoLDWiH Smith aa'd the iKisa Question. (Feb.,
consumption of limber for fm^ltJng which dcDudcd Ireland of
her foresi*. The truth is that tht position oi Ireland during
the century following the revolution of \th% was worse «veQ
iban thit of the American Calonits. in which commercial re-
sirictionR grneralJy were loojtely enforce<i, and which, when
«»ict eoforccnacm was aitcmplcd, rose in aims. The Colonies,
moreover, were regarded with pride and atTeciion. Catholic
Ireland was re^eirdcd with CLjntempt and hatred.
What wi* the outcome of a system under which (he IrUh-
n found the Uw hU inveterate enemy in every 6eM oi
thought, leatiaient, and activity, religious, social, educational,
tad cotnnercUI? An economical result was thai, cut off from
nttttufacturet and trade, the people wi^rc thrown back for >ut>-
5t«lcnt< wholly on the land. For the (and they competed «'lib
ibe eafiereen of deipatr, undertaking to pay for their iittle
lote rvPla wtttch seldom left them and their families enough
for the tftara avCeaEltlef of life.
Tti9 Itaitt ol things in Ireland, atier th« enactment of the
P«m1 Code and throughout the greater part of ihc eighteenth
evAlury, li thui depicted by Mr. Goldwin Smith; "On such a
«C«fl« of enUcry as the abodes of the Irish cotters the sun has
r^reiy looked down- Their homes were the most miserable
hovel*. chimneyletA, filthy. Of decent clothing they were de&-
|ll«i1e> Their food w^is the potato; fometimcs they blr^d thpir
hoftei and mixed the blood with sorrel. When the potato
mUd, u U often did, came famine, with diEcate in its tiam-
Waitl «ad misery were in every lace; the loads were spread
With iUad and dyini;; there was i^ametim» none to bear the
iW*d to grave*, and they were buried in the liclds and ditches
wks'V they perithed. Kluxer and malignant fev<» followed,
lty»«g whole villages wa«te."
A contemporaneous witness is quoted lo Ihe foUowing
tffaol I "I have aeen the laborer endeavoring to work At hii
iptiU, hill fainiiiig for WAnt ol food, and forced to omit it^ I
hiifu soon the hclples* orphan exposed on the donghill, and
mine lo Uke him io for fear of infection- And I have seen
th> hiiikiiy inUitl sucking at the breast of the already expired
llAfSHl"
titHih WM ihe oonditioii of the mass of ths Iriih people
VHllsf ihf gOTOtnraent of the first of free nations and in ihe
ffl III Nawton, AddUon, and Pope. The naiive Undovners,
Iflty ttllMlned on their estatee, might have had some coni'^
i9o6J GOLDWiN Smith and the Ijush Questioh. 653
p4f£i9n on their aerU and done tometbing to amclionile their
lot. Many of the landlords^ however, were ab^i^nlecs. tcsjdcncc
in Treland, esprclally after agrarian war had bfgun, being any-
thing but plc^fianL, Their place waa lakcn by the middJeman,
Ihrough whoau ritlhless agercy ihey wrung iiinrdinate rents
from icnanta, and who frequently sub-lc:, sometimes even thrtc
Of (our decpj so that the cotter groaried uj>der a hierarchy oF
ej(t4>itioii,
"To the extortion of the middleman was added that, even
mof« hated, of the lithe proctor Cromwell had at Least te*
lievcd Ireland from the burden oJ the AntrUcan Slate Chuich.
That incubus had been reimposed after the Reaioration^ and
the peasant was thencefonh compelled, cut of the nsLscrablc
produce of hts potato iield or paicli of oat£, besides the exor-
bitant rent, not only to provide for his own priest, but to pay
tithes to a clergy who5G mbsion wa^ 10 cxiirpaie the pcntaats'
religion," Pluralism was rife among the Irish Anglii^^n clergy,
Iti the eptscopate there were u few prelates who nought to do
well by the people, like J^crkeJey; but Swtfi could say of Irish
Anglican bishopB generally that "the government no doubt
Appointed good men, but these were always murdered on
Hounslow Heath hy highwaymen, who took their credentials,
personated them, and were installed in their placet."
Mr, Goldwin Smith, who, as a Unionist, can have no wish
to accentuate the shadows of the picture, coiLcedes while there
nay have beett worse institutions than tlie State Church of
Irvland, there was "ever a greater scandal. "What," he asks,
" mu^t have been tlie feehngs of the Irish peasant when of hit;
crop of potatoes, all too scanty for him and bia children, ihe
tithe proctor came to claim a tenth part Id the name of a
Christian minister?"
Coming nearer to the present day, Mr. Goldwin Smith re-
gards as of primary importance the economic question, wheih«r
IreJatiii is abli* to suppoil even her piesenl bhruithcn poputa*
tiofl? Now the obvious answer is that Ireland half a century
A||[o was able to support twice the present population. The
■kioK were th« same then as now. " Patriotic eloquence/' he
wHief. " wHl not change her «kies or render it otherwise than
cruet to indut^e her people to stay in a land ia which they
cannot earn their bread. Insiancea there may be of barren
«oll madCt by the loving industry of the fttnall owner, Iruitfu]
>S4 Gqldww Smith and the Irish Question, [Feb.,
and capable uf supporlmg a large population; but ihr indud-
iry oi the fmall owner, though it can improve the soil, c>nnot
ahcr I he akics. "
It U m 40 evidently pet^iniistic tnood ihat the author pro-
pounds the following qucstioost Is Ireland generally capable
of being turned with advantage into an arable country? Cin
wheat or grain ai any kind be proliiably rAibed there m face
of the conipelilinn al Ihe greflt giam growing coiinlrivfk lika
the reg^ion now operied, and bidding fair lo be greatly ex*
pandedf in the Canadiau norlhwest ^ Then, again, is there
rensofi to look in any oiher dUeciion than farming {orasprtdy
cxtention ol Irish indnstries, such as would provide bread suf-
ficient for the population? I« the water power of Ireland,
now thai electricity has been developed, lileely to do for her
what haJi been done for Rnglnnd by coal? Eft the shipping
trade, for which until a comparaiivJy recent period the Iri>h-
man bus had but litlte opportunity of showin)^ tt turn, likely
to incrcaic ? Evidently these are questions which, at fvur au-
thor «ayi, it U for econonticts, not for politiciana or paitiotic
omtoTE, to decide.
It it well known that luceeastve attempts to solve Ireland's
^nirian pfobtem have been made in land purcbaic acta, eul*
inaliii^ irt the Land Purchase Act of 1905. To the book he-
re us M lucid and inlDr«*tirig account of thi* Ugitliitiiir hav
been contributed in a (uppJcmentary chapter by Mr. Hugh J^
McCann, of the Irith Bac^ In Mr. McCann'a opinion, the Wyad*
ham Land Purchase Act of i(>oj may be deuribed as a treaty
between EriRh landlords and their icnanic, by which, as oHgU
nally drafted, the Utter would have gotten much the woi»t of
it. Hy the hitl introduced in Parlinnicnt cveiy advanlo^je or
benetit chat the landlords nought or cUinted was secured to
him in term» that could not be gainsaid, while from the tenant's
point oi view the biil had very grave, If not fatal, defveta. la
spite of zhe v^ortB of the wiac&t of their teadern* the Irish ten*
antry are rushing into bargains under the Wyndham Land
Purchaae Act that, in Mr. McCann'a judgment, may eventuate
in dife eonsequonces for ihem&dves and for the country.
The conviction ia exprcsEtd that the inapoitation of Caita-
dian cattle* wh«& it comes, will have a serious elTect on ibc
InKh produce market, and that a further decline in prodooe
prices may be expected. Will the Iriah tenant be then able
i9o6.] GoLDwiN Smith aj^d the Irish Questjoj^. 6$$
to dincharge his liability Xo th« State and hiive aufHcient oiar-
gin for living ^ That ia a question for ihe fulore-
Such \% %\\t survey oi Irish history as givtn us in :h"s in-
lensely Lntcrc&iing work by a master of condensation and style.
On the whal«, ft is fair and ]u« and does credit to the author.
For thai reaion, it is all the more to be regretted thai Mr.
Smith's intcEtsely anti-CalhoUc ]>rqiidiccs should have greatly
lessened the merit of an othcrwife fairly just and valuable sum-
mary of Irish hisn^ry- He ia wholJy unjutt in Vn every rcltr-
«cc« to the Catholic Church and \\& priesthood, He makc«
bltTory Id lit in with his own view^. Hca^sutne^ a« indiEput-
able what is controverted by hf^torians of the highest charac-
icr. To take only a f<w instances: "The Church of Ireland,"
lie wntes, *'&ceins m its origin to have been national and
neither child nor vassal of Rome. But Roitir gradirally cast
her Kpell, in lime extended her authoriiy over ii, Iif headf
lookrd to her as the central support of the interrste of their
order and as their proieciress against the rude ercr^achments
el the native chiefs. Norman archbishops of Canterbury terved
u iran«mitte(? of the inHucnce/'
0\ the authenticity of the Botl. that Hrnry IL ia said to
have obtained from Adrian IV., authoriiing him to take pot*
•e»s|on of Ireknd* he has not the tlighlest doubt, though the
wtijrEht of impHftiai historians inclines to the opinion tbst thJE
document was a forgery. '*The Papacy," he claims, *' in this
ftnd oth«r in^tancea, used the Norman Conqu«»t a« the instru-
ment of il5 own aggrandisement-" Writing of the Irish priest-
hoodp and the support it gave lo OXonncll in his Repeal
movement, he asserlt that: "The priest* cooBccrated the meet'
inga and the aenlimenta by ceiehraiing MasE on the grounds
where the moniter meeting* were held." And he adds: *' It i»
aurely idle to contend that a priesthood acting thus, and hav'
ing iia contra in Roms, 11 oj^ly a Christian ministry, not a
power of polilten] disturbance." Had O'Connell succeeded, Mr,
GoMwin Smith doe* not healtalc 10 assure hie readers that he
would have put Ireland "under the ban of a reactionary
prteEthond,"
Over and over again he raiaei the fahe cry, lo-day no-
where ftcrioujtly entertained ontKide a limited circle of blind
btgota and intcroied place bolder*, ibat "Home Kuic means
Rome Rule." He reiterate* that the Roraan Catbohc relJEion
I
is mcd]V!vaL ; that the training of its roinlMcrs inevitably shuts
out light which would be fata) to mccSisvaL bctiefs; that the
Maynooih prJcat comes out proof against the intclUctuaJ influ-
entfs and advancing science of his time; that he U " the men*
ta] lietfeman and the preacher of the syllabus, which analhcma-
tiKcs freedom of thought and cLaims for the Church dommion.
not only over th<; sou] but over the body, such as was bor*
\n The Middle Ages."
And followijig Sir Horace Plunk«ll. desplle \ht tttahittJi
disproof of the contention by Kev. Dr. O'Riordan, in his boolt,
Cotholuity and Progress in Ireland^ Mr, GoMwin Smith holds
Ib&t "in the place oF industry and commerce the inl^uencc cf
the Catholic prie£lhood h^s generally been the taisic." Tn Mr.
GoEdwin Smith's opinion it ia not " Ihe curse of Cfomwell/'
but the curse of a Mrongly and inherently reactionary priot*
hood "that lies heavily upon Ireland/'
What a pity to lind an old man, otherwise sane and highly
intelligent, holding such preposterous views. And yci he in-
timates, in the last page of his book^ how this &ame priot-
ridden people may become a having element in the social char-
acter g\ the United Kingdom. " Irtland," he writes, "is per-
haps happy in having been cut ofT from the prodigious devel-
opment of luxury and dissipation which^ as social writers tell
us, ha& bten taking place on the othf^r side of the channvt, M
well a£ from the dominatioa of the stock exchange. She may
in thia way hccome a saving clement in the social characlci of
the United Kingdom*"
He does not venture to icll us how this can be done with
her religious and moral ideals of life rising no higher than what ■
he is pleased to style "mediEPval ^upefstilion." Whatever one
may think of Mr GoLdwin Smith's peculiar views on the sab-
ject of the Catholic Church and the Irish priesthood, one thine
at least IS certain — that the lime has come when Ireland mu6t
be governed in accordance with Irish ideas. The enlightened
Opinion of the world looks to the new Liberal Government lo
act the machinery in motion which will brirg cotiteniiDent and
prosperity to the people of Ireland. Hence we jay the out-
look is brighter than \\ has been at any time during tbv put
decade.
4
I
THE CHURCH AND HER SAINTS.
11.
B? REV, JA^f££ J- FOX. D,D,
I.
'EAKING of the pamper which appeared, under
tfie above heading, in Thk CaTHOLTC Wohld
for January, a prudent crilk and not uncandiH
friend of the writer remarked to him: "There i*
a danger thai you wilt create* in sotnc n^inds, a
false and pernicious impreision, if you scatter broadcast the
rcaultj of critical study conuined in that book of Father Ucla-
haye. He accumulates hundrDds of infiUncM of gross errors to
be found in the Lives of (he Saints; and* generally, they arc
not Individual specimens, but types of a numerous ela^s. Now,
when the attention of iiome unrellecling person b I^Acd upon
the aggrfrgate. he may easily come to the conclusion that error
is the rule, not the exception* and that consequently the entire
^Ileciion of Lives ef Shi Saints is untrustworthy." The observa-
tion is sutTicicntly grounded to dictate tome precaution against
Ihe po»sib]c danger. We know how easily we may convey a
false impression of a worthy man by recounting only his weak-
nesses and shoTt-comings, Caricature may be confltructed from
maieriala furnUhed by truth; and there are no more pernicious
falsehoodfi than those that consist of hatf-truthsn
To draw from Father Delahaye's work Piny universal con-
clusion derogatory to the whole body of hflgjoj^rsphical litcra*
ture would be an injustice to him. ind an oilence against logical
rauoniag. It would be on a pur with (he methods of soms
foreigner* who, ignoring all sense of proportion, form their con-
ception of the American pcopEe ffom what they have read of
Southern lynching£» the police annuls of New York and Chicago,
gigantic financial frauds, and divorce court slatlstics. Howevef
UEifparingLy the critic may apply his winnowing fan, the Livn
of the Sainis wlioie authenticity ie above suspicion WJIL remain a
great granary m which liouU will lind !tored^ in bountiful abun*
dance, the wheat of the elect* As long as human nature rc-
VOLp LXkKII.— 41
:mrRCH Aiifi> heb SAmrs.
[Feb,,
niain? what it is, eKumpIe will provr more efficacious iban
verbal precept. And while example continu«£ la pos£c»f the
advanUg« over preactiiiig. Ihc hiaiorica of th« ni^n and women,
of every oonditton in life, who in response to the Masler'a invU
talion have* irt the Mast^r'f (cot&teps, trod the aictn, hard path
with their crotfl upon their shoulders, will nrmain a fniiUDl
source of ni>blest iiigpiration, el^ca<:ious inccntwc, and conqueiing
rorc«. When lh« spurious* the fictitinus, the unworthy, are eli*
minated, by the hands of critic* reverent as Father DeUhaye,
the great body of Christian hagiology will have sutTcred »ica;ccJy
PEiy percepttbte diminution, and no depreciation of value.
Another possible error is to be prevented. Ii would be ft
great mistake to confound the saint with the story; to conclude
that, because the latter will not, in iu entirety, or in Kome of
iu parts* stand the light of crilicism. the credit of the eaini i»
in jeopardy. On thi* point Father DeUhaye, towardj the clo»e
of his work, issues a wurd of warning; " All out woik Icndf (o
demonstrate that the g^ory of the saints 19 too often exposed to
be compromised by the literature relating to It, because Ihc
people, on the one side, or the hagiog raphe r», on the other,
have Sling their praises, not wisely* but too weli. There ia no
direct proporEion between the legitimacy and popuUrlty of the
worship paid to a. saint and the historical value of the writ*
ing9i upon which rhe worship rests. Such and auch ft mariyft
who has received scarcely any religious recognition be^oorl
the narrow walls of the buih'ca consecrated 10 hini, lives lor
us in authenlic records of incomparable beauty; anoihcfr whoM
tomb has attracted armies of pilgrims from all parti of th«
earth, 1» kaown to us only by stories of no better hlitoHcal
ehancter, and much less interesting, than tlie Iftcusatsd and
O/tr ;Vrjf4/j." While he hesitates to £o so far a* to lay it down,
as a general principle, that the authcnliciiy of the docu*
mentary testimony concerning the sainc^s life is in inverse ratio
to ihc popularity of the cult paid to his memory, Faiher DeU-
haye do^s not fear to speak as follows: " Ii is incontestable
that, legend bftvlng been most busy with the more popular
saints, the task of safeguarding historic tradition has been more
dilfteulc in the ease of the most frequented sanctuaries than any-
where else- This is just what we observe regarding the great
goals of pilgrimage- F.xcept in some very apecial cues, we
possess about their origin and their patron only lajidful data.'*
I906.] TlfE CHURCH AND HER SAINTS. 659
Hcnc«, he condudes, it if quite permissible to distrust a legend,
«nd» withal, retain great confidence in the ^alnt ^ thougii, he
cautiously remarks. w« m^y cot go so far as invariably lo ^d.
rait the saint's existence, ao matter whai may be ihc ch&racter
cf the Legend, En fact, he cilcs many cases where the hagio-
graphical story, while wearing the s^mbTHiicc of an authentic
document, refers to a purely imaginary personage.
Another caution may not be quite guperJ^uous. Do not
infer that because a document or a siory. historically viewed,
is deserving of little or no consideration, it ceases to have any
ethical or spiritual value. Historical woith U one thing; re-
ligious and moral worth, another. ll must he remembered,
too, that, as we shall see. many narratJveSf or compositions
thit were cast In the fortn of a narraiivc, were never meant
by their authors to be taken aa historical compositionfi at all.
They were intended, merely, to be a vehicle for moral and
spiritual lessons. In the original writer's mind this purpoKc
was entirely independent of the question whether the relations
had, or had net, a basis in fact. And here the hagiographer
could justify himself by the most auttust of examples. Our
Lord himself conveyed much of his teaching in parables and
fftbles. Who asks whether the scoTy of the prodigal son U ft
real history of a real man of flesh and blood ?
Suppose that some German critic «ho»ld make his bow
with a volumi? of geographiciil, topographical, arclia-ological,
philological, psychological facts, embroidered on a ground of
theory and conjecture, to spdl out the proposition that no
man ever went down from Jerusalem to Jericho to fall among
robbers, and experience inhumanity from the orthodox ard
tender ministration from the heretic — would the supremely
beautiful story* which, for two thousand years, has held up
the ideal of Christian chanty, have [osC one iota ol its power?
Our biblical critics are, now, unanimous in declaring that the
l^reate^t leasons in the inspired writings concerning the prubltm
of evil, are entirely independent of the question* whether or
not Satan, in all actuality, one day stood among^ the sons ol
God, and impudently argued with ih« Almigbiy; or, wheihef
there ever existed ^n Idumean emir, of exceptlotial probity,
whose name was Job.
If our learned professors should, to-morrow, bring con-
vificing evidence that William Tell was a Swede, or ft Dutch-
m, «»d tOvl4 not hit a haystack* or thiit \hctc ircrc no
Coglttik cbefry-uees in the Old Dominion during the eigh-
teenth cvnturyj the stories of our childhood would, nevcnhclet«j
fefluJo elective mdni for the inculcation of patHotiso] and
truthfalacu. To he sure;, there are people whose profound
td^lauy oC VEfaciiy compels them to rcprolwte anything that
misht tend lo footer delusion in ihe child mind. For th«m, to
cACoonge 4 boy to hang up hh Chriatmas stocking is dowo-
rJKhl immorality. They would deliver a lecture on pcr»onaliiy
to a tiltfe ffirl caught talking to her doU^ and Is£u« aji
emended edition of Mother Jlubbaid, in which the old lady'a
dog would be represented as, not dead, but sleeping. Such
vaKaHes may be left to the satirists- Arc they worthy of more
fterioufl conaiderationt who, when their altenticin is called to
the Golden Legend, or the beauties of the FrancUcan Chroe-
iclea, can only ask. with a superior air of disdainful incrcduliiy,
Are these things true? They remind us of the FhilUtine who,
before a scene of Van Dyke, or a landscape of Claude, can only
inquire: Where did this happen? or, Whal is this place called f
Any one endowed, however slendeily. with the spirlitial
lenBC, anc.1 luperior to roliglous prejudice, will agree witli
Father Delahayc, who, regarding the Golden Legend, after ob-
serving that whtJc reading it sometimes one cannot repress t
amlte. aays: *' Hut ihe smile is kindly and sympathetic, ajjd
nowise dliparages the tableau of the saints' heroic acts and
virtue*. In chitt picture the friends of God appear to UG a» all
that la {greatest on earth; they are beings elevated above the
clay and the miseries of humanity; kings and princes respect
them, consult them, vie with the people in kissing their iclkt
And imploring their inlerccseion. They live, even here below,
\tt familiar converse with God: God corpmunicaies lo Chen,
along with hi£ consolations, something of his power; they
employ it only for the benefit of men ; and to them men hare
recourse, in order to be delivered from the ills of body and
sQuL The saints practice all virtues in a superhuman degree;
mercy, forgiveness ol injuries, mortification, renunciation- Titete
virtues they render amiable, and commend to the JmitatiDn of
Christians. Their life, in fact, is a concrete picture of the
evangelic spirit; and because it puts that sublime ideal sen-
albly before ui, legend, like poetry, may Uy claim to ■ higher
d«gr«« ol truth thaii history itsell"
1
I
Both for lliosc who indLscrtminaldy a^sait^ and (or those
who a; iadiscriminat«ly defend, the atilhenticity of al] the
IJves ff/ thf Saints, without distinction, the interest Al £iake,
behind the immediate subject of dTspute, is the question of
whether the miraculous power has continued lo exist in the
Catholic Church. But there la nothing gaified or lost to either
side by such a sifting of Irstimony as our author has carried on.
The dLviEion of parties here, as Cardinal Newman has totd us, i*
bastd on a disagreement concerning first principles; and that
disagreement Is not \o be appreciably atTecied by the elimira-
tion from our hagiotogy of everything that re*TS On insufliCfeDt
evidence.
At the same time, the piety which is satisfied to accept the
literature just as it stands, as a rteord of facts nowise adul-
terated wtlh imaginative elements, Is not to be blamed. If my
uncritical neighbor is fuily convinced that some miraculous story
is true which I believe to be a product of \\ic piff ^redutilas q\
the Middle Ages* I should only display m ilUrcgulated leal if
1 were to And fault with his aJmpEicity^ Nor is there Jiny good
ground for the complflitits that we somcTiines heftr. from with
In as well as from without, that eccUsianlcal authority ought
to revise and expurgate ^11 our hAgiotogical literature, and
thereby do something towards taking away the reproach leveled
At US, of being ignorant and lupcrstitioualy credulous, Thil
contention, too, Newman has adi-nirably uniswered. H« reminded
lus English audience that the nation paid civil honor lo marty
Uiiorical relic«j without being convinced that ihete iel[cb were
genuine^ the world pay» civil honor to them on the probabil-
ity; we pay religious honor lo relics, if so be. on the iirobA*
bllity> As to the Livfs of tkt Saints, *"we think them true tn
the same sense in which rrotcitanis think ihe history of Kng-
land true, When they gay (hat, ibcy do not mi-Jin to tay there
ire no mistalceB, but no ini»talce» of consequence* none which
liter the genera] course of history, Not do they in**n they
are equally sure of every part; for evidence is fuller and bet-
ter for some thlnifn than for other*. They do not stake ihoir
credit on Ihe truth c( Froi»att or Sully, they do not pledge
themselvcft for the accuracy of Doddington or Walpok, they
do not embrace a» an evangcliti Hume, Sharon Turner, or
66x
The CHUiiCii a^d Her Sa/uts,
[Feb..
MacauUy/' Nor, he coptinuc*, do ihey commence a rvUgiov*
war against all historical and other cducatLcnal hooks, bccfluxe
not everything in them j» absolutely certain. Where, indeed,
he concludes, miraculous and other narratives are certainly
proved to be faliic, '* there wc ahaU be bound to get rid ol
them; but till that i^ clear, we shall be liberal enough to allow
ethers to use their private judgment In iheir favor, as we u«c
OUTS in their disparagement.'^
But, it may be askerf, *hy, then, Ho Catholic critics tmiy
themselves in the work of demoJitLon and exposure ? And why
help to scatter abroad the fruil£ of their singular aaivity?
The answer is easy, llpcausc it does not depend upon CMho-
lic scholars to say whether such information shall, or shall not,
be made the property of the many. Critics innumerable, learned,
keen, rclentLese, are exploring every nook and cranny of the
past. They are scrutinizing every scrap of paper, every foin,
every fragnncnt of wood or stone or metal bearing an inielli*
gible sign, that ha& come down Irom the pait, In (eatch of the
flighlest scintilla oi H^ht on ihe histoiy of Catholicism- The
results of therr labors are given to the world, and. from the
level of the scientific magazine, percolate into eveiy stratuit) cf
pripular literalurc. These r^stilfs, which are fre^juently incom*
patible with the contents of our devotion^ and hbtorJcal booht.
are becoming known, sometimes in prflcise detail^ more fre>
quently and more eKtensivcly, in a vague, fihadowy fai^hion, to
incrensing numbers of our people. Often — we have <{uotcd aji
instance from Mr White — facts are set forth and, gratoi'
tously, alleged to be In conflict with pronouncemenia of the
highest Church authority by pc^rsons unqualified to defiae the
circumacrLptions of the infallible prerogative. The Catholic
Church, foraooth T i^ sponsor for every local tradition, for every
statement in books cf devotion, for all the legends thai circle
around places of pilgrimage, for every invention of a pious
imagination that may once have attained some voguel Here
is reason suF^cient to warrant the publicatiort o( the work of
our own critics, and thereby to answer the calumny that Catholi-
cism cannot face the light of modern research.
This need becomes more Lmperative from the fftCt thai voine
who would not, for worlds, willingly co-operate with th« op-
ponents of CathoLlcitm In shaking the faitb of the Uity, umn-
tentionalEy do play into their hands^ They, as lar ai it it {a
The CmritcH and Hee Sats'ts.
»■
K
their power to do bo, rashly plc^dge the Church's authority for
beliefs thai arc clothed with no such dignity. They declare
ihat this or that claim of a rclk or a placcp or tome belici, or
alleged lact, has been confirmed by the Pope^ or H taught by
atl iheologianK. an^J, therefore, fie fide. If the cousequences
of such rashness were confined to bringing down hucniliation
on the head of some zealous controversiatist, who&c aimpte
trust in antifjuated books has delivered him into the hands of
his foe. the cviL would be bad enough- But this injudicious,
exaggerated conservatism helps lo brirg down upon CalholU
dim itself, a* St, Thomas warned his generation, the scoffs of
the unbeliever; U somEtlmes does worse — it shakes the failh
of Catholics.
A cursory glance at the history of apologetics lor the past
century — not to go back to the initial disHsler — ia enough lo
ffemind us eloquently of the unmeasured obloquy that may be
involved upon ecclesiastical authority by confidinE too icnplic*
itly in the infaliibiltty of the inferential faculty of a mere
theologian oi ecripturist- Ourschotare have become more cau-
tious ; but the old tendency still rdtnains in quarters where
there is no au&picion of the progress that has been made by
historical criticism- Certainly some, aad probably many. Catho-
lics are outside the Church to-day, who took the firsi step to
unbelief when some religious guide, making his own convic-
tions the rule of faith, insksCed that some purely optional be-
lief could not be rejected without disobeditnce to the supreme
■ulhority. In his recently published book, a notice of which
is found in the review pages of this maj^azjne, Eishop Hcdiey
gives some excellent and timely advice on this subject
Finally, even if the above motives of expediency did not
let, there is an intrinsic reaeon in Father Uelahayc's work
itiell that suflices to jusiiiy any effort IhnI may be made to
obtain the widest circulation for its contents. The learned
BoUandist's labcrs enhance the value of the Liva of the Saints,
by separating ihc genuine from the false; by atithort^in^ ua
to distinguish the inspiring records of the wonders that the
Holy Spirit ha£ wrought in frail, sinful hunisnitX' ''c*" ^^^
mfiro vaporings of the popular imagination, or the tnnipid in-
ventions of some tasteless scribe.
The CmracH akd her SainjS^^ [FeK,
in.
The introductory chapter of Lts Ltgendfs Haghgrapkiquti
conttin* a clear and instructive defrniiion nf legend, and some
eognBle notiors that, for th« Eak« of prcdfio:i> arc to be dU-
tiD2uI*hcd from Itn A pkce of hagiography may be histor}',
or it miLjr not It may assume any literary form, from the
ofticitl relaCLon adapted lo the use of the faithful to the mott
ckuberant and im&^inilive poetry. The dislinctivcly h^glologi*
C4I churActer is present whtn the documenl has a rengioua
cut and «]ma at edificatLDn, Among the non-historical eLe-
menti of oarrativc are romanccB, stories (contes). myths, and
i^l^end, The legend hi^s always some historical or topographi-
cal buii. It refers rmai^inary facts to real per5c<ns; and i|
Ifivea a real background or setting to creations of fancy. Ha-
glof>rHphi4jat literature is prodi;ced by two dietinct agencieb,
that co-operate with each other, and are ever to be found
when we trace any literary current to its aourcesn "There \% |
that anoitymoua creator, called the people, or^ putting the
effect for tho cause, the kgend. It operates as a mysterious,
collective power, unshackled in its methods, rapid and disor-
derly as the imagination, incessantly tn travail with novelties,
which it is incapable of fiicina by writing. '" Besides this pro.
ductive force there is the writer who, one must judge, is con-
damned to \ painful task. He is obliged to follow 4 «v«y thai
li traced out for him. and yet his work must carry the stamp
of reflection, and wear an air of durability. These two factor*
have been in opoiallon in the Liv€5 of th$ SainU ; their re*
spective contributions to the whole is to be determined by a
»tudy of e«ch.
Setting cut to estimate the fecundity of the legectd-pro-
ducing instinct. Father Delohaye fust draws attcntitn to thv
various infTuences that conspire to modify, distort, exnggerate
a story thai depends upon era] testimony-— the itrepiessible
tendency to confound inferences wilh facts to tuppJy defects
in < story that we have heard, to omit e^scntiaJ features, and
gratuitously to add to what has been related. The»e source*
of error are multiplied a hundredfold, vhca successive natra-
tor« haod the story from one to the other; ksA coafusioa be-
cocnea intensified when the atory paste* into the possession of
the public During the Middle Ages eh'erybody was iritcrcsiTd
1906]
TitE Church and ner
66s
In the sainCa, loved to hear of them, invoked them* and uncrlti-
caliy acc«ptc4l anything thai redounded lo iheir glory, Undtr
the abuvc tnHutnces any original story «eiil on growing, ab-
forbiog extraneous amplilications* and recelviftg fr»h embel
Jlahmenls from the pious imagination* Faihef Delahaye illus-
trates copiougly (he woikings o| each of ihe above tencleiic[es.
He dwcUs particularly on the irrepressible impulse* common
to aJI peoples, to afifiign to >*jme favorite hero, or celebrity,
marvelous iriiit& and pcriormancts rbat previously belonged to
some other personage whoac name they have lorgoltcn, or have
never known. In this procedure, the popular mind ifi not em-
barrassed by any chronoiogical or geagraphical ideaB. Thus,
says Father Delahayc, we may account ioT many of ihe won-
ders ascribed to national sdnta, like £,t. Patrick of Ireland and
St. Martin of Tours, Similarly the people have created types
for the persecutor, the manyf. the missionary, and the mira-
ck-worker. Why \s there such a iiii>notonous rctcmbLancc be-
tween £0 many biographies of saints P '* Because/' replies Fa-
ther Dctahaye, *^ the writer, faithful echo of the popular ttadi>
tional coDceptionG, simply enumerates, for each individualj the
qualiltes that the people had come to condder pioper to each
kind of saint/* He quotes as typical, the lengthy descripLiona
of St£. Aldegondc and Fursy, which read like s>£t<tratic cata-
logties o( abstract virluesi and he adds, that a few character-
titic facte iti which these beautiful virtues wprc dikpfaycd would
nake a niuch rriore profound impression than docs this lifeless
•chema-
The presence of this same inHuencc is betrayed by the fte-
ipicacy with which we find the same occurrence or mfttvcl re-
lated of j^everal individuals; and, not unfrcquently, the trait
h«a previouily hjid a career in profane history. Fur JHSiaiiee,
not alone that patron of huntsmen, the good St^ Hubert, but
Sc< EuitAchiu«, and a goodly numbef of other samis, saw a
mtraculous crucifix between the home of a &(ag. A long list
foight be compiled c,\ the mints who share with St, George
the diilinction of having overcome a dragon^ The eagle, called
by Solomon to watch over the body of David, has served as
the protot>'pe of doEcna of birds that have^ onr way or an-
othe-', protected servants of God. A romantic epUodc related
in ehv life of St- RliiLabeth of Hungary had, long beforej
adortied a profane romance, and, still earlier, figured in the
I
I
t
THE CNt/RCH AND MEft SAINTS.
TkfiusaMd ^nd Ottt Ni^ku, asd \tt many an TDdtan tft]«. Tbc
dnutatic adrcmur« of ;h« page of Sl Eliiabctb of Portugal
is, llkewUe, aa adapUlion frooi Ii^dJan Lilcrilure^ Tbe history
of St. Fnacis X4vi«r's crvctlijr. which, wbrn it bad bc«a ktst
j» th^ *«^ W4f recovered and restored to it* owner hy^ cnb^
U, says Father Delahaye, borroved Uom Japanese iayth<rf(^y.'
There is, he tellf tt«, no more trite theme in hagiology than
that of tbe infrsculoBS image whtch rcaiches iu de3tinatk>n in a
d«rdkt ship or boi4t ; nothing more ordinary tba» tbc prodigy
of a vcsfcl *hicb *xo^^. or oxen that refuse to advance, io
defigoAte the locatica of some hidden celestial treasure, or t«
assure to some church the legitimate poi£es£ioii of a saiot*!
relics^ It Iras thus thai Si- James reached Spain, and Sl Lu-
beniiai came to Dietkirchen. In the same manner the girdle
of tbc Btevfcd Vkgin arrived at Praio ; a&d ibe Hoty Face at
Lucca. Such tmnsporlalions of crucifixes, madont^as, statties,
4r« particularly numerous in Sicily; ihooigb, thinks Father DeU-
baye, if inquiry were made, other countries might furnish equally
abundant results- "We should never finish," he writes, after
aCGumuUtlnif a long Ijst of various lypkal ejismplvs, "if vc
were to draw up a catalogue of the commocplacesof bagiology.
It has been already shown, by numcrouH exaoiples, that some
of thcTn f^fi back to a remote antiquity. A large number of
the legendary vit?ri/s scattered through ihe Livis of th4 Saintt,
and the kiaioHes of various famous sanctuaries and miracuLouv
Images, arc to be found in the classics." "So, too, is the Ict-
Ur or the picture that comes down from heaven. The swanu
of bees that settled on the t^radle of St. Ambrote, and vi6i:td
St. Isidore aho. had already deposited its honey in the moutfa
of Pindar and of Plato"; the prodigy of the rock which opened
to save Sts. Thecla and Ariadne from ouliagc is an echo «|
the (able of Daphne; and the story of St, Barbe recalls DanapE
Imprisoned by her father in a tower of brass.
Passing over several other distinct groups of legendary bor-
rowings, we may cite a few of the more iniercsung cases which
Father Dalahayc otiers to show the predominance of tbe sense
perceptions over intellect in the lege Jid- making mind of ibe
multitude: "In this respect the crowd does not rise above ihc
^\T.^\%Ltfi tfSl. Fnmii Xi^'4tf, \HiWi-f. rmltrr CvltrU^^fTi ibcriefjh Buc ce
lhi-«iii:i<inry uf ilii' A'^afVi*. Ieoiu (Jjc Piovmtfi, T*i Li/t n'J LitlVT if ST. Jtmvu Jfatttr.
JSy lUitiyJumi' CaWri&ge^ S,J. LDndofi. iWi, Ve>L. 1. t'. JifJ-
1906.]
The CHukai AND Hex SAmrs,
intcllectuai level of the child, who, Indifferent to abstractions,
turns inaCincliVfl]^ ti' everything lliat forcibly strikes the serifie^;
■n their ideaj anJ souvenirs are indissolubiy bounfl to thirtga
mtEerial and palpable." Hence it ia that great men live less
in the minds of the people than in the rocks, the elonea^ and
the buildings which the people are pleaded to connect with the
illustrious. The names of the Eaints are often associated with
>uch fnonuments or remarkable pomif ae strike the imaginatjon of
the crowd. At Rome it was quite natural that the Mamerlimc
prison ^ould be designated as the place in which 5t. feter
was imprisoned^ that there should be no dlfUculty in ideattJy-
ing the precise spot on which Simon Magus fell; StUs hH
ifcidit Simon Magus. It is not astonishing ihsX so many places
lay claim to a close connection, in Ireland with St. Patrkk, at
Naples with St. Januarius, in Touraine with 5t Martin*
Popular imagination has been busy, not alone with natural
Btones and edifices, but also with all sorts of structures and
works of art. ArtiJicia] monuments have been ulilixed, on a
Itrgie aeale, by the legend ^creating faculty. Images of the
silnts, produced in one age, have provided, In the next, marvel'
(lus sloric5, a? the widsly-spread type d a martyr's picture
representing him with a head under his arm, gave rise to the
notion that he had walked aher he wa5 beheaded. One particular
infitance must sunice. to the museum of Marseilles there eAists
ftn inscription that had been placed over a certain abbess, con-
taining nothing more than the usual tombstone euiogiiJiii: She
VM a servAnt of God, etc, Bui her body had been deposited
In an ancient sarcophagus, on which the bust ol a bcardlesis
mau hid been chiselled- Time mutilated the nose of this
sculpture* This was enou]^h lo give ri^c to the local legend
that Eusebia, an abbess in u convent at Marsdllcs, and her
forty companions, cut off their noses to escape the fury of the
Saracen«. "A tradition which/' wrote a learned Hollandtst, "is
conArmed by the f^ffigy, with the nose cut offn together with an
IfUCriptioD on the tomb of the generotis heroine."
Names badly understood have given rise to many legends
and, In some cases, erected famous churches. The Church of
Sts- Nereus and Achilles, on the Appian Way, formerly bore
the name of Ti:uiui de Fauiola, What did FascioU mefln^
Learned men were nnd are divided and puailed. Not so the
people. Faselola ts another souvenir of St. Peter- A story
66B T/fE CJ^t//rc/f AND HER Sa/ntV^^ {V^Ai.^
ar^sc, which wfts aftentfarda fixed In writing, that, on ibts £pot,
Sc P«lcr, while he was sufTcring from having^ had his leg hurt
by his iron fetters, dropped cne ft\ his bandages. " H«r« in-
deed," reflects Father Delahaye, "is Ihe naivelf of the people,
that imagines a great man coujd noc drop his kerchief without
the exact spot being iinniediatdy marked, aod retained Jn mem-
ory, in order that the fact might be celebrated by a [noDumeutt"
Sounds, agiin, have made Ihe fenune of several «aint^. thanks
to the popular propensity of Ending sonic significance U a
name. For instance, Si- Claire is widely invokcJ in France to
cure malaJies of the eyes; for, does not her name (claire??
clear) signify good eyesight? Liktiwise Germany and France
have their saints, who live up to theJr names by curing, respec-
tively, Boro eyes, deafness, and boiJs- There is a long list of
such plays upon words, not all of which are creations of the
populace. "'Thcie is one," says Fathet Dclahaye, *' of relatit^ely
recent date, which has obtained a surprising and regrettable
success. Sl Expedit, ihanki to hia name, has become the
patron of business that demands to be expedited."
We cannot, for want of space, adduce enamples of all tlte
other groups of instances offered by ^^athcr Dtlahaye to illuv*
trate how the predominance of the senses over the intellect in
the crowd breeds in it an maaiiable thirst for the marvelous.
** The thought of the invisible governmtnt of the universe by
Divine Providence is not enough for it; the inner workings of
grace present norhirg tangible to it; and to make any imprev-
aion on iC5 mind the mygicrious rom muni cations of the soul
with God must be translated Into palpable results. The supsr*
natural does not count with it, until confounded with th«
marvelous. In consetiuence, how does the wonderful overflow
in popular legend! Visions, prophecies, miracJcB arc an ip>
dispensable part in the life of a saint" — and our author pro-
ceeds to lill some pages with intereMin^ exacnples, showing how
(he story of the saint must be saturated with the miraculous.
" He is announced before his btrth, and hif ciadlc is surrounded
with visible slgna of heaven's protection. Angels watch over hii
9t«?ps; nature obeys him; the most savage animaU recognlae
his power. In danger he can count upon the forces of heaven.
Nay, God seems to lend himself to the capHce* of his Inends,
and multiply prodigies without any apparent reason."
The popular imagination, in its thirst for the miraculous,
1
1906]
^t^THV^OtAi^If HEU £f/^TS.
and anxious to outdo marvelous storiefi by others £tiU mor«
wonderful, has run to the extravagant and the biKAFie. For
instance, the miraculous arrival of relics on an abandoned ves-
Ml becomes flat, and is replaced by aecounU of floailng sar-
cophagi. St. Fursy has spoken before his birth, so St. leiac
Bp«a]cs three rimes in the one day; and the prodigy fcarrely
aurpaaaes that o( St. RumwoJd, who lived only three daye after
birth, yet pronounced, in a fashion to be understood of al]>
hh profession of faith, and a long- exhortation addrcss'cd to
hie relativee.
It U not astijnishing, then, that every faint h ornamented
with aTl the virluca; and that, at a period when merit was
greatly enhanced it united with illuatrioua birth, the multitude
did not hesitate to rank its si'iat among^ the ariatocracy. But
even noble birth was 1«5 valued than the honor of having
aome connection with those who belonged to the company of
the Lord. Hence arose, says Father Deiahaye, in France
the^e Legends which have conferred on some dioceses the
honor of having been founded, or otherwise favored, by some
apostolic personage. "The legenda which referred to Christ
or to St, Fetcr^ the missicin of the first bishopa of the great
dioceses, were not, we can understand, inspired solely by a
disinteresied love of the sftjnt. The passion for noble origina
which would trace the RomanSj and afterwards the Franks,
back to the heroes of the //iW, discovered thi* new way of
Uraiifying itself^ and, the movement once started^ the churches
vied with each other ia pretending to the honor of apostolic
foundation."
Thus far Father Delahayc has been following the activitica
of the creative faculty of the crowd, or the people. Usually
he has, nevertheless, had recourse to written records, that
testify to the existence of the popular traditions. But he re-
minds us that he has conaulted only tho£c that arc merely the
echo of the popular vr^ice. Afterwards he invebtiguies the
methods of the hagiog rap hers, lo estimate the extent of their
contribiition to the sum-total
HIKED WEDDING GARMENTS.
'^OVE rules ihc court, the camp^ the grove; or «i
says a minstrel whose harp notes, less grand
perhaps than ihoac oi Tara, have yet a pretty,
old-fashioned melody of theif own, And, pov<
^J^ eiWy, this wide-reaching sovereignty may have
heljicil iWficn ihc atmosphere of No, 91 Eidge Street for the
ffljitidious Norman Keith — pacing the filthy pavements for a«
thorc a tpace either way as would permit him to turn. Som«
w»rui«ii even then was necessary to avoid aiepping on vait-
nua mud*enerui4tcd children who wandered between the doof.
it«p> of Mh Schneider, "Ladles' Tailor," and the gutter; or
beln^f JoNiled by ^altow women passing with shawU over theif
fa«ada, or unclean. lorcigu-Iooking men in long beards and
GoaN and ihabby, tall hats^
He hnd been waiting now nearly an hour for the re-appear-
Anoa of hit wife— upstairs with M. Scihneider; and had been
(ruitraied In «n atlcmpC to seclude himself from embairasfing
public atlenlion in a lower room, found out to be full to reek-
ing of ToMih and Hungarian workmen, the «tevn from ironing
woolen, an^ the racket of lewiug ina<:bines. With the pare*
mvpl hik only alternative, the average man can understand ibe
gloomy dJAgufit with which he surveyed the variegated, dingy
bsddjrig» hunf out on firv escapes; the malodofoua ba&d*
carti. around which collected noisy, chaffering groups; tbe pite«
of refute; th« dirty ahup-wiridows^ with si^ua in nsfviitiiiar
K*brew cbaracterL
"Ah, dcreT UUter DudeT" laid a grimy urchin, purposely
running against hitn: and atrong words rose to his lips. But
juat then a tall young lady, brown -eyed and ro«y-ch«eltcd»
came ({uiclcly down the 3tep>« She smiled, and be Hraigbtway
brightened: for they had been married but a few OMMiihe^ asd
it was itn undemonstrative b^ltci ol his tlut the suo, Bioonw
tad Stars shone in her smiles
"Here, tilce my arm. We must force a way throngb thii
nob. What a beastly place! Even to hang on to tbe plat-
r9o6.]
HIRED XVEDDfP^G GAffMENtS.'
form of a GmiLd Street car wUI be bliss adcr this. For hcRven^a
Mkc> I:9abd, is thcr« no dre^smalccr uptown* tha.t you com« to
thi« man in such a quarter ? How did you ever hear of
him?"
"Oh, it was Mrs. Hatton found him from somcihing she
saw in the piper; and lo&E her way the l^rst timej but hafi
aU her dresses made there now. My dear, his price is absuidly
low. and such a beautiful hx."
" It would give m< a beautiful 6l, I know, lo attend bis
proceedings again. As it is a. La.ilor. however, you will all llnd
his gowns * heiter^fashioned, raoie quaint, more pleasing, mcic
commendable' than some industrious woman's work. What a
crowd in that little den when we went up — and a surly brute
he loolts/'
"Ht is i little rough,'* Isabel admitted ; "twists and twirls
you about like a dummy, when he is mea&uring."
" He dodsT" — lightning gathering.
*' I wish you would not scowl like that. With glaasea it
makes you rascrable Emin Bey i and you know, dearest — like
Ben Bolt's sweet Alice — I tremble with fear at your frown."
Her laughing coquetry djd not wholly dissipate the cloud.
"Oh, see here," she said, pre^dng hi& arm a little closer^
"is it nuT delightfuNy ridiculous?'' In a small shop window,
near Grand Street, was an inscription: *' Wedding Outfits to
Hire-" A draggled white satin gown hung side by side with
a rusty dress coat; and on a cushion in front Jay a pair of
toiled white slippers, and a crushed and tawdry orange flower
wfcalbp
"'To Hire'r* Isabel repeated, with her pretty low laugh.
'' Tmaginc hiring one's wedding suit, and returning it next
day.-
"It u droll," he assented, peering at the things, and for-
getling his irritation.
Just then their car came along, and ihey made a little rush
for it and succeeded id gettiug on* Itut, by ill-chan<^e, bhc
was squceted into a eorni^r in a decidedly rough-looking crowd
of passengers; and he. near the door, could sec biEt the top
of her little toque, and stood next a man whose breath waa
rielently sugge«itve oi the cup which cheers and also inebri-
ates-
So has grievance had a chance lo reassert itself; and
wbeiir at the end of a lengthy lide, they were walking th<
shoft distance io their aparlmenl, he «ftld, a trifle pcrcnip-^
torily: "Noi^, Isabel, I hope this is the U^t trip Co that del
1 cannot spare another afternoon to go with you, and
couffic you cannot go without ^scorf. But, a* you have beeOj
there twice to be measured, he can send you home the gown-
now, and if he doesn't — you are not quite a Flora McFlim^y."
"How do yGt» know that?*' saucily. "Supposing that v^
'weddbg ouilic W35 hired/ and I am tr^'ine to accuoulfete
few gow(|3, gcadually,"
"Try to accumulate a Few ideas, instead," he replied, witi
impertinence, .And havEng, with latch-key, let themselvea In-
^de the friendly shelter of their door, he stooped to kis« ber:
fay way of stimulus. I
It was high lime they shouM hasten to dress and dine, it
It waft their evening for receiving a few friends, men ttbo
came to them every Thursday, a select rieiachmenl (rom Nor-
mifi Keith'a bachelor club, "The Night-bJooming Cereua." |
The rules of the club forced him to resign, on marriage.
*' But 1 don't mean to give you dil up," he declared, *' and
Adams, you and Clay, and some ol the others, must come to
roy rooms once a week." |
■■ I dun't know," demurred Adams, a journatistT who thought
women a bore and a check to raiional conver^aiian ; and who^e
altraciLon at the " Cereus," besides its choice spirits io both
senaesj was that they had eio " Ladies' Day.'' ■
** How wouEd Mrs. Keith like the noise of all of us talking
at oncCf and spoiling her wedding presents with tobacco
smoke ? ■' I
"Mrs. Keith," placidly, "does not smoke herself, but con
endure it in others; and she likes to talk and to liftcit, and 1
want her to hear you, so come/' I
And the very tirsl Thursday, when the name of Ihcir tittle
party was under discussion, Isabel suggested that it was at
least the handle of a club, *' Why not," said she, *' call our-
selves "The Chafing Dish Club'? — figuratively— we need not
rub each other the wrong way, but I can make it appropriate
otherwise, if you will all help me to cook ^ A>r our horny-
handed slavey retires early; and I have invested in a delightf
ful chafing dish, and a little book with fift^ recipes for it."
''Il has— 1 suppose it has — the best OftO for A WcJih ni
\
1906.]
NrnED WEDDlffC Cahmujvts,
t^tF" aifkcd Adams with interest, drawiDg nrAtct. '* Do you
ttt\% yourv with a little ale?"
"Oh. with al«» certainly/' aaid laabd; and ihey plunged
into a ctilinary ^iscussioti; from which mamcnt His heart dovt
to her And now, a gay Ultlc lupjicr, with mnry cook* who
did not spoil the broth, was an underMcod cndir^ Jo iofortnal
talkii 4nd occasional munc. The journaHst having been to z
"first night," did not tnake his dppeaiancc on this occasion
until the alcohol lamp wa« already Lt^hted.
"T sniiTcd the omciette from afar, and sdd * Ha, ht ! "*
he declared, entering; "It is'aux fines heibes' and haa ■ sub-
pielon of ham in it. But why should we work so conscien-
tiously through Ihe 'Fifty Recipes/ Mr^t. Keith? Thit last
kidney »tcw ' au Mad^re ' was ju£t perfection/'
'* We man not repeat ourselves/' Isabel jironounccd, inex-
orably, "until we have tried each of the 'Fifty' in lum/"
Site had tied an a|>ron over her gray and siivEr, and tucked
op her sleeves daintily.
"Oh, come, come!" cried Clay, with frnpatlcncc, "*the
play's the thing F * Restrain your greediness for awhile, Adamfli
and tell us about it,"
"Fairly good; some effective siEtiations; Miss Dean does
very well; but a trite plot, which always vexei me- Voung
coupte posfelonateEy attach rd ; sQBie trifle light as air' — cnoU
ness — suspicion — csirangemenC — outsider's tneddling — «id agen*-
era] wronghcadednesa and careful avoidance of laying or doing
the obvious thing, which makes you long to shake them all.
True to life, perhaps — I'm & bachelor, myself — but seems im-
possible — with sanity/'
"Vou count too assuredly/' said Clay, "on an invariable
iK^iu -tam> in ircrpitrt sana : and don't allow for indisposition,
mood, circumstances, and the tbotisand and one gust> which
whip humanity about/'
"1 do," %md Adams obstinately; ** but 1 caM it all wrongs
hcAdedne»- If I have the wit — or, what it laket— to acquire
\ trQAAure, I might have th« a«n»e to keep It Murchi»on, you
\iuy animal, stop sketching Mte. Kchh as 'la belle chocola-
tt^re! ' and get up and hand the cnp> around"
The boy ish> looking ariiit laoghed and blushed. Hi* admi-
ration of Mrs. Keilh'i poses wax an open flecret.
"Speaking of marriage/' said her husband — "take care, II
674
Hired Wedding Garments.
(Feb,
bcl, IhAt't hot— Mr9- Keith and I saw ^omFihirg odd tc>d>y."
Hfl dcicribod the "Wedding OnlfiJ " window^ "Suggestive
idea, it it not? A humble coupie returning the festal garb^
donnvd for a day only— and ffoing bacb to paicfaed and dingy
attire. Speaking broadly, and a» in uniegenetnte bachdor
daySi I ihink the analogy mi^bt be pursued."
"Just 90," said Adams. '*a wedding outfit couitts tarcly
of other matters than ' rutTs and culTs and farthingales an4
things.' A man can hardly remodel hiirmetf, tbcugh it would
be a good job somelimes; but he generally hfts a reserve fund
of strength and gentleness a^d humility, which he w9uM do
well to bring out for permanent use ibcn. Among other un-
considered things arc f^ith, ho^je, and charity; and the great-
cat of these 10 chanty- What are you smiling at, Mrs- Keitb ? "
"Was I smiling^ You have not mentioned a woman's out-
fit, Mr- Adains."
*'WeIl, the things ^hich most worthily charmed him should
be her lasting property, and not hired for the occasion- Seauty
may fade; but grace and brightness and swfelnets n««d out;
not even such homdy gifts as good s«n^e and good temper/*
" Did you write ' How to be Happy though Married,' Ad>
ams ? " CEay a«ked languidly-
""Good sense and good temper,'*' echoed Norman Keith;
"yes, thr^fc are excellent gifts for both, and» if I should add a
^ualiltcalJon, it would be good fellowship. What sage ua^ it
said to choose as mate ihe man or woman who as friend would
ba an unending pleasure P How can the wedding oE a pictty toy
or mere housewife compare with the pure delight of harmony
in tastes, and bright, responsive good.comrade$hip ? '"
Hifl wife, under screen of the chocolate- pot, gave bisi a
awlft, lovely amile — which Adams divincd-
" Lucky dog I " he thought, but said aloud: ** 1 *hall begin
fitting myself at once — with unsrlfishnesE— fcr a wedding which
might possibly take place in a better world, only there ia no
marrying there. Which mean^^^gt^od- night, Mrft. Keith, ainca
it i* one o'clock/'
Uabel would hardly have asked her husband !n atiy case
to give up a third whole afternoon from his work, impatiently
to tramp Ridgc Street al M, Schneider's pleasure. Though all
wlt]:i them had been smooth sailing over a aummer sea, she
had an instinct that that ^ay bre^kcis lay. For Norman acfl-
1J06,] Hired Wedding Garmeivts, 6^5
OU&ly disappr^^vcd of bcr penetrating slrange and noiEoDic re-
gions in pursuit of a bargain; or becatise olh^t women did;
and her own dignity told her that he uas fight
M. Schneider, unkiioMrn ^ yet lo fame, was aulocra.uc as
M- Worth, and brusque lo rudeness, "They come to tnt," he
said^ shrugging hi^ shoulders, in allusion to Aristocratic \s\t
ones who thronged hU dose tilde tilting- room, and cajoled
him !or an early day,
*'You will L'ume to-morrow/' he would say curtly, to one.
" 1 cajinot fit you until next week; very well, Madame, In half
an-hour the waist will be ready to try; eh* you have beea
waiting five hours already and no lunch? Well, there is a
restaurant on the street." And sometimes the cloth would be
mislaid and the customer's caU wasted. This happened to Isa-
bel, the afternoon succeeding the '* Chafing Diah*' night; tblicri
the disgustfully picked her way. alone, through the quarter to
his houfic.
"It is sumewher?/' he said indifferently, after an hour's
search by an assistant, "To-morrow Is our Sabbaths You will
not come Sunday, We may find it before Monday, You can
come then in the afternoon''; Bnd while he 5poke he fitled a
young lady's cloih jacket.
'*The collar is too tight," the patient complained.
"Not at ail," he said, pushing aside the frir?womanj and
forcibly bringing the ends of the collar together.
" Oh, oh ! " cried the girl. " I am suffocating 1 "
Isabel Hushed, too, noting his »ligh[ smile j but on the
pavement she forgot her indignation on finding how late it
was. She missed a car, and it took the next one all of iin
hour to carry her uptown; and by that time the $1ars were
twinkling away nerrily averhead-
*' Norman will be anxious." the thought, and felt a twinge
of conscience when she saw his figure waiting at their corner.
"Lovely evenTug," she remarked with iweet serenity.
"Isn't it a little laic?" ignoring her compliment to the
weather. "Would it not be better to finish your ^hoppiug
earlier?"
"It might." then, disliking the misleading implication, "but
I was not shopping, 1 wae at M. Schneider's/*
"Isabel! ulone and so late- When I particularly asked you
not to fo there again I "
:
t^
HiJtBP WBDifJ.WG OAJtAf£ATS,
lF«b..
"Bui. dear^^l. I do aot particularly ask ^u col to go ariy-
whvre ; t Xtnti your juclgin«n;, as you might mine.''
Tbist tniiccd, bai3 been ihe basb of ibcir intercourEc; and
thv tbougfht gAve hioi paatc. But impulse was too atroug, and
h« inswercd boily : "You know perfectly wdl (bat iht same
ra'v docs not ^ppJy in all oiatiers to a man and a woman.
It U very unsafe (ot a [ady to be wandering at all hour», in
thoae fctrAii|£e streets. As a minor conxldc ration, I will add
thai ] codiider it rxtreiacly bxl form in my wifE,"
"Will you believe," she said softly, "that even before I
marned you, I occuiooally act people who were good form?''
a»d ran Usl^^^X P*^* ^^^ through the doorway.
The subject vba not again n>cnlioned until next ttiornjng,
whvii kaving for the office, he taid quietly: *' Isabel, let M,
Scbueider irnd home the govn or not as he chooser. 1 will
tflv* you arvothcT. Bat do ttoe go to Rrdgc Street any more/'
Ai laU ai Biotylar nooo »be wavered, and then woman-
Hka vade up her mind in as inaianl. '*WhatI throw away a
l^wri — and that handsome broadcloth — or have ic ill^fitTEngl
ll would ba sht^r folly. I *iil go early and be borne before
HoriMAn cooiea."
Hut U tbvi^ nxatteff, woman proposes, and M- St^hneidet
iU«^io#t4- He had fotuid the eloth, but was not ready to try
{\ OA ioiiuoJiatt^y L and ibeo there were several slight altcra-
%i9tu X<^ b« wade," Cor which, with a shrugs "he would tiof b«
l-MUWaibto. «ntva« Madame vould wait-"
A«d MaikMke waited vah a viable impatience, which raadt
b«f a Urtftl for tbe curious vytt ot nihcr aUendant clients;
Mid the u^oi w«* ibat tbe was later than the last time, and
ftiutt*]^ a*> *>*^ expcctiug b«r on their corner, "He Is vexed,"
auwl hff heait ftuttecvd a little perhaps.
U Ih* weanwhjle Nonnan Keith had reached home to find,
tl M^K ^^*^f pntty rooBs cheery with tamp and fire-light:
^^ \K* tttn Uarv Ann, in cap and apron, to wait on him.
1^\ ^M^« evvnt of tba evewnji." as he sometimes e»lled ber,
^^ V4tuf witb ctoar <y«e and welcoming smile to greet him,
«4a ulMin^t *»J he prcMBtty K^ew restless.
'^sUrtt'* Mid tbe obMrvutt Mar>' Ann, "the mistress will
b« iu *v^<* S*» *^^ **'" *** B***"* "'^ ^^^^ ^****" Grand
"- t a slifhi hardnesa settled about bis
h
d
^
I
p.
Hired XVeddfng Garmet^ts.
mouib. He went down the front steps again, rtflcdirg bit-
terly: "My wishes, evidently, have small weight"
He walked round ihe block, and one or two ta:5 paEsed
wjtliout her; and then he saw her aJighting from another. It
was a boyish thought to come Co a lawyer of eight years
landing, but he had nursed his wrath until it wa« quite warm;
and hf suddenly titrnE^d up the collar of his coaf^ pulled The
loft hat he had picked up over hia eyes, and stationed hlm-
aekf jusL round the corner, where the Metropolitan gaS'light
was a mere mockery- *' ' My lady comes at lael,"* he muiteredi
In ironic quotation, "* timid and stepping fast."*
She was now abreast of him and, with a feigned awagger»
e lurched out, brushed roughly against her, jerked from her
hand the pocket-book which, feminine-wi^rc^ she carried so* and
disappeared.
Oh!*' ahe cried; bul the street was dark, the robber was
ut of sight, the houses closed to appeal. " H Nnrman knew/'
The thought gave her wings. "Let It go, I must never lell
him," It was he who let her in, panting like a frightened hird-
" If is a pity to have to hurtj' so," he said coldly, relenting
lilEle at sight of ricr paltor. She essayed to laugh, passing on.
Beyond a touch of ceremony in manner be noticed no
further her late arrival. "Now that is very nice in him," she
reflected, with warm gratitude, "He must never know about
the highwayman ; but 1 will let Schneider £end home the dreaa
without linai trial on Thursday," y
So theic ripples wculd now have smoothed themselves; but
that the pair were lo dine out on Wciliicfiday night, and it
vras Norman Keith'? hahic to shave timselfn While he wore
the lather and the intent look accompanying that operation,
hU wife* in wrapper, came softly into the dr««tij>g-rooDi.
"Did you find that oiher collar button for me, dear?" he
Mkcd indistinctly, "this one won't do," She remembered,
with dismay, that the other had been for alteration in the
loftl pocket 'book.
**0h| I can't find it, that one must do: Norman" — lightly
and mistakenly, for he was again abiorbed^"li would be a
good time for me to «lay out late Jd|*i(in wh«n you are Ah^vjiifiif,
for you would never know."
"There is no good time for you to stay out Ute." Then,
perhaps, a slight scratch; for he «aid with almost &tetn de-
ion: "It must not happen agiiin,"
67S
Hired Weddt.vg Gas.ve.vts.
[Feb..
I
"Afuft not T' Hushing. "Is It the Czar, nr on\y n Gnn<l
"It i£ juhi youi hu£band ^'^coolly, aod it tnijcht hive been
effQctivcl}-, but for tlie fjict tbat he turned anii jircifrnffd 4
face wirh one check clear, the Acher tvhitc with Uiher.
She burst into a UltCe Uugb ; "You will be more fcajtsik
wben you have finished.'^
It was his turn to Hush, but he ct^mpteted hia toilet slkntly ;
and only went into their room in time to find her, moss-rose
like, in pile green draperies. He held something in his hand
and said quietly: ^' T have been more successful than you in
finding the button; and this is yourv, I thlnlt."
"My pocket- book ! " eomplcteJy bewildered. " tfbw^wb«n
— 'why^-l lo5L lE — it was stolen— ph I" — a ray of eonipfehen-
aiofi coming— "Was U >tf«/ Can it be possible? to frighten
me in Eucb a way J 1 did not know it wa» in you to be
so ungenerous — so unEentlemanJy — so unmanly."
"' Stop, stop ! " commanding^lyj " Chi va piftno va wno. Y*m
have S9 dii®arded my protests, that I thought a letAon might
be useful to ahuw you the possibiliiies/'
■■ They were undrctimcd of. ccTiainly, in yonr cn»e ; and I owe
you a thousand thanks for the lesson which eoit me a rtclctng
headache for a day or two/' She swept him a Httle mocking
courtesy- Her eyes shone, and a crimson spot burned on
either cheek, " But we had better postpone this dipcuwion in
definitely ; ror our friends may think iU-breeding another of
our pleasani little ways." She drew the white fur wrap about
her shoulders and went out- The diitance was short » and
neither spoke in the carriage; nor coming home. But when,
in ^moking-coat, he was about to tight bis cigar at home, and
met her passing into the dressing- room, he touched her hand
on the door-knob- "Shall we not say good^night?"
"1 wiflh it were good-bye," she said with bitterness,
He instantly withdrew his fingers. " Vour wishcf are always
mine. MtJieover. I anticipate them,"
She was »pparctitly asleep when he rose in the morning:
and Mary Ann gave him later a pencilled card : " I shall not be
down to breakfast Fray excuse me." On which he wrote and
returned: '*Wiih pleasure T" then went about tlic day's t>usi>
neas with an accnrnpanymg heaviness and disqmei which asserted
themselves whenever he had a moment to think.
On her part, havitig gaiduWv maiie iU huu»cbold arrevgc-
1906-] nmKD Wedding Gajtms^'Ts.
fncrta, she went out after lunch and [eft a note for him; "As
you might be annoyed/' he read in the evening, "at my Iat«
return from Schneider's, where I am going, I shat] dine at
mother'^, and my brother wiJl bring me home. You wilt find
all in order for the ' Chafing Dish,' £&d Mary Ann will wfiiL^'
" It is Thursday nigbt, eonfouad it t " grimly ; then sent a.
distrjcl messenger with the reply: "Do not hurry yourself.
We will no douhl keep up our bachelors' conviviality until late*"
It W35 the 6rsl " Chafi^ig Dish" meeting withoi^t her> and
Adams asked discontentedly; "'Why Mrs. Prescott could not
have her daughter any other evening but Thursday"; and
Murchlaon was frankly disappointed. Indeed the evening, wilh
thi£ difTerence, might have been a failure, but for the boat un-
obirusEvely exerting «ll powers of cnteitatnment, conversational
and otherwise.
*' I have had some exeeplional Chateau Vquem sent me,"
he said, "which you fellows shall try. With our one divinity
absent, I must see that (he nectar, it least, h of good quality."
And even a» he diew tbc bottles from sideboard recessesj
and the others laughed at a story of Clay's, he was tbtnlcing:
" She is, perhaps, singing now. She looks so sweet when she
dngB. And then old Torrance will come in and Egbert with
their violins; and &he will play the accompaniment and tuin
her bead to smile at them when the harEiiony chaims ber."
Then a surge of anger went through him, remembering the de-
fiant: "I am going to Schneider's."
The men who came in last were full of description of scenes
tiritnesscd during an exciting hour or two about darken Broad-
way, "Western steers, they were," said oiie, "and just blind
craty with being pent up in the cars, and then let loose. The
drovers could do nothing when they got away from them; and
th« police little more. To see that crowd flyjng here and (here,
and not knowing where was safety; imd the animals charging
among them, and now and then selecting some special fugitive
to pursue; and (hen hear the cries and bellowing and smash-
ing of doDr9 and windows, or any nhsiruction in their way, was
very like a nightmare- I hear that three or four persons were
killed and several hurt. Dut the mobi serious misadventure I
saw, was a languid lady suddenly come to lift running and
calling her coachman, who whipped up his hones and JTed»
leaving her to her faten"
" I'll wager you were behind « door yourseK/' sa,id M'a^O&.V^AiTfc.
660
HiJi£I> W£i>I>IifG GARMEh'TS.
iFeb.,
" I wi*,- ftvawed A<Ujiis. " I have iw (kill with Ihc Jasto-
Asd vbcn I become cowbojr* f will go W«sL Therein ^ome<
tUi^ cloiovt immoTft] tn dcsinr^ to have the dcUghu of the
plilai «»d dM dty «U in on."
"lMhtl>" ikOB^Ia kcr husband grimly, "did well to dine
ttU bcr sMbcf : ockerwis^? sh? would have hod Another fHgfat
CQMim haae, aad npdc of my contrivance."
ffis fMid Mb ftl widnighl, but he lingered over a cigir.
B« kMl dbov^ be bevd ber come in quietly An hour sgo;
^id bis rcMflfeaE. Mill bot. protnpted him to dcUy their
bcctcr have niayed &\\ night," he tmiilered. if
IC B«t tbe opened door di&cloied m empiy rooron
■'K^e Goac yvil Ejfbcn wac to bring hcs"
H» III Mflithitr cigar, but when one o'dock sounded could
UL liBgw iptifri *'I cenaifily will not conpromifte my alEi-
YV(|« b]r S<>*^ 'o'' ^v " < *^ straightway put on greatcoat and
tut 4ad atatttd for Illr«. Prefoott's.
TlM iMWiM W4« dftrk, as though a)] had retired. On the
•Mp« ^ p«L«»«d: "Sbc is safe In bed, and will smile coldly to
U^n tb«1 I i««« dbqttitNd*'; then rang the belL.
ts^ben, wbo. BOie or Jess unconventtonaHy draped, opened
^tt ^kttC •Avi' iow* delay, ftiared at htm: "What's wrong ^
ll biM «ick' Sball 1 call motherr'
" CimlMl^l <^^' ^■i* *^'T ^^ '^^ ^^ hour ar so this a^er-
l^1Jrtyl^ ^«f^ f^v« me a minute and V\\ be with you- Now,
^l^li^^_«« l^y *iood tofetber (n the street — "tell rae about
ij^ Kw aA»w«r Keltb drew her tittle note from his pocket,
brtwM U to ^tr brother.
**M9 W<Mhl bAV« fpent Ibe evening nowhere else/' com-
IM^W^ tb« Uttef bHf6r,*' 'or mother said she decided to re>-
U|« biM a4VOUUt 'oi tbe ^OiA^mii; iJiah,' and left word for me
W **^«» •*»* ******* ""y rIoliB; but I was engaged. Let us see
W «M waMV (ht«*-«lt« niajr have gone down Broadway tir£t/'
l%«Al tVM «i«%**the «*nic thought stabbing thon>: the lor-
|u4i^il, «vii4V tiMiu; thcte had been casuailies — some laul^
V.v* ^' ^ttr«utd K]|:bfltt, vilh conic quietnes*^ "thcfe's a
^41. h«<«; w» wni ipet a cab.*'
l«itv» l4» KliJlc* Street &Ttt," ordered Ke^rh, \V hen this,
l^«l« l«v«W«» bed beeu #ceoinplishcd, a peevifh voice frcnk
itlnUtd 1^1 no cuMomef had stayed late, "It H ft
i9o6>
HlfiEV WSDDiNG GAUME^^TS.
68i
feasl-djty with us lo^ocrrow, we c]ot<d lon^ befoie ihe line
itar" " HoapiUls next," said Keith; spe^kiDg with di^cultyi
There were paltents in several from ihat alt<^inoan'& accidents;
but no one answering the dcEcrLption given. The two men
drove on through ihe night \ti almott tllencc, sharing a jnu-
C^a] dread.
"Don't look »o while," said Egbert, when they came out
itcnx the last casualty ward. "We will find her, never fear."
"See here, " said Keith, unheedfng, " before wc go to police
headquariers, you get in and drive lo the St, Loui^* Infirmary.
They take women there. Leave me here and call back forme-"
Rgbcrt obeyed at once. guc55tng thai Ke!lh had some new
ihoughti Her bushand had suddenly remembered ihat It was
Uabers custom, of an afternoon coming uptown, to stop for a
few moments at a church near here always open in the day
tjme^ The sexton lived next door.
"She IS so tall and fair/' he thought, "the man might re-
Qiember seeing her/' He knocked him ui> ; itnd he proved to
be ari old fclJow garrulous and amiable. He was interested at
once.
"A very tail young lady, with light brown hair? Did she
have on a little green hat. with a wing? Ves ? Why he did
notice her, for she brushed against him in the vefilibulc, and
iiid: ^excuse roe/ She came in time for Benediction, but be
did not ^ee her again. Locked in ! Impossible, sir. Never did
such a thing in my life. But to satisfy you — dear, dear, I
don't blame you— ^at &uch ao hour I "
He fumbled about (or the keys and a box of matches. A
fide door swung open, and » ga^ jet in the vestibule was Hghted,
Another in the church faintly discovered the li^ht arched ceil-
ing and the pillars; a picture here and there; the dim sanctu-
ary lamp in from of Lhe far attar. Their low voices sounded
hoHow in this unpeopUd vastneea-
" There is no one here, you sec." said the sexton; and just
then a figure stirred in n pew; and Krilh aavr Isabel, and );ave
a greit sob of relief,
Sh« cftme to him shivering slightly ; but with k brave attempt
at A smile, "Do not mind/' she KuicI, hX the sexton's conster-
qacion, "it wis a little cold, but 1 have slept, I think, once Of
twico. It wa^ my own fault, not noticing when the church waa
closed. I did not expect to gel out before it was opened
again for firat Mass."
612
Hired WEDDSf^G Garments.
[Feb.
$h« wo^M not trust hetscif 10 meet her husband's cyei;
nor could he speak in the ft-w momenta before they reached
Ibc cftrrU);[e and Egbert. The Iatt<r's amarement was veiled
uodoT hi) uiuil £erenc pracElcatity.
"AII'h well that end^ well/* Mid he. "I am glad your ftb'
ftmction was devotional. But, habcl, there Is a time for prayer,
nA A time (or dinner- Well, good- luo ruing, for it is four
o'ddclc. Try something hot before you go lo bed/'
She trembled more violently as her huabanrt helped her tip
the «E«pa: and inside the \xy^\ her strength failed utterly. He
lifted her Id hi;^ arms, carried her along the passage to their
room, ftnd laid her on a lounge, gently removing her hal and
gloved. A glass of wine stilled the chaiteriiig of her teeth;
and then *he broke into heavy sobs, her hands pressed to her
Uev.
" My poor child/' he said gently.
"It wa^L early." she whispered brokenly, " when 1 c&me from
Kidgc StfeeT — where J only went to be hateful to yoo— as I
hftd already been- Then I was so unhappy, I could not K«y
at mother's — and then the cattle loose in Broadway — 1 saw one
gore ■ horae, I ran dawn iQCh Street lo the church and went
inland was afraid to come out until all was quiet. And pray-
ing In a dark corner — to be betlcr— did not notice anything
until 1 found niy^tEf locked In Ihc^ church. But there was the
fanctuary lamp; and t wouldn't have ininded. but thifihing of
you^NoriTian^Norman ! " Hia arma were around her. " Deaf-
est, have you begun 10 believe my wedding outfit hired? — '
when such little— little matters could make trouble between
us!"
"No more than my own, sweetheart. Where were the lov-
ing putjcicc and manly consideration I counted on in myself?
Hired, Jutely, lor they had vanished at the first touch. But
do not talk any tuore now. Vou arc worn out with this day
and night."
'* Vet, one thing more,*' she whispered with tretnulotis Iip«-
"I thought-^in the church^that I would^ after thia. atcquirc
some qualities thii might endure."
•*My *weec soul," he answered, drawing h<f DCarer wilBi *
very lender laugh, "while you acqulie them— 'think of mc, id
one not put praying for, at least."
I
I
I
Current Bvcnte.
While things in Russia are a long
Biisdft. wfly from being seillcd, and arc
siill in a state bordering on an*
arcby. suppressed lor the lime being by ruthless repression, yet
a ^tpp in the right direction has been laken, and hopes of
improvement may be cnlertatn<d. The eround for these hopes
tvsfs upon the fact (hat Count Witic has not been supplanted,
either by a dictator on the one hand, or by the revolutionists
OQ the Other- We do not mean Co 9ay that Count Witle Is
the one man who is able to save Russia, although there arc
*ome who think he is, or thai all (perhaps not eny) of his
measures arc defensible ; but, after all, there must be some
kind of a government, and bad an is that o! the Tsar it is
better than the rule oF the mob, especially of a mob oi »uch
A kind as yean of oppression have formed in Russia. One
Other thing contributes to make the situation hopeful, and that
ih that the Tsar still adheres to his grant of a Conslituiiijn,
and that he. therefore, Tecogniies his autocracy as a thing d
the past. However imperfect and undeveloped this Coneiitu-
tion may be, howevci untrustworthy it may be in its foundation,
yet we must now accustom ourselves to look tipon the Russian
government as constitutionaln Although the methods to main-
tain order which have been adopted may be abhorrent^ yei^ in
the presence of a revolution, these merhods may have been a
dire necessity.
The ftdellly of the aimy as a whole, however much waver-
ing there may have bei?n on the part of a few regimrnts. has
enabled the government to suppress the revolt of the Moecow
revolutionists^ Some 15, coo were kiMed and v^ounded and Ihe
destruction of property was enormous, even churches not hav-
ing been spared. The battle raged for a whole week, and
when the insurgents surrendered it was ^ilh the declared purpose
ot renewing the struggle in ihe near future- A remarlrable
feature was the large number of young men, almost boys, who
vrerc found among the slain, while the last of the bands lo
surrender wai cmnmandcd by s. girl of cightern. Many wo-
men, a> a maner of fact, look an active part in the struggle.
It would be tiresome to give a list of ihe places at which
654 CVJtXSNT FPS^TS.
divturb^inces of varioua kinds have been taking place. No part
of ibe Empire has ticcn without thejn, and it is bcJJeveil thU
oniy a pari of the truth h«s been revealed- A French engi-
Deer, who recently traveled from Baku lo St. Petersburg, de-
scribed the whole oi the south of Russia as being tn opett
revolt ; while the people dwelling in the eentral province*
were starving. It was with the greatcEt dtfliculty that he made
bit way through the country, the railway service being thor*
oughly disorganized. In Transtrflticasia the inhabiiants of a
district named Guria decided, nearly a year ago, to have noth»
ing more to do with the government. They ignored the offi-
cials, GBtabtished popular courts, and took the admi nisi ration
of justice into ihcir own hands, A general sent to re-establifh
the Russian power foiind that of Ibe people «o well established
and so well managed ihat, after reporting to the govprnmenij
the Guriana have been left, for the time being at all events, to
manage their own aiTairs,
Very diflercnt is tbc state of things in the Baltic provinoefL^
These are too near the capital to be left alone, and in fact
the way in which the insurgents have acted has rendered it
impossible so to do. For this revolt has gone fariher ibAn
mere passive resistance. It has taken the a^ive form of the
murder of landlords and the deseciatton of churches, A repub*
lie has been declared, contracts between landlords and peasanti
have been made null and void, and properties and forests have
been seltcd. The number of armed men in revoll: is not l«u
than 6o,coo, and so widespread and strong i^ the moveoient that
it is evpccicd that (he campaign to suppress it will last Ibe
whole ol the winter. The Letts, who have risen In this way,
are the backbone of the population of these provinces, and are
a very independent and determined people- They have h^d to
sulTer from the efforts at Ru^ification, which have been so
widely and so vigorously adopted in recent years. The own-
ers of the soil are GermanSn and these they hate even more
than they despite the Russian government* The success of the
Finns emboldened them to make these efforts on their own bc<
hilt The Tinna themaelvei^r oi all the many dilfcrcnt natioa-
alities oi which the Russian Empire contists^ have good rea*
son to congratulate themselves on the success of their elTons
to recover iheir traditional rights. These having been roslorcdi,
the Diet met a lew w^eeks ago. This Diet is, according to rood>
i
190^']
VSREl^TErS^ii IS.
6«5
era ideas, a very old-fashioned assembly, or rather group of
as&cmbties, for il c^n^jsta fif four di§liiict housF^ reprpscnt-
ing four di^litict Eaiaics — ;hc Noble*, the Clergy, ihe Bur-
geaficfl, And the PeajanlG- The Finns are now all in favor of ft
nform of thte eyst^ni, even the nobler and (he clergy are wrll-
Ing to renounce their hereditary and class privileges. The
majority of the Finns wish to go farther ihan has been gone
by Any — except a very feu — of the Stales who have organized
themselves according to m*iflcrn nMions, They propose to
have only one legisUcivc Body and to do wJlhcut a second
Chamber, And it la by universal sufTrage that it b ptopostd
to elect the members of this refoimed Diet, The exiles of
recent years have returned, most of the Russian olTiolali have
gone home, and if the Tsar if talthful to hit word, whatever
may be the fate of the rest of the Russian Empire, the future
promises for Finland an era of peaceful dcvelofmcnt,
Poland has not fared so well, nor are itt future prospects £0
l>r]ght. In fact, martial law has been again pmclaimrd. Thii^
however, was rather in view of the strike* than of the political
movement) and was accepted without comjilainl by the con-
vervalive element in the population. Not that political move*-
ments are non-existent, bur Che revolutionary party Is re-
strained by the better and the saner members of the com-
(nunity who, under the guidance? of the Tope, seek to gain
legitimate ends by legitimate means. It iB to the cotning i^ftwtf
that Ihe Poles look for a more satisfactory settlement of their
many just grievances.
The renewed railway, telegraph, and post-office strikes have
proved failures, and the government Is engaged in repression
of a kind characteristic of the pro-corislitulional days^n fact,
it IB hnrd to find anything constitutional in the present pro-
ceedings. But AS Count Witle remains Premier^ and ha§ de-
clared that he will not be the Instrument of reaction, hope
nuy itlll be entertained that Ihe days of despotism are past.
And thia hope is strengthened by the fact that the Tsar
baa ordered th^t the elections for the Duma shall be immedi-
ately proceeded with, and has promiilgHted a new electoral
law which, although its character is almost groieique, when
judged by our standard, is not a step backwards but forward*.
Notwithstanding its imperfections, the main body oi the people
teem wiUin|> to accept il, having become apprehensive that th«
proceedings of the rcvolution^rtes are not only 2 dinger iD
themsrlvcEH bui likely to lead lo a greater changer These
praceeding^ have been condemned by Father Gapoa, ihc orgAn-
izcf of the dcnionstralion of January 22, who now coclfs^ea
thaiC he did uot foresee the aby^s touaids which thai demor-
slration would lead tde people, Violence, slrikes. and all forms
oE incitement should now, he says, be abandoned. The people
sttt not yet ripe for all that is now bein^ claimed; the melhods
recently adopted will only precipitate reacCioOi Couikt Wittt
will have to give place to Cojni IgnatictT.
Suhatantial progress has cerUinLy been made. Little more
than a year ago the whole idea of repr*scn;aiive goverrment
was pefemptority thruif aside by the Tsar, the Refortuer* wert
branded by him as pef^ons who were anxious to ihrow public
and Stale life into confusion and who were working lor RuJ-
sia's enem[i!s. Last March, however, the Tsar, while declanng
h]& intention of preserving the immutability of the fundanienial
laws of the Empire, promised the convocation of a legislative
B.53embly. In August that promise was fullrUed, The powers
accorded to it, however, were so limited that it failed alto-
gether to satisfy the decnandE of th« people, and on the ^Otfa
of October what may be called a ConMiiuiion was granted, by
which freedom of speech* ot person, of conscience, and of asBO-
ciilioti were made the right of every Russian ; the franchijc
of the J^utna was extended, and to it was given an absolute
veto over all law£ and certain powers of supervision over the
adniinistration, Although the events of the recent weeks hare
obscured the prospect, yet it must be rcmemhercd [hut liberty
cannot exi^t without order, and we have rcKioti to bopc that
CojTit Witt«, in maintaining order, will not forget the defend*
of the newly-wnn liberties.
There have been no public speeches
Germany. of the German Emperor la re-
cord. At a private gathering, bow*
ever, he 1» reported to have said: " People ate wrong to sajr
that there i-i a war party around me. Such a party dot;s not
existn Even if it did exist, it would he of no importance, for
I alone am called upon to take a decision. I do not waat
war. because 1 consider war as contrary to nty duly towaidft
God atid towards tny people- 1 wa? vexed by coriain o0c«t-
I
I906J
Ci/£JUUVT MVENTS.
6S7
Lfve proceedings of M. Dclcasbc, but T ^q TuU justice to the
tici and firmness of M, Kouvier, I will do nalhing to create
difiiciilties, and 1 have given Count Taltenbach the most con-
ciliator/ instructions." These utterances, if authentic, contain
much 10 relieve the anxiety widely fell with reference (0 the
rclalions between Germany and France. Yet they indicate —
what must always be a never-ceasing cause of unreal — the de-
termination of the Hmpefor himselJ lo rule^" I alone am
called upon to lake r decision-" When The Tsar has (to some
extent, at al! eveou) abdicated his autocratic povyer, and when
that of the Sultan is too weak to be called power, the Emperor
William is the one ruler — for we need not mcniion fhc Prince
ol Monaco^who acts on his own sole responsibility. This, as
longr aa it Lastc, cannot fail to be a cause of anxiety.
But, although ihe Emperor has been inore silent than
usual, his Chanceller and his opponents have ar consiclerable
length, and on various occasions, defended and attacked (he
policy of the past few months. While Princt Biilow declared
that Germany'? action in the Mori^cco question was of a de-
fensive and not of an aggressive nature, it being impofsibie
thftt Germany should consent that her tights should be dis-
posed of hy an Anglo- French Convcniion, Herr Bebtt (the
spokesman of some three millions of eJcctors) condemned both
the manner and the object of ihal intervention, Tlkc Empcr-
or^s visit to Tangier he declared to be a provocation to France
and to England, and that it had resulted in the bringing of
those two countries more closely together than before. As to
the relations between Germany and England, the Prince de-
clared that the Empire had in reckon with a profound aversion
of public feeling in that country, Thi:^ is an exaggeration;
the proceedings of the Emperor during recent ^'cars do not
fnectr indeed, with unqualified admiration^ but there is no Eng-
lishman of any weight of character or influence, who ib willing
to attack Germany, or who wjshea for war. and there are
mauy Englishmen entirely opposed to war. The latter have
sbown this opposition by holding meetings as an expression
of good will and of the dcEire for peace. Certain Germans
have responded by holding similar meetings. But when the
Gerpan Emperor declares that it ift for him alone to decide,
no great contidence can be felt a& to what the outcome may
tw. Etpcclally a« the tnaperor numbers auion^ his subjects
CVRXENT EVESTS.
[Feb.
into Algena, The VeJiow Book shows that France has for
many years had reasons abundanTly sulhcicnt to intervene for
the preservation of her own intcTcsts. and thai, »o far ffom
taking advantage o( these opj^oriunhies, abe has scrupulously
refrained, even when asked by the Sultan, On the oiher hand,
Gcrmany^s interests arc of the smallcBt, so siria]!, inderd, were
they in i33o as lo be non-exJstenl. When the Madrid Con-
ference was hctd. Prince Biamarck specially inelruclrd h\s dele*
gate to thav Conference thai, "as Geimany had co intercsis In
Morocco/' he was to be guided in his altitude hy that of bis
French colleague. Things may have changed a little since, bat
not lo a great extent; for Prinee Radolin, the German Am-
bassador in Parifi, declared the Anglo-French Agreement quite
natural and perlectly reasonable. The only other Power ihai
has BubMiantial objects to gain ia Spain, Parts of the Moorish
territory already belong to her, and the close proximity of the
whole cuuntiy makes the qucalicn o( ita pUfi^cG^ui a matter vi
vital importance, Spain, however, has made an agreement with
Prance; and the recent Spanish Cabinet was understood xa be
on the French side. A change, however, hae taken place, and
a new Cabinet has come into ot^ee- Whether this will involve
a change in policy with relerancc to Morocco, is oot known
with absolute assurance- England will give a whole-hearted
suj>port to France, Itaty is placed in a delicate position, being
at once a member of the Triple Alliance, and at the same
time animated whh the most Ineiidly spirit to France. Her
own interesiB in the r^ueslion are very small. Those of the
rest of the Powers arc siill less. The United States also hai
its representatives at this Conference, as it had Jn that at
Madrid^in iSSo, Whal this means for the United States we mutt
leave the students of its policy to decide, Morocco is one oJ
the darkest of the many dark spots upon the face of the eaitb.
Whatever mny be the real purposes of the Powers who ar«
entering upon this Conference, however selfish they may be
and doubtless are, it must be the desire and the prayer of alL
lovers of their felLow-men that the results may, directly or tB*
directly, lead to tiie amelioration of the lot of its wretched
inhabitants, and put an end to the barbarities which they hav«
hitherto had to endure-
I
Cv/iitENT Events.
fi^i
£5]
The chief preoccupaiifHi o( ihe peo-
_ FiADCe. pl^ of France ha* been thdr tela,
^ lions with Geiinany. As we have
eaid, a much fLrmer aUiludf ha& be«n taken, ina^mucti as the
makitig of conceisiona only whetted ihe appetite of the German
Emperor, This tirmef aitUude wa& sh^wn by the Chamber of
Dcputicfi refutiiiB to prolong the debate after the statemem
made by M. Rouuler an the subject of Krench policy In Mo-
foccOk Such a discussion would have tended to weaken the
hands of the gov^crnmenl, La&t suminer fear and pusiiJAnimliy
dominated both the country and the Chamber. There were then
not a few advocate* of a yappf<ickevitnt between the two coun-
tries, The conduct of the German Emperor has changed tiM
that, ard has made the vaft majority of the French people
rcaliKe the danger of the situation* The internal has been used
in (trengthening the defences and in bringing the army up to
the right standard- Sir Charles Dilke, a lifelong sludeiit of
political and military affairs, after a sojourn in France for the
purpose of investigating the questian, declares that the French
army is equal in strength to ih^it of Germany, perhaps is even
& little the stronger of the two. This and the justice of their
cause have given greater confidence to the French.
Every good movement supers from the folly ot some of its
advocarcs. What purpcEc in the economy of nature hawk^and
Krpcnta and other pcala may scEve it is bard lo fay. It fa
c«»ler, however, to soe that fiiratics serve ihe purpoat of call-
ing attention to subjects which sensible people — who are often
loo easygoing — would neglect, A fanatic, however, unfortu-
nately often brings dUciedit itpi>ii a good cause- The putting of
4n end to war And its manifold horrors is a cauBr which cannot
but commend itself to all, and the progress of arbittailcc for
th« sctElcnieiit of disputes between nations \i one of ihr moil re-
markable of modern achievements. There has, however, appeared
upon the ictnc in France a group of Anii'Militarists who, not
content with advocating arbitration and attempting to bring
home to the mind the evils of war, incited soldiers to revolt and
even to ahool their officers should they attempt to lead them
into battle, even lor the defence of ihcir hcimcs- These men
were brought before the Courts and sentenced To various teiiDS
of imprisonment.
The dctermiciatlon of M- Loubet to retire into private life
could not be shaken, and a n',w President, M. PallicEf^^t b.«&
69S CV&RE/kT £y£ATS, [Fet.^
bc«n «kcted. Any distinction possessed by the new Pfcfident
IS rather negative than posilive^he hut kept himself Free from
scandals, notably that of Panama. Of lh« former President's
action during his term there is much worthy of praise; and H
in some points blame mast be given, it h well to remember
that the position of the fic«idrnl ctoEeJy resembles that of ihe
King of England, who reigns but does not govern Ail ini*'
tiative h left lo the Cabinet and to the Parliament. The
President's duty is to ratify their resolutions, When thocc
rc5otuiiari9 are wrong, of course be ought not to ratify tbem;
but who expects so much virtue in public men In our times?
Church and State have been separated since the lit of
Janiiary: this does not mean that the Church has been freed
from the control of the 5tate. On the contr&ry, this conlro^
i& being exercised in the most insulting and even sacrnegtotu
manner. For the sake of niaking the inventory of chureti
property prescribed by the law. officials have cJaJmed the right
tn open the doors of the tabernades. Whether the law «JhaJl
be resisted or accepted and made the bf^:>t of is a question still
undecided. Great diitcrences upon this point exist among the
BishopSn A plenary meeting is to be held jn Paris to discuss tb<
question. What form resistance would take— whether it would
go to the length of giving up all the churches and starting
afresh — seems hard t^ decide; the iatter course seems a very
diHicuLtone; and whether it would be successful seems doubtfuL
In vindication of his own and Leo Xlll.'s conduct of ibc
negotiations with the French governments, the Pope has caused
a White Book to be published entitled: 7Ae Sz/iara/iifrt tf/ tkd
Church and Siau in Frantt. This book gives a complete his-
tory, verified by documentary evidence, of the COnfliCl, It
dearly show^ that the responsibility for the separation re^ia
with the latest French Cabinets, that they deliberately acted
with the object of bringing about this separation, The pe<>pk
of France have never been direi;lly and cjcptessly cun^uUed,
It has been accomplished by politicians for their own ends
and on their own initiative. Still ies$ is the Holy See rcapon-
sible. By conciliation and conccs&ion ihe Popee did all ihil
waa in their power in order to avert the separation. From
the documents published in this book it is als4> made dear
that the aim of the men who have effected this separation was
not merely to weaken the Church, but to remove from France
every vestige of Christianity*
I
I
l9Dfi]
CURRE.WT £r£yTS.
^V In Hungary ihe long proirncted
^^^^K AuBtria. struggle is £lill continued, ^l\^^ ibero
^^^^^ 16 Utile reason lo hope for e
«peedy break of the deadlock. The Xing ik\l\ make no con-
cession CD ihe point ai lEsue — the wcrd« of comnaiid ; and tbe
Coililion will nol take olTice mitese ihts concession is made.
A furiher prorogation ol Parliament has taken place, in the
hopes th&t some mcani for a return to the ordinary and ilk-
gltimate r/^imi may be found, Meanwhile ihe taxes are being
withheld and the officers appointed by Ihe present holders of
powct re»tsied. The spirit in whSch the Hungarian resistance
is being made is shown by an incident which took place lately
ftt Debreciin, the mogt Magyar of Hnnganan cities. The King,
on the advice of his present ministry, appointed a high sheriif
I for the county of which Uebrecxin is the chief town. The
leading cilizens^not Ihe roughs or hooligan s^ — armed them-
selves with Sticks and atones and rotten egg;, and went to the
railway siatioo to meet him. On hiL arrival he was dragged
from th« train, stoned and beaten, placed in a hearse^ con-
veyed through the streets of the town, the crowd singing ihe
Koesulh Hymn. After suffering many other indignities, und
having been seriously injured, he was forced lo sign his resig-
nation and then despatched under cavaliy escort to the railway
Station to be l^ken back by the night train to Budapest. This
is an extreme instance of what is taking place throughout
HuDgary, and seeing to indicate ^ determination to secure a
complete separation from Aostrlft.
k The reconstruction of the Ministiy
Italy. of Slgnor Tortls involved the res-
ignation of SIgnor Titlonin This
was regretted on many grounds, for, as Foreign Minister, he
had proved himself capable of sleeting the ship of state safely
in the midst of son^ewhat dangerous waters. The new Foreign
Minister is a Sicilian— the Marquis di San Giuliatio He has
not held otHce before, but is reputed to be a man with distinct
views of his own on foreign poEicy, formed both by oiudy sod
travel, and his appoiiitmeni is looked upon with Home anxiety
At Vienna, Austrian attempts to Germanize Trent, to Slavon-
Ue Trieste* and to eTcpand atonu the coast of Dalmntia may
not, It is fearedn meet with his approval.
naiue
MRS. FITZBERBEBT AND I'iubctbcrt is compEctely vindi-
■ GEORGE IT, cated ; • and the world U the nchcf
^^^ By Wilkios. t^r poaaesaing the full story of h«r
^^^ loyalty to conscience, her devotion
to an unworthy hufband through a long £crie» of trials, in
which the strongest pressure was put upon hcr^ altemaieLy, to
sacrifice the one or the oiheff and she could escape; only at
the price oE her own peacEn ShoMiy before her death, Mrt.
Fit^herbert caused to be deposited in a London bank a pack-
age oi document*, In the care of Irtisires, with no very spe-
cific conditions a« to when they should be opened. It was
known that the!» papers contained everything necessary to
clear up whatever obscurity remained eoncernitig her relation*
with George IV. As she was connected with almost all th<
aristocratic Catholic families of ILngland, they were always de-
sirous that the documents should be made public. But every
request for permisiion to open the package was refused. The
documents were lately transfcrTed lo Windsor Casilc. M{.
Wilkins, who bad already obi^ined from members ol Mre.
Fltihcrbert's family a number of papers, for the purpose of
writing her biography, received permlsfijon from King Edwaid
to inspect the package and publish such of its contents as
•hould place the marriage beyond dispute. Thc«e proved to
be the marriage certi5caie, signed by a Proteatant clergyman
and t^vo of hcf relatives; and a will o( Gcoi^e, dra^vn by him'
aelf in ["S?, when he thought hiniEelE at the point of death-
Few productions of the Imagination can vie, in romanlic
Interest, with this real history, circling round a sfcret mar-
riage, whose existence was a political problem of first impor-
tance at a period of intense political conflict, complicated by
religious animosity.
Mary Anne Smythe, belonging to the *' great cousinhood
of Roman Catholic families in England*' — Atundell», Stosr-
tans, Staffords, Stlonof*, Jcminghauifr OjfTords, WeUU, Hlniittt*>
FitiherbcrtJ, etc — was a young and surpassingly lovely wo*
man, a widow for the aecond time, the reigning beaut/ of LoD-
• Vff, ^'W*l«*-Fj «/ <;#«^ /*'. Br w, M- WUtoi, m,At. y.SA.
K'«v Vflik I (,McmkM, GfMb t Co-
I
I
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New Books.
695
<lon socit^ty, when, in 17SS' destiny threw her acroo tbe path
of George, Prince of Wales, who had juai come of age> He
wu briltianti handsome, generous, warm- he art eii, endowed with
every quality to charm a woman's heart- He was, too, un-
truthful, gWen to gambling and drink: And his reputation was
already tarmshcd with mote thjin one af!air oi gallantly. He
fell in love with Mrs- Kitzbefbert at first sight, and pursued
her with impetuous assiduity.
Though her heart was louched, she endeavored to avoid
him, Of high principles and i r rep roac^h able character, hhe lold
him it wa» marriage or nothing, and that marring^ wa( out of
the queation. The Act of Settlement decreed that for any
member of the rejgnJog family to many a Calholk was to (or-
feir his claim 10 the succession^ and the Royal Marriages Act
cnade illegal any marriage of the royal family that should be
contracted without the Sovereign's permission. The formidable
penalties oi jirtrmunirf were incurred by the parties contract*
Ing such a marriage, as well as by the witnesses and oIBciatlng
ClergyiTicn,
George was reckless of consequences. To overcome Mrs.
Fiithcrbcrt'a reluctance he employed a lusc. that he had found
«R]cacioU5 to enlist female sympathy. He fell dangerously ill
—or pretended to do so. Four noblemen wailed on Mrs, Fiu-
Herbert, to tell her that the Prince of Wales wa* in a dcsper*
ate condition, and nothing could save him but her presence
at Carlton House. At last she consented to go, but only in
company with a lady of exalted rank<— the famous Duchess
of Devonshire, They went through a sort of mock marriage,
when George declared thai if she would not marry him he
would take his Vtit. She left immediately; and perceiving that
the whole scheme was a conspiracy against her honor, on the
part o( the four ''gentleman," she (led frcm danger by quit-
ting England. On her return the Frincc renewed his addresses,
dll, at length, with the approval of her guardian and relatives,
•he consented to marry him The certificnie, written by the
Prince himiclf and duly authenticated, is published by Mr.
Wilkins.
The Parliamentary conflict between Whig and Tory, the
King's party and the Prince's parly, was then rsging- Ru-
iDOra that the Prince had married a papist were damaging the
latter, and Fox denied the report in the House; and, it was
N£ir Books.
b«1i«ved, did £0 with George's approval. This uholv qucfittofi
is treated at length by Mr Wiikin^, who rather excuses Fox's
share in the transaction. He rcJales with a graphic pen Ike
QvcDis of the nott i«w years, during wbich Mrs- Fiuhctbert
was mrtovinded everywhere t>y the Prince wilh the defeienc*
due to a wife, and, though bitterly anUgoniwd by the Kiog
and Quc«n. was ircited as George's nlfc by her frkfidt, and
with ^^reai distinction by all the Pjiijte's party anO by bU
royal broihcrs^
In I7£i7 came the King's insanity and the debate on ibt
Regency, when the quf«tion of the dariiage w» at:«iit railed
and canva&aed with great biUcrness; then, for the accoad
time. " W35 Mrs, Fitxherbert'} marriage publicly denied in 1*ar*
liament, and on this occasion by men like Grey and Sheridan,
who, if they did not knew the full facia ol (he ca^E. kriew for
certain that a ceTctnotiy of marriage had takvn place/' Be*
cwecn 17S9 and 1791 discord reigned in the royal family; th«
King and Queen persecuted their eldest £on and bad qu^irelj
wilh the others, Mrs, Fitzherbert exercised no small inAuence
for peace* and at the same time did mueh to restrain her bos-
band from bis wild courses, and bis profligate associates. Sbc
received sfirae reiuctani: teoGgmtion frcm the Court, ThiDgl
passed in much the jame way up till I7^S- when the Prince
(ell utider the iiinucncc of Lady Jersey, and at the &ame tt
fonnd biniielf deeply in debt and losing his popularity.
We rausc refer the reader to Mr, Wiikins' captivating 9^t^
for an account of bow ihe^e lhr«c facloii biouKhl about, in
J794. the first separation between Mrs. Fitzhrrbcrl and the
Prince, who, to aatiafy his father, and thereby get his debts
paid, in 179S- married Caroline of Brunswick, whom be afier-
wardK treated m<jre basely, if possible, than br did Mi*, fits-
hcrbert. He separtitcd from her in 174^6, and imntediaiely sent
overtures to Mrs, filxherbcrt to renew her marital relations
with hint She turned a deaf ear. litil again the Prince's long
persistence, and her own heart, btoiight her back to bins; not,
however, before she had consult<.d the Pope, who, ia a ipcdaJ
Rrief, directed her to tcturn to her husband.
In i^oTi Mr^. Pit^herbert was formally and openly feeon*
died to the Prince* and the union tasted for several years^ ibai
were, on the whole, years of bappincts and hoaor for her*
he did nut reside undrr ihc same roof with her husband^
N£W BOOXS.
nor had she ever don« fo. But th«y were coMtantly together,
especially at the Prince's favorite fesidence— Brighton. She
was (he centre cl fashion there, and, in a less degree, in Lon-
don. Society p&id hcr full respect. Her husband's brotherir
were devoted to her, and. ever kind, gentle, and utiselfisli, she
became known as the peace- maker of the royal family. Kind-
ly, honest, foolish Carohne respected her< *'The FHncess of
Wale^," wrote Lady Bury, "speaks highly of Mrs. FitxherbetL
She always says: 'That's the Piince'a true wife. SEie is an ex-
cellent woman; it's a great phy he ever broke with her."'
The events which gradually led to Ihe final separation, that
took place about the time that George obtaine<l the R^gency^
the Seymour Ca^e. the appearance on the scene of the ultrd*
Protectant, the Marchioness of Hertford, the growing selfish-
iie5£, dissoluteness, and vanity of George — throw Mrs. Fitzher-
brft's character into strong relief.
The separation came in i8n, when George, deprived for-
ever of her inriucnee, started with increased speedy under the
[jijidance of Jjidy Herlfocd, down the path of sensuality. The
Marchioness of Conyngham succeeded Hertford, the Sover-
eignty followed the Re^'oncy ; and, without ever again meeting
the wife of his heart. George at last went down, despised, un-
loved, to his unhonored grave. Says Mr. Wilklns ; " Even
when their relations were most strained, he had silently ren<
dcred her the homage which vice, citcn unwillingly, pays to
virtue' Though passion was long dead, he still retained for
her feelings of respect. He knew her to be a good woman)
»iid in his heart of hearts he rcgarried her as hU wife/'
In the will that he made in 1787 he left all his property
10 her ^"* to Maria Fitzhcrbert, my wife, the wife of my heart
and Euul — siill such she is in iho eyes of heaven, was, is. and
ev<r will be auch in mine." "I desUe," the document runSr
"that I may be buried with as little pomp a» poBiible, and
that the picture of my beloved wife, my Maria Fitj^hetbcrl,
niay be interred with me. suspenfled ruunfl my neck by a rib-
bon, ai I used to wear it when I lived, and placed rLifht upon
my heart/*
The picture here referred to wav given 10 him by ber.
She had had two tiny mlniaiurei painted, one of herself and
one ol him, and placed in two lockets. She kept the Prince'*
picture, and hofh vowed thai they would wear them alw{iy« in
OMinory of their love.
693
New Books,
(Feb..
When >hc knew that George v/^'^ near dealh, in 1830, ifce
wrote to him asking for some Ust mca&age. Bui the ktter
camp too Edic ; he was ^yii^gp ^nd, though moved by the l«iler,
couM not answer, The next king* Wi]}iam IV.. » warM
"Irknd of Mrs. Fitibcrbcri, oHcrcd that manjr of the jeweb
tAd other trjnlcets that ^he had given to the Utc Kinf; shodd
bv Teturnt-d to her She sought in vain among them for Uie
minUiure, Then she caused inquiries to be made. She leartied
that thove about the KJrtg when he died knew that he had wora
the miniature 10 the Jasi^ and that they believed il wat buried
with Wm. Later she had positive assurance from ihc Hnke of
Wellington. "When he wa* on his deathbed George IV, gat-e
the Duke strict injuncllocs tu see that iiothing ihould bc re-
moved from his body uflcT death, and that he should be buried
in the nighldothes in which he Uy. The Duke promited
that his Majesty's wishes should be obeyed, and the Kiof
seemed much happier for this aBsurancc. Left alone with lh«
body, which was then lying in an open coffn, the Duke no-
ticed that something was (ufpeoded from hi* neck by a much*
worn bUck ribbcin- He wa» seized with an [incontfollable de-
sire to see what il wav; 30, coming nearer, he drew aside the
collar of the ahirt; and, lol upon the dead mm's breait wai
the liny locket containing the miniature of Mrft. Fit^herbrrt.
The Duke reverently drew aside the nightshir: over the jewel
again, so That none might ace it The King wm buried «4tb
the miniature next his heart/"
Did Mrs, FitKhcrbert Hnd in the hnowlcdfe of her hnaband'n
fidelity to the poor memento of a love long dead any com*
pensation for the yean of cold neglect? Only a wonai] nuy
answer this. After fearning ol ^hi* incident, however, we can
never a^ain read with qiiicc the old Jicst and hearty concur-
fence, the pagc» which exprcts IJyron's fierce icom, or Thadc'
eray*5 contempt of George IV. We Eire, rather, prompted to
strive, if possible, to enter into the charilabtc spirit evinced
towards him by the present biographer of the woman *'wboro
he wedded In his youth, wron^d in hia mature yeara, and
neglected in his old age": "Hi? conduct," «ays Mr. Wilbtni,
"to her fnay be palliated, but it can never be juiliiied; yet
even here Q3uch of it was duo to inherent dcfocta in his char*
acter. which was unstable as water It is easy for thote who
live far removed hy time and clrcumttancei trftm htsdilttculUes
»nd tem^EAiJons to condemn him, We at least will not add
\
igofi.]
J/SW Books.
699
to Ihflt condemnation, but remtmber only that there must have
been good In him, or a good woman would not have loved
him;'
Concerning the heroine herself we have the estimate of
Grevillc. who was wont to deal out eulogy with a sparing
buid: "She was not a clever woman, but of a very noble
spirit, difti lit crested, generous, honest, and affECtionaic^ greatly
befoved by her friends and relations, popukr in the wcrld,
and treated with uniform distinction and respect by the royal
family,"
Wa» there any i93uc from the marriftge of George IV. tod
Mrs. Fitzherbert ? " Neither by ber liret or second mar-^
fiage, nor by her third marriage with George. Prince of Wales,
had Mrs. FiUherbert any chitdrenn" ia The answer of Mr. Wil-
kins. No document of the famous packet either supports or
denies this conclufilon. The arguments advanced In favor of
the claims gI the American Ord family are ably set forth in
an article tn the J/cnM, for January, 1905, from the pen of
Father Thurston. SJ^, who supports the opposite opiuJon-
The triumph, within Catholidfm,
THB DOGMA OF THE RE- of Newman's principle of develop-
DEMPTION- menl, and the present form of ihe
By Abbe Riviere. rationalistic attack upon Chris-
tian faithp have combined to en-
force the truth that dogma must henceforth be carefully studied
and vigorously defended from the historic point of view. Our
opponents, in the words of one of them, no longer attack u£;
they explain ua ; and they claim that they sxplain us away.
It i^ useless to attempt to meet Harnack and Sabatier and
Riltcht with metaphysical reasoning and deductive syllogism.
They have shifted the conflict to the field of history i and on
the field of history they must be encountered and overthrown.
The history of each dogma from its origin must be traced
through the centuries; and while growihn development ^ and
imeisentiAl modifications are acknowledged, they will be shown,
not merely to be nowise Incompatible with identity, but even
to be the characterlitici by which the divine truth manifests iti
vigor and vitality. The fine w<>rk of the Abb^ Riviere' h a
valuable contribution to tht- library of historic theology which
JOO
NKIV Boons.
[Feb-
Ehrhnrd, Battifol, and othrrs h^ivc! bcgUQ, It is a profound ind
^xlcnBivc tludy, from the historical fiiandpoint, o( the do^^i
of RademptioH) from itE orig^'ti m the Nev/ Tcslameiit down
to tn formulation in Scholastic times. After an explicit stftte-
ment of the Catholic doctrLnCn and an outline of the various
ratloniliMic sy^tem^ which ire trained against l1| M- Riviere
an«lyacB the New Te^taiQcnt data to show the conception of
the dogma ts it existed in the mind of the primitive Churcb.
He then proceeds to trace its development, lirfit among the
Greek Fnthers, and. next, amon^ the Latins. Thence he i^U
low» it up through the intermediary channels of the seventli,
oi^hlh, fl.nd ninth centuries, tiil we r^ai^h the medisv^I crUtt
and the orthodox reaction of the days of Abelard, St, Bernaid,
And Hugro of Si- V[ctor, followed by the theoloeical elaborAiioa
that took place chiefly through the Uboit of Peter the Lotnbard,
Alexander Balers, and St, Thomis. The various juridical
theories, and metaphorical formulations of the fathers ^re
analysed and criticUed in order to separate the etscniial from
the ephemefdl dresfi in whii^h men, laboring under the limita-
tions of thought and language which their age imposed on
them, have clothed it. The entire study is a victorious demon-
stration that, from the beginning, the central idea which cou-
sUCulcs the mystery of the Redemption has endured a? a funda-
meiua.1 article of Catholic faith. The book x% a monument of
pattifitEC and theological erudition; it is characterised by that
pcrfci^lioEi of logical method and clearness of language which
WO are accustomed to look for in works emanating from A
French pen, and which we ftcidom find, in an equally high
degree elsewhcie- Do^ibtless a complete solution of ifce grfAl
problem which M. Riviere has undertaken is not to be arrived
At in a sin^ic e^say, nor by ujie iitdivjdual, but will be the out-
come of many etiorts of scholars whoiie works wi|], resprdire-
Xy, supplemeni one another. Meanwhile M. Riviere deserve*
our gratitude for having provided m clTeclive answer to ibc
IhesiB of Jiarnack, RitiichI, and Sabaticr on the great dogma ol
the Redemption'
I
The Psalmist's exciamalion, God
LLVfiS OF TWO SAIWTS. i* wonderful in his saints, recoivffs
fresh emphasis from the fact that,
side by side with the great founder of the Redemptorist Or-
'^'tfj Sl AlphonsuBj illustrious for hi» eighty years of heroic vir-
!^F.w Books.
luc, and for learning that has ranked him amung th« doctors,
the Church has raised lo equal honor a simple lay brcthcr of
the sime order, whose caictf was contunimatcd wilhin ihc
bficf span of Iwenty-niite years. Si, GerAfd Majella wq» flmcng
itkOEC canonized in 1904. This short popular life cf Ihc sbItit'
if written with the very practical puTpijf« of impr^saing on the
reader's mind that, during his life, St, Gerard was the insifU"
ment of bringing to man)' souls who had been living in saeri>
1cg«, owing to bad confessions, the grace of repentance, and
that, since his death, the same giace has been voucheafid to
many sinners who have invoked his aid. The preacher who
h&s to speak of the necessity of a e<^od confesBEOn wj]3 Iind
this little volume a powerlul ally.
Like atl the other numbers of M, Jo]y'« excellent series of
L€* Saittfs, M> Suau'? St. Frairetr Bor^a U ain example ol
^ftagiology written with due regaid to the dvminds of critical
IHSlory, He gives ufi the man as well as the saint. The secu-
lar life of the Duk« of Gandia. and the influence which he
wielded in the 6ociil and political wotM, arc fintrly related; and
helps to the understanding of the immense benefit that accrued
from his reception to the struggling society of St. Ignatius,
then beset by powerful adverse influences, In a short chap-
ter, or section, M. Suau very happily analyacE the spirit of the
uini, chBracterized by cheerfulnesa> and a human tenderness
which, without committing any rapine on the sacrifice that he
had laid on the altar, prompted him to take a lively praciical
interest in the welfaie of his numorcns descendants. What a
l^cld for the imagination is opened by M. Suau's observation
Ifaat, had Francis remained fn the world, he might have been
appointed governor of the 1-ow Countries instead of the Duke
of Alva! But, bom to better things, he became a tower uf
strength to the Church and the Society of 5t. Ignatius:
" Apr^s Saint Ignace, il n'est pcrsonne a quv elle soft plus
redevable qu'a lui> El dans i'tglise Catholique, Borgia fut
un dcs exenipJes les plus rematquants de renouvct)emen1 des
idles apr^s b Renaissanccn exemple d'autant plus saisissant,
qoe ion ftom rappeUit let plus grandcs hontei de I'-'ige pr^c^-
*
I.
70* y£tv soaxs, (Feb.,
On« who kn«n intimately ihe lats
HUMILITY OF HEART. Cardinal Vaughan has said of him: .
Trawlntcd t>y C«rd, Vtughw, .' a more iruiy humble man I h4ve |
^etdoin, if ever, come across. Jt
wat the humility of a child, it was so 5weet and simple, so strong
aod tAint-llk<; may 1 not even venture to «ay Cbriai-Uk«."
To appreciate the fuU significance oi this fitatcmcTit — which it
but representative of the universal verdict recorded bj' iho4<
who had opportunity to judge what kind of man the late Arch-
bishop of Wcsiminatef wa«— we mu^t remember how many
ondowmeuts, native and acquired, he po^essed that, naturally
conildcred, would have spoJkd the humility of a weaker raan^
iLiiLhIriouN lineage, personal charrn, the prestige ol practical sue*
ce», 4n ecclesiastical rank which usualTy condemns its holder
to breathe a somewhat dose atmosphere saturated with unmcas^
tired reverent adulation. It i& ioierealing^ and useful to know
what ma«ier» oE the spiritual life the Cardinal depended on for
help to cultivate hia most conspicuous virtue. His vadf jwfirvx
was the Treatise on humility written by Padre Gaetano MarU da
Bet]£amo, a U''^^ Italian misaionary of the eighteenth centufy.
The iinmiUty cf Ht^rt* was his favorite book of mediiaiioo
for Ihitty years. Towards the close of hiE H/e, during a period
of leisure imposed by breaking health, he translated it into
Er^gluh : and earneaily commended it to the use of laity, clergy,
and iiitcrhoodfi. Of its character \\ will be enough to repeat
the judgment of Benedict XIV. on Padre Gaelano'e works:
" They have this quality, rare in our day, that they satisfy the
inieitoct and the heart; their solid doctrine in no way dries up
tbvir lender devotion, and Ibelr devotional sweeincAs in no way
detraaU from the perfect solidity of their dociritie/"
Before his death. Father Naville,
APDKESSES TO CARDINAL Newman's literary executor, pre*
WfiWMAN. pared the contents of this volume
for the press. Its main contents
sra ft collection of sixty odd addresses to the Cardinal, with bii
fipllei,f on the occailon of his elevation to the purple. There
|# ftlvo a profacoiy narrative of the events relating to the con-
^H*mil*^9fN»*^- V^^m lli« hBltnp or Taihtr C«J>Lan Mary J* ■•rE'Cuo lC«rvflL(it),
%f \\%{\\Yr\ ^:*rlliL4l Vauifhin. fltr/i V'irVi QhrirLK^r Brvilim,
IO«*t 0'*'<J Kiv Talti Kn&L i'D^ElAri: l-ancfLiuu. CrctDa Cu.
IS06.] New Books. 7(>3
fcrring of the dignilj'. The letter of Cardinal Nina ofTeiing
the hAl, and Newman's repl^, as wdL as his Tetier to the Pope,
Hre ^ivcn in Kngli^h. \vhUe the Italian and Latin foriiiG are
found m an appendix, Thercj loo, is another letter which
caused so much heat and hcart-burnrngs — that of Newman t<b
Bishop Uilalhorne, "the terms oE which gave rise Xo the im-
pression that Ihe Cardinalate had been dedined/' It might
well have taxed even Newman's powers to reply to so many
ftddrcsses of ihe same chaiactcr without repcalhig htmsclf.
Yel. ftktiough the aentimenU expressed in all the replies are,
neccssarJEy, very much slikei the form ot expression and the
tone nf the sentiments are adapted to each occasion with in*
rTchau^tible versatiiily. Many passages, loo, are oF the texture
which Newman alone could weave out of English words.
Hr. Harper's manual • on the pro-
STUDIES IS THE PRO- phctjc cletnent in the Old Testa-
PHETIC ELEMENT IS mentis a most valuable book. It
THE OLD TESTA MEKt. 3^ ^ot a narrative hislory of pro-
By Dr. Harper, phecy, nor a properly so-called
ana.iyaisof prophetic teaching, But
It alms at guiding fairly advanced students of the Bible to a
thorough and scientific: understanding of the propheiic spirit
snd teachinj; as they existed among the Hebrew pcopk. It con-
tisiB of searching questions, for the answer to which the student
must consult the Scriptures thcmselveBi it consists, secondly,
of illuminating paragraphs on the historical background of
prophecy: and finally of biblioeraphica] notices which put the
reader In touch with the fullest modern researches in bibHcaJ
criticism. Dr. Harper bases his book upon the documentary
analysis cf the Hexateuch, the late oiigin of the full Levitlcal
system^ and the composite character of even the later prophets.
Doubtless many will condemn the work nt once because of these
pointsof vrcw: but few. probably, who have a firrt-hand knowl*
edge of Scripture will cake issue with it on these maitcrt. In
fftCt, in readmg^ this volume itself, brief as it is, one will find
very cogent reasons for thinking reipcctfully of Ihe cjuadiuple
docunieot theory now admitted by nearly all specJalials of every
Khool and creed. For Dr. Harper enters very considerably into
lUjtnr. CUc«flo^ t;Eiiv&ilijr of tbL»Ao Vt^u
h«xAtcuchd! criticism, although ihAl :* not hU l^cld of {fivesti-
galion^ Still propfaacy begins with the earliest books of Hebrew
Hlcralurc. J,, E., and D. are prophetic documents through And
through. And perhaps the most valuable pagrs in this book
4re thoe« which describe Iho aim, spirit, and hisicricat jet-
ting of (hose ancient strata in the Hexaleuch, So much of
(he work indeed is giver to this side of the *iubjeet, that only
two of the writing prophets are discussed, Amos and Ot^e.
A later volucne wHt deal with the other prophetSn For 0&«
tntere^Ied in the Analysis of modem biblical cnTicism, 1hi& manua]
will be in a high degree valuable- and H one is in an early
ttige of scriptural study* it will be almoBi: indispensable'
JOAN OP ARC,
By Urs. MttAweU-ScoU.
The paper on " Joan of Arc,"
which appeared a twclveinonlh ago
iu the NifHMMrii Ctnlnry and
AJ/frwartit, from Mr», Mi^welU
Scon, deserves the more enduring form which It has now re-
ceived-* It U a complete^ though not very detailed, life of the
Ma.id ; and is wrttien iti a simple strain which well coa^ortit
with the chofacler of the heroine. The author has taken her
materials almost exclusively from Mr. Douglas Murray's Eng>
glish edition of the most autbenlic records that exist — the re*
ports of the ItiaI at Rouen, and of the iCehabilLiation pro-
cesses whichp twenty years afterwards, cleared Jean's name
from the unmerited ignominy which her enemies sought to
^ten upon it. It is ucedJtss to say that Mrs Ma3twi<ll Scott
i« la fullest sympathy with her subject. Her love for the
"Leal Northern Land" displays itself in giving prominence to
the loyalty shown to Joan by the Scotch officers and men in
the French strvice, and especially by the Bishop, John Kirch-
michaet, whose devotion to Joan is some sort of a set-off to
the conduct of Tierre Caucbon. Bishop of Beauvais, who earned
for himself pre-eminence of infamy m one ol tbc moat inJa*
^ moua affairs of history.
^L STUDIES I« ANTS. "^^/T/- r'*" ^'^"""""'
^^^■^ biologists, and ifr not withont hoc-
I or in America; witness the tcMimony of Frofesior Whee^r, of
1 the University of Texas, who has declared in lh« Amtrit^n
I
i
igo6,] N£W £0OJCS. 70s
NitfurnHst that " Wassman, m hts numerous writings, has un-
doubtedly done much) at least in Germany, towards the ex-
|)osure of this psiiedo- psychology (of Brehm, Uuedmcr. and
othera) and a more rational conception of anl behavior," ThiA
voluToe* U a translation of the second GcrmaD edition of Fa-
ther Wassman'^ study of ant^ which, for geucial interest and
scientifie observation, may rank urjlh the clasaie work of Sir
John Lubbock — w* beg pardon, Lord Avebuiy. B«id« its
value as a contribution to natuial hUlory, it has Another a& a
piece of Hpologelics- For the aythor marshals hie facte to
encounter a main tenet of evolutionism, that man is a develop-
ment from the brute. To combat this, Father Wassman has
gone 10 (he am, and studied its ways, which afford a double
argument against the accuracy of our evolutionist pedigree;
first* the ant instinct approaches nearer to reason than docs
that of mammals which are afssigned to ua as nearer relativcA;
second, between the wonderful instinct of these little creatures
and reason, even as manifested ia the lowest tavage, there \s a
djfEerence, not oi degree, but of kmd.
Every pubUcatton from an Epis-
LEX LEVITARUM. copal pen receives, very properly.
By Bishop Hedley. f,o,n ,he reviewer a measure of
superlative commendation, dictated
by reverence for authority irrespective of objective values. This
good custom has one drawback- IJke the exaggerated use of
italics, it weakeoE one's resources when one wants to be em-
phatic. The worth of Bishop Hedley's volumef is such that
the praise to which it, in strict jubilee, is entitlvd is exposed
to be accepted by the reader as subject to some discount, be-
cause of the tank ot the author. Had it appeared anonymously,
however, we should not have hesitated to say that between the
two parts which compose it there is no disparity of excellcDCC
— yet one part is that classic of Christian Thcologyj St. Greg-
or/'s ReguU Pa^Ioralis; the other, aome practical applications
<A Its teachings to the needs of to<day by Jlishop Hedley.
Spirilual insight, a knowledge of human nature, learning, zeal,
■UUI,&.Jh St, t^ulii B. MrnLcff.
\lm £r*a«nn/ ^r, i>tf-t;^thm fit Iht Cnn^f Srnii, ByOia Rl^bE Riv. Jvba Cult^UM
Bcdivy, Ca^e. Vk^LihihE ttf|[ukl^(uR>llii>rar Crecor^ the Cnut- Ne« York: BcoiJpr
VOU ULTLXIU — \%
7o6
iVSw Books.
[Feb,.
i
andp it might be added, a good dofe of bdcpcndcnce, arc
i^uiiliAcaHons necessary for a man who would inaiat upon Ihe
ideal of spLHtiiAl and inidlectual training rci^iiitcd lo fit the
priest for hla woric at present. Bishop Hcdlej' evinces lh««e
qualUipE. ri««ocJaled with ^ command of forciblr and rlegaat
expression, His ireaiise ia a valuable gih lo the siudcnU and
proleisor* of our serainaries. Priests engaged in ihc ministry,
too, will be amply repaid for a study of it. It contatDE velghty
chapters on Vocation; Virtue and Ordination; Puriiy of Soul ;
Sympathy with Souls; Seminary Life ; The Principle* of Study ;
The Study of Philosophy ; The Study of Literature; On Leaift-
ing; The Study n{ the Holy Scripture; Science^ and the Prieitfy
Office.
Concerning the study of liieraiufc and science, to which h<t
attaches great importance, Biehop Hedley offers many practi'i
C4.1 counsels^ some of which have been ^iven by olhcts, but
not ao forcibly, and some will seem almost novelties to riacy
4 seminary graduate. For instance, he recommends that lomc
ivenkncftars of ecclesiastical intcElectual methods he recliHrd by
borrowing from the scicnlista: "Among the gtcai name* of
physical science, there ts not one who his not been difittO'
guishcd by exactness or accutacy. Physical research, whether
chemical, biological, or astronomical, ia carried on in regions
almost beyond the ken of the senses, and depends on the veri-
Itcatton of facts the most minute and difficult to grasp. Guess
work will not do here', general irleas are useless and mi^jfsd*
ing: raeasurcmcnii, proportions, and quantitif* must be ob*
served with the keenest eyesight, and noted with the most
scrupulous nicety. Ecclesiastics, on the other hand, have lo
deal with Uw9, thcorica. and reasonings. Their accuracv of
observatioQ and exidneft of description arc not in coQEtanl
training. But this may easily become a great misforiune. Iti
dealing with men (here are few mental detects which damage
a priest with cultivated men so much as looseness of state-
mciit, a ohildifih weakness of grasp In relating facts, the con-
tusing^ of one name with another, and that ^enoral vagtieneHL,
too often met with^ aa to date$, c ire urns t&ccef^ and localities."
A(;ain, after observing that magnetUm, hypnoiittn, etc, are
common topics, and thai, whiEe no priest is expecietl lo know
all about flueh things^ every priest ought^ at least, lo kr^ow
clearly something about the facts, and be able to lay down
'A^ C/Jurcb'd teaching on these subjects, the bishop continuri^:
1906.] New Books, 707
"But i( he can only simper, utt«r crude negatives, or launch
juvenile exaggeratioD& or CGmmonplace abusp^ he is dishonor-
ing the pToicssion tn which he U bnund <o be an tspeft,"
It 19 a novelty Co find a bishop recommending our ecclcAt-
;iBticB to g^o to the scieniisls to lake u le^eoii in caution anti
sobriety in statement and argument, as vveLl a$ In respect for
the opinions of others: "We can learn two impoftaut leaBon^
on this !iubj<^ct from the ^g called scicnlilic ^f^irit. One ij^, not
to force OUT own pioua opinions upon otherfi; mid ihe second
it, to cultivate gieater cautioti than our forefathers, consider-
ing the age in which we live. Aa to ihc second, it may be
said, without Fear of failing in spiritual Itarning, that in ihese
days piety is intended to be more hard-headed than it former-
ly was. In the age* of failh, and in many l^uropcap countries
mui^h [aier than the agrs of fairh. ihfie was a prf vathng child.
like credulity. This crdulity, tike that of children and unedu
cated persons, was not, in itself, religion or piety, although,
for the most part, it cnme from piety. At best it wa& only
the maledal cause of piety» just as an undeserving brggar
may be the material recipient of the charity of a virtuous man.
To be cautious is not to be leas pious; it is only to be on
the 3ide of not allowing your ptetj' to spread itself over loo
much ground." Elsewhere he carncGlly exhorts [he ecclesias-
tic, and especially the controver^lalibt, to ahsoluie honesty;
never to advance a^ part of Catholic belief what is uncertain;
and, above all, "never to propound views that tend tij swell
what we may call Catholic vanity, without having verified hii
facts and sMured himself of their relevancy." The book would
be vrell worth its price to some of our controversialists, did.
It contain nothing else than Bishop Hedley's advice to them
to ^o only to Rrat-hand sources^
One opinion of the bishop will be challenged, In Ametfct
at least, by many memhers of the hierarchy as well as Ly a
large number of experienced priesls. He writes: "Premature
excursions into the lield of active operations arc a iniitakc,
even if they were possible, in a svoiinaTy course. The novice*
of the Society of Jesus practise catechising the poor. With
•eminariats there would be inconvenience in this." A» to ihe
question of the possibility of such cxerci&efi being combined
with the seminary course — siiizi!ur rjmhuhtti/iii. The experiment
has been made with sutisfaclory rctulis. And ttt c^tv^'v^wv^
is growing that the seminary course shou\d px<aVv&& ^t^q^^ ^w^-
foB
NeH' Sooks.
[FeU
ileal trainmg lor Ihe priest, if h is to send him forth fit to
cope with the work he has to flo. How often is somo youag
priest, immedUtely after hif ordinatioD, utterly inexperienced
in the diPfi:i1i work of catechising and Icdching, ihrust into
!hc miTiagpJTierjt of a Sunday^Echool > And with what far*
reaching consequences? PhyilcUns and nurtcE receive careful
Irataiiig regarding the tact and care itccestaiy in a aick rocoi.
The young priest often enters opon this sacred sphere of hi^
functions whh no knowledge df what he is to do, except that
which reUte$ to the validity of the GacfamenU^ Kesult* teach
eloquently thnt the delivery, once a year, of a dJicourse in the
refoclory, amid a clatter o\ knivt? and forks in active employ*
meat, is ridlcLilousEy inadequate ai preparatory practice In
preachingi To pursue this line of conMi]eia1iQri» would lead to
a comment on the fact that in the seminary cour», either as
it U sketched by Bishop Hedlcy, or as it actually cxUia, ooc
looka in vain for any provision for ineiructing the future con-
feasor in the dilBcuU duty of the spiritual director. " Oh ! but
yon know, our Lord ^Piys,* Dah'tur v^bts.' " To be sure. But
by pressing the text, one might argue from it that we do not
need seminaries at all. Our semiiLaries have to thank BLchop
HedLey for a volume worthy to be placed alongside father
Hog^n's CUrkal StiidUi, of which it may be considered a
compiemeni.
In Wild WA/^f Mrs. Hiunddt
treats UH to another glimpae of
rural EnerUnd. with iti household
ways, its social prejudices, and ita
general outlook on life. A young yeoman of the "comfona-
ble'* cU£% raises his eyes to &n aristocratic you^K Udy who U
unhappy. To prove his love, he descends to accept a menUI
situation in the Jady's family, and thereby euia hSmself off
troRi his own relatives, whose proper pride ia deeply oflcnded
by this conduct, His lady love tries lo gi^e him her aflfct['>D,
but, at ihe last moment^ she find^ the (3»k is impoa?ible— for
her heart ia elsewhcTe- H\b disappointment is eventually solved
by Unding that another heart haa been laviahcd tipcrn him, A
correct, pretty, unpretentious tale thai will please IhcTe «ho
love the primtoset of literaturen
WILD WHEAT.
By Mrs. BLuDdeUn
Tkf TahUl (aj Dec-]: A Leader teyf, ihe place ol Ftjante in
the councils of !he worM is menactd by the faliirE biilh-
rate- Staiisiics arc givcc to show that the Ftcrch are
a decadent people, FurthcriEoic, (ht evil is limikd lo
no isolated ca^c. but U tasting it!i shadow over the
^hoLc civilixedl wortd. The cauEcs are not pbysiolcigical
but moral- The Royal Sta:i*tical Society fetords its
conviction thai [here is no h< pe ibat any nalicf^ in ihe
absence (jf strong and overuhelmjng inoral irtlueacvs to
Ibe contrary, AvjU not be a competitot in the struggle to
decjmate the race. "All over the civiliEed world «bat
is known lo Frenchmen as the tsjfrit dt ptn'eyaffu if at
war with the teaching of Oie CathoJic Ghuich." Mies
May Qiimlan introduces a short senes of ajticles entitled
*'ln Ihe Land of the Celt."
(30 Dec.}: A fiujng appreciatioD of Mr. Wilfrid Ward,
the new editor of The £MiH ^evuw, h given in this
number- Mr. Ward, in the words of Abb^ DfmntI, haa
the distinction of being at once a layman and a thei^logian,
and as a theologian be is broad wilhciul being rash, He
is an exceKent type of the intelligent Catholic, and
should receive the contidence of the roost timid Chria-
tjans, with the encouragement and support of the most
advanced believers.
VubHn R<vmt> (Jan.) ; The first number issued under the editor-
ship of Mr. Wilfiid Ward contains, among the unsigned
articles, three which are probably item the bard ol the
Editor, One on "St, Thcmae Aquinas" sketches the
struggled of SCholafiticJsm during ill* develoj mini, and
the work done by the Ang*lic Doctor. Another on
th« "Functions of Prejudice" uses Newman to il]uRtrai«
the thesis that purely critical work can never y^\w us alt
the truth. In a third, the advanced sheets of a portion
of Father Kent's new Life 0/ M arming are notlcrd, and
LquoEatJons are mado from letters which Mr. Furcell re-
preiientcd as destroyed by the Cardinal oui of respect
for his own reputation* but which are now seen to be
not damaging at aU,^ Mr, Lilly Takes Bishop Bull aa
a type of the Old AnglicaiuBin and Fathtr Dolling as
A type ol the New, and makes ui \i^'l^x^^V^\«% ^&v^\
7IO
FOf!E/Gy PERIODICALS.
[Feb.,
out f>i ihc double sketch, Abbot Gasquet gives bia
imprefsiona of America, and says ihat be ^'camc back to
thU old country feeling that Ihe tulure grealitcES of. ihv
Church in Amcrrca is »seiued/' " tt is patent to ever)?
one thai in the vast new world of giganik underttkinc>,
the Catholic Church is destined to grow to dimrnsaooa
compared with which ihe present is bui the firsT mani-
festation oF the undying and vigorous life within/'
Father Thurston, writing on "The Pj;ctoiiom of FiUlc
^nd the Place o\ the Scoui^tng," speaks of the disputea
between the critics aprf the champions of the tradittooal
sites of the various sacred places, and says ibe truth
probably lies between the vxlreme positions taken by
the two side*. The whole area of the Holy City baft
b«GOm« ovcfgrown with legend. With regard to Calvary
and the Cenade on Mount Sion, the evidence f;ir their
RutbenlkLty is lairly conclusive. The Prstoriuin ii identi-
fied with distinct probAbitUy- In general the disputes
have produced too much warmth on both iEdc«. On«
may underslBiid a Jeeltng a\ soreness an the part oF tho^
whose monopoly has been invaded, but it is hard to
sympathize with their attempt to Ideclify the vindtcaticn
of a particular lopcgraphical theory with ihe <aus« of
the Church itt large- A man is not nceeasarily a Liberal
Catholic because he regards the indulgence granted at
the supposed site of the house of Veronica a« h^iving no
beanng on the question of the authenticity of the site.
Mrs- Meynell's verses '" To the Body " make a beauti-
ful and spiritual poem well worthy of a place In the
"revival number" of ihc Kfvitw^
TMt Crucr&U (Dec): Sr. M. Gregory, 0-5.B,, makej ut able
pka for more metnory work of ibe right kind ; for a
better irainiug and 5[orirg of the memory, carefuHy di*-
tinguiEhin^ thi^ latter proceed from that of cracimiDg to
generally decried. At the request of the Rdllor, a
dialogue on "Ethics and Reliyion" i» tnnlributTd by
Father Kttrkaby, Sj . in which is shown the truths and
incomplcreoesi of Posltivist moraltcy.^^ Under iha titk
"A Phase of Woman'* Work" Frances Zanetti offer*
suggestions s% to the pert Catholic women might take in
social work, and Jamcnis that so few are &t preient en-
gaged in it, the work for the most part being Jeft 1o (be
I906-] FOJt£JG/i FEBIQDICALS.
Religious Orders.^ — Lucy Wyatt Papwonh, M.A., con-
tributes dit article on the "Technical Eflucation and Ap-
prenticeship oF GlyU,'* recammending ihe «siabU^hmeni
of trade claf^es in those clubs lo which the young^ wo-*
men readily come. '* Conccn trail oa in Religious In-
struction," by Dam Lambert Nolle^ O S B,, treats of
thlfi aubject with reference io the work oi the teachcrB,
the mind of the pupil, and the aErangtmrnt of ihe Eylla-
bus of religious inscructtoiiT One point ur^i insisted
upon IS that this concentration should be directed towards
the practical issnes of a Christian lifC'
Jfihbfrt JoHfrtti/ {Jan.): Ameer AU gives the impressions made
iM on faUmites by Christianity, The orthodox. Moslem*
H accept Jc^us as the MesMas of the Jews, but deny that
^M there is any warrant in his teachings for the doctnnc of
^^^H the Divine Sonship. It is an article of faith amor^g
^^^B Moslems of all shades of opinion that the Christian Gcs-
^M pols in their present shape give an imperfEct and er-
^K ronecius view of the life and preachings of Je£iis, To
^H the Moslem Jefius is the unbcg<oitcr\ son of Mary (tha
^1 author refers to this as "Ihe Immaculate Conception").
^K Although the Moslem does not necepi the doctrine of
^K "Sonship," his veneration for the mother of Jesus is
^r profound, The Moslems, in common with the Docetic
Christians, do not believe that Jesus died on the cross.
In an article on the " Century of Changes," Hc-
bcr Newton atTirms Ibai through Ihc £ge which is seem*
ing to 5lrip us of our cherished beliefs, i«c are movipg
to A reoccupation of those beliefs on higher grounds, la
clearer air, with slrenglheniriji convjclion, Henry Jones
asserts that the children of degraded parents can be made
ntuch of, if taken in hand young enough. Biological sci-
ence has investigated, with great thoroughness, the prob-
lem of the ttan^inission of acquired cbaracieristits ; and
the verdict is "not proven."-^— Sir Oliver Lodge discusses
the relation of the spiritual and material worlds, and
thinks that as mind is dependent on iTialFer for its ac-
tivity in this present life, lO hereafter it will probably
be manifested through something; akin to matter, F,
Storrs Turner. aUo writing on the Resurrection, con-
eludes his article with these words: ''There ts mystery,
impenetrable mystery, in the mannct Aod clIi^^v^ "^^ ^?d«.
FOftxrcy Periodicals.
fact; but this docs not nilccl iti reality, nor ouf belief
a{ iu fdUty* Why. then, should those who do not alto-
gether ftgrec about what no one can perfectly under-
stand ffcl bitler against each othpr ^ "
/mUrn^teiprral Journai &/ Btki^s (jar.): Th« greatest danger lor
Drmocratiy, wnEes Professor J. S. MackeoiJe, is that Ihc
people may forget what it means: Democracy dois not
mean a government by majorilki. but rather a govern-
ment by those be^t qualified lo ruk in the interests ol
tlie whole people. la qh article on '* Suicide/* Mibs C-
F. Vonjce states that the princTpai causes, or at lea&l
accompaniments, of self-indicted death ar« gnef. drink,
inaanity, and f^UicHy a weakened sense of the indrvidual'^
duty to soctely: among the preventives she enumerates:
dogmatic moral teaching, the confessional, and a highly
developed sense of individual responsibility. DeliheraK
luJcidc, the writer says, nearly ceased lor a lime at the
GAtahlishmcnt of Christianity, and very generally remained
in abeyance till the eighteenth century, the age of philo-
■ophic doubl, Professor C- H, Toy discusses the vari*
oui influences in univerEity life that make for a higher
ethical standard,- Mr. Waldo L, Cook recommends
that at the next international conference. Article S of
the Hague Treaty be so amended as to place a solemn
obligation on every signatoiy,
l^ Corr^^ptftdiini (lo Dec): Everybody desires peace, thougb
ill do not seek it in the same way. The rich man. to
maintain his home and fortune, guards ihem well. He
does not play the good Samaritan with every outcast he
meets, H he did, his peace would soon be lo9t, FtancC
ia rich — rich in the fertility of her soil, in her industries.
tiut in&tead of trying to pregerve her peace, by guarding
her riches, she has opened her treasurrs to all. She haft
adopted humanitarian doctrines which are gradually drag-
ing her down. Something must bti done- Such ic the
trend of General Kessler's thoughts in this number, ■
In iSq9 the long list of French magatines was lenglhca«d
by the appearance of VAiiion fraKfaht. The writer* of
thin review, radicals at heart, form a separate school,
J. E, Fidao attempts an exposition of the incoherent and
incomplete doctrines of this schcol. He a]£0 aims at
ejiimining their fundamental lends, at fo^o^M^g out the
tqatL"]
FOREIGN PER/ODICALS.
diTCctlon In which thfy are turning, flfid at flficeflsfnlng,
as far d» possible, the contribution of Calboiic social
doctnite to these tenets.
(25 Dec); Cardinal Ferraud deems a new book entitled
ffir^s trop a^bii/s dtNorrt Epopii cclcmai^ so important
ihat he dcvotci a review of several pdge« 10 it. The
wojk is an atcoLHl oi the labors of the French piiesls
and nuns Among the heathens. For the benefit of those
who live under a rigimt where the legislative power is
unified, H. Wetlcrle dpBcribes in detail ihc parliamentary
institutions of ihc German Kmpirc A, i3e Lapparent
discu«5«s ai length the various archaeological opinion;
regarding the colithi^ legend- SulfJctcnt knowTedge haa
been obtained to prove that this legrnd his no founda*
tlofi in reality, but is mcfcly a fable.
La Quinsaint {16 Dec): Some ttanling fitatements are made
by M, Touchard in an article entitled "The Gertnan
Peril and the New Naval Programme,'* The present
state oF French naval forces is said to be sufficient mat*
ler for alarm, " Moral and Social Juitice," by George
Fonficgrive. The greater pari of this instalmciil by M.
Fonscgrive is given over to the subject of conicicnce.
The voice of God speaking to the individual was recog-
nised by the Jews of old, also by many of the pagansr
but in Jesus has received \H fullest sanction. The pub-
lic conscience has created the order of justice. Justice
in the commonwealth demands social hone&ly, and espe-
cially honesty in the administration of governnieDl, The
writer's comments on accepted cheones of legal puni»h*
ment of criminals show his dislike for these theories.
He seems to believe that ivli^ion— the inner liin|;dcm of
God — alone can correct the evils of society.
R^vuf dt riihtcirw ft dt la LitUraturt RfHgUHtt iNov.-Dcc):
The Ahb^ I.oisy. in hij> usual manner of searching criti-
cism, both textual and exegetical. examLtrs our Lord"*
discourse against the rharisees as reported in Matthew
and Luke- He finds that ihEs discourse in its picfent
state has iinder|rone considerable mcdificalicna ; but at
the same time it is one of the most important that we
have as an indication of the jityle of preaching that our
Lord adopted at Jermaletn. Claude Cochin takes up
H series of original roearches into the \^k <^ ^vi^wvii^
7M
Fo/tr^/GU Periodicals.
i^A,
SteUno Colonna. Paul Lcjay continues hts dogmatic
fitu<Iic5 in Czsarius oi Arles^ con&idoriog hii leeching
an the sacramcnls.
Antutfti tit PhiUui'^hu ChrHimnf (Dec,): In a pap«f on ** Pfig-
nt&tlsm," Father Tyrrell concedes ibc value of thi» sys-
tem for the a^olo^i^t- Met;iphysic<il titilh can be best
deduced from life and action, not from conceptions.
We live to Wnow and wc know to Ifvc- None of the
factors of life shauJd be given the priority; all contrib-
ute to a, «ound philosophy. We tnu&t reject nioralitini
and scntimentiliam as well as intelleciualism. Ii ia our
own inner experience, our own life 4nd activily, with
which consciousness comcE into contact. To say that
truth LB the equation of Ihe thing and the inicICcct wouH
s«ein to rmply that the mind repfoducet something which
exists outside itstlf^ but this of course is not the case-
More accurately we should aay that truth is the bar-
niony of our atTirmatLons with our experiences. These
experiences are then the ba^is from which iwe must start
in deducing sure conclusions- Father Hrcmond, in his
article on Newniau, calls him a type o£ the welt-bal-
anccd soul. When religious psychology EecognireA that
the aimple believer is at least as intcE'esting as the cc-
siatLCn then will Newma^n become the classical mapter of
thi& science, for he speaks the secret of all the world.
Hiiving given his approval to the x-olume of Essays
by Father Laberthonniere, which Mgr. Turinai, criti*
cia:ed as a^ain&t the faith, Pere Nouvelle, Superior-Gen-
eral of the Orutory, writes to "respectfully expose th*
reason} which cause me to appeal from the judgment of
condeuinaiion pronouuccd by your Lordship/'
Jl{Hd<i-. The first article Is the third instalment of a se-
ries entitled "The l-Vcnch Calholfcs and the Common
Law," The author answers a number of objectiotis
raised against a p]an of action that he wishes the Catlio-
liCB of France to adopt to win back their rightf^ In
comparing France with England and the United States,
the two latter counlrice are highly piarsed for theii
Christian spirit, to which he attributes the prosperity of
ihow two natiorift. ■■ A Jlullelin of Social Economy," a
contribution of M. Charles Anioinc, amongst other topics
treats of the reduction of ihe working-day to ten houn
*
I
I
1906.]
FOt^r.fGM P£/?IODfCALS,
7>3
in twenty-four, in ita rcEaiion to producilon.'
-"The
Reconciliation of Dogma and Modern Thought" criti-
t:\tzs rather severely both M, TAbbc Dimnet and his
work, C^fh&hz Thought in Conttmporarf England, in
which Fr, Tyrrd], Wilfrid Ward, and other apolcgist*
of the modern £choi>l are dc/cndrd. The writer con-
demns the Liberal School of Theotogy and urge* its
champion* to cultivate the spirit of Vincent of Lertr?,
the oiigmaior of the theory of ihe Evolution of Bogma.
CiviliA Cariolica (i6 Dec): Conlinuing the remflrlis on St. Ex-
pedit. says that history tells ua nothing whatever Rboui
Che saint except what h contained in the Mattyjology
of St- Jerome^ namely, thai he was put to death in ft
city oi Armenia, or the 19th of April- ThiB dearth of
information \s to be insisted upon, because the more
ferment a popular devotion becomes, Ihe greater i& the
danger of creating legends absolutely without founda-
tion, and thu9 injuring the cause of true pieiy and giv-
ing an opportunity to enemies for an attack upon the
Church- The first trace of the cult of thissaint is found
in the eighteenth century. Tn answer to the criticisins
passed by a cleric upon the previous ailicle concerning
St- Expedit, the Civili.4 denies that there la any super-
stition in the mere fact of invoking thii saint "to ex-
pedite matters/' so long as Ihe oidinaiy conditions of
devolioii are observed. There may, indeed, be some-
thing defective in the origin of a devotion to a particu-
lar saint^C may coiDe by an e^iuivocatton^ or fioiQ a
mininterprcled legend^ or by chance, as St, 1-ucy, by a
mere play on words, became the patroneaa of good eye-
i\%tX, and St. Cecilia was made the patroneaE of music, be-
cause Van Eyck painted her in the act of playing the or-
^an. But that does not prove the presence of £uperslition.
Sludi Rtli^hsi (Nov,-Dec,); M, ricderlci, reviewing Chamepie
dc la Sausaaye's manual of religions, pleads for the recog-
nition of the wonderful new science 0/ comparative reli-
gion in the curriculum of scminarica. To an article en-
tilled " Sacrifice among Ihe Babylonians, *' V. Miiri takrtt
as the lirst typet of primitive sacrifice, the offering of food
to the fjho&ut of the dead. Two brief articles deal
with the supcrtliiionA that have cluatcrcd about the cul-
tu9 of St Expcdic, and pTt;se the Pope'a recent ordcT
remaving tbc statues of Eicpedit from the churches.
Of interest alio, aire the notice* givtm to Italian
tran*IaExona ot Debhaye'a le^indtt lia^ia^tr^^ifKi^ aad
of Mfera* HvmnH Ftrsoaaiity ; and 10 a new edition oj
BArtolo'^ Critftt Teehgici. this time wiib tlie approvdl
of the Master of the Sacred Palace, a^^Dc I'cjj, tvho
h«rc writes on St- Expcdil. has rcpublhhrd as a bro*
churc his recent paper in La Raut^m^ N<t9im^U on the
Hoiy House of Lotetto. Dr. Ktinsilc, of Tricburg UoU
versity, hae published, wiih ccctefiiaMical spprovafj ■
xaono^fraph on ihc Three Witnesses pAssjige, stttting (as
Cardinal Vanghati did in i8q8) thai the decision of the
InquJvitLon did not settle the questicn of ihe authentic*
ity of the passat^^i and that the pag^age uaa unkaown
Id the Eastern Greek Church, is misting in the more
Ancient Laiiu MSS.. and originated In Spain among the
PriHCillianist hcictics.
Sfimmeti am Maria Laach (Jan.): Fr. Christian FcECh, S.J.,
begins a discus&ion of certain conceptions of biblical in-
errancy and in&piralionj whith are at pre&cnt ergagirg
the attention of all serious students of Sacred ScriptUTC-
The view to which he calls attention particiilarly is that
which disimguishes between the religious iiuihs contained
in the Bible and the materials adopted by the iafpired
writers to convey these truths to the mindA of their
readers* According to this conccptioir, what the eacred
authors intended to teach is always and ever) whrre true,
but the mode of speech aud the soienlilic cooccptioni
which they made use ol, in order to make their meaning
inteiligibSc to the minds of tho^e for wh<^m they wrote,
were In some instances at variance with fact or male*
daily faUe. Pr. Peftch £ee£ in such difcuE^ions and de*
bates, animated and at times cv<n acr^moriit^ns. as are
provoked by these views, the inevitable acccDipaniment)
of scientific progress. Almost Every epoch- ma kirg achieve-
ment in the field of fcience has caused a storm of
debate- "What conflicts ensued before the CGperna-
can conception of the woild finally prevailed over 1b«
Ptolemaic," One who would render a service to sciecce
may not Gland in defence of a view or theory and say:
"Thus far and no farther." Biblical science, like alt
others, is not static but progressive, ard in cQnficc|ciei
I'
'^FS/C^r PERJODfCA.
7*7
^k oF this conatant advance, scholars foTHctlines have th?
painful experience of beholding poaitiona. which ihey had
come ia look upon aa Ercie beyond all quc&tion, pioven
I erroneous and untenable. Nor H \% lo their discredit
No one admires PUco and Aristotle, Se- Aufiusiinc and
St. ThomaE, Newlon and Licbnitz rhe k«s becauEC Ihey
supported scicniiftc views which are to-day discarded-
Tk4 Nathnai RtvitU! : Opens wilh a judtciout scleciicn and
useful comments on some f pl&odcs of the monlb. "The
Libera) Cabinet — An Intercepted Lester," is a supposed
letter, signed C- B. to the effect that England chooses
Liberalism because the Conservatives had 1o be put
out. and that tlie Liberals liave practically no united
platform on which to stand. " Devolution " ia the name
adopted by the \tH\i Reforoi A($ociation |o cover that
part of their programme which proposes the creation of
an Jrlsh Representative Assembly, The writer on the
subject "Devolution" seeks to expose what JE really
being recommended under this (;a1ch<wciTdt and his ar-
ticle is an attempt to refute a pamphlet, Tht Cnsh tn
Inhtii, lately issued by Lord Dunraven,-^— " ' The
Patterri Lngli&hman ' and His Record '' ifi an atlack on
Sir H. CampbeLI'Bannerman : "with himn" vays the
writer, '^the fortunes of the Empire pass into the handa
of a man whose inteElect is not remarkable, whose polit-
ical achievements will noi bear examination, and who
has associated with hhnself in ofTice, apart from a hand<
ful of Liberal Imperkali&ts, the mot^t cKtraordmary col-
lection of enemies ot their country ever assembled in a
Cabinet," "The Labor Question in the Transvaal"
contains a defense for the introduction there of Chinese
labor.^^—*' Sparks from the Anvil j or, Thoughts of a
Queen" contains one hundred and forty^eight aphori&ms
written by CarmEii Sylva. A, Maurice Low writes
on *' American Affairs/' In "The Uses ol History,"
J, St. Loe Scrachey pleads for absolute truthfulness in
the writing of history, in order that history may be of
practical value- Sir Charles Folleli writtn on "'The
Gi^^antie Error' of Free Trade," And Sir Edward
Flt;igerald Law replies to the article in the December
tkumber of the Nationa/.- " Playing with Fire,"
THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.
BLTFALO, S. Y,, hai betn cho&«n at (h? pUet for thr rext ciIionAl con-
vtnlioTi oE ihc AmcricMn f cdcruliuii of Cmliulic Sucielira. The Ki|;hL
Kcv, C- H, CoUon, D.n,| in i IcUcr Id Bishop McFaul, MUnds > he»nir
wekonic lg lilt CDiiv«a(ia(i in tbete words:
1 am much pi«i»i: ibat ibt convcnilon oi the American Fc^Scrdtun oL
CathoUc S»rifTici ji ta be b^Td in bulfaTo. 1 will eri-opfTair »|] t cbn imh
oar local Fc^?ration in cnalcms the v»J1 of the citfiul xad Uj d«l«g»l«
p1etia4tiT und agrenble.
I Mkc rhjq occn^inn to »> I fftvot this movctncfil of fcdemtint mil our
CmliuEk umti'f sDcitfUet mio one ^land boOj, In unioii Uierc U AlrrneCb'
li tnAblei them lo dccamplish <-ilJ ihe more good fof rcUgion and »oclefy, *nd
AC Ihe nme time inapiHt higher ibouf ht and nobler aeiinn in their «i>ra b*
dividual purpQ^M and aims. 3 wi&h riery succtu to ibe coming convencion.
Several bigoleil pkibticaiian? have recently been broughl lo ibe atlcnliait
of iU? Fedcratjon- A cDmmiilee j» quledy a( ^ork requetliDK publlfhcrt lo
vritbdra^ (beic objetuoq-ilrk *urks Uom ihe markietH
R«V> M» C> MaLone, of Au«irAlJA, has addreis^d a Entef lo thr NMlonnI
Secteiary. which} anionE oib^r inicxsiiJig macLeTt, lUicti Many of our
CailinttL: clergymen and laymifh Ihjnk lliat il id liL^h Uroe to fotm an APIlts-
lian Carhrjlic Fedcrfltion to defend fln<l prctrct our righrs as ctlitrnt and
CnthoIicB, RelL^ivua bigolty ixnl fanatKiim ha^ been quite active beie dur-
ing thn past few yenrt.. I have beeTi cemml»iontd lo wrLte CD you and uk
for a copy *>( the cDniiitutien of ihe Anketkjin Federation of Catholk So<1e>
tie&anJ adj <?lhei llteiaiujc on the subject of ttdeialton.
The rcpofi of Ihe Ohjo SUif Federation dlsclow* that, tbrougb che
edons oi Hit Federation, a virulent levi-beok baa been removed from ihc
public tcbool^ o( A larger cjl>\ The Sciolo County Federation has succeeded
in having ihc Library Commistiancrs of [he new PcrLiiiiDUth X-ibtfiwy io in-
stall a jiuLiibei oJ Catbolit books which Uie Federaf^on Ua$ recoramended-
Thc Lucaa County Federatian rcpoiu tbat Ebrough lis efforia pcimiuion
hii4 bpcn granted ro havp hf»ly Mjiu t!e]cbTa[cd in ihe Werbhau»r j>nd Dtber
public toirective and chaijubje iniiituticini ol Toledo and Lu»i CouhtjT-
Thia ^rderation ^as also opflond a c[u&,\dc against iininoral poplars «ad
theatricals,
Right Rev- F. S- Cbataid, D.D.> fiiihop of lodiaiiapolitp writing lo Mr.
Peier V^alTtaih and eon^raiuUiing him on the iplendid sbowinG made by rbe
Indiana Smre Fpderoilon of CafhoTie Soe<ptie», ha« ihit in uyabouf ihr Frd-
eratt«n ; Uoit^na of Lhi& kind, boldin^ ^^ they do La the manly prokiaion of
the Catholii: fnilH, are moil useful, encoufseing the memlier^ in the profir*'
siod of their faith Aiid the practice of mutual charily and good works. We
tuu^l du what we can tu viicaurn^e one another in holding to the [fublic mani-
feilatjon or our Catholic belief and Co the mufuBl i>ubHi? obicnnnce of ttiue
Christian glitec^ancefr ubKb vjlU unite ui all ai brethren of Jeivi Chrbl. out fl
Sovereign Lord, ™
Through the erTertsof the Butler Conniy Federation, the Hafnilton {<X)
City County has made a taa Levy for tbc tupport of the MBrcjr lloapital, fihic^
I
i9o6.]
The Columbian Reading I/xiom
719
U canfluclcd by the Siilrrs, and the hflspiliil is now btifif, in pari, mniii-
t^ncd by public fu^ds.
Leading meitibtrrE af ibe Fcdvralioci have >vdconicd the pampbtcl on
TA4 PariJA ScAiJofs 0/ JVtar y^ri^ mn aid [o the prftctiCAl dl«cu»lan of ihe
vductcioftal ijuciiian w)ib noii-Cathalici- ^^''ba1 it most ur^tDlly QceiJfd is a
wjje circulaiJan of tbia pamphlrt ihrDughoiii tirv York Sinir, Kv«ri antcng
«fftcc-ho1dFf3) e\fe:ic-A ]it^e]y by CATholif! voTtrs, titttr. are ft* irho haw*
tJikcD the trouble bo |£ec coriccl jnJvrmaciDQ » to the cUicnA oi the rsriab
Scb(Kp1« in the work of providing Iree education for aboul out bundr^d Jind
lifty ibamind children^
* * «
Many praclical book^ fnr xhott ^Peking ifll-imprivpmenr. or a aludy of
Ihc clatiici in l^n^llth CriLiiilitfona, tnty he found in The i:aIi]o);uc 9t Mcibtiw
Hind», Noble Ik ElJredge, 31 Weil Fifteeoib St^el, N«w Voik City. ULc-
LttoOArln of dlffcrcni InngoaErsorc marked at very rpdncrd price Sh Some of
F Iha Otbcr hgtpful honkv for generAl Tenideri »rr here ic^dicAE^d:
//«» Jir S/itJj I.ilffutun, by B. A. Heydrick. 75 teuls. 7»(' Wurtk a/
iVonit, by Dr. RflTcy Hiiatcd Sell, Jl.=5, fl>?r Bn^'^lM Claxnci Britjly Out^
iintd, by Mclvin Hia, $1,25, Compostthti >in*i Hketv^^y by Mivid* L, Rad-
ford, $1- P^nitmAtion and tki L'it ^ dipiiai Lttitrs. by John S> Hart,
LX-L>'i sowncfc A TtJti-hpok OHLititrr Wtifitg^ 75 emta. Common Eriwy
. M ^^fifi'tg AHd Sfitaki-S' br EdwirdS- Elhs, M,A,, 50 «o«, B^d £H£Uih
C^rrtitrd. by K- A, H:iih*wayH 30 cents. Wh^tt ShsU I D^i (50 Pfofiubk
Occupatirmi), %\. lU^' ta Vie Ikt Voia. by Ed. Acnbernt OtI, $1,35.
Jlf:^ t^ Aitf^ii and Hdd an -^W/^«(f, b^ Ur. j. Uerg E»Sn*(in. $1- Jtw*-
Jiitfiiit£ Hud SiiiMi^f t'/ Aitfjuitei, by P. AV. Robcrtion, f i,3a. Jtaaiihf^fr'r
C^mfimdium. by P, W. Rohertion, ^5 mam, T'A* Cri^taidrii Cfimmfrciat
Atiikmttii, %i. Craij^'i .VnP Ce*nmoH SiA^ Qutifi^n £^i H'itA AnnOirtt
$1,50- SMtrrUrf AVic A'awjKnI QutiSiitH Bvitk with Artf^'frt, Ji.jw- Ntnrya
S*fw //igi ScAm/ Qi/itff<ffi fi*\*t vi/A Amnvfx, $i.^Q. /.oo/ Qu^itifm end
Amwff-i (II Voli.) vaxh. 50 ctitti, QiiitJiirH itrtd Its K</, by A- F. 5oulL-
I vfckj tt. E7j/r>r^y/d«f(^ //r{it/ ()0 V0I1.I each, 15 cvnc4. y/^TV r^ Prtfat^
Uri* C/vrf SfTfift £-i.iJfM«tfftrtw. $1, 7A/ S'^ifKft of Stndy, by Jflmet G,
FVboT«> t'- 'f ^ Co/ Ei/^triiit/.hy WiltiAin II- MvadowCfoft, 50 «])lt.
/,Of!w Clvtkal Ch^rartfrj fjri/ji)/ D/anhfi. by F»a.iiklift FriilTcr, Ph.D., jj
f CCDU. J,ocn> Myth^to^Uai CHafavttn B'itflv Di3<»ihed, by Eilward S, Elli*^
M.A., TS CeHU, The i2*^veinfiint iff thw J'tvpU <>/ the O'rri/td Sfa/ii, by Fmn-
<i» N. ThOfpe, i'h.D., (t, /taNdbootii}/ /'arilamtKtjry t'ta^t byFrsnk Wil-
lUm Howe, socenti.
I ThcM book« wvr* wrutrn «xpri«i)ly to enabk the AmbUiout etudoni lo
take up, without the nld of a Icacher, a lar|[c nnmbrir of the tludi» puwucd
in hjjth ichool and cDlkgv. That cbcy cao allogclher lake the place of ihe
inlelliirent irat^hrr ii not aucrtcd.
I Whenever po»i1b1e, the tervicei at a ie««b«t fhould be cnllilcd; an Ob*
' vloattavins of lirnci among olher ihlngi, bping «flcCLed by 10 do: tig. Dul
when tuch courtc ii out of Lh« igui^ktian, the pcip^reKKin of ai Jru^i n pari of
th4 literary lool-chevt above ouLlined will do itiucb towArd liJl^ni; ihir v«id-
BOOKS RFXEIVED.
L«»i7Uhh(. OflfrCh fr Co.. Mnr WJt i
>itfn«i Prince. M, A. py. <a-^.
SU p. OvTTow * Co, Hf* V.ifli^
IlJuiiruludi F|>. kI.'^i Piiv* $4 iiac. Rt^ti, Sf Juli* Cfimtitil i Ua- A%t|
ftiKficia llNotriim*, Nnf Vcrk -
TJuLifunJ i¥fitinji 0/ SI. fatritM ; wit* ^^mHiu-sh. By \\\c MjtE iLti. I>r Hi^-
ArrtilpliJir»f' P'l I'm., in \'u 7(4 \*IM* %^ ^n. fU JtAu fl^/rnl i* R*ui T>*m>HBl
frvLQih' li'^^n \if Ltfdjr I (ar4>an. With tamductlov I7 Cai Jln^l VguftLin- l>.talL-
•OL Pnreti.4a^
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THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
Vol, LXXXIL
MARCH, 1906.
Nol 49 j.
MR. MAU.OCK AND THE SCIENCE-PHILOSOPHY.
BY JOHN T. DEUSCOLL, 3XL,
!HE ntinounccmcnt of another volume from the
pen of Mr. Mallock on th« subject of theisin
ha.£ aroused n«w interest in the author and in
his recent discussions. The readers and crltlcfl
oi hh phila^ophical writings recognise in him
A man groping in a medley of intellectual diflicultics, striving
to unravel the tangl«d ;kein» of thought with a view of pre*
renting perhaps a construci Eve basis for the philosophical justi-
fication oi the grounds of faith> In T^f Rtconstrttcfiett of Kt*
iigiput Belief* wc have a solutiont although our hopes as to \X%
ctrength and cogeni:/ are e&dly disappointed.
The Re£Qnstnt€tion of Religious Belief is a sequel to the
volumes Riii^ion as a Crtdtble Doctrine and Tkf VHl i>/ '^'
Ttmpti, Thc&e prepare the mind for the train of thought ad-
vanced in the present publication. The two former are more
argumentative and cricicai; the latter more positive and con-
atructive. The reader, however, perceives a ct;fntinu]ty between
alL The ground and view-point oF his reasoning^ are the same.
The development in the last volume, far from answering the
purpose of the writer, or meeting the expectations of the in*
telligent reader, takes a direction that sets things all awry.
Rtiifnttruction of Rtiigious Bflie/\^A misnomer; a more fitting
title would be "The Bankruptcy of the Sdence- Philosophy.'*
* TAt KKmutr^aw* a/ KiUgivin tItUt/. fiy W. H, MaJIkIu Nev York: Horpa A
CopyrlK^i- ifs^ Tui ULticoirAav SocKTir or St. Ta'^%. tHi dUotiu
th TiiH STATM as Kiw VOiic
VOL. LXXXII.*— 46
one must have some background of belief with FcgAtd to the
nature of rasu and tht meaning cE ntan's Ejct&lcncc tti order to
live a healthy, civilited^ and cn;ojrjible Ufc. This belief muit
Dot be a goal of intellectual inquiiy^ but a starting point of
prActical judgment and action. But at (he pretent day the old
dominAnt belief in Christianity is no It^ngef accepted. Hence
w« muft justify the old belief by supplying it with new fouxi>
dations. or build up some new belief which may possibly lake
its place. This work is gning on with but little succrit The
failure h mainly due to wrong methods. Tbe present volume
is written to sugge£l a better method.
The bookf therefore, is naturally divided into two parts.
The former is a crtticiain cl the false methods of apologetics
which he calls the clerical and the philoaophlcaL The latter*
which trikea up ihrce-fourths of the work, is a lengthened ex-
position and attempted juscJfication of the new method, which
Mr. Uallock makes his own and calls the method of science.
I
k
The present article is confined to an examination of Mr*
Mallock's theory of reconstruction- We therefore pa*« over
Ikil criticisms of other methods with the remark that he abio*
iutcly rejects what is designated as the clerical method and,
on the contrary, contends that what is good in the philosophi-
cal method is absorbed and presented more completely in the
method o£ science.
Science- Philosophy explains existence as a nngle necessary
process, man being a momentary product of it^ CiocI being the
process as a whole, and no personal relation between the^e ivo
being possible. *' Man and the universe/' writes Mr- Mallock,
" whein studied as science; studies them, neither can have, nor
require to have, any other explanation than that which science
actually or potentially o^crs us, this explanation being summed
up in the principle with which science starts as itE postulate,
and which \i verifies as its last conclusion, that all pbcnomem.
From the stars to the thoughts oF man, reault ffon ft tSogk
system of interconnected causes, and are so many modes o4 a
single undivided substance, which are all alike imn»knc» and
all equally necessary'' (pp. 13, I4),
r
1906.] The S<:iE.\'CE-PiiiLQsoFHY. jaj
^H Science, ihercfc^re, ^i a rcasoaeci aytCtm ol thought, claitns
^||o explain evcrylhirg, TUe vaiious txi$tcii<e& arc mod«& of a
^nglc substaj;cc, which in itself ts unknown to us, is by our
own expenen^c apprehended un<fer ihc guifc of matter '*ju?t
B& ttie movemcntu ol a hand, itself invisible, might be known
^■KTid studied by us if it wore a visible glove." Yet the scieniific
presentation of things does not result in Materialittn. For by
destroying the old nolion ol matter a way is fouuJ by whjth
science can absorb and consoUdaic ihc tracbing of Idealism.
Tile distinctive doctrine of science is that all individual tbii^gs^
Ihe mind of man included, result from a process of which
fnaticr ia» Eor us, the inseparable concomitant, and which de-
velops thens in accordance with a single system of causes^ the
working of which science studies by ine«ns of its material
eqnivalenis. Thus, scieote is presented as a system of pure
determinism. A necessary outcome of the whole scientific
scheme i£ to reduce us to puppets of some sort or other, by
linking our whole lives to the general procr^s of the uuiveise.
And Mr. Mallock bids ua ''accept the fnct that, so long as ll
is tried by ordinary scientific teals, the scientific doctrine ift in-
'ulaeidblc" (p. ixY
The specific doctrines, without which Science-Philosophy as
9, system would have no existence, and would be unable to pre-
ftent us with the conception of the universe "as one continuous
wbf>i«i'" arc certain pecular teachings concerning the nature of
^^matter and the origin and nature of man,
"The old and crude conception of oiatter," writca Mr.
Mallock, " was that of a sabstancc essentially ineit." Now,
however, science and philosophy unite In presenting matter z%
something altogether difTerentn To science matter is never in-
ert in any form or condition, "even a brick being the theatre
of a greater internal activity than any that a philoBopber fs
conscious of in his own head" (p. 34), And philosophy has
shown that alt those famJHar qualities, by which matter is re-
vealed to us and which were once attributed to itself, do cot
reside in itself and cannot possibly do so, but are merely so
ramy etT^cts produced by it in our own consciousness. Of their
cau«e wc do know and can know nothing, " except thai it can-
aoi be whit we commoitly call material," Hence w« <an no
longer hold that matter is inert and dead, or that it is lesa
active than mind, Aa a result, the dclcndcrs of religion can-
73-*
IV. H. MALLOCK.
fMaN
not atUcl< science on the Eround that it deducee life from non-
living matter, and one o( the great gaps or rifts m Ihe scifnttfic
process is smoothed over and di*appear*-
Having dofkc away with tlic division beiweon oiganic aiid
inorganic, the Scicnce^Philosciphy attempts to bridge th^ chasm
bet>vecn menul and organic life- "This is done." says Mf.
Mallock, "by showing man's mind to be a highly composite
product, having in iiself [he workmanrjhip of a hundred million
years, rooted in the universe which It confronts, Bn<^ draving
therefrom its daily cutriment. The doctrine that organic life,
human and animal equally, had its origin in the <in)plc or^jaclc
cell, in a particular way pluys a part in the gradual proccsi oi
fri^olution," The fame rcauh on a larger scale ia acccinplish«d
by the doctrine of conation^ Science- Philosophy admits that
the nature of mind is one of action, eHortn or conaticn, but
asserts that in thSa it Is not peculiar. There ia activity or con-
ation in every pan of the universe, in the breaking sea, in
^npowder. aa in thought. But the conBtmn is in no cbm
isolated. It IS a part of and depends upon the universal eon*
ation of nature. The same \h true of the brain« which \% the
physical side of the raind. lis milliona of cells are in a Mate
of constant movement; but all these movements are part of i
wider process and are all determined by extra< cerebral caufes,
just as a flower is determined by causes outside itsell — by soU,
by air, by sun, and by \\% parent plant or tree. Man and the
universe arc both of the same unknown aabt^ance, and the
kciiyitins which are outside man are constantly being absorbed
jnlo him, in the form of what we caH food, and by the proceis
which we call digestion, Hence, instead of exhibitirg the activ*
ity or conation of the mind as a proof that the mind is inde-
J>endent of the external universe, science ejthibits it as illtiaL-
Wtlng, in the rooac vivid possible way, the fact that the for-
mer is entirely governed by the laiter, and U, Indeed, merely
^^^ a part of the general cosmic proce$s>
^^1 The only point which presents any inherent difliculty ia the
^H break between the brain-stufT and the conscious mind. Bol
^^ science i» ready with it£ sCiljtion. It asserts that tlie **self of
I each of us — the thinking and leeltng— Is a mrctal and materiai
I existence at onfi and the same time, that the conception of
I thought, a^ exifiUng apart from the bram, U like the coAcep-
ICK>6-]
The Science- Philosophy.
■J 21
itudy of hypnori-im, of the brain, and of menial pathology,
which has ^Town up dufing the iasE twcniy-fivc years, shows
thai individual conficiousnc&s and mind ar« by no means coex-
tensive and i*3entical, but that, though without min<l there can
certainly be no such consciousne?^. such consciousness i^ by
no means essential to the existence and operations of mind—
that the larg^er part, indeed, oJ tht menta] life of each of us,
lies as much outside the sphere of the conscious ego as the
process of djge&don doe&, or the growth of our nails and hair.
In this way the chasm which seemed to yawn hetw«en
brain'matFcr. which ia known Co ns in the form of conscious
thought, and matter which is "not yoked to this mysterious
companion, consciousness/' has been filled up by matter in a
third and intermediate condition^namely, matter which is not
''egotistically '* conscious, but which nevertheless thinks Thus
"science presents us with a descriptive record, already prac-
ticaily complete in all its salient features, of a process which,
begtnntng as the niovement£ of BOmti cosmic ncbuU, results at
Jast automntically in the mind and the personality of marr,*'
The existence of necessary truths and the interaction of
DliD<l and body present only apparent dilTicuIties. Mr. MaL^
loch contends that science gives a compEcte answer, Jlie
loriner is solved by Spencer's theory that wh%C Ls ne-
cessary to truth in the individual is the result of accumu^
lated experiences in the race. The individual mind ot the
slowly evolved man has ideas which are prior to its own indi-
.vidual experience i but iE has none wh)ch were not derived in
the first instance from the eKpcriences of its huipati and sub-
human progenitors.
The latter dif^cuUy disappears before an analysis of the
nature of conscion.'^nesii- Mr- Maliock rejects the doctrine that
"consciousness in all its forms is nothing but a cerebral b/^
product, or an epiphenomenon. which registers what the brafO
does, hut ha& no share in directing it." He also rejcctl' tbi;
<loctrine of parallelism, vU., that the changes in consciousocA^
are not caused by the changes in the brain, but are parallel to
theiti' He proposes a new explanation. Stales of confidous-
nwj, he holds, cannot, bs independent things, react on ih*
brain, any more than the brain can act on Ihcm a« thinf>A in-
dependent of itself; but '* tracts of the brain, when they come
14 be in such a condition that congctouanesiS .cincigc,£ from
7 id
W^. Jf. MALLOCX.
lM«r..
tbero like the g^ow ihat emerge* from hot iron, or the flame
that breaks feom hay when il has become heated lO the stack,
are difTcrcnt m rcsptct of ih^ir own inifrnftl behavior, and the
effects which they produce on the olher brain-tracts suTround^
ing them, from what ihcy are when in such conditionf thai
the phenomenon of con^ctousness b absent; and there is thus
tpeci^c interaction between conscious and ncQ-conscioo« bratn-
tr*cl«j though there is none helwcen brain and mind,'*
Scienec^-Philo^ophy, a^ Mr MalJock contends, expLaina
cverych^nj;* Having prepared the mind of the reader by a
positive evpoiition of Us mam doctrines, he goes on to apply
them to the fundamental truths of religion, vit.^ God, free
will, and immortatity.
11.
No argument ia needed to convince the inteJligent reader
that thi4 syatem can lay no ciarni to be called Physical Sci-
ence^ It \t "science br^comln^c raiionaWEed/' and must be viewed
a» a system of philosophy. In the volume under critJcitra Mr.
Mallock has presented a more detailed development of thia
ayalem and commends it as the final and most complete an*
flwer of humm reasoti to the problems of existence. Befoie
passing to a consideration of its value as an answer (o life*A
problems, it is necessary to examine the system as a whole
and subiniE it to the lest ol reasonn
The diatinclive feature of thi^ latent development of tte
Science Philosophy \% Its power of absorbing the cHticiems of
Its opponents. Science, writes Mr. Mallock, far from rejecting
the cnnctusions of Idealistic philosophy, acfuatly absorbs the
whole of them, and, by harmonizing their contradictions and
luraing their paradoxes into platitudes, gives them a cogency
which they never possessed before. But a ireful reading of
the present volume shows that the contrary is true* Science
docs not absorb Idealism; but Idealism absorbs science; or.
to slate the case more exactly, Idealism is the ferment which
science approprialea, only 1o find ihe whole mass leavened
throughout^
Science, says Mr, Mallock, breaks down the barriers be-
tween the morganic, the organic, and ilie mentaJ, to make
"one continuous whole." All forms oi existence are the ftcw*
I906.]
THE SCl£I>!CE'PHJLOSOPIiV.
7^7
brings of the one umvcrsal process. Hence an axiom of sci-
ence is ihat "all thai {% U implicit in alJ that was." Now
miod cxTSts in mdivjduals, and Haeckel admits that the uiii»
wcf*c has specific mental character in its parts< and be appeals
to chemJcal affimties which bear anaLogy to thought and IceU
ing in man. An ea&y inE«rence leads to the exi!ti«nce of mind
and the prevalence of purpose throughout the udverae whleh
Mr Mallock strives to show. But if exitting things are merely
the modes of one unknown auhstance, and if there ia no marked
Hnc of division between matter and mind, how does the Sci*
once- Phi i09O[>hy differ from objective Idealism which Mr. Mai-
loch telJs us ts absorbed hy science? A suggestive parallel to
this development of the Science- Philosophy is had in John
Stuart Mill, who, starting from the sense- philosophy of experi-
ence, ends in Ptienomenal Idealism,
A enticism of the attempt to do awfl.y with the distinction
between the inorganic and the organic reverts ullimately to
an analysis of the new conception of matter. With regard to
this conception, Mr. Matlock says, both science and philoso^
phy agree^ The argument of philosophy is dr^wn from the
theory of knowledge, "Our perceptions," writes Mr. Mallock,
"it is admitted on both sidcB, are all that we know directly/'
This la the doctrine of mediate perception, and on (his point
it is necessary Eo inform Mr. MalJock that phiiosophcrE do not
tgree. The doctrine of mediate perception was popularised by
Locke and is considered a radical error of his psychology, ft
has vitiated the whole cotirse of modern English philosophy.
Taken by Berkeley aa the basis of his work, ii developed into
"■extreme Idealism. If we know only our perceptions directly,
,the immediate object of the mind Is the ideal. In the hands
»f Hume this position was developed into seepiicism, for if we
know directly only our perceptions, what test have wc that
external objects correspond to our perceptions of them } Mr.
Mallock, however^ le content with a phenomenal Idealism of
senslsm. and holds that from this principle we know thsit the
sO'Called qualities of matter are elTects produced In conscious-
ness; as for the cause producing the elfects. " we do know and
can know nothing except that it cannot be what we commonly
■call materiih" .
The sclentlAc argument rests on a fallacy: from the fact
that the mind is active, it is not thereby distinguished from
738
*F. //. MALLOCX,
[Mar.
matter: for matter is active atEo, and the princrplo of conation
irevaih throughout ihc universe. The lollacy is in concludinf
W, because mind is active And m&tter is ftCEive, therdore
tliey arc the sanies A closer atialy^U of these aciivitief ^bowt
that they dtlTer in nature one Jroni the other. Mr, MaUock '%%
facetious ID speaking of clerical jugglery in apologclici, Wbu
juggfcry couM ^urpoas iht£?
The theories proposed by Science- Philosophy to exptaifl
the phenomena of menial life in accordance vvith its lundamfn-
Ut principta rhat the various grj.des of exiMing things oierge
into *'one continuous whole/' ar« no l^se erroneous and fni«>
lending- By devising a new delinicion of consciousness, Mr.
Mallock hopcJi to remove the difTicuIty experienced in tbc in*
teraclion of mind and body. The '* specific interaction between
coTiscious and non-conscious brain-tracts"* is not an answer.
It U only the restatement of the dllUculty In different word*,
with an apparent shour of learning that objures rather Uun
clear? the point at issue. If by phosphorescenoe or heat we
understand mind or thought, how can the Ught or heat be
communicated to the nou-contcious tracts^ tlietcby making thcxu
conscious, if we do not assume, at least inadvertently, that
thought or mind acts upon the brain? Again the dUtinction
drawn between brain-matter which is known to us in the form
of conscious thought and matter wkich Is not " egotistically eon-
sciouip" but which nevertheless thinkSp is based upon an errone>
ous conception of personality. To Mr, Mallock personality It
contitituLed by conKciousncKs, But IhtE is not true. Conscious
fitts reveals personality, but is not its constitutive element.
Personality is correctly defined a& the possession, on the part
of a rational nature, of a principle mi Juris- A man asleep or
in a delirium is a person altbough he is not "egotistically
conscious"' of his own acts. The discovery that tndivjduaJ
conadousneas and mind are by no means co-extensive acd iden-
tical was not made during the last twenty^Avc ycare, contrary
to Mr. Mallock's opinion, although the study of fcypnotism and
mental pathology may have emphasised this trulh and made it
more widespread. A little extuifjon in scholastic phi^sopbj
would have shown Mr, Mallock that these probUms ucre ia
substance discussed and answered centuries ago.
re reader woulH naturally think ihal enough ha? been
said in cti1ici3[[i of a philosophy which appears masqiieradipg
ID the form and g^rb of Physical Science. To pause here*
However, is to misfi the real service of the volume uuder cor-
sidtration. Notwithstanding these glaring inconsistencies, Mr.
Mallock confiflenlly mlorms us thit, "so Long as il is tried by
ordinary scienlific tesU, the scientific doctrine ts invulneiable."
The aim and purpose of his work is to apply the Science-
Philosophy to the fundamental belieTs of religion, t-f>., Codi
free will, and immoitaiity, with a view to ahow how it can
ferve bs the philosophical foundation uf our faith. Here we
hive an illuminative contribution to contEmporaiy apologetics
and unc which proves how utterly worthless the new system is
for the purpose proposed,
J9t. The bEinkrtiptcy cf the Science- Philosophy is clearly
•bown by an exaonination of the solution proposed to explain
Ibo problems of man'^ nature and existence- In point of fact,
we never regard man as he 1.9 presented by BClcncc, Civilixed
racea, says Mr. Mallock, are superior to savages; yet an CG-
aential relation exists between civilization and theism. "With-
out the beliefs in God, free will, and im mortality," he contia*
jicB, "Jiie, in thoa« forins which civilised men value, would be
utterly unable to tlouri&h or persist/' l^y this is meant "tiot
the religious life only, but all the form^ of irreligious life al-
WaJ* Now civilizatton (we still quote from MaJEock) implies a
l^ilef in personality, in a self-origination of action which sup-
^^S€s initiative. pcrfeciibiUty, self-control, and a striving to
form life after high ideals^ These qualities arc revealed espe-
dilly iti the highest foims of human love, In heroitin, in for-
gtvcness of injuries. LiieraiLirc and history are reptcic with
UlustrationE. Unless we admit that man ia endowed with free
will, an explanation is impossible. The very facta eloquently
proclaim that Toan is not a mere puppet of heredity and cir-
cumstance, but can form his own character, can plan hia work,
and achieve something great. "A man's ^Igni^cance for men,"
Mr. Mallock confesses, "resides primarily in what he makea oi
himself/' Even Spcn«t, who reduces men "to mere inter-
mediate Links in oo« vast ayvtcm 9J cauaation/' was at iba
•
i
730 ir< //. MALLOCfi:. ilUu,
greatest pains to show " ilmt he — his own priv;ite 3«tf aod not
rbe seir of DarM^in— was ^r£t in coriceiving And JorTnulAliik|>
th« general theory of evolution, a matter whkb on his owo
principicfi was wholly void o\ £igajticaace,'' Nay more, he cccu-
pied his later years in compiling two rnormous volumes ile-
voted entirely !□ a microscopic biography of himself — 10 ihe
^ifficuities and discouragements h« encountered and bU owa
-strength af will in gvercoming them. But "the admiration
which the world feels for him, and the claims made by blm
lor himself, are intelligible only on tba supposition that be
possessed a free will of his ^wn."
Prafes^or Haeckel tells us that the life ol civilized and csl'
tured men would cease to be civilited, would ceaie to have
Any value, if it were noit coTi^iantly lifting ilielf lowardt the
three ideal rods ol thr true, the good, and the beautiful. Now
** Truth, apart from its social utilities, possesses a value for it»
own sake which, if indetermtnatep ia profound." By truth ia na*
derstood not particular truths, but "the geoeral fftct» cr principles
on which man's whole existence depends," This reverence and
desire for truth has always eicisred; but in the modern devotioa
to science we lind "the best example of that appreciation of trath
which we are now going to exatnino as relaird to ihe belief in
God." A careful analysis of the passion forsdentiiic truth ahows
that "the personal interest in reality, as it exists in the scien-
tific universe, the longing to be brought, through knowledge,
into close personal contact with it, will be lound to contain
in solution a belief that there is in theuni^erae some principi*
or other responsive to the interest which man, itn minute prcK H
duct, feels in it." The failure ol scientifie men to recognise
"a belief in the existence of a responsive cosmic principle as
the true ratwK^U of the scientific passion for truth, conaiMa ia
the fact That science, as at present interpreted, ha» no lan|[oage
in which such a truth can be expressed," Yet thil belief*
which men of science repudiate, is really "the source of lh«
passton by which all their efforts are inspired." Thus, in so
far as the modern devotion to truth is concerned. **the very
science tiy which God rs denied, is Itself a search for God.*'
Without a belief that " the universe is idenliliBd with a Fowr
who ia consciously responsive to our own personal cocsciods-
ness, bcJence, with truth for truth's sake as ita object, would
cease to exist, having lost all possible meanings"
I
I
The Science- Philosophy.
An a.n:Llyais of the notion of goodness tbows Ihat "it has
alw'iy^ been looked on as something which \s, in its c«&tnce,
absolule^which ts above and independent ol the vafarics of
individual taste." The absoluteness of goodness, lis indepen-
dence, "in shon the whole of the special value attached to il,
fail to be nonsetise, and are capable of being intelligcatly stated,
on one lupposition only — the supposition thai there fxiEts a
supreme and universal consciousneesj £uch as the theist m«an£
by God, to whom eertain things are good, and certain things
arc bad, which tnan in his own degree is able to aim at or
reject,"
The belief in immortality, "by extending our lives in the
future, vindicates Ihcir importance in the present."* Moreovef,
ti has an intimate and vital connection with our belief in God,
For "just as belief in God is the cnly logical roTin under
which truth and goodness can be thought of as posse^sEd ol
4LDy absolute meaning, 90 is the belief in immortality the only
logical Form under which their meaning can be thought of as
being for ourselves important." The great argument for im-
mortality^ which appeals to all who have had c^pcHencc of
life, rests on the conviction that a future existence is neces-
sary to repair the inequalities of the preacnL This translates
into itltelligible language the fundamental d«»ire to live. Thus
beliefs in God, free will, and immoriality, arc Indiasolubly con-
nected and are necessary, in spite of the fact that science r^
jects them.
lA. Just as the Science-Philosophy is bankrupt when brought
face to face with the problems of human life, so its condition
U no less deplorable when we examine Ita explanation of the
universe.
Science rests on the unrformily of nature as Lts hasal prinei-
ple, cKistence is presented as "one continuous whole/' indivi-
dual things assuming form and shape through a slow process
of evolution, "All that is, is implicit in all that wft£,'* Hut
mind and purpose exiHl in nature, as science proves to Mr,
Malloc)c*3 BAtisfactlon ^ and furthermore the present disposition
of things must in some way have precKisted \w the primordial
nebula. The important problem lo be solved, is to what was
the nebular p rearrangement due- Spencer and Haeckcl give
the answer* which are in reality one and the same. Spencer
ids (he solution in the doctrine which is the foundation of
^^ads (he
7J>
m H. Mallock-
[Mtr,
hiA whdlc pfillosophy — the iloctHne ihat the power, of which
the universe is a manifestation, le unknowable Aa analytic d
this docirifie and ol the phraseology employed shows ihet lh«
Cftuse of the primary arrangement o( matter and of its develop-
ment was c3iant:e. Matter arranEtii itself somehow, A blind
ihiiOUng of forces and molecular aj^gregates after a lime brought
■bout the requisite condition. Haeckel is more candid and
explicit. He boldly declares that enhance \b the only answer
pOMible* Now L'hancc is tio answer. It is only Ji word to covei
our own Ignorance^ " it is simply human ignorance of a ccruun
psculUr kind.*' " It docs not depend on any absence of oaufial
relationships. It comes into being only wilh an absence of
humtn knourledge," and "is nothing else ih^n a foiraal, though
veiled, confcKvion that, oa their own priiiciples. no answer ij
poafiblc."
}A. Another striking illustration of the bankruptcy of the
Science -rhiloiophy Is revealed by the fact lh4t in attemptins
to do aw4y with religion, it la compelled to invent a religion
of its own. Thi^ i» called '* tiie new ethical monism/' The
baiis of this religion comprises the conceptions formed by us
of the relations existing between each man and (he univeiEc
By the universe is meant "the universal cau^je of whkh all
nature is the manifestation." Thus Spencer and Haeckcl. m
proposing a new religion, are compelled to base its other term
on ** ideal conceptions of the universe," But the conception of
the universe or nature, which science proposes, and which ti
the only true and religious conception of it, is, says Spencer,
" tlie conception of it aa the raanifestalioo of a cause about
which we can affirm nothing," Professor Haeckel holds that
the ascEiption to nature of any qualities inicre&ting and morally
intelligible to ourselves is "an anthropiEtic illufiiort.*' How
then can we think of any religion existing between man and
naiure^of any communion or service between them?
4th. The most telling argument against the Sdence^Philoso-
phy is presented in the admissions of Mr. Mallock when he
attempts to find a way out of theie difficulties. He confesses
candidly thai he is unable to balance his books. Let ue admit
that this is *o, he says, and disregard it, for "it ii only one
of a system of similar situations, tn one or other of which
thought ultimately finds itself* let it only travai far «ncugll
towards any point of the compass/' "There i:^ no speculative
I906,]
THE SCiENCE'PfllLOSOPHy.
733
conclusion in the whole region of specuUtiort with regSTd 1q
which at] philosophers ar« more unanimous than this, that ^11
our conceptions of everything end in some contcadiciion.
This he attempts to show by a criticism of Spenc« and Dean
Man»t, v«ry easy subjects for such a thesis as any tyro In
philosophy well knows. Thus we arc infcrmcd that " nothing
exislB from whose existence this obstinate contradiction is
»bsent." In the p^ot>^e[na of theism '*thc Intellect is in-
competent to Bolvc the contradiction, but is tievcrthekss com-
peted!, with its eyes open, to disregard it." In disregarding
it. "the iTtlcUect, though it ha? no solution to o^er, is merely
doing what it must do ajid what it habitually docs, as the
IteccSSary condition of as^entin^^ to the leality ol anything at
mli.'* The difficulty involved in our belief in freedom "is merely
another example of that InsolLible contradiction which underlies
our conceptions ot everything,'* Jn like manner the difficulty
of bcUeWng in God's goodness is '^neither more nor less than
ihe dJfHculiy which one part of man — namely, his pure reason
-— cncaui]tct&, when man a& a whole is compelled to believe
tnything." Nay more, the conttadietlona ir^volved in theism,
on which the critical spirit fixes, "are merely those which,
taken in their Lower connections, the human animal accepts
without question^ in ordtr to think at all," Rut though we
cannot <olve or even lessen the dlfiicultlcc "by any exercise of
the pure reason, we have the highest warrant in pure reason
itself for disregarding them, if the practical reason giveii us
grounds for doing so; and the practical reason^ as we have
seen, is in this matter imperative."
Such Ls the Bcience-rhilosophy aa set forth by Tt$ latest
e]cponcn.t. Mr. Maliock, in the present volume, has sounded
Ita death-knell as a system- For his candid and detailed ex-
position he d<;£ervcs out gratitude. Whether he writer as its
sincere advocate, or merely adopts this method of testing the
validity of its principles, but one conclusion can be drawn, vix.,
be has shown in strong and vivid language the inherent weak*
ness of the Sciance- Philosophy as a system of reasoned thought,
and its utter inability to answer the probitms of man and Ihe
uniirersG- As a philosophical justllicatlon of the foundations
o4 belief it breaks down completely and confesses its own de*
fea.
I
I
I
ARY did not keep them long waiting. She died
before any one anticipated^ sighing her b£t
breath away Hke a tired child. A± fbe had
wished they left her in the little tunny church-
yard by the river amid the fields. She hud
been lo happy there, she said, at the place where death wai
to cut her young life short, happiest of alt in lho»e tast weeki,
when Uugh hardly left her side, and Lady Anne was withJa
call night 8nd day.
When it was ail over they went back lo Ireland together.
It WAA ft moit Eilent journey. Thh (nan with the frozen fa<:e,
and the eye» which were deep pits of shadow, was further
away from her. Lady Anne felt, than the girl they had buried
ycBterday. Again she felt the [imitations of her power. For
A time, at kn^t, no comfort was possible.
" Tbare it nothing for It but time and work, time and work/'
ahe said to herself, glancing unobserved at his rigid face as the
flying train bore them further and further from Mary^
No one could »y that he did not throw himself into hJI
work, but it was with a ditlerence. The bright eageroeu o4
old wat replaced by a restlesgnesii that gave him no peace.
He worked like a hundred men. As the weeks passed the
restless energy sufTered no diminution. He had always beta
thin, with a graceful sienderness which became his yoeiih; now
be was haggard. A glimpse of ht« pro51e, seen against aa
evening sky, moved Lady Anne almost to teara.
Ue was to be found no more in the drawing-roont ol
Mt>unt Shandon, nor in other drawing-rooms that had brguo
to open to him ol late. He seemed to seek relief in physicii
•xhauntion^ Once or twice Lady Anne came upon biin in the
winter gloaming, working with the men who were keeping the
I!£X lADYSmf.
channel clear where (he bog-waters were earned away to the
wa. Ii wav 4 wet winter, and the new banks were sapped with
the TftLD &nd fell into the channel in places. He waa doing
■pade-work with furious enerey* in the water to his knees,
bare-headed despite the rain.
Every one was sorry for him, even bis old enemy, Colonel
Leonard.
"Poor lad T poor tad 1" the Colonel said one day, when he
bad come upon Hugh in a narrow boreen. He leant down
Irom hU horse to lay a kindly hand on the shoulder of the
young CDan, who was walking. "Poor Jad t poor lad! I wish
you'd come and talk to my wife- She'd coi))fort you jf any
wcmaa could/'
"I shall perhaps some day/' Hugh responded with me-
chanical gratefuJnesv "It is very kind of you, sir,"
The Colonel h&d an Idea that Hugh's burning eyes needed
the slaking of tears, and wcot on muttering to himscH : "Poor
ladl poor lad I'*
To the surprise of many, Hugh had entered ioio poEsev*
•iOD of the house which had been intended for him and Mary.
To be sure the wooden hut which he had once occupied had
beet) turned to other uses in his absenc:e^ His mother siill oc-
cupied a portion of the Chalet, and Lady Anne had suggested
that there was room for him there if he would. But he had
declined to be with his mother, which some of those who were
not in the secret thought unnatural- Lady Anne knew better.
"You would really like to occupy the-— the new bouse?"
>he said. She had called it The Neat in the days when she
was preparing tt, and the foolish, tender name had been on her
lips, bad almost escaped them. "Won't you be lonely?"
"I aban't find it so. I shall only sleep in it. All day I
shall be busy with my work."
" Ah ! " she aaid, looking at hfm kindly. " And work must
be the way nut for so many of un, When Pandora let all the
evils fly out into the world It was not Hope remained at the
bottom of ihc box, it was Work."
He waa not responsive as he used lo be, and she felt sud-
denly dull and didactic.
"Then t shall have the house prepared for you," she &aid,
and was turning away, but came back to aik him it he would
have his mother to keep htm company.
736
Her Ladyship.
[Hit,
" Not yei," he an&>wcrcd. almost rougbly- To be sure Wl
mother had never lovad Mary* had told him ch^C tthc hoped
the rairrid^e would never be, Elide knowing, poor wocun, from
vhaC quarter the intervention was to come. H« could not Jor-
get, not jusi yet.
His mother was almost aa miserable as Huffh himself. Mn4
bor aadncsE was matter (or concern to those kind neigbbor*,
Mrs. Mf^ntmorency De Renxy and the Misfies Burke Vandaleur,
w^^o were the happiest elderly ladies in the world in the
ahelt^r of the Chalet, and being so happy were fain to r&diitc
kindness. Besides, Mrs. Randal did not recent pAtrorage, ;tnd
never lorgot Ihat it was an acddent of the world's £Toriiki
which had placed her in the same ark a) thote higbly-boni
Udies;.
"Poor soul!" daid Mr*. Dc Renzy to Lady Anne, "ihli
trouble about her son is really weighing on her. We were
pUyiagf a game of Twenty-Five last night and iherc was a
shilling in the pool. She was twenty, and she had the ace of
hearts in her hand, yci she lei nac win with the queen of
tfumpsn So keen a player^ loo. It U very Bod/'
plugh had been to London W a few days on bustness, and
during hU ab^«^ncc a great house-cleaning was made. He bad
gone into the hou^e without allowing much preparation to b«
made for him. Only by a man^BUvre had hi« bedJinett be«n
aired. Fortunately it had been a tine summer, and the new
walls had dried better than might have been expected. The
mJther had prophesied rheumatic fever u the lean of ibc ^tU,
but Hugh had nut contracted even a cold.
Now he had been in residence for four months, and the
bouae had grown dim and dusty under the ilack rule of Uiddy
Murphy, who had taken things easy, finding her master an uo-
exacting person.
On the day of his departure Lady Anne had gone through
the house with his mother. Outside the rain dcECended in
torrents and a wet wind latltcd the windows and cried in |he
chimneys. The air smelt damp and cold. The grates were
rusty. There were patches of damp on the outer walls. The
room? were unswept, untidy. Plainly Biddy Murphy bad been
DO better than Mrs. Randal's opinion of her.
Lady Anne had planned the house in a spirit of— was tt
Jove, or was it remorse/ It wa£ charming in every detail, OA
I
I
I
I
I
I
i
I906.] NER LADYSmr, 7J7
ideal house fot a ybung hrtncymooning couple, all gay rose-
bud chintzes And pretty carpets and old-fashioned furnilutc.
The rooms wcr« comfortably lovv-ceitcd, and the diamond -pane d
casement windows had each it9 window^seat whence one might
look over an earthly paradise of mounlaJn and wood aad sea.
But to-day alJ the prettinesf was blotted out^ It was
dfeary ; as dreary as it was in Lady Anne's heart. In the
bedroom which should have been the dead girl's, there was 4
book lym^ on the table on which the dust lay thickly^ Lady
Anne was familiar with its cream and ^1d cover that bore
an allegorical design. It was the " ToerTis " which Mary had
failed to understands Plainly the book had not e'^^'^ ^^^
owner delight for many a day-
The bed, heaped uncomfortably, looked as though some one
h^d filepE outside it. Aft they gazed about them Mrs. Randal
noticed it.
"He flung himself therein his clothes last night,'' she said,
"t expect the despair was on him* the poor boy. Isn't St
a wonder he wouldn't be getting better? It's lour months
now since 5hc died,"
They went on upstairs, pursuing their dreary pilErimage.
The room which Lady Anne had designed for the nursery was
dreaneat of all. The door had swollen with the damp, and
would hardly open, When it had yielded to her strength the
room smelt dumbly- It was unfurnished- There was dust on
the floor and the flying loves of the wall paper wtre die*
colored with damp. The rain came down through the chim-
ney and plashed dully on the flowery tiles of the hearth.
Lady Anne shivered. The twitight was in the room now, and
«be fctt in it the presence of a little ghosi, the child that had
never been born,
*' A few tires will make a wonderful improvement," Mra
Randal said hcrptfully, as they went down (he stairs. The
, poor woman was happy in being permitted, Jn her son's ab<-
I fence, to see to things for him. Sh« had felt the estrange*
tnent bitterly-
"The ocean between us couldn't be mucb worse," she had
' confided to Lsdy Anne. " If it was for^vtng me he was I'd
be going out of it to Honor. She's wearying for me and the
I children, I couldn't think he'd be so unforgiving. JIc was
I Mich a soft little baby, such a ioving boy, Lsaslways, it i^n't
I VOL. LXXXtl.— 47
73^
Hex Ladyship.
[Mi
exaetlj' unforgiving; 'tts somelhiug he can't help bimtelf- He
fe«J« chAl I Thctight Utile of her when she WM hcfe, and it
comes between u?. Sure, "li* the weary world T If *rc ooty
knew, we'd be different often."
"Ah, yesi we'd be dJiTcTent often," Lady Anne Kt^hcd to
response. She had no comfort to offrr the mother
The Ares did, indeed, make a difference. When Lady Anne
came a few days later Ehe found prodigal l^res butning is
every loom. Although it still rained the windows were open,
and a sweet air came In. Everything had b«ca swept and
garnished. In the little drawing-room there V4£ a bovl of
laurustinu^, monthly rosc£, and iessamiae. There were snow-
drops in little vases, and sweet -smelling wall-flowers in a lot*
tfc jug.
" Ke is coming home to night/' satd Ihe molhtT- "I am
cooking his dinner myself, *ot I can't trust that Biddy. May-
be he'll ask me to sk down and eat U with him. I don't
know whcQ he h^u looked at me even."
" 1 think he wilt come back to himscH presently/' Lady
Anne said. " He has not bttrt. the same to any ol us- But
the greaiesi grief passes; it js only natural/'
" 1 am rnnning arrosfi 1o the ChLilel for some things 1 want*
Won't your Ladyship ait down by the fire? I'll send Biddy
up with a cup of tea for you and make it myself. Dear ma»
will the rain never leave off?"
Lady Anne sat by the Are and sipped her tea after Mrt.
Randal had left hern Once more the house looked sweet aJid
homelike as she had planned \k\ if only It were not to be
empty forever of those she had Tiieant to place thefcT
A thrush w^s singing outside the window on a drenched
bough- There w^ a new pQignancy in the song to her luind.
If Mary had not died, she aaid to herself, the song would
have been less beautiful, more tolerable. Certainty she. Lady
Anne, was changing with the times, lix the old days the had
not found luch meanings in the song of the thrush.
The door opened anJ Hugh Randal walked in. He stared
ai Lady Anne, and for a second hi» sad face Ughtened. It
was pUm that he had expecied to find an empty room.
He put dawn the big which he was carrying, and came
towards the fire.
" Ah/' he said, looking dowfi at her. "So I am eniertaio*
kng angels unawares."
I
1906.] Her Ladyship, 739
-Wit clochefi flteamed m the warm Eflow of the fire,
"Whal have you been doing to the huuse," he asked, " be-
sides being in it^ It ib habitable for the fivat time/'
"It U only the ^r«s." she said depTccaiing]y ; *'the fires
and the broom ^nd duster. Biddy Miirphy has been neglect-
ing you. We must fiTjd you a belter person."
"Wei Have you been seeing to iny house-cleaninE. Lfidy
Anne?"*
*' Vour mother has, 1 have bcert here once or twice. Hadn't
ydu better change your clothes? You arc very wet.*'
*' It ia only my overcoat. I am quite dry underneAth,"
He took it olT and put it on a distant chair. Then came
back to her. The winter twilight yfas in the room, but the
glow ?f the ^relight lell on hU lace, and she fancied it had
lost §ojneEhing of the hard despair which had been it^ ejipres-
■ion since Mary died. Her heart leaped up with sudden hope,
a hope his first words seemed to justify.
''! have been Itnding my way out." he said, "I am going
to face Ji(c again and rake up its burdens, 1 have been helped
to it — standing by Mary'* grave."
"I am so glad,*' she fiaid, and there was a thrill of glad*
nesa in her voice. " I am so glad. The last thing that she
would have wished would be such suffering for her as you
have endured. She was so^-so^harmless. Suffering tike yours
Is not her due."
"Lady Anne/* he said, with startling suddenness, *' I have
made up my mind to go away. Vou mu&t release me- 1 am
•orry to go* beeauae I was useful to you; but tt can't bs
helped. I shall do what I can for you in America. If you
wish mc to work for you there — there is a wide (leld. I
have another offer, but I shall put it on one side if I can
•till be of service to you."
Her heart had fallen suddenly. She felt it fall heavy as
lead. He wa± going away! Was lE poasible ? Was \\. that
that had brought the softening to hlfl voice; had restored the
iuiity lo big eyes? And if he wished to go, could she keep
him' Suddenly the salt and savor seemed to have gone out
cf her life. He had interested her profoundly, she aaid lo
herMelf> Interested her profoundly. Life would be flat and dull
without him.
" 1 am going to take my mother and the children to America,"
h< »ld. " Wc win all settle there. U will be best, Vou must
■
F
740 Hem LADYSNiP. [Ma^,
DOI think me ungrateful, forgetful — I can nrver forget. But
it's bcsl fof me to go; il may be best for me, Lady Anne,
to glv« up your work even; I have another opening- Vet if
you 4«k me lo do it, I must do it — I owe you more than
that,'*
Her face wa> in shadow, She had turned it away from him
Al>d wst resting her cheek in her hand. There was nothing in
har Altitude to let] him what she felt,
*'1 never ought to have come," he broke out with sudden
pftMJon. " Only — 1 could never have thought that I would
forget the difterence ihat lay between me and Lady Anne
Chute. In time I (orgot eve rytbing--e very thing but you. 1
didn't knaw* indeed I didn't, that you were tilting my heart
B> a woman, not as an inaccessible goiidess. and Ihat mutt
mikc my excuse. Only when that poor child was dead, whom
I had robbed of the happlneu that ought to have been hen,
did I rvftlite what had happened lu me- Why, from ihc lirn
hour I saw you nothing mattered to mc except you. 1 found
doe, harnjlesa names for It, hero-worship and beauty -worship,
loyalty and devotion. But all the time it was love. Tb«
tailor of Ardnagowan wa& in love with Lady Anne Chute-
Wai ever anything so ridiculous?*'
Sne did not move or look at him,
"Are you offended?" he asked. *' But remember I never
asked anything back from you. I was content to serve you
and belt] your presence. How could I help loving you? Any
man would have loved you, And now 1 axn going away. E
owe that at least lo Mary, to go away and Learn to do with-
out the del^eht of your eyea and your step ai^d your voic<.
Vou flee that t mu&t go. Afe yoj very angry with me f "
"When do you go?" she asked in a low voice,
*' As soon as I can finish up things here. Let me go atto-
gether, Lady Anne; don't a&k me to keep on your Ameilcan
work."
"Very well," she «id, -' I won't ask you."
The wofds were hke the knell of all hb hopes. Y«t h«
was glad h^ had spoken. He felt relieved. It was all over
between theoi- )d time she would remember ooly hi» intotcr-
ablCi his ridiculous preaumplion.
He stooped suddenly and kissed her down-bent head. Then
h« was gonv, and (he was sitting atone in the llrcUghu
I
I
1906]
Hex iMoysHrp. 741
CilAPTtR XXV,
THE RlNOlNa OP THS 6ELL,
Lady Anne went home by hcf^cIF in the rain and th<
lUfkness, It wss the first time hi^ consideration had failed.
He loo was somewhere out in the nigbt and the rain, lor when
he left her she had heard Ihe housc-door close behind hioi'
She was not afraid of the darkness. The people were so harm-
less; and in the tumult of her thoughts she would have for-*
gotten to be afraid if there had been dangcr.
When she left the house £hc could see over againEt her the
lights q{ Mount Shandon, But il was necessary to make a
ditour aincc the channel (rom the bog lay betweenn She held
her doalc about her tightly as she hurried along. It was rain*
ing less now, but the high wind in Ihe wet branches drenched
her as she passed beneath them, A wild moon scurried through
masses of gray and pearly cloud, now showing her face* again
hiding it. The night was full of noises. Behind Mount Shan*
don the mountain thrust up its dark cone into the sky. One
Jight was visible half-way up, steady as a star She had a
fancy amid the hurly-butly of noises that the mountain
rumbled and roared as though in the grip of an earthquake
£ut to be Bure It was only fancy.
The new young footman gazed at her in dismay as she
Ctme into the hall, talfing •^^ her wcl cloak. The rain streamed
from her hat^ She was aware that a little pool was forming
about her where she iiuodn
"Never mind, Jam^s/' she said» as he look the cloak from
her. "We arc used to rain and it doesn't hurt us."
"Your Ladyship must be wet through/' the mJin said with
concern; "and, if you please, my I^ady, Lord Duntaverock
has come,"
"Ah, he is in the library?"
t'.- -^Vcs, my Lady. Hv has been here jome lime. Mlks
Chevenix is with him,"
She went upstairs and cbangedt putting on her dlnner-drets
without ringing for her maid. H«r black curls took the least
ionount of half-dressing possible. When she had put on the
dre»s which had been laid out for her — it happened to be a
ptnke silk which was very becoming to her — ah« looked at her-
J*a
Her [.ADYSHiP.
[Mir.
\f tb« time the dismay v
't lf'>tng WAS trk itbcyAEice-
Mlf tn Ihe gloai. Her color was mote ihan usually brilliAnl,
btr lipf tofi And red, h«r eytft bright,
which the hid heard of
of hit held her mind to The exclusion ol aJt fUe. She did not
know Homi »hc felt ahout it yet, whether it shocked or de-
lighted her. She did not know what ahe wa^s ^oing 1o do
■bout it. There w»a Dunlflvcrocfe — and — there were all *ort»
of thing! to think of- He had been quUc right \*> tnake up
hi» mind to go away. Since he loved her, and sbe knew it,
it would not be possible to return to the old happy and aira-
pie reUt ions-
There wa6 a change in Lady Anne Her eyes had been
lifted 10 look outwards tike the eyes of a child- Now they
looked inward, were introspective. It was as well that Sut-
elille, brushing her nii&1re&&' obatinaic cufU, had rot had the
Opportunity given to ladies' maids to study their mistress^
•xpresaioni In the glass. This evening Lady Anne's face irouM
have been tell-tale,
As she finished clasping her rubies about her neck Sut-
cliffe came in-
" ] (lid not knaw your LadyfihTp had returned till Jamvt
told me," she hegan^
"Never mind, Sutdi^e," Lady Anne fiaid, turning from ihe
glaM. "I found that you had put out my dress, and as 1
had to change f thought 1 might as well dres^ for dinner-
There are all my wet things to be dried/' indicating a hup
of garments-
" t wifih your Ladyship had rung for mcn" the tong-sirfTer'
ing SutcIifTe said in an Injured voice. She was always being
scandalised by Lady Anne's ways, so diHerent from what she
bad been accui-iomed to in the English families wher« sbe had
Uved.
" If it wasn't for drying her things* and mending them when
she gets them tattered on the briar* and thorns, she wonldrt'c
need a maid at all," she complained, "It is always; 'There,
SutcUffe, that will do': and 'Please don't bother about it any
marc, Sutclifle/ She's no credit in me, her Ladyship isn't, foe
she won't give the lime to Ux me do what I'd Jike fof her,"
Lord Dunlaverock saw nothing amits with bis caasin whea
slie catno tn looking like a dewy dark rcoc, and boBing a
Tt\comc on him. As she cAtoc in MU« 'SiasU gor up and
went out gI ihc rooin^ leaving them together.
^^ " II 19 a sight for sore eyed lo see yoa," she said, in a
' ~brfg:ht, exclled way, which struck him ££ something n«w \a
Anne, Anne had always beeg placid, ahhr-ugh enefgeiic,
|H " VcB ; wc haven't met since the Humfnei^not since you
le£l me ai Ki)kee and chevied mc of your company. To be
sure you couldn't help it, thai poor ihingi I hope Randdl
ii bearing his grief better?"
1^ "He is bearing it better," abe said, "He has been away
'for the last few days. You've forgiven me about Kilkee? ]
was gUd to hear that Amy Mellor was there and some of the
other cousins. The cousins were deLighlcd with the haphaz'
ard ways of the hotel. They said ihey liked w^^iting on them-
velves. And what has brought you so suddenly. Dunlave-
rock f '•
^p " I thought 1 had better comcn I wanted lo talk to. yoit."
"It is alwayr^ belter to talk; wrilmg is so poor a i^ubMi*
^ . tPte. I am so b>lad you came to talk Instead."
^^ She glanced at him with her beaucUul frank kindnesft, and
something in ihe way he was looking at her surprised her.
He «as fcehng that she was not a woman to be tightly relin*
quiahed. He was going to relinquish her for something far
dearer, yet he was surprised to find ihat ti cost hiro a panp
after all. although he would not have had it otherwise,
'' I wanted to tell yoci about Ktlkce. Anne," he aaid. avert-
ing his gaze from her and staring into the heart of the lire.
Where they were sitting was dimly lit by the branches of wax
candles on the high manteUshelf above their heads. His face
in the lirelight vus less lean and careworn than of old, yet at
the tnomenl his expression was an anxious one. " At Kilkee.
before the others camc^ I was necessarily much with Mrs. MeJ"
lor We were in the s^me hotel, and cousins. We held apart
for a Cin>e, but i1 could not continue."
^k Anne had shifted her position, had taken up her fan and
nVni holding it as a screen between her face and the Arc.
^fram the shadow ol the fat] her eyes watchrd him.
^B " Aod" the pat in. seeing ihat he paused, *' And*— yon
found out that what I had said about Amy was true, that the
was not the sinner but the victim i you learned to forgive her,
or rather you ioucd that there was nothing to forgive.'*
744
Her LADYSHtP^
[Mar.
"How did yoo know?" be asked witb a nalv^ wonder.
which ev«n ai thi« moment ^hc lound amusing- " Di4 Amy
l«l] you ? ■'
"I have heard noihrng froin Amy. I guessed it/*
** How clever of you* Anne E " he $^iJ with simple admira*
tion. "Vee, I found out thai the poor child had been forced
into breaking her ward with mc and marrying Jame? Mrllor
by her mother'^ ariilices- Lady Sylvia had borrowed money
in large suma from James Mdlor- She made her daughter
believe that he was a merciless creditor, that hr? demanded hi«
money with interest, that only the sacrifice of herself could
avert disgrace from her mother. She was very young, a ruert
baby in an nnficrupulous woman's hands. She discovered
afterwards that the money was owing indeed, but that Jamei
Meilor had never asked for it. That would have been obvioui
to any one who knew him. He was incapable of using the
mother's debt to force the daughter's inclination. Vou and I.
Anne, are not likely to talk of these doings of Lady Sylvia
Hilton. Poor Amy, poor child^ to have had such a mother."
''Amy has come out of it pure gold. There are many whom
such an experience would have destroyed. Not Amy. If bef
mother broke her heart it w^s only for God to remake iL"
"Amy told me at Kilkee," he said, "You can't imagtno
what a burden it lifted olT my heart It bad been so un-
natural to hate Amy (or all those years,"
" And — *' Lady Anne's eyes, bright with expectation, waited
Cor the next thing be should have to tell. ^i
"1 went home and thought about \\. Anne. I have been
thinking about it for four monlha," He did not catch her
flmile. *' 1 have been thinking of it for four inontha. AddCp
do you care at all? If you care, there is only one course open
to me."
"Why didn't you come before, Dunlav«rock ? " she asked.'
"Why didn't you come before? Why did you go tn suEpenM
and leave Amy in au^pensc all thoGC months > Wasn't it
lucky, Dutilaverock, thai I gave you ^o long a probation, for
I thirit you would never have loved any one but Amy?"
"Voo don't care, Anne?"
" I care a great deal that you and Amy shoald be happy."
, "AhT And you give us your bteasJng ?"
" I give you my blessing.^'
I
I906-]
N£/t Ladyship.
74S
There wa* a sudden beating of rain against ihe window,
and the wind cried and clapped about the house,
"Then I shaJl go to Amy lo-morrow," he said. "You
forgive me, Anne? "
*' Dear Alastair, there is nothing to forgive."
She need not after all have been so anxious lo put oul of
lier thoughta that anniversary in September on which her
answer would have been due. Now the significance of ih< day
Ibat was never to dawrt was lost, swept away as though it had
never been. She would be able to dance at Alastair's wedding
with a lighter heart than if she had been the bride- She was
going to live for her people. For a moment she thought oi
reigning alone with a kind of [onely exaltaiion. Then she rtf-
membered that it would be her duty to marry, so that the
name should not die out- But at lea&t she had a breathing
space. She could put the consideration of marriage away Irom
tier for a year, two years, three years, September no longer
held a menace for her-
While Lhey dined lightning Jla^hed through Che unshuttered
windows, and was followed by a peal of thunder
"Uncanny weather/' Lady Anne said, "I am glad nonfr
of us are on the sea lo-night."
"They say there have been rumhlings heard in the moun-
tiln, Anne," Miss 'Stasia said. "You have been offending the
^iiit of the mountain by draining his bog5 — so nome of the
old people say/' '
"Ah. they are fuil of superstitions."
"Even if thcEe were a landslip/' Dunlaverock ^aid con-
tentedly, "Mount Shandun would be out of its path,'* ;
'*And there has never been a landslip that people remeRii
bvr/' Lady Anne said, "They fancy the rumblings. It is the
incessantly high winds, I could have believed the aame this
evening, only chat it was not possible."
They had a quiet and happy evening together by tha
warmth of the lire, though the wind increased \t\ fury, and the
rain hammered the panes- Miss 'Stasia sat at the piano, play-
ing old "pieces," singing now and again, in a ewecC cracked
voice, old 5ongs^"My Mother Bids Me Bind My Hair," and
"She Wore a Wreath of Roses/' and many another, while
Mias Graham sat beaide her, sewing by the It^ht from tho
piano candles. Now and again they t^lanced towards ihe couple
At the fire, flitting near cogether, talking in low, interested
746
Her Ladyship.
[Ml
yok«i» at though they had beea the lovcra the onlooken be-
lieved th«m to be.
A ^vidclcn bla^c of wicid naught the hou«e, inoreftscd in
force, roafcd like aome terrible, elementary living cpe»tu«,
forcing ihem d) to lUteiu MUs 'Sta^ia'^ hjind fell frocn the
pUnEk
"It sounds like another Big Wind/' chc eafd. tumtnf: ■
white face to the two at the fire^tde, lakJng an unaccounUihle
comfort Iroiu the fact of Dunlavcrock's presence; that then
wa$, a$ she would hare put it herself* "a gentleman in the
house/'
"In the Utt Big Wind/' Lady Anne said rUMorinKJjr,
" Mount Shandon did not even trembTe."
"I wag in Wharton Street then/' MUb 'Stasia aaid. " Uy
wbdow was blown In, clean on to the floor Mtfl. Cronin
thotight 1 was kiUed, I couldn't get the door open for a E^nK
time to get out. %nd my room wai full of twigs and dates and
Bea^Band, and all manner of things the wind had earried with
it I shall never forgrt that night."
When they went to bed it was impossible to sleep for ibe
tumult of the atorm, Lady Anne had n^ with to sleep. More
than the excitement of the storm was tingling in her veint.
She sent Sutchtlc away after she had taken off her dinncr-
dresL She wanted to be alone. When ahe was alone ibe
walked refillessly up and down the long room. She had been
listening to Duiilaverock's lover's raptures. It amvscii aud
touched her that he should pour them into her ear. It wia
fortunate that she had no vanity to be hurt. All that com-
pact betwaen them w^s for Dunlaverock as though it had
never been. He had forgotten even to remember \\^
His one regret was that Amy should be rich. He wiilied
ahe had been poor, humble, so that he might have shown the
greatnc^E; of hi? love, He was romantic, sentinterital- " And
to think/' Anne »mtled to herself, "that he should have been
willing to wait for my word for five years!"
'* Supposing, supposing "—she lei her tboughla go^" thai
«he were to dn what Dunlaverock wished he eould have done,
and lift a towly lover to her side " Why, ibe could do it
She had never thought about the opinions of hei world, hold-
ing herself above it and them, What the world thought nut*
tered to her less at this moment than the thought of Mary to
her grave. Whila Mary lived she had pushed that qelet image
I
I
.] H£ft LADYSHfr. 747
ut of her lovef*a heart and set up her own there. Was she
to yiold to her heart's insietcnt cry for happiness »o 40ci],
while the grief of Mary's death wa» still upon them? And he
had not come to tier as a Buppliant lovcr^ he would not como.
She fdt that ht$ pride was greater than her own. If there
WAS giipplicition to be done, she felt that it was she who
would have to be the suppliant.
The wind dropped and rose, rose with a greater fury than
befoie. She heard a cry from her cousin's room. For a sec-
oad she listened Then ^he opened the door and went out
jftto the corridor, Miss 'Stasia's r^<om adjoined her own,
"Are you frightened, dear?'*5he said, coming in. "What
A hurly-buiiy it L^ ! 1 am going to ait nrrth you^ You won't
be afraid with me, will you?"
"Do you suppose the house will stand?'* Miss 'Stasia satd,
quaking.
"Moant ShaiidonP lE is as solid as the rocic. What a
«r(nd it is. See, it is driving in straws and sand throuj^h the
interstices of the windows. I wooder what is the force of iL
We know now what a tornado is libc."
The wind lulled and died away* In the suddea colnip one
of those calms which preluded a more furious outburst of the
storm, they heard the bell of the halKdocir peal through the
liouse> peal again and aga.m.
^K "Something has happened?" Lady Anne said> snatching
^^ip a Ut candle from the dressitig-table-
She was fully dressed, except thai she had replaced her
dinner-dress by a dressing-gown of white woolen stufTn The
bell had awakened others besides herself- As she passed along
the corridor her cousm opened the door of his room and came
out, taking the candle from her hand.
"Fortunately 1 had no! gone lo bed,'* he taid, "Who
aid sleep in that wind ? I was reading by the fire when 1
heard the bell."
It was«tl]l jangling through the house, and the dogs within
and without the house had started to harking furiously. They
had reached the doo[ now.
"Stand back, Anne." Dunlaverock said, "while! get down
this bar Vou had better go into the doorway, else the candle
wUi be blown out when the door opens."
She obeyed hem. and stood shading the candle with her
hand In the deep dooruvay of the library. She walcbed Dun-
^
•
74>
IfKH Ladyship.
rM«,
laverock got down the heavy bar*. The door flew open with
a tremendous impetus- Some one staggered Into th« hilL
Then the wind caught her candle md it weat oat.
Chapter XXVI.
THE Ot^EEN COPHETUA,
For Si few seconds there was nothing but confusion. Duti'
laverock was trying to cloae tbc heavy doors, a lafik quite be-
yond his strength, even though Anne and that other came to
his help- They could not hear each other speak. Anre wu
conscious that it was Hugh Kendal who had come in, and
thought he waa speaking, but ahc could not bear a word«
Then in a lull of the storm they got the door shut.
Duulaverock had matches; he found the candle and lit it
As the Hanie £tood up steadily they turned and looked at
Ktigh Haadal. He was dripping from head to foot and blo^
was oozing from a cut in his forehead. He was panting lO
hard that for a second or two the words would not com*,
"The bog is moving/' he got out M laAC. "The wHoJe
mountain has begun to move. Mount Shamlon is not »afe.
It [3 built on reclaimed bogland. The bog is going to take
back Its own. Perhaps the whole valley will not be too mud)
channel for it."
"Ah, and you are hurl/' Lady Anne said with soddeA,
tender concern. "And you are wet throughn"
*'I awam across the channel to save tjme,*' he said, ctfll
panting hard, "The water nearly carried me away. Fortu-
nacely I remembered how a dog swEms In a 6ood, and went
with it till I was able to get out of the current, A branch
of a tree struck me — -my forehead ia bleeding. J hardly re*
membered it. There are trees down everywhere."
" MounL Shandon is safe/' Lady Anne said. " Papa alwayt
said the foundations were on rock. Anyhow^ we must wail
tiU morning. We are no worse in Che path of Ihc bog than (i>
be out in this storm."
"Yes; we had better stand by Mount Shandon, for lO-
night ai all events/' Dunlaverock said. "We might face th«
storm for ourselves, as you have faced it, Randal, but not witb
a houseful of women."
By this time the whole household was awake, and little in-
clined to sleep again.
;9^.] HEJf LADYSmF. 749
"Not a word □! [he bog/' Lady^ Anne sa\6, as ihey heard
ioot^teps on the suJrs, the noite of the opening ind sbutiing
of doors, the excited whispeTing of women. "Not a word od
thc^ bog. Wc do not wEint a panic/*
'^ [ can give you a change of clothes. Randal/' Lord Dun-
laverock eaid. *' Come wiLh me, We can do nothing till day-
tight. At duyljght the wind wiU probably drop. Better get
them to Light up, Anne. Jt Is not a night for dArkness and
silence/'
The servants were coming downstairs by this tinie^ thic wo-
men in JiCtk frightened groups, wondering what had happened,
" Wc beard a bell, my Lady/* one of them said- " Has
unylhing happened? It's aa a-wful night, None of us have
been able to sleep/'
"Light the drawing-room lamps, please, and &end up some
tea. Nothing has happened. Only Mr. Randal ha% come.
The storni will die down at daybreak- I would suggcfcl thai
you flhould have tea yourfelves and amuse youreetvc« till the
Morm is over"
The ^oiind of the piano proceeding from the drawing-room
cheered up the servants amaibigly. When they had attended
to their nii&lfess' orders tbey sat down to tea ihoni^etvcE, and
prepared lo pnsa the night away with conversation and ^toricAj
the latter usually of the most lugubrious order*
Miss 'Slasia and Miss Graham came stealing irvlo the draw-
ing'Toom presently. Then Lord Dunlaverocfe and Hugh Ran-
dal joined them, the Utter deadly pale, but in dry garment*
and with the wound ia hifi forehead staunched and held in
place by courl-plasier.
It waa a strange vigil. After They had drunk the tea, Lady
Aline proposed a game of whist. Hugh Randal, who pleaded
fatigue, fell asleep in his chair. The whisl-playv r^ sat down at
a table near the fire. The two elder women loved a game,
and were soon engrossed in it to the eacjueion even of the
■torm^ They did not notice the silence of the other two
playert, nor the quiet telegraphy which passed from one eye
to another.
" Vdu are a wonderfully bravo woman, Anne," Dunlavcrock'a
eyes «ald ; and "Courage, dear, it will soon be ovvr/* And
Anne'i brave eyes gave him back rea&iurance.
Now and agaiti he got up and replenished the fire. Again
and again when the two elder players cltflched thdr car^
Her Ladyship.
tif^t. cKimtnlne them «a^«rly, Anne seat furtive, tem'lied
gUncea lowirds the sleeper in The armcbiir- IUr f^ce wai
whitt^ against rh« baekground ol ihc velvet ch«ir, Hia head
U/ back u^ith an abaadonmcnt of fatigue. Once or twice Ladf
Anac thougbt to herself with a ^leat thralj o( aii^uiMli thut bv
looked as though he were dead. Was it possible ihai she wv
sitting there talking of tricks and honors and leads, the Rierct
outward, bodily part of her* whjie her soul was in trouble and
tumult within her ? She even laughed. She could henr hcr-
seir Uug^h OA though ahe liitened to some one else at R dii<
tance. Ker eyes ached with fatigue. Sometime^ a& the night
turned round to mcrrnin^, the marks en the cards daneerl be-
fore her eyes, but she made no migtakes. And at lut, at
last, the gr&y light was In the room; the wind lesaencd Jo
force. At la<>t she stood up from the card-table, opened a
window and looked out-
With the openijig of the window a new loand caiac into
the room, a roaring and rushing as of a great torrent. Hugh
Randal and Dunlaveroek came to her side. Kandal spoke
quietly.
"The channel has overflowed its banks," he said, '* u)d tb«
waters are running away to the sea.**
"The wind has died down." Lady Anne laid. *' And now
one can sleep. To bed, deaia, you are both nodding/'
"It is quite sale so far," Hugh Randal whispered, '*the
channel U taking the waters. If the bog takes the same cogrie
as the channel, Mount Shandon will be safe.'*
The servants were sent to bed, and the house was qtiivt.
At daybreak, as though that were the signal to put it to sleep,
the wind had dropped wJth a surprising fuddenne^. In the
wet, gray morning Lady Anne, Dunli^'erock, and Hugh Rafl<
dal. went out to »ee what happened.
All about the hou^e the trees wer« down by score* and
hundreds. There were i\d gapa in the park- But Lady Anne'*
eyes went pist the dsstruction. From the high hdll-door atefia
they could sec the bog. On either tide of the channel it
stretched for half a mile, a black mais hardly revealing itself
as moving en the half-Jight, but making an incredible iioUe, %
roaring and hurrying and tearing noise, as though the aolid
earth wa^ being wrenched from its foundatioas.
It wd.s yet a long way from Mount Shan^n watU, and it
w^ evident thai instead of dividing itself and encJoslikg llovnt
1
'906.]
HEU LAm'smp.
75"
Sfaatidonn its it might hiive donr, the channel had divfrrtfd \U
To be sure it was spreading and spreading- It might yet
reach Mount Shandon itself. iJul at least the way *>t escape
would he open on the north side of the house, and the bog,
instead oJ filling in the whoJe \a\\ty^ was traveling away ovct
the pdih oi the chmnet by thousands of Ions to the »ca.
They stood and looked into each other's ttrcd faces.
"The bog has revenged itscU/' Hugh Randal said.
"Presently it will cease movmg/' Lady Anne said.
"Not till it has djbcharged iuelf from the mountain side/'
"Then we shall begin to reclaim again, without the ttienacc
of ft perpetually overhanging us."
"Ah, bravo, bravO) Anne/' Duntavcrock said. "I always
knew you were a grcal woman, but 1 never Admired you to
much a; now."
*' The factory is ad right/' che said, tumiog to Hugh Randal.
"It is quftc all right, bemg on rising ground."
" It will be safe for us to sleep?"
" Some one had better keep watch in case there should be
a diversion in the course of the bog. If you decide to stay
in the house, a watch muMt be kept mghi and i^ay itJI ihe bog
cea5c» 10 move- I will take the lirst watch."
" Not you/' said Dunlaverock. " 1 will take it- Go and
sleep, man, Vou look as if you wanted it terribly/'
"Then 1 will sleep awhile and take the second watch."
But when the time came to relieve Lord Dunlaverock. Hugh
KanHal wa? tossing about in a fevered sleep, hi^ eyes wide
Open, p&tches of fever on his burniog cheeks.
Lady Anne sent for the nearest dociofn As soon as the
servants were about she had called them together and told them
that the bog waa in motion.
"Il sny one Is afraid/' she eaid, "he or «he can go and
return when ihc danger is over- I stay by the house, not
rashly, because 1 am sure there is no danger- But any oiw
who is afraid can go- The station bus will be ready at twelve/'
No one would go, " Time enough to talk about going/' they
said, "* when they knew the bog was roming their way" Mean-
while scouts were ported on the high ground towards th«
mountain to give warning of danger. And liJe went un in
Mount Shandon pretty much a* though the bog had not moved.
With a dilTcreELCfl, The doctor pronounced Hugh Randal's
oase a bad cose of pleurisy^ He feared complications- Evi-
7S2
HEf? LAOrSHlP.
(Mar,.
dcntly the y<i<an^ man's ^ircngEh had been fearfully r«rtuce<i be-
fore that passage q\ the river had ^ivcn the dUcue it* op-
portunitjr.
The doctor suggested s nurse. Lady Anne hjid a wiaiful
thought of Nurse GiIJ, but dismissed it- The Htlle bfowc-
faced, aiigel-narsc waa too closely connected with hla ijrief.
She accjopted the doctor's selection, and had cauite to coDgrata-
kte herself- Sister Bridget, the leggy, anfifukf younfr thSng^
lean Jn her long nurse's cloak, proved a treasure, Shu took ihfl
highunursine- Lady Anne and Hugh's mothcf were with hJm
by day. It never occurred to Lady Anne to think that people
might talk- The illness had been th« one thta£ needed to
make her sure of herself,
TAe l>Dg rose slowly till it almost touched the white walls
of Mount Shandon- Its bUck slime washed over the Dutch
garden which had been dear to Lady Anne'a uiulher. A ship
in full sail, a swan, ;t peacock, showed in yew above the llood.
When It bad come so far it began to fall, la a day or two
it was safe f«r Dunlaverock to leave-
" My dear cousin/' he aaid, *' when all this is deered away
you will have no further trouble with the reclamation of the
bog. [t will hive reclaimed Itself and left fat land behind it.
1 congratulate you on your work-"
"It will tike years to get lid of its traces," she said, look*
Ing ruefully at the black mais that covered the Dutch garden.
" Fortcinatcly you have years to give to IX. And you will
be free of the bog forevermore, Vou will let me know about
the patient? If I knew he had taken a favorable turn, t
should go happter."
" 1 will send you word every day, untd the need has passed
by/"
After be had gone Lady Anne realized that hia calm prea>
eitce had been a tower of strength to her Dear Dunlavcrock,
■he was so glad that he was going to be happy in his own
way- He was as unworldly as herself, had as line a disregard of
the world and its ways. She wa? glad too that he was Roing
lo lasrry great wealth, He would be able to push forward hta
thousand and one projects, lie had always been hampered for
want of money, and after the first he had refused to nse hen.
A great pani(^ had eome upon him in the nrj^ht. hr hhu!. when
he insisted on repaying her, lest he should die and the moAey
bo lost- That had been a moment when Lady Anne had ccoae
I
I
near ta^Trying him out of hand^ so that he shc^uld have money
(or his projects^
The compJfcationa the doctor had fcaTcd in Hugh Randol's
cast; followed. PleurUy was succeeded by pneuoionia. The pa-
tientj having little itren^lh to draw upon, went lo death's Hoot,
was saved al last by the doctors Lady Anne had summoned,
with reckless disregard of monty. Everybody »aid he could not
Jivct For days together he was kept alive by oxygen. Dt.
Sturgia. who had come over from London to consult with the
Dublin doctor, warned Lat^y Anne that if he lived it would be
long, long beforv he would be anything but an invalid,
"I understand that Mr. Randal was your manager. Lady
Anne," he Aaid. with a passing thought that for no other dc-
pendiint he had ever known would all the appliances of sciencOf
all the skill of all the doctors, have bficn procured as they had
been in thi* case. '* [ ought to warn you, that it may be
years before he Is again the man he has been. We shall puCl
him through, ] think now, but sucti a terrible illness leaver
traces- Perhaps he will never be of the ±amc use to you agam.
It ifl quite a doctors' (riumphi If Mr- Randal had been in an
ordinary peraou's circumstances, he would have died."
"Yes, I know," she said, "The great thing Is that you
have pulled him through* For the future — "
*' It will be a longt long convalescence."
"He will have that," she said. "He must go abroad, to
Unds of perpetual sun. He h going- He will recover in time."
It was April bclore Hugh was so (ar advanced on the road
to health that he might leuve his bedroom for 9, downstairs
iltting room. The day-nurse who had come when things were
At their worst, had gone back to her hospital. Sister Dridgel
yet remained, and made constant complaints that her duties
were a sinecure, to wluch Lady Anne would respond that ihcy
eould not yet brin^ ihcm?^clves to the point of losing her. Mrs.
Randal had goni: bade to the ChjIeC. where she was busy pre-
paring for her journey to America, whicb could not now be
postponed mtjiLLh lonj^cE, since Honor damured for her (wo little
girls. The rsiraMgemcnt between herself and her ion was 4
thing of the past, seemed Indeed kt though It had never been.
Hq was lying on a tofa in a little room, the window of
which looked down the valley. The air of the rooir was swcel
with hyacinths. The window was open, and the sir cama
754
Her LADY'S hip.
[Ml. ,
■veetl)' blown over bed^i of wali-f^owers and violelt. Out in
the gra^s the \aaX □( ibc daHodil:^ were in blooni'
Lndy Anne had been reading to him, but had lard down her
book with a sudden consciousness that he was not Iisicninp-
She delec^ted him with a furfow of thought betwe<n hJB cy?-
broiva, a careworn and anxious expression of Ikce.
"What \% it?" she a^kcd, "Don't you hnow that you »f«
not to worry? How are you ever lo get the Acsh back oa
your bones if you worry ? "
"It might have been ai well/' he said with painful tlow-
ness, "if the doctors had not kept me alive after all. 1 am
gotn(> to be helpless for so long, hiy mother warits me to go
with her in May; bur how can t do that? I should be only
a burden on those who can ill Afford it. It haakcpt me awalcc
at night thinking about \V
She leant towards him with a movement of protecting ten-
derness*
"Don't you know that you are my charge?" she said,
"Do you think I am going to let you go to AmericB P \^1iy
you would never get well there. As soon as you get strong
enough you are going to follow the sun all round the world
till you have won back health. When you are a strong mui
again you shall go where yoti will."
H« bit at bis nails suddenly. She had noticed him do it
before in moments of perturbation, "I can't take to much
from you," he said. "Why are you so good to me? %Vhy
didn't you banish me from your presence, as I vas wiliing lo
biLDish mysvlf while yet I had the power over my body lo
transport it at will?"
'"Why shotiid I?" she asked sweetly.
He tamed away his bead uneasily.
" Vou have lorgiren the things that I said that evening,
before the bog moved?" he whispered almost under hts breath,
and not looking at her. " Vou have forgiven my unpardon-
able presumption?"
The book slid from her bands, fell lo the rug at ber feet,
aniJ lay there. She was trembling from head to foot. Sud-
denly she knelt down by his sofa. She covered her face with
her hands,
"I can't let you go," she said, "because I love you, I
Icve you \ If you go from nie it will break my bearL"
I905.]
itEH LADySiilP,
755
"Lady Annef"
He had drawn her head to his hxt^%i. Her atm« had gone
about him likt: Che arms of a mother. They clung logeiher in
ac impassioned embrace^
■*\Vc &h^M go together/' she said, "after the sun,"
A. hlile later: "My Queen atid my Lady/' he whispered^
"I ought not lo have yielded to you, l( I Kftd not been 90
weak in body, you would \\o\ have surprised me. The differ-
ence is too great between U5. Have you counted the cost ?"
"The cosM" 5he repealed. "What cost?"
"The dismay and coldness of your friends. The thiogi the
world will say o\ you and o( ine."
"We shall not hear them," ihe answered placidly*
"Lord Shandon's daughter and — "
He would have said more, but ^be laid her hand on his
tips.
"Papa would have been the one tribuiiaL He was very
proud, but he wae unworldly, mere unworldly than I. Ho
would have married Mamma iT she had been ft peaaant gfrt."
" Lord Duntaverock ? "
" Alastair la sighing because his old love, Amy Mellof, is
rich and he must marry a forti;ne."
" I thought he was in love with you."
'* He was always m love with Amy. They undcrstaDd each
other"
He sighed aa though a weight had been lifted from him.
"The family— r'
"The Uiniiy wiU be delighted, Tc adores the romfiniic.
Uncle Hugh will mind, but he will come round; and Ida will
be glad ihai T am not breaking your heart."
" ft Will be a nine^days' wonder." he said, drawing a curl
of her hair to it* full length and leilEng it fly back again.
*'It would never reach iis," she said. " Slill- — " she hid hef
eyes againei his hair— " it will be &afcr if you marry me at
OAce and take me out of it. There is so much work wailing
lor us to do together wh«n we Come back."
TJI2 KXD.
I,
T» ice miruU m* orh'ri ih ut ■— Avntr-
TliCB He o[ii?fivil tlidr unOcnimElliif'—^ £m^
I
'EADERS familiAr wiili ih« ^nfnwM of St. Tbomn
wili perhaps recall an intcrtiting liitlc Article
of the Sccftfid Pan, In which he propoft» ihe
tiuestion, "Do men ever hat« ihc truth?'* and
another article, fanher alon^f, in which h(> ilik-
C(ifie» Ihc problem, " Is mental hiindncss a lin ?'' In the
counc ot the arg^umenU wc are remtnded that, thovgb ot«a
naturally love the truth, there are timot &nd circuiavijiocej
whcTi they hate it; ai. for inaiancc, when n man wishe* that
certain events had never taken place, when he \ongt to be ig-
noranl of a law which binds hU conscience mipleanatly* when
he dfTMrea that a faLi^e opinion of hi£ own merit* ahnuM pre*
vail. Thus to elevate our selfish mterc&t? above our Iov« o£
truth, to shut our cyts to principlce and to dlttract our ailcn-
Tton from facts, In order that we may eitjny a fictitioua free*
dom from moral restraint, is liecUred to be a a'xn.
Th»e atatements suggest food for meditation. W« are 40
apt to evade the practical appiicaiiorL of such doctrine at ibis;
ao slow to hunt out and run down various fnuka againvt truth
which arc as zaach more common than ordinary lit> ai they
Ar« less palpable and lea conErciou^n The ohvioui unt:uih U
UEiiveraally condemned. To go back on our piromitv; to bear
false witness; To deny what we have previoody afRrcned ; to
(aliify accounts; to betray a trust; these things tlio private
and the publto conbCieiLce ^like anatbemaliie. But there arc
fiTter and more subtle sina against trmh; there arc thHalringi fl
and he&itatJngs. dodginga and evAdin^s, unreavocable que^iiofi-
ing9 and unfair doublings and, obstinate elifllnjfii of the attll
small vo^ee — all In the interests of ^elfishnesf and «aae— <on-
I906.]
Or-£N^M/2^lf£DX£SS.
'57
cerninEr which conscience li not so senflUve nor condemnation
to gencta!> Ti>o seldom do wc find a pure hcarlcd and con-
stant lollower of holy truth, a min wh*> postpones all other
ambitions to the <^uest of her» turning loyally aside from ih?
common ways when her footprints kad in anolhti diieclion,
worshtpping at her *hrine tinfalleringly, though the multitude
icofT and enemies jibe and friends dissuade. For to do aill this
is painful. There may be unwelcome facts which Ihrealen to
destroy our peace of mind; half-hidden faiths which it will
cost us much to face and recognize; claims upon our lime and
attention whkh custom and inclination agre{? in bidding us
disallow. There may ht; duties only dimly perceived, oppof-
tunilics barely suggested, possibilities which we can easily ar-
gtt« into unrealtticKh Who has (he heraism to follow the track
of truth through all tho^e devious ways? Hrngeneg. with his
lantern, might easily hnd an honest man among us, if respect for
the nght« of property were alone in question; but the search
[iiEi>;t be far more dilTiGuEt, if the philosopher is looiclng lor an
open mind,
For this is the ideal, an open mind — a mind that never
offers obstructioj] to the trulh ; ihal always throws wide the
door at the first sound of her Imperjous knock; that contem-
plates her unflinchingly, whether there bo a smile or a frown
upon her brow. It is a high ideal, and fetv dar« attempt it;
m hard saying which there are few to hear. Vet the love and
the faithful pursuit oF this ideal arc among the qualitications
of the perfect Christian, as well as elements in the making of
nature's nobleman. The bearing of our Savior's teaching on
thii point should not be lost on us, Wc ought to grow more
appreciative of the sacredncss of tiuth in the measure that wo
become ''followers uf the word." The richer coloring and the
finer shade which a response to divine revelation Is suppoicd
to add to the natural man should be manifested in a keener
•ense and a more loyal obedience diiplayed toward the ^lighi-
«tt behests of truth.
Wc do not forget how common is the accusation againsl
religion in general, and in particular against our oun fatib^
tbftt precoiception And party interest and the necessities of
Argument play havoc with the believer's sense of truth; and if
thaE cliarjfc be buNcO upon fact, we hope that our minds iray
be opened to see it. For the moment, however, wc arc lets
758
0/'£JV^ Mlf^DEDX£SS.
(Hftr.,
conc«rnfif2 to discuss the coatparaiive virlu« of bclkircr 2nd
unbeliever, than to examine '\i%\<t cori&i'defalioiiA whiclt sll of un
alike should ponder, Bincc «I1 alike have need of tireleis vigi-
lance and eonstani alertness in ojAet to lay bold of thote »v-
iLi^ irulhN which fall daily From the Lips of enemy and of fheadi
and which plead with us to revbe out opinions and lo change
our ways.
Heine. Hiving described Gottifigen as surrounded by a cor*
don of poEiee, goes on to say that it was no harder for a stu
deoE lo get out of the university than for an idea to get in.
Such a condition la more or less typical of men and of in-
$tittitLons. Mindf lend lo cr>'&talli2e; and ordinarily wc allow
the process to continue without interference, (orgeliLng ibat,
with minds as well as with bodies* movement is existence and
to live is to change. CansuUJng the petty interests of the
prcirrnt by shutting out the tide of immigration, wc debar our-
selves from all share in the wider, richer life of the world tt
Ur^c — IS if the life of mm or n^HoTi could always be renewed
and recruited from within^ Ltlce unwelcome aliens, new ideas
protest in vain against the rigors of our Cicclusion Act; w«,
like short-sighted governments, insist on regarding Ihe for*
eigner a& an undesirable citiicn. He is not to the manner born ;
he does not fir in with prevalent customs; he will not take
for granted all that we have been used to astume; h« crill-
cEEcs our ways, and speaks af methods which are better. So
a suicidal policy is desperately maintained; and the intruding
man or idea is kept out for the sake of domestic convenience.
We have decided upon the facts of a case, or we have at last
succeeded in getting our philosophy alt nicely arranged; and
we lake it very ill of any bothersome new cocioii tc come
along and try to introduce a change.
A s(of/ telti of a magistrate who heard only the plaioild's
testimony and then at once decided the case "lest he should
be confused by hearing the other side/^ There 18 more than
a jest in the tale; it come? near to describing the conatton
attitude of men who regard their first judgments as Tinal asd
their oplniona as sate from amend men ts. Wonderful, indeed, is
the adamantine lirmness with which the modern commercial
trust resists ^\tfy actempc of the small producer to obiais a
foothold in preempted territory; yet no combination is closer
than that focmed against the new idea. The prt-judiced auod
I
190^J
OrnN - Ar//^j>snA'/:ss.
7S9
\
^ioes not ask, Is it true ^ nor considcf, Is resistance wise? It
is enough that the novel views do not harmonize with the old.
For proof, propose to any man a notion which obviously will
require time and cflorC in order to be fitted into his present
itale of mind. [TisC^iitJy there w\U be opposirioa. Not that
Ihia is anything but natural: not that we could get along juiC
as well in the practical a^airs of life, were we not endowed
with an instinctive and, on the whole, most proflable con-
servatism! But since a new idea is usually at a dUadvantagei
iove of truth and real desire for knowledge will make us ex*
tremeEy carcfui to win due control over a tendency calcuUteit
to hifidcr our mental growth and |o dim our sense of actual
<ODdicioaE. The law forbids a man to be judge in hia own
trial; it aims to compose a jury of entirely disinterested per<
sons; but here, in the inner court, the rulings come from the
party who h the most prejudiced, or ai l«ast the most inter-
ested of altn It need hardly be said, then, that unlcas we
master our primary instincts, and form the habit of judging
truth apart from its bearing upon self, we shall dweU in a
fairyland oF unrealities and lead lives far less actual than those
impersonated on the dramatic stage. To be in touch with
reality one must, by ceaseless diligence, maintain an open
mind.
This is not a defence of Inconstancy, nor an excuse for
fickle judgments: it Is simply a plea for reasonableness. For
as wc learn from the Nuomashtan EtkUs : "The reasonable
(continent) man, while he does not veer about under the inHuence
of emotion and desire, does remain moveable. It is easy to
persuade him on occasion; but the obstinate person resists the
persuasions oJ reason. '^ It is reasonable, then, to recognize
Ifae high probability thai, in many Instances, our opinion will
be wrong; to appreciate the perverse tendency of our <nap
judgments. Since we are always inclined to believe our own
plans wise, our motives pure, our actions right, an el!ort ia
needed to counterbalance this predisposition; and such effort is
the price a man muM pay for an open mind-
Improvernent, as a result of criticism passed upon our work
and behavior, is the lirst fruit of open-mlndedness. To o«ic
who wJU heed disagreeable truth, and accept ihc at^ifitance of
friendfi brave enough to wound his vanity, kindly ctilicifim can
thua be of great use. It helps one to correct defects, to acquire
OPKh\ MlKDEDS'ESS,
i
viTlue, to gfow in amiability, cfifidcncy, and in |^n«iftl hlppinCM,
There ar« persons, however, to whom not even chc deirest *ad
tataX trusted fnctid dare utter a word of reproMcli or corrvcitocu
Right or wrrtng, thdr rrkica atway^ meet a ftorir oF recriraiDB*
tion and dispute. If wc happen to belong to Ihii unfonnnit^
type, woll may we pray For "the giEtie" which will show oft
how we aeem (□ others. The nwflketiing will he beneficial,
though ii will certainly not be pleasant- Few experiences ar*
UcA agreeable than suddenly to recognise the Oict that we
have been escaping well r&ented criticism because our friends
would not venture to wound a seU^estecm which they knew to
be InoidinaEe. So humiliatLng )& such a discovery |bai« tiAder
tb« first sling of it, we are apt to turn with chiding words on
the friend who ha^ spared u3, forgelting the yean of experience
which taught him how uselcG^ it was to niiRic our pUineit
Uuhs, forgetting the dismantled afTeciion? and the wteck^ of
friendships strewn along our course, due to warnin^i^ we re-
sented and criticisms we obstinately disregarded; for, despJt«
our loud profession of love for truth, we do, in dc»ir« and in
deed, betray what with our Irps we honor.
To make u«e of criticism skilfully and sympatheticaUy ad*
miniGtered is, as a matter of fact^ uot a rare or an heroic ac-
complishment. A harder leison to learn is, how to make u»«
of rough, unfriendly criticism, This achievement »ccm», indeed,
to be quite bej^oad the power of weaklingfi and to require a
more rugged determination and ^ stronger good sense ihao
tno&t of us display in the work of ^eif-improvctncnt^
Fas esc et ab hoste doceri,
sang tbc old poet wisely and convincingly, Wc have much to
learn from our enemies, not only in the strategy of war, but
in the campaign! of conscience coo. Commonly, however, nc
feel as if we may fairly enough be allowed to lesl Ihc matltr
as soon as we have shown the critic lo be an enemy- — as though
ar enemy were not tihely to be as ketnly alive to our weak-
nesses a£ he is blind to our virtuef^ The fact ifi that, if w«
have A defect^ ihc man who dislikes us most uritl be the onv
to perceive it first. Under the smart of hh accuntion. or ibe
«tiug of his sarcasm, wc are tempted to soothe Our f<eltnc>a
with the consolations of welUmeanin<; fiiends; but The pail of
wisdom would be to cut away the po^iblc baela of future accuaa-
I
I
I906.]
OtE N^ MINDEDSESS.
761
lions. So Far as character and virtue go, what maUers il if
there \s some bitlerne$f, ^ome exaggeration, b chc wor<f» of
those who held ua up lo rititcule and shamt ? That which
really signifies i^ the grain of truth in ihc load of misrcprc*
leniaiioc. Seek that; and when found, consume and digest and
assjmilate it- Bitter though tt be. it is wholesome. Let u& do
tt» ■■ Sludge" professed 10 do:
k
Take the fact, the grain of gold,
Afkd throw away the dirty re^i of life.
Religion, oi course, if it has any meaning foT us at all,
should Aid U9 lo face our fauLts aijd defects with an open mind
and to accept, at the very least, such corrections as ate well-
grounded. The old ideals of humility and patience and sclf-
denjai and ol^i^dienoe. chereforc, throw Hashes of light across
the path wherein we walk. The moo who takes rhc Gospel
seriously, and endeavors to impress deeply on his mind the
IcssoTis taught by our Lord's example, will find much wisdom
come to him from his moments oE silent meditation. Without
excessive introspection, and without exaggerated self-deprecia-*
tion, he may by fretitjent cxamiciAlion of con^i^ienoe gAin no
Httic fllfengJh tturi clearness of vision. And if occasJonftlly he
refreshes his memory about the saints, by dipping into their
livea; if he lakes a lt?^on now and again in the Catl-ioJic
principles of spirituality ; if, at intervals, he foilowa the exercises
of & retreat; best of all, if he ^ocs regularly and earnestly to
confession; he will, other things being equal, surely grow much
more open-minded with regard lo his fautts Than the man who
docs none <^i these thinge,
Study, in so far ^& it enlighten* the mind and corrects
prevalent miaiinderalanding?, also helps u* to grow out of our
prlmilEve attachment to appearances and first imprcsilons, and
trains its to welcome unexpected troths. It ii characlcnstic
of a cuhivuted man to be capable of adaptation, as il is in
consequence of having been adaptable that he hai jicquired
culture. In a special and peculiar way should open-minded'
I Beaa be characteristic of the man who hai learned from psy-
f chology the various illusions to which the mind is subject-
Familiarity with the difTerent forms of normal and abnormal
1 ballucination, diminishcfi Lhi: obstinacy and the exti'avAgan<:e
1
i
of our self*c<7nfid£nce. The student discolors that in oianr
wAyi nature his been Imposing jpon him: both his cjres ut
partly Wind, (hough he never knew it; a rhirig may bo coW
to one hand and warm lo another; any sort of blow on the
opiic nerve causes us to see light; atccUpoints will be fc[! u
single or aK douUe. according to the part of the skin whh
which they are pur in coniaci : sensations of color and form
are discovered to be largely elever guesses and skitful inter*
pfetalions forging ihdt own letters ot credit id Jtccord witJD
unLVersal eustook' It Ss the student'^ bifsinesa to inve&tigaic
and, as far as he <:an, to explain these and a hundred otbtr
common errors; and while he ponders ihem he gradu^Jy be-
comes Jess dogged in the conviction chat first impressions arv
generally beyond the need of correction and reversal.
Th« inveitigaijon of mental habits an^ vaganes, the stv^Iy
of our slfi very to chance in^ucncefi* the appreciation of human
Icnowlcdge as Urgeiy reUtive and hypoihelical — all go to naakc
a man humble with regard to his own opinions, and pAtleBl
with regard to those of others. What psychology does o«
the subjocttve side, history does oo the objective; thai science
reveals man's limitations, this reveals the world's- When oik
has grown used to contemplating cycles of time, to measuring
the lives of races, to studying the development of civilisations,
lo marking the reign of historical law and (he periodic recuf- ■
rence of seemingly uiii<]ue phcnoittena. he has already began
to be healed of his narrowness. There is so much to be
learned from a knowledge of the origins o! things. Cofopari*
son of times an<I of institutions teaches such startling facts. The
emptiness of momentary success; the inexorable woikEng of
cLcrnaE hidden forces; Ehe supremacy of tendencies which men
commonly detpise^to have studied the play ot these elemental
facts in the life o( humanity is to have grown beyond t^
mental stature of a child. Therefore history— and above all
comparative history — is a veritable priestess of truth, Nolh-
ing human can impress upon us a better acme <if proponioa
than to ice generations succeeding one another, each to rat»e
up new idofa and bequeath ihem to a postcrily whidh pulii
them rudely down and erects others of txs own, Wben we
hai^e counted the Rgurea in a long procession of nations and
have marked how inevitably every one of them fallK under the
same old delusion with regard to the divine origin aod the
I
I
1906.]
Opkn- Mj.sdedi^ess
763
eternal npccsaiiy of ihcir cuatDms and instilulions, v« arc for-
ever a1i:«rward less apt to be dogmatic, more ready to be
open-minded with regard to ihe inherent aacrcdncss of our
own,
in sbgrt, an^ kind of mental development, any growfh al
the soul, t«nd£ in some wise to broaden th« sweep of our
vision, to open the mind- Worldly expcrietice docs it; love
does it; study and meditation have the same ctTect — each in
Its own fashion — if other things are equal. The old ar« tup-
posed to gather nUdom with the pas&mg of yearc^ In the
same measure is it true thai the mature become more patient
of differences and more open of mind than the headstrong and
impetuous youth- The lover is open-minded, bcc4Die teach-
able — ai iea^t by the beloved. The aoul of the moiber has
one more entrance than the soul of the childless. Fart o( the
sinner's trouble is the narrowness of hjs view; at the moment
of temptation, the evil thing seems (o be all-important for his
happiness, to be big enough to cover the whole field of vision
— because the field of vision is very narrow and limited.
Where^is the saintj who se^s with far-sighted and eternal eye5,
is aware of a world of considerations and mighty truths un-
fluspected by leaser men. He is open of mind in this and In
other waySj and aaya with the Psaimiat :
Ambulavi tn latitudtnc:
Quia mandate tua exquisLvi.
Though what has been said about the tendency of a31 de--
velopmcnt to enlarge and open the mind is true, other ten-
dencies, as a matter ol (act, may counterbalance this, or even
make the individual narrower and less open than he was in a
previous sta^e. But this much, at least, is sure, that all of us
need to be more open-mtnded than we are, and readier (or the
correciLon of our faults or cur opinions; and again, that many
, means are available for our improvement. To make use of
these means 15 an obviou* duty, to neglect them a fatal mis-
take We may not rcaliie this fully now ; but we shall
sooner or later- For, somehow and somewhere, the soul muit
I learn heartily to love the truths ere ever it con dwell with
joy in the bosom of Cod.
are exlremi
ral tendency may be npufraliscd by a local con-
dition; wt may point out ihe elements of a
situation, and yet an exprcled result may fait lo
follow; our logic or our psycholpgy may ttad
us to expect a given type of character in giver circumstances,
but the facts will ai lEii]e& disappoint us. Ilencc» m dlscuEEJng
briofiy, in the preceding a.riiclc, the spendinfi of money, pointa
of View were describtd and no effort was made to determine
definitely the extent to which they dominated. In advancing
in our study, we may examine into the characterijiticf of per-
sonal types— those oi apender and ai saver— under the same
qualifications and re*efve-
TliE type of spender and the type of saver are diiiinci re-
sultB of dilTerent social processes. They arc quite ualikc in
m^ivea, ambitions, ttandardt, in Ihctr philosophy of life, lq
their relations to industry and bu&lncssj in their judgment oS
duty and o( the pleasuies of life- On the aurface, the differ*
ence between them is In their attitude toward money- fee
the spender spends and does not save, while the saver savea
and does not &pend, except when compelled by admitted ne-
cessities, or the more sensible proprieties of life and the t*P5e
of duty. But back of that lie differences which might be
traced out Into farthest recesses of social organization and lifc>
WhethcT or not one is spender or saver is not a matter of
volition alone \ it involves many factors which are in ccroplex
relation in the social order, The rtilloMviTig rather long cuiraet
from a recent work in Economics $haw5 the larger reLations to
progress of spending and anving,*
I
The habit oi savmg. that iS| of aubordinnling the present
k
I
Life and Money.
765
to tlie fulure, is llie essenlial tOi a raci eristic of pro^rttis.
PrimiLive peoplts art apciKltLrift— Lhey have ao iLcught of
the morrow and lay by nothiut^^ There is ao tccumubliou
ol cajvitdl. Where tho provision of immcdiflte nccJs Occiipies
the whole of one's time. lUerc is no opponunity of develop-
tng those higher qnnlities that tnake lor dvilii^ation. The
lOTTnation of a coiilinually growing Blirphis irvolves Ihe sav-
i[ig ot energy aud ihe Mheralion ol Uumaii effoils Itom the
pres»iii){ needs of mere tuaterJat existence. The growth q1
cftpital means the advance of cIvKlKalion, t>ccause it impliea
more eflioieot labor, the growih of lei^nte ntid the freedom
I0 lura altfhtiOTi to lh« Uf^ientiQo, a?Hlb«tic, and ciIiii^q! aims
of lite. , . , The growth ol capital \^ \\\ U&elE, indeed,
not AuHjcieul to engeudei the higlie&t form of civJli nation,
bill it is a luadameiital pEerei^nisilc, Not aH viealthy com-
munitk? have been civilis^ed tti the best 4ense; but X\\tx^
never has been i;rcai art, grciit lilcraliircj or great sciciicfli
except when there has been ati abundance ol eapital. , . .
A man who alivady possesses an LrjL-onie large enough to
aattsfj' his daily want^, bi? ihey grtat iir binji]], caniioL tla
auythlag else with his surplus except to vave it, and thus
lead to the formation of fresh capital, If he ik a :uaniic, ho
can, of courae, physically deiiroy it, or the money reprc-
rsetited by it ; and tf he is n ffH^l. be c^an put i^apila] to such
stupid and unproductive tisen [hat it will »,ooii beLUnii: wijTlh-
leas and disappear as an embodiment of value, liut unleM
he wastes capital iu these etude ways, he cannot help saving.
. , , Our present estimate of each anece^isive future iiw oi
A eommodiiy dimitiishes as that u^e recedes into the fnlute :
but the eKEi:nt to which we nie williirg ti> letiJtJa fntm presr^nt
conaumptiuu depends on the relative aiuoiiul at our disposal,
li we have a large quantity of a commoUityH or a large sura
ol mOTiev with which lo buy \\. we can cousnme ouly a small
portion now and may be quite rea*ly to lay by tb< rest, be-
cauw it does tiot involve nny perceptibli? HacriEce. With
tvery climlnution in tlit amount nl onr dit^posnl. however,
the greater will he the importance which we attach to pies-
«at aatiBbctions, and the more remote wjll Ri>pear the ad-
vantage oj saving for the future. Ftually, a point will be
reached when these two con side rati on b balnricc each other,
and where wc !<hall be on the maT|:in oi doubt whi^thcr to
aave or to ipcnd. Beyond that point we nhali .iuiely not
nave, becaiiae we itecurc more sat infactiou from preBent en-
joy im^ut.
766
Life and Money,
[M,
■f.
It if, howevfrf, Ihe persDnil side of thc&c prEtcasses wthki
\% referred lo now; the type o/ character that tends lo appcu
through thoir infiuence.
N
One may define income to be the amounl of mon«y or
economic goods received regukrly in a suted period, ju dif,
month, year- It may be defined again as th«^ (ot*t inflow of
plei^urable sensations irom ecooomic goods. The former defi-
nition IS in economic teims^ the latter i^ in terms oE life.
The saver would employ the former, Ihe spendtr might prcfcT
the inticr. For Ihe spender is inclined to look upon incoaM
aa 3 means to plcitiurc, to attractive clothingi choice foodi,
tra.veL, theatre. leUure ; while the sAver is inclined to look tipos
Income 4& money, properly, a means of securiry agalnM future
watit. The social organization undef which we live ordlnart]/
expresses income in lerms of money, and we cMpreu cost \%
the same way, The economist, however, takes co^t to meajb
whatever \i given up in order to gel something cite: sacriGcc,
labor, pain- It may be represented by money, but ulUmalcly
coat is reduced to aacritice of some kind. H we were to ane-
lyzc the typeit of spender and saver cxhaustivcty, wc fthoold
begin by studying their attitudes toward procuring income axid
dilTerences in industry, In choice of labor, In kindu ol occupa-
tion whii^h they evdude nr admit. In a word, we should know
how they buy their incomes before they spend them. But fof
preseEit purposes, that i^ not necessary. The main pointa to
be considered are Ihe types of spender and saver as revealed
in their attitudes toward the disposal o( Income-
Incomes vary between extremes of abundance and wretched-
ness, but theae extremes arc not kept ift mind. Income la
taken as it ranges for the great majority of men and women,
not too ^reat to free them from question and concerni and not
too limited to permit some freedom oE choice,
Mor can one take account oT aU of the variations of motive
that are Included in each class. The spender may «pend in-
come selti&hly, and with no other aim than to aaiiafy what a
spiritual writer has called *' violent nece^itiet"; be may tpead
to maintain a social standing or to exptc^s aifcction aa between
husband and wife, parent and child \ or to show a spirit el
good-leiiow^hip. The aaver may gave through a wn» ol ai
i
I
I
19061
Life and Money.
J6r
biCTon, duty, through (car of want, or by temperament. AMow-
tDg £of tht&^ only a ^eaeral comparison is madc-
Thc spender liv^s in the present, while the saver lives in
the future- Pfes^tit joy or pleasure, present opportLinily, prc&
ent sensation^ appeal Jtreetly and effectively to the spender.
He IB not much given, If at all, to any coniideration of fuiurc.
He enjoys full and varied life, is thoroughly social and hearty
in enjoyment, The saver guideE himself by what the ecuti-
omin calls future estimate*. The future \% very real to him.
Future want, future responsibility, future opportunity of fiood^
future leisure appeal to him far more strongly than present
want or opportunity- Cooaequently, he compresses present life,
aimpli^ef present wants, enjoys in anticipation much more
than in fact. The spender emphastjces pre5ent while the saver
emphaaEEBS future. Hence the latter excels the former in the
caltivation of foresight, In the habii of self-dijscipline* and in
the calculation 0/ future risk. The tivo lend to develop habits
of mitid which bold them firmly, for the spender gradually
tosea the will to save, and the saver tends to lose the will t4>
«pend — beyond a given circle of wanla. The spender's hearty
enjoyment of to-day tends to blind him to lo-ruorrow's respon-
sibilities, while the saver'« mental habit of postponing pleasure
leads him into a mental condition wherein he lo^ea hie capao-
ity to relax and enjoy. In a people, the degree of fore&Tght
that they develop is an index of progress in civilijcation : it is
likewise, it present, proof of enlightened conscience and fore-
•ight in the individua.1 up to the point where he rpcognises
the rights and value of to-day's pleasure, but not beyond-
The spender has many and varied wants. Living fully in
the present as he does, he secka to conform to many cu^stomSi
to malnEain exacting standards, and to live and act in a Large
wa/' He has more wants of appearance than real wants; he
■pends more on show than on oeces»aries; and is governed
largely by hl& social estimates and aims. The saver exempts
himself from service to many of these things- He is kss in-
fluenced by social considerations, les^ stirred by &ocjai ambi-
tious, and less inclined to social ilfusion, Sfnce many of our
•ocial wants are superfluous, and many sccirI standards will
DOt Udnd five minutes' scrutiny by common sen»j the savei
I—
76B
Life and Money^
[M«.,
escapes man/ Gc^asJcnA o£ re^lJy ustflrss expense, and appcui
miich more sensible, if ai times le^s sympalhciic whb Ufc than
[h<^ spender.
Neither type, possibly, h» a monopoly on wisdom, but ua-
denjably the mistakes of the ^aver are as a ruJ* the uifer
From the stAndpotnt of the nature o{ things, however, the
spender e5 JLisiified. for life is real and its realiiy Is in ihc
present- The nn^meiil that properly begrni to be more than a
pr^viaLon for future needs, and becomes 4n end, wc behold
acLua! inisunderstandiiLg of its nature and (unction. But io tbt
present di&otder of things, of self-dependence and actud risk,
sivtd^ acquti^cs a jiHtifying character that commends it vttf
strongly to the aeriouB'mindcd, and forces the Epeoder to ip-
pear in a less favorable light. We are, however, 1:0 tar removed
from the nature of thrngSj that nearly evcrytliEni; must be
judged conditionally^
The saver tends 10 be somewhat unsociable, not from divt
like of society eo much as by thr fact that bis %iew of life
19 serious, and hia forms of todut^cnce, few. The spctade: is
m^re social, for sociability is an e^coicnt of his mental isalce<
up. A hearty sympathy with humanity, a cheerful share in m
short sighted merriment, to be Tound among spenders, fomitli
adequate foundation for varied association and companicnihip.
Patten ubierves that the thrifty aie held together more by tbtir
coincncn dislike of the unthrifty than by poaitive iiocial bnnds^
The massics are spenders, and they love their own kind.
Hence the spender V6 popular, while the public tends to i^ctioie
or dislike the saver. The faitings of the spender arc often
more readily pardoni^J than the virtues of the ttver. Jn a
democracy, the spender gets the votes, pirticul&rly U the
oRice that he feeeks be cluse to the peoplr, and personal
contact may be to an extent expected, Tht Alaskan chief
who at a "potlatch" distributes presents lavishly, in order 10
win the gi?od will of admiring natives, is not unhke the aider-
manic candidate who gives turkeys and cranberries to tbt
poor in hie ward at Chfistta&s time. The boss, the grafter,
rhe lohbyist, the promoter are but reBections, to a human
life, of great truths of human nature. One Much trsib if
that ali the world lovea a spender as well as a lover. There-
former, on the contrary, austere, ethicalj and correct, noi uuder*
standing the atlecLions of the maEtea, seldom wins and never
I
1906]
Life asd Money.
769
fnar)ag<^} them well They mias the jovial, (rce, opcnhandtd
way of the Epciidcr «ad fail lo foUow-
Thc habit of savini^ enjoys little social pre&ligc, except in
■mall circles, where (t may serve as a mark ol dialinclion. The
so-called higher circles have no thought of i^avint^, as social
rivalry is essentially a procesE o( spending \ Ibe masfces give il
Utile thought, for they do not look to the future. Hence the
saver is such by irdividual rather than by social force, by pef-
sortBl insight cr ambition rather than through any Etimutatton
from without. A curious eilect of this is lo be fatind tn the
nianner in which sometimes a saver jufitifiee hiB economies,
Whenever he ts called upon lo explain, he \^ inclined to look
for and allege some motive which may meot approval ; lor (he
mere motive of saving money is one which, in general, meeiB
little sanction irom a world of BpciideTS- The few agenU of
inftruciion which occasionally preach or leach the saving of
money and the suppression of extravagance, do cot meet the
success that Iheir aim deserves*
Not even the eirample of rich men who have created and
endowed great social works, such a^ asylums, hospitaUj schools,
libraries, mu&eucns, nor their unanimous teaching of simplicity,
saving, and ^elf-discipline, nor the pracika! value of it seen in
daily life, has given the habit such prestige as wouM stimu*
Utc the thousands to be savers. One might almost say that
Nordau's sarcastii; page in Patrniaxei on The Benefit of Dtbts
u the basil of popularity, the pledge of succcis, and the ccn-
dJiion of hap}>ine$s, had in it more truth than sarcasm, when
one recalls the abandon to present pleasures, the diEcrcdit of
Mving, and the disregard of debt, to be found on alT sides.
The relations of the spender to the saver are intereating. As
ft rule^ the former pities or condemns the latter for bis lack of
human sympathy, lor his disciplined life, and blames him be-
cause he does not spend his money- The ^aver, on the other
hand, sees liuLc Eo approve in the spender's habits and disa-
grees with him in his estimated of propriety, good form, and
duty. The spender condemns the saver for overestimating fu-
ture risk, or wanl, or pleasure; and the latler fmds fault with
the former for forgetting the future and its obligaiioriE. The
•pendcf finds no justifLCAtion or approval for the careiul man-
agement of the saver, for his attention lo &matl economies, his
watchfulness agarnsl waste, mismanagement, his uiili^alion of
VOU LXXKII, — 4S
770
LtFR AND MOXKV.
[M
aT..
oddn and ends. The savcf cannot pardon the ihoughtltisaest,
waftc> lAck of management which, Trom hi^ own standpoint, he
i«M in th« (pcndcr^* Thus there \s little tympatb)^ between
the two type^^
The fAte« appear to make Ihe saver, only loo often, viclin
for th« tficnder When by ihfift. foresight, and seJt-dcnial, a
MV«f b» 4iecamiiiitMlcapitili and ba« opened a corner groceijr
ftlon In « bu«y ndghboriiood, the oierry, cara-frce ^cnd^r will
buy from him and nevcf pay the bilb. When one gains the
COfiUdcnc* of bo»Ke» men, one hear^ weary lamentations
becaute of the penitteot refusal or inabiEiiy of irrany, who live
vrvIJ aad cafCteuJy, to pay their debts^ Jail fcr debt may hare
b«e<i an evil, bni ti undoubtedly compelkd many to pay what
tiMy owtd— ^ ble»ing of no smaJ] proportions. A popular
vMiifUt t«ll* u«: '* Ne'cr-da-wdlness is an expansive ^laie
Tlltn ar* no «Mural limits lo it. U develops bioid vtcu^, and
lu |MVulUr virtues haw a 'ree fiefd. ll is dilTerent with welU
tP«do»wa. whkh is a precarimis condition, with a very narrow
HMt^fn «l Mfety. The ne'er- do^ well can a^ord lo be generous,
M«i«»lE thai hi» generostty coEts him nothing. He H free from
%tl t>*UltUu^ ealculatjons nccessa^ry to those who are compelled
|(jt fld^uit nieani \o ends. He is indifferent to cnds> and he ha>
NdI 9vtn Che jnnposing and compeJIing discipline of bust*
IIM>| ikor the irksome necessity of labor, nor the po&ilive dv-
Ughl* of leisure, appear to engender the habil of eaving, as
miyht be expected, Modern business is buiU up through rigid
•tiOMnmy, elaborate care in the utilization of waaic. and mutt
p«<*rt;l Hltcniion to detail, yet the tens of thousands enga^^ed to
|ndii4Uy and business do not, by Any meana, appear to be in-
ftnanrnd ntijlormjy in their habits of cxpenditurcn Vebliik, ta
llU ftcuie study of the leiiure class, tinds thai the pecuniary
4»4l the InduKtrial acilviii^H afl^ect men differently, Ihe latter
UlllMf to engender the habit of thtii't. Not even dim^ banks,
fHVlnue banks, and similar inducements, succeed in winning
hp|i*,iiLii-l \w iii^fl viLl iiitnilDA rhU our jMffplr trv tpcullhnllv (■r-nini noEicf iKrIr- ■*<*
^«ii]H4 <i [u »<K'ti aa ■timn u TQHtkVc ii |jrovdrtiLiil ihai vim iv ilirvMUDUiofourfcldbfaa
vtiMiii 44i|*|MJi*''ii[4l [kf^ipLn In ■Imnii Kny <aun(ii m Kuratit ^Tiklc «c hpw In fw*«v( ff«««
fit«-«i *n«iM, «1ii<h im Lliff tfsingfiktwoA br<*eb mUBn, nilDiinila i« iba Ont'Si Af tf fef
I
I
I
i9o6] Life a.vjj Moxsr. yji
fc
over the mas^c« Co th^ habit of savtng^ lusuranct is a genteel
forrn of saving, but th« spender will borrow on his policy
when he wi^heSt ^i><^ defeat his own foresight.
One might ndii to the two classes of spenders anrl savers,
iheM which arc less pronounced, and which mirgle in a way
ftny of ihe traits of both^ There are the balanced, careful
tnen and women, with objective judgmeni, fair ficH-contfoI, dnd
« good sense of the proprieties of life, of its humor, and its
oWigalions, who neither underrate nor ovcnatc prtficnl or fu-
ture. With them, prudence is always itself, and fotesighl does
not dim the vision of the present. There are, tlien, the eavcra
who save in order to give, to further good woiki, who lave
because of tlieir views of fife and plea^uie^ regardless of abun-
dance of means. There are, 6nally, those who are ahernaiely
savers and spenders; men and women who save methodically
in order to accumuUle amounls required for some form of
pleasure lo which they are given. Mr. W. D. Howell?. In
writing of English Idiosyncrasies in ihii North Ameriatn Revifw,
telU n% ** that families in very humble station save the year
round for these vacations, and, having put by twelve or fifteen
pounds, repair to some such waterside as Blackpool, or iu
analagiie in iheir neighborhood, and Uvi^h them tipon the brief
j<iy of the time," Thia type, which, in fact^ belongs to the
Spenders, is met so frequently that further illustration H un*
necessary.
It 13 evident that many forces are at work, posilively and
negatively, in prodncing the two main types, and many crr-
CUaLiiaaces of one'4 time are. a« well, factors. The spender
type represents a form of life, the saver, a form of discipline
of iifc- Incentive to saving must have been found, orij^lnally, in
conditions oF climate, in uncertainty of food supply, in pres-
sure of population on a limited Enp^ly- Oii^inallyH in a short-
sighted prfiple of low culture, ii is simply present aeif-denia]
undertaken to obtain future pleasure or security. It if a
long. 4I0W process that has given us to-day's condition in
civiliriiion, whffre rndiviiluat and family are left to ihemEelvcs;
where nearly aii law, social direcELon, and cafctilation are
directed toward future and not to prciiect; whvrc tbc ket
generation provided for us and we provide for one which is lo
follow; where property has acquired character a» an end m
wall a« a means, and where nearly all ambitions are condi-
77a LIFE AND Money. [Mar.
tJoned on it, nearly all standards are measured by it, and so-
dal cLassitications are dependent on it- Thus it has come to
pa^s that we classify men aa spenders and as savers, instead
of rating them a$ sharing life wisely or unwisely. And we teach
Ihe young to save money, when we should teach them how to
live; we allow men and women to believe that saving as saving
is wise and right, when intrinsically it cannot be either. Life
is everything, duty is supreme, life's ideals cannot have any
other than an external and accidental relation to money. Right
teaching on life and Its discipline; right ordering of the indi-
vidual's relation to society and of society's relation to the indi-
vidual; Che diminution of risk and elimination of conditions
which give such powerful sanction to the habit of saving, ore
reforms to be introduced before we may safely attempt to
change our traditional teaching. Meantime, it remains unmis-
takably a wise practice to save money, prepare for the future,
and subject our desires, likes, and dislikes to such discipline
as this involves. This leads us to a position wherein we may
see an interesting phase of the relations of Socialism and the
present order. Socialism appears as the alleged champion of
life; Its aim professedly is to eliminate the motive for saving
as well as the need of it, to exalt life to primacy in society,
and to terminate the tyranny of money- The defender of the
present order is made to appear. In some way, as the cham-
pion of money against life.
In spite of all that is ugly, hateful, dangerouu, and untrue
in the contentions and charges of Socialism against the actual
order, there is an undeniable charm in its ideal and a degree
of fascination in its aim. If one might live life as fully as
Socialism promises, one might he sure of happiness and "hea-
ven on earth " ; the " kingdom of God here and now,*' and be
freed from the necessity of saving-
Before undertaking to study the relations of spending and
saving to the progress of Socialism, it may be well, after hav-
ing described briefly the types of spender and of saver, to asle;
Who are spenders and who are savers? These questions will
draw attention back from the personal type to the social pro-
cess, from which standpoint a study of Socialism may be more
easily made.
of advent u re >
HE conceptEon of the suprrnian is not bG :icw as
Ihe name, nor did even the latter entirely origi-
nale with NietzEche, But he it was who gave
lo balh a pttrii'^ular and definile shape, and
started the supeiman on his capricious course
Like the mon^ler oi Frankensicin, he now stalh«
the earth indepeiiiicnl of his maker, and we will not make
Nietzsche responsible lor all Ihe vagaries oi his cherished crea-
tion. Our task will be rather, as in the other points we havo
considered, to fix attention oa the posUivf- and original elements
of Nietcgche'5 conception, dwelling less on its negative aspfct;
It is more helpful to ourselves, as it ee dso more just and more
generous and more true, to correct the worst of a writer by liU
own be^i, than to satisfy ourselves by triumphanlly indicating
the weak points of his system.
The auperman of Nietzsche it a strange, mixed being; oltea
•nough repugnant and self- con iradi dory. He is ostensibly pro-
posed to ui ai a substitute for God: ^ kind of human Tower
of Babel, who sliall reach from earth to heaven by his own un-
aided force* It is, in many respocls, an impious conceplion,
in others a revolting one, minEl«<l as it h with the advocacy
of crueity and lust, [t is also an antS^popular, an anil dcrno-
cratic concepiton, based on disregard for the weak and opprcEEcd,
on sympathy for the strong and tyrannical. And yet ihe evil
» not altogether unquali^e^; there is gold &b well as day in
the composition of the superman. Some of the best points of
Nietuchean philosophy culminftTed jn this, his last at!d fAvot\t«
creation.
The conception iiaelf h both real and ideal: Niei^^sche looks
partly to the production of an individual or individuals, partly
to that of a type. The superman was sometfmcs Nictxiche
a
7r4
STI/D/SS OA' FKrEDRlCN h'TETZSCffE.
l»l*f.
faim^cTf, in lh« pcrsQii of fi^iirathousEra ; soTneltmcs a bciDg that
was y«t to come- It U not very dear if he believed i» i Ju-
tUTC univeraa! rei^n of the supermaD^ or i{ he held tliat U wovlii
always be an cKccptiunal appearancc^ Thb point H obscure.
A5 is aUr> th^t of the connection a\ this idea with another of
bU leading theories, the doctrine, natnelyi of the " Ewjg< Wi«>
derkehr," or Eternal Recurrence,
Ttiis latter belief pf>&itjve1y haunted Nictische : and, io the
perasn of Zarathou»U;i, he gives us An account ol the agony
With whicfi hn realUed it, Past, present^ future, wer« but the
points of a never-ending circtilar movement, everything pa«
would come again, everything futuie had alieady beer- Wf
cannot here enter on a consideration of thi» theory, which bai
been oltcn dUcusscd in the hUtory of phllonophy. We only
note it here because, in spite of tla apparent laek of harmony
with any theory of leal progre», such as the tuperoian would
eminently represent, it always appeata In cIo>e connedioa
with this latter tdea, It might be possible lo harmonite thit
Gci.itr,idiGtion, and Nietzsche might say that the t^upernixn
is he who surmounts this iron Uw of recurrence by hU vety
acceptance of it; the anstvcr U> however, not wholly tAttafaetory,
The superman m aUo obviously connected with Nietaiehe'a
*' immoralifim " ; he is the one who has found his way "beyond
good a.nd evtl/' The moral man is the tupgrtmu : the brute,
that is. who has risen to the perception of law. The sufittwtsm
Ih he who has p^s^ed beyond this perception, who umics the
instinctive lawlesanesg of the brute with the ic tell tgcat Uvleu-
ness and spontaneity of the super-moral man.
I
•mn SIGHTS OF THE «ANV AVD THE fUOHTS OF TUB PIW.
In 1^74 we find the following interesting passage in a letter
lo Niett^^he (com hi& friEnil Rohde :
December 13 — "Is there acyvhere a sensible account «t
ihe p-ofound re^^oluEion wrought in the condition ind aim^ of
intellectual life by the abolition of slavery? , , . Ob^iouUy
the supreme goal of Greek culture, Ihe right of scholarly leU ■
ure, was hereby placed out of reach, and, with it, many haid-
fihipE which were a condition of this principle, so oftrn per*
verted, like everylhing lha.1 is human. Nrvcrihekts, the fair*
«U fruitTL of calttir« have aSsa been Ion thereby, and can never
flourish again."
In these words wc have the Etatement of a very real prob-
iecn. and, hoi^rcvcT strcng mir democratic tendencies may be,
however little wc ma/ be disposed lo build even the fairest
AsdiUce on the living bodies oi our fellow-creature^, the fact
null remains, that some of the greatest benefactor? ol the hu-
ma.n race have been its thinker;, and that we owe some of the
first of those tbinkers^ a Socrites, a Plato, to a syaiem we now
bhor<
Nor is it only the philosophical . but likewise the icfthctic
ideaL which thrives under these condiiioniH There are rare
fixotic thoughts, deiicate shades of feeling and perception,
whirh have a human us welt aa a pergonal value, but which
can hardly be conceived of aa exUdng under ihc suesi of
aterial necessity.
Often I tind myself saying, in irony is it? or earnest?
'Yen, what i& more, be rich, O yc rich, be sublime in great
houses,
L^uflar that service be done yuMi permit of the page and the
valet.
Ca$t not to swine of the £tye the pearU that should gleam
nn your foreheads,
Live, be lovely, forget them, be beautiful even to proudness,
Even for iheir poor sakcs whose happjness ts to behold you.
Live, be unc«iring» be joyou>;, be sumptuouSp only be lovely
Not for enjoyment truly ; for Beauty and God's great glory,' "'
The problem 13 here turned on the rights of mere beauty to
hrive on a certain forgetfulnesa of surrounding want and ne-
ceifity. We cultivate hot-house plants, just for the sake of
their loveliness; why not also hot-hotise souh, aouh lempi^red
to every line perception and emotion, guarded from the sharp east
wind of fnaietlal duties- In the days of Plato, such a nation
was accepted without any dilTiculty; the high thinking of the
few was made possible by the plain living and hard work of
the many. But wjih u8» however much «uch a state of thing!
•'•TlwBedilf 111 TabsMiii-Vmrtleh," Br A. Cltmjrh.
may txhi^ vk cannot accept the fact with equanimity: we vt
re$t]cM and ditsaii^fted until we finA some solution of the
problem^
Tt> NicUichc this solution was pl&ln and defined; he be-
lieved Id thQ few and not in the many. "Thi»r »y» Z4f»'
tbouKrA, 'M£ whil my love for the disia.Eit demAnd» of aie, u
Aatif no citn for my rvargst.*' Mercilessjiess l»wjir(l» Ibv ti*My,
the near, the avcra^L", in ord^r to contribute lo the productkn
qI Ehe few, the dlsunc, the eminent. The policy th^t wouM
pursue "the greateat good of the greatvsl number'* was ab>
faorrent to him. as tending to perpetuate a low standard oJ
Attitninent. Hs did not deny the neccaalty of sacrifice for the
sake of a future and higher ideal, but he held that a deeao-
cratic philosophy was opposed to the A|iainm«nt of any ideal
at all. In his earlier dayi he had said;
"Every youikg aiin. should have this sentiment planted aftd
nourished in him, that ht is to regard himaelF as one of Na*
tufc's failures, but as also a proof of her great and wonderlnl
iatcnlion : she succeeded \\\, he must say to himiclf, but I
will bailor her intention by serving towards her better future
success." *
The end and intention of moral conduct were precisdy
thoie elements thereof which Nietzsche most emphaticAlly con-
demned ; but the end and intention of Nature he treats with
all reverence and submission. Thli was bccauie he conceived
the intention of Nature a« hidden, iuimeasu fable, in a sense
infinite; whereas he held that any definite intention of man
wi^ esseiiiiaLly timiTative.
In the same way to oppose Nature's proviiion for the de-
struction of the weak and usetesfi was to put ft near and lim-
ited aim, such an aim ss man by his own power can conceive.
In the place of the greater and more remote aim of Nature.
Ten thoLiaand average mec were not, m hia mind, woilh tntm
noble specimen.
This ts not a do^tHne cntrrely strange to theology, though
it is djflercatly interpreted in practice^ Nor is it so ea»y to
conciliate, by a superlicial constderalion, the conHicting rigfaia
of the few and the msuy, When it is sooiotinca our Jot to
ace a brave and noble man. cramped, dimiaislied, atteauaied
tn hi^ powers of mind and hea^i, by the service of (bo£D whot!^
19^6,]
Studies ox Friedrtcm nietzscme.
77?
multitude is p^ltr^ heside hia sipgk personality, we are some-
times Tempted to ask with Nietiiche : "Whence U progress to
cotne, so long ah the strong are «ver standing back to wait on
the slejis of the weak?" And yet who would or could say
that the noble arc to fulfil their destiny by wdkli^g over the
bodies of their feeble brethren? What then is the answer to
Xh\& complex diETiciilty ^
Perhaps the words of Professor Eucken, • in which he deals
with a djJTercnt but Icjndted probknij that of the mutuaJ reU-
tioas of the individual and sodeiy, will help us here. For the
rights of the many may bi: taken aa tho^e for which socieTy
Ims cbicily to cater, rights which are common and general; the
rightM of the few, which Nietzsche so stoutJy maintaiitc^d, may
•lAnd for those of the individual, which are private and some*
times exceptional.
Professor Eucken raises th« whole discussion to a higher
standpoint, when he shows us how the deep, underlying spir-
itual lite of Ihe universe must be the source of both social
And individual IJfe and rights, each drawing strength and full-
ness therefrom, or bo^h grow empty and SLiperfieiaL Neither
ii the individual dependent chielly on society, nor society on
Ihe individual; more immedtate than they are to each olhef i&
that eternal life to both.
So that, we may safely add. in order to appi/ this lec»on
to our own suhjectt the respective rights and status of the in-
dividual in regard to society, as of the few in regard to the
ni»n/. are to be proportioned, not by their relations to one
another, but bj' their relations to that greater whole
In 90 far as Ihe individual depends on society for his «b ate
of these n'>bier goodi, he ie to ba reverent. sub:niMivc» obedi-
ent to society; and this is the foundation of the obedience of
the citE£cn to tKe State, of the failhfLtl Eo the Church. In so
far, on the other band, a* the commtiniiyis dependent on the
individual for a higher participation of spiritual life, then the
community owes a certain delvrence and docility to its teachers.
Now to Nietzsche, iJ we take his teaching in a fair and
generous sense, there is no doubt that those few, to wl:ioTn he
would so ruthlessly sacrifice the many, represent juat that
nobler and more apiritual element; the men of higher percep-
tions, of wider virion, of stronger will, of richer performance.
'GtuSit' Strt09^lt9^tf Q^gmtun. 0!/ I'rerfwox Hudelph Euckcin,
7/8
Studies ok Fsiebskh NtF.TXscHE.
fM"..'
I
Ho was rjght in thinking that it was a dif&ster^ not oiUf lor
thcmiclvea. hut for the wi>r[d ar large, if men >iich At ibcfc
w«re iorced to abjure th« right us« of th«ir higher r«cuhi«a,
and ni^ki: thcitiAclvcs the seivants af b^scr<born natbrct, sti-
fling their aspiratiuna^ exhausting their powcrA in the punnt
of the <lull end$ oi ordinary mankind. Some of his violeci
inveCEive of Ihe weak:, and open admiration for the oxerciM of]
sheer bruUL str«(igrb, may be panly excuat^d %it the exprt4<
sion of his disapproval of this cult of thcdrrrii^/ ihe Dar^k'
icknittf- Lehm o| Eucken. The popular plsa for " the greaictt
happiness of the grcaiesi number/' too oftet* meanfl that there
is to be none of the noblest happiness for aay at alt ; that the
vaUcys are to be filled up with the debrii of the mountaia
peaks. But the glory of the mountain is reallf for God and
itssff and for The valleys ag wcU, On its iumtnJt appears, to
the lowly dwellers beneath, the fir*t glory of the Riorninf>, ibe
last splendor of the day; and lit its shadow they are protected
from Ihe storm? which the grrat and noble are the fim le
endure. Wc must remember too that Nieiische alloweil of ao
eminence which waB not founded oa self-conqueat' A Kespu
him^df ha& not taught us. more persistently And ecnphaticallf,
that the nearest and the deadliest enemy of ro&n i> h\s OVP
self. And one of the deepest reasons for his contempt of ihc^
ordinary man was that he thought him incapable t^i ekereiatog^l
the sternest self-disdpline. or of enduring the keenest suffer-
ing. The average man t^ies from pain; his JupcfOAa W4a to^
find in it the richcEt sources of life. ^|
But here were the faults which vitiated hi* system, which
made it seem a plea for the self-assertion of the few ai>d the
strong at the cost of the many and the weak^
Firstt much as he endeavored to dissociate him»etf from
Dfttwln^ the doctrine of physical evolution obacased fatm, and
he imported it, to an extent he himself never conceived, into
his own mure spiritual philosophy. He saw ihut the ways of ^
Nature were ruthless and unsparing; that the i?^H^-7A//r, thefl
bsan of prey, wa& a necessary element in her constitution ^
Tht Raiib-Thigr h.a.^ no Ekhruistlc conaidarationft, and we can
hardly conceive of an orderly universe In which ihc owl should
give himself up to Che service of the mouse, or the lion lay
down his life for the lamb. Hut the owl and The otouav, the
lion and the lamb, at least in these reipccti^, arc part ol
I9q6l]
STVnfES O/^ fRJEDniClI NIETZSCHE.
179
malerial and not of the spifiEual universe: they puftaVe of
those goods wtiich ate lessened by division; Ihc advAntaQ[e <A
the Doe U| individually, pofiitivdy, aittagonistlc to that of the
other; the good of the whole is advanced by the sullering o|
the part
This ift the scheme of physical nature which Nietzsche
thoughtlessly trarjaftrred to ft diflerent order, in which the ad-
vance of the one is not dependent on the defeat of the other,
A spiritual Raub-TJtUr i& a% monstrous and absurd a concep-
i tion as would be that of an angelic vampire. W^ do not want
to consume the spiritual essence of our neighbor in order to
g[row stronger our&elvce; if we gain anything from him it is
in so far aa, through him. we parlalce more Jully of an infmite
and inexhaustible btyond.
Furthermore, NictiAche ascribed the temperament of the
Raub-ThUr '}\iii lo those who are furthest removed from ic
We wJIJ not pretend to think that man has nothing in com-
mon with the beast of prey, nor even that he should have
nothing in common with it- But it is precisely in his average
Actions, in his life as one of a people or crowd, that this ele-
tnent is predominant and conspicuous, A populace or ft mob
ifli in humanity, what most resembles the brute creation* just
because it is irrational and impersona] ; while the nobler the
personality, the further is it remcved from the nature of the
beut. Hence Nietjcscbe made a coLosiol mistake in likening
his superman lo (he Rau/'-Thicr ; lor the vefy nobility of his
aims would raise him above the field of vulgar, material com-
petition <
And thf* second great defect of his doctrine concerniJiE the
few and the miiny. or the superman and the average man. is
thai, by thus cutting off the exceptional individual fronL All
• relation to a greater world without, he make? it impo&sjble to
And for him any siib^tHntial and independent justification.
That such individuals itavf a right and a justification we would
isost firmly maintain, but It cannot be found cave in fiocne*
thing which is greater than themselves, though imnianent to
them, just as ic is also greater than, though also immanent in,
^ the CTOwd beneath* The superman must, in fact, be judged
I in hi« relations to humanity by that which b greatest in them
^ both. Though &]so surpBSst(\g either; no relative standard of
I rights can be based on qualities which are present in one man
no
STt;i>iSS OS Fftl^DHICii Ni^TZSCIiH.
Mar,
■ad wholly lacking in the re£t. Th« conception of Nteix£che*s
ftupcrman needs for its complemcni thtr conception of EuckcA's
G«iftiev-Lcbcn (Spirll-ttfc) ; or eUe we merely substitme for ihe
falfAclei of ftlcruiam those of egoism, and for the tyranny of
Ihe many, the tyranny of the few, Man and auperraan must
converge in something greaFer ; must meet m !ho9e tntcresta
which admit of no rivalry, because they are inlimt« and etcinai.
On« of the chief characteriitics of tho superman was *<lf-
Aitertlon or independence; ihU independence wa& developed
lnt» a ftyat«ni of absciULle isolation* a[i isDUtion in which Zara-
thou»tra and the superman shared the faie of NUtzsche hln-
aelf- They went amongst men lo give of theii auperabun-
ilancc, but to receive nothing in return; they went back into
■oliEude, having gained nothing but an added eonicmpl for
mankind.
A% \ have already said, I believe that Nletrsche was mora
uniform and continuous in his development than is generally
ivppo&ed. Already, in his earliest wcrks, we have some hinti
of the ftutteriiun, and ^buniiant i^ints of this characteristic of
XU-AB>ertion^ In the treatise on Schopenhauer are already un-
deniable traces of his fundamcnial disagrfccienc with that pbi-
loMoplier on this very poiiiL For the *' reMgnation " of Schopen-
hauer WM lorally opposed to the self- assertion of Niet»chf-
Schopenhauer was inspired by the sorrows of life to utter u
omphalic jVp to iiulividual existence; this was hie method of
conc^ucring pam, a method of denial. Nietische, recognitivg
■Ito, At indeed his own circumstances forced him lo rec<>gnivei
the coiseries of earthly existence, parsed evcntuaUy to the verr
opposii[c extreme m his practical solution; pain vas to be con-
quered, not by denial* but by a more vigorous aSnnation of
life ia the very face of it ; an a^lirmaiion which should transform
it from the destroyer to the futfillcr of life, one oi its ricbcat
asd most fruitful elements. This is indeed the preraknt fiote
ol Niataache'c ptiiloiophy, for which cnany »i&a ud errors ahCttH
be forgiven Mm- If the superman was to asaen himself at the
eacpettK ol others, he was to do so fat inorc at bis own coat,
by Ihe at«ady, persistent coAqvest of all moodi of cowardice
I
1906,]
Studies o/^r fniEDfiicH Nietzschk.
781
And weakness. He was lo welcDine pain and ^fiDDl and old age
ilicU- *'Selbgt die Langeweile '*; ''even ledJum or ennui," says
Kieu^che, must be surmounted In the «ver onwftrd life of the
*' Sflhst die Lnngtweile," "«r» ennui " ; those who have cjc-
porience wilJ apprei^iate the value ot the partide, as Nietzsche
well dhows chat he hJm&elf appreciated it. He had knowi) that
most deadly of battles, the ivresile with hfs own irred, weary
*dr; that struggle to be alive in mind and heart, when even
the wUh seenia to be sealed in Apathy,
I-
Too dear the purchase one pays for life
In Kuch a hcart-wa&tin^ hour of strife.*
That hoor when life seems not even worth fighiine for.
Old age, too. not the old age that must inevitabl/, sooner
or later, arrive^ with its white hair and its furrowed counte-
nance, hut the old Bge af tired mind and stilTenrd heart, was
to be overcome b)* the superman.
" Wic all ich bin ! Wie jung icU kann noch werden ! " haya
Nietzsche in more than ore ol hia letters. "How old 1 ami
How young I may yet become!"
Like the pain that was to find it« end and its issue in joy,
0O wa; age to hand over its treasures of experience to a re-
newed yoath ; its gains preserved, its losses overcome.
"Profound Is the sorrow of the world, but hi joy is stiU
di^pfr. Sorrow says: 'Pass on and end/ but joy demands an
elernity^a profound eternity." t
We are meeting, in this ideal of humanity, the ideal of art
with which wc have already made acquain^ance^F Niet£sche*&
itm in both was the full, the self-assertive, the strong, the
mllhant, the creative type, as against that which l> needy, dt*
pendent, delicate, plaintive, parasitic. The superman Lb to give
of hi5 superabundance, to pour forth on others the overflow of
hit own riches. It is an absurdity for the needy man to be*
stow almi, he has net the wherewithal; he will part only with
his own retuse arid disease.
"Wish nothing beyond your strength/' says Zarathoustra;
a sentence which reminds ui of Marcus Aurelius, and his "Do
nothing against thy own will." The supreme enemy of the
7Si
SrUOiES Oif PRlEDRiCH N/ETJ^C//£.
[Mir,
laperman is the parasite, a being cKicCly op^o»ite ia its <hu*
acterisLtcs,
"The most loathsome beast that I havf found unoogii
men/' aayg Zarathoustra, '* is that which I have named pan-
site; it loves noi, but woutd Vive on love,'*
" In the apett where the strong arc weak, where the no^lc
are over tender, there the pafasitc builds its horri*! iwM;
dwelhng in the eii^k: K^ornnrs iif ihr great man . , and i1
IS juft the highesE species which harbors the Urgeai nuntbcr oi
paratites.'*
In the Gtnfah^it dsr M^r&i many pages are contecraic^ to
the same therne. "The siclc," he says, *'ftrc tbc gr«att«t
dftfiger of the strong"; and he develops the eyil of con-
tagion, the weakening eiTect on the best And highest of c«i>
linuaUy sinking to the lower ]evtl, Wc know already how he
applird his niies to hiiosclf, and how he shrank from pity in
hU own sutTerings.
Let philanlhropist*! cry out as they may, we cannot kd-
ously deny the existence ol ihc evil ol which Nietxsche »peak^
If there have been tinies when the stroo^ protected them-
selves at the expense of the weak, there \% perhaps tomwhat
a reversal of the order At present. Do we not o>ften wtt the
physical health of an entire family deteriorating under tb« in*
^neAce and demands of one sick member? And, in the imel*
IcTCtU^I and moral order, does not the ^ame thinjf happen AOfe
frequently* and with stUl more deadening tcsuIee? Well enoagb.
did the ive^k at le^st profit by the strong, did they gain what
the others lost- Hut too often there \^ no toch result. The
true parasite possesses the secret of exhanMinc ten rlgorotii
natures without growing stronger himself
Let U5 not leave ihfft matter open to BtiAapprrhcnsion.
There are those who arc sick And siiflcring, in body or soul,
but who are not. for this, to be termed parasites. Like the
old Cumberland beggar of Wordsworth* they are a bleMing
to the rest of the world. The strength expended on ibem adds
to thefr own, and they ma.ke a return, though in a different
kind.
But in these days, when we call our friend "^troagf and
healthy" in order io in»ult hint, there is a form of weakness
which d«sire$ to be weak ; which uies up the strength ol <iiher»
Id reaLiaiH aJi the dctfiiis of its own misery- Uitteaac has a life
1
I
I905 ) STVD/£S on FfeiEZtaWN MSTZSCf/S, ;Si
of Its own as well as hGallh. and some iWe by their dlsrafic
and make n^ many as ihey can, Jive by it aJso. This is ilie
paraKitc — a being which may be rightly guarded against and
restrained.
Bui NictJ^sche forgot ihal ihe p&ra^iic also must receive
his share of the exhortation. So long as we believe in the
individual bumdo soul, we cannot think thai any nature h
whoLfy and hopeEessly parasilic. There mn^t be some sound
beaTtby point Jrom which the kver may be worked. We h*ve#
moit of us, the paramic corners of our nature; but ibc strict-
ly parasitic have also surely some htalthy spot; some noble
element to whifh we may appeal. We do not good, but harm,
when our sympathy helpa the weak to rcuiain weak; our as-
ftisiance is pernicious when it brings no appreciable result- It
tt easier to ptly than to strengthen, but the Jormcr wiihouf
Ihe latter is an injury and not a benefit, Wc muit adopt,
both for ourselves and others, that other maKim of Znrathoua*
Ira, remembering that "it is the way of noble souls lo take
nothing for nothing"; and that, wc must "not even wish t^
enjoy without alao giving joy ^n return." We must r<?mem-
bcr, in fact, that weaknuss, however much sympathy it may
manage to obtain. i& still weakness; that misery, even tliough
pitied, is still misery. We must not glory in our shame, in
our power of exciting interest in our own sores and wounds.
Wc man praciiee the noblest self-help, and not drain others
without any real goad to ourselves. The true glory of the
«ufFcrer is not in his power of eiceiting commiseration, but in
his power of transforming his pain into a triumphant joy. For
2arathou£Era Is right, and joy. noi pain, is the deeper element
of life.
IIL-
1 NLetitsche overlooked one inevitable constitEtenI of hi* much-
* loved creation — the element of devotion. All men. he thought,
ihould conspire by their sacrifiees to the production of the
superman; he for>;ot that it in just this latter in whom tho
elemenl ol icU sacrifice will be ever the sirongeftt. It is not
I the weak whr> yietd them9«Lv«s up for the i^ood of the itrong;
L the mean for the noble; but ju&t the opposite. The first
784 Studies on Friedrich Nietzsche, [Mu.
action of th« superman would be to place bJtnsclf at the fnt
of the under-man, to serve and not connnaad.
Nietzsche would have stoutly contradicted such a theory,
and, so long as he confined himself to the Napoleonic type,
with logic and justice. But his superman was more than a
Napoleon J he was a spiritual, not a material conqueror. And
these are just the men who neglect themselves for others lad
for something greater^ who have the least sense of theii pri*
vate importance because they have the greatest sense of ti
imperishable ideal, and an immortal aim. In vain were Nidt<
sche's doctrine of unselfishness to such men. It Is the befti
and not the worst, who give themselves for their brethreO)
it is the richest and not the poorest who are self-wasting and
spendthrift.
And so the superman, if he came at all (and he ooee did
come), would come to die and not to Uve. And this in no
spirit of pessimism and mere resignation, but in that of joy
and hope. His belief in a reality greater than himself, in a
fuller life lying hidden in his own soul, as in that of the weak-
est of bis brethren, would strengthen him to sacrifice his own
existence to the accomplishment of that nobler ideal in hi>
own heart and in the hearts of all mankind. The superman
would come on earth to lay down bis life for the rest of
mankind.
LE BRAZ-THli I'OI-T 01" "LA l^ETITI: UKETAGNK,"
BY JOSEPH DUNX^PhPk
[HE express for Brest, il you please?"
" Five o'clock, sir. Yes; it is due at Rennea
at midniglit"
At ihe Gare Montparnasse the tine of trav-
elers, with chcir band baggae^, waited for the
wicket to open anri admit them 1o the long train o( red-brown
coftche* marifcd Omxl.
A, fine prospccij I thought, It will be plcasinl to sit for
£«vea boutfl on the wooden bench of a dimly-lighted compart-
ment. tint 1 was not destined to be alone in the gloom.
Now one and then a second head poked in at the window
and a*ked if there was roonj. With the (oresight of the
French, the new-comers had provided thcrnselvcs the wherc-
vilhoJ to add comfort to the journey. The younger pasitnger,
apparently a student, took a &niall pillow from hU valise and
placed ii snugly under his h&ud and shoulders; after a while,
the older man produced a bag of rolls and a bditle of dark-
blnc wine.
Versailles. Saint-Cyr, Ramboutllet, Maintenon, with all their
nteniories, Acw by in the night; the few scaltcrcd tights of
hts Essaris-lc-Roi, Nogcni-lc-Roirou, Yvrtf-i'Eviquc, La Mi-
leaee'ta-Haj^oge blinked aE us lurtively. The origin of their
odd, mcdi;evat names was more than we could conjecture^
By the big towns we aped, Le Mans^ Laval, wrapped Iq
sleep; from this point the rails are laid on Breton soil, but
the namei of the rtvers, villages, hills, are still Roman and, as
a conscientious phitologcr, though half asleep, I murmur theJr
etymon,
Ry the time our destination is reached, Celtic names pre-
dominate over the Latin, and wc alight at Rcnnefi, which, in
Giulish times, was the stamping-ground of the Redonca, a
Ifibe whose name survives in that of their chi?f town, and who
dwelt along the Visnaine, or Vicinonia, as it was called in
GaJlo-Roman times. This same river ha^ given the name to
VOL. Lxxxri.— 50
the D«partiiitnt &n^, by chancre, hut evolved into the same
form af the French t*i/itim^, wtth whose nicanif>£« however^ U
h^s Qothmg in common.
Our JiMnne or Baedtk^r (cJU ns ihat Rcnnes was forraeriy
tlH capital of tadepejident Brittany, the residcDcc of Its duke*
tad the seal of its padixment- They mform us that, in the
eighteenth century, the ci»y was almost «ri|irely destroyed by
a fife which lasted a week : that it has a population of some
fleventy-fivc thousand, and is one of the most important mili-
tary posts of France, being the hcadqtiatters of the Tenth
Army C^rpd; that ii is pre-emmcntly the Catholk and udU
vernly city of Brittany and the undisputed centie of the in<
ttlltCtitaJ life of ihe Province. They mention the bishopii,
historiaai* ItttCf^Mar*, publicists, aeientists, lawyers, artists, antj
politlfilAiu. dovQ to Boutanger, who have made it Ulustnout,
mmI thm. Like ihc truthful and Irustworlhy guides tbcy ar«,
they add. tmder the breatb as it vefe, that it is a dull, silent
town, aad tbat n few hours' vJstl will sufGce for the hurried
tonntt to inspect iL
The city spreads oa a lovely plain; in cantrs*it with which
w% tlia btock forastft igaiiui the low, heavy, skyline. YdJow-
grty patba* viark^ by row5 of stubby willowy, stretch across
llw iMIv I love tbc M^tiU-'vUtf, with its massive buildings,
itif«t« and co^, its broad promenades and spacious squares,
t<w araplVt in fact, for the number of its people; the Sastt'
tJtJTi Wb«rv the barracks are and the tottering oM houses
^if^lUng \>*tr the cobbles oi the dark, narrow, winding streeui
H*r«. uJtom^ the Vilaine, which llows in a heavy atream be*
tw«ou aofid walls oi granite, and separates the upper from
Ikv l*>#»r town, are the iJuais eft LamfHtiaii^ dt Saint- Yvti,
S'OrUt^Jt Jf CAattffubriijXnii, a.nd dt t' C/xivfrsi//.
It wa» a unique class that met about sunset in one of the
Imi* #i|///-' oJ the Facility d^t Iftlres for the conferences of M>
\% dayvn Loih on the Breton dialects^ Not only were aJI the
It^nrtra CeltoLogues, but they were Celts themselves, all but
OOP helnjf brttennantfS , thflt is, Breton speakers, and, what Is
alUI nu»r« remarkable, no two of them speaking the sante dia-
Ifltitn Lfuillom*! ^eorgic whs the text aboul which M. I« doyen
wuv« hie learned commentary, but, bting himEelf h bas-Vannr-
Uii from Gu^m^n^'SurScorff, ajid che poem being b the baut>
VAniiviAii. the reading of the original was assigned to "Job
I
I
t906,]
The Bmetojv Poet,
?«7
cr GI^d/* the authoi of several mysteries that ar« played In
ihe popular ronguc, and a native a\ the very bourg where
GuiUoni had been born. The phonetic variations of ihe Leon-
ard were furnished by the baid " Glanmor/' while the anti-
f|uaHan and folklorist. " Ar Uretaer," to call xhtm sX\ by their
bardic names, had the pronunciation peculiar to iha CetncnaiU
//lis. The Cii/e de ia nnaiisartct. not far away, was the resort
tu which the enthusiasts adjourned to discuss those questions
for which there was no time nor place in the cUss-room, Al-
though these reunions were only a distant echo of the Celtic
diniieTE over which Renan used to preside at Paiis. nrverlhe-
icBs ihe topics of Celtic art and letters and l^art-Celiism, at
leaiC. had not changed for the coterie of neophytes who, in
regular Breton f^i^hion. sat over bowU of cider, &I1 except the
abbc» who Sipped an Amer-Ficon.
To the group who followed the lectures on Celtic philology
in the imposirLg gray building that look& upon ibe Vileinv,
niu^t be added the name of one who, in the course on Breton
dialectology, was the source of our information on the idiom
of Tr^guier, and who has since those days been promoted to
one of the professorships of French literature At the University*
But it H not of M. Anacolc Le Braz, the savant, d0cttnr
h Uitfts, hiMorian of the theatre of the Celts, litterateur,
whose writings have appeared tn the Ktvut Celti^e. the An-
naics dt Bttra^nt. and less Bpccialiied reviews^ and whose
poems and novels have been crowned by the AcAdtmy, that I
am to tell here, but of Le Braa as the poet of ihc Bretons'
"fttiir /arr$f" and the successor of Briteux, Luxel, Kenan.
Of these three forefunnerE, who have added ko much to
Brittany's share in the glory uf Trench literature, the spirit of
the last mentioned, as I think, is the one ihat Le htnz shares
leasts A devout admirer and compatriot of Ernest Renaiij
born in that same corner of the mountains of Trt-gor, whose
rude natural beauty he ha^ described with wonderful power and
delicacy, Le Brat his devoted many pa^es to the childhood
t>l the author of the Sifuvtvirs tttnfarue tt dt jtunesa and lo
bis achool days at the College de Treguier, down lo ihc erec-
tion, vefy recently, of Ihe famous statue which was the cauat
of *o much strife and which now stands face to fdce with the
Gothic purch oJ the Cathedral, a jarring note to the beJls that
never ceased to tinhle in the wanderer's ears.
7S3 Le Braz [Mar,,
So great was the perse verance^ exactitude^ aad zeal of
Francois- Marie Luze?, as a aeeker out and collector of the
scattered remains of the native folklore and Che oral tradition,
that he was known as the "Wandering Jew of Brittany"; but
the disciple has outstripped the master in his pious pilgrimages
to the shrines of his country's past. To the collaboration of
the two is due the GwetEtcu Briis-Ital, Popular Songs of Brit-
tany- One can appreciate the poignant interest of the liille
dramatic pieces that form this coLLection, even without referring
to the Breton originals, from the tragic story of Ttypkina
Ktranglas. The episode of this poem could not but have
been suggested by Brizeux' Marie; it is distinctively Breton,
and, in spite of the French language, to which the theme \%
foreign, Le Braz has succeeded to a remarkable degree in pre-
serving the quaintness tinged with melancholy that character-
izes this class of popular songs.
In the preface to Tryphina Ktranglas be says:
II me platt de vivre au vieux temps
Oil notre race cut son printemps. . . .
Comme La nuit, couvert de voiles,
IL est, comme ellc, plein d 'Voiles I
Brittany is, more than any other^ the land of the past, and
many of its legends Live as fresh in the memory of the Breton
of to-day as when they first took form in the minds of his
distant ancestors- To my mind, the great value of Le Bras'
work lies in this, that he has taken hi? inspiration from the
Breton soul aud is moved by sympathy lor the people and the
customs of his native land.
Ici se songe encore le songe des vieux ages,
he sings, and it has been his privilege to save the greatest
number of these souvenirs from the wreckage of his country's
heritage, and to express them with absoLute sincerity.
These pictures form an aLbum of photographs of the Breton
Celt, with his deep-set blue^gray eyes and fat away look; the
strong nose, the pensive smile on the thin, set Lips, Scarcely
a phase of life in la Btetagne brttonnanU^ except the Morbihan,
whose dialects are not so familiar to Le Braz, that has escaped
I906]
THE BitETOS POET,
7*9
his observation And that does not tind a pla^e In Ibis collec-
tioo^ Whg has tcld $o cxquUlUly and touchingly (be wcatth
of sentimcnl attached lo one of the mo^t interesting survivals
oJ mediajvat Europc^lhc pardons^xh^i^^ half- religious, half-
festive ob&ervdiiceE whkh are the greatest events chronicled in
the aimplE calendar of a Itrelon vi]la|;e, 1 1 is not to the
pardon of Sainie Anne at Ajuray, best known to toumts who
follow the beaten tracks that Au Pays dti pardom \t devoted,
but to the patrons of countless chapcie and wayside CalvarieE
hidden amang the valleys and mountains. In it Le Brass brings
out the religious lore and the depth and delicacy of that form
of woiship which, only the other day, a Corni^hoian declared
to be tht; mo^t beautiful of ail religions — UrcCon Catholicism.
A stratum of paganism, into which Christianity did not
filter down, atill remains deep In the Breton heait^ the foun-
tains and ih(? standing stones are Mill regarded with a. certain
Awe and veneration. Fatalism, a strong belief in dreams, curi-
ous superstitions and practices in regard to the dead, and fa-
miliar conversation with thost beyond the lomb are £o im-
bedded in the Breton nature that some would regard as 5trik*
ingly symbolic the m§nhir which, the early missionaries, far
from casting down, surmounted with a cross^
Thi^ uncanny preoccupation with the idea of death, and its
curious personificacion Ankvu^ is the constant theme of La Le-
^tnds dt la mart cket let Btetom Armvficaint- Thc^e wvTrd
tales and the ^wrrricu,* the sffnrou.f and the lives of saints are
the stabile ol entertainment of the long winter evenings in a
Breton cottage. ^.? NtKes noirfs dt Guttnakam introduces us
10 several of these aolemn meetings, which begin aa soon as
the night prayers have been laid in common a^ in the old
patriarchal times. "They ate the charm of the rustic life in
Brittany/' says Le brae, *" these veitUts, and perhaps the most
•ignificani manlEestation of the old clan spirit, Evecy
farmhouse of any importance becomes the traditional ren-
dezvous of the less fortunutc |ieasan(5 of the naighborhood^
They arrive in band* from every aide. The men carry the
hemp CO be combed, the women come carrying their di^UlT
fastened by a ribbon under ihc arm. Eucli one takes a place
*Tbc jiMwwr (Dm|inH liMiont*]- Ivfrndiiy, tuiTulfa, iml nui>i'f« lorLfx
I jfTlc poeti/-
790
LE BRAZ
tM-T..
whArr he rtnde '\X., and atl who come are welcome^ not excrpt'
ing even the beggars in search of a bed, nor ihe hincrart
•Inifcr* and eliapmcn atid the vagrant pedtars of [jnages. The
bouMTMrire receives them all with the tiine- honored ffeeting:
'Tike 4 (tool and come near the tlfc,'" Then, at the word
fr^m the miiTi of the bouse, cnlbroiicd in his armeh^ir of m«»-
flive oak, and while the warm cider is passed around in yellow
cartbcn Udles. each one apeaks Jn turn. And, throug^h ihe
flight, behind the crucifix carved in Ihe panels of the great
lit €ltti. ihcy dream over the spcetrcti Ihey had Just shuddered
at or of (he cye> whose secrets th«y had tried to read,
Le Bra£ draws on his recollections of childhood for lb«
truth of these sceres. He ha£ taken the le^end^ and tradi^
tlona from the lips of thetr Eate^t guardians. If !t be trite, u
the Breton and the Irish proverbs have \\, that it takes nicf
taiiorn To make a man, Jt may be reloricd, without ga^nsay^
that ic iakc& nine men lo make as good a story-teller. Curf-
ou»ly enough, many of the sayings and adventures that have
the tailor as hero are common to Ireland and Brittany, and
doutitlcfs are derived from a common source. In the one land
u in Ihe other the country snip revolves tn a fixed orbit
KU advent and stay at a farmer's house, perchance to aG<
couire (he gallants tor a weddingn is an event long to be «•
membered. The old women, who pass the time winding flax
a* they ait on a grass-covered mound while they watch the
cowa, arc aliio faithful depositories of the old traditions; or,
ftgain, the »hcpbcrd boy, the hvgtl^ the Imh httatXiaiU, wbo
dreams on a lonely height under the t\Kx% and ainga his
■ong to the sheep and the neighboring hills. The ctrolling
maker* of wooden ftho«s accumulate a jtock of stories as tbty
iTud^e from place to place, hut no one h^s had better oppor-
tuaitiea in this respect than the oid women who are engftged
by those who are unable themselves to make the trv Brtit,
the vUit to the aevcn principal shrines of 3rittany, which is
•till, to aome extent, believed by every Breton to be e:uenlial
to the salvation of his soot, Smugglers, charcoa} bvrDCfs,
cofdwainers, are the stary-ielTer^ of ihe ConUi jiu icUU tf dt
/■> tifuttf, which, {{ not so thrilling as some of l.c Brai' other
works, yet show his (inc sensibility for the imaginative beauty
ftnd simplicity of the tales by which the native sout ic en-
chanted.
[9o6.]
7he Breton Poet,
79t
It must xiQ\ be overlooked, however, that not a little oE
the cbariQ of th*jfie pictures is du£ to the pkluresquejieM,
atrangenefis. and antiquity of the frame in which thejr are (et.
O Breji-ijcel, o k^eia vrol
Koat cnn he c'hreis. mor cnn he srol
^^^0
O Brittany, my own dear land.
The woods in thy heart and the sea lOund aLiouI 1
ftre lines from some Breton poet. Tbld cufltomary divlilon of
Britlatiy into Ar^ttat (the wcioded land) and Armrrr (on th«
ka) is observed by he Braz. and both parts are deschbed with
inimitable skill. We follow him through the religfous silence
of the Forest of PaimpoDt where, at Broccliandrc, Viviane still
holds Merlin under an invisible charm, across the moors,
waving with the yellow ti/omrs toward the rose-colored spires
of embroidered stone, whence rises the thin, faint sound of
bells lolling the Angelus from village 1o village as darkness falls
on the little Breton communities.
I know not whether the poetic spirit of the race lingers
with greater delight upon these fragments ol Arcadia or upon
the needles of granite that gird the " Bay of the Dead." The
Seatle melancholy that pervades the Breton landscape Is uii<
mlatakable here as there; it is undoubtedly more penetrating
In Armor under the clouds that rush in troops across the
wind-swept sky- It is an indelible impression of de^oUtion
and abanilonment that wc receive on the dismal days that
ark the beginning of winter on these granite slopes; the
olorleES smd-banka on the strand, the weather-beaten Calva-
ries extending their gray arms against the grayer horiion ard
the btacketicd, mi^ty cYi&s that face the sea.
The remark that M. GftMon Deschamps ftttributcG to the
mistress of a Farisiart saJ\.'H, in calling the attention of her
guests to Le Bras' Lt Sang tU la Sir^ru, then running in the
Jtrt'ttf iff Paris, that " rV *i /f sent <fe la mtr." expresses best
Ihat quality in which he is unsurpassed. There ^s scarcely a
page of hin work that doc:'^ not carry a whiff of the salt lur.
it is not always the monotonous, icy. Inert mass that we had
learned to know from Loti's P^ktur J'htaniU. Le Braz shows
the sea in all its moods, at once lierce and caressing, half
nonian. half beast, faithlcsE yet ever trusted again, and vrhb ■
£ftial sway thftt cannot ba escaped- Now he dtadoB«s her catm
awakening, h«r face unruffled by a ripple, or again, dimpM
with St xhoiisand mysterious smiles, displaying herself voluptu-
ously ^nd alluring with an irresistible seduction; "the eternal
siren, ncir&e and slayer of men, source of hi^w many dcliehTs,
of ht>w itiAny tcarsj inccp^antly cursed, unswervingly loved."
It is at Paimpol, where the harbor brisUes with the niasis
oC a thoutand iifibing'Smachs, that wc ntcct the hard> ^tir^
d*fslandg ; there they make their home for ihr half oi the
year^ when they are not off the Aords of Iceland, And all nho
hive gone out do not return, and thou the snow-white isijf4
of the PaimpDlaise dioops its wtng like a wounded guLI.
Directly acroas the pcTiin$ula lies the Gulf of Morbihao
dotted with islands that sparkle "like emeralda encha««d \tk
t!uid gold " ; and there is an Ule, ii is said, for each day i& the
year- Le Bras ^ves us only a glimpse of that delightful spot.
He lays hif scenes by preference about the wild and atoray
Pointe du Rax, the moft western point of contineotal France-
To Oae*(sant and He de St<tn, the sacred Sena of Ihe druJdessei,
he brings us in Le Sun^ de la Sir^nt. There the Rat spread!
over a city of the liead. There, in the bay, lies \%, wbicb
once outrivaled Paris in splendor and revelry, until thai awfal
night when the princess, Ahcz, or Dahut, as the U called bj
some, perifhed for her wickedness under the wave». At cer-
tain times the turrets of ihe sunken city and its biillittnt halU
arc to be seen, and the shades of those who were shipwrecked
on the rocks stalk the beach at night wailiog and cTybg fof
remembrance and buriaL On one of the chain of islands,
that extend from this bleak point into the Atlantic, wa^ once
enacted the most atrocious drama which the tragic annals of
the Has record. I-e Cardien du F/u^ the aulobiogriphy of the
keeprr of the light of Gortebella, shuws wcitulrrfiil pnwnr of
construction and description and, perhaps, vome signs of the
influence cf Pierre Loti ; it Is the story of an intentate, vio-
lent pa'ssion, of faithleEsness and diabolic vengeance.
Some of the choicest of the Chansms df /a BreSsp^t have
been set lo Breton melcidjes by M- Bourgault-Ducoudray, tA
the Coitservaioirt. On a memorable occasion at the Lyc^ oJ
Rennes. the spell of which still holds ihoae whn had the ^oorf
fortune to be present, the charm of son|; wa> united to the
1906-]
The Breton Poet.
793
graceful verses of Lc Brar by the redlal of Ibe poet himaelf,
and the musical settmg by th« composer and the tantatfie4
who had come from Puis to interpiet them.
[t may be more than a currous colnciderce that both Doctor
Douglas Hyde and Professor Analole Le Brai, the Gad and
the Breton Mvho occupy the largest p[ace in the liteiary rcviv^t^
and the reavvakcning of the native spirit which arr* now attract-
ing so much attention in both branches of the Celtic family,
ftre to visit America in the same year to tell of the inteileciual
wealth of the Iri&h past and Armorica's coairibuiion lo the
literary wealth of Europe, to express the hopes of the Celtic
race and the need of preserving its spirit as one of the most
necessary elements in modern life. The words of the poet of
iff ftliit patrif, in his preface to Theodore Botrer* Chnnsons <i4
<ktt ftous. might be supposed to be. mutatis mutandis, taken frotn
the leader of the Gaelic League, the Ct/Joi/'Ain At^ibhinn.- "It
is rot only the language that is threatened; the whole Breton
<o«l is menaced. That flower of sentiment whUh wm it*
adornment, and which in its day perfumed the world with it«
fragrance. Is In danger of fading and withering through con-
tact with a materialistic and cynical civllixatlon/'
YEA. LET HIM TAKE ALL."
A^^x <bt, dnr IpOvd, auglit «ls«l In pity de^fn*
To k«re nnqovscbed tbis light, unhushcd this soag
Th^t. riaf las nudJl ilic shadows, sti]la v}j pain
Ami ip*akTi 10 m« of tbee) Didst thou Dot long
!■ thj UtvMl AfOdy. wfaca Peter filepi,
AttA Qoac was Ibnad to share thy grivf, that he,
Cvtt bdttr at lca:n, bad patient waldicd, and w«pi
Qmm hnrlng htimaQ t«ai« to i^Duifoil th«e?
'■^IM MA Uilne lumd be ilack," he whiftper^ !ow
^Tkt white I, wMpinjf, struggled with my pam).
''Hire n« thy trvn«iir«, «nd thy heart shall Icdow
Ttrau haat not made thy sacriiice in vain.
AU iu<^ly, All light, I called of old
Kituu the MhyM, and truly they arc mine;
Y«| I ba\<e higher gilis for thee 1 BEbold
1, Unaiblnjc Into man my quickening breath,
Hildiwd hia Aoul with attributes as widt
A« iDy tufinitnde. Dway aod death
Al* ImII my mesacagcrs to turn aside
IIU liaart ftom all »avc me. Not mff«- X give
AUtltl -<-) Mtn would give myself to be
Thfl v»ry IJfv whereby thy soul shall lire-^
i9o6.] " YEA, Let Him take all." 795
Thy light, Cliy joy, tliy immortality I
Thy hearth can never be leit desolate.
If thou make me thy guest ; tior shall the power
Of any foe oppress if thou but wait
On me. 1 bid Chec take as thy fair dower
My thorn- wreathed head, to think of thee though thou
Forget. My toil-worn, nail-pierced bands to rest
In blessing on thy head. My back to bow
Beneath thy every burden. And my brcflat
To be thy resting place whereon to weep,
That I may comfort thee. My broken heatt
To shelter thee, to share thy pain^ to keep
Thee aafe, till swift-winged time shall have no part
Id all thy life. Then, then will I restore
All thou hast giv'n - and thou shalt ahare with me.
Where sacrifice and death shall be no more,
My peace, my kingdom, my eternity.*'
TUEPRAVEROP CHRIST.
sir OBOSrOB nrMRELU BJ.
V-
■^■M^BHE KBTOCttHoo: "Our Fathpr who art in Hf^aven,"
^P^^H^I ta itelfVed to bring the aoul Jacc lo face ^vith
V^^^^^l God ia th« secrat chamber ol the heart; to il«*
^^^r^K tvrmtDc it» attUuiIc and di&pofiilion ; to establish
^^■■^m Am dut rrltttion of mind, leeling. and wiJi which
hi llbt «MillCiMt of communion and converse between the crea-
MlV tvl CVMtOt. When we call to anoibcr in our need, his
MtfM w ff iO hmX to attract his attentinn; but wh«n the child
44l»: ^V^tlMi" Cbc ftppeal it net tacrciy ta the attention, but
^ %^ WMti ft is A roistader of the relationship upon which
^ rlflil to a|»(>eal U grounded,
~\%« MOl^r nuy for a moment forget the bsbc that cliogi
\i^ hfv ^rvMl; her attention may be diverted till a cr^ wini
lA h*vh l4E«ift- Hut the Bitention of the Heavenly Father it
%M UU^itvct for a second; t\sc we should return to nothing-
%tmi '^11* ah aU neither itumber nor steep, that keepeth Israel,"
\\ U not to call liU aitciLtion io U5» or to remind him of
tUiiu* «^lch h« never ccjues to fullil, but to recall our wui-
llttlniE *^*^l ^^ ^^^ conscEounneas of that love which, like the
^\^H\^ arat aurtounds and jiermcatee us, that we need to cty
Vilkt iVi hUli-
VI,
In ii>aur '■' ^^* ethnk rellfrions the worship of departed
4lkV*«ltii* hav aiaociated ihe hoIlojih of godh<^ad and father-
|»tMi<t. Thi tilU "father" in such caaea exprrsst^ principally
|i^# «iira|lJp|>ar'a >ea» of deiccnt and dedvatton from the
1iatlr< ^^ tLlo ^n the far higher plane o/ philodophical reli'
|hM|i< whtiv Iha Urm il applied in a quite metaphoncal sense
• CWiluHid frvui ilitJuiuriF Catholic WatiJ],
19q5.]
The Prayer of Christ.
:^?
to the Fir^t Cause of all th!ngs» to the "dt^orum hommumque
paler "^lo "the Tathcr oi gorfs and men,"
But in the ears of Peter, Andrew, ^nd John the flcnte of
the word ■* Father/' as applied to God, was far more ethical
than metaphysical. To a Itttic chitd, untroubled about piob-
leros of Whence and Whither, ihe word "father" conveys no
suggestion of descent or derivation. It stAnds for ethical re-
lationships of love, care, protection, intimacy, ai^iThority To
the physical or metaphysical root of these reUtionahips the
child is indJiTerent. The/ themselves are matters of experi-
ence; their toot is a matter of speculation — of inference from
that experience. God's fatherhood over Israel was a matter
of history and experience for Christ's hearers^ Israel waa hU
well- beloved son, whom he had chosen and adopted; whom
he had delivered from Egypt, fed and watched over in the
desert, brought to the l^nd of Promise; whom he had borne
with, chastened, and forgiven agam and again with all the
long-suffering and compassion of a Father. This, rather than
any causal relationship, is what his fatherhood meant for them.
"1 wit] be to him a Father and he shall be to me a son"
unpliefl a fatherhood and sonshrp of adoptiorj rather than of
namre. It was a mystery of God's free choice, a favor gratited
to Israel and denied to others: "Jacob have 1 loved and
Esau have I hated"; "He hath not done thus to any other
n&lion, nor manifested bis judgments to them/' The fact that
all alike were his creatures was not felt to be cnoogh to make
them all alike his children- The special and higher sense of
sonship which belonged to Israel, was interpreted excluEJvely
aa the only sense; if God loved Jacob, tt seemed to follow
that he must hate Esau- Depending on God's free choice
rather than on his essential love, this fatherhood over Israel
wai conditional on the obedience and reverence of the adopted
son, whose sin or apostacy might break the bond. That it
had not done so a thousand limes, that God had forgiven
affain and again, was but another mystery of his inscrutable
wilh
With ih« growing scTLse of God's otherness and Iranscen-
detit greatness, as revealed by the prophets, the distance of
heaven from earth had been magnified in the general conscious-
ness, while the ains of Israel ro^e evt^r higher as a barrier be*
tween them and the AlUfloly, of whom righteousness was more
L
J98
TJiB PLAYER OF CfiRiST.
tli«r.
And more cleaHy realLzed to be the centra] aitributc. It frt»
as when we wake to some unexpected greatnc4> in a fricsd
which ficcms to pat him out tA our re&ch Bud dcKlroy aII R^av
of iDtercourse. In \\%, though not in him, »i>me fc«iiuB of
eAr&ngeaicnt is inevitable; and he will need lo give SOAc Dew
revelation of his unaltered affection^ if be ib to restore our
■nfidencc. So Christ cftTnc as the newest and highest rcvela-
lon or the Father's love, when Israel's scnac of lonahip had
been weakened by the (cnse of God's transceodcttce and nn-
tihen«Be, and of man's sinfubess. Who couJd dar« lo call bim
Father whose infinitude seemed toexdade a31 possible likenew
with the lin^te ^ Who fiouid ^ive men power (o btcome the
9on3 of 90 high and holy ^ God ?
I
vir
c
Id one aen«c it lb untrue, in another it U irve, to aay that
Christ tirat revealed to men the Fatherhood of God- What
was an occa&lon^l Habh of intuilton for the greater prophrtii,
wat with him an abiding vlsioD of which his whol« Life wa>
one continuous utterance. The relative purity and tranquility
of heart which at times allowed thecn a ghmptc of the aources
or roots of the spirii-Jife, wde in hU case abtolote artd con-
stant. He looked down through the depths of bU own tpirit
as through a i;ry$ta] well of li^ht into the abyva of ail life and
b«ing. into the bosom of God "the Father of i^iritt-" " Ko
man/* no prophet, not even the greatest born of woman, " bath
seen God at any time; the only-begoitea who Ja in ibe botom
of the Father, he hath declared him,"
In this vision he beheJd the root and reason of that father-
liness of aJTection and care, which to Urael had teemed but a
mystery of God's !n$ciuiable wili- He (aw rhat In all itfl de-
grees, from the Least to the greatest, it was founded on true
faihcrhciod ; thai it was the love of the parent for fail oSapring,
of the Creator for the creature, of the Source of life aad being
for every measure oi liEe and bemg. natural Artd fcupernaluraJ,
in which he has reproduced hi^ own image^ With Christ this
sense of their derivation and descent from God waa ever pres-
ent; the bond of cr«aturehood, invisible to other eyes^, was riS'
ible to his at atl limes. He beheld the divine tove, aot merely
in its ejects and appearances, but in its cauic and nb«taiK«,
I906.]
The Prayeh of C/i/f/sr,
799
Phtlosophical religion had, at bes!, argued out some glim<
KDcr of Che truth, had expressed some svich r«lation3hip of
maker and made, but it had not directly fi/f the love, the
fatherhoods He felt the love, and framed in tbc love he be-
held the tuiXh. intuitivefy, face to face, without ftrgument.
Reason could only oppress mco and chill their hearts wUh the
thought of Ati inAnite unlikene&s between God and man that
made loving relation and intercourse unimaginable. The further
it removed men from idols and man-faced deities, the more
btherlesa h left them.
A9 reason could not raise God to heaven without taking
htm from e*nh, so neither ceuld the crude religion* of the
iiQaginaiLoiE keep hitn oi\ earth without draggmg him down
from heaven; the more he was for them a Father the less was
he a God. but he whose parity of heart enabled his vision
to pierce to the lowest depths and foundations of truth, saw
the Fatherhood rooted in the Godhead; saw that God was a
Father, just because he was God; that he was the nearest,
because he waa the furthest; the most merciful, btrcaiise ihe
mo&t Ju&t. No philosophy ol God's inlinitude and unlihf^ness
could equal the truth implied in Christ's reverence and mystic
awe; no lond likeness- making of the imagination could justify
or explain his boundless feeling of childlike love and confidence*
Reverence and love in him were fed by no inferences of the
miDd or pictures of the imagination, but were begotten by
direct spiritual contact with the divine; in him vision, feeling,
will blended together, independeni* without priority or suc-
cession. This was his spirit; and this was his revelation. The
truth that he revealed was hlmseir; and when he would be-
queath us his Truth, he bequeathed us his Spirit, his Liove.
vm.
"He thai haih seen me hath seen the Father." This surely
is true, directly, of Christ according to the spirit, not of Christ
aecording to ihe flesh. It is as a spirit that man Is made to
be the image of God, who is a spirit. Idolatry sought that
divine image in the psychic, natural man; Christ found it in
Ihe spiritual man, who is more'than^man. who is Ihe Son of
God. Man's spirit is the mirror in which, according to the
measure of hi purity^ God's face is rcllected. In One alone
8oo
The Prayer of Christ,
[Mac,
w«re the purity f,x\6 Ihe reflexion such that h« could »/
without limit: *'He thai hath seen mc hnth seen the Father/'
Hfre, a& throughout, ^kt speak or ChfUt'» moial and vpirituA]
rclacion to the Father; not cf the metaphysical relation o\
pcfsonal union, which is its my6tcriou6, inscEuiablc root. We
apeak of that TaaLtk&s, unbroken unity of will, whkh practic^lt^
merged all di&tinciton of agency and made his spirit life u
much & part of the divine HJe as Ihe life of any member U
pan of that of the whole body: ''The word which ye hear is
not mine, but the Father's who sent nae" (Johii xlv. 34)' "The
Sod can do nothing of himself, but wbiil he seetb the Father
doing; for what things soever he docth, these the Son al»o
doeth in like manner" (John v, 19). The fipirit feedf oB
truth; it becomes whit it ^es- Christ's visible life was purdy
an expressjon 0I his spirit-life; and this again purely an ex-
pression of the divine life- And thus that divine life was
made visible; "He that hath seen me, haih £eea the Father."
In this sense he has taught up that we have a right to Jook
f;>r the likeness of man in God, and for the likeness of God in
mao^ "Face my hinds fashioned, ae£ it in myBctf I " Thni
the blind hankerings of idolatry after a god within the reaeh
of man's mind were tenderly refined and superabundantly sat-
isfied by him who never yet broke the bruised reed of onr
mental infirmity, or quenched the smoking flax of our taint
desires.
As little as Christ's knowledge of the Father was an infer-
ence, tto little was his revelation of that knowledge a fofmulii
As he beheld the truth in his lovi?, ao he uttered it in his Hfe^
in the expression of hla love. His life was his doctrine. Re-
flecting on thai life, wc try to formulate the truth it implied
Accorciing to our modes of speech and ihopghti und thus the
Church shapes her theology from age to age, HSs life asd
spirit AEc the subject- matter uf this ictlection, the scpreroe
rule of faith. His lite is the revelation of the Father; of what
the Father is in relation to man; of the eternal humanity ol
God. In him we see God as a servant in the midst of hll
creatures, kneeling at their feet, ministering to their needs^
feeding them with his flesh and blood, bearing with their la-
firmities* of rajnd and body, forgiving their BJna, healing their
sickness; full of compassion for the muUitudrs; the friend oF
l^ubllcana and sinners, of simple folk and little ohildres, of th<
I
J906,]
The Prayer of Christ.
aoj
birds of the 4fr and the flowers of ihe fields the foe of scribes
«nd PliaiUees, of the unreal and pretrntiou^; tbe upholder of
irulh and justice and mercy; rejoicmg with those Ihat rejoice,
■s at Cana ; weeping with those that weep, a* by the tomb of
Lazarus; i good shepherd who Uyi <lown hU life for hit sheep,
yet whom dea.lh canriGl hold or conqucrr " He that ha.th seen
me. hath seen the Father/' yet " the Father is greater than I " ;
tor all that he has shown of the Father's humanity, And til
that his saintg, \n whocc hi^ spirit continues forever to develop
find unfold its inexhaustible riches^ c^n ever show us, 1b Infinitely
»hort of the truth.
IX
When complementary truths are set over against one another
by some apparent contrariety, owin^ to the limilatioD of our
outlook, we forget one as we emphasUc the other. We are
always defective either in our sense of God's nearnets or in
our sense of his distance; lor we only believen where ChrUt
fell, and, through feeling, saw. Our progress, il we arc not to
oscillate idly and un progressively from one side of the truth X^
the other, demands that in each case we should return to the
forgotten side enriched by a deeper realization of the other.
In Chriat'i he&rers the ^eatc of God*» diatance and othemesa
had been roore deeply cealtzed than hitherto. Their rnoro
preising need was to learn thai his greatnetf. far from dimim^h-
ing. was the measure cl his fatherliness; that "the All-Great
was the All-Loving too," This Gospel or Good News was for
the poor, the [owly, the empty, lest their humility should pass
Into hopelessuessn "Lift up your heads, for your rcdcroption
drawetb nigh" — such was its burden. If our Savior preached
the love, he also preached the greatness, in order to measure
vid enhance the love: " Vou call me Lord and Master- you
»ay well, for so I am. - , - 1, your Lord and Maatcr, wash
yotir feet," God, who on earth washed their feel, through him,
wat rjot only their Father, but their Father in Heaven,
Heaven for Christ's hearers meant God's dwell irig- place
above the Efky, from whence he viewed the world beneath and
(governed it through the mEnistry of ascending and descending
angell- Our own conceptions of the Beyond are not so ade*
qcate that we can alTord to set the^tc simpler and more con-
VOL. tJCXXEL— jt
Thk Prayer of Cur/st.
fidenl reprerenlations aside a« rdigiously valuckM, In ooe
point wc ratty CAsily underrate Ihem, ttitough our inability lo
dothe our»civ«3 in the garment of the past^ If our aetronoiny
hat) ill some way enlarged, it has s,Uo impovcTishcd. our notioo
of the hcavflos. It has given us quantitative mysteries in ex-
cbtngc iot quaJiUtive ~ It has made heaven homogencoug witb
earth' Tha one* ray«teHuue planets, and the sun itself, are but
materia) orb* like our own; and as the mind u^vrls codlcssly
into »pac< Lt oi«ets only with more orbs ftnd syttcmfi gf otb»
In their million*, u infloite Bsonotony of matter and moiionj
but sever doe* it itrike against ^ome boundary wall of the
univerte, beyond which God keeps an eternal Sabbath in a
new order of ektJttence, a ray^terioj^ world which eye ha& noi
•een, nor ear heard, nor htrurl conceived. The heaven that [ay
bvbfcod the blue curtain of the sky, whence night by night God
buns 04I h>> silver Utnph lo shine upon the earth, was a far
deeper ayvifaol of the eternal home than the cold, shclterteH
de«erti of aittonomicai space,
Kor tbe GalUe^n liehernien, heaven Gtood for di&ta^nce nn6
inkHK#ndenee. 'or a worJd other in kind than our own — how-
tVfl Imperfectly they may have grasped the estent of that
utharu***- The expression " Father in Heaven/' or '* Heavenly
fllheFi" reiniiKitd them i>( differences as well as of likeness, and
W«fn*d ihftm that they were on holy ground and in the region
Thli »nfte of God's otherness, unliketiess, infinttude is, both
bUlwi^tllly ftticl philosophically, cf tbe very essence of religion;
lh« iBOlkc of that reverence, awe, and worship, which is even
a MOte primary element than Icve. confidence, and sonship.
Mao pai»» from the religion of servitude ^nd fear to that od
lllMfiy 4nd the Gospel i yet be does not leave fear behind,
Imi M'fi^* il on with him, deepened and spirituotifed^ into a
MVfr*nc« that Ij pan of the very sub&lance of love.
Chfiit'i reverential love was that of one to whom earth
fM* permeated by heaven, as by an all-pervading ether inrisi'
U\t Mf J«M pure cyo than hts own. The trnfolding turtain of
tlH tky WAS fur him buc a symbol of the manner in which the
yUlM* »(t material is encompassed and penetrated by the
IjfllUiial. It was not from beyond the ouimo«t circumference
tfi fl^it^a Ihal bo S0Lij{ht the explanation and source of all tbal
#iiUit Mil llvss and moveii; hut i\\ the very cenue of ea>ch
I
I
I
i9oS.] The Prayer of Chr/st. 803
several cfealur<-< living in Us life, brfathitnj in its breitb, yet
tr^nsceading it intinitdy in kind and nature. For him earth
and heaven iwere conliruous, as Ibe light and heat o( the gun.
The vlaibk, of itscH meaningless, found its complement and
cxplanalion in the invhiblCj ad the pirt is explaJned when the
whole Is revealed^ For him> the whole tealm of ruthless law
and nece^ait/ was but an insTTument in the eraip oj liberty
and love which, without destroying ilB structure, could bend it
to their own designs. The world of matter was but a liiiLe
islet afloat on the boundless encompiitaing ocean of spirit, ris-
ing and falling on its bosom, borne hither and thither by its
currents, yet heM together within itseU by rigid relations of
necessity- With seetning indifference tb« sun might rise upon
the evil and the good, the rain descend upon the just atid the
unjust, the sparrows whom Nature bad nursed might fall to the
ground, the grass she had clothed with glory might wither
and fade, but behind all and over alJ were tbe love and care of
the Heavenly Father.
X,
Man's heart has always been too big for earth to liU, loo
hungry to be Ealislied with the tnere husks of reality, Rc-
preEied again and again by various sorib of maicrialiaro, the
mystic appetite as often reasserts itself, and will feed on any
gArbnge if wholesome lood be denied it. A world of blind
law and order, a world of blind chance and chaos, are alike
intolerable to a spiritual bein^, which necessarily »eek& its own
likenesij at the root of things, and will be satisfied with noth-
ing lest, while ready to accept inlimtcly more.
We must, then, recognixe a perverted truth and value in the
crude mysticism which dreams of a divtne power alongside of
and^ in some sense, co-ordinate wilh Nature, as a r»ier Is co-
ordinate with his subjects; a power which the powers of Na-
ture, in the main, obey according to prescribed laws, and
whose existence is only revealed when it breaks through this
order of Nature and cornea into collision with it. Mysticism
of this kind looks for God, not in order but in disordcTt In
storms and earth i.iuakoB and portents, in abnormal stales and
phenomena of the spiritual faculties, in seeming difitutbances
ol >fature'B rhythm that point to the intervention of a wiJ]
b
The P/iAVER OF C/fRIST^
above Nature. Vet tf> sceadi]>^ and persitlently does niatuf«r
knowledge t«nd it> reduce these seeming exccplions to some
higher rul«, thai to build our diviniiy selely on such founda-
tions H tn build il <iT\ The ^and, He \q (those spiritual gist
Nature wag transparent, h^i Uught u^ the Iruc tny^licitm; he
h» taught us to »ee God, not alongside of Nature, but to ace
Natufe \r\ the hnsom of God. and God through andioNaturej
to find him 4« revealed in the rule; lo ficelr for him as hid-
den In the excerption; lo brlifve in a unity which we cnnncit
yet fee; to hope in & love which we cannoi yet underhand.
There can be no eonfliet of faith and science when faith com-
passes eciencr a£ heaven compasses ed.rlh ; when cny^tcHe^ ire
sought not in the fiuLts and lacunas of science, but in the world
that permeates and enguiTs the visible order, in the darknew
from which it ccme^ and into which it vanbhes, a darknext
which faith alone cax\ enlighten.
XI.
Ltke a water-weed, whoae blossom alone floats on the sur-
face, man's being is, for ihe most part, merged in the spirit*
ual world and reaches up to the visible order only in virtue
of it* piychic and organic manUestations. Slight as may be
the seen indications of bU connection with the hidden, they
are there ucvcrlhelesa. To bring them to full consciousnes*,
to control his psychic life entirely by that consciousness, is the
work of religion. The spirit-life, as we have £atd, Is that in
whrch B man's interests have been so identified with the divine,
universal interests, that he becomes deud to himveif. lo his nar*
r^w, separate, psychic self, and feels that God has taken pos-
session of him, that he is merely an instrument o( the divine
will: ^' I live, yet not \. but ChrUt liveth In me." It means
a disinterested devotion to truth in every torm — truth of life,
truth of feeling, truth of vision. In virtue of this spirit-life
man belongs (actually, to aome degree; potcntlslly, to an in-
finite degree) to heaven rather than to earth. He is a son of
the Heavenly Father, the "Father of Spirits"; heaven is hl»
home, his natural environment \ it is the communion of all wills,
so fat as they are idcnlitied with the divine, and through the
divine, with one another; it is the Invisible Church, the Com*
munion of Saints,
1906J
The PRaysr of c/f/t/sr.
*oi
It Is bcU. and not *arth, that is described in the Gospel a*
Mparated from heaven by an impa^aible gulf^ A vjcw cf
heaven that would ao cut It oIT from* earth, would turn earth
into hell : " Where thou art," ays A Kempt?) '* there is heaven t
and where thou art not, there h hell." As the spiritual order
enwraps and perinrates the phy&ical afid makcawjth it one iji*
telllgiMe unity, so the spiritual and psychic in man are not, by
right, antagonistic or mutually exclusive, but bolong to the
■ante whole. What God hath juincd together, Eel no man ^ut
asunder In thLa truth we stand firm against all false aiectJ*
cism as against aJi UUe mysticiam^ The height of heaven above
earth 15 not local hut ijualiiative; a distance of kind, not of
space; a distance that no more stands in the way of uniry «nd
ncarnesa, than the distance thai separates the »piric from the
body which it tEifoims, anil which it cauld not possibly infoim
wete it like in kind.
XIL
Christ has "given us power to become the Boa» of God."
This gift or gface supposes A cert^iin receptivity in us which
belongs to us Ai spiritual beings, A merely psychic being couTd
not so much as desire or receive the gift. It is diBcult and
idle to specutate what man would be wjthouc grace; without
that perpetual "giving" on God'^ aide, apart from which our
ipirit-life would remain purely dormant. It is of God's gift
that the last and lea&t of us from time to time rises above the
psychic self and elicits some disinterested act of goodness. It
la of hii gift thnt we desire to multiply such nets, and lo lus-
tain ourselves continuouEly on the Epinlual UveL It is of his
gift that we weary of the psychic self-seeking life; that we
cr/ out against our limitations; that we aak and seek and
knock: "Thou would&t not have sought me, if thou had»t not
already found nte/' All Eliat the merely psychic man can do
of himidf is to work out his own misery; to learn by some
wider e^cperience the hollowness of the highest attaioEitent of
the lower non-spiritual life, So far and nofutthercan he " pie-
pare himsetf for grace." unawares— wanderrrg, at it were, inio
ft far country with his face turned from home- To rraliie that
he is not enough for himself, that he needs another, the other
must firat present himself to him in his ^oneIines.«; must run to
So6 The Prayer of Christ. [Mw,
meet him. Unlike the monologue of the ethical lifCt the spEnt-
life U essentially a converse, a communication, a passiDg oot
of self into God ; it is an affair between two; a mutual giving
and receiving. Without grace it 1$ unthinkable. The initiative
must be from God ; as it is with all life. It \% he who " teachu
us to pray," who gives us the desire to pray; to arise and go
to our Father. It is by prayer that we strain forward to meet
him ; that we open our arms to receive the kiss of peace ; that
we stretch out our hands for the ring and the robe. It is by
the "raising of the heart and mind to God," by the spirituat-
izing of our affections and thoughts, that through grace we
make ourselves sons of God.
This divine life is not something that we draw forth from
ourselves, but rather something that we appropriate. To be a
spirit is simply to have the power of appropriating it when it
is offered to us. We might say this in some measure of the
civilization into which we are born; of that organized system
of beliefs* traditions^ customs, and institutions which society
has slowly built up. This, too, is a ready-made life which the
individual may appropriate and enter into. If he would stand
alone he must remain on the brute level, a savage at best
Still more, the divine life — God's mind, God's tove, God's will
—is something which the spirit lays hold of and appropTiatcE
in various measures; which it cannot educe from itself; and
for which it is as dependent on God as the babe is on its
mother.
Being himself in the fullest possession of this spirit- life, and
imparting it to us, Christ has given us power to become the
sons of God. He is himself the bread of that life; and in the
measure that we feed on him, we become what he is.
A NIGHT IN A TENEMENT.
Tboae destined thDuglit^ that haunt my breast
And (hcob and brsve and swell,
luipniiQnt of thtJi paiafut r&st.
Aud stale iuvlsibk,
Tho^e thoughts a1 last muat meet tbe day,
And wilb me dwell, or on me piey ;
On mt, on me tho^ Ibougbtii mii^t call
And act and live and nmvc abroad ;
I am ihe mother of them all ;
Be tUou Ihwr Failicr, God I
Thus prayed I ; Tnnsing on that Taw
By which ihe childfen of the hrain
Their linked geiiernlions diaw
(A melancholy train)
From moods loug past which feigned to div*
But in whcfle fjuickeniiig ashes lie
Jmmonal seed a of pnin or pleasure,
No tool can crush, no will coulrol.
No crall transmute, no prescience measurVi
Dread harvests of tbe ripeniug soiUI
—Aubrey dt Vert.
T was a dinyy tenement thai faced a dingy street.
Tbe street itself Looked evil, nor were its inhabi-
tants much better. 1i was one of those squaTid
quartern thiic (gather and feater in the folds of
great cities. Like a canker, it was eating into
tbe bcarl of a Btrickeii people. In a va^ne way the authorities
knew of the evil, in testimony of which the British Parliament
held occaiionnl debates for the amelioration of the Briliih
ma(Se», But the Hrilifh I'arliampnt had to many forei^ poticiea
8o8 A NIGHT IN A TENEMENT. [Mar,.
to frame, and so many distant inCcresta to consider, that home af-
fatrs shrank Jnto insignificance. So the people of the slums con-
tinued to live without amelioration, or they died like dumb beasts
without a murmur. They were not psychological The issues
of life and death were nothing to them- They came in, and they
went out, with the rising and the setting of the sun. Few knew
why they were born, and very few cared. The present time was
theirs, and to the majority it was enough.
Here and there, along the street pavement, a Sight of steps
led up to a house of prayer. But the steps were usually un-
worn; for the man in the street is the product of his age — and
the age is sceptical. He knows that his feet are of clay; and
as for his soul, he is doubtful if he has one. And yet — the
words of the Psalmist are positive: "1 have said you are gods,
and all of you the sons of the Most High."
But to those who know what life is in Christian cities— to
those who have Lent an ear to the voices of mean streets — the
scepticism of the unbeliever becomes not so much a matter of
surprise as a subject of pity.
Should any one doubt the truth of this, I would urge faim
to spend a night in a slum tenement. Humanly speaking, it is
not a pleasing experience. Nay; I know of none more pain-
ful. 8ut, in order to obtain a sympathetic grasp of modem
problems, the student of sociology must be prepared to make
certain sacrifices. For, as F. W. Robertson says: '^ If you
^pire to be a son of consolation, if you would partake of the
priestly gift of sympathy, if you would pour something more
than commonplace consolation into a tempted heart, if you
would p^ss through the intercourse of daily life with the deli-
cate tact which never inflicts pain, . . . you must be con-
tertt to pay the price of a costly education."
Not once or twice have I chanced to pass a night in the
neighborhood of which I now write. It is a quarter that is
1 airly well known to mc. And if 1 say further, that the nights
thus passed were not undertaken with a view to copy, it
may be judged that these glimpses of slum life produced an
impression on lay mind which time is not likely to erase.
This tei;ement, then, stood next a public house, and, inas-
much as the district was prolific in public houses, it may be
considered a common illustration of life in a low quarter. In
one corner of the tenement room lay a sick woman, whose
i9o6.]
A XiGJfT //v A Tenement.
8og
husband would not return til! daybreak- He was out watching
Ihe roads, »o I aat by the bt^daidc and waited. The woman'*
breath came litfuUy, and from time to time her fingers twitched.
She was unconscious; and as I watched her 1 wondered which
would come first— death or the dawn.
A small fire burned in the grate, and through the window
came a gleftm of tight from a neighboring Ump-po^L There
was a wire netting outirde rhe witidow. to ward off the stones
ihat were habitually aimed at window pane^, according to the
qetabliahed custom of the quarter.
To-night no one threw any stones, and in the tenement
room an eerie silence reigned. I cannot say why* but the un-
wonted stillness gave me a curious Impression of unreality. I
felt somehow as if 1 might have been a disembodied spirit
lUtening at the gales of earth.
Not that I was particularly interested tn what wafi passing
outside the tenement room; nor, to be frank, did I wish to
hear- But sometimes I became conscious of certain impressions
that stood out quite clearly in the darknc&£, as the waves of
human sound ebbed and l^owed throughout the night,
l! was early yet. But through the tenement wall I could
hear the awing and the counter-swing of a door. It was the
public houAC duori ^nd every other swing meant a client. The
ctienis were of both sexes. 1 could hear the sound of their
voices. I could not distinguish the woids — only the voices.
Occasionally some one spoke in a Jouder or shriller lonej then
I could hear whut they lald.
There was a weekly sing-song to-nlghi, In ibe satoon bar
Veveial voices called for drinks- After that there wa£ a scratch-
ing of matches, as the men lighted u|*. Presently (he mu^ii:ian
^i the evening sat down, and the piano stool creaked as a
preliminary. The prelude was florid, ending in shaket and ar-
peggios. A pause endued. Some one was a^ked to sing. £
beard the click of a pipe as the man laid it on the table. Then,
in the accent of the quarter, he lifted up his voice in a comic
aoug> The first verse finished, the saloon bar responded in ■
nasal chorus. Verse after verse followed, each more draun ont
than the la»t; until finally the choru* was merged In appfauK,
Pipes and gUsse^ were evidently refilled; the men talked.
L Here my thocghti drilted into more congenial channel*,
Night is a tenement.
«nd I ivaj civ\f recalled lo my surroundtnga by |h« sound ef
waRian'i voices outside the window. They were standing under
thfl >tr«et lamp, with their shA«Is drawn around thetn. Thctr
f«ce« were turned awfty. but the voices reached me over the
area rallinK*^ They >poke in half 1nn«&. and ttiey seemed
woiry. Il wa> of \\tk and ol sorrow that they spoke, One of
Ihcm wu tobbLOf, while the other tried to 4ootb«,
Then the voice* i^ot fubbed otii in the night, and the fooc-
M«p> died away^ I was foltowii>g those women in thought
down (ba >iqaatid *id« *trcccs, when the sound of renew<ed
r«v«lry broke in upon me> The saloon bar was becoming ex-
hlUtatvd. "Why can't every man have three wive??" caiae
the terrain. GUtse« were banged on the table to mark the
ibytkvn, aftd a slow voice from a lar corner came in half a
b^r Ute.
The spirit of the revellers was in no way dissimilar to the
iytrtl ol lh« quarter- But it struck me as lacking in modern-
^^L Hy^ It «i»K^pftrd an older and a pagan spirit, a5 when the
^V Fwitiu p->ot rallied his adherenis to his banner and sang to
[ ibMi the aoDg of earth:
Arise t the sunlight in the tent \% creeping,
The drowsy aoon will fall to death's sure reaping:
Attune thy harp and 611 a hrimoiing meaficirp —
Not one will e'er return, of all the sleeping.
Tbis w» the tong of ancient agno^tlcbm^ But it vs a soni
whitih ll fstt becorain)^ the principle of the Christian masses of
|n>d«yH The plea lor materialism Is threaded in and out of
Us "Rdbslyat." yet who shall say that the theory of 6naKly
ttllkfled the tent-maker whose doubt peep* out in nsaay •
f|£ii(ng line. Thua he tay*:
Ah m&ke the mtwl of what we yet may «pend,
llofore we loo into the dusE descend;
Uuit [nCo dull, aud under dust we tie,
Sam wjne, hdv song, sans singer, and — »ns cod.
F Tile pilt^llc house door now swung open and a man lurch)
I atil. Mil gait wai unsteady. 1 could he^ the uneven sound
I906.]
A NTGHT m A TENEAfENT.
Si I
of his feet. He wa3 tnuttcring thickly as he propped himself
up against Che area railmga, AwhiJe he groaned, then slopped.
He wa^ trying io recall the words of the song. It seemed on
elTort, for h« felt tacti iron rail slupidly, as if for an inspira-
tion; but words and tune evaded him, He was losing hl«
temper when a woman emerged from the darknesSH She threw
back her shawl and hiirted reproaches at htm- Then it seemed
AS if the air became obscured with cursrs.
The sick womin moved restJeaaly, otherwise the tenexaeot
roi^ra was stilL
In the saloon bar (he publican was relating the joke or the
evening; roars of laughter came (htough the dividing wall.
OutEJdf! the window, and in the middle of the public street,
a man and woman exchanged blows. Both had been drinking
freely. At the pr<>9pccl of a fight, all the windows of the
fieighboring tenements were thrown open, and dishevelled head*
Appeared- Leaning out ol a top window was a stout man with
his shirt sleeve* rolled up. His face beamed with the enjoy-
ment of the scene- He might have been some old-time pa|^n
watching the Irav. thumb down, ** Chortling " in evil nnrth, his
steniorUn voice rang out:
"Pay im Susan T let 'ira 'ave ill"
The encouTngement was addressed lo his own wife- Thus
adjured she struck out from the shoulder, and her fist came
against her antagonist's head. A burst of appreciation came
from the lop window. But the crowd now intervened and the
combatants were separated.
Hme was wearing on. The men In the bar emptied cheir
j^Usses and had them refilled, The musician turned round on
his »tool for a final effort- With a harih, strong touch he
ttruck a few chords, and with one voice they «anf the latest
music hall ditty-
*"EftrT 'car!" ejaculated a stecpy enthusiasl-
"'Ave It again," suggested a coarcc voice in a far corner
Again they sang it, some <t( them standing up tc roar th«
choruS- Glas^e? rattled; irresponsible fists thumped the table.
There was a noisy shutfllng of feet a) the men passed out.
Then the swing door closed for the night-
It waa now Sunday, A church clock hid its face in the
darkness and struclc the hour. Twelve o'clock! Ench stroke
r^ng; out u \l In condemnation of &n crnng world. And aa 1
ut U) Che tenement room and counted the strokes, it eeemtd
CO mc at if the avenging angel were holding up the scaler,
plted hi(-h with humin critnc. And then incthought another
angel c^me. with pity In his eyes* who when he had marked
how the scales fell » raised a pitcbcr^and the pitcher waa filled
with tear*. Then one by one. like so many precious stonct,
he poufcd them Into the opposite ec^le — and, lo 1 the sor/ow
OutareigheJ the sin. Twelve o'clock! A new leaf was turnEd
in the Book of Llie; 4i new day was begun.
After a while, the sound of chUdren's voices came ihroogb
the window. They were playing on the steps. Then two peo>
pU approached and claimed the atepa for themselves.
"Go home," they said, with a curse. But the home of th«
Httle ones was opposite — al the top window- So they crept
down a side street instead.
Next door the potman seemed to be tidylnf up the bar*
I could hear the swifh of the broom a& he swept up the biU
and set the chairs straight- Then his broom lingered— the
publican and he began to dispute. High words Altered through
th« tenement wall, after which the publican made his way up-
stairs. Each stair creaked under him. The publican had
drunk deep-
A few minutes later the sounds died away, and for the fir^t
time that night there was silence.
Hall an hour passed, during which the breathing of (he
lick woman was the only thing to be heard. Then through
the wall came the sound of moaning- The publican tossed la
his bed. He was obviously querulous, but his wife answered
nothing. 1 couCd hear him upbraidmg her. Still she was silent'
Then it seemed as if her negative attitude became insuppoit-
able^iomething heavy was flung on the floor.
An hour passed. A vagrant cat now stoic along the leadl
and mewed forlornly. It mewed again- It went en mewing.
By and by another came ; then more- They increased and mul*
tiphed> Presently the mowing ceased and the feline assembly
opened its mouth wide arid howled. They hisseit and spat.
A lurry scuj^e f^nstied- This was interrupted by a tenement
window being opened, whereupon somebody thicw straight.
Thete was a diminuendo o^ sound, and the ca^a vanished.
1906]
A Night /a' a 7ES£M£iiT.
8t3
The night seemed very long. The clock had not struck for
a long lime. I was beginning to wonrfef if time hfld gone to
■lc«p. for the world appcafcd to be dead.
Then I heard a vttw sound, a sound that sceined to cleave
the sUence, rul^hn^ the air with xi& £|iikh^ friglilene<l feel- Tt
reminded me ol the fluttering ot a bird, whow wings were bcnt<
ing with a tEckcning fear, of a feeble, wounded bird who knows
thai \\.s capture is but a malter of moiocnt^. But (hit wAA lh«
6ighto( ft woman — hurried and fearful. I could hear her quick
breath a& »hv trie*! lo outdistance her pureuer. Now he wu
on hpr heels. The)* were under the window. A blow waft
Struck and a body foU, And as it felJ I heard a voice break
upon the night- U was only a fftint cry^ but it wu an ugly
wbiGpcr. Immediately, at if by magic, the whimpered accusa-
tion ran through the tenemenis, calJing oui its denizens, wher«*
upon a stream of ragged humanity filed out- From all direc-
tions ihcy came, springing up from ihe side «trect»; and on
every lip was the cry of murder. Then, amid the general ex-
dtetnentj the voices were merged into a confused undeitone of
sound.
Instinctively I had risen; and from where I stood in the
shadow t could see what passed outside. The street wat blocked;
It wat a moving »ea of heads- Here and there a pohceman's
lantern llashed in and out among rhe crowd, and presently a
dark mass was lifted up and carried away-
Thcre was no paU for covering, only a woman's rags.
Neither were Iheie any Icar^^ — just horror-*trained faces. It
was a scene for a painter's brush; as striking as it was Lurid.
l\ was a glimpse of life such as Aubrey de Vere must have
seen in vision when he penned those lines ihal throb with deep*
est pUy:
Touch thou Ihe gates of aout and senae;
Touch darkening eyes and dying ears;
Touch stifTcning hands and feet, and thcnco
Remove the trace of sins and tearfi.
And then, with a cry for heaven's forgiveness, he strikes the
E>f iha Christian's hope, gathering into a single stanaa
itrong spirit of faith, of which his own soul is liiJed.
■
Bu
J* ^t/c/ir M' A Tenement,
lUwt.,
Listen to the pleading which be 6ing» out in challenge to
TniEcriaLtAtic world :
Tbifi night th' Absolvcr issues fonh;
TtiLs night the External Victim bltfc<Is:
O wind «nd woods \ O heaven and earth
Be siill thi» night- The rile proc«cdb.
A hnah lay upon the crowd. Even the deniscnt of the quarter
were not proof agairiEt it. It wjis the eudden iran>ilion from
life to death, from the visible to the inviaible, ih^tt ftayed ibeir
speech They loitered awhile in silent, shellenn|{ givupiv Then,
with noiseless fcetn they melted away into the night. But be-
fore they iii«ppr^ed I saw an upturned face^ It wa« the face of
B woman. Un it were pencilled the Imes of want and priva-
tion, but in that face there was a toolt of horror aingled with
entreaty^ And as the light foil upon her, I saw hei cross her-
self» while her lips mo^^ed Wnat petition she uLtemd 1 know
not Qr whether she prayed ior the living or the dead. But it
aeenicd to me as if the Bt ProfUHdii surely 5tted thetima ai;d
pfacc. For, inJoed, it wai out of the dupths that her prayer
went forth, whether it were for the ItvmR or the dead. It vas
the fact that counted; the fact that, amid a sea ol unbelief,
she held fa^t to her faith. For* like a rainbow that lights up
a sullen ^ky, the prayer of the woman seemed to proclaim tha
promi0e» to a forgetful' world.
All was silent again. I made up the fire afresh, and won-
di?red when the night would end, The sich woman had almost
cea.sed bfeathing. Her Angers no longer twitched. She lay
stiJ] and motioniesa. For an hour ahe remained thus. Then
the crisis passed and the woman slepL
So I sat and dreamed by the fire; and In my dream \
visited the spots 1 loved best. And little by little England
became blotted out and memory lent its wings, and togetbff
we paased over sea and plain, and through the snow-clad
Alps. And down through the sun-kis^ed vineyards ve w«ot,
and on through the s^d olive groveti, until the sail la^oona
lay out before us> Beneath the ahadow of the flight of steps
a gondola lay in readiness, and stepping in we drifted through
the quaint Venetian streets. It was all so still. There vas no
I
I9afi0 A N/CIiT m A TEN£AtKNT, 815
sound but the long »wi»h of the single oar as ibe bosTman
handled it lovingly. I could fe«I the prow of the gondola
cleave the water as the wavc& rippled pa.Et. Then a voi^ rose
up from the stern — a rich Southern voice, that sang the sweet
songt of Vecice. I could hear the notes of the gondolier
Hooding the night. The cchoea seemed to float out acfoas the
ffloe of the waters and, with dreamy, outstretched arms, ihey feli
««leep in the moonlight- The church donic^ glistened agiind
the a^ure sky. The porticoes were wrapped in gloom; while
across the steps lay & broad band of Jighl. And al) the time
came the lip, ]Hp of the wave^ as they pEaycd against the
white marble. Presently ihe boatmen gave ihefr lingering cry
of warning and the gocdoU shot round a sharp corner. The
tide canal was the home of shadow*. It looked dark and sad,
save for a flickering gleam above, where a lamp burned before
A wayside shnne of the Mother and Child. Then said 1:
" 'Twas all a dream — the wrong, the strife,
The scorn, the blow, the loss, the pain f
Irmnortal gladness love and life,
Alone are lords by right and reign ;
The earth ie tos&ed about, ar: though
Young angeis tossed a cowslip ball;
But rough or level, high or low»
What matter? God is di in all."
Ah I Dot 10; not BO, at least, in city slutns.
Two cockney voices broke in upon my reverie. And at the
sound the picture of faith vanished. Gone was the way&ide
fhrine, and the church cupolas melted away. Instead of being
jn the streets ol Venice, I found mysell in a 61lhy room in a
London slum. On the tenement stepSn not five yards distant,
sat a couple who spoke words ot love. Their »pecch was un-
savory and unwelcome, but there was no escape from the voices
of the two. And when they rose and went their way, 1 thought
that the sound of their feet seemed to desecrate (he night.
[n the sick room the woman slept quietly, while the first
streak of dawn appeared in the sky. My vigil was Hearing its
end. At any moment now the woman's husband would return,
J was gUd to think that a fresh day had begun, because many
L
8l6 A NIGHT IN A TENEMENT. [Mar,
things had be«n brought home to me that night. Amid such
surroundings sin appeared less evJI, and it seemed to me iittk
wonder Chat crime was rife in the quarter.
And, thinking thus, my heart went out (n pity to those
vast numbers of toilers whose lives are cast in such arid places;
to the denizens of mean streets; and to the dwellers in slum
tenements, where the decalogue becomes a mockery.
But even as I pondered these things, there was a loud crash
in the basement below. Then I heard a woman scream. This
was followed by a volley of curses from a man. Furniture
was being hurled across the room, I could hear it strike
against the wall to the accompaniment of shuffiing feet. There
were cries of protest — cries which were stopped up with blows.
A low moaning ensued. And just as the domestic brawl was
at its height^ a key turned in the tenement door and the sick
worn an *s husband came in.
"Listen," I said, while something went crashing against
the basement wall. "What if he murders her?"
"Wot ev 'e do?" answered the man. "Tain't the fust"
He pointed to some dark splashes on the wall of the tene-^
ment room,
"Rooms is cheap wheer them marks is," he said. And
taking his pipe from his pocket he roLled some tobacco in the
palm of his hand.
The Uct that for th* first tim* In
many months littk is said about
Russia ntay, perhaps, be taken ae
Indicaling that the slate ol things has somewtiat improved.
This is undoubtedly the case; but \x would be premature to
conclude tha^t what has been accomplished bo far e» of any
grcdt val40, Mas^crcs and nets and fighting m the cifeels
have not been renewed, but few ((f any) of the concessions
made by the Manifesto of October 30 have been realized.
Wholesale executions continue in the Baltic FrovmceK. A
baron and a count have been murdered in the »ame provinceVi
The chief of scat! of the Viceroy of the Caucasus has been
kilted with a bomb. Two hundred revolulionials have been
condetnned to exile in EaMem Slberis. A botnb was thrown
%t one of the Provincial Govecnors. A woman i^red six shotfl
■t a Chief of Police and wounded three men, Fifty Jew£ who
were distributing polttical proclamations were arrcMed- These
are specimens of the events taking place daily in various partt
of the Empire, They dearly show that little progress has b«n
made towards the reign oi law and order. In fact the reprea*
five measures taken by Count Witte have been as severe as
ihose taken by M- Tlehve. Some of the Cos^acki even hare
been disgusted. The Second Urup Regiment at EkaterinoJar
published an addreis to the people, in which the men, while
declaring their fidelty to the Tsar, said that It was Icnpoaalbk
for thecn to continue to serve as instruments of reprettfiion after
the Manifesto of October 30, and announced that they were
rctumlng to their homes. Count Witt« Juatlfieabis methods by
the necessity which exists for muntaioing order, and holds
forth the hope that, when everything is quiet, the reforiDs
promised will be ciTccled. Order doubiErss is good and indeed
neceaury, but some methods of maintaining it fender chaos
almost fireferable-
The action and purposes of the Tsar himself seem doubt-
fnl. It appears to be clear that he is determined 10 wiihsiand
all the malignant influences by which he is surrounded, and
VOU LXX3CI],»5S
^
8iS
CURREi^T Events.
(Mflr,
I
faithfully to maintain the gnints nhkh he has madr. But when
the qucaiion arise} as lo what these grants mean to hiiD, aad
on what basis they rest, the an&wer la noi so ^aiisfaclory.
Tr> a dcputattan of the *' league of Rcisdan Men," consialing
of supporters of the autocracy, he declared thRt he aJofle should
conlinue I0 bear the burden of power conferred upon him in
the Kremlin, and it was (o God alone that he would render
an account of it. The people were merely lo be ht9 helpers.
On the other hand, according to a subsequent aad authoritative
slalementi amendments have bttn made in ihc organic laws, ici
order to bring ttiem into conformity with the Manifesto of
October 30h These amendment abolish the unlimUed powef of
the Sovereign, and provide that in the future legislativ* power
will no longer be hi^ alone, but wUI be vested conjoinfly In biai,
in the Duma. oMd in the Council of the Empire. The Tsar will
Still be called autocrat and will hare the power to issue okasea;
but if any uka^c should be judged by the Seii&te to be eon-
trary to the new organic law, that body wiU have the power
to annul tl. Whtle refusing to take an oath to observe the
ooti^EiCulLon, he promises that it shalJ be respected by his »uc-
ceMora. Perpetuity to the Duma la assured oy the prcvi»ion
that in the event of a disaolutLon a new Duuta must reasiembla
within six months. This sounds well; but a stream canoot rise
higher than ila source. A3 all these rights depend lor iheir
validity and stability on the autocratic will which, while it hat
so often declared itself to be irresistible, yet is ever being
Bucecrsfully resisted, that perfect confidence so necrssary for thv
well-being of the commonwealth is lacking.
The new King oi Denmark, Frederick Vdl-, in th« procla-
inatLon announcing his accession to the throne* aaid : "If the
people themselves will have the confidence in their King which
we have in our people, then will God give his grace and blesj<
ing to ali of us." The people of Denmark have, however, a
Constitution which their King has sworn to respect, logethct
with their other rights and privileges. The people of Russia
have hitherto had nothing of the kind. Hence suspicion and
distrust hold uncontrolled sway^ The Tsar dors not trust the
people; the people trust neither the Taar nor one anocbcr.
Panics, or rather factions, are being muUiplied. Instead of
presenting a united front, there is imminent danger of ever-
Increasing disuntonn Some even wish to boycott the ihma u
I9OI50
CunaSNT M^EJfTS.
fll9
A mockery and a f^rce. In ihe number o( th«fiti are Included thfi
members of the Congress of ihc Union of Unions, lo whose
action the Manifesto is tni\tily due. The same courie ha« been
decided upon hy the Congress of the Russian Peasant*' Union,
held in Finland, as also hy Congresses of the Social Revolu-
tionary and Social Democratic parties, and of other bodies too
numerous to mention. The Constitutional Democratic Congrcfs,
on the oEtier hand, has decided to take part in the elections.
The members of this Congress arc the represcntaHves ot Ihc
classes which constitute the Zrivfj/if^ and form the tnost weighty
bidy of poUlical opinion in the country. We hope ihey will
have the support of the greater number. For nothing but the
Duma stands m the way of the absolutist reaction or of anar-
chy^ and through it fies the road Co a well-ordered state re-
moved from the tyranny of an autocrat on the one hand and
cf the revolution on the other. This ie so clear that the finan-
ciers of France have refused, before the Russian Constitution
becomes a reality, to grant the large loan of which RuB^ia stands
in need. Atnong the conditions which must be fulfilled are
Enctuded the assembly of the Duma; a clear understanding
that it IB not to be a Turkish Parliament » but one really repre-
senting the nation and exercising an ilTectivc contrcl over the
finances of the Brapirc, and that it shall formally recognise the
foreign debts of the nation- In our days nations* like armies,
go on their bellies, [t is not» indeed, a very lofiy ideal; but
if these lower necessities can be made to serve a good end, we
may well be content, and have a stronger hope that April fio
which month the meeting of the Dnmn has been adjourned) may
aee the definite inauguration of a reasonably constituted Scale,
r We do not often find ourselves,
Germany. unfortunately, in agreement with
^ the policy and aims of the German
Emperor, and it becomes, on this account, all the more a duty
to record all the utterances of his Majesty which are worthy
of praise. In a letter recently written to the Archbtshop of
I Posen, the Kaiser expresses to the Archbishop the satiiifaction
which he feels at the efforts made to confirm the Christian faith
in the rising genrratiou and at the proper inculcation of their
duties to the highest authorities in Church and State, He goes
I ciu;iei
%30
CUIt^F.^T EVEXTS,
[Mau
<ia to promUo ll>c ftuppori of bis government in counlcTBcttng
the idea t>{ revolution by propagating ibe principles of ih«
CfarittiAn falth^ utd in deepenin£ iheir foundations in the
he«rti of the youn^. But when the Emperor proceeds to offer to
Ihe Ati;hbi*hop vhal appear to be direction* for ihc ruling of
Ihc ctefgjr ^c patfCA licyond the limits witbin which his influence
\M tiie'uU
Kor their Rmpcror the Germ&os themtelvcA (or, at all cvefilj,
l&tfl* natnberi of tlirm) htve the highcbt djtceni. At (hi! annuAl
b4it<iuft bold in celebration of the K«i>er's birthday, the Pre^i^
dent of the Reich»ca|f, Count BAlle^trem, made a speech ivhieh
IIDI only yave eKprenaion to the reasons for their eEterm, but
4U0 Jodicated why it i» bard lor tho«e who are' cot GcrmAfts
1«k ^nlartaiu ptG<i>ely the same sentiments. Count UaUcitrcni
««4(| L '* XVe have a splendid Emperor whom the other navioai
tnvy rtti allliou^h they may often dii^play in a maliciotia minner
Ihiir v«Halion at not poaKesAing a monarch like him- We will
lU|}|iOrt Ihe £mpcror'» policy, and wc will be his twin^brothcr,
Anil for hi* Mkc , . , we will do what i% required m order
Iti maintain llie power of Germany."
In the former part of h\i speech the Count had de^nrd the
pahcy of Germany a£ being the preservation oJ peace, not only
\i\ Kuropc, but also throughout the world. But ho» ia peace
to b« preierved? Listen to the Count's description of the
suitable methods: *' To preserve pe^cc , . . a nation mu^t
Lb alrong- A nation roust be 3o armed and so c^^uipped that
\\ can strike down aU who would wantonly disturb the peace
and compel them to keep it. And the olhcr PoMvers will keep
ihe poacc ; no need wilt arise to strike them down, if only ibcy
know that they will, if it is neceaaary^ be struck, and struck too
wilh elTective weapons — the first army in the world and a J1«^
which \% growing stronger and stronger,"
Can It bo wondered at that the other natioas, who are to
bt "struck down" If Germany ia not satisfied with them,
tliould feci somewhat dissatisfied and not have perfect confi*
dance in the ruler who has led his country 10 take up such la
Altitude? That thi» policy and thoae methods are now ca-
tended to the whole world \s due to the Emperur's own ioitia*
jjvc- Prince BUmarck was content wEth malclng of Germany a
European land Tower, and his policy was limited to the pre-
servation of that power* It was left for the present Emperar
I
FormBlIy to e^ctcnd th? sphere oi Gerinan activity, and to enter
upon that " New Course " which h^5 been the causc of much
friction in the pa^t and which H the most immiDEnt danger of
the future — that course which filled Pfinc« Biimarirk with fe»r
" Ic5t the future of Germany should be sacrificed to the small
4iDd temporary feelings of the present " and the opposition 1o
which led to the dismissal of ihe Prince^ It U for this among
other reasons that it is not maUcious envy which i£ felt by
other nations towardj^ Germany, as Count Ballestrcm would have
Ji, but rather justifiable anxiety. After the Coufereoce on the
affairs of Morocco* which h being held at Algcciras. the question
of ihe Franchise has esclicd the greatest interest- While for the
Raichstag oJ the Ktnpire the elections are by universal secret
and direct suflrage, a method which aaiUfies the majority of
the population* for the various State* which make up the Em-
pire» there arc what Prince Ludwig of 3avada called, in a
speech delivered before the Upper Chamber of the Bavarian
Diet, fancy systems which ate in conflict with the popuUr
sen^e of j j^tjce, Tn Frussta, Cof exantpEe. (he elecIoTal law
for the Pfussiao Diet practically disfranchises 1^750,000 per-
sons who are entitled to vote for the Imperial Parliament*
It is impossible that two such divergent and opposite systems
should continue to exist aide by side without causing grave
discontent- Many meetings have accordingly be«n held in
Hamburg, Leiptii;, Dresden, and various other cities. In Ber-
lin and Its neighborhood no less than ninety-rhrec meetings
were hdd on a single day, And although troops were collected
and held in readiness, (heir services were DOt re^Jjuired, foi the
people were a$ orderly as well- conducted S u n day - School p\i>
pib- In Uc(, the orderliness of the crowds was the most re-
ttarkablf; feature of ihe demonsfraiioti. The people arc be-
comin^r too sensible to act In such ft way as 10 furnish any
excuie for being made targets by the miUtary. As to what
the praciicAl result will be, opinion is divided. Statements
have been made that the Pruaaian government had intended
10 Introduce a Bill for the partial revision of the elecloral sys-
tern, but had changed its mind on account of the agitation.
The opponents of any extension of the frarchisr have been
damoring for the enactment of new laws in order 10 T«prei>
Ihe movement. This Prince BiJlow opposed as unnecessary,
the exisdng laws/' relentlessly applied," being sufficient 10 de-
822
CUMKE^'T Events.
[Mar.
liver lK« countrj-froiii what he called the tyraony of thc«trcc£».
Wh4t WAJt most ncccasaiy* in hi^ opinion* vtoA that ill parlies
abould bQ united in th« face ol the common enemy.
b
By th« death of ChfislUn IX.,
DeDmark. King of Denmark, Europe has ion
one who has beer; called !u "fa-
ther-in-law." Hb second son is ihc King of Greece, his youcg-
CEt was offered the throne of Uulg^tU; of hiK grandsons, on«
u the Kmpefoc of Ru&sia and another the King of Noiwayi
one of hia daughters ts the Queen of EngUndH another the
Dowager- Empress of RuseiSi and a third ee the wife of ihe Diik<
oE Cumberland, AOn of Ihe la&t King of Hanover. King Chnstun
was a ftsolule defender of his royal rights, under the Consti-
tution granted in rS66, but waf a democrat in everything ex-
cept politico. Althougli he cAitie into canl^iec for along period
with the demands of the House which repiesented the majoriiy
of the people^ yet he eondueted the contest in cueh a way ■>
to entitle him to the respect of those to whom he wa* op-
posed; and he died loved and venerated hy the whole nation.
He is succeeded by his son, Frederick VIII,, who ascend*
c throne at the matufe age ot slxty^ihree. In the djflkull
;s thai are po^aibly approach ijig, the deatinita of th* realm
are therefore in experienced hands. The Danish people b to
be congratulated upon this, for Denmark is In a difficult por-
tion, as it comnundtj the entrance lo the Baltic and is aiTected
by ah changes which take place in the rclaiions of France and
Gern:iftny, England and Rjasia, and England and Germany, and
its neighbor* are not too scrupulous, tf the terms of the
proclamatJorij m which King KEedcEich aunounced his Hcce^"
9ion, form a true guide to his character, the prospect is good.
"In taking over the heavy hericage placed upon my shoulders,
1 cherish ihe contideni hop? and ofTcr up the sincere prayer
that the ALmighiy may grant me the strength and the happi-
ness to carry on the government in the spirit of tny dearly-
beloved fithet, and the good fortune to arrive at an under*
standing with the people and (heir chosen representatives on
all chat tends to the good of the people and to the hap|>tne&ft
and well being of the beloved Fa.therlandj" Whether the se-
cdEiiy of the country will be assured by a procJamaiioil o4 \\%
I
J 90S.]
CvttsEitT Evsurs.
»n
neulrality, with the guarantee of the great Powers, or whether an
offcniivc and defensive alliance with Sweden and Norway, the
other two Scandinavian countries which w«re of old unilcd
Older the same rale, will prove the best safeguard, 15 a ques-
tion calling for Mttkmcnt in the immediate future.
Hopes have been entertained for
Austna-Himgary, some time thai the conflict be-
Iwetn the Ctdwh and the major-
(ty of the Hungarian Parliament was on the point of seillement.
Several Hungarian statesmen or politicians had interviews with
the Kmperor-King without any good result, but when Count
Julius Andrassy again came forward as the Tepreaentative of
the CoaJition, and was received by his Majesty In long and re-
p~ited interviews^ great an^icipatioiiB were farmed of a recon-
ciliation. The negotiJilion^, however, have come to nothing,
tnd to all appearances Hungary il on the point of reverting
to a semi -absolutist rvgimi, or, what Is more likely, to a revo-
lution. The chief point aT issue is what are the rights of the
King as head of the Army, and as defined by Article 11 of
Law XII. of the Compact of 1S67. The Hungarian demands
4re. in his opinmn, inconsistent with his consrilutional Hghia,
and the granting of them he considers would be a dereliction
of duty. jQe Hungarians, an the other hand, claim that the
independence of the country guaranteed by the Compact is
impaired by the refusal to grant their demands. The cause of
Uie trouble is found In the ambiguity of thft Article — an am-
biguity which was recognised at the time and deliberately
adopted in order that the Compact might be made. The pres-
ent generation is reaping the fruit. Ambiguity is the mother
of strife. Through Count JiJius Andrabsy the King sent a
Message to the Caalition, laying down four conditions for an
amicabEe arrangement To ihis message the CoaEitior, after
miture consideration, sent a reply. This reply was not ac-
ceptable to the King, and Count Julius Andrasay wjls informed
that his misaion was at an end. The situation is, therclore^
more serious than ever, for a further Etep in an absolutist direc^
tion must of necessity be taken, since commercial tiealjes have
been made with Germany and require ratification. Thit ratl-
Acation should be made by the Parliament; but, inasmuch u
874
CUXftEXT EVEXrS^
[Mar.
that budy will not Ibten to any proposals of the Kfj«rv»fy
Ctbinei. the Crown iiedi wilJ ratify the treaties Jtod thereby
do wh»l it it not empowered to do. For a loo|£ t^mc the
taxe* have not been collected : the HiinearJans reruse to make
pftymenin to An imconititntfonaL aiithority» And a coibditloti
bordering on anarchy seems at hand.
The mlluence of AuMn'a in externd affairs has been greatly
diminithed by those internal dU^Ensinn;. This may rot be
AH unmitigated evtl, for that influence has not always been al-
together bBTLe5i:ial. The i-LElghbofiiig Dalkaji States especially,
ahhousb in some reBpects ihey have beea hetpciJ by AuMria,
yet in m&ny ways have had to suffer from her The dedre of
these Suies tf> enter into « Confederation runa counter to (he
ambition of Austria to extend her dominron£ to Salomca. Tin
weakness of the Stares, consequent tipon dtvJsion, su[ts her pa r-
poic- The Auttro fiungarian Empire is now the victim of divi*
sLon. and Servia an<t Bulgaria have ta.ken ftdvAuiagc of Ibe
Ituation to enter into a Convention for free-trado betwoea
themselves, Thta Convendon \% looked upon as i first step to
political union. This proceeding excited the ire of the Act-
trian government, and it peremptoHly and, as it appeArs, uo-
^ustiEiably required ol Scrvta an uncondjilona) abrogation of
the Convention* Thifi demand Servia procipily retused. Aes*
tria Cliereupon brought an end to negotiations for a commer-
cial treaty which were goin^ on* and cloved her ffoatiert to
imports from Servia. As those Imporls were largely pigs, the
result is the bieabing out of what is calUd a " p=K ** w»r.
I
As for Germany, to for France tbe
F»ou, Conference at Algceir«s bu beea
the most absorbing of tbo nation-
*«! mtereilB, In Internal ajf^tirs the election of M. FaUi^ei as
the sncces^or of M. I^oubet, followed u few wceWa afterwards
by the transfer of power, has taken place with perfect tran-
quiJity, The tnignU with England has not sutTcfed from
the change of ministry in that country; in fad, by the vi«t
to France of the London County Counciilors. it baiS received
A fresh confirmation. The Fr<aident of Veaaiuda h&s been
guilty of a grievous afTront to the dignity of tbe Repub-
tjc by hii treatment of the FTen<:h representative, acd wt\\
I
1906.]
CVSMEJur Eveivrs.
S35
doubtUss h&vc to pay the titling penalty. France in this mat*
ter is acting in such a way a& practically lo recogriLxe the
Monroe doctrine 10 the iTillc^t vxtert, having don* nothing iii"
dtpead«ntly o£ Wathln^on- The making of th« inveniorlee
of Church property, con^quetit upon the Act Tor the scpa*
ration of Church and Sute, has led to the active resistance of
Cilholicft fn many pUccs, This active resistance does not seem
10 have been approved of by the Cardinal-Archbishop of Paris,
for he instructed the clergy merely to offer passive oppoai-
tJofl. These instructions directed that the clcrey were not to
«o-operaie m taking the inventories, but should not oppose it,
And that, after enlcring a protest, they should open the r«-
CeptactcB containing the objects. We trust w« shall not be
found war^ting In due sympathy for our fellow- Catholics in
France^ if we say that the time fo oppose a \rw is before it
has been made, and that the bitter experiences throngh which
they are now passing shou^ stir them up to take an active
part in electing representalivee who vrill nol pas* iniquitous
lawa^ The people of France are now its law-mAkers, and a
grave responaibllity rests upon each and every Catholic so to
ijse the power which he shares with hi» fellow-cJlitens that no
bad laws can be made, or if they have been made, that they
shall be repealed. If all the Catholic* of I'^ance were to act
in this way, it should not he impossible to undo the evil work
of tb« past Ses!iion>
The Morocco Confcreace.
The Conference 0/ the Powers, so
long tdked of, ha$ at Eaat met and,
so far, has had but little result.
It has, of course, no legislative power. It may possibly lead
to a coercLvc actionj but only on the condition that the Powers
are unanimous. The Sultan reserves h\% Hght lo discuss and to
reject any conclusions arrived at, even by the whole body. His
independence and sovereign rights and the integnty of his do-
minions were declared at the outset to be the fundamental prin-
ciples upon whJch ali discussion was to be bated. Even so, the
Sultan enters into the Conference, not from any desire for re-
form, but only to get money. The state of anarchy which ex-
ists, owing to the Tact that nine tenths of his tubjccis are In ft
itftte of chronic rebellion and mutual warfare, prevents that
■uistAnce being given to him which is all that he cares for.
S26
CUJfRE.VT S^SXTS.
fM
ar
The importance of the CoTifrrence ie rlue to the fact Ihat Gcr-
miay hu made h the ground for ihe quarrd with France, and ibe
question of d«epe5l intcreat is whether Germany wiU allow iho
Conference lo make any definite Eettlement, In the want of
such a scEttecncnt the stale cif suspense which has so l<wif ex-
isted wiLi be inde&nitel/ continuedp
We have lo record jrel aAOtber
Italy* change of ministry iti Italy. Th«
reconstruction effected a few weeks
ago failed to find the requiallc stipporE. and ImmcdUiely upoc
the reas^emblmg of racliament an atliick wa» tnad^ upon Sig^
aor ForCia. Five groups banded Ihemaelves together a|rftlnti
him and his colleagues, Strange to say. those oppon^Qts had
nothing al which to complain in the matter of hU policy. So
hard were they to please thai, while they approved of Ihc p<A-
icy. they would not auppori the men who were ready to carry
it out. A new miniatry has been formed^ with a member of
the Right for its head — Baron Soonino; it includes ^Linon^- it*
members an avowed Republican. The new Miniatcr for Foreign
Affairs is Count Guicciardini, a descendant of Fr»nc;c»co Guic*
ciardini* the g^reaC hi^lorian. Finance ■£ the matter oJ all
others in which Italy finds her ^reate^t difficulty. The nt«r
FreniLer has already proved himself to be the best Finance
Minister that Italy posscsacs.
Tht convictions sxpressed in this
THE CITY-THE HOPE OF volume* "are ihc resuU of several
DEMOCRACY. years actual political cKpcncnce
By Howe. ^^ ^^e administration ot the Cily
of Cleveland, Ohio» as well as fii
personal study of municipal conditions la the leading cities of
America and Great Britain." The author holds " thai it is the
economic environintnt which creates and controls man's aciivi-
tic9 &s well ac his attitude of mind," In the twenty chapiets
oi the voluinCt the author presents his views of the city cf ibe
present and oi the future; the pro5t and the loss to civiliia*
tion through the growth of cities; the actual American cfty with
its amazing corruption^ and its causes, which are mainly said to
be franchUes. the boss, the party, and the sy^em. Municipal
ownership is proposed as "the way out."
In harmony with that plan, it b piopoaed to revolutionisEe
city govrrnmcntf creating the " City Republic " with new char-
ter, home rule, and extended powers. More democracy is pro-
vided through initiative and Telcfcndum, the abolition of upper
houses in city government. The author advises a land tax which
will appropriate to the city unearned increment. Ai coroplc^
mcntary measures to provide ior "the wards of the cily," the
author favors workshops and industrial wages for the hclpleas
find outcast, Many other measures arc proposed incidentally
throughout the work, all expressing favorable view* of extended
locial care of city welfare.
While the volume is Intended to be an argnment, it Impresses
one more tike a sustained oration. It is fervent, vivid, and
honeEt, possessing to the fullest the charms which auch trails
impart, and cvctv page is bright with hope. The author actu-
ally rushes his reader at a rale oj speed that may cause con-
fusion rather than conviction. One does not see a World's
Pair in a day, nor docs one convert oneself to a doaen new
radical measures at a reading or a sitting. If one might read
■ n« Crr— Tin fitft '/ Drmotrmey. By FrtJi-rK C- KEm4. Pb.P. P|i. Jl^, N«w Vflrk:
82S
ji^Eiy Books.
[Mar.,
this work viovtjr, one who is sjrmpathclic wilh vrry much of
U» CdchiDE. u the reiriev«r is, would get real stirnulaiioD qui
of it Bdt when lh< vivul and istcnse manner of the author hur-
no ihc reader, in sptM of himself* from revolution in cily gov.
•rttcuat to rcYoJution io t43ifttion, from diminiition of Ihe Stale
to exahfttJOB of tli« city, from the record of indescrfbabk cor*
to tb* tig^t tnd diarm of boundkn hope, the reader
«iU iftd tlut bf th« time his (yinpathies arc au-ak.
lod fiwrt for oae propoaitlon, they may b? ready to
u a scgomL
As « p*Gt«r« of • condition in city life to wbrch, let v*
■ay come; «i * revrUcion of the hope and otthu-
tb« cae«e of reform attracts and reioforcee; and «»
appeal to the oob)er instincts of men, Dr Howe'»
rit> a cordial welcome- The public mind h in a
«f iMcntt aid tyapaifay toward municipal reforn.
volvsif aboald >a4oefkc« many and win them over to the
«| whkJi the asCbor ts representative, if not to all hit
ivn%. Ad amy oeeils fl>n- ^"^^ ^^^ charts; patriotisn,
b*X aiio taciicL Ri^'m aeedf inspiration, but al»o fuiiiancei
proph«C9^ boC abo bWMK Mctt. The cause of muntcipalowver-
fKy mmM te fa rtlW d asfltfcently if some DDc could devjie
« mI^ pcMtkiMt satbod to «0*blr Mayor Dunne to effect the
ia iTMrayn He a«d fcift council and the dly >fand con-
I
City <ti Cbk«c* t* *^
TW »fovtet ttac* «ii
popalar vote committed lb<
owacrvhip of ctieet r ail way s-
•ncGcsdnUy, but the communiiy
loa <lifficuLitcp whicb confront
yMitt <M iMaiM oi^ Dt. Ho«v'a work adds much strength
Wk ^^ ttuwUDTt ■*> irfftf : fooiibty more to inspiration thaa
amn m wt^g^tSnm tba« to ^ uEdanc<> In the prcs-
^ ^k |dtftT_lfcl Mvicwcr does not doubt that the
fcj-fc «HUl^ MWttfttilh WMdh iM wiaming over many to some, if
^ «t Uia ptf^^^ ■am^irar F«« will be won to single*
llift M ^tMlE wilb more fairness on municipal
Mt wttb tbv propc^Hed change in eiiy
^jta-iao^faAJiviMk ^4* W^r ^*^ '**^ ^^ impulfc to demand re*
^ X WMte b««k bvt balpa to stimulate the at-
^ :t^^i^viQtw^U will justify itwlf.
That
l9o6.]
K£iy Boons,
839
The fellow-cillKcns, and c^peCkAlly
COUDEBT'S ADDRESSES, the co-religlonists, of the Ute
Frederic Rene Coudcit will wel-
come thi^ volume* a& the iriomjinent of a. noble man. It ia 3
witness, as far as it gues, to the culiureH the broad, human
iympathiea, the kindlyt sunny dispofllilon, the high moroJ tone,
(he loj-aity to country and lo religion possessed by the man
who wa3 known^ thrnughoul America, and m Europe too, as
one of the most successful lawyers of his day. These addresAcs.
which might be cjilled essays — for they were carefully prepaied
And are not marked by any pronounced rheiorioat character-
Are of % quality to indicate that, had he given biro^eU up to
letters, he might have attained a high place in litCTature. The
Addresses are divided into four cJastes : Arbitration and Inter-
national I^w; History and Hiography ; Moral and Social Prob-
Jems; Social Organization, II ie from among ihobc of th« third
division that we would choose tome that b^ve m permanent
value. One on "Morals and Manners " is a delightfully itac,
yet sound, disquLSitJon on the progress made in the moral
ttandpirdc. Another, " Lying as a Fine Art." ostensibly patterned
after Dj Qjincy's classic jeu de-fsprtt. is a clever stricture on
the mendacity of history; and, in hi£ selection of fallacies to
illubUate his argument, he instances some that have been per-
tinaciousJy employed against Catholicism' A long letter on
the divorce question, written to Dumas when he had published
his book in defease of (he Ln Nit^tut, attracts notice, both by
the Atrength of ite argument and by itd correct, idiomatic
Ffench, a language which was as familiar to Mr. Coudett as
'Urai English. It might be added that his English jhow£ a
lightness of touch, and a subtle, subdued wit. which arc strong-
ly suggestive of bis Gallic origin. A peru&al of the book can-
not fail to gtvc rise to the reflection that by the cfeath of its
author the Church in America kst a conEpicuou^i nJiciiLer of ■
ciafis >n which she \s all too poor, that of educated, conscientious,
loyal laymen, whose talents, success, and probity relle^t credit
upon their mother- The words which he one« applied to
Charles O'Connor may fitly be referred to himself; "Can you
wonder that I cherish and venerate the memory of «uch a
man, to whom the Almighty had given the brightest inteUccl.
the tenderest heart. :4nd the niost fearless spirit?"
Sjo
N^H' Books,
[Hat,
It is not uncommon to bear frooi'
SKETCHES FOR SERMONS- ihe lips o( a f»itWul church-goer
By Ft. Wahehflm. some such rcmflfk ju: ** Why <)>■
not prkstt vary ihoir terman*?^
They aXw^ys travel around in the sime ctrcJe. Once you he«r
the Gospel fea4, you can tHT what U cominc< 1 have bees
lietening to that same old sermoo on the Prodigal Son, of
on 'Render to Cxsar/ etc., £liLce 1 was in the Sunday'Schuul/'i
Ona chief factor in the maintenance oF Iht^ monotony com-
plained dE is that preachers, for the most part, take the Goiptl-
of the 4Ay as the basU of their inaEruction; and the compo^eii
o/ volumec of ^c^inons follow the same system. The ept>ik»,
are almoat completely neglected, Yel \i tt were only to *9*
cure the advantages to be g-ained by the introductioa of va-
riety, the routine might be profitably broken occasionally by
an eaplanatton of the epistle. Besides, in many cases, the
eplatle provide) ground for certain lessons and instruction*,
more appositely than does the corresponding Gospel
For this reason, we believe that Father Wakeham has pro-
vided in the present volume,' a very useful book for buty
priettfi^ The sermons arc not fully developed diKOursei, but
skeletons, or outlines, which ate to be filled out by the preacher.
Such sketches, when well made, orderly, and compotod of
pregnant, suggcitrve thoughts, are incotrparably more prod-
able helps than U a complete, ready made iiermoriH In bok
instances, ihc priest who makes U5c of suth « Acrmon will
neglect the ampllficatioa« aitd devclopmentt, and appropriate
only the essential fciturea. Or, if he coramitH the entire ad-
dress to memory, forgetting that cor ad cor /tf^uii^r, he will
probably have reason to wonder why ht faiU to make naocb ta-
prcsaLon on his audience. There IB, however, no myatery for ktft
hearers. They would tell him, a« they frnpLeiilly lell one
another, thai they would rather hav^ a few plain, earnest 'word».
spoken with heartiness and conviction, than an cleffant oration
falling apofi their eai-s with the impersonality of a phonograpli,
or striking them merely as an exercise in elocution. By taJrific
a »hort schema, such as Father Wakebam provid«B. and ma-
turing It in his own mind, the preacher will have a nemon
that will be his own, and will make its way to head and he^rt^
Wateham, Si, Juicpli'* "?*'ii"nify, I^^in+mo-lic, Ssw Vuilt, S*cuf]j Uvu*. CkHGf oa
fi^iikei. New Tork: Jueph t- WKcnsr
19^.]
i^EW SOOKS^
S31
In ib« selection of his matcriaU Father Wakcham ha» drawn
from the approved sources, the Fathers, the K^reat spiriiual
wTElcrs and thcologianij avoiding aryibing approachit p 10 ncv*
chy, emptiness, or irrdev&nce. We wish the book the grati-
fying success wlijch attended tbe author's previous voJumc.
THE INDIAK PROBLEM.
By Bumphrey.
This is a nafraiive," carefully pre-
pared by one acquainted with Ihc
oftidal artd non-officid records, of
ihc dealings of the United Sutes
governnicnt with tbo ReSfivalion Indian&n With mucli sympathy,
which frequently swella into indignation against wrong and
GrueLty, Mr. Humphrey reUles the successive treaties made only
to be broken, the successive removals of the Indians from one
location to some other less desirable, at the promptings of pri-
vate greed, while the nation of high ideals locked on apatheti-
cally- As Mr, Humphrey tells it, this is a sorry story of greed,
perfidy, and oppression. While arraigning the &y&i£m which
made these doings possibly Mr, fiumphrcy acquits the Ameri-
can people of any intentional connivance. " Can this business/*
he write^r "be charged to the American people? Certainly
not; public opinion, whenever it has been su^ciently aroused
to tAke notice of Indian affairs, has invariably been with the
Indians. But it can be charged to the extremely popular sys-
(em of government which holds every national cfiicia] wilh his
ear to the ground, listening to popular clamor. Rule by * the
voice of the people' is well enough when all the people aro
interested, but a diiaintereFtcd, contented people will not take
the trouble to rule anything; this relegates local cnatieis to the
control of a very Jew — the interested few/'
Unfortunately, in the history of the Umatillas^ the Nex
Ferces, the Poncas, the Mission Indians^ and other tribes, the
Author has abundance of facts to sustain hiji charge, and to
illustrate the appalling extent to which the system oF jobbery
ihapes our legislation. The practical lesson which Mr. Hum-
phrey draws is the one which is heard, just now, from so many
quarters, that the people must awake and put a stop to the
prevailing system in which the representatives ol the nation,
who do not really represent, sacrifice the intere»ti of the many
to the greed of the few: "There 15 no quick remedy in an
•ppcal to ihc people. The remedy mnit go deep inti> {^rounded
notiQnB of what conslttutes freedom and what really is govern-
men! by the people^ then il may react thai inMiluiior of pcr-
vertciS fiincEiona, Congress, The prime rci^uisite for the nd*
vancement of the public good U to instil in the public mtnd »
deep, perflUlcnt dlstrtiai of Ihe National Cortgress, Only by
atiiring to the <Iifpths can there corae Iftsling good." The book
mLghi bavc been strengthened by precise references to the
documents and ftuthorJtie& quoted.
By Mra- Alexander.
This large and handsome volume*
ift a genuine treaaure-hou^ti of ha-
giograpbical liierature^ containinff
over one hundred and twenty
piecei of widely varloua chaTScCer They are selected from 4
range of authors that begins with Saints Jernme, Ba^j, and
Augustine, and comes down beyond the Franciscan chroniclet.
Mrs, Alexander, who has discharged the translator's task very
faithfully and gracefully, has drawn from four wdl-lcnowo c^
lections: Sefccttom from the irVj ef thf Hffty Fathers, ugithr
Ufitk tki Sfifitua! Field (Venice, tfiJj) ; Selections Irom the
LUfts 0/ the S-ainti and Bettti rtf Tusc&ny (Florence, 162?) ; St-
lecifofis fronii the W^ntitn of Qod and His Saints (Bologna, fl
<593)i FU^^rj fi/ San^ify tVenlce, 1736) Many of them be*
long to authentic biography; while a great number are of the
kind whose sole purpose la to convey a reMgioua or oiorii ■
truth under the guise of an anecdote or a story* and othen,
i^ain, are clearly the offspring of that simple, chHd-Uke credulUy
which, a» Bishop Hedley says, though closely associated wilb
piety, during the Middle Ages, and at a much later date In fl
certain countries, is at most hut the trujtffial etsusf of pietyn
All of them, however, are edifying, and many of much spir-
itual beauty. It is encouraging in observe that the noa-Caih*
olic world is beginning to understand the true value of such
literature, and to understand, too, that the CathoUc mind al»o
know^ it, We ar<: getting away Irom the days when respectable
writers often enforced their denunciations of Catholic prcten- ■
sian, ignorance, and credulity by pointing to the Golifen f^gend
as a sample of the beliefs which the church imposed 05 gene- ^
Ine history on her flock- |
'/i Liht jyov^/ nffit wiM4 .VtM44 d^:^rittfiMtA,r.^mi--tamA^nfi. tmh.
1906.]
n^Etv Books.
8J3
This Is a partial life of Ktng D^
REX M£U3. vW — bsscii on ihe Scripiurca — in-
tended as a book of mcdilation Of
sptrituil feft*img-* The writer assumes, w[Th a composure that
might weM cMche th? envy of our prof«Ksio(i^ Scnpluriels, ihat
Dflvid, during the years of his carl> manhood was the accom-
plishfld type ol every Christian virtue, and even of ChHstUit
chivalry — 2. perfect syntheslfi of St. Aloysius Goniag* and Sir
Galahad, FtirEhcfmorc, she takea tor granted thai even ihc
[iiosc trifling incident or circumstance of his career, and every
abiUr dictum d the sacred narrative, ought to contain tome
typical reference |o our Lord, or fii^nie prolound moral or rrli-
^□U3 Lesson. Extensive reading in spiritual literature, as well av
in such secular works aa ihose of Rusliin, Mfa, Craven. Matthew
Arnold, accompanied with a finely trained imagination, enable
her to read into the lexi a wealth of Eiiggestinn which it always
tender and sentimeEital, and sometimes of solid practical worth,
persons aeeusComed to serious commentary of ihe Bible maybe
inclined to find the book too liberally stocked with gratmiou^
conjecture; and souU accustomed to the strong nourishment of
Sl Teresa might 5nd that, occasionally, the sentimeniality is
somewhat cloying.
I A Southern gcnUeman, a veteran
I TflE BROTHERS' WAR. of the Eighth Georgia volunteer*,
^^ By Rtied. a survivor of P'lrst Manasica and
^B Gettysburg, and a member of th«
Ru*Klux-Klan, Mr. Reed contributes a lively votumef towards
the mighty majs of literature that has grown around the Zi\\\
War and the negro question, past and present- He reviews
the origin of the war, and appreciates, from the Southerner's
point of view, but \t\ a spirit of kindliness and consideration
for the North, the clauses which led to what he loves to call ihc
Brothers' War. A wealth ai personal reminiscences hetpt to
render his discussion of topics fresh and orlginaln though, it
must be said, too, somewhat desultory. Calhoun. Toombs,
Webster, and JefTerson Davis come in for lengthy considefa-
tlon. It XB Ml. Reed's opinion that, had Toombs been 10
Jefferson's place, the South would have been victorious. So
*A>j> ^41, Ri ih# A\M\'i.tt.t Atf Qt,tt^ atJtJfVf^a. Willi PrtfAH b; KkiibCfirr.
t TAi /ireflirf IViir. bj John C- Hot^. bf Omglik. Ili^iina -, Uitlff, Unm A Cft
VOL. l.XXXU.— SJ
bcre is a C45e where Longfellow'^ reflection on the might-bAve-
been i& not appropriate, Mr. Reed makes a atroog plea to
Northerners to fttudy the race <)ueGtiofi of to-diy from the
Southern poinl cjf view. His own solullon ftir Ihe prevent
probLcm is to transplant the negroes into some territory vhere
they may form a Slate of tbcir own- Hampton, TutkageCrand
ail other such enterprises must fail ; for the pure bloodetl negro
is not yet fit for education- The colored man who haa ritcn
is not a pure negro; and with the growing antayonitm between
the races, the admixture of white with negro blood mual di-
minish till il eventually disappears, The cfTorl« of Bookct
Washington^ of whom Mr, Kccd fpcaks handsomely, cannot, be
tells us, reach more than an Inaigniftcant fraction of the race,
whik tht great mass is left to pursne the way of hopelFS,s de-
generacy. Again, those persons towards whom we have ex-
tended sympathy, because they have been slighted as Desroes
amid a white population, nowise represent the great black popu-
lation. Some very scniible words concerning ihe propriety of
appointing negroes to federal ofiicea in the South biiQg this id*
strijctive book to a close.
I
SIR EDMUND BDRY
<iODFHEV.
By Alfred Mark&.
Again the question, which was once
the signal for a " Reign of Terror"
against En^rlieh Catholics, is started
and answered-* Mr- Marks, like
Echo, replies: ''Sir Edmund Bury
Godfrey — he commfttcd suicide. " Mr. Marks discuiset, »hh tbe
acutcnes£ of a criminal lawyer, all the evidence— that of the
coroner's inttnest, that furnished for the trial and conviction of
Green, Bury, and Hiil, In 1679. and that from the trial, four years
later, of Thompson, Paine, and Farwcll. It says much for the
lucidity of hie treatment of the mas^ of coniraclictions, ob-
scurities, confessions, retractions, and conflicting testimonies.
that his reader may follow him without any great strain U
attention- He brings out forcibly the character of the inr:rc<i*
Ible frenzy which possessed English Protestants, high and low,
during the excitement of the *' Popish Plot," and. In pasiiog^
be scorches two other writers who have treated the subject-
Mr Pollock, for his want of imparTiality, and Mr. Gairdner,
for the peculiar views he enunciates as to tho employintnt of
V«Lh«tJ-H. PfflicJi.SJ. NfwYorki HcnUflgi lUmbiri.
1906,]
New Books.
»)S
bjrpQthcscs in historical invcstigatjon, Tbeie U. wc believe,
an error in the stat«jii«nl ihal TJUs Oatc^ oncc joined ih^
Jasait communily, Hr was an inmate of a Jc&uit houfic
of studies, but never a member of the soclety-
THE OLD MISSIONS OF
CALIFORNIA.
These two books * are not Only
the latent, but each in lis ntvn
way \^ the ablest and mo^t com-
plete, among the contributiora to
the history of CaUfornia and its Missions, A considerable
Jileriture has grown up, and deservedly, about the beginnings
of civilizition on the FaciAc coast. »nd what gives it a MOgu-
lar interest are the ai^hl and possessions of i[« noble Tnoitu-
To those who are sympathetic and Imaginative, California
is and ever will be a land of romance and wonders. As a child
o( Spain thU is its birthright, and it shares in the glory ipd
heroism which characterixe the palmy centuries of that nation*!
conquest f; and dominion.
The history of Californitt is a series of romantic realities, of
which the Brst and most beautiful h the peaceful conquest by
the power of the cross. A conquest, however, that implied
dangers of land and sea, dangers of the wilderness and soli-
tude, a conquest bought at the price of labor, hunger, thirst,
and even blood, of which we moderns can form scarcely any
conception,
There Is romance too in the life lived at the old Missions;
its happy contentmenE;, its sanctified toil, its abundant hospi-
tality, its wonderful yet simple teachers, the Franciscan padies.
But too soon, a]a;» the sunshLne departed, and the ever-darken-
ing cloudi of political changes, of hindrances and interference,
burst into a tornado of spoliation that 5wept away the peace
and plenty secured by wise guidance and patient toil^ find leU
behind it broken hearts, waned endeavors, a helpless, tcatiercd,
and despoiled multitude of Indians, a scene the more tragic
because of the promise and the rcalj^xtion Jt hud at fir^l pie-
sented. California has other romances as well, that of the dis-
covery of gold, that of ita present growth, that too of its
natural wonders and beauties.
Jp Q\U,cU. Ill ri *\,|«. Sun PruiEjttO : Titv W1ili4k«f k K%^ Cam^iuif . PuMLtkiv Pt. /■ «>*/
Oul^tftt Oiddiiuitm. Bjr QcDTjtc Wliirlon JoBto. figugn: Uule. Djuitd A Ch
«i6
-V£*K Books.
[M»r„
But it is time to mark the scope and lb« execution of th«9ff
two books wc have uniicrlakm to nottcc.
In his twj volume*, Mr. CHnch presents the eomplcu and
■ccurite hlitory, civil ancl religious, oi both Califomras —
Lower and Upper. Ttie firsi dcah with the Jesuil iniBAions ia
Lower CtlifornU, a period of nearly a hi^ndreel ycari> though
In umh this was but the comiauation atid completncrtt of 4
proviout century of heroic worlt \\\ New Mexico fltid Arijiofia.
This enterprise was brought to an untimely end by the harnh
and unjust decree which t>ani£hed the Jesuit Order frcoi Spala
and at] Us depenileiLcie^ in 1767 A. D. His secund volume
takes np the transfcf of the missions to the Franciscans and the
coionliaiion and founding of miasiona Sn Upper California, un-
til tho treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, in 184S, gave the country
to the United Sutes. a period of nearly eighly years- By hii
long residence In Calilornra, hi? knowledge of Spanish, hit
Catholic Judgment, and ^ound Acholar^hip, Mr- Ginch is ecni-
nently well fitted for his task:- He has succeeded in admirably,
yet sanely, putting before us the events and personages, the
legislation and methods, which make up the var^'ing and dift-'
troising phases of California's history. He has disponed forever
of the charges, they were mainly two, vix., that the discipline
of mi^&ion life was over severe; and that the padres were slow
or nnwtllJng to fit their neophytes for civil life and self-gov*
ernmcnt. There \% this additional value in ihU new history^
that it gives us one ooonecEed narrative of the entire Califor'
nian mission work, which i^ apt to be found only in detached
parts In the writings of other authors of merit, as for exam-
ple in the works of the late Gilmary Shea.
Jh and Out of Ihx Old Afissiurn Is a thoroughly satisfying
book. The author's historifal account of the variouB discover-
ies, expediiioas, and foundations ts painstaking and accurate,
hifi defense of the padres and their methods is generoui, hii
love of the Indians whole-souled, and his indignation at the
post and present ireaiment by ojr government passionate but
just. It is not usual to find among non Catholics such unstinted
appreciation, yet the fine old Spanish padre» have raited up a
host of admirerS) for "their works do loJlow them, and their
praise is frooi generation to generation/' The arrangement of
the book is excellent^ and its interest never l!ag£.
TiLcre is a blending of the main facta with a iriinute study
!9d6^]
heh' books.
H7
of detail;. Each mission church is examined, and \ti history.
hs p5)nt» of ftfchitcclurc. i(s micrior adornmeritB, and its relics
are treated and illustrated by numerous photographs- The
author warns u« In sec, to share, and love the^c mission huild-
lags a> he scge and Iove« them,
Finally* in a Catholic magAj:iae we should come short of
cur duty, if we omitted to call Attention to the excellent Work
which 15 being dsne in th^ w^y of restonng and preserving
the o[d missions, and the greater work of obtaining justice
for the dispossessed Indians. The Landmarks League, of Loa
Angcks. has done much for the huildjngs, and the Sequoia
League, of the same city, is helping to create public opinion
and to bring pre»&ure on the national government in behalf of
the Indians- Charles F. Lummis, alarum et ventraltU ncmen^
a non-Catholic, the editor of Out Wtst. is the leader in both
of thcAC great movement£.
This liulc book of Father Hiir**
DEVOTION TO TBE PASSION, seems to us untjueaUonably rhe
By Fr. HJll. best for a practical cuilivation of
devotion to the P^^^lon amor»g any
thit we know. It brings this devotion into dally life in tijch
a way that it cannot be put out except by a distinct deiermj.
nation ao to do. It '\% practical in the highest possible de-
gree; there U nothintf hi^h-flown or merely sonlimentat about
it. And it comes right from the heart and ihc life of (he
JBtithor; it \% thoroughly natural, if we may uac such a term
of what \i $0 entirely aupcrnaturaL 1c contains nothing strained
or a^ecCed ; it is written just as the author would talk to a
Iricnd; and tt has most eminently the charm of a kindly sim-
plicity. In shorty the book is really a little treasure; and in
lia* HO siftaW that it will actually lit a veat-pockel, though
moiC beauttfully and cleurly printed.
PAIR MARGARET.
By Crawford.
Scene: Paris, on the ed^e of
Bnhemia^ Character*: Margaret
Donne, an aspirant to the career
of a prima donna; Madame Bon*
RBnl, who has «njoyed a long success in that same career, and
trht bu gained the right of being spoken ot m drawing-room*
s^s
NBiV BOOKS.
[M»r..
f
Bs " !haT dreaflfnl woman" She, however, upsets ihe tradi-
tional view that all women, and all singers, nre jealous of ns-
lag tlviXi, by proving herself a valuabU fiicnd to Mktgatet,*
Luahtngton, who Inves Margaret, and is beloved in returr>, but
will not ask her hand bec^ii^e he isn'c Lushington at all, bul
somebody else, on wbwe antecedenta rc«a a cloud, which,
by the way, also encircles Madame BonnanL Logolbcii, a
Greek, Ubulously rich, and goccesslul in ibe world of finance,
who i« the very incarnation oi the ancient Greek aeithetae
spirit, hardened by a dight d^i^h of the m<}dern brigand. He
fs madly in love wfth Margaret, who certainly Biris with him.
There are several minor characters, including the sersiblc. shrewd,
and dfcoroub American, Mrs. Ru^hmore, Marii^arei's guardian.
The denckuement is the attempted abduction of Margaret as she
proGccdc from the ^tagc to her dressing-room, afier tn cpti^ttc
triumphp Thc&c Ingredients, flavcicd with a good dash of p«y-
chologicnl analyAlE, chiefly mf the female leirpeTament, and
much acute observation of manners, condensed into aphorisltc
Strength, are mixed with Mr, Crawford's characteristic skill and
carefulness. The story ends in a way that seems lo Miggest
that it wili have a sequel For when the ^flck that was sup-
posed to contain the fair Margaret is emptied in ihe presence
of the person who instigated and expectcii a pfofil by the
abduction, his ''eyeglass dropped from in place, the jaw fell,
with a wag of the fair beard, and a look of atony aftonithment
came into all the great features, while Madame Bonnam brok4
into a peal of laughter/^ And with the big-hearted woman*!
laugh ends the first part of this history. The present addition
10 the Crawford library doeit not promise to dispute the posi-
tion of the Samcinfica series, thoti^h, like alt of Mr. CrHW>
ford's work, it belong! co the 6rst cla£« of cuirent fiction.
This little bookf is a s)'llabu5 of
THE DOCTRINE OF GOD. lectures covering Ihosc portions of
By vt* Mall. theology which, among Episco-
palians, are, we believe, called
Dogmatics — the nature and scope of thcclc^y: the auihotiiy
of the Church; Holy Scripture; Theism; the Holy Trinity. It
■ /VjiV Jttv^tvt' A fi^r^iJ. &/ F. M*r(ofi CrtLwIiml. Kew V«1( i T^t Mumtllu
C0Tn|4jif.
lT4^t>¥,Mwt^Gfl^ 8yPniKtiM1iiU, !>.&., tnirruciofor TIwoIoi:t In ib« Wrutr*
i
I906,]
A'^W BoOfCS.
»19
»
is pleasing to find the author indicating as useful, and, soiDcumc^,
&.% indispensable, sc»ra« c( our cU»ic auihoritics, 5t^ Thomas,
Suarez, Pelaviufi, and even flome of our modern texl^bookft,
[life Ffflnaelin, Schouppr. and WifhcTm and ScannclTa Matin.ii of
Catholic Thtolo^y. In many pans of the work one is sur-
prised to find that the methEni of Uearment rdlow^ doacly the
Une« ol our theology. The book contains a copious bibliog-
raphy which win be oi service to students engaged on qucs-
lioni of Natural Theology. One n somewhat surprised, on
inspecting this extensive and representative iUt. that, while
it includes Newoian'E DtvfhpntfHf of Chrisliun Da^trim. /Jm of
a (/Hivirsit^, Arians of iht FoHfth Ctnturytt and Tratis, tU-^
there is no mention of the Crafnmar of Asien/.
Those who afTect to see in the
TBEIIALIAK IN AMERICA, enormous flow of immigrants to-
By Lord and Others. wards our shores a danger lo our
political institutions, our indusliial
welfare, and our moral standards, unnaily agree to point out
the ttalian a^ the mo^t menacing hgure in (hie hostile ad-
vance. Following a Massachusetts Congressman, they insist
thdt the Italian race is not suiLed to our oivitizalion ^ it will
not, or cannot, assimilate with the " Anglo Saxon," Degraded
by c-cnturies of oppression, it is incapable of appreciating our
free institutions Besides* the g^reaCer part of those who come
here are illiterate; and, satisfifid with a siandard of life far be-
neath that to which the American workman is accustomed, they
are able to work for lower wage$, and thereby crowd the
American out of the field ol labor. Much of their earnings
they send out of the country. They, for the most part, con-
gregate in the slums of the great dties, and thereby aggta-
vaie the prtvaihng evil conditions, Finally, thty furnish an
undue proportion of our crtmlnals and paupers. This estimate
the gentlemen, who have jointly put forward the prcsenl power-
ful vindication of the Italians, prove to be grossly unjust, and
to have no other foundation than ignorance or prejudice.
This volume* ofTers the results of a candid examination into
the facts of the catt. After a brief introductory lurvey Into
• TAt /biiitii .(1 Amfwy^'i. Ry BK^l Irfrd, AM.. Siicirltl AtfTtt ol VftlTnl &Mi« Temli
Cthju*' social SCftiniici , Juhn J. D. Tnnur. ClitJmAb cf ImmitrKTlitb CoJnjnKEH, \4tLDEul
fiojinJ «f Tiad*. AhBUnE Sdiiton, t^; Kmnual J. Jl4(t?wK. y^axtujot l*iluti] AvacJurian
flINc* VDit Nfv Vork: U. IMSacL a Ca. ifia rtah Av«i-u«l
^40
N£iy BOOKS.
(Hmr..
I
the coQdttioi]» of life in Italy, and a consideration ol ilic <auf«*
w^Li:^ iciiiiCR thi3 home loving people lo ciiiigrai« in such oum-
ben, the wriUrs discuss, succffssively, the sticiak, ccunDmic, «nil
roofal fcfltdies of ihc lulian settTcmenia in the gfcal dlir?, lo
the Tinning ricldA, ^nd on the f&rm& and planlationE, chiefly in
California and the Southern States. Abundant MatUlic* art
offered to demonstrare thai the greater proportion of ihe lialiin
immigranta are yonvi^. of iine phye^uv. tndu»tticua, energetic,
peace- loving, and intelligent, quite capable of making headway
In the keen competition oi this country. Again In the maltcTA
of pauperism, disease, and crime, compared with other et^mcnU
of the popuEatJon, the Italian shows up very creditably. A« to
aasimilation, education, anil pro£ro9St though nothing, or aJoioai
nothing, is done by the adult itnmigranta, their children awiflly
ageimiUte Atnerlcan ldea» and educatEon, and are seldom want-
iag in ambition and persevering industry to make the cuoftt of
the chances offered lo them to rise in the socini scale.
From }fow th Oihtr Hot/ Livti, of Mr. Jacob Riifc, which
Mr, Lord has drawn upon copiously, he quotes, concerning the
advance of the Neapohtan immigrant: "Starting thus, below
the bottom, as it were (in the congested heart of New York
City), he has an uphill journey before bim to work out of the
slunis^ and the promi&e, tu put it mildly, i« not gnod. He do»
it, all the «aine« or if not he. his boy. It is not on luIiaA
sedimeac that breeds the tough. Farental authority hat a strong
enough grip on the lad in Mulbeny Street to make him work,
and that is hJa aalvation. * In seventeen years,' said the teacher
of the oldest Italian ragged school in the city Ihit, day utd
nighi, ukefl In quite six hundred, *1 have aeen my b«ys work
up into decent mechanics and useful citiaens almoat lo a man;
and of my girU, only two I know ol have gone aitmy.' 1 bare
obicrved the process often enough myself to know that she wa«
right. It is to be remembered, Eurihermore, that her tchoot \»
in the very heart of the Five Points* district, and lakes in al-
ways the worst and the dirtiest crowd of children." And what
the Italians of Mulberry Stieet succeed in doing is done, we aic
told ccjuvinnrigly, by their brothers and sistvra averywhere in
and around the great cities, in the fruit and vegetable fama
of the Middle West, the orange groves of California, sad the
sugiir plantations of Louisiana a.n6 Alabama
Apnrt from its value as an important contribution toeiards
1906.]
N£W Books.
841
a correct statement of th« immieritioa problem, thj« volume i»
well worth r*;ading' The burden of the meas^ges ddivered to
QSr JLi9t now» by the students ^n<1 observers of «aciaL and ecDno-
mic cocdiilons In Amcrka, is somcwhai depressing* with lis
den uEir^iat ions of present eviia, and comptcnientary prophecies
of impending disa«ters. So oni; is thankful for an occiEiona^
trcAt of cheerful optimism, such as ihe contenrs cf this book
offer- And one TcqU the better {or having come in c<jnt*tct w/\xh
Ihe spirit oE brodd-minded philanthropy which ha^ impelled
this distinguished trio of "Anglo- Saxons," with their wide in*
formation and aemi-ofiiicial prestige, to vindicate, against pre*
juflice and nirrowiteas, ihe sons of sunny Ttaly.
LAT DOWN YOaR ARMS.
By voa 3u liner.
This remarkable work of fiction*
has obtained s. world wide repu*
tatiort, which may priJve as endur-
ing as that achieved by Koffinxi^yt
CrvfOi, The Sorrowi of XVerthtr, and Unelf Tern's CMh. Chief-
ly through it the RUlhor obtflincd ihe Nobel Peace PriKB Jor
1905. Il has already been translated into almost every Euro*
peaa language. More than twenty years ago Ihe Raroncsuvon
Suttner became interei^ted in the woric of the Teaoe and Arbi-
cracion Association, and resolved to aid Ihe movement by writ-
ing a little tale that should »et forth the wickednesi and the
horror of war. In an interesting article in the Sndfpffidtnt of
February r she relates the repulses wirh which she met from edi-
tors and publishers when she submitted her manuscript- "The
story would not interest the public/* "It would ofTrnd many
readers.'* " Ic was impossibfe in the exUting state of military
alTalrs; and would meet with the disapproval of the powerful/'
Cerlainfy the classes and individuals who look upon war as
an clemcnr of civiliration, a hcivcn-ordained school for the
training of a people in the virtues of self- sacrifice, courage^ and
palriotism, could not but regard with disfavor Ibis work* which
Stnpi wir and soldiering of the line feathers and l^ne phrases
in which convention and tradition have disguised the ug)y and
ruthless monsters. The tale purports 10 be the autobiography
of an Austrian counteBs who, at eighteen, maTrieM an ofhcoTi
shortly before the outbreak of the war between Auitna and
SvltDer- /kniliohiTd TriinaMilf»n by T. Hclmea. RolKd I; rite Aui^ftem. Svfi Yurie i
AEtf BOOK^
iM^M
I
Sardinia in 1859- She ta«l«s wir'a first bkt«rr]C£« in the 5<pa-
Tition of herself and her husbaad. af he protects to Italy, where,
on ft bloody Teld, he H dcstmcd Iq lay hU bones. As the story
doi^lops, we arc carried, successively, through the campaign t>\
S;:bl«awIjf-Ko[»CeJn, the Austro Pru»iin War, and the fiiegc «(
P4flf, where the 4uEObiography closer in a ctimai so sad and
tragtc that the reader feels tempted to eicpostulate witb the
authnr for bfing too eruel-
Regardcd merely as a Jiovd, the book ha« line quaZilie
the fearter'tt interest never flags, and the realism is so vfgoroui
that one w^o docs not Icnow the facta wHI continually feel in-
clined to suspocc that ihe autobiography i^ fictitious otily as far
ai the namcf ai the prmonagcji are concerned. FUleen monihs
after the publication of Lay doi^n Your Armg^ the author teUi
ui, an elderly geniZeman f^tllcd at her residence in Venice.
*' Djel the Hxroness von Suttner live here ? " he aslced. "Yet;
•he it my wife/' was the answer given by her husband, who
had opsned the door. *' What, you are the husband of Madame
von Sutttier— Hertha von Suttner?" •" I certainly am/" ''You
Atit not dead, then?" "With your permission, I am still hv-
lag,** -'But were you not shot at Paris?" "It seems not,"
This Incident conveys in a nutshell the graphic %ividnc*s
with which the story is wrmcn. In the conver*anons and dis^
cussione, in the family scenes and in the development of the
various characterA, the writer clevcTty brings in, and refutes, all
the viock arguments and jtrrjuHJc^s that are enlisted fn Favor
war- Vet chb is dijnc with such grace and ease that the
feider never feels that he is being cheated inLo listening to an
eisay or a thciis under the guise of a story ol iSle. The battle-
Aold with the carnage of the 6ght and the sulTcring oi tho«e
who are left behind when the wave ha^ rolled iinwatd, the agonies
tAd toriures of the improvised military hospitals, where disease
sulkt in to aggravate sufTering and swell the death roll, are de-
picted with «triking force, Noi a detail of the dreadful tableau
hit been forgotten or omilted, except the nameless infamies
which no woman's pen could write — that are recorded by the
historians of such scenes as De Bourbon'a sack of Rome, or the
storming of Badajos by the English- In the personal side ol
the story, in which there Is many a page of exquisite tender-
nei«, the author enforces with equal sklil the text that if
men must f^ght, then women must weep, and the parsing tra-
1906,]
NEir SOOXS,
B43
^edlcs of the b?Et1e6e1d are permanently Instaned in the sane-
titles oi ihe home, with it« vacant chftir And desolate Urc^ide.
To quote a detached passage from this book is something
ljk« extracting a single pebble from ft due mosaic and olTerine
4t as a specimen of the whole, Vet we will reproduce a few
Lines from the page or iiivo that relate a visit paid to the
batlLcAeld of S^dowa on All Souls' Day; "It was IwilEghc
already when we got to Chulm^ and from Eh^nce walked on,
arm in arm, to the butleficld near at hand* in silent horror.
Crowds of graves, and the grave of crowds, were all around Uft,
But a churchyard ?^no; no pilgrim weary of life had there
been invited to reSt and peace; there. In the midat of theif
youthful fire of life, exulting in the fullest strength of their
minhood, the waiters on the future had been cut down by
forccj find had been shovelled down into their grave mould.
Choked up, stifled, made dumb forever, all those breaking
hcirts, thoae bloody, mangted limba, thoscr btUcrly wecptng eyes,
Iho&e wild shrieks of despair, those vain prayers. . • - I
hid heard for several hours weeping and wailing going on around
nie- 'Three Eons — three sons, each one more beautiful and
bfttler arid dearer than the others, have I lott at Sadowa/
aaid to UB an old man, who looked quite broken down. Many
otherin beaideSf of our companionsn mingled their complaints
with his — for brother, husband, father. but none of these
made so much impression on me as the tearless, mournful
* Three sons— three sons' of the poor old man. - . . We
had now come to the spot where the largest number of war-
riofB, friend and foe, together lay entombed- The place was
walled o/T like a churchyard. Hither came the greatest number
of mournefs, because in this spot there was most chance that
Ifacir dear ones mtght be entombed- Round this enclosure the
bsreavcd ones were kneeling and sobbing, and here they hung
up their croise^ and grave tights- A tall, slender man of dis-
tinguished, youthful figure, in a general's cloak, came up 10
the mound. The other* gave place reverently to him, and I
beard some voices whisper: 'The emperor,' Vcs ^ it was
Francis Joseph. It was the lord of the country, the suprtme
lord of war, who had come on All Souls' Dsiy to offer up «
•ilent prayer for the dead children of his country, for his fallen
warriors. He also sto[>d, with uncoverod and bowed bead, there,
in agonized devotion, before the majesty of death, Long he
844 N£w Books. [Mar.,
stood without moving. T couLd not turn my eyes away from
him. What thoughts must be passing through his soul, what
feelings through his heart, which, after all, was, as I knew^
a good and soft heart?"
Is there not some encouragement to trust that we are ap-
proaching, however slowly, the day on which the nations will
beat their swords into ploughshares, when we find such a noble
plea for peace and universal disarmament as Is Lay Dovifn Your
ArmSt issued to an attentive international public by the daughter
of an Austrian lie Id- marshal ?
The first volume of Dr. Kent's
STDDEITT'S OLD TESTA- text of the Old Testament," ar-
MENT- ranged according to the documen-
tary hypothesisj gives promise that
the completed work in six volumes will be a precious help to
the student, and even to the general Tcader, of the literature
of the chosen people. This initial installment gives the narra-
tive of Hebrew history from the creation to the establishment
of the monarchy under Saul. We may say, therefore, that,
however Important the later sections will be, the one before us
wilt prove the most interesting and valuable of the entiie
ssries. The body of the book is simply the biblical text ar-
ranged in columns according as the passage falls under the
Jehovistic, Elohistic, Deuteronamic, or Priestly documents. At
the bottom of the page are a few brief notes; an extended in-
troduction explains the documentary theory in simple lan-
guige; and finally there is an appendix of utmost value, con-
taining translations of those Babylonian texts which are con-
sidered to have influenced early Jewish thought and religion.
Arnong these texts are the astounding Hood-story of the Gil-
gamesh epic, the creation account of which Marduk is the
hero, and the Adapa myth found in the tablets at Tel^el-
Amarna.
Speaking lirst of the general scope and purpose of the work,
we would call attention to the great vaZue that It possesses
merely as patting some of the main conclusions of higher
criticism withm the reach of the ordinary reader. We need
not necessarily be in sympathy with all, or even with any, of
those conclusions to acknowledge the advantage of thus pos-
■ TMe Sibtiinfi Old T/stAnent. Vol, 1. Namtioti 9f tht Bi^iiwinp ^ Heirrv SUtorj.
By CherlcE FocTer Kent. New Vork : Charles Scrlbner'i Sons,
I906.]
Neiv Books,
Hi
leasing Ihcm ip accessible and corvcTiietlt form- The oniy
ether similar pr^scniaiion^ of the entire Old Testament text at
present wlLhia the grasp o\ the reader who does not Wnow
Germttti, are Ihe vulumes of the polychrome Bible now issu-
ing. One Advantage at JcaEt over the polychroitie Dr, Kent's
^ricg can daim. and that ig on Ihe score of cheapness- Our
«econd general remark would be a word of praise to Dr, Kert
for having an eye Tor the religious setting of the Hel>r«u nar*
r4livcfi> for having followed the relij^hngeichk^tlkhff Mftk&de^
ao far oa \C\^ plan permitted, and having put ua In loirch^ hoih
in the appendix alrcs^dy cpoken of, and here and ihcre in ihe
footnotes, with those religious conceptions of Dabylon and
Egypt which are tikeiy to have tinged the thought of Fulesf
tine. We tru^t that the learned editor will pursue this method
In hii later volumes, which will deal with Hebrew literature in
the Persian and Greek periods.
Coming down to a matter of detail, we regret that Dr.
Kent arranged the bil^Iieal text in parallel columns. This not
only make^ ditHcult reading, but neceasitate^s great gapa and
transpoaitions, which cause a reader to tutn frequently to
the index of texta in order to find the poHtton of this or
that verse whUh he may wish to took up. And as for gaps
in the narrative, we need only nientti?n thai the Bock of the
Covenant U not given in this volume at all; and we are told
that we must wait for the lourlh volume before we find it.
We understand the reason why it is plated thua late; but it
would have been wise, we think, to include k with the rc*t of
EitoduB in tbis volume^ ^'i^ th«Q print it again in the volume
devoted to la^i^s- The beat practical way, we are inclined to
think, for publiaiiing the text according to documtntf, ia tbe
German manner of giving the text just as it occura In the
Bible, and using dtJTerent type fur the various sources. Per-
haps some very exacting critics will raise the further objec-
tion that this volume gives only the great divi^jont of the
documents and hardly recognises the successive r?diicliun$
which criticism in some quarters is loudly proclaJmirg, While
we admit some force In this objection, we ate not dctiroui of
making much of it- We feel Aure that the work as it is, will
do a better service to critical scholarship by thujii avoiding be-
wildering technicalities in which after all there is a great deal
of conjecture, *
M
JV^rt' jbqojcs.
[Maf„
In cooclasion, we would graEefuUy acknowledge the service
that Dr. K«nl is h«re doing (or the cauae of biblical «cliolv-
flhip, both by the ni:h kerning which he brings to bis t&ik^
and by the gentle cetnper with which he accampliahes ll- We
shAU bok fofivartl with pleasant expei;UUon» 10 the it&d\ng of
Ehc future volumes of Chia series.
CATHERINE DE' MEDICI.
By Sitheh
This is a series of connected itadUl
of personages,* chiefly women, con-
spicuous in the e^rty hitiory of
French ProtestanitEtn. The %iixt6
writer^ whose reputation as a tniiior hifiton'an^f we may borrow
a phrase which she applies to herse!f — ha^ been eslablishfd by
her IVem^K aud Men of the Frtnth RfVoinfioHt prcicnt*. here,
the results of much research tn outof-thc-way paihi and much
plodding through dd memoirs, documents and books, whicb
have received but little recognition from the hiMoriana who
have aimed at a comprehensive narrative of the times. She h«5
made good use of her material ; and her picturesque pagea are
e/idencE that the current dictum, history is no longer ■ science^
but an art, is to be received with some reservations^ Though
her work consists chiefly of a few brilliant portraitE, she i»ci-
dently passes in review almost all the soldiers, statesmen, acd
religinus leaders of the lime, as well aa the dynamic ideas and
tendencies that met in the shock of eventi. Nor is any Mrr
dt font needed to bring under observation all the great features
of the cBTly ^tage oE French FroieBtaniisiti, when we ate form*
ing an eilimaie of Catherine de" Medici and her rival Diana.
Grande Sdncch^lc de Rouen, the Prineesse de Condd, aod
Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, If there is some groupd
for questioning whether the following view may be received aa
universally tiue, its accuracy regarding (his period of Freccb
history is beyond dispute; "Every movement has \\'a person;
its representattve; and since men are entangled in aeilon*, and
actions disguise motives, it is In the women* the clear mirrors
of current feelings and tendencies, that integral types of an
age will be found. Tn Italy the prevailing corruption was so
subtly interwoven with poetry, its women were surrounded by
so rich a glamor, that real outlines are bard to dUtinguith; but
in France* with its brilliant scepticism, its dry, scintillating
Illicit. Nbw Vurli : E. P, PuM^ib a Co.
I
I
^
i9o6>] Ji^siv Books. 847
atrnofipher^ of natCcT-of-Zacfness, t^pes stand out as cri^p as
French aphorisms. In France, thvrcfoie, we shall not be slow
to find ligures ihai ^um up whole periods: women who aie, as
it wer*, epigrams expressive of profound experience/' The
book contains phutogtavurcs from fawous poUraitf.
The aiudcot of history knows the
FRANCISCAN LEGENDS, deep impression made upon ihir-
Bf Salter. teenth century July by the Poor
Man of Assisi. and the student of
art finds in the painling^ of the period 2 most remarkable evi-
dence ol the purity of the inspifatton which flowed Irom St.
Francis. The volume before us at present* Is the summing up
of travels made in Central Italy, the home of the Franci«cin
movement, and o\ studies carried on in the lileralure of Fian-
ciscan art. For one who has visited that land of poetry and
picture, or for one who looks forward hopefully to an approach-
ing visit, or even for one who has feJ< the fa??dnatJon of the^
story of St. Francis, ibis book contains much that is attractive.
The writer has given a sketch of the salient points of the saint's
Lile, and a fairly complete account of the various legends and
the paintings which represent them; and has added a repro-
ductton of some twenty of the more famous pictures. The vol*
ume i£ further enlarged with aji interesting table of the painters
who have been more or less identilied with Frant^iscan art. and
with a few pages of directions to iravelers intending to include
in theL[ pilgrimages auch places as Giibbio and Montefatco,
The illustrations of the volume are weU chusen and very well
reproduced.
In a little book,! which makes no
WOFDS OF ST. FRAHCIS. aiiempt to go into scholarly ques-
By MfltDoiini?IL x{ax\^ concerning (he authenticlly
of the various works from which
selections are tabcn, Miss MacDonncIl uEes to retted i^omeLhing
of the spirit and temperament of St- Francis lor the benefit of
the modern reader. The prevalence of the attraction to the
Sftint of AsGifii felt throughout the world to-day gives reason
* t^TMiiitsn tfn4j in itatl^aA*!. Ticiurea in tullan Church m *niJ Crfitlarl ft- lijr En-
triA C'LLmc^r i^oiKj-. WLihTwrniy niuiimEont, Ntir Y«k; £, K DviUn t Ca,j Londan;
J. M, Drril A C«^
lV<4 by AaJLg Mucl^vDnaLI. I^pilan, Jh U, LoniA Lq.; New Vurk: tC. V. UuEUtiA C«.
848 New Books. [Mar.,
to believe that a welcome will be accorded this new contribu-
tion to the body of literature growing up around the person-
ality of St. Francis and gradually assuming such vast propor-
tions. The editor sets aside ail doctrinal considerations, that is
to say, endeavors to select passages which bear on practical
topics and matters of conduct rather than on theology. This
will probably help to commend these pages to a wider circle
of readers, and on that account to introduce some very lofty and
unusual ideals to the notice of persons outside the fold to which
5t Francis belonged. When one contrasts the message brought
by St. Francis to bis age with the faults and weaknesses com-
mon in our own day, one is drawn to hope and to pray that
the Providence which sent bim into the world wilt again com-
mission some holy soul to revive forgotten devotion to sacred
poverty and evangelical simplicity..
In this historical romance* Father
THE KING'S ACHIEVE- Benson, who in By What Author^
HElfT. ityf set before us, with fine dra-
By Benson. matic force, the third act in the
fateful and bloody drama of the
English Reformation, now treats us to the lirst, the suppres-
sion of the monasteries and the proclamation of the Royal
supremacy in religious affairs- Those who have read his fine
story, with its vivid picture of Elizabethan times and doings,
need not be told that, together with the imagination and the
constructive art requisite to produce a powerful piece of fic-
tion» Father Benson possesses the minute historical knowledge
requisite Co give a true and vivid picture of life in Tudor
times. There is a slender thread of continuity between the
fictitious characters of the present story and its predecessor.
Stout old Sir Nicholas is here a young man ; and Mistress Mar-
garet, the ancient nun of By What Authority? !s here a young
postulant, who in her novitiate is turned out of her convent
by the king's visitor. This visitor, by the way, is her brother,
who turns his back upon the religion of his fathers to seek
fame and fortune by assisting his master, Thomas Cromwell, to
render to C^sar the things that are God's. Cromwell, Fisher,
Sir Thomas More, and, of course, Henry himself, all pass be-
fore us, very live and real, in Father Benson's pages. We get
* Thf Kiti£' 1 Aihicvti^ent. U> Roberr Hu^h Scnson. St. Louis; B. H«dn-.
19o6.] NEW BOOKS. 849
a gtimpae of cont^enl and monastic life as ft existed al the
time of the RtforojitiQn : the racthods by which evidence againac
nonka and nuns wna inBnufaclufed, and the conduct ol the
men who carried out the visitations and supprcsiiiona, are made
td flii palpably bsfore us, N^r does Father Benaon, who knows
how to give tbe Ihou^mJ trttle touches which invcsl charactviK
And ficcnefl with Ji realistic power, spoil his effect by milking all
the orLhodox vtrtuoua. and assigning all the wickedness and mcan-
ne5& to the heterodox. The work does not, on ihc whole, show
as miLch careful eUboration a^ il« predecessor, and its portrai-
ture of Henry falU short. In point of vjuidnes* and individuaU
ity, of that which Father Benson has drawn of Elizabeth, In
compensation, however, Ehe atory has more unity and propor-
tion, chiefly because there arc fewer characters to claim the
attention; nor, ^fter ih« removal of Some of the principals, is it
so long spun out its to diminish the reader's infereal,
Some impertinent person said that he got a clearer concep-
tion of Louis XI from Qutntin Durwatd than from all the his--
toriarr;. We have no doubt but that many persons^ wilf be
helped to gratp the process of the FngUsh Helormatjon much
more by Father Benson than by Lingaid or Gairdner
The Spaidin^ Yaar-Btfok ■ ts made up of brief and excellently
chosen extracts from the v&rious writings in prose and verse of
the distinguished prelate whose name udom itg covers Many
a ^nc inspira-tion \& to be found within the pagea of thi£ little
volume, and the daily reading of an extract would be a proJita-
bte exercise.
The volume fr$ik fii^iifry miii ihe Irish Questien, by GdM>
win Smith, which was extenfivefy reviewed by Rev. Morgan M.
i Shccdy in the February CaTILOUC WoRlD, Is published by
McCturc, Phillips & Co.
We are indebted to the (/nian Pacific for a striking photo-
gravure of the Oldest Inhabitant of the Line — a great, strong
bUon.
BUhop SpAldmc lor AEh day oMhv yfiiT. SilocwJ bjr ftntmM E Cvwun- CtLlcBgu: A. C>
McClurgA Co.
VOU LXXXIl — $4
J^orcicin {pcnobicals.
73W friik 7ht4hiH&i Qnarttfly (J*")- ^l"** U ihe inititt num-
ber ol a Aow niitgjidac, conduclctl and wriiterr bjr the
ftcuUy of MaynoDih. Judging by this first issue, which
is excellent Sn content, and in appearance one of Ihc
bandiojziest periodicals published, we should say thai
the purpojie ol the editors is lo produce a magsEine
H^hich ihiil be primarily a m<!Bns of acquainting ordj.
nary aad occaalonal students of the iheologkal sciejiccs
with (he best work and the Ulesl discussitrtiB tn (bat
field. Rescnrch work, stricTly speaking' *il^' i* would
flafltn* be secondary ti> ttits popuUriting purpose, The
firrt article is by Dr, W, McDonald on fiome modera
tendencies of the ihciMic argument. The writer bioit
that J(cienc« has brought us new Ijght which rcvca]»
problems And methods not exactly contained in the
classic thptstic demonstration of Si, Thomas, however
sound and stable thi$ may be in substance. In particu*
Ur Dr, McDonald warns ns against laying too great a
burden of proof on the fact that thus far spontaneous
generation haE not been ejected-- The same wrltcf
contTJbuteE a tnoat excellent article "About SocUlifim,"
in which he endeavors to cast the thought of Sodalisoi
in the term* of moral theology with a view to enabling
the clergy to judge more accurately the tencta of the
system. In the Light of theological principles the so,
cislistic theory of value and materialistic inlcrpretatioa
ol history are examined very carefulty and much mis-
understanding ig set aside- The aiticle is one which
well de*erve« to be reprinted and widely drculated. ^
Dr, MacRory's article on the biblical question reminds
us that [he ofRci^l pronouncements of the Church re-
garding Inspiration leave us a wide Imitude of inteiprc-
tatioa. Of the new school of Lagrange, Hummetaucr,
and Poets, he spcakf guardedly, but wiih very cvideol
sympathy. Dr. Toncr"s tludy of the Kenotic theory
give! a very good summary of the various views of
1906.]
Foreign PEttioDicALS,
«S'
Tht
Keno^is, and adds to them Xhn Catholic prircjplcs which
must be retained tbrough&ul. The viinl qucfitlcn at i£-
»ue, I'Uh, th«L of ChrUl'a knowledge, Df, Ton*rr doee
not fsce. However, he is to have a continuation of bis
nudy in Ihe nrxt niimhcr In *' Pre-Palikian Chfis*
tianity *' in Uclattd* Dr, MacCatTivy takc& i^uc with
flome conctuEJons of the Ccftic scholar Zinsiner-^^— And
Dr. Harty writes a moral paper on the cacre<fnc»s oi
prc'iuu] life,
lablst {37 Jan,): German Socialbm is discirsscd by a
leader in thU number. Unlike the explosive ouibums
in Rijsiia. coherence and stabiliiy are m*in[/e*Tcd in all
the 6ocialJsric dtfrnonslratmns In Germany. The weap-
on of the German dissciiler* \% the appeal 10 the rcascn
and to the scnee of juBtic* \vi Ihe ma^ces. The power
of Socialii^m wculd be far greater than il is, were it not
for ihe strong CaihoUe ortjani nation which offcf* an
unbroken front to its irretigious dogroaf. Between iheie
two forces, aa between the pHnoplEs of good and evil,
a perpetual duel is waged. The Roman Corrtspond-
ent announces that an importani Papal ruling againtt
Ihv ftproid of New Te&tanient errors may bo expected
in the near Furnre.
(5 Feb,): Apparently there is a party in France who,
even alter voting for tha Act of Separation* still decirc
to have a voice in ihe election of bishops und clergy.
This secnia to be inconftiatent with the stand of the
French GovernmentH There is a further report froto
Rome that the Holy Father will appnifit biahopa for all
or nearly all of the seventeen vacant sees at the coming
Consistory.
Church Qaarurlf RfviiTsi (Jam,] ; A fourth inhtalment
of Ihe article on *' The Chriiiian Societyn" deala with
the beginnings of development In the Church, start-
ing from the appoLniment of the seven deacons which,
the writer says* chough a ilight incident in iiself, " inU
liated a series of events of fsr^rctcblng inipdrtancc, and
trdnsfoimed the fmall cammunily at Jcriiialrm into tbo
Universal Church.** The article then discusses the Instl*
tution of these seven deacons, the itinerant ministry, the
appointment of picshyter^, and the central Church at
6$a
FOJiEiGN Periodicals.
|M»..
Jcmfialem, The phytic^], political, sociii]. ind rcl[|poo«
CfUtditioiis. togfiher will) ihe i:h;tractfr of ihe natives
And the progress of ProtcMant TnJfsioss in Central Africa,
9LTC discu&scd in an artkle on^Misdoni in Ny4s»l«nd/'
• Alter citing a list or ihirtecn Mori<» of EngfUh
school life, the writer of an aniclt on "School Tales"
poinU out the dil^culties attendant upon the writing of
such books, aod (htn exdmines how far ChcAe didicutlfr*
have been overcome, evndcd, or disregarded in the tiles
eautnerat«d In the Hat- From the cvider^cc obialncd from
these stories the writer further examm«Elhe tfuih of ihe
stalerrient of one author ihat, '* I'liblic bchooU afe, aa> a
rule, as good as human eiTori can make them, but ihey
are not heaven-" The reference is to the Enghih public
flchoale,^^— In "The Evidences for the Kvhuirtction of
Christ," the writer, starting Ifcm the gcncraliy admitted
proposition that the primitive Christsann *' believed ibM
'Jesus lives' because they believed that J<9U» roie." io-
qurrea into the question of "what tvidence Temarrs to
us oE these apparitions of the Christ after hie borial
which satisfied his dUciples that he was really alive"
He finds that St. Paul's witness rs " a stAlemenI of testi-
mony which in any other field of history would be re-
garded as of extraordinary weight," and rejectt aa ia-
sulHcient the explanation of this witnettfi ae giwo in the
" subjective vision " and Kcim's divine revelation theotlet.
The writer also rejects the current view that St. Paul
"knows nnthing" of the einpty tomb. The witness of
the lynoptrcs and St, John are next i^onaideffd Jind fonrd
not to disagree with St, I'auL A^ a result of hi» inquiry
the writer holds: "The cvidenfcfor the Rcturrtciion of
CbrUt can survive the tett of a do» *CTUlloy, eveft
though no pi^stnlAic of minute inerrancy be made oa
belulf of the witnesses; and when so examined with an
open mind, and without the prejudice that ' miradea' are
impoflsihle, it is found to be of a high degree ol credi*
bility."- In an artide entitled "Liberal Tbeokgy,"
contJAued from the October Qumber^ the question ib pro*
potwd : "Have miracles ever happened ?*" aad disemsed
from the viewpoint of the conceptions of Nature's unl-
fonnity and the continuity of history* Other contentc:
"Cburcb Music"; " Recent Excavations la Crete*'; Book
notices,
l*Jatiffnal Jffvifw {¥<h.)' Contains its regular depftrtmcnl,
" £pUodc9 ol the Month," with patiicuUrly lengthy
comment on the lale ejections- "The German Em-
peror's Crusade Against the Entinh CerdiaU." by Ig-
fiotus, tnaint^inB that WillEam IT, broke wJlh BL^ni^rck
because the latter taw in Germany a land powers the
former wished to make Germariy a maritime and coJo*
nJal power i hence the beginning and continuation of
WlUiani II/s opposilton to England's poUcy. The fact
that the Germans are now showing kindlitr feelings to-
wards Great Britain must be viewed by Britons with
fiome reserve, " The Labor Tarty: Its Aims and
Policy." by J. Keir Hardie, is a sketch of the Labor
Party since ita first beginnrngs^ of which the most visi-
ble sign W4S the famous dock strike in LondoHn '"The
l^bor Party." says the writer, *'wiN ait in oppnsUion to
whatever government may be in office " The immediate
coniiiruciive policy of the party will be an attempt, through
legislation, to restore freedom of actions to the Trade
Unions. " Mystificaiion," by Maximilian, recounts bciw
Bismarck saw ihe duty of German statcsmanshtp, and
how a Bismarckian should view Germany's duty al pres-
ent The auihor's complaint against the German Em-
peror is not that he ifi hostile to Great Britain, but that
he failed to conceal his hostility until the hour for strik-
ing came. ^' Army Reform/' by H W. Wilson, tells
what England should learn in this matter from France,
"Home Rule, Rome Ruin." maintains that Irish
NalionalUm means for Treiand the lose of the Catho-
lic failh, "Shaw and Super-Shaw," by Edith Bal-
four, sugge^rs EhaC in ''Major Barbara" thcEe is lack-
ing that Touch of imagination Jind grp;ttnets which makes
a hne of poetry or a harmony vibrate in the souL
^'American Affairs" arc reviewed by A, Maurice Low.
"Mr- Walter Long in Ireland," is a very compHmen-
(ary review of the late Chief Secretary"* adminiMiation.
"New Zealand and British Football/' is a compati-
soiL oT the two styles of p1av» and of what the Eng-
854 FOREICr^ PERIODfCALS. [Mar,
landers may learn from the New Zealanders. " Lord
Milner and the Struggle fot South African Union," is &
defense of Milner's efforts at conciliation and humane
policy.
Etudes (20 Jan,): The publication of a new work on the Prac-
tice of Mental Prayer, by a French Jesuit, is the oc-
casion of an article on that subject in review of the work
from the pen of Auguste Hamon. He praises this new
work highly, and recommends it to all persons wishing
to devote themselves to the love and service of God.
The. Gospels are the chief sources of the work, together
with the use of the recognized masters of dogmatic and
mystical theology, such as St- John of the Cross, St.
Francis of Sales, and St. Alphonsus. Its method is very
practical. It is intended primarily as a help to souls.
Revue des Queitions Scientifiques (Jan.): The vast amount of
work performed by the Jesuit Fathers in the field of
scientific research is set forth in an article by one of
their number, (n which he describes the different astro-
nomical ohservatories connected with Jesuit institutions
in various parts of the world, A brief history of each
college is given, and then an account of its observatory,
the instruments used, the discoveries made, and the
books published. Georgetown University is the first
mentioned. The work of Fathers Hagen and Rigge is
especially commented on. The English house at Stony-
hurst is spoken of. The work of Father Perry is especial-
ly noted. Similar flattering treatment is paid to the
colleges situated in Havana and Manila.
La Quinsaine ([6 Jan.): Felix Klein opens this number with
an account of the evolution of the political views of the
Counts de Moret. So encouraging is the condition of
religion in Norway that Paul Bureau devotes considera-
ble time to a consideration of the Lutheran religion in
that country and a fortiori to the prospects of the Catho-
lic Church. He describes the manner of education of
the young levites, the work of the priests, their virtues.
With the aid of one of the pastors, he points out the
essential difTerences between Lutheran and Catholic doc-
trines and practices, chief among them being the Luth-
r906]
Foreign Perwdfcals.
«55
eran in9iiienc« on the fatherhood of God. As to the
condition of the Catholic Church, hs seems to frel not
over-enthusiaHic. Two cbstadps oppose ihe progress of
Catholic doctrine; first, the bdlc( ol the people that
Catholics adore the BJesicd Virgin, pr«trve, as icHca,
feathers from the wings of Gabriel, etc ; sEcondJy, and
mors iiuporlant, the independent temperament of tli€
Norwegiann ^vhich cannot brook the exactions of tbo
Catbolii] Cbumbr Just as ^oon as the Cathclic religion
adapts it&clf to the character of ihia people, the Catho-
lic Church ti\\\ find many strong, virtuoufe taci\ and wo-
men seeking adoiJssirn Jnto the true fold. There have
been some conversions recently, but the Church really
seems tcarcely prepared lo receive those souls which arc
drifting toward her from Liilheranism, No thoughtful
man can deny that the exclusive predominance of the
Latin element in the Church during the last three cen-
turies has deprived her of Ihc benefits uhich would have
come from the infiuerLce of more progresfive snd freer-
spirited peoples. What is aecded i£ a return of the
Anglo-SsKon elcnent,
{} Feb,): The religious and literary event of the season
ii the appearance of a new romarcc by Fogaiiato, en-
titled II SiiHio. A discussion of this book js begun m
this number by K. SaleiUes. Ch.-M, dra Granges es*
poics the two contradictory theories as to the part played
by Julie Bouchaud in the works of Lamartine-^- Gcorg«
Fon^egrive, continuing his series of articles on '* 1^
Moral ec Je Social," treati of the various aspects of
goodne&a. The Individual has varloui goods, but he en-
larges these goods in proportion as he dielnbutc^ Ihcni
among humanity.
La Civiitit CattoUta {%Q Jan-): Padre SchilTini's book on the
Ldivintty of the Bible, vindicated against modern innova-
tors, is summarifcd. The learned Jesuit wMrnh Those
who admit any real error whatsoever in Scripture, that
5t, Thoina>» and Beltarmtnc consider such ;i poiliion
heretical- Moreover, the two hypotheses advncaifd by
■0 many Catholics nowadays, thai the apparently his-
torical passa^s of the Old Testament may be only the
856
FQJi£^iGX P£PJODlCAlS,
[Mar..
opinions of ih« iinse. and noi objectively imc; an^l
Mcondly, the hypothcst* ol impUdl quouiion^, arc lo-
tally r^jcci^rd by the illuttriDus ibeoiu|tian^ K« ailio
cr»iB at length the controvcrBy ihm AgirAicd Douai ftcd
Louviin in the j&ixleenth century, whether God has in-
spired s/tf-aa/iiitr tvery irulh eiipr&&scd in Scfipturc.
Pjui X and Merry del VaI have congrntoUied f S«bM*
l^ni on hU relutaiion ol ihc fericaf^t rd amJofi mcti/A
which prevail in biblical criticism,
(3 Feb.): Thii number is largely taken up with the spread
of Liberjii Catholicism; no l«sa than three artkles beleg
devoted 10 thai iubiecl. The fiist of these, entitled
"New Men, OU F-rtots," remarks the alarmtnic indiCA-
tiontf of liberal views Jn theology which &rt appcariog
in pracEicalJy atl tile civilued countries of the woirld-
Kverywhere, young clerics e^prcUlLy. w» in lo be tnfil-
tratcd with unThonistic philotophy, with biblical criii-
ci»tn, «nd with a geneTsI menutiiy which undi to drift
from (he VdoeraMe wnys cl (hinWln^ whi^rh prevailed
and were systemaHEcd m the Catholic achoQlv of the
Middle Ages The r;i<iical fault seems to tie in bad
philosophy. Even Lolly's views of Scripture ar« due
to German philosophy. Wc must all take caie le»t the
novcliies around ua actually win pos«»»ion of ihc Caiho-
Hc popular mind, — — A review of Fotidixaro'a famoa»
novel // Sant0. considers it a b^d sign thai *o many
CftthoIicA are prai»ing this bcok, full aa it \% with Lib-
crd Catholicism- These Liberal Catholics Arc forever
crying: Reform! Reform! as though there were any
need of reform. A third article notices an ajiony-
mauK letter now circulating in Italy, whtcfa claim* In
have hsen written by a theologian to a proft?s>or of KX-
thropology who was troubled with theological and doc-
trinal dil^CLilties, The thcolEigian is afitoniahingly broad
in his views of dngma ; to much so, that the writer in
the Cifiitii calls him a hypocrite and SgnoritnuiL These
compromise* are another evidence of Liberalism wbich
ir ifi our iluiy to cuunlcract -inU destroy,
U C^rtft^ni/ttnr f ro Jan ) : Under the heading "The Cathotic
Renaisjance in England during the Nineteenth Century/*
, I90fi-]
FO/eSlGN PEft/ODiCALS,
857
Ras^it
M Thaaeau-Dangin contrtbutes a ahoTt histofy oi Car-
dinal Manning'? episcopate, dealing in particular with
the <cjnp'£ made icwards the union of the An^lk^n
with the CaEtiolic Church, and th« pari taken in that agita-
tinn by Manning, Nci*'mflr, Philip dc I.itlc and Vw^ey*
To travel from London Co Calculla in seven days
and six hcurs may sound chimerical, yel M- Andre
Chetadam*^ states that sticK a railroad is a thing of the
future, and i^ in fact the outcome of the recent fnlittU
^ordittit between Russia and England. The present
Jriendly relations existing between those two countries
may be atlfibutcd to the Uct that England tgccc^sfully
pleaded on Rjs&ia*£ bchall with Japan ti> withdraw her
claim of indemnity at Portsmouth.
{:;; Jan,); The second in^italment of "The Catholic
Renaissance in England in the Ntneteenlli Century"
appears, in which arc discussed the rclations^stiained
and otherwise — that exUted between Manning and New-
man^ The article doe£ noi contain much more tha.n can
be found in Dr, Harry's Ne-wm/tn, and rurceU's ii/r a/
Mannittg. Catholicism at present is on the decline in
Austria. The desertions from the Church are numerous.
Not since the "Thirty Years' War" has she suffered so
much- This state ol affairs, as well a* the efforts that
are being made to overcome it, is described in an artici^
entitled "The Congress of Vienna," by Arnold Mullet,
."The HiBtonc Introduction to the Confeiencc of
A!gecirai/' contains a recapitulation ol the cau;ca of the
present trouble in Morocco, A succinct review of the
claims of England, France, Germany, and Spain is also
given-
y Fs (feb.): P. Murillo concludes hie artides on Inspir-
ation with the statement that none of the theories thus
far o^crcd has been able to answer satisfactorily the
present-day difficulties, and that we bad belter content
□ UTSclves with awaiting further data. P. Urgarte de
Encilla begins a sketch of experimental psychology, and
says that ihoujili matcfjaiifem has been prcfe*scd by so
manr of the school, yet this U not an Lnherent bui an
accidental matter.
85B Foreign Periodicals. [Mar
Rassegna Nasianale (16 Jan.): E. Deh6 writes an answer to the
criticisms which have been passed upon // Sante of
Fogazzaro. He begins with a quotation from F. Jans-
scns, Rector of the College of St. Aosclmo: "The mild-
est judgment which can be passed upon Piero Maironi
is this: He is a saint only in so far as one who ii not
can be/' In reply the writer sajrs that if there is reason
for putting // Santo on the Index, as some have sug-
gested, then it will be necessary 10 put also on the In-
dex all the saints who have ever rebuked the errors of
princes, the abuses of priests, the laxity of religioua
orders, the vices of the people, and the faults of the
Supreme Pontiffs. Tki Imitation of Christ and the
Epistles of St. Paul will have to go on the list of
prohibited books too. If Piero Maironi is not a saint,
then neither is Peter Damian, nor Bernard, nor Augus-
tine, nor Jerome, nor Chrysostom, nor Athanasius, nor
Gregory VII., nor Catherine of Siena, nor Teresa, nor
Joan of Arc, nor Antony.
THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION
MRS PEARL MAKY TERESE CRAIGIE, bcUer known by her books ■»
John Oliver Hobbcs, was t^ recipient of many honors during her re-
cent slay in New York. She proved herself one of the best exponents of
woman's sphere of influence as a leclutfi on subjects requiting accuracy and
judicial treatment. Archbishop Farley, with many other distinguished
Catholics, attended her lecture at St- Francis Xavier's Colleg* Hall in aid of
the Dramatic Oratorio Society, The Right Rev. Mon&ignor Lavelle, V.G.,
io hi& introductory address, commended the object of the Dramatic Oratorio
Society and had a hearty word oE praise for the energy and self- sacrifice of
Madame KronoLd, its director.
Mrs. CraigLe charmed her audience not less by her manner than by the
matter of her bright discourse. She reviewed the lives of three men — St, Ig-
natius, John Wesley, and Leo Tolstoi — prominent each in bis own century,
each a type of earnestness and religious leal, and each diJTeiing widely from
the others- Her lecture sparkled with relevant anecdotes, humorous and
gently saiirical comments, and btilliant sallies of wil, that app«a1td to the
humor of the audience and kept them ever on the alert for what was coming
next.
At the conclusion of Mrs. Ctaigie^i tallci the Archbishop added a few
words- He said he had never attended a lecture that gave him so much
pleasure and material for thought, and further that Mrs, Craigie's was one
of the most interesting lectures he had ever heard. He called on ihe audi-
ence to give a rising vote of thanks to "John Oliver Hobbes" for her kind-
ness in volunteering her talents for the goc»d of so worthy a cause. The tri-
bute was given with & good will and with ringing applause.
Before the lecture Hans Kronold played with exquisite skill these num-
bers on the violoncello: '* The Invocation," " The Spinner," "Ave Maria,'*
and a Spanish dance-
One of the latest books to appear from Mrs. Craigie's pen is the Flule of
Fan^ which the Prince&s of Wales and " members of the roya] family " ad-
mit is an adequate picture of life at the English court- Ihe School for Sainff
and Robert Orange are two books which particularly stand Io her credit.
Among [he plays she haa written are " Journeys End in Lovejs Meetir>g," a
charming one-act comedy, written for Ellen Terry and played by her in New
York some years ago, and *'ThE Ambassador," from which Mr, Jo&epb
Choate said, on presenting Mrs. Crargie to the Barnard students, he had
teamed much that was valuable about the duties of an ambassador; and
"The Bishop," now being presented m New York. Mrs. Craigie was born
in Boston, ed^ca[ed privately in London, Boalon. and Paris. She was mar-
ried in ifl£7, and was received into the Catholic Church in 1S93.
» ■ ■
It has become more and more the custom of late for teacheia^ associa-
S6o The Columbian Reading Union. [M«t.,
lions to devote moit of ibeir time lo diacuasioDS of admidiBtrHtive problems,
4Ticl it IS seldom that educational topics as such are discussed. Odc of lhf$E
few discjssiofls, however^ look place ai the recent meeting o( the Schoolmen
o[ Nev York» when District Supetintendenl John Haaien pre&enled a schol-
arly paper on "The First Modern Schoolmaster." Vittorino de Fehre was
the subject of the address, and Dr. Haaren showed how Vittorino^s school, in
the latter part of the fourteenth century, wai in many ways similar to ibe
school of to-day.
Dr, Haaren macnlained that there was but one movement in the Italian
Renaissance and not two separate reviTals, and called attention to (he ficl
that Creek was not a well-known or much used language at that time. Re-
turning to Viltorina, whose real fiame was Victor Ramboldoni, he briefly
sketched his remarkable career-
AmoDg the modern featurce of his school in Manlua were the use of pic-
tures in keeping with the work of educating children, and his acceptance of
pupils, regardless of rank. Then, too, intellectual work was allemaled with
physical exercises ; there was variety of mental tasks ^ music, vocal and in-
strumental, wat taught ; oral composition waa required, and critical and ap-
preciative reading was the basis of the work in that suhiect.
In spelEine he used cards, inscribed wiih letters, to be placed together to
form word?, and there was even correlation of studies, particularly in the
leaching of Greek and Latin. He died on February a, ■44'^, 460 years ago.
An interesting discussion of the features of medieval and modcni educa-
tion followed the pre&entaiion of the paper.
■ ■ *
The Mew York State Commissioner of Education, Andrew S- Draper, re-
ports that during 1904 the State spent $4.T,o64,iS4.l for the education of \X\
-children. This is an increase of Sj, 329,905. The total amount for the high
and secondary schools was $7,S46,386, an increase of $645,153.
Salaries of teachers constitute the largest part— $23,084,21? — of the
$41,000^000 expended- This was an increase of $1,104,831. There was an
increase of $2,321,999 for buildings, sites, furniture, etc, bringing the loial
-expenditure for this purpose up to $10,954,565. The value of elcinentary
school buildings is now $105,572,576, an increase of $13,134,3(7- In distiicts
outside of cities the average value of school buildings is $1,833.63, and ia
-cities $9i»330.90- The average cost of education per pupil registered is now
-$33-45 p ^n increase of $2.30-
There were registered last year 1,797,238 pupils between the ages of five
and eighteen in the schools of the State- Of this number 1,394,680 were in
the public elementary schools, 172,518 in (be Catholic elementary schools,
and 37,828 in all other parish and parochial schools. In addition to the
Jay schools, there were enrolled in the evening elementary schooJs of six
cities, 15,3!! pupils between the ages of fourteen and sixteen years. The
average daily attendance was 935,675, or 76.4 per cent, an unusually high
average-
There were employed in the public elementary schools 32,886 teacher*,
an iricrease of 697, at an average annua] salary of $701.94, and an arerftg^
wctkLy one of $19-94-
1906 J
TH£ CoLUMBiAi^ HEAO/NO UNiO/^.
S6r
TheiDcreaspd aitendance is aiiribuied to ihe more figid tnlorctmcnt ot
rbc coEiipultDry tducrtiiort Taw. During the ymr 1,419 piiicnlS) An >^^rriiie
ur 194, w«e arreitcil Tor vioUtion ol the laiv, and 171O5Z truaniswrre arr»ud,
b dcfrtfiie und^r r^o-t dE SiJoq- The number dI tniiiniq cojumiiicd tu trtiant
hon)«4 wf re 1,357, *" irnrfffa« of 57.
Three ihqUMnd [«-u hundftd 4&ci acveniv- mne tf jchm were errjilojrd [o
five ]ni<triEi:iif>n m Eh? t-iA-^Lipporivd achoD]5iind7i4in the 4Cp)ilcn>ic^> making
jL E«UE tCHchinff force gf 3,99J in ttie fecondary iChooLl of the iut».
* t ■
Mr. John JCTOcne Roixtty, ol ihe CAiliollf Ctub, New York CilJi b»
vriiien ihe (Qllnwing limely aecauni of a fargaiTPn CathMie iviihor;
r^earge H, Mikt w.tsbDrn in Ball)inDrc» MlI,, JuI> ji. ]Gj4- He cnlvred
MnitnE St- M:ify'& Callegt, F-niETii[*iburc, Md-, in LS57, and w;i« };FJldujtlcd
wiih hii-li bonoJt m 1843. He di«d on July J7. 1B71- AfWr hivtn([been
jfriduiiled be bcjgan Lii? study «f Utv m HAlljmtiTe^ He #u idiutiied 10 Iho
bar I and bccAtn^ « member of a firin wCikh enjayrd a Id^k^ nnd lucratLvo
pncttee.
In ipiie uf ibc ptD^pecii held uut by hji new pfofeaiiJiiiip hit Javc of
llFerafUTc and Wia dcvniiun ig Alma Mnrcr irdut^ed hiin to 0^VC up The
pFACliM of iiw nitd nc^^tpt the profeiionhip af t-Ueraiure tn the collejie.
MofiC of bi5 works nere coinpoaed during hi* coojiection uitb Mouni !(^<
Mj^ry'a. During she conifoveraj' en tued irt 1S69 by Hjirnr r nrechpr Sinwe's
hook. 7A/ Trnt Story af Byron' i Lift, Mi. Miica *iotff a poem entitled ""1^^-
ron/* whkh W4i% 4 defcjiK dI The pDirt agaifi^E Mr^^ Slowe'i aliack. 01 ibis
poem. Dr. A. T. Bledaoe, the ertitor oi Tk* Sauiktfn Qvotteriv Jffi'ftti/, sflysj
We were rontempUting An »rll<te of> ihf cbiracter ot Lord Uyioii, and.
b^d pjclly prepared i\. lur j^ubtjcilloni wbrn n purm nn ]t}TDn by Geflrge l"!,
Miltfi w,i4 hnitdcd ro iiSt which, we ihink. will bcllrr Jtccampli^h OEir r>bjrcf.
The pecm, which AnT Hppcared in The BaliLcnore Snri in Scplember,
18^. wji re Li<}b1 lulled in the Ct^labrr number ul tbc review^ Proviugnly
Mr- M^lci hpid written " Mnhammcd/' a tragedy, for wViich he v^i awaided
the iho*i»iinci'rfoll*f pnte otteitd by Ed*in FftrieaE iar thf brM drama Jjv an
American lut^or. HU neht beat wurk is **ChriaiLaei a TrDub;idoui Sonjz":
then followed u number of minor pocm^— '^ RupliacI Snniio " ; »' San Sijto " j
" MarcelU*'; and '" Inkfrmann/' a. *piriWd poem full of mariial vtjor.
Hik bcauUlui poem "Said tlic Kcsep"wbobc autboT&hjp viti ficx iriqintcd
tTLio by a Irnrid^n Jrfiirrial and cirAbllthcd by a wpll'tlmed anlclc wijiicn by
Ihc lale lUv. John McCJoak^y, oi Hatrisburg, J'fl,, puhllahcd m CbfrfKl Ltt-
frtf/irrr of Jjinuiiiy, 1S93, was among the firbl EfTDrla. aucaide nf Catholic pub-
llC4iion«, tu (ill iht incriti of the sweet nnd irue Mnrylflnd ifrger to public
BOl^ce^ Mi^ Milei pubfitbed for the ^CEni-ccnieanidi oi Mount 51. Mjry'i,
In iA}8, ** Aladdln^i Talnce/' d aaliric^l poem, Hit Alma Mater ii the
" fVlid'tin'i [^al>ce,*' iri whieh " AUddin'i grnif lefi ^ne utndow hare/'
Mr- Mtlocwjuatipihf wriiei of iuccbmIuL playe— " Abi>u llnun"; "SiAor
Vulwnltf*'; '^MnpyMlirihday"; b&*idrii "De Sotn^and *► Cronm-ell," lr*Kf-
dfc* in mftnuictipt. Hr »a* alia a triiif of ctnlnercp- Hi* rriticitm of
'- HaulBl/' pubbifaed in 7'^r SenjAe/H QuartfrJ/ J^n-irie, in jS?Oij j» vid by
Broihor AnrUi 10 be *'^ht mod leoTchmg MUdy of ' Hdmlcf *FVer niDde ori
S62 The Columbian Rrading Union. (Xot..
this coDEiBeDt.'' Speaking of faii ciiiiciun of " U*dKtb,^ Dr. IlkJiit. ^l^:
Tbere is > noble piece of 5luk»peareu criikum bnried art <f e*c*'t
liotplv becdnte \\ » DOt beiUr knovn. Tbe oi^er varLi of tlie ^bdt amliiiT
aic DO less neglected,
Orestes Brovnsoii thus speaks of " UohuuBDrd " :
W« hive QD htisiiaiioD in pronaanciD^ it tbe best pocB itf ikc ^-■*«^ Liej
vrl;;ea and ptibUsbed in America,
Eageae Didieri the B^iimore lilierateurT itfao had acEV^ la Mt. HEDec^
cis'iblisiied voik^ of a dramaiic character, says:
la :he Liierary iieid in vhich Sbakespdic van immorialitT' ass 5bcr^
daa. carried d9 his brighiest lapiels, Geoofe H. UUes ha£ **t?i** a bjch,
bi :;j>- the highest, place ia ihe dramaiic liieratcTe o1 AiDtnca,
Mr. Mi>s Broie ibifc dovCj£ — L^reie; er^ tin Ci^a; H^ ^vutnan ;
ai-i Hu Tntct 0/ GoJ/ all veil received al ihc lime of pohibiazum.
Cr-:;c.snj5 of Mr. Miles' "orfcs appear in Ths CaTBOUC 'ffcffijii,
Azgst^ 1I66; Catholic Wokld, May, iS£i.
Mrs- He3en O'Donne]] has been ahjy assisted by Mr- Bertarc DTtnnnel]
it prcuDiir.j; ihr iiudy of Jrish mosic to the pnple of Kcw Mark it Tin- v^ri-
vbt ycho:Ai and ha^ls that are in co-opera^^cn siih tbe Boaic k Hcuiaiiim-
£etkdt^ '-he charm oi hf r rich contralia sirfing Toice* she is tptt succb^stuT oi
hD:d:irg the iQiere^; of ihf audiCTice vhijc efpLamiTig tbe huionial in::uirnix
abaciciaied rjib ibe oripn of the ieadin^ Irish icelodvs,
• ■• •
A recent notice coniains these m-ords of prai»;
The btF-i pajiSages in Profcs&Dr W. P. Treni's Crealntsi :a ^irf*aOrrt^
skc' C'.'^rr J2s..avi Cr^"T']!j are Lhpsc iha; deal "jth itadi'.T.^. JTaiessoT
l:ri.: Li.- rr^c. rfjuib ar^c ]ecT;,TC-<i Ui'jth aTjG takcL much pa^nt -.t wcil. i ins
pf-^ui.L' LLLi.: oi HiDii^h-. -E h * readirgs and Irclures. ot ptihept 1; H'Ctc
mtt-t i-?.iiv: '.{• fcfli its ba« tl&b£»rirrfl td cprrpifie a ti^ticm oi measuring thrnpt
tiiH'- lit !s i-'-j/i " d.^:itr,se »Mh h:t pfri.onaJ views. He is wbt: wt nui' ue
pwn.'t'.?:^ "j.^ 'jt.' a TiTt-fTr.iiif r.lli jfl'> cnlic.
111! rtiiirrf o: nit. w-r;-.:r£&. ibf audjtnce ai his kciuiei are it nr rrr-]a:
tidiif-- [p- fft T f »T;Ht g The t.pmhont he pLbiishes areihe acctjr.f^ nDininnt
vi vt^' fdDL mEE vii[. j^pc»Lf belciTF him. and we doubi u' hr haE uiicr snai^er
wunot'- i.rt.: mi-k.tf elitt tba: he h^d tKreliFCi BUibontf :c< bact hiir.. iintes<
iiid^L :i- sucL ifri ptneri. itrmt ths: nc^ one vonld dream aS afspu'-iTjj vnai
Lt sdiL. Ht d[>tj- iid: ;tr£ -[■ i:nc himse]: a^a;nfii Uir woiid. nr Tatae' ne
coljL tiir wt:], 11, ar? t.-rr.^E:.' .n *.ucii an L^ncotnioriabpt posiiioii. -^iithnEin
1^ vna- rit s'-iirrif- ;:■:. atiL i.Ly.i,:r j ronfiic^irp wi:b auihontt mtnirestii oe-
prtiat: him ^iit iTi^K'^ i..n. ... i.'. ea^i Inabi]::^ :c rEcngnisr th: 11^:1 ; 0:
priif i. in.irfs 1^ (!►' id.m n niDi.: tr[ii.S:Csomt t",iif (n' itL^itd, ' 'W'c FiLher
s-.LlV. 01.- :iioLf r:s ' n: sivs. '^-t pTt:tiic Tf adiTi.re wha-. we an nn;, wiiiih
1; i:ii!;tii'''.i.f fopvc: :uir,i.--' in: ri,i-V r.v-pDcri=i. or tjsc, as l^ETrbtrr finsncer
d(L II [[■! y.iiitN'ti-f'ai'i'x v'l nro-»a;iE. nu: disafreemen: wuh liic wotI£!'= »*»'
[lie:- ^Lit. 'iir :n: Ti^L u: :i:j.Ef tnpert-L a; ot caii?d stupid.'' Frnm hnicri
3 rini'.-,Mr Trtr.: :;(iiic.uDti. " :i-a: v- ,s- a ina:itr □] somr impOTUiux- ii ve
I9O60 The Columbian Reading Unioih. 863
caie for literature at all, for us who study or read books lo piil our individual
■candards ai far as possibly in accord with the collfclive Alandaids." In fihoit
he is all for " culture," for learning 'Mo know and agree «]ih the best thai
has been thought and said in the world about literature."
Now this is an eminently proper attitude for one whose business is (o
deal iu literature aa an ornament. It is quite li^hi, ptesuming out oidinaiy
mode of education to be right, for a professor to rid himself of particular
tastes and decorate his pupils in the customary and approved fa&hion. A
iashionable tailor is not ai liberty to do what be will with his cuiiomers; his
business it to be informed of what ihc world of fashion has decided to be the
correct thing \ and so, as we conceive it, the businees of the schoolmaster is
not to assert hij personal convictioDS, if by some singular accident he happen
to have any, but to supply a decenlf respectable covering of culture that will
pass muster in the best literary society. Now, Professor Trent knows exactly
how to dispense taste in a manner unoslentatiuns, conservative, and perfectly
aane. As he truly observes, the estptession of original opinion "leads to
chaos in matters of taste," and so, being an advpcale of order above all things
else, he is extremely careful to guard against expression of any kind, except
when he has an opportunity of rehashing old verdicts, as in his wholly indis-
putable praise of Homer.
It Mill be readily understood, however, that a teacher of this kind is
more interesting to readers out of school when he happens to be dealing with
his hobby of teaching than when he wanders into the open. It is enlremely in-
structive to fallow the workings of such a mind, to hear his views of the best
manner of pasting literary learning on the uncultured^ and to consider his
pTOpoGals of reform. M* C. M*
BOOKS RECEIVED.
'^l:
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