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GENERAL LITERATURE AND SciE
VOL. CXIV.
MARCH, 1922.
No. 684.
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CONTENTS.
VOL. CXIV. OCTOBER, 1921, TO MARCH, 1922
"A Divine Failure." M. G. Chad-
wick 674
"American Catholics in the War."
Thomas F. Burke, C.S.P., . . 475
American Spirit, The. George N.
Shuster 1
Da/in and Hardy. Joseph J. Reilly,
Ph.D., 629
Beginnings of a Novelist, The.
Albert B. Purdie, O.B.E., B.A., 787
Benedict XV., Pope. Edward A.
Pace, Ph.D 721
Catholic Community Life, A Mid-
Western Experiment in. James
Louis Small 793
Catholics, Social Organization of
Italian. J. P. Conry, ... 35
Catholic Social Worker in an
Italian District. Daisy H. Moseley, 618
Catholicism in Nationalist India,
Prospect for. G. B. Lai, . . 751
Chatterbox, A Jacobean. Joseph J.
Reilly, Ph.D 452
Christ, The Extra-Evangelican.
Edward Roberts Moore, M.A., . 289
Citizen, The Duties of the. John A.
Ryan, D.D 459
Civil Law, The Moral Obligation of.
John A. Ryan, D.D 73
Commerce and Finance, A Jesuit
Higher School of. J. Theyskens,
S.J 532
Council of Trent, Under Pius IV.,
The. Bertrand L. Conway, C.S.P., 589
Crusade, The Last. A. J. du P.
Coleman, 160
Dobson, Austin. F. Moynihan, . 232
Duties of the Citizen, The. John
A. Ryan, D.D 455)
Extra-Evangelican Christ, The.
Edward Roberts Moore, M.A., . 289
Failure of the Russian Church, The.
A. Palmieri, O.S.A., D.D., Ph.D., 199
Father Tahb, Of. Katherine Bregy,
Litt.D., 308
Father Zahm. John Cavanaugh,
C.S.C 577
Fighting Pacifist, A. Charles Phil-
lips 484
Galsworthy, John. May Bateman, 732
God Became Man, Why. Leslie J.
Walker, S.J., M.A., . . .42, 171
Holy Scripture, The Inspiration of.
Cuthbert Lattey, S.J., ... 14
Holy Scripture, The Text of.
Cuthbert Lattey, S.J 356
Holy Scripture, The Vulgate Trans-
lation of. Cuthbert Lattey, S.J., 641
Human Race, The; Its Unity of
Origin. J. Arthur M. Richey, . 433
India, Prospect for Catholicism in
Nationalist. G. B. Lai, . . 751
Inspiration of Holy Scripture, The.
Cuthbert Lattey, S.J. ... 14
Ireland and the Sea. James F. Cas-
sidy 774
Irish Books, Some Recent. Henry
A. Lappin, Litt.D., . . . 498
Italy, A Prophet in. Charles Phil-
lil>fi, M.A 210
Italy, The Rise of the People's
Party in. Giuseppe Quirico, S.J., 506
Jacobean Chatterbox, A. Joseph J.
Reillu, Ph.D 452
Jesuit Higher School of Commerce
and Finance, A. /. Theyskens,
S.J 532
Jugo-Slavia: A Modern Kingdom.
Herbert F. Wright, Ph.D., . . 667
Last Crusade, The. A. L du P.
Coleman, 160
Lily Lore. Harriette Wilbur, . 815
"Manning," Shane Leslie's. Henry
A. Lappin, Litt.D 25
Mid-Western Experiment in Cath-
olic Community Life, A. James
Louis Small, 793
Mithras and Mithraism. Sir Ber-
tram C. A. Windle, LL.D., . . 759
Modern Crusader, A. P. W. Browne,
D.D 370
Moral Obligation of Civil Law, The.
John A. Ryan, D.D 73
Near East Since the War, The.
Joseph Gorayeb, S.J., . . . 319
New York, A Papal Curiosity in.
James J. Walsh, M.D., Ph.D., . 221
Novelist, The Beginnings of a.
Albert B. Purdie, O.B.E., B.A., 787
Of Father Tabb. Katherine Bregy,
Litt.D., 308
Pacifist, A Fighting. Charles Phil-
lips 484
Papal Curiosity in New York, A.
James J. Walsh, M.D., Ph.D., . 221
Pius IV., The Council of Trent
Under. Bertrand L. Conway,
C.S.P., .589
Preaching the Gospel by Wireless.
Thomas F. Coakley, D.D., . . 516
Prophet in Italy, A. Charles Phil-
lips, M.A 210
Recent Events,
125, 269, 412, 558, 701, 845
Rights of the Citizen, The. John
A. Ryan, D.D., . . . .781
Rise of the People's Party in Italy,
The. Giuseppe Quirico, S.J., . 506
Romance. H. E. G. Rope, M.A., . 386
Russian Church, The Failure of the.
A. Palmieri, O.S.A., D.D., . . 199
Serbian Orthodox Church, The: Its
Relations with Rome and Con-
stantinople. F.- Aurelio Palmieri,
O.S.A., D.D., Ph.D 803
Shane Leslie's "Manning." Henry
A. Lappin, Litt.D 25
Social Organization of Italian Cath-
olics. J. P. Conry, ... 35
Social Worker, The Catholic in an
Italian Dictrict. Daisy H. Moseley, 618
Socialism or Democracy. Father
Cuthbert, O.S.F.C 145
Some Recent Irish Books. Henry
A. Lappin, Litt.D., . . . 498
Text of Holy Scripture, The.
Cuthbert Lattey, S.J., . . .356
Third Order of St. Francis Today,
The. Michael Williams, . . 89
Trappist Tryst, A. Hugh Anthony
Allen, M.A 607
Verlaine After Quarter of a Cen-
tury. William H. Scheifley, Ph.D., 189
Vulgate Translation of Holy Scrip-
ture, The. Cuthbert Lattey, S.J., 641
War, The Near East Since the.
Joseph Gorayeb, S.J., . . . 319
Wireless, Preaching the Gospel by.
Thomas F. Coakley, D.D., . 516
Why God Became Man. Leslie J.
Walker, S.J., M.A 42, 171
CONTENTS
in
STORIES.
A Loaf and a Fish. Laura Sim-
mons 381
Dedication. Marie Antoinette de
Roulet, 822
My Little Black Book. Charles C.
Conaty, ...... 55
The Coming of the Danes. Brian
P. O'Shasnain, .... 655
Thicker Than Water. Catalina Pdez, 237
Virginia, Aged Ten Years. Mabel
Farnnm 520
When the Gods Died. C. M. Waage, 333
POEMS.
A Silver Jubilee. E. H. F., . . 617
Ballade. Eleanore Myers Jewett, . 34
Bartimeus. Laura Simmons, . . 159
Behind the Bars. Brian Padraic
O'Shasnain 474
Confessional Prayer. Francis Carlin 666
Disarmament and Arlington.
Katharyn White Ryan, . . .355
Enshrined. Patrick Coleman, . 220
God. Francis Carlin, . . . 198
Gold. Sister M. Monica, . . 86
My Mother. Charles J. Quirk, S.J., 209
Nativity. Gertrude Robison Ross, 318
Ruysbroeck. Anna McClure Sholl, 483
St. John of the Cross. Anna Mc-
Clure Sholl
The Lovers. Charles J. Quirk, S.J.,
The Story of Jacopone da Todi.
M. 1
The Unknown Soldier. Martin
Francis, ......
To a Young Lady on Her Eighteenth
Birthday. /. Corson Miller,
Unseen! Charles J. Quirk, S.J.,
Vision. Brian Padraic O'Shasnain
Waste. Frances Maddock,
Wintry Winds. Harry Lee,
72
385
748
519
41
628
786
654
792
WITH OUR READERS.
"American Catholics in the War," 431
American Church in Rome, . . 712
Armistice Day, ..... 424
Benedict XV., 857
Birth Control, 570
Books for Prisons, .... 719
Catholic Boys' Brigade, . . .863
Catholic Charities Seventh National
Conference, ..... 863
Catholic Room Registry, . . . 575
Catholic Students in non-Catholic
Universities, 427
Centenaries, ..... 136
Citizenship The Ethical Ideal of, 139
Dante, 136
Dante Secretary Hughes' Tribute, 287
Development, ..... 424
Eugenics Second International Con-
gress, 283
Housing for Girls, . . . .575
Indifference The Virtue and Folly
of, 714
International Eucharistic Congress, 862
Irish Free State, . . . .568
Lay Organizations Catholic, . . 279
Missionary Ventures, . . . 142
N. C. W. C. Directory of Catholic
Colleges and Schools . . 427, 575
National Churches in Rome, . . 712
National Council of Catholic Men, 279
National Council of Catholic
Women, 279
Newman Clubs, .... 429
New York Apostolate Silver Jubi-
lee of, 718
Parochial Schools, . . . .572
Pius XL, 860
Post-Impressionism, . . . . 141
Preaching by Wireless, . . . 430
"Projects of Christian Union: A
Catholic View," . . . .717
Religious Education, . . .572
St. Dominic, 136
St. Francis, 136
S,t. Jerome, 136
Santa Susanna, 712
Social Service School for Women-
National Catholic, . . .282
"The Christian Mind," . . .861
The Lecture Guild, . . . .431
"The Problem of Reunion," . . 430
The Unknown Soldier, . . . 424
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
Abandonment to Divine Providence, 691
Adventures in the Arts, . . . 542
A Commentary on Canon Law, . 250
A Dictionary of English Church
History, 117
A Flower of Monterey, . . . 555
A General Introduction to the Bible, 546
A Gift from Jesus, . . . .266
A History of England, . . .255
A Hundred Voices, and Other Poems, 258
A Joyful Herald of the King of
Kings, 123
A Marine, Sir! 410
A Mediaeval Hun, .... 697
A Mill Town Pastor, . . . 120
A Modern Book of Criticism, . . 121
A Plea for Old Cap Collier, . . 697
A Practical Guide for Servers at
High Mass and for Holy Week, . 266
A Practical Philosophy of Life, . 123
A Salem Shipmaster and Merchant, 110
A Short History of the Papacy, . 689
A Son of the Hidalgos, . . .106
A Week-End Retreat, . . .557
An Enthusiast, 404
An Epitome of the Priestly Life, . 553
An Ocean Tramp, .... 260
Anthropos, 843
Apologetica quam in usum Audi-
toruin suorum concinnavit, . . 539
Archeology Series, .... 696
Ariosto, Shakespeare, Corneille, . 121
At Greenacres, 409
Autumn, ...... 556
Babette Bomerling's Bridegrooms, 408
Beatrice Nell' Allegoria Estetica
della Divina Commedia, . . 408
Biochemistry, 831
Bird-a-Lea, 264
Bobby in Movieland, . . .698
Bunch-Grass and Blue Joint, . . 265
Carmen Cavanagh, .... 555
Carrots, 410
Catholic Home Annual, . . . 266
Catholic Problems in Western Can-
ada, 122
Civic Science in the Home, . . 833
Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, . 108
Daisy, or the Flower of the Tene-
ments of Little Old New York, 265
iv
CONTENTS
Dante 402
Dante's Mystic- Love, . . . 540
!)< 1'ia-ceptis Dei et Kccleshe, . . 699
Dynastic- America and Those Who
Own It 107
Epitome Theologize Moralis, . . SI.'!
Essays and Addresses on the Phil-
osophy of Religion, . . . 544
Essays on Critical Realism, . . 828
Everyday Good Manners for Boys
and Girls 841
Exceptional Children and Public
School Policy, .... 265
Excursions in Thought, . . . 541
Familiar Astronomy, . . . 266
Famous Chemists, .... 538
Field Afar Stories, . . . .696
Firearms in American History, . 124
French Civilization, .... 103
From the Unconscious to the Con-
scious, 699
Gray Wolf Stories, . . . .697
Gold, 555
Greek Tragedy, 109
Greeks and Barbarians, . . . Ill
Handbook of Social Resources of
the United States, .... 556
Happy Hour Stories, . . . 697
Helpful Thoughts for Boys, . . 842
Herman Melville, Mariner & Mystic, 686
High School Catechism, . . .545
Hints to Pilgrims, . . . .102
Historical Records and Studies, . 397
His Reverence His Day's Work, . 692
How and Why Stories, . . .416
How France Built Her Cathedrals, 99
How Lotys Had Tea with a Lion, 410
Human Heredity, .... 407
Institutions Theologise Naturalis, . 395
In the Land of the Kikuyus, . . 404
Ireland Unfreed, . . . .556
John Martineau, .... 829
John Patrick, Third Marquess of
Bute, K.T., 687
Laramie Holds the Range, . . 407
La Darwinisme au Point de vue
de L'Orthodoxie Catholique, . 550
Life in a Mediaeval City, . . .406
Life of St. Francis of Assisi, . 552
Life's Lessons, ..... 700
Lost Ships and Lonely Seas, . .691
Louise Imogen Guiney, . . . 826
Man and His Past, . . . . 112
Manual of Christian Perfection, . 695
Marcus Aurelius, .... 105
Maria Chapdelaine, .... 837
Matters of Moment, .... 698
Meditations on the Litany of the
Holy Name, ..... 265
McLoughlin and Old Oregon, . . 837
Men and Steel, 121
Moral Principles and Medical Prac-
tice, 251
Mostly Mary, 410
Music Appreciation, .... 120
My Master's Business, . . . 844
Notes on Life and Letters, . . 100
On the Trail of the Pigmies, . . 688
Originality, and Other Essays, . 405
Ortus Christi, 840
Our Hellenic Heritage . . . 832
Our Lord's Discourses, . . . 403
Our Lord's Own Words, . . .264
Out of Their Own Mouths, . . 398
Paul Verlaine, 248
Playtime Stories, .... 699
Peeps at Many Lands, . . . 408
Poe, How to Know Him, . . 115
Post-Biblical Hebrew Literature, . 252
Poppy's Pluck, . . . 409
Practical Method of Reading the
Breviary, ..... 123
Prehistory, 399
Prize Stories of 1920, . . . .259
Quiet Interior, 698
Heading for the Workers, . . 557
Heal Democracy in Operation, . 120
Rebuilding a Lost Faith, . . 406
Reviews and Critical Papers, . . 551
Heynm-d the Fox, . . . .551
Roving East and Roving West, . 544
Saint John Berchmans, . . . 827
St. Paul: His Life, Work and Spirit, 259
Singing Beads, 264
Social Organization in Parishes, . 114
Some Modern French Writers, . 830
Songs for Christmas, . . . 266
Songs of Adoration, . . . .122
Spiritual Teaching of Father Se-
bastian Bowden of the London
Oratory, 693
Star Dust, 119
Supernatural Mysticism, . . 247
Teaching the Drama and the Essay, 841
The Age of the Reformation, . . 253
The Alternative, .... 122
The Anncs, 410
The Blessed Sacrament Guide Book, 266
The Case of Korea, .... 405
The Catholic Citizen, . . .830
The Celestial Circus, . . . 123
The Christmas Ideal To Make
God Known and Loved, . . 266
The Church and Her Members, . 696
The Church and the Problems of
Today, 114
The Coral Islands, .... 410
The Cuckoo Clock, . . . .410
The Custard Cup, .... 699
The Defence of Philosophic Doubt, 694
The Desert and the Rose, . . 119
The Direction of Human Evolution, 839
The Divine Motherhood, . . .700
The Economic History of Ireland
from the Union to the Famine, 536
The Essentials of Mysticism, . . 101
The Exercises of St. Gertrude, . 841
The Fiery Soliloquy of God, . . 695
The Formation of Character, . . 842
The Founding of a Northern Uni-
versity, 843
The Garden of the Soul, . . 266
The Girl in Fancy Dress, . . 118
The Girls of Highland Hall, . . 410
The Glories of Mary in Boston, . 554
The Golden Goat, . . . .257
The Great Schoolmen of the Middle
Ages, 685
The Greater Love, .... 123
The Grinding, 261
The Groping Giant: Revolutionary
Russia, 253
The Hare, Ill
The Irish Rebellion of 1641, . . 116
The King of the Golden City, . 409
The Knights of Columbus in Peace
and in War, ..... 833
The Labor Movement, . . .401
The Labor Problem and the Social
Catholic Movement in France, . 547
The Life and Letters of George A.
Lefroy, D.D., 256
The Life of Jean Henri Fabre, . 684
The Lone Scout, . . . .410
The McCarthy's in Early American
History, 118
The Morality of the Strike, . . 248
The Mother of Divine Grace, . . 121
The New Church Law on Matri-
mony, 104
CONTENTS
The New Stone Age in Northern
Europe, 543
The New Testament, . . . 546
The Next War, 110
The Norman and Earlier Medieval
Period, 840
The Paradise of the Soul, . . 842
The Parish School, . . . .263
The Passing of the Third Floor
Back, 697
The Path of Vision, . . . .263
The Philippines, Past and Present, 690
The Philosophy of Faith and the
Fourth Gospel, . . . .109
The Print-Collector's Quarterly, . 410
The Problems of Psychical Re-
search, 262
The Psalms, 537
The Religion of the Scriptures, . 400
The Salvaging of Christianity, . 254
The Saviour's Fountains, . . 410
The Silver Age of Latin Literature, 102
The Social Mission of Charity, . 391
The Story Book of the Farm, . . 251
The Story of Lourdes, . . . 403
The Story of Mankind, . . . 843
The Story of the Irish Race, . . 683
The Tree of Light, . . . .410
The Victory at Sea, .... 835
The Visible Church, . . . .113
The Windy Hill, . . . .410
The Word of God, . . . .838
The Works of Satan, . . .262
The Writer's Art, . . . .261
Their Friendly Enemy, . . . 698
Thought and Expression in the
Sixteenth Century^ . . . 102
Treasury of Indulgences, . . 699
Turns About Town, .... 692
Vade Mecum Theologise Moralis, . 553
Vigils, 402
Water Colors, 554
What Is Science? . . . .693
Will-Power and Work, . . .257
With Star and Grass, . . . 839
You and Yours, .... 537
PAMPHLET PUBLICATIONS.
After All, What Is the State, . . 267 Pascal's "Provincial Letters," . . 267
Report of Catholic Reading Guild, 267
Scholastic Philosophy Explained, . 267
Sodalities for Catholic Girls, . . 844
St. John Berchmans, . . .557
The Anglo-Japanese Alliance and
America, ...... 844
The Art of Making Altar Laces, . 844
The Beginning and End of Man, . 267
The Bishop and the Three Poor
Men, 844
The Church and Eugenics, . . 267
The Disarmament Conference at
Washington Will Be a Failure, . 844
The Foundations of Modern Ireland, 267
The Institute of the Good Shepherd,
Its Origin and Object, . . .557
The International Conciliation, . 844
The Laoor Question, . . . 844
The Loving Adorer of Jesus, . . 557
The Precious Blood, . . . 267
The Rosary, Its History and Use, . 557
The Terror in Action, . . .267
Thoughts for a Child of Mary, . 844
Washington Conference on the Lim-
itation of Armaments, . . . 844
What the Protestant Bible Says"
About the Catholic Church, . . 557
\Vhy I Came In, .... 267
Why Separate Schools, . . . 267
An Irish Pilgrim Priest, . . . 267
A Selection from a Child's Prayers
to Jesus, 844
Blessed Peter Canisius, . . . 267
Buddhism in Europe, . . . 267
Catechism for First Communion, 557
Catholics and the Bible, . . . 844
Catholics and the League of Na-
tions, 844
Columbus and the Sons of Our
Lady of Mercy, .... 557
Dante's Attitude Towards the
Church and the Clergy of His
Times, 844
Divine Faith, 267
Family Life, 557
Guide to the Student of Dante, . 267
History of the English Dominicans, 267
How Catholics Get Married, . . 557
I Am a Catholic Because I Am a
Jew, 267
Ireland and the Presidents of the
United States, . . . .267
Kahalekat, 844
Latin Hymns, ..... 844
Leading Features of the Practical
Plan of the Catholic Instruction
League, 557
Papal Infallibility, . . . .844
FOREIGN PUBLICATIONS.
A Manual of Canon Law, . . 124
Capitalisme et Communisme, . . 700
Catechisme Des Convenances Re-
ligieuses, 124
Cours Superieur de Religion, . . 700
De Sacramentis, .... 124
El Libro de la Mujer Espanola, . 411
Enfant, Que Feras-Tu Plus Tard, 124
Etudes de Critique et de Philologie
du Nouveau Testament, . . 124
Grandeurs et Devoirs de la Vie
Religieuse, ..... 124
Histoire Populaire de L'Eglise, . 124
Institutiones Juris Canonici, . . 124
Jesus and the Family, . . . 124
Jesus Vivant Dans Le Pretre, . 411
L'Ame de Saint Augustin, . . 700
Le Catholicisme de St. Augustin, 124
L'Egoisme Humain, .... 124
La Bienheureuse Marguerite de
Lorraine, . . . . .411
La Linguistique, .... 124
La Spiritualite Chretienne, . . 700
La Philosophic Moderne Depuis
Bacon Jusqu'a Leibniz, . . 411
Le Mystere de L'Incarnation, . . 124
Le Mystere de la Tres Sainte
Trinite, 124
Les Charismes du Saint-Esprit, . 700
Marcellin Champagnat, . . . 700
Maurice de Gueriii, .... 124
Monsignor d'Hulst, Apologiste, . 411
Pensees Choisies de Pascal, . . 411
Pheniciens Essai de Contribution a
PHistoire antique de la Medi-
terrane, 411
Plans de Sermons Pour les Fetes
de PAmiee, 411
Quinze Annees de Separation, . 700
Sanctiflons Le Moment Present, . 411
Sermons et Conferences Pour 1'annee
Liturgique, 124
Tentations et Taches de Femmes, . 700
Une Gloire de L'Eglise du Canada, 844
Un Precurseur de Bolchevisme,
Francisco Ferrer, .... 124
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THE
VOL. CXIV.
OCTOBER, 1921
No. 679
THE AMERICAN SPIRIT.
BY GEORGE N. SHUSTER.
I.
VERY once in a while there arises in us as a nation
the praiseworthy desire to find out what we are
really like "inside." People have been talking
and talking; at intervals, no longer leisurely, a
journalist appears in New York harbor, takes a
taxicab to the Biltmore, the Twentieth Century Limited to
Chicago, and a special train to the District of Columbia.
Shortly afterward, we are regaled with variations on several
standard themes: the impressiveness of our grain-elevators,
the sky-line of Toledo, Ohio, Chicago poets, and college foot-
ball. Our idealism is admired with a smile; our lack of ar-
tistic sensibility is deplored, and our natural resources (of
which the great journalist receives a comfortable sample) are
declared magnificent. Occasionally, some less popular guest
stays long enough to venture successfully a bit of illuminative
criticism, but it is only a bit after all. Again, some of our more
radical compatriots indite books in which the chaos of Amer-
ican life is duly contrasted with the superb, though isolated,
symmetry of the author's philosophy. And the upshot of the
whole business is that laudable question : "What are we really
like?" Some of us are growing a little impatient for the
answer. Nobody seems able to discover behind the vague for-
mula of "Americanism" anything like a formative spirit.
COPYRIGHT. 1921. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE
IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK.
VOL. cxiv. 1
2 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT [Oct.,
There is no obvious tradition, no apparent collective effort.
We resemble some rather turbulent ocean, in constant up-
heaval, but never "getting anywhere."
Nevertheless, there are discernible in our life as a nation
certain definite spiritual forces, not all of which have been
eminently desirable, but which, generally, have been suf-
ficiently self-conscious for expression. It is the melee resultant
from their interaction which makes us what we are: and a
tentative effort to disentangle this is all that we shall try to do
here. The scope of American life has been regal, involving
so complex and thrilling a migration of souls, so evident, and
yet so disguised, a shifting of moral course, that one feels
constantly in the presence of tremendous drama. It is true
that we have given these things no adequate expression. Liter-
ature, always the log-book of the national soul, is with us only
vague reading. Still, for all its brusqueness and incoherence,
the tale has been written with some attempt, even, at art.
One naturally begins the story where it began. Among the
numerous vessels of discovery, the Mayflower is almost the
only one popularly remembered by name. The reason for this
rather peculiar fact is that the Puritan stepped from its deck.
He is a strange figure, not altogether attractive, but it is he
who made America and whose character explains so largely
the product. It must be borne in mind that he came to estab-
lish not freedom, but the Puritan, and that he succeeded rather
well. Of equal importance is the fact that living in primitive
America he was free from the volatile influence of the past, and
could be serious to his heart's content. As one reads the
sober, Hebraic accounts of that straight-jacketed Colonial life,
one cannot help agreeing with Cotton Mather that "the devil
was exceedingly surprised when he perceived such a people
here." And they allowed the Evil One no respite. The fu-
rious persecution of witches, a harrowing affair not altogether
bottomless, was, like modern Spiritism, the product of a gen-
eration that looked steadily at hell, but quite forgot the exist-
ence of heaven. Never has a people dwelt more intimately
with thoughts of perdition than the Puritans: they made a
veritable atlas of the netherworld, building, with remorseless
fervor, ghastly cities for the damned. Yet, despite this fear-
ful intellectual energy, the Puritan was really weak. He was
a fighter like Cromwell, but not so great and grim; he was a
1921.] THE AMERICAN SPIRIT 3
poet like Milton, but not nearly so great and grim. It is sig-
nificant that there came out of his ranks no supreme warrior
like Grant or Lee, no master-poet like Lanier, Poe or Tabb,
and no towering statesman like Jefferson or Lincoln. He did
do something for education and even for Democracy, but his
most enduring achievement was putting the seal of reticence
upon America's lips. It has not yet been broken.
This odd and rigorous reserve of speech was entirely the
result, not of conscience which everybody has, but of the habit
of suspending a microscope over that conscience. As the
Puritan neared hell, he seemed to congeal, to freeze with fear.
The sexual reticence which hangs over American art is not
Victorian drapery, but frost, and the sad trouble is that when
it thaws there are ugly streaks. One must admit, however,
that there was a praiseworthy nobleness about all this Spartan-
ism; an intense hardness of intellect and will that stood and
struck like steel. When Thanksgiving Day was celebrated
in the shadow of Indian massacres, when the fighting farmers
stayed put at Lexington, when the knell of slavery was
sounded, the Puritans sang their way to death with hymns that
roll with the ominous stolidity of stones. Such firmness can
fashion heroic pioneers. And if the American woman, like
Lot's wife, did turn (very nearly) into a pillar of salt, she at
least averted corrosion. It is to be regretted that she has not
been able to figure either in realism or romance; but the
average American is secretly glad that she was his mother.
Puritanism never truly entered literature until it had com-
promised, but it did color subsequent writing with its abste-
mious gray, or rather it acted like a control-lever on the na-
tional heart. Its own productions are scarcely worth pre-
serving even as history, consisting as they do of insipid hymns
and boresome tracts, which attain occasionally to a sombre
dignity, as in Jonathan Edwards' treatise, On the Will,
or Julia Ward Howe's "Battle-hymn." In general, this liter-
ature was mere twaddling on raucous strings, and its atmos-
phere was as humorless as a death chamber. For a long
while novels and drama were kept in subjection as mere un-
godliness, but finally the greatest artist of American Puritan-
ism sat down to write the story of sin. Nathaniel Hawthorne
was haunted by beauty which, however, never conquered him,
but shadowed his mind as something intangible and lonely,
4 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT [Oct.,
something that reaked of a splendid witchery and was just
as unfathomable. This shy and inflexible artist dwelt with
the problem of evil, and in The Scarlet Letter looked deeper
into the human heart than any other American of his time.
About all his work there is a delicate, vibrant imagination that
pierces life like a rapier, but with almost the same objective-
ness. Primarily his tales and novels are statuesque fairy
stories, Red Riding Hoods made of luminous granite. It is
worthy of note that when he finally came in touch with the
older, symbolic art of Europe, he was bewildered and almost
hurt. The Marble Faun uncovers the incorrigible Puritanism
of its author.
The man who looks best inside the elusive Hawthorne is
the blunt farmer-poet, Whittier. Nobody would look to him
for melody, religious experience or dreams; but in his rise
from the soil Whittier brought along not only the ruggedness
of the landscape, but also the vigor of the field. No other poet,
even in New England, has said "Right" so emphatically and
"Wrong" so fanatically. He put the Puritan conscience into
angular quatrains and nailed the lids. And yet, because he
was really a fervent Quaker, his harshness is saved every-
where from cruelty. Having seen slavery and other matters
that wounded his heart, he cried out fiercely; but his primal
interest was peace. Love of nature and of the simple domestic
joys of farm life cast a cheerful glow over Snowbound, his
masterpiece. No other strictly Puritan poet attained such
stature. Only in the twentieth century, in the figure of Robert
Frost, has there appeared a singer to tell the farmhouse story
in an equally autochthonous way.
II.
It was inevitable that Puritanism, always an exclusive
cult, should degenerate into a caste. For the doors of the
American world were gradually thrown open: cargoes of
people came in, and cargoes of books. Neither had been se-
lected with discrimination, but they did a world of good. The
nice provincialism of early days was gradually ground to bits
and blown like fine sand over cornfields and mining towns,
mushroom cities, and extremely serious colleges. As Thomas
More, in his far-off day, had looked eastward to the Athenian
dawn, so the best of the Americans opened their windows to
1921.] THE AMERICAN SPIRIT 5
Europe and began also to construct Utopias on a land they
scarcely knew. This business of retrospection was sporadic,
but finally successful. Our trouble to this day is not that we
have looked to Europe, but that Europe is not altogether a
good thing to look at. In two overlapping streams the Prot-
estant culture and the modern philosophy rolled in upon us,
and for a while bade fair to bowl us over. The Puritan
struggled in the waters but did not drown; indeed, his share in
establishing the first great political ideal of America, inde-
pendence, was great and commendable. However, that finer,
broader dream, Democracy, really sprang up in the South,
where Rousseau found a disciple in Jefferson and thereby
wrote the first Contrat Social. The Virginian was a pacific
deist without the brilliant wit of Voltaire; nevertheless, he is
a greater man, for he was really a Democrat. Others may
deserve more credit for the actual structure of American gov-
ernment, but it was Jefferson who laid the immutable founda-
tion, which is liberty.
Although the Declaration was signed and the Constitution
written before the opening of the nineteenth century, the intel-
lectual independence of America really began later on. We
had escaped from the shell, but it took time to learn how to
stand on two feet. The first successful efforts for the liberation
of the national spirit were made by Irving and Cooper, pur-
veyors of romance. Neither became quite satisfactorily a man
of the world, but they left globe-trotting children: Rip Van
Winkle, Leatherstocking and Tom Coffin. Moreover, though
both were aristocrats, they wrote for America that folklore
which is so indispensable a part of popular civilization.
Meanwhile, however, two great poets began the battle for
Democracy in the very stronghold of the Puritan. To place
Longfellow and Whitman on the same intellectual story may
be a critic's sin, but it is historical common sense. The virtues
of both have been challenged, and justly; the faults of both
have been forgotten, charitably. But between them was fought
out a very exciting contest for the common people, and the
victory is still in doubt. Longfellow saw, attenuated with dis-
tance and dim with twilight, the shining towers of mediaeval
Christendom; Whitman, with a certain raucous egoism, beheld
the ancient horn of Triton in the hands of a German professor.
This was the real issue between them, despite the extraneous
6 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT [Oct.,
quarrels about Longfellow's hexameters and Whitman's lack
of them. Both strung their lyres to greet Democracy, and both
failed to meet with the expected response. Longfellow was
too weak and outnumbered a man to bring into America the
Christian saints; Whitman was too much of an egoist to keep
them out permanently. But when all has been said, the people
preferred Longfellow; his simple songs fitted into their homes
with a touch of beautiful friendliness that went to their hearts.
They knew the Blacksmith and Paul Revere; even Evangeline
was one of them. And despite the attempt of intellectuals to
appeal to foreign judgment for a deification of Whitman, it
needs no great learning to realize that the people of England
and the Continent have never heard of him, though they de-
light in Longfellow.
Here the rift in Puritanism was already wide enough to
admit the breath of the Middle Ages and of the Greek heyday,
but the battle for freedom was fought out even more bluntly
in prose. The most exclusive families of Boston supplied two
men, the witty and urbane Doctor Holmes and the broad, inter-
esting man of letters, James Russell Lowell. The latter, an
optimistic Matthew Arnold, read many books and criticized
them well, but he did even better things: he put before the
world a New England "Courtin," a Yankee politician, and the
quiet grandeur of Lincoln. Lowell not only understood De-
mocracy, but he had hopes for it, splendid hopes that honor
the man, though they have never been realized.
Meanwhile, Ralph Waldo Emerson, a sharp, ascetic, young
clergyman, had preached an heretical sermon in the Boston
house of prayer. By nature, he was a Puritan, but he had
become intoxicated with things beyond the pale. Not only had
the time come when the world would throw off the trance of
hell, but eager minds were full of the weird, incoherent mysti-
cism of Swedenborg and the unbalanced idealism of the earlier
Teutons. From these to the scientific pantheism of a later
time was only a step, which Emerson made and yet did not
make, like a boy learning to walk on stilts. He never really
took his own advice about hitching the wagon to a star; he
tried to skip from one to another vaguely, erratically, confident
that the brightest orb was his own soul. In general, Emerson
resembles a man forever fumbling with his glasses, yet always
boasting of his vision. However, though not a philosopher, he
1921.] THE AMERICAN SPIRIT 7
saw something clearly for the reason that he was a poet. He
knew that it was time to stop being a Puritan, that a Democ-
racy needs ideals and, most of all, individuals. With a smile
(Emerson never laughed) he tossed Jonathan Edwards' devils
into the fire; but he preached with emphasis the freedom of
the will. More than this he did not accomplish, and the world,
fond of a few sparkling sentences, will not pause to decipher
the dreamy messages that he thought were his.
Emerson had during his life a very skilled antagonist.
Whatever was inconsistent in the Transcendental doctrine,
whatever vagaries had come to America with the new philos-
ophy, were gruffly handled by another great, though nearly
forgotten, Puritan, Orestes A. Brownson, who was converted
to the Church at a time when that step was distinctly unpop-
ular. He was a man with the intransigeant soul of Veuillot;
a giant, tireless mind with no gift for poetry, but instead a scin-
tillant sweep of intellect. He pounced upon amorphous state-
ments and spineless syllogisms with the regularity and energy
of a machine. One who skims over the vast fields of his solid
journalism cannot understand how he managed to rout so
many weeds. Brownson was a hard man who should not be
forgotten, but who cannot be loved. He had nothing within
him that is timeless or can stand apart from the matters of his
day. We regard him now as the first belligerent champion of
American Catholicism, long despised, but gradually grown
strong with the coming of devoted Irish and Southern Ger-
mans. The American Newman, when he comes, will be a half
Emerson, half Brownson. He is sorely needed.
Nevertheless, the Christian tradition for which Columbus
had originally risked his life, which the heroic Jesuits of
Canada had carried on foot, with so much glory, to the inmost
wilds, and which was spread out very thinly over the whole
land, did have its protagonists. On the fringes of the Louis-
iana canebreaks there had gathered a motley neighborhood
of Spaniards, French, Indians and, later, negroes; they lived
out a semi-feudal existence, with all the grace and faults of a
declining Christian age. The individuality and charm of this
people is preserved to the indefinable word, "Creole," which
George W. Cable and Grace King have since endeavored to
explain in romance that has a flavor all its own. Moreover, the
South of Lee and Jackson, which recognized the abyss of
8 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT [Oct.,
slavery and strove honestly to bridge it, was the nearest ap-
proximation to the ideal of chivalry that America has known.
The life of General Lee is our finest national poem; he was a
man whose love and battle were as mystically exalted as those
of Arthur, and his greatest victory was also dark, pathetic
defeat. There blew through all that vital time of the Southern
rebellion a muffled wind of romanticism, that walked in the
awful shadow of slavery with some of the fervor and gayety of
the Christian days. Men did not know what beauty had risen
from the American ground until that ground was soaked with
blood and the novelists surveyed it, sympathetically, from a
more callous and more worthless era. Moreover, in one of
our greatest poets, another aspect of medisevalism manifested
itself: the terror of Poe and his use of gruesome symbolism.
This visionary, who led his life absolutely alone except for a
brief, tragic love, had somehow imbibed that morbid intro-
spection which later seized upon the French decadents. In-
explicably, this ghostly ghastliness is bound up with the roots
of Christendom, perhaps because the faith was born in tombs;
at least, it was along this route that Baudelaire, Villiers and
Huysmans later came into the light of Catholic faith.
In general, however, the era of which the Civil War was
the nucleus pined in an atmosphere of sentimentality and
mental debility. Religion had become, even with Daniel Web-
ster, a mere matter of "kindness, justice and brotherly love."
Architecture was abominable, journalism worse, and informa-
tion very second-rate. Literature was limited to charming
vers de societe, and a pocketful of sober thinking. Neverthe-
less, the idealistic energy which threw the nation into the Civil
War was stupendous. As a period this war was dominated
clearly in the North by Lincoln, whose speeches combine the
geometry of Euclid with the homely art of splitting rails. His
great, sad face illumines the first page of that bloody book
like an etching of Consecration by a Flemish master. Men
lived faith, then, and if they had not wearied at the game and
turned completely to economics the story of their descendants
would, perhaps, have been different. It was out of the South,
loyal to the older beliefs of America, that the finest spiritual
results came. There was born out of anguish and chaos the
most artistic body of verse that we have produced. Most of it
was signed by four men : Sidney Lanier, Irwin Russell, Father
1921.] THE AMERICAN SPIRIT 9
Ryan and Father Tabb. Lanier was a broken Confederate
soldier with a broken lyre, but he is the only American poet
who saw, magnificently, things beyond the horizon; everyone
who would realize how close we came* to having a brother to
Francis Thompson should read the "Symphony," where the
conception and style have not a little intense Gothic quality.
Irwin Russell, first of the negro interpreters, sang in a group of
spirited dialect ballads of that tragic black man whose blood is
on our hands and whom we have left in the ditch where we
have "emancipated" him. Of Father Ryan and Father Tabb it
is enough to say that they strung the beautiful loves of the
priest, which Lacordaire has described so intimately, on a
rosary of winged lyrics that are as small and complex as
microcosms. The South was full of glaring faults, especially
aristocratic pride, but the people of the Virginian country
stood for the shreds of the Christian standard amid the ruins
of their own tradition; this in itself is sufficient evidence for
the bravery, the nobleness, of that tradition.
The Puritans of the North gradually bleached their skins
with artistic realism and the thin paste of intellectualism.
Society round about them gorged itself with a primitive nat-
uralism that was quite ostensibly silver-plated. Thoreau, a
keen-faced, flinty-minded, insect-hunting individualist, saw
clearly the increasing barrenness of the American world and
fled it as instinctively as an anchorite. He was a genuinely
original man with a strange composite passion for Walden
pond and Greek. The trouble is that for all his clarity of
vision, he was too blind to go farther than himself. There is
no force in him because there is no movement, and the poor
fellow will eventually become a curio in an intellectual
museum, whose atmosphere he would have despised. The
rest of the Northerners went a-hunting, and brought back Ger-
mans, Russians and pessimistic Frenchmen. Mr. Henry James
studied them all from Turgenieff to "Gyp," observed a great
deal, and, finally, adopted a cosmopolitan sestheticism which
ought to be called the Higher Mathematics of Psychology. Mr.
William Dean Howells, a genius cursed with refinement, a
writer whose books keep, nevertheless, the Puritan chastity
and a powerful individual charm, studied Heine first and Tol-
stoi afterward, and successfully ironed out of his soul any
feeling that was belligerently vital. No sane person will suffer
10 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT [Oct.,
insomnia from reading these books, and despite their admir-
able purpose and workmanship they are traveling with the
irresistible force of gravity to anemic libraries. Various
artists, particularly of the short-story, acquired not a little of
the cruelty of Maupassant and the skepticism of Anatqle
France; in general, however, we owe a larger and sadder debt
to the more ruthless Parisian naturalists and their English
disciples, not, indeed, for their genuine art, but for their dismal
science.
However, we must not forget that the American who had
wandered over the mountains and deserts to the forests of the
Middle West and thence farther to the gold fields of California,
began to tell stories about himself. Generally, he started with
a laugh, and kept it up heartily. Out in the great clearings
was born that terrible reputation for humor that has so inces-
santly dogged us. One of the first to gain such fame was
Artemus Ward, a gentleman, almost a rough, uncut Thack-
eray, who made fun of everybody's foibles with misspelled
English, and did it so good-naturedly that he ought really
not to be forgotten. Bret Harte proved an exception, for his
whole-hearted love for Dickens led him to shed tears copiously
whenever occasion demanded. The distance from tears to
laughter is never very great, and there was much to laugh at;
it was an era of cheap art and of perfervid eloquence over
things not understood. The expedition of tourists to Europe
had begun, doubtless, to the delight of Continentals with a
little imagination and a taste for money. A journalist, whose
name was Mark Twain, kept a log of a very decorously con-
ducted tour; this was published with riotous success, and the
era of sham-breaking had begun. Everything in the world is
more or less imperfect and, therefore, a fit subject for a joke,
especially if one is somewhat ignorant but quick-witted.
Clemens, the iconoclast, was nothing more than a Puritan
dressed up a plainsman and skeptical of hell, a droller Puritan,
indeed, than Calvin, but not necessarily a more discerning one.
He did have a clear eye for local color and a firm conviction
that nineteenth century Democracy was the ultimate in human
achievement. But he lacked the stern, old fibre of the New
England Puritan; his attempt to joke with life ended with his
own collapse, in his discovery that he himself was a sham.
And the last word about Mark Twain is his tragedy.
1921.1 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT 11
III.
The upshot of this later, non-traditional enthusiasm for
Democracy was cynicism. America investigated her house,
and found a great many shoddy places which nobody knew
how to fix. The narrow, old fire of Puritanism sank and
smoldered in its ashes, but there was nothing to take its place.
So the nation staggered on like a drunken man trying to keep
his legs and distraught with hallucinations. Institutions began
to sag; the intellectualism which we had so carefully absorbed
and with which we strove to supplant what vestiges of the
Christian tradition remained with us, corroded the vessels
of our thought. Journalism, heaven knows, has wrought havoc
enough everywhere, but in America its chief crime has been
uselessness. In general, it has had almost no understanding
of the old ideals of Democracy, for which America was
created: our highest political telos was apparently the Pro-
tective Tariff. More than that, the popular press became ulti-
mately the property of the commercial classes who used it
relentlessly to further the dreams and pleasure of the "tired
business man." Soporific phrase! The resulting naturalistic
languor, the absolute indifference of the general public to art
in any form, the drab treacle of aestheticism, and the sprawling
subservience to various fleshy gods, gave to Doctor Johnson's
definition of patriotism a terrible aptness. Under the guidance
of Poor Richard's Almanac, a race of pioneers and homely
philosophers was slowly being remade into a tribe of clerks!
From end to end of America, the time-gods hung out their
bunting and shot their clanking adages at the passerby. The
universities, harboring quite largely a colony of mildly skep-
tical savants who imported the latest things from Germany
and England, mingled the turmoil of football games with a
few Darwinian dicta. Artist after artist, gently bewildered,
professed his inability to understand the new era, or else
understood it only too well and wrote accordingly. Those in
whom Puritanism lingered, took refuge in an older time and
wrote romance from nowhere. Hence, the uncanny profes-
sionalism, the absolute insincerity, and the amazing atechnie
of most American fiction.
Against all of this, there appeared a great many rebels.
12 THE AMERICAN SPIRIT [Oct.,
The peculiar condescension with which the Catholic Church
has been treated in America has forced it to do most of its
good work in silence, which we shall not attempt to uncover.
Most of the other enemies of the time-spirit were journalists
or critics with well-thumbed Ibsens in their pockets. We
began to hear a great deal about the proletariat and a Future,
in fact, about all the final decadence of Europe. The majority
of these rebels were quaint, interesting egoists who added to
the general melee hectic statements about Democracy, which
they believed in only when it believed in them. Others were
aristocrats of their own making, who gazed scornfully upon
the madding crowd and proclaimed the all-importance of the
last thing they had happened to imagine. Sex, too, was dis-
covered and given a salacious prominence that it had never
enjoyed in wildest Bohemia. Endless was (and is) the number
of up-to-the-minute poets with crooked rhythms and philos-
ophies of life, but hiding a saving bit of dynamite somewhere
in their hearts. Novelists galore rescued their heroes from
surrounding society by some system or other : the "chemistry
of life," Socialism, Spiritism, free-love and artistic ennui were
tied in the race for popular favor. Indeed, the distintegration
of intelligence could scarcely have been carried further. Our
break with the central traditions of history had resulted in the
setting-up of a thousand interrogation points deemed unan-
swerable, in a gradual, certain weakening of social ties and,
worst of all, in the attempt of the rationalistic professor to
substitute sociological experiments for the spiritualization of
Democracy.
Then, suddenly, a great and composite people, a large
share of whom were not even in possession of the full rights
of citizenship, were summoned to battle for a principle about
which they knew nothing tangible. Their vigorous answer is
known to all the world. Half unconsciously, the Mayflower,
which had fled from Christian tradition, was wrought into a
numberless fleet whose dim goal was the rescue of that tradi-
tion ! It is true that the memory of this great struggle is now
something we forget with pleasure or recall with contempt.
Every purpose we had officially proclaimed was dropped
somehow into the discard; and the one clear truth that im-
pressed itself upon the majority of us was bitter experience of
the carefully veneered illiberality, the spurious glitter, of the
1921.] THE AMERICAN SPIRIT 13
civilization for which the great Americans had died in vain.
Almost symbolically, the men who had seemed the fairest
torches of our national vision were snuffed out. Roosevelt, the
only smith-like energy felt in our politics since Lincoln, died
unflinchingly, though the blow was cruel. Joyce Kilmer, whose
brave glad heart seemed the fountain of new and manly song,
lay suddenly still, like a broken flower at a shrine.
All that has passed, forever. We are too near the new
life to understand it fully, but, evidently, the great struggle
now is between disillusionment and hope, between reaction
that is too gray and revolution that is too red. Men realize
that some rule must be found to believe in and go by. Thought
is critical, brilliant with journalistic satire, uproariously
egoistic. As for ourselves, we feel that never has the oppor-
tunity or the need of the Catholic spirit been so very great.
After all, the tradition of Christendom has long been disil-
lusioned from the makeshifts of modern culture: for four
hundred years it has been a mute sermon on the subject of
Return. After all, too, it has long been magnificently hopeful.
When, in the darkest days of Amiens, Marshal Fayolle heard
whispers of despair, he said with splendid firmness : "We shall
sing Alleluia in the Cathedral." And, from the beginning, the
pledge of Catholic belief to the despondent individual or the
broken society has been ultimate rejoicing in the eternal edi-
fice of God.
May the words ring loud! Our task here and now is to
engraft upon the expression of American life, as we have heard
it, the words that are the timeless testament of Christendom.
Ruild up the best that our fathers have said with the wisdom
of Augustine, Bernard, Thomas and Dante, to make a living
tree of guidance that shall bring forth the fruit of peace.
Steer the Mayflower into better seas, having resolved that
Democracy shall be more than even "normalcy;" that it must
be, not a sign-post, but a maker of signs.
THE INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE.
j
BY CUTHBERT LATTEY, S.J.
II.
T the outset of an essay upon this subject justice
demands that the writer should acknowledge a
heavy debt to Father Christian Pesch's work, De
Inspirations Sacrss Scripturse, 1 at once a monu-
mental study of the subject, and a model of right
method. The first part of this work deals with the history of
the doctrine, and contains copious extracts; the second, or
dogmatic part, is built upon the first, and contains frequent
references to it. This seems to be the one safe and scientific
way of handling any dogma; the first function of theology is
to analyze the deposit of faith, to discover what are the truths
contained in Scripture and Tradition, and for this purpose
nothing can be more useful than to lay before the student the
relevant texts in chronological order. Some points he will
find clear and explicit from the outset, others become so at a
definite point of history, such as the Council of Trent, others
again are still being discussed, and the Church is still develop-
ing their full significance. A good example of a teaching
manual constructed upon this method is to be seen in Pere
BainveFs De Scriptura Sacra. 2
In a short article, however, it is evident that such a treat-
ment cannot be attempted, and it must suffice, for the justifica-
tion of much that is said, to refer to the work of Father Pesch
just cited. Our own brief consideration of the subject had best
make beginning from the fundamental fact of Divine author-
ship. The Vatican Council, after rejecting certain errors,
declares emphatically that the Church holds the books of the
Old and New Testament for sacred and canonical "because,
having been written under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost,
they have God for author, and have been delivered to the
Church herself as bearing this character" (ut tales).
1 St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co. 1906. a Paris: Gabriel Beauchesne. 1910.
1921.] INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE 15
How is God author? He appropriates, as it were, the
faculties of the human writer, working upon intellect and will
to produce a definite piece of writing, and so arranging matters
by His external Providence that the human writer's inspired
desire to commit to writing his inspired thought is successfully
carried out. "By His supernatural power He so excited and
moved them to write, He so assisted them while they wrote,
as that all those things, and only those things, which He Him-
self ordered, they should both rightly conceive with their mind,
and should wish to write down faithfully, and should express
fitly with infallible truth; otherwise He would not Himself be
the author of the whole of sacred Scripture." These are the
words wherein Pope Leo, in the Providentissimus Deus (No-
vember 18, 1893), analyzes the process of inspiration. But it
may be well to go on at once to translate Father Pesch's set
definition: "Biblical inspiration is a charismatic enlightening
of the intellect and motion of the will and Divine assistance
bestowed upon the sacred writer, to the end that he may write
all those things and only those things which God wishes to be
written in His name and delivered to the Church." 3
This definition it will now be our purpose to examine.
The enlightening of the intellect and the motion of the will
are said to be "charismatic," because their primary object is
not the sanctification of the person concerned, nor have they
a place in the ordinary course of God's supernatural dealings
with the individual soul. When, for example, the author of
the second book of Machabees was engaged in abridging the
five books of Jason of Gyrene, 4 the fact that his mind was
working under Divine influence, that his abridgment was
taking just the form which God wished it to take, did not of
necessity mean that he was any the holier for it, and in any
case it was not that particular form of Divine influence that
made him the holier. In this sense God's action upon him was
"charismatic," a convenient term taken from the "charismata"
or "gifts" of a like nature which form the subject of First
Corinthians, chapter twelve.
As the term "charismatic" is much abused in certain
modern theories of the early Christian ministry, it may be
wise to refer the reader to Father Keogh's excellent appendix
on the subject of this latter in First Corinthians (Westminster
8 Page 437, section 428. *2 Machabees ii. 24 (23).
16 INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE [Oct.,
Version), and especially to his remarks about "charismata"
on page fifty-five. Here it must suffice to point out that such
"gifts" as those of tongues and prophecy resembled that of
inspiration in being given primarily for the benefit of the com-
munity, rather than for that of the individual receiving them;
and so the word "charismatic" has been formed from these
"charismata."
The human writer puts down "those things, which God
wishes to be written in His name;" these words signify the
Divine authorship already spoken of. "Delivered to the
Church;" Father Pesch, as will be seen, is here echoing the
words of the Vatican Council, quoted previously, and we may
now examine their significance. To inspiration, they add the
note of canonicity. Supposing someone were to maintain that the
Imitation of Christ, let us say, or the Spiritual Exercises of St.
Ignatius, were inspired, there would be nothing contrary to
the Catholic faith in that. Such a view might be held as a
pious opinion, neither accepted nor rejected by the Church.
But with Holy Writ it is different; the inspiration of the books
of Scripture is part of the deposit of faith, and is taught by the
Church as such. As in the case of some other dogmas, the
final fixing of the canon of the Scriptures took many centuries;
it was the Council of Trent that closed all discussion by its
solemn definition, and that because of Protestant errors.
On the other hand, in the case of this, as of all other
dogmas, the deposit of faith must be held to have been closed
at the end of the apostolic age; all that followed was only the
better realization of the deposit already made. Now it is the
very fact that the inspiration of a book is itself part of the
deposit of faith and of the official teaching of the Church, that
makes that book, not merely inspired, but canonical Scripture;
it has been "delivered to the Church" as inspired, the Church
is the official guardian both of the book and of the very truth
that it is inspired, which latter must be believed by the faith-
ful, not as a pious opinion, but as an article of faith. The book
plays a public and official part in the Church, as a recognized
channel of revelation; the theologian and the exegete examine
what Almighty God may have revealed therein to the Church
on the subject of faith and morals; it plays a part in the liturgy,
and in other ways is honored and esteemed as the word of God.
We have no certain ground for saying that everything inspired
1921.] INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE 17
is in the canon of Scripture, but all canonical Scripture is
inspired.
The term "canonical" may now be held sufficiently ex-
plained, but certain other words may be examined, in order
to a still clearer notion of inspiration. Revelation is a direct
communication from God, delivered externally by vision or by
words alone, or internally by action upon imagination or intel-
lect. The phenomena of Christian experience, such, for ex-
ample, as those discussed by Father Thurston, S.J., in
the Month, 5 or recounted in the Life of Gemma Galgani by
Father Germanus, C.P., 6 indicate the possibility that sound or
sight may have had noihing physical corresponding to them
outside the recipient of the revelation, even while ruling out of
court the hypothesis of sheer delusion. Almighty God can
work directly upon the inner sense no less than upon the
outer; or He may communicate directly with the intellect
itself. To examine the various possibilities at length, however,
belongs rather to a study of prophecy or mysticism; those who
wish to do so will find it useful to study the late Pere Poulain's
The Graces of Interior Prayer, 7 especially chapter twenty.
Revelation was essential to a prophet, who also received a mis-
sion to deliver to some person or persons the truth revealed
to him; but it is not an essential feature in inspiration. The
author of Second Machabees, for example, may have acquired
his knowledge of what he came to write simply from the study
of Jason of Gyrene; when he was actually writing his own
work, the Divine action was upon his intellect and will, but by
way of inspiration, guiding his intellect, but not of necessity
revealing any truth directly to it.
Indeed, it does not seem necessary to suppose that the
writer was even conscious of inspiration; there seems no good
reason to deny that God could act unperceived on intellect and
will, as He seems frequently to do in the case of actual grace.
Yet what is actually written under inspiration, and all of it,
is truly called revelation, because it has God for author; and
that even though we could have known, or do know, the truths
in question from other sources. Revelation, then, is not es-
sential to the process of inspiration, to the appropriating of the
writer's faculties by God, to the making an instrument, albeit
5 August-December, 1920 : "Limpias and the Problem of Collective Hallucination."
"London: Sands & Co., 1914, pp. 115-117.
7 English translation. London : Kcgan Paul. 1912.
VOL. cxiv. 2
18 INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE [Oct.,
a human instrument, of him; but everything that is inspired
is in virtue of that very fact also revealed, precisely because
the writer has been an instrument whereby God has spoken
His mind. The result is revelation, though the process of
revelation need not, of course, take written shape; it is no way
essential to revelation that it should be written. Every word
that Our Lord spoke, for example, was true revelation, the
utterance of God.
Another term that it will be useful to bring into com-
parison at this stage is "infallibility." Infallibility in a person
or persons may be described as the impossibility of their
judging or asserting what is false; but in so far as we apply the
term in a technical sense to Church and Pope, it signifies an
impossibility limited by certain conditions. The Church is
infallible, that is to say, the ecclesia docens, the Church teach-
ing, the body of bishops as a moral whole, with the Holy
Father at their head; and these are infallible, either when they
are defining articles of faith in a general council, or when, in
the ordinary exercise of their pastoral office, they are regularly
teaching certain doctrines as articles of faith, to be held by all
the faithful. And "the Roman Pontiff," according to the
Vatican definition, "when he speaks ex cathedra, that is to
say, when in discharge of his office of pastor and teacher of
all Christians, in virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he
defines a doctrine touching faith or morals as to be held by the
whole Church (then), through the Divine assistance promised
him in Blessed Peter, he enjoys that infallibility wherewith the
Divine Redeemer wishes His Church to be equipped in defining
doctrine touching faith or morals; and, therefore, the defini-
tions of the aforesaid Roman pontiff are in themselves, and
not by reason of the consent of the Church, irrevocable."
Infallibility is primarily a negative prerogative; it guar-
antees that something will not happen. It does not imply that
an answer will at once be forthcoming to every difficulty, or
that an answer, if given, will always be opportune, or couched
in the best possible terms; only this is sure, that if a doctrine
is taught under definite conditions, then there will be no error
of faith or morals in the doctrine. And this, needless to say,
means on the positive side the certainty of truth. The "Divine
assistance" might take various forms; Almighty God, so far
as we can judge, can prevent any such error by the ordinary
1921.] INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE 19
exercise of His supernatural Providence, without any par-
ticular revelation or anything of that kind. Again, infallibility
as explained above is a permanent prerogative; Church and
Pope are infallible continuously, and to the end of time, and
the infallibility is operative wherever the conditions are ful-
filled. In a certain sense, indeed, we may even say that it is
always in operation.
Now, neither inspiration nor revelation can well be called
either negative or permanent. In both, God's action is pos-
itive; in revelation He is directly imparting information, while
in inspiration the human mind is acting as His instrument.
Inspiration and revelation are also alike transitory in their
mode of action, in fact, if we confine our attention to the
deposit of faith and to Biblical inspiration, they came to a
definite end with the close of the apostolic age. We possess the
results, the contents of a revelation and inspiration given long
ago, but the process is not repeated, at least, not in any shape
which demands our assent as Catholics.
The intellect of the sacred writer, then, is enlightened in
order that he may attain the truth which God intends him to
commit to writing; not necessarily enlightened by way of a
direct revelation (though what is written is revelation), but
always and necessarily in this sense, that God has appro-
priated his intellect for the purpose in hand, using it as His
instrument, guiding it by His illuminations, in order to the
right conception of what is to be written. There is a similar
"charismatic" motion of God upon the will. That, too, He
appropriates; He stirs up desires therein in a way that He
knows will be effective, so that the sacred writer, His human
instrument, will actually desire to write what God designs he
should write. In the enkindling of the will, no less than in
the enlightening of the understanding, we naturally suppose a
process closely akin to the movements of actual grace, which
Catholic theology has investigated more closely; but the es-
sential purpose of these charismatic motions is not the sancti-
fication of the individual, but the signifying of the mind of
God through the written document.
Yet the Divine appropriation of intellect and will would
not suffice without a certain "assistance," a special working
of God's supernatural Providence, supplementing that appro-
priation, and itself also directed to the production of the
20 INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE [Oct.,
written document. It may be divided into external and in-
ternal assistance. If the human instrument chosen by God to
write is to accomplish that Divine purpose, the means to do so
must be at his disposal, writing materials and the power to
use them, leisure, and other such things which we may reckon
in the main external. A special supernatural Providence at-
tends to all these things, so that the work actually eventuates.
It is also required to control to some extent the inward work-
ing of the sacred writer's mind. Thus, as Father Pesch points
out, 8 there is no reason in the nature of things why a sacred
writer should not, upon occasion, have inserted matter of his
own into a book otherwise inspired, and thus have mixed up
matter which had God as the principal author, with matter
which had not, in short, why he should not have written part
of his work without any charismatic motion of intellect and
will to influence him. We know from the tradition of the
Church that this has not happened, and it is due to this Divine
assistance that it has not happened.
It is a question now debated, however, where precisely
the charismatic motion of intellect and will ends, and where
the mere assistance begins. The discussion seems to have
begun about the time of the Council of Trent, and to have
owed its origin to the exaggerations of the Protestants. We
may distinguish roughly three schools. The first, which may
be considered obsolete, may be called that of "mechanical" in-
spiration : even the choice of words is in no way due to the co-
operation of the intellect and will of the sacred writer with the
charismatic influx, and if his style has an individuality of its
own, that is a mere coincidence, and in no way due to his own
personality. The words come to .him from the Holy Ghost
ready-made, as it were, and all he does is to put them down.
He has not contributed in any true sense to the production of
them. This is the theory stated at its baldest, yet Father
Pesch 9 quotes passages from earlier Catholic theologians
which at least come dangerously near to this. The second
hypothesis is that of "verbal" inspiration, sometimes called
"neo-verbal," in contrast to the older and exaggerated theory
of verbal inspiration just mentioned. The whole internal pro-
cess in the writer's mind, up to the very choice of words, is
subject to the charismatic action, so that the work produced is
8 De Inspiration, p. 486. Sections 278-282.
1921.] INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE 21
totus a Deo et totus ab homine, all of it from God and all of it
from man. If, for example, a rough and uncultivated writer
use a rough and uncultivated style, it is not merely because
the Holy Ghost has selected such a style for him, so as to make
it a mere coincidence, but because the writer's own natural
powers, upbringing and the like produce their natural effect,
even while under the action of the charismatic motion. The
Holy Ghost is working through him as a truly human instru-
ment, not, if such an expression may be used, with reverence,
for clearness' sake, as a kind of glorified pen. In our own
century this view has been put forward in two little books, one
by Cardinal (then Father) Billot, De Inspirations S. Scrip-
tiirae, the other by Pere Bainvel, De Scriptura Sacra. 11
The champions of "non-verbal" inspiration, sometimes
dubbed in Loisy's phrase, approved by Cardinal Billot, 12 "vivi-
sectionists," distinguish the idea, verbum mentis, modus con-
cipiendi sententia, from the word used to express it, verbum
imaginations, modus loquendi, verbum, and restrict the essen-
tial function of inspiration to the former. The essential func-
tion, be it noticed; for nobody denies that God can, if He will,
carry the inspiration further. The question is, can it rightly be
called inspiration at all, or at all events Biblical inspiration,
if it be supposed non-verbal. That Biblical inspiration is not
in all cases merely non-verbal is highly probable, from the
way in which it seems at times to be implied that the very
words have been selected by God; the question is, once more,
must we suppose that it is never merely non-verbal. Let us
also notice here that there can be little serious doubt about
the psychological possibility of this "vivisection," since expe-
rience shows that we can have an idea in our minds without a
word to represent it, or, at least, to represent it adequately.
Those, for example, to whom it falls to write or speak much,
are, at times, only too conscious of a difficulty in finding words
which will give satisfactory expression to their thought; self-
expression is an art often acquired at a great price. In the
same way, those who are speaking in a language wherein they
have only a moderate facility, may find themselves brought
to a halt by their inability to find a word for something; no
word of any language may be in their thought, but there can
be no doubt as to what the idea is that awaits expression.
10 Romss, ex typographia polyglotta S. C. de Propaganda Fide, 1903.
n Pauls: Gabriel Beauchesne. 1910. 12 De Inspiration S. Scriptures, p. 56.
22 INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE [Oct.,
The Divine action, then, that peculiar and particular char-
ismatic working upon intellect and will which constitutes the
essence of inspiration, might on this hypothesis be confined,
so far as what is necessary and essential to it is concerned,
to the formation of ideas and the desire to express them, and
it would belong to God's ordinary supernatural Providence to
see to it that they found fitting expression. He could not, of
course, in any case remain indifferent to that. This view will
be found explained and defended in Father Pesch's massive
work, and in Vigouroux's Manuel Biblique, the wide use of
which in the French seminaries has led to the sale of many
thousands of copies.
Is there, then, any peculiar advantage in the view that
inspiration need be no more than non-verbal? The matter
cannot be discussed in full here, but it may be enough to point
out what seems at once the chief advantage of this view, and
the chief guarantee that it is sound. The Biblical Commission,
under date of June 27, 1906, while defending in general the
Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, expressly answered in
the affirmative the question whether "the hypothesis of those
can be allowed, who think that he (Moses) committed the work,
itself conceived by him under the afflatus of Divine inspiration,
to another or to others to write, in such a way, however, that
they should faithfully express his meaning, write nothing con-
trary to his will, and leave out nothing; so that eventually the
work, composed in this way, and approved by Moses, the chief
and inspired author, would be published in his name." Moses
is here distinguished from the scribe or scribes who may have
written for him, not merely as the chief, but as the inspired
author (principe inspiratoque auctore), and it, therefore,
seems clear that in this hypothesis which the Biblical Com-
mission goes out of its way to permit, we have Moses on the
one hand, inspired and supplying the ideas, and the scribe or
scribes on the other, not inspired, but supplying the words.
In other words, it would be a case of non-verbal inspiration,
and not open to the objection of psychological "vivisection,"
since ideas and words would come from different persons.
Perhaps it is hardly putting it strongly enough to say, as
above, that the Biblical Commission "goes out of its way" to
permit this hypothesis; an examination of its answers seems
u Paris : Roger et Chernoviz. 1913.
1921.] INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE 23
to show that sometimes, after laying down a general principle,
it goes on to give a question and answer which is apparently
intended as a suggestion towards meeting some of the chief
and obvious difficulties, such as, in this case, would be the
alleged difference in style between the documentary sources of
the Pentateuch usually propounded by the critics. That is to
say, it appears safe to infer that the Biblical Commission
means to hold out the possibility that any differences in style
may be due to scribes or secretaries. And this inference is
confirmed by an answer given under date of June 24, 1914,
in regard to the Epistle to the Hebrews. The question is:
"Whether Paul, the Apostle, is to be considered in such a way
the author of this epistle, that it must necessarily be affirmed
that he not only conceived and gave forth the whole of it
under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, but that he also gave
it that form in which it is extant." And the answer is in the
negative, "saving the further judgment of the Church." Here
again the difficulty raised is largely that of style, and the
solution is suggested that the style, as such, need not be due
to the author. If, then, as seems tolerably clear, it is a legiti-
mate interpretation of the action of the Biblical Commission
to say that twice over it meets an important objection 6y sug-
gesting a solution which involves merely non-verbal inspira-
tion, it can no longer be urged, in the face of such authority,
that such a doctrine whittles down inspiration unduly or
abandons anything that is essential.
From inspiration, we pass naturally to inerrancy. We
cannot begin better than by resorting once more to the Provi-
dentissimus Dens, in a passage near the close: "So far is it
from being possible, that any error should underlie Divine
inspiration, that this latter by its very nature (per se ipsa) not
merely excludes all error, but as necessarily excludes and
rejects it, as it is necessary that God, the supreme Truth,
should be the author of absolutely no error." This entire
freedom from error, therefore, is to be held as a necessary
consequence of the Divine authorship; and yet not simply as
that, but as a truth revealed in itself, and evidently contained
alike in Scripture and Tradition. The constant teaching of
the Fathers and of the Church in all ages puts it beyond doubt
that we must treat this truth as an article of faith.
And now we may hark back to infallibility, in order to
24 INSPIRATION OF HOLY SCRIPTURE [Oct.,
compare with it this same inerrancy. Infallibility, then, as has
been explained, is primarily a negative prerogative; Almighty
God has so arranged that in the teaching of Pope and Church,
mistake, under certain conditions, shall be impossible. We can
surmise that, speaking relatively and in a human way, very
little Divine action is needed to secure such a result, though
we cannot be sure that God always confines Himself to that
little to the bare essential. Biblical inerrancy for it is more
practical to confine ourselves to the case of Holy Writ is also
something negative, a freedom from error; but the Divine
action which it accompanies is something primarily positive.
It cannot be considered as a mere exercise of supernatural
Providence, such as might suffice for infallibility, but God Him-
self is the author of what is being written, and the human
writer is but His instrument, and it is precisely because God
is author that there can be no error, and is none. In this
sense, while inerrancy, in the strictest sense, remains some-
thing negative, it is inextricably bound up with a very positive
Divine action, the Divine writing.
Again, infallibility, as has also been explained, is some-
thing permanent, continuing in Pope and Church till the end
of time; but Biblical inerrancy, like the inspiration which
it accompanied, is, in a certain sense, over and done with.
Biblical inspiration, that is to say, came to an end with the
close of the apostolic age; as we have se"en, it could not outlast
the giving of the deposit of faith, since it is essential to a book
of Holy Scripture that the fact of its inspiration should form
part of that deposit. And Biblical inerrancy, in the strictest
sense, means this, that God, writing those books as He was
through His human instrument, necessarily wrote them free
from error. The results of that inspiration and that inerrancy
will always remain in the Church; there will always be with
her faithful copies of those books inspired long ago, and, in so
far as they are faithful copies, they will always enjoy that
freedom from error of which Biblical inerrancy is the
guarantee.
SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING."
BY HENRY A. LAPPIN, LITT.D.
R. SHANE LESLIE'S remarkable book 1 is the
most important contribution to the history of the
Church in England since the late Wilfrid Ward's
Newman appeared in 1912. And, indeed, this
brilliant and confident narrative, this portrait so
full, vivid, and complete, goes far to convince us that the new
editor of the Dublin Review possesses no small share of his
distinguished predecessor's talent in the art of ecclesiastical
biography. It is a pleasure to record our sense of the devotion
and skill which characterize every chapter of Mr. Leslie's
work. The author modestly puts it forth as "a supplement
rather than a supplanter to PurcelFs grandiose Life of Cardinal
Manning." Because of the letters and documents therein sup-
plied, Purcell's amazing volumes will always be indispensable
to the student of the Catholic Revival in England, but hence-
forth readers who seek a truthful and unbiased account of the
great Cardinal's life and labors will be well advised to begin
with the later biography, using Purcell's Life for the illus-
trative material so copiously provided, and scrutinizing with
jealous eye the sinister conclusions Purcell so frequently drew
therefrom.
For Purcell's Life of Cardinal Manning is one of the cur-
iosities of biographical literature. Out of a generosity nothing
less than heroic, the Cardinal gave Purcell access to a selection
from his private papers and diaries, so that by writing the
official Life Purcell might recoup himself for severe financial
losses sustained many years before when he was editor of a
Catholic newspaper, the Westminster Gazette. Purcell made
the basest of returns by publishing a misleading and defam-
atory biography which presented a figure utterly unrecogniz-
able by Manning's most intimate friends : the figure of an un-
scrupulous careerist, devoid of loyalty to his friends and
knowing no generosity towards his foes. A year later, Father
H. I. D. Ryder, Newman's Oratorian friend and colleague,
1 Henry Edward Manning. His Life and Labors. By Shane Leslie. New York:
P. J. Kenedy & Sons.
26 SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" [Oct.,
wrote a masterly vindication of Manning from the aspersions
of Purcell; a vindication which, however, remained unpub-
lished until 1911. 2 M. Thureau-Dangin in one of the footnotes
to the second volume of his classical chronicle of the English
Catholic Revival, reproached Purcell for having judged Man-
ning "a sa propre mesure, c'est-a-dire a une mesure etroite et
mesquine," and recommended a biography by M. PAbbe Hem-
mer based upon Purcell, "mats en Vallegeant et en le corri-
geant." There is also an interesting refutation of Purcell by
the Protestant, Francis De Pressense, reprinted from the pages
of the Revue des Deux Mondesi
But none of these rehabilitations of Manning can have
reached more than an inconsiderable number of the readers
of Purcell, and so far as the general public is concerned, the
mischief wrought by Purcell has remained unrepaired until
now. Indeed, a new lease of life was recently given to the
popular caricature of Manning, in the lengthy account which
formed more than one-third of the contents of the clever Mr.
Strachey's Eminent Victorians (1918). Mr. Strachey out-Pur-
cells Purcell, and his study of Manning is the most Voltairean
composition in the whole range of modern English letters.
Clearly, there was need of a candid, detailed and thoroughly-
documented biography which should be written without parti-
pris or malice prepense. To supply this need there was no
living man better qualified than Mr. Shane Leslie. In the
course of his exacting task he has had access to the eccle-
siastical archives of England, Ireland and America, and
has studied all the documentary "evidence in the case." No
praise can be too high for the sympathetic understanding he
reveals of political and ecclesiastical issues, his sobriety of
temper and judgment, and the grace, distinction and impres-
siveness of his writing.
* * * *
One of the two most important events in the history of
post-Tridentine English Catholicism occurred on the ninth of
October, 1845, when on the morrow of a night wild with equi-
noctial wind and pouring rain, John Henry Newman, the
flower of Anglican devotion and learning, made his profession
of Faith into the toil-worn hands of Father Dominic the
2 Essays. By H. I. D. Ryder. New York: Longmans, Green & Co. 1911.
* Life of Cardinal Manning. By Francis De Pressens6. Translated by Francis T.
Furey, M.A. Philadelphia: John Joseph McVey. 1897.
1921.] SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" 27
Italian Passionist who as a boy had sought his wandered sheep
on the lonely slopes of the Apennines and now, at length,
drawn thither by a mysterious attraction that had endured
throughout thirty years, had come over into England to bring
back her strayed souls to the Fold of Faith. The other took
place on Passion Sunday, 1851, when Henry Edward Manning,
ex-Archdeacon of Chichester, sacrificing his ambitions and
friendships and the certainty of ultimate promotion to the
most exalted dignities the Church of England had in gift,
knelt beside his friend, James Hope-Scott, at the feet of an
obscure Jesuit, and entered the Catholic Church. To his com-
panion in conversion Manning declared: "I feel as if I had no
desire unfulfilled but to persevere in what God has given me
for His Son's sake." "After this," he wrote to Robert Wilber-
force, "I shall sink to the bottom and disappear."
In 1850, the then reigning Pontiff restored the Catholic
hierarchy in England. Nicholas Cardinal Wiseman, the first
Archbishop of Westminster, died fifteen years later; Rome ap-
pointed the ex-Archdeacon of Chichester to be his successor,
and the great reign began. Newman, meanwhile, was living in
comparative obscurity at the Birmingham Oratory. The for-
tunes of the Church in England were to be largely intertwined
with the lives of these two great converts. Wilfred Ward has
most illuminatingly noted 4 the contrasts between Manning and
Newman. To him "they, to some extent, embody two distinct
types of mental character which we now see widely repre-
sented in the Catholic Church. Each man was fascinated by
a type in conformity with his own earlier life. The Rector of
Lavington and the Archdeacon was drawn to the Church of
St. Francis of Sales and St. Charles Borromeo of the pastor
of souls, and the guide of consciences, and of the saintly of-
ficial ruler. The study of such historical characters brought
out in Manning a special affinity for the post-Reformation
Church, of which they were representatives; that is for the
Church in action, and in controversy with those who had re-
belled from her authority.
"Consideration of deeper intellectual problems, wide and
penetrating thought among churchmen, was not the charac-
teristic of the period immediately succeeding the Reformation.
True, these qualities are to be found a little later in the writ-
*Ten Personal Studies, pp. 292, 293. New York: Longmans, Green & Co. 1908.
28 SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" [Oct.,
ings of such divines as Suarez and de Lugo; while the works
of Petavius will ever stand high as specimens of frank treat-
ment of the history of theology. But the success of the Coun-
ter-Reformation was due to other gifts in which the Jesuits
specially excelled ascetic life, ready and persuasive speech,
controversial rather than philosophical ability. The whole
seminary system then introduced was on these lines. The old
mediaeval disputations once symbols of almost unbridled free-
dom of speech and speculation, were reorganized and mar-
shaled to defend fixed propositions affirmed by the Catholic,
denied by the Protestant. Authority and devotion enjoyed
paramount influence; intellect was but the servant whose busi-
ness it was to defend their claims. Manning with his high
ascetic ideals, his enthusiasm for the priestly caste, his ready
but not deep intellect, found in this atmosphere an entirely
congenial home.
"To Newman it was, before all things, the Church of the
Fathers which typified the genius of the Catholic Church.
The days when Christian thought was building up theology as
the expression of Christ's faith best suited to educated men
in view of the controversies of the hour, persuasive to the in-
tellect of Alexandria or Athens, were the days congenial to
the man who had lived his life among thinkers and scholars
in Oxford. On the patristic era of Church history, he tells us,
his imagination loved to dwell as 'in a paradise of delight.'
Theology occupied primarily, not in refuting 'heretical rebels,'
but in intellectually interpreting and applying the genius of
Christianity, satisfying the deeper thought of its own cham-
pions rather than merely scoring immediate successes in argu-
ment, was his ideal."
It was almost inevitable that two such widely different
temperaments should, at times, find themselves in opposition.
Much has been written about the differences and antagonisms
that arose between them. Commentators like Purcell and
Strachey have (lacrymis coactis!) mourned over Newman in
the role of the dove in the eagle's nest. Not the least valuable
part of Mr. Leslie's book is his sixteenth chapter : "The Case
of Dr. Newman." "Their differences," remarks Mr. Leslie with
perfect truth, "were exaggerated by a horde of Protestant
journalists, Catholic busybodies, and excitable converts."
From a letter written by Manning to Lady Herbert (January
1921.] SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" 29
15, 1866), he quotes: "It is strange what efforts they make to
believe that we are divided above all, Dr. Newman and my-
self. I should be ready to let him write down my faith and I
would sign it without reading it. So would he." 5 Surely, this
is a sufficient answer to the extraordinary statement in Mr.
J. E. C. Bodley's reprinted lecture 6 that "Manning seriously
believed that Newman was not an orthodox Catholic."
In meditating upon the relations between Newman and
Manning, it is unwise to leave out of account the extraor-
dinary, even feminine, sensitiveness of Newman, and one must
always keep in mind the fact that Manning was the chief of-
ficial custodian of the Catholic and Roman Faith in England,
and that it was Newman's delight to exercise, throughout prac-
tically the whole course of his Catholic life, the self-imposed
function of an apologetical pioneer. It was not unnatural that
the Archbishop of Westminster, the man at the helm, so to
speak, should have his reserves and dubieties concerning one
whose printed utterances, even his hero-worshipping biog-
rapher, Wilfrid Ward, admits, perplexed at times "the simple
and literal reader," who had, in a moment of excitement,
described the Infallibilist party at the Council as "an insolent
and aggressive faction," and had then completely forgotten
having done so! Nor did Newman ever fully realize to what
extent Manning had refrained in his regard, and how fre-
quently he had, unknown to Newman, interfered in the latter's
favor. He had held back W. G. Ward's hand from smiting
Newman, although the article Ward had prepared for the
Dublin Review "had been examined and was considered to be
calm and moderate and to contain nothing which ought not to
be published ... I am most anxious [wrote Manning] that
Dr. Newman should be spared all pain." Manning even went
the heroic length of suppressing his book on the Blessed Virgin
"for fear of collision with Newman."
There is the pathos of frustrated magnanimity in these
sentences from a letter of Manning's to Gladstone: "I have in
many ways through all these years endeavored to see him
where he ought to be. My constant effort, unknown to him,
has been to draw him from the obscurity to which influences
not good and an over sensitive mind, not unnaturally pained
5 Italics are the reviewer's.
6 Cardinal Manning and Other Essays, p. 15. By J. E. C. Bodley. New York:
Longmans, Green & Co. 1912.
30 SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" [Oct.,
by events I know, have induced him to withdraw." And when
a pamphlet by the illustrious Oratorian in reply to Gladstone's
attack on "Vaticanism" failed to meet with the approval of
Rome, Manning, feeling that there was danger of his being
unjustly censured, assured Cardinal Franchi that "the heart
of Father Newman is as straight and Catholic as ever it was."
Later on, Manning impressed upon the authorities his convic-
tion that "in the rise and revival of Catholic Faith in England
there is no one whose name will stand out in history with so
great a prominence." And when, three weeks after this, the
Holy Father, besought by the Duke of Norfolk to raise New-
man to the purple, asked for Manning's endorsement, it was
unhesitatingly forthcoming.
Long before this, the Archbishop had written to the
Duchess of Buccleuch (in 1869) : "As to Dr. Newman, I believe
if you knew the truth you would exactly reverse your present
thoughts. I am supposed to have crossed him. I have done
all in my power for nine or ten years to set right many things
caused by himself or his friends which have stood in his way.
Finally, I have his letter binding me to desist from the en-
deavor I was making that he should be consecrated a Bishop.
All this cannot be stated. Meanwhile, the direct reverse of the
truth is put about." But, before the end, Newman was made a
Prince of the Church. With the evening came the light. There
is sadness in Mr. Leslie's reflection that "Newman passed to
his grave without suspecting the cause that turned the Papal
sunlight on his path." Their differences, as Father Ryder
acutely noted, in the essay already referred to, were psycho-
logical, not theological. "That two wills so strong, two minds
so choice, and yet so diverse, should have united on the one
Creed," Mr. Leslie finely says, "remains a matter of pride
rather than distress to Catholics." Mr. Leslie's sixteenth chap-
ter justifies the existence of his book, if justification were
needed.
In his treatment of the Errington case, Mr. Leslie, with the
aid of the now newly-added Talbot letters, finally and tri-
umphantly vindicates Manning from the charge (which
emerges by implication from PurcelPs pages) that he sought
to mount the steps of the Archiepiscopal throne of Westminster
by blackening the names of all the other suggested candidates.
This "The Wars of Westminster" is the most exciting chap-
1921.] SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" 31
ter in the new biography. (Mr. Leslie has a genius for chapter-
headings!) Hardly less thrilling is the account of the struggle
between Gladstone's Government and the Irish Episcopate
over the appointment to the vacant Dublin Archbishopric in
1885, Dr. (afterwards Cardinal) Moran, being the Government
candidate, and Dr. Walsh of Maynooth (for whose recent
loss the Irish Church mourns), the choice of the Bishops.
During these anxious months, Manning kept in close touch
with the Vatican, as well as with the Government and the
Irish Bishops; and was trusted by them all. From the "Persico
and Parnell" chapter, Manning emerges as a wise and faithful
friend to Ireland. Archbishop Walsh's continuously increas-
ing esteem for his brother of Westminster, is sufficient attesta-
tion to Manning's political integrity. Had Manning chosen the
State instead of the Church, no dignity, short of the highest,
would have fallen to his lot.
But it is not the political chapters of this biography that
will make the deepest impression upon readers. The most
moving and edifying pages are those which reproduce a por-
tion of the diary of the newly-appointed Archbishop while on
retreat just before his consecration. It was a saintly priest of
the Congregation of the Passion who received Newman into
the Church; and when the other protagonist of the Catholic
revival set about to make his soul in preparation for the Archi-
episcopal office, it was to the monastery of the Sons of St. Paul
of the Cross in London that he repaired. There, for eight
days, the Archbishop-elect searched his heart and strength-
ened his soul against the days of care and trial that were
awaiting it.
The selections from his written self-communings during
this time is the best part of Mr. Leslie's gift to us. How strange
these words will sound to those who have accustomed them-
selves to think of Manning as the suave, crafty diplomat-
churchman ever lusting after influence and power and popu-
larity : "I don't think any pleasure or society or worldly honor
have hold over me. I have been so long unpopular and dis-
liked and misrepresented that I hope I have expiated the flood
of popularity I had before I was in the truth and healed of the
temptation for the future. But I must watch over this, and if
at any time I cease to find pleasure in the lowest and hardest
works of the Pastoral care, or if I ever soften down the truth
32 SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" [Oct.,
or am silent when I ought to speak out, I shall have a sign that
the world is still in me." This is the authentic voice of saint-
hood.
On the seventh day of his Retreat, June 4, 1865, Manning
looked down over London from the heights of the monastery
garden, even as his Master once if we may reverently draw
the comparison looked out over Jerusalem, and the heart of
the great Democrat-Pastor that was Manning's most essential
self, throbs through these solemn and beautiful sentences:
When I look down upon London from this garden and
know that there are before me nearly three millions of men
of whom only two hundred thousand are nominally in the
Faith; that hundreds of thousands are living and dying
without baptism, in all the sins of the flesh and spirit, in
all that Nineveh and the Cities of the Plain and Imperial
Rome ever committed; that it is the capital of the most
anti-Christian power of the nominally Christian world and
the head of its anti-Christian spirit; that in a moment it
might be set afire with fury against the Catholic and Roman
Church, I confess I feel that we are walking on the waters
and that nothing but the word and the presence of Jesus
makes this great calm . . . They will be my chalice more
than ever. To labor and suffer for souls who will not be
redeemed. To go down into fire and into the water to save
souls and to be wounded by them all this I look for. And
I look to be chiefly wounded, as Jesus was, by my own
brethren. All these osannas are but for a time, a sort of
holiday of the kind hearts here and there. The great deep
remains ready to lift itself up when the time comes. As
soon as I begin, the wind will shift and blow shrill and
sharp another way ... I propose to keep always before
me St. Charles' devotion to the Burial of Jesus. I suppose
he loved it because it was the most perfect humiliation of
God Incarnate, to be taken down from the Cross, wound
in linen, and hid out of sight in the earth which He had
made. I cannot escape many things which will demand of
me a heroic patience and self-control. In this end I will try
to remember the Winding-Sheet and the Sepulchre.
And as he left his Retreat his gaze fell upon St. Paul's and
Westminster bathed golden in the rays of the declining sun
". . . all this seemed to cry to me : 'Come over and help us.' "
1921.] SHANE LESLIE'S "MANNING" 33
He went over and helped them. There was not a major
work of mercy or philanthropy in his diocese in which he did
not nobly share. He was the Cardinal-Archbishop of the chil-
dren no less than of the workingmen, halting the building of
his great cathedral so that he might direct all his efforts to
their education. (He gave the poor children of the neighbor-
hood the right to play in the enclosure intended for the cathe-
dral site.) He built and arranged for the support of orphan
asylums, industrial and reformatory schools, and splendidly-
equipped parochial schools. He declared that "a child's tear
not wiped away cries to God as loudly as blood spilt upon the
ground."
He aided and abetted that modern journalist knight-
errant, W. T. Stead, in his campaign against criminal sensual-
ity. The Irish members, headed by poor Parnell, went in a
body to congratulate him on his silver jubilee. He had a
handclasp for Henry George, Ben Tillett and John Burns.
He settled the London Dock Strike. He was an honored mem-
ber of that mausoleum of English exclusiveness, the Athe-
nsean Club. Bryce, Gladstone, Ruskin were proud to be
known as his friends. (And Ruskin, indeed, described the
Cardinal's literary style as "the purest and simplest speech of
modern times.")
And when they buried him at Brompton Oratory on
January 21, 1890, "behind the Bishops of the Church and the
Peers of the Realm marched solid lines of the laboring men."
The poor and those that labor were the Cardinal-Archbishop's
chief mourners.
"Pastoris Boni opus Co us um mat um Deo obtulit."
VOL. CXIV. 3
BALLADE.
BY ELEANORE MYERS JEWETT.
"She appeared to me clothed in most noble hue, a subdued and
modest crimson, cinctured and adorned after the fashion that was
becoming to her most tender age." Vita Nuova.
WHEN Dante lived in Italy,
A dreamy-eyed young Florentine,
How oft the huddled homes would be
Blood stained by Guelf and Ghibelline!
What cruelties there must have been!
What wrongs closed thick about his head !
But Dante's eyes could only see
A little maiden clothed in red.
When Dante wandered, musingly,
The gossipy, grim streets between,
Folk drew their children to the knee
And whispered, "There goes one who's seen
Both heaven and hell and walks serene
Among the living and the dead!"
But, vision-wrapt, his heart would see
A little maiden clothed in red.
And when in lonely exile, he
Brooded, o'er some lone foreign scene,
On shattered hopes and enmity,
His sad eyes cold and clear and keen
Over his austere face and mien,
Often a softer light would spread
As Dante watched in memory
A little maiden clothed in red.
ENVOI.
Beatrice, down many a century
This radiant dream of you has sped
Heaven holds no fairer rose than she,
The little maiden clothed in red!
SOCIAL ORGANIZATION OF ITALIAN CATHOLICS.
BY J. P. CONRY.
ROBABLY it is not an exaggeration to say that in
no European country is the social organization of
Catholics going forward in a more thorough or
more comprehensive fashion than it is in Italy.
If the Catholics of Italy in past decades lost any
time in gathering their forces and consolidating their ranks
for the regeneration of their country, they are certainly now
making up for it. Their methods are interesting and business-
like. Let us take a survey of them. The degree of success
already obtained among the 40,000,000 people that cover this
land of fruit and flowers merits inspection.
Catholic activity in Italy is carried on in three distinct
fields. First, the Catholic Movement strictly so-called; second,
the Economic Social Action; and third, the Political Action.
We shall enter each in turn.
The Movimento Cattolico or Catholic Movement strictly
so-called is made up of the following organizations :
(1) The Popular Union among the Catholics of Italy;
(2) The Society of the Catholic Youth of Italy;
(3) The Union of the Catholic Women of Italy.
The first of these was instituted by Pius X. in June, 1905,
by the Encyclical, // Fermo Proposito, in which the Pontiff,
ever alive to the needs of the hour, traced out the nature, the
necessity and the ends of Catholic organization in this penin-
sula. The result of the Encyclical was the foundation of the
Catholic Union, the mother organization of the Catholic Move-
ment in Italy, from which all other associations depend. It
coordinates all other Catholic associations and prescribes their
several programmes "for combating by every just and legit-
imate means the godless and the anti-Christian civilization of
our day, for repairing in every way the grave evils that come
from this civilization, and for bringing back Jesus Christ into
the family, into the school, into society." 1
1 Pius X., II Fermo Proposito,
36 ORGANIZATION OF ITALIAN CATHOLICS [Oct.,
The Popular Union embraces not only diverse Catholic
associations, but also individuals who belong to no associa-
tion. In each parish the members constitute the parochial
society, which is dependent upon the parish priest. All the
parochial societies depend upon the diocesan committee.
This committee depends upon the Bishop of the diocese. And
all these diocesan committees in Italy, to the number of two
hundred and fifty (there are about two hundred and fifty
dioceses in Italy), depend upon the Central Directive Corn-
mi I Lee of the Catholic Movement, which has its seat in Rome
and whose President is nominated by the Holy See. This
Central Directive Council in Rome functions by means of three
secretariates: The Secretariate for Propaganda; The Secre-
tariate of Culture (or formation of the social conscience) ;
The Secretariate for Liberty of Schools.
The duty of The Secretariate of Propaganda is to extend
the membership of the Popular Union and keep in touch with
the Diocesan Committees and the parochial groups. On it
devolves the task of developing the power and influence of
the Union throughout the country. Though a few lines suffice
to describe its onera, its responsibility is far-reaching.
The purpose of The Secretariate of Culture is to spread
broadcast the knowledge necessary for the people to compre-
hend and to solve, according to the principles of Catholic doc-
trine, all new social problems. It has instituted at the head
office, Rome, a Bureau of Information which collects and fur-
nishes to the members of the Unione Popolare scientific direc-
tions on Catholic teaching, indications as to books worthy of
being consulted on the social problems that come up for solu-
tion and, moreover, it keeps them an courant with conferences,
lectures, etc., on social questions of the day. It publishes and
circulates books, pamphlets and leaflets on such questions.
Every year it holds a "Social Week," to which are invited,
also, members of analogous foreign societies. Here live ques-
tions that have presented themselves during the past year,
are discussed with a view to giving sure directions to members
who may feel doubtful as to the proper line of action to
pursue.
By the organization, in different parts of Italy, of courses
of social study, it prepares young captains of the Catholic
Movement who will carry the organization far afield. About
1921.] ORGANIZATION OF ITALIAN CATHOLICS 37
one hundred intelligent Catholic youths are gathered in one
of Italy's beauty spots where lectures are given after the
manner of the Summer School in America. For example, last
year the celebrated monastery of Monte Cassino, the shores of
Lago Maggiore in North Italy, the island of Sardegna, and the
beautiful little city of Siena, with its wealth of religious asso-
ciations, were chosen as the scenes of these Summer Schools,
and the disciples (young priests and young laymen ready to
devote part of their spare time to the work of propaganda),
who followed the fifteen day course, aggregated five hundred.
These courses are intended to perfect in a technical way the
minds of the students and presuppose a certain amount of
culture.
The Secretariate for Liberty of Schools directs the struggle
for the liberty of the schools, that liberty which, little by little,
the Freemasons and the "Liberals" (Bless the mark!) of the
peninsula have so curtailed these past thirty years. To
achieve its end, the Secretariate has adopted the following
means : It has awakened the conscience of the members of the
Popular Union to the importance and the necessity of having
full freedom of action, within reasonable bounds, in the
schools. It has organized leagues of Catholic fathers to defend
the Catholic schools in every municipality in Italy. It pro-
motes meetings to bring the school question strongly before
the public eye.
In this struggle for the schools the Catholics demand:
First, liberty in all grades of education, so that each person
be free to open a school without any control on the part of the
State except inasmuch as hygiene, morality and public order
are concerned; second, that every school be authorized to
confer academic degrees; third, that to the State be reserved
only the conferring of professional degrees by virtue of which
the holder may exercise his profession as lawyer, physician,
etc. In order that citizens may have a guarantee of the com-
petency of students of Catholic schools for the exercise of the
liberal professions, the Catholics demand that a State examina-
tion be held indifferently for all students, whether coming
from State or private schools. For obvious reasons, they also
demand that the examining board be composed of teachers
belonging to both State and Catholic schools. I may add here,
by way of parenthesis, among scholastic associations worthy
38 ORGANIZATION OF ITALIAN CATHOLICS [Oct.,
of special mention are : L'Associazione Nazionale Nicolo Tom-
maseo and La Federazione degli Instituti Scolastici Privati.
Both defend the moral and economic rights of their members
and uphold education on Christian principles.
La Societd Delia Gioventii Cattolica Italiana, or Society
of the Catholic Youth of Italy, is an organization for the moral
and intellectual formation of Italian youths according to
Christian principles, to habituate them to profess openly the
Catholic religion, and to educate them for the defence of the
rights of the Church and of religious liberty. It is composed
of clubs and associations scattered over all the dioceses of the
country, and it is directed by diocesan councils, all under a
President-General in Rome. At this moment the clubs of
Italy's Catholic boys number 2,300 with a membership of
70,000.
Among the societies established among the young men of
Italy, the following are worthy of note : "La Federazione Uni-
versitaria Cattolica Italiana" founded in 1896, the end of
which is to bind together Catholic students in defence of their
religious and moral interests, and to aid the apostolate which
these fearless young fellows uphold in the university ambients.
When we reflect that the university in Italy is usually
ground hostile to Catholic ideas, we realize how much the
Catholic student needs such a federation. "La Federazione
degli Associazioni Sportivi Cattolici Italiani," has for its aim
the physical education of the youth, side by side with his
religious life. "L'Associazione Scoutistica Cattolica" develops
the strength of the Catholic Boy Scouts, which corps is kept
completely separated from what, for want of a better name,
we must call "lay" scouts. Count de Carpegna, one of the
Noble Guards of the Holy Father, is President of this body.
"L'Unione Femminile Cattolica Italiana" is the third great
organization. It has for its purpose the education of the Cath-
olic woman of Italy for the full observance of her duties, re-
ligious, civil and social, and the unification of all Italy's Cath-
olic women in confessing and defending Catholic principles.
This great body is divided into two sections: "The Union of
the Catholic Women of Italy," which comprises both married
and unmarried over thirty-five years of age. Its members
total 150,000. Besides its general purpose it endeavors to aid
its members from an educational and social standpoint; to
1921.] ORGANIZATION OF ITALIAN CATHOLICS 39
keep in touch with school mistresses in order to watch over
Christ's interests in the schools; to promote the Christian
spirit in the family and in social life, and to cultivate love and
obedience in the home. "The Association of Catholic Young
Women of Italy" comprises unmarried women of every con-
dition of life up to the age of thirty-five years. This has for
its aim the religious, intellectual and moral formation of its
members; preparation for their maternal mission; the open
profession and defence of the Catholic Faith; obedience to the
Holy See and filial affection for the Vicar of Christ.
The "Azione Economico-Sociale" comprises the "Movi-
mento Sindacale Cristiano" and the "Movimento Cooperative
Cristiano." The first of these movements is promoted by the
Italian Confederation of Workingmen, which includes all
organizations of factory hands, farmers, men given to
commerce, and guilds of masons, bakers, railway employees,
cloth makers, post office officials and others. Every category
has its seat in every municipal town. They now comprise
over thirty national federations, and are continually on the
increase. They form the great Italian Confederation of Work-
ingmen with a membership of 1,500,000. This is the great-
est organization of its kind in Europe, excepting that in
Germany.
The "Movimento Cooperativo Cristiano" is the largest
and most important of the Italian Catholic organizations. In
numbers and importance it far outstrips a similar movement
run by the Socialists, and in no other country is it conducted
on so vast a scale. It began in 1874 under Pope Pius IX. and
is promoted by the "Federazione Cooperativa Italiana," which
comprises the following organizations :
(1) The National Confederation of Cooperative Stores in
which grain, wines, etc., are sold. This has 3,500 affiliated
stores. Its head office is at Genoa.
(2) Italian Federation of Loan Banks founded to save
farmers, traders, etc., from the clutches of usurers. It has
3,000 branch offices. Its head office is in Rome.
(3) National Federation of Farmers' Societies with 800
affiliated branches. It sells seeds, manures, farm implements
to farmers. Its head office is in Milan.
(4) Italian Federation of Banks having 51 branch offices.
Its head office is the Banco di Roma in Rome. On June 30,
40 ORGANIZATION OF ITALIAN CATHOLICS [Oct.,
1920, its capital and deposits were 1,006,000,000 lire. They are
now much more.
(5) "Unione Nazionale delle Cooperative di Produzione
e Lavoro," which is of recent date. Its end is to promote the
welfare of mills, building societies, etc.
(6) The Italian Fishermen's Cooperative Society. This
has organized thousands and thousands of the fisher folk on
the shores of the Mediterranean and the Adriatic to save them
(and the public as well) from the maws of the middleman.
The Society receives the takes fresh from the fishing boats,
sells them and divides the profits among the fishermen. It is
a joy to the hardy sons of the sea, while it is anathema to the
biped Italian sharks who heretofore exploited the toils and
dangers of the fisherman, as well as the public at large.
(7) "// Banco di Lavoro." This gives financial accom-
modation to any of the industrial organizations above men-
tioned.
(8) Finally comes the "Consorzio Nazionale di Appro-
vigionamento delle Cooperative di Consume." This buys
goods wholesale and sells to its retail societies.
These organizations constitute about 7,000 societies scat-
tered all over Italy.
In latter years the political situation of Catholics in Italy
has undergone a great change. Up to 1904 the 'Won Expedit"
of Pius IX. prohibited Italian Catholics from presenting them-
selves as candidates for the Chamber of Deputies, nor might
Catholics cast their votes at the political elections. But Pius
X. made exceptions in individual cases so that, in time, there
came to be about thirty Catholic deputies in the Chamber.
These, however, constituted neither a party nor a group.
A big change came in 1919 when, with the tacit consent
of the Holy See, the Popular Party of Italy (which is not Cath-
olic in the professional sense of the word, since non-Catholics
may enter its ranks if they follow a programme inspired by
Christian principles) was elected one hundred strong. This
party took as its programme the defence of religion, justice
and the Christian spirit, and though it counted only one hun-
dred out of five hundred and eight deputies in Monte Citorio,
it soon became what the German Centre Party was in the
Reichstag in Bismarck's day, or the Irish Parliamentary Party
in the English House of Commons in ParnelFs day, the arbiter
1921.
ON HER EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY
41
of the situation. As the Socialist Party refused to collaborate
with any party, no side could govern without the Popular
Party.
At the elections held in May, 1921, the Popular Party
returned from the urns numbering one hundred and nine
deputies, strong, picked men. Not only to the example of
France, but to the strength of the Popular Party is due the
attitude which the Italian press, as a whole, has adopted in
favor of a permanent reconciliation between the Holy See and
Italy.
TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY.
BY J. CORSON MILLER.
I MAKE a birthday-song for you, lady,
A shy, little twist of rhyme;
Woven of silver leaves of friendship,
And mellowed by suns of time.
Take it 'tis tied with the ribbon of faith,
And sprayed with the honey of youth,
And every blossom and baby-bud
Was plucked in the garden of truth.
May life for you be a house of laughter,
Where the lamp of love hangs high;
Hidden away from the winds of sorrow,
And clean as a star-brimmed sky.
I give you the jewels of maidenly virtue,
To wear with an innocent art;
May Conscience be ever the key that shall open
And close the hushed gates of your heart.
For the days crowd down, like an army with banners,
To plunder, to kill, and to maim;
May you keep your soul as a lily-white fortress,
Against the shrewd enemy, Shame.
Then Heaven will smile, and Beauty shall bless you,
And Joy shall remain with you long;
And you shall be wrapped in the mantle of angels,
When Death comes by like a song.
WHY GOD BECAME MAN.*
BY LESLIE J. WALKER, S.J., M.A.
IV.
TRUTH INCARNATE.
HERE was an immense amount of truth in the
world in the pre-Christian period of man's his-
tory. Man, as he developed, had drawn many
valid inferences from the facts with which he
was confronted, had projected many ideas into
the objective world, the reality of which experience bore out.
He knew that he belonged to a sinful race, and that all were
involved in this sin, even the dead, who in another world still
lived, and were still interested in and affected by his doings.
He felt acutely the need of redemption, and sought to attain it
by ritual observance and sacrifice, which were essentially
social actions. But he was aware, too, and was becoming in-
creasingly aware, that religion is also a personal affair, a
matter of conscience, involving a right relation between him-
self and God, between society and God, and between himself
and society. Ever prone to anthropomorphize, ever credulous
of myths, ever ready to worship the manifestation in place of
what it presupposed, man was at any rate firmly convinced
that God was a real Being Who could become known to man-
kind, and that only thus could mankind rightly solve its
problems.
The philosopher, also, was intensely desirous of knowing
God, and had made much advance in purifying the concept
of God and in raising man's ideal of morality. He was, in
general, agreed that there could only be one God; that God
was also Providence; that evil was opposed to Providence; and
could be overcome, if man only knew God and would act in
accordance with this knowledge. But his ideas were un-
systematized, and, hence, tended to exaggeration, to conflict,
*A series of articles dealing with fundamental Christian dogmas from the point
of view of their value, intellectual and practical, psychological and social, by the
author of Theories of Knowledge and of The Problem of Reunion, etc.; lecturer in
Theology in the University of Oxford.
1921.]
WHY GOD BECAME MAN
43
and so ultimately to disappearance. Was God immanent or
transcendent? Was His nature in any way diverse? Was evil
an independent reality? Was God identical with the universe,
or identical with man's soul, or was He merely the animating
principle of the universe, or did He live in a world apart, wrapt
up in self-contemplation?
Each thesis was maintained, yet without sure foundation.
Hence criticism, and the tendency of each to go over into its
opposite. If God were wholly one, whence plurality? If
many, whence security ? If identical with the universe or with
fate, what need is there of God at all? If God be unknowable,
He is useless; if known wrongly, evil results and immorality
gains a sanction; if He can be conceived rightly only in the
abstract, practical religion disappears. Knowledge is of im-
mense value, if only we can be sure that we know. But the
philosophers were not sure. The cornerstone was missing.
All was uncertain, wavering, ever giving place to decadence or
issuing in despair. The truths were there, almost all the truths
that Christianity herself preaches. What was wanting was
something that should put each in its true perspective, and at
the same time give life to it, bringing it back from the realm of
the abstract into the sphere of concrete experience.
Could God do this? Could God solve the problems which
puzzled the philosophers? There was no one in those days,
either philosopher or plain man, who would have denied God's
power in this matter. God might inspire a prophet, had done
so many times; though only with partial knowledge, and
though the prophets were by no means agreed. He might also
Himself become incarnate; was supposed to have done so quite
frequently; though in a crude kind of way, and without any
striking benefit resulting in the matter either of morality or
truth. God's problem, if I may so put it, was not how to
manifest Himself, but how to convince man that this mani-
festation of Himself was genuine; not how to save the world,
but how to convince the world that in reality its salvation had
been wrought. If He came by way of inspiration, He must
secure that inspiration should be recognized, must guard
against illusion and false prophets, must convince men that the
chosen prophet was preaching what he knew, and not mingling
with it fancy and speculation. If by incarnation, He must
secure that this incarnation should not be treated as one
44 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Oct.,
amongst many, or as the incarnation of some subordinate and
imaginary deity. He must also secure, whichever plan He
chose, that this manifestation of Himself should endure.
Christians claim that God chose to manifest Himself by
way of incarnation, in accordance with an eternal plan which
the universe had been progressively realizing, and amongst a
people whom, for centuries, He had been preparing for this
event. We have traced the development of this plan amongst
the Gentiles. Before studying its culmination in the coming
of Christ, we must look for a moment at its development
amongst the Jews. For the best way to answer the question,
has a revelation been made, is to study how it was made to
watch it being made.
The concept of God as "I am Who am" was far in advance
of the age in which it first appeared, so much so that its sig-
nificance was for a long time but dimly appreciated even by
the people to whom this name was made known. They did
not understand it, but they believed that God had spoken, and
clung to the letter of His word. Therefore, it grew amongst
them, their notion of God on this account becoming progres-
sively more pure and more spiritual.
Evolution, here as elsewhere, was largely due to the efforts
of individual men, notably to the prophets. But the endurance
of this seminal notion, amid disaster and infidelity, the absence
of reversal, its steady development as the keynote of Jewish
theology, the note that bespoke not merely monotheism, but a
monotheism of transcendent purity and depth, indicates some-
thing more than the mere inspiration of prophets. God was
with this people, as He said.
Jahweh was the God of Israel, the Father of the people
whom He had selected for a special purpose in the economy
of His Providence over man. Vaguely, this purpose was recog-
nized by the people themselves: in them all nations were
somehow to be blessed. How, they knew not. But gradually,
as prophetic insight grew, it became clear that a Messias, a
King, a Redeemer, was to come, Who should establish a new
order of things. There was to be a new Kingdom of Israel in
which the Gentiles also should be embraced.
The fundamental fact was plain, though as to the manner
of its realization views were diverse and discordant. A tem-
poral kingdom was at first expected, a kingdom won by con-
1921.]
WHY GOD BECAME MAN
45
quest. Even when the Jews became a subject race, the hope of
a conquering Messias still lived on. Slowly, however, the tem-
poral expectation was transformed into one more spiritual, as
the concept of God grew more clear. The new order was to be
a Divine order, a kingdom of justice and of God. It was to
bring about an intensification of Israel's sonship. And He
Who was to effect this was to be a supernatural Being, Who
was to come on the clouds of heaven, was to be called Em-
manuel, God-with-us, or God-sent, was to be the manifestation
of Jahweh Himself, come now in justice and in power.
It has been thought that in the Jewish Scriptures there are
traces even of the doctrine of the Trinity. Wisdom is person-
ified as something other than God; as something which He
knows, and which finds favor with Hun and gives life; and,
again, as the emanation of Divine glory, the splendor of
eternal light, the mirror of God's activity, and the image of His
goodness. Memra, or the Word, is conceived as something
which goes forth from God, and has a mission or function;
as that by which God creates and in which the universe sub-
sists. The Spirit is spoken of as a Divine force or energy with-
out which life fails and with which it develops; as that which
gives power to the saints, martyrs, prophets, and servants of
Jahweh; as something which is to be poured forth in abun-
dance, when the Messias shall come, both upon Him and upon
His posterity.
That there is something more here than the mere person-
ification of Divine powers or activities is possible. But if there
be Wisdom, a Word, and a Spirit, as well as Jahweh, there is
plainly no Trinity. The most one can say is that the idea of
some diversity in God is suggested, though without any clear
indication whether it be personal or not; or whether it really
be in God, or between God and some Divine emanation, such
as the Alexandrian Logos, which was neither personal nor
strictly Divine, but rather an idea-force operating as a Divine
intermediary. In regard to the Trinity, and more especially
in respect to the Messias, the truth was already adumbrated,
but before its threads could be woven together and their sig-
nificance rightly discerned, it was necessary that the reality
should appear.
The reality did appear in Christ.
The Synoptic Gospels give us an account of the Christ as
46 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Oct.,
He was known to those who were most intimate with Him
during His life. They present us with a plain, ungarnished
record of His life, and of some of His parables and sayings.
They have stood the test of a criticism, far longer and more
detailed and more acute than has been given to any other
documents in the world. And they remain unassailable today,
except on the a priori ground that the facts they contain are
impossible. The Evangelists draw no inference from their
facts. But to accept them is to accept the fact that God has
become manifest in the world.
He, Whose life the Evangelists record, certainly gave
evidence of wonderful power, alike over diseases, over nature,
over death, and over those whom evil spirits possessed. All
recognized this, enemies as well as friends; and all attributed
it to a supernatural agency. If it was due to special knowl-
edge, then it was due to knowledge which even yet the human
race does not possess. If it was due to the devil, then the
devil, as Christ Himself argued, must be divided against
himself.
It was mainly the works of Jesus that at length convinced
His disciples that He must be the Christ. But, also, He ap-
pealed to prophecy. He was the One for Whom Israel had
been looking so long. The visions of the prophets admitted
of many interpretations. Now He to Whom they pointed had
come, and in Him their true interpretation was made plain.
This is His message to John the Baptist, 1 to the synagogue, 2
and to His own followers. 3 It is also the message which the
Apostles were to preach later on to the House of Israel, and
to which the Evangelists call our attention in the course of
their narrative.
Christ also impressed His own generation by the manner
in which He spoke. Of the Father He speaks as One having an
intimate experience, an experience that is peculiar to Himself.
"No one knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither doth anyone
know the Father, but the Son, and he to whom it shall please
the Son to reveal Him." 4 He frequently reminds his hearers
that they are children of God, but never confuses His own
Sonship with theirs. 5 He is in a unique sense Son of God, 6
1 Matthew xi. 2-6. 2 Luke xvii. 21. Luke x. 23, 24.
* Matthew xi. 27; Luke x. 22.
8 Compare Matthew x. 29 with x. 33 ; Luke xi. 13, xii. 39 with xxii. 29, xxiv. 49.
"Matthew xxi. 37, 38; Mark xii. 6, 7; Luke xx. 13, 14.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 47
and as such is recognized by God at His Baptism and Trans-
figuration. He insists that in the absolute sense there is only
one Master, only One Who is good; 7 yet Himself claims to be
Master 8 and does not refuse the title, "good," though He in-
quires on what ground it is used of Him. He comes as God's
messenger, yet speaks in His own name, contrasting what the
Law says with His own teaching. 9 He announces God's king-
dom, but Himself claims to be King, 10 is charged with this,
mocked on account of it, and crucified under this title.
The attitude of man towards God should, the Christ
teaches, be one of humility, penitence, confidence. Towards
Himself he encourages precisely the same attitude. "Come to
Me . . . and I will refresh you; take My yoke upon you . . .
and you shall find rest for your souls." 11 He, like God, is
present wherever His disciples are gathered together. 12 What
is done to His brethren is done to Him, and shall gain for the
doer admission to His eternal Kingdom. 13 Those who confess
Him, He will confess before His Father. 1 * Like God, He can
read hearts, forgive sins, foretell the future, and will come as
the Judge of the world.
In the Synoptic Gospels Christ's claim to a unique Sonship,
in virtue of which He has power, co-equal with that of the
Father, is manifest alike from His actions and words. He
vindicates His claim by the exercise of this power, the evidence
for which the Gospels record. But, though the conclusion is
implied in the evidence, the Synoptists do not draw it forth.
Their aim is to depict Christ as He was known to His contem-
poraries, to set forth the evidence as it grew. During His life-
time the full significance of His claim was not recognized by
His disciples. It was His enemies who saw the more clearly
the purport of His words, and for the blasphemy implied by
them, if His claim were not true, put Him to death. To the
disciples the passion and death came as a staggering blow, in
spite of the fact that Christ had foreseen and foretold it.
Their growing faith was shattered. They still retained their
love for the Master, but they gave up all hope that He might
prove to be the Messias. Consequently, they were no less stag-
gered By the report that the tomb had been found empty than
'Matthew xix. 17, xxiii. 8; Mark x. 17. "Matthew xxiii. 10; Mark xiv. 14.
Matthew v. 21, etc. 10 Luke xix. 38-40. " Matthew xi. 28-30.
12 Matthew xviii. 20. " Matthew xxv. 34-40.
"Matthew x. 32; Mark viii. 38; Luke xii. 8.
48 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Oct.,
they had been by the spectacle of His death; and were re-
luctant to believe it, till they themselves had investigated the
matter. The inference that He had risen, as He promised,
backed by the report of some who had seen Him, was for the
rest an idle tale, till they had seen Him for themselves.
Such is the essence of the narrative as given by the Synop-
tists. They describe Christ from the point of view of a con-
temporary who witnesses the facts, and beholds the faith of
the disciples increasing or waning as the prima facie evidence
demands. Those facts are recorded which were common
knowledge and with which all were struck at the time.
The Fourth Gospel presents Christ from a different point
of view, namely, from the point of view of one who, already
having accepted His claim to divinity, in the light of this faith
looks back upon the facts of His life. During His lifetime He
was not understood, John says. 15 Now, we do understand Him :
He was the Word made Flesh. 16 Facts which at the time had
created no great impression on the minds of the disciples,
and had rapidly sunk into their unconscious memory, from
the new viewpoint become important, and so are recalled.
John tells the same story as the other Evangelists, but with
many additional incidents and sayings, which at the time had
appeared incomprehensible. There is still no public preach-
ing o "the mysteries of the kingdom," which were to be re-
vealed only after Jesus' death. But there is frequent refer-
ence to them, especially in private conversation; and both to
the representatives of the Old Church, the "Jews," and to His
Apostles, the nucleus of the New, Jesus declares plainly Who
He is.
John also, unlike the other Evangelists, summarizes in a
preface the doctrine for which he is about to adduce evidence,
and throughout his narrative introduces comments with a view
to showing that the doctrine then preached in the Church is
the same as that taught by the Lord. He still presents to us
the historical Jesus, but presents Him now, not as He appeared
to unappreciative and half-converted disciples, but as He was
in reality, God become manifest in the flesh.
John the Baptist confessed that he was not the Christ,
but had come to prepare the way for the Christ, Who was
really "before him," and so was "preferred." What does this
"John J. 10, 11; ji. 22; xii. 16. "John i. 14.
1921.]
WHY GOD BECAME MAN
49
mean? It means, says John, that "no man hath seen the
Father at any time," but that "the Only-begotten Son, Who is
in the bosom of the Father, hath declared Him," of Whose
"fullness we have all received." 17 It means that the Word
Who was in the beginning with God, and Who was God, hath
now become Flesh, and is dwelling amongst us. 18 John the
Baptist said: "He must increase and I must decrease," be-
cause "He that cometh from above is above all." He that
cometh from above testifieth "what He hath seen and heard."
Therefore, "he that hath received the testimony, hath set to
his seal that God is true. For He Whom God hath sent,
speaketh the words of God; since God doth not give the spirit
by measure, but loveth the Son and hath given all things into
His hand." 19
This is what Jesus Himself declared to Nicodemus.
"Truly, truly, do I say to thee that We speak what We know,
and testify what We have seen. No man hath ascended into
heaven, except He descended from heaven, Who is in heaven,
namely the Son of man. And as the serpent was lifted up in
the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whosoever
believeth in Him may have life everlasting. For God hath so
loved the world as to give His Only-begotten Son, that who-
soever believeth in Him may not perish." 20
In like manner He attested His Divine origin and Son-
ship to the Pharisees, in whose presence He had forgiven the
woman taken in adultery. "I am not alone, but am one with
the Father that sent Me. Therefore, in giving testimony of
Myself, the Father also giveth testimony of Me. If you believe
not that I am He, you shall die in your sin, for what I speak in
the world are the things that I have heard of Him that sent
Me." 21 And again to the Jews : "If you continue in My words,
you shall know Truth, and the Truth shall make you free.
For, as sinners, you are the slaves of sin, but if the Son, Who
abideth for ever, make you free, you shall indeed be free." 22
"I speak what I have seen and heard with My Father. This
Abraham did not. For from God I proceeded and came, and
before Abraham was, I am." 23
"Chacune de ces sentences a I'autorite d'un temoignage
irrefragable, et la sereine assurance d'une science eternelle,"
"John i. 15, etc. *John i. 1-14. "John iii. 30-35. 20 John iii. 11-16.
81 John vili. 12-16, John vilL 31-36. John viii. 38-42, 58.
VOL. CXIV. 4
50 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Oct.,
says Pere Lebreton, 24 and so clearly was their purport
grasped by the theologians of the day that they took up stones
to stone Him for blasphemy.
John, on the other hand, is not a theologian. He has out-
grown the crude realism of Philip, who, at the Last Supper,
could exclaim: show us the Father, and it is enough for us.
He knows now that He Who seeth the Christ, seeth the Father
also. His Gospel, none the less, is a historical narrative, not
a theological dissertation. Had it been otherwise he would
have realized at once the outstanding difficulty that his nar-
rative presents. Not only are the works of Jesus given Him by
the Father, 25 His power to do judgment, 26 His life in God, 27
His dominion over all flesh, 28 in a word, all that He has; 29
but He prays to the Father, 30 obeys the Father, 31 and acknowl-
edges that the Father is greater than Himself. 32 How, then,
does He "make Himself God." 33
John sees no difficulty here, though his words later on
were to give rise to bitter controversy in the Church. And the
reason is precisely that John's sole aim is to depict Jesus as
He was. He claimed to be "the Only-begotten Son of God;"
to be "in the Father and the Father in Him;" to "have all that
the Father hath, as the Father hath all that is His;" to "have
come forth from the Father," yet to have been existent "in
the beginning;" to be "able to do nothing of Himself," yet to be
capable of "whatsoever He seeth the Father doing;" to "give
life as the Father gives life;" and to "have worked, as the
Father works, even until now." Therefore, John records this
claim, as he records Christ's statement that He was less than
the Father, "to Whom He would return," and the fact of His
obedience and His prayer.
If we distinguish between the sense in which Christ is
inferior to God and the sense in which He is God's equal, we
can doubtless resolve the apparent contradiction between the
statements which imply subordination and diversity and the
statements which affirm equality and immanence. But John
does not make this distinction. He does not bear witness at
one time to the Humanity of Christ and at another time to His
Divinity. He envisages just the one living Person, God's Only-
begotten Son Who in the flesh manifests the Father because
**Les Origines du dogme de la Trinite, p. 399. 25 John v. 36.
M John v. 22, 27. John v. 26. = John xvii. 2. John iii. 35 ; xiii. 3.
89 John xvii. 1, 2. John xiv. 31; xv. 10. "John xiv. 28. John x, 33.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 51
He was one with the Father, and Who also is obedient to the
Father. The emphasis is not on the two natures, nor yet on
the personality as such, but on the living Reality which is
Christ. Recognizing that Christ is God, John would re-tell, from
the point of view of faith, the story which the other Evangelists
have already told from the point of view of a mere human
eyewitness. But the story is still of real life. The Humanity
is there, no less than the Divinity, and is discernible from it,
but John would have us see them functioning together in the
concrete. And for this very reason, he solves, though uncon-
sciously, both the problems which were to crop up later on and
the problems which had been puzzling the world for so long.
How bring together the ultimate Reality and humanity,
which seems so far removed from it? Some had placed then-
trust in sacrifice and ceremony. Others, more thoughtful, had
insisted that knowledge must be the prime factor, knowledge
which should permeate a man, and so bring him into union
with the Known. Some had sought this union through obe-
dience to the laws of the universe, which God was thought to
animate. Others, conceiving God as transcendent, had re-
moved Him so far from the universe that a later age had to
invent all manner of intermediaries in the endeavor to unite
them again. Man had displayed an immense ingenuity in de-
vising means of bringing God to earth. But in vain. The
truth was in fragments; nowhere was there certainty; nowhere
had the fragments endurance or vitalizing power. Now Truth
has come into the world. You wish to believe in it? Then
behold it in Christ, says John. His works, His words, His
authority, His power, His intimacy with the Father, His love
for mankind, His meekness, His pity, His zeal, His obedience,
His patience, His suffering, His triumph over all things, even
death, testify Who He is. He is no mere man, but Truth In-
carnate. He speaks not of Himself, but what He hath heard
and seen. He was what He claimed to be. He, and He alone,
hath had experience of God.
Salvation comes through knowledge of the Truth declare
one and all the philosophers. Christ is Truth. 34 In this is
eternal life that they may know Thee, the only true God, and
Jesus Christ, Whom Thou hast sent. 35 In Him we know the
true God, for He is in the Father, and the Father is in Him.
34 John xiv. 6. John xvii. 3.
52 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Oct.,
His words are the words of the Father, and His actions be-
speak the love of the Father. 30 He is the Light which came
into the world, 37 the true Light. 38 He that liveth in the Light,
liveth also in the Truth. 39 And those that believe in the Light,
shall become children of Light, and shall walk without stum-
bling. 40
Therefore, He is also the Life. 41 You seek water? I will
give you living water, which shall become in you a fountain
of water, springing up into life eternal, and of which whoso-
ever drinketh, shall never thirst again. 42 If any man thirst,
let him come to Me and drink. 43 Your fathers did eat manna,
and are dead? Behold, My Father giveth you the true bread
which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life to the world.
I am that Bread. 44 Yes, even sacramental Bread. For My flesh
is meat indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. He that eateth
My flesh and drinketh My blood, abideth in Me and I in Him.
As the living Father hath sent Me, and I live by the Father, so
he that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me. 45 As the
branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abide in the vine,
so neither can you, unless you abide in Me. 46 That you may be
one together in Me, as I and the Father are one, you in Me and
I in Him. 47
The yearning which the Brahmin had for union with God
is here satisfied by no abstract Absolute, but by union with the
living Christ, Who is God. The true way which Zoroaster
sought, and knew could come only through the Truth, is here
made manifest in Truth, which has now become Incarnate in
the world. That identity with the World-spirit which the
Stoic hoped to attain through obedience to the natural law,
is here promised through obedience to Christ, Who will accom-
plish it in us, as the Father accomplisheth it eternally in Him.
The transcendent God of Aristotle has come down to the
earth : the eternal Thought of thought has expressed Itself now
in human fashion, thereby becoming intelligible, even as are
the thoughts of man.
Nothing is lost, neither of goodness, nor of truth. Be-
ligion is still to be a matter of conscience; but we shall walk
without stumbling only if we become children of light through
88 John xiv. 10, 12. John viil. 12; ix. 5; xil. 46. John i. 9.
1 John i. 7, 8; ii. 4. "John vii. 12; xii. 36, 46; cf. 1 John i. 7; ii. 10.
41 John xiv. 6. John iv. 10-14. John vii. 37. John vi. 32-51.
John vi. 52-59. John xv. 4. John xvii< 11> 2 0-23.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 53
belief in the Light that reveals. There is still to be sacrifice,
for the Christ is lifted up; and contact with God is still to be
established in sacramental ways, which shall centre round a
sacramental food. But the sacrifice we offer will no longer be
merely a figure, nor our sacraments merely symbols. We shall
offer to the Father His Only-begotten Son, and shall partake of
the Body and Blood of the Lord.
The problem of evil also is solved, not by a denial of its
existence, but by the advent of a power in which evil can be
surely overcome. In the process to which all created being is
subject, God, by becoming man, now shares. He has abolished
neither suffering nor sin; but has borne in His own Person
the consequences of sin, and over suffering has triumphed,
from death has arisen. The allurements of the world and the
flesh remain; but if we believe in Him, trust Him, abide in
Him, against Whom they had no power, we shall no longer fall
a prey to their false charm. Suffering, disease, disaster will
still be evil to those who seek their happiness in the creature;
but to those who in His way seek God, they will become but a
means to this end. God has gained the victory, therefore
victory is assured through the Son, with Whom we may be-
come one, as He is one with the Father.
John's vision of God-become-man has been compared with
Philo's concept of the Logos. Possibly, the author of the
Fourth Gospel had some knowledge of Alexandrine thought.
Possibly, it is for this reason he introduces the term "Logos"
into his preface. But he uses it only in the preface, and there
only twice. Moreover, the striking parallelism between this
preface and the opening paragraphs of Genesis suggests that
John has chiefly in mind the "spoken word" of God. In any
case the vision of John as developed in his Gospel and the
Alexandrine doctrine are radically different. Philo's Logos
is an intermediary being, which expresses imperfectly the
thought of God, and is used by Him as instrument and model
in the creation and sustentation of the universe. It is a kind
of "concrete universal," expressed in phenomena and serving
as their unifying principle. It is, therefore, essentially cos-
mological in character. John's Logos is not. It is essentially
spiritual. The beings which it unifies are human beings, and
the life in which it unifies them is both spiritual and divine.
There is no reference to the cosmological functions of the
54 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Oct.,
Christ-/o<7os except in the one passage which says that by Him
all things were made. Philo's Logos is imperfect and imper-
sonal; John's is both perfect and personal. Philo's Logos is
the shadow, image, or imprint of God on the world, in knowing
which we know God only with that imperfect knowledge
which may be derived by arguing from effect to cause: is
"Son of God" only in the metaphorical sense, in the same sense
that the world is described as the "second Son of God." John's
Logos is the perfect image of God expressed in a human being,
to behold Whom is to behold God Himself, because with Him
God is one, and in Him, incarnate in the flesh, is the eternal
Father's Only-begotten Son. The one is a "mediator," half
cosmical, half Divine, linking together God and the world.
The other is wholly Divine, and becomes a Mediator only by
identifying Himself with an already created race, which He
would redeem from sin, and elevate to union with the Father.
John is not philosophizing, still less seeking to harmonize
religious with philosophical belief. And it is precisely because
he is not seeking this, but to depict for us the Jesus Whom he
knew, that in the Reality thus presented the half-truths of the
philosophers find at once synthesis, vitality, and perfection.
In philosophy we start with a problem, which is solved, if at
all, only after a tedious and uncertain process of reasoning
from premise to conclusion. In Christianity we start, as in
history, with the concrete fact, in which, when we have grasped
it, we find that the solution of our problems is already con-
tained. Philosophy starts with a question, of which it seeks
the true answer. Christianity starts with Truth Incarnate;
then finds the questions which are answered.
John's message and that of the Synoptists is the same : the
Messias has come; God has become manifest; the Word is
made flesh. Truth is no longer abstract, It dwelleth amongst
us. Knowledge is no longer divorced from experience, for of
the Christ man has experience, and in Him of the Father,
whence all knowledge and all reality proceed. Then, He Who
has linked truth with reality, knowledge with experience,
returns to His Father, and the root of man's certainty is gone.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK.
BY CHARLES C. CONATY.
(Concluded.)
BEFORE THE ARGONNE.
N all the hundreds of years during which these
church bells had summoned the inhabitants of
the little village to Mass, or had sounded the
Angelus, or proclaimed the death of some faith-
ful soul, they had never rung out with such peals
of joy as they did this glorious September afternoon. For it
was the day we learned of the San Mihiel drive, and the good
Cure of the village in which we were billeted (his name is on
the page before me) insisted that the victory should be cele-
brated by the ringing of the bells. And the celebration ceased
only when we were no longer able to pull the ropes, so ex-
hausted were we. Then the parish priest who (as I learned
during my short stay with him) was a sort of book merchant
for all the priests of that district, showed us about the old
church, explaining its history. Still attesting the power of the
"grand family" of the town was a half-obliterated black line,
painted around on the outside wall of the church about ten
feet from the ground. In the olden days, the death of a mem-
ber of this family was made known by a stripe of mourning
painted around the church walls!
Though our kitchens had not yet arrived, our lot was
fairly comfortable, and we were anticipating a much needed
rest after our long period in action from the Marne to the
Aisne. But anticipation was all we had, for after two days in
this village, we were ordered to be ready to march at nightfall.
Just as we were ready to leave, a column of about four hundred
replacements arrived. Poor lads, how tired they looked!
When they learned that they must start out almost imme-
diately their comments were stifling. The pack carried by
some of them reached actually to their heels. Our old men re-
lieved them of much surplus equipment, but, untrained and
soft from lack of preparation, many of them fell by the way
during the march of that and subsequent nights. These men
56 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
(most of them, at least) had not had a moment's training,
either in America or France. Now they were going into the
line. They were of no help to us, rather a hindrance. Though
we were only about forty per cent, strength, we could have
fought better and had fewer casualties with just our old men
than we did in our filled-up state. These new men were in
action four weeks from the time they had left their homes for
camp. They lacked a knowledge even of how to load and fire
their rifles. Above all, they lacked the habitual obedience of a
trained soldier, and, as a result they drove our officers to des-
peration. They seemed unable to realize that obedience meant
safety, and so would flock together even in the very front line.
Not only were many of them killed as a result of their lack of
training, but they were the cause, unwittingly, of the death of
many of our officers, both commissioned and non-commis-
sioned. The fault was not theirs; it lay rather in a system, or
rather a lack of system, which permitted untrained men to be
in action. It was simply criminal.
Night after night we marched, resting during the day-time,
and finally we camped in the Argonne forest, a few kilometres
behind the four-year-old line. Our few days here were spent
in a feverish attempt to get the green men into some sort of
shape, for we knew that a drive was in preparation.
It was a busy time for me, making the rounds of my own
battalion and reaching out to attend to the Catholic boys in
the "outfits" nearby which had no priest. Ordinarily, my altar
was the medical cart. On Sunday, however, we removed the
tail-board and placed it on top of a few boxes of ammunition,
covering the whole "edifice" with an O. D. blanket. This altar
had been put up under a large tree in a location which seemed
the most suitable for a large gathering, though we were fairly
well concealed from aerial observation by the trees. About
gospel time in the Mass, it commenced to rain and by Com-
munion time we were all of us drenched. But, of course, no
one even thought of leaving. I turned around and gave the
boys General Absolution, and then gave them all Holy Com-
munion.
I shall never forget that morning and those boys as they
knelt there on the wet ground, the rain falling on their bared
heads, as they received the Body and Blood of their Lord.
How near we were to the Heart of the Master! Two of the
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 57
boys improvised a covering out of a shelter-half supported by
two sticks, which they held over my head. The intention was
good, but the result disheartening. Instead of receiving the
rain drop by drop, I received it in streams. But as I see pro-
cessions of the Blessed Sacrament, in which a magnificent
canopy is carried over Our Lord, I always think of that day
when Our Lord's canopy was a shelter-half. Giving Com-
munion that morning was very difficult as the particles kept
sticking to my wet fingers. After Mass, I distributed all the
rosaries and prayer books and medals which I had fortunately
received a few days before from the Chaplains' Aid Society.
But a few days later I was taking some of those prayer books
and rosaries from the pockets of those same boys. They had
met the Master.
An hour or so after Mass I gave a talk to the boys who
were not Catholics, trying to prepare them for what I knew
was in store for them, for all of us. Before long, many of
them would be before the judgment seat of God. My expe-
rience with non-Catholics (or Protestants if you will) led me
to pity them from the bottom of my heart. Of religion, as
such, they know nothing (I am speaking now of the vast
majority of those with whom I came in contact). At most,
they have but a hazy belief in God, a vague confidence of
heaven, and a dim, very dim, conception of hell. Of Christ
and His teaching they are sadly ignorant. Protestantism has
taken faith and hope and love of God from their hearts. In
return it has given them nothing. In this time of trial, they
found themselves without any support of a religious nature.
And bitter was their realization of their spiritual poverty. The
presence of Christ meant nothing, and they wondered un-
ceasingly at the courage and strength which the Catholic boys
derived from attendance at Mass and the reception of Holy
Communion.
After all, Protestantism, beginning with negation, has
reached its logical conclusion in the negation, or at least dis-
regard, of everything Christian. Some, of course, had a sort
of faith; many were naturally good; many learned to pray
with shells and bullets as instructors. Not that they were
cowards, but, for the first time in their lives, they felt the need
of a God. I yearned, indeed, to help them, to share with them
the faith which meant so much in our trials, but there was no
58 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
foundation on which to build. Their cry for food had been
answered by a book being thrust into their hands. Holy, yes,
the Book of God, but how were they to understand it even if
they had time to read it? Their spiritual condition is a simple
and logical result of the principle of Protestantism. It has
produced a spiritual blight. Its ministers have nothing to
minister, no authority to teach. They realized it and the boys
did.
To many the War was a revelation from a religious view-
point; wherever one went, one found always a priest with a
definite work. His work was not to talk in vague terms of
God and morality. When he talked it was generally definitely
and briefly. His chief work was the administration of the
Sacraments, and, to the Catholic, it made no difference who
or what the priest was, he was always a priest one who
could offer Mass, and one from whom he (the Catholic) could
receive the Sacraments. By the American tests of efficiency
and "workability" and results, the Catholic Religion proved
itself.
These days granted us before the start of the drive were
too few to permit me to learn our new men as I would have
liked. However, I spoke at least once to each of the com-
panies, and between hearing confessions, giving Communion
and doing all manner of commissions for the boys, my days
and nights were filled up. From experience, our boys had
learned that the chances of receiving the last Sacraments were
very slight. There must be no waiting no chances must be
taken on that score, at least. Death was always close, one must
be ready. So, during the summer my boys had received Com-
munion about once a week, sometimes oftener. It was our
great source of strength. More than ever we realized that the
Real Presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament is the very
heart of our Faith. It is at the base of the priesthood. With-
out it we would have no Mass. It is the full realization of
Christ's love for men. And love, after all, not fear, is the
essence of Christianity. Much valuable time and many words
have been wasted in the attempt to inspire men with a fear
of death and a dread of hell. Men are not afraid to die, nor
is the knowledge and fear of hell a very powerful deterrent
from evil doing. It was the love of Christ which appealed
most strongly to men, the love which He showed by His suf-
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 59
ferings and His Sacrifice; the love He gives so abundantly in
the Mass and in Holy Communion. To us He was always
"Gentle Jesus."
TRENCH MORTARS.
"Chaplain, this is going to be 'some' drive, believe me,"
said the Lieutenant as he stretched himself full-length on the
ground under the little shelter which we had constructed by
stretching our united shelter-halves from tree to tree. "I saw
the maps this morning, showing the various objectives of the
different divisions, and if the drive works, it will mean the end
of the War."
"The end of the War?" I replied in wonder, "then God be
with us. But when does it start?"
All conversation the last few days ended with the query
as to when this much-prepared-for drive would commence.
But my companion had no definite information on this point.
It was evident, however, from the completeness of the prepar-
ations, that the start would be soon. And not long after our
conversation the Major stuck his head under our home and
informed us, in all secrecy of course, that the "show" was
to start this very night. Our battalion was to be the Divisional
reserve force, to be under the direct orders of the Divisional
Chief-of-Staff. Hence, we would not take part in the initial
attack following the all-night barrage, but would be used for
any emergency which might arise during the progress of the
advance. Which all sounded very well to us, though the after-
math proved that being Division reserve was far from a
desirable honor. For it meant being shifted continually
from one part of the line to another, filling up "holes" in the
line, bolstering up the weak places, a sort of general utility
outfit.
Darkness that night found us all ready for the march
towards a point where we were to remain awaiting further
orders. Marching along the road to the front, we met the
French soldiers, relieved by our troops, hurrying back to the
rear. They did not seem very sad at being deprived of a part
in the drive. Which was only natural, considering what those
brave, blue-clad men had already done. There was little to
distinguish this marching from previous marches until our
barrage started at eleven o'clock. The number of guns firing,
60 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
the quantity of shells fired during that all-night bombardment
of the enemy positions, is beyond my knowledge. But I do
know this, it was the worst experience I ever had. The noise
was like the roaring of a thousand Niagaras, the earth shook
with the concussion of the guns; the shells filled the air with
their whistling. Compared with this, the artillery I had expe-
rienced in the past three months was as nothing. Though
scarcely a shell came from the enemy, I confess I was thor-
oughly frightened by the noise of our own guns. It was un-
canny, horrifying; and the noise beat against the ears till it
seemed as though they must burst. Some of the new men,
never having heard the guns fired before, were literally shell-
shocked. The immense howitzers belched forth their shells
with a flaming mouth, and the force of the concussion lifted
us off the ground. We passed the 155 rifles; and, finally, the
75's hub to hub, barking so rapidly as to seem like machine
guns. And so for miles and miles along the front the roar
arose as if from some deep-throated infernal monster. The
ensemble was awful; striking fear into one's very soul.
As we neared the front, the road became rougher and
rougher; soon it could no longer be distinguished from the
shell-torn ground about it. Four years of bombardment had
obliterated the least sign of it. We followed some wheel-ruts
made by the artillery, and, turning off to the right, soon located
a corduroy road, leading through some woods behind a hill.
To walk on the round surfaces of the timbers in such a road is,
at best, a difficult task; but to have to walk single file, forced
continually to step off into the brush and mud to avoid being
smashed beneath a snorting stream of baby tanks, such as
made our progress a slow and dangerous one that night, is
simply beyond description.
We laid on the hillside awaiting our orders till about
three o'clock that afternoon. Of how the drive was progress-
ing, we knew nothing, but the absence of any shelling from the
German lines seemed to point to a retirement on their part.
Orders came, finally, that we should start at once and affect
liaison between the left of our divisional line and the line of
the division on our right; if necessary, to fill in the line.
Rounding the hill, we came upon a battery preparing to move
their guns forward. The Germans had retreated till they were
out of range, so these artillery men told us. We found out
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 61
later that this was far from true, but the mistake had been
made, and we could get no artillery support when we needed
it badly, to help us overcome the resistance we met with a few
miles further on at a point well within the range of these
guns.
Soon we had our first glimpse of a real "No Man's Land."
It was as if a blight had hit this mighty forest and left in its
wake a swath about four miles wide in which nothing re-
mained save the churned earth, an occasional charred tree-
stump, but no living thing, not even a blade of grass. Four
years of continual shellfire had wiped out almost every vestige
of vegetation, turning a once beautiful forest into a pock-
marked desert, which oppressed one more than death.
Through it ran systems of trenches, shellholes of varying sizes,
all manner of barb-wire entanglements. Only this morning,
our men had crossed this desolate, ill-omened ground in their
charge; nor could they ever explain how they managed to get
through the wire. Overhead two planes were fighting; there
in front of us lay the woods which we must enter, following
the little white markers which the engineers had used to note
the course of a road they would construct across this wilder-
ness of death. Crawling around shellholes, jumping across
trenches, we finally reached the beginning of the wooded coun-
try and located the tracks of a narrow-gauge railroad, which
we followed into the heart of the woods.
Darkness falling but added to our difficulty. Our progress
was necessarily wary and slow, depending on the scouts out in
front of the column. But, at length, the line was located and
the ordered liaison accomplished. The line was solid now.
After outposts had been stationed, the remainder of the bat-
talion found protection and shelter in an old German trench.
It had been covered with boughs and branches of trees to
camouflage it, and as it was not very deep, we had to crawl
along almost doubled up; for it had but one or two points of
entry and we feared to disturb the covering lest the noise be
detected by the enemy. Here we spent what remained of the
night, unable to stand erect, unable to lie down, so crowded
were our quarters. The rain came through the covering, and,
though we sat against one side of the trench and stuck our
feet into the opposite side, we could not keep from slipping
now and then into the water which was about six inches deep
62 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
in the bottom of the trench. If we could smoke ! But we were
too close to risk it.
Orders came that at half-past six the line was to attack.
At the break of dawn, before it was yet bright enough to be
seen by the enemy, we crawled from our places, stiff and sore,
our bodies cramped, to form for the attack. While the com-
panies were forming, we must have been seen, for, of a sudden,
we were shelled by trench-mortars. The explosion of these
shells was terrific, and the destruction they wrought was ap-
palling. In less time than it takes to tell, the bombardment
was over (though it seemed to have lasted for ages). But a
few feet from where I was, an entire platoon was wiped out.
Twenty men were killed outright; thirty wounded. The shells
fell so rapidly there was no escape, nor any possibility of
help. Some of the dead bore not a trace of a wound; the con-
cussion had killed them. While I was trying to bind up the
wounds of the injured, and get them into the trench where
they might have what protection it afforded, the line attacked.
The doctor was wounded before he had dressed a single man,
and went to the rear with those of the wounded who were able
to walk. As soon as we dressed the wounds of those who could
not walk, we picked out the serious cases, and sent them back
as rapidly as we could get men to carry them, on the rude
stretchers made from blankets stretched over poles cut from
trees. The work was slow, and it took wonderful courage and
patience on the part of the wounded to lie there for hours till
men could be found to carry them back. It meant a carriage
of several miles, for, at that time, the ambulances could not
get across the "No Man's Land."
So many Americans were wounded in that drive that those
who were at all able to walk, in most cases walked all the way
back to the hospitals. In addition to those hit in the barrage,
many others were wounded in the attack and during the day,
but, somehow or other, we got them all back. During the night
orders came that at the coming of daylight we should proceed
up a certain road and await orders at a little town. It would
have been easy to obey save that that "certain road" was so
well covered by machine guns that a shadow could not get by.
When the companies left, I kept a few of the boys with
me to bury the dead. All told, we buried twenty-five of our
comrades in that trench, a little cross at the head of each one's
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 63
grave, a large cross marking the location of our little cemetery.
Some of those I buried had never fired a rifle in their lives
yet they had been killed at the front. These poor, mangled
bodies housed souls but a few hours ago! We all of us cried
more than once during that day of sad duty. We never be-
came accustomed to death. Some of the dead were in such
shape that the boys told me they could not bring them to the
trench, so I had to bite my lips, and, collecting the torn bodies
with a shovel, tie them up in a blanket. And so we laid them
to rest, these boys whose names fill these pages of my Little
Black Book. We knew that God had already rewarded them.
ADAM.
The duties of a Chaplain, as outlined in Army Regulations,
are, to say the least, rather vague. In a sense, a Chaplain
is an anomaly, a free-lance in an organization in which there
is no freedom, the nature and scope of whose work depends,
to a very large extent, upon his own conception of it. To my
status as a Chaplain I transferred my conception of my calling
as a priest, that I should, as far as in me lay, try to be "all
things to all men." Primarily, I was a Chaplain to care for the
spiritual interests of the Catholic soldiers; secondarily, for
those of the boys not of my faith. But man is composed of
body and soul and his spiritual and physical needs are dis-
sociated only in theory; in practice they are interlinked and
interdependent. And so my work as a Chaplain was a mix-
ture of spiritual ministrations with a variety of occupations
extending from referee of boxing matches, doctor, interpreter,
conciliator, to banker. And I was a never failing source of
writing paper and cigarettes.
It must not be wondered at, therefore, if my Little Black
Book shows me in the role of a banker, for here are the names
of many boys, and, opposite the names, the amount of money
I held for each. In spite of the fact that I accompanied them
wherever they went and was just as liable to be hit as any one
of them, the boys seemed to think that their money was safer
in my keeping than in their own pockets. My remonstrances
at taking money were invariably laughed at, for the boys had
it that I couldn't be hit! I had the same belief for a while!
Among the names on this page is that of Adam. I never
64 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
could pronounce his last name properly, and I never attempted
to spell it. Like most Polish names, it is composed almost
exclusively of consonants from the latter part of the alphabet.
I have come to the conclusion, from my experience with Slavic
names, that the children of those races must start with "Z
Y X" instead of "A B C."
From the land of his birth, Adam had gone to America
in search of freedom and fortune. Freedom he found; a for-
tune was not given him though he was a coal miner. He had
never married, and when his adopted country called its sons
to arms, he was among the first to offer himself in the cause of
justice, ready to show his love for the land which had given
him liberty, by fighting, and dying if need be, that that
liberty might be preserved. He was a big hulk of a man, well
over thirty-five years of age. His reddish hair and bristling
mustache gave him a rather forbidding appearance. I doubt
not that today he would be taken for a Bolshevist on sight.
He was fierce only in appearance, for I found him one of the
gentlest and kindest of men, with a mind so clean and a heart
so pure that everyone loved him. He was a big brother to the
other Polish boys in our battalion. His knowledge of English
enabled him to help in many ways those who knew scarcely a
word of it. He was invaluable to the officers and men alike.
But, above all, he was anxious about the religious welfare of
his boys, and he saw to it always that they attended Mass and
received the Sacraments, for, of course, they were all Cath-
olics. I can never forget how helpful he was to me, for he
acted as a "go-between" for me with the Polish Catholics.
How often did I call on him to make in Polish the announce-
ments I had just made in English! I can see him yet, standing
up in the congregation, explaining in his language (and with
more gestures than I had used) what I had said about confes-
sion or Communion. My boys could be divided into three
groups: those who spoke English, Italian, or Polish. I might
add a fourth (to which they all belonged) those who swore.
Adam's command of Polish, added to my knowledge of Eng-
lish and Italian, solved all lingual difficulties.
As regularly as pay-day came (which, in truth, was not at
all regular), Adam would come to me with a handful of
French money, generally about twenty-five dollars' worth,
"given" to him by his Polish boys to be sent to some poor
,
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 65
Polish parish in America. I sometimes thought Adam must
have used a good bit of moral suasion to get his boys to the
"giving" point. "I told them, Father, that it would be better
for them to do good with their money, rather than spending it
foolishly or losing it shooting crap. And I told them, too, that
God wouldn't forget them for helping some poor church."
Then, giving me a piece of paper with the name of the priest
to whom the money was to be sent carefully written out, he
would ask me to write him a letter and tell him to pray for the
American soldiers who sent the money. Truly, Adam, was a
veritable directory of poor Polish parishes in America.
We were camped in the forest some few miles behind the
line in the Argonne, waiting for the drive to begin. As I lay
in my little tent one day, I saw Adam's ruddy face looking in
at me.
"Well, Adam," I said, as I crawled out, "how are you
anyway?"
"Oh, I'm all right, Father. I just thought this was a good
chance to see you and give you some money."
"Money?" I replied. "What do you want done with it?
Want another Polish church built in Pennsylvania or Ohio?"
"This money," he said, handing me two one hundred franc
bills, "is my own. I want you to keep it, and, after I get killed,
you send it to some priest in America for his church and ask
him to pray for me."
I looked up astonished, thinking he must be joking. I was
so surprised by his remark about "after he had been killed"
that I scarcely noticed his failure to give me a definite place to
send the money. He was smiling at me as if he had said
nothing at all unusual.
"What do you mean, Adam, 'after you get killed?' What
makes you think that they're going to get you this time?" I
asked him.
And, smiling all the while, he answered that he couldn't
explain just why he felt that way, but still he felt sure that this
would be his last time. He "knew they would get him this
time," and so he wanted this matter arranged beforehand.
Here it was again, that premonition of which so many
boys had told me. Nothing tangible, just a presentiment that
they would "get their's the next time." I had seen it come true
so often that, though I wondered at it, I had no doubts at all
VOL. CXIV. 5
66 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
about the outcome. It was as if I was talking to a condemned
man. What the explanation of these premonitions
"hunches" the boys called them may be, I cannot say. It may
be that, feeling that they were due, that they were going to
"get it," these boys, unconsciously, were less prudent than
usual, exposed themselves recklessly. It may be so, though
I confess that neither that explanation nor any other I have
ever heard, satisfies me.
"Well, Adam, you don't seem to be very much excited
about it. Doesn't it worry you any?" I asked him.
"Why should I be worried, Father," he replied, still smil-
ing. "I'm all ready now. Better ready than I ever have been.
Since we came to France we haven't had a chance to do any-
thing wrong. We've been living all right. We get to Mass and
Communion so often that I guess we'll never be any better
than we are now. No, I guess God will take care of me. I'm
ready to meet Him."
"God bless you, Adam, and His Blessed Mother be with
you," I said to him reverently as he left me. I felt I was in the
presence of a saint.
A few days later, during an attack, Adam was hit by a
machine gun bullet. He died before they had carried him
back to the dressing station. I did not see him. But I feel
that he died with that same whimsical smile on his face, that
same beautiful faith in his heart. And I know that "God took
care of him."
In a little church in one of our Western States, where a
struggling Polish settlement is trying to worship God accord-
ing to the faith which that race has suffered so much to pre-
serve, there is an altar furnished "in memory of an American
soldier who gave his life in the Argonne for the land of his
adoption and the land of his birth America and Poland."
THE QUARRY.
Time touches with a healing hand the wounds of mind,
as well as those of body. Thus is the horror and bitterness
of actuality tempered in memory's pictures, which, though
clear and distinct in every least detail, are yet free from clash-
ing contrasts. The unpleasant things form a soft background,
against which memory paints the things which were pleasant.
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 67
Already our recollections of the War are losing the sharp
edges of pain. Yet are we doomed to live in the past, never
quite adjusted to normal conditions of life. For those of us
who saw hard fighting, life holds little to stir our interest,
nothing to arouse our enthusiasm. The climax of our lives
has been reached; we are on the long down-grade, our hearts
and minds still on the heights we have passed. Children, in
years to come, will listen to our tales of the Great War with
that mingled respect and pity and doubt which was ours when
we, as children, listened to the stories of the Boys in Blue.
And some young soldier, fresh from fields of fame, will laugh
at the mention of the World War, and scornfully remark
(as I heard remarked not so long ago about the Civil War) :
"Why that World War was a joke! Those fellows don't know
what 'real' war is. Anyone who was wounded in that war
ought to have been court-martialed for carelessness. They
could see the shells and bullets coming in plenty of time to get
out of the way."
But we shall always have our memories, for the most part
sweet; all very precious. And but a slight impulse is needed
to start this motion picture machine, which we call memory.
Once started, it unfolds its pictures in swift succession on the
screen of imagination. And mine is started by the sight of
the names of three boys who were killed on the seventeenth
of October, 1918, and whom I buried that same day.
After seemingly endless ages we were relieved from the
Argonne and found ourselves back, out of "range," in a little
village which we filled to overflowing. It had little of beauty
or comfort to commend it, but it was safe. Most of the officers
were quartered in a hospice managed by some Sisters of St.
Charles. Great, indeed, was the joy of these nuns when I told
them that I was a priest. Now they could have daily Mass once
again; a joy denied them since the outbreak of the War had
deprived this village (as it had so many others) of its priest.
Ah, yes! they would cure the cough of Monsieur L'Aumonier.
They would brew him some herbs which would give him back
his voice. For, in truth, the Chaplain could scarcely talk
above a whisper as a result of having become too intimately
acquainted with some gas. But one draught of the home-
brew was sufficient to convince the Chaplain that the cough
was preferable to the cure. The taste still lingers.
68 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
To fill up our depleted ranks, about four hundred new
troops were sent to us the day after our arrival in this village.
I met them as they marched into town, and was talking with
some of them when the town crier appeared, beating loudly on
his tom-tom, and then told his news to the natives who had
answered the tocsin.
"Whaddyuh call that guy?" someone asked me.
"Oh, he's the town crier," I answered, "a sort of village
newspaper. You see, these little towns don't get any papers
and the only news they receive is from him."
"Whaddidhe say that time?"
For all I knew he might have said that the War was over.
My little knowledge of French was helpless in the torrent of
words which swirled from his lips after rushing madly be-
tween his two teeth. But the question had to be answered.
"He's just telling the natives," I answered, "that they can
sell wine to the soldiers who came yesterday, but they must not
sell any to these soldiers who have just arrived. They have
just come from America and are not used to it,"
What a storm of indignant protests my translation
aroused! But in the excitement and indignation the boys
forgot, for a few moments, their fatigue and hunger. A little
"kidding" was the only medicine we had for "tired, aching
and swollen feet."
Before we had finished our third day in this little town,
we were ordered back into the line. At nightfall, we rolled
our packs and were ready for the trucks, choking the main
street of the little town. The trucks came and went! The
commanding officer of the truck-train had orders to pick us up
at the next town. So, in order that obedience might triumph,
we had to walk three miles in the rain to the next town.
Then, after several very uncomfortable hours in the trucks,
we were put out of the trucks and had to walk back about four
miles because the trucks had carried us too far! I refused to
hear what the boys had to say about the whole affair.
Then came the march up to the front, along a road which
followed a small stream running through a valley. For the
most part we shuffled along in silence too tired even to talk.
Up ahead, an occasional Very light or starshell cast its weird
light over the horizon; then, as we rounded a hill, we could
hear the shrill shriek of shells and see the flash as they ex-
1921.] MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK 69
ploded in the city through which we must pass. There may
have been a man among us who wanted to go through that
town, but I doubt it. No, if we followed our desires, we would
have started for home right then. We old-timers had been
through enough to have a wholesome dread of anything
which exploded; and the new men were having their first
attack of "quivers," a disease which produces a sudden weak-
ness in the region of the knees and the pit of the stomach. And
yet, single file, five paces between men, we went through the
town and crossed a bridge which was under constant fire.
And that is precisely what bravery and heroism mean to me:
the will-power which makes men go where they don't want
to go; go, when every fibre of their being cries out against
going. It is the triumph of the spirit over the body; a victory
of the will aided by prayer. For we all prayed, perhaps but
a word or a thought, but yet a prayer. Atheism doesn't thrive
on shellfire.
Daybreak found us in a valley, in which the Germans,
during their occupation of it, had constructed a number of
barracks and some very pleasing little cottages. The valley,
because of its depth and narrowness, seemed to be a perfectly
safe position. But within an hour we were being shelled,
and three of our boys were killed outright and several others
wounded. As soon as the wounded had been cared for, we
buried the dead in a little green plot of grass, round which
flowed a little stream, singing the requiem of these departed
lads as it journeyed towards its own grave in the far-away
ocean. And there, as its waters mingled with the waves, it
whispered of the brave lads who were buried by its banks.
And the waves took up the story, and lisped to the shores of
America the tale they had heard of America's brave dead.
Taking over the front line positions that same day, we
occupied, as battalion headquarters, a cave in a hillside over-
looking a little town in the valley. This cave, formed orig-
inally, I presume, by the action of the river, had been used for
centuries as a quarry. The Germans were quick to take ad-
vantage of its safety, for it had a roof of many feet of solid
rock. They had blocked up the entrance, all save a small
trench, and had shored up the roof with heavy timbers. It
was, by far, the safest place we ever had, and could easily
shelter a battalion. Here "Spike," the Major's orderly, made a
70 MY LITTLE BLACK BOOK [Oct.,
reputation as a cook. His specialty was griddle-cakes; his
griddle, a flattened out tin can; his fire, a can of solidified
alcohol. And as he worked, he sang. He told in his sweet
tenor of the doughboy's sweetheart, "Pretty K-K-K-Katie,
whom he would meet by the g-g-g-garden gate." And he
lilted another doggerel, which ran :
The rain rains on the flowers and makes them beautiful,
Why doesn't a cloud burst on the Ghap-e-lain?
Though this sector was known as a "quiet" one, and was,
in fact, inactive in the sense that there was no driving, yet
there was noise enough both from shelling and bombing. The
village below us was shelled regularly. In this village, away
underground in the subcellar of a ruined palace, we had our
dressing-station. It was so far down that no shell could reach
it. By the light of a candle one of the ambulance drivers was
writing home. Suddenly the thought struck him that the
folks at home might like to know what a "cootie" really looked
like, so he put a drop of candle grease on the piece of writing
paper, and, capturing without much difficulty one of his own
brand, he "interned" it in the candle grease. But, I suppose,
the censor removed it as likely to give dangerous information
or comfort to the enemy.
In spite of the shellfire to which the village was subjected,
our boys were continually prowling about it looking for souve-
nirs. The palace was the especial object of their curiosity.
They were continually "salvaging" things, for our men had no
more respect for property rights than any other soldiers. Any-
thing which did not have its owner sitting on it could be, nay,
should be, salvaged. In our cave, one day, I discovered a stack
of French magazines, evidently salvaged from the village.
Some were being devoured when I entered, and it seemed as if
everyone who came in got immediately interested in French
literature. But it was not till some remarked on the badness
of the French people, their looseness and general immorality,
that it occurred to me to find out what the magazines were.
And then I told these "clean-minded" Americans what I
thought of them! I noticed that they hadn't missed a page;
and one regretted his ignorance of French ! Too many of our
soldiers brought back from France the same impressions
of France and its people which they carried over. France, to
1921.] MV LITTLE BLACK BOOK 71
them, was "Gay Paree," and they did their best to justify their
preconceptions. Handicapped by a lack of knowledge of lan-
guage and customs, our men had practically no chance to meet
or know the decent class of French people. The vast majority
of the members of the A. E. F. never got even close to a large
French city.
There came to us one day an aviator, sent up for observa-
tion with the infantry from the ground. A splendid chap,
who took in good part our abuse. After being bombed a few
times and witnessing the way we were harassed by enemy
planes (having no help from any planes of our own) he under-
stood our viewpoint. Nothing destroys morale quicker than
aerial activity on the part of the enemy. There are many
things, even in war, far more pleasant than being bombed, or
fired upon by the machine gun of an aeroplane. Besides gain-
ing experience, he gained his first cootie, which, he main-
tained, would make him the envy of the entire squadron. One
would think he had been decorated, he was so proud.
All the occupants of the cave were asleep in various keys
and pitches save the Adjutant (on duty) and myself. We sat
at the table drinking our K. of C. bouillon by the flickering
light of a candle. I had just finished a letter home, and one
to the mother of my orderly, to tell her that her boy was well
and to let her know what help he had given me during the
past few weeks.
"Joe," I said, "this little War can stop anytime, as far
as I'm concerned. I've had more than enough."
"Chaplain," he answered, putting down his tin cup,
"them's my sentiments exactly. I'm forced to agree with you
in spite of the fact that I'm a Methodist. I'm ready to demo-
bilize right this minute."
"This morning," I continued, "I went up and buried a boy
near G Company's P. C. Then I took a stroll around the line.
Believe me, it gave me the blues. The old crowd is practically
gone. Of course, there are some left, but not many. I ran
into 'Slim,' and he was crabbing because when he asked the
Doctor what to do for a sore on his leg, he was told 'not to
sleep on the wet ground and not to carry any sidearms.' The
line is just a series of strong points; no continuous trench. I
stopped at each group of riflemen or automatic gun team.
Some took me for a waterboy; one crowd thought I was a run-
72 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS [Oct.,
ner. All I could think of was the old crowd. They knew me,
and I knew them. I heard one chap ask his neighbor, 'who's
the gink?' He was told that the 'gink' might be a Chaplain.
Which brought the query, 'What in blazes (I'm using
synonyms) is a Chaplain?' I felt like a stranger in my own
home. When we started, this outfit was over sixty per cent.
Catholic; now its practically Mormon except you."
"No sir, Chaplain, I'm no Mormon! I sure do wish I was
back with the little wife now. Someone was saying today that
only three of our original officers haven't been hit or gassed."
"Yes, and you three are like the rest of us, half crazy,"
I answered.
"Chaplain, you better go lie down. I'm the only sane man
around here, and now I'm going to write home and tell the
wife about our crazy priest."
"All right," I answered, making for my bunk, "but don't
forget to tell her I went crazy trying to keep you straight."
ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS.
BY ANNA MCCLURE SHOLL.
WHERE Sierra Morena's crags soar high
Through cloudless air, no sharper to his gaze
Than Carmel's steep he passed the soundless days
In Pegnuela; shaping towards the sky
His sacred pilgrimage. Obscure nights lie
Upon that path where scarcely he can raise
Tired eyes to God; though yet his heart will praise
Love's mystery the willingness to die.
The sun shines gold upon the convent floor
There is a greater Sun the night descends
Blacker the soul's night on her endless quest!
The Spanish Spring sweeps through an open door
All blossom-perfumed; but no solace lends.
Time is no more where his strong heart would rest.
THE MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW.
BY JOHN A. RYAN, D.D.
HE State performs its functions by means of law.
Through the direct or indirect authorization of
law, taxes are collected, public money is ex-
pended, public services, such as the post office,
the public schools, the department of justice, the
fire department, the police department, are administered, and
the various regulatory measures affecting individuals and as-
sociations are ordained and enforced. It is law that warrants
and supports every civil act performed by any official in any
of the three great departments of government, the executive,
the legislative and the judiciary. When a public official pro-
ceeds without the authorization of law or exceeds the scope of
the law, his action has no civil validity.
The authority of the State to make laws is derived from
God. 1 He has endowed men with such qualities and needs that
they cannot live reasonable lives without the State. Therefore,
He wishes the State to exist and to function in such a way as to
attain this end, to promote man's temporal welfare. It does so
by means of law. Hence, civil law is genuine moral law, not
merely a kind of legal or physical coercion. It binds in con-
science. Herein it differs from the rules of a social club. The
latter do not produce moral obligation. Even though they
should be disregarded to such an extent as to destroy the club,
its members would suffer no vital injury. On the other hand,
men are deprived of a necessary means to human life and
development when there is general disobedience of the laws
of the State. The moral law which binds men to live reason-
able lives, obliges them to adopt one of the essential means
to this end, that is, to maintain the State and to obey its laws.
Such is the rational basis of the doctrine laid down in Holy
Scripture, and taught without variation by the Catholic
Church. According to this doctrine, the civil law binds in
conscience, as such; not because it includes, nor only in so far
as it includes, natural, or supernatural, or ecclesiastical law. 2
1 Cf. Pope Leo XIII., The Christian Constitution of Slates.
*Cf. Bouquillon, Theologia Moralis Fundamentalis, no. 223.
74 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
No declaration of any Church authority can be cited in favor
of the contrary opinion. A few individual writers have held
it, but the overwhelming majority of theologians teach that
the civil law is morally binding on its own account, because
of the moral authority possessed by the State. 3
Of course, all ethically valid civil laws must be in har-
mony with the moral law of nature. A statute which is con-
trary to a precept of the natural law, has no moral force, how-
ever solemnly it may have been enacted, or formidably sanc-
tioned, or vigorously enforced. Such an enactment is not
law at all, but, as St. Thomas calls it, "a species of violence."
Indeed, all civil law may properly be regarded as either a
reaffirmation of the natural law, or as an application of its
precepts, principles or derived conclusions. 4 Of the former
kind are the statutes forbidding theft, assault and adultery.
To the latter class belong the laws which determine individual
property rights and prescribe the imposition and collection of
taxes, and ordinances for the regulation of traffic on streets
and roads. The natural law dictates that men should acquire
and use external goods with a just regard to the rights of their
fellows, but it does not inform them just how this requirement
is to be observed and applied in particular cases. In virtue of
the natural law, men are obliged to maintain the Government,
but there is no specific precept requiring this end to be at-
tained through a certain form of taxation. We are enjoined
by the natural law to refrain from inflicting physical injury
upon the neighbor in our common use of the public streets,
as well as in other relations, but we are not told whether the
speed limit should be ten miles an hour or twenty. In all
such cases, the general provisions and precepts of the natural
law stand in need of specific and precise determination by the
positive law. Civil statutes for this purpose derive their im-
mediate moral authority and validity from the State itself.
Their binding force cannot come directly from the natural
law, since the latter is so general in its provisions that other
specific determinations, for example, other property regula-
8 The greatest authority on law among Catholic theologians, Francisco Suarez,
S.J., declares that this is the "common opinion of Catholics." His own defence of the
proposition is summed up In three declarations : the civil legislator makes laws as the
minister of God; the legislator is required by the Divine and natural law to pass
laws; this power and its exercise are necessary for the common good. De Legibus,
lib. iii., cap. 21.
* Cf. Cronln, The Science of Ethics, II., pp. 599, GOO.
1921.] MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW 75
tions and traffic regulations, might be equally in harmony
with these general provisions. Natural law cannot oblige men
to comply with its general provisions in a particular way,
when another way would be equally efficacious. The func-
tion of prescribing one method rather than another belongs
to the State. Its right to make such a prescription, flows from
the fact that it is the authorized and the only competent
agency to determine and enforce necessary and uniform
methods of carrying into effect the general principles of the
natural law in all such matters. The obligation of the citizen
to observe these methods and regulations, is based ultimately
on the natural law, but its immediate and formal basis is the
State. 5
The objection might be raised that all the foregoing in-
stances and the reasoning that they are intended to illustrate,
refer only to civil ordinances which are necessary. The moral
obligation to obey such statutes is as clear as the obligation
to maintain an effective political organization. In both cases
we can trace the compelling and obligatory influence of the
natural law. Its precepts require men to deal justly and char-
itably with one another, and to make and obey whatever civil
regulations are necessary to attain this end. But the case
seems to be different with civil statutes, which prescribe and
administer things that are merely useful. Government regu-
lation of street traffic is necessary, but government ownership
of railroads is not necessary. Whence comes the moral obli-
gation upon the citizens to obey the law which forbids them to
own a railroad?
The answer is that the obligation is derived ultimately
from the natural law, precisely as in the case of the traffic
ordinance. Just as the State has the authority to prescribe one
maximum rate of speed rather than another, so it has the
right to determine that goods and passengers shall be carried
by the Government rather than by private corporations. In
8 It is in this sense that St. Thomas speaks of civil law as a "participation in
the eternal and natural law." Suarez draws the distinction clearly beween a civil
law conceived as obligatory because and when it contains or applies a specific pre-
cept of the natural law, or a necessary conclusion therefrom, and a civil law, or
the whole body of civil law, conceived as obligatory because it is based on the
general principle of the natural law which requires civil ordinances to be obeyed. He
declares that if those who deny that the civil law binds in conscience, hold to the
latter instead of the former conception, the dispute is perhaps merely one of lan-
guage. They agree with him in principle. Idem., loc. cit.
76 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
both cases the end is the common welfare. In both cases the
State must adopt some means to attain this end. In each case
more than one means would be adequate. Some speed limit
must be prescribed, but it need not be fifteen miles per hour
rather than twenty. As compared with the latter, the former
is merely useful, and vice versa. The case of the railroads is
exactly parallel. They are necessary for the common welfare.
They can attain this end substantially under either private or
public ownership. The issue between the two methods is
merely one of utility, and the State is not clearly obliged to
choose one rather than the other. But it must authorize some
one of the two. When it adopts Government ownership, its
action is morally binding on the citizens for the same reason
that makes its traffic regulations morally binding. That is, it is
determining a method of promoting the common good, in
virtue of its authority as the only competent determinant of
such matters. The obligation of the citizens to accept the
determination actually made, i. e. t Government ownership,
comes immediately from the authority of the State, but ulti-
mately from that principle of the natural law which dictates
that men should maintain an effectively functioning political
organization.
Individual citizens may think, and their opinion may be
correct, that Government ownership of railroads is less useful,
less conducive to the common good, than private ownership.
Nevertheless, they are morally obliged to accept the former for
the sake of that same common good. Their refusal to do so
would cause greater injury to the community than the con-
tinuation of and their acquiescence in the duly established
arrangement. It would imply that a group of individuals may
at any time reject any civil ordinance with which they do not
agree. The contradiction is obvious between this position and
the requirements of right reason, of the natural law, of the
common good, and of individual welfare.
The sum of the matter is that every law enacted by a legit-
imate government, and not contrary to any provision of the
natural law, whether its prescriptions are evidently necessary
or merely useful, is in some degree morally binding on the
citizens. The fundamental reason is the necessity, according
to the Divine plan, of an effectively functioning State for
human welfare.
1921.] MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW 77
It has just been said that every genuine civil enactment is
morally binding "in some degree." This phrase brings up for
consideration certain modifications, or qualifications, of the
general principle. It suggests these questions: Do civil laws
bind under pain of mortal sin? Does their obligatory char-
acter depend upon the will of the legislator? Are some civil
statutes "purely penal?" Does the validity of civil laws de-
pend upon their acceptance by the people?
To the first of these questions the answer of the great
majority of Catholic writers is in the affirmative. The reason
is tersely stated by Suarez: "Inasmuch as civil law binds in
conscience, it necessarily produces a degree of obligation pro-
portionate to its subject matter; if the latter is of grave im-
portance, the obligation of obeying the law will likewise be
grave." 6 Generally speaking, the person who violates a civil
statute which prescribes some action of great importance for
the commonwealth, is guilty of mortal sin. This proposition
can be logically rejected only on the assumption that no civil
law can be of great importance.
Such is the obligatory force of a momentous law, con-
sidered in itself. But we are confronted with the second ques-
tion raised above. Does the obligation depend upon the will
of the legislator? It is the unanimous, or practically unan-
imous, teaching of Catholic authorities that the intention of
creating a moral obligation is of the essence of law; so that, a
prescription by legislators who positively and explicitly in-
tended that it should not bind in conscience, would not be a
true law. It would be merely a direction, a counsel, or an ex-
pression of legislative preference. If the existence of moral
obligation depends upon the will of the legislator, the same
dependence must logically be predicated of the degree of obli-
gation. Hence, the general opinion among Catholic moral
theologians is that the legislator has the authority to render
grave laws only slightly obligatory. 7 That is, a law which of
itself would bind under pain of mortal sin, brings upon the
transgressor merely venial guilt when this is the desire and
intention of the legislator.
In order that a civil law should become obligatory to a
grave degree two conditions are, therefore, necessary: first,
that the subject matter be of great importance; second, that the
8 Op cit., lib. III., cap. 24, no. 2. T Cf. Suarez, op. cit., lib. ill., cap. 27.
78 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
legislator should intend the law to have this effect in the forum
of conscience. Either of these conditions lacking, the law
binds only under pain of venial sin. If the subject matter is
of slight importance, the legislator cannot perform the inher-
ently contradictory feat of making the obligation grave; if the
legislator does not wish a gravely important law to bind under
pain of mortal sin, it will not be obligatory in this degree.
A very important question arises here concerning the form
which the legislator's intention must take in order to make an
obligation slight which, from the nature of the subject matter,
would be grave. Suppose he does not think about moral ob-
ligation at all, but merely has in mind the enactment of a law.
In that case the law will bind in conscience, and the degree of
the obligation will be determined by the importance of the sub-
ject matter. This is the normal effect of a true law, and it is
always produced, so long as it is not positively excluded by the
intention of the legislator. Suppose that the legislator ex-
plicitly desires that the law should be obligatory, but does not
think about the degree of obligation. As in the former case,
the obligation will be determined by the subject matter. If
the latter is gravely important, the law will be gravely oblig-
atory. Therefore, a civil law of great importance always
binds under pain of mortal sin, unless the legislator forms a
positive intention to the contrary. A merely negative attitude
toward the obligation will have no effect upon the obligation. 8
The opponents of the doctrine that the legislator can
render slight the obligation of a grave law, contend that the
degree of binding force carried by a civil law depends exclus-
ively upon the subject matter. The legislator's power is
merely that of making or not making the statute. 9 This argu-
ment would lead logically to the conclusion that the existence
of any obligation at all is entirely independent of the will of
the legislator. Should the members of a legislative body ex-
plicitly will that their enactments should not be binding in
conscience, this reservation would be without effect. Suarez
declares that such an enactment is not a true law; but this
seems to be mostly a question of language.
Consider an ordinance which is clearly necessary for the
common good, as that which regulates the speed of vehicles.
Does not the very necessity of this measure make it binding
8 O/. Suarez, loc. cit. Cf. Suarez, ibidem.
1921.] MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW 79
in conscience? It is true that a different law might be equally
adapted to meet this necessity; and the inference might be
drawn that the citizens who observed the provisions of this
alternative and hypothetical rule would be under no obligation
to obey the existing law. The reply is that the common good
requires the enactment and the observance of one ordinance.
Human welfare is not safeguarded through a kind of private
interpretation by the citizens themselves of what constitutes a
reasonable rule or standard. Now it is the proper and neces-
sary function of the legislators to enact this uniform regula-
tion. Once it has been chosen out of several possible ordi-
nances, it becomes morally binding because of its necessity
for the common good, no matter what the legislators may
think of obligation. It is reasonable and necessary that they
determine the provisions of the law, but it is neither reason-
able nor necessary that they have power to determine the
question of its moral obligation.
Even laws which are not necessary for the common wel-
fare may conceivably be obligatory, against the desires of the
legislators. For the common good may require that a law of
this sort, even though no more useful than the alternative ar-
rangement, be obeyed for the sake of social order. Violations
of it might be detrimental to the public good merely because
they were violations of duly enacted law. In such a situation,
why should the unwillingness of the legislator to impose moral
obligation have any moral effect or significance?
Whatever may be thought of the foregoing argument, the
question whether the legislator has power to render a grave
law only slightly obligatory, has no practical importance if*
modern communities. No legislative body ever thinks of exer-
cising such power. Therefore, modern civil laws dealing with
gravely important matters always produce their normal effect
of binding under pain of mortal sin. 10
The doctrine that the moral obligation of civil law de-
pends to some extent upon the intention of the legislator, is
sometimes made the basis of an extraordinary view of modern
civil legislation. It is nothing less than the conclusion that the
ordinances of practically all modern legislative bodies have
no binding force in conscience. Laws do not bind in con-
science unless the legislator intends them so to bind; now
10 Cf. Meyer, Institutiones Juris Naturalis, II., p. 569.
80 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
contemporary lawmakers cannot have such an intention since
they do not believe in the existence of genuine moral obliga-
tion. Such is the argument. Tanquerey rejects it on the
ground that, whatever may be their general and theoretical
attitude toward the reality of moral obligation, modern legis-
lators do desire their enactments to have the utmost possible
force and authority; hence, they implicitly intend them to be
morally binding. 11 Bouquillon takes a similar position, de-
claring that the legislator need not expressly intend to impose
an obligation in conscience, that it is sufficient for him to
have the intention of issuing a genuine command. 12 Lehmkuhl
holds the same view as Tanquerey and Bouquillon, and points
out that if explicit intention to bind the conscience were indis-
pensable, the laws enacted by pagan rulers would be without
obligatory force, which is surely contrary to the teaching of
Holy Scripture. 13 Suarez declares that the design of the legis-
lator to make a true law suffices, and that the formal intention
to bind in conscience is not necessary. He notes that legis-
lators, particularly unbelievers, rarely advert to the question
of moral obligation. 14 Indeed, it seems to be the general
opinion of the moral theologians that an implicit intention
suffices; that is, the intention that the enactment should have
all the moral authority which attaches to a genuine law.
This conclusion seems to be entirely consistent with the
"necessity of intention" doctrine, as regards two classes of
lawmakers who have no explicit desire to bind in conscience;
namely, those who believe that civil law is morally obligatory,
but do not advert to this fact at the moment of legislating, and
those who theoretically disbelieve in genuine moral obliga-
tion, but who are willing that, if perchance it does exist, it
should attach to their ordinances. In the minds of both these
classes, there is inherent a true implicit intention to make the
law binding in conscience.
As regards those lawmakers who are firmly persuaded
that civil laws are not obligatory in the proper sense, for ex-
ample, those who, with the English jurist, John Austin, reduce
the moral obligation of legal statutes to the evil chance of in-
curring the penalty for violation it is not clear that there
11 Theologia Moralis Fundamentalis, no. 343.
12 Theologia Moralis Fundamentalis, no. 223.
13 Theologia Moralis, I., no. 211.
14 Op. cit., lib. iii., cap. 27, no. 1.
1921.] MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW 81
exists even an implicit intention to produce moral obligation. 15
Tanquerey contends for the reality of such an intention on
the ground that the legislator desires his laws to exercise all
possible compelling force upon the will of the citizens, and,
therefore, is quite willing that the latter should feel bound in
conscience. Nevertheless, this is not an implicit intention to
impose objective moral obligation. It does not recognize the
objective bond which is the essence of genuine obligation, the
bond between the will of the lawgiver and the will of the law
receiver. The only thing covered by such an intention is the
state of mind of the citizen. That this should be affected by a
persuasion of obligation, the lawmaker is perfectly willing;
that the objective moral bond constituting obligation should
extend from his will to the will of the citizen, the lawmaker
has not even an implicit intention, for he totally rejects the
possibility of such a bond. His intention comprises only a
subjective condition, not an objective relation. It is hard to
see how such legislators can have even an implicit intention,
either to make a true law, or to impose moral obligation.
As a matter of fact, it is very doubtful that many contem-
porary legislators deny to civil laws the possibility of moral
obligation in the absolute and comprehensive manner sup-
posed in the preceding paragraph. Probably, the great major-
ity of them accept, at least in some vague way, the existence, or
at any rate the possibility, of a juristic moral bond between
law giver and law receiver. This is a sufficient basis for an
implicit intention to bind in conscience. Therefore, the gen-
eral opinion of moral theologians that modern civil laws bind
in conscience, is consistent with their teaching that this moral
force is in some degree dependent upon the will of the legis-
lator. To be sure, the case for the moral obligation of contem-
porary laws becomes clearer and simpler if we accept the
theory that their obligatory character is independent of the
legislator's will, and is inherent in the laws themselves.
The third question raised above concerns those laws which
jurists and theologians call "purely penal," or "merely penal,"
or "disjunctive." They are defined as laws which oblige the
citizen either to obey them or to accept the penalty appointed
for their violation. The obligation is not absolute, but con-
ditional. If the citizen is ready to submit to the penalty, he
16 Cf. Sia^e?, Questions of Moral Theology, pp. 279-288.
voju cxiv, 6
82 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
can licitly disobey the provisions of the law. Generally speak-
ing, however, he is not bound in conscience to undergo the
penalty until it has been formally imposed by the court. He
is not obliged to give himself up, nor to forego his civil right
of legal defence.
The great majority of moral theologians hold that the
legislator has authority to enact laws of this sort. In the first
place, it is contended that the object of the law and the com-
mon good may sometimes be more effectively promoted by a
statute which leaves the citizen free to disobey the law and
become morally liable to the penalty, than by one which gives
no such choice, but entails moral guilt every time it is violated.
Such are laws which men transgress with uncommon fre-
quency, but whose object can be adequately attained through
the infliction of penalties upon their violators. A purely penal
law is in some sense a concession to human weakness. The
second reason given by the theologians to support the proposi-
tion under consideration, is the legislator's power over the
obligatory character of his enactments. Just as he can deter-
mine that a gravely important law shall bind only under pain
of venial sin, so he can make the obligation of certain laws dis-
junctive. That is, he may attach the obligation either to the
observance of the law or to the acceptance of the penalty, so
that the citizen has the option of being bound to the latter
instead of the former.
It is to be observed that a purely penal law must carry
some obligation. The legislator cannot enact a statute which
would bind the citizen neither to obey its provisions nor to
accept its penalties. 16 Such an enactment would not be a true
law, inasmuch as it would lack an essential element, namely,
moral binding force. Hence, the legislator must have at least
the implicit intention of morally obliging the citizen to accept
the penalty in case of violation.
It seems, however, that the practical obligation of a purely
penal law is attenuated almost to the vanishing point. If the
violator of the law is not obliged to make known his trans-
gression, nor to waive his legal right of defence, his duty of
"accepting the penalty" is merely that of submitting to the
sentence of the court. That is, he must not break jail nor
evade payment of a fine. When the offender evades appre-
16 Cf. Suarez, op. cit., lib. iii., cap. 27, no. 3.
1921.] MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW 83
hension, he escapes all moral obligation; when he successfully
contests prosecution, he likewise remains free from moral ac-
countability; when he is convicted, his moral obligation is
merely that of omitting actions from which, in most cases, he
is physically restrained by the sheriff or the policeman. In a
word, the moral obligation of a purely penal law is next to
nothing, its moral sanction, z'. e. t the effectiveness of the moral
element in preventing violations, is practically nothing.
These facts create a strong presumption that the field of
purely penal law is extremely limited. The objective reason
why civil law carries moral obligation is found ultimately in
human welfare. If the law be deprived, or all but deprived, of
its moral element, its efficacy for the promotion of human wel-
fare is greatly, even fatally, weakened. Nevertheless, the as-
sertion is sometimes made that, in our day, all civil laws are
merely penal. Some who use this language, do not mean what
they seem to mean. They wish to assert the theory, sufficiently
discussed above, that modern laws do not bind in conscience,
inasmuch as modern legislators have not the proper intention.
If this contention were sound, civil legislation would not even
rise to the dignity of purely penal enactments; for the latter
do entail some moral obligation. Those who, using the phrase
in its proper sense, declare that all modern civil legislation is
purely penal, are happily neither numerous nor authoritative.
According to the common opinion of moral theologians, the
presumption is always in favor of complete obligation. 17 Like
all other presumptions, this one can be overcome only by posi-
tive facts and arguments. With regard to any particular law,
the burden of proof rests upon him who contends that it is
purely penal.
As commonly given by theologians, there are three tests
by which a civil law may be adjudged purely penal: first, the
declaration of the legislator; second, the attitude of popular
tradition and custom; third, the enactment of a penalty so
severe that it is out of all proportion to the law's importance.
However, the second and third of these criteria are not valid
universally; for the custom may be socially injurious, and the
heavy penalty may be designed to prevent unusual frequency
of violation, not to indicate that the law is to be regarded as
purely penal.
" Cf. Tanquerey, op. cit., no. 347.
84 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
Bouquillon adds another restriction which seems to be
fundamental. It is that no law can be reasonably regarded as
purely penal unless the burden or penalty attached to its vio-
lation is specifically adapted to attain the end of the law. 18
The penalty must be such as to compensate for the failure of
the law; it may not be merely coercive. Thus, heavy fines
may offset the loss to the public treasury through the non-
observance of tax laws. In such a case, the law might fairly
be interpreted as purely penal. But the imposition of fines
and imprisonment would not adequately achieve the end of a
traffic ordinance, z. e., safeguarding life and property. It is
not easy to controvert this argument.
The final question concerning the degree of obligation at-
taching to civil laws is whether their binding force depends
upon popular acceptance or ratification. At first sight, an
affirmative answer would seem to contradict the general doc-
trine of the foregoing pages, namely, that civil legislation binds
in conscience. However, there is no necessary contradiction;
for civil ordinances might conceivably not attain the complete
character of laws until they had been ratified by the people.
In that supposition, the people would constitute an essential
part of the legislative authority. The obligation of individual
citizens to obey a statute, would begin when the latter had been
formally accepted by the people as a whole. Only then would
"the will of the legislator" have become fully manifest and
formally effective.
Suarez informs us that in his time this was the commonly
held opinion of the jurists. 19 He cites eight or ten important
names, and admits that their view seems to have been antic-
ipated by Aristotle. Their argument was briefly as follows:
In order to make binding laws, the legislator must have both
the authority and the will. In fact, he has neither. That he
lacks moral power to legislate validly without the people's
consent, is shown by the fact that his authority to govern and
to make any laws at all is derived from the people; and they
have given him legislative authority, on condition that his ordi-
nances shall become binding only when accepted by the people.
That this condition is attached to the grant of authority, is
evident from the "most ancient usage of the Roman people,"
and from the fact that popular acceptation is the best indica-
18 Op. cit., p. 353. " Op. cit., lib. ill., cap. 19, no. 7.
1921.] MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW 85
tion that a law really promotes the common good, just as the
contrary attitude of the people proves the law to be socially
harmful and thus without validity. The will to make binding
laws without the consent of the people is wanting to the legis-
lator because he cannot have a genuine intention of doing
something for which he lacks authority.
In passing, it is worthy of note that these ultra-democratic
jurists all wrote before the beginning of the seventeenth cen-
tury. This is the period when Catholic teaching supported
political absolutism and political oppression generally, accord-
ing to the perverted notions that still pass in many quarters
as history. When Major, who is one of the writers cited by
Suarez, declared that the community is superior to the prince
in all things that pertain to sovereignty, he enunciated a doc-
trine that even now gives many of us a disagreeable shock
when it falls upon our ears in such a modernized version as
"the people are the masters, the public official is their servant."
It is likewise noteworthy that in support of their theory of
popular acceptance of laws, these writers appealed to a prin-
ciple which no one disputed in their day, namely, that rulers
and legislators derive their authority from the people. The
inference drawn from this principle by the jurists, was not ad-
mitted by the moral theologians, but the principle itself was
universally received.
Generally and per se, popular acceptance is not necessary
for the validity of a civil law. Such is the unanimous teaching
of the moral theologians. As stated by Suarez, the following
are the main reasons which support this principle: 20 In every
State that is not a pure democracy, the people have trans-
ferred supreme political power to the rulers and legislators,
and have not retained the right of accepting or rejecting legis-
lation. Secondly, the authority to legislate would be plainly
futile if the people were morally free to obey or not to obey.
Thirdly, usage shows that laws are held to be binding as soon
as they have been regularly enacted and promulgated. In
short, civil laws are obligatory without popular ratification,
on account of the original grant of power to the rulers, on ac-
count of universal custom, and because this is necessary for the
common good. It is not possible to overthrow this argument.
The general principle is subject, however, to certain qual-
2 Op. cit., lib. ill., cap. 19, no. 7.
86 MORAL OBLIGATION OF CIVIL LAW [Oct.,
ifications and exceptions. Suarez notes that popular accept-
ance of the law is essential to its binding force when the
people have attached that condition to the grant of legislative
power. In the kingdom of Aragonia (a part of mediaeval and
benighted Spain, be it noted!), he says the laws of the mon-
arch do not become binding until they are ratified in public
assemblies. On the same principle, certain enactments of
legislative bodies in Switzerland, the United States and Aus-
tralasia obtain the full force of law only when they have been
approved by a popular referendum. Even in these States, the
great majority of laws are recognized as valid as soon as they
have been promulgated by the supreme legislative authority.
In the second place, Suarez points out that when a law is
very frequently disregarded by the greater part of the people,
the legislator may, through tacit consent, permit the law to be
deprived of binding force. However, this is not an instance
of direct popular authority over the law, but rather of revoca-
tion by the legislator. His tacit repeal of the law is, indeed,
occasioned by popular refusal to accept. In the third place,
the law does not bind if it is not just, for an unjust law is no
law at all. Fourthly, a law which is unreasonably burden-
some to the people may sometimes lack obligatory force at
least when it is so harsh that it is tantamount to an unjust en-
actment. Finally, when the majority of the people disregard
the law to such an extent and in such a way that its observance
by a minority becomes detrimental to the State, it ceases to
bind the individual citizen.
To sum up : The Catholic Church as well as natural rea-
son teach that civil law binds in conscience. The ultimate
basis of this obligation is the natural law; the immediate basis
is the authority of the State. Civil laws of grave importance
are gravely obligatory, unless the legislator formally intends
their binding force to be slight. The general teaching of
moral theologians is that a law is not binding without at least
the implicit intention of the legislator. Some civil laws may
be purely penal, but their number is probably small. In gen-
eral, civil laws are binding without popular ratification.
GOLD.
BY SISTER M. MONICA.
CONQUISTADORES,
Say, are ye men, or gorgeous trailing shadows?
Riding gaily past in your creaking leathern saddles
Following the lure, the lure of El Dorado?
Crouching here, I heard your bold joyous jesting,
Heard your rich, sweet voices, the languid Spanish cadence,
Caught the dark eye flashing glints of future gold
Of El Dorado.
Then I raised my head, stood straight, looking and laughing
Daughter of the Chibchas, with blood of the proud caciques;
I, leaning at the pool, with the sleek water-skins on my shoulders,
Here in the amber sunset, laughed, and clapped my hands.
O Conquistadores that ride for El Dorado,
O it was I that missed not the glance you threw as you passed me,
The sudden spasm of thirst that cut across your vision,
The old, old call of beauty that brings a man back to the heart-
smoke.
Throbbed an instant between us the old primeval message
From ye to me whose accents are mute to one another.
Swift and light as the rainbow, when morning strikes the cataract,
Throbbed it, and was gone.
One turned his head and looked back as his horse galloped
forw r ard,
Down the wind broke his voice. Now falls the night and silence.
Come back, O come back, with your clanking spurs, O Adelan-
tados,
There is no gold.
Believe not the tales the subtle old cacique told ye.
There is no El Dorado out in the tangled selvas;
Only the slime and the ooze and bleaching bones in the darkness,
And wandering wraiths of your forefathers long disappointed
before you.
Noon blazes out in the splendid heat and over the abyss curl the
waters ;
Into the mist the cockatoos plunge, like living arrows, shrieking,
And death's grim talons await you.
88 GOLD [Oct.,
Last night ye chaffed and drank by the dying embers in moonlight.
O it was I that stole out in the long, green dark of the cedars.
You think the Chibcha girl knows naught but the tongue of her
mother;
But the speech of pale bronzed faces softly aglow in the firelight
Sings, sings to the heart.
At dawn, when rose splashed the east, and all the world was
expectant,
Crouching figures I watched, that knelt on the grass where the
dew dripped,
Tall and lustrous stood one with arms high upraised before you,
Lifting a little white disk shot through by a ray of sunlight,
Lifting a shining cup to the infinite blue above you.
Murmuring followed of voices.
And, oh, it was then that I quivered beneath the touch of the
Spirit
The Spirit that cries to me all day long from the dumb lips of
mountains,
And breathes with the tender fragrance of earth looking up after
rain,
And beckons me out of the distance of indeterminate llanos
Spirit Whose echo the world is, spoke to me, and I answered.
O Conquistadores, yourselves have El Dorado.
Yours is the land that is paved with gold and threaded with pearl-
disks.
Here ye find neither the gold ye can give nor the gold that ye
covet.
Come back on your trail, on your trail of defeat, O Adelantados,
Glowing and mettled with hope, O joyous Conquistadores,
Give to us of your gold, give to the Chibcha cacique,
Give of the gold that I saw gleaming there around your disk and
your chalice.
Still ye ride on and on, and the pale, thin distance enfolds you,
Night and the jaguar, hyena-hunger, thrust of the javelin,
Lure you on to the golden mirage, the mirage of your dreams.
Ah, are ye men, or gorgeous trailing shadows,
Conquistadores?
THE THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY.
BY MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
HIS year of Our Lord 1921 has been remarkable
for important meetings and conferences of men
and women throughout Christendom to consider,
and seek the solution of, vast and tremendously
important problems affecting the welfare of
humanity. Without attempting to catalogue these confer-
ences, their scope may be indicated by recalling the assem-
bling of the League of Nations, the many meetings of the
Supreme Council of the Entente Premiers, the Anglo-Irish
Conference, the signing of the American-German Treaty of
Peace, the Russian-American Famine Relief Agreement, and
the limitation of armaments Conference, which is to be held in
Washington next month. Yet it may be doubted whether any
of these momentous events will prove to be more truly im-
portant or more thoroughly practical than the world-wide con-
ventions of the Third Order of St. Francis, marking the seventh
hundredth anniversary of the founding of the Third Order of
Penance. These conventions have been held throughout this
year, the American convention, meeting this month in Chi-
cago, being the first national Tertiary Convention ever held in
the United States.
The late William T. Stead, that eccentric, yet sincere
social reformer whose work in London gained the approbation
of Cardinal Manning, created a somewhat violent though eva-
nescent sensation during his lifetime by writing a book en-
titled, // Christ Came to Chicago. Against the swirling back-
ground of Chicago's incredibly strenuous industrialism and
commercialism, its shrieking uproar and crowded millions of
hurrying and contending men and women, the English pub-
licist placed his picture of Our Lord the Redeemer of Man-
kind. He sought to prove to Christ's followers the necessity of
exciting themselves more earnestly and efficiently to follow
the example of their Master, Who went about doing good.
Stead's literary device had the perfervid and exaggerated em-
phasis that apparently is inseparable from the attempts of
90 THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY [Oct.,
our Protestant brothers (self-isolated as they are from the
consolations and the assurances of the sacramental view of
life) to apply the teachings and example of Our Lord to the
solution of modern day problems; but it is withal a genuine
cry from the heart and from the soul, a cry that means : "Help,
Lord, or we perish."
If Stead could have lived to be present in Chicago this
month when the followers of that most devoted follower of
Christ meet in the great inland city of the New World, he
would know that not only the example and the spirit of St.
Francis of Assisi, but the example and spirit, yes, and the
actual Presence, of Jesus Christ are there, doing the same
work that He came to do among men in Galilee. For in Chi-
cago, as in Rome, in London, in Quebec and wherever the Ter-
tiaries have met, the convention of the Third Order of St.
Francis means a vast, immediate and enduring application of
the one, true, essential, and permanent reform of the evils
now so grievously afflicting the world : a reform referred to in
the following wonderful passage of the Pastoral Letter issued
by the Hierarchy of the United States two years ago:
One true reform the world has known. It was effected,
not by force, agitation or theory, but by a Life in which the
perfect ideal was visibly realized, becoming the "light of
men.'* That light has not grown dim with the passing of
time. Men have turned their eyes away from it; even His
followers have strayed from its pathway; but the truth and
the life of Jesus Christ are real and clear today for all who
are willing to see. There is no other name under heaven
whereby the world can be saved.
Through the Gospel of Jesus and His living example,
mankind learned the meaning, and received the blessing, of
liberty. In His person was shown the excellence and true
dignity of human nature, wherein human rights have their
centre. In His dealings with them, justice and mercy, sym-
pathy and courage, pity for weakness and rebuke for hollow
pretence, were perfectly blended. Having fulfilled the law,
He gave to His followers a new commandment. Having
loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the
end. And since He came that they might have life and have
it more abundantly, He gave it to them through His death.
The essential mission of the Third Order of St. Francis
is to carry out, under Christ, this work of reform instituted
1921.] THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY 91
by Christ: and to carry it out, so far as the ability is given
them to do so, in His own way: by living it: by doing the
work not merely writing and talking about it, theorizing or
dreaming about it, still less, by leaving it to others to do.
There are today, it is estimated, about two and a half mil-
lion members of the Third Order of St. Francis spread all over
the world. There exist in almost all civilized languages nu-
merous Franciscan periodicals, widely circulated, even beyond
the membership of the Order. This estimate of membership
was made some years before the War, and before the impetus
given the Franciscan movement by the preparations for and
carrying on of the world-wide celebrations of the seven hun-
dredth anniversary of the Order. While, no doubt, the War
made inroads upon the membership in many countries, on the
other hand, it is probable that the new enthusiasm and interest
created by this year's manifestation of the vitality and practi-
cability of the Franciscan spirit, will result in its vast increase.
The prophetic cry of St. Francis, fulfilled throughout seven
centuries, is probably destined to an even greater realization :
I hear in my ears the sound of the tongues of all the
nations who shall come unto us: Frenchmen, Spaniards,
Germans, Englishmen. The Lord will make of us a great
people, even unto the ends of the earth.
The United States of America were undreamed of, even by
the prophets, when St. Francis spake these words, but from
the blood of Frenchmen, Spaniards, Germans, Englishmen,
and most of the other races and nations of the earth we of
the United States have sprung, and, from that very fact, the
Franciscan movement with us possesses a most Franciscan,
because universal and truly Catholic, character which must
delight "the little poor man" today in Paradise.
Historical evidence seems to deny the popular and prev-
alent view that the Third Order of St. Francis was the oldest
of all third orders for "there were somewhat similar institu-
tions in certain monastic orders in the twelfth century, and a
third order properly so-called among the Humiliati, confirmed,
together with its rule, by Innocent III. in 1201. 5>1 Yet, un-
doubtedly, it has been, and still is, the best known, the most
widely distributed of all third orders, and the one with the
greatest influence. While one school of Franciscan students
1 Catholic Encyclopedia, Vol. XIV., p. 641.
92 THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY [Oct.,
claim that the secular third order is a survival of the original
ideal of St. Francis, a lay-confraternity of penitents; and while,
according to others, the name of St. Francis became attached
to pre-existing penitential lay-confraternities without having
any special connection with or influence on them, the more
authoritative Catholic teachers on the subject describe the
origin of the Order as directly and consciously due to the
Seraphic Father.
That origin was the living example of St. Francis, as he
tramped the hills and vales of Umbria, during those crowded
years after that epochal year, 1207, when Messer Pietro di
Bernardone stood with his naked son, so recently the coxcomb
and most sprightly gallant of the prodigals of Assisi, before
the Bishop and received back the clothes of scarlet and fine
linen and the money with which he had gladly supported that
son's frivolities, until, in 1230, Francis, stricken in hands and
feet and side with the sacred wounds of Christ, died singing
the Psalm of David. His preaching, and the example and
preaching of his first disciples, exercised such a powerful at-
traction on the people that many married men and women de-
sired to join the First Order of Friars or the Second Order of
Nuns that had gathered around the incomparable Lady Clare.
This being incompatible with their state of life, St. Francis
devised a middle way, and, assisted by his friend and pro-
tector, Cardinal Ugolino, later Pope Gregory IX., he com-
posed and gave these men and women of the world a rule ani-
mated by the Franciscan spirit.
It was probably at Florence that the Third Order was first
introduced, and 1221 was most probably the earliest date of
the institution of the Tertiaries. The original rule prescribed
simplicity in dress, a good deal of fasting and abstinence, the
recitation of the canonical office of the Church or other prayers
instead, confession and Communion thrice a year; it forbid
the carrying of arms or the taking of solemn oaths without
necessity a commandment which accomplished wonderful
things in toppling over the more tyrannical powers of feudal-
ism, particularly its obligatory military service, which led to
interminable wars. The brothers and sisters were instructed
to assemble in churches, designated by the ministers of the
Order, to receive religious instruction; they were also to exer-
cise works of charity; all members were to make their last
1921.] THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY 93
wills three months after their reception; when a member died
the whole confraternity was to be present at the funeral and
to pray for the soul of the dead; while other provisions forbid
the reception of heretics or those suspected of heresy in the
Order, and provided disciplinary measures. Pope Nicholas
IV. approved the rule of the Third Order in 1289, which rule,
with the exception of a few points bearing especially on fasts
and abstinence, mitigated by Clement VII. in 1526 and Paul
III. in 1547, remained in vigor till 1883, when Pope Leo XIII.,
himself proud of being a Tertiary, modified the text, adapting
it to the modern state and needs of the Order.
In his History of St. Francis, the Abbe Le Monnier declares
that: "The Third Order may be said to be one of the greatest
efforts ever attempted for introducing more justice among
men. . . . They (the Tertiaries) changed the then existing
order in favor of the weak and humble." The chief source and
instrument of the social power possessed by the feudal nobles
of the early thirteenth century was the exaction of the oath
of fealty and military service from those who sought their
protection or became their clients, or who were in any way
dependent upon them. "In this manner," says Father Cuth-
bert, 2 "the greater part of the people became mere tools of the
nobles, and it is easily understood how such a system could
lend itself to the most crying tyranny and injustice. The noble
could demand the service of his vassal in pursuit of some feud,
however unjust; and, according to the recognized system, the
vassal had no right to refuse. St. Francis, by laying upon his
Tertiaries the precept never to take an oath except in certain
specified cases, and never to bear arms except in defence of the
Church, struck a fatal blow at the entire system. How the
petty tyrants of Italy, where the Order originated, strove at
first to prevent the spreading of the Order, and how, when they
could not succeed in this, they tried to neutralize its effects,
is well told by Le Monnier. They failed, because the con-
science of the people was now against them. The question
was not now one of politics, but of religion. The Rule of the
Order, however, was framed not merely against the feuds and
civic rivalries of the time, but also against the excessive luxury
which characterized the rise of the merchant class, the pro-
genitor of modern industrialism. The Tertiaries lived fru-
2 Catholic Ideals, p. 201.
94 THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY [Oct.,
gaily, and were forbidden to dress beyond what was becoming
to their station in society; and the money thus saved from
luxury was given to the poor. One can but faintly imagine the
difference wrought in society by the widespreading of an
Order founded upon such principles; and we listen without
surprise to the remark of a contemporary writer that it seemed
in many places as though the days of primitive Christianity
had returned."
Not only did the prohibition against carrying arms, as the
Third Order movement extended through Italy, deal a death
blow to the feudal system and to the ever-fighting factions of
Italian municipalities; it resulted also in bringing together on
equal terms as Christian men and women, animated by the
same fraternal spirit, the rich and the poor, nobles and com-
mon people, learned and unlearned, and thus the social classes
were drawn nearer each other, and the ideal of Christian
democracy was advanced. Popes, Bishops, and ecclesiastical
potentates, down through seven centuries, with kings and poets
and peasants, princes and paupers, statesmen and scientists,
soldiers, merchants, artists, authors and teachers, soldiers and
discoverers, men and women of all sorts and conditions have
donned the humble garb of St. Francis and followed him as
he followed Christ.
How far the religious ideal of St. Francis was carried out
by the secular Third Order may be judged by the fact that not
less than a hundred Tertiaries, both men and women, have
been raised to the altars of the Church. Such great names as
those of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, and St. Louis, King of
France, St. Ferdinand, King of Castile, St. Margaret of Cortona,
and Blessed Angela of Foligno, that marvelous mystic, head
the list which is continued to our own day with the name of
Blessed Jean-Baptiste Vianney, the Cure of Ars; while the
names celebrated in history for literature, arts, politics, in-
ventions, great discoveries, are well-nigh interminable.
The Franciscan movement when it was launched was, and
has always continued to be, in those times and places where it
has been active and not passive, a positive social reformation.
Its great mission was, and still is, to work the way of God
among men through human instrumentalities by clutching
and dealing with the actual, burning problems of living men
and women; and to do this by leading "men forward to heaven
1921.] THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY 95
by making the way on earth straighter and more like unto
heaven," as Father Cuthbert writes in the essay quoted above.
It was the adaptation of the rule by Leo XIII. and his vital
interest and belief in the Third Order which gave the first great
impetus to the modern revival of the Tertiaries movement.
Pope Pius X., and after him our Holy Father, Benedict XV.,
maintained the interest and the faith shown by the great Leo,
until the present year brought to a climax the long con-
tinued and widespread efforts to revive the fine flame of Fraii-
ciscanism. Even outside the Church voices have been heard
invoking the name of Francis as though it still had a magic
power over men's minds. His life and his work through the
Third Order have been held up as models in the official liter-
ature of the Salvation Army, the Anglican and Protestant Epis-
copal Churches, and by other religious bodies. A French Cal-
vinist clergyman became a foremost protagonist of Francis-
canism, so that the name of Sabatier is stamped permanently
upon the literature of the movement. And he is but one among
many non-Catholic authors who have glorified the name and
invoked the spirit of St. Francis. In the book issued by the
Salvation Army in England there is the following passage:
"I wish God would let St. Francis come back to us. He is
badly wanted. What a difference one good man makes in a
naughty world! What a lot of us poor, wandering, pleasure-
loving, paltry, proud sinners he is worth! What a leader he
would make ! And wouldn't I like to be the lowest private in
his Salvation Army?"
The present Franciscan movement is a response to the call
of the three last Popes that the Third Order become once again
a great social influence. The same hope is expressed by scores
of the most eminent leaders in the Church throughout the
world, as is evidenced by the great mass of letters and other
messages elicited by the many national congresses that have
been held. At the Limoges Congress, in 1894 the first of the
national congresses of the Third Order the Tertiaries pledged
themselves "to work for the reign of social justice," and reso-
lutions were passed seeking as their object to bring the Third
Order into touch with the actual needs of today. More prac-
tical organization as a means of achieving this object, is in-
sisted upon by those most competent to speak on the subject
of modern Franciscanism.
96 THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY [Oct.,
"Granted that the Third Order as an institution has within
itself the power to save society," says an editorial writer in the
Franciscan Herald, "the question may be not impertinent:
Is the Third Order in this country fitted for the task? We give
it as our measured opinion that it is not at all equipped to
undertake any kind of national work; because it lacks the one
requisite for such work organization. So far as we are able
to judge and we shall be glad to be convicted of error the
influence of the Third Order on national, or even local, condi-
tions is nil. There is not a single reform movement of any
dimensions with which the Third Order, as such, has identified
itself; neither has it launched any undertaking of its own for
the betterment of social or moral conditions in any section of
the country. We are aware that this is an extremely humiliat-
ing, though we hope not damaging, admission. We have made
it merely to impress those whom it may concern with the
paramount importance of organization. If the Order till now
has shown no signs of life, it is because it is as yet a rudis
indigestaque moles a rude and shapless mass. The soul, in-
deed is there the spirit of its Founder; but it cannot function
through the body for lack of the proper organs.
"It is one of the avowed purposes of the coming national
Tertiary convention to give the Order some sort of organiza-
tion. We are glad that those in charge of convention affairs
are alive to the necessity and the opportunity of gathering and
grouping the scattered Tertiary forces; and we hope that they
will be able to impress the assembled delegates with the urgent
need of organization and federation."
That well considered and practical methods of organiza-
tion are required by the Third Order in the United States to
enable it to carry on the great social service mission which
the Holy Father has called upon it to do, is made clear by
another writer for the Franciscan press, who, in referring to a
paper read by Father Cuthbert at the Tertiary Congress at
Manchester, England, in June, writes as follows: "They will
find therein (in Father Cuthbert's address) a confirmation of
what the Franciscan Herald has preached in and out of season
from its very first issue down to the present; to wit, that the
Third Franciscan Order has a twofold purpose, which is com-
prised in the words the Church applies to St. Francis: Non
1921.] THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY 97
sibi soli vivere, sed aliis proficere vult He wished not to live
for himself alone, but to benefit others.
"In some altogether unaccountable way the opinion has
gained ground in these parts that the Third Order exists only
for the personal sanctification of its members, and that it has
no right corporately to engage in social or charitable work.
We have all along contended that the Third Order has not only
the right, but the duty, to work for the spiritual and material
welfare of society, and that it cannot neglect this solemn obli-
gation without forfeiting the esteem and support of its friends
and challenging the criticism and contempt of its enemies.
We will go even further and say that, unless a Third Order
fraternity as a society engages in some sort of charitable ac-
tivity, it has no right to exist. For then, having lost its virtue
and savor, like the salt in the Gospel 'it is neither profitable
for the land nor for the dunghill. It is good for nothing any
more but to cast out and to be trodden on by men.'
"As Father Cuthbert very pointedly says: 'The Third
Order as originally instituted was not merely for individual
sanctification it was meant to assist the Church in the pur-
ification and uplifting of the Christian world. It was an apos-
tolate as well as a personal profession. . . . Anyone with a
knowledge of the political and social conditions of the thir-
teenth century will recognize how much the Tertiaries of those
days had to set themselves against the prejudices and common
opinion of the social world of their day. But they did so set
themselves against the world, not only individually, but as a
body; and so contributed to make the world a little more
Christian in practice than it had been.' "
In this address, Father Cuthbert further said:
"If the Third Order is to regain its corporate influence as
a means of social reform if it is to help the world at large to
become more Christian Tertiaries individually and corpor-
ately must again concentrate upon those two fundamental
principles which give their Order its specific character in the
Church : they must again stand forth as apostles of peace and
goodwill amongst men, and again give a clear example of un-
worldliness and austerity against the sensual paganism which
is everywhere in evidence. . . .
"Today, as in the thirteenth century, many are crying
'Peace,' yet the world is a pandemonium of discord; in place
VOL. CXIV. 7
98 THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS: TODAY [Oct.,
of the individual feuds we have national and industrial strife,
as bitter and un-Christian as any individual party warfare.
In this conflict of peoples and parties which is threatening the
stability of all political and social life in Europe, religion,
generally speaking, is absent, and the teaching of Christianity
is silently ignored or openly flouted, and, as in the thirteenth
century, so today, this un-Christian conflict of peoples and
classes is largely supported and abetted by people who, in
private life, are more or less practical Christians. The weak-
ness of practical religion today, as in most periods of Chris-
tian history, is that men who, in private life, have a Christian
conscience, in public life i. e., in political, social, and indus-
trial life shed their Christian conscience and fall in with the
practical paganism of the world round about them.
"In this imperfect world of ours there must needs be
national rivalries, industrial conflicts, and social differences of
opinion; but these rivalries and conflicts need not be carried
on in defiance of Christian moral and religious principles: it
is the absence of Christian principles and the Christian spirit
in public life which both foments the evil and adds the sting of
bitterness to the conflict when it does break out.
"We have heard a great deal in recent years of what Ter-
tiaries might do in the world; but here is the work Tertiaries
did in the past and it is a work badly needed today the
Tertiary apostolate of fraternal charity and of an austere
Christian simplicity of life.
"And, in saying this, I am but echoing the words of one
whose authority to speak is greater than mine none other
than the Sovereign Pontiff, Benedict XV. For in his recent
Encyclical Letter on the Third Order, the Holy Father sol-
emnly admonishes Tertiaries to take upon themselves, in the
spirit of St. Francis and their former brethren, the apostolate
of peace and goodwill in the face of the dissensions which are
rending the civilized world, and to set an example of Christian
modesty and simplicity, so that some healing may be brought
to a world smitten with hatred and sensuous luxury. It is a
call to Tertiaries to take up their original apostolate and to
concentrate upon their original vocation."
Uew Boohs.
HOW FRANCE BUILT HER CATHEDRALS. By Elizabeth Boyle
O'Reilly. New York: Harper & Brothers. $6.00.
The daughter of that eminent journalist and poet, John Boyle
O'Reilly of Boston, tells in these graphic pages the life history of
the Gothic Cathedrals of France. After an introductory chapter,
"What Is Gothic Architecture," in which she discusses its essence,
origin and development, answering at the same time those critics
who consider it the layman's expression of revolt against the
Romanesque art of the monks, she describes in detail the Gothic
cathedrals of France.
She first tells us of the original work of the Abbot Suger of
St. Denis, who made Paris the centre of Gothic art. He was the
first to wed definitely the pointed arch and the intersecting ribs.
He dared to make piers so slender that the beholders were aston-
ished they could carry the weight of a stone roof; he dared open
his walls by windows so large that his choir was called by the
people the lantern of St. Denis. At the dedication of St. Denis in
1144 the daring Abbot proved to the assembled prelates the
superior beauty of the Gothic vault, and sent them back to their
dioceses its ardent apostles. A chapter on the primary Gothic
cathedrals treats of Noyon, Senlis, Sens, Laon and Soissons. The
era of the great cathedrals was inaugurated by Notre Dame of
Paris. With Chartres, Rheims and Amiens, all dedicated to our
Blessed Lady, it ranks among the master cathedrals of France.
Here St. Louis prayed before he went to his crusades, and here
his body rested in death. Here the Duke of Bedford had Henry
VI. crowned King of France, and here a Te Deum was sung when
the news of the capture of St. Jeanne d'Arc before Compiegne
reached the English. In this cathedral ruled Bishop Maurice de
Sully, the peasant, and his successor, Eudes de Sully, the feudal
baron, descended from Louis VII. Guillaume d'Auvergne, who
finished the northwest tower, was the prime minister of St. Louis
in things ecclesiastical at once theologian, philosopher, mathe-
matician and linguist.
Illuminating appreciations of Chartres, Rheims and Amiens
are followed by other chapters describing the lesser great cathe-
drals of Bourges, Beauvais, Troyes, Tours, Lyons and LeMans; the
Plantagenet Gothic of Perigieux, Angers, Saumur and Poitiers;
the Midi Gothic of Clermont-Ferrand, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Nar-
bonne, Aries and Montpellier; the Burgundy and the Normandy
Gothic.
100 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
"Architecture," as the author says in her introduction, "is
the living voice of the past. Architecture is history written on
great stone pages of perennial beauty for us to read if only we
would.''
NOTES ON LIFE AND LETTERS. By Joseph Conrad. Garden
City, New York: Doubleday, Page & Co. $1.90.
This volume, by the celebrated Anglo-Polish novelist, is made
up of various essays which have appeared in magazines and jour-
nals during the past twenty odd years. The first quarter of the
volume includes essays on Henry James, Daudet, Maupassant,
Anatole France, Stephen Crane, and Turgenev. The greater part
of the book is given over to essays on various subjects, chief of
which are "Autocracy and War," written after Russia's defeat by
Japan, the "Crime of Partition" (referring to Poland) and "Poland
Revisited." Conrad's critical subtlety, his imagination, and his
powers of appreciation are admirably shown in his treatment
of Daudet, Maupassant and Henry James. Of the latter, he says :
"His books end as an episode in life ends. You remain with the
sense of life still going on; and even the subtle presence of the
dead is felt in that silence that comes upon the artist-creation
when the last word has been said."
It took the eyes of a student and a thinker (Mr. Conrad is
both) to point out that the Russia, whose debacle in the Japanese
conflict startled the world, has owed her power to a myth. Un-
accountably persistent, he says, is the "decrepit old spectre of
Russia's might, which still faces Europe from across the teeming
graves of Russian people."
The most impressive thing about this impressive criticism is
the ringing tones of its prophecy. Russia suffers from the "polit-
ical immaturity of the enlightened classes and the political bar-
barism of the populace," and Russian autocracy, having no his-
torical past, cannot hope to have an historical future. The word
"revolution" in Russia is a word "of dread as much as of hope."
He continues, with an insight truly amazing in the light of today's
events: "In whatever form of upheaval autocratic Russia is to
find her end, it can never be a revolution fruitful of moral con-
sequences to mankind. The coming events of her internal
changes, however appalling they may be in their magnitude, will
be nothing more impressive than the convulsions of a colossal
body."
Like the late Professor Sumner of Yale, Mr. Conrad points
out that "never before had war received so much homage at the
lips of men or reigned with less disputed sway in their minds."
1921.] NEW BOOKS 101
He was right and the world has paid the awful price of its mad
homage.
In this volume, Mr. Conrad appears in another light than as
the writer of unique tales, and the admirers of the latter will find
here plenty of cause for further admiration.
THE ESSENTIALS OF MYSTICISM. By Evelyn Underbill. New
York: E. P. Button & Co. $3.00.
A correct criticism and proper appreciation of this condensed
volume is difficult to present. Viewed from some angles, it com-
pels admiration for the author's marvelous familiarity with mysti-
cal literature, her acute sense of spiritual values, rare power of
subtle analysis, and her delightfully graphic and richly poetic
delineations. Its careful perusal affords the reader an unusual
pleasure at once literary and religious. Yet, from another angle,
there is a feeling of dissatisfaction. The author seems to lack the
dogmatic standard of objective religious values by which even
mysticism must be measured, unless it be allowed to run riot and
degenerate into extravagant folly. That Miss Underbill is
not unmindful of the need of such normal restraints as are sup-
plied by theological faith and doctrinal authority, is evidenced
by the chapters, "The Mystic and the Corporate Life" and "The
Place of Will, Intellect and Feeling in Prayer." Yet the Catholic
critic cannot resist the impression that the writer is tainted with
the spirit of Modernism, which reduces religion to a subjective
sentiment, or a sense of the Divine experienced in the soul. In-
fluenced by this tendency, the author's studies might be designated
the psychology of mysticism: for she treats with a like respect
mystical manifestations of pagan or Christian times, of Catholic
or non-Catholic religions.
That for the most part Miss Underbill's analysis of the essen-
tials of mysticism is correct and admirable, is due to her intimate
acquaintance and warm appreciation of the classical mystics of
the Catholic Church, such as St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa and
others, from whose writings she has assimilated the Orthodox
safeguards of the mystical life. Compressed within the brief scope
of two hundred and fifty pages, an excellent survey of the subject
of mysticism or of the loftier reaches of the spiritual life as made
manifest in hagiography, is set forth in a most attractive style by a
most intimate student of mysticism. As an expert psychologist
of the religious phenomena within the soul, Miss Underbill might
be accorded a place midway between the Orthodox dissertations
on the spiritual life by Father Maturin and the rationalistic dis-
quisitions of William James' Religious Experiences.
102 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
HINTS TO PILGRIMS. By Charles S. Brooks. With pictures by
Florence Minard. New Haven : Yale University Press. .$2.50.
Mr. Brooks is a very pleasant and genial essayist. He is the
kind of man who can discuss trifles with a wealth of humor,
interesting allusion, whimsicalness, and good feeling, that make
him a most delightful companion in an hour of slippered ease.
In the present volume of seventeen essays, his care-free fancy
lights, like a frolicsome fly, on anything in sight from a lawn-
mower to the bald pate of Jeremy Bentham. It is a bright-hued
fancy, of swift, erratic dartings and a most engaging buzz.
THE SILVER AGE OF LATIN LITERATURE. By Walter Coven-
* try Summers. New York: Frederick A. Stokes Co. $3.00.
The Professor of Latin in the University of Sheffield is favor-
ably known to scholars for his editions of Sallust, Ovid, Tacitus,
and the Letters of Seneca, and for his fine chapter on Silver
Poetry in the Cambridge Companion to Latin Studies. In this
volume, he deals with the earlier post-Augustan literature of
Rome, and keeps steadily in view the needs of the general and
(alas!) usually Latinless reader of today. His book is on the
whole the best treatment in English of the prose literature under
survey, although Professor Butler's distinguished work on the
poetry of the period from Seneca to Juvenal still remains undis-
lodged from its commanding place as a study of the post-Augustan
writers in verse. Professor Summers equips his work with schol-
arly footnotes, a splendid chronological table, a useful appendix
on translations of the authors discussed, and a full and well-made
index. His versions of illustrative passages from the poets are,
for the most part, exquisitely done. A sound and attractive piece
of work.
THOUGHT AND EXPRESSION IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
By H. O. Taylor. Two volumes. New York: The Macmillan
Co. $9.00.
In these two volumes, Mr. Henry Osborn Taylor continues
his survey of the civilizations of the past, dealing now with the
intellectual life of the sixteenth century. It is a vast enterprise
that he essays, and it can scarcely be said that the attempt has
been even as moderately successful as was his treatment of the
culture of the Middle Ages in The Mediaeval Mind. In his work on
Ancient Ideals, which was "a study of intellectual and spiritual
growth from early times to the establishment of Christianity,"
and in the mediaeval volumes, he was dealing with comparatively
compact and organized periods of culture. Now he enters upon a
1921.] NEW BOOKS 103
period in which several cultural and spiritual ideals were in con-
flict and, as he wisely remarks in his preface: "The mind must
fetch a far compass if it would see the sixteenth century truly."
There is nothing that will appeal to Catholic readers in his treat-
ment of the "English Reformation;" much, indeed, that they must
perforce regard as at once unsound and distasteful. And readers
of another faith will not thank him for his chapter on the Anglican
Via Media. But when he expounds the artistic culture of Eliza-
bethan England he is on surer ground, and his pages on Raleigh,
Sidney, Spenser and, above all, Shakespeare are full of wisdom,
illumination and eloquence. It is strange to find in these chapters
such extravagant admiration of Calvin: "this side idolatry" only
faintly describes Mr. Taylor's attitude towards the tyrant of
Geneva. One envies the comprehensiveness of admiration which
can include in its scope Calvin and Rabelais, Raleigh and Luther!
FRENCH CIVILIZATION. From its Origins to the Close of the
Middle Ages. By Albert Leon Guerard. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin Co. $5.00.
Professor Guerard's work is a remarkably full synthesis of
the history of French civilization. It is the author's highest title
to commendation that he takes a broad and searching view of his-
tory, conceiving it as a dynamic resultant of many forces. This
complexity of determinants, woven into the scheme of life in
mediaeval France, are brought into sharp focus and caught at one
glance in Professor Guerard's book.
Integral history is the aim of the author, for he eschews the
attempt to illustrate history with a single idea. Going as far back
into origins as an historian dare go and he goes further Profes-
sor Guerard's historic vision sweeps Gaul from pre-historic ages
through pre-Roman and Roman times down to the Middle Ages,
where, through the second half of the book, it rests on Feudal and
Gothic France, which, in Glaeber's phrase, "clothed itself anew in
a white cloak of churches." In bold and vivid strokes he delin-
eates the action and interaction of racial, psychological, economic
and geographical influences, and gives dominant place to the be-
neficent power of the Church and the arts of peace which it
brought in its train. Professor Guerard is endowed with a keen
sense of drama of history. There is life and vigor in his style,
which gives his ideas color and an impressive clarity.
Professor Guerard's footing is by no means sure when stray-
ing on the heights of philosophy and speculation. He assumes, for
instance, without discussion, the evolution of the Pithecanthropus
to the state of the Homo Sapiens, as an essential fact in the growth
104 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
of mankind; and yet evolutionists themselves tell us that this
Ape-man is one of nature's experimental failures. And now that
the Andrews Expedition is actually busied in Central Asia, hunt-
ing for traces of humanity's ancestors, the anthropological theory
of Professor Guerard hangs on a link that is still missing. His
opinion that "after nineteen centuries Christianity is still on trial"
and that "so far as national and economic life is concerned, it still
has to be tried" makes the student of history gape with wonder;
and when the author observes that "it opens an attractive field of
speculation to wonder in what way the difference w r ould have
manifested itself if, instead of Christ, the Western world might be
worshipping Mithra today," we need hesitate no longer in pro-
nouncing Professor Guerard's conception of Christ and Christian-
ity as exceedingly imperfect.
THE NEW CHURCH LAW ON MATRIMONY. By Rev. Joseph
J. C. Petrovits, J.C.D. Philadelphia: John Joseph McVey.
$4.50 net.
The subject of matrimony has, in the New Code of Canon
Law, undergone many changes. Some of the one hundred and
thirty-three canons, within whose compass the main discipline
of the Church on this subject (exclusive of some specific dispen-
sations and matrimonial trials) is comprised, embody a discipline
entirely new, others implicitly or explicitly modify or abrogate the
former law. To explain these canons, the only available sources on
which the author could draw were limited to the former discipline
of the Church as reflected in the Corpus Juris, in the numerous
decisions of the various Sacred Congregations, in the writings of
authors formerly accepted and approved, and to the exact wording
of the matrimonial legislation. The author is most modest in his
advocacy of certain opinions of his own concerning the interpre-
tations of those canons w r hich embody a new law entirely or a
modification of the former discipline.
The fourteen chapters of this important volume treat of the
preliminary notions of marriage, espousals, transactions preceding
the celebration of marriage, matrimonial impediments, matri-
monial consent, the form of marriage, the marriage of conscience,
the time and place of marriage, the effects of marriage, the separa-
tion of consorts, the validation of marriage and second nuptials.
The writer of this treatise has done his work well. He always
states clearly the changes in the New Code, as in the imped-
iments of disparity of worship (p. 154) and affinity (p. 260) ; he
contrasts the old discipline with the new, as in the cautiones
required by the Catholic party (p. 117) ; he gives a brief historical
1921.] NEW BOOKS 105
sketch of the law in Church and State, he shows the relation be-
tween the old Roman Law and the Canon Law, and in cases of
doubtful interpretation, he gives the reader the choice between the
different views of the canonists.
MARCUS AURELIUS. By Henry Dwight Sedgwick. New Haven:
Yale University Press. $2.75.
In a long sub-title, the author describes the nature of this
book as "a biography told as much as may be by letters, together
with some account of the Stoic religion and an exposition of the
Roman Government's attempt to suppress Christianity during
Marcus' reign."
There are two reasons why a Catholic finds a book of this
kind a rather sad bore, no matter how much intelligence and fine
writing have been expended upon it. The first reason is that it is
hard to view with patience modern efforts to revamp and make
suitable for practical spiritual purposes ancient pagan creeds,
which their authors would probably have been the first to reject
in favor of the Christian code, had it been disclosed to them.
Merely as a plain matter of taste and judgment, the preference of
Mr. Sedgwick for the husks of an inferior civilization cannot help
offending us.
The second reason is that Mr. Sedgwick, like so many of his
class, does not seem to be able to grasp the importance of specific
and generic differences. These admirers of pagan thought note,
for instance, that the Stoic religion was in many respects similar
to Christianity. They conclude that there is not much to choose
between them. They hastily slur over differences, when, as a
matter of fact, the differences are greater than the similarities.
As Newman points out, Basil and Julian were fellow-students at
the schools of Athens. They were both very much alike, no
doubt, in their practical principles. But we should like to know
what precisely was the difference w 7 hich made one a Saint and
Doctor of the Church, and the other her scoffing and relentless foe.
Mr. Sedgwick illustrates what we have been saying when he
pretends to think that there was not much difference between the
offering of incense to dead Roman Emperors, as gods, and Chris-
tian prayers to the souls of the dead. As there happens to be all
the difference between idolatry and monotheism between the two
actions, one can see how unsatisfactory a book like this can be.
Of course, the author attempts to soften the harsh reality that
Marcus Aurelius was a persecutor of Christians. His apology is
hardly necessary. We are quite sure that, if Marcus Aurelius
had been better acquainted with the Christian religion, he might
106 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
have adopted it, and certainly would not have had innocent men
and women and children slaughtered for holding it. But men
like Marcus Aurelius, to whom religion is a matter of self-respect
and taste, and not a matter of conscience, experience reluctance
in investigating the claims of Christianity. They do not love a
creed which teaches humility and fear of God and dependence
upon Him. We recommend Mr. Sedgwick to read over again
thoughtfully the eighth Discourse of Newman's "Idea of a Uni-
versity." It is entitled, "Liberal Knowledge Viewed in Relation
to Religion;" it ought to help the author to straighten out some of
his ideas on the comparative merits of religion as a philosophic
theory and religion as an affair of conscience enlightened by
Divine revelation.
A SON OF THE HIDALGOS. By Ricardo Leon. Translated by
Catalina Paez (Mrs. Seumas Macmanus). Garden City, New
York: Doubleday, Page & Co. $1.75 net.
Ricardo Leon is one of the most popular and distinguished
writers of present-day Spain. He was born in 1877 at Malaga,
one of the most beautiful cities of Andalusia. His literary career
did not begin until he was thirty-one, when one day he suddenly
awoke to find himself famous by the publication of this volume,
Casta de Hidalgos. Don Pedro de Ceballos, the hero of this tale, is
a modern Gil Bias a dreamer, a rebel, a poet and a lover who
leaves the old manor house of his fathers in Santillana del Mar, to
seek his fortune in the wide world. He travels about Spain with
a troupe of strolling players, gives up the faith of his ancestors,
and becomes a radical of the radicals. After many years of idle
dreaming and gross debauchery, he comes back to his father's
house disillusioned, dejected and homesick.
There are many carefully painted character studies in this
unique volume, which images forth on every page the ideals, loves,
poetry, and religious earnestness of the Spanish people. The stern
Don Juan Manuel, lover of the classics of ancient Spain, the proud
and scholarly antiquarian, Don Rodrigo, the perfect priest, Father
Elias, the good angel of the house, Pedro's sister, Casilda, and the
crude, matter-of-fact sexton, Leli.
There is one remarkable chapter in which Father Time
carries Don Pedro in a wild flight through the skies, and shows
him Spain stretched out before him not only present-day Spain,
but the Spain of every age from the beginning. This whole
description is Dantesque in its imagery.
The translation is excellent as one might expect from the
granddaughter of General Jose Antonio Paez, first President of
1921.] NEW BOOKS 107
Venezuela. Her father, Don Ramon Paez, himself a man of letters,
initiated his daughter into the secrets of the Spanish language and
literature.
DYNASTIC AMERICA AND THOSE WHO OWN IT. By Henry H.
Klein. Published by the Author, New York, 158 East 93d
Street. $2.00.
Mr. Klein has assembled innumerable statistics to prove that
the great mass of wealth in the country is concentrated in the
hands of a very few men, who, as oil or copper kings, railroad,
steel or coal barons, or controllers of other necessities of life, rule
the destinies of the people to an extent far beyond that exercised
by the discredited monarchies of Europe, hence the War, which
was to make the world safe for democracy, has but replaced a
politically dynastic Europe by an economically dynastic Amer-
ica. Nor is the influence of this new dynasty of wealth confined
to the citizens of the United States. Mr. Klein shows how Amer-
ican bankers finance foreign countries and how American monop-
olies extend their operations abroad. He analyzes the wealth of
John D. Rockefeller and the finances of the Rockefeller Founda-
tions, examines the holdings in the leading monopolistic corpora-
tions, listing the owners of the largest shares of securities in
mines, railroads, banks and public utilities. He estimates the
wealth of four hundred and fifty richest families, giving detailed
data for over one hundred. More than forty families hold over
$100,000,000 each; one hundred others more than $50,000,000
each; three hundred others more than $20,000,000 each. Rocke-
feller's taxable income is given as about $40,000,000; two others
have over $10,000,000; fifteen have over $5,000,000, and twenty
over $2,500,000. And the gross income of these estates often far
surpasses the taxable income, non-taxable securities being held in
vast amounts by all of them.
The thesis on which all this statistical data bears, is a pro-
posal to bring about a constitutional amendment for the limitation
of excessive private fortunes, so that the surplus or excess, over a
certain amount, say $10,000,000, goes to the government.
Authoritative Catholic economic thought has anticipated Mr.
Klein in outlining the conditions he deplores and in language as
vigorous. Father Husslein, S.J., in The World Problem, 1918,
has written: "Shortly before the War it was calculated that four
per cent, of the population of England held ninety per cent, of all
the wealth of the country. In the United States sixty per cent, of
the wealth was owned by two per cent, of the people, while sixty
per cent, of the population, representing labor or the producing
108 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
class, held but five per cent, of the total wealth. There is no pos-
sible defence of a system which permits the accumulation of
mountainous fortunes by a few clever, and often highly unscrup-
ulous, financiers who hold in their hands the fate of millions of
their fellowmen." And, as far back as 1891, Pope Leo XIII., in
the famous Encyclical on the condition of the working classes, the
Rerum Novarum, that locus classicus for correct Catholic eco-
nomic doctrine, said: "By degrees, it has come to pass that work-
ingmen have been surrendered to the greed of unchecked compe-
tition. Many branches of trade have been concentrated in the
hands of a few individuals so that a small number of very rich
men have been able to lay upon the teeming masses of the laboring
poor a yoke little better than that of slavery."
Mr. Klein invites discussion on his proposed amendment, sug-
gesting that prizes be offered for the best essays in answer to the
question, "What is the limit of a man's value to society?" Thus
new thought along economic lines might be provoked and aid
found in the solution of our economic problems. To secure the
proper orientation for such discussion, we suggest that the words
of Pope Leo XIIL, in his Encyclical on Christian Democracy be
kept in mind: "It is the opinion of some, and the error is already
very common, that social questions are nothing more than eco-
nomic, whereas they are, in fact, first of all, matters of morality
and religion, and must be settled according to moral and religious
principles."
COLERIDGE'S BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA. Edited by George
Sampson. New York: The Macmillan Co. $4.00.
This is the ideal edition of Biographia Literaria, "the greatest
book of criticism on English and one of the most annoying books
in any language," Arthur Symons wrote in his preface to the
Everyman edition. Mr. Sampson, however, has so arranged his
text by judicious omission of what he amusingly calls "the mass
of imported metaphysic that Coleridge proudly dumped into the
middle" that the element of annoyance is entirely removed. He
gives us also the famous Wordsworth preface and the Wordsworth
essays on poetry "out of which the book arose and without which
it might never have been written." And he supplies some far
from needless notes, abounding in comment that is extraordinarily
fresh and vital. From every standpoint, the work deserves the
highest commendation. Mr. Sampson's arrangement of Bio-
graphia is the best introduction to Coleridge's prose that we
have.
The great attraction of this edition, however, is the noble and
1921.] NEW BOOKS 109
joyous Introduction of forty pages from the pen of the King
Edward VII. Professor of English at Cambridge. "Q" has never
written a finer piece of criticism than this which is saying a great
deal. Full of wit, wisdom, learning, tenderness and happy grace of
phrase, it will be the more admired by students of Coleridge the
more they re-read it.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF FAITH AND THE FOURTH GOSPEL. By
H. S. Holland. Edited by Wilfrid Richmond. New York:
E. P. Button & Co. $5.00.
This posthumous work by the late Regius Professor of Divin-
ity at Oxford is divided into two main parts. The first, "The
Philosophy of Faith," is designed to embody as a coherent whole
Scott Holland's thought and teaching. The second consists of his
contributions to the study of the Fourth Gospel. Holland was one
of the most delightful and inspiring personalities in the Anglican
Church of the last half-century. He was a great preacher in
London and an influential teacher at Oxford. His admirers will
be glad to have in this convenient form a summary of his philos-
ophy of religion. There is an introductory section, "Reminis-
cences of Oxford Fifty Years Ago," which is not less interesting
than informative.
GREEK TRAGEDY. By Gilbert Norwood. Boston: John W. Luce
& Co. $4.00.
In this interesting and valuable work, Professor Norwood's
attempt is to provide for readers with Greek and without a
survey of the whole range of Greek Tragedy. It covers the ground
of Arthur Haigh's two famous treatises, The Attic Theatre and
The Tragic Drama of the Greeks, giving summaries and criticisms
of the surviving plays of ^Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides. To
Euripides he devotes more space than to ^Eschylus and Sophocles
conjointly. And there is a chapter on Greek metres and rhythms
which will probably be read by the general reader less carefully
than the rest of the book. His chapter on Sophocles is full of
learning and imagination, but in dealing with Euripides he is
excessively influenced by the brilliant, captivating, but not seldom
perverse speculations and conclusions of the late K. W. Verrall.
Verrall's theories about the Agamemnon of ^Eschylus, too, have
been disturbingly brought to the fore again by Professor Norwood.
But it is the chapter on Sophocles which will remain with the
reader whose classics are not utterly forgotten. Memorably beau-
tiful are the author's words on the close of the CEdipus Cotoneus:
"... a passage which in breathless loveliness, pathos, and re-
ligious profundity is beyond telling flawless and without peer."
110 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
THE NEXT WAR. By Will Irwin. New York : E. P. Button &
Co. $1.50 net.
This is a striking volume containing a stirring appeal against
further wars. The author states that it is possibly to prophesy
the nature of "the next war" and, from his experience as war
correspondent, he shows that any new conflict would be fought
to a short, but decisive, conclusion by the most ruthless and de-
structive methods ever known. He points out that the perfection
of the instruments of war has progressed to such a degree as to
insure the death of not only the active combatants, but also of the
inhabitants of towns and cities. He shows that in times of war,
the agreements of nations as to its conduct are always violated, and
that in "the next war" the ruthlessness resulting therefrom will be
almost beyond imagination.
Having proved his lesson as to the terrible methods that will
be invoked, he goes on to show the cost of the recent wars. From
this he points out the ruin that must follow upon any further
conflict. He declares that today is the dramatic moment, and
states that "two great tasks lie before humanity in the rest of the
twentieth century. One is to put under control of true morals
and of democracy the great power of human production which
came in the nineteenth century. The other is to check, to limit
and, finally, to eliminate the institution of war."
The conclusions reached by the author are unanswerable
and should carry great weight with those responsible for making
and shaping the policies of the nations. His appeal is one that
must be heeded if our civilization is to be saved.
A SALEM SHIPMASTER AND MERCHANT. The Autobiography
of George Nichols. Edited by his granddaughter, Martha
Nichols. Boston : The Four Seas Co. $2.50.
This absorbing autobiography is said to have been one of the
hundred odd works drawn upon by Joseph Hergesheimer in his
much discussed Java Head, and we may well believe that he
gained much from it in the way of atmosphere and setting. The
hero of the sketch was a hard-headed, but kindly, Yankee who
represented very worthily the best traditions of the New England
of his time. The portrait presented to us is of one who retained
the undeniably solid virtues of the Puritan, modified by a Unitar-
ianism which, if somewhat nebulous in a theological manner of
speaking, was, nevertheless, of a most alluring social cast!
Those were the days when sailing vessels of two hundred
tons burden brought wealth to their owners; when masters of
Salem ships were to be encountered in every corner of the globe;
1921.] NEW BOOKS 111
and when a man with $40,000 to his credit was accounted wealthy.
To one who has prowled along the wharves of Salem, looked out
upon its quaint old gardens or roamed about the Peabody Museum,
this life story of George Nichols, with its tales of hair-breadth
escapes and with the smell of the sea in its pages, will prove a
treasure house.
THE HARE. By Earnest P. Oldmeadow. New York: The Century
Co. $2.00.
This is the second novel of Mr. Oldmeadow dealing with the
life history of Henry Coggin, the genius son of the rag-and-bone-
man of the sordid English village of Bulford. The first part of the
story describes Coggin's bitter fight against the malice of his
enemies, who did their utmost to ruin his business and his repu-
tation. He is delivered from their hands in a most spectacular
and improbable manner by Teddie Redding, the son of his old
benefactor, the Vicar of Bulford, who has become a Catholic in
the interval. His honor is vindicated, and the village, despite
itself, subscribes a most substantial testimonial to its most famous
genius, composer and organist. The second part pictures our
hero's wanderings on the Continent in Holland, Germany and
the Austrian Tyrol. His artistic soul instinctively loved the beauty
of the Catholic Church imaged forth in its music, architecture and
ritual, and rejected the cold puritanic gospel of his childhood.
A scholarly Benedictine monk finally initiates him into the real
spirit of Catholicism, pointing out to him, however, the real
reasons that ought to prompt his conversion to the Faith :
The Church [he says] is a city set on a hill, a city fair to
behold. Her gates, her walls, her towers make a brave show.
Music murmurs and resounds in her streets like rushing water
brooks. Her fountains run wine. But while you are thankful
for these delights, while they refresh you and strengthen you, it
is not for these pleasures that you must climb the path to her
gateway. You must knock humbly at her portals, simply because
Almighty God has appointed this City for your soul's habitation.
Even if her mansions were mud-hovels, if her streets were
choked with nettles and thorns, if her fountains poured forth
bitter waters, her true citizens would abide just as trustfully, just
as thankfully within her walls.
GREEKS AND BARBARIANS. By J. A. K, Thomson. New York:
The Macmillan Co. $3.00.
No one who has read Mr. Thomson's delightful group of
studies in The Greek Tradition or his enjoyable Studies in the
Odyssey will need any urging to buy and read and re-read and, in
112 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
Hilaire Belloc's phrase, "preserve among their chiefest treasures"
this golden latest fruit of his scholarship, imagination and inter-
pretative genius. A book like Greeks and Barbarians helps the
cause of the ancient classics more than a dozen pedagogical con-
ferences assembled to determine solemnly what can be done to
arrest the decay of interest in the Greek and Latin disciplines.
Mr. Thomson has no passion for antiquity merely because it is old;
nothing could be more remote from him than a prejudiced con-
servatism. In his hands the humanities become really human, and
he possesses an enthusiasm, a sanity, and a freshness of outlook
such as are not found combined in one man more than twice or
thrice in a generation. His object in these chapters is to show how
Hellenism was born of the conflict between the Greeks and the
Barbarians. He confines himself to the centuries before Alex-
ander, the centuries in which Hellenism rose into its most char-
acteristic form. "We lovers of Greece," he says, "are put very
much on our defence nowadays, and no doubt we sometimes
claim too much for her. She sinned deeply and often and some-
times against the light. Things of incalculable value have come
to us not from her . . . but when all is said, we owe it to Greece
that we think as we do, and not as Semites and Mongols." One-
third of the book is given to three remarkable chapters on an
ancient theme, "Classical and Romantic." The case for the
classical could not be more cogently urged, or set forth with more
convincing urbanity ancj lucidity. These chapters themselves are
like to become a locus classicus. How the late W. J. Courthope
would have loved them!
MAN AND HIS PAST. By O. G. S. Crawford. New York: Oxford
University Press. $4.75.
The title of this book, which would indicate that it is a
manual of Prehistoric Archaeology, is somewhat misleading, since
it is in fact partly a plea for the better recognition of the impor-
tance, both scientific and national, of anthropology and partly a
description of some of the recent methods employed in field work,
methods largely based on those of a pioneer in this matter, the late
General Pitt-Rivers.
It is a little difficult to form an opinion as to the kind of
clientele to which this book is expected to appeal. If it be intended
for the unscientific general reader, we must confess that we feel
some doubts as to whether it is likely to make any great appeal to
him, though there can be no doubt as to the valuable information
which he would derive from its perusal. If for the professed
anthropologist, the defence of his subject must appear a mere
1921.] NEW BOOKS 113
preaching to the converted, who likewise, if he is not, ought to be
familiar with the methods described in the latter part of the book.
These are quite sound and the descriptions given may well be
commended to the young anthropologist, though, as in other sub-
jects, he can learn more in a couple of days in the field with an
experienced worker than by a year's study of the most excellent
books. We perfectly agree with the author as to the many futil-
ities of history as commonly taught, amongst which stand pre-
eminent the trivial and inaccurate information given as to almost
everything which occurred in England before the Norman In-
vasion, and still more before the coming of Julius Caesar. But the
careful anthropologist should abstain from misleading the his-
torian and the student by fairy tales as to the origin of man, such,
for example, as are to be found in the early chapters of this book.
If set down as surmise, such statements may do no harm, but to
talk of our "far-sighted ancestor" in the Tertiary Period and
describe his doings as in the following passage, is simply to mis-
lead the innocent and ignorant reader who cannot be supposed to
be able to evaluate the information given and sift the true from
the false.
He did not, like so many, spoil his chances by giving way to
fear on every possible occasion, he did not run away from
danger on principle, and so have to adapt his limbs for swift
flight; nor yet did he yield to the temptation to clothe himself
in protective armor. Nor did he cut himself off from the world
by adopting nocturnal habits. On the other hand, he was not
possessed by a devil of pugnacity; he preferred vegetarianism
to the horrors of carnivorous diet. Moderate in all things, he
led a life of meditative aloofness in the forest, waiting for some-
thing to turn up. His patience was rewarded; what turned up
was not any kind of external goods, but the key to all such an
intelligent mind.
When we reflect that no one knows, however much he may
surmise, whether man had an ancestor in Tertiary times and, con-
sequently, cannot have any sort of idea of what he or his ways
may have been like, it is not too much to say that greater scien-
tific nonsense than this never was put on paper.
THE VISIBLE CHURCH. Her Government, Ceremonies, Sacra-
mentals, Festivals and Devotions. By Rev. John F. Sullivan.
New York: P. J. Kenedy & Sons. $1.00.
This textbook of the ceremonial and practices of the Catholic
Church is intended for use in the advanced classes of our parish
and Sunday Schools. It meets a pressing need. The ignorance
of the great body of Catholics concerning all that pertains to the
VOL. CXIV. 8
114 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
externals of the Church astonishes us, until we remember that
the large majority of our Catholics of today left school at an early
age, and their departure from school marked the end of any study
of their religion. Even now many children leave school
between fourteen and sixteen years of age, more or less instructed
in the dogmatic side of their religion, but knowing very little of
its ceremonies and practices. Father Sullivan's book will be wel-
comed by the teachers in our schools, who have been handicapped
by the lack of a suitable textbook. The value of this work would
be enhanced by a list of reference books which could be recom-
mended for more thorough study.
SOCIAL ORGANIZATION IN PARISHES. By Rev. Edward F.
Garesche", S.J. New York : Benziger Brothers. $2.75 net.
The vigor of youth still throbs in the old principle, which
says: "Quidquid agunt homines, intentio judicat illos." Social
Organization in Parishes proposes a practical plan whereby social
service can be vitalized by a pure intention. To sanctify the
server, and at the same time to ennoble those who are being
served, is the generic aim of all genuine Christian charity of a
corporal character. Priest and layman alike may almost use this
volume as an examination of conscience with reference to the
needs and advisabilities of a progressive Catholic neighborhood.
Briefly, the plan offered is to have all social work radiate
from the Sodality as the spokes extend from the hub of a wheel.
Perhaps an informational campaign is first needed to break down
certain misunderstandings of what a Sodality really is, and to
keep people from looking upon it as a devotional society insti-
tuted solely for young women. The book contains historical data
aimed at this disillusionment. The Sodality is for all Catholics,
its main purposes being personal sanctification, the defence of
the Church, and the help of neighbor all through special devo-
tion to the Blessed Virgin Mary truly a vigorous undertaking
for mature men and women, as well as for those in whose young
years the poetry of life is still tingling.
To have correct thinking and pure intention and solid devo-
tion serve as the core and centre of social action is truly an ideal.
But we must struggle daily towards ideals. To secularize the cor-
poral works of mercy to such an extent as to have them sur-
rounded merely with a shell of Catholicism may be, at times, an
expedient surely it is not an ideal. God, self and neighbor, with
particular emphasis upon God as our First Cause and our Last
End, should serve as the Triumvirate of Catholic social work.
The explanations show that the Sodality aims fundamentally
1921.] NEW BOOKS 115
at cooperation with whatever worthy societies already exist in the
parish, and not at their destruction. The chapters on organiza-
tion, and the treatment of the work to be intrusted to what are
called Sodality Sections and Sodality Unions, which allow respec-
tively for subdivision and unification of effort, clearly lead the
reader to find vast potencies for moral, mental and physical de-
velopment in the proper employment of the plan outlined.
The complexities of modern life are so pronounced that
organization is quite imperative for the thoughtful handling of
social distress and community improvement. The author, forti-
fied by definite and extensive experience, presents his proposals
with an encouraging surety. His plan is flexible enough to lend
itself most admirably to carrying out the country-wide pro-
grammes of the National Catholic Welfare Council, and for ful-
filling the special desires of the individual Bishop of a diocese,
without in any way prescinding from the localized needs of the
parish. The method put forth for taking, and for keeping alive,
a practical parish census, so that it may serve as a perpetual in-
ventory of local social resources and liabilities, is very valuable in
itself. The work is not written in an inspirational style, and
difficulties, as well as hopes, are plainly pictured. Even for those
who are not inclined to endorse the Sodality plan of parish organ-
ization, this book will prove to be of exceptional worth as a source
of suggestion.
POE. HOW TO KNOW HIM. By C. Alphonso Smith. Indian-
apolis : The Bobbs-Merrill Co. $2.00.
Professor Smith, Head of the Department of English at the
United States Naval Academy, has written a sympathetic, though
over-enthusiastic, study of Edgar Allen Poe -the World Author,
the Man, the Critic, the Poet, and the Short Story Writer. An
ardent lover of Poe, he greatly resents what he styles the popular
caricature of his hero which "regards him as a manufacturer of
cold creeps and a maker of shivers, a wizened, self-centred exotic,
un-American and semi-insane, who, between sprees or in them,
wrote his autobiography in The Raven and a few haunting detec-
tive stories."
Among the American critics of his day, Poe ranked second
only to Lowell. Most of his book reviews for The Messenger,
Burton's and Graham's was mere hack work, journalistic in style,
and forgotten the moment they were read. On the other hand,
some of his book reviews are still quoted as the best critical work
of the time, viz., Longfellow's Ballads, Hawthorne's Twice Told
Tales and Dicken's Barnaby Rudge. No one can neglect his well-
116 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
known utterances on the meaning, province and aims of poetry.
Poetry he held was the "rhythmical creation of beauty," whose
immediate object was "not truth, but pleasure." Humor "was
antagonistical to that which is the soul of the muse proper." "A
long poem was a contradiction in terms."
Most European critics (as Mr. Smith points out in his opening
chapter) have accorded Poe first place among American poets.
But he fails to state that most American critics do not agree with
them. It is true that he is strikingly original, a poet of beauty,
and a master craftsman of melody in a score of extraordinary
poems, such as The Raven, The Conqueror Worm, The Haunted
Palace, Annabel Lee, The Bells, etc., but a great deal of his work
is imitative and commonplace, narrow both in range and in ideas.
His tales also are most unequal. They range from inane
stories like "Lionizing" and "The Sphinx" to masterpieces like
"The Gold Bug," "The Descent Into the Maelstrom," "The Fall of
the House of Usher," and "The Masque of the Red Death." There
is no question, however, that as a romancer he has wielded a
larger influence than any English writer since Scott.
THE CHURCH AND THE PROBLEMS OF TODAY. By Rev.
George T. Schmidt. New York : Benziger Brothers. $1.50.
This book contains a series of short essays on topics of faith
and morals. They should be interesting and helpful to the general
body of Catholic readers. The volume is neatly bound in dark
green cloth and contains one hundred and sixty-five pages of
reading matter. We are inclined to consider the title somewhat
pretentious for the matter contained.
THE IRISH REBELLION OF 1641. By Lord Ernest Hamilton.
New York: E. P. Dutton & Co. $8.00 net.
The author in this volume attempts, in the name of truth,
to justify events beyond all justifications. His purpose, he tells
us, is "to present the bald truth, as far as it is ascertainable from
existing records, without any white-washing of either British or
Irish excesses," during that period which he describes as the
"Irish Rebellion of 1641." This is the keynote of his preface:
that he would see justice done and tell the truth regardless of the
consequences. Yet when one reads the pages that follow, it is
clearly apparent that it is not his purpose to speak the truth, but
to brand the Irish of that period with the stigma of having com-
mitted the most atrocious crimes and to justify the plantation of
Ulster and the atrocities committed in Ireland by Cromwell.
The whole book is filled with misstatements and unwarranted
1921.] NEW BOOKS 117
conclusions based upon sources of themselves necessarily preju-
diced. The whole volume shows the workings of a mind warped
by bigotry. The limitations of a review do not permit examples of
this. However, a citation from chapter fifteen may suffice to
show the mental attitude of the writer : "The Christmas massacres
at Kinard, and the Ballinrosse and Carrickmacross massacres at
the New Year, were all conducted by priests, whom we may con-
fidently assume to have been of the fanatical firebrand pattern.
. . . The Irish were told that it was as lawful to kill a heretic as
it was to kill a dog or a pig, and, as practically all the seventeenth
century colonists were heretics, this was only another way of
saying that it was as lawful to kill the English and the Scotch as
it was to kill dogs. . . . The doctrine of murder in the name of
God, when once seized upon by the popular imagination, is not
easily extinguished; nor is Ireland a country where unpopular
doctrines are ever very ardently preached by those in authority,
whether lay or clerical. The motto of the nation is rather to go
with the tide, and if possible in advance of it, no matter in what
direction it may be setting."
It is hard to believe that a person of Lord Hamilton's stand-
ing could be charged with statements such as this (and there are
numerous others) especially as he states in his preface that he
purposes speaking the truth. This excerpt is so characteristic
of the whole book that it becomes at once a base libel on the Irish
people and the Catholic Church.
A DICTIONARY OF ENGLISH CHURCH HISTORY. Edited by
Canon Ollard and Gordon Crosse. London: A. R. Mowbray
&Co. 155.
This is the new and revised edition of Canon Ollard's great
Dictionary, a work that since its original publication in 1912 has
been the indispensable companion of all students of English
Church History. It is written from the familiar "Anglo-Catholic"
standpoint, and Catholic readers must, of course, take for granted
that standpoint in using the book. But all serious students of
history will find the work of immense value. No praise can be
too high for the editorial skill displayed in the arrangement of
material and in the mechanical details of the enterprise. Canon
Ollard's own contributions to the volume deserve special com-
mendation; his brief biographies are masterpieces of their kind;
one singles out for particular praise his accounts of the Oxford
Movement, of the Nonjurors, and of Dean Church. The Canon is,
of course, the greatest living authority among Anglican scholars,
upon the Oxford Movement and the Anglo-Catholic Revival. His
118 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
Short History of the Oxford Movement is the best brief handbook
on the subject known to the present reviewer a model of lucidity
and thoroughness. The late G. W. E. Russell whom an English
reviewer has recently and most unjustly described as "a connois-
seur of sacristy gossip" contributes several fine, brief biog-
raphies, among them a charming account of Gladstone as an Eng-
lish churchman. Other contributors whose work seems to call for
special mention are Dean Hutton, who is admirable on the Caroline
divines, and on Jeremy Taylor; the late James Gardner, whose
articles deal mainly with the era of the English Reformation ; and
Mr. Gordon Crosse, the assistant editor, who writes chiefly upon
ecclesiastical law. The two articles dealing with Abbeys and
Architecture, by Mr. W. M. Wright, deserve warm appreciation.
We looked in vain, however, for any notice of Deans Lake, Mansel,
Gregory; of Acland Troyte and T. T. Carter; of Edwin Hatch,
Allies, Oakley, Lord Blachford and Aubrey Moore to group to-
gether a very miscellaneous lot of omitted names. There is a full
account of the Gorham case, but nothing of the Affaire Voysey.
And, in view of the space given to Essays and Reviews, one might
expect a brief account of the birth and fate of Lux Mundi. But it
is ungenerous to complain of a few omissions in a work that is on
the whole so fine and thorough.
THE GIRL IN FANCY DRESS. By J. E. Buckrose. New York:
George H. Doran Co. $1.90.
Reading the title of this book or glancing at its highly colored
"jacket," one would fancy that it was an extremely light novel,
frivolous and frothy. It is, indeed, light in the sense that it is not
tragic or melodramatic, but it is never frivolous, and it is far
from frothy. The author has a delicate touch in perfect conso-
nance with her theme, and in addition a knowledge of human
nature that never fails. The chapter, entitled "See-Saw," in which
is described the first meeting of the lovers after her disguise has
been cast off, contains one of the most subtly managed situations
in contemporary fiction.
THE MCCARTHYS IN EARLY AMERICAN HISTORY. By
Michael J. O'Brien. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co.
The historiographer of the American Historical Society,
Michael J. O'Brien, whose recent volume, A Hidden Phase of
American History, did so much to call public attention to the very
extensive part taken in the preparation for, and the winning of,
the American Revolution by Colonists of Irish descent, or of Irish
birth, has in this book paid special attention to a single branch of
1921.] NEW BOOKS 119
Irish colonization in America, namely, that supplied by the great
McCarthy family. Mr. O'Brien points out the fact that the Irish
in the United States have been singularly, deplorably and
blamably negligent in gathering and recording the part played by
their race in the history of their chosen country.
It is greatly to be desired that this interesting, valuable, path-
breaking book may achieve the principal purpose of its author,
namely, to stimulate further scientific research on the part of
Irish-Americans who should be justly proud of the part played by
their forefathers in the founding and upbuilding of this Republic.
THE DESERT AND THE ROSE. By Edith Nicholl Ellison. Bos-
ton: The Cornhill Co. $1.75.
This book is an account of the experiences of a woman who
came to New Mexico in search of health and bought a ranch in the
Mesilla Valley, forty miles north of El Paso. Although inexpe-
rienced, she made a business success of her venture through intel-
ligent common sense and through kindly tact in her management
of the Mexican laborers. For the latter she has an earnest word
to say; she has found them, almost without exception, to be faith-
ful, loyal and honest. She regrets the spirit of intolerance towards
the peon, and the general assumption that he is "no good," and
feels that the superficial and overcrowded instruction thrust on
him by the public schools has injured rather than aided his
development.
The author has caught the spirit of the desert country, and
has a real appreciation for its beauty, its mystery and its historic
past. She pays a beautiful tribute to the work of the Franciscan
Fathers, although she shows the usual prejudice against the
Jesuits. Her expressions are not always clearly worded, and the
rambling, disconnected style of her narrative makes the book
rather mediocre.
STAR DUST. By Fannie Hurst. New York: Harper & Brothers.
$2.00 net.
This novel, the first from the pen of a well-known writer of
short stories, will interest most the readers who have already
become a part of Miss Hurst's public. Anyone approaching the
book without some previous experience of the writer's peculiar ex-
cellences and limitations, may find himself so much aware of the
latter, as they manifest themselves within the generous scope of
the novel, that he gives the former less praise than they deserve.
Miss Hurst's gift of integrating the "domestic* 7 atmosphere stroke
by stroke with remorseless poignancy, is seen to very great ad-
120 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
vantage in this story. Miss Hurst excels here, as elsewhere, in her
ability to perceive and to depict the concrete. She is liable, here,
as elsewhere, to a turgidity and ungainliness of style in her efforts
after individual expression. The story suffers, moreover, from
the writer's earnestly propagandist motives. The feministic thesis
is ladled out to the reader in every chapter with a heavy-handed
humorlessness, which inevitably impairs the art of the telling.
MUSIC APPRECIATION and Typical Piano Pieces and Songs for
Students of Music Appreciation, by Clarence G. Hamilton, A.M.
(Boston: Oliver Ditson Co.) Each of the arts stands, so to speak, on
two feet, the one practical, the other aesthetic. To this fact all the
methods of instruction must conform and must, also, vary over a wide
range if they are to meet the necessities of the multitudinous temper-
aments exhibited by the genus irritabile of students of art. Mr. Hamil-
ton has recognized these facts and given to the musical world a well
thought out and logically developed idea which should prove of great
advantage to modern musicians. The object of the book is to teach
students to appreciate music by enabling them to analyze the form of
any composition through an accurate technical and aesthetic compre-
hension of the subject. Due regard being given to its size, the range of
subjects treated in it is quite remarkable. All the principal musical
forms are completely covered from the simple dance to the most com-
plex symphony. In supplement to the text will be found lists of books
of reference and other works, which will enable the student to extend
his knowledge and amplify the subjects which he has been engaged
upon. The student will find most useful the separate volume containing
piano pieces and songs used as illustrations in the text.
A MILL TOWN PASTOR, by Rev. Joseph P. Conroy, S.J. (New
York: Benziger Brothers. $1.75 net.) If you had told Father
Dan Coffey an old college chum of the reviewer's that one day his
biography would be written for the edification of his fellow priests,
he would have answered with an unbelieving smile: "Nonsense. You
are certainly talking through your hat." Father Conroy has, neverthe-
less, written a most absorbing story of the life and labors of Father Dan,
the pastor of a little mill town, Mingo Junction, in the diocese of
Columbus. He was pastor of a polyglot parish of some twenty different
nationalities, and in ten years' time he succeeded in making a happy
and a holy family out of these scattered and often hostile units.
REAL DEMOCRACY IN OPERATION (By Felix Bonjour. New York:
Frederick A. Stokes Co.), according to this book, is found in
Switzerland. The author gives an account of the initiative, referendum,
and proportional representation in Switzerland. He also explains how
the Swiss democracy is built upon local democracy. His account of
how democracy operates in Switzerland is very interesting, and is a
1921.] NEW BOOKS 121
worth-while contribution to the library of political government. In the
appendix, he raises the question of whether the Swiss form of govern-
ment will continue to satisfy the industrial elements in the Swiss popu-
lation, and whether some further organization of the industrial popu-
lation is not necessary for real democracy similar to the organization
of agricultural and pastoral peoples in their villages.
ARIOSTO, SHAKESPEARE, CORNEILLE, by Benedetto Croce (New
York: Henry Holt & Co. $2.50), is the first of Signer Groce's liter-
ary criticisms to be translated into English. The translator, Mr. Douglas
Ainslie, points out that Croce's criticism is based upon his theory "of
the independence and autonomy of the aesthetic fact, which is intuition-
expression, and of the essentially lyrical character of all art." Quite
apart from the merits of this theory, it is clear that Signer Croce has
presented in this volume three stimulating studies.
T^HE MOTHER OF DIVINE GRACE, by Father Stanislaus M. Hogan,
1 O.P. (New York: Benziger Brothers. $2.00) based for the most
part on the La Mere de Grace of the Abbe Hugon, O.P., gives the theo-
logical reasons for Catholic devotion to Our Lady. It expressly ex-
plains the meaning of the invocation in the Litany of Loretto, Mother
of Divine Grace. In a dozen chapters, Father Hogan treats of the
nature and effects of grace, showing exactly what the term "full of
grace" implies; of the grace conferred on Our Lady in preparation for
her office; of the consequences of her initial perfection; of the graces
conferred upon her when she became the Mother of God; of the grace
of glory and of queen; of Mary the almoner of Divine grace.
A MODERN BOOK OF CRITICISM, by Ludwig Lewisohn (New York:
*\ Boni & Liveright. 95 cents), contains selections from present-day
critical writers representing France, Germany, England and America.
It is wide in range, touching Anatole France on the one hand with his
belief in criticism as "a personal adventure with books," and, on the
other hand, such critical metaphysics as those of the German Dilthey
with his discussion of the creative imagination. One is struck by three
facts: first, the variety of points of view; secondly, the dictatorial
narrowness of most of these critics in their protests against what they
consider as the dictatorial narrowness of the believers in objective
standards of criticism; and third, the nebulous style of most of these
excerpts, particularly those of English and American writers, reflecting
as it does an equal fogginess of thought. The book makes us appreciate
more than ever the sanity, the insight, and the clear thinking of Cole-
ridge, Hazlitt, Lamb and Matthew Arnold.
i
MEN AND STEEL, by Mary Heaton Vorse (New York: Boni & Live-
right). With Foster's personal account and the Interchurch
World Movement's detached report of the Steel Strike, there now stands
this third volume to make up a trilogy of steel in 1919. This volume
122 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
is the work of one who spent months in the Pittsburgh district during
the great strike, and went down into the homes of the steel strikers and
talked with them. It is filled with incidents of the strike that reveal
the effect of the strike and the attitude of the strikers. It is an impres-
sionistic book written with deep sympathy and intense feeling. Father
Kazinci appears often in its pages, for he served frequently as the
author's guide and interpreter in Braddock. Two facts push their way
from these pages: first, the isolation of the strikers, and second, the
fact that it was considered by many around Pittsburgh as a strike of
"hunkies." The book is well worth reading, at least, for the purpose of
grasping the attitude of the many of foreign birth in industrial com-
munities in this country.
THE ALTERNATIVE, by M. Morgan Gibbon (Garden City, New York:
Doubleday, Page & Co. $1.75 net). Not often does a new writer's
second book please as much as the first, but we find The Alternative a
decided advance on Jan profounder in theme, and going deeper into
life, while sustaining ever-deepening interest. Helen, who remains a
child through more than half the book, is more lovable and delightful
in immaturity than when grown up but so are most of us. The
psychology of childhood and adolescence is well handled, and the
somewhat trite truth of the thesis, that choice involves renunciation,
is made to strike us with new and potent force. Somehow, we find the
happy ending, usually to be welcomed, a misfit for such a character as
Helen. Another point to which we take exception is the disposal of the
Rector in Chapter VI. The device employed is unworthy of so good a
writer as the creator of Jan, and Helen of The Alternative.
SONGS OF ADORATION, by Gustav Davidson (New York: The
Madrigal Press. $1.30). This first publication from the Madrigal
Press is physically a thing of rare beauty, choicely printed on hand
wove paper in the fashion of the more exotic Mosher booklets. Spirit-
ually, it is still exotic, although less satisfying. Mr. Davidson's songs
are meditations upon human and divine love, in rhythmical prose
which owes something to the Psalms, but more to Dr. Rabindranath
Tagore.
CATHOLIC PROBLEMS IN WESTERN CANADA, by Rev. George T.
V^x Daly, C.SS.R. (Toronto, Canada: The Macmillan Co. $2.50.)
In these interesting pages, Father Daly calls the attention of Canadian
Catholics to the problems religious, educational and social which
face the Catholic Church in Western Canada. He treats of the prin-
ciples and policy of the Catholic Church Extension Society in Canada,
the apostolate to non-Catholics, the Ruthenian question, the necessity
of separate schools, the need of a Western Catholic University, the
value of the Catholic press, and the importance of expert immigration
work. Father Daly knows the Canadian West country intimately
through many years of missionary activity.
1921.1 NEW BOOKS 123
THE GREATER LOVE, by Chaplain George T. McCarthy, U. S. Army
(Chicago: Extension Press. $1.50 postpaid). While hesitant
about subscribing to the publisher's enthusiastic statement that this
book contains "the most gripping, inspiring and soul influencing pages
that have come out of the War," we are quite prepared to say that it is
undoubtedly the heartfelt record of an earnest, manly priest, who saw
in each soldier boy a soul committed to his care and whose face once
turned to duty never looked backward. Moreover, the story, even
if a bit flowery as to style, is excellently told. We hold our breath as
the Leviathan swings out into the deep; we enjoy, with the Chaplain
and his "buddies," the piano that had come all the way from Paris to
answer to the touch of Mademoiselle Annette; and we storm with them,
in spirit, the hill at Rembercourt.
PRACTICAL METHOD OF READING THE BREVIARY, by Rev. John
1 J. Murphy (New York: Blase Benziger & Co., Inc.), simply, yet
effectively, explains and instructs the student of the Breviary as to
how that seemingly complicated book is to be read. Father Murphy
covers every major question that presents itself to the beginner and
leads him safely through puzzling turnings and bypaths. We heartily
recommend the volume not only to students for the priesthood, but to
those of the laity who are interested in reading the Breviary*
HPHE CORNHILL CO. of Boston publish The Celestial Circus, by
1 Cornelia Walter McCleary. A volame of pleasing and entertaining
verse, it will be of particular interest to children. The book is taste-
fully illustrated. It sells for $1.50 a copy.
A PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE, by Ernest R. Hull, S.J.
/IL (Bombay: Examiner Press). "Thanks to the effects of the War,"
as the author explains, this pamphlet is published in a flimsy, unat-
tractive form that contrasts almost grotesquely with the interest and
value of the content. It is a collection of articles which appeared in
The Examiner during 1920. The philosophy is divided into three parts,
as applied to Facts, Principles and Actions; and in whichever part we
elect to read, we find the comprehensive title fully justified.
A JOYFUL HERALD OF THE KING OF KINGS, by the Rev. F. M.
Dreves, of St. Joseph's Foreign Missionary Society (St. Louis:
B. Herder Book Co. $1.25 net). Whatever criticism one may have to
offer of this collection of short stories, deals not with the excellent
subject matter, but with the manner of its handling, which is a trifle
too formal and "preachy." One cannot but feel that it will find its
auditors among those already called to the Missions rather than those
in whom it hopes to arouse and foster vocations. It lacks the verve
and spirit that such a writer, for example, as Wilmot-Buxton would
have imparted to it. The "Joyful Herald" is an attractive Saint of our
own age, Blessed Theophane Venard. The succeeding chapters are
mosaic-like fragments of missionary anecdote.
124 NEW BOOKS [Oct.,
THE third volume in the series of Firearms in American History
deals with the history of American rifles from 1800 to 1920.
(Boston : The Cornhill Co. $4.50.) The book has a wealth of illustra-
tion and of technical description which will make it most interesting to
those versed, or wishing to be versed, in the subject of which it treats.
FOREIGN PUBLICATIONS.
Wonderfully lucid and methodic, and written in language which
is clearness itself, is Le Mystere de L' Incarnation, by Pere Hugon
(Paris: P. Tequi). It should be interesting not only to priests, but to
laymen. Another book by the same author, Le Mystere de la Tres
Sainte Trinite, is a beautiful treatise on the Trinity, written in his at-
tractive style, at once elegant and eloquent. Issued by the same
publisher are Abbe Cocart's Enfant, Que Feras-Tu Plus Tard, containing
five conferences on the Priestly Vocation; A Manual of Canon Law
for the Clergy, based on the New Code, by Canon Laurent, Director of
the Seminary of Verdun, treating of the Sacraments, the Pastoral Min-
istry, and the laws of Ecclesiastical Discipline; and Grandeurs et
Devoirs de la Vie Religieuse, by Monseigneur Plautier, containing four
Pastoral Letters on the religious life.
From the Press of P. Lethielleux, Paris, we have Histoire Populaire
de L'Eglise, by Abbe E. Barbier, a popular history of the Church, dealing
with the first six centuries, and Catechisme Des Convenances Reli-
gieuses, by Canon Pracht, a brief manual of the ceremonies of the
Church in catechetical form.
Dr. J. Marouzeau has written La Linguistique (Paris : Paul Geuth-
ner), an excellent treatise on the Science of Language. A work on the
Sacraments according to the New Code (Turin: Pietro Marietti) is
De Sacramentis, by Felix Cappello, S.J., of the Gregorian University,
Rome. This, the first volume of his treatise, relates to the Sacraments
in general, Baptism, Confirmation and the Eucharist.
Etudes de Critique et de Philologie du Nouveau Testament (J.
Gabalda), by Abbe Jacquier, is a summary of the present-day status of
New Testament problems, and answers non-Catholic critics. A third
edition of Rev. Philip Moroto's Institutiones Juris Canonici (Pomes.
Apud Commentarium pro Religiosis), has just been issued, the first
volume treats of Nor mas Generates and De Personis. A two volume
history of the Life of St. Augustine, Le Catholicisme de St. Augustin, by
Monsiegneur Pierre Batiffol, brings out clearly the Saint's idea of the
Church and his loyalty to the Apostolic See.
From the pen of Abbe A. Lugan, we have a thoughtful article on
"Jesus and the Family," in the magazine, Evangile et Vie, and in Les
Cahiers Catholiques, an interesting article on Maurice de Guerin. Pere
Lugan has also written Sermons et Conferences Pour I'annee Liturgique,
(Paris: Bloud et Gay), containing an eloquent Lenten Course on the
individual, the family and society without God, and sermons for the
principal feasts of the year, from Easter to All Souls' Day; L'Egoisme
Humain (Paris: A. Tralin), show the evils of egoism, and Un Pre-
curseur du Bolchevisme, Francisco Ferrer (Paris: Procure General),
is a critical study of the life and activities of the Spanish Socialist,
showing the immorality of his private life and the anarchism of his
school, and proving by the documents in the case, the justice of his con-
demnation.
IRecent Events,
For the last two months, Russia has been
Russia. in the throes of one of the worst famines
on record, due to prolonged drought and a
general failure of crops. The region chiefly affected is the Volga
district, embracing ten governments of a total area of 600,000
square versts and a population of over fifteen million people.
Since its first outbreak in July, however, the famine has spread,
so that from twenty-five to thirty-five million people are now re-
ported as battling against starvation and disease. Besides a short-
age of a million tons of food for the inhabitants and cattle, an
immense quantity of seed is also needed for spring and winter
sowing if a similar disaster is to be averted next year. Especially
pressing is the necessity for seed for winter sowing upwards of
250,000 tons being needed.
After trying for the first three weeks to cope with the situa-
tion, the Soviet authorities were finally obliged to appeal for out-
side aid, chiefly from America. In reply, Secretary Hoover prom-
ised supplies, but only on condition that all Americans imprisoned
in Russia be immediately released, and also that the American
Relief Administration be allowed full liberty of movement and
given control over food distribution. The Soviet authorities at
once agreed to the first condition, and released all American pris-
oners, but several weeks were consumed in wrangling over the
matter of food control and liberty of movement for the relief
agents. At last, owing to the firm attitude of the American author-
ities, the Soviet signed the required agreement at Riga on August
16th, and since then both men and supplies have gone forward
from the United States.
The Russian Government in its negotiations with Secretary
Hoover took the general stand that while it would gladly welcome
all purely humanitarian aid that might be offered, it would tolerate
no interference whatever in the internal affairs of Russia. In the
same general spirit, it has declined to permit the International
Russian Relief Commission, appointed by the Allied Supreme
Council, to make a preliminary survey of famine conditions, on the
ground that the proposed survey is intended to spy at Russia's
weakness rather than bring aid to the sufferers.
To prevent friction, the American relief force is not working
under the United States flag. Besides the American, other relief
126 RECENT EVENTS [Oct.,
agencies are at work, including the International Red Cross So-
ciety. Food supplies, under private auspices, have been sent
from all parts of the world.
Latest reports indicate that the famine has been somewhat
relieved temporarily as a result partly of outside aid and largely
because of the recent harvest. The situation in many places,
however, is more difficult than it was two months ago, and it will
soon be far worse because the miserably insufficient harvest in
these places is only enough to tide the people over some two or
three weeks.
An aggravating feature of the situation has been the complete
breakdown of the Russian railroads. Even before the outbreak
of the famine, Russia's transportation difficulties had reached an
acute stage because of the general deterioration of the railroads
under the Bolshevik regime. Railroad service between Moscow
and Kiev, for instance, had been reduced to an average of one train
a week for freight and passengers, and the traffic situation all
over central Russia was reported to be particularly serious. Now,
of course, it is worse than ever.
Probably as a direct result of the famine, Premier Lenine has
abandoned complete State ownership as a Soviet policy. The new
economic policy, made public on August 9th, is embodied in a
decree adopted by unanimous vote by the Council of Commissars
of the People, after a long discussion in which the views of the
chief Russian political and labor union organizations were ex-
pressed at length. The decree abandons State ownership with
the exception of a "definite number of great industries of national
importance" such as were controlled by the State in France,
England and Germany during the War and reestablishes pay-
ment by individuals for railroads, postal and other public services,
which formerly had been free. There is also to be a gradual
return to the monetary system in place of the exchange of goods.
Outside of the great industries specified in the decree, all other
industries and enterprises are to be leased to individuals, co-
operative bodies and labor organizations.
Sixty-one persons were shot in Petrograd on August 24th
after being sentenced to death by the Cheka, or Bolshevik inquis-
itorial board, for active participation in a plot against the Soviet
Government. Among those executed are believed to have been
several persons accused by the Cheka of being Russian agents of
the American Intelligence Service, who crossed the border into
Russia from Finland.
The Moscow Government has addressed to the American Gov-
ernment a note of protest against the failure of the latter to extend
1921.] RECENT EVENTS 127
to Russia an invitation to the Washington conference on the lim-
itation of armaments and on Far Eastern questions. The note
declares that the Soviet Government will not recognize any deci-
sions reached at the conference at which it is not represented, and
states that it reserves complete .freedom of action. The note
protests also against the lack of an invitation for the Far Eastern
Republic.
Late in July, a conference was held at Helsingfors among the
Foreign Ministers of the Baltic States of Latvia, Esthonia, Finland
and Poland, following an earlier conference at Riga of representa-
tives of Esthonia, Latvia and Lithuania, when a full alliance was
signed between the two former and a close economic accord be-
tween the two latter. The general purpose of these conferences,
however, is to bring into being a Baltic league, towards which the
States mentioned have been aiming for the past two years.
Shortly after the Riga conference, the Soviet Government imposed
a veto of an alliance between the Esthonian-Latvian combination
and Finland or Poland, and even announced that it would regard
such an alliance as a casus belli.
On several occasions towards the end of July various partisan
bands inside and outside Vladivostok endeavored to overthrow the
Provisional Government there, but without success. M. Murkuloff,
head of the Provisional Government, which is anti-Bolshevik, and
is said to have at least the tacit support of Japan, attributes the
revolts to Communist sources. There were numerous casualties in
street fights, and the uprising was followed by the declaration of
a general strike, which is supported by the radical elements.
The Vladivostok Government issued an announcement on
August 6th declaring null and void all concessions in Kamchatka
granted by the Soviet Government. This repudiation would in-
clude certain concessions supposed to have been granted in that
district by Lenine to Washington B. Vanderlip, an American pro-
moter, who has attracted attention in the last year by his state-
ments that he had obtained various large Russian concessions
from the Soviet authorities at Moscow.
On September 4th, it was reported that the Government of
Afghanistan had ratified the Russo-Afghan Treaty.
It is understood that the Treaty gives Russia a large measure
of preferred rights in Afghanistan, considered the gate to India,
over which Russian and English diplomacy have been contesting
for a long time. The Afghan Treaty forms the final link in a
chain giving Soviet Russia a favored position with all her Moham-
medan neighbors Nationalist Turkey and Persia being the other
two and leaves her at peace with all other neighboring countries
128 RECENT EVENTS [Oct.,
except Japan and Rumania. A few days previous to the ratifica-
tion of the Afghan Treaty a Russo-Norwegian commercial Treaty,
closely paralleling the Anglo-Russian agreement, was signed at
Christiania.
The Silesian question has continued to
France. occupy a large share ol Allied attention
during the last two months, but still with-
out settlement. In July, the situation had been at least tempo-
rarily arranged by the withdrawal to their respective borders of
the German irregular troops and the Polish insurgents, when the
whole question was unexpectedly revived by a note of the French
Government to the British at the end of the month. The note
declared that France would not agree to an Allied conference at
that time to settle the boundary between Germany and Poland,
and that France wished to send more troops into Silesia.
To this the British strongly objected and, after many delays,
eventually succeeded in inducing the French to refer the matter
to the Allied Supreme Council, which met in Paris on August 8th.
Here, too, however, the British and French failed to come to an
agreement, and though the British position in the dispute was
backed by Italy and Japan, it was finally decided to refer the whole
question to the Executive Council of the League of Nations, by
whose findings the Allied Premiers pledged themselves to abide.
In accordance with this decision, the Council of the League,
on September 1st, appointed a commission of four members to
settle the Silesian imbroglio. The commission is composed of the
representatives of four neutral nations, China, Brazil, Spain and
Belgium, and it is expected to be able to make its report to the full
Council some time before the end of the month. This move not
only extricates Great Britain and France from the impasse which
they had reached in the Supreme Council, but also averts the
danger of a quarrel that, for a time, threatened the very existence
of the Entente.
The other chief topic of Allied discussion has been the pro-
posal of President Harding for an international conference on the
limitation of armaments. Invitations were sent in July to Great
Britain, France, Italy and Japan, and later to China, and it was
proposed that the conference should discuss not only armaments,
but also all matters pertaining to the Pacific and Far Eastern
problems. It was the inclusion of these last that delayed the
acceptance of Japan, which desired to exclude discussion of Yap,
Shantung and Siberia, on the ground that they were closed issues.
Subsequently, Japan added, to those of the other Powers, her
1921.] RECENT EVENTS 129
assent to share fully in the conference. Another cause of much
correspondence was the desire of Great Britain for preliminary
parleys before the real conference began, but this matter also was
decided in accordance with the President's plans, which opposed
such parleys.
The first meeting of the conference, which is to be held at
Washington, will occur on November llth, the anniversary of the
armistice. Official announcement has been made that the main
American delegation will consist of only four members Secretary
of State Hughes, Senator Lodge, former Secretary of State Root
and Senator Underwood, the Democratic minority leader. The
main delegation from each of the other countries will also com-
prise four members, although each delegation will be assisted by
an advisory group of indefinite number, to be known as "advisory
delegates."
The second plenary session of the Assembly of the League of
Nations opened at Geneva on September 5th. Thirty-nine coun-
tries were represented, the absentees, to the number of nine, con-
sisting of Central and South American countries. As compensa-
tion for this absence, five new members were seated Austria,
Bulgaria, Albania, Finland and Luxembourg. Jonkeer H. A. van
Karnebeck, Foreign Minister of Holland, was chosen President of
the Assembly in succession to Paul Hymans of Belgium.
On the second day of its session the Assembly gave prelim-
inary consideration to a matter which has since developed into a
situation of considerable difficulty, namely, the Tacna-Arica dis-
pute between Bolivia and Chile. Bolivia had forwarded a request
that this territorial controversy be brought before the Assembly,
and the request being held in conformity with the covenant of the
League, the question was placed on the agenda of the Assembly.
Since then, Chile has notified the Assembly that the League of
Nations has no competency or jurisdiction in matters of purely
American concern. In view of the fact that nine Latin-American
nations are already abstaining from participation in the Assembly
meeting, and that Chile will probably withdraw if Bolivia's plea is
upheld, the affair strikes at the heart of the League, and is re-
garded as more than a simple quarrel between two Latin-Amer-
ican countries.
During the last two months, the Secretariat of the League of
Nations has announced the receipt of three more than the neces-
sary twenty-four ratifications of the International Court of Justice
to be established at The Hague. Spain, Siam and Uruguay were
the last three countries to ratify the protocol and statutes. Ninety-
one names have been placed on the nomination list for judgeships
VOL. CXIV. 9
130 RECENT EVENTS [Oct.,
of the Court. Of these eleven will be chosen to be Judges and four
Deputy Judges by the Assembly during its present session. Each
member of the League has the privilege of nominating four candi-
dates two of its own nationals and two foreigners. Elihu Root
has been nominated by five countries, but has declined to stand
for election because of advanced age.
Early in September the Reparations Commission announced
that Germany had made, by the prescribed date of August 31st,
the full payment of the first one billion gold marks due the
Allies. Before the final payment had been made, the Allied Min-
isters of Finance held a meeting at which it was decided to give
550,000,000 marks of this sum to Belgium, on the basis of Bel-
gium's priority rights, and 450,000,000 marks to Great Britain
against the cost of Great Britain's army of occupation in the
Rhineland. France, which was to receive no part of the payment,
was supposed to make up the cost of her army of occupation from
the products of the Saar mines. The French Finance Minister
signed this agreement only provisionally, however, subject to
approval by his Government, and now the latter has declined to
ratify. The agreement assumed that France should be credited
with the value of the Saar coal mines to the total extent of what
she would get in the next fifteen years that she will hold them,
and to this the French Government objects as inequitable. Con-
versations are now being held looking towards a revision of this
clause.
Late in August representatives of the French and German
Governments met at Wiesbaden and signed a separate treaty regu-
lating the payment of reparations. The agreement enters into
effect when ratified by the two Governments, of \vhich there is
every prospect. This is the first War settlement made with Ger-
many in which France has acted independently of her Allies, and
is important because of its practical significance in providing for
reparations in kind rather than in cash. Among other things, the
Treaty provides for the delivery to France by Germany of seven
billion gold marks worth of building material within the next three
years.
A treaty of peace between the United States
Germany. and Germany, which had been in process
of negotiation for several weeks, was signed
in Berlin on August 25th by Ellis Loring Dresel, the American
Commissioner in Berlin, and Dr. Friedrich Rosen, the German
Foreign Minister. The compact assures to the United States all
the rights accruing to it under the Treaty of Versailles, but pro-
vides specifically that the United States shall not, be bound by the
1921.] RECENT EVENTS 131
clauses of the Versailles Treaty relating to the League of Nations.
Before going into effect the Treaty still requires ratification by
the United States and the German Reichstag, after which diplo-
matic relations will be resumed.
The signing of a separate treaty with Germany has raised
considerable discussion among the Allies, especially the French,
as to whether a third international treaty is needed, since the
German-American Treaty is considered to leave certain Allied
rights unguarded. For instance, the Berlin compact does not
recognize that Alsace and Lorraine now belong to France. In
Germany itself the Treaty is looked on with considerable satis-
faction, especially as preliminary to renewed commercial relations
on a wide scale.
On August 26th, Matthias Erzberger, former German Vice-
Ghancellor and Minister of Finance and leader of the Centre
Party, was assassinated at Baden. Erzberger was principally re-
sponsible for swinging the Centre Party in favor of accepting the
Allied ultimatum and making Herr Wirth Chancellor on a plat-
form of "reparation fulfillment." For this and other policies, he
was particularly obnoxious to the Pan-German and Monarchist
sections, and it was feared that his death would be the occasion
of anti-republican demonstrations. The Government immediately
issued drastic decrees against seditious acts, and this, together
with organized demonstrations of loyalty throughout the country
especially at Berlin, where over 200,000 people proclaimed alle-
giance to the Republic intimidated the forces of reaction. The
general opinion is that whatever consequences the forthcoming
taxation struggle holds, the German Republic today stands more
firmly than at any time since the Kaiser's abdication.
One of the results of the Government's decrees was a dispute
between Berlin and Bavaria, which for a time threatened a revolt,
but which is now in process of composition. The trouble arose fol-
lowing the issuance of a decree by President Ebert conferring ex-
ceptional powers upon the German Cabinet. The Chancellor em-
ployed this decree for suppressing newspapers, forbidding the
wearing of uniforms, and raising the state of siege in Bavaria,
all of which aroused much resentment in that State.
Previous to this difficulty, on July 23d, the Inter-Allied Mili-
tary Control Commission announced that the Bavarian Einwoh-
nerwehr, or citizens' guard, whose disbandment the Allies had
been demanding for some months, had turned in 120,000 of the
250,000 rifles they possessed.
A commercial Treaty between Germany and Italy went into
force on September 1st. Under this instrument the two Govern-
132 RECENT EVENTS [Oct.,
ments will undertake to facilitate imports and exports of specified
categories. The Treaty will be operative for nine months, and
after this period will be automatically renewable unless denounced
by a month's notice of either of the contracting parties.
A widespread revolt against Spanish rule
Spain. in Morocco came to a disastrous climax in
the middle of July, and since then Spanish
troops have suffered at the hands of Moorish tribesmen a series of
defeats that, for a time, threatened the loss of the entire country.
In the opening engagement of the war the defeat of the army of
General Silvestre the Spaniards lost 3,000 men, while the booty
captured by the enemy in this battle was valued at more than
20,000,000 pesetas. In the fighting around Melilla, a commercial
port on the north coast and the main Spanish stronghold, the
Spanish losses are placed at 14,712 killed, without counting the
missing. The loss in material here, also, has been enormous, the
tribesmen capturing nearly 30,000 rifles, 139 cannons and 392
machine guns, with a large amount of ammunition.
The Spaniards have recently claimed several successes
against the Moors, but these have been so slight or so vaguely
reported as to give no definite notion of the engagements referred
to. Meanwhile, extensive preparations for carrying the war for-
ward have been initiated in Spain, and on September 1st the
Minister of War summoned to the colors men of the class of 1920,
who previously had been exempt, under the operation of the ballot,
except in the event of war at home. The class aggregates about
50,000 men.
The general situation precedent to the Moroccan uprising was
as follows: the Spanish protectorate in Morocco is a zone extend-
ing along the northern coast opposite Spain, from the Atlantic
east to the frontier of Algeria, and, on the average, fifty miles
broad. South of it is a similar zone under French protection.
During the World War little attempt was made to administer
either zone, but in January, 1920, it was decided, both in Madrid
and Paris, to make military demonstrations with the idea of in-
troducing civil government. By September, 1920, the French zone
was practically pacified, and, at first, the Spanish expedition
under General Silvestre, which was more militant, was similarly
successful. General Silvestre had marched on, leaving detach-
ments at various points and holding a line of communication with
Melilla.
In the recent fighting all these interior points have been cap-
tured by the tribesmen, who are reported to be from 10,000 to
1921.] RECENT EVENTS 133
20,000 strong, and several generals, including General Silvestre,
have been either killed or taken prisoner. For several weeks now
the Moors have closely invested Melilla despite various attempts
to disperse them.
The most serious aspect of the situation is the repercussion
in Spain itself, where a wave of military mutinies, combined with
strikes and riots, has swept the country. The desire of the Gov-
ernment to send reinforcements to Morocco has stirred not only
civic and industrial disturbances, but uprisings among the troops
as well. The situation in Bilboa, one of Spain's most important
industrial areas, is especially serious. There is also the greatest
apprehension in Barcelona, always a hotbed of radicalism, that
the Bolshevik and Socialist elements will cooperate with mutinous
military units.
On August llth, Premier Allendesalazar resigned, and a few
days later was succeeded by former Premier Maura, who has
formed a new Cabinet.
The Greek campaign against the Turkish
Greece. Nationalists has been for the last two
months almost unfailingly successful, till
quite recently when their advance was checked. Beginning with the
capture on July 16th of Kutaia, an important point on the southern
branch of the Bagdad Railroad, about seventy-five miles southeast
of Brusa, the Greeks developed their offensive in several direc-
tions, forcing the Turks to fall back along the entire front. In
the battle around Kutaia more than 15,000 Turkish prisoners were
taken, as well as 168 guns and 2,000 camels.
The next point of attack was Eski-Shehr, an important rail-
way junction, connected with Scutari, Angora and Konieh, about
twenty-seven miles northeast of Kutaia. This place was cap-
tured by the Greeks on July 20th, the Turks retreating towards
Angora, their capital. By means of a turning movement, the
Greeks increased their captured to 30,000 prisoners. As a result
of the Greek advance, the Nationalists were obliged to transfer the
seat of government from Angora to Sivas, a point further in the
interior.
Later successes of the Greeks have been their advance on
Ismid, ninety miles north of Eski-Shehr and fifty-six miles south-
east of Constantinople, and their attack in the direction of Ada-
bazar, at the base of the peninsula, thus threatening the capture
of the entire Ismid Peninsula, which lies to the east of Constanti-
nople between the Sea of Marmora and the Black Sea.
The most recent action has been an eight-day battle along a
134 RECENT EVENTS [Oct.,
forty-mile line between the Sakaria River and Angora, in which
the Turks were finally compelled to fall back. The losses in this
battle have been particularly heavy on both sides, the Turkish
casualties in killed and wounded being estimated at 12,000, while
the Greek losses are placed at 10,000. This, so far, has been the
hardest and most evenly contested battle to date.
Basing their opinions on this engagement, military experts
believe that the Greek offensive towards Angora has received a
definite check. This is attributed not only to transportation dif-
ficulties, but also to faulty generalship and inefficient artillery.
Latest reports state that a revolt has broken out among the
Nationalist forces. According to the dispatch, the Turks have
abandoned the Heights of Kongiojak, thirty-five miles from An-
gora. The retreat of the Turkish forces on the Greek right is
being covered by a rear guard, which is holding up the advance of
the Greeks. Several Turkish divisions are strongly intrenched
before the Greek centre.
King Constantine has had the active direction of the Greek
offensive, and after the victory at Eski-Shehr a Greek advance on
Constantinople was discussed as a possible development of Con-
stantine's military ambitions. The Allies, however, warned
Greece that such an advance would not be tolerated. Beyond this
warning, the Allies have not interfered in any way in the Greek-
Turkish conflict, thus preserving their declared attitude of abso-
lute neutrality.
Up to the end of July sanguinary conflicts
Italy. continued to occur at various points
throughout Italy between the Fascisti and
the Communists. The most severe fighting took place at Sarzana,
Province of Genoa, where twenty-seven persons were killed, and
at the village of Roccostrada, near Grosseto, where twelve Com-
munists and one Fascisti were slain.
The situation after the tragedy at Sarzana became so grave
as to make the people fear civil war, as the Fascisti were aided by
the Nationalists throughout Italy, while the greater part of the
Socialists defended the violence of the Communists, who had
formed for the purpose a body called the "People's Arditi."
These last, though declared to comprise all the lowest elements of
the population, were organized in military groups, fully officered
and trained.
Finally, as a result of the dangerous situation, the Italian
Government in the person of Signer Denicola, president of the
Chamber of Deputies, made arrangements for bringing about a
1921.] RECENT EVENTS 135
peace between the warring factions. The agreement, in the form
of a treaty, was signed early in August by representatives of the
Fascisti and the Socialists. It stipulated that both sides assume
responsibility for keeping the peace, and each side must return the
trophies, emblems and banners captured from the other. The
Socialist provincial governments, which had been forced by vio-
lence to resign, have since been reinstated. The Socialists, in the
agreement, repudiated the militant radical organization, the
People's Arditi.
The chief credit for the peace belongs to the new Premier,
Signer Bonomi, who took a firm stand and threatened military
intervention by the Government unless the disorders ceased. On
being challenged, the Premier put the question to the Chamber
of Deputies for a vote of confidence, and succeeded in obtaining
the largest majority since the armistice was concluded.
The new Premier has expressed his intentions of devoting
himself chiefly to the reconstruction of Italy, but one of the most
serious problems he has to face is the foreign policy to be adopted,
particularly with the reference to the Porto Barros complications
at Fiume. It was on this issue that the previous Cabinet fell, the
former Foreign Minister, Count Sforza, having practically given
the place up to Jugo-Slavia. What is now demanded by Fiume
and the majority of Italians, is that Porto Barros, although nom-
inally belonging to Jugo-Slavia, shall form a commercial unit with
Fiume. To this, of course, Jugo-Slavia is opposed.
With regard to the local situation in Fiume, early in Septem-
ber the legionaries of d'Annunzio withdrew from the city, and the
military command was assumed by General Amantea. The Italian
Legation has been closed, and all powers have been taken over by
a special Italian Commissioner. Efforts are being made to estab-
lish a constitutional government, but the bitterness engendered
between the parties during the various phases of the Fiume ques-
tion make an early solution improbable.
September It, 1921.
With Our Readers.
"T ET the dead past bury its dead" is the sentence which is often
L< hurled at one who dares unearth any lesson from former
days. "We are living in the present: we face the future. The
present and the future are our concern, not the past." Perhaps
such an attitude of mind is not altogether unwarranted for,
indeed, there are many who see no good in our own days and in
our own doings and, on the contrary, idealize the conditions that
prevailed in other centuries. While our sympathies are not with
those who laud only the things that have been, nevertheless, our
sane judgment recognizes that there is a living past, a past that
has not died and cannot die. So living is that past that, in the
continuity of the human race and in the relationship of all human
doings, it may be considered to have passed into the eternal, the
ever-present, of value now as when it sprang into being.
NOT unseemly and not unprofitable is the custom of com-
memorating past events, when those events are of such im-
portance that they still throw the brightness of their light into
the shadowy places. It is not strange then that one of the char-
acteristic features of four great centenaries celebrated this year,
has been their application, through the personalities and works
that have been honored, to the conditions and problems of our
day. St. Jerome, St. Francis, St. Dominic, Dante are all figures
that stand out in undying prominence, not only surveying the
world of their own day, but on the everlasting hills, standing as
beacon lights to the travelers of all time.
* * * *
N all his Encyclical Letters upon these great men, our Holy
Father, Benedict XV., doing honor to their memory, has also
sought to impress upon our day the living lessons that the deeds
and thoughts of these heroic personalities have bequeathed to
humanity. And other writers, not all, by any means, members of
the Catholic Church, have likewise dwelt largely upon the appro-
priateness of drawing lessons for the present from the lives of
these men. Many go as far as to outline the similarity of our
own time, first with that period illuminated by Jerome, between
the era of paganism and Christianity, and then with that period
graced by Francis, Dominic and Dante between the Middle Ages
and the Renaissance. Each is honored by some great achieve-
1921.] WITH OUR READERS 137
ment; but each is honored likewise for his personal influence, an
influence which even flows into our own day. Jerome immortally
stands as the man who accomplished the tremendous task of the
translation of the Scriptures, but he was no less, through his
priestly life, an exceptional guide and a saintly spiritual director
of human souls. Francis impressed upon a world of luxury the
meaning and beauty of poverty, but he also exerted a personal
influence in drawing others to his standards and in raising them
to spiritual ambition. Dominic stayed the flow of an unseemly
heresy, but he likewise inspired others to choose the same path
he had chosen and brought innumerable souls to the light and the
following of Christ. Dante sang the greatest song of time, but in
that singing he likewise impressed upon humanity what was of
greatest individual value, the highest ethical standards of life. In
a word, if they shine as the doers of great works, they also shine
as personalities of the highest type and character, influencing not
only their own, but every age that follows.
* * * *
AS in the study of any human being, so in the study of these,
the paramount search is into their innermost souls, to find,
if possible, that which was the motive power behind their lives.
In that search and in the answer that we shall necessarily find,
we shall also discover the reason why each of this quartet of
giants has a message to the world today. For whether we dwell
upon the intellectual glory of the saintly Hermit, or the cherubic
light that illumined the preaching of the Friar Preacher, or the
seraphic ardor of the Poor Man, or the heavenly vision of the
supreme Poet, we shall find that the inspiring, indwelling, force
that expressed itself in the truth and goodness and beauty that
they manifested, was Catholic Faith. Each of these men was a
follower of Christ within the Church of God, His Kingdom on
Earth. The intellectual standards they set, the ethical principles
they maintained, the remedies for social ills they put forward,
the truths they preached, in sermon or in poem, were all Catholic
in the purest and fullest sense. The Church has had no more
devoted children than these. If the world would pay them no
empty honor, then must that world, suffering and ill as it is, look,
for cure and remedy, even beyond the men that it honors to that
which made them great.
WHEN St. Jerome is mentioned there comes before the mind,
first the intellectual marvel who because of his superhuman
learning could achieve the tremendous task of the translation of
138 WITH OUR READERS [Oct,
the Scriptures into Latin, in such a successful way as to obtain for
his version the official recognition of the Church.
Then, as we look a little into his personal characteristics, we
are, no doubt, next impressed with the sternness and strictness of
this ascetic and hermit. We look upon a man most mortified in
his own life and demanding from others like mortification if they
would be true disciples of Christ. As such, his denunciations of
the evils of his day, especially in the city of Rome where he dwelt
some years, his stern characterizations of those who opposed his
views, his uncompromising attitude even in regard to things
lawful but not highest, all these stamp him as an unbending, un-
yielding and determined man that would repel did we not look
further.
* * * *
IF we do look further we find not only the unquestioned saintli-
ness of his own life, but we find that, in the interest which he
took in others, he displayed qualities which offset the more severe
ones, and serve to endear him to those who have at heart the wel-
fare of humanity. Anyone who studies the years of his life in
Rome, after his experiences in the desert and before his retirement
to Palestine, will find him to be not only a man of ascetic life and
stern language, but also a priest who was a most tender, solicitous,
painstaking and sympathetic director of souls. Many a soul he
formed in the mold of Christ. With gentle and untiring care, he
led them on those paths where alone true peace is found. The
man who could call forth the affectionate adherence and the
devoted service of such women as Marcella and Paula and Eusto-
chium and Blesilla and a host of others, who formed a wonderful
company, could not be merely stern and severe.
Nor was his interest limited only to those who, in some
measure, had already tasted of the spiritual springs. He sought
also, often by sarcasm, often by invective, but often too by plead-
ing to win the thoughtless and the sinful to the standards of
Christ. He was fully alive to the evils of his time, and he scored
them. He was burning with zeal for souls, and he sought to gain
them.
WITH few changes some of the things St. Jerome said of
Roman Society in the fourth century, would find application
today. For example, he inveighs against Christian women "who
smear their face and eyes with every kind of powder, and who,
like idols, make for themselves faces of plaster, whiter than
nature, upon which, if they happen to shed a tear, a furrow would
1921.] WITH OUR READERS 139
at once appear on their cheek:" or against those "to whom, though
years have come, they cannot understand that they are old: who
raise edifices of false hair on their heads, and conceal their
wrinkles under a lying semblance of youth: who, trembling with
age, give themselves the airs of young girls in the midst of their
own grandchildren."
When, too, for example, he was trying to gain the soul of the
young w r idow, Blesilla, to the service of Christ, he said, "she re-
sembled too much those pagan widows who covered their faces
with powder, dressed themselves in silk, shone with gold and
precious stones, and wept for their lost husbands far less seriously
than thev looked out for new ones."
PR greater evils he had still more severe terms and never did
he hesitate, no matter where evil was found, to throw light
upon it and rebuke it. Yet in these things of human interest, he
could be gentle, too. How beautiful are the words he addresses to
the widow, Salvina, who had sought his advice as to the rearing
of her two little children. After giving much in the way of direc-
tion and speaking of her boy he says "that in the child's little
body a great heart must dwell, to judge from the noble spirit his
features reveal." And he compares the boy's sister to a "basket
of lilies and roses, to ivory mingled with purple. She resembles
her father, but with a more gracious beauty than his, and she so
much resembles her mother, too, that both father and mother are
recalled by the child's features. She is so charming, so sweet, that
all the family is proud of her. The Emperor himself takes her in
his arms, and the Empress loves to press her against her bosom.
All compete for the possession of the child. She plays and frisks
about with all. She can as yet only lisp and stammer, which
renders her all the more charming."
* * * *
THHE Saint was a man in whom there was much of the milk of
* human kindness, as well as much of the indignation of virtue
before the face of vice. May it not be that we of the twentieth
century can find a great deal to imitate in the stern and yet kind,
the intellectual and yet spiritual, the uncompromising and yet
sympathetic Saint of the fourth century?
IF ever there were a day when the citizens of our country should
be thoroughly alive to the need of informing themselves upon
the civic and political conditions of the times it is the present.
140 WITH OUR READERS [Oct.,
Important, and even essential, matters in the life of the nation are
being decided. The first condition for the foundation of a sane
judgment is knowledge of the facts that have a bearing upon the
vital questions of the day. To keep informed, we must read, we
must think, we must discriminate and digest, but we must, above
all, have a standard by which we can judge, and that standard
must be ethical.
OERHAPS it is in the lack of such a standard that many of the
1 so-called civic teachers and many of our recognized political
students, as well as leaders, offend. In many of the recent con-
tributions in magazines and largely, also, in pretentious volumes
of biography, history and civic principles, there is a tendency to
dissociate politics from morality. Divorce is so common now-
adays that there are many who seek to divorce everything from
everything else. They divorce religion and morality; they divorce
economics and morality, and they do all they can to divorce
politics and morality. But the Scriptural dictum in regard to
another institution applies here: "What God hath joined together
let no man put asunder." And God has, by His eternal mandate,
joined morality to every activity of life.
NO matter into what sphere a man enters, he never ceases to be
a moral agent, never ceases to be accountable to the Supreme
Court of all peoples. Whatever our freedom, we are not free
from God. Whether, through the inheritance of citizenship, a
man is called to fill an office or simply to exercise the right of the
ballot, there is ever a tribunal before which he must give answer
for his actions, the court of conscience. A traitor to the best inter-
ests of his country is a traitor to conscience. The question is not
whether his deeds square with the bare requirements of social
and civil laws : the question is not whether his actions are such as
to render him safe from the indignity of prison bars, but the
question is whether his actions as a citizen square with God-given
moral principles, the principles of eternal justice.
The great American, Abraham Lincoln, put the ethical ideal
of citizenship in these words: "I am not bound to win, but I am
bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to
live up to what light I have. I must stand with anybody that
stands right, stand with him while he is right, and part with him
when he goes wrong." A sense of this individual responsibility
is the best safeguard of a country. The nation that disregards it,
1921.] WITH OUR READERS 141
will find its government carried on by weaklings and its voting
done by cowards.
* * * *
AT the present time policies are being formed, questions are
being decided, which have an important bearing upon the
future of the world. Our own country has its share in the forma-
tion of such policies and the decision of such questions. What-
ever compromises are made, whatever diplomacy is used, what-
ever conclusions are reached, these should all be in conformity
with right moral principles and the demands of justice. If, in
these proceedings, citizens seek to advance the good of the com-
munity as a whole, rather than the interests of an individual or a
class of individuals; if they so respect the rights of the individual
as to allow him the fullest extent of liberty consistent with the
laws of the land; if they maintain the constitutions and laws of
municipality, State and Country, not merely in the letter, but
also in the spirit: if they secure these things by using their pre-
rogative of the ballot conscientiously for the right, against the
wrong; if, in other words, instead of dissociating political and
civil life from moral principles, they make these very principles
the basis of their political and civil acts, then will there result the
peace and happiness, which are the best evidences of national
good health.
A RECENT controversy over the becomingness of an exhibition
** of post-impressionistic pictures at the Metropolitan Museum
of Art in New York, deserves our attention because it has been the
occasion of a revived manifestation of moral health. A circular
issued against the exhibition speaks of it as "having a destructive
influence in both art and life." A number of paintings are men-
tioned specifically, that show either "mental or moral eclipse."
A sane artist of no mean reputation has this to say of the ex-
hibition: "Three-quarters of the walls where the loan exhibition
is hung furnish many good pieces of work, notably those of the
impressionists, but the mistake that has been made is in assuming
that the post-impressionists are a development of the impression-
ists. Post-impressionism is not an outgrowth of impressionism
at all, but is pure degeneracy, the same form of degeneracy that
brought on the War : and, with peace, it has been abandoned even
in Germany, where it came from."
* * * *
DEGENERACY in any art is a sign of degeneracy in civilization
and morality. The readiness to meet the challenge that such
142 WITH OUR READERS [Oct.,
forms of so-called art throw down, is a good sign of the reaction
against the same sort of thing in other fields. May it not indicate
a revival of opposition to that kind of philosophy that declares
against God and religion and strives to eliminate those factors
from human life: or against that education that would ignore
the claims of the Deity? May it not be an evidence of opposition
to the perversions of the moral law that would wipe out, if pos-
sible, some of the Ten Commandments, that would destroy the
sense of domestic and family duty, that would erase the laws of
justice and that would make earthly and individual expediency,
rather than the will of God, the rule of mankind? At any rate, it
is opposition to the distortions of the highest arts; to painting
that purveys to lust rather than idealism: to music that reflects
only vagueness, indefiniteness and immorality instead of speaking
the message of God's beauty: to the drama that exploits the
darkest things of life and condones and even approves the most
glaring offences instead of truly "holding the mirror up to nature."
It is not too much to say that such opposition is a rebuke to the
multitudes that apotheosize pleasure at its lowest as the one aim
of existence.
THE missionary spirit is characteristic of Catholicism. Zeal for
the winning of souls to the truth and the following of Christ
is the accompaniment of active and devout faith. The evidence
of growth in the development of this virtue are at once gratifying
and inspiring. It is only in recent years that American Catholics
have entered fully into the field of foreign missions, by the actual
sending of men and women apostles. It was just the other day
that the first band of American Catholic women, six Sisters from
Mary knoll, left their home on the Hudson for mission work in
China. This is the most striking evidence of American Catholic
interest in the souls that still walk in darkness.
* * * *
AMONG other evidences of advance, two, widely separated, have
recently been called to our attention. One is quite unique:
the establishment in one of the San Francisco parishes of a Cath-
olic parochial school for Chinese children exclusively. This school
opened with three hundred pupils; and with about the same
number of older pupils in the night classes. One of the features
of the school building is a chapel where Mass is celebrated and
which Chinese only are permitted to attend.
The other evidence consists in the news of the establishment
in India of the "St. Thomas Printing and Publishing Society" by
1921.] BOOKS RECEIVED 143
one of India's most zealous native priests, Father Mattam. The
objects of this society are: 1. To start an Apostolate of the Press
for the Propagation of the Faith. 2. To print and publish news-
papers and magazines, books and tracts on religion. 3. To start
a vigilance bureau for defending the doctrines of the true religion.
4. To conduct an orphanage and an industrial school where boys
may be trained for carrying on the above said objects.
Efforts of this nature must necessarily warm the hearts of
Catholics everywhere, and contribute largely towards the mainte-
nance of a living, active, cooperation through prayer and alms.
BOOKS RECEIVED.
BENZHIKR BROTHERS, New York:
The Summa Theologica of St. Thomas Aquinas. Part I. Literally translated
by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. $3.50 net. Meditations on the
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THE
VOL. CXIV.
NOVEMBER, 1921
No. 680
SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY.
BY FATHER CUTHBERT, O.S.F.C.
HE difficulty about the word "Socialism" is that it
means so many different things on the lips of
different speakers. When somebody said: "We
are all socialists today," he showed himself a
keen observer of the trend of human affairs.
More people are socialists in the widest sense of the word than
are willing to associate themselves with any of the parties
who claim the title. For, in its widest and generic sense, the
word signifies some fundamental opposition to the economic
system as it has prevailed during the past century. It is really
only on the point of this opposition that the various socialistic
parties themselves are in agreement. When they come to
formulate a constructive system they are frequently in funda-
mental contradiction. Collectivist and Syndicalist are directly
opposed on the matter of State ownership : the Guild-Socialist
seeks a via media between the two. Again, there is the Social-
ist who demands the abolition of all private property, and the
other who would limit the right of private property only so
far as it is necessary to obtain a more equal distribution of
wealth.
Some regard the Socialist agitation as properly a
class-war, the aim of which is to avenge the wrongs of the
COPYRIGHT. 1921. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE
IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK.
VOL. cxiv. 10
146 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
working class upon a guilty body of capitalists and private
employers. Others consider that the movement should aim at
bringing all classes in the community to a better understand-
ing as to each other's claims and rights, and regard a class-
war as a social and economic evil to be avoided if possible.
All are agreed that the prevalent economic system must be
radically changed; but with some of them it is not easy, at least
as regards direct economic changes, to determine where they
differ from many advocates of social reform and most people
now-a-days are advocates of social reform who oppose them-
selves to Socialism as a party badge. Thus on the question of
private property and the rights of the wage-earner, not a few
Socialists go no further than Pope Leo XIII. in his Encyclical,
Rerum Novarum; whilst the majority of Trade Unionists,
even of the most advanced type, still refuse to be regarded as
Socialists, though it is evident that they are working, as are
Socialists, to bring about a more equal distribution of wealth
and to supplant the autocracy of industry by a more demo-
cratic control of labor.
But though it is not easy to determine the precise points
of economic doctrine which separate the non-Socialist oppo-
nent of the present system from the Socialist, there is, never-
theless, an undoubted cleavage between the two, of some
fundamental quality which lies deeper than mere doctrines.
Why is it that many who "out-Socialist" not a few Socialists
in their claims on behalf of the worker against the present in-
dustrial system, regard any propaganda which labels itself
"Socialist,'* with suspicion and sincere opposition? In some
cases it may be said that they fail to differentiate one Socialist
school from another: but that is not always so. There are
many whose sympathies are wholly democratic, yet who with
a full understanding of Socialist aims, refuse to adopt the
Socialist label or to associate with any Socialist party. Social-
ism in any form or with whatever modification is to them
suspect.
The reasons for this attitude are not far to seek. Socialist
theories have a history. The progress of Socialism has been
marked by violent revolutionary outbursts, which no society
can tolerate without subversion of all law and order. Even
today, as the Russian Revolution has once again shown, the
movement is apt to be dominated by the violent and anarchist
1921.] SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY 147
sections in times of active upheaval. Notwithstanding the atti-
tude and doctrines of the more constitutional Socialists, such
as Mr. Ramsay MacDonald, to the man in the street Socialism
is still conceived of as a denial of the right of private property
and as a doctrine of class-war upon capitalists and employers :
and the opinion of the man in the street in a matter of this
sort, is mainly the decisive factor in popular upheavals.
Again, taking the movement as a whole, it has not yet rid itself
of its early antagonism to historic Christianity: it is still, for
the most part, frankly secularist. And, again, it has yet to
convince the greater number in the thinking world, that in
operation it will not unduly limit the freedom of the indi-
vidual in the control and disposal of his life even to a greater
extent than the system it would displace. Whether Socialism
will ever outgrow the suspicions its history has engendered,
only time can tell, but if it does, it will be a Socialism radically
different in its constructive programme from the Socialism
of the past. Already it has shown radical changes both in its
general attitude towards society and in its constructive
theories.
From its first inception in the early days of the nineteenth
century, the history of Socialism has been one of reactions : it
is not one theory, but many theories largely contradictory of
each other; so that to speak of Socialism in one breath as of a
theory or system, is to speak at once of many theories or
systems hardly reconciliable. At the present day, to say that
Socialism as a theory denies the right of private property is
true only if the word is used vaguely as descriptive of the
communist or anarchist: it is not true of the Socialist bodies
at large; to say, again, that State ownership is a Socialist
dogma, is to take no account of the Socialist organizations
which repudiate State ownership. The generic use of the
word is, therefore, apt to breed confusion of thought; and, as
a consequence, many of the criticisms aimed at Socialist
theory are met by the retort on the part of the Socialist, that
the theory attacked is no part of his programme. On the other
hand, theories or doctrines which have no essential connection
with the popular conception of Socialism are not infrequently
regarded as socialistic, merely because they find a place in
some Socialist propaganda. Thus the Labor demand that the
workers should have a large control in industry, is not uncom-
148 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
monly branded by hostile critics as Socialist, though, in fact,
it is put forward by non-Socialist, as well as Socialist, and is
founded in an elementary principle of Christian ethics.
We need, then, a clear definition of the term as it is com-
monly used if we are to avoid the pitfalls of loose language.
Two definitions might be given, very widely different, in
which the word "Socialism" might be used generically. In the
first place, it may be used, as it frequently is, as signifying an
opposition to the system in which wealth and capital are the
governing factors in social and economic life. In this sense,
the trend of present day social reform, whether as represented
in the ethical or legislative movements of the time, may well
be described as Socialist. They are radically opposed in prin-
ciple to the social and economic conditions which have been
accepted in the immediate past under which a few have risen
to great wealth and power, whilst the body of the people have
had a bare subsistence and hardly any voice in the disposal
of their lives. As thus used the word Socialist signifies nothing
more than a definite opposition to the capitalist system as it
has developed during the past few centuries. With some,
"Socialism" in this vague and negative sense, has been a con-
venient stick with which to belabor any advocate of social
reform; with others, it has been voluntarily adopted as a con-
venient label to denote their attitude in the struggle between
Capital and Labor. But in either case the use of the word is
unfortunate, since it tends to confuse social reform with the
particular constructive movement to which the word more
properly applies by prescriptive right. If the general move-
ment towards a new constructive system must have a distinc-
tive name, the word "democratic," in the modern English sense
of the term, 1 would be a juster and clearer designation, since
its purpose is to secure the rights and liberties of the people
at large. For, undoubtedly, the social reform movement is
democratic in its opposition to the oligarchic character of the
modern capitalist system; and on the ground of democratic
liberty it finds its true position both in regard to oligarchic
1 The student will of course be aware that in classical and mediaeval language
"democracy" meant the "tyranny" by the many as distinct from the tyranny of the
few (oligarchic) or of the one (monarchic). Leo XIII. has formally recognized the
term in the sense in which it is generally used in English-speaking countries, as
meaning the "liberties" of the many, whilst at the same time denouncing democracy
in the old sense of the word. (Cf. Encyclical Graves dc Commnni.)
1921.] SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY 149
Capitalism and to the Socialist theories with which it is in
fundamental disagreement. The term "Socialist" in the wide
sense, however harmless in itself, was more wisely discarded
by those in sympathy with social reform. That it should be
discarded by those in opposition to reform is hardly to be ex-
pected, so long as it is useful for their purpose.
We come then to the more correct sense in which the word
"Socialism" may be used as a common denominator. We
have already noticed that the denial of the right of private
property and State ownership can no longer be attributed to
Socialist theory, at least not in any absolute sense, unless we
first distinguish between this or that school of Socialism; nor
can we say that present-day Socialism regards class warfare
as a fundamental tenet, though there are Socialists who still
adhere to it. If then the word Socialism is to have any distinct
generic meaning, we must seek for it elsewhere rather than in
precise doctrines. Communists, Internationalists, Syndicalists
to take the three chief divisions into which the Socialist
movement has split up set forth theories and doctrines in
many ways fundamentally antagonistic to each other. Where
they all find common ground, is in a tendency, or per-
haps we should say, a mental atmosphere rather than in a
doctrine.
It is that common tendency or mental atmosphere we
would now determine.
In this strict sense of the word, any theory or system may
rightly be spoken of as Socialist, which substitutes for the
appeal to conscience the legislative action of the State or com-
munity, as the final factor in fixing the moral law, whether for
the individual or the community at large. It is not State
ownership so much as State sanction divorced from the funda-
mental liberty of individual conscience, which is the radical
formative quality in the Socialist movement from its first
inception. This State sanction may be vested in the Commune
or in a representative Parliament of the nation, or in a legal
organization of the workers : but in whatever way the author-
ity is formulated, individual conscience is superseded by the
common action of the community as the final rule of morals.
The ideal Socialist State or community not merely determines
conduct in accordance with the moral law, it creates the moral
law itself, for the acceptance of the individual.
150 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
It may be said that this after all is what State theory as
widely accepted, has tended towards for many past centuries :
it has already found a consistent expression in the militarism
of Prussia and in the liberalism of France. That is true; the
only difference being in the conditions under which this State
worship of the Socialist expresses itself. Socialism voices its
State religion in economic values, whilst Prussian autocracy
and French liberalism place upon the altar the soldier or the
politician : and it is probably for this reason that Socialism has
found its most congenial nurseries in France and Germany,
where the worship of the State has most logically molded the
social and political thoughts of the peoples. In fact, as be-
tween the theory of the omnipotent State, upon which both
Prussian militarism and French liberalism have thriven, and
the Socialist ideal, it is merely a question of replacing the ma-
chinery of State government, and of substituting one form of
moral servitude for another. On this ground the worshipper
of the omnipotent State, be he militarist or capitalist or by
whatever title he may label himself, is ethically at a disadvan-
tage in his opposition to the Socialist. For once it is conceded
that the law of the State or community is the supreme moral
law, the Socialist may well retort that the people at large have
the greater claim to make the laws and govern the State.
When, then, it is claimed that the Socialist tendency is towards
the creation of a servile State, the criticism is equally true of
most modern State theory and practice. In this matter the
Socialist has but too faithfully taken over the fundamental
principle of Stateship against which, in modern days, the
Catholic Church by its doctrines and, to a large extent, the
English-speaking peoples by an inherent instinct of personal
liberty, have alone protested.
But whilst the Socialist movement has taken to itself this
fundamental idea of modern theory : that the State is the final
arbiter of moral law, it is in tendency opposed to the national-
ism of the modern State. The French form of Socialism has
tended to break up the nation into small sectional bodies : the
commune and the syndicalist labor organization are its
products; the German form has tended, on the other hand,
towards the formation of a Socialist empire, overleaping
natural boundaries and welding together the workers of all
nations in one universal community: it was German inspira-
1921.] SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY 151
tion which founded the Internationalists. For the time being,
whilst they are welding its own forces into a more organic
whole, the Socialists may recognize the national unit as a
means towards an end. Thus they aim at capturing the gov-
erning power in the nation and utilizing it for their own pur-
poses: but the end itself is anti-national: the Socialist com-
munity recognizes no country, it claims the earth as its father-
land, and wherever it establishes itself, it aims at being the
final sovereignty.
Yet, again, in thus overriding national sovereignt}^, the
Socialist may well retort that he has but taken a leaf out of the
capitalist tyranny which has made national legislatures and
governments little else but parodies in the industrial and po-
litical world. Wars and international crises and the passing
or defeat of laws have been maneuvered on the Stock Ex-
change and under the dominance of capitalistic industry.
Parliaments have been the legislatures of the capitalists
rather than of the nation. The Socialist community is hardly,
if at all, more anti-national than the capitalist community
has tended to become in recent years. The modern growth of
the monopolies and international trusts follows the same path
as the anti-nationalism of the Socialist; so much so, that it
may be doubted whether in a frankly Socialistic condition of
society, the capitalist would not be even more free to exploit
the State for his own benefit, taking into consideration the
nimbleness of human ingenuity. As between the recent de-
velopments of capitalistic industry and the Socialist ideal,
there is little to be said on the score of anti-nationalism, except
that the Socialist confesses his aim more frankly. Thus, so
far as Capitalism and Socialism are concerned, the struggle
between them resolves itself into the question as to which shall
dominate in the control of the community, and there is no
higher principle at stake. For one who regards no other
issue than this, the struggle is on both sides a class war and
on ethical grounds one's sympathies might as well go with
the Socialist as with the capitalist.
Socialism, then, on the one side is born of the statecraft
which has molded the character of the modern State during
the past century, whilst on the other it sprang from a sympathy
witli the people who were borne down in the existing condi-
tions of the State. Hence, it is that much of the criticism
152 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
leveled against it on moral grounds tells just as fatally
against the existing State. If it be said that the Socialist tend-
ency is towards a servile State, the same can be said of the
tendency of State theory generally as accepted in most modern
States; if it is said that Socialism is anti-national, so are the
recent developments of Capitalism. And if again the Socialist
movement is denounced as being in tendency, secularist and
anti-Christian, there is surely little to choose between it and
the majority of modern governments.
The secularist character of the Socialist propaganda will
hardly be denied by Socialists themselves. Some may deny
that it is anti-Christian or anti-religious; and there can be no
doubt that with many Socialists their Socialism is backed by a
sincere religious feeling. Yet the movement as a whole has
tended towards secularism and has been manifestly anti-
clerical. As an objective religion with an organization and
authority, independent of the Socialist State, Christianity has
no place in the Socialist ideal. The Church may be tolerated
as a matter of expediency just as national institutions are in
practice tolerated by those Socialists who foresee that the
ideal Socialist State must pass through a period of revolution-
ary compromise. But the general tendency is in opposition to
dogmatic, institutional Christianity. 2 Yet even so it may be
doubted whether the Church would be worse off in practice,
in the Socialist State than it is under many modern Liberal
governments or autocracies which hold the State supreme.
In fact, at the beginning of a Socialist era the Church might,
not improbably, find itself allowed a greater liberty in detail
than in an autocratic or oligarchic Liberal State, such as
modern State theory has developed on the European conti-
nent: yet, sooner or later, the absolutist character of the So-
cialist State would assert itself. For whatever variations of
doctrine there may be amongst Socialists, they all work in the
general conviction that the ideal Socialist State or community
is the supreme moral authority and final arbiter of human
liberties. It is that conviction which makes an impassable
gulf between Socialism and the non-Socialist democratic
movement. Socialism is not merely an economic theory; it
1 Even so persuasive a Socialist ns Mr. Rnmsay MacDonald admits that in the
Socialist State, religious instruction must be relegated to the fireside and not taught
in the schools. (The Socialist Movement, p. 156.)
1921.] SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY 153
is a form of State worship; in the strictest and widest sense,
a State religion. For that reason, it is essentially opposed, in
character and tendency, to the ideal of a free democracy such
as is the main inspiration of social, economic and political
reform amongst the mass of the people in English-speaking
countries.
Taken as a matter of programmes, the two movements are
not always easily distinguishable: the difference lies in the
ultimate goals towards which they tend and the ethical spirit
in which their proposals are put forward. The one tends
towards freedom in the State, the other towards an absolutist
control of the State; the purely democratic movement pro-
claims that every man, be he wage-earner, employer or cap-
italist, has human rights which the State must recognize and
protect, but which are in no sense derived from the State
and over which, therefore, the State has no absolute authority;
the Socialists in company with the modern State theories of
the Roussean-Kantian type, make all rights and liberties to be
derived from the State and as having no sanction but the will
of the State.
Between the two movements, therefore, there is a more
ultimate point of issue than between Socialism and the
Capitalist monopoly, or between the Socialist State theory
and the theory which has gone to build up the autocracies and
bureaucracies of modern times. The issue between the pure
Democrat and the Socialist is the issue between human liberty
and State absolutism : at the ultimate point it is the same issue
as that between a free democracy and the militarist, capitalist
or political absolutism against which the Socialist himself con-
tends. Where points of resemblance show themselves in the
Democratic and Socialist programmes, is where they are both
in opposition to the evils which these other forms of absolutist
control have developed. In their opposition to the capitalist
abuse of industry, they must frequently denounce the same
abuses and put forward identical proposals of immediate
value, as for instance in the matter of a fair wage, of the
worker's share in the control of his labor, of the right to em-
ployment, and provision for old age and sickness. As against
militarist absolutism, both the pure Democrat and the Social-
ist are opposed in principle to conscript armies and wars of
conquest. There are less evident points of agreement when
154 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
it comes to dealing with the purely political bureaucracy, be-
cause there Socialism finds its more immediate kinship with
the State theory it would displace or capture.
But even when they are in agreement upon practical ques-
tions of immediate issue, the ethical backgrounds of their
action lend themselves to essential disagreement, simply be-
cause their ultimate goals are different: the one is working
towards freedom, the other towards State absolutism. This
disagreement shows itself very clearly in regard to their atti-
tudes towards the voluntary association in national life. The
non-Socialist reformer believes in the voluntary association
as the primary instrument for effecting and maintaining the
rights of men: on this ground he advocates Trade Unions.
The voluntary association is to him a natural propelling force
in securing right human conditions, because it rests directly
upon the sense of right in the individual, and he holds that
this individual sense of right, or conscience, is the immediate
basis of all moral character in the State and the ultimate
practical test of the validity of its laws. In the voluntary
association individual conscience has the greater opportunity
of asserting itself and is more surely developed: its corporate
will more nearly tends to express the individual will and,
consequently, has more of a moral than purely legal
character.
To the non-Socialist reformer that distinction between the
moral determination of human life and the purely legal, is of
the utmost value: it ultimately determines whether he is a
free man or a serf; and, consequently, the purely democratic
movement works as far as possible by means of the free
activity of the voluntary association rather than by legislation
from above. Legislation, he holds, should be a response to the
free demand of the people, acting individually or in voluntary
association; and, consequently, with him the voluntary asso-
ciation is an integral part of the State and, to a large extent,
the basis of State government. But the Socialist tendency is
to belittle the voluntary association, except as a phase in a
movement towards the legalist State association. Its attitude
towards Trade Unionism and the Cooperative movement are
illustrative of its attitude towards voluntary association gen-
erally. From the beginning, it has seen in these two manifes-
tations of the democratic tendency, at once a challenge to the
1921. J SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY 155
Socialist ideal and a likely means towards the realization of
Socialism.
On their original lines the Trade Union and the Cooper-
ative movement were essentially anti-Socialist, since they
voiced the ideals of self-helps and free association, but
in so far as they were opposed to capitalist monopoly there
was certain immediate affinity of purpose between them and
the Socialist movement. The Socialist has seized upon this to
capture Trade Unionism and the Cooperative movement; and
his policy has been to ally himself with these movements in
opposition to the existing order; but wherever he has become
a controlling influence, these movements have lost their
original voluntarism, and have come to look more to State
initiative or to surrender control to the organizing machine.
The relation between the purely democratic Labor movement
and the Socialist organization has been much the same as the
relation between free capital and the capitalist monopoly,
in which the individual becomes the mere creature of the or-
ganization. So under Socialist influence, Trade Unionism is
showing a tendency to exploit the worker in the interest of a
political theory, and to gag any expression of individual
opinion which rejects that theory. Fortunately for the cause
of political and economic freedom, the greater number of the
workers in English-speaking countries are not yet ready to be
so exploited. The demand amongst Trade Unionists for
greater decentralization, though in some cases it represents a
reversion to the Communist ideal as opposed to the imperial-
ist International, is in many instances a revolt against Social-
ism itself in favor of a free democratic control.
The crucial point, then, upon which the non-Socialist
democratic tendency and the Socialist are in fundamental
divergence, is in regard to the character of State authority and
control : it is a recrudescence in new values of the old struggle
between democratic freedom and State absolutism. But for
that very reason the pure democratic movement is at a certain
disadvantage face to face with the Socialist: for in almost all
countries at the present time the political and economic
systems play into the Socialist's hands. The tendency to
State worship, which German militarism and French liberal-
ism have fostered, have prepared the way for the acceptance
by the people of a form of State absolutism which promises
156 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
larger rewards to the people at large; whilst the growth of
capitalist monopolies and trusts have led many to accept the
principles of a State control of capital. If absolutism and
tyranny are to be the rule, there is little to be said ethically
for the authority of the oligarchy as against a democratic
tyranny, whilst quite naturally the workers and the people at
large will be led to contend for a tyranny on a wider basis.
It is the line of least resistance. Nor can there be any doubt
as to the ultimate issue, if the political and economic struggle
is to be waged between the Socialist and other forms of State
absolutism and capitalist monopoly. The spiritual forces in
the world today are running too strongly against the prevalent
systems to allow them an ultimate victory: and as between
them and Socialism, this must eventually prevail, unless polit-
ical and economic society is molded upon the lines of a free
democracy which will give to every man and class of men the
sense of real freedom secured by the moral sense of the com-
munity, and protected against the tyrannies of wealth and
political power.
Such a democratic consummation would mean a far
more fundamental transformation in the governing idealism
of the community than would the Socialist triumph and,
consequently, spell fundamental changes in every depart-
ment of social life. The right of private property would
be placed upon a different moral basis than that which
has been accepted in the modern industrial world, with the
result that wealth would be more evenly distributed; social
position and advancement would correspond more definitely
to a man's real worth and his service to the community; po-
litical power would more widely be controlled by the com-
munity at large. The change would be fundamental; but it
would be fundamental simply in reference to the abuses of
wealth and power, which have been fostered under the
tyranny of the modern European State theory and the present
developments of the capitalist industry. Working directly
by way of remedying actual abuses, the change wrought by a
free democratic movement is evolutionary rather than revo-
lutionary, and is derived from the application of moral prin-
ciple and the awakened conscience : and it retains its freedom
and moral quality just in proportion as it adverts closely to
ethical principle and subordinates political and economic
1921. J SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY 157
theories to that principle. The Socialist tendency, on the
other hand, like the modern State theory and capitalist
monopoly, would create its ethical laws out of its preconceived
political and economic ideals.
But the choice today, which we have to face, is not be-
tween a radical change in the social system and no change.
The whole social system both politically and economically is
in a very vortex of transformations, and the element of change
has been at work with gathering force and intensity for years
past. There is no escape from it. The great choice of the
moment is between political and economic servitude on the
one hand and real freedom on the other. The servitude may
be that of the present bureaucratic State or of the capitalist
monopoly or eventually of the Socialist community, which
will reap where political bureaucracy and capitalist monopoly
have sown, unless our social life is quickly reformed on the
basis of a more human freedom dictated by ethical principle.
It is not now a question between an old-time conservatism and
what are called the forces of progress. The old-time con-
servatism no longer exists as a force in the world; it has been
disrupted by its own fosterings. Capitalist monopoly has no
more consideration for the rights of private property than
has the Socialist: perhaps less than many Socialists. State
bureaucracy has little regard for the old landmarks of polit-
ical life, except as they serve its own purpose. The old con-
servatism is dead both politically and economically. The one
force which stands yet against the consummation of a servile
State is the instinct for personal liberty, which in these days
has found its most insistent voice in the non-Socialist Labor
organizations.
Hence, the future question, which all who love freedom
and view with suspicion an absolutist State control must
clearly answer for themselves, is this: are they willing to
drive these non-Socialist organizations into the camp of So-
cialism by a blind refusal to consider Labor claims because
these claims at first sight are a challenge to the existing con-
ditions of things? With many this refusal comes from an
ignorance of what the existing conditions of things actually
are. They are hypnotized by words which at one time had a
real significance in the conception of freedom and the free
State, but which have lost that significance in the process of
158 SOCIALISM OR DEMOCRACY [Nov.,
change which has taken place. "The rights of capital" is such
a phrase : but in the existing conditions it is not "the rights of
capital" which is the impelling force of the Labor revolt, but
the abuses of capital in its developments into trusts and
monopolies, and in its denial of elementary human conditions
to Labor itself. One of the most imperative needs today is to
review words and phrases with regard to their actual signif-
icance in the contentions which now are taking place. An-
other need is to take long views, and not look merely to the
appearances of the moment: since today we are in a condition
of flux with the old landmarks rapidly disappearing. If any-
thing which has been of real vital value to us in the past is to
be kept, it will only be by proving its moral worth amidst the
new conditions we have to face.
For that reason, if for none other, the Catholic body and
all who believe in a Christian State and Christian society,
cannot afford to stand by either in hostility or apathy, whilst
the non-Socialist Labor organizations are contending for the
larger freedom of the workers and a more humane condition
of labor. They are really contending for something more than
the freedom of Labor; ultimately they are waging a fight for a
more moral condition and greater liberty in society at large.
They are fighting the capitalist monopoly and, incidentally,
State bureaucracy in the cause of human freedom, as against
the Socialist tendency to fasten a new monopoly and a new
bureaucracy upon society. And in this they are, at least in-
directly, fighting for the cause of Christianity itself. It is not
the free democracy, but the absolutist State, under whatever
form it may appear, and the State controlled by the non-
moral forces of a trade monopoly or anti-national societies,
which are the ultimate secular denials of the Church, as they
are of human liberty. In the non-Socialist Labor movement,
Christianity has its most natural and strongest secular ally
at the present time, even as in the thirteenth century the cause
of religion went together with the cause of national liberty in
the political, economic and social struggles of that time. What
the non-Socialist Labor movement needs today if it is not to
be caught up into the Socialist propaganda, is a clear defini-
tion of the ethical values of its claims : and that can be given
only by a frank and sympathetic cooperative between the re-
ligious forces of the Christian people and the secular tend-
1921.] BART1MEUS 159
encies of a free democracy. Only in that way can we hope to
escape from the domination of an anti-Christian absolutist
State.
The immediate danger is that unless such a frank alliance
is brought about, the non-Socialist workers will be led to
see in the Socialist movement the only means of main-
taining themselves against an unreasoning opposition on the
part of employers, or the grinding machine of the capitalist
company. In that case both human liberty and Christianity
will suffer. Happily, "the Social Problem" is looming larger
in the forefront of Christian ethics and in the religious out-
look of the Christian people. From an indefinite sympathy
with the worker in the hard conditions of his life, we are pro-
ceeding to a more definite understanding and sympathy with
his claims: in the further development of this instinctive al-
liance lies the hope of the future for those who desire a free
and Christian democracy.
BARTIMEUS.
BY LAURA SIMMONS.
I KNOW I met Him on the fields of doom;
In answer to my spirit's agony
In fetid trench I glimpsed Him; I can swear
He passed me in the wind a Shape, a sigh
Of sorrowing; yet here, on busy streets
Wherein men scheme for power, He walks no more;
Here have I lost Him now in paths of peace,
Secure from harm and fearful sacrifice!
THE LAST CRUSADE.
BY A. I. DU P. COLEMAN.
N the seventh of last month the world was going
on much as usual. Some men were watching the
stock markets; others were busy hour after hour
with subtle political combinations, or following
intently the closing struggles of the season in the
national game, or absorbed in the cares of their professions.
Few, perhaps, gave a thought to that morning exactly three
centuries and a half before, when, as the sun rose over Greece,
a stately fleet of more than two hundred galleys moved for-
ward under a banner, which bore the figure of the Crucified,
to attack and vanquish a still larger fleet that flaunted the
Crescent of Islam.
And yet the three hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the
battle of Lepanto is a day which has an interest not only for
students of political history. It comes with a particular appeal
to us who should be specially touched by any of the great
moments in the never-ending struggle between the cause of
Our Lord Christ and the forces of unbelief and evil in the
world we live in. Modern people who, if they have taken any
interest in European politics, have been accustomed to hear
Turkey spoken of as "the Sick Man of Europe," kept alive,
indeed, only by repeated medical consultations who have
seen the question raised in the last five years whether there
should be anything at all left of the Turkish Empire in Europe
can perhaps realize with difficulty that the wave of early
Mohammedan conquest in the West was checked by Charles
Martel when it had come as far north in France as the neigh-
borhood of Tours (not much further from Paris than the
Germans were), and that nearly a thousand years later the
Turks were still encamped beneath the walls of Vienna,
threatening the Holy Roman Empire, of whose head Vienna
was then the seat.
Throughout the greater part of these centuries the Moham-
medan invaders were steadfastly opposed by one abiding
champion by the one earthly power which (to use Cardinal
Newman's words) "is something more than earthly, and
1921.] THE LAST CRUSADE 161
which, while it dies in the individual, for he is human, is
immortal in its succession, for it is Divine." Always, he says,
the Holy See has "pointed at the Turks as an object of alarm
for all Christendom, in a way in which it had marked out
neither Tartars nor Saracens. It denounced, not merely an
odious outlying deformity, painful simply to the moral sight
and scent, but an energetic evil, an aggressive, ambitious,
ravenous foe, in whom foulness of life and cruelty of policy
were methodized by system, consecrated by religion, propa-
gated by the sword."
And so, when the storm clouds were gathering thicker in
the East in the second half of the sixteenth century, the Vicar
of Christ, sitting aloft in his watch tower, saw the danger as his
predecessors had seen it before him. Speaking of the time when,
in the eleventh century, the Seljukian Turks had come out of
the desert and fought their way westward to the neighborhood
of Constantinople, it is not Cardinal Newman, but his agnostic
brother who says: "The See of Rome had not forgotten, if
Europe had, how deadly and dangerous a war Charles Martel
and his Franks had had to wage against the Moors from Spain.
. . . On the whole, it would seem that to the Romish Church
we have been largely indebted for that union between Euro-
pean nations, without which Mohammedan invasion might
perhaps not have been repelled." It was St. Gregory VII. who
suggested in 1074 the idea of a crusade against the unbeliever,
which Urban II., twenty years later, brought to its first accom-
plishment; and though it is the fashion in certain circles to
sneer at the Crusades as a quixotic failure, they saved Con-
stantinople and placed Europe in security for another three
hundred years.
But in the sixteenth century the sea power of the Turks
was an increasing menace to the whole of the Mediterranean,
which was still the main highway of international commerce.
The coasts of Italy were never safe. "At night the sound of
cannon would sometimes be heard from afar in the vintage
season. The great watch towers by the sea were firing their
artillery to give warning to Rome of some Turkish raid, and
in the morning some poor village would be found wanting in
cattle and maidens and men." It is the sober judgment of
historians that in the sixteenth century the Turks possessed
a greater offensive power than any single Christian State.
VOL. CX1V. 11
162 THE LAST CRUSADE [Nov.,
Could the whole of Christendom have been once heartily
united, a different story might have been told. But its divi-
sions and its jealousies were so deep seated that, as a rule, a
cautious and calculating alliance, which endured but for a
time, was the best it had to oppose to the passionate unity of
Islam.
Self-preservation finally drove the southern States to-
gether. Even mercantile Venice, which since the beginning
of the century had seen its power gradually decline, was ready
to grasp at any offer of help. The great island of Cyprus,
which, after three centuries of the rule of its own Christian
kings (of the crusading house of Lusignan), had been for
almost another century a possession of the Republic, was now
seriously threatened by the ambition of the new Sultan. Selim
II. came to his throne, by the death of his father, Soliman the
Magnificent, at the same time as the humble Dominican friar
was raised to the throne of St. Peter under the name of Pius V.
He stretched out his hand to add the island to his dominions,
secure of his game. The alarmed Venetian envoy threatened
him with the wrath of Europe; but the Grand Vizier answered
with a sneer: "I know how much you can depend on your
Christian princes," and the preparations for conquest went on.
If the great victory of which I am writing had had no other
result but to inspire Mr. Chesterton with his glorious ballad
to my way of thinking, easily his most masterly achievement
in verse it would still have been a thing for which to be
thankful. Go and read the poem, if you do not know it al-
ready, and you will be stirred with the emotion which men
felt in Catholic Christendom when they knew that the forces
of the infidel had been shattered. Color, and sound, and mean-
ing are all there, from the splendid beginning:
White founts falling in the Courts of the Sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,
It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips,
For the inmost sea of all the earth is shaken with his ships.
They have dared the white republics up the capes of Italy,
They have dashed the Adriatic round the Lion of the Sea,
And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,
And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross.
1921.] THE LAST CRUSADE 163
But alas, the call fell on many ears that were willfully deaf.
It was not likely that Elizabeth would listen to the Pope who,
a few months earlier, had excommunicated her and absolved
her subjects from their allegiance. France was doubly hin-
dered from joining in the work by its jealousy and dread of
Spain, and by the fear of Huguenot enemies within the gates;
nor was its king, a feeble youth of twenty, not long married,
and full of toys and whimsies, the man to kindle at the
thought of a high emprise. Philip II. himself was but half-
hearted in an undertaking that was for the general good of
Christendom, not for the aggrandizement of Spain. He had
been pitiless but a year or two before in stamping out the
embers of Mohammedan life in his own western kingdom; but
he was not anxious to grapple with the full force of the Otto-
man empire perhaps only, if he won, to preserve the most
powerful commercial rivals of his people.
It is to Venice, however, that the chief discredit attaches
for the long persistence of the Ottoman blot on the face of the
European world. In the height of her power she had had both
the means and the opportunity to wipe off this disgrace. It
was by trying to save her life that she lost it. The name which
Napoleon contemptuously flung at the English "a nation of
shopkeepers" would have fitted much more closely both
Venice and Genoa. The Republic of St. Mark craved the aid
of Spain, but was by no means anxious to see the power of
Spain increased in the Mediterranean. Modern research has
revealed the discreditable fact that at the very time, six months
before Lepanto, when their ambassadors were earnestly
pleading for help in Rome and in Madrid, the prudent burgh-
ers were also parleying with the Sultan in the endeavor to
find a peaceful solution of their differences with him.
For fourteen long months the diplomatic conversations
went on. Meanwhile the Turks were not idle. They were
steadily battering at the defences of Cyprus, the saving of
which was the principal object of Venetian policy. They
landed an army of sixty thousand, and took Nicosia, the
capital, after a siege of more than a month. Fire and sword
did their work. Finally, in May, 1571, the unremitting efforts
of the Holy Father brought about the signing of an alliance
in which he formed the link between lukewarm Spain and
desperate Venice. Philip II. was to bear three parts of the
164 THE LAST CRUSADE [Nov.,
cost of the expedition, the Republic two, and the Pope one.
Spain, as the largest contributor, was to have the privilege of
naming the captain-general; and Philip's choice fell on his
half-brother, Don John of Austria.
It is round the name of this gallant young prince (he was
but twenty-four years old) that the high and heroic associa-
tions of the crusade cluster; and fitly does it ring like a refrain
through the whole of Chesterton's ballad:
But Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.
Don John calling through the blast and the eclipse,
Crying with the trumpet, the trumpet of his lips,
Trumpet that sayeth ha!
Domino gloria!
Don John of Austria
Is shouting to the ships.
Even now, with such a leader chosen, the task of prepar-
ation was a long one; and before the fleet was ready to move,
the year-long siege of Famagosta, the chief trading city of
Cyprus, had ended in barbarous destruction and slaughter, the
insolent Moslems taking no heed of their plighted word to the
brave defenders. Now indeed the shipyards and arsenals of
Spain and Italy rang with feverish activity, that this loss might
be avenged since it had not been prevented. On the fourteenth
of August Don John received at Naples, from the hands of
Cardinal Granvelle, the consecrated banner of the League, em-
blazoned with a large crucifix above, and below the arms of
the allied powers. The rendezvous of the entire fleet was ap-
pointed at Messina, which the commander-in-chief reached on
the twenty-fifth.
Every day some fresh reinforcement arrived. The Duke
of Savoy sent three ships under Andrea Provanna, which
fought at Lepanto until they were shattered hulks. Cosimo
de' Medici, newly created Grand Duke of Tuscany by the Pope,
made his contribution, and the knights of his new naval order
of St. Stephen won distinction in the battle. Still more valu-
able was the aid of the Knights of Malta, trained by a long
struggle with the infidel. The feudatories of the Pope, the
Dukes of Ferrara, Parma and Urbino, and the republic of
Genoa and Lucca did their share.
From many a land, too, came volunteers to join the
1921.] THE LAST CRUSADE 165
crusade. There was hardly a noble house of Spain or Italy
which had not some member serving in the fleet. It is said
there came even from far-off England a sea fighter who was to
lose his life twenty years later in a battle which the genius of
Tennyson has rendered almost as famous as Lepanto the last
fight of the Revenge. This I have not been able to verify,
though it would be pleasant to believe it; apparently, in that
year Sir Richard Grenville was sitting in the House of Com-
mons as member for his native county of Cornwall. But there
is no question that a still more celebrated man (of the same
age as the captain-general) was in the thick of the fight. In
the prologue to the second part of Don Quixote, Cervantes
recalls the day, and exclaims with fervor that he would not
for all his wounds have missed the glory of being present on
the great day. It is hard not to pause for a moment and think
what the world would have lost if the Turkish bullet which
cost him his left hand had taken a course a few inches to one
side.
Though, as a statesman and a sovereign, Pius V. did all he
could to strengthen the arm of flesh, as a saint he knew that
the real decision lay in the will of God; and Him accordingly
he besought in fervent prayer. He appointed a triduum in
Rome for the success of the Christian arms. He spoke again
and again to Our Lady. He wrote to Don John at Messina that
if, relying on Divine rather than on human help, they attacked
the enemy, God would not be wanting to His own cause.
When the time drew near for the decisive issue, he passed a
whole night and day in fasting and prayer.
Old-fashioned notions, some would say as out of date as
the galleys rowed by sweating slaves which advanced to meet
the Christian forces. Yet the one great commander whose
genius will forever be remembered when men think of the
triumph of the good cause three years ago this month, held
and holds the same old-fashioned view. In the darkest days
of 1918 an English priest wrote to Marshal Foch to tell him
how the children had been going to Communion for his inten-
tion; and the generalissimo of the Allied armies replied: "The
act of faith which the children of Great Britain have made for
my intention has profoundly touched me. Please express my
gratitude to them, and beg them to continue their prayers for
the victory of our just cause." And later, when the sky had
166 THE LAST CRUSADE [Nov.,
begun to clear, and the temptation to pride might have been
irresistible to a lesser man, he wrote once more: "I am still
depending on the prayers of the children. Ask them to go to
Communion for me again and again." The world turned to
Ferdinand Foch as the one man who could save it and he,
with the whole terrible burden on his shoulders, found
strength to carry it by kneeling day by day before the Taber-
nacle in some quiet church. Nor has he changed his mind
since. Two months ago, when he revisited the Jesuit college
at Metz where he made his studies as a lad, and people
thronged around him with laudatory utterances about his part
in the mighty combat, these were his simple words : "We suc-
ceeded, thanks to God. But let us not cease to pray well."
Thus, when the preparations were all but completed for
the sailing of Don John's fleet, a Papal nuncio came to Messina
to proclaim a jubilee, with the same indulgences that had
once been granted to those who shed their blood for the deliv-
erance of the Holy Sepulchre; and it is said that after a three
days' fast every man in the mighty host, from the captain-
general down, approached the Sacraments.
At last the orders were given to weigh anchor; and on the
sixteenth of September the great fleet, "unrivaled by any
which had rode upon these waters since the days of imperial
Rome," sailed in quest of the foe. The words of the greatest
Italian poet then living (I give them in the Elizabethan version
of Fairfax, which is the only way to quote Tasso for those who
cannot read his Italian), though written of an earlier crusade,
might seem to have been inspired by this majestic departure:
Great Neptune grieved underneath the load
Of ships, hulks, galleys, barks, and brigantines;
In all the mid-earth sea was left no road
Wherein the Pagan his bold sails untwines.
Spread was the huge Armado wide and broad
From Venice, Genes, and towns which them confines.
For a fortnight they cruised in search of the Turkish fleet,
and finally drew near it at the entrance of the Gulf of Lepanto,
on the western coast of Greece. Had there been time for such
meditations, a learned volunteer might have been thinking
that fifty-five miles to the northward the greatest naval battle
of antiquity, that of Actium, had been fought; that just twice
1921.] THE LAST CRUSADE 167
as far to the eastward, the Asiatic civilization had gone down
in defeat more than two thousand years before when it met
the Western in the battle of Salamis. The gift of prophecy
might have told him that two hundred and fifty years later the
Turks would be once more defeated at sea a hundred miles to
the south in the decisive battle of Navarino, which finally freed
Greece from the Ottoman yoke; and almost in sight from
where he lay would have been the little town of Missolonghi,
where Byron accomplished the best deed of his unhappy
career in giving his life for the cause of liberty.
The description of the battle may be read at great length
in the French of Admiral Jurien de la Graviere's monograph,
or in the two sumptuous volumes of Sir William Stirling Max-
well's life of Don John, or in the stately prose of our own
Prescott's Philip the Second. I can but give the barest outline
of it here.
It began with the discovery of the entire Ottoman fleet
soon after sunrise. Don John ran up the great standard and
fired a gun as a signal to engage. The principal captains came
on board his flagship, the powerful Real, to receive their last
instructions. There were still some who, whether from the
caution of age or a strong suspicion that the King of Spain
would be better pleased if they avoided a decisive battle, ques-
tioned the advisability of attacking. Don John had a short
answer for them: "Gentlemen," he said, "this is the time for
combat, not for counsel."
The battle line extended for three miles from north to
south, with Don John in the centre, supported by Colonna, the
Papal commander, and Veniero, the Venetian. The right was
held by the Genoese Gianandrea Doria, in the service of
Spain; the left by the Venetian Barbarigo. A reserve of thirty-
five galleys was under the orders of the brave Marquis of
Santa Cruz. A rapid visit to all parts of the line by Don John
in a swift sailing vessel, a last fervent prayer throughout the
Christian host and the fight was on.
For a while the advantage seemed to be with the Turks.
Cheluk Bey attempted, with a prospect of success, to turn the
Christian left, which lay as close to the shore as it dared. On
the other wing the dey of Algiers, a Calabrian renegade known
as Aluch or Uluch Ali (or Achiali the name is spelled in a
dozen different ways) tried the same maneuver. Doria stood
168 THE LAST CRUSADE [Nov.,
off towards the open sea to forestall it, and in so doing left a
gap wide enough for the alert leader of corsairs to profit by it
and come near surrounding him. Several of Doria's galleys
were sunk and the great Capitana of Malta captured. It used
to be said that the Genoese admiral had made an error of
judgment; but unhappily modern research has written a more
damning charge against his name, and placed it beyond a
doubt that he left the gap purposely, in order to facilitate the
escape of Uluch Ali, with whom Philip II. had once been in
negotiation. The name of Doria had already an ill-omened
connection with the Turkish war: in 1538 the great-uncle of
this man, commanding a Spanish contingent, had contributed
to the loss of another battle under circumstances quite as
questionable.
But Santa Cruz brought up the reserves; and in the centre
Don John, fighting like a crusader of old, engaged and finally
sank the flagship of the Turkish admiral. The loss of their
commander was the final blow to the Mohammedan hosts.
After four hours of the bloodiest fighting, they broke and
abandoned the day, with losses which it is impossible to cal-
culate exactly, but which must have run to at least thirty thou-
sand men and the greater part of their ships. Had it not been
for Doria, the victory would have been overwhelming and
complete; but Uluch Ali, with wonderful seamanship, brought
off most of his squadron and lived to fight another day.
Far away in Rome, as the seventh of October drew to an
end, the Pope was talking business with one of his officials.
Suddenly he broke off, went to the window, and looked up long
into the sky. Then he came back and said in tones of deep
emotion: "This is no time for business: go, return thanks to
the Lord God. In this very hour our fleet has engaged the
Turkish, and is victorious."
God, in whom Pius trusted, had done His part. The strong
arms of brave soldiers had done theirs and chiefly the high-
hearted leader of whom the Pope said, in the words of the
Evangelist, when the details of the battle reached him : "There
was a man sent from God, whose name was John." All south-
ern Europe gave itself up to delirious joy. Church bells rang
peal upon peal; bonfires blazed on the hilltops; men embraced
each other in the streets, giving thanks for the lifting of the
shadow of continual menace which had hung over them so
1921.] THE LAST CRUSADE 169
long. Our own memories of three years ago will enable us
easily to fill out in imagination the details of the scene.
And alas, because human nature has not changed in three
hundred years, what followed is only too like what we have
seen ourselves. We know to what heights of enthusiastic de-
votion the Allied nations rose in our War, stimulated by the
supreme appeal. It seemed that a new age had dawned upon
the world that envy and greed and petty self-seeking had
been burned away in the fiery furnace. But we are coming
sadly to feel that it is not so; and it was not so after the great
deliverance of Lepanto. In the weighing and measuring of the
booty those who had fought as brothers in a great cause fell
out and almost came to blows. Three weeks later, Don Mar-
cantonio Colonna, commander of the Papal squadron, wrote to
the Doge of Venice : "Only by a miracle and the great goodness
of God was it possible for us to fight such a battle: and it is
just as great a miracle that the prevailing greed and covetous-
ness have not flung us upon one another in a second battle."
Nor on a larger scale were things much better. The
League, which was to have been a permanent alliance, ham-
mering away year after year until , the Turks were utterly
crushed, fell to pieces before the end of the next year. Pius V.,
the only member whose motives were lofty and disinterested,
died in the following May, exhausted by his long labors;
and a year later Venice made a humiliating peace with the
Porte.
Yet, looking back through the long perspective of the cen-
turies, we can see that the rejoicings of Christendom were not
unjustified. Though, by superhuman efforts, the Turks were
able to put on the sea the next summer a fleet of a hundred
and fifty galleys, their power in the Mediterranean had been
irretrievably broken. The legend of their invincibility on the
water, which had counted not a little in their triumphs, was
gone forever. Now that Admiral Mahan's epoch-making books
have been universally accepted as the last word on the sub-
ject of the influence of sea power, no argument is needed to
show that the decisive downfall of the naval strength of the
Turks (in spite of its delusive appearance of revival just as
happened after Salamis) was the death-blow to any hopes
they might have entertained of pushing their conquests
further to the west. Thenceforth, they might inflict damage;
170 THE LAST CRUSADE [Nov.,
they might annoy, as the Barbary corsairs were annoying us
Americans only a hundred years ago : but no longer did they
loom as a shape of dread, casting a gigantic shadow over the
Christian world.
This is not all ancient history. The Church remembers
God's deliverance, if we have forgotten, and still celebrates
her feasts of thankfulness. Eighteen months after the battle
on the first Sunday of October, Pius V., having gone to his
rest, Gregory XIII. established the festival of the Most Holy
Rosary for all churches in which there was an altar dedicated
to our lady of the Rosary. Clement XL (who canonized Pius
V.) extended the feast to the whole Church in thanksgiving for
Prince Eugene's victory over the Turks at Peterwardein in
1716, as Innocent XL had extended that of the Holy Name of
Mary in memory of Sobieski's defeat of the same implacable
foes near Vienna in 1683. And Pius V. himself added to the
titles, drawn from Hebrew poetry and Christian experience,
under which we invoke our Blessed Mother the name Auxiliiim
Christianorum, by which her children still confidently call her
in their various tongues all over the world. So, in this age of
the marvels of material force, we are constantly reminded
that (as Newman puts it in his mysterious symbolic poem) :
The giants are failing, the Saints are alive.
WHY GOD BECAME MAN.
BY LESLIE J. WALKER, S.J., M.A.
V.
THE INDWELLING SPIRIT.
T is of the very essence of the Christian revelation
that it was made in and through a person, the
Person of Christ, of Whom His disciples had im-
mediate experience, Whom they came gradually
to recognize as prophet, Messias, and, finally, as
God Incarnate. What Christ said was only part of His mes-
sage. He did not dictate it. It was lived. It was Himself, in
Whom the Father was revealed.
Consequently, when Christ ascended into heaven, the
ground of man's certainty had gone. God was no longer man-
ifest, no longer dwelt amongst us as a personal Teacher.
We are so familiar with the Gospels, their language is so
intimate, their realism so vivid, that we are apt to forget that
He Whom they describe no longer dwells visibly in our midst.
Yet this is the fact. The Son, through Whom the Father be-
came manifest, has returned to His Father. That experience
of God, which began with Christ's coining, and which alone
can link knowledge with certainty, ceased with Christ's ascen-
sion into heaven.
Had Christ not foreseen this event, nor made provision
for it, His disappearance would have staggered the Apostles
scarcely less than His death had done. It was He Whom they
were to preach, and upon Him they relied both for knowl-
edge and power. Whence, He being absent, was to come this
knowledge and power? They had known Him but for three
short years. Much that He had said they had already for-
gotten, many things they had misunderstood, much that He
might have said, He had not said at all. They retained of Him
a memory, in some respects vivid, but in others already falter-
ing, and liable, as memory must be, to distortion when its
172 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
vividness should fail. Was this to be the sole basis of their
work, the sole ground on which Christianity should rest, the
sole link that was to remain between God and His creatures,
once the Son had returned whence He came?
If so, Christianity would be little better than any other
form of religion. The end which man all along has sought
would still remain unrealized. Knowledge and certainty, real-
ity and experience, would still remain apart.
But it was not so. The revelation of Him Who is was not
yet perfect. In Christ was made manifest the Father, with
Whom the Son was one in nature, in knowledge and in power.
But God is three in person, and the Third Person as yet was
not manifest. Therefore was the Spirit promised, and there-
fore was it necessary that the Son should cease to be manifest
that the Spirit might be revealed.
What does the term "spirit" signify?
In the Old Testament it is when the Spirit moves over the
waters that light breaks forth, waters are divided, chaos gives
place to order and form. 1 .It is spirit that in a special sense
animates man, as distinguished from the rest of creation; 2
gives life to his bones and his flesh; 3 goes forth from him at
death. 4 Everywhere is desolation till the Spirit be poured
forth from on high; 5 but when the Spirit is sent forth all is
created and the face of the earth renewed. 6 Man, too, needs to
be strengthened with a right spirit, a holy spirit, a perfect
spirit. 7
Especially does the Spirit operate in God's chosen serv-
ants. Joseph, full of it, interprets Pharaoh's dream. 8 The
seventy elders prophesy in the spirit of Moses, which rests
on them. 9 Josue, in whom is the Spirit, is chosen as Moses'
successor. 10 It is when the Spirit of the Lord comes upon him
that Gideon foretells the delivery of Israel; 11 when It comes
strongly upon Samson that he kills the lion and breaks his
own bonds. 12 Samuel promises that the Spirit of the Lord
shall cause Saul to prophesy and to become another man. 13
When it comes upon Saul he is filled with anger against the
Genesis i. 2 et seq., cf. Psalm xxxii. 6.
Genesis vi. 3; Job xii. 10; Isaias xxxi. 3.
Ezechiel xxxvii. 8-11; Numbers xvi. 22.
Genesis vi. 3; Psalm cxlv. 4. Isaias xxxii. 14, 15.
Psalm ciii. 29, 30. Psalm 1. 12-14; cxlii. 10.
Genesis xli. 38. 'Numbers xi. 16-29. 10 Numbers xxvii. 18.
Judges vi. 34. > 2 Judges xiv. 6; xv. 14. 13 1 Kings x. 6.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 173
Ammonites, and defeats them in battle. 14 When Samuel
anoints David the Spirit of the Lord comes upon him from
that day forward, but departs from Saul, who is troubled with
an evil spirit, which David drives out by playing on his harp. 15
Evidently, the Spirit of the Lord is a power, a something that
possesses man, and enables him to do deeds which otherwise
he could not have done.
The Spirit is given, however, not for the benefit of the
individual, but to the individual for the benefit of the race.
It gives power for deliverance, and for prophecy, which prom-
ises deliverance and prepares the way for it. Micheas, filled
with the strength of the Spirit, declares unto Jacob his wicked-
ness and unto Israel his sin. 16 Having entered Ezechiel, the
Spirit tells him what he shall say to the children of Israel,
and grants to him visions of different places and future
events. 17 A like power is conveyed to Jeremias in the promise
that God will be with him. 18 A more abundant outpouring
of the Spirit is to accompany the coming of the Messias. A
flower shall rise up out of the root of Jesse, and the Spirit of
the Lord shall rest upon Him : the spirit of wisdom and under-
standing, the spirit of counsel and fortitude, the spirit of
knowledge and of godliness. It is the gift of the Spirit to
the servant of Jahweh that shall enable Him to fulfill His mis-
sion and to bring forth judgment to the Gentiles. 19 Upon His
stock shall the Spirit be poured out, and a new heart and
spirit be created in the Children of Israel, which shall cause
them to walk in the commandments of God and to observe His
judgments; 20 upon sons and daughters, young men and old,
servants and handmaids, shall the Spirit be poured. 21
The connotation of the term "spirit" in the Gospels is
similar, but its use far more frequent. It is used of evil and
unclean spirits which possess men and dominate their actions
and life, 22 or which inhibit their speech and cause weakness; 23
of man's soul, 24 especially of its more spiritual activities, 25
14 1 Kings xi. 6, et seq. " 1 Kings xvi. 13-23. " Micheas iii. 8.
"Ezechiel ii. 2; iii. 12, 14, 24; xi. 1, 5, 24. "Jeremias i. 7-9.
19 Isaias xi. 1, 2; xlii. 1.
"Isaias xliv. 3, 4; Ezechiel xi. 19, 20; xxxvi. 26, 27; xxxvii. 14; xxxix. 29.
21 Joel ii. 28, 29.
"Matthew viii. 16, x. 1, xii. 43; Mark i. 23, 26, 27, iii. 11, 30, v. 2, 8, 12, 13, vi.
7, vii. 25, ix. 19, 24; Luke iv. 36, vi. 18, vii. 21, viii. 2, 29, ix. 39, 43, x. 20, xi. 24, 26.
28 Mark ix. 16, 24; Luke xiii. 11.
Matthew xxvii. 50 ; Luke xxiii. 46, viii. 55 ; John xix. 30.
23 Matthew v. 3; Mark ii. 8, viii. 12; Luke i. 47, ix. 55; John xi. 33, xiii. 21.
174 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
as contrasted with those of the flesh, 26 once of a "ghost." 2T
The common element in all these uses is that of a spiritual
power which animates man and controls his activities for
good or for evil. It may be man's own spirit, his soul, or an
alien spirit which possesses him, hut in either case it connotes
something personal. Evil spirits recognize the Messiahship
of Jesus more readily than do men.
More particularly is the term "spirit" used in connection
with Christ and with persons concerned in His advent: six
times out of twenty-four in Mark, nineteen out of thirty-six
in Luke, twelve out of eighteen in Matthew, nineteen out of
twenty-three in John. It is in the Spirit that David calls the
Christ, Lord. 28 It is of the Holy Spirit and Mary that Christ is
born. 29 Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth blesses Mary,
and Zachary the Lord God of Israel. 30 Simeon converses with
the Holy Spirit. 31 John the Baptist is filled with Him from his
mother's womb. 32 Upon Christ at His Baptism the Spirit of
God descends. 33 It is by the Spirit that He is driven into the
desert; 34 in the power of the Spirit that He returns; 35 by the
same power that He casts out devils; 36 in the Spirit that He
prays. 37 In Christ, therefore, is the prophecy of Isaias real-
ized. 38
This Holy Spirit is clearly a Divine Spirit, and yet is other
than Christ, at least in His human nature, since He is born
of it, and it comes upon Him from without. Its functions are
similar to those ascribed to the Spirit in the Old Testament. It
is intimately bound up with Christ's mission; is a Spirit of
power, and also a Spirit which gives knowledge and under-
standing. But it is still given only to individuals, is not poured
out as yet either on the multitude or the group. What is done
in the power of the Spirit is done as before for the good of
the group, but it is through the individual that the Spirit oper-
ates; and what it effects in the individual is not as yet a new
life, but some special capacity or action.
There is, however, in the Gospels a very distinct promise
that, when the Kingdom of God is established, the function of
20 Matthew xxvi. 41; Mark xiv. 38; John vi. 64.
27 Luke xxiv. 37, 39. Matthew xxii. 43 ; Mark xii. 36.
-'Matthew i. 18, 20; Luke i. 35.
30 Luke i. 41, 67. 81 Luke ii. 25-27. 8 = Luke i. 15, 17.
83 Matthew iii. 1C; Mark i. 10; Luke iii. 22; John i. 22, 33.
84 Matthew iv. 1; Mark i. 12; Luke iv. 1. ss Luke iv. 14.
"Matthew xii. 28. "Luke x. 21. 3S Matthew xii. 18; Luke iv. 18.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 175
the Spirit in both these respects will be broadened. It is to the
disciples as a whole that John says : "He that cometh after me
shall baptize you in the Holy Ghost and fire." 39 The Spirit,
like the wind, breathes where He wills, 40 and will be given to
all who ask Him of the Father. 41 Neither will He be given by
measure. 42 All nations are -to be baptized in the name (or
power) of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, 43 and whosoever
is baptized of the Spirit is born again of the Spirit to a new
life. 44 Out of such an one shall flow rivers of living water. 45
The Spirit is promised to all men, but on certain condi-
tions: they must believe in the Son, 46 and must be baptized
with water in the name of the three Divine Persons. 47 Faith
is evoked by the "hearing" of a teacher, and baptism supposes
a minister. Therefore, that man might know Christ, were the
Apostles sent to preach Him, and to baptize all believers in
His name. The new life is to be built upon Truth, and, Christ
having ascended to the Father, it is from the Apostles that
Truth is to be learned. Therefore, it is to the Apostles prima-
rily, and to them as a corporate group, that the Spirit of
Truth is promised, and upon them that in the sequel He
descends.
The problem of how man may know God, and know Him
with certainty, has been solved by the Incarnation of the
Second Divine Person; man has had experience of God in the
flesh. The problem of how the knowledge derived from this
experience may remain linked to certainty when the object
of experience has gone, is to be solved in a similar manner,
by the indwelling of the Spirit of Truth. He Whom the world
cannot receive, because it seeth Him not, nor knoweth Him,
will abide with those who are to declare what they know, and
will be in them. 48 A Paraclete is to be sent by the Father
in Christ's name, Who will teach the Apostles all things, and
bring all things to their minds, whatsoever He has said to
them. 49 A little while and the world will see Christ no more,
but His Apostles shall see Him. He will not leave them
orphans, but will come to them; and in that day they shall
know that He is in the Father, and they in Him and He in
sn Matthew iii. 11; Mark i. 8; Luke iii. 16; John i. 33. "John iii. 8.
41 Luke xi. 13. s John iii. 34. Matthew xxviii. 19.
"John iii. 5-8; cf. i. V2, 13. "John viii. 38, 39. * 6 John iii. 16, 36.
" Matthew xxviii. 19; John iii. 5. * 8 John xiv. 17.
49 Ibid. xiv. 26.
176 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
them. 50 They will testify what they know. 51 As the Father
sent Christ, so does He send them, 52 endowed with His power
and His Spirit. As Christ has made known to them whatso-
ever He has heard of the Father, 53 so are they to testify of
Christ all things whatsoever He commandeth them. They will
not bear witness merely to what they remember, they will
testify what they know, through the Spirit which teacheth
them. They are to fear nothing from synagogues, magistrates
or powers, nor to take thought in moments of difficulty what
they shall say. For the Holy Ghost shall teach them what to
say, and it shall not be they who speak, but the Spirit of the
Father within them. 54
Thus is Christ, though absent, to remain in the world. He
must needs go, yet will He come again, and will abide with
His Apostles for all time. 55 He that heareth them, shall hear
Him. 56 For the Spirit Whom He will send, is His Spirit, the
Spirit of God the Son and God the Father. The same func-
tions which Christ exercised while on earth the Spirit will
exercise still through the Apostles, whom He has chosen.
Truth will still be preached and sins be forgiven 57 by those to
whom the Spirit is given. And as Truth, radiating from this
apostolic nucleus in which it is centred, becomes known, a
Church will be formed in which shall be men of all nations.
With them also will the Spirit abide, for "he that receiveth
whomsoever I send, receiveth Me, and he that receiveth Me,
receiveth Him that sent Me." 58 He that, believing, is baptized,
shall be baptized of the Spirit, and so shall receive life in the
Father, the Son and the Spirit.
It is here that lies the chief difference between the func-
tions of the Spirit in the Old and the New Testaments. There
is to be an abiding, not a transient, Spirit; and He is to abide,
not merely with the individual prophet, but with a group of
such prophets and with all who shall join themselves to this
group. Man, if he believes what is taught through the Spirit,
is to be raised to a new status, a new life. Truth shall abide
with Him, making of those who receive it one vine, whence
life flows through the Spirit from Christ, and through Christ
from the Father. Of God's reality man will still have expe-
80 John xiv. 18-20. Ibid. xiv. 7. "/bid. xx. 21^""
33 Ibid. xv. 15. "Luke xii. 11, 12; Matthew x. 19, 20; Mark xiii. 11.
55 John xiv. 18, 19 ; Matthew xxviii. 20. 56 Luke x. 16.
57 John xx. 22, 23. 5 Ibid. xiii. 20.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 111
rience, because the Spirit, Who is God, will operate within
him. Knowledge will still be linked with certainty, because
the Spirit of Truth Himself will be the source whence knowl-
edge comes.
That this is the solution which Christianity offers of the
problem of the ages, is borne out by the manner in which the
Spirit operates so soon as Christ's promise is fulfilled. The
Holy Ghost is given first to the Apostles. A spiritual power
comes upon them with vehemence; they are filled with it, and
give utterance to the thoughts which are inspired. The multi-
tude which assembles to hear them, though of different nations
and tongues, understands. Peter explains that this is the long
looked for fulfillment of prophecy: the Spirit is now being
poured out, and his hearers, too, can share in it, if they will
repent and be baptized. 59 Many, consenting, receive the Gift,
and as a consequence "persevere in the teaching of the Apos-
tles, in the communication of the breaking of bread, and in
prayer." 60 A further consequence, no less significant, is that
they resolve to share all things in common, even as they share
also in the Spirit. 61
The condition of receiving the Spirit is that men should
obey God, speaking through the witnesses He has sent. 62 Hence,
those who refuse to obey the Gospel, resist the Holy Ghost, 63
and, in those who do obey, there are vast differences in the
effect which the Spirit produces. Some are "full of the Holy
Ghost," 64 and it is such men who are most efficacious in
preaching: Stephen, 65 Philip, 66 Barnabas, 67 Agabus, 68 and,
above all, SS. Peter and Paul, who throughout are guided by
the Spirit. On the other hand, there are many and increasing
difficulties. Ananias goes back on his promise; disputes arise
about the distribution of alms; Paul meets with organized
opposition; not all who prophesy are moved by the same
spirit; sins, even grave sins, occur. It is evident that the Spirit,
though given, can still be resisted. All Christians receive
the Gift, normally at the laying on of hands, which may either
accompany, follow, or even precede baptism. 69 Its immediate
effect, especially in the group, is both manifest and conscious, 70
since it produces both consolation and usually the gift of
59 Acts ii. 38. o Ibid, ii. 42. Ibid. ii. 44, 45. Ibid. v. 32.
68 Ibid. vii. 51. M Ibid. vi. 3. Ibid. vi. 5, 10, vii. 55.
M Ibid, vii. 29, 39. Ibid. xi. 24. 68 Ibid. xi. 28, xxi. 11.
"Ibid. xix. 2, 6, viii. 17, 19, ix. 17, 18, ef. x. 44. 70 Ibid, and cf. iv. 31, ix. 31.
VOL. cxiv. 12
178 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
tongues. But its enduring effect varies with the individual,
who may or may not in his life respond to the grace that is
given.
The Gift of the Spirit is for each Christian an internal
witness to the truth of what he believes. But it is also some-
thing more. It dwells in the whole community, as the prin-
ciple of life dwells in an organism, controlling its develop-
ment and action. It is under the guidance of the Spirit that
the new Ecclesia grows. The Apostles preach, deliberate
amongst themselves and, with others, devise expedients, pass
judgments, make plans for the future, but it is the Spirit that
prompts them to this, in the power of the Spirit that they do it,
to the Spirit that they attribute their success. At Pentecost
the Spirit descends, and forthwith Peter makes the first proc-
lamation of Christian dogma: He Whom you crucified, God
hath raised; it is He, the Lord and Christ of prophecy, Who
has sent the Spirit; in His name is remission of sins. A like
declaration is made in the temple, after the first cure effected
in Christ's name; and again before the princes and ancients
of Israel, Peter speaking "full of the Holy Ghost." 71 The first
exercise of Peter's binding and loosing power is ratified by the
death of Ananias, condemned because, in lying to Peter, he
has lied to the Holy Ghost and to God. 72 When there is need
to find some who will "serve tables," it is men "full of the
Holy Ghost" that are sought. In them the diaconate is insti-
tuted by the laying on of hands, the symbol of a conveyance
of the Holy Ghost's power. 73 It is in the same power that the
first martyr, Stephen, vindicates Christianity at his trial; by
this power that he is sustained at the moment of death. 74
Still more significant is the chain of events leading to the
admission of Gentiles into the Church, and ultimately to the
recognition of their equality with Jewish converts. This was
essential, if the Church was to be Catholic, and had been fore-
told both by Christ and the prophets; yet the idea of it, as is
evident, 75 was intensely repugnant to the mind of the Jew,
especially to the Jew of Palestine, with his narrow traditions
and his hatred of the Gentile yoke. Somehow this repugnance
must be overcome. It is overcome, and God's will in the
matter made plain, by the vision granted to Peter at Joppe. 76
71 Ibid. iv. 8. Ibid. v. 3-5. Ibid. vi. 1-7.
74 Ibid. vii. 7B Ibid., cf. especially x. 28. Ibid. x. 9-23.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 179
Obeying the guidance of the Spirit, Peter goes to Caesarea,
and is finally convinced of the significance of his vision, when,
on Cornelius accepting the "Word," the Spirit descends upon
him and his friends. 77 When these events are related to "the
Apostles and brethren" in Judea, they too become reluctantly
convinced that "also to the Gentiles God hath given repentance
unto life." 78 Later, when a bitter controversy has arisen in
the Church as to the terms on which the Gentiles are to be
received, it is Peter's vision and the subsequent happenings
which determine the issue in the Jerusalem conference. "If
God gave testimony," urges Peter, "giving unto them the Holy
Ghost, as well as to us, and put no difference between us and
them" the clean and the unclean meats "why tempt you
God to put a yoke upon the necks of the disciples which
neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?" 79 To this
argument, there is no reply. Then James assents, supporting
Peter's evidence by appeal to the prophets, and proposing a
resolution in accordance with it. It is passed, and a message
announcing that "it seemeth good to the Holy Ghost and to us
to lay no further burden upon you than certain necessary
things" is sent to the Gentile brethren of Antioch, Syria and
Cilicia. 80
Besides the personal gifts and graces given to individuals,
there is also the normal guidance of the Spirit in the govern-
ment and work of the Church. This operates especially
through the Apostles, who in virtue of it issue judgments and
decrees in God's name; and still more especially in St. Peter
through whom the Church speaks, and by whom the first of
her great decisions is determined. To him was given the
command that he should strengthen his brethren and feed the
whole flock. That he might do so, there was given to him the
same plenitude of power which was bestowed upon the
Apostles as a group. In his life as described in the Acts the
whole mission of the Church is summed up. It is he who pro-
claims her advent, he who defends her against attacks from
without, he who in the Spirit guides her in a momentous ques-
tion to a right decision. Christ is in heaven, but the Spirit of
Christ still dwells in His Church, governing her action and
fostering her growth, and the law of the Spirit's operation is
77 Ibid. x. 44-47. Ibid. xi. 18.
79 Ibid. xv. 8-11. M Ibid. xv. 23-29.
180 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
no less discernible to those who will to discover it, than are
the laws manifest in nature's operations.
The Gospels relate how redemption was wrought and the
way prepared for the coming of God's Kingdom by Jesus,
God's Son, in Whose life the Father is revealed. The Acts of
the Apostles of Christ tell how, when the Spirit descended
upon them, the Kingdom came into being, and under the guid-
ance of the Spirit developed. In the writings of Paul we have
a description of the Kingdom as through experience he knew
it, and in it beheld the three Divine Persons operating for the
salvation of mankind. With an account of what Paul saw in
the Kingdom, therefore, we may well conclude these essays;
for what he saw, we may see, and in it the same eternal ver-
ities, which Christ became man to reveal, and has sent the
Spirit to communicate.
The fundamental truth, summarized in the baptismal for-
mula, finds constant expression in the Pauline epistles. When
the fullness of time was come, God sent His Son, made of a
woman, that, being redeemed from the law, we might receive
the adoption of sons; to whom, being sons, God hath sent the
Spirit of His Son, whereby we cry in our hearts, Abba,
Father. 81 Through Christ in one Spirit, therefore, we have
access to the Father. 82 It is by the blood of Christ, Who by the
Holy Spirit offered Himself unspotted to the Father, that our
consciences are cleansed 83 by the laver of regeneration and
renovation of the Holy Ghost, Whom He hath poured forth
upon us abundantly through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, that
God, our Saviour, saves us. 84 Hence, we Christians are the
true circumcision, for in the Spirit we serve God and glory in
Jesus Christ, not having confidence in the flesh. 85 God sent
His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh that we may walk
according to the law of the Spirit in Christ Jesus; 86 and by
Christ Jesus are we built together into a habitation of God in
the Spirit. 87 There is, therefore, one body and One Spirit;
one Lord, one faith and one baptism; one God and Father
of all, Who is above all and through all and in us all. 88
As Peter declares himself an Apostle according to the
foreknowledge of God the Father, unto the sanctification of
the Spirit, and unto the obedience and sprinkling of the blood
81 Galatians iv. 4-6. M Ephesians ii. 18. Hebrews ix. 14.
84 Titus iii. 4-6. 8S Philippians iii. 3. M Romans viii. 1-3.
"Ephesians ii. 22. M Ephesians iv. 4-6; cf. 1 Corinthians xii. 4-6.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 181
of Jesus Christ;* 9 and John says that, having an unction from
the Holy One, he confesses the Son, and in confessing the Son,
has the Father already in him; 90 so, too, does Paul proclaim
himself a minister of Christ Jesus, sanctifying the gospel of
God, that the oblation of the Gentiles may be made acceptable
and may be sanctified in the Holy Ghost. 91 He ceases not to
pray that the God of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of
glory, may give unto His disciples the Spirit of wisdom and
revelation in the knowledge of Him, 92 and for their sakes
bows the knee to the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that He
may strengthen them by His Spirit with might unto the inward
man. 93 Be ye filled with the Holy Ghost, he exclaims, giving
thanks always for all things in the name of Our Lord Jesus
Christ, to God and the Father; 9 * for it is in the name of the
Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God that we are
justified. 95
In God, then, Paul contemplates three Persons three sub-
jects to whom in the grammatical and the real sense oper-
ations may be referred. 96 It is God the Father Who created
all things; 97 of Whom all paternity in heaven and earth is
named; 98 Who chose us in Christ before the foundation of the
world that we might become holy in His sight; 99 and Who hath
now made us His children by adoption through Christ, 100
having delivered us from the power of darkness and translated
us into the Kingdom of the Son of His Love. 101
The Son is the image of the invisible God, His first-born
before all creatures, in Whom and by Whom all things were
created in heaven and earth. 102 God no man hath seen, nor
can see. 103 But Christ Jesus, Who, being in the form of God,
89 1 Peter 1. 1, 2. 80 1 John ii. 20-23, iv. 13-15.
"Romans xv. 16. M Ephesians 1. 16, 17; cf. Galatlans vi. 18.
M Ephesians iii. 14, 16. " Ephesians v. 18, 20. M 1 Corinthians vi. 11.
"The Greek term, icp6awxov, was used in the sense of person by Dionysius
Thrax of Alexandria, born B. C. 166, in the earliest Greek grammar extant. It is
the ordinary grammatical term for person; and the first, second and third persons
are distinguished in Dionysius' grammar, just as they are today. The Latin term,
persona, is also to be found in the De Lingua Latina of Varro, a contemporary of
Julius Caesar, as the ordinary term for person in the grammatical sense. The oft-
repeated statement that to the Greek and Latin Fathers the term "person" can only
have connoted a mask, or the actor who wore it, ignores the fact that for centuries
every Greek and Latin schoolboy had been taught to use it just as we are taught
to use it today.
"Ephesians iii. 9. M Ibid. iii. 15. M Ibid. i. 4.
100 Ibid. i. 5. "i Colossians i. 12, 13.
102 Ibid. i. 15, 16. 108 1 Timothy vi. 16; cf. 1 John iv. 12.
182 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
can claim equality with God, has emptied Himself, taken the
form of a servant, become made in the likeness of man, 104 and
so has made manifest the goodness of God, our Saviour. 105
He hath loved us, and delivered Himself up for the Church, an
oblation and a sacrifice unto God, that He might sanctify her,
cleansing her in the laver of water and in the word of life. 106
In His blood we have redemption and the remission of sins. 107
For in Him it has pleased the Father that all fullness should
dwell, that through Him He may reconcile all things to Him-
self. 108 By His grace we are saved through faith; 109 for through
faith we are able to comprehend the breadth and length and
height and depth of the charity of Christ, in which the charity
of God has become manifest. 110
But to know this, to know the Sonship of Christ, which
has become our sonship, the Spirit must give testimony to our
spirit. 111 The things that are of God no man knoweth, but the
Spirit of God searcheth all things, yea even the deep things of
God. 112 Christ has ascended into heaven that He might give
gifts, 113 which the Spirit distributes as He wills. 114 For as
Christ was sent, so has the Spirit been sent, 116 that the eyes of
the heart may be enlightened, that we may know the hope of
our calling, the richness of our inheritance, the greatness of
God's power that we may realize the significance of the risen
Christ, and of His position in heaven, above every name that
is named, not only in this world, but also in the world that is
to come. 118
The Spirit is God operating within us, and yet is distinct
from the Father and Son, by Whom He is sent. He is the
third Divine Person, revealing Himself within our experience,
and so bringing us into immediate relationship with God,
whereas the Father is still invisible, and Christ also, since He
has ascended now into heaven. The Spirit knows God, and
has been given us that we may know the things given us of
God, which things the Apostles speak in the doctrine of the
Spirit. 117 For St. Paul as for St. John, He is essentially the
Spirit of Truth and testifies to Truth. He is the "Spirit of
l <* Philippians li. 6,7. ">< Ephesians ii. 4-7; Titus iii. 4, ii. 11.
1W Ephesians v. 25, 26. m Ephesians i. 7; Colossians i. 14.
108 Colossians 1. 19, 20. "" Ephesians ii. 8. ' Ibid. iii. 18, 19.
111 Romans viii. 16; cf. 1 John iii. 24, v. 6. " s 1 Corinthians ii. 10, 11.
118 Ephesians iv. 8. 1 Corinthians xii. 11.
" Galatians iv. 4-6. Ephesians i. 18-21. " i Corinthians ii. 11-13.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 183
wisdom and revelation," 118 the pledge of our inheritance unto
the redemption of acquisition. 119 Those that possess not the
Spirit have their understanding darkened; through ignorance
are alieniated from the life of God; and, hence, despairing,
give themselves up to lasciviousness, and to the working of all
uncleanness. 120 Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill
the lusts of the flesh, 121 but shall put off the old man, who is
corrupted according to the desire of error, and, being renewed
in the Spirit, shall put on the new man, created by God in the
justice and holiness of Truth. 122
It is by truth we are saved; by error that we are led
astray. Yet the Spirit makes no new revelation, still less a
private revelation. He is the Spirit of wisdom and revelation
in the knowledge of Christ. 123 In the Spirit we meditate upon
Christ, upon His baptism which symbolizes our baptism, upon
His life, which is the model for ours, upon His sufferings in
which we must share, upon His death in which we are cruci-
fied to sin, and upon His resurrection which is the promise of
our victory. The light of the knowledge of the glory of God
shines upon us in Christ's image, 124 which, beholding, we are
transformed into the same image from glory to glory by the
Spirit of the Lord. 125 We thus become God's workmanship
created in Jesus Christ in good works, 126 doing the truth in
charity that we may all grow up in Him Who is the Head, even
Christ. 127
In this is true liberty. The liberty wherewith Christians
are made free, 128 is not the liberty to do what we will; nor yet,
for that matter, the liberty of voting or of democracy. It is the
liberty which ensues when, beholding the glory of the Lord,
we are transformed into Him in the Spirit. 129 It is the liberty
that comes of submission, not of license; of submission to the
guidance of God's Spirit manifesting to us the glory of God's
image. Thus it is that we are joined to Christ in one Spirit,
and hence, glorifying and bearing God in our bodies, cease
to be our own. 130 Thus it is that, as Peter says, 131 grace and
peace are accomplished in us in the knowledge of God and of
Christ Jesus our Lord. Thus it is that all things of His Divine
U8 Ephesians i. 17. M Ibid, i. 14. tzo Ibid. iv. 17-19.
121 Galatians v. 16. " Ephesians iv. 22-24. 1M Ibid. i. 17.
124 2 Corinthians iv. 6. I2fl Ibid. iii. 18. 1M Ephesians ii. 10.
127 Ibid. iv. 15. 128 Galatians iv. 31. 1M 2 Corinthians iii. 17, 18.
180 1 Corinthians vi. 17, 20. l81 2 Peter i. 2, 3.
184 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
power, which appertain to life and godliness, are given us
through the knowledge of Him Who hath called us to His own
proper glory and virtue, so that, flying the concupiscences of
the world, we become partakers of the Divine nature. We are
freed from sin, in that we have become servants of justice. 132
We are freed from the lust of the flesh, in that, and in so far
as, we are led by the Spirit. 133 We are no longer under the
pedagogue of the law, 184 with its bondage of fear, 135 nor are we
the bondslaves of men; 136 but in the Spirit through faith have
become children of God; 137 have become free in becoming the
bondsmen of Christ. 138 It is not I who live, but Christ liveth
in me. 139
It is the Spirit testifieth within me, and without Him I
cannot accept truth, nor believe in Christ's name. 140 It is
through the Spirit I know Christ. Yet not by any private
revelation. Christianity is not merely a personal, it is also a
social, religion. The Spirit dwells in the corporate body,
whose members are human beings, and through them is the
knowledge of Christ conveyed. Faith cometh by hearing, and
hearing by the word of Christ, the sword of the Spirit, which
must be received from those who are sent. 141 Therefore, in
the one body are there given some apostles and some prophets,
other some evangelists, and other some pastors and doctors,
for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry,
for the building up of the body of Christ, until we all meet in
the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, unto the
measure of the fullness of Christ. 142 For this reason, too, is
charity the greatest of Christian virtues. For the manifesta-
tion of the Spirit is given to every man, not for himself only,
but to profit: wisdom, knowledge, faith, the grace of healing,
miracles, prophecy, the discernment of spirits, tongues, inter-
pretations all these are given that as members of one body,
we may help one another, whether Gentile or Jew, bond or
free, honorable or less honorable, comely or uncomely, that
there may be no schism in the body, but each member co-
operate with the other in suffering and in glory. 143
There never has been any great movement, religious,
* Romans vi. 18. 1M Galatlans v. 16-18. 1M Ibid. ill. 25, 26. UB Romans viii. 15.
189 1 Corinthians vii. 23. m Galatlans iii. 25, 26; Romans viii. 15, 16.
188 1 Corinthians vii. 22. " Galatians ii. 20.
"'Romans viii. 16; cf. I John v. 6. '"Romans x. 14-17; Ephesians vi. 17.
l Ephesians iv. 11-13. * 1 Corinthians xii. 7-26.
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 185
political, literary, scientific, artistic, which has not begun with
an individual or a group, and in which, as it has spread, there
have not been two elements, relatively distinct, teachers and
taught. In this matter God has not departed from the policy
which characterized His action prior to the Christian era, a
policy which is rooted in the very nature of human society.
What was not known in other generations the mystery of
Christ has now been revealed, but it has been revealed, as
hitherto, in the first instance, to Apostles and prophets. 144
God is closer to us now, and we to one another, through the
knowledge which has been given in Christ, and through the
Spirit which conserves and communicates that knowledge, the
Spirit in which we believe. We are no more strangers and
foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and members
of the household of God. 145 But it is on the foundation of the
Apostles and prophets that we have been built, Jesus Himself
being the chief corner-stone; 146 and it is still necessary that
there should be prophets and apostles, having grace from
God, if all men are to be enlightened, that they may see what
is the dispensation of the mystery which has been hidden
from eternity in God, and if the manifold wisdom of God is
to be made known through the Church, according to the eter-
nal purpose which He made in Christ Jesus Our Lord. 147 The
Church can fulfill her mission, the saving of souls through the
preaching of Christ, the image of God, and Him crucified, only
if the Spirit dwell within her, only if she have the "mind of
Christ," only if, within the unity of her body, the Spirit, which
searcheth the things of God, operate in each member according
to his function and need.
Man was created that he might enter into conscious and
personal communion with his Creator. It is this that he seeks,
and has sought age after age. Impelled by his instincts, which
environment awakens and molds, he is ever striving after
knowledge, whereby he may explain both his environment and
himself, and whereby he may adapt himself, and so find the
satisfaction of his needs. Because he thinks, and may choose,
he imagines he is free; but in truth is the slave of tradition, of
his own concupiscence, and of the idols which he himself
creates. Unaided, the true solution, which alone can bring
him genuine and lasting satisfaction, ever escapes him. Thus
l "Ephesians iii. 5. Ibid. ii. 19. w Ibid, ii. 20. Ibid. iii. 8-11.
186 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
he learns humility, and the impotence and nothingness of this
tiny being, man; yet remains with his problems unsolved, his
intelligence still uneasy, his personality dissatisfied with aught
this world provides, his heart still yearning for peace. He is
still trying to probe the great Beyond, is still seeking con-
sciously or unconsciously the ultimate Source of all being;
but has now learned from bitter experience that to reach the
ultimate in his own strength is impossible. He breaks forth
into prayer.
To this prayer the answer has been given. The Second
Person of the Trinity, Who knows God because He is God, has
taken to Himself human flesh, and has dwelt amongst us on
earth, manifesting in His life God's knowledge and power, and
in His death God's love for mankind. In Him God is manifest;
through Him God works, for the salvation of humanity,
wrecked with error and distorted by sin. He died; but also
He rose again and lives. Though ascended to the Father and
no longer visible in the flesh, He has taken to Himself a new
body, composed of human beings. To it He has bequeathed
the story of His life, upon it has impressed His own image, and
has endowed it with His power. This He has done through
the Spirit, Who with Him is one with the Father in the infinite
Experience of God. The Second Person has withdrawn Him-
self from our sight, only that the Third Person may dwell
within us, preserving and vivifying the image of the Son, which
is the image of the Father, in the mind of the body which He
has chosen and to which we belong.
This mind, which is God's Spirit, we share, through com-
munion with Him and through intercourse one with another.
The experience which we seek of God is ours, for of the Spirit
we have experience, each of us in whom He dwells; and in
Him recognize the truth of what we have been taught by
those whom Christ has sent. The dry bones of history, man's
actions past and gone, become for us animate with life. In
them, imperfect as they may be, we see the operation of the
Spirit of God. And in the Jesus of history we see, as the
Apostles saw, God incarnate in flesh like to ours. That which
is distant in time becomes to us present, through the Spirit to
Whom all things are present. He Who is invisible, and has
gone from our experience, enters it again through the Spirit
with Whom He is one. In the Spirit we become conscious of
1921.] WHY GOD BECAME MAN 187
our unity with the Whole which God has created amongst
men, that man may be drawn unto Himself; conscious that in
this Whole God dwells, giving continuity to its parts, past,
present and future, and sustaining in it the knowledge of
Himself.
Man's greatest problem the problem of how to get in
touch with ultimate Reality, so as to render our knowledge of
It both certain and durable, has thus been solved in the only
way it could be solved by God Himself, Who has entered our
experience first as man, and then as Spirit, vivifying the image
of Himself which remained in the minds of His chosen Apos-
tles, and which exists in our mind through communion with
the body formed in them. No longer are we children, tossed
to and fro and carried about by every wind of doctrine, for in
the body which the Spirit animates, and each member of it,
Truth resides. The image of Christ, which must needs be
communicated, expresses itself within us and through us, in
speech, literature, symbolism, art, and, above all, in works
of charity. In proportion as we possess it, we are free: free
from the thraldom of error; free from the bondage of sin.
Not yet is our destiny fully realized. Not yet have we an im-
mediate consciousness of either the Father or the Son. But
we know what we are and what we shall be. Born again in
Christ's likeness, already are we truly sons of God; and be-
cause sons, heirs also, destined, if His image develop within
us, to share ultimately with Christ His experience of the
Father, through the Spirit which dwells within us, unifying
through experience the many and the one.
That this might be our destiny, and we have assurance of
it, is the answer to the question why God became man. What
of ourselves we could not know, we now know through Christ,
Who has revealed to us God's nature; and in this knowledge
both God and the universe become intelligible to us in a way
in which they were never intelligible before. Unless God be
experience, intelligence, life, goodness, unless in Him be all
that we esteem highest and best, what is God? And how can
He be this, unless within His Experience, infinite and eternal,
there be distinction of personality? Aristotle got almost thus
far; but we now know that it is so, and also that this distinc-
tion, while yet remaining, is none the less transcended in the
Spirit of Unity and Love. Unless there were personality in
188 WHY GOD BECAME MAN [Nov.,
God, how could there be society among men, or number or
difference? And unless in God's Experience we were destined
somehow to share, mediately or immediately, what reason
could there be for our existence; what reason for our evolu-
tion unless that we may grow in this experience, one with an-
other, and so attain a happiness which no passing creature can
give? What, except this, is the meaning of the first Command-
ment? What the meaning of the second, unless it be that, each
having the same end, each should help the other in attaining it?
Our faith, which is in the Trinity, has value for intel-
ligence and value for life, both personal and social. In it lies,
as Augustine saw, the key to a right understanding of nature;
because of it, as Paul pointed out, law ceases to be law in that
the wherefore of law stands revealed and charity replaces
coercion. It contains also a promise for the future. But its
greatest value lies in the fact that with the promise is con-
joined the pledge of its own fulfillment. Our redemption is
one of acquisition, but what we shall acquire, already in part
we possess. Already we are one with God through the flesh,
in which He became one with our race; through the Gross, on
which He took to Himself human suffering and sin; through
the Spirit, which is God, indwelling the society He has chosen,
and giving life to the image of the Son, by which and into
which we are gradually transformed. The pledge of our re-
demption dwells within us: we await but the moment when,
the flesh being subdued, the self abnegated, vanity and error
purged away, the Sonship, which already is ours, shall be
fully revealed. The Society God has formed in His Church,
though imperfect, is already Divine. The knowledge which
sustains her in being, though imparted through symbols and
speech, is none the less already immediate through the Spirit
which animates her members. In the end this immediacy will
extend to the whole of That which is: we shall see God face to
face; and so shall be made one Society with Father, Son and
Spirit, in Whom we believe. To become god man sinned : yet
he can become God if he wills through the Son, in Whom man
is redeemed, and through the Spirit which is given that pro-
cess in time may be completed in creatures, even as it is
eternally complete in the Experience of the three Divine
Persons to Whom creatures owe their being.
[THE END.]
VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY.
BY WILLIAM H. SGHEIFLEY, PH.D.
NTEREST in Paul Verlaine has steadily grown
at home and abroad. The errors of his life are
forgotten as the greatness of his work emerges.
In the perspective of time, we now understand
the poet of Sagesse far better than at his death
a quarter of a century ago. His adverse critics have modified
their strictures. Such strictures were based upon his Bohe-
mian career and equally upon the eccentricities of his "sym-
bolism." Rene Doumic, for example, condemned his poetry
as consisting of "polissonneries," "niaiseries" and "radotage"
Even so sympathetic an appreciator as Jules Lemaitre found
himself forced to exert persistent effort in order to understand
Verlaine. "What I took at first to be pretentious and obscure
refinements, I have come to regard as the natural boldness
of a spontaneous poet, his charmingly awkward gestures."
"Certainly, he was mad," said Anatole France. "But remem-
ber that this poor madman has created a new art, and that
concerning him the future will be likely to say: 'He was the
first poet of his time.' "
Abandoning the architectural forms of the Parnassians,
Paul Verlaine evolved a personal poetry that was essentially
musical. After the pompous lyrism of the Romanticists, he
created a language capable of expressing deeper sensibility,
employing for this a syntax emancipated from that Latin in-
fluence which even Victor Hugo had been obliged to respect
almost as rigidly as had Racine. Thus Verlaine represents
the confluence of classic tradition and the French genius.
Mr. Harold Nicolson, in his recent biography of Verlaine, has
so skillfully reconstructed the vagabond poet's stormy life that
it unfolds with fascinating vividness. Born at Metz in 1844, he
had begun his career during the vogue of the Parnassian
school. Even such standard bearers of Romanticism as Hugo
and Gautier had virtually abdicated in favor of Leconte de
Lisle and Baudelaire, masters of the younger generation. It
was as their disciple that Verlaine composed Les Poemes
190 VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY [Nov.,
Saturniens (1866), his maiden effort. Here, misunderstanding
his own temperament, he insisted upon the Parnassian creed
of "impassibilite," and cautioned against heeding the voice of
inner inspiration. The poet, he said, should not abandon him-
self idly to the blowing of the wind. He should assert his will,
not waste his soul in vagrant feeling, and, above all, he should
remember that the Venus de Milo is created out of marble.
Thinking himself similarly destined to carve from stone or to
cast in bronze, Verlaine tried his hand at plastic poems such
as La Mort de Philippe II. , which were only clever imita-
tions of Leconte de Lisle. But already his true talent had
found expression in Pay sages Tristes:
Et je m'en vais
AU vent mauvais
Qui m'emporte
De ci, de la
Pareil a la
Feuille morte.
And, as by wind
Harsh and unkind
Driven by grief,
Go I, here, there,
Recking not where,
Like the dead leaf. 1
And ere long traces of a new manner became evident, his true
nature betraying itself beneath the mask now by a furtive
tenderness and now by whimsicalities in thought or expres-
sion due to the originality of his genius. Even in Les Fetes
galantes (1869), poems somewhat precieux, written according
to eighteenth century taste, and in La bonne Chanson (1870),
a collection of brief love poems, sweet, sincere and simple, the
outstanding trait was no longer Parnassian contemplation, but
palpitant sensibility.
The excesses of a wild life during the decade that ensued
frightened away Verlaine's Muse. He became a vagabond and
a wastrel, and it was only in prison that he again found him-
self. He had read widely, and the wisdom thus acquired and
his bitter experiences wrought upon his sensitive nature. He
1 Translated by Gertrude Hall.
1921.] VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY 191
was a strange combination of god and beast, now mystic, now
carnal, now shaking his sides with laughter, now weeping with
melancholy. Religion, from which he had strayed, once more
claimed him. Redeemed from his sins, he returned to his
traditional faith. The change became apparent in 1881 with
the publication of Sagesse, remarkable poems of piety. Here,
lamenting his former skepticism and license, he wrote: "The
author of the present volume has not always believed as he
does today. He long went astray in corruption, sharing the
vice and ignorance of the time. Recently, however, merited
misfortune gave him warning, and, by God's grace, he under-
stood. He knelt before the altar so long disdained, and now
he adores the Almighty as a submissive child of the Church
the last in merit, but confirmed in good will."
The convert describes his fruitless struggle against the
flesh until a Divine Lady, radiant in snowy garments, came to
his rescue :
J'etais le vaincu qu'on assiege,
Pret a vendre son sang bien cher,
Quand, blanche, en vetement de neige,
Toute belle au front humble et fier,
Une Dame vint sur la nue,
Qui d'un signe fit fair la Chair.
I was a prisoner, at bay,
Ready to sell his blood most dear,
When lo ! in raiment white as day,
Most beautiful, with brow most clear,
A Lady came to me from heaven
And with a sign my Flesh did sear.
So the poet, time and again, grows fervent in his confessions
and supplications. He is as ardent in faith as he had been in
infidelity. With the ecstasy of a Pascal, he exclaims:
O mon Dieu, vous m'avez blesse d'amour
Et la blessure est encore vibrante!
O God, Thou hast pierced me with love,
And the wound is palpitant still.
Of the Mass he says: "Everything passes; this service alone
192 VERLA1NE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY [Nov.,
endures. It will remain as it was established at the begin-
ning. From every corner of the world speaks this voice,
always the same, inexhaustible in meaning, not to be altered
or rendered more profound by all the centuries. . . . The
words of the Mass are graven as in bronze, not to be effaced
by eternity itself." How different is the poetry of such a man
from that induced by the vague religiosity of the Romanticists !
To God Verlaine appeals in language worthy of Thomas a
Kempis. To Christ he dedicates sonnets of rare beauty. In-
deed, it is only in St. Teresa that one finds more exquisite
mystic effusions. As for Verlaine's "confessions," they are
reminiscent of St. Augustine. "It is here for the first time,"
affirms Jules Lemaitre, "that French poetry has truly ex-
pressed the love of God," and Anatole France asserts that
Verlaine's verse is the most Christian written in France.
Evidently, the strains of Sagesse were remote from Par-
nassian eloquence. Instead of carving in marble, Verlaine
now strove to reproduce the music of the soul. Mallarme,
another master of the hour, represented a similar tendency.
In fact, the theories of poetry were again in the melting pot,
as witness the number of dissidents from the Parnassian creed.
A precursor of the new movement was Baudelaire, who
pointed its way in his famous sonnet, Les Correspondances:
La Nature est un temple oil de vivants piliers
Laissent parfois sortir de confuses paroles;
L'homme y passe a travers des forets de symboles
Qui I'observent avec des regards familiers.
In Nature's temple living pillars rise,
And words are murmured none have understood,
And man must wander through a tangled wood
Of symbols watching him with friendly eyes. 2
Reaction against a rigid, metallic, or marmoreal poetry, and
against impassive scenes from nature or society had begun to
manifest itself before 1880. Poets evinced a taste for ideas
and emotions revealing eternal laws and personality. Young
rhymesters, grouped in coteries, with their progressive liter-
ary journals, proclaimed the dawn of a new school. The
* Poems and Prose Poems, with Introduction and Preface by James Huneker.
New York: Brentano's.
1921.] VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY 193
people heard this movement described as decadent and sym-
boliste. The fantastic obscurities and the mystifying preten-
sions of the new creed struck them for a time as grotesque,
the features of a hoax. Nevertheless, the movement was
serious and fruitful.
As Gustave Lanson has pointed out, the decadents and
symbolists did not wish to return to Romanticism, to fill their
poems with autobiographic confessions. They sought to
render, in place of the fixed form of material things, fleeting
impressions of the moment, the rhythm of life in action. They
saw in nature a moving symbol of eternal causes, and they
endeavored to interpret, through art, the world without and
the soul within. They strove for a more individualized poetic
medium, restrained only by the desire of escaping the unin-
telligible. Not all succeeded in avoiding this danger in their
desire to fashion a style peculiar and expressive. They dis-
dained the old syntax, preferring sensations and impressions
to logic. Their verses must be more varied, capable of finer
harmonies. Impressionism, in short, was their aim.
Now although Verlaine was recognized as master by the
elite among his younger confreres, he was anything but a
dogmatic regent of letters. He lacked the over-weening con-
fidence of the doctrinaire. Thus he differed from Malherbe,
who had discarded all that Ronsard and his literary forbears
had accomplished. To merit Malherbe's favor, a writer had
to pay him abject homage. Verlaine, on the contrary, wel-
comed all impartially, incapable of exercising tyranny. Nor
was he eager to attract converts. He recruited disciples only
by his genius. Never was a writer less given to argument. If
pressed regarding a disputed point of doctrine, he would
evade his questioner by some pleasantry. He abhorred ped-
antry^ and theorizing. From experience, he knew that a poet
is a man of instinct, and that, in art, intuition plays the prin-
cipal role. He was convinced that the born poet makes his
verses much as the bee its honey, without the aid of
recipes.
And yet Verlaine paid attention to the theory of poetry.
He criticized his contemporaries, and wrote an Art Poetique.
In such work, however, he was not didactic. It was necessity
rather than taste induced his efforts. Vanier was publishing
a series of biographies, Hommes du Jour, and Verlaine under-
VOL. CXIV, 13
194 VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY [Nov.,
took to write of such poets as he knew personally. His Art
Poetique, composed as the result of an epistolary contention
with Charles Morice, is not without inconsistencies. Here Ver-
laine cautions against "la pointe assassine, I'esprit cruel et le
rire impu.r;" and yet he practises satire and epigram in his
admirable Invectives and Parallelement. He confuses Elo-
quence with mere Declamation, exclaiming: "Take Eloquence
and wring its neck." Later, he admitted that he had meant
only "the excess of romantic verbiage, in which the meaning
evaporates amidst sonority of words, whose superabundance
destroys the essence and mars the flavor."
Nor was Verlaine less inconsistent with regard to rhyme.
Once he characterized it as "ce bijou d'un sou qui sonne creux
et faux sous la lime." Ernest Raynaud, writing recently in
Belles Lettres, says: "I afterwards chanced to remark, in Le
Decadent, Verlaine's desire for rhyme reform, basing my
argument upon his authority. Modest in my suggestions, I
only asked that the poet be permitted to rhyme for the ear.
This got me into serious trouble with my revered master,
whom I had thought it unnecessary to consult about the matter.
To my astonishment, he wrote me a letter for publication in
which he proclaimed the necessity of 'rich rhyme,' an ortho-
dox profession of faith worthy of Boileau." Small wonder
that, in view of these inconsistencies, Verlaine should have
referred to his Art Poetique as a "song not to be taken too
literally." As a matter of fact, he did not approve of radical
symbolist innovations, although literary manuals represent
him and Mallarme as leaders in that movement. His love of
verbal music was instinctive. Thus he employed lines of
thirteen, eleven and nine syllables in a swaying rhythm that
made the rigid movement of the Alexandrine seem heavy by
comparison. He used interlaced feminine rhymes, also, giving
to his strophes a novel sweetness. Exquisite assonances and
delicate alliterations rendered his verse more like the buzzing
of bees than the utterance of human voices.
Much as Verlaine appreciated the music of poetry, he
held clearness to be essential. Like Gautier, he came to be-
lieve that there are few synonyms. Proof of his ultimate con-
servatism is afforded by his lecture upon contemporary poets
given at Brussels near the end of his career. In speaking of
the younger symbolist poets, he said: "I have not always
1921.] VERLA1NE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY 195
agreed with them. To vers libre, for example, my objections
are many, as well as to the loose versification which some of
our younger poets employ or strive to attain. I do not under-
stand the word symboliste. Applied to poetry, it is a pleon-
asm pure and simple." Here he even suggested that poets "re-
turn to the eternal formulas" the old rigid versification. As
Ernest Raynaud has remarked, if you go through Verlaine's
stout volumes, you perceive that whenever his genius is most
in evidence, he is composing according to tradition. Thus,
Verlaine was in part attached to classicism. Wishing to praise
Arthur Rimbaud, he found no higher tribute than to compare
him with Virgil, Racine and Lamartine. He recommended to
writers the essential qualities of the French genius intel-
ligence, measure and clearness. With him it was an axiom of
aesthetics that a good writer must know his own language.
Speaking of Mallarme, he lamented that "preoccupied with
beauty, he had regarded clearness as a secondary grace." In
a word, Verlaine is classic when at his best. Those critics are
in error who, basing their arguments upon his boutades and
paradoxes, see in him only a radical reformer. Far from
vilifying the French Academy, he used his influence to open
its doors to writers he admired, such as Leconte de Lisle,
Francois Goppee and Villiers de PIsle Adam.
According to Mr. Nicolson's interpretative biography, at
once readable and scholarly, Verlaine achieved in poetics two
important reforms. In the first place, he ridded French
metrics of various impediments which had baffled even Victor
Hugo. Then, too, he brought discredit upon the arbitrary
dogma of rich rhyme as formulated by Theodore de Banville.
The poet of Sagesse was the first to understand that Victor
Hugo and his Parnassian successors had dethroned the hemi-
stich only to raise in its place the autocracy of rhyme. He
realized, moreover, that the meaning and the scope of a verse
would be equally impeded by the enforced stress of the con-
cluding rhyme, as it had been curtailed by the tyranny of the
caesura. His object was not to abolish rhyme, but to make it
serviceable and sensible. Accordingly, he introduced a system
of rhymes which should be strong when concordant with the
sense of the verse, but which, when they conflicted with log-
ical expression, should be so modulated as to become almost
imperceptible. In other words :
196 VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY [Nov.,
De la musique encore et ton jours I
Que ton vers soit la chose envolee
Qu'on sent qui fuit d'une dme en allee
Vers d'autres deux a d'autres amours.
Music ever and again!
Speed your verse with winged flight
From a soul that scales the height
Toward distant spheres, toward love not vain.
This primitive poet, who never formed a definite con-
ception of the world or of himself, whose life was spent in the
semi-hallucination of solitary dreaming, possessed the child-
like naivete and the abnormal senses of one deranged or in-
spired. Says Andre Delacour : "Certain of his strophes, which
resemble the enchantments of revery, express in all simplicity
the soul of the lowly, and like the morning dew, seem to come
from the depths of our race." In Sagesse, certainly, there
speaks a pure passion like that which found voice in the erec-
tion of cathedrals and in the composition of The Imitation of
Christ. It was, owing to the spell of Sagesse, this most Cath-
olic of books, that poets so different as Louis Le Cardonnel,
Paul Claudel, Francis Jammes and Charles Peguy escaped
the vague religiosity sprung from Rousseau and entered whole-
heartedly into the pure spirit of the Church. From Verlaine
they caught the warmth and rhythm of a new life and learned
that beneath the humblest of exteriors may lie the finest
poetry.
The religion of Verlaine was by no means incompatible
with the highest patriotism. He was a nationalist rather than
an internationalist. In his prose Confessions, he proclaims
passionately his love for Metz, his native town, and in his
splendid Ode to Metz, written in 1892, he assails the concep-
tion of anarchistic dreamers who would substitute for love of
country love of the race in general. To say that all peoples
are brothers is for him to deny national traditions and
national hopes:
Tous peuples freresl Autant dire
Plus de France, meme martyre,
Plus de souvenirs, meme amers!
Plus de raison souveraine,
1921.] VERLAINE AFTER QUARTER OF A CENTURY 197
Plus de foi sure et sereine,
Plus d' Alsace et plus de Lorraine. . . .
Autant fouetter le flot des mers.
Peoples brothers! That would mean
France disrupted, Martyred queen,
Memories vanished bitterly!
Kingly reason downward thrust,
Faith serene a shaken trust,
Alsace, Lorraine, dust to dust. . . .
Sooner still the surging sea.
To Metz he sings as remaining virginal in purity though vio-
lated by the invader, from whose hand it will at length be
rescued. In prophetic accents he bids the day and the hour
of deliverance to sound.
Here Verlaine is vigorous. More often, he is relaxed and
brooding, expressing for his generation something of the sad-
ness that Musset uttered for his. Indeed, he represents the
culmination of romantic lyrism, a melancholy which Chateau-
briand had magnified in Rene, after its inauguration by Rous-
seau. Such melancholy, nourished by Northern literatures,
was as varied as the sensibility of its exponents, just as a toxin,
in passing through different organisms, becomes more or less
virulent. Thus, the happy childhood and fundamental opti-
mism of Lamartine preserved him from bitterness. The
healthy plebeian, Victor Hugo, might prate of the tragedies of
conscience, but he did so with one eye on his audience. De
Vigny, however, was truly pessimistic, and Musset struggled
between contending moods, now joyous and now despairing.
As for Baudelaire, Verlaine's immediate master, he was tem-
peramentally neurotic, his morbid melancholy alternating
from gloom to hysteria. In his Fleurs da Mai, the bombast
of Romanticism was refined, and in the verses of Verlaine it is
still further subdued, gaining in depth and subtlety what it has
lost in amplitude. Freed from such accessories as oriental-
ism, mythology, history and biography, it has become with
Verlaine sheer subjectivism, exquisitely sad.
At a time when others were coldly sculpturing the same
conventional designs over and over, Verlaine, as we have seen,
breathed life into marble and then turned to another medium
for poetry the free fantasy of music. This bourgeois in the
198 GOD [Nov.,
midst of Paris sang like a faun or a minstrel of the Middle
Ages, evoking the most delicate vibrations of the nerves, the
most fugitive echoes of the heart. As for influence, that of
Paul Verlaine is latent and all-pervading rather than concen-
trated. He bequeathed to posterity an atmosphere rather than
a specific doctrine. He remains the purest lyrical genius of
his country in our day, a verbal musician who has succeeded
in transforming a melancholy that was painful into a thing
of beauty. His work will live as long as the language in which
he wrought this miracle.
GOD.
BY FRANCIS CARLIN.
THE Shining Three
Are One Who is
Simplicity.
Heaven's One
Is Three Who are
As Triune Sun.
Behold ! Their Sire
Is Mercy Who
Shall be our Fire.
And He, Their Word,
In kindled Wine
Is yet Our Lord;
The while Their Dove
In flaming Truth
Is yet our Love.
Heaven's One
Is Three Who are
As Triune Sun.
The Shining Three
Are One Who is
Simplicity.
THE FAILURE OF THE RUSSIAN CHURCH.
BY A. PALMIERI, O.S.A., D.D., PH.D.
OLSHEVISM is a tyranny a revolutionary tyr-
anny, if you will, the complete negation of
democracy, and of all freedom of thought and
action. Based on force and terroristic violence,
it is simply following out the same philosophy
which was preached by Nietzsche and Haeckel, and which for
the past twenty-five years has glorified the might of force, as
the final justification of all , existence. By substituting one
class domination for another, it has merely reversed the
former tyranny of the Romanoffs into a tyranny still more
terrible in its onesidedness." x
Everyone who has followed the gradual enhancement of
Bolshevism, and its domestic policy within the frontiers of
Russia, can subscribe to the definition set forth above. Polit-
ically, Bolshevism is the fanaticism of the Revolution. It aims
to create a new mind in Europe. The social order, as it exists
in the most civilized nations of our day, appears to Bolshevism
a relic of mediaeval barbarism, and therefore doomed to com-
plete disappearance. "The purpose of Russian Socialism,"
wrote Leon Trotzky, "is to revolutionize the minds of the
working class in the same way as the development of Capital-
ism has revolutionized social relations." 2
Faithful to its aims, Bolshevism has succeeded, at least
temporarily, in subverting the foundations of society. In de-
fault of a convincing logical foundation, it has resorted to
violence. The soil of Russia has been piled high with corpses
to test the social reforms of Bolshevism. A French Socialist
deputy after his visit to Russia could not help declaring
openly that in Russia "terror and death are everywhere and
no one knows why the dead are dead." 3 The chiefs of Bol-
1 "Bolshevik Aims and Ideals" and "Russian Revolt Against Bolshevism," re-
printed from the Round Table, New York, 1919, p. 53.
2 Our Revolution, New York, 1918, p. 142.
8 Charles Dumas, La verite sur les Bolsheviki: documents et notes d'un temoin,
Paris, 1919, p. 134.
200 FAILURE OF THE RUSSIAN CHURCH [Nov.,
shevism have followed the maxim written in blood by a victim
of the old regime on the walls of his prison: "Whatever
promotes revolution is moral; whatever raises an obstacle
to it is immoral and criminal." The foes of Tsarism were not
so severely crushed as have been those who rebelled against
Bolshevism.
But Bolshevism is not only a political and social system.
It is also a religion. Even atheism, from a certain point of
view, is not exempt from a religious element. * It denies God,
only to set up gods of its own. In essence, atheism is not the
negation of religion, but a depraved religion. And Bolshe-
vism, in spite of its irreligion, takes the shape of a religious
system, and wraps itself in hieratic draperies. "Bolsheviki
are fanatics who have no concern for their personal lives,
regarding death merely a sacrifice for the sake of humanity.
From this we can see that the terrible, brutal and imprac-
ticable Bolshevism, is transformed by these fanatics into a
new religion, a creed for the international proletariat." 4 A
Russian writer says that Bolshevism is "a religious madness
that sanctifies all crimes." 5 Its power is the product of a re-
ligious exaltation. Revolution is God acting in man and
through man. Its onward sweep is the movement of the
Divine Being. According to the poet of the Russian revolution,
Ivanov-Razumnik, Bolshevism is a fiery hurricane that is
crossing Russia, and bearing the seeds of spring.
It goes towards the West; it upsets the world. It is cru-
cified by its foes, but rises from its grave. The Revolution
is eternal and unchangeable. It is the Absolute.
As a religious system, Bolshevism naturally tends to op-
pose the forms of religion that repudiate its principles. In
Russia, its natural enemy was the Russian Church. We need
not be surprised, then, if Russian Bolshevism in its attempts to
extirpate the institutions of the past, assumed from the outset
* A. Carasso, The Imitation of Cain. A Few Words on Modern Russia, Frederick,
Md., 1921, p. 60.
8 Serge De Chessin, Au pays de la demence rouge, Paris, 1919, p. 300. "Bolshevism
as a social phenomenon is to be reckoned as a religion, not as an ordinary political
movement . . Among religions, Bolshevism is to be reckoned with Mohammedanism
rather than with Christianity and Buddhism. What Mohammedanism did for the
Arabs, Bolshevism may do for the Russians." B. Russell, Bolshevism: Practice and
Theory, New York, 1920, pp. 117, 118.
1921.] FAILURE OF THE RUSSIAN CHURCH 201
an hostile attitude towards Russian Christianity, and made its
destruction a starting point in its programme.
A recent historian of Bolshevism, H. N. Brailsford, writes
that "there is full religious tolerance in Russia, but the Com-
munistic party is fiercely anti-clerical and conducts an unre-
mitting controversy with the Orthodox Church, certainly the
most grossly superstitious form of belief that survives in the
civilized world." 6 Of course, there is a grain of truth in these
bold assertions. Bolshevism proclaims that it champions re-
ligious tolerance. Its utterances are belied by the facts. The
Russian Church, in turn, is infected with superstition. But, as
a Church possessed of sacramental life, and voicing the word
of God, she preserves the riches of Catholic doctrinal inherit-
ance. That Church was for centuries the palladium of Russian
nationalism, the strongest support of Russian autocracy. The
history of Russia is largely her history for the Russian people
in their form of government, to quote Vladimir Solovev, were
a theocracy. "The Russian Church," writes De Chessin, "was
the soul of the Russian people. She was so, in spite of her
constant decay and decline into a clumsy bureaucratic ma-
chinery, a spiritual police of despotism. For centuries she
had worked as the only source of enlightenment, and the
only true bond of national unity. The history of Russian
grandeur is inseparable from the history of the old monas-
teries with battlemented walls and Byzantine cupolas. The
Patriarch was a second Tsar, and without the cross, the sword
was powerless. To the crown of the heroic princes, the
Church added, by their canonization, the crown of holiness." 7
Why then did "the Russian people, apparently the most re-
ligious, the most Christian in Europe, surrender themselves,
tied hand and foot, to a dozen Jewish adventurers, and burn
their sacred icons? Why have they preferred the kingdom of
Antichrist to the emperor of the faithful, according to the of-
ficial term of the Orthodox liturgy? Why have they given
themselves up to the dynasties of Bronstein, Apfelbaum and
Rosenfeld? One thousand years have been wiped out! We
are witnessing a new passion, a new Calvary. The chosen
people have hurled down their Lord." 8
The powerlessness of the Russian Church in face of the
6 The Russian Workers' Republic, New York, 1921, p. 150.
7 De Chessin, op. cit., p. 296. 8 Ibid., p. 299.
202 FAILURE OF THE RUSSIAN CHURCH [Nov.,
Revolution is the consequence of an incurable disease that
paralyzed her. She lost her vigor in her isolation from West-
ern Christianity, in the worship of those political maxims
which led the Eastern Churches to lamentable disaster. The
Russian Church broke with the cultured classes, and lost her
hold upon the peasantry. Her influence rested upon the
crumbling foundations of autocracy, and when they were
shaken, she followed in the ruin of Tsarism. Bolshevism in
achieving the destruction of the old political regime, found no
obstacle in its attempts to de-Christianize Russia and to in-
flict a Neronian persecution on the clergy.
The Russian Orthodox Church made her own grave, and
in it the Bolsheviki laid her bleeding body. During the nine-
teenth century she lost both the nobility and the intelligentsia.
The Russian nobles despised a clergy composed of ignorant
Mujiki, the offspring of generations of serfs. A material 
