-". liBRARY ST. MARY- lULLt\11: - M-e4 :JØ . aL L . J/. / rPC. , "- \ --' '\ BISHOP ULLATHORNE. (F .n a P;."'t raph by H. T. ""H . J ..,:oK, P.irmin 1 .. he Q)øcotiat1. 'Z-lJ 2 · () lf 1., UtLfcf i' I I I I I I I ÎII I!! BISHOP ULLATHORNE: o CLqe Story of qi5 (ife; SELECTED LETTERS, WITH FACSIMiLE; 4 PORTRAITS OF HIS LORDSHIP; VIE\VS OF COVENTRY CI-IURCH & OSCOTT COLLEGE. --1-1-ß-3-1-7 LONDON: BURXS & OATES, 28, ORCHARD ST., \V., &. 63, PATERNOSTER Row, E.C. EW YORK: 9, BA.RCLAY STREET. LIBRARY ST. MARY'S COLLEGE HALL Al'ID ENGLISH, Printers, Lithograpuers, etc. etc., High Street, Birmiug-ham. TO THE RIGHT REV. ,V lLLIA l ß HNAl{D ULLA'rliOHN E, D.O., O.D.B., BISHOP OF DIRMINGHA)r, ASSISTANT A'r THE PONTIFICAL THRONE, IN TOKEN OF DEEP AND AFFECTIOXATE RBVERENCE O THE FORTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF HIS EPISCOPAL CONSECRATION, JUNE 21sT, 1880. C(![hc @ßtoíictn: A itcrary Oll studying for the Church at Down:side, pres ed a younger son of lr. Ullathorne'::; to embrace the same vocation. The invitation, ho,vever, met ,vith no response; ,vhercupoll the elder brother made kno" n to his parent:s the full cxtent of the chaug'e that had been ,vrought in him, and to his great delight it ,vas soon arranged with Dr. Barber, the Prior of Do,vnside, that 'Villiam should go to that bchool. He ,vent ill the beginning of February, 1823, not .et having cOlllpletctl hi SCVClltccllth 'car. 8 rrhere wero only twenty boys III tho school; probably there wore none of these ,vhose education-in it more vul- gar sellse-'va nlore backward th311 'Villiam Ullathorne's, certainly none ,vhose ulind on the other hand was 11101'0 fully doveloped. In him what filton calls " the second eùucation" of a man had preceded the first. He 110'V set himself to ,york to supply the deficiency, and his natural abilities enabled him to push his ,yay ,vith wonderful rapidity to the top of his class, and indeed of the school; for at each successive examination, ,vhich ,vas bi-monthly, he ,vas transferred to a higher class. No doubt this ,vas done too rapidly, as he himself has on more than one occasion publicly acknowledged. But if the intellectual and classical part of his education ,vas too hurried, and therefore superficial, the same cannot be said of hi religious and spiritual training. This was deep and solid, as became the nature ,vhich ,vas to receive it. He ,vas greatly moved from the fir::;t by the good feeling and piety ,vhich prevailed among tho students, and the kindly relations ,vhich existed between them and their master::;. The ,vhole tone of things ,vas in striking con- trast to everything of ,vhich he had yet had experience, and it introduced him to a new world. Ir. Polding, after\vards Archbishop of Sydney, ,vas Prefect of the school and alðo the Spiritual Director. Ho at once began to prepare the ne,v pupil for his first communion, ,vhich in consequence of the absence of a resident priest at Scarborough, and his o\vn sailor life, he had not yet made. The preparation ,va long and thorough, and the first communion ,vas delayed until tho follo,ving Christmas night. It is not for us to lift the veil of secrecy that shrouds the soul in its communion ,vith God: "'0 can only record external fact::;. 'l\vclve daYð later, )Villialll Ullathorllo ,vas admitted a a IJustulant to f) the Benedictine Order. rrhis however did not remove him at once from the school. It only obliged him to rise at fivo o'clock insteaù of ix, in order that he might attend .ßIatins and Lands find )'Ieditation ,vith the )fonks ill the choir. On the 12th of larch, 1824, he received the h3.bit, together ,yith four other students, and at the san1C time Fr. Polding gave up the Prefectship and became the N ovice- rastcr. Besides the usual course of Religious training and exercises common to all novitiates, the you.ng novice devoted hinlself ,vith the utmost ardour to the study of all the books that came ,vithin his reach. Indeed we have heard hilll speak with some self-reproach for having exceeùed the limits of prudence and religious discipline in this matter. He luade his solenln Profession on the 5th of .A pril, 182:>, taking the name of Bernard. Early in the year 1828, he cornnlenced his course of theology under a man of singular ability, ,vho taught not only ,vith method alid after solid preparation, but also with considerable accumulation of ,,"ell-digested knowledge. This was Dr. Brown, afterwards the well-kno\vn Bishop of Newport and 1Ienevia, of \vhom Dr. Ullathorne is used to say, that he is the only person from ,vhose living voice he ever learned much. Early in October of the same year, he received Confirmation from Bishop (afterwards Cardinal) "r cld, and on the 12th of the same month \vas promoted to the Sub-diaconate. In consequence of the unhappy differences ,vhich had arisen bet\veen Bishop Baines at Prior Park, and the Benedictines at Downside, his promotion to the Diaconatf\ 'vas postponed till the Em bel' Day in Septf\m ber, 1830. Soon after- ,yards he \vas sent with another of his order to as ist the new' Prior of Ampleforth in restoring that monastery Hnd college, after the grea.t loss it hall suffered from the defection of those ,vho had joined Dr. Baines. .c , 10 He was appointed Prefect in his new home, and as there ,vere many of the boys \vhose affections clung to the old régime, he had not at first a very easy task. His firmness however, in ruling, was soon made manifest, and wrought its salutary effect. On Ember Saturday, in Septembel-, 183], he received the priesthoood from Bishop Pens\vick at U shaw, and at once began his first 11lissionary work. He was sent on Sundays to preach and perform the usual duties at Craik and Easingwold. But before long, he ,vas recalled to his o,vn lllonastery where he began to teach in the school. About the same time Fr. Polding received a brief appointing him Visitor-Apostolic of the Mauritius, where his uncle Dr. Slater ,vas Bishop. He however, declined the appointment, and Dr. :rvlorris ,vas put in his place. The Vicariate of the 1\fauritius at that time extended far beyond the limits of the island. It embraced all Southern Africa, Australia, and the islands of the Pacific, including N e\v Zealand, and even a considerable part of British India. Dr. 1Iorris was an old member of the Do,vnside community, ånd naturally wished for co-operators from the house of his profession. In reply to his application he ,vas told by the Superiors that if Fr. Bernard were asked, he would probably be not unwilling to go. The reason for this suggestion seems to have been that in a conversation ,vith his novice-master many years before, he had expressed his sympathy\vith the sufferings of the convicts in Australia, and stated that he should be reaùy to devote himself to their service if summoned to such a ,york by his Superiors. Dr. :110rris also, knowing his taste for foreign travel, had tried to interest him in the Iission of the Mauritius, but had been told in reply that there \vere about a hundred reasons against going to that island, and nearly as many for going to Australia. After consultation with his 11 Superiors, .Fr. Ullathorne ,vrotc to the President General of the Order for leave to offer himself for the Australian :Thlission, which ,vas at once granted. Ecclesiastical affairs in Australia ,yere then in a very uncomfortable position, ana Sir Richard Rourke, the Governor, had askeù the llome Government to lnake SOlllC arrangements whereby a Catholic Ecclesiastic might be ent out invested with competent authority to settle the lnatters in dispute. Dr. forris, therefore, proposed to lllake Fr. Ullathorne his Vicar-General for that part of hi Dioce:se. He must have alreaùy displayed at Ampleforth and Downside unusual proficiency in the difficult art of government, or Bi:5hop ß,lorris \vould never have dreamt of conferring so responsible an appointment on so young a priest. Fr. Ullathorne, alarmed at the proposal, had recourse to his usual fentor; and acting on Dr. Polding's advice, did not refuse the offer. liis early sea-faring life enabled him to turn the long voyage to a good account ill the way of study, ,vhich ,vas specially directed to the subject of ecclesiasticalla,v in general, and the authority and jurisdiction of Vicars-General in particu1ar. rrhere wou1d be four thousand miles hebveen hÍ1n and his immediate Superior, Bishop forris; the breadth of the \vorld between hin1 and the Holy See; and no Ecclesiastical Superior of any kind close at hand: so that he felt that he ,vould have to act as if the whole authority of the Church ,vere cOllcentrated in his o""n person, and to rely exclusively on his own resources. :Fr. Ullathorne had made it a point of policy not to send any notice to Sydney of his approach. On his arrival, he went straight to the priests' residence, ,vhere he found Fr. l\IcEncroe, a grave man of considerable experience, ,vho had formerly been Vicar-General of Bishop England in South Carolina. Fr. Therry, the senior priest, ,vas ab:-:,cllt at l'ara.lllatta, ::;umc fiftecn illiles of!: "" 12 Fr. Thcrry had COllle with Fr. Conolly in 1820, being sent out by the English Government after 1\11'. Hutchinson had brought before Parliament the disgraceful conduct of the N e\v South \Vales Governlllent in expelling the Arch-priest, Father Flyn n, in 1818. \Ve must mention in passing a touching incident connected with this period in the history of the colony. :Fr. Flynn, during his short stay in Sydney, used to say Iass in the cottage of one 'Villiam Davies, "\vho had been transported for his share in the insurrection of 1796. He ,vas a most devout Catholic, and in the rough early times, when there ,vere no priests in the colony, had been repeatedly flogged, put in the black hole, and otherwise punished for refusing to attend the Protestant service. \Vhen Fr. Flynn ,vas un,varrantably seized, cast into gaol, and sent. home, he left the Blessed Sacrament in Davies' cottage, and there It remained for two years .with no priest nearer tllan the Isle of lauritius. The Catholics used to assemble in the house for their prayers, and Davies, with nloro than the Ark of the Covenant under his roof, .was blessed and prospered like Obed- Edom. lIe began to gather ,vpalth, and in course of time gave his house and garden as a site for a new church, and placed a thousand pounds on the foundation stone ,vhen it was laid. But ,ve are digressing from our story, and must return to Fathers Conolly and 'rherry. They arrived in Sydney in 1820. Soon, however, they disagreed, and Fr. Conolly proceeded to Van Diemen's Land, where he remained ,vithout ever having the opportunity of seeing a brother priest tiH Fr. Ullathorlle landed and made a short stay there on his ,yay to Sydney. 1<-'1'. 'fherry was a very prominent figure not only in tho ecclesiastical, but also in the political ,vorld of the colony j and it ,vas expected that difficulties ,vould arise on the a.rrival of an ecclesiastic, 13 illve ted ,vith highcr authority than his OW11. IIowever, 011 his return froln Paramátta, Fr. Ullathorne produccd tho docurtlcnt constituting hilli \Ticar-General, aud Fr. Thcrry immediately went on his knees in token of obedience. A characteristic story is told of the fir;:;t conver ation bebveen the old and ne,v authoritie . Fr. 'fherry began, "Sir, there are t\VO parties among u:;J and I ,vish to put you in possession of my ideas on the subject." "No," replied the new Vicar, "excuse me, there are not two parties." Fr. 'fherry replied ,vith some ,varmth, "",rhat can you kno\v about it ? You are only just arrived and have had no experience." " Excuse lue again," replied the Vicar, "there ,vere two p:lrties yesterday, but there are nOlle to-l1ay. They arose from the unfortunate ,vant of any person armed with full cccle::3iastical authority. That is 1l0'V at an end. For the prescnt ill N e\v South "Tales, I alone am posses ed of cccl0siastical jurisdiction. Those ,,,ho gather not with me, scatter. So no,v there is an end of parties." The next day the ne,v comer paid hi respects to the Goyernor in his country hou::;e at Paramatta, ,,-here he had recently lo t his ,vife, and was himself then COll- fined to his bed by ilIlless. But so anxious ,vas he to have the Catholic matter::3 of the colony peacefully settleJ, that he gave his visitor an audience in his bedroom. Sir Richard Bourke ,vas 1l0t a Catholic himself, but haJ many Catholic relatives alid friends, alid had a sincere respect for the Catholic religion. They entered UpOll business at once, and scemed to understand each other from the first. But the \Tic r prudently declined. ex- pre ing auy opinion upon the matters subll1Îtted to hilll till he had haù tinle to consider thern. "Tith the sarno prudcnce, 011 the following Sunùay, ho aunounced from the altar in yùncy the powcr with ,vhich he ,vas in- 14 vested, and added that he suspended for a. fortnight every- thiug that was iu cour e of proceeLliug, until he had maJe the necessary enquiries, ,vhen he would call a public lneeting. Ou the day of the meeting, he preached after ma88 an earnest sermon on the blessiug of U llity; took the chair himself, on hi::; owu motion; and at Ollce opened the ball by sa.ying that he had not called them together to talk, but to vote; that as to the past, the SOODer they forgot it the better. " Let all the congregation," he said, "except the servaut8 of the Cro,vn (an euphelllism for convicts) put into the ,""oting-box the names of three la.y- men, whom they ,vould ,,'ish to see united with the three priests (Fr. Therry, Fr. :1IcEncroe and himself) as Trustees for all moneys and all business connected ,vith the Church." 'rhis ,vas at once done, and peace thereby re-e tablished in the troubled community. .As soon as he had tinIe to turn round, the Vicar began the same missionarr life as his companions 'v ere already familiar \vith. Their usual mode of travelling ,vas Oil hor::5e- back, accolllpanied by a servant lllall on another h01'::;e carrying the vestments, altar stone, &c. The priest himself ahvays carried the Blessed Sacrament ill the breast pocket of his coat, not knowing when he might come upon the sick and dying, a practice lately prohibited by the Holy See. On one occasion 1 he 'Tical' lost the holy oil-stocks through their wearing a hole in his pocket. This happened 011 the desolate Blue lountain8, 111any miles from any habi- tation, but strange to say, a French woman happening to pass that ,yay, picked them up, and at once concluding it ,vas something' belonging to a priest, found means of restoring them. In most places, the police courts served for chapels, but at times a public room over tho stables of some hotel had to serve the purpose; and it happened more than once that the Vicar had tu preach against 15 drunkenness in places devoted to drinking-. 'Vherever thp missionaries went, the Catholic innkeepers never failed to entertain both them and their horses free of expense. 'Vhen they reached a to,vnship, they used to ride round, visiting all the farms in the neighbourhood, caning also at the Protestant houses, to ask leave for thp Catholic convict-servants to come to mass and the sacraments; also looking after any sick who might require attention. Then came the day for mass, which \vas occnpied from morning till night ,vith people coming and going. Sometimes a second day was required for com- munions, and all this amid intense heat and many other . . grave InconvenIences. Even at Sydney itself" there was ,york enough for more clergy than the colony contained. Besides the usual flock, there was a large gaol in which convicts ,vere put on fir:::;t landing, and to 'which others ,vere sent from all parts of the colony for extra punishment. There was the felons' gaol, where about forty executions took place in the year; a large chain-gang to be looked after on an island in Sydney Cove; a great convict hospital in Sydney, another at Paramatta, and another at Liverpool, 20 miles off. Another field of occupation ,vas the examining and signing the papers of the large convict population, for no one of that class could obtain either his ticket-of-leave, or free pardon, or leave to marry, or any other privilege, unless the document had first been examined and signed by the clergy, ,,,ho (it must be remembered) were paid governnlent officials. It is not to be wondered at then that one of the first objects of the Vicar's solicitude ,vas to obtain more priests for New South 'Vales, and also to get things put on a better footing in Van Diemeu"s land. He wrote to Bishop Iorris by one of the rare ships that lû sailed from Sydney to the Iauritius; and after a long time received an encouraging ans,ver, but nothing really practical came of it. ..A..t the same time, he had occasion to ask for two dispensations in matrimonial cases ,vhich exceeded his delegated faculties. He ,vas told in reply that they should be attended to in a subsequent letter, ,vhich, however, never reached him. We mention these circumstances, as it ,vas precisely such things as these that led hilll to recognise the fact that the ne,v colony needeù somet11il1g more than a few additional priests. It mani- festly needed a Bishop of its own. Feeling the weight of his responsibility, he wrote to his old Novice-master at Downside, a letter which set the English Benedictines on the stir, led to communications ,vith Rome, and finally to Dr. Poldillg's appointment as the first Bishop of Sydney. Ieanwhile, Fr. Ullathorne began, ,vith the aid of government, to build a new chapel- school in the most populous part of Sydney} a church and schools at Paramatta, a church at faitland, and another at Campbelltown, but there were no clergy to reside at any of these places. The Vicar used often to officiate at "\Vindsor, Paralllatta, and Sydney on the same day. lIe would be driven to vVindsor (a distance of 35 miles) every Saturday evening, and there put up at a Protestant tavern. '].1he next morning he said mass at six, and preached in a chapel that had been a barn. He also attended the convict hospital. He thl}ll drove to Paramatta, a distance of t,ven ty miles, 'v here he said mass in a long dark room with a couple of ,vooden shutters for 'Villdows, built over the prison of a chain- gang. Having breakfasted here at an hotel, he visited the convict and nÚlitary hospitals, at some distance frolll each other) and then drove the fifteen miles to Sydney to preach at the evening service. It hardly needs telling 17 that this excessive labour was usually follo\ved by many hours of prostration on the Ionday, for which he found the greatest relief in light reading and rest. The duty of attending at executions usually fell to the lot of Fr. lcEncroe. But when a judicial commission \vas sent to Norfolk Island for the purpose of trying a nUlnber of criminals, ,vho had been engaged in rebellion against the troops and an attempt to get possession of the island, the Governor begged Fr. Ullathorne to accompany the commission, as many of the guilty men 'were Catholics. As the Government brig in \vhich they sailed \vas pinched for 1'OO1"ll, the Protestant clergyman had to share the same cabin with the CathoJic vicar. '''" e forget whether it was on this occasion or another of the same kind that the Protestant clergJman, who was young and extremely nervous, confided to his Catholic companion that he felt this to be a very humiliating duty, and that had he known he should be subject to such, he never \vouid have taken Holy Orders. 'Ve shall take our account of the Vicar's Vi3it to Norfolk Island from his pamphlet already spoken of, th e Catholic Miss ion i_ Australasia, and \ve have no scruple in doing - so, as ,ve suspect very few of our readers have had the opportunity of reading those fascinating pages. vVe begin by quoting in extenso the description of the place. "Norfolk Island is about 1,000 miles from Sydney. It is small, only about t\venty-ol1e miles in circumference, of volcanic origin, and one of the most beautiful spots in the universe. Rising abruptly on all sides but one from the sea, clustering columns of basalt spring out of the ,vater, securing, at intervals, its endurance wÍGh the strong architecture of God. That one side presents a low, sandy, level on \vhich is placed that penal settlement, which is the horror of men. It is approachable only by boats, c 18 through a llarrOlV bar in the reef of coral, ,vhich, visible here, invisibly encircles the island. Except the ulilitary guard, and the various officers and servants of Govern- ment, none but the prisoners are permitted to reside on the island, nor, unless in case of great emergency, can any ship but those of Government, sho,ving the secret signals, be permitted to approach. The land consists of a series of hills and valleys, curiously interfolded, the green ridges rising above one another, until they reach the shaggy sides and crowning summit of 1fount Pitt, at the height of 3,000 feet above the level of the sea. '1'he establishment consists of a spacious quadrangle of build- ings for the prisoners, the military barracks, and a series of offices in two ranges. A little further beyond, on a green mound of nature's beautiful making, rises the mansion of the commandant, ,vith its barred ,vindo,vs, defensive cannon, and pacing sentry. Straying some distance along a foot-path, ,ve come upon the Cemetery, closed in on three sides by close, thick, melancholy groves of the tear-dropping manchineel, ,vhilst the fourth is open to the restless sea. '1'he grave are numerous and recent -lllO t of the tenants having reached by an untimely end the abode to which they now contribute their hapless remains, and haple::;s story. I have myself ,vitnesscd fifteen descents into those houses of mortality-and in everyone lies a hand of blood. Their lives were brief, and as agitated and restless as the ,vaves which now break at their feet, and ,,,hose dying sound is their only reqtuem. "Passing on by a ledge cut in the cliff that hangs over the resounding shore, ,ve suddenly turn into an amphi- theatre of hills, 'which rise all round, until they close in a circle of the blue heavens above-their sides being thickly clothed with curious wild shrubs 1 ,vild flowers 1 and wild 19 grapery. Passing the hasty brook, and long ancl slowly ascending, ,ve aga.in reach the open varied ground. 11e1'e a trec-crested mound, there a plantation of pines: and yonder Lelo\v, a ravine descending into tho very bo,vel of the earth, ana coverpa ,vith an intricacy of llark folia.ge, interhuninatcd ,,'ith chccker of sunlight, until it opens n receding vista to the LIne ea,. A.uclno,v the path closes, so that tho sun is almost shut out; ,vhilst giant ereopcr shoot, twist, and contort thelll clvcs upon your path; beautiful pigeons, lories, parrots, parroquets, and other birds, rich and varied in plumage, spring up at your approach. 'Ve no,v reach a valley of exquisite beauty, in the middle of ,vhich, ,vhere the ,vindiug, gurgling streaIll is jagged in its course, spring up} the type of loneliness, a cluster of some eight fern trees, the finest of their kinll, ,vhich, ,vith different inclinations, rise up to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, a clear, black, 11l0SSY stem, from the cro\vn of ,vhich is shot out on every side one long arching fern leaf, the ,vhole suggesting the idea of a clump of Chinese umbrellas. Ascending again, through the dark forest, ,ve find, rising on every side, amongst other strange forest trees, the gigantic pine of Norfolk Island, 'vhich, ascending a clean steIn of vast circumference to some t,velve feet, shoots out a coronal of da.rk boughs) each in shape like the feathers of the ostrich, indefinablyprolongeJ, until rising, with clear interval , horizontal stage above stage, the great pyramid cuts with its point the blue ether, at the height of 200 feet. 'l'hrough theso we at length reach the crown of 1\Iount Pitt, ,vhence the tout ensemlde in so small a space is indescribable, of rock, forest, valley, cornfield, islets, sea birds, land birds, sunshine and sea.. Descending ,ve take a nc\V path to find ne\v varieties. Elucrging after a ,vhile from the deep gloom of the forest, glade:; and opening::; lie on eauh hand, where, among llltt:1Y 20 plants and trees, th guava and len10n prevail. The fern tree springs gracefully out, and is outstripped by the beautiful palmetto raising' its light shaft of orient mould' from above the verdant level, and, at the height of twenty- five feet, spreading abroad in the clear air a cluster of bright green fans. In other places the parasite creepers and climbprs rise up in columns, shoot over arch after arch, and again descend in every variety of Gothic fantasy. No\v they form a long high w'all, ,vhich is dense and im- penetrable, and next comes tUlubling down a cascade of green leaves, frothed over ,vith the delicate ,vhite con- volvulus. Our ,yay at length becomes an interminable, closed-in vista of lemon trees, forming overhead a varied arcade of green, gold, and sunlight. The orange once crowded the island as thickly, but were cut down by the \vanton tyranny of a former commandant, as being too ready, and too great a luxury for the convict. Stray over the farms, the yello,v hulm bends \vith the fat of corD. Enter the gardens, especially that delicious retreat, , Orange Vale,' there, by the broad breasted English oak grows the delicate cinnamon tree-the tea, the coffee, tIle sugar plant, the nutritious arro,vroot, tl1e banana, ,vith its long ,veeping streamers and creamy fruit, the fig, all tropical fruits in perfection, and the English vegetables in gigantic gl'o,vth. rfhe air is most pure, the sky most brilliant. III the Jllornil1g the \vhole is drenched ,vith de,v. As the sun comes out of hi bed of amber, and snoots over a bar of crimson rays, it is oue embroidery of the pearl, the ruby, the eU1erald; as the same sun at mellow eventide aslallts his yello,v rays betw'een the pines and the lllountail1, they sho,v like the bronzed spires of some vast cathedral, flooded in golden lIght." After reading this vivid description of an earthly Paradise, it is painful and harrowing indeed to learn fro1l1 1 the c:ame ,vriter ,vhat a mora] h('JI had been created by the dppravity of nlan, amid uch beauriful surroundings. This i land had been splected as the place of punishlnent for nlen ,,,ho had conHnitted fresh crirnes, after having been already transported to New South 'Vales for crÏtues romlllitted in England or Ireland. Probably the majority of tJlen1 had received, at one time or other, sentence of death. 'rhey ,v('re a desperate body of men, made 1110re desperate through their isolation frOlTI the outer ,vorhl, fronl being deprived of all access to stimulants, from the privation of hope, and fronl the habitual prospect of the enclosing sea an round their settlement, and the conscious.. l1ess that that sea extended for 1000 miles before it touched another hore. TIeligion was utterly excluded frotn these miserable men; ,,,hether it ,vas thought that they nlust needs be insensible to its motives, or ,vere utterly unworthy of its consolations, ,,"e do not know. 1tlen have been found to argue, even with reference to tbis very instance, that the bpanties of nature are powerful to correct the human heart; and here there "pas beauty "1ike the shadow of the countenance of the Creator, yet man nlone, made in His Ï1nage, renlained untouched by II is spirit, and wandered the denJoniac of the scene." But as Fr. Ullathorne points out, whil t the devout man will muse on the beauties of Creation until he kinille like a fire, perverse hearts never see fine days or beautiful prospects; their thoughts are ,vith society, there they find their sensual jO)1's, and there they ,,'illingly dwell; and so deep was the depravity of the e crirninals in Norfolk Island, that in their language eril ,vas litpral1y called good, and fJood, etil. The ".ell-disposeù man was branded n.iclæd, whibt the leader in monstrous vice ,vas stylcd virtuous. Their life 'was one of most ><. --i ').) ..J ..J intense Inisery; they \vorked in h(;avy irons and fed on alt lncat and maize brea-. . "{.'. .,.. ".'.:. ',. . ,': I '''' :'. J , :_.- \ "',;' -' ç \ k ' ;, t t J ..f. . " -:.. -r rOd ) ! I ; .J f ; r l '\ { :'" :[ :I' t ! I.'!) t ' ;l;iï'(,'i Il )f"w, 1 . j1 . \' "r'\ . fjl '" .l! J.j --' - -.. \\ j II I. '.I' H I 't: :.JC.:I -. F, ' " I - .. ... '-::I': .fI. I :... . - . -:' -' . t I ,I A'; ! -----;- ;; .., '" 'I".:,': . "-- - , .:: p li::-- [ ) ---'t · tt · I' '. ',\' W" r I' . , . ." l' L . . ' J. ;t\ " - .. . ,. .. - i . . t:\1 ; i: I '!" . ! I I . .. -.; -;;í . l. L _ !},t', . I !I - '" . ...... ....tc:.r .... -....... _____ ..... .);.. 4 ... _ \. r + r .. --=--'"' t -;t - =-fr--.., - ,'" ;v..( j;.. - ?'.:- .'!. _ _ __ . ".. \ .. _ ,.... '- ...;o.",_,,.c' "::':- :.. .. .f\.-'i .. . - :: . .,.. . '; ., (- ,... .... '\. t. \. . . ... '" I f '"" . ... .-' ........... "'\ . CHURCH OF THE MOST HOLY SAORAMENT AND ST. CSBURG, COVENTRY. ., .., .) , Refore beginning tl1( nc'v church he Inade a brier tour in Bc1giuln, proceeding as far as Cologne, in tbe cOlnpany of 'fro Charles Ha1tSOln, who then lived at. Coventry. rehc object of this tour was to e"\:amine some of the best pccÍlnens of mediæval art, and to get hints for his own building. The foundation of the Church of the 1f ost IToly Sacranleut and St. Osburg ,vas laid by the President- General of the Benedictines, on tho 29th of ra:y, 1813" and tlIp building was solemnly consecrated on September the Ðth, 1845, in the presence of eight Prelates, Bishop 'riselllan preaching the sermon. On this occasion, Dr. Ullathorne put on the Îull Benedictine habit, intending to ,veal' it always in the church and at home,-a circulllstallce which gave offence to sonle, as the practice had hitherto been unknow"n in this country. The habit ,vas not even worn in the oj ]3enec1ictine nlonasteries, and Dr. Ullathorne's only practical ac<]uaintance with it was during his visit to ROlne. Iris non1Ínation for Adelaide obliged him to make a second journey to RonlP, where hp succeeded in being allow'ed to decline it. But it was evident that he ,vas destined to be a bishop sooner or later. The 111itre seemed to be ever flying about his head. After his return Cardinal Franzoni wrote to hilll statino. o the intention of appointing a bishop for Perth, in Kew South 'Vales, offering the see to himself, but if he should not think ,veIl to accept it, asking his opinion of certain others 'who had bpcll proposed. On the deat]1 of Bi hop Baines, Vicar- \.postolic of the \ estern District, in July, 18 L 13, there 'was Rome idea of remo,.ing Bishop Brown frolll the 'Velsh to the 'V c terll District, and appointing Dr. Dl1athornc as successor to Dr. TIro,vn. Ho,vcver , Igr. Baggs, Rector of the Engli h College in Rome, was -x 38 appointed to the \Vestern District by Gregory XVI., and 'Dr. Bro"\vn remained in 'Vales. The vicariate of Dr. Baggs ,vas not of long duration. fIe died in October, 1845, a month after the opening of the church at Coventry. Rumours were again soon afloat that Dr. Ullathorne ,vould be named either for the Western Or the Welsh District, and after a delay of some months, a letter from Cardinal Acton announced that he had real1y been nominated to the former. The Cardinal pressed him not again to refuse the offer of a bishopric, reminding him that the episcopate in these days, and especially in England, was more of a burden than an honour. On receipt of this letter, Dr. Ullathorn'e went by the next train to the Benedictine Convent of Stanbrook, to lay the ll1atter before Dr. Barber, President-General of the Order. Dr. Barber represented to him the unsettled state of the \Vestern Vicariate, the lnany and serious evils that had resulted froln it, and expressed his conviction that Dr. Ullathorne was just the luan to cope with the difficulties of the situation. Dr. Ullathorne declared that nothing but an obedience would induce him to accept; to which Dr. Barber replied that as far as his faculties extended he gave him that obedience. A letter therefore was written to Cardinal Acton signifying acceptance of the appointment, and the bishop-elect proceeded to Ratcliffe College to prepare for consecration under tþe direction of Dr. Pagani. His consecration as Bishop of Hetalona took place at Coventry, on Sunday, the 21st of June, 1846, the day on which Pius IX. was crowned as Sovereign Pontiff. A 11 the Bishops in England attended, Bishop Briggs being the consecrating Bishop, with Bishops Griffiths and \Vareing as assistants, and Bishop Wiseman preaching the sermon. Dr. NO\Vlllall and his c0111paniolls, then recent converts to 3D the Churcll, ,vere among tho e whu .were present at the ceremony. IIis devoted flock presented him ,vith a beautiful chalice, accompanied with the following adùress ;- " To the RIGHT HEV. Dn. ULLATITORNE, Bishop Elect of the Western District. " l\fy Lord.- 'V e beg most respectfully to approach you before your departure from amongst us, and, as affectionate children, to present to you a small proof of our gratitude. From the Inoment the sad news reached us of your removal from this mission, our feelings have been those only of grief and sorrow, for we are too well impressed with a sense of the many blessings we individually and collectively have received frollI you not to know that your loss will be the greatest that wo, as a. congregation, have ever experienced. But five years ago, when you came to us as our pastor, you found the place in which we then assembled to worship our Lord, a mere barn, in a dilapidated and even dangerous condition; and now, through your unwearied exertions, we have the happiness of assenlbling in a spacious and canonica1Jy arranged church, more befitting the tremendous n1ysteries daily celebrated therein. To you also, my dear Lord, we are indebted for the bleflsing of having established amongst us a holy Sisterhood, to whose ministrations of mercy and love there are none of us who cannot bear ample testimony. " 'Vhen we look back through the few years of your sacred ministry amongst us, we are overwhe]med with the conscious. ness that anything we could now present to you must fall far short of our measure of gratitude, for the many blessings we have received at your hands; for who is there who has not ever found in you a wi e and prudent ('ounsellor, an indulgent and kind father? who in trouble and afRiction has not experienced your consolation? or who in doubts, perplexities, and trials has not felt the benefit of your fatherly counsel ? Alid, therefore, wo feel that tho mmnorial we are about to present to you would be most unworthy of us, were it not accompanied and .to entwined with our best feelings of affection and gratitude, and with our earnest prayers for your temporal and eternal happiness We have, therefore, chosen for presentation to your lordship this chalice and cruets, for we thought we could not select a tol{en Inore befitting our own feelings, or ll10re appropriate to your high and acred office in the Church thnn vessels to be consecrated for the acceptable sacrifice. " We presume not to attach to our offering any conditlon, but we may be indulged in the expression of a wish that they D1ay be devoted to your Lordship's daily nse, and that at those sacred times they may secure to us an affectionate remem- brance in your prayers. In the midst of this our trial, we have experienced one great consolation frOln the fact of your having been appointed to govern a portion of the holy Church in this country, which affords a hope that you will have many opportunities of coming amongst us, which we could never have indulged had you been removed (as we have frequently feared) to a distant part of the globe. " We rejoice, Iny Lord, that your great talents and virtues have not gone unrewarded even in this world, as we look upon your appointment to the office and work of a Bishop in the Church as a proof that your services to religion h3ve been felt and appreciated by the venerable and Holy Father, who, at this time, o watchfully gO\Terns the Church. Tn conclusion, we beg to assure you that our poor prayer shall not be wanting in supplicating for you from the Father of Lights those graces and blessings necessary for you in this your most difficult undertaking. And that, as He has imposed upon you this great work, he would in his infinite mercy, give you strength equal to the burden." The exact text of his Lordship's ans,ver cannot now be recovered. The newspapers of the day only gave the substance of it. Some passages, however, are too char- acteristic not to have been a faithful echo of what was really said; and they seem to us ,vorth preserving. " ly dear and beloved friends," he is reported to have said, 41 "you have not often cOluplained of IllY silence, but at thi mOU.lont I kno\v not ,vhat to say. \Vhoa I ,vas told tha.t ,vith your kind heart:, you werp going to wait upou Ille in this ,vay, I felt an eUlotion a..; if it ,vere going to be a. trial. '''heu our feeling gro,v too big, they ,vill neither be guided nor controlled. I really know not wha.t I am going to say, except that I aTn very grateful to you for all your kinùuesse::;. \Ve must all fulfil the ,vill of Almighty God, and thou, after a little while, we shall be for ever together. --'our years aud a half I have been ,vith you, and you have ahvays been like mild sheep under the shepherd. Divisions ,vore unkno,vn anlongSti us. Yon have been, as I have often told others, but never told you, like children of one family, happy and united round one COIilmon father . You speak of labours, but not of the ma.nner in which you have lightened theln. A. labour oflovÐ is, a:::, yon kno,v, no labour but a joy. It is when labours are Iningled ,vith al1xiet.ie and afflictions that they are grea.t; and you never gave lue any grievous auxiety or any heavy burden of afRiction. \Vith heart and hand you have co-operated wit.h me by the most generous sacrifices; you have loved the beauty of God's House, and have loved to adorn it ,vith ,vhatevcr you had. The faith, the fervour, the devotion of lllany atllong:5t you, your fidelity and persever- ance through trials and afflictions, have of ton been a reproach and a salutary reproof to Iny o,vn soul in its hourB of sluggishne:ss, though I never told you this until no,v. ..lnd how n1any of you have supported and consoled each other in the day of poverty, of sickness, or of distress. .l\.nd now', if we are to part for a time, it is in obedience to the ,vill of our IIea\Tollly Father, who loves us, and dispose::; of us for our gooù in all things. Part, did I saY?7 0ur soul are of so gren t a nature, that a hundred miles of mere earth cannot part then1 ,vhen they love each other. F t.:! Our spirits ,villllot part, and our prayers for each other ,vill be united together before they enter heaven. Ho,v ,veIl is this sublime truth expressed, my dear and beloved friends, in this beautiful and costly gift which your kind hearts so generously offer me. I am indeed more pleased and grateful for the delicate consideration which you have sho,vn in choosing this offering than in the gift itself, ho\vever valuable. For this chalice, ,vith its appropriate and complete accompaniments, of design and \vorkman- ship so beautiful that the ,york excels even the value of the materials, is destined for the everlasting sacrifice, by the receiving of ,vhich we are all made one and are empowered by the great love of Christ to love one another. You have accompanied the gift with this one request that I ,vould use it as often as possible, and I cannot better gratify you than by saying that it is my intention to use this chalice daily in my o\vn private chapel, so that when I raise it up day by day, at the moment even of the tremendous mysteries, the memory of your charity and edification, ,vhich is a ,york of grace, all your good feelings, may, as it ,vere, gather round the beautiful stem and twine amongst its golden and enamelled flo,vers. 'fhe sacred name of Jesus is ,vrought in letters around this knop, as it were to clasp them together in one holy bond; and His sacred and adorable Presence will be within. Your prayers will continue for me to sustain and give wings to my own unworthy prayers, and mine \vill invoke a blessing upon you; and God ,vill be around us, and the Blood of God will feed us; that same Blood, through diverse ministrations, will give the same life of love to us all, such is the happy privilege of the Communion of Saints. St. Paul never considered himself absent, ho\vever far in the body apart, from even the farthest removed of those ,vho had been his spiritual children. It may be that} .13 ,vhil::;t still standing ùay by day before the Altar, and lifting up this chalice of God to God-although the old age to bo rather desired is those grey hairs, \vhich are a sonso of Divine things, and those thing::; \vhich are imlnacnlate lifo-yet these ar111S may gL'O'V weary and faint ,vith tilne and toil, but the Inelnory of your affections ,vill bo ,vith mo, and if, as I trust, I continue to hear of your charity and love for one another, the grateful tidings will refresh my soul. Let me then, Iny dear and beloved frionds, thank you with alJ my heart} anù ,vith all my love let 1110 thank you. First, for your fidelity and charity; then, for tho acrifices you have o often and so generously mado; next, for the edification ,vhich so many have so often given me; and for this very beautiful and costly gift, ,vhich is so fine a synlbol of our mutual love and affection in our Lord. 1Iay Almighty God bless and love you. 1Iay lIe give unto your hearts the fulness of peace. :\Iay He make you an edification to each other and unto all. Yon are ,vorthy of a better pastor; may He give you a pastor according to His own heart, and may we all have tho grace so to persevere as to reach that final and joyful cOIning" togetner ,vhich ,vill never kno,v more of separation." Bishop Ullathorne lost no time in proceeding to his now bphere of action. lIe slept the first night at Ir. 'richborne';:; house in Bath j and ,vent up to the College of Prior Park the next morning in cappa magna, in Ir. 'l'ichborne's carriage, for the public reception accoròing to the prescriptions of the Ritual. He addre::;scd a fe,v ".orùs to the assembled clergy and laity, a considerable number of \vhom had been invited to meet his Lordship and dine with him. 'he College had been the residence of Bishop Baines, and Biðhop Baggs, but it had been a settled principle -!-i for many years past in the mind of Bishop Ullathorne, that a Bishop ought to reside in the most populous city of his district, or at any rate in some important to\vn, where he couìd gather round hill1 as many clergy as possible and cal'ry out ecclesiastical cerelllonies as thoroughly as circunl- stances ,vould permit. He bad already intimated this to Dr. nrindle, ,vho \vas President of the College and Vicar- General of the Di trict; but at the saIne time had declared his intention of taking up his rcsidel1ce in the College for a while, both to sbo\v his interest in the establishment, and that he might have time to become acquainted with all the bearings of his ue\v position, before he committed himself to any decided action. Everybody knows \vhat a painful source of anxiety the financial condition of Prior Park had long been; and ho\v its capacity for s\vallo\ving up ecclesia:stical funds had spread discontent both amol1g clergy and laity. The College broke up for the :\lidsullilller holidays soon after the Bishop's arrival, and during the recess nego- tiations \vere entered into for the re-arrangement of the teaching and go\ernillg taff, before the students hould return. Several recent converts froll1 Oxford and Cam- bridge ""ere either inmates of the College, aspiring to the ecclesiastica.l state, or married men living in the adjacent city of Bath; and it was proposed to elllist the services of several of these in tbe ne,v arrangement. But both they and the principal priests engaged in the house had already had unpleasant experience of the unsatisfactory condition both of studies and discipline in tbe College. On receiving their appointments, therefore, they met together and drew up a memorial) which they presented to the Bishop, in which the) urged the necessity of many changes. The Bishop promised to give the matter his best consideration, and summoning them the next day, --15 pointed out with great ùi:.;crilnir.ation cPl'tain points on ,vhich he thouO'ht their demana reasonahle, and ,vould o himself endorse them, but eliminated certain others as unnecessary, and these, therefore, he declined to press. Dr. Brindle refused to accept even t1lose conditions on ,vhich the Bishop wa.s prepared to insi t, whereupon his Lord:,hip Baid he must renOllllce all further responsibility in the aflhirs of the College, and Inost of the ne\vly ap- pointed staff refused to act. The Bishop himself went to Bristol, where he lived in a hired house for a considerable time. )lost of the official and principal supporter:;; of Prior l'ark were either ex-Benedictines ,vIlo had abandoned \ Inpleforth to aid Bishop Baines in establishing his new college, or pupils whom they had taken thence, and who had afterwards become priest::;. They were, therefore, not predisposed to accept ,,-ith yery good grace the govern- lneut of one ,yho had himself been a member of the Benedictine Priory of Do,vnsidp, ,vith ,,'hich Dr. Baines had lw,a such serious differences. roreover, Dr. Brindle had :-;ullk his private fortune in the college, and natural1y clung to his o"Tn views and pInus as the best means both of promoting thp good of the hou;;;o and securing his o,yn intere ts. Dr. Ullathornc offered to take the establi h- n1ent off his hands with a1] its difficulties, but only on the condition of exercising fuB control over it in a11 respects. It was impossible for the two heads to ,york together. Dr. Brindle being in possession, and having (as ,vo have said) a large personal stake in the place, remained firnl in his position, and filled the vacant places by recal1- iug, with the Bishop's permis ion, certain old members of the college ,yho ,,-ere occnpyil]g various posts in tl)e di trict. Oue of these gave utterance to a saying, which spread far and wide in Catholic circles, to the effect that .16 Prior Park had killed two bishop already, and seemed not unlikcly to kill a third, to which a sharp retort from the Bishop was soon equally ,yell-known, that hitherto he had been in the habit of killing the difficulties that attelnpted to kill him. ..A..nd so we doubt not he would have done here also, had tilne been allo,ved him. He began by geutle remonstrance in correspondence, then held a formal visitation-a thing almost or quite unknown in England at that time, and finding that his directions, though given in due form, ,vere not obeyed, he proceeded _ to Rome to lay the difficulties of his situation before the Holy See. 'Ve need not follo\v the details of this history, as the Bi hop did not remain long cnough Vicar- postolic of the "r estern District to bring it to a final conclusion. This ,vas reserved for J..lrchbishop Errington at a later period. Here w'e need only say that a Comlnission of Bishops ,vas appointed by Propaganda, "Those action fully justified aU that. had been done by Dr. Ullathorne. 'Ve ought also to add, that although Prior Park passed for a while into lay hands, it has been recovered by the present 11ishop of Clifton, and is no". again flourishing as one of our Colleges under the presidency of lgr. "\Villiams. TJle Bishop having taken up his abode in Bristol, made a careful survey of the whole city, mapped it out into four 111Ïssionary districts-at present there were only t\VO churches, and these close together-and bought land and commenced a school in one of them. But ,vant of resources sadly hampered all prog-ress; there ,vere no funds either for the education of the clergy or for admini- strative purposes, or for tho lllaintenallce of the Bishop. Although in the course of his briefVicariato he contriveù to traverse the greater part of the district, yet the expenses of travelling on the one hand, and the amount of ,york to he done ill Bristol and Clifton on the uther, obliged hilll 47 to limit hi:-; chief energies to tho e pla.ces. 'Ve need not say that his especial attention was paid to the communities of religious 'VOlnen under his jurisùiction by giving retreats to them, and in other ,vaysj they were amongst his most loyal supporter:::;, anù often gave hill1 much material help in his straitened circumstances. 'rhe Bishop has, hÍ1n elf, ,vritten so fully the a Hi::;tory of the Restoration of the Catholic Hierarchy in England" that ,ve nlu t refer our reader to that volume for all detail::; -here we need only state that Bishop Ullathorne ,vas sent in the early spring of 18--t8, at the unanimous request of all the Vicars-Apostolic, to be their representative and agent in Rome for the prosecution of that affair. He arrived in the Eternal City on the 25th of Iay, stayed there about ten ,veeks, and returned to England in time to meet the assembled Bishops at .ßlanchester, ,vhither they had gone to assist at the opening of the ne,v Church in Salford. It is matter of history ho,v Dr. \Viseman, coadjutor to the Vicar-Apostolic of the lidland District, ,vas renloved to Lonùon, ho,v Dr. 'Valsh died not 101lg after,vards, and Bishop Ullathorne ,vas appointed to be his successor, in spite of his O'Vll remonstrances, and his attachment to his first episcopal home. He felt that his plans for Bristol and Clifton were beginning to assume a very practical shape and therefore regretted luuch that he ,vas obliged to leave them unfinished. 'The con1munity of his Dominican children, ,vho had follo,ved him froln Coventry to Clifton, and whom he cherisheù ,vith so special a care, ,vere both expanding in number and largely developing their good ,yorks-these also he must leave behind, promi:;Íng however to establish an affiliation in his ne,v juri::;diction as soon as he could see his ,vay to it.. 'Ye have not hitherto lnentioned in the course of this narrative the name of Edgar Eùmuud E tcourtJ but as he 8 ccolnpanicd Bishop Ullathornc to Birn1Ïngham, and occupied so prominent a position in that diocese until his lamenteù death ill 188-!, it is necessary that we should here say a ,vord about hilll. lIe ,vas one of those convert;:; fruln the Established Chul'ch ,vho had found a temporary hOITle in Prior Park, but had left that college when Dr. Ullathorne'B connection ,vith it ,vas broken, and at once \yellt to live ,vith the Bishop as his Secretary; he no,y accompanied his lordship also to Birmingham. The new Bishop was received in St. Chad's Cathedral, Bir- n1Ïngham, on Oth ugust, 1848, by the main body of the clergy of the district. Fr. N e,vman and hi cornpanions, who had but recently taken possession of Old O cott, were also present. The clergy dined with the Bishop, and Dr. 'Veedall, speaking in their nall1e, addressed his Lordship in a beautiful oration expressing very cordially their unanilnous loyalty to the ruler set over them by the Holy See. rrhis sho,ved his Lordship that he had not to apprehend the sanle kind of moral difficulties ,vhich had beset him in his former Vicariate; but he soon found that the material difficulties of his ne,v position ,vere hardly less serious than those he had left behind him. From causes ,vhich need not be specified, the temporal administration, both of the missions and of Oscott College, 'vas sadly elnbarrassed. He saw but one ,yay open for restoring the balance of accounts to a healthy condition. He resolved to take the clergy into his confidence, and to gain their consent to a general reduction of income, at least for a ,vhile. To raise funds for Church Education he deterlnined to ask for contribu- tions from the faithful, and to organise a systeln of weekly collections, but from them also it ,vas impossible to obtain the sympathy and aid he required without nutking theni ill some degree acquaiuted with the real difficulties of the 49 case. This be did in a series of financial Pastorals, from one of ,vhich ,ve lllake the follo,villg quotation: "'Ve have had a careful and minute investigation mado of such existing liabilities as the Bi hop, in the nan1e of the district, is personally responsible for, and of the funds ,vhich exist for" the purpose of meeting them. The result of this examination has been to show a deficit of no less than 1.975 a year, besides certain other liabilities sufficientìy serious, ,vhich entirely fall on our contingent resources. Of this deficit, however, ,ve are enabled to state that the yearly anlount of !375 due to various missions is all that can be proved to be of strict debt and obligation arising out of funds ,vhich have existed, but have no,v ceased to exist. . . . This result has gradually arisen in one or more of these ways. The late venerable Bishop "T alsh, acting on the recommendation of his legal advisers, changed a nunlber of investment , which, instead of becoming more fruit.ful, as expected, became diminished, owing to the increase of attendant expenses, the deprecia- tion in the value of securities, and to absolute losses. This ,vas one source of diminution; another was the follo,ving:- "\Vhilst principal moneys were in hand, during their transition froll one investment to another, pressing claims appeared, to nleet ,vhich promises and expectancies were at the same time in view. Unfortunately these promises were not in all cases capable of fulfilment; these expec- tancies, owing to various causes, were not at all times answered; yet under the existing pressure, and calculating on being able to replace them, portions of capital ,vere advanced, and the replacement could not always be accomplished." His Lordship then, ,vith great thoughtfulness, went on to justify the memory of his predecessor, by pointing out that, if the pre'5ent generation had not the money, they o 50 had at least the noblest advantages from its expenditure; that not less than fifty churches had been erected under his administration, besides various convents and a number of schools, most of \vhich had been aided, and some of them to a great extent, by Bishop Walsh. He concluded by saying: "For the rest, Brethren, our own duties are pl'escribed by the position in which we find ourselves placed. Instead of expending money for the present on new undertakings, it becomes us as a general rule to hu ba.nd the resources \vhich come to hand until every claim of justice be satisfied." This is eminently characteristic of the Bishop's justice and charity, and the results have abundantly re\varded the course that ,vas pursued. With the effective co- operation and untiring perseverance of 111'. Estcourt, the miserable state of affairs, of ,vhich he had had to complain, soon began to mend, and may no\v be said to have finally disappeared. And here, perhaps, will be the most fitting place to mention a characteristic of Bishop Ullathorne's Episcopal administration, which cannot fail to have arrested the attention of all thoughtful observers. \Ve allude to the unwillingness \vith which he has made appeals for pecuniary aid to the faithful of his flock. Spite of his great needs, he suppressed one of the three yearly collections which had hitherto been usual in the diocese: and on frequent occasions discouraged or even peremptoriJy forbade attempts that ,vere being made to provide resources that \vould have helped him in the various good works be was known to have in contemplation. He has expressed his feeling upon this subject in one of his ecclesiastical discourses, delivered in the fifth diocesan synod in 1875. His words are these :-" There is no :Jll9re binding union between men than that which rests 51 upon tho freo anò constant interchange of gifts that are needful for their very life. Freely has the pagtor of souls received, freely must he give to the flock \vhat is needful to their spiritual life. And without contract, bargain, or form of exchange, since there can be no measure of proportion between things spiritual and things temporal, the people freely offer to their pastor the means for his earthly subsistence. (If,' says St. Paul, ',ye have sown unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if we reap of your carnal things?' The gooll :-;hepherd expe!1ding his life for hig flock, the flock from duty, gratitude, and devotion supporting the life tbat is expended for them, presents one of the most beautiful combinations in the whole Divine structure of the Church. Each party has a work and a sacrifice in the other, and whatever is cherished by sacrifices is dear to them who make the sacrifice. In these obligations of mutual service, our Lord provides the bonds of higher confidence and closer love. But for this ,vhole reason can there be nothing more injurious to the filial devotion of the people towards tbeir spiritual father than A- for him to be constantly reproving theIn, and driving at them in ways that reveal a hankering for their money. It 111akes the Church and the Priesthood odious in their eyes. It displays an utter want of spirit, sense, and spiritual tact. Such a one will ask me :-rrhen how am I to live? 'Vhat am I to do? Our Lord will tell you: 'Give, and it shall be given unto you.' If you at'e really generous to the people's spiritual wants, they will be generous to your temporal wants. 'Vise, pruàen , and laborious priests ,vill all tell you this. It works as our Lord intended it should work, with the regularity of a law of nature, that if the pastor give hÍ1nself heart and soul to the spiritual interests of the people, ,vithout x 52 distinction of person or class, they ,viII never see him ,vant. Nay, if he set himself to provide needful charities, his resources will gro'v in proportion. But if the people see him more zealous for money than for souls, they ,viH close their hearts to his lnost passionate pleadings. Of course there are times and occasions when it becomes the pastor's duty to bring money questions before his congregation and to do his best to succeed; but a wise priest accomplishes this duty in the most calm, sensible, and reasonable ,vay, be it for church, school, charity, or personal requirements. Of what he receives he keeps accurate record, and gives true account, ,vhich inspires confidence both in his disinterestedness and his manage- ment." These noble words are a faithful reflection of the uniform practice of hinl ,vho spoke them. Iention has already been 11lade in this narrative of the negotiations, in which Bishop Ullathorne had been the chief agent, for the restoration of the Engli h Hierarchy. These belonged to the year 1818. But in the Novelnber of that year, the Pope had been forced to fly from Rome and did not return till the Spring of 1850, the city being in possession of the revolutionists during the greater part of the intervening period. The Cardinals also had been dispersed, so that no Congregations had been held in Rome during this time of trouble and disorder. But after order was restored, the case of the English Hier- archy was again taken in hand, and after the usual discussions and cOlnplete exalnrnation of the subject, the Brief was issued on September 29th, 1850. 'Ve need not describe the turmoil that succreded its publication in this country. Cardinal Wiseman's appeal to the people, and a public meeting in the To,vn Hall of BirnlÍngham, pre- sided over by Bishop Ullathorne, on November the 18th, had much to do ,vith recalling the English mind to a healthier anti more sonsible tone. 53 On Sunday, October 27th, his lordship took pos ession of his Cathedral in presence of an immense congregation, and after the gospel Dr. Newman delivered his remarkable sorl11on, " Christ on the 'Vaters." .And 110\V having reached this point in our story, having installed the subject of our biography in quiet possession of his throne, as the first Bishop of Birmingham, we are disposed to lay do\vn our pen in despair, appalled at the audacity of the task we have undertaken. If \ve remem- ber rightly the lessons of our youth, Aristotle has some- ,vhere said that for one man to praise another implies a certain degree of superiority in tho person who utters the praise. It implies that he has already attained such a standard of excellence as to be able to take the just nlea:3Ure of the other, from every point of view. But then .A.ristotle \vroto before the creation of that ne\v and ,vonderful race of nlen, anonyu10us editors, to ,vholn diffi- dence is one of the dead virtues and lTIodesty a thing unknown. Born in full possession of faculties far beyond the average vouchsafed to ordinary mortals, educated to such a hoight of perfection as to become living Enc)Tclo- peedias of universal knQwledge, and invested from the first moment of their occupying an editorial chair with a kind of official infallibility, they are able to sit in judgment on c'''ery other cla s of Inell, \vhether kings, emperors, or popes, and from their jud.gnlel1t there is no appeal. Hut ,YO are young in the editorial chair and confess we are not yet quite accu:5tomed to the use of this tremendous po,ver. 'V 0 nlust, therefore, confine ourselves in the 111ain to a chroniclo of fact , though we fear our feelings ,vill not allo,v that chronicle to be a::; dry and colourlcss as our relations to his Lordship ,vould seem to make becoming. Tho fir::;t point in estimating the life and character of a ;)4 bishop would naturally be tho government of his clergy, and the administration of his diocese. We have already said something on this latter particular, and the former is precisely that on which it becomes us least to speak. We will only say that during the forty years of episcopacy, we believe that not a single complaint has ever been carried to Rome against his Lordship's decisions, a fact which of itself sufficiently demonstrates the justice and moderation of his rule. 'fhis is due in part to a well-known habit of his Lordship, ,vhich to some of his younger clergy has at times ,vorn the appearance of unnecessary delay. He has ahvays made a point of neither answering vexatious letters, nor acting on the complaints and reports of others, until he has given the Inatter consideration for at least a day. If the case in hand required any kind of exercise of authority, hD never moved till it ,vas perfectly ripe for action J and then the word and the blow \vere at once decisi ve. Like many good and holy men, the Bishop is 'VOllt to attribute the best p0ints of his character to an excellent lnother, of ,vholn ho can never speak but in terms of most tender affection. He considers that he inherited from her a certain calmness of telnperament, and that he o,ves still n10re to her early lessons of prudence and practical good sense, sho,vn unceasingly in her example, and, at fitting seasons, in her ,vords of advice. Be the cause what it may, the effect ,ve think is undeniable, and has been most beneficial throughout the whole of his episcopate. The clergy have always found in him, a safe and ready counsellor who, under ordina,ry circumstances, left them in possession of their full liberty. Only when they WOI'e about to engage in any work involving the expenditure of money, did he sometimes find it necessary to moderate zeal by the 5r, lessons of prudence ,vhich he had gathered in the course of his long experience. One of his maxims iu the matter of church or school building has been this, "always to allow a margin for unexpected contingencies to the extent of one-fourth of the original estimate, aud not to aHo'v tho ,york to be begun until at least two-thirds of the estimate ,vere in hand." l\10ro than oue priest of his diocese has had rea OIl to repent his ,vallt of faith in tho wi dorn of the fir t part of this regulation. This practical knowledge of ecclesiastical architecture enabled him to be of the utnlost service in guiding those of his clergy who were engaged in the building of churches j and though his own predilection was always decidedl.r in favour of Gothic art, yet he did not attempt to impose his views upon others, ,vhether clergy or laity, ,vhose tastes led them to adopt another style in the works they undertook. At the COln- mencement of his career he often had occasion, ,vhen the influx of converts into the church ,vag so unusually great, to check the imprudent zeal of some who ,vere disposed to enter upon ,yorks beyond their means; and he used to say that matters would not be set right until one or two of them had been put into gaol for debt. It created, there- fore, a considerable degree of amusement, when, by a singular turn of fortune, his Lordship himself wa::; arrested and sent to vVarwick Gaol precisely on this account. "The case against him was curious; he was a debtor who had borrowed nothing, received nothing, given security for nothing, but he happened to be one of the eæ-officio trustees of a charitable bequest, and though he never had any beneficial interest in the bequest, the lanagers of the Ghunorganshiro Bank obtained an order for his arrest. His tilne in durance vile was more lively than lengthy." 'Ve think it lasted only ten days, and during that time, he anù his fellow prisoner, the President of Oscott J were 56 overwhelmed ,vith sympathetic visitors, Catholic and non- Catholic, ,vho loaded them also ,vith presents of all kinds, of which the Governor of the gaol came in for a consider- able share. This happened in the beginning of DIay, 1852. 'rhe best testimony that can be given to the success of his administration is to be found in the following brief statement which we take from one of his pastorals in 1884; that 44 ne,v missions have been founded and 67 ne"\v churches built, and the number of priests increased froln 86 to 198, ince he first began to rule the diocese. As he himself says, in another pastoral letter (1866), "of all the material signs of the progress of God's kingdom in a country like this, the most important is that ,vhich tells of new churches and new schools. In each church that i8 raised, the Church universal makes a step forward, plants another foot on the soil, opens another path to heaven, and the Grace of Christ gushes through another spring, flo,ving from the inexhaustible fountain of the merciful Heart of Christ." 1'he increase of cOlnlnunities of ,vomen is still more remarkable. For the government and direction of these he has ahvays had a special attraction. From the moment he conducted to the Antipodes the five Sisters of Charity ,vhom ,ve have spoken of before, he had always entertained the highest opinion of the value of their co-operation in missionary ,york, and his profound kno,vledge of the religious life attracted other cOilllllunities also, 'whose province ,vas more contemplative than active. At one time or other, as he tells us in his C( Plea for the rights and liberties of religious ,vomen," he had been the eccle- siastical superior of full half the convents in the country. Although he used laughingly to tell the inmates of these houses that he was ready to offer to any of his brother bishops six nuns in exchange for one priest, yet ,ve sus- 57 pect that the days and weeks he has spent in preaching on the occasion of clothings, professions, nnd jubilees, in giving long courses of instructions, or conducting spiritual retreats for these spouses of Chri t, have been a source of real pleasure, and a great relief to his mind fronl the luore active turmoil of his ordinary life. There were seven convents in his diocese in 1850; there aro no,v thil>ty-six. Instead of n single House of :ßlercy, as the one charitable institution in the diocese, ,vhich existed at the earlier date, there are now t,vo houses of mercy, seven orphanages, two asylums for the poor, t,vo hospitals for incurables, and two homes for children under the Poor La,v Board. In almost every instance these institutions are conducted by nuns. He has held six Diocesan Synods, preacllÎng at each. He more than once preached at the Provincial Synods of 'tVestminster, and ,vas in continual request for the same purpose at the consecration of the new bishops for the various dioceses. He ,vas also invited on several occasions to preach in Ireland and Scotland. During the ,vhole of his Episcopate, it may be said that either his tongue or his pen ,vas never idle. \Vhen- ever there was any attack upon the Church in the form of an enemy ,vithout, or n traitor ,vithin the camp, Bi::,hop Ullathorlle ,vas among the first to sound the alarm alid to lead the defence. And on these occasions he rarely failed to carry the attack with great effect into the enemy's camp. By his speeches at public meetings in the Town Hall, Birlllinghu'lu, 011 the occasion of the popular tumult against the IIierarchy, and again on the invasion of the Pontifi al Donliniolls, and also on various Catholic que tions at the ....1.nllual Reunions; by pamphlets on the "Proposal to subluit convent::, to Government inspection," on the "Association for the promotion of the Unity H 58 of Christendom" (1864) ; on (( Certain fethods of the Rambler and the Home and Foreign Review," (1862-3); on (( the Döllingerites, ],11'. Gladstone, and Apostates frotl1 the Faith" (1874); on "the Prussian Persecution" (1876), and by many other publications of the Bame kind, we can quite imagine that strangers outside may have been led to consider him to have established a claim to the same title he once acquired in Ne,v South \Vales as the Right Rev. Agitator-General. But those \vithin the fold 'v ill know how to appreciate the ,vatchful activity of the faithful Shepherd of souls. Nor has his intellectual activity been by any means confined to polemics. He kne,v ho,v to turn his rare occasions of rest and recreation to profitable account for the instruction of his people. Witness his "Pilgrimage to La Salette" (1854), and Letters on the same subject (1858); his "Pilgrimage to the Proto- fonastery of Subiaco, and the Holy-Grotto of St. Benedict (1856), &c. &c. Other writings belonging to ncither of the classes before mentioned are "Remarks on the proposed Education Bill" (1850); a volume on the Ilumaculate Conception (1855); "Lectures on the Conventual Life" (l868), and on the " Confessional" (1868); a "History of the Restoration of the Catholic Hierarchy in England (1869); "The Council and Papal Infallibility" (1870) j (Ecclesiastical Discourses" (1876); "Church :à1usic" (1880), &c., &c. But perhaps the greatest and most inlportant ,yorks that have come from his pen have been the fruit of his ripe old age, "the Endowments of 1an " (1880), followed by the" Groundwork of the Christian Virtues" (1882), and no,v about to be completed by a volume on " Patience." These, though ,vritten in their present shape quite recently, contain the accumulated wisdom of his 'v hole 59 life, and ,viti ever bo a lasting monument of his power of observation and analysis. 'Ve have heard one of his l piscopal brethren express his delight that Bishop Ullathorne had been spared to produce these works, as \vithout them, he \vould have gonè down to posterity as a successful administrator indeed, and an effective contro- versialist, but could not have been appreciated at his true ,vorth as an original thinker and a master of the spiritual life. 'Ve have known also hard-headed lawyers and others, not within the pale of the Church, who have found in these \vorks most valuable instruction as an antidote to the poison of infidelity in the midst of which they live. rrhere arc two persons ,vhose names stand forth con- spicuous in the history of the diocese of Birmingham during the last forty years, of whose relations with its Bishop it \vould seem necessary 've should say a fe\v word::;. 'rhe one is Cardinal N e\vman, the other 1\fother Iargaret 1\fary Hallahan, foundress of the English Congregation of Sisters of Penance of St. Catherine of Sienna, of the third Order of St. Dominic. Of the relations between J\fother l\Iargaret Hallahan and Bishop Ullathorne, he has himself given some record in his preface to the interesting life of that wonderful \vomau. He gives thanks to God that in His goodness he had deigned to make him an instrument to co-operate in the work of that great soul and that he had had the privilege of her friendship and prayers for six-and-twenty years. As to the character of that friendship, he re-echoes her own words, uttered on her Jeathbed-" it has ahvays been in God and for God." He sums up her charact.er in the few wordd wherein font.alembert describes certain heroic women of our country of the olJ Saxon days, namely, that she had the vigour of the man, the tender.. 60 uess of the woman, and the sinlplicity and unpretending humility of the child. It ,yill not be forgotten that it ,vas Dr. Ullathorne who brought her over to England in the first place, and guided her not only in her external works, but also in her interior soul, during the ,vhole period of her labours here. Ând if the genius and character of an artist may best be learnt from a study of his works, so in like manner much more can be learnt of Bishop Ullathorne from the study of }\{other l\largaret's life than ,ve have either time or power to tell. The relations between the Cardinal and the Bishop have been uniformly characterized by mutual respect and regard. Indeed we must substitute other ,vords, and say admiration and affection. The Bishop, in a letter dated June 2, 1864, says to the Cardinal, (( We have now been personally acquainted) and much more than acquaillted, for nineteen years, during Inore than sixteen of ,vhich ,ve have stood in special relation of duty to,vards each other. 'l'his has been one of the singular blessings ,vhich God has given me among the cares of the episcopal office. "That my feelings of respect, of confidence, and of affection have been towards you) you kno,v,vell. Nor should I think of expressing them in words. . . . During our long intercourse there is only one subject on ,vhich after the first experience I have measured my ,vords ,vith some caution, and that has been "There questions bearing on ecclesiastical duty have arisen. I found some little caution necessary because yon 'v ere ahvays so prompt and ready to go even beyond the slightest intimation of my ,vish or desires." On the other hand the Cardinal has not failed to ex- press on various occasions his appreciation of the Bishop. vVe shall presently see one specimen of this in the address 'v hich he COlllpO:5ed in the name of all the clergy on the 61 occasion of the half jubilee of his episcopate. Long before this in the earliest days of his connection ,,,ith the Bishop (1850), the Cardinal had dedicated to the Bishop his Lectures 011 Anglican Difficulties, on the ground of the well known interest ,vhich his Lordship had so long taken in the religious party to which they referred, and the joy and thankfulness with which he ahvays welcomed the nutnifestations of God's grace, as often as first one and then another of their number emerged in his turn from the mists of error into the light of peace and Catholic truth. Again in the History of his Religious Opinions he has borne testimony to the Bishop's love of truth and justice in the following passage-" When I first became a Catholic, nothing struck me more at once than the English out-spoken manner of the priests. It was the same at Oscott) at Old Hall Green, at U shaw; there ,vas nothing of that smoothness or mannerislll, which is commonly im- puted to them, and they,vere more natural and unaffected than many an A.nglican clergyman. The many )years ,vhich have passed since, have only confirmed my first impression. I have ever found it in the Priests of this diocese; did I ,vi h to point out a straightfor,vard Englishman, I should instance the Bishop, "ho has to our great benefit, for so many years presided over it." 'ro this ,ve must add a more recent document, written indeed under sonle misapprehension of what ,vas contem- plated, but much too pertinent to our present purpose not to be inserted in this place. " June 2nd, 18b6. " Dear Provost N orthcote,- I do indeed with all my heart join in the address of congratulation, which I believe you are sonding to the dear Bishop on the completion of the 40th year of his episcopate, and I hope that the Chapter and clergy will allow me to unite my name to theirs in this pleasant and dutiful act. 62 "I recollect the day of consecration well. IIis Lordf3hip had most kindly invited me and my intimate friends to the sacred rite, and after It he did me the special favour of making me acquainted with that holy woman, 1\1other l\Iargaret Hallahan. " Not long after the Oratory took its start in England, and special relations ,vere created by the Holy Father's Brief, between its Fathers and the Bishop of Birmingham, and the experience of the long series of years which have followed has filled me, as you may well understand, with the affectionate and grateful recollection which so holy and kind a superior could not fail to impress upon me. "This letter but feebly expresses what I would say, but I am losing the use of my fingers, and, strange to say, this confuses and impedes my use of words. "I am, my dear Provost, "Yours most sincerely, " J OH:N H. CARD. N EW L.\.N." This letter of the illustrious Cardinal naturally puts us in mind of the different occasions on which the love and admiration of the flock in general have been mani- fested to,vards the Bishop. One such occasion was his return from Rome in the year 1867, ,vhen an address was reà.d to him in the Library of St. :ßlary's College, Oscott, accompanied by the presentation of .:ß2) 700 J to enable him to commence a ,york that was known to be very dear to his heart, the establishment of an Ecclesiastical Seminary. The address began by testifying the deep sense which both the clergy and laity entertained of his Lordship's unwearied labours in the pastoral office for the nineteen years, during ,vhich he had so happily governed the diocese. Without enumerating the many claims he had established on their gratitude during that time) or tho continued efforts ,vhich he had so successfully made for 63 the spiritual advancement and temporal well-being of the diocese, it expressed their desire to present him with some Jasting testimonial of their respect and affection which they knew ,vould be more acceptable to him than any gift offered personally to himself. The Bi hop in reply stated that the donors had divined the Inaster ,vish of his heart; for that of all the testimoni- als that might have been selected, this ,vas the one most acceptable to his feelillgs. "This is one of those occa::;ions/' he said, C( so rare ,vith regulated minds, yet so precious when the hour comes; when feelings that have long and silently accumulated find their utterance at last, though they fail to find an adequa.te expression. The pastoral duties, in their character so paternal, have planted between us relations of affection as well as of duty. And time only tends to draw closer, and to strengthen those spiritual bonds of grace, of faith in each other, and of mutual charity, ,vhich it is a Bishop's noble office to foster and to perfect." Another such occasion 'vas in June, 1 69, when after holding the fourth of his Diocesan Synods, an offering of f,358 ,vas luade to him in St. Chad's Cathedral towards defraying the expenses of hi assisting at the General Council in Rome. The Itinerariulll 1\:-as solemnly recited by an the clergy for his safety on the journey, and many accompanied him to the station to wish him God speed at the moment of his departure. In the year 18i], his Lordship had reached the half jubilee of his Episcopate, and the clergy determined not to allow such an event to pass by ,vithout due commemoration. The Bishop sang the Iass in his cathedral on "\Vednesday, the 21st of June, after ,vhich a costly pectoral cross and chain ,vere presented to him, accompanied by the follo'w- ing address, ,vritten by Cardinal K eWlllan :- 64 1\1 Y Lord, We, your Lordship's dutiful clergy, Secular and Regular, venture to address you on this day, the twenty-fifth anniversary of your consecration, in the belief that it will not be unwelcome to you to receive our united cougratulations on what may be rightly called the Jubilee of the Diocese. Only to a few members of the Episcopate is it given at any time to complete so many years of Episcopal labour as have been granted to you; and that, in addition to a long previous course of services, many and various, at home and abroad, in the ministry of Holy Church. From the schools and cloister of St. Benedict, through a rough time anù hard struggle in the cause of the outcast and prisoner at the .Antipodes, after SOlue busy years of successful nlissionary work in this neighbourllooc1, you were brought on by God's good provideGce to that day, when, in a Church built by your own people, as a monUlnent of your exertions among them, aU1id a large concourse of clergy, some of whom now address you, you were, by appointment of the Holy See, made one of its Vicars in this country, and submitted to that solemn rite which anointed and sealed you to take your place among the supremo rulers in the household of God. You were consecrated an10ng us, but not for us; but it was fitting that a connexion thus auspiciously commenced should issue in a more direct and permanent relation to the Catholics of these parts; and accordingly, 8hortly after, Oll the restoration, not without your own special exertions, of the Hierarchy, in spite of the ties of duty which bound you to the 'Vest of England, you were non1inated by the Holy Father to fill its central See, and to be the first Bishop of Birmingham. For more than twenty years has your name been inti- lnately connected with this great city; for twenty years and more have your prayers and efforts been directed to give a form and purpose and a steady prosperous growth to its nascent church, which was c01l1mitted to your tutelage. Many nursing Fathers, as we humbly trust, will be given to the Church in long series, as time goes Oll; but it can have - '" . . ............ ,. t_ - lJ .e .::; .II 5.:r... + 1 / 13Q7Vn0/Z- f!J"v>iwþ.1-I3 jh . 65 only one parent and founder j and it is your prerogative, my Lord, to have had the primary occupancy of a field of labour, large, multiform, and important, with its numerous clergy, its religious houses, its zealous Catholics iu all ranks of the com- 111Ullity, and the high offico of moulding and wehling them together into one whole, after that ecclesiastical model specially prescribed by the Apostles in the beginning. And, through Divino mercy, you have been allowed in great Ineasure to see the fruit of your long toil \Vhen you came here, there were three missions ill this p!ace j now there are nine. \Vithin the circuit of your prc ent jurisdiction outside Dirmingham, the Inissions have increased frolll GU to 100. Large and handsome Churches have been built at \V olverhamptoll, Stafford, Longton, Stone, Stoke, Leamington, 'Varwlck, \Valsan, Broinsgrove, Stourbridge, and Kidder- luinster. Your clergy were 79 when you came, they are 160 now. Houses of reli ious women have been your special care j they have increased from 11 to 26. And, as a sillgul r fa.vour of God, to you it has been given to rccognise, from your first coming among us, that gr'eat and h.)ly soul, taken from us three years ince, who, guiùed by your personal direction, and sup- l)orted by your episcopal countenance, at length sent [')r'th her children iuto other dioeeses, and has already added a hundf.ed nalnes to our English roll of the spouses of Christ. ::\Ioreover, on you has devolved, as the first bish0p, the duty of forming our diocesan Chapter, of initiating the periolJical observance of diocesan SynodS!, of providin for the t1ue order of Episcopal Vi"itation, aud of carr'ying out in other ways the ùetai18 of ecclesiastical organization involved in the introùuction of the lIierarchy. Two objects there have been, which you ha\re had at heart, but which it did not lie with yourself to bring into effect :-One was the convocation of an CEeulllenical Couneil, for the adaptation of the discipline of the anon Law to the requirements of moùern times j and thi.s you have seen fulfillcd l you yourself taking in it DO ordinary part. The other 1 ü6 was the collection of funds for the foundation of a SeJninary, according to the injunction of the Council of Trent, for the education of the diocesan clergy; and this great undertaking, we rejoice to know, is on the point of being commenced. N or is it in behalf of the clergy only that you have successfully exerted yourself in the interests of education. By your personal exertions, and under your large-minded patronage and sanction, schools have multiplied among us, for lligh and low, for boys and girls. At present there are eighty-three poor schools in the diocese, twenty-five of them conducted by religious teachers. The benefits resulting to the Catholic community from these will be better understood and set forth by the next generation, than they can be estimated by ourselves at the present moment. My Lord, we come before you with this address, young and old; but, whatever be our age, according to the years that we have had experience of your governance, we gratefully recognize in you a vigilant, unwearied Pastor; a tender Father; a Friend in need; an upright, wise, and equitable Ruler; a Superior who inspires confidence by bestowing it; the zealous Teacher of hi:3 people; the Champion, by word and pen, of Catholic interests, religious and social; the defender of the defenceless; the vindicator of our sacred ordinances, amid the conflict of political parties and the violence of theological hostility; a faithful servant of his Lord, who by his life and conduct claims that cheerful obedience which we hereby, with a full heart, offer to you. 1\1:y Lord, we stand this day in the place of those many fellow labourers and subjects of yours, ,vho have worked with you in their time, who felt what we feel about you, who, in the course of twenty years, have been taken away from you for their reward. Their works remain for our benefit, and for our example. \Ve wish to support you in your episcopal cares, as they supported you before us. May the Lord of life and death add many years to those which He has already given you; and, when at length your tim.e shall come, as come GI it 1111lSt to everyone of us in his own turn, 111ay you be foun(l worthy to receive the" ncvcr-fading crown of glory" promised to the good shepherds, who, in the words of the Prince of the Apostles, "hitxe fed tho flock of God;" "non coaclè, sed spontaneè secundum Dcum, Jlcque turpis lucri gratiâ, sed voluntariè, 'JZl'que ut dominanlcs in clcris, sed forma facti gregis ex animo.". There ,vonlù have been another presentation 011 a n1uch grander scale, ill honour of his Sacerdotal Jubilee in IBM 1, had not his Lordship himself interposed and expressed a ,vish that the offering should consist of prayers and D1asses. On that occasion, he sang his Jubilee Iass and Te Deum of thanksgiving in the Chapel of St. Iary's, O::;cott, ,,'hence he addressed the follo,ving letter to all the clergy of his Diocese :- St. l\Iary's College, Oscott, September 26t1l, -/88/. REV. AXD DEAR SIR, After my humble thankgiving to God, "\Vho in IIis goodness has brought me to the fiftieth year of n1Y priesthood, I take the earliest opportunity Gf expressing the gratitude which I deeply feel to all those who ha\Te ofl:'ered their prayers to Gcd for their Bishop, 011 an occasion to him so full of solemn memories. To the Rev. Clergy, ever loyal to the pa toral staff; to the devotcd religious WOluen, who adorn the Diocese with their yirtues and good works; to the pious laity, luany of whom 11a\"e offered their supplications for Ine to tho t11rone of God; and certainly not less to the children, whose simplc-hearted petitions are always pleasing to God, I give all thc thanks of which my heart is capable. 'Vhen it reached my ears that there was an intention of making a presentation from the Diocese, in honour of n1Y * "Xot by eOll1"traillt, but willingly according to God; not for filthy lucrc.s akc, but voluntarily; ncither as lording it over the clergy but ùeillg made a pattern of the flock from the heart."-I. Pet., v., , 3. 68 sacerdotal jubilee, for reasons ,vhich I deemed prudcnt, I took the liberty to suggest that, instead of a presentation, I lnight be allowed to ask for prayers. For prayers are indeed the most precious gifts which one soul can offer to another. But I was not prepared fOL so general and fervid a rCSpOl1Re to this desire. \V ishing for the retirement befitting the occasion, I sougbt it in tbis College. But when I stood at the altar in those pontifical orl aments which I had borne for fixe-and. thirty years, with the weight upon Ine of fifty years of responsibility in the sacred ministry, I was touched with tender cmotion in beholding the whole College, eyen to its youngest n1f mbers, approaching to recei\re the Iloly Communion at my hands, that they might ofrtW their supplications to God fur me. And as I knew and felt that in every Church of the Diocese each priest wa:5 offering the Holy Sacrifice with me, and for me; that in every Convent each religious was approaching the altar fro!Il the same motive; and th t not a few of the pious laity and some of the schools of children, were aho offcring their devotions to God on I11Y behalf; I Inust indeed have been insensible not to have been deeply 1110ycd with gratitude to God, froIn \Vhom evcry good find charitable inspiration comes, and largely grateful to those de\rout and gencrous souls who were pleading to Ilea ,cn for mc. Bcyond those prayers which I aUl bound in duty to offer continually for all under my pastoral care, the only return I can 111at{e will be to offer three tiu1es the Holy Sacl'ifice in a special 11lanner for all those who have prayed on this solemn occasion for grace and bles ings upon their Bishop. In the nU1l1erous and affectionate letters "hich I have recei,ed, altogether beyond lilY deserdngs, 111ention is frequently made of the great progress which our holy faith ha made, both in this country and in the colonies, since the solmnn day when I was first ordained to the altar. Undoubtedly I have seen wonderful changes, beyond an expectation, as well in Australia-to which my first services were given-as in thi country. Hut if, next to the grace and mercy of God, this has - ;;; ::- .o' - . .- - :: I;; .' ""' - --' ...._1- :: ....' - .. ;; -' !' .10. - .... " , - .- """ . . - - '3 t'C .- .i- -t. . oJ --- .A.. .s--- t'- .... ::í. -d BISHOP ULL \THORKE. p-intir, t JOH'<' PETTI R..\.. in th" 1 ( >It(1 .f T, .. R [H A" . F - . 60 been owing in great measure to the constant care and wise pro,-isions of tho Ho]y ee, and to tho watchful sohcitude of the Bishops, it ic; also owing, in n very large measure, to the constant, stubborn and untir.ing labours of the Clergy; to the energetic converts whom in wonderful and hidùen ways God has brought into tlw Church; to the prayer of the c1oi tercd, and tho unwearied labour of the actire rcligious communities, devoted a they arc to every liind of charity, both corporal and spiritual; and again, whiel1 we sl10uld ne'"C1. forget, to the prayers and good works of tho lay luembers of the ChurclJ, and e pecially of tho e who, joining generosity to edification, do so 111uch in aiding us to build up the Ch11rch of God. I thank God for the happy peace and unity with wl1Ïch lIe has so long blessed this Diocese, a unity which is always strengthened by our mutual prayers for each other, and b)""'" our ch3.ritable judgments of each other. or in this blessed unity are we an exception to other Dioeeses of England, whose Clergy and people adhere faithfully to their Bishops, as JOu to n1e. I ah;o pour forth my gratitude to God for your loyalty alid charity to him who has so long borne the luitre of spiritual go,'ernment among )'ou; that llutre which the learned Bishop :ßlill1er so long adorned with his \\ i:::dolll and courage; that mitre which the ll1eek Bi:shop 'Ya1::-:h bore with so much gentleness and genero itJ. I pray God to reward you a hundredfold for your goodncss and charity to me, c8peciallj. on this s01en1n occasion. ,And not DIlly to the l cv. Clergy, who are IHY right hand, but to the ùeyotcd religious, ",hon1 I rcgard with paternal affection, find to the pious laity, e'"er ready to rcspond to the call of thcir Bishop. I pray God, wië:h all 111Y heart, that lIe would grant to you and to them an nbundance of those spiritual blessings which you ha\'e so piously invoked upon me, and I rell1ain, .HcV'. and ùear Sir, Your obliged and ,levoted Seryalit in Christ, + '\TILLIAl\I BERNA.UD, BISnOl) OF BlnMINOll..l. . [fBRARY ST. MARY'S COLLEGF 70 The late t-,ve sincerely hope it mar not be the last- of these presentations was of a more private, but yet lllore ,veighty character, at the meeting of the English Bishops in London in the Lo,v"\V eek of the present year (ì886). 'rhey knew how perseveringly he had ahvays sot his face against te titnonials; but they determined that on the attainment of his 80th birthday, ,vhich happCllea during tho tÍ1ne of their meeting, there shoula be no possibility of escape. laking him sit do,vn in thcir nlidst, tho Cardinal .d.l'chbi:Jhop of 'Vestminster, in the name of all the Bishops standing on either side of biln) offered hÍ1n "their felicitations and cOldial expressions of the confidence and reverent affection ,vhich they felt for him) accompanied ,vith a little token in the shape of books connected ,vith the sDecial line of the studies .L and ,vritings which be is still persevering in for the public good, though so ,veIl entitled to repose and rest frol11 aU further labours. The scelle ,vas private; for none were admitted but the members of the hierarchy, but it ,vas as touching as it wa sin1ple and unique. The tribute of adu1Íratioll, confidcnce, and love, offercd by the \vhole hierarchy, ,vill be most assuredly welcoll1ed ana applauded by the \vhole Church in England and Australia." These ,vords, ,veIl known to proceed from the pen of one of the Bishops themselves form the Dl0st fitting conclusion to our record, as the act itself ,vhich . they commemorate forms tho most fitting cro,vn to the life of a "FIDELI ERVUS ET rnUDE S, QUE)! CO STITUIT DOMINUS SUPER FA)IILI..\ I SUA.)!." 7J \Ve proceed to give a fe\v extracts froln the I ishop' t:) letters, puLIißhed and unpublished. Of the lat.ter there n1ust be an enornlOUß lllunber both ill the houses of Catholic fanlilies, and still 1110re in the archives of divers relig'ious COln- Inunities up and dO\Vll the country; for fe\v men had a larger circle of friends, and fe\v \vcre ever 11101'0 frequently consulted in spiritual difficulties. I-lis ready sYlnpathy proll1pted hin1 frequently to \vrite notes of congTatuIation or condolence even ""here they had not al\vays been expected; and his ans,vers to questions on spiritual Inatters, if only they could be brought together, \vouId, \ve SU8pect, fill a very goodly volullle, solving' 111êLUY a probleln of the interior life. \Ve much reg'ret that \\"e are ,vriting under pressure of tilne, and therefore have Hot been able to n1ake as ]arge a collection of 11laterials as \ye could ,vish. But the fûllo\ving' selection, small as it is, ,viII be read ,vith profit and interest, and furnish a fair specinlen of the ,vhole. Heartiest thanks are due to those ,vho have kindly èontributed frolll their treasures. 'Ve are specially indebted to the falnilics at 13addesley Clinton, Garendon Park, and Spetchley; as also to the religious COU1- 111unities at Atherstone, Princethorpe, Selly Park, and Stone. 72 I.-PUBLISHED ÅDDRESSES, DEDICATIONS, AND LETTERS. .Llddress to Dl.. JT'eedall on his elevaUon to lhe dignity of Munsiynore on the 50lh f1J1niversa'ry of Dr. JVeedall's corning to Oscott, Jane 11th, 185:t. I feel a singular pleasure, Right R v. Sir and Iny de'1r friend, in uniting Iny congratulations ,vith those that have been presented to you by the superiors, professors, and students of the College on this auspicious occasion. For fifty years your name has been associated ,vith this institution, from ,vhich it never can be in future separated. In its present expansion and completenesð J the College of St. lary's, O cott, recognises you as its founder. A.dmiraùly as experience ha::; sho,vn this large structure to be adapted to its purpose , finished as are its arrangemcnts, suitable and harmonious as are its appoint- l11ents, even to the least detail , it ,vas the eillanatioll of your mind; and the titne through ,vhich it has flouri:,hed, from its foundation on this beautiful site, has but indicated lnore pcrfectly the judglnellt and foresight which you exercised in its projection. And in your venerable yet vigorous age, you have come to rene\v that peculial" spirit of ecclesiastical piety and discipline \\Tithin its ,valls ,vith ,vhich your character imbued it from the first. 'fhe Supreme Ponti in that document ,vhich has just been read, has sho\vn how ,veIl he understands and ho\v thoroughly he has appreciated your merits even in their detail; and the distinction ,vhich, unsolicited and unlooked for, the Father of the Faithful has, out of his high consideration and of his own motion, conferred upon you at this interesting moment of your career, reflects 73 honour from you upon me, upon this College, upon this Diocesa j and I know how thoroughly, how heartily the clergy join with me in congratulating you upon this ,vell.. merited proof of .Ltpostolic favour. One thing only I regret in this festive commemoration. You have been deceiving us. So gently has the green vigonr of your spirit grown over this half century, in companionship with the College, that the term has come upon us suddenly and un&,wares. It 'vas a sudden discovery. Aud the discovery came so late, so near on the day, that there ,vas not time left for ample preparations. I myself kne\v of the arrival of this jubilee only three days ago. Had there been but time for the invitations, I am sure that many clergYlllen from the adjoining dioceses, that distinguished prelates, that many of those once your pupils, of more than one generation or even two, who occupy dignified positions in the ,vorlJ, would have gladly come here this day to give you cordial proof that their esteem and veneration for you has undergone no change. .A.fter the discriminating appreciation of the Sovereign Pontiff, my commendations \vere vain. But if only for my own satisfaction, I ,vill dwell a mornent on that modesty and gentleness which, instead of impairing, adds force to firnluess ,vhell fit occasions call it forth. 'l'hat keen spirit always of the Ecclesiastic; that kind and loving heart. 'Vitness it, Rev. Brethren; Dr. 'Veedall has pa.ssed those fifty years and has never made an enemy. \rith \vhom did he ever come in contact ,vhom he did not make a. friend and a constant friend? Then that eye for the beautiful, that perception for the true, that exquisite ta:;;te in litera:ture, th3.t learning of ,vhich the Sovereign Poutiff speak::). Justly, my dear friend, you are esteemed the Father of this College; nay, more, as the Father of the Clergy; nay, more, a the Father of Bishops; and K 74 the Right Rev. Prelate at my side is not the only one ,vho is prepared to ackno,v ledge in you that endearing title ,vhich you share with Louis of Grenada. Pius the Ninth is not the only Pontiff, my brethren, who knew the merits of our venerable friend. When our little church was expanded from the number of four to that of eight Vicars ...-\.postolic, we remember, if he does not, that Gregory the Sixteenth set his mind upon him for fi mitré. But from that modest and humble estimate of himself, and doubtless from a deep and elevated sense of the Epi copal re'5ponsibility, he dared to struggle with the Apostolic ,vill, and ,vhen he left that Rome ,vhere he at last succeeded in winning hif:) liberty, the great Pontiff said to him, "N o,v that I know you so ,veIl, I will not so easily let you escape a second time." Half a century since you began your labours in this College! There is a vein of melancholy in the recollec- tion. Would that the fifty years past were fifty years to come! But may God long sustain your spirit, young and fresh as it still is, and may time touch your frame in a manner as gently and kindly as your o,vn. 11ay you find Heaven late, but find it ,veIl. In the old monastic rite, the Jubilarian receives his staff to support his declining years. Your spirit still sustains your frame ,vith ease, but may the love and veneration of the clergy of this diocese be your staff of support, find may God within your heart be your consolation. To Ðl". Newman on the publir,ation of his Apologia. Bishop's House, June 4, 1866. fy dear Dr. Newman, It ,vas with warm gratification that after the close of the Synod yesterday, I listened to the address presented to 75 you by the clergy of the dioces0, and to your irnprcssive reply. But I should have been little atisfied with the part of the silent listener, except on the understanding with nlyself that I al"5o might afterwards express to you my own elltiments in my own way. 'Ve have now Leen personally acquainted, 9.nd much more than acquainted, for nineteen years, during more than sixteen of \vhich \ve have stood in special relation of duty towards each other. This has been one of the singular blessings \vhich God has given me amongst the cares of the Episcopal office. \Vhat my feelings of respect, of confidence, and of affection have been toward:3 you, you know well, nor should I think of expressing them in words. But there is one thing that has struck me in this day of explanation, \vhich you could not, and \vould not, be disposed to do, and which no one could do so properly or so authentically as I could, and which it seems to me is not altogether uncalled for, if every kind of erroneous Ï1npression that some persons have entertained with no better evidence than conjecture is to be removed. It is difficult to comprehend how in the face of facts, the notion should ever have arisen that during your Catholic life you have been more occupied with your own thoughts than with the service of Religion and the work of the Church. If we take no other work into considera- tion beyond the written productions which your Catholic pen has given to the world, they are enough for the life's If! bour of another. There are the Lectures on Anglican Difficulties, the Lectures on Catholicism in England, the great work on the Scope and End of U nivorsity Education, that on the Office and Work of Universities, the Lectures and Essays on University Subjects, and the two volumes of Sermons; not to speak of your contributions to the Atlantis which you founded, and to other periodicals j then 76 there are those beautiful offerings to Catholic literature, the Lectures on the Turks, Loss and Gain, and Callista, and, though last not least, the Apologia which is destined to put many ill rumours to rest, and many unprofitable surmises j and yet all these productions represent but a portion of your labour, and that in the second half of your period of public life. These ,vorks have been ,vritten in the midst of labour and cares of another kind, and of ,vhich the world kl1ow very little. I will specify four of these undertakings, each in a distinct character, and anyone of which would have made a reputation for untiring energy in the practical order. The first of these undertakings was the establishment of the Congregation of the Oratory of St. Philip N eri- that great ornament and accession to the force of English Catholicity. Both the London and Birmingham Oratory must look to you as their founder, and as the originator of their characteristic excellence j whilst that of Birmingham has never known any other presidency. No sooner was this ,york fairly on foot than you were called by the highest authority to con1mence another, and one of yet greater magnitude and difficulty, the founding of a University in Ireland. After the Universities had been lost to the Catholics of these Kingdoms for three centuries, eyerything had to be begun from the beginningj the idea of such an Institution to be inculcated, the plan to be formed that would \vork, the re:::;ources to be gathered, and the staff of Superiors and professors to be brought together. Your name was then the chief point of attrac- tion which brought these elements together . You alone know what difficulties you had to conciliate and what to surmount, before the work reached that state of con- sistency and promise, which enabled you to return to those 77 responsibilities in England which you had never laid aside or suspended. \nd here excuse me if I give expression to a fancy which passed through my mind. I ,vas lately reading a poem not long published fronl the 1\188. De l erum Natura, by Neckham, the foster-brother of Richard the Lion-hearted. He quotes an old prophecy attributed to .Jlerlin, and ,yith a sort of wonder, a:::; if recollecting that England o,ved so much of its literary learning to that country; and the prophecy says that after long J ears Oxford will pass into Ireland-" V ada bourn suo tempore transibunt in Hiberniarn." When I read this, I could not but indulge the pleasant fancy that in the days when the Dublin University ßhall arise in material splelldour, an allusion to this prophecy might form a poetic element in the inscription on the pedestal of the statue which commemorates its first l ector. The original plan of an Oratory did not contemplate any parochial work, but you could not contemplate so many souls in ,,,ant of pastors without being prompt and read} at the beck of authority to strain all your efforts in coming to their help. And this brings me to the third anù the most continuous of those labours to ,vhich I have alluded. rr'he lission in Alcester Street, its church and schools, ,yere the fir:5t ,york of the Birmingham Oratory. After several years of close and harà work, and a considerable call upon the private resources of tho Fathers ,yho had establi:5hed this congregatiou" it ,vas delivered over to other hands, and the Fathers removed to the district of Edgbaston, ,vhere up to that time nothing Catholic had appeared. Then arose unùer your direction the large Convent of the Oratory, the church expanded by ùegrees into its present capaciousness, a numerous congregation has gathered and grown into it j poor schools and other pious institutions have grown up in connection with it, and .j 78 moreover, equally at your expense and that of your brethren, and, as I have reason to kno\v, at much incon- venience, the Oratory has relieved the other clergy of Bllomingham all this ,vhile by constantly doing the duty in the poor-house and gaol of Birmingham. More recently still, the lnission and the poor school at Smetlnvick owe their existence to the Oratory. And all this ,vhile the founder and father of these religious works has added to his other solicitudes the toil of frequent preaching, of attendance in the confessional, and other parochial duties. I have read on this day of its publication the seventh part of the "Àpologia," and the touching allusion in it to the devotedness of the Catholic clergy to the poor in seasons of pestilence reminds me that when the cholera raged so dreadfully at Bilston, and the two priests of the to\vn \vere no longer equal to the number of cases to which they were hurried day and night, I asked you to lend lne two fathers to supply the place of other priests \vhom I \vished as a further aid. But you and Father 8t. John preferred to take the place of danger which I had destined for others, and remained at Bilston till the worst was over. The fourth work which I would notice is one more widely known. I refer to the school for the education of the higher classes, which at the solicitation of many friends you have founded and attached to the Oratory. Surely after reading this bare enumeration of work done, no man ,vill venture to say that Dr. N ewman i leading a comparatively inactive life in the service of the Church. To spare, my dear Dr. Newman, any further pressure on those feelings with \vhich I have already taken so large a liberty, I ,vill only add Olle word more for my own sa tis faction . 79 J}uring our long intercourse there is only one subject on which, after the first experience, I have measured my ,vords ,vith seme caution, and that has been 'v here questions bearing on ecclesiastical duty have arisen. I found sOlnc little caution necessary, because you ,vere always so prompt and ready to go eyen beyond the slightest intimation of my \vish or Je:sires. That God lllay bless you wit.h health, life} and aU the spiritual gooù ,vhich you desire, you and your bretht'en of the Oratory, is the earnest prayer now and often of, ly dear Dr. Ne,vmall, Your affectionate frienù and faithful servant in Christ, + 'V. B. ULL lTIIORNE. To the Students of the Ecclesiasticrtl Sendll ar!!, on the occasion of his Religious Jubilee, 1873. Rev. and dearly beloved Sons in Christ, Among the numerous letters I have received on occa- sion of my Religious Jubilee, among the many prayers offered for me, and the variety of Inemorials that have reached 111e, there 'was nothing that gave me a truer gratification than your letter. In that h tter I recoguise the first fruits of that devotion to the episcopal character and office ,,,,hich is amongst the best signs of a real eccle- siastical spirit. Nor aIll I insensible to that genuine feeling of your heart , of reverence and love to the Father ,vho has done his best to secure for you, as aspirants to the great offic of the priesthood, both fatherly guidance, anù intellectual training, and spiritual formation, and such comfort as befits your state. Your prayers for me I value much. 80 In your good spirit I place full confidence. I look upon you as the spes altera gregis. I believe that you quite realize the iluportance of establishing in yourselves such a spirit of generosity and of sound discipline, that those who follow after you may ahvays be able to appeal to the first students of the Seminary for exanlple. Under the affectionate and wise guidanco of your superiors you are founding the traditions of the Serninary; and the day, I trust, ,vill come, when you will look back to your Seminary life ,vith special satisfaction, and ,viTI see the fruit in many students of the seeds of ecclesiastical vir- tue that are now in course of planting in your souls. 'rhe day will COlne, I hope and trust, when S. Bernard's Seminary will be a centre of light to the whole diocese, and when the rays of that spiritual light will reach far and wide through its )fissiolls and Religious Institutions. But thi will delnaud the harmony of \vill with under. standing, of fervour with light, of life with science. In the course of a fe,v daY8 I shall send you a copy of the Memorial of Gratitude in ,vhich the four J ubilarialls have addressed the Illustrious Archbishop of Sydney, the father \vho t,rained us both in life, science, spirit., and discipline; and in that record of our gratitude you ,vill gain a glimpse of \vhat prepared us to be missioners, and his Grace to be one of the great 1\Iissionary Bishops of our tirne. I earnestly and humbly pray Almighty God so to bless you and to conduct you that in you the spirit most worthy of his Divine Goodness Inay be consolidated, and that you may become in your turn a blessing and a light from God to this Diocese. I remain, dearly beloved Sons in Christ, Your devoted and affectionate father in our Lord, + WILLIA11 BERNARD, Bishop of Birmingham. 81 Dedication (if" The G1.0IU u.lwork of the Ohri::;lian Virtue8." To the Reverend Mothers and the Sisters of the English DOlninican Oon!Jte!J{{tion of St. Oathe'tine of Sienna. T)ear Sisters in Christ, Yon \vill give a hospitable welcome to this book. [t is yours by right of origin, yours by right of possession, anù yours by right of your prayers for its success. It took its bpginning from instructions directed to the formation of your first n1embcrs, and the light of its principles is already implanteù in your minds and hearts. rrhe holy Bishop of St. A.hlhclm, who was the first Englishman, as he tells n , ,vho ever cultivated literatare, dedicated his chief \vork to a conventual circle of" Christ's tnost holy Virgi us;" and he assigns these reasons for thus aùdressing them: their purity of life, their loyalty to their vow , their concord in religious discipline, and their sagacious pursuit of the sweet \visdom hived in the holy Scriptures. lIe tells them that he never received their letters ,vithout lifting his hands to heaven in gratitude; and that, touched \vith their devout urbanity, he gave thanks to the King of Heaven, who had given him to behold on earth such daughters of grace and handmaids of Christ. He says that, under the motherly guidance of Hedelitha, those virgins of Christ were ,veIl instructed in holy doctrines, and well trained in the exercises of the "oul to run their course with energy and skill. For IIedelitha I may substitute the names of :\Iargaret and lmelcla, the first venerable mothers of your religiou life, no\v happily ,vith God. Fro the Inotives assigned to his spiritual daughters by St. Aldhelm t\velve hundred years ago, for dedicating his book to them, I may aùd one more. Having watched over your cOllgrcgatioll from it:s craùlc, having also co- L R2 operated ,vith its holy foullJress in its forll1atioll aIla expansion, I have desired, among the responsibilities uf the episcopal office, to complete this book, and to place it in your hands as some token of my paternal affection, as some Inemorial of my solicitude for your solid instruction, which your filial gratitude may pass on to the generations that come after you. Next to the God of all condescension, who is the lover of humble souls, to ,vhom but to yau should I dedicate this book? So long as your motto expresses your life; so long as you.seek GOD ALONE, and find in Him the supren18 object of your desires; so long as you are earnest as ,veIl in the second object of your life, to dra,v to God the poor, the ignorant, and the suffering, ,,'hom Christ has redeeulf'd j so long ,vill the charity and sweet peace of God be with you, and the fragrance of your cheerful virtue::; ,,,ill Dttract other souls to follow your example. 'rhis, illY dear Sisters} is the earnest prayer of your devoted Father ill Christ, + 'V. B. ULLATHORNE. Birmingham, April 10, 1882. To the Ole1tgy on the death of Oanon Estcourt. Bishop's House, Birmingham, April ] 8th, 1884. Rev. and dear Sir, I feel it my solemn duty to communicate to you, with my o,vn hand, the departure from this ,vorid of the Very Rev. Edgar Edmund Estcourt, and to ask your earnest prayers and the prayers of your congregation for his eternal repose in the light and presence of God. ]'ly affectionate and devoted friend for eight and thirty years, and the devoted servant of the Diocese for six and thirty years, his strong and beautifu! cÞaracter cOldd only 83 be thoroughly kno\vn to tho:5e who had the privilege or his illtilnate frienùship; for his gentle and refined spirit was moùost and uuobtru:-iive. Full of faith, the eternal truths formeù the vital principle of his soul, and tho lllotive of hi;::; life. IIis eye wa. single, his heart sÏ1nple, his purity delicate, his piety tender. For many years it plea eJ Goù that he should endure tho fire of corporal suffering::; for his purification, ùay and night, and those sufferings were many, complicated, and unusually severe; in the Inidst of ,vhich he ever bore himself ,vith a gentle patience and a devoteù resignation \vhich struck, not only his friend::;, but his Inedical advisers ,vith respect and aùn1Ïratioll. Amidst all his sufferings and languors he never relaxeù from his arduous duties as temporal ad. ministrator of the Diocese, always giving proof of the same assiduity, accuracy, punctuality, ßkill, and sound judgnlellt that distinguished his more vigorou::; years. Hi knowledge of the earlier history of the Old Iidlaud District, hi remarkable memory of the most complicated dctail , the knowledge which he ha,ù acquired of property 1a w, and hi clear and sagacious judgment made all his steps secure. He never once cOlllmitted any grave error. '\Vhat this Diocese owes to his administration, few persons except myself can say. He raised it out of great difficulties, cleared its financial history of many and most seri0us obscurities, and left its temporal condition greatly in1proved. 'ro turn to his personal character; his generosity and charity were of no ordinary kind. 'rhose who only knew him in the dry and formal letter of business, could have 110 idea of that sympathctic kindness of heart .which led him to put himself to any amount of inconvenience and trouhle to ùo an act of kinòne , to rplieve a distress, or save another'::; mind frolll perplexit.}. For many years 84 his services to the Diocese were altogether gratuitous, and it was only by entreaty that I could at last induce him to accept what was absolutely necessary for his porsonal requiremeuts. Such ,vas the good auù faithful servant ,vl1om God gave us for the service of this Diocese, and for whose generous soul I solicit your prayers. Eternal rest g-ive to him, 0 Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him, with 'rhy saints for ever ill eternal peace. I remain, Rev. and dear Sir, Your faithful servant in Christ, + 'VILLIA I BERNARD, Bishop of Birmingham. On the Devotion of the Rosary. Birminghau], October 5, 1875. l\ly Dear Lady Chatterton, You will find an account of the Rosary iu Butler's f( Lives of the Saints," vol. x, on the 1st of October- that book of prodigious learning of all sorts, ,vhich Gibbon so highly commended for its accurate kno'wledge. If you have it not, you ,viII find it at the convent-it is in all Catholic libraries. The principle of the Rosary is very ancient. Beads were used as an instrument of prayer in the East before Christianity. '1"he Fathers of the desert counted their prayers, in some recorded cases, with pebbles. But St. Dominic, at the beginning of the 13th century, gave it its present form. The Paters and Aves, attached to the beads, are but the body of the prayer; to get at the religious philosophy of the Rosary we must go to its soul. The soul of the Rosary is the meditation. To understand this you must have a little manual of the Rosary, to be 85 fO:.Inù in most prayer book:,. There you ,viII seo that HIC I osary is ùiviùcù into three parts, and one of these i represented by the 111aterial no ary, or string of bcaù ; one part only being said at one time, as a rule. Pirst is said tho Creed. and. three Our l'\Lther , represented by the large bead next the cro;:,s and the next three beaùs '1"he11 come the mysteries of Our Lord's Life, Sufferings: and 'rriumph, which are the objects of llleditatioll. 'rhe first part is the five joyful mysteries, each put in two or three sentences ill the manual to help the mind to its subject. Each of the e is thought upon ,vhilst saying one Our :Father, holding tho large bead, and ten Hail Iarys, 1101dillg in succession the ten little beads. Then the next my:.;tC'ry is taken ill the sanle way, until the ,vhole circle is completed; after \vbich there is a little prayer. For the five sorrowful mysteries of tho Passion, the same round of beads is similarly used on another occasion; and so Iike,visc for the five glorious or triumphant mysteries. The body of the Rosary is the vocal Our Fathers and Hail J.\Iarys; its pith and soul is the meditation. 'rhe beads, as they are held in the fingers, give escape to nervous re tLes ness, and so leave the attention more free. Thus the weakness of a nervous, or restless, or extroverted mind is provided against. :illany people can only think freely on a point ,vhen in action-,valking, for example; their nerves and seuses must have eluployment to free the Inind for concentration. 'rhe famous preacher who could only find his ideas flow 'vhen t\yisting a thread on his fingers is a case in point; his thread snapped and his thinking stopped. The fingering of the beads and the vocal prayers do this function, ai posing and freeing the mind for mcditation. Human nature is very complex; and its complexity of activity, which i::; in the Rosary provided for, is tho source of tho e di::;tracliolls that arise p 80 '\vhell we kneel inactive in body, and röpeat cu tom ry vocal prayers. L\. little activity of the hands and a fixed object for reflection to animate our vocal prayer cures much of this distraction. A lady can think over her l1eedle, who cannot think so \vell sitting still with unused hands. The Rosary was the hook of the unlettered before the ages of printing, which fan1Ïliarized their hearts with the chief mysteries of the Gospel; it is exceHent for t\VO cl2.ss8s-those ,vho like it and those who do not like it. Iinions of souls have been made contemplative and internal1y spiritual, in all classes, by its use, who without it could never have becolne so. As to those who do not like it because it is childish: I once gave a Rosary to a gentlen1an of high character, great attainments, and extrllordinary shrewdness-a convert. I said: "Say that for three months, and ask me no reason for it; after that you will give lTIG yourself a good reason." He diel so, and at the end of it he said: "I understand. You wanted to pun ào\vn my pride, to 111ake me simple-hearted and childlike, and to get into the habit of spiritual refl !ctjon. I shaH never leave it off again." Some people do not like to take the llledicille that ,yould heal thein, and call it nonsense. The Rosary is exactly that nonsense ,vhich cures an amazing deal of nonsense. Call it spiritual homæopathy if you like. Iany a proud spirit has been brought do\vn by it. Many a faddy spirit has been made patient by it. Iany a queasy spirit has been luade strong by it. .àlauy a distracted spirit has Leell lllaùe recollected by it. " The \veak things of this ,yorld hath God chosen to confound the strong." As to the relative number of Hail Marys, I willllot give the Iri h carman's solution in reply to the 87 interroO'ativc of hi Protestant farc-that 0110 Our Father l"') is w'orth ten Hail )f arys any day. There is a deeper solution. Y Oll will relllernber in " Ivanhoe" ,,"hat a, thrilling interest i created where the \vounrlecl hero on his beù of pain bees the ,vhole conflict as it rages round the fortre::, through the eyes anù heart of the J cwi h n1aiden, who beholds and describes it \vitli tenùer accents from the ,vindo,v of his apartrnent. There you have the sense of the ITail Iarys. Through the pure and tender oul of the rother, more allied to our human \veakness, you behold the life, act , anc1 sufferings of the Son, ,vhereby onr own sonl is opened to tenderness, to sitnplicity, to all of the Juother within us; whil t ,ve look on Him through her, invoking her to join our prayers with hers, the Iother and Queen, by Ilis IIeaveuly Throne. ,y onderfnl is the Rosary! For its history see Butler's cc Live of the Saints." I give you its beautiful philosophy, for so St. Jerome calls Christian \VisdoI11. Pra)-ing our Lord to bless you, I remain Your faithful servant in Christ, + 'V. B. ULLATHORNE. On Oerc'lnonial. Birmingham, November 19, 1870. \ry dear Lady Chatterton, Your letter and paper rearhed D1e at Li\"erpool, ,vhere I have Leen preaching in a Benedictine Church, on the Festival of .A.ll Saints of the Benedictine Order. On my return I was delayed to profess a Benedictine nun. I send for J"OUl' atUU:5ernellt a pen and iuk portrait of the 88 sermon and preacher, which only proves how little a man ,vho only sees me once in a pulp}t can judge his, I ,vill not say sitter, but stander. As to the timidity of which the portrait-writer speaks, [ am afraid it sprang not so much from modest-mindedness as from shivering cold, especially as certain ,vindows of the large Church, being under repair, ,vere not glazed. So now to your paper. The beginning is very good. 'Vhen you get to the point of Cereillonial, it lllay be ,veIl to take hold of the general prillciple-Cereillonial is a language, and the most expressive of languages. Printing is a comparatively modern invention, but in all ages Ceremonial, or the language of action, has entered into the religion of man, and that in all races and religious systems, until ,ve come to the Puritanism of the last t,vo cellturie , \vhen the Quakers alone succeeded in thro,ving off this mode of expression so natural to man. Yet have they succeeded? Ou the contrary, by their ùress, their form of keeping on their hats, their shunning titles, in all their formalism, they have stamped themselves a ceremonial people. \ Vi th respect to other forms of Protestanti:sm, it is a question of more or less, proportioned \vith great accuracy to the greater or less amount of doctrine retained. 'Vhat is Bapti m? \Vhat the Communion Service? 'Vhat the position of the altar or Communion table, on ,vhich such a controversy is raging? \Vhat is sIiandillg, or kneeling, or confirming, or funeral rites, or bo\ving at the Sacred Name, ,vhich S. Paul commands? Or the burying the head in the hand or hat, on first entering a Church and taking a seat or kneeling-place? \Vhat is all thi but ceremonial? ß-Ian cannot express himself ,vithout it; and it is ahvays in fact a question, not of the principle, bnt of more or less in practice. God Himself ,vas the inventor of the Ceremonial of t,he Old La,v} and our 89 Lord never does anything of importance without some significant action or ge::;turo, \vhich is ceremonial. Outside of Protesta tism, there never ,vas a religion, sect, or creed-Jewish, Christian, or Pagan-of \vhich the centre ,vas not sacrifice; and sacrifice is all action, with word:i as accompaniment. Nay, ,vhat are words but sYlllLol , and symhols \vith mouth a.rticula.ted and features Inoving to express the in,vard thought or emotion? And ,vhat are the printed letters of a Bible but the symbols once removed of those spoken words which the Spirit of God has expressed through the hand and pen of man? "Thich hands and pens, and the living bodies that moved them, are essentially in their action ceremonials. In our present compound state, everything must come to us through sense, and both God and man speak to us through human symbols and ceremonials. God has given to us t,vo modes of expressing ourselves, by ,vords and by signs; and the signs are the most vivid language of the t,vo. ffhey compel us to speak ,vith body and soul, and leave not the body inertly to resist the expression of the soul, but to go w'ith it, and give us security that ,vith our ,vhole unresisting being ,ye \vorship God or declare His 'Vill. 1Vhoever would reject ceremonial must not only tand stock still and refuse to speak, but, to be consistent, must even refuse the features expression, and the lip their movement. I am simply showing the absurdity of professing to reject a principle without the use of which you cannot even express ,vhat you ,vould reject. But the great ceremonial of the Church gathers round the Sacrifice and Communion, of which we have the ,vhole ceremonial type in the Last Supper. 'V hat ,ve see with faithful eyes, as Horace tells us, affects us more than what i adJre sed to the ear;:;. Ceremonial speaks to the boul through the e)"'e::); anù in large churches} all can read 00 ,vith their eyes \vhar ollly u limited llulllùer can hear. Then ,,,hat a language to those afflicted ,,,ith deafnes ! They read the "whole progress of the sacred rite with their sight. Ceremonial is pre-eminently the language for multitudes assembled, whether they can hear or read, or not. Of the t,vo languages given by God to man, and ever llsed in conjunction by all the races of the earth in llis ,vorship (until Protestantislll arose to reject the principle, but to retain the practice to a degree), Protestantism has in principle rejected one, and that the most subjugating of body to soul-the language of action or ceremonia1. Protestant.s have forgotten that ceremonial runs through the whole Scripture from Genesis to the Book of Revelations. They have lost sight of the fact that tho latter sublime book has for its pictorial fraluework the arrf1Y of the Church ,vith its grand ceremonial around the Lamb standing on the altar for ever slain, that is the Christian sacrifice. rrhey forget in religion 'v hat Denlosthenes says of oratory, that is of expre sion, that the first, second, a.nd third secret of success is action, action, action. 'l'hey ,vould bury, if they could, the soul in a dull, stupid, disobedient, ]ifeless body. 'l'his has made the British race of recent ages the half-inanimate mortals that other nations pronounce them to be. But if I had never been able to use my eyes to construe 90ur lively features, expressive lips, and kindly hands in their offer of kindnesses, I should never have read your soul; and if anti-ceremonialists ,vould be consistent, all should be covered as to the face with veils, should hold their arms in tranquillity by their sides, and utter their sense in the purest vowel::s-the mere breathings of the soul. I have often regretted that ,ve have Dot a little dictionary of the sense of ceremonial acts, and have uften 91 threatened to write one, but have not the time. This, of cour:3C, is an excursus for your o\vn reading, but you may find out of it a fe\v sentences for your libretto. By the way, I met a 'Vebh lady last \veek just ente ing the Conveut at tolle, ,vho became a Catholic solely through testing the Protestant version of the N e\v Testalnellt by the Greek. In your final remark on the corruption of priests, 1 think that, unintentionally, you leave the impression that this Inay bo frequent, froln seeming to aSSUlne that the Protestant notion of it is correct, but needs vindication. .A. glance at it again, \vith its abrupt termination, \vill sho\v \vhat T 1110al1. Falls are not only fev;, but rare, as they are in the N e\v 'restamellt. Protestants can have but little notion of the way in which a priest is guarded in his state of life. The long and pious training; the daily recital of the Di\rine Office, most.ly taken from Holy Scripture, anJ the greater part consisting of the Psalms j the fixed hour of medi tation; the use of the Confessional; the strict canonical discipline that ;:;urrounds the priest's life; all these are perpetual helps, supports, and guards against human \veakness. Then will these good Protestant :suuls, who are ever talking of grace, be pleased to remark that a vocation to the prie thood ilnplies an extraordinary gift of grace froin the Holy Spirit, and that grace, unless much abused, is stronger than nature. Nay, I 111ay add that those reserved manners so offensive to the Protestant mind, are the outcome of that internal self-control and caution become natural, through long training from youth and habit, which, however artificial it may look to those ,vho have no key to it, is the necessary accompanirnent of tho sacerJotal character. Our Lord said to them de '/>Htndo non estis, and no one ought., if he be a Chri<;tian, to be 8huckcd that their life, aUl1 therefore their l11an1101'S, arc nut thù e uf the world. 92 fy concluding remark is that a profession of faith cannot be fairly grounded without some reference to the Church as the Divine Institution of Christ, the holder of His authority, and Tlis ,,'itness to mankind. The question recently put to Lord Redesdale, but left without a reply, is the true touchstone of faith: "Is the Church of Christ Divine in its authority?" Did the Incarnate Truth establish the authority to last for ever, or like 110ses did he point to its fall and reformation? And if so, did He point, as :ß10ses pointed, to some one ",ho should come, some other Divine One ,vho should reform llis work as Christ reformed the law of 110ses? If so, who is that Divine One? vVhence can1e He ? By ,, hat signs should ,ve know Him? And has His work become Divine in its authority, whereas the ,york established by Christ must have failed? There is one Church of Christ, with one truth, taught by one authority, received by all, believed by all ,vithin its pale; or there is no security for faith. If ,ve examine our Lord's words and acts, such a Church there is. If ,ve follo,v the inclinations of our fallen nature, ever averse to the control of authority, "'e there find the reason why so man)'" 'who love this ,yorld receiye not the authority that He planted to endure, like His primal creation, to the end. It is pleasant to human pride and independence to be a little God, having but oneself for an authority, and a light and a law from oneself to one elf. But does this, or does it not, contradict the fact that we are dependent beings, and that the Lord He is God? This spirit of independence, ,vith self...sufficiency for its basis and rebellion for its act, is just 'what Sacred Scripture ascribes to Satan. And as ,ve expect the character of God, and His unquestionable authoritj'", in the 'york that emanates from God anJ lead to God, so must 93 "e expect the cl1aracter of Satan-that i to :--ay, clf-sufiiciüllcy alid inùependcnce, in ,, hatever has been inspired by hÍ1n, and lüaù in his direction. But all thi::; is not for your paper, only something about the Church as Christ's ,vitne s and authority to man for IIis truth and His requirements. Praying our Lord to keep you, I renulÏll, dear Lady Chatterton, Ever most sincerely yours, + 'V. B. ULLATHORNE. II.-LETTERS ON SPIRITUAL SUBJECTS. On the Feast of St. Bm"nard, 1854. Iy dear Children in Christ, I thank you luuch for your affectionate congratulations aud good prayers on my Festival. That divine fire and persuasive unction ,vith which the Holy Gho t ,vrought the works of humility and divine love in the heart of Saint Bcrnard, attracted me when I first read the lives of Saints at school, and that beautiful analysis of his ,vritings ,,"hich Butler has appended to his life, used to be my delight. Hence I selected him for my patron in religion. "\V ould that I had kept his spirit more completely before me. If, my dear children in Christ, God bas done anything for you through me, it was because you gave me that child-like confidence ,vhich gave me free entrance into your souls. Confidence is perhaps of all others the gift which, 'VhCll one has received, one can never repay by any return to those who gave it us. Yon know, my dear 9 .t children ill Christ, \vhat a reverence I entertain habitually and actually for the spouses of Christ, and how much I love to see thelll grow in the perfection of their n10st beautiful, most holy state. If I feel I have any special n1Ïssion, it is to thcIn, and if in anything I am intolerant) it is to see anything narrow hearted, selfish, or opposed to generosity in those souls whoul our Lord has so especially loved, and been so unbounc1edly generous and loving to. Å holy person \vho died recently in Ghent, \vith great fame of sanctity, used to ay, it ,vas her peculiar habit and ejaculation to her neighbour; "Remember, God is not your step-father but your father." I rejoice to see you rejoice in God ,vith a holy freedom as JTour true, most near and dear Father; and rejoice ,vith confidence iu His eternal Son made man to be Jour spouse; and rejoice with return of love in 3heir Holy Spirit \Vho d,vells in your hearts to work the works of His love. r accept your offering to the altar at which I offer tbe . adorable sacrifice of eternal mercy and love; to clothe the altar is to clothe Christ. Praying Almighty God to increase your light and grace, and to perfect their fruits ill your hearts. I remain, my dear chilùren in Christ, Your faithful servant, 'V. B. ULLATHOHNE. '1'0 a Religious OO'nununity in a Watchmaldllf) Town. l\Iy ,veIl beloved children all ill Jesus Christ, :ßlay God bless you. :Thlay our Lord live amongst you. l\Iay His grace shine so clear in you, that like the sun it nlay over,vhelm the rushlight glimmer of your nature. l\Iar ßlary be in rour company, a 1.10ther at c,.err need. f)5 Your good wishcB arc ill) plea:sure; and your pl'ilyer;-; Iny help. The seniors ,vho ,vere with me froll1 the first, and sha.red Iny missionary ,vork , remind me that my f"onsecration wa a. ùay of :-:adncss. The younger oneR who have not had so Inany trials congratulate lue, and wish l11e lllany years. They Jou1tlc:ss mcan that length of clays ,vhich consists not in grey hair:-;, but in ,vi dorn. In that sense I ,vish you an to be very old, quite ".01'n out of the flesh, and like young eagles in the spirit, having the wings of the morning, fresh and vigorous in youth and grace, having the blood of life froln God, and its fire from llis Spirit. That you may not be any more children of men, liar of the flesh, lior of its blood, but wake the flesh serve the spirit, a faithful servant, well humbled and chastised and obedient. That your heart liay say in very truth, " my flesh shall exult in the liviug God, and all my bones sha:l say, Lord, who is liko to 'l'hee ? " l\Iy dear Sisters, take care of your wills, or rather give them into the care of God. I{eep your aense and your feelings, and your fancies in hUlnble subjection to your heart, and let your heart give itself each moment to God. Your body breathes each mOlnent, it is needful for )'our life. The breathing of the body says, "more air or I faint;" let the soul breathe each momen t, "more 10,"c, my God, or I gro\v feeble." "That a thing that 1l1Cll hould be able to make out of dead metal a clock that tick the time ,vo lose instant by instant, and ,vo cannot luake our living \vills breatho as constantly the acts of God's love, though all heavel1 he helping us, and expect... ing us to do it. 'rhe poor, dead, insensible clock is ,vound up but once a week, and we are ,vound up each morning in the hour of prayer. Ho,v is this? I fear the ,vinJ.ing up is not well <.lulle. Therc is tvo much reveric, 96 and too little action; too much head, and too lit tle heart. Less imagining and less reasoning, lllore aspiration and more spring in the heart; more loving, more action of affection will wind the clock up better. Let the pendu- lum, not of the tongue but of the heart, repeat more constantly and steadily, " Iy God, I love Thee! 1\1y God, I love Thee! Jesus, Thy love! Jesus, Thy love! " 'Vhat a rare clock! with a face like an angel's; instead of that prying haIÎ-mooll, ,vith its eclipses and inconstant beating! Eternity instead of short minutes of time, and angels counting the beats. N O\V I can wish you no greater blessing, my dear children, than that you should be such living clocks of eternal love, which you may be, for it is very easy after the first labour of winding up the ,vill. l\Iay God bless you. Your devoted Spiritual Father, 'v. B. U. Birmingham, 1881. Tv the PORfnlants and other Jnnior Jlembe'1's of a Religious Oommnuity. 1\Iy dear Postulants, Novices, and Junior Professed, I thank you for your gift of prayers on my feast, the best gift Olle soul can offer to another. You are no,v in your probation for the priceless privilege of religious life. Your souls are being opened that they may be formeù and graced váth the divine gifts. 'rhe spiritual vessels of your souls are being put under the fountain from which flow the waters of life. But in vain is the vessel put under the stream of life, unless the lid be open; and it is opened by humility and expanded by generosity. 'Yïthout these two virtues the grace of vocatioll} the free gifts of the Holy Spirit cannot freelj'" work and produce their fruits. 97 Be humble of heart, be generous in expending your- selves under the la,v of obedience, and God ,vill give you light and charity. 'rhe lamp of the ,vise virgin is bright with light and burning ,vith charity, but the lamp of the ull\vise virgin, if she is slothful, is sordid and neglected; if she is dissipated, it is sputtering and scattered j if she i careless, she upsets her lamp; if she iH conceited, he brightens the outside of her lamp ill a fond and foolish ,yay, but manages the light so awkwardly that in trimming it :she put:s it out. But be you wise, generou3 in action, vigilant and watchful in pra.yer, humble and desiring the better things of charity. I remain, Your devoted Father in Christ, + W. B. ULLA'I'HORNE. To the same. Birmingham J August 22nd, 1883. My dear Novices J To you and your worthy mother I offer my thanks for all your prayers offered and promised on occasion of my fea:::;t. It is now nearly sixty years since I was a novice, and I still remember those days as the happiest of my life. Those are the days when under divine influence the 80ul is opening and fresh grace is flowing in-the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost. When the ,vorld recedes and God draws near, and the suul is being searched ,vith light, and the whole life is turned round from little to great things, and the ,vhole intention of the ,vill becomes reformed. All fear::; become ab orbed ill the chaste and loviuU" o }. 98 fear of God. Piety lcarns to free' itself frOll1 tIle animal sensibilities, and becomes lutrdy and vigorous. Resolution gets strengthened into patience and fortitude. Knowledge enters into faith and becon1es a steady well lighted lamp. Counsel comes to us from the wise. Understanding enters into the light of truth which God presents to the mind and ,visdom begins to da,vn as the best and most desirable of things, to be ,yon at any cost. In short, the Holy Spirit calls and comes and brings His seven gifts to perfect you on a more solid basis. Happy are the novices ,vho kno,v ,vhat God is doing for them within, and their superiors acting from the ligh1 of God, and ,vho are faithful in simplicity and obedience to correspond with the loving designs of their heavenly Father. "\Ve novices, for I must confess I am yet a novice in the eternal ,vays, must be fools for Christ's sake, that ,ve may become ,vise in Christ. Pride of the heart will only yield to childlike folly. A novice should have no reputation to protect, no character to defend; she has to get rid of all that, that a better character may be formed in her, a simplicity that has nothing to defend but the love of Christ. Dispositions are more than acts, nay, the very foundation of action, and a simple, straightforward, humble disposition is ,vhat God loves and blesses. :ßlay grace keep the heart open and neither resist God's " - inspirations, nor the will of superior , and all ,vill come out beautiful and strong. I pray God to bless you, my dear novices, and to make you foolish to the ,vorld and wise to God, and remain, Your devoted father in Christ, + '\T. B. ULLATHORNE. !)!) To the salne. Birmingham, lay 8th, 1885. ly ùear Kovices, I thank you for your good \vishes on occa::;ion of 111Y entering on U1Y eightieth year, but very mueh more for the many prayers you have promised lne. ßIay God re\vard you. 'rhe harvest depends on the seed time, and the novitiate is the eed time of the Religious life, you ,vill be \vhat your novitiate makes you, neither more 1101' less. You have to be trained to humility and patience. Humility ,vill open your soul to the divine influence, patience .will give you ::;trength and discipline. Get rid of as much of yourself as you can, and in proportion as you get rid of yourself you ,vill be a child of grace. Have 110 private cllds of your o,vn, aud you will then be simple- hearted and open. Believe and trust your mistress and then she ,vill be able to form you. If you feel that you are ,veak and full of failures, that is a good beginning, because it is the beginning of self-kno,vledge. There is nothing so \veak as human nature left to itsolf. 'Vha; then l call make you strong? 'Vhat is ,veak call only be lllade strong by being joined to ,rhat is strong. God is your strength, and Hi strength is given to you in the shape of patience. " Be thou, 0 my soul, subject to God, for from Hiln is t . " pa JIence. You can teach nothing without patience. .A. patient heart makes a patient mind. .i patient head makes a, a patient tongue. A patient heart makes a patient hand, and so a patient hand makes a patient work. Every work is perfect in proportion to the amount of patience put into it. Thi::; i::5 that cU::5tody of the heart 100 of ,vhich our Lord says, "In your patience you shall possess your soul." Love of God expands the soul, patience regulates the love of God, and makes it ,vise and strong. So, my dear novices, I commend to you, as the principle of all religious training, humility and patience. Humility, to be subject to God. Patience, to adhere to God. I pray God to bless you with these gifts, and to make your wills conformable to your graces, and remain, Your devoted father in Christ, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. To th,tee Nuns .ç:etting sail fOl. Australia in 1855. I sincerely regret that I cannot see you before your departure, but I \vill say Iass for your ,velfare on Saturday tnorning next, and will keep you in mind and in IllY heart. How all this reminds me of my o\vn departure, as a young and solitary priest many years ago, in the first fervour of the priesthood, ,,-hen there were but four prie ts throughout that vast \.ustralia. Under ,vhat changed circumstances, and under ,vhat different auspices you are going to that same region. ly dear Sisters, God will be with you, and on the great broad deep on \vhich you embark, your minds will be lifted up to the Eternal God ,vho presides over its unchangeable, yet most changeful fluctuations. Nothing in t.his world so fills the soul with the sellse of eternity as to sail upon that ocean, day after day, and month after month. Nothing so strikingly impresses on us His all- pervading Providence and care of us, like that long-felt dependence on a little trembling needle of electric steel. I always recommended to those who crossed the great water8 to be devout for those souls who have perished ] 01 beneath them, aud perhap few think of them, though they are many. Then under that interminable girdle of sky and ,vater, one feels so little and so dependent. It is difficult not to increase devotion at sea. And then you will enter into a new ,vorld, ou a lle\V lanù, under \vho"i8 Ldlliallt ky you will have to begin life 311e\V, cut oft' from all old a sociations; and it is almo t like \vhat so many people wish, to Login chihlhood again, ,vith the advantage of an experience of life and of our nature luaturcù. Alas! you 111ay say, if it could be all renewed. "r ell, thp sacrifice made win do much to\vards this result. ,A.n entire :::-acrifice of ourselves for the love of God, and the very sundering of so many bonds, brings with it the grace of that renewal of life; you are all the more for God a:5 you have made yourselves less for every endeared creature. It is a sort of spiritual martyrdom. And o, wy dear Sisters, go forth in peace. God is with you, and may lIe ble s you. ßIay lIe enlighten your paths, and tlwell ill )?ou, and give you a great sense of His presence. ,jlay He bless your coming to the ne-..v home He has called 'you to euter, and make your \vorks fi"uitful. And way lie give many spiritual children to your prayers. .Frolll the two ends of the ,vorld the daughters of St. Iary's \vill chant their love to their heavenly Spouse, and lllay lIe fill up the interval between their choirs with the breath of His mercy, and reunite them there where they will always find each other, in His own ahllighty and most paternal heart. Then He will give you the great and final reunion, the s,veeter for ever for your brief separation. 'Vhen you tread that ground I have so often trodden; pray for me. Y onr devoted spiritual father, + 'V. R. ULL..\TI-IORNE. 102 To one nnder exterior trial. . We both have our perplexities of one kind or another. But they will humble us and do us good. 'rhe only ,yay through troubles is to keep calm and act to the best before God; leave results to His Providence, and all ,vill come out ,veIl . It is ill the ordinary course of thp Providence of Grace, that where great progre s is being made ill any work destined to be solid, purging trials should be added. It is the ,vill of God that you should approach ne,v undertakings ,vith sufferings and sorro,v. 'l'he door to them is made of the ,vood of the Cross. But is not this the ,vay of Christ our Lord? Have the Saints ever done much for God without fearful ::;ufterings? Our Lord left them t\VO things-His path of suffering and His peace. ouls cannot be brought to God, or religion planted, unless the instrument suffer. . In this ,vorld, ,ve cannot have things perfect a:5 we see the model in our mind. For the model is the light of God, and the poor copie are mortal and of frail . materials. Even a potter has ideas of vessels far more perfect than he can make them, for the idea is in his spirit, and he has to work it out ,vith mortal hands in dull clay. And so ,ve mu t not be anxious if ,ve cannot get things or persons perfect beyond a certain limit. It is the clay and the mortality that slip us at that point-and souls especially require time. Sl1 0 ength of Oharacter. All strength of mind is ill the truth of God, and all streugth of heart in the charity of God. Think of Him and love Him, and you will be strong with a double strength. Iind, I do not say you will be strong in your- self-quite the contrary. ...1. stl'ong-1nindec.l \voman is a 103 lTIl nel that is as cold and !=;tal'k as:J piece of iron; britt1e nevertheless, and breaking do,vn in pluce not expecteù. And 've al1 know what a wilfnl woman having her o,vn ay i . 'rrue strength is a Inost subtle force, neither stiff nor unbending, nor unyielding; nay it is ,vonderfully responsive to God, and pliant to all His ways. .A.nd in proportion as we enter into the truth and 10V'e of God, ,vhich are nothing else but God Himself imparted to us in the form of grace, the stronger we are in God and not in ourselves. Our Lord cared nothing at aU about having any human Rtrength in IIim; He 'val;) content \vith His divine strength. He nlÎght be strong; He chooses to be ,veak that ,ve lllay understand ,vhat a weak thing human nature is at its best, anù to show that all God's ,york may be done as well without human strength as with it. He might have legions to fight for Him, but He prefers letting the ,vorld deal with Him as it chooses. For all the strength of God is perfected and glorified in human weakness. }ly dear Child, Yon are going to your probation. rrhree principles 'vi11 carry you safely through if God has given you the unspeakable blessing of a vocation. These are, First, do your hest at whatever you are doing at the time: giving your whole mind to it. Second, be very open \vith your Superiors. 'I'hird, be generous of yourself in carrJing out the la,v of obedience. 'fhese three things will make you free, peaceful, and happy. As to the second point, never let anything brood on your mind, but out with it to whom it concerns to put you right. You will have an exceHent Novice )listres8, To a YO'llng lady entering her Novitiate. Birmingham, April 4th, ] 872. 104 alid if you give her your heart she ,vill do a good deal with it. Thank God you are going to an old Order, and to a ,veIl disciplined community, ,vhere so much unity and love reigns. God bless you, my dear child, and may Our Lord live in your heart and guide you to sanctity. Ever your-, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. To another Lady entering her Noritiate. A wise old A.bbot says-" Entering into the Order IS not much unless the spirit of the Order enters into you;" and the way to secure this is to ponder much upon the spiritual sentences of the Rule, making practice their comment. For those principles ,vhich they express are like to eyes which, set in your mind, give you a changed view of everything; and they are like sparks of new fire, ,vhich enkindle a desire to be formed of them. The religious vocation is a second conversion, as you will have already found. The first brought you to the Church; the second brings you into yourself face to face with the grace of those principles; and by turning the whole soul from the outward to the inward world, realizes that con- version of manners which finds the loss of the world's multiplicities 80 richly compensated in that high nourish- ment of the soul in the one pure light and grace of Christ, the one fountal source of all spiritual life to us mortals. The Rule is the law of life by which Christ Himself lived, and the more you live in it, and let it imbue your heart, the more will you have the sense and possession of our Lord Himself. Praying Our Lord to imbue your heart with the recollec- tion, humility, and unction of the Rule, that is, with the spirit of His Divine Heart,. + W. .B. ULLArl'HORNE. 105 .1 ....Vew Year's Greeting. Birmingham, Jan. 5, 1865. 1\1y dear Sisters in Christ, I must not pass this holy time \vithout a ,vord to let you kno,v that you live ill my mind; if I do not say in lny hoart, I suppose it is b0cause I havo not very much of that organ. 'Vith all that remains of it, I ,vish you a happy year, and good progress of c;oul. Ho,v time does run as one gro,vs old, and how the years seOtll to tread on each other, and how fast everybody is dying off! .... Surely tilue cannot be that long and tedious thing ,vhich people make it out, and we shall all soon see the end of it. Sooner or later, says Lacordaire, ,ve all come to think chiefly about souls. 'Ve get to see that they are the only things that enùure, or have life to C3.1'e for; and ,vhen we once get to think mainly of souls) then we como m.-tinly to think of Goù. Well, my dear Sisters", so you turn to take account of the past year. 'Vhen a tradesman takes his annual stock, it is to see how much money he has made; ,vhen a religions does so, it is to see ho\v much prayer he has Inade, for \vhat Inoney represents in COill- 1nerce, prayer represents in religion; it is representative of grace, of humility, of charity, of devotion. It is the fountain of all; it buys for us everything j it gives us humility, charity, God. It lifts us above t.ime and makes us careless of its inroads. Religion is that commerce which turns time even into prayer, and so I leave you to your own conclusions. If you wish to have God for your teacher and master, and to get above the miseries of time, you have prayer. And no,v may God bless you with the peace of prayer that you may have all else. Your devoted spiritual Father, + \,r. ß. ULLATliORNE. o too For All Saints' Day. Birmingham, October 31st, 1849. ly dearest Sisters in Christ, A happy Feast to you all ! 'fhe Church sings to-day of "ho,v many sufferings h9 ve all the Saints gone through that they may possess the l(ingdom of God." This strango ,vorld ,vith its mysteries of \vickedness and trouble is aU directed and guided to make a "few" Saints. This is the explanation of the mystery of this ,vorld. So many sorrows, so much hunger and cold, and danger, and st.rife, and hatred, and cunning, and fear, and scheming, is aU for this alone, that the children of the Kingdom n1ay C01l1P out of this furnace bright and unhurt, and clothed with merit. Very humble and simple-hearted children of God can alone clearly understand this Inystery in practice; and they must practise a great deal in the faith of obedience before they can take in such a light as this truth, to shine anything like the constant guiding lamp in their souls. When the grape is bruised and crushed, it gives out wine; when the olive is pressed, it gives out oil; when Christ was so treated, He gave out IIis blood; ,vhen the body, it gives forth obedience; ,vhen the soul, it gives forth humility, and the heart conceives charity like ,vine, and meekness like runn in g oil. May the Blood of Our Lord from the press of His Passion fill your heart with patience. ltlay the Saints all ask a blessing for you, and obtain you all a place in their nUD1ber. Your affectionate Ji'ather in Christ, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. 107 IlL-LETTERS ON THE SOCIAL A D POLITICAL .A.SPECT OP AFFAIRS. \.DDRESSED TO .A.}[ßROSE PHILLIPPS DE LISLE, BSQ. Hinckley, _\.pril 6th, 1850. III France they are struggling to get out of a dungeon and lllust take all they can get, in England the point is not to get into one. I fear that our ideal of a Christian state luust long remain unreali ed. :1Ionarchy is cvery\vhere coming do\vn, and even that state, both under the old and new la\v, sho\ved the holy monarchs as exceptions to the ordinary course. Our representative states are come do'wn nlore and more into the hands of luere natural men. And so long as this do\vllward conrse continues, the freedom of the church and of the family, each in its o\vn castle, are the only conservative elements, ,,,hether of maxims or iùea . The devil's grand attack i::; 1l0'V at the family, \vhich ovcr(Jhro\vn, there is no resting ground for the Church's freedoln. The factory system is in our o\vn country the great suúVerS01" of the faluily, luaking children at an early age independent of their parents. ÅLld to this the socialist doctrines \vhich systematise this fearful fact of our great to\vns, and cro\vn all this by a State education, and England is gone. I have much more to say in all this matter, should occasion call for it. It is my experience of the people in factory towns \vnich has opened IUY eyes on this subject. 'Ve are hastening on all sides to an epoch when Catholicisul and infidelity will stand front to front with but fc\v interluedia.tc clemcntti. 108 Birmingham, October 3rd, 1853. I thank you for the l5ight of .Abbé Gaume' letter. Tue one Ly Cortes is very remarkable; but I think, though not overcharged ,vith gloom if we take one side of the pict.ure, the state of the ,vorld, yet in the Church there is certainly much going on fraught with hope for the futuro, and not ,vithout present cOllsolation. A grand conflict is undoubtedly cOIning on, but the Church is prepnring also for somp great part; ill \vhat shape, does not to my feeble. sight precisely appear. A. great outbur:::;t reve lillg the \vorld to be thoroughly pagan \vould settle the question of paganisIll as within the Church. rrho question is debating ,vithin her border::;, and a, catastrophe \vould act upon the controversy like a revelation. 'Vho can doubt but that if \ve then had reached our present point ill the argument., that appalling event, the Frellch Revolutiou, alld the prillciples on ,vhich it ran, coming upon prepared eyes, ,vould have given a due sense of the cssential action ,vhich paganism (that is, corrupted and ullredeemed nature) must exercise upon humal1 souls as upon humall society. For ,vhat is this pagallism against which we contend, but fallen nature and its corruption ,vorked into subtle refinements of form, alld n1ade more ,vinlling and dan- gerous by being allied to beauty than if left to its intrill- sic grossness, ,vhether we speak of art or literature? The devil uses God's beautiful forms, beautiful in them- selves, and as allied by Him \vith innocence and beautiful harmonies, to clothe the pollution of pride as ,veIl as the putridity of sensualism, so to steal them into the soul. The most important point in thi:::; controversy beems to me to be most lost sight of by both parties in the COll- flict. The quecitioll of impurity is d\velt on. The pagan 100 side reply triumphantly, how :5111all a portion of the classics is impure. It should then be much dwelt upon tbat the whole spirit of the c1assics is the spirit of pride -the foulest of all spirit , as the most subtle and insinu.. ating from its remarkable delicacy, under its classic forms of expression. This is the true root of the controversy. ill them 11Jall is everything, especially the cultivated man. God is nothiug to him; grace has no existence. Hero- worship is the sole religion. It i::; nOll!Sense to say tl1at ,ve may Ï1nùibe beautiful forms without the substance of things in which they inhere. Corruption attracts cor- ruption, as earth attracts earth. And there is more in us of corruption to assimilate corruption than of the sense of beauty in form to attract and separate beauty of form. It is the pagan heart ,vith its self..dependence and self.. iùolization, and its refusing to have God in its kno,vledge, ,vhich pre ents to us in the classical school, both of literature aud art, the antagonism most dangerous to the Christian spirit in the souls of the many who so early fall under its dominion and o deeply imbibe its proud breathing . "\Yhilst I thus dw.ell on the substance, do I concede the question of form? By no means. In all created things form is greater than substance; for it rules and deter- mines both its character and its influence. It is that by ,,,hich alone ,,"e apprehend it. Take the finest forn1s cast in the n10uld of a pag ll mind alid expre sed by pen or pencil. It is a forIn of pride, or a form of sensualism, a conception of a Godle heart. It has no grace, no unction ûf God in it. And "hat is called grace, beauty, and even divinity, on close examination, will be found by the eye of a chaste and humble Christian to be Lut the p0se of a poor n10rtal mistaking himself for a God, yet but too trausparclit1J. however delicatelJ , rcvealiug the 110 pa::3sions of a mortal ,vithout the llualificatioll of that grace and faith ,vhich in the lowest and most unrefined of Christians reveals the hope of future union with Divinity. It is nonsense, I affirm, to say that a youth may drink in for seven years J day by day, hour by hour, the most Jelicate eBsence and aroma. of human pride, the gro,vth of hearts in ,vhich there ,va::; no God recognized, and most certainly no faith, in which there was the most dreadful pride and the most diabolical sensualism; itisrankllonsense, I say, to affirm that a youth, himself by nature inclined to pride and ,vith the root of it in his soul, imbibes not the pirit of pride in such a process. Pride is the prime essence of paganism, and its politics are rebellion or conquest. Birlningham, January 19th, 1858. Sorrow is chastening for the spirit as for the hearty and humble Christian; and our Lord has given you a portion of his own affliction. No devout Christian ,vas Pover a loser by his trials and sorro'vs. I ,viII say my Iass for your departed son ún Saturday next. It is a real gratification to hear that his Holiness has Inarked his appreciation of Ionsignor Gaume. I was half tempted to take the Rambler in hand again for its last silly article on the Plain Chant. But it was really so silly and self-contradictory that I have left it alone and reserved myself for some better occasion. 1\IeêuHvhile I am glad to observe that the corre::;pondence to ,vhich it has given rise is more moderate and reasonable than it used to be. I hear that Dr. 1\Ianning has adopted the chant ill his church 011 the score of its being cheaper anù more Inallageable than music. III Y onr remarkc:; on the anticlIristian spirit of tl}( temporal governor., of the ,vorld are but too f:adly true. I reaù the ne,vspapers ,vith a daily sense of misery. The light shines in darkness, and the darkness com- prehend it not. One thing, however, seems clear: God is using EnglanJ as His mallet to break up the unchristian ystem:s of the East, as he used the Goths to break up thp pagan system of Rome. Disruption is going on aU through the ,yorld J and I cannot but think that the Church is preparing ue,y elements for a renewed act.ion on a future order of things. On Thursday I had the pleasure of professing the first n un in Oxford J in the public chapel. Birmingham, Oct. 27, 1859. The social ,vorld is in an extraordinary state of unrest, anò \vhen the ruling po,vers applaud rebellion as the sanatory principle of the age, 'what can \ve expect frolll the multitude? ..:\.11 the principles of order are being broken up in the name of order. Great scourges and humiliations must precede ,vhat- ever great mercies may be in store for the race of men. 'fhe position of the Episcopacy of France is to me a sign of vitality, such as that country has not exhibited for many a day. And Napoleon is simply driving out of them the last relnains of Gal1icanislll and forcing theln on thp Pope. Italy must have its purgation, and I fear it will be a terrible one. 'Vhat a, spectacle is our own country, half shut out of continental politics, with its bragging press, and its ill- disguised uncertainties and apprehensions of future calami ty . It is a time, if ever, for all good men to adhere to Goù, "\Vho alone ha the key of aft tirs. 112 BirminghalllJ April 14th, 18ÔO. \Vith one point in that letter I can entirely agree, that the Church is punished for the sins of clergy and people. Yet do I think that mercy ,vill come out of those punisluuent:-;, and that the Church ,vill be invigorated through her humiliation. The Church as a ,vhole is certainly she,viug' a spirit far higher and more devoted than in the days of the first revolution. And the sympathy shewn in such unrnistakeable \vays in so many countries for the cause of the Holy See is a hopeful sign, and she,vs that her children, and especially the Episcopacy, are not dead or indifferent. Nay, the elements of a new chivalry are she\ving themselves in illustrious 19 ymen. And it is a sublime spectacle alnidst the miseries of ,vitne sing so complete an abandonment of all priuciples, religious, 1110ral, and political, amidst the statpsmen of Europe, to see the firm high stanù, the lofty principles, and heroic confidence in God J which the Pope evinces. I accept as the expression of my individual sentiments what the Pope said sorue time ago in a private audience-" I am neitl]er an optimist nor a pessimist; there ,viH be nlore trouble, bu t I anl satisfied with tbe situation." If you ,vill allow me to say so, I think and have long thought, ,vith many great l11en, and alnongst others, \vith Alban Butler, t\VO of ,vhose nfSS. letters I recently read on the subject, tbat nothing is more unsafe than to apply unfulfilled prophecies to passing events. Even Gregory the Great and other learned and dis- tinguished Fathers and Saints have thus been led to mistaken vie,vs of facts that ,vere incompletely developed. That the troubles of Italy are only in their commence- ment, I feel pretty certain, but I should be more inclined to tremble for the King of Piedmont than for the Pope. That Napoleon is preparing troubles for many nations, 113 I :-;uppo e no one (loubLs. Y ct God only know's ho\v all is to elld ill 1. few years. 'Vhat I feel it my duty to do is to stand by the Pope, as I conceive it is his duty to hold by the deposit of tClnporal possessions received from his predecc sor8, aud not to yield up to usurpers what they cannot take from him ,vithout great iniquity. It is one of our miseries that ,ve have no journal which can pro- cure authentic information of the acts of the Church's enemies. ...\.nd the pirit of lying has entered into their very bones, and is pursued like a science, upon a system. July 30th, 1860. Indeed ,ve live in awful times, but I think one of the lllQSt awful things in this country just now is the spirit of do,vnright and unblushing infidelity that is boldly manifesting itself in the Anglican Church. Have you seen the VoL of Revie\vs and Essays, published by Parker? The ,vorst infidelity of France under Louis the 13th is there put forth by six beneficed clergymen, all Oxford men. They simply deny the intervention of God in the Crea- tion; reject Creation itself, make the Bible a congeries of fictionR, and reduce all truth to the inward testimony of each man's conscience. The book i a hideous night- mare, and it has produced no sensation and is now in its second edition. A greater proof of the deadness of Anglican authorities there could not be. To what is this nation coming? One of the authorR i laster of Rugby, another is the Savellian Professor, a third is Professor of Scripture at La1npeter College, find the others hold benefices. l' 114. Birll1Ínghanl, November 2nd, 1860. When T saw the demise of your dear daughter announced, I immediately said Mass for her, and I sin- cerely condoled \vith you and Irs. Phillipps on your loss. T remember that dear gentle child very ,vell. I al:so had to close the eyes of my dear aud venerable mother about that time, alid have learnt ,vhat it is to have no one to look up to \vith a child's veneration in this world. What may be the result of the present complicities that surround the Holy See God alone knows. I am well persuaded that what is passing is working for some great future result, and some great present purification. The iniquities of the \vorld were never more palpable or instructive: and the abandonment of all laws, human and divine, by the powers of the world, never so un- blushing and shameless at any period of history. The seeds of revolution and rebellion are sown broadcast by rulers, in rivalry ,vi th the press and the secret societies. We are living beneath a deluge. But, to my thinking, the Emperor of France is the Ulan over \vhose machina- tions posterity ,vill have to grieve, and ,vhose dark deeds history will have to record in the darkest colours. llt) 1 V.-LETTERS OJ!' CONDOLENCE ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. On the delltlt of BC1.nal" 1 rltillipp. , IÞy accidenf on the ice, JanUrt1.y 11th, 1856. Bishop's llouse, January lÐth, 1856. Dear lr. Phillipp , It was only two days ago that I S3.'V in the TÍ1ne lle\YSpaper what a severe affl.iction had visited you and )[r . Phillipps. .A.nd I should have written to express 1HY condolence jf I had not received your letter. Bernard ,vas a child of so much promise. But our Ilcavenly Father, \vithout \Vhose permission not a hair of OHr head can be touched) has His O'Vll ,vays of showing love and Inercy, ,vhich it is not easy for us to see ,vhen the visitation i8 upon us, though I know with ho,v firm a faith you ,vill adhere to the ordination of His supreme will. Änù His Holy Spirit breathing \ isdom through the Divine Word has given us the motive on ,vhich our Heavenly Father acts in a trial like this:-"He was hurried away in his innoccnce, lest malice should obscure his unùer tanding, or deception should deceive his heart." \Ve cannot say he is dcad. Oh! 110. But he has begun his eternal life, and begun it with the freshness and bloom of his innocence all upon him. That ,vould we give to pa s into that life unscarred by carking cares, untouched of the ,vorlù, unblighted by the passions and sins of the developed man, in whom the ::,trength of corruption fights so hotly against the inspirations and attractions of the Divine grace. - part of yourselves has gone before you in to eternal life. lie lllU::;L anù ùoes dra\v ::;u much of your affections 116 in the same Divine direction. Your conversation, to use the ,yords of St. Paul, must be so far, and that is a great way, in heaven. God's love for the survivors is sho,vn in His love for the departed, \yho is not departed from God, but from this world to God; w ho ha not departed from you, for God is ,vith you, and he is \vith God; and when you seek him, you find God also, and when you seek God, you find him also. \..nd thus whilst the old stock of nature is suffering from the bleeding wound at which the tender branch is rent a\vay, the spiritual man is consoled, and reverently and lovingly finds ane\v in God, safe \vith Him and eternally secure, that loving child, a thousand times more loving his parents, whom the eye of nature looks for in vain. 'VYhilst, then, I condole with you) Iny dear friends, in the order of nature, I comfort myself in the order of grace. And I kno,v that you will offer and have offered to God that sacrifice of resignation, which is the most pleasing to the spirit departed, and to the God \vho has accepted him. Sincerely wishing you, Irs. Phillipps and family, the blessing of a year of grace and prosperity, I remain, dear 1\11'. Phillipps, Ever your obliged and devoted servant, + vV. B. ULLATHORNE. On the death of Evm'ard de L1isle Phillipps, who had 'won the Victoria Cross at the age of tu"enty-two, and was ldlled at the siege of Delhi, 8eptembm. 17th, 1857. The Priory, Little lalverl1, Nov. 19th, 1857. Dear 1\lr. Lisle Phillipps, The newspapers have informed me of the great affliction .which has fallen on you and 1\frs. l l1Ïllipps in the loss of 117 your dear and noble-hearted 01l. I can ay nothing to .) ou, UlY dear frieud=5, ,vhich God has not already said to your hearts at thi 1l10illellt of olemn visitation. " The Lorù gave, and the Lorù hath taken a,vay; ble-.:sed be the Harne of the Lord." He dicd ill hi::; duty; and ,vhiJst hi:5 heart retaincd it:: youthful generosity, and the early inlpre 8 of piety; he had Hot yet lived to reach those pO::5itious iu public life in which the soul i::; so often 'warped a \vay froln it::, simplicity. \Valking these hills, where I am at pre ent for my health, I have aid Inore than one d" lJrofundis for his oul, aud if I have not yet said mass for him, I shall not dc1ay what lies on me like a duty until it be fulfilled. I pray God to give you the grace of strength and of divine love in thi:5 and all your trial::;, and wishing you and all your fttlliily the blessing of God, I remain, dear ßlr. Phil1ipp , Your devoted servant in Christ, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. To a father who had lost his 8un. J aD. 5th, ] 865. .A.lthough all your friend::; ,viII feel for you as well as myself, aud none more than I do, yet for your child one can only bf' thankful for his deliverance. H e ha had a martyrdOll'l of purification to send the desires of his young heart before hinl, and then he ,vent. Au innocent life terminated ,vith no other pa sion than that of ufiering anctified, and an exit amidst the prayers of Christ's spouse , ,,,ith all supernatural helps, I::, a sublime gain, even if that life ,vas not longer than that of St. Agnes. I recently said to 1. P. on the ubject of this very child, that the older I gro"r, the Inore l"learJy 1 ee that ,,,hat we 118 have more than anything else to thank God for in thi world is to see anyone, at whatever age, go in happy faith and charity out of it; for that is the one end for \vhich ,ve came into it, and, when the true end of lllortallifc is ,veIl accomplished, God i to be very much praised. . . . . . . I remain your affectionate friend and servant in Christ, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. To a religious cornm'ltnity on the death of theÚ" P1"i01.ess. .àIarcb 5th, 1868. l\Iay she rest in peace. A great loss; a great gain; a loss for you irreparable, a gain for that large soul unspeakable; and yet, in oue sense, a gain for you, to have one ,vith God ,vho can never live anywhere \vithout always doing what she can to save her children':5 souls. On the death of O. 'inuna de Lisle, Oct. 17th, 1869. Birmingham, Nov. 5th, 1869. I Y dear Ir. de Lisle, Your great loss, aud 'v hat you and Ir . de Lisle must have been feeling, have frequently run in my mind. Yet ,vhat a consolation you have in having sent this saintly boy to heaven. For if there was a pure, innocent) and holy youth in thi world, it was your son O:Sillund. It ,,,,as not the negative, but the positive virtues and marks of holiness that so much endeared him. He 'vas given to prayer and to devotioll, to meekncss and to gentleness, to duty and to loyalty, in a way that I never sa,v exemplified before in one of his age, nor did the critical period of J'outhful life, 'v here it merges into manhood, disturb the serenity of his heart, which alway a ppcared to r st 011 God for it vital strength and repose. 11 Yon are a happy fat1H.,'r to hav0 suell childrC'B in heaven, with such childrén on earth to imitate them. And ,vhen it is God who tries you, it is God who ,viI] repair the breache rnade in the probation. I leave for Rome on the 1 Uth, having to wait for a public meeting on the Education question, on the 15th inst. I thank you for your good ,,,,ishes. All the faithful help the Council by their prayers, and surely never did a Council bf\gin untler bettrr auspices. I firmly believe that the practical sense of the Bishops ,vill inspire moderation in our councils, and that the tendencies of the age ,vill have all our consideration. In other words, that prudence ,vill sho,v its force in whatever is decreed. 'Vith kindest regard::;, and most siucere sympathy both to rrs. de Lisle and yourself, I remain, dear 111'. de Li lc, Your faithful servant in Christ, + "T. R. ULLA THORXE. On flle dt;utlt u..f Lady Ohatterton, to her;' husúund. Birmingham, February 7, 18í6. )ly dpar Ir. Dering, I was un,villing to obtrude upon your first pains after the wound of separation. But no'v as your Bishop and your affectionate friend I venture to do so. You know that from the time of our acquain tance I had a true regard for, and have taken a genuine interest in your departed companion. You know like\,ise that what I am now' ,vriting comes from both heart and head. N ot,, ithstand- ing the desolation that comes upon such a privation, and that so sudden, you have much to console you and for which to thank God. 120 I kno,v ,vhat your solicitude hfls been, and your prayers for her conversion. .A.nd God ha anfHvered them. You kno1v ,,"hat an accun1ulated load of early and acquired prcfjndice she had to thr01V from off her naturally si1nple and single mind, ,vhat quantities of the scales of false kno\vledge she had to detach from her, and \vhat importunities of assiduous friend she had to repel. Well, God enabled her to do all that, and ,vith agonized efforts to bring her mind and heart to the Church and to God. Her state of oul must be measured by all the in tellectual and 1110ralligatures from which she had to break, and by all the habits of life she had to reverse, and that in her suffering state of health. You cannot but be conscious that God has employed you as His chief instrument to bring about her union with the Church of the Saints. She spoke freely to me on that point, and with great simplicity and fcrvour of affection. 'Ve are not to judge her as if she had been a trained Catholic. God visited her-she opened her heart; grace entered into it, and she strove on to,vards greater light, and practice of the Catholic faith, ,vhich had become sealed in her soul. 'Vhen I last came over to Baddesley, it ,vas, to say no\v the truth (though I made another excuse at the time) principally to see ho\v she was progressing-hoping to help her if needed. I then saw that she had broken her shynes8 about the outward expression of her faith, and ,vas hearty in it-and I ,vas satisfied. I sa,v that all ,vas coming by degrees frolll the il'terior to the exterior, and that \vhen on parting from her in the carriage on 1ny previous visit, she sent for me back, expressed to me her gratit1.lde, knelt down and asked my blessing, and I made a cross on her bro'v with my finger, a shell had been broken. She had a strong feeling that she "\vould die thig yea.r- 121 are not such ilnpressions such as guardian angels 111ake? She ,vas therefore ,veaning her elf from her old ,vorld, and looking forward. Her asking for the Ro:::;ary \vas as complete an act of Catholic faith as could be made; it placed her dep rture under our Blessed )lother's protection, and she received the unction of Christ's death in the last of II is Divine Sacraluents. IIo\v kind and ho\v charitable she was! and how her heart was sot aftPf her conversion on benefiting religion! That you know best, but it is worthy to be recalled. I think from me all this will give you consolation. )Iay her dear soul rest in that light and peace of God for ,vhich ;:;he craved, and ,vhich God gives to an Hi,:; children ,vho seek Him \vith desire. Al ways your affectionate friend, + 'V. B. ULLATHORNE. To Lady Oathe1"iae Berkeley, on the dea.th of her uncle. Birmingham, August 10th, 1876. Dear Lady Catherine, I have not forgotten your pious uncle, who has so happily run his course. \Vhen the end of life is well- gained, there is every ground for congratalation. The "praise after life, the exultation after reaching port" of Chrysostom, is here justly due. Such souls, ,vho have taken an interest in us in life, are not lost to us, but come llearer to us, and are better u:ader tood, and help us better in their state of freedom, being of those "just made perfect," of ,vhom St. Paul says, that to them we are already come, their spirit being nearer us than in the ll1ortallife. 4 122 1 u Il'e stlme J un tJ,e Ji;;alh ùJ' ht r daughft:'J", Leu7!! (1a IIIpdeu. Birmingham, December 26th, 1877. Dear Lady Catherine, It is so very kind on your part to remember me on all occasions. I ,vas glad to have the photograph of your dear, holy, innocent child. Often have I thought of :1Iother fargaret's very special interest in her, and fee] the conviction that .:;he could do something for her, and 1 still believe that she did exercise an influence for her sanctification. Such an unexpected departure from this world, so young. and untouched of the ,vorld, does seem to nature, and singularly to maternal nature, a reversing úf the order of things, and the wound of separation, where love is intense, is very keen. But then, and after an, what is the ,,,,hole object of thi!S short life but preparation? and ,,,,hen pre- paration is completed, what good of life is so great or crowning as to end the probation well, and to obtain eternal life ? 'rhen ,vhat a thing it is to have passed out of this world untouched by its sordidness and Ineanlless; never, for ever, to have kllo,vn in real, personal experience, of its vile contaminations! If there was ever a child of Adam ,vho carried innocence in her face, it ,vas Augusta, and carried it unchanged through her short married life. I am sure, as I am of anythinp-, that dear 1\Iother far- garet, ,vho suffered so much and so long for so many souls, prayed very much for that child, and that there has been a blessed meetin g. I pray God to bless you, Ir. Berkeley, and aU your good children with the abundant blessings of this holy time, remaining ahvays Yours very faithfully, + VV. B. ULLA'l'HORNE. 123 To Jlrs. de Lisle dz riny the last illness of he? husbantl. Birminghalll, Feb. 10th, ] 878. }.[y dear 1\lr8. lIe Li le, I thank you for lettÏng n1e kno\v ho\v Ir. d(' Lis1e is progre sing. Dr. N orthcote sent TIle Edwin's letter, ,vhich gave a sad account of his state. I have said t,vo masses for him, have asked several convents to pray, and ren1ell1ber him daily. A llW,U of faith and charity gro,vs rich 011 suffering, and deepens all his spiritual po,vers by greater detachment, and greater nearness to God. For the poor mortal curtain thins; and. the insight into the eternal things so close to us is both clearer and firmer, even though one cannot ahvays be without the distraction of mortal pain and ,veakness. But someho'vall that is ,vorking detachment. I send lny dear good friend my bo t wishes and blessing, and hope you do not ,vear yourself to infirmity, having so great a charge upon you. I pray God to bles yon and n 11 your family and remain, 1 y dear 1\11'8. de Lisle, Alway::; your very faithful servant and friend, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. To the sa1ne on the death of he., husband. Dear lrs. de Lisle, I said mass for the sou1 of your dear departed husband on Saturday. After his long sufferings he has gone to his re t. He did a great work in his day, and did it with a siulplo aud pure heart. One 111USt look back to his earliost days to see how religion took hold of hinl, and how' fa.n1Ïly pusition and all l'l e in thp ,vorld ,vere as Birmingham, l\larch 11, 1878. 124 nothing in his eye ,vhen he heard in his soul the call of God. One must remember his early days \VhCll he thre\v himself 'with childlike fervour into the ,york of restoring monasticism, and of boldly bringing the Catholic religion into open vie\y, at a time when others had not the courage or generosity of these things. One must remenlber what his example did in setting others to work to lift up the prostrate condition of the Faith in this land. One must recall the influence he exercised on the Oxford men at the time of the Tractarian lnovement. One must recall the days when Dr. Gentili \vas his co-operator in evangelising the people, a work that fitted that remarkable man for breaking through the old and timid condition of missionary ,vork} in his wonderful career as a missioner in all the Churches. One lnust look at fount St. Bernard as ,veIl as Grace Dieu} at Loughborough, at Shepshed} at 'Vhitwick} before ,ve come to Garendoll. One must recall his love of the chant} that solemn song of the Church} and his popularising St. Elizabeth among us. 'Through discouragement and failures and successes he went on the sanle froln the beginning to the end. I kno\v something of his sacrifices, and something of the difficulties that come upon sacrifices} to give life the taste of trial. I kno\y also the blessing he found in hi marriage} and ho\v grateful he ever was for tbat ble sing; tho happiness he had in his family, and to wholn next to God he ascribed it. fy dear frs. dp Lisle, I know what you have lost} and I kno\v what a brave heart you have. But such a union as yours, however holy, is not visibly broken \vithout a great laceration of nature, and God alone can heal such wounds. Your happiness is to kno\v that he lived for God} and for religion before all things, and that God has care of His O'Vll. You know also that spirits which love each other are even liore united when bodies ]25 arc eparateù, ëtlHl that they even know each other better, and in a more beautiful light; that there is, in fact, no separation with such spirits, which arc always in God. \Vhat afte}9 all is the object of this life but to end it well ? ...\.ud ,vhen it is ,veIl ended, and the eternal life ,vell begun, ,yhat a subject i there for thanksgiving. 'ro all the Juembers of yonI' fatuilyas to yourself, I ofter the respectful and reverential condolence that exists in my heart, and I pray God to bless yon find to strengthen you, and to console you and all your children. Thus I relnain, ùear Irs. de Lisle, Your very faithful servant in Christ, + 'V. B. ULL,-\THORNE. 011 the deatl) of the Second P1.ovincial of the Sisters o.l the Tll ird Orde.). of fit. D01ìlÍnic, fo one of her near )"(:laIil:e8. 08cott, October 16th, 1881. )ly dear -, The unexpected departure of dear :1Iother Provincial will be a great blo,v to you, as it is to me; although I aUI resigned at every point, and would not for a moment have delayed her happiness, yet it has taken strong hold of me. 'Vhat must it be to you, to whom she was, and is, ::;0 very ùear. I much regret that I cannot ,vith any prudence go to Stone in this very cold weather, and have consequcntly rcquested Bishop 1181ey to preside at the Requiem; on what day I do not yet kno,y. The Sisters throughout the Congregation ,vill be overwhehned at the loss of one who ha done so ll}uch for them, aud been so nUlch to them. I have atldressed to them a geupralletter. I have directed the bOlly to be placed side 126 by sidè that of Iother l\Iargaret; for be ides their great l ve for each other, be ;Ïdes her having carried on the work so perfectly since the other's departure, I look upon them as jointly the founders of the Congregation, and I kno,v that the feelings of the Sisters will be my o,vn in this lllatter. Cardinal N e,vmall in R, note to me, in ,vhich he call:5 this news over,vhelming, says truly-(( Dear Sister Imelda has earned her release from long service, but it is hard for her children." She ,vas the lllost just and beautiful character I ever knew, aud so completely effaced herself in all she did, and left much in the souls of the Sisters which no one else could have placed there. Her dear ilnage is before me wherever I turn, and my eyes moisten ,vith tears, yet I am content ,vith her departure and ,yould not have it otherwise. Gùd will provide. It ,vould bo idle of me to talk of sympathy to one ,vho feels as I do, or to suggest to you what is already in your mind, heart, and resignation. I pra.y God to bless you and console you, and remain, 11y dear-, Yours most affectionately, + 'V. B. ULLATIIORNE. To a Lady on the same occas on. St. Iary's, Oscott, October 17th, 1881. To you as to an intimate friend I ,vrite on occasion of a great loss and a great gain ,vhich has follo,ved lilY golden jubilee. You will remember in the life of :ßJ other largaret how often it speaks of the one whom she ,,,as training to succeed her; that most beautiful soul ,,-ent up to heaven last Friday, and her pure body ,vas placed side ) ')... - , hy fo:idl\ 'with lother [argârct' thi!-i ùa), where he knelt so often, and so often kissed the tomb where that great soul has her body laiù. Before she left Stone for ever, some three \veeks ago, she said to the Sisters one by one ill private, (C ...\.fter all the graces \ve have receiveù in the Bishop's retreat and the General's visitation, some great cross I feel is coming to you, I know not ,vhat; but be very faithful." A ,veok before she left to visit her house in Devonshire, quite in health, she took fother Priore s to the Cemetery and showed her the place where she ,vished to be laid. She is the lother Provincial. At St. :Jlary's Convent in Devonshire, she was taken ill of inflammation of the lungs and died in fe\v days as sweetly as she had liveù. Her character is perfectly dra,vn in the fe\v following lines, written to me by the lother Prioress of Stone, the well known authoress, from the side of her body after she had expired. (C I can but thank God for suffering me for these many years to have known a heart whose purity, justice, self-sacrifice, and tenderness surpasses all I could have guessed of as possible. Never during the thirty years I have enjoyed her intimate confidence, have I known our Iother to act save from principle. It was an angelic soul, and no ,yonder her devotion to the holy allgel was f:50 intense and familiar." Had you ever seen her, ) ou would have been struck with her spiritual beauty and s\veetness. Yet the gentleness of her modest demeanour covered a man's mind, and a man's learning and judgment. She never spoke of herself, not even to me, except in the COli- fessional. But once she told me (:;he ,vus a convert afÜ:r 30), that from her 1 !th year until she entered religion at about 33, she had suffered iutensely and even unceasingly from the desire to devote herself wholly to God. In 128 her novitiate, )10the1' )Iargaret gaye he a severo humiliation about her learning, and sent her to work in the kitchen. She replied: H Dear Mother, I have learnt e\"erything but humility, and I have come to learn that here." She had sTudied in the Greek and Latin classics (Plato indeed helped her, as he did St. .Augustine, into the Church) j had a great and accurate know1edge of the Scriptures; was versed in the sen e of the great spiritual "riters; knew the di\ ersities of the great religious rules, and was a good canonist in what concerned Religious, a:ld wrote three languages with facility. She drew up the Constitutions of the Congregation from the great sea of Dominican law, including that of the general chapters f'ince 1212; it passed under the revision of the General and hi... Council without alteration, and has obtained a celebrity in the Order. She has governed the congrega- tion ince 110ther lIargaret's departure, with a justness, power, and sweetne s that is marvellous. Ko sister had a thought from her, and everyone of them has within her a treasure and a light which, under God, has been received from her. The unity, love, and loyalty of all the sisters without exception, some one hundred and forty of them, has alwavs been wonderful. Her very presence brought light wherever he appeared. Her temporal was equal to her piritual administration; she was strong in practice, calm in judgment, sweet in affection, gentle in w'ord and life. 'Vith perfect innocence from childhood she knew all the \vay of vâckedness, none of which ever touched her. In short, I am describing the most harmonious, and, therefore, perfect character I ever knew. The last words of lIother :JIargaret to me on her death-bed ,vere of her; she said, "there never ,vas a better woman." She was my dearest friend, and through the e long year I never "aw a fault in her, even h " 129 accident, nor an error of jnd _n. í ou may im e, my dear cIDld, wha: I have felt. ry ey - run-e been moist wi h - 5 do:n,5' he5e day no of r :; _ bu of consolarion, for h r hen :- .11 im ::e is 1W y-:= be. re me. I wi>nld n - ha\"' d ined !1_r one mome rom her happiue5;:; 5he is IwaY5 radian be ore e. then haye all her chil !1 !=.d : e fe !1d:>u :.-....00. "e- all the Prior\... _'" wri e b'l he, beha,e 8d-1Ï bl . . .. ome thir y 0 ht:ir I ... er lie before me; h =_ I -- are full 0 d ,ou'" d ec.. .onat_ n.rrend,-r 0 heir dê'a. 5 mo er to God d of;::- ri ode for all h ha bee:} to hem. It Ï5 the fir5 rime I h"\ e been -;:eparated from hem in a ," trial; far trayelling in thb cold w ther.- cia!l::: _ro - for me: ""t: hoW'eY'er dearly they ould ha\"'e wi5hPd my p _Dee they all ... J ff We eel or YOU more '!l for oar elves, but do no come. We mo.s- no I 3.... )Iother and Father both.' To J[ s. . 1 0 11 d Li ul nQ I t -1I , I r ß R .1 K , . , a ..., 0'00 i, Jan. ïth. 1 . '1y dear Mr . de Li;:l e " I am in full5-ymp -hy with you in your deep -row o, r the }C-: of your dear on Rudolph. I "\Yill be a gre-" C :1- ;;; )}3. .on iD you to h8,e known h - he rt?'Cei,ed the B' .;:;: Sacrament before 5-:..1rnn on the eam1'..;.... . I - -:\:d the holy sacrifice for hl dear 5-onl on 'sa:llrd:1,la5:. tbe Reyd. C'1ergy of the College 8"!ld th 5i' who had Á:: ) him. h,\ye been mo ed with ::.=>rrow and --\1llnathis.e w:: his mother and hi- relsri,e,. B liBRARY ST. ARY S COLLEGE 130 He was a generous, heroic youth, devoted to his profession, full of the sense of duty, living in the grace of God. I can only say: "He was taken a\vay lest malice should obscure his understanding, or fiction deceive his soul." 'fhe ways of God are unsearchable. He calls those ,vhom He loves. I pray God to bless and console you, and remain, my dear frs. de Lisle, Your old and devoted friend, + 'V. B. ULLA'rHORNE. To the same on the sa'tne. St. fary's Priory, Princethorpe, June 30th, 1885. 1\.fy dear frs. de Lisle, 'fhallk you for the copy of Lord Charles Beresford'R letter, ,vhich, ho\vever, I had seel! before. I think you can have no more suitable person to ,vrite an account of Rudolph than fr. Oxenham, if he will undertake it. It \vould be ,veIl done, and the author's name \vould secure attention. If a similar account could be added of his soldier brother, it would much increase the interest. Stories of yonng heroes have al \vays a fascination for English minds, and the lives of these chivalrous youths ,vonld be valuable examples to quicken the spirits of other youths in these dreary days of selfishness and sensuality. God has stripped you, my dear friend, of one leaf after another of your noble life, and given you many trial , but they ,vill all be restored to you agail1 in one glorious cro\vn, and your tears will be turned to joy. 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Y uu are in the hands of God, and God will have care of you. \Vha;t an extraordinary thing that the Archbishop of Sydney is to be made a Cardinal. \Vhen I look back to the year 1832, \vhen I had to struggle, helped only by two priests, ,vith the demands of that vast country, and no,v I see a. great hierarchy of Archbishops and Bishops, and a Cardinal at their head, I aln amazed, and feel as if I ,vere a piece of antiquity in modern times. To a yentlenLan who had lost his wife. St. rary's College, Oscott, April 27th, 1886. 1ly dear -, I have just heard of your loss and privation in the departure from this ,vorld of your excellent and much respected wife, and wish to convey to you aud your bereaved family my deep sympathy in this great trial. There i8 no Oile for ,vhom I had a greater respect; I shall pray for her at the Altar, aud shall remember all those ,vhom she ha::> left to mourn her loss. lay God bless and console you; the remenlbrance of her virtues ,vill be the inheritance 01" her children. Believe me ) our most faithful friend, + 'V. B. ULLATHORNE. 132 V.-LETTERS FRO)! ROME. The Advent Se'r?nons before the Papal Oourt. Rome, 1861. In the calamities of Italy, the Bishops and Clergy as a body are acting nobly. Almost all the Bishops have written letters ,vorthy of the times of the Fathers, to the Government of Piedmont. rrhe Government is bringing prosecutions on account of some of these letters. In short, the Church in its trials has exhibited a sound condition ,vhich consoles amid the horror::; of this atheistic revolution. Strange it is, how fe,,,,, men can throw the world into confusion, ,vhen God permits it. It ,vill be seen at the last day ho,v w'eak society is with all its pride, 'v hen God intends to punish or to prove it. Father Luigi di rrrento is preaching the Advent Sermons to the Papal Court. He is a truly apostolic man. And it is a fine thing to see a poor Capuchin ,vith simple dignity telling plain truths to Pope, Cardinals, and Bishops. His first discourse was on Adoration as the source of Light.. It has always truck me that the constant interrfution of the Cardinals and Prelates in their deliberations by public functions must be a great safety against being too much carried a,vay by nature. Since writing the above, I have been to hear the second Advent Sermon of Fr. Luigi. He preaches in the rrhrone Room of the Vatican, and from the throne itself. rrhe Pope i:::, in a secluded closet. The Cardinals, Bishops, and Procurators of Orders are the audience. It was a lllagnificent discourse on the force of prayer in governing the Church, and carrying its rulers through its trials. It was truly sublime; thi::3 p00r friar ]33 speaking in the name of God to the Head and Princes of the Church with the spirit of a prophet, and as he spoke in God's name, so he spoke by the very throne of His Vicar. These constant function::; at the Vaticau serve many incidental purposes, as ,yell a:-3 the chief one of sanctifying the rulers of the Church. These grand ceremonies are at once exercises of prayer, charity, and meeknesB, and I often think that meekness is one of the characteristics of Catholic Rome. The C1.ib and the Cross. Rome, Christmas, 1869. r.rhe High 1ass at St. Peter's surpassed its usual grandeur owing to the presence of the Council in their silver copes and mitres of fine linen. Amid all the magnificent splendom", one could only reflect that it symbolized the glories ,vhich are destined to be the final issue of the Crib and the Cross. It ,vas the Crib of our Lord that was glorified, and one ,vent back to that bundle of old ,vood that is kept at St. 1\lary 1\fajor's, for the interpretation. rrhere are tw'o bundles of old ,vood kept in Rome, more priceless than all her splendours; one is at St. Iary Iajor's} and the other at Santa Croce. And close by the old manger is the Pillar of Scourging, kept in tho house of St. Peter's spiritual daughter, herself a lllartyr of the Cross. And, that the .l\lother and l\listress of all Churches may not ,vant its glory, close to St. John Lateran are the Holy Stairs ,vhich Jesus and His persecutors alike ascended, on ,vhich St. John followed Him, down ,vhich St. Peter came from the saddest of divine and human spectacles. The trumpet::; may entrance 134 the kneeling multitude, ,vhen, under the nlarvellous don1e, the Vicar of Christ lifts up the God of heaven and earth in his mortal hands; but the Crib, the Stairs, the Pillar, and the Cross explain it all. I ,vent ,vith Bishop Vaughan to see the great relics at Santa Croce, ,vhich always does me a great deal of good. They bring us so near Our Lord and His terrible humiliations, and pierce one through ,vith a sense of the need of sacrifice to break do\vn the old Adam ,vith his pride and sensuality, and to break us open for the posspssion of the new man and the Holy Spirit. '1'hen the Holy Crib looks so very like the Holy Cross as if it were part and parcel of the saIne instrument of sacrifice and the same life of abnegation and suffering. These are the great things of Rome-greater than the Coliseum, greater than St. Peter's even, for they ,vill shine in heaven at the last day ,vhen the great ,yorks of men have perished. Papal blessing at Easter. Rome, April 18th, 1870. Thank you for your letter and your Paschal greeting. Yesterday 8t. Peter's ,vitnessed such a spectacle a ,vas never ,vitllessed before-all agree in saying that neither the canonization nor the Pope's jubilee was at all equal to it. '1'he 800 mitres, the huge temple closely packed, and at the Pope's blessing from the loggia in front, the ,vhole colonnade, the square beyond, and streets do,vn to St. Angelo, one pavement of hUlnan heads. The vineyard rising on the right of St. Peter's, and the house tops were covered with people. ]1y position, on the top of the colonnade in front of the Vatican, enabled lne to see 135 aU thi \VOl1l1rons spectacle from one point. 'fhe Pope's voice, ,vith his eighty years, 'Va::; clear and trong; one heard every word of the absolutions, and when he exalted his arms and voice for the benediction, the voices of that sea of people, ,vhich had been as the sound of many ,vaters, ,vere hushed; all ,vent down, and no sooner had the last ,vords expired than the roar of voices ascended, the cannon roared in concert, the bell::; of all the churche clanged, and almost drowned the martial music of the regimental bands, ,vhich 'v ere gathered in a cluster bet,veell the two great fountains that throw up their ,vaters into the air day and night. I stood beside an English minister of State, the First Lord of the ...:\..ùmiralty, who ,vas quite overpo,vered ,vith the scene, and ,vent ùo\vn bareheaded for the ble sing. A.t night came the illumination of St. Peter's, as if the stars had come do,vn to adorn the great telnple with their light, anù to mark out it architectural features. 1'he sudden change after an hour, beginning from the top of the cross, made the huge pile a mountain of quivering fire. Fro-night is to be the fire,vorks from ..ßlount Pincio J and on 'Vednesday is to be the illumination of the city. All the squares aud open places have had structures erected in them for a month past, for the occasion. \Ve hope on Lo,v Sunday to have a ses'5ion for the final voting of the fresh decrees of the synod. 'fo-morrow ,ve meet for giving the placet a second time on amendtnents" put in at the last voting by placet. 'V have already had to deal with 386 proposed alLelldlnellts on four chapters, and have now 130 more to deal ,vith on the same; so you may conjecture it is not all idlene::5 . It takes up\vards of two hour for every Bishop to give his placet or non placet a::) the name of his see is reaù out from the pulpit. But the 136 preliminary votings on amendments by rising and sitting are more animating a good deal. A Bishop from the pulpit gives an exposition of what has been done in the special Congregation, and what they recommend; then each pro- posed correction is read. All who are for it rise, ,vhilst those against it remain seated. 'Vhen their numbers have been noted they sit, and the opposites rise up, and so on for some three hours and a half together. 'Ve have recently had a fortnight of this work, but after Easter we shall begin discussions once more (the second course of discus- sion, on the second part of the first schema), and probably have to write on other points at home to be sent in. It is bright weather at last, but the air is cold, and sno,v is till on the lllountains. It is c01nmonly supposed ,ve shall have a suspension of the council at end of June for three or four month . I shall hope then to get home for that period. 'Ve shall have close and hard ,york in the in terval. The Oouncil, 1870. 1.'he nlore T see of this Council, the l110re sure I feel that great things ,vill come out of it. It ,vill give much light both to Catholics and to those seeking the Church. .And there is due consideration shown to those ,vho are in a state of blindness. As to discipline also, very valuable principl s ,vill be cleared up and sound regulations based upon them. Tuus the discussions are enlightening all parties, and each portion of the Ohurch is teaching the rest. Even the intense curiosity pervading the exterior world touching the Council, and the agitation and exaggeration of the ,va rId's journals, are preparing the world itself for receiving the work of the Council when it shall at last appear, in such 3. way as to make the 1 7 deepest ilupression un human minds. No Council will have ever shown such clear expositions of Catholic principles, or have dispelled so many erroneous impressions as to the real spirit of the Catholic Church. Rome: The Oatacolnbs, 1870. We stood in the damp and desolate vaults amid broken inscriptions, breathing simple faith and tender love of God's Saints; amidst the men and women who had lived with Peter and Paul, or had heard all about them from those ,vho had lived with them. What pathetic sermons, ,vhat tales of suffering and triumph must have been heard under these rude vaults, in these fresh little underground churches! One of these early paint.. ings is supposed to represent St. Pudentiana receiving the veil from St. Peter. It may be so; or it may be some other early dedication of ,voman's heart to Our Lord. 'Vhat did not religion cost in those days! when no cloister, no religious mother, no choir received the spouse of Christ; but in her own house, in some room apart, she lived alone, and ìooked to reach God alone through the bloody door, by the axe, or the iron claws, or the rough.. edged s\vord of some pagan slave. And here lies all that remains of those brave and generous-hearted victims of eternal love, who founded the life of con.. secrated virginity in their burning charity, and bathed it at its roots in their life-blood. 138 VI.-1ÜISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. .After the death of M'1'. P'IIgin. Birmingham, Oct. 10th, 1852. Dear Mr. Phillipps, I wish very much to see something written about Pugin, to show how completely his genius sprang froln and was directed by religion. But I have not time for it. 'fhe article in the Ohronicle ,vas by Beresford Hope. I think something good and telling might be ,vritten upon him, for there are fine materiaìs, especially to be derived from those who were constantly conversant ,vith him. A something, I mean, which might be a lesson to our artists and architects. To Messrs. Ha'rdman 9" Co. in thanks 101. valuable gifts to the Oathedral. Bishop's House, Easter Sunday, 1854. My dear and esteemed Friends, I feel that I cannot express to you, as I could wish, ho,v deeply I appreciate the munificent offerings 'with which you have just adorned the Cathedral Church of this Diocese. The magnificent candlesticks for the High Altar, the elevation candlesticks with their beaut.iful branches, the most graceful I have ever seen, the t,velve torches, and the beautiful lectern, all of so costly a character, and of the finest design of the late lr. .Pugin, as you justly observe, complete the fittings of the first great church of the great restorer of Christian art. .And it is as pious as it is graceful to associate your offerings to God and to His 1;) House, whose beauty you so well love, ,vith the menlory of that extraordinary mall, whom, in a very elevated sense, you call your master as wcll as friend. Your wishes respecting the regulation of the use- of your pious offerings shall be religiously attended to. I have signed the list of appointcd days attached to your letter, and it will be placed ,vith the letter itself, and a copy of this, in the piscopal archives. 1 earncstly pray Almighty God to bless and to continue to increase His blessings upon )"our most Catholic labours, and upon your families as \vell as upon yourselves. It is my intention to say lass in each alternate week uutil next Ea:::;ter, if God continues me in life, for the families of .ilIr. Hardman and the lessrs. Po\vell j and on the other alternate weeks I propose to offer the Holy Sacrifice for the repose of the soul of 1\11'. Pagin, and of the souls of the departed members of your families. And fervently praying ...\.lmighty God to give you the blessings of this holy season abunùantly, I remain, illY dear Sirs, Your obliged and devoted servant and Bishop, + \V. B. ULLArr'HORNE. To John Hardman, \Villiam Powell, jun., and James Powell, Esqrs. Leffel. 0,/ tlHudú; IV1' a yift frorn the workmen etnployed by the same jirm. Bishop's House, Easter Sunday, 1854. Dear :\11'. Hardman, If I have not yet given expression to the feeling of gratification, and to tho thanks \v hich I o,ve to the donors of the A.rtists' 'Vindow offered to St. Chad's Cathedral it , has not been hecau e they have pa ed from IllY winù. 140 I take this holy season, ,vhen the Cathedral has been clothed with so many new and beautiful ornalnents, as t.he fittest on which to express to those pious and generous artists and workmen, how much I appreciate their gift, and that zeal for St. Chad's at all times, of ,vhich that gift is a permanent memorial. Whether considered for its intrinsic value, or for the art and skill displayed in it, or for its haying been a great ornament in the mediæval court of the Dublin Exhibition, or, which is its greatest value, for its moral associa. tions as a religious oblation, and as the generous offering of the artists and workmen of your establishment, the Artists' vVindow 'v ill ahvays be one of the n)ost interesting ornaments of St. Chad's. And not only interesting but equal1y instructive. For it is an exhortation to others not to confine their love of the beauty of God's house to a mere barren admiration of the offerings ,vhich more generous souls have made. 'Vhen the celebrated colonnade which runs from the city of Bologna to the Church of Our Lady was erected, a work full t\VO miles long, each trade, each craft, each art, and each profession, gave its quota of columns and arcades to that great ,york. Let me express a hope that the exanlple set in these modern times, of the old mediæyal devotion, in a form so real and so unmistakeable, by those ,,,ho have ,yorked in the revival of Christian art in the Christian spirit, will not stand solitary; and that, as St. Chad's is pointed to as the first example of a long series of ,yorks in which the old spirit has been revived, so this windo,v may gro,v in interest with time, as the first example of the revival of the old devotion of artists and workmen to the beautifying and adorning of God's Churches by their generosity. It is my intention to say three masses for the donor of }411 the window and the members of their families, ,vhether living or departed, and praying God to bless and prosper both them and you, I remain, dear .ßlr. Hardman, Your faithful servant and Bishop, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. Private letter to U r. Ha;.dman on the sam/ occaSion. Bishop's House, Easter Sunday, 1854. Iy dear Ir. Hardman, In conveying to you and the Iessrs. Po,vel1 my thank!=t for all that you have done for St. Chad's Cathedral, I am of course fully sensible that :you are the prime mover and the great contributor in these generous and pious works. From the first time I met )90U, when you gave me the first little monstrance ever used in Australia, I have had an esteem for you w'hich has continued to gro,v ,vith time and intimacy. I am slo,v in expressing gratitude, perhaps too slo,v; it is so near allied to praise, though so very distinct from it, and though a duty, whilst the latter often approaches to an offence. Not that I do not deeply feel it where it is o,ving, but I am often delicate ,vhere perhaps I seem almost indifferent. It was impressed on me early by dear parents who ,vere relnarkable for their prudence. And when I entered religion, I,yas deeply impressed with the often recurring homily of St. Chrysostom, "Praise, alle-r I ife is 0 L.e1. ." But you ,vill perhaps permit me at a tilue like this, ,vhen I am thinking much about you, to say, ho\v 'varm an affection I have for you, and what an interest I take in you and all that i::, yours. 1 tJ I \vish also to say how thoroughly I appreciate that judicious discrilnination ,vith which, ,vhilst you thro,v yourself into all the ,yorks in ,vhich a layman can co.. operate, you abstain from all that is purely the dominion of the clergy. It is this cOlnbination of zeal ,vith prudence rare, that most cOlnmends you both to my judgment and affection. If the judgment of God's appointed servants on earth ll1ay be taken as some little shadow of His own, ,vhere religion and its service is concerned, ) I trust you win penetrate to the depths of the Inotive ,vhich has induced me to say what I have aid, solely with the vie,v of con.. firming and encouraging that zeal and judgment with ,vhich you devote youl'Belf to the service of religion. I ,vish to grant to you, and I hereby grant to you, by y.irtue of my epi copal authority, forty days of indulgence, for every time that you sing in the Church. A.nd I shall ahvays make a memento for you and your faillil)'" in my prayers at the Holy Sacrifice. 'Vishillg you, lrs. Harc11uan, and your children, the blossing of this Holy Seasoll. I remain, my dear lr. Hardman, Your faithful and affectionat.e friend, + "'\V. B. ULLATHOI{NE. J Vhat is a good girl. 1\ly dear little niece, Your little letter pleased 111e very much. 'Vhen a little girl has a good heart, and says what is good out of her heart, it always pleases everybody. But it pleased me very much. So you would like to go to Rome with me. But where could I put such a little jumping body, unless Bishop's Houðe, July 16th, 1855. ].J3 were to put you in the top of IUY portmanteau, and then ) on 'would jump out ,vhen the CustOlll llouse officers come to open it, and then they would be astoni hed. I will certainly get you a nice little !{osary at Rome and ask the Pope to bless it for you. And I have sent you a little medal of Our Lady of La balette. Your cousin Lizzy at tho Convent at Stone had a little ,\Thite habit on at Holy Innocents', anù looked ju t like a little nUll. And she ,vauts very lunch to 1e olù enough to be one. She i very happy there, aud is very fond of the nUllS, as I ùare ay you are very fond of the nuus at Lingdale IIouse. Dear child, I ,viII pray for you, as you have asked me so nicely to do. And so no,v you must :::;tudy well in study-time, anJ jump and skip in play-time, and be lJ. happy, merry child. ly idea of a good child is that she never says in her heart, I like or I don't like; ::;he never thinks in her heart, I will or I won't, but always loves and obeys her mistresses from her heart. God bless you, dear child. YonI' affectiona tA unc] e, + W. B. ULL \THORNE. A 1.e1.Y distant anticipation. Birmingham, April 21::;t, 1858. Dear 1\1 r. Phillipps, r may venture to tell you thnt I have projected a ,york, to be carried on as I can get time, the object of ,vhich is to bring back the Cllrrent ascetical teaching to its solid foundation-humility. I go chiefly to the repre- sentative Saints of ear1y asceticism for my foundations, and to the more scientific periods for the science of the subject. One point which I should much wi h to il1ustrate is the l-i.J. intimate relation which exists between humility and wisdom. In short, I should very much like to give a full, com- prehensive, and scientific treatise on that fundamental virtue, concerning which, except the beautiful epitome of Rodriguez, which is of course a translation, we have scarcely anything in our language. It is curious that Barrow worked the subject in his dry ,yay from St. 'fhomas, and Jeremy rraylor from Sts. Bernard and Bonaventure. With respectful regards to frs. Phillipps and your family circle, wishing you and thern every blessing, I remain, dear :111'. Phillipps, Your obliged and faithful servant in Christ, + W. B. ULLA'fnORNE. On the death of his mother. Birmingham, Sept. 20th, 1860. Dear Mother Prioress, I thank you and the community most gratefully for your kind sympathies and your charitable prayers for the repose of my dear mother. By an understanding long since made between Mother Iargaret and her, I interred her remains in the Church at Stone yesterday very solemnly. The many prayers offered for my dear mother, and the recollections of her solid virtues, evinced even to her last breath, are to me a great consolation. She deserved a worthier son than I am. To all the dear sisters as to yourself, I beg to repeat my gratitude, and I remain, Dear Mother Prioress, Your faithful servant in Christ., + W. B. ULLATHORNE. 145 He tries to resiy n. his Bishopric. Iay 10th, 1862. It is long since I had the plea ure of seeing YOIl; but I hope to have that pleasure some day again. [y head ha grown very grey ,vith solicitudo; bub I thank God that there is luuch to consolf' me in thi Diocese. For t,vo years past I have been very much engaged in m ttters that rather rega.rd ecclesiastical diplomacy and business of various kinùs before tho IIoly See; more indeed than ,vith the administration of this diocese; but I hope that after this third visit to ROJ1e in the course of that period, I shall be left again to illY own diocesan ,york. During my recent abode in the Eternal City, I put a solemn petition before the lloly -'ather, praying to be released from the Episcopal office after my IOllg and varied labour;::;, and to be allowed to return to that Inonastic life \vhich I had always looked back to ,vith desil'e. But after a fortnight of silence, the Holy Father answered me in a, very unexpected way. Ou the Feast of the Purification, in the solemn function in St. Peter's, after he had chanted the Benediction in the 1Iass and was reseated on his Throne, the Pope called me before him, aud 'v hen I had knelt down, he said: " ronsigllol.e, iu nomine Sancti Petri, io vi dico da q uesta Santa Catedrd. di verità che non si può accettare 1:1 sua demissione. Sta al suo posta; perseveri fin ana morte; ha olte C03e an cor a fare." After that what could one do but bo'v the head in sublnission? and, as Cardin l Antonelli observed to me two da.ys afterwarJs, " You must have felt it far 1110re tranquillising to receive the Pope's answer under those qolemn circullistances than if he had spoken to you pri va tel y ." T 146 Oil the Ramble1.. Birmingham, !fa.y 5th, 1863. Dear fr. Phillipps de Lisle, I thank JOu for your very kind letter and approval of my second pamphlet. It is satisfactory to know that labours and writings produced under circumstances so unpleasant have not been altogether in vain. I have had several other very kind letters, which have not a little relieved me, but \vhat I most wish to see is SOlue satisfac- tory change in the management of the Periodical itself. ry opas rnagnu'J1 , the philosophical, theological, and ascetical treatise on the virtue of humility has, alas! beell suspended for years, and I kno\v not \vhen I shall be able to resume it. I have the materials of nearly two volumes lying in a rough state, and how glad I should be, if I could have six months of seclusion to complete it, but that is out of the question. Business grows so much and in such varied shapes, whilst creeping ago comes on, al1d slackens the old energies, that I should be heartily glad if the Holy Father would let me retire. I made an effort last yeår to get free, but failed, so I suppose I must be reconciled with my burden. I hope that Irs. de Lisle and all your family are well, and that you are prospering ill all things as you desire. And praying Almighty God to bless you in all good things, I remain, dear fr. Phillipps de Lisle, Your obliged and faithful servant, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. 147 ][onfalen b rt' ][onTLS of the West. Birmingham, April 5th, 1867. 11y Dear Ir. de Lisle, I have just completed reading ..\Iontalembert's third ,.olume, which is learnedly and admirably done. The life of St. Columba is a masterpiece. It was ,vise to put both the ,veakr..esses as ,veIl as the strength, the errors as 'well a the excellencies, of those great men, so as to lean) nothing to controversies. ....\.150, because this mode of handling God's Saints, after the Scripture modol, makes their whole eX[ll11ple more instructive and encouraging; bringing them also anew within the compass of humanity. I think, however, that his own deductions on the conduct of St. Gregory's monks in flying instead of standing to their work amongst the people, when the ro)'"alties turned against them, are too logical; a common mistake in ,vrit- ing histories of far back periods. 'Ve have not all the premisses, and it ,vould seem that they could do nothing \vith that rude Saxon people ,vithout their kings, and 'vera too marked to stand their ground or to hold any people together in face of the idolatrous priests, \vithout some countenance and protection from authority. They fled, but on the first opening they returned again, and the Church has canonised them. I send you a little pamphlet which has been drawn frolllIne through a most scandalous course of lectures, etc., that has filled Statfordshire with an intense excitement, and spread a ,vide mischief of demoralisation. 1\.t '\T aI5a11, however, the plague has been stayed. The ]llagis.trates and leading inhabitants to the nUlnber of 300, signed a declaration that they would not go near these lectures, the Catholics have filled their own Chul'che 148 dnring thenl, and the military and police were sent back to their places as not required. The reporters quitted the place in disgust. lany towns are still threatened \vith this nuisance, but the right policy to be pursued is no\v understood, both by the Catholics and the authorities. I trust we shall not again have the spectacle of cavalry volunteers and police arrayed to the Dum bel' of 1,000 men, protecting these wretched men against the fury of 10,000 Catholics, as recently at "r olverhampton. Hoping that you, lrs. de Lisle: and your fanlily are ,veIl, and praying Almighty God to bless you and them, I remain, dear fr. de Lisle, Your obliged and faithful servant in Christ, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. Ohristian Schools and Schola'ts. Birmingham, August 11 th, 1867. Dear fr. de Lisle, The Roman assembly was a wonderful exemplification of the force of veritable union; and the cordiality that prevailed amongst the assembled prelates ,yas admirable. Half a nlile of mitres in pairs in the procession fornled the episcopal contribution. The (Ecumenical Council contemplate if all goes ,veIl, for the autumn of next year, intends chiefly the revision of the Canon La,v and discip1ine of the Church, to 3,dapt it to the exigencies of the present condition of the Church. The Emperor of the French has expressed his accord ,,,ith the proposa1. rfhe Pope is wonderful1y well and vigorous when ,ve consider his years. And the amOUD t of work he went through, with the incessant toil of audiences added to all the rest., was a htbour of Hercules. 1 to IIave you seen a very beautiful and instructive book ( Christian Schools and 8cholars," ,vritten by one of thE-' nuns of Stone? I t will repay perusal, and I wish to see it widely diffused. Its object i to shew historically the genius of ecclesiastical education. It has a certain analogy with l\Iontalelllbert's lonks of the \Vef\t, and rnns parallel ,vith it in another track. I regret exceedingly to find from the Standard that he has relapsed into hig old complaint, and that it call e fears for his most valuable life. Requesting respectful remembrance to 1\11':;. de Li le, I remain, dear rr. de Li:'5le, Your obliged and faithful Servant, + W. B. ULLATHORNE. fJefter oflhanlcsfor fhe redecoration of his private chapel. Birmingham, August 20th, 1868. Dear Rev. :ßIother, I received on this day of my feast a round.robin, signed round a cro!=)s and signed in red, just like the round-robins the buccaneers used to sign in their piratical expeditions in the South Seas, when they were discontented ,,,,itb their captain. At the first glance it really looked onJÏnous of a rebellion. But first sight is ofren deceptive in this ,vorld. I find it explaill a ID3C:;S of confusion that }1as been going on in this honge for some week , no one coulrl p act1r say why or by ,vhat authority. This D10rning the Chapel was quite bright and in its ".onted order, and I thought of aU those ,vho IU1.d brought light into it and made it reflective of their filial affection and devotion, and prayed for them, that God would unite them all in the light and beauty of his Eternal Kingdom. 150 I hftve ascertained that St. {ary's is the ringleader in t his getting up of the offering of (( the religious Com- munities of the Diocese," and so to St. Iary's I write, as to the ear, as well as to the mouthpiece of all. It is a great pleasure to me to see" all the Communities" nnited in a joint act of affection and homage to the Superior wholn God has placed over them. I atll the servant of Christ's spouses, and it is a service ,vhich brings small pain and much content. I thank God 'who has given me so much veneration for His true daughters, and has blessed me in the service of so large a number of them. If I am able to do them some service, it is much o,ving to their belief that I have that veneration for them, and that I account the serving of them to be a singular privilege that God has given to me. Let me, througb you, dear Rev. lother, thank the Communities for your common act in brightening the Altar at which I pray for you, and for the prayers you so often say for me, and let me express my gratitude to you all for all your goodness to,vards 111e. And nu1.Y God bless, increase, and prosper you all. I am always, Your devoted spiritual father, + 'V. B. ULLA1'HORNE. Leite? of ill an la for prayers. Birmingham, 11arch ] 7th, 1874. Dear :1Iother Prioress, To you and your community I offer my thanks for your charitable prayers, kind greetings, and good wishes, on Iny jubilee. The address ,vas exhibited at Cough ton, and has g0ne to adorn the walls of St. Bernard's Seminary. fl'he illumination was admired by realjuòges as well as ùJ 151 tIle members. "\Ve had a very nice day at Coughtou j f\ congregation, sundry brethren, lnass, sermon, and Te Deum. I send you a copy of our joint address to our old novice- lllaster, fOt" which I have waited before \vriting. If I have taken sOlne care of the convents, they have always 1110re than repaid me by their kindness and goodness to me. It ha been a rea] pleasure to go back to old and simple times, and to recall all the goodness of God to me. It is likewise a time when the h:Jdow of the door of eternity seems to cast its form and mystery upon one. .AJter fifty years in religion it is time to look for" ard to the end of the short path remaining, and the carking, ct"eaking body tell:; one it will go do\vn at Jast, if llOt SOOIl, yet not so long hence. So what. remains is to look olnvard::; and upwards. I pray God, dear :Jlother Prioress, to bless and prosper you and your community, and remain, Always your devoted Spiritual father in Christ, + 'V. B. ULLATHORNE. All old Olo'islmas Mystery. Oscott, December 26th, 1882. Deal' Lady Catherine, Thanking you and all at Spetchley for your kind Christmas greetings and good ,vishes, to you, )11'. Berke]ey and your family circle, I ,vish and pray all good and happiness. One does not often find much that is new about Christmas except in those eternal mysteries, ,vhich are always ne\v the deeper \ve go into them. But I have been lookiug into the old mystery plays on Christmas ill the Townley collections, which are \vritten in the old Yorkshire dialect of the time of Richard II., and in the 152 "Seconù of the Shepherds" have found something ,vonderfully rich, simple and quaint. The Shepherds, all living near 'Vakefield, have fenced their sheep against the sno,v, and go into a hut to talk and sleep, ,vhen there comes in among them a certain ,vild fello,v named lax, ,vho joins the talk, which is all about sheep and t.he fear of having them stolen. lax asks leave to sleep there, which is reluctantly allo,vcd, as he is suspected. vVhen the shepherds are all asleep, Iax slips off his shoes, gets the door gently opened, anù calories off on his shouliler one of the fattest sheep. ..A.rrived at his o,vn cottage, his wife Gilly and he discus the question, Ho,v are they to hide the sheep aga.inst the shepherùs, ,vIto on :1,vaking are sure to come in search for it. t last it is settled that Gilly shall go to bed and have a baby, and the sheep is huddled into the bed \vith her. The shepherds conle, and ßIax tells the1n they may search everywhere, only not to disturb Gilly and the baby, as she had been so recently confined. Nothing is found, but one of the shepherds gets into a very \varm sympathy with the baby, wants to know if it has been baptised, and \vho were the sponsors. Yes; and for sponsors three Yorkshire men are given by name and three Yorkshire wonlen. But the shepherd longs to see the little face, and if he can see the little hand he will put sixpence into it. Iax protests, and the wife groans in suffering; but the shepherd moves the clothes and exclaims: Oh! ,vhat a long black nose the baby has. Then arise threats on one side, and fears on the other, of what 'v ill happen to-nlorrow before the magistrates of \Vakefield. But at this moment music is heard in the heavens, and an angel appears at the door and announces the birth of the Saviour of the ,vorld, and the shepherds are told they must hasten \vithout delay to Bethlehem. A.rrived there" all their roughness is gone, they pour out th 1 j; 1l10-.;t tl'uder filHI :dl'l'ctÍonate fl'eling ill gr(\f.lt dè\ Jtioll 0\'('1" the Divino Ha.Le, and :-\alutl' ra..y with cOllgl'atul:ttiulls, and .Jo:-'l'ph with politeness. .L\.nd so tho IlJ)'stery ella . 'VhaL enriches the ,,-hole of the play is the \vay in which they talk like good Y orkshit.c Christians all along, invokillg onr Lord and the Blessed Virgin all through the previou cen('s. It ,vas performed in "rake field, at Christnlas-tide, by the barkers (tanners), but requires a kno,vledge of Y ork- shire, and a glossary as ,yell, to undersÜtnd it. rrhe people of those titnes 111USt ha.ve enjoyed the hUtnour of the dialogues very much, and then the sudden change to tender piety when they get to Bethlehen1. Your Inaternal solicitude i.s travelling far and wide thi:-; Christtuas ,,'ith all thi dispet' ion, and all the absent \"ill be thiuking of home-the beautiful influence of thi:::) season, in ,vhich the Holy Frunily consecrates all Christian fanl;lies, and dl'a\vs together in spirit those \vho are crarated in body. I wish you, :11r. Berkeley, and all your fau1ily, the true joys of the season, and its abundant graces, and relnaill, dear Lady Catherine, Your faithful friend alid bishop, + 'V. B. ULLA_THOR E. nl"olhcrhood , / St. "Vi1u.ent de Paul. Birmingbarn, July 2nd, 1881- )Jy ùeal" .JIr. Blount, In ackno,vledging the receipt of your letter \vith a copy of the report of the Society of St. \Tincent of Paul for the year 1883, I am renlÏnded of the long and zealous service ,vhich you have devoted to the founding and propagating of'the Society in this country. I have alw:1Y h:lll an appreciation of the va1ue of this u 15-1 Society on the grounds-Firstly, fur t1H spiritual bL llefits ftUÙ sanctifying influence ,vhieh the Soeil'ty confers on it own lnctubers; f\econdly, for the h'lllpOl'al and spiritual benefits which the yi its üf it Hlclubers confer on the poor; thirdly, for the lHutual benefits ,,,hich the ll1culùers Ly their charitable association and union in good ,yorkR confl'l" on one allother. Undl l' the direction of their Rey. Clergy, thesc little societies fUrIn a nucleus of piety, edification, a.nd good 'works in the congregations ,vhich ,yell deserve to be cherished, cncourngeJ, and helped by epi:::;copal authority. I therefore invoke the blcssing of God upon the Society anù its l11elnhe1's, and pray to God for its exten- sion and prosperity. I renlain, IllY dear 1'11'. Blount, your faithful and devoted serynnt iu Christ, + 'V ILLIA!\I I3EHNA.l D, J3ishop of Birn1Ïnghaln. Georg-c Blüunt, Esq. F'it 11 c,.a 1 (!( JIr. j1"'e }'J.C J.S. Birnlingham, .\.ugust j] st, 1884.. i\Iy dear Lady Catherine, On Friday I buried my dear 01<1 friend, Ir. Ferrel's, of BadJesley Clinton, alliid t the larnentations and tears of the people on his property J tú ,vhom he ,vas as a father. I could not but reflect aloud in the pulpit what the scene ,yonld have been in the days of his noble ancestors, ,vhen, arnit1st a vast and resplendent assemblage, the heralds ,,'onld have proclaitned silence by sOllnd of trulnpet anù the rppreselltati ve of the Grand I arshal of t.he Conqueror would have been pr0clailned with an his title , hi three ] ;)0 carIÙOlll , hi:::; hundred baronies anù hi') inheritance of a huudred and forty luanors. But here ,vas the silnplo H Olù Squire," as the people loved to call hil11, at the ue\v of ,vhose death strong In en, even Protestants) aHa mell in rcspectablp positions, cried fiud shi vered in their frnlnes. Let Jne tell yon one anecdote, whi h represents n. thousand. lIe was walking in his ,vooù , a hundred acre:::;, the last rpnl::tins ùf the great forest of Arden, when ho caUIe upon a poor old decrepit \vorna.n gathering fire-,vood. ,A.t the sight of the squire, she ,va alarilled, but he spoko to her as kindly as an ola father to his chilù, helped her to complete her bunùle, took it on hi o,vn shoulders, and chatted by her side all the way to her cottage ,vhere he left her and her bundle. The heartð of the poor rose up at his pl'e::;ence, and he cheered all the lleighLourhood wherever he caIne. "A fine old Bngli'5h Gcntlelnan, 311 of the olLlcll time." Letter of" tllllllb:t JOI. llrcselll::> dfe rill'.! sidow::>$. O:::;cott, Dec. ôth, 188-1. l\ly dear 2\lother Prioress, The postman ,yith his h8avy load reached here at 2 p.m. ye::5terday, and it took till near dark to read ,v!tat he brought, your included. Again thanking you all for all your prayers, of which I hopo a good part ,vent for the soul, as ,yell as for your Chri tmas greetings, I ,vish you all a happy Christmas tide in the true Catholic sense of the ,vorù. By the way, M1':::;. Lescher ,vas the first to send me fruit and game repeatcdly at the beginuing of lllY illncss, and though r thanked her through my secretary for her killdlle:5 , I ,,,ish through her daughter::; to thank her again. Since thcn IllY itting-rooul has looked like a vine [ruIn the nUIllUl'r 01' bUliChcs of grapes sent fruln 15() 1 lallY quarters, anù hung upon the figures in the 01(1 Gothic furniture. Garno came until t.hert' \vas llano-cr of o Jny getting ,vings. All t.hi:-,; was very charitable fur such an old bag of bOlies. I ay 1\Iass in nlY private rOOlll, not ùaring to venture out of it, and prayed heartily for you an 011 Christtllas day. I am 110\V able to do a day's desk ,york \vithout fatigue. This big hou e is no\v enlpty, but I enjoy the solituÇle. I was made for a herillit, and once in younger ùays tried to join the Cistercians; but ,vi e heads, I snppose, prevented it. Still the troubles of governluent find me out, and I have Olle at this 1110111ent, n grave one, for ,vhich I \vant you to pray. I pray God to bless you all, auc1 give you that sanctity \vhich I love to illlagine in you, in its perfection, and reJnall1 , ly dcaI' )Iother Pl'iores , Your de\"otc(l fat hcr in CIll'i t, + 'V. B. ULL \l'I-lOl{NE. 'i'v a IJ(1dy staying at Oha11101tlli. St. !\.Iary'::;, O cott, Oct. 8th, 1880. Our corre pondence has this in it that it is altogether between soul and soul, in total ignor-:tnce of the corporal inyestiture. It is like a correspondence of spirit living in separate ,vorld , purely through the intelligence. In Iny fiftieth year, Dr. l{obert Fergnsson ent lliC to the ..t\.lps, "'here 1 spent some four months, wallderil1g from Alp to lake, from lake to \Jp, and frOll} one lllonastery to a.nother. Ho\v beautifully the Scripture says that God gives sno'v as wool. It is the blanket that \val'll1S and fosters the carth. 1 al o havc sat on the hcathèr on tho lllolultain top, and \vondercd tu ce how tho gentian had gathered into its petals_.t he profonnde t LInu of the :-3kil' , ,rith Iont 1 , ) 7 BJanc ill the pro pect, and a hare jUlnping up right ul1l1cr my feet. I have dwelt ill the Ionastery of Eiusicdlen, venerable with] ,000 years, anù seen in its va'-lt church nIl the costumes of S,vitzerlanù, tho South of France, auù tho North of ltaly; have seen its lllonthly proces ions; h 1,Ve \vitnesscù. all the \vays to it covoreù. ,vith pilgl"in1 ; have been familiar ,vith its ÐO priests and its veneraLle Abbot. I have felt the effect of that upper atmosphere that electrifies nerves and brain. I anI not eugageù on tho inner life of :ßIoth0r rargaret, hut on the work promised in the Eudun'melLts, a work for which Iothcr ::\Iargaret's convents by her direction have said a. Iagnifica t every Saturday for 20 years past, and still say it. (( A great anù arduous ,vork," a:i St. Augustine says, (( because it is hard to persuade the prouù that the greatest force lies in the virtue of hUlnility ; Lut Uod is a sure helper." }'laterials gathered twenty year::> ago cover all my tables, after being so long huried out of :sight. So, say a, prayer that the old !lUlU may accolnpli::;h what the younger ones may profit by. I pray God to bless you, your dear Il10ther and sister, and reIl1alJl, my dear chilù in Chri t, Yours very faithfull v .. .. , + 'r. B. ULL..\.TIIOHKE. 'l'u tlte samc. St. lal'Y'::; O::;cott, ept. 8th, 1883. It "ras not ouly a. plcasure, but a, relicf to see YOllr hand writing, fur I had heard a. report that you ha.d been very unwell; till I thought if it were serious, you ,vauld have let me kllo\v through SOlno onc. I ha\' not yet got the Philadelphia Quarterly, hut I 158 Rhn.ll read your article ,vith interest ,vhen it comes. rfhe ., French Revolution has occupied my attention froul tÏlne to time most of my life, as ,veIl as the career of Napoleon. I remember many of the old French emigrant priests, and heard much from theul in early days. I have also a vivid recollection of my father bringing a newspaper into the honse, and reading froln it to lllY Blother the account of the battle of \Vaterloo, and also of the intense excitenlent through the country as the troops returned to their quarters. ])eople \vere almost mad \vith excitement, they crowded after the soldiers at their billets to treat them and talk to them . No ,vonder; for every Ulan not in the line was a militia Inan. Invasion ,vas the one idea of everybody when I ,vas a child, and our nurses frightened us into good behaviour with the n ìIne of Bonaparte. The first book I read on St. Helena ,vas that of your relative. I think I am right in so caning the author. As a baby I u:-;ed to lie on the green of my native to\vn be iJe the nurse, and ,vonder at seeing so llHìny black gaiters moving all in a line, as if one willllloved the whole line of red coats. Enough of this; hut it all came on Iny ,vondel"ll1Cllt froIn the French Revolution. Even our old A.bbé Fidèle, in our little chapel, came to us from it, one of the ::)imple t and mo t charitable of men. rrhat ,vas a revolution of passion; ,vhat 'va 1l0\V ce is a revolution of cold Inalignallcy. I rClll ân, lUY dear child, always your faithful and devoted, + 'V. B. ULLA.TIIORNE. 1iJ9 " rlLt ('ll t:1l úy lliyld ]Ji"l,ze." St. Iary's, O:-;cott, NovClnher 2nù, 1885. Thank you for the "Qucen by Right Divine." Oharm,- iny is a ,vord that [habitually shun, and am habitually offended ,vith, it is so hacknied and abused by ,vomen for every trifle; but taken ill its original sellse for a preter- natural influence that overcOJnes the order of nature, it i:i the only ,vord to express the influence ,,,hich your Dlcnloir of Sæur Rosalie has exercised upon me. 'raking, then, the masculine find not the feminine sense of the ,vord, the " Queen by Right Divine" is charming, and charmingly put forth. As I reached to\vards the end, tears dropped from my eyes . . "\Vhat a woman! 'Vhat a saint! 'Vhat a po\ver! The luemoir of fadame S\vetchine is also very interest- ing, the facts well selected, the portrait weB dorre. Of course I know her letters, and something about her salon, Lut little about the General, and that not correct. Having been at St. Petersburg ,vhen a boy in a blue jacket gives me a more vivid appreciation of anything Russian. 'rho opening of Le faistre's Soirées de St. I J cters- Lourg, and Palmer'::; descriptions in his ook on the l{us ian Church, always bring that city back to my mind in a series of vivid pictures. In short, the two fir;:;t illelnoir have intcl'ested as well as clHLfmcd me; but the first is a rua:::;terpiece. ..A..re you 3.\vare that ..\...lexander had made nIl arrange- ments for entering the Catholic Church a little before he ..lied? He ,vent to a city in Poland, (I forget which) sent to the Carmelites, and requested that the church door should bo left open at midnight, \vcnt alid pro::;u'ated hÍLn- self before the Dle sctl SaCrall1Cnt, then returned to hi:j 1GO re iùcllce, and ùespatchcd GCllcral-, I forget hi nan1e -3, Catho]ic, on a secret lucssage to the Pope, asking hiln to send a COlllpctellt nU111 , not in Diplolnacy, to receive hitn, and advi e him about bringing btLck tho Hussian Chut'ch into Catholic unity. The person fixed upon ,vas the .l\.bbot of St. Grcgory' , afterwards Pope Gregory X\TI. J3ut on his ,yay to Archangel, he died, and ,vas suspected to have been either poisoned or assassinated. R01l1e ,va ripe ,vith this stOl'Y ,vhen I first visited it in 1838. Lacordaire I kne,v, and he spent some days ,vith me in TIirtllinghaln. I evcn got him to preach a short sermon at Oscott, though very reluctantly. 'Vhen a conrse of lectures in London ,vas proposed to hin1, he replied that he kue,v the geniu'3 of the Prench, but not of the English. I have a copy of his ,yorks ,vhich he sent lue ,vith a. letter. He also paid a visit to llIother Iargaret, of ,yhom in many respects, and cspecially in the hunlorous ,vay in ,vhich she nutllaged difficult people, Smut' Rosalie rClninds me. I first nlet Abbot G ueranger on the J{hône at Chalon. I ,vas the first professed Benedictine he had ever seen. I travelled ,vith him to llolne in 1838, and 've ,vere at San Callisto together for ten ,veeks. He ,vas there to obtain the approval of his Congregation . . And no\v I have fL black cro\v to pluck \vith you. 'Vhy, ill the u1elnoir of Lac0rdail'e, do you invariably call Don1inicans '1nonlts? Neither by right, tradition, custom, or privilegp, are they monks, or have they ever given themselves that designation, from St. Dominic do,vn\vards. A monk, as the ,vord iUlplies, is a solitary, or a cenobite. The five orders of friars, ùr frères, or fratres, began at the end of the l th or the beginning of the 13th century. They,vere designed for the priesthood from the beginning; the n10nks were not. 'rheir object ,vas to go into the parishes to preach; the Inonks ,vere designed for their Illolu\'steries. !ò 'v...:ß t--/ 't/ J "-- l! 1 {þ b . v d e 4J} A &-d 7Ðf4 ( I:n-f-!Jt;::t JVVVt4 Ì) m. b UC0Vj)k lJ c eJ J61 ;; I2-Wt J J J-. 'k4-/ d- iv 7 fL. òjkj) 11) In uA1 'le C f/h-- A JIb... //J,-, pwt , j 4Þæ_J ? OVa fÀ4 ... (JP( 'l 4- f- 4:- +û ;U-Rð-;7 J cJ -Ch c.R-- c7l/tJ'tJ e ðk ) t!v ol 'k ? 'v1;' )) 4-?.J ) Qß4UtP .(L .J 7 òJ i!Ji , ) jvt J7tJ b cY -h Vú2 h :þ 'UL..-- Ç) Q c.- aflq;:;'--iJh Þ- ; jLc:JUFHEf- · ð W q ÓtJu'Ît; -r W:tf; fb .L;j tJj I'J . lôl 'rhe e five order::; of Friars are the Ca.rInelites, then revived and reformed, the Dominican , Franciscans, Augustinians, Friar::; for the redemption of captives, or crutched Friar , the reù and blue cro '" on their haLir, ,vho Clune later into life. By no office, title, or la.w are the DOlllinicans IHonk:::;. The Church ha never called thern IHonks, nor have they thelll l'lves. 'fh0Y' are fratre , frères, or friar , in Italian frati. There, I hope yon are atisfi('d with your joLation froTu a veritable monk, a descendant of the monks of 'Vest- n1Ïnster, and of St. \.ugu tine of Canterbury, as \vell as of Gregory the Great. If thi:-; is wanting in pOIDposity, I an1 luuch rlli taken. Kindest regard to your dear rnother and si ter. I pray Goll with all In)" heart to bl('s::; you all three, allù to prosper you, and I rerllaill, your obli ed and affectionate fl.iend, + "T. B. ULL \.THOHXE. St. ra.ry':-:, Oscott, Birlningham, Dec. 9, 1879. To the Aldho}. .-).-; of" Rells of tlte SllndzulI.Y." To your elf, your mother, anù sister a happy and prosperon Y0ar, ,vith many graces. Poor Pari ! I never regret to see it humbled, for that is it one hope. }{o'v like it i:-; to old Athens; the sarne vanity, the saIne rest1e slless, the same eager- ness for ne,v thing , the samp in1patience with old ones, the sanle setting up of nlcn this day, anù knocking them do,vn the next. The sallIe pa:::;sion for culture, and the atlle abuse of it. But with a thousand tÍlne;:; n10re power weakened by a:-; Inuch division. Lucian's auction of the philo:,opher;:) of .A thCll:3 will just do fur the sophist::; ,. lIBRARY ST. \ARY'S COLLEGE 162 of Pari . As Aristophanes pulled do\vn the wise Socrates by his ridicule, Paris puts all \\Tise things into thè saIne Inelting pot. H Unstable as ,vater, thou shalt not excel." But \vhen I look at the great city from another point of vie\v, I am relllÏnded of l ome, Antioch, Alexandria, and Constantinople, ,vhell the Christians ,verc in a minority of strcngth. It i amazing ho\v faith and charitya.re stimu- lated aud strengthened in the midst of luxury, unbelief, and profanity. 'Vhat is not obtained in numbers is obtained in the intensit.y of good concentrated in individ- uals. Aud when ,ve consider that an ordinary degree of good founù in 111any is not to be compared in excellence to t,he same alnount of good gathered into one subject, ,vhere the good is increased not in arithluetical but in geollletrical proportion, there is perhaps as much good in Pari::; taken aU together as is to be found in any equal population, despite of all the evil. In this ,yay the Proviùence of God avenges the evils of hu nan ,vill . For I suppo e the accuTIlulated sanctity of Abrahalu over- balallceù the evil of five cities. And I take it as fact that there is heroic sanctity in individuals ,vithin that city that overbalances the evils of thousands, for its protection. Yet the greatest signs of protection often take the sha.pe of humiliation. Ah, lny dear child, ,vhat a thing it is to accuillulate sanctity ,vithin the unity of one individual soul! 'To centre it all in that one point of the soul that we call 'will. 'fo put that ,vill in the hands of God, and in blind faith let Him guide it to its eternal destiny . Your" Bells" ring no other tUlle but this: Tont à Dien, Tout de Dien, Tout pour Dien. The less turning to self the better. 'The soul is a subject made for an object, but God is the object, and the subject call only rest in the object. 'rhat is the reason \vhy tittle is so tedious \vhen occupied \vith self, and so s\vift as to be almost unconscious, ,vhen em- 165 ployod with the whole 80ul on God. If ,ve could be \vholly ab orbed in God in this life, 'we should have no '-'ense of tilne. " J oiu thyself to eternity, and thou shalt find rest." .i\Iy ùear chilù, you UlUSti pardon the intrusion of an old nlan's thoughts, ,vho naturally ,vrites \".hat is uppermost. But, as t. Jerome says in half apology to St. Austin, the old ox treads heavily on the ground. '1'he Priore of Stone, authoress of Iother ')fargaret's life, i printing a great book on St. Catherine of Sienna, for her fifth centenary this year. Not,vithstanding the full life by her confessor Blessed Raymond, there is much new light on her life and spirit, derived chiefly from Ull- published manuscripts \vritten for her canollisation by her companions, and exÏ:')ting in Italian libraries, especially the Iinerva and Sienna. A curious fact comes out that she kept England to the true Pope ill the great :=;chism \vhen Scotland went wrong, had an agent at Cambridge, and correspondeJ \vith King Richard. '1'he book must soon get into the continental languages like her" Schouls and Scholars." I pray God to bless you, your mother and si tel', \vith the copious blessings of this holy time, and renlaill, my ùear child, Your faithful friend ill Christ, + \\f. B. ULLA'l'HORNE. - --- - - - -- H LL ,&.1m E:\GLISIl, Printers, Lithographers, etc.. e...., Hi h Street, Birmingham. 1" Prl'para.lioll. C H A J{A CT E RI S TICS FRO:\f THE WRITIXGS OF BISHOP ULLA1"'HOI{NE. LOXDOX: BURNS & OATES. This will form a companion volume to the CHARACTERISTICS already published from the writings of Cardinals NEWMAN and IANNING. At first it was intended to publish a selection of Characterist:cs in the present Bishop Ullathorne number of the Oscotian. But, as the work progressed, the passages worthy to be quoted grew so numerous that it was felt adequate justice could not be done to the subject in a section of 80 or 100 pages in the Oscotian. His Lordship's permission was therefore obtained to publish the CHARACTERISTICS in a separate volume. \Ehc Qll5COtiC1lt: A it rat1' >çtlJtatlJ :.ì. gchool &. general gtatioocrs, Music $ellefs, &c. PUBLISHING DEPARTMENT. Fublishers of the G RA VILLE S"f:RIES of Reading Books, Reading Sheet8, History Readers, Poetry Books, &c. &c. PRAYER BOOKS A D BIBLES in great variety. Catalogues . ent gratis on application. CHURCH FURNITURE DEPARTMENT. ßel1cfal Gburch &: gebool Furnishers, Deeor3tors, Embroiderers, &: Vestment Makers, aQd Modcllers of Religious tatuary. ESTIMATES GIVEN FOR SEATING CHURCHES, CHAPELS, ETC., And every description of Ecclesiastical Furniture Manufactured to Order. ARCHITECTSJ OWN DESIGNS CAREFULLY CARRIED OUT. 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Sent on fr'ial , and money 1"eIll1.ned if 1wt appl'oved of. Complete Lists 011, application. AL.PHON3E CARY, Music Publisher & Musical Instrument Maker, NEV\/BURY & LONDON. Tel,.çrrtms cwd Lettels- "CARY:' Nni,BURY. (:ï) w. R. MAGRATH & 00., WINE MERCHANTS, 31, THE PARADE, LEAMINljTON. . In this age of competition those who hope for mccess must have sorr.e trong inducements to offer. Our claimR consist of long and f'tudied experience in the select.ion. bottling. and maturing of \Vines. conpled with the resolve to Rell at the lowest competitiye prices. Feeling confident that no house can surpass us in these eðsential . we a k 'our attention to the following Price List. every item in which we guarantee of TEH.LIXG and SUß:::;TA TIAL value. WHISKEY. The following ""hÏðkieR are all made from home-grown malt, are thoroughly matured by age alone, are e.ntirely free from all ingredients now 80 commonly advertised to the tradp. for giving flavour :tnd the appeal'once of age TO fo:pirlts. and the most careful analysis fails to detect the slightest trace of fusH oil. BLENDS and PRICES. RCOTCH. PER GAL. IRISH. PEU GAL. ( .s. .. average age about y 1'8.. 1 H - I 0.1. R , average age about yrs., ,18,. v.O.s,. .. .0 a,. 20,- V.O.I.. . ,.;)., 20/- O. P i, age not less than 6 ., 21/- I O. P.I.. age not less than 6 ., :! 1/- CLARET. PURE BORDEAUX WINES. The great development of quality which has taken place in the \Vines of 'RO and '81, of which we hold very large Stocks, enables us to offer better value than ever in the lighter wines of theRe vintages. at from ] 2s. to 18s. per doz. Of the \ïntages. '74. '75, and '78. very superior \Vine. with fine bottle character, at 21s. to 30s.; and fine after-dinner Clarets from 3(iR. MADEIRA. No finer or more highly-prized 'Vine was grown in any countly in the world than the "Tine of :\Iadeira up to 1 .)2, in which ,year the whole of the vines on the island were blighted. The vine::, have been re-plan ted now more than twent.y years, and are producing \Vine eqnal in evp.ry respect to the \\Tine of former time:i. \r e have made a careful selection of these. and subjoin a list, with price . ". e recommend them as well worthy the attention of connoiR8eur . They are deliciou:i ""inek\, and show 8pler.did value at their respective prices. viz. :- Per Doz. Fine Soft Golden \Yine 24 - up{rior Old di tto 30 - Fine Character- Pale Dry ()í- Finest Rich 42 - High Clat' after-dinner 'YilleR (with age ill Lottle) 72 1 - to 84/- Per Qr. Cask 12 10 0 15 0 0 ] -; 10 0 20 0 0 STAR OF INDIA. An exquisite Old Ea.<.;t India Iadeira 7'2/- .All n-inr. nnd SJ1il'it. rlrU,.( /'1'f1/l'er at all!! Railwa!l Statinli ill tíu' lfidlrmrlliHfllfie::o. /jfl1Jlpl(' h(lttll'. .wpplif'rl. Full d tailcd Price List3 free on -application, (Ii) ALTAR WINES OF SPAIN VINO SANTO. Thi:-; dpliciolls ,vine, which i:-; cspeciall.v prepared for us a an .Altar 'Vine by a Catholic firrn of high standing at Jerez, continues to gain the highest approbation, not only as an. .\ltar Wine, ut also as a ,vine for thp table, and, on acconnt of Its perfect purity and high qualities, as a most invigorating ,vine for invalids. 21. . pe'i" Dozen; J:12 lJer Qltarler Oask, CARRIAGE PAID. V\'r p also ÍYnport a fine, light, dry ,vine, SPANISH CHABLIS, ,vhich we can also confidently recommend for Altar use. 'Ve subjoin its analysis, and the opinion of the eminent public analyst, Dr. 11i11 of Birmingham: Messrs. \V. R. MAGRATH & Co. Gentlemen-I beg to report that I have analysed the sample of Spanish Chabli8 which you submitted to me on October 26, and tbat the following are the results: Birmingham, Oct. 30, 1876. Specific Absolnte Alcohol Total Grape Acidity as Mineral Gravity. by weight. solidi. sngar. Tartaric add. mat r . -- ---- I- - 996'08 8'00 2-00 0.14 l 0.475 0.40 From these figures I am of opinion that this wine is the unsophisticated produce of the grape, and well adapted for the purpose for which it is intended. It is light and very dry, and moreover pleasant to the taste; and I cannot but think that, when well known, it will be largely used. I remain, gentlemen, yours faithfully. A. BOSTOCK HILL, M.D." As Spanish Chablis is admitted at the minimum rate of duty, we are enabled to quote it at the lo,v price of 168. per Dozen, 01' .:ES. 1 O. . per Quarter Oask, Oarriage paid. In addition to the above Altar Wines we keep also a complete stock of the 'Vines from the vineyards of the English College at Valladolid, and execute a ll orders imme diately they are received. SA "\1PLES FREE BY POST ON APPLICATION. w. R. MAGRATH & Co., 31, THE PARADE, LEAMING1-0N. (7) CM PARKER OJ,' r' E ItS BEsrl 1 CAS II -V ALUE 10 HE OnTAI ED A Y\VHER.b; IN TEAS T COFFEES I .A D GI XEH.-\.L G ROC E R Y r Gc)o(1, Str()ng, U seflll \ Vllole-Ieaf rr EA, 1/6 per 11). Thi Tea i recommendeJ, and has a large B1\lo Fine l'E1--\, 2/- per lb. Genuine COFFEE, from lod. per lb. ROMAN WAX CANDLES, all sizes, 5/- per doz.lbs. .A, discount on large quantities. Send for List of Prices. Carriage paid to any distance on General Orders. groc@ry, Wax ßaodl@, & Italial1 Warøhouse, 63, BULL ST., BIRMINGHAM. (g) S. SADLER & SON, < 0 0 7 6 0 3 0 0 4 0 1 10 0 0 3 0 0 4 0 o :> 0 0 7 6 o :> 0 o 7 6 o 10 0 o 15 0 0 2 6 o 3 0 o 5 6 080 0 o 10 0 2 6 o 15 0 o 15 0 o 10 0 o 5 0 0 7 0 o 10 0 A Complete List of Mr. Ruskin's Works can be had on application to his Agents: MESSRS. CORNISH BROTHERS, 37, NEW-ST., BIRMINGHAM. (10) THE MIDLAND EDUCATIONAL COMPANY, CORPORATION ST. & CANNON ST., BIRMINGHAM (BRANCH ESTABLISHMENT:-7. MARKET STREET, LEICt:.STER). Publishers, Wholesale and Export Booksellers, MANUFACTURING. COMMERCIAL & GENERAL STATIONERS. SCHOOL and OFFICE FURNITURE MAUFACTURERS. ETC., --- I - =' -. - - -I ..- 1-- 1.1 ::::: t".. :f1J .;:-- r. , ., - .. IIIIL ,r -, Have on "ale the following 'V orks by CARDIXAL NEWMAN and Dr. ULLATHURXE. 'r NEWMAX's (John Henry), D.D., Works. Lectures on the Doctrine of Justification. .)s. Oxford Univer,.ity Sermons. .js. Parochial aud Plain Sermons, edited by Rev. W. J. Copeland. t:I vols. 5s. each Eermons bearing upon SUbjects of the Day. 58. Selection adaptE'd to the Seasons of the Ecclesiastical Yeat' from the" Parochial and Plain :Sermons." ,js. Characteri tics from the writings of Dr. ewman, bf.iug selections from his vor.ou- wurks, armnged wIth the autl:.of's approval, with vortrait. 6s. Lo s and Gain. .js. Gd. Verse;; on "\ariou8 occasions. 5&.6d. Apo ogia pro Vita Sua. 6s. , 1.1 ULLATHOR E'S (Bishop), Works. Endowments of an. 10s Gd. Groundwork of the Chri tian Virtues. 10s. Gd. <-.. II -:0:- ,;I .. New Book. Just Read!l. Books for a Rpference Library; being Lectures on the Books in the Refer- elwe Depßrtmentofthe Birm nghamFree Li brary. with Hi bl,ograpbicaiAppendices. Demy 8vo, cloth, :?s. Gd. CORPO RAT I . .. .:. ;. ... . .! . . . .:................._.. ..... '...' '..' ...................... DIE SINKING. DIES FOR EMBOSSING. Monogmm from 4s., ('rests from !is.. Address Dies from s. 6d. according to style Sb.etchetl Free if order be gi\en for Lie. PRICES OF" STAMPING NOTE PAPER & ENVELOPES. NOTE PAPER. ENVELOP ES. Per Per Per" earn Per Per Per :?jO Per 500 Per 1000 Qrtr. Hm. Half Rm. 480 Shts. 2 Rms. :; Rms. [I. d. s. d. s. d. 8. d. s. d. s. d. 8. d. E. d. Plain... 0 4 0 6 0 6 Plain ... () 4 0 6 0 6 1 0 o charge Cameo ... 0 8 0 10 I 6 Cam(o frLm 0 8 0 10 1 0 1 9 3 0 Reoieffrom 1 6 "l. 6 4 0 Relit-f.. 1 0 1 I) 2 6 :; 0 11 6 Pure Guld or Hh'er. 3/fi per 100 imp. The above Prices refer to ordinary-..ized Dies only. and are ftubject to reductiun for Jarge quantitief:. UIoòLlic.... AS!-ORTRlJ COLoURS 10 PEH. C,.1\T EJ..IRA. -... Sample Boots of Xott Paptr GratIS and Poet Fret Upol Application. JIE þIIDI.(fI D EDU(Jlf!fIO qli COþIP/IXY, UlþIIltED, BIRMINGHAM & LEICESTER. (11) DIRECT SUPPLY SYSTEM. JJOU NJ REY'NOE,DS, ERDINGTON, Begs to inform the Public that he is prepared to supply COALS Of excellent quality, direct from the Pits in the CA:KNOCK CHASE and RUGELY Districts, at current prices, including delivery in single cart loads, from Birmingham, Erdington, or Sutton Rai1way Stations. Single truck loads, of not less than six tons, at merchants' prices, for cash only. Coals of all kinds delivered by Boat or Rail to any Wharf or Station. Wholesale Dealer in LIl\IE of every description. T'HE- :M J:SSES C'ANN.ING beg to call the attention of the Clergy and others interested in the furnishing of Churches to the SUPERIOR ECCL.Eì::)IASl'ICAL NEEDLE'YORK which they supply. Their VESTl\IENTS, ALTAR LINEN, BANNERS, and materialE' for Church Work are exceptionally good and moderate in price. Catalogue post free, on application. Catholic Repository for BOOKS, CRUCIFIXES, ROSARIES, IXCEXSE, and ever) Church Requisite. 7, LIVERY STREET, BIRMINGHAM. MA R YV A_L E O R P H A N AG E V PERRY BARR, NEAR BIRMINGHAM. The Orphanage is established for girls only and is under the care of the Sisters of :Mercy. Terms. for children under 10 years of age. ;C10 per annum; over 10 years, 12. For particulars apply to the 'Mother Superior, as above. (12) -....."... -.. .. ... ., - --- - 282.092 U. 4o BISHOP ULLATHORNE 282. 0 9 2 uæ4 0 ULL \HORNE ß\SHOP \ 116317 6;11