Full text of "The Catholic world"

See other formats

O >u a r 1 o .

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

TERATURE AND SCIENCE.

VOL.
APRIL, 1896, TO SEPTEMBER, 1896.

NEW YORK :

THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,
120 WEST 6oth STREET.

1896.

THE CoLUMSui PRESS, 120 WEST 60iH ST., NEW YORK.

CONTENTS.

Adelaide Anne Procter. — Alice C. Kel-
logg, 521

Alleluia, ....... 51

Amarilli Etrusca and the Roman Read-
ing-Circle Movement. (Illustrated^)
— Mane Roche, .... 665

American Celt and his Critics, The. —

Walter Lecky, 355

American Museum of Natural History,
The. (Illustrated).— William Se-

ton,LL.D., 8

Andalusia, A Tale of. — K. Von M., . 170
Anglican Orders Valid ? Are. — Rev.

Charles /. Powers, . . . 674, 812
Baptism of Clovis, The. (Frontispiece '.)

Brave Priest, \.-Wilfrid Wilberforce, 218
Canadian Women Writers, Some. (Il-
lustrated.') — Thomas O'Hagan,

M.A., Ph.D., 779

Checkmated Each Other.—/7. M. Edse-

las, 796

Chinese Holy Island, A. (Illustrated.)

— T. H. Houston, .... 445

Christian Socialist : Viscount de Melun,
A great. (Illustrated.)— Rev. F. X.
McGowan, O.S.A., .... 754

Church and Social Reform, The.— Rev.

Francis Howard, .... 286

Church in the Sandwich Islands, The.

(Illustrated.)— Rev. L. W. Mulhane, 641

Columbian Reading Union, The, 133, 280,
424, 568, 711, 850

Convention of the Irish Race, The, . 573

"Conversion" of Prince Boris, The.

(Illustrated.)— B. Morgan, . . 318

Corporal of Orvieto, The Most Holy.
(Illustrated.)— Rev. Wilfrid Dallow,
M.R. S.A.I. 39

Daughter of Mme. Roland, The.— A. E.

Buchanan, ..... 435

Delinquent, The. — Dorothy Gresham, . 466

Editorial Notes, 416, 559, 709, 844

Ethiopian's Unchanged Skin, The. (II-

lustrated.)--John J. O'Shea, . . 227

Evolution of a Great City, The. (Illus-
trated.)—John J. O'SAea, . . 682

Eye-Witness to the Armenian Horrors,

An, 279

Famous Rings, Some. (Illustrated.) —

M.J. Onahan, 254

Farm-Hand in Old England and in New,

The.— F. W. Peily. B.A. Oxon., . 242

" Father Callaghan in Manner, Activity,
and Devotion to his Work strongly
resembled the earnest Founder of
the Mission." (Frontispiece.)

Features of the New Issue, Some : Sil-
ver or Gold. — Robert}. Mahon, . 717

Fifty Years of American Literature. —

W. B. McCormick 619

Forsworn.— John J. O'Shea, ... 83

Frances Schervier and her Poor Sisters.

—Joseph Walter Wilstach, . . 261

Germany in the Fifteenth Century.— Jos-
eph Walter Wilstach, . . .720

" Good Instruction shall give Grace."

(Frontispiece. )

Half-Converts. — Rev. Walter Elliott,

C.S.P., 429

Hanging of Judas, The. — JohnJ. O'SAea, 534

His Eminence Cardinal Sembratowicz,

Archbishop of Lemberg. (Frontispiece.)

Immigrant, Handling the. (Illustrated.)

— Helen M. Sweeney, '.'".' . 497

John Harvard's Parish Church. (Illus-
trated.)— fesse Albert Locke, . . 98

Labors of the Printing-Press, Early. —

Charles Warren Currier, . • . 59

Land of the Jesuit Martyrs, In the. (Il-
lustrated.) — Thomas O'Hagan,
M.A., Ph.D., 71

Love of the Mystics, The. — A. A. Mc-

Ginley, 509

Mary of the Blessed Sunshine. — S. M.

H.G 597

Matthew Arnold's Letters. — Charles A.

L. Morse, . . . . . 486

Miners of Mariemont, Belgium, The. —

James Howard Gore, . . . 456

"Missionary Box," How We Packed

the. — Robert J. Anderson, . . 200

Montmartre and the Sacred Heart. (Il-
lustrated. ) — Rev. John M. Kiely, . 398

Negroes and the Baptists, The. — Rev.

John R. Slattery, Baltimore, . . 265

New Era in Russia ? Is it to be a. (Il-
lustrated.) 525

Out from the Guarded Portal of the
Tomb stands forth the Master, Ra-
diant, Transfigured. (Frontispiece.)

Painting in the Convent Parlor, The, . 740

Party, for the State, or for the Nation,

For the, in

Pilgrimage Churches in the Tyrol. (Il-
lustrated.)—Charlotte H. Coursen, 626

Priest of the Eucharist and his Aposto-
late, The. (Illustrated.)— E. Lum-
mis, 184

Question of Food for the People, The.
Charts. — Alice Worthington Win-
throp, 768

Religious Order and its Founder, An
extinct. (Illustrated.)— J. Arthur
Floyd, 343

Reminiscences of Constantinople after
the Crimean War. (Illustrated.) —
One of the English Embassy, . . 581

Ruthenian Cardinal, The New.— B.J.

Clinch, . . " « • . . . 141

Saint, A. — Paul Bourget, . . . 296

Salic Franks and their War-lord, Clovis,
The. (Illustrated.) — John J.
O'Shea, . •' 823

Shoe in Symbolism, The. — Right Rei'.
Camillus P. Maes, Bishop of Coving-
ton, Ky., . . '. 0 . . . 3

Subject to Change. — Helen M. Sweeney, 382

Supersensitive Constitutionalism. — Rev.

Thomas Me Millap, . . . .119

Talk about New Books, 124, 271, 405, 546,

C9S, 832

COXTEXTS.

Tangle of Issues in Canada, A, . . 544

Tennyson's Idyl of Guinevere. Por-
trait.—P. Cameron, D.C.L., . . 328

Turf Fires Burn, Where the.— Dorothy

Greskam, 634

Unjust Steward of the Nations, The.

(Illustrated.)— John J. O'Shea, . 371

Venice, An Evening in. (Illustrated.}

— -I/. M., 478

Walled City of the North, The. (Illus-
trated.)— Rev. B. J. Keilly, . . 157

War of the Sexes," " The.— John Paul

MacCorrie, 605

What the Thinkers Say, 4^. 561, 846

Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall
be bound in heaven ; and whatsoever
ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed
in heaven. (Frontispiece.)

Where the Sun Shines Bright. (Illus-
trated.}—M. J. Rior dan, . . 208

Women of the Old Regime, Some great, 656

Word-Painting of Dante, The.— Anna

T. Sadlier 746

York Minster and its Associations. (Il-
lustrated.)—J. Arthur Floyd, . 725

Zilpah Treat's Confession, ... 23

POETRY.

Beat! Misericordes. — Francis W. Grey, 633

Beat! Mundo Corde.— Francis W. Grey, 520
Blessed Mary. (Illustrated:)— Julian E.

Johnstone, . . . . . 196

Celtic Lullaby.—/. B. Bollard, . . 241

Cupid's Coming. — Walter Lee ky, , . 207

Death, At. — George Harrison Conrard, 811

Feast of Years, A, 654

Free \\"\\\.—Afary T. Waggaman, . 381

Longfellow. — Charleson Shane, . . 753

Love and the Child. — Francis Thompson, 285

Meditation, A. — Viator, . . . 545

Mountains. — Mary T. Waggaman, , 155

Nature's Antiphon. — Caroline D. Swan, 49
Paths are Peace, All the. (Illustrated.)

— Marion Ames Taggart, . . 294
Resurrection, The. — /esste Willis Brod-

head, i

St. Joseph.— William D. Kelly, . . 82

Success, A. — Mary T. Waggaman, . 533

" Surge, Arnica Mea, et Veni ! " — Alba, 370

Wallflower, A. — Walter Lecky, . . 496
War and Peace. (Illustrated.} — John

Jerome Rooney, .... 354

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Adam Johnstone's Son, .... 408
Alethea : At the Parting of the Ways, . 706
Armenia and Her People, . . . 699
Art and Humanity in Homer, . . 412
Books and their Makers during the Mid-
dle Ages, 405

Brother and Sister : A Memoir and the
Letters of Ernest and Henriette

Kenan 412

Catechism of the Christian Religion, A, 707

Church and the Age, The, . . . 842

Cinderella, and Other Stories, . . 409

Circus-Rider's Daughter, The, . . 126
Commentary of Cornelius a Lapide,

The great, , 838

Diary of Samuel Pepys, M.A., F.R.S.,

The, 412, 703

Edouard Richard: Acadia : Missing
Links of a Lost Chapter in Ameri-
can History, 276

Education of Children at Rome, . . 704

Elise : A Story of the Civil War, . . 275

Evolution and Dogma, .... 130

Faces Old and New, .... 275

Father Talbot Smith's "Our Seminaries," 841

Handy Andy, . . . . . 546

Holy Church in the Apostolic Age, . 839
Institutiones Theologies in Usum Scho-

larum, 129

Isle in the Water, An, .... 128

Jeanne d'Arc : Her Life and Death, . 832
Jesus : His Life in the very Words of

the Four Gospels, .... 705

Jewels of the Imitation, .... 555

Lady of Quality, A, .... 271

Lost Christmas Tree, Amy's Music Box, 129

Lyra Celtica, 551

Lyra Hieratica, 411

Marcel la Grace, 547

Maynooth College : Its Centenary His-
tory, 414

Meg : The Story of an Ignorant Little

Fisher Girl, 833

Memorial of the Life and Labors of
Right Rev. Stephen Vincent Ryan,
D.D., C.M., second Bishop of Buf-
falo, N. Y 698

Monastic Life, from the Fathers of the

Desert to Charlemagne, The, . . 556
My Will : A Legacy to the Healthy and

the Sick, 410

Notre Dame du Cenacle, . . . 835
Nature of an Universe of Life, . . 704
Outlaw of Camargue, The, . . . 273
Outlines of Dogmatic Theology, . . 707
People's Edition of the Lives of the

Saints, 409

Poems and Ballads, .... 701
Recollections in the Life of Cardinal
Gibbons, Passing Events in the Life
of Cardinal Gibbons, Collections in
the Life of Cardinal Gibbons, . . 835
Retreats given by Father Dignam, . 409

Rome, 553

Ruling Ideas of the Present Age, . . 415
Saints of the Order of St. Benedict, . 549
Sermons on the Blessed Virgin Mary, . 276

Social Problems, 834

Summer in Arcady, A, . . . . 548
Supply at St. Agatha's, The, . . . 274
Tan-Ho : A Tale of Travel and Adven-
ture, 124

Text Books of Religion for Parochial

and Sunday Schools. I. The Primer, 275

Tom Grogan, 548

Traits and Stories of Irish Peasantry, . 273
Truth of Thought ; or, Material Logic,

The 837

Visit to Europe and the Holy Land, A, 550
\Vonderful Flower of Woxindon,

The 408

Writings of James Fintan Lalor, The, . 125

OUT FROM THE GUARDED PORTAL OF THE
TOMB STANDS FORTH THE MASTER, RADIANT,
TRANSFIGURED.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIII. APRIL, 1896. No. 373.

BY JESSIE WILLIS BRODHEAD.

OFT rose the dawn into the dusky heavens ;

Pale from the tragedy its trembling light
Had witnessed on the hillside of Golgotha,
Ghost-like and wan, the vanquisher of night,
Spreading its white wings in the solemn silence —

Wings with a portent burdened, all unknown —
Upward the gray dawn floated, thrusting westward
Shadowy darkness down through the perfect zone.

Into the silence rings a bird-note, flute-like,
Liquid with rhapsody of matin hymn.

Touched by the trembling sweetness of the music,
Flutters a petal from the blossomed limb.

With the awaking ecstasy of nature,

Out from the guarded portal of the tomb
Stands forth the Master, radiant, transfigured,

Light of the fading, dawn-encompassed gloom.
Over the low hills, down the sheltered valleys,

On the dim splendor of the Temple's crest,
Bathed in the creeping glory of the morning,

Forgivingly the Master's glances rest.

THE RESURRECTION.

[April,

Triumph, my soul, o'er intervening ages !

Take to thyself the dauntless wings of Faith ;
Shed from thy spirit mortal chains and fetters ;

Rise from this shroud of unbelief, O wraith
Of restless human longing ! Lift thy pinions

Into the silence of the Easter morn,
Soar o'er the battle-fields of human reason,

Strewn with their pale-browed victims, travail-worn.

Nay, falter not ! Schismatic, pagan, sceptic,

With empty hands upturned on Nature's breast,
Stir faintly 'neath the passage of thy pinions —

A spirit whisper o'er their dawnless rest.
Leave them behind, e'en as they left their riches,

A royal treasure to the wise of earth ;
They missed but one thing to themselves essential :

They fathomed Death but failed to fathom Birth.

Turn from their sightless eyes. Upon a hillside

Stands, there, a God in noblest human guise,
With wounds upon His hands, His feet, His forehead,

And wounded love lying within His eyes.
Rest at His feet ; and in the waking morning,

Illumined by the tender light above
The broken tomb, read thou anew thy lesson

Of Faith divine born of eternal Love.

1896.] THE SHOE IN SYMBOLISM.

THE SHOE IN SYMBOLISM.

BY RIGHT REV. CAMILLUS P. MAES, BISHOP OF COVINGTON, KY.

ATHOLICS have often been taunted with the fact
that no one can approach the Pope of Rome
without kissing his toe, implying that the sacrifice
of one's self-respect and a mark of servility are
expected by the Catholic High-Priest from all be-
lievers. How many are there, even among the well informed, who
have explained this act to the satisfaction of the fault-finders ?

Perhaps they have said that it is the cross on the shoe or
slipper of the Pontiff which is the object of the osculatory
reverence ; but the unreasoning prejudice is only mitigated, not
removed. The fact is that it is actually the shoe of the Pope
which is kissed, independently of the golden cross usually em-
broidered on the upper of his official foot-gear.

Why is it done ? There is a good reason for every ceremony
in Catholic usage and worship. The most casual rite of the
church's functions and of the ceremonial connected with the
official acts of her ministers has a raison d'etre, a historical or
symbolical reason worthy of the attention and respect of the
learned and of the educated.

We venture to say that there is better reason for kissing
the Pope's shoe than for the gallant token of kissing a lady's
hand, to which few of our critics would seriously object on the
ground of undue respect.

The act of kissing the shoe of the Pope is without doubt
an act of respect and submission to his supreme authority, but
it does not imply the least degree of servility to the scholar
who traces its origin from the days when public acknowledg-
ment of authority, civil as well as religious, was considered a
manly virtue. That affectionate homage rendered to the Father
of all the faithful is readily traced to the act of vassalage
which the nobles of a kingdom rendered to the king of the realm
in feudatory times. The notables who held their fiefs under
the crown gathered once a year at court, to do homage for
their holdings ; and the kissing of the shoe of their liege lord
was the customary form in which that recognition of the rights
of the general government represented by king, emperor, or
pope was originally expressed.

Nor must we forget that only the noblemen of the nation

4 THE SHOE IN SYMBOLISM. [April,

were admitted to the ceremony of kissing the shoe of the sover-
eign enthroned with all the official paraphernalia of legitimate
authority; for that service of vassalage was the service of prowess
and valor, which only those who had distinguished themselves or
who were heirs to titles of distinction were allowed to render.

Thus this act of reverence was given originally by dukes,
counts, and other officials who were beholden to the pope for their
territorial authority, just as it was given by men of the same rank
to the sovereign of the kingdom of whom they were the vassals.

The undying spirit of democracy, which is ever alive in the
church, soon levelled all distinction of rank between the faith-
ful in their spiritual father's house, and all were eventually ad-
mitted to what was originally the privilege of the few. So that in
reality the act of kissing the shoe of the Pope is the survival' of
one of the most prized privileges of feudal times to which only
the better class were admitted. Hence it argues more eloquently
for the dignity of the Catholic laymen and for the equality of
all in Christ's kingdom on earth than for their obsequiousness.

So much for the respectability of the origin of that ceremony
of kissing the Pope's shoe, which modern usage upholds with
that respect for olden times which the conservatism of the
church of all ages never allows entirely to lapse.

But how came that ceremony to imply an act of reverence?
From the very remotest antiquity the shoe has been the symbol
of authority and power. King David was fully acquainted with
its meaning, for he says : " Into Edom will I stretch out my
shoe : to me the foreigners are made subject " (Psalm lix. 10).
Solomon, describing the many surpassing qualities of his bride,
praises not only her beauty but emphasizes her royal rank :
" How beautiful are thy steps in shoes, O Prince's daughter ! "
(Cant. vii. i). In olden times a suzerain king used to send
miniature shoes to the kings and princes who paid him tribute
or held their power under him, with the injunction to carry
them on their shoulders in the presence of their court retinue.
This they did, walking barefooted, on the day appointed for
the recognition of their subordination to the sovereign.

Christ, being the Sovereign King of heaven and of earth,
always appears shod in the early Christian paintings. It is only
when the traditions of Christian art began to be disregarded
under the influence of a revival of pagan methods, and art cut
loose from all symbolism to seek mere artistic triumphs, that
the figure of Christ appeared stripped of his foot-gear. The
pope being the representative of Christ, always came forth for
the celebration of the holy mysteries with shoes on his feet.

1896.] THE SHOE IN SYMBOLISM. 5

Later on, the bishops, being the shepherds of the flock, assumed,
with the other sacred vestments which symbolize the various
garments of Christ and the duties of their office, a pair of
shoes richly ornamented, expressive of their authority and of
their duty of going forth to evangelize the world, agreeably
to the text of Scripture : " How beautiful upon the mountains
are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, and that preach-
eth peace" (Isa. Hi. 7; Nah. i. 15; Rom. x. 15). And to this
day, when they celebrate, pontifically, the divine mysteries, the
bishops put shoes, leggings, or slippers on their feet, praying :
*' Shoe, O Lord, my feet in preparation of the Gospel of peace,
and protect me with the cover of thy wings."

" To win one's shoes " was said of the nobleman who con-
quered in combat and thus came into legitimate possession of
his title of knighthood, ending his tutelage under another knight.
4'To win one's spurs" is the more modern expression of the
same thought, and applies to all who pass from dependency
unto the liberty of self-relying men in mechanical or profes-
sional avocations. It would strike one as a strange paradox
that the modern expression is the more knightly of the two
did we not reflect that in these days everybody wears shoes.

Whence the old saying : " I wish I were in his shoes."
Here again the shoe is the symbol of possession of mastership.
It means : I wish I had the authority, the power, the possessions
that are his ; that I had his good fortune. Many find out by
sad experience the truth of old Fletcher's saying : "'Tis tedious
waiting for dead men's shoes," which typifies the position or
possessions which a man is to leave to the impatient benefi-
ciaries who look for his death.

One of the striking features of the wedding festivities among
the ancient Saxons consisted in the bridegroom putting his
foot in the shoe of the bride, and the latter stepping into the
shoe of the husband. That interesting ceremony betokened
the union of the married state and the power over the body
which it confers to each over the other's. The modern custom of
throwing a slipper or an old shoe after the married pair, when
they first set out together after the marriage ceremony, is a re-
minder of the same import. The same idea of possession may be
traced in the custom of German children placing their shoes in
the chimney-corner on the eve of St. Nicholas or of Christmas
<lay. Whatever is deposited in their shoe or in their stocking,
•which is not a wide departure from the original idea, is their own.

Nor do we now wonder at the superstitious practice of their
ancestors, who, convinced that wherever dead-lights hovered

6 THE SHOE IN SYMBOLISM. [April,

over the ground by night gold was to be found, used to throw
their shoe on the spot where it appeared, claiming the next
morning the right to dig for it. That staking out of a " gold-
burn " temporarily suspended the rights of the owner of the
soil to the treasure-trove.

From what has been said it is easy to understand that the
fact of " taking off one's shoes " became a sign of reverence to-
authority, resigning authority, acknowledging mastery, or giving
up one's rights. When Moses drew nigh unto the burning bush
he was told : " Come not nigh hither ; put off the shoes from
thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground "
(Exod. iii. 5) ; and under like circumstances Josue " took off
his shoes, fell on his face to the ground and worshipped
God" (Josue v. 15-16). To this day Arabs and Turks take
off their shoes whenever they enter a mosque or a temple, out
of reverence for the God whom they are about to adore. And
the same spirit of reverence enforces the still prevalent custom
of leaving their shoes at the door when they enter the home of
an official, or even of a friend. That ancient custom of the
Eastern lands, which Jesus Christ sanctified by his corporal
presence, is religiously preserved in the Catholic Church during
one of the most striking ceremonies of Holy Week.

When on Good Friday the officiating priest has uncovered
the crucifix and carried it reverently to the cushion whereon it
is to receive the veneration of the faithful, he takes off his
shoes and, in his stocking feet, he prostrates three times before
he kisses the five bloody wounds of the crucified Saviour's
hands, feet, and side.

When Isaias was inspired by God to prophesy the captivity
of Israel he was ordered to take off his shoes from his feet
and to go barefoot (Isaias xx. 2-3), to symbolize the loss of
liberty of the Jewish people and the fact that their dominion
had been taken away from them. Again, in the Gospel we read
of the prodigal son who by riotous living had become a bare-
footed and ragged and starving keeper of swine. He returns
to his father, and a ring is put on his hand and shoes on his
feet, to signify that he has been restored to all his filial rights
under the paternal roof (Luke xx. 22).

Under the Old Law a man had a right to his sister-in-law
when she was left a childless widow. He has to " take his de-
ceased brother's wife, who by law belongeth to him." But if
he will not take her and "refuseth to raise up his brother's
name in Israel, the woman shall come to him before the an-
cients and sha41 take off his shoe from his foot, and his name

1896.] THE SHOE IN SYMBOLISM. 7

shall be called in Israel the House of the Unshod," that all
the people might know that he had relinquished his claim to
the inheritance of his brother (Deuter. xxv. 7-9-10).

The book of Ruth, iv. 7, tells us how Boaz acquired his
right to marry his kinswoman and to secure her inheritance by
the same ceremony, as it " was the manner in Israel between
kinsmen, that if at any time one yielded his right to another,
that the grant might be sure, the man put off his shoe, and
gave it to his neighbor. This was a testimony of cession of
right in Israel."

In the New Law the men who give up all their rights of
possession, authority, and personal liberty, by making vows of
poverty and obedience, such as Franciscans, Dominicans, Capu-
chins, Augustinians, and Passionists, give up the wearing of
shoes. In their monasteries, and even on the street in Catholic
countries, where they never doff their religious habit, they walk
barefooted, or at best in sandals, mere soles attached to their
bare feet with leathern thongs.

To carry the shoes of another, to take them off and put
them on again, was the most obsequious service that one could
render to another. Among' the Jews this was considered slave
service. To the question : " How does a slave prove that he
is his master's property ? " the Talmud answers : " He loosens
and ties his master's shoes, and he carries them after him when
he goes to the bath." And in another place that Book of
Scribes teaches " that all manner of service which a slave ren-
ders to his master a pupil also owes to his teacher, except the
latching of shoes."

Hence we understand the wonderful humility of St. John
the Baptist, who declared himself " not worthy to carry the
shoes of Jesus Christ " (Matt. iii. 2), and who declared him so
much mightier than himself that he said " he was not worthy
to stoop down and loose the latchet of his shoe " (Mark i. 7).

Meanwhile we render the honored service of children to the
representative of Jesus Christ, His Vicar, by a filial kiss planted
upon the foot-gear, symbol of his spiritual authority. How dif-
ferent this affectionate token of reverential regard from the ab-
ject servility of the slave of olden times, who put his head under
the foot of the tyrant master and then laced his shoes ; ay, and
of the base slavery of the modern fop who puts decency under
foot and kisses the slipper of a dancer with as much guilty
complacency as old Herod who rewarded Salome's lascivious
dancing with the head of the Baptist !

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

BY WILLIAM SETON, LL.D.

" Without my attempt in Natural Science I should never have learned to know mankind
such as it is. In nothing else can we so closely approach pure contemplation and thought, so
closely observe the errors of the senses and of the understanding, the weak and the strong
points of character. All is more or less pliant and wavering, is more or less manageable ; but
Nature understands no jesting ; she is always true, always serious, always severe ; she is al-
ways right, and the errors and faults are always those of man. Him who is incapable of
appreciating her, she despises ; and only to the apt, the pure, and the true does she resign
herself and reveal her secrets " (Conversations of Goethe ; from the German by John Oxenfortf).

HACUN a son gout" is a true saying, and we fear

many will not agree with us when we tell them
that the most interesting place to visit in New
York is the Museum of Natural History. It is
so easy to reach by the elevated railroad — less
than a half hour's ride brings you to it — that there is positively
no excuse for ignoring this treasure house, filled with nature's
beauties and wonders. And the best way to go through the
museum is to take the lift, which carries you in a minute to the
topmost story, from whence you may descend on foot and view
the different halls without the fatigue of mounting stairs. The
library and reading room — open to everybody from ten to five
P. M. — are on the highest floor ; and here you find a collection
of 30,000 volumes relating to natural history, in the care of
Anthony Woodward, librarian, while in the admirably lighted
reading room are many scientific magazines as well as every
convenience for study. On the same floor is an excellent dis-
play of Indian relics from North and South America, while the
Emmons collection from Alaska is certainly unique.

EXTINCT MONSTERS.

Having visited the library and examined the Indian relics,
the first curiosity to which we draw your attention is a plaster
cast of Phenacodus Primcevus, described by Cope. This ex-
tremely ancient animal, whose almost perfect skeleton was found
in Wyoming, was about as big as a sheep. It had, as you ob-
serve, five toes on each foot, each toe ending in a nail which
is neither hoof nor claw, and, judging from its foot-bones and
its unmodified teeth, it was probably carnivorous as well as her-
bivorous. Phenacodus is one of the most important of recent

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

fossil discoveries, for it is the most generalized typical mammal
that has yet come to light, and it was probably the common
ancestor of all existing ungulates or hoofed animals, and per-
haps also of the existing carnivora. How many ages ago since

PHENACODUS.

it lived you may imagine when we tell you that this skeleton
was found at the base of the Eocene — the first division of the
Tertiary ; and when we place this epoch at more, than a million
years in the past, geologists and palaeontologists will not dis-
agree with us.

The next fossil animal to claim our attention is the Atlanto-
saurus. Unfortunately we have only a thigh-bone of this gigan-
tic reptile, which was discovered by Professor Marsh in the
upper Jurassic strata of Colorado. The thigh-bone, as you see,
is about six feet long, and, if the rest of the body was at all
in proportion, we may not unreasonably picture to ourselves an
animal somewhat like a crocodile, whose whole length may well
have been eighty feet, and its height, if it stood erect, was per-
haps between twenty and thirty feet. From this bone of the
Atlantosaurus turn to yonder skeleton of the great extinct Irish
deer.

This beautiful creature — a true cervus — gets its name from
the fact that its remains are most plentiful in Ireland. But
they have also been unearthed from cave deposits both in Eng-
land and on the Continent. The Irish deer may have been con-
temporary with later man, with man of the neolithic age ; but
this is uncertain, and as neither Caesar nor Tacitus mention it,
it very likely did not exist at the time of the Roman invasion

io AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

of Britain. The Irish deer surpassed in size the largest moose
of Canada, and in several skeletons the antlers have measured
between eleven and twelve feet from tip to tip. Its remains
were first discovered in the Isle of Man, and are described by
Cuvier in his " ossemeus fossiles" But they are not found in the
peat, as many erroneously imagine, but in the true boulder clay
underlying the peat, which clay is a product of the ice-sheet of
the glacial epoch, and this would indicate that the Irish deer
was contemporary with the woolly rhinoceros and the mam-
moth, which animals, there is good evidence to show, lived along
with palaeolithic, or early man. The Irish deer may, however,
have lived on to more recent times, from the fact that its bones
in several cases retain their marrow as a fatty substance and
burn with a clear flame.

Among the mammals which are still in existence, but which,

like the seal, are
doomed to an
early extinction —
at least in North
America — is the
Florida Manatee,
of which we have
a good specimen.
It belongs to the
diminishing order
of Sea-cows or
Sirenians, the
largest and most
remarkable of the
order being Stel-
ler's seacow,*
which became ex-
tinct a little more
than a century
ago. The Mana-
tee is herbivorous,
and aquatic in its
habits, and on its

THIGH-BONE OF ATLANTOSAURUS. fins are rudimen-

tary nails, which may help to throw light on its ancestral history.
After the Manatee look at the whale, which, as you know,

* First discovered by the German naturalist, Steller, who was cast away with Vitus Behr-
ing on Behring's Island, 1741.

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

is not a fish ; it has merely assumed the aspect of a fish. The
fore-limbs have become modified into paddles, while in some
species the vestiges of hind-limbs are still to be found within
the body. Some of the largest whales are almost one hundred

IRISH DEER.

feet long, and weigh about one hundred and fifty tons. These
monsters belong to the finback species. As we have said, this
mammal's fore-limbs have been changed into paddles ; but the
whole anatomy of the paddles is quite unlike that of a fish's
fins. The resemblance to fins is altogether external, for the
paddles reveal the typical bones of a true mammalian limb, and
this is just what we might look for on the theory of descent
with modification of ancestral characters. Even the whale's
head, so like the head of a fish, retains all the bones of the
mammal skull in their proper anatomical relations one to the
other, while the unborn young of the Baleen whale, from which
we get the whalebone, have rudimentary teeth which never
pierce the gums. Now, these teeth in the embryo of a whale
would be an enigma except for the Recapitulation theory, which
tells us that structures which at one time were of use to the
ancestors of an existing animal appear in the unborn young of
the latter, because of the tendency of all animals to repeat in
their own development their ancestral history. Indeed the
whole structure of the whale is an admirable lesson in evolu-
tion. Here we quote Romanes :* " The theory of evolution sup-

* Darwin and after Darwin, vol. i. p. 50.

12 AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

poses that hereditary characters admit of being slowly modified
wherever their modification will render an organism better suited
to a change in its conditions of life." And speaking of whales,
the same high authority adds : " The theory of Evolution in-
fers, from the whole structure of these animals, that their
progenitors must have been terrestrial quadrupeds of some
kind, which gradually became more and more aquatic in their
habits."

From the whale turn to what is perhaps the most singular
of all existing mammals, viz., the ornithorhynchus or duck mole.
This little creature, which is about twenty inches in length,
belongs to the small order of the monotremes. It is sugges-
tively archaic and stands at the very base of the mammalian
series ; indeed from its affinity to birds we might consider or-
nithorhynchus as only nascent mammalian.

Its habitat is South Australia and the island of Tasmania ;
it is aquatic in its habits, has webbed feet like the feet of a
duck, a horny bill armed with teeth — which appear, however,
only in the very young and are lost in the adult — and it lays
eggs, two at a time, which, until recently, were believed to be
birds' eggs.

EXISTING MAMMALIA.

Having briefly examined the ornithorhynchus, look at yonder
grayish, cunning-looking animal, which in our college days at
Mount St. Mary's, Emmittsburg, used to interest us a good deal,

SKELETON OF WHALE, SHOWING RUDIMENT OF HIND-LIMB.

although not at that time for scientific reasons. This creature is
the opossum, which now interests us from the fact that it is the
sole representative of the marsupial order in the New World.
Judging by a few teeth and other bones, the earliest mammals to
appear in geological time (Triassic) were non-placental or reptilian

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY,

mammals, which sub-class includes the monotremes and the
marsupials. Now, a marsupial is a mammal whose embryonic
development is completed outside the body of the parent, in a
pouch (marsupiuni), and hence the opossum, which is a marsu-
pial, may be termed a reptilian mammal, for in the reproduc-
tion of its young it approaches reptiles. And here we may ob-
serve that true placental mammals — that is, mammals whose
entire embryonic development takes place within the uterus, do
not appear before the tertiary age ; before this age — divided
into the Eocene, Miocene, and Pliocene epochs — both the birds
(as we know by Archceopteryx] and the mammals were still rep-

ORNITHORHYNCHUS.

tilian, and the links which connected the bird and mammal
branches with the reptile stem were not obliterated. The opos-
sum, therefore, like the ornithorhynchus (which is even somewhat
lower in the scale of organization), presents us with an exceed-
ingly primitive form of mammal life. And here we may re-
mark that when the very few persons who nowadays object to
evolution ask to be shown the missing links, the intermediate
forms — which on this theory must have existed — they forget
that true links are not directly intermediate : the veritable kin-
ship is that of branches of a common stem. Now, the evidence
which is derived from the earliest stages of mammal develop-
ment, undoubtedly supports the theory of descent from a com-
mon ancestor. The highest authorities agree on this point.
But if the reader wishes to read what is best on this subject
we refer him to the tenth chapter of Darwin's Origin of
Species.

14 AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

From the opossum we turn to the kangaroo, which is also
a marsupial and the largest of the order.

In the illustration we perceive a young one peeping out of
the pouch. The kangaroo is an inhabitant of the Australian
region, and is most abundant in what has been aptly termed
the fossil continent of Australia. For the whole mammal fauna
— insectivorous, carnivorous, and herbivorous — of this immense
island is highly archaic, and consists (excepting the bats and
animals introduced by man) entirely of the sub-class of non-
placental mammals, which is made up, as we know, of the mar-
supials and the monotremes, and which, as we have already
said, appeared before the tertiary age, in which age placental
mammals are first discovered.

Not far from the kangaroo is a graceful little black and
white animal which we do admire and which affords us an ex-
cellent example of warning coloration — we mean the skunk. It
is hardly necessary to state that it possesses a highly offensive
secretion which it throws at its enemies, and hence the great
use to the skunk of these black and white colors : they are an
advertisement and a warning. As soon as you perceive these
conspicuous colors in some bush, or in the dusk, you do not
hesitate to about face and run, even if you have a club and
a pocketful of stones. Nor will any dog, except the very brav-
est, attack this otherwise defenceless creature. And let us ob-
serve that it is commonly held by men of science that warning
coloration has been brought about through natural selection.
That is to say, in the ancestral form the animal whose colors
ever so slightly varied in the direction of safety, would naturally
have some little advantage and more chances to survive. And
then through heredity, variability, and the continuous operation
of natural selection, these at first slightly warning colors would,
generation after generation, age after age, slowly, surely, tend
to become more and more conspicuous and perfect, until they
became what they are to-day. This may seem very strange to
the general reader. But remember what man, who has not
been working nearly so long as nature, has been able to ac-
complish in a few generations through artificial selection.

Among other things, from the common, wild crab-apple man
has produced the golden pippin. And speaking of his and
Wallace's theory of natural selection, which, as we know, has
done so very much to spread the ancient doctrine of evolution,
Darwin says:* " It may metaphorically be said that natural

* Origin of Species, p. 65.

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

selection is daily and hourly scrutinizing, throughout the world,
the slightest variations ; rejecting those that are bad, preserv-
ing and adding up all that are good ; silently and insensibly
working, whenever and wherever opportunity offers, at the im-
provement of each organic being in relation to its organic and
inorganic conditions of life. We see nothing of these slow

KANGAROO.

changes in progress until the hand of time has marked the
lapse of ages, and then so imperfect is our view into long-past
geological ages that we see only that the forms of life are now
different from what they formerly were."

THE MASTODON.

Let us now pause a moment before yonder gigantic skele-
ton. Those are the bones of a Mastodon.

1 6 AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

This ancient animal was allied to the mammoth, and it got
its name from Cuvier, who so named it in order to dis' nguish
it from the latter. Its remains have been unearthed in a num-
ber of places in the United States ; and it is interesting to
know that of all quadrupeds none were at one period more
widely distributed over the globe than the Mastodon. It roamed
from the tropics to as far as 66° north latitude. The evidence
of geology proves that it represents an older form of life than
the mammoth. The Mastodon first appears in the eocene
epoch, which is the first division of the tertiary ; and in Eu-
rope it disappears at the close of the following epoch, the mio-
cene. But in America it lived on well into the post tertiary,
until what is called by archaeologists the palaeolithic, or old
stone age ; and there is good reason to believe that, like the
mammoth, it lived along with early man, who not unlikely was
the chief cause of its extinction.

The last mammals to which we call your attention are the
monkeys, of which our museum has a fine collection.

THE APE FAMILY.

Our illustration represents one of the highest of the group
— a so-called anthropoid ape. The apes include the gorilla, the
chimpanzee, and the orang-outang ; and the illustration is that
of a chimpanzee, whose habitat is tropical Africa. And here,
without entering into the vexed question of kinship between
such an animal and the body of man, we ought not to prejudge
the matter by looking at it through subjective, a priori specta-
cles. Within proper limits the so-called simian hypothesis is
not against faith, nor is the hypothesis less tenable because
direct, intermediate forms have not come to light. In natural
history, while there may be descent from a common ancestor,
connecting links are seldom discovered. We know, however,
by comparative anatomy that the differences between man and
the apes are distinctly less than between the apes and the lower
monkeys ; and for those who believe in the Recapitulation theory
it is a significant fact that the apes and man still possess a few
caudal vertebras below the integuments, and at a certain stage
of the embryonic life of both a caudal appendage is very evi-
dent. Now, according to the Recapitulation theory, we have in
embryology a record of the history of the past, and the results
of recent researches would seem to justify the general conclu-
sion that embryology and palaeontology tell about the same
story. But whatever light further researches and discoveries-

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

may throw on this important question, it will only affect the
snbst itnm, the body of man ; man's spiritual soul was an im-
mediate, special creation of Almighty God, and man was not
truly man until he was given a spiritual soul.*

GIGANTIC BIRDS.

We come now to the birds. But there are so very many of
these that we can look at only a few. Among those which
have become extinct, yonder huge skeleton is that of the Moa,
an ostrich-like bird, which formerly inhabited New Zealand,
where it was exterminated by the natives, probably not much
more than a century ago.

It is an interesting fact that the eggs and bones of another

MASTODON.

gigantic bird — CEpyornis — have been found in the island of
Madagascar, which is on the other side of the Indian Ocean.
Now, as none of these big birds could fly — the moa had scarce-
ly a trace of wing-bones — it may be asked how they got to
New Zealand and Madagascar. Well, the better opinion is that
they all sprang from a common ancestor, whose home was in
the great northern continental area, and which made its way by
degrees southward across land that is to-day buried under the
sea. We may thus form some idea of the great changes which
we may not unreasonably suppose to have occurred in the

* For the last word of anatomy and palaeontology on the subject see Primary Factors of
Organic Evolution, by Cope, pp. 150-171. November, 1895.

VOL. LXIII. — 2

1 8 AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

geography of our globe: and a continent in the Pacific Ocean,
for which the name Limuria has been proposed, may really at
one time have existed. Has not the theory of the permanence
of ocean basins been pushed a little too far ? The nearest
ally of the moa is the diminutive Apteryx, which is living to-day
in the same island, New Zealand, and of which our museum
has several specimens. But a marked difference between the
extinct and the living bird is that the apteryx possesses the
rudiments of wing-bones, whereas the moa, as we have said,
has hardly a trace of them. In regard to the loss of the
power of flight we quote Darwin : * " As the larger ground-
feeding birds seldom take flight except to escape danger, it is
probable that the nearly wingless condition of several birds, now
inhabiting or which lately inhabited several oceanic islands
tenanted by no beast of prey, has been caused by disuse. The
ostrich indeed inhabits continents and is exposed to danger
from which it cannot escape by flight, but it can defend itself
by kicking its enemies, as efficiently as many quadrupeds. We
may believe that the progenitor of the ostrich genus had habits
like those of the bustard, and that, as the size and weight of
its body were increased during successive generations, its legs
were used more and its wings less, until they became incapable
of flight."

Not far from the apteryx is a specimen of the Great Auk,
a native of the .Newfoundland region and which became ex-
tinct within the present century. And this is a sad reminder
that before another century is past many a bird and many a
mammal, which is now in existence, will have become extinct,
like the great auk.

THE WOODPECKER.

But why, you may ask, is yonder pole placed in the Bird
Hall ? Well, that represents part of a telegraph pole, and if you
'go nearer you will see that it is perforated with holes and in
every hole is an acorn, put there by the California Woodpecker
for food during the winter ; and you even see one of these wise,
provident birds at work pecking another hole into the wood in
which to hide another acorn.

From the woodpecker turn to the cat-bird, which most
people imagine has no cry except that of a cat. And does not
this show how wanting too many of us are in the important
faculty of observation ? For there is no songster that can give

* Origin of Species, p. 108.

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

out sweeter notes than our dear American cat-bird. And how
many a country lout shoots it because, forsooth, it steals a few
cherries ! Well, has it not a right to a little fruit, since it
destroys myriads of harmful insects and by so doing actually
puts money into the farmer's pockets?

Not far from the cat-bird we come to a fine collection of
humming-birds. And remember, this tiniest and most gorgeous-

CHIMPANZEE.

ly-tinted of birds is peculiar to America ; it exists nowhere
else. And let us add, it exceeds all other birds in its powers
of flight. In our Eastern States we have only the ruby-
throated kind, which arrives in May and departs in October.
But there are four hundred species of humming-birds in the
tropics. And we may remark that it is a mooted question
among naturalists, whether the beautiful colors of certain birds
are due to sexual selection, as Darwin proposed, or whether

20 AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [Aprilr

they are the physical equivalent of greater vigor, as Wallace
maintains.

CURIOUS INSECTS.

But we have no more space to give to the birds ; nor can
we do more than glance at the insects. Of these there is a
good display of butterflies, moths, bees, and ants ; and observe
that gigantic South American spider called the Bird-Spider,
because it is big and powerful enough to entrap small birds.
And it is well to know that animals and plants — so widely
apart in the scale of nature — are nevertheless bound together
by interesting and complex relations. Darwin tells us * that
the common homey-bee cannot fertilize the red clover ; it is not
able to reach the nectar. The fertilization is brought about by
the humble-bee.. Then Darwin continues: "Hence we may
infer as highly probable that if the whole genus of humble-bees
became extinct or very rare . . . red clover would become
very rare or wholly disappear. The number of humble-bees in
any district depends in a great measure on the number of field-
mice, which destroy their combs and nests ; and Colonel New--
man, who has long attended to the habits of humble-bees,
believes that ' more than two-thirds of them are thus destroyed
all over England.' Now, the number of mice is largely depen-
dent, as every one knows, on the number of cats ; and Colonel
Newman says : ' near villages and small towns I have found the
nests of humble-bees more numerous than elsewhere, which I
attribute to the number of cats that destroy the mice.' Hence
it is quite credible that the presence of a feline animal
in large numbers in a district might determine, through the
intervention first of mice and then of bees, the frequency of
certain flowers in that district." Of the ants perhaps the
less we say the better, as it is hard to stop when we begin to
speak of this most interesting of all insects. The ant, we know,
keeps another tiny insect — the Aphis — in order to milk it, as it
were. That is to say, it causes the aphis to excrete a kind of
juice by stroking it on the abdomen with its antennae, and this
juice the ant is very fond of. The aphides, however, do not
excrete it solely to please their keepers ; there is no evidence
that any animal does any thing in order to please or benefit
another species. The better opinion is, that the excretion
serves to carry off waste products; it is extremely viscid, and
if no ant happens to be near by (which very seldom happens)

* Origin of Species, p. 57.

1896.]

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

the aphis is obliged to eject it. But no doubt it enjoys the
sensation of getting rid of the juice by being tickled on the
.abdomen. Mr. Belt, in his classic work, The Naturalist in
Nicaragua, tells us that a certain species of ant actually turns
gardener and cultivates a diminutive fungus on which it feeds.
For a long time this almost incredible fact was doubted. But
quite recently a German entomologist, after a careful study of
this ant, has fully confirmed what Belt relates.

And now that we have finished our very hasty walk through
the museum, let us conclude by saying that before many weeks
another hall is to be opened to the public, and in this hall will
•be exhibited new and wonderful fossil remains discovered in

MOA.

the Rocky Mountain region ; and we doubt if there will then be
more than two or three other museums in the world which will
have a collection of tertiary mammals equal to ours.

ADVANTAGES OF THE MUSEUM.

As a last word, we recommend the students of the Catholic
colleges in and near the city of New York, as well as our
seminarians, to visit the museum occasionally ; it will be like a
breath of fresh air to them. A good deal of our book-teaching
is only useful as mental gymnastics, and after exercising and
racking the brain over some puzzling volume we are often no
wiser than before. It will be well, however, before we go to
the museum to prepare ourselves a little to intelligently enjoy

22- AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. [April,

what:\we 'shall see there ; and to this end, we might read
Darivin'i-'qnd after Darwin, the very last work of the late
lamented G. J. Romanes. We know of no better hand-book
for the general reader, who is not a professed naturalist. Then
having read it, we shall find the beauties and the numberless
curiosities in the wonderland of nature stimulating and quicken-
ing our mental powers as nothing ever did before. The faculty
of observation, which till now has lain dormant, will be
thoroughly awakened and we shall learn for the first time to
observe, compare, and contrast. And, moreover, by developing
a love of nature, may not some young persons be made less
cruel to the birds and beasts around them ? Almighty God
has put them here to serve us, but we should not be heartless
masters. And when we consider the marked advantages for
every branch of study which the city of New York presents,
we cannot help regretting that -the Catholic Summer-School did
not decide to hold its annual meetings here, instead of
hundreds of miles away in the country. Our museum has not «
many equals. We shall before long have a good menagerie
and a botanical garden, and we believe that what we are say-
ing is only the echo of what many another person thinks, who
travels to the Summer-School on Lake Champlain.

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION.

ZILPAH TREAT'S

N the year of our Lord 1800, in the early morning
twilight of the ist day of May, a strange scene
was passing in a quiet village in New England.
In an open square in the centre of this village
was its church. About the church stood many
pairs of oxen hitched to freshly painted wagons, covered high
with new canvas. These wagons were filled with household
goods, leaving space only for the family to sit.

Within the church the entire community had assembled ;
there had been words of admonition from the pastor, hymns of
praise and prayers for blessings from the congregation. As
they were about leaving the church an aged woman, known in
the village as Aunt Axy Treat, arose to speak to them. She
was a woman of unusual learning, and her opinion was sought
on all important subjects ; yet for her to " speak in meeting "
was an unheard-of-thing, and the whole assembly, amazed, stood
and listened. " My friends," she said, " you are going into a
new country to seek your fortunes. I beg of you, let not the
love of money drive from your hearts the love of God. Be
honest, not only to your neighbors but to your own house-
holds. Give them the best it is possible for you to give, and
know that for them love and contentment are more to be
desired than riches. Beware, beware of the greed of gain ! It
destroys love, honor, and friendship. It gains its mastery step
by step, and so silently that before one is aware he is wholly
subject. Once more, I say to you, beware ! "

Silently the company left the church. With tears and quiet
leave-takings, half of the entire village filled the wagons, and
before the sun had risen started on their long and perilous
journey. They were not vagabonds and paupers ; they were
God-fearing, law-abiding, prosperous householders, who, for the
promise of the future, were willing to endure the hardships
and dangers of a new country.

Before autumn they reached Ohio, and then they founded a
New England village ; the same in name and customs as the
one they bravely yet sorrowfully left on the memorable May
morning. For the new village they chose a beautiful valley ;
on either side were tall hills, forest-covered ; at the foot of one

24 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

a broad, swift stream flowed. Quickly trees were felled and
cabins built. The streets were carefully laid out, a large centre
square was reserved for churches. The transformation was so
great and so speedy that in a few years this forest, teeming
with wild beasts and venomous snakes, became a peaceful vil-
lage, with its churches, its school-house, its mills and shops —
a New England village with the old-time thrift and economy,
fanaticism and bigotry.

Prominent among those of its people vying to outstrip each
other in riches was Abner Treat. He had remembered for a
few months ' his mother's impressive words, but he had not
heeded them. One who, recognizing a temptation, yields, soon
loses not only the power to resist, but the ability to recognize,
and he soon without misgiving devoted all his energies to one
great purpose, money-making. The importance of this was
impressed upon his children. His only son, Samuel, by precept
and example, was made the shrewdest and stingiest boy in the
whole village.

When fifty years had passed the village had greatly in-
creased in size and dignity. Four neat churches adorned the
centre square. There were two schools, public and private, for
children; two "seminaries for young women," and a college for
young men. There were mills and shops, and all the appurten-
ances of a prosperous town. All rivalry in society, politics, and
religion was confined to the two leading denominations, Presby-
terian and Baptist. Their social lines were fixed like the caste
lines of India. There was no commingling, socially or religiously.

Abner Treat's son Samuel was the richest man in the vil-
lage. Like his father, he was a Presbyterian. Promptly every
year he paid his five dollars towards the minister's salary of
three hundred. Every year he gave twenty-five cents for for-
eign missions. He faithfully attended all the services of the
church — three sermons on Sunday, and the Wednesday evening
prayer-meeting. Usually he spoke in the prayer-meeting,
exhorting sinners to " flee from the wrath to come." Some-
times he exhorted privately, and in every way he was consid-
ered an exemplary Christian. Twenty years before he had
taken to wife one of the fairest, gentlest girls of the village.
God had given them two children, a son and a daughter.
Samuel Treat, wholly mastered by one great passion, " the
greed of gain," was sacrificing for it love, friendship, and all
that makes life most desirable.

One pleasant morning in September of the year 1850 Zilpah,

€896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 25

his daughter, came to him in their plain, uncomfortable sitting-
:room. "Father," she said, "I would like to go to the fair;
may I ? " Samuel Treat looked up, his eyes rested on the fair
'face of his winsome daughter; he had never noticed before
how pretty she was, and a feeling of pride in her possession
seized him. " Yes," he said, and as he slowly counted two
dimes and five pennies from his purse he added, with a smile
meant to be mischievous, " There is twenty-five cents ; bring
back the change." " But, father, it takes twenty-five cents to
:get in, and I need a dress, and I want a hat." Quickly the
smile and the pleased look left his face, and one of annoyance
.and irritation covered it. " Do you think money grows on
trees?" he said. "What's good enough for your mother is good
enough for you, and young girls should not be vain ; that is all
you can have, and more than ought to be spent in nonsense."

Silently Zilpah turned and left her father. " Good enough
for mother ! " she thought. " Mother has pieced and darned
.the black silk dress she had when she was married till there
isn't a whole breadth in it ; and I and Julius growing up
with no decent clothes, no books, nothing; and he, our father,
the richest man in the village ! Every day he asks God to
bless his family. It makes me shiver when I hear it. Little
he cares for his family. He really begrudges us our food, and
indeed it is poor and scanty enough ; but if I do not use this
money for the fair, I must give it back. I will go."

The intervening days were spent in mending, washing, and
ironing the best of her scant wardrobe. Her white sun-bonnet's
ruffles were carefully crimped, and her pure, delicate face was
very beautiful in it so encircled. She had clear, ivory-colored
skin, with pink in the cheeks and cherry in the lips. She had
large, brown eyes with long, black lashes. Her eyes wore an
appealing look, as if they constantly prayed for something
always denied them. Her hair was black and it grew low on
her broad forehead. Her figure was slight but rounded. She
was eighteen years old. She borrowed a neighbor's saddle, and
taking an old horse that could not be used in harvesting, she
rode to the fair. Her way was through bits of woods, by little
brooks, past well-tended farms, and finally through the streets
of a large town. Just beyond this town were the fair-grounds.

Usually all the beautiful things, from the tiniest flowers at
her feet to the bright singing birds in the tree-tops, brought
joy to Zilpah. But to-day she rode by them all unheeding, for
her heart was filled with bitterness and anger towards her

26 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

father. At the last moment he had refused the twenty-five
cents to Julius her brother, one year younger than she, who
had worked for him hard and faithfully the whole summer
without pay. At first she wondered how things could possibly
be bettered. Then she wished some great overwhelming thing
would happen, such as a mighty tornado or earthquake, and
change the whole face of the world, and so its people. Finally
the thought came to her: "If he should die — if her father
should die — she would miss nothing, and how much she would
gain ! Mother could then rest ; she could have nice comfort-
able gowns, and make pleasant little journeys ; Julius could go
to the college, and she to the seminary. How infinitely better
everything would be ! Oh, if it could only, only happen ! But
she could not do that — No ! But God might. She would ask
him. He must see it is best so." And she prayed with all the
fervor of her young soul that God would let her father die.

After she had thought this possible, her whole ride was
filled with ecstatic visions of what could be done when the
prayer was answered. The farm buildings needed no repairing ;
the barns were much better than the house, and always in good
repair. She would build a kitchen, she would have a girl — she
selected the girl ; she would make the house so pretty with
bright carpets and curtains and comfortable chairs, and a piano
— of course she must have a piano. Then mother should have
soft woollen dresses, and stiff rustling silks, with fleecy laces for
her neck and her caps ; and Julius — she could already see him
President of the United States, he was so talented and so
industrious ; and she — how she revelled in her dainty, white-
trimmed bed-room, in her soft chintz gowns and broad-brimmed
hats, and school, music lessons, and books !

When she went into the fair the effect of this picture made
her face shine, and her friends asked her what had happened.
Then, for the first time, she realized what had happened : she
had buried her father and rejoiced over it for hours ! Her prayer
was so earnest and her vision so real that she could not stay
away ; she must go home and see. So, after a quick glance at
flowers, fruit, vegetables, and bed-quilts, she started, leaving the
horse-racing, which, with its spice of wickedness, was usually
the fair's chief attraction. How she hurried ! — she fairly panted.
When she reached the house she was astonished that there was
no unusual stir.

As she rode up to the door the first person she saw was
her father, and she listened to his fretful fault-finding. He was

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 27

examining apple-parings, and scolding because they were not so
thin as he was sure he could pare them. At the first glance
she was thankful her prayer had not been heeded. When she
came nearer and saw and heard him distinctly, the meanness,
the agony of it all came back to her, and with all her soul she
cried : " O God, let my father die ! " Day by day, week by
week, she carefully scanned her father's face — there was no
change ; there was the same active, restless life. He was a tall,
spare man, but straight and robust. With the same exasperat-
ing care he watched the pennies, and there appeared no thought
for the well-being of any one. More and more plainly Zilpah
saw her father's faults. More and more emphatically she re-
belled against them. In her heart only — there was no change
in her behavior. There had never been any caressings or
confidences between father and child in Samuel Treat's house-
hold. There was always dumb, forced obedience, respectful
silence ; but no confessions of wrong-doing, and no promises
of future goodness. Zilpah hated it all — the ugly home, the
straitened life, her mother's submission, and Julius' unpaid
toil. If it had been necessary, had there been poverty, and so
need of self-denial and work, no one would have more cheer-
fully done her part ; but there was no need ; it was all the
tyranny of a man whose God was Mammon.

" Why should he be allowed to do it ? " she thought. " Why
should not Goa interfere, and now, before it is for ever too
late ? " And the prayer always in her heart, that God would
let him die, grew ever more earnest and urgent.

One morning, late in November, Zilpah stood by a window
in the living-room, and watched the unloading of freshly cut
wood. It was one of her father's exasperating plans of economy
that their wood should be green ; " it lasted so much longer."
A little dry was provided to be sparingly used for kindling.
Zilpah wondered if, after all, she must give up all her desires
for improvement, and make her home with one of the wood-
cutters who had lately asked her to. Her father liked him.
" He was thrifty," he said. Zilpah knew that meant stingy.
" She would not bear that meekly like her mother." The wagon
was emptied and the men went back.

Still she stood at the window. " Would it be best after all ? "
she thought ; " but what if her prayer is answered ? If her
father died, then she would send this man away instantly ; then
she would study and make the best of herself ; and marry per-
haps, after a long time, some college man learned in all the

28 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

things she longed to know about, and generous, and fond of
luxurious living." She glanced out of the window. Slowly and
carefully the wagon was coming back, and it seemed to be
•empty. She looked again and saw Julius sitting in it ; her
heart stood still. "Can anything have happened to Julius?"
She hurried to the door ; there she met her mother. A man
came running to them ; his story was quickly told.

Mr. Treat was felling trees with them ; they saw one was
about to fall ; they called to him, but he did not hear, and evi-
dently he did not see it ; and it fell, striking him on the breast.
Julius was holding him in the wagon. They could not tell how
seriously he was injured; one had already gone for a physician.
Then all was bustle and confusion ; a bed was brought down
to the sitting-room, a fire kindled, and all the possible require-
ments of a physician made ready, and the dinner cooked for
the men. Zilpah had no time to think. She overheard the
physicians telling her mother that no bones were broken, but
there were, they feared, serious internal injuries ; how serious
could not be determined now. The house must be absolutely
quiet, and the medicine regularly administered. Mrs. Treat
chose to act as nurse ; Zilpah was left with the cooking and
house-work, and the day was far spent before any leisure for
thought or questioning came to her.

Then she silently crept into the room where her father lay.
The fire was burning on the hearth, its weird flickerings casting
strange lights over the room ; on the bed, pale and sleeping,
lay her father, her mother quietly watching by his side. Sud-
denly, like a heavy, unexpected blow, the truth flashed upon
her : he would die, and she had prayed for it ! Penitence and
remorse were almost overcoming her, when her father awoke
and motioned to her, and she went to him. " Is the fire out
in the kitchen ? " he said slowly and feebly ; " we can't afford
to keep two." All the tenderness and repenting vanished ; she
hastened to the kitchen, and for the first time she disobeyed
him ; she filled the stove with wood, and sat down to warm her
benumbed hands and to wait for Julius. When he came he
went directly to the sick-room ; there was lifting and preparing
for the night's nursing for him to do.

Zilpah went to her room and slept, youth and weariness
overcoming the natural nervous sleeplessness. In the morning
she hurried down stairs. " He is better," her mother answered
to her questioning. A wave of disappointment rushed over her.
"After all, would he live, and the old, narrow, hateful life go

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 29.

on ? " Mechanically she cooked, and ate, and washed the dishes.
She made no plans ; she only waited.

For hours Samuel Treat lay in what seemed to be quiet
slumber ; but a strange vision was passing before his closed eyes.
He thought his soul left his body and was immediately met by
the spirit of his grandmother, Aunt Axy Treat. He had never
seen her, but his father and the neighbors had talked to him
of her since his childhood, and he recognized her. Only a few
weeks before an old lady, who in her young womanhood had
come with the emigrants from New England, sought him, and
repeated to him his grandmother's farewell words spoken in the
church on the morning of their departure. Very quietly and
kindly she had urged him to heed them. He had roughly and
emphatically assured her that he felt perfectly able to manage
his own affairs, and would allow interference from no one. Yet
her words had been in his mind constantly, and with a desire
to resent them, and to prove his satisfaction in his way of liv-
ing, he had redoubled his efforts in economy, and become to
his household more disagreeably penurious than ever before.

When he would stay to gaze upon his body and its sur-
roundings the spirit seemed to urge him to hasten, and he fol-
lowed .her. Quickly they left all familiar scenes, and it was not
possible for him to tell how rapidly they moved, or in what
direction. On and on they went, till finally they drew near to
a wall higher than his eye could reach, and seemingly^intermin-
able in its length. When the spirit approached, a small gate
was opened by unseen hands and they went through. They
were in a large city. Its streets were narrow and laid out at
right angles ; the houses were cell-like buildings, each evidently
intended for one person only. The material of which these
houses were made was most surprising. On one street they
were composed wholly of the evil desires indulged by mortal
men, and each and every one was perfectly visible. One, and
the one which seemed to him most horrible, was the street of
blasphemies. Its homes were made of the oaths of different
nations, as evident to the eye as they had ever been to the
ear in his natural life. As he passed through this street he
thought he heard sighs and groans, but he saw no one.

The spirit hurried on till finally they came upon a scene
which filled him with hope and joy. The streets were paved
and the houses were built of coins of different nations. As he
came upon those he recognized, he thought, his grandmother, who
had brought him where money could be had for the taking, and

30 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

he should go back loaded with millions upon millions- — and all
without work. The value of the coins grew less and less as
they went on. At last they stopped before a high cell built of
five, ten, and twenty-five cent pieces. The spirit approached
this one, and, as he was wondering how he could carry enough
of such small coins, she pushed a screen away, revealing a nar-
row, window-like opening. She beckoned, and he came forward
and looked in. In the centre of the room he saw his father
carefully counting pile after pile of five cents, dimes, and quar-
ters. His face was so haggard, and he was so evidently suffer-
ing great torture, that involuntarily he stretched his hands
towards him, crying : " O father ! let me come to you and help
you ! " His father looked up, a smile of recognition came upon
his face ; it quickly passed, and the look of agony and remorse
again covered it. " No," his father said, "you cannot help me;
I must count carefully and accurately all this money ; what
follows then I know not. I have tried to influence you to bet-
ter living than mine. Sometimes I have thought I was suc-
ceeding, but I have been always mistaken ; my influence had
been too strong while I was with you. Your time is almost
come ; the house near mine, built of cents and half-pennies, is
to be your prison. Nothing can change your fate now. But
before you come to stay, go back to your family ; tell them
you love them — they think you do not ; confess your mistakes,
and ask their forgiveness. This will comfort you greatly during
your punishment ; then urge them to be charitable. They will
not follow your footsteps, but they need to do more than merely
avoid the evfl you and I have been guilty of. Do not stay ;
your time is short. Hurry back to them and make your peace
with them.

Then the meaning of this strange city came to him. The
worthlessness of the money he had sacrificed everything to
gain was shown to him. His coldness and unkindness to his
wife and children was made apparent to him, and in eager
haste he followed the spirit back. Not because his father
asked it ; for the love so long dormant filled his soul and he
longed to tell them of it, to ask them to forgive him, and to
hear them say, at least once before he died, that they loved
and trusted him.

Late in the afternoon, while Mrs. Treat sat by his bedside
watching her husband as he slept, he suddenly opened his eyes
and asked her to call Julius and Zilpah, and to come herself ;
he wished to speak to them. As they came to him a look of

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 31

love and tenderness never before seen upon his face surprised
them.

" I wanted," he said slowly and laboriously, " to tell you
that I loved you, and to ask you to forgive me — I have been
so mistaken in my life — I want you-" — but his words were con-
fused and meaningless. With great effort he struggled. There
was a message that he fought death to give them, but all in vain.

The few words he had spoken turned Zilpah's hatred and
loathing to tender love and pity. That he, the strong, self-
satisfied man, should humbly and in tears ask his children to for-
give him — it filled her with a sense of the shame and humilia-
tion that he must suffer, and her whole heart went out to him
in the desire to prevent and help. But while the struggle to
speak still held him, there came that strange unearthly look into
his face, his hands fell, and instantly the quiet of death envel-
oped him. "Oh! is it over?" Zilpah cried; "it cannot be; I
must speak to him ; I must ask him to forgive me ! "

Tenderly they led her away, and in her own room, refusing
to be comforted, she sat in speechless agony. With hands
tightly clinched, she kept still and listened while the bell on the
Presbyterian church tolled slowly, thus solemnly announcing
that one of the congregation had died. Then she counted the
strokes, forty-five, telling the people the age ; and then the
single one, that all might know it was a man that had gone.
She could see just how the people, young and old, stopped
and listened, counting the age-strokes, and then waiting. If two
followed, a woman had died ; if one, a man. She knew they
all instantly decided it was Samuel Treat, and she felt fiercely
angry when she realized that no one in the whole village would
be sorry. She steadfastly refused to see any one, and her
mother and Julius were obliged to deny her to the villagers
who flocked there to learn of her father's last moments, and to
express their sympathy.

In those days there were no nurses to be hired, no burial
robes to be bought ; and yet it was considered very unfitting to
bury one in any garments that had been worn. Women of the
same denomination helped each other in nursing and made the
burial robes. Shrouds they called them.

There was one young woman, Mrs. Hovey, a zealous Baptist,
with that Christian charity that reacheth all ; her sympathy and
help were never denied any one. She was a handsome woman,
and* her husband loved to adorn her beauty with the prettiest
things his money could buy. Her beauty and her choice ap-

32 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

parel were always pleasing. She was a nurse skilled without
training ; her touch was always soothing, and she was so faith-
ful and untiring that all physicians wanted her. When a baby
came, she soothed the mother in her agony ; she cared for the
baby, and every mother took her little one first from her arms.
Her voice was a clear, sweet soprano with a pathetic quality
usually found in contraltos only. When all hope was aban-
doned and death was near, young and old asked for her to sing
some of the comforting songs of the church when they were
dying. She never refused, but, exercising wonderful self-control
for one so young and so full of sympathy, she sang by many
death-beds. Then no fingers so deft as hers, nor so willing, in
cutting, making, and putting on the burial robes; and she did it.
all ever graciously. Many of all creeds held her dear in their
hearts, but the power of custom was so strong that only those
of her own denomination bade her welcome at their homes for
social pleasures only.

Mrs. Hovey had been asked to cut the shroud. Jane Ste-
vens, Mrs. Short, and Mrs. Brown had come to make it. Jane
Stevens was a tall, angular, unmarried woman, a seamstress;
who regularly earned twenty-five cents a day except on occa-
sions like this, when she cheerfully worked for nothing. She
was always present on all important occasions, parties, wed-
dings, and funerals ; and not waiting to be asked, she assumed
the general management. She had a brusque, imperative way
of doing things and of saying things, and she " never sp6ilt a
story for relation's sake," she said. It was her adverse opinion,
however, that she gave so emphatically to people. If she had
a good opinion of any one she spoke of it with equal earnest-
ness, but always " to their backs." " Praise to the face " she
did not believe in.

Mrs. Short was also tall and angular, and one not acquainted
with her state would immediately have pronounced her an old
maid ; partly because from long living in single blessedness she
had the air of one, and partly because she assumed a stiff, pre-
cise manner in speech and bearing. She could and did say
just as cruel things as Jane Stevens, but with such calmness
and quietness that they did not seem so acrid. She had ancestors
of whom she was justly proud ; her paternal grandfather was a
Presbyterian minister; her maternal grandfather had been a
teacher of Greek and Latin. These grandfathers gained for her
awe. and reverence from the old and mature. Her dignified
manner and stilted talk had a like effect with the young and

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 35

immature. Probably out of deference to the linguistic ancestor,
she was very particular in her choice of words ; she never
used a short one when a long one could be found in her
vocabulary ; frequently, when they were not forthcoming, she
coined words for herself, high-sounding and impressive.

Mrs. Brown was known in the village as Lucindy Brown.
Her husband lived only a few years. Since his death she had
lived on a small income, piecing it by calls planned skilfully
just at meal-time. Her chief accomplishment was gossiping, but
of a harmless sort, if such a thing is possible. It was princi-
pally the desire to hear and tell some new thing ; though, of
course, if it was something naughty the repetition was more
startling and more enjoyable. Mrs. Hovey cut the robe in
silence. The others would not allow themselves to make criti-
cal remarks concerning one of their own denomination in the
presence of an outsider.

When she had gone, and the ladies had taken their work,
carefully pinned and basted, Jane Stevens straightened herself
and said : " Did you notice Mrs. Hovey cut these breadths to go
clear over the feet ? I think the old skinflint would turn over
in his coffin, if he knew it."

" Why," said Mrs. Short, " is it not customary to cover the
feet when the circumstances do not necessitate economy."

" Law ! yes," said Jane; "but you know as well as I do
that Samuel Treat never paid for a yard of cloth when a half
yard would do ; and here is three wasted. They do say that
there are those that hold that the souls of the departed stay
around for a spell. I hope his has, and he knows it."

" You had better be a little more circumspect in your con-
versation," said Mrs. Short. " If his departed soul is present it
will comprehend you."

" I don't care," said Jane ; " I'd like to have it. He's pro-
bably found out by this time that he was of no earthly account,
and the Lord interfered by a special providence to get him
out of the way."

"Mercy!" said Lucindy, "how you talk; people that have
motes better not be pickin' out beams."

"Well, out with it!" said Jane; "don't be beatin' about the
bush. If you have anything to say, say it ! "

" Mr. Treat," answered Lucindy, " paid his subscription regu-
lar, and was always to church of a Sunday and of a week-day.
You can't say so much for yourself for four weeks ago come
next Wednesday night."
VOL. LXIII. — 3

34 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION, [April,

" I knew before you begun," said Jane, " exactly what you
was going to say. On that night I went to the Baptist girls'
entertainment. Of course I could have given my two shillings
and gone to prayer-meeting. But I didn't choose to. The
money they made all went to the Widow Harris, and the land
knows she needed it. I am not beholden to you or nobody
else, and I'd do the very same thing again. In my Bible I can
find about one allusion to goin' to meetin' ; but the times the
poor is spoke of, and the times we're told to care for 'em, you
can't count on the fingers of both hands, with the thumbs
thrown in. I s'pose my Bible and Samuel Treat's are pretty
much alike ; and will you just mention one instance when he
done anything for the poor ? "

Neither woman answered. Both felt sure there were more
allusions to going to meeting in the Bible. They remembered
one, " Not to forsake the assembling of yourselves together,"
but their recollection stopped there. Lucindy determined to
stop at her minister's and mark all the allusions to going to
meeting that could be found in the concordance in his big
Bible. Mrs. Short finally said with great dignity, " Does the
family contemplate dressin' in mournin' ? " She meant this to
seem to be a desire to check all further dispute; but they knew
as well as if she had said so that she did not answer Jane be-
cause she could not.

" No," said Jane, " since Mr. Treat was asked to give some-
thing to buy mourning for the Widow Jones, he has preached
against it from the house-tops. She couldn't go against his
opinions right at first."

"Well," said Lucindy, "just wait a spell; won't there be
high-flying times ? They say there ain't no will, and there's a
pretty snug pile for all three. My ! won't Zilpah go it ? "

" I don't know," said Jane ; " she's about the worst hurt of
anybody; she ain't been out of her room sence he died and
she scarcely eats or drinks."

" Well, it can't be grievin' for him," said Lucindy. " No
doubt she's under conviction. Standin' in the presence of death
would be likely to affect such a girl. I've no doubt she'll join
the church on the day of her father's funeral. Wouldn't it be
beautiful ? "

When they separated, Lucindy, convinced by her own thought,
told every one she met, calling at many houses, that "Zilpah
Treat was under conviction and would likely join the church on
the day of the funeral."

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 35

The funeral was over. Mechanically Zilpah had dressed her-
self and gone to the church. She had heard the minister, who
knew nothing of her father except that he paid his subscription
and came regularly to the services, eulogize him as few men
were eulogized. She had seen him lowered into the grave.
She had heard the sod fall with that sickening, echoless blow
upon the coffin lid. She had come home and again gone to
her room, refusing to be comforted.

After a few days Julius persuaded her to drive with him.
41 Why in the world do you grieve so ? " he asked. " Did you
really love him ? " — hoping he might reassure her and comfort
her. She answered : " O Julius ! are you glad he is dead ? Do
you really think it is better so ? " " Oh ! " he answered, " I
could hardly say that; I couldn't be so mean as to wish my
father dead ; but now I shall have a chance to do easily what
I had planned to do at the hardest. I had intended to run
away and earn my own living and an education. There's lots
of money, Zilpah, and we can go to school now."

But Zilpah had only heard " I couldn't be so mean as to
wish my father dead." These words kept ringing in her ears.
•"Julius, O Julius! if you only knew," she thought. "Can I
tell him ? No, he must not despise me. I will tell no one ;
after a while I shall myself forget."

Days, weeks, months passed, but Zilpah did not forget. In
accordance with her pastor's urgent solicitation, she joined the
church. The estate was settled. Her portion was a generous
one. The house was enlarged and made attractive. A girl was
employed to do the work. Her mother's sweet face had lost
its anxious, careworn look, and she wore the soft woollen gowns
Zilpah had planned for her. Julius was already distinguishing
himself at school, and Zilpah, mechanically and without interest,
was trying to do the things she had so joyously planned before
they were possible.

But the burden on her heart grew only greater and greater.
Her face was pale and her step languid. Friends advised a
change of scene, and Zilpah and her mother went to New Eng-
land, to the home of their ancestors. But no change of scene
and no physician brought back the color to Zilpah's cheeks, the
light to her eyes, and her quick, elastic step. The Great Phy-
sician did not come in answer to her pleading and lift the bur-
den from her heart. Zilpah zealously guarded her secret till
finally, when her every effort for relief had failed, she decided
to confess it to some one and be told what to do. She chose

36 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

Mrs. Hovey and immediately started for her. For the first
time in her life she stood at her door. She rang the bell and
then, trembling in every limb, she turned and hurried away.
Before she reached the gate the door was opened. " Oh ! " said
Mrs. Hovey, "did you ring more than once?" And intuitively
feeling the girl's errand to be confidential, she put' her arm
about her and drew her to her own room.

" I have to tell you something terrible," said Zilpah ; " I must
do it quickly or I shall run away." Then she told all of it,
justly, sparing neither herself nor her father.

When she had finished Mrs. Hovey said: "Why, child, God
can help you ; though our sins be as scarlet, he can make them
whiter than snow."

" I know," said Zilpah, " but he does not ; I have prayed
day and night for weeks."

" Perhaps," said her friend, " you are refusing to do what
God has commanded and he withholds the blessing till you
do it."

"What can it be?" said Zilpah.

" You have never been baptized."

"Oh, yes!" she answered, "when a little baby, and I have
lately joined the church."

" But do you not know that is not baptism ? A little
sprinkling of water on a baby's head is not being ' buried with
Christ in baptism.' You must be converted first and then bap-
tized, and God will surely bless you, for he has promised.
Come to the church — our church, if your mother is willing.
Ask the people to pray for you. Repent, believe, be baptized ;
that is all that is required."

Zilpah went away encouraged. If that was all, she did
repent ; she would believe and be baptized. Soon she had met
all the requirements of the church and the day for her baptism
was fixed. Zilpah had not " felt her sins forgiven," and some
of the good people said " that her evidences were hardly clear
enough "; and yet there was so much proof : the requirements
of the church were met, and likely after her baptism the bless-
ing would come. They told her this, and with renewed hope
and courage she waited for the blessing.

The day of her baptism came. Firmly and without hesita-
tion she walked down into the river. Her hope was so manifest
in her face that one present said afterward : " She looked as if
she expected the heavens would open and a dove descend upon
her, and God's voice assure her that he was well pleased." But

1896.] ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. 37

the heavens were as brass ; there was no dove, no comforting
voice, but bearing her burden with all its weight she came up out
of the water. Mrs. Hovey met her and wrapped shawls about
her ; and with her arms around her she rode by her side with-
out speaking, for she knew the peace had not come. As Zil-
pah was going home she whispered : " Wait till the Lord's Sup-
per ; God often appears to his people then." In quiet agony
Zilpah waited for the communion.

With the same hope and expectancy in her face, she stood
near the pulpit while the pastor gave to her and others, as was
his custom, "the right hand of fellowship." Then she went to
her seat, and with bowed head asked for the blessing with the
bread and the wine. When these were passed to her, she ate
and drank ; but the burden was not lifted.

Faithfully she did every duty. Church, social, and school
obligations were all met, but the same sad, hopeless look still
rested on her face, and the unanswered pleading always seen in
her eyes grew deeper and plainer. She sought every book on
religious topics, thinking perhaps somewhere she would find
what to do. One day in her eager search in the seminary
library she came upon a book on the Roman Catholic Church,
" an expose of the practices of that church," intended to repel
all readers.

Zilpah knew nothing of this church. She had been taught
that its people were a fanatical, misguided set, and its priests
wicked, sensual men who pardoned any sin for money. But
this book told of penance, hard and varied : of the wearing of
sackcloth and ashes before the people, thus telling all that
one had sinned and repented ; of walking with pebbles in the
shoes till the feet were sore and bleeding, when the limping
gait testified to all of the penitence ; of long prayers on stone
floors till the knees, raw and bleeding, could scarcely do their
work ; of all sorts and kinds of bodily torment, sometimes last-
ing for years, and then, when all was expiated, the absolution
free and full pronounced by the priest, God's messenger. She
took the book home. She read it over and over till she could
repeat it word for word. Here she felt was her refuge ; she
would go and confess and ask for the hardest penance, and
then the free absolution. There was no Catholic church in the
village, none nearer than a distant city.

She made her preparations for going. She made her will,
leaving all she died possessed of to be expended for the bene-
fit of girls whose fathers, for any reason, denied them school-

38 ZILPAH TREAT'S CONFESSION. [April,

ing. She gave little keepsakes to the friends she loved. She
carefully packed the few things she would carry with her, and
waited impatiently for the " Church Covenant Meeting " to
make her purpose known.

The Saturday afternoon came. In the basement of the
meeting-house the church-members had assembled. On one side
the men, on the other the women, and in front, behind a low
desk, the pastor sat. As was their custom, beginning with the
men and passing in turn around the room, each one spoke,,
telling any special religious experience of the last month.

Zilpah sat still and motionless, waiting till her turn came.
Then, rising, in clear, distinct tones she said : " My friends, I
stand before you to-day in the sight of God and the angels a
murderer. My hands are not stained with blood ; if they were,
how willingly I would give myself up to pay the penalty. My
heart is crimsoned with it, but no jury would for that condemn
me to death. I have tried in every way known to me to find
God's forgiveness. I expected it on my knees when I repented.
I expected it when I walked down into the water, and was
' buried with Christ in baptism.' I expected it when at his
table I partook of the emblems of his broken body and spilled
blood ; but it did not come. Now I am going to the church
that makes us suffer for our sins ; now I am going to the priest
to confess to him, to ask the hardest penance he can put upon
me, and then, when all is over, when peace has come, I shall
come back to you purified, and you will receive me ; you will
take me to your hearts ; you will know I have done all I could.
Oh ! do not look upon me so coldly ; think, think ! I have
murdered my father, and I must find peace ! You cannot give
it. Oh ! let me go ; in tenderness and love, let me go where
it shall come to me."

But the eyes of the people fell coldly upon her. The pas-
tor frowned upon her, and motioned to her to sit down. But
she would not.

"Can you not understand?" she said. "Willingly I would
give my body to be burned ; but you will not burn it. I can-
not, I cannot take my life myself. I cannot longer bear the
agony. I must be free ! " Her knees trembled, she sank to-
the floor. Using all her strength, she drew herself up againr
saying, " I will confess — I will do penance." Again she sank
to the floor, and again she raised herself. " I will be forgiven."
The third time she sank down, and she did not rise again. At
the feet of the Great High-Priest her soul sought absolution 1

1896.]

THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO.

BY REV. WILFRID DALLOW, M.R.S.A.I.

N the year 1263, when the Papal States were har-
assed by the Guelph and Ghibelline factions, Pope
Urban IV., whose reign was only of four years,
lived with his court at Orvieto. Here, in this
strongly fortified city, perched on a lofty moun-
tain, he carried on the government of the church in safety. As
God in his mercy often comforts his church at that moment when
her troubles seem severest, so, at this time, there occurred a
miracle in connection with, the Holy Eucharist which has never
perhaps been equalled before or since. The following is an
account of the prodigy, partly gathered by the writer during a
recent visit to Orvieto, and partly from a valuable work in
Italian by Canon Pennazzi. He has reason to believe that this
is the first description of the Holy Corporal and its shrine that
has appeared in the English language, and it is hoped that the
perusal of the account (though meagre) here given will foster
a love for so great a sacrament.

THE VIRGIN MARTYR OF BOLSENA.

It happened in the year 1263 that a German priest, whose
name is not recorded, passing through Italy, made a stay at
the small town of Bolsena, near the beautiful lake * of that
name, about six miles from Orvieto. Bolsena is an Italianized
form of Volsinii, which ancient town, situated higher up in the
country, was famous as one of the twelve capital cities of the
Etruscan League, the spoil of which when conquered by the
Romans, B. c. 280, included 2,000 statues.

This priest, called in some accounts Peter, and styled a
Bohemian from Prague, was a devout pilgrim, who had travelled
to Rome, with much labor and fatigue, to satisfy his piety " ad
limina Apostolorum." His special object in paying a visit to
Bolsena was doubtless to honor the memory of a famous vir-
gin-martyr, called Christina, whose name has for many cen-
turies been there held in benediction. In the church of this

* This lake, like those of Albano and Nemi, clearly occupies the crater of an extinct volcano.

40 THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. [April,

town is an altar over the saint's tomb in the crypt, and in the
upper part of the sacred edifice is an altar, styled " delle
Pedate " (*'. e., of the foot-prints), whereat is venerated a stone
which is said to bear the impression of St. Christina's feet.
Her name occurs in the Roman Martyrology for July 24, where
there is an unusually long notice of her sufferings, which were
very horrible : " Having broken up the gold and silver idols of
her pagan father in order to feed the poor, she was scourged,
tortured in a variety of ways, and finally cast into the lake,
with a great stone attached to her. Being rescued by an angel,
she, under another judge, suffered with constancy still greater
torments. She was kept in a burning furnace for five days ; ex-
posed to serpents ; had her tongue cut out, and at length
finished her course of martyrdom, shot to death by arrows."
Her death occurred A. D. 295, and many Italian painters have
immortalized her sufferings in their works. She was one of the
patrons of the Venetian Republic.

A TROUBLED DOUBTER.

This priest Peter, to whom God chose to manifest his power
and presence in the Holy Eucharist, is described by the oldest
records as a man of piety and virtue, but the victim of tempta-
tion as regards belief in the Real Presence. How far he was
at fault in this respect it is not for us to say. Perhaps it
would be more correct to describe him as tormented by scru-
ples, since he seems to have constantly offered up the Holy
Sacrifice, which he would hardly have done had he been sin-
fully incredulous. May we not devoutly conclude, from the
great miracle worked by God's mercy in his behalf, that,
whether careless or not in resisting temptations, he was yet an
object of pity and of love to Him who deigned to prove his
identity before an unbelieving Thomas, and by so doing com-
fort the other Apostles. So, in like manner, did God not only
open the eyes of this good priest, but also has left on record
an astounding prodigy for the pious contemplation of Catholics.

THE MIRACLE.

It happened, then, on a certain day, towards the latter part
of the year 1263, that this Bohemian priest was celebrating
Mass at the altar in the Church of St. Christina, at Bolsena,
called "delle Pedate." When he had come to that part of the
Canon where the breaking and dividing of the Sacred Host
takes place, immediately before the "Agnus Dei," a startling

1896.] THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. 41

prodigy rivetted his eyes. Parts of the Host assumed the form
of living flesh, while the smaller part, held over the chalice,
retained its original shape. (This fact, as the old chronicler
remarks, goes to prove that all the various parts belonged to
the same Host.) Blood now began to flow in such quantities
that it stained the Corporal, the purificatory, and even soaked
through, so as to mark the very altar-stone. The startled
priest, quite overcome at so unexpected a sight, and not know-
ing what course to pursue, endeavored to fold the Corporal up
as carefully as he could so as to hide the miracle from the
faithful present at Mass. But all to no purpose ; for the more
lie tried to hide the miracle, the more was it made manifest,
and that too by a fresh wonder. Each of the larger spots of
blood on the Corpora) (about twelve in number) assumed the
distinct form of the head and face of our Saviour, as in his
Passion, crowned with thorns. Peter, having arranged the
chalice and paten, and having folded up the Corporal as well
as he was able, in which he reverently placed that part of the
Host that had changed form, bore them away to the sacrarium.
On his way thither, in spite of every care on the priest's part,
some of the blood fell upon five stones of the marble floor of
the sanctuary.

So great a prodigy became noised abroad to the whole
town, and one account states that messengers were despatched
to His Holiness, Pope Urban IV., at the neighboring city of
Orvieto. What had occurred proved, as we have seen, to be a
five-fold wonder: I. One portion of the Host took the form of
flesh. II. It remains so to this day, in the great silver shrine,
after six hundred years. III. A quantity of blood flowed there-
from ; (IV.) so much so that it crimsoned the Corporal, two
purifiers, the altar-cloth, the altar-stone, and the pavement. V.
The larger stains on the Corporal took the form of our Saviour's
face and head, crowned with thorns. The stain on one of the
stones also took this latter form, as was solemnly sworn to by
Cardinal Mellins.

In deep grief of soul for his former want of faith, Peter
went off without delay to Orvieto, where, as a penitent, he
threw himself at the pope's feet. Then, giving His Holiness a
full account of the whole proceedings, he humbly asked pardon
for his hardness of heart and want of faith. The pontiff, filled
with astonishment at so startling a history, absolved the good
priest, and assigned to him a suitable penance.

42 THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. [April,

TRANSFER OF THE SACRED RELICS TO ORVIETO.

It was now determined, after due deliberation, that the
holy Corporal, with its precious enclosure, along with the afore-

v i fiSSSSP^

- <

CATHEDRAL OF ORVIETO.

said purifiers, should be brought to the cathedral of Orvieto,
where they could in a more worthy manner receive the venera-
tion of the faithful. First of all, however, it is stated that

1896.] THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. 43

those two great "lights of the church," and of the Dominican
and Franciscan Orders respectively, Sts. Thomas Aquinas and
Bonaventure, who were then living in that city, were despatched
to Bolsena, to make due inquiries into the truth of the miracle.*
Pope Urban, satisfied as to the fact that some great manifesta-
tion of God's power had occurred, commanded the Bishop of
Orvieto to go to the Church of St. Christina, at Bolsena, and
arrange for the speedy translation of the sacred treasures to
his own cathedral. This he did with the utmost solemnity ;
and, accompanied by a goodly escort of his clergy, and also of
the devout citizens, brought them in procession to Orvieto.
The approach of the bishop with his sacred brethren was duly
heralded to all the inhabitants, who displayed the utmost joy
and holy enthusiasm as became so remarkable an occasion. The
various scenes of this great function can be seen portrayed in
picturesque frescoes, which adorn the walls of the chapel of
the Blessed Sacrament, in the north transept of the present
Duomo.

The old city of Orvieto, deeply sensible of the honor con-
ferred upon her by the Vicar of Christ — an honor that was to
make her memorable in all ages — went out bodily to meet the
cortege from Bolsena. The city is built on a lofty mountain,
and beautiful must have been the sight as the pope and car-
dinals, the clergy and the monks, together with the bulk of
people, poured forth from the city walls, and down the western
declivity to the bridge across the river below, called the Rivo
Chiaro. We are told that the clergy and youths, and even
children, like the Hebrew crowd at Christ's entry into Jerusa-
lem, carried branches of olive and palm, singing spiritual canti-
cles. The Sovereign Pontiff, on meeting the bishop at this spot,
about half a mile from the city, threw himself on his knees in
humble homage and veneration. He then took possession of
the sacred treasure, which he now carried in his own hands up
the steep incline to the old Cathedral of Our Lady. Tears
of joy flowed on all sides, and that vast multitude broke out
again with holy canticles, and sang in lusty joy their loudest
hymns, until they reached the temple of God. The pope then
reverently placed his sacred burden in the sacrarium, where he
doubtless then and there made a private examination of so
great and unheard-of a prodigy.

It should here be stated that there were at that time two

* This is the account of a certain Domenico Magro. The famous old inscription on
stone, at Bolsena and Orvieto, merely says : " prius habita informatione solemni."

44 THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. [April,

churches side by side, which were afterwards pulled down to
make room for the present splendid cathedral, specially built to
house more honorably the shrine containing the " Santissimo
Corporale." One of these old churches was dedicated to St.
Constantius, Bishop of Perugia, who first brought the " light
of faith " to the old city, Urbsvetus. He suffered martyrdom
A. D. 175 (vide Roman Martyrology, for January 29). This
was called the Church of the Canons, and was used for the
daily performance of the Divine Office by the cathedral chapter.
The other, the parochial church, appertained to the bishop, and
is styled in old records Sancta Maria Prisca, S. Maria Urbisve-
teris, and St. Mary " of the Bishop."

It was in this latter church that Pope Urban reverently de-
posited his sacred treasure. His Holiness caused to be made a
kind of " burse " of some costly material, in which he placed
the portion of the Host, wrapt in a linen cloth, and the Corpo-
ral. This latter being folded into a small compass, in order to
fit this case, accounts for the twenty creases, and twenty rec-
tangular spaces,* which are visible now under the glass of the
present silver shrine. Here they reposed until this gorgeous
•enamelled monstrance, about four feet high, made of four hun-
dred and forty pounds of silver, the masterpiece of Ugolini of
Siena, 1338, was ready to receive them. It appears that in cr-
uder to adjust the holy Corporal to the space left for it, it was
necessary to cut it somewhat at the edges. What Pope Urban
did with the purifiers history does not say, but when the time
came to move the Corporal into its new receptacle, these two
other cloths, along with the aforesaid fragments, were placed in
a species of gilt casket, duly sealed up.

At various times this casket has been unsealed and juridi-
cally examined by the Bishops of Orvieto. Thus, Bishop Joseph
della Corgna, May 28, 1658, and Cardinal Ben Rocci, January
31, 1677, and April 19, 1718, in the presence of their canons
and the chief magistrate of the city, examined and venerated
the holy Corporal, identifying, also, some of the stains thereon
.as having the form of the " Ecce Homo." They, at the same
time, broke the seals of the casket and found therein the fol-
lowing: I. Parchment, inscribed "Corpus Christi repositum. Fuit
super hoc Corporale et cum summa diligentia debet custodiri "
{this was probably attached to the Corporal when first brought

*For the benefit of our lay readers we remind them that the corporal (or corporax-
cloth) is so folded as to form nine distinct squares : the chalice being placed in the centre of
Jill, and the Host on the middle of the near squares.

1896.] THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. 45

to Orvieto). 2. Strip of linen with this inscription on parch-
ment : " Benda in qua fuit involutum Corporale et residuum
Corporalis cum guttis sanguinis Christi et figuris." 3. The frag-
ments of the Corporal, above alluded to. 4. Two purificatories,
stained with blood. 5. Two silk veils, red and yellow respectively.
This casket, after careful examination, was duly locked, and
then sealed with four official seals, viz., of the Bishop, the Chap-
ter, the Cathedral Fabric, and the Municipality of Orvieto.

As regards the various stones which had been also stained
with blood, as already mentioned in describing the miracle at
Bolsena, it would delay the reader too long to write fully about
them, although the subject is one of deep interest. Suffice it
to say, that they were enshrined with due honor in the Church
of St. Christina, and an inscription put up near the altar in
1 544 runs thus :

PROCVL • O • PCVL • ESTE • PROFANI • XPI • NRA • SAL' • HIC -QV •

SAGVIS-INE.

This, being expanded, gives, according to antiquarians, " Procul,
O procul este profani, Christi nostra salus hie quia sanguis
inest."

We must not forget to say that one of the direct results of
the prodigy described in this article was the keeping of Corpus
Christi in the year following, 1264, for the first time by the
Sovereign Pontiff and the papal court. It is true that some
years previously, owing to the revelation of Blessed Giuliana,
this festival had been kept at Liege, in Belgium.

A RIVALRY IN A LABOR OF LOVE.

Pope Urban summoned to his presence those two great
Doctors of the Church, St. Thomas Aquinas* and St. Bonaven-
ture (suitably named as the " Angelic " and the " Seraphic," re-
spectively) and imposed upon them the honor and duty of com-
piling and preparing a Mass and Office for the new solemnity.
One legend has it that when their pious labors were brought
to an end they appeared before the pope to show the result.
Then as the Angelic Doctor read his office, the other saint tore
his up as unworthy to be compared with his holy rival's. An-
other account says that the Franciscan doctor paying his friend
a visit, and seeing on his table the anthem " O Sacrum Con-

* This saint was an especial favorite of this pope, and was appointed by him to be " lec-
tor " in the Dominican Convent at Orvieto, in these quaint words: " Assignamus Fratrem
Thomam de Aquino. pro lectore in Conventu Urbevetano in remissionem peccatorum suorum."

46 THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF OR VIE TO. [April,

vivium," was so enraptured with it that he went home and in
sheer desperation cast his own MSS. into the flames. Whatever
be the reason, it is certain that we have the glorious Office of
St. Thomas, before which that of Liege paled, and eventu-

THE MASTERPIECE OF UGOLENI OF SIENA.

ally disappeared. Tradition says, that when he offered it to his
Divine Master in the church, a voice came (like that of Paris
and Naples) from the tabernacle : " Thou hast written well of
Me, Thomas!" Those two beautiful fragments of his hymns

1896.] THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF ORVIETO. 47

which are used at Benediction, " O Salutaris Hostia " and " Tan-
turn ergo," are familiar to all the children of the church.

MODE OF VENERATION OF THE HOLY CORPORAL.

We conclude by describing the ceremony of exposing the
•" SS. Corporate." The clergy approach the chapel of the
Blessed Sacrament with acolytes bearing torches and incense,
and the candles are lighted on the altar. The " Lauda Sion "
is then recited. Then a canon, in white stole over his rochet
and ermine " cappa parva" mounts the nine steps behind the
altar, and with the four different keys — belonging to the Bishop,
the Chapter, the Cathedral Fabric, and the Municipality of the
City — unlocks the great iron folding doors of the lofty monu-
ment of marble in which it is kept. Then, descending, he in-
censes it thrice on his knees. The red curtain is drawn, the
silk cover is lifted off the silver monstrance, and its little doors
are thrown open. Kneeling in my cotta and stole along with
the canon, inside the small chamber of this " turris fortitudinis,"
he kindly held a taper to the shrine, and under the large
glass I beheld the outspread " Holy Corporal." The sight is
certainly very marvellous, and calculated to arouse one's faith.
There on each of the twenty spaces was a large stain or smear
of a reddish brown color, of different shades. No doubt in the
original folding of the Corporal, six hundred years ago, the
stains of blood would naturally be transmitted in a greater or
less degree over the entire cloth. Hence there are said to be
no less than eighty-three marks, of which twelve are very large.
The fragment of the Host that became transformed is seen
above, under a crystal, beneath the centre spire, or apex of the
shrine, beneath the jewelled crucifix that surmounts this marvel-
lous work of the silversmith of Siena, a wonder of sacred art !
After the opened shrine had been again incensed, the versicle
and prayer of the Blessed Sacrament were sung ; the curtain
was drawn, the four keys turned in their ponderous doors, and
we all retired.

MIRACULOUS CURES AT THE SHRINE.

In the volume (as yet untranslated into our tongue) of An-
drea Pennazzi, Canon of Orvieto, there is a long list of cures,
selected from the records carefully kept at Bolsena, which have
reference to almost every ailment of soul and body. We quote
here a few of the more remarkable :

i. Pietro Antonio, April 23, 1693, reduced by fever to the last

48 THE MOST HOLY CORPORAL OF OR VIE TO. [April,

extremity, is cured on making a vow to go bare-footed to the
church at Bolsena.

2. Marco Cardelli, Minor Conventual Friar, having suffered
from madness for two years — so that he had to be chained up
— was cured by kissing the sacred stone once stained with the
Precious Blood. April, 1693.

3. Bernadina, May 22, 1693, long bed-ridden by an incurable
disease, was cured merely by the touch of flowers which had
been placed upon the above sacred stone.

4. Valenzia Zitella, June 13, 1693, for ten years possessed by
evil spirits, as also Catharine, similarly tormented for nine
years, were both cured at the sanctuary of the miracle, at Bol-
sena.

5. Antonio Finaroli, arch-priest of Castel-di-Piero, January,
1694, dying of a malignant fever, on his vowing to say Mass at
Bolsena is suddenly cured.

We now give a few instances, where the Roman Pontiffs
have apprwed of the tradition and belief in the wondrous mira-
cle of Bolsena, at the Mass of Peter, in 1263.

1. Gregory XI., 1377, by his brief writes that "to a doubt-
ing priest at Bolsena the Sacred Host appeared in form of
Flesh and Blood, and that some spots of the Blood retained the
visible form of our Redeemer."

2. Sixtus IV., 1471, in a lengthy brief, alludes to the sacred
Corporal as "showing clearly certain stains of Blood having the
Image of our Saviour, Jesus Christ "; and speaks of the great
tabernacle of gold and silver which enshrines the Corporal as
a work " of rare genius and finest art."

3. Pius II., in 1462, paid a visit to Bolsena and Orvieto, and
adds his own opinion to that of former popes in similar words.

4. Gregory XII., in 1.577, constitutes the altar in the chapel
of the Holy Corporal an " Altare privilegiatum."

5. Pius VII., June 6, 1815, when returning in triumph to his
kingdom, gave his first Benediction in the square before the
church of Bolsena, and then paid his devout homage to the
altar where the prodigy took place.

6. Leo XII., in 1828, by special brief, conferred on Bolsena
the "Title and Privileges of a City." He describes the miracle
and ends thus: " prodigium sane mirum ex quo Pont. Max.
Urbanus IV. publico decreto solemnitatem SS. Corporis Christi
in Ecclesia universali instituit."

7. Gregory XVI., in 1841, said Mass at Orvieto, and offered
a splendid chalice to the cathedral.

1896.] NATURE'S ANTIPHON. 49

8. Pius IX., in 1857, attended by a number of bishops — among
others our present Holy Father, Leo XIII. — visited the shrine
at Orvieto, and at his own expense had the paintings of the
chapel of the Holy Corporal restored by Roman artists, Lais
and Bianchini.

Finally, Leo XIII., in 1890, raised the cathedral to the rank
of a "basilica." His brief, describing the "prodigy," writes
thus : " Thoma Aquinas et Bonaventura angelico potius quam
humane praeconis Volsiniense Miraculum celebrarunt."

In conclusion, we may state that in an aperture in the upper
part of this great shrine of the Holy Corporal, the Blessed Sac-
rament is solemnly exposed the entire day every feast of Cor-
pus Christi. The devout people of Orvieto, moreover, since 1567,
have bound themselves by vow to always keep the vigil as a
fast day.

In the Dominican Priory is religiously kept the biretta and
breviary of St. Thomas Aquinas, and the crucifix which is said
to have spoken to him.

NATURE'S ANTIPHON.

BY CAROLINE D. SWAN.

STRANGE, sweet antiphon is ever swung

Twixt earth and heaven. In drought her cry
Ascends in sharpened notes of agony,
And the swift pattering of the shower down-flung
Brings music-answer. If the frost have clung

With icy clasp to Nature till her sigh
Grow faint death-utterance, then lo ! on high
The sun's warm Jubilate, said or sung.
With prayer^for grace appeareth peace and joy,

In dewy replica. If bounds annoy,
Opens the Infinite. Through Death's minor chord,

Straight, angels hymn the rising of the Lord !
O human souls, uplifted like the flowers,

How closely clings the Father-heart to ours!

VOL. LXIII.— 4

But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us. — St. Luke xxiv. 29.

1896.]

ALLELUIA.

ITS TRADITIONAL IMPORT.

O filii et filiae,

Rex coelestis, Rex gloriae

Morte surrexit hodie —

Alleluia !

HY has this fine old hymn so fallen into disuse
in English-speaking countries ? It is found in
all our old prayer books for the use of the laity,
under the title of " Hymn for Easter," as if for
the faithful there could be question of no other.
In most of such books indeed, with Adeste Fideles and Lucis
Creator, it is the only Latin hymn given. But in modern com-
pilations of the kind it does not appear, and I have noticed it
•removed from recent editions of those that formerly gave it. I
also notice it is not given in recently published Catholic
hymnals for church choirs and schools. Its actual disuse might
well be assigned as sufficient reason for that omission. But
what, I ask, may be the reason of such disuse ? The only
plausible answer I can think of is, that the hymn is not really
a part of our Liturgy, not found in Roman Missal or Breviary,
Gradual or Vesperal. But no more is Adeste Fideles; yet
would Christmas feel like Christmas in our churches if no Adeste
came from the choir, no chorusing Venite Adoremus ? I re-
member when Easter would have as little felt like Easter if the
choir did not sing "O filii et filiae," with its familiar refrain to
be taken up for triple response by the faithful. Why, then, has
it so fallen into disuse, while Adeste Fideles remains the favorite
we know it is? Be the reason what it may, for the present I
leave the question to the consideration of those whom it more
directly concerns. I here content myself with directing atten-
tion to the artistic construction of this old Easter hymn of our
fathers ; and that, both in regard to the dramatic presentation
of its historic motive as a hymn for Easter and the lyric pre-
sentation of its paschal refrain : especially the latter, as it more
directly concerns my present purpose. Note first, I would say,
how aptly that refrain comes in for chorus in accordance with
the sense of each verse, and then how effectively the air brings
out its general character each time it is taken up by the faith-

52 ALLELUIA. [April,

ful for approving response. The whole will be thus found to
exhibit a strikingly effective presentation of what I have taken
for subject of the present article, Alleluia's traditional import
alike in regard to the thought it expresses and the way that
thought is expressed.

PHILOLOGICAL CONSERVATISM OF THE CHURCH.

Our dictionaries and encyclopaedias are content with attempt-
ing a purely grammatical account of its meaning. The same
may be said as a rule of English Protestant commentaries on
its use in the Psalms. Of course that was also the idea of those
who, in opposition to the tradition of Christendom, substituted
for it an English form of words in their " authorized " version
of the Psalter. Yet, regarding it from a merely rationalistic
point of view or that of the " higher criticism," as the phrase
now goes, surely no grammatical explanation ought to be con-
sidered a sufficient account of the import of a word so sacred,
so ancient, we may well say of such constant and universal use
throughout the religious history of mankind, as this mystic re-
frain of the Jewish Passover and the Paschal celebrations of
Christian churches of every rite from the beginning. Grammar
at best is but a part and a small part of philology, and every
part of philology ought to be employed for a really rational
explanation. But, in addition to its ancient and widespread use
as a formula of devotion, the high religious sanction given to
it as long as we know it absolutely forbids our being satisfied
with any rationalistic, grammatical, or other mere natural inter-
pretation. The true import of such a word implies more than
its literal primary or etymological meaning. There is the
thought or sentiment which it has come to express in accor-
dance with its linguistic parts and their mode of conjunction.
There is, besides, its sacramental intention, using the word
sacramental not in the sense proper to a sacrament but to those
sensible forms which theologians call sacramentalia. Then there
is its intended symbolism, and, above all, its spirit, the feeling,
the fondness, and the special character of fondness which God's
spirit energizing through his church, as of old through his
chosen people, shows for it. Tradition, therefore, which for us
now mainly means Christian tradition, the church's interpreting
voice, should be invoked to explain it. Certainly the church
wishes her children to make their knowledge of every word of
the kind as complete as philology could make it. But as cer-
tainly does she not wish their actual apprehension of any such

1896.] ALLELUIA. 53

word to be exclusively or even primarily through that, in many
ways most misleading, form of human learning. Of this word
in particular she is manifestly anxious Christians should not form
to themselves the partial, contracted, space-time determined and
sense-restricted notion which philology at its highest could give.
Hence, unlike Protestant sects, she lets no would-be equivalent
in any vernacular, even in her own ancient Latin or Greek
tongues, be ever put in its place in her approved popular trans-
lations of the Bible ; while the old word itself she constantly
employs in the way we see she does in Mass and Office ; be-
sides by her approval encouraging its introduction into hymns
for the use of the people, as we know she has done, from the
very earliest ages of her history, through Western as well as
Eastern Christendom. She clearly wishes us to learn its import
primarily and to the end mainly through the living action of
her own Divine Voice interpreting the divinely written truth
she preserves. So, from choir and altar throughout the year, but
most readily through Paschal time, the simplest of the faithful
from their earliest years may learn the main point of its im-
port, namely, that it is her mystic formula of Divine praise ; for
some special reason her favorite phrase, her almost instinctive
expression of pleasure, to the extent of being like her natural
self-utterance on all occasions of thanksgiving, triumph, or
simple joy. Those who would have a more distinct knowledge
of what it implies may turn to the words that follow or pre-
cede it in the Old Testament or the New. Or in the same
manner they may study it as presented in the church's liturgy
through the year, where it is used in such a variety of ways ;
now as invitatory, now as synthetic finale, now as joyously
interrupting cry, or, as frequently happens, in all three ways
together. A still more complete knowledge of its meaning may
be gained by attending to the character of the persons by
whom, the places where, and the occasions when it is known
to have been and still is being divinely used. The notion of it
thus presented is its true traditional import, that which the
church's living voice has ever distinctly put before the faithful.

UNIQUE CHARACTER OF THE WORD.

Now, reviewing it in this way, a way in which the daily
duty of so many compels them to view it ; and assuming it to
be, what to all in the first instance it so evidently is, one of the
church's consecrated formulas of Divine praise ; what, I ask, may
be said to be its distinctive character among such formulas, of

54 ALLELUIA. [April,

which there are so many ? When commenting on its first ap-
pearance in the Psalter, Calmet, avowedly voicing the teaching
of the Fathers, pronounced it " a kind of acclamation and a
form of ovation which grammarians cannot satisfactorily ex-
plain." A kind of acclamation — not merely exclamation, as our
dictionaries represent it — that I take to be the keynote of its
traditional import. It is in truth the divine acclamation, it is
the supreme ovation, that of Creation's superior beings to their
Creator as the Supreme. It may thus be called the acclaiming
word of the Kingdom of Heaven, the cry of the Lord's own,
their cheer for him as for ever their Lord and the Lord of the
world. So taken it means not simply " Praise " — as its acclaim-
ing verb is commonly translated — but praise from all and for
all and for ever. All praise — to the Eternal : presenting for
that thought a form of utterance which expresses on the one
hand " All praise " and on the other " The Eternal," in a way
that is wholly sui generis ; a way that, both for its acclaiming
verb and its prenominal affix as a form of divine denomination,
in ancient scriptural language, must be deemed supreme.

After some critical remarks on the word's natural as well as
traditional meaning, Genebrard observes, in his excellent com-
mentary on the Psalms : " All this I note on account of those
who would simply render it Praise God" So might I observe,
all in the same sense here noted has been so noted on account
of those of our day who in their " authorized " version of the
Psalter have substituted for it the phrase Praise ye the Lord.
In furtherance of his contention for a stronger sense, Gene-
brard proceeds to show how the acclaiming verb here means
more than simply " praise," while its affix is Scripture's mystic
presentation of the ineffable Name. Whereupon he quotes ap-
provingly St. Justin's elegant rendering of it into Greek, hymne'sate
meta melons to hon. But, he is careful to add, the church's
rulers wisely chose to retain the primitive Hebrew word rather
than put in its place any form of translation or equivalent ex-
pression, which at best could but imperfectly convey its mean-
ing. Yet commentators, he admits, might well exercise their
learning and talents in trying to unfold that meaning. His
own exposition of its acclaiming verb would be : " Praise with
jubilee, joy, and song " (cum jubilo, IfBtita, et cantu}. Upon
which I remark, it is worthy of note that old commentators
often present some such trine formula as expressing its full
signification : the formula varying somewhat according to the
writer's point of view. Genebrard here interprets it mainly in

1896.] ALLELUIA. 55

view of the thought's external expression, while another view-
ing it in the same way renders it " Praise with melody, harmony,
and song." Clearly the same thought runs through all such
explanations. It is : wholly praise or praise supremely, and
therefore in universal worship's triple way, or according to the
most solemn form of divine praise. Pursuing the same idea,
but attending mainly to the word's intrinsic signification,
another translates its acclaiming verb — " Praise, bless, and
thank " ; while yet another well remarks that to the thought of
praise it adds the sense of " joy and triumph and thanksgiving."
In old hymns a frequent equivalent presented in the way of
lyric parallelism is': " Benedictio, laus et jubilatio " ; or: " Sit
laus, honor, et gloria ! " The latter vividly recalls our own
prayerfully ascending formula : " Glory, honor, and praise be to
God ! " Irish-Catholic that may well be called among the pious
exclamations 01 English-speaking Christians. Nor should we
omit to note that it is as scriptural as it is liturgical. It is a
thoroughly Apocalyptic utterance of devotion. More, even on
the authority of the Apocalypse it may be taken for an utter-
ance formally unfolding the traditional import of our Paschal
refrain as the Divine acclamation and as such essentially trine.
A vivid sense of its acclamatory character with trine signifi-
cation is most apparent in those Alleluiatic services (Officia Al-
leluiaticd) which form such a striking feature in the liturgical
literature of the early part of the middle ages. They exhibit
a constant effort after some triple evolution of its fundamental
thought while retaining the form of universal acclaim. This
was sought to be effected in a variety of ways. Sometimes a
triple form of universal praising came before it, as : Terra, mare,
ccelum, or Sol, luna, stella — laudate Dominum ; Alleluia! Or in
the way of lyric parallelism there came after it some triple
thought of sovereign praise, generally formulated in the very
words of Revelation. Occasionally versicle and response were
simply made to accentuate the triple apposition of the Apoca-
lypse itself : " Alleluia, salvatio et virtus et gloria Deo nostro ! "
Frequently the word was distinctly referred to the Holy Trinity
in the way of direct acclamation, as in the beautiful hymn of
the twelfth century beginning " Alleluia, dulce carmen!" where,
after three verses, each evolving its proper thought of the mystic
word, we have for conclusion :

" Unde laudando precamur
Te, Beata Trinitas,

56 ALLELUIA. [April,

Ut Tuum nobis videre
• Pascha det in aethere
Quo Tibi laeti canamus
Alleluia perpetim."

DERIVATION OF THE WORD.

Possibly in view of that traditional notion some old spiritual
writers favored its derivation from Al, God; el, strong; uia, endur-
ing. This was said to have come down from the Fathers. One
certainly accepted it, though it would seem to be of Arabic
rather than of Christian origin. But whoever first thought of or
subsequently accepted that strange account of its composition
must have known little or no Hebrew, or, if any, did not take
the trouble of looking at the expression where it first appears
(Ps. civ. — Hebr. cv.) in the original text of the Psalter as we
have it. There it shows as two separate words, Allelu and ia,
and so continues for several psalms : till Psalm cxlv., after
which these two make one. Regarding it then as composed of
these two terms and retaining our traditional transcription for
each, we might say its most radical rendering would be : Give
life's all-acclaiming triple "1" (triplex sit lau'datio), or thrice hail,
therefore All-hail to I A (short for laua, or, as we now say,
/ehovah), the One who is essentially. Hence we may conclude
thought's natural first rendering for Alleluia, in English, should
be "All-hail to Jehovah \" This gives a living formula, while
retaining the word's traditional spirit, thought, and sound, and
yet remaining true to the primary sense-presentation of its ver-
bal root Allel (or as many, influenced by its Massoretic tran-
scription, now wish to say, Hallef), to cause to shine out, to fully
show forth, or glorify, the way the root shows in Halo, Hallow,
and the like. But, whatever English equivalent for it one may
prefer to retain, the main point to note is that it represents the
Divine acclamation, the supreme ovation, that of highest life at
its highest to the Most High ; that it is, therefore, at once an
all-inviting acclaim and all-acclaiming response, all calling to
praise and all-praising the First as still the Supreme, Lord of
all, and for ever.

As this it shows where we first find it in Holy Writ
towards the end of the Book of Tobias, where, after prophetic
reference to the rebuilding of the Temple as the future glory
of Jerusalem, we read : " and through her streets shall Alleluia
be sung " — sung, observe, as already Israel's universal word of
triumph and thanksgiving, its Te Deum in a cry. As this it

1896.] ALLELUIA. 57

also shows at the beginning, sometimes at the end, of the great
psalms of Divine praise specially appointed for the Temple ser-
vice. Very tellingly it thus opens the last of them all: "Alle-
luia ! Praise the Lord in his holy places, praise him in the
stronghold of his power " ; and then ends it — " Let every spirit
praise the Lord : Alleluia ! " It thus stands as last word of the
last line of the Psalter, and shows there as a form of accla-
mation wording the spirit of all its psalms of praise. But as
this it shows most tellingly where it last appears in Holy Writ,
in St. John's Revelation (Apoc. xix.): "I heard as it were the
voice of many multitudes in heaven, saying : Alleluia ! Salvation,
and glory, and power to our God, for true and just are his
judgments. . . . And again they said Alleluia ! And

a voice came out from the throne saying : Give praise to our
God, all ye his servants ; and you that fear him, little and great.
And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as
the voice of many waters, and as the voice of great thunders,
.saying, Alleluia ! for the Lord our God the Almighty reigns."
There it is clearly Heaven's acclamation, the jubilant shout of
the Sabaoth, their Gloria in excclsis Deo ! Benedicite — Magnifi-
cat— Laudate Dominum, all in one word : Allelu'ia — All-hail to
Jehovah ! So the church's first announcement of the Mystery of
Easter Eve is simply that acclaiming cry thrice repeated,
and which thenceforward becomes the special antiphon of
Paschal time. So, just like an acclamation, it marks her first
utterance, her invitatory for Matins, on Easter morning: Sur-
rexit Christus vere, Alleluia! Then notice how like an instinc-
tive cry, mixed cry of joy and triumph and thanksgiving, it
follows on each subsequent reference to the Lord's resurrection.
See, for instance, how it thus breaks through that joyous Paschal
congratulation to the " Queen of Heaven " which takes the place
of her daily Angelus : " Regina coeli laetare — -Alleluia ! Quia
quern meruisti portare — Alleluia ! Resurrexit sicut dixit — Alle-
luia." Now, read through our Easter hymn. Observe how
effectively this acclamation forms its refrain in accordance with
the narrated fact or thought or feeling of each verse ; from the
first, that which heads this article, to the one at the end, which
may be taken for synthesis of the spirit of the whole :

In hoc festo sanctissimo
Sit laus et jubilatio,
Benedicamus Domino —

Allelu'ia.

In the garden was a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid.
Sf. John xix. 41.

1896.] EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 59

EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS.

BY CHARLES WARREN CURRIER.

'T the present epoch it is hard to fully appreciate
the condition of our forefathers in the days
when books were treasures that could only be
possessed by the favored few, treasures that had
been purchased at the price of long and tedious
labor. Now that the printing-presses are turning out thousands
upon thousands of volumes, we are apt to forget the patient,
toiling monk in his scriptorium. The difficulty of reproducing
manuscripts of an author was cause that the copies thereof
were few in number, and that, although booksellers existed in
the Middle Ages, still the trade was limited. When we con-
sider the labors of those generations who had passed away
from earth before the printing-press had taken their place, we
cannot help feeling grateful that they have labored for us, for
without them the art of printing would have been deprived of
much of its value. To these heroic copyists we owe all that
we possess of Christian, as well as of pagan antiquity, and
though there are valuable works of the olden time that have
not reached us, we have every reason to congratulate ourselves
that the number of these is comparatively small. From the
labors of the copyists we may form an idea of those of the
earlier printing-presses. The former had prepared the material
which the latter seized upon with avidity, for the art of print-
ing found ready for use the accumulated treasures of ages.

INVENTION OF MOVABLE TYPES.

Hardly had the art of printing with movable metal types,
for which we are most probably indebted to the Dutchman,
Laurens Janszoon Coster, who invented it in 1445, passed from
Haarlem to Mainz, than the ceaseless activity of the press began
which has gone on increasing to the present day. At Mainz
worked Gutenberg, and that earliest of publishing houses, under
the direction of Fust and Schoeffer, the productions of which are
so much sought for by antiquarians. Fust and Schoeffer began
their labors as early as 1457, about twelve years after the in-
vention of the art. Their first work was the Psalterium. This
seems to have been the first printed work that bears a date, as

60 EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. [April,

well as the name of the printers and that of the place where
it was printed. It was reprinted in 1459, I49°» an<^ in 1502.
In 1460 Fust and Schoeffer published the Codex Constitutionum
dementis V., containing a collection of the constitutions of that
pope and a constitution of Pope John XXII. The edition, print-
ed on vellum, is adorned with capital letters painted in gold
and colors. It is exceedingly rare, so much so that very few
copies are to be found. One existed in a private collection in
Paris toward the close of the last century, but all the sagacity
of the bibliographer is required to keep track of books that
have gone through the storms of the French Revolution. Like
other works that issued from the press of the same publish-
ers, the book contains at the end an inscription attesting that
it was effected not by means of the pen but by the art of print-
ing: "Artificiosa adinvcntione imprimendi ac caracterizandi absque
iilla calami exaratione sic effigiatus : et ad eusebiam Dei Industrie
est consummatus" The same work was reprinted by Schoeffer
von Gernsheim in 1467, the year after he had separated from
Fust, and again in 1471. From Fust and Schoeffer we have,
also, the Sexti Decretalium, containing the decrees of Pope
Boniface VIII., printed in 1465. In 1473 Schoeffer printed the
decrees of Gregory IX., a very rare edition, and in 1477 the
decisions of the Rota of Rome. In 1468 he gave to the
world the Institutiones Justiniani, the first printed edition of this
celebrated work. This edition is exceedingly rare. It was re-
printed by the same publisher in 1472 and in 1476, while two
editions of the same work appeared in 1475, one in Rome and
the other in Paderborn.

REVIVAL OF CLASSICAL LEARNING.

When the impulse had been once given it was soon taken,
and Europe did not long hesitate in making use of the valuable
, discovery which was to revolutionize the world ; for, by the year
1477, while Schoeffer was still laboring at Mayence, it had found
its way to the principal cities of what we may call civilized
Europe. Strassburg followed Mayence in 1460 ; and Italy, Switz-
erland, France, the Netherlands, Spain, and England soon fell
into line. It was quite natural that among the works of anti-
quity, which lay ready to be used by the printer, attention
should be drawn to those productions of a classic past which
had antedated Christianity. A century earlier the time might
not have been ripe for Hellenic literature, Greek until quite
recently having been vastly neglected. But things had been

1896.] EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 61

surely changing, and the first streaks of the dawn of the Renais-
sance had gilded the literary horizon. Petrarch and Boccaccio in
the previous century had become enamoured of Greek antiquity,
and Cardinal Bessarion, in the fifteenth century, had attracted
attention to himself and to the language of his fathers. We
find a work of his against the calumniators of Plato, published at
Rome by Sweynheym and Pannartz, probably in the year 1490.

Attention had been drawn to Plato, but it was not till many
years later that an edition of the works of this philosopher
appeared in print. In 1482 Marsilius Ficinus published his
Theologia Platonica, and eleven years later, in 1491, his Latin
translation of all the works of Plato. In 1474 a work of
Hierocles had been published in Padua, and one of the same
philosopher beheld the light in Rome in the following year.
In 1492 the works of Plotinus, translated by Ficinus, were
published at Florence, and in the same year Ingolstadt sent
forth Porphyrius Isagoge, probably the first work printed in
that city. The very interesting publication of Jamblichus, on
the mysteries of the Egyptians, Chaldeans, and Assyrians,
beheld the light at Venice in 1497. [The edition contains also
a number of treatises of other ancient writers on kindred sub-
jects. It is highly interesting to the student of demonology.
In 1498 were published for the first time at Venice the ^vvorks
of Aristotle in Greek. Several years before, in 1476, the com-
mentary of the philosopher, Cajetan of Thienna, canon of
Padua, and uncle of St. Cajetan, on the Metheora of the same
philosopher had been printed in Padua. In 1574 the commen-
tary of Averroes on the Metaphysics of Aristotle came forth
from the press in the same city, and in the following year
Louvain printed Aristotle's book on Morals in Latin. In 1489
his book on Politics, translated into French by Nicolas Oresme,
was printed in Paris. In 1475 Naples was also contributing
its share toward making known the works of 'antiquity, for we
find in that year all the works of Seneca issuing from its press.

The Latin classics had not been neglected, for, as early as
1465, Fust and Schoeffer had published Cicero's De Officiis.
In 1482 the works of the Greek mathematician Euclid were
published at Venice. Thus we see that the field of classic
intiquities was amply cultivated toward the close of the fif-
teenth century, but the Fathers of the church and the doctors
of the Middle Ages were not overlooked. In 1473 Nuremberg
gave to the world the DC Consolatione Philosophiae by Boethius,
with a commentary by St. Thomas Aquinas ; it appeared again

62 EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. [April,

in a new edition in the same city in 1476, and a French trans-
lation was printed in Paris in 1494. In 1478 the work of
Albertus Magnus on Animals appeared in Rome, from the
press of De Luca. However, the attention of printers was not
so exclusively taken up with the reproduction of ancient works
as to neglect the productions of contemporary writers ; in fact,
it is more than likely that the activity of the press acted as a
stimulus on that of authors, as the pen of writers helped to
keep the machinery of the press in motion. Thus, in 1481
appeared the Moralyzed Dialogue of Creatures, an anonymous
work which, if it still exists, is exceedingly rare. In 1495 was
published at Bologna a work by Mathaeus Bossi, entitled Dispu-
tationes de instituendo sapientiae animo, and, a few years earlier,
another book from the pen of the same author on the true
joys of the soul had appeared in Florence. In 1471 the Liber
de Rcmediis utriusque fortunae was printed at Cologne by
Arnold Hoernen. This anonymous work was at first attributed
to Petrarch, but it seems that its real author was a Carthusian
monk named Adrian, although in 1491 a work of the same
title appeared at Cremona under the name of Petrarch. In
1468 Sweynheym and Pannartz, in Rome, published the Specu-
lum Vitae Humanae, by Rodrigo, Bishop of Zamora in Spain,
and the same work was published a few years later in Ger-
many. This book evidently made an impression, for a short
time after the edition published in Germany one appeared in
Paris, namely, in 1472, followed by another Parisian edition in
1475, afid by one in Lyons in 1477. A French translation
appeared also in 1477 in Lyons from the pen of the Augus-
tinian friar, Julian. In 1461 Nicolaus Jenson published his
Pucllarum Decor at Venice. Toward the close of the last cen-
tury this work had become so rare that a copy of it was sold
at the price of seven hundred pounds (French), somewhat more
than $265. In 1482 the Augustinian Friar yEgidius Romanus
published in Rome his work De Regimine Principum, and nine
years previously another religious, the Dominican friar, James
Campharo of Genoa, licentiate of the University of Oxford,
had published his book De Immortalitate Animae. In 1485 we
find a work on architecture from the pen of Leo Baptista
Alberti published at Florence, while others appeared on agri-
culture, military art, and various other subjects. The few
works we have cited belonging to the end of the fifteenth cen-
tury, when the art of printing was still in its cradle, will suffice
to show that the office of the printer was no sinecure.

1896.] EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 63

EARLY RECOGNITION OF THE IMPORTANCE OF THE PRESS.

Of all the inventions of human genius few, if any, have been
so rapidly developed, few were so eagerly seized upon, as this
wonderful art to which more than to all else the progress of
modern civilization is to be attributed. It opened new vistas
before the eyes of the human race, it brought mankind into
closer relationship, it made knowledge, which, thus far, had
belonged only to the favored few, to become the property of
the many, and it paved the way for the most important dis-
coveries. A new invention or discovery became known with
the greatest rapidity from one end of the civilized world to
the other. Hardly had Columbus landed on the shores of
the New World than the discovery was hailed with delight by
all the nations of Christendom. His letter to Sanchez was
printed in Rome almost as soon as it was written. At an
earlier period it would have been difficult to obtain a copy, and
now the printing-press sent out several editions to publish to
the world an account of travels that have immortalized the
name of Columbus. There are a few copies of this letter still
extant, one of which was purchased a few years since by the
Boston Public Library from a private collection in New York.

PRESS ACTIVITY BEFORE THE " REFORMATION."
We must remember that the intellectual activity to which
we have here drawn attention antedated the Protestant Refor-
mation by several years. Some have attributed the progress of
modern civilization to that gigantic uprising which severed a
portion of Europe from the mother-church, but nothing is fur-
ther from the trilth. If we study attentively the relation be-
tween effects and causes, we shall conclude that civilization
would have progressed as well under the impulse given by the
printing-press, and, no doubt, better without the disturbing ele-
ment of the Reformation. It is true that the art of printing
was a powerful engine in the hands of the reformers ; but it was
not a cause of the Reformation, which was simply the outburst
of a storm that had been brewing for centuries. The most im-
portant work of the press, the publication of ancient works,
had been carried on for years before the Reformation was
dreamt of, and though the reformers afterward contributed here-
unto, even in publishing some of the Fathers, as Fell and Pear-
son did in England, still the impulse had been given and taken
while Europe was still Catholic. Before the voice of Luther
had aroused the rebellious spirit in Europe, and one hundred

64 EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. [April,

and forty years previous to the publication of Walton's Poly-
glot in England, the great Cardinal Ximenes had himself directed
the preparation of his Complutensian Polyglot, the last page of
which was struck off shortly before his death. This work was
the pride of his life. Manuscripts were gathered from various
parts of Europe, some at a great cost, and nine eminent scho-
lars were entrusted with the work. Types in the Oriental char-
acter were not to be found, although it is supposed that He-
brew type was used in 1475. For his purpose Ximenes imported
workmen from Germany, and, in his founderies at Alcala, he
had types cast for the various languages required.

It is interesting to note the different fields where the print-
ing-press performed its labors. Germany had taken the lead,
but Italy soon came up with and equalled, if not surpassed, it
in the number of its publications. France then followed, and
Spain began to unite in the work. England appears to 'have
been slow in making an extensive use of the art of printing,
and the Netherlands, which at a later period possessed the most
renowned presses, did little or nothing in the fifteenth century.
As far as the former country is concerned, a reason for this in-
activity may be found in its unsettled condition, for from 1455,
shortly after the invention of the art of printing, until the ac-
cession of Henry VII. in 1485, England was harassed by the
wars of York and Lancaster and endless feuds concerning the
succession. However, the art of printing was introduced into
England by William Caxton, probably between the years 1471
and 1477.

Under the house of Burgundy the arts and sciences flour-
ished in the Netherlands, the art of printing was invented, the
dukes encouraged authors ; and yet it does not seem that any
important works beheld the light in that country. It is true
that this growth of art and letters belonged more to Brabant
and Flanders, for the northern part of the provinces, Holland
and Zealand, were disturbed by internal feuds between the
Hooks and Cods and the clamors of the " Bread and Cheese"
party, and we may possibly find herein a reason for the state of
apathy of the press. It was not until 1549 that Plantin established
his famous publishing house at Antwerp, and many years were to
elapse before Amsterdam would become the great printing cen-
tre of Europe.

EARLY ITALIAN PRINTERS.

Toward the close of the fifteenth century Italy was the
country in which printing flourished more than elsewhere, al-

1896.] EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 65

though, as can be seen from their names, most of the printers
even there were Germans, who, no doubt, had learned the art
in their own country. Of the cities of Italy at that period
printing appears to have flourished most at Venice, which was
then engaged in a constant struggle with the Turks. We find
Nicolaus Jenson occupied there as early as 1461, and in 1472
we again meet with him printing the Natural History of Pliny,
a work that went through several editions in Venice, Rome, and
elsewhere. It had been published at an earlier date, in 1469, at
Venice by Johann of Spire. In 1471 Wendelin of Spire and
Clement Patavinus were engaged in the same city. At Venice
also labored John of Cologne, together with Johann Manthes
von Gherretzen, Bernard de Chans of Cremona with Simon de
Luero, and the famous firm of Aldus Manutius. Rome vied
with Venice in its publications, as we may conclude from the
number of persons engaged in this labor. We find there
Sweynheym and Pannartz as early as 1468, and Pannartz pub-
lishing alone in 1475. In 1473 Udalric Gallus and Simon
Nicolaus de Luca were laboring together, but in 1478 we find
De Luca alone. In the Eternal City labored also Eucharius
Silber, alias Franck ; also called, according to the fashion of the
times, Eucharius Argenteus. There too we find, in 1482, Stephen
Planck. Padua and Florence come next. In the former city
worked Laurence Canozius, and there too labored Peter Maufer
as early as 1476, but in 1483 we meet with the latter in Venice
associated with Nicolaus de Contengo. Florence, where arts
and learning were fostered by the magnificent patronage of
the Medicis, might boast of the typographical labors of Anto-
nio Miscomino, Bonacursius, and Nicolaus Laurence the Ger-
man. Among other Italian cities where works were published
to some extent, I mention Naples, Bologna, Cremona, Parma,
Milan, Mantua, and Verona. Remember once more that all
this was before the year 1500 had dawned, and while the art
of printing was still within the first half century of its exis-
tence. If we turn our eyes beyond the Alps, we find the print-
ing-press busy at Mayence, Ulm, Ingolstadt, Cologne, Nurem-
berg, Augsburg, Brixen, Basil, Constanz, Chamb6ry in Savoy,
and Louvain in the Netherlands, where John of Westphalia was
hard at work. In France, Paris and Lyons appear to have been
the busiest in the typographical industry. In the capital Peter
Caesaris — no doubt Von Kaiser — and Johann Stol were plying
their trade in 1472. There too worked Martin Cranz, Jacques
Maillet, Marchant, and especially Verard.
VOL. LXIII. — 5

66 EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. [April,

It may also be of interest to note the character of the works
published at these various establishments ; for this depended
greatly on local circumstances — principally, I think, connected
with the patrons of such establishments. Schoeffer at Mayence
seems to have at first made a specialty of canon law ; the Con-
stitutions of Clement V,, of Boniface VIII., of Gregory IX.,
and the Decretum Gratiani were among the most important of
his productions. It appears probable, to judge from the in-
scriptions of these works, that they were published at the ex-
pense of Fust and Schoeffer, and later, of Schoeffer alone.
What moved them to devote their attention to canon law I
am unable to state, except it be that Schoeffer, being an
ecclesiastic, was especially versed in this branch of study. Others,
too, published about the same time works of this category.
Thus, Adam Rot, also a clergyman, edited in 1471 the Lectura
Dominici de Sancto Gemino super secunda partc Decretalium,
Wendelin of Spire published at Venice in 1474 Abbatis Panor-
mitani Commentarii in Decretales, and Udalric and De Luca
printed in Rome in 1473 the Summa Aurea super Titulis
Decretalium of Cardinal Henricus de Segusio. Johann Zeiner
published at Ulm in 1474 his two books De Planctu Ecclesiae,
written with the object of strengthening the papal preroga-
tives. Its author was the Spanish friar Alvaro Pelayo. In
1471 Rome witnessed the publication of the Rules, etc., of the
Cancellaria under Sixtus IV. It is thus evident that a large
proportion of the works of those days was devoted to canon
law. On the other hand, civil law was not neglected, for
though the Corpus Juris Civilis does not seem to have been
published until 1628, when it saw the light in Paris, the Institu-
tiones Justiniani came forth from the press of Schoeffer as early
as 1468, from that of Udalric in Rome in 1475, and from that
of Louvain in the same year. Riessinger at Naples published
several juridical works of Bartholi de Saxo Ferrato, and Cologne
gave to the world one by Joannes Caldrinus. Other works of
the same class were printed at Bologna, Parma, and Rome, and
Riessinger published the constitutions of the kingdom of Sicily
in 1472.

THE CHURCH AND LETTERS.

For most of the works of the ancient philosophers published
in the fifteenth century we are indebted to Italy, though we
find a French edition of the Politics of Aristotle published in
Paris in 1489, and Porphyrius Isagoge appearing in Ingolstadt

1896.] EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 67

in 1492. It is not surprising that this class of works should
have found greater attraction in the country of Petrarch and
Boccaccio, the country where Leo Pilatus had in the preced-
ing century restored the study of the Greek language ; where,
in the schools of Florence, he had read the poems of Homer.
It is true the enthusiasm for Greek learning had seemed to
expire with those who aroused it ; but at the end of the four-
teenth century it was again fanned into a flame, and Manuel
Chrysoloras accepted a professorship at Florence. Italy had
become familiar with Homer, Plato, and Demosthenes before
the art of printing had been invented. The fall of Constanti-
nople, by sending a number of emigrants to the hospitable
shores of Italy, added fuel to the flame, and the memorable
era of the Renaissance was inaugurated. The Platonic philoso-
phy became popular, for the Greek fathers of the Council of
Florence were its living oracles, and foremost among them stood
Cardinal Bessarion, the titular patriarch of Constantinople, who
fixed his residence in Italy. Theodore Gaza, George of Trebi-
zond, John Argyropulus, Demetrius Chalcocondyles, and a host
of others contributed to make known the ancient Greek writ-
ings, and George Gemistus Pletho, the master of Bessarion, had
the merit of reviving Plato under the patronage of the cele-
brated Cosmo de' Medici. Aristotle had for centuries been
followed, Plato had been forgotten ; but their works once more
appeared side by side, and the printing-press seized upon both.
Much of the merit of collecting ancient manuscripts was due to
Pope Nicolas V., the patron of scholars. He sought them
among the ruins of Byzantine libraries, he brought them from
distant monasteries — if not the originals, at least their copies —
and in a reign of eight years he had formed a library of five
thousand volumes. Before the Greek language had been intro-
duced into the University of Oxford, Italy possessed versions
of the most renowned Greek classics, for which we are princi-
pally indebted to the munificence of Nicholas V., to whom even
the sceptic Gibbon is forced to render most honorable testi-
mony. The press of Aldus Manutius was most indefatigable in
the publication of Greek works, and he printed above sixty,
almost all for the first time. Although he had predecessors in
the same field, he surpassed them by the abundance of his
labors. The first Greek book printed was the Grammar of
Constantine Lascaris, published at Milan in 1476. A beautiful
Homer appeared in Florence in 1488.

68 EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. [April,

THE MONASTERIES DEVELOP THE NEW INDUSTRY.

Original works we find published everywhere in the differ-
ent printing establishments of the time. They were generally
written in Latin, and not seldom translated into one of the
living languages. Thus, the Speculum Vitae Humanae of Rodrigo
de Zamora came out in a French version nine years after it
had first appeared in Rome. Some were originally printed in
the vernacular, like the Fiore di Virtu, an anonymous work
published in the convent of Beretim at Venice in 1477. This
book, like most of those published in monasteries, is exceed-
ingly rare, for they generally consisted of a limited edition.
We see also by this that the monasteries, which were really the
great publishing houses of the Middle Ages, soon began to
make use of the new discovery. Our adversaries frequently
assert that the church is the enemy of progress. How much
truth there is in this accusation is shown by the fact that there
is not a discovery of modern times which, as soon as it was
proved not to be fraudulent, was not seized upon and em-
ployed by that very church. Of course the Church of Christ,
consisting of a human as well as of a divine element, may in
accidental things be under the influence of the times — as, for
instance, in regard to the anticipations of Roger Bacon and the
theories of Galileo — but whenever she has recognized the value
of a discovery she has not been slow in adopting it. Thus it
was with the printing-press. A century later we find the newly
established Society of Jesus printing its own works in Rome.
In the year 1559, only three years after the death of St. Igna-
tius, the Jesuits printed the constitutions of the society in their
own house in Rome, and various other works appertaining to
their order were published in the same year and place. In
1581 and the following years their books bear the mark: In
Collegia Societatis, while those which appeared in 1559 are
stamped with the words: In Aedibus Societatis. The work
which caused the greatest sensation was the Ratio atque Insti-
tutio Studiorum Societatis Jesu, published in the college at
Rome in 1586. It took nine months to print it. The part
bearing on the choice of theological opinions raised a storm of
opposition among the other religious orders, principally the
Dominicans, who denounced it to the Inquisition. The cause
of this opposition arose principally from the fact that the
Jesuits did not consider themselves obliged to accept the
teaching of the Thomists regarding the action of the First

1896.] EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 69

Cause on secondary causes ; in other words, the pramotio physica,
which opinion they nevertheless admitted was that of St.
Thomas. With the exception of a few points like this, they
nevertheless recommended the doctrine of the Angelic Doctor.
The result was that Sixtus V. pronounced against the book,
and, in the following editions, the chapter " De opinionum delectu "
was omitted. This first edition has become exceedingly rare ;
so much so, that De Bure, in his Bibliographic Instructive,
printed in Paris in 1764, tells us that he knew of only seven
copies, one in the library of the Dominicans of Toulouse, and
the others respectively in the library of St. Genevieve in Paris,
in that of the Quatre Nations in the same city, in the collec-
tions of M. Gaignat, the Count de Lauraguais, the Due de
La Valliere, and among the books left by the Jesuits in Lyons
when they were expelled. No doubt there are other copies,
and it would be very strange if the Jesuits in Rome did not
possess one.

It is, perhaps, useless to remark that works printed in the
fifteenth century have become rare, and for this reason of great
value. Some may be found on the shelves of antiquarians,
others in private collections or in select public libraries. A
large proportion, I believe, is to be found in the Bibliotheque
Nationale of Paris, formerly La Bibliotheque du Roi. This
library is the largest in the world, containing over two million
printed volumes and about ninety-two thousand manuscripts.
One of the reasons why printed works of the fifteenth century
are rare is to be discovered in the fact that the editions were
small, seldom exceeding three hundred copies. John of Spire
printed only two hundred copies of his Pliny and Cicero, and
Sweynheym and Pannartz were reduced to poverty by their
too large editions. It was quite natural that books should be
in less demand at a time when learning was restricted to a
few, but, as in everything else, supply gradually created de-
mand.

Catalogues of books were at first scarce. The most ancient
is that of Aldus Manutius, printed at Venice in 1498. It con-
sisted of a single leaf with the title Libri graeci impressi. Al-
dus, as we have seen, was the first to print Greek works on an
extensive scale.

The binding of books in those days was in many instances
less pleasing to the eye, but in all cases far more solid, than in
our time, so that it is not rare to find works almost as well
preserved as they were three or four hundred years ago. The

70 EARLY LABORS OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. [April.

covers were often strong boards, covered with leather and
strengthened by metal hinges, corner plates, and clasps. By de-
grees a more sumptuous and elegant binding was introduced,
with designs on the covers worked in colors and gold, but the
old boards still remained for a long time in vogue. The form
of the books was generally, on account of the size of the type,
much larger than at present. The folio and quarto forms were
those generally employed, and in fact were in common use as
late as the last century.

A custom that prevailed widely in those days, and which
continued for a long time, was the abundant use of abbrevia-
tions, which were usually arranged according to a system, and,
in consequence, it was not difficult to read them. In fact
even at the present day a little practice renders one quite
familiar with them. Another peculiarity of fifteenth century
works was the use in several cases of Gothic characters, even
when the language employed was Latin.

Since then the press has made wonderful progress, and the
invention of the process of stereotyping has rendered the issuing
of following editions much easier than in the days of our fathers,
when it was necessary either to preserve the forms or reset the
types.*

* Works consulted in the preparation of this paper are : De Bure's Bibliographie Instruc-
tive, Paris, 1764 ; Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire ; Notes to Alban Butler's
Lives of the Saints, St. Cajetan, August 7 ; Macaulay's History of England; Prescott's Fer-
dinand and Isabella ; Encyclopedia Britannica ; besides practical experience gained from a de-
gree of familiarity with ancient pr'nted works and with libraries.

MEMORIAL CHURCH, PENETANGUISHENE, ONT.

IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS.

BY THOMAS O'HAGAN, M.A., PH.D.

•HERE is no part of this continent which has
such an heroic past as Canada. Its early his-
tory is lit up with the faith and devotion of
Franciscan, Jesuit, and Sulpician fathers who,
armed with naught but the breviary and the
cross, pierced the virgin forests of this land and planted there-
in the seeds of divine faith. The first explorers were mission-
aries who, fired with the double purpose of exploration and
religion, traced the course of our great lakes and rivers, bearing
to the benighted children upon their shores and banks the
Gospel of Christ.

Not a city has been founded but a priest shared in its hope-
ful labors ; not a road blazed through the wilderness but the
torch of faith led the way. It was a priest who first traversed
Lake Ontario, in a frail canoe ; first looked upon that miracle
of nature, Niagara Falls ; first skirted the shores of Lakes Erie
and Huron ; first beheld the throbbing bosom of Lake Superior,
and named the river which unites it with Lake Huron, St.

72 IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. [April,

Mary's. In a word, Canada, from ocean to ocean, received its
first impulse of Christianity, its first impulse of civilization,
its first impulse of national life from missionary priests of the
Catholic Church.

" Long before," says Bancroft, " the English missionaries had
preached to the Indians of Massachusetts and Virginia the
saintly and heroic sons of St. Francis and St. Ignatius of
Loyola had borne the message of faith to the very shores of
Lake Superior, and won to the fold of Christ thousands of the
poor benighted children of the forest who had for centuries
been immersed in the grossest and most depraving practices
of idolatry." Well might Lord Elgin, Governor-General of
Canada, call these twilight days of Canadian life and civilization
" the heroic days of Canada," for the Christianizing and civiliz-
ing torch of truth was borne into the darkest recesses of the forest
by the hand of hero, saint, and martyr ; who never faltered or
hesitated to purchase the triumph of the cross at the cost of
their own suffering and lives.

THE MISSIONS TO THE HURONS.

In the bead-roll of the early missionaries whose heroic
achievements for the faith light up with lustre the background
of Canadian history there are none whose zeal, self-sacrifice, de-

THE PORTAGE. (From an old engraving.)

votion, and suffering more entitle them to the admiration and
loving remembrance of the Canadian people than that band of
saintly and heroic laborers known in history as the Jesuit mis-
sionaries to the Hurons. These holy and apostolic men fill

1896.] IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. 73

with their heroism, suffering, and labors the pages of Parkman,
Bancroft, Marshall, and Gilmary Shea, and win from men of
every faith the most ardent admiration, veneration, and love.

In the northern and western parts of what is now the Coun-
ty of Simcoe, bordering on the Georgian Bay — where to-day are
the townships of Sunnidale, Tiny, Medonte, Tay, Matchedash,
and North Orillia — the Jesuits established their missions among
the Hurons, the chief of which were known as the missions of
St. Joseph, St. Michael, St. Louis, St. Denis, St. Charles, St.
Ignatius, St. Agnes, and St. Cecilia. Father Bressani, in his
Jesuit Relation (p. 36), puts down the total number of mission-
aries serving the eleven missions among the Hurons as eighteen.
Here are their names : Paul Ragueneau, Francis Le Mercier,
Peter Chastellain, John de Brebeuf, Claude Pijart, Antoine
Daniel, Simon Le Moyne, Charles Gamier, Renat Menard, Fran-
cis du Peron, Natal Chabanel, Leonard Garreau, Joseph Poncet,
Ivan M. Chaumont, Francis Bressani, Gabriel Lalemant, Jacques
Morin, Adrian Daran, and Adrian Grelon. Bancroft is therefore
in error, as Dean Harris points out in his excellent work on
the Jesuit missions, when he states that there were forty mission-
aries with the Hurons, and Marshall still more so when, quoting
from Walters, in his Christian Missions (vol. i.) he places the
number at sixty. Father Martin, S.J., in his appendix to Bres-
sani's history, gives the names of all the priests who served on
the Huron missions, from the Franciscan, Joseph Le Caron, who
opened the first mission to the Hurons in 1615, to Adrian Gre-
lon, S.J., who was the last of the priests to arrive in Huronia,
August 6, 1648.

STRIKINGLY SUCCESSFUL RESULTS OF THE MISSIONS.

That the Jesuit missions to the Hurons were eminently suc-
cessful in their purpose — the Christianizing of the Indians — may
be learned from the following statement of Father Bressani
in his Jesuit Relation :

"Whereas at the date of our arrival we found not a single
soul possessing a knowledge of the true God, at the present day,
in spite of persecution, want, famine, war, and pestilence, there
is not a single family which does not count some Christians
even where all the members have not yet professed the faith."

In 1638, twelve years after Father John de Brebeuf and his
two companions, Father De Noue and Joseph de la Roche
Dallion, had arrived at the Huron village of Ihonatiria, which was
situated on a point on the western entrance of what is now

IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. [April,.

called Penetanguishene Bay, the missionaries took the census of
the Huron country. It was late in the autumn and the Indians
had returned from their hunting and fishing expeditions. Two
by two they travelled from one end of the country to the other
taking note of the number of villages, counting the people, and
making topographical maps. When they had collected all sta-
tistics the results showed 32 villages, 700 lodges, 2,000 fires, and
12,000 persons who cultivated the soil, fished in Lake Huron,
and hunted in the surrounding woods.

WARS OF THE IROQUOIS AND HURONS — FATHER DANIEL SLAIN.

As I have already stated, the Hurons occupied the northern
and western portion of Simcoe County, Ontario, embraced within

DEATH OF THE! PRIESTS LALEMANT AND DE BR£BEUF.

the peninsula formed by the Matchedash and Nottawasaga Bays,,
the River Severn and Lake Simcoe. The Huron league was
composed of the four following nations : the Attigonantans,.
Attigonenons, Arendorons, and Tohontaenrats, and known to the
French as the nations of the Bear, the Wolf, the Hawk, and
the Heron. They derived the modern title of Huron from the
French, but their proper name was Owendat or Wyandot.

Between the Hurons and the Iroquois, those tigers of the for-
est, there had existed for years a deadly feud. The latter were
the most warlike and ruthless among the American Indians,
In the spring of 1648 a large war-party of them crossed the
St. Lawrence, and, pushing their way by lake, stream, and

1896.] IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. 75

forest, fell upon the Huron settlement with the most blood-
thirsty ferocity, and, setting fire to the villages, put to death
or led captive nearly the whole population, including many of
the missionaries. The first mission to be attacked was the vil-
lage of St. Joseph, near where now stands the beautiful town
of Barrie at the head of Kempenfeldt Bay. Father Daniel, who
had arrived in Huronia in 1633, had charge of this mission.
He was pierced through with arrows and bullets as he stood in
the door of the chapel encouraging his people with the words,
" We will die here and shall meet again in heaven." Father
Daniel was the first of the priests in Northern Canada to
receive the martyr's crown, and is known as the " proto-mar-
tyr " of the Hurons.

TORTURE AND MARTYRDOM OF FOUR PRIESTS.

The other priests to suffer martyrdom at the hands of the
Iroquois were Father Gamier, Father Chabanel, Father Lale-
mant, and Father de Brebeuf. Nothing could exceed the fiend-
ish cruelty and torture to which the brave-hearted Brebeuf and
the gentle Lalemant were subjected at the hands of these Iro-
quois demons. They were stripped of their clothing, tied to a
stake, and, after undergoing every manner of atrocious torture
and mutilation, slowly burnt to death.

To Mr. Douglas Brymner, Canadian archivist at Ottawa, is
due the credit of having discovered and given to the public, in
1884, an original document bearing upon the martyrdom of
Fathers Brebeuf and Lalemant. This document is in the form
of a letter written by Christopher Regnant, coadjutor-brother
with the Jesuits of Caen, and companion of Fathers Brebeuf
and Lalemant, and is dated 1678.

Doctors Gilmary Shea and Francis Parkman, who are usu-
ally very accurate, are in error, however, when they state that
the remains of Father Brebeuf were permanently interred at
the Seminary of St. Mary's on the Wye. They were brought
to Quebec — the bones having been previously kiln-dried and
sacredly wrapped in plush. The skull of the martyred priest is
preserved in a silver reliquary in the Hotel Dieu at Quebec,
and may be seen by any one desirous of venerating the sacred
relic.

These heroes of the faith have passed away, and the chil-
dren of their care, for whom they suffered martyrdom, have
well nigh all disappeared save a small remnant who settled at
Lorette, some thirteen miles from Quebec. There may be

IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. [April,

found dwelling to-day all that remains of that mighty race of
hunters and fighters once known as the Huron Nation.

But the memory of the heroes, saints, and martyrs who
sanctified our forests with their sacred footsteps in the praise
and service of Him whom they faithfully served unto death shall
for ever abide in our land, nourishing our souls with the ardor
of prayer, fortifying our hearts with the chrism of courage, call-
ing down upon the devout and pure of heart the benediction of
Heaven.

FRUITS OF THEIR GLORIOUS MARTYRDOM.

Where once the saintly Jesuit fathers moved among their
Indian converts and catechumens, consoling them in their afflic-
tions, absolving them in their sins, ministering to their every
spiritual and bodily want, there stand to-day temples in which

worship a devout and faith-
ful people, and upon whose
altars are daily offered up
the same great, unchanging
and Eternal Sacrifice by
whose power is wrought
the glorious deeds of hero,
confessor, and martyr.

Not far from where stood
the mother-house of the

Hu-
and
St.
the
the

Jesuit missions to the
rons with its chapel
hospital, known as
Mary's on the Wye,
saintly memory of
Jesuit martyrs is being
honored and perpetuated
to-day in a beautiful and
noble temple which, when
completed, will be known as
the Memorial Church of St.
Joseph and St. Anne, Pene-
tanguishene. The pastor
of the mission is Rev.
Thomas F. Laboureau, who,
like many others of his noble countrymen, left his home in
sunny Burgundy nearly forty years ago, in company with the
first Bishop of Toronto, Monsignor Charbonnel, to share in the
hardships incidental to early mission-life in Canada.

FATHER LABOUREAU, P.P. AT PENETANGUISHENE.

1896.] IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. 77

The parish of the Penetanguishene is one of the oldest and
most interesting historically among the early Catholic missions
of Ontario. The town was at its inception made a naval and
military British post consequent on the transference there of
the British garrison from Drummond Island in Lake Huron in
1827, in conformity with certain negotiations which followed
the treaty of Ghent, fixing the boundary between Canada and
the United States so that Drummond Island was included in
the territory of the latter. The Indians of Drummond Island,
who had lived under the protection of Great Britain, were first
chiefly settled at Waubashene, Coldwater, Orillia, and Beau-
soleil Island. A few years later they were placed on the new
reserve on Manitoulin Island.

At the time the garrison was transferred from Drummond
Island to Penetanguishene, there were living on the Penetan-
guishene Bay two traders, George Gondon and Antoine Cor-
biere, and a few voyageurs, deserters from the service of the
Compagnie de Lachine or North-west Company. Of these
voyageurs the chief were Thomas Leduc and Joseph Messies —
the latter of whom is still living, at the age of ninety.

In those days there was no resident missionary priest to
attend to the spiritual wants of either the people of Drummond
Island or Penetanguishene. Missionaries paid occasional visits
to both places, among whom may be mentioned Father Cre-
vier, of Sandwich, and Fathers Badin and Ballard. In Febru-
ary, 1832, Bishop McDonell of Kingston, accompanied by
Father Crevier, paid a pastoral visit to Penetanguishene and
remained a few days. In the interval between the visit of
Bishop McDonell and the arrival in the fall of 1833 of Father
Dempsey, a Father Cullen came to give a few days' retreat to
the people. Father Dempsey, who came from Glengarry, that
good old Catholic county, the venerable nucleus and nursery
of Catholic faith in Ontario, was therefore the first resident
missionary priest of the parish of Penetanguishene. Father
Dempsey, however, had charge of the parish but a few months,
when he was stricken with illness from which he died, at the
home of Mr. Bergin, some seven miles north of Barrie.

It can be seen, therefore, that on Drummond Island and
at Penetanguishene there had been no resident priest for
years. How, you will ask, was the faith preserved ? Largely
through the labors of two or three ardent and exemplary
Catholic laymen, chief among whom was D. Revol, a scholarly
and cultured Frenchman, who labored with a zeal and devo-

IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. [April,

tion worthy of a true and fervent Catholic. It was in a great
measure through his generosity and labors that the first church, a
small log building, was erected in Penetanguishene, which did duty
until 1860, when it was replaced by the frame church that lately
has given way to the Memorial Church, which is as yet unfinished.
Mr. Revol left Penetanguishene for Montreal, and on his
way down called upon Bishop Gaulin, coadjutor to Bishop

McDonell of Kingston, to represent to
his lordship the needs of the Catholic
people of Penetanguishene. It was like-
ly due to his pressing solicitations that
Bishop McDonell sent Father Dempsey
to Penetanguishene, in 1833.

In September, 1835, Bishop Gaulin
visited Penetanguishene, and from his
pastoral visit dates the first entry in
the written records of the parish. The
first entry in the book is the baptism
of Edward Rousseau, son of J. Rous-
seau and Julie Lamorandieu, and is
written in the French language. Bishop
Gaulin announced to the congregation,
amid great rejoicing, that a young priest
recently ordained would be sent to them
in a few weeks. On the 27th of Octo-
ber, 1835, the young priest announced
by Bishop Gaulin, who was none other
than Father Jean Baptiste Proulx, ar-
rived in Penetanguishene.

The newly-appointed parish priest
took a deep interest in the Indians and
at times extended his spiritual labors
among them as far as Sault Ste. Marie.
In 1837, desiring to devote himself ex-
clusively to the Indians, he obtained a
priest to reside in Penetanguishene — Fa-
ther Charest, from the district of Three
Rivers, Quebec. Father Proulx paid flying visits to Penetan-
guishene during the following year, as may be seen by the
records, and after that his name does not appear in the entries
till 1845. He had succeeded in gathering a large number of the
Indians who were living around Gloucester Bay and locating
them in the Great Manitoulin Island, where they obtained a

MGR. PROULX.

1896.] IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. 79

good reserve. After a few years, about 1845, in his desire to
secure for the Indians the benefit of a less precarious attend-
ance than could be given by the secular clergy, Father Proulx
obtained the services of a religious order — the Jesuits — to take
them in charge.

This good and zealous priest was later on given the care of
a parish at O'Shawa, and then was called to Toronto, where
his tall and noble form could be seen moving along the streets
with light and graceful step, and where he was admired by all
who had occasion to meet him for his courteous manner and
gentle disposition. The writer of this sketch well remembers
that when a student at St. Michael's College, Father Proulx
used to visit that institution and, mingling among the boys in
the playground, entertain them with the Indian war-whoop.
Shortly before his death this venerable priest was created a
Domestic Prelate of His Holiness, Pope Leo XIII., with the
title of monsignor, an honor well merited by virtue of nearly
fifty years of zeal, self-sacrifice, and devotion as priest and
missionary of Northern Canada. Monsignor Proulx, together
with the late Monsignor Rooney, and the saintly Bishop Jamot,
will be for ever remembered as of that sturdy band of priests
with soul of fire and frame of iron, who belong to the heroic
days of missionary life in Canada.

Father Charest, who succeeded Father Proulx at Penetan-
guishene', remained there from 1837 to 1854. His labors were
arduous. It was the time of immigration when new settlers
were passing through the front and seeking homes in the back-
woods. The district under his charge was immense. It ex-
tended from Penetanguishene to the Narrows, and from Barrie to
Owen Sound. In following the parish records you can see that
one day Father Charest is in Penetanguishene, the next in Cold-
water, the next at the Narrows. Another week he would be at
Medonte, Flos, and come back to Penetanguishene to go to
Barrie, Nottawasaga, Collingwood, and Owen Sound. It was
only in 1854 that the first priest, Father Jamot, afterwards Bishop
of Peterboro', was stationed in Barrie.

During the years of Father Charest's administration of the
parish there was a large advent of French Canadians to Pene-
tanguishene and the township of Tiny, making what is called
the French Settlement. Many of these early French Canadian
settlers engaged in lumbering, and when the timber was all
exhausted not a few of them left for Minnesota, Dakota, and
the Canadian North-west.

8o IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS. [April,

Father Charest was followed, in 1854, by Father Claude
Terner, a priest from France, and Father Libaudy, another
French priest. Then came Father John Kennedy, whose career
was cut short by a melancholy accident. He was drowned in
Penetanguishene Bay in a generous attempt to save one of the
boys in his charge who had fallen overboard.

Poor Father Kennedy was succeeded in 1873 by the pres-
ent incumbent of the parish of Penetanguishene, Father
Laboureau, who is possessed of that zeal, piety, and generosity
of heart which mark in so eminent a degree the life-work and
character of that noble band of pioneer priests who, in the
morning of their manhood, forsook home and country in the
Old World to contribute to the spiritual shapings of parish and
diocese in the vast but spiritually untilled fields of Canada and
the North-west.

Father Laboureau is, in a measure, heir and representative
of the glorious past of historic Penetanguishene — successor to
the Jesuit heroes and martyrs whose deeds illumine the pages
of our country's history and whose blood consecrates the soil
of the ancient land of Huronia.

A NATIONAL MEMORIAL TO THE JESUIT MARTYRS.

Nor has Father Laboureau been unmindful of the memory
of that great and heroic band of missionaries who first planted
the seed of faith upon the shores of the Georgian Bay and
nurtured it with the blood of martyrs.

A little more than ten years ago the successor to these
great and goodly men conceived the idea of erecting on the
shores of the Georgian Bay, at Penetanguishene, a memorial
church as a fitting monument to those holy and noble men,
De Br6beuf, Lalemant, and their companions, the early mission-
aries to that part of Canada, to recall and perpetuate their
memory and the history of the mission.

The proposition met at once with general acceptance, and it
was determined, since the memory and glory of those men are
the property of the nation, to make the erection of the
memorial church a national undertaking and appeal to the
people of Canada at large for contributions.

To better facilitate Father Laboureau in his work, he was
furnished with letters of recommendation from his Grace the
Most Reverend Dr. Lynch, Archbishop of Toronto, while the
mayor and council of Penetanguishene placed in his hands a
memorial to his honor the lieutenant-governor of Ontario, in

1896.] IN THE LAND OF THE JESUIT MARTYRS.

which they showed the desire evinced on many sides to have a
monument erected to the men who have been the first national
glory of this country, and asked him to kindly endorse the
undertaking that it might be shown that it had the approval
and sympathy of the lieutenant-governor of the province
especially concerned in it.

The site chosen for this beautiful monumental temple is
a spot in a commanding position overlooking the picturesque
bay, and the whole scene of the Huron mission.

On the 5th of September, 1886, his Grace the late Arch-
bishop Lynch of Toronto, assisted by the late Monsignor

DEAN HARRIS, AUTHOR OF "THE JESUIT MISSIONS TO THE HURONS."

O'Bryen, blessed and laid the corner-stone of the Memorial
Church, in the presence of a large number of the clergy, his
Honor John Beverley Robinson, then Lieutenant-Governor of
Ontario, and many representative men from Toronto and various
adjacent towns. Very Rev. Dean Harris, author of The History
VOL. LXIII.— 6

82 5T-. JOSEPH. [April,

of the Early Missions in Western Canada, preached on the oc-
casion.

In the summer of 1888 Father Laboureau visited France and
England in the interest of his projected church, and received
much kindly aid from such distinguished personages as the
Marquis of Lome, former Governor-General of Canada, and the
Princess Louise, the late Cardinal Manning, Sir Charles Tupper,
the Archbishop of Rouen, and the bishops of Normandy, the
country of Father de Brebeuf, Honorable L. P. Morton, then
United States Ambassador to France, members of the French
Academy, senators, and many other eminent persons.

The style of architecture adopted in the building of the
Memorial Church is late Romanesque, the material being " rock-
faced " granite stone split, trimmed with white and red stone.
The main body of the church is one hundred and twenty-five
feet in length by fifty feet in breadth, the fa£ade being wider
— about ninety feet — in order to support the towers projecting
out from the body of the church. The two transepts on the
sides of the church will be used as chapels, and are intended to
contain the commemorative monuments. \

ST. JOSEPH.

BY WILLIAM D. KELLY.

|HEN, with reluctant feet, the winter, leads

Northward once more his ice-mailed followers,.
And on the southern slopes, as he recedes,

Appear spring's green-appareled harbingers ;
When measurably longer wax the days,

And higher mounts the sun the azure arch,
Returns the time thy children chant thy praise, •
Dear Saint of March !

And as thy feast approaches, lo ! the streams,
So long held captive in the ice king's thrall,

Shake off their shackles, and, aroused from dreams,
The flowers arise responsive to their call ;

The truant birds return to bush and tree,

A brighter green pervades the pine and larch,

And thine own lilies wake to welcome thee,
Dear Saint of March !

1896.] FORSWORN. 83

FORSWORN.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

'ND so this is the famous Blarney Castle ! Pshaw !
'Tis only a fraud — I mean as a ruin."

Such was the disgusted exclamation of Thorpley
Vane, an English don from Oxford, to the local
guide and cicerone, Jemmy Punch, as the two
stood on the well-known little bridge with the circular opening
and looked at the gray and grim old keep through the aper-
ture.

" That's it, sir ; you see it all there, sure enough," returned
the guide a little apologetically. "'Tis bigger nor you'd imag-
ine, though, sir ; wait till you get nearer to it. Them trees
that shut it in on all sides, they hide the half of it."

"I can see the whole of an ugly square tower; how then
can the half be hidden ? "

" There's the lodge-keeper's and the guide's quarters, sir, in
undher the trees. Two quarters make a half, you know, sir."

The gentleman from England fixed his monocle firmly in
his eye, and turning around looked at the guide steadfastly for
a few seconds. Jemmy Punch bore the scrutiny with the calm
insouciance of unsuspecting innocence.

" Your system of applied mathematics, my friend," at length
said Mr. Vane, " appears a little strange to me, but I rather
admire its ingenuity. Did you ever hear of the differential
calculus? "

" Calculus, sir ! An' what might be the manin' of that ? "

" Calculus means a stone. The ancients used to count by
stones, you ought to understand."

" Used they, sir ? Well, I suppose they knew no betther.
No, I never before h'ard of the differential calculus. The only
' calculus ' I know that's worth talkin' about is that big one
beyant there in the castle — the Blarney Shtone, as we're proud
to call it. I make a few ha'pence by it now an' agin."

"The Blarney Stone — ah, yes, I've often heard about it.
You say you derive some revenue from it ; how does that
arise ? "

" You see, sir, that ould shtone has a great name for givin'
people the gift of the gab. Some are so bould as to want to

84 FORSWORN. [April,

kiss it, an' I'm the only man about here that they care to
thrust thimselves with whin they go to thry it."

" Ah, yes ; I've heard about it. . One has to be lowered from
the battlements, I believe, in order to accomplish the feat."

" It's the feet that have to be held, sir, while the tongue
is gettin' the accomplishment," answered Jemmy, with that
fresh pastoral look again in his ruddy, guileless face.

" Bless me, how dense ! " muttered Mr. Vane, sotto voce.
" Inversion is the rule everywhere in this country, I believe,"
he added audibly.

" That's it, sir — that's the scientific name I've h'ard, for the
way you kiss the Blarney Shtone. Would you wish to thry it,
sir?"

" I do not think I need any addition to my stock of elo-
quence, at least for present uses; I prefer to note and observe
things just now," replied the visitor. " The pleasure of being
able to boast of the achievement would hardly compensate for
the risk, in my opinion."

A peal of mocking laughter from below caused the speaker
to thrust his head through the aperture in search of the imper-
tinent interruption. The laugh was as gay as the song of a
linnet, and yet it was exasperating.

" I believe that girl is laughing at me," he said, pulling in
his head very suddenly. " Very ill-bred, but decidedly pretty."

" People may laugh in the fields, I suppose, without any
offence. There's more ill-breedin' shown in passin' disparagin'
remarks on people you don't know, I'm thinkin'."

A decided change had come over the face and manner of
Jemmy Punch as he made this reply. There was anger in the
heretofore innocent blue eye, and minatory strength in the
musical brogue.

The stranger perceived that he had blundered somehow, and
he hastened to retrieve the faux pas,

" I beg your pardon," he said ; " I was not aware it was
any friend of yours, and I thought it was at myself not you
she was laughing. Good-day."

He moved off in the direction of the village of Blarney, and
the guide, planting his back against the coping of the little
bridge, folded his arms and looked after him with a doubtful
expression. Whether to be angry or whether to be hilarious
depended on a whim of the moment from below.

" O Jemmy ! come here ; make haste ; here's a grand eel as
long as your arm, but I'm not able to hould him." It was the

1896.] FORSWORN. 85

same rich piccolo voice whose tones had so irritated the
stranger which called.

Down the bank, three yards at each bound, plunged Jemmy
Punch, like Theseus at the cry of Andromeda. The sea-mon-
ster would have fared as badly as the unlucky eel had it been
there when Moya Connor cried for help on Jemmy Punch.

What a specimen of young manhood he was ! A great
broad-shouldered, fleet-limbed fellow, such as the old Fenii were
composed of. Men who could hurl the massive stone through
the air with the force of a catapult, and tread so lightly as
not to break a twig. A handsome giant too, for all his rough
dress ; and a merry one, as we have seen.

The girl who was playing the angler was not much more
than a child in years, yet she was in very truth as a full-blown
rose. That delicate texture of early girlhood which seems so
like the waxen beauty of the mellowing peach was fresh upon
her cheek, although her small and shapely hand was decidedly
brown and hard-looking, betokening wholesome outdoor toil.
On her head was neither hat nor bonnet, but the glossy black
hair which coiled about her neck was looped up with a morsel
of red ribbon, in a way that suggested the latent coquettish-
ness of even work-a-day rusticity.

"An' how did you manage to get away fishin' to-day,
Moya?" queried the guide, as he extricated the now defunct
eel from the hook and proceeded to rearrange the very primi-
tive tackling upon the stout sally-rod which served the girl for
her piscatorial pastime. " Sure I thought ye were all to be
busy at the haymakin' to-day."

" We had to put it off till to-morrow. Dad had to go to
Cork to get some ropes, for he found he was short when he
went to look for 'em in the barn. So Owney here asked me
to come fishin' along with him. Maybe 'tis lucky I did, for
that eel might have dragged the poor child into the river."

Owney looked at his sister with a reproachful glance. A
boy of eight years old to be thought liable to be overcome by
a two-pound eel ! It looked like an aspersion on his character.

" Tell the truth, Moya ! " he retorted. " Didn't you say to
meself when you saw me takin' down the line that you saw
Terence Foley comin' over to the house an' that you'd get
away, for you couldn't bear the sight of him ? "

A smile leaped up into the blue eyes of Jemmy Punch,
which had been fastened keenly upon the youngster's face as
he told his artless tale.

86 FORSWORN. [April,

" More power to you, Owney, my bouchal ! " he cried, pat-
ting the little fellow on the back with his great hand. " Always
tell the truth — to me — but, mind, don't tell this to Terry Foley
—unless you're axed."

"I don't want to tell anything to Terry Foley; he's an
ould naygur that gets all the beggars' curses," replied the boy
impetuously ; and then he added, very meditatively, " I wonder
what he do be comin' over to our house so often for ? No-
body there talks to him much, but dad."

" Maybe he's comin' to smuggle you off to the fairies,
Owney, an' put an ould sheefrah * in your place," suggested
Jemmy Punch. "Keep an eye on him, an' if he ever asks you
to go anywhere along with him, set Nettle at him."

"Sorra a step I'll ever go with him," answered the urchin.
" But I'd be afraid to set Nettle at him, for dad likes to have
him comin' over, I know."

Having exhausted all the game in this part of the stream
in the capture of the eel, the trio moved off to a bend lower
down to see what further luck awaited the fishers.

Meantime the gentleman from Oxford pursued his journey
toward the village. He was a stoutly-built, well-fed, fresh-com-
plexioned man of about thirty years. His face bore that look
of conscious superiority which a long heritage of good living
and habits of command impart to certain types of what a dis-
tinguished authority styles an imperial race. His attire was
that of the summer tourist, remarkable for something like au-
dacity in pattern and absence of style in cut. In his right
hand he bore a substantial walking-cane with a showy knob of
silver ; in his left he carried a bulgy grip-sack.

He looked like a brilliant apparition as he rounded the turn
of the road beyond the bridge where the heavy border of trees
along the sides of a demesne wall plunges the way into a dense
shadow. So he thought he must appear to that gloomy-looking
figure in black, with the military-looking cap and portentous
baton depending from shining leathern belt, which he saw com-
ing leisurely toward him as he hastened along in the pleasant
sunlight.

He did not calculate on producing any more than an im-
pression ; he was not prepared for such a result as an imperious
challenge :

" Stand, in the Queen's name ! Who are you ? What are
you doing here? What have you got in that sack?"

* A fairy changeling.

1896.] FORSWORN. 87

Almost letting fall the sack in question along with the re-
laxed lower jaw, • Mr. Vane drew up sharply and stood stock-
still for a moment, speechless from amazement.

"Th — there must be some mistake — some confusion of per-
sons," he stammered at length. " I'm not the person you take
me for, Mr. Officer. I'm a tourist — an English gentleman — and
this I take to be the Queen's highway."

" Come, come — none of your nonsense. I believe I know my
duty. Answer my questions at once, or come along with me
to the station-house."

Something metallic clinked as he spoke, lending the sug-
gestion of a Castanet accompaniment to his harsh syllables.

" Surely it is not possible that you think of putting hand-
cuffs on me ! This proceeding is entirely unwarranted. I think
I am entitled to an explanation —

" Will you give me your name and open the sack, before I
make you my prisoner? Say yes or no at once ; I've no time
for humbuggin'."

" There, there's the sack and here's the key — and there's my
card. But I must say I thought the public roads in Ireland
were free to the English people."

"I'm acting according to law — and the law is made in Eng-
land," returned the policeman sternly, as he ransacked the
"grip" in search of treasonable documents, dynamite, and war
materiel. " That'll do, now ; you may pass on."

" Oh, thank you ! But suppose I am stopped again by an-
other officer, am I to be subjected to a similar examination?"

" You're liable to it as long as you go about in this sus-
picious way. I'd strongly advise you to get to your hotel as
soon as you can and put on something that's not so noticeable
—especially while you're carrying a hand-bag."

" I've been the victim of a gross outrage," said Mr. Thorpley
Vane indignantly to his friend, Professor Zug, from Dettingen,
with whom he had come over to spend a holiday at St. Anne's
sanitarium — " a very great indignity, my dear professor. I have
actually been stopped on the Queen's highway by a policeman,
and searched."

" So too have I, mine vriend," replied the professor. " The
police here are no better than they are in Berlin. Police are
all slaves of monarchs ; and all monarchs are despots ; so are
all governments. I would sweep them all away. I would put
in their place the grand Socialism."

Mr. Thorpley Vane was a member of the undergraduates'

88 FORSWORN. [April,

philosophical society at Oxford. Often the debates at the so-
ciety's meetings dealt with socialism, and even more violent
revolutionary theses, with all the freedom of omniscient aca-
demic discussion. He was consequently quite an adept in
debate.

Here was new ground for him. The opportunity of study-
ing an agrarian system on its own ground, and the methods of
a paternal government under which that system grew, at once
struck him as an advantage not to be despised.

" The ethnic and anthropological conditions are most favor-
able," he said to Professor Zug. " In the action of great econ-
omic and political tests upon a crude and primitive society such
as we find it here, we shall be enabled to watch the contact of
the Present with the Past — the living with the dead, so to
speak."

" That vill be vary interesting," replied the professor, with
enthusiasm.

Not far from St. Anne's, on the road toward Macroom,.
stood the cottage wherein Moya Connor and her parents dwelt.
Attached to the cottage was a farm — a snug one of a couple
of hundred acres. In all the barony there was not so trim a
cottage or a better kept farm than Bat Connor's. Twice he got
the prize at the annual shows of the agricultural society for
neatness and good farming.

Bat Connor was no less respected than he was envied by his
neighbors. He was a superior man, not in point of education,
but in self-respect. He was a rigid total abstainer, and a most
exemplary Catholic.

A fine type of the stalwart Irishman, physically, was Bat
Connor. He had served a few years in the army, and this had
set up his physique. But it had also gained him a bullet in
the cranium, which, being lodged in one of the most inaccessi-
ble bony processes, never could be extracted. But as long as
he refrained from nervous excitement he suffered no inconven-
ience nor ran any risk from the imbedded souvenir of battle.
Neither did it affect his countenance or his good spirits. His
large, pleasant features ever wore a smile of content, and he
was always ready with some racy joke or reminiscence of the
army whenever the cue was gaiety.

But it was known that in addition to the bullet he had had
a sun-stroke while serving in India. Hence there were three
good reasons why Bat Connor should rigidly adhere to the
temperance vow he had made away back in the forties, when

1896.] FORSWORN. 89

the great Father Mathew was rousing the country by his apos-
tolic labors.

The money with which Bat Connor had been enabled to
purchase the good will of the farm from its former tenant, Neal
Downey, on his emigration to the United States, had been
made at the Australian gold-fields, in the office of the govern-
mental inspector. The employes there were all military men of
the retired list, and of good character.

Bat Connor had been twice married. Moya so much resem-
bled her dead Irish mother that she was inexpressibly dear to
him. And indeed his second wife, who was a Eurasian, half
English, half Rajput, did not seem to be lacking in love for
her somewhat wilful and roguish step-daughter. Moya's propen-
sity for fun sometimes, however, went far enough to cause
friction. Those who are not of a naturally gay or humorous
temperament rarely appreciate to the full the value of this at-
tribute in others.

She was a woman of moods, difficult to understand. Usually
reticent, retiring, and of quiet ways, she at times was seized
with fits of unaccountable depression, the reaction from which
usually led to the extreme of a strange and irrepressible gaiety.
Sometimes these little idiosyncrasies produced a passing cloud
in the domestic realm for Bat Connor, but his own good spirits
and cheerful ways soon made wife and daughter forget their
little points of friction and turn with renewed zest to the rou-
tine of daily life in the house and about the farm.

Jemmy Punch was a great favorite with Bat Connor, and
with Moya — well, it is said in Ireland that girls " take after "
their fathers in many peculiarities. Bat Connor had a fund of
anecdotes of the outside world, which the guide had never seen.
But the guide had a wonderfully receptive memory, and a power
of imagination capable of transforming a very bald fact into a
very curly-headed sprite of. romance ; and those wonderful tales
with which he often imposed upon the ingenuous visitors to the
castle of MacCarthy More were for the most part spun out of
his own fancy, on the mere strength of a suggestion found in
Bat Connor's experiences.

With Mrs. Connor Jemmy Punch was not so great a favor-
ite as with the others of the family and household. There was
something too subtle in his humor for her intelligence. The
vagueness of the Oriental mind predominated too much in her
being to enable her to sympathize with the profound intricacies
of Celtic wit. She had at first believed too implicitly the mar-

90 FORSWORN. [April,

vellous tales which he wove from the loom of his fancy, but, find-
ing herself imposed upon, even though harmlessly, she enter-
tained a feeling of distrust henceforward, and her manner to-
ward the guide grew reserved and taciturn.

This circumstance did not prey much on Jemmy Punch's
mind ; as long as he was welcomed by the master of the house
and by Moya he felt his ground secure. Other young men —
farmers and cattle dealers — dropped in there frequently too, on
business or on pleasure, and he was shrewd enough to perceive
that he himself appeared to get a warmer welcome than any
of them.

To one member of the household at least Jemmy Punch
appeared to be a being somewhat akin to a demigod'. The boy
Owen, Moya's step-brother, seemed to live an enchanted life
listening to Jemmy's wonderful stories. He was a creature of
romance, and tales of the marvellous were his favorite men-
tal food. Jemmy was his confidant in everything — his oracle as
well as his mind's depository.

All the woods and fields and groves in and around Blarney
Jemmy had peopled with an invisible host of spirits or imma-
terial beings, all of which were familiar to Owney. He knew
the fairies of " the fort " who came out to dance inside the
magic ring there, by moonlight, and he knew the banshee who
wailed nightly on the topmost window in the tower of the
castle, near the cresset — the banshee of the MacCarthy Mores.
He knew the phooka who flew over the lakes and the glens at
night, and he knew the leprechauns who plied the shoemaking
trade under the harebells and the burdocks. He wondered at
Moya laughing at these things when he told her about them —
although she still kept asking him what else did Jemmy Punch
tell him.

Although the guide was a born story-teller, overflowing with
words when words were needed, his flow of speech was always
kept well in control. He did not think it necessary to talk
about everything he knew. Sundry things were happening
there, of which he was well aware, and over which he was dis-
creetly silent.

Of the nature of these things the abnormal activity of the
police, as briefly indicated in the stoppage of Mr. Vane, may
give some idea. Secret drilling was going on all over the
country ; revolutionary agents were going around ; arms were
being smuggled in from abroad. Under the quiet, smiling face
of the country smouldered the fires of a political volcano.

1896.] FORSWORN. 91

It would not suit Jemmy Punch's role to be a very promi-
nent actor in this drama, but he knew all about it, and all
those in the locality who were engaged in it. He was im-
plicitly trusted by them all.

When Mr. Thorpley Vane proposed to visit Ireland, only a
vague and very inadequate idea of what was below the surface
prevailed in England. It was the policy of the Irish authori-
ties to keep the outside world in ignorance of what they knew
through their spies, so as to make a successful coup when the
proper time came.

At Oxford Mr. Vane was a radical doctrinaire. His views
on social economy were very advanced. He was, in fact, a re-
volutionist— in an academic sense. As for the religious question,
he did not regard it as worthy of consideration. Religion was
made up of superstition and cunning — the mass who were duped
and the few who cozened them.

To enlighten the Irish people on those important matters
he believed it to be his duty, after the experience he had had
of the methods of government in the isle. A public lecture
was the means he decided on for doing so. A building which
had been used as a school-house was hired for the purpose, and
the neighborhood was placarded with the important notification.

This step was a godsend to the "men of action." Sundry
influential men whom they wished to gain over to their side
were expected to attend this lecture. Here was an opportunity
of gaining their sympathies not likely to occur again.

When the night for the lecture arrived the little building
was packed, and the solitary policeman on duty was hustled out
of the room. The lecturer had not proceeded very far with his
socialistic views when a howl of rage arose from the audi-
ence, a rush was made for the platform, and he and Professor
Zug, who acted as chairman, were swept away and compelled
to retreat by the side door. Mr. Vane's wrath got the better of
his discretion, and he was heard to mutter threats of vengeance
on the authors of this outrage as he was ejected.

The chaos subsided soon after the little storm and a good
many of the more timid of the audience had left. But while they
were dropping out an orator of the advanced party had taken
the platform and said some things that caused many to keep
their seats. He was a fluent speaker and an earnest one. In
burning words he pointed out the hopelessness of any redress
of the country's wrongs from any appeal to the conscience of
England, and the duty of wresting justice from her fears. His

92 FOKSWORN. [Aprilr

enthusiasm was irresistible. Men sprang to their feet and
cheered him to the echo again and again.

But when the audience at length rose to depart they beheld
outside a double row of policemen. Every man was stopped
and scrutinized, and a score were detained and marched off as
prisoners in handcuffs.

Terror was not the immediate effect of this coup de main;
exasperation all the more intense from being pent up pervaded
the whole country-side. Curses, not loud but deep, were invoked
on the head of the authors of the surprise, chief among whom,
it was generally believed, was Mr. Thorpley Vane.

So threatening were the looks and so fierce the mutterings
which his appearance in public elicited that he thought it best
to shorten his visit to the sanitarium. Both he and Professor
Zug left the place hurriedly and unnoticed.

Of the men captured by the police half a dozen were de-
tained for months under the Habeas Corpus Suspension Act.
One of them died in prison ; the remainder, after being sub-
jected to rigorous hardships, were liberated for want of evidence
to bring them to trial.

But Thorpley Vane could not tear himself away altogether
from the place. The vision of Moya Connor haunted him.
Even though she had laughed at him, the one glimpse he had
had of her witching face had fixed it in his mind indelibly. It
drew him as a magnet back to the place the next summer.

This time he went quietly to the sanitarium. He wore no
remarkable garments, and he had allowed his beard to grow, so
that few would recognize him.

His purpose was to see Moya Connor, if it were possible.
He did see her, and in a totally unexpected way, as will appear.

Soon after his arrival the news spread through the village
and all around that Moya Connor was missing from her home !
Consternation paralyzed the little community. Never before
had such a thing been known. And Moya was so idolized by
all ! A wild fear as to her fate drove many of the people al-
most frantic.

Nearly beside himself with torturing grief, Jemmy Punch
stood at evening on the ramparts of Blarney Castle. His tear-
dimmed, sunken eyes roamed restlessly over the broad expanse
of country lighted up by the setting sun. They swept every
winding thread of white road in the vain hope of discovering
some suggestion of the form of Moya in the tiny specks mov-
ing over them which his keen eyes discerned as human figures

1896.] FORSWORN. 93

A party of tourists had been going over the ruin, but Jemmy
Punch's services were not, as usual, in requisition. He had in
fact refused. Father Clayton, the parish priest, who came with
the party, had asked him to take them in hand, but Jemmy
only replied with a mournful head-shake. Father Clayton un-
derstood only too well the cause of his inertia, and he sympa-
thized with him keenly. He approached him, as the others
were descending the winding stair, and spoke to him cheering-
ly, but saying nothing of the subject which lay nearest both
their hearts, only endeavoring to interest him in talk about a
project for a new flax factory to be set up in the village.

Only a very languid interest — that of mere politeness — did
the guide exhibit. Still Father Clayton persevered in the effort
to raise his spirits and his curiosity.

" By the by, Jemmy," he said, " did you notice the man
from Oxford among the recent arrivals at the sanitarium — the
gentleman who made such an impression here with his lec-
ture ? "

" The black-hearted scoundrel ! No, I didn't notice him,
your riverence. And so he's here again ? "

" Yes, but he has grown a beard, so that you would hardly
recognize him."

" His beard won't be much use to him if some of the men
he got put into jail lay their eyes on him. Florence Lynch's
blood is on his head — and he'll answer for it."

There was something in the tone in which the guide spoke
that alarmed Father Clayton. It was so unusual with him to
be wrathful.

" James," he said, approaching him and taking his arm with
affectionate solicitude, " you know how I love and esteem you
as a man and a good Catholic. I never heard such sentiments
from you before. You have shocked me. You are not your-
self. You are in a mood most favorable to the tempter. I
will pray for you — but that is not enough. Before I go from
here you must promise me solemnly — pledge yourself before
God — that you will do nothing to endanger this man's life.
As your priest I insist on it. Now, say you will not."

The guide was obdurate. His mood was indeed one to
arouse alarm. A full tide of passion was surging through his

I gigantic frame — swollen by the flood of pent-up grief at the
disappearance of the girl of his heart.
Father Clayton found him dogged and unamenable to argu-
ment for a long time, but at last his powerful pleadings bore

94 FORSWORN. [April,

fruit. Before he left the guide he had got him to give the
pledge he required — on the crucifix — that he would neither
directly nor indirectly be the cause of any violent proceeding
against Thorpley Vane.

A gay party came over from the sanitarium next day to go
over the ruin. Their jests and merriment as they climbed the
spiral stone stairs and peeped into vaulted chambers and ghost-
ly prison-pens seemed to make the old place frown severely.
Jemmy Punch was at his old station, on the top of the tower,
near the cresset turret, gloomily watching the merry party as
they bustled about from place to place prying into nooks and
crannies and exchanging irreverent comments.

Mr. Vane was of the party — the most prominent figure in it.
He did not affect to recognize the guide, nor the guide him.

The question of kissing the Blarney Stone came up, and as
usual evoked general mirth. Several of the ladies said banter-
ingly that none of the gentlemen would kiss the stone, through
fear of the operation.

The guide looked on grimly, his arms folded across his
broad chest, and his lips pressed hard one against the other.
He felt a touch at his elbow. Little Owney was standing beside
him with a look of horror on his face. "O Jemmy!" he said,
in a voice quivering with suppressed sobs, " how I wish you'd
come down to the house. I'm afraid father and mother are
goin' mad."

" Goin' mad! What d'ye mane, Owney? Sure, I don't
wonder at their goin' mad from grief. There's no one that
wouldn't go mad for Moya Connor."

" Oh, 'tisn't that at all, Jemmy — though maybe 'twas that
that set 'em on. 'Tis drink."

"Drink! Are you in your sinses, Owney? Drink! Sure,
both your father an' mother are teetotallers, an' never touch
drink."

" They aren't now, Jemmy," sobbed the boy. " Dad broke
the pledge when Moya went away, an' now he's like a wild
man-. An' mother is drinkin' too ; an' they're fightin' — drink.in'
an' fightin' day an' night — all about Moya. Oh, Jemmy, I'm so
much afraid. To hear 'em cursin' — 'tis awful. Only I think
I'd be wrong to lave 'em alone, I'd run away too, as Moya
did."

" Moya ! how do you know Moya went away ? Tell me,
Owney, for the love of heaven ! " cried the man fiercely, as he
clutched the little fellow by the arm.

1896.] FORSWORN. 95

" She — she went away with that man there," sobbed the
little fellow, pointing to the Englishman, " because father and
mother had a fight about her. Oh, Jemmy, they're drinkin'
whiskey night an' day now, an' I'm afeard — oh, I'm afeard
they'll kill aich other an' burn the house about us all."

Went away with that man there ? Moya Connor go away
with this coxcomb Englishman ! Jemmy couldn't believe it.
He hoarsely conjured Owney to tell him the truth — whether or
not he was laboring under some terrible mistake. But, no ; the
boy stuck to his story. What a sea of passions surged
through the man's breast ! What a mirror of that tempestuous
agony grew the darkening face !

" Guide, will you please assist me? I wish to be enabled to
kiss the Blarney Stone."

It was the voice of Thorpley Vane which startled Jemmy
Punch from his horrible ecstasy. The guide glared at him in a
dazed sort of way, and then made answer mechanically :

" Of coorse, sir ; take off your coat, if you plaze."

The others gathered around, jesting and full of glee — for
they did not dream they could get Vane to undertake the bit
of bravado.

They advanced to the battlements and in a few moments
the dispositions were made for the ordeal. The giant form of
the guide bent over the wall, the other clinging to his arms
with every sinew strained to its extremity of tension.

" Let go," shouted the guide when the proper hold had
been gained upon the Englishman's feet. " One, two, three —
now ! "

A voice called up from the depths beneath. Jemmy Punch
looked in the direction whence the sound came.

On an eminence near the castle stood Father Clayton, his
form well outlined against the sky. In his hand he held aloft
the crucifix upon which he had sworn the guide to do no
violence toward Vane.

" Remember ! " he called up from that depth, where he
trembled with the awful fear of a crime about to be enacted
in his very presence. The words sounded faintly but quite
distinctly :

"Remember, Christ is looking on. If you deny him now,
he will deny you hereafter. Beware!"

There was no name spoken, and any one who heard the
words save him for whose ear they were intended might not
understand their meaning. But Jemmy Punch understood.

96 FORSWORN. [April,

His face was very pale as he drew the Englishman back
through the aperture in the battlements.

" You may thank an angel," he said, with hard-set face, as
he planted him on his feet again inside, " that I did not drop
you to the rock below. But I'll hould you here till I've handed
you over to the law. Owney, run down to the barrack and tell
Sergeant Conlan to send up two of his men, for I've a prisoner
here that knows something about Moya Connor."

Shrieks and uproar from the picnic party greeted this start-
ling speech and action, but .Jemmy Punch held his prisoner
fast until the police came. Then Owney repeated his story, and
Mr. Thorpley Vane was borne off to the lock-up to answer the
accusation.

Meanwhile Jemmy Punch went over to the house of the
Connors, incredulous still of what Owney had told him. It was
only too true. Stretched on the bed in an inside room lay Bat
Connor, helplessly drunk. All around the place were the sick-
ening evidences of deep carousal. A hamper full of liquor-
bottles stood in a corner. Several half-empty bottles stood on
a table ; others, broken, lay about the floor.

On the sofa in the once neat, but now slovenly, little sitting-
room was seated Mrs. Connor. Her eyes were rolling wildly, a
stupid look was in her face ; she gibbered incoherently and
laughed horribly when she saw Jemmy Punch, and then at-
tempted to fling her arms around his neck in maudlin sorrow as
she muttered the name of Moya. In rising to do so she lost
her balance and fell in a bundle on the floor.

Shocked and grieved beyond all power of utterance, the
guide made such dispositions of the two unhappy inebriates as
he could, locked the door lest any of the neighbors should find
them in that shameful state, and went off in search of a doc-
tor. He would not call in the medical man who resided in the
village, so as to avoid scandal, but went off to Cork by the
train for a stranger.

As they approached the village of Blarney a dull crimson
glow became visible. A knot of people gathered on the steps
of the railway station were found speaking in awe-stricken tones.

" What's the matter, boys ? " queried Jemmy Punch anx-
iously.

"Bat Connor's house is burned down, an' he an' his wife
were suffocated before they could be got out, God have
mercy on their souls ! " answered the foremost, crossing him-
self solemnly.

1896.]

FORSWORN.

How the conflagration was kindled never transpired, but the
origin of the catastrophe was traced clearly enough. Jealousy
was its mainspring. A travelling pedlar having brought a pack
to the door one day, Bat Connor determined to buy his wife
and daughter each a handsome shawl from him. That which
he chose for and gave Moya was, in his wife's eyes, richer than
hers. Then the long pent-up demon burst his bonds, and- the
woman poured forth a passionate flood of invective on both
husband and step-daughter. Moya's pride was so stung by her
bitter words that she resolved to leave the house for good.
She had an aunt residing in Bristol, and to her she determined
to go. Not knowing how to get there, and seeing Thorpley
Vane, whom she knew to be English, she screwed up her cour-
age to ask him how she would proceed. He volunteered to ac-
company her to the office of the Bristol packet in Cork, and
promised to keep her secret. But when the tragedy had aroused
the attention of the country, he deemed himself justified in
telling what he knew.

In his grief and anger, knowing not what had become of
his child, Bat Connor turned to drink, and drank so much
at home that the evil example spread. His wife could not re-
sist the temptation when it was presented to her lips. It was
the only way she knew to drown the voice of conscience. The
most that could be hoped for by those who listened to the sad
story, and knew the blameless lives of the Connors down to that
point, was that the destruction which followed on their broken
vows was the result of accident. But in their home in the New
World neither Jemmy nor Moya nor Owney ever revert to the
story.

VOL. LXIII.— 7

THE NEW NAVE OF ST. SAVIOUR'S, SOUTHWARK.

JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH.

BY JESSE ALBERT LOCKE.

ANDERING about London in a leisurely way
the American visitor is sure to come, now and
again, upon some interesting spot unknown to
him before, a lucky find upon which to con-
gratulate himself. No small part of the pleasure
of such a discovery is the prospect of being able to exhibit to
other admiring eyes the beauties of one's treasure-trove. A
satisfaction of this sort awaits one who undertakes to tell to
American readers something of the story of St. Saviour's,
Southwark, a bit of antiquity in the very heart of London,
apparently unknown to the average tourist but quaint and rare
in its charm.

In these days of much travelling and of hastening to dis-
tant ends of the earth to escape the beaten tracks and the
places hackneyed by frequent description, many a spot of no
ordinary interest — worthy perhaps of being made a place of

1896.]

JOHN HARVARD" s PARISH CHURCH.

pilgrimage — may be passed by though it lie within a stone's
throw of the highway. Such a place is this fine old mediaeval
church (or cathedral, as it is soon to be) of St. Saviour's. If
you scan its visitors' book for the three summer months, when
tourists most abound, you will almost be able to count upon
your fingers the names of the Americans recorded there. Of
the 13,000 or 14,000 annual visitors to Stratford-on-Avon by
far the larger proportion, it is said, are Americans, and the
same might be true of St. Saviour's if our fellow-countrymen
only knew how well worthy of a visit it is. If the time in
London is limited and some sights must be omitted, why,
Madame Tussaud's can be pretty nearly duplicated in New
York, but there is nothing on this side of the water to take
the place of the architectural attractions or the literary and
historical associations which single out this church especially,
even in a land full of ancient temples.

London does not abound in really ancient churches. So
many were destroyed in the great fire that comparatively few
remain. But the finest mediaeval building in the whole metropo-
lis (next after Westminster Abbey) is St. Saviour's, Southwark.
It lies on the south or Surrey side of
the Thames — in the Borough, as that
suburb is called. But being just by the
end of London Bridge and within sight
of St. Paul's, it scarcely seems to be out-
side that most ancient part of London
still known as the city.

A ROMANTIC FOUNDATION.

For a thousand years and more legend
and history and literature have known
it. It was formerly called St. Mary
Overy, and an old prior describes its
origin thus : " East from the Bishop of
Winchester's House standeth a fair
church called St. Mary-over-the-Rie
(Overy), that is, over the water (rie
meaning river). This church, or some
other in place thereof, was (of old time
long before the Conquest) a House of
Sisters founded by a maiden named Mary, unto the which House
of Sisters she left the oversight and profits of a cross-ferry over
the Thames, there kept before that any bridge was builded."

A BIT OF AN OLD NORMAN
DOORWAY (A. D. 1106).

IOO

JOHN HARVARD' s PARISH CHURCH.

[April,

This Mistress Mary (according to an old account still pre-
served in the British Museum) had a somewhat romantic
history. Her miserly old father owned this ferry. One day
he thought to secure a little economy by feigning death.
Surely the whole household would fast for him at least one
day. But hearing, to his surprise, sounds of feasting and mer-
riment below, he rushed down the stairway in his winding
sheet. A guest, taking him for a veritable ghost, rushed upon
him with an oar and hurled upon his head a fatal blow. Mary

had a lover of whom her
father had not approved.
This lover, hearing of the
old miser's death, start-
ed at once for London,
but, falling from his
horse in his haste, was
killed.

In 862 A. D. St. Swithin
turned this House of Sis-
ters into a college of
priests, and hence this
church has been styled a
" Collegiate Church " ever
since. St. Swithin was
Bishop of Winchester,
and the church has had
many benefactors among
the successive bishops of
Winchester, whose house
was hard by. The pre-
sent building was begun
by Bishop Giffard, who,
with the aid of two Norman knights, built the nave in 1106.
The church is cruciform, and, like most ancient churches in Eng-
land, tells some of its own history in the different styles of
architecture of its various parts. The nave was originally Nor-
man, but was altered into Early English when Bishop de la
Roche built the Early English Choir and Lady Chapel in 1207.
The transepts (one of them erected at the cost of Cardinal
Beaufort) are in the Decorated style, while the upper part of
the great square tower belongs to that latest development of
Gothic, the Perpendicular. This tower holds a beautiful peal
of bells cast in 1424.

THE NORTH TRANSEPT.

1896.] JOHN HARVARD' s PARISH CHURCH.

101

VANDALISM OF THE REFORMATION.

St. Saviour's has, of course, shared the vicissitudes of the
religious revolutions in England. In 1540 it was seized by
Henry VIII., the Augustinian monks to whom it had belonged
were dispersed, their monastery was destroyed, and the church
became the property of the crown. The king leased it to the
parishioners at a rental of .£50 a year, and the name was changed
from St. Marie Overie to St. Saviour. In 1614 it was pur-
chased of the crown for ^800. It is destined in the near
future to be raised to the dignity of being the cathedral for a
new diocese of the Established Church south of the Thames.
The beautiful old nave fell into decay, and in 1838 its ruins
were pulled down and a shabby substitute in the incongruous
Renaissance style took its place. This new nave was an excel-
lent example of how not to do it in church-building, and for-

EARLY ENGLISH ARCADING (A. D. 1.207).

tunately it has in its turn been demolished, and is now re-
placed by another designed by Sir Arthur Blomfield, in perfect
harmony with the beautiful Early English of the Lady Chapel
and the Choir.

One enters St. Saviour's usually at one of the arms of the
cross which its ground-plan makes — i. e., at the door of the
south transept. The roar and rumble of London life die away

102

JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH.

[April,

with the closing of the door. One has stepped into the quiet
stillness of earlier centuries ; almost into a sense of physical
companionship with many of those whose names have long

been found on
the yellowing
page of print-
ed history, but
to whom these
very stones
were once as
familiar friends.
As the eye trav-
els from point
to point drink-
ing in the sim-
ple dignity,
the upreach-
ing graceful-
ness, the rich
beauty of col-
umn and arch,
of clerestory
and traceried
window, and
the restful per-
spective of long-
drawn aisle, a
link with home
suggests itself.
This was the
parish church
of the ancestors
of our own
Ralph Waldo
Emerson. And
when they

crossed the
ocean to a new
home in a new

world they must have carried with them affectionate memories
of this place — remote hereditary springs, perhaps, of that deep
beauty-sense in the soul of the great New England essayist.
An inscription on a tablet to the memory of William Emerson,

A GLIMPSE OF THE ALTAR SCREEN.

1896.]

JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH.

103

aged 92, tells us that " He lived and died an honest man."
His grandson, Thomas Emerson, gave a large sum of money in
1620, the income of which still benefits the parish poor.

THE FATHER OF ENGLISH POETRY.

Near the door in the south transept is a remarkable monu-
ment, the tomb of the first English poet, John Gower. It is a
fine example of Perpendicular Gothic. A full-length recumbent
figure of the poet, with meekly folded hands, rests under a
canopy of exquisite carv-
ed work, pinnacles and
tracery. His head is
cushioned on three large
volumes — his chief poeti-
cal works — viz., the Vox
Clamantis (written in
Latin), the Speculum Me-
ditantis — in French, but
now lost — and the Con-
fessio A mantis (Confession
of a Lover), in English.
The latter is well known.
His efforts to improve
the manners and morals
of his times by means of
these works won for him
the title of " Moral
Gower," given to him
by his pupil Chaucer.
Gower was not one of
those poets who live, un-
recognized and unknown,
picturesquely starving to

death in a garret. He
was a man of property
who contributed gener- THE ANGLE OF THE SouTH TRANSEPT AND THE CHOIR-
ously to the repair of St. Saviour's, and also built at his own
expense one of the chapels in the nave, that of St. John the
Baptist. He made a matrimonial alliance when he was over
seventy, and he spent his last years quietly in a house which
was almost under the shadow of the church to which he was
so much attached.

An American finds much to remind him of the immutability

104

JOHN HARVARD" s PARISH CHURCH.

[April,

of things in England. Sometimes it seems to be a simple
inertia which allows abuses or absurdly incongruous customs
and institutions to remain lest, apparently, the removal of any
part might cause the whole venerable structure of state and
society to come tumbling about the ears. When the Revoca-
tion of the Edict of Nantes, e. g., brought French Protestant

refugees into England, a
number of Huguenot
weavers settled in Can-
terbury. An endowment
was provided at that time
for a chaplain who was
to read the 'Church of
England service in
French, and to-day —
though there is not a
French-speaking Protest-
ant in Canterbury — a
chaplain still holds this
post and reads the French
service regularly in a
chapel in the crypt.

JOHN HARVARD'S BIRTH-
PLACE.

But an example of
wiser conservatism, for
which we of later genera-
tions cannot be too thank-
ful, is that scrupulous
care in the preservation
of old records which has
secured such complete-
ness to the parish regis-
ters. On the pages of
the parish register of St.
Saviour's is an entry for

TOMB OF GOWER, THE FIRST ENGLISH POET.

November 29, 1607, which may still be seen by the curious visi-
tor. It records the baptism of John Harvard, the founder of
Harvard University. He was born in one of a row of houses
which formerly stood just opposite the Lady Chapel on the
path to London Bridge.

The establishment of the Protestant religion in England was

1896.]

JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH.

105

uni-

sem-

sta-

not accomplished without deeds of violence, which are now
versally deplored. In the excessive zeal to remove every
blance of the Catholic faith, the altars were thrown down,
tues and other carved work
mutilated or utterly destroyed,
and scarcely an atom was left
in all England of that beauti-
ful painted glass which had
furnished even humble village
churches with treasures of art.
Further ravages were made
by subsequent neglect, and
the bad taste of later hands
which undertook repairs. But
now an intelligent and artistic
restoration is going on over
the whole country and the
ancient churches are being
given back their mediaeval
glory. This work has been
begun at St. Saviour's, and a
proposition has been made
and received with great favor
that the Alumni of Harvard
fill with stained glass the fine
great traceried windows of the
south transept — now destitute
of color — in memory of their
generous founder. This pro-
ject will probably be carried
out in the near future.

A BROTHER OF SHAKESPEARE.

The architectural beauty
of the Early English Choir,
with its vaulted roof, has hard-
ly begun to engage the atten-
tion before one's steps are
arrested by the name of
SHAKESPEARE carved upon a
stone in the floor. Under that stone lie the remains of Ed-
mond Shakespeare, brother of the greatest of dramatists. Ed-
mond was an actor, andjwas buried here in 1607. The poet

PROPOSED HARVARD WINDOW.

io6

JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH.

[April,

himself lived for years in this parish, and here he wrote many
of his plays. His theatre, the Globe, was near the church on a
site now occupied by a large brewery. Not long after Edmond
was buried in St. Saviour's William Shakespeare returned to his
native village of Stratford, where he spent the few remaining
years of his life.

John Fletcher (1625) and Philip Massinger (1639), the drama-

TOMB OF ALDERMAN HUMBLE.

tists, are both buried here. So also is Lawrence Fletcher, who
was a joint lessee of the Globe Theatre with William Shake-
speare. At the end of the Choir is a magnificent stone altar
screen erected by Bishop Fox in 1620. All the statues were
removed from its canopied niches and destroyed at the time of

1896.]

JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH.

107

the Reformation, but they are to be replaced in the course of
the present restoration of the church.

One of the fruits of our national enterprise and inventive
genius is the great patent medicine business — a business which
has assumed enormous proportions in these days. We are ac-
customed to look upon its devices and advertising schemes as
quite modern inventions. Many of them are so clever as to
seem almost strokes of genius. But let the modern advertiser
of his pill or nostrum be
not too much puffed up.
Let him visit St. Sav-
iour's and find there the
grave of his prototype,
Lockyer — quite a worthy
patron saint for the trade.
Indeed he surpassed most
of his modern brethren ;
for, besides anticipating
their novel methods of
advertising, he combined
with the sale of his wares
the open-air preaching of
religion. Thus he offered
good to both soul and
body ; the one free, the
other for a modest com-
pensation. Lockyer has
a monument in the north
transept. He is repre-
sented by a recumbent figure in white marble, with a flowing
wig and a most sentimental expression of countenance. The
inscription on the tomb runs thus :

Here Lockyer lies interr'd ; enough, his name
Speaks one hath few competitors in fame.
A Name soe Great, soe Generall 'tmay scorne
Inscriptions which doe vulgar tombs adorne.
A diminution 'tis to write in verse,
His eulogies w'h most men's mouth's rehearse.
His virtues & his PILL are soe well known
That envy can't confine them under stone.
But they'l survive his dust and not expire
Till all things else at th' universall fire.

A CORNER OF THE LADY CHAPEL

io8 JOHN HARVARD' s PARISH CHURCH. [April,

This verse is lost, his PlLLS Embalm him safe
To future times without an Epitaph.
Deceased April 26th, A. D. 1672. Aged 72.

There are more reasons than its quaint spelling why this
verse should not be lost. Lockyer, as an old history of Surrey
tells us, used to ride about with his Merry Andrew, each on a
piebald horse, selling the renowned Pill. He certainly was an
artist who knew how to get " local color " into his works, for
in his advertisement he says that his pills are "extracted from
the rays of the sun," and that the remedy was " an antidote
against the mischief of fogs." Could there be better bait for
the gullible Londoner? He also tells the public that his prepa-
ration " increases Beauty and makes old Age comely." He adds
the following advice : " They that be well and deserve to be so,
let them take the pills once a week."

But the epitaph-hunter will find many other nuggets of pure
gold besides the touching tribute to Lockyer and his Pill. Let
him. look for the mural brass inscribed as follows:

SVSANNA BARFORD,

DEPARTED THIS LIFE THE ZOTH OF AVGVST, 1652,

AGED 10 YEARS 13 WEEKES.
THE NON-SVCH OF THE WORLD FOR PIETY AND VIRTVE

IN SOE TENDER YEARS.

AND DEATH AND ENVYE BOTH MVST SAY 'TWAS FITT
HER MEMORY SHOVLD THUS IN BRASSE BEE WRITT.

HERE LYES INTERR'D WITHIN THIS BED OF DVST
A VIRGIN PVRE, NOT STAIN'D WITH CARNALL LVST :
SVGH GRACE THE KING OF KINGS BESTOW'D VPON HER
THAT NOW SHE LIVES WITH HIM A MAID OF HONOVR.
HER STAGE WAS SHORT, HER THREAD WAS QVICKLY SPVN,
DRAWNE OVT, AND CVT, GOTT HEAV'N, HER WORK WAS DONE.
THIS WORLD TO HER WAS BVT A TRACED PLAY,
SHE CAME AND SAW'T, DISLIK'T, AND PASS'D AWAY.

Excellent to preserve for use in a moving funeral peroration
are the lines which (translated from the Latin) run thus :
" These be the incinerated remains of Richard Benefield, Asso-
ciate of Gray's Inn. To them, after they were thoroughly
purified by the frankincense of his piety, the nard of his pro-
bity, the amber of his faithfulness, and the oil of his charity,
his relatives, friends, the poor, every one in fact, have added
the sweet-scented myrrh of their commendation and the fresh
balsam of their tears."

A little tablet on the wall bears the name of Abraham New-
land. He was in the service of the Bank of England for near-
ly a half century and finally rose to be chief cashier. He
wrote this epitaph to be placed upon his tomb, but his land-

1896.] JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH. 109

lady, to whom the lonely old bachelor left his large fortune,
was considerate enough to disregard his wishes in that respect :

" Beneath this stone old Abraham lies :
Nobody laughs and nobody cries :
Where he is gone and how he fares,
No one knows and no one cares."

There are many other curious and interesting epitaphs for
which there is no space left here.

Among the many notable tombs is that of Alderman Humble.

BISHOP ANDREWES.

It is a large canopied structure in the Renaissance style. Three
kneeling statuettes under the canopy represent the worthy alder-
man and his two wives, while around the base in relief are his
children kneeling in a row and duly graduated in size from the
oldest down to the youngest. On one side are these lines :

" Like to the damask rose you see,
Or like the blossom on the tree,
Or like the dainty flower in May,

no JOHN HARVARD'S PARISH CHURCH. [April,

Or like the morning of the day,
Or like the sun, or like the shade,
Or like the gourd which Jonas had ;
Even so is man, whose thread is spun,
Drawn out and cut — and so is done !

The rose withers, the blossom blasteth,

The flower fades, the morning hasteth,

The sun sets, the shadow flies,

The gourd consumes, the man he dies."

Not far from this tomb is an interesting effigy of a crusader,
clad in chain-armor with a helmet on his head and. a lion at his
feet. It is an interesting example of thirteenth-century carving
in oak.

Many broken bits of pottery, coins, urns, and other remains
of the Roman occupation of Great Britain have been dug up
near St. Saviour's, and the floor of one part of the south aisle
is laid with tiles found in the adjoining churchyard — tiles which,
doubtless, were once the pavement of some Roman villa.

The Lady Chapel, which has been left until the last, almost
deserves a volume in itself. Many writers on architecture have
grown enthusiastic over its symmetry, its rare beauty and its
perfection of detail, which make it one of the best and purest
specimens of Early English to be found anywhere.

It has its historical associations too. Here the well-known
Bishop Andrewes is buried. On the other side of the chapel a
window, " presented by grateful Protestants " as the inscription
tells us, commemorates the fact that, when a turn-about in the
play came in Queen Mary's reign, Archdeacon Philpot was here
condemned to the stake. He is represented in the window
with a stern expression of countenance and with these words issu-
ing from his lips to his judges: "Your sacrament of the Mass is
no sacrament at all, neither is Christ in any wise in it." Doubt-
less the sturdy archdeacon took his fate philosophically, for he
declared in the course of his trial that a woman called " Joan of
Kent," whom he had sent to the stake as a heretic a few years
before, " was indeed well worthy to be burned."

It would be impossible to exhaust the attractions of this
ancient church in an article of such a length as the present.
Enough has, perhaps, been said to convince the reader that on
his next visit to London a pilgrimage to St. Saviour's, South-
wark, will be time well spent.

1896.] FOR THE PARTY, FOR THE STATE, ETC. in

FOR THE PARTY, FOR THE STATE, OR FOR
THE NATION.

CONFESS that I apprehend much less for demo-
cratic society from the boldness than from the
mediocrity of desires." So wrote De Tocqueville
sixty years ago. Although it was the remark of
an aristocrat, noting what to him was a painful
void everywhere apparent in a vast Republic, there was much
shrewdness in it. It is certainly a drawback to daring minds
that there is so little opportunity for even a tentative Caesarism
here. The chevaux-de-frise of provisions with which the Con-
stitution bristles, the ever-vigilant spirit of democracy, the
abhorrence of servility and obsequiousness, the repugnance to
patronage — every traditional instinct and sentiment of the
American race, in brief, forbids the notion of a return to
monarchical and aristocratic rule. The parting of the ways
begun at Lexington was a parting once and for ever. No sane
man who is able to judge of events and opinions and human
tendencies can ever dream of the possibility of a monarchical
resuscitation on the soil of the United States.

Before any one attempts the consideration of what De
Tocqueville's dictum means, he must have clearly made up his
mind as to what really constitutes greatness in the state and in
the individual. This is the most elementary essential to a solu-
tion of the great problem which this reflection raises. What is
the role of the United States of America? Is it the role of the
Destroyer, or that of the Achiever? The country has answered
that question for itself long ago. America is the land of peace
no less than that of liberty. The child of war, she is yet the
eldest daughter of peace. Her conquests are in the field of
civilization and human progress. If she has drawn the sword,
it was that her path might be freed from obstacles to the
working out of a calm and ennobling destiny. She aspires to
lead the human race, but not in the paths of Sesostris and
Tamerlane.

To minds constituted like De Tocqueville's this plane of
ambition is not the most attractive. To the France of his day
war had brought so many dazzling triumphs, with the substan-
tial advantages that Frenchmen never overlook, that a military

ii2 FOR THE PARTY, FOR THE STATE, [April,

career and the surroundings of a court seemed to all daring
minds the only material objects worth pursuing. Everything
peaceful and commercial was commonplace and humdrum. Yet
the peculiar constitution of public life in this country offers
facilities for the gratification of illegitimate ambition, if the
individual be found daring enough to indulge it. A man may
not hope to become a sovereign or found a dynasty, but he
may avail himself of political conditions and the weakness and
corruptibility of human nature to enjoy all the advantages of a
sovereign and absolute dictatorship. This has been done again
and again, not merely in the district or the town, but through-
out a large territory. Ambitious and unscrupulous men have
from time to time arisen who, by debauching the' public ser-
vice, have temporarily made themselves the virtual lawgivers
and dictators in both 'urban and rural affairs. But in the end
the retribution came, memorable and stern enough. Public
opinion is often sluggish and thick-skinned, but those who
deem it dead, or even cataleptic in affairs of long-continued
fraud and unconstitutionality, are usually convinced of their
error in good time.

Admirable as our Constitution is in its main features and
provisions, it affords far too many loopholes for both the
ambitious political trickster and the grasping private speculator.
In the relations of the urban populations to the rural, in those
of the electorate to the representatives, and in the facilities for
unlawful commercial combination in the form of trusts and
syndicates, lie the greatest danger to the public welfare.

To the people of any country, it matters but very little,
practically, whether those who contrive to neutralize their will
and plunder them of their resources be called sovereign or
commonwealth. But from a sentimental point of view, there is
a vast difference between ..the tyranny and enslavement of a
despot who enriches his country by his conquests, and that of
a sordid political trickster who seeks nothing but his own ag-
grandizement 'and that of his partisans. The nation may be
proud of the one, with all his faults ; for the other there can
be no feeling but contempt.

In the proposed scheme for the enlargement of New York
City a constitutional experiment of the most crucial kind seems
likely to be essayed. We seem destined to behold one party
in the State, under. the management of one individual, boldly
attempting to arrange the whole machinery of the State so
that that particular party and that particular individual may be

1896.] OR FOR THE NATION. 113

masters of the situation in all things even when they have out-
lived their fortuitous popularity. Two principles of the most vital
importance to the American commonwealth are struck at in the
measure called The Greater New York Bill. One of these is the
principle of local self-government, and the other the principle of
party government according to the rule of the majority for the
time being. These things are of the essence of the Constitution.

The boldness of this design is the only thing that compels
one's admiration. New York State and City are justly regarded as
the most important members of the great American Republic.
In commercial status, in material progress, in intellectual force,
they are typical of modern civilization. They are the very
flower of the free American nation ; and yet it is upon this
city, this state, and this people that the experiment of setting
up a bogus king called a boss, and fastening an irremovable
party yoke upon the neck of the public, is about to be tried.
Simplicity and grandeur do not unite better in an old Doric
temple than in this ingenuous but audacious design.

For many years the City of New York has had an unenvia-
ble notoriety before the world. Again and again has it been
held up to the scorn and execration of mankind as the focus
of all forms of corruption, civic rottenness, and licensed infamy.
It richly deserved all the opprobrium which it got in this
moral pillory — not in itself, but in its sins. Like many a poor
penitent of mediaeval times, it bore its white sheet and lighted
candle in public as the punishment of a participated sin in which
some one who got off scot-free and unsuspected was the chief
offender. Practically speaking, the city had no more control
over its own- life than it had over the irresponsible tide. Its
fortunes were always the shuttlecock of political parties, and
the fact that the game was played away up at Albany removed
the players from the influence of that wonderful deterrent of
evil-doing, public opinion. Had Imperial Rome, in the heyday
of her greatness, suffered herself to be ruled by the periwinkle
port of Ostia, the absurdity could hardly have been greater.
It was the absence of municipal energy and vitality which
this anomalous position of things naturally caused that
enabled the mannikin Caesars vulgarly known as the bosses to
strut and fret their hour upon the stage. These strange fungi
in the garden of liberty could flourish in no other atmosphere.
Our political system has been drawn upon such lines that in
its very generosity evils that the most odious tyranny would
never dream of getting the public to tolerate are rendered not
VOL. LXIII.— 8

ii4 F°R THE PARTY, FOR IHE STATE, [April,

only possible but almost ineradicable. To remove the roots
and tentacles of the boss system from New York has now
become a task equal to the whole of the labors of Hercules.

Two designs were at work in the drafting of the Greater
New York Bill. First it was thought to secure permanent
power for one party, for an indefinite period, over all the
administration of the immense territory embraced in the ambit
of the bill. The ground had been diligently prepared for this
bold undertaking, by means of various minor legislative enact-
ments dealing with sundry public offices, judicial and depart-
mental. The placing of the governmental power in the hands of
a commission, not ^elective but rogatory, and vesting the choice
of this commission in the hands of the governor of the State,
was the bold idea. Were it proposed to place the city of
Warsaw, in a state of insurrection, under a similar pretence of
local rule, the proposition would be denounced as Muscovite
despotism. But to have it coolly contemplated and propounded
in the metropolitan State where the statue of Liberty stands
sentinel at the gate is the marvel which a long familiarity with
political effrontery, testing the power of public endurance, has
deprived of the power to awaken our astonishment.

The military system of Frederick the Great is the model
followed in the carrying out of the remainder of the design. A
fighting machine which should act with clock-work precision,
subordinating the man to the duty in every emergency, might
have its counterpart in the world of politics, by the adoption
of careful methods. Intellect, sitting serene and isolated in its
tent, could direct all the operations, as did Von Moltke the
movements in a great campaign. A Greater New York opened
up to the eyes of a ravening army of office-seekers a loyal
body of representatives with whom state interests and party
interests were identical, a governor whose impartiality, although
a strict party man, was respectably maintained — what more
could any monarch desire ? Undisputed sway, absolute obedi-
ence, the intoxication of supremacy — every element which gives
a glamour to a crown and a sceptre, in a word, was in the pros-
pect. Happily there is some public spirit left in the good men
of either political party, and at the eleventh hour it woke up
to the danger and made a successful struggle for the principle
of local control in the drafting of the Bill. It was conceded
by the conspirators that the nine representative men of the
commission to administer Greater New York while its final dis-
position was being hammered out in the Legislature, should be
at least men representing the localities affected, not outsiders.

1896.] OR FOR THE NATION. IIJ

This concession is not sufficient. Already the dangerous prin-
ciple of self-election or nomination had been carried far enough.
The gentlemen from New York City and Brooklyn who had
been most prominent in the arduous work of consolidation have
a position under the scheme by courtesy.. It is the people of
the localities whose fortunes are at stake who have the right to
say who shall represent their interests and who shall be ac-
countable to them for the mode in which they discharge their
function. This country is democratic America, and not auto-
cratic Russia.

" The Americans," remarked De Tocqueville, " have not the
slightest notion of peculiar privileges granted to cities, fami-
lies, or persons." Having asserted the principle that the supreme
power ought to and does emanate from the people, they leave the
cities, families, and individuals to take care of their own rights
as best they may. There could, therefore, be no more unfavor-
able soil for the development of the salutary principle of home
rule for cities, and few better for the cultivation of individual
ambitions at the expense of the community. The only change
which has taken place in the conditions here, since the shrewd
Frenchman wrote the observation, is that the sphere of ambi-
tion in cities has been immensely enlarged. So far from
having privileges, they are usually at the mercy of the outside
State, and made regularly to pay toll and tribute for the right
of being allowed to exist. What more striking example of
their vassalage and helplessness could be given than that of
the Raines Licensing Bill ? Were the State of New York peo-
pled by a Turkish population, with a Moslem government, and
the city inhabited by dogs of Giaour infidels, the relations
intern and extern could not be more antagonistic, so far as
practical results are concerned. The city is regarded as the
natural prey of the State at large.

Whilst the prosperity of a country largely depends upon her
agriculture, as well as the resources of the soil in general, the
important part played by the great cities in the national devel-
opment is too often underrated. In our case this is especially
true. Our cities have mostly grown up hap-hazard, and the
want of a system of trained citizenship in their administra-
tion is the penalty of their precocious growth. Of late years
it has dawned upon us that we stand in need of civic training
if we would have our cities properly administered. The perni-
cious system of district boss and ward politician has been so
long fastened upon the bigger cities, especially New York, that
many had begun to despair of ever being able to shake it off.

ii6 FOR THE PARTY, FOR THE STATE, [April,

We of course had investigations and recriminations and rear-
rangement of the pieces on the board, but after each had made
its nine days' wonder, things settled down into the well-worn
venerable ruts as before. There was no public spirit with any
staying power in it. The heterogeneousness of New York's
population is, no doubt, the cause of this woful lack. It is
not a residential city except for a shifting population; its mer-
cantile and official nabobs live out of town ; its busiest streets
are deserted after night-fall. What its working population have
been taught in its public schools is not very ennobling as a
training for good citizenship. That getting of money is the
great duty of life is the lesson which everything around them
teaches. The politicians do not preach it — they practise it ; the
commercial classes are engaged in an everlasting effort to real-
ize it. Political spoils and commercial gains — these are the
main constituents of the atmosphere amid which the voters of
New York have been raised. It has not entered into the minds
of the mass of city voters that purity in city politics is an
essential part of patriotism. Party ties were usually paramount
over every other consideration. Yet there is nothing extraor-
dinary in this fact. No higher morality exists in the mass of
voters in, say, England, or the countries of Northern Europe,
whose people are not swayed by the fiery impulsiveness of the
Celtic blood. And it must be acknowledged that the men and
the leaders who deem civic spoils fair game, and civic morality
a hypocritical pretence, have always stood up for the Union as
an inviolable principle and would shed the last drop of their
blood for the Stars and Stripes. This may sound paradoxical,
but it has been proved to be true.

If we are ever to have a high standard in the public service
in cities, we shall have to surmount a difficulty which, under
existing conditions, appears almost insuperable. The public
services need to be lifted out of politics, from top to bottom.
It is only by maintaining this rule that older countries have se-
cured efficiency, and that absence of demoralization in periods
of political upheaval which is indispensable for the public wel-
fare. The civil work of the public administration should be
carried on in an atmosphere of judicial calm, for this is es-
sential to the working of the machinery of our every-day life.
On the enforcement of those laws which are necessary for the
social well-being of great cities especially, no political fluctua-
tions should be suffered to have the slightest effect. Without
such regulations we should have chaos ; and such regulations
are useless to prevent it unless they are made active agencies

1896.] OR FOR THE NATION. I I/

in our daily life. We have seen how, by an honest attempt to
give effect to the Sunday Liquor Laws, the city of New York
has retrieved its reputation as a law-abiding capital. Although
a Republican in politics, the new chief Commissioner of Police
was a neutral as regards his enforcement of the law and his
management of the police force. There is no reason why his
example should not be imitated in every other department of
the city's administration — save that of inveterate custom. Mr.
Roosevelt has given us the most valuable object-lesson we ever
had in the feasibility of separating the partisan from the citi-
zen. He has proved that the law can be made supreme despite
the most powerful combinations of privileged law-breakers, and
that it is possible to secure the decency and sobriety of the
ideal American Sunday in even the largest community.

But society is not in a healthy state when individuals have
to be pointed to as examples in the conscientious discharge of
high public duty. Sound morality requires that principles, not
individuals, be looked to for a pure civic life. It is only the
stern compulsion of a real condition which justifies the citation of
such examples. In other countries, where the public service is
carried on upon less democratic and more business-like methods,
the responsible head of a great department is not subjected to
the fierce glare of publicity in all his administrative acts, nor is
he supposed, nor would he be permitted, to come before the
public and explain or defend his policy and his work. The
wheels of public life run noiselessly in well-worn grooves, and
if anything go wrong with the machinery the engineer is called
upon to explain the wherefore to the responsible minister. But
here everything is done corain publico, and the popular vote —
not infrequently the voice of passion — decides ethical questions
of the highest moment to the interests of great municipalities.

It having been demonstrated, then, that salutary laws can be
enforced in the largest of American cities, the question to be
considered is, can anything be devised whereby enough men
of honesty, ability, and courage to carry out the laws may be
always assured ? It is for this reason the legislation pending in
the New York Legislature demands the most earnest attention
and vigilance on the part of all who desire the best in public
life, whether in state or city. As originally proposed, there was
but too much ground for apprehension of danger in the two
measures which affect the city. When powers were sought by
which the Police Board was to be controlled, as in the old evil
days, from outside, and the beneficial results of a single-minded

ii8 FOR THE PARTY, FOR THE STATE, ETC. [April,

rule swept away by one stroke of the pen, it was time to awake
to the gravity of the peril. This was undoubtedly what was
aimed at in the proposed commission of nine gubernatorial nomi-
nees. It remains to be seen whether the danger has been over-
come by the restriction of the governor's power to nominate to
residents of the localities affected. It is only by the action of a
healthy public opinion in the interval between now and the
period fixed for reporting the charter for Greater New York to
the Legislature that we can escape the danger. The maxim
that we should all act on, in laying the foundations of muni-
cipal government for the new great city, ought to be, briefly —
the best laws, made by the best men, and the best obedience
to them when made.

Nor should any party in power ever think that because they
have for the time being the opportunity in their hands to
abuse the trust confided to them they may safely exercise it
by providing for the perpetuation of their own rule by tricky
means. The power- to commit evil does not secure against
the liability of punishment for evil. In no country is this
moral brought home more impressively than here, where the
unjust judge and the corrupt official are often swiftly hurried
off to the Tarpeian Rock of public disgrace by the over-
whelming shout of the ballot-boxes. It is no less necessary
for a party to be animated by a high motive than for an
individual of the party to form a high ideal of his public
duty. The day is far distant, we fear, when such a state of
mind will prevail in political life. But is this any reason why
we should abandon the effort to bring it near ? Every better
instinct of our moral nature cries out emphatically No ! We
can only hope for ultimate success by learning nobly to bear
failure, even though it be again and again repeated.

We must not forget, when discharging the apparently simple
duties of good citizenship honestly, that we effect more than a
single good. In striking at abuses in the city we also aim a
blow at the still deadlier system of machine rule or "boss"
rule. That system, if allowed to triumph here, means the vir-
tual subversion of free republican institutions, and the setting
up of uncrowned and conscienceless despots. Our elastic State
constitutions and free-and-easy methods constantly invite ambi-
tious pretenders of this kind, even though some be kept on ex-
hibition at Sing Sing as a warning and example. In working
for a good citizenship we work for a noble statehood and for
the glory of the nation.

1896.] SUPERSENSITIVE CONSTITUTIONALISM. I 19

SUPERSENSITIVE CONSTITUTIONALISM.

BY REV. THOMAS McMILLAN.

IGOTRY'S army has sent its Uhlans up almost to
our very gates. They are heard from at Troy
the new, where as in old Troy it might have
been whispered in alarm Proximus ardet Ucalegon*
But the danger is happily past ; a little douche
of cold water, in the shape of common sense, has disposed of
the trouble, at least for the present.

There is not sufficient public school accommodation in
West Troy. It is not openly alleged that the Jesuit order is
responsible for the deficiency, but people have their own views
on the matter. The Board of Education has been called upon
to deal with the question of school accommodation and school
teachers. In the new building close by the Church of St. Bridget
there were spacious, well-lighted rooms, and after due negotiations
these rooms were secured for the service of the State. A
number of ladies were employed as teachers, and among these
happened to be six who are sisters belonging to the convent.
Though the school was opened according to the rules of the
Board of Education, and has been conducted, ever since, strictly
in accordance with these rules, the watch-dogs of the Constitu-
tion have been giving tongue. In the fact that the rooms were
leased from the trustees of a Roman Catholic Church they
detected a dangerous playing with fire ; in the stipulation by
the trustees that they provide heat for the rooms they dis-
cerned a clumsy device for the introduction of Roman Catholic
dogma under the guise of steam ; and a crowning treason to
the laws of the State was palpable in the fact that the six
sisters employed with the other teachers presumed to wear the
habit of their religious order.

Action, it was imperatively felt, was necessary, if the public
weal was to be preserved from an insidious foe, and a quartette
of patriotic men threw themselves into the breach, determined
to prevent the introduction of Roman Catholic steam into the
public-school system at all hazards. They drew up an appeal
to the Superintendent of Public Instruction, setting forth at
great length their reasons for concluding that a dangerous con-

120 SUPERSEJtfSITIVE CONSTITUTIONALISM. [April,

spiracy was being developed in West Troy, and praying that
action be taken to nip it in the bud.

An answer to this challenge has been drawn up by Mr. James
F. Tracey, the counsel for the Board of Education. It is a cate-
gorical denial of the inferences on which the indictment rests,
and a full vindication of the steps taken by the board as a
constitutional proceeding. The statement is strengthened by an
appendix containing letters of approbation from the following
delegates to the Constitutional Convention at which the amend-
ment under which the appellants claim to act was passed : Louis
Marshall, Edward Lauterbach, John T. McDonough, Milo M.
Acker, John A. Barhite, Frederick Fraser, A. B. Steele, Judges
Barnard and Morgan J. O'Brien. The judicial and legal status
of most of these gentlemen lends the opinion they endorse a
strength and value which bigotry will not find it easy to shake.

The main bases upon which the objectors founded their
appeal are thus recited : " That an ancient tablet designating
the building in which these leased rooms are situated as a
' parochial school ' had not been removed from over the door-
way; that the lease gives to the board exclusive control of the
school-rooms during school hours only ; that the six teachers in
the school who are ' sisters ' are commonly dressed as such, and
wear the garb of their order, and that prior to the creation of
this board and (as charged in one of the affidavits filed by the
appellants) during the first month of its existence, though with-
out its sanction, children who were Catholics were in the habit
of coming to the school without any order from the commis-
sioners, but voluntarily, either on their own motion or at the
instance of their church authorities, for the purpose of receiv-
ing religious instruction before school hours."

Various other matters are set forth at great length in the
appeal, but they are of a very loose and rambling nature. For
instance, it is alleged, inter alia, " that certain newspapers and
individuals, who are not named, have recently spoken of the
school as 'a parochial school'; that in the year 1885, ten years
before this board came into existence, a Roman Catholic pas-
tor of a church at West Troy published a pamphlet which
indicated (to the understanding of the appellants) that it was
his expectation, in the event of the taking of this property for
use as a public school, that he would retain some influence or
control over its management ; that the village assessors did not
assess this property, thereby indicating either that they con-
sidered it as church property or that they had regard to its

1896.] SUPERSENSITIVE CONSTITUTIONALISM. 121

actual use as a public school, for the fact is consistent with
either supposition. No fact was adduced to show that this
pastor or any other person unconnected with the lawful man-
agement exerted any influence in the school."

Mr. Tracey begins his reply for the Education Board by
noting that it is a bi-partisan body, equally divided as to
religion and politics, and that the resolutions under which the
school was authorized were passed unanimously. Then he goes
on to take up and answer the objections categorically. To
point first he maintains that " the lease and the contracts must
be sustained unless so illegal as to be void." This answer he
justifies by a specific quotation of the statute and a legal argu-
ment showing how its provisions have been rigidly observed in
the transaction. To point second he urges that "This school
as organized, established, and maintained is lawful, because so
recognized by the Legislature." The legal grounds for this
answer then follow. To point third he answers that " the law
on the subject of religion in the public schools is now em-
bodied in the Constitution of this State." It was at the late
Constitutional Convention that this law was laid down, and the
clause which most clearly delimits it is embodied in this clause :

" Neither the State nor any subdivision thereof shall use its
property or credit or any public money, or authorize or permit
either to be used, directly or indirectly, in aid or maintenance,
other than for examination or inspection, of any school or in-
stitution of learning wholly or in part under the control or direc-
tion of any religious denomination, or in which any denomina-
tional tenet or doctrine is taught''

" This," says Mr. Tracey, " is now the defined and declared
policy of our law as to the restrictions upon education on ac-
count of religion. It is not a partial or tentative enactment,
but is the complete enunciation of the popular will. Every-
thing within the lines of this prohibition must be rigorously ex-
cluded ; nothing outside of these lines can be excluded on the
ground of public policy. When the people have thus solemnly
spoken, it is not competent for any authority to say ' Their
utterance is too feeble — or too strong. We may improve upon
it.'

"This view of the completeness and effectiveness of the
constitutional declaration of public policy upon a subject here-
tofore untouched upon, is in harmony with every principle of
constitutional construction. Any other doctrine would defeat
the popular will. Even if there had been prior statutes or

122 SUPERSENSITIVE CONSTITUTIONALISM. [April,

decisions on this subject, they would be swept away by the en-
actment of this article."

Point fourth, regarding the alleged informality of the lease,
the teachers' contracts, and the pretence that the school is un-
der the control of any religious denomination, is treated at much
length by Mr. Tracey. Interest most concentrates itself upon
the question as to religious garb. He says :

" By reference to the proceedings of the Constitutional Con-
vention, it will appear that the question of the religious garb
in the schools was expressly considered by the convention at
large as well as in committee, and that an amendment designed
to expressly forbid it was rejected.

"A garb cannot by any reasonable construction of language
be considered as the teaching of a doctrine or tenet. On the con-
trary, it is the best possible preventive against such teaching,
for it proclaims at once the opinions of the wearer, thus put-
ting on guard all those who differ from them. It is in the un-
suspected teaching of the unproclaimed partisan or zealot that
danger lurks. It is idle to say that the dress must carry its in-
fluence. No teacher can be cut off from the influence of his
personality, his character, his reputation. All these proclaim
and commend his personal views, religious, social, or political,
as unmistakably as any costume worn by him could, and far
more effectively, but they are not forbidden, nor can they be.
The law says only that he shall not use them for the purpose
of teaching a doctrine or tenet. The mere religious garb pro-
claims no doctrine. It is not connected with any church func-
tion, but is worn every day in all places.

" In many schools throughout this State there are clerical
teachers whose garb avows their calling, and who are among
the most efficient of our instructors, especially in the rural dis-
tricts. Will the Superintendent of Public Instruction, by pro-
hibiting any distinctively denominational garb in the schools,
compel the discharge of all these teachers now in the service of
the State ? Is the clerical garb, distinctive of Christian minis-
ters, obnoxious to attack by every non-Christian inhabitant, be
he Hebrew, or free-thinker, or a follower of Buddha ?

" In the other great co-ordinate branch of the Educational
Department of this State, the highest official, the Chancellor of
the University, is a well-known clergyman, habitually wearing
a clerical garb. One of the Regents is a Roman Catholic priest,
habited in the collar and cloth characteristic of the clergy of
that denomination. A third, one of the most learned, efficient,

1896.]

SUPERSENSITIVE CON STITUTIONA LISM.

123

and progressive members of the board, and its Vice-Chancellor,
is a bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church, who is not
only uniformly addressed by his ecclesiastical title as bishop,
but whose clerical costume peculiar to his office and his denomi-
nation alone, and none other, proclaims to all men, to every
teacher with whom he is brought in contact, to every scholar
in each school that he may enter, his religious rank, principles,
and profession."

To point fifth, which deals with the question of religious
garb by another method of attack, he argues that a rule debar-
ring teachers from wearing a religious garb would be uncon-
stitutional ; and to point sixth and last he declares, and sustains
by argument, that " the interpretation of the Constitution by
the Legislature of the State is in accord with the doctrine of
this brief, and should be adhered to."

Mr. Tracey's brief says in conclusion : " The lease and teach-
ers' contracts complained of in this matter were within the
power granted by the Legislature to the Board of Education
of the West Troy School District. They have been recognized
or authorized by the Legislature. They are not in violation of
the public policy of this State, as now declared in its Constitu-
tion. To set them aside would deprive the other parties to
the contracts of their rights, would wrest from the teachers
their means of livelihood, and would, therefore, in itself be a
violation of the guarantees of the Constitution. Such a decision
in this matter must reach all similar cases and all other sects,
and prove to be unconstitutional and void."

The decision of the case is still pending. As it involves the
interpretation of the new Constitution, the final verdict can be
given only by competent legal authority. The State Superin-
tendent of Public Instruction will need the aid of his most
learned advisers before giving his answer to points in dispute.

A SMALL volume called Tan-Ho* by S. T. Crookr
is amongst the latest Catholic publications. There
are men (and we believe women, too) who under-
take for wagers to travel around the world without
any capital, just to show that the feat may be ac-
complished. This book seems to be written to prove that the
same thing may be done without any brains. It is so silly that
to read even one chapter of it is a sort of literary martyrdom.

Perhaps the most singular figure in the '48 movement in
Ireland was James Fintan Lalor. Of him it may be truthfully
said that he stamped his individual impress deeply upon two
political movements in that country, and it may not be going
too far to say that that impress will yet be felt all over the
civilized world in the troubled domain of social economy. For
any one who takes the trouble to read the published works of
this extraordinary intellect must see at once that it was he who
gave the idea of the absolute right of the whole people of a
country to the soil, as since developed by Mr. Henry George
in his famous Progress and Poverty. The fons et origo of this
idea was a dark and fateful one. It had its rise in the dismal
famine in Ireland in 1847 — an awful portent, truly !

It is only very recently that a brother of James Fintan
Lalor's passed away, and few who knew Richard Lalor, who
was a very unobtrusive member of the Irish Parliamentary
Party, would imagine that nearly half a century had elapsed
since his celebrated brother was laid in the grave. Yet long as
the seed was about taking root, Richard Lalor had the conso-
lation of seeing at last it was bearing some fruit. Its principle
has been so far acknowledged by the British government that
the tenant is now recognized to have a partnership in the soil
with the landlord. This is surely a great step in advance ; and
everything points to something far more astonishing in the future.

* Tan-Ho : A Tale of Travel and Adventure. By S. T. Crook. New York : Benziger
Brothers ; London : Burns & Oates.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 125

We are indebted to Mr. T. G. O'Donaghue, of Dublin, for
the publication of a brief memoir of James Fintan Lalor, to-
gether with his letters to The Nation and The Irish Felon. Mr.
John O'Leary, who was an associate of his in the '48 move-
ment, writes an introduction to these papers.*

As Mr. O'Leary was never in accord with the land struggle
in Ireland, so far as we can recollect, it is not a little generous
of him now to help the public to some knowledge of the great
part which Lalor had in pushing that practical idea to the
front. The brief memoir of Lalor furnished by the publisher
gives us a better idea of the man, physically and intellectually,
than anything else in the book. We should say, from what we
learn in the whole volume, that James Fintan Lalor was a* sort
of Irish Cathelineau, without the Breton's fierce religious en-
thusiasm, but with all his high-strung devotion to a cause which
he held to be sacred. He had never been heard of until the
split between the Repeal Association and the Young Ireland
party, when the horrors of the famine drew many a retiring
man into the vortex of extreme politics. Lalor then wrote
several letters to the Nation which immediately riveted public
attention by their fervid earnestness and their relentless logic.
He went at once to the root of things. He declared that the
title of the landlords of Ireland to the soil was fraudulent, in-
asmuch as it was founded on conquest and maintained against
the will of the people, and with the sole object of plundering
the people. He laid at their doors the deaths of the famine
victims, inasmuch as they had seized on the produce of the
corn harvest for their rents and left the people only the potato
crop, whose failure was universal. He advised a general refusal
to pay rent, and called for a national convention to decide upon
the best means of taking up the whole soil of the country for
the benefit of the entire population. It was not for Ireland
alone that he claimed this right. The soil everywhere, he main-
tained, was general property, and could not be held exclusively
by the few to the detriment of the many. These, in brief,
were the theories he propounded and the advice he gave ; and
he showed that he was profoundly in earnest by the public
part he took in the abortive insurrection of 1848. He was ar-
rested and thrown into prison, but being in delicate health, was
released, only to die after a few days' restoration to liberty.

There is no doubt that Lalor's extreme views were forced

* The Writings of James Fintan Lalor. With an Introduction, embodying Personal
Recollections, by John O'Leary ; and a brief Memoir. Dublin : T. G. O'Donaghue, Aston's-
quay ; Peabody, Mass.: Francis Nugent.

126 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

on him by the desperate nature of the catastrophe which over-
took his country, but neither can there be any denial of the
truth of his indictment of the system of Irish landlordism and
the foreign rule which maintains it. The record of the Turk in
Armenia is not one whit blacker. To understand the time of
which he writes it is necessary to read the writings of Lalor.
We are glad Mr. O'Leary has given the outside world an op-
portunity of doing so.

The volume in which they are published is the first of a
series called " The Shamrock Library." Other works of a re-
presentative Irish character are promised by the publisher.

Between matrimony and a convent is the choice which novel-
ists frequently treat as the Bridge of Sighs whenever a Catholic
lady is the fictitious heroine placed in the dilemma. Even with
Catholic writers who sympathize with the nobler motive the
theme is often treated in such a way as to leave the impression
that there is some dreadful sorrow to be wept over when the
spiritual bridehood is chosen rather than the earthly one. Wo-
men are especially fond of expatiating upon this theme. It
possesses temptations in dramatic effect which they are power-
less to resist when they suffer from poverty of imagination in
the business of novel writing. The newest book on this theme
is one called The Circus-Rider s Daughter* One has not to
read very far without discovering that it does not need the
brand " made in Germany " to indicate its origin. The ingenu-
ousness of the work is its wonderful feature. It may safely be
said that, like Bunthorne's poem, there is not a word in it to
bring a blush to the cheek of modesty, but neither is there much
to show that the mind of an adult had guided the pen of the
writer. The childlike and bland simplicity of Ah Sin is diplo-
matic refinement beside the Arcadian naivete" of the marionettes
who represent human life in this nursery-governess novel.
Whether this impression be due to the author or the transla-
tor we have no present means of determining. Throughout the
whole work there is such an odd mixture of the pathetic and
the ludicrous, and such a want of fitness between emotion and
phraseology, as to make the reader uncertain of the spirit in
which its situations ought to be accepted.

The cast-iron social system of Germany, with its stuck-up
and often stupid nobility and its subservient bourgeoisie, fur-
nishes the motive for the work. A scion of the junker class

* The Circus- Rider's Daughter. By F. v. Brackel. Translated by Mary A. Mitchell.
New York : Benziger Brothers.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 127

falls in love with a young lady whose father happens to own a
circus. This is the cause of trouble. The infatuated young
noble has a mother who has more than a double dose of family
pride and a forty-mule power of obstinacy and stupidity. The
young lady's father, who is a French nobleman by birth but a
circus-man by accident, has determined to bring up his daugh-
ter as a lady of good social standing, and not as a member of
the circus profession, although she herself had decided leanings
for an equestrian career. He has even promised her mother,
who was an Irish lady, on her death-bed, that he would keep
the girl out of the atmosphere of the ring. Despite these pre-
cautions, however, she and Count Degenthal (whose Christian
name is Curt, while hers is Nora) contrive to meet and fall vio-
lently in love. The countess-mother is not more opposed to
what she considers a mesalliance than the equestrian father, but
after sundry passages at arms an understanding is arrived at that
a period of two years is to be given the enamored pair to test
the quality of their attachment by keeping apart, with the agree-
ment that if they still love at the end of that period they may
be united. Meantime a villain suddenly appears on the scene,
through whose machinations, entirely unaccountable and unex-
plained, the circus-owner thinks he is brought to the verge of
ruin, and that nothing can save him but the appearance of his
daughter in public as a circus-rider. The fond parent suddenly
becomes the furious, unreasoning, selfish tyrant, insisting upon
his daughter doing what he had been so scrupulously careful
about her not doing previously, and on her refusal attempts to
take his own life. She, however, saves him from death and
promises to obey him, although she knows her decision means
the loss of her noble lover. She becomes an equestrienne ; her
lover marries his cousin ; and when the equestrienne's father
dies she retires into a convent, whose superior knows her and
her history, and becomes a great instrument for good. This,
briefly, is the groundwork of the story ; and in good hands the
social and psychological elements arising from it ought to make
an effective work. As it is, the performance is a patchwork.
The gravest situations abound in puerilities, the action of the
chief characters is often abrupt, unexpected, and inconsistent,
the dialogue pointless, and the description feeble. There is an
utter absence of that delicate firmness in the delineation of in-
dividuals, and that power of revealing mental and spiritual traits
which the true novelist must possess in order to gain our in-
terest. Neither is there that attention to technique which is

128 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

needed to give life to the author's work and lift it above the
appearance of a gauze transparency. Its merit is the negative
one of freedom from evil suggestion.

A group of tales and sketches called An Isle in the Water*
by Katharine Tynan (Mrs. H. A. Hinkson), purports to give
pictures of the life of the peasantry on Achill Island, on the
west coast of Ireland. The stories are very unequal in merit
and varied in character. As literary work they are good ; as
pictures of the Irish peasantry of the seaboard on the main-
land they might pass, but for those of the islands they are not
very faithful. On the islands of Achill and Arran the peasant-
ry differ a good deal from those of the mainland. They are
more self-reliant, more hardy, and while not more devout, their
devotion is intensified by their ofttimes terrible isolation. As
for morality, these people are the acme of it. Connaught stands
at the head of the list in this regard, in a most exemplary
country, and the islands are the very pearl of Connaught.
Only one serious crime of any kind has been m recorded of
Achill — and that lately — for well-nigh half a century. Yet
although Mrs. Hinkson gives full credit to the people for their
high ideals, she leaves the distinct impression, by the themes
she has selected for a few of her stories, that the exceptions
to the pure rule of life on Achill are or were more numerous
than one would expect. No doubt she treats the subject sym-
pathetically, but it is not the less true that she displays a
feminine knack of choosing themes that had much better be
left alone. One of these stories, indeed, shocks beyond a good
many things we have found it necessary to condemn — the case
of a mother proclaiming her own shame and her daughter's
illegitimacy for the vile purpose merely of preventing her child's
happiness in her choice of a husband. The story is against all
the experience of nature, and could not be true except of a
lunatic. The plea of dramatic exigency is no excuse for unna-
tural straining of this kind.

It is not long since a woful disaster occurred off Achill.
Through a fierce tempest the ferry-boat was conveying to the
mainland a large number of poor peasantry, boys and girls, who
were on their way to Scotland to earn money for their parents
wherewith to pay the rent, when the boat capsized and about
thirty or forty were drowned. At the inquest held on some of
the hapless victims it came out how exemplary was the life

* An Isle in the Water. By Katharine Tynan (Mrs. H. A. Hinkson). New York : Mac-
millan & Co.; London : Adam & Charles Black.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 129

always led by these humble toilers, and with what stainless
souls they were suddenly summoned to the judgment seat.
And the worth and nobility of the poor Arran people is all the
more vividly illustrated in the fact that their abode has for
many years been the scene of the most determined efforts on
the part of a sordid souper agency to win them from their
ancient faith by the bribes of money, food, and raiment. This
attempt on the part of what are called the Irish Church Mis-
sions has been an utter failure.

If Mrs. Hinkson had turned her versatile pen to the depic-
tion of some of the incidents which have marked the soupers'
campaign since their settlement in Achill in the famine years,
she would have legitimate subject for satire and sympathy.
But probably this would not find so ready a market as the
subjects under notice.

Two excellent little gift-books for children have just been
published by Miss Eleanor C. Donnelly. They bear the respec-
tive titles of The Lost Christmas Tree and Amy's Music Box*
But each' contains a good many stories besides the title ones,
all told in a pleasant, simple way, easily read and easily under-
stood. Yet their simplicity does not prevent them from being
downright good stories, full of live interest and the sort of
things which children love to read about. Therefore they ought
to get a warm welcome from all the friends of our Catholic
young people.

I. — THEOLOGY AND THE END OF BEING.f

The last decade has been prolific in Text Books of Philoso-
phy and Theology. It is not easy to see the utility of contin-
ually bringing out new works of this kind unless the preceding
ones have been found defective, and the latter ones are so much
better that they are likely to be found satisfactory and to su-
persede their predecessors. We are not aware that this is the
case, and if nothing more is done except to multiply text-books,
excellent in themselves but substantially alike, what has been
gained ?

So far as the cursory examination which is all we have been
able to give to the work before us can warrant a judgment, we

* The Lost Christmas Tree, Amy's Music Box. By Eleanor C. Donnelly. Philadelphia :
H. L. Kilner & Co.

t Institutiones Theologica in Usum Scholar um. Auctore G. Bernardo Tepe, S.J. 3 vols.
Paris : Lethielleux, 10 Rue Casette.

VOL. LXIII. — 9

130 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

consider it to be worthy to rank with the best of its kind. We
do not as yet see that it is better, that it has original and pe-
culiar merit, or advances the science of Theology.

As a specimen of the whole work, we have examined with
some little care the author's manner of treating the Super-
natural Order and the questions depending on it. This depart-
ment of theology is of vital importance. The perverted, exag-
gerated supernaturalism of one class of heretics, and the exag-
gerated naturalism of another class, cannot be successfully re-
futed without the clearest apprehension and explanation of the
real relation between the two orders. Father Tepe states his
doctrine with great distinctness and defends it with solid argu-
ments. His fundamental principle is that the elevation of
rational beings to a destination terminating in the beatific vis-
ion is above all nature which has been or possibly could be
created. As a corollary from this, there is no exigency or de-
sire in any created nature for anything beyond the perfection
and felicity of the state of pure nature.

Original sin is the privation of supernatural grace, and its
penalty privation of supernatural beatitude. It does not, con-
sequently, involve any privation or negation of any good within
the exigency and capacity of pure nature.

Such theology as this makes the rational defence of Catholic
dogma easy. Our author is therefore worthy of praise and
thanks for having made an exposition of it so explicit, clear,
and conclusive.

2. — EVOLUTION AND DOGMA.*

Dr. Zahm has collected lectures delivered at the Summer-
Schools of Madison and Plattsburgh and the Winter-School of
New Orleans, which with some additions and improvements he
has published in a neat, well-printed volume, together with sev-
eral chapters of new matter.

This volume treats of three closely allied topics : the first
embracing a history of the evolutionary theory ; the second, a
discussion of the arguments for and against said theory ; the
third, the relations between evolution and Christian dogma.

This and the other works of Dr. Zahm place him on a level
of equality with the Abbe Saint Projet and our best writers in
Apologetics. The modern advocates of materialism, monism,

* Evolution and Dogma. By the Rev. J. A. Zahm, Ph.D., C.S.C., Professor of Physics
in the University of Notre Dame, author of " Sound and Music," " Bible, Science and Faith,"
"Catholic Science and Catholic Scientists," etc. Chicago : D. H. McClurg.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 131

pantheism, and agnosticism shelter themselves behind the popu-
lar theory of evolution in their attacks on religion. They call
their infidel assumptions science, and present to Christians the
alternative of renouncing faith or abjuring reason and science.
Hence Apologetics must undertake as one of its special tasks
the defence of Christianity on this side.

Evolution, in a general sense, means transition from the ho-
mogeneous and indeterminate state to the heterogeneous and
determinate, by a series of differentiations and integrations. The
theory called by the name of the nebular hypothesis is the
theory of the primary evolution of the worlds in space from
the original, chaotic fire-mist. In this most genera) sense, evo-
lution is a very old and a .very widely accepted doctrine. It
does not appear to have anything to do with faith, until it be-
comes developed into specific forms and surrounded by corre-
lated theories, in cosmogony, biology, and anthropology, so that
questions arise in which faith and science are mutually inter-
ested. In questions of this kind, it is of the greatest importance
to obtain a clear understanding and make a just and reasonable
exposition of the relations which connect these two great ave-
nues to knowledge with each other, and to decide controversies
which may arise between theologians and scientists. In the
discussions which have arisen, certain theologians have been
very distrustful of what they have regarded as undue and dan-
gerous concessions to scientific theories — on the part of Chris-
tian apologists. There are disputes about the boundary lines
dividing the domains of Catholic doctrine from the open terri-
tory of free opinion. One of these disputes has arisen within
the last twenty-five years respecting the theory of evolution, i. e.,
more precisely, the theory of transformism. When Dr. Mivart
published his work, The Genesis of Species, it was vehemently
attacked, and strenuous though unsuccessful efforts were made
to have it put on the Index. At the present time, it is quite
generally admitted that the theory is compatible with orthodoxy.
More than this, it is advocated as a probable theory by a
number of Catholic writers, and at the Catholic Scientific
Congress it appeared to find more favor than the opposite
doctrine.

Dr. Zahm has made a very clear and fair statement of the
case, with the arguments pro and con. He personally adheres
to the side favoring the theory. Nevertheless, it seems to us
that he has presented the arguments on the other side without
any adequate refutation. At the utmost, what M. Dupont said

132 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

at the Congress of Brussels is the correct account of the pres-
ent state of the case :

" L'hypothese suppliant d'ailleurs a I'insufficance des faits,
la nouvelle £cole a donn£ a la doctrine de Darwin une portee
universelle. On a nomme cette doctrine : 1'evolution. C'est
encore une hypothese et rien de plus."

So far as general biology is concerned, the hypothesis of
transformism may be regarded as within the free domain of
opinion and discussion. But when it is brought into anthro-
pology, the case is changed. The hypothesis of a purely
animal origin and descent of man is plainly and diametrically
contrary to rational philosophy and the Christian Faith. It may
be here remarked that the anti-Christian and atheistical forms
of the theory of evolution have been refuted by Dr. Mivart
with an ability and conclusiveness of reasoning never surpassed
and seldom equalled by our best Catholic writers. He has dis-
tinctly and explicitly maintained the Catholic doctrine of the
immediate creation of the rational soul of man. He does, how-
ever, propose as a probable hypothesis the Simian origin of the
human body. It is a very serious question whether the im-
mediate creation of the body as well as the soul of the first
man is de fide. Father Tepe, S.J., one of the latest and ablest
authors of a Systematic Theology, says : " Videtur esse de fide"
and many, though not all, theologians agree with him. Among
those who disagree, the name which has the highest authority is
that of Cardinal Gonzalez. His Eminence, as quoted by Dr.
Zahm, (p. 361) writes :

" As the question stands at present, we have no right to
reprobate or reject, as contrary to Christian faith, or as contrary
to revealed truth, the hypothesis of Mivart. I should not permit
myself to censure the opinion of the English theologian so long
as it is respected, or at least tolerated, by the church, the sole
judge competent to fix and qualify theologico-dogmatic proposi-
tions, and decide regarding their compatibility or incompatibility
with Holy Scripture."

It is certain that up to the present time the Holy See has
abstained from pronouncing any judgment on this question. It
may therefore be discussed as a question in biology, and also
in the interpretation of Scripture. This is all that Dr. Zahm
has claimed, and his chief object throughout his entire work
has been to protect the minds of Catholics from bewilderment
and perplexity in respect to the Faith.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 133

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

rPHE Catholic Winter-School began at New Orleans, La., under the most favor-
J_ able conditions. On Sunday, February 16, at the cathedral, the opening
exercises took place, in the form of one of the most imposing religious observances
ever seen in the South. A procession, in which all the church dignitaries present
took part, marched from the residence of Archbishop Janssens to the church.
The Louisiana Field Artillery served as an escort.

On arriving at the cathedral the artillery formed a double line in the centre
aisle, extending from the altar rail to the door. Through this defile the ecclesias-
tics moved to the chancel. The cathedral was filled to its utmost capacity by a
large and distinguished congregation. Among those present were : Governor M.
J. Foster ; Mayor Fitzpatrick ; Judges Pardee, Parlange, King, and Moise ; Nicanor
Lopez Chacon, Spanish Consul, and his chancellor, both of whom appeared in full
diplomatic uniform ; Miguel de Zamora, Mexican Consul ; Colonel Lamar C.
Quintero, Consul-General of Costa Rica ; Major Ramsey, U. S. A. ; Judge Fergu-
son, and many others.

The Solemn Pontifical Mass, by Cardinal Satolli, began at 11:15 A. M., at
which hour a salute of three guns was fired by a detachment of the artillery. The
guns were on the levee, at some distance from the cathedral. Cardinal Gibbons
preached a sermon on Faith, Hope, and Charity, the three virtues, he said, which
are the Alpha and Omega of Christianity. He invoked God's blessing on the
Catholic Winter-School, which has been inaugurated under the learned and wise
and prudent Archbishop of New Orleans, that it may conduce to a better know-
ledge of Christ's revelations, and inspire a stronger spirit of patriotism and love of
country, and foster a spirit of good will and harmony for the greater glory of God,
that the admonitions given to the Apostle of the Gentiles might be fulfilled and
that love and faith in God might be increased.

At the conclusion of the Mass Archbishop Janssens made a brief address,
thanking the distinguished churchmen, the State and city officials and laymen
who had lent lustre to the magnificent ceremony, and the Louisiana Field Artil-
lery for their services.

At the Elevation of the Mass a salute of three guns was fired from the levee
by the artillery. The same salute was repeated at the close of the Mass.

Cardinals Satolli and Gibbons were tendered a reception at the home of the
eminent New Orleans lawyer, Judge Thomas J. Semmes. More than five hundred
invited guests shook hands with them. The parlor was fittingly decorated in the
cardinal color of crimson, and the mantel-piece bore the colors of the cardinal and
bishop, crimson and purple, in a beautiful array of poppies and sweet violets.
Notable among the prominent churchmen present, in addition to the two car-
dinals, were Archbishop Janssens ; Father Mullaney, of Syracuse, N. Y., the pro-
jector of the Catholic Winter-School ; Father Nugent, its chief promoter ; Father
Sempel, S.J., Superior of the Society of Jesus ; Archbishop Elder ; Bishops Heslin,
of Natchez ; McCloskey, of Louisville ; Gabriels, of Ogdensburg, N. Y. ; Meeschart,
of Indian Territory; and Van der Vyver, of Richmond.

The management of the Catholic Winter-School is under the direction of the

134 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aprilr

Most Rev. Francis Janssens, D.D., Honorary President; the Board of Directors
of the Society of the Holy Spirit, Frank McGloin, President ; A. J. Doize, Secre-
tary ; George W. Young, Treasurer ; J. D. Coleman, Thomas G. Rapier.-
Auxiliary Board: Very Rev. F. V. Nugent, CM., Very Rev. J. H. Blenk, S.M.,.
Rev. E. J. Fallon, Rev. J. F. Lambert; I. H. Stauffer, Chairman; Professor
Alcee Fortier, Vice-Chairman ; A. H. Flemming, Secretary; W. G. Vincent, John
T. Gibbons, J. W. Bostick, J. J. McLoughlin, John W. Fairfax, Charles A. Fricke,-
Hugh McCloskey, H. G. Morgan, J. P. Baldwin, A. R. Brousseau, Paul Capde-
vielle, Benjamin Crump, Otto Thoman, A. G. Winterhalder, W. P. Burke, J. N.
Roussel, F. J. Puig, B. W. Bowling.

The Catholic Winter-School, in session in Tulane Hall, devoted its pro-
gramme of the evening of February 22 to the celebration of Washington's
Birthday. At eight o'clock the seats on the lower floor of the hall were filled, and
the people began going into the gallery. It was an intellectual audience rarely
seen gathered from all the professions of life, with a lively sprinkle here and there
of the Catholic clergy. The attendance marked the climax in the door receipts
of the Winter-School, and was a deserving honor paid his Eminence Cardinal
Gibbons, who was the centre of the evening's programme. The good old-
fashioned kind of American patriotism ran high, and again and again during the
evening the entire audience broke into rounds of applause that would do honor to-
a Fourth of July meeting. The opening musical selection was Hail Columbia,
and the audience joined in the chorus.

Cardinal Gibbons was greeted with tremendous applause. When it subsided!
Cardinal Gibbons began his address, from which some brief extracts are here-
given :

The object of the Winter-School, as I understand it, is to diffuse the light of
Christian knowledge and the warmth of Christian charity among the people of
New Orleans. The purpose is to bring together representative men of the dergy
and laity that they may discuss in a friendly and familiar manner some of the
leading religious, moral, social, scientific, and economic questions of the dary. Its
purpose, in a word, is to make us better ^Christians and better citizens. And what
day could be more appropriately selected for the inauguration of these exercises
consecrated to religion and patriotism than this day when we commemorate the
birth of our immortal Washington, the Father of his Country ?

The inaugural address of Washington to both Houses of Congress is per-
vaded by profound religious sentiments. He recognizes with humble gratitude
the hand of Providence in the formation of the government, and he fervently
invokes the unfailing benediction of Heaven on the nation and its rulers.

There is one fact which is overlooked or rarely mentioned, and that is, the con-
spicuous part that was taken by learned laymen in defence of the Christian religion
in the primitive days of the church. I might mention among others Justia
Martyr ; St. Prosper, Arnobius ; Lactantius, called the Christian Cicero ; Origen
and Jerome. Some of these learned men had written eloquent apologies before
they were raised to the priesthood. The others remained laymen all their lives.
In later years, Sir Thomas More, in England ; Montalembert, Chateaubriand and
the Count de Maistre, in France, and Brownson, in the United States, have
abundantly shown how well the Christian religion may be vindicated by the pen
of laymen.

Thank God, there are not a few laymen in our country to-day — nay, there are
some this moment within this very hall, whom I could name if I did not fear to,.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 135

offend their modesty — who are aiding the cause of religion and humanity by their
voice and by their pen. Some forty-five years ago in this city I listened to an ex-
cellent lecture from a distinguished Catholic layman. His subject, I think, was
the Relation of the Catholic Church to Civil and Religious Liberty. r remember
how my young heart thrilled with emotion on listening to his eloquent vindication.
I refer to Thomas J. Semmes, of this city.

The merchant in the early church was a travelling missioner. Together with
his wares he brought a knowledge of Christ to the houses which he entered. The
soldier preached Christ in the camp ; the captive slave preached him in the mines.
The believing wife made known the Gospel to her unbelieving husband, and the
believing husband to his unbelieving wife ; and thus as all nature silently pro-
claims the existence and glory of God, so did all Christians unite in proclaiming
the name of the Saviour of the world.

Permit me now, gentlemen, to draw one or two practical reflections from
what I have said. If the Apostles, with all their piety, zeal, and grace, could not
have accomplished what they did without the aid of the primitive Christians, how
can we ministers of the Gospel, who cannot lay claim to their piety or zeal or grace
' — how can we hope to spread the light of the Gospel without the co-operation of
the laity ? The aim of the Winter-School is to break down any artificial and un-
natural barriers that would separate the sanctuary from the nave, to bring the
clergy and the people into closer and more harmonious relations, so that they
may work together in the cause of religion and humanity. Wherever this co-
operation is found the church is sure to flourish.

And why should not the clergy and people co-operate ? Are we not children
of the same God, brothers and sisters of the same Christ, sons and daughters of
the same mother ? There are diversities of grace, but the same spirit ; there
are diversities of ministrations, but the same Lord ; there are diversities of
operations, but the same God who worketh all in all. We are all in the
same bark of Peter, tossed by the same storms of adversity, steering toward
the same eternal shores, and prospective citizens of the same celestial king-
dom. We all have one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of
all. How are you to co-operate ? By the open and manly profession of your
faith ; by being always ready to satisfy every one that asketh you, a reason of that
hope that is in you. While you will accord to those who differ from you the right
of expressing and maintaining their religious opinions, you must claim the same
privilege for yourselves. You ask nothing more — you will be content with nothing
less. And surely if there is anything of which you ought to feel justly proud it is
this, that you are members of the religion of Christ. The proudest title of the
Roman was to be called a Roman citizen, a title which St. Paul claimed and vin-
dicated when he was threatened with the ignominious punishment of scourging.

When the Apostle declared that he was a Roman citizen, the tribune replied
to him, saying : " I am also a Roman citizen. I purchased the title with a large
sum." And I, responded Paul, am a Roman citizen by reason of my birth. This
is my birthright. There are some foreigners in the land who would wish to op-
press us like Paul, though we were born to citizenship, and though many of our
fathers exercised the same honorable title before us. The highest civic title that
we can claim is to be called an American citizen. Our Republic has already en-
tered on the second century of her existence, and though but a child in years in
comparison with other nations, she is a giant in strength. She is strong in the
number, the intelligence, and the patriotism of her people. Our Republic covers a

136 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April,

vast territory, extending from ocean to ocean, from the St. Lawrence to the Rio
Grande, and bids fair to enlarge her domain by peaceful and legitimate means.
Our Republic is conspicuous for the wisdom of her statesmen and the valor of
her soldiers.

If the Apostles enjoined on the Christians of their time the duty of honoring
the civil magistrates, and of obeying the laws of the empire, though these laws
often inflicted pain and penalties on the Christians themselves, with what alacrity
should we not observe the laws of our country, in the framing of which we have
a share, and which are enacted for our own peace, security, and temporal happi-

ness

The Right Rev. John J. Keane, D.D., took a very active part in the session of
the Winter-School, not only by preaching but also by giving a course of lectures.
His opinion on the educational movement which becomes manifest in summer and
winter meetings was thus reported :

We live in a great and wonderful age, and in the midst of the transformations
of many kinds that are taking place in the civilized world neither the uneducated
nor the irreligious mind can be of help. Large and tolerant views are necessary ;
but not less so are the enthusiasm, the earnestness, the charity of Christian faith.
Those who would be leaders in the great movement upon which we have entered
must know and believe ; must understand the age, must sympathize with what-
ever is true and beneficent in its aspirations ; must hail with thankfulness whatever
help science and art and culture can bring ; but they must know and feel, also,
that man is of the race of God, and that his real and true life is the unseen, infinite,
and eternal world of thought and love, into which the actual world of the senses
must be brought in ever-increasing harmony. Never before have questions so
vast, so complex, so fraught with the promise of good, so pregnant with mean-
ing, presented themselves ; the whole nation is awakened ; there is quickening of
intellectual thought everywhere ; thousands are able to discuss any subject with
plausibility ; as a great observer says, " To be simply keen-witted and versatile is
to be of the crowd." We need men whose intellectual view embraces the history
of the race ; who are familiar with all literature, who have been close students of
all social movements, who are acquainted with the development of philosophic
thought, who are not blinded by physical miracles and industrial wonders, but who
know how to appreciate all truth, all beauty, all goodness, and who join to this
wide culture the motive which Christian faith inspires ; in a word, the great educa-
tional problem is how to bring philosophy and religion to the aid of science and
the will, so that the better self shall prevail, and each generation introduce its suc-
cessor to a higher plane of life. These problems are engaging the profoundest
attention of teachers and educators ; never before has knowledge been so widely
diffused ; never before have such efforts been put forward ; and in these great
educational movements the Catholic Church cannot afford to be a follower ; she
must lead. It is the purpose of our Catholic University to make her hold this
leadership.

We must keep pace with the onward movement of mind, for knowledge is in-
creasing even more rapidly than population and wealth. The Catholic Church
must stand in the front ranks of those who know. Her cry must be, " Let knowl-
edge grow ; let truth prevail." The investigator, the thinker, the man of genius,
and the man of culture must know that to seek to attain truth is to seek to know
God ; that science and philosophy and morality need religion as much as thought
and action require emotion : and that beyond the utmost reach of the human mind

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 137

lies God, and the boundless worlds of mystery where the soul must believe and
adore what it can but dimly discern.

A very remarkable address, based on the experience of a busy life, was given
at the Winter-School by Monsignor Nugent, of Liverpool. His philanthropic
work enabled him to give some good reasons why the Catholic Church believes so
strongly in the benefits of early training. Thirty years ago he was appointed
Catholic chaplain in the Liverpool prisons. He was early led to inquire what led
the waifs of the city into crime. He met a young man of twenty-one, who had
been twice transported, whom he asked this question. The man answered that it
was neglected childhood. " Father Nugent," he added, " you waste your time on
>us old ones ; it's the kids y' ought to keep straight. Keep them from crime till
they're sixteen, and then they won't go wrong." Monsignor Nugent pointed
•out the vast numbers of children under sixteen who lived in the streets of English
cities. In London there were over 100,000, and in Liverpool, in 1868, 28,772 who
were living in that atmosphere of crime. He did not believe them inherently
vicious, but insisted that the absence of parental love and care, the grinding de-
mands of poverty, and the constant sight of prosperous crime and starving virtue,
were the principal means of their corruption. He said that among these street
gamins were many possessing talent and genius. He spoke of boys whom he
had rescued from the incipiency of a criminal career. He described a girl who
at eighteen was believed to be incurably vicious. She then could not read or
write. He educated and reformed her, sent her to Canada, and she is now a
happy and honored member of the community, a nurse in the hospitals. He had
found that in caring for the waifs an industrial room, where trades were taught
the boys, was an excellent thing. He had been for some years successfully con-
ducting one in Liverpool, in which daily over two hundred boys received instruc-
tion.

The lectures on Social Problems by the Rev. Morgan M. Sheedy, of Altoona,
Pa., were largely attended at the Winter-School.

He said that the labor question is a modern, concrete expression, used to
represent the demands which the employed may make of employers. It belongs
entirely to the present system of industry, and is to be understood only from a full
•consideration of industrial conditions. In the middle of this century it simply
stood for the demand for less hours or more pay. To-day it stands for all the
elements involved in the industrial system. It is a short term for the evolution of
industrial forces, and includes a wide range of sociological studies. The question
embraces both economics and ethics, and must be discussed on a broad and com-
prehensive basis. The labor question and social science are to-day nearly synony-
mous terms. The broadened intelligence of the wage-earners has enlarged their
demands to such an extent as to affect the whole body politic. Under the feudal
system the physical wants of the laborer were cared for by the feudal lord ; under
the present wage system he is left to care for himself.

The labor question, as such, has nothing to do with anarchy, or with socialism,
although these take on many of the phases of the labor question, and in the
minds of some there is a general confusion of ideas connecting the one with the
other. The working-men of the United States have no occasion to be anarchists
or socialists, although were all their demands conceded our form of government
would be placed on a socialistic basis. The conflict between those who have and
those who wish to have is irrepressible ; yet it is agreed that if the two could work
in harmony the result would vastly increase the general welfare. The interests of

138 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April,.

labor and capital are identical, and to secure the highest results both should work
in harmony. To effect a satisfactory adjustment of differences, that is the great
problem of this age. It taxes the best minds of every nation of Europe and
America. Every one wants the suicidal war that rages to end. Seventy-two per
cent, of the strikes and lockouts are due to differences about the rate of wages.
Apart from this all other causes of trouble may be grouped under three general
classes: (a) Differences as to future contracts. (t>) Disagreements as to existing,
contracts, (c) Disputes on some matter of sentiment.

It was shown that the principle of supply and demand that governs the
modern industrial world is false and unjust. Wages should not be based on the
bread-and-water theory, but should be such as to enable the wage-earner to
maintain himself and his family in " frugal comfort." The laborer is not a piece
of machinery, nor is he a mere animal ; he is an intelligent being with God-given
faculties that must be respected. Statistics were cited to show the difficulty of
living under the low rates of wages certain classes of working-men receive.

The position of the church on labor organizations was set forth. Working-men
should guard against designing, unscrupulous agitators. The wicked counsels of
selfish leaders have brought great misery to working-men. Unjust and tyrannical
measures must not be adopted even to right labor's wrongs. Wage-earners should
have the fullest liberty, to organize for self-help and protection.

As long as the present wage-system prevails the most effective method of
settling labor disputes is conciliation and conference. If this fails, arbitration.
Strikes are no remedy. All the worst enemies of law and order are not in the
tents of the strikers. Father Sheedy said, with some warmth, that " the high-
handed outrages that have been perpetrated by some of the men who find shelter
in the entrenched camp of corporate monopoly are more detrimental to the public
peace and welfare than all the threats of the extreme socialists and all the crazy
performances in the name of anarchy. It is the business of the state to assert its
authority and to bring both sets of disturbers into subordination."

The condition of working-women and girls was next dwelt upon. Until quite
recently no thought was given to this large and deserving class of wage-earners.
Their physical and moral condition was endangered. He characterized the sweat-
ing system as the worst form of industrial slavery, whose cruelties and oppressions
make those of chattel slavery seem merciful in comparison. We blush for our
civilization when confronted with the horrors of this monstrous system. The
work done in the sweating dens is mostly confined to women and children. It is
the cheaper grade of needle-work, and is carried on under the worst sanitary sur-
roundings.

The lecturer concluded by saying that the highest type of civilization is not
that which produces the greatest men or the largest number of inventions or the
greatest wealth, but that which secures the true elevation of the greatest number ;
that which protects the weak ; that which provides for the well-being and comfort
of the people as a whole. It is part of the mission of the church to teach rich and
poor, capitalist and wage-earner, employer and employed, the eternal principles of
right and justice. When the modern industrial world accepts her teaching, then
we shall be nearer a solution of the labor problem than we are at present.
* * *

Among the distinguished lecturers who appeared at New Orleans we find
many names familiar to the patrons of the Summer-Schools at Lake Champlain,
N. Y., and at Madison, Wis. We are also well aware that nearly all the lectures

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 139

approved for the Catholic Summer-Schools have been eagerly sought for in many
localities. The managers whose untiring efforts brought success to the Winter-
School will not hesitate to acknowledge their indebtedness to the Summer-
Schools ; they have made, in fact, an extension of the same work to a new place.
Within a short time there may be a very unexpected development on this line of
extending the influence of our leading thinkers over a wide area of territory.
Wherever there is an intellectual centre the exponent of true culture, and of sound
learning in art, literature, history, or science, should find an appreciative audience.
The intelligent citizens will soon realize the advantages of taking the initiative to
provide intellectual attractions in places having great natural attractions as sum-
mer or winter resorts.

* * *

A movement was begun last year to secure " Annual Literary Festivals " at
Saratoga Springs, N. Y. The official circular contained this announcement : " Sara-
toga tenders her citizens and summer guests a month of morning talks upon timely
themes by able and popular speakers." Admission to these lectures was secured
by complimentary tickets distributed by the village pastors, the proprietors of
hotels and boarding-houses, and members of the Young Men's Christian Associa-
tion. Prominent attention was given to American Historical Societies rendering
high service to the Republic by the rescue of its records from oblivion and decay.
The avowed object of this new movement was " to prove that good society and
abundant capital will flow at once in old-time tide to Saratoga — the national spa
— now that its permanent purpose is assured, to maintain whatever things are
honest, lovely, and of good report." As thoroughly in accord with this aim for
the advancement of Saratoga Springs to prominence as a cosmopolitan pleasure
resort of beneficial entertainment, excluding everything injurious, a list of signa-
tures was obtained representing a wide range of intellectual pursuits and the lead-
ing cities of New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island,
Connecticut, and South Carolina.

* * *

In English Literature, for High Schools, Academies, and Colleges, by the
Brothers of the Christian Schools, edited by Brother Noah, the members of Catho-
lic Reading Circles will find a volume of more than usual utility. THE CATHOLIC
WORLD for February mentions specifically that Brother Noah has succeeded in
giving a presentation of English literature from a basis which, in its directness
and originality, gives the volume more than ordinary claims upon the intelligent,
systematic student of the history of our tongue. Foremost among its many char-
acteristics this English Literature presents a course of mental drill that must pro-
duce excellent results. Not only does the author suggest what to read as a de-
velopment of the text, but in many cases the special object to be attained in the
reading of certain authors is mentioned. Thus, if Shakspere is under discussion,
" Suggested Readings " tell the student what book to consult for the historical
basis of the great play-wright's creations, or what easily obtained volume may
best be read to appreciate the writer's character studies, his sources of informa-
tion, previous writings from which borrowings are made, etc. Still another excel-
lent feature, Brother Noah cites certain text-books, not difficult to procure, that
also make valuable suggestions as to what works this particular author has found
of service in reaching his own appreciations. Thus, for instance, in Cleveland's
two volumes there is a wealth of reference to magazine articles from the ablest
critics who have made special studies of certain authors. In every case, the stu-

NEW BOOKS. [April, 1896.

. -dent will find that these suggested readings are not only mentioned, but, as pre-
viously remarked, the particular lesson sought to be conveyed, or the special value
of the suggested work, is mentioned. In this way any student who has some one
point of view upon which he desires reliable and ready direction and information
finds his wish catered to by the line of thought brought to light in the Brother's
list of authors.

A little companion volume, fittingly named Suggestions, accompanies the
English Literature, answering many of the " between-the-lines " points made
by the author in his comprehensive reviews. In this little volume of less than
•one hundred pages the essential features of most of the Suggested Readings are
given from the original text. Thus, if a dozen or more works are cited in Sug-
gested Readings, the teacher who has not the time, nor perhaps the volumes ready
to hand, finds the whole matter within reach in this handy companion volume.
While pupils are not supposed to have this little book at their command as freely
as in the case of teachers, there is no reason why, if pressed for time or unable
easily to procure some of the suggested volumes in the local libraries, they may,
at little expense, procure this willing helper to make light the intelligent prepara-
tion of each day's lesson, or the development of any particular theme in a well-
digested original composition. In this last feature the suggestions of the learned
editor cannot be too earnestly recommended to earnest students.

We would like to urge Brother Noah to prepare a volume on American Liter-
ature. Thus far we have been unable to find in the books dealing with that sub-
ject fair consideration of our Catholic writers. The Columbian Reading Union

"has on two occasions sent a protest to a prominent publishing house, which sent
forth a list of nineteenth-century authors with the name of Cardinal Newman
omitted, and among celebrated American authors gave no mention of Brownson

• or Brother Azarias.

M. C. M.

NEW BOOKS.

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York:

The Jewish Scriptures. By Amos Kidder Fiske. A Lady of Quality. By

Frances Hodgson Burnett.
•CHRISTIAN PRESS ASSOCIATION PUBLISHING Co., New York:

The Religions of the World, By Rev. James L. Meagher.
B. HERDER, St. Louis:

The Catholic Child's Letter*- Writer. Compiled by the Sisters of St. Joseph.

Third edition.
JOHN MURPHY & Co., Baltimore:

The Office of Holy Week. From the Italian of Abbe Alexander Mazzinelli.
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York :

The Following of Christ. By Thomas a Kempis.
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., Boston and New York:

Moral Evolution. By George Harris, Professor in Andover Theological
Seminary.

CATHOLIC BOOK EXCHANGE, San Francisco :

The Religion of a Traveller. By Cardinal Manning.

His EMINENCE CARDINAL SEMBRATOWICZ,

Archbtshop of Lemberg.
The new Ruthenian Cardinal.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIII.

MAY, 1896.

No. 374.

THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL.

BY B. J. CLINCH.

HE Sovereign Pontiff at the last
consistory created a large number
of cardinals, and among these special
interest attaches to Monseigneur
Sembratowicz, the Archbishop of
Lemberg, in Austrian Poland.
Though of course a Catholic in
the fullest sense, Monseigneur Sem-
bratowicz is not a Latin but a
Ruthenian prelate, and Primate of
the Ruthenian Rite, which once in-
cluded the whole Russian people
in its fold. Lemberg enjoys the
distinction of having no less than

three archbishops of different rites, but all united in Catholic
faith and exercising their functions in harmonious indepen-
dence within the same metes and bounds. In raising the
Ruthenian primate to the highest dignity of the church below
his own, Leo XIII. continues the policy adopted at the begin-
ning of his reign of making the College of Cardinals a repre-
sentative body for the whole church of every land and every
rite. He has already bestowed the same rank on Monseig-
neur Hassoun, the Patriarch of the United Armenians and
their brave defender against the persecution of the Turkish
government. Though there was a Ruthenian cardinal some
fifty years ago, we have fro go back over four centuries to find

142 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

two non-Latin members of the Sacred College created by the
same pontiff. At the reunion of the Greeks of Constantinople
in the Council of Florence the eminent theologian and scholar
Bessarion, as representative of the Greeks, and the Bulgarian
Isidor, the Metropolitan of Moscow and Kieff, were made car-
dinals of the Roman Church. In bestowing the same dignity
on Monseigneur Sembratowicz and Monseigneur Hassoun Leo
XIII. renews the tradition of the union of Christendom of the
Florentine Council, and seeks to give a distinctly representa-
tive character to the Great Council of the church.

SMALL PROPORTION OF NON-LATIN CATHOLICS.

To grasp the significance of these acts of the Sovereign
Pontiff we must recall the history of the church as well as the
present state of the Eastern Christians now separated from her
pale. The actual number of Catholics belonging to other rites
than the Latin and not using that language in the divine offices
is less than that of many comparatively small Catholic coun-
tries, such as Belgium. The United Armenians, the Maronites,
the Chaldeans, the Copts, the Greek Melchites, and the Syrians,
all have distinctive liturgies and rites and are governed by
patriarchs — a dignity of higher rank than archbishop or primate,
yet together they do not number a million of individuals. The
Ruthenians of Austria are, perhaps, double that number, and
those of Russian Poland, who once numbered eight millions, are
now forcibly separated from all communication with the Sover-
eign Pontiff as absolutely as were the fifty thousand Catholics
of Japan during the last two centuries. But though small in
actual numbers, each of these churches, with their separate
languages, customs, and traditions, is closely connected with
larger bodies of Christians separated from Catholic unity in the
past by national jealousies and political intrigues, rather than
by questions of belief or morals. An Armenian nation of sev-
eral millions, scattered through Turkey, Russia, Persia, and
Austria, follows the same forms of worship and uses the same
church language as the two hundred thousand who own the
authority of the pope. The whole Greek race, equally numer-
ous and divided as to its heads as much as in its, political
allegiance, holds a similar relation to the Greek Melchites.
The Syrians and Maronites are closely connected by language
and origin with the great Arabian race, which fills so large a
space in both Asia and Africa, and which is the mainstay of
Mohammedanism in both. The Chaldeans, though but the

1896.] THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. 143

shadow of a name which once filled the earth, are scattered
from Malabar to the frontiers of China. The few thousand
United Copts of Egypt retain the liturgy of St. Mark, which in
a slightly altered form and debased by barbarism is followed
by the whole population of Abyssinia, the one purely African
race which can be called Christian. The rite and church lan-
guage of the Ruthenian Uniats are used, though under a
£chismatical government, by seventy millions of subjects of the
Russian czar.

EARLY PREPONDERANCE OF THE EAST IN THE CHURCH.

Each of the various rites is thus at once an evidence to the
present day of the unbroken connection of the Catholic Church
with early Christianity, and a link of possible reunion with mil-
lions now separated from her communion. In numbers, in
wealth, and in intellectual development their followers form a
comparatively insignificant portion of the great Catholic body ;
but it was not always so. In the early days of Christianity,
while Rome was still the temporal mistress of the world, the
Catholics of the East formed as large a part of the church as
those of the West, and they gave her even more than their
proportion of saints and scholars. St. Basil and St. John
Chrysostom, Origen and St. Athanasius, St. Gregory and St.
Cyril, are among the foremost names in the history of Catho-
licity. The Creed of Nicaea and the Creed of Athanasius were
both first drawn up in the Greek language even in the days
of Rome's supreme dominion over East and West. Four cen-
turies later a Greek monk, Theodore, sent by the Roman
pontiff as a missionary to England, organized its hierarchy as
it remained till the days of Elizabeth. Cyril and Methodius,
two other Greek missionaries in the ninth century, won over
the pagans of the present Austria to Christianity. That the
Christian peoples of Western Europe have since grown to such
dimensions while those of the eastern half of the Roman Em-
pire have dwindled to material insignificance under the blight
of Byzantine schism and Mohammedan conquest does not imply
that the latter may not yet be called to play a great part in
the Christian development of the world. In the mind, alike
Christian and statesmanlike, of the reigning Pontiff, the cause
of the church will be better served by reviving the former
spirit of the Eastern Christians than by attempting to remodel
their rites on the same plan as the church in the western
world. Unity in things essential, as faith and morals, with free-
dom in things accidental, as national languages and rites, is the

144 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

policy of the church as laid down most clearly by its present
head. The help extended to the struggling communities of the
Eastern churches and the protection given to their national
usages are parts of this policy, and it is in accordance with it
that the Ruthenian primate now is a member of the College of
Cardinals.

TEMPORA MUTANTUR.

•

To understand the difference between a " rite " and a
" national church," or the powers of a " patriarch " and those
of an archbishop or " primate " in the Catholic Church to-
day, it is necessary to go back to the foundation of Christian-
ity. The political condition of the world at the birth of our
Saviour was widely different from what it is at present. In
the modern world a common civilization, which may be called
European or Christian, is shared by numerous nations differing
in language, in laws, and in religion, and wholly independent of
one another in their government. At the birth of Christianity
the whole civilized world, as we now apply the term, was welded
into the body of the Roman state. The races outside the
Roman boundaries in Europe or Africa were like our own
Indian tribes a few years ago or the Zulu warriors of Cetewayo.
Persia and India on the east were as foreign to the subjects of
Rome in language and jinanners as the Chinese to ourselves.
Within the Roman dominions, which encircled the Mediter-
ranean from Cadiz to the Euphrates, and from the Rhine and
Danube to the African deserts, there was only one nation and
one supreme law. Gaul and Spain and North Africa were all
merged in the nationality of Rome, obeyed her laws and spoke
her language. In the eastern half of the empire, however,
though Roman arms and Roman laws were supreme, Greek
language and manners still continued to prevail, and in an inferior
position the languages of old Egypt and Western Asia also
held their ground. Thus, if not nations, there were well marked
nationalities — Greek, Jewish, and Egyptian — within the eastern
part of the old Roman world when the Apostles began their
preaching on the first Whit-Sunday.

It is a special glory of Christianity that, while unchanging
in the doctrines it teaches, and the moral law it enforces, it
adapts its forms and its discipline to the conditions and dispo-
sitions of the various races of man. Thus, 'while the church
imposes the use of prayer and public worship, of the sacra-
ments and of penance on every human being, she changes at
need theTform of each to suit local peculiarities of Christian

1896.] THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. 145

populations. The difference in customs and language between
Jew and Gentile was provided for by separate systems of disci-
pline from the very beginning, and those systems were the first
" rites " of the Catholic Church. The Aramaic language was
used in public worship by the Jewish converts, and the Greek
by the first Christians drawn from the Gentile world. As the
church extended westward the Latin language was similarly
adopted wherever it was spoken, and in Egypt the native Cop-
tic, which held its place as the national tongue all through the
period of Roman domination. With the use of different lan-
guages various religious practices were closely associated.

SAMENESS IN DOCTRINE UNDER VARYING CONDITIONS.

Public fasts were a part of Catholic practice everywhere from
the beginning, but the fast of a Syrian or an Egyptian, accus-
tomed to vegetable food, was a very different thing from the
fast of a Greek or an Italian. Forms, too, of worship which
were familiar to Eastern practice might seem strange and tedious
in other lands. On the other hand, the Eastern churches per-
mitted married men to receive the priesthood, while in the
Western countries the obligation of celibacy on priests was re-
quired. To secure harmony in the church's administration the
various rites were defined in the fourth century by the Council
of Constantinople. The pope was not only recognized as su-
preme head of the whole church, but also as special patriarch
of the Latin-speaking portion of the Roman Empire. The
Archbishop of Constantinople, which since Constantine had be-
come a second capital, was declared patriarch of the Grecian
lands, while the patriarchs already existing in Alexandria and
Antioch were confirmed in their jurisdiction over the Syrian
and Egyptian populations respectively, whether using Greek or
other languages. It was an age of administrative classification
in the Roman world, and the church felt its influence as well
as the political world. In her classification, however, as became
a spiritual power, the divisions were made rather by races and
language than by geographical boundaries or extent of terri-
tory. The number of the former was greater in the eastern
than in the western half of the Roman Empire, hence, too, the
greater number of rites in the former. As Christianity extended
beyond the Roman boundaries in the East or in the West this
difference had a marked effect on the organization of the church.
The Armenians, the Abyssinians, and the southern Slavonians
were converted by missionaries from the Eastern Empire, and

146 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

they each received a distinctive liturgy and rite, to which, in
the case of the first, the dignity of a patriarch as head of the
national church was subsequently added. In the West the various
Celtic and Germanic nations received the language of Rome as
their church language, and while retaining their national usages
and government in political affairs they showed no desire for
special rites in the things of divine worship. There were, in-
deed, no well-defined nationalities in Western Europe for many
centuries after the downfall of the Western Empire. Kingdoms
and dynasties of every race, Frank, Gothic, Burgundian, Saxon,
and Norman states, were formed and broken up in rapid suc-
cession, while the languages and laws of each were in almost
an equal state of change. The best service the church could
give to the half-formed nations was to maintain her uniformity
both in doctrine and external discipline on a common standard,
and so the Latin language and discipline prevailed through
Western Europe. In the East the rise of Mohammedanism in
the seventh century not only arrested the extension of Chris-
tianity, but exterminated it in many lands where it had already
been established, as in Egypt and North Africa. The Eastern
Christians, isolated by Mohammedan conquest from their co-re-
ligionists, identified their distinctive rites all the more closely
both with their nationality and their faith itself. The posses-
sion of a national church and patriarch was regarded as a rem-
nant of national freedom even in political subjugation. Accord-
ingly the number of patriarchates was considerably multiplied
as the condition of the Christians grew worse under Saracen
and Turkish rule.

SLAVONIC LITERATURE BEGINS WITH THE LITURGY.

The Ruthenian rite, the primate of which has just been
raised to the College of Roman Cardinals, is the youngest dis-
tinctive national rite, but it also embraces the largest number
of followers, both in communion with the Roman See and in
schism. It was established in Bulgaria and Moravia, among
still pagan Slave tribes, by the Greek missioners, Sts. Cyril and
Methodius, in the ninth century. Its founders reduced the old
Slavonian tongue to writing, and composed a liturgy in that lan-
guage which was solemnly approved by Pope Nicholas. As was
to be expected, its discipline is modelled on that of the Greek
rather than the Latin portion of the church, and celibacy Is not
required of its priests if married previous to ordination.

Catholicity and the Latin rite had already been established

1896.] THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. 147

in Germany when St. Cyril formed the Ruthenian rite, and
Christianity was introduced among the Slaves of Eastern Europe
in the ninth century both from the North and from the South.
Latin missioners converted the Poles and Bohemians, while Ru-
thenian and Greek priests established Christianity and the Ruthe-
nian discipline among the Russians, whose territory at that time
was scarcely a tenth of its present extent in Europe. Russia
of the ninth century had its capital at Kieff, on the Dnieper,
on the frontier of Poland, as it was in the last century. The
whole of Northern Russia, including the site of Moscow, was
inhabited by Finnish or Tartar tribes, while the Russian Slaves
occupied the steppes along the' Dnieper and Dniester, as a
nation ruled by Scandinavian princes. Though the Ruthenians,
or Russians, had a distinct liturgy and church language of their
own, they had no patriarch, but were regarded as belonging to
the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople. From him,
and not directly from Rome, they received their bishops, and
especially their metropolitan, the Archbishop of Kieff, who was
the head of the church in Russia. In those days communica-
tion was difficult between Russia and Rome, while the course
of the Dnieper to the Black Sea gave easy access to Constan-
tinople, and it was natural, with its patriarch in due subor-
dination to the Holy See, that he should regulate the episco-
pate of Russia as by the ordinary discipline of the church he
regulated that of the subjects of the Byzantine Empire. Russia
to-day might be, and in all human likelihood would be, a Catho-
lic nation, had not the -ambition of Cerularius, the Patriarch of
Constantinople, induced him to separate from Catholic unity in
1053 and reject all communion with the Holy See, which had-
sanctioned his own appointment. The Russian Church took no
active part in the schism, but, as it continued to receive bishops
from the schismatical capital of the East, it gradually lost direct
relations with the centre of Catholic unity. The Russian bishops,
while acknowledging their dependence on Constantinople, fre-
quently refused to receive metropolitans sent by the Byzantine
patriarch. They accepted the canonization of St. Nicholas made
by Pope Urban II. after Cerularius had separated himself from
all communion with Rome, and St. Nicholas is to-day really
the popular, almost the national, saint among the Russian peo-
ple, even though schismatic. The religious condition of the
Russian people during the eleventh and twelfth centuries was
peculiar. They had accepted the Christian religion in 988,
through the influence of Vladimir, the Grand Duke of Kieff,

148 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

but its acceptance had been rather a national decision than a
process of individual conversion. The work of instruction in
the doctrines and practices of the faith followed instead of pre-
ceding its formal acceptance in Russia. It was a slow and dif-
ficult task among an illiterate race, surrounded in great part by
neighbors still pagan. The Poles and Hungarians, the only
Christian nations with whom they had any intercourse, except
with the Eastern Empire, were themselves recently converted,
and they had received their teachers and practices from the
Latin Catholic Church in Germany. It was not strange that
differences of discipline and church language, though easily un-
derstood by well-instructed men, should bewilder the ignorant
Russians, especially when complicated by questions of subtle
metaphysical distinctions in definitions of points of faith such
as the Greek patriarch used to justify his separation from the
Roman See. Tsargrad, or Constantinople, was to them the cen-
tre of the civilized world, while Rome was but vaguely known
as a great name. When thrown into close relations with the
Latin Catholics of Poland the Russian princes found no diffi-
culty in regarding themselves as equally Catholic ; when they
were engaged with the envoys of the Greek court they were
equally ready to acknowledge themselves subjects of the patri-
arch. It was a condition most unsatisfactory in itself, and it
was fatal to development in intellectual and Christian life ; but
it could not be fairly asserted that Russia was then schismatic.

TARTAR IDEAS IN RELIGION.

The conquest of Kieff, by the generals of Genghis Khan, the
Mongol ruler of half Asia, in 1224 arrested for two centuries
almost all progress among the Russian people. Their national
unity was destroyed and a number of petty princes, absolute
serfs of the Mongol khans, and appointed by the latter, became
their masters. All communication with Catholic Europe was
cut off by the Tartar domination, and while Christianity was
still retained by the people, the clergy, and especially the
metropolitans, came to recognize their princes as supreme alike
in church and state. One of the principalities under the Tar-
tar Empire, that of Souzdal, a Russian colony founded among
the Finnish population that occupied the country where Mos-
cow now stands, in the twelfth century gradually grew to power
by the energy and unscrupulousness of its princes. It extended
its dominions, and under the title of Grand Duchy of Muscovy
was the origin of the present Russian Empire. Kieff and its

1896.] THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. 149

territory, the original Russia, was conquered from the Tartars
in the fourteenth century by the Lithuanians of the North, who
themselves had just become Christian. By the marriage, in
1390, of Jagello, the Duke of Lithuania, with Hedwig, Queen
of Poland, the two countries with the Russian provinces lately
won from Tartar rule, Ukraine, Podolia, and Volhynia, were
united into the Polish state. The new Poland was entirely
Christian, but its people were divided between the Latin rite
and the Ruthenian.

THE GREAT ABORTIVE COUNCIL.

The final effort made by the Holy See to end the disastrous
Greek schism proved unexpectedly the turning point for Russia
against Catholic unity. Pope Eugene II., in 1439, called to-
gether the second Council of Florence for the noble purpose of
uniting Christendom against the Turkish invaders who were
threatening the destruction of the Greek Empire. The prelates
of both Latin and Greek churches assembled for a last time in
common council. The latter formally renounced the petty word-
quibbles which for four centuries had served as an apology for
schism, and recognized the unity of the Christian Church under
the supremacy of the successor of Peter. The Metropolitan
of Moscow, Isidor, accepted the acts of the council as head of
the Ruthenian'Church, and for a brief space the Christian world
seemed restored to harmonious union.

Unfortunately it was only for a very brief time. On the re-
turn of the Greek prelates to Constantinople from the council a
violent agitation was raised by a part of the nobles and clergy
against any communion with the hated Latins. National jealousy
became the acknowledged reason for rejecting unity in the
Christian religion. The Patriarch and the Emperor of Constan-
tinople endeavored in vain to allay the popular passions, but in
a brief time Mohammed II., with two hundred thousand Turkish
troops, was at the gates of the imperial city. Constantinople
was taken by assault and has since remained the capital of the
Mohammedan world. Its last Christian ruler died bravely on its
ramparts as a Catholic. The Greeks who had refused commu-
nion with the Christians of the West received a schismatic
patriarch from the blood-stained sultan, and the union of Chris-
tendom was sundered again.

BEGINNING OF THE RUSSIAN SCHISM.

The reception of the union in Russia was different but equally
unfavorable. The Grand Duke of Moscow, Vasili II., after some

150 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

hesitation, decided against any union with the Latin Church.
He was already the practical head of the church in his own do-
minions, and he felt no desire to sacrifice the power that posi-
tion gave him for motives of a purely religious kind. Vasili
drove the Metropolitan Isidor from Moscow and established a new
metropolitan in that city as head of the Russian Church. Schism
was thus, for the first time, formally proclaimed in Russia ; and
under the despotism of the czars it still holds seventy millions
of Christians in separation from the Universal Church.

Vasili, however, was not lord of all the Russian people.
The Ruthenians of Kieff and in the Polish provinces were in-
dependent of his power, but even on them the course of the
Muscovite grand duke and the Greek Church exercised a pow-
erful influence. After a few years the greater part of the Ru-
thenians rejected the authority of the Holy See again. The
efforts made by different popes to bring back to unity the Rus-
sian and Ruthenian Catholics were unsuccessful for more than
a century. Ivan the Terrible, a sort of crazy predecessor of
Peter the Great, and remarkable alike for his cruelties and his
love of theological disputation, offered at one time during the
sixteenth century to recognize the spiritual supremacy of the
Holy See, but his offers were based on political expediency
and never carried into effect. Shortly afterwards, however, a
movement for reunion commenced in the Ruthenian Church
under Polish rule. The Patriarch of Constantinople, Jeremias,
had bought his appointment from the Turkish vizier, and to
raise funds to pay he visited Russia and Poland. The Russian
czar, Feodor, took advantage of the occasion. He offered Jere-
mias a large sum if he would erect Moscow into a patriarchate
wholly independent of Constantinople, and Jeremias readily con-
sented. Kieff had formerly been the metropolitan see of the
whole Ruthenian rite, and the establishment of this new dignity
caused a lively feeling of indignation among the Ruthenians
outside the dominions of the czar. This feeling was intensified
when the Greek patriarch refused to consecrate the newly elect-
ed metropolitan of Kieff unless the latter would pay him a
sum of fourteen thousand florins. It reached the highest point
when the Sultan of Turkey, by a firman issued while Jeremias
was still in Kieff, removed him by his own despotic will from
his patriarchal office and gave a new head to the Greek Chris-
tian Church in the person of Metrophanes. This event brought
about a synod of the hitherto schismatical Ruthenian bishops
at Brzest in 1590, to decide between the claims of the two

1896.] THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. 151

patriarchs to their spiritual obedience. The anomaly of a Chris-
tian Church receiving its spiritual guides from the will of a
Mohammedan ruler was so striking that the assembled bishops
rejected both patriarchs and turned their attention to a reunion
with the Catholic Church. The question was debated as it
never had been before among the whole body of Ruthenians
outside the Russian dominions, where the will of the czar was
the only law of conscience. The laity as well as the clergy
took part in the agitation, as all felt that the existing condition
of affairs in their church was intolerable. Some imagined that
a general reformation of the schooling and character of the
schismatic clergy would suffice to secure this church from the
dangers which surrounded its existence. Others felt that union
with the centre of Christianity was a necessity, and the majori-
ty of the bishops so decided. The primate, Rahoza, who had
been the subject of the extortions of the Greek patriarch, con-
voked a national synod at Brzest in 1595. All the bishops except
one there pronounced for union with the Catholic Church in
the same terms as had been adopted a hundred and fifty years
before at the Council of Florence. Clement VIII. , the reigning
pope, solemnly ratified the act of union ; and gave the Ruthe-
nian primate the right to chose, confirm, and consecrate all other
bishops of that rite. The confirmation of the primate was re-
served alone to the Sovereign Pontiff. The pontiff on this oc-
casion expressed his hope that through the Ruthenians the
whole East would in the future return to Catholic unity.

POLAND ADHERES TO THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

The reunion of the Ruthenians outside Russia with the Cath-
olic Church was not accomplished without a long struggle, even
after the Council of Brzest. Several of the great nobles and
the Cossack free companies of the Ukraine pronounced fiercely
against any union with Rome. For many years a bitter strife
was kept up by the schismatics, who organized a church of
their own by the permission of the Polish government. The
Archbishop of Polotsk, St. Josaphat, was the great means of
establishing the union firmly among the majority of the Ruthe-
nians. He was murdered by some fanatical schismatics in Wi-
tebsk, in 1630 ; but after his death the great body of the nation
accepted the Catholic faith without reserve, though the Cossacks
of the Ukraine and a small minority of the towns-people of
eastern Poland continued obstinate in this schism under the
patronage of Russian intrigues.

152 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the two
divisions of the Ruthenian Christians, Catholic and schismatic,
continued to exist side by side in Poland. In Russia conformity
with the schism was strictly enforced, and there were no Uniats.
The form of government of the Russian Church was remodelled
by Peter the Great, who replaced the schismatical Patriarch of
Moscow by a mixed commission of ecclesiastics and laymen,
appointed and removed at will by the czar. This body is
known as the Holy Synod, and forms the highest ecclesiastical
authority in the present Russian Church. A rigid adherence to
old customs and complete obedience to the czar are the
supreme law of the schismatic Russian Church. Even preaching
is not allowed to its priests without police permission, and the
number of times that the people may approach the sacraments
is strictly fixed by law. Among the Catholic Ruthenians the
ordinary practices of piety, such as the Rosary, improved
methods of teaching Christian doctrine and the celebration of
several daily Masses in each church, were freely introduced,
though the Sovereign Pontiffs were strict in requiring the pre-
servation of the ancient Ruthenian rites in all essentials. A
wide difference thus grew up between the Uniats and the
Russian schismatics in religious observances in the course of two
-centuries.

THE GREAT CATHERINE'S WAY.

The partition of Poland in the last century, which gave the
greater part of its territory to the Russian government, was
followed by an attack on the religion of its Uniat population.
Catherine II., in the treaties which followed each successive
seizure of Polish territory, pledged herself to the fullest tolera-
tion for the Catholic religion among her new subjects, but
scarcely was the first of these signed, in 1773, when twelve
hundred parishes of Ruthenian Catholics were forcibly enrolled
among the members of the state church. The first partition of
Poland had been preceded by a Cossack dragonnade which
rivalled the deeds of the Turks in Armenia during last year.
It was followed by a roving commission of schismatic priests
with military escorts, which made a circuit of the Catholic
Ruthenian parishes and required their priests to accept the
supremacy of the czarina in religion as a part of their allegiance
to the new government. In case of refusal the priests were
exiled, and the envoys drew up petitions in the name of the
people for incorporation with the schismatic church. The

1896.] THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. 153

government at St. Petersburg at once accepted these pretended
petitions, and from that moment it was regarded as treason for
any member of the incorporated parish to profess himself a
Catholic. Within three years no less than four thousand parishes
in Volhynia, Podolia, and Lithuania were thus separated from
all communion with the Catholic Church, and at the death of
Catherine, in 1796, less than a million and a half of Ruthenian
Catholics out of a population of nearly eight millions were
recognized by the Russian government as entitled to the
name.

The movement to force the Ruthenians into schism was
interrupted on the death of Catherine. Paul, her son, and
Alexander I. were naturally tolerant, and they permitted their
Catholic subjects the free exercise of their religion. When
Nicholas succeeded to the Russian throne he resumed the
policy of Catherine, but under different forms. Catherine had
banished the bishops ; Nicholas undertook to corrupt them. A
Lithuanian priest, Siemasko, acted a part similar to that of
Cranmer in English history. When already an apostate, he had
himself appointed a Catholic archbishop only to be able to betray
the charge entrusted to him by the Holy Father. While still
a simple priest he was sent to St. Petersburg by his metropoli-
tan as a diocesan delegate to the Catholic College. He there
addressed a secret memorial to the emperor, suggesting a plan
for forcing the Ruthenian Catholics, still recognized as such, into
the state church.

SIBERIA OR APOSTASY/

Nicholas received the plan favorably, and to carry it out he
recommended Siemasko to the Holy See as coadjutor to the
Ruthenian Archbishop of Wilna. The candidate had no hesita-
tion about taking the solemn oath of fidelity to the Holy See
and the Catholic Church, while actually working with all his
power for the abolition of Catholicity. The metropolitan was
very old, and during nine years the supreme control of the
Ruthenian Church was placed in the hands of a pretended Cath-
olic, pledged secretly to effect its ruin. A series of measures
were adopted by Siemasko in the name of enforcing Catholic
discipline to make the usages of the Uniats the same with those
of the schismatics and to cut off all communion with the Latin
Catholics. The leading posts in the Church, including the tw,o
other dioceses, were given to secret adherents, ol the schism,
and when the. Primate Buhlak died, in 1839, Siemaskowwith his

154 THE NEW RUTHENIAN CARDINAL. [May,

two suffragans, lost no time in presenting a petition to the
Russian government for the enrollment of the Ruthenian Cath-
olics of Lithuania in a body in the state church. The request
was at once granted in spite of the pledges so often given of
full freedom of conscience for the Ruthenian Catholics. The
priests who refused to betray their faith were treated as rebels
against their ecclesiastical head, though Siemasko by his public
apostasy had forfeited all right to the obedience of Catholics.
The punishments inflicted for adherence to the faith under these
circumstances were terrible, and it commenced for the clergy
some five years before the apostasy of Siemasko. In 1835
several priests were banished for refusing to adopt the schis-
matic missals introduced by Siemasko as a nominal Catholic.
After the apostasy of the recreant archbishop not less than a
hundred and six priests and monks were sent to Siberia, and
nine hundred and thirty died in prison or banishment, out of a
total of less than three thousand Catholic priests and monks in
the three dioceses of Lithuania. The laity, deprived of priests
and all external profession of their faith, suffered scarcely less.
In many places the whole population refused to admit the
priests sent by the apostate archbishop. We can give only one
or two examples. The five villages of the parish of Dudakomtz
refused admission to their church to the schismatic priests and
guarded it day and night for several weeks in 1841. The gov-
ernor of the province, Engelhard, came in person with a mili-
tary force and sentenced five of the principal men to three
hundred lashes of the knout. Two died under the lash, another
was sent to prison in a schismatic monastery. The population,
forced to open their church to the schismatic priests, continued
to refrain from any attendance up to 1854, when an order ap-
peared for the exile of the whole people to Siberia if they re-
fused to accept the state religion. In Porozoff, another village,
the open resistance continued till 1862; and elsewhere the same
attachment to the Catholic faith continued to show itself in
spate of all the penalties of the law. What is still the disposi-
tion of these Ruthenian Catholics after two generations of en-
forced separation from the body of the church we have no
means of knowing. In Russian law they are all schismatics,
but only the Almighty knows whether in Lithuania, as in Japan,
the faith still survives in the inner life of the sorely-tried
Uniats.

One diocese — that of Chelm, in western Poland — was the
only Ruthenian diocese permitted still to exist in the Russian

1896.]

MOUNTAINS.

Empire after the apostasy of Siemasko, and it was suppressed
in 1874 by the autocratic will of the new czar, Alexander
II. The persecutions which followed this last measure have
continued to our own day. In Austrian Poland alone the Ruthe-
nian Catholic Church has been spared out of a population which
but for the despotism of Russia would now amount to nearly
fifteen millions of Catholics. In raising the head of the Aus-
trian Uniats to the cardinalate, Leo XIII. at once testifies his
sympathy with their past and his wish to maintain their na-
tional rite on a footing of perfect equality with that of the
rest of the church. The honor bestowed on the Archbishop of
Eemberg is shared by every Ruthenian Catholic, and we may
hope that its effect will be felt even by those now condemned
in appearance to wear the name of the schismatic church of
the czar.

MOUNTAINS.

BY MARY T. WAGGAMAtf.

E transfixed billows reared to regal Rest —

Vast Nature's symbols of the works of Art !
Despite your majesty, ye manifest

Earth's effort to assuage her tortured heart !

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

BY REV. B. J. REILLY.

" An eagle city on her heights austere,

Taker of tribute from the chainless flood,
She watches wave above her in the clear

The whiteness of her banner purged with blood.

" Near her grim citadel the blinding sheen

Of her cathedral spire triumphant soars,
Rocked by the Angelus, whose peal serene
Beats over Beaupre and the Levis shores."

— Les Anciens Canadiens.

'HERE are two cities which I have seen in North
America that still have about them the old-time
flavor of Europe. One stands on a hill-top and
its yellow houses bake in perennial sunshine. A
beautiful bay rises and falls at its feet ; tall
palm-trees encircle it, and high, forbidding mountains loom up
behind it. It takes its name from one of the Apostles, and is
called Santiago de Cuba.

The other city is built on a promontory ; the broad St.
Lawrence River rushes by its walls and battlements, fertile
green fields surround it in summer, but for the greater part of
the year it lies asleep in a pall of snow.

A Norman sailor, we are told, coming down the St. Law-
rence, and seeing a rugged pile looming over the river, ex-
claimed " Quel bee ! " (What a promontory !), and thus gave a
name to the "Walled City of the North."

VOL. LXIII. — II

158

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

[May,

For many years Quebec was a most active centre, and, as
every school-boy knows, it served as a battle-ground for the
French and English in the New World. As early as 1535
Jacques Cartier pitched his winter quarters on the shore of the
St. Charles River, which meets the St. Lawrence below the
present city. On the third of July, 1608, Samuel de Champlain
founded Quebec, and it remained in the possession of the
French until Montcalm, letting his valor get the better of his
discretion, left the impregnable city to do battle with General
Wolfe on the historic plains of Abraham. Quebec had with-
stood four sieges previous to this one, and possibly if General
Montcalm had remained behind the walls of the city, Canada
would not have passed into the possession of the kingdom on
which the sun sometimes rises, but never sets.

The City of Quebec to-day is not a modern city either in
appearance or in character. The rush of the trolley or the
clang of the cable-car disturbs not its even tenor. One would
not be surprised if at night he were awakened by the cry of a
watchman announcing " 3 o'clock and a raw and gusty morn-
ing." Quaintness and age cling to this delightful town. The
French Canadians preserve the courtly manners of old times,
and it would not seem amiss to find of a summer's morning
courtiers and chevaliers, seigneurs, barons, and their ladies,
dressed in gold and lace, walking the terrace in front of the

Chateau Frontenac. This aroma of past days — of the time
when Louis Quatorze, Le Grand Monarque, took the morning
air in the gardens of Versailles — which still clings to Quebec
makes it one of the most interesting of the "show cities" which
the traveller is privileged to visit.

The author of the novel Le Chien cCOr has written an

1896.]

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

interesting passage on the great hall of the Castle of St. Louis,
which admirably groups together those who had a hand in the
making of New France. It runs thus:

" Over the governor's seat hung a gorgeous escutcheon of
the royal arms, decked
with a cluster of white
flags, sprinkled with
golden lilies, the em-
blems of French sove-
reignty in the colony.
Among the portraits
on the walls, besides
those of the late Louis
XIV. and present King
Louis XV., which hung
on each side of the
throne, might be seen
the features of Riche-
lieu, who first organized
the rude settlements on
the St. Lawrence in a
body politic, a reflex
of feudal France ; and

of Colbert, who made
available its natural
wealth and resources,
by peopling it with
the best scions of the mother-land — the noblesse and peasan-
try of Normandy, Brittany, and Aquitaine. There, too, might
be seen the keen, bold features of Cartier, the first discoverer,
and of Champlain, the first explorer of Quebec. The gallant,
restless Louis Buade de Frontenac, was pictured there, side
by side with his fair countess, called, by reason of her sur-
passing loveliness, 'the divine.' Vaudreuil too, who spent a
long life of devotion to his country, and Beauharnois, who nour-
ished its young strength until it was able to resist not only the
powerful confederacy of the Five Nations, but the still more
powerful league of New England and the other English colonies.
There also were seen the sharp, intellectual face of Laval, its
first bishop, who organized the church and education in the
colony, and of Talon, the wisest of intendants, who devoted
himself to the improvement of agriculture, the increase of trade,
and the well-being of all the king's subjects in New France.

SILVER BUST OF FATHER BREBEUF IN NOTRE
DAME CONVENT.

i6o

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

[May,

And one more portrait was there, worthy to rank among the
statesmen and rulers of New France, the pale, calm, intellec-
tual features of Mere Marie de 1'Incarnation, the first superi-
oress of the Ursulines of Quebec, who in obedience to heavenly
visions . . . left France to found schools for the children
of the new colonists, and who taught her own womanly graces
to her own sex, who were destined to become the future
mothers of New France."

For scenic beauty Quebec is remarkable, and many pens
have painted its charms in warm words of praise. To step out
on a fine summer's morning on the deck of the Montreal boat
as it touches at Point Levis, on the opposite shore of the St.
Lawrence, and to see for the first time this American Gibral-
tar, this double city, one portion lying nestled by the river-

IN THE HOSPITAL HOTEL DIEU.

side, and the other portion standing boldly out on the hill-top,,
with the sun glinting on its fortifications, its basilica, and the
Chateau Frontenac, is a sight never to be forgotten.

1896.]

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

161

The surrounding country, also, is picturesque. The two
rivers meeting below the walls of the city, the villages scattered
along the St. Lawrence, the water tumbling over Montmorency
Falls, the pretty Isle of Orleans splitting the river, make a

LAVAL UNIVERSITY.

panorama which would well repay one, even if there were no
other way to reach the upper town than by mounting Break-
neck Stairs.

But it is to a Catholic especially that Quebec and its vicin-
ity is ^interesting. It was in the early days of American colon-
ization a centre of great missionary work. Relics and reminders
of the heroes who carried the Catholic religion to this northern
country are still to be seen in Quebec. At the Hotel Dieu
the sisters have piously kept the head of "Father John de
Brebeuf, the Jesuit martyr. The Laval University, over which
the venerable Cardinal Taschereau still presides ; the basilica,
and the other churches and historic chapels ; the Ursuline
Church founded in 1639, in which Montcalm is buried, and the
famous shrine of Sainte Anne de Beaupr6, are a few of the
objects which will interest Catholic visitors.

One cannot but be edified by the important part religion
plays in the daily life of the people. It surrounds them like

1 62

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

[May,

the air they breathe. The crosses visible on the many churches,
convents, hospitals, and other institutions ; the " Calvarys " by
the roadside, the grottoes in the gardens of private families, the
little chapels for the feast of Corpus Christi, the sandaled monk
trudging along to his monastery, the tolling of the church bell,
now ringing the Angelus and again announcing a baptism or a
death ; the close union and love between the priests and the
people, give the place an air of Catholicity which does one
good. It is not now as it was in the early days of the author
of that charming story, Les Anciens Canadiens, when at the
ringing of the Angelus bell all noise in the city ceased and
every; one prayed ; but there is still enough public manifesta-
tion of religion to edify and charm a Catholic visitor coming
from a non-Catholic country, unless he be one of those Catho-
lics who believe in continually shaving down his religion so as
not to shock others who have been brought up in a cold and
naked faith.

I witnessed one morning, when sailing from Montreal to

HOUSE OF SURGEON ARNOIX, WHERE MONTCALM WAS CARRIED TO DIE.

Quebec, a strange effect of this evidence of religion. There
was a party of Protestants sitting on the deck of the steamer
watching the scenery along the banks of the river. Every
little while a new village would swim into their ken, and the

1896.]

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

163

first thing visible would be the spire of a church. Though it
was earlier than seven o'clock of a week-day, the churches were
open and people could be seen wending their way along the
road to hear Mass.
A young lady in the
party watched this
oft-recurring scene
for some time, and
then suddenly ex-
claimed in impatient
wonder : " Oh my !
the first and last
thing with the peo-
ple of this country
seems to be their
religion." She was
overpowered by it.
No doubt her idea
of religion was the
occasional reading
of a chapter or two
of the Bible, and a
quiet Sunday after-
noon. That it should
be a part of her
daily life probably
never occurred to
her.

And just here it
may be apropos to
say a word about
non-Catholic visitors
to Catholic coun-
tries. A great many
from the United

States go to Quebec every summer to see the city and take
the trip down the Saguenay River to Chicoutimi. Every-
where the churches are open all the day, so that Catholics can
drop in to say their prayers. Old men and women scarcely
able to hobble along are drawn to these churches by the mag-
netism of Him who dwells within. Little children stop their
play to enter and say a prayer to la bonne Sainte Anne. A
quiet French Canadian seminarian dressed in his cassock, a boy

164

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

[May,

wearing the uniform of his college, some young women, a
business 'ir/an, a few nuns — people of all kinds may be seen
almost^-any hour of the day telling their beads and praying

CATHEDRAL OF NOTRE DAME DES VICTOIRES.

before one of the altars. It is strange, considering the great
respect these people have for their churches, that some non-
Catholic visitors are forgetful even of the ordinary rules of
etiquette. They ought to remember the anecdote that is told

1896.]

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

i65

of the famous Nonconformist minister, Dr. Spurgeon. Seeing
two young men sitting in the gallery of his church .dufittg

$tu*y*

I* •> Lfl

|\. V

BREAKNECK STAIRS, QUEBEC.

service with their hats on, he interrupted his sermon to say
that once when he visited a Jewish synagogue he immediately
took off his hat, but on discovering that all the men wore their

i66 THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH. [May,

hats he put his on again. After relating this anecdote he
turned to the young men in the gallery, and asked quietly, " Will
you Jewish young men please remove your hats, as is the
custom in this church?" The hats came off. Dr. Spurgeon's
little joke is worth remembering.

Most of the people of Quebec, as every one knows, are
French Canadians. There is a fair sprinkling of Irish Catholics
in the city and its suburbs.

The life led by the people of New France is simple and
good. Henry Loomis Nelson, in Harper 's Magazine, has written
thus of the country of Jean-Baptiste : " In the quiet village,
where the good curb's word is law, there is likely to be very
little brawling and less drinking, for the French Canadians are
neither quarrelsome nor intemperate. There may be a tavern,
or perhaps two taverns, where not only guests are received but
where liquor is sold, but the cur£ sees to it that they are
closed very early in the evening. Long before midnight the
streets of the place are deserted, and a late wanderer need
have no fear of drunken hoodlums. A well-governed French
Canadian village, where the cur6 is thoroughly respected be-
cause of his wisdom and piety, affords a decided contrast to
many rural communities in English Canada and on our own side
of the border."

Not the least interesting of those whom one meets in the
provinces of Quebec are the old French cur£s. There seems
to be no end of them, and they are as delightful as the Abb£
Constantin. Some are fat, with a circle of white hair around
their tonsured heads ; others are thin, and these have an
abundance of long white hair. They are kindly and courtly to
a degree seldom seen in this age-end. At the sight of one of
them out walking you instantly recall Austin Dobson's
description in " The Curb's Progress," which I find impossible
not to quote :

" You see him pass by the little ' Grand Place,'

And the tiny ' H6tel-de-Ville ' ;
He smiles as he goes to the fleuriste Rose
And the pompier Thdophile.

He turns, as a rule, through the March£ cool,

Where the noisy fish-wives call,
And his compliments pays to the 'belle Th^rese '

As she knits in her dusky stall.

1896.] THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH. 167

There's a letter to drop at the locksmith's shop,

And Toto, the locksmith's niece,
Has jubilant hopes, for the Cur6 gropes

In his tails for a pain d'epice.

There is also a word that no one heard

To the furrier's daughter Lou ;
And a pale cheek fed with a flickering red,

And a ' Bon Dieu garde M'sieu ! '

But a grander way for the Sous-Prefet,

And a bow for Ma'am'selle Anne,
And a mock ' off-hat ' to the Notary's cat,

And a nod to the sacristan.

For ever through life the Cur£ goes

With a smile on his kind old face ;
With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair,

And his green umbrella-case."

The old cure with his " mock off-hat to the Notary's cat "
has a sense of humor which surprises one to find in so old a
man. I recall an instance of this humor which may be worth
recording.

On the hill-top just behind the rectory of a parish near
Quebec the summer camp of her majesty's soldiers had been
pitched. One day a minister of the Church of England came,
in company with his wife, to visit the encampment. By a mis-
take they entered the grounds of the rectory, and the old cur£
met them. After bidding them " Bon jour " and telling them
he was their " serviteur," he noticed that the gentleman wore
a deep Roman collar.

Now, the old cur6 had seen priests from the " States " dressed
just Hike this, and so he asked the stranger if he were a Catho-
lic priest. " Yes, sir," the minister answered, " but I am not a
Roman Catholic priest. I am a priest of the Church of England,
and I am on my way to the encampment." The old cure saw
the humor of the situation, and shaking his head, as if in sor-
row, murmured " a priest of the Church of England "; then in
a solemn way he said : " Monsieur, I beg your pardon, but my
duty compels me to tell you that you are on the wrong road."
The minister, taking the words seriously, resented them, saying
that he was not seeking advice in religious matters, but merely
trying to find the encampment. The old cure appeared not to

i68

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

[May,

notice his anger, and grew more stupid and slow. " Yes, you
are on the wrong way," he went on soliloquizing, " and it falls
to the lot of an old man like me to set you right. You wish
to reach the camp, but you are now on your way to my kitchen."
Then, looking up as if from a reverie, he added, " Follow me,
monsieur, and I will show you the way that you should walk."
The anger dropped from the minister's face, and no doubt he

blamed himself for misun-
derstanding the slow old
cure. But Monsieur le
Cur£ walked in his garden,
with his breviary under his
arm, and laughed softly to
himself.

From Quebec to Chi-
coutimi, a trip which most
visitors to Quebec make,
gives one a chance to see
this rugged country, and
the St. Lawrence and Sag-
uenay Rivers, both by sun-
light and moonlight. Mur-
ray Bay is a famous summer
resort for English Cana-
dians. Groups of them
await the arrival of the
boat. The young men are
very English, and the young
women, in Tarn O'Shanter
hats and heavy frieze capes,
seem to have about them the odor of the Scotch heather.
When the boat draws away they wave their handkerchiefs, and,
instead of " Good-night, ladies," they sing :

" Bon soir, mes amis, bon soir ;
Bon soir, mes amis, bon soir ;
Bon soir, mes amis ;
Bon soir, mes amis ;
Bon soir — au revoir."

The sail up the Saguenay, " the river of death," well repays
one. " This river comes from Cathay, for in that place a strong
current runs, and a terrible tide rises." Such was the old belief
in regard to this wonderful river.

MOST OF THE PEOPLE ARE FRENCH CANADIANS.

1896.]

THE WALLED CITY OF THE NORTH.

169

The village of Tadousac, the scene of the wonderful labors
of the Jesuits and Recollets ; Cape Trinity and Cape Eternity,
the brow of which is crowned with a large statue of the Blessed
Virgin ; and Chicoutimi village, at the head of the river, are
places of interest, both for the peculiar ruggedness and sub-
limity of the scenery, and because these spots were the theatre
of heroic Catholic deeds years ago :

" When to the sound of pious song,
Borne by the echoes far along,
The mountains with the rounded crest
Stretching afar from east to west,
By Breton priests with whiten'd hair
The sacrifice was offered there,
Whilst, 'mid these scenes so wild and new,
Knelt Cartier and his hardy crew."

It is not an altogether up-to-date country, this land of Jean-
Baptiste, but it is beautiful ; its people are good and kindly ;
and if it smells not enough of the market-place to please
us moderns, that defect should not be counted too much
against it.

THE CALICHE.

A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [May,

A TALE OF ANDALUSIA.

BY K. VON M.

PART I.

'HE thirteenth century is young, and here in Spain
is full of life. Andalusia looks fair by the light
of the spring sun, and Cordova, its chief boast,
proudly wears the laurels of prosperity. But it
is not vulgar commerce that has added that
dignified poise to her carriage ; the Europeans are beginning to
listen to the soft Moorish accents. Their battles long past,
resting in fancied security on Spanish soil, the Moslems have
settled themselves to the conquest of letters, and the names of
Averroes, Al Farabi, Avempace, and their disciples sound from
this southern land with a new attraction on the jaded ears of
Europe.

On this spring day, as the city basks in the high-noon sun,
its Moorish walls and feathery towers smiling complacently on
the passing Spaniard, a crowd of scholars come lazily down
the hill — Moors, all of them, Cordova's youth, though a warmer
sun than Spain's has painted their smooth, dark brows.
" Philosophy, deep serious mistress," apostrophizes one of them,
"Alezenna makes us court thee. His lectures are as clear as
our Guadalquivir." The speaker was a favorite among the lads,
and natural was their choice. The youth was somewhat more
than twenty, tall and of a slender build, his dark skin and
delicately-carved features betokening the true Moor.

" Surely Aristotle has a splendid exponent in our master,
think you not, Azraela?" and he flung his arm teasingly round
a lad several years his younger, whose clouded countenance
showed that in this eulogy he did not share.

"Alezenna may be great, but he is not to my taste."

" You mean you have no appetite for philosophy, Azraela,"
said a third ; " the poetic, the romantic suits your soul better.
Some lucky rhymer singing of our conquests here in Spain
would charm you more than all the philosophy in our schools."

Now Ziribi spoke again : " But you should be doubly
attached to Alezenna. It is his fame that brings even those
Christians whom you long to subdue to our gates."

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 171

" That is it," answered Azraela, " and from him I hoped
would go the influence that would conquer the spirit of the
Christians, and bring them to Allah."

" He at least leads them from the teachings of their own
creed, and so prepares them, perhaps, for the eloquence of
some second prophet," said Ziribi.

The two had wandered from the rest, and now paused in
front of the beautiful mosque. Through the open portals could
be seen the thousand jasper and porphyry columns, magnificent
in their varied colorings. Looking on that expression of his
Mohammedanism, Azraela answered : " Would that I could be
that prophet ! Our fathers have taken the best part of this fair
land and made it ours ; it now remains for us to teach the
conquered Spaniards our Koran. Ours is the harder task ; their
faith is stronger than their arms."

" Well, see you not that the schools will bring your desire
nearer to you ? Philosophy is the cry of the age, and at Paris
the teaching of Aristotle is under ban, but the edict is of no
avail ; the youth, infatuated, come to us for the forbidden
fruit. Seville and our own Cordova are filled with them.
What their authorities have condemned we will use as our
instrument of conquest. With the philosophy of Aristotle as
our lever we will move all Europe."

" Yes, Ziribi, and how I long to be another Mohammed to
lead captive the civilization of to-day " ; and the boy's whole
expression was as proud as even the realization of that hope
could make it.

" Azraela, when that ambition fills your soul I may as well
take my leave. The Koran is safe if there breathe many like
you. I will fly to the woods and think over my problems for
to-morrow, instead of dreaming by the mosque of bloody bat-
tles between the Crescent and the Cross, with thyself on a fleet
Arabian, coursing hither and thither, with sword unknown to
sheath, the bravest man in all the mad scene " ; and with a
ringing laugh at his friend's expense, Ziribi left him.

Let us follow the older lad as he strolls toward the river
and across the great stone bridge with which the Moors had
spanned the stream. How prosperous and changed the city
was from the old Corduba the Romans had founded there
thirteen centuries ago !

Ziribi paused by one of the ponderous arches and meditated
on the two great ancient races. Roman hands had built the
city ; but the Romans were a memory now, while Greek mind,

172 A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [May,

alive and active, formed and ruled its very thought. Ziribi
crossed and wandered up the hill on the other side of the
river, pondering on his studies ; but now and again his conver-
sation with Azraela would turn his thoughts in a different
channel. He too called Allah his god, and Mohammed his
prophet ; but despite his Moorish environment his conscience
painted a nobler ideal of good than any the Koran could present.
Deeply attached to the traditions of his race, yet no longer in
harmony with its conception of spirituality, Ziribi had turned
with all the ardor of his nature to the new philosophy which
his own Moors were spreading over the world. In the interest
of his thoughts he utterly forgot the distance he had placed
between the city and himself, until at length he reached a
wood. The waning sunlight slanting through the branches of
the trees bespoke departing day, but the beauty of nature in
that mellow glow allured Ziribi into the shadows of the forest.
Well within its depths, a sound strikes on his ear like the
voice of the breeze, yet more human. Ziribi paused. " 'Tis
but the wind " ; and wrapping his haique more closely around
him, he continues.

Again he hears the sound, now in notes more tender than
even the gentle wind of spring could sing to awake the bud-
ding blossoms. He listens, and now distinctly recognizes the
wild, sweet tones of a viol. Ziribi's music-loving soul was
stirred, and he hastily pushes through the trees to find who is
filling the sombre forest with melody. Nearer and nearer
sound the notes until, suddenly coming upon an open space, he
finds himself face to face with their author. The musician
casts a welcoming glance at the stranger, but to break that
melody at its height would be an unnecessary sacrilege, for
Ziribi's attitude shows that he has no intention of leaving. His
first emotion of surprise changes to deep interest as he scru-
tinizes the man before him.

Most surely a monk — and Ziribi's life had brought him none
too near the hated race of priests. He notices the white habit
and coarse, dark cloak, suited admirably to the countenance
above it. He observes the broad, intellectual forehead, the
thin, fine brown hair, the large nose — a face with every feature
well developed, but otherwise spare, almost emaciated. Entire
devotion to one love had stamped its character on these hu-
man features until it made of them a testimony to the perfect
goodness and truth of the object of that love. Ziribi dimly
sees this in the kindly smile, he hears it in the purity of the

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 173

music, and when the glorious strains cease, and, laying down
his instrument, the monk says " Amen," he feels it in the deep
conviction of the voice.

"Did my music startle you in the midst of these woods?"
said the monk, as he beckoned the Moor to a seat on the
mossy rock before him. Ziribi knew not why, but he followed
the suggestion.

" Indeed I was surprised to find the forest held such a
player."

" Nor do I trouble it much. It is not often I can come to
learn of the feathered minstrels," said the monk.

" Their master, rather than their pupil, I should say ; they
are sweet singers, but their tiny throats never breathe such ex-
alted, glorious harmonies as I've just heard," answered Ziribi.

" Ah ! they have not my inspiration, boy ; I was practising
for Easter. The Resurrection of our crucified Lord was my
theme."

"You played as though the strings were stretched across your
heart. Easter could not wring such notes from me."

The monk looked straight into Ziribi's eyes as he answered :
" It should ; the Death and Resurrection were for you."

Challenged by the keen glance, the youth said that of course,
as the monk could see, he was a Moor, and that Christianity
and he were strangers.

" Then may you be so no longer ! " answered the monk, as
he arose and offered his hand to Ziribi. His manner showed
such friendliness that Ziribi felt it would be churlish to with-
stand him, and in that grasp each recognized a kindred soul,
though wide regions of thought and faith otherwise separated
them.

" Tell me somewhat of your life, my friend. By your scrolls
I see you are a student. But ere we begin to talk let us walk
toward the monastery."

Ziribi felt Cordova was far indeed, and, willing to pursue, his
adventure, assented. His companion listened attentively as
Ziribi talked, smiled when he heard of Azraela's dreams, asked
many questions about the schools, but showed the deepest in-
terest whenever the boy lightly touched upon himself.

At the edge of the forest the level ground stretched before
them. Towards the east a rocky hill caught the reflected glow
of the sinking sun. On its summit stood the monastery, a gray
stone structure built by the monks themselves. All the skill of
their hands had been put into the southern end. There rose
VOL. LXIII. — 12

174 A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [Mayr

against the sky the slender tower of the chapel surmounted by
a wooden cross. Clinging vines gave the stones a darker color
near the ground, and here and there the ivy had climbed and
framed a casement. It was a fitting spot for the home of
monks. Nature here arrayed herself with simplicity and a pure
dignity in keeping with the holy lives spent within her shadow.

" It grows late ; let us hasten within."

They entered the low portal and went down the stone hall
until they came to a door half open, upon which Father Silves-
tro rapped.

At the response " Come in " he entered with Ziribi.

" I am late to-night, father, but I bring with me news from
the world without. A wanderer all the way from Cordova.
He is called Ziribi."

" Welcome, my child, to our home," said the superior ia
a rich, hearty voice, as he arose and closed the volume before
him. The muscular grasp with which he shook Ziribi's hand
showed the white hair was rather premature. " A score of
miles or more lie between here and Cordova ; you must have had
deep thoughts, my son," he continued, laughing. " However,,
we profit by them, for now you must stay and share our fare."

The padre's genial manner thawed Ziribi entirely out of his
reserve, and he found himself thanking the father and accepting
the offered hospitality as though to live and sup with monks
were no new thing to him. He told the superior how the for-
est concert had ended in his presence at the monastery.

" So you love music, too ? Then I can promise you a treat.
If you will live as one of my monks to-night you shall listen
to us sing at Benediction. My son, music is the art most divine.
It opens for our minds the world unknown, and while under
its charm we solve the mysterious problem of life and plan
great deeds with which to adorn our days. Ofttimes the ec-
static vision ceases with the dying notes, but it has its value.
It is. converted into purity of motive and strength of purpose
to push forward the practical deeds of life."

Ziribi, listening to the father, felt their relative positions to
be not only host and guest, but — was it possible ? — master and
he, Ziribi, pupil !

" But come/' added the father, " you must be weary. Re-
fresh yourself with solitude awhile. We will meet again at the
evening meal."

Alone in his cell, Ziribi hastily brushed the dust from his cloak
and, after bathing his face, sat down to rest. His little adventure

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 17$

absorbed his thoughts. He could almost see the look of horror
that would overspread Azraela's face when he would tell him
how and where he had spent the night. Ziribi smiled as though
now more than ever the boy's fanatic hatred of Christian creed
and folk seemed childish. At last his eyea left the casement
through which they had been gazing, seeing nothing but the
vision within, and as his thoughts journeyed back to the pre-
sent, they assumed that clear transparent look that showed the
mind had closed the doors of recollection and was open to re-
ceive the sense impressions. As they glanced around they
paused to find they had not observed before the object that
now seemed to fill the room. On the wall was hung a crucifix.
Ziribi had occasionally seen this Christian emblem, but never
before had his mind been interested enough to retain any im-
pression of it. But now, within the monastery walls, he gazed
with different eyes upon the sad, carved figure. It was the
death-scene of the God of the Christians, of him who had said
" Put up thy sword " — prophetic words to a Mohammedan.
Ziribi's gaze seemed to penetrate the bare scene before him
till he peopled the room with that angry mob on Calvary, and
filled out the picture with the scant points his knowledge served
him with, until suddenly the grand humiliation of that great
Act burst on his soul. The unsatisfied longings of his youth
were answered in an ideal that transformed the standards of
his life, and the " degradation of the cross " appeared the
noblest act of history. From the threshold came the words :

" Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do."
And Father Silvestro's voice completed the scene his imagina-
tion had painted. *

" I have come to break your meditations, my child ; the
meal is ready, and the monks await us."

At the long refectory table Ziribi met the rest of the
household. As the meal advanced, the first sharp hunger being
satisfied, conversation flowed.

"This age opens a field for us Dominicans," said the father
superior ; " even now the light of our order is preparing manu-
scripts that will startle the schools somewhat."

" What, may I ask, is the subject on which he writes ? "
said Ziribi.

"The great pagan, Aristotle," answered Father Silvestro.

"Aristotle!" repeated Ziribi in surprise, and prepared to
battle for his favorite study. " I thought you Christians would
have nothing to do with the heathen genius."

176 A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [May,

" Ah ! but if the Moors will the Christians must ; and
Thomas of Aquin is forging weapons from the gifted intellect
of the Greek to prove the dogmas of the church," answered
the monk.

" But, indeed, Alezenna, the Averroist — you will admit his
fame — proves by Aristotle beliefs utterly at variance with your
faith."

"It is the influence of Averroes we would correct," said the
father superior.

"Are words of such shifting import," went on Ziribi, "that,
living long after the mind that wrought them into glowing
sense, they turn traitors and, with the great name attached,
prove first the Christians to be mad, then fill their churches for
them ? "

" Nay," answered Father Silvestro, admiring the boy's
enthusiasm, "you confound the true wisdom of the seer with
the chaff of his translators. On the other hand, you might say,
When Aristotle lived he did not worship at a Christian altar,
how is it that his pagan mind will help us demonstrate our
faith ? It looks like a paradox, but see the eternal nature of
truth. We possess a grain of it. We assent to it because our
reason recognizes its lawful food. Where it leads we have no
choice but to follow. The ultimate flower of that little grain
may blossom when we are dust, but it will live and command
assent as long as minds have reason in them. Thus it was
with Aristotle. His reason, unaided, taught him many truths.
They are ours as they were his. Faith and revelation have
but taken us over chasms his finite mind could not bridge.
To his great powers, however, we owe much. He left us the
touchstone by which to test our reasoning."

"Alezenna explains the method," interrupted Ziribi.

" Then you can appreciate Thomas's work. It is to the
white light of the syllogism he submits the doctrines of the
church. From the trial they came forth unshaken."

" Why, then, is the study of the pagan forbidden in your
schools? "

" Let Aristotle speak for himself and he will do no harm. The
danger lies in the mistakes of his translators. Aristotle travelled
through many kinds of mind, and as many tongues, before he
reached us through you Moors. The church will give him to
her children in better form. William of Moerbek is now trans-
lating him for Thomas from the original Greek. When the
work is done Aristotle, freed from error, will be placed in our

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 177

universities. Could you tarry with us awhile we would teach
you the wisdom of the pagan ; Alezenna shows you but his
shadow."

"Yes," said the reverend superior, "stay but till this day
week, and you shall see some of the manuscripts of Thomas.
One of our fathers journeys even now from Bologna with the
precious vellum to keep us abreast of the world of thought."

" Indeed," answered the Moor, " I would like to see the
work, but I would miss my studies."

"Let me be your teacher for that week, Ziribi"; and Father
Silvestro's suggestion ended with a period of decision that half
shook Ziribi's unfortified intention of return. " Let us pursue
for that short time together some trains of thought we struck
upon to-day."

Somehow reasons for going were outwitted by reasons for
staying, and Ziribi, half willing to give in, found himself at the
end of the meal a promised guest until that day week.

Now that I have placed my Mohammedan hero, with intel-
lect keenly interested in the burning questions of the thirteenth
century, in the heart of a Dominican monastery, with the
wisdom of Saint Thomas Aquinas travelling fast towards him,
ye will conclude that a conversion is imminent.

Ziribi delayed, and the end of another week still found him
an inhabitant of the cloister. The daily life of the monks at-
tracted him, and the charm of Father Silvestro's cultivated
mind soon placed Ziribi in the position of willing pupil rather
than of casual guest. Months passed, and Alezenna was lost in
a greater teacher.

Autumn winds blowing past a slender, cowled figure in the
forest, clad in the familiar woollen habit, gossiped to the
burnished leaves about the new monk at the monastery. But
the wind was an artless tattler. It did no harm. It swept
right over Cordova, and only whistled, and the students coming
from the school that day never guessed which way the wind
had just blown ; but somehow it hung around Azraela until his
heart was chilled, and, drawing his haique more tightly about
him, with a sigh he hurried on.

PART II.

Five years have gone and we return to the cloister on the
hill. Time's grand cycles scarcely pause to consider so short
a space, and inanimate things, which seem to be part and
parcel of time, partake of this serene complacency. The

i/8 A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [May,

monastery seems in all things to know no change. Is it thus
with the monks ? Their little lot of three-score-ten must arouse
them to the flight of years. For the stone's insensibility they
have brains and hearts to finger-mark each hour.

To-day they are all astir. White figures from the garden
are hurrying into the chapel ; the monks in their cells have
dropped their books and pens and are filing out ; those in the
kitchen lay down their work and hasten with the others until
all are assembled within the frescoed walls. Our same superior
mounts the steps of the altar to tell the tidings that have
reached him. A party of Moors, fully armed, is rumored to
have left Cordova to scour the country round to convert the
Spaniards or put them to the sword. The little monastery is
to be one of the first points of assault. The invaders seem to
be headed by a Mohammedan of some renown, one Azraela.
At this a tall monk in the choir-loft starts. " Brethren," went
on the superior, " the night is coming on, w.e have no earthly
defence ; retire to your cells and pray to God that the storm
may be averted."

Slowly the chapel empties. One figure in the choir never
stirred. Azraela coming to slay his brethren ! Azraela still a
slave to Mohammed ! Ziribi had had his dreams, his ambitions
too. He had tasted the sweetness of Christianity, and lived in
the hope of making Azraela, his dearest youthful tie, see with his
eyes the light of truth. He had waited in vain for a time
that seemed propitious, but always the rumors from Cordova
told of feeling running high against the Christians, and to-day
was not the first that Azraela had been thus mentioned. But
now the time was ripe for action. That very night the battle
he had jested about with Azraela the last time he had spoken
with him would be fought. The Crescent or the Cross must
fall. Ziribi's eyes are bright with excitement ; he knows the
spirit of his boyhood's friend, and his own is wrought up to
equal it. Poor indeed appear the monastery's chances against
the armed fanatic Moors, yet Ziribi's face seems to express the
joy of triumph. Instinctively his hand goes to the side of his
girdle ; Azraela's would grasp a scimiter. Ziribi's too finds his
weapon.

" The flame of my life will not go out until I have kindled
a spark in Cordova." He leaves his niche in the choir and,
wrapt in the great purpose he intends to accomplish that night,
ascends trie aisle till he kneels at the foot of the altar. "Ask,
and ye shall receive." It was the prayer of faith, sweet-smell-

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 179

ing incense to God. The hours roll on, but Ziribi in his com-
mune with the Eternal knows no time. His kneeling figure is
erect and his clear, bright eyes look as though they had
pierced the veil of the Tabernacle and looked with a kindling
reverence within.

"Azraela would claim us at the point of the sword for
Mohammed ; let me at the foot of the cross claim them for
Thee. My God, with St. Paul I would say, ' I long to be dis-
solved and be with th.ee/ but let me not find my ransom in the
blood-stained hand of Azraela. -To-night perhaps thou wilt call
me. So near hast thou come to me, my Lord, that to pray to
live is agony, but banish me longer from thy presence and
save Azraela from crime." The impassioned prayer went on.
"O Mary! O Mother! who knowest what I sacrifice when I
pray to live, ask thy Son for the conversion of the friends of
my youth."

The shadows deepened till they were lost in gloom, and
only the light of the sanctuary lamp flickered before the altar.
The moon rose in the heavens till its pale light shone through
a window high up in the stone wall of the chapel, and lit with
a pallid glow the face of the monk still kneeling there. The
moon shone on and silvered the hill-sides, climbing higher be-
hind the clouds, till it pushed them aside and glided out to
peer again down into the chapel ; but now Ziribi, prostrate on
the altar steps, met its clear, cold radiance.

" What think you, Ennez, is it that road or this that will
take us to those loud-tongued Dominicans?"

" If I remember aright, the guide said to take the path
that wound up the hill," answered the young Moor. ,: :

" Let's ask the others ; there's no time to be lost chasing
wrong roads " ; and the two horsemen galloped back to meet
the armed company coming across the plain.

But no decisive voice settled the confusion until suddenly
the leader spurred his horse a few paces ahead and peered into
the forest, then turning in his saddle, he said : " Hush ! yonder
is one of the foes we seek. What does the friar out so late ?
We'll track him to his home. Spurs to your steeds, boys, for,
by Allah, he goes quickly ! "

"Think you not, Azraela, yon monk is turning us away
from the convent ? " said a younger Moor as he rode up to the
leader's side.

" Perhaps there are two paths, Betasho ; but," turning to

i8o A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [May,

Ennez, " is not the light, free step of the monk ahead like
Ziribi's ? Dost remember him ? I can see him that day as he
left me at the mosque ; his cloak blew round him like the
friar's beyond, and the same swinging gait took him away from
my view " ; and Azraela sighed as he rode.

Now again Betasho asserts that the monk is leading them
back to Cordova. But Azraela will not turn. His gaze is
riveted on the black figure ahead as though he would make
the past live again in the resemblance he sees.

"Wait here!" he shouted back; "I'll see the face of the
man ahead if I never make a Mohammedan."

Azraela was excited and did not notice that he never gained
on the figure before him, but hurried on as fast as he might
through the woods. Out over a plain he dashed just in time
to see the monk enter a wood on the left. He feels his horse
quiver beneath him as he digs spurs into his tired sides. The
monk has vanished within the forest and Azraela fears to lose
him, till through a break in the trees he sees him pause on a
rocky slope. His own steed can scarce reach the spot. At
the foot of the rocks he drops from his saddle and climbs.
There stands the monk on the jagged stones, his back toward
him. The pointed hood has fallen on his shoulders and his
carriage possesses a dignity that suggests power far more than
Azraela's armed form.

Azraela clanks his scimiter, but the monk heeds not the
noise. Impatient, he advances and touches him on the shoulder.

"Friar, I have followed thee to learn where lies thy
home ? "

The monk turned and the moonlight shone straight on his
face.

" Ziribi, 'tis thou ! " and Azraela would have fallen had not
Ziribi's arm upheld him.

" Yes," he answered, " for this night have I waited these
five years, Azraela."

"But, Ziribi, why this dress? Thou art a Moor."

" 'Tis because of my Moorish blood I wait for thee."

"Thou a monk! I came this very night to make the
Christians worship the prophet or die. Where hast thou been
these many years ? "

" Look," said Ziribi, and he pointed to a narrow path in
the distance winding round a hill like a thread across the land-
scape, " and that spire surmounts the tower of our chapel ; in
the morning take that road, you and your horsemen, in the

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 181

woods, and ere noon you'll rap the knocker at the cloister
door. We'll meet again. Azraela, dear heart, I did not forget
thee. This night God has answered my prayer."

" What mean you ? For what have you prayed ? "

" That you might understand. See, even now the veil is
torn away ? "

Over the whole scene a light as of a hundred moons was
spread. The bare branches of the trees with a last quick
rustle, like angels' wings, sank into silence, awaiting a beloved
Presence. The unwonted radiance converged around the rocky
mound and Azraela looked up to see the source of all this
glory. On the summit stood a Figure. Every line breathed
majesty, while the tender eyes looked with deep ineffable love
on Ziribi. The silver light bathed the dark-robed monk as he
knelt there in happiness, but the proud Moor stood in the
shadow without. At last a countenance of perfect beauty,
though marked with exquisite pain, turned toward Azraela.
He was forced to his knees. A voice which was sorrow incar-
nate spoke :

" My son, in my agony I saw thee, and thy unbelief didst
add to my bitter cup. On my cross a cry went up for thee,
and now behold for whom I weep."

Azraela looked to the west and saw the glittering mosque
of Cordova filled with his brethren shouting " Allah is god, and
Mohammed is his prophet ! " What foolishness it seemed I
" Like the Jews and the pagans of yesterday, they will not
believe. I weep for those that disown my sacrifice ; but the
heart of man cannot look on me glorified without loving, and
for this, my child, bring me thy brethren."

At that divine commission the heart of the Moslem awak-
ened and he knew his Redeemer.

A trained mind free from the autocrat Prejudice has reason
alert to absorb truth wherever it appears. For others if the
jewel lies in a hostile camp it is disguised, so that though
they capture the enemy their warped eyes find not the
" pearl of great price."

When it sees fit, Infinite Justice and Infinite Mercy points
truth out, in a flash, lying there perhaps among a thousand of
things that birth and race and custom had scorned.

As the Moor gazed the vision left him, and he turned in
wonderment to Ziribi ; but he too had gone, and, more in the
other world than this, Azraela sank to the ground unconscious.

The morning sun finds Ennez with his leader.

j82 A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. [May,

" Ennez, let us be off. He showed me the path to the
monastery, and by noon we'll meet him again ; my soul is
thrilled to the depths and I would not delay."

" Of whom, Azraela, dost thou speak ? "

"Of Ziribi, of course."

"Was he the monk in the woods?"

"Yes," answered Azraela dreamily, as he turned and gave a
peculiar low whistle which brought his Arabian whinnying to
him from his browse in the field.

The mysteries Azraela had witnessed left their impress in
the preoccupied greetings with which he met the rest of his
band, and the steadfast way he pursued the path pointed out
to him, though the tower was no longer visible. The little
company wondered what dream in his sleep on the hillside had
changed the spirit of their leader. Azraela said not a word of
boasting triumph pow on their journey toward the monks.
But yesterday, as he looked over his followers to judge of their
strength and equipments, he was the very embodiment of the
character he had chosen.

His firm seat in the saddle and muscular frame physically
seconded the temperament his face portrayed. Iron will showed
in the strong jaw, though an acute observer would notice that
the chin, slightly thrust forward so that the lower lip closed
tight on the upper, indicated obstinacy rather than the higher
determination lent to the countenance by the repression of self-
will. To his companions his wondrous night was a sealed book,
but Azraela had perused it well, and the man of yesterday was
•changed for ever.

The sun took its appointed course, blazing on the frozen
ground till here and there it burst the icy bonds of a tiny
stream, which, with wild, glad laughter at its freedom, babbled
on over its pebbly bed. The cavalcade paused not till it
reached the monastery.

Yes, the sun was high in the heavens. Ziribi had said it
would be noon.

With a nervous jerk of the knocker Azraela raps on the
door. No answer comes.. The place looks deserted, and, as the
clatter of their horses' hoofs dies away, it leaves the atmos-
phere strangely quiet. But as Ennez is about to knock again a
sound breaks the stillness. " Miserere mei, Deus " sounds on
their listening ears.

" Let's around to the chapel ; they're at their orisons," said
Betasho ; and, tying their horses to the neighboring trees, a

1896.] A TALE OF ANDALUSIA. 183

strange group sought entrance at the Dominican chapel. A few
had grasped their scimiters, but Azraela's was thrown on the
lawn without, as with head uncovered he entered, first, the open
door.

The noon-day sun shone through the windows and the door,
illuminating the frescoed walls. An old friar's willing brush had
pictured there the great scenes of his Master's life, and his heart
had added to his skill till the painted walls were eloquent.
Clouds of incense half hid the altar, except where the shim-
mering candles pierced the fragrant veil. Mass was over, and
the three priests with the cross before them stepped down from
the altar, and, as they chanted, incensed a bier. Azraela sought
among the cowled heads to discern Ziribi, but the poise of the
pointed hoods must have shown some difference to an anxious
eye ; he was not there. In an agony of suspense Azraela rushed
up the aisle to the head of the bier, and with one movement
tore away the cloth and looked at the face reposing there.

" Ziribi ! " was the only sound, but, as that cry rent the chapel,
Azraela fell across the cold, calm form. A white-haired priest
gently raised him from the bier. As he lifted his eyes they
turned towards the altar, then wandered back to the dear face.
They had met again. Slowly he comprehended the meaning of
it all, and with the utmost reverence he bent and kissed the
pale brow, then turned to the monks and said :

" Cease your lament. Learn from me that the soul of him
you mourn lives in heaven," and in awestruck tones, as though
relating God's affairs, Azraela told his vision on the rocky
slope.

" We are the conquest of his life. But yesterday we sought
you out as enemies. He brings us suppliants to- your altar.
O Ziribi ! when my hour is spent, thou wilt meet me again
with our Lord "; and Azraela sank on his knees beside the
bier.

A string vibrates on the air as a familiar hand draws the
bow until the grand notes of a " Gloria in excelsis Deo " flood
the chapel, and monk and Moor, kneeling there together, tes-
tify Ziribi's victory.

PERE EYMARD,
Founder of the Congregation of the Most Blessed Sacrament.

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST AND HIS
APOSTOLATE.

BY E. LUMMIS.

OW much the good God has loved me ! He has
led me by the hand to the Society of the Most
Holy Sacrament. All his graces have been a
preparation for this, and the Eucharist has been
the dominant thought of my whole life ! "
We have before us a picture of the zealous Apostle of the
Eucharist in this our day, Pere Julien Eymard, founder of twa
religious orders : of the Priests' Eucharistic League — Pretres
Adorateurs — and of kindred associations and works that were
to reach all classes of society, and unite them in loving adora-
tion before the tabernacle.

A most ascetic face, truly, consumed as it were by an in-
terior fire, and bearing the impress of an indomitable will and
unflinching mortification of self. Yet in life the strength and
severity of his countenance were ever softened by a smile and ex-

1896.]

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

185

pression of benign and winning sweetness. We would fain, did
space permit, portray something of the interior nobility of soul
that made him what he was — that laid, in entire annihilation of
self, the foundation of a personal influence vast and universal.

Peter Julien Eymard was born at La Mure d'Isere, in the south
of France, on February 4, 1811. His first baby steps followed
his pious mother in her daily visits to the church, and his infant
soul turned to the tabernacle as an opening flower to the sun.

He loved the Eucharist almost as soon as he was conscious
of his own existence, and at four years of age envies his elder
sister's frequent
Communions, and
begs her to pray
that he may be
" gentle, and pure,
and good, and
may one day be-
come a priest"
Thus early do
the impressions
of Divine grace
manifest them-
selves. The Eu-
charist is ever the
law of his life, and
once a priest him-
self, he yearns to
sanctify the priest-
hood, and to light
in the very sanc-
tuary the undying
flame that shall
burn before the
tabernacle.

Though blest
with a God-given
innocence, Pere
Eymard attained
the height of
sanctity, as all must, by continual effort. It was to him but a
greater incentive to perfection, and the record of his early
years tells of his ardor for the sacraments, his unflinching self-
restraint, and his rigorous penance.

R. P. TESNIERE, SUPERIOR-GENERAL IN 1890.

1 86

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

[May,

The remembrance of his First Communion brings tears to his
eyes thirty years after, for it was in that ineffable moment of his
first interview with our Lord that he promised to become a priest.

There were
many obstacles to
be overcome ere
his vocation could
be carried out, but
at last, after three
or four years of
edifying prepara-
tion in the semi-
nary at Grenoble,
he was one of the
first admitted to
the tonsure, a
mark of superior
virtue as well as
excellence in his
studies.

His notes of
retreat have been
preserved, and
one can follow
step by step his
growth in grace,
and wonder at the
persistent and he-
roic efforts he
makes to detach
EXPOSITION OF AVENUE FRIEDLAND, PARIS. u- V»earf from all

earthly affections, that he may be wholly fashioned and moulded
to the Master's will.

The Eucharistic grace is marked and ever increasing. He
lives, as it were, in the shadow of the tabernacle, and traces to
it every inspiration of his life.

He was ordained in 1834, and labored for five years in
Chatte, and later in Monteynard, as parish priest, where his
memory is still held in loving veneration by the poor, among
whom he " went about doing good."

But he felt a higher call, and entered the Oblates of Mary,
then recently founded. The rude trials inseparable from all
beginnings, by a merciful design of Providence, thus prepared
him for those through which later he was to lead others.

1896.]

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

187

He rose to eminence in his order and was made provincial^
but neither honors nor varied and engrossing responsibilities
ever weakened his love for his Divine Master. But now the
graces of his life were to bear greater fruit. His life-long at-
traction pursues him. He longs to bring the whole world to
our Lord in the Eucharist, by preaching, by interior direction.
He promises henceforth to devote himself to this end.

"One afternoon in January, 1851," relates Pere Eymard a
few days before his death, " I went to Notre Dame de Four-
vieres. One thought absorbed me : our Lord in the Blessed
Sacrament had no religious order of men to honor him in this
Mystery of Love, no religious body making the Eucharist the
one object to which their lives should be consecrated. One is
needed. I prom-
ised Mary to de-
vote myself to
carrying out this
idea." He added,
with indescribable
emotion, " Oh,
what hours I
passed there ! "

" Did you then
•see Our Lady,
that you were so
strongly impress-
ed?" some one
asked.

This was a
vital question.
He had not ex-
pected it. A
yes " rose to his
lips, but was half
repressed through
humility. They
dared not ques-
tion him further
as to the particu-
lars of this vision,
but from that

MONSTRANCE AT AVENUE FRIEDLAND, PARIS.

moment, as he continued to relate, he devoted himself to the
labor of founding an order expressly devoted to the Blessed

1 88

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

[May.

Sacrament with an ardor and perseverance that overcame all

obstacles.

Four years were to elapse before the foundation of the new

order — years of
painful suspense
and trial.

On one hand,
Pere Eymard was
restrained by the
rules of prudence,
of religious obe-
dience, the fear
of delusion, the
thought of his own
unworthiness and
frail health. On
the other, drawn
by an irresistible
attraction, and
dreading to be
unfaithful to the
call of God. He
submitted the idea
of the order and
a draft of the
Rules to His Holi-
ness Pius IX., who
blessed and com-
mended the work,
saying the church
had need of it.

But the end
was not far off.
First came how-
ever, to Pere
He must renounce

HABIT OF THE SERVANTS OF THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT.
Eymard, the greatest sacrifice of his life.

his vocation as Marist, and break asunder the ties of seventeen
years of mutual toil and religious affection. His nature was in
the Garden of Olives. When the final moment came he was
sent by his superiors to make a retreat in order to decide
the question that had cost him such terrible mental struggles.
Three bishops were to judge the matter. Pere Eymard put him-
self wholly into the hands of God, submitting to every possibility.

TOL. LXIII, — 13

190 THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST. [May,

But when the difficulties seemed insurmountable, God him-
self cleared them away. The three venerable prelates came to
an unanimous decision, and declared that God's will was tob
clearly manifested to admit of any further doubt, and that
henceforward Pere Eymard must devote himself to this work
alone.

He had at first only two companions, Peter and John, but
the supper-room was ready. The Archbishop of Paris, most
anxious to assist the work, gave them a temporary dwelling in
a house formerly occupied by the Ladies of the Sacred Heart.

Here the " Religious of the Most Holy Sacrament " began
their work like true apostles, sharing the absolute poverty of
their Divine Master. Their first years were marked by trials
of every kind, but Pius IX. blessed anew the work and its
author, enriching it with precious indulgences, and signing the
laudatory brief with his own hand.

The object of the society was to honor the Holy Eucharist
by means of the perpetual exposition. The religious lived to
adore, to honor, to serve our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament,
and were It taken away they would cease to be. They were
not to refuse all external apostolate, but were to confine them-
selves to those works bearing more directly upon their '.one
noble end.

Jesus Christ, though annihilated and concealed under the
sacramental veils, is yet King of Heaven and Earth. His chil-
dren, therefore, should seek by their interior sacrifices and
external honor to restore to him the homage he has sacrificed
for our love, and continue upon earth a service that corre-
sponds as far as'possible to the glorious adoration of the saints
and angels in heaven. " Our Lord, will be taken from his
tabernacle. He will be exposed. He will reign. His religious,
therefore, form his court upon earth. He is the Master, and
they are the servants whose sole occupation will be to minister
to His Divine Person."

They are not to share the toils of the missionary, or devote
themselves to any absorbing ministry. " They only serve the
Royal Presence, and take care that the Master is never left alone"

Pere Eymard's religious meet in common, without any privi-
leges, following the model of family life, and united solely by
the bond of Divine Love.

Adoration is their distinctive duty, and all others are sub-
servient to this. Each religious devotes two hours during the

1896.]

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

191

day, and one at night, .to adoration, the Blessed Sacrament
being perpetually exposed.

The Divine Office is recited standing and in choir. There
are no severe penances or fasts, but the spirit of the order is
that of entire self-annihilation. One must be always and every-
where at the Master's ser-
vice, must refer to him all
personal honor, talents, and
distinction. The religious
are ever encouraged to give
to our Lord in the Blessed
Sacrament the homage of
a love that reaches the he-
roism of self-sacrifice as a
natural expression of duty.
" To think always of the
Master, to work for the
Master, with one's eyes
ever upon the Master, and
not upon earthly things."

To the silent homage of
the heart is joined an apos-
tolate of zeal for the reli-
gious of the Most Holy
Sacrament. They are to
spread throughout the world
the incendiary spark lighted
in their own hearts and to
bring all classes of society
under the influence of the
Sun of divine love.

By the work of the " First
Communion of Poor Adults"

Pere Eymard brought to our Lord numbers of children and
young persons who had passed the age when they could have
entered the parochial catechism classes, or were unable to at-
tend by reason of the long hours of work in the factories and
shops. " The number of persons who have not made their First
Communion is very great," he used to say ; " and a young man
who has not this safeguard is in great danger. He has no re-
straint over his passions. Later he becomes a bad father, and
often a dangerous citizen." Pere Eymard sought out these
poor souls, and after developing their stunted intelligences, and

TABERNACLE DOOR AT MOTHER CHURCH AT AVE,
FRIEDLAND, PARIS. — SYMBOLICAL GROUP REP-
RESENTING THE WORKS OF THE SOCIETY.

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

[May,

teaching them the truths of religion, obtained from their employ-
ers a short holiday of a day or two, and gave them a retreat.
Then, dressed in holiday apparel, provided by charitable hearts,
they made their First Communion, and, after a little feast for the
body, went away rejoicing. This work has borne most consol-
ing fruits. The children, later, bring their parents, or an elder
sister or brother, for the blessing of a Communion, and are en-
couraged to return every year to perform their Paschal duty
in the chapel so full of sweet memories.

By means of the " Aggregation of the Blessed Sacrament "
and the Guard of Honor Pere Eymard opened a vast field for
cultivation. By these associations the laity were led to share
in the Perpetual Adoration, by giving an hour weekly or month-
ly to this gracious duty. These adorers were further sanctified
by means of sermons and pious leaflets, and encouraged to de-
vote themselves especially to Eucharistic works, to assist in
preparing the poor for First Communion, and to provide for the

INTERIOR OF CHURCH OF THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT, MONTREAL.

administration of the Viaticum. These associations have already
found favor in our own country. Besides the members of the
Aggregation, as represented by the house of the Fathers of the
Most Holy Sacrament in Montreal, the Church of St. Francis

1896.]

THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST.

193

Xavier, New York, has registered in four months nearly 900 per-
sons making a. weekly adoration at consecutive hours, and the
Rev. Father Smythe, of New Bedford, Mass., counts in the

ALTAR AND EXPOSITION OF MONTREAL CHURCH.

Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament 2,200 members. Pere
Eymard founded, in 1851, a religious order for women under
the title of "Servants" of the Most Holy Sacrament, with the
same end and rule as the Priests', and sharing the favor of the
perpetual adoration. It is, however, a wholly contemplative
order.

But the priesthood was ever his first and dearest affection.
Besides providing a shelter in his religious houses for those
whom he called " the veterans of the sacred ministry," and giv-
ing retreats to the clergy, he longed to secure to consecrated
hearts a means of keeping alive the spirit of prayer, the divine
food of recollection, which, amid the labors of parish duty,

194 THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST. [May,

they are so seldom permitted to enjoy. Thus was founded the
Priests' Eucharistic League, numbering in 1894 29,310 inscribed
members. Of. these 360 belonged to the United States. The
American members, now numbering 2,500, held their first con-
vention at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana, in August,
1894, and this meeting has resulted in the Eucharistic Congress
at Washington. The association unites the priesthood in the
fraternal bond of Jesus Christ, requiring them to spend one
hour every week in adoration before the tabernacle, leading
them to come from the Eucharist as Moses from Sinai, or the
Apostles from the Cenacle, full of fire to announce the Divine
Word.

Pere Eymard died in 1868, worn out with his labors and his
zeal. His body rested in death before the very altar at La
Mure where as a little child, coming to " listen to Jesus," he
had been won to his service for ever. But in thirty years his
order has spread throughout Europe and found a congenial soil
in America. There are five houses of the order in France, and
others at Rome, Brussels, and Montreal.

It is consoling to be told that in Paris, where wickedness
and infidelity so abound, the stone steps leading to the Chapel

PERE CHAUVET, RELIGIOUS OF THE CONGREGATION OF THE MOST BLESSED SACRA-
MENT, WHO DIED IN THE ODOR OF SANCTITY.

of the Perpetual Adoration are continually worn away by the
thronging multitude of adorers, rich as well as poor, who

1896.] THE PRIEST OF THE EUCHARIST. 195

haunt the sanctuary, and that gentlemen of rank and fortune
share the nocturnal adoration with the poor artisan. " One
hears confessions there from morning to night," remarked one
of the fathers to me not long ago.

It was my good fortune recently to visit the church of the
order in Montreal, of which the accompanying photographs give
some impression. It was crowded to the doors. The high altar,
resplendent with flowers and lights, was a brilliant sight. In
front of the regal mantle an imposing ostensorium told of the
Divine King, ever waiting to bless his children. Within the
sanctuary priests were kneeling in adoration, while outside the
railing members of the Guard of Honor, distinguished by the
white ribbon and medal of service, shared their watch. The
soft strains of the " Tantum Ergo " trembled in the air. But
far above all evanescent beauty of ceremonial was the deep
and lasting impression of the Living Presence of the King —
loved and publicly reverenced as became the reality of Faith.
It was the central, the crowning mystery of religion ac-
centuated in a manner that must eventually leave its impress
upon the times. There is a future for the Eucharistic devotion
in America, and the fire is already kindled. Pere Eymard
sleeps in peace, but his spirit lives on in the order he has
founded. What could be more impressive , than his almost
dying words to his loved children : " What does it matter if I
am taken away? Have you not always the Holy Eucharist?"

196

BLESSED MARY.

[May,

BLESSED MARY.

BY JULIAN E/JOHNSTONE.

THE pale silver light of a soft

southern night.
Is less bright than the light

of her presence ;
And the lay of the lark, as he

scatters the dark,
Is less sweet than the laugh

of her pleasance ;
And her mien and the

sheen
Of her eyes show the

queen,
Though her garb is as rough as a peasant's.

And the gold of her hair, and the gold of her fair

And bewitchingly beautiful features,
Make of Mary the light, make of Mary the bright,
The most lissom and lovely of creatures ;
And the rose of her mouth,
Like the rose of the south,
Makes her sweet lips the purest of preachers.

Oh ! the forehead of pearl of this amber-haired girl,

And her eyes full as blue as a beryl,

And their long silken fringe, and her cheeks' rosy tinge,
And her figure as straight as a ferule,
All have entered my heart
And refined every part,
And have made a life bloom that was sterile.

198 BLESSED MARY, [May,

A diamond of blue is less perfect or true,

Is less pure than my star of the ocean ;
And the smile is as bright as an alexandrite,
Of the lady that owns my devotion.
Oh ! the beautiful doe,
Nor the cygnet can show,
So much grace as my Mary in motion.

I can see the maid now with her low, pensive brow,

And her round, open throat, and the jasper
Of rosy-red lips that are pressed to the tips

Of the fingers of Him who would clasp her :
The most beautiful Child,
Little Jesus the Mild,
Who is putting His arms up to grasp her.

I can hear her low voice, and my pulses rejoice

As they beat to the musical measure ;
I can see the swift blush, as the Child with a rush
Flings His arms round His beautiful treasure ;
As He laughs in His glee,
While the Maiden Marie
Sweetly smileth to see the Boy's pleasure.

I can see the warm light of. her eyes in the night,

As she looks at me out of the glooming ;
And her young piquant face, all illumined with grace,
Sets the flowers of my heart all a-blooming ;
And the scent of her hair,
Floating. out on the air,
Is the violets, the night-winds perfuming.

And I press the pink tips of her fingers to lips

That have learned to belaud her and love her ;
And I thrill to the touch of her hand overmuch,
With a joy born of Heaven above her ;
While the Seraphim sing,
Silver wing unto wing,
And the Cherubim round her head hover.

1896.]

BLESSED MARY.

199

Oh ! what is the worth of the beauties of earth

Compared unto that of my jewel ?
Or what is the grace of a beautiful face
If the heart be corrupted and cruel ?
I cry " fie ! " on the light
Of an eye like the night,
When the life is a dark one and dual.

Give, give me the maid of the amber-bright braid,

Sweet Mary, the virginal mother :
My dove and my love, pure as heaven above,
In the eyes of our Saviour and Brother.
Oh ! the Maiden Marie
Is the true-love of me,
And I want not the love of another.

200 Ho w WE PACKED THE "MISSIONARY Box." [May,
HOW WE PACKED THE "MISSIONARY BOX."

BY ROBERT J. ANDERSON.

ELL, if thet ain't wuth more'n ninepence then I
ain't no judge. Why, you can't get stockings
like thet in Shepard Norwell's for less'n six
shillings, and these was knit by old Miss' Kings-
bury. I know when she knit 'em, too. 'Twas
jest before the Mexican War, and thet was the most outrageous
war 'twas ever trumped up for nothin' 'tall, 'cept to make this
country bigger'n 'twas. Land sake ! it's big enough now, good-
ness knows. I don't know as I object much how bigger it
gets, if the people is all God-fearing. Well, Josiah Kingsbury
he was a man that was terribly fond of adventure, and when
he heard of the war down in Mexico, there wan't nothing thet
could hold him back. His wife she cried and took on dread-
ful ; and his mother she come over, and she reasoned and
argued, but it wan't the least mite of use. So Miss' Kings-
bury she sent for her sister — she 'twas Mary Ann Brummitt —
and she come, and she argued, and she reasoned, and at last
she stormed and scolded.

" Well, Josiah Kingsbury wan't to be moved by such means
as them, and he jest held up his head as peart as any of 'em ;
and when they was all through, he says, says he : ' Now, Jessie,
I'm a-going, and I'm a-coming back a general.'

" And I believe he would-a-too, but he got killed down in
some outlandish place among them Mexicans, and so he never
come back ; but General Scott he said that Capting Kingsbury
was as brave a man as ever he see.

" I do wonder how she could part with thet pair of stock-
ings."

The ladies were assembled in the "sitting-room" of Mrs.
Stone's house, in the old town of Shakum, in one of the New
England States. Their purpose was to pack the " missionary
box."

The Congregational church in the town of Shakum was at
this time in a flourishing condition, and the ladies who were
assembled on this October morning were well known as church-
members to all the Conference round for their charity to the

1896.] How WE PACKED THE " MISSIONARY Box." 201

poor, and the large annual subscriptions they made to the
American Board. Ever since the migration had begun in the
thirties to " the West," they had regularly sent their "annual
box " to the missionaries " out West." The packing of this box
was attended with a great deal of formality, and a hearty
turkey dinner which accompanied it was not the least impor-
tant feature of the occasion. The box was regularly packed on
the last Thursday of October ; this day of the week being
chosen because " most of the clutter of the first part of the
week was got out of the way by Thursday," as Miss Goodnow
said.

About six weeks before this the minister would announce in
the meeting on Sunday morning, and again in the afternoon,
the following notice : " The missionary box will be packed at
Mrs. Stone's the last Thursday of October. All those people
who have donations of clothing for the missionaries and their
families will send them before that date to Mrs. Stone's house."
Then perhaps the " Missionary Hymn " would be sung, and I
remember on more than one occasion a sermon was preached
on missions.

The bundles and packages kept coming ,in daily, and .a
special closet was kept set apart for their reception ; there they
were stored unopened until the eventful day which was ap-
pointed for their packing arrived. These packages contained
clothing both old and new, worn and sound, but in all cases
fit for use, and, as we shall see, much of it representing a great
deal of self-denial. A good Yankee housewife would have
despised herself had she sent anything for the " missionary
box " which would have been rejected by the committee.

What a day it was when they assembled at Mrs. Stone's
house in Shakum ! Strong, burly women, some of them hitch-
ing their own horses in the sheds near the Stones' house, and
politely refusing assistance from the boys who were ready
enough to help them if required. At last by ten o'clock they
would be all there, and the work of untying bundles, putting
strings in shape for future use, and the pricing of each article
kept them all very busy. There was the great, generous, huge-
mouthed box itself, looking as if its capacity was too large to
be filled, a fitting symbol of the big-heartedness of these gen-
erous people. This box, with a pair of splendid blankets, was
the gift of Mr. Stone, who was a wholesale dealer in dry goods
in the city.

Such was, and no doubt still is, in many a town in New

202 How WE PACKED THE " MISSIONARY Box"

England the annual custom ; and many of my readers will
recognize old friends around the table at Mrs. Stone's before
we part company. Mrs. Stone was president of the " Sewing
Circle," and had been chairman of the Committee on the Mis-
sionary Box for years ; and on this day, when old Mrs. Kings-
bury's stockings had developed such a flood of recollections
from Mrs. Wheelock, she was trying to preserve her gravity of
countenance, and at the same time endeavoring to keep a record
of each article, and the value thereof, in a little book which she
had convenient for that purpose. This was the invariable cus-
tom, and the reason given was this : " The Merchants' Dispatch
must know the value of the contents of the box,- and so we
have to tell them as accurately as we can."

I believe some of these ladies would have felt guilty of
falsehood if they had put a value on the box without the trou-
ble of pricing each separate article. I will not say either that
another reason for estimating so carefully the value of their box
was that they might be able to exult over, if possible, " the
largest box in the Conference being sent from Shakum."

"Well now," said my aunt, "I want to know if Mrs. Lin-
coln hain't sent that barege dress that she had made the fall
when Tom Thumb was to the Town Hall ! She's got so fat
late years she can't wear it no more, and she was awful choice
of it too. I see her the last time, I guess, she ever had it on.
'Twas that summer the lightning struck so many places down
back of our house in the woods. I was out one day in the
middle of July, and 'twas hotter'n mustard, and the sweat run .
like rain. I met Miss' Lincoln up on the new road by the old
red house, and she did look uncomfortable I can tell you. I
actually thought that she'd just burst right straight through
that dress."

" And I do declare if it ain't about as good as new. She
set a store by this I know, and I should think she would hate
to part with it," remarked Miss Whitney, as she put it aside
after a careful survey of the garment through her gold-bowed
spectacles, and from between the false curls that hung like two
bunches of black-walnut shavings beside her cheeks. " It's just
in apple-pie order. There ain't a moth-hole nor a worn breadth
in it. Why, it must be worth ten dollars, Mrs. Stone ; what do-
you think?"

" Here are some of poor old Widow Hemenway's stockings
that she knit herself," said Mrs. Tarbox. " I was there the
other day, and she is as chipper as a squirrel in nut-time. You

1896.] How WE PACKED THE "MISSIONARY Box" 203

wouldn't think anything about her being blind to hear her talk.
I told her that these stockings was worth seventy-five cents,
and she just laughed at the idea. Well, says I, if they ain't
worth that much, you'll just have to let the Lord price 'em,
because you're a-giving 'em to the Lord, and he will pay you
for 'em, and a good price too. Then she just looked kind of
solemn for a minute, and said: 'You don't suppose the Lord
cares anything about blue yarn stockings, do you ? ' '

While these little conversations and anecdotes were being re-
hearsed in various parts of the room Mrs. Stone made her notes
as the different articles were appraised, and also made sundry
trips to the kitchen, to see after the dinner. About half-past
eleven the work was suspended, and a short rest taken. The
children came in from school, bashful and blushing to hear the
comments made by the kindly women, who were glad to see
them. Then all went out to dinner.

There was in Mrs. Stone's family the enfant terrible of
whom she could never say, " There you are." This was
Arthur.

The day before this packing day, when his mother was
making a pudding such as only her skilled hands or those of some
of the same family could make, he was there. His many ques-
tions became annoying, and at last in an unfortunate moment
his mother made a remark that sent him away fast enough,
but which he reproduced the next day, to her great consterna-
tion.

Dinner progressed ; the boys had picked their drum-sticks ;
the ladies had praised the cooking of • the turkey, to Mrs.
Stone's delight, but at the same time thinking in their hearts
that their own method was far better. They were generous
eaters too, and turkey, with potatoes, Hubbard squash, onions,
celery, cranberry sauce, with the rich giblet-gravy and stuffing,
made a good foundation for the pies and pudding which came
on for a "second course." The ladies were all helped, and all
the children had their share of pudding, when Mrs. Stone
turned to her youngest : " Arthur, my child, will you have
some pudding?" Every one turned to see the rosy-cheeked
lad ; and he in his high, soft voice replied, " No, I thank you.
I saw it made."

A curious expression of the face was observed on more
than one of those at the table.

" I was mortified most to death. What possessed you to
say such a thing?" said his mother that night.

204 How WE PACKED THE u MISSIONARY Box." [May,

" Why, mother," said the boy naively, " you told me yester-
day to go out of the kitchen, because if I was round when
you were making things and saw them being made, I wouldn't
want to eat them. And I didn't." What reply could be made
to this?

Later in the afternoon, when the box was about full, there
came out of a newspaper parcel a long-tailed broadcloth coat,
which seemed to be quite new. It was " a real fine garment,"
as Mrs. Eaton truly said ; but where it came from was a mat-
ter of conjecture until the hero of the dinner-table was ques-
tioned. He asserted that " old maid Hains " had left it at the
door, and that he had taken it and put it in the closet, and
forgotten to tell anything about it.

" But," said Mrs. Button, " how did she come fby it ? It
does seem queer that old maid Hains should have a man's
coat to give away."

"Yes, of course it does seem kind of peculiar; but I know
the history of that coat," said Mrs. Theobald, a good-natured,
fat and rosy old lady of seventy-five ; " and more'n that, it's a
mighty interesting history too."

When Mrs. Theobald told a story it was always a good
one, and she possessed the rare faculty of not telling the same
one more than once. So she was listened to with greater
attention.

" You see, when old maid Hains was a girl, she was the
liveliest and spryest of all them Hainses, and they were a
wide-awake crowd too. She was a regular harum-scarum thing
when she got on a horse, side-saddle too ; and without any-
thing but a halter she'd make that animal gallop and jump
like all possessed over ditches and fences, just like a man.
She was engaged to a young man by the name of Rice, from
over to Medway. His father was Aaron Rice, who was married
to her 'twas Lucy Starbuck, whose father, Sam'l Starbuck, kept
the cider-mill near Grout's Corners. He made good cider too,
and father used to say it was strong enough to draw a ton load
of hay. Well, as I was saying, old maid Hains that is now, she
was engaged to Stephen Rice, of Medway. They do say they
met at the cider-mill first, and that it was a case of love at
first sight. So whenever Mr. Hains had to go over to the
Corners, Patience she had to go too ; and somehow or another
Stephen Rice he always was there. Things went on this way
for a year or so, till one day young Rice he came a driving all
the way from Medway up to Salem and to the Hainses. He

1896.] How WE PACKED THE "MISSIONARY Box" 205

had no end of bear's grease on his hair, and tallow on his best
cowhide boots, and his clothes looked as nice as if they'd just
come out of the band-box. He drove up, hitched his horse to
the fence, and went right into the barn, where Mr. Hains was
to work in the hay. He didn't waste no time, and says he :
' Mr. Hains, I just drove over from Medway to see you on a
little matter of business.' Mr. Hains he got right down from
the haymow, and came out into the yard to see what the
matter was.

" Now, the Hainses and the Rices both of 'em set great
store by themselves. Miss' Rice's great-grandmother on her
mother's side was an Edwards, and Mr. Hains's wife's mother
she was a Mather, some sort of relation to the eminent divine
of that name.

" So when Stephen Rice asked Mr. Hains for Patience, he
said : ' Come right in, young man, and see mother and Patience.'
So in they went, and there was Miss' Hains peeling apples for
pie, and Patience, with her sleeves rolled up, making pastry.
They both jumped up, and Mr. Hains he said : ' Mother, here's
young Mr. Rice wants to know if he can have our Patience
there — I don' know as you can get along without her unless
you keep a hired girl.'

" Miss' Hains she just put her apron up to her face and she
cried, and Patience she ran right out of the room. Well, the
upshot of it all was that after a little bit of haggling, which I
guess was more for form's sake than sincerity, the marriage
was agreed upon, and Stephen Rice he drove back to Medway
after dinner the happiest man you ever see.

" I remember the Sunday they was cried in meeting, and
all the people craned their necks to look at the Hains's pew ;
but Patience she wan't there. Well, they did make the great-
est preparations for the wedding because it was going to be in
the First Church, and everybody from far and near was going.
Patience and her mother they went to the city by the coach
that used to run then on what we call the ' old turnpike.'
Stephen Rice he met them in Boston, and went shopping with
them, and did considerable courting too I guess. There was
people sewing up at the Hains's for a whole week before the
wedding was to come off.

" Well, the day came at last, and a fine hot day in July it

was. All the church windows were open, and there wan't a

vacant seat except the two front ones for the wedding party.

There hadn't been such a crowd in the church since old Priest

VOL. LXIII. — 14

2o6 How WE PACKED THE u MISSIONARY Box" [May,

Howe was installed there twenty-five years before. The new
organ was a-playing, and the instruments was a-going on doing
their best to render good music, like the ' Ode on science/
' Fly like a youthful hart or roe,' and a lot more.

"At last old Mr. Howe came out and sat down on the
platform behind the pulpit. Every one expected that they had
come, and turned their heads to see. But there wan't any one
there. Pretty soon Mr. Hains's best carriage came driving up,
and in they all come and went up to the minister's pew. Mr.
Hains spoke to Deacon Strong, and he shook his head. He
was asking if the Rices had come yet. Well, they waited for
nigh onto an, hour, and then my big brother, who told me this
story, and Jim Armstrong, who married her that was Rebecca
Carter, they got on horseback and started off to see where the
bridegroom was. They took the old path to Medway, and
near Eames's old red house they met the whole family of the
Rices with the dead body of Stephen.

" It seems he was bound to ride horseback so as to get
there before the rest of the family, and the horse threw him
off in some way, and there he was lying dead in the road with
the horse near by when the rest of the family come al'ong.

" I don't think I will ever forget the excitement. Mr. Hains
was called out first, and then he took out Patience and was
going to tell her that something had happened ; but before he
could help it she saw Stephen's dead body. She gave just one
look at it, and said, ' Perhaps it is better so,' and they took
her home.

"They carried Stephen into the church and laid him down
on the communion-table in front of the pulpit, and Mr. Howe
he preached like one inspired, on Sudden Death, for three-
quarters of an hour. Then the choir sang:

" ' How long, dear Saviour, oh ! how long

Shall that bright hour delay?
. Fly swifter round, ye wheels of time,
And bring the welcome day.'

" Patience, she went home and went to work as if nothing
had happened. When she stood up the next Sunday in church
she was dressed all in black, just like she dresses now. They
say she never smiled again. That's over sixty years ago."

While this story was telling Mrs. Eaton had found a lit-
tle scrap of paper in a pocket of the coat. Can anything

1896.]

CUPID 's COMING.

207

escape the eye of a Yankee housekeeper ? It contained these
words :

" I have kept this coat in memory of one whom I loved.
And as it has kept my heart warm toward him, so may it keep
your body warm, whoever may receive it. P. H."

" There, that just shows I was telling the truth. That is
Stephen Rice's wedding coat ; the one he had on when he was
killed."

Mrs. Stone remarked as she placed it on the top of all the
other things in the box :

" There are hearts going out to the missionaries as well as
clothing."

CUPID'S COMING.

BY WALTER LECKY.

YOUNG man sat,

Of this and that

To think, beneath a shady tree
When tit-a-tat
And pit-a-pat

A little elf came running free.

His rounded head

To curls a-wed,
His talking eyes of merry blue,

And by his side

A quiver hide,
From whence an arrow dart he drew.

Fie, fie ! the shame,

But true the aim,
He cleft the youngster's heart in twain.

And from that day,

So legends say,
Date all our castles built in Spain.

NAVAJO CAPTAIN TOM, FORT DEFIANCE.

WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT.

BY M. J. RIORDAN.

ATTLESNAKES, tarantulas, centipedes, bron-
chos, Gila monsters, horned toads, cactuses,
manzanitas, Spanish daggers, sand-dunes, deserts,
mirages, scalps, war-whoops, savages — how spon-
taneously these horrors associate themselves in
the popular mind with the word Arizona ! It may not be
truthfully denied that each one of the desolations enumerated is
perfectly at home in one part or another of the vast Territory,

1896.] WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT. 209

though many of them are languishing and soon will have
perished from the earth.

THE PASSING OF THE NOBLE SAVAGE.

The Indian group, for instance, is fast passing away. War-
whoops are scarce articles even now, and of no commercial
value except in literary trades. Scalps are becoming more
numerous, but, in the present year of grace, they are used to
conceal the shafting and cogs and friction-pulleys in the head,
instead of gracing, as in days gone by, the handsome tennis-
belts one time affected by the suave Apache. The Indian
himself is with us yet, but not so ostentatiously as a few years
ago. Then he was a mightily important factor in the life of
every white man in the Territory ; now he becomes an object
of remark in much the same manner as the weather does. In
those days if the Apache or Hualapai told the settler to ride
with his face toward the tail of his broncho, the settler obeyed ;
if the Indian said "Git," the settler forthwith "got." But the
whirligig of time has brought a new order of things, and now »
the Apache and the Hualapai and the Mojave and the Supai
and the Navajo and the Hopi are but slightly in evidence.
They serve merely as a dash of color on the landscape, as a
novelty for the entertainment of the1 sentimental traveller, or as
a thorn in the otherwise comfortable berth of the Honorable
Secretary of the Interior. As an element of fear, they enter
into the mind of the fin de siecle Arizonian to about the same
degree that the Fiji Islander does in the mind of the New
York swell.

It is surprising how quickly events take on the air of anti-
quity in these our rapid times. So distant now seems the
barbarity of the Apache outbreaks to the majority of our peo-
ple that I doubt very much whether the name Indian would do
respectable service as a bogey with which to frighten children.
The day of the aborigine is indeed past. All our thought of
him is covered with the merciful haze of time, which in his case,
as in so many another, conceals, in great measure, the ugli-
ness and the cruelty, and leaves before the eye the softer fea-
tures only.

The traveller of to-day, passing through Arizona by either
of the railways that cross the Territory, sees nothing of the
Indian beyond the few frayed-out specimens that haunt the
railway stations, seeking the gullible passenger whom they may
wheedle out of " two bits " for a peep at a papoose, or for a

210 WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT. [May,

ridiculous image in pottery, presumably a god, but really a
fake. These railway-station Indians are not by any means fair
representatives of the territorial tribes. On the reservations,
far removed from towns, may still be found the tall, straight,
eagle-eyed giants of song and story. But the spirit is gone
from the latter quite as much as from the former. The vices
of civilization have broken the bodies while ruining the souls
of the station hangers-on ; but the physique, at least, of the
reservation Indian has been spared. The one, however, is now
as harmless as the other so far as the white man is concerned.
Indeed, the Indian is no longer a terror in the land.

SERPENT JURISPRUDENCE.

In many parts of the Territory rattlesnakes, and the kindred
species of pests hereinbefore duly set forth, have their habitat.

GILA MONSTER.

The danger from these, as from the Indians, exists far more in
imagination than in fact. The purpose of rattlesnakes' creation
surely was not to harass humankind, though they seem, inci-
dentally, to serve this end with a considerable measure of suc-
cess. In actual life no more obliging set of creatures can be
found than these same rattlesnakes, tarantulas, etc. Give them
half the road, or a full quarter even, and you may go through
life in the very midst of snakedom, " in maiden meditation,
fancy free," so far as they are concerned. They are quite able

1 896.] WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT. 2 1 1

to protect their own interests, however, and are fully conscious
of their capabilities in this respect. They are not given to
vain boasting nor to offensive swagger, but, though such be
true, it is well to be careful in the matter of treading on their
tails. If you observe the proper forms of etiquette toward
them while in their preserves, they will do as much by you.
With them " might is not always right." Indeed, rattlesnakes
and their fellows are not the reckless free-booters they are
popularly believed to be. Respect them, and you in turn will
be respected ; interfere with their inalienable right to possess
their tails in peace, and the chances are that you will be gath-
ered to your fathers with neatness and despatch.

MONSTROUS VEGETATION.

Gustave Dore used all the power of his mighty brush to ex-
press utter abandonment to desolation in his picture " Hagar in
the Wilderness." Cliffs of naked rock to her right, with faces
hard and pitiless, but less so than the face of him who drove
her forth ; no cloud above to shield her homeless Ishmael from
the relentless sun. But most -cruel detail in all the bitter scene
is a little bush, resembling a cactus, springing from out the
rock immediately before the kneeling figure of the mother.
More than half the harshness of the wilderness is expressed in
this little thorny bush. The immovable rock, the hateful sand,
the empty water-jar — nothing in all the scene seems so remorse-
lessly forbidding as the spines thrown out from the grossly
fleshy body of the bush, protecting it from the very touch of
the stricken woman. She might lean against the cliff, she might
kneel on the sands, she might press the empty jar to her lips
— the bush alone, like Abraham who had driven her out, she
might not even touch. On the hills and cliffs and deserts of
Arizona may be seen to-day thousands of clumps of cactus
bearing a close resemblance to the bush that gives so much of
hardness to Dora's picture. Perhaps it is the closeness of actual
suffering, in the person of Hagar, to that which may produce
pain, as represented by the thorny bush, that causes us to in-
vest the plant in the pictures with a repulsiveness not observed
in its Arizona relative. The latter has a rather pleasing effect
in the landscape, and in some situations and in some of its
varied forms it is the distinctive feature. Growing in the rocky,
pine-clad passes of the mountains, its pale-green body thrown
out in strong relief by the granite-gray of the rock, and with
yellow or purple flowers, whose petals are as filmy as butter-

212 WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT. [May,

flies' wings, resting on the edge of the flat, oblong, spine-mailed
stalk, the cactus of the opuntia variety is a restful thing to look
upon.

UNCHISELLED ARCHITECTURE.

On the southern hills and plains fluted suhuaros — the Corin-
thian columns of the vegetable world — give a most unique
character to the scene. It would seem that ages ago the land
must have been covered by vast edifices, of which these cactus
pillars are the only remains. So long ago did ruin come that
no debris is there, nor the slightest unevenness to indicate
where mighty walls have crumbled into dust. Nothing but these

shafts, hewn of sterner stuff, tell the tale of architectural magni-
ficence, but they still stand as perfect as on the day they left
the sculptor's chisel. The architectural impression which they
convey is so vivid that one would not be surprised to come
upon a fragment of entablature clinging to the apex of a col-
umn, or a bit of classic capital half buried in the sand at the
base. How stately they are, how massive, and, most remarka-
ble of all, how utterly cheerless ! One would hope to find as
much softness and flexibility and life in marble. And yet they
bear glorious tufts of purple bloom. But, as though they feared
to lose their architectural guise, they blossom and bloom under
cover of darkness only, and for a single night. Beneath the
stars they assume their vegetable character, putting forth flowers
of such delicate hue as might cause the rose, with very envy,
to blush to deeper crimson. When morning comes the flowers

1896.] WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT. 213

are gone, and the Cereus Giganteus is once more the stately
Corinthian column saved from the wreck of centuries.

Besides these two varieties of cactus, there are in Arizona
many other species ; some graceful but angular, reminding one
by the fantastic manner in which the parts are hinged together
of those curious devices moulded and carved on Japanese vases,
while others are stunted and rotund after the manner of pot-
bellied Chinese images.

The whole Arizona cactus tribe is regarded by the average
Easterner as one of the chief of the ten plagues of the Terri-
tory. But this is a grievous mistake. To detail their utility, or
to inquire into the liberal designs of Nature in providing this
peculiar form of vegetable growth for the waste places, would
take up too great space. It will be sufficient to remark that
many a desert traveller has slaked his thirst at these living
fountains, and owes the preservation of his life to the provi-
dence that placed them where they are.

"NEMO ME IMPUNE LACESSIT."

And these plants can do no possible harm if due regard be
had for their rights. They do not thrive on town-lots or on
other valuable real estate ; hence they are not in the way.
They are not so prolific as to choke up county roads ; hence
they do not filch taxes from the settlers' pockets. In addition
to all this, the cactus, of whatever variety, is the most thoroughly
American of plants. It is pre-eminently so by birth and in
spirit. Before Columbus set sail it was here, and was elsewhere
unknown. It is the plant above all others indigenous to Ameri-
can soil and foreign to every other shore. Its independence
demonstrates its American spirit. Out on the desert, where
sometimes rain has not fallen for eighteen or twenty months,
the cactus prospers and bears its richest flowers. In sheltered
passes of the mountains, on the exposed sides of caftons, it is
found nestling among the rocks. But nothing may tamper with
it — neither bird nor beast, not even man. Its formidablie
thorns are always " at home " to callers. It will not be " sat
upon," and in this last trait especially is its Americanism prom-
inent. I happen to have known a dapper lieutenant of the
United States army who unwittingly sat upon one, and he gained
thereby much experience in a very short time. He had been
used to riding in the saddle before his adventure with the cac-
tus, but for some time thereafter he adopted other modes of
transportation.

214

WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT.

[May,

Like the Indian and rattlesnake, the cactus group of Arizo-
na terrors is found, upon examination, to be nothing more than
a kind of bogey which the superstitious dwellers in the jungles
of the East conjure up in their timid minds. The reality falls
far short of equalling in horror the conception, and oftentimes
a thing of real beauty is unhappily converted into a fright for
ever.

Beside the animal and vegetable pests credited to Arizona
is another set, which may be called the physical. Under this
heading fall the deserts and sand-dunes.

IN THE DESERT LIGHT.

That a great area in Arizona is, at the present time, a waste
is undeniable. Mile after mile, in some portions of it, is to all

"As MUCH OF A DESERT AS THE GREAT SAHARA."

intents and purposes as much of a desert as the Great Sahara.
And a desert is a terrible place. Nothing more pitiable may
be said of a human being than that he is deserted. Such an
one is a man set apart from others by reason of misfortune.
He stands alone in sorrow and misery, in such a condition that
the sympathies of his fellows may not reach him ; sometimes
even the hand of God seems to have withdrawn its support.
So is the desert a place seemingly lacking all those things that
go to make up the gladness and beauty of the ordinary land-
scape. No water, no greenness, no animation. Dulness of
color and thirst and silence here have their abiding place.
•" Lost in the desert "; what utter abandonment in this expres-

1896.] WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT. 215

sion ! " A voice crying out in the desert "; how this moves the
human heart ! " And immediately the Spirit drove Him out in-
to the desert, and He was in the desert forty days and forty
nights." Calvary itself seems not to have been more terrible.
But as there is no human soul without gleams of brightness,
so there is no desert scene without touches of nature in her
gentler mood ; least of all are the waste places of Arizona so
abandoned. The sun shines nowhere more brightly ; the
midnight skies are nowhere more clear, not even on the
dancing Neapolitan bay. Here one can scarcely believe that
a belt of atmosphere, attenuated though it be, intervenes be-
tween earth and sky, so unalloyed is the light. You bathe
in it, feel it, touch it. There is no escape from it. No shadow
of foliage steals one atom of it ; no roof-tree, far as eye may
reach, offers refuge from it. All-pervading, on an Arizona de-
sert you are, indeed, alone with light and light's holy Creator —
God.

In the northern part of the Territory is a great stretch of
country to which has been given the name " Painted Desert."
A happier name was never given, for painted indeed this land
is ; not in the decided colors of the rainbow, but in the vary-
ing shades of evening clouds. The painter is the same that
tints the clouds, but the canvas is of different texture. Here it
is the sands and soil. The yellow and gray and white of the
sea-shore ; the full, rich red and brown of fallen autumn
leaves ; the pale green of the sage brush are thrown in bold
dashes on this canvas, and softening all is the hazy temper of
the sunlight. And at the sky-line — the background of it all —
about the last hour of day, a band of rose appears and melts
into the sapphire of the vault above. As the sun disappears
the line of rose floats gradually upward, giving place at the
horizon to a belt of blue, made softer than the expanse of like
color in the higher heavens by the radiation of heat from the
sands of the desert. A purple glory comes over all when the
sun is gone and " all the air a solemn stillness holds." The
coloring of the clouds, and more, is on the Arizona deserts at
the twilight hour ; the Spirit of God broods over all.

THE LAND OF MIRAGE.

On the desert, too, are seen those wonderful lakes that bear
no sails, slake no man's thirst, and whose waves beat noiselessly
on mimic shores. " Painted oceans " are these, the mirages
of the desert. You see them, stretching away in the distance,

2l6

WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT.

[May

when the noon-day sun is baking the gasping earth, their waves
sometimes dancing and sparkling, sometimes placid and shim-
mering, always refreshing to the sight of the traveller. Bays
and promontories mark their shores. Islands float on the sur-
face of the waters and oftentimes cattle seem to be cooling
themselves in the quiet inlets where shadowy cat-tails and
sedges grow. Everything that may emphasize the delusion is
there. The beauty of it all is enhanced by the environment.
To no one is a rose more charming than to him who has come
upon one blooming in an unexpected place ; to no one is the
sight of water so refreshing as to him who is surrounded by
the desolation of drought. Who will doubt, then, that to him

GILA MONSTER AND RATTLESNAKES.

who comes upon the lake in the desert the most attractive
aspect of nature is revealed ? Who will wonder that he feels the
cool breeze and the tonic of the spray against his cheek ?
Indeed, though you be aware that it is a delusion, you can
hardly keep from expanding the chest to drink in the imaginary
freshness of the air.

How strange it is to try to reach one of these elusive lakes!
Though they seem no more than a half mile from you, no
distance travelled will bring you closer to them, and they dis-
appear from before your very eyes with a slight change in the
atmospheric conditions. One day I was driving along the
Little Colorado River, which touches the southern edge of the
Painted Desert, and I saw, some distance before me, a shallow
body of water spreading out in a broad sheet. It was ap-
parently an overflow from the river. I could not understand

1896.]

WHERE THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT.

217

how it could be such, however, since the current of the river
was very low. I puzzled over the matter till I concluded that
a sudden freshet had come down some time before, had over-
flown the banks in a spot where the land sloped gradually
away, and that the current had now resumed its normal level.
What was my surprise to find, after driving a considerable time,
that the waters still spread out before me, but always at the
same distance ahead. This was the first mirage I had ever
seen. The overflow theory was so satisfactory, the illusion
itself so perfect, even to the reflection of the cotton-wood trees
that grew near the river's bank, and to the peculiar effect of
the restless waters encircling the tree-trunks, that I could not
bring myself for a time to believe it unreal. But such it was :
41 water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink."

The desert has had its tragedies with no eye to see but the
eye of God. Who has not read of them ? and who that has
did not shudder at the reading? In the Cincinnati Art Museum
I saw, a few years ago, a picture that undertook to reproduce
such a tragedy. A poor Indian alone on the desert, kneeling
in the sands under the meridian blaze of the sun, his pony
dead beside him, nothing but glaring light around, his reason
fled, " but a step between him and death." Such was the
artist's vision, and seeing it one could not but feel that the
desert has its dead as the ocean has ; but the ocean is so
merciful !

Such are the deeper shadows in a land " where the sun shines
bright." That they are but shadows, and grateful ones from
some points of view, I trust this sketch may have made ap-
parent.

218 A BRAVE PRIEST. [May,

A BRAVE PRIEST.

BY WILFRID WILBERFORCE.

Rome in the hands of a government which
is blatantly infidel and anti-Christian, with the
Holy Father driven to complain of his position
as almost intolerable, and with France, once the
Eldest Daughter of the Church, ruled by those to
whom the ancient glories of Catholic times are hateful, we are
apt to regard the days in which we live as very bad times for
the Church of Christ. And no doubt we are justified in so re-
garding them. As long as each Mass which is offered up is
followed by special prayers for " the liberty and exaltation of
the church," we may be sure that, in the opinion of the Su-
preme Pontiff, the church is still fettered and oppressed ; and
indeed every-day experience shows this to be the case. Still,
there is nothing to be gained by discouragement, and in this
paper I propose to chronicle a few facts which will illustrate
the very much worse condition in which the church found her-
self at the end of the first decade of the present century. Be-
tween that period and our own, however, she has triumphed in
many glorious and unexpected ways. The power — seemingly
irresistible — which sought, at least in part, to deprive her of
life, is passed away and forgotten. The church which eighty-
odd years ago was, to all human appearance, at the last gasp
in Napoleon's empire is as full of divine vitality as ever ; and
what the great emperor strove in vain to accomplish in the
second decade of the century will certainly not be effected by
his successors in power in the last.

It is, of course, a terrible evil and scandal that the Pope
should be deprived of his temporal power. But at least he
remains in Rome. In the Vatican itself he is free, though he
is virtually a prisoner within its walls.

IMPRISONMENT AND ESPIONAGE AT SAVONA.

Pius VII. was not merely deprived of temporal power, he
was secretly kidnapped out of his palace and was forcibly re-
moved in a locked-up carriage out of his capital. For two
years he remained a prisoner at Savona, and during part of

1896.] A BRAVE PRIEST. 219

that time he was not merely cut off from all communication with
his spiritual children, but deprived of all his counsellors, of his
confessor, and for a time at least of all human companionship,
except that of his doctor and his jailer. More than this, he
was actually deprived of books, and even of writing materials,
by the childish cruelty of Napoleon. Nor was even this all.
To persuade this feeble old man, who was suffering from a pain-
ful disease, to yield to the tyrant's will he was systematically
deceived as to the opinions and wishes of the cardinals, bishops,
and theologians of the church. Many of the members of the
Sacred College who remained faithful to their Head were de-
prived of their office, their revenues, and their purple. Some
were sent to out-of-the-way places, while others, who consented
to act as tools of Napoleon, were commissioned to visit the
Pontiff on the pretence of advising him, though they had ac-
tually put their signatures, before leaving Paris, to papers pro-
mising to counsel the Holy Father according to the emperor's
will.

It is very wonderful to read the history of Napoleon's deal-
ings with the Holy See, and to watch how miserable was the
failure of this astounding genius, who hitherto had not known
what failure meant, in his efforts to break down, either by phy-
sical, ill-treatment, by deceit, by mean device, by forgery, or by
cajolery, the magnificent constancy and fortitude of this single
old man. Against the Rock of Peter the greatest of earthly
conquerors spent his strength as ineffectually as the tide beats
against a granite cliff. As Pius VII. himself said, when in his
prison at Savona : " When opinions are founded on the voice of
conscience and the sense of duty, they become unalterable."
And not only did Napoleon fail to enslave the church, his
persecution recoiled upon himself and grievously embarrassed
him.

Amid the darkness of persecution, amid the sad scenes of
prelates false to their trust and truckling to an earthly master,
it is consoling to read of one man at least who feared not to
stand up in the very presence of the emperor himself, and, by
his gentleness, simplicity, and truth, to vanquish the false argu-
ments on which the tyrant relied in carrying out his base pur-
pose.

The man to whom I allude, a simple priest named Emery,
will ever be held in honor as one who, in a dark and danger-
ous time, loved conscience better even than peace, and, when
publicly called upon by the emperor, feared not to speak the

220 A BRAVE PRIEST. [May,

truth with boldness, yet with humility, knowing well as he did
so that he was braving the tyrant's wrath.

NAPOLEON'S MEANNESS.

Except his life, indeed, M. Emery had little or nothing to
lose. For riches and honors he cared not at all. Everything
which he did value he had already lost for conscience' sake.
He had been the revered and beloved head of the Seminary of
St. Sulpice. Of this post Napoleon deprived him — and will it
be believed on what ground ? Cardinal Somaglia had consulted
M. Emery as to whether it would be lawful for him to be pres-
ent at the marriage of the emperor with Maria Louisa. M.
Emery replied that if his eminence felt a scruple, " it might be
better not to attend, as conscience binds." For giving this ad-
vice the venerable priest was turned out of the home which h.e
loved so well. For years he had lived a holy and useful life
within its walls, training up generation after generation of priests,
and sending them forth to the work of his Master's vineyard.
But of what avail was this ? He had offended a tyrant who
seldom forgave, and he was dismissed.

It is true that the emperor afterwards dissolved the seminary
itself, as well as other missionary congregations, at the same
time positively forbidding missions to be preached, because he
feared that through the missionaries the truth of his dealings
with the Holy See might become known. But it was the coun-
sel given to Somaglia that brought upon M. Emery his special
sentence of banishment from his home.

At the same time Napoleon was far too sagacious not to
see the greatness of such a man, and not to value his opinion
at its proper worth. No doubt he thoroughly realized the enor-
mous support which M. Emery could give to his plans, if only
the saintly priest would take his side in the controversy. And
the time came when the emperor specially summoned him to
the palace to give his advice. Before relating the scene which
then ensued it will be well to recapitulate very briefly some of
the circumstances which led to it.

THE EMPEROR AS BISHOP.

Napoleon, who could not endure that any one but himself
should possess power in his own dominions, determined, having
now imprisoned the Holy Father at Savona, to rule the church
himself. To begin with, he attempted to get into his hands the
instituting of bishops. He was, however, soon assured that this

1896.] A BRAVE PRIEST. 221

was impossible, and that to deal with such a question a council
was necessary. Such a council, therefore, Napoleon determined
should be held. As a preliminary step, he proposed to a com-
mission certain questions. These questions assumed as a settled
point that the pope should in future have nothing to do with
the instituting of bishops in France. What the commission had
to do was to advise on the steps to be taken to supply his
place.

The report was so worded as to comprehend anything, and
Napoleon at once saw that its tenor, if acted upon, would rid
him of the pope. It advised the convening of a " National
Council," and it was clearly implied that this assembly might
override the pope if he refused to submit.

It was in preparation for this "Council" that the emperor
summoned to his side the members of his " Ecclesiastical Com-
mission." With them also came Prince Talleyrand, Cambaceres,
and other dignitaries.

Of this commission M. Emery was a member, but, like our
own Blessed Thomas More, he was averse to controversy, and
probably, like all who are strong in the hour of trial, he dis-
trusted his own strength. Anyhow he absented himself from
the meeting.

Napoleon sent him a special order to attend. Finding him-
self thus forced to go, M. Emery betook himself to prayer.
Falling on his knees, he begged for strength and light. These
were not denied, and with perfect calmness he accompanied the
bishops, who had been sent to summon him, to the Tuileries.

Napoleon began the proceedings with a speech which, in
the words of Cardinal Consalvi, " was nothing but a tissue of
erroneous principles, falsehoods, atrocious calumnies, and anti-
Catholic maxims."

A CRUCIAL MOMENT.

It was, of course, directed against the Sovereign Pontiff.
The speech was followed, to quote the same writer, by a "scan-
dalous silence." Among the emperor's hearers were cardinals
and bishops, and they stood round, dumb, afraid to face with
words of truth the anger of the tyrant.

After an interval Napoleon turned towards M. Emery, and
requested his opinion.

" Sire," replied the old priest with the simplicity which dis-
arms and conquers guile, " I can have no other opinion than
that expressed in the catechism which is taught by your orders
VOL. LXIII. — 15

222 A BRAVE PRIEST. [May,

in all the churches of the empire. There I read : ' The pope
is the visible Head of the church.' Now, a body cannot dis-
pense with its head, with him to whom it owes obedience by
divine right." From this M. Emery, after drawing out his
argument at some length, deduced the conclusion that a coun-
cil which did not receive the sanction of the pope would be
null and void.

It is not easy to understand how it was that M. Emery
was thus left alone to enunciate so very elementary a truth.
Among Napoleon's ecclesiastical commission were some who
had at the time of the convention stood up boldly for the
rights of the church. And yet now these, as we have seen,
maintained in the emperor's presence a " scandalous silence,"
which endorsed as it were their previously expressed opinion,
that such a proceeding as the calling of the "Council" might,
" in case of necessity," be valid.

Probably Napoleon had never before been met in precisely
this way. Had the speaker been any one else, the emperor
would almost certainly have burst into one of those passions of
rage which, whether they were real or pretended, he so fre-
quently exhibited, and which terrified their objects into silence.
But M. Emery held a unique position. According to the em-
peror's own confession, he was the only man who inspired him
with fear. He therefore treated him with civility.

" I do not dispute the spiritual power of the pope," replied
Napoleon, " since he received it from Jesus Christ. But Jesus
Christ did not give him the temporal power. That was given
by Charlemagne, and I, as successor of Charlemagne, think fit
to take it from him, because he does not know how to use it,
and because it interferes with the exercise of his spiritual func-
tions. What have you to say to that, M. Emery ? "

BOSSUET AND THE TEMPORAL POWER.

Once more the simple priest was able to use against the
emperor one of his own weapons. In his first reply he had
cited the catechism which, by Napoleon's own orders, was
everywhere taught. Now he referred his crafty questioner to
an authority to which, when it suited him, he himself loved
to appeal. " Sire," said M. Emery, " I can only say what Bos-
suet says, whose great authority your majesty justly reverences,
and whom you are so often pleased to quote. Now that great
prelate . . . expressly maintains that the independence and
complete liberty of the Sovereign Pontiff are necessary for the

1896.] * A BRAVE PRIEST. 223

free exercise of his spiritual authority throughout the world, in
so great a multiplicity of empires and kingdoms."

Then followed a quotation from Bossuet which M. Emery
knew word for word by heart. In this passage come the fol-
lowing momentous words : "We rejoice at the Temporal Power,
not only for the sake of the Apostolic See, but still more for
that of the church universal, and we most ardently hope from
the bottom of our hearts that this sacred sovereignty may
ever remain safe and entire under all circumstances."

According to M. d'Hassounville, the historian, who describes
this scene, Napoleon was accustomed to listen in patience to
the opinion of a man who understood his subject and had the
command of words.

" Well," he said, " I do not reject the authority of Bossuet.
All that was true in his times, when Europe acknowledged a
number of masters. But what inconvenience is there in the
pope's being subject to me — to me, I say, now that Europe
knows no master except myself alone?"

Such a questioner was indeed difficult to argue with, espe-
cially when due regard was to be had to the relative positions
of subject and sovereign. M. Emery might surely have replied
that it would be time to speak of the confiscation and retention
of the pope's dominions, and his subjection to France, when
Napoleon had conquered, not Europe merely but all the nations
which contained Catholics acknowledging the authority of the
Holy See.

He chose an equally trenchant and equally obvious reply,
but one that was even more difficult to frame without wound-
ing the emperor's pride. To speak of facts which every one
knew would have been, one would think, comparatively easy.
To imply that Napoleon's power and his dynasty might one
day be overthrown was not merely a more dangerous form of
argument, but one even more difficult to couch in language
which would not offend. But this argument M. Emery em-
ployed. He appealed to Napoleon as to one better versed than
himself in the history of revolutions, adding that " what exists
now may not always exist, and in that case all the incon-
veniences foreseen by Bossuet might once more make their ap-
pearance," and that, for this reason, "the order of things so
wisely established ought not to be changed."

This delicate but unmistakable reminder that Europe would
not always be dominated by the intolerable yoke then enslaving
it, and that the tyrant would one day pass away as others had

224 A BRAVE PRIEST. • [May,

done before, can scarcely have been palatable to Napoleon.
But whatever annoyance he may have felt, he did not show it
to M. Emery.

Speaking next of the clause which " the bishops had pro-
posed as an addition to the Concordat " (to use M. d'Hausson-
ville's words), he asked M. Emery whether he thought that the
pope would agree to it. This clause provided that the right of
instituting bishops should devolve upon the provincial council in
case the pope should not exercise that right within a certain
period after a see was vacant. M. Emery replied at once that
the pope would certainly make no such concession. Upon which
Napoleon, addressing the bishops then present who were mem-
bers of the commission, said :

"Ah, ah, messieurs! you want to lead me into a pas de clerc
by getting me to ask of the pope what he has no right to grant
me."

FAINT-HEARTED BISHOPS.

The bishops thus addressed must certainly have smarted un-
der this reproach, couched as it was in terms which were the
reverse of civil. Nor was the wound healed when Napoleon
rose to leave the council. Without taking much notice of the
other members of the commission, he bowed graciously as he
passed M. Emery. One more incident, however, must be record-
ed. It occurred just before Napoleon left the room. Turning
to one of the bishops he asked him whether M. Emery was
accurate in what he had said of the teaching of the catechism.
Of course there was no denying that he was. But his fellow-
commissioners, fearing that the old man's boldness might bring
down upon him the wrath of the emperor, began to beg for-
giveness for him.

" Messieurs," said Napoleon, " you are mistaken. I am not
in any degree offended with M. Emery. He has spoken like a
man who knows his subject, and that is the way I wish people
to speak. It is true that he does not think with me, but in
this place each one ought to have his opinion free."

But for all this M. Emery saw clearly that there was danger
both of persecution and of schism. Even before the meeting
in the Tuileries he had written to Napoleon's nephew, Cardi-
nal Fesch, that the time had come for resistance unto blood,
and the cardinal actually warned the emperor that he "had now
come to a point at which he would be compelled to make mar-
tyrs." The boldness of the saintly abb6 had at least the effect

1896.] ' A BRAVE PRIEST. 225

of convincing Napoleon that his project of transferring, by
means of a council, the right of institution from the Sovereign
Pontiff to a provincial synod was hopeless. Upon this point
his commission had blinded him, but M. Emery had opened
his eyes. He did not, however, abandon the idea of the coun-
cil, and the necessary arrangements were pushed on.

DRIVEN FORTH AT EIGHTY.

Affairs were in this condition when the late superior of St.
Sulpice went to his well-earned rest. As has already been said,
he was driven from his home. This occurred when he was un-
der the burden of eighty years. He had further been strictly
forbidden to hold any communication with his former brethren,
and in a letter which he wrote about that time to a friend
whom he had, years before, sent to found a Sulpician house in
Baltimore, we find him looking sadly forward to the time when
in America only the houses of the congregation would be able
to flourish.

"It must be admitted," he writes, "to be probable that be-
fore long it will be impossible that Sulpician communities should
exist in France, and that both the thing and the name will be
confined to America. For myself, I cannot think of moving
thither. My age does not permit it ; but I forewarn you that
if things turn out as I fear they will, many of our members will
go where you are, and I shall take measures to secure their
being followed by all our property and all the most precious
things we possess."

The unexpected reception by Napoleon of the Abb6
Emery's words, and the fact that the emperor was at this time
so much pleased with him, encouraged Cardinal Fesch to re-
quest that the old man might return to his beloved home, and
end his days surrounded by his brethren.

On the emperor's part surely the favor would not have
been much to concede. To the abbe" and to the Sulpicians the
boon would have been great. But the request was refused. A
better home, however, was about to open its doors to the saint-
ly abbe", and one from which no tyrant or persecutor will ever
eject him. To use the eloquent words of a writer in the
Dublin Review in speaking of this noble man :

" The day of weary, disappointing toil was over ; the
evening had come ; the sun had set ; in the natural world all was
shut in by a sky which had never been so dark and lowering ;
but faith assured him that above the clouds and darkness the

226 A BRAVE PRIEST. [May.

Sun of Righteousness was shining in undiminished glory, and
that when the right time should come he would dispel every
mist that man could raise, and once more shine out upon the
world which he had created and redeemed."

CADIT QU^STIO.

But though his faith failed not, it was impossible that a
man bowed down by years should look forward unmoved to
what he deemed the advent of a schism. Whether, if the
Russian campaign had ended in triumph, such a schism would
really have come, who can say? Judging as well as we can by
what seem to have been Napoleon's wishes, we may well thank
God that his struggle with the Holy See was prematurely
ended by that disastrous winter at Moscow, and by his sub-
sequent defeats. The prospect did indeed seem dark to M.
Emery's dying eyes, and he was thankful, when the summons
came, to leave the future in younger and stronger hands.

He could at least feel, though he would certainly have been
the last to acknowledge it, that he had done a great work in
his time ; that he, a mere humble priest (for he had refused
ecclesiastical position), had, by his simple courage, by his
honesty, and by the respect due to his holy life, done more
than almost any other to hinder the warfare which Napoleon
was waging against the Holy See. He could truly say that
he had " fought the good fight and kept the faith," and, as
he wrote just before his end, " it is a good moment to die."

This moment, so happy for him, came on Sunday, April 28,
1811.

But his courage and plain-speaking had not been without
fruit. Napoleon was now convinced that to transfer the right
of institution from the Holy See to a provincial synod was out
of the question. That was something gained. The history of
his future dealings with the Vicar of Christ form no part of
this short sketch, which is merely intended to recall the forti-
tude of one who was " faithful found " at a time when fidelity
meant privation, and sometimes imprisonment. Such an ex-
ample as that of M. Emery is surely not without its value in
these days of expediency and compromise ; while a comparison
of the Holy Father's position in the earlier years of the century
with that of Pius IX. up to 1870 — ay, and even that of his
glorious and heroic successor — should encourage us still to hope
for the triumph of the church, in God's own good time.

MENELEK, KING OF SHOA AND EMPEROR OF ABYSSINIA.

THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

'FRICA is the Nemesis of many mighty wrongs.
This seems to be a fateful function of the dark
continent ever since history began to be written.
To punish ambition and wanton aggression by
overwhelming rout and ruin this enigmatical con-
tinent seems destined to live on in its darkness and its barbar-
ism, unimpressionable and monstrous, through the ages, while
the petty kingdoms which quarrel over its partition go down
into the dust like the cities of the Libyan desert.

Italy of all countries has had reason to remember Africa.
Even though Carthage went down while Rome survived, the
great wars which preceded the fall of the Phoenician colony
almost engulfed the victors as well as the vanquished. Little
Italy's attempt to do in Abyssinia what great Rome found it
so hard to accomplish in Carthago Colonia appears to be the
folly of the reckless gamester who throws the dice although he
has not the wherewithal to pay the cost of defeat. If some
stronger hand be not held out to save her, if she lose the
stakes, she is lost.

As the West Coast of Africa has earned the name of "the

228

THE ETHIOPIAN' s UNCHANGED SKIN.

[May,

white man's grave," so the northern region is known as the
tomb of great military reputations. The generals who have
written their names upon the sands of the deserts there are
legion. And it is peculiar to this part of Africa that defeat
there signifies not merely disaster but annihilation to the invad-
ing force. Whole armies have been again and again engulfed
in those horrible solitudes, leaving hardly a survivor to tell the
story of their ruin.

THE PENALTY OF PARVENU GREATNESS.

In the magnitude and completeness of its overthrow, the
disaster to the Italian army at Adowa appears to have been
the greatest military disaster . in Africa in modern times. Its
effect upon the Italian kingdom was first indicated in the im-
mediate downfall of the Crispi ministry. What is to follow
may be far more serious for the Italian monarchy. A cry of
rage was heard from end to end of the country when the full
extent of the disaster was at length disclosed, after many futile
attempts to minimize it by the governmental press. In many
cities formidable uprisings of the populace took place as a pro-
test against the con-
tinuance of the war,
and were these not
promptly repressed by
a powerful military
effort, the rising might
have attained the di-
mensions of a revolu-
tion. As it is, the evil
day for the monarchy
appears to have been
only put off a little.
Italy is taxed down to
the last lire that the peo-
ple can pay, but those
who bear the mulct
will not pay the new
tax demanded of them.
They will not submit
to a blood-tax for the

mere purpose of prosecuting a hopeless war of aggression in the
fatal wilds of Africa. This is too big a price to pay for the luxury
of a " United Italy," with a place in the armipotent Dreibund.

TAUTI, QUEEN OF SHOA AND EMPRESS OF
ABYSSINIA.

1896.]

THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN.

229

What brought Italy into Eastern Africa ? There were three
great operating causes, independently of larger schemes or visions
of territorial aggrandisement conjured up, in all probability, by
the admission of the new kingdom into the high society of
the Triple Alli-
ance. There
was, first of all,
her own ambi-
tion to prove
herself worthy
of her new rank
as a first-class
state. Next
there was a
burning jealousy
of France, with-
out whose help
there never could
have been a
" United Italy."
France had es-
tablished a pro-
tectorate over
Tunis, as the
result of a quar-
rel with that ef-
fete pirate state,
and Italy's rage
must find a sol-
ace somewhere to prevent national apoplexy. And, last of all,
the caldron of discontent was seething at home to such a degree
as to threaten destruction to the new order. It is always in
such crises that astute statesmen rely on external conditions
to produce a diversion. Without asking the consent of the na-
tives, but with the acquiescence of the European powers, whose
rights in the matter are nil, the Italians proceeded to establish
a colony on the shores of the Red Sea, on the north-eastern
flank of the ancient empire of Ethiopia. They took Massowah
as their maritime base of operations, and proceeded to push
out north, south, and west, until they had mapped out a con-
siderable wedge of territory, and they named the colony Ery-
trea.

230

THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIX.

[May,

THE MOUNTAIN RAMPARTS OF ABYSSINIA.

Northwards and westwards the shadowy sovereignty of Egypt
was questioned in a very practical way by the elusive, nomadic,
and ferocious dervishes of the Soudan region ; southward the
no less formidable tribesmen of Shoa and Tigre kept watch and
ward in their tremendous mountain fastnesses against any in-
trusion into their frightful bailiwick. The sandy littoral stretch-
ing off from Massowah toward Tajurrah, the next sea-port, is
occupied by semi-savages over whom the Khedive claims but
does not exercise authority ; but in this arid, broiling waste,

which lies close
to the equator,
lurk foes more
deadly than even
savage men —
namely, disease
and drought, the
hyena and noxi-
ous reptiles and
insects. What ter-
ritory the Italians
had seized was of
no use ; above the
bare and profitless
sea-board rises the
salubrious moun-
tainy country of
Abyssinia, where
the soil is fertile
and full of mineral
wealth, and where
the cattle grow
sleek and plump
on pleasant pas-
tures amid the
high table-lands.
But nature, which
has made Abys-
sinia rich and
fruitful in these things, has also girt it around with a battlement
of mighty mountains flung together, as it were, in rude Titanic
sport. The frontier lands of Shoa and Tigre present physical

THE END OF THEODORE.

1896.] THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN. 231

difficulties of the most appalling kind. Precipices which soar
thousands of feet into the air close in chasms of frightful gloom ;
paths along which only single travellers can crawl often wind
around the faces of the vast slabs of rock ; from the mountains
come torrents, at times without the slightest note of warning,
plunging through the defiles and sweeping everything before
them. The atmosphere of this horrible country, until the great
plateaus of Abyssinia proper are reached, is that of a glowing fur-
nace. But it must be traversed before the heart of Abyssinia can
be reached, and it seems to have been the mad idea of the Italian
colonizers that, by their efforts, this unattainable country, which
had hitherto defied all attempts at conquest, might at length be
brought within the sphere of Italian influence — the latest euphem-
ism for acts of international filibustering.

A PUNISHMENT THAT FITS THE CRIME.

At first the Italian government tried a policy of conciliation
with the power most immediately concerned. Handsome pre-
sents were sent to the over-lord of Abyssinia, the Negus (or
Negoos, as some authorities spell it), King Menelek. Amongst
those presents were a few thousand stand of arms, wherewith
Menelek, it was intended, could put down any signs of a frac-
tious spirit that might be shown in the turbulent tributaries of
Shoa and Tigre. But the donors never suspected that these
very presents were destined to serve to give point to a deadly
epigram. It is now declared that the arms were those taken
from the Papal troops who surrendered at Rome, after the bom-
bardment of the Porta Pia by Cialdini's artillery. To find them
used for the annihilation of an army of the usurpation just a
quarter of a century later looks something more than a mere
coincidence.

Whether he feared those gift-bearing Italians or not, King
Menelek received their presents with thanks, as his armories
were never much to boast of. But if he dissembled his feelings,
he gave the Italians to understand that they must confine the
" sphere of Italian influence " to the profitless region of Erytrea,
fixing the river Mareb as the north-western boundary. Along
the line of this river the filibusters proceeded as far to the
north-west as Kassala. But here they did not find it convenient
to stop, although bound to do so by the treaty to which they
had got King Menelek to agree. Last year a strong Italian
force was despatched in the direction of Adowa, the northern
capital of Abyssinia. King Menelek assembled a great army

232 THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN. [May,

and soon succeeded by the able generalship of Ras Alula, the
commander-in-chief, in surrounding the invaders and cooping
them up in a temporary fortification. Hunger compelled their
surrender, and Menelek, who is a most pacific monarch, allowed
them to march out without molestation. The Italians showed
their gratitude by returning with reinforcements to make a re-
newed attempt at the subjugation of their foolishly magnani-
mous neighbor ; whereupon the Shoans and Tigretians fell upon

MAGDALA AND THE VALLEY OF THE BASHILO.

them in their overwhelming might and literally wiped them out.
The loss of the invaders is variously estimated at from nine to
twelve thousand men.

A DRAGON-GUARDED LAND.

Now this has been, with one exception, the fate of every
aggressive expedition sent against Abyssinia in modern days.
Egypt sent out two formidable expeditions against Menelek's
predecessor, King Johannis, one in 1874 and the other two
years later. Both were simply overwhelmed. Twenty thousand
men perished in the later one of these doomed enterprises.
The exception to this rule of disaster was in the case of the
English expedition against King Theodore in 1867. Circum-
stances favored this enterprise. In the first place,- it was led by
the eminent Indian general, Sir Robert Napier, and was im-
mensely strong, numbering in all arms over 32,000 men. In the
next, it was abundantly provided with necessary supplies ; and
what was more important, excellent arrangements for its ad-
vance had been made by British agents with the native chiefs,
who were nearly all in rebellion against Theodore. With all
these advantages, however, the advance of this great force
proved to be one of the most onerous military undertakings

1896.] THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN. 233

ever attempted, and its successful accomplishment gained the
general not only a peerage, but the highest credit from the
greatest military critics of the age. Several engagements were
fought with Theodore's troops, and in the result the town
of Magdala, where Theodore had fixed his capital, was taken
and burned, and he himself was killed, as it is stated, by his
own hand after the loss of the battle before Magdala.

But it is frankly acknowledged that this success could not
have been achieved were it not for the co-operation of the
prince of Tigr£ and other Abyssinian chiefs, who had been
driven into rebellion by Theodore's eccentricities. In the pre-
sent invasion the circumstances are totally different. All Abys-
sinia is united against the aggressors, whose breach of solemn
treaty obligations shows them in a most odious light. There
never has been a more unjust war than the present one, and
there is something of retributive justice in the disasters which
have attended it. King Theodore, on the other hand, had es-
tranged the sympathies of all decent minds, by reason of the
cruel and perfidious treatment he meted out to a number of
English people who had been sent out to him — some at his
own request. Those captives were subjected to the greatest in-
dignities and privations, and often cruelly beaten. Even the
king himself had forgotten his personal dignity so far as to be-
have violently towards them at times. But the charge of mala
fides in the present case lies at the door of the European in-
terlopers ; and this makes all the difference in the world with
regard to the ethics of war.

THE ONLY SYMPATHIZER.

It is not easy to understand the motives of the Italian
government in persisting in the war. So far as external symp-
toms can be relied on, it is a decidedly unpopular war with
the people. More level-headed populations than the Italians
cannot bear military disasters with equanimity ; and so far the
Abyssinian campaign has not been productive of any other
fruit. King Menelek has proved himself most anxious for peace.
He has made several most generous proposals to that end, but
they have met with no grateful response on the part of his
humiliated enemy. The hopes of the Italian government are
again excited by a friendly movement on the part of England.
With the ostensible object of recovering the Soudan for the
Viceroy of Egypt, England has determined to send a fresh
expedition up the Nile, the objective point being Dongola. By

234

THE ETHIOPIAN' s UNCHANGED SKIN.

[May,

this means the Italians hope to be relieved From anxiety re-
garding their garrisons at Kassala and other points along the
Mareb, since the roving Arabs who have been harassing these
places would necessarily be drawn off to repel the Egyptian
attack. But it is quite possible that the Italians may place
too great a value upon this diversion in their favor. Hitherto
British expeditions into the Soudan have not had any greater
success than Italian ones into Abyssinia, and the conditions
which preceded the former painful surprises of the desert have
altered very little since Hicks Pasha led his army into that
remarkable region. Not a man from the provinces of Tigr6
and Shoa will be drawn off by the English advance, as the
territory sought to be recovered for Egypt is entirely outside
the Abyssinian border.

A CYCLOPEAN TARTARUS.

The nature of the task which awaits the Italians, should
they stubbornly persist in an invasion of Abyssinia, may be

BURNING OF MAGDALA.

gathered from an extract from the narrative of Major Harris,
an Anglo-Indian officer who in 1841 was sent to Shoa to nego-
tiate a treaty with Sahela Selassie, the then ruler of that coun-
try. After much hardship in the journey from Tajurrah, where
the expedition landed, the party at last got on the mountain

1896.] THE ETHIOPIAN' s UNCHANGED SKIN. 235

fringe of the Abyssinian territory, where they made a brief
halt. What then lay before them is best told in Major Harris's
narrative :

" They spent the day on the scorching table-land, one
thousand • seven hundred feet above the sea, and having pur-
chased with some cloth the good will of the wild Bedouin
tribes, who had mustered to attack them, set out the next night,
at moonrise, down the yawning pass of Rah Eesah, which leads
to the salt lake of Assal. It was a bright and cloudless night,
and the scenery, as viewed by the uncertain moonlight, cast at
intervals in the windings of the road upon the glittering spear-
blades of the warriors, was wild and terrific. The frowning
basaltic cliffs, not three hundred yards from summit to summit,
flung an impenetrable gloom over the greater portion of the
frightful chasm, until, as the moon rose higher in the clear
vault of heaven, she shone full upon huge shadowy masses,
and gradually revealed the now dry bed, which in the rainy
season must oftentimes become a brief but impetuous torrent.
Skirting the base of a barren range, covered with heaps of lava
blocks, and its foot ornamented with many artificial piles,
marking deeds of blood, the lofty conical peak of Jebel Seearo
rose presently to sight, and not long afterward the far-famed
Lake Assal, surrounded by dancing mirage, was seen sparkling
at its base.

" In this unventilated and diabolical hollow dreadful indeed
were the sufferings in store both for man and beast. Not a
drop of fresh water existed within many miles ; and, although
every human precaution had been taken to secure a supply, by
means of skins carried upon camels, the very great extent of
most impracticable country to be traversed, which had unavoid-
ably led to the detention of nearly all, added to the difficulty
of restraining a multitude maddened by the tortures of burning
thirst, rendered the provision quite insufficient ; and during the
whole of this appalling day, with the mercury in the thermome-
ter standing at one hundred and twenty-six degrees under the
shade of cloaks and umbrellas, in a suffocating pandemonium,
depressed five hundred and seventy feet below the ocean, where
no zephyr fanned the fevered skin, and where the glare, arising
from the sea of white salt, was most painful to the eyes;
where the furnace-like vapor exhaled, almost choking respiration,
created an indomitable thirst, and not the smallest shelter ex-
isted, save such as was afforded, in cruel mockery, by the
stunted boughs of the solitary leafless acacia, or, worse still, by

236

THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN.

[May,

black blocks of heated lava, it was only practicable, during
twelve tedious hours, to supply to each of the party two quarts
of the most mephitic brickdust-colored fluid, which the direst
necessity could alone have forced down the parched throat, and
which, after all, far from alleviating thirst, served materially to
augment its horrors.

" The sufferings of the party were so terrible that they were

obliged to leave
the baggage to
the care of the
guides and camel-
drivers, and push
on to the ravine
of Goongoonteh,
beyond the desert,
where there was
a spring of water.
All the Europe-
ans, therefore, set
out at midnight ;
but at the very
moment of start-
ing the camel car-
rying the water-
skins fell, burst
the skins, and lost
the last remain-
ing supply. 'The
horrors of that
dismal night/ says
Major Harris, 'set
the efforts of de-
scription at de-
fiance. An un-
limited supply of
water in prospect, at the distance of only sixteen miles, had
for the moment buoyed up the drooping spirit which tenantec
each way-worn frame ; and when an exhausted mule was unable
to |totter further, his rider contrived manfully to breast the
steep hill on foot. But owing to the long fasting and privation
endured by all, the limbs of the weaker soon refused the task,
and after the first two miles they dropped fast in the rear.
" Fanned by the fiery blast of the midnight sirocco, the cry

NAPIER'S MARCH ON MAGDALA.

1896.] THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN. ' 237

for water, uttered feebly and with difficulty, by numbers of
parched throats, now became incessant ; and the supply of that
precious element brought for the whole party falling short of
one gallon and a half, it was not long to be answered. A sip
of diluted vinegar for a moment assuaging the burning thirst
which raged in the vitals, again raised their drooping souls ; but
its effects were transient, and after struggling a few steps, over-
whelmed, they sunk again, with husky voice declaring their
days to be numbered, and their resolution to rise no more.'
One of the guides pushed forward, and after a time returned
with a single skin of muddy water, which he had forcibly taken,
from a Bedouin. This supply saved the lives of many of the
party, who had fallen fainting on the sands, and by sunrise they
all reached the little rill of Goongoonteh.

" Here terminated the dreary passage of the dire Tehama —
an iron-bound waste which, at this inauspicious season of the
year, opposes difficulties almost overwhelming in the path of the
traveller. Setting aside the total absence of water and forage
throughout a burning tract of fifty miles — its manifold intricate
mountain passes, barely wide, enough to admit the transit of a
loaded camel, the bitter animosity of the wild, blood-thirsty
tribes by which they are infested, and the uniform badness of
the road, if road it may be termed, everywhere beset with the
jagged blocks of lava, and intersected by perilous acclivities
and descents — it is no exaggeration to state, that the stifling
sirocco which sweeps across the unwholesome salt flat during
the hotter months of the year could not fail, within eight-and-
forty hours, to destroy the hardiest European adventurer.

"The ravine in which they were encamped was the scene of
a terrible tragedy on the following night. Favored by the
obscurity of the place, some marauding Bedouins succeeded in
stealing past the sentries; a wild cry aroused the camp, and as
the frightened men ran to the spot whence it proceeded,
Sergeant Walpole and Corporal Wilson were discovered in the
last agonies of death. One had been struck with a creese in
the carotid artery immediately below the ear, and the other
stabbed through the heart ; while speechless beside their
mangled bodies was stretched a Portuguese follower, with a
frightful gash across the abdomen. No attempt to plunder ap-
peared as an excuse for the outrage, and the only object doubt-
less was the acquisition of that barbarous estimation and distinc-
tion which is to be arrived at through deeds of assassination and
blood. For every victim, sleeping or waking, that falls under the
murderous knife of one of these fiends, he is entitled to display
VOL. LXIII.— 16

238

THE ETHIOPIAN' s UNCHANGED SKIN.

[May,

a white ostrich-plume in his woolly hair, to wear on the arm an
additional bracelet of copper, and to adorn the hilt of his reek-
ing creese with yet another stud of silver or pewter. Ere the
day dawned the mangled bodies of the dead, now stiff and
stark, were consigned by their sorrowing comrades to rude but
compact receptacles — untimely tombs constructed by the native
escort, who had voluntarily addressed themselves to the task."

A KINGDOM WITH A PEDIGREE.

No high-sounding phrases about the march of civilization
and the survival of the fittest in race-struggles can win the
sympathy of honest men for Italy in this desperate enterprise.

SHIPS OF THE DESERT.

Here she is, an upstart power of yesterday, a mushroom
sovereignty, founded on usurpation, international brigandage,
and violated faith, making war upon and breaking into the
territory of one of the oldest monarchies in the world. Though
the plane of civilization may not be as high in Abyssinia as
it is in Italy, the fundamental ethics of human society are
much better respected. It is an old state which seeks no ag-
grandizement at the expense of its neighbors ; it has had a set-
tled government and an organized life for a period stretching
back into the very dawn of history. Its monarchy certainly
shows an antiquity as remote as the days of King Solomon,
who is claimed indeed as the founder of the present royal line
of Abyssinia through the Queen of Sheba. Save for the occa-
sional outbreak of internal dissensions it is usually a pacific
state, rarely giving offence to outside people, yet always strong

1896.] THE ETHIOPIAN'S UNCHANGED SKIN. 239

enough to resist and punish aggression. All nations who respect
international right must condemn the principle that peaceable
states of this kind may with impunity be attacked by poor and
reckless outsiders in the absence of any just cause of war. The
fact that the invading race is lighter in skin than the invaded
one is but a poor pretence indeed, yet it is the only one dis-
cernible in this particular instance. Even on this ground there
is not much to be said. Many shades of color are found in
Abyssinia, ranging from the light olive to the dingy black. But
the majority of the people are of a bronze or olive complexion,
only a shade or two darker than the Italians ; and they are
classified by ethnologists as of the Caucasian race.

A SURVIVAL OF THE GREAT AFRICAN CHURCH.

Abyssinia has a claim on our sympathy as being the only
Christian kingdom in Africa, although if it happened to be
pagan the moral guilt of wrong-doing toward it by another
nation would not be lessened. Its Christianity, it is true, has
fallen into debasement, but yet it is in communion with the
Coptic Church. It is governed in spiritual matters by a pre-
late called an Abouna. Over the Abouna is the Patriarch of
Alexandria, and before an Abouna can be consecrated and sent
to Abyssinia the consent of the Egyptian government must be
obtained. As the Coptic Church was recently received back
into the Latin fold, it follows that Abyssinia must be regarded
in the future as a remote branch of the Catholic Church. As
it is, it possesses the great essentials of the Catholic faith,
although in many respects it follows Jewish customs, especially
regarding circumcision and the rejection of cloven-footed ani-
mals as food. The fusion of so much that is Jewish with the
customs of Christianity is accounted for by the close connec-
tion that subsisted for centuries between Judea and Abyssinia,
and the fact that great numbers of Jews took refuge in the
country during the era of the Captivity. It was early in the
fourth century that Christianity was introduced, St. Athanasius
consecrating the first bishop for the country, whose name was
Frumentius. It was not long after until many communities of
monks were established in Abyssinia, and the work of spreading
the light of religion went on rapidly. The Church of Abyssinia
became in time a powerful light in Africa, and so it remained until
the great wave of Mohammedan conquest swept over the north
and cut the Abyssinians off completely from the outside world.
After the lapse of centuries some explorers from Portugal
opened the country up anew to more civilizing influences. The

THE ETHIOPIAN" s UNCHANGED SKIN.

[May,

old tradition of Prester John and his wondrous Christian king-
dom in the centre of Africa beyond the great desert had caught
the fancy of many a traveller and inflamed the imagination of
many an adventurer. Among the expeditions sent out from
Spain and Portugal that of Pedro de Covelham was at last
successful in finding the mysterious potentate, in the Negus or
Emperor of Abyssinia, and establishing friendly relations be-
tween his country and the long-hidden Christian state. The
earliest reliable account of the kingdom was given thirty years
later (A.D. 1520) by a Portuguese priest, Father Alvarez, who
accompanied a Portuguese embassy to the Negus. A friend-
ship of a substantial character was established between the two
countries. The Portuguese proved its sincerity by dispatching

AMUSEMENTS ON THE BLUE NILE.

a fleet to Massowah, under Stephen de Gama, with an armed
force to help the Abyssinians against the Mohammedans, who
had invaded the country. The invaders were driven out, but
not until the leaders on both sides were killed. The Negus
appears to have proved ungrateful for this service, for he soon
afterward quarrelled with the Catholic primate, Bermudez, who
had long been resident in the country and brought many zeal-
ous Jesuits with him. Another able priest, Father Paez, who
came to Abyssinia at the beginning of the next century, by
his tact and energy smoothed over all difficulties and resumed
the work of his predecessors with great energy and success.
In 1633, however, the Negus Tacilidas, breaking away from the
policy of his ancestors, picked a quarrel with the Jesuits and
sent them all out of the country, and from that period until

1896.] CELTIC LULLABY. 241

comparatively recent times Abyssinia appears to have been
completely out of the range of human interest, so little was
known or heard about it. It was not until the imprisonment
of some English missionaries by the Emperor Theodore that
the world in general ever dreamed of such a place being in
existence. It is little wonder, from what took place then, that
the Abyssinians should distrust the advances of Europeans.
" First you send a missionary," said the unfortunate monarch ;
" next a consul to take care of him, and then an army to take
care of the consul." This bitter epigram does not apply, how-
ever, to the case of our Catholic missionaries, and if the present
war should happily be brought to a close by some peaceful
mediation, as it certainly should be, there would appear to be
a fine field in this interesting old kingdom of Prester John's
for their beneficent efforts.

CELTIC LULLABY.

BY J. B. DOLLARD (" Slieve-na-Mon ").

LANNA ban dhas,* my bright-haired child,
Sleep sweetly ; sleep, my white lamb mild ;
Ever your red lips seeming to say
I Tha me cullas, na dhusca ;«/.f

Out on the moorland 'tis lonely night ;
Pale burns the jack-o'-the-lanthorn light.
The sough of the wild shee guiha % I hear :
Angels of God, guard well my dear ;

From harm and evil shield him well ;
The perils of night and the fairies' spell.
When daisies dance in the morning light
My joy will wake like a flow'ret bright.

Macushla, storin,§ oh, softly sleep
(Like banshee wailing, the night-blasts sweep) ;
Your sweet lips kissing, they seem to say
Tha me ctillas, na dhusca me'.

* Lit. My beautiful, fair child.

t Lit. I am asleep ; do not waken me. The Irish name of a beautiful old air.

JShee geeha — a fairy whirlwind. § Macushla, storin — my pulse, my little treasure.

242 FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. [May,

THE FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND
IN NEW.

BY F. W. PELLY, B.A. OXON,

"HERE is nothing, perhaps, which appeals more
directly to the innate poetic sentiment of the
cultured American traveller than a glimpse into
the life of rural England. There is the parish
church, with, perhaps, its Roman bricks that
carry us back fifteen hundred years, its mullioned windows
which tell in detail the history of the church, its ivy-clad tower,
its mute witness in wood and stone, in rood-screen, or carved
sedilia and piscina, to the belief of other days.

There is the old manor-house with its quaint gables ; its old-
fashioned, high-walled garden ; its ample park, studded with
venerable oaks. And there are the rich, smiling fields, radiant
with a beauty of their own, and divided from each other by
luxuriant hedges, which in the main, it is said, follow to this
day the lines of Saxon, or even, possibly, of Roman demarca-
tion. There are the beautiful, old-fashioned cottages, some white
with great black oak beams showing forth, or tinted, it may be,
with some red or saffron color, which harmonizes admirably with
the gray skies and bright green fields of the surrounding land-
scape.

All this never fails to call forth the frank and hearty admir-
ation of the American visitor. When, however, the traveller
begins, as he invariably does, to inquire into matters — when he
hears of the condition of the laborer, his food, his wages, his
prospects in life — a feeling of unmitigated surprise takes posses-
sion of him, and with somewhat of impatience and disgust he
wonders how men can be found who are still willing to live
this dreary life.

For the purposes of comparison let us take the fertile coun-
ty of Essex, in Old England, from which so many of the origi-
nal " Pilgrims " came, and let us contrast it with that New
England which has arisen upon these shores.

A residence of many years in that county enables the writer
from personal knowledge to adduce sundry facts and figures
which are startling to a degree.

1896.] FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. 243

Let us begin with the hours of labor exacted from the
Essex farm-hand, and the remuneration which is graciously
accorded by the bountiful hand of his employer.

The summer-hours of the Essex laborer are from 6 A. M.
to 6 P. M., with an interval for dinner.

In return for these 66 hours of labor he receives the sumptuous
wage of $2.50 ! Not, be it remarked, $2.50 a day (a sum not
deemed extravagant in certain quarters in the United States),
but $2.50 a week.

On this stupendous wage, grudgingly given and ever in dan-
ger of reduction where no Laborers' Union exists, the Essex man
is expected to live, bring up his family, and save a sufficiency
to provide for old age.

The gentle, but slightly incredulous, reader will naturally
manifest a desire to know how this can be done, and doubtless
would fain penetrate into the mysteries of the laborer's budget.

We hasten to satisfy this modest demand, and by way of doing
so append a fairly typical statement of weekly expenditure for
man, wife, and six children :

Bread, . . . , .. • , $1.25

Rent, 40

Butter, . . . >. ,-,; . .12

Cheese, . . . , . . .12

i Ib. Pork for Sunday, . . .16

y± Ib. Tea, . . . \ .' .12

Clubs, . . . ; ,„ . :.<». .08

Fuel, . . . . . . .25

Total, . . :;... ,. $2.50

Some experienced housewives informed the writer that, with
a family of six, they would allow $1.50 for bread, in which case,
of course, some other items must of necessity be eliminated
from the not too lavish menu of the simple household.

Perhaps it may be thought that we have chosen an extreme
case — a family of six juveniles, all non-workers. On the other
hand, large families are the rule in this district, and the pinch
of poverty is most keenly felt in the early days of married
life.

As soon as the School Law allows (and ofttimes long before)
little Tom fares forth to the fields and earns his first money by
scaring rooks. For this he feels himself well remunerated if he

244 FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. [May,

receives 16, or possibly even 25, cents a week. This sum is
proudly paid into the family exchequer. When Tom reaches
the age of thirteen he can defy the school-district officers and
is sure of an income of 38 cents per week.

It will be seen from the above financial statement that the
laborer's lot is a hard one, and that his table is furnished in a
style that would be deemed distinctly inefficient by the habitut!
•of Delmonico's.

In order, however, to give an accurate presentment of the
state of the case, it is necessary to mention certain alleviations
which do something to modify the hardness of his lot.

I. First there is the matter of "allotments." If local circum-
stances are propitious he can hire an allotment, and from this
strip of land he will, by extra work, obtain an ample supply of
plain vegetables; and this undoubtedly does somewhat to miti-
gate the austerity of his daily bill of fare. Directly after his
supper the Essex laborer proceeds to his allotment, and there,
despite the eleven hours that he has already fulfilled, works
strenuously at his little patch of land while daylight lasts.

The present writer has had opportunities of witnessing diverse
methods of cultivation, from the free-and-easy scratching of the
rich prairie soil in North-west Canada to the magnificent high
farming of the Scottish Lowlands, but never anywhere has he
seen anything to compare with that which was achieved by
spade industry on the Essex laborer's allotment. The thorough-
ness of the cultivation, the care with which every inch of ground
was utilized, the skill whereby one crop of vegetables succeeded
another in the same year and on the same patch, call for un-
bounded admiration.

It will perhaps seem scarcely credible, yet is none the less
true, that the local magnates — with a few brilliant exceptions —
have steadily thwarted the desire of the laborer to obtain ac-
•cess to the land. Either there were no available allotments, or
they were a mile away from the home of the laborer — a con-
sideration when the days are short — or the price demanded was
exorbitant, or some utterly second-rate field was offered. At a
time when the average farm was reduced to prairie value, and
hundreds of acres were to let, the farm-hand had to pay for the
strip which he treats with such loving care from one hundred to
six hundred per cent., in a given case, on the letting value of
the average farm. This is a fair specimen of the lofty intelli-
gence which sways the mind of the bucolic magnate, the great
land-owner of the neighborhood !

i8g6.'] FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. 245

True it is, that in quite recent times local councils have
been established with power compulsorily to hire or purchase
land for allotments in a suitable locality. From this concession
ecstatic politicians prophesied a speedy rural millennium.

Let us see, however, what the result really is. The influ-
ence of the squire (land-owner) and parson is still predominant,
and they, with the farmers, form a small but solid phalanx in
the village council.

The village reformer, generally a marked man, on whom
some day the ban of exile will fall, rises, let us say, and in an
access of courage proposes that a particular field of the land-
owner's be purchased (or hired at judicial rent) for allotments.
The landlord and parson eye the speaker in a manner not sug-
gestive of benevolence ; there is a brief debate and the proposal
is carried. The point is gained in theory, it is true, but cut
bono ? The venturesome one loses his work, and what avail is
it to him to have the by-products from a convenient allotment
if his main stand-by (his daily work) is taken -from him ? One
by one the other venturesome ones are similarly punished for
their temerity in voting with him.

In short, theories apart, you have to reckon with the fact —
inconceivable to Americans — that the whole parish is generally
under the sway of the landlord, or squire, as he is called. He
controls the tenant farmers ; they control the laborer. The too
courageous laborer, the man of ideas, is not wanted. Employ-
ment is denied him on all sides, and he must leave the parish.
What this means to the hapless, stay-at-home Essex laborer it
may be impossible to convey to the facile and adaptive mind
of his kinsman in the States, who thinks nothing of moving to
another State a thousand miles away.

It is on record that one man lost his work for the avowed
reason that he was a " Radical," the squire of course being a
true-blue, undiluted Tory of the eighteenth century type. An-
other because he was secretary to a laborers' union. The union
had been started in sheer desperation, wages having been syste-
matically and cruelly reduced until they reached starvation
limit — two dollars per week. By means of the union the scale
was raised until, for a brief while, it reached $2.75 per week.
Then followed a period of disaster — wages fell to $2.25, and may
yet go lower if the employers dare.

Meanwhile the secretary, an honest, well-meaning, and very
respectable young fellow, was persistently boycotted, and had
to leave the parish where he was born and bred.

246 FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. [May,

These are not isolated cases — hundreds more might be ad-
duced.

It will be seen, therefore, that the millennium is not yet.

2. Alleviation number two consists in the fact that our
friend receives additional pay for additional work in hay-time
and harvest. Of course work on allotments must go to the
wall for awhile.

Meantime for a few weeks the pay of the farm-hand is prac-
tically doubled. This is triumphantly adduced, by his hereditary
enemies, as evidence that his lot is by no means pitiable.

Let us, however, preserve our academic calm and inquire a
little further :

For this additional and temporary wage the laborer has often
wrought eighteen hours out of the twenty-four. We are not,
therefore, inclined to think that the money is dishonestly ob-
tained.

Moreover there are, in this connection, one or two points
still to be noted.

In the weekly budget already presented it will be observed
that no mention is made of clothes or boots — a *woful item in
a heavy clay country — and it is presumable that even the most
drastic of local magnates would not dispute the necessity of
some such articles of apparel.

Where are they to come from ? The weekly budget allows
no margin. It is from the harvest money alone that the poor
housewife buys her little stock of clothes for the whole family.

Nor is this the sole destination of the extra pay. In winter
our poor friend has perhaps for weeks been out of work, and
on rainy days is cruelly sent home in many cases.

Where is the bread to come from ? The only resource is a
long bill for bare necessaries at the village shop, and it is from
the harvest money that the reckoning is paid.

3. Alleviation number three is perhaps the most painful to
mention. It consists in charitable doles, pauperizing, inefficient
and often administered with the most maddening favoritism.

Cast-off clothes are eagerly sought for, and in winter soup is
doled out to those who are out of work.

Coal clubs, etc., exist in particular places, and at Christmas
my Lady Bountiful, with much condescension, distributes a small
quantity of meat to certain favored households. Such is the
level to which the honest and industrious tiller of the soil is
reduced in a Christian country at the latter end of the nine-
teenth century !

1896.] FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. 247

But, some reader may inquire, how is it that in this en-
lightened age such a state can possibly exist ?

An adequate answer to that question would require a vol-
ume in order duly and accurately to make presentment of the
whole case. A few leading points, however, may be lightly
touched upon. The possession of land in England always car-
ries with it high social and other privileges, imparting a ficti-
tious importance to the owner which the average American
finds it difficult to realize, or in any way understand. This, of
course, enhances the value of landed estate.

Again, in the halcyon days when the landed interest was
protected by law, when wages were low — $1.75 a week! — and
bread dear, when no dream of American competition dawned
on the minds of men, large fortunes were made from land, and
an entirely fictitious and temporary value was attached to it.
Prices altogether beyond the normal value — sometimes double
— were paid for it, and it was imagined that the " boom," so
to speak, would last for ever. In effect, it was an era of not
too wise speculation, and for many years one unheeded econo-
mist predicted a disaster. In due course it came, and interest
now centred in the question, " Who must pay the penalty for
this error in speculation?"

Not the land-owner ; Heaven forfend !

" Let arts and commerce, laws and learning die,
But leave us still our old nobility ! "

So sang, in lyric phrase, one great land-owner, now an Eng-
lish duke.

The land-owner must still have his carriages, his wines, his
servants, his whole manage well nigh as before. There is an
easier remedy : rack-rent the farmers, who cannot well resist,
or try a cut in wages. What more simple ?

Now, here let it be remarked that the English farmer is not
adaptive, as is his American cousin. He cannot possibly quit
the profession in which his whole life has been spent, and at
which he is probably unsurpassed. Nothing remains for him
but to accept the rack-rent, which he well knows leaves him an
insufficient margin for existence. He is harassed on every side.
He has local burdens on the land which would make a New
England farmer stare, and which are regulated on the same
scale as when prices ruled high and farming was a paying
industry. But we must not deal in generalities. We therefore

248 FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. [May,

append a brief but fairly typical summary of the local burdens
which the farmer has to pay :

Poor rate, per acre, .... $0.75

Highway rate, per acre, .... .38

Schools, per acre, . . . . .18

Tithe, per acre, ..... 1.34

Total per acre, .... $2.65

Thus, on a farm of 300 acres the local rates and taxes
would amount to no less a sum than $795, and this takes no
account of imperial taxes and other burdens which must be
met. Fancy the feelings of a Connecticut farmer if asked to
pay $795 for schools, roads, poor, etc., on a 3OO-acre farm !
He would straightway pull up his stakes and be gone.

Of the list of local burdens here mentioned one item (tithe)
requires an explanatory word. This is a heavy first charge
upon land, amounting in the case cited (no unusual one) to
$1.34 per acre. Generally speaking it is divided into greater
and lesser tithe. The latter goes to the" support of the Angli-
can clergyman ; the greater tithe is not unfrequently in lay
hands. Until the time of Henry VIII. of pious memory the
greater tithes were often in the hands of some monastery as
rector, and they appointed some priest as vicar to discharge the
parochial duties. Hence the difference of designation in so
many English parishes.

Now let it be borne in mind that the old English monastery
was often the public school, the religious seminary, the hospital,
the poor-house, and even in some sort the hostelry for belated
travellers of whatever rank. Their revenues, therefore (greater
tithe included), were of national benefit, and at the same time
the Poor Law, the great curse of modern England, was un-
known. When, therefore, Henry VIII. scattered the greater
tithe amongst his courtiers, a double wrong was inflicted upon
the farmer. He paid his tithe as heretofore and was saddled
in addition with a poor rate, a burden hitherto unknown and
which, in clerical hands, the greater tithe had rendered un-
necessary.

Surely this is a cruel wrong which cries aloud for redress.
Surely, too, Protestant principles and the glorious reigns of
Henry and Elizabeth have proved an expensive luxury for the
British farmer.

All things considered, it is not much to be wondered at if

1896'.] FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. 249.

the poor farmer, with low prices and high rents, with burdens
innumerable and the keen competition of his unshackled
American cousin, is unable to rise above the feelings of his
class, and when a difficulty occurs in matters financial imme-
diately visits it upon the wages of labor.

The policy is none the less crassly short-sighted, and is pro-
ductive of a lurking bitterness which, though latent, is always
there.

So far as the farm-hand is concerned, it is matter for sorrow-
ful reflection that the purchasing power of his wage is less at
the present day than it was six hundred years ago. No wonder
if there is upon him the downcast look of the oppressed. His
is indeed a dull life, the life of a beast of burden, varied only
by the mild excitement of the annual missionary meeting, or of
some occasional village concert, given with becoming conde-
scension by the family of the local magnate, or his trusty
henchman, the parson. If, however, you think that the laborer,
because of his slouching gait and downcast demeanor, is with-
out wit or shrewdness, you are greatly mistaken. An abundant
sense of humor lurks under the taciturnity of him who, by
generations of oppression, has learnt to be discreetly silent in
the presence of his " betters."

Let us now for a brief moment take a peep at our friend's
home. It is a picturesque old cottage, with huge chimney and
thatched roof. There is a Virginia creeper climbing up the
walls, and in the tiniest of gardens (literally a yard or two
square) there is a profusion of quaint old English flowers.
Inside there is a fine old kitchen with brick floor and a fire-
place of huge dimensions. Upstairs there is often only one
room, divided off by a curtain.

If our friend is at home, we may perhaps find him discuss-
ing his breakfast, bread, tea (which has been stewing for
hours), and a raw onion or turnip, which he is cutting with his
great pocket-knife. If he is at lunch, we shall find bread,
cheese, tea, or beer, which he brews for twelve cents a gallon.
Supper, however, is the principal meal. Here he has vegetables
in abundance, bread, cheese, butter, and in harvest-time even
meat !

The saddest period for the Essex farm-hand comes when he
is no longer able to work. Ninety per cent, of the men have
been thrifty, and for twenty or thirty years have paid into some
club which was financially unsound and which broke up just as
its aid was needed.

250 FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. [May,

The amount thus lost by the unfortunate would probably be
from $100 to $125, a sum which, if otherwise invested, would
have met every absolute need. As it is, in due course appli-
cation must be made to the Board of Guardians for out-door
relief. The board consists entirely of men whose interests are
diametrically opposed to the laborer : farmers, a few clergymen
and the local magnates, ex-officio, as justices of the peace.

As a guardian of the poor for several years, the present
writer gives it as his deliberate conviction that no more satanic
engine of cruelty and oppression ever existed in a civilized
state. The brow-beating of the poor applicant before forty of
his hereditary foes, the false statements of the Poor-Law officers,
eager to curry favor with the powers that be, and finally the
invariable and magnanimous offer of the poor-house to the
toil-worn tiller of the soil — these form the staple business at
board meetings.

The poor-house is in reality a sort of house, of detention,
and is hated by the poor. The board, therefore, use it as a
deterrent and offer it to almost all comers. The cost of main-
tenance inside the house is 60 cents per week : outside the
poor starveling would be glad of 40 or even 25 cents, if only
he might be allowed to keep his humble home. Many half
starve, or even wholly starve, rather than accept the bitter
alternative.

We give, in precis fashion, two typical instances, out of
many, to show the shameless effrontery and cruelty of the
board :

Case I. — Applicant, aged seventy, hard-working and respect-
able, applies for out-door relief. The chairman : t" I know the
case well, gentlemen, and I may tell you that for 20 years that
man has had $5 a week and ought to have laid by money."

Emphatic but mild protest from a guardian who knew bet-
ter. Case adjourned. On inquiry, it is found that the appli-
cant never received more than $2.50 per week in his life and
for many years only two dollars.

For very shame at the exposure of the falsehood relief (50
cents a week) is granted, but it is saddled on the old man's
struggling sons, both men with households of their own to
maintain !

Case //. — Urgent application by a clergyman on behalf of a
dying man, absolutely destitute and without bread. The Poor-
Law officer steps to the front with a smirk and remarks : " All
I can say is, that I saw a silver watch in the house, and there-

1896.] FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. 251

fore the man can't be destitute." Case adjourned for a fort-
night. One obstinate guardian determines to investigate, and
finds that the silver watch is an old nutmeg-grater. The officer
in fact has been grossly negligent or has glibly lied.

Meanwhile the applicant dies and goes, let us hope, to a
place where boards of guardians do not exist.

Surely the curse of God is upon such a system. Surely, too,
God's poor were better cared for in those days which some
silly people still call the "Dark Ages."

II.

Turn we now, by way of brief comparison, to the farm-hand
in New England.

There are some similarities and many equally marked con-
trasts. It is, in this case, no mere figure of speech to talk of
" kinsmen across the sea." Numbers of Essex men poured into
New England in the early colonial days. Contemporary records
tell us this, and to the lover of antiquity it is interesting to
find corroborative evidence of the fact in many of the place-
names in New England — Haverhill, Colchester, Debden, and
many others. The very speech of New England, which forms
occasionally the subject of much mild mirth, is but an accen-
tuated form of that still to be found in Essex and neighboring
counties.

When, however, we come to examine into the mode of
daily life the contrast at once becomes marked.

To begin with, our New England farm-hand has, as a moder-
ate compensation, four times the weekly wage of his Old-
English cousin. Nor is the superior wage discounted in effect
by increased cost of living. In New England food is plentiful,
and for the most part distinctly cheaper than in Old England.
Meat is nearly 50 per cent, cheaper, and nearly the same might
be said of fruit, milk, and other articles. Clothes, on the other
hand, are much dearer. It is possible, therefore, to strike a
pretty fair balance between the two.

The manner of life of the New-Englander is affected accord-
ingly. He has varied and plentiful fare; eats 'meat, not once
a week but twice or thrice a day, and has fruit, puddings,
cakes, vegetables, etc., in profusion. Indeed sometimes we in-
cline to the belief that he is a trifle wasteful in the matter of
food.

Tell all this to his English cousin, describe to him in detail
the New-Englander's life, and he will not believe you. His

252 FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. [May,

jaw will drop and the slow smile of incredulity will pass over
his face. He will be still outwardly deferential, but in the
bosom of his family and in the privacy of his domestic circle
he will wax jocular and say, " What wonnerful liars these trav-
ellers be, to be sure ! "

Another and a most marked contrast is to be found in the
fact that the New-Englander has a prospect in life, which the
other has not. If he is steady and industrious, many are the
opportunities which open up for him. He may become the
care-taker for one of the abandoned farms, or not improbably
blossom into a farmer himself. It does one good to hear his
enthusiasm, if he is a genuine lover of the soil. From his milk
he gets a steady income ; his fruit-trees yield well ; and when
he goes on to tell you, in an expansive moment, of the
profits he has made on his geese and ducks, of his " incuba-
tors" and "brooder" houses, and the number of "broilers" he
has sent to New York, the city visitor is fairly carried away by
the prevailing enthusiasm, and has visions, then and there, of
purchasing a homestead and settling for good and all in this
guileless Arcadia.

It is unfortunately the case that, whether from the haste to
get rich, or from the attractions of the city, or from the
gregarious instinct of the nineteenth century, there is a decided
exodus toward the great cities. If we regard the virility and
longevity of the nation at large, this is a movement to be
deprecated. Farm-life may not lead to the rapid accumulation
of money, but it has its advantages. It is remarkably free and
healthful ; there is no crowding by hundreds into foetid " flats " ;
and if the process of achieving an independence is slow, it
is none the less sure. There are comparatively few of the
industrious workers who do not possess their little property in
house or land, and who are not well assured against sickness
or death. They have toiled, indeed, but they have something
to show for their toil.

Our New England farm-hand is an independent entity. He
owns no man for squire or over-lord. He has no need to cringe
to any man for a morsel of bread. He can look his fellow-men
squarely in the face. He has no need to fear.

Nay more, he is treated as becometh a citizen. " Whene'er
he takes his walks abroad " — or, in other words, goes off on a
visit — his comings and goings are duly chronicled in the local
newspaper. This would be a thing unheard-of in the case of
his cousin in England, unless indeed he committed murder or

1896.] FARM-HAND IN OLD ENGLAND AND IN NEW. 253

suicide. Then, to be sure, columns would be devoted to his
case.

As to offering cast-off clothes to our New-Englander, we
have but to recall the appearance of our friend on Sunday.
We bethink ourselves of that well-fitting coat, that glossy hat,
and that faultless crease which gives such lofty tone to his
other garment, and then we go home and, looking at our cast-
off coat, waistcoat, and pants, we are convinced that we should
as soon think of offering them to our immaculate friend as we
would to the Prince of Wales!

Thus, it will be seen that our friend lives respected and
independent, and provides duly for wife and family. When he
dies his virtues are commemorated in the local print. As to
the funeral (if that be a desideratum), it is an " elegant " one.
With a fine hearse, many carriages, and all the panoply of woe,
it is indeed an imposing function. With her nice little pro-
perty duly secured, and with all this display of valedictory
respect, what could the heart of widow desire more?

The fate of his English cousin is far different. His remains
are thrust into a villanous coffin which scarcely holds together
till it reaches the earth. Yet here lies one who has toiled
valiantly all the days of his life, and the aggregate of whose
toil, in another clime and under other environment, might have
achieved mighty things. And this is the end — a pauper funeral !
Yet, in his day and generation, he battled uncomplainingly with
the sorrows of life. For him, pauper though he be, the bright
eyes of his daughters (themselves lamentably poor) are stream-
ing with tears, and far away in the poor-house there the aged
widow mourns for her " old man," and knows that it will not
be long before she too is called to join him in another land.

VOL. LXIII. — 17

254 SOME FAMOUS RINGS. [May,

SOME FAMOUS RINGS.

BY M. J. ONAHAN.

• HE history and poetry of rings is more curious
and more fascinating than that of dynasties
and of princes. A ring has been the symbol of
power ; it has been also the mark of slavery ;
affection and friendship have wrought it into a
remembrance ; love has placed it encircling with its gentle pres-
sure a vein supposed to vibrate in the heart. Millions upon
millions have been bound together with it for better, for worse,
more firmly than ever shackles have bound a felon. It decks
the finger of the blushing maiden standing shyly, half reluctant,
wholly willing, at the portal of Love's sweet fane ; it gleams
bright and pure and steady upon the hand of the new-made
wife, token of the love she has vowed ; it shines, though none
can see, in the darkness of many a coffin, emblem of man's
immortality.

The origin of the ring is shrouded in mythology. The old
story of Prometheus is well known ; how Jupiter in a fit of
rage chained Prometheus to a rock on the Caucasus and sent a
vulture to feed upon him. According to Hesiod, the god had
sworn to keep him there eternally ; according to other authors,
his rage was not so boundless. At any rate, so the story runs,
even the terrible Jove relented and pardoned Prometheus ; but
in order not to violate his oath he commanded that he should
always wear upon his finger an iron ring in which was fastened
a small fragment of Caucasus, so that it should still be true in
a certain sense that Prometheus was bound to tHe rock. This
was the origin of the ring, according to Hesiod, as well as the
insertion of the first stone.

On the other hand, Pliny declares that the inventor of the
ring is not known. It was in use among the Babylonians, Per-
sians, and Greeks, although the latter were probably unac-
quainted with it at the time of the Trojan War, as Homer
does not mention it. Southey's Commonplace Book contains the
following quotation from the Treasure of Auncient and Moderne
Times : " But the good olde man Plinie can not overreach us
with his idle arguments and conjectures, for we read in Gene-

1896.]

SOME FAMOUS RINGS.

255

sis that Joseph, who lived five hundred years before the warres
of Troy, having expounded the dreame of Pharao, King of
Egypt, was by the sayde prince made superintendent over his
kingdom, and for his safer possession in that estate, he took off
his ring from his hand and put it on Joseph's hand. In
Moses' time, which was more than foure hundred yeares before
Troy warres, wee find rings to be then in use ; for wee reade
that they were comprehended in the ornaments which Aaron the
high-priest should weare, and they of his posteritie afterward ;
as also it was avouched by Josephus. Whereby appeareth plainly,
that the use of rings was much more ancient than Plinie
reporteth them in his conjectures; but as he was a pagan, and
ignorant in sacred
writings," the old
chronicler goes on
to add, " so it is
no marvel if these
things went be-
yond his know-
ledge."

The ring given
by Pharao to Jos-
eph is actually in
existence, and is
now in the posses-
sion of the Earl
of Ashburnham.
It was discovered
in 1824 by Arab
workmen in a tomb in the necropolis of Sakkara, near Mem-
phis. The mummy was cased in gold, each finger had its par-
ticular envelope, inscribed with hieroglyphics. " So Joseph died,
being an hundred and ten years old, and they embalmed him
and he was put in a coffin in Egypt."

Joseph's ring, though one of the most valuable antiques in
the world, is put quite in the shade by another ring, older
still — the ring of Suphis, or Cheops, King of Memphis, who
erected the Great Pyramid for his monument. Like all the
Egyptian rings, it is covered with hieroglyphics, figures of Isis,
Osiris, the lotus, the crocodile, and the whole symbolic Egyp-
tian mythology. This ring is now in New York in the posses-
sion of a famous collector.

Rings have been discovered in the cinerary urns of • the

JOSEPH'S RING, FOUND IN OPENING A TOMB IN 1824.

256

SOME FAMOUS RINGS.

[May,

Greeks ; as they could scarcely have withstood the fire through
which dead bodies were passed, they must have been placed
there as tokens of affection by relatives or friends. It was
against the laws of Rome to bury gold with the dead, so that
the rings found in Roman urns must have been secreted there.
There was one curious exception to this rule, which seems like
a bit of satire on our vaunted modern progress. The gold that
fastened false teeth in the mouth of the deceased was exempt
and might be buried with the body. Dentistry has not made
such wonderful progress in these two thousand years after all.

Skeletons of Roman knights have been discovered in the
tombs of the Sierra Elvira, in Spain, with rings upon their fin-
gers, and some of them had in their mouths the piece of money
in the form of a ring destined to pay the ferryman Charon.
What a pity that the modern world can no longer avail itself

of such billets c? admission !
The old ferryman has fallen
into decrepitude and dis-
repute, his occupation gone,
his authority entirely an-
nulled. According to mod-
ern belief, when men set
out on their journey to

that unknown shore they must leave gold and" silver behind
them. Good deeds are the only coins that are current.

Rings were in use among the Gauls and Britons. William
de Belmeis gave certain lands to St. Paul's Cathedral, and
directed that his ring, set with a ruby, should, together with the
seal, be affixed to the charter for ever. Jewellers and goldsmiths
were highly esteemed in those days. " Even the clergy," says
Edwards in his very curious book on rings, " thought it no dis-
grace to handle tools. St. Dunstan in particular was celebrated
as the best blacksmith, brazier, goldsmith, and engraver of his
time. This accounts for the cleverness with which he laid hold
of the gentleman in black :

" St. Dunstan stood in his ivy'd tower —
Alembic, crucible, all were there ;
When in came Nick, to play him a trick,
In guise of a damsel passing fair.

Every one knows

How the story goes —
He took up the tongs and caught hold of his nose ! "

RING OF CHEOPS, THE MOST VALUABLE ANTIQUE
RING IN THE WORLD.

1896.]

SOME FAMOUS RINGS,

257

Rings have been made of almost every hard substance known,
gold, silver, bronze, iron, stone, ivory, porcelain, amber, jet, and
even of glass. The first mention of a Roman gold ring is in
the year 432, but they soon came to be indiscriminately worn.
Three bushels were gathered out of the spoils after Hannibal's
victory at Cannae. The Romans not only cumbered their fin-
gers with a great number of rings, but some of them were of
extraordinary weight and size. An outline of one appears in
Montfaucon. This ring represents Trajan's good queen Plotina.
She has a glorious head-dress indeed, three rows of precious
stones cut in facets.

Rings have been worn on all fingers of both hands, but the
fourth finger of
the left hand has
been preferred to
all others from
the earliest times ;
hence it is called
the ring-finger.
Apropos of this
subject a charm-
ing old work, En-

ROMAN RING, ACTUAL SIZE.

quiries into Vul-
gar Errors, says :
"That hand (the
left) being lesse
employed, there-
by they were best
preserved, and for
the same reason
they placed them
on this finger, for
the thumbe was too active a finger, and is commonly employed
with either of the rest ; the index or fore finger was too naked
whereto to commit their pretiosities, and hath the tuition of the
thumbe scarce unto the second joynt ; the middle and little
fingers they rejected as extreams, and too big or too little for
their rings ; and of all chose out the fourth as being least used
of any, as being guarded on either side, and having in most this
peculiarity, that it cannot be extended alone and by itselfe, but
will be accompanied by some finger on either side."

The episcopal ring is esteemed as a pledge of the spiritual
marriage between the bishop and his church, and was used at

258

SOME FAMOUS RINGS.

[May,

a remote period. The decrees of the Roman See are signed
with a seal known as the Fisherman's Ring. This ring forms
an important feature in the funeral rites of a pontiff. The fol-
lowing is an account of the ceremonies attendant on the death
of a pope : " When a pope dies the cardinal chamberlain, ac-
companied by a large number of the high dignitaries of the
Papal court, comes into the room where the body lies, and the
principal or great notary makes an attestation of the circum-
stance. Then the cardinal chamberlain calls out the name of

the deceased pope three times, striking
the body each time with a hammer ; and
as no response comes the chief notary
makes another attestation. After this
the cardinal chamberlain demands the
Fisherman's Ring, and certain ceremo-
nies are performed over it ; and then
he strikes the ring with a golden ham-
mer, and an officer destroys the figure
of Peter by the use
of a file. From this
moment all the au-
thority and acts of the
late pope pass to the
College or Conclave of
Cardinals."

One of the most
curious as well as one
of the most valuable
of American rings is
that presented to Pres-
ident Pierce in 1852
by the citizens of Cali-
fornia. It is of mas-
sive gold, weighing up-
wards of a pound ;
the circular portion
is cut into squares
which stand at right
angles with each other,
and are embellished
each with a beautifully executed design, the entire group pre-
senting a pictorial history of California from her primitive state
down to the present time. The seal of the ring is really a lid

PRESENTED BY SOME CITIZENS OF CALIFORNIA.

1896.] SOME FAMOUS RINGS. 259

which swings upon a hinge, and is covered with the arms of
the State of California surmounted by the Stars and Stripes.
Underneath is a square box divided by bars of gold into nine
separate compartments, each containing a pure specimen of the
varieties of ore found in the country. On the inside is the
following inscription : " Presented to Franklin Pierce, the Four-
teenth President of the United States."

The rings in which poison was carried are numerous. Dumas,
in his Crimes Celebrex, tells of a ring worn by Caesar Borgia
composed of two lions' heads, the stone of which he turned in-
ward when pressing an enemy's hand. The teeth were charged
with poison. Needless to say the enemy never called again.
In older and more credulous times than ours even the stones
themselves were believed to have certain powers quite apart
from any such vulgar agency as poison. Such staid authorities
as Albertus Magnus and St. Jerome seem to have countenanced
this belief. The diamond was supposed to give one the power
of conquering enemies, it was also a safeguard against poison ;
the emerald was at enmity with all impurity ; the topaz freed
men from sadness ; the agate made a man brave and strong ; the
sapphire procured the favor of princes ; the opal sharpened the
sight, etc.

In ancient times men, when dying, declared by the giving
of a ring who was to be their heir. In Ireland rings of remark-
able beauty have been found. We all remember Moore's lines :

" Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore " ;

which was, indeed, as some one remarks, a thoroughly Irish
way of wearing a ring. This was in the time of good King
Brian, who

". . . knew the way

To keep the peace and make them pay ;

For those who were bad, he knocked off their head ;

And those who were worse, he kilt them dead."

That "de'il o' Dundee" also had a ring of which the in-
scription, a thoroughly characteristic one, is still remaining.

Rings as love-tokens are as old as Love itself. Old Roman
rings have been found in which was a tiny socket for the in-
sertion of hair ; others had a whistle on one side (a case of
" Whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad," no doubt). Louis IX.

26o

SOME FAMOUS RINGS.

[May,

of France wore a ring representing a garland of marguerites and
fleurs-de-lis, in allusion to the name of his wife, Queen Margue-
rite, and the arms of France. Engraved on it were these words :
" This ring contains all we love."

Not only hearts but cities have been wedded with a ring.
Venice, that " white sea-gull of the Adriatic," was once annually
married with a ring. The stranger can yet see the richly gilt
galley, called the Bucentaur, in which the doge, from the year
1311, went forth on Ascension morning to throw a ring into the
water, as a sign of the power of Venice over that sea and of
the union which he renewed between them.

Thus, for better, for worse, in the vowing of Life and the
dealing of Death, these little emblems have swayed the world.
What is all creation, indeed, but a ring — a ring that means at
once Power and Love Eternal ? It is on the earth, in the sky,
everywhere. Above our heads it shines as Saturn gleams blue
and bright upon the horizon, showing us how the world was made.
Farther still, millions and millions of miles, rising through des-
erts of space in Ariadne's Crown, it rests like a wreath of pro-
mise on the very zenith of the universe ; and as men gaze into
those starry depths they see, shining bright and clear, symbol
of their earthly vows, a ring, emblem of Life, of Hope, of
Love, of Immortality.

1896.] FRANCES SCHERVIER AND HER POOR SISTERS. 261

FRANCES SCHERVIER AND HER POOR SISTERS.*

BY JOSEPH WALTER WILSTACH.

HERE is one characteristic which is common of
all the saints, at least of all the holy men and
women of that golden list whose lives it has
been my pleasure and privilege to peruse, and
that is their capacity for great sacrifices. It is
almost a truism to say that all spiritual attainment runs parallel
to personal heroism. It is a truth which any one will acknowl-
edge at once who has read the record of but one saintly life.
The lesson of self-abnegation, so radiantly portrayed in the pil-
grimage of the greatest, is the primal note, so to speak, in the
music of every holy life. We are not surprised, therefore, to
find it so prominently manifest in the worthy woman, Frances
Schervier — the foundress of that holy sisterhood, the Poor Sis-
ters of St. Francis — a sisterhood that stands as a living illus-
tration of that mysterious and providential character which the
church has always borne, and which has been the stumbling-
block and at times the admiration of even those who oppose
her ; I mean her marvellous adaptability in her growth and de-
velopment to the various conditions of the world and human
society. All great movements, sealed by the church with the
sanction of her approval, from the days of the hermits of the
Thebaid down through the ages to our own time have had the
same character. They are plainly manifest in the light of his-
tory. The old dieth, the new is born ; but the new only in
appearance, for in principle it is one and the same, the ever
present and ever active inspiration, light, and guidance of the
Holy Spirit.

Frances Schervier, the chosen instrument for founding the
Poor Sisters of St. Francis, was born in the historic old city of
Aix la Chapelle, in 1819, of wealthy and devout parents. Her
youth, together with that of her brothers and sisters, was sacredly
guarded within the precincts of a well-ordered household pre-
sided over by a father and mother whose chief aim in the rear-
ing of their children was to keep their little ones unsullied by

* Mother Frances Schervier. By Rev. Father Jeiler, O.S.F., D.D. i vol. I2mo. St.
Louis, 1895.

262 FRANCES SCHERVIER AND HER POOR SISTERS. [May,

any sinful influences from without. In reading the account
which the learned and judicious Franciscan has written for us
in that land which is the cradle of the Franciscan Order, the
Catholic parent will find a model well worthy of emulation.
Such examples are rare indeed. But wherever they occur, the
result bears the marks of divine blessings in the holy after-lives
of the children.

Frances made her first Communion at the tender age of ten,
and by a coincidence which is worthy of note, and was ob-
served by her. at the time, on the feast day of St. Francis and
of our Lady of Victories, which occurred that year upon the
same day. When she was but fourteen years of age she lost
by death the pious mother who had nurtured her. This was a
great sorrow to the tender-hearted little girl. It left upon her
young shoulders the burden of a large house, and the guidance
of her young brothers and sisters. It was a school, however,
for the development and maturing of those abilities which would
bear their full fruit later when she became the spiritual mother
of a numerous sisterhood.

Much of the narrative of her inner life down to the time
of her early career as a religious is given in her own words,
taken from an account written by her only under the pressure
of obedience. It is remarkably simple and beautiful, and reflects
quite clearly the character of the writer. Through this crystal
medium we follow the spiritual progress of the saintly girl,
whose heart seems to have been preserved in the white robe of
baptismal innocence. Her vocation to be the foundress of a
congregation rich in works of the most humble charity and the
most rigid poverty of life, is manifested by her early love
towards the poor, the distressed, the despised, the fallen. If
there is any place where the evils of our century need the
break-water of the church it is at these special points. For
surely it is a century characterized for its mad race after riches
and pleasures, in which all the arts and genius of the various
peoples are enlisted ; wherein self-gratification and the deifica-
tion of the individual are being developed alongside of the most
utter unconcern for the wretchedness which pervades all the
lower stratum of society. . Setting aside and holding as naught
all the worldly advantages of her social position, her sole delight
was to fill the office of an angel of charity and mercy. All
the obstacles thrown in her way by her father and her rela-
tives were futile to divert her from the divinely directed course
of her life.

1896.] FRANCES SCHERVIER AND HER POOR SISTERS. 263

In 1841 the saintly girl met, in the person of Father Joseph
Istas, an ideal priest, whose heroic acts of charity she gladly
supplemented down to January, 1843, when this worthy repre-
sentative of the apostles was snatched away. She was present
and saw his edifying and holy death. When he had been clad
in priestly vestments and was laid in his coffin she came and
knelt there, the other inmates of the house having withdrawn.
After praying for a long time for the repose of his soul she
asked his aid for the continuation of their charitable work, for
the deserted poor and for herself. " I felt," she wrote, " a vehe-
ment desire to place his hand upon my head, for I had a holy
reverence for that anointed and priestly hand, which in life I
had always regarded as sacred and never touched, and which
he himself, when giving me money or other articles, knew to
use so adroitly that it never touched mine. I hesitated, but
finally my desire triumphed. With a look up to God, and pro-
testing in his and the deceased's presence that I acted from
the purest motive, I bowed profoundly and placed the dear
hand on my head. Oh ! how reverently I was then able to
pray, to beseech God to continue, through the intercession of
his servant, the work he had begun ; to bless it, and to infuse
into me some of the spirit of this saintly priest, that I might
conduct it in the right manner. O my God ! it was a supplica-
tion, a prayer which thou couldst not despise. . . ."

It was not until 1845 that the congregation of which she
became the foundress and unwilling head was established ; and
the records of the progress and development of the body are
minutely detailed in the narrative of Rev. Dr. Jeiler, and are
deeply edifying and instructive. The profound humility of the
able Mother Schervier and her distrust of her own abilities to
lead and govern are the same which have characterized other
great characters in similar positions. The success of her labors
as a foundress and a guardian of a religious congregation are
in striking contrast to her own poor idea of her uncommon
abilities.

Having established under divine guidance a sisterhood the
object of all whose cares, labors, and sacrifices was to be the
poor, the neglected, the abandoned — and especially the poor
women of the street, sunk in hopeless iniquity — one of the
cardinal principles incorporated into its rules by Mother
Schervier was that of holy poverty, exampled after the poverty
of St. Francis forbidding the holding of any property for the
purpose of livelihood, not only to individual members but also

264 FRANCES SCHERVIER AND HER POOR SISTERS. [May,

to the community. To this rule she heroically and determined-
ly clung in spite of all counsel of superiors, and finally got it
recognized by ecclesiastical authority. Her sole dependence
and that of her sisters was upon the providence of God. The
heroic nature of this apostolic woman welcomed for herself and
her valiant daughters the privations which this rule was sure to
entail. Although born in luxury herself, like many others who
had joined the congregation, she loved poverty, and those who
were its victims, for the sake of Him who had not whereon to
lay his head.

Her career from the foundation of her congregation down
to the hour of her death was that of a crucified life, full of
sublime effort and accomplishment, possible only where the
spirit through correspondence to divine grace has wholly sub-
jected the lower nature. The record of this life is for us a
sample of what the lives of thousands of holy women have
been during the past eighteen centuries, unrecorded by human
pen. It must force upon the mind the thought of how many
mute, inglorious saints have lived and died, full of merit before
God, known only to God, or, if known to their fellow-creatures,
their memory has died with the generation which revered them
as blessed, and which saw, and was better for, their bright ex-
amples.

In Europe the Poor Sisters of St. Francis had thirty-six
different institutions of chanty up to 1894. But it is not alone
to the crowded territory of Europe, where the miseries of pov-
erty and sin have so many victims, that the labors of the Poor
Sisters have been confined. As early as 1858 an institute of
their mercy and charity was established in America by sfsters
chosen by Mother Frances becaus-e of special fitness. At the
present time the congregation has fifteen houses in this coun-
try. Twice she visited America herself, to the holy joy of all
the sisterhood, to whom in both hemispheres she was in very
truth a mother, and who in turn loved her while she lived with
a more than natural love and mourned her when dead with a
more than human sorrow.

We are accustomed to think that this is not an age of
miracles — that it is not an age when the spirit of God is
breathing upon the world and moving chosen hearts to the
initiation and accomplishment of great works, similar to those
which mark epochs in departed centuries. But he who reads
the life of Mother Frances Schervier will rise up thinking
otherwise.

1896.] THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS. 265

THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS.

BY REV. JOHN R. SLATTERY, BALTIMORE.
I

HERE is an irresponsible quarterly review pub-
lished in New York City, and edited by one who
claims to be a Catholic, and is, we believe, a
convert. In the number for July, 1895, Mr.
Eugene L. Didier, of Baltimore, has an article
entitled " The Negro, in Fact and Fiction." Since its appear-
ance we have received several letters calling our attention to
it, all condemning it, save one, whose writer merely asked if we
had seen it. Everything in Mr. Didier's paper against the Ne-
gro is directly con-trary to Catholic truth or ethics. A few
comparisons will show how wide of the mark he is.

Didier says, for instance, that " slavery was a blessing to the
slave," while Leo XIII., in his encyclical to the Bishops of
Brazil, speaks of it as the " dreadful curse of slavery." Mr.
Didier writes chiefly of Protestant slaves under Protestant mas-
ters, while Leo XIII. refers entirely to Catholic masters .and
slaves. In Maryland even, Mr. Didier's own State, we have
been assured that in slave days a Catholic negro would sell for
more than a Protestant negro. It is no presumption to believe
that the Catholic masters and slaves of Brazil were as good as
the Catholic masters and slaves who gazed on the pleasant
waters of the Patuxent or the Potomac.

Says Didier, " The abolition of slavery robbed the Southern
people of their lawful property." In answer, Leo XIII. tells
mankind

" the Supreme Author of all things so decreed that men should exercise a sort of
royal dominion over beasts and cattle and fish and fowl, but never that men
should exercise a like dominion over their fellow-man."

Greater than Leo's words, because from them the great Pope
drew his inspiration, are the words of St. Augustine, one of the
most learned teachers in the Catholic Church :

" Having created man a reasonable being and after his own likeness, God wished
that he should rule only over the brute creation ; that he should be the master,
not of men but of beasts."

266 THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS, [May,

Our pen almost refuses to quote the following specimens of
Didier's effusion : " The Negro, in fact, is a natural-born and
habitual liar ; he lies without cause ; he lies, etc., etc., usque
ad nauseam ; the negro, in fact, is shiftless, shameless, brutal,
deceitful, dishonest, untruthful, revengeful, ungrateful, immoral."
Mr. Didier almost emptied the dictionary.

This writer lives in Baltimore — that is, in the same city with
the colored Oblate Sisters of Providence, who, since 1829, have
been an edifying community consecrated to the cultivation of
the highest Christian virtues. Mr. Didier knows the Oblates,
for who in Baltimore does not? How in the face of these
good souls any man, Catholic or Protestant, Jew or Gentile,
could write as Mr. Didier in last July's Globe is simply inex-
plicable.

In his litany of faults against the negroes, Mr. Didier in no
place says that the negro is ungentlemanly ; and the omission
was wise !

Again, he starts in with a new lash with which to whip the
Negro. It is that " he is a savage "; " left to himself he is a
savage everywhere ; a savage in Africa, a savage in Hayti, a
savage in the South, a savage in the North." The Oblates, as
an approved institute of the Catholic Church, are left to them-
selves. They are not savages ; far from it, they are a holy
body of women.

On the same street in Baltimore with Mr. Didier's residence
is the Mother Church of colored Catholics, St. Francis Xavier's.
There are in that church fully two thousand colored people,
who are as good neighbors and as good Christians as a like
number of any congregation of Christendom. Mr. Didier's sen-
timents on the Negro, however, are not those of the white
Catholics of Baltimore. Let us see, moreover, what Leo XIII.
thinks of the Didierian sentiments :

" Through your means (Bishops of Brazil) let it be brought to pass that masters
and slaves may mutually agree with the highest good will and best good faith ;
nor let there be any transgression of clemency or justice, but whatever things
have to be carried out, let all be done lawfully, temperately, and in a Christian
manner " (Encyclical on slavery).

One word more from our author :

" It is not his black skin alone that distinguishes the Negro from the white man,
as it is his black nature. ... In intellect, he is only one degree above the
baboon ; in instinct, he is below the brute."

Shame ! As a Catholic, knowing well the sentiments of the

1896.] THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS. 267

Catholic Church, I repudiate this statement and affirm that
in no authoritative Catholic publication could it ever find place.
Hear how differently Leo XIII. voices the true opinion of the
Catholic Church :

" Thus the apostles in the early days of the church, among other precepts
for a devout life, taught and laid down the doctrine which more than once occurs
in the Epistles of St. Paul, addressed to those newly baptized : 'for you are all the
children of God by faith in Jesus Christ. For as many of you as have been bap-
tized in Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek ; there is
neither bond nor free ; there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in
Christ Jesus. Where there is neither Gentile nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircum-
cision, Barbarian nor Scythian, bond nor free. But Christ is all and in all. For
in one spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Gentiles, whether
bond or free ; and in one spirit we have all been made to drink.' Golden words
indeed, noble and wholesome lessons, whereby its old dignity is given back and
with increase to the human race, and men of whatever land or tongue or class are
bound together and joined in the strong bonds of brotherly kinship " (Leo XIII.
to the Bishops of Brazil}.

Naturally, our readers may think, why is this paper of Didi-
er's noticed now, after so long a silence on our part, although
urged heretofore to take it up ? We passed it by not only
because we were ashamed of it, but also because there is no
arguing with prejudice. Silence is ever the best answer to
vituperation. But to-day we call our readers' attention to it
because of the wicked purposes to which the Baptists are put-
ting it. Rev. General T. J. Morgan, an official of the Indian
Bureau during Harrison's administration, is now corresponding
secretary of the American Baptist Home Mission Society, and
an editor of its organ, The Baptist Home Mission Monthly.
Morgan has taken extracts' from Didier's article, and with
them the comment of Mr. Thome, editor of The Globe, and
with conscious duplicity has made them appear as the teaching
of representative Catholics. He has offset them by ten points
of Baptist faith, and afterward adds the views of five Baptist
preachers in favor of the Negro. This leaflet Morgan has
entitled, "Man or Baboon?" It has been distributed by tens
of thousands among the Negroes. In Washington, where this
tract was scattered broadcast, some of the more simple of the
colored people, not knowing that Thorne was nobody and in
reality represented nothing, were inclined to take Morgan's
misstatement for the truth, and consequently these least of the
kingdom were deeply scandalized at what they in their simplic-
ity believed to be the opinions of the Catholic Church. In
Richmond, again, the colored quarter was flooded with th'

268 THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS. [May,

pamphlet. There, however, the Baptists spread the report that
Mr. Eugene L. Didier was a priest, confounding him with the
well-known priest of Baltimore, Rev. Edmund Didier, whose
apostolic work in propagating devotion to the Holy Face is so
well and favorably known. This report was denied in the
colored press of Richmond.

True to his ungentlemanly proclivities, Morgan, in his leaflet,
appeals to the worst passions of the Negro. " They who sow
the wind shall reap the whirlwind." No doubt the Negroes will
learn the lesson only too well, and eventually it will recoil on
the heads of the Baptists themselves.

Furthermore, would you know from what a polluted quarter
this malicious attack comes, see the damaging revelations that
have been made of Rev. General Morgan's career in the army.
The records of the War Office are open to the public, and
they witness in no uncertain way to the utter want of character
and principle of the man who has fabricated these charges.
Let any one read the findings of the court-martial convened at
Chattanooga March 25, 1865, and no little light will be turned
on so as to expose the real character of this man Morgan.

In this latest manoeuvre apparently the only charitable way
to account for his diatribes is to regard him as a monomaniac
on Catholicism. Hardly can he conceive that he serves the
cause of truth by deliberately misrepresenting millions of his
countrymen and hundreds of millions of Christians, viz.: the
children of the old Mother Church. Nor can he suppose that
his love for God will feed on his hate of his fellow-man. Is
he afflicted with the disease which the catechism of the Council
of Trent calls "fere insanibilis animi morbus " ?

While disposed to acknowledge the efforts of Northern white
Baptists, we may, however, remind our readers that the South-
ern white Baptists can show no such friendship for the black
man. They exceed their Northern co-religionists by over two
hundred thousand. Their sentiment, therefore, and stand
toward the Negroes seem to an outsider a fairer test of Baptist
opinion than Mr. Morgan's. And when we remember that they
are a split from the Northern Baptists, on the Negro question
itself, we need not look for much love for the black Negro
among Southern Baptists.

This leaflet of Dr. Morgan's should serve as a warning to
Catholics ; especially to those who, like Messrs. Thorne and
Didier, seem to have their eyes in the back of their heads, and
forget that the war is over and that the past can never be re-

1896.] THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS. 269

called. It is painful to find one of the unreconstructed, and he
a Catholic, calling a halt to the forward march- of the Negro ;
just as if any one listened to him, or cared a snap for his wail.

The South is the El Dorado of Protestantism. Catholics in
that section of our country are like the few grapes left on the
vine after the vintage, of which the prophet spoke. Yes, the
South is almost exclusively Protestant. In fact, if from Northern
Protestants are subtracted their Southern white and black co-
religionists, their numbers in the North, the most progressive
part of the country, would be comparatively small. Now, it is
just in the North where the Catholics are strong. Take the
Baptists for instance :

Carroll's " Religious Forces of the United States " gives the

Baptists in 1895 as . . ... 3,928,106
Subtract the Colored Baptists,. .. . 1,317,962

Leaves the White Baptist as . : . 2,610,144
Deduct the Southern White Baptists, 1,417,816

Leaves as Northern Baptists, . . . 1,192,328

-There are about eight to ten times as many Catholics in the
North as there are Baptists ; while in the South the tables are
turned, the ratio being about the same the other way.

What, however, is the chief purpose of our article? It has
been to authoritatively repudiate the statements of Thorne and
Didier and to expose Morgan's mendacious methods. We would
that it were in our power to go further. We wish to issue a
leaflet in answer to Morgan's " Man or Baboon ? " We will not
quote any Baptist Thorne or Didier; no, but we propose to
send out a leaflet on what the Catholic Church believes in re-
gard to the Negro. Our authorities will be the Encyclical of
Leo XIII. on Slavery ; the Second and the Third Plenary
Councils of Baltimore ; the letters of the bishops to the Com-
mission in charge of the Negro and Indian Fund. We shall
indulge in no vituperation, for believing with the great African
Doctor, Tertullian, " mens humana naturaliter Christiana," we
propose to let the truth work its own way. One hundred
thousand copies spread broadcast in the localities where the
poison of Morgan's falsehoods has been poured out would be
necessary to provide the antidote. Here is a glorious opportunity
for some public-spirited soul to do a great service to the cause
of truth.

VOL. LXIII. — 18

270 THE NEGROES AND THE BAPTISTS, [May.

God has been good to the Negroes. In their passage from
slavery to freedom, from freedom to citizenship and franchise,
Providence has led them on without much effort on their part.
Our country also is bountiful to our Brothers in black, who
take it all in as a matter of course. Our Lord, moreover,
lias given to these Negroes a life very like his own days of
.sorrow. Like him, the Negro is a man of sorrow, " poor and
in labor from his youth up." In fact, in the history of no
race has the Passion of Christ found so large a counterpart as
in the history of the Negro race. Let us hope that their untold
sufferings in the past will win them to the faith. They have
already gained many civil blessings. By means and labors of
devoted souls they shall enjoy the gift of faith which "sur-
passeth all understanding." Protestantism has had the negroes,
and that race alone, under its tutelage from savagery to civili-
zation. Two and a half centuries have come and gone since
the first slave landed at Jamestown, Va. The sects gave them
their language ; their Bible ; their Sabbath ; their inamissibility
of grace ; their religion, creed, and discipline ; with this result,
that white co-religionists of the Negro in the South have hardly
a good word to say of him. The missionary effort of Protes-
tantism here has been a monumental failure. The Negroes in
the South will be one of the chief evidences of the barren-
ness of the Reformation.

MRS. FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT has hitherto
been fortunate in her novels' themes. A happy
boldness of originality characterized several, and
with the aid of an individualistic style and a high
power of dramatic construction she has been suc-
cessful in leaving her impress strongly upon present-day litera-
ture. We would that she had left what she considers, as we
believe, her best work unwritten. It is called A Lady of
Quality* It is a powerful work, but it is overdone.

The great aim of many authors now is to present woman in
new lights. The more startling and unreal, the better the ef-
fect, so it is thought. The Lady of Quality is certainly a start-
ling creature. The idea seems to have been suggested by a
statue of the Sphinx or similar chimera — one half the crea-
ture beast, the other part woman.

It may be a far-fetched surmise, but it is not out of the
range of possibilities, that Mrs. Burnett had in view the hum-
bling of those of us who glory in a descent from British aris-
tocracy by giving a new picture of what such an aristocracy
meant in the days of the Restoration and for long after. It
is not a pleasant study. The squirearchy who followed the
hounds and the worship of Bacchus, and knew nothing of re-
ligion but so much of it as enabled them to swear with em-
phasis, were unquestionably a brutal lot. We get good pic-
tures of their morals and their manners in Tom Jones and Tris-
tram Shandy. The authors of those works lived closer to the
time than Mrs. Burnett, and their portrayal must be more faith-
ful. We do not say they display a greater knowledge of the
profanity and debauchery of the period than Mrs. Burnett does,
but they give us its human side much better, because they did
not write so much for effect as to produce a faithful picture
and at the same time find an outlet for their own wit — which

*A Lady of Quality. By Frances Hodgson Burnett. New York: Charles Scribner's
Sons.

272 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. ,May,

is by no means the lesser factor in their literary fame. Take
Sterne, Smollett, and Fielding without their sparkle and their
sympathy, and invest them with a double dose of what in
aesthetic parlance was called "intensity," and you have Mrs.
Burnett's essay on English " society " called A Lady of Quality.

The keynote to the book appears to be the moral irrespon-
sibility of the individual and the blameworthiness of the
environment. Thus, old Sir Jeoffrey Wildair, after having spent
his whole lifetime in brutality and profligacy, and dying in
doubt and darkness, is made to appear as if for him, who had
never shown, as he himself confessed, justice to any man, mercy
to any woman, environment should plead in extenuation of
unrepented wrong-doing and licentiousness. And so with his
daughter, Clorinda, who, born with a devil, becomes a duchess
and a saint. The environment is held accountable for her
shame, and her passion for the murder which her own hands
commits — a liberal extension of the insanity plea indeed ; but
for her transformation from evil womanhood to noble living
and the highest ideals of charity and tenderness, only the power
of human love is relied on. As a psychological postulate we
are afraid that the conception of Clorinda Wildair will bear no
test of experience. As no one becomes suddenly wicked, so no
one brought up in evil ways can, save by a miracle of grace,
become suddenly saintly. There are far too many flashes of
glowing animalism in the descriptive parts of this story, sug-
gesting a want of sympathy with the spiritual side of woman-
hood which may be unjust to the author. For the sake of
artistic effect she makes use of materials which not even the
finest minds can handle without leaving coarse impressions ; and
for the production of dramatic intensity creates scenes which
are utterly impossible even in the worst periods of moral de-
cay. To ask us to believe that in the open day a girl of fif-
teen, of ample physical development, could be found to ride to
.the hounds habitually in male style and dress, .along with her
father and his debauched friends, as Clorinda Wildair is de-
picted as doing, is asking too much. Even at the most degen-
erate period of modern English society such a thing would be
utterly impossible. Brutal and degraded as the peasantry were,
could a parent be found debased enough to permit such a
practice, they would hoot the shameless hoyden off their fields.

The great dramatic strength of this book will not save it
from the verdict of disapproval. The Lady of Quality is
hardly lady or woman, but a monstrous literary lusus natura*

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 273

It is refreshing to turn from the perusal of pages of such
straining to the simplicity of natural description and the bril-
liant play of French fancy in the matter of dialogue, such as
we find them in the course of the unpretentious tale entitled
The Outlaw of Camargue. Here indeed is the art that is truest
of all — the ars celare artem ; no effort to produce it is apparent,
and yet the power is perceptibly present. The story is some-
what slender. It is in the guise of a romance of French Pro-
venc.al life in the halcyon days which preceded the Revolution.
The characters are of the picture, and their different idiosyncra-
sies are most skilfully presented either in the mode of speech,
the habit of gesture, or some other of the many vehicles resort-
ed to by the novelist of experience. The resources which the
French literary artist of the modern school brings to his work
are strikingly manifested in the technique of this pleasing novel.
Without appearing in the slightest degree didactic, it imparts
the most valuable lessons on the physical geography of the
region of which it treats, and the racial peculiarities of the
Provencal people. How powerful an aid this is in realizing
the scenes with which the author deals it is needless to point
out. The translator appears to have caught the spirit of the
original with rare intelligence, and gives us a most enjoyable
rendering.

One of the chapters is devoted to a tournament or compe-
tition of a terribly exciting character. It is a trial of strength
and skill between two sets of men engaged in the savage busi-
ness of guarding and taming the wild bulls which abound in
the marshy region of Camargue. The picture is drawn with an
easy power whose effect is instantly felt. It is a wild scene,
the actors in which are all beings of flesh and blood, and every
incident of which is full of absorbing interest and fascination.
In several other chapters of the book we find local peculiarities
treated in the same instructive and agreeable way. As a story,
however, The Outlaw of Camargue* is somewhat weak. It suffers
from the fact of its being a semi-historical tale, dealing with
a period which has rendered horrors familiar. But we cannot
help being grateful to author and translator for giving us so
charming a glimpse of a people and a literature so much out
of the highways as the Provencal of the salt-marshes.

It is time for Carleton's caricatures of the Irish peasantryf

* The Outlaw of Camargue. By A. Lamothe. Translated by Anna T. Sadlier. New
York : Benziger Brothers.

t Traits and Stories of Irish Peasantry. By William Carleton. Edited by D. J.
O'Donoghue. New York : Macmillan & Co. ; London : J. M. Dent & Co.

274 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

to be left to moulder on forgotten shelves. Therefore while
we may admire the diligence of Mr. D. J. O'Donoghue in
dragging them once more into the light, we could wish that
his editorial energy had expended itself in some more useful
direction. We cannot conceive how Irish Catholics especially
can derive either instruction or amusement from Carleton's
satires. His language toward their religion and its practices is
that of the unscrupulous pervert that he was — hating the things
that he knew to be holy and holding them up to scorn be-
cause there was a ready market for anything that vilified the
Celt. It is true that Carleton was an able writer, but he was
also a most mercenary one. The coarse and grotesque side of
the Irish character it was that always appealed to him. When-
ever he essayed anything higher he was a dismal failure. Be-
tween Lover, Lever, and Carleton, the world has had handed
down such a distortion of Irish peasant character that it is
little wonder we find it flourishing still in the pages of Harper,
Punch, and similar publications avowedly hostile to everything
Irish. One of the tales in the collection of Traits and Stories
is so grossly insulting to Catholic feeling that we are surprised
at any Catholic author venturing to put it before an intelligent
public. It is a sketch called The Station — one of those vulgar
things written for the proselytizing society which sometimes
hired Carleton to pen his own shame along with his country-
men's libel.

A strange fancy has impelled Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, in
her white-and-gold-vested little book called The Supply at St.
Agatha's* So desperate is the condition of the modern pulpit
as regards stirring up sinners and moving the hard hearts of the
rich, that she hints in it that only by a supernatural visitant
can the office be effectually filled. Hence she conceives of a
faithful old minister, neglected by the rich and dying nobly
in discharge of his duty, having his place as "supply" (i. e.,
substitute) filled by one whose attributes are those of the
divinity. It is a daring flight of fancy ; but we cannot opine
that any beneficial impression can be made by such extravagant
excursions into the realm of religious fiction. In the realm of
fact the tendency toward pulpit hysteria is already too grave a
symptom to be ignored. This book is the proof that its effect
has been unsatisfactory. When it is thus pointedly postulated

* The Supply at St. Agatha's. By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps. Boston and New York :
Houghton, Mifflm & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 275

that nothing less than a striking miracle of heaven can turn the
hearts of the rich and the sinful, the doom of the sensational
and the unbecoming in pulpit methods has been pronounced.

A hearty welcome ought to be given to the endeavor of
the Rev. Peter C. Yorke and his collaborateurs to give Catholic
children an intelligible and helpful work on the catechism. We
have the first of a series of manuals* designed with this object,
and we think it well worthy of approbation. It is the joint
work of a committee of the teaching orders in the San Fran-
cisco diocese, and bears the imprimatur of the Archbishop,
The leading idea in this the first book of the series is to get
the children familiar with all the essential facts of their religion
at first, and not to leave them trusting to the mere knowledge
of the few put in the forefront of the Baltimore Catechism as
is the case very frequently, and unavoidably, under the present
condition of elementary instruction. It is a good idea, too, to
have the little book embellished with the best pictures that can
be had to illustrate the mysteries of faith outlined in the text.

It is always pleasant to take up a volume of Father Finn's
crisp stories for boys. Even those whose boyhood is a matter
of ancient history may find something delightful in his bright
fiction. One of his latest books, called Faces Old and Neu>,\ is
full of things conceived in his best vein. Every tale is a stimu-
lus to honor, courage, and manly Catholicism, without being
pietistic. Even sparkling humor, it is shown, can be cross-
woven into sound religious stories and not seem out of place.

In Elise,\ a story of the civil war, we have a child's story
much more lengthy than any of Father Finn's. It is a very
pathetic tale, full of incidents calculated to stir youthful
sympathies, and vivid presentations of life, white and black, at
the outbreak of the war. The intention of the book is to pro-
vide a safeguard against the dangers of spiritualism and similar
delusions, by showing that all the soul's longings after the super-
natural can be legitimately satisfied within the domain of the
Catholic Church. The little heroine is represented as being in
her way a sort of mystic, and to be specially favored, for the
purpose of working out good results. Whether or not this

* Text Books of Religion for Parochial and Sunday Schools. I, The Primer. San
Francisco : P. J. Thomas' Print.

t Faces Old and New. By Rev. B. Finn, S. J. St. Louis : B. Herder & Co.

\Elise : A Story of the Civil War. By S. M. M. X. Boston : Ang;el Guardian Press.

276 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

purpose be not too serious for many young minds is open to
question. If it be desirable to impress the youthful mind with
the truth of miraculous intervention in human affairs, it were
better, in our opinion, that the medium be the testimony of es-
tablished facts rather than the creations of fancy. But to such
as are fitted for its reception there is no doubt that Elise is a
captivating story. The work is illustrated, and turned out in
good style by the Angel Guardian Press.

From the firm of B. Herder we have also three short tales,
all rendered from the German by Miss Helena Long and an
anonymous translator. One of them, entitled Love Your Ene-
mies, is the work of the Rev. Joseph Spillmann, S.J., and treats
of New Zealand colonial life at the time of the great Maori
insurrection. It is a spirited little story, telling how a callous
Irish eviction had its dramatic sequel in the wilds of New
Zealand in the triumph of noble Catholic principles. The second
booklet, entitled Maron, The Christian Youth of the Lebanon, by
A. v. B., is a story of the massacres by the Druses of that
region thirty-six years ago. The third bears the title qf Prince
Arumugam, the Steadfast Indian Convert. Some neat illustra-
tions are scattered throughout each of these tiny but interest-
ing volumes.

A short book of sermons on the Blessed Virgin by the
Very Rev. D. I. McDermott, of St. Mary's, Philadelphia,* may
be heartily commended. They set out in clear, choice language
the exact status and part of the Mother of our Lord in the
economy of grace, and make the Catholic position of that sub-
ject, as compared with the non-Catholic, unmistakable. As pul-
pit compositions these sermons may be taken as excellent
models.

WHO PLOTTED THE RUIN OF ACADIA?f

Although many attempts have been made to lift the veil
of mournful mystery which enshrouded the authorship of Aca-
dia's sorrows, it is only now we appear to be getting at the
truth. An Acadian, and descendant of one of the wronged
race, Mr. Edouard Richard, sometime member of the Canadian

* Sermons on the Blessed Virgin Mary. By the Very Rev. D. I. McDermott, Rector of
St. Mary's Church, Philadelphia, Pa. New York and Cincinnati : Benziger Brothers.

t Edouard Richard : Acadia : Missing Links of a Lost Chapter in American History.
By an Acadian ex-Member of the House of Commons in Canada. Two vols. New York :
Home Book Company, 45 Vesey Street.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 277

Parliament, has devoted much time and zealous labor to the
unravelling of the secret, and he now presents us with the
fruits of his work, in the shape of two substantial volumes.
They will be found to be a most valuable contribution to the
library of historical truth — as yet, it seems, but a very scanty
collection.

The fact that Mr. Parkman is in his grave cannot save his
name from the very serious charge which has been brought
against his candor as a historian with respect to the outrage on
Acadia. When writing Montcalm and Wolfe the documents on
which the present writer relies in tracing the guilt of the
transaction to its real authors were known to and accessible to
Parkman. But Mr. Richard says he chose to ignore them.
Of this fact, he adds, he has positive proof.

We can add nothing, and have no will or wish to add any-
thing, to the solemnity of this statement. It falls like the
decree of justice, bearing its own lesson and its own warn-
ing, and unmindful of consequences or comment. The unjust
judge and the untruthful historian stand on the same pedestal
before the world, each the writer of his own dishonoring epi-
taph.

One of the most prominent incidents at the beginning of
the Acadian trouble was the murder of an English officer named
Howe, under circumstances of great treachery. In his desire to
fasten this crime upon the French Abbe Le Loutre, Parkman
makes use of documents written by infamous persons, spies and
emissaries of the English whose stories were disbelieved even
by those who employed them. Mr. Richard takes his narrative
analytically and exposes such tricks of compilation and quota-
tion as exhibit Parkman in a most detestable light. It is all
very painful reading, yet not without its value as an object-
lesson in the power of invincible bigotry to pervert even the
most gifted minds, and make otherwise honorable men reckless
of their own reputation before posterity. Le Loutre was un-
questionably instrumental in stirring up a good deal of the ill
blood between the Acadians and the English authorities, but
the evidence on which Parkman attempts to make him respon-
sible for a most atrocious murder is overborne by that of a
host of the most reputable witnesses, including the English gov-
ernor, Cornwallis, himself. On the other hand the abominable
cruelties, the treachery, the bloodshed, perpetrated by English
officers and the savages in their pay upon the French settlers
and the Indians friendly to the French, form one of the most

278 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

sickening chapters in human history. Parkman endeavors to
keep these a good deal out of sight, by passing over the
true history of the Acadian trouble.

Regarding the responsibility for the expulsion of the Acadi-
ans, Mr. Richard's proofs fix it pretty clearly upon a succeed-
ing Lieutenant-Governor, Major Charles Lawrence. The Aca-
dians held the finest lands in the province ; Lawrence cast a
greedy eye upon them. A long chain of proof is now sub-
mitted to establish the fact that it was covetousness, not policy,
which inspired Lawrence to contrive and carry out the crime
of wholesale expulsion. He is shown to have acted with
duplicity, not only toward the unfortunate Acadians but toward
the home government. He misinformed the Lords of Trade
of the real state of the case, exaggerated the troubles in Acadia,
and concealed his own designs in great part until the act of
expulsion was complete. The lords in alarm had sent him a
letter designed to stay his hand, but this either arrived too
late or Lawrence pretended not to have received it. Parkman
and other historians have ignored this letter also. To white-
wash Lawrence and cast the blame on the home government
appears to be the motive for this concealment.

Mr. Richard's aim in writing this book was the commenda-
ble one of establishing the truth. Still it seems to us that
between the home government and its instruments in the
colonies there was frequently but little difference in moral
standards. We would point out that it was to the home gov-
ernment, not long before the Acadian clearances, that the re-
sponsibility for the massacre of Glencoe attaches. In its pur-
suit of territory and conquest that government has never known
either justice, conscience, or pity, and not all great Neptune's
ocean can wash white its hands.

1896.] AN EYE-WITNESS TO THE ARMENIAN HORRORS. 279

AN EYE-WITNESS TO THE ARMENIAN HORRORS.

A HIGHLY esteemed prelate in Armenia, whose diocese lies in
part of the country recently given over to sack and slaughter,
sends us an affecting letter, a portion of which we translate :
"Over the whole province the work of destruction has been
pursued, every town and every hamlet having been given
over to pillage and murder. Two large Catholic mission sta-
tions have been entirely wiped out. The churches, the pres-
byteries, and the schools, having been first sacked, were given
to the flames. The sacred vessels, the pictures, and the
crucifixes were carried off or destroyed. The inhabitants who
have been spared have been stripped of everything of use or value.
Those who fled from the doomed districts were pursued and cut
down mercilessly, without regard to age or sex, by the barbarous
Turks. The bodies of many children and young girls lie under
the charred debris of the ruined homes. No such gigantic
affliction has ever before fallen upon any nation. Generous
help is being given the Protestant survivors by the American
relief societies ; the Catholic bishops and priests are incessant
in their endeavors to procure aid for their unhappy flock ; and
the schismatic Armenians, seeing how great is their devotion in
this regard, are manifesting a disposition to rejoin the church.
But the priests find themselves wholly unable to meet the
demands made on them by the starving people ; and the mar-
kets being closed as a result of the terror, the whole popula-
tion is thrown upon the resources of the charitable organiza-
tions for the relief of their daily wants. To add to the horror
of the situation, these massacres and burnings went on in the
depths of a most rigorous winter and spring." What is of
most immediate concern is the pitiable condition of the Catho-
lic Armenians on whose behalf our correspondent writes.
Unless the outside world come promptly to their aid very
many more victims must be added to the butcher's bill of the
unspeakable Turk. The most stringent precautions are being
taken by the Turkish government to prevent any word of
these shocking -transactions getting outside the empire, and our
venerable correspondent has been compelled to adopt a round-
about means to get his letter forwarded to us. Twice he nar-
rowly escaped death at the hands of the Turkish butchers, and
his priests have had many hair-breadth escapes also.

280 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

NO small share of the success which attended the Catholic Winter School at
New Orleans was due to the efficient co-operation of the Women's Auxili-
ary Committee. Plans are now under consideration for perpetuating the good
work already so well begun by establishing Reading Circles. On receipt of ten
cents in postage the Columbian Reading Union, 415 West Fifty-ninth Street, New
York City, will send a pamphlet containing information regarding the formation
of a Reading Circle and plans of work approved by experience. A very good be-
ginning can be made with five members. The pamphlet has been prepared to
meet the needs of those who wish to know how to begin.

Mrs. Paul B. Hay, of San Francisco, has prepared some helpful suggestions
for beginners, which are as follows :

The first suggestion to new Circles should be concentration on some one line
of study persistently and perseveringly adhered to. Enlarging upon it, building
around it, each member bringing in some additional fact or some new authority,
will furnish the necessary variety and diversity to keep the interest active and
fresh. The mere fact of knowing that there is a common centre and that others
are working along the same lines will act as an incentive to mental activity on the
part of every individual member.

We have found the Question Box among the most interesting features of our
meetings. It furnishes the needed variety and relaxation from more serious study,
induces pleasant discussion, brings up many interesting questions, brings out facts
and ofttimes much valuable information.

Every Circle needs the help of some one heroic and loving and illumined
soul, some scholar, some one full of enthusiasm. Otherwise by struggling on with-
out direction or purpose much valuable time is lost, and much energy is mis-
directed. If those \\ho have had special advantages along any one particular line
of study can be roused to do what lies in their power for others less fortunate, an
impetus will be given to the circle work wide-reaching in its results.

The spirit of the missionary ought to possess our students and scholars, and
they should employ every means possible to make earnest study so easy and so at-
tractive that all will feel at least a desire for self-improvement and mental ad-
vancement. If our Western Educational Union is to be the ever-growing power
for good that it should be, it must hasten to form a working faculty of earnest, help-
ful scholars who will be ready to advise the single seeker after knowledge, the
new Circles that need direction, and the older Circles that need improvement. This
faculty, advisory committee, or whatever we may be pleased to term it, is a con-
summation devoutly to be wished ; but until such a happy boon comes we must be
satisfied with unfailing individual effort ; we must ever bear in mind that the suc-
cess of the Circles to which we belong is dependent upon the earnestness and the
quiet, determined perseverance of each and all of its members. There should be
no drones ; all should be willing to bring to the general fund whatever is within
their power. We should never be willing to offer anything short of our best ; and
although that best may be meagre at first the constant striving to attain the high-
est and noblest is in itself an education. We should strive for the true, the beau-
tiful, and the good as much for the effect on the development and elevation of our
own characters as for the pleasure and help we may be able to give to others after
the attaining.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 281

For the encouragement of new Circles it is well to remember that the move-
ment is young, just in the first vigor of early, helpful growth on this coast especial-
ly. In 1878 the first Chautauqua Circles were formed, and they now number their
readers by the thousands, if not by the millions. In 1888 the Columbian Reading
Union Circles were started by THE CATHOLIC WORLD, but not until 1891 did the
Reading Circle reach San Francisco. It is not a difficult matter to do the neces-
sary reading, or to do the work required by our Circles. Any one can write, if
only sufficient study and thought be given to become familiar with the subject.

As another matter for encouragement I would refer to one Reading Circle
that has had marvellous and far-reaching results. In the days when our country
was new and books were few, Benjamin Franklin and a number of his friends
formed themselves into a society known as the " Junto," for reading and study
and self-improvement. They brought their little store of books together for the
better accommodation of each other, and from this small beginning the public libra-
ry system as it now exists in America has been evolved. The library thus founded
by the members of Franklin's small Reading Circle is known as the mother of
libraries, the oldest library in the United States. In the year 1869 Dr. James Rush
left his large estate, valued at $1,500,000, as an endowment to this library, $800,000
of which was expended in the erection of a library building which up to the com-
pletion of the Library of Congress was the most magnificent in the United States.
The first duty of Reading Circles is to cultivate and nurture a taste for read-
ing and to prepare and put into the hands of readers the best possible selection of
books. They aim to make the use of books a source of permanent benefit, and an
active vital force in the lives of readers to encourage voluntary effort and to culti-
vate habits of individual research and thought. The work that we ourselves do
in the way of study, inquiry, and research preparatory to the writing of our papers
is usually the work from which we derive the most benefit. The gold that we our-
selves dig out of the great mine of knowledge is the wealth that cannot be stolen.
We on this Western Coast are but just beginning organized co-operative
work for higher education. Rev. Father Prendergast is the pioneer in this move-
ment, the first Reading Circle having been organized by him a, little over four
years ago, and to his untiring energy and zeal we owe the successful realization of
this, our first mid-winter lecture course.

With the energy, enthusiasm, and success of our Eastern friends to stimulate
us, and the encouraging response and kindly reception that our first lecture course
has met with here, our future should be assured. At present we have in San
Francisco seven active Reading Circles. Various lines of study have been pur-
sued ; art, science, history, religion, political economy, and the social questions
have been attempted by some, whilst others have taken but one book as a study.

We trust that while we may have in our midst a spirit of healthful rivalry, we
may at the same time be ever ready to help each other in any and ever)7 possible
way. Not what we give, but what we share, should be our motto. To the new
members and to the new Circles that may be started should we be especially help-
ful. There is room for most earnest effort and much genuine missionary and
pioneer work on our part. We are laying the foundations upon which others will
build and much depends upon how these foundations are made. All the Circles
uniting in a common interest for good and laboring earnestly, cheerfully, and
untiringly for the attaining of the greatest good to the greatest number, we may
justly hope for an ever-widening influence. As when a child throws a pebble into
the water the first circle is small indeed, but this is succeeded by a larger and this
one by another still larger, on and on, always widening and increasing, until the

282 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

last circle is beyond the sight or ken of man and God alone knows its full circum-
ference. Things small in themselves are often great in their consequences. Our
common purpose in coming together is higher education.

Sir John Herschel says : " If I were to pray for a taste which would stand
me in stead under every variety of circumstances, and be a source of happiness
and cheerfulness to me through life and a shield against its ills, however things
might go amiss and the world frown upon me, it would be a taste for reading. I
speak of it, of course, only as a worldly advantage, and not in the slightest degree
as superseding or derogating from the higher office and surer and stronger pano-
ply of religious principles, but as a taste, an instrument, and a mode of pleasurable
gratification. Give a man this taste and the means of gratifying it, and you can
hardly fail of making a happy man, unless, indeed, you put into his hands a most
perverse selection of books."

* * *

Dr. William Lyon Phelps has attracted wide notice by his modern novel class
recently established at Yale University. Numerous letters have reached him from
persons anxious to start local clubs on similar lines. He has prepared a printed
circular of information to answer the inquiries which came from the Sandwich
Islands, Honolulu, Halifax, and other places less remote. At Cambridge Univer-
sity, England, a similar class has been started. Dr. Phelps is determined to make
the study of the modern novel serious business for the young men at Yale. He
allows his course to count as only one hour out of the fifteen in each week that
the student may elect, which provides a safeguard against what is known as a
" soft optional."

Each student is required to read one novel a week, and to write upon it, not
merely a simple analysis but a critical judgment. Six of these papers are read
anonymously before each lecture, and fully discussed. Then Dr. Phelps follows
with a short account of the author, gives his own view of the novel, criticising
the method of treatment, style, construction of plot, character-sketching, and
quality of conversations, noting especially fine passages or strong situations.
Two or three questions, taken from the semi-annual examination paper, indicate
the line of instruction : " In what does the superiority of Treasure Island to ordi-
nary tales of adventure consist ? " " Granted that both the realist and romanticist
admit that life is commonplace and sad, why are their theories of art so contrary
to each other ? " " What indications are there at present of a romantic revival in
fiction ? " Here are a few of the authors studied in the course this year, showing
the comprehensiveness of range : Howells, Kipling, Mrs. Ward, Meredith, Tur-
genev, Tolstoi, Bjornson, Daudet, Loti, Caine, Crawford, and Sienkiewiecz.

Mr. Arthur Reed Kimball — Book Buyer, April, 1896 — is authority for the
statement that Dr. Phelps's class is a veritable departure in that it is the only
course given at any university which is confined to modern fiction, other courses
touching on the modern novel incidentally. The class numbers one hundred and
twenty-five juniors and one hundred and twenty-five seniors — the only two classes
to which the course is open — besides about fifty others who attend the lectures
from general interest and not because they are members of the class. Dr. Phelps
is greatly pleased with the results thus far ; the class was started at the beginning
of the present college year. He finds that there has been a steady improvement
in the character of the themes. He is also constantly receiving voluntary testi-
mony from the young men of the value that the course has proved to them by in-
creasing the interest of their general reading.

Dr. Phelps was led to make the experiment — it is simply supplementary to

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 283

his other work : the Shakspere class for the sophomores, for example — from the
feeling that the universal habit of novel-reading ought to be turned to good ac-
count. If the young men could be brought to appreciate the best novels, they
would come naturally to choose good literature in place of bad. If their critical
faculty could be cultivated, if they could be taught to enjoy novels as art, it would
open up to them a new source of enjoyment. The modern novel is more and
more reflecting all the various questions and tendencies of the day. Acquaintance
with the best modern novels, therefore, means acquaintance with modern thought.

Professor McClintock, of the Chicago University, has given an opinion on the
study of the novel in the college curriculum which is here quoted :

" I think a course in novel-reading is of the very highest moral benefit to
students at a university. In fact it is the only way by which many of the men can
be reached, for they will read novels when nothing in any other form of literature
will appeal to them. But the course as outlined by Dr. Phelps in the Yale curri-
culum is not at all a new method in college instruction. Since the establishment
of the Chicago University there have been plans of study similar to what is now
being forwarded as unique in theory, and as early as 1893 I delivered a series of
lectures on the development of the English novel from Richardson to the present
day. The same year Professor Wilkinson conducted a course on the short story,
illustrated by examples from modern fiction. In 1894 a course on the realistic
school of novelists was announced for the following spring to be given by Dr.
Triggs, so that Dr. Phelps's idea is scarcely new in college work. In order to
enter the Chicago University it is obligatory for the student to have read several
novels, so that the study of fiction and the classification of stories are important
factors in our university curriculum."

* * *

Mr. F. Marion Crawford and the editor of the Century Magazine have not
escaped adverse criticism in Catholic circles for the story of Casa Braccio.
When the objections to it were first made known a gentleman who had seen the
whole manuscript was authorized to publish this statement :

" Mr. Crawford is aware of the tone of criticism among his co-religionists, but
he is assured in his own mind that they will be satisfied when they have read the
whole work. It is only fair — in a work of art — to give him a chance to round it
out. He makes Maria Addolorata's sin peculiar and terrible; it pursues its
victim with the fury of a Greek Nemesis."

The Republic of Boston has rendered a valuable service to the Catholic
reading public in making a critical examination of the whole story as now pub-
lished in book-form. We recommend the verdict which is here given to the
students of the modern novel at Yale and elsewhere.

Casa Braccio dealt principally with the elopement of a Carmelite nun with
an "infidel Scotchman and its consequences. Their crime was punished as the
author promised. Our quarrel, however, was not with the main plot. There
have been, alas ! many nuns who proved faithless to their vows, and the narrative
of their fall and its subsequent punishment, has often been effectively used to
" point a moral and adorn a tale." But there never was such a convent as Mr.
Crawford painted. There never was such a superior as he placed over the
Carmelite band at Subiaco. For its unfair and untrue description of conven-
tual life we could not but condemn Mr. Crawford's novel.

Had Casa Braccio been the product of a non-Catholic author we should not
have been at such pains to expose its errors. The literature of the day is too
replete with misstatements about Catholic subjects for any one to attempt to cor-

284 NEW BOOKS. [May, 1896.

rect them all. Ordinarily in such a case we are able to trace the errors to the
ignorance or prejudice of the writer. But when the author is an intelligent Catho-
lic the scandal which his calumnies spread is increased a hundred-fold. The great
pity about such a novel as Casa Braccio is that it will naturally confirm the wrong
impressions which Protestants entertain about Catholic convents. Marion Craw-
ford is known to be a Catholic, and is probably regarded by Protestants as an
authority upon all Catholic subjects. The evidence which he furnishes they will
regard as undeniable proof that their suspicions in regard to the convents were
well founded.

There is one fact in regard to Casa Braccio, however, which is comforting.
Considered purely as a literary product, it is far below Mr. Crawford's standard.

It will not live to blight his reputation for intelligence and fairness.

* * *

At St. Teresa's Ursuline Convent, 137 Henry Street, New York City, an
industrious nun has just completed a work designed as a supplementary Reader,
consisting of biographical sketches of very many of the Catholic women writers
of America, with selections, in prose and verse, from their writings ; making a
veritable manual of literature. It is available in any grade. The plan has re-
ceived encouragement from competent judges interested in educational and
literary progress, and has been honored by an autograph letter of approval from
the Most Rev. Archbishop of New York.

Before issuing, it is desirable to estimate the extent of the edition likely to be
needed, and for this reason advance orders will be gratefully appreciated.

M. C. M.

<•

NEW BOOKS.

KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & Co., London :

The Monastic Life from the Fathers of the Desert to Charlemagne. Eighth
volume of the Formation of Christendom. By Thomas W. Allies, K.C.S.G.
GUY & Co., Limerick :

The Child of Mary before Jesus abandoned in (he Tabernacle. I3th edition.
R. WASHBOURNE, London:

Saint Philomena, Miraclc-iaorker of the Nineteenth Century.
D. H. McBRlDE & CO., Chicago :

Prehistoric Americans. By the Marquis de Nadaillac, member of the French

Academy. (Catholic Summer and Winter School Library.)
JOHN MURPHY & Co., Baltimore:

The Christian at Mass. By Rev. Joseph L. Andreis.
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, New York :

England's Wealth ; Ireland's Por>erty. By Thomas Lough, M.P.
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York:

A Memoir of Mrs. Augustus Craven. By Maria Catherine Bishop. Cath-
olic Doctrine and Discipline simply Explained. By Philip Bold. Revised
and in part edited by Father Eyre, S.J. The Bread of Angels. By the
Rev. Bonaventure Hammer, O.S.F. The Child of God : Prayers' for
Little Children.
BARBEE & SMITH, Nashville, Tennessee:

Lucius Q. C. Lamar : His Life and Times. By Edward Mayes, LL.D.
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York:

Your Money or Your Life. By Edith Carpenter.
MACMILLAN& Co., New York:

A Roman Singer. By F. Marion Crawford. (Novelists' Library edition.)
JOSEPH KOESEL, Kempten, Bavaria :

My Will: A Legacy to the Healthy and Sick. By Rev. Sebastian Kniepp.

The publishers of Evolution and Dogma, by Rev. Dr. Zahm, are D. H. Mc-
Bride & Co., of Chicago, and not the firm erroneously named in the April number
of this magazine.

Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven ; and
whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.— ,57. Mat-
thew xviii. 18,

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIII.

JUNE, 1896.

No. 375.

LlOYE AND THE <§HILD.

BY FRANCIS THOMPSON.

" WHY do you so clasp

me,
And draw me to

your knee ?
Forsooth, you. do but

chafe me,
I pray you let me

be:
I will but be loved

now and then;
When it liketh
me!"

So I heard a young child,

A thwart child, a young child,

Rebellious against love's arms,

Make its peevish cry.
To the tender God I turn:—

"Pardon, I/ove most High-!
For I think those arms were even Thine,

And that child even I."

Creccas Cottage, Pantasapli, Holywell, N. Wales, England.

l.-J,

286 THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. [June,

THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM.

BY REV. FRANCIS HOWARD.

[N a progressive society there are always forces in
operation which constantly produce modifications
in the social structure, and effect changes in all
the various social processes. Society is acted
upon by external nature, and it reacts in turn on
its environment ; thus necessitating new adaptations and ad-
justments to new conditions, and bringing about many and
constant changes in society. These changes are sometimes ap-
parent and of minor importance, and more often they are
hidden from the sight of the undiscerning observer, but pro-
duce far-reaching effects and profound transformations. This
process of change is always in operation in society, and the
social organism will cease to be continually reforming only when
it ceases to exist. This state of constant change and readjust-
ment is partly the result of forces inherent in society itself, and
is partly due to the fact that society finds itself in relation to
an ever-varying environment. Change and reformation are
normal processes in every healthy society and are essential to
its harmonious development. If society is to survive and
flourish it must make use of new conditions, must get rid of
old evils, must make changes in industry, in government, and
in all the various social processes, in accordance with the times
and prevailing conditions. One of the first things a student of
society observes, therefore, is that reformation is a perfectly
normal social process, and one constantly in operation.

AN INCESSANT PROCESS OF TRANSFORMATION.

These changes in society may be roughly classified as of
two kinds, namely, those which take place unconsciously and
those which are the results of the conscious efforts of the
social mind. The fundamental and most important changes in
society are usually brought about by forces which society does
not consciously control. In society, as in nature, as shown
more particularly in the science of geology, the force that does
the most work is the one that acts in small and almost imper-
ceptible quantities at a given moment, but whose operation is
continuous over long periods of time and whose accumulated

1896.] THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. 287

effect is enormous. These are the important social forces, and
the study of them is a matter of much practical value. The
growth of our economic system and the marvellous specializa-
tion of modern industry are mainly due to such causes. Some
of these great transforming and adapting agencies in society
are embodied in institutions. And among the institutions that
wield great power in society the power of the Christian Church
is deserving of the most attentive and careful study. There
are also changes in social structure and social process brought
about by the conscious effort of society. And when society
puts forth special effort to effect such change, whether it be
the removal of an old evil or adoption of some new method,
the movement is popularly termed a reform. These conscious
efforts of society are of two kinds. All the so-called reforms
aim at bringing about increase of social well-being, but some of
these efforts tend towards amelioration and many do not. Any
change desired by the well-wisher of society is called a reform.
But there is an easy assumption that every reform means ame-
lioration, while an inductive study of the reform movements in
modern times might well point to an opposite conclusion as the
correct one. Such movements are often explosive in char-
acter, and are indications of weakness rather than of strength.
Their chief utility, when their results are beneficial, is that they
remove obstructions which impede the free operation of those
deeper forces through which the favorable transformations of
society are effected. The movement popularly known as a
social reform is society working at high pressure, and such
forces are temporary in their nature. The fundamental pro-
cess in society is a process of equilibration. All the social
forces are parts of this process, and the true object of wise
social reform is to effect a harmonious balance of all the forces
in operation in society at a given time.

FORMATIVE ACTION OF THE RELIGIOUS AGENCY.

No thoughtful student can look upon social phenomena and
fail to be impressed with the vast importance of the part played
by the religious forces in social life. These religious forces are
enormous in their aggregate, and they have part in every con-
scious and unconscious transformation that takes place in socie-
ty. It is not necessary to argue that the ideals, hopes, aspira-
tions, and beliefs which result from the religious element of
human nature do exert a great, and in many cases a predomi-
nant, influence on action. The greater portion of the forces

288 THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. [June,

originating in the religious feeling of humanity have been and
are, in our Christian civilization, embodied and applied in the
institution of the Christian Church, and if we estimate the
amount of these forces by the time they command or the eco
nomic sacrifices they call forth, or the enthusiasm resulting
from them, or their influence on general conduct, it may be
questioned if any single institution in modern civilization can be
named which exerts an amount of social force equal to that
exerted by the Christian Church.

These religious forces, then, existing through all the muta-
tions and reforms in society, exert an influence in the direc-
tion of social welfare or detriment, or they are neutral in their
effect. On the one hand it may be argued that the religious
forces in society have contributed to social welfare and conser-
vation, while on the other hand it may be contended that these
forces have not in any way contributed to social well-being,
and society has survived in spite of their influences. Again, it
may be said that so far as the welfare and life of society are
concerned the religious forces exert no influence whatever.
Now, on the theory of natural selection, the mere fact of sur-
vival is prima facie evidence of utility, and we need no other
test to prove the social value of the religious forces. The mere
fact that Christianity has survived in the midst of so many mu-
tations, that it has persisted when so many other institutions
have been discarded, is the strongest evidence we could wish to
prove that it has discharged a social function of the highest
utility, and has been an important if not the essential element
in social survival. We need no stronger proof than this that
the religious forces operate in the direction of social conserva-
tion, and that the religious forces in social reform tend towards
social amelioration. Judged by the test of ability to survive,
there is no institution in society to-day of greater vitality and
social value than Christianity, and considering the many attacks
made upon it and efforts to destroy it, its persistence is at least
a remarkable phenomenon.*

ADVANTAGES OF THE CHURCH'S INDEPENDENCE.

It may be thought that the power of the church for social re-
form in our country is greatly curtailed because this power is
exercised within certain limitations which formerly did not exist.
Under conditions prevailing in the United States there is absolute

* This argument, as is well known, is developed by Mr. Kidd in his Social Evolution.
The argument is also used by Professor Patten in his late work, The Theory of Social
Forces,

1896.] THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM.

separation of church and state, and the church exercises no direct
control whatever over any portion of the administrative machinery
of society. It has no power to take measures to administer any
reform in society which it -might be disposed to recommend.

The law-making and executive bodies in our social system
are disposed to resent any direct interference on the part
of any church organization, and the " church in politics " is a
phrase odious to all our citizens. The church lacking powers
of this kind, is also free from responsibility. There are many
reforms in which the church can exercise no .direct influence,
such as clean streets, good sanitation in cities, new methods
bf administration, tax reform, and many others. But while the
importance of such reforms should not, on the one hand, be
minimized, it is, as a matter of fact, too often overrated.

Now, it may be questioned whether the real influence of the
church ever lay in any control which it possessed over adminis-
trative machinery of society. There is reason for believing
that the real social efficiency of the church, and its power for
promoting wise social reforms, is greatly enhanced for the
precise reason that this alliance of the church and the adminis-
trative powers does not exist. There is no country where the
real influence of the church is as potent as in our country, and
there is good reason to believe that this is the result of the sepa-
ration that exists between the church and state in this country.

FUTILITY OF LEGISLATIVE ENACTMENT.

There is always a disposition to exaggerate the importance
of the administrative machinery of society. Men naturally
attribute most importance to that which is most in their
thoughts. A law is merely the expression of social choice, and
both the law and the efficiency of its administration depend
on the degree in which it reflects this choice. The important
influences in society in those matters which are the objects of
social consciousness are those which mould this social choice.
And here is the legitimate sphere of the influence of the
church, a sphere in which its influence is most potent for social
welfare. It is an observation almost too trite to quote that
good laws do not make good men, and that laws are the expres-
sions of the moral feelings of a people rather than the cause of
those feelings. The history of civilization shows that a good
law will have no effect unless a people are prepared for it.
Grave harm has often resulted in society from good laws which
could not be enforced, and the history of legislation indi-

290 THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. [June,

cates that no law will be enforced unless it is the expression of
the rear social choice, and unless supported by the moral sense
and intelligence of the community. Thus, some of the barbar-
ous poor laws failed of enforcement because the people were
not willing to tolerate their cruelty ; and efforts to enforce
good laws in a corrupt community will always end in failure.
A law is of importance only as a declaration* of public opinion,
and it is often the culmination of long and patient endeavor.
Society makes few important moves in the direction of social
well-being which are not in a great degree affected by the
influence of the church on public opinion. This is illustrated
by the present status of the temperance movement in this
country. There has been no dearth of good laws in the past,
but what was needed was a public opinion that would support
the enforcement of these laws. And among the influences
which helped to mould this opinion, and to direct social choice
in wise channels, the influence of the Christian Church has been
the most conspicuous. It may not always be possible to trace
the influence of the church on public opinion, but it is hardly
too much to say that the influence of the church has been felt
in nearly all laws that tend to promote social welfare, and in so
far as it is part of the function of the church to promote social
well-being, its influence is directed towards moulding social choice.

LARGE RESULTS OF THE VOLUNTARY PRINCIPLE.

We have a number of ways of judging of the power of the
Christian Church in the United States. The statistics of
churches compiled by the Census Bureau contain a great deal
of information that is instructive and valuable. This informa-
tion is by no means so complete as might be desired, but it is
perhaps the best that could be obtained, and is no doubt trust-
worthy within the limitations under which it was collected. An
abstract of this information is contained in a smaller volume
by H. K. Carroll, who had charge of the division of churches
of the eleventh census. We have no very accurate means of
estimating the total annual amount of money contributed by
the people of the United States for the support of the Chris-
tian Church. But this annual amount must be very large.
The churches are well maintained and the clergy have a decent
and honorable living, and although it is not easy to make com-
parison by figures, yet it is not unreasonable to assert that
the proportion of national income of the United States devoted
to religious purposes is as large as the proportion devoted to

1896.] THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. 291

these purposes in any European country. The church, more-
over, is a purely voluntary organization, and the amount con-
tributed for religious worship in America is freely contributed,
since there is no law compelling men to contribute money for
this purpose, and the total annual amount contributed for reli-
gious worship is a good indication of the strength of the reli-
gious forces in this country.

The value of the church property in the United States is
also an indication of the strength of the religious forces of the
country. Mr. Carroll, in the work above mentioned, states that
" it is an enormous aggregate of value — nearly $670,000,000 —
which has been freely invested for public use and public good
in church property. This aggregate represents not all that
Christian men and women have consecrated to religious ob-
jects, but only what they have contributed to buy the ground,
and erect and furnish the buildings devoted to worship." The
amount of debt on church property, in regard to which we have
no accurate figures, should be deducted from this estimate, but
it is the policy of nearly all church organizations to own their
church edifices. And as a large part of this aggregate amount
has been contributed by the present generation it is certainly
an indication that the influence of the Christian Church is not
on the wane in America.

CHURCH INFLUENCE ON THE INCREASE.

It is often asserted, however, that the influence of the church
is declining, and that it is losing its hold on the people, and
more particularly the laboring classes. So far as we can test
such assertions by figures, the result is to show that these state-
ments, which are so freely made, are without good foundation.

For the Protestant denominations of the country the census
of 1880 gives 9,263,234 communicants, and the census of 1890
gives 13,158,363 ; an increase of 42 per cent. The increase of
population for this decennial period is estimated at 24.86 per
cent., showing a net increase over population of 17.19 per cent.
The census estimates the increase of Catholic population at not
less than 30 per cent. Leaving aside the question as to the ac-
curacy of the above estimates, and the various circumstances that
must be taken into account in judging them, they are adduced
here simply for the purpose of showing that statements to the
effect that the influence of the Christian Church is declining in

* The Religious Forces in the United States. H.K.Carroll. Introduction, p. xxxii. The
aggregate value of church property is nearly $670,000,000. (See page 381.)

292 THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. [June,

this country are not supported by the only figures obtainable on
the subject. Nor is there any good reason to believe that the
church is losing its influence over the laboring classes. There
are no reliable figures available on this point, and the statement
is supported only by individual experience of those who make it.
Estimates are sometimes given of the numbers of church
members in a given locality. These may show a defection or
an increase. In large cities there are many lines of work in
which men are compelled to labor every day in the week.
There is always a large amount of labor that must be per-
formed on Sunday, and this must prevent many from attending
divine worship. But there is no evidence of general or growing
antipathy or indifference to religion on the part of laboring
men. There is no evidence that the families of working-men
are less interested in religious affairs than formerly. Sentiments
of hostility to religion would not be tolerated in working-men's
assemblies in this country. Finally, there is no reliable evi-
dence to show that laboring men have less interest in religious
matters than formerly. The common complaint, however, is
that the young people are becoming indifferent and falling
away ; but this has been a complaint in all ages, and in spite
of such defections there has been a great increase in the re-
ligious membership in this country, and there is every indi-
cation of a continuance of this increase. It is safe to say that
very few Catholic priests find these statements about the defec-
tion of laboring classes confirmed by their individual experience ;
and these statements often emanate from irresponsible and in-
experienced men ; from ministers sometimes who desire to pro-
claim their interest in the working-man's welfare by contrast-
ing it with an alleged lack of such interest on the part of their
brethren ; or more often from newspaper men and others who,
having themselves ceased to take interest in any religious mat-
ters, make society a mirror in which they see their own image.
There is every reason to believe that the influence of the church
in modern society is as strong as it ever was, and that its in-
fluence over the masses is growing rather than declining. And
considered as an influence in social reform, and as a power
adapted to direct social choice to wise and beneficial social
ends, the church has never been as potent in our country as it
is to-day. In this connection we may quote a few sentences
from the work of Mr. Carroll already alluded to : " It is to be
remembered that all houses of worship have been built by vol-
untary contributions. The government has not given a dollar

1896.] THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL REFORM. 293

to provide them, nor does it appropriate a dollar for their sup-
port. And yet the church is the mightiest, most pervasive,
most persistent, and most beneficent force in our civilization. It
affects, directly or indirectly, all human activities and interests."*

THE ROLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN AMERICA.

It is perfectly obvious to any observer that the Catholic
Church has played an important part in the development of
this country, and will undoubtedly play an equally important-
part in its future progress. In point of numbers it is the
largest religious body in the country, and its membership is
largely made up of the laboring classes in society. To take
the Catholic Church out of this country, would be to eliminate
the strongest religious force operating in American society to-
day. No religious body has been called upon to. perform a
task equal in magnitude and importance to that which the
Catholic Church was called upon to undertake in this country ;
and it may not be invidious to claim that no other religious
body could have accomplished that task so successfully. It was
a task which only the Catholic Church could perform. The
fathers of the Republic invited the oppressed of all nations to
come and settle on our shores. None of the fathers appre-
ciated the magnitude or the difficulties of the work they were
undertaking. Statistics of immigration show that not less than
sixteen million whites came to this country within a century.
To make a homogeneous people out of such a vast number, dif-
fering in language, customs, and racial characteristics, was an
experiment which had never before been tried on a scale so
vast. The first step in the process came through the Catholic
Church, and the first bond of union was a common religion.
The work of Americanizing the foreigner was accomplished in
great part through the church. The results have been astonish-
ing and the experiment has been successful. History affords no
parallel for the great American experiment of this century, and
the part taken by the Catholic Church in this work is as great
and honorable an achievement as any recorded in her history.
The Catholic Church has a vast* and important work before it
in the future of this country. Change and transformation must
continue in society, and the strong and conservative influence
of the church can and will be most powerful in making social
reform promote social well-being, and will prevent it from re-
sulting in social injury and misadjustment.

* Religious Forces in the United States, p. Ix.

294

ALL THE PATHS ARE PEACE.

[June,

ALL THE PATHS ARE PEACE.

BY MARION AMES TAGGART.

HERE in the woods, where moss

each footfall hushes,
Wind the dim paths whose pleas-
ant ways are peace ;
Sighing of pines, and love-songs of

the thrushes,

Murmur refreshment, and of joys
increase.

Flowers are there — pale, fair, and

shyly tender,

Unseen of eye, untouched by mortal hand ;
Dew of the dawn upon their petals slender,
Brushed with a bloom no passing wing hath fanned.

There lies a lake, its bosom deep, unbroken,
Veiled by a lace-work of o'er-arching limbs ;

Low to the shore its virgin thoughts are spoken,
When the bright east the starry splendor dims.

Here in the road the sun mounts hot and higher ;

Dust chokes a highway trod by many feet,
Blinded our eyes, and all our brain is fire ;

There is no shade where rest might be complete.

Flowers grow here, gay, tall, and sweetly cloying,
Soiled by the hands that flout them as they go ;

We too may pluck them for a moment's toying —
Not these the blossoms that our fancies know.

Here flow no springs; our fevered lips are burning,
Brazen the skies from which no rain-drops burst ;

Light waves of laughter mock us in our yearning,
Laughter we echo with our souls athirst.

1896.]

ALL THE PATHS ARE PEACE.

295

There are the woods ! Come forth

from vain regretting ;
Hark to the silence, bidding

turmoil cease ;
Birds, lake, and blossom help us

in forgetting —

There are the woods, and all
the paths are peace.

296 A SAINT. [June,

A SAINT.

BY PAUL BOURGET.

• HIS story is told in the course of a book of tra-
vel in Italy, treating of the scenery in and
around the city of Pisa and of its curious col-
lection of foreign visitors. Among the sight-
seers in the ancient city by the Arno the nar-
rator meets a French youth — a wretched character : unprinci-
pled, heartless, self-engrossed, and full of narrow spite and envy
— whom he deems it his unpleasant duty to study as an ugly
but interesting product of the days in which we live.

With a view to further acquaintance, he invites his queru-
lous compatriot to join him in a two-days' excursion to a mon-
astery in the mountains, where one of the few remaining monks
has brought to light some priceless frescoes by Benozzo Goz-
zoli.

The Frenchmen arrive within sight of Monte Chiaro, and
the first glimpse of the good old father is greeted by a sneer-
ing remark from the ill-mannered youth. The narrator says :

It is true that, seen thus on the threshold of the convent,
all the length of the avenue away, the poor monk was a frail,
pitiable object. He wore a shabby soutane, which had once
been black but was greenish now. He told me afterwards that
the government had consented to his appointment as custodian
of the abbey only on condition that he ceased to wear the pic-
turesque white habit of his order. His lanky figure, somewhat
bent with years, leant upon a staff. Even his hat was napless.
His clean-shaven face, stretched out towards the new-comers,
had, as Philip said, a certain likeness to a comic actor's. His
nose — the typical snuff-taker's nose — was immensely long, and
seemed the longer for his thin cheeks and sunken mouth, the
front teeth of which were wanting. But the old man's glance
quickly dissipated the unfavorable first impression. Although
his eyes were not large, and their greenish hue was vague and
misty, a light burned in them which must have cut short the
youth's quizzing, had he had the faintest sense of physiognomi-
cal values.

The impertinence of his stupid jest shocked me all the more

1896.] A SAINT. 297

because the phrase was very distinctly uttered in the solemn
silence of this late afternoon of autumn.

The hermit, whose guests we were about to become, ad-
dressed us in the purest Italian : "You have come to see the abbey,
gentlemen ; but why did you not send me a word of warning?"
Then, addressing the coachman, he asked : " So you never told
these gentlemen, Pasquale, that I ought to receive a line before-
hand ? "

" But, father, I thought the gentlemen had written before
the manager of their hotel handed them over to me."

"Well, well! Whatever there is they shall have," he said;
and, turning to us, he added, smiling and lifting his eyes to
heaven, " Come, first, and see your rooms. As a set-off to the
bad dinner I will install you as abbots-general."

He laughed again at his innocent pleasantry, which at the
moment I did not catch fully, for my attention was absorbed
by the strange scene. Lit by the rays of the setting sun, the
vast building was red all over. I could gauge its enormous ex-
tent and its utter solitude. Monte Chiaro had been built at
various periods, dating from that day when the head of the
Gherardescas — the uncle of the tragic Ugolino — withdrew, in
1259, with nine companions, to this lonely valley to give him-
self up to a life of penance. A century ago more than three
hundred monks found ample accommodation there. The abbey
was entirely self-sufficing, with its bakery, fish-ponds, wine-
presses, and cow-sheds. But now the innumerable windows of
this pious farming colony were all closed. The whitish tint of
the shutters — green once — and the grass-grown terrace in front
of the church proved the place all but abandoned. So also
did the veil of dust that hung upon the corridor walls past
which Dom Griffi led us. Every detail of the ornamentation
spoke of the abbey's ancient grandeur, from the marble washing
place with its lions' heads, at the entrance to the refectory, to
the architecture of the three successive frescoed cloisters. A
first glance at the paintings revealed the pedantic taste of
Italian seventeenth century art. Perhaps, under these very con-
ventional pictures, lay hid some other inspired masterpieces of
a Gozzoli or an Orcagna.

We ascended a staircase the walls of which were hung with
time-dimmed canvases — one of them representing a charming cav-
alier, by Timoteo della Vita, Raphael's real master. By what
strange chance did this picture come here ?

Afterwards we threaded our way through another corridor

298 A SA/A'T.

on the first floor. It was pierced with doors bearing such
inscriptions as Visitator primus, Visitator sccundus, and so on.
We halted before the last door, over which stood a mitre and
crozier. The father, who had not spoken since we crossed the
threshold except to point out the Timoteo, now said, in a French
which bore a trace of the Italian idiom, but hardly any foreign
accent: "This is one of the places where I quarter guests "; and
showing us in, " These are the rooms that the superiors occu-
pied for the last five hundred years."

I glanced sideways at Master Philip, who began to look
rather foolish on perceiving our guide's perfect knowledge of
our tongue. Along the corridors he had again indulged in
several jests of very doubtful taste. Had the father noticed ?
Was he now warning us that he understood our least word ?
Or was it merely his instinct of hospitality that prompted him
to save us the trouble of foreign speech? His large, immobile
features did not help me to divine his intention. The memo-
ries evoked by the great vaulted chamber appeared entirely to
absorb him. A few modern chairs, a square table, and a couch
furnished meagrely. An altar and some smoke-stained pictures
could be seen through a half-open door in one of the room's
angles, where, doubtless, the superior used to say his prayers.
Another door, standing wide open, led into two rooms commu-
nicating with each other, and each having its iron bedstead,
some chairs, and a basin on the top of a shabby chest of drawers.
The tiled floors were not even colored. The warped wood-
work of doors and windows was split open. But a sublime land-
scape lay without. A hamlet, a mere pyramid of masonry, was
perched on the opposite heights ; and thence to the abbey a
marvellous forest spread downwards. No melancholy cypresses
here, but oaks whose greenery was in parts turning purple.
The lower valley was marked by a different sort of cultivation.
It sloped sunwards, and olive-trees appeared beside the oaks.
This was evidently the region where the religious exiles of this
desert had labored their hardest. Beyond the oasis the moun-
tains became still more lonely and barren. The highest peak
of the Pisan range, the Verruca, towered above the scene. A
ruined castle crumbled away on its summit. The square bastion
of the monastery, built out towards the Verruca, must have
been for defence against the lawless lord who made that hill-
fort his lair. Beyond the window the reddish fortification's cren-
elated parapet was outlined against the blue sky and rosy clouds.
My companion was no longer inclined to mock. He was touched

1896.] A SAINT. 299

to the core of his artist's soul — as I too was touched — by the grace
and grandeur of the prospect that, under a similar aspect, must
have been looked upon by so many monks, now dead and gone:
some with no care but for the other world, and some who saw
in the glowing, soft, pink skies a reflection of the roses of
Paradise, while others, the ambitious spirits and born rulers,
dreamt perhaps of a cardinal's hat, or, even the triple crown, at
this very spot, in this same wondrous silence.

Puis le vaste et pro fond silence de la mort.

Lines of the Contemplations come back to me whenever I
have the painful sensation of being close to those things which
have once been, and never again will be ! It lasted but one
minute, yet during that minute the whole of the ancient life of
the abbey rose before me as it existed in the dreams — proud, or
humble, as the case might be — of those whose sole successor was
the old priest in the threadbare soutane and unpolished shoes.

He broke the silence with : " Is not that an admirable view ?
For forty years I have lived in the monastery without going
out of it, and I never wearied of this prospect."

"Forty years!" I exclaimed, almost involuntarily. "And
never to go away ! But, surely, you travelled sometimes ? "

" True, yes ; I went away twice," he said. " Each time it
was for six days. I went home to Milan when my sister died.
She had a wish that I should administer the last sacraments
to her. Dear, saintly soul ! And I went to Rome to give back
my monk's habit to my old master, Cardinal Peloro. Yes," he
went on, gazing at some imaginary point in space, " I came
here in 1845. How beautiful Monte Chiaro was in those days !
How splendidly the High Masses were sung ! To have known
this abbey as I have known it, and to see it as I now see it,
is like finding a soulless corpse where one had seen youth and
life. But patience, patience !

Multa renascentur qua jam cecidere, cadentque
Qua nunc sunt in honor e.

" Now, gentlemen, I will leave you, to go and order your
dinner. Luigi will bring up your luggage. In his case, you
must know — patience, patience ! One must close one's eyes,
and ask the help of God ! "

Dom Gabriele Griffi went out. He had hardly crossed the
threshold when Philip dropped into one of the chairs, laughing
his eternal, mocking laugh.

3oo A SAI.YT. LJune>

" Faith," said he, " it was worth coming here only to see
that ridiculous old fellow."

" I don't know what the priest has said to you that strikes
you as ridiculous," I retorted. " He told you, very simply,
the history of his abbey — which cannot but be a subject of
grief to him ; and he bears his sorrow with the hopefulness of
a true believer. I'm nearly fifteen years older than you. I've
tossed about the world, as you doubtless have done too, run-
ning after a good many will-o'-the-wisps, alas ! And I know
that there is no higher wisdom, and nothing grander on earth,
than a man who gives himself to one task, with unfailing
enthusiasm, in a single corner of the world."

" Amen ! " sang out my young companion, laughing still
louder. " Dear me ! His grand High Mass ! His master, the
cardinal ! The saintly soul, his sister ! And on top of everything
quotations from Horace, and the functions of a house-steward !
After all, we shall pay for his hospitality. This hovel is worth
a quarter-dollar per night," he went on, drawing me into the
first of the sleeping-rooms. " But," he added, in mockery,
" since this is displeasing to you, dear master —

An odd fish ! I cannot better describe the feeling he pro-
duced in me than by saying he was like a shutter that swings
with rusty hinges on every wind that blows. At each new im-
pression that he received his nerves seemed to vibrate to a
false note. But the unexpected feature — one which I have not
sufficiently brought into relief — was the cleverness of which he
gave evidence between his spiteful sallies. (He was like a
naughty, ill-bred child.) I omitted to mention that, on our
journey, he had astonished me by two or three remarks on the
geological formation of the country we were passing through ;
and now, stepping out on the little balcony which belonged to
both our rooms, the abbey's square defensive tower set him
talking about Florentine architecture like a man that had read
carefully and had used his eyes well, too — a double course which
is, unluckily, sadly uncommon. This kind of knowledge, which
lay quite outside his professional studies, completely proved his
astounding versatility. I had already discovered his vast stores
of information regarding higher, and lower, contemporary
literature. His intelligence, however, seemed to belong to him
as a jewel might have done ; or rather, as a machine might have
been his. It was a thing apart from himself. He possessed it ;
it did not possess him. It gave him no power to believe, or
to love. Involuntarily, I compared him with Dom Gabriele

1896.] A SAINT. 301

Griffi, at whom he had just been laughing. Undoubtedly, this
poor monk did not shine by the subtlety of his intellect ; but,
from the first moment, he had impressed me with his true-
heartedness, and his beautiful devotion to his mission — the care
of his dear abbey until the hoped-for return of his brethren.
Of these two, which was the young man, and which the old,
if "youth consists in an ideal held with an invincible con-
stancy"? My young companion, eaten up with irony and a
precocious destructiveness and negation, was, at any rate, con-
sistent. If he were the antithesis of the poor priest placed in
charge of the empty monastery, he was at least frankly anti-
thetical— the opposition of the latter half of the century to
the pious and simple spirit of olden days. Was not my own
case unhappier than that of either of them ? For my part, I
was capable of spending my life in analyzing both the criminal
charm of denial and the splendors of profound faith, without
ever adopting either stand-point for my own. Yet, these are as
opposite poles for the human soul.

These reflections forced themselves upon me afresh when,
at about seven o'clock, I was seated before the meal that the
monks had prepared for us, in a great hall which, he told us,
had formerly been the novices' refectory. A brass four-flamed
lamp of antique form, having its accessory snuffers, pins, and
extinguishers hanging to it by chains of the same metal, lit
up with a somewhat smoky radiance the corner of a huge
table, set out with flasks which bore the arms of the abbey.
Each diner had two of them — one for wine ; the other, water.
These bottles measured the amount of liquid that the monks
used to be allowed for the quenching of their daily thirst. A
dish of fresh figs, and one of grapes, stood ready for our
dessert. Plates already filled with soup were waiting for us ;
also some goat's cheese on a platter ; and there was raw ham,
which, with some stale bread, completed the bill of fare, of
which the frugality called forth another Latin quotation like
that which we had already heard.

He had said grace as we all sat down ; and now, waving
towards the dishes to which Virgil's words applied, he said :

" Castanace mo lies et pressi copia tact is"

" That is what I was expecting," whispered Philip ; and
then, in his gravest manner, he began to discuss with our enter-
tainer the diet of the ancients. I feared, not without reason,
VOL. LXIII. — 20

302 A SAINT. [June,

that this seeming amiability was only meant to lead up to
some hoax or petty persecution.

" But when you have no passing travellers you dine alone
here, father ? " he asked.

" No," answered the priest. " There are still two other
brothers in the convent. We were seven. Four died of grief
immediately after the suppression. We all fell ill, one by oner
and we took what care we could of each other. It was not the
will of God that we should all perish."

" And when you and the two brothers are no longer here ? "
Philip went on.

" Con gallo e senza gallo, Dio fa giorno" the priest answered
in Italian. A little cloud darkened his brow, but was gone
again in a moment. The question stung him in his tenderest
point. " Cock, or no cock," he translated, " God sends his day-
light."

"And how do you fill up your time, father?" I asked,
incited by curiosity at the sight of a faith so deep that I felt
as if I were in the presence of a being belonging to the mid-
dle ages.

" Oh ! I have not a moment's leisure," replied Dom Griffu
" Almost alone, as I am, I rent the farm, the abbey, and all the
lands round it. I give employment to fifteen peasants' families.
From early morning onwards it is like a procession, the people
marching into and out of my cell. I never have an hour's
peace. They bring their accounts ; there are confessions to be
heard ; or some one wants some medicament. For I'm a sort
of doctor, an apothecary, a judge, and a schoolmaster. Yes, I
teach the children. Luigi, too, is a pupil of mine ; not much
credit to me, but a good fellow after all. And then, I'm the
guide. I show the visitors over the abbey." . .

Philip's eyes and mine met. I noticed the mischief gleam-
ing in his, and listened to him with stupefaction. "We have had
several highly edifying examples of holiness [in our country] ;
notably one Baudelaire, an author, and certain of his disciples.
They are so humble that they call themselves ddcadent. They
write hymns, and meet to recite them. They have their own
newspapers, to spread the light. Nothing can be more edifying
than such great faith among the young."

"Well now, I knew nothing of all this," the monk answered.
" They call themselves ' decadent,' did you say ? "

" Yes ; those who go down — who seek the lowly," explained
Philip.

1896.] A SAINT. 303

" I understand," said the father. " They do penance — and
rightly! We have an Italian proverb: Non bisogna aver paura
eke de' suoi peccati (We need fear nothing but our sins)."

In order to cut short the absurdities of my young com-
panion I said, at the end of our frugal meal ; " Good father,
may we not see Gozzoli's frescoes this evening ?"

" You won't be able to judge them fairly by candle-light,"
Dom Griffi answered. However, the pleasure of showing his
recovered treasures decided him. " After all, you'll see them
again to-morrow. Ah, how delighted the monks will be when
they come back to find these beautiful paintings ! I hope to have
time this winter to finish cleaning them. Luigi, fetch the
handle with the taper, my son. It is in the chapel. Here is
the key," and he drew from his pocket a bunch of huge keys.
"There is much locking of doors to be done here," he explained,
" with the neighbors going and coming all day long. They are
excellent people, to be sure ; but it is wrong to tempt poverty."

Luigi soon returned with a sort of wax vesta tied to the
end of a stick, evidently the lighter of the altar candles. The
monk rose, said grace, and, with the gayety of a child, laughed :
" I go before you, and as we shall go through a real labyrinth,
you may say, with Dante :

" Per la impacciata via, retro al mio duca "-

(By the tortuous road, after my guide)."

" Dante again ! " whispered Philip. " These creatures can do
nothing — can't even eat a bit of Gorgonzola, that horrible green
cheese of theirs — without inflicting on one some lines of their
dolt of a Florentine, by name Durante ; that is, French Du-
rand. Did you know that? Valles invented that capital joke.
Imagine the Divine Comedy signed Durante ! I think I'll tell
our host —

" I think you'll make a mistake," I put in. " I have told
you already how much I admire their great poet."

"Oh, I know!" he asseverated. "That is the priestly, slav-
ish, idolatrous side of your character. But I, you see, belong
to a generation of iconoclasts. There lies all the difference."

We exchanged these remarks in an undertone, as our guide's
soutane, oddly lit up by the unprotected and flickering flames
of his lamp, preceded us through interminable corridors. We
went up one staircase. We descended another. We passed
through a pillared cloister. Sometimes a night-bird flew off at
our approach, or a stealthy, frightened cat fled away. Had

304 A SAINT. [June,

there been ever so little moonlight, we should have touched the
heights of romantic effect, and the walk through the enormous
abbey might have furnished us with the seed of countless night-
mares. In my thought I conjured up the monks of old who
used to pass the same way during the. dark hours, going to the
night services in the chapel. I could see our guide himself,
forty years earlier, threading his way behind the brethren —
young, full of fervent faith, and in love with his order. What
memories must be his — almost the only one left in that vast
deserted building ! Well, perhaps not ! For he seemed light-
hearted under misfortune, almost jovial — his trust being so sure.
What a power there is in the mysterious phenomenon of belief ;
absolute, entire, impregnable Belief !

But Dom Griffi had stopped before a door. He searched
for another key in the jailer-like key-bunch which he held in
his free hand. The old lock screamed with rust, and we en-
tered a large apartment, where the four uncertain flames of our
lamp vaguely lit up two frescoed walls, and another, which at
the first glance seemed only whitewashed.

"My son," said the priest to Luigi, "give me the taper that
I may light it. You would let the wax fall on my soutane
again, and it does not need that."

He set down the lamp on the floor, and carefully examined
the fastening of the taper. He then lit the small wick, and be-
gan to pass the flame along the wall. It was magical to see
the old master's work coming to life, bit by bit, under the light.
The monk lit up the first wall, and we saw Christ's bleeding
side ; the Apostle's hand tearing wider the cruel wound ; the
sorrowful glance of the Saviour ; and on St. Thomas's face an
expression of mingled remorse and curiosity. Angels carried
the instruments of the Passion heavenwards, while the tears
coursed down their delicate cheeks. On another wall we were
shown each detail by itself. Gondoforus' gold-embroidered,
green tunic ; the precious stones brimming over the vases which
were offered to the apostles ; while the peacocks spread their
gorgeous tail-feathers on the balconies; brilliantly-colored par-
rots perched on the tree branches ; and great lords went a-hunt-
ing on the mountain-side, leading leopards by the chain. The
little flame ever wandered about, like a will-o'-the-wisp. When
it had passed by, the corner brought out of the vague shadows
fell back again into sudden gloom. So treated, it was impossi-
ble to judge of the general effect of the work ; but, caught by
glimpses, it had a strange, fantastic charm, in harmony with

1896.] A SAINT. 305

the time and the place. Dom Griffi, thus exhibiting the two
frescoes, was childlike in his expansive delight in them. He re-
joiced in beholding them, as a miser rejoices in handling the
diamonds in his horde. Were not these precious jewels, with
which he had dowered his beloved monastery, his very own —
for had he not re-created them ? And he talked, dramatizing
his phrases by the aid of his wrinkled and expressive face.
" Look at the apostle's finger — the hesitation expressed in it ;
and our Lord's gesture, and his mouth ! That is what one
does, don't you see ? when one is suffering very much, and
that the doctor touches one.

" And the landscape in the background ! Don't you recog-
nize Verruca, and Monte Chiaro here ? Just look ! There, on
the right, are your rooms. And see how small the angels' eyes
have become ! They are crying, but they don't want to let their
tears fall — so ! And their noses pucker up — like this ! Then
the black king; look at his earrings. One of our fathers, who
died here after the suppression (God rest his soul!), had made
some excavations in the neighborhood of one of our abbeys,
near Volterra. He discovered an Etruscan tomb, and earrings
just like those lying beside the head of a skeleton. I have
them still. I'll show them to you. And here!" he turned
round, at this moment, and threw the light upon a spot on the
right, where I had supposed at first that there was only a blank
wall. The magic flame lit up half a hand's-breadth of the white
space. As luck would have it in an attempt to clean a spot, and
before an interruption came obliging him to give up his task, the
old monk had revealed just half the face of a Madonna — the
line of the chin ; the mouth, nose, and eyes. The smile and
the glance of the Virgin, looking out from the great white-
washed wall, startled as a supernatural vision might startle. The
little flame wavered somewhat, held as it was at the end of a
long pole in the hands of an old man, and it seemed as if the
Madonna's lips moved ; she breathed ; the pupils of her eyes
trembled. One might well think that a living creature stood
there, who would shake off this winding-sheet of plaster and ap-
pear before us in the unencumbered grace of youth. Our host
was now silent, but his countenance betokened such profound
piety and admiration that I quite understood why it was he
did not hasten to remove the rest of the fresco's white veil.
His natural artistic instinct, and his fervent faith, made him
realize all the poetry of the divine smile and eyes imprisoned,
as it were, in their rough cerecloth. We were all quiet ; Philip

306 A SAIA'T. LJune>

at last conquered by the strong, the impressive. I heard him
murmuring: "Why, this is out of Edgar Allan Poe ! This is
a thing of Shelley's ! "

The father, who assuredly knew neither author, answered
innocently — never suspecting that he was pronouncing the finest
critique on the phrases and feelings of his young neighbor :
"Oh, no! this is Gozzoli's. I can show you the proof in Vasari.
And what, think you, remains behind ? Well, it must be the
miracle of the girdle ! "

"What miracle?" I asked.

" What ! " he cried, with vast surprise, " have you never
seen the dome at Pistoja, with the painting of the Blessed Vir-
gin throwing down her girdle to St. Thomas after her Assump-
tion ? He was not there when she was assumed into heaven
in presence of the other apostles. He came back three days
after; and as, again, he would not believe what he had not
seen, Our Lady had the charity to let the girdle fall down be-
fore him, so that he should never more have doubts."

He told us this legend — which proves, by the way, that the
early Christians foresaw the sceptical analytic mind, and held
its salvation possible — while he was blowing out the taper, which
he handed over to Luigi, and rebolting the door. The simpli-
city of conviction with which he spoke of the miracle was
proof that he lived in an atmosphere of the supernatural, just
as we, children of the century, live in an atmosphere of rest-
lessness and mocking denial. I could not but compare him,
mentally, to the frescoed fragment he had but now shown us
on that third wall. This scrap of painting was enough to ani-
mate the vast sheet of white plaster ; and Dom Gabriele was,
by himself, enough to animate this great desert of an abbey.
He was, indeed, the true soul of the place. I felt this now; a
soul, too, .which represented, in the exact meaning of the term,
the souls of all his absent brethren. When I was a child I
saw an officer of the Grande Armce pass along a paved-way in
our town. The old soldier walked lame. He was poor, for his
rosette graced a very shabby coat. Nevertheless, for me, he
was an epic poem of the empire. Had not the emperor, with
his own hand, given him his Cross of the Legion ? And now
I experienced much the same feeling as I followed Dom Griffi.
He seemed to wear his whole order in the folds of the old
soutane of which Luigi took so little care.

Such is the grandeur conferred by absolute self-renunciation
in the cause of some great and lofty task. We give up our

1896.] A SAJATT. 307

own will, and grow great in so doing, by a law strangely
misunderstood by modern society, which is in love with a vul-
gar individualism. The worth of a man can be measured by
his devotion to an ideal.

What would Dom Griffi have been without his abbey ?
Probably a narrow-minded antiquary, cataloguing some small
museum. For, when his enthusiasm abated, while we were
going up again to our rooms, he talked like an ordinary col-
lector, forgetting essentials in a work of art, to discuss mere
accidents, resemblances, or genuineness.

" The subject of the girdle and St. Thomas has been painted
often," he said. " You'll find in the Florentine Academy a
delightful bas-relief by Lucca della Robbia, where Our Lady,
surrounded by angels, presents her girdle to St. Thomas.
Francesco Granacci treated this subject twice ; and Fra Paolino
of Pistoja ; and Taddeo Gaddi ; and Giovanni Antonio Sogliani ;
and Bastiano Mainard — the last-named at Santa Croce. .
But will you come into my cell, and see the earrings and Dom
Pio Schedone's little collection ? "

We agreed. Philip was possibly influenced by an archaeo-.
logical bent, which underlay his character of budding author ;
and I was impelled by a curiosity to know among what class
of objects our host lived. The first room we entered betrayed
the utter carelessness of the grotesque servant who went by
the name of Luigi. Books were heaped up here which, judged
by their bulk and bindings, could only be the Fathers of the
church. Lying with these a pair of pincers, hammers, and a
boxful of screws, proved that, in case of need, Dom Griffi
could mend locks and furniture without the help of any work-
man. Flasks, covered with stained and blackened straw-plait,
held samples of the last oil and wine harvests; some lemons
were drying on a plate. An earthen jar of the sort that Tus-
can women call scaldino, and which they fill with live coals,
warming their hands as they hold it, was the only thing that
spoke of comfort in the little brick-floored study, where a black
cat lounged lazily. Some English lady, his grateful guest, was
doubtless the giver of the sole luxurious feature of this cell in
Topsy-turvydom — a small silver tea-set. But Luigi had carefully
abstained from polishing the tea-pot, which therefore stood
blackening on its shelf. A large crucifix on a pedestal towered
above the papers on the writing-table. There lay below a
mass of little sheets covered with bold, decided characters.

"Those are my master's sermons. I am ordered to copy

308 A SAINT. [June,

them," said Dom Gabriele. " He wishes his book to be pub-
lished before his death. He is eighty-seven. Ah ! his writing is
terribly perfide" he added, using a new-fangled Italian word ;
" and I have so little time ! Fortunately, I only need four
hours' sleep. . . . Nero, Nero, get off that chair! Away,
inicino ! away, mutzi!" He talked to the cat as Pasquale had
talked to his mare ; and Nero sprang right in the midst of the
manuscripts — the old cardinal's brevet of immortality.

" Good ! Now sit down," he said to me ; " and you, Signer
Filippo." At the beginning of dinner he had asked our Chris-
tian names, so that he might use them, as is the friendly cus-
tom of his country. " Where on earth is that terrible little
casket ? Ah, here — below the volume of the Fathers where I
was searching St. Irenaeus through, the other day, for that
passage against the Gnostics. You remember, the Basilidians
maintained they might escape martyrdom, on the plea of not
making known their beliefs to the vulgar crowd. Ah, pride \
pride ! You find it at the root of every heresy and every
sophism. And faith is such a good thing ! Above all, it is so
• easy to believe. But here's the box. I keep it unlocked. I
need shut up nothing here, because all belongs to me and not
to the abbey. Now then, where are those earrings ? "

As he spoke he drew out a coffer, the fastening of which
originally must have been so complicated that, once out of
order, it would have been quite beyond the skill of the poor
workmen of this out-of-the-way place to mend it.

When he lifted the lid we saw within a considerable num-
ber of small objects carefully folded up in endorsed covers.
The round shape of most of them plainly proved that the late
Dom Pio Schedone's collection consisted principally of coins.

It astonished me to find that the workmanship of the Etrus-
can earrings was first rate. I took up one of the small, round
packets, and read outside Julii Ccesarius Aureus. On examina-
tion the coin seemed undoubtedly genuine. I held it out to
Philip, who called my attention to the reverse, saying, " It's a
splendid specimen and extremely rare."

I took up a second, a third, and, with amazement, lit upon
a Brutus of which I chanced to know the value, in this wise :
Looking for New Year's gifts the year before, it occurred to
me to select rare old coins for certain hostesses at whose houses
I had often dined. These things answer for pendants for

bangles or bracelets. My good friend, Gustave S , one of

the greatest numismatists of our time, brought me to an anti-

1896.] A SAINT. 309

quary's. I had been much taken with a gold piece bearing on
one side the head of Brutus the younger, and on the other
that of the elder. My friend could not help smiling at my
ignorance when I said, " I shall be delighted to have this one,"
and the antiquary answered, " For you, sir, on account of your
friend here, the price will be thirteen hundred francs."

And this coin, the value of which I knew, lay there, with
some sixty others, in Dom Pio's little case. I could not refrain
from an exclamation as I showed the Brutus to Philip, telling
him what I knew about it.

"I can quite believe it," he returned, "for I know some-
thing about coins ; and, as you see, it is in perfect condition.
The coin, too, is from an unworn die-stamp."

" You have a real treasure here, father," I said to Dom
Griffi, who had listened as if he only half-believed in my being
in earnest. I went on to explain how it was that I came to
know the value of at least one of his coins ; and I assured
him that my companion was capable of forming a sound
opinion.

"You say just what Dom Pio was always saying," he replied ;
and, little by little, his expression changed. " He had gathered
these coins, here and there, in his excavating. Poor Pio died
when things were at their worst with us here ; and I have
been so busy that I have put off having his collection examined
by Professor Marchetti, whom you must have met at Pisa. In-
deed, I had quite forgotten it ; and had it not been for King
Gondoforus I should never even have thought of looking at
them. The other day, though, when pulling about these old
books, I remembered having seen some odd-looking earrings in
Dom Pio's hands. I searched the case, found them, spoke of
them to you. Faith," he added, rubbing his hands joyfully, " I
should be heartily glad if you were right. There is a terrace
near the keep which threatens to 'fall down, and the govern,
ment refuses a grant for repairs ; but, if I had four thousand
francs, it could be all put right. However, four thousand
francs ! " He shook his head incredulously, pointing to the
casket.

"Why, bless me!" I exclaimed, "in your place, father, I
would consult that professor ; for I see there a gold piece, a
Domitian, with a temple on the reverse, and I am sure I have
seen it placed alongside the most valuable coins."

" Exceedingly rare," Philip chimed in. He was closely ex-
amining the coins. " This Julian is also of great value, and

310 A SAINT. [June,

this Didia Clara. They are magnificent specimens. Like enough
some peasant near Volterra simply lit upon the treasure of a
beaten legion and sold the lot to Dom Pio."

" If it be true," the priest said, again rubbing his hands,
"it would prove once more the truth of the dear cardinal's
favorite saying : Dio non manda mai bocca, che non manda cibo*
I have prayed so hard about this terrace ! It was where the
sick brothers used to go and sit in the sunshine when they
were getting better. So I'll write to Signer Marchetti to pay
me a visit as soon as he can. Ah ! that is a true friend. He
loves to be at Monte Chiaro. To-morrow morning, when I
say Mass, I will thank God for this ; and I will pray for you.
Well now ! I was just going to forget to tell Luigi to be ready
to serve Mass at six o'clock. At seven there are people com-
ing by appointment."

A little later, when I was bidding Philip good-night, I said
to him : " Don't you think it easy to understand how circum-
stances can seem quite providential ? Look at what has just
happened ! The poor monk is in need of money for his monas-
tery. He prays to God with all his strength. Two strangers
prove to him that he has the sum there, under his .hand — "

" A stupid chance ! " cried Philip, shrugging his shoulders.
" Did you ever in your life hear of a talented youth, like me
(who only wants a small amount of money in order to show
what he is made of), finding the sum ? Or of a great writer
winning a prize in a lottery? Well, I've known business people,
rich and stupid enough for anything, down in my part of the
country, whose Paris bonds were drawn, bringing them in two
hundred thousand francs. A cousin of mine left me one of
those bonds in his will. Luckily, I sold it. But do you sup-
pose that ever, in ten weary years, it was drawn ? Not it !
Not to bring me in six thousand francs, or two thousand, or
one ! And there's that donkey of a monk who will have them —
six thousand francs ! And what will he do with them ? Mend
an old terrace for monks who will never come back ! Bah !
Chamfort said the world was made by the devil gone mad.
Had he said gone helpless, gone idiotic, tJiat would have been
more like the truth ! "

" Meantime," I put in merrily, in the tone of .one talking to
a sick child and determined not to be vexed with what was,
after all, a justifiable complaint — " meantime, go to sleep your-
self ; and let me do the same."

*God never sends the mouths, but he sends something to fill them, too*

1896.] A SAINT. 311

The wind had risen, a melancholy autumn wind, which
sighed softly and sadly round the abbey, and I found it hard
enough to put in practice my own part of the programme, and
sleep on the somewhat hard bed of the abbot-general. I heard
Philip tramping up and down his room, and I wondered if, in
spite of his scoffing — which was too exaggerated not to be
factitious — he were not touched by the sight of such a pious,
resigned life as that of our host. The priest's words about
certain providential occurrences came back to my mind. Can we
reflect deeply and sincerely upon our destiny, and that of those
belonging to us, without realizing intuitively that a spirit dis-
poses of us, leading us, often by crooked paths, towards things
which we do not comprehend ? But, above all, in the punish-
ment which waits on wrong-doing does this mysterious spirit
reveal its presence. The moralists in all times granted thus
much — from the Greek poets who adored Nemesis, the dim,
universal equity, down to Shakspere and Balzac, the great
masters of the modern art-world. Does not the idea of Justice,
final and grand, enwrapping round the existence of man, tower
above all else in their works ? And then I set forth objections,
impelled by the analytic habit of mind, which cannot be cast
off as easily as our host averred. I pondered on that other
law which decrees that all things shall fade and perish, even
what is best among human institutions, from a moral entity,
such as an abbey, down to the masterpieces of art. Benozzo's
frescoes had just been found again after four hundred years, to
disappear anew in another few hundred years ; but, this time,
to be destroyed by the invincible work of time. Ah, yes ! all
things perish ; and everything springs up afresh. Dom Griffi
had spoken of the Basilidians, of their fine-spun theories, and
of the pride which lies at the root of all heresy. I recalled
the astonishing similarity (borne in upon me during my study of
the Alexandrine philosophers) between their paradoxes and the
moral maladies of our own day. Was not my young oompatriot
a case in point ? Had he not defended just the sophism the
Gnostics delighted in, regarding the lie of contempt, when we
discussed the relations between writers and readers ? And all
this time I heard him tramping up and down (what trouble
could be preying on him ?) until, in spite of the argumentative
contradictions that beset me, I shut my eyes ; and when I
woke in the morning it was the innocent Luigi who stood by
my bed, laden with a coffee-tray. Almost at the same moment
the monk came into my room :

312 A SAINT. [June,

" Bravo ! " he cried, with his pleasant laugh. " You have slept
well, and have given the lie to the proverb, Chi dorme non
piglia pesci* ; for a countryman has brought you the very fresh-
est of trout for your breakfast. As for Signer Filippo, he is
already climbing the mountains. As I came from Mass I saw
him mounting up in the direction of the village, as active as a
cat. When you're ready we'll go see the Benozzos by day-
light. I'm sure Signer Filippo will be back then. You must
see the abbey library, too. Ah ! if you only knew how rich it
was before the first suppression — Napoleon's ! But patience —
since we are going to have our terrace ! Multa renascentur, you
know."

An hour later I was up ; had drunk, without making too
many faces, Luigi's coffee (which consisted mainly of chicory),
and the father and myself were again before the Indian king,
Gondoforus, and the Virgin's smile. Dom Griffi had found
time to show me the greater and lesser refectories, the libraries,
fish-ponds, cisterns, and the little nursery-garden where he was
growing tiny cypresses, to be transplanted later. Philip had
not returned. Had he lost himself ? Or had he such an un-
conquerable antipathy for the conversation and society of the
priest as nervous subjects like himself are prone to feel ? I
confess these speculations would have troubled me little, so
much had his perpetual sneers jarred upon me, but that, about
eleven o'clock, as we returned through the monastery, a small
matter literally struck terror into me. The thing was unex-
pected. I had not had the smallest foreboding. Dom Griffi
begged me to excuse him ; he was obliged to leave me alone
till the dtjeftner. I had no books ; for a wonder, I • owed no
letters. "If I might look again at the coins!" I thought;
and I begged to have the casket, which the priest himself
brought me. In the quiet of my room I unfolded the papers
one after another, admiring here the laurel-crowned profile of
an emperor, and there a Victory. I don't know why a longing
came once more to see the golden Caesar with Anthony's head.

But I sought in vain through the coins for this piece. I
took them out, one by one, and nowhere was the name of the
dictator to be seen. " We put them in the wrong papers," I
said to myself, and I patiently unfolded them all. But there
was no C*sar ! And there was no Brutus, either ! I think I
never in my life felt an agony to be compared to the agony
that wrung my heart when I perceived that the two coins

* The sleepers catch no fish.

1896.] A SAINT. 313

(value for, certainly, two thousand francs) were now gone,
although late last night they had assuredly been there. I had
held them in my hand. I had conned over the details as if
with a magnifying glass. I had myself named their approxi-
mate value to the monk. And now they were gone ! I had a
hope that he might have laid them aside to send to Pisa at
once, thus to have an earlier opinion as to their authenticity ;
and I ran to his cell at the risk of disturbing him. To remain
in suspense upon this point would have been quite intolerable.

Dom Griffi was busy. There was a heavy-faced, red-haired
peasant with him, and the difficulty appeared to be to extract
a debt from his grasp, for he held a case, drawing from its poc-
kets, with comic reluctance, now a five-franc note and now a ten.

The priest saw by my face that I was the bearer of grave
tidings. " Your friend is not ill ? " he asked quickly.

" No ; but I must put a question to you, father," I answered.
41 Did you take any of the gold pieces out of the box we looked
at last night?"

" Not one," replied the good old man frankly. " The casket
remained here just as we left it."

"Good Heavens!" I cried, in terror. "Two are missing;
and two of the best — the Caesar and the Brutus."

I had hardly said the words when I realized the terrible
meaning of them. Until we came nobody suspected the money-
value of Dom Pio's collection. Caesar and Brutus were just the
two coins we had most noticed. Now they had been taken.
Luigi would not have been clever enough to select those from
amongst the rest, neither would peasants, like the rustic now
before me, counting over his dirty little bank-notes. with horny
fingers. For my part, suspicion could hardly rest on me. I was
in bed when the priest had said his Mass — the period at which
his cell was left empty. Since then he and I had not parted
company. The glimpse of an atrocious possibility made me cry
aloud :

" No, no ; it is impossible ! "

I imagined Philip, after our yester-night's talk, tempted by
the nearness of this little treasure. The tramp of his feet, deep,
deep into the night, echoed in my mind with a sinister signifi-
cance. He had spoken so much, on our journey, of his need
of a small sum to give him a start in Paris. The sum had
been within his reach. He had struggled and struggled. He
had at length succumbed. He had actually committed this
theft. It was so easy a crime and so doubly odious — for the

314 A SAINT. [June,

poor old monk was our host. All that was necessary was to
get up a little before the hour of Mass ; to leave his room ; to-
slip into that of the priest. He knew which coins were best
worth having, and took them — doubtless with some more be-
sides. Afterwards he had gone off into the country. For one
thing, the walk would explain his morning's absence ; and againr
it would give him time to grow calm. There is a whole abyss
between talking in unprincipled paradoxes about conduct, and
doing such a shameless action. The odious possibility over-
whelmed me so thoroughly that my knees trembled under me,
and I had to sit down, while Dom Griffi, in his gentle way,
was saying to the peasant : " Wait for me in the corridor,
Beppe. I'll call you, my son."

When we were quite alone he began, in a tone I had not
till then heard him use — the priestly tone, instead of that of
the kind host : " Now, my child," and he held both my hands,
" look me full in the face. Don't you know perfectly well that
I feel it was not you ? That's all right ; don't speak ; don't ex-
plain anything. Just promise me one thing."

" I'll force the poor wretch to give you back the coins !
Yes, father, if I have to drag them from him by force, or give
him up to the police!"

He shook his head : " You don't take my meaning. Give
me your word of honor not to say one word that can lead to
a suspicion that the disappearance of the coins has been dis-
covered. Not a word, you understand, and not a sign. I have
the right, have I not, to ask this of you ? "

" I don't understand," I interrupted.

" Pazienza" he said, repeating his favorite word. " Just give
me your promise, and let me finish with my terrible Beppe.
Ah ! men like Beppe will be the death of me before I can wel-
come back the brethren ! They fight over every five francs of
their rent. But you know what one must do — close one's eyes
and commend one's self to the Almighty! You promise?"

" I promise," I said, conquered by a kind of authority which
went out from him at the moment.

" And please bring me the case at once."

" I will go now for it, father."

Notwithstanding my pledged word, I could hardly contain
myself when half an hour later I was with Philip, who had at
last returned from his walk. To his honor be it said, his face
told plainly of a troubled spirit. Had I had any doubt as to his
guilt, that face would have settled it. He ought, however, to

1896.] A SAINT. 315

have felt very safe in his secret, for it was by a mere chance
that I had looked into the casket again ; and no one else would
have missed the stolen coins. We had talked so rapidly Dom
Griffi would hardly have remembered their names. Thus it was
not the dread of discovery that threw over his intelligent brow
and bright eyes such a dark, uneasy expression. I felt that he
was simply torn by shame and remorse. In spite of his cynical
mask, he was still so young ! Though his mind was already
perverted, he had not outlived the early home influences ; and
he had been fed upon honesty, for was he not country-bred ?
Something sad in my way of looking at him must have struck
him ; but if he attributed my melancholy to the true cause,
the silence which I had promised to maintain must have re-
assured him.

" I had a splendid walk," he said, though I had not asked
him how he had spent his morning ; " but I lost my way, and
now I am too late to go over the abbey. Well, I don't much
care ! I half fear spoiling last night's impression by seeing the
frescoes by daylight. What time do we start ? "

"About half-past two," I said.

" Then, if you please, I'll go close my bag."

He thus found a pretext for going into his own room. I
heard him walking up and down, just as he had done the night
before. How would it be when he met the priest again ? I
looked forward with an uneasiness that amounted to actual pain
to the moment when, sitting once more at the novices' old
table, we three would be obliged to converse — the father and
I knowing what we knew, and Philip with this weight upon
his heart. Some curiosity was mixed with my uneasiness.
When Dom Griffi begged me to be silent, he had certainly
devised some plan of action.

Would he try to make the young man confess without hu-
miliating him too much ?

Or had he decided to pardon the culprit silently, calculat-
ing that what remained of Dom Pio's treasure would pay for
restoring that famous terrace ? (There was enough goodness
revealed by his faithful eyes to promise this course.)

In any case, breakfast-time came — the hours unfailingly fol-
low each other ! — and Dom Gabriele came to call us in the old
gay and cordial tones.

"So, Signer Filippo ! " he cried, "are you not hungry after
your walk? "

"No, father; I think I caught a cold."

316 A SAINT. [June,

The priest had taken Philip affectionately by both hands.
The kindly grasp seemed to embarrass the guest.

"Then you shall drink some of my 'holy wine,'" answered
the monk. "Do you know why we call it 'holy wine'? We
hang up the grapes to dry till Easter ; and then they go to
the wine-press. There is a Tuscan proverb : Nelf uva sono tre
vinaccioli (there are three pips in a grape), uno di sanita, uno di
letizia, ed uno di ubbriachezza (one for health, one for mirth, and
one for intoxication). But in my holy wine only the two first
are left."

And so he talked all the way through our meal, kindly and
merrily. We breakfasted on the promised trout, cooked chest-
nuts, an omelette with fried accompaniments, and thrushes —
those thrushes that have such a royal time of it in autumn in
this happy part of Italy — full-gorged with grapes and juniper
berries.

" I never could eat one of these little birds," said the priest.
" I see them flying about too near me here ! But our peasants
catch them with bird-lime. Have you never seen them go
by with a tame owl ? They lay sticks coated with bird-lime
the whole length of a vineyard. Then they place the owlet on
the ground, tied to another stick. It flutters here and there.
Other birds come near out of curiosity. They have but to
touch the rods and they are caught. I have always wondered
why no poet ever make a fable out of this pretty picture."

But never an allusion to the lost coins ! Never a word,
either, to show that he made any difference between his treat-
ment "of me and of my companion. If 'anything, he was a little
more caressing in manner towards Philip, who seemed crushed
by the affectionate attentions of our treacherously-used enter-
tainer. Twenty times I saw tears glitter in the youth's eyes.
Evidently he was not born to be a rogue. Twenty times I was
on the point of saying : " Come, now, beg this good priest's
pardon ! Let there be an end of this ! "

But Philip would expand his nostrils and contract his brows;
Pride's fires dried his eyes, and the conversation continued ; or
rather, Dom Griffi's monologue went on. He was comparing
Monte Chiaro with Monte Oliveto, and spoke tenderly of his
dear friend — my friend also — the good monk who filled there a
guardian's office, like his own. Afterwards he told us all sorts
of anecdotes about his abbey, some of them deeply interesting ;
as, for instance, one about a visit of the Constable de Bourbon
when marching upon Rome, and of his secretly bespeaking a

1896.] A SAINT. 31?

Mass for the day after his death ; and others were childlike
stories about artless legends. We had "finished breakfast, and
were back again in our quarters, before I understood his plan.
None but a father-confessor could have seen deep enough into
the human heart to form such a design. He had left us a few
moments when he returned with Dom Pio's casket in his hands.
I looked at Philip. He was livid. But the wrinkled face of
our host did not threaten any severe cross-examination.

"You taught me the worth of these coins," he said simply,
pushing the box across the table. "There are a great many
more than I want for repairs. Allow me to ask you each to
choose two or three of them. They will serve for a remembrance
of the old monk who prayed for both of you this morning."

He looked at me as he spoke, and I could read in his glance
a reminder of my promise. He went out and we remained
there, Philip Dubois and I, motionless. I trembled lest he
should guess that I knew his secret. Dom Griffi's sublime mag-
nanimity— which was about to produce repentance that was
crushing and overwhelming in proportion to the terrible shame
involved — could only work its full effect upon this soul in dis-
tress through the bitterness of a wounded self-esteem.

Just to break the silence I said: "What a grand thing a
good priest is ! "

Philip made no answer. He had turned towards the window
and was gazing, in a deep reverie, at the green landscape that
we had admired, the evening before, on our arrival. In obedi-
ence to our host's wishes I had opened the casket, and had
taken, at a venture, the first that came of the coins ; and then
I went into my own room. My heart beat loudly. I heard
the youth run out of the sitting-room, and his steps went quickly,
quickly towards the monk's cell. The proud spirit was humbled.
He was going to give up the stolen coins and confess his crime.
How did he bear himself towards him whom he had at first so
insolently compared to the old comic actor?

How did the monk reply ?

I shall never know.

But when we were both in the carriage, and Pasquale had
said to his mare, " Now then, Zara, show your paces ! " I turned
for another glance at the abbey we were leaving, and to bow
once more to the venerable priest, and I saw, in the look that my
companion bent on the simple monk, the dawn of a neiv soul,

No, the age of miracles is not past. But, for miracles, we
must have saints ; and these are all too rare.
VOL. LXIII. — 21

318 THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS. [June,

THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS.

BY B. MORGAN.

N a recent article in THE CATHOLIC WORLD* the
fact is stated, and illustrated by two lamentable
examples, that during the present century "the
Muscovite dominion has menaced the peace of
the church as well as the peace of Europe."
Since the article appeared an event has occurred which not only
emphasizes the statement, but opens up a vista of gloomy pos-
sibilities for the future of Catholicity wherever it comes into
contact with Russian influence.

For more than a year past vague rumors have been venti-
lated, from time to time, in the European press that Prince
Boris, the elder son of Ferdinand I. and heir-apparent to the
Bulgarian throne, was to be " converted " from the Catholic to
the Eastern schismatic church. Catholics generally, and, as we
now learn from the Osservatore Romano, the Holy Father him-
self, were for a long time disinclined to attach much impor-
tance to the report. Their scepticism was apparently justified by
the purely speculative character of much of the news continu-
ally being circulated concerning the Eastern question, but more
especially by the fact that both the child's parents are Catholics.
Nine years ago, when Ferdinand of Coburg was called by
the enthusiastic choice of the people, under the vigorous initia-
tive of the ill-fated Stamboloff, to the principality of Bulgaria,
left vacant by the abdication of Prince Alexander of Battenberg,
his name was in the world's mouth as a brilliant, courageous,
sympathetic young prince in whose hands the national indepen-
dence and development of Bulgaria were perfectly safe. From
the beginning the European powers were quite ready to recog-
nize his election. Russia alone evidenced a distinct disinclina-
tion to abide by the Bulgarians' decision, and Russia's abstention
was ample reason for the sultan to. withhold his official sanction.
Had the Muscovite policy promised to be one of mere ab-
stention the national government might have pursued its path
in peace, but it soon became evident that Prince Ferdinand
and his advisers must be prepared to brunt the ill-concealed
hostility of the czar. The country soon became honeycombed

* January, 1896, "A Century of Catholicity."

1896.]

THE " CONVERSION " OF PRINCE BORIS.

with Russian spies, the officials of church and state were bribed
with Russian gold and seduced by Russian influence, and Ferdi-
nand was unsparingly denounced as an usurper by the Russian
press. Various reasons for this unrelenting rancor were alleged
by the correspondents of the European papers, .but the govern-

PRINCE FERDINAND OF COB^RG, OF BULGARIA, AND HIS SON PRINCE BORIS.

ment of the czar preserved a sphinx-like silence as to the real
cause until it had fully taken the measure of the man with
whom it had to deal. Then Ferdinand was informed that the
price of Russian friendship for himself and Bulgaria was the
removal of Stamboloff — the man who had drawn order out of

320 THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS. [June,

chaos, and who was regarded as the most powerful promoter
of Bulgarian nationality. Stamboloff was removed, effectually
enough, by dastardly assassins, and the name of the prince who
entered on his career eight years before with such golden pro-
mise has been linked, wrongly let us hope, with a suspicion of
at least tacit connivance in the murder of the man who had
seated him on his throne.

Assuredly it was a bitter, a grievous price to pay, but the elu-
sive friendship was not yet gained. There was another condition
still left unfulfilled. The Bulgarian prince and the European cor-
respondents had apparently overlooked or forgotten a little in-
cident which occurred two years previously when the prince's mar-
riage called legislative attention to the question of the succession.

Ferdinand and his wife being Catholics, the Bulgarian gov-
ernment frankly accepted the conclusion that the offspring of
the union were to be brought up in their parents' faith — a con-
clusion rendered inevitable, to all seeming, by Ferdinand's openly
expressed determination and his solemn promise to his betrothed,
Louise of Parma, before the marriage. It became necessary,
therefore, to repeal Article 38 of the Constitution of Tirnovo,
which guaranteed that the princely house should belong to the
orthodox church. The Sobranje (the Bulgarian parliament)
had entered upon its deliberations on the matter when a com-
munique was received from the czar's government, on February
21, 1893, reminding the Bulgarians that they owed their eman-
cipation to Russia, that the orthodox faith was a surety for
the " spiritual ties uniting indissolubly Russia and Bulgaria,"
and warning "all Bulgarians, without distinction of party, of the
danger threatening a nation which was ready to renounce its
most sacred and ancient traditions."

In the light of recent history he who runs may read the
sinister significance of this imperial message. It was disre-
garded at the time. Prince Boris was born in February, 1894,
and another son the following year, both being duly baptized
according to the Latin Catholic rite. Stamboloff's ''removal"
was now on the tapis, and the czar's interest in the religious
communion of the Bulgarian children suffered an eclipse. Shortly,
however, after the first event in the Rjussian programme we be-
gin to be conscious that the vague rumors mentioned at the
beginning of this article have been floating about. As time
goes on they gather in volume and coherency, and eventually
it becomes known that Prince Ferdinand is about to visit Rome
to see the Pope on the subject.

1896.] THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS. 321

It would be amusing to the Catholic reader, were not the
whole subject so painful, to follow the sagacious surmises of the
non-Catholic "special correspondents" for the European press
concerning the probable motive and outcome of this visit.
Some of them brilliantly guessed that Ferdinand's object was
to obtain the Pope's permission for the little prince's "conver-
sion " to the Bulgarian Uniate rite, which is in communion with
Rome, in blissful ignorance that such a conversion would be
infinitely more objectionable to the czar than the status quo of
Latin Catholicity. Most of the scribes, however, were aware
that the prince desired the Pope's approval for his son's ad-
mission into the orthodox faith, but gravely "doubted whether
it was likely," or "thought it improbable," that" the Holy Father
would acquiesce — "at least positively." But if we feel a half-
amused pity for the usual, and perhaps hopeless, blunders of
Protestant writers when discussing even the a b c of Vatican
policy, what must our feelings be for the wretched prince who,
Catholic as he was, could approach the Holy Father on such
a preposterous errand ? Hitherto apostates had renounced their
faith ostensibly for the sake of conscience and truth, but here
was a man bartering his son's innocent soul for material advan-
tage— avowedly bartering it, and asking the Vicar of Christ to
sanction the unholy traffic ! Forsooth !

The prince left Rome a sadder but not a wiser man, and
immediately on his return announced to the Sobranje his inten-
tion of handing poor little Boris over to schism. A telegram
was immediately sent to the czar acquainting him with the
decision and requesting his imperial majesty to stand sponsor
for the child in the approaching ceremony. The answer was
not long in coming nor ambiguous in its text ; it warmly con-
gratulated the prince " on his patriotic resolution " and gracious-
ly acceded to the request.

On February 10 Ferdinand, in reply to an address from the
Sobranje, declared that " he had made a sacrifice for the father-
land so great, so cruel, and striking so deeply into his heart as
to find no parallel in history. He had given his own child as
a pledge for the welfare and happiness of Bulgaria, and had
thus loosened all family ties — broken all the ties which bound
him to the West. In return (for the barter will out) he de-
manded from the Bulgarian people, not noisy receptions and
hypocritical homage but respect for and confidence in his per-
son." He might have added to his speech, without adding to
the general information — "and the recognition by Russia of my

322

THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS.

[June,

own position." Truly history would not be adorned by parallels
of this description !

Four days later, on the feast of the Purification, the "con-
version " was solemnized. Little Boris was confirmed according
to the schismatic rite, a Russian general (significantly enough)
standing proxy for the imperial godfather. Prince Ouhtomosky,
one of the most influential of Russian journalists, and of course

himself a schisma-
tic, describes the
ceremony as " a
mockery of relig-
ion and a blasphe-
mous misuse of
sacred things for
the purposes of
personal ambition
and to mask a po-
litical trick," and
we may be content
to let it pass at
that. The one
consoling feature
about the whole
sad business is the
conduct of the
princess. Like the
noble woman and
true Catholic mo-
ther she is, she
struggled and
prayed, while there
was hope, for the
faith of her first-
born, and then,
finding her efforts
unavailing to pre-
vent the issue, left the country with her second child. The
wretched father is surely welcome to what comfort he can take
in the smiles of czar and sultan. The Bulgarian Slavonic Society,
notorious for the last eight years throughout South-eastern
Europe as the centre of all the intrigues carried on against the
principality, was among the first to congratulate the prince on ob-
taining Russian protection for Bulgaria, and to " humbly thank his
majesty for again taking Bulgaria under his mighty protection."

PRINCE BORIS, HEIR-APPARENT TO THE THRONE OF BULGARIA.

1896.] THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS. 323

But Ferdinand had not made his "sacrifice for the father-
land" for the sake of empty congratulations. Within twenty-
four hours of the ceremony at Sofia the news was announced
that the sultan, with the approval of the czar, was prepared to
accept the Coburgian dynasty, and on February 19 the accept-
ance was formally published.

The foregoing facts, we take it, prove one thing to demon-
stration, viz.: that the Russian government strongly objects to
a Catholic dynasty for Bulgaria. But why ? And what are the
probable consequences of the successful enforcement of this
objection? A brief glimpse into the salient features in the
national and religious history of the Bulgarian people will, we
think, give a solution to both questions.

During the fifth century we hear for the first time of the
Bulgarians, a mixed race of Hungarians and Slavs, as settling
at the mouth of the Danube. Four centuries later their king,
Bogoris, was converted, with the entire nation, by the great
apostles of the Slavs, Sts. Cyril and Methodius, who, it is inter-
esting to note en passant, at this early age became the fathers
of Bulgarian literature by the composition of what is known a?
the Cyrilian alphabet and the translation of the Holy Scriptures
into the vernacular. The patriarchal See of Constantinople
was then in union with the Apostolic See of Rome. The
Bulgarians were therefore Catholics, and we find, as we might
have expected, that their first Christian king at once put him-
self into relationship with the Father of Christendom. He
despatched ambassadors to Rome to beg the Holy Father to
send Latin bishops to his country, and to ask for the solution
of certain cases of conscience -which exercised him. Pope
Nicholas answered Bogoris in a decretal which has since be-
come celebrated, and acceded to the king's prayer by sending a
Latin bishop, with some missionaries, to further the interests of
the faith in Bulgaria.

Unhappily it was precisely at this juncture that Photius, the
patriarch of Constantinople, broke with Rome and inaugurated
the great schism of the East. The Bulgarians, still young in
the faith, naturally fell under the influence of the patriarchal
see, and thus followed Constantinople into the deplorable
defection. In a generation or so the heresy of the Bogomilae
bred intestine strife, and produced a national weakness which
culminated in 968 in the destruction of their autonomy.
Curiously enough, their first vanquishers were a horde of
Russians, egged on by the Greek emperor, Nicephorus Phocas.

A new Bulgarian kingdom was established in Macedonia

324 THE " CONVERSION " OF PRINCE BORIS. [June,

and Servia, but this too was ruthlessly destroyed by Basil II.,
another of the Greek emperors.

The third kingdom was founded in 1186, and lasted, under
the rule of five successive kings, until 1393, when the last of
them was defeated and put to death by the Turkish sultan
Bajazid I. From that date until the year 1878, when the treaty
of Berlin declared their political independence, the Bulgarians
remained under the immediate dominion of the Turkish Empire.

Meanwhile two centuries of schism had proved to them
that the patriarchate of Constantinople could be a hard task-
master, and in the reign of Joannice, the third and best king
of their third kingdom, the whole people again recognized the
spiritual supremacy of the Church of Rome. A second time
the Mother of Churches was doomed to be robbed of a whole
people. Without rhyme or reason, and in direct violation of
the pope's expressed wishes, Baldwin, the Latin emperor of
Constantinople, declared war on Joannice. The war was
deservedly unsuccessful, but it unhappily constituted the cause
of the relapse into schism of Joannice and his people, and
engendered a bitterness against Rome which has taken centuries
to obliterate.

From the beginning of the fifteenth century almost down
to our own days the hapless Bulgarians have been galled by a
double yoke, the Turkish in politics and the Greek in religion ;
of the two the latter was perhaps the more grievous, since their
religious task-master abused their subjection to the Turk to
treat them as a conquered people and denationalize them as
far as possible. Greek bishops were imposed on them whose
sole object in life seemed to be to wring money from their
pockets, and their spirit as a people from their hearts. They
were forbidden the use of the Slav language in the liturgy and
of the Bulgarian in the schools, so that up to the middle of
the present century the people remained in an almost incredi-
ble state of abasement.

The Crimean War, in 1854, was the clarion-call of new life
to the various Christian peoples living under the sway of the
Turk. The Bulgarians especially felt the spirit of freedom
flow within them, and with a bold and united front pressed
the amelioration of their religious grievances on the patriarch.
They demanded bishops of their own nationality, together with
a Slav liturgy and a Bulgarian school. Their demands being
rejected, they resolved to shake off once and for ever the yoke
of Phanar, and for the second time in their schismatic existence
their faces were turned longingly Romewards, though their aspira-

i896.]

THE " CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS.

325

of Panslavism,
a potent barrier

tions were doubtless prompted by a national impulse rather
than by religious feeling.

Still, if their motives began poorly, they might evolve into
something higher in time, and meantime the political conse-
quences of the nascent movement towards the great church of
the West bade fair to be of vast importance. Had the five or
six millions of Bulgarians boldly thrown aside their schism and
wedded their growing spirit of freedom with the Catholic
Church, those " spiritual ties uniting indissolubly Russia and
Bulgaria " had disappeared for ever, and their disappearance, as
Said Pasha declared twenty years afterwards, meant the ruin of
Panslavism and a prac-
tical solution of the East-
ern question. Situated
between the Danube and
Constantinople, a free
and independent nation
of six million Bulgarians,
deaf to the delusive shib-
boleth
formed

against the czar's path
to that capital.

Rome in her unerring
•wisdom saw the golden
opportunity and wel-
comed it ; Russia, with
the diplomatic genius
which is stamped on
every page of her modern
history, perceived the
danger and took precau-
tions to avert it. The story of the movement, perhaps the
most dramatic of our time, is but little known, and is indis-
pensable for a correct appreciation of the significance of the
forced perve'rsion of Prince Boris. The two incidents are links
in the same chain.

Clearly, a consideration of great importance for the success
of Bulgarian Catholicity was to secure the active co-operation
of Catholic France against the anticipated opposition of Russia
— indeed it may be said that such co-operation would have
been an almost certain guarantee of triumph for the movement.
Unhappily, the misfortune which has dogged every attempt at
Bulgarian union with Rome again showed itself. French inter-

METROPOLITAN CLEMENT, THE HEAD OF THE BUL-
GARIAN DEPUTATION IN ST. PETERSBURG.

326 THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS. [June,

ests in the Orient were at the time in the hands of M. Rou-
venel, an unsympathetic free-thinker, who took no interest in
Bulgarian autonomy and failed to grasp the full significance of
the appeal addressed to him. The Bulgarians were perforce
compelled to rely on their own unaided resources and the
moral encouragement of Rome.

France's refusal was really a death-blow to the movement,
but an attempt was valiantly made to dispense with all extrane-
ous assistance. The new Catholic rite, to be known as the
Bulgarian Uniate, was authorized, and Joseph Sokolski, one of
the new Uniate priests, was chosen bishop and consecrated in
Rome, in 1861, by Pius IX. In spite of the opposition of
Russia, the Porte immediately gave formal recognition to the
new community and conferred the imperial bcrat on Mon-
seigneur Sokolski. Within a month 60,000 Bulgarians had
entered the new community, and everything seemed to indicate
that the Bulgarian nation was about to become Catholic en
masse when a mysterious blight appeared in this new field of
the church.

Disquieting rumors concerning the bishop began to gain
currency. It was whispered that Russian agents and spies were
incessantly at work around him. In another month the extra-
ordinary news was published that Monseigneur Sokolski had
disappeared, and a few days later it became known that he
had been seen leaving the Russian embassy by night and em-
barking for Odessa. The remainder of his life was passed in
a monastery at Kiev, where no Bulgarians were permitted
to approach him. How he was worked upon to abandon his
cause and his people will, perhaps, never be known ; but his
defection was fatal to the immediate success of Bulgarian Cath-
olicity. The numbers of the Uniates dropped suddenly from
60,000 to 4,500.

The people, dismayed by the loss of their chief, and deter-
mined at all hazards not to fall again under the Greek bondage,
made a successful application to the sultan for recognition as
an independent branch of the Eastern Church under the title of
" The Bulgarian Exarchate." The schismatic patriarch of Con-
stantinople, and all the orthodox patriarchs except Jerusalem,
promptly excommunicated the new exarch, but the Russian gov-
ernment was quite satisfied that the " ties of orthodoxy " were
unbroken, and at once set about purchasing the friendship of
the exarchate by defending it liberally with gold and influence
against its enemies.

1896.] THE "CONVERSION" OF PRINCE BORIS, '327

In 1865, when Raphael Popoff was chosen to succeed Mon-
seigneur Sokolski, the shattered Uniates were apparently be-
neath the czar's contempt. Two years later, however, Monseig-
neur Popoff's little flock had doubled ; and devoted bands of
Lazarists, Resurrectionists, and Augustinians had begun to es-
tablish missions and open schools for the scattered members of
the rite throughout the country. The increase since then has
flowed in a strong, steady current until the Catholic Bulgarians
to-day number, probably, 8o,ooc — the great majority of whom
belong to the Uniate rite. It is no straining into prophecy to
assert that such a marked tendency towards Catholicism in the
face of difficulties of all kinds would soon burst into an actual
torrent were a popular native prince of the Catholic faith and
Bulgarian Uniate rite to be set at the head of the nation. Ob-
viously Russian influence would find itself checkmated in such
a contingency. Hence the necessity for the " conversion " of
Prince Boris ; hence, too, a definitely expressed policy of Rus-
sia to eat her way towards Constantinople by buying up the
schismatic churches and employing every species of intrigue
against Catholicity, when it stands in her path.

As Catholics we have no concern with the purely political
aspect of the question as to who shall sit in the halls of the
Sick Man when he is no more, but looking at it from a reli-
gious point of view we must hope and pray, for the sake of
the church, that it may not be the Muscovite. Its possession,
as is well known, has been his dream since the days of Peter
the Great. If the dream ever come true — and never, it must
be confessed, did it look more likely than at present — it will
mean a modern restoration of the Byzantine Empire ; the dis-
placement of European equilibrium ; and, what directly concerns
us now, the ultimate ruin of Catholicity in the Orient. During
the present century the Muscovite has had dealings with the
Catholic Church in Russia, Poland, and Bulgaria. In Russia, a
flourishing community of Ruthenian Uniates, numbering 650,000,
has been blotted out of official existence, so that to-day its
scattered members number less than 100,000; in Poland the
Catholics, up to the death of the late czar, were being hurried
out of existence, and we have just seen how Russia has nipped
a great future for Catholicity in Bulgaria.

Absit omen !

ALFRED LORD TENNYSON.

TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE.

BY P. CAMERON, D.C.L.

HERE lingers yet in the gardens of poetry, in
one walk or another, some little aroma of the
long-gone ages of chivalry ; ages yielding to
our fairer sisters much of a graceful courtesy,
and that from the hands of men rough in ex-
terior, with the sword ever girded on the thigh, and brave to a
fault. Sentiment was then in the ascendant, linked to a faith
which if unbounded yet was sincere, and which grasped the
sword-handle (invariably resembling the holy Cross) of a sword
ready to defend the oppressed or smite the Eastern infidel in
a holy crusade — and in the sands of whose far-off lands the

1895.] TEATNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. 329

planted sword became a sacred symbol to the mail-clad knight
at his orisons. Many a sincere prayer ascended under the blue
sky of Palestine to Christ and his Mother from the lips of the
shield-bearing warrior.

There have been many great poets, but of whom can it be
said, as is true of the author of the " Idyls," that his works
all have a good moral — nay, a religious bearing — and that no
one idea is meretricious or doubtful in purity. As was said,
Scott's works have no moral weight, and the talented Byron
was, in spite of his mighty genius, distinctly immoral and evil
in his works. We place only these three poetical giants in our
view, in this particular connection.

Scott shows us that, like Tennyson, he admired the middle
ages — none knew them more thoroughly. It seems to require a
peculiar receptivity of mind, embracing an element of love and
devotion, to become imbued with the ideas of the days of yore
— days the antitheses of the nineteenth century, with its steam,
electricity, and hurry ; the repose is gone from us, and a
feverish living is with us. In Scott we have many a knightly
scene, but none of the exquisite refinements of Tennyson's pen
— a pen which, if it pictured in dark colors the sin of the
erring one, yet called on us to hope for better, and to watch
the penitent, guilty yet groping his or her way, through
prayers and penance, to a better life. It was his delight to
lift up poor humanity, bleeding and bruised, if it lay near him.
If the Queen sinned, the Queen repented ; if Lancelot erred,
yet Lancelot at the end died a holy man. t

Tennyson believed in the necessity of penance ; doing a
something practical and outside the horizon of a Geneva-born,
mere mentality of esoteric penitence. He saw the necessity of
good works as well as pious ejaculations, and of bitter tasks
which the sinner had to perform at the bidding of his spiritual
advisers. Who but a holder of such views could picture as he
St. Simeon Stylites, where the hermit says :

" For not alone this pillar-punishment —
Not this alone I bore : but while I lived
In the white convent, down the valley there,
For many weeks about my loins I wore
The rope that haled the buckets from the well,
Twisted as tight as I could knot the noose,
. . . until the ulcer, eating thro' my skin,
Betray'd my secret penance, so that all
My brethren marvell'd greatly."

330 TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. [June,

Or follow the holy Nun in the convent in his "St. Agnes'
Eve " :

" Deep on the convent roof the snows

Are sparkling to the moon ;
My breath to heaven, like vapor, goes :

May my soul follow soon !
The shadows of the convent towers

Slant down the snowy sward,
Still creeping with the creeping hours
That lead me to my Lord.
. . For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits,
To make me pure of sin."

Again, in "The Passing of Arthur," where the King says:

"... But thou—

If thou shouldst never see my face again,
Pray for my soul ! More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats,
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend ?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God."

We could cite more to the same effect, but for brevity's
sake refrain, only asking attention, when the time shall come,
to the words of supplication from the heart-broken wife of
King Arthur at the convent gates.

Poetry every refined mind must love, npt only for its beauty
and softness but its veracity, as the great Catholic writer,
W. S. Lilly, reminds us (as in Plato's profound remark) when
he says, " Poetry comes nearer vital truth than does history."
It is older than prose : the two oldest books, the Bible and
Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, are mines of poetry ; the Rig-
Vedas of India are full of it. Of the great poets it is strictly
true, " Poeta nascitur non fit."

Tennyson was the greatest thinker in poetry England ever
had, or perhaps the world ever saw or will see again. A visi-
tor to him tells us that nothing could excel the effect of his
rendition of the Idyl of Guinevere (now particularly to be
spoken of), his voice tremulous with emotion as he read " Let

1896.] TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. 331

no man dream but that I love thee still " (addressed to the
Queen by her Royal Consort as she wept at his feet in con-
ventual walls), and all the noble context glowing with a white
heat. He, alluding to his own death, wishes

"Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me ;
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea."

Edwin Arnold, after the great poet died, exclaims:

" No moaning of the bar ! Sail forth, strong ship,
Into that gloom which has God's face for a far light :
Lamping thy tuneful soul to that large moon
Where thou shalt quire with angels. Words of woe
Are for the unfulfilled — not thee ; whose moon
Of genius sinks full orbed — glorious — aglow —
Death's soft wind all thy gallant canvas lifting,
And Christ, thy Pilot, to the peace to be ! "

The love of poetry attended Tennyson in his last hours.
He asked for " Cymbeline," that he might carry the noble
thought of its lines while memory lingered in the shadow of
Death's valley :

" Fear no more the heat of the sun,

Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone — and ta'en thy wages."

As Mr. Waugh says, " The Idyls are of a deep-mouthed
music, which is even Homeric."

Poetry is older, as was said, than Prose. Before man
formed a written or graven character the history, deeds, and
the pictured thoughts of great men were entrusted to the
memory of bards — singers and minstrels — the traditions of the
aged went from the pious death-bed to the listening friends.
The hearts of nations registered themselves on the rolls of
the singer's memory, and chiefly in the middle ages did their
songs keep alight the fires of an enthusiasm doomed without
such an aid to ruin, decay, and death. Knights and ladies got
by heart these songs, and often, amid the gloomy walls of
the strong castle, sang them afresh to their sons and daugh-
ters.

332 TENATYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. [June,

The sweet singer of Israel, and the triumphant notes of
Biblical Deborah, had long given examples.

Whether a Homer ever lived or a Troy ever fell, or a beauty
as false as Helen ever deceived, is of as little consequence as
an inquiry whether a queen like our Guinevere was false to a
large-souled hero like Arthur, with his Knights of the Round
Table. The beauty of imagery is held to our eyes, whether in
the sweet-sounding Greek or the refined elegance of the Ten-
nysonian Anglo-Saxon tongue ; be it our pleasure to taste the
honey with grateful lips. It may, we hope, prove a pleasure
to our readers, as intense as to us, to turn for once from the
din and the strife and the whirl of life to-day, with its too
often "cold gray light," to the scenes that are gone, and yet
so skilfully painted as to carry ourselves, and we hope our
indulgent readers, to where " the time was Maytime, and
as yet no sin was dreamed," while Arthur's ambassador (Lan-
celot) was leading the affianced Guinevere to the King's camp,
and where,

"... far ahead of his and her retinue moving,
They, rapt in sweet talk or lively, all on love
And sport and tilts and pleasures, for the time rode
Under groves that looked a paradise
Of blossom, over sheets of hyacinth."

Practical and utilitarian as the century forces us by its
crushings to be, human nature all along the lines is ever the
same, and we with the Greeks admire beauty, but with the old
Romans prefer integrity ; but to us has it come, as Cardinal
Gibbons insists in his "Christian Heritage," that the mild rays
of Christianity have softened the heart to the wail of the
penitent and the suffering, and of these the Idyl in view gives
us piccures vivid enough to bring down the tear for the unfor-
tunate girl-queen.

Among the legendary heroes of chivalry none shone out as
did Arthur of England. With his Knights of the Round Table
our youth has a close acquaintance. Pure were they in life ;
brave to redress wrongs ; upholders of the ladies of their choice,
both as to fame and beauty ; and above all simple believers in
their fair father Christ, and earnestly devoted to their Mother
Church — the one Catholic and Undivided and Universal ; there
were no wretchedly isolated, sectarianisms of that day; all Eng-
land worshipped at the one shrine.

The Round Table (see " the Holy Grail "), suggested by the

1896.] TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE, 333

movements of the Great Bear around the Pole-star, was not
uncommon in feudal times, and Tennyson on this —

" . . . Then came a night

Still, as the day was loud ; and through the gap
The seven clear stars of Arthur's Table Round —
For brother, so one night, because they roll
Thro' such a round in heaven, we named the stars,
Rejoicing in ourselves and in our king."

Here they assembled in common friendship, all brothers in
arms, all loyally devoted to the presiding Arthur.

Each, no doubt, recounted his experiences ; each sword was
ready for the command of the sovereign to wage battle or
rescue the distressed ; many a song of romance ascended to the
old rafters, and when pleasure was done many a heart-felt
orison ascended from knightly stalls in the sacred chapel, where
the prayers and blessings of the officiating chaplain went
heavenward amidst the smoke of offered incense. Simple faith,
clear honor, and brave hearts were there.

Little did they think what was coming ! Even Lancelot, the
next in rank to Arthur, while in pursuit of the " Holy Grail,"
was unable to forget the lovely but frail Guinevere. Holy and
unholy passions were to grapple, and the worst was for awhile
the victor.

The Idyl is simply a romance sung in poetry. All of the
companions were as one, till another " Helen of Troy," with
all her dangerous beauty and her "golden hair," came on the
scene.

It is the old, old story. Given an Eve, there looms up a
tempter. Arthur, though knightly in honor and pure in
thought, was cold in his integrity, calm in exterior, while
Lancelot, who as we shall see was chosen by him to bring the
affianced girl to the royal demesne, was, on the contrary,
though honorable, yet gay. The King was "that pure severity
of perfect light," while "she wanted warmth and color, which
she found in Lancelot." Both chivalrous and brave, yet in the
blind confidence of a man ignorant as to such dangers, he
sends a loving, warm one like Lancelot on such a message. He
is in error, an error which brings ruin all round.

They rode long together, as we said, but when

" The Queen, immersed in such a trance,
And moving thrqugh the past unconsciously,

VOL. LXIII.— 22

334 TEATNYSOA7's IDYL OF GUINEVEXE. [June,

Came to that point where first she saw the King
Ride towards her from the city — sighed to find
Her journey done ! glanced at him — thought him cold,
High, self-contained, and passionless ; not like him,
Not like my Lancelot."

These are the memories we shall come to as they
trooped through her, meditating on the guilty past, in the
sacred walls of the Almesbury convent. The Queen has never
seen Arthur face to face previous to Lancelot's embassy, and
naturally takes the ambassador for the king, allowing his fair
exterior to get to her heart — here, so far, she is guiltless ; the
fault to be committed is still in the future.

Lancelot allows this to go on, " and faith unfaithful keeps
them falsely true." A horrible character, a " Sir Modred," is
shown — a spy, a deformity like Shakspere's " Richard the
Hunchback," with " his evil eye," who fastens himself in the
path of Lancelot and the Queen, and hostile to Arthur —

" Couchant with his eyes upon the throne."

Plotting, ever plotting for the ruin of all three, and working
worm-like in the dark with all his slyness, the woman's instincts
warn her to beware of him ; and these, sharpened by the senti-
ment of love for Lancelot, mirror to her the black future
which evil Modred was weaving round her King, her Lancelot,
and last, and to her mind least important of all, herself.

Having outlined the story, we hope plainly enough to be
followed by those whom time has not allowed to peruse it, by
those who have forgotten it, or by those to whom it may be
more familiar, it is our pleasing duty to invite all to the rich
repast which the great master of poetry has furnished to the
world for all time, in the sublime strains of classical verse.

He gives us the Queen in the Holy House at Almesbury —
weeping, none with her save a little maid, a novice.

" One low light between them burned
Blurred by the creeping mist, for all abroad,
Beneath a moon unseen albeit at full,
The white mist, like a face-cloth to the face,
Clung to the dead earth, and the land was still.
For hither had she fled. Her cause of flight, Sir Modred."

Lancelot having caught the spy, " Sir Modred," in his
vile tricks, had chastised the worm. Told of what was done by
Lancelot, she laughs briskly and lightly : •

1896.] TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. 335

"Then shuddered, as the village wife who cries
' I shudder — some one steps across my grave.' "

Then laughed again — but faintlier, for indeed

" She half-foresaw that he, the subtle beast,
Would track her guilt until he found."

This stings her like an adder, vexing and plaguing her gay
life, and we are told that

. . . " Many a time for hours,
Beside the placid breathings of the King,
In the dead night, grim faces came and went
Before her ; ... or if she slept, she dreamed
An awful dream ; . . . and with a cry she woke."

And it went on and on —

" Till ev'n the clear face of the guiltless King,
And trustful courtesies of household life,
Became her bane ; and at the last she said,
' O Lancelot ! get thee hence to thine own land,
For if thou tarry we meet again ;
And if we meet again, some evil chance
Will make the smouldering scandal break and blaze
Before the people, and our lord the King.' '

Rumors, apparently not to her credit, were moving round
the court circle ; Lancelot's name and her own doubtless had
been joined ; and, at all events, the spy had caught her in
association with "a lissome Vivien" of her court, the wiliest
and the worst — bad news grows — and we have had the Queen's
thoughts of dismay as she showed them to her lover Lancelot ;
for such he now clearly is — she loves him, not her husband.

To this earnest appeal from a mind to which " coming
events were casting their shadows before " the gay Lancelot
" ever promised, but remained, and still they met and met."

Conscience and fear were not yet at rest ; they both tugged
at her heart-strings, and more fervent and urgent she appeals —

" O Lancelot ! if thou love me get thee hence."

They agree on a night, when Arthur would not be at court,
to have one long, last parting, and part for ever !

If Arthur had been a little more worldly-wise, a little less
self-contained, a little suspicious, what ruin could have been
averted; but such, alas! was not to be. They met —

336 TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVEXE. [June,

" Passion-pale they met and greeted —
Hands in hands, and eye to eye,
Low on the border of her couch they sat,
Stammering and staring. It was their last hour
A madness of farewells"

The spy is on them ; his creatures are with him for a witness —
"And crying with full voice,
' Traitor ! come out ; ye are trapped at last ! '
Aroused Lancelot."

He leaps on Modred, who is borne off, wounded, by his creatures.

"And all was still."

Then does Conscience lash with her scorpions over the royal
breast ; she realizes the abyss before them both —

" The end is come, and I am shamed for ever ! "
Let us pause. Sterne long ago pictured the Recording
Angel while, as duty- compelled, he enters on the book a sin
committed, at the same time blotting it out with a tear. We
feel like doing this for Lancelot as he answers,

" Mine be the shame ! Mine was the sin."

Unfortunately he stops not here, but plunges again in the old,
old way of vice. One wrong step leads as surely to another as
the laws of nature are sure. To cover what is gone is ever
present at a tempter's hand, even if it leads, as invariably it
will, to deeper depths of woe and sin ; and therefore he says

". . . But rise,

And fly to my strong castle over-seas.
There will I hide thee till my life shall end ;
There hold thee with my life against the world."

The dialogue is skilfully drawn : he urges flight ; she dwells
on herself as the cause of the trouble, shifting the blame alto-
gether from Lancelot :

" Mine is the shame — for I was wife, and thou unwedded"

At this crisis we rejoice to find her, though late, entering
upon the path that alone leads on to better if bitter days. She
seems at once to arise and wish to go to her Father in Heaven
with the cry of a prodigal of old, " Father, I have sinned against
Heaven and in thy sight." To Lancelot, ;

". . . Yet

Rise now. and let us fly ;
For I will draw me into sanctuary, and bide my doom," ,

1896.] TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. 337

is the cry of the heart-broken woman. They rode together on
their last journey — parting in tears — he back to his lands, but
she to Almesbury —

" Fled all night long, . . .
And in herself she moaned 'Too late! too late'!"

Flying from the wrath to come of an avenging God and an
outraged husband, hope seems to open the door, the only door,
of a mediaeval sanctuary, and to her this is the one gleam of
sunshine.

She by no means, when at the portals of the convent, lets
the holy sisters know who she really is — a queen and the wife
of the great Arthur.

" And when she came to Almesbury she spake
There to the nuns, and said, ' Mine enemies
Pursue me ; but, O peaceful sisterhood !
Receive and yield me sanctuary, nor ask
Her name to whom ye yield it — till her time
To tell you.' . . . And they spared to ask it."

Tennyson tells that she abode there a long while unknown,
mixing with no one, but communing only with the little maid,
the novice "who pleased her with her babbling heedlessness."

Even to the sacred retreat of these walls winged rumor flies
as to Sir Modred usurping Arthur's sceptre, and of the King
warring with Lancelot.

The prattling of the innocent child comes on, ignorant of
her hearer's name and rank. In agony the Queen begs of her to

" Sing, and unbind my heart that I may weep."

The fountain of tears is opened ; the maid consoles her, telling
" there is penance given. Comfort your sorrows, for they do
not flow from evil done ; right sure am I of that, who see
your tender grace and stateliness."

The little prattler, with kindest intent, wings to the heart a
shaft which must draw blood, when she exhorts her royal
listener:

" But weigh your sorrows with our lord the King's ;
And, weighing, find them less ; ... as even here
They talk at Almesbury about the good King
And his wicked Queen."

Perhaps in none of her sorrows was the heart so full as
now. The mirror held to her gaze by the innocence of child-
hood— of herself, the stately, the beautiful, the might-have-been

338 TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. [June,

proud consort of a king whose fame all England repeated ; and
to be told by a child that it was impossible for one who, in
the maid's eyes, stood out so grandly could by any chance be
guilty of a portion even of what conscience was throbbing out
stroke upon stroke, " Thou thyself art the woman ! " Death,
if sudden, would be incomparably better. She can bear it no

more.

"Will the child kill me with her foolish prate?"

is repeated to her heart only ; but aloud she exclaims,
" What and how can you, shut in by nunnery walls,
Know of kings and Tables Round, and signs and wonders?"

The maid explains how it was rumored that on Arthur's mar-
riage strange and awful things occurred, portents and signs,
that bards saw in visions, " that foresaid this evil work of Lance-
lot and the Queen."

Lancelot is depicted, as he seemed to the innocent maid, as
a vile traitor to the best of kings —

" The most disloyal friend in all the world."

Woman-like, Guinevere rushes to his rescue, and in the noble

nature of a true and tender piety exclaims :

" If ever Lancelot, that most noble knight,
Were for one hour less noble than himself,
Pray for him, that he 'scape the doom of fire ;
And weep for her who drew him to his doom."

Noble self-abnegation which takes to herself all the blame,
covering and shielding, with a misplaced though deep love, the
fault and sin of her companion.

But humanity can stand no more stabbing torture ; the'
Queen's storms of anger burst forth, and she commands the
maid to leave her.

Left alone, the work of introspection is begun : first the
gone beauty of the glimpse of Lancelot the ambassador; the
journey of both to the royal camp ; the talks of love, of chiv-
alry, of tournaments — all rapture to be killed by the first sight
of the "high, cold, passionless" Arthur.

" Not like my Lancelot."

"While she brooded thus and grew half-guilty
In her thoughts again,

There rode an armed warrior to the doors. . . .
Then on a sudden a cry ' the King ! '
She sat stiff-stricken, listening."

1896.] TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. 339

It was entirely forbidden for any man to enter within the
holy retreats, but by dispensation kings were excepted from
this rigid rule. Arthur evidently had traced her flight, and can-
not in the nobility of his nature refrain from once more, if
truly for the last time, seeing his beautiful but frail consort,
and bidding her a long, a last farewell.

The by-gone scenes to which her mind harked back vanish
at once when

"Thro' the long gallery from the outer doors

Rang armed feet coming."

She falls to the ground, grovelling, with abject penitence, to the
floor.

" There with her milk-white arms and shadowy hair
She made her face a darkness from the King."

A terrible silence ; then —

"A voice, monotonous and hollow like a Ghost's.

. .
Denouncing judgment. . . .

" Liest thou here? So low! — the child of onc^

c ^
I honored, happy, dead before thy shame ! ^

Well is it that no child is born of thee.

The children born of thee are sword and fire)-

Red ruin, and the breaking up of laws!"

He tells how he has come from a hostile engagement with
Lancelot ; of Modred's vile conspiracy against the throne ; of
the thinning to nearly nothing of his companions, Knights of
the Round Table, by death in battle — some, alas ! disloyally
going to Modred's camp ; yet in his grandeur of soul, though
only a remnant of warriors is with him —
" Of this remnant will I leave a part,
True men who love me still, for whom I live,
To guard thee in the wild hour coming on,
Lest but a hair of this low head be harmed.
Fear not ! Thou shalt be guarded till my death.
Thou hast not made my life so sweet to me
That I, the King, should greatly care to live ;
For thou hast spoiled the purpose of my life."

This is god-like, and exquisitely touching. He recites for
her the happy days he and his co-knights had spent before he
saw her ; how innocent their lives, how open their hearts each
to each, how valorous their deeds, how pure their escutcheons.

"And all this throve until I wedded thee!"

340 TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVEKE. [June,

Then opens out to her Lancelot's sin, her own sin with him,

the disloyalty of others his soldiers, till life is valueless to him
— a life

" I not greatly care to lose."

He tells her, perhaps for the first and only time, what he
ought long ago to have pictured out, of his great love for her :

" For think not, tho' thou would'st not love thy lord,
Thy lord hast wholly lost his love for thee :
I am not made of so slight elements.
Yet I must leave thee, woman, to thy shame ! "

Alas ! poor suffering Queen. Heaven was laying on the
rod with bitter strokes. Yet the chastisement, if heavy, was due ;
if in anger, it was righteous; it was necessary to taste the bitter
of repentance before the sweets of forgiveness. Penance most
mighty had still to be endured before the soul could be puri-
fied even for the new life.

The King pauses. In the pause she creeps nearer, and lays
her hands about his feet. But the trumpet is heard without
sounding " To horse ! " the charger neighs impatiently, and the
King must be gone — gone to the bloody field of battle. The
last words have to be spoken, and they are sublime in their
grandeur — too grand almost for even such a man as Arthur :

" Yet think not that I come to urge thy crimes.
I did not come to curse thee, Guinevere —
I, whose vast pity almost makes me die
To see thee, laying there thy golden head,
My pride in happier summers, at my feet.

And all is past ; the sin is sinned, and I—
Lo ! I forgive thee, as Eternal God forgives.
Do thou for thine own soul the rest. . . .
I cannot touch thy lips, they are not mine —
But Lancelot's ; nay, they never were the King's.
I cannot take thy hand — that too is flesh,
And in the flesh thou hast sinned.
My doom is, I love thee still.
Perchance — "

And here let us pause. In the weighty words he is shower-
ing down there is still lingering the kind Christian sentiment
of forgiveness ; and more, a pointing unto penance — to the
Cross of our great Saviour —

1896.] TEATNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. 341

"And so thou purify thy soul,
And so thou lean on our fair father Christ,
Hereafter in that world where all are pure
We two may meet before High God — and thou
Wilt spring to me, and claim me thine, and know
I am thine husband — not a smaller soul,
Nor Lancelot, nor another. Leave me that,
I charge thee, my last hope ! "

He speaks of his charges at the door; of his going to battle ;
death or some mysterious doom awaits him.

" And while she grovelled at his feet,
She felt the King's breath wander o'er her neck,
And, in the darkness o'er her fallen head,
Perceived the waving of his hands that blest."

Gone — the King ! She flies to the casement ; if, perchance,
she might see him once and not be seen !

The sad nuns, each with a torch, stood near him, and to
their tenderness he commits his Queen,

" To guard and foster her for evermore " ;

while mounted, "even then he turned." In remorseful agony
she speaks :

" Gone ! — gone, my lord :

Gone through my sin, to slay and to be slain !

And he forgave me, and I could not speak

Farewell ! I should have answered his farewell.

His mercy choked me ! . . . how dare I call him mine ?

The shadow of another cleaves to me,

And makes me one pollution ! "

Suicide (the suggestion in many a case like hers) looms up —
a suggestion of the tempter. She repels this by reasoning that,
no matter if she yielded to it, her fame, or ill-fame, would go
down the centuries —

"And mine will ever be a name of scorn."

A light from Heaven illumines, and a hope gleams in, that
she may live down the sin and be

"... His mate hereafter
In the heavens before High God."

Regrets of the past rush in :

" It was my duty to have loved the highest :
It surely was my profit had I known ;

342 TENNYSON'S IDYL OF GUINEVERE. [June,

It would have been my pleasure had I seen.
We needs must love the highest when we see it,
Not Lancelot — nor another ! "

To her now a weeping novice comes; then glancing up, she
sees the holy nuns shedding their tears of sympathy. Her
heart is loosed, and, weeping with them, she unveils herself as
the wicked one who has spoiled all the vast designs of her
king, her husband ; and in agony of repentant tears exclaims
her prayer to them, the holy sisters. This we must be par-
doned if we quote in full ; to shorten is to destroy its pitiful
beauty:

" So let me, if you do not shudder at me,
Nor shun to call me sister, dwell with you ;
Wear black and white, and be a nun like you ;
Fast with your fasts, not feasting with your feasts ;
Grieve with your griefs, not grieving at your joys,
But not rejoicing ; mingle with your rites ;
Pray and be prayed for ; lie before your shrines ;
Do each low office of your holy house ;
Walk your dim cloister, and distribute dole
To poor sick people, richer in His eyes
Who ransomed us, and haler too than I ;
And treat their loathsome hurts and heal mine own :
And so wear out in alms-deed and in prayer
The sombre close of that voluptuous day
Which wrought the ruin of my lord the King."
She said :

" They took her to themselves ; and she
Still hoping, fearing ' Is it yet too late ? '
Dwelt with them, till in time their abbess died.
Then she, for her good deeds and her pure life,
And for the power of ministration in her,
And likewise for the rank she bore,
Was chosen abbess — there, an abbess, lived .
For three brief years, and thence, an abbess,
Past to where beyond these voices there is peace."

LINCOLN CATHEDRAL AND CHAPTER-HOUSE. — EAST VIEW.

AN EXTINCT RELIGIOUS ORDER AND ITS
FOUNDER.

BY J. ARTHUR FLOYD.

the troublous period towards the close of the
reign of William the Conqueror, and when the
rapacious rule of his godless son and success-
or, the brutal Rufus, was soon to commence,
St. Gilbert of Sempringham, the founder of the
only purely English religious order, was born in the Lincoln-
shire village from which he takes his name. The exact date of
his birth is not known, although Alban Butler says he died
" on the 3d of February, 1190, being 106 years old"; this would
give 1084 as the year of his birth. A later writer, however,
in a history of St. Gilbert, Prior of Sempringham, published
under Tractarian auspices in 1844, gives the 4th of February,
1189, as the date of the saint's death, and says "he was above
a hundred years old when he died," and that the year of his
birth is not known. The principal source of information regard-
ing the saint is a manuscript life, by an unknown contemporary
writer, published in Dugdale's Monasticon from the original in
the British Museum. From these authorities we learn that St.
Gilbert was the son of Sir Jocelin of Sempringham, a Norman
knight whose services in the armies of " the Conqueror " had
been rewarded with estates in Lincolnshire which included the

344 AN EXTINCT RELIGIOUS ORDER [June,

villages of Sempringham and Tissington. He married the
daughter of a Saxon thane, and of that marriage St. Gilbert
was the sole issue.

In early life the saint appears to have been of a sickly con-
stitution, with no inclination for rough sports or manly exercises,
and his mental capacity poor. We may well suppose that such
a son would not please Sir Jocelin, who had lived in an atmos-
phere of war, and had carved out his own fortune with the
sword. It was, too, the age of the Crusades, a movement, preg-
nant with true charity and a simple, earnest faith, that had
brought out the chivalry of the period in a guise even more
noble than it usually bore.

A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH.

A change came over Gilbert, or it may be his dulness had
been more apparent than real. He began to study; and at last
entered what was at that time the most flourishing school in
Europe, and which at the beginning of the next century de-
veloped into one of the earliest of the European universities —
that of Paris. Unfortunately Sir Jocelin's little regard for his
son showed itself in an ill-supplied purse which necessitated
great economy on Gilbert's part, and that, too, at a time when
the other English students were notorious for their prodigality.
However, he managed to keep his head above water, and made
up by industry for any lack of early training .or natural ability.
But few records of his Parisian career have come down to our own
time ; enough, however, remains to justify a very high estimate
of his character. " Amidst all the dangers which surrounded
him," says one writer, " by a severe purity he offered up his
body as a sacrifice to the Lord, and thus the grace of God
trained him for that work he was destined to perform in the
church." The " severe purity " of Gilbert's youth was never
sullied throughout his long life. The day came at last when
the hard-worked-for doctor's degree was won,- and, having also
obtained a license to teach, he returned to his Lincolnshire
home. He at once found that his newly-won honors had pro-
duced quite a revolution of feeling in his favor ; the contempt
and neglect of former days now gave place to a hearty welcome.
Even doughty old Sir Jocelin seemed not insensible of the dis-
tinction won by his son in the world of letters, though it is
more than probable he remained of opinion that the logic most
seemly for a gentleman's son to make himself proficient in was
such as could be driven home with a battle-axe.

1896.] AND ITS FOUNDED. 345

THE SYSTEM OF LAY IMPROPRIATION.

One source of income granted to Gilbert by his father at once
claims our notice. We refer to the donation of the livings of
Sempringham and Tissington, of which Sir Jocelin claimed the
advowson. Now, Gilbert was as yet unordained, and, at first
sight, it seems hardly consistent with the purposes for which
churches were founded and endowed that a layman should be
placed in possession of revenues provided for the maintenance
of priests and the service of the church. Such benefactions
were commonly made in favor of monastic orders, and usually
the transfer was advantageous to the church and parish, for the
monks were the school-masters of mediaeval Christendom, and
none were so well able to look after the welfare of the people
and to celebrate the Mass with becoming dignity and grandeur
as the regular clergy, well trained in liturgical observances, with
their vast resources and that freedom from self-interest which
their vows insured. It was also a law of the church of those
days that cathedral chapters should grant a benefice for the
maintenance of a school-master "because the Church of God,,
as a pious mother, is bound to provide for the poor, lest the
opportunity of reading and improving themselves be taken
away from them."

What has been said sufficiently justifies Gilbert's acceptance
of the two livings ; his freedom from any suspicion of cupidity
is evidenced by the fact that, after his installation by the
Bishop of Lincoln, he gave up entirely out of his own hands
the revenues from Tissington, and distributed amongst the poor
all that could be saved from Sempringham. He secured a
priest to serve the village church and to be his own chaplain ;
together they carried on the parochial work, and conducted
the school, which included young men and women, almost as
though they and their pupils were members of a monastic
order, with the result that it was soon said that a "parishioner
of Sempringham could at once be known from any other by
his reverential air on entering a church."

A DISTURBING ELEMENT.

One would naturally have supposed that under his improved
surroundings Gilbert would have been glad to make his home
in his father's comfortable hall. This, however, he did not do ;
together with his .chaplain he lived with one of the house-
holders in the village, both leading a life of great simplicity

346

AN EXTINCT RELIGIOUS ORDER

[June,

and devotion. A daughter of this Sempringham householder —
a fair, chaste maiden developing into womanhood — began to
cause some disquietude in the mind of Gilbert. Doubtless it
was his guardian angel who warned him in a dream of the
impending danger. At once he and the priest left the village
household, and, as the Church of St. Andrew at Sempringham
—like many of the old churches that have come down to our
times— was provided with one of those quaint rooms that were
then often built over one of the porches of the churches, they
took up their residence therein.

A PROTOTYPE OF WOLSEY. -

At or about the time of Gilbert's birth the episcopal throne
of Dorchester was removed to Lincoln by St. Remigius, who

LINCOLN CATHEDRAL — SOUTH-WEST FRONT. — THE NORMAN FACADE DATES BACK TO THE

TIME OF ST. GILBERT.

thus became the founder and first bishop of the latter see.
He died in 1092, and was succeeded by Robert Bloet, who had
been chancellor of England under Rufus, in whose reign he
was raised to the episcopate. In his latter days he fell under
the displeasure of Henry I., by whom he was stripped of
much of his wealth. It was he who had instituted Gilbert into
the livings to which his father had nominated him. After he

1896.] AND ITS FOUNDER. 347

had lost favor at court, and had, in consequence, more time to
devote to the cares of his see, the transformation effected in
Sempringham probably led him to wish that other parts of his
diocese should be subjected to the same good influence. Be this
as it may, we know that he sent for Gilbert, placed him in his
own household, and raised him to minor orders. Bishop Bloet,
at his decease in I [23, was succeeded by Alexander de Blois,
a prelate who, by his great generosity, had earned for himself
the name of •" Alexander the Benevolent." Unfortunately with
him, as with so many of the dignitaries of the church of those
days, the baron's sword too often usurped the place of the
bishop's crook, and his commendable taste for architecture as
frequently found expression in raising and fortifying castles —
nominally for the protection of the diocese — as in the building
of churches. Soon after the death of Bishop Bloet the cathe-
dral was in great part burnt down, and, to prevent a repetition
of a like disaster, Bishop Alexander had it rebuilt with an
arched stone roof. He is said to have uset his whole mind upon
adorning his new cathedral, which he made the most magnifi-
cent at that time in England." He quite shared his predeces-
sor's estimate of Gilbert's worth, and having raised him to the
priesthood, he then made him a sort of penitentiary of the
diocese. The tremendous power of the Keys was thus dele-
gated to St. Gilbert ; difficult cases of conscience and those
reserved for the jurisdiction of the bishop were referred to
him, and often within the walls of his own cathedral the bishop
might have been seen seeking counsel, penance, and absolution
at the feet of the humble rector of Sempringham.

A GREAT TRANSFORMATION.

Gilbert's unwillingness to accept any high dignity in the
church showed itself in a very marked way towards the close
of his official connection with Lincoln Cathedral. One of the
seven archdeaconries into which the diocese was in Catholic
times divided — that of Huntingdon — fell vacant ; it was a
princely position, and the bishop knew no one so worthy to fill
it as St. Gilbert. The saint, however, " felt himself totally unfit
to rule so many ; his path, he thought, lay among the poor of
the earth, among simple rustics and children ; he trembled at
the thought of being set on high among the clergy." Henry
of Huntingdon speaks of one of these archdeacons of Lincoln
as " the richest of all the archdeacons of England." The bare
thought of holding such high office filled Gilbert with conster-

348 AN EXTINCT RELIGIOUS ORDER [June,

nation, for he loved a simple life and holy poverty, and, con-
sequently, he declined the proffered dignity. Soon after, his
parents having died in the meantime, he determined to return
to Sempringham, and to devote to the service of the church
the large patrimony he had inherited from his father. Many
years had passed since, in obedience to his bishop's bidding,
he had torn himself from his school and parish to take his
place in the episcopal establishment at Lincoln. Returning to
the old home once again, he takes a position in the parish that
had not been his in his earlier years. Instead of as a lay-rec-
tor his people now look up to him as their spiritual father,
invested with all the authority of the priesthood supplemented
with the experience gained as a diocesan penitentiary. Many
of those who had known him in the by-gone days had by this
time found a resting-place beneath the turf in the church-yard,
and on the altar of the village church he might offer the Holy
Sacrifice for the repose of their souls. The modified conventual
discipline of his school had borne fruit, and seven maidens of
its pupils had been filled with a determination to dedicate
their virginity to God — one of their number being the above-
mentioned daughter of Gilbert's quondam Sempringham host
of past years. Their resolution was no mere passing fancy, it
was a true religious vocation manifesting itself as the result of
long and mature consideration ; it came, too, at an opportune
moment, since it provided a channel into which Gilbert might
divert part of the wealth he had decided to dedicate to God
and his church.

A SPIRITUAL "HAPPY FAMILY."

The origin of the Gilbertine Order was not the result of a
carefully worked-out, prearranged plan ; on the contrary, had
its founder been told that the plan he had in contemplation to
enable seven of his female parishioners to carry out their reli-
gious vocation would result in the formation of a new religious
order, with many subordinate houses throughout the whole dis-
trict, he would, in all probability, have stood aghast at the bare
idea of such an undertaking on the part of so humble an indi-
vidual as himself. The first step taken was to consult the bishop
of the diocese — that same Alexander of Lincoln with whom the
saint had already had such close relations. The bishop's esteem
for his late diocesan penitentiary had not lessened with the
severance of their more intimate personal connection ; he proved
a sympathetic adviser, and, when the order had developed, he

1896.]

AND ITS FOUNDER.

349

gave to it, " for the soul of King Henry, and my uncle Roger,
sometime Bishop of Salisbury," a plot of land surrounded by
marshes and a river that formed an island known as Haverholm,
on which a priory of the order was subsequently built. With
the bishop's approval a cloister was. erected adjacent to the
north wall of the parish church of St. Andrew at Sempringham,
and in it, after they had taken their vows at his hands, the
seven virgins were enclosed. Almost at once a difficulty pre-
sented itself as to how communications were to be carried on
between the cloister and the outer world — for food and other
necessaries had to be procured. To obviate this difficulty lay
sisters were instituted, who assisted the choir nuns with the

LINCOLN CATHEDRAL— CHOIR, LOOKING EAST.

rough work and carried on such outside intercourse as was in-
dispensable. Another development soon suggested itself. The
new convent had made it possible for certain devout pupils of
the Sempringham school to carry out their religious vocation ;
it had also rescued from many of the troubles and temptations
of life a number of poor girls who, as lay sisters, found con-
ventual discipline not so hard to bear as the condition from
which they had been drawn. But, as neither nuns nor lay sis-
ters could till the convent grounds and lands, the saint enlisted
the assistance of a number of serfs from his estates, beggars
from the highways, and others who, for love of God, took
monastic vows, and, as lay brothers, cultivated the farms and
VOL. LXIII.— 23

350 AN EXTINCT RELIGIOUS ORDER [June,

lands belonging to the order and thus supported the convent.
The brothers " had a chapter of their own, like monks," and
" services proportioned to their condition in life, and their spiri-
tual director guided them in the narrow way which leads to
everlasting life." The nuns followed the rule " of the monks of
the Cistercian Order, as far as the weakness of their sex allowed."
The convent was now self-supporting, and in making it so St.
Gilbert had performed an heroic act of self-renunciation, and
shown the reality of his love of holy poverty by putting into
practice the divine precept " go, sell what thou hast, and give
to the poor." His was no mere post-mortem benefaction involv-
ing little or no sacrifice, but a bequest, made in the prime of
life, that deprived him of all the pleasures that wealth could
procure. And now, as the order increased and spread abroad,
he began to feel the spiritual direction of the increasing num-
bers too much for his own unassisted efforts.

GILBERT A FRIEND OF ST. BERNARD'S.

At this time " the last of the Fathers " — the great St. Ber-
nard— was approaching the end of his earthly career. The
miracles wrought by his intercession, as well as the reclaiming
effects of his eloquence and sanctity on the heretics of South-
ern France, together with his having been instrumental in heal-
ing a schism in the church by securing Innocent II. in undis-
puted possession of St. Peter's chair, had won for the sainted
Abbot of Clairvaux the reverence of Christendom. Already St.
Gilbert had been assisted by the Cistercians of England, and now
he determined to repair to their great leader in hope of inducing
him to procure the admission of the Sempringham institute and
its offshoots into the Cistercian Order. The date of this jour-
ney into France was singularly opportune, as, in the general
chapter of Citeaux then being held, not only did he find St.
Bernard there present and three hundred abbots of the order,
but sitting amongst them was another Cistercian — Pope Euge-
nius III. The proposal to hand over the Sempringham insti-
tute did not find favor either with the chapter or Eugenius,
and in the end that pontiff, having confirmed the new order,
he by his supreme apostolic authority invested its founder with
the chief rule thereof. Both St. Bernard and Eugenius con-
ceived a great personal esteem for the saint, and the pope de-
clared that if he had known him before he had filled the recent
vacancy in the English episcopate, caused by the deposition of
St. William from the metropolitan see of York, he would have

1896.] AND ITS FOUNDER. 351

appointed St. Gilbert to that archbishopric. Gilbert had been
unsuccessful in the primary object of his visit to Citeaux, yet
the journey had not been fruitless, for the pope's confirmation
had raised the Gilbertine institute into one of the recognized
orders of the church, and the grant, -by the same supreme au-
thority, of jurisdiction to govern the new order had invested
its founder with great dignity, and a right to command that he
had not previously possessed. The full responsibility and care
of the order was thus left upon his shoulders, and that in spite
of his strenuous efforts to induce the Cistercians to undertake
its government. Under these circumstances he determined, with
the approval of the pontiff, to further extend it by an addition
of a number of canons who should follow the rule of St. Au-
gustine and lighten his own duties by acting as confessors to
their respective convents. " The canons and the nuns never
saw each other, except when a nun was at the point of death
and the priest entered to administer extreme unction, and to
commend her soul into the hands of God. The nuns were un-
seen when they made their confessions or received Holy Com-
munion, for which purpose a grating was constructed. . . .
There were two separate churches, and across that of the nuns
was built a screen "; they were thus enabled to hear Mass shut
off entirely from the view of the celebrant and his assistants.
We may observe, in passing, that double monasteries had ex-
isted at an earlier age- in England, as well as on the Continent.
Lingard goes so far as to say that, " during the first two cen-
turies after the conversion of our ancestors, the principal nun-
neries were established on this plan ; nor are we certain that
there existed any others of a different description." We may
cite, as examples, St. Hilda's at Whitby, and St. Etheldreda's
at Ely.

DAYS OF MARTYRDOM.

It was in Gilbert's latter days that the state, under Henry
II., attempted to fetter the church in England with the Con-
stitutions of Clarendon. From the conflict that resulted from
that attempt the church emerged victorious, but at the cost of
the life of one of the noblest of those whose names are written in
letters of blood in the calendar of the saints. At an earlier stage
in this contest between the king and St. Thomas of Canter-
bury, it was one of the Sempringham brotherhood who guided
the future martyr when " he rose at night from his couch in the
priory church of St. Andrew at Northampton to betake himself

352 AN EXTINCT RELIGIOUS ORDER LJune>

to Lincoln. Thence, with his trusty companion, St. Thomas
made his way by boat for forty miles to a secluded cell among
the swamps, where he abode in safety for three days among
the Gilbertine canons, who had made those watery wastes their
own. Their priory at Haverlot, near Boston, was his next rest-
ing-place, and thence he made his way, travelling by night for
fear of recognition, till he reached the Kentish coast and passed
unharmed to France."

The known sympathy of the Gilbertines with the archbishop
and his cause drew the attention of the civil authorities and
brought trouble to the brotherhood. St. Gilbert and the priors

LINCOLN CATHEDRAL — MAIN PORCH, BEING PART OF THE ORIGINAL BUILDING AS IT
STOOD IN ST. GILBERT'S TIME.

of the order were summoned to appear in London to clear
themselves by oath from the suspicion of having sent monetary
assistance to the exiled primate. When brought into court the
saint refused to take any such oath, since he held that St.
Thomas had every right to expect the assistance of the church
whose rights he was upholding, and a purgation of himself and
the order, in the way suggested, would be looked upon as an
avowal of the unlawfulness of compliance with such a claim. The
king was at this time in France, and, when the above refusal
was made known to him, he decided that the matter should

1896.] AND ITS FOUNDER. 353

stand over till his return to England. Then, when he could
do so without a seeming repudiation of the archbishop's cause,
St. Gilbert declared of his own free will that he had not sent
him assistance.

'CANONIZATION.

The saint died in 1189 or 1190. Almost at once miracles
wrought through his intercession in favor of those who came
to his tomb for help began to be noised abroad ; the attention
of the ecclesiastical authorities was drawn to the matter, and
resulted in an inquiry made, in 1201, by commissioners' of Pope
Innocent III. The evidence adduced was not drawn from re-
mote antiquity ; on the contrary, the witnesses may have known
St. Gilbert in life, and their testimony related to matters of
fact taking place in their own day. Early in the following
year he was raised to the honors of the altar by the same
pope, and still later on in the same year, 1202, his relics were
translated into the priory church at Sempringham.

At the time of the Reformation the Gilbertine Order was
entirely swept away, but St. Gilbert's reputation will never die.
His life of humility, self-sacrifice, and devotion to the church
remains for our emulation, and his name " shall be blessed for
ever."

WAR AND PEACE.

TWO men, fate-born on either side of a pass,
Battled, in hate, till their life-blood reddened the grass
A century gone — when lo ! from their mingled clay
A lily arose and gave new light to the day!

JOHN JEROME ROONEY.

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. 355

THE AMERICAN CELT AND HIS CRITICS.

BY WALTER LECKY.

:N the Atlantic Monthly for March Henry Childs
Merwin presented a study of " The Irish in
American Life." This paper is the first of a
promised series on " Race Elements in American
Nationality." It has attracted wide attention and
criticism from representative Irish-American journals.

The writer of the paper evidently desires to be fair, but
this is not possible, owing to the limited qualifications he brings
to his study. A perusal of his article shows that Mr. Childs
Merwin has in his mind the political agitating Irishman as a
type of the race. It is dangerous to judge a nation by a selec-
tion which for many reasons is attractive to a critic of Mr.
M3rwin's disposition. It gives him that valued privilege — some-
thing to attack. The political Irishman, with his engrafted
peculiarities, presenting a variety of knots and boles to the
critical chopper, has long been in demand. He has been an
incubus on his race. His malformity has been lovingly saddled
on his people by that vast body of critics whose dictum is,
•" Judge the summer by the first swallow."

Mr. Merwin begins his paper by telling us that, " since the
settlement of this country we have received nearly, if not quite,
four million immigrants from Ireland — a number about two-
thirds as large as that of the present population of Ireland.
To understand what part these people have played in Ameri-
can life, it is necessary to inquire what were their antecedents
and what was their national character." He answers the first by
informing his readers that they were "the most Irish of the Irish."
They have come mainly from the western counties — from Clare,
Kerry, Leitrim and Galway, and Sligo, and these are the counties
in which the inhabitants are most nearly of Celtic descent."

This statement was necessary in order that Mr. Merwin would
have his genuine " Celt " to dissect. It is unsupported by a single
statistical fact, and Mr. Merwin should know in these days we are
sceptical of assumptions even when they come from great men.

To say that an Irish immigration of nearly, if not quite, four
millions " have come mainly " from five counties in Ireland is
absurd. Ireland has twenty-seven counties over those men-

356 THE AMERICAN CELT AXD His CRITICS. [June,

tioned by Mr. Merwin, and among these a few counties whose
immigration is equally as great as that which flows from the
counties named by Mr. Merwin. Let us have the statistics. Mr.
Merwin here purports to write history, and our age asks, not
personal assumptions but Ranke's test of documentary proof.

The second inquiry, as to their national character, is an-
swered in a long string of adjectives — that picturesque mode of
criticism. "A Celt," says Mr. Merwin, "is notoriously a pas-
sionate, impulsive, kindly, unreflecting, brave, nimble-witted
man ; but he lacks the solidity, the balance, the judgment, the
moral staying power of the Anglo-Saxon." To clear away these
adjectives, the simple statement would run: "The Irishman is
insane ; the Anglo-Saxon is sane." Unreflecting is certainly no
badge of sanity. " The judgment " marks sanity. To put forth
the astounding statement that in the race elements in American
nationality there is an insane constituent, namely, that of the
Celt, proves the inherent prejudice and the logical looseness
of Mr. Merwin. "Kindly" and "brave," adjectives denoting
qualities that are justly cherished and esteemed by the race to
which they are prefixed, are worthless in Mr. Merwin's text.
The word " unreflecting " is the kick that spills the milk.

To point out Mr. Merwin's reckless use of the adjective, let
us take " nimble-witted," used in the same phrase as " unreflect-
ing." "Wit," says Locke, "consists in assembling and putting
together with quickness ideas in which can be found resem-
blance and congruity, by which to make up pleasant pictures
and agreeable visions in the fancy." Nimble-witted would be
a quickness of faculty in associating ideas in a new and unex-
pected manner. Surely this requires reflection.

How a nation may be unreflecting and nimble-witted at the
same time requires a Merwinian commentary. I am reminded
of a story told by a well-known literary New-Yorker, who, after
having listened to that New England peripatete, Bronson Alcott,
informed the philosopher that his adjectives were too much for
him, that they so confused him that he lost the discourse's mean-
ing. "I thought you would," was the peripatete's calm reply.

Conan Doyle and Grant Allen have at length shown how
mythical is the term Anglo-Saxon. We might pertinently ask
here how much of the " moral staying power of the Anglo-Saxon "
might be allotted to the Celt ? " The Celts," says Mr. Merwin,
" so far as their history is kaown, have been as unsuccessful in
war as they have been brave in battle. Their history is a his-,
tory of defeat." And he emphasizes this by a quotation :

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. 357

" They went forth to war, but they always fell. As far as
their history is known " ; that is, as far as Mr. Merwin knows
it, which I take to be, from the above, from the conquest
by England. Yet Ireland has authentic history prior to this
epoch. The battle of Clontarf, and the quick subjugation of
the Danes which followed, is not defeat. The battle waged
against England, it is true, ended in defeat ; but the same
might be written of Scotland, Wales, French Canada, India,
Ashantee, and possibly the Transvaal. It was the fight of a
well-fed cat against a starved church-mouse. It adds nothing
to the intellectual stature of Mr. Merwin's Anglo-Saxon. Russia
is not a beacon-light of intellectualism, yet she can boast of
such conquests. Had England, in Ireland, been a civilizing
power, instead of a barbarizing one, " the moral power of the
Anglo-Saxon " might go unquestioned. What England has she
owes to the shrewdness of a few statesmen who taught, what
has been since incorporated into her statecraft, that nations
are more easily held by civil dissensions than by bayonets.
The recent stirring of strife between Uitlanders and Boers, to
the reader of her past, is but her preliminary to future con-
quest. The plunder of the monasteries, in which were housed
the centuries of gold-collecting made into implements of wor-
ship, threw into her coffers, at a time when maritime discovery
was the world's dream, that which was able to purchase squad-
rons and man them with the adventurous spirits who cared
little for the means by which conquest might be achieved.
These historical facts must be kept in mind in a survey of the
great Anglo-Saxon. "Intellectually," says Mr. Merwin, "the
Celt is fundamentally different from the Anglo-Saxon. He pro-
ceeds by intuition rather than by inference, and he is usually
unable to state the process by which he has reached a given
conclusion in such a way as to be convincing, or even com-
prehensible, to an Anglo-Saxon antagonist."

The reader will note the constant use of such qualifying
adverbs as mainly, usually, etc. To support this " intuition
rather than by inference " we have the sole testimony of the
undistinguished writer.

The Celt has been distinguished in pure mathematics, which
is certainly not an intuitive subject ; in law, which asks for
inference more than intuition ; in sciences, which require fact-
building. That the Anglo-Saxon does not understand the Celt's
reasoning oftener arises from disinclination to listen rather than
from any auricular malformation. The Celt has been for cen-

358 THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. [June,

turies asking for the removal of certain civil disabilities, and he
has brought to his suit unanswerable reasons not only to the
Anglo-Saxon mind but to any mind balanced by justice. Now,
the Anglo-Saxon mind sneeringly remarks that these arguments
are not comprehensible ; its press takes up the cry, and by its
machinery the superficial, and that is the majority, have another
proof that the Celtic mind is not one of inference. It has been
the way of the world for the conqueror to depreciate the van-
quished. It has been the way of books, from Caesar to Froude,
to paint the conquered race given to vice rather than to virtue.

Take the present agitation for Home Rule. Does Mr. Mer-
win delude himself that the Anglo-Saxon does not understand
the process by which the Celt has come to his conclusion — that
his arguments are not comprehensible? I do not think that Mr.
Merwin would debar Mr. Gladstone, John Morley, and the late
Cardinal Manning from coming under Anglo-Saxon, yet they
have been converted by Celtic arguments which must have
been comprehensible. This is another case of Mr. Childs Mer-
win's reckless use of words. Mr. Merwin continues :

" I was present once at a long discussion between the most
brilliant Irishman whom I ever knew and an American of great
talent. After it had come to an impotent conclusion, one of
the disputants declared, ' It is useless for us to discuss, for we
really cannot understand each other ' ; and that was the truth. It
was this fundamental difference that a great English writer had
in mind when he said, after a residence of some length in Ire-
land, 'It becomes more clear to me every day that, in their
ways of thinking, in their ideals and mental habits, these people
are as different from us as if they belonged to a different world.' '

This duel of a "brilliant Irishman" with the " American of
great talent " is a bit of padding ; it proves nothing. You cannot
predicate a something of a race which you have remarked in
the lone individual. The brilliant Irishman, whom we may sup-
pose to have argued "intuitively," may have been obstinate
and stubbornly held to his opinions when the " inferential "
American had the best of him. It was an Anglo-Saxon who
wrote :

" 'Tis with our judgments as our watches — none
Are just alike, yet each believes his own."

It is a common occurrence for two brilliant American sena-
tors not to understand each other. After their impotent con-
clusion, who thinks of drawing any racial reference ? Who the
" great English writer " was we are not told, yet we have a

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. 359

right to know. It matters much whether it was Mr. Froude
or Mr. Morley. We want to know the writer's antecedents.
Is he impartial? or is he one of strong rancorous prejudice?
Did he conform to the habits of the people, and from their own
plane judge them, or did he ask them to conform to his?

Mrs. Trollope ; Charles Dickens, a great English writer ;
Hamilton Aide; Paul Bourget, a great French writer, "after a
residence of some length " in America, have given us their
impressions, and we have smiled at the vanity which prompted
them to do so. Let an English author use these impressions,
and we at once set up the claim as to their uselessness. Mr.
Merwin's "great English writer " would have written his quoted
sentence of any country outside of his own land :

" Mr. Arnold, in his acute essay upon Celtic literature, says
that if we are to characterize the Celtic nature by a single
word, ' sentimental ' is the word that we should choose ; and,
adopting the happy phrase of a French writer, he speaks of
* the Celts, with their vehement reaction against the despotism
of fact.' It is this inability to see facts as they are, to realize
their consequences and to submit to them, which more than
anything else has impaired the efficiency of the Celtic race.
For instance, to attempt, as the Fenians did, the conquest of
England by throwing a handful of soldiers across the line
between Canada and the United States was a signal example
of 'reaction against the despotism of fact.''

The despotism alluded to is the contiguity of Ireland to
England. This is one of those smart phrases which sounds
well, but will not stand analysis. Gibraltar by " the despotism
of fact " should belong to Spain ; by the despotism of arms it
belongs to England. What may look like facts to one nation,
another may plead inability to see in the same light. The
Anglo-Saxon sought to teach the Celt that he was conquered,
and should abandon his race and religion and be adopted by
sister England. His inability to do so has not impaired the
race, which has many a morrow under better circumstances to
fructify. Other nations show " a vehement reaction against the
despotism of fact," as Poland, Norway, Hungary.

" The Celt is essentially a social creature, loving society and
hating solitude ; and this trait has determined to no small
extent his career as a citizen of the United States."

The inference is here that the Irish population in our cities
is owing to the Celt's love of society and hatred of solitude,
which is an entirely erroneous theory. His crowding in cities

360 THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. [June,

arises from circumstances over which he had no mastery. Bar-
barized at home, he knew nothing of land-tilling, had no money
to invest ; his passage often defrayed by a sister who had
readily found domestic service in the cities, he remained where
he found something to do. He was not an artisan, like the
emigrants of other nations ; he had no colonization societies to
help him to a hold in the soil. If he left the city his service
was worthless, so he wisely remained where there was a market.
There is no doubt but he often longed for the rural solitude
of his early years. The traveller in Ireland who visits Galway
or the mountain fastnesses of Donegal will smile at Mr. Mer-
win's idea of the Celtic love for society. In these lonely
regions the Celt toils from year to year ; he will pass his life
without having seen a city. The Celt in America taking up
the abandoned farms of New England, with the earnings that
his family has rigorously saved, and the quick transformation
of his sons into brawny farmers, tells that his city-crowding
was in nowise his fault. What reflection does Mr. Merwin
make on the descendants of the Puritans, who are abandoning
their ancestral homes for the toil and grime of the city? This
city-crowding has often given the Celt power, and as he was
human he used it just as the other races do. He has been the
victim of cunning, devising men, who have used him as a lad-
der to eminence, and from their heights thanked him with
scorn ; some of his own whom he elevated became loathsome
creatures, and the burden of their sins fell on his shoulders.
Prejudice heaped on the race the sins of the individuals.

" A quality of deceit, of unveracity, such as is always found
in a race long under subjection," is another specimen of Mr.
Merwin's hasty generalizations to fit the character formed in
his mind of what the Celt should be. Here the critic again
saddles the politician as the race type. Deceit, unveracity are
of the nature of politics, and blossom in every land. Has Mr.
Merwin read the lives of Warren Hastings, Talleyrand, Metter-
nich, etc ? Does he not know that in every little town in the
States there is a clique of deceitful, unveracious politicians?
The present writer lived in a thoroughly " Yankee " town, and
witnessed for years men of standing in that town buying votes
on election-day, through agencies that they only knew that
day, for money or whiskey. The cartoons representing a poli-
tician wading through mire the day before election to greet
the American farmer, and the day after not knowing him, were
a telling rub at American politics. The Irishman coming to

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. 361

America found politics unveracious and deceitful. When he de-
cided "to have a hand in them," to use a phrase, he had "to
join the gang." Their effect was baneful to his character, an
odium prejudicially cast upon his race.

Travellers in Ireland have found the people there an emi-
nently religious race, and of such people lying cannot be specified.
Being an imaginative race, the language will naturally be rich
and full of color. It will not be stingy of words ; facts can be
clothed in rich robes, I remind the critic, as well as in plain kirtle.

The " Irish, notwithstanding their intense love for Ireland,"
who "have always exhibited a certain shame at being Irish in-
stead of American," are an ignorant few found in most races. A
few ignorant Germans and French Canadians change their name,
anglicize it, and claim to have had relations aboard the May-
flower. Who thinks of judging the Germans or the French Cana-
dian by this scum ? Certainly not the philosophic historian. It
would be ignoring the beauty of Apollo to scan a wart on his toe.

As to an "inferiority of condition," how could it be otherwise?

Mr. Merwin's "Anglo-Saxon" was rooted in the soil, maker
of laws and keeper of the good things. Exiles driven from
their homes, penniless and scantily clad, with eyes to see and
intelligence to discern, must have readily come to the conclu-
sion of an inferiority of condition, but, as Mr. Merwin well says,
not one "of nature." This was evidenced by their manner of
setting to work in order to destroy this inferiority of condition.

Considering the extent of their undertaking, and the dis-
tance of their competitors, the present position of the race
needs no apologist. Rome was not built in a day, and the way
from poverty to opulence is beset with many hardships requir-
ing reasonable time to conquer them. As to the incident re-
lated by Mr. William O'Brien, it but proves to what a low
condition the " Anglo-Saxon " had reduced the race by centu-
ries of penal enactments.

In our own day we have the same effect : French Canadians
foolishly pretending forgetfulness of their mother-tongue, be-
cause those who are superior in condition ignorantly sneer at
it. A similar case may be found in Germany during the reign
of the great Frederick, who, says Adolph Stahr, "despised the
German language."

During his reign, says Karl Hildebrand, " foreign manners,
foreign language predominated everywhere." Voltaire writes :
" Je me trouv£ ici en France. On ne parle que notre langue.
L'allemand est pour les soldats et pour les chevaux."

362 THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. [June,

It was the bitter remembrance of those times that made
Schiller sing :

" Kein Augustisch Alter bliihte,

Keines Medicaers Giite
Lachelte der deutschen Kunst.

" Von dem grossten deutschen Sohne,
Von des grossen Friedrich's Throne
Ging sie schutzlos, ungeehrt." *

This shame is entirely human, and not in any way a racial
characteristic. Learned and ignorant alike despise with power
and laugh with sarcasm. As to the term " Paddy," it was
given by the " Anglo-Saxon " in derision to the race and religion,
just in the same way as Catholics, in derision of their religion,
are called Romanists. Their resentment was just. It came to
their ears just the same as frog-eater to the Frenchman's, as a
term of inequality. I cannot see the point in one Irishman using
it as an opprobrium to another. The sting was put there by
Mr. Merwin's " Anglo-Saxon."

"Another Irish trait, often exhibited in American life, is a
morbid sensitiveness, a readiness to take offence and to suspect
insult or unkindness when none is intended ; and this, too, is
the badge of a conquered race. This failing has been shown
most conspicuously in political matters. When Mayor Hewitt,
of New York, refused to permit the Irish flag to be hoisted
over City Hall upon St. Patrick's Day, the Irishmen of New
York received the refusal with a tirade of abuse. A Democratic
governor of Massachusetts once declined to review an Irish so-
ciety because its members paraded under arms, which was con-
trary to the law of the State. This was a just and manly act
on his part, and one from which he, being a Democrat, could
gain no possible advantage ; but the Irish, with Celtic impetu-
osity and with the supersensitiveness of a conquered race, over-
looked the motive, and took the act as an intentional insult."

I must again remind Mr. Merwin that his paragraph refers
to the political Irishman who is always on the alert to make
capital out of his resentment. The industrious Irish-American
does not give three straws for an Irish flag floating over a city
hall on the I7th of March. He does not believe in parades.
The politicians, who are mainly rum-sellers, do ; in the hopes

* " No Augustan age flourished, the kindness of no Medicis smiled on German art. From
Germany's greatest son, from the throne of the great Frederick, she went unprotected, un-
honored.

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. 363

that it may bring grist to their mill. At the time of Mayor
Hewitt's refusal many letters appeared in the metropolitan press
from Irish artisans declaring the mayor within his right. Poli-
ticians disturbed in their plans generally hail their disturber
with " a tirade of abuse." The gradual extinction of parades is
an index of the Irish-American feeling on this point.

" Finally, our Irish immigrants have been almost universally
Catholic in religion, and to the difference in religion between
them and native Americans, more than to difference of race or
of temperament, is due the fact that they still form a distinct
though integral part of the community. However, the American
people, though Protestant, had ceased, at the time of the great
Irish immigration, to be aggressively Protestant. They had also
become much easier to live with, more flexible, more open-
minded, than the Englishmen from whom they were descended ;
and, on the whole, the two races — Anglo-Saxon, American, Pro-
testant, on the one hand, and Celtic, Irish, Catholic, on the
other — have lived and labored side by side with astonishingly
little friction. There was, to be sure, the Know-Nothing move-
ment of 1854-55, but that was a short-lived affair, and the pres-
ent efforts of the A. P. A. are less effective, and bid fair to be
equally transitory. The argument against the Irish, as Catho-
lics, is that they owe allegiance first to the pope, and only
secondarily to the government of the United States ; but if
these two powers ever come in conflict, it is safe to assume
that national feeling will prevail, and that the pope will be dis-
regarded. In the middle ages the authority of the pope was
far greater, national feeling was far weaker, than is the case
now ; and yet the history of the middle ages is full of instances
where the pope attempted to carry out some anti-national
policy and failed. To what, indeed, is the present isolated posi-
tion of the Holy Father due except to his vain resistance of
that national feeling which produced United Italy."

Mr. Merwin is not a clear writer. It is difficult to ascertain
what he really means in writing such a sentence as "They still
form a distinct though integral part of the community " while
treating of the Celtic race element in American nationality. What
about the German Catholics, Poles, French, etc.? They form, I
presume, a distinct though integral part of the community.

What then of the Catholics, descendants of those who came
from England with Calvert, or of converts whose sires were
Plymouth fathers? When he tells us that the "American peo-
ple, though Protestant, had ceased, at the time of the great

364 THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. [June,

Irish immigration, to be aggressively Protestant," we beg leave
to question the most interested parties.

Mr. Merwin gives the Protestant side of the issue. The old
adage runs : " It is good to hear the other side." In my re-
searches I was recently led to examine files of journals, mostly
sectarian, covering the period referred to by Mr. Merwin.

These are convincing of the unabated aggressiveness of
Protestantism. To this proof I might add the oral tradition of
those who sought employment during those times. They had
to suffer. Times had changed. Protestantism was well to do,
and beginning to look down with contempt on domestic service.
The Irishman was tolerated as a menial. Soon he became a
necessity ; and as he did, the Anglo-Saxon's flexibility and
open-mindedness followed. As his competence increased, and
his inferior condition wore away, the friction naturally became
less. Nations that treat inferior nations with contempt, when
•\ the inferior shows equality, polish their manners. Japan of
yesterday sneered at, Japan of to-day praised, is a good example.

"The argument against the Irish, as Catholics, is that they
owe allegiance first to the pope, and only secondarily to the
government of the United States." Who makes this argument?
Surely no man of education, who can distinguish between the
material and the spiritual. The Catholic Church teaches that
the pope is the visible Head of the Church, the successor of
St. Peter and Vicar of Christ, to whom allegiance in spiritual
matters is due. Catholics, let it be emphasized for the benefit
of those who clamor of "allegiance to the pope," hold that their
religion is supernatural. If this fact be thoroughly digested,
they will not be attacked for holding that duty to God pre-
cedes duty to country, yet they may be both consonant.
Ignorant Protestants imagine the pope as a foreign potentate,
who aims at establishing a material kingdom. They lose the
supernatural point of view, and hence lose all knowledge of the
subject. History is a complete vindication of how thoroughly
Catholics kept clear the difference between the temporal and
spiritual powers of the Papacy. This same charge might equally
be made against the Catholics of other denominations, against
• various other religions and societies whose heads are Europeans.
It is an objection that the Celtic race rightly ignore, after their
services of many years to their adopted land. If acts do not
satisfy contentious bigotry, words are useless. Here is how
Bishop England, many years ago, dealt with "the allegiance first
to the pope, and only secondarily to the government of the

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS, 365

United States " : " His (the pope's) jurisdiction is only in spirit-
ual and ecclesiastical things. The American Constitution leaves
its citizens in perfect freedom to have whom they please to
regulate their spiritual concerns. But if the pope were to de-
clare war against America, and any Roman Catholic, under the
pretext of spiritual obedience, were to refuse to resist this
temporal aggressor, he would deserve to be punished for his
refusal, because he owes to his country to maintain its rights.
Spiritual power does not and cannot destroy the claim which
the government has upon him." The news, for such it is, that
the present isolated position of the Holy Father is due to his
vain resistance of that national feeling which produced United
Italy smacks of the journalistic dogmatism of the day.

" Saloon-keepers are notoriously Irishmen ; and what more
social occupation could there be than keeping a saloon. In the
Boston directory are the names of 526 persons who sell liquor
at retail, and of these names 317 are unmistakably Irish."

Mr. Merwin is here fitting his words to his premeditated
belief in Celtic sociability.

Let us at once admit the woful preponderance of Irish in
the liquor-traffic ; it does not prove the sociability theory.

The Irish, coming here unskilled, are, like Micawber, waiting
for something to turn up. They became bartenders, not from
choice but from compulsion. They had no friends and were
compelled to find bread-employment at once.

Entered in this business, which was eminently respectable in
their native land, the temptation to embrace an easy-going life
was strong. This same fascination applies to all races. Irish
as bartenders, owing to their using the mother tongue, were in
greater demand. Customers would not wait patiently for
Jacques or Rudolph to learn English. The Irishman's ready
wit was also an attraction.

Brewers not of his race, distillers with names suggesting the
landing at Plymouth Rock, offered this obscure bartender a
cozy nook, elegantly fitted up and well supplied with all kinds
of liquors.

He could be master of all this loveliness, quick possession,
on condition that he sold their liquors. He acquiesced, and the
reformers ever since have smiled and prayed in the halls of the
tempter, and poured the vials of their wrath on the tempted.
His townsmen from the old land, who were engaged during .the
day in the most ceaseless toil, were glad to leave their squalid
homes in the rickety tenements and hasten to the sumptuous,
VOL. LXIII. — 24

366 THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. [June,

dazzling barroom of Pat and Mike. They saw him wax rich ; a
few would become his apprentices, who would later follow the
master's calling. Pat or Mike, growing rich, open-hearted,
laughter-loving, became ambitious, founded this or that club,
giving it a name attractive to his countrymen ; finally running
for office. His friends rallied to his support ; he was elected,
and became the dupe of cunning men who, when later on their
trickery came to light, coolly saddled it on the "ignorant Irish
politicians." The press was in the hands of his enemy ; the
comic papers held him up as the bite noir in American politics.
He soon learned their theory. Politics, he found, was an old
Saxon game of helping yourself, as the saying goes, first, last,
and at all times. This apt student of the American political
school, formed in an " Anglo-Saxon " mould, is the specimen
Irishman in American life so lovingly hugged by the critics
as the genuine Celt.

" The Irish have not yet realized the American idea, that
the people are themselves the government, and that he who
holds office is administering a trust for the whole people, of
whom he himself is a part. Political dishonesty is hardly more
of a crime to an Irishman than smuggling to a woman."

So runs Mr. Merwin's airy generalizing. Would Mr. Merwin
name a single city ruled by the Anglo-Saxon where the poli-
ticians in practice teach his American idea, that he who holds
office is administering a public trust ? Take Vermont, and we
find that every little town has its political clique which holds
in practice that a public office is a personal "grab."

The present legislature of New York is not Celtic. Hear
an " Anglo-Saxon " critic on its idea of administering a trust
for the whole people. Rev. Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst in a
speech at Plymouth Church, March 23, 1896, thus described the
Anglo-Saxon legislature :

" When two sets of thieves cease to discourage one another's
rapacity, you always know there is an amicable understanding
as to the lootings. That is legislation. That is the sort of
unctuous maw that is even now watering with beastly voracity
at the succulent prospect."

It is evident from this divine that the " American idea " has
not been mastered by the " Anglo-Saxon."

The New York Harper's Weekly — a publication that carefully
eschews all things Celtic and takes evident pains to laud the
" Anglo-Saxon " — writing of a late piece of legislation by this
" Anglo-Saxon " legislature, says :

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS.

"No more prolific source of corruption, and no more nefar-
ious engine of political tyranny than this bill could have been
contrived by the most inventive genius of mischief."

" If we say that the course which the Irish have taken in
politics has been more uniformly and consistently bad than that
pursued by native Americans, we shall probably state the truth."

In the light of these extracts where is the probability?

Mr. Merwin sees the race through the Tammany corruption
of a few discredited Irish politicians. Has he plummeted the
depth of corruption in that Native-American city of Baltimore ?

"Among Irish politicians there is an almost entire absence
of that reform element which has always to be reckoned with
in the case of native Americans."

The reader will again note Mr. Merwin's saving use of
adverbs. This is a baseless assertion, as is evidenced from the
thousands of Irish votes that were given to what they honestly
believed to be the Reform cause in the last city elections, thus
electing the ticket of Strong and Goff. Irish-Americans are con-
spicuous in the Good Government Clubs. Judged as a race,
they are in political honesty certainly not below the native
American. Political morality is so low that the least said the
better. Mr. Merwin's native American, if wisdom is one of his
accomplishments, will avoid boasting. A calm reading of the
recent enactments passed in the various States, at the suggestions
of capitalists and with the help of " boodle," will be an effectual
guard on his tongue.

"The herding of the Irish in our large cities, and their sud-
den contact with new social and political conditions, have made
the average of pauperism, crime, and mortality very high
among them. For example, in the year 1890 the number of
white paupers born in the United States, but having both
parents foreign-born and both parents of the same nationality,
was, so far as it could be ascertained, 3,333. To this number
the Irish contributed 1,806, whereas the Germans contributed
only 916, although the Germans in this country outnumber the
Irish by more than a million. A table which indicates, not
the pauper but the criminal element, is even more significant.
In 1890 the number of white prisoners who were born in the
United States, but who had both parents foreign-born and both
parents of the same nationality, was 1 1,327. These were dis-
tributed, so far as the Irish and Germans are concerned, as
follows: Irish, 7,935; German, 1,709."

I cannot do better in answer to this paragraph than to

368 THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. [June,

quote an "Anglo-Saxon," Rev. Alfred Young. The extract
is taken from a chapter of his book, Catholic and Protestant
Countries Compared, entitled " The Alleged Criminality of the
Irish People " :

" If statistics give a large number of Irish criminals and pau-
pers, the sociologist will tell you why it is, and why it is quite
reasonable it should be so, despite their nationality or religion.
These Irish criminals and paupers in this country are the dregs
of an enforced emigration of a population degraded by oppres-
sion, reduced by torturing poverty, and stimulated to violent
reprisals against their oppressors, flying from one form of grasp-
ing landlordism to another in this country which drives the
lower classes of them into a compulsory order of social life
and environments which cannot but breed crime, fostered and
increased by a base, conscienceless class, composed of their own
fellow-Irishmen and others, who defy the most solemn entreaties
and denunciations of their religious superiors, and the laws of
the state ; and who, carried away by the popular passion for
amassing riches, open their convict and pauper-making drinking
saloons, and there devour the substance of their hard-working,
and too free-handed fellow-countrymen. The Catholic Church
has no more unworthy representatives on the face of the earth
of her true moral influence than these drinking-saloon breeders
of crime and poverty." For Catholic Church let the reader
read Irish race, and he will enter fully into my mind.

To the above extract I might add the suggestive sentence
of Mr. Howe Tolman : " The rich can shield and shelter their
children, but alas for those of the poor ! " Thus pauperism
and crime are not, then, racial, but the outcome of the liquor-traffic
and environment which came from their penniless expulsion to
our shores. The liquor-traffic, that terrible bane, must be grap-
pled by the race at once, and subdued. Already the race has
taken the initial step by holding up the traffickers to detesta-
tion. I might mention the work of such men as Archbishop
Ireland and Father Cleary, the numerous temperance societies,
the millions of leaflets annually distributed, and, above all, the
actions of beneficial unions disbarring rum-sellers as members.
This is conclusive evidence that the Celt has become weary
of the politician and saloon-keeper, and at all hazards is deter-
mined to destroy his influence. We speedily hope for the result.

" If you take up a book written by a genuine Irishman, you
will find, as a rule, that it is more witty, certainly more elo-
quent and imaginative in style, than the ordinary English or

1896.] THE AMERICAN CELT AND His CRITICS. 369

American book. But read on a little, and you are almost sure
to come upon some statement so careless, so exaggerated, so
autrtf, or so illogical that the effect of the whole is spoiled.
The Celt, though artistic by nature, is almost never a good
artist. He has the sense of beauty — that is the gift of nature ;
but the sense of form, which is only in part the gift of nature,
and which depends upon a trained judgment, upon self-discip-
line, upon hard, continuous work, he lacks. Ireland is running
over with poetic feeling, but where are the Irish poets ? The
liveliness and sociability of the Celt, which make him a dweller
in cities, also tend to repress the literary instinct. He has not
that brooding, meditative spirit which is nursed in solitude, and
which is necessary to the development of literary genius."

The. Celt lacks the gift of form ; but inasmuch as this
•depends, as Merwin admits, on trained judgment, self-discipline,
etc., it is not racial, unless these qualities are predicated as
beyond the power of the race — surely an insane predication.
Has Mr. Merwin read the songs of Thomas Moore? Are they
formless? Has he read the balanced periods of Shiel ? Does
he consider the writings of Mahaffy wanting in artistry?

A late American book, Phases of Thought, by Brother Aza-
rias, shows trained judgment, self-discipline, hard, continuous
work. Yet this Brother Azarias was a pure Celt. Mr. Merwin
evidently bases his dictum on some hasty, hurriedly gotten-up,
catch-penny Irish selections, where ignorant Celtic rhymers run
to riot.

No critic would utter such a dictum whose knowledge of
Celtic literature was in anywise profound. Let me remind Mr.
Merwin that that consummate artist and stylist, Renan, was a
Celt. To produce literature (I use the word in its true sense)
requires culture and leisure. The Irish-American, as yet, has
been too busy in home-making to have these requisites. What
has the native American done ? Produced a Concord sage, whose
form is imperfect if judged by long standing literary canons,
and a chaotic Walt Whitman, who is the god of the younger
school of native American poetry — a poetry which " is running
over the country."

Mr. Merwin should avoid criticism ; he is strangely unfit
for its office. I lay down his article with Matthew Green's
shrewd couplet in my mind :

"And mere upholsters in a trice
On gems and paintings set a price."

370

" SUKGE, AMIGA ME A, ET VENI!"

[June.

SURGE, AMIGA MEA, ET VENI ! "

BY "ALBA.'

RISE, and come away !

Why art thou ling'ring there ?
Life is too short a day

To waste on empty air.
Long have the world's vain joys

Tempted thy soul to stray ;
Leave, now, those aimless toys.

Arise, and come away !

Leave, now, the darken'd land
Of lying Heresy,

In Sion's light to stand.
Let not thy heart despair,

Though grievous be the way;
My Voice shall guide thee there.

Arise, and come away !

Arise, and come away!

Unbind each earthly tie ;
Quit life and all things gay,

The flesh to crucify.
Where home-affections shine

Others may guiltless stay ;
But thou art seal'd for Mine.

Arise, and come away !

Arise, and come away!

Life's hour of longing past,
Cloudless Eternity

Bursts on thy gaze at last.
Mine through the tearful night —

Mine through the Endless Day-
Bride of Salvation's Light,

Arise, and come, away !

THE GREAT REPEALER, DANIEL O'CONNELL.

THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

NGLAND is the richest empire in the world to-
day. At no period in her history have her for-
tunes been so high. While the rest of the globe
has been suffering from a protracted visitation
of commercial distress she has prospered abnor-
mally. After expending nearly a hundred million pounds for
her public service in the past year, her Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer finds himself now in possession of more than four mil-
lions of a surplus. But side by side with England is her op-
pressed sister, Ireland, sunk at this moment in the most woe-
begone condition of all the countries in Europe. Her fortunes
were never in so desperate a plight. In inverse ratio to Eng-
land's rise has been that unhappy country's downfall. She
stands at this moment as a ragged and starving beggar from the

3/2 THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. [June,

Whitechapel slums beside a silk-robed, gem-decked, over-fed dame
from Belgravia. Her ruin is almost complete. Her population
has fled, her fields are depastured, her revenue has dwindled
down to the lowest point. Between the remnant of her peo-
ple and the horrors of another famine there stands but one
precarious harvest. If the coming summer prove unfavorable
to Irish husbandry, the population will be once more depen-
dent, to a large extent, on the bounty of outsiders.

There is no difficulty in finding the cause of this shameful
spectacle. It is described in two words — English rule.

A hundred years ago Ireland was fairly prosperous. It had
a population as numerous, or rather a little more so, than that
of to-day. It had a large share of manufacturing industry to
help its agriculture. It had its own Parliament developing the
resources of the country as no other power before or since has
attempted to do. It had a resident aristocracy spending its
money lavishly in the country. Now it has none of these
things save the agriculture. The union with England — a fatal
marriage of a verity — has swept them all away. It has reduced
her simply to beggary and helplessness, a monumental disgrace
to the rich, remorseless nation beside her, who insisted on mak-
ing herself her weaker sister's keeper.

England is now at the bar. She has been called upon to
give an account of her stewardship, and she has been proved
guilty of fraud — fraud so enormous as to take one's breath
away. Before the Royal Commission on Financial Relations,
by the mouths of such consummate masters of figures as Sir
Richard Giffen and the Accountant-General, Sir Edward Hamil-
ton, as well as other capable experts, she has been proved to
have wrung from the Irish population, for the purposes of her
government in Ireland as well as at home during the past fifty
years, a sum in excess of Ireland's just proportion of taxation
which, if capitalized, would amount to two hundred million
pounds, or a thousand million dollars !

The statement is enough to take one's breath away. It
must seem to many a huge exaggeration — a mere rhetorician's
figment. But it is nothing of the kind ; it is downright sober
truth. Its absolute accuracy has been established on oath, by
the testimony of English officials of the highest position, who
could never be suspected of any prejudice in favor of Ireland's
claims, but whose honor as English gentlemen could not sanc-
tion any evasion of the facts when called for by the assent of
Parliament.

1896.] THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. 373

PURPOSELY TANGLED ACCOUNTS.

It was not without the greatest difficulty that any inquisi-
tion was at last got to probe the matter. Many attempts had
been made in earlier years by Sir J. N. McKenna, Mr. Mitchell-
Henry, and other Irish members of Parliament, to get the gov-
ernment to assent to an inquiry into the financial relations be-
tween Great Britain and Ireland, but it was not until a couple
of years ago that any success crowned such attempts. The Irish
people owe it to the inclusion of Mr. Thomas Sexton, one of
the ablest of the Irish representatives in the personnel of the
Royal Commission, that the truth was at length dragged to the
surface. The records had been in some cases hidden away for
years, and the accounts had got into a state of almost hopeless
confusion. To what extent this prevailed may be estimated
from the fact that, in drafting the financial portion of his Home
Rule Bill, Mr. Gladstone was led into an error whereby Ireland
would have been called upon to. pay annually a vast sum
more than her proper share in the public burdens, all because
of this confusion in the mutual accounts.

The public are indebted to one of the English Liberal mem-
bers of Parliament, Mr. Thomas Lough, for a valuable commen-
tary upon the situation now created.* Mr. Lough is a justice-
loving man, apparently, and he feels keenly the disastrous effects
of his country's scandalous misgovernment of Ireland. Towards
the close he makes some practical recommendations for the
rectification of the injury inflicted upon Ireland. But he does
not go far enough in his recommendations. What difference is
there between individuals and communities or states, in the
matter of dishonest dealing ? The same moral law applies no
matter what the number of people engaged in a dishonest
transaction. When one man takes from another by force what
is that other's property, we call it robbery, and the dishonest
one is bound to expiate his crime and make full restitution if
he is able. Great Britain is more than able to repay what she
has unjustly wrung from Ireland. She is called upon to make
restitution or stand outside the pale of honest society. " Ire-
land is a nation starved in the midst of plenty." This is the
terse way in which Mr. Lough sums up the results of the Legis-
lative Union. And why is she so situated ? Simply and solely
because of her enforced connection with Great Britain. She has
always produced, especially in flocks and herds, far more than

* England's Wealth, Ireland's Poverty. By Thomas Lough, M.P. New York : G. P.
Putnam's Sons ; London : T. Fisher Unwin.

374 THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. [June,

sufficient for the material wants of her population, but these have
long ceased to feed Irish stomachs or clothe Irish backs. " Sic
vos non vobis, vellificatur oves." They cross the seas to Eng-
land's markets, and by the workings of the ingenious economic
system which England has established English ships bring back
in return Indian corn for the Irish to eat and English shoddy
wherewith to clothe them. The Irish, not relishing this mode
of exchange, would fain shake off the economists who maintain
it, but in order to prevent them, and make them bear it willy-
nilly, an English army, military and constabulary, of forty-four
thousand men is permanently maintained, and a number of
spacious jails, with judges and hangmen, are also provided, to
give a legal flavor to the oppression. For all these things, and
many more collateral ones, Ireland is called upon to pay. The
consequence is that wHile the taxation of Ireland, which amount-
ed to only nine shillings per head at the Union in 1800 — when
Ireland was in easy circumstances and well able to pay — foots
up now to a total of forty-nine shillings per capita. " The re-
sult of the whole century has been," says Mr. Lough, " that
the inhabitant of Great Britain has had his especial taxation
cut down to half, while the inhabitant of Ireland has had his-
doubled"

PITT'S FALSE PRETENCES.

In proposing the union of the legislatures to the English
House of Commons, William Pitt put forward not only high
political grounds for the change, but material and moral ones
as well. The material grounds were the advantages that must
accrue to Ireland from the introduction of English capital and
industrial energy, and the consequent increase to Irish trade
and commerce ; the moral ones, the advantages to the Irish
Catholics of having their claims to religious freedom discussed
by a Parliament remote from the scene of sectarian animosities
and actuated, as he loftily put it, by a spirit of wisdom and tol-
eration. Similar reasons were put forward in the Irish Parlia-
ment by Lord Clare and Viscount Castlereagh, but the material
argument was instantly met and refuted there by the reminder
that the aim of commercial England always had been to destroy
Irish trade, not foster it, and only too successfully so, as in
the case of the woollen industry. The Irish legislators who re-
sisted the union proposals foresaw only too plainly that the
withdrawal of the Legislature from the Irish capital must be
followed by the flight of the money, and the decline of the
many industries which the presence of a resident aristocracy

1896.] THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS.

375

and a Parliament had created there. These dismal forebodings
were realized even more swiftly than they had anticipated.
Within a couple of years after the closing of the Parliament

FAMOUS FRIENDS AND OPPONENTS OF THE UNION.

i. Duke of Leinster. 2. Lord Clare. 3. Henry Flood. 4. Henry Grattan. 5. Hussey
Burgh. 6. Hely Hutchinson. 7. Lord Charlemont.

in Dublin a vast number of its traders were bankrupt and an
immense number of mills and factories closed. " Thirty-three
years of union," remarks Sir Jonah Barrington in the introduc-
tion to his Rise and Fall of the Irish Nation, " have been thirty-
three years of beggary and disturbance"

376 THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. [June,

How the beggary came to exist has been well developed by
the Royal Commission ; why the disturbance was not more
violent than that which he had witnessed arose not from want
of will but of means.

THE REAL CAUSE OF IRELAND'S RUIN.

Many causes have been assigned by learned speculators for
the now perennial poverty of Ireland. Want of manufactures,
.some have alleged ; the absence of coal and iron has often
been pleaded, in the teeth of the fact that coal and iron are
more cheaply landed in Dublin or Belfast than in London, from
any of the great English mines. The chronic indolence of the
Irish peasant is another excuse — one of those which did not
hesitate at a wholesale slander. Some bold theorists even go
.so far as to allege that the religion of the great bulk of the
people has no small share in the responsibility, inasmuch as
the Irish Catholics observe a few holidays more than other de-
nominations do. After the evidence given before the Royal
Commission no one can blink the fact that the cause of Ire-
land's poverty is that the country is unjustly fleeced in order
to support an alien system of rule, as well as to pay for Eng-
land's wars abroad. To escape this fleecing those of her popu-
lation who can escape leave her shores in thousands annually,
throwing the burden on the ever-diminishing number at home,
staggering year by year more painfully under the ever-increas-
ing weight. Year by year, simultaneously with this flight of
the peasantry, thousands of acres of land go out of cultivation.
The abomination of desolation is widening over the land. The
•contrivers and upholders of the Union have done their work
well. They have made a desert, but they can hardly call it peace.

It is necessary, in order to gain a clear view of the pauper-
ization of Ireland, to go back a couple of years before the
date of the so-called Union. To effect this transaction, the
•darling project of William Pitt, it was necessary to resort to
extraordinary means. These means included the goading of the
country into a state of rebellion by acts of barbarity, and the
sending of English troops to suppress this rebellion on the pre-
tence that the Irish government was unable to deal with it.
Then, the Irish Parliament being hostile to the proposals of
Union, it was necessary to seek out its weakest, vainest, and
poorest members, and bribe these with money and titles, in
such number as would give a majority on the question when
it came to a final vote in Parliament. This was done, and

1896.] THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. 377

when the infamy had been accomplished the cost of the whole
enterprise was saddled upon Ireland. As Daniel O'ConnelL
remarked when exposing the transaction, it would have been
just as reasonable to ask Ireland to pay for the knife with
which Lord Castlereagh committed suicide.

THE HALCYON DAYS OF IRISH FINANCES.

Previous to the insurrection of 1798 the public debt of Ire-
land amounted to only four millions of pounds ; the suppression
of the insurrection, and the buying of placemen and others to
carry the Union, added twenty-two millions to this. Every
penny of this charge was saddled upon Ireland, in order to
give its people a lesson in the true meaning of British fair play.
The public debt of great Britain, on the other hand, was at the
date of the Union over four hundred and fifty millions. A
separate system of taxation was provided for Ireland; in order
to make it appear that she was to be exempt from the respon-
sibility of the larger debt until such time as her separate debt
had attained a certain proportion toward the British account ;.
then her taxation was to be amalgamated with that of the
rest of the kingdom. The amalgamation took place in 1817,
and the desired end had been attained by the ingenious pro-
cess of placing upon Ireland year by year a load of taxes which
no squeezing could get from the people, for the very simple
reason that they were unable to pay, and then allowing the
uncollected portion to mount up year by year as outstanding
arrears. In 1801 the Irish debt stood to that of Great Bri-
tain in the ratio of sixteen to one ; by the process described
this proportion had in seventeen years been altered to seven
and a half to one.

A FALSE RATIO OF NATIONAL REVENUE.

It is necessary to go back again before the period of the
Union to arrive at a just appreciation of the extent to which
Ireland has been swamped by that ruinous tie. Pitt and Cas-
tlereagh, in seeking for a basis for a proportional scale of taxa-
tion for Ireland, took for that purpose two abnormal years —
namely, 1799-1800. In these two years the English Exchequer
had piled on the shoulders of Ireland the whole cost of sup-
pressing the rebellion of England's own making, and of the
bribery for the purposes of the Union. This sum ran up the
public debt of Ireland from a mere bagatelle to a sum of
nearly thirty millions, and the annual payment forced from the
people for this these unprincipled statesmen seized upon as the

378 THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. [June,

normal ratio, making one audacious piece of dishonesty the
ground for perpetrating another still more injurious because
more lasting. Ireland had practically no debt until then. Her
taxation did not often exceed two millions per annum. In
order to pay off the new burdens imposed upon the country the
taxation all at once was nearly doubled, while the resources of
the people, as a direct consequence of the Union and the
rebellion, diminished at a frightful rate. The result was an
enormous deficit every year until 1817, when the piling up of
the recurring deficits had resulted in the levelling of Ireland's
public debt to the proportion whereat a junction with the
English debt had been provided for in the articles of Union.

THE FIRM OF WOLF AND LAMB.

Had the accounts remained separate, Ireland's debt at the
date of the junction could hardly have exceeded forty millions.
The amalgamation of the two exchequers capped the climax
of financial wrong-doing. Cold-blooded as Pitt was, he never
contemplated making Irish burdens more than the country
could bear ; hence his provision in the Act of Union for keep-
ing the accounts of the two countries distinct. The amalgama-
tion of the customs services was another step in the direction
of making things incurable, by so mixing up the accounts of
the two countries as to make it impossible to ascertain the
separate revenue of each. Later on — in 1853 — a gross viola-
tion of the provisions of the Union was perpetrated. The
income tax, it had been explicitly declared, should at no time
be levied upon Ireland, but in that year Parliament tore up
this stipulation and made Ireland pay her share of this tax.
Then the government began a policy of piling on duty on
whiskey which has gone on steadily ever since. This is a
method of impost which had many specious arguments in its
favor. Moralists and reformers have defended it, as tending to
diminish the consumption of alcohol ; but the result shows that
it has not in reality any such tendency. An analysis of this
branch of the subject proves that the consumption of spirits in
Ireland, per head, is little more than half that of Great Britain.
The entire consumption in Ireland amounts to only an aver-
age of a gallon per head in the year. The average cost of a
gallon of spirits in Ireland is twenty shillings, and of this sum
twelve and sixpence goes in duty to the state. An English-
man, under the same rule of taxation, pays to the state only
twopence on a gallon of beer, whereas were the test merely

1896.] THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS.

379

alcohol, and not any particular medium for it, the Englishman's
mulct would be six times the amount it now is.

It is astounding what a number of fallacies have been

FRIENDS AND OPPONENTS OF THE UNION.

i. Lord Edward Fitzgerald. 2. W. Conyngham Plunket. 3. Charles Kendal Bushe.
4. Lord Castlereagh. 5. John Egan. 6. Dr. Patrick Duignenan. 7. Lawrence Parsons.

resorted to in order to bolster up the monstrous injustice of
the system under which Ireland has been bled to death.
Decline in the population has been welcomed by many pur-
blind economists as a blessing insuring prosperity to the remain-
der. But the lesser the number of tax-payers grew the greater

380 THE UNJUST STEWARD OF THE NATIONS. [June,

became their burdens. Four millions and a half of people are
now bearing much the same load that eight millions bore half
a century ago.

BANKRUPTCY PLUS BARRACKS AND POOR-HOUSES.

Another glittering fallacy is that as nearly all the money
raised in Ireland as taxation is spent there on the support of
the army and the maintenance of military stations, the tax-
payer suffers no loss. The answer is that the army is a luxury
with which Ireland can entirely dispense. The maintenance of
forty thousand mere idlers on her soil is a thing she herself
would never dream of indulging in. It is for Great Britain's
imperial policy these men are there, and Great Britain should
in all conscience pay for their keep.

To arrive at a clear understanding of the financial position
as between Great Britain and Ireland to-day, it is not necessary
to follow Mr. Lough in all his analyses. It may give some
notion of that position to take a few leading statements. One
of the most vivid is the comparison of the respective taxable
capacities of the two countries. These are in the ratio of 15
(Ireland) to 1,092 (Great Britain), or I to 73. Yet the net re-
sult of the concurrent .taxation of the two countries for the
past ninety-five years is that the individual Irishman pays forty-
nine shillings per year now, whereas in 1800 he paid only nine
shillings ; and the individual Briton's poll-tax remains just
where it was. How enormous a sum this difference made in
the whole ninety-five years may be estimated from Mr. Lough's
calculation of two hundred million pounds as the capitalized
value of the fraudulent imposts during the past fifty years.'
For one-third of the preceding half-century the proportion of
extortionate taxation had been much higher than during any
portion of the period under his immediate purview. " If you
take the excess at two millions a year payable for ninety years
since the Union," said Mr. Murrough O'Brien, an eminent
authority, in his evidence before the Royal Commission, " with
three per cent, compound interest, it would amount to over a
thousand millions."

One stands aghast when confronted with such appalling
facts. Had this money been applied to the elevation and
development of the country, rather than to the barren task of
keeping it down and driving out its population, how different
a spectacle would Ireland and Great Britain present before the
world to-day! And what volumes of mournful tragedy speak

1896.] FREE WILL. 381

from the tabulated pages of the blue books which epitomize
this story of failure and ruin !

WILL ENGLAND MAKE AMENDS ?

There are men in England who will feel the disgrace and
shame of the revelation. But when even such Liberals as Mr.
Lough dare not propose the only adequate atonement — that is,
reparation as far as lies in the offender's power — what are we
to hope from the majority who are now in the place of the
lawgivers? Moral density and mulish obstinacy are the
characteristics of the English Tory. There is no hope of grace
or repentance in that breast of triple brass. And yet the fact
that " Banquo's in his grave " — that the generations of starved
and exiled thousands can never trouble him more — may not be
altogether an unalloyed satisfaction with him. Recent events
have shown him that there is some strange quality in the dry
bones of the banished and buried Celt capable of revivifying
their scattered particles, whenever and wherever the day of
retribution presents itself :

" Et orietur ex ossibus ultor."

Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Morley, and the other Liberal chiefs had
read the Sibylline books to some advantage ; but to Lord
Salisbury and his henchmen their pages are as unintelligible as
the handwriting on the wall to the Babylonian revellers. A
few years more, they say in their hearts, and the Irish question
will be settled as the Georgian question was settled by Russia.
But they may be deceived. The Celt dies hard. For nearly
three hundred years the predecessors of the Salisburys and the
Balfours have been trying to eradicate him in Ireland, and the
end is not yet.

FREE WILL

HE barbed crown of curs'd humanity,
The soul's dread dower —
The peerless power
To win or scorn eternal ecstasy !

MARY T. WAGGAMAN.
VOL. LXIII. — 25

382 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. LJune>

SUBJECT TO CHANGE.

BY HELEN M. SWEENEY.

'HE Empire State Express was skimming over its
well-ballasted road-bed. The telegraph poles
seemed fleeting ghosts that stretched out their
long, thin arms in an ineffectual attempt to stay
the progress of the flyer.
In a corner of the Puritan, the first of the Pullmans, sat a
young man whose twenty-five years rested lightly on his broad
shoulders. His eyes were keen and eager ; yet he saw nothing
before him while he thoughtfully bit the brown moustache that
barely covered his well-cut lip. He looked young and unfinished.
There were no lines on his face, no depth to his clear eyes,
nothing but promise in the crude grace of youth that lit up his
boyish countenance.

His thoughts were as fleeting as the telegraph poles, but
more varied. All the time, however, he was conscious of the
strong emotional undercurrent beneath the lighter subjects on
the surface. He was going to Albany with his preceptor's let-
ter to Dr. Gales, of the Albany Medical College. Though he
would not own it, even to himself, he had really seized this op-
portunity because Elsie Patmore lived but a block away from
Professor Gales, and it would not seem amiss to drop in on
her for an afternoon call.

He had it all arranged in that little theatre under his hat :
his being ushered into the dainty little reception room while
his card went up, the frou-frou of her silk skirts as she came
down the broad stairs, the look of pleased surprise and welcome
in her soft eyes as she left her hand in his for a moment longer
than was absolutely necessary, her interested questions on his
college course, her warm congratulations on his recent gradua-
tion, and then — and then — he caught sight of the woman's hand
next to him, and its contour immediately recalled Elsie's hand.
He wondered if she would be unconventional enough to forego
the regulation diamond solitaire, and wear the engagement ring
he had in his mind ; he pictured the low-lying beryl in its
Etruscan setting on that milk-white hand.

This happy, care-free youth could afford to think of rings.
His father kept his long-promised word on graduation day, and,
in the vernacular of the Clinic, "planked down a cool five

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 383

thousand." He had made arrangements with Dr. Browing, of
the Presbyterian, to take two terms of surgical service in the
hospital, blissfully unmindful of the necessity of going at once
to earn his living. "And then," his thoughts ran on, "surely
Elsie will not want a longer engagement than two years, and
what's the matter with taking her to Germany with me ? " His
thoughts were far afield. Fast as the train was flying, they out-
stripped it.

He flung his head back on his chair and tried to think of
something else. Of something else ? It was only now that he
realized how much this goal had been to him, how long the
thought of this pure, sweet girl's love had lain close to his
heart. He went over again, for the hundredth time, the cir-
cumstances of their first meeting. It had been on the Harvard
campus when she had come up to her brother's graduation.
He remembered her quiet, reposeful manner, in such marked
contrast to the chattering crowd around her. He recalled the
very dress she had worn — a. soft, crinkled, gray thing, which he,
in his masculine way, thought plain. He remembered the quiet
look of happiness in her eyes as her brother stepped down
from the platform, the most highly honored student, his de-
gree rolled tightly in his hand. He remembered — bah ! what
was the use of remembering when the stupid train crawled so.
How gracious she had been in the long delicious weeks that
followed, as their two parties had gone together through Lake
George, Lake Champlain, Montreal, Quebec, then down the St.
Lawrence, to Niagara, to New York, and then — ah, well ! she
had gone home to Albany, and he had begun to " dig for
honors " at the Vanderbilt Clinic.

He rose and stepped toward the door just as the train was
pulling into East Albany. A slowing-up over the long bridge,
a snort, a rumble, a wheezing of air-breaks, and the "flyer"
puffed into the Albany depot on time to the second.

He had not seen his divinity " for ages." Single years are
apt to be ages when brightened only occasionally by friendly
letters, and for the past three years she had been in Europe.

In half an hour he was standing on the doorstep of Miss
Patmore's home. Now that he was actually on the threshold
he hesitated. His heart began to thump violently, and twice
he bit his lip instead of his much-abused moustache. However,
he set his jaw in a dogged way he had when about to tackle
a hard subject, and pushed the button vigorously. The door
was opened instantly, and he found himself face to face with
the girl of his choice, who was on the point of going out. He

384 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

forgot his well-conned greeting, forgot everything save that he
was holding her hands in his, too happy to speak.

An hour later he went down those steps an older, sadder,
wiser man. He scarcely knew where he was going. Fortu-
nately at that moment the shriek of a locomotive sounded in
his ears, and, true to his New York habit, he made a rush for
the train. He found it to be a local and had to wait for his
half an hour. And that waiting — how dreary he found it !
Twice he laughed with the pathetic bitterness of youth in the
face of its first real disappointment ; twice he attempted to
walk off his misery, but was forced to desist ; for even in his
gloom he felt the notice his movements attracted.

" If it were only for some other reason," he sighed, and let
his thoughts slip back to the moment when she, leaving her
fingers in his, had in the sweetest, lowest tone said, "Yes, I
love you ; but — Ah, that " but " ! For, while acknowledging
that she loved him, she refused to marry him unless he became
a member of Dr. Clarkson's Church.

" Why, Elsie, I am a Catholic," he had said, with a little
stir of apprehension at the heart.

"Yes, I know; but you could change."

Never would he forget the sensation of that moment. He
had never been a practical Catholic, had never made a dis-
play of his religion, though never by word or deed denying it ;
but now he felt as though a long-barred gate had been rudely
pushed open. Flinging up his head, he had answered her once
for all.

"Change? never! My mother lived and died a Catholic.
My father became one for her sake, and, unlike most ' petti-
coat converts,' has remain a staunch son of the church to this
day. For their sakes, please God, their son will never be any-
thing else."

" I do not see your argument. If you are a Catholic only be-
cause your parents are you cannot have very strong convictions,"
she said with an arch look at his rueful face. " Why, my father
is a Baptist, but for nearly four years I have been an Episco-
palian." Then, with an abrupt change of tone, " You would
change if you really loved me."

" Elsie," he had answered, and the cold tones half-frightened
her, " I do love you, but I cannot give up my religion even
for your dear sake. Your inference was right a moment ago.
It was my way of putting it that was wrong. We are apt to
grow up to our religion, following where our parents have led ;
but I was wrong to lead you to think that because of my par-

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 385

ents' belief I am a Catholic. No, I am a Catholic because I
am convinced that in these days one must be either a Catholic
or an Agnostic. All my training, all my beliefs, all my con-
victions lead me to the Catholic Church. If my reason, how-
ever, were to tell me that yours was the right church, to-morrow
I would join you."

"Then there is nothing more to be said, Dr. Hilton," she
had said ; " I must beg that you will excuse me." And turning,
swept out of the room, dropping as she went the single heavy
rose that had been lying on her bosom. He dropped on one
knee, picked it up, and bowed his head till his lips met the
crushed flower between his fingers. A wave of pain passed
across his soul, and he tasted one of life's bitterest draughts at
that moment.

" Nothing more to be said — nothing more to be said ! " echoed
and re-echoed in his weary brain all the way up the street, and
now in his enforced quiet was burning into his very heart.

"By Jove! it's the very first time I've ever been accused of
having too much religion," he said, savagely digging his stick
into a crack in the floor; "but," and a softened look crept into
his eyes, " I cannot go back on that, Elsie or no Elsie."

That journey homeward he never forgot. If the "flyer" on
the way up had been slow to his happy heart, what was this?
Words failed him. Long years afterwards, when the bearded
man could look back with philosophic calmness on the poig-
nant griefs of youth, Dr. Hilton used to say that on that train
he travelled from inexperience to maturity — which places are
not set down on any map, but we all know where they are.

Only one thought stood out clearly from the confused ones
surging through his weary brain — work, work, work — and so
perhaps forget.

But he did not forget. He could only put the feeling down
deep in his heart, and close the inner door upon it. But often,
like a strain of half-forgotten music, the bitter-sweet pain came
over him. Whenever a woman's soft gray eyes looked into his
with pain in their depths, he thought of Elsie's eyes as he last
had seen them ; whenever a tone, a smile, a little trick of man-
ner recalled the one woman in all the world for him, a sigh
would rise to his lips, a dimness to his eyes that would not be
put down for all his iron will.

Upon his return to the city on that never-to-be-forgotten
day he went at once to his father, and told him the pitiful little
tale with a coolness and courage that did not for a moment
deceive the kind old eyes looking so searchingly into his.

386 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

" I tell you this, father, so that you will never ask me why
I do not marry. I know that many will think that my profes-
sion demands it ; but I am going to risk that and go in and
win,'" with a heavy blow of his clinched fist on the desk before
him.

"You'll do, Jack. Perhaps this is the best thing that could
have happened to you. I will not say that you should look
for another girl to be your wife, for a man's first love is apt
to be his last in our family. Years ago the same thing hap-
pened to me — now don't ! — your mother refused me twice before
she married me. But all the time — yes, all the time, she was
the one woman in all the world for me, and I won her, jack,
as you will win your sweetheart, too, some day."

" Thanks, governor " — the slang term became an endearment
on his lips — " now no more of this ; I'm going to work."

And so he did. As his father watched his career from that
time he saw the first real pain the lad had ever known leav-
ing its mark on his character, refining, strengthening, and
ennobling it. It broadened his sympathies, enlarged his view,
and redoubled the natural tenderness of the man's nature, while
it left its indelible stamp on his countenance. His father
respected his rugged self-repression, and never intruded upon
it. His bachelorhood had, as he predicted it would, a certain
influence on his practice, as popular inclination leaned toward
the married doctor. On the whole that was no great detriment,
as his was almost exclusively hospital work.

Three years afterwards his father died, just as he had been
appointed house-surgeon for the second time at the Roosevelt
Hospital.

This was his second great blow. The utmost confidence
and sympathy had always existed between father and son ever
since the frail young mother had died, leaving the three-year-
old son in the lonely, devoted arms of the father.

His father left him a large fortune entirely within his own
control, consequently he could devote more time and attention
to the study of surgery. That was his specialty, and already
his name had attracted favorable notice in the medical jour-
nals of the day, signed to well-written, logical, simple demon-
strations of the beautiful science he had made his life-study.

Thus he found himself at thirty. Grave and thoughtful, old
beyond his years, he was fast slipping into fixed habits, and
the ominous dread of change, when an episode lifted him out
of his groove and gave a new impetus to his life.

As he was wont to say, " It is the unexpected that happens."

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 387

He had made a host of friends while at college, but retained
few of them in his too-busy life. No one had been his friend,
in the sweeter significance of that word, since he had broken
with the Patmores ; Charley's place, too, having never been
filled.

There was young Dick Gattle, however, who clung to him
with a dogged perseverance that at first amused Jack, then
touched him.

He had left Harvard the summer following Jack's gradua-
tion from the College of Physicians and Surgeons.

Dick was not graduated, but that was a distinction that
made but little difference to Dick. When he reached home
his father, a retired old broker with a penchant for fragrant
Havanas and a rubber of whist, asked to see his degree.

" I didn't get a sheepskin," said Dick ; " but I got these,"
rolling up his shirt sleeves and showing the scars made by
lighted cigars being pressed into the flesh. His father recog-
nized the hall-mark of Harvard's most exclusive Greek-letter
fraternity, and was satisfied.

A few days afterwards Gattle pert asked Dick what he
intended to do.

" Going to play polo this summer," said Dick promptly.

" Of course, of course, have your fun now," was the dutiful
parent's reply ; " but have you thought of any occupation for
next winter?"

"Yes," replied Dick; "then I am going to hunt."

In due time Dick became a member of the Bounding Brook
Hunt Club ; and while looking about for hunters ran into Jack
Hilton's office one morning and found him dull and dispirited.
He was overworked, and as close to irritability as his sunny
nature would permit.

" Say, old man," rattled Dick, " come to Tattersall's with me.
Do you good. Want your advice about Skimton's Scatterbrains.
He wants fifteen hundred for him."

" I'll go. By the way, Dick, thought you were going to
Europe ? "

"So I was, but hunting's better. Ever hunt?" "No."

" Best thing in the world for you. I may not have much
of a head, but I can see with half an eye that you need build-
ing up, or vacation or something. Were you away this sum-
mer ?"

" McArthur was away all summer, and I could not leave."

"See here, Jack, that hospital will be standing a long time
after you are dead, and you'll be a long time dead. Say, tell

388 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

you what I'll do for you. I'll propose your name in the

B. B. H. C. to-morrow."

" But I don't hunt. I never saw a meet in my life."
"Your education's been neglected"; and he began to sing as

they entered Tattersall's :

"If your horse be well fed and in blooming condition,

Well up to the country and up to your weight,
Oh ! then give the reins to your youthful ambition,
Sit down in the saddle and keep his head straight."

Before the purchase of the horse was completed Jack had
determined to throw aside the weight of worry he was laboring
under, and join Dick in being young again. It would be worth
something, he thought, to feel again the fresh morning wind
blowing in his face, the bounding of a good horse under him
answering to his touch, and the cool brightness of the autumn
sunshine. That would brush the cobwebs from his brain.

He picked up for himself a clever little cob that in the end
proved a much better bargain than Scatterbrains. As for boots,
pink coats, crops, stirrups, and the rest of the trappings of a
sucoessful hunter, Dick, who was an authority on such, kept
him well up to the mark.

Dick was a good horseman, inasmuch as he could stick to
anything he could throw a leg across, but he had a tendency
to ride hard. He had read up all the hunting literature on
which he could lay his hands, but as yet had never ridden to
hounds.

That he should have an experience at his first meet was in
the nature of things ; and that he should be the unconscious
instrument in the hands of fate for his friend was in the
nature of the unexpected, and "it is the unexpected that
happens."

The Bounding Brook is the oldest and most important of
all those hunt clubs that have sprung up around New York
within the last fifteen years. It was situated in the centre of a
rolling country well timbered, with stiff post-and-rail fences ;
but more important still, from a sportsman's point of view,
were the charming country residences of many of the " smart
set " who lived in the neighborhood. This set had adopted
hunting and the pink-coated hunters as their own particular
protSgts, and though few of the women followed the hounds
on horseback, they all contrived to be in at the " death " in
every conceivable kind of a trap. The talk of the neighbor-
hood was all horse and hounds, master and the whips. The

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 389

price, pedigree, and record of every hunter could be told you,
as he carried his master into the field.

Owing to a severe drought crops were backward and hunt-
ing did not begin until October. So Dick Gattle had time to
become well acquainted in the neighborhood, and make friends
with the regulars, an operation in which he succeeded admirably.
By the time the doctor joined him he was perfectly at home
in the congenial surroundings, and wildly eager for the dawn
of the first hunting day.

It came at last ; an ideal autumn day veiled in the golden
mist of early fall. The meet was near the club-house, yet
Dick was one of the last to ride up, so anxious had he been
to perfect every detail of his hunting costume ; for like the
Spartans of old, who used to deck themselves out for their
greatest battles, Dick had put his whole heart and soul into his
first hunt toilet.

The master of the Bounding Brook hounds was a sportsman
to the tips of his fingers. It was in him to be the greatest
statesman, writer, or artist of the day, but he preferred to
devote all his talent to fox-hunting. He had hunted with
every great pack in the world, and had introduced into the
conduct of the Bounding Brook Hunt Club all the very best
theories and practices that experience could suggest or wisdom
devise. He gave the best sport attainable, and if sometimes
crusty over the misdemeanors of his followers, was very popular
and regarded as a final authority on hunting matters.

The doctor had not met the master as yet, and Dick had
met him only once ; but in the meantime each had sent in a
large subscription to the hunt, and, in consideration of that fact,,
the master was ready to accord to both the full privileges of the
club. Dick rode up to him just as he was moving off to covert.

A hound's sharp whimper proved that Scatterbrains had
stepped on him, and as the master turned angrily with " Mind
the hounds, if you please," Dick felt horribly out of place, and
realized that his overture was ill-timed. All he received in ex-
change for his greeting was, " Will you please keep back till
we throw off ? "

Dick was dreadfully put out, but forgot it the next minute
when the hounds gave cry and streamed off at a furious pace
on a scent breast-high. Dick looked around for the doctor,
but he was not in sight ; and finding himself at the head of the
field, he put Scatterbrains at the first fence, but that old
campaigner refused so suddenly as to nearly send Dick flying
over his head. Then he remembered the advice given in poli-

390 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

tical, as in hunting clubs — namely, to follow the leader. Of
course he was a stranger to the country, and could never hope
to be in among the first; so he pulled Scatterbrains to one side
and let a dozen or more pink coats precede him. Then he put
his well-named charger at the same fence and sailed over like
a bird.

He found he could hold his own, and was going along gaily
when the man in front of him suddenly shouted, " 'Ware
wire ! " and pulled his horse across Dick so as to cause a severe
carrom, which quite threw Scatterbrains out of his stride and
he refused the fence, which was wired at the top.

This unpleasant little interruption left Dick far behind ;
but seeing that the hounds had circled round to the left, he
determined to take a short cut across a big field which the
hunt had circled. It looked green and easy, and he was con-
gratulating himself on his cleverness when he became aware of
a farmer running toward him, gesticulating, pitchfork in hand,
and swearing like a trooper.

" Get off my wheat, you red-coated dude ! " yelled the

irate rustic. Dick used discretion and fled ignominiously before
the advance of the pitchfork.

The pack having been checked, he was soon up with the
field. The scent was picked up again, and Dick concluded that
there was more in hunting than the mere jumping over fences,
so he made up his mind to " lay low," like " Bre'r Rabbit,"
watch proceedings, and above all to keep out of mischief. So
he kept a field or so behind, Scatterbrains going easily and tak-
ing to his fences kindly. It was not a hard line that had been
selected for the first run of the season, and as yet there had
been no mishaps.

Now, it happened also that the drag had been laid on the
opening day with special reference to the sight-seeing proclivi-
ties of the wives and sweethearts of the hunt, and a stream of
traps had formed on a road over which the hounds had passed
in full cry. After every one had taken the two fences in full view
of the ladies' gallery the procession of carriages moved on, en-
tirely overlooking poor Dick, who presently came along at a
hard gallop to take the fence into the road.

Then did Scatterbrains perform one of those feats which
earned him his name, for as Dick, seeing the road blocked with
carriages, attempted to pull up, the brute took the bit in his
teeth and, with one of his mad rushes, cleared the fence and
landed very nearly in a two-wheeled cart in which were two of
the prettiest women of the country side.

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 391

There was one wild shriek, and every one turned instinc-
tively away from the awful accident ; but, strange to relate, no
one was killed — not even in the least Kurt.

The cart was overturned, Dick was sent flying over Scatter-
brains' head, and the women were frightened nearly into hys-
terics ; but when a dozen grooms and helpers had cleared up
things, and flasks and smelling-salts had been exchanged,
Dick rode up to try to apologize for frightening everybody
nearly to death.

It happened that he had never met Mrs. Powerton, who was
driving the cart, nor her younger sister, Miss Patmore, who was
with her, and as the former said to him, " A very rough-and-ready
introduction this, Mr. Gattle," she smiled so sweetly upon him
that he was heard to declare afterwards that he never jumped
into a better thing in his life.

Of course he was hopelessly thrown out for that day, so he
rode alongside the ladies' cart on their homeward way. He
made them laugh heartily over his numerous mishaps, while he
bowed right and left to the many smiles and nods he received
from the gaily-dressed crowd that filled the traps about him.

"I wonder where the doctor is all this time?" said Dick.

"You are sensible to carry your medical attendant into the
field with you," said Mrs. Powerton wickedly.

" Now see here, you know, don't chaff me. Dear old Jack
Hilton's the best friend I have."

" Jack Hilton ! " said Mrs. Powerton, refraining heroically
from glancing in Elsie's direction. " Is he here ? "

" Oh, yes ! In at the death, I guess ; doctors usually are.
Know him?"

" We knew him very well at one time. He was at college
with my brother Charley," said Elsie steadily. Dick saw the
faint color creep into her cheek, and thought how wonderfully
becoming a pink-faced hat-brim was to such purity of skin.
She had not lost the lovely delicacy that caused Jack to liken
her, one day, to one of Lehrmitte's pastels.

So, in a measure, Elsie was prepared for the meeting with
Doctor Hilton that evening ; while the doctor could scarcely
believe his eyes, as he glanced across the table and encountered
the clear gray eyes, the memory of whose glance had never
left his heart. A gracious recognition on her part, a bend of
his handsome head, and the years that lay between this and
their last meeting were swept away.

There was no one near to explain the sweet miracle of her
presence, and he was forced to turn his attention to the menu

392 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

lying at his plate. Most of the participants in the first day's
run had been invited by the master to dinner that evening.
Dick dreaded meeting him, but found him rather a good chap
and not the martinet he appeared in the saddle. And the
master was pleased to thank him graciously for his subscription
to the hunt, and talk very interestingly on the subject of hounds
and Lord Aylesford's coverts, and the difference between hunt-
ing in England and hunting in America, to all of which Dick
listened with profound attention and respect.

Of course the master did not rub it in to his youthful ad-
mirer by taking him to task for jumping on his hounds, rous-
ing the inflammable ire of the farmer, and violating many finer
points of hunting etiquette ; but from one or two remarks he
let fall Dick concluded that his were about the most heinous
offences that could be laid against a fellow's account.

When he decently could he took refuge with his neighbor
on his right ; and in the sunshine of Mrs. Powerton's smiles for-
got his discomforts. Two or three times he looked down the
table at the doctor, and saw him deeply engrossed in a conver-
sation on the future use of the " X ray " in the medical world.

But Dick little dreamed that under that grave exterior
Jack's heart was throbbing with love and fear and delicious
excitement.

For six years he had been longing for fate to bring about
just such a chance meeting as this. Yet he need not have
waited for the intervention of chance — as we wrongfully call it.
He had but to go to Albany and see her ; but wounded pride
and love, and a deeper feeling, fealty to his principles, had re-
strained him. And here, separated only by a mass of ferns in
their silver jardiniere, sat the girl to whom he had given all
his love and devotion. Now that his eyes rested upon the pure,
sweet face, so cool and self-possessed, he glanced backward in
dismayed astonishment at his one or two attempts to forget
her, and deeply regretted his momentary disloyalty. There had
been something pathetic in his attitude, something pitiful in his
patient waiting for his empty heart to be filled. Once, even
twice, he had shown marked interest in one of the brilliant wo-
men around him ; but always a something deterred him from
crossing the boundary line of friendship. A trick of manner
would recall Elsie's little ways, a long, steady look from cool
gray eyes would stir a nest of memories in his lonely heart, a
certain way of wearing her hair would suggest the soft white
line above Elsie's low forehead ; and, true to his professional
instincts, he diagnosed his case accurately enough when he

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 393

deemed a heart thus filled with one image an unfitting offering
to any other woman.

The hunt dinner progressed course by course to its close,
but the superb cuisine was wasted upon two people at least at
the table. The light talk and soft laughter went on around
them, but it was as if they two were on an island in mid-ocean
and these were but the sounds of the lapping waves on the
shore.

At length the master's wife glanced at Mrs. Lemington, who
smiled and nodded slightly in return, and the ladies rose and
filed slowly out of the room. As it happened, Elsie was the
last to go. Dr. Hilton stood in the doorway holding back with
his left hand the heavy silk portiere. As she approached there
was no hesitancy in her manner, no confusion in her direct
gaze. She extended her ungloved hand as warmly and frankly
as though there were no years of silence between them. But
the rose that lay upon her breast — twin sister to the brown,
discolored one lying in his pocket-book — throbbed as with life,
because of the tumultuous beating of her heart beneath it. The
doctor let the curtain fall into its place, and resumed his seat.
Saunders pushed his cigarette-case toward him and said,
" Sweet girl, that."

Jack felt that he would like to press his strong, white, sup-
ple fingers just between the two neatly-turned points of that
immaculate collar and crush the wind out of Saunders. Sweet
girl indeed !

But Saunders, in blissful ignorance of his impending fate,
flowed on.

" Somewhat eccentric, though. Lost a fortune by her change
of church."

Then, encouraged by the other's close and silent attention,
explained that two years before she had embraced Catholicity,
much against her father's wishes, who, dying shortly afterwards,
had disinherited her.

" She is living now with her sister, Mrs. Powerton, who is a
widow ; and —

"A widow!" exclaimed Dick, who had joined them. " Hea-

vens

" Why ? " laughed Saunders.

But Dick would say nothing, only sagely shake his head,
with smiling eyes. He puffed away vigorously at his cigarette,
and tried to make the others rush through their cigars and
wine, and failing in that, went up at once to join the ladies.

He felt that he was not unwelcome, though he had appar-

394 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

ently interrupted an interview between the sisters. Elsie, upon
coming upstairs, had gone at once to her sister.

" Lida, why did you not tell me Dr. Hilton was to be here
to-night ? "

Lida looked at her steadily. " I did not know it myself.
And besides, what of it ? You and he are strangers now ;
unless indeed," with the nearest approach to a sneer good
breeding would permit, " you choose to tell him that at last
you have complied with his wishes and become a Papist like
himself."

Elsie lifted her eyes, gave her a look of silent scorn, and
turned away. It was only one of a long series of fine pin-
pricks, a slow martyrdom to one whose crystal-clear conscience
held her guiltless of any but the purest of motives in her
momentous step. It had been worse even while her father
lived, for he had loved her devotedly, and his animosity was all
the more bitter for his former sweetness. All his pride in her
had turned to what was almost hate as he saw her persistent
adherence to the obnoxious " Romish creed." He did every-
thing in his power to turn her from her course, but with no
result beyond an added strength to her resolution. No one
looking at the sweet, dainty little thing would imagine the
depth of character and iron-strong will beneath the soft exter-
ior— that is, no one who had not probed her heart as Jack
had done. As he left the table where for the first time he
had heard of her conversion to his faith, and moved slowly up-
stairs, he knew with a lover's instinct that he and his impor-
tunate pleadings of six years before had had no influence over
her whatever, and his knowledge of her character forced him
to realize that conviction alone would shake her belief in the
old, and establish her in the new faith.

When he entered the drawing-room Elsie was just leaving
the piano, Dick was lolling on the sofa as near the widow as
he could get, and the rest of the company were so scattered
as to practically leave him alone with Elsie behind the tall
palms that screened the end of the piano.

" Won't you let me hear you sing again, Miss — Patmore,"
he said, with the slightest possible hesitancy on her name.

She rose, and sat down again immediately, horribly con-
scious that Lida was an expert in seeing without looking, and
finding it a relief to face anything but his deep, questioning
eyes.

" It is so long sine* we have met I fancied you had for-
gotten whether I sang or not," she said, smiling a little.

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 395

A finished coquette could not have given a better opening,
but it was pure nervousness on Elsie's part, who in the last
half-hour had learned to dread above anything an interview
with this big, quiet man who had grown in so many ways since
she had seen him last.

He did not answer her, however, but placed a sheet of
music before her. One glance at it and she felt her cheeks
burn. She had forgotten that Lida had put it among the rest
of her music. It was a little poem he and she had found one
day in an old newspaper and had set to music together.
Afterwards her father had it published ; but now, now she could
not sing it. How well she remembered that golden afternoon
on the great wide piazza of the Champlain Hotel, the glory of
the sunlight on the low hills opposite, the intensely blue lake
and sky, and the exquisite pleasure she experienced in the
growing emotion for the man beside her !

She looked up and found his eyes upon her. His look was
at once so compelling, so strong, so sweet, that she felt the
tears spring to her eyes. She had been an alien to love lately.
To let him even guess at the feeling below her calm surface
would have nearly killed her after Lida's cruel words. She
quietly put aside the opened page and put another in its place ;
but all the time she sang in her heart the words of the ten-
der little song :

" Some day you will be glad to know
That I have kept you ever in my heart,
And that my love has only deeper grown
In all the years that we have lived apart " ;

and even managed to get through the song she was singing
without any apparent break. There was nothing remarkable
about her voice ; it was just a low, sweet contralto, and the
rest of the merry crowd obligingly lowered their conversational
tones somewhat, letting her sing to the subdued murmur of
their voices. Only to one man was she a siren singing his
heart away ; but he too submitted to conventionality, and
merely thanked her for her song, and soon took his leave,
dragging off with him the unwilling Dick. Thus closed in most
prosaic fashion a chapter in two lives.

One week later Doctor Hilton was on the ocean on his way
to Germany to attend a science convention. He had written to
Elsie after the hunt dinner asking permission to call upon her,
but she had answered by such a cold, restrained little note that
he had concluded that the gleam of feeling he had seen that

396 SUBJECT TO CHANGE. [June,

night was a thought coined from his own desire, and that she
had dismissed him utterly. Then had come the sudden sum-
mons to Europe, which he had obeyed with alacrity for more
reasons than one.

Just a month after his departure Miss Patmore dropped
out of her own circle, retired from the world she knew, and
disappeared into darkest New York. She had discovered one
morning that she was not ill, nor run down, nor overtaxed,
but just mentally tired of all things — Lida and her innuendoes
particularly — and what she needed was a change of air and en-
vironment, unselfish work for others and less thought of her-
self— and she had begun to think pretty constantly of herself
of late.

She had a dim, hazy idea of joining the College Settlement,
but the inmates had seen enthusiasts like herself come and go.
She had an idea she would be sent to rfiurse the sick, and visit
the prisoners on the Island, and bring cleanliness and hope into
miserable lives ; but she found all this work admirably done by
women who understood it, and who rather resented this stylish
young lady's advent among them.

Her friends, Dick Gattle, Mrs. Lemington, the master's wife,
and the rest called it a " new fad of Elsie's," and the amount
of good she did in her voluntary exile was entirely dispropor-
tionate to her influence in her own set ; but it at least gave her
something new to think about, and afforded her a refuge from
Lida, who fiercely resented her sister's marrying the doctor.
Why, she could not have told. That he was well born, rich, as
nearly famous as so young a man could be, pleasant with all
his gravity, she acknowledged ; but deep in her heart lay the
true reason — he was a Catholic. It must have been he who had
influenced Elsie, she maintained, notwithstanding the latter's
declaration to the contrary.

Elsie was now for the first time coming in contact with life's
seamy side. Her willingness, her faithfulness and evident
desire to do all the good she could, earned the respect of her
co-laborers, and she was daily being trusted with cases that re-
quired the utmost patience and delicacy to handle.

She did not delude herself for an instant into the belief that
she was happy, or that she was doing that which pleased her
most ; but she was occupied incessantly, and that left her no
time for anything but deep, dreamless sleep at night.

A message came to her one night just after she had come
in, summoning her to go to a Mott Street tenement where a
little child was dying from some unknown disease. She found

1896.] SUBJECT TO CHANGE. 397

the patient on the top floor, stretched on two chairs in a sti-
fling room, the death-agony a-lready written on the pinched
little face. All night long she stayed, breathing the foul air ;
ignoring the facts that she had eaten nothing for hours, was
tired nearly to death before the call had come, and spending
her precious energy as only a young spendthrift in health
would. At last when, with the dawn, the tired little baby died,
she felt she could do no more. She stole quietly away, her
head throbbing, her throat aching, her hands and feet icy
cold.

The street at that early hour looked strange and unfamiliar
to her burning eyes. The pavement stretched wearily out for
miles before she came to the little room she could call her
own. She was sick. Every moment she was growing worse.
The pain in her head would soon be unbearable.

Suddenly she saw coming towards her a tall, broad-shouldered
young fellow, a man of her own class. It had scarcely entered
her dulled brain that it was Dick Gattle who was beaming on
her from out the misty rays of the early morning sunlight
when brain and heart and limbs gave way at once, and she
barely caught at his outstretched hand before she fainted.

" Well, by all that's great ! " was all Dick said ; but in less
time than it takes to tell it he had put her in a cab, and
directed the driver to make his best time between the Bowery
and Central Park West, or his fingers would never close over
the crisp bill held up to him.

At Lida's house all ill-feeling was lost sight of in the face
of Elsie's desperate condition. Cheery Dick was like a burst
of sunshine. He -did everything at once and did them well.
But, before he took possession of the reins of that stricken
little household, he telegraphed to Jack to come home at once.
Jack read the message, which ran " Elsie Patmore down with
typhoid," just as he was boarding the vessel to return to
New York. If he could have hired a balloon, a flying-machine,
anything fox speed, he would have sunk his fortune in it at
that moment. But they made what the captain called a re-
markably quick passage, though a torturingly long one to Jack.
In one week he was at Elsie's side. For weeks death and
Jack fought fiercely for the dear young life, but youth and
love were too strong a combination against disease, and three
months later the doctor, not alone, crossed again.

But that trip was all too short.
VOL. LXIII. — 26

l ALL THAT I HAVE DONE FOR THEM WOULD APPEAR LITTLE TO MY LOVE.

MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART.

BY REV. JOHN M. KIELY.

fOME years ago, in the month sacred to the
Heart of the God-man, I stood at the gates of
an unfinished Christian temple. It was an edi-
fice of grand dimensions and charming symme-
try, dedicated from its first foundations to the
Sacred Heart of Jesus. It stood on the historic heights of
Montmartre ; I looked wistfully down, that morning, on the
smokeless roofs of the yet sleeping French capital. Thought
was busy with me then ; and religious fancy naturally played
with my thoughts. But who could help thinking ? Filled with
the genius of the place ; occupied with the memory that on

1896.] MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART. 399

this very spot Loyola and his companions laid the foundation
of the great " Company of Jesus," one naturally travelled
back in spirit to the days of the church's foundation. Before
me passed in particular the religious history of France — La Bellt
France, " Eldest Daughter of the Church " — her trials and her
triumphs, her fidelities and her apostasies, her virtues and her
faults, her centuries of well-earned glory and her dark hours of
national frenzy. Yes ; here, as from a pinnacle, one looks out
on the checkered past of a noble land ; and one cannot but
discern, growing up with the national religion, walking step
by step with devo'tion to the Incarnation Itself, the gradual and
steady growth of a devotion at once ancient and new, a devo-
tion destined to shed lustre on the religious achievements of
France, a devotion which has for its object the Most Sacred
Heart of Jesus.

THE BASILICA.

It was in the year 1874 that the great Basilica of the Sa-
cred Heart was begun on Montmartre — a hill so called from the
martyrdom of St. Denis and his companions, which took place
here in the third century.* St. Genevieve raised a church for
the reception of their remains ; and in the reign of Dagobert
the relics of St. Denis were removed to the famous abbey
called after his name. The old Chapel des Martyres, at Mont-
martre, has long since disappeared. The hill is memorable even
in the military history of France ; and every army which at-
tacked Paris during the Christian era has in turn occupied the
heights of Montmartre. The hill was abandoned by Joseph
Bonaparte in 1814, and was afterward occupied by Bliicher.
The Communist insurrection began on that hill in 1871.

In March, 1873, the Archbishop of Paris, the saintly Guibert,
selected the summit of Montmartre as the site of the votive
church. It would seem providential that so unique a site was
so close at hand. Napoleon I. had selected Montmartre for
the erection of a Temple of Peace. Events, however, over
which even he had no control, frustrated his designs. And the
grand basilica stands to-day overlooking the great French me-
tropolis ; and from its terrace the archbishop, in imitation of
the Holy Father in Rome at Easter, can extend his hands in
benediction over his city and his diocese. Monsieur Thiers was
just contemplating the erection of a mighty fort on the hill
when the archbishop secured the ground.

* Tradition says that a pagan temple, sacred to Mars, stood here in pre-Christian days.

400

MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART. [June,

He built a religious rampart, more effectual than cannon-
lined walls ; and soon the National Assembly passed a resolu-
tion declaring the Montmartre basilica to be a work of national
inspiration and public usefulness.

The style is Romano-Byzantine ; the architect, M, Paul Aba-
die, since dead ; and the cost up to the present about seven
million dollars. And that great hill, the scene of so much of
France's military and religious history, is now the site of one
of the noblest structures on earth, a sacred monument erected
by the French people, and the pride of all who are devoted
to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

BLESSED MARGARET MARY.

Though the devotion to the Sacred Heart was present
with and in the church from the beginning, in its secret spirit
and in its public prayers and functions, especially as exhibited

in devotion to the Pas-
sion, it received its chief
impetus and its national
prominence from the
inspired enthusiasm of a
lowly cloistered woman,
a nun, unknown to the
world and to fame. " The
weak ones of this world "
over again ! Nor yet is
it unusual, either in the
Old Law or in the
Church, that wonders
should be wrought
through the agency of
women. Before Blessed
Margaret Mary the world
was blessed with such
women as Judith, Mary
the Mother, and Jeanne
D'Arc. Judith was in-
trepid, and her intrepidity
brought glory to her peo-
ple. Mary was sinless
and brought God to dwell amongst us. The "Maid of Or-
leans " was brave, and brought national prestige out of im-
pending disaster. And Margaret Mary Alacoque combined

SHE COMBINED WITHIN HERSELF SOME OF THE
QUALITIES OF THE THREE."

1896.] MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART. 40!

in herself in a iowly way some of the qualities of all three.
Oh ! how our hearts should exult with gladness and our lips
ring out with praise that it has been given to us to see this
day, when the children of our far-western land, in their thou-

THE GRAND BASILICA STANDS OVERLOOKING THE FRENCH METROPOLIS.

sands, bend down in adoration to the Sacred Heart of Jesus,
as they rise up to pronounce " blessed " the name and mission
of the humble Visitandine of Paray-le-Monial !

She lived in troublous times, this saintly bride of Christ —
times that formed a crisis in the history of her native land.

402 MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART. [June,

But what cared she ? What cared the cloistered spouse, whose
heart dwelt in spheres unearthly, for the things of earth
around her ? In her ascetic enthusiasm she cared little for the
trend of national influences or the intrigues of contemporary
politics. She thought not of the wars of the Fronde, just over.
She knew not, nor cared, that the astute Mazarin had just
died, leaving " the God-given " monarch to reign on the conceit
of his motto : " I am the State." Though in her life-time
figured great men, Colbert, Conde, Duquesne, Mansart ; though
Turenne was leading armies and Moliere was delighting the
drama-loving populace, and a galaxy of pulpit orators filled
the land with their eloquence, she, neglectful of all, was wrapt
up in one thought, and that divinely inspired — spread of devo-
tion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Nor thought she perhaps, except in prayer, of the religious
troubles of her native France. That land continued Catholic,
though nearly all Europe beside — England, Prussia, Germany,
Sweden, Norway, and Switzerland — had defected and torn to
pieces the seamless garment of the church's unity. She only re-
joiced that the church of France remained whole, came out of
the conflict, scathed indeed it is true, and sorely wounded, but
bearing in her heaven-directed hand the palm-branch of vic-
tory.

If this favored one, however, looked outside of herself and
her cloister at all, she might have perceived stalking through
the land a spectre which threw a gloom over the bright face
of God's church ; a spectre which kept back from God's people
God's benign sacraments ; a spectre suggestive of a gloomy
faith, a creed implying that Christ died for only a chosen pre-
destined few. It was the spectre of Jansenism, shadow of the
spectre of Protestantism. Who knows ? May it not be to
counteract these gloomy teachings that our loving Lord breathed
into the soul of his servant his desire to come closer to hu-
manity ; to diffuse through the entire world the life-giving rays
of that Sacred Heart which so loved mankind ?

" If they but made me a return, all that I have done for
them would appear little to my love. But they entertain only
coldness toward me. Do you at least give me the consolation
of supplying for their ingratitude as far as you are able."

THE DOCTRINE.

What is the doctrine of the church regarding devotion to
the Sacred Heart? This: The Sacred Heart of Jesus is to

i896.]

MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART.

403

be adored. "The sacred Humanity hypostatically united to the
Word, and all parts thereof, especially the Sacred Heart of
Jesus, are the object of divine adoration." Christ, God and
Man, is to be adored with one and the same divine adoration
in both natures. Hence the Nestorians, who introduced two
adorations, as to two separate natures and to two separate per-
sons, were condemned. So, too, were the Eutychians.

The Sacred Heart which we adore is the human heart which
the Son of God took from the substance of his immaculate
Mother, and in taking deified it ; and it is the Heart of God,
lowly and life-giving, adored with divine worship on earth and
at the right hand of the Father in heaven. It is the Heart of
the Man-God. The contradictory of this is condemned in the
bull Auctorem Fidei as false, captious, derogatory, and injurious
to the pious and true adoration as exhibited by the faithful
to the Sacred Heart of Jesus;
while " the doctrine which re-
jects the devotion of the Sacred
Heart as among those devo-
tions described as erroneous,
or at least dangerous, is false,
rash, pernicious, and offen-
sive to pious ears." It was
even urged by sectarians as
improper to adore, with the
worship of Latria, the whole
humanity when separated from
the divinity ; as if there could
be any such separation. Hence
the very bloodless Body of
Christ in the three days of
death in the tomb was ador-
able, without separation or
division from the divinity.

We adore the material
Heart of the divine Person,
Jesus Christ ; that living,
beating Heart of flesh within the breast of the Man-God ;
that Heart throbbing for the eternal welfare of the dear
ones he came to save. This devotion is directed to the
Heart of Jesus ; the Heart overflowing with love at the Last
Supper; the Heart so sad in the Garden of Olives; bursting
with grief on the Cross, pierced by the rude soldier's lance ;

FOUNDER OF THE "COMPANY OF JESUS."

404

MONTMARTRE AND THE SACRED HEART, [June.

lifeless in the sepulchre, the victim of man's cruelty and of
man's sin. In Jesus Christ, one Person, there are two natures,
both in one, inseparably united. Everything, then, that belongs

THE OLD CHAPEL DES MARTYRES.

to the Person of Jesus Christ is divine, and to be adored by
men. This is the doctrine, in brief.

To-day the Basilica of Montmartre is the great national "vow
church " of France. Pilgrimages are frequent and imposing.
Recently an association of physicians, numbering seven hun-
dred, visited the " Doctor's Chapel," and prayed for the reli-
gious future of France.

As a matter of course the Freemason body are up in oppo-
sition to the shrine. At the close of their convention last year
one of their orators said : " We solemnly promise to betake
ourselves to the heights of Montmartre, preceded by our ban-
ner and robed in our symbolical insignia, and will sing a hymn
of peace beneath the dome of that monument. We will pro-
claim there the definite downfall of the pope, the ruin of the
Jesuit body, and the triumph of free thought."

Absit ! Cor Jcsu Amantissime !

MR. GEORGE HAVEN PUTNAM has already done
good service in a particular walk of literature, in
tracing the genesis of the modern book, from the
sculptured tablet and the papyrus roll down to the
beautifully-bound, compact, and portable volume
such as we find it issuing from the press bearing his own name.
He is a most painstaking and scholarly inquirer, and appears
to have entered upon his task in the spirit of earnestness
and impartiality. Lately he gave us Authors and their Public
in Ancient Times ; as a sequel to this we now have Books and
their Makers during the Middle Ages* This volume deals with
that much misunderstood group of centuries, with their ill-de-
fined bounds, ordinarily referred to as the Dark Ages. The
darkness began with the sack of Rome in the fifth century by
Alaric and his Visigoths ; but it did not continue by any means
for so long a period as many writers would have the world be-
lieve. Mr. Putnam does not hesitate to proclaim the fact that
it was owing to the church and its " lazy monks," as the reli-
gious have been so often styled, the world has had all the clas-
sic literature we know of preserved to it. St. Benedict at Mon-
te Cassino began the work of preservation as soon as the bar-
barian at Rome had finished the work of destruction, and all
over the civilized world his great idea was taken up by the pa-
tient and loving hands of the men and women who seemed to
have been raised up specially for the preservation of grace and
civilization. With St. Benedict he associates the famous Cassio-
dorus, historian and statesman ; also the earlier Gallic litterateur
and bishop, Sidonius. Cassiodorus, in the monastery of his
foundation at Vivaria, had established the practice of copying
ancient MSS. as part of the rule of the order, as did St. Bene-
dict a little later at Monte Cassino, and the many other houses
of the Benedictine Order which sprang from that noble source.
In all of these the scriptorium was part and parcel of the mon-

* Books and their Makers during the Middle Ages. By George Haven Putnam, A.M.
New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons.

4o6 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Juner

astery and its daily life. To the two illustrious statesmen-
prelates named, Cassiodorus and Sidonius, the world is indebted
also for the only historical record of the period immediately
succeeding the wreck of the vast Roman Empire. None of the
learned laymen of the period — and they were many — could be
found self-sacrificing enough, or possessed of sufficient literary
or historical tastes, to leave posterity any memorial of the
mighty events which convulsed Europe when the deluge of
barbarism, bursting its flood-gates, swept over the plains con-
quered by the luxurious Roman civilization. Those chapters
of Mr. Putnam's work dealing with the literary modus operandi
in the monasteries first, and later in the universities, will afford
much valuable instruction. Those also in which he traces the
gradual development of the book-craft into a regular publishing
system, are full of evidence of close archaeological inquiry. The
share which the early nuns had in the production of beautiful
MSS. is not the least interesting portion of his patient inquiry.

If individuals and communities are weighed and judged by
their deeds rather than their years, the fifty years of life on
this soil which the good Sisters of Mercy are just now cele-
brating might be counted as an aeon. Their jubilee deserves
indeed the description of golden, since those years of work
were of the purest, brightest, most sterling of all offerings at
God's holiest shrine of charity. We welcome the volume in
which these labors are briefly recorded as a valuable memento
of many a past brave deed for heaven and humanity. It tells
the story of the sisterhood, since its plantation here, in a most
unpretentious and yet absorbing way. The spirit in which the
Sister of Mercy goes about her work shines all through its
pages. Vivacious, genial, smiling at privations and obstacles
endured and overcome, or to be yet encountered, it breathes
more the heart of the crusader than the reputedly weak spirit
of the gentler sex. We are confident it will be read with the
most unalloyed pleasure by the thousands who know of the
work of the noble sisterhood and would willingly help them to
carry on that work to the utmost limit of their competency.

It was the great-hearted Archbishop Hughes who originally
brought the Sisters of Mercy to New York. He knew of
their devoted work in Ireland, and he saw a still wider field
for it in the United States. In Ireland the order was not then
fourteen years old, but its fame was already world-wide. To
the mother-house in Baggot Street, Dublin, to Rev. Mother Mary

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 407

Cecilia Marmion, went the bishop, and prayed hard with her to
send him some sisters to found a house in New York. She
could do nothing but refer him to Mother Mary Agnes
O'Connor, who was then in London establishing a house of the
order there. So impressed were these two with each other
when they met that an agreement on the subject was entered
into with enthusiasm, and on the Easter Monday of 1846 Mother
Mary Agnes herself, five sisters and a novice, sailed from
Liverpool to undertake a new and heavy responsibility. On the
26th of May, in the same year, they took possession of their
temporary house in Washington Square, and this is the anni-
versary which gives date to the jubilee the sisterhood now
celebrate.

Previous to their advent a branch house had been established
in another part of the United States — namely, at Pittsburg, Pa. ;
but this was, of coursej too remote from the diocese of Arch-
bishop Hughes to be of any service to him. It was, moreover,
the branch of a branch house, and he deemed it best for his
purposes to go to the fans et origo of the charity, the mother-
house itself.

Of the work done by the sisters of the order during those
fifty years only one book could contain the record, and that
book is not kept by human but by angelic hands. In the
school-room, in the hospital, amid the pestilence, yea even
where the bolts of battle hurtled fast and thick and the
rivulets ran red with blood, have they carried out the vows
they pledged in the bloom of their fresh young maidenhood.
Work such as theirs must have been in the mind of the Lau-
reate who wrote :

" Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay."

The late Father Hecker was a close friend of the sister-
hood, and in especial of the late Mother M. Augustine
McKenna. When that lady was created superior he called to
congratulate her. On leaving, he said to her impressively, " I
am going to give you a maxim as a little guide : Monstra te
esse Matrem" And no mother ever fulfilled a treasured in-
junction more completely or conscientiously.

To Archbishop Corrigan and to Bishop Farley the sister-
hood acknowledge their gratitude most warmly. To the latter
especially, who from his position has been brought closely into
relation with them, they are attached by the ties of the sincer-
est affection. Excellent reasons why this should be so are to

408 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

be found set forth in the course of the events related in this
jubilee volume. The work, it may be added, has been most
tastefully produced by the firm of Benziger Brothers.

Whatever else may be said of Mr. F. Marion Crawford,
want of industry cannot be laid to his charge. He works dili-
gently, as one bent on improving the shining hour. The art
of the lightning-change variety actor is now imitated by this
literary worker. From the repellant romance of the dishonored
cloister to the calm atmosphere of that every-day society
wherein the divorce court is an indispensable piece of mechan-
ism, is the translation which we experience in Adam Johnstone's
Son* In other hands this might mean "out of the frying-pan
into the fire," but Mr. Crawford has attained a delicacy in the
handling of such subjects now which may be compared to the
bland art of the court physician. There are no shocks to be
encountered in this book ; everything is gently broken to the
feelings. It is saturated with a mild half-melancholy, half-
cynical philosophy of life and society, something like George
Eliot's, but minus the pleasant acridity of that profound posi-
tivist. The book has been turned out in handsome style by
the publisher. Not the least attractive part of it is the couple
of dozen half-tone drawings by A. Forestier with which it is
ornamented. These are gems of drawing and printing.

Anything relating to the tragic story of the hapless Queen
Mary Stuart commands an interest now that the malice of his-
tory toward her is being gradually exposed. The public mind
is well prepared for such a work on this theme as we just
have from the pen of the Rev. Joseph Spillman, S.J. It is in
the form of an historical romance founded on Babington's Con-
spiracy, and the main facts of which the reverend author has
derived from the work of a Protestant historian, John Hosack.
Father Spillman has given to his novel the title of The Wonder-
ful Flower of Woxindon,^ and he has adopted in its narra-
tion the antiquated phraseology, together with the use of the
first person singular in the telling of the story, in the manner
which Weyman, Crockett, and others deem the orthodox mode
for the historical gleeman. There is no prosiness in this book
—no sham philosophy or wearying platitude. It is full of
action, and gives a vivid and no doubt faithful picture of the

* Adam Johnstone's Son. By F. Marion Crawford. New York: Macmillan & Co.
t The Wonderful Flower of Woxindon. By Joseph Spillman, S.J. St. Louis, Mo. :
B. Herder.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 409

evil days wherein the lines of the unhappy Queen Mary were
cast ; also of the noble faith and constancy of the martyr-
monarch and the few who still clung to the old ship amid the
savage storm of Calvinism.

Richard Harding Davis is at his average form in a half-
dozen tales beginning with Cinderella* They are little bits of
bric-a-brac, showing a fondness for the by-paths of sentiment
in many familiar forms of city life, from chambermaids and
bootblacks up to the people who ape the ways of millionaires.
These little literary Watteaus, as we may call them, have each
a purpose, it is to be noted — generally a pessimistic one,
despite the light vein in which they are written. But readers
of this class of literature look to it more for its likelihood of
passing the time — much as court jesters were used long ago
— than for the lessons they inferentially convey, or even the
story they tell; hence Mr. Davis's latest venture ought to be
successful. A gentle cynicism is the spirit of the time, and
this is what the author strives for.

A People's Edition of the Rev. Alban Butler's Lives of the
Saints f is a valuable addition to our stock of modern literature.
The tonic effects of a little excursion into this realm are not
as yet sufficiently valued. Even those who scoff at such reading
might not repeat the vulgarity if they really knew what virtues
this great specific possesses. But to the devoted Catholic it is
especially good to read of the glorious lives and deaths of the
army of his church's saints, to sustain his faith and his courage
in the incessant and often dispiriting struggle against adverse
forces and depressing turns of human destiny. This edition
of the Lives is a very portable one, solidly bound, handy to
carry in the pocket, and although the print be small the type
is clear. It is issued in twelve parts, the idea being to divide
the issue so that each part shall contain all the saints of a
month. Part I., for January, is that which is now ready.

An admirable supplement to the Memoir of Father Dignam,
S.J., is the work descriptive of his methods for spiritual retreats.;}:
Data for this work were taken down from the late father's own

* Cinderella, and Other Stories. By Richard Harding Davis. New York : Charles
Scribner's Sons.

t People's Edition of the Lives of the Saints. By the Rev. Alban Butler. New York :
Benziger Brothers ; London : Burns & Gates.

\ Retreats given by Father Dignam, of the Society of Jesus ; with a preface by Father
Gretton, S.J. London : Burns & Gates ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

410 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

lips by his faithful chronicler and fellow-priest, Father Gretton.
In his introduction to the work the author gives us so many
touching instances of the entire devotion and self-effacement of
Father Dignam, as to convince us that no one could be better
fitted than he to lead his listeners in the illuminated path of
spiritual abstraction and the higher life. The love for the
Sacred Heart which glows throughout all his discourses was
the most conspicuous trait in this holy man's life. His medi-
tations, reflected in this collection, are full of the sublimest views
of the end of life and the relations of the soul to its Creator.
In the Introduction by Father Gretton the interest of the
reader cannot fail to be aroused by the facts with which -the
author prepares the minds of the readers for the more serious
and elevated field of thought beyond. .

A new work by the renowned Father Kneipp, of Worishofen,
is a perfect thesaurus of recipes for cures of bodily ailments.
In this volume, which he has suggestively styled My Will,* the
benevolent priest leaves to mankind all that he has learned of
medical treatment for many painful maladies during a long life
of diligent study and laborious work for the benefit of suffer-
ing humanity. Father Kneipp treats al^ forms of disease by
two simple methods only. The bath and the herb of the field
he finds to be the sovereign specifics for anything that is curable ;
and these remedies of nature he has tried in thousands of cases
with most marvellous success. His great sanitarium in Bavaria
is renowned throughout Europe, and is always thronged with
suffering subjects, high and low. Rich and poor are alike wel-
come there ; his house is open to all ; the lame beggar is re-
ceived as warmly as the aristocrat. Worishofen, as a conse-
quence, is a place thronged all the year. As many as thirty
thousand patients have been known to visit it in a single year.

Father Kneipp's knowledge in medicinal herbary is encyclo-
paedic. He has written many most useful works on this special
subject. But this his latest work, My Will, is more of a general
bequest to the mass of humanity than a guide for any particu-
lar school of science. It is a perfect treasure in a large house.

A second edition of Volume V. of M. W. R. Clark's trans-
lation of Hefele's History of the Councils of the Church has now
been published. It would seem that here1 the series was des-
tined to come to a stop, as it would appear from the editor's

* My Will : A Legacy to the Healthy and the Sick. By Sebastian Kneipp, Privy Cham-
berlain to the Pope and parish priest of Worishofen, Bavaria, New York : Joseph Schafer.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 411

preface that the earlier volumes have not attracted that wide
attention which their importance claimed. The new edition has
had much valuable matter interpolated or added. The most
considerable of these alterations occur with reference to the
sections of the work referring to Pope Honorius and the Mono-
thelite heresy. A vivid picture of the many distracting contro-
versies which rent the early church before the great points at
issue had been definitively and authoritatively settled is obtaina-
ble from this scholarly work. It will be seen, from the keen-
ness of the analyses and the impartiality with which the various
aspects of each controversial topic is presented, that the repu-
tation which Tubingen has acquired as a centre of learning
rests upon solid ground. The present volume deals with all
the transactions of the various synods and councils, East and
West, from A. D. 626 to A. D. 787.

In the sacred ministry the encouragement and solace of
poetry may not be lightly disregarded. Whilst the priest's office
makes him stand apart from his fellow-men, his human soul is
no less susceptible of the soothing influences which noble poetry
brings than other mortals' ; and in truth the continuous exercise
of the duties of that office makes his need for such extraneous
support frequently greater than that of those who toil in mun-
dane fields. The sacred office itself has furnished the theme
for many sublime songs, and it is a good service which the
editor of Lyra Hieratica* has rendered in collecting the best
of these poems in one volume as a help for both clergy and
laity. Especially in the case of young men preparing for the
priesthood will this work be useful, for much of the study
through which they must go is of a character so seemingly
hard and repellant that it needs the warmth of loftier lines of
thought to brighten it up. Father Bridgett has made his selec-
tions from a great number of authors ; yet his own is no 'pren-
tice's hand when it touches the magic lyre, and he has enabled
us to judge of it by the insertion of some half-dozen poems
on great priests and thoughts connected with the priesthood,
his own composition. One of these morceaux crystallizes his
thoughts very aptly. He calls it " Archimedes' Fulcrum " :

" ' Give me a resting-place beyond earth's sphere,
Then from its place earth's mighty bulk I'll rear' :

* Lyra Hieratica: Poems on the Prfesthood. Collected by Rev. T. E. Bridgett, of the
Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. London : Burns & Gates ; New York : Ben-
ziger Brothers.

412 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

What Archimedes asked to thee is given,

O Christian priest ! to raise the world to heaven.

That spot unearthly is Christ's altar-stone :

Place there thy levers — men thy power will own."

Vol. VII. of Pepys1 Diary* is now to hand. It is embellished
by some good plates, including a mezzotint of Lely's portrait
of Lord Brouncker, and another of Pepys' quaint little house
at Brampton.

Of essays upon Homer f we fail to remember the time when
there was a lack ; and still, so unfailing is the fountain of sug-
gestion which springs from that immortal source, we are un-
conscious of satiety when any ingenious new interpreter claims
our ear. We can read with pleasure and profit the essays on
the Homeric poems which Mr. William C. Lawton delivered a
short time ago for the University Extension Society of America.
To those who have never read Homer they will be persuasive
to begin the study ; those who know the poet's work wholly or
partly will derive much help from such a scholarly and dis-
criminating cicerone. In the preface to the little volume the
author treats with judgment upon the want of a good English
translation of the Greek text, and the difficulties in the way
of those who would attempt a poetical one, owing to the length
of the Homeric line and the want of inflexional endings in the
English language. There is perhaps more made of this .diffi-
culty than it really demands. Dante's great work might have
seemed as formidable a task for the transformer of poetical
raiment, until Gary's fine rendering solved the problem — at least
to our thinking, as far as it can be solved. The adapter, like
the poet, is born, not made ; and the natal hour of Homer's
adapter has not as yet, it seems, struck.

It is hardly beneficial to get a peep into the inner life of
M. Ernest Renan. Such a glimpse is given us in the posthu-
mous Memoir and Letters:}: now published as translated by Lady
Mary Loyd. If M. Renan had given us a close narrative of
the mental processes by which his belief in revealed religion
was destroyed some interest must naturally have been aroused,

* The Diary of Samuel Pepys, M.A., F.R.S. New York and London : George Bell
& Sons.

t Art and Humanity in Homer. By William Cranston Lawton. New York and
London : Macmillan & Co.

\ Brother and Sister : A Memoir and the Letters of Ernest and Henriette Renan.
Translated by Lady Mary Loyd. New York : Macmillan & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 413

if only because of the literary reputation of the author. But
he does not ; neither does he reveal the reasoning which led
his sister Henriette to abandon her fervent Breton faith for his
indefinite and contradictory form of deism. A paradoxical
character, even more so than himself, Henriette Renan appears
to have been, judging from these unsolicited revelations. A
gentle, loving creature, too, who made great sacrifices for her
brother. But is it the best of taste to give to the public such
particulars of family life, such disclosures of domestic feelings,
as we find here ? The facts of the case do not warrant it ; a
modest soul would shrink from it. The French mind is cred-
ited with excellent taste ; it is only in trivialities it is shown, in
such cases ; in great matters, it appears, the most glaring breaches
of decorum can be made, without exciting much comment.

As a literary composition this work stands high ; but it is
at times full of that exaggerated and often artificial sentimen-
tality which is a pre-eminently Gallic characteristic.

The very admirable series of Summer-School books now
being issued by the Chicago firm of McBride & Co. are
eminently worthy the attention of students everywhere. In Vol.
i. we have " Buddhism and Christianity " (Mgr. d'Harlez),
" Christian Science and Faith-Cure " (Dr. T. P. Hart), " Growth
of Reading Circles" (Rev. T. McMillan, C.S.P.), "Reading Circle
Work" (Rev. W. J. Dalton), "Church Music" (Rev. R. Fuhr,
O.S.F.), "Catholic Literary Societies" (Miss K. E. Conway),
" Historical Criticism " (Rev. P. C. De Smedt, S.J.) Volume ii.
of the set is also ready. It embraces five essays, on such
diverse subjects as " The Spanish Inquisition " (Rev. J. F.
Nugent), "Savonarola" (Conde B. Fallen, Ph.D.), "Joan of
Arc " (J. W. Wilstach), " Magna Charta " (Professor Swing), and
" Missionary Explorers of the North-west " (Judge W. L.
Kelly). Father Nugent's paper on the Inquisition is valuable
in the extreme because of its candor and its impartiality. The
spirit in which he has approached his difficult subject is well
summed up in his own words : " No man should proceed to
write history who has a case to make out." He has no case
to make out, but a moral to draw ; and that moral is, it is not
the privilege of any age to sit in judgment on the acts of a
past one without taking into account the universal spirit of the
time and the peculiar conditions which prompted to such acts.
As for the church outside Spain, it is well known that it did
its best to restrain the Spanish Inquisition, and gave no example
VOL. LXIII.— 27

4H TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

itself in its methods of dealing with recalcitrants. The Messrs.
McBride are doing excellent work in publishing these Summer-
School essays. Each volume is neatly printed and its binding
is solid and tasteful. For the style in which the work is pro-
duced, the price of fifty cents each volume is decidedly rea-
sonable.

I. — CENTENARY HISTORY OF MAYNOOTH.*

It was eminently fitting that such a memorable celebration
as that of the centenary of Maynooth College should have a
permanent chronicle commensurate to the interest and dignity
of the theme. The bishops of Ireland were unanimous, we
believe, in deciding that the task of historian would be most
worthily fulfilled by Most Rev. Dr. Healy, coadjutor bishop of
Clonfert (and titular bishop of Macra). Dr. Healy's rank as a
scholar is high, but, like many other men of true scholarly
attainments, his modesty is such that very little is ever heard
in the outside world concerning them. But his venerable
brethren in the hierarchy know his worth, and this fine monu-
ment of his learning and industry vindicates their selection.
A handsome quarto volume of nearly eight hundred pages,
splendidly typed, embellished, and bound, is now the outcome
of the commission. When we glance rapidly over this work,
and find the elaborate mass of facts and names and multitudin-
ous administrative details with which it abounds, coming in
course after the profound literary work which comprises the
history proper, and then consider that all this was put together
by the distinguished author within the space of eight months —
all the time placed at his disposal for the completion of the
memorial — we do not think it hyperbole to say it establishes a
record in book-making. The historical survey of the state of
religion and learning in Ireland, under the penal laws, indispen-
sable to such a work, is most valuable. It has necessarily taken
the author over a vast field. He has been obliged to trace the
history of Catholic education for Ireland in the colleges of
Spain, France, and Belgium — and this not in any mere cursory
way, but shedding upon the subject all the light which the
most diligent search into the mass of historical materials con-
nected with the various establishments in those countries enabled
him to acquire.

* Maynooth College: Its Centenary History. By the Most Rev. John Healy, D.D.,
LL.D., M.R.I.A. Dublin : Brown & Nolan, Ltd.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 415

A vast number of plates, including some rare portraits of
Irish bishops and priests of the penal times, are embraced in
the volume. The binding is in sea-green cloth with a heavy
morocco backing. It reflects high credit upon Irish handicraft
to have so fine a work to point to in these days of perfect
book-making in countries of better equipment.

A Centenary Album is also issued by the same firm. This
comprises all the plates given in the larger work, as well as
the centenary ode, delivered at the opening ceremony, from the
pen of one of the theological students, W. A. O'Byrne — a very
stately example of the lyric art.

2. — WASHINGTON GLADDEN'S LATEST BOOK.*

This little book is the essay to which was awarded the
Fletcher prize of Dartmouth College, for 1894. It is a discus-
sion of some of the ruling ideas of the age from the Christian
stand-point ; an effort to ascertain the relation of Christianity
to some of the problems of modern life. It is a stimulating
and instructive piece of writing, and characterized throughout
by good sense.

The character of the book may be indicated by the titles of
some of the chapters. Some of the best parts of the book are
to be found in the chapters on The Sacred and the Secular,
The Law of Property, Religion and Politics, Public Opinion.
Dr. Gladden is well known for his strenuous insistence on the
duties of Christian citizenship. His chapter on Religion and
Politics is an admirable exposition of how the Christian law
obliges a man to fulfil his social and political duties. It is
suggestive also, in so far as it shows the influence that a
Christian minister may exert in promoting these ends, and it
shows also how such influence may be exercised so as to ac-
complish good results. He speaks of the dangers that come
from neglect of the duties of citizenship, and of the disastrous
results that must come if the moral sense is deadened in re-
gard to such duties. His conclusion contains a truth which
cannot too often be repeated these days : " There is no salva-
tion for this land of ours from the rising flood of factional
strife and corporate greed which threatens to engulf our
liberties, save in the heightened sense of the sacredness of the
vocation with which every citizen is called" (p. 183).

* Ruling Ideas of the Present Age. By Washington Gladden. Pp. 299. New York
and Boston : Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

THE tale, "A Saint," which we publish, appears
here by express permission of the author, M. Paul
Bourget, given in a courteous note to the editor.
The translation has been made by an accomplished hand.

A marvellous record has been made by Rev. Father Searle's
book, Plain Facts for Fair Minds. It is only a few months
since it was first given to the world, and the last edition issued
from the press indicated that it marked the printing of the
1 53d thousand. We believe this success to be, in the records of
religious literature, phenomenal.

* —

The friends of peace have much reason to be hopeful for a
new spirit in man, from the many declarations in favor of
arbitration which recent disturbing events have elicited. A
vary impressive declaration in favor of a peace policy as be-
tween civilized nations has just been made by the three great
representative cardinals of the English-speaking countries — Car-
dinal Gibbons, Cardinal Logue, and Cardinal Vaughan. This
memorial, in pleading for the substitution of a permanent tri-
bunal of arbitration for the ultima ratio regum, voices the con-
sistent policy of the Catholic Church. During the ages when
there were no sectarian differences to set people against each
other, the quarrels of kings and princes were often peaceably
adjusted by the Holy Father, after a careful hearing of the op-
posing equities. In no task was the august figure of the Sov-
ereign Pontiff more gracefully beheld than that of peacemaker
and umpire. But if in these later days non-Catholic nations
may not be willing to invoke the services of the Holy Father
in this sublime rdle, it is still feasible to establish an arbitra-
tion tribunal for the settlement of international disputes, as
we have seen demonstrated at Geneva. War means nothing
but a relapse into barbarism ; arbitration the reign of common
sense and the spirit of justice.

There are two great measures now before the English Par-
liament. One is a new Irish Land Bill ; the other a new Edu-

1896.] EDITORIAL NOTES. 417

cation Bill for England. So great is the magnitude and the
complexity of these two important proposals, that it is feared
only one of them can pass through Parliament this year. The
attempt to pass both may result in the loss of one, at least.

Of the Irish Land Bill it may be said, briefly, that it is
drawn more in the interest of the landlords than the tenants ;
that its principle acknowledges that the judicial rents fixed
in the past few years have been fixed too high, and yet it pro-
vides no machinery by which they may be reduced for the
vast body of the Irish agriculturists. About two hundred
thousand of these will be obliged, therefore, to continue pay-
ing rent that the soil does not yield for several years to come,
so far as this bill is concerned. Hence the bill has been re-
ceived with profound dissatisfaction by the great bulk of the
Irish farmers.

The Education Bill, on the other hand, while arousing a
storm of indignation among the secularist party, has been hailed
by the Catholics and others who desire religion not to be
divorced from education as a great step in the right direction.
It embodies the all-important principle of recognition of the
parents' right to a voice in their children's education. This is
the only recommendation it possesses, however, in Catholic
eyes. Its scope and provisions have been carefully consid-
ered by the English Catholic bishops, under the presidency
of Cardinal Vaughan, and the judgment of the distinguished
body is set forth in a series of five declarations embodying
recommendations for the emendation of the bill. The preamble
to the protest contains one statement whose gravity cannot be
over-estimated. From the results which are already observable,
the venerable signatories to the manifesto have no hesitation
in stating their profound conviction that if the present system
of secular School Board education were to continue in Eng-
land, another quarter of a century must almost complete the
dechristianizing of the great bulk of the English people. To
such an extent has the spirit of heathendom already permeated
the teaching machinery of the country that the whole work of
St. Augustine is well-nigh undone.

But the bill, while an advance on previous legislation in some
respects, does not make matters much better for Catholics than

4i'8 EDITORIAL NOTES. [June,

before. While laying down the principle that liberty of con-
science is sacred, and that it is the right of the parents to have
their children educated according to that principle, it refuses
to give to Catholics even elementary education upon the same
terms as it grants to Board Schools. Therefore the bishops
condemn it as unjust and as stultifying the government's own
proposition. The aid which it gives to voluntary schools
belonging to other denominations is in marked contrast, in
point of liberality, with the grudging relief it affords to the
hard-struggling Catholic parochial schools. A committee of
Catholics has been formed to emphasize the bishops' objections
and strive for the improvement of the bill. The Catholic
Truth Society has also thrown itself into the work with great
alacrity. But the enemies of religious education are no less
active, and the whole country is now being aroused over the
question in a way such as no internal controversy has provoked
in England during the present generation.

Very generous tributes were paid to the memory of Father
Marquette by several members of the United States Senate on
the occasion of the acceptance of Wisconsin's statue of the
great explorer. This would certainly have been the reception
accorded it under any circumstances ; yet it is not unreasonable
to believe that an added warmth was given the proceedings by
the resentment felt at the action of the pitiful creatures who
endeavored to raise a clamor about a priest's statue being given
an honored place in the nation's Valhalla. It would be a sor-
rowful augury for our future were our public men in high
places to suffer themselves to be cowed by a few shouting speci-
mens of the genus popularly known as scalawag. When men
prove themselves unable to discern the claims of genius, bravery,
and devotion to humanity for the love of God, they have
proved that American institutions and American history have
no lessons for them. This is no age and no country for them,
and they had better go home.

1896.] WHAT THE THIA'KERS SAY. 419

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

A RUSSIAN SOLUTION OF THE UNEMPLOYED
QUESTION.

(From the Review of Reviews.)

IF Western civilization has much to teach Russia, it can at the same time
with great advantage go to school of the Russian nation. To most of us Russia
is an unexplored country possessing many of the terrors of the unknown. But
the more we study the real Russia, and not merely judge the whole country by a
superficial view- of the surface, the more we will see that there are many things
which we might well take to heart. An example of this is to be found in the
January number of the Sevyerni Vyestnik, in which Dr. A. Isayeff, one of the
first political economists in Russia, draws a comparison between the present labor
conditions in America and Western Europe and those now existing in Russia,
much to the advantage of the latter.

The professor sums up the deplorable tendencies of capitalism toward self-
aggrandizement at the expense of labor as seen in foreign countries, and con-
cludes that the Russian labor system (Artyel) affords an effective safeguard
against the development of similar conditions in Russia. By this system the
laborer is equally workman, master, and shareholder. For instance, suppose the
order to build a house is given. An Artyel is at once formed of bricklayers,
painters, carpenters, etc. — as many as are required — each of whom deposits in a
common fund a certain and equal sum of money which represents his share. This
sum may vary from one shilling upward, according to the cost of material, size of
house, etc. An honorary manager is then elected from among the workmen by
vote, and this manager is invested with the power to carry out all sales, pur-
chases, etc. Of these he has to render an account to the general body. When
the work is completed and paid for, ihe profits are equally divided and the work-
men separate to form new Artyels. The result of this system is that the Russian
workman sees that by being industrious and by practising strict economy he will
be able to save money, and then either to buy land or set up in trade and employ
Artyels on his own account. Finally, as the workmen when so engaged all live
together at the common expense, all have a general interest in keeping expenses
down as low as possible, as the profits will be then all the greater.

Besides this, every peasant who is a member of the village commune has an
interest in a plot of land, originally reserved for his benefit by the state, and which
it is forbidden him to dispose of. The Russian unemployed, therefore, can always
fall back on this as a last resource, and hence it is impossible for him to be re-
duced to that state of utter penury and wretchedness which is only too often seen
among the unemployed in other countries. The Russian government has recent-
ly given, and is still giving, much study to the conditions of labor in the country,
and by the introduction of new factory laws for the protection of workmen, systems
of life insurance, etc., is doing very much to ameliorate the condition of the work-
ing classes.

420 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [June,

The Russian aristocracy, inasmuch as they generally hold aloof from all com-
mercial enterprise and study of the lower classes, cannot be accounted as a civil-
izing factor in the Russia of to-day, although tkere are many individual members
who devote their lives and fortunes to the betterment of the people.

Dr. Isayeff concludes that the present conditions of Russian labor are far
more favorable than those existing in Western Europe and America, and express-
es his conviction that Russia will be able to afford a satisfactory solution of a
question which is now embarrassing so many foreign states, wherein the govern-
ments are quite powerless to introduce measures for the protection of labor
against capital.

(From the Literary Digest?)

A RECENT issue of the Berlin Tageblatt contains a correspondence from St.
Petersburg giving an interesting account of the social condition in Russia, especi-
ally the relation of employee to employer. The report may perhaps be some-
what rosily colored, but for all that it is good reading. The account is in sub-
stance the following :

During the past season there have been labor troubles in some of the factor-
ies in various parts of Russia, some of which have been marked by violence.
The careful examinations made by the government in all these cases have brought
out the fact that there is in Russia no decided and pronounced class opposition
between the working-man and the employer such as is found in Western Europe
in consequence of the agitation of the socialist-democratic party. In Russia this
party has practically no existence, and the labor troubles in question in these
factories were in nearly all cases caused by differences of lesser importance, which
could have been removed by a little attention on the part of the employers. To a
small extent only the troubles were occasioned by the manufacturer having insuffi-
ciently paid the laborers, and having permitted their subordinates to abuse their
privileges over against the- working-men. In consequence of this it has been
determined to direct all subordinate officials in these factories to cultivate " that
good-natured and hearty relationship toward the working-men which is charac-
teristic of the Russian people," and the factory inspectors have been ordered to
see that this mandate is carried out. They are to make it a chief concern that
the employers use their employees in a just and fair manner and thereby secure
their confidence, which will then do away with the danger of the repetition of
these troubles. As the finance minister of the empire has determined that the
officials in charge of the factories shall carry out the spirit of these directions, the
state officials express the hope that the industrial circles of Russia will be spared
that class animosity between the working-man and his employer which causes so
much trouble elsewhere. The purpose is to establish the relationship between
the two classes on moral and ethical bases, and not merely upon that of supply
and demand.

CATHOLICS AND HIGHER STUDIES.

(From the Liverpool Catholic Times.)

THE notion born of anti-Papal prejudice, that the universities were at the out-
set a sort of lay revolt against ecclesiastical predominance is at variance with too
many facts to bear close examination. These institutions still show so many

1896.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 421

marks of the influence exercised upon them during their early careers by the
clergy and the Head of the church that it is impossible to hide the source from
which they received their early inspiration and strength. Whilst the " Reforma-
tion " lowered the level of intellectual culture at Oxford and Cambridge, the higher
education of the Catholic clergy was effectively provided for at Douai, Rome,
Valladolid, Seville, St. Omer, and elsewhere on the Continent, the students receiv-
ing their training from professors of marked ability and distinction. The prac-
tical mind of his Eminence Cardinal Vaughan recognized the disadvantages
resulting from the multiplication of diocesan seminaries, and on his becoming
metropolitan he began, with the approbation of the Pope, a work of concentration
for the midland and southern parts of the country, the Hammersmith seminary
being abolished and the students transferred to the central college at Oscott, the
Bishop of Clifton also disposing of Prior Park and taking a similar step with
regard to the students. Much has been done to raise the standard of studies,
" but," remarks Dr. Casartelli, " it must be acknowledged that there are serious
deficiencies (de graves lacunes) in the higher teaching of the English clergy.
Indeed, to tell the truth, higher studies, properly so called, do not yet exist. I
refer to the study of historical criticism, archasological research, diplomacy, Bibli-
cal criticism, Oriental languages, the comparative history of religions, psycho-
physiology, and other branches of deep study such as are taught, for instance, at
the Institute of St. Thomas, Louvain, and elsewhere." In our opinion, as a
general proposition this statement of Dr. Casartelli cannot be disputed. We
have, as he says, half-a-dozen men or more who are highly distinguished as
savants, especially in historical science, but it must, we fear, be admitted that our
colleges are not likely sensibly to increase the number of such scholars.

The suggestion Dr. Casartelli makes with the view of insuring an improve-
ment in the higher studies of ecclesiastics is that at least the more brilliant
amongst them should, as well as the laity, have the opportunity of frequenting the
universities. In this way they would have access to " the sources of the best
intellectual culture, and would possess the advantages afforded by great academic
centres, with their atmosphere of deep study and research, their libraries of
precious manuscripts, and all the appliances of higher teaching." In other coun-
tries Catholics are equipped or equipping themselves for the purpose of taking the
lead. We are convinced, with Dr. Casartelli, that the question is an exceedingly
serious one for the future of the Catholic Church in England.

ERRORS IN CARLYLE'S "FRENCH REVOLUTION."

(From the Literary Digest.)

QUITE a formidable list of mistakes as to fact in Carlyle's "French Revolu-
tion " is submitted in an article by Mr. J. G. Alger in The Westminster Review for
January. Speaking of the lack of facilities for the composition of such a work
sixty years ago, Mr. Alger says that even had the facilities been greater, Carlyle
would perhaps have refused to sift the rubbish-heaps; for on July 24, 1836, when
nearing the end of his task, he wrote to his wife : " It all stands pretty fair in my
head, nor do I mean to investigate much more about it, but to plash down what I
know in large masses of colors, that it may look like a smoke-and-flame conflagra-
tion in the distance, which it is." Mr. Alger thinks that Carlyle's conception of
the Revolution would not have been modified by further evidence, and that the

422 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. LJune>

work itself will never lose value. It was not, he says, in Carlyle's temperament
to revise subsequent editions of his books. From a man in whom, as in primitive
times, priest, poet, and historian were blended, we cannot expect studious watch
for corrections. Carlyle's books are said to have always made him ill, conse-
quently when once finished he thought no more of them. A book with him was
the eruption of a volcano' — once active, thenceforth at rest. Mr. Alger regrets
that Carlyle did not keep his work posted up to date, nor pay any attention to the
deluge of publications on the Revolution which was going on during the latter
part of his lifetime. " But," says he, " Carlyle was a seer, not an antiquary, and
some inaccuracies do not prevent his book from being a classic. Just because it
is a classic, however, it should now be edited."

Among the " less excusable " mistakes of Carlyle the following are noted :
" At the opening of the States-General he makes the procession go from St.
Louis Church to Notre Dame, whereas it went from Notre Dame to St. Louis,
where La Fare, Bishop of Nancy, after drawing an exaggerated picture of the
oppression of the peasantry, turning to the monarch, exclaimed, ' And all this is
done in the name of the best of kings,' whereat the expected plaudits resounded.
The nobles did not at that ceremony wear 'bright-dyed cloaks of velvet,' but
black ones, to match their black coats, vests, and breeches. The cardinals alone,
and there could have been only three, wore red copes, the other prelates having
rochets and purple mantles. It is a slight matter, but Paris was not divided in
1789 into forty-eight districts, but into sixty; on the subsequent division into
sections, however, there were forty-eight. Nor did Fouquier Tinville notify sen-
tence of death to Lamourette or any other prisoner, for he was not judge, but
public prosecutor. Mme. de Buffon, Egalite's mistress, was not the ' light wife of
a great naturalist too old for her,' nor even the widow, but the daughter-in-
law. . . .

" Carlyle probably died without any consciousness of his gravest mistake, his
account of the king's flight to Varennes. It was not till March, 1886, that Mr.
Oscar Browning, who in the previous autumn had been over the ground, showed,
in a paper read before the Royal Historical Society, that the account, while a
' very vivid picture of the affair as it occurred, in its broad outlines consistent with
the truth,' was ' in almost every detail inexact,' almost every statement false or
exaggerated.' Carlyle's cardinal blunder was that he took the distance from Paris
to Varennes to be only sixty-seven miles, whereas it is one hundred and fifty. I
should imagine that he confused Varennes-en-Argonne with Varennes-Jaulgonne,
a village not lying far off the route now sixty-six miles by rail. From this blunder
flowed a whole catalogue of errors."

BISHOP POTTER ON THE DANGERS OF THE TIME.

IN an address delivered at the dedication of Grace Chapel, New York City,
Bishop Potter said :

" The growth of wealth and of luxury, wicked, wasteful, and wanton, as before
God I declare that luxury to be, has been matched step by step by a deepening
and deadening poverty which has left whole neighborhoods of people practically
without hope and without aspiration. At such a time, for the church of God to
sit still and be content with theories of its duty outlawed by time and long ago
demonstrated to be grotesquely inadequate to the demands of a living situation,
this is to deserve the scorn of men and the curse of God ! Take my word for it,

1896.] NEW BOOKS. 423

men and brethren, unless you and I, and all those who have any gift or steward-
ship of talents, or means, of whatever sort, are willing to get up out of our sloth
and ease and selfish dilettanteism of service, and get down among the people who
are battling amid their poverty and ignorance — young girls for their chastity,
young men for their better ideal of righteousness, old and young alike for one
clear ray of the immortal courage and the immortal hope — then verily the church
in its stately splendor, its apostolic orders, its venerable ritual, its decorous and
dignified conventions, is revealed as simply a monstrous and insolent imperti-
nence ! "

^ *

NEW BOOKS.

OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY, Chicago :

The Gospel of Buddha. By Paul Carus. Fourth Edition. On Memory and
the Specific Energies of the Nervous System. By Professor Ewald Hering.
The Psychology of Attention. By Th. Ribot. Three Lectures on the
Science of Language. By Professor Max Miiller. The Religion of Sci-
ence. By Paul Carus. Second Edition. The Primary Factors of Organic
Evolution. By E. D. Cope, Ph.D.
P. LETHIELLEUX, 10 Rue Cassette, Paris:

Voltaire et Le Voltairianisme. By M. Nourisson, Member of the Institute.
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & Co., London :

The Monastic Life, from the Fathers of the Desert to Charlemagne. (Eighth
vol. of The Formation of Christendom^) By Thomas W. Allies, K.C.S.G.
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York :

A History of the Jewish People. By Charles Foster Kent, Ph.D. The

Jewish Scriptures. By Amos Kidder Fiske.
FR. PUSTET & Co., New York and Cincinnati :

A Christian Apology. By Paul Schauz, D.D., Ph.D. Translated by Rev.

Michael F. Glancey, D.D. (3 vols.)
JOHN MURPHY & Co., Baltimore:

Jack Chumleigh ; or, Friends and Foes. By Maurice F. Egan.
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York :

Month of May at Mary's Altar. From the French, by Rev. Thomas F.
Ward. Jestts : His Life in the Very Words of the Four Gospels. A Dia-
tessaron. By Rev. Henry Beauclerk, S.J. Conscience and Law ; or,
Principles of Human Conduct. By Rev. William Humphrey, S.J.
Memoir of Mother Mary Columbus Adams, O.P. By Right Rev. W. R.
Brownlow, D.D., Bishop of Clifton. The Imitation of the Sacred Heart
of Jesus. By Rev. F. Arnoudt, S.J. New Edition. Spiritual Bouquet.

NEW PAMPHLETS.

Germanization and Americanism Compared. By Charles F. St. Laurent.

C. F. St. Laurent, Montreal.

Chinch Social Union Publications: American Trade Unions. By Rev. W.

D. P. Bliss. Legality and Property of Labor Organizations. By Richard
Olney, Attorney-General of the United States.

THE NEW YORK ASSOCIATION FOR IMPROVING THE CONDITION OF THE

POOR:
Agricultural Conditions and Needs.

424 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

"[^REPARATIONS are now almost completed for the fifth session of the Cath-
JT olic Summer-School on Lake Champlain. Regular lectures will begin July
12 and extend to August 16. Apart from the intellectual attractions the Summer-
School affords an ideal place for vacation. Its location is superb. Every portion of
its property commands beautiful views of the enchanting Lake Champlain, the ma-
jestic Adirondack Mountains, and the historic Green Mountains in Vermont. It is
easily accessible from New York and from the principal larger cities. It affords
every opportunity for rest and healthful recreation of all kinds — boating, fishing,
bathing, walking, riding, driving, mountain-climbing — and gives to the lover of
nature an opportunity of viewing some of the most beautiful scenes in this country.
Moreover, Catholics can there meet delightful people, many celebrities in intel-
lectual pursuits and dignitaries of the ecclesiastical world. They can own their
summer homes and build cottages or palaces according to their tastes and means,
and thus they will have the privilege of building up a Catholic settlement which
is sure to exert a potent influence on the welfare of the church in this country.

The success which has attended the past sessions of the Summer-School on
Lake Champlain, and the approbation it has won from many eminent prelates,
joined to the significant fact that it has received the special blessing of our Holy
Father Pope Leo XIII., in a letter sent to Cardinal Satolli, augur well for its con-
tinued prosperity. It has already become a factor to be reckoned among the
Catholic influences at work in this country. The increased interest in Catholic
literature, of which many evidences have been given during the past few years ;
the public courses of lectures delivered in various cities ; the recognition now ac-
corded to the solid work accomplished by Catholic Reading Circles throughout
the country by systematic plans of reading and study, and by university-extension
courses ; the establishment and success of the Columbian Catholic Summer-
School at Madison, Wis., are all indications of its influence and its capabilities.
It would be well, therefore, for our Catholic people to give this movement serious
consideration and cordial co-operation.

During the session of 1895 from fifteen hundred to two thousand people at-
tended the lectures. They came from towns and cities of the United States and
Canada, and went away with many new ideas and new methods of work, which
they have lost no time in putting into practice in their own localities. They were
not only intellectually refreshed, but religiously strengthened, by the best thought
of the world presented in lecture and sermon by unselfish masters of study. As
a result every one went away impressed with the power of the church in her cere-
monies, her liturgy, and her unity, realizing it probably as never before.

Anything that tends to organize and unite the Catholic people is a benefit. It
is very desirable to increase the number of those who are thoroughly competent to
defend the doctrines and the practices of their Church. This the Summer-School
very efficiently helps to do. The simple fact that so many Catholics are gathered
together and are enjoying the same broad, intellectual training corresponding to
the needs of the day, is a source of hope, because it is an indication of strength.
Such association must necessarily result in benefit to the Church throughout the

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 425

country, because each individual becomes a centre for diffusion of the informa-
tion acquired.

The lectures announced for the first week, beginning July 13, are :

Experimental Psychology, by the Rev. Edward A. Pace, D.D., Ph.D., of the
Catholic University, "Washington, D.C.; The Philosophy of Literature, by Conde
B. Fallen, Ph.D., of St. Louis; Christian Archaeology, by the Rev. J. Driscoll, S.S.,
D.D., of the Grand Seminary, Montreal, Canada; Mexico, by Marc F. Vallette,
LL.D., Brooklyn, N. Y.; The Adirondacks, by Mr. S. R. Stoddard, Glens Falls,
N. Y., the eminent lecturer and traveller.

Second week, beginning Monday, July 20: Ecclesiastical History, by the
Rev. James F. Loughlin, D.D., Philadelphia, Pa.; Early German Literature, by
Charges G. Herbermann, LL.D., of the College of the City of New York ; Shake-
spearean Recitals, by Sidney Woollett, Newport, R. I.; the Hon. Judge Morgan J.
O'Brien, of the Supreme Court, New York City, will deliver one lecture ; subject
will be announced later.

Third week, beginning July 27 : English Literature, by the Rev. Hugh T.
Henry, of St. Charles's Seminary, Overbrook, Pa. ; Metaphysics, by the Rev.
James A. Doonan, S.J., Boston College ; Music, by the Rev. Henry G. Ganss,
Carlisle, Pa. ; Galileo, by the Rev. Andrew E. Breen, D.D., St. Bernard's Semin-
ary, Rochester, N. Y.

Fourth week, beginning August 3: Sacred Scriptures^by the Rev. Hermann J.
Heuser, of St. Charles's Seminary, Overbrook, Pa. ; Physics, by the Rev. T. J. A.
Freeman, S.J., of Woodstock College, Md.; Evolution of the Essay, by Richard
Malcolm Johnston, LL.D., of Baltimore, Md. ; Historical Studies, by Dr. Kellogg,
of Pittsburgh, N. Y.

Fifth week, beginning August 10: Studies in Social Science, by the Rev.
Francis W. Howard, of Jackson, Ohio ; American History, by the Rev. Charles
Warren Currier ; Some Phases of New England Life, by the Rev. Peter
O'Callaghan, C.S.P., New York, City ; Sir John Thompson, by the Hon. Judge
Curran, Montreal, Canada ; Our Northern Climate and How it Affects us, by Sir
William Kingston, Montreal, Canada ; Hawthorne, by John F. Waters, of Ottawa,
Canada.

The Board of Studies has also arranged a course of five dogmatic sermons
for the morning services, progressing from the apologetical course of sermons of
the last session. It seems preferable that there should be no formal sermons at
the Sunday evening services. In their stead the Board of Studies proposes a
course of five popular instructions on the common objects employed in Catholic
worship.

A full and comprehensive prospectus will soon be issued, containing in detail
all information concerning the session of '96. Address The Catholic Summer-
School of America, 123 East Fiftieth Street, New York City.
* * *

A recent meeting of the Executive Committee of the Catholic Summer-School
disclosed a very favorable condition of affairs. The committee felt sufficient con-
fidence to authorize the letting of contracts at once for such buildings and im-
provement of the grounds as would enable the next session to be held thereon
without fail. The first buildings will be an auditorium and a restaurant. Other
cottages will be built, roads and walks made, also sewers and water-mains laid.
The committee received positive assurance that the electric railway from Platts-
burgh to the grounds would be ready for operation by June 15.

426 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June,

One of the most encouraging reports made to the committee was that the
contract had been let for the erection of the Philadelphia cottage, and that it
would he ready for occupancy at the next session.

The Trunk Line Association has granted the usual reduction of fare on the
certificate plan of full fare going and one-third of full fare returning. The limit
on tickets will be from July 5 to September i. The other passenger associations
will no doubt grant the same concessions.

The fees for lectures will be as follows : Full course of seventy-five lectures,
§10 ; fifteen lectures, $3; single admission, 25 cents.

* * *

The distinctively social work of the Catholic Church in the United States is
now a subject of inquiry. Many students of Sociology are seeking for a book in
the English language that will give an adequate account of the literature on the
social question from Catholic thinkers. The information gathered by the
Columbian Reading Union has awakened considerable interest in the matter.
Among the many letters received none was more welcome than the following
from Mr. William Richards:

I was quite surprised and gratified to find in THE CATHOLIC WORLD of last
March nearly two pages of quotations from my essay on " Labor and Property,"
which I prepared for the Catholic Congress of 1889. The fact that M. C. M.
considered it so timely, «ver six years after its publication, as to justify its partial
reproduction in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, leads me to suppose that some readers
would be glad to see the whole article ; and therefore I write now, at the kind
suggestion of M. C. M., to say that the essay was published in the " Official Re-
port of the Proceedings of the Catholic Congress held at Baltimore, Md., Novem-
ber ii and 12, 1889," by William H. Hughes, 11 Rowland Street, Detroit, Mich.
It was also included in " The Souvenir Volume of the Centennial Celebration,"
etc., by the same publisher in the same year. I suppose that both these volumes
are scarce and rarely to be found in bookstores. Probably many of the delegates
to both conventions and many priests have copies.

I am glad to see that the members of the Columbian Reading Union are giv-
ing increasing attention to the study of the literature of the Social Question. It is
indeed the burning question of the day, and the one question which Catholic stu-
dents should be and can be best fitted of all people in the world to cope with, to
discuss and elucidate. Let me repeat here what I said in that essay, that the labor
organizations and State efforts of our day, however cunningly devised, must fail
to accomplish the great end of human society because they do not embody or
make place for the divine principle of charity. With a very few exceptions, in
France and elsewhere, they are mainly intended to advance merely the temporal
and material interests of men. " For all these things," said our Lord, " do the
heathen seek." Humanity cannot be saved by heathenism. The highest good of
human society, by the order of its divine Creator, depends upon the harmony of
the natural order with the supernatural order.

Dr. Brownson demonstrated, over forty years ago, in his profound criticisms
of the fascinating theories of Owen, Fourier, Saint-Simon, Cabet, Leroux, and
other Socialists, that if the supreme good of society is sought for on the assump-
tion that that good lies in the natural order alone, and that the supernatural or-
der is a myth, and therefore to be ignored and unheeded, then, however numerous
and powerful may be your merely humane, philanthropic, and co-operative meas-
ures, yet the end of it all must be inevitable failure.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 427

Helen Campbell declared that there could be no mitigation of pauperism un-
til " the whole system of modern thought is reconstructed, and we come to have
some sense of what the eternal verities really are." True enough ! But need I
add that only the Catholic Church can teach those "eternal verities," that she
alone can solve the problems that are worrying the souls of men ? For she alone
has the light that can enlighten our darkness. She alone has the word suited to
our condition ; and what more we need is to have that word given to the hungry
millions who are waiting and gasping for the Bread of Life.

Can the members of the " Reading Circles " engage in a nobler work than
this of first learning, and then teaching by precept and example those hungry mil-
lions, the true solution of the grand Problem of the Age ?
Chevy Chase, Md.

* * *

The April number of The Book-Buyer, published by Charles Scribner's Sons,
contains some useful hints by Miss Louisa Stockton on the organization of a read-
ing club. She writes :

In planning for a new club the first thing to decide upon is its purpose. Up-
on this point the projectors should have a distinct understanding. If it is to mean
the reading aloud of a book by one of the members while fancy-work and the
candy-box employ the others, very little organization is needed. An hour and
place for meeting, with a confection fund, should satisfy all requirements, except
perhaps a double digestion — the one to which Bacon alludes and the other upon
which the physician relies for permanent practice. But if sincere co-operation in
intellectual improvement is the object, a good working basis is needed from the
very start.

In regard to numbers there must be some consideration of one or two points :
It is not well to begin with a large membership, yet it should be large enough to
insure a good representation. In a town or village where club-day has few
rivals a regular attendance may be relied upon, but in a city other engagements
must create fluctuation in numbers, and make differences in the quality of meet-
ings. Begin with a small number, say not more than ten, and add as suitable
candidates present themselves. Do not make admission too easy, and beware of
the people who come to see how they will like it.

When a club is young and supposed to need advice it gets many warnings
against over-organization ; but it is clumsy organization, and not over- organiza-
tion, that is to blame nine times out of ten. A road can be made rough as easily
by a brief constitution as by a long one, and every society has known the little
by-law which has lurked on some shady page until it has seen its opportunity and
pounced on the most reasonable action. Sometimes the fault is of omission, as,
for instance, when terseness is desired it may seem unnecessary to define the
duties of officers. But if this clause is omitted, the practical work will in conse-
quence naturally gravitate to the most active officer. If this officer is the presi-
dent, the secretary becomes little more than a directed assistant ; while if the sec-
retary is the force, the president is passive until something occurs of which he
does not approve. Then he comes to the front, not always to settle difficulties
but sometimes to create them. If, however, the responsibilities and limits of each
officer are understood, there should be neither unconscious shirking nor conscious
encroachment. For every reason it is wise to settle upon some form of govern-
ment in the very beginning and not leave legislation for emergencies. A rule
made in a hurry is made for a specific condition and may be entirely unsuited to all

428 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, [June, 1896.

others. ... It may be here said that very few organizations require a consti-
tution ; by-laws are more manageable, and where a society is incorporated the
charter becomes its constitution.

In regard to committees, Miss Stockton advises that the chairman should be
careful not to ignore the other members. Practically the chairman is usually re-
quired to do most of the work, but he should, if only in appearance, throw some
of the responsibility of decision on the members, or before long he will find his
committee among his critics, and miss both their assistance and moral support.
As far as possible each member of the club should be assigned to a committee,
and to each official work should be given. In this way an esprit du corps will be
developed, the best workers discovered, while each individual has the advan-
tages in education which even the small affairs of a club must give its workers.

The president is an ex-officio member of all committees, but it is just as well
for him to leave them to conduct their own meetings and make their own reports.
A good president will always be a final authority, and he need never volunteer to
be the hill-horse. One of the most important rules to be observed by a presiding
officer is one of the most absolute and yet most often broken — he is not at liberty
to argue. The chairman of a meeting is not supposed to have opinions unless it
becomes his duty to cast a deciding vote. If he wishes to advocate either side of
a question, he should leave the chair and so surrender the unfair advantage of his
position. A chairman should never force members into antagonistic relations with
the chair. Nothing is more fatal. If you are chairman, and such a position is as-
sumed by a member on the floor, ignore it. The office has its own dignity, and
the officer who maintains it will in the end gain not only the moral support of the
members but the definite assistance.

A president should be self-controlled and watchful, alert in recognizing either
a lack of interest or an undue zeal to continue in much speaking. He should
understand the subject of the meeting, know the programme and keep it in hand.
Facing the audience as he does, he perceives whether interest is maintained or
not, and he should have the firmness to check the too voluble member, and the
quickness which will ward off stupidity. In a word, he should stand between the
members and the impositions of either platform or floor. After the meeting is
over, let him turn a deaf ear to that very intelligent and ready member who knows
so well how the meeting should have gone, who should have spoken, and who
has been suppressed, but who wards off all possible criticism upon himself by an
unflinching and steady refusal to do anything during a meeting to help either
chairman or members.

M. C. M.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIII. JULY, 1896. No. 376.

HALF-CONVERTS. V

BY REV. WALTER ELLIOTT, C.S.P.

LMOST thou persuadest me to be a Christian,"
said King Agrippa to the Apostle. Perhaps
he only scoffed at him and spoke ironically.
If not, he was one kind of half-convert, and a
bad kind. He was a man of detestable vices
joined with full knowledge of the truth. He loved his evil
ways, and therefore lived and died half-way to salvation.

To be half-way to Catholicity is a calamity, if one wilfully
stops there ; it is a glorious promise if one will go on. Many
come half-way, and live and die trying not to go the other half.
Others come half-way, and it is the best that they can do for
many years. At last they become wholly converted ; although
provoked at their own procrastination, they cannot look back
and be certain that it was sinful. A very practical problem of
the missionary is to find means to draw such souls on — to lead
or push them forward into the church.

Of course there is no such thing as a half-convert in the
sense of getting half the good of the true religion. Half-con-
verted is not at all converted. One may have all the truth
and none of the faith of Catholics. Faith is not halved, it is
one and indivisible. Human belief, call it human faith if you
like, picks and chooses, and so is master of its belief. The
Catholic is mastered by the truth, and freely owns subjection
to it. Catholic faith believes all because it believes on the
truthfulness of the divine teacher of all. The Catholic mind is
mastered by an objective teaching force — God revealing through
his Church.

430 HALF-CONVERTS. [July,

All this is true, and is evident. Yet one is no fool if he
believes a doctrine moved by its own credibility, though he
has not yet settled the question,of the source of his knowledge.
And every Catholic doctrine is credible intrinsically : one be-
cause it has convincing historical evidence, like church organ-
ism; another because it fills a void in the soul, like the real
presence ; yet another because it links earth to heaven, like
the intercession of the saints. Especially must human faith go
by bits and pieces and quarters and halves from little truth to
much, and at last to a full persuasion that God does reveal
by means of a teaching church. Instantly the spell of faith
rests upon the conscience of such a man. He is guilty or in-
nocent of the dreadful sin of resisting the grace of faith as soon
as he is humanly certain of the veracity of God in the teaching
church. But seldom will you meet a mind strong enough to
stake everything at the very beginning upon the question of
the divine foundation of a teaching church.

This answers a difficulty of some missionaries : Why not
confine our discourses to the main question, namely, Did God
found a teaching society? But, we answer, the main question
is too much to start with for the common run of minds. Rare-
ly can we begin profitably by making our own game — let the
inquirer do it. A mere morsel of truth is often too much.
Milk for babes ; and even grown people must have their food
carefully cooked. The main question is often a very raw ques-
tion. It is excellent sense to stick to the main question with
two classes : first, the rare minds ruled by reason ; second,
the half-converted. First find out how much a person can
stand, and then act accordingly.

Many truths of the faith are capable of belief standing
alone, though their very loveliness sometimes hinders weak
spirits from craving for more. Therefore we first let men
choose their own question and give them what they will ac-
cept, never failing to say at least something about the main
question before getting through. Many men are half-converted
by a detached doctrine — say, belief in purgatory, or in the scrip-
tural basis of confession. No men are ever wholly converted
before being half-converted (allowing for a few exceptions), and
remaining so for a notable lapse of time. The wise husband-
man can handle the grub-hoe as well as the sickle. Let us
not be above teaching the religious alphabet.

The work of conversion is often as much a straightening of
the mind's action as it is depositing truth in it to be acted on.

1896.] HALF-CONVERTS. 431

Often one must pick the gravel out of the mental machinery
before feeding it with raw material. Protestantism is no friend
to close reasoning, and its votaries are its victims: they must
have the truth fastened on their mental faculties as a brace is
fixed upon a child's crooked leg. The first work of the mis-
sionary is frequently to make crutches of the truth of God and
offer them to crippled intelligences. The teaching of correct
religious reasoning must, as a rule, go before the very beginning
of even human faith. We have often noticed this ; and it ex-
plains why at non-Catholic missions our steadiest auditors are
lawyers and doctors and journalists and educators ; they are
delighted with argumentation clearly done ; they seldom get it
from Protestant pulpits. This accounts, too, for the great pre-
ponderance of educated persons among our converts. The
trained mind is half-converted. As soon as it is well informed
of Catholic truth, it needs only to be honest and to be given
time to become wholly converted.

The truths of religion, apart from that of church authority,
are like the staves of a barrel without the hoops. They sug-
gest church authority as staves lying in a heap suggest hoops.
One outside the church who has a large portion of Catholic
truth finds it necessary to keep standing it up and holding it
up by ever-renewed investigation and argument. The Catholic
looks to church authority to do that — looks to the hoops to
keep the staves standing and united together. He is sure of
all his beliefs because the plainest one of them is the teaching
authority of the church. Now, some minds outside the church
do not know enough of the quality of religious truth to under-
stand the need of its being taught by church authority. You
give them their start just as you go to work to make barrel-
staves : first, you are glad to treat of any religious matter with
them. Others are half-converts already, and need only a skil-
ful management of the question of authority. Our Protestant
Episcopal brethren lay claim to all Catholic truth, yet try to
get along without infallible authority, or they substitute a
makeshift. And that is like tying the staves of a barrel to-
gether with pieces of rope. The truths of religion must be
held together by one encircling truth as strong as any of them-
selves in essence, and unique in its binding power.

To be a skilful persuader one must learn to build up con-
viction by beginning at either end of logical completeness. So
we say that men are partly converted by coming to believe any
Catholic truth. A further fact is that one truth calls for an-

432 HALF-CONVERTS. [July,

other, and helps the mind to receive it. The obvious conclu-
sion is the practical wisdom of instructing non-Catholics about
anything and everything they are willing to consider. The
faith of Christ is, indeed, a habit of mind, a power of believ-
ing ; but it is also a list of doctrines and facts. Preparation
for faith is thus twofold, the gaining of real knowledge, much
or little, and the adjustment of the intelligence and will to the
tendency to belief, to inclination, to open invitation, to actual
receptivity. The knowledge of truth in whole or in part looks
to the gaining of the habit of faith.

No class is so interesting to the missionary as half-converts.
They are as interesting to him as half-perverts are to the par-
ish priest. The latter class is very small, outwardly ; but stal-
wart Catholics will sometimes tell you that in early days they
" nearly lost the faith," and were saved by some good priest
who was patient with them in confession, or by a true friend who
kept his temper and argued instead of scolded. In like manner
half-converts are made whole ones by kind words of truth in
private, by good example, by a live book, by a stirring sermon,
by a good lecture.

This is to be remembered — the quick half of conversion is
often the first half. Many a man in our times is led on to con-
version by his own generous defence of Catholics against cal-
umny. If one but saves a mangy cur from cruel boys, he half
likes the dog. And in fiction the rescue of a maiden from peril
of death is a stock beginning of the hero's happy love-making.
The glorious old church, so popular, so gentle, so kindly to the
sinner, so stiff against error and so sweet to the erring, so con-
sistent, so full of heroes, so various and so unique, so vast and
so personal — the Catholic Church finds defenders among infidels
and sceptics and Calvinists. They begin as advocates of fair
play, and end as champions of Catholic truth — half-converted.
Along comes a missionary, and after his course of lectures our
defender of the faith is at war with his own conscience ; many
slip back into indifference, others practise self-deceit, a few
finally come in. If we had more missionaries the number of
converts of this kind, and of every kind, would be vastly in-
creased. If every town had a supply of well-assorted missionary
literature converts would be greatly multiplied, for half-con-
verts are everywhere.

On the other hand, in many cases it is not the first half of
the journey that is easiest, but the second — it is often the first
step that costs. Convince an old-fashioned bigot that the

1896.] HALF-CONVERTS. 433

church is not anti-Christ, and you have shaken him to the cen-
tre. It is a curious thing that Newman found it hard to be-
lieve that the pope was not anti-Christ. A genuine bigot — sup-
posing him not to be a numbskull — does nothing in religion
very easily or by halves. Earnestness of character is the cause
of his bigotry, that and deception. A bigot is a good hater,
and generally an honest one — easily made a good lover, often
made so very suddenly, but usually with a dreadful wrench.
Saul of Tarsus was a bigot, " and suddenly a light from heaven
shined round about him," striking him blind and destroying his
appetite. I know not whether an honest bigot will come in
sooner than an honest ordinary well-wisher of the church, given
the same amount of missionary influence ; but this I know,
God as often rewards intense honesty coupled with deep error,
as he does great willingness to learn the truth coupled with
timid hesitancy.

Let us work away at all classes. Some are moving on fac-
ing towards us, and need to be drawn, to be enticed, to be
good-naturedly assisted every way. Others are coming towards
the truth walking backwards. They are backing out of Protest-
antism, and yet will not make the avowal that they are back-
ing into Catholicism. We must get around them somehow or
other, and face them, so as to familiarize them with the mighty
truth that man cannot be left to construct a religion for him-
self— it must be ready made for him, and by his heavenly
Father. Let a fairly good mind study this proposition — God
made men to be taught — study it calmly, and he is soon half-
converted.

Half-converts are plentiful. There are whole towns where
the non-Catholics are half-converted, so kindly are their feel-
ings, so ready are they to listen. Then there are the many
thousands of families of mixed religion, whose non-Catholic
members go on for years half-converted. There are bright
men and women who have read much, others who have trav-
elled much; and these say, If any religion is true, it is the
Catholic. Some are partly converted even as to Catholic wor-
ship. To go to Mass on occasions, to make the sign of
the cross, to wear a medal and believe in its meaning, to in-
voke the Blessed Virgin and the saints, is not this half-con-
version ? We admit that some such persons move earth and
hell for ways and means of how not to be fully converted, but
Heaven is working the other way. Personal influence is strong
with these. They can be pushed in of a sudden, though that

434 HALF-CONVERTS. [July,

is risky. They can be gained very often by being induced to
attend a good, rousing mission to Catholics : the fear of the
Lord is the beginning of wisdom and the end of procrastina-
tion.

What think ye of Christ, whose Son is he ? was once the
main question in Israel ; we should make another phase of it
the main question in Christendom : What think ye of the
Catholic Church, whose Bride is she ?

Let us claim truth wherever found, and try to fix God's
trade-mark upon it, the Catholic sign. Try anything to move
along the lumbering mind to active study, or perhaps the
cowardly heart to the dreaded ordeal of actual instruction and
reception into the church. Moral topics are good for those
who admire right living, doctrinal for those who know how
to reason. Try history ; it is the tracings of God's finger
upon the map of time, and it proves his church. If one is
zealous to make converts, let him act sensibly and in good
taste, watching for the right moment. Be eager to make
converts, and be willing to make half-converts. Half a loaf is
better than no bread.

We meet with many converts who were helped first and
last by intelligent religious conversation. The social circle is a
religious arena, if one would but have it so. We talk to our
friends about everything except religion, or only exceptionally
about religion. Now, as a mere topic, as a time-killer, religion
is of interest to everybody ; managed by a Catholic, it is a
conversational apostolate. Throw much truth ; some will stick,
As to good books, and pamphlets, and leaflets, and periodicals,
they are like bread upon the dining-table ; we may dispense
with some things in moving souls towards the truth, but never
with the Apostolate of the Press.

1896.] THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. 435

THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND.

BY A. E. BUCHANAN.

:N a city like London, the metropolis of England,
it was a real pleasure to see men and women —
many of them of rank and nobility — on their
rounds of charity and pity. We noticed" one
lady in particular as she entered hovels in the
slums west of the city — there are hovels in the west as well as
in the east — and left the warm glow of love where all before
had been cold and dreary. This lady was the daughter of the
gifted authoress whose talent was wrongly used during the time
of the French Revolution in 1848, consequently whose works
gained for her most sad notoriety, especially as she was a rela-
tive of one of the same name who was guillotined in 1793.

Mile. Ilene Roland was born in Paris, one of a family of
five ; but at the time of the French revolution of 1848 only
she and her two brothers were living, and when her mother's
position became insecure, she was sent with the younger one
to the south of France. Her description of this journey is
interesting :

" One night we were packed up in the well of a small con-
veyance, covered over and nearly smothered by a little feather
bed which marked us as luggage. I can only remember that
we dared not speak to each other, although we had every reason
to believe that we should be suffocated for want of air ; and
we were constrained to cry at last, "• fttouffe ! fctouffe ! ' which
made no impression whatever upon the two or three gentlemen
who were in the conveyance.

"Pierre Leroux was one of the party, and when we heard
them say that a gendarme had put a bayonet through his hair
ta see if it contained any political papers — Pierre Leroux had
a forest of curly black hair — we were in torture lest a gendarme
should try us with a bayonet too.

" On arriving at our journey's end we were taken to a large
house standing in a beautiful garden, in a village. Many peo-
ple were there — all refugees — and two large rooms had been
set apart for printing ; this seemed to be the occupation of the
majority. One day the house was surrounded by soldiers who
were searching for Blanqui, but Blanqui was not found there."

436 THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. [July*

A few weeks after this experience Ilene and her brother
were taken back to Paris, packed up as before. There they
again stayed with their mother ; but evidently for a very
short time only, when it was thought best to send them to
schools in that city — the elder brother had remained at college
— and this began a particularly trying time for the little girl,
who had always been her mother's chief companion. She knew
nothing of any religion, and when asked what she was, she
would answer " Socialiste" and being told that Socialiste was no
religion, and ridiculed by her school-fellows for saying so, she
said that it would be " some day."

In the course of a few months Mme. Roland was arrested
and imprisoned, but her children were allowed to visit her three
times a week ; she was in the cell in which St. Vincent de
Paul died, at St. Lazare. How long she remained there we do
not know, but she must have been released before the coup detat
of 1851, as it was then that she was finally arrested and impri-
soned. One day after this, when the children went to see their
mother, the officials told them that she would be released again
in three days, as the emperor had granted an amnesty ; but this
proved to be a cruel mistake, for that very night Mme. Roland
was sent off to Africa. After arriving there she was compelled
to travel from place to place — to Oran, Setiff, Constantine,
etc. — with the soldiers.

Six months later the eldest boy took several prizes at college
and was asked to dine with the emperor — the usual reward.
This he declined, and was told to choose some other favor. He
then asked that his mothe'r might return to France. This was
granted, but during the two or three months that intervened the
death of Mme. Roland took place. The shock to Ilene was
at first very great, but she grew to disbelieve in her mother's
death, and as her music master had composed a piece for her,
" Le Retour d'une Bonne Mere," and people were kind to her,
she was buoyed up with bright anticipations which were never
realized. Her guardians very soon removed her to a school in
Germany, where they wished to pay the usual fees for her edu-
cation ; but a French teacher being badly needed just then, she
was placed at the head of a class of girls older than herself.

On leaving Paris she was entrusted with a packet of papers
to take to Beranger, one of her guardians. With these was her
mother's will, and as in this was the expressed wish that she
should become a governess, Ilene then determined on her
future course of life. But she had not been long in Germany

1896.] THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. 437

before it was discovered that she had a slight defect in her
speech, and the fear of its being imparted to her pupils caused
the head of the school to speak of her dismissal ; she promised,
however, to do all that was possible to remedy the defect, and
she remained. Now she persevered — using Demosthenes' ex-
periments— until what was in the least defective was completely
conquered.

THREE WEEKS ON BREAD AND WATER.

But there was a strange principle at work in the school and
her life was becoming very hard. Once she happened to dis-
please a pupil whom she corrected, and was afterwards ordered
to a little room at the top of the house and fed on bread and
water for three weeks. On inquiry as to the cause of her
punishment, she found that her pupil had told the superior an
infamous story about her, the whole of which she had invented ;
but she had so won belief in it that Mile. Roland was given
no opportunity to assert her innocence. One evening during
this incarceration she was fetched out of bed, scolded and told
that she was " a Judas " — she only knew this name in connec-
tion with little round bull's-eye windows in the doors — and she
was then put into a room next to the head teacher's. Of all
that was said to her that night she only remembered one remark,
viz. : " The reason you don't become good is that you don't
pray." This she felt was true, and she was glad to have heard
of " something " that would help her after all. Then she re-
membered that, when quite a little child, her mother had taught
her the Lord's Prayer, of which she thought she recollected one
sentence, Que votre oreille arrive ', but which years later she dis-
covered was Que votre r/gne arrive ; and that night the lonely girl
knelt hours by her bedside " wanting to pray " but incapable
of doing so. For some months after this she was subjected to
all kinds of petty persecutions ; but at last the time for her to
be set at liberty was approaching, although in the interim her
younger brother died in France. So much had he been taught
to hate religious ceremonies that he did not wish to have sing
ing or praying at his funeral. Her eldest brother was just at
this time sent to prison for his political views.

The years spent by Mile. Roland in Germany were marked
by hard work. To rise at five in summer and six in winter,
and to be occupied until eleven or twelve o'clock at night —
without any due rest in the day — had become so much a habit
that she would never afterwards consent to be unoccupied even

438 THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. [July

when her friends would advise her to rest. She was called by
them "The living rebuke." Once, when she was staying in
Paris with friends who were Socialists, she was greatly puzzled
at their admiration for Monseigneur Dupanloup. But at that
time she was beginning "to think a little and to believe in a
sort of way in a God or Providence," as she called him. She
asked an atheist how the world was created, and he replied
that " it was a force that had not been discovered, but would
be discovered some day " — exactly what she had been taught in
Germany; "there was always a cause, then," she continued; this
suggestion silenced him — they came, she afterwards told us, " to
a dead blank, and a veil was drawn over the subject."

All this made her conclude that she was " nothing." Not
being allowed to call herself a Socialist, not being a Protestant,
and she was quite sure not a Catholic " and never should be,"
the only inference she could draw, when she said she was
" nothing," was true enough.

BEGINNING OF LIGHT.

After having remained eleven years at school in Germany,
during which time she was allowed to go away for the holidays
twice, she was sent to Scotland. Having no idea of the route
she should take, and being too shy to inquire, her journey
lasted a week, but at last she found herself in Liverpool, and
went on by boat to Scotland. There she was met by friends,
among whom were girls she had known in Germany. Advertise-
ments were answered during the five months she stayed there,
and the English language was studied. Mile. Roland taught
herself by translating the Vicar of Wakefield, so that she was
making headway a little. At last, being tired of living on the
charity of others, she accepted an engagement in a farmer's
family where there were five children and a oaby, who was of-
ten left in her charge. She had to teach French, German, Eng-
lish, and music, and to sew for the household ; but after the
life she had led there was sweetness, she thought, in having her
liberty and "delicious solitude" in the evening. A friend, a
governess in Lancashire, heard of her whereabouts and occupa-
tion, and begged her to go back to England. It was some time,
however, before Mile. Roland could summon up courage to give
notice of her wishing to quit, and when she did so such a storm
of words followed that she was compelled to leave without half
of her salary, and to walk to the railway station — two miles and
a half — in pouring rain, malgrt the fact that two conveyances

1896.] THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. 439

were standing in the barn at the farm. When she arrived at
her point of destination — a country place near Manchester —
things were looking brighter. There was a spacious carriage at
the station, and a lady " full of kindness " met her and " almost
bewildered her by arrangements for her comfort." Now came
experiences different to any through which she had previously
passed. Every morning after breakfast the family read a chap-
ter of the Bible, each one taking a verse. When it came to
Mile. Roland's turn she had a great sensation of choking lest
her being " nothing " should be discovered. One day she was
asked by a gentleman at dinner what the French called Whit-
Sunday, and she was compelled to say that she did not know.
He took much trouble to explain to her what the day was ; but
the blow had fallen, and, overpowered by the sense of her ig-
norance, as soon as it was possible she went to her room and
relieved her pent-up feelings by a flood of tears. This became
known to the lady of the house, who felt kindly for her, and
it was arranged that she should see the clergyman of their
church — Episcopal — who gave her a course of instruction and,
in accordance with her earnest wish, baptized her. Once
knowing what baptism was, Mile. Roland had been in terror lest
she should die unbaptized. She could now speak and under-
stand English well, and began to visit the poor. The ignorance
she met with surprised her, as she expected to see their religion
part of themselves, and wondered how it could be otherwise.
"In my case," she said, "all mention of religion had been
avoided, but in theirs it appeared as if no one had ever taken
the trouble to teach them." Here were colliers who could not
read, and it was only when a colliery accident occurred that
Mile. Roland and her good friends could approach them to
speak to them of Almighty God. " It seemed," she said, " so
strange to me, now, to be allowed to try to please God ; up
to this time I had tried to do what was right because it was
right, and because I could find no other motive."

AN ASPIRATION AFTER CERTAINTY.

Mile. Roland's stay with the family in Lancashire had length-
ened to years when the death of the father of her pupils took
place. They then removed to another part of England. Here
she remained until her health gave way, and she was advised to
live in London. This was in 1877. She found opportunities
for giving French lessons, taught in the Sunday-school, and
went to her church regularly. She would only read Bible stories

440 THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. [July,

to her scholars, as she had an intuitive feeling that neither she
nor they could understand the Bible itself. One day she heard
a clergyman say that baptism was not necessary for salvation ;
this upset her peace of mind. A lady to whom she mentioned
it did not give her the least consolation : " she had been to dif-
ferent churches, and heard different explanations of the same
text — opposite views in each." Such was not Mile. Roland's
experience, and the remark was a rude shock to her religious
belief. She simply said : " Suppose the clergyman in our church
doesn't understand the Bible sufficiently to be able to explain
it properly! How dreadful that would be! How I wish there
was some church that would tell us for certain what is right ! "

The verse " many are called, but few are chosen " terrified
her, but she never spoke of this. One day she was looking
through her mother's letters, and in one of them, addressed to
a friend, there was this remark : " Read the seventeenth chapter of
St. John." Mile. Roland at once read it and continued to
read it, the passage where our Lord prays that his disciples
may be one making a particular impression upon her, especially
as on the previous Sunday the clergyman of the church she
attended had alluded to that text and said : " Do you think that
the well-nigh last prayer of our Lord, that his church might
be one, would remain unheard?" She had liked that sermon
and thought much of it. But now, as she sat and considered
the variety of opinions she had heard, she became worried by
the confusion, and was crying bitterly when there came a knock
at the door of her room, and a lady who had apartments in
the same house was her visitor. Inquiring into the cause of
Mile. Roland's grief, she assured her that there was but one
church where unity was to be found — the Catholic Church.
Now, to use her own words, " a terrible and unexpected blow
this was to me, for I would rather have become anything than
a Catholic."

She, however, liked her visitor, Mrs. P , and begged her

to have another long talk on the subject the following day.
But Mile. Roland's Protestant friends forestalled this visit and
they remained with her until late in the evening. She has told
us that during this time she was in torture lest the Catholic
Church should be right, and her friends, seeing her dejection,
feared she was ill and prescribed all sorts of treatment for her.
On their departure, however, Mrs. P — - was again asked to go
and see her ; and after the interview Mile. Roland spent a
night which she will never forget. " I could not sleep or pray ;

1896.] THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. 441

I dared not. I remained in this state of anguish for many
weeks ; I dared not say ' Thy will be done ' in the Lord's
Prayer, so I left it out." When Sunday came, instead of going
to church, she wrote a note to the clergyman whom she
believed in most, and begged him to show her that the Catho-
lic Church was wrong, and the Protestant belief right. No
reply was received, but some weeks afterwards she accidentally
met the clergyman, who told her that when he received her
note he was just going away for his holiday, but he would now
be glad to help her. Meanwhile she had written to another
who wrote a lengthy letter in reply, imploring her not to take
the "irrevocable step" in a hurry, and not to renounce "the
faith once delivered to the saints in the church of the
Apostles." But by this time Mile. Roland had proved that
there" was but one church giving evidence of the apostolical
succession, and the letter had nothing in it to convince her to
the contrary. But her clergyman friend now saw that it was
necessary to add to his forces, so he called in the assistance of
the lady with whom Mile. Roland had lived so long in
Lancashire and Kent, and one day our friend was surprised by
a visit from that lady, who prevailed upon her to go and stay
with them for a time. Here she did stay two weeks persuad-
ing herself, " with the help of Bibles, prayer-books, concor-
dance, etc.," that she could very well remain a Protestant.
Here, however, she was prevented from receiving Communion,
14 as there was only one other person in the church who re
mained to do the same." Her clergyman sent her Jeremy
Taylor to read, and she found the book a salve to her con-
science. Then, after a week's stay with the same clergyman,
she returned to London, " making sure she was well armed
against all doubts as to the Protestant church not being the
one true church."

DOUBTS AND BOGIES.

For a little while Mile. Roland purposely avoided all Catho-
lics, but she accidentally met Mrs. P , whom she asked to

continue her friendship even if they were silent as to religion.
About this time a letter full of abuse against Catholics was
sent to her by another clergyman. This had the effect of
making her doubt his charity. Another, when asked by a
friend to write to Mile. Roland to strengthen her in her Pro-
testant principles, took no notice of the request ; and mean-
while all her old doubts returned. She read every kind of

442 THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. [July,

book, talked to people of every creed, and appeared to be
unable to steady her belief in anything. In places where she
was governess all she heard was abuse of Catholics ; and books
and newspapers that contained any scandal against them were
always given to her to read — never was there any mention of
doctrine.

After hearing so much about priests, our friend began great-
ly to wish to see one, and above all to hear what he could
possibly say in defence of such a religion. Determined to carry
out this idea, she chose her first holiday. It was a very rainy
day and disastrous to her umbrella, her gloves, and her dress,
which had become so bedabbled by the time she reached the
priest's house that she began to feel too ashamed to ring the
bell. She did so, however, and was shown to a room where
she had not long to wait in further suspense. The priest
entered "looking very happy." "How can he look so happy?"
she said to herself.

When asked the reason for her visit — whether she had come
to inquire about anything, or wished to become a Catholic, she
replied, " I do not want to become a Catholic and I much wish
I had not read any Catholic books."

Still the priest asked to know her difficulties, and when she
mentioned "the worship paid to the Blessed Virgin and images,"
he explained to her the relative and inferior honor that Catho-
lics pay to the Mother of God, and how it was the least they
could do towards her who is " full of grace and blessed among
women," and he told her the story of the little girl who had
been forbidden to speak of the Blessed Virgin, when, in her
Sunday-school class, she had to repeat the creed from her cate-
chism and she came to " who was born of the Virgin Mary,"
she called out "There she is again; what am I to do with her
now?" As to statues, it was made quite clear to her that the
Catholic Church never used them as images to adore, and the
priest told her that if God had meant to say that we were never
to make any, he would not have told Moses to make two
graven images of cherubim and to place them with outspread
wings on the altar.

REST AT LAST.

Mile. Roland was convinced from the plain, truthful explana-
tion which the priest gave her of all of those points which had
been impressed upon her by her Protestant friends as the
abominations of Catholic worship " that he was right," and she

1896.] THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. 443

went home with a catechism and a lighter heart. No one could
have yearned for the fulness of God's light and truth more
than Mile. Roland did at this time. Letters, never wanting in
vicious and vile news about Catholic people, continued to arrive
daily, and in a few weeks our friend was in extremely weak
health. Her strong will, however, helped her to bear up until
holiday time, when she crossed the Channel and went to Bou-
logne for a change. Here she stayed three weeks enjoying the
restfulness the beautiful churches afforded her, and here in
spite of the strong prejudices that had fought such a long bat-
tle with her best desires, and although she was, as she says,
" saturated with abominable untruths about God's own Church
— untruths that seemed to have become so much part of her-
self that what her reason told her was right her heart would
not accept as such — she wrote to all her Protestant friends and
told them that she now felt " quite sure of the right way," and
that they had better cease from writing against it, as it was
useless. Then returning to London, Mile. Roland sought a
second interview with the priest, and told him that in order- to
be honest with God she must be received into the Catholic
Church. After some time of preparation, and having visited
the confessional — which proved to be the same that she had
looked into some years before, when she was so horrified at
there being one on each side of the priest, not being aware of
the doors between each — she remembered, as she entered the
sacred place, her previous condemnation of the church and how
she had hurried away from it as fast as she possibly could.
But how different now, when the darkness was gone and all
was light !

She had read aloud the Profession of Faith ; and now a new
trial was in store for her. The priest then rose from his knees,
and said : " I cannot receive you yet. I would rather you waited
— even if it should be a year — until you are more thoroughly
convinced of the truth." This was an unexpected blow ; but
she soon learnt the reason, which was that she had begun to
cry, as if in great grief, when she came to " I sincerely hold
this true Catholic faith, out of which no one can be saved,"
because she did not exactly understand its meaning, and she
had always omitted that sentence when, in the Protestant church,
she had joined in saying the Creed of St. Athanasius.

The following day, however, she went again to the priest
and offered her whole heart and soul to the guidance of his
church. Then he explained to her that the condemnation men-

444 THE DAUGHTER OF MME. ROLAND. [July.

tioned in the Profession of Faith does not apply to all, but to
those who wilfully resist the truth, or who, having means to
know it, do not make use of those means; as our Lord says,
" He that believeth not shall be condemned."

Mile. Roland was, therefore, now through her difficulties.
Having always been told that Catholics would drag her by
force into their church, the final trouble was more a cause of
gratitude than regret.

Having told the parents of her pupils of the step she had
taken, she was only retained by one family as governess, and
this on the understanding that she would not speak of religion.
Her youngest pupil, however, one day asked her "what would
become of people who were not good enough to go to heaven
and not bad enough to go to hell?" She replied that he had
better ask his mamma; but the child said, "Oh! mamma will
only say ' bother ! ' Then he was told to ask his papa, and
his reply was, " Oh ! papa does not believe such things ; do tell
me — I do so want to know." Mile. Roland could not resist the
little fellow's entreaties and she answered, " They will be put
into prison until they are good enough to go to heaven." The
child must have mentioned this to his mother, for she was told
in a day or two that her services were no longer required.

And now we come to the close of our description of a tried
life, and to think of Mile. Roland — the " Socialist, Protestant^
and Catholic " — as she is now, although in extremely weak health
— rendered weaker by a *ouch of paralysis a few years ago —
one of the most earnest laborers in the great vineyard, heart
and soul devoted to enlightening those who are in the shadow
of death, never tired of nursing the sick and of relieving the
wants of all to whom she can possibly become known, and at
the same time continuing to give lessons as a governess in order
that her work for God may not be crippled for want of means ;.
when we think of her now, or as we saw her a short time ago,
and of the deep waters through which she has passed in safety,
we cannot but see the leading of a kindly Providence and the
loving exercise of God's most holy will, in the life of the only
daughter of Mme. Roland the authoress, whose writings were
the cause of her death in 1851.

THE TEMPLE OF THE SUN.

A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND.

BY T. H. HOUSTON.

ETWEEN the " Flowery Kingdom " and the " Land
of the Rising Sun " lie hundreds of beautiful
islands that are literally gems of the ocean.
They are not large, and some are quite small,
but they stand up bold and picturesque as they
are approached, although in the distance they appear under
the dreamy garb of an azure haze. There being little inter-
course between them and the main-lands, their interior life,
beauty, and mystery are often unknown to the outside world.
In the Archipelago of Chusan, just off the coast of Ningpo,
China, is the Island of Poo-too, one of the fairest and most re-
markable of these, and one so wholly and curiously consecrated
to the service of heathen religion that it is the most wonderful
if not the only instance of the kind on the globe.

By a lucky accident, it seemed, the rigorous exclusion of
visitors, even of Chinese, and especially women, was relaxed in
favor of a small party of American ladies and gentlemen some
years ago. One of the priests of the island who visited Ning-
po several times a year to secure provisions, being a consump-
tive, was advised to seek medical aid from one of the mission-
aries there, with results so gratifying that he went to see the
VOL. LXIII.— 29

446 A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND, frfuly,

missionary upon each subsequent trip. These visits being the
occasion also of earnest interchange of thought and feeling, a
strong mutual respect and friendship resulted.

The missionary frequently expressed a great desire to pay
a return visit and see the wonderful isle, but the priest was
obdurate. It seemed to him such a sacrilege — at least so un-
heard-of. Yet, finally, he yielded and gave permission for him-
self and a party of friends to spend a few weeks in the mon-
astery over which he presided. It had been almost a thousand
years since a Chinese emperor presented the island to the priests
of Buddha for a perpetual shrine of devotion, and its hundred
temples and thousand priests had been continuously hidden from
view by an exclusive policy and the coverings of camphor-
trees that surrounded and bent over them.

The preparations for the voyage were of peculiar interest
in that a junk must be used for the occasion and a supply of
food, fuel, etc., be taken to last through the visit. So sacred
was the island that nothing animal or vegetable could be dis-
turbed, nor a twig broken for fuel. Despite the primitiveness
of the arrangements for comfort, including a shelter of straw
at the rear of the boat and the necessity of eating upon the
floor, it was a bit of experience not to be despised. It left the
more opportunity and pleasure also for feasts of the eye and
flow of the soul.

The sail to the mouth of the Ningpo River was amid a
series of grand blue hills, the wild azaleas covering them being
concealed beneath an azure veil. Prosy enough, and yet pictur-
esque, were the numerous ice-houses along the shore, resembling
stacks of straw cut off at the top, where thin ice, laid into
blocks, was preserved for the use of fishermen.

Out upon the sea the boat threaded its way slowly against
a head wind among numerous isles and fishing-boats, with much
noise of the sailors talking, until night-fall, when it anchored in
the harbor of Ding-Hae, in the Island of Chusan. This island
had been once occupied by the English, but was abandoned by
them, as unhealthy, for Hong Kong. In the morning a hurried
visit was made to the fortifications and to the temple of Hero-
worship just beyond.

The landing was up a flight of stone steps that would have
done credit to a European harbor — possibly built by the Eng-
lish. These steps led up beyond the fortifications to the front of
the temple, which stood imposingly upon a prominent elevation
where a good view of the sea and the island itself was afforded.

1896.]

A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND.

447

After a toilsome ascent, the visitors were received at the ves-
tibule and tea was immediately served.

Hero-worship is an important element in the Chinese religion,

akin to ancestor-worship, which is a greater power in Chinese
life than Confucianism, Taoism, or Buddhism, for it is univer-
sal ; whereas the other forms have degenerated and coalesced
into a common faith for the masses, though the learned still

448 A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND. [July,

hold in separate form man-worship, spirit-worship, and image-
worship.

This temple in Chusan was erected to the memory of some
great man or men of the empire, although it was not filled, as
some are, with images of the dead. The priests were Buddhists
of the usual type, and the temple differed little from the many
seen on the main-land. It was but a hasty glance that could
be given to the place, and the most impressive feature noted was
what was called the " Buddhist Hell," at the rear of the temple.
This consisted of an open court where images of criminals and
convicts of every degree were represented in torture by all kinds
of cruel devices, as twisting, boring, decapitating, etc., teaching
the kinds of punishment inflicted upon evil-doers in the land
of the departed. The spectacle was revolting enough, but was
doubtless calculated to inspire terror in the way desired. It
was at once suggestive of Dante's " Inferno," although on dif-
ferent lines and on a different basis.

The Island of Chusan is only about fifty miles in circum-
ference, yet on account of the fortified town of Ding-Hae it
was reputed to have a population of fifty thousand souls. It
was impossible to make further inspection of the island, but
as far as the eye could see from the elevated position of the
temple it was diversified and clothed with verdure and flowers
like all the lands of this clime.

To a crowd of men, women, and children, who had gathered
to see the strangers, one of the party talked of the " Yieasu
daoli " (the Jesus doctrine), there being no special restriction at
that point upon missionary work. The talk continued while de-
scending the steps to the water, and the listeners seemed to
want to hear more of the subject.

The sail to Poo-too was resumed with mingled feelings of
delight and regret ; but, as before, amid beautiful islands that
suggested only the romantic side of life, save for the many
salt-heaps along the shores and the fishing-boats, in which the
busy struggle for existence was going on.

As the boat neared the island priests and coolies were seen
standing upon the cliffs watching and waiting, while many of
the latter were out in the water ready to bear any one or any-
thing to the shore. Here at last was the sacred isle, rock-bound
and high above the sea, verdure-clad, groved and templed
throughout its hundred miles of length, and inhabited solely by
priests and their servants. What could all this mean, and how
did it come about ?

1896.]

A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND.

449

History tells us that between the years 841 and 847 Anno
Domini the Emperor Woo-tsung, regarding the monasteries
and ecclesiastical establishments as an evil, abolished all temples
and monasteries, and sent the priests back to their families.
Under these circumstances it is more than probable there be-
gan a refuge-seeking and re-establishment in secluded and re-
mote places. It was not long after this period that Poo-too wa!>
appropriated wholly by the priesthood, where the preservation
of the ancient creeds and forms extends to this day.

With the consciousness in the Christian mind that all this
was pure heathenism, it was impossible not to feel the spell
of antiquity and the strange solemnity of a retreat hallowed
in the hearts of the
devotees of nearly a
thousand years.

The ascent from
the landing was by
a fine stone path
that led up to
and through a gate-
way in ivy-covered
walls, and that went
winding and curv-
ing through several
courses until it
reached the white
monastery at the
top, which had been
hid by the tall cam-
phor-trees, rising one
above another as the
ascent was made. In this monastery rooms had been prepared
for the party ; and they had been scarcely escorted thither when
one of those terrible typhoons, to which the country is subject,
swept over the island. Although lasting but a few minutes, it
seemed to threaten destruction to everything. But the low
brick walls were staunch and safe, and the big trees only bowed
obeisance to the mighty powers of the air. When tea was
served there was a special thankfulness that the storm had not
struck our party an hour earlier while on the sea.

The island of Poo-too was found to be beautifully diversified
with hill and dale, and with shrubs, ferns, vines, and grasses,
all covering it luxuriantly. Groups of camphor-trees of im-

IDOLS ON THE SACRED ISLAND.

450 A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND. [July*

mense size crowned the hills, which sometimes rose one above
another, jutting into the very sky. Broad roads wound among
them, leading along to the temples, some of which, simply
shrines maybe, were rather rude structures among the crags.
A conspicuous feature in the landscape were the pools of lotus,
which are especially connected with the worship of Buddha.

The priests regard the lotus-flower as having great power
over deceased souls. They believe that the dead suffer tor-
tures of various kinds, and make large offerings of lotus to the
God of Mercy, whom they beseech to cast the flowers upon
the sufferers, that the sense of punishment may cease. These
ponds are very effective in bloom as objects of beauty, some-
times white, sometimes red, chiefly the latter. It is claimed
that Buddha lived in many worlds before entering this one,
gradually advancing from a worm to the human image, and
that when he became a man a halo of glory encircled him, and
the earth wherever he trod spontaneously yielded a profusion
of lotus-flowers.

The broad-stoned roadway, the blocks sometimes two or
three feet square, was the thread upon which were strung, as
it were, the numerous temples, shrines, pools, archway, and
monuments to the dead. Near the temple Suin-Z was an elabo-
rate stone gateway, the gift of an emperor, carved and wrought
in figures and with inscriptions in Sanscrit, beautiful enough
to adorn a city thoroughfare. Sanscrit was introduced into
China with Buddhism from India, and these inscriptions are not
uncommon throughout China. The rocks of Poo-too were well
covered with inscriptions. It is a noteworthy coincident that
this movement took place at the beginning of the Christian era.

There were other streets, more circuitous, along which were
the minor shrines, arches, and stone cisterns, usually vine-clad
and picturesque. More out-of-the-way objects were found here
and there among the craggy rocks, where hollows and caves
were converted into shrines and where some of the hermit
priests abode. Sometimes these would be seen far overhead
and sometimes resting in the valleys below. Not a rock or
tree, bush or twig, vine or flower, but was sacred from the rude
hand of man. All was the most serene and peaceful quiet.
Even the worms of the dust were regarded, and sometimes the
paths were swept with the special purpose of protecting any
that might come into the track of those passing along.

The temples of Poo-too were of various sizes and impor-
tance, but still of a characteristic architecture not greatly dis-

1896.]

A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND.

similar. The principal ones opened upon a court around which
various rooms were arranged and from whence they were all
equally accessible. It was usually in the largest one of these
that the worship of Buddha was held, where also his image was
stationed. This room was sometimes adorned with carved col-

SCULPTURES NEAR THE TOMB OF THE MlNG SOVEREIGNS.

umns, usually representations of fish and fanciful animals. The
service was purely official, as there was no congregation outside
the priestly household.

The monastery at the entrance to the island was called the
Beh-who-En, signifying " White Flowery Monastery." It was a
plain two-story structure of brick, stuccoed and topped with
the usual curved tiling roof. It was curious that just under the
eaves there was a foot-wide band of the wall of Troy, or Greek
cross. The priests were dressed in long robes of white, often
of pongee silk, and their heads were shaven. The service con-
sisted chiefly of singing and praying before the image. Each
priest was attended by a boy who helped in the function.
About a hundred priests abode in this monastery.

Apparently, however, the most important work, at least that
which consumed the greater part of the time, was the produc-
tion and copying of books. Both priests and scribes wrought

452 A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND. [July,

laboriously at this work. The latter often wrote with a spe-
cially cultivated finger-nail. This was sometimes two inches in
length, and was wielded dextrously. The library of this mon-
astery comprised many thousand volumes, mostly in manu-
script.

The chief recreation of the priests consisted in walking, an
exercise and entertainment that constituted an important fea-
ture of life on the island. They went usually in groups, and
held their principal discourse and intercommunion in this peri-
patetic way, pausing now and then to gaze upon some monu-
ment, or pay devotion before some tomb or shrine.

A spectacle sometimes witnessed was the evidence of self-
mutilation in expiation of sins. On the head of one priest
were nine indentations made with a hot iron, while another
might have one or more joints of his fingers missing. It is not
improbable that discipline was of a rigorous sort, and the
measure of punishment fully up to the rationalism of their creed.
Some of these monks were hermits. One of these lived in a
rock devoted to silence, and had not spoken in twenty years.

The whole island was consecrated to the God of Mercy,
and there was the principal seat of efficacy for the sanctifica-
tion of the images of other temples. The visitors had an
opportunity of witnessing one of the remarkable episodes of

AN ALFRESCO ALTAR.

the transportation of an image from the main-land to be sancti-
fied. A body of Chinese priests and attendants arrived in a
junk, and were heard making the ascent to the monastery with
a great noise as of an army of savages coming up under the
great trees. The procession was made up of men and mock
elephants, bearing great illuminated ladders of glass and the

1896.] A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND. 453

image of brass to be blessed. There was great beating of
drums and burning of incense. It was a God of Mercy
that they were bringing from Fou-Chou, a thousand miles
distant, to pay homage to the great god of the island and to
be blessed in a manner to carry back more power for spiritual
efficacy. It was taken into the temple and carried in front of
the image there, where the ceremony consisted of recitals and
the bowing and swaying of the Fou-Chou god before the other
one for the space of a day and a half. Then followed the
return with like noise and ceremony of its arrival.

That the crowning feature of the Buddhist feeling and wor-
ship in Poo-too was mercy reflected the original creed of its
founder, who taught that the thorough conquest of the body
resulted in perfect love, which made it unnecessary for the soul
to continue the process and progress of transmigration and en-
abled it to pass at death at once to Nirvana, the blessed estate.
Mercy being the crowning grace of the all-love, was the utmost
divine favor, and the most needed by the soul subjected to
sorrow through union with matter.

There is, perhaps, nothing more absurd and revolting to the
Christian mind than the subjection of the Chinese masses to
low and fantastic superstitions. The creeds and worship on
the island of Poo-too had nothing of this degeneracy. They
represented a high human conception of unrevealed religion, as
taught by the founder five hundred years before Christ,
although there had grown about them an image service and a
symbolism far from the original conceptions.

In taking leave of this subject one is reminded of the fact
that missionaries of the Catholic Church had planted the
cross successfully in China in the early centuries, and that the
edict which closed the establishments of Confucius, Buddha,
and others, in the ninth century, included those also of the
Catholic faith.

In the doctrine of Buddha and worship upon the island of
Poo-too there are a few apparent resemblances to the Christian
model in the Catholic Church. It seems not improbable that
the Christian worship in China in the early centuries had ex-
erted such influence upon the people, and possibly the priests of
Buddha, that, when their worship was revived in later years, it
was modified somewhat under that influence.

Remote as the Chinese Empire is from the centre of Chris-
tianity, it was in very early times the scene of great apostolic
triumphs. It is certain that Christianity was preached there

454

A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND.

[July,

even before the Anglo-Saxons had been converted, and prior
to the seventh century the evangelization of the vast empire
had been very largely carried out. This fact even the sneer-
ing agnostic Gibbon fully admits. In the thirteenth century
there was an archbishop at Pekin, who had under his jurisdic-
tion four suffragan bishops. Under the enlightened Emperor
Kublai-Khan Christianity made great progress in the interior of
the empire. Later on the light of St. Francis Xavier's faith
shone for a little over the Chinese coast, but his course was
nearly run when he arrived there. However, one not inferior in

ONE OF THE IDOLS IN THE TEMPLE.

heroism soon arose to take his place — the famous Father Ricci.
Twenty years he spent on the Chinese mission, learning the
language, astounding the most learned by the beauty of his
compositions, and converting thousands by his sanctity. Before
his death he had founded more than three hundred churches,
and had many converts in almost every large city. It was
Father Ricci who laid the foundations, indeed, of most of the
Catholic structures which exist in China to-day. He baptized
three princes of the imperial house, and many of the nobles
and leading literati of the empire. Success was soon followed
by persecution ; the missionaries were banished or slain, and

1896.] A CHINESE HOLY ISLAND. 455

thousands of converts put to torture and death. But the church
was not to be deterred by persecution. After the Jesuits
came the Dominicans and Franciscans. Father Koffler, who
arrived in 1631, received the mother of the emperor, his princi-
pal wife, and his eldest son into the church. The progress of
the church, from that period forward, while the Ming dynasty
lasted, was marvellous ; but on the death of the Emperor Cang-
hi, in 1722, another storm of persecution swept over the empire,
and the patient work of years was once more blotted out.
Cardinal Moran, in a recent lecture on the general mission
work of the church, enumerates ten violent persecutions in
China during the past three centuries. Still the seed sown has
been by no means extirpated.

In 1890 there were 38 bishops, 620 missionaries, and 137
native priests in charge of 38 missions, with 580,000 Catholics.
Besides this there were in the Tonkin of Annam Mission 628,-
ooo Catholics, making in all 1,208,000 Catholics. A distinguished
Chinese visitor to France in the beginning of last year, M. Ly-
Chao-Pee, holding high official rank, in a lecture which he
delivered before the Geographical Society of Lyons, gave many
details regarding the empire. For instance, the palace of the
emperor, he said, was fifty times as large as the Louvre, and
all brilliantly illuminated with electric lights. But regarding
religion he remarked that " there were many popular prejudices
and superstitions to be overcome. He looked at Catholicity,
which is penetrating more and more extensively into China, to
ultimately destroy these prejudices." He added : " It is the
only means. I have the most profound conviction that it is
only Catholicity that will regenerate my country."

456 THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. [July,

THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM.

BY JAMES HOWARD GORE,
Columbian University.

HE owners of the mines at Mariemont have, by
an unremitting interest in their workmen, not
only greatly improved the condition of the min-
ers but also eliminated a large proportion of
those vexed questions concerning the relations
of labor to capital which are so liable to arise where so many
people are engaged in the same occupation and under the
same employer.

This interest shows itself in the elaboration of several insti-
tutions which belong to one of the following classes :

Institutions by means of which the owners seek to increase
and preserve the welfare of the employees, and

Organizations, developed by the laborers themselves, which
insure the spirit of harmonious solidarity between labor and
capital.

To the first category belongs the Precautionary Fund (Caisse
de prtvoyance), or Pension Fund. It is sustained by a weekly
payment equivalent to 0.75 per cent, of the pay-roll for the
week, one-half of this sum being deducted from the wages of
the workmen and one-half paid by the owners. Also all fines
imposed by the council of workmen are paid into this fund.
The purpose of this institution is to meet the necessities of
wounded laborers, those who are sick, and in exceptional cases
to provide for the needy.

The management of this fund is in the hands of a com-
mission of seven members, three chosen by the owners and
four by the workmen. Although the majority of this govern-
ing body is in the control of the miners, there has never been
any question in the minds of the owners as to the expediency
of this arrangement.

Workmen who receive injuries while at work are paid, for
three months, a pension equivalent to 30 per cent, of their
wages. If the injury is permanent, the pension, varying from
$1.60 to $4 per month, according to the extent of the disability,
is fixed by the commission for each special case. Those who

1896.] THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. 457

are rendered unable to work by sickness receive for the first
six months of their illness 22 per cent, of their wages; during
the next six months, 15 percent.; for the next twelve months,
71/2 per cent.; while after two years the allowance is made by
the governing body. The widows of workmen killed while in
the discharge of their duties receive a pension of $3 a month,
but if the man died subsequently from wounds received, she is
given a pension equivalent to one-half of what he was receiving
as a sick beneficiary. Children of the deceased also receive
40 cents each ; the boys until they are twelve years of age
and the girls until they are fifteen. However, if the children
are at school this limit is extended two years. This provision
encourages a longer attendance at school, thus better equipping
the orphans for gaining a livelihood independent of unwilling
relatives. When a single man, who was the sole support of
others, is killed by accident, those dependent upon him receive
$2.80 each per month.

OLD AGE PENSIONS.

Another institution of great value is the Maturity Fund,
founded in 1868. Into this each laborer pays 2 per cent, of his
wages, and the employers i^ per cent, of a certain sum which
is made up of several amounts : a sum equal to what is paid
to each workman for the first month of his service, the amount
of increase whenever made to any salary, and such special
grants as the company may see fit to make. But no workman
under 20 years of age can participate in this fund unless his
wages exceed $300 per annum, nor is a new employee admitted •
who has reached the age of 40. From the fund are paid pen-
sions to all underground workmen who are 60 years old, and
to overground workmen of 65. This pension amounts to $4
per month for men who have been in the employ of the
company for 35 years. If a laborer is obliged to retire because
of illness before reaching the maturity age, he receives $3 per
month, provided his term of service has been as much as 30
years. Widows of maturity pensioners receive a monthly al-
lowance in proportion to the length of their married life. Here
again the management is in the hands of a commission, four
out of the six being chosen by the workmen members. Mem-
bership in this organization is wholly optional.

The third institution to be mentioned is an Aid Fund, pre-
served by the company, but managed by a mixed commission
as in the preceding instances. From this fund aid is given to

458 THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. [July,

workmen who attain a certain age in the service of the com-
pany, or who for a shorter period have held positions of great
responsibility. In this last-named provision it is seen that the
company avoids the retention of men in posts of trust after
the time when, because of physical infirmities, the lives of many
might be jeopardized ; but it at the same time places these
men beyond want by granting them a monthly allowance. The
allowance made depends upon the position held by the bene-
ficiary and the length of his service. From this fund are paid,
also, funeral expenses of workmen killed by accident or such
as die from injuries received while at work, and temporary as-
sistance for families which have become impoverished by pro-
longed sickness.

PROVISION FOR MEDICAL HELP.

The company, for 20 cents a month, furnishes to the entire
family of the contributor medicine and medical and surgical
attendance ; likewise any artificial limb needed to replace one
lost by accident. For this service 23 physicians and the same
number of pharmacists are employed. While they are assigned
to certain districts, each family can select any physician it may
desire, and in grave cases a consultation can be asked for.
This novel feature of allowing a selection of a physician for
the family is as much of a stimulus to the practitioner as though
he were dependent upon the fees for each visit. The periodi-
cal report of each doctor gives some idea of the esteem in
which he is held, and his retention or promotion is likely to
rest upon this evidence of esteem or ability. This elective
liberty on the part of the family can be exercised only in the
forenoon ; after twelve o'clock the physician called upon to
pay a visit outside of his district can decline to go, in which
case the appropriate doctor must lay aside his pride and at-
tend the patient.

The sanitary affairs of the entire community are looked
after by a commission of 1 1 members ; 3 delegated by the com-
pany ; 2 physicians, selected by their colleagues ; 2 pharmacists,
likewise chosen by their fellows ; 2 employees and 2 workmen,
similarly selected. The amount annually expended by this ser-
vice in the betterment of the sanitary conditions of the village
communities is nearly $15,000.

THE QUESTION OF HOUSING.

The company, realizing the importance of having the
workmen well housed, have erected 550 houses. Each dwelling

1896.] THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. 459

•

consists of a cellar, 3 rooms on the first floor, 2 on the
second, and a garret above. The rent for the house and the
garden of 2*^ acres is $1.50 a month. Every year the fronts of
the houses are whitewashed, and once in five years they are
thoroughly overhauled. These houses are built on the company's
lands and cost about $700 apiece, from which it is seen that
the rent amounts to only 2 per cent, of the cost price. Not-
withstanding these low rents, the workmen are encouraged to
become owners of their homes ; and with this end in view the
requisite sum is advanced for the purchase of a house, and the
money refunded monthly by deductions from the wages. That
the efforts in this direction are successful can be seen in the
fact that 24 per cent, of the married men own the houses in
which they live. Should no house of the kind or size desired
be vacant, one can be built by the man wishing it. The
ground is bought from the company, the materials purchased
under the most favorable conditions, and the miner assists per-
haps in the construction of the building or in its subsequent
enlargement. Even in these cases the company will advance
the money, which is paid back in instalments without interest.
During the past few years about 40 houses annually are built
in this way, the average cost being $800. It has been found
that, under the influence of the sanitary commission, the main
point of difference in these houses built to order is in a closer
observance of hygienic laws. The ceilings are higher and the
windows larger, but in other respects the general model is
followed. It is not necessary for a man to feel forced to build
a house because of the size of his family. If the company's
houses are not large enough, it will add an additional room, for
which the rent will be increased 15 cents a month.

The company has concluded that it is better for it to loan
money without interest for a definite period to enable a work-
man to build a house, than to invest the same amount in a
house to be rented for an indefinite period at a rental of 2 per
cent, on the cost.

AESTHETICS, EDUCATION, AND MUSIC.

The importance of home-life is also emphasized in the re-
fusal of the owners to employ married women, preferring to
assist them by this refusal in their natural desire to make home
attractive, and to contribute to the effectiveness and health of
their husbands by having time to properly prepare the daily
meals. It was extremely interesting to note the touches of the

460 THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. [July,

feminine hand in the house adornments. At many of the
windows bright curtains helped to make the house cheery, while
flowers and caged birds showed that the rough work of the
men had not driven out all love for the beautiful. In this con-
nection it should be said that these mines stopped the employ-
ment of married women long before the Belgian laws intervened.
They do not allow single women to work except above ground,
and even there only at the lighter tasks. Child labor was
abolished years ago. At present no boy can work until he has
reached the age of twelve, and then for the first three years
directly under the eyes of his father.

The company also encourages education. Appreciating the
fact that the influence of schools is always downwards, it
directed its attention first of all to an industrial school of a
high order. Each year it contributes to this cause alone the
sum of $8,000. Of the 700 pupils attending this school, more
than two-thirds are employees of the mines or their children.
In addition to this institution, or rather as an outcome of it,
there was organized a Society of Popular Instruction — a society
somewhat analogous to the lyceums of this country. It has for
its main purpose the procuring of public lectures and confer-
ences and the founding of free libraries. It is, in short, a sort of
means of securing information on the co-operative plan.

Another organization which has contributed largely to the
improvement of the moral tone of the miners, as well as to
their entertainment, is the musical society. It has a member-
ship of nearly 200, of whom 70 are active participants. Some
of these performers are graduates of the conservatory at Liege
and some from that of Brussels. Out-door performances are
given on holidays in the park when the weather is good, and in
the public hall during the winter months. This society also
supports a school of music which is free to the children of the
workmen, and it has a musical library of considerable impor-
tance. It is enabled to accomplish this much because of an
annual gift from the family of one of the owners of the mine.
Here again the majority of the governing body is made up of
persons chosen by the workmen themselves. The company lets
the men see that it realizes that these institutions rely upon
them for support. It therefore says, in effect, " It is your money
or your labor which gives this organization its life, therefore
be men enough to look after its interests. We shall be near
by to assist or advise." The men delegated to act are proud of
this responsibility, and see to it that their colleagues shall never

1896.] THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. 461

have occasion to regret their election. It has also shown the
laborers that the company does not wish to coerce them in
any way, but that in equalizing representation in all commis-
sions— giving to the workmen a greater number of votes, while
the company's delegates have more intellectual strength — there
is an acknowledgment of the importance of labor as well as of
capital.

WORKMEN'S BENEFIT SOCIETY.

This close relation between the employees and the employ-
ers has had another beneficial effect. The former have learned
from the latter, by precept as well as by example, habits of
economy and the importance of keeping the expenses within
the income. The workmen, appreciating the value of the aid
fund of the company, organized in 1869 a mutual aid associa-
tion. This society is managed solely by the men themselves,
receiving the friendly advice of the company's officers when-
ever demanded. The membership dues are 20 cents monthly
for men and 10 cents for women and children, while the initia-
tion fee is equal to the available assets of the society divided
by the number of its members. This unique entrance fee
places all members upon the same footing, in that each one
contributes to the general fund a sum equal to that which is
already there to the credit of every other member. If the
new member is between 30 and 35 years of age, he must pay
double the sum just indicated ; and if he is between 35 and 40,
the fee is three times as much, while no one above 40 is ad-
mitted. From what follows it will be seen that this increased
fee for entrance is in the nature of insurance, for the older a
man is the more liable he is to become incapacitated for work.

The benefits are paid from the day of injury or the begin-
ning of the illness in case the illness is of long duration ; but
from the third day if the beneficiary is sick 10 days or less.
The daily benefit for a period of 6 months or less is the same
as the membership fee per month ; that is, 20 cents or 10 cents,
as the case may be. But for the seventh month as well as for
the eighth month, which is the limit of the benefits, the daily
allowance is one-half of the sums just named. Since the entire
capital of this society has been contributed by the members,
one does not forfeit his membership by leaving Mariemont or
by changing his vocation. As long as he pays his monthly
dues he is entitled to its benefits. The premium and benefits
of this society have been very wisely adjusted, because since
VOL. LXIII. — 30

462 THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. [July,

its founding the surplus is less than 2 per cent, of its disburse-
ments.

Naturally, where such success has attended the conduct of
general aid societies, a number of limited or special societies
would spring up. Such is the case here. The machinists have
a mutual alliance which resembles the last named, except that
new members are admitted by ballot, and the funds are deposit-
ed in the State Savings-Bank instead of with the company.

THE CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM.

The company has not thought it wise to proceed further
than to provide for emergencies, fatalities, or disabilities which
result from protracted labor. It has, therefore, looked towards
the future rather than at the present. The question of food
and clothing, especially the former, would of course concern
the employers ; but while they might wish to see their work-
men well provided, and that too at a reasonable expense, it
was not deemed best to enter so far into the private life of
the men as to dictate where and how the household purchases
should be made. The very purpose already referred to, that
of meeting the laborers on an equal footing, would engender a
spirit of liberty which would likely resent any intimation that
the company would like to be their store-keepers. But the
workmen little by little became so impregnated with the ideas
of economy and saw so plainly the advantages of co-operation
that they of their own accord established a system of co-opera-
tive stores. As was to be expected, the company's officers
were ready to advise, and in 1869, when the plan was first put
into operation, it advanced the necessary funds. During the
very first year 612 families joined the association, and the sales
during that period amounted to $29,893.

The benefits of this system are not limited to a mere saving
of the difference between wholesale and retail prices. In min-
ing districts there are so many men who fail to pay their just
debts, either because of indifference or inability, that the shop-
keepers, to avoid loss, must demand such prices that the pay-
ments of the honest and the frugal may compensate for the
losses on bad accounts. But here all sales are for cash, and
the saving is so great that very few willingly patronize other
stores ; consequently the people are encouraged to be consider-
ate and limit their wants to their abilities.

The miners, being paid in proportion to their output, must
furnish their' own tools, powder, dynamite, and caps. These

1896.] THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. 463

are such expensive items that co-operative stores have been
established, and similar success has attended them. In both of
these organizations the entire management is in the hands of
the men. People who live at a distance from a store are saved
the long walk to it by the store, or at least a part of it, going
to them; for a wagon, loaded with the most essential articles
of the household, makes periodic visits from house to house.

ENCOURAGEMENT TO THRIFT.

The workmen have also instituted savings-banks. The funds
as they accrue are invested in city bonds. Since the Belgian is
fond of lottery or any matter of chance, these investments are
made in the bonds of that city which stimulates the sale of its
securities by giving with each a chance to draw a prize. In
case the share purchased by the bank secures a prize, the
amount of it is distributed amongst the depositors. At one
time there were 15 of these banks or societies. Now they are
united into one, and the annual deposits are approximately
$10,000.

From a careful study of the constitutions of the various
organizations named, as well as from conversations with owners
and officers of the mines, and from observations made in the
homes of the miners themselves, I have learned that the fixed
and invariable purpose of the owners has been to develop the
ideas of economy in the minds of the workmen, to encourage
the founding of beneficial institutions with the numerical pre-
ponderance of the men themselves in their organization and
conduct, and not to impose upon them fully developed systems
against which they might rebel, or, at best, systems to which
they could not easily adapt themselves because of the extrane-
ous origin. The company most wisely began its good work by
the establishment of maturity pensions. The workmen are
induced thereby to remain with the company, and this per-
manency causes them to take an interest in schemes which may
not bear fruit immediately, but of whose beneficence no one
doubts. This same desire to remain in the employ of the mine
prompts men to become owners of their homes, and the very
fact of ownership causes a man to place a higher estimate upon
property in general. Such men are the leaders in a community,
and when in sufficient numbers they can hold in check those
socialistic outbursts so frequent in mining districts.

464 THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. [July,

CULTIVATION OF A SPIRIT OF INDEPENDENCE.

Another point which a visit to Mariemont emphasizes is that
nothing is done there by the company to humiliate a man by
making him an object of charity, or to embarrass him by a sug-
gestion of his inferiority. Not only in their daily work do the
men select their own foremen, but they elect those who are to
assist in the management of those funds to which they are in
part contributors, and to manage all those of their own found-
ing. It might be said that the company restricts its interven-
tion to those institutions which concern the men as laborers,
while everything that is related to their private life is in their
own hands. The men purchase such articles and build for
themselves houses in keeping with their wages. If the company,
because of its power, should procure for a workman these
articles at a very low price, it would create for him a welfare
out of proportion with his legitimate earnings, especially as his
wages increased — a welfare, too, which would vanish as soon as
he withdrew from the service of the mine and which would
cause dissatisfaction with its vanishing. The object of the
company is to stimulate domestic economy without unduly ex-
citing it, to encourage the keeping of expenses within the
receipts, and to emphasize the importance of self-denial rather
than the temporary pleasure of self-gratification.

So far we have discussed the ways in which the miners
spend or invest their money; it is necessary now to describe the
means by which it is earned.

Leaving out the technical details applicable to coal-mining
only, it remains to be said merely that several years ago the
company adopted the scale-wage system. The wages vary not
only with the price of the output but also with the amount
which each individual contributes towards the output. When
the price of coal is low the miner, like the owner, must put
forth increased efforts in order not to suffer a diminution of
receipts. Since the inauguration of this plan, several years ago,
there has been a noticeable improvement in the moral as well
as the material condition of the miners. It has given to them
a spirit of independence, a feeling of self-reliance, and an in-
terest in their labor which extends beyond the limit of the
day's work.

MEANS OF AVOIDING FRICTION.

Although every possible effort is put forth to improve the
condition of the workmen and to increase their wages, for by

1896.] THE MINERS OF MARIEMONT, BELGIUM. 465

so doing the income of the mine is augmented, still there arise
differences between the company and the employees. The
officers seek, by getting as close as possible to the men, to
remove the cause of trouble before the outbreak comes. But
absolute harmony cannot always be maintained. To adjust
these differences there was instituted in 1876 councils (Chambrcs
d 'explication) in which delegates elected by the workmen meet
once every three months and fully discuss all matters pertaining
to the common interests of employers and employees, whether
it be regarding methods of working the mines, dangers that
are thought to exist, or even the financial relations and the
price of labor. In these meetings no conclusion can be reached,
that is by a formal vote, but any question of importance can
be referred to the joint council of workmen and employers.
The body is composed of 12 members, half of whom are
selected by the men, the other half delegated by the company.
It reaches a decision, which is binding on all parties, upon all
matters referred to it by the chamber just mentioned. All
matters not of a general character are referred to a committee
of four, two of whom are workmen. The conclusion reached
by this council is final for three months, during which time it
cannot be brought up for consideration. However, at the end
of that period the decision can be reversed by a majority
vote.

It can be seen at once that under the conditions here so
briefly described a strike is practically impossible. The work-
men are at all times acquainted with the yield of the mine,
the cost of production, and the price of coal. They can at any
time discuss the wages which they receive and hear in reply
the circumstances which forbid any increase in them. They
are never in ignorance as to the financial elements which regu-
late their wages, consequently the contrast in the welfare of
the owner and that of the laborer cannot suggest that the
former is prospering at the expense of the latter. Thus it is
that there is more contentment at Mariemont than can
usually be seen among 6,500 employees.

-466 THE DELINQUENT. [July*

THE DELINQUENT.

BY DOROTHY GRESHAM.

PICTURESQUE line of cottages, a great belt of
woodland ; the gable or chimney-stack of a coun-
try-house through the trees ; the sound of water
along the shore, as the blue, dancing waves of
Lake Ontario flung themselves against the yellow
sands below the hill. Afar off, beyond the Point, the wild, rol-
licking bay, sporting and pelting its foam, like gigantic snow-
balls, at the pretty islands ; a brilliant sunset, glorious cloud-
effects ; the glinting little church above the bay ; and you have
the setting of the following episode :

He had come among them, the young rector, with high hopes
and grand aspirations ; a good solid churchman, neither High-
church nor Low-church, but a happy medium of sound, regular
orthodox Protestantism ; and Protest, with a very large P, he
did against anything that savored of Rome or Popery.

Of Catholics he knew nothing except from hearsay, and
that was bad enough ! He was primed with all the spicy anec-
dotes against the church, that are always new and never old.
He knew them all by heart, and righteous indignation would
now and then spring up in his soul at the remembrance of
them. The few Catholics in the village and scattered through
his mission along the lake were harmless enough ; poor Irish
folk, simple and unlettered, whom he longed to get at and
win over from their superstition. To be sure, his attempts up
to this had been unsuccessful ; a keen thrust or pointed sally,
with their jovial native wit, and the young apostle thought
it better to retire with an unwilling smile. He would like to
know these men, even through curiosity ; but they did not want
him, and made no secret of it. " The father came once a year,
thank God ! and whenever he could ; ' and they would rather
wait till he came again," was their invariable answer to his in-
vitation to church-going.

He thought of them this Sunday morning as he stood in
the pulpit and looked down on his congregation, with the
June sun glinting through the narrow windows on the rows of
earnest faces below him. They were very aristocratic, this little

1896.] THE DELINQUENT. 467

flock by the bay, clever and cultured ; but the rector loved the
poor, and the poor knew him not. His sermons were like him-
self, polished and fervid ; his pure young face and dark eyes
shining as he spoke with the ardent soul within. He was shy,
fearfully shy, and at first repelled his people, who did not un-
derstand his apparently cold, reserved ways ; but now they had
learned to love him, as they knew him better.

He was speaking to them to-day of their love one for an-
other ; of their duties to those depending on them ; of those
in need, in trial, or temptation ; and as he dwelt on the spirit
of Jesus towards the least of the brethren, his eyes uncon-
sciously fell on a face near him — a woman's face, sweet and
beautiful, the face of a saint and a mother ; gracious, loving,
gentle, with such an atmosphere of peace that only a soul living
for and in God could win. He loved to look at her while she
prayed, and often drew inspiration from those clear gray eyes,
that always seemed to him to look straight at God.

Why did she haunt him so to-day ? Why did his whole
sympathies go out to her ? Why did wrath swell up within
him ? To think that a child of hers, with such a living example
of the virtuous teaching of the church, could fall away, could
renounce the faith of her youth, could — strange depravity ! —
become a Catholic ! He could never forgive her — he never
would ! The mother had asked him to see this wayward girl,
just come back from a convent where she had been received
into the Church of Rome. How could he ? — and he would not
promise.

He came out of the little church when service was over full
of his thoughts. The sparkling bay down below flung back the
sunlight, the peace of the rural Sabbath fell on his troubled
spirit, and he tried to be patient and pray for the erring one.
It took a whole week for the rector to make up his mind to
pay that undesired visit. It was hard work, but a stern
sense of duty at length brought him to the point.

Down the village street he strode one afternoon, severe and
dignified, his lips tight set ; but boyish and lovable with all his
apostolic indignation. Through an open gate to a short drive,
and up steep steps leading to a large, handsome house, he
marched onwards ; he stood a moment to quiet his emotions,
rang nervously, the door was flung back, and as he stepped
forward never did a more expressive back disappear within that
old hall !

Seating himself in an angle of the quaint, pleasant draw-

468 THE DELINQUENT. [July,

ing-room, with its restful air of refinement and comfort, the
subdued light of the hot June afternoon falling softly on pic-
ture and statuary, and showing the exquisite taste and charming
personality of the mistress, who was his ideal of perfect woman-
hood, he had not long to wait. A soft step came towards him ;
the well-known smile, the gracious manner, the sweet motherly
greeting soothed him at once, and in spite of himself his old
cordiality reappeared. They chatted of the village incidents :
an accident on the bay yesterday ; a desolate widow whom she
had visited ; the latest joke of one of the Irish boatmen, whose
wit was proverbial along the coast.

The rector had almost forgotten his injuries when the door
opened and a tall, striking-looking girl entered gaily. She came
forward, her gray eyes twinkling with mischief. As she looked
at her mother no one could mistake them — the same features
and expression, the same elegant graciousness ; a world of love
shone in that glance between mother and daughter, and as the
rector saw it all his dormant indignation returned, for who but
such a mother could retain affection for such a child !

He went icily through the introduction, but the Delinquent
saw none of it ; on the contrary she talked of everything under
the sun, and laughed with all the gladness of a child. Once or
twice his reverence almost relaxed into a smile, so contagious
was that musical ripple ; but he drew himself up all the more
after his almost imperceptible unbending, and nearly fell off
his chair when she spoke of her baptism at the convent. The
stiffer he grew the more confidential she became, the more
merrily her eye twinkled ; and once she laughed so archly that
an angry feeling took possession of him that she was actually
teasing him. How he longed to crush her ! but his respect for
her mother and his innate politeness restrained him. Another
sally was too much for him ; and, with all the dignity his indig-
nation would allow, he stood up and bowed himself out of her
presence, never, if he could help it, to find himself there
again.

No sooner had he gone than gay laughter rang through the
old house. "O mother!" cried the Delinquent, "what fun to
see his outraged dignity ! I did so want to tease him and make
him angry."

Her mother could not resist an involuntary smile as she an-
swered : " You must not ; he feels your desertion keenly on my
account as well, and he is so good, so ardent, so sincere, one
cannot know him without deep admiration."

1896.] THE DELINQUENT. 469

" I know, mother ; but he is so injured ; and he will never
come even to see you while I am in the bosom of my family."

And she was right. The rector got back to his room as fu-
rious as a man of his gentle nature could be ; he was hurt, nay
outraged, but it was a just indignation. How he had been
treated — he a priest of the Anglican Church! — laughed at, teased,
derided like a school-boy ; if he was young that was not his
fault. If it had been one of her own priests, no matter how
juvenile-looking, what respect, nay reverence, she would have
shown him ; and he — well, it was beyond forgiveness ! Up
and down the room he paced, the memory of her words and
looks stinging freshly at every turn, the echo of her laugh-
ter ringing mockingly in his ears. How like her mother, and,
oh ! how unlike ; and yet he could not deny her wit, her vivacity,
and — yes, her undoubted cleverness. How did she ever embrace
the superstition of Rome ? It was well enough for those igno-
rant men down there — looking with pity and contempt at some
Irishmen pulling out from the shore, as the lusty notes of
" Garryowen " came cheerily up to his window. She, he mused,
with a brilliant father and such a mother, reared in so cultured
an atmosphere, steeped to the very lips in Anglicanism — she a
Catholic ! Well, the whole thing seemed marvellous and be-
yond him, and he would try to put it out of his mind, and
pray for light for her to see the error of her ways.

Months went by, swiftly, happily ; Sunday after Sunday he
prayed and preached — in the village in the morning, and in the
afternoon in some distant mission along the lake or round the
Point, journeying through bold, romantic scenes, solitary and
beautiful, dear to his poetic soul, that carried his thoughts to
the God whom he tried so earnestly to love and serve.

Late one afternoon in September he was returning from the
bedside of a dying man, well pleased with the result of his
daily visits, rejoicing in the hopeful spirit in which the soul
was preparing for the last great struggle. Pondering on the
vanities of all earthly dreams and ambitions, he was aroused
from his thoughts by the deep, pleasant tones of a voice above
him, and looking up his eyes rested on the stately, handsome
figure of a gentleman on horseback. The rector's face lighted
with pleasure as he entered into animated conversation. Mr.
Clare talked better than any man he had ever known — his ban
mots, his stories and language were classic ; few there were
whom he admitted to his friendship, and, to every one's sur-
prise, he had from the first taken a strange fancy to the young

470 THE DELINQUENT. [July,

rector. The frank simplicity and earnestness of the clergyman
appealed to the lofty nature of the man of the world who lived
in his books and scorned all sham and pretence.

"What has become of your reverence? I have missed you,
and now have so many things to talk over. I have received a
treasure which I want you to see — a rare copy I have been
hunting for ever since I can remember."

The rector pleaded hard work, absence from home, and other
matters, all of which were true, but ignored the real reason.
Something told Mr. Clare what was passing in the young man's
mind, for he said laughingly : " You are not afraid of our ' con-
vert,' are you ? I should not be ; she is harmless. When she
has perverted her mother and me, then you had better beware ;
but till then — And he waved his hand playfully as he touched
up his horse and rode off, calling back " I shall expect you to-
morrow."

The rector walked homewards more belligerent than ever.
What misfortune brought about this interview ? His pace quick-
ened with his fiery thoughts, his stick waved in the air, swish-
ing violently everything that came in its way, guillotining the
unfortunate weeds and brambles that dared to lift up their
heads by the wayside. The fresh wind from the bay played on
his ruffled brow without in the least cooling the ardor of his
feelings. He reached home tired and pettish ; standing by the
window he looked down on the water, flushed with the setting
sun behind the woods, falling in golden bars across the bay.
The peace and beauty of the dying day soothed him, as nature
always did when those outbursts surged within him.

The rector had spent two delightful hours the following
evening in Mr. Clare's study, so charmed with one of their old
discussions that it seemed like old times. He was hoping to
get away without meeting the Delinquent, when, as he was go-
ing through the hall, a girl of fourteen came from the drawing-
room and, all unconscious of his repugnance, drew him where
Mrs. Clare and her daughter were reading. He stood it as well
as he could ; to the mother he was cordial, glad to see her,
but do what he would he froze and stiffened as the Delinquent
would talk, and banter, and laugh in that irritatingly merry way
of hers. Beside her on the sofa the child ensconced herself,
her eyes fixed on her admiringly ; she was the daughter of one
of his parishioners who, he now learned with dismay, was to
spend some time here, and under the dangerous influence of
this new convert. He expressed a most paternal interest in the

1896.] THE DELINQUENT. 471

child, and before leaving said pointedly that he intended seeing
her often during her visit.

What all his inclinations and pleasure could not influence
duty accomplished without a struggle. For the next four weeks
the rector was a frequent visitor at the old house ; he kept a
severe eye on his little charge, dreading that hated Roman in-
fluence. Sometimes the Delinquent appeared, more often not ;
but whenever she did religious discussions would surely come
to the surface. It was not her doing, he must confess ; but his
irritation found vent in dashes at her sin, and her justification
would naturally follow. Her mother was usually present at
these debates, and sat an amused and interested listener ; the
child flushed and furious that any one should dare to be so
rude to her idol.

One day, after a heated discussion, as he rose to go his an-
tagonist said calmly : " Perhaps you would not be so severe and
unjust towards the Catholic Church if you knew somewhat of
her doctrines and teachings. Will you let me give you some
of our books, and see for yourself ? They cannot do you any
harm, and they may teach you more toleration and — charity."

He looked disgusted at first ; then, seeing how hurt and sad
she looked, said for politeness' sake, " Well, if you wish it, I
will look at them."

She handed him the Imitation, saying earnestly : " Everything
I love and want is there."

He left, and for weeks they saw none of him. At last he
came one morning and asked if he might keep that little book
some time ; it required thought and study. The request was
willingly given, and as the rector was leaving he said hur-
riedly : " You have nothing else you would like me to read,
have you ? "

" Yes," she answered, giving him the only two books she
had besides the Imitation — Christian Perfection and The Catholic
Christian Instructed.

Nothing more was said on the matter, though he came and
went, flinging a stone at Rome when he got a chance, and she
was always ready with a Roland for his Oliver. When he met
her occasionally at entertainments through the winter there was
no disguise about his repulsion for her. It always amused her,
and, as their mutual friends sympathized with the rector though
they loved her, their little battles were well known across the
Point and over the bay.

As the ice broke, and the first breath of spring came over

472 THE DELINQUENT. [July,

the water, a great change was gradually noticed in the rector's
bearing towards the Delinquent. He was constantly at the old
house ; all his former harshness had disappeared ; she was the
last to notice it, as his peculiarities had grown so familiar, but
people said he had given up all hope of converting her. It
was just as well, they thought ; she was a Catholic now, alas !
and she was the one to suffer ; and — well, let it be ; there was
no accounting for tastes !

So peace was proclaimed, and things dropped into the nor-
mal ways, and the old life by the lake was cloudless and
happy. The Delinquent, coming out of an Irish cottage one
wild, stormy day, met the rector on his rounds, and together
they started homewards. Through the fury of the blast they
battled onward, the waves breaking with merry resounding
music against the cliffs. He went along in silence, and then
" I was coming to bring you this," showing her a copy of the
"Confessions" of St. Augustine ; "would you care to see it? —
and — and — I have finished the first volume of Christian Perfec-
tion, and would like to read the second." He seemed anxious
to be off, and when they reached the old house only waited
at the door till she gave him " Rodriguez " and hurried away.
It was some time before he called, and then casually asked
the Delinquent what she thought of the "Confessions"; she
replied by inquiring had he noticed where St. Augustine said
that his mother's last request to him was that he should
remember her daily in the Holy Sacrifice. What sacrifice did
she mean if it were not the Mass? St. Augustine evidently
believed in prayers for the dead, which of course he, the rector,
did not. " Perhaps I do " was all he said, and the subject was
dropped.

Two weeks later a long funeral procession wended down
the village street and up to the little Episcopal church on the
hill. Through the open doors the casket was borne within,
where the congregation were gathered for the services for the
dead. Never did the rector look more spirituel than on those
sad and solemn occasions. To-day he seemed much moved as
he spoke of the friend who had left them — brave old Captain
Wells, whom every one knew and loved, for miles along the
lake. His genial, happy smile, and kindly sunny heart were
gone from them ; but, the young preacher urged, " we must not
forget the dead, they like to be remembered ; and alas ! how
few of us ever think of them, once the sods are laid over

1896.] THE DELINQUENT. 473

them and we turn away from the church-yard. St. Augustine
tells us, as he stood at the bedside of his dying mother, St.
Monica, she asked him not to forget her, and to-day »I ask you
to remember the dead." Listening sadly to his words, seated
with her mother, who had come to see the last of their old
friend, the Delinquent was startled at the St. Augustine allu-
sion, and was eagerly waiting for the rest, when the rector
stopped, and the procession slowly left the church. The con-
gregation remained seated as the coffin was borne away, she
alone kneeling, of all who were there, to pray for the poor soul.
Behind the casket the rector followed reverently ; as he passed
his eyes fell on the solitary kneeling figure, and her expression
told him too well what she was doing. He was startled — stung
— perplexed. " Remember me daily at the Holy Sacrifice " ;
surely St. Augustine was one of theirs ; and yet — and yet —

The following afternoon found him in the drawing-room of
the old house, anxious and weary, but with his usual quiet
smile. They talked of the funeral yesterday, of the loyal old
man whom they knew so well, of the changes his death might
mean to the place and people, and then in a sudden pause he
said, "How did you ever become a Catholic?" The Delin-
quent looked at him in amazement, so abrupt, so strange his
question, and then answered very earnestly, " The goodness of
Almighty God, and the beautiful examples of saintly lives I
saw in that faith."

" What do you mean ? There are no Catholics here that
would likely influence you, I am sure."

" Yes, even here, if you knew them ; see the fidelity of those
poor Irish, their patience under every trial, their brightness,
their joy even, in every privation ; but it was not to those I
allude particularly. You may remember seeing how happy I
was last summer, when the New York cousins were here. You
refused to come near us then, and our amusements were so
delightful, so childlike in one, way, and always so supremely
happy. Last year there was a great blank in our holidays, for
one was gone who had cast a sunshine over all our fun ; he
was only a boy of seventeen, the merriest of the party, the
first in everything that was gay and mischievous ; his laugh
rang over the bay with such a light-hearted, joyous peal that
echoed the innocence of his very soul. With all that, he was so
unwaveringly, unpretendingly good ; never in all our sports and
frolic was he known to say a quick, unkind word ; every act,
and thought even, seemed angelic, and above all a complete

474 THE DELINQUENT. [July,

unconscious forgetfulness of self. We all loved him, and noth-
ing seemed right without him.

" One -evening towards the end of the vacation, at one of
our memorable gypsy-teas on one of the islands, wandering
away from the others, he told me on his return to New York
he intended entering the Jesuit novitiate. At first I could not
understand ; then slowly it dawned on me that this beautiful
life was about to be given up voluntarily, nay joyously, with
all its promise, to God. It was a revelation, and only in one
church would such a sacrifice be asked, and, -still more wonder-
ful, given, and given in such a spirit and from such a soul. I
was a Catholic from that moment. In silence we reached the
others ; I could not speak, so strangely were my thoughts and
inclinations warring within me. I said nothing to any one, but
the first letter he received from me at the novitiate began
' I am a Catholic ' — it never struck me as being absurd to write,
' I am ' ; not, ' I am going to be ' ; for I was then, and never
seemed to have been anything else. In his answer he wrote
that on reading my opening line, ' I am a Catholic,' he dropped
the letter and went at once to the chapel to thank God for
this answer to prayer. He could not tell me how many Masses
had been said and prayers offered for my conversion, and yet
he had never said one word to me ; but as his parting gift left
me a little catechism. This was now my sole instructor. I
read chapter by chapter slowly and carefully, hunting up the
references in my own Protestant Bible ; and as I read, my only
wonder was why I had not become a Catholic long ago, seeing
the truth as it really was. The cook's prayer-book was my
only help, and for half a year I waited for permission to be
received into the church. You know what a grief to my
mother ; she was so good about it, tried to hide her disappoint-
ment, but said she could not come between me and God.
Father, whom I dreaded most of all, gave his consent very
willingly, declaring the Catholic Church had always excited his
admiration ; that he had seen the extraordinary devotion of her
priests during the cholera epidemic in New York, fighting nobly
for their people when all the other clergymen fled from the
dread disease. And once going down the St. Lawrence he met
two young French priests, gay as school-boys, going to some
island where small-pox raged, and where even to land seemed
certain death. They spoke of it as if it were such a privilege
to be sent, when so many others were longing to go. Our
Protestant friends were kind, they were more hurt and sur-

1896.] THE DELINQUENT. 475

prised than angry ; indeed it was with one of them I stayed, in
New England, while under instruction for my reception into
the church."

During this narrative the rector listened attentively, without
interruption ; then kindly : " You will forgive me for the many
unjust speeches I have made to you, my harsh judgments and
criticisms. I see now how wrong I have been. I should have
sought information first ; then weighed the evidence before con-
demning you without knowledge ; my ignorance and misguided
zeal are my sole apologies.

" It is strange," he said regretfully, " how we censure the
Catholic Church and her doctrines, in perfect ignorance of
what we denounce ; on any other subject, political, social, even
physical, we should not dream of discussing without some pre-
vious study, but on such a serious matter as religion we
take it for granted that all the blood-curdling tales of our
youth must be correct, and we fling charity and truth to the
winds, and alas ! too often teach those under our charge the
same vile scandals and concoctions that have disgraced our
childhood. Though," he added, " that is but a sorry excuse ; if
we were honest men the world of books would enlighten our
dulness and bigotry."

The rector left the old house that evening armed and ready
for the fight — the most severe and painful for poor human
nature — right and wrong, peace and strife, prosperity and adver-
sity.

July, glorious and radiant, brought the merry New York
cousins to the village. How lively they made the old house on
the hill, the lake, the islands, the woods ; how gaily their jokes
rang over the water, how infectious their good humor ! They
timidly asked the rector to join their excursions, and to their
surprise he consented. At first he went to show his old pre-
judice had gone ; soon he enjoyed the novelty and the adven-
tures with the rest. He joined in their songs and witticisms,
and was in return teased, unmercifully teased (they would not
spare the whole bench of bishops, if they had the chance); the
rector gave it back with all his polish and thrust, which won
their hearts at once. Returning one evening with them across
the bay, he told them his favorite sister was about to pay him
a visit, and as a matter of course a picnic to one of the islands
celebrated her arrival. Never, it seemed, had there been such
a day ; the accidents more humorous and thrilling than usual ;
and the sun was preparing for slumber before the party were

476 THE DELINQUENT. [July,

ready to embark for the main-land. It was one of the loveliest
and loneliest spots on the bay, surrounded by hills ; the water
lay like a valley of mist between the dim outline of great
woods ; the setting sun transformed it into a superb combination
of light anjd shade. The bay plashed the golden ripples in
wanton frolic, protected by the hills which borrowed of the
heavens glories to drape their rugged sides, while wood and
water revelled in flashing sunbeams, and mocked the ever-vary-
ing sky by the ethereal beauty of their coloring. Standing
apart, the rector looked longingly yet sadly at the beloved
scene ; a determined yet happy light shone in his eyes, and
turning abruptly, he made his way to where the Delinquent
was putting the last touches to baskets and boxes before
having them carried down to the boats. It was his only chance
for what he had to say, and he felt that it must be said to-day.
" I have finished your books — and — are you surprised ? — / too in-
tend to become a Catholic ! " There was not a moment more ;
an astonished, incredulous look flashed from her eyes, and the
party went trooping down to the shore, where they soon pushed
off amid song and chorus that were echoed back by the hills,
as the merry voices died away far over the silent waters.

The weeks glided pleasantly onwards ; the rector was busy
with preparations for his departure — his one desire now to study
for the priesthood. He had seen for the first time a Catholic
prayer-book ; he had been speaking to the mother of the New
York lads of the ritual of the different churches, and of the
Mass prayers, which he wished to see, and she, little dreaming
of his intentions, gave him her own missal.

The autumn leaves were a glory of crimson and gold when
the final day at length arrived for the news to be made known,
and the rector should start forth on his unknown pilgrimage.
For the last time he stood in his pulpit, looked at his people
wistfully as they came as of old, little thinking what strange
news he was to tell them. It came at last — short, pathetic,
brotherly. He had loved them, he said ; his happiest days had
been spent with them, and now he only left them at a call that
no man but a coward could resist. It was a trial in which
God alone could help him ; the ties and affections, the church
and faith, of his youth and manhood must be given up. His
very kith and kin would now look on him as one unworthy
their name and race. Hard things would be said ; but he could
not blame, where he himself had blamed ; sometimes it seemed
as if the cross were too great, but the words of our Lord are

1896.] THE DELINQUENT. 477

emphatic : " He that loveth father or mother more than Me,
the same is not worthy of Me." The congregation were in
tears ; they could not doubt his sincerity, no matter how mis-
guided he might be. His voice trembled as he tried to con-
tinue, but it was too much ; the familiar faces that he would
never probably see again, the memory of the kindness he had
received here among them, his devoted people, came crowding
on him, and with a low, fervent " God bless you ! " he turned
away and passed out of their lives for ever.

The next evening he paid his farewell visit to th*e old
house ; he was to leave early the following morning. A letter
from the Delinquent to the late Monsignor, then Father, Preston,
was his sole introduction and help on his new road of life. He
lingered long over the parting with those dear friends, for
never again was he to meet them in this world.

He was up and away with the birds next morning ; there
were few passengers leaving the village by the old stage-coach,
and long and sadly he watched the well-known scenes fade
away. The sun was rising behind the woods, now blazing with
autumn tints ; below the water sparkled and danced, a little
yacht lay at anchor not far from the shore. The wooded
islands, two or three fishing-boats with men resting idly on
their oars, and anglers busy with rod and line, were silhouetted
sharply against the burnished bosom of the lake. The bay caught
and flashed back the changeful glories of the sun, until the
very bulrushes seemed cradled in opaline clouds, while the hills,
blue as a diadem of giant turquoises, made a majestic frame for
this never-to-be-forgotten picture. The young rector looked
until woods and water became a mere speck on the horizon, and
then turned his face steadily onwards " as of one going to
Jerusalem."

A few lines will tell the rest. Father Preston was just the
guide for such a soul. He placed him at once in the seminary
to begin his studies, which were finished in Rome, the spot he
loved dearest on earth.

VOL. LXIII. — 31

478 ^A' ErENiNG IN VENICE. [July,

AN EVENING IN VENICE.

BY M. M.

OT long ago I spent a few weeks in Venice.
Many of the evenings were passed in our gon-
dola in its liquid streets, and one conies back to
me with vividness and may be worth describing.
It is often regretted that the rich, many-
colored gondolas of other days have long ceased to be — per-
haps more by tradition now than by the law that suppressed
them — but I hardly think it is a pity. Fancy the crude, gaudy
colors likely to be chosen, and even intermingled, by ordinary
gondoliers (Poppe, as they call each other), and then say if black
and gold is not preferable.

We left the house early in the afternoon and were rowed
down the Grand Canal, passing old palaces on either side
which would in themselves make Venice incomparable. They
had been the dwelling-places of all that was noble and brave,
fair and beautiful in her sons and daughters. The windows and
the loggie — balconies, as we should call them — are rich in the
most lovely stone lace-work, and the intricate and beautiful
tracery seems as if it could fit no other city but this one — "a
golden city paved with emerald," a fairy-land with its canopy
of sapphire, its streets of liquid silver, and the unceasing music
of its rippling waves. The famed Casa d'Oro has some of the
richest and most graceful of that stone embroidery ; but there
is one palazzetto, very small, just opposite the Church of the
Salute, which I always thought matchless with its three loggie
and pointed windows. It is said to be the house of Desde-
mona. Browning's house is much further down the Canal. It
is a grand palatial abode, with handsome rough pillars. An
inscription has been placed on it to perpetuate the memory of
its connection with the poet. Byron, too, lived on the Grand
Canal at the Palazzo Mocenigo, which has been terribly mod-
ernized and uglified. There, also, Catherine Cornaro, Lady of
Asolo, Queen of Jerusalem, Cyprus and Armenia, but a daughter
of Venice, had a palace assigned to her after the resignation of
her rights to her native city. The building — a Monte di Pieta
— now pointed out as the Palazzo Cornaro della Regina, is only
on its site. As we passed under the Rialto (till within a few

1896.]

AN EVENING IN VENICE.

479

THE LIQUID STREET BY THE PALACES OLD AND BROWN.

years the only bridge spanning the Grand Canal) our conversa-
tion naturally turned to Shylock, who says :

"Signor Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my moneys,"

and the question arose as to when the bridge was built. It

480 AN EVENING IN VENICE. [July*

was begun in 1588, but Shakspere really refers to that quar-
ter of the town called by the same name and derived from
Rivo-alto. It was the centre of trade, and every kind of busi-
ness naturally found its way there.

Our destination was the little Island of S. Michele. To it
the people of Venice are borne in their last sleep, but it has
only been used as the cemetery, or Campo Santc — the Holy
Field, as the Italians call it — for the last twenty years. Its
enclosure of stone walls, on which the restless sea breaks, is
too modern to be mistaken. But if the use to which the island
is put is modern, the church is not. A church believed to
have been founded at the end of the tenth century was en-
larged a couple of hundred years later, when the island was
given to Albert, a Camaldolese monk, who founded a monas-
tery there. In 1469 the present church was built, and although
those white-cowled sons of St. Benedict and St. Romuald were
turned out of their cloister home in 1810, it is still in the
hands of religious, as it was given to the Franciscans some
time after.

Amongst the remarkable men who trod these cloisters may
be mentioned St. Romuald, himself the founder of the Camal-
dolese; Maffeo Girardi, afterwards patriarch and cardinal;
Eusebius Osorno, a Spaniard, ambassador of Ferdinand V., a
very learned and holy monk ; nearer our own times were the
famous Cardinal Zurla ; Pope Gregory XVI., who after being a
novice, monk, and professor within these walls, was raised to
the papal dignity; Costadoni, Moschini, Mitarelli, all learned
men, as well as Fra Mauro, author of the celebrated map of
the world now in the Marciana Library. In the vestibule of
the church lies Paul Sarpi, to whom a monument was erected
in Venice during our stay. His body was removed here at the
destruction of the Church of S. Maria de' Servi, where he had
been first interred.

And thus many memories group themselves round S.
Michele, and it was with many thoughts filling our minds that
we walked through the church and round the cloisters.

Our return from this sea-girt city of the dead really began
the evening, for the sun was setting in all its magnificence of
crimson and gold, throwing out the gray mountains of the
Styrian Alps and making a path of burnished gold on the sea.

"... half the sky
Was roofed with clouds of rich emblazonry,

1896.] AN EVENING IN VENICE. 481

Dark purple at the zenith, which still grew
Down the steep west into a wondrous hue
Brighter than burning gold, even to the rent
Where the swift sun yet paused in his descent
Among the many folded hills."

The bells from Venice's hundred churches one after another

broke the hushed silence, and

the Ave rang as it has rung

through the many years of her

glory and her decline — bells

mellowed and made solemn by

the centuries.

We were met by life's be-
ginning and life's ending. A
baby, lying in a cradle draped
with blue, was being taken to a
church to be baptized ; the latter
part of the day being the favorite
time, it would seem, for Venetian
ceremonies. The young father,
the delightful importance of the
girls, the attention and interest
shown, proved that it was the
first baby. A girl, too ; for go-
ing into the church, we heard
it addressed by the priest as
Marianne. As we wondered on
the future of the little life just
begun we were reminded of its
inevitable end. In a narrow
canal we met a gondola which
by its appearance we knew to
be waiting to bear across that
strip of sea one whose journey
on earth was over. We lingered
to see the coffin lifted in, and as we watched the gondolas
start I was reminded of Miss Kinloch's lovely poem in her
Song-Book of the Soul, entitled " A Funeral in Venice " :

" Carry her down the liquid street,
By the palaces old and brown ;

Though thine oars may quiver, thy heart may beat,
Oh! carry her gently down.

IT is NOT INDOLENCE ; IT is REST.

482

AN EVENING IN VENICE.

[July,

" Carry her down the silent street ;
She will lie on her bier as pale
As a gathered lily, exceeding sweet,
Untouched by the world's rude gale.

" And oh ! there is weeping of wind and wave,

And troubled each blue lagoon,
When thou floatest her down to her lonely grave,
In the light of the golden noon.

" There is a cloister of rigorous rule,

The waves are its awful grille ;
There is a city, 'tis peopled full,
Its streets are silent and still."

A few strokes of the oar and we were
opposite the Church of S. Maria .Formosa,
in which used to be kept the " Bridegroom's
Festival." It was instituted in 944 for the
following reason : It was an ancient custom
with the Venetians to celebrate the greater
number of their marriages on one day, the
anniversary of the translation of St. Mark's
body to their city. The church where they
were celebrated was S. Pietro di Castello.
There the maidens, each " holding in her
hand a fan, that gently waved, of ostrich
her veil, transparent as the gossa-
mer," hanging " from beneath a
starry diadem," wended their way,
and there were met by their in-
tended bridegrooms, " each in his
hand bearing his cap and plume,
and, as he walked, with modest
dignity folding his scarlet mantle."
On February 2, of the above-
mentioned year, they went to the
church as usual ; but pirates had
hidden themselves near, and when
the ceremony of marriage was in
its midst they rushed in and carried off the brides and their
dowries — which each one, in accordance with the custom, had
brought to the wedding in precious caskets. They were pur-
sued by the Doge Pietro Candiano, overtaken, and slain. But

A FAIRY-LAND, WITH ITS CANOPY
SAPPHIRE.

1896.]

AN EVENING IN VENICE.

483

the victory was chiefly owing to the cabinet-makers of the
parish of S. Maria Formosa, who asked as their reward that
the doge should annually visit their church on the anniversary
of that day. " But if it should rain," said the doge, " shall

THE ARMY OF DOVES GOING TO REST.

I still be bound to come?"
"Yes," they replied, "and we
will give you hats to cover you."
" But suppose that I should be
thirsty." " We will give you
to drink." Ever after the doge
went there in state on Feb-
ruary 2, and was presented with
two hats of gilt straw, two
flasks of wine, and two oranges.
Twelve maidens received a

dowry from the city in thanksgiving for the rescue of the
brides, "their lovely ancestors"; but the number was after-
wards reduced to three, and I fear that now the custom is no
longer kept up.

LISTENING TO THE BAND.

484 AN EVENING IN V EN-ICE. [July>

We wound through small canals on our way to the Piazza,
and as we neared it we passed under the Bridge of Sighs, and
by those prison windows within which so many unhappy, and
even sometimes innocent, prisoners were immured by walls of
dreadful thickness. Heavy iron bars crossed each other over
the windows, where we saw doves nestling, and underneath two
prison gondolas waiting. Although these ancient dungeons and
the Piombi — in one of which Silvio Pellico was confined — are
not now used, and have not been for many years, there are
prisons still in the old Doges' Palace.

What Piazza in the world can be compared to the Piazza of
St. Mark ? Those who have seen it can never forget it, and to
those who have not seen no description could convey an ade-
quate idea. Pictures are of some assistance, but that is all.

We left our gondola and walked between " the two " pillars
of the Piazzetta. One is surmounfed by a statue of St. Theo-
dore, the former patron of Venice ; the other by a lion. Here
executions used to be carried out, and the reason for such a
choice of place is curious. The pillars of rosy and gray rock
were brought from Greece by the Doge Michael in 1126, but
nearly fifty years passed ,away before any one could be found
with sufficient engineering skill to set them up. At the end of
this time a man called Nicholas, a Lombard, undertook and ac-
complished the work. As his reward he petitioned to be allowed
to keep tables for forbidden games of chance between them.
He could not be refused ; but he was outwitted, for the senate
in granting his request gave orders that executions should also
take place there.

Although the shadows had deepened, it was not too late to
see the army of doves, who were an anxiety to Ruskin when
he walked in the Piazza because they could not keep up with
his quick step. They were going to rest in the crevices and
cornices around. Yet it was dark enough to see the two twink-
ling lights high up on each side of the mosaic Madonna on
that part of the glorious church that faces the sea. A pretty
legend tells us that they owe their origin to a little baker's
boy. He had been condemned to death for murder, and was
carried to execution. As he passed this image, on his way to
the fatal space between the pillars, he asked as a last grace
to be allowed to pray before it. His request was granted, and
then he went to his death. Long after — a full ten years — it
was found that his master and not himself was guilty, and since
then, in memory of his last prayer, these lights have burned,

1896.]

AN EVENING IN VENICE.

485

and every criminal was allowed to pause on his way to execu-
tion and say the " Salve Regina " before that image.

After listening to the band, we re-entered our gondola.
The return to our hotel was ideally Venetian. The moon was
full, and left its trail of palpitating gold upon the waters which
reflected the many lights of Venice. The stillness was uninter-
rupted save by the splash of the oar. The beautiful little Church
of the Salute stood out like a bride in the silvery moonlight,

"THE SILENCE WAS UNINTERRUPTED SAVE
BY THE SPLASH OF THE OARS."

and the lace-like tracery of Desde-
mona's house looked lovelier than
ever. Just as we neared them the
silence was broken by the voice of
singers, and looking, we saw a gon-
dola gay with many colored lanterns, one of those which nightly,
filled with singers, make the Grand Canal resound with Venetian
and other music. From " Santa Lucia," the old and touching
Neapolitan song, they passed to a part of " Cavalleria Rusti-
cana." Its continual refrain of " Paradiso " in rich, mellow, feel-
ing voices was very touching. It was in accord with Venice,
with its beauty, its calm, its peace. Its tranquil happiness is
not indolence ; it is rest. The motto of the Bride of the Sea
rests upon her people : Pax tibi Mara, Evangclista meus.

486 MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. [July*

MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS.*

BY CHARLES A. L. MORSE.

;T has become one of the commonplaces of criticism
to say that letter-writing is a lost art ; but, like
most popular commonplaces, this particular one
expresses a somewhat superficial view. It is un-
doubtedly true that in this rushing age no one
indulges in that anxious and time-consuming habit of carefully
modelling and no less carefully polishing their written periods
which was characteristic of the semi-professional letter-writers
of the past — such as Pope and Walpole ; a habit, by the way,
common to persons of a humbler rank with a penchant for
letter-writing, if we may take Mrs. Gaskell's delicious descrip-
tion of the redoubtable Miss Jenkyns and her slate as a typical
example. But whatever of artistic grace and finish may be
lost in our less stately style is, probably, compensated for by
the greater naturalness of manner on the writer's part, and the
sense of intimate personal acquaintance which we get from the
letters of the moderns. At any rate there is a wide-spread
belief that we do not quite know the " true inwardness " of an
author's mind and views until writing-desks, boxes, and neglected
corners have been rifled of their musty accumulations, and a
mass of private correspondence has been spread before the
public eye, as soon as possible after the death of every popu-
lar philosopher, scientist, or novelist of the day. There is a
grave question in many minds whether this merciless unveiling
to public gaze of a man's sacredly private opinions and words
is not one of the most offensive evidences of the desperately
bad manners that constitute such a marked characteristic of
our end of the century life. Even so long ago as Thackeray's
day this particular type of impertinence had reached a stage in
its development that led to the great novelist's exacting a prom-
ise from his daughter and literary executor that no " Life," and
none of his letters to her, should be published. And since
Thackeray's death we have sunk immeasurably deeper into the
slough of brutal publicity — as witness Mr. Froude's spiteful ex-

* Letters of Matthew Arnold, 1848-1888. Collected and arranged by George W. E.
Russell. Two vols. Macmillan & Co.

1896.] MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. 487

posure of the Carlyle deformities, and the recent sad spectacle
of a clumsy, narrow-visioned biographer's attempt to belittle
the fame of the great Cardinal-Archbishop of Westminster by
means of his private correspondence — a performance which
Cardinal Vaughan has branded in a recent magazine as "almost
a crime." It is a question whether this insatiable appetite of
the reading world for personal details of its idols' lives and
thoughts will not in the end defeat its own object, and that by
means of the paralyzing effect which it must necessarily have
upon the private correspondence of noted men. If a man is
pretty certain that the world at large will in time have the
reading of every scrap of his writing, he will perforce fall into
the habit of writing his letters for that world. If he be a
sensitive man, he will, in so far as is possible, stifle all those
impulsive outbursts of a purely personal and human sort which
after all constitute the main charm in the letters of the
moderns ; and if he be a vain man, he will strike a pose and
retain, it throughout to the best of his ability.

In the two volumes recently published of Matthew Arnold's
letters the editor's work has been done with delicacy and tact ;
but he is guilty of the unpardonable sin of omission in an
editor — the failure to furnish an index of any sort. Whether
Mr. Arnold's letters suffered in the writing from the fact which
must have been quite distinctly shadowed in his mind, that
they, at the least, ran the chance of publication, must be a matter
of opinion. While he was not lacking in personal vanity, there
is nothing of the attitude of the poseur in his published letters ;
but although he vVas not pre-eminently a sensitive man, it is
difficult to account for their frequent dulness and occasional
commonplaceness, unless one suspects their author to have
been cramped and chilled by the thought of the " philistines "
who would some day have the reading of them. That an
essayist of such extreme distinction in matter and manner
should write a great many dull letters would seem to be a
fact needing a more adequate cause than the one advanced by
Mr. John Morley in a recent number of the Nineteenth Century,
that "Arnold was one of the most occupied men of his time."
Notwithstanding, however, the somewhat disappointing char-
acter of the letters, they afford an insight to the mind and
temperament of one of the most interesting literary Englishmen
of recent times.

Mr. W. H. Mallock, in that extraordinarily clever book The
Neiv Republic, portrays Arnold (mildly caricatured under the

488 MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. [July,

name of "Mr. Lake") as "a supercilious-looking man" who
"surveyed his surroundings with a look of pensive pity." And
in the popular idea of his prose and poetry, superciliousness is
considered the dominant tone of the former, as pensiveness is
thought to be the distinguishing note of his song. It may be
questioned whether this popular idea is a correct one, and his
letters certainly do not lend it much support, as they are
neither supercilious in tone nor pensive in idea. But they do
give one the clear impression of a very lovable side of the writer's
character. His tender, chivalrous devotion to his mother;
his pleasant tone of loving comradeship toward his sister ; his
deep affection for and fine harmony of interests with his wife ;
his ever-warm and watchful solicitude for his children's lives
and hopes and plans, lend a charm to all his letters to these
persons. The glimpses which one gets of his private life are
very delightful, too. It was a simple, kindly, healthy life, full
of high thinking and plain living, with much of the best
English love for nature and the best English regard for privacy.
Some of his letters to his wife show a genuine tenderness of
sentiment for animal pets — always a charming trait — and a
quaintly whimsical mode of expressing that tenderness, most re-
freshing as a relief from the usually too matter-of-fact manner
of his correspondence. One letter in particular (vol. ii. p. 371),
in which he bemoans the death of a much-loved pony, saying,
" There was something in her character which I particularly
liked and admired," is charming. There is a fine tone of dis-
regard for money, except so far as he desired to do all that
was possible for his family's comfort and his 'children's advance-
ment— a tone which is in full accord with the insistent anti-
materialism of his essays. As might be expected of a man with
such an extreme admiration for Hellenism in all its phases,
Arnold faced the sadness of death in his family — a sadness
which he was called upon often to face — with a certain philo-
sophical serenity, not in itself unpleasant, but cold and in its
tone a very different state from that which we call Christian
serenity.*

That he was not devoid of vanity a number of passages
show. But there is nothing of that morbid longing for praise
and the plaudits of the great ones of the world, which so often
strikes so false a note in the harmony of otherwise well-tuned

* Mr. Russell in his prefatory note gives us a meaningful picture of Arnold, on the
morning after his eldest son's death, "consoling himself" with the "Meditations" of
Marcus Aurelius.

1896.] MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. 489

souls. Perhaps the most flagrant instance of gratified vanity
in the two volumes is the following (vol. iv. p. 151): "I also
heard from Morley yesterday that George Sand had said to
Renan that when she saw me, years ago, ' Je lui faisais 1'effet
d'un Milton jeune et voyageant '; " and then Arnold goes on,
with amusing gratitude, to say : " Her death has been much in
my mind. She was the greatest spirit in our European world
from the time that Goethe departed. I must write a few pages
about her." And all this in spite of the fact that in Paris, a
few years previous (vol. i. p. 123), he had refused to go to
Berri to see George Sand, because she was " a fat old muse,"
and the weather was hot and " French travelling is a bore " !
Surely, rather insufficient causes for missing the opportunity of
communing with " the greatest spirit in Europe since Goethe's
departure."

In politics Arnold called himself a Liberal, but he was one
only in a far-fetched political sense. Toward the actual Liberal
party in English politics he seldom evinced any practical sympa-
thy. He was, in truth, a philosophical " mugwump," viewing
both political parties with disapproval, and criticising freely their
leaders. Gladstone seemed to him as "always shifting," while
Disraeli was " a charlatan." Of American politics his knowledge
was superficial, while his judgment of individuals sometimes
showed a strange confusion of thought, -as, for instance, he
preferred Grant to Lincoln.

The references in the Letters to literature and to literary
men are not particularly numerous and of not an essentially
distinguished sort. Tennyson he considered " deficient in intel-
lectual power " and " not a great and powerful spirit in any
line " ; Ruskin was " dogmatic and wrong " ; Renan he did not
think " sound in proportion to his brilliancy " ; Burns was " a
beast, with splendid gleams " ; while Coventry Patmore he
deemed " worthy but mildish " — a vague bit of criticism which
will not greatly disturb the many admirers of Mr. Patmore's
high, clear song.

The letters written during Arnold's American tours in 1883-
84, and again in 1886, show an evident disinclination on his
part to discuss our peculiar institutions and more prominent
characteristics as a people. In a letter to Mr. C. E. Norton,
of Cambridge, dated in New York, he writes (vol. ii. p. 306) :
" Herve said that at the end of his stay in London he felt
himself not to have attained ' one single clear intuition.' I will
not say that I feel myself precisely in this condition at the end

490 MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. [July,

of my stay in America, but I feel myself utterly devoid of all
disposition to write and publish my intuitions, clear or tur-
bid." This was at the end of his first visit ; after his second
tour this disposition was reversed.

For the most part his American letters are filled with gos-
sipy details of the places in which he lectured : the size of his
audiences, the people who entertained him, etc.; details of no
particular interest in themselves, and which gain little from his
manner of telling. The climate in summer and winter was not
at all to his liking ; the landscapes, as a rule, struck him as
uninteresting, and the larger cities distressed him by their
blatant newness. Speaking of the family of a wealthy mer-
chant, whose guest he was in one of the smaller Eastern cities,
he says (vol. ii. p. 267) : " The whole family have, compared
with our middle class at home, that buoyancy, enjoyment, and
freedom from constraint which are everywhere in America.
This universal enjoyment and good nature are what strike one
most here. On the other hand, some of the best English quali-
ties are clean gone ; the love of quiet and dislike of a crowd
is gone out of the American entirely. I have seen no Ameri-
can yet, except Norton at Cambridge, who does not seem to
desire publicity and to be on the go all the day long." There
was at one time, and possibly is now, a disposition on the part
of Americans to denounce Arnold as an ungenerous, fretful dis-
parager of our people, and our institutions and manners. This is
in reality an exceedingly unjust idea of his attitude toward us.
He did certainly criticise many things in our civilization ; but
so he did, in sharper and more unqualified terms, many things
in the civilization of his own people. And while one may be
justified in doubting whether it was incumbent upon the Ameri-
can people to receive the advice of a self-appointed English
mentor with the air of solemn devotion to duty that was so
noticeable a feature of Arnold's manner, still, to receive his
expression of opinion with the shrill cry of angry and vocifer-
ous denial, indulged in by the American newspapers, was but
an evidence of the narrow spirit of petty provincialism. The
newspaper press of the United States was the object of much
merited contempt from Arnold during both of his American
visits, although some passages in his letters during his second
tour would seem to show that he had learned to take news-
paper impertinences in a spirit of amused indifference. In a
letter from Chicago during his second visit (vol. ii. p. 296) he
says : " The papers get more and more amusing as we get west.

1896.] MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. 491

A Detroit newspaper compared me, as I stooped now and then
to look at my manuscript on a music-stool, to ' an elderly bird
pecking at grapes on a trellis.' ' His opinion of our news-
papers on the whole, however, was one of very strong dislike.
In writing to his eldest daughter, who lived in New York after
her marriage, he says, referring to a memorable attack by a
New York newspaper of the first class against the editor of
one of its contemporaries, during an election campaign : " Im-
agine our Times writing in this way about the editor of the
Standard 7 Say what Carnegie and others will, this is the civ-
ilization of the Australian colonies and not of Europe — distinct-
ly inferior to that of Europe. It distresses me, because Ameri-
ca is so deeply interesting to me, and to its social conditions
we must more and more come here ; but these social condi-
tions ! " And, in truth, if our civilization is to be judged by
our newspaper press, one cannot wonder at Arnold's distress.
There can be no doubt, however, but that he had a deep ap-
preciation of most of the best qualities of our people. The
characteristics which he disliked and the tendencies against
which he warned us, were the characteristics and the tenden-
cies regarding which our more thoughtful and clear-visioned
American writers have spoken in no uncertain tones. Bishop
Spalding, than whom there is no more loyal and devoted Ameri-
can, says in his Education and the Higher Life': "The average
man controls us not only in politics but in religion, in art, and
in literature," and " In our hearts we should rather have the
riches of a Rothschild than the mind of Plato, the imagina-
tion of Shakspere, or the soul of Saint Teresa." Again, he
reminds us of a disagreeable, but most necessary, truth when
he says : " It is hard to take interest in a people who have no
profound thinkers, no great artists, no accomplished scholars, for
only such men can lift the people above the provincial spirit
and bring them into conscious relationship with former ages
and the wide world." And such were the things which Matthew
Arnold sought to impress upon our minds, and never in words
more forceful and unsparing than the language of the America-
loving Bishop of Peoria.

Arnold's influence upon the religious views of English-speak-
ing Protestants it would be difficult to exaggerate. We live too
near his day, perhaps, to gauge the force of that influence with
accuracy, but that it was a wide-spread and destructive influ-
ence cannot be denied. He was undoubtedly one of the most
insidious enemies of " Orthodox " Protestantism — that is, the

492 MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. [July,

school of Protestant Christianity which has clung to a more or
less vague notion of the Incarnation — that the century has pro-
duced. A champion of the Established Church of England as
against the dissenting sects, the manner and grounds of that
defence were of a nature to horrify all except the haziest minds
among Broad-church Anglicans. His conception of the Chris-
tian religion bore the same relation to the dogmatic faith of
the historic church that the light of the moon bears to the
sun's brilliancy and heat. Clear, pale, cold — it was a reflected
light, as wanting in warmth as the moon's rays ; the best it
may accomplish is to illumine the wayfarer's pathway enough
to aid him in avoiding the pitfalls of ignorance and lust ; but
its faint glimmer guides his steps to the brink of blank infidelity,
and then the pale rays fade into blackest night. His religion
was the logical outcome of the latitudinarian views of his father
— the Dr. Thomas Arnold of Rugby fame. That the more in-
tellectual American Protestants, of all denominations, have quite
generally adopted Thomas Arnold's latitudinarianism there can
be little doubt. Matthew Arnold himself notes this fact (vol.
ii. p. 271). " The people last night were all full " of it, he
writes to his sister in England ; and again to the same, " The
strength of the feeling about papa, here in New England es-
pecially, would gratify you " (vol. ii. p. 265). Protestant re-
ligious leaders have ever been notoriously blind to the logi-
cal outcome of their theories, and as notoriously confused
in their power of detecting their own worst enemies, and
this characteristic haziness of mind was exemplified in the
attitude of the leaders of all the so-called Orthodox sects
toward Matthew Arnold during his American lecture tours.
Phillips Brooks, of the Episcopal denomination, hailed Arnold
as the apostle of " sweetness and light," and Arnold pronounced
him, after hearing him preach, to be " delightful " (vol. ii. p.
271). In the middle-west Oberlin College, a centre of Orthodox
Protestantism, received him with open arms. In New York he
lectured to the students of a Presbyterian institution of learn-
ing. Back again in New England, at that erstwhile stronghold
of Calvinistic Puritanism, Andover, the seat of a Congregational
theological seminary, he was " cheered by the students " (vol.
ii. p. 282). The spectacle of " orthodox " theological students
cheering a man whose belief regarding the Supreme Being
"differed" — to use the words of Mr. Wilfrid Ward — "little in
its essence from Mr. Herbert Spencer's Agnosticism," is a spec-
tacle to impress upon the onlooker the fact that the destructive

1896.] MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. 495

solvent of the elder Arnold's latitudinarianism is working fast
upon the crumbling ruins of " Orthodox " Protestantism. The
step from the ground occupied by the elder Arnold to that of
his son is a short and a necessary one in the evolution of Pro-
testantism, and when the " Orthodox " sects have taken that
step western Christendom will be at the threshold of that day
which is to be a time of tremendous conflict — the struggle be-
tween the legions of infidelity on the one side and the mighty
hosts of the Catholic Church upon the other.

Of Arnold's view of Catholicity the letters do not afford
much new light. He was of too fine a cultivation, and of too
cosmopolitan a type, to fall into the vulgarisms regarding the
church so rife in the published thought of otherwise scholarly
American non-Catholics — men whose Rome-hating, Reformation-
lauding traditions lead them into strangely narrow and crooked
pathways of vilification.* For the English religious revolution
of the sixteenth century he had scant sympathy ; he says (vol.
ii. p. 163): "I am glad to hear from Green, f who is expanding
his history, that the more he looks into Puritanism, and indeed
into the English Protestant Reformation generally, the worse
is his opinion of it all." Of contemporary Catholicism he writes
in a letter to his sister: "I often say to liberals that Catholicism
cannot be extirpated ; that it is too great and too attaching
a thing for that." But he seems to have had an uneasy feeling
that this was too favorable a view, for he hastened to add :
" It is easy for me to say this who look at Catholicism from
a distance, and see chiefly its grandness and sentimental side."
His idea seems to have been that, since the faith is "too
great" and "too attaching" to be destroyed by attacks from
the outside, the only hope for its enemies' success lay in gra-
dually transforming and undermining that faith, as held by the
children of the church. He wrote in this connection (vol. ii.
p. 154): " It can only be transformed, and that very gradually ";
and to a French Protestant (vol. ii. p. 132) he said: "My ideal
would be, for Catholic countries, the development of something

* This intellectual blindness, which seems to attack most non*-Catholic Americans when-
ever their gaze is turned toward the church, is by no manner of means confined to that
essentially uncultivated type so prominent among the "orthodox" Protestants. A man of
such high mental acquirements, even, as the late James Russell Lowell was capable of lapsing;
into malicious twaddle in dealing with things Catholic — as, for example, the crude absurdi-
ties to be found in his sketch called " A Few Bits of Roman Mosaic," published in his volume
of Fireside Travels.

t J. R. Green, author of A Short History of the English People, The Making of England,
etc., etc.

VOL. LXIII. — 32

494 MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. [July,

like Old-Catholicism, retaining as much as possible of old reli-
gious services and usages, but becoming more and more liberal
in spirit." From Arnold's point of view it was impossible for
Jiim to appreciate the magnitude and impossibility of such a
project, but that it was a feasible course of action even he
found reason to doubt ; he, nevertheless, clung to his theory
with a somewhat amusing tenacity, because, as he despairingly
expressed it, he could " see no other solution." Brother Aza-
rias, in analyzing Emerson's characteristics, tells us that the
famous Transcendentalisms " intellectual vision " was " near-
sighted," and these words describe not inaptly the defect in
Arnold's vision when directed toward the church ; he saw that
she was " great " and " attaching," he suspected that she was
invulnerable also ; but he was too near-sighted to be able to
account satisfactorily to himself, or to his correspondents,
for these obvious attributes of the Church founded upon the
Rock.

There is an interesting glimpse in one letter (vol. ii. p. 196)
of the all-pervading power and fascination of Cardinal New-
man's personality. " On Thursday I got a card from the
Duchess of Norfolk, for a party that evening to meet Newman.
I went, because I wanted to have spoken once in my life to
Newman. I met A. P. S.* at dinner at the Buxtons', and he
was deeply interested and excited at my having the invitation
to meet the cardinal. He hurried me off the moment dinner
was over, saying : ' This is not a thing to lose.' Newman was
in costume ; not full cardinal's costume, but a sort of vest with
gold about it and the red cap ; he was in state at one end of
the room, with the Duke of Norfolk on one side of him and a
chaplain on the other, and people filed before him as before
the queen, dropping ori their knees when they were presented
and kissing his hand. It was the faithful who knelt in general,
but that old mountebank, Lord — , dropped on his knees,
however, and mumbled the cardinal's hand like a piece of
cake. I only made a deferential bow, and Newman took my
hand in both of his and was charming. He said, ' I ventured
to tell the duchess I should like to see you.' ' This picture of
a Protestant lord on his knees " mumbling " a Roman car-
dinal's hand; of a leader of English intellectual liberalism
delighted at the opportunity of speaking for once in his life to
that same cardinal ; and of a dean of the Anglican Establish-

* The late Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, Dean of Westminster.

1896.] MATTHEW ARNOLD'S LETTERS. 495

ment " excited and deeply interested " and assuring his friend
that to be presented to that prince of the church was some-
thing " not to lose," certainly proves what a long road English
sentiment has travelled since the " No-Popery " days of the
mid-century, the days of the absurd and futile " Ecclesiastical
Titles " bill, by means of which the English government at-
tempted in vain to resuscitate the old Puritan hate and fear of
Rome.

Aside from their somewhat perplexing lack of fresh and
vivid play of intellect, such as one might naturally expect to
find in these letters, they, on the whole, deepen the impres-
sion of Matthew Arnold's character that a study of his essays
gives. Cardinal Newman, with his marvellous acuteness in
analyzing and portraying well-nigh every conceivable type of
humanity, has given us in one page of his Idea of a University
a description of " some of the lineaments of the ethical charac-
ter which the cultivated intellect will form, apart from reli-
gious principles," that might well have been written in direct
description of Arnold, so accurately does it hit upon his most
prominent mental characteristics. Says the cardinal : " He is
patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical principles ;
he submits to pain, because it is inevitable ; to bereavement,
because it is irreparable ; and to death, because it is his des-
tiny. If he engages in controversy, his disciplined intellect
preserves him from the blundering discourtesy of better, per-
haps, but less educated minds, who like blunt weapons, tear
and hack instead of cutting clean ; who mistake the point in
argument, waste their strength on trifles, misconceive their
adversary, and leave the question more involved than they find
it. Nowhere shall we find greater candor, consideration, indul-
gence ; he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is
decisive. Too profound and large-minded to ridicule religion,
or to act against it, he is too wise to be a dogmatist or
fanatic in his infidelity. He respects piety and devotion ; he
even supports institutions, as venerable, beautiful, or useful, to
which he does not assent. Not that he may not hold a reli-
gion, too, in his own way. In that case his religion is one of
imagination and sentiment ; it is the embodiment of those ideas
of the sublime, majestic, and beautiful without which there
can be no large philosophy. He invests an unknown principle
or quality with the attributes of perfection. And this deduc-
tion of his reason, or creation of his fancy, he makes the occa-

496

A WALLFLOWER.

[July.

sion of such excellent thoughts, and the starting point of so
varied and systematic a teaching, that he even seems like a
disciple of Christianity itself. From the very accuracy and
steadiness of his logical powers, he is able to see what senti-
ments are consistent in those who hold any religious doctrine
at all, and he appears to others to feel and to hold a whole
circle of theological truths, which exist in his mind no other-
wise than as a number of deductions."

The question is asked, Is not all this good ? Might not
the question better be, Is it the best ? And the answer to
this- question lies at hand, too little sought, alas ! in the won-
derful pages of Newman's noble Apologia.

A WALLFLOWER.

BY WALTER LECKY.

OW sly he peeps from yonder wall,

With rim of rosy red !
He's come at laughing June's sweet call,
Albeit we mourn'd him dead.

He heard the robin sing a lay

To cheer a brooding mate,
To make the lonely time less long
While on the nest she sate.

He knew the pansies in their bloom,
Their fragrance fresh it filled

With odors sweet his stony tomb :
Not even then he willed

To peep above the flowery throng

Or greet the king of day ;
But hid himself the stones among,

And dreamt the spring away.

FATHER CALLAC-HAN'S PLACE HAS BEEN ABLY FILLED BY FATHER MICHAEL HENRY.

HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT.

BY HELEN M. SWEENEY.

T was a day in May ; but there was no vernal
softness in the air, no balmy winds, no limpid
blue in the arching sky. Gray clouds hung over
the harbor like a pall — cold, lowering, depressing.

The Lucania was coming in.
She was forcing her noiseless way through the misty wall
that shut down between us and the sea ; cautiously she ploughed
her way up through the Narrows, past the rugged shores of
Staten Island, newly softened in tender green ; past the forts,
the islands, the Battery, and at last drew up with slow dignity
and precision at Pier No. 40.

Among her thirteen hundred souls on board that chilly May
day were three hundred and fifty cabin passengers and nine
hundred and fifty steerage.

The positive and negative poles of a battery are not more
opposite than the classes represented by the above figures.
The very manner of disembarking testifies to the difference ex-
isting between the two.

498 HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. [July,

My lady's maid gathers up the rugs, cushions, bags, um-
brellas, and steamer comforts — the thousand and one little be-
longings a woman manages to scatter about her, even when
" cribbed, cabined, and confined " in the narrow quarters of a
berth. The deft, well-trained hands assist her mistress to slip
off the loose, comfortable travelling gown, and put her into the
natty costume that has " Paris " written all over it. As the
gang-plank is thrown out my lady, coldly smiling, greets her
dear five hundred as she moves off on the arm of the first offi-
cer, who is nothing if not gallant. She steps into the softly-
cushioned carriage that for hours has been awaiting her arrival
and is whirled away ; leaving to servants, relatives, and friends
the disposal of the ten, twenty, or thirty trunks, hampers, cases,
and silver-mounted bags that seem the necessary paraphernalia
for her annual trip across.

Let us step across the deck. Here in close, narrow quar-
ters, standing like cattle waiting to be unpenned, are the thou-
sand immigrants that is the quota that the Lucania empties into
our lap to-day.

There are no languid airs, no soft tones and weary counte-
nances o'ercast with ennui here. Rugged, sun-browned faces
are lit up with hope and fear, love, joy, and sorrow. Hope for
success in the new land to which they are voluntary exiles ;
fear of the unknown future ; joy that the long-dreaded voyage is
over ; and sorrow at the memories tugging at their heart-strings ;
thoughts " that lie too deep for tears " as the village, the glen,
the mountain stream loom up before homesick eyes that per-
haps will close for ever under these skies. Here in the steer-
age are no neat-handed Abigails to collect and carry luggage.
The sturdy little mother gives an extra twist to the bright
handkerchief knotted under the dark face that was bronzed
under an Irish, German, or Italian sky, then gathers up in her
broad arms the most helpless of the dozen or so infants
she can call her own, and collects the remainder to marshal
them into line for the coming steamer. The father grasps the
cord handles of the black glazed bags, full to bursting of their
little worldly possessions, and, talking incessantly, moves forward
with the crowd to the side of the vessel where waits The Rosa,
the little steamer which plies between the incoming vessels and
Ellis Island. At length they are all transferred — Hans, with
his ruddy blonde face, his thick boots, his beloved pipe, his
stolid immobility, in such sharp contrast to his neighbor's volu-
bility ; Pat is there with Mary and his little flock, a half-humor-

1896.]

HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT.

499

ous, half-fearsome expression on his honest, open countenance
as he moves forward with the rest, jostled by Slavonian, Pole,
Scandinavian, Jew, and Austrian.

The sides of The Rosa are perilously near to the water's edge
so packed is she with her human freight. She moves swiftly
on through the tossing gray waves toward the tiny island lying
east of the gigantic Liberty that lifts her friendly torch on
high to light the way for all to new homes, new hopes, new

QUESTIONED BY THE REGISTRY
CLERK.

interests. In a few moments
the steamer is made fast to
the wharf and the long, steady
stream begins to enter the
great receiving-room.

Thousands reading these
lines to-day can recall their
own feelings of bewilderment
and terror what time they
landed, a stranger in a strange land, at old Castle Garden, one
of the landmarks of our city. Remodelled for the reception of
immigrants that began to pour into the country in the '40*3, it
has temporarily sheltered for the past fifty years the greater
part of the eighteen millions who have arrived here, one-third of
whom came in between 1880 and 1890. Forty years ago this
quaint old building was the largest auditorium in the city. It
was there that Jenny Lind and Catherine Hayes, " the Irish

5oo HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. [July*

Nightingale," delighted thousands \vith their sweet voices. To-
day it is being fitted up as an aquarium ; for in January, 1892,
the Federal government took the immigration problem out of
the hands of the State, and Secretary Carlisle removed the
Depot of Immigration to Ellis Island, with Dr. J. H. Senner as
Commissioner of Immigration for the port of New York, and
Edward F. McSweeney as Assistant Commissioner.

Ellis Island is but a tiny bit of land, but it has a history
all its own. It was here that the Dutch, and afterwards the
early English governors, stored the town's ammunition. On its
shores the Dutch made their first landing after their wreckage
at Hell-Gate had decided their settlement on Manhattan Island.
Later it w'as known as Gibbet Island because of the execution
of criminals which always took place there ; and here for the
past four years have been received the hundred thousand
strangers who have done so much for the material progress of
our land.

Nowadays most minute record is kept of every person who
enters, but from colonial days to 1820 no record was taken of
immigration ; however, it is roughly estimated that there were
one-quarter of a million added to our population during that
period. The awful famine years of Ireland added an immense
number, and lately the flood of Italian immigration which be-
gan early this year has increased to alarming proportions, a
late Atlantic liner bringing as many as 1,151 sons of Italy in
one trip. Immigrants of other nationalities have fallen off in
numbers.

How about the Lucanias load ? In that, too, the majority
were Italians, though with a large sprinkling of Germans, Irish,
and Swedes.

The landing and disposal of a big shipment of immigrants
is a most interesting sight. From the time they board Tlic
Rosa, or other of the transportation steamers, they are in a
constant turmoil of excitement, until they are tumbled like
bundles of luggage into the express-wagons at the barge-office.
Hans and Luigi, Jon and Pat are hurried about by the atten-
dants through the complicated labyrinth leading to freedom.
They obey the signs, gestures, and exhortations of the atten-.
dants as dumbly as cattle, and as patiently. They file up the
steep, narrow staircase of the main building to the long aisles
where they are questioned by the registry clerks, to whom the
dull routine of business has robbed the process of any appear-
ance of interest. But one would like to look behind those

1896.]

HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT.

501

stolid faces down into the frightened, throbbing hearts, and
sound the depths of emotion that must pervade them at what
is to many the most momentous occasion of their lives.

With little or no interest they answer the twenty questions
Uncle Sam puts before he decides whether he will adopt them
or not : name, age — and even the women don't lie — married or
single, occupation, education, nationality, destination, amount
of money, friend's or rela-
tive's name and address,
ever imprisoned, whether
under contract to labor, and
whether physically or men-
tally incapacitated, whether
deformed or crippled.

A continual hum, like
that of a mammoth bee-
hive, goes on ; but the
trouble of the guards does
not commence until their
charges catch sight of the
friends and rela-
tives at the other
end of the long
room, who have
been waiting, per-
haps for hours, for
their arrival.

With every in-
coming steamer
there is a demand
on the steamship
company for pass-
es to the island.
It is amusing to
note the difference
between the new
arrival and the friends. Among the women the dress shows the
degree of prosperity that has been met with in the new land.
The colored 'kerchief has been replaced by a wonderful creation
in millinery, where yellow and purple predominate. A great deal
of cheap lace, not over-clean, ornaments the waist, and a poor
unhappy No. 7 foot is squeezed into a No. 5 shoe. Visitors are
not allowed to come into contact with the immigrant until the

WAITING HER TURN.

502 HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. [July,

latter is finally disposed of by the authorities. As they catch
sight of each other, however, their excitement knows no bounds.
Then the Babel of tongues begins. Smiles and tears are plenti-
ful. They shriek all sorts of questions across the intervening
space, lean far out over the railing, yelling and gesticulating, till
the guard, who has lost flesh at his arduous task, more forcibly
than politely pushes them back into some semblance of order.
When finally they meet, to colder, less demonstrative eyes the
scene is touching. Frenchmen fall upon each other's necks and
kiss with undisguised emotion. Even quiet Hans embraces his
brother, who keeps the corner grocery, with half-hysterical
" Mein Gotts ! " and " Du lieber Gotts ! " The warm-hearted Irish
praise God heartily as they look through a mist of tears at the
worn faces they saw last on the dear old sod. Only the phlegmatic
English gaze calmly at their excited companions and unfamiliar
surroundings, and hold on like grim death to their corded boxes.

In many instances husbands have been separated from wives
and parents from children for many years, and fail to recognize
each other at first. When their identity is made known they
are clasped in each other's arms, and cling to their loved ones
even while being urged out of the building and down to the
ferry landing.

At the Battery the Italians have another delegation waiting
to greet them, sometimes the throng numbers thousands and
requires the united efforts of a squad of policemen stationed
there to preserve order.

Dr. Egisto Rossi, who represents the Italian government as
immigration agent at Ellis Island, attributes the extraordinary
influx of Italians to three causes : the trouble Italy is having
in Africa, the depressed financial condition of the country, and
the glowing accounts that the Italian residents of this country
are continually writing home to those expecting to come. Dr.
Rossi thinks, however, that the great rush is over now, as Italy's
financial condition is improving, as evidenced by the loan of
$140,000,000 which was floated a short time ago.

The Italian immigrant comes here to stay. There is posi-
tively no truth in the statement that his only desire is to amass
a few thousand dollars and go home to sunny Italy to enjoy
himself during the rest of his days. If he goes back at all it is
to bring out some others of his family. The registers at the
island prove these facts conclusively. The Italian immigrant
has cast his lot in America, and he brings with him some very
valuable qualities.

1896.] HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT, • 503

But it is when the immigrant leaves the Arizona, the ferry-
boat plying between the island and the city, and turns his face
toward the busy streets teeming with bustle and excitement,
that his real perplexities begin. He is then thrown on his
own resources — given over by the government to the tender
mercies of his friends, as it were.

But what of those who have no friends here, no relatives
who have gained a foothold in the new land ?

The numerous emigrant homes along State Street, a minute's
walk from the Battery, answer that question.

Years ago immigrants were the prey of dishonest and dis-
reputable agents, or the victims of sharpers. Young girls who
had left home with a song or a laugh on the lip, to hide an
aching heart, were never heard from again. With promises of
easy situations and large wages, which would enable them to
send for the old folks, they were easily lured away to ruin. It
was the recital of these abuses and the letters of inquiry that
came to the churches that roused the interest of the citizen in
the immigrant.

The Lutheran churches were the first to respond to the
appeal. Twenty-five years ago the fifteen hundred congregations
of that denomination in the United States and Canada united
their interests and formed an association for the protection of
immigrants, each congregation contributing to its support. A
house was rented just opposite Castle Garden, where the immi-
grants at that time were landed. A work was then begun
which has proved of incalculable value to the many who have
entered our gates. At present, under the name of the
" Lutheran Pilgrim House," it occupies one of the old-time
mansions at No. 8 State Street. The house conducts a regular
banking business for immigrants only ; for these German,
Swedish, and Danish travellers are a thrifty people, and rarely
land here without a little capital to start a home in the new
land. Here tickets are purchased and letters written to intend-
ing immigrants, and in each letter a yellow slip is enclosed to
serve as an identification to the officers of the association
who are stationed at Ellis Island. All those who wear the
yellow slip in their hats are singled out. If they are going to
New York they are put in charge of the missionary, who never
leaves them until they are safely sheltered in the mission house.
Good, clean beds are furnished them for twenty-five cents a
night, and plain, substantial meals at the same rate. To those
who have no money hospitality is freely extended, and help and

504 HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. [July,

advice proffered as to their spiritual or bodily needs. They are
kept there until their friends call for them or until they find
employment. The house has accommodations for one hundred
and thirty people, though it averages but fifteen a night.

For twenty years the " Norwegian Lutheran Emigrant
Mission " has been connected with the "Lutheran Pilgrim
House." Two doors east of the latter the Sisters of St. Agnes
conduct the " St. Leo House," which is run very much on the
same principles, with the exception that it was established for

MR. PATRICK McCooL HAS BEEN THE FAITHFUL AND EFFICIENT SECRETARY OF THE

MISSION.

German Catholics only, though no one is refused its hospitality.
The same prices are charged, the same work is done. Guests
for the Leo House wear a blue slip on their hats, and are
greeted by kindly, alert Mr. Fredericks, who wears on his coat
the large gold anchor of the St. Raphael Society. It is he who
conducts the little bands of his countrymen to the Arizona and
across the park to their temporary home. The Leo House has
been established for fifteen years, Bishop Wigger of Newark being
its president. It is maintained by a fund made up of voluntary
contributions of twenty-five cents a year or more from the laity.

1896.] HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. 505

With commendable forethought our German brethren generous-
ly contributed $50,000 toward the purchase of this emigrant
home, thus enabling the reverend director to begin his good
work practically free from debt.

Standing between these two German Homes is No. 7 State
Street, the home for Irish immigrant girls. Originally, in 1803,
this house was one of the handsomest residences in New York.
These three houses are all that are left of a row of twelve that
were built when State Street was the fashionable quarter of the
city. No. 4 was occupied by J. Ogden, No. 6 by William Bay-
ard, No. 12 by Samuel Cooper, and No. 7 by the well-known
sugar merchant, Moses Rogers, all of whose names are closely
identified with the city's growth.

Contributing as much, perhaps, to the welfare of the great
metropolis is the good work that is being carried on there
now by Father Henry, Father Cahill, and Father Brosnan, and
their kind and trustworthy agent, Mr. Patrick McCool.

The object of the Mission of Our Lady of the Rosary, stated
briefly, is as follows : to establish a Catholic Bureau under the
charge of a priest for the purpose of protecting, counselling,
and supplying information to the Catholic immigrants who land
at Ellis Island ; to give them a temporary home while waiting for
their friends or looking for employment, and to give them the
comfort of a chapel. It is owing to the suggestion of the Irish
Colonization Society that, in 1883, this mission was established.

During the year 1882 there were 455,450 immigrants landed
at this port. Of that vast number it is terrifying to think of
the percentage that came to harm. In May of that year a
meeting of the Irish Colonization Society was held in Chicago.
As a result of its discussion of the question, the late Bishop Ryan
of Buffalo laid before Cardinal McCloskey of New York a plan
for the amelioration of the condition of affairs, with the result
of immediately establishing the Mission of Our Lady of the
Rosary, with Father John Riordan at its head.

Father Riordan's first step toward the success he afterwards
accomplished was to make a trip through the West, and estab-
lish bureaus of information in the cities of Buffalo, Chicago,
St. Louis, Denver, Omaha, Peoria, St. Paul, and Minneapolis,
and have them work in harmony with his mission. In the
beginning his own private purse was his main reliance, but
later on appeals to his many friends and to the .charitably
disposed enabled him to gather $16,000. With this he pur-
chased No. 7 State Street. The home once established, he

506

HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT.

[July,

devoted all his time to caring for the immigrants as they
landed. The daily press recorded thousands of cases where his
helping hand, held out just at the right moment, had saved
many a girl from ruin.

Father Riordan continued his missionary work at Castle
Garden until he died in 1887. During his four years of service
he had harbored 18,800 immigrant girls. He kept a sharp look-
out for all possible and positive dangers to innocent immigrant
girls on board ship, and every offending steamship officer was
made to feel the influence of the zealous priest. Mr. McCool,
to whose active sympathy and warm-hearted service thousands

SOME TYPES OF YOUNG WOMEN.

of girls can testify, speaks most favorably of the railroad em-
ployees on this side of the Atlantic, thus furnishing another proof
of the inherent good qualities of the American man who makes
it possible for a woman to travel from end to end of our broad
land alone and unprotected and never be subjected to insult.

After Father Riordan's death he was succeeded by Father
Kelly, who, however, was compelled to give up the work in a
year from ill health. He was succeeded by Father Michael
Callaghan, who was a life-long friend of Father Riordan's, and
in manner, activity, and devotion to his work strongly resem-
bled the earnest founder of the mission.

1896.] HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. 507

It was in the late Father Callaghan's time that the great
Metropolitan Fair was held which netted to the mission the
superb sum of forty-three thousand dollars, thus assuring its
future. Father Callaghan's place has been ably filled by Father
Michael Henry.

Ever since the foundation of the mission Mr. Patrick Mc-
Cool has been its faithful and efficient secretary. His work is
immense, receiving and answering on an average fifty letters a
day, greeting the immigrant girls as they come in, directing
the friends who come to find their sisters, their cousins, and
their aunts ; but he brings to it a trained mind, a big, warm,
Irish heart, and an inborn horror of the dangers which menace
unprotected womanhood.

Next to the establishment of the mission itself, Father Rior-
dan considered in importance its connection with the St. Vin-
cent de Paul Societies throughout the Union. Fortunately he
was able to accomplish this before he died, and the organi-
zation has extended to all the large cities of the United States.

No one outside those whose business it is to take special in-
terest in the immigrant can form any idea of the necessity
which demands the co-operation of the St. Vincent de Paul
Societies. The number of immigrants landed in New York in
a single year has reached half a million. Out of this number
few have ever gone even a short distance from their homes un-
til they entered the emigrant ship. For the most part they
are entirely ignorant of the difficulties attendant upon a jour-
ney from one of the rural districts in Ireland to such distant
points as Chicago, St. Louis, and San Francisco, and require to
be directed at every step. It is only the good God, who watches
even a sparrow's fall, who knows what would become of them
but for these missions and their co-operators.*

The limited scope of an article precludes much discussion
of the immigration problem. The Contract Labor Law, with
its advantages and disadvantages, would require a paper to it-
self. The immense influx of Italians is a question that demands
solution, and that promptly, as there is not a branch of man-
ual labor in which they are not supplanting other laborers.

* Although intended primarily for Irish and Catholic immigrant girls, this Home is really
undenominational in its work, and Father Henry and Mr. McCool greet in their kindly way
many a lonely Protestant girl and care for her in the Home as carefully as for their own, the
only distinction that is made being that the Protestant girls are never asked to attend the
chapel services. It is the ardent hope of these earnest workers that Father Riordan's ambi-
tion will some day be realized, and the golden cross above a spacious chapel will flash its wel-
come from far down the bay to the weary, homesick immigrant, and point out the spot to all
where God's good work is being carried on.

5o8 HANDLING THE IMMIGRANT. [July,

These immigrants are not cared for as efficiently as the Irish
immigrant ; one reason being the fact that out of every hun-
dred there are only five women, whereas among the Irish
ninety per cent, of all who come here to-day are girls ranging
from fifteen to forty years, some of whom have neither friend
nor relative in this country.*

The law for deporting paupers, idiots, and cripples is strictly
carried out. Not long ago a young man who was only a few
hours off the ship was found in the street horribly intoxicated.
He was at once returned to Ellis Island, and
the vessel that brought him had one unwill-
ing passenger on her return trip. Sometimes
this law and its enactment has its pathetic
side, as in the case of the unfortunate Ar-
menian recently, who had been a resident of
the United States for seven years, and dur-
ing that time had constantly sent remittances
to his little family in unhappy Armenia. Some
six months ago he went out to bring them
here. When he reached the frontier he could

not, of course, enter his own country ; but he met " the wily Turk,"
who offered to convey his family out to him, taking all his
money to do it. For months he waited, but in vain. No Turk,
no money, no family. Fortunately, he thought, he had saved
his own return ticket ; but when he reached Ellis Island he was
deported as a pauper, though his old employer at Worcester,
Mass., offered to pay his fare to that place, and would gladly
take such a good workman back. Five of his fellow-country-
men pledged themselves to his support until he found work,
but the law was imperative and he was returned.

What phases of humanity, what little human tragedies, what
comedies one sees in a day spent at Ellis Island ! But running
through it all, like a silver thread, is the charity, the good
will, the kindness of one for another, the purity of heart
that holds out a helping hand to the stranger within our
gates.

* For a few weeks lately two Franciscan priests from Baxter Street Church did all that
energy, courage, and sympathy could do for their fellow-countrymen. But as all their
expenses — and they are not light : letters, meals, telegrams, etc. — came out of their own
small purses, they have been compelled to desist and leave the hordes of Catholic Italian im-
migrants unattended save by government officials.

1896.]

THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS.

509

THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS.

BY A. A. McGINLEY.

T would seem that literature had exhausted itself
in trying to express the true relation between
the love of the Divine and the love of the
human, and still it is a vexed, almost a burning
question, touching upon the inmost fold of the
heart of humanity. One science alone explains it, and that of
all sciences is the most denied, the most unknown. Few there
are who have learned even its primary principles, fewer still
who have sounded its depths. The very name of mysticism is
regarded as an anomaly in the world of ethics. Mysticism has
no place in the religious system of to-day, declares the rational-
istic mind. It is a form of religious expression which could
not exist under the searching light of intellectual truth which
science has thrown upon the problems of the metaphysical
world. It belongs to an age in which two-thirds of mankind
groped in the darkness of undeveloped intelligences, and was
but an abnormal revulsion of the spiritual faculties of a few
among the more enlightened or finer natures against the gross
and ignorant superstitions of their age regarding the super-
natural.

FALSE IDEAS.

There is an unblushing boldness in the assertions of error
which propagates its cause and spreads its doctrines with such
an irresistible force that truth often shrinks back and yields
the field, abashed and unable to withstand its onslaughts from
very modesty. Thus is it that wrong conceptions of some of the
most beautiful features of the church's doctrine, distorted and
misrepresented by the Protestant world, have gained such head-
way that from their very wide-spreadedness, though from that
alone, they are often conceded, even by some Catholics them-
selves, to be the correct interpretation.

Controlling our literature, building up our national encyclo-
paedias, collaborating our dictionaries, the world outside the
church does as it pleases in this matter, and in self-sufficient
scorn smiles at our feeble protests against the false and our
demands for unprejudiced judgments.
TOL. LXIII. — 33

5io THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. [July,

Thus, defining mysticism, our latest authority in lexicography
says, " Mysticism, as opposed to rationalism, declares that spirit-
ual truth cannot be apprehended by the logical faculty, nor
adequately expressed in terms of the understanding," when, as
a matter of fact, mysticism declares nothing of the kind, and
for this contradiction we may take no less an authority than
St. Catherine herself, the queen of the mystical world.

Singularly apropos of this question there has come but
recently before the reviewers a new version of the life and
writings of this great mystic,* prefaced by an introduction that
has been written by a master-hand. Although occupying but
a few pages of a rather large volume, it contains therein an
exposition of the subject which shows that before the writer's
mind have been ranged in all their aspects the many-sided
problems of human life and the bearing that this subject has
upon them, not alone upon what we may call their sentimental
or spiritual side, but even upon the life of sense and of prac-
tical realities.

WHAT MYSTICISM IS.

In us ordinary Christians it requires a sort of pulling to-
gether, a bracing of our spiritual nerves, to face the reading of
a life of pure mysticism, but let us dare to affirm, in excuse
for this rather cowardly shrinking of the human that is in us,
that could we have had such an interpreter as this one to
guide us we would have learned (to go down into the depths of
such lives with the eagerness and joy like to that which we
experience in ^xploring the deep and wonderful secrets of
nature.

" Mysticism," he declares, " is as real a part of the experi-
ence of man as the nervous system," and " . . . so far
from its being a delusion it is one of the most exact sciences."
It is the reduction to an emotional form of the mind's idea of
God, and the making of this idea a habit of the intellect. To
the attainment of this habit certain spiritual experiences must
be gone through with, which are extraordinary, not in the
sense that they are not possible to every human soul but that
they are practised or desired but by few. " The great mys-
tics," says this writer, "are not maniacs revelling in individual
fantasies ; they have but developed to the full extent of their

* The Dialogue of the Seraphic Virgin, Catherine of Siena. Dictated by her, while in a
state of ecstasy, to her secretaries, and completed in the year of our Lord 1370. Translat-
ed from the original Italian, with an introduction on the study of mysticism by Algar
Thorold. New York, Cincinnati, and Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

1896.] THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. 511

powers tendencies existing, in germ at least, in all normally
developed men of all time."

The mystics are but souls who, with wings of the spirit and
unburdened by the desires of the flesh, have flown higher into
that spiritual world towards which every human soul at times
looks with longing eyes. It is not because we too may not
take wing and follow, but because we will not.

THE HIGHEST EXPRESSION OF SOUL ACTIVITY.

Mysticism affords to those favored beings who are compe-
tent in brain, and ready in will for its uplift, a true and lasting
realization of that " desire for self-escape into something
higher " which is in the very marrow of our being. Nothing
can satisfy the best longings of the soul but the Infinite, be-
cause the Infinite alone is perfect truth, and truth is the
proper food of the intellect. Mysticism is but the logical ex-
planation of this craving. It explains it by a syllogism so
simple that all can grasp its significance. " For thyself, O God,
thou hast created us, and therefore our hearts shall be restless
until they rest in thee."

The first law of psychology will accept both the premises
and the conclusion. Mysticism is the spiritual term, psychology
the natural term of the science of the soul, and in an analysis
of the human consciousness the latter will agree with the
former that " the desire for ecstasy is at the very root and
heart of our nature." "This craving," says our author, "when
bound down by the animal instincts, meets us on every side in
those hateful contortions of the social organism called the
dram-shop and the brothel."

The soul shrinks from routine and inactivity as the body
shrinks from death. Activity is the life of the soul and
ecstasy is the highest expression of activity.

Why do common Christians turn away in secret disgust at
the thought of heaven and seek the pleasures of earth ? Be-
cause never has their dull consciousness drawn near enough to
the Infinite for them to feel for a moment the ecstasy which
thrills the soul at the touch of God, and which constitutes the
eternal beatitude of the elect. Not having this experience in
their mortal lives, an eternal heaven, in which our sole occupa-
tion will be an absorbed contemplation of the beatific vision,
is to them a blank ; they prefer the pleasures of earth, elect
them and enjoy them while they may.

512 THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. [July

ST. CATHERINE EXPLAINS.

Let us, however, leave our own imperfect interpretations for
awhile, and listen to the words of this mystical soul in the
dialogue between her and her Creator. This dialogue, it will
be remembered, is the expression in human words of those
mystical truths which the seraphic virgin beheld when, with
vision purified and strengthened, her gaze penetrated through
and beyond the wall of matter which hides the invisible world.
What passed between her soul and God's she expresses in her
own words, speaking his part as she does her own. It is the
Father, the Creator, the First Person of the Blessed Trinity,
with whom she communes ; and he speaks to her of the Son,
calling him "My Truth"; "The Bridge'' over the river of life
leading to the Father ; the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

" The soul I created in My image, giving her memory, intel-
lect, and will. The intellect is the most noble part of the soul,
and is moved by the affection (or will) and nourishes it. ...
The soul cannot live without love, but always wants to love
something, because she is made of love and by love I created
her. The affection moves the intellect, which, feeling itself
awakened by the affection, says : ' If thou wilt love, I will give
thee that which thou canst love'

"And at once it arises, considering carefully the dignity of
the soul, etc." And here follows in mystical language a descrip-
tion of the process by which the perfect soul sets before the
eye of the intellect a perfect image for its love and adoration.
Then how, on the contrary, "if the sensual affection wants to
love sensual things, the eye of the intellect sets before itself, for
the sole object, transitory things, with self-love, displeasure of
virtue and love of vice. . . . This love so dazzles the eye of
the intellect that it can discern and see nothing but such glitter-
ing objects. It is the very brightness of the things which causes
the intellect ±o perceive them, and the affection to love them ;
for had worldly things no such brightness there would be no sin,
for man by his nature " (mark here the key-note of all Catholic
doctrine) " cannot desire anything but good, and vice, appearing
to him thus under color of the soul's good, causes him to sin."

Truly, "what the eye does not see the heart does not long
for " ; and once having seen the highest beauty, it can love and
long for nothing else.

" We needs must love the highest when we see it ;
"Not Launcelot — nor another!"

1896.] THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. 513

cried Arthur's stricken queen when awakened conscience at
length tore away the veil that covered the hideousness of her
sin and showed her the beauty of the love that she had lost.

" It was my duty to have loved the highest :
It surely was my profit had I known ;
It must have been my pleasure had I seen."

THE GENIUS OF SANCTITY.

Genius is that expression of the human life in which the
will and intellect have reached the highest development of
which each is individually capable. But as star differs from
star in glory, so does one genius differ from another, the poets
from the painters, the philosophers from the statesmen, the
scientists from the saints. Each possesses a " personality " which
singles him out and stamps the mark of genius upon him.
But the last named of these attains to the perfection in a de-
gree (if the contradiction in the terms of comparison may be
permitted) far above and beyond that ever reached by the others.

The theme elected by genius, in which it finds above all
else its best expression of the highest good, is love. It has
been the inspiration that has guided the heart and hand and
eye of all art in all ages. It has been placed as the corner-
stone above which has been reared its noblest monuments, and
the crown that has been set upon their summits. If this is
true of the genius of poetry, painting, and sculpture, how much
more true of the genius of sanctity. Here indeed has love
given the fullest and completest inspiration ; for God has been
the corner-stone and crown of all its works, and God is love.

Thus is it proven that the genius of the saint transcends all
other genius ; for, having intellect in a supreme degree, it sets
before the eye of the intellect only a perfect image, and its per-
fect will keeps it constant to the love this image inspires.

SAINTS DIFFER AS THE AGES CHANGE.

As every age brings forth its geniuses, so every age brings
forth its saints. As in our day the form of beauty which the
poet or painter expresses differs from all preceding forms, for
originality is a condition of genius, so does the conception of
the Eternal beauty in the mind of the saint differ from that of
other ages, though in essence and principle it remains the
same. And as in the genius in the natural order we see
reflected the aspirations, the characteristics, and the environ-
ments of the age in which he lived, so also in the spiritual

THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. [July,

genius, or the saint, we find the highest expression of the
religious thought and aspirations of his day.

Stylites on his pillar, Anthony in the desert, brought each
his message to the age in which they. lived. The outward form
of their peculiar spirituality could not express our conception
of the perfect spiritual type, no more than the solemn elegy of
a century ago could now be to us the form of poetic expres-
sion that would echo the characteristics of our emotions to-day ;
for these characteristics change with the ages. What is inspiring
and poetic in one age seems exaggerated and absurd in another.

From a forgetfulness of this essential consideration arises
those confused and painful notions regarding the lives of the
saints which prevail so much among ordinary Christians. The
science of union with God is not the exclusive science of any
time or place, and the life of the mystic is as possible in the
complications and distractions of our modern life as it was in
the solitude of the mediaeval cloister.

That it is even more possible, is an assertion that we may
perhaps dare to make if we read aright the interpretation that
St. Catherine herself gives of the teaching that the Divine
Wisdom imparted to her in raising her to this union.

LOVE OF GOD SUPPOSES LOVE FOR MAN.

Of all the arguments brought against religion in these days
there is probably none more potent for evil than that one, so
often implied by the disciples of the altruistic school, that the
love of God, as taught by orthodox Christianity, can only be
perfected by an exclusion of love for man. Let the words of
God's own Spirit give the lie to such an assertion. " I require,"
he says, " that you love me with the same love with which I
love you. This, indeed, you cannot do, because I loved you
without being loved. Therefore, to me, in person, you cannot
give the love I require of you, and I have placed you in the
midst of your fellows that you may do to them what you can-
not do to me; that is, to love your neighbor of free grace with-
out expecting any return from him ; and what you do to him
I count as done to me, which My Truth showed when he said
to Paul, my persecutor, ' Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? '
This he said, judging that Paul persecuted him in his faithful.
This love (of the neighbor) must be sincere, because it
is the same love with which you love me that you must love
your neighbor. . '. . It is when the love of me is still im-
perfect that the neighborly love is so weak. ... In failing

1896.] THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. 515

in love to his neighbor a man offends me more than if he aban-
doned his ordinary exercise (of prayer), and, moreover, he would
truly find me in exercising love towards his neighbor ; for by
not succoring his neighbor, his love for him diminishes, and his
love for his neighbor diminishing, my affection towards him
also diminishes ; so that, thinking to gain he loses, and where
he would think to lose he gains. That is, being willing to
lose his own consolation for his neighbor's salvation, he re-
ceives and gains me."

Again and yet again is this law of love reiterated by the
Divine Voice : " Thou knowest that the commandments of the
law are completely fulfilled in two : to love me above everything
and thy neighbor as thyself ; which two are the beginning, the
middle, and the end of the law." There are four degrees through
which souls must pass to reach the perfect state, is said by the
Voice : fear of the Lord ; love of him for his gifts, and the
third, " which is a perfect state in which they taste charity, and
having tasted it, give it to their neighbor. And through the third
they pass to the fourth, which is one of perfect union with me.
The two last-mentioned states are united — that is to say, one
cannot be without the other, for there cannot be love of me
without love of the neighbor, or love of the neighbor without
love of me. . . . Thus will they attain to ^the love of the
friend ; and I will manifest myself to them as My Truth said in
those words : He who loves me shall be one thing with me, and I
with him ; and I will manifest myself to him, and we will dwell
together. . . . This is the state of two dear friends ; for
though they are two in body, yet they are one in soul through
the affection of love, because love transforms the lover into the
object loved ; and where two friends have but one soul there
can be no secret between them ; wherefore My Truth said : ' /
will come and we will dwell together'"

Did ever poet tell in sweeter words of the love of human
friendship?

BROTHERHOOD OF MAN IN THE LOVE FOR GOD,

And even still more does He insist upon this unity and love
among his creatures, and condemn the spiritual selfishness which
tends to separate the soul from its fellows. "If there be two
or three or more gathered together in my name, I will be in the
midst of them. Why is it said two or three or more ? The
number one is excluded, for unless a man has a companion I
cannot be in the midst. He who is wrapt up in self-love is
solitary. Why is he solitary ? Because he is separated from

516 THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. [July,

my grace and the love of his neighbor. So that he who is soli-
tary— that is, alone in self-love — is not mentioned by My Truth
and is not acceptable to me."

Can altruism plead more eloquently the brotherhood of
man ? And who shall now deny that " Catholicism is nothing
if not the religion of universal love " ? — for it must be remem-
bered, to borrow the words of the introduction to "The Dialogo,"
in the life of St. Catherine, that it is from first to 4ast but " a
mystical exposition of the doctrines taught to every child in
the Catholic Sunday-school."

" The God-idea and not the Self-idea," says the writer, " is in
the Christian scheme the centre of the soul's mystical periphery."
It has been shown to us that the God-idea is imperfect until it
has reached that degree in which love of God and love of the
neighbor are made one. "Heresy," he continues, "may be de-
fined as a centrifugal tendency of the human spirit, which in
reaction tends to replace the true centre, God, by the false cen-
tre, self. The idea under which this tendency is disguised
varies indefinitely from Arius to Luther, but the tendency is
always the same ; like the evil spirit in the Gospel, its name is
Legion."

HERESY PERVERTS HUMAN LOVE.

The strongest manifestation of this tendency in all religions
outside of the true church is shown nowhere so plainly as in
the literature of the Protestant world, with its false exaggera-
tion of the part that is played in life by the love of the sexes,
depicting the different phases of human passion — envy, hatred,
jealousy, and despair — as but the expressions of the depth and
power of this emotion. What is all this but the Self-idea and
a forgetfulness of the true relations of the soul .to God and
the neighbor? In true love such emotions have no part.
" Dost thou know how the imperfection of spiritual love for
the creature is shown ? " says the Divine Voice. " It is shown
when the lover feels pain if it appear to him that the object
of his love does not satisfy and return his love, or when he
sees the beloved one's conversation turned aside from him, or
himself deprived of consolation, or another loved more than he.
It is because his love for me is still so imperfect that
his neighborly love is so weak, and because the root of self-
love has not been properly dug out."

Here, indeed, is an analysis of the Self-idea, which is the
motive of love as it is commonly depicted to us, that strikes
at the very root of the matter. " That love which is patient
and kind, which believeth all things, hopeth all things, and en-

1896.] THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. 517

dureth all things," is not to be recognized in the selfish passion
which poses as true love in the novel of to-day. It is a coun-
terfeit which heresy alone was capable of producing, and its
existence dates from that time when heresy covered with its
baneful wings almost the whole face of the civilized world.

THE SELF-IDEA OF PROTESTANTISM.

The Self-idea in Protestantism was manifested almost at the
beginning of its career in the reigning thought of the literature
of the Renaissance, whose strongest characteristic was the re-
vival of the element of the sensuous. The restraining hand of
Catholic doctrine being lifted, there was nothing now to keep
men from pouring forth from their hearts at will and in full
tide every emotion and passion which the human heart can ex-
perience. No matter if souls might be swept away by the on-
rushing torrent, let art have its full swing and put no check on
the reins of genius.

Catholic doctrine rnight teach, if it will, that it were better
to lose a whole school of literature than that one human soul
should be sullied by an impure thought, as it had proved that
it were better to lose a nation rather than mar the integrity
of the marriage sacrament. By such teaching the world says
it but proved its ignorance and its inferiority to art. But as
the church has always, and will ever, hold to a practice consis-
tent with her teachings, so, too, has heresy worked out to a
logical fulfilment the promises it gave at the beginning of its
career. No Catholic, as such, could write the naturalistic novel
of to-day ; because the motive of such a novel is founded on
the inference that the full gratification of sensual love is the
be-all and end-all of human happiness, and this is a slander
on human life. No child of Adam would ever be willing to
accept as his full portion of happiness such gratification ; for
that portion of his being, his soul, which is the part that pos-
sesses the largest capacity for happiness, is left out of the reck-
oning altogether. They who thus depict nature have grasped
but her feet of clay, and are

" Without the power to lift their eyes and see
Her god-like head crowned with spiritual fire
And touching other worlds."

LOVE IN THE NATURALISTIC NOVEL.

" A pure naturalistic novel, in the strict sense of the word,
is an impossibility," says our author, " because natural science

5i8 THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. [July,

can no more ' organize ' human life than a knowledge of the
chemical constituents of color can make a man an art critic."

If it were, however, but a question of the value and rela-
tion of naturalism to art or literature we might yield our
ground, defeated if not convinced, but more than this and
sadder than this is the import of the question involved in the
delineation of love in the modern novel.

There is not a corner of the civilized world where its influ-
ence has not reached, nor a fold in the heart of society which
has not been touched by it. The world no longer loves ac-
cording to the way the heart dictates ; it learns the art from
the modern novel, and uses it as a text-book in which it finds
the rules and methods by which the art is best acquired. Men
and women love as they have learned to love from books. The
ingenuous love of those days in which there were no books
from which to learn the art would now be considered as un-
pardonable vulgarity. And at the end of it all it is found
that the text-books have lied ; their rules are false and their
methods failures. Yet still are the presses grinding out the
food which feeds the great divorce evil of to-day and eats the
heart out of human society ; and still is aspiring genius prosti-
tuting its mission in life by striving to satisfy more and more
the cravings of human passion by its false analysis of human
life. And how could we expect otherwise from it when at
every new delineation of the " natural " there goes up the lau-
dations of an admiring world, and a new expression of the
" psychic " (not spiritual) part of our being may to-morrow win
for a man a place among the " forty immortals."

There is no more pitiful evidence of the prevalence which
the sentiment in regard to this matter has obtained than when
we find Catholics trying to vindicate the theories of the school
of naturalism ; and even more than this, see those who have
received the talent to use their pen weakly following in the
wake of the disciples of this school.

CATHOLIC LOVE-STORIES.

Catholic literature, in order to take its stand with contempo-
rary literature, must have its love-stories, say they ; and these
stories must conform, on general lines at least, to the style which
meets the approbation of our modern critics. Imitation of that
which is good and genuine is repulsive enough, but imitation of
that which is bad is too base for us to be able to find expression
for our disgust for it. The pen in the hands of such a Catho

1896.] THE LOVE OF THE MYSTICS. 519

lie becomes as a two-edged sword, wounding both himself and his
readers. That they are not conscious in following such a course
that the reefs and shoals of sensuality lie not far ahead, but
makes their danger all the greater.

By all means let us have in our Catholic literature the faith-
ful portrayal of pure love, good and true. We will, however,
recognize it when we see it without the impertinent intrusion
upon our imagination of silly details and the sickening delin*
cations of its physical expression, that mar the beauty of the
image and take the bloom and delicacy away from the idea.

Let us admire it not only as the reflection, but as a part of
that perfect and Divine Love which will one day absorb our
being into Itself, for the purpose of God in creating it was to
give man a symbol by which he might measure with his human
faculties the depth and height and breadth of the love that he
shall possess eternally. We were to see its beauty reflected
in our hearts, as the beauty of the heavens is reflected in the
shallow pool. We know that we but see the image when we
look, but it is to us as lovely as the real ; we gaze upon it
lovingly, both the reflection and that which is reflected, for they
are one.

The part of naturalism is to destroy what is to it an illusion.
It would officially seek to " analyze," according to its own gross
conceptions, this " illusion "; and at its touch the reflection upon
which we have been gazing becomes broken and distorted, and
where once we saw the very beauty of heaven we now behold
but the clay of earth.

THE MYSTIC PERFECTS NATURE.

The study of naturalism, however, is not excluded from
mysticism ; but mysticism goes through and beyond naturalism
to the supernatural. The intricacies of human nature, in all
their sense and essence, were explored by the virgin mind of
this young saint to a depth unconceivable to an unspiritual mind.
Human nature in all its forms and aspects passed in review
before her with a realism which at times made her soul shrink
back faint, sickened, and aghast ; and yet viewing thus the
corruption of human nature as it appeared thus to her, she could
see rising far above it all the greatness and the inherent beau-
ty of the human soul.

When naturalism shall have reached its final analysis, and
when it shall have been proven to it that there is a height as
well as a depth in man's nature which human thought and ex-

520 BEATI MUNDO CORDE. July,

pression can never compass, then to mysticism will be conceded
its rightful place in the science of life, for science it is in the spiri-
tual order as much as in the natural order is the art of music,
to which of all things in art and science it bears the closest
affinity. " Mystical science is the counterpoint of the soul's sym-
phony." As one note omitted in a strain of music will create
a discord that will mar the expression of the whole, so can the
harmony of an almost perfect soul be marred by one false trait.

The soul that has acquired perfection is one that has be-
come perfectly attuned in all its faculties to the God-principle
underlying all creation. " Man's approach to God is regulated
by the strictest laws and follows a true mathematical curve."
Yet nothing could be freer than its individual action, for it can
follow no other path in this ascent than that traced for it by
its own intimate constitution.

Each soul is as a different instrument played upon by the
Divine Hand, and each produces a different strain. It will be
the blending of these strains that will make the eternal sym-
phony of heaven.

BEATI MUNDO CORDE.

BY FRANCIS W. GREY.

LEST are the pure in heart." O Love Divine !

Who seest all our weakness, all our sin ;

What foes assail us from without, within ;

What chains of earth around our hearts entwine
Thou knowest all ; and that sweet Heart of Thine
To every grief and care of ours hath grown akin,
For Thou art Man as we ; and we may win
Grace to be like Thyself. O Christ ! we pine,
We long for this alone. Lo ! Thou art pure,
Purer than words can say ; but we have turned
Careless away from Thee, nor could endure
Thy gentle yoke, Thy loving Voice have spurned.
Turn us at last to Thee ; Thy word is sure —
Not all in vain Thy Heart for us hath yearned.

1896.] ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. 521

ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.

BY ALICE C. KELLOGG.

" SUCH a perfect life as hers, again
In the world we may not see ;
For her heart was full of love and her hands
Were full of charity." — Phoebe Gary.

S I read Adelaide Anne Procter's poems and am
comforted and strengthened with their beautiful
thoughts, I am impressed that she is not known
and loved as her works and life merit ; so re-
plete are her verses with sweet thoughts for the
sad, with courage for the weak, with patience for those that
have to endure. One feels while reading, had she not realized
just this pain or sorrow she could n'ot write so feelingly and
knowingly. Adelaide Anne Procter was born in Bedford Square,
London, on the 3Oth of October, 1825. She was a daughter of
the famous " Barry Cornwall," and gifted by nature. Her early
life and surroundings were such as to aid her to develop her love
for poetry and literature ; for she met, at her father's house,
James T. Field, Dickens, Tennyson, Thackeray, and many more
celebrated in literature, art, and song. Her mother was a most
refined and cultivated person. Her father, a true poet, had al-
ways extended to her the greatest encouragement and sympathy.
From childhood she breathed an air of grace, elegance, and
kindness ; and it so permeated her being that through her
natural gift of poetry she was able to infuse and bless others
with its sweetness.

Her lofty spirit showed itself when she sent her contribu-
tions to Dickens's paper under an assumed name, lest his close
friendship for her father should cause him to accept them even
were they not up to his idea of excellence. But their own
true worth brought great commendation from this famous
genius, whose praise must have been very pleasant to the young
writer, coming, as she knew it did, not for her name but for the
beauty of her poems.

She was an untiring student, seeming to care only for a
study to master it, and then proceed to some new task. She
was somewhat of a musician and an artist. An enthusiastic

522 ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. [July,

and patient worker, her mind and heart were always filled
with some project to help the poor and unfortunate. With a
will and affection for humanity beyond her physical strength,
such ceaseless activity at last broke down even her good con-
stitution.

Some of her sweetest and strongest poems are comprised in
A Chaplet of Verses, issued in 1862 for the benefit of a night
refuge for homeless women and children in London, a work in
which she was much interested and did much to forward. They
contain that most beautiful and appropriate prayer for every
human being to offer, " Per Pacem ad Lucem," closing with
these beautiful lines :

" I do not ask my cross to understand,

My way to see ;
Better in darkness just to feel Thy hand,

And follow Thee.
Joy is like restless day ; but peace divine

Like quiet night ;
Lead me, O Lord, till perfect Day shall shine

Through Peace to Light."

When we have reached that light and can offer it truth-
fully, we are prepared to live rightly and worthy to die. Among
the purest love poems in the English language I count her
"Warrior to his Dead Bride" and "Because." "The Present"
is a stirring poem to rouse the dreamer to action, not to waste
time on the promises of the past. " Strive, Wait, and Pray "
closes with this blessed verse :

" Pray, though the gift you ask for

May never comfort your fears,
May never repay your pleading —

Yet pray, and with hopeful tears ;
An answer, not that you long for,

But diviner, will come one day ;
Your eyes are too dim to see it,

Yet strive, and wait, and pray."

So full of the mystery and divinity of poetry is " A Lost
Chord " that had she written no other I feel this poem should
have made her name immortal.

Notwithstanding the sweet, sad vein that seems to dominate

1896.] ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. 523

her verse, all her poems are permeated with a strength and
steadfastness that endue one with courage to meet life's diffi-
culties ; while they are a friend that one turns to for consola-
tion in sad or thoughtful hours. They give one sympathy, but
also urge one to work and to endure. Miss Procter was a per-
son of most bright and cheerful disposition, though her works
might impress one otherwise. She came near all sides of life,
and all were dear to her. These verses from " Maximus " speak
forcibly to one who has known failure — perhaps failure when
it signified having done right and done one's best. Though
success is sweet, under some circumstances* failure may mean
even higher reward.

" Glorious it is to wear the crown

Of a deserved and pure success ;
He who knows how to fail has won
A crown whose lustre is not less.

" Blessed are those who die for God,

And earn the martyr's crown of light ;
Yet he who lives for God may be
A greater conqueror in His sight."

As we read " Links with Heaven," the last stanza of which is

" Ah, Saints in heaven may pray with earnest will

And pity for their weak and erring brothers ;
Yet there is prayer in heaven more tender still —
The little children pleading for their mothers,"

it would seem impossible, did we not know the author to be
A. A. Procter, that these touching lines were written by any
one save a mother — one who had tasted the joy and pain of
adding a costly blossom to the world's flower-garden, and also
of giving this precious gift back to the arms of Jesus, while
they must linger to perform their duties, cheered only by the
thought that their flower was ever growing in beauty and fra-
grance in God's presence, and that when their work was pa-
tiently and faithfully finished they would be called to claim
their own. What a generous, sympathetic nature must one
have had, who had not endured the trial, to have entered into
it so entirely, and written words that must ever be such com-
fort to all mothers who are mourning the loss of their beloved
ones, that will ever give them courage to bear, and almost

524 ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. [July,

make them feel the presence of their loved ones aiding them in
their otherwise desolate journey ; also shedding a hope on their
path of a blest reunion. Her " Chaplet of Flowers" abounds
in delightful thoughts, each verse a gem in itself ; one of
which is

" These flowers are all too brilliant,

So place calm heart's-ease there ;
God's last and sacred treasure
For all who wait and bear."

A holy message* is given in the closing lines of " Life and
Death " :

" My child, though thy foes are strong and tried,

He loveth the weak and small ;
The angels of heaven are on thy side,
And God is over all."

But the beauties of her different poems crowd upon me so
that discontent forces itself into my mind because I must leave
out in any case many beautiful thoughts that plead for utter-
ance. But what charms even more than the delightful verses is
the heart that speaks through and beneath all in tenderest
accents.

Although of a restless nature, in her last sickness, which con-
tinued many months, she was a patient, cheerful sufferer, and
on the 2d of February, 1864, she fell asleep in Jesus. How
complete her trust in the dear Christ was she has beautifully
expressed in the close of " Beyond " :

" If in my heart I now could fear that, risen again, we should

not know
What was our Life of Life when here — the hearts we loved so

much below —

I would arise this very day, and cast so poor a thing away.
But love is no such soulless clod. Living perfected, it shall

rise

Transfigured in the light of God, and giving glory to the skies ;
And that which makes this life so sweet shall render Heavenly

joy complete."

A noble woman, a zealous Catholic. Faithful in all the du-
ties of life, she has received a priceless crown at her Master's
hands.

1896.]

Is IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ?

525

IS IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA?

COLOSSUS ought to look much better from a
remote point of view than from a very close
proximity. On the top of the Arc de Triomphe
in Paris there is an Olympian group, representing
men and horses, which seen from the street,
appears all symmetry, but when examined from the roof of
the arch shows nothing more sightly than rough clods of clay
flung together Pelasgian fashion. The great Colossus of the
North, as the Russian Empire is often described, reverses this
rule of vision. Tartar
barbarians, with a gor-
geous veneer of civili-
zation put on for state
occasions, is the de-
scription of the people
to which we have been
accustomed ever since
we began to hear or
read anything about
them. The monarchy
was " a despotism tem-
pered by assassina-
tion," according to
eminent English states-
men. The people were
grovelling slaves, cow-
ering in abject fear of
their despotic czars.
As we lately read the
reports of the corre-
spondents of our great
newspapers sent to
write about the Czar's
coronation, we rubbed THE LATE CZAR' ALEXANDER III.

our eyes in more wonder than Aladdin at the marvels of his
lamp.

One fact stands out most prominently in every one of these
narratives. It is now established beyond yea or nay, by the
VOL. LXIII. — 34

526 IS IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ? [July,

testimony of many impartial witnesses, that the Russian Czar
is really beloved by his subjects. All the newspaper correspon-
dents have seen so many striking evidences of this attachment
that it is impossible to doubt that their affection is entirely
sincere. Now, this fact furnishes a very important element in
the connection between ruler and ruled. Where such an affec-
tion exists as has been shown in this case, our notions as to a
despot must undergo considerable modification. Despotism is
a condition so linked in our minds with all manner of tyranny
and injustice, that we find some difficulty in reconciling it
with a connection where, on the one hand, there is the most
unbounded consciousness of a sovereignty conferred by God
and joyfully acquiesced in by the people, and on the other,
the veneration for the person of the ruler as the representa-
tive of divine and temporal authority and the illustrious up-
holder of the traditions of a conquering people. The poorer
people seem to be especially imbued with this feeling. Every-
where they went, on the public promenades, in the cafes, at
the theatres, those amazed correspondents beheld men and
women, even the very gardens at the hotels — a race not usually
noted for pious practices — praying fervently for the Czar on the
days of the chief functions in the coronation. They had never
witnessed any such fervor elsewhere. Those who had beheld
the manner in which the English and German sovereigns are
received by the masses of their subjects, when they appear in
public, were profoundly impressed by the striking contrast.
Whatever their views of the attitude of the Russian popula-
tion— whether they consider it blind servility or superstitious
infatuation — it will be impossible henceforth to speak of the
" divine figure of the North " as the hated despot whose iron
rule is only maintained by the lances of his Cossacks, and
whose death by the bomb or dagger of the Nihilist would
form the just equipoise, in a semi-barbaric state of society, to
an atrocious system of rule.

Who dare say that this is not the view in which the Czar
of Russia and his ascendency have from time immemorial
been presented by the press outside his empire, and especially
by the English press ? And will any English organ have the
temerity so to present it in the future, in face of what the
past month has witnessed in Moscow ?

It is not congenial to American feeling to behold such an
apotheosis of monarchy. It jars upon every fibre of that feel-
ing which looks to republicanism as the only manly solution

1896.]

Is IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ?

527

of the great problem of social existence. The abject prostra-
tion of millions before any one individual of the same kind,
simply because he is the personification of power, derived
originally from the people, is humiliating to our manhood.
But there we must draw the line. The Russian people see
no debasement in it, and they are the most directly interested
in the question. For good or for evil they are attached to
their autocrat, and no outsiders have the right to quarrel
with their loyalty.

Is it possible that
the whole world has
been long misinformed
about Russia, and that
what is called despot-
ism is really the best
— perhaps the only
possible — arrangement
by which the vast and
motley congeries of
peoples represented at
the Czar's coronation
could be kept within
the bounds of order?
It is no small matter
for wonder that such
widely separated and
antagonistic races and
nations could be mould-
ed into one empire,
and made to acknow-
ledge one unquestioned
authority. The ques-
tion arises — What if
the Russian Empire were broken up ? That empire covers one-
sixth of the whole territory of the globe. Something like chaos
must come again over one-half Asia and the whole of Europe.
In the words of Tennyson, there would indeed be " War and
red ruin, and the breaking down of laws."

The Russian czars have had one distinguishing peculiarity.
For the most part they have been men of ideas, and their
unique position enabled them, fortunately or unfortunately, as
the event proved to be, to put those, once formed, into prac-
tice. The house of Romanoff, in especial, was fruitful of men

THE DOWAGER CZARINA.

528 IS IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA f [July,

of ideas. It is questionable whether any other part of the
world can point to such an empire-moulder as Peter the Great.
Where else could we find a monarch who in order to get him-
self a fleet went to work to learn the mechanical minutiae of
ship-building ? Few men would have dared to do what Peter
did in another direction — to alter the style of ladies' dress by
his own bare decree. To the mass of mankind this task might
well seem a million times more difficult than that of making
a fleet or building a capital. The abolition of serfdom by
Alexander was a very notable instance of the originality and
boldness of the Romanoff mind. Few of us living here have
any idea how vast a revolution this effected, how perilous as
an economical plunge it proved to be, or how like the opera-
tion was to the rashness of playing with fire. The edict ruined
thousands of nobles, and the Russian nobles have often been
dangerous persons to trifle with. To sweep away the property
of millions of people by a simple sic jubeo, offering neither
apology nor compensation, was an act that none but a
Romanoff would dream of. Other members of the family have
had ideas and carried them out — the making of the Trans-
Siberian railway, for instance, the greatest engineering feat of
the century. The young man who was solemnly crowned at
Moscow a couple of weeks ago appears to have a full share of
the Romanoff originality and independence. This conclusion is
warranted by the course he took with regard to the Court of
Rome and the coronation ceremony.

This one little episode embraces a whole history, spiritual
and temporal.

It was not without a protracted struggle between the Court
of Russia and the Vatican that the presence of a representa-
tive of the Pope at the crowning of the Czar was secured. It
was a most delicate question of ambassadorial etiquette. Leo
XIII. would not assent to the despatching of a representative
unless he were conceded . precedence over all the other royal
envoys. This touched a matter of state procedure which had
been left unsettled by the Congress of Vienna, and owing to
there being a difficulty about it Cardinal Vannutelli, who had
been nominated to attend the coronation of the late czar, pre-
ferred to remain at home rather than create a controversy.
But now it was quite different. The Pope would send no
envoy but an envoy extraordinary, and the place of such a
Papal functionary is before all other envoys, according to
immemorial usage. Nothing could shake the Pope's resolution

1896.]

Is IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ?

529

on this point, and in the end the Russian government gave
way. When we remember that the Czar is the head of the
Russian Church as well as the Russian State, we feel the force
of his surrender on this vital point. He recognizes an author-
ity greater than his own, and rightly so, inasmuch as his
spiritual supremacy is limited to the Russian Empire, while
that of the Pope is world-wide. The spiritual ruler of the
Catholic Church has no geographical limit to his domain, and
as such his representative takes rank over all temporal princes.
And with regard to the Pope's selection of Monsignor
Agliardi as his envoy extraordinary, thereby hangs a tale.
The envoy does not yet
hold the rank of prince
of the church, a fact
which makes the conces-
sion of precedence to him
all the more remarkable.
But the Pope has selected
him for this honor be-
cause of the determined
efforts made by two ex-
alted personages to get
him discredited. Up to
a short time ago Mon-
signor Agliardi had been
the papal nuncio at Vien-
na, and while there took
sides very strongly with
the Christian Social party.
He is one of those pro-
gressive men to whom
Leo XIII. looks for the
realization of his own
broad views on the elevation of the toiling millions. With these
views he is in hearty sympathy. But the reactionary party in
the church and in the state, the hopeless school who rely upon
the vis inertia to triumph over all other schools and systems,
would have none of him. The Emperor Francis Joseph and the
King of the Belgians are strenuous disciples of this old school,
and these illustrious personages used all their power with the
Vatican to bring about the recall of Monsignor Agliardi. They
were successful in so far as having him recalled — for the purpose
of being entrusted with the highest office the Pope could ask any

THE PRESENT CZAR, NICHOLAS II.

530 Is IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ? [July,

other dignitary to undertake. This significant act sets the seal
upon Leo's document to society. He wishes all men, be they
kings or be they day laborers, to understand that the church
is on the side of honorable toil and with the just aims of a
manly democracy.

Theoretically the czardom is the head of a democracy. It
is in the working of the system that this view is proved to be
paradoxical. It has been- paternalism or blind tyranny, accord-
ing to the personal disposition of the autocrat, or the political
condition of the times. But the favorite role of the czar at
his best is that of father of his people. There is no one,
theoretically, between him and the people. The Council of
Ministers to whom he applies for advice are nominally but
the instruments of his rule ; but too often they are the real
rulers, and he but a terrified puppet in their hands. What
indications the new Czar has given lead to the belief that he is
more inclined to trust the people than any of his predecessors.
The police, of course, do not like this. They would fain sur-
round him with a battalion of body-guards and spies, forgetful
of the fact that these did not avail to save Alexander II. from
assassination in the street. Since he came to the throne he
has gone about the streets of St. Petersburg with no more cere-
mony than a private citizen. Above all, he has expressed a
desire for the prevalence of religious freedom. His words on
receiving a deputation of Poles a short time ago were strongly
significant on this point : " Be assured I make no difference on
account of your religion. All my subjects are equally dear to
me."

A couple of incidents of recent occurrence are noteworthy
as indicative of the Czar's mind on the subject of religious
toleration. The more important is 'the fact of a rebuke having
been administered to the procurator of the Holy Synod, M.
Pobedonostzeff, by the refusal of the Czar to sign the manifesto
which this functionary had drawn up for his signature. The
procurator is by his office the keeper of the imperial con-
science, and the virtual head, therefore, of the ecclesiastical
establishment. Personally this procurator is a most arrogant
and intolerant bigot, and it was owing to his evil counsels that
the late czar was induced to adopt the policy of persecution of
Catholics which disgraced his reign. To find the new Czar
setting him aside and altering his manifesto in a iiberal sense,
is certainly an augury of better things. There is another in
the invitation sent from the Imperial Chancellery to the metro-

1896.]

Is IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ?

politan, Archbishop Kozlowski, and the Catholic bishops, to for-
ward to the Minister Goremkyn and the Department for Foreign
Religions any statement of their wishes in the direction of a
modification of the laws. This the Catholic bishops had
already requested the metropolitan to do, but he, fearful of
banishment to Siberia, had refused.

The tendencies of a monarch are often indicated in his choice
of books. It is said that the French authors whom Nicholas II.
most reads are Victor Hugo and Lamartine, and the English,
Shakspere, Scott, and
Dickens. The lessons
to be got from such
minds as these are not
calculated to nourish
reactionary tendencies.

The interest which
centres around these
personal indications
derives its intensity
from the action of the
czars in the past with
regard to religious
freedom and the pro-
gressive impulses of
the people. A settled
traditional policy of
hostility to the Roman
Catholic Church has
been one of the most
noteworthy features of
Russian rule for the
past two centuries. No
religious persecution
has been more relent-
less than that of the Russian government against the Catholic
Poles. This persecution has had its root in political and
dynastic questions. It originated before the house of Roman-
off came to the throne, through the failure of the line of Ivano-
vitch, the descendants of Rurik, the founder of the Russian
Empire. There is a story connected with it something like
that of Perkin Warbeck in English history.

The last of the Ivanovitch czars, according to Russian offi^
cial history, was Feodor, son of Ivan the Terrible. A younger

THE CZARINA.

532 IS IT TO BE A NEW ERA IN RUSSIA ? [July,

brother of his, named Demetrius, was believed to have died,
either by assassination or suicide, at the age of eight years.
Feodor was weak-minded, and his brother-in-law, Boris Gondo-
nov, easily gained such influence over him as to become in time
the de facto ruler of the empire. But after some years a young
man appeared upon the scene who claimed to be Prince De-
metrius, son of Ivan, stating that he had escaped from the
hands of the assassins, and proving his identity to the satisfac-
tion of Sigismund, King of Poland, Henry IV. of France, the
King of Portugal, the Palatine of Sandomir, and other power-
ful personages. The papal nuncio at Cracow, Monsignor Ran-
goni, became an ardent supporter of his cause, and the Polish
Jesuits took it up with enthusiasm. Demetrius became a con-
vert to the Catholic Church, and married Marina, daughter of
the palatine, after he had waged a successful campaign against
Boris Gondonov and the imbecile Feodor. His claims were
recognized by the two popes of his time, Clement VIII. and
Paul V. He was crowned czar, but did not enjoy the dignity
for more than a year before he fell under the knives of assas-
sins, in the pay of one whose life Demetrius had only a little
time before spared when he had been condemned for his parti-
cipation in the early plot against himself. This man, Basil
Schonjski, then stepped into the murdered czar's place, and
founded the present dynasty of Russia. All the records of
the transaction have been carefully made to conform to the
theory that Demetrius was an impostor, and therefore rightly
got out of the way ; but a work published some years ago in
Paris, by Father Pirling, S.J., presented the strongest grounds
for believing that Demetrius was the true son of Ivan the
Terrible. But the Russian people have been taught to believe
that such is not the case, and the support which Demetrius re-
ceived from Rome, and from the Polish Jesuits and the Catho-
lics of the kingdom generally, is bitterly remembered to this
day. The course of the Romanoffs ever since that tragic event
has given new point to the reflection —

" Forgiveness to the injured doth belong :
He never can forgive who does the wrong."

It is time for the ancient feud to cease, however, whether
Demetrius were an impostor or a veritable Ivanovitch. Crime
does not excuse crime ; Schonjski is no more acceptable to
mankind than a false representative of Ivan the Terrible. If

1896.]

A SUCCESS.

533

the Poles erred in backing Demetrius, most piteously have
they atoned for their mistake. If the new Czar be imbued with
the spirit of a new and better time, as he appears to be, he
will wipe the slate clean for the writing of a new and brighter
chapter for unhappy Poland. For his own people he seems
well disposed enough. There is a magnificent part before him,
if he wishes to play it. His vast empire is rolling out its fron-
tiers and rough-hewing the paths of civilization year by year
in hitherto inaccessible places. His people are enterprising,
kindly, persevering. They look up to him as no other people
do to a sovereign, and his example must have a powerful effect
for good or evil. We can only hope that the fair auguries with
which his name began may be borne out by the results of his
reign, so that the czardom may acquire in the apprehension of
the world a less ominous meaning than history has so often
proved it to possess.

A SUCCESS.

BY MARY T. WAGGAMAN.

FRAGMENT of Fame's void whole,
A bargain bought of Pain —
The evanescent gain

Of an immortal time-fooled soul !

534

THE HANGING OF JUDAS.

[July,

THE HANGING OF JUDAS.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

SAY, Harty, old fellow, will you come for a stroll
along the quays ? 'Twill freshen us up, my dear
boy. After that crowded room I feel stifling.
'Tis a glorious night ; no lanterns or link-boys
wanted. Come along."

The speaker was a jovial-looking man, of handsome rubi-
cund face and rich mellow voice, full of the delicious Southern
Irish brogue. He was attired in full evening dress ; with a
frilled shirt-front, in which a diamond breast-pin glittered in
the moonlight. There were diamond buckles in his shoes, and
buttons of the same costly material shone along the edge of
his gold-braided purple coat.

" Nonsense, Tivy ! " replied the gentleman addressed ;
" 'twould be tempting fate. In this rig we would not walk
very far without being set upon and robbed."

" Robbed ! Get out, you great hulking son of Anak ! I
would like to see the three dare-devils who would undertake to
rob you. And we with our pinking-irons, too ! A good joke,
by the Lord Harry ! There's Miss Gould waiting for her chair.
Come, let us have another look at her before she gets in — a
goddess, sir — a goddess ! "

" 'Tis no joke at all, Tivy," remonstrated the big man,
with a desperate attempt at gravity as the two descended the
steps of the Assembly Rooms; "the city is full of sturdy beg-
gars and fellows from the mountains, and every night there is
somebody robbed or attacked."

" Well, I don'b mind running the risk as long as I have you
for company," said his companion, in a mock soothing tone.
" For while you are settling accounts with any half a dozen
that may happen to come up, I can run to call the watch ;
don't you see, Harty?"

" Get out, you incorrigible fire-eater ! You run to call the
watch ? Why, to tell the truth, my friend, my only dread
about going along with you is that you may get me into a
shindy."

The speaker glanced complacently at his gigantic nether

1896.] THE HANGING OF JUDAS. 535

limbs, clad in shining silk stockings, and not unworthy of
adorning an Apollo Belvedere, as he thrust one elbow pleasantly
into his friend's nearest ribs. The two cronies laughed hilari-
ously and made their way up the street, to the side entrance
to the Assembly Rooms, where some ladies and their male
escorts were waiting the arrival of their respective sedan-chairs.
There was a musical buzz of talk punctuated by ripples of sil-
very laughter, a shimmering of satins, a fluttering of lace, and a
flashing of jewelled sword-handles and glittering shoe-buckles as
the gay throng stood at the wide porch waiting their turns of
exit.

It had been a musical evening at the Assembly Rooms.
The great Handel had come down from Dublin to give a selec-
tion in aid of the local charities — for the time was marked by
one of those periodical famines which round off successive
epochs of maladministration in Ireland. All the Mite of Cork
— that is, the Ascendency aristocracy — were there, for the great
musician came down under the patronage of the Countess of
Cork and the Countess of Bandon, Lady Jeffreys, and other
aristocratic personages.

" By Jove, Tivy, but she's a dangerous Papist ! " whispered
Harty, bending over the shoulder of his companion and crush-
ing his left biceps in a grip meant to be affectionate, but which
made its victim wince.

" Confound you, but you're a far more dangerous Protes-
tant !" cried Tivy, shaking himself free and wriggling. "You've
turned my arm into pulp, man alive ! If all Papists have such
an effect upon you, I'll go in at last for their extermination."

"You will when the river Lee runs up St. Patrick's Hill,
but not till then, Tivy. I'd swear you love your Papist brother-
in-law, Shandy, a thousand times more than his brother,
Ludlow, who cut him out of the property by conforming."

"You might swear it, old boy. By Jove, Harty, I'd rather
have his little finger than the other's whole anatomy! I don't
believe there's a bit of sincerity in that fellow, not to mention
religion."

" Religion ! Faugh ! Don't mention it, Tivy. Such religion
as we see consists in the endeavor to get hold of your neigh-
bor's possessions and say that you are excused because you are
one of the saints. But there she goes ! What a vision of love-
liness ! Enough to make a fellow turn Mahometan if she only
asked him."

"There's nothing on the statute book about Mahomet; so-

536 THE HANGING OF JUDAS. [July.

that a fellow like you might safely make the sacrifice. But
what about a Papist ? Eh, Harty ? Do you think you would
join the idolaters if she asked you ? "

" Good faith, I would, if she were to be the idol — and I
could do that this minute without making any change at all ! "
said Harty enthusiastically. " But I suppose that matter is
already settled beyond alteration. That French fellow with
the long, queer name —

" Count de la Verrha — Verrhay de —

" Yes, that's about enough. He, it seems, has carried all
before him — confound him for a frog-eating Johnny Crapaud !
He has the title, you see."

"And he'll have the Goold too — eh, Harty?" interjected
the other with a merry cackle at his own orthoepical witticism.
" There she's landed now — safe at home ; and well she may
thank her stars for it with such a wild pack around her, and
when it's quite the fashion to run away with heiresses, whether
they have beauty or not."

" Ay, and when it means hanging, maybe ; or at the least
transportation to Van Diemen's Land, if you're caught at it —
and ' faith only it did I might be almost tempted,' " returned
Harty a little moodily and bitterly. " It's too bad to see those
foreign beggars coming over here and capturing every pretty
Papist girl that's worth the taking."

"It is maddening, my dear boy; but what can you do?
Unless you get Papist heiresses included in the Act of Parlia-
ment which enables you to demand a Papist's horse for five
pounds, I don't see any help for the grievance."

"A good idea, by Gemini! and I'll see about getting up a
deputation of eligible bachelors to press it on our city mem-
bers' attention."

While this dialogue was going on, the fair girl who was the
subject of it and an elderly lady whose chair had led the
way had mounted a flight of steps which led up to the Gould
mansion ; a stream of light had issued from the opened door,
and a crouching figure which had been concealed by the flight
of steps drew back a pace lest its rays might reveal his pres-
ence. As soon as the door was shut and the chair-bearers were
about to move off, the figure darted forward to the foremost
man. Harty and Tivy, who stood at the opening of a narrow
laneway close to the house, could easily hear his eager half-
whisper :

"My friend, tell me — are you a Catholic?"

1896.] THE HANGING OF JUDAS. 537

"A Catholic!" was the astonished reply. "Why what else
'ud I be ? Why do you ask?"

" Because, my friend, I am a Catholic priest, and there is
a party out hunting for me. I implore you, for the love of
God, to take me into your chair and find some means of get-
ting me on board a Portuguese vessel that's lying just below
the Custom-house. You do not believe me — see, there's my
stole."

The man and his companion had stood hesitating and in-
credulous, but now their doubts were removed.

"That's enough, your riverence," said the man first addressed.
" Get into the chair, and then we'll see how 'tis to be done.
'Tis likely enough that there's a watch kept on the ship, so
we'll go about it some other way. In wid you, and then my
mate an' I will fix upon some plan."

The fugitive stepped into the stuffy receptacle, and the
speaker closed the door after carefully shutting its little win-
dows and drawing the blinds. The bearers lit their pipes and
began conversing in low tones preparatory to starting.

It was on the thoroughfare known as the South Mall that
these incidents transpired. The Custom-house was situated at
the extreme end of the Mall, not a very great distance off ; but
the Mall was by no means deserted. An exceptionally brilliant
moonlight flooded the wide street, and groups of wayfarers
sauntering leisurely along could be seen for a considerable dis-
tance. The tramp of armed patrols, too, at times broke the
stillness, for the city was under a modified martial law, and
the air had been full of rumors of the return of the "wild
geese " ever since the rout of the English by the avenging brig-
ade at Fontenoy, some score of years before.

"There's a chance for you, Tivy," chuckled the big dandy.
" If you want to get yourself into good graces with the govern-
ment, now is your time."

" Much obliged to you for the compliment," retorted Tivy
a trifle stiffly. " But if my success in life is to depend on my
turning informer, priest-hunter, or thief-taker, I'm content to jog
along as I am."

Harty justified his cognomen by the genuine character of
his outburst of mirth at his friend's annoyance. He laughed
so long and so loudly at the success of his "feeler" as to at-
tract the attention of a couple of distant wayfarers, who, out
of curiosity, turned their steps in the direction of the hilarious
sounds.

538 THE HANGING OF JUDAS. [July,

Warned thus of the necessity of getting away from the spot,
the chair-bearers to whom the fugitive priest had entrusted
himself took up their burden hastily and moved off with it at
an easy, swinging pace.

An odd figure now approached the other two carriers — a
little old man, dressed in a tattered naval uniform and wearing
a three-cornered hat, with a ragged semblance of gold edging
here and there on coat and hat. He limped along with the
help of a stick.

"Good-night, Admiral Ben. How are you, old boy?" were
the greetings with which the two carriers received him.

" Good-night and good-luck," he returned cheerily. " I'm
finely, thanks be to God — only just a little bit tired, boys.
'Tis hard work, you know, reviewing all these ships the whole
day long. But duty must be done — duty must be done ! "

" Thrue for you, admiral. Maybe you'd like a lift home
now ? "

" I wouldn't object, boys ; I don't mind if I confer on you
the honor of carrying home an admiral; and maybe I'll write
to the king to get him to decorate you for distinguished ser-
vice in presence of the enemy."

" The inimy, admiral. Yerra, tell us where the inimy is.
I can't see him at all," replied one of the carriers, laugh-
ingly.

" There he is, coming along there with a couple of his
gang — that hangman, Knox. He's on the prowl for somebody
to-night, and when I couldn't give him the information he
wanted he kicked me out of his way."

" He did, admiral ? And what did you do ? "

" I did what any gentleman should. I asked him for an ex-
planation of his intentions, and instead of giving me any he
only cursed me. I'll report him to the king and have him
reprimanded. His behavior is entirely unbecoming."

" Why don't you fight him, admiral ? "

" Fight him ! You forget my rank, boys. An admiral can-
not fight with a low fellow like that — a common priest-
hunter?"

" Glory to you, admiral ! You wouldn't dirty your boots
with him. That's the gintleman all out. Here, get in, an' we'll
take you home safe an' sound."

" Thank you, boys. I want to be up early in the morning.
They're going to hang Judas on that Portuguese ship below
there, and I'm bound to be there to review the ceremony."

1896.] THE HANGING OF JUDAS. 539

"What's that he said about hanging Judas, Tivy?" said
the big beau, as the carriers moved off with " the admiral."

" Oh ! 'tis a custom the Portuguese ships always carry out
on Good Friday," answered his companion. " To-morrow — or
rather to-day, for that's one o'clock going by Shandon — they will
enjoy this religious pastime. Did you never see them at it?"

" No ; and I'd like to see the performance."

"Well, drop in on me in the forenoon, and we'll both go
down to the quay. Perhaps they'd let us on board the ship if
we're civil."

"Faugh ! Garlic and olive-oil ! I think I'd forego the honor."

" All right ; we can stay ashore then. But come away ; that
fellow Knox seems to be coming over."

" Stop. I've a notion. Let us hear what he has to say."

" He's a repulsive scoundrel ; the sight of him makes me
sick. One of those wretches who turned Protestant in order to
get hold of his poor old father's property ; and d — - a much
good it did him. Too lazy to work at his blacksmith's forge,
he's a loafer now — waiting for something to turn up in his line
— something dirty to do."

" All the better for our fun. If we don't manage to play a
trick on him, I'll stand a magnum of port."

"All right, then; but, mind, I'll have no hand in it. I
despise the creature so much that I couldn't trust myself to
speak to him."

" Leave it all to me, then. Here he comes."

Separating himself from a couple of ill-looking fellows who
accompanied him, a gaunt, slouching, large-headed, black-avised
man came over to the spot.

" Good-night, gentlemen," said he.

Tivy made no reply, but promptly turned his back upon the
speaker. Harty, however, returned the salutation.

" Well, what's the matter, Knox ? Anything up to-night ?
What rogues, rebels, or rapparees are you after now?"

"I'm after a vile traitor of a Jesuit priest, an emissary of
France," answered the fellow gruffly and eagerly.

"What's his name?"

" Oh ! he has a dozen names. Langley, I believe, is his right
one. He's in the city, I have positive information ; and his
purpose is to get away on a Portuguese ship that's down there
by the Custom-house quay."

"And you want to prevent such a misfortune and at the
same time earn a hundred pounds?"

540 THE HANGING OF JUDAS. [July,

" I want to uphold the law and serve the king," returned
the other surlily. " You didn't see any suspicious-looking per-
son about here — did you ? One of my men is certain that he
ran him to earth in this neighborhood."

" Now that you speak of it, a very questionable sort of
character was about here a little while ago. He's gone off in
a chair down there towards the shipping."

"What was he like, Mr. Harty ? "

" Hard to describe him ; but I wouldn't be at all surprised
if he was one of those erring fathers whom it is the duty of
pious sons like you to enlighten or lighten. Thiggin thu?"

Knox scowled an almost audible scowl, it was so expressive.
He would doubtless have vented his rage more freely, if he
dared. He walked off quickly as if afraid to trust himself, and
with his companions started off in pursuit of the second sedan-
chair. It had got a good start, however, and it took him a
quarter of, an hour's run to come up with it. When he had
brought the bearers to a stand-still and found that the oc-
cupant of the chair was the half-witted " admiral " upon whom
he had lately vented his spleen for some trifling pleasantry, he
executed some feats in profanity, and would have pulled the
poor old creature out of the vehicle to abuse him further but
for the interference of the chairmen.

Meanwhile Father Langley had been borne off to the house
of a well-known merchant at the farther end of Old George's
Street, close to Warren's Place. From thence to the Custom-
house quay was only a matter of a few hundred yards.

It was the only house in the street on which light was
visible. As the owner was one whose business, that of ship-
chandler, necessitated frequent night-duty, he had been ac-
corded the privilege denied to his neighbors who had no such
excuse. Moreover he was a Protestant, and a citizen above
suspicion or reproach.

One of the chairmen rang the bell, and the summons was
soon answered by the merchant himself — a venerable, cheery-
looking man, whose silvery curls gave his ruddy, honest face a
look as of the presiding deity of active business.

" Mr. Wycherley," said one of the men, touching his hat
with an unfeigned air of respect, " we have taken the liberty
of bringing to you a poor gentleman who is in danger. To
put it plainly, sir, he is a priest, and there are people on the
look-out for him. He wants to get away to-morrow by that
Portuguese ship below there, and if you would be so kind as

1896.] THE HANGING OF JUDAS. 541

to shelter him for a few hours 'tis all he'd ask. There's no fear
of any one coming here to look for him."

George Wycherley looked at the face of the man inside the
chair before he made answer. He was one of those who de-
pend a good deal upon what they read in the human counte-
nance. In the gentle, patient, and refined face of the hunted
priest he read enough to satisfy him.

" My friends," he said to the chair-bearers, " you have paid
me a compliment higher than anything you could say in bring-
ing this gentleman to my house. Come in, sir, if you please,
and make yourself perfectly at home."

He extended a welcoming hand as he spoke, to assist the
priest from the vehicle, and led him up the steps and into the
house.

The priest had offered the men some money, but they would
take nothing from him but a blessing. Mr. Wycherley insisted
on their accepting a crown from him.

George Wycherley was a type of a noble-hearted few whose
generosity lighted the gloom of the penal days. His mother
had been a Catholic, and his father so liberal a Protestant, and
so respected as an honorable man, that a neighbor of his, who
had been proscribed after the Williamite war, had left him his
personal property in trust for his children ; and most faithfully
was the trust discharged. To emulate his parents in charity
a>nd justice had been George Wycherley's great ambition through
life.

He made no attempt to gain any knowledge of the business
which had brought his guest to Ireland. He knew fall well
that that business was connected with the interests of the pro-
scrib2d religion. He never for a moment had given ear to the
many concocted tales of popish plots with which the enemies
of the old creed filled the public mind for the basest of pur-
poses. He preserved too tender a recollection of his gentle
mother, and her wise and loving counsels, to believe she could
be so firmly attached as she was to a religion so gross and
mundane in its objects as Catholicism was represented to be by
its detractors.

He brought his guest into the back parlor of his house, put
out the lights in the front, so as to remove all suspicion, and
sat with him until daybreak listening delightedly to the learned
priest's conversation while he did the honors of the table. At
daybreak they started for the ship, Mr. Wycherley drawing his
guest's arm within his own. They met nobody but the sentries
VOL. LOCIII. — 35

542 THE HANGING OF JUDAS. [July,

outside the Custom-house. A solitary boatman was stationed
at the slip below Warren's Place.

A few hundred yards down the river lay the craft of which
Father Langley was in quest. She was a scooped-out-looking
sort of ship, whose mid-deck line lay very close to the water's
edge, while her bow shot up obliquely like a bird's bill, and a
squat, three-windowed coup6 was perched top-heavy-looking at
her stern.

They hailed the boatman, who was nodding at his ferryr
and in a brief space they were clambering up the ladder which
the men of the San Pedro had let down the ship's side.

In a few words Father Langley, who spoke in Spanish,
made known his mission to the mate, and the mate roused the
captain. Then the captain roused the cook, and then the cook
roused the crew, and, although it was Good Friday morning,
there was quite a joyous bustle on board the ship.

Only the blue peter showed on her mizzen-mast, the visitors
observed as they approached. Now/the captain had the flag of
Portugal run up on her main-mast as well.

The mists of morning soon lifted from the bosom of the
river and began rolling up the beautiful wooded heights of
Glanmire and Tivoli. By and by people began assembling on
the quays at either side of the river, in expectation of the cu-
rious spectacle of the hanging of Judas in effigy.

The swarthy Portuguese mariners, dressed in bright fantastic
costumes, assembled on the deck about ten o'clock, and pro-
ceeded to hold a solemn court over the culprit Judas. A very
life-like figure of a man represented the arch-traitor. Counsel
for prosecution and defence spoke briefly, and then the judge,
the ship's mate, delivered sentence. Judas was to be keel-hauled,
whipped, and hanged at the yard-arm, as often as his stuffed
figure could stand the punishment.

Chanting a weirdly mournful sea-hymn, the mariners bore
the culprit off to his doom. They suspended him from the
yard-arm, ducked him in the river, and then hauled him up
and gave him the rope's end unstintedly. Then they chanted
another pathetic melody and dragged him from end to end of
the ship and under the keel. Then they hitched him up again
to the yard-arm and sang another vociferous requiem. All
this they went through with the same gravity and earnestness
as if the figure had been a real thing of flesh and blood under-
going a merited punishment.

Messrs. Harty and Tivy were in the crowd that in the

1896.] THE HANGING OF JUDAS. 543

forenoon watched this quaint "mystery" from the quay. As
they stood there they saw a boat row over to the side of the
ship, which lay ready to weigh her anchors, in the middle of
the stream.

"There goes Knox, by Jupiter!" cried Harty excitedly.
" He's got on the priest's scent, and there's going to be
trouble."

What transpired then was plainly visible to many. Only
one man was allowed to get aboard the ship from the boat,
and this was Knox. The captain stood at the gangway warn-
ing the others off, with a few of the crew armed with marlin-
spikes to repel them in case they invaded his vessel. Knox
was seen expostulating with the captain and gesticulating with
much vehemence.

Then a cry of rage could be distinctly heard by those on
shore, as Knox moved over to a quiet-looking man leaning
against the bulwark and seized him by the collar. A rush was
made upon him, he was flung upon the deck, and in a twink-
ling his hands and feet were bound and he was run up to the
end of the yard-arm.

Then the quiet-looking man came forward, and appeared to
be expostulating with the men. They waved him respectfully
away, and in a moment or two the stuffed figure had given
place to the real one. Knox, the priest-hunter, was allowed to
take the part of Judas Iscariot !

They soused him into the water and keel-hauled him until
he was nearly dead. Were it not for the intercession of
Father Langley, they would probably have finished the per-
formance according to their ideas of poetical justice, by hang-
ing him in earnest at the yard-arm.

While the startled onlookers were watching these movements
in fear and wonder, the vessel had got ready for sea, and
before Knox could be rescued from his danger the vessel was
out of reach.

Toward evening Knox was picked up by a carman, as he
was wandering in a sorry plight toward Passage West. There
a boat from the San Pedro had put him ashore. He was found
gazing ruefully upon a placard containing the speech of King
George III. encouraging all loyalists to uphold "the Protestant
interest." " The Protestant interest ! " muttered Knox bitterly.
" Much good it was to me when I was nearly drowning. I'll
go home and set up my forge and work at my trade for the
future, and let the Protestant interest look after itself."

544 A TANGLE OF ISSUES IN CANADA. [July,

A TANGLE OF ISSUES IN CANADA.

the electoral battle will have been
fought and won by one side or the other in Can-
ada before the issue of this magazine, it is not
irrelevant to make some observations on the salient
points in the fight. The great interest for all
parties centred around the education question. Circumstances
have combined to elevate that question, as it affects Manitoba,
to one of the first magnitude. Like Aaron's rod, it has swal-
lowed up all other questions by its own intrinsic importance.
This is the case in Manitoba at least ; in the rest of the Do-
minion the interest of the constituencies is divided between the
Manitoba problem and the question of protection or tariff re-
form. Is it a very startling thing to find that the Catholic
bishops have advised the Catholic voters to support the party
which is pledged to do the Catholics of Manitoba justice in
the vital matter of their children's education ? To us it would
seem a dereliction of their duty had they held their peace at
such a crucial moment. Bishops, although they be Catholics,
have rights as other citizens have, and it is not unlawful for
men connected with labor or philanthropic associations to meet
and recommend certain men and measures in politics to the sup-
port of the public. There is nothing in the office of a Catho-
lic bishop or priest to deprive him of the fundamental right*
of a free constitution. Hence we say that the expressions of
surprise we find in certain non-Catholic publications over the
action of the Canadian bishops belong to that order of rhetoric
which is popularly known as cant. There is no fact more widely
known, because there is no attempt to disguise it, than the
active interference, often amounting to pulpit indecency, of
non-Catholic ecclesiastics, in the United States, in political
struggles. Deprecation of the course taken by the Dominion
episcopate by non-Catholic organs is, under these circumstances,
something suggestive of the piety of Pecksniff and Chadband.
Whether the Conservative party have lost or won, there can
be no doubt that the Catholics were well advised in giving
them their support. Nothing could be clearer or manlier than
the position taken up by Sir Charles Tupper, their leader, on
the Manitoba school question. He insisted that the public faith

1896.] A TANGLE OF ISSUES IN CANADA. 545

of the Dominion was at stake in the settlement of this ques-
tion, and that if it repudiated the guarantees given the Mani-
toba Catholics on the entry of their province into the Cana-
dian Confederation it forfeited its honor as a state. If the
Legislature of Manitoba desired to trample solemn undertak-
ings under foot because the relative proportions of the reli-
gious denominations had changed since then, such evil ex-
ample could not be imitated with safety by the larger Legisla-
ture. This was the position taken up by Sir Charles Tupper.
On the other hand Mr. Laurier, who led the Liberal campaign,
sought to shelve the school question by the device of a com-
mission to inquire into the facts. This is a transparent subter-
fuge. The facts have been investigated ad nauseam, and the
Privy Council in England, which is the tribunal of ultimate
resort, has decided that the Catholics must not be deprived of
the rights guaranteed them by the State and the Dominion
jointly before they consented to enter the Confederation. It is
discreditable for organs which professedly support the cause of
truth and morality to encourage the Orange majority in Mani-
toba in a course of shameless oppression and a flagrant breach
of publiq faith.

A MEDITATION.

BY VIATOR.

|NTO the house of mourning I will go,

Beside the bed of death to take my place,
And learn upon the rigid form to trace
The lesson of life's journey here below,
I said, intent to find that house of woe,
When Conscience, holding forth its wizard key,
Whispered : Amid the hall of memory,
Whose door this opes, the dead I will thee show ;
Go, enter softly, and, with tender tread,
Beside yon lonely couch thy station take ;
Behold a form thereon in starkness laid,
No more to rise till doomsday's morn shall break;
Thy present self bent o'er thy past self dead —
There mutely gaze and meditation make.

WHAT stagnancy has befallen modern literature
that the resurrectionist is abroad ? It surely can-
not be that there is a lack of living authors that
the dead worthies who have played their part and
had their day are being dragged into a post-mortem
notoriety. Old works out of print and out of mind — and
deservedly so — are thrust upon the market again without the
slightest demand on the part of the public. Were it not for
the respectability of the firms whose imprint they bear, we
might suspect that thrift had something to do with the matter,
since it costs nothing to produce a time-expired book save the
printer's bill. Recently we had to protest against the resusci-
tation of Carleton's distortions of Irish life. Now we have to
denounce the reproduction of a still more outrageous carica-
ture— the piece of literary buffoonery called Handy Andy*

Of Lover's own purpose in writing this roaring extravagan-
za, save to gratify a vulgar appetite for such horse-play as
passes for fun in an English pantomime, it is hard to conjec-
ture. He must have been not altogether insensible to the
injury likely to result from the presentation of such characters
as abound' in Handy Andy. We find him dismissing the vil-
lains of his work in the following most decorous piece of
moralizing :

" It is better to leave the base and the profligate in oblivion
than drag iheir doings before the day. . . . There is plenty
of subject iifforded by Irish character and Irish life honorable
to the land, pleasing to the narrator, and sufficiently attractive
to the reader, without the unwholesome exaggerations of crime
which too often disfigure the fictions which pass under the
title of ' Irish,' alike offensive to truth as to taste — alike injuri-
ous both for private and public considerations."

If we substitute for the word "crime" in the foregoing
piece of censure the word " humor," we have Lover's condem-

* Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. New York : Macmillan & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 547

nation pronounced out of his own mouth. His hero Handy
Andy is simply a grotesque exaggeration — witless, vulgar, and
besotted ; and the remainder of the company fit only for such
a roaring farce. No doubt in Ireland, thanks to English
influence and English corruption in the days which preceded
Lover's boyhood, grotesque types of character existed ; but that
such types serve the purposes of prejudice we have proof in
the utterly illogical and contradictory introduction written for
this issue of the book by Mr. Charles Whibley.

After telling the reader that " its incidents are as impos-
sible as its characters ; you know that none of these comedies
could have happened," Mr. Whibley goes on coolly to say (of
Squire O'Grady's mother) " The picture is excellently imagined ;
and the old lady's appearance in Dublin with a brace of duel-
ling pistols and the cuckoo to see fair play, was assuredly
seized from life."

Lover wrote in an age when such drivel as Handy Andy
paid the author to write — just as "jungle" yarns pay Mr.
Rudyard Kipling just now. His Handy Andy is hardly any
more a reflection of Irish life at any time than Rabelais was
of mediaeval French.

We welcome a new edition of Rosa Mulholland's charming
Irish story, Marcella Grace* and must congratulate the publish-
ers, Benziger Brothers, on the exceedingly elegant binding and
fine illustrations which embellish this issue. This is a specimen
of Irish literature which one can commend without the slight-
est reservation. Its plan and workmanship show that to the
true artist and pure-minded litterateur it is not necessary to
the success of a work that the nauseous and the prurient ele-
ment in human nature be presented as the subject of study,
nor the morbid appetite for sensational and harrowing incident
be catered for. Neither in this work is there observable the
faintest effort to create effect by the microscopic delineation of
the little things of life, which makes so large a part of the aim
of the new school. The author knows the value of such
materials in their proper place, but wisely aims to depict
human nature by means of the workings of the heart and
the intellect rather than the number of patches on its raiment
and the quantity and quality of the weeds in its back garden.
There are no theories to be sustained, no literary fads to be

* Marcella Grace. By Rosa Mulholland. New York, Cincinnati, an Chicago: Ben-
ziger Brothers.

548 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

aired in Rosa Mulholland's work ; and the reader who cannot
find genuine pleasure in its easy grace and effortless power
must be insensible to the worth of genuine literary work.

We are reminded of the prairie device of fighting fire by
starting another fire in an opposite direction by a little book of
the erotic school called A Summer in Arcady* In a very stilted
and enigmatically-worded preface the author avows his intent
to make use of some very plain language in telling his love-
story, but only for a high and noble purpose — namely, to stem
the demoralization that the recent flood of bestial literature
has produced. The remedy seems more homoeopathic than
allopathic, after it has been carefully examined, and not a little
reminds us of the warning against the handling of edged tools
by certain elements of society. It would be ridiculous to call
this production a story. It is a homily against the negligence
of parents in not being more plain-spoken to their children on
questions affecting their moral welfare. The tone in which
this lesson is conveyed would seem to imply that the Fourth
Commandment is out of date, or rather that its vocative and
objective should change places. Respect for parental authority
is not, unfortunately, the most conspicuous trait of our golden
youth, and the result of the general spirit of precocious inde-
pendence is pretty often a scorn of the most solemn warnings
and the sagest advice from father and mother when these run
counter to the own sweet will of the spoiled and puffed-up
product of a false educational ideal. As a proof of his sin-
cerity in tendering advice, the author dedicates this effort of
his genius to his mother.

Another theory of this preachy and nauseous novelette is
that immorality in young people is a hereditament. This is one
of the latest fads of the Lombroso school of theorists. It is
shocking to find the true doctrine of the accessibility of sacra-
mental grace to every soul, under proper guidance, confronted
by this fatalistic superstition. Obscene literature is bad enough ;
sham philosophy and false religion are worse.

Mr. F. Hopkinson Smith possesses a strong style of story-
telling. When he sits down to write one, it is a story he tells,
not a thesis in philosophy he propounds.

In Tom Grogan f he paints with graphic touch the struggles
of a brave, big-hearted, masculine sort of Irishwoman to carry

* A Summer in Arcady. By James Lane Allen. New York : Macmillan & Co.
t Tom Grogan. By F. Hopkinson Smith. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mifflin
&Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 549

on business after her husband's death, and defeat the machinations
of the Labor Union. The latter are depicted as being of a
very pronounced Sing-Sing-deserving type. Although the book
appears to be written for the purpose of arousing prejudice
against labor organizations, it has a pathetic story running
through it, and its technique is very life-like. We have no
doubt it will be read with pleasure by people on the capitalist
side. The book has many nice plates.

A translation of Dr. Wederer's Outlines of Church History
has been made and published by the Rev. John Klute. The
work is useful as a guide or exegesis, but does not pretend to
be of any more help to the student. Being intended for the
use of English-speaking scholars, a good deal of the original
text of Dr. Wederer, having no relevancy to that object, in the
translator's view, has been omitted. He has had recourse in
making his translation to the excellent manuals of Alzog and
Brueck. The book bears the imprimatur of the Bishop of
Cleveland, Right Rev. Dr. Horstmann. It is published by the
Catholic Universe Publishing Company, Cleveland, Ohio.

Brief biography may be regarded, in its skilful execution,
as a fine art. To present the leading facts of a man's life in
the world, and his life in the spirit, requires something more
than the laconicism of a Caesar. The art was understood by
the learned monk who compiled the Calendar of the Benedictine
hagiology,* Dom ^Egidius Ranbeck. In this interesting work,
which was published in Augsburg in 1677, we find some excel-
lent specimens of nutshell biographies — graphic, pungent, and
suggestive of character by their quaint touches. The facts that
each saint's nook was embellished by a plate, and that all these
plates were the work of members of the order, lent the work
an exceptional value. An English edition is now appearing. It
is from the translation of J. P. Molahan, M.A., and has been
edited by a Benedictine father, the Very Rev. J. Alphonsus
Monall. Volume I. embraces the calendar for the first quarter of
the year. The plates reproduced are full of curious detail, sym-
bolical of the career of each of the saints described. The por-
traits will attract attention as being the work presumably of
contemporary Benedictines, or faithful copies of such pictures.
It is to be remarked that the original biographies were never
intended to be more than explanations of these engravings ;

* Saints of the Order of St. Benedict. From the Latin of F. .<Egidius Ranbeck, O.S.B.
London : John Hodges, Bedford Street, Strand.

550 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July*

hence their brevity, and sometimes unsatisfactory character. To
some of the saints a wrong nativity is ascribed — St. Fintan, for
instance, who is spoken of as a native of Britain.

In this instalment of the Calendar the print is very large and
clear, being of the quasi-antique pattern ; and the reproduction
of the old engravings admirable.

Another edition, making the fourth, of the Rev. H. F. Fair-
banks's pleasant book, A Visit to Europe and the Holy Land* is
now put forth by the publishers. In this fact we find substan-
tial evidence of a desire for literature of a solid but unpreten-
tious kind, such as may be serviceable to people in a position
to make " the grand tour " at some period of their lives. Father
Fairbanks's book is eminently suitable for all on such practical
purpose bent. There is a fund of valuable information, con-
veyed in a pleasant, easy way, in his book, which to Catholics
especially makes it an excellent and agreeable itinerary. Many
handsome plates embellish this edition.

The third quarterly report of the St. Vincent de Paul So-
ciety is a valuable addition to the literature of Christian sociol-
ogy in the domain of fact. The Quarterly, as the report is
formally intituled, has assumed quite a literary air, from the
many flowers of poesy which blossom out amongst its drier
records of relief work done, and administrative arrangements
for the working of the charity. It opens with a paper on " In-
temperance and Poverty," by the Rev. A. P. Doyle, concern-
ing the merits of which, for obvious reasons, we shall preserve
a discreet silence. There is, amongst other interesting articles,
an excellent one upon the " New York Foundling Hospital," by
Mrs. J. V. Bouvier ; also one of a suggestive and useful char-
acter on " Parochial Libraries," by Lucien J. Doize. The Quar-
terly bears a strong recommendation from Archbishop Corrigan
as eminently helpful towards the attainment of the beneficent-
ends of the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

The triumph of mind over matter is fitly symbolized in the
wonderful renaissance in Celtic literature which our days are
witnessing. Such an uplifting as this could never have been
dreamed of twenty years ago, when sciolists were loudly de-
claring about the forgotten Gaelic literary heritage that there
was " nothing in it." Never has there been so signal an over-
throw of arrogant impertinence as in this case. A wave of Cel-

* A Visit to Europe and the Holy Land. By Rev. H. F.Fairbanks. New York, Cincin-
nati, and Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 551

ticism is now dancing in upon us with a vim and volume that
suggest a world-wide impulse behind it. When the tide is at
its flood, the manes of the long-forgotten great may well feel
appeased, for it will be found that they have sped the spirit
of their song not only adown the centuries, but over the seas
and the continents wherever ship has sailed or foot has trod.
Thus the dispersion of the Celt, mournful world-drama though
it has been, has proved to be his moral triumph. Wherever he
went he has left the impress of his genius and the touch of
his adorning finger.

The latest addition to our Celtic library comes from bonnie
Edinboro' toune. It bears the title Lyra Celtica* and its spon-
sors are Elizabeth A. Sharp and William Sharp. It does not
pretend to be anything more than a precursor volume, yet we
cannot grumble at it on the score of niggardliness in range.
Celtic poetry of many periods and countries is to be found in it —
Ancient Irish Celtic, going as far back as the mythical Amer-
gin and the demigod heroes of the Oisin legend ; Celtic poetry
of Albany, Bretagne, Wales; modern Irish and Scottish poetry ;
early Cornish, early Armorican, early and mediaeval Cymric, and
'Canadian and American Celtic. The poets of the latter classi-
fication are dubbed " The Celtic Fringe," and a very curious
mistake has been made, it appears to us, in placing Thomas
Darcy McGee in that category. There was nothing fringy in
poor McG^e's Celticism ; it was purely Irish of the Irish. How-
ever, for Celts of the Scottish rite a slip of this kind cannot
be regarded too seriously. The collation has otherwise been
done judiciously and apparently without favor or affection.

In the foreword (as it is the fashion nowadays to style
what has been known as the preface) to this work Mr.
Sharp makes a shrewd observation touching the speech of the
Celts of to-day. While it is unquestionable (that the literature
of Wales, where Cymric is the spoken as well as the written
tongue, is limited to the principality, and very sparse in quan-
tity, the Irish have infected the whole Anglo-Saxon world with
the passion of their song. The language has almost perished,
but the spirit is alive and glowing all over the world. And in
a million ways the language has penetrated into other tongues,
and lent them their richest and most serviceable verbal
materials.

The term Celtic is a wide one, and under it are embraced

* Lyra Celtica : An Anthology of Representative Celtic Poetry. Edited by Elizabeth
A. Sharp ; with Introduction and Notes by William Sharp. Patrick Geddes and Colleagues,
the Lawn Market, Edinburgh (imported by Charles Scribner's Sons).

552 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. '[July,

many races of people of diverse habits and speech. But those
who study the mental bent of this widely-scattered human
family, as revealed in the poetry and literature of the respec-
tive members of it, will find a striking similarity in the key-
notes of all. Sublimity of thought, lavish wealth of imagery
and epithet, fine judgment in the adaptation of metaphor, are
the common property of all. The older poetry was especially
rich in passionate power of expression. Take, for instance, the
song of Columkille (as translated by Dr. Douglas Hyde, under
the title " Columcille Cecenit ") :

" O son of my God, what a pride, what a pleasure

To plough the blue sea !
The waves of the fountain of deluge to measure,

Dear Eire, to thee.

We are rounding Moy-n-Olurg, we sweep by its head and

We plunge through Loch Foyle,
Whose swans could enchant with their music the dead, and

Make pleasure of toil.

The host of the gulls come with joyous commotion

And screaming and sport,
I welcome my own " Dewy-Red " from the ocean

Arriving in port.*

O Eire, were wealth my desire, what a wealth were

To gain far from thee,
In the land of the stranger, but there even health were

A sickness to me !

Alas ! for the voyage, O high King of Heaven,

Enjoined upon me,
For that I on the red plain of bloody Cooldrevin

Was present to see.

How happy the son is of Dima ; no sorrow

For him is designed,
He is having, this hour, round his own hill in Durrowv

The wish of his mind.

The sounds of the winds in the elms, like the strings of

A harp being played,
The note of the blackbird that claps with the wings of

Delight in the glade.

* Dearg-tfruchtach— i.e., " Dewy-Red "—was the name of St. Columba's boat.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 553

With him in Ros-Grencha the cattle are lowing

At earliest dawn,
On the brink of the summer the pigeons are cooing

And doves in the lawn.

Three things am I leaving behind me, the very

Most dear that I know,
Tir-Leedach I'm leaving, and Durrow and Derry ;

Alas, I must go !

Yet my visit and feasting with Comgall have eased me

At Cainneach's right hand,
And all but thy government, Eir£, has pleased me,

Thou waterfall land."

We congratulate the editors and publishers of this volume
on the work they have done. The scholarship of the one and
the taste of the other have combined to give us an admirable
quiver of Celtic song.

Zola's Rome* brings to our mind good old /Esop and his
witty zoological parables. There is an unmistakable echo of the
fox and the grapes which he found to be sour, when they lay be-
yond his reach, ringing through the chapters of this stale bit
of scissors-work. Whatever force there is in the original parts
of it is derived from spleen. Furious at being forbidden to
approach the sacred threshold of the Vatican, the dealer in smut
pours out the copious vials of his vituperation on the venerable
head of the great Pontiff upon whom the rapt reverence of
all Europe is fixed. He raises him up to a lofty pinnacle with
the one hand, in order that he may dash him down into the
gutter of his description with the other. Wretched fool not
to see that such unbridled scurrility defames only the be-
sotted reviler who wreaks his passion in this wise ! Carlyle was
right in some of his sayings. When he laid down the dictum
that " the style is the man," he implied that no author is
superior to himself. Zola's style is Zola's very self, and we
know how capable such a mind as conceived the abominations
of Nana and La Terre is of gauging that of Leo XIII.

We deeply regret the time we have wasted upon this latest
literary nuisance. We would waste no more in writing about it
were it not for the same stern compulsion that dictates an ap-
peal to the Board of Health when sewer-gas menaces public
safety. But, in the utmost sincerity and candor, we say that

* Rome. By £mile Zola. Translated by Ernst Alfred Vizetelly. 2 vols. New York and
London : Macmillan & Co.

554 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

the task of carefully perusing this book as a matter of duty
on a dismal, wet day, with no possibility of out-door exercise
to offset the penalty, was a sore trial. The ills of life in the
world of reality are numerous enough ; it is frightful to have
superadded the weary, dreary tissue of blasphemy and obscen-
ity of this degraded penman thrust under our eyes and
dinned into our ears, simply because he is compelled to get a
living.

It is not necessary to put any sensible reader on his guard
against the second book of this remarkable trilogy. Lourdes,
the first one, tired out the patience of the most persevering
and strong-stomached. Rome is more than nine hundred pages
of vileness of a different brand — old Italian stories vamped up,
and the usual fee-faw-fum about the Jesuits and the Pope.
Gentlemen of the A. P. A. school may be interested in the re-
cital of how the various popes are poisoned by the successive
aspirants to the same equivocal honor. They will find it all
there by the fathom — pulled out as long as the ribbon which
the other kind of charlatan pulls out of his mouth at the fair.
Yet when even A. P. A. gentlemen — -who, some of them at
least, are men with manly respect for mothers and sisters and
sweethearts — find this stuff so mixed up with outrage to woman-
hood that to get at the one they must swallow the other — even
they would take Zola's book, as they would take a ruffian who
dared insult them in their most cherished feelings, and fling it
out the window. But not alone the verdict of this class of
people must be against him. The sated sensualists for whom
he has catered so long will find that he has played himself
out. In the effort to produce something extraordinary he has
mixed spices and condiments that are no more assimilable than
vinegar and milk. He has sought to utilize religion in the ser-
vice of filth, and the failure is as complete as that of Satan in
the temptation. He has sought to out-Shelley Shelley in The
Cenci, and the result is that he has out-Zola'd Zola.

The next book of the trilogy will be Paris. It will be
curious to see how the author will deal with this. If it be
Paris of to-day he essays to handle, he must needs be circum-
spect. In Rome he has been dealing with ecclesiastics, who
would not touch him with a pair of tongs. Laymen in Paris
are of a different mind, and if he hold any prominent men up
to obloquy under aliases, as he tries to do in Rome with
certain Roman ecclesiastics, he runs some risk of bodily hurt.

Rome has been translated by Mr. Ernest Alfred Vizetelly.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 555

We gather from his preface that he has curtailed the original
at times, as he says the author himself admitted that he " now
and again allowed his pen to run away with him." This
explanation reads somewhat curiously, side by side with the
charge of a French writer, M. Deschamps, that much of Rome
is made up from works now out of print. Some light is
thrown on this contradiction by a note of the translator, in which
he tells us that M. Zola was unable in his early days to obtain
a pass for the elementary degree of bachelor at law, on the
ground of " insufficiency in literature." He has since made
amends, if M. Deschamps be correct, by his diligence in ran-
sacking the shelves whose contents are little sought for by the
newer school of students. To give such borrowing a new look
something daring was necessary, and to surpass himself was no
easy task even for M. Zola. He has failed, because the jump
was too high. His " shocker " outrages not only modesty, but
what is of more importance to him, common sense. Having
begun, like his own name, with the last letter in the alphabet
of decency, he is unable either to get back to the first or to
plunge any deeper. His scornful rejection at Rome has left
him much in the position of a cuttle-fish, stranded and spewing
out filth, which happily touches no one but himself.

Going over a road with which we are familiar, it is pleasant
to have an intelligent companion to share our feelings and
give us his commentaries ; doubly enjoyable is it to have one
when our path lies where we are not altogether at home with
the surroundings. Such a "guide, philosopher, and friend" is
Mr. Percy Fitzgerald. In his Jewels of the Mass he helps
us to realize more clearly, perhaps, than our own conceptions
might the wondrous beauty and sublimity of that great central
act of Catholicism. Now he comes to our aid with suggestions
on the reading of the immortal work of Thomas a Kempis.*
Here he is more needed as a help than in the other work,
because " The Imitation," admirable though it be, requires
steady perseverance in reading before one can really master
the grand design which the writer had in view. The beauties
of the " Imitation " are not by any means visible on the sur-
face. They must be mined for and dug out, and Mr. Fitzger-
ald shows us how we can best succeed in that salutary toil.
The philosophy of k Kempis will, under his acute reasoning,
soon make itself apparent to the ordinarily diligent reader.

* Jewels of the Imitation. By Percy Fitzgerald, M.A., F.S.A. New York : Benziger
Brothers ; London : Burns & Gates.

556 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July*

His little book, which bears the title Jewels of tJic Imitation,
is put forward in a very attractive binding of white and gold.

Catholic Truth is the name of a new quarterly started last
April in Worcester, Mass. Its object is the laudable one indi-
cated in its title — the diffusion of accurate knowledge upon
Catholic subjects of every kind, by means of the printing-press.
In England a vast amount of good has been effected by the
publications of the Catholic Truth Society. Here there is no
less a field for the enlightenment of the ignorant and misin-
formed. The first issue of the new publication contains articles
relevant to its mission by Archbishop Ireland, Archbishop
Kain, Bishop O'Gorman, the late Sir John Thompson, Rev. T.
F. Butler Elsworth, Rev. James C. Byrne, and George Parsons
Lathrop, as well as a poem by Francis P. McKeon. The
Catholic Truth Society is intended to develop the strength of
the lay help which the church can command, and there are
some rousing words on the reason for this help in the article
contributed by Archbishop Ireland.

ORIGIN OF THE MONASTIC LIFE.*

In the construction of his great and valuable work on the
Formation of Christendom Mr. Allies has now reached as far
as the eighth volume. This volume bears the distinctive title
of The Monastic Life. Though marking no break in the con-
tinuity and order of the general series, it is hardly necessary to
say that it is distinguished in its arrangement and array of au-
thorities by the same profound scholarship and fine literary man-
ner which have rendered his previous work a great English classic.

The monastic life was the direct outcome of the cenobite or
anchoret idea, in the early ages of the church. This was the re-
volt of the spiritual life against the life of the sensual world,
and when men and women abandoned its luxury and fled into
the desert that they might commune with God in spirit they
found that even the spiritual life in solitude demanded for its
practical realization the establishment of a rule. The tradition
of Pachomius and Palemon, the founders of the Thebaid, affirms
that the first rules were inscribed on a tablet which an angel
revealed, and which the two hermits forthwith erected in their
cell. It is as.tonishing, when we consider the difficulty of com-
munication in those early days, how quickly and generally the

* The Monastic Life, from the Fathers of the Desert to Charlemagne. By Thomas W.
Allies, K.C.S.G. London : Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 557

idea spread over the East and over southern and western Eu-
rope. In it the church found its earliest theological seminaries.

Women, it should be noted, were almost as early workers
in this field, and quite as zealous, as men. The sister of Pacho-
mius imitated his example, and set up a house for women where
they might devote their lives to God away from the tempta-
tions of the sinful world. The islands of the Mediterranean
and the Adriatic were soon filled with retreats founded by no-
ble Roman ladies like Fabiola. St. Ambrose, writing of this
singular phenomenon, says : " Why should I enumerate the
islands which the sea wears as a necklace? Here they who fly
from the snares of secular indulgence make their choice by a
faithful purpose of continence to lie hidden from the world.
Thus the sea becomes a harbor of security, an incentive of de-
votion ; chanted psalms blend with the gentle miirmur of waves,
and the islands utter their voice of joy like a tranquil chorus
to the hymns of saints."

The monk has now been acknowledged, even by those most
hostile to all he represents, to have been the light-bearer of
civilization. We are too apt to overlook the fact, too, that he
was no less the chief agent in the rescue of the soil from the
forest, under which the savage foes of civilization found shel-
ter, and from the wilderness. When St. Benedict arose the
Black Forest enshrouded a great part of Europe, and owing
to the repeated inroads of successive hordes of barbarians vast
tracts in the heart of Europe had gone out of cultivation and
had actually become deserts like those of Africa. Monasteries
of men and women arose, under the magic influence of Bene-
dict, in the heart of the forests, and the labor of hundreds of
pious hands soon restored to the service of man those wild
tracts which had been abandoned by the husbandmen at the
approach of the general foe. In building stately and solid
structures for their communities, and in the reclamation and
cultivation of the land, the early religious passed the whole
time not given up to prayer and the instruction of neophytes.
All over Europe this work went on in hundreds of places for
several centuries ; so that the part of these children of God in
European development was a twofold one — an advance along
material lines as well as along the spiritual one. What a won-
derful record, truly ! Is there any institution over the whole
earth, at any epoch, that can even remotely approach the
church in this regard? If there be not the sign and seal of a
divine motive power in all this, then there is nothing in the
VOL. LXIII. — 36

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July-

whole universe that can afford secondary evidence of the hand
of God in its function or existence.

A portion of Mr. Allies' book which must command an
unusual degree of attention is that which he has devoted to
the work of St. Columban and his companions. The light
which his labor throws upon the chaotic social condition of
France under the Merovingian kings and queens, at the time
when Columban took up his station there, is valuable indeed.
Out of the disordered and ever-loosening framework of society
arose the very condition of things which made the ground
friable for the seed which was destined to bring forth such
fruit in time as gained for France her proud title of " eldest
daughter of the church." Confined, as he necessarily is, by
the multiplicity of personages and events embraced in his
panoramic work, the author nevertheless utilizes his splendid
gift of description to give us such a picture of the great Irish
evangelist, and the memorable scenes in which he was an
actor, when confronted with the brutish lords and queens of
the Franks, as one cannot readily forget. The work of Bene-
dict, Patrick, and Augustine demands ample treatment like-
wise, at the commentator's hands, and the fulness with which
the peculiar conditions of each period is treated, and the philo-
sophic breadth of his survey of results in the spiritual and
material order, impress the student with the force of a new
revelation.

A work such as Mr. Allies' enables us to see clearly the
difference between history, in the former sense of the term, and
the record of mundane events as presented by a writer con-
scious of the dual life of man. In the one case the range of
events surveyed is treated as connected only by the tie of
visible cause and visible effect ; in the other, we find the recog-
nition of God's providence, working through spiritual forces,
and often operating on the most unpromising social agencies,
to the formation of a higher society and the establishment of
his kingdom amongst men.

To three authors chiefly the writer expresses his gratitude
for the light which guided him on his laborious way through
this volume. They are Montalembert, Bede, and Aubrey de
Vere. Besides these he has relied on Gregory of Tours, Mabil-
lon, Hergenrother, Hefele, Ozanam, Kurth, 'Mohler, and Belle-
shein. To Aubrey de Vere, as the first who welcomed his
earliest work, and gave him words of cheer, Mr. Allies dedi-
cates the present volume.

MR. GLADSTONE has written a letter to Cardi-
nal Rampolla on the subject of reunion of the
churches and the validity of Anglican orders. It
is well that it is in his period of retirement the distinguished
correspondent has so acted, else we must have heard the roll
of the Orange drum beating the reveille all along the line.
But the times are changed, even though we change not with
them. Mr. Gladstone has always taken a deep interest in canoni-
cal as well as doctrinal questions ; in his character his more
serious and thoughtful side has for many years exhibited a
profoundly religious and ecclesiastical tendency. When one
considers, furthermore, the peculiarity of his mind, as revealed
in his methods of argument and nuances of speech, it must be
owned that scholastic theology has either lost or gained very
considerably by the deflection of his subtle talents into other
channels.

Mr. Gladstone is deeply anxious to prevent either a denial
of the validity of Anglican orders or a formal condemnation of
them by the church ; this is why he has taken the strong step
of writing, as he does practically, to the Holy Father on the
subject. His anxiety reveals his knowledge of the weakness of
the case he pleads, as his object manifestly is to prevent that
word being spoken which, though true, means in his view disas-
ter. It is beyond the power of any one to effect what he de-
sires. A commission of the ablest ecclesiastics in the church
has sifted the whole question, and their report on the subject
may by this time be in the hands of the Sovereign Pontiff.
What they have been examining is a question not merely of
dogma ; it is, to a great extent, a question of fact. Everything
which has been heard of late from the Sovereign Pontiff em-
phasizes the overpowering anxiety which fills his own mind
over the same subject. The responsibility of his position lies
deeply on him, and whatever decision he makes we may rest
assured that he will act for the best interests of the universal
Church, because his decision will be true and just.

560 EDITORIAL NOTES, [July,

Whatever be the decision taken, who can fail to be moved
by the fact that it is "to the Pope, as the first bishop of
Christendom," that the greatest Protestant Englishman of his
age addresses this history-making letter?

His letter has acted as a chemical precipitate upon the
English Nonconformists. They are effervescing with fury at
what they call his betrayal of the English Church into the hands
of Rome. Mr. Gladstone's action has been fiercely denounced
by some leading lights of Dissent, such as the Rev. Hugh
Price Hughes, the Rev. Guinness Rogers, and the Rev. Dr. Ber-
ry. Bishops and the apostolic succession, and the consequent
validity or non-validity of orders, are with these gentlemen a
secondary consideration altogether. As long as Rome is kept
out, religion is able to take care of itself, is their doctrine put
into a nut-shell. They are, however, a daily diminishing power.
Since the day when Lord Brougham was able to declare that
" the school-master was abroad," the power for mischief of the
sects in England has been surely if slowly declining. The
school-master is very much abroad just now, and every day adds
to the people's stock of enlightenment on the true facts of the
English schism. All honor to the Catholic Truth Society of
England ! It is doing splendid work for the recovery of the
old faith, and we hope its efforts may now be redoubled.

THE MISSIONARY. — The success met with in issuing our
new publication, The Missionary : a Record of the Progress of
Christian Unity, is so very remarkable that it deserves a pro-
minent notice here. Few publications seem to have struck so
responsive a chord in the hearts of the more intelligent and
more thoughtful people as this. The general testimony is that
this quarterly publication has preempted an entirely new and
at the same time unique field. The spirit that pervades it is
so novel for a paper, while at the same time it echoes a senti-
ment so much in accord with the way the best people feel and
think, that it has found no difficulty in making its way among
the host of publications that endeavor to secure public attention
these days. A publication must be remarkable in what it says,
or how it says it, to draw out the bundle of commendatory
letters we have received in reference to The Missionary.

1896.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 561

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

CARDINAL MANNING AND MR. GLADSTONE.

(From the London Tablet^

MR. BERNARD HOLLAND, writing in the March number of the National Re-
view of Cardinal Manning's conversion, says : " Many roads, it would seem, lead
to the spiritual city of Rome. Some men have taken the road of historic learning,
others that of a deep and mystic philosophy. Some have been led, apparently, by
love of the beautiful ; others by the desire to belong to the widest fraternal asso-
ciation on earth, extending to people of all classes and all countries. Others
again have followed the road of human affections and the lead of those whom
they love or admire. Others, like Alexandrine de la F'erronays, in the touching
Recit d'une Sceur, in terrible suffering or affliction have sought divine consolation
in a form of religion which, more than others, recognizes the power of interces-
sion, and spiritual communion between the living and the departed. The road
taken by Manning was that of high policy, the theocratic route. He was attracted
by the greatness and system, the antiquity and continuity of the Imperial Church
of Rome. The nature of this attracting force, taking so many various forms, this
kind of home-sickness which outsiders of very differing kinds have so often felt,
is, at least, a fact which deserves careful study. Does the Anglican Church exer-
cise this indrawing power, or does the Russian ? "

Touching the absurd charges of insincerity brought against Manning in con-
nection with his conversion, because he did not " wear his heart upon his sleeve
for every daw to peck at," Mr. Holland says: "When in January, 1895, Mr.
Gladstone saw Manning's letters to Robert Wilberforce, and for the first time
learned that from the year 1846, at least, onwards, the faith of Manning in the
Church of England had been breaking down, he was pained and surprised, and
said to Mr. Purcell, ' In all our correspondence and conversations, during an inti-
macy which extended over many years, Manning never once led me to believe that
he had doubts as to the position or divine authority of the English Church, far
less that he had lost faith altogether in Anglicanism. That is to say, up to the
Gorham Judgment.' After a few minutes' reflection Mr. Gladstone added, ' I
won't say Manning was insincere; God forbid! But he was not simple and
straightforward." The story only seems to show that Manning did not, naturally
enough, feel that he could confide personal secrets to a public man like Mr. Glad-
stone as he could to Robert Wilberforce or to Mr. Laprimaudaye. When Mr.
Gladstone himself, in 1886, suddenly announced his own conversion to Home
Rule, he was accused of having been converted to it upon a single ground, that
of the existing balance of parties. He has, I believe, given it to be understood
that his change of opinion had secretly been taking place during many years, and
that the difficulty of carrying on government as parties stood in 1886 was merely
the immediate cause." Apropos " the amazing biography," we may note that Mr.
Stead in the Review of Reviews wittily describes it as " Mr. Purcell's attempt
upon the life of Cardinal Manning."

562 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [July.

ROMANES'S RETURN TO FAITH.

(from the Literary Digest.)

A TRUE man of science was George John Romanes, whose wife has now
written and edited his " Life and Letters." He had the true scientific temper,
insatiable in the appetite for facts, eager to put all statements to proof. A con-
tributor to the Quarterly Review, under the title of " Through Scientific Doubt to
Faith," says :

" Those who regard his history only from the outside might be tempted to
explain his final return to faith by the overpowering force, acting upon a sinking
life, of the desire to find happiness in religion. Such an explanation is erroneous
and inadequate. If the wish to believe must be credited with his later move-
ments, it must be credited also with his earlier. The desire remained when
Romanes was in the full vigor of strength and happiness ; it belonged no more
to the physical weakness of the close of life than to the exuberant power of suc-
cessful manhood ; though working in a different manner, it characterized equally
the beginning and the end of the long struggle between rationalism and assent."

The writer goes deep into the life and motives of his subject, tracing him closely
through a labyrinth of scientific speculation, and finally comes to say of him :

" Under suffering he began to seek more eagerly the outlet of love. When
pain came most heavily on himself, he ceased to judge God for pain in nature.
For him, as apparently for St. Paul, his own pain interpreted that of the world
and gave the clue to hope. The pressure of his calamity was felt as a most
bitter trial; yet it led to a daily growth of inward strength. There were moments
of passionate regret for work undone, and, in the early stages of his illness, a
fervent desire to recover in order that he might prove his resolution by action.
But he never faltered in his manly resignation. He often reverted to the feeling
that he had been distracted from the life of Christian thought and work which he
had promised himself in early youth, and now regarded as his proper line of
development. He would willingly have recovered the track and completed his
task, not, as he often said, with any thought of the ulterior advantages of faith,
but to have the happiness of knowing God and seeing him as he is. Yet the
track had been recovered and the task was truly accomplished. His friends heard
from him many new and penetrating expressions of belief while he was still, at
times, discussing its merits. For those who warm themselves at the fireside of
faith, he had worked as miners work, who labor in darkness throughout the day.
Yet, assuredly, he will not be the poorer by one hour of the light.

" Romanes felt an admiration for Christianity which a severe criticism might,
at one time, have treated as artistic only. The feeling was always more than that,
and not it gave its special help. That beauty of the faith must mean something ;
why was its influence to be disregarded ? Did it not rest on something deep and
real in man and nature ? Why was the Gospel story so natural to the human
heart ? Why could we find no flaw in the Person there presented ? Were his
words, after all, the words of truth, telling the mind of God more surely than any
reading of nature ? And the final Tragedy — would it not, if once believed, solve
that obstinate mystery of pain and failure, and show finally how God can love
and let us suffer ? To have faith in this would be to solve the great contradiction
of speculative theism. Still what a tremendous thing it is to believe ! Day after
day he concluded that it was reasonable and coherent, and yet each day recoiled
from the thought of it as a fact, only to be pressed up to it again by the continued
effort toward theism."

i896.]

WHA T THE THINKERS SA v.

563

THE ST. LOUIS DISASTER.

(from the Press, Philadelphia?)

" IT is a human weakness to exaggerate the present. The impression made
by a reality is always stronger than the one memory brings up. It is not strange,
then, that the remark is now being frequently made that the year 1896 will show
a larger list of fatalities from tornadoes and cyclones than any twelve months on
record. This is possible, for the year has still seven months to run. But the list
of fatalities will have to be very much larger than it is now if it is to equal the
record of some past years. The Chicago Tribune has kept a record of the loss of
life in this country, by wind-storms, for fourteen years past. It is as follows, in-
cluding the first five months of this year :

Year.
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888

Loss.

369

509
578
in
242
188

547
163

Year.
1890

1893
1894

1896

Loss.
922

448
4,462

Si?

410
885

" The known number of wind-storm fatalities for this year previous to the
St. Louis tornado was 485, and the number killed in that city and vicinity is esti-
mated at 400 more. This brings the number of deaths from this cause up to 885
— a large total, it is true, but still below the total of 1890, and not one-fifth the
total of 1893. The appalling list of wind-storm victims in 1893 was due very
largely to the West India and Gulf cyclones, which swept the southern and south-
eastern coasts of the United States with such destructive force. These storms
were probably the most fatal to life and destructive to property of any which ever
visited this country. But their effects were scattered over a wide area and the re-
sults were not so noticeable."

(From the Times-Herald, Chicago?)

"Lieutenant (formerly Sergeant) Finley, probably the greatest living authority
on violent atmospheric disturbances, names the region of St. Louis as particularly
liable to storm ravages. He says :

" ' There is not another section of our vast domain wherein there exist oppor-
tunities so unlimited for the unobstructed mingling and opposition of warm and
cold currents, and currents highly contrasted in humidity. As an area of low baro-
meter (not necessarily a storm area) advances to the lower Mississippi Valley,
warm and cold currents set in toward it from the north and south respectively,
which, if the low pressure continues about stationary for some time, ultimately
emanate from the warm and moist regions of the Gulf and the cold and compara-
tively dry regions of the British possessions. Here lies the key to the marked
contrasts of temperature and moisture, invariably foretelling an atmospheric dis-
turbance of unusual violence, for which this region is particularly suited by nature
and in apparent recognition of which it has received the euphonious title of the
battle-ground of tornadoes.'

" Kansas, Illinois, and Missouri, in the order named, suffer most severely from
tornadoes. The favorite month for these violent storms is June; but April, July,
and May all seem to breed weather suited to the type. The St. Louis storm was
typical in its origin and characteristics, and more fatal than other tornadoes only
because in its path lay a great city, whose people were unprepared for the wrath
stored up for them in the plausible summer weather."

564 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [July,

(From Weather Observer Dunn, in New York Journal^
" There is a very specific difference between a cyclone and a tornado. The
cyclone covers from 500 to 1,500 miles, and owing to its diameter the territory at
its exact centre is comparatively calm. The currents of the cyclone are compara-
tively uniform. They blow at the rate of from forty to ninety miles an hour, but
there is a steady, rotary motion around the storm-centre, while the progressive
motion of the wind is from twenty-five to thirty-five miles an hour. And here arises
the distinction between the cyclone and tornado. The tornado covers a relatively
small territory, but it is the most terrible of all storms. It may be from 20 to 200
yards in width, and travel a distance of from 50 feet to 200 miles. Its great pow-
er is in its centre. . . . There may exist at the same time and place a number
of local tornadoes. Tornadoes form and disappear rapidly. Eight or ten of them
may appear in a bunch, and you might pass between two of them and not be affect-
ed by either. Of course the tremendous force of the tornado can only be estimated
from inference. We know what it can accomplish, but we cannot measure its
power. No instrument has yet been devised which is strong enough to do that.
. . . Tornadoes are invariably attended by lightning, hail, and rainfall. Tor-
nadoes are most frequent during April, May, June, and July, but one is occasion-
ally noted during the other months of the year. After the storm clears away the
atmosphere seems strangely light and exhilarating, probably due to an excessive
amount of ozone. The St. Louis disaster was, of course, the work of a torna-
do, not a cyclone."

MORE CATHOLIC EVIDENCE ABOUT ARMENIA.

(from the London Tablet?)

PATRIARCH AZARIAN continues to receive from his various suffragan
dioceses detailed reports of the losses of the late atrocities. He is now able to
sum up the losses of the Catholic Armenians, exclusive of the Gregorians and
Protestants, as follows: Massacred, 304; houses and shops burnt down, 754;
churches and presbyteries burnt down, 25 ; total monetary loss of Catholics in
the patriarchate, ^138,320. This, of course, excludes the losses of the villages
about Zeitun and the provinces of Diarbekir and Mardin.

The work of the Red Cross appears to have entirely failed. The Porte has
formally declared that its functions are for times of war only, and that to allow its
action in Asia Minor at present would confer upon the Armenians the position of
belligerents. "And yet," says a Catholic missionary father, writing from
Armenia, " all that was aimed at was to relieve the misery of widows and orphans
of families whose heads had fallen victims of massacre, and whose homes had
been destroyed or pillaged. Is it possible to give the sounding title of ' belliger-
ents ' to these poor creatures in dire consternation, hungry and defenceless not
only against their savage oppressors, but even against the severity of this cold
season ? " After referring to the efforts of the Armenian ladies in favor of the
Red Cross, he continues : " The Porte, influenced by the advice of some great
power, telegraphed to its minister at Washington to urge the United States
government to prevent the realization of this purely philanthropic object. And so
vanish the hopes founded on the inestimable services which the Red Cross might
have brought to suffering humanity in the theatre of the bloody drama of Asia
Minor. The 500,000 wretched Armenians can now count for the relief of their
miseries only upon the help sent by private donors."

The last passage of this letter brings a ray of consolation after so much sad-
ness : " The devotedness displayed by the Catholic Armenians towards their

1896.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 565

Gregorian fellow-countrymen during these disasters has given rise among the
latter to a strong current towards Catholic unity, and this movement would
assume considerable proportions if it could be favored. Now the Catholic
Armenian Patriarchate could do this, but means are necessary, for it is a question
of providing for the wants of these new adherents to the Catholic religion. This
difficulty complicates our present misfortune. Still the Patriarchate is prepared,
if properly seconded, to do anything rather than sacrifice so valuable a field."

LORD HALIFAX AND THE COMMISSION ON
ANGLICAN ORDERS.

(From the Liverpool Catholic Times.)

WE have more than once expressed our hearty approval of the tone of utter-
ances by Lord Halifax on the reunion movement, but his latest speech has greatly
disappointed us. A special Roman correspondent of the Daily Chronicle — under-
stood to be the editor — stated on Saturday in that journal that the question of
Anglican orders has been reopened because " Lord Halifax and a section of the
extreme High-Church party desire the Roman Church to declare that the English
Church possesses a qualified, sacrificing priesthood." The correspondent added :
•" That is a matter which I think should be plainly set out and understood by the
people of England. I must say that at first blush it seems difficult for an out-
sider to understand why the Pope should trouble himself to oblige Lord Halifax.
But troubled he is, and though I am convinced that the majority of the commis-
sion, and certainly the English and Irish members of it, are hostile to the
Anglican claim, the French section, and possibly one or two of the Italian mem-
bers, look upon it with fairly friendly eyes." Lord Halifax disclaimed the rSle
attributed to him in connection with the reopening of this question. That dis-
claimer we accept, though we must say that we were of the same opinion upon
the point as the writer in the Daily Chronicle. What caused our disappointment
was the language with which his lordship followed the disclaimer. It was
practically to this effect : that if the Holy See admitted the validity of Anglican
orders, his lordship and those who believe as he does would greatly rejoice ; but
that if the validity of the orders were denied, it would not make the slightest
difference to them. Now, we cannot help calling this a very disingenuous
attitude. It is certainly very different to that taken up by Catholics in the matter.
They desire that the question should be settled according to the true state of the
facts, and whatever may be the effect of the decision they will accept it with
docility.

THE BOERS AND THE LIQUOR-TRADE.

(From (he Literary Digest.}

WE have pointed out in a former issue that the Transvaal Boers are an emi-
nently sober race. Prohibitionists will be interested to find that they are also op-
posed to the liquor-traffic. A lady correspondent of The New Age accused the
Boers of fostering strife and rebellion in the gold-fields by the liquor-traffic. As
a matter of fact the Boer dislikes nothing so much in his hereditary enemy as the
leaning toward intemperance, although total abstinence is not, on the whole,
viewed favorably by the Afrikanders. The lady correspondent of The New Age
was, therefore, deceived. Her statements are now corrected by a correspondent
from Johannesburg, who expresses himself to the following effect :

" The statement of this lady correspondent contains two ' inaccuracies,' not

566 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [July,

to use a stronger expression, and doubtless with the intention of placing the Boers
in an unfavorable light. For we have here a liquor-law, and it is enforced rigidly.
Fines of ^25 to ^50 are imposed almost daily for contravention of the law,
and licenses are not seldom cancelled.

" As regards the canteens supposed to be erected by the Boers, you will be
astonished to hear that the entire liquor-trade is in the hands of Englishmen and
other foreigners. Not one canteen is owned by a Boer. Further, nearly all the
ground in the vicinity of Johannesburg is in possession of the mining companies,
and no saloon can be opened without their consent. They are, therefore, the re-
sponsible parties. The law also provides that a native shall not be sold liquor
without the consent or order in writing of his employer. The liquor-dealers,
nevertheless, manage to evade this law, especially on Sundays. The law also
prohibits the sale of spirituous liquors after 9 P. M. or on Sundays, but it is broken
continually; not, however, by the Boers, not one of whom makes the sale of drink
his business."

EDUCATION USEFUL, BUT NOT NECESSARY FOR

SUCCESS.

{From the Republic, St. Louis.)

CAN the United States afford to exclude from its dominions a man who may
possess all the qualities which go tc make worthy citizenship except education ?
There are men in this country to-day who have barely succeeded in learning to
write their names, and who are nevertheless among the most enterprising citizens
in the communities in which they live. Education, exceedingly useful, exceeding-
ly desirable, one of the greatest advantages of civilization, is not necessarily an
element of success in life, and its absence is not necessarily an element of want
of success.

" If a young man has reached in his own country that stage which enables
him to meet the requirements of the old immigration laws, thereby giving a guar-
anty that he is neither a felon nor a pauper, and that he is not likely to become a
burden on the country of his adoption, why should he be prevented from landing
on our shores and deprived of the opportunity of bettering his condition ?

" The immigrants to this country have always belonged, and will continue to
belong, to the distinctly industrial class. And that is the class, after all, which is
the bone and sinew of every land. They have been literally the hewers of wood
and the drawers of water. They have built the railroads, they have delved in the
mines, they have added in every way to the riches of the nation. They have
enabled those born here and the prior immigrants to advance to higher and
pleasanter forms of work."

THE NONCONFORMIST CONSCIENCE AND THE
IRISH VOTE.

(From the Liverpool'Catholic Times.)

THE Rev. Mr. Price Hughes's manifesto has brought him much more trouble
than he probably anticipated. All the influential organs of the Liberal party and
many of its leaders have strongly repudiated the attempt to renounce a cardinal
principle in its programme because, forsooth, the Irish members have not been
guided on the education question by the Nonconformist conscience rather than
their own. But sufficient stress has scarcely been laid on the humorous side of
Mr. Price Hughes's letter. With burning indignation he declared that, judging by

1896.] NEW BOOKS. 567

their vote on the Education Bill, it was vain to expect the Irish members would
do justice to their countrymen in the North under Home Rule. When we bear
in mind that the Ulster members voted precisely as the Nationalists, it becomes
perfectly clear that Mr. Price Hughes's bigotry had for the moment obscured his
reason. But stupid as he appears, the Duke of Devonshire has surpassed him in
obtuseness. In a public speech his grace took up the Price Hughes parable and
informed his hearers that he would remember the incident of the Irish vote
" when the time came, as come again it might, when he would be compelled to
defend his fellow-Protestants in Ireland." In other words, he is prepared to
arraign the Irish Nationalist members because they did not vote in the interests
of the Irish Protestants against the representatives of those same Protestants and
against his own bill. Could there possibly be more downright self-stultification ?

NEW BOOKS.

OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY, Chicago :

Primer of Philosophy. By Dr. Paul Carus. (Revised edition.)
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, and Chicago :

Father Furniss and His Work for Children. By the Rev. T. Livius,
C.SS.R. The Banquet of the Angels. Edited and translated by the
Most Rev. George Porter, S.J., Archbishop of Bombay. The Boys and
Girls' Mission Book. Little Manual of St. Anthony.
FR. PUSTET & Co., New York and Cincinnati :

St. Francis' Manual: A Prayer-book for Members of the Third Order.

Arranged by Clementinus Denmann, O.S.F.
DESPATCH JOB PRINTING COMPANY, St. Paul:

IngersolFs Mistakes of Moses Exposed and Refuted. By J. T. Harrison.
JOHN HODGES, London:

The Great Commentary of Cornelius a Lapide. I. Corinthians. Trans-
lated and edited by W. F. Cobb, D.D. A Complete Manual of Canon
Law. By Oswald J. Reichel, M.A., B.C.L., F.S.A. Vol. I. The Sacra-
ments.
BURNS & GATES, London :

Many Incentives to Love Jesus and His Sacred Heart. By the Very Rev.
J. A. Maltus, O.P. Moments with Mary : Selections from St. Francis de
Sales for the Month of May. Translated and arranged by the Rev. John
Fitzpatrick, O.M.I.
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, New York :

Jeanne D'Arc : Her Life and Death. By Mrs. Oliphant.
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York:

Weir of Hermiston : Poems and Ballads. By Robert Louis Stevenson.
AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY, Hartford, Conn. :

Armenia and her People. By Rev. George H. Filian.

NEW PAMPHLETS.

Celtic Influence in English Literature. By Rev. Thomas J. Conaty, D.D.

Catholic Child-Helping Agencies in the United States. By Thomas F.
Ring, President Particular Council, Society of St. Vincent de Paul, Boston,
Mass.

The Sublimity of the Most Blessed Sacrament. A Course of Sermons for the
Forty Hours' Adoration. Translated from the German by a Catholic Priest.
New York and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet & Co.

The Nature of Biblical Inspiration. By Rev. Fr. E. Levesque, S.S. Trans-
lated from the French. New York : The Cathedral Library' Association.

The Religion of a Traveller. By Cardinal Manning. San Francisco : The
Catholic Book Exchange.

568 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Jul7>

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

SIX hundred members of Catholic Reading Circles in Philadelphia attended the
reception at St. Ann's Hall tendered to Archbishop Ryan. Members of the
Catholic Young Men's Societies acted as ushers.

Miss Kate C. McMenamin, president of the Reading Circle Union, made her
annual address, which, after a reference to the occasion being in the nature of a
second anniversary, proceeded to welcome the guests of the union, and in particu-
lar its guest of honor, the archbishop. The address was brief but to the point,
and took occasion to thank Rev. James F. Loughlin, D.D., the director of the
union, for the interest manifested in its success.

Miss Mary C. Clare, secretary of the union, then read her annual report. She
began by drawing a parallel between the first literary club and similar organiza-
tions of the present day, the first being established in Athens 340 B. c. Then,
referring to the first meeting of the union for the present season, which was held
last October, and to the plans then drawn, she sketched graphically their success-
ful accomplishment, reviewing not only the public entertainments, but also the
inner work of the Circles, their courses of study, etc. She closed by tendering the
thanks of the union to His Grace, to Dr. Kieran and Rev. Thomas J.Barry, Rev.
D. A. Morrissey, and others who had lent assistance and encouragement to the
Reading Circles.

Among the clergymen present were Revs. Thomas J. Barry, D. A. Morrissey,
Thomas F. Ryan, Fidelis Speidel, C.SS.R. ; M. C. Donovan, Peter Molloy, C. J.
Vandegrift ; H. F. White, C.M. ; George McKinney, C.M.; Andrew Leyden,
C.M. ; Thomas F. Shannon, F.J. Quinn, P. R. McDevitt, James P. Sinnott, Joseph
F. Nagle, James T. Higgins, Joseph F. O'Keefe,.Nevin F. Fisher, Joseph H. O'Neill,
B. J. McGinniss, M. M. Doyle, John F. Crowley, James M. Flanigan, Richard A.
Gleeson, O.S.A. ; John F. Medina, O.S.A. ; Joseph C. Kelly, B. F. Gallagher, A.
A. Gallagher, John J. Walsh, Charles P. Riegel, James Timmins, John J.
McAnany, James V. Kelly, S.J. ; H. J. McKeefrey, Martinsburg, W. Va. The
Brothers of St. Ann's school were also present.

The Rev. James F. Loughlin, D.D., despite the numerous duties imposed
upon him by the office of chancellor of a large diocese, has given a large share of
his time to the Reading Circles because he has " the greatest faith in their
usefulness." In his address as chairman of the meeting, speaking of the Reading
Circle movement, he said :

" We are in it, and we are in it to stay. How much benefit it has been each
individual alone can tell. That it has been a benefit is visible to the whole city.
It got you acquainted with yourselves, and I am going to claim the credit of that
until my dying day and long afterward. You did not know there were so many
nice young ladies in the city, and you first got acquainted with those in your
parish circles and then with those in the union.

" Another result is that it has brought you into closer relations with your
pastors. That is proper. They should be the leaders in every Catholic move-
ment. I have heard it said, ' Let the laity take hold of this movement,' but I have
never known it to amount to much. Let the clergy lead ; that is a guarantee of
duration year after year, each parish falling into line and its clergy taking a hand.
We cannot blame them for holding off at first ; they did not understand it, but
they are beginning to see it and are taking an interest. We want more of them

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, 569

in it. It is better; it lets the rest out a little easier. It will not do for one or two
to take an interest ; the Circles take the impress of their tastes, and we want
variety. I like to see the Circles brought into close relations with the arch-
bishop. It is a pleasure for him and an honor for you. Every Catholic move-
ment should have him at its head."

Referring to the elaborate list of studies reported by the secretary, Dr. Lough-
lin compared it to a menu, and then said that each of the members had not pursued
the full course ; they were not expected to eat everything on the bill of fare. He
assured his grace that this had been a very successful year. The members had
been hard at work, and they need the rest of two months which they are about to
take.

Dr. Loughlin then stated that as the clergy had a habit of objecting to speak
after the archbishop, he would call on any one the Circles desired to hear. There
was a call for Rev. P. J. Dooley, S.J., of the Church of the Gesu, who referred to
a pamphlet he had received in the morning mail, which gave a pang to his heart
as a priest and his dignity as a man when it stated that a certain book, dealing
with the failings of mankind, had reached a circulation of four hundred thousand
volumes ; and he shrank from considering the harm done if only one reader were
to peruse each volume. " The author," continued the speaker, " claims to be a
student of crime and is, I fear, a practiser of crime. He claims that in order to
rescue humanity you must make known the lowest depths to which it fell. If this
pamphlet statement was a shock to me, what a pleasure this is to find that these
young ladies are reading towards their own uplifting — a pleasure I hope the Read-
ing Circles will always afford to the clergy."

The Rev. William Kieran, D.D., made a brief address in which he said
the reference to a menu had suggested to him the old saying that "too
many cooks spoil the broth," and that he would not endeavor to add to what had
been so well said by the worthy leader of the movement. He thanked them for
the entertainments given at his parish hall, and trusted that what they will do in
the future will be even better, if possible. He stood ready to encourage them as
far as possible.

His Grace Archbishop Ryan addressed the Circles, speaking in substance
as follows :

" I say to you members of the Reading Circle Union that I am more than
pleased with the entertainment this evening, and don't know when I have enjoyed
an evening so thoroughly.

" You have had variety of subjects and variety in the method of treating them,
and that variety has, I am pleased to see, included music. I am sure all have
been charmed with the songs rendered so admirably and selected so judiciously —
not out-of-the-way music which we cannot understand. It is an evidence of good
taste in selection and of much study in preparation. May your Reading Circles
extend far and wide. In reading and in union you will do great good, but as
Catholic Reading Circles one great thought should prevail — the good you ought
to do. You need not be mere sodalists, restricted to pious reading ; but you
must see that all that is good in poetry, in the natural order as in the supernatural,
comes from God. So always be not only Reading Circles, but Catholic Reading
Circles, the church's defenders, the defenders of the pure characters of calumni-
ated Catholics of your own sex, such as Joan of Arc and Mary, Queen of Scots.
As time advances and investigation becomes more thorough, the beauty of their
characters comes out before the world. Yours is the task to defend them, to
defend the church.

570 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [July,

" When you hear people talk against the church, you are prepared by your
studies to meet their objections intelligently. Do it patiently. They are not op-
posed to the church so much as to what they deem the church to be. Be charit-
able and patient in defending the church in society, as the priest should in the
pulpit. You have a mission blessed by Almighty God. I see what work your di-
rector is doing. I rejoice at it. He has a natural aptitude for this work. I hope
you will advance in the future as you appear to have done in the past ; that your
union will be a sort of Philadelphia Summer-School itself. Philadelphia leads in
so many things; may she continue to lead in Reading Circles."

After the closing chorus -each Circle in turn advanced to the stage and its
members individually paid their respects to the archbishop. At the conclusion of
the reception refreshments were served on another floor. An orchestra of five
pieces rendered selections at intervals throughout the evening.
* * *

The prospects are very favorable for a large representation from Montreal at
the next session of the Champlain Summer-School, which will'extend from July 12
to August 1 5. With the co-operation of the Rev. J. Quinlivan, S.S., a meeting
was recently held in St. Patrick's Hall, the Honorable Judge J. J. Curran presid-
ing ; and the Rev. Thomas J. Conaty, D.D., was called upon to explain the aims
and objects of the Summer-School, as well as the means for its support. He
showed the intellectual, social, and religious basis upon which the work is con-
ducted, and outlined at length the studies and the social elements that unite in
making the movement a source of great strength to the Catholic Church in its
mission to the people. The fact that Montreal was the nearest of the great cities
to Lake Champlain and that the work appealed to all Catholics, regardless of
nationality, was strongly appealed to and evoked considerable enthusiasm. Ad-
dresses commendatory of the school were made by Honorable Judge Doherty and
Sir William Kingston, Canadian senator, and Charles J. Hart, Esq., and a vote of
thanks was given to Dr. Conaty for his visit and his address.

It was decided to form a committee to have charge of the Summer-School
interests in Montreal, and take measures to have a large delegation attend the
session. The most prominent Montreal English-speaking Catholics were named
as members of the committee, and they met after the meeting and organized.
Rev. Dr. Conaty expresses himself as delighted with his Montreal visit and has
strong hopes of a large attendance from that city. While there he was called up-
on to make addresses at some of the educational institutions upon the Summer-
School idea — notably at the mother-house of the Sisters of the Congregation of
Notre Dame, where two hundred sisters were assembled to hear him.

Visitors to the Summer-School will be pleased to see the cottage life which
will begin this year, and the facilities for having the session by the shores of the
lake. Four cottages have been built, one of twenty rooms by the Philadelphia
Reading Circles, and familiarly called the " Quaker Cottage," and three by the
school corporation, one of which has ten rooms and the other two eight rooms
each. A central dining-hall has been erected near the cottages, and accommo-
dates one hundred and fifty guests. It has a second story with ten rooms for
lodgers. An auditorium, seating seven hundred and fifty, is in process of erection.
One of the farm-houses has been remodelled and will have eight rooms, so that
with the new buildings and the facilities of the Hotel Champlain, together with
the trolley line in direct communication with the hotels and cottages at Platts-
burgh, a large number of people can be accommodated.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 571

The twelfth annual session of the National Summer-School at Glens Falls,
N. Y., will begin July 14, and continue three weeks. On account of the sanction
given by the Honorable Charles R. Skinner, State Superintendent of Public In-
struction, the department for the professional training of teachers will attract con-
siderable attention. The organization of training classes for teachers will be
under the management of Mr. A. S. Downing, Supervisor of Teachers' Institutes
throughout the State of New York. Some of the more notable courses of lectures
are here indicated :

Psychology and Pedagogy, by Dr. Richard G. Boone, of the State Normal
School, Ypsilanti, Mich. — Pedagogics : The Nature of Education — Education as
a Science ; Teaching as a Profession ; The Subject of Education ; The Object of
Education ; Characteristics of Education. The Relation of Education to Ethics
—The Nature of the Ethical Principle ; Social Classes ; Educational Significance
of the Social Classes ; Institutional Life : Educational Significance of the Insti-
tutions ; Moral vs. Intellectual Growth ; Moral vs. Intellectual Training.

Primary Work and Methods, by Anna K. Eggleston, New York State Insti-
tute Instructor. — The Relative Importance of the various Subjects that appear
in the Curriculum for Primary Schools; the basis upon which the decision is made
which determines a course of study. Methods of Teaching these Subjects ; the
knowledge which is essential to a thorough application of the value of a method ;
history of methods and the future outlook. Child-study : History of the child-
study movement ; some of the results of this movement ; the practical bearing of
child-study upon school-work. Literature for Children and Primary Teachers.

School Management, by Supervisor R. C. Metcalf, of Boston, Mass., and
Superintendent Sherman Williams, of Glens Falls, N. Y. — Characteristics of a
Good Teacher and a Good School. Organization of the School, including a Dis-
cussion : Room and furnishings ; classification of pupils ; time-table. Teaching :
Subjects for discussion ; General preparation of teacher ; Preparation of lessons :
by teachers ; by pupils ; Recitations : Object of recitation ; limitations ; Duties of
principals ; duties of assistants. Examinations : The purpose, scope, extent ;
oral or written, which ? Discipline, including a Discussion : Motives ; Rewards
and punishments. Relation that should exist between Teacher, Pupil, and Parent.

Kindergarten Methods, by Miss Caroline T. Haven, of the Ethical Culture
School, New York City. The regular exercises of the Kindergarten will be car-
ried on with a class of children for about two hours every morning, the aim being
to show systematic work, with unity of idea in songs, games, stories, gifts, and
occupations. An excellent opportunity for child-study will here be afforded, a^
the effect of the exercises on the children can be watched from day to day. A
course of lessons will be given covering the general principles of the Kindergar-
ten, with as much detail in the use of materials as time will allow. While this
course is not designed to give adequate training for the work, it will be found
helpful to those who intend to take up the study later, as by this comprehensive
view of the whole a better understanding of the relation of the parts will be
gained. These lessons will also be of great value to teachers who desire to base
their primary and other school work on Kindergarten ideas, but are unable to
devote the requisite time necessary for a complete course. Since the Kindergar-
ten is now generally accepted as the foundation of all educational work, it is
desirable that teachers of all grades should fully comprehend its fundamental
principles. Various conferences will be held, some of which will be devoted to
free discussions, and others to songs and games. This course also offers advan-
tages to those Kindergartners who feel the limitations of insufficient preparation

572 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [July, 1896.

for their work, or lack of opportunity for regular study, while to all who attend
it is hoped it will prove an inspiration for better work in their chosen profession.

Here are the chief reasons assigned for the existence of Summer-Schools,
with reference to teachers :

Because they afford an opportunity for teachers to study without giving up
teaching ; because they enable teachers to come into close relationship with the
ablest instructors in the country' ; because they enable them each year to get
direct the best and most recent thoughts of the ablest educators ; because they
enable those doing the same kind of work under similar or different conditions to
meet together and consult with one another ; because they bring together teachers
from all parts of the country ; because no ambitious teacher can afford to let the
long summer vacation pass without getting new inspiration from some source ;
because the teacher who does not grow more valuable each year, grows less so ;
because that teacher who is worn out at the close of the year's work will rest bet-
ter by having a change of scene and a change of work for a part of the vacation,
than by being idle the whole of it ; because the Summer-School combines rest,
recreation, and profit with the simplest outlay of time, money, and energy ; because
the demand for progressive, wide-awake teachers is greater than the supply.

A copy of the excellent prospectus issued by the National Summer-School
may be obtained by sending a small amount in postage-stamps to Manager Sher-
man Williams, Glens Falls, N. Y.

* * *

We have received the Bulletin containing information regarding the courses
of lectures to be given from July 6 to August 27 at Saratoga Springs, N. Y.
The list of speakers includes almost the entire faculty of Union College ; together
with Professor Edwin K. Mitchell, dean of the Union Theological Seminary,
Hartford, Conn. ; Professor Harlan Creelman, Ph.D., Yale University ; Professor
J. F. McCurdy, Ph.D., University of Toronto; Professor E. P. Gould, D.D.,
Episcopal Divinity School, Philadelphia ; Professor Henry Ferguson, Trinity Col-
lege, Hartford. Among the subjects for the courses of study are the languages,
Latin, Greek, German, Spanish, French ; English literature ; mathematics,
physics, botany, biology, engineering, physical education, psychology, and ethics.
Religious thought will be represented by numerous lectures on Israel among the
Nations ; New Testament Literature ; the Church and the Roman Empire ; the
Mediaeval Church, and present theological tendencies.

The citizens of Saratoga have been desirous to be cosmopolitan in their
plans. At once the most aristocratic and the most democratic of summer resorts,
Saratoga's great and superbly equipped hotels, with their famous orchestras,
touch elbows with quiet little home-like retreats or boarding-houses suited to the
tired, the studious, or the modest and thoughtful scholar. Good board and lodg-
ing can be had for from $5 per week to $10 per day. Summer-School visitors
will be accommodated at the lower prices, when desired, of course remembering
that such price does not mean always sole occupancy of a room or an expensive
menu. Information on this subject will be furnished on application to Bureau of
Information, Athenaeum Summer-Schools. Application should be made promptly,
as names are already being received and registered.

The distance from Saratoga to Lake Champlain is very short. As no pro-
vision is made at Saratoga for Summer-School lectures from the Catholic point of
view, earnest seekers after truth will find much to learn by a visit to the Catholic
Summer-School near Plattsburgh. M. C. M.

GOOD INSTRUCTION SHAH, GIVE GRACE." — Proverbs.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIII.

•AUGUST, 1896.

No. 377.

THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE.

[HE special object for which all call-
ing themselves Irishmen, no matter
where they live, are to meet in
Dublin by their representatives is
to find some way to end the differ-
ences among the Irish at home.
The solution ought to be easy.
The Irish at home do not dispute
about the end. If the question at
issue is susceptible of precise state-
ment, it is one of means. There
is no principle involved. All are
agreed that Home Rule is the end
for which they strive.

Passions have been excited among the sections at home. In
consequence the issue is obscured.* A method has become a
principle ; a plan of action the essence of the object sought ;
patriotism has become faction. This is sad. The Irish abroad
can alone bring to the hour minds free from bias, motives
above suspicion. It is not suggested that any one bearing part
in the unhappy differences among the parliamentary party is

* The writer belonged to a Liberal Club started in Dublin to promote Mr. Gladstone's
Irish policy. In 1888 a rule (tacit) was made by which Mr. Parnell and any member of the
Irish Parliamentary party, as well as every member of his former cabinet, and every promi-
nent English and Scotch supporter of his policy, should, when passing through Dublin, be
invited to a club dinner. This shows the relations between Mr. Gladstone's supporters and
the undivided Home-Rule party. It may be added that one of the earliest members of the
club was Mr. Serge*ant Hemphill, who contested one of the divisions of Liverpool as aGlad-
stonian at the general election of 1886.

574 THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Aug.,

actuated by ambition or treachery ; but the Irish abroad are
out of the reach of any personal or sinister influence. Their
views must carry weight.

It cannot be pretended that they have no right to speak in
this supreme crisis when the destinies of the country for which
they have made sacrifices of time and money are trembling in
the balance. What would the Irish question be but for the
exiles? Mr. Chamberlain, in the classical dialect of Birming-
ham, described the whole Irish party under Mr. Parnell as "a
kept party." As he is an important member of the Unionist
government, we translate his words into English — he meant that
Mr. Parnell and his followers were a band of political prosti-
tutes maintained by the servant girls of New York. It was the
vivid rhetoric of the revolutionary Radical who could find no-
where a parallel for Irish government except in Venice under
the Austrians, Warsaw under the czar.

It is not necessary to confine ourselves to the testimony of
Mr. Chamberlain as to what the Irish abroad have done for
the cause. The support of the exiles has been for three cen-
turies a force upon which their countrymen could reckon. The
state papers prove it under the Tudors, the Stuarts, William
and Mary, and the Georges as emphatically as the subscription
lists of the newspapers have been proving it since the Home-
Rule agitation began. Wherever over Europe an exile rose to
civil or military distinction, the cabinet or the camp was only
valued by him as an instrument to be used in the freedom of
his country. For the sake of that little island an exile who was
prime minister of Spain "delivered defiance in high terms to an
ambassador of George III."* For her sake the contracts of
military service into which the exiles entered contained a clause
by which they were enabled to resign and pass into the armies
of any power at war with England.. A man might have before
him, in Spain, every prospect of honorable ambition, every step
of his life might have attested his ability and fortune ; but let
France declare war against England, and he flung all to the
winds, left life behind him and carried his last years to the
duty he thought most sacred — the liberation of his native land ;
or in default of that, the power to strike a blow at her oppres-
sor. This is so well established that we can trace the foot-
prints of Irishmen on the continent of Europe by the reports
of English ambassadors. There was hardly a prominent Irish-
man, from the reign of Elizabeth down, who was not dogged

* Macaulay's History of England.

1896.] THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 575

by some representative of England who, in this pursuit, com-
bined the engagements of high policy with the practices of
the spy.

It is, therefore, no extraordinary claim to ask that the
wishes of the exiles of to-day shall be deferred to, if. necessary
as a court of final appeal. At the very least they should be
regarded as an influence of concurrent authority. They are
more than allies, and yet the judgment of allies has been al-
ways regarded as a concluding power in the settlement of differ-
ences. It would be a strange contention to maintain, if a coun-
try were liberated by her exiled sons, that these should have
no place in the state they created. On the same footing those
stand to-day who have helped, by moral and material support,
the advancement of the cause in Parliament. Any other view
would mean that to leave Ireland entailed the penalty of per-
petual banishment ; in other words, that Irishmen in the United
States or elsewhere possessed no more right or interest in the
country of their birth than Mr. Cecil Rhodes, who was per-
mitted to subscribe to the parliamentary fund in Mr. Parnell's
time. Yet this in the last analysis is the conclusion which
would take the money subscribed by exiles, but would not al-
low them to say that there shall be no more dissensions.

We are pronouncing no opinion on the merits of the sec-
tions. There must be somewhere a right-in-theory party
among them, a party with a title to represent the nation in
carrying on the warfare. Mr. Dillon and Mr. Redmond both
cannot lead this party. If both acted together loyally upon
all occasions, had the same friends and the same enemies, the
fact that there were two leaders and two parties might not do
much harm. At the same time it would be open to very con-
siderable objection, because the Irish party from its very nature
is a war-party. It is an army in a hostile country, with ene-
mies watchful to take advantage of every error, every incident,
every chance ; keen to resort to every temptation and flattery
and threat. They would never abandon the hope of setting
the sections against each other.

Unfortunately no art is needed to rend the alliance. Its
quality has afforded the enemies of Ireland food for congratu-
lation and supplied them with new poison for the arrows of
their malice. We had only a few days ago a lamentable exhi-
bition of the amity which inspires the leaders. On the second
reading of the Land Bill reciprocal courtesies passed between
Mr. Dillon and Mr. Redmond. Each gentleman invited the

576 THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Aug.,

other to accompany him before his constituents, amid "much
laughter " in that house which has passed a coercion act
for Ireland almost every year since it assumed control over
Irish legislation. If these amenities of hate were not pregnant
with disaster to the national cause, we might pass them by as
specimens of doubtful taste, or instances of the decay of Irish
wit among public men, or cite them in proof of the depressing
influence of alien surroundings on the spirits of men capable
of better things.

It is humiliating that such challenges should be given by
men each of whom, in his own way and according to his lights,
desires to serve his country. A great cause is degraded by
them. Think of the Irish abroad who wrecked their lives and
fortunes for it, from O'Donel, whose broken heart found rest
beneath the towers of Valladolid Cathedral in the last years of
Elizabeth, to the impetuous chief, once the Alcibiades of
Young Ireland, who led his brigade under the iron hail of
Fredericksburg that he might establish a debt to be repaid in
Ireland. That cause almost levelled to the dull commonplaces
of the clowns in a pantomime is the latest novelty ! Why
should we remember the illustrious dead ? What is it to us
that Hugh O'Neil gave his statesman's craft and military
genius to that cause ; that Owen O'Neil brought to it his re-
nown ; that Sarsfield devoted to it his unexampled chivalry ;
that it inspired the elegant wit, the imagination, the more than
mortal energy of Grattan, and was consecrated in the boy
Emmet's baptism of blood ? There is a new spirit abroad.
WTe helots of 1896, without the excuse of drunkenness, without
the satisfaction of a promised bribe, make ourselves the laugh-
ing-stock of our masters soberly and gratuitously. Honor, duty,
fame, are words that have no meaning for us. Country! — it is
but a mischievous sound by which an area of land is lifted to
a passion and a faith in the heart and mind of fools. Away
with the barbarism which revolts this cosmopolitan age !
Thinking of oppression and injustice has made wise men mad.
Better to preserve a temperate pulse and the even current of
the blood ; better to make the Treasury and the country mem-
bers laugh than to continue a struggle far older than legal
memory, and which seems more remote from settlement now
than it was when the late government was in power. The
first exile of that war with England, St. Laurence of Dublin,
died more than seven centuries ago. It is time to stop this
waste of energy and happiness, and the best way to compass

1896.] THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 577

such a result is to continue the quarrels which for the last few
years have afforded so much pleasure to the enemy. Positively
this appears to describe correctly the processes of thought by
which the leaders and their factions have come to make the
Irish name and cause the by-word of the world.

Everything that has arisen since these wretched differences
began is full of mockery and humiliation. Lord Rosebery,
who predicted his own career with more than the ordinary
Scotchman's second sight, has with oracular duplicity told the
world that Home Rule cannot be obtained for an indefinite
time. The solid element in his prophecy is the dissension of
Home-Rulers and not the will of the "principal partner." The
threats of the Nonconformists would never have been made but
for the discredited condition of the Irish cause in consequence
of it. An Irish party can obtain Home Rule despite of Scotch
platitudes, Birmingham epigrams, Nonconformist treason. But
it must be an Irish party strong and disciplined and made
solid as a wedge — a party set apart for the work, one in which
each man's personality is extinguished, but in the service of
which his bast gifts are employed because it is his country's
service.

If a man professes to be a patriot and enters Parliament
because there he can best serve his country, what sacrifice does
he make that exceeds the self-negation of every young Tory
who follows his leader with exemplary indifference to the mer-
its of the question on which he votes? Those gentlemen of
Ireland are not sent by their countrymen to a debating society,
or worse still, to act on the old vicious principle of merging
themselves in the English parties. They are the expression of
the country's determination that Irish affairs shall be managed
at home. If they do not take this estimate of themselves they
betray their trust.

It is beside the Irish question, which is the only question,
to say that Mr. Parnell was deserted, flung to the English
wolves and done to death. Suppose he was unfairly treated,
is his memory to be made an immortal mischief? We desire
to discuss this matter broadly and frankly. Is a party repre-
senting the vindictive recollections of his admirers, and nothing
else, a reasonable party ? Is it an honest party, considering
the circumstances of the unhappy country, which can be short-
ly formulated as the possession of an alien administration, an
incompetent bureaucracy, a decreasing population, diminishing
resources, an increasing police rate, poor rate, county rate, a

578 THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Aug.,

hostile magistracy and judiciary? It is not an honest party;
it cannot be an honest party in view of this declaration of the
condition of Ireland — a declaration far below the scope and
significance of what a full statement of the case would be.
For instance, from our formula is omitted the circumstance
that the people who pay the county rate have not a shred of
influence in voting it. In this one particular Ireland is taxed
(and in some counties the tax is very heavy) by bodies respon-
sible to no one, who alone appropriate the sums levied, ap-
point the officials, and regulate the expenditure. Again, the
poor rate is assessed, levied, and expended by bodies in which
the representative principle is to a large extent a farce. But
we need not proceed. We have Mr. Chamberlain's authority
for a parallel between English government in all its classes in
Ireland and that of Austria in Venice, of Russia in Warsaw, at
the time that English Liberals were plotting with the Revolu-
tionists of Europe for the overthrow of the first, and when the
hand of the second was heaviest on Poland.

Neither is the party a reasonable one in the only sense in
which there can be reasonableness in the matter ; and that is,
that Mr. Redmond's attitude is the correct one to preserve the
national character before Ireland and the world. The recent
movement of the Nonconformists is pointed out as a vindication
of this attitude. It is nothing of the kind. These good people
never cared for Home Rule. They united with the Home-
Rule party to obtain concessions to their body, and above all
in preparation for the attack upon the Established Church.
We are sorry to say that something resembling their cynical
and impudent selfishness is to be witnessed in the conduct of
the Irish Presbyterians. The disabilities of the latter went with
those of the Catholic body, but it was the Catholics who bore
the heat and burden of the day. The social position of the
Presbyterians gave them no status in the country. As long
as the Irish Establishment lasted they were nothing socially,
despite a fair proportion of wealth, intellect, and ambition.
Under Liberal administrations they obtained a share of office
and emolument, but Liberal administration was an impossibility
without Irish Catholic support. Thus we find the Irish Presby-
terians the interested and unnatural allies of the Catholics.
When the Irish Church was disestablished the Presbyterians
rose to something like equality with the Episcopalian Protes-
tants ; they could then afford to kick the ladder by which they
had risen.

1896.] THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 579

But the English Nonconformists have not yet mounted the
ladder.* The tempest in the tea-urn will subside, and again, as
before, they will come back with sweet words and looks to the
alliance. There was a break with the Irish representatives in
1859. It was of short duration. The Radicals came back to
camp, and their united efforts defeated Lord Derby. From
1860 until 1868 governments changed with the rapidity of scenes
in a kaleidoscope, because the Nonconformists and Irish differed,
until Sir John Gray, in handing over to Mr. Gladstone in the
latter year the result of his labor and expenditure on the
statistics on the Irish Church, brought about a new alliance
sealed in the condemnation of that " monstrous iniquity," as the
Nonconformists so virtuously described it.

We need not despair of the support of some party in
England when we are once more united. The delegates from the
United States and the British colonies are determined that the
sacrifices of this generation are not to be thrown away. They
are the arbiters of the hour. They ought to be ; for not a
single benefit has been obtained for Ireland for two centuries
that has not had its source in the sympathy and support of the
exiles acting on the counsels of the countries in which they
lived, or the possibilities of the time. The present is full of
possibilities. The difficulty of Philip is an eternal opportunity
to a watchful nation. Events sometimes rush with the speed of
storm-driven clouds. In 1779 Ireland was without trade, her
parliament a registering machine of the follies or atrocities of
the English Privy Council. In 1782 she was a sovereign nation,
with a great legislature, a citizen army, and the promise of a
glorious future. In 1856 the last conspicuous Irishman had
left the country in despair. In 1866 a suspended habeas

* An important Irish Catholic influence in alliance with the Home-Rule party, viz., that
of which the late Mr. Gray was a central figure and the Freeman the unacknowledged organ,
discussed the question of opening the Lord-Lieutenancy to Catholics when the second Home-
Rule government would come into power. The name of the person who, it was thought,
should be first Catholic Lord-Lieutenant was agreed upon. We do not know that the views
of his friends were communicated to this distinguished person ; but the idea was abandoned
lest it might embarrass Mr. Gladstone, and with some understanding that the great seal of
Ireland should be given to a Catholic. It is unnecessary to say that the lord chancellor under
the second Home-Rule government was a Protestant. Here again an absurd deference to
Nonconformity. It may be said now, to explain more distinctly some allusions in the article,
that the undue regard for Nonconformist prejudice upon which Mr. Gladstone and the Home-
Rule party acted has forced some of the most loyal subjects of the crown into the anarchical
imperialism of which Mr. Chamberlain is the exponent. The idea of a Catholic being an
ally or a follower of the Unionist first president of England ! With regard to the lord-lieu-
tenancy of Ireland we may add that Catholic inferiority is still maintained. To be eligible for
that high office in the most Catholic country in the world, a Catholic must become a Jew or a
Mussulman.

580 THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Aug.,

corpus act testified that the country was not dead. The next
decade saw the disestablishment of the Government Church, the
Land Act of 1870, the rise of the Home-Rule movement, and
the year that concluded the succeeding decade witnessed the
first introduction of the Home-Rule Bill by the Prime Minister
of England.

The Irish party must once more be raised to the solidity
and strength it held in 1886. This must be the work of the
convention. The exiles who are- to be there have, the power to
accomplish it. If they abandon the cause, the country shall be
blotted from the nations, and the last page shall close of a
history that links the mysteries of the earlier world with the
rise of European civilization, and this with the dawn of con-
stitutional government, and this with the latest development of
representative institutions. They will abandon the cause if the
factions are impracticable. Let those who may be responsible
for such a consummation think of the present which they are
to face ; think of the future which shall preserve their names
with the names of all who in any land or any age have
labored to earn the scorn and hatred of the human race.

1896.] REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 581

REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE AFTER
THE CRIMEAN WAR.

BY ONE OF THE ENGLISH EMBASSY.

'HE Crimean War had been over for more than a
year, and people were beginning to recover
from the strain and anxiety of those two years.
Hardly a family in England but had lost some
one dear to them.

Constantinople was then the city par excellence to visit.
We were all dying to see Scutari, where Florence Nightingale
had nursed the poor soldiers, and to see the sultan, the harems,
and, if possible, Sebastopol.

At Marseilles we embarked on the Messageries Imperiales.

Here we found on board Mr. S — - (now Lord S ), going

to his post as secretary at Athens. He was a great philo-Turk,
and had intimate friends among the Turkish pashas, even
living in their houses.

Mr. Longworth, a consul in the Levant, and his bride were
also on board, and Major Byng-Hall, the Queen's messenger.
What a grumbler he was ! worse even than a soldier ; he had
the best cabin, the cuisine was excellent, as it generally is in
French boats, yet he would look at the well-spread dejeuner
and say, with a sigh, " All this would I give for a cup of tea
and a new-laid egg."

We landed at Messina for a few hours ; went to see the
boautiful Byzantine church, and lunched at the hotel. My
pretty maid distinguished herself by going into hysterics on
meeting in the courtyard a courier to whom she had engaged
herself to be married the year before at Homburg, from which
time she had heard nothing of him.

Two days more brought us to Athens. I insisted on landing
and going to the Acropolis, though I was warned I might get
a sun-stroke. The heat was certainly awful — it was the middle
of July — but we accomplished it, and lunched at the hotel
afterwards with Mr. S .

After a delightful voyage from the Piraeus we passed the
Dardanelles at night, and the next morning found ourselves in
the sea of Marmora with the Princes' Islands in the distance.

582

REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE

[Aug.,

Soon we caught sight of Constantinople. The white minarets
flashing in the sun, the dome of St. Sophia, and the many-
colored houses formed a picture never to be forgotten. On the

Asiatic shore lay
the gloomy cem-
etery of cypress-
es, which extends
for miles ; while
in the fore-
ground stood the
hospital and bar-
racks of Scutari.
As we round-
ed Seraglio Point

- the view up the
3 Golden Horn,

g the men-of-war

£ at anchor, the

| Bosphorus steam-

o ers rushing byr

o the myriads of

s caiques skim-

53 ming the water

£ like swallows,

2 Leander's Tower

„ in the distance,
the gay dresses
8 — all enchanted

- me, and I was
sorry when my
husband told me
we were not to
land, but to row
up in a caique to
Therapia. After
four or five hours
in a baking sun
we arrived at a
pretty little vil-
lage facing the

entrance to the Black Sea, where we got the cool sea-breeze
every evening. Here were the summer residences of the Eng-
lish and French embassies, with beautiful hanging gardens down

1896.] AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR. 583

to the edge of the quay. The hotel stood on a point of land
at the entrance to the little harbor, commanding charming views
of the Sultan's Valley and the Giant's Mountain, where Elisha
is supposed to be buried, on the Asiatic shore.

The next morning I went out to explore, and found a
nice little quay leading from the hotel. An English lady and
gentleman came forward to my husband, and he introduced
them as Mr. Cumberbatch, the consul-general at Constantinople,
and his wife. He was the most perfect specimen of a court-
eous, well-bred Englishman, and he proved afterwards a very
kind friend.

The gardens of the French and English embassies were
lovely; but I was advised not to walk in the early morning in
the English garden, as Lord Strangford, the oriental secretary,
was trying the cold-water cure there. Mr. Alison, the first
secretary and charg6 d'affaires, had chosen for the time to
imagine himself an Arab chief, and had pitched his tent in the
garden, with his horses tethered outside, himself dressed in a
sort of Broussa dressing-gown, with his belt stuck full of pistols
and daggers. The two nicest members of the embassy were
young Mr. Antrobus and Mr. de Norman. The latter was
shortly afterwards sent to China, where he was murdered, along
with Mr. Bowlby, the Times correspondent, who was then also
at Constantinople. Mr. Antrobus was very young, only twenty-
two ; he was handsome and had a beautiful complexion. When
I went to visit the harems I found that the Turkish ladies
admired him greatly. He afterwards left the service, turned
Roman Catholic, and became a priest in the Brompton Oratory.

I went one afternoon to Yenikue, the next village to
Therapia, to hear the Hungarian gypsies play. The beauty,
rank, and fashion of the two villages had assembled, and
several smart three-oared cai'ques came over from Bayukdere ; a
three-oared caique .held the same position as a barouche and
pair does in England. Princess Aristarchi landed as we did,
and we were introduced. I was curious to see her, for she was
supposed to be not only so fascinating that she turned the
heads of most of the embassies, including the ambassadors, but
she had also great political influence. I found out afterwards
that her brother was the sultan's doctor. She was rather
pretty, pale and slight ; very untidy, but with astonishingly
good manners and remarkably shrewd. She was the daughter
of a clock-maker in Athens ; her husband was a hospodar of
Wallachia.

REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE

[Aug.,

I also made acquaintance with Mme. Baltaggi, the half-
English wife of Theodore Baltaggi, a Greek merchant who
was supposed to have begun life selling slate-pencils in the
streets of Constantinople. It must have been very remunera-
tive, for on his death he left each of his twelve children

SEBASTOPOL BEFORE THE WAR.

;£ioo,ooo. She was a very pretty woman. The Baltaggis had
a palace on the Bosphorus which rivalled the French and
English embassies.

Mme. Aristarchi offered to take me to Fuad Pasha's harem,
and called for me in her caique. We rowed for an hour, and
stopped at a pretty wooden house surrounded by gardens, on
the Asiatic shore. We went through two or three barely fur-
nished rooms, with divans running round covered in Broussa
silk, and at last into a small drawing-room furnished a 1'Eu-
ropeenne, where we found Mme. Fuad, a very fat woman, who
might have been handsome if she had not had three chins.
Mme. Aristarchi spoke Turkish faultlessly, and they were evi-
dently great friends. Mme. Fuad sent for coffee and sweets,
asked me how old I was, and if I had any children, etc. She
then asked me to guess her age ; she looked about forty-five.
Mme. Aristarchi said to me, "Guess her as young as you can";
and seeing that her two fat sons were married, I said " Thirty-

1896.]

AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR.

585

five," at which she was rather offended and said that by Turk-
ish years, which were shorter, it might be, but by English years
she was not nearly so old. Mme. Cassin, her eldest son's wife,
was the beauty of the Bosphorus. She was tall and slight, with
very delicate features, pale complexion, and beautiful black
eyes. Mme. Fuad sent for all her slaves, and particularly
pointed out a girl who had refused to enter the sultan's harem,
which was thought a most wonderful thing to do. The sultan
had seen her on the Bosphorus and sent for her. She had red
hair curling all over her head, but she was not otherwise
pretty.

SULTAN MAHOMET MURAD.

All the Turkish ladies wore their hair cut across the fore-
head, a fashion followed by us later on. Mme. Cassin became
a widow very early, and some years after became a convert to
Christianity, and managed to escape to France with a European,

586 REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE [Aug.,

whom she married. She was helped, I believe, by the French
governess, of whom there is generally one in every harem.

All the servants stood on the steps expecting backsheesh as
we left. I believe that visit cost ten pounds.

At last the new English ambassador, Sir Henry Bulwer, ar-
rived— a perfect contrast to his predecessor in every way. The
attaches, who had groaned under the strict rule of Lord Strat-
ford and who even now mentioned his name with bated breath,
were delighted. He brought a lot of hangers-on, to all of whom
he had promised good posts, consulates, etc. None of these
promises were, I believe, fulfilled.

Sir Henry soon called on us. A pale, lackadaisical man
with handsome features, he sauntered into our salon one Sunday
afternoon. He made himself very agreeable, called every one
his dear boy, and after he had left there was a chorus of ad-
miration from all in the room. Under his regime England soon
lost the prestige she had gained through Lord Stratford's un-
remitting efforts.

The Russian ambassador, who lived at Bayukder'6 (a pretty
town at the entrance to the Black Sea much frequented by the
merchants and foreigners who had not palaces and gardens of
their own), asked us to a soiree dansante.

We spent two days at Princess Aristarchi's villa at Bayuk-
dere". It was a most untidy house ; with difficulty could I get
soap and towels.

Among the visitors at the hotel at Therapia were General
Kmety and General Eber, exiles from Hungary. General Eber
was a remarkably good-looking man, and had twice sat for the
picture of our Lord. He was an avowed Catholic, but I think
he was a Jew by race. His knowledge of the English language
was marvellous. After poor Bowlby had left for China he was
for many years correspondent for the Times. His successor
was Mr. Butt, a barrister at the consular court. He had been
in Constantinople for some years, when he was engaged in a
case — a collision between a Maltese and a Russian ship. The
Russians, determined to win, sent to England for a famous
judge, later on the master of the rolls. Mr. Butt won the

case, and Sir B , seeing he was a clever man, said,

" Why don't you practise in England instead of staying out
here ? "

" Simply," returned Mr. Butt, "because I tried for two
years in London with no results, while here I make ten or
twelve hundred a year."

1896.]

AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR.

587

"All that will be changed now," said Sir B ; "you come

over and I will do all I can for you."

Sir B was as good as his word. Mr. Butt speedily got

into good practice ; he was made councillor to the Admiralty
Court, and would no doubt have become solicitor-general, but
his health failing, he took a judgeship, and died comparatively

;SS REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE [Aug.,

young. He married a pretty American whom he met at Hom-
burg.

The personnel of the embassy were a curious lot ; all clever
but eccentric. First came Mr. Alison, the first secretary, a won-
derful linguist, very agreeable but frightfully ugly. He was
the only man who did not tremble before the great Elchi, Lord
Stratford de Redcliffe ; in fact, Lord Stratford even consulted
him and took his advice. He had a thorough knowledge of
the East and of the Turk, and was no doubt remarkably clever ;
but his freaks were astonishing. He took it into his head to
dress as a ca'fqueji and ply for hire up and down the Bosphorus,
but to his disgust, on asking for his fee from a woman whom
he had ro'wed for miles against the stream, she shook her head
^ftd-.^aid :• " No bono, Johnny; yesterday elchi " (ambassador;
a'fhming to his having been charg£ d'affaires), " to-day caiqueji."
An'otlier time he chose to bathe in the Bosphorus in a suit of
armor ; of course he went down like a stone, but he had the
presence of mind to unfasten it, and left it at the bottom of
the sea. He was born at Malta, and was said to be the son
of a Scotch sergeant, and I think began life as an interpreter
or dragoman. He rose solely by his own merits, and, ugly as
he was, he obtained the affections of Mme. Theodore Baltaggi,
whom he married the year after her husband's death. Her
health failed and she died of consumption at Cairo a few months
after her marriage, while he was in Persia, having been ap-
pointed minister there. Some of her children were very pretty,
with large Greek eyes. Helen, the second one, married at six-
teen her guardian, Mr. Vetsura, the Austrian secretary, a man
of over forty. Although he was only of la petite noblesse and
she a nobody by birth, she obtained a great succifs in the most
exclusive town in Europe, Vienna, and was intimate with the
royal family for many years. Prince Rudolph fell in love with
her daughter, a pretty girl, tall and fair, with beautiful blue
eyes. The tragedy which ended with the suicide of Prince Ru-
dolph arose out of this meeting.

I made frequent sketching excursions to the coast of Asia
in the caique. Nothing could be more delightful than coasting
in the caique down the shore, seeing the grave old Turks sit-
ting in their gardens smoking nargilehs. On Fridays we went
to the sweet waters of Asia, a lovely spot with huge plane-
trees. At the landing-places were dozens of caiques from all
the villages and palaces around. Hundreds of Turkish women
were seated, chattering and laughing, eating sweets and drink-

1896.]

AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR.

589

ing coffee ; several gilded arabas and coaches and two or three
smart broughams were waiting in the background.

Cabouli Effendi, who had been for some years ambassador
in London and was quite anglicized, asked me to come and
dine with his wife. He sent his caique to fetch me. A servant
was waiting on the little landing-place opposite their house, and
immediately led me through the garden to a very pretty house.
We came into a deliciously cool room, with Turkish lattice-work
blinds letting in the cool breeze, where sat Mme. Cabouli, a

PALACE OF ABDUL HAMID.

rather pretty woman about twenty-five. She seemed pleased to
see me, and addressed me in very good French. After a few
minutes she clapped her hands, and two attendants came in,
one bringing a little round table and the other a tray with a
gold-embroidered cloth ; underneath were the dishes for our
dinner. I got her to sit to me for a crayon sketch, but after
a few minutes she jumped up and left the room, and returned
with a blue velvet bandeau round her head studded with dia-
mond brooches, rather to my disgust ; but I saw she would be
very disappointed if I did not put them in. It is against the
laws of the Prophet to have your portrait taken — more particu-
VOL. LXIII.— 38

590 REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE [Aug.,

larly for women. I took the sketch home and thought no more
about it ; but several months after, as I was packing up to
leave the country, two zaptiehs came with a letter from Cabouli
Effendi asking me to return it.

Lord Stratford de Redcliffe came out in August to bid
adieu to the sultan. He was accompanied by his wife and
daughters and a regular suite of attaches and hangers-on. Lord
Stratford was a very handsome old man, tall and commanding
looking, with white hair, an aquiline nose, and an eagle eye.
Sir Henry Bulwer gave them a grand dejeuner before their
departure, to which all the corps diplomatique, the consuls, and
a few travellers and outsiders like ourselves, were invited. We
went over in caiques to the Sultan's Valley, in Asia, a beauti-
ful spot with groves of plane-trees and a winding path leading
up to the Giant's Mountain, where was a splendid view over
the Black Sea.

We found luncheon spread in a large tent, and could
almost have imagined ourselves in an English park were it not
for the old Turks sitting about enjoying keff, as they call it,
which means sitting in the shade smoking a nargileh and from
time to time drinking a tiny cup of coffee.

I was introduced to Lord Stratford, who was very cordial,
and said he had known my husband well during the war.
Lady Stratford was also very amicable ; she had the remains of
great beauty. She adored the Bosphorus, and had reigned as
a queen here for nearly twenty years. I could see by the
glances she cast at Bulwer that it was very trying to her to see
another man in her husband's place.

Fuad Pasha, the grand vizier, gave a grand night fete in
honor of the sultan's birthday, the I5th of August. It was a
lovely night, and as we rowed down the Bosphorus to Kandili
rockets and fireworks were thrown up every now and then at
the different villages. At the landing-place on the steps stood
soldiers holding torches, all dressed in the different costumes
of their province.

We were received in a large sallc prepared for dancing, by
Fuad Pasha and a number of minor officials. The ladies were
invited to go to the harem to see Madame Fuad. I availed
myself of the invitation, and found the rooms crowded with
Turks, Armenians, Greeks, and Europeans. The Turkish ladies
were resplendent with diamonds. Madame Cassin looked very
lovely in a rose-colored silk, the bodice covered with diamonds,
and of course high in the neck. Supper was served in a tent,

1896.]

AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR.

591

and I was told that every plate was gold ; the tables were
beautifully arranged, and the supper excellent. Here I saw Sir
Adolphus Slade, admiral in the Turkish service, and therefore
dressed in the Turkish uniform ; he looked exactly like a Turk,
and had evidently during the fifteen or twenty years of his
residence imbibed their prejudices, for he told me he should
be sorry to see any Englishwoman he knew dance before these
Turks, as they had
such a low opin-
ion of dancing-wo-
men. We return-
ed home in the
early morn, the
sun gilding the
tops of the moun-
tains. It was like
a fairy scene.

The air of the
Bosphorus is very
enervating, and a
slight attack of
fever warned me
that I wanted a
change ; Dr. Zoh-
rab, who was con-
sidered the best
doctor, recom-
mended a few days
at the Princes'
Islands.

Sir Henry Bul-
wer was going
to the Princes'
Islands at that
time and asked
us to join his
party. We, how- A MOORISH MUSICIAN OF THE HAREM.

ever, started a day before.

I noticed on board a group of four beautiful sisters, with
features of the pure Greek type ; but, unlike the modern Greeks,
they were tall with finely formed figures. They were the daugh-
ters of a Mr. Glavani, a Levantine of Italian origin. The young-
est was married to a Mr. Black, the grandson of Byron's Maid

592 REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE [Aug.,

of Athens ; her beauty had not been transmitted to him, for
he had red hair and a snub nose.

There were several Turkish soldiers on board fresh from the
provinces ; they were off-hand, and seemed inclined to be rude.
I noticed that the passengers gave them a wide birth. Turks
may not be cruel, but they have such a contempt for Chris-
tians that the slightest thing would make a row, and Turkish
women are horribly rude ; the only time one came into contact
with them was on board the steamers and in the streets, when
they would push one in the rudest manner. Of course in the
capital they were more or less civilized, but in the interior I
fancy the hatred between Christian and Turk is as strong as
ever. A Turkish soldier pushed by us and took a stool be-
longing to our party ; but General Eber said it was best to
take no notice.

We reached Prinkipo in an hour and a half. Our Maltese
servant had taken rooms for us in a little hotel near the land-
ing-place ; it was clean, but the food was primitive ; pilaff and
caviare predominated at dinner, and we all agreed that we must
have come to the wrong hotel. Lord Strangford, generally a
most patient man, grumbled very much at his room. I found
afterwards that the hotel-keeper, hearing that there was a milord
among the party, gave the best room to the one whose appear-
ance he took to be most distinguished — namely, Mr. Antrobus,
a tall, handsome young man — while Lord Strangford, with his
spectacles, shabby clothes, and unkempt beard, was taken for
the servant, and given the room next to my maid.

The next morning Mr. Antrobus, my husband, and I started
on a tour of inspection — I on a donkey, they on foot. It was
a beautiful morning in September. On one side we saw the
Gulf of Ismed in Asia ; on the other, the cupolas of St. Sophia
were shining in the distance. We wound our way through
groves of myrtle and arbutus for an hour, and turning a corner
came suddenly in sight of a large hotel, with marble terraces,
standing on a promontory — the " Grotto of Calypso." " This is
evidently the place," we said ; " let us lunch there, and see what
the food is like." The table (fhdte was just ready, and we were
shown into a beautiful, cool room with windows on all sides.
The lunch was passable, but the view and the rooms were su-
perior to what we had left. We asked if we could have rooms.
" Si, signori," said the Italian landlord. " If you had come
earlier I could have given you the nobile piano, but his excel-
lency the English elchi has taken the rooms." We, however,

1896.] AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR. 593

professed ourselves satisfied with the second floor, and returned
to our inn to recount our success to the rest of the party. All
were delighted, but the parting shot of the hotel-keeper rather
damped our enthusiasm. "Ah!" said he, "you are going
to the Grotto of Calypso. It is very fine with its looking-
glasses and terraces ; but you won't sleep — it is alive with
insects."

We found Sir Henry Bulwer and his hangers-on, his private
secretary, and a Mr. Harris and a Captain Fleetwood Wilson,
at the table d'hote dinner. We spent a very pleasant evening
on the terrace ; the air was beautifully fresh, and the lights of
Constantinople in the distance added to the beauty of the
scene.

When bed-time came I carefully scrutinized my bed. It
looked beautifully clean, but alas ! when the candle was out it
was impossible to sleep. I struck a light, and turning over the
pillow, saw hundreds of little brown insects racing each other.
I spent the night on a chair. The landlord, to whom we com-
plained, shrugged his shoulders and said the whole island had
been infested since the Russian prisoners were there, but they
would not bite us after the first night. I declined to bear
the chance, and we returned.

One of the most charming women among the corps diplomatique
was Mme. Novikoff, the wife of the Russian ambassador. She
was pretty, but delicate like a hot-house flower, as indeed are
most of the Russian ladies, for they spend nine months of
the year in houses heated by hot air. She had lately recov-
ered from a fever, and her hair had been cut short ; it was fair
and curled tightly over her head, which gave her a charmingly
infantine appearance.

Mrs. Cumberbatch used kindly to lend me her white arab ;
the rid.es around were beautiful. One day Mr. Antrobus and
Captain Webster joined us in an excursion to the Wood of
Belgrade, made famous by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. We
passed through the valley of Buyukder£ and inspected the
enormous plane-tree where Godfrey de Bouillon is supposed to
have rested with his army, and then through the Valley of
Roses to the woods. I could have imagined myself in Windsor
forest, it was so like. We came upon a charming little Swiss
village, with houses built of wood. I found it was the fashion
for the rich merchants of Constantinople to spend the month
of May here.

The rainy season set in and the Cumberbatches invited us to

594 REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE [Aug.,

A MUSLIM AT PRAYER.

1896.] AFTER THE CRIMEAN WAR. 595

spend a little time in Pera with them. They were most hos-
pitable, and entertained more than the ambassador.

A new attache now came out, a Mr. de Norman — a relative,
I believe, to Lord Ripon. Though he was but a short time at
Constantinople he was liked very much, and his sad fate was
much deplored by all who knew him. He was sent to China,
and was one of the party taken prisoner under the flag of truce
and tortured to death by the Chinese.

The French ambassador gave a series of dances ; the
French colony mustered strongly. At one of them an incident
occurred which showed how a long-cherished enmity between
two countries breaks forth even when they are at peace. The

Countess L , wife of one of the Italian secretaries, who was

a member of one of the great Milanese families, seeing the
son of Baron Prokesch, the Austrian ambassador, in his white
uniform, said to her partner, " Thank God, I have not seen
that hateful uniform for two years." He foolishly reported it,

and the next morning Count L was challenged by young

Prokesch. It required all the diplomacy of his father to avert
a duel.

I could not leave Constantinople without going over to
Scutari and visiting the graves of the English soldiers. The
cemetery then was beautifully kept ; I wonder if it is now.

We then wandered into the Turkish cemetery, which ex-
tends for miles, thickly planted with the melancholy cypress.
Sometimes you come across a gravestone with the turban at
the feet — a sign that the occupant had been decapitated. A
deadly stillness prevailed ; now and then a group of Turks
passed swiftly by, carrying a coffin ; it was really a city of the
dead, and I was glad to get away from the gloomy spot.

From what I saw of the Turks, how any European woman
could be so lost to self-respect as to marry one of them is beyond
my comprehension ; yet Mr. Cumberbatch says it is often done,
and he has had no end of trouble. He instanced a case : An
Englishwoman at the Isle of Wight let her lodgings to a
young Turk. He was very nice ; spoke English and expressed
his admiration for everything English. She had a pretty
daughter, and when he paid attentions and at last proposed
that he should marry her, and that mother and daughter should
accompany him to Constantinople, the poor benighted woman
sold her house and furniture ; the marriage took place, and all
went well till they reached Turkey. He then refused to let
his wife and mother-in-law go out unless they donned the

596 REMINISCENCES OF CONSTANTINOPLE. [Aug.,

Turkish dress and yashmak, and on the old woman refusing,
he tied her up and beat her. The poor woman at last escaped
and went in tears to Mr. Cumberbatch ; she had no money and
knew not what to do. He told her that he could not interfere
with her daughter, who had by marriage renounced her nation-
ality, but he could send her home as a distressed British sub-
ject ; she said she could not leave her child, and, I believe,
remained in poverty in Constantinople.

Next to the corps diplomatique the Armenians were the
most important people in the place. Bogos Bey had one of
the finest houses in Constantinople ; Monsieur Alyon, another
Armenian, had the best villa and most beautiful gardens at
Buyukder6 ; and certainly the prettiest girl was Mile. Ysaverdans.
She afterwards married Mr. Stratt, a Roumanian. There is no
doubt that they are a clever race, but they are tricky and un-
trustworthy ; they are usurers and money-lenders, hence the
dislike all bear to them.

I went once or twice to the Armenian church ; they are in
communion with the Church of Rome, but the service was differ-
ent and the priests wore long hair, like the Greeks. Remember-
ing the position the Armenians held in those days, it seems to me
as incongruous to hear of their being shot down and imprisoned
as if we were to hear the same of Lord Rothschild, Baron de
Worms, and other influential Jews.

1896.] MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE. 597

MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE.

BY S. M. H. G.

HAD, late in the season, discovered a charming
rustic chapel, embowered in trees, resting upon
the very apex of a mountain in miniature.
Close by the shady foot-bridge that crossed a
clear brook was the fall from which the neigh-
borhood took its name. For fifty feet the stream leaped with
a bound over pale-gray rocks flecked with green, and the spray
which arose was tinged with rainbow colors. Here the birds
had built their nests and warbled their matin hymns, undis-
turbed by the simple service that went on within the chapel.
I chanced upon the spot just at the sunset hour, and, full of the
beauty of the scene, my heart was touched to note the weary
peasants who had labored all day in the fields, and yet climbed
the long, rocky pathway to lay wreaths of wild flowers or
sprays of feathery grasses at the feet of a rough plaster statue
which adorned the right hand of the altar.

As the last bent figure toiled over the stones, I followed
and watched the weary man as he lovingly touched the num-
berless small shrines that pointed the way to the chapel. Only
one of these was visible afar, and that, facing the east at dawn,
was by a rude process turned at noon-day in order that the
sun should ever shine across the face of the Virgin. " Mary of
the Blessed Sunshine " this was called, and I often paused in
after days to gaze with wonder at the rapt expression some
unknown genius had portrayed with clumsy tools upon the
native rock.

Such picturesque bits as abounded hereabout are none too
common, and I made haste to secure food and shelter for a
month's sojourn at the little Gasthof near by.

Wittine Bernheimer, who presided over the beer-mugs and
salad which represented the chief sustenance of the lodgers
beneath her roof, was a kindly frau, whose triple matrimonial
venture had left her in possession of a modest business, which
she conducted quite as much to the profit of the neighbors as
to herself, since the gossip of the grand folk of Neuenahr
was retailed at twilight by the post-carrier, from his bench at

598 MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE. [Aug.,

VVittine's door, to an interested audience of lowly laborers
who, I suspected, contributed his pipe and beer.

Shortly after my arrival the good woman knocked lightly
on my door while I was washing my brushes at nightfall.

"Ach, Herr Maler ! " she cried, folding her plump hands
across her breast, " a strange fortune has befallen me. It
may be that I wrong yourself in accepting it, but surely the
goodness of Heaven must in some way be bound up in this
matter. A haughty dame from the great baths has come out
in a grand coach with her doctor, who insists that she remain
on the healthy mountain-side for the full space of your stay.
Not that the learned man knows of our compact, but that he
has set the limit- of her return to the baths quite at the day
when your lodging bill expires." She paused, and I was per-
plexed.

" And why not ? " I asked.

" Why not ? Is, then, the Herr Maler so kindly disposed
toward our little mountain village that he is willing to bear
the taunts and scolding of a great lady who — may the Blessed
Mary help her! — is not of amiable temper?" I laughed.

" She will not scold me, I suppose ? "

'Heaven help me, adorable Herr Maler! I did not pre-
sume to suggest it, but it may be that I cannot prevent it, for
the rich are in nowise chary of their words to the gifted."

" Go your way, good Wittine, and let me take the chance
of the scolding ; I am quite willing."

Nevertheless I felt a little quaking when I first heard the
sharp tones on the stairway.

" And so, my wise doctor, you presume to say that, with
only a courier and a rustic maid, I must content myself for
many a day far from society and your learned counsel?"

The full, rich voice of an educated German responded with
directness, yet perfect civility:

" Your ladyship has placed in my hands the distinguished
care of a valuable life. I deem it best to insist upon retire-
ment. Here, near to the heart of Nature, you will have the
chance of recovery in a far greater degree than elsewhere. A
daily bulletin can be conveyed to me, and in case of necessity
— mind, not otherwise — I may be summoned by messenger. I
commit you to the care of Wittine Bernheimer and a faith-
ful country lass. Auf Wiedersehen."

He must have gone away immediately, for I soon went
down to regale myself with the " Graubrodchen " for which all

1896.] MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE. 599

Hillesdorf was famous and potato salad, and found a stout,
red-faced matron occupying a rolling-chair in the little vine-
covered portico where I usually dined. She did not conde-
scend to notice the greeting I gave her, but began calling in a
parrot-like way :

" Greta, Elsa ! — whatever is your name, you ungrateful minx
— come hither this instant. I will not be left at the mercy of
a stranger. Girl, girl ! where are you ? "

Instantly there came from a secluded corner of the bower a
charming little Madchen, as fresh as if she had been that hour
created. Scarce more than a child in stature, her shining locks
were like bands of gold twisted above a daintily poised head.
Her peasant waist, of dull red, surmounted a short blue petti-
coat, and a bright silver chain, to which was attached a cruci-
fix, was wound again and again about her neck.

The coloring of her cheek was delicious, and her full blue
eye was undimmed by tears. She smiled as she presented
herself to the ogress, and the sweetness of her speech was
melody.

" O dame of high degree ! " she said with the quaintness of
a past-century courtier, " I rest ever within the sound of your
command. Be conscious of my devotion to the trust imposed
upon me ; I shall waver not in its fulfilment."

My own astonishment was no greater than that of the Grafin,
who added a touch of the ludicrous to the pretty scene by
her demeanor.

" By the gods ! " she exclaimed, " is this a play-house, that
I am greeted with such grandiloquent measures from the lips
of a starveling of the country?" Then subsiding a little, she
continued : " Roll me away — quick, I tell you ! that I may not
be devoured by the gaze of yonder blouse-man."

The thought came to me that her ladyship would regard it
as a cruel wrong did she realize my interest was centred in
the little maid, so that I did not catch the first word of the
girl's response.

" The Herr Maler is not a blouse-man, excellent Grafin.
Our holy shrine, ' Mary of the Blessed Sunshine,' was carven by
such an one as sits yonder."

"Do you presume to instruct me, worm of the earth?" de
manded the countess in wrath.

" And can it be, most admirable Grafin, that so great a
personage hath not seen the wondrous shrine that glows with
consciousness of Divine Love ? My strong-handed twin brothers,

6oo MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE. [Aug.,

Yacob and Karl, shall bear you in their arms to the height
whence the blessed Mary smiles down upon us."

" Stop your chatter, girl ! Borne in the arms of your rough
lads indeed ! "

The scorn with which this was uttered brought my demo-
cratic blood to my brow, but the subject of her wrath was
blissfully innocent, and the sweet, low voice went on :

" They shall carry you in a great chair to-morrow at the
noon-day hour, that your highness may see the merit of the
stone which tips toward the heavens at all times. Ah ! your
heart must swell with gratitude to your humble bearers, that
they have been the cause of your pleasure in watching the
Mother Mary turn in her worship ever and ever to the hea-
venly light."

I think the enraged lady was silenced by the simple earnest-
ness of the child, who rolled the heavy burden on and on
while she talked, until they were quite out of my sight.

But out of sight is not always out of mind, and I caught
myself thinking of the strange pair, as I sketched in solitude
close by the wonderful shrine. As the day drew near its close
quick steps told of the coming of a worshipper, and lo ! in the
glorious color of the sunset, my smiling little Madchen bowed
her head and kissed the stone.

When the sun had climbed to its midday place the following
morning I heard the approach of heavy feet, varied by occa-
sional shrill exclamations, indicating fright, as the party neared
the rocky stand-point of the beautiful shrine.

More than once I was tempted to peep forth from my
retired nook, and verify my suspicions that the gentle little
maid had overcome the scruples of the arrogant mistress, and
that I should see the strong-limbed brothers bearing their
heavy burden ; but I was wise enough to content myself with
very shy glimpses, and to rely chiefly upon my hearing.

" And for what, I pray you, my bold peasants," said the
taunting voice, "have you borne me hither? I see nothing
remarkable about a carved turnstile — my eyes have been fed
upon the art treasures of the universe. But speak — tell me
wherein lies the marvel of this rudely chipped stone ? "

I caught a view of the two stalwart men uncovering their
heads, but only the Madchen answered :

" The good God fashions the fate of each one of us accord-
ing to our need. And it is the necessity of your poor uneasy
nature, worthy Grafin, that has brought you to look upon the

1896.] MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE. 601

face of our Mother of the Blessed Sunshine. See the glory that
clings to the cold gray stone ! There is none greater, for it
tells of the passionate warmth of the Divine Love."

" Tish, child ! the love that blesses is human love — the love
that provides bread and butter, warmth and shelter."

"Ah, poor dear!" she cried, and I thought the child voice
tingled with tears, " know you not that human love is but the
shadow of that which falls from on high ? "

Then I saw her drop upon her knee and plant a kiss on the
brow of the astonished and angry dame, who struck her a
quick blow across the rosy cheek.

I knew it was not in human nature for her kindred to feel
aught but bitter resentment at this insult ; yet only the girl
moved. She arose with a touch of added dignity, and, wiping
away the mark of the angry fingers, she spoke reverently :

" Holy Virgin ! teach me how to deal with this unquiet soul,
so that it may finally lay its great richness in loving satisfac-
tion at thy feet."

Then the small procession went quietly into the valley
again, and when I had dined, and was stretched upon the
greensward for a moment's repose, I saw the strange, wild
countess slumbering in her chair, her faithful attendant gently
fanning the broad red brow with a branch of peacock feathers.

I thought I had lost my interest in this ill-assorted pair, for
my work pressed ; but I was conscious each day that at the
noon-day stroke something of the same scene was repeated,
and I found myself moved almost to tears as the conviction
grew upon me that there was less and less venom in the
speech of the haughty dame.

It was not long ere I heard her say, wearily indeed but
without pride :

" Verily there is a strange fascination in this carven
image."

And the little monitor answered cheerily :

" Ah ! great Grafin, I felt certain that your eyes would be
opened and your heart softened by the blessed sunshine of the
soul which gushes forth from the holy stone. I have run as
fast as my feet can carry me, many and many a day, just to
see the noon-day light take on a new brightness as it passed
here ; and when this has come about all my evil temper, my
unwillingness to labor, my wish for a silken gown and a golden
ring — they have all departed, and I have come back to the
fields as merry as the thrush that sings in the meadow."

6o2 MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHJA^E. [Aug.,

And then I knew that the Madchen smiled and that tears
were very near the eyelids of the countess.

Once she called the girl Liebchen ; and again, when by an
unfortunate backward turn of the wheeled chair a gay parasol
was ruined, the old petulance broke out ; but the child cried,
holding up a finger :

" Be careful ! The blessed Mary is looking at you, and she
knows, as well as we know, that neither of us was at fault.
I did not see you lay your Sonnenschirm across your lap, and
you did not know that I should strike that rough block."

It was very quiet then as they went away. Neither did I
find the little Gasthof in commotion as evening drew near, for
the anger of the great lodger was so pitiable a thing that even
the scullion hid from it, and I had too often been half served
at supper because of the fright of the household.

Still there was evidently little affection granted the poor
rich woman, and I knew that the Madchen ventured no further
with her greeting than to touch her lips to the hem of her mis-
tress's garment.

But how and why came the countess's continued desire to
visit the blessed shrine ? It puzzled me sorely ?

On and on went the finger of Time. My date of departure
was drawing near, and it became necessary that my working
hours be long.

One evening I sat on the floor of the bridge, touching my
canvas rapidly with color which in vain attempted to rival the
hues of nature. Gentle speech fell on my ear ; yet surely it
was the voice of the dame of high degree.

" Liebchen, tell me more of the everlasting love." Then, as
her eye caught the glow of a scarlet poppy that nodded on the
brink of the fall, " Gather first yon gorgeous blossoms, that
they may serve to illustrate your speech."

I did not even turn my eyes from the work in hand, or a
great catastrophe might have been prevented.

Catastrophe, did I say ? Who can tell whether a great gain
to an immortal soul was not that day wrought by the sacrifice
of a human life ? Certainly the consummation of a pure purpose
was reached when, obeying the behest of the wilful countess,
the little maid sprang lightly across the intervening space,
reached for the blood-red poppies, and, losing her foothold,
was precipitated into the torrent below.

Quick as the plash of the waters was in my ear I slid down
upon the bridge's foundation. There I caught Hope's hand, for

1896.] MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE. 603

I saw the slim figure was chained by a blackberry bush just on
the very edge of the foaming tide.

Horrified screams from the waiting mistress soon brought
help, and in a little time we had lifted the golden locks from
their moist bed only to find that the frightful crash had para-
lyzed the child from the base of the brain. Only the head was
alive ; and, as we bore the poor, maimed creature in our arms
past the rolling chair, consciousness beamed in the clear blue
eyes and the pale lips parted to give utterance to an encourag-
ing word.

" Good Grafin, weep not. I surfer no pain ; a day or two
will suffice to bring me about, and in the meantime Yacob or
Karl will wheel my dear mistress abroad. Perchance, too, the
cries which you are uttering will hurt you, and I could not be
content that you should suffer from my heedlessness. Go back
to the Gasthof, dear dame ; bathe your tears away in the cool
spring-water, and in the love which I see daily springing in
your heart read the beginning of a holy life."

Then the gentle eyes closed again and we thought her sweet
spirit had fled ; but we were not right. As soon as she had
been laid on the bed she revived again, and, although she al-
ternated all night between death and life, the countess could
not be persuaded to leave the room for a single moment.
Once, as the girl asked for some wine, her mistress would al-
low no one to administer it but herself, and as the child sipped
it slowly from the mug, she smiled and whispered :

" Dear Grafin, does this kindness of yours not bring to mem-
ory the many, many times that I have refused to obey, and
fetch the liquor that you desired ? Ah ! good dame, in so do-
ing I was only minding the express mandate of the great doc-
tor. But that you did not like, and yet you are good enough
to bend your poor, stiff knees in reaching the wine for a worm
of the earth ! "

Tears of genuine affection fell upon the little bed, and, de-
spite the presence of strangers, the lady between her sobs told
the gentle maid how she had grown to love her for her very
insistence upon the right.

" You have taught me how true a human heart can be ;
how trusty the veriest mountain child to her ideal. ' Mary of
the Blessed Sunshine ' is a reality — I know it, I feel it. The
lesson of your life is but the outpouring of the Love Divine."
Then she knelt again on the bare, hard floor, and would not
be moved.

604

MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE.

[Aug.,

At daybreak the girl slept ; but as the sun rose high in the
heavens her blue eyes were once more opened wide, and her
soft voice begged her brothers to bear her to the shrine.

I had lingered about the Gasthof all day, for my heart was
not in my work ; but now I followed at a respectful distance
the group that solemnly climbed the mountain side. When at
last the blessed stone was reached the Grafin's hand was seen
resting on the forehead of the child, and, just as the noonday
beams fell across the shrine, the little life, that had proven of
so great value in pointing the way to heaven, suddenly and
without a quiver of the flesh, went out from earth for ever.

A couple of years ago, in the great city of Berlin, I was in-
vited to attend the opening exercises of an " Industrial Home
for Girls."

There was something familiar in the face of the lady who
entered the room upon crutches, and of whom I heard it said
that she had given the greater part of her fortune and constant
personal supervision to the great work ; but I doubt if I should
have recognized the " haughty dame of high degree " had not
my eye rested on the inscription over the entrance :

" THIS HOME is DEDICATED TO

THE HONOR AND GLORY OF
' MARY OF THE BLESSED SUNSHINE.' "

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES." 605"

'THE WAR OF THE SEXES."

BY JOHN PAUL MAcCORRIE.

kHE alarmist is again abroad. This time he is at
once exceedingly disturbed and exceedingly
amusing. He is, of course, as usual, distress-
ingly solicitous for the welfare of the common-
wealth. He will save society at any cost ; and
so, always keenly alive to its present dangers and necessities, he
feels called upon to lift a warning voice against the formidable
ebullitions of the " New Woman."

To be sure, he hastens to assure us that the threatening
cloud is as yet but very small, perhaps not larger than a man's
thumb-nail — but still unquestionably portentous of evil ; it is, in
fact, quite alarming. For all great tempests have just such begin-
nings, we are told ; and who can say what the event will be
when that little cloud grows up to be a great large thunder-
storm, and its winds have lashed the surface of society into
angry foam, while its lightnings, announcing the " supremacy of
woman," flash out all over the land?

And then, folding his arms with appropriate significance, he
sinks deep in the cushion of his chair, to watch the gathering
of the approaching storm.

This, we say, is quite amusing ; for although we are wearily
aware that a certain type of female inconsistency is determined
to be particularly petulant and unreasonable just at this time,
we do not anticipate any serious detriment to the well-being
of the republic on that account, any more than we are pre-
pared to disquiet ourselves on the prospect that the butterfly
of yesterday will one day become a great elephant and trample
us all under foot. It is not in the nature of things, so to say.
There must always be at least some adequation between a
cause and its effect, and we are not disposed to believe that
the leaders of the present " advancement " are at all representa-
tive of any considerable or important element of our com-
munity. Certain it is they are not authorized to speak in
behalf of our mothers and sisters, for we do like to think that
our mothers and sisters still retain a great deal of their native
good sense.

The chief aim of the New Woman, in so far as she can be
VOL. LXIII. — 39

606 " THE WAR OF THE SEXES." [Aug.,

accused of having any definite purpose in view, is, we believe,
the equality of sex. From certain points of observation this is
surely a laudable ambition. Before God, for example, all
rational beings are equal. There is no distinction between sex
and sex in view of unity of origin and destiny. In the par-
ticipation of eternal reward or punishment they are one.
Again, there is no intrinsic reason why the intellectual capa-
cities of woman should not equal, and in some instances even
outstrip, those of her sterner brothers ; although the distinction
is sometimes made that the one is more quick and the other
more judicious ; the former remarkable for delicacy of associa-
tion, while the latter is characterized by stronger power of
attention. And advancing still further, we would aver that
in its own proper sphere the female sex is not only equal but
often decidedly the superior of the male. But, unfortunately,
none of this forms the basis of contention. The New
Woman lays claim not only to what we have herein gladly
granted her, but, over and beyond that, she would fain step
out of the natural modesty of her sex and strive to become
man's equal in his special and peculiar province, his rival in
the struggle for what at best are but doubtful honors.

A DECLARATION OF WAR.

She tells us, " there is no intellectual, social, or professional
advancement for woman except as she asserts her independence
of man and arrays herself against him as the enemy of her
sex." That " marriage under the existing conditions is unmiti-
gated slavery." That the barriers begotten of masculine selfish-
ness and conceit, " excluding woman from the more serious
avocations of life, must be abolished."

Henceforth we must have female lawyers, surgeons, clergy-
men (clergywomen ?), apothecaries, and justices of the peace ;
and if needs be, she will "avail herself of the convenience of
male attire in order to give her greater facility in the practice
of her profession."

She will " no longer receive her religious creeds from men,
but will construct her own on a new and improved basis."

She must be actively represented in the government of the state.

In short, every right and liberty enjoyed by men, whether
political, moral or religious, must be forthwith and univocally
extended to women.*

Now that is where the New Woman becomes unpardonably

* See reports of conventions at Washington and elsewhere.

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" 607

ridiculous, for, unconsciously we trust, she launches forth her
tiny javelin at the very corner-stone of the social edifice, which
demands that for its preservation there always exist a suitable
subordination of powers, the essential principle of all right
order in heaven or on earth.

There are a great many things which we take for granted
in our daily intercourse with men and women which, while
merely implied, are fair and seemly enough ; but once expressed
by indirect hint or open avowal, assume at once an air of
marked unkindness. If a man were to address the first plain-
faced, plain-dressed young woman whom he chanced to meet,
and tell her bluntly that she was neither handsome nor rich
enough for him, and that he could never marry her, we should
wish that he were thoroughly castigated for his ill manners.
The young woman was sufficiently, perhaps painfully conscious
of the unwelcome truth already, and if she were at all a
reasonable person, she would never dream of making it the
ground of controversy or discussion. And so it is not without
much provocation — and even then we hate ourselves for doing
it — that we are constrained to remind the " new " sisterhood
that woman is not, and in the eternal fitness of things never
can be, unqualifiedly man's co-equal or superior. God himself
has said it, and for most people his word is sufficient.

But she has arguments to allege, however, why all this is
wrong, and it is really but fair that we should hear them.

THE STATUS OF WOMAN WITH THE ANCIENTS.

"If I read my history aright," she says, "it (the woman
question) did not exist in the early development of the race.
Mill to the contrary notwithstanding, we are not warranted in
supposing that the early condition of woman was one of bond-
age. In the earliest historical records we find that it was the
woman, and not the man, who was the head of the family ;
from her descent was reckoned, from her honors and inheri-
tance came. In Egypt, at the most brilliant period of its
history, woman sat upon the throne and held the office of
priestess. Colleges were founded for women, and the medical
profession belonged to them. Among the Greeks the intellec-
tual women possessed absolute freedom, and taught the wise men
of their day. The Romans made women their priestesses —
as, indeed, did all pagan nations — and their civil laws for wives
and mothers were most liberal. With the striking picture
before us which Tacitus gives of the equal privileges of the

608 " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" [Aug.,

men and women of the Germanic nations, of their mutual love
and confidence, and of the deep respect shown to the women
by the men, one can scarcely believe that the woman question
troubled that day. Biblical evidence corroborates that of. history
—it was the woman, and not the man, who first ate of the
fruit of the tree of knowledge."*

All of which we are expected to accept in proof of the
position, that in early ages the condition of -woman was more
exalted and more desirable than her position as found at the
present day.

The one and only circumstance that saves the author of
these assertions from appearing shockingly absurd is the modest
hypothesis with which she has prefaced her remarks: "if I have
read my history aright." Of course everything to the point
depends on that, and in the case at hand it happens to form
but a very slender basis indeed. When she takes issue with
Mr. Mill on the question of woman's bondage in primitive times,
our first impulse is to agree with her in her more than unequal con-
test ; but when we remember that her statements are not sustained
by the history of the nations, we are at best reduced to silence.

Her appeal to the " most brilliant period " of Egyptian
history is bold, but very reckless. She certainly cannot look to
Strabo for support, who tells us that before the Christian era
the women of Egypt were cowed laborers and tillers of the
earth. According to Grote, many of the gigantic tombs and
palaces of Egypt were reared by female slaves, " the unbounded
command of naked human strength." As to the social condi-
tion of Egypt in her "brilliancy" we can affirm nothing. It is
emphatically " the land of silence and mystery." Whatever
fragments we possess of its earlier customs and religions are
but flimsy conjectures worried from the hidden secrets of
crumbling hieroglyphics. Men of learning have spent their
lives and genius in the silent valley of the Nile striving vainly
to catch a glimpse of its mystic past ; but the sands of ages
have gathered over them, and the rigid Sphinx smiles above
their beds — stony and for ever dumb.

The writings attributed to Trismegistus and Hermes we
know to be apocryphal. Manetho is present to us in nothing
but unsatisfactory fragments. Herodotus alone remains, and
he but chronicles the dissolution of the great Egyptian power
when it paled before the ascendency of Greece and Rome. We
are but too well acquainted with his deplorable description of

* The Century Magazine.

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" 609

woman's condition in the period of which he writes. Perhaps
no one has been more sanguine in handling this question than
Professor Georg Ebers in his writings on the demotic docu-
ments of Egypt,* but even he, while asserting that Egyptian
legislation was at one period very favorable to women, in no
place declares or intimates a social or political equality of sex.

In the face of this we allow it to be quite perplexing why
our attention should be directed to an Egyptian queen as an
evidence of woman's independence. The mere fact that such a
custom has existed proves nothing of itself that could not
equally be argued from a similar condition existing in Europe
at present, when women find so much reason for complaint.

Then again, it is scarcely necessary to go back so very far
across the centuries in order to discover that colleges have
been founded for women. If they had been founded by women
for women, the reference might have had at least some signifi-
cance ; but since we, in our antagonism to woman's advance-
ment, still continue in the same commendable practice, why
speak as though the statement were no longer true?

MEDICINE OR WITCHCRAFT ?

When and where, pray, did the medical profession belong to
women ? There is absolutely nothing in the history of medi-
cine, from Celsus to Brown-S£quard, that will justify this state-
ment. There were witches from time to time in all the ages
who made use of certain drugs in connection with their supersti-
tious mummeries, which is another and quite a different thing.

Just what the writer has in mind when she speaks of the
" absolute freedom " enjoyed by females among the early Greeks
is difficult to perceive. As far back as any authentic records
can take us (776 B. c.), "the wife was purchased by her hus-
band from her parents, a custom which prevailed among the
barbarous countries of Germany.'' Her position in the family
was, it is true, one of relative dignity in view of her frightful
debauchery in succeeding epochs, but there is nothing whatever
that will justify us in pretending that she was at any time
considered man's equal.

That the Romans and other pagan nations made their wo-
men priestesses is, unfortunately, true ; but again, just why the
female sex of our enlightened generation should point to that
fact with a seeming show of pride, is quite amazing.

Strabo tells us that before the advent of Christianity there

* Deutsche Rundschau.

6 io " THE WAR OF THE SEXES." [Aug.,

was a temple to Venus at Corinth so rich that it maintained
one thousand courtesans sacred to its service. The grandest
temple of the pagan world at Hierapolis was adapted to give
an august semblance to insufferable infamy.*

Rome, Tyre, Syria, and Asia Minor had each their temples
and their "priestesses," with all the abominations which that
implied. We will not quote Baruch on the temple of Mylitta ;
nor St. Augustine on the Floral Temple of Rome ; nor Minu-
cius Felix, in his chapter beginning " Tota impudicitia vocatur
urbanitas." Suffice it to add that from the temples scattered
over all of heathendom there arose the universal sobbing and
wailing of trampled womanhood, hooted at and laughed to
scorn. " It was high time for the coming of Christianity," says
a recent apologist in this connection, " or hell ! "
1 THE TEUTONS AND THEIR WIVES.

Tacitus does give us a striking picture of the social condi-
tion in the German nations ; but there is nothing in it that will
warrant, however feebly, the interpretation which this writer
has forced upon it. It must not be forgotten that there are
special traits of these barbarous manners purposely embellished
by him, a thing quite natural in a writer of his sentiments.
He approached the subject rilled with indignation at sight of
the fearful corruptions existing at that time in Rome ; and so
we can readily observe whom he has in mind when he ironi-
cally exclaims of the German tribes, " There vice is not laughed
at, and corruption is not called the fashion " — a forcible ex-
pression which describes the age, and is the keynote to the
secret joy with which Tacitus casts in the face of Rome the
purer manners of the barbarians. When he describes the
severity of the Germans with respect to marriage, it is ob-
vious that 'their distinction between the order of superstition
and the order of the family is very clearly defined. There is
nothing left of the sanctum and providum, but only a jealous
austerity in maintaining the lines of duty; and hence we are
confronted with the spectacle of woman, instead of being rever-
enced as a goddess, surrendered to the brutal vengeance of her
husband when once suspected of being unfaithful. It would
appear that the power of man over woman was not greatly
limited by their customs when, for the offence mentioned, " after
having cut off her (his wife's) hair, the husband drives her
naked from his house in the presence of her relatives and beats
her with rods ignominiously through the village."

* Lucian de dea Syra.

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES."

The punishment gives us an idea of the infamy which was
attached to certain crimes among them, but it is not calculated
to elicit either our respect or admiration.

But probably the passage mostly in view, and we might add
most sadly misinterpreted, is where Tacitus tells us, " They go
so far as to think that there is in women something holy and
prophetical ; they do not despise their counsels, and they listen
to their predictions."

If we attend to the words of the historian we shall see that
it is far from his intention to extend his meaning here to do-
mestic manners. His words clearly refer to the superstitions
existing among them which made the people attribute to some
women the prophetic character, just as it was attributed to the
"priestess" of Ceres at Athens, or the Sibyls at Rome, or in
our own day to clairvoyants, fortune-tellers, and gypsies. Noble
appeals for our emulation, truly !

Caesar, in his " De Bello Gallico," has something to tell us of
these same Germans which Tacitus, for his purpose, conveniently
overlooked. On the whole this appeal" to heathen civilization
for a prototype of the liberties which woman should enjoy in
our own times is surely a rare expedient. If the New Woman
will read, and read aright, the ancient historians on the subject,
we fancy she will have vastly less to say about the " liberties "
and " freedom " enjoyed by her ante-Christian sisters.

DISTORTION OF THE ARGUMENT FROM SCRIPTURE.

And now we come to that rare and extraordinary specimen
of biblical exegesis with which we are so ingenuously furnished :
" It was the woman, and not the man, who first ate of the fruit
of the tree of knowledge."

Surely a little learning is very dangerous. As if the crime
of flagrant disobedience and moral infirmity to withstand temp-
tation could ever be worried into an argument for superiority
of character ! Our sad experience teaches us that Satan invari-
ably makes his onslaughts on human nature wherever he finds
it weakest, now as in the beginning.

The order of creation, we suppose, argues nothing? Nor
yet the fact that it was in Adam, and not in the woman, that
human nature fell. "As by one man," St. Paul says, "sin en-
tered into the world, and by sin, death."

But perhaps the utter absurdity of this specimen of feminine
polemic is most clearly shown by comparison, or rather contrast,
with the sound common-sense appreciation of the question as
maintained through all the ages by the Christian Church.

612 " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" Aug.,

"According to the Christian idea the husband and wife are
two in one flesh. They are united by an intimate and mutual
love in God, and should edify each other in peace, in fidelity,
and mutual support. The husband is the head of the wife, whom
he should love, esteem, and protect. The wife is, within the
circle of her duties, at the side of the man, not subject to him
as the child is subject to its father or as the slave to the mas-
ter ; but as the mother, side-by-side with the father, having, no
less than he, sacred and imprescriptible rights. But as in every
company or corporation it is necessary that some hold superior
rank and authority that order and peace may prevail, so in
that association of man and woman called marriage, in which
the parties are bound one to the other, there must be a supe-
rior while each according to rank has necessities, duties, and
rights. The woman, thus raised above that condition of abso-
lute subjection and low esteem which she occupies outside of
Christendom, takes honorable and imposing rank by the side
of her husband. Nevertheless, she is in certain respects sub-
ject to his authority. She should, according to the Christian
law, obey her husband, not as if in slavery, but freely in the
same way that the church obeys Christ, her head.

" A loving, pious, moral, interior, laborious life is the glory
of woman " (Rev. L. A. Lambert).

And the duties of the husband, on the other hand, are
admirably epitomized from St. Paul by the same writer : " ' But
yet neither i-s the man without the woman, nor the woman
without the man, in the Lord. For as the woman is of the
man, so also is the man by the woman : but all things of God '
(I.. Cor. xi. 11, 12). Again : ' Husbands, love your wives, as Christ
also loved the church, and delivered himself up for it. ...
So also ought men to love their wives as their own bodies.
He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever
hateth his own flesh, but nourisheth it and cherisheth it, as
also Christ doth the church. Because we are all members of
his body, of his flesh, and of his bones. For this cause shall
a man leave his father and mother : and shall cleave to his
wife, and they shall be two in one flesh. . . . Nevertheless,
let every one of you in particular love his wife as himself '
(Eph. v. 25-33).

These are the doctrines which have stricken the bonds
of heathen servitude from the trampled neck of woman and
raised her to that lofty eminence which she now enjoys in
the presence of the Church of Christ. The next step above
and beyond that point is social disorder pure and simple.

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES." 613

But in all this we would not wish to be misinterpreted.
We are not maintaining that the present is the best and only
condition conceivable for woman, or that there is nothing higher
and nobler than that which she has yet attained and towards
which she might profitably aspire. On the contrary, we believe
there are many incidentals in which her domestic life might be
improved and brought into fuller conformity with the Christian
ideal. But we do say that it is becoming insufferably tiresome
to have such superficial nonsense as the representative passage
herein quoted on "Woman's Rights" and "Woman's Liber-
ties " grinning inanely at us from the obtrusive type of nearly
every magazine and newspaper that comes to hand.

INDEFINITENESS OF PRESENT DEMANDS.

It makes one uncomfortably mindful of that peculiar type
of infantine anomaly that cries and cries incessantly, not
because it has suffered any injury, or because it desires any-
thing in particular, but since becoming tired of its rattle and
finding time rather burdensome, it decides that it would be
good form to have a cry, and so it sobs and screams and yells
— refusing all the while to be comforted.

For what do those women mean by "rights" and "liber-
ties " ? They have not as yet agreed among themselves, nor
have any, to our knowledge, attempted to define their limits.
The words themselves have no fixed or determined meanings,
whether we regard their etymologies or general acceptation
among mankind. We suppose there are no two of their pres-
ent advocates who would accept entirely any given definitions.
What are called rights or liberties in one age or set of circum-
stances would be called slavery in a new order of things.

And yet it must be manifestly clear to all that they are
used to no purpose whatever until we arrive at a clearly de-
fined and accurate understanding of what the terms mean.
Until then, like toy balloons in the hands of children, they
stretch until they explode into empty nothingness, or contract
into insignificance at the whim of those employing them.

Our attention, for example, has been directed to the " abso-
lute freedom " enjoyed by Greek women. Now, the very con-
cept of a social condition, however crude, implies some restraint
on individual liberty ; but this obviously can never co-exist with
an " absolute freedom." What, then, can this writer mean ?

If the expression be intended to convey a notion of total
lack of restraint either on person or action — and what else can

614 " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" [Aug.,

the words imply, twist them as we may? — it must at once be
accepted as a nonentity, for while it may be thought that such
conditions might be possible in the wilds of the savage jungles —
de facto, in the present order of creation they never can exist.
That women have "rights" quite as sacred and inalienable
as men, no one in .sound judgment will pretend to deny; but
that many of the things which are now demanded are in all
good prudence manifestly "wrongs" must be equally in evi-
dence. There are, moreover, certain things which, technically
considered, are unquestionably "rights," but which it would be
neither wise nor expedient for man or woman in the present
time and circumstances to exercise — rights the vindication of
which would adduce a positive injury to the community, as the
community is here and now maintained.

WOMAN'S TRUE DUTY AND PRIVILEGES.

We contend, and we regret not without some opposition,
that in the home and family are concentrated woman's first
and highest " rights." " Let her learn first to govern her own
house," says St. Paul ; and whatever else she may claim in
common with man must be after her duty has been fully
acquitted in this respect. For each sex, because it is a sex,
has its own specific and peculiar appointments which cannot be
delegated to the other, and which being abandoned by those
to whose care Providence has entrusted them, must remain
for ever unaccomplished.

Say what we will, woman was created to be a wife and a
mother ; that is, after a special religious calling to the service
of God, her highest destiny. To that destiny all her instincts
are fashioned and directed ; for it she has been endowed with
transcendent virtues of endurance, patience, generous sympa-
thies, and indomitable perseverance.

To her belongs the special function of moulding the youth-
ful mind, of scattering the seeds of virtue, love, reverence, and
obedience among her children, that her sons may become up-
right and loving husbands, and her daughters modest and affec-
tionate wives, tender and judicious mothers, careful and pru-
dent housekeepers. This the best of men can never do, for
the office demands the sympathetic touch with children, the
strong maternal instinct which is peculiar to the female heart.
And the instant woman neglects that duty, for the exercise of
other occupations, howsoever virtuous, in the sight of all reflect-
ing men and women she is false to the first and most sacred

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" 615

principle of her existence — her life is a shameful lie. For
women were not intended by the Creator to be men ; they are
needed not for that which men can do as well as they, but
for that which man cannot accomplish.

Given, then, the faithful performance of this the grandest
and most ennobling of woman's work, unwavering fidelity and
devotion to the home, a responsibility sacred and above all
things else, there are surely none more willing and anxious
than we to accord to her every legitimate right which is hers,
every liberty that can in any way contribute to the sum of
her personal happiness. And here we must content ourselves
with a few words on what to us seems the most timely and
important of these — woman's undeniable right to a high and
liberal education.

DANGEROUS HALF-TRUTHS.

There is nothing that requires greater care and vigilance
than some of the phrases in common circulation on this much-
discussed topic. Thus, all Noodledom delights in the say-
ings : " The true theatre for a woman is the sick-chamber."
" Nothing is so honorable to woman as not to be spoken of
at all." There is just enough veracity in such truisms to make
them dangerously misleading. For, as Sydney Smith very judi-
ciously points out, while nothing certainly is so ornamental and
delightful in woman as benevolent affections, yet all her life
cannot be filled up with high and impassioned virtues. Some
such feelings are of rare occurrence; all, thank God! of short,
duration, or the strongest natures would sink under their pres-
sure. " A sense of distress and anguish," says the same writer,
" is an occasion where the finest qualities of the female mind
may be displayed ; but it is a monstrous exaggeration to tell
women that they are born only for scenes of distress and an-
guish. Nurse father, mother, sister, brother, if they want it ; it
would be a violation of the plainest duties to neglect them.
But when we are talking of the common occupations of life,
do not let us mistake the accidents for the occupations. When
we are arguing how the twenty-three hours of the day are to
be filled up, it is idle to tell us of those feelings and agitations
above the level of common existence which may employ the
remaining hour. Compassion and every other virtue are the
great objects we all ought to have in view ; but no man (and
no woman) can fill up the twenty-four hours with acts of virtue.
But one is a lawyer, and the other a ploughman, and the third
a merchant ; and then acts of goodness and intervals of com-

6 16 " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" [Aug.,

passion and fine feeling are scattered up and down the common
occupations of life." We know women are to be compassionate,
but they cannot be compassionate from dawn to midnight ; and
what would we have them do in the meanwhile? What can
they do, indeed, if they have been brought up with nimble fin-
gers and vacant understandings ?

MISTAKEN TENDENCY OF EDUCATION.

It is to be deeply regretted that our system of female edu-
cation inclines rather to present accomplishment than to a solid
discipline and training of the mind along the more serious
avenues of thought. There is a tendency to embellish the hey-
day of youth, that of its nature needs little to enhance it, and
leaves the remainder of life without taste or relish. Music is,
indeed, a beautiful accomplishment that diffuses its charms to
others. Painting is alike generous and extends its pleasure to
many. A woman who can sing well may move and win the
hearts of many friends by the exercise of her talent ; but these
things after all constitute but a short-lived blaze which pres-
ently goes out. A woman of accomplishments may entertain
for an hour with great brilliancy ; but a woman of ideas is an
abiding source of exhilaration and joy.

It has been said that a woman must either talk wisely or
look well ; and certainly a human being, whether man or woman,
must be prepared to endure a very cold civility who has neither
the charm of youth nor the wisdom of years. No mother, no
woman, who has passed the meridian of life can hope for much
solace from mere accomplishments ; they are simply exponents
of youthful vivacity, and survive their usefulness when youth
itself has passed away.

What is really needed are resources that will endure as long
as life endures, habits of mind that will render adversity and
sickness tolerable, and solitude, if not a pleasure, at least not
unbearable ; a mental training that will ease the cares of
maternity, render age venerable, and death less terrible.

In this we would not have the lighter graces neglected, but
we would wish them subordinated to, or shall we rather say
harmonized with, a solid intellectual instruction, a moral and
religious culture. And, therefore, instead of having a woman's
understanding go out in paint, or dissolve away in musical
vibrations, it should be primarily directed to that deeper knowl-
edge that diffuses equally over a whole existence, better loved
as it is longer felt.

1896.] " THE WAR OF THE SEXES." 617

In conclusion it must be fairly confessed that women have
suffered many wrongs through the selfishness and tyranny of
men. But it must be admitted, on the other hand, that men
have borne their share of sorrow also from the follies and
caprices of women. There is much wrong on both sides, some
necessary, a great deal needless. Neither men nor women are
as good as they might or should be.

And since the present advocates of woman's rights insist
that in intellect woman is man's equal, while in will power his
superior, it is hardly fair to charge him alone with all that is
wrong or painful in her condition. Much of it, we fear, can be
traced to her own execution, and we dare to maintain that the
solution of the question is to be found, not so much in a direct
attempt at even a relative equalizing of forces as in the rever-
ence which should be borne by woman to her own sex.
TRUE GENTLEMANLINESS.

In one of the charming essays of " Elia," written by Charles
Lamb, we are presented to the author's friend and preceptor,
Joseph Paice.* Paice was acknowledged to be the finest gen-
tleman of his time. Lamb tells us he was the only pattern of
consistent gallantry he ever met with. He had not one system
of attention to females in the drawing-room, and another in the
shop or at the counter. It is not meant that he made no dis-
tinction. But he never lost sight of sex or overlooked it in the
casualties of a disadvantageous situation. He was seen on one
occasion with hat in hand smiling on a poor servant girl, while
she was inquiring the way to some street, in such a posture of
unforced civility as neither to embarrass her in the acceptance,
nor himself in the offer of it. He was never married, but in
youth he paid his addresses to the beautiful Miss Winstanley,
who, dying in the early days of their courtship, confirmed in
him the resolution of perpetual bachelorhood. It was during
their short acquaintanceship that he had been one day treating
the lady with a profusion of civil speeches — the common gallan-
tries— to which kind of thing she had hitherto manifested no re-
pugnance ; but in this instance with no effect. He could not
obtain from her any kind of acknowledgment in return. She
rather seemed to resent his compliments. And yet he could
not set it down to caprice, for the lady had always shown her-
self superior to trifling.

When he ventured the following day, finding her a little
better humored, to expostulate with her on her coldness of

* The author's language in the main is here preserved.

6i8 " THE WAR OF THE SEXES" [Aug.,

yesterday, she confessed, with her usual frankness, that she had
no sort of dislike to his attentions, that she could even endure
some high-flown compliments ; but, a little before he had en-
tered her presence, she had overheard him by accident, in rather
rough language, rating a young woman who had not brought
home his cravats quite at the appointed time, and she reasoned
this wise :

"As I am Julia Winstanley, and a young lady called beau-
tiful and known to be of fortune, I can have my choice of the
finest speeches from the lips of this very fine gentleman ; but
if I had been poor Mary So-and-So (naming the milliner), and
had failed of bringing home the cravats at the appointed hour
— though perhaps I had remained up half the night to finish
them — what sort of compliments should I have received then ?
And my woman's pride flew to my assistance ; and I thought,
that if it were only to do me honor, a female like myself might
have received handsomer usage ; and I was determined not to
accept any fine speeches to the compromise of that sex the
belonging to which was after all my strongest claim and title
to them."

It was to this seasonable rebuke that Lamb was wont to
attribute that uncommon strain of courtesy which through life
regulated the actions and 'behavior of his friend towards all
womanhood. And we can well wish, with the gifted essayist,
that the whole female world would entertain the same notion
of these things that Miss Winstanley expressed. Then, perhaps,
we should see something of the spirit of consistent gallantry,
and no longer witness the anomaly of the same man — a pattern
.of true politeness to a wife, of unwonted rudeness to a sister ;
the idolater of a female friend, the despiser of his no less fe-
male aunt, or angular — but still female — maiden cousin.

1896.] FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 619

FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.

BY W. B. McCORMICK.

ITHIN the last twenty years there has undoubt-
edly been a change in the public attitude in
America toward every form of art. The grow-
ing wealth of the country, the increase in the
class who have leisure to read, together with
the active interest taken by women in music, architecture, and
painting, have aided materially — advancing not only these, but
many other branches of art. In this general advance toward a
high rank in the world of art no department has moved for-
ward with such rapid strides as that of literature. And yet,
strange to say, it meets with but very poor encouragement from
the American public. Can we honestly reply to a question
as to our knowledge of our very recent writers and say that we
know them ? It is always and ever the same answer — a nega-
tive, which by implication admits we have lost a part of our
birthright; a negative containing in its recurring refrain the
note of a people's ingratitude.

A physician would be of little worth who, after diagnosing
an ailment, could not furnish a means of curing it. What is
our national malady? Whenever an appeal is made that
a part of our day be devoted to other than what we call
" practical " work, immediately comes the answer, " We have
no time." In describing us, Herbert Spencer changed a word
in a well-known line of Froissart's, making it read : " We take
our pleasures hurriedly." It is true. We are a busy people,
having little time for politics, literature, and art. We are mis-
governed, as a result of our indifference ; we read columns of
social and political scandal in the newspapers, while good books
stand unused on our shelves ; we take no pride in the election
of an American artist to membership in the Royal Academy ;
buildings are erected in defiance of every law of architectural
beauty ; and our streets and parks are defaced with hideous
statuary. Sitting at home in slippered ease, we cry out loudly
against these evils, yet when a demand is made for personal
activity to change all this invariably we hear the reply : " We
have no time."

620 FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. [Aug.,

The excuse is good for really busy people. It is not reason-
able to expect that, at the end of a day when brain and body
are fatigued, any man or woman should make the acquaintance
of McMaster or Justin Winsor ; Archbishop Hughes or Dr.
McCosh ; and writers like Emerson and Thoreau. Our hopes
lie "n the saving grace of the American book of travel, the
American short story, and the American novel. They must be
as primers to lead us on — to introduce us to higher flights
among our historians, theologians, and philosophers.

OUR NATIONAL PECULIARITIES.

Let us compare two books of this kind — one written by an
Englishman and one by an American. The former, standing
before a cathedral in Southern Europe, for example, would read
in his Murray all the details concerning the antiquity of the
building, its various dimensions, the names of the architects,
and the value of the stained-glass windows as specimens of
that branch of art. These figures and many others equally un-
interesting would be jotted down in a note-book to be subse-
quently strung together (a veritable skeleton of facts) and
published as a book of travels ; the only results of personal
observation it would contain being complaints over the diffi-
culty of getting something good to eat and the exorbitant
price of Bass's ale. Our compatriot, in a similar position,
realizing the all-embracing truth that "one touch of nature
makes a whole world kin," would be more likely to call his
reader's attention to the picturesque old beggar at the cathe-
dral door than to the length of the nave; some "flower in
the crannied wall " than to a rose-window ; or to the doves
circling about the lofty campanile than to the width of the
transept.

A CROWD OF AMERICAN CLASSICS.

After Washington Irving, who stands head and shoulders
above all descriptive writers of this class, Charles Dudley War-
ner may be easily ranked next. We may follow him across
the Atlantic through Europe, in his Saunterings, enjoying the
delightful quality of his humor. My Winter on the Nile and In
the Levant, from the same source, have, together with excellent
descriptions of the countries visited, that personal note which
is so eminent a part of this writer's charm. The Fennels have
journeyed much ; and through the wife's qualities as a writer
and the husband's pen-and-ink drawings we may gain many

1896.] FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 621

new insights into the character and life of town and country
abroad. It will be long before the tempest of criticism aroused
by the description of their walking-tour in Scotland, published
under the title of A Journey in the Hebrides, is forgotten either
by the reading public or by William Black. William Winter's
books are surely American classics. One has lost much (who
has failed to read his Shakspeare's England, Gray Days and Gold,
and Old Shrines and Ivy, in the latter of which he takes us not
only through England but also to Scotland and France. Stod-
dard's Red-Letter Days Abroad and Aldrich's From Ponkapog to
Pesth are books that may be read repeatedly with much enjoy-
ment. Howells's Italian Journeys and Venetian Life ; Hopkinson
Smith's Well-Worn Roads and White Umbrella in Mexico — repre-
sentative of the foreign aspect from an artist's point of view —
are a few books that any of us should be ashamed to confess
we had not read. Stoddard's Spanish Cities, The Spanish Vistas
of George Parsons Lathrop, and a collection of essays on An-
dalusian life and customs by John Hay, called Castilian Days,
are also admirable descriptive works.

CHANGING FASHIONS IN LITERATURE.

Some one has found in our preference for comedy over our
fathers' love of tragedy a reason to believe we are a sadder if
not a wiser generation than they. Nothing reflects this taste
more clearly than the modern short story. Whether it be a
volume of French or English tales, or a collection such as
Sullivan's Day and Night Stories or Stimson's Sentimental Calen-
dar, the effect is likely to be the same. Whatever may be said
of our other forms of literature, no one disputes for a moment
the superiority of the American short story. Formerly we
looked to France for these. Our numerous magazines have
produced a corps of writers of this class that no country can
equal.

Since, in his " Roundabout Papers," Thackeray wrote of a
certain Lazy, Idle Boy, praising novels in his kindly fashion,
we hear few such diatribes against this form of reading as we
were formerly compelled to listen to. The eminent astronomer,
Sir John Herschel, regarded them as one of the greatest en-
gines of modern civilization ; and undoubtedly, if we are to
class such books as Mrs. Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, Bellamy's
Looking Backward, or Walter Besant's All Sorts and Conditions
of Men as novels, we may clearly see how in an agree-
able fashion a great ethical force may be exerted among

TOL. LXIII. — 40

622 FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. [Aug.,

a class to whom a series of lectures neither appeals nor
reaches.

Of novels written by Americans describing life abroad I must
omit describing such books as B. W. Howard's Guenn, or Arthur
Sherburne Hardy's But Yet a Woman, and confine myself to
alluding to one man who has written stories wherein the scenes
are laid in almost every country in Europe, in India and Ara-
bia— Francis Marion Crawford. Above all things this author
has the faculty of filling his books with what we call local
color.

SOUTH AND WEST COMING TO THE FRONT.

From North, South, East, and West now come a troop of
writers who are making the history of American literature,
giving us either in the short story or the novel phases of life
and delineations of character — a very flood of books and read-
ing. Let us in the pages of these books, beginning in the
Ohio Valley, travel through our country, needing neither dark-
ened room, nor stereoscopic views, nor lecturer's wand. Of the
Blue Grass State we have James Lane Allen's Kentucky Stories
and With Flute and Violin; Edward Eggleston's Roxy and The
Circuit Rider ; touch the land of the Buckeyes, and the dialect
poet, Miss Woolson, in Castle Nowhere has given us a few
more descriptions of this section, and of the country of the
Great Lakes northward from Detroit — a section in which she
has laid the opening scene of her novel Anne, and where the
action of the greater part of Jupiter Lights also takes place. The
Great West may be taken in bulk. Of life as it was in the
days of the stage-coach and the " forty-niner " Mark Twain's
Roughing It and Bret Harte's earlier stories are eminently capable
of giving us views of the interior. The latter has not over-
looked the San Francisco of the past and present, and for
Lower California, together with Harte's Crusade of the Excel-
sior we have that marine classic, Richard Henry Dana's Two
Years before the Mast. Of the West of our day — the country
of the " Oklahoma boomers," Indian agents, and hot springs —
nothing gives us a better idea than what Richard Harding Davis
saw of it From a Car Window. One who has never been in
Texas may get an excellent impression of the country in the
little-known sketches of Howard Seely called A Lone Star Bo-
Peep. Of New Orleans and the country adjacent to the mouth
of the Mississippi George W. Cable, in his Creole Days and
Dr. Sevier, has given us glimpses of a people who find in him

1896.] • FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 623

their only fitting historian. Grace King, Rebecca Harding Davis,
and Lafcadio Hearn are among the writers the scenes of whose
short stories are laid in various parts of the South, and who
are representative of the awakening of that section to a new
interest in literature. Of the peninsula of Florida and the At-
lantic coast as far north as Charleston we have the short stories
and two novels of the late Constance Fenimore Woolson. In
East Angels, as in Rodman the Keeper and Horace Chase, is that
note of renunciation so notable a characteristic of not only
these stories, but of the many published in the magazine where-
in the scenes are laid abroad. We have in the works of Charles
Egbert Craddock portrayals of character in the mountain regions
of the Carolinas and Tennessee, and word-pictures of the scen-
ery of that country that have no equals in our language. In
our admiration for Dickens's characters we are apt to over-
look his rank as a painter in words. But even his descriptions
pale beside Miss Murfree's images in The Prophet of the Great
Smoky Mountain and In the Stranger People's Country, of a coun-
try through which Warner rode on horseback.

Joel Chandler Harris tells us of Ole Virginia ; Mrs. Burnett
describes Washington life in Through One Administration; and
the country between that city and New York has of a surety
not been neglected. Above all, Charles Dudley Warner's A
Journey in the Little World is a picture of modern life in New
York that stands unrivalled.

It would be easy to go on enumerating other good writers
in the same field, but many of these are so well known that it
is superfluous to include them.

NO RELISH FOR BOHEMIANISM.

Our nation is largely composed of natives, or descendants of
natives, of many lands. But the leaven of simplicity and re-
spectability, always so pronounced in the biographies of those
who made our history — this leaven even yet leaveneth the
whole mass, and the American people insist upon this : that
these two characteristics must be very prominent in the nature
of any man who wishes to gain a place in the country's estima-
tion. It is a pleasure to dwell on the fact of our having so
few examples of Bohemianism among our literary men. Their
jaunts into that delightful country have been of the briefest
duration, and most often when their salad days were very green
indeed. I can think of but two writers whose erratic footsteps
led them through the pleasant paths of Bohemia into the valley

624 FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. . [Aug.,

of the shadow beyond, and these are Edgar Allan Poe and
Nathaniel Parker Willis. The Puritan spirit is a notable part
of the make-up of our writers, and though lack of recognition
seems one of the penalties of authorship, our literary men
appear to have suffered less in this respect than those of other
nations. Most of them have won honors from other sources,
either as representatives to foreign courts, as in the case of
Washington Irving and John Hay to Spain ; Motley and Lowell
to St. James ; Alden to Rome ; and Lew Wallace to Turkey ;
as painters, in the case of William Hamilton Gibson and C. P.
Cranch ; or those two remarkable end-of-the-century men, the
banker-poet, E. C. Stedman, and the engineer-painter-novelist,
F. Hopkinson Smith.

AMERICANS A RELIGIOUS PEOPLE.

Stevenson makes one of his characters say, " A dinner differs
from life inasmuch as the sweets come at the end." This plea
endeavors to resemble a dinner in keeping the best of it for a
final appeal. And by this I mean the attitude of our writers,
not only to religion in general but more particularly to our
faith — the faith of the Roman Catholic Church. It is a phase
I love to dwell upon, for in our devotion to European litera-
ture we have found many things — chance words and phrases — to
alarm and disquiet us. Outwardly, religion is a prominent
feature in English life and on the Continent. But in the hearts
of the people dwells no such reverence as we in America have
for the church and the clergy. In a novel of that hysterical
writer, Marie Corelli, there is a line that reads : " An honest
priest ; fancy an honest priest ! " It is not too bold a statement
to say this represents the European attitude. To Ibsen clergy-
men are nothing higher than exponents of conventional moral-
ity ; Thackeray gives us side by side, in Henry Esmond, Father
Holt and the Rev. Thomas Tusher — two characters in which
we can find little to admire ; and in The Newcomes the Rev.
Edward Honeyman is another pen-picture of a minister calcu-
lated to antagonize us toward church and churchman. In his
masterful Alton Locke Kingsley says: "The private soldier,
the man-servant, and the Jesuit are three forms of mental
suicide I cannot understand." In America the private soldier
and the man-servant are not so common as abroad, and bear an
inconsequential part in our social system ; but no matter what
his religion, the American regards the Jesuit father as one of
the highest types of citizens. And well he may, for in the

1896.] FIFTY YEARS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 625

history of our country they occupy a place in which no other
class of men can furnish a parallel.

The spirit of the cross has stolen into the heart of our
literature, ennobling and beautifying it in the sight of God and
man. If one reads the coarse production attributed to Swift,
Pat and the Pope, and then contrasts this with the refinement of
Thomas Bailey Aldrich's A Visit to a Certain Old Gentleman, it
will be hardly necessary to give additional illustrations. Bret
Harte's priests are lovable characters ; Warner speaks affection-
ately of the Catholic monks in his In the Levant ; Bunner in The
Midge gives a brief but admirable description of the type of
priest dwellers in large cities know and revere ; and in the whole
range of our literature the same spirit of tolerance and fairness
is shown that should make us love to turn its pages.

OLD LITERATURE AND YOUNG.

Of "the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was
Rome " the most lasting monuments are their architecture and
literature. The literatures of these two countries must neces-
sarily rank first, and undoubtedly are of the highest importance
for this reason. To travel to Rome and the Hellenic shore
is only the privilege of the few, and no illustrations or repro-
ductions can adequately represent the ruined Colosseum of the
Eternal City or the beauty of the Acropolis on the Athenian
hills ; whereas for an inconsiderable sum one may purchase a
copy of Caesar or Plato, and instantly " out of my country and
myself I go " to the birth-place of the arts of the Western
world. Although these men will be immortal, doubtless in
their time those who loved and read them were but few. It
must be a comforting thought to that faithful band of followers,
in the shades, to know that two thousand years after their time
the Antigone of Sophocles still has the power to move men's
hearts and the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius no less now
than then holds its empire in men's minds. It is so very young
this literature of ours — for it is scarcely fifty years since
Washington Irving won the title of the Father of it — yet it
contains much to be admired.

626 PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL. [Aug.,

PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL.

BY CHARLOTTE H. COURSEN.

" Far from the world and its commotion
The spirit flies, for deep devotion.

To upland forests, still and fair,
Not lured by mystic beauty only :
Soul's peace is in the forest lonely,

For God seems nearer to us there."

'HE Tyrol abounds in romantic old shrines
frequented by multitudes of pilgrims. It is not
in guide-books that we must look for their true
characteristics. These are shown in the native
literature ; sketches by Ignaz V. Zingerle, Hein-
rich No£, and others ; and religious works such as that exquis-
ite little book, Stilleben im Herzen Jesu, by Franz Hattler.
Friedrich Leutner speaks of an old book, now quite out of date
— a woodland prayer-book named Silva Gratiarum, and intended
for use in the various pilgrimage churches.

Some of the churches are on sites so ancient that Etruscan
votive offerings have been unearthed there, antedating by no
one knows how many centuries the Christian votive offerings
which have hung for ages in the buildings above their resting
place.

We can for the present select only a very few from the
many points of interest. Of them all one of the most note-
worthy is the ancient chapel-monastery of St. Romedius, in the
Nous Valley, South Tyrol. It is situated on an eminence in a
wild rocky gorge, and is especially interesting to art students
as combining all the various styles of Christian architecture
which have been in vogue since the beginning of the fifth
century.

CALVARIENBERG.

But we will limit ourselves to several pilgrimage churches in
North Tyrol, not very far from Innsbruck, and lying along the
Inn Valley. And first of all we will choose one of extremely
modest dimensions and fame, because it is accessible to almost
every one, and at the same time offers perfect solitude, with
grand beauty and natural contrast of scenery. Zirl is a
picturesque village on the Arlberg Railway, about nine miles
west of Innsbruck. Just north of the village there nestles

1896.] PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL. 627

against the gray, frowning Solstein a green hill, Calvarienberg,
crowned with a pretty little church painted in bright colors.
The road winds up to it by an easy ascent, and is marked by
little chapel stations. As we mount, the broad, level valley

ZIRL— FRAGENSTEIN CASTLE.

opens out more fully to our gaze, and the air freshens, while
a feeling of deep peace comes over us. We pause on the
breezy hillside at one of the pink chapels, painted blue within,
and we read, amid the solemn stillness :

" Even Thou didst know the pain of parting,"
or :

" If but this cup might pass from me ! "

The gaily-colored little church rests on the bright green
grass spangled, when we saw it, with smiling alpine flowers.
The green valley, with its undulating ring of mountains, lies
spread out below, while just behind the church the bare lime-
stone rocks tower thousands of feet above us, and at our very
feet there yawns a barren, cruel chasm, the Zirl Gorge.

OUR LADY OF THE LARCHES.

The Bavarian Alps extending eastward from Innsbruck
shelter at one point what might be called a pilgrimage forest,
the Guadenwald (Forest of Grace), accessible by carriage from
the town of Hall, which is on the Brenner Railway about six
and a half miles east of Innsbruck. The designation "of

628

PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL.

[Aug.,

Grace " has not a religious significance, as we might suppose,
but is a relic of feudal service. For two or three hours we
drove through fragrant woods and past luxuriant green uplands
which stretch just below the rocky summits of the gray
Bavarian Alps. These peaks are broken into clear-cut, sinuous
lines looking like a stupendous cockscomb — or Kamm, as it is
called — and forming a severe background to the superb vistas
that open out from time to time, or the wide-spread views of
the Inn Valley and the southern range of mountains. Our
chief goal was the chapel or tiny Church of Our Dear Lady of
the Larches. Having obtained the necessary key, a huge one,
at the mountain village of Lerfens, we drove on expectantly
and found this Church of the Larches in a most lovely spot,
half encircled by larch-trees, against a dense background of
mountain and forest. We felt shut out from all the confusion
of earth, and yet, as we leaned on the low wall of the en-
closure, we looked out over sunny meadows which lifted our
thoughts from the sombre shade. Two pilgrims entered just as
we approached, so we did not need our key. They became

CHURCH OF OUR LADY OF THE LARCHES, GUADENWALD.

immediately absorbed in prayer, and there was no sound to
break the stillness.

A HOME OF PATRIOTISM AND PIETY.

Passing onward we had a grand view across the valley
where the pilgrimage Church of Judenstein stands out in bold

1896.] PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL. 629

relief on the mountain side. Our next stopping-place was
the tiny village of St. Martin, where the church from which
it is named stands on a grassy, shaded hill ; brilliant white,
with red Oriental tower, against a background of gray moun-
tain peaks. An Augustinian convent (suppressed by Joseph
II.) was connected with this church in the year 1500. Many
visitors will, doubtless, share the pleasant surprise felt by us
on finding this bright interior adorned with delicate frescoes,
painted in the palmy days of the convent by a priest of noble
birth. Not far from here is the old home of Joseph Spech-
bacher, the famous comrade-in-arms of Andreas Hofer. A
full-length portrait of the hero adorns the facade of the house.
Some more pretty woodland churches we passed, and in the
little village of St. Michael we alighted and tried to open the
church door, but it was locked. Every grave in the church-
yard was covered with sweet pinks blooming among the
old iron crosses and quaint decorations. The churchyard
wall bordered directly upon smiling fields where women
were at work. By the way, a favorite saint on these hills, and
one often depicted at the roadside shrines, is Nothburga, the
peasant girl, a patron saint of manual labor.

THE BIRTHPLACE OF THE HAPSBURGS.

A spot even more attractive is that where stands the won-
derful woodland Church of St. George. Not far from Schwatz,
an old town near the Brenner Railway, and about twenty miles
north-east of Innsbruck, a road leads up to Castle Tratzberg,
which stands on a spur of the Bavarian Alps, in full view from
the valley below. This castle is in itself worth a visit for the
sake of its wood-work, and its unique Hapsburg Room, the
walls of which are covered with bright frescoes of this illustrious
family — figures about a foot high, enclosed in small groups by
graceful scroll-work. Hundreds of feet above the castle, and al-
most hidden in its mountain nest, stands the Church of St. George,
to which there is only a foot-path. We mounted by this easy
ascent for two hours through a balmy forest, reaching at last
the religious stations which mark the near approach to the final
destination, and suddenly, through an opening in the forest,
there burst upon our sight the imposing white structure with
Romanesque tower and red roof, perched, amid surrounding
mountain tops, on a precipitous rock, Georgenberg, about three
hundred and fifty feet in height. To reach it we crossed a
great ravine over which runs a roofed wooden bridge one hun-

630

PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL,

[Aug.,

dred and sixty feet long, built upon massive supports of wood
and iron. The impression on arriving at St. Georgenberg is one
of intense solemnity and grandeur. The outside world has
ceased to exist. We realize how some German poet could sing :

" I only know that earth's confusion

Since then is like a vanished dream,
And holy, happy thoughts unspoken
Enshrined within my spirit seem."

Peeping out from a wooded hill just above the Church of
St. George stands the older and smaller Church of Our Dear
Lady under the Linden, and still further up, in the mountain

ST. GEORGENBERG.

side, yawns the cavern where dwelt St. Rathold, who founded
this community in the ninth century.

The feeling of awful solitude is softened by contact with
the few people who live or tarry here. Some very sweet-
looking women bowed to us as they sat on a bench by the
courtyard wall embroidering and looking out over the everlast-
ing hills. They had come here for repose of mind or body, or
perhaps to accomplish some religious vow.

Food and shelter are provided for pilgrims in the "guest-
house " adjoining the church. Here, in a small dining-room

1896.]

PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL.

631

adorned with old engravings and paintings, we were served
with a hearty repast of soup, meat, and wine, which refreshed
us while we gazed, spell-bound, at the scene without.

The interior of the church is handsomely decorated by
artists of the present century. As we entered some pilgrims
were engaged in a responsive prayer, and an old countess had
lighted two long tapers at a side altar, intending to pray until
they had burned out.

A DELIGHTFUL LEGEND.

The disciples of St. Rathold built upon this same rock a
Benedictine monastery. Originally they wished to build it in
the valley below, but the legend relates that a spell was cast

IGLS, NEAR INNSBRUCK.

over its construction there. The workmen employed were con-
stantly wounded by their tools, and at last it was observed
that the blood-stained shavings were carried away by white
doves. The doves were followed, and lo ! upon the great rock
of St. George the plan of nave and choir, of cells and refec-
torium, had been traced with these very shavings. The action
thus indicated was adopted, and in this way arose the Church
of Our Dear Lady under the Linden.

In Karl Domanig's poetical drama, " The Abbot of Viecht,"
the prior — who tells this story — gives it a beautiful application
by saying :

632 PILGRIMAGE CHURCHES IN THE TYROL. [Aug.

" From this, my brethren, comes the moral : if
The good Lord visit us with pain or sorrow,
Let us accept the lesson and — build higher"

It seems to have been destined, however, that the monas-
tery should prosper in the valley after all ; for in 1705 both
church and monastery were burned for the fourth time. The
Church under the Linden was rebuilt as it now stands, and in
1736 the larger church, that of St. George, was erected; but
the monastery was rebuilt in the valley, near Schwatz, where
it was long known as the Benedictine Monastery of Viecht,
before it was secularized and put to its present use of a
school.

• Much nearer Innsbruck is the pilgrimage Church of Heilig
Wasser, a small white building with red cupola, which can be
seen from the valley, resting two thousand feet above, against
a forest background, on the southern foot-hills. Here also is a
comfortable " guest-house " where pilgrims may find shelter for
days or hours, as the case may be. Heilig Wasser is reached
in an hour by a beautiful woodland path leading from Igls,
which is a mountain resort gloriously situated within about
two hours' drive from Innsbruck.

No one can fail to carry away from such wanderings as
these a feeling of contentment which endures. Often, when
we are worn with the turmoil of the world, our thoughts
revert to them again, and we feel the satisfaction of knowing
what rest and peace really are, and where they may be found,
together with renewed mental and moral strength which stimu-
lates us to fresh action in the busy world.

BEAT1 MISERICORDES.

BY FRANCIS W. GREY.

WH(? showeth mercy, mercy shall he gain
Perfect and plenteous in his time of need ;
He that hath pity shall be blest indeed,
And from the Fount of Pity shall obtain
Endless compassion : surely not in vain
The poor forgiveness He hath made the meed
Whereby He shall forgive us, when we plead
To Him for pardon. In thine hour of pain
The mercy thou hast given He will give
In fullest measure, mercy all His own ;
And He, the Lord of Love, in Whom we live,
To Whom belongeth mercy, Who alone
Hath pardon as His sole prerogative,
Shall show to thee the mercy thou hast shown.

634 WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. [Aug.,

WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN.

BY DOROTHY GRESHAM.

•WO letters lie before me demanding an immedi-
ate answer. I have taken a week to make up
my mind as to what I shall say, and now there
is only one hour before the post goes out and
I must decide to-day. One letter is from a
dear aunt who wants me to spend the winter with her at the
Ponce de Leon, St. Augustine. The attraction is great ; this
wonderful Moorish hotel, its exquisite halls and stairways, and
Florida, with its flowers and sunshine, are irresistible. I feel I
must go. Then, on the other hand, here is the second epistle
tantalizingly enchanting. Nell, my cousin, my life-long friend,
a bride of a year, calls me across the water to see her in her
old house among the mountains, on the green shores of Erin.
How I wish I could be Boyle Roche's bird, and be in both
places at the same time ! I think, and think ; time goes, and
at last I begin to write. St. Augustine is fair ; but Ireland, its
tales and histories, Lever and Lover, whom I have read and
laughed over, come up before me ; Nell's blue, wistful eyes
beckon me to her clearer still ; and I finish my notes. Aunt
Charlotte's is four pages, loving, apologetic, refusing; Nell's a
few lines: "I shall leave for Dungar next week; expect a
wire from Queenstown." I take them to my mother ; she has
left the decision to myself, and now she approves. The letters
are posted and I go on my way rejoicing and preparing.

It seems but a day later when they all see me on board a
Cunard steamer. Father has some friends going to the Riviera
for the winter, and they take me in charge. It is my first trip
on the ocean, and for a girl but six months from the school-
room it is perfect bliss. How I enjoy everything ! and it seems
no time before the spires of Queenstown Cathedral, far up on
the hill; loom above the water.

It is in the early September morning, and my heart goes
upwards with a glad cry, for I am in a Catholic country. The
cross is the first view I had of " Faithful Ireland " ; it shines
out over the harbor gloriously suggestive of the trials and vic-
tories of those brave children of St. Patrick. The bay is full of
life ruddy with the morning sun, the houses rise tier upon tier,
crowned far above by the cathedral towers. I am put off on

1896.] WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. 635

the tender and find myself on Irish soil; soft and mellifluous
fall on my ear that never-to-be-forgotten brogue. Every one
looks so bright and friendly that I feel as if I knew them all.
We take the boat for Cork, and the trip up the Lee is charm-
ing. It is one uninterrupted scene of natural beauties ; fine
woods in their autumn tints grow down to the water's side.
Slowly we steal into the " beautiful citie," with its bells of
Shandon and its historic landmarks. Very handsome it looks
running up the sides of a great hill backed by luxuriant woods.

We leave it behind and come on Blarney Castle, standing
in the midst of an open field ; a little chattering brook wan-
ders at its base and some cows stand idly beneath its walls.

This is all I see as the train tears past on our way to Ire-
land's premier county, golden-veined Tipperary. Through the
long day we flash past streams, woods, castle, tower, and man-
sion. It is like one verdant garden, such green fields as my
eyes have never feasted on before. Our bleak American
fences are here replaced by picturesque stone walls covered by
moss with firs or bushes growing on the top. I never tire of
looking, it is all so new and lovely. We have a short stay
at Limerick, the city of the " broken treaty," and I think
of "the women who fought before the men," and "the men
who were a match for ten," and of brave, noble Sarsfield.

The sun is preparing for slumber, and I begin to think of
Nell awaiting me at the end of the journey, and how she will
look. The hour of our meeting is at hand, and after some
panting and wobbling over a rough, hilly road, the train pulls
up slowly and I jump out. It is a little wayside station, clean
and fresh ; a pretty garden a mass of bloom, and walls smoth-
ered in rollicking scarlet runners, are the first things I see.
The porter comes and tugs out my trunks. I look around in
vain for Nell ; it is growing dark and I get a little anxious.
The porter asks if I do not expect some one, and I reply by
inquiring if the Dungar carriage is not waiting. He goes to
see, but returns with a disappointing negative. J am like Imo-
gen, " past hope and in despair," and the good-natured fellow
brings me to the station-master and we hold a council of war.

In the office, sending off some flowers, is a lady, bright,
winsome, matronly. She hears our discussion and that I tele-
graphed Mrs. Fortescue I would arrive by this train. Then I
learn, to my dismay, my wire came but a short time before my-
self, and that the messenger has just started on his seven miles
to Dungar. If my expressive countenance shows all that I
feel, I must look very mournful, for as I raise my eyes from

636 WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. [Aug.,

solving problems on the floor they fall on a sweet, womanly
face smiling kindly at me. A figure advances, a soft hand is
laid on my shoulder, gray eyes look pleasantly into my trou-
bled ones, and a rich, musical voice says : " You cannot be
Dorothy, whom we are all expecting from New York ? Mrs.
Fortescue came over with the news yesterday that you had
consented to come." My face changes like a flash from grave
to gay, a light breaks through the darkness. " You will come
with me to Dungar, dear ; I pass the gates and we can start
at once." The station-master looks almost as pleased as I, and
we go out to the road, where a handsome pony and phaeton
stand awaiting us. An old coachman puts us in with the great-
est care — he mounts the box, and we are off.

The stars came out brightly ; my old friend, Orion, looks
down as familiarly as when last I saw him off Sandy Hook.
We chatter away as if we had known each other for years. To
think of meeting " Aunt Eva " the first seems like my usual
good fortune. Mrs. Desmond is Nell's neighbor, and now her
almost mother. She is the kindest, dearest, wittiest woman in
the world. She took Nell under her protection when she came
to Dungar a bride, a stranger in a strange country, smoothed
difficulties, cheered and helped in moments of trial ; and warm-
hearted Nell gave back all her loyal, devoted affection in re-
turn. Mrs. Desmond has no children of her own, but her large
sympathies and heart are open to other people's; she has nu-
merous nieces and nephews, and, indeed, she is "Aunt Eva" to
every who knows her — for to know her is to love her. Through
Nell's letters Aunt Eva and I have sent many messages across
the Atlantic. Nell thought we were so congenial, and we cer-
tainly are beginning splendidly.

How I talk ! and more, how I laugh ! She tells me many
funny stories about her people, but warns me I must prepare to
have my Lever and Lover ideas vanish like smoke. Ireland is
not at all what novels and the stage show it ; and from my pre-
conceived notions, learned from such sources, she is glad that
I see the Emerald Isle as it really is. We drive past thatched
cottages, the open doors showing the pleasant turf fires burning
on the wide hearths. It is my first sight of what I always
wanted to see, and I ask Aunt Eva a whole string of questions
about it. She promises to bring me to a bog as soon as I care
during the week, and I am satisfied.

The moon shines out a brilliant welcome as we turn in the
lodge gates and trot up the great lime avenue. We climb a
hill and far above I see the lights from the grand old house.

1896.] WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. 637

The pony comes to a stand before the deep stone steps and
the door is flung wide open. I catch a glimpse of an immense
hall, antlers, a winding handsome stairway, and the next mo-
ment I stand beneath Nell's roof-tree. Evidently my telegram
has not come — no one expects me. The servant greets Aunt
Eva as if she were glad to see her, and is bringing her to Nell,
when I hear her voice in the distance, and the well-known step
comes joyously as in the old days to me. I glide into a deep
recess, give Aunt Eva, whose eyes are brimming with mischief,
a warning look, and await the denouement. Nell comes, lovely and
radiant as ever; she is dressed for dinner, and all my old pride
and affection for my Nell is intensified as I see her greet my
new-found friend as she would mother. She puts her arm
through hers to lead her away as she says : " I heard the pony,
and I knew you were coming, and, fearing you would not stay,
I ran down to catch you. Has Kathleen come?" "No," is the
answer ; " but," smiling quizzically, " some one else has, that I
fear will be a worry and distraction to us all ; you would never
guess who." Nell looks surprised, and her face grows a tiny
bit long. " Some one whom we shall all be at a loss to know
what to do with," goes on Aunt Eva, now waxing solemn ;
" who says dreadful things, and thinks worse of us. In fact —
Nell looks puzzled, Aunt Eva woe-begone, when she looks round
cautiously and breaks off abruptly, seeing my irate countenance.
She cannot keep serious any longer, so ends with " Come and
let me introduce you." I dash out with " Nell ! Nell ! here I
am. You will know what to do with me." She does ; she
stands astonished, then opens wide her arms and gives me a
welcome worth coming across the Atlantic to get. We meet
as we parted : loyal and loving.

It is a whole week later, and I have learned many things
meanwhile, even if two of the seven days are spent in bed. I
have written home reams and quires of all my adventures and
impressions. Irish country life, with Nell, her handsome, buoy-
ant, clever Kevin, old family retainers, picturesque mediaeval
Dungar is already dear to my soul. I have been out all the
morning on the hills, holding animated conversations with every
man, woman, and child I meet, and lose my heart to every
urchin on the way. Where do those little Irish lads and lassies
get their laughing eyes and bonnie blushes ?

It is now four o'clock and Nell and I are having one of our

never-ending chats ; she is laughing gayly in her old way over

some of my experiences of the morning when Aunt Eva comes

driving up to the open window. She and Nell are going to

YOL. LXIII. — 41

638 WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. [Aug.,

see some mutual friends, and I am to be introduced to a bog
on the way if, Aunt Eva adds, I promise to be a good girl.
I do solemnly, and Nell takes the ribbons and we start.

After an hour's drive down the hills we come on a wide,
level expanse, somewhat like a prairie, lying on either side of
the narrow, white country road. This is the bog ! The monot-
ony is broken by a fringe of heather and pines, which seem to
flourish in the vicinity. I am disappointed, and cannot believe
that this dreary, bleak outlook is the delightful turf-fire in em-
bryo. I ask Aunt Eva how the development is accomplished.
She smiles at my first illusion dispelled as she tells me how :

" Late in the spring, or early in the summer, the bogs be-
come quite lively ; the men arrive to cut the brown, yielding
soil in immense blocks three or four feet deep. This is called
' cutting the turf.' Later on the women and boys arrive on
the scene, adding life and brightness to the work for ' footing
the turf.' The blocks are spread out and trodden under foot
to harden them before cutting into the prescribed shapes,
namely, about the size and form of bricks. The turf, if good,
is very hard and black ; if of inferior kind, loose, light brown,
and spongy. It is then piled up on the bog in small heaps or
'clamps ' and left for weeks to dry before fit for the fire. Should
the weather be fine the work on the bog is pleasant and
healthy, but unfortunately Ireland, like all beauties, is fond of
pouting, and she weeps so often that her sons and daughters
are fain to be ever in smiles and laughter as an offset to her
tears. Rain or shine, the fun and jokes echo across the bog,
for what deluge could drown Irish spirits, especially of the
poor ? "

Aunt Eva adds pathetically : " Merrily the footing goes
through the day ; old and young are one in heart — for the gay
heart is always young. Should any one have crotchets, or be
what you Americans call a crank, woe betide him on a bog !
The Crimean veteran, with marvellous tales of his prowess at
Alma and Inkerman, comes in for a fair share of the raillery."

We are passing the gate leading to the bog now ; the people
are at work, and I gaze so wistfully at them that Aunt Eva
proposes I should run in and look at the "clamps." Nell pulls
up and laughingly gives us five minutes. I am delighted, and
walk over the brown, springy soil to receive a warm welcome
from the workers. They all know Aunt Eva, and when she
tells them I am all the way from New York and want to see
the turf, they are very much interested. To them New York
is but another Ireland, and they look on me as coming from

1896.] WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. 639

their kith and kin, and tears start to their eyes thinking of their
hearts' treasures far over the water. I shake hands with them
all, and take them to my heart as their kindly " God bless
you, miss ! " and " May the Lord spare you long among us ! "
welcome me in their midst. Old Corporal Casey presents me
with a sod of turf to see what it is like. I take it gratefully,
and — well it is to-day one of my most treasured relics of the
Emerald Isle. It is nice to be loved by the poor, and if any-
one is so blest it is Aunt Eva ; they gather round her with
almost reverence. Even in the few moments we are on the
bog she has time to say kind things to every one. A question
about the sick, a smile, a word of praise or encouragement, and
we are away, leaving sunshine and happiness as a souvenir of
her visit. The colored shawls, bright 'kerchiefs, short skirts of
the women, their blue eyes and dark hair; but above all, their
soft, sweet, delicious brogue, never more beguiling than when
teasing, are my cherished memories of an Irish bog.

It is now time to stop work, and horse, mule, and donkey,
which have been tethered to their carts on the roadside, are
brought into requisition, and in loaded cars the workers go
homewards. Songs enliven the journey, and they come into the
village greeted with cheery " Good evenin', boys ! Good evenin',
girls!" "God bless ye all!" from the neighbors as they pass.
Meanwhile we have driven on our way, and we part on the
village street ; Nell and Aunt Eva are to call at Shanbally
and Killester, while I beg to be let go for the letters and
prowl around in search of adventures.

They let me off, and we agree to meet later on at the
chapel. I am coming out of the post-office when I come on a
scene that I shall never forget. An old fiddler has strolled
into the village and is playing from house to house. The
music is remarkably good, and he is in the middle of the
Coolin when the workers get in from the bog and join the
crowd around him. The old man knows what will please them,
and without a moment's pause he strikes up " Charming Judy
Callaghan." It is soul-stirring! The men become excited and
keep time with their feet to the music. One woman with her
turf-basket across her shoulder is a study, her bright eyes
dancing in unison to the tune. It is Mary Shea, a poor, hard-
working widow, with six small children to support. The old
air seems to bring back her happy girlhood, with its life and
joy. A voice cries out " Arrah, girls, are ye goin' to let that
fine music go for nothin'?" The crowd with one accord call
for Mary Shea, the " best dancer in the parish." Back hangs

640 WHERE THE TURF FIRES BURN. [Aug.

Mary, fearing she will be seen. Faster and faster goes " Charm-
ing Judy"; the- voice rings out again, "Where is Mary Shea?
She must give us a few steps." A break in the crowd reveals
poor Mary, and she is captured and on the " floor." In a
second the crowd move back, eager, expectant ; Mary looks
imploringly at her friend Kitty Tyrrell, and she comes to the
rescue. The women meet in the middle of the road, their
baskets thrown aside, and the dance begins. With joined hands
they advance up the middle, then back and take their places,
vis-a-vis; retreating, backing, swaying light and graceful, the
steps fall on the hard road, not a note lost, not a bar omitted ;
note and step fall on the ear simultaneously. Nothing could
be more beautiful, modest, womanly, than that Irish jig in the
village street. There is a buoyancy, joyousness in it that no
one but an Irishwoman up at daybreak, working in a bog all
day, living on potatoes and milk, and sleeping on a straw bed
at night, could put into her feet ; and oh ! what tired ones
they must often be. " Musha, more power to ye, girls!"
" May the Lord spare ye the health ! " " God bless you, Mary! "
broke from the audience as the dancers joined hands again and
made their bow to each other, still on time to the last bars of
inspiring "Charming Judy Callaghan." . .

The great day has come for the " drawing home the turf."
One farmer names his day, and each neighbor sends a horse
and man to help. From early morning till night successive
"creels" and " kishes " of turf arrive at the farm from the
bog. The turf is built along the wall in one immense "clamp,"
sod upon sod making the three sides, the stone wall the fourth.
The clamp rises thirteen or fourteen feet in height, tapering to
the top, and when finished is quite an ornament to the farm-
yard. At night, when all is over, the boys celebrate the home-
coming by a dance in the barn. In the great old flagged
kitchen the tables are set for the guests ; up the wide chimney
the new fire is proclaiming its excellence. The beautiful,
peculiar blue smoke curls upwards, the turf looks like so many
black bricks, one over the other, blazing with a light, pleasant
flame. A strong iron bar runs across the chimney, from which
the pots are suspended. The old people sit round the fire, its
cheerful ruddy glow falling softly on their white hair and fur-
rowed cheeks. The scene recalls other days, and old stories
are told and old hearts grow young, and they live once more
in the " Auld Lang Syne " when they too danced and sung
at the " drawing home of the turf."

IN 1826 FATHER BACHELOT WAS MADE APOSTOLIC PREFECT OF THE ISLANDS.

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

BY REV. L. W. MULHANE.

HE political disturbances of late years in the
group of islands in the Pacific Ocean known as
" The Sandwich Islands," or " Hawaiian group,"
and the heroic labors of Father Damien, the
leper-priest on the island of Molokai, one of

the group, has attracted more than ordinary attention to this

far-away ocean land —

" Where the wave tumbles,
Where the reef rumbles;
Where the sea sweeps
Under bending palm branches,
Sliding its snow-white
And swift avalanches ;
Where the sails pass
O'er an ocean of glass,
Or trail their dull anchors
Down in the sea-grass."

642

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. [Aug.,

These islands consist of a group of twelve situated in the
North Pacific Ocean, midway between Mexico and China, and
lie in the path of the steamers that ply between the United
States and Australia, and nearly all vessels carrying passengers
between the two countries stop at the chief city, Honolulu,
which is about 2,100 miles from San Francisco, a voyage
usually made in one week. From efforts made both in England
and America, of late, it cannot be long before a cable will
reach the islands and open direct and rapid communication with
the rest of the world. The history of the missions of the
church and of the heroic labors of the missionaries in their
efforts to evangelize the natives is a most interesting one, and
has much of fascination in the simple recital of deeds, dates,
and names.

In the year 1819 — the year before the arrival of the Pro-
testant missionaries — Father De Quelen, a cousin of the Arch-
bishop of Paris, visited the islands on the occasion of the
voyage of the French frigate Uranie, of which he was chaplain.

Among the visitors to the vessel was the chief minister of the

THE WAVING BRANCHES OF THE DATE-PALM.

king, who, after a conference with the priest, was baptized and
the cross won its first conquest. In 1826 Father Bachelot was
named apostolic prefect of the islands. He sailed from Bordeaux
in November, 1826, and reached Honolulu in July, 1827, after a

1896.]

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

643

voyage of nearly eight months. He was accompanied by two
other priests, Father Armand, a Frenchman, and Father Short,
Irishman. Boki, the chief, welcomed Father Bachelot and

his companions, granted them permission to commence their
apostolic labors, and by many acts of kindness filled their hearts

GROUP OF BROTHERS OF MARY, ST. Louis COLLEGE.

with the most cheering expectations of success. This success
was destined to be overshadowed by a dark cloud. In 1829 the
natives were prohibited from assisting at any of the Catholic
services ; the prohibition, however, did not extend to foreigners.
The American missionaries were at the bottom of the suddenly
promulgated law. The natives, however, paid but little atten-
tion to the new decree and sought out the priests for instruc-
tion and baptism. The priests, supposing the opposition to them
had died out, went cheerfully on with their work until the law
was again published.

In the early part of 1831 the priests were commanded to
leave the islands ; this command was afterward modified into

644 THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. [Aug.,

entreaties for a speedy departure. Unwilling as Father Bache-
lot was to leave the scene of his labors, he remained until, as
the Sandwich Island Gazette, in its issue of October 6, 1838,
in its account of his death, says : " Threats, oft and oft repeated,
developed into a deed at which humanity — in all breasts where
its sympathies have a resting-place — has long and deeply shud-
dered. On the 24th of December, 1831, force, sanctioned by
the presence of inferior executives, deputed by heads of
government — cruel force, nurtured into action by the fostering
influence of mistaken zeal — unnatural force, repulsive to
heathenism, disgraceful to Christianity — was employed to drive
from the shores of Hawaii the virtuous, the intelligent, the
devoted, who, in the footsteps of their divine Master, had
reached these shores with offerings of acceptable sacrifice in
their hands and with love of God in their hearts. Their offer-
ings were spurned. Hatred was their portion, for lo ! they
worshipped God after the dictates of their own consciences ! "

The writer further says : " On that memorable day of Decem-
ber the proscribed were embarked on board the brig Waverley,
Captain Sumner. They were not informed to what part of the
world they were destined to be conveyed."

We quote the words of another in description of the termi-
nation of their forced voyage : " They were landed indeed, but
where and how ? On a barren strand of California, with two
bottles of water and one biscuit, and there left on the very
beach, without even a tree or shrub to shelter them from the
weather, exposed to the fury of the wild beasts which were
heard howling in every direction, and, for aught their merciless
jailer could know, perhaps to perish before morning. No habi-
tation of. man was nearer to them than forty miles, save a small
hut at the distance of two leagues. On the beach, then, with
the wild surf breaking beneath their very feet, they passed a
sleepless night with the canopy of heaven to cover them and
the arm of Omnipotence to protect them. Forty-eight hours
from the time of their disembarkation they were welcomed at
the mission of St. Gabriel, and received that kindness and sym-
pathy from their brethren of the Cross which had been denied
them in this land by the professed followers of the humble
Jesus."

Father Bachelot remained in California until March, 1837,
when he again ventured to the Sandwich Islands, but was again
exposed to the persecutors, accused of seditious intentions, held
up to the scorn of the natives ; he was again forced to embark

1896.]

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

645

on what was called — a floating prison — the brig Clementine. He
was there kept a prisoner until the intervention of foreign
powers, especially France, caused his and his companions' re-
lease amid the acclamations and joyful approbation of the

THE BAND AT ST. Louis COLLEGE, HONOLULU.

friends of liberty. In accordance with a promise made to the
government, he prepared as soon as circumstances would per-
mit for a voyage to some of the southern islands of the Pacific.
He was prostrated by a severe spell of sickness and on his re-
covery insisted upon taking the voyage.

The following obituary notice in the Sandwich Island .Gazette
of October, 1838, shrouded in black lines, tells us the closing
chapter of his life : " Died, on board the schooner Honolulu,
on his passage from the Sandwich Islands to the Island of
Ascension, the Rev. John Alexius Augustine Bachelot, member
of the Society of Picpus, and Apostolic Prefect of the Sand-
wich Islands. The exiled priest is no more ; he has gone to
the last tribunal to appear before the great Ruler of events —
he 'who made of one blood all the nations of the earth' — in
his presence to receive judgment for the deeds done in the
body ! May we not believe that at the hands of the Almighty
he will receive that mercy which his fellow-men have denied
him? May we not picture in imagination the soul of the de-
ceased bowing before the mercy-seat in heaven, as he was wont

646 THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. [Aug.,

to kneel at the altar on earth, making intercession before Om-
niscience for those who have wilfully persecuted him ? His
humble tomb at the island of Ascension is the monument of
his exalted character, and, though it may seldom meet the eye
of civilization, it will stand beneath the canopy of heaven,
where rest the souls of the pious, a mark of warning to the
untutored man who may daily pass by it."

Father Bachelot was forty-two years of age at the time of
his death, having been born in France in 1796. He commenced
his studies in the Seminary of Picpus, Paris, was afterwards
professor of philosophy and theology in the same seminary,
and for a time also in the college at Tours, when on account
of his well-proved virtues and talents he was named apostolic
prefect of these islands in July, 1826, at the age of thirty, by
His Holiness Leo XII. Shortly after Father Bachelot's death
the French government took official notice of the treatment of
the Catholic missionaries, as they were nearly all Frenchmen.
A frigate was dispatched to the islands ; the officers were au-
thorized to demand twenty thousand dollars as a security for

A GROUP OF MISSION FATHERS.

the good faith of the natives to the following conditions :
1st, That all 'products and manufactured articles should be
admitted free of duty. 2d, That the Catholic priests should be
allowed to land and pursue their labors without molestation

1896.] THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. 647

and receive the full protection of the laws. The articles were
agreed to, and a party of Catholic missionaries disembarked
from the frigate and commenced building a chapel.

One of the ludicrous events of those days was the action of
one of the " Calvinistic missionaries," who introduced for the
first time to the natives the mysteries of the magic lantern,
and showed them pictures of priests and sisters murdering and
persecuting people because they would not be baptized. It
was Fox's Book of Martyrs done up in true regulation style by
the aid of what was to the natives a great wonder — the magic
lantern. With the intervention of the French government
matters wore a brighter look for the church, and in the year
1840 the group of islands were included as a part of the
Vicariate-Apostolic of Oceanica, and Bishop Rouchouze, titular
Bishop of Nilopolis, arrived there the same year.

A writer of this year says of the island : " One of the long-
proscribed Catholic missionaries, since the removal of the
shameless interdict which oppressed them, has already suc-
ceeded in gaining over one thousand converts. A spot has
been selected near the beach on which a splendid church is to
be erected. Thus the first object to salute the voyager in the
distant ocean will be the cross — and what could be more grate-
ful to the eye of the Christian after his long sojourn on the
deep ? The beacon-fire of the light-house tells of a harbor of
rest on earth ; the cross is not only the sign of peace in this
world, but it also points to another far more enduring. The
Catholic priest, so long a proscribed and persecuted man, afraid
to show his head in public, who said his Mass in a whisper
and almost in the dark — who has dodged oppression for nearly
five years, his life all the time in jeopardy, is now seen daily
in the streets of Honolulu."

Bishop Rouchouze went to France in 1842 and, with several
priests, brothers and sisters, embarked for the islands from
Bordeaux. They had obtained from friends in France many
valuable presents for their mission : books, vestments, farming
implements, and many of the things necessary for civilized life.
The last ever seen of the vessel was as she was rounding Cape
Horn. After nearly five years waiting in anxiety for news of
the vessel or of any of the survivors, she was given up as lost
— no doubt the bishop and his companions finding a grave in
the waters of the Pacific — and in 1847 tne islands were made
a separate vicariate and Bishop Maigret, who had been a com-
panion in the prison-ship of Father Bachelot, was consecrated

648

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. [Aug.,

at Santiago, Chili, October 31, as titular Bishop of Arathia and
named first Vicar-Apostolic. For thirty-four years this zealous
bishop watched over the spiritual destinies of the islands and
literally wore out his life in the arduous task. It was during
his administration, in 1873, that Father Damien took charge of
the leper colony on the isle of Molokai, of which the poet
Stoddard says :

" A lotus isle for midday dreaming

Seen vague as our ship sails by ;

A land that knows not life's commotion :

Blest ' No- Man's Land!' we sadly say;

Has it a name, yon gem of ocean ?

The seaman answers, Molokai."

In that year
Father Damien
was present at
the dedication of
a little chapel on
the island of Maui,
and heard the
bishop express a
regret that he was
unable to send a
priest to the leper
settlement on the
island of Molokai.
He at once offered
himself. He was
accepted, and,
with the bishop
and the French
consul, set out in
a boat loaded with
cattle for Kalau-
papa, the port of
the leper settle-
ment, where for
sixteen years he
labored and toiled
and finally suc-
cumbed to the awful ravages of leprosy. For a time after his
arrival on the island he was treated with great harshness by
the authorities ; permission was refused him to leave the island

INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL.

1896.] THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. 649

even to visit a brother priest on the other islands for the
purpose of going to confession. The sheriff had authority to
arrest him and take him back should he make the attempt.
On one occasion Bishop Maigret passed in a vessel within sight
of Molokai. The bishop beseeched the captain to land, but
he refused ; all that he would grant was to stop the steamer's
machinery for a few moments and whistle. The signal was
heard, a canoe put off from the shore and drew alongside ; but
the ship's orders forbade Father Damien coming aboard. The
bishop leaned over the vessel's side, listening to the confession
that came from the occupant of the canoe. It was made in
French, which penitent and bishop alone understood. February,
1881, Bishop Koeckemann was consecrated as titular Bishop of
Olba, at San Francisco, by Archbishop Alemany. He died in
1892, when the present Bishop and Vicar-Apostolic, Right Rev.
Gulstan F. Ropert, was appointed. He was consecrated by
Archbishop Riordan, at San Francisco, as titular Bishop of
Panopolis, September 25, 1892.

The writer had the pleasure of meeting the present bishop
while in this country last year en route to Rome. He is a
charming character, simple as a child, with all the marked
suavity of the French race. He speaks English with a Breton
accent, and when he grows interested is a most entertaining
talker, especially when conversing about his " dear islands in
the Pacific." He is small of stature, iron-gray hair, pleasing
face, and evidently a hard worker. He is fifty-five years of age
and has been on the islands for twenty-eight years.

He was nine months reaching the scene of his labors when
he made the voyage from France in 1867. Before his conse-
cration he was pastor at Wailuku, and established a parochial
school for boys under the care of the Brothers of Mary from
Dayton, O., and also one for girls under charge of the Fran-
ciscan Sisters from Syracuse, N. Y. While pastor there, in the
words of one of the brothers, " he never tired." When the
bishop was shown the press dispatch from San Francisco con-
cerning the object of his visit to Europe, he enjoyed a hearty
laugh when he reached the words that " he was going to
Rome to induce the Pope " to do certain things. He was going
to make his visit to the Holy Father — what is known as ad
limina.

While in Europe last year the bishop was successful in pro-
curing the services of brothers to take charge of the Leper

650

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. [Aug.,

Home for Boys and Men on the island of Molokai, thus en-
abling the Franciscan Sisters of Syracuse, N. Y., already there
to devote their entire time to the Leper Home for Girls and
Women on the same island. The government had requested

RIGHT REV. GULSTAN F. ROPERT,
Vicar-Apostolic of the Sandwich Islands.

this of the bishop, and as of late years the work has grown
he was only too glad to comply. He says that the number of
lepers is now 1,200 — 100 in the Boys' Home, 100 in the Girl's
Home, and the remaining 1,000 scattered about in the various
houses in "The Leper Settlement" of Molokai. The boys*

1896.] THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. 651

home is called Kalawao ; the girls' home Kaluapapa. The
Board of Health of the islands has expended lately almost
$10,000 at Kalawao, putting up new buildings and adding to
old ones. Mr. Joseph Button, an American and a convert, who
has been there for nine years, has had charge of the work.
Since Father Damien's death the care of financial and material
affairs has been in his hands. The Board of Health wished at
least four brothers of the same order that Father Damien
belonged to, and paid their passage from Belgium to the
islands. The new home for men and boys is to be a very
complete affair in every way, and shows that Father Damien's
efforts to interest the government in treating the lepers
humanely, and in accordance with all that science and modern
civilization demand, is bearing fruit even after his departure
from earth.

Father Pamphile, a brother of Father Damien, accompanied
the bishop on his return to the Sandwich Islands, and has gone
to Molokai to take up the work which his heroic brother laid
down with his life seven years ago — a work which Robert Louis
Stevenson called " among the butts and stumps of humanity."
Twice before had he arranged to go to Molokai, but each time
serious illness frustrated his desire. He is now fifty-eight years
of age and his hair is snow white. He has been a professor
at Louvain, Belgium. Besides this heroic priest, two other
priests, four brothers, and four sisters accompanied the bishop
for mission work on the islands. The bishop is assisted in his
work by 23 priests, 22 of whom, like himself, are members of the
Society of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary — known in
France as " The Society of the Picpus " — and one, the chaplain
at St. Louis' College under the care of the Brothers of Mary
from Dayton, Ohio — Father Feith, of the same society. The
society or order to which the bishop and his priests belong is
known as " The Society of the Picpus " from the fact that when,
in the year 1805, Father Coudrin instituted it, he took up his
abode in the buildings commonly known as of Picpus, in the
Faubourg of St. Antoine, Paris. The priests who had lived
in this house years before, as the traditional story runs, were
unusually attentive to the people of the neighborhood who
were afflicted with some sort of skin disease, breaking out in
malignant sores and pustules. The priests went among them
and on many occasions pricked the sores, letting out the pus —
hence the name Pic-pus — Piquer-pus.

652

THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. [Aug.,

The fathers of this order were approved by the Holy See in
1817, and in 1825 Pope Leo XII. sent some of its members to
preach the Gospel in the islands of the Pacific,, and there they
have labored for the past seventy years. How appropriate that
they should have the care of lepers — the most malignant of
skin diseases, and thus again in this century fulfil the meaning
of the name " Pic-pus."

At present there are on the islands 35 churches, 59 chapels,
one college with 522 pupils, 3 academies, and 10 parochial
schools with 1,564 pupils. Last year there were 1,377 infant
baptisms and 199 adult baptisms, and 266 marriages. The

FATHER DAMIEN'S GRAVE.

Catholic population is about 31,000 out of an entire popula-
tion of 90,000. During the cholera at Honolulu last September
the Evening Bulletin of that city, in its issue of September 6,
thus speaks of one of the missionaries : " Yesterday evening
Father Valentine entered the Cholera Hospital as a volun-
teer, for the purpose of aiding in comforting the sick and
administering to the dying. As a matter of course this means
that he shut himself up day and night with those stricken down
with the disease. This exhibition of Christian devotedness to
suffering fellow-creatures is akin to the immortal example of
Father Damien's self-exile among the lepers of Molokai."

1896.] THE CHURCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. 655

This is the simple, unadorned narrative of the history of
the French missionaries for seventy years in the islands of the
Pacific, whether amid persecution or the ravages of leprosy or
cholera — all for the greater honor and glory of God. One of
them has for ever made sacred the very name of Molokai, and
it is something for us American Catholics to be proud of that
his companion and nurse in his last days is an American con-
vert, Joseph Dutton, once a soldier in the ranks of his country,
now a soldier enlisted for life under the standard of the cross.
Rest on, then, Father Damien, hero of the church of the Sand-
wich Islands, hero of the century ! Rest on to await the great
morn of resurrection ! Rest on in thy island home, made sa-
cred by thy life and hallowed by thy death ! Rest on where
the waving branches of thy pandanus-tree are as muffled mu-
sic and the sighing of the south wind over the coral reefs as a
solemn requiem ! Father Damien is dead, the sisters die one
by one, and yet the work goes on, the ranks fill up, recruited
from the great army of Christian soldiers onward marching. Men
and women die ; priests, brothers, and sisters die ; but as long
as the dread, mysterious, loathsome monster, leprosy, exists God's
charity will touch with its coal of fire the hearts of men and wo-
men, and they will nurse and console and watch and clean and
bandage the lepers, whether it be amid the islands of the
balmy South Sea, where the Pacific wooes to sleep ; or amid the
Indies, where the odor of lemon and orange and date refresh ;
or amid the ice-bound coasts of Iceland and New Brunswick,
where dread winter holds perpetual sway.

VOL. LXIII. — 42

A FEAST OF YEARS.*

N Juda's flowery mead, about the feet

Of Christ, there sways a thronging, famished crowd :
The strong thrust by the weak, to be allowed
A fuller share of that celestial meat
He brings to earth, to taste the bread replete

With grace and strength. And men, full harsh and

proud,

Drive back the little heads that, lowly bowed,
Peer thro' the throng to- see His face so sweet.
He stays the threatening hand, He stills the voice
Discordant with His own, and to His breast
He clasps these dearest objects of His love.
" Suffer," He says, in accents that rejoice

Their hearts, " these little children here to rest ;
For such my kingdom is prepared above."

II.

About the crowded streets is moaned the cry

Of children, hungry for the bread Christ came
To break. The cry is heard. Their Angels aim

The quest straight up to God's own Heart, and sigh :

•*To Right Rev. Monsignor Mooney, V.G. Silver Jubilee, June 9, 1896.

1896.]

A FEAST OF YEARS.

655

" Whom wilt Thou send, dear Lord, lest souls may die
For lack of bread ? They call upon Thy name,
O Sacred Heart ! whose love found words of blame

For those who erst forbade them to come nigh."

Down from the throne of God there comes reply :
" My chosen priest, of generous, loving heart,
Nerved for the toil and sacrifice, I send.

Him will you aid till, every struggle by,

He reap the harvest of the toilsome part
He'll share within My vineyard to the end."

III.

Forth from the crowded school flow songs of joy ;
The Pastor's festal day — a feast of years.
The memory of toil and pain endears

The face of innocence. Can pleasure cloy

When heavenly purity thus winsome, coy,

Would please its best-loved friend ? So fair appears
The scene sweet innocence has spread that tears

Well from a heart whose peace cares ne'er destroy.

So looked the Christ upon the childish throng
That clustered to His side, their lisped word
More precious to His heart than angel-song —

Their souls than holocausts of those that erred ;
Through the eternal years, e'en so He'll gaze
And find in their sweet voices meetest praise.

656 SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. [Aug.,

SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME.

" Who shall find a valiant woman ? far and from the uttermost coasts is the price of her.
Her children rose up and called her blessed : 'her husband, and he praised her. Give her of
the fruits of her hands : and let her works praise her in the gates."

•T is not alone one valiant woman whom we are
about to praise, but a double trinity of stars.

Foremost in rank stands the Duchess de
Noailles, a descendant of one of the most pro-
minent as well as oldest families of France, and
one of the most courtly dames of the court of Louis XV.
She it was who, appointed to receive the young bride of the
dauphin upon her entry into France, was destined to precede
her to the scaffold. So stately was she in her movements, and
so punctilious in her duty as mentor to the natural and inex-
perienced Marie Antoinette, that the latter humorously styled
her Mme. 1'Etiquette.

Solidly pious and virtuous, she walked to the guillotine with
the same courage and self-possession that she had always shown
when pursuing her duties in the midst of one of the most bril-
liant courts of Europe. In this most dreadful walk of her life
she was accompanied by her daughter, the Duchesse d'Ayen,
and her granddaughter, the eldest child of the latter. The fatal
journey was made during a storm of thunder and lightning so
terrific in its nature that a faithful friend and confessor was
enabled to approach them in disguise, unnoticed by the guards,
and, making himself known to the pious women, bestow upon
them the last absolution of the church. So touched by their
Christian charity and resignation was this holy man, that he
returned home praising God that there were to be found in
these our times martyrs not unworthy of the early days of
Christianity.

Tha three remaining sisters, the Marquises de Lafayette,
de Grammont, and de Montagu, when reunited after the dread-
ful scenes of the Revolution, composed a litany in honor of
these blessed ones, whom they looked upon as martyrs and
their special patrons, which they recited daily ever afterward.

1896.] SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. 657

THE WIFE OF A HERO.

Mme. de Lafayette, the second sister, was, at the early age
of fifteen, given in marriage to Gilbert Motier, Marquis de
Lafayette, who was but two years older than his bride. But
this early marriage was but the beginning of a long life of
such conjugal happiness as is granted, perhaps, but to few ; for
although their lives were shadowed by the course of public
events, they shared each other's trials and strengthened each
other to bear up under the severest ordeals.

In the year 1777 Lafayette, desirous of aiding the American
cause, escaped from France notwithstanding the vigilance of
the king, and was warmly welcomed by Washington, and the
rank of major-general in the United States army was conferred
upon him although he was but nineteen years of age.

War breaking out between France and England, the marquis
considered it his duty to assist his own country, and requested
a leave of absence from Congress to return to France. Bearing
a letter of recommendation from Congress addressed to the
king, he met with an enthusiastic reception. On the breaking
out of the French Revolution the marquis became a party
leader, and took a prominent part in the Assembly of the
States-General, which met in 1789, and, upon the fall of the
Bastile, was created commander-in-chief of the National Guards
of Paris.

In the war with Austria, 1792, Lafayette was appointed one
of the three major-generals to command on the frontier, where
his movements were finally arrested by the Jacobin party. He
denounced this faction in a letter to the Assembly, but in
return was denounced by it. Knowing that he was no longer
safe in France, he determined to leave the country. Accord-
ingly a few days after the memorable loth of August, in which
the king and queen were obliged to leave the Tuileries, he
crossed the frontier to the enemy's outposts at Rochefort with
the intention of making his way to Holland ; but he was
arrested, and, after being an inmate of several prisons, was
finally taken to the dungeon of Olmutz, in Moravia. Here the
imprisonment was of such a nature as to prove most injurious
to his health.

Through the instrumentality of Count Lally de Tollendal
Lafayette effected his escape, but was recaptured and immured
again in Olmutz, where he experienced even greater sufferings
than before, since he was now chained heavily and maltreated

658 SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. [Aug.,

to such a degree that his health, already poor, gave way en-
tirely, and to add to his sufferings he learned of the Reign of
Terror in France.

A FAMILY HOLOCAUST.

It was at this sad time that, ignorant of the whereabouts or
even existence of her dearly loved husband, Mme. de Lafayette
was called upon to witness the cruel execution of her grand-
mother, mother, and sister, to which anguish was added that of
separation from the remaining members of her family, of
whose consequent fate she was ignorant. Washington, on learn-
ing the place of his imprisonment, tried every means in his
power to procure the release of the marquis, and the American
minister at Paris received instructions to provide Mme. Lafay-
ette with sufficient funds to carry herself and daughters to
Vienna. There the heroic woman had an audience with the
Emperor Francis II., during which, by the recital of her suffer-
ings and recounting the services of her husband to the French
monarchy, she tried to induce him to grant his release. Her
request was refused ; but she was allowed, along with her
daughters, to share his imprisonment, on condition that having
once entered the walls of the prison she would never leave them.
She accepted these hard conditions, and became a ministering
angel to her husband. Her health failing, she begged to be
allowed to go to the capital for medical advice, but was
informed that by doing so she would not be permitted to enter
the dungeon again ; and having already suffered the agony of
suspense as to the fate of her husband during their long
separation, she chose to remain and suffer.

Through kind American friends her only son, George
Washington Lafayette, was allowed to depart for America,
where he was received into the family of General Washington
at Mount Vernon, and the safety and welfare of this one child
was the only oasis in the dreadful desert of suffering and trial
upon which her thoughts could rest.

After nearly two and a half years of the confinement of this
admirable woman, and the fifth of that of her husband, they
were liberated through the united influence of Washington and
the Liberal party of the House of Commons, along with the
demand of General Bonaparte. The health of Mme. de Lafay-
ette, however, was completely broken down. The joyful family
were conducted by military escort to Hamburg and placed
under the protection of the American minister, but they finally
passed into Holland.

1896.] SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. 659

Upon the overthrow of the Directory Lafayette hastened to
Paris to secure his rights as a citizen, and was offered a seat
in the Senate ; but this he declined, preferring to await the
hoped-for constitutional government, to which he remained
ever faithful.

The family took up their residence at the estate called
Lagrange, which had descended to Mme. de Lafayette from her
grandfather, the Duke de Noailles, and which had been pre-
served somehow during the vicissitudes of the Revolution.

After the return of the general from his fourth visit to
America, in the year 1825, he became, partly through the
prestige of his importance in America, a prominent figure in
the Chamber of Deputies, and was the leader of the popular
party.

In the year 1830 the course of Charles X. and his minister,
Polignac, brought affairs to a crisis, and the " three days of
July," their barricades and popular outbreak, ended in the
dethronement of the king. Lafayette was prime mover during
this time, and was the acknowledged master of the position.
Some proposed to make him president of the republic, but he
preferred to fall in with the views of his brethren in the
Chamber of Deputies and place the Due d'Orleans on the
throne.

A HEROINE AT HER POST.

The life of Mme. de Grammont, although not so thrilling in
its eventfulness as that of her older sister, the Marquise de
Lafayette, will be even more interesting as the picture of the
hidden life of a servant of God who, although in the world,
was not of it.

It is seldom that one finds perfect disinterestedness in the
service of that Being whom one would imagine well deserving
of being loved and served for himself alone, and now as in the
days of the apostles, when there was contention as to who
should be the greater, we find anxiety and eagerness to obtain
and hold positions of importance even in the service of him
who came upon earth to teach the sublimity of the state of
dependence and subjection. It is, therefore, all the more
refreshing to hear of dignities disdained and honors valued
solely because the consequences of deserving action, yet feared
and shunned on account of the dangers by which they are
ever attended, and that wisdom, inspired by the Holy Ghost,
which teaches one that with them, as with others, the higher

666 SO'ME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME, [Aug.,

the position the greater may be the fall. As Dante wrote :
" Piu grande cade piu chi c montato."

The Marquis de Grammont was among the grenadiers at
the Tuileries who endeavored in vain, on that fatal loth of
August, to save the royal victims of the Revolution. He was
obliged to seek his safety in concealment, but was finally pro-
scribed. Mme. de Grammont managed to avoid imprisonment
by remaining concealed in their residence of Villersexe, which
sustained no injury during the desolating scenes of the Revolu-
tion, it being well known as an asylum for all who labored
and were heavily burdened. The marquise herself remained
unharmed in her concealment, which, in all probability, was
intentionally overlooked by many that they might not feel
obliged to molest or even exile one who had ever humbled
herself to the ranks of the lowest in the sight of God and in
her own estimation, and who, while supporting the dignity of
her position in life, ever respected the poor, in whom she
recognized the divine image.

It was in this solitude that, uncertain as to the fate of
those dearest to her, she fortified her soul in all the Christian
virtues, learning to its fullest extent the nothingness of all
that the world calls great and its utter inability to fill the
wants of the soul. There she learned that unalterable patience
which caused her to bear up under the vicissitudes of life and
accept with resignation the decrees of Providence, whether
manifested to her in trials and afflictions or, as was afterwards
the case, in honors and prosperity ; there she fostered the
germs of that master virtue, charity, the legacy of those dear
ones gone before, and which she increased by the daily pray-
ers offered for those whose hands were stained with the blood
of her kindred ; there she learned that true position of soul
before its Creator, and an humble estimation of her own good
works which, seen in such clear light, seemed but mere acts of
justice in assigning to their channels the goods which Almighty
God had entrusted to her stewardship.

Probably it was during this stern time of trial that, in con-
quering her natural impulses, her manner assumed that appar-
ent rigidity which characterized her in after life ; for, although
really tender-hearted, she was rather wanting in those affabili-
ties and graces so becoming to one in her position in life ; but
if a smile but rarely lighted her strongly-marked features,
she was none the less revered and loved for that. Her ster-
ling worth and heroic virtues caused her to be looked upon as

1896.] SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. 66 1

a saint even during her life-time, the more so as her rigid
views never interfered in the least with those of others or
caused her to censure those who took a far different view of
the world and its vanities. She pitied such, but never censured.

ONE OF THE OLD NOBILITY.

After that stormy period was over the sisters were reunited
once more. The marquis returned from his exile and was
restored to his former rank, and the post of deputy under the
Restoration was assigned him and confirmed by subsequent
elections until his death. Her son was appointed to a position
of honor and distinction, and happiness once more was the
portion of the reunited family, who were the more fitted to
enjoy it having known and experienced its loss.

The Count F£lix de Merode, who had refused the crown of
Belgium, which had been offered to him upon its having thrown
off the yoke of Holland in the year 1830, came to Villersexe to
seek a wife in the person of Rosalie de Grammont ; and her
heroic mother, who had closed the eyes of so many loved chil-
dren, was called upon to part with her best loved one. It was
a great trial to the mother's heart to break again the household
hearth so lately reunited, and perhaps a less worthy suitor
might have sued in vain ; but one who seemed to reflect to
such a degree her favorite virtues, and those which shone so
conspicuously in her own character, whose contempt for the
dignities of the world had proved itself by casting beneath his
feet a crown, whose magnanimity had shown itself by proposing
and afterwards serving the one who had stooped to pick it up,
quite won the mother's heart, and his standard, which bore for
its motto " Plus cThonneur que d'honneurs" entirely vanquished it.

The count and his lovely wife often visited the paternal
roof, and delightful were those reunions, presided over by the
courtly marquis and his saintly wife, who seemed to live but
for others, and who in their hospitality were ever unexacting
and unselfish, ever ready to increase the joy and happiness of
those around them. In this old chateau there reigned solid
comfort, but all luxury and ostentation were banished.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF SUITOR.

A second time was her best-loved child, her Rosalie, de-
manded of her mother's heart ; but this time it was the pale
angel of death who claimed her as his own, and such a claim
is never set aside. Unmurmuringly the heroic woman yielded

662 SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. [Aug.,

her to his arms, saying, with the holy patriarch Job of old,
" The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord ! " and accepted in her place
her dying trust, her best-loved child, her Benjamin, her little
Xavier, scarce three years old.

The saintly grandmother took the little one to her heart
and care, and, although undemonstrative in her affection, never-
theless poured it upon him in her characteristic manner, by
acts developing in his character all that was good and holy and
repressing all that was the contrary. She infused into his char-
acter, at an early age, her own sterling piety, along with a
contempt of all that was earthly, and tried to raise his soul be-
yond the accidents of birth and fortune. A deep reader of the
Scriptures, she used to dwell upon the life of the God-man and
paint to him, by means of vivid word-pictures, his humility,
poverty, and suffering life, and taught him to judge of the com-
parative excellence of things proportionately as they advanced
or retarded his eternal welfare. He was to be an instrument
in the hands of God to be used solely for the good of others,
and any appearance of vanity or pride was checked in its birth.
He was to be what he was in the eyes of God, and never to
consider birth or fortune as a stepping-stone to earthly prefer-
ment. So strictly did she rest herself upon, and build up in
him, this principle that in after years, when learning from him
of his promotion to the office of cameriere in the papal house-
hold, she, fearing that ambition might have led him to desire
this position, wrote him, instead of a congratulatory letter, as
most relatives would have done under the circumstances, one
of severe reproof, telling him that an humble position in a
country parish would be far more suitable for him.

EARLY LESSONS IN CHARITY.

In her active duties of charity she was ever accompanied by
her little grandson. She would take him to the houses of the
poor and afflicted, and allow him to distribute the comforts
which she had provided and even frequently would send him
alone to be her almoner. Her whole time was, after the neces-
sary family obligations, consecrated to the service of the poor
and the education of their children. She built and endowed a
fine hospital near the park, and a large convent where young
girls were educated. She would with her own hands assist in
making soup, and deal it out to the needy, and never hesitated
to take into her carriage, for conveyance to the hospital or for

1896.] SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. 663

the advice of eminent physicians, those who were afflicted with
the most loathsome diseases. Is it surprising that, carefully as
she endeavored to conceal them, her good works, along with
her rigid fasts and humiliating labors, should transpire, and cause
her to be looked upon and venerated as a saint before the
church has set her seal upon her beatification, which will pro-
bably never be? Her life will remain hidden in Christ with
God.

Her life was essentially active. She read but little, and that
little was confined to a few books which could be numbered
upon the fingers of one hand : The Imitation of Christ, Intro-
duction to a Devout Life, The Lives of the Saints, and above all
the Holy Scriptures. Here it was that she drew, as from its
fountain-head, those living waters which nourished her soul and
kept it ever vigorous and young. She seemed not to advance
in years as time passed on, and her style and thoughts were
to the last as fresh as in the days of her youth ; her hand-
writing bears evidence of that. But although satisfied with but
little literary food herself, she did not depreciate the taste for it
in others, and assented willingly that the little Xavier, when he
was sufficiently old, should be entered upon his collegiate course,
where he might early begin, under religious auspices, that know-
ledge of the world as well as course of studies which were to
fit him in after-life for whatever path he might pursue. She
never relinquished, however, her office of mentor, and it might
have amused many to witness the youthful manner in which
she always treated him even after having reached man's estate.
He was always to her her little Xavier, and it would have no
doubt equally edified them to witness the youthful manner in
which her reproaches or rebukes were received. These salutary
lessons she continued by letter even when, after his military
career, he began and finished his theological studies in Rome.

In his later years Xavier de Merode looked back with rev-
erence upon the life and teachings of his grandmother, and
acknowledged that her early influence had been his safeguard
in the midst of the dangers of the world, and he blessed the
memory of her who had taught him early to love and serve
that Master whose most faithful servant he proved himself to be.

A TRULY ILLUSTRIOUS RACE.

The diocese of Besan^on venerates three of the house of
De Grammont among her archbishops, and owes to them much
of her prosperity in the way of its principal hospitals and seats

664 SOME GREAT WOMEN OF THE OLD REGIME. [Aug.,

of learning ; but probably none of them ever exceeded in virtue
and in the interior and hidden life the saintly Marquise de
Grammont.

We have come to the last of that heroic little band left for
a time upon earth to perfect their days before going to receive
the crowns awaiting them.

Of Mme. de Montagu little is known, but that little is suffi-
cient to prove that she was not unworthy of the heroic band
of confessors that either preceded her or remained to bear the
cross before being crowned with their loved ones in that land
in which partings shall be no more.

During the Reign of Terror she fled to England, where, in
security herself, she could shed lonely tears for those she had
left behind, and of whose fate she was so uncertain. Whether
she prayed in unison with them for those whose ruthless hand
had cut down their dear ones and separated those left behind ;
or whether they were included among those for whose murder-
ers she daily prayed, she knew not, and anguish was her daily
food. She passed through Belgium and Switzerland, ever try-
ing to learn some tidings of her dear ones. The public life of
the Marquis de Lafayette caused her fears to be set at rest as
to the fate of himself and his little family, although most har-
rowing was it to her loving heart to be unable to alleviate their
sufferings during their cruel imprisonment. Mme. de Grammont
being a more private individual, her husband in exile and sepa-
rated from her, it was not so easy to trace, and her fate was
for a long time unknown ; but her retreat was finally discovered
by mere chance, the world would say, we will call it better —
Providence. So, relieved from the anxiety of uncertainty, she
waited in patience, hoping for the day in which they would be
once more united.

After the Revolution, and when things had somewhat re-
sumed their usual tenor, the sisters met at Villersexe, and min-
gled their tears of joy and sadness — joy for those who were
left, sadness for those who were no more.

1896.] AMARILLI ETRUSCA. 66$

AMARILLI ETRUSCA AND THE ROMAN READING-
CIRCLE MOVEMENT.

BY MARIE ROCHE.

'MARILLI ETRUSCA is the nom de plume given
by the Arcadian Academy to one of the most
gifted women who ever wore the laurel wreath
of poetry. This academy was founded in Rome
by a woman and a queen, Christine of Sweden,
some two centuries ago. Its mission was two-fold — to check
the progress of a false and depraved taste which threatened to
vitiate every art, and by careful study to restore Italian litera-
ture to its original standard.

To this noble end the academy has been most faithful,
never for .an instant losing sight of its ideal. To-day we find
it vigorous and flourishing, gaining instead of losing strength,
for all through these two hundred and five years, in spite of
persistent attacks, derision, and contradiction, it has been true
to the holy principles which first inspired it, and under the
beneficent influence of religion it has given its country's litera-
ture an ever-growing impulse in the right direction and guarded
it faithfully from all corruption.

A glance through the noble halls of the academy shows us
the portraits of many to whom the Arcadians point with pride
as leaders of art and song in Italy — names unfamiliar, perhaps,
to the ordinary student, but whose works inspire the highest
and best thinkers of the day. It has been said that the Arca-
dian Academy is content to be crowned with laurels of the
past. To disprove this it would suffice to name the literary
celebrities and students of high rank who, whether Italian or
foreign, covet the privilege of admission. Bishops, cardinals,
reigning sovereigns, and royal princesses are to be found among
them.

A short time ago the King of Portugal was admitted. The
Holy Father, Pope Leo XIII., in the days when he was free
from the many cares and solicitudes of the triple crown of
Peter, was a leader in the academy and read before it many
learned and brilliant papers.

The academy numbers several hundred associates, either ac-
tive or honorary. A candidate for active membership must be

666

AMARILLI ETRUSCA AND THE

[Aug.,

a writer of acknowledged literary ability, and his name pre-
sented by competent judges. Honorary membership requires
the candidate to be, if not the author of some well-known and
esteemed work, at least recognized as a distinguished patron
of letters. This degree is sometimes conferred upon foreigners,
as in the instance of the King of Portugal and Carmen Sylvia.
There are no fees for membership save such as are attend-

TERESA BANDETTI.NI, BETTER KNOWN AS AMARILLI ETRUSCA, BORN AT LUCCA.

ant upon the conferring of diplomas. Just now Monsignor
Berlotini, canon of St. Peter's at the Vatican, a man noted
for his erudition, is president. Under his direction his learned
colleagues are engaged on a commentary of Dante's Divina
Commedia, that great work of Italian genius which, like the
plays of our own Shakspere, is an inexhaustible mine to the
commentators of each succeeding generation.

Lectures are given each evening on Biblical and Historical
Literature, Hygiene, and Science ; these are attended by a

1896.] ROMAN READING-CIRCLE MOVEMENT. 667

numerous audience of earnest and cultivated students, and con-
stitute an uninterrupted school, so to speak, in which is ac-
quired a taste for good literature and scientific study.

There are branch academies of the Arcadia in the different
cities of Italy, which cultivate literary talent and are of ines-
timable value to young minds, saving them from the corruption,
religious, moral, and literary, which now pervades the world of
letters. This Roman academy has anticipated by two hundred
years the American Summer-School and Reading-Circle move-
ment, yet in its infancy but already so popular in our own
country.

There are annual and fortnightly meetings which are at-
tended by active members only. Special assemblies are con-
voked from time to time ; these are public, and to them all
members, both active and honorary, are invited. Commemora-
tive meetings are held on the anniversary of those events
whose memory should arouse ambition to " add a new glory
to the glory of the past." A living evidence of the robust
and vigorous life of the academy is the amount of intellectual
labor and the devotion to science required by such continuous
assemblies.

One of the most interesting commemorative meetings took
place lately on the anniversary of the day when Amarilli
Etrusca was solemnly crowned with laurel by the academy,
and her portrait hung in its hall, one hundred years ago.
The illustrious academician, Rev. Pietro Desideri, recalled at
this centennial her marvellous life in a delightful eulogy, and
it is from this panegyric that we have drawn the romantic inci-
dents of a career which, for vicissitudes, is almost unrivalled in
the history of literature.

Near the left bank of the River Serchio, in a fertile and
well-watered valley, lies the ancient city of Lucca. It is of
Etruscan origin, and few cities of its size can boast a prouder
list of illustrious names. Among the most distinguished we
may mention the profound theologian and moralist, Constantine
Roncaglia ; Pier Jacopo Bacci, historian ; Castruccio Bonamici,
the celebrated latinist ; Ludovico Maracci, the Oriental linguist ;
and Bottoni, the painter. But Lucca's crown of joy is Teresa
Eandettini, called in Arcadia Amarilli Etrusca, from her native
city.

Our heroine was born on the I2th of August, 1763. Her
parents, Domenicho and Maria Alba Micheli, were of honorable
-extraction but possessed of little means. If the gift of wealth

668

AMARILLI ETRUSCA AND THE

[Aug.,

was denied her, Teresa was endowed with a precocious intelli-
gence, a lively imagination, and an extraordinary love of study ;
gifts of God which enabled her, in after years, to persevere on
the rugged road to fame which he destined her to pursue. It
is said that an Augustinian monk, struck with the intense love
of study evinced by the little girl, prophesied that she would
become another Gorilla. This seemed incredible at the time,
for Gorilla Olimpica (Maria Magdalena Morelli) was a poetess
of such distinction that her marble bust had a place of honor
in the hall of the academy.

When Teresa was only six years old, and could barely read

HOUSE AT LUCCA WHERE AMARILLI ETRUSCA LIVED.

and write, chance threw in her way a volume of Petrarch's
sonnets. She read and re-read them with ever-increasing de-
light, till such a love of poetry was enkindled in her soul that
the desire to write verse became a passion ; and in her
moments of solitude she would improvise. Imagining that a
rival competed with her, she would change her place in the
room and improvise a rejoinder. Such power and imagination,
in a child of her age, who had received but the most elemen-
tary instruction, certainly evinced rare genius. Her intense
love of reading, study, and the composition of verse alarmed
her parents, who feared the strain too great for her frail and

1896.] ROMAN READING-CIRCLE MOVEMENT. 669

delicate organization. They forbade it therefore, and to insure
her obedience deprived her of all books and writing materials.
But poetry was so essentially a part of the child's nature she
could not resist the impulse to write. After some days, unable
to procure pens and paper at home, she gathered scraps of
paper in the street, and in a secluded corner of the house she
wrote with a bit of charcoal the verses which sprang spontane-
ously from her ardent imagination. This state of affairs
became at last insupportable ; she resolved to confide in a
learned and reliable friend of the family. Weeping bitterly,
she revealed to him her love of study and poetry, and begged
him to intercede with her parents that she might be left to
pursue the natural and strong inclination of her heart. The
result exceeded her most sanguine expectations. Her father
and mother withdrew their prohibition and gave her, with
Petrarch's poetry, the classic works of Dante, Tasso, Ariosto,
and Metastasio.

The little girl applied herself to these studies with great and
persevering ardor, not only committing the master-pieces to
memory but reading with such keen intelligence that she was
able to write a really profound commentary on the Divina
Commedia. This serious work was necessary, for, as Horace
affirms, the poetic gift must be cultivated by severe and well-
regulated study from the earliest years if it is ever to attain
perfection.

A smiling future lay before Teresa; at fifteen fame seemed
within her grasp, when the death of her father suddenly
plunged the family into poverty. The poor mother, now a
desolate widow, 'took a resolution which put an end to the
child's studies. Thinking her daughter would realize a fortune
on the stage, she placed her among the dancers at the opera.
This decision was a thunder-bolt to the young girl, who, how-
ever, submitted to the maternal wishes, fearing to further
afflict her mother, already prostrated by the double loss of
husband and fortune. Much against her will Teresa appeared
in the theatres of Florence, Bologna, Venice, and Trieste. It
is true that the opera ballet in those days was far different
from that which degrades the stage to-day, yet one can hardly
understand such a step on the part of a mother. God, how-
ever, protected the pure-hearted and pure-minded child, who,
notwithstanding her perilous profession, with no earthly pro-
tector and exposed to every danger, kept herself unspotted
from the world, preserved an unblemished reputation, and even
VOL. LXIII, — 43

6/0

AMARILLI ETRUSCA AND THE

[Aug.,

continued her studies, reading Dante behind the scenes during
intermissions, thus gaining among her companions the name of
"Dotta Ballerina," "The Learned Ballet Girl."

One day she heard a poet from Verona improvising between
the acts. She listened, trembling with emotion ; then, following
a sudden impulse, stepped forward and replied in verse of such
beauty and true poetic inspiration that she was recognized
from that day as an improvisatrice. We may imagine the
surprise of all who listened. She was urged to leave the career

SOLEMN MEETING OF THE ACADEMY OF THE ARCADIA AT ROME.

of a dancer and follow the nobler path of literature. Such
advice corresponded only too well with her own longing for
home-life, thirst for knowledge, and love of poetry ; but want
of means prevented her from abandoning the theatre. Never-
theless, the hope of a future gave her new courage, and in
each city where she successively appeared she sought the
friendship of distinguished scholars whose age and position
rendered them safe guides. At Florence she became the pupil
of the venerable Vincent Martinelli, who appreciated the rare
genius of the young girl and urged her on to severe studies.

1896.] ROMAN READING-CIRCLE MOVEMENT. 671

At Venice she made acquaintance with the celebrated natural-
ist l'Abb6 Albert de Fortis, who turned her attention to the
natural sciences. At Trieste she placed herself under the
direction of Vincenza Giuniga and Baron Brigido, governor of
the city, both learned men. At Bologna the renowned Sal-
violi and Senator Cacili were her patrons.

In this city she met Pietro Landucci, whom she married.
He was a captain of cavalry in the service of the Duke of
Modena, and seems to have been in every way worthy of her
choice. She left the theatre from that moment and dedicated
her life henceforth to home, literature, and art. Following the
advice of those whose rank and learning entitled them to con-
sideration, she applied herself to the study of the Sacred
Scriptures, the modern sciences, history, mythology, French,
Latin, and Greek, and with such success that among her trans-
lations are exquisite renderings of Homer, classic beauties from
Ovid and Virgil, and Buffon's Natural History from the French.

We hardly know which to admire most in Teresa Bandettini,
the improvisatrice or the poetess. Her poems show profound
thought and extensive reading. Her Rimes Varies, published
when she was only twenty-three years of age, are imbued with
the spirit of Petrarch. These volumes were followed by a poem
on "The Death of Adonis," and in 1774 by a tragedy entitled
" Polidoro," dedicated to her friend the celebrated painter,
Angelica Kauffmann, who in return painted her portrait as an
improvisatrice. Of this tragedy the famous Francheschi says :
" Many so-called great tragedies are inferior to that ,of the
celebrated poetess of Lucca. In it we find the simplicity of
the Greek tragedy ; the characters are true to history and well
sustained to the end ; the dialogue natural, animated, and
thrilling; the sentiment pure and elevated." In 1805 she pub-
lished the poem " Teside," every line of which is a gem. After
reading it one of the greatest critics of the day wrote to her :
" You should thank the Almighty for the great gift he has
bestowed upon you. My admiration of your talent grew as I
read each page of your poem." Among her shorter poems we
cannot omit mention of " Viareggio," of "Fragments des Plu-
sieurs Histoires Romantiques," together with some thoughtful
verses written on the death of those whom she loved. One in
memory of Vincenzo Monti breathes the tenderest and most
sincere regret. Touching beyond description are the lines
written when her only child, a little daughter, left her for
heaven. Her best tragedy was " Rosmunda in Ravenna."

672

AMARILLI ETRUSCA AND THE

[Aug.,

In Teresa's poems we find beautiful imagery and harmony
of language united to noble thoughts ; they charm the ear by
their melody, and lift up the soul to the ideal. Her talent for
improvisation was such that without a moment's reflection she
would compose on any theme given, not only developing it in
exquisite verse, but enriching it with many historical and
poetical allusions.

In personal appearance she was not beautiful in the ordinary

MGR. BERLOTINI, CANON OF ST. PETER'S.

acceptance of the term, but when speaking or reciting her face
became illuminated by inspiration and transfigured with a beauty
almost supernatural.

One day at Bologna when invited to improvise in public, on
different subjects to be suggested by the audience, the death of
Marie Antoinette was chosen ; the theme called forth her high-
est powers. A tide of pathetic eloquence broke forth from her
heart, and when she described in tender and moving accents

1896.] ROMAN READING-CIRCLE MOVEMENT. 673

the last moments of Austria's royal daughter all present were
choked with sobs, whilst she herself, overcome with emotion,
was obliged to interrupt her song.

The renown of her genius won her a place in the " Academic
des Arcades," and she was named by her associates Amarilli
Etrusca. Rome set the last seal upon her triumphs. She ar-
rived in the Eternal City in 1793. At several meetings of the
academy a brilliant assembly of illustrious men of letters, car-
dinals, and academicians crowded to hear her. She improvised
eight consecutive times on the same subject, each time varying
the ideas and the metre.

Such extraordinary gifts merited the heartiest appreciation,
and the following year, on March 2, when Abb6 Louis Godard
presided at the academy, her portrait was crowned with laurels
and hung in the principal hall. On this occasion Vincenzo
Monti, Prince Baldassar Odescalchi, Duke de C£ri, and many
other academicians offered poetical tributes in her praise. Simi-
lar honors were paid her in Perugia and in Mantua. Her name
was now on every lip. Pius VI., of holy memory ; Maria Theresa,
Empress of Austria ; the Archduchess Beatrix d'Este ; Charles
Albert, King of Sardinia; Napoleon, Emperor of France, and
many other reigning sovereigns lavished honors upon her. In
her native town her bust, in marble, was placed in the literary
Academy " des Oscuri,". and the great Alfieri, although a de-
clared enemy to the art of improvising, could not restrain his
admiration for her poems, and wrote a classic sonnet in her
praise. All this homage was paid not only to her genius, but
still more to her sweet and gracious character as a woman and
her sincere religious sentiments. Throughout her long life her
moral virtue shone undimmed. In a career that was beset with
many dangers an almost severe reserve marked her intercourse
with the world ; yet " Pride never sat at her fireside, where
Poetry was the sweet handmaid of Faith." She frequented the
sacraments regularly, and loved to repeat that trust in God is
the foundation of all true human wisdom. Her love of Christ
and his poor breathed in all she wrote. The last days of her
life were spent in Modena, where, on the 5th of April, 1837,
at the age of sixty-four, after receiving the last sacraments of
the church, she peacefully gave up her soul to the God whom
she had so loved, praised, and honored on earth. Her name is
still spoken with enthusiasm by her people and country, and
we trust this brief sketch will make her better known in our
own land.

674 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? [Aug.,

ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID?*

BY REV. CHARLES J. POWERS.

'HE discussion of the validity of Anglican orders
has been vehement from time to time during
the past three hundred years, and is as yet un-
settled, although perhaps more nearly brought
to a termination than ever before because of
the papal commission just now sitting.

What the Holy See will determine can only be surmised,
albeit prophecies are rife enough. But whatever the decision
may be, it is evident to all that the conclusion in the matter
will have been reached after careful, impartial investigation of
the arguments advanced by both the supporters and the oppo-
nents of the claim for the validity of Anglican orders.

Nor can the consequences of Rome's judgment, favorable or
unfavorable to the Anglicans, as yet be certainly foreseen. For
ourselves, we cannot agree with even so profound a thinker as
Mr. Gladstone in believing that a decision adverse to the
Anglican claim will retard the progress of Christian unity. It
is our conviction that the mind and heart of Pope Leo will
find means to remove the obstacles from the way of those who
are sincerely desirous of entering the one fold of which he is
the one shepherd. For while the dogmas of divine and Catho-
lic faith are as unchangeable and eternal as truth itself, the dis-
cipline of the church can be adjusted to meet the exigencies
arising from particular and peculiar conditions.

We may, therefore, confidently rely upon the Sovereign
Pontiff doing all that loving kindness and wisdom will prudently
suggest to further one of the great aims of his glorious pontifi-
cate, the religious unity of Christendom.

It is our purpose here to sketch in outline the grounds for
the position taken in dealing with this subject by the majority
of Catholic writers. The arguments may be classed under three
general headings, this division being based upon —

1st. The attitude of the Holy See and the Catholic hierarchy,
as displayed in the various decisions emanating from Rome,
and in the practical application of these in individual cases ;

* Are Anglican Orders Valid? By J. MacDevitt, D.D., for many years Professor of
Ecclesiastical History and the Introduction to Sacred Scripture in Foreign Missionary
College, All Hallows, Dublin. New York : Benziger Brothers.

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? 675

2d. Upon the facts and uncertainties viewed from an his-
torical stand-point ;

3d. Upon theological difficulties arising from the probability
of defect in the intention, and in the matter and the form, of
the Anglican rite of consecration and ordination.

As soon as Queen Mary ascended the throne a bill was
passed by Parliament in November, 1553, for the reunion of
the Anglican Church with Rome. Immediately the queen made
petition to the pope for a representative of the Holy See who,
possessing legatine powers, would adjust ecclesiastical difficulties
in England, and restore the church in that country to the position
it had held among Catholic nations before the schism of Henry
VIII. and the heresy of Edward VI.

Reginald Cardinal Pole, illustrious by his birth — he was a
prince of the blood — but more by his learning and holiness,
was appointed legate. Froude bears testimony that " his charac-
ter was irreproachable," and that "in all the virtues of the
Catholic Church he walked without spot or stain."

On his advent as plenipotentiary the reconciliation of re-
pentant bishops and priests became a matter of the first impor-
tance, and a decision was sought as to the course of procedure
to be taken in regard to the clergy who had submitted them-
selves to the royal mandates during the reign of the late king
and that of his father.

Paul IV. instructed his representative in two documents* is-
sued, the one toward the middle, the other in the fall of 1555.
His Holiness recognized the validity of the orders of those
consecrated and ordained according to the approved form of
the church — "in forma ecclesice" — even in cases where the offi-
ciants were schismatics. The bishops and archbishops, however,
and those promoted by them to sacred orders, who had not ob-
tained consecration and ordination " in forma ccclesice" could
not be considered as having received orders, and were bound
to reordination before exercising any function.
POLICY OF THE CHURCH.

Such a decision, coming from the Holy See in the form of

*"Eos tantum Episcopos et Archiepiscopos qui non in forma ecclesiae ordinati et
consecrati fuerunt, rite et recte ordinatos dici non posse, et propterea personas ab eis ad
ordines ipsos promotas, ordines non recepisse sed eosdem ordines a suo ordinario de novo
suscipere debere et ad id teneri."

"Alios vero quibus ordines hujusmodi etiam collati fuerunt ab Episcopis et Archiepisco-
pis in forma ecclesiae ordinatis et consecratis licet ipsi Episcopi et Archiepiscopi schismatici
fuerint . . . recepisse characterem ordinum eis collatorum executione ipsorum ordinum
caruisse et propterea tam nostram quam pr*fati Reginald! Cardinalis et Legati dispensa-
tionem eis concessam eos ad executionem ordinum hujusmodi ita ut in eis et absque eo quod
juxta literarum nostrarum prasdictarum tenorem ordines ipsos a suo ordinario de novo sus-
cipiunt, libere ministrare possint plene habilitasse sicque ab omnibus censeri.

676 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? [Aug.,

a brief, is in itself of great weight in aiding us to reach a judg-
ment in this controversy. For the policy of the church has
been to admit the validity of sacraments administered and re-
ceived by schismatics and heretics when the lack of some es-
sential element has not caused them to be void.

" Sancta sancte " is a maxim of ecclesiastical practice to the
strict application of which the whole policy of the church, con-
cerning the sacraments of those separated from unity, bears
witness.

So adverse has Rome been to having the validity of such
sacraments unjustly questioned that she has in some cases for-
bidden their repetition under severe penalty. Irregularity, for
instance, is incurred by the baptizer and the baptized who
rashly reiterate the sacrament of baptism because it has been
given by a heretic ; and punishment would not be long with-
held should mistaken and irreverent zeal go the length of re-
peating other sacraments in cases where there was no room for
doubt of their validity.

The Roman Curia evidently at this time was persuaded that
serious doubt existed as to the validity of Anglican orders, and
adopted the only course by which defect in those orders could
be removed.

Moreover, the force of the argument, drawn from the tenor
of these instructions, is all the greater when we recall the char-
acter of Cardinal Pole and his intimate knowledge of the situa-
tion in all its details. A man of deep piety and wide exper-
ience, animated by a sincere love of country and of religion,
whatever could have been conceded the cardinal would surely
have granted. His holiness, his sweetness, his very diplomacy
are in evidence as to this. But his decision was unfavorable.
His action, therefore, in this matter of vital interest to the
English clergy and the English people, was based upon a judg-
ment formed after a full consideration of all the facts, and
was prompted by the dictates of an enlightened and upright
conscience.

PAPAL UTTERANCES.

These instructions to Cardinal Pole are most important utter-
ances of the Holy See on this subject. Confirmation, moreover,
has been given to them in the decision rendered in the case of
Dr. Gordon, the Protestant bishop of Galloway, who was received
into the Catholic Church in the beginning of the last century.
The Holy See was asked for an opinion concerning the orders
of this Anglican prelate, and Clement XI. in a decree dated
April 17, 1704, decided against their validity.

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? 677

Nor should the severe condemnation of M. Le Courayer,
canon of St. Genevieve, be overlooked or undervalued in a
sincere effort to arrive at the mind of Rome. This learned
French ecclesiastic published a treatise in support of the valid-
ity of Anglican orders in which he maintained that the rite, as
well as the power of conferring holy orders in the Church of
England, was sound.

Oxford applauded, and bestowed upon this new champion
the degree of doctor of divinity. The royal favor and bounty
were displayed in the gift of a considerable pension. But Car-
dinal De Noailles, Archbishop of Paris and ordinary of the
distinguished author, ordered a retractation — which, however,
could not be obtained from the canon. All else failing, Bene-
dict XIII., on the 25th of June, 1728, condemned the work as
containing propositions which were " false, scandalous, erro-
neous, and heretical."

This attitude of the Holy See has been emphasized by the
universal custom of treating as simple laymen those clergymen
of the Church of England who have embraced the Catholic
faith.

To such of these converts as desired to enter and were
called to the ecclesiastical state the sacraments of confirmation
and order have been invariably administered absolutely, and
generally even conditional baptism has been received by them.
The manifest conclusion from these premises is that the judg-
ment of the church as evidenced in her instructions and prac-
tice has hitherto been unfavorable to the Anglican claim. We
shall now view the question from the historical stand-point.

NEED OF APOSTOLIC SUCCESSION.

All who would argue for the validity of Anglican orders are
agreed in admitting the necessity of the apostolic succession.
Unless he who ministers holy orders has himself received orders
from one who is a successor of the apostles, his acts are
without effect as far as conferring sacramental power is con-
cerned.

Dr. Parker is confessedly the source whence the orders of
the Church of England have been derived. His consecration
as a bishop should be, therefore, a matter beyond dispute. No
shadow of doubt should rest upon that fact, for even specula-
tive doubt would beget practical certainty as to the defect of
apostolic succession.

But is it certain that Matthew Parker was a bishop ? We
need not concern ourselves now as to his fitness for the office.

678 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? [Aug.,

We need not dwell upon his character, nor recall that he was
prominent in that group of which Dr. Littledale writes in his
lecture on " Innovations," that "documents hidden from the pub-
lic eye for centuries in the archives of London, Vienna, and
Simancas are now rapidly being printed, and every fresh find
establishes more clearly the utter scoundrelism of the reform-
ers." Nor is it necessary to know the depth of his degradation
in being the creature of Cranmer, "the most abject, servile
tool that ever twisted or turned to the winds of royal caprice."
Neither need we weigh the doubtful honor that Elizabeth — her
father's child, a Tudor from head to foot — was his patron and
advanced him to the primatial see in consideration of his ser-
vices in the capacity of chaplain to Anne Boleyn, her mother,
and to herself.

We can ignore, too, his venality in turning his exalted, sacred
office — he the reformer, the purifier of doctrine and of practice I
—to his own account in a shameless traffic in holy things. We
can even forget that Froude says that " he (Parker) had left
behind him enormous wealth, which had been accumulated, as
is proved from a statement in the handwriting of his successor,
by the same unscrupulous practices which had brought about
the first revolt against the church. He had been corrupt in
the distribution of his own patronage, and he had sold his in-
terest with others. Every year he made profits by admitting
children to the cure of souls for money. He used a graduated
scale, in which the price for inducting an infant into a benefice
varied with the age ; children under fourteen not being inad-
missible if the adequate fees were forthcoming."

All these things and more to his discredit would not, indeed,
have made him less a bishop, nor curtailed his absolute power
of exercising his apostolic order had he obtained consecration.
But what proof have we that he ever received that plenitude
of the priesthood ? — what proof that brings with it moral cer-
tainty ?

PARKER'S CONSECRATION.

In the directions given for the consecration of Archbishop
Parker it was laid down that the order of King Edward's book
should be used, and that letters-patent should "be directed to
any other archbishop within the king's dominions. If all be
vacant, to four bishops, to be appointed by the queen's letters-
patent." Lord Burleigh wrote, " There is no archbishop nor
four bishops now to be had." The Catholic bishops were in
prison or in exile.

Had the Catholic hierarchy of England acquiesced in the

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 679

design of Queen Elizabeth to make her bishops "something
like " the Catholic bishops of the rest of Christendom, and
"yet different"; had they assented to her claim of supremacy,
Dr. Parker would have had no difficulty in finding a consecra-
tor. But all, save the aged Dr. Kitchen, Bishop of Llandaff,
positively refused to take the oath of supremacy, and it is
doubtful whether even he took it. The last we hear of him is
that he hesitated. He could not make up his mind to sign,
although he was willing to obey in so far as to administer the
oath to others.

Let his feebleness of mind and body be his excuse. His
brethren of the bishop's bench chose prison or exile rather than
submission. And the royal hand fell heavily upon them because
they preferred to obey God rather than man. " The Marian
bishops," writes Bishop Jewel in P'ebruary, 1562, "are still
confined in the Tower, and going on in their old way. They
are an obstinate and untamed set of men, but are nevertheless
subdued by terror and the sword." The only lawful bishop at
liberty was, therefore, Dr. Kitchen, but it is certain that he
refused to consecrate Dr. Parker. Richard Creagh, Primate of
all Ireland, was a prisoner at the time in the Tower, and an
offer of freedom is said to have been made to him if he would
but act as consecrator; but this prelate also indignantly
declined.

The difficulty, however, is supposed to have been removed
by William Barlow, Bishop elect of Chichester. The Lambeth
register has an entry showing that Dr. Parker was consecrated
on Sunday, December 17, 1559, in the palace chapel by Bishop
Barlow, assisted by John Scorey, elect of Hereford, John
Hodgkins, Suffragan of Bedford, and Miles Coverdale, of
Exeter.

This record, it has been maintained, is a forgery. The
register was only unearthed in 1613, fifty years and more after
the date of the elevation of Parker to the throne of Canter-
bury. During the fierce controversy waged over the fact of
his consecration in the years immediately following the an
nouncement of it in 1559, when the story of the ceremony at
the Nag's Head was flaunted in the face of the adherents of the
reformation, there is a rather suspicious silence as to this
register. What more effectual answer than this record could
there have been to the pamphlet of John Hollywood, with its
detailed account purporting to come from an eye-witness?

Although the kingdom was filled with rumors that the
mockery so circumstantially narrated in the pamphlet had taken

68o ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? [Aug.,

place ; although the statements made therein were accepted by
a large portion of the public as true; although the publication
of the consecration did not satisfy a large number who per-
sisted in calling the bishops of the new order of things "par-
liament bishops " ; still the all-important record was not produced
until fifty years had passed away. Viewed as a historical event,
is Parker's consecration, then, so sure that the orders of a whole
•church may safely rest upon him ?

Even if the Nag's Head consecration be a myth, and the
forgery of the Lambeth register an invention of heated con-
troversy, is it yet certain that Archbishop Parker was indeed a
bishop of apostolic succession? What does it avail the
Anglican claim that Parker trampled under foot canons of
general councils and forced his way through broken laws to
the seat of St. Augustine ? What if the bishop who enthroned
him was himself no bishop? And who consecrated Barlow?
And what did Barlow care about consecration at best ?
William Barlow is the link between the old order and new in
the Church of England, and his power to transmit the apostolic
succession should be beyond question if the Anglican claim
would stand.

WAS BARLOW EVER CONSECRATED?

Parker's claim to consecration is upheld by the Lambeth
register, but no official record whatever gives support to Barlow.
Authentic history knows not the day nor the hour of his con-
secration. Cranmer's record is silent, documentary evidence is
absent, credible testimony is wanting. The most material fact
in the argument for Anglican orders is doubtful because the
consecration of Barlow is not proved. A bishop elect exercises
jurisdiction after he has presented his bulls to the administrator
of his see, but he remains what he was previous to his elec-
tion, as far as the power of order is concerned.

It is certain that Barlow was a monk, a priest, a bishop
elect. That he was consecrated still remains to be proved.
Barlow's antecedents make proof imperative in his case. A
negative argument drawn from the absence of a record would
not have great weight had the " elect of Chichester " been a
man of Catholic mind. But Barlow was an Erastian in doc-
trine. " If the king's grace," he said, " being supreme head of
the Church of England, did choose, denominate, and elect any
layman, being learned, to be a bishop, that layman would be
as good a bishop as himself or the best in England."

He lived by the breath of his sovereign's nostrils. After
the king had "studied better," and changed his mind concern-

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 68 r

ing the Papal supremacy in favor of which he had written in
1521, and, as Mr. Brewer says, had set up " a headship without
a precedent and at variance with all tradition," he looked
about for instruments to aid him in effecting his purpose of
separating the English Church from the centre of unity. Bar-
low become on a sudden a most zealous Protestant, was named
first Bishop of St. Asaph, then of St. David's, and later of the
richer See of Bath and Wells.

Here his gratitude to his master nearly cost him his head.
It occurred to him that the king would be pleased with a
series of tracts ridiculing the Mass, Purgatory, and other leading
Catholic doctrines. But instead of meriting praise for his de-
votion to the new religion, he aroused the wrath of the king,
who was no lover of heresies except those of his own devising.
Barlow saved his life and his see by an abject apology and
retractation as fulsome in professions of attachment to the
ancient church as he had been lavish in abuse of her doctrines
in his tracts. When Queen Mary ascended the throne he found
it convenient to depart into Germany, where he remained until
Elizabeth began to reign. Then he returned to England and
was made the "elect of Chichester." His irreverent and shifty
character was so notorious that even his associates in heresy
could place no reliance upon him.

Do we ask too much when we demand proof of the conse-
cration of one so Erastian, so vacillating, so steeped in
German Protestantism ? Are not Anglicans unfortunate in the
link so necessary in the chain? Barlow expressed himself as
content with the king's appointment to a see, and there is no
evidence he ever sought more than the royal favor or asked or
obtained episcopal consecration. Yet this evidence is absolutely
necessary to remove doubt.

No man was ever fairer to an adversary than Cardinal
Newman, none more ready to admit a solid argument advanced
by an opponent than he. Yet he has written of the Anglican
Church: "As to its possession of episcopal succession from the
time of the Apostles, it may have it, and if the Holy See ever
so decided, I will believe it as being a decision of a higher
judgment than my own ; but for myself, I must have St.
Philip's gift, who saw the sacerdotal character on the head of a
gaily attired youngster, before I can by my own wit acquiesce
in it."

In a subsequent article the theological grounds of the
Anglican claims will be considered.

THE OLD GOVERNMENT HOUSE.

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

'HE peregrinatory character of New York is now
well established. In a land where houses are
sometimes built on wheels it is not considered
wonderful that a city should be constantly shift-
ing its ground. Mountains often take it into
their heads to look out for new camping sites. In Ireland the
bogs frequently display a similar proclivity. To be stationary
means to stagnate, and that is not the American habit. When
we wax fat we like to kick and to get plenty of room to do it.
We are now beholding a phase of New York development.
It is worth beholding, for probably ere another generation shall
have come it will have vanished, and something more marvel-
lous taken its place. In some countries it is said vegetation is
so energetic that you can see and hear the grass growing.
New York is built much after that fashion. You can see the
city on the move, and springing up as it goes along.

When it was in the protoplasmic state the city was content
with the few yards of ground below the Bowling-green. The
Indians outside the palisading could hurl a javelin across the

1 896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

683

whole establishment. New Amsterdam did not ambition to own
the earth, but the Saturnian reign of the Van Corlears and the
Stuyvesants came to an end when the horde of English, Irish,
and Scotch began to pour into the island of Manna-hata.
Where stood the forest primeval now stand the serried ranks
of the sky-scrapers, and the noble red man is only to be seen
in front of the cigar-stores. With the change of name New
York has gone in for " everything in sight," and now wants
more as well. It is presently busy at work hammering out its
scheme of enlarged city government, and its greatest difficulty
probably will be the finding of a new name. It has not been
happy hitherto in its nomenclature. Borrowing names from
the old world is decidedly stupid and un-American. The abo-
riginal name, Manhattan, was euphony compared with New Am-
sterdam ; while New York suffers from a redundancy of liquid

CITY HALL PARK FIFTY YEARS AGO.

vowels. As for the stop-gap, Greater New York, it is not for
a moment to be thought of. After all, there is something in a
name. Our greatest city ought to be called after our greatest
man, but, unfortunately, another capital less great already
claims the coveted title.

684

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

[Aug.,

There is absolutely no parallel for the rate of expansion of
this great city. London has spread steadily out year by year,
but New York leaps into the heart of the country again and
again, taking strides with seven-league boots, so to speak, and

1 4

ALEXANDER HAMILTON'S TREE.

laying down urban lines in places which were yesterday daisy-
prinked meadows or rugged stretches of rocky wilderness. But
it is not alone an expansion which is going on in New York ;
it is a transformation. It is curious to look at a print of New
York, or its outskirts, of, say, fifty years ago, and contrast the
buildings then standing with those which are being put up to-
day. Everywhere it was the mean-looking, ugly wooden shanty
perched on top of a hill, very often to make its bare ugliness
the more conspicuous. To-day the hill is levelled and the

1896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

685

houses are immense and imposing in architectural style. The
country is being levelled as the city is being built. This is
altogether a modern idea. In the old days it never occurred
to men to level hills where they wanted to build a city ; they
simply built on them.

If this plan secured the quality of picturesqueness, it did
not contribute toward the facilitating of business. Business is
the raison d'etre of a city ; and the American idea of placing
this view before all others is perfectly in accordance with the
historical side of the question. From the aesthetic side, too,

WEAK BEGINNINGS.

there is something to be urged on behalf of the level plain as
a site for a great metropolis. The splendid vistas and stately
lengths which delight the eye, even where the broad thorough-
fares are swarming with people and throbbing with commerce,
are impossible in a city of billowy surface. Cities perched on
precipitous rocks suggest banditti and mediaeval insecurity. We
VOL. LXIII.— 44

686 THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY. [Aug.,

like to flatter ourselves that these accompaniments of urban
and suburban life are things of the past, though our daily
paper tells us we are only hugging a pleasing delusion.

It is not to be forgotten that the first recorded visit of a
white man to the shores of Manhattan was that of a gentle-
man connected with an enterprising firm of corsairs. He was
a navigator and traveller of some note, named Verrazano.
Whether he joined the pirate ship from necessity or from pre-
dilection is matter for conjecture. His ship entered the waters
of the bay in the year 1524, and he sent some boats up the
Hudson, where his men found a kindly reception from the
Indians along the banks. Despite this mistaken hospitality, the
Indians were left alone until 1611, when the Dutch, having
heard of the fine bay and river, and the furry denizens of
their shores, from Henry Hudson, sent out two commissioners,
named Block and Christiansen, to establish a trade with the
red men. They began operations at Albany, by building a fort
which they called Nassau ; and then they set up a cluster of
log huts at the southern end of Manhattan, at the spot marked
now by No. 45 Broadway ; and thus the tradition that Albany
takes precedence of New York may be traced to a veritable
source. Other great cities have their origin clouded in legen-
dary uncertainty ; New York is above all such adventitious aids
to distinction. She is a matter-of-fact American lady who dis-
cards rouge and face-powder, and is content to stand on her
own good looks and a well-defined respectable parentage.

It was Commissioner Block who seems to have discovered
that Nassau, or Albany, was not the place, after all, for the
planting of a city and a trade, for he was not long in New
Amsterdam before he built a tight little vessel which he called
The Restless. Thus were the foundations of a city and a com-
merce laid at the same time, in a very modest way, by the
shrewd and enterprising Dutchmen. Then arose a tiny fortress
to protect the trade of New Amsterdam, a log-house where
the Battery, or rather the Aquarium, now stands. The Dutch
government granted a charter to a couple of trading com-
panies, and these brought out some immigrants. Then came a
governor, Peter Minuit, and it is to be observed that his first
official act was to go through the formality of buying the
island from the natives. The price paid for Manhattan was
exactly twenty-four dollars, or beads and other gimcracks to
that amount. This policy was always followed by the Dutch
settlers in their dealings with the Indians, and it was success-

1896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

687

ful in throwing the guileless natives off their guard. Other
Dutchmen came, with whom the Indians found it necessary to
deal vi et armis, and matters grew so hot about New Amster-
dam that the governor was compelled to import troops from
Holland, erect a stone wall across the island, and fortify his

AN OLD-TIME "STORE."

position generally. New Amsterdam, however, was not satis-
fied to be cooped up in a corner thus, and even under Dutch
rule it gradually began to dispute the title of the four-footed
bears who then prowled in the region of Wall Street and the
wolves of the non-usurious species who made night hideous
along the lines of Broadway and the Bowery. Even the Dutch
had a faint glimmering of the splendid possibilities of the
place, for it is on record that the merchants of old Amsterdam,
at a Chamber meeting, prophesied of the new city that when its
ships rode upon every ocean numbers then looking with eager
eyes toward it would be tempted to embark to settle there.

But no increase of note took place in the new settlement,
such as to give hope of the accuracy of this vaticination, until
the year 1663. Then Great Britain, by one of those superb
strokes of thievery which raise the corsairship of Verrazano to
the dignity of a great imperial policy, suddenly put in an

688

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

[Aug.,

appearance in New York and told the Dutch commander to
"git." Governor Stuyvesant, seeing in the act nothing of a
commercial nature such as gave the Dutch their title — not even
an offer of recompense for the twenty-four dollars' worth of
beads and buttons — said he would rather be carried out dead
than submit ; but, as his martial spirit was not shared in by
the burghers, he was forced to give up the fort and retire to
his Sabine farm on the Bowery. There was no law of nations
strong enough at that time to punish Great Britain for this

WAIT FOR THE BLAST.

piece of buccaneering, but there was something germinating in
the garden of the future that might have consoled Governor
Stuyvesant as he indignantly smoked his pipe in his Bowery
plaisance. There was to be a day of reckoning. Even-handed
justice, a hundred years after, commended the poisoned chalice

1896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

689

to her own lips, when every inch of territory claimed on this
continent by Great Britain was transferred by the law of con-
quest to the free American people.

At the close of the War of Independence New York
stretched up as far as the City Hall Park. Beyond this bound-
ary lay a common on which stood an alms-house, a house of
correction, and a gallows. There was no City Hall there then ;

AT FORT GEORGE.

the older building stood at the corner of Wall and Broad
Streets, and it was there that Washington was sworn in as
first President of the United States. Where the present City
Hall stands he had, thirteen years before, in the centre of a
square of American bayonets, had the Declaration of Inde-
pendence read to the public and the citizen army by an aide-
de-camp who had a good pair of lungs. New York lost no
time in starting out on its own account, in imitation of all the
colonies, from that day.

Beyond the Common lay the vast semi-feudal estates of the
great Dutch millionaires, the Patroons. At Astor Place the
upper end of Broadway came to a dead stop, being crossed at
right angles by the high wall of the Randall farm ; but the
inhabited part of the thoroughfare did not extend beyond
Anthony Street. There was no wharfage on the East River
shore beyond Rutgers Street, nor at the North River beyond
Harrison Street. Greenwich Village stood where Greenwich
Avenue now winds, and Chelsea Village around the region of

690

THE ETOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

[Aug.,

West Twenty-third Street. About where Central Park now
smiles there lay a couple of other villages fresh in the mem-
ory of many still living — Bloomingdale and Yorkville. In 1830
the population of the city was 202,000 ; the returns of the last
census nearly twice quintupled that number.

But the enormous expansion of the city which we are now
daily witnessing did not really begin until some fifty years ago.
Then immigration came with a rush ; and ever since the ever-
increasing volume of it resulted in some very undesirable
architectural conditions. With all the evils of overcrowding
and privation of air and light, the Board of Health has kept
up the fight against disease so well that New York's death-rate
now reaches only to about twenty-two per one thousand per-
sons annually, being next to
London the most favorably
circumstanced in this regard
of all the great cities. But it
must be borne in mind that
it is only by dint of incessant
vigilance on the part of the
Argus-eyed Health Board, and
the splendid co-operation of
philanthropic societies not to

ON THE UPPER BOULEVARD.

be matched for zeal and efficiency outside New York, that this
gratifying condition for the public weal is maintained. We
must not forget that should we be visited by a dangerous epi-
demic, and should this laudable state of vigilance be relaxed

1896.] THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY. 691

SCENES ON THE HARLEM RIVER

692

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

[Aug.,

for a moment, there exist conditions such as must render
whole districts an easy prey to pestilence.

In a former article some of the evils of the tenement-house
system were, all too feebly perhaps, endeavored to be pointed
out. These evils still exist. The building of tenement-houses
goes on incessantly, and the same stupid policy of covering
almost the whole of the available ground with the dwelling-
fabric is being obstinately pursued. There is no city in the
world outside where the children are driven into the streets as
they are in New York, through the horrible greed of the
speculating landlords. All the side streets and less frequented
avenues literally swarm with children young and old, after the
day's schooling and the day's work is over. They are the
plague of existence to the passers-by and the store-keepers, but
it is not the children's fault. They have nowhere to play but
in the street. There is a constant interfiltration thus going on
between the vicious children and those who do not belong to
the vicious classes. Parents have no safeguards for their

WASHINGTON BRIDGE.

children after school hours. The best of them are perfectly
helpless as long as this unnatural system of driving those child-
ren into the street is persevered in. It is worthy only of a
barbarous people.

1896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

Will it be too much to hope that this grave and most per-
turbing subject may be considered now that New York has
begun a new and mighty stage in her municipal development?
The barons at Runnymede had hardly a more onerous work on
hand than they in drawing up the new charter for the metro-
polis of the New World. Their powers under the State Con-

>» •• -Tv«^*«. -> »' - -^>. . -

MANHATTANVILLE BEFORE THE FIRE.

stitution are, saving the general laws of the States Federation,
plenary. Will they, while respecting the rights of landlords and
millionaire speculators, remember that the people whom that
class has so ruthlessly trodden under foot have the right to
live as decent human beings? Will they remember that there
is a higher law than that of private right, the interest of the
public safety and the collective conscience of a Christian com-
munity, which demands that the process of undoing the work
of the school and the church be no longer suffered to go on
nightly in the swarming side streets of New York ?

In the deep-rooted antipathy of the people to the principle
of paternalism in government lies the great opportunity of the
acute trafficker in human misery. In the great cities of Eng-
land, the efforts of the philanthropist to provide decent housing
for the people having proved insufficient, recourse was freely
had to municipal and .governmental powers. Modern legisla-
tion has given much freedom to municipal bodies in borrowing
public money at nominal interest for the erection of artisans'
dwellings, public baths, libraries, reading-rooms, etc. Under the
operation of this salutary sort of " paternalism," as it is not
very appropriately called, the change which has come over the
conditions of living in most of the great English and Scottish
cities is little short of magical. Miles upon miles of pretty

694

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

[Aug.,

suburban houses, with trim gardens front and rear, make the
outskirts of London, Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, and
other places delightful to the eye and gratifying to the heart.
Looking at these places, and contrasting them with the sur-
roundings of the working population in the Black Country, or
the same manufacturing towns only a brief while ago, one can-
not help exclaiming : " Here is civilization at last — here wis-
dom ! " Want of space has hitherto been the excuse for the
abominable pest-inviting overcrowding of New York. Want of
space cannot stand much longer as a plea. The area now
swept into the ambit of New York is immense. How to utilize
it all will be the problem now. And it is to be most earnestly
hoped that the first attention of the commission shall be de-

AMSTERDAM AVENUE.

voted to this vital question of domiciles for the toilers. The
munificent benefactors who supplied Rome with water were
deemed worthy of divine honors by the people. Those who
shall solve the problem of the decent housing of the population
of New York will deserve to live in grateful remembrance no
less than the Trajans and the Antonines.

Inseparable from this problem, and not less pressing in its

1896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

695

urgency, is that of transit over the whole metropolitan area.
Here the question of paternalism versus monopoly comes sharply
in. A step has been taken in the direction of wise paternalism
by the vote of the people for the construction of a rapid tran-

ROAD, RAIL, AND RIVER.

sit system, but law has been enabled to save monopoly for the
present by neutralizing the popular will. We might usefully
take a lesson from other places. "They manage this matter
better in France."

Under a Republican government the city of Paris is allowed
to have its economic affairs administered by the municipality,
save in regard to its fire department. The pompiers, being all
military men, are under the general rules of military service.
But apart from this, -the municipality is the authority in all
public matters. It regulates the intra-mural railway and omni-
bus charges and the car fares, and lays down the routes for all
lines of traffic. For convenience and cheapness of transporta-
tion there is no city better arranged than the gay French capi-
tal. Around the whole city runs the ceinture railway, forming
a pretty regular circle, and the street-car lines operate inside
of this like the spokes of a wheel, so to speak. Three centimes
is the fare for the outside of these cars, four inside. By the

696

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

[Aug.,

system of correspondances — that is, transfer tickets — a passenger
can travel the whole day upon the various street-car lines, if
he need to do so, for the one fare. On the Seine there is a
splendid service of swift steamers called the Hirondelles. On
these the fare to all points around the city is five centimes, be
the distance small or great. The surface cars and the steamboats
are worked by the same company, and they have no choice in
the matter of fares, for these are fixed and unalterable. So
with regard to the coach and cab service. The fares for these
are dictated by the municipal authority, and it is the provision
of the law that every cocker, on taking up a passenger, shall
exhibit his fare-table. This is an inflexible rule, and any in-
fraction of it involves the loss of the cocker s license without
power of appeal or recovery. At least such was the state of
affairs in Paris a few years ago.

In London the question of transportation for its teeming
millions has been solved by private enterprise. The vast net-
work of the underground railway system connects with the
countless suburban lines at convenient points, and by this means

CROTON AQUEDUCT GATE-HOUSE.

the great bulk of the suburban population find facilities for
coming and going to their daily work. Street cars are not
permitted save in the outlying thoroughfares, but there is a
perfect multitude of 'busses and swarms of cabs. The omni-
buses number probably twelve or thirteen thousand. The fares
on all these are exceedingly low, going down even to one half-
penny— that is to say, a cent. For a half-penny one gets a
ride of half a mile, across Westminster or Waterloo Bridge.
From all the central railway termini there are penny fares by
which the traveller can reach any place within a couple of
miles. Two pence is the usual fare for a journey of from four

1896.]

THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT CITY.

697

to five miles, and three pence for the most distant suburbs, on
street car or omnibus. On the Thames the steamer service is
most convenient, and quite as attractive in point of cheapness.
There is no reason why the Hudson and the East River should
not be utilized quite as freely as the Seine, the Thames, and
the Mersey for the relief of the crowded traffic of New York.
The framers of a charter cannot alter the methods and tastes
of a people, nor lay down a policy in government. In mechani-
cal aids to living Americans justly pride themselves as not being
behind the age, and the modes of transportation in Paris and
London might not be entitled to a first place in their regard.
But there may be something in the systems on which the
important question of transportation is daily solved in those
and other great cities which ought not to be above their con-
sideration. The zonal system in Austria-Hungary ought, too,
to be inquired into. So much depends upon an enlightened
solution of the problem in connection with our new start in
municipal life, that every means of settling it wisely ought to
be taken ere a decision be come to. So finely interwoven is
the morality of a great population with the facts of their ma-
terial life and their physical atmosphere, that those who lay
down the lines of government for a vast metropolis are charged
with a responsibility little inferior to that devolving on the
guardians of its spiritual interests.

As a precursor volume, let us hope, to an am-
pler biography, Rev. Patrick Cronin, of Buffalo, has
published a Memorial of the lamented Bishop Ryan,
of that diocese.* As a review of the chief incidents
in a very memorable life, and the impressive scenes
which marked the mourning for its close, this souvenir of the
great ' bishop will be welcomed by the Catholic public. But
Father Cronin does not offer us the work by any means as a
biography. Even the powers of a graceful and mellifluous pen
could never present a life so long bound up with the spiritual
and intellectual development of a great progressive diocese, in
an age of marvellous growth, within the compass of six score
pages. Into the details of the deceased prelate's daily life —
those details that make up the sum of our earthly travail, but
are, after all, only the filling in of noble outlines and majestic
purposes — he does not take the reader. But he sketches, in a
few easy, graphic numbers, the salient features of an episcopate
which was coincident with the rapid rise of his diocesan capi-
tal into a splendid city, a hive of manly industry, and a centre
of warm Catholic piety. The many beautiful portraits and
plates of ecclesiastical and charitable buildings with which the
volume is interspersed give proof of the highest skill in the en-
graving and machine departments of the publishing firm ; and
it ought to be added that the typography and bookbinding are
equally creditable.

Cardinal Satolli, in whose mission to this country the de-
parted prelate took a most active interest, has given his warm
commendation to this souvenir work, and hopes that the lessons
of a great life which it sets before the world may find the ap-
preciation of a wide circle of readers.

The history of Armenia under Turkish rule is a necessary

* Memorial of the Life and Labors of Right Rev. Stephen Vincent Ryan, D.D., C.M., sec-
ond Bishop of Buffalo, N. Y. By Rev. Patrick Cronin, LL.D. Buffalo, N. Y.: Buffalo Cath-
olic Publication Company.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 699

thing to-day ; too much cannot be done to enlighten the world
on the enormities which the Sultan and Lord Salisbury are en-
deavoring to hide away. But we do not like to see that his-
tory presented in a way which seems intended to provoke reli-
gious controversy. This, it appears to us, the new work on
Armenia,* by Rev. George H. Filian, an Armenian priest, is
eminently calculated to do. He presents us with a number of
statements concerning the origin and status of the schismatic
Armenian Church which are remarkable for their ingenious sup-
pression of the truth, as well as for their bold presentation of
truth's antithesis. The phrase " Nestorian heresy " is never
mentioned in the brief sketch of church history contained in
the book. • But this bold attempt at suppression is a trifle com-
pared with the clumsy inconsistencies which are embodied in
some of the positive statements. Gregory the Illuminator is
relied on as the founder of the church in Armenia, and it is
then asserted that the church he founded was an independent
and separate body, as much as the Greek or the Roman Catho-
lic Church. To perpetrate this bungling misstatement the writer
is compelled to invert the historical order of things. There was
but one church when Gregory started on his mission, and that had
its head in Rome. It was with an apostolic approbation from
Rome in his pocket that the great missionary set out upon his
task. The designations Roman Catholic and Greek Catholic
did not come into use until many centuries after the founda-
tion of the Armenian branch of the church ; but the result of
the Nestorian schism certainly justifies the author in claiming
for his church the distinction of being the first " Protestant "
one. A characteristic mark of the church to which the author
belongs, he endeavors to show, is an indifference on the sub-
ject of dogmatic theology. Its bishops avoided such difficulties
as the dual nature of the Saviour and the procession of the
Holy Ghost by saying they were of no importance ; " they did
not care " — these are his words — whence the Holy Spirit pro-
ceeded. It is enough to provoke a smile, after this admission,
to find the author boasting that he studied theology in three
different universities. When bishops " have no use " for theol-
ogy, it looks a little odd to find priests wasting their valuable
youth over the subject.

Referring to the Armenian Catholicos, the author says " he
is considered to be fallible," being removable, if not found satis-

* Armenia and Her People. By the Rev. George H. Filian. Hartford, Conn.: American
Publishing Company

700 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

factory, by the mixed episcopal and lay body who elect him ;
but " he is a presiding bishop." This assertion is suggestive of
a dim perception that infallibility ought to be a characteristic
of " an independent church," but when a fixed theology is of
no consequence, the function of infallibility must necessarily
seem a superfluous attribute. And yet it seems, after all Mr.
Filian's mosaic of explanations is got through, that under the
pretence of no theology he has been treating us to some re-
markable specimens of a new and startling departure in that
science.

Other strange things there are in this history that do not
help to raise our respect for the type of Armenian character
which the author represents. His adulation for everything
English and Protestant would seem to make him out as of the
Scotch-Irish breed rather than the astute oriental ; while his
rabies against Catholicism is as pronounced as that of the most
red-hot follower of the arch-traducer Traynor. Perhaps this is
his idea of good gospel Christianity in practice. Considering
the fact that it is Protestant England which has permitted and
encouraged the sultan to butcher and outrage his countrymen
and countrywomen, the admonition to " love your enemies " is
carried to the point of sublimity by this patriotic Armenian
cleric.

A distinctive mark of the poetry of the late Robert Louis Ste-
venson was a striving at laconism. We say striving, for the
workmanship of his poems required careful selection in the
materials. Monosyllables and diphthongal tools were his chief
delight, the Celtic and Anglo-Saxon strains in the English
tongue yielding him the richest materials. This predilection,
and a certain habit of fantastic play of fancy, at times disdain-
ful of congruity or fitness, proclaim the connoisseur in phrase-
ology rather than the spontaneous poet. In the desire to avoid
redundancy, plainly evident in all his verse, the effect is to
lend an appearance of primness and Calvinistic severity to his
work — as though his Muse preferred an octagonal lyre to one
whose sides revealed the line of beauty and the richness of ap-
propriate ornamentation. The offset for this trait was the
wonderfully fecund power of fancy and the recondite lore of
many lands with which the wandering novelist's mind was
freighted. In a new issue of his poetical works (containing
some forty pieces in addition to those in the previous edition)
we discern the irregularity of power and the inequality of work

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 701

due, no doubt, in part, to a too great solicitude for uniformity
in quantity of his word-materials, and to an inequality in the
writer's own mental moods, which he to some extent confesses
in the after-word (if this phrase be a correct one in the new
literary jargon) at the end of the volume.* Nor can the reader
fail to notice an inequality in the writer's spiritual strivings as
well. Whatever Stevenson's early impressions of religion, this
side of his nature appears to have suffered a metamorphosis in
the course of his long Odyssey. Doubt and cynicism mark his
expressions on the working of Divine Providence at times ;
again, we find whole-souled confession of the duty of the human
soul to rely on God's goodness while nobly doing that which
comes to one's hands to do — the true note of the brave Chris-
tian pilgrim. Anon, despite his chivalrous defence of the Cath-
olic priest against his own narrow-minded and selfish Calvinistic
co-religionists, we find him venting his feelings against the
monastic life in a poem that might have been expected of the
age of John Knox rather than that of Montalembert. This is
the only case in which we find any trace of the microscopic
mind and the ungenerous surmise at things not fully intelligible
even to the poetical mind which we find in Stevenson.

Perhaps his most pleasing poetical work is to be found in
the part of the volume called "A Child's Garden of Verse."
Very delicate and quaint-sounding echoes from elfin-land seem
to quiver in many of these shells culled from the boundless
shore of fancy, but yet not so catchy for the youthful heart as
the work of that great past-master, Eugene Field. Still they
are more natural — more like the rhymes which real children sing
and the odd fears and fancies with which the little budding
mind is packed. Here are a couple of typical examples :

WINDY NIGHTS.

Whenever the moon and stars are set,

Whenever the wind is high,
All night long, in the dark and wet,

A man goes riding by.
Late in the night, when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about ?

Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,

* Poems and Ballads. By Robert Louis Stevenson. New York : Charles Scribner's
Sons.

VOL. LXIII.— 45

702 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

By, on the highway, low and loud,

By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again.

PIRATE STORY.

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,

Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,

And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,

Wary of the weather and steering by a star ?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,

To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar?

Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea —
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar !

Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
The wicket is the harbor and the garden is the shore.

Perhaps the work of the maturer sort most free from the
"pale cast of thought" and pessimistic melancholy is a fine
piece of blank verse called "Not Yet, My Soul":

Not yet, my soul, these friendly fields desert,
Where thou with grass, and rivers, and the breeze,
And the bright face of day, thy dalliance hadst ;
Where to thine ear first sang the enraptured birds ;
Where love and thou that lasting bargain made.
The ship rides trimmed, and from the eternal shore
Thou hearest airy voices ; but not yet
Depart, my soul, .not yet awhile depart.

Freedom is far, rest far. Thou art with life

Too closely woven, nerve with nerve intwined ;

Service still craving service, love for love,

Love for dear love, still suppliant with tears.

Alas, not yet thy human task is done !

A bond at birth is forged ; a debt doth lie

Immortal on mortality. It grows —

By vast rebound it grows, unceasing growth ;

Gift upon gift, alms upon alms, upreared,

From man, from God, from nature, till the soul

At that so huge indulgence stands amazed.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 703

Leave not, my soul, the unfoughten field, nor leave

Thy debts dishonored, nor thy place desert

Without due service rendered. For thy life,

Up, spirit ! and defend that fort of clay,

Thy body, now beleaguered ; whether soon

Or late she fall ; whether to-day thy friends

Bewail thee dead, or after years, a man

Grown old in honor and the friend of peace.

Contend, my soul, for moments and for hours ;

Each is with service pregnant ; each reclaimed

Is as a kingdom conquered, where to reign.

As when a captain rallies to the fight

His scattered legions, and beats ruin back,

He, on the field, encamps, well pleased in mind.

Yet surely him shall fortune overtake,

Him smite in turn, headlong his ensigns drive ;

And that dear land, now safe, to-morrow fall.

But he, unthinking, in the present good

Solely delights, and all the camps rejoice.

We have received from Messrs. Macmillan & Co. vol. viii.
of Pepys Diary* The author, for some reason not yet ascer-
tained, abruptly laid down his pen at the conclusion of this
volume, just at the point where it was beginning to become
most valuable from an historical point of view, owing to the
trend of events at the time, and the intimate knowledge of the
inner life of those who swayed the political world in England.
Pepys himself furnishes a reason for the discontinuance of his
short-hand notes, in the failing condition of his eye-sight ; but
in the same passage he intimates his intention of continuing
his narrative in long-hand by the help of others, but on a more
reserved basis, leaving room for marginal commentary by him-
self, in short-hand. But this design, there is reason to believe,
he never carried out ; at least no trace of any such record is as
yet forthcoming. It was the author's intention to write a
history of the Navy, owing to the great facilities his position
at the Admiralty afforded him ; and this design, too, he seems
to have relinquished for some good reason. In the present
volume there are two excellent plates in mezzotint — a copy of
Greenhill's portrait of the ill-favored debauchee, Charles II., and
one of the cicerone who introduced him to the English Parlia-

* The Diary of Samuel Pepys, M.A., F.R.S. Edited by Henry B. Wheatley, F.S.A.
Vol. viii. London : George Bell & Sons ; New York : Macmillan & Co.

704 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

ment on the occasion history has made memorable — George
Monk, Duke of Albemarle. An astute, stolicj man, by the way,
the same duke looks in his portrait ; and his costume reveals
his character. It consists of the buff surcoat of the Round-
head, with plain leathern sword-belt, with the puffed and gold-
braided sleeves of the Cavalier, frilled lace collar and cuffs, and
rich ducal ribbon and ornamented baldric. In his hand he
grasps a marshal's bdton, with which, from the serious and
calculating cast of his face and the arm's pose, one might think
he were acting as the leader of an orchestra. Perhaps the
great Lely intended to be slyly satirical in this famous
portrait.

The next volume of the series will be filled with matter
complementary to the Diary, and a memorandum on the
author's pedigree.

In a work called Nature of an Universe of Life* we have
a striking proof of the durability of the human brain under
the severest tension that a study of scientific formulae and the
subtleties of the profoundest logic can apply to its machinery.
The scientific nomenclature in it would require a large glossary ;
the plain language is put to such uses as demand a profound
study. So far as we have been enabled to form a conception
of the author's purpose, one of his objects was to prove that
man is a product of Nature, mind and body. The Greeks
before Plato believed something like this ; men and women were
with them autocthones — animate things that sprang from the
earth — male or female according as the pebbles were thrown
by Deucalion and Pyrrha, after the Deluge. A fruitless en-
deavor to follow this bewildering product of a morbid pseudo-
science suggests, indeed, from its countless variations upon the
string of Nature, the complaint of Hamlet :

"... and we, poor fools of Nature,
So horribly to shake our dispositions
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls."

We derive a vast deal of interesting and suggestive, if not
practically useful, lore from an essay on The Education of Chil-
dren at Rome, \ by Dr. George Clarke, of Trinity College, Dublin,
and James Hall Academy, Montclair, Colorado. By " at Rome "

* Nature of an Universe of Life. By Leonidas Spratt. Jacksonville, Fla. : Vance Print-
ing Co.

^Education of Children at Rome. By George Clarke, Ph.D. New York : Macmillan £
Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 705

the learned author, we find, means in the Rome of pre-Christian
days, and his phraseology appears to imply that Rcme \\as in
that age a place of learning so familiar in the minds of the cul-
tured as to be spoken of in the same way as the modern uni-
versity-centres, "at Harvard," "at Oxford," etc. His work dis-
plays the fruits of a patient search through the pages of old
authors, and we gather from it that the dominant notion of Ro-
man educators was that education played only a secondary part
in the production of great men, as Cicero, Horace, Seneca, and
other authorities taught. Quintilian is, however, relied upon as
maintaining the opinion that a laborious cultivation of the men-
tal soil from the earliest period possible for pedagogic pur-
poses is the best preparation for an aspirant to greatness.
The status of the average teacher in Rome, both as to pay
and social respect, does not seem to have been very high, but
teaching seems to have sometimes maintained a unique status
of its own, by refusing to give its mental treasures for pay.
So, too, with the law in Rome, when the great advocate osten-
sibly pleaded his client's cause gratis, but kept an open-mouthed
wallet hanging from his girdle into which the client was at liberty
to put as handsome retainers and " refreshers " as he was able.
On the whole the Roman system would seem better adapted
for the development of the best that was in a smart pupil than
that of our own day. An exposition of the Roman school
method and apparatus, as outlined by Dr. Clarke, would, we
venture to think, be a highly interesting adjunct of any modern
school exhibit.

I: — A NEW DIATESSARON.*

This is a valuable contribution to the literature necessary
for the study of the life of Christ, as well as for devotional
use in meditating or preaching upon the events and doctrines
of our Saviour's mission. It is the life of our Lord set forth
in one connected narrative, from which no event, discourse, or
even detail, occurring in any of the four Gospels, has been
omitted ; the whole narrative, nevertheless, being made up en-
tirely of the words of the Evangelists.

It is not a complete harmony of the Gospels, which would
give every word of the inspired writers taken out of their place
and centred together upon facts and discourses. But it is all

* Jesus : His Life in the very Words of the Four Gospels. A Diatessaron. By Henry
Beauclerk, Priest of the Society of Jesus. London : Burns & Gates ; New York, Cincinnati,
Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

/o6 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

the facts and all the discourses, down to the least details, given
in no other words than the Gospel ones, omitting those words
not anyway helpful for a full knowledge. No words whatever
are wanting except those which would be found merely repeti-
tive in a Harmony. Either in the text of this Diatessaron, or
in the margins, every single verse of the four Gospels is ac-
counted for. Not only so, but every word used can be in-
stantly traced by marginal references, or by insertions of
"superiors" in the text, to its proper author. The writer has
not commented on the inspired narrative, giving, however, an
occasional foot-note by way of suggestion or leading to further
study of disputed matters.

Such a volume is indispensable for a fairly accurate knowl-
edge of our Saviour's life. It is of superior use to a harmony
for any but a professor or a student whose main purpose is
research. Father Beauclerk can congratulate himself that he
has contributed very notably to the knowledge and love of
Jesus Christ in preparing this well-planned work. For those
who would meditate at first hand on the doings and sayings
of the Redeemer, some such book is of immense value, is in-
dispensable. Father Coleridge's Harmony is excellent for the
class-room ; but it is in two volumes, is cumbered with inevita-
ble repetition, and is perplexed with the printer's puzzle of
placing the different portions so as to stand properly related.
The present work is in one small volume, contains everything
good to meditate on or preach about, and is a uniform narra-
tive. Not by way of fault-finding, but in the interest of more
convenient use, we suggest that in the new edition sure to be
printed the minuter divisions of the Life shall be inserted in
the margin of the text. This would aid memory, and would
save the too-frequent recurrence to the table of contents.

2. — THE GREEK SCHISM.*

This is a story located in Constantinople, in the middle of
the ninth century. As a story it is well written and interesting.
But it is much more interesting and of very considerable value
as a historical sketch of the persecution and deposition of the
Patriarch, St. Ignatius, the elevation of Photius, the subsequent
downfall of the Emperor Michael and the wicked usurper Pho-
tius, the reinstatement of Ignatius, and the celebration of the
Eighth Ecumenical Council.

* Alethea : At the Parting of the Ways. By Cyril. 2 vols. London : Bums & Gates ;
New York : Benziger Bros.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 707

This historical sketch, under the pleasing form of a romance,
is most opportune, because at present attention is turned toward
Constantinople and the unhappy Christians of those regions
which once made part of the Eastern Roman Empire. It pre-
sents a true view of the tyranny of the emperors over the
church, of the constantly recurring revolts of ambitious and
heretical patriarchs against the Roman Church, and of the dis-
graceful, criminal origin of the deplorable Greek schism, begun
by Photius in the ninth and consummated by his successor in
the eleventh century. The whole history of Photius furnishes
overwhelming proofs that the supremacy over the Eastern patri-
archates was claimed by the Roman pontiffs, and admitted by
the patriarchs, with the entire body of the bishops, during the
whole period of the first eight councils.

3. — DOGMATIC THEOLOGY.*

With this volume Father Hunter's Theology is finished. The
approbation of the censors of the Society of Jesus and of Car-
dinal Vaughan gives a sufficient endorsement to the work as
a safe manual for the laity. It gives them in a plain, intelli-
gible style an exposition of the theology contained in our
best Latin text-books and taught in our seminaries. We cor-
dially recommend it as a useful and trustworthy book of in-
struction for the laity.

4. — A NEW. CATHOLIC CATECHISM.f

The experienced teacher who knows the difficulties con-
nected with the teaching of Christian Doctrine will find this
Catechism worthy of careful inspection. No higher claim can
be made for it than the guarantee that it represents the mature
work of a distinguished priest whose knowledge of the child's
mind is quite as reliable as his eminent theological learning.
In its present form it embodies many suggestions from men of
authority in educational circles and competent catechists, to
whom the work was submitted inviting criticism about a year
ago.

* Outlines of Dogmatic Theology. By Sylvester Joseph Hunter, S.J. Vol iii. New
York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros., printers to the Holy Apostolic See. i8q6.
Imprimatur of Cardinal Vaughan. Price $1.50.

t A Catechism of the Christian Religion. By a Priest of the Archdiocese of New York,
approved by the Ordinary. New York : Charles Wildermann, n Barclay Street.

708 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.

The author has been guided by this declaration from St.
Augustine : " Doctrina Christiana ita doceatur ut pateat, placeat,
mot'eat" Great care has been taken to secure the simplest ver-
bal form, giving a preference to words that may be readily un-
derstood by children, while at the same time conveying the
clear and exact meaning of the doctrine.

This new Catechism follows the law of development recog-
nized in school books for reading, spelling, and all the secular
branches of study ; it is arranged in three parts. Beginners
are provided in the first part with a distinct book, which con-
tains the information for First Confession, with a new plan of
assisting the examination of conscience by a clear exposition
of the commandments. When promoted to the second part
the child will feel the joy that comes from getting a new book,
which contains a complete review of the knowledge already
gained, with the additional matter needed to prepare for First
Holy Communion. The third part is calculated to complete
the instruction in Christian Doctrine. Under the chapter de-
voted to the fourth commandment is found a very timely ex-
position of true patriotism, which gives the right interpretation
of the duty of allegiance to the civil authority in the United
States.

Two editions of the new Catechism have been prepared,
one with the German and English on opposite pages; the other
containing only the English text, which has been carefully re-
vised by a most accurate master of the language.

THE new Encyclical of the Holy Father on
the subject of Christian Unity has had a very
curious effect upon the various non-Catholic organs
of opinion. From the tone of their comments it would appear
that they had expected an invitation to join the Mother
Church on the condition that they retain their own attitude of
dissent and independence while the Pope surrendered his
prerogatives as the successor of St. Peter and first Bishop of
the whole Christian Church. " Rome never changes " is now
their disappointed cry. A church with a headship subject to
variation with every passing political or intellectual mood would
seem to be the desideratum with the various representations of
conflicting doctrine and uncertain authority. The Holy Father's
Encyclical lays down nothing new in the assertion of the con-
ditions on which unity is possible. It simply states what can-
not be denied, that the first essential of unity is the admission
of a central authority. When that principle is admitted, as ad-
mitted it must be in the end, the process of unification ought
to be comparatively easy.

No matter how bland the axioms of our modern civilization,
race antipathies, in a country of heterogeneous origin, are the
most strenuous forces in the silent currents of its daily life,
until the process of fusion has had time to compose them.
This well-recognized social law gives the clue to the great
significance attached to the unveiling of the O'Reilly monu-
ment at Boston recently. Versatile as was his genius as poet
and journalist, John Boyle O'Reilly as the enthusiastic Irish
patriot, ready for martyrdom for nationality's sake, never could
have gained the place he did in the affections of the learned of
Boston had he not been able to disarm their prejudices and show
that devotion to fatherland is quite compatible with the broad-
est philanthropy and love of freedom for all in the highest in-
terests of humanity. He was a unique figure, filling a unique
place — such a figure as only the poet's heart, perhaps, could
conceive — a soul fully in touch with the age and the environ-

710 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Aug.,

ment, but yet a thousand years beyond and above them. His
monument stands, therefore, for a new covenant in nationality
and literature.

One of the most elephantine failures in the world has been
that of the great Unionist government in England, so far.
Returned to power with an irresistible majority, it has been
utterly unable to use its giant's strength to any single good
purpose. Its great measures in Parliament have been four — an
English Rating Bill, an Irish Land Bill, an Irish Education
and an English Education Bill. The first named, which was a
reactionary measure of a most unpopular character, designed to
benefit the land-owner at the expense of the rate-payer and
the toiler, was forced through Parliament by the unsparing
application of the closure. The second is still undealt with.
The third and fourth — the most important of the series — have
been ignominiously withdrawn. No one can commiserate the
government for the humiliation which has overtaken it with re-
gard to the Education Bills, so glaringly inconsistent and un-
fair was its action with regard to the different measures.

It was of a piece with the traditional Tory policy that
the treatment proposed for Ireland was the direct antithe-
sis of that proposed for England. In giving a tardy instalment
of justice to the Christian Brothers' Schools with one hand,
with the other the government proposed to apply the provi-
sions of the Compulsory Act to Ireland without the safeguard
of a "conscience clause." Therefore the bill was condemned
by the Irish bishops and by public opinion throughout the
country. The conscience clause was, on the contrary, insisted
on as a condition of the inadequate relief to the Voluntary
Schools offered in the English Bill. Though the principle of
that bill was substantially accepted by the English Roman
Catholic hierarchy, the amount of relief it offered was con-
sidered entirely inadequate. The Nonconformists and Radicals
made so great a clamor about the bill, however, and it met
with so much opposition in Parliament, that the government,
after a couple of weeks' battling, gave up the fight and with-
drew both bills for the present session. Mr. Balfour has proved
himself a conspicuous failure as leader of the House of Com-
mons ; while Mr. Chamberlain, at the head of the Colonial
Office, has been so fooled by Mr. Kruger of the Transvaal as
to cut as ridiculous a figure as the Poet Laureate.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 711

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

1 T 7E are pleased to learn from an esteemed correspondent that the convent schools
W are one after another falling into line and forming Alumnae Associations.
Last spring the Sisters of Charity of St. Elizabeth's and Mount St. Vincent's Aca-
demy made this forward move, and now the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, that
time-honored institution of learning in the South, have placed themselves among
the leaders. The invitation from the sisters to the former graduates to assemble
at Nazareth on June 17 last met with a ready response from the old pupils who,
to the number of ninety, came from near and far to do honor to their Alma Mater;
many of them gray-haired old women, others in the prime of womanhood, and
others still sweet girl graduates with laurels yet unfaded.

Nazareth was founded in 1812, and chartered in 1829, and though she has
ever been a potent factor in the development of higher education, numbering
among her alumnas prominent women in all parts of the United States who have
attained prominence in art and literature, it was only in 1895 that steps were
taken to organize an Alumnae Association, and not until 1896 that the movement
actually took shape. Mrs. Fannie Bradford Miles, of New Hope, Ky., a niece of
President Jefferson Davis, and one of the first graduates of the institution, was
elected president, and called the meeting to order. Right Rev. William George
McCloskey, the venerable Bishop of Louisville, then addressed the assemblage.
He was followed by Father William Dann, who in the course of his remarks
paid an eloquent tribute to the memory of Mrs. Clara L. Mcllvain, who is held up
to each succeeding class of graduates as the most gifted writer Nazareth ever
produced.

One of the interesting features of the occasion was the reading of a letter by
a young miss who represented the sixteenth member of her family who had been
a pupil of Nazareth. The sisters entertained their visitors " right royally,'' and at
the conclusion of the banquet, which was made beautiful with music and song,
the guests and pupils united in singing " My Old Kentucky Home."

Although the Sisters of Nazareth have advertised and written extensively,
they find it impossible to place themselves in communication with all their widely
scattered pupils. All are, however, cordially invited to join the Alumnae Associa-
tion, the only requirements being an honorable character and devotion to their
Alma Mater. Membership may be obtained by forwarding name and address,
with one dollar fee, to Mrs. Kate Spalding, Treasurer, Lebanon, Ky. The name
and address must also be sent to Sister Marietta, Nazareth Academy, Ky., for the
register.

The following list of officers were elected by the Alumnas Association : Presi-
dent, Mrs. Edward Miles (Annie Bradford), New Hope, Ky.; First Vice-Presi-
dent, Mrs. James Mulligan, Lexington, Ky.; Treasurer, Mrs. Ralph L. Spalding,
Lebanon, Ky.; Corresponding Secretary, Mrs. Ann Hanly Botts, Lebanon, Ky.;
Recording Secretary, Miss Mollie A. Chiles, Lexington, Ky.; Vice-President of
Missouri, Mrs. Julia Sloan Spalding, St. Louis, Mo.; Vice-President of Texas, Mrs.
L. Hardie Cleveland, Galveston, Tex.; Vice-President of Illinois, Mrs. Leonora
Spalding; Vice-President of Arkansas, Mrs. P. H. Pendleton, Pine Bluff; Vice-
President of Tennessee, Mrs. Daniel Phillips ; Vice-President of Alabama, Mrs. T.
Fossick Rockwood ; Vice-President of Louisiana, Mrs. W. H. Peterman, Marks-
ville ; Vice-President of Mississippi, Mrs. Medora Cook Cassidy, Stormville ; Vice-

712 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aug.,

President of Indiana, Miss Nora C. Duffy, Jeffersonville ; Vice-President of Ohio,
Miss Margaret Ryan, Cincinnati ; Foreign Vice-President, Mrs. Anna Rudd Tay-
lor, Paris, France.

It has been proposed that these various officers, representing Nazareth at
home and abroad, should organize Reading Circles in their respective cities ; those
in Kentucky making a special study of Kentucky writers, while those in the other
States will take up the writers of the South. A well-organized work of this kind
will tend to make Nazareth a more potent factor of education than any other in-
stitution in the South. Her influence then will be felt not only within her convent
walls, but far outside these confined limits which was her sole sphere of useful-
ness until the alumnae went forth and joined the rapidly swelling numbers of
Reading Circles, thus spreading far and wide the beneficent influence of Nazareth.
The reports of the work of these Circles throughout the South will be given at the
next annual meeting of the alumnae on the last Wednesday of June, 1897. Mean-
while the Columbian Reading Union will be glad to note the progress of the new
organizations.

* * *

A Reading Circle has been organized at the Academy of the Sacred Heart,
St. Charles Avenue, New Orleans, having for its object the strengthening of
religious principles and higher intellectual culture by means of thorough and well
directed reading. The membership is limited to twenty-five persons. Applica-
tions will be registered and places given as vacancies occur from members drop-
ping off, not working satisfactorily, or absenting themselves without sufficient
reason from three successive meetings. Ladies ready to read and work will be
admitted, after having been properly introduced and accepted by vote of directress
and members. Meetings will be held twice a month for two hours at the
Academy of the Sacred Heart. The text-book indicated by the directress will be
read by the whole Circle. At each meeting a working committee will be chosen
to read other designated books, a verbal or written digest of which will be given
at the next meeting.

Those not on the committee may read as their tastes direct, but fiction will
be limited to one volume in three. The plan of study includes an advance course
in Christian doctrine and thorough ground-work in philosophy, accompanied by
readings in Cardinal Newman and Brother Azarias ; a course in universal
history, supplemented by a study of the world-famed masterpieces in literature
and art ; special studies in American, British, French, German, Italian, and
Spanish history and literature ; studies in any of the natural sciences.

A synthetic view of the subject under study will be presented by the
directress, who also assigns the reading matter for the working committee.
Leading notes or test questions on the fortnight's work will be distributed and
answers to the same required at the following meeting.

Those on the working committee prepare special work on topics that require
fuller development than can be gathered from the text-book. However, should
any other member come across valuable bits of information on the given subject,
she may bring it as a contribution to the general fund. Thus much information
will be furnished all, at a very slight individual cost.

* * *

The members of the McMillan Reading Circle, established at Saratoga
Springs, N. Y., have made commendable progress in high-class reading and dis-
cussion. The books which they are reading are Goodyear's Roman and Medie-
val Art ; Foundation Studies in Literature, by Mrs. Margaret Mooney, teacher

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 713

of literature in the Albany Normal College, and Political Economy. In addition
to these standard works the members have read the Reading Circle Review and
THE CATHOLIC WORLD, and at the meetings have discussed topics of the times.
At the close of the Circle's second year the enthusiasm in which it might be said
to have had its origin has not abated, and the members look forward to another
year's work with as much interest as they did to the formation.

* * *

The St. Thomas Aquinas Reading Circle held its regular meetings every Sat-
urday afternoon at the Dominican Convent, 886 Madison Avenue, Albany, N.Y.
Recently the young ladies of the Circle held their first reception, their friends be-
ing their guests. A very interesting programme of entertainment was presented
consisting of recitations, choruses, and solos on the mandolin by the members of
the Circle.

The two special features of the afternoon, however, were by Miss Margaret
E. Jordan and Mrs. M. K. Boyd. Miss Jordan furnished a paper entitled " The
Reading Circle as it bears upon Self and Others." Though brief, the paper
touched upon all the vital bearings of the work, and drew attention to the leaders
of Catholic literary movements and to their varied works, closing with some strik-
ing examples of the power of fche printed word in the uplifting and sanctification
of souls. Miss Jordan is well known as a writer in both prose and verse. Mrs.
Boyd favored the Circle and its guests with selections from various authors, ren-
dering exquisitely those of a pathetic nature, and with a charm peculiarly her own
presenting those of a humorous character. Mrs. Boyd's force as a public speaker
lies in her power of captivating at once the heart of her hearers.

Several of the religious were present during the literary entertainment. The
Circle is conducted by one of the sisters, who brings not only the zeal of the reli-
gious but the interest of the student to the cause. The Circle has devoted this
year to the study of Christian doctrine ; its general reading has been that classic
of our language, Cardinal Wiseman's Fabiola. The motto of St. Thomas Aqui-
nas Circle is well chosen, and is kept steadily in view : Ad Altiora — " To Higher
Things." The room was decorated with the papal colors, yellow and white,
adopted as the colors of the Circle ; while the motto in purple and gold surmounted
the flower-decked shrine of St. Thomas Aquinas.

* * *

An editorial in the Boston Pilot is justly severe on a universal critic who is
sadly in need of reliable information about some of his fellow-Catholics. The
Pilot gives this sound advice :

The public censor of individuals, literary movements, or methods of govern-
ment should speak or write against the background of the highest standards,
moral, literary, and political. He should be impartial and impersonal. The
moment he proclaims himself as the standard of measurement he neutralizes the
value of those points in his criticism which were true and well taken, and makes
himself ridiculous besides.

Mr. William Henry Thorne, editor of the Globe Review, imagines that the
mantle of Brownson has fallen upon him. It is well that it has not, for he would
be smothered under its ample folds. In the current issue of his Review Mr.
Thorne undertakes to deal with the Summer-Schools and Catholic periodical
literature, with the Catholic University, the status of French-Canadian priests in
the New England dioceses, the attitude of Congress on the Cuban question, and
the RaioesBill.

He disapproves of Summer-Schools, Catholic or Protestant, without reserve.

714 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aug.,

It is no part of Catholic obligation to attend Summer-Schools nor to contribute
to their maintenance ; but it is the bounden duty of a critic to know something
of that which he condemns, and Mr. Thorne has evidently never spent even a
week at Plattsburgh or Madison. He condemns on the unreliable basis of " I
am told."

It is true that in the present Catholic literary movement, as in every literary
movement, there is more or less chaff with the wheat ; that the bane of every
organization is the host of vulgar pushers and self-advertisers who endeavor to
use it for the hearing which would be elsewhere refused them ; but the sifting
process is going on successfully, and the season of the aspirant for Catholic favor
and patronage who has no reality behind his oratorical or literary pretensions is
usually very short.

Some of our Catholic magazines and many of our Catholic newspapers are
pitched to a very low key, literary and journalistic. But these have their deserved
punishment in their small circulation ; and, in any event, they are not likely to
take much to heart the criticism of a man who thus records his opinion of his own
work :

" The one crying need of the age is a great magazine devoted to intellectual
and literary culture in the interest of Catholic Christianity and supported by the
whole Catholic Church. I founded the Globe Review to fill some such need. . .

" I am perfectly convinced that any one issue of this Review published during
the last four years has done more for the advancement of Catholic truth and
Catholic culture than has been done by all the meetings and all the lectures of all
Catholic or Protestant Summer-Schools yet held in this land."

Mr. Thorne can take care of the state as easily as of the church, though at a
somewhat higher figure. He says :

" Our national government costs the people for salaries alone, not to speak of
wastes and spoils, nearly $50,000,000 a year. For §1,000,000 a year I would agree
to hire all needed assistants and do the work the entire national government has
to do, but does not do, or agree to be shot, or commit suicide, after five years of
honest trial."

But since the church makes him no offer to be her literary censor, nor the
state to be minister of finance, we fear Mr. Thorne must content himself with his
present role of Grand High Chief Pessimist to the Catholics of America.
* * *

Mr. Banks M. Moore is one of the select number of young men devoted to the
work of the Columbian Reading Union, though not belonging to any Reading
Circle. He sends the following notice of a recent book :

Messrs. D. H. McBride & Co., of Chicago, have adopted an admirable plan of
collecting Summer-School essays and publishing them in small book form, thus
perpetuating the good work and giving it a broader field. The Summer-Schools
represent the results of the best thought in America ; and it would be contrary to
their purpose to suppose that their influence is merely temporary, or that it is to
be confined to those only who have the leisure to attend their sessions. Through
the design of the Chicago .publisher, not only are many learned essays preserved
but also there is given an opportunity to those who on account of distance or lack
of time are prevented from personal attendance at the lectures. The enterprising
publisher should receive from the general public the substantial reward of a large
circulation.

;^_ We have a volume of these essays at hand from the Summer-School held at
Madison, Wis., and we note among the contributors many distinguished names :

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, 715

Monsignor D'Harlez, Dr. Hart, Miss K. E. Convvay, Professor M. F. Egan, Right
Rev. S. G. Messmer, D.D., Rev. E. Magevney, S.J., and Rev. Thomas McMil-
lan, C.S.P.

Father McMillan was requested to prepare an essay on the Growth of Read-
ing Circles, and it would be difficult to obtain a better authority upon the subject,
for he has been identified with the work since its organization in America. He
was the founder of the celebrated Ozanam Reading Circle, of New York City, the
first regularly organized body of the kind in this country. The origin of the
movement he traces to the free circulating library of St. Paul's Sunday-school in
New York City, when in 1886 several graduates decided to form a reading circle
named in honor of Frederic Ozanam, the gifted French litterateur. In the Sunday-
school there is a custom to assign to each pupil a certain number of religious
books with extraneous reading ; and the Ozanam Reading Circle, following this
precedent, gives pre-eminence to Catholic authors. The readings are selected
from a literary stand-point ; standard periodicals are frequently consulted ; and a
stimulus is given to good thought by having the members read aloud some im-
pressive passages. All efforts tend in some way to acquaint the members with
Catholic history and Catholic literature.

Father McMillan also speaks of " the highly-gifted " Brother Azarias as an
earnest advocate of the Reading Circle in America ; and for this object especially
he prepared his work on Books and Reading. Within ten years great progress
has been made in the movement, as has been shown by the continued existence
of the Catholic Reading Circle Review, published at Youngstown, Ohio. Yet
much remains to be done ; and the Summer-School at Lake Champlain can trace
a large measure of its success to Catholic Reading Circles. The essay on the
whole shows a wide knowledge of the subject and is presented by its distin-
guished author in an especially attractive manner.

The comparison of Buddhism with Christianity is the highly interesting theme
chosen by Monsignor D'Harlez, and it is thoroughly and ably treated. Not only
has the author made a deep and thorough research into the popular religion of
Asia, but he has taken occasion to compare its particular forms with the doctrines
of Christianity, and thence draws his deductions. These we find by no means
preponderating on the side of Buddhism, even though the essayist has given a
full and complete exposition of the system, considering it in its origin, its founder,
and its precepts. The genesis of the Buddhist system is but an offshoot from
• Brahminism, lessening the excesses of the latter with an attempt to strike " the
happy mean." In its very beginning it is contrary to Christianity, inasmuch as
its basis rests merely upon human intelligence, not divine inspiration. The ex-
position of its origin is mainly historical, as is also the chapter upon the founder —
Siddhartha — who appears as one loving and pitying humanity and striving for its
elevation, yet prompted only by the emotions of his own heart. Monsignor
D'Harlez very clearly illustrates the inferiority of the religion in these two impor-
tant respects to Christianity, which places its whole groundwork upon its divine
origin, and therefore must certainly surpass in every way any fabrication of the
human intellect. It is not strange, then, that we find in the doctrines of Buddhism
many intellectual extravagances and contradictions, prone as the mind is to err in
its own judgments and reasonings. Chief among these is the fundamental doc-
trine of reincarnation, which we can find supported by no proof; and to this is
added a belief even more untenable, that " rebirth depends upon our own will"

There is no personal God — there is only an invisible eternal action pervading
everything and producing in each being a different effect, which mysterious prin-

716 NEW BOOKS. [Aug., 1896.

ciple the Buddhist calls " Karma." Life is not created, but it arises from a desire
which is the soul (or rather what we would call the soul) coalescing with
material elements. There is no eternal punishment for sin, only a horrible
rebirth ; neither is there any eternal reward for the just — reward except in
annihilation, which Buddha considers a blessing : whereas some of our latter-
day philosophers, going to the other extreme, have sought to make the annihila-
tion of the soul a negative punishment for sin. Though Buddhism has made no
encroachments upon Christianity in America, still a careful perusal of the essay by
Monsignor D'Harlez will serve to strengthen the truth that is within us and to
fortify it against the more pernicious theories that are continually arising from
every side.

The different writers represented in the Summer-School Essays published
by Messrs. D. H. McBride & Co. are as follows :

Volume I. : Buddhism and Christianity, by Monsignor D'Harlez ; Christian
Science and Faith Cure, by Dr. T. P. Hart ; Growth of Reading Circles, by Rev.
T. McMillan, C.S.P. ; Reading Circle Work, by Rev. W. J. Dalton ; Church Music.
by Rev. R. Fuhr, O.S.F. ; Catholic Literary Societies, by Miss K. E. Conway;
Historical Criticism, by Rev. P. C. De Smedt, SJ. Volume II.: The Spanish
Inquisition, by Rev. J. F. Nugent; Savonarola, by Conde B. Fallen, Ph.D.; loan
of Arc, by J. W. Wilstach ; Magna Charta, by Professor J. G. Ewing ; Missionary
Explorers of the North-west, by Judge W. L. Kelly.

In preparation : Christian Ethics, by Rev. J. J. Conway, SJ. ; Aristotle and
the Christian Church, by Brother Azarias ; Social Problems, by Rev. Morgan M.
Sheedy; Dante and Education, by Rev. J. F. Mullaney ; A Posthumous Work
(yet unnamed), by Brother Azarias; Church and State, by Right Rev. S. G. Mess-
mer, D.D. ; The Sacred Scriptures, by Rev. P. J. Danehy, D.D. ; Literature and
Faith, by Professor M. F. Egan, LL.D. ; The Eastern Schism, by Rev. Joseph La'
Boule ; Economics, by Hon. R. Graham Frost ; Catholic Educational Development,
by Rev. E. Magevney, SJ. ; English Literature, by Richard Malcolm Johnston,
LL.D. ; The Church and the Times, by Archbishop Ireland ; The Catholic Lay-
man, by Hon. W. J. Onahan.

NEW BOOKS.

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

An Introduction to the Study of American Literature. By Brander Mat-

thews, A.M., LL.B.
CATHOLIC TRUTH SOCIETY, London:

Claudius: A Sketch from the First Century. By C. M. Home.
PURE MUSIC SOCIETY (private edition of five hundred copies) :

Iphigenia, Baroness of Styne : A Story of the " Divine Impatience " An ap-

propriate autobiography. By Frederick Horace Clark.
WESTERN CHRONICLE COMPANY, Omaha :

Meg : The Story of an Ignorant Little Fisher Girl. By Gilbert Guest.
OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY, Chicago :

Lovers Three Thousand Years Ago. By the Rev. T. A. Goodwin.

NEW PAMPHLETS.
8 Rue Frangois I., Paris:

La Franc-Mafonnerie Demasqute. Nouvelle Serie, No. 26.
R. WASHBOURNE, 18 Paternoster Row, London:

The Life of Blessed Thomas More. By the Rev. Dean Fleming, Rector of
St. Mary's, Moorfields.

THE BAPTISM OF CLOVIS. (See page 825.)
(From Blanc's celebrated Painting.)

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIII. SEPTEMBER, 1896. No. 378.

SOME FEATURES OF THE NEW ISSUE: SILVER

OR GOLD.

BY ROBERT J. MAHON.

VEN to the non-combatant in the new controversy
before the country some features of the contest
are noticeable and interesting. Without attempt-
ing to participate here in the discussion itself,
we may with much satisfaction appreciate some
general aspects of the situation. There is much pleasure in
noting that there is a total elimination of race prejudice or
passion, although the fight is bitter, fierce, and highly personal
in abuse. The offensive antipathies of one people coming from
a foreign shore to another coming from an equally distant
point, are not to be made use of. There can be no reason-
ably successful appeal for a man's vote on the money question
if based on the fact of his birthplace, or the starting-point of
his ancestor's immigration. Even the quasi-secret waves of
racial prejudice that move in political talk, but are always
avoided in public, are this time capable of but feeble effect.

Again, the bitter controversies of pretended religious bias
are for once wholly futile. A man's creed can have so little
touch with the issue of a monetary standard that it would be
little better than sheer lunacy to urge its application. The
society that is American in name only can have nothing in this
campaign to protect its secret membership against, except per-
haps its own rapid decay from political inaction.

In these features the contest is likely to be hailed with joy
by all who want a free field for an intellectual debate. In
these respects we may reasonably hope to have a political con-
Copyright. VERY REV. A. F. HEWIT. 1896.

VOL. LXIII. — 46

SOME FEATURES OF THE NEW ISSUE : [Sept.,

test actually tending to develop the thought and mind of the
people. The usual diversions or digressions are to be omitted
and the issue left to be determined by the best judgment of a
majority of our citizens.

So hard pressed for material are the business politicians who
ply the trade of arousing the harmful prejudices and passions
of the multitude, that their efforts this year are immensely
absurd. Those working on the gold side of the question call
our attention to the alleged unharvested hair of the silver
champions, to the so-called anarchy of bimetallism ; while the
professional disturbers this time enlisted in the silver ranks, in
equally unanswerable terms denounce the so-called " moneyed
barons " of Wall Street.

DANGER OF A CLASS CONFLICT.

If, in truth, the question is vital to American interests, it
behooves those sincerely interested in the country's welfare to
help towards the elucidation of the vexing problem. It would
be better to at once address ourselves to a careful study of the
question. Calm and dispassionate reasoning will always reach
the American people when the political alarmists are tempo-
rarily suppressed. He is indeed a wise man who can say
advisedly, without much reading, that on one side is the only
financial hope of the business world. The topic is an exceed-
ingly difficult one from a political point of view. It is a con-
troversy that requires genuine statesmanship and much honesty
of purpose. There are forces working through the land that
will in time make their serious results dangerously apparent.
We cannot safely shut our eyes to an unusually strong feeling
of discontent among the masses. Conservatives who are wise
prepare for changed conditions in time to avert their sudden
harsh effect, or adapt the new conditions so far as possible to
the elastic customs of business or political life. In periods of
unrest there is always danger of arraying class against class, a
conflict of invariable misfortune and sorrow.

The editor of one of the leading journals of the country,
perhaps the ablest in point of political discernment, has dubbed
the silver candidate a "sonorous nullity." And in this epithet
the editor unwittingly calls our attention to the importance of
the issue itself compared with the personality of the candidates.
If silver legislation will achieve but half the cure claimed for it,
or work half the evil to the business world that some men
seem to fear, it approaches in importance the dignity of a

1896.] SILVER OR GOLD. 719

national benefit or curse. In a controversy, then, of this nature
the candidates are but standard-bearers ; mere representatives of
opposite forces, who themselves will have little to do with the
issue except by way of a possible veto.

EFFACEMENT OF PARTY LINES.

But the most striking feature of the campaign is the abso-
lute dethronement of the party fetich. Even those who have
been following one party, politically, with a regularity grown
into habit, are this year committing the so-called political crime
of " bolting." Those staunch adherents of both parties who have
followed the rod of party fealty to the exclusion of all other
political instincts, who have tramped after the party emblem
through all kinds of apparent political error, are now receiving
the new light of individual suffrage. They are now taking the
view that the bunching of votes is not all the suffrage ; that
selection and judgment are also the rights of citizens. The
once despised doctrine of " Mugwumpery " is now subscribed
to with remarkable ease. Veterans of both political camps,
who have fought or voted with one organization since political
infancy, are this year bidding farewell to old comrades without
much perceptible remorse. And who will say that the change
is not a wholesome one for political life generally ? It goes to
prove that the people, despite the allurements of mere politi-
cians, are quite equal to an independent and rational use of
their suffrage ; that when an important principle is really in
peril, they will forsake party ties to do that which the dis-
interested political conscience dictates. •

THE RISE OF INDEPENDENT THOUGHT.

In the wide range of literature devoted to political and
municipal reform there is one idea that is universally adopted
as essential — the independent exercise of suffrage. When we
find famed party champions acting on this idea, their future
influence against independent action is next to impotent. So
that, whatever the result of the present issue, we have gone far
towards exploding the old party idea, that the political parties
are armies ruled by commandants whose orders are not to be
gainsaid. We are really recruiting an immense host of inde-
pendent thinkers on public questions who will not shirk their
public duties by leaving them to party leaders. With our
suffrage so universal in its privileges each citizen has a duty,
as well as a right, to do politically as his judgment directs. It
was never meant that a citizen should act by proxy.

720 GERMANY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY, [Sept.,

GERMANY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

BY JOSEPH WALTER WILSTACH.

write the story of a people after the lapse of
a century or more is a task which scholars may
daringly conceive. We have, however, only to
look upon the civilization in which we live, with
all its multiform features, its network of various
influences, beliefs, prejudices, passions, customs, its arts and
sciences, its ignorance and knowledge, its traits and habits, to
realize the greatness of the task even when the living, active
entity is before the eye. But when the busy hand of time
shall have changed all this — 'shall have swept away or destroyed,
shall have introduced new causes and produced new effects,
how incomparably greater will the undertaking have become !
Therefore, to write the story of a people — that is, to give a
true picture of a people in all the complexities of their existence
— must be a proposition presenting itself to a scientific mind as,
strictly speaking, an impossibility.

But even to approximately succeed, according to a high
ideal of such a task, would require an amount of genius, of
knowledge, of art in language, of skill in construction, of artis-
tic touch and power of coloring, that may be imagined but has
never been possessed by the most favored of minds. The
largeness of the field, the multiplicity of the details, and the
inevitable lack of facts only add to the difficulty. Therefore
we must be satisfied with a very inadequate result if we would
read with pleasure the labors of those who have devoted their
studies to such tasks. We must take the framework of their
facts and let imagination supply what the impossibilities of the
task preclude. To write the story of a people, either at some
special epoch, or during some continuous period of its exis-
tence, is a fruitful form of historic composition, and has received
a new impetus in our day. It is the outgrowth, no doubt, of
that growing spirit of democracy which is pervading the world,
and from a wider appreciation of the fact that the doings of
sovereigns and the measures of governments and armies are of
less value than that inner life of the people from which all
national causes get their growth and momentum.

1896.] GERMANY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 721

We have had in recent years several attempts at this species
of composition — in Green's History of the English People, in
McMaster's History of the People of the United States, and,
latest of all, a German work by Janssen, in A History of the
German People at the Close of the Middle Ages* The subject
of Janssen's work is interesting and profitable, and invites the
mind to contemplate that wonderful period when an old polity
was passing away and a new one was taking its place. The
line of demarcation of this period is roughly placed by two
great events : the development of the art of printing and the
discovery of a new world by Columbus. In sketching the
spread of the art of arts Janssen, with pardonable national
pride, alludes to it as the " German art." Such, indeed, it was,
and the German printers were the pioneers who first carried
the art into every country of Europe except England, whose
first printer learned the art from Teutonic craftsmen. Wonder-
ful, indeed, and rapid is the growth of the art in the incunabu-
lum period of fifty 'years up to 1500. One reason for this is
the intelligent, the educated, the high-principled character of
the first great printers ; another, the wide thirst for knowledge
through the fountain of books which, however wide-spread the
traffic in manuscripts had become, was but poorly satiated un-
til printing multiplied the streams of knowledge.

We know, but we are apt to forget, the salient data of this
first fruitful half-century, with its one hundred editions of the
Bible ; its many editions of the classics and of the Fathers
of the church ; of poets whose praises were on every lip, but
whose memory is only preserved to-day in learned hand-books ;
of prayer-books and works of devotion ; in other words, such a
harvest of intellectual food as a great and intelligent popula-
tion, on its march to the fuller daylight of modern civilization,
would naturally desire and demand.

I believe it is Cardinal Newman who has called the litera-
ture of a people the mirror of its life — the reflection of its arts
and sciences, its aspirations, its ambitions, its failures, its suc-
cesses. So that the history of a people properly speaking, in-
side of the broad lines of its national changes, can only be
written in a series of pictures of all the phases of its intellec-
tual life. Janssen has conceived this idea of presenting it — the
truly philosophic one.

His two handsome volumes — and, by the way, a more beau-

* A History of the German People at the Close of the Middle Ages. By J. Janssen. Trans-
.lated from the German. 2 vols. 8vo. St. Louis, Mo.: B. Herder. 1895.

722 GERMANY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. [Sept.,

tiful specimen of book-making it has seldom been our pleasure
to take- up — he has divided into four books. Book I. treats of
the spread of the art of printing, elementary schools and reli-
gious education, elementary education and the older humanists,
and the universities and other schools of learning. The second
book, under the head of art and popular literature, sketches
architecture, sculpture and painting, engraving ; popular life, re-
flected in art, music, popular poetry, topical poetry and prose,
and popular reading. The third book describes agricultural
life, the conditions of artisans, and commerce and capital. The
fourth book sketches the political conditions and bearings of
the people, followed by a survey and retrospect.

A study of the principles and work of the Brethren of the
Social Life — an organization which honeycombed Germany in
the fifteenth century — would not be without profit to the mod-
ern Catholic world, with its advanced ideas. With them the for-
mation of a Christian character was the basis of all education.
Their schools were free; and at Deventer, in 1500, the number
of students reached 2,200. Many great men received the ele-
ments of education from these zealous teachers ; and Hegius,
one of the greatest of these in learning, in piety, and in charity,
held as a fundamental principle that " all learning gained at the
expense of religion is only pernicious."

It is, indeed, an ennobling, a soul-refreshing experience to
contemplate some of the simple great minds of that day — such
as Nicholas of Cusa, Rudolph Agricola, Alexander Hegius,
Wimpeling, and many others, whose sturdy qualities and deep
scholarship would have made them great in any age. Janssen
has given us charming sketches of their characters and their
lives. Yet we cannot contemplate this Germany of the fifteenth
century, with its wide-spread love of learning, going hand-in-
hand with the love of God and Holy Church, without a shud-
der, when we know it was the sheep-fold on which were to be
let loose the ravening wolves that came with Luther.

In his introductory pages to art and literature Janssen
strikes the keynote to his subject in the pithy statement that
art flourishes only in days of strong faith and true courage,
when men find greater joy in high ideals than in the merely
practical things of life. And farther on he says that " in
proportion to the dwindling of religious faith and earnestness,
and as ancient creeds and traditions were forgotten or despised,
art too declined. In proportion as men began to run after
false gods and strive to resuscitate the dead world of heathen-

1896.] GERMANY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 723

ism, so artistic, creative, and ideal power gradually weakened,
until it became altogether lifeless and barren."

The chapters on Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting will
be found intensely interesting and directory. The number of
splendid churches which sprang up in this age is truly remark-
able. " Such a multitude of beautiful places of worship," he
says truly, " could not have been built had not a Christian
spirit of piety and devotion pervaded all classes of society. It
was not the love of art which superinduced piety ; but the
pious character of the people, combined with its high mental
culture, expressed itself in a love of Christian works of art."
The story of the contributions which helped to carry on through
long years these great works to completion are touching in
their simplicity and by what they imply of the people and the
age.

I cannot forego giving Janssen's description of what the idea
of the Gothic church edifice embodied : " The Christian Ger-
manic, or so-called Gothic, art has been fitly described as the
architectural embodiment of Christianity. A Gothic edifice not
only represents organic unity in all the different parts, but is,
as it were, an organic development from a hidden germ, em-
bodying both in its form and material the highest truths, with-
out any sham or unreality. All the lines tend upwards, as if
to lead the eye to heaven. The order, distribution, and strength
of the different parts symbolize severally the ascendency of the
spirit over matter. All the details and carvings of its profuse
ornamentation are in harmony with each other and with the
fundamental idea of the edifice. Constructed after a fixed plan,
in the spirit of sacrifice and prayer, many of these buildings,
even in their present state of decay, strike the beholder with
wonder, and excite him to piety and devotion." This will re-
call to those who have read Schlegel's Lectures on the History
of Literature his beautiful expressions on the same subject.

The reader who follows Janssen will always find himself in
the society of the noble and great in literature and the arts.
He will be led to contemplate all that was beautiful in an age
whose buildings, paintings, carvings, and products of the sister
mechanical arts are among the treasures to-day of Christian
genius. But he will not have seen a full picture of Germany
at the end of the middle ages. He will behold a picture
of society such as Kenelm Digby has given us in his Mores
Catholici, a picture of the better and finer side of a society in
which faith was luxuriant and productive of the highest fruits.

724 GERMANY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. [Sept.

But in this society there were other phases disagreeable to
contemplate. Those causes were at work which prepared the
way and made possible the hatreds and the ruin of the so-called
Reformation. This failure to give in more detail, to more
strongly accentuate, this side of history, is flattering to the
aesthetic sense and edifying to the heart that loves to witness
the fruitage of faith. Only in the chapter on popular poetry,
and in that brief portion of the final summary of the second
volume referring to scandals and abuses, the undermining of
church authority and heretics, is one corner of the veil lifted,
and we see that the age had its festering sores. Yet there
could be no nobler study for the cultivation of the artistic, for
the enlivening of faith, for the broadening and refreshment of
the mind in viewing a society so different from our own, than
that of old Germany at this period when so many arts had
reached their apogee, and when the application of religious
principles to daily life and national growth was -so wide-spread.
It is in this spirit that Janssen has written. His love for the
highest and the best has induced him to keep only these in the
foreground ; has induced him to veil his eyes as much as pos-
sible from a consideration of the giant evils which had eaten
with such cancerous rapacity into the very vitals of the nation.
These evils, it is plain, were not, as Protestants and infidels
would teach, the logical outgrowth of Catholicity ; they were a
violation of and a sacrilege upon it ; and if they had not existed
in spite of a vigorous Catholicity, Protestantism and its sister
infidelities would have found no soil there in which to strike
their roots.

1896.] YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 725

YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS.

BY J. ARTHUR FLOYD.

'ORK! What visions of the past the name con-
jures up, and yet that name is almost modern as
compared with the venerable city that bears it.
Its genesis is at once interesting and instructive ;
it takes us back through the long vista of past
centuries to the days of the Roman occupation of Britain, and
to yet more remote times, earlier than the dawn of the Chris-
tian era or the invasion of Julius Caesar, when we meet with it
in its original form as Caer Ebrauc — the city of Ebraucus.
The Romans converted it into Eboracum, and by that process
of mutation to which names are subject it became in Anglo-
Saxon days Eoferwick ; to the Danish settlers it was Jorvick ;
in Domesday Book it is written Euerwick, and the process of
development has resulted in its present form, York — a name
illustrious in the annals of Western Christendom, and in modern
days from its adoption by the commercial capital of the United
States.

Britain, which had been divided by the Emperor Severus,
in 197 A. D., into two prefectures, with Eboracum as the prin-
cipal town of the northern of the two, was by a subsequent
partition under Constantine the Great split into the three pro-
vinces of Britannia Prima in the south, with London as its capi-
tal ; Britannia Secunda covered what is now the principality of
Wales, its chief town being Caerleon ; Maxima Caesarensis ex-
tended over the whole north as far as the Roman arms had
penetrated, and included York, the then metropolis of all Bri-
tain. The church had by this time firmly rooted itself in the
island, and sent a bishop from each of the above provinces as
representatives to the Council of Aries (A. D. 314). They were
Restitutus of London, Adelphius of Caerleon, and Eborius of
York. Restitutus later on also took part in the Councils of
Nicea (A. D. 325) and Sardica (A. D. 347).

It was within the walls of York that Constantine was first
proclaimed Caesar of Gaul, Spain, and Britain ; in after years
he reunited under his own undivided sway all the provinces in-
to which the Roman Empire had been divided by Diocletian,

726 YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. [Sept.,

and, having submitted himself to the teaching of the church,
the Roman purple then for the first time rested on the shoul-
ders of a Christian occupant of the throne of Augustus. It has
been contended that Constantine was partly of British parentage,
and it was on some such ground that the English representa-
tives at the Councils of Basel and Constance claimed prece-
dence for themselves in the proceedings of those assemblages.

The final departure of the Romans from Britain rendered
possible the Teutonic invasions that swept over the country and
drove out Christianity from the eastern part of the island. By
them the land seems to have been divided by a line running
north and south, from Scotland to the English Channel, into
two unequal divisions. Into the Western or smaller division
the Britons were driven from the larger eastern division by the
flood of barbarian invaders, and there the British Church con-
tinued to exist. York, in the east, shared the fate of the rest of
the country that fell into the hands of these Germanic tribes ;
every vestige of Christianity seems to have disappeared, and
pagan worship was once again set up. The memory of their
wrongs lived on in the minds of the Britons, and, as a conse-
quence, they made no effort to evangelize their oppressors. It
remained for the popes to undertake England's second conver-
sion, just as Leo XIII. is once again laboring for the same end.

ADVENT OF ST. AUGUSTINE.

From the district round York, then called Deira, came the
fair, flaxen-haired boys who, exposed for sale in the Roman
market, attracted the attention of St. Gregory the Great, and
inflamed him with desire to win back their country " de ira
Dei " — from the wrath of God — as the saint put it ; only his
subsequent elevation to the papacy prevented his attempting to
carry out his wish in person. He did what was in his power
in sending St. Augustine and his companions. They landed in
Thanet in 597, and soon the kingdom of Kent received the
faith at their hands.

St. Augustine was instructed to found a second archiepisco-
pal see at York, in addition to the one he should occupy in
the south. In the then state of affairs in Northumbria this was
impossible, and neither Augustine nor his two immediate suc-
cessors found, it in their power to carry out this instruction.
When, however, Edwin, the pagan king of Northumbria, desired
to marry the Christian princess, Ethelberga of Kent, he was
told " it was not lawful to marry a Christian virgin to a

1896.]

YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS.

727

pagan husband." Edwin replied " that he would in no man-
ner act in opposition to the Christian faith which the virgin
professed ; he would allow her and her attendants to fol-
low that faith, and would himself embrace it if it should be
found more holy and more worthy of God." Edwin's promises
were deemed satisfactory. St. Paulinus was ordained bishop, and
conducted Ethelberga to her Northumbrian home ; Edwin's
conversion was the result, and Paulinus, in accordance with the
Papal mandate, made York his archiepiscopal see. A small

YORK AND ITS MINSTER, FROM THE OLD WALLS.

church was hastily built of wood and dedicated to St. Peter,
and in it Edwin was baptized in 627. It was, however, quite
unworthy of being the metropolitan church of the north ; and
was, moreover, inadequate to accommodate the multitudes that
flocked to St. Paulinus for instruction and baptism. As a con-
sequence Edwin, " as soon as he was baptized, took care, by
the direction of the«same Paulinus, to build in the same place
a larger and nobler church of stone, in the midst whereof that
same oratory which he had first erected should be enclosed."
It is said, apparently on good authority, that remains of this
first stone church still exist and form part of the crypt under
the choir of the existing minster. Edwin was slain in battle

728 YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. [Sept.,

in 633, and did not see the completion of his stone church,
which was not finished till the reign of St. Oswald, who
mounted the throne in 634.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF PAPAL SUPREMACY.

St. Paulinus did not confine his apostolate to Northumbria ;
he carried the cross over the Humber into Lindsey — a subordi-
nate, petty kingdom dependent on Mercia, which is now in-
cluded in Lincolnshire. He there converted the governor of
the city of Lincoln with his family, and built in that city a
church of beautiful workmanship. Pope Honorius had sent a
pallium for each of the two English metropolitans, to the in-
tent, as he said, " that when either of them shall be called out
of this world to his Creator, the other may, by this authority
of ours, substitute another bishop in his place." The Pope of
Rome had jurisdiction in the realm of England in those days,
and so we find that when Justus of Canterbury died, in 627,
Honorius, the elect archbishop, came, in compliance with this
papal regulation, to St. Paulinus for consecration, and received
it at his hands in the above-mentioned church at Lincoln.

On the death of Edwin the affairs of Northumbria fell into
great confusion ; the country was split into two, each division
having for its ruler an apostate prince. St. Paulinus, concerned
for the security of his royal charge, Queen Ethelberga and her
children, and seeing no safety for them but in flight, managed
to conduct them by sea into Kent. He was there invested with
the bishopric of Rochester, and died in possession of that see.

The rule of the two apostates over Deira and Bernicia
lasted only a few months ; both were slain in battle by Cad-
walla, King of the Britons, who himself, for a short time, ruled
the two provinces "in a rapacious and bloody manner." In his
turn he was overcome by St. Oswald, "a man beloved by God,"
as Venerable Bede tells us ; and who, just before entering into
battle, set up a cross, and, kneeling before it with his soldiers,
he prayed that God would enable them to free their country
from the tyranny of Cadwalla. St. Oswald became king, and
in after years the good monks of Hexham came yearly on the
eve of the anniversary of his death to the spot where the cross
had stood, there to watch and pray for the health of his soul.

On his accession to the throne the spiritual welfare of his
people at once engaged the attention of St. Oswald. He and
many of his followers had received baptism when in banishment
among the Scots, and it naturally followed that to them he
sent for a teacher for his country. The result was the mission

1896.] YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 729

of St. Aidan, who established his see at Lindisfarne, and for a
short time it became the ecclesiastical centre of the province.
In those days the bishoprics in England were frequently
established away from populous towns, and probably in this
instance Lindisfarne was selected on account of its retired
position, which would recommend it to the taste and habits of
St. Aidan, fresh from the monastic life of lona. He could not
very well have settled in York, since Paulinus, although absent,
was still in canonical possession of the archbishopric, and had
left behind him a representative in the person of James the
Deacon, a holy ecclesiastic who continued to instruct, to
baptize, and to teach the Roman method of singing. It thus
came about that for thirty years after the departure of St.
Paulinus no one was consecrated in his place.

THE EASTER CONTROVERSY.

The doctrine of Papal supremacy is writ deep on the face
of the annals of York. The minster is dedicated to St. Peter,
and along " Petergate " we pass to its west front. St. Wilfrid,
next after Paulinus to hold the see, was an unwavering advocate
of " ultramontane claims." Prior to his elevation to the episco-
pate he appeared as Abbot of Ripon at the council held in
St. Peter's Abbey at Whitby for establishing uniformity as to
the day for the Easter celebration. Amongst others present in
the council were King Oswy ; Hilda, Abbess of Whitby ; Colman,
Bishop of Lindisfarne ; and St. Chad, who all favored the then
British method of computing the date of the festival that had
also been in vogue in Rome prior to 457, and which, due to
the interruption of communication with the Roman authorities
consequent on the Saxon invasion, had remained in use in
Britain long after Rome had authorized the more modern com-
putation. On the other side were Queen Eanfleda, Oswy's son
Alfrid, Agilbert, Bishop of Dorchester, Wilfrid, and James the
Deacon ; these held that it was foolish to hold to old and
faulty custom and thus to set themselves in opposition to the
practice of the rest of the church. Colman defended the
ancient observance on the ground of the practice of his fathers
and the teaching of St. Columba, whilst Wilfrid pleaded that
it was incumbent on them to conform to the decision of
the successors of the most blessed Prince of the Apostles, to
whom our Lord said " I will give thee the keys of kingdom of
heaven." Colman acknowledged that the keys were held by
St. Peter, and, finally convinced by this confession of the

730 YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. [Sept.,

champion of an obsolete custom, the king determined that he
would not be in opposition to the holder of the keys, lest, as he
expressed himself, "when I come to the gates of the kingdom
of heaven there should be none to open them, he being my
adversary who is proved to have the keys."

St. Wilfrid was consecrated Bishop of York in 664, and later
on, without his consent, the diocese was divided by Archbishop
Theodore of Canterbury, at the instigation of Egfrid, King of
Northumbria, into three parts. Against this arbitrary act
Wilfrid, by the advice of some of the bishops, appealed to the
pope. Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, and ipso facto the
highest ecclesiastic in the land, yet knew that his mere insular
authority as primate of all Britain derived all its force from a
still higher universal authority vested by divine appointment in
St. Peter's line ; and so, holding his office, as he would have
acknowledged, by the favor of the Apostolic See, he at once
sent off an advocate to Rome to vindicate his action and to
oppose Wilfrid's appeal. The pope, having heard both parties,
pronounced a final verdict in Wilfrid's favor, and if for a time
the English authorities were contumacious, their non-compliance
with that decision was based on no rejection of Papal jurisdic-
tion ; rather, their plea that the written verdict brought from
Rome was a forgery, or it had been procured by unfair means,
was a tacit acknowledgment of its binding force if genuine.
The time when men put mere temporal considerations on one
side, and make their best preparation for the hereafter — the
hour of death — came to Theodore. He sent for St. Wilfrid,
and asked pardon for the injustice that he had done him ; he
acknowledged that, in having consented with the king to deprive
him of his see, he had sinned against God and St. Peter, and,
as an atonement, he procured from the king his restoration to
his possessions and bishopric. In 697 Wilfrid was a second
time driven from his see ; again an appeal to Rome resulted in
his favor, and again, in this case as in the former, the near ap-
proach of eternity, and true apprehension of the judgment of
God, drew from the saint's persecutor an acknowledgment that,
as in the rest of the Christian world, so in England, the pope
had supreme jurisdiction ; for in his last will, written on what
he thought would be his death-bed, King Alcfrid refers to the
pope's decision in Wilfrid's favor, and promises " if he should
recover he would perform the orders of the Apostolic See ; but
if death prevented him from fulfilling them himself, he left the
performance of them to his heir."

1896.] YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 731

In a paper read at a Catholic Conference in 1891 Cardinal
Vaughan refers to York's devotion to St. Peter in the following
words : " There was great devotion to St. Peter's High Altar
in York Minster. It was here that William I. of Scotland did
homage to Henry II. when, in token of subjection, he deposited
on the altar of St. Peter his breast-plate, spear, and saddle, in
1171. By an immemorial tradition all the faithful of the
diocese of York were obliged to visit St. Peter's altar annually,
and to deposit thereon the sum of one penny ; and the tradi-
tion used to be enforced from time to time in documents which
have come down to our own time."

" St. Peter's image in York, which was .most richly and ex-
pensively gilt and decorated, as can be seen by the bills which
are extant, was a famous object of devotion. By a statute of
the minster it was decreed that a wax candle be kept burning
before St. Peter's image during the whole of the octave of his
feast."

" ' Peter Corn ' was the annual levy of corn, throughout the
diocese of York, ordered by King Atherstone, to be distributed
among the poor in thanksgiving to God and St. Peter for his
victory over the Scots at Dunbar."

St. Peter, in the person of his successor, St. Gregory the
Great, provided that the archbishops of York should have
metropolitan authority over Scotland, and later on, in the per-
son of Pope Clement III., he released that country from such
canonical subjection, and made the Scottish Church immediately
dependent on the Holy See.

From the time of St. Paulinus the archiepiscopate of York
remained in abeyance till the days of Archbishop Egbert ; the
prelates who held the see in the interval were simply bishops
subject to Canterbury, since none of them had been invested
by the popes with the pallium and archiepiscopal jurisdiction.
An addition, by an unknown writer, appended to Bede's history
informs us that in the year 732 Egbert was made Bishop of
York, and says, under the year 735, "Bishop Egbert, having
received the pall from the Apostolic See, was the first con-
firmed archbishop after Paulinus." Egbert was a connecting
link between those two most eminent Anglo-Saxons, Bede and
Alcuin. Under the tuition of Bede he developed that love of
learning which led to his forming the famed library of York,
and under his fostering care York's renowned monastic school
obtained an influence that made itself felt throughout Christen-
dom. Of that school Alcuin, a native of York, was an alumnus,

732

YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS.

[Sept.,

and from Egbert he received a training which resulted in his
becoming the first scholar of his age, and the counsellor and
confidant of Charlemagne, by whom he was made Abbot of St.
Martin's at Tours. A letter of Alcuin's gives us some idea of
the estimation in which the school and library of York and its
venerable archbishop were held in France. It appears that
Charlemagne proposed to found certain schools after the
model of that of York in his own dominions. Alcuin writes to
him on the subject, and says : " Give me the more polished
volumes of scholastic learning, such as I used to have in my own

"WALTER DE GREY COMMENCED THE SOUTH TRANSEPT IN 1230."

country, through the laudable and ardent industry of my master,
Archbishop Egbert, and, if it please your wisdom, I will send
some of our youths, who may obtain thence whatever is neces-
sary, and bring back into France the flowers of Britain, that
the garden of Paradise be not confined to York, but that some
of its offshoots may be transplanted to Tours." The fame of
Alcuin redounded to the honor and credit of his alma mater
and of his master the good archbishop, and it would be almost
impossible to overestimate the benefits reaped by Christendom
from his influence in the councils of Charlemagne.

The " flowers of Britain " were transplanted into France

1896.] YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 733

none too soon, for even before the death of Alcuin the Danes
were commencing their predatory attacks on England. Their
first irruption took place in 787 ; they came in large num-
bers in 793 ; in 867 they took York, and throughout the whole
district from the Tyne to the Tweed " they destroyed the
churches and monasteries far and wide with fire and sword,
leaving nothing remaining save the bare unroofed walls." Not
the least of the calamities that they inflicted was the destruc-
tion of the school of York. However, the church that had con-
verted and civilized its Saxon persecutors soon transformed
the heathen Danes into devout followers of the cross, and in
no particular more sincere than in their devotion to York's
great tutelar saint — St. Peter, and to St. Peter's successors.

The year 1066 saw the coming of William the Conqueror
and the Norman conquest of England. To the Archbishop
of Canterbury appertained by long custom the right to crown
the kings of England. Stigand, the then archbishop, was
an intruder, and not recognized by Rome. The new king,
who would acknowledge no authority higher than his own in
the state, was just as determined to support and enforce obe-
dience to such an authority in the church, and so, as Simeon
of Durham tells us, in 1066 " he went with his army to Lon-
don, and was there elevated to the throne ; and because Sti-
gand, Archbishop of Canterbury, was charged by the apostolic
pope with not having received the pall canonically, on Christ-
mas day he was solemnly consecrated at Westminster by Al-
dred, Archbishop of York."

NORMAN FOUNDATION OF YORK MINSTER.

The minster erected by St. Paulinus was burnt down in 741 ;
the church built to take its place shared the same fate, together
with Archbishop Egbert's library, in 1068. Again it was re-
built by Archbishop Thomas, only to be again burnt down in
1137. With the exception of the part of the crypt already
mentioned, no part of the existing minster dates back earlier
than the episcopate of Walter de Grey, who commenced the
present south transept between 1230 and 1241. The whole
building was completed by the end of the fifteenth century.

The question of ways and means in the rebuilding of the
successive minsters was, of course, a very serious one even in
those days of practical Christianity. The archbishops set noble
examples of self-denying generosity ; Archbishop Melton con-
tributed £700 and Archbishop Thursby £1,267 — figures which
VOL. LXIII. — 47

734 YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. [Sept.,

at present-day value very inadequately represent the worth of
their donations. In the means adopted for raising the necessary
funds one characteristic article of the faith of the builders comes
out, and is evidence of the absurdity of the claim to " continu-
ity" preached within the walls of the minster by the aliens from
the old faith who are now in possession. For the purpose of
raising these funds indulgences were granted at various times
to those who " were truly contrite and had confessed their sins."
The register of Archbishop Walter de Grey (1215-1255) is full of
indulgences granted for this purpose. Jocelin, Bishop of Salis-
bury (tempo Henry II.), released from forty days of penance all
such as bountifully contributed towards the re-edification of York
minster. Archbishop Melton also granted indulgences for. the
same purpose ; as also did Popes Innocent VI. and Urban V.

In 1140 Archbishop Thurstan, "finding the time of his war-
fare nearly accomplished," as William of Newburgh tells us,
"relinquished his dignity; and, excusing himself from its burdens,
passed his last days with the Cluniac monks at Pontefract."
To fill the vacancy thus created St. William of York, treasurer
of the minster and nephew of King Stephen, was by Stephen
nominated to the see, elected by a majority of the chapter,
and consecrated by the pope's legate, Henry of Winchester.

THE POPE THE SUPREME SPIRITUAL AUTHORITY.

The conge (fMire and nomination by the sovereign to an arch-
bishopric in the Anglican Church of to-day carry with them
all the force of a final appointment, since the part taken by
the chapter, to whom the conge" cTJlire is addressed, is merely
to endorse what is virtually a royal appointment against which
there is no appeal. It was far different in those happy days
when the Catholic Church was the one church of England.
Royal nominations were then accepted only when they com-
mended themselves to the supreme authority, which was not
the king but the pope, and so, notwithstanding the good will of
the church in England, and notwithstanding his royal nomina-
tion and consecration by the Papal legate, we find St. William
first sending, then going in person to the feet of the Holy
Father to beg the pall and Papal confirmation. The pope, in-
fluenced by the great St. Bernard, deposed St. William, and
afterwards wrote, as John of Hexham relates, " to the Bishop
of Durham and the chapter of York, requiring them within
forty days after the receipt of his epistle to elect in his stead
a man of learning, judgment, and piety." In obedience to this

1896.] YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 73$

mandate the superior clergy of the diocese of York met,
and, as their suffrages were divided between Henry Murdac,
Abbot of Fountains, and Master Hilary, the pope's clerk, once
again the voice of St. Peter's successor was heard, settling the
claims of the rival candidates and consecrating Henry of Foun-
tains for the archbishopric. St. William was thoroughly imbued
with the truth so explicitly taught in mediaeval times — that the
pope is the source of all spiritual jurisdiction — and so, when
his nomination and consecration were disregarded, he did not
for one moment assert anything so unheard-of as the superior
authority of his royal appointment, nor did he question the
right of the pope to fill the see as he had done. Without a
murmur or complaint he retired to Winchester, living with the
monks there, " and prized their holiness of life as much as that
of angels, eating and drinking with them, and sleeping in their
dormitory." Henry of York died in 1153, and St. William was
a second time elected to the archiepiscopal chair. To satisfy
the wishes of his friends, he again started for Rome to beg for
confirmation of his election and the pall. Success crowned his
efforts and he was reinstated in the see. He returned to Eng-
land, and at his entrance into York so great a crowd thronged
forth to meet him that the bridge over the Ouse gave way be-
neath the weight, so that men, women, and children fell into
the river. The saint made the sign of the cross over the water,
and by his prayers brought it about that not a single one was
drowned. He was canonized by Nicholas III. about 1280.

CARDINAL WOLSEY AT YORK.

Cardinal Wolsey was preferred to York in 1515. It was un-
fortunate for the archdiocese that the exigencies of state ren-
dered the great and commanding diplomatic skill of its arch-
bishop indispensable in the councils of a king who numbered an
emperor in the ranks of his armies, and who aspired to be the
arbiter of the destinies of Europe. Wolsey rose in influence with
the success of the policy he directed till he became the first
statesman of his age. The day came when he learned from
experience the folly of putting any trust in princes ; he lost
the favor of Henry VIII. and was banished to York. It was
in those, the closing days of his life, that misfortune and
adversity brought out the real lovable side of his character
and all those virtues which go to make up the typical Cath-
olic bishop. Cavendish tells us that at this period he on one
occasion visited St. Oswald's Abbey, near York, and there con-
firmed children from 8 A. M. till 12 noon ; then making a short

736 YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. [Sept.,

dinner, he returned to the church at I o'clock to confirm more
children till 4 P. M. The next morning before he departed he
confirmed nearly a hundred children more, and then rode on
his journey, and coming to a stone cross on the wayside he
found assembled two hundred more children ; he alighted and
confirmed them all. We read of Wolsey that, after his arrest
on a charge of high treason and when he was passing through
Cawood in charge of his guards, "the people ran crying after
him through the town, they loved him so well." What a world
of regret that the life spent in statecraft had not been devoted,
as were his last few weeks at York, to the higher and nobler
calling of his episcopal office, is contained in the dying words
of the great cardinal. " If," said he, " I had served God as
diligently as I have done the king, he would not have given
me over in my gray hairs." Yes, poor cardinal ! and in that
case the tears shed at your arrest would have been seen through-
out old England and not confined to the poor people of the
diocese of York, in which your better self had become known.

THE PILGRIMAGE OF GRACE.

The Reformation, like a deadly miasma, overspread the
land, and so obnoxious was the Reformed religion to the
people of England that in all directions they stood up to fight
or die for the old faith. Devonshire and Norfolk ; Lincolnshire,
Lancashire, Yorkshire, and the whole North of England, took
up arms rather than submit to the plundering of the monks,
the destruction of the monasteries, and rejection of the pope's
supremacy. The history of the rising in Yorkshire — known as
the " Pilgrimage of Grace " — shows us that York and its people
were in the forefront of the battle for the old church. "The
whole movement," as Dr. F. G. Lee, Protestant rector of All
Saints, Lambeth, tells us, "was marked by a complete absence
of selfishness on the part of its promoters, and by the active
presence and energy of the highest type of loyalty — loyalty to
God's revealed truth." The Convocation of York met at Pon-
tefract and demanded that " the recent statutes which had ab-
rogated that ancient and legitimate authority of the pope,
known since the time of St. Austin ; suppressed the monas-
teries ; declared Mary, the daughter of Queen Katherine, illegi-
timate, and bestowed on the king the tithes and first-fruits of
all benefices, must be at once, each one and every one, re-
pealed." The movement assumed such serious proportions that
the king at length issued a public proclamation promising re-
dress of all grievances, and granting a free pardon to all who

1896.]

YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS.

737

had taken part in the rising. Robert Aske, the leader of "the
Pilgrims," and other prominent supporters of the movement,
were induced to proceed to London to confer with Henry; but
no sooner were the bands of the Pilgrims dispersed than he
showed to what a depth of infamy he could descend when it
served his purpose. Aske was taken to York and ignominious-
ly hanged in chains ; others of the leaders were executed at
Tyburn or burnt at Smithfield, and throughout the towns and
villages of the North the mutilated, decomposing corpses of less
prominent promoters of the rising told of a king's perjury and
of the steadfast perseverance unto death of his victims, and,
as we remember the cause of the sufferings of these holy mar-

SAINTLY MARGARET CLITHEROE WAS MARTYRED HERE.

tyrs, we feel the warm blood throbbing in our veins with an
eager desire to emulate their constancy and to show ourselves
not unworthy of that glorious heritage they have handed down.

DAYS OF MARTYRDOM.

The final scene in the ghastly drama that culminated in the
supplanting of the old by the new church came at last. Pole,
Cardinal-Archbishop of Canterbury, and patient, long-suffering
Queen Mary, passed to a better world on one and the same
day. As a consequence Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York —
the last of the old line of Catholic archbishops in the country
—found himself at the head of the church in England at the
most momentou^ crisis in its history. Nobly he headed the
heroic bench of bishops, who, with one exception, stood firm as
a rock in their opposition to Elizabeth's ecclesiastical policy

738 YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. [Sept.,

and the revolution against authority that hailed her as its
leader. When summoned to appear before the queen, and told
either to take the new oath of supremacy or resign their sees,
Heath, who had shown his loyalty by mainly contributing to
secure for Elizabeth the undisturbed succession to the crown, re-
fused, in his own name and in that of his colleagues, to take
the oath, since the Fathers and the great Councils of the church
all proclaimed Rome as the Head of that Church which their
Divine Master had founded. In 1560 Heath, in conjunction
with the other bishops, all of whom had been deprived except
Kitchen of Llandaff, wrote to Matthew Parker, Protestant
Archbishop of Canterbury, "a letter terrifying of the Reformed
bishops and clergy of the Church of England, with curses and
other threatenings, for not acknowledging the Papal tribunal."
Parker replies : " Ye have separated yourselves . . . from
us," and "ye permit one man to have all the members of your
Saviour Christ Jesus under his subjection. . . . Ye have
made it sacrilege to dispute of his fact, heresy to doubt of his
power, paganism to disobey him, and blasphemy against the
Holy Ghost to act or speak against his decrees." If, instead of
condemning them, it had been Parker's intention to have set
the bishops before us as exemplars of self-sacrificing fidelity
to God's Holy Church and His Vicar, he could scarcely have
expressed himself in words more certain to elicit our loving
admiration for these grand confessors. After five years spent
in a dark, unwholesome dungeon in the Tower of London
Heath was sent back to York, and, on some paltry pretence, it
was determined by the queen in council that he, an old man
of eighty, should be tortured, pinched, or thumb-screwed.

Our sketch would be incomplete if it contained no reference
to saintly Margaret Clitheroe, for having harbored and main-
tained Jesuits and seminary priests, and for unlawfully hearing
Mass, this most heroic woman was martyred at York under
circumstances of the most fiendish brutality. In her trial she
gave as her reason for non-compliance with the " new church "
her belief "in that One Church, not made by man, which hath
Seven Sacraments and one unalterable Faith." In that church
she expressed her determination to live and die. In accordance
with the sentence passed on her, she was first divested of her
clothing, her hands and feet were tied, and she was stretched
out at full length with a large flint stone of many sharp angles
placed beneath the centre of her back. Upon her breast was
placed a stout oak door, and for a quarter of an hour a quan-

1896.] YORK MINSTER AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 739

tity of heavy stones were piled thereon, one after another, till
a weight of near on half a ton had accumulated. The sicken-
ing sight lasted till at last a heavier stone was pitched on to
the rest, and then the continually repeated invocation, " O Jesu,
good Jesu, have mercy upon me ! " ceased once and for ever,
and the tired soul, crushed out of the mangled body, took its
flight, and faithfulness unto death was rewarded with the crown
of life and the ever-abiding presence of the "good Jesu" who
had supported her in her agonizing trial, and then taken her
to himself.

Admiration beyond the power of words to express takes
possession of us when we see this gentle, defenceless woman,
professing, in the presence of the enemies of the old church,
her faith in its creed, and willingness to die for the same ; and
when we think of her constancy and glorious triumph the Te
Deum bursts spontaneously from our lips in thanksgiving to
Almighty God that he allows us to share the same holy faith
that led her to look on the martyr's crown as the choicest of-
fering to lay at the feet of our Lord.

Three hundred years have passed since Margaret Clitheroe's
time, and now once again many of those who worship in the
old minster are turning Romeward with the conviction that
only by submission to the Apostolic See can they recover that
unity of faith lost to them at the Reformation, and there are
grounds to justify the hope that the Mass shall again be heard
within its walls, and that once again the people assembled
therein shall be bidden " to pray for Christ's Holy Catholic'
Church, and for the Pope, its supreme Head on earth."

740 THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR. [Sept.,

THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR.

*Y sister Nellie had finished her course of studies
at Norton College, Longshore, N. Y., and taken
her diploma, being graduated with distinction.
She had come home to Illinois in June, and en-
joyed some weeks with me, mostly on horseback
— Nellie rides like an empress ; she of Austria I am thinking
of — and then had packed my grips and carried me an unwilling
bachelor to that more than American Como, Lake George, for
the season. But what was a fellow to do ? Given his sister
just from school, with no other relatives nearer than remote
cousins in the whole wide world, notwithstanding bachelorhood
of forty-five and a lazy, stay-at-home disposition — what was a
fellow to do but be agreeable and go play father, escort, chap-
eron, and discreet elder brother all in one ? That is exactly
what I did. A more delightful, healthful, romantic, and pleasur-
able summer brother and sister never had than the one Nellie
and I spent that season at Lake George. The loth of August
of the same year found us back at home. To enjoy the quiet
and comfort of an old-fashioned mansion in the prairie country
near enough to Chicago not to be out of the world ?

No, my dear reader. Miss Nellie Burrbridge had completed
her education, as I have informed you, at Norton College,
Longshore, in June.

We were at home to pack trunks, lock up the house, entrust
it to a care-taker, and be off to France, Miss Burrbridge to
finish abroad what she had completed at home. Some school-
girl friend, graduating two years before, had returned from
France for the commencement at Norton in June ; had told
Miss Nellie of a wonderful instructress in harp-music at a con-
vent in the South of France, conducted by the Daughters of
Charity. What more natural? Miss Burrbridge wished to
perfect her French and be instructed in the manipulation of
that divine instrument, the harp. To France then we were
going.

Saturday, August 21, found us at Pier No. 38, North River.
September found us at Paris, at the Lyons depot.

September 25 we took carriages at La Tour Farreauchette

1896.] THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR. 741

for Chateau De La Rocca — otherwise an academy of the Daugh-
ters of Charity. The afternoon of that day, after an enchant-
ing drive, we alighted at the Chateau De La Rocca, handed
our cards to the portress for the mother-superior, and were
shown into the parlor to await the pleasure of her distinguished
presence; and we had some time to wait. The parlor might
well be termed • a salon — long, spacious, furnished with ele-
gance and exquisite taste, unusual, I should fancy, in convent
parlors. But this convent had been the country-seat of the
De La Rocca family until very recent years, when the last of
the line, Mme. La Bain-Farreauchette, a widow and childless,
had given it to the Daughters of Charity for a higher academy
for young ladies.

While waiting for the mother-superior I had time to look
about me. On the wall, hung low to catch the light, was a
large painting of a beach-scene. I looked closely at it. There
was no doubt of it. There is but one scene like it in the
whole world — the beach at Galveston, Texas. I looked closer
still. There, half embedded in the sand, was the trunk of a
grand old cypress-tree. Many a time in the early morning
and late at night I rested on the trunk of the tree of which
this was the picture.

" Bridge " — it is so Nellie always addresses me — " what is
there about that painting that so engrosses your attention ? "

Before I could answer Mme. Huitville, the superioress, had
entered and stood, cards in hand, bowing with a grace and
dignity truly pleasing to see. If the picture had attracted my
attention Mme. Huitville astonished me — no, positively startled
me. I had surely seen her before. Why, I had even been
present at her marriage and death. And there she stood smil-
ing at me, and saying in most excellent English, " Mr. Burr-
bridge, I believe ; and your sister, Miss Nellie, who comes to
us for a time."

Miss Burrbridge, presently established in her quarters, had
come down to the parlor and kissed me good-by, and I was
soon driving back to La Tour Farreauchette to catch the Paris
express via Lyons.

What long, long thoughts will come to a man shut up in a
railway compartment alone during a long, long ride ?

II.

In the fall of 1870 I was ordered South by the doctors. In
fact I was to go below the frost-line, and remain until June.

742 THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR. [Sept.,

Nellie was then three years old, an orphan and my ward.
What was I to do ? An invalid, I could not take the child
with me. But go I must, or have the pleasure of being the
least interested party at a funeral in the spring. So said two
eminent physicians of Chicago. Old Mrs. Stone, my house-
keeper, quietly settled the matter: "Do as the doctors bid
you, Mr. Burrbridge. I will look out for Nellie, keep house,
and send you word of affairs from time to time." So I went
South.

November 27, 1870, I landed in the City of Galveston, tired,
jaded, weak, and miserable. I went to my room and ordered
supper served there. A mulatto boy came with a tray, and
laid the cover and served me. He opened my grips for me,
prepared my bath, and, somewhat to my astonishment, let
down a large mosquito-net about the bed, and tucked it in
under the mattresses on three sides. I groaned. Mosquitoes
in winter! I will be obliged to wing it again. My supper
finished, a smoke, my bath, and to bed. Sleep is always good ;
but sleep to an invalid worn with travel is the balm of Para-
dise. And how well I slept the night long ! Before five I was
awake, and up and dressed, surprising the. scrub-women as I
passed through the lobby of the hotel to the street. As I
reached the corner I heard the bells of a church sound in a
short, loud jingle, and so bent my steps that way, passing
through a quaint old street, with here a brick building and
there a shanty. At one door was a second-hand furniture
store, and at the other a Dago fruit-stand. Then a yard with
a low, one-story house — frame, of course — with a wondrous
rose-bush in full bloom running across the front of it, and
along one side. Over the gate, trained to a trellis, a Mare"chal
Niel blooming as I had not seen one bloom before. No one
in sight, either about the house or the street, to ask for or
buy from ; I leisurely helped myself, and walked on to
the old church, now in full view. I am neither churchman nor
pious, and yet somehow I was attracted to the old pile. I got
to^ know it well afterwards during my winter in Galveston.
Who built it, or when, I never learned ; but one might take it
for an old adobe church of the Franciscan friars, and that
morning, as I entered, I expected to see amidst a dilapidated
interior some of the brown or black or white-robed brother-
hood. But I was mistaken. This was the Catholic cathedral
of the city, and on the morning of November 28, 1870, it was
empty save for myself ; a tall, stately woman without bonnet,

1896.] THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR. 743

her head covered with a white something, half-shawl, half-veil,
half-lace, half-wool ; a lovely child of fourteen or fifteen years,
and an old colored woman, who knelt behind mistress and
child.

A very old priest came forth, clad in golden robes, preceded
by a boy in scarlet and lace. A more beautiful picture I never
saw. The old man, with silver hair and feeble step, with a
devotion that shone in his face with the light of another world ;
the boy so beautiful, so young and small that he was scarcely
able to carry the mass-book ; with eyes that danced with youth
and life and fun, but yet a copy of the old priest's reverent
walk and manner and mien. Son of Adam that I am and was,
I lingered on through the Mass service — to pray ? to scoff ?
Neither. I stayed to see the face of that queenly form some
pews ahead of me, so devoutly wrapped in prayer.

The service finished, all three rose to depart, and faced me
coming down the aisle. The mother — evidently the mother —
tall, dark, blue-black eyes, grace itself as she swept a low bow
to the altar, on reaching the aisle from her pew. The daughter
— surely the daughter — tall for her age, dark hair, eyes, and
complexion. The old mammy — who else ? — like the one and
like the other, and yet only an old quadroon servant. They
passed by me and out into the sunlit street.

Good breeding required that I should wait till I heard their
footsteps on the stones of the steps before I followed, though
the vision of beauty and wonderfully striking resemblance of
all three urged me after them in curiosity. But before I left
my pew I heard the rattle of carriage wheels and the trot of
horses, and when I gained the door no one was in sight.

A street railway passes the cathedral directly in front of it,
and a car going by as I came out, I boarded it, trending I knew
not exactly whither, only I knew toward the gulf side of the
city. It landed me on the beach. Galveston beach ! There it
was before me, seeming to me to stretch miles away in one
long marble avenue, guarded on one side by the opal surf of
the gulf, and on the other by the sand-hills of the island's
edge ; sparkling as though set with gems ; cool, though flashing
sunlight back and forth ; sweet with the perfume of the ocean's
incense, borne north by the gulf breeze which softly whispers
to the sands all day long.

I no longer felt an invalid. I wandered up this glorious
beach, as though walking through the great aisles leading to
the golden 'yond. How far I walked I know not, only when I

744 THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR. [Sept.,

turned back I was tired and weak; had foolishly overtaxed
myself and had to rest on the trunk of a huge cypress em-
bedded in the sand. Then I started on again. A gentleman
on horseback overtook me, and, noticing my weakness, dis-
mounted and kindly offered me his saddle.

By what art is it ? Surely these Southern gentlemen can
offer a courtesy with an ease and dignity and kindness that
other men do not possess. When we reached the tramway I
dismounted, thanked him, and we exchanged cards. His bore
the name of Gaston R. Tunnley. I reached the hotel, and, after
brandy and raw eggs and a little rest, breakfasted, and break-
fasted well, seeming none the worse for my morning's adventure.

The next day I went into private quarters, and was much
pleased to find that I had as companion-boarder, and no one elser
Gaston R. Tunnley, of Tunnley Springs, Tenn.; also of Tunnley
plantation, Deautin Parish, La. Rather swell and rather Eng-
lish, I thought. But he had served in the Rebellion on the
Southern side, as his sires had served in the Revolution on the
American side ; so I was mistaken, you see. It was now the
end of May, 1871.

I had announced that I was to start North the second week
of June. One evening, on the beach, Tunnley asked me if I
would do him a favor, and serve as a witness to a marriage in
the parlor of our boarding-house on the following evening.
" My mother will arrive to-morrow, and be the other witness."

" Certainly," I said ; and as the information was not volun-
teered, I did not ask whose wedding it was to be. A note on
my table told me that I would be expected in the parlor at
eight o'clock. I put on my dress-suit — how was I to know? —
and walked along the hall and across it to the parlor. I was
introduced to Mrs. Tunnley, a proud, stately old lady whose
acknowledgment of the introduction seemed like scorn. I was
introduced also to Pere Duquoin, the old clergyman I had seen
the first day I was in Galveston. I was introduced by Tunn-
ley, being now somewhat confused, to " My daughter Nolita ;
and this is Mammy Nola." All these were my friends of the
cathedral, the handsome child and the handsome old quadroon
negress. Then I went with Tunnley to the end of the room,
and was introduced to " My wife, Mrs. Tunnley." " It is only
for form's sake, Mr. Burrbridge," said Tunnley ; " and we wish
a witness on Nolita's account." Then they were married over
again by Pere Duquoin, and I and Mrs. Tunnley, Sr., signed
the papers.

1896.] THE PAINTING IN THE CONVENT PARLOR. 745

Then Mrs. Tunnley, Jr., drew from her bosom a paper yel-
low with age and, smiling, offered it to me to read. What I
read was as follows :

" Be it known that I, John Weston, in Iberville, La., con-
trary to the laws of the State, but as I deem right according
to the laws of God, did jine (sic) Gaston R. Tunnley and
Magnolia Tunnley " (slaves take the name of their masters) " as
man and wife. Witnesses of the said act are old Mrs. Nola
Tunnley, black, and myself. Signed by my hand this day,
June the I2th, 1859.

"JOHN WESTON, Preacher, white, M. E. Church. Amen."

Two weeks later I was in the same parlor at the death of
the same woman, and I wept to see the end so sad and yet
so peaceful. Consumption had claimed her for its own. There
she reclined, poor gentle soul ! On one side the husband, A.
Tunnley, of Tunnley Springs, broken with sorrow ; on the other
the old mother of the husband, with one arm about little
Nolita and one about her newly-found daughter's neck, kissing
away in tears the sorrow of years of scorn ; at the foot of the
couch the old negress, with streaming eyes and throbbing
heart ; Pere Duquoin, with choked voice, vainly endeavoring to
recite the prayers for the dying ; and she, smiling in the face
of death, more beautiful than when I first saw her, on that
sunny morn, in the old cathedral of Galveston.

III.

A man will have long, long thoughts when he rides alone
on a long, long journey. Madame Huitville ! Why the change
of name from Nolita Tunnley ?

How like the mother as I saw her at Mass service in the
old cathedral at Galveston ! Evidently she did not recognize
me, nor my name. I did not return to the Chateau De La
Rocca to bring Nellie away, but met her at Lyons. Her let-
ters to me contained little or nothing of Madame Huitville.

We are back at home now here in the prairie country. In
the evening Nellie plays for me on her harp. She was taught
" to manipulate that divine instrument " very well.

746 THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. [Sept.,

THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE.

BY ANNA T. SADLIER.

[CHELLING has said that the poetry of Dante is
prophetic and typical of all modern poetry, em-
bracing all its characteristics, and springing out
of its intricately mingled materials. He goes
further, and declares that all who would know
modern poetry, not superficially but at the fountain-head, should
train themselves by this great and mighty spirit.

The qualities of poetic excellence, by which the mystic spirit
of the dead Florentine has so stamped itself upon the culture
of this and other generations, excite wonder or provoke admir-
ation in a variety of ways. His masterful handling of the ele-
gant tongue he employed, his power of condensed expression,
his simplicity, his directness, his earnestness, his tenderness, his
marvellous fancy, portraying

" Armies of angels that soar, or demons that lurk,"

are less astounding, perhaps, than his attention to small details ;
his pausing, brush in hand, before the stupendous aim he has
in view, to paint a succession of pictures.

In the very first lines of the Inferno there is presented a
selva-oscura, a selva selvaggia, a dark and savage forest, jagged
of aspect ; its rugged trees, its thick-massed foliage, the haunt of
nameless terrors. Desolation seizes upon the poet. He feels
it in the intensity of his being — il lago del cor: in the lake of
his heart.

Ruskin remarks upon the character of horror given by
Dante to his forests, in contradistinction to Homer and the
Greeks on the one hand, Shakspere and the English song-writers
on the other. To them a forest is a place for merriment, adven-
ture, thought, contemplation. To Dante the embodiment of
grim terror. On leaving the city of Dis the poet, with his
guide, Virgil, comes upon a forest "thick crowded with ghosts";
and again, in the thirteenth canto of the Inferno, reaches one
" whereof the foliage is not green, but of a dusky color ; nor
the branches smooth, but gnarled and intertangled ; not apple-
trees, but thorns with poison."

1896.] THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. 747

The trees of this wood are, indeed, living and suffering
entities. Upon the borders of Paradise, however, is the heav-
enly forest, dense and living green, which tempered to the eyes
the new-born day.

Dante, delivered from the terrors of that first wood by Vir-
gil, who is described as one " from long silence hoarse," revives
as " flowers, bowed by the nocturnal chill, uplift themselves
and open on their stem when the sun whitens them."

The poets pass on through "the brown air," approaching
night " releasing the animals of earth from their toils." Arrived
before the sorrowful city, they see the sentence of despair in-
scribed there in " dim " coloring, and the boatman with wheels
of flame about his eyes. Through the " dusky " air Dante
descries hosts of souls. Scarce could he believe death had
so many undone. The " dim " champaign trembles, bathed
in vermilion light. Dante is overcome by sleep. He wakens
upon the verge of the dolorous abyss, whence come sounds of
infinite woe. It is dark, profound, nebulous — his vision, seeking
the depths, can naught discern.

In the first circle, no wild lamentations, but sighs that
" make tremble the eternal air," sighs for the late-known felici-
ty, evermore unattainable. The gloom is broken by a hemi-
sphere of fire. A moated and seven-walled castle arises ; around
it a meadow freshly green, a spot " luminous and lofty," wherein
are the company of spirits, deprived through want of knowledge
of the celestial inheritance. Thence the poets go forth from
the quiet to the "air that trembles" and the "places where
nothing shines."

The succession of images hitherto has depended almost en-
tirely upon the choice or arrangement of single words. Ver-
milion light, trembling air, nebulous depths, the tearful land,
the hemisphere of fire overcoming darkness; "the grave, slow"
eyes of the unsuffering but unsatisfied spirits in Limbo, lead
to the dolorous hostelry of the second circle, with its roaring
as of tempestuous seas and battling winds. Dante makes fre-
quent use of sound to express indifferently horror, the chas-
tened suffering of Purgatory, or the infinite glory above.

In Hell, roaring of waves or of win.ds, dire laments, doleful
sighs, the reverberation of falling waters, the horrible crashing
of a whirlpool, gnashing of teeth, snarling of curs, hissing of
reptiles, bellowing of bulls, blasphemous shrieks, ferocious jab-
bering, and a confusion of sounds as of kettledrums, trumpets,
bells, so that "never yet was bagpipe so uncouth."

748 THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. [Sept.,

In Purgatory, chanting of repentant souls, strains as of a
mighty organ, melodious singing, gracious and glad salutations,
dulcet notes, voices of angels, orisons or the narration of holy
deeds done, the joyful cry which proclaims the release of a
spirit.

In the Terrestrial Paradise, the sweetness of little birds
singing, "with full ravishment, the hours of prime," delicious
melodies and the music of the eternal spheres. In Heaven,

" Voices diverse make up sweet melodies ;

The seats diverse
Render sweet harmony among the spheres."

The wondrous songs, sounds of praise, and the singing of hosan-
nas, so that

" Never since to hear again was I without desire."

The poet, indeed, declares that these heavenly sounds can be
comprehended only there, " where joy is made eternal."

In the " black air " of the second circle, Dante meets souls
as starlings in large bands, or cranes in long lines. An infer-
nal hurricane smites and hurtles them. In the " purple " air
of the lower circle the pathetic accents of Francesca are heard;
tragedy of tragedies sounded from the depths of eternal woe.
Incongruously beautiful in its infinite sorrow, tenderness, appre-
ciation of the pity expressed for the crime which it chronicles,
or the abyss in which that crime is punished. For it is the
deepest horror of hell that thence all nobleness, beauty, pathos
even, are swallowed up in the inconceivable calamity, whence
no second death may deliver.

In the third circle, with its " tenebrous air," its water sombre-
hued, the sad rivulet of Styx with "malign gray shores," those
who sullen were in the sweet sun-gladdened air are sullen
evermore in " sable mire."

Dante expresses by the darkness of the air an intensity of
horror. He multiplies adjectives to enforce this idea. Per-
chance the rare brilliancy of the Italian skies suggested a
powerful contrast. In the approach to Purgatory he dwells,
conversely, on "the cloudless aspect of the pure air"; in the
Terrestrial Paradise the air is luminous ; in the first heaven

" Luminous, dense, consolidate and bright
As adamant on which the sun is striking."

Dante almost invariably employs the symbolism of color,
no doubt suggested to his mind somewhat by the liturgy of

1896.] THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. 7407

the church. His gray, his black, his purple, his brown usually
express malignity, terror, despair, sorrow, or suffering. His
red or vermilion indifferently represent the lurid lights of the
Inferno, or " th.e white and vermilion cheeks of beautiful
Aurora," as, emerging from hell, he stands upon the sea-shore;
perceiving a light " of unknowable whiteness," the Angel of God.

Green, emphatically the color of hope, overspreads the land-
scape, when the poet has escaped from "the night profound
that ever black makes the infernal valley." He comes upon
green meadows, and beholds two angels with wings the color
of the " new-born leaflets." The poet, on his first escape from
the dismal half-lights of the eternal prison, fairly revels in
richness of coloring. He sees in the air "the sweet color of
the oriental sapphire," and herbage and flowers " surpassing
gold and fine silver, scarlet and pearl-white, the Indian wood
resplendent and serene, and fresh emerald, the moment it is
broken."

The stages of the purgatorial purification are hinted at in
the color of the "angel's garment, now sober-hued, the color of
ashes, now lucent and red," now white, or of dazzling radiance,
as also in the steps of divers-tinted marble, variously of white,
of deeper hue than Perse or of porphyry flaming red.

In the Terrestrial Paradise the beautiful lady is walking upon
vermilion and yellow flowerets, the skies are tinged with rose,
and the Tree of Life is " less of rose than violet." Those taking
part in that wondrous pageant of the Church Militant, which is
in itself a series of vivid and wonderful word-pictures, wear
garlands of rose or other flowers vermilion, are incoronate with
fleur-de-luce or verdant leaf, are vested in purple, or so red
that in the fire had scarce been noted, or as if out of emerald
the flesh and blood were fashioned, or of snow new fallen.
One is of gold, so far as he was bird, and white the others
with vermilion mingled. Beatrice wears a snow-white veil with
olive cinct, a green mantle and vesture the color of the living
flame.

Even in the eternal spheres there is "the yellow of the
Rose Eternal," the snow-white Rose of the heavenly host, the
angelic spirits, with faces of living flame, wings of gold, and all
the rest so white no snow unto that limit doth attain. Even
"the Highest Light" is described as of threefold color, and
" by the second seemed the first reflected, as Iris by Iris."

As the poets pursue their way downwards through Bolgia
after Bolgia the horror is intensified ; the images, growing ever
VOL. LXIII. — 48

750 THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. [Sept.,

more abundant, are usually loathsome as terrific. It is with a
sense of relief that familiar and pleasing, if somewhat homely,
.•similitudes are encountered. In the dense and darksome
atmosphere where souls are tormented under a rain of fire
there is a figure of a swimmer coming toward the poets :

" Even as he returns who goeth down,
Sometimes to clear an anchor which has grappled
Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden."

A comparison is made between the fearful " fissure of Male-
bolge " and the "Arsenal of the Venetians," and the giants, like
towers, are seen through a vanishing fog, which suffers the
sight to refigure whate'er the mist conceals.

In the Purgatory souls appear,

"As do the blind, in want of livelihood,

Stand at the door of churches asking alms " ;
or,

"As the little stork that lifts its wings

With a desire to fly, and does not venture."

In the twenty-eighth canto are three such familiar illustra-
tions in swift succession: "the swift and venturesome goats
grown passive while ruminating"; the herdsman leaning on his
staff, watching them, hushed in the shadow while the sun is
hot, and the shepherd watching by night to protect his quiet
flock from wild beasts.

These homely similitudes continue side by side with the
sublime imagery of the Paradise. The poet hears the murmur
of a river descending from rock to rock, or the sound upon
the cithern's neck, or vent of rustic pipe. The splendid shades
of the seventh heaven gather like rooks, who

" Together at the break of day
Bestir themselves to warm their feathers cold."

The truth as presented to her poet-lover by Beatrice is as
a taper's flame in a looking-glass.

Natural scenery, or some image or association of ideas
therewith connected, distract the mind from the inspired mysti-
cism of the Paradise, or the solemnity of Purgatory, as they
raise it from " the black air " of the lower gulf to " the life beau-
tiful, the life serene," for so this earthly existence is patheti-
cally called by the lost spirits ; as though, forgetting its woes,
they remember only its possibilities of happiness, its human

1896.] THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. 751

sympathies, and the beauties which meet the eye and cheer the
heart.

Thus, meeting a company of ruined sonls, headed by his
former preceptor, Brunetto Latini, they observe the two poets
" as at evening we are wont to eye each other under a new
moon," and in the repulsive atmosphere of a lower Bolgia
there is the reminder of a mountain lake :

" Above in beauteous Italy lies a lake
At the Alps' foot that shuts in Germany."

The hell of thieves, whence the unrepentant souls hurl
defiance at the Creator, opens with the peaceful picture " of
hoar frost, copying on the ground the outward semblance of
her sister white," and the husbandman looking out upon the
landscape.

The border-land of Purgatory is one continued succession of
beautiful images, sapphire-colored skies, the consecrated stars
ne'er seen but by the primal peoples, the dawn breaking over
that never-navigated sea, the trembling of the waves, il tremo-
lar deir onde, and the angel with countenance like the tremu-
lous morning star. The sun flaming red is broken only by the
shadow of the living poet, until it has reached meridian, and
"the night covered with her foot Morocco." The hour of
twilight falls upon the poets, full of sweet desire in those who
sail the seas, their hearts melted by the thought of distant
friends, and when the pilgrim, hearing the far-off sounds of a
bell deploring the dying day, is moved to new love. The ten-
der humanness of this description seems to accord well with
the entrance into that great solemn world of Purgatory, the
mountain of sin destroyed by repentance.

The following brief quotations may serve to give an idea of
the use of natural scenery by the great Tuscan :

" The moon belated almost unto midnight]
Now made the stars appear to us more rare,
Formed like a bucket that is all ablaze :

" As when in night's serene of the full moon
Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal
Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs.

" And as the harbinger of early dawn
The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance,
Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers,

752 THE WORD-PAINTING OF DANTE. [Sept.,

" Ere in all its paths immeasurable
The horizons of one aspect had become
And night her boundless dispensation held."

The Terrestrial Paradise is aptly epitomized as a land " where
evermore was spring," and its stream, so clear that even the
most limpid of earth seem dull by comparison, moves on with
a brown, brown current under the shade perpetual that lets not
in rays of the sun or moon.

The use of streams by the poet would furnish food for a
separate and interesting study, as also his employments of
mountains, birds, or flowers.

In the Paradise light is that figure which the poet most
frequently employs. The highest Light, the Light Supreme,
the Light Eternal, express the Majesty of God. Light in
fashion of a river, pacific oriflammes, brightest in the centre,
flaming intensely in the guise of comets, myriad lamps and
torches, are some of the epithets applied to the redeemed
souls.

It is true that he describes them as roses, lilies, as lucu-
lent pearls, topazes, or rubies, more rarely as birds, or as form-
ing letters, sentences, and wheels. This latter illustration is
employed as an emblem of great torment in the Inferno. Once
there is the simile of a stairway, colored in gold, on which the
sunshine gleams.

In his frequent use of the stars to define his thought it is,
perhaps, a trivial coincidence, yet not unworthy of note, that
the Tuscan concludes each portion of the Comedy with a refer-
ence to those heavenly bodies. Flying from Beelzebub, prince
of devils, and from the shades of the infernal pit, he emphasizes
his escape in one terse sentence :

" Thence we came forth to re-behold the stars."

Having passed through the mountain of purification, and
bathed in the Lethean stream, the once troubled soul of the
Florentine is

" Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars."

In the closing scene of the Paradise Dante exhausts, as it
were, the splendor of his genius in striving to portray the Un-
created Glory —

"The Love which moves the sun and other stars."

1896.]

LONGFELLOW.

753

LONGFELLOW.

BY CHARLESON SHANE.
I.

HEN once, with brush that followed

where the feet
Of smiling Muses trod, thy skilful

hand
Traced all the beauties of a flow'ring

land,
And sketched the shaded grove where

songsters sweet
With full, melodious note, thy music

greet,
There Honor beckoned with her

magic wand :

And called to thee, from even for-
eign strand,
The grateful voice of Fame ; and laurels meet

Thy brow encircled. Now, alas ! for thee
Nor violets bloom, nor tunes the joyful note

Yon flitting robin sings, when sounds to me
The spring-tide song that fills his swelling throat.

Nor can we e'er the master-spirit see
Who breathed the melodies that round us float.

II.

Yet still thy verses guide and follow I

Through all the sunny vales of France and Spain,

Past hills forgotten warriors tread again,
To cities slumb'ring 'neath the gorgeous sky
In foreign indolence. There, passing by,

O'er dusty roads that, parching, weep for rain,

I see the slow mules lag in heavy train.
And northward, then, where short-lived summers die,
Scarce noted 'mid the reign of wintry snow,

The Viking sweeps the tempest-swelling sea,
And, 'neath his furious career bowing low,

Both Dane and Norseman bend submissive knee.
Ah, yes! these fast-revolving pictures show

The Muse's golden crown was given thee.

754 A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST: [Sept.,

A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST : VISCOUNT DE

MELUN.

BY REV. F. X. McGOWAN, O.S.A.

N December 17, 1893, the writer was present at
the Golden Jubilee of the Work of the Appren-
tices and Young Workmen, which was cele-
brated in the great basilica on Montmartre, Paris.
In that immense church, which embodies in stone
a national vow, thousands had gathered to rejoice over the
success of M. de Melun's efforts. In the hymn which was sung
by all, young and old, the cry to God was to save France —
Sauvez la France ! One could scarcely believe, as he looked at
that vast assemblage of young men, that Paris was an infidel
city, but he would be rather led to believe that a genuine,
healthy, Christian spirit was abroad in it. As we listened to
the eulogy of this heroic soul we found ourselves repeating :
" I heard a voice from heaven saying to me : Write : Blessed
are the dead who die in the Lord. From henceforth now,
. . . that they may rest from their labors, for their works
follow them"

Viscount Armand de Melun was born at Brumetz, in the
department of Aisne, September 24, 1807, of an ancient noble
French family. He was blessed with good Catholic parents,
who gave him an excellent Christian education. After having
made brilliant studies in Paris he betook himself to the study
of law, and was on the point of becoming a magistrate when
the Revolution of July, 1830, happily interfered with his design.
It was only by the desire of his parents that he prepared
to enter a public career, and when the circumstances of the
times prevented this, it caused him no heartache to give up
his project. Gifted with the talent of eloquent speech and a
forceful pen, he could have easily made a name for himself in
the political world or the world of letters. It was no love of
leisure, or any taste for frivolous or dangerous distractions, that
led him to eschew the activities of public life. His preference
was for a life of entire political independence. He loved work,
and "he left in the salons of Paris, and in many social circles,
the impress of his strong intellectual ability, and the charm of
his honest Christian character.

1896.] VISCOUNT DE MELUN.

NOBLE GUIDES TO A CHOICE OF LIFE.

755

M. de Melun was naturally active ; he acquired piety. As
in the case of most star-like characters whom God raises up for
the good of his people, he was given a special providence to
indicate to him his vocation in life and to strengthen him in
the pursuit of it. At the very outset of his career he came

THE VISCOUNT DE MELUN.

under the influence of two women who did much to mark out
his future paths : Madame Swetchine and Sister Rosalie. The
former — whose correspondence, published by M. de Falloux,
reveals to us a superior mind — transported M. de Melun into
those luminous regions to which truly Christian souls are lifted,
and she pointed out to him the special kingdom in which he
could do efficient work. The latter, the simple daughter of St.
Vincent de Paul, taught him the practical side of charity.

756 A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST : [Sept.

Madame Swetchine, who had conceived a strong affection
for this young nobleman, in whom she saw such earnest piety
and such consuming zeal and holy ambition to do good, wrote
to him as follows :

" Between religious faith and the charity of good works —
which, under the impulse of faith, reveals an entire goodness
of heart — between these two powers of a holy trinity also
there is an element to which we must give a place, an element
which is neither faith reasoned out nor exterior charity, but
the fireside of two others, their source, their motive, and their
reward : this is piety, which makes God sensible to the heart
and which concentrates in itself his immense love. Read, then,
my dear friend, read St. Vincent de Paul — read him so that
you may appropriate his action and conform yourself in every-
thing to his example. But read also some other works of the
great masters of spiritual life, which will lead you to penetrate
into the adorable mysteries of God's conduct towards souls.
Living with the poor, the sick, you will find this practical in-
struction very beneficial."

Sustained by the spirit of piety, the Viscount de Melun ap-
plied his natural activity to good works, and it was Sister Ro-
salie who directed and guided him from the start in the practice
of charity.

Sister Rosalie Rendu was the superior of the House of
Charity in the Rue de TEpee-de-Bois in Paris, and was famous
for her charity towards the poor. She was a veritable provi-
dence to them in the Faubourg St. Marceau, where the num-
ber of the poor was simply incalculable. In her Mcmoires,
published by Count Le Camas, M. de Melun has left us these
charming remembrances of the charitable apprenticeship he
served under her: "At each one of my new incursions into
the Faubourg St. Marceau, Sister Rosalie took care to choose
for me, with her ordinary tact, the poor whom she confided to
me. They all had particular claims on my solicitude, and some-
thing interesting to relate to me. I never left the Rue de
l'Epee-de-Bois without a greater affection for the sister-superior
and her protdgts. I soon became accustomed to these excur-
sions, and the conversations which preceded and followed them,
in which I learned so well to discern true misery with its dis-
guise, to take part in the exaggerations of some and in the re-
serve of others, and to distribute to each whatever was the
best as help, as advice, or even as talk. I have nothing to
add concerning this admirable woman, since I have said all

1896.] VISCOUNT DE MEL UN. 757

that I know how to say of her in the history of her life. To
date from that moment to her death, a week never passed in
which I did not come often, not only to visit her poor and to
go, under her direction, through all the narrow winding streets
of her kingdom, but also to take counsel with her in all the
works which I was about to undertake, in all the difficult situ-
ations the solution of which, through her, I knew how to find."
In studying, also, in the Quarter St. Medard, under the di-
rection of this humble sister, the sufferings and the wants of
the poor, M. de Melun began to understand the extent of
misery which befalls so large a portion of the population, es-
pecially in large cities, and particularly so in Paris. But the
immensity of evil, instead of discouraging him, served only to
inflame his holy ardor, and he devoted his life to relieving his
brethren in Jesus Christ.

II.

There is much religion, and therefore much charity, which
is lost sight of in the general view that people take of irreligious
France. If there is an impious Paris we should not forget
that there is also a religious Paris. Paris is world-renowned
for the number and the excellence of its charitable institutions.
People who are all the time wondering if the Parisians will
ever get to heaven ought to take a few salutary lessons from
them in meritorious charitable work. Beneath the gayety of
the Parisians, which is too often and too wrongly considered by
sedate English and American travellers as utter levity and
frivolity, there beats a refined and benevolent heart. There
is a natural basis for charity in the Parisian character. It
represents the highest, the most complete, and the most civ-
ilized people of the world. While irreligion may prevail,
even to an alarming extent, yet Christianity has brought to
perfection an uncommonly plastic and ductile benevolence,
the like of which can be found nowhere else in Christendom.
Even men and women who have lost the faith are motived
for temporal reasons by the charity which was long ago
supernaturalized by the action and the influence of the Cath-
olic Church.

BANEFUL FRUITS OF THE REVOLUTION.

All of the specific charities of Paris are in close touch with
the church, and are sustained mainly by her faithful children.
The Work of the Faubourgs, the Maternal Society, the Cribs,

758

A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST:

[Sept.,

the Halls of Asylum, the Common Schools, the Patronages,
the Friends of Childhood, the Work of the Prisons, the Society
of St. Francis Regis, the Work of the Sick Poor, the Work of
the Soldiers, and the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, which
embrace the social and charitable labor of Catholic Paris, have

SISTER ROSALIE TAUGHT HIM THE PRACTICAL SIDE OF CHARITY.

had their origin from purely religious motives and perform their
duties under clerical and religious supervision. The amount of
real, genuine happiness which is conferred through the agency
of these different works is so enormous that we are tempted to
believe if the Catholic religion had full sway over the French

1896.] VISCOUNT DE MELUN. 759

mind and heart the civilization of Christianity would reach its
ultimatum. At present, however, difficulties and opposition
which are formidable prevent its attaining to that desirable
height. That unfortunate French Revolution, which was national
delirium, has borne wicked fruits that have lasted even to our
times, a hundred years and more since it spilled innocent blood
on the pavements of Paris and vitiated the souls of thousands.
The first field of labor into which M. de Melun entered
was the work of the Friends of Childhood — a society founded
in 1827 by a number of young gentlemen of fortune. He took
a lively interest in succoring and caring for poor children who
were without parents, or who, having parents, were neglected
by them. These unfortunates were placed under proper care
and guarded from evil influences, which might otherwise sur-
round them.

THE CRUCIAL PERIOD OF LIFE.

While engaged in this work the young viscount perceived
the futility of his labor if it were not extended further to that
period when the child departs from the class-room to enter the
life of apprenticeship, a period fraught with danger, in which
all that the child had been hitherto taught might be reduced
to nothing by the influences of bad example, bad reading, and
neglect of religious duties.

Pondering this thought, M. de Melun had recourse again to
Sister Rosalie, and they formulated a scheme which, under
God's blessing, not only satisfied the exigency which existed,
but far surpassed their most sanguine hopes. M. de Melun gave
a short sketch of his labors and the labors of his colleagues,
in 1875, at a general assembly of the Work of Apprentices
and Young Workmen, of which he was the founder.

In 1845, at tne request of some well-intentioned men, Brother
Philip, the superior-general of the Christian Brothers, sum-
moned to the mother-house all the directors of the Christian
Schools in Paris. At this meeting the matter of doing some-
thing for the benefit of children who, after leaving school, en-
ter into the life of apprentices, and who, surrounded by inevit-
able temptations, are often placed in the danger of losing their
faith, was discussed. The religious atmosphere of the school-
room is noticeably absent in the workshop, and in a short while
the boy is likely to lose all religious tradition, religious habits,
all trace of the education which he received in the school and
in the church. It was proposed to the Christian Brothers to

760 A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST: [Sept.,

undertake a work which would reach these young apprentices,
and to inaugurate Sunday reunions in which some of the good
influences that had been exercised over their early years might
be continued and perpetuated.

The proposition was received favorably, and while all ap-
proved of the idea, not a few were dismayed at the difficulty
of attracting and holding these young people at an age when
they were so desirous of pleasure and so charmed with their
own freedom. Again, some of the brothers were at a loss to
supply for the distractions, more or less licit, which were offered
to these young souls in the outside world.

"The work is an excellent one," said Brother Philip; "it is
necessary and ought to be done." He counselled them to go
to work and lay the foundation of it, and to return in three
months and report the results of their labors.

At the appointed time the brothers convened at the mother-
house and presented their reports to the superior-general.
They had appealed to their former pupils, and the appeal had
been listened to. The work had been established in three
arrondissements and was about to be founded in several others.
Father de Ravignan had preached a charity sermon in behalf
of it at Notre Dame ; Father Petelot, at that time cure of St.
Roch, had taken up subscriptions for it ; the Archbishop of
Paris had accepted the honorary presidency of it, and every-
thing augured its complete success. Soon the work extended to
every quarter of Paris, and having been organized on a sure
basis, its development was nigh stupendous. When M. de
Melun spoke in 1875, with a heart grateful to God and to the
Christian Brothers, of the success of this work, which was so
near and so dear to him, he had the pleasure of reporting the
establishment of 20 societies, numbering 2,527 young members.
In December, 1893, the work counted 53 societies, numbering
5,559 members. This rich fruitage of his labors and his prayers
evidently showed that the finger of the Lord had touched his
work.

AID FOR YOUNG WORKING-GIRLS.

M. de Melun felt that the Work of the Apprentices would
be incomplete if he did not take into consideration the de-
plorable condition of young girls, who, after leaving school,
were thrown into as trying, and even worse, temptations than
those which surrounded boys. The amelioration of public man-
ners and the salvation of society had an equal claim on his
zeal in this respect. Therefore, February 3, 1851, a work, anal-

1896.] VISCOUNT DE MELUN. 761

ogous to the Work of the Apprentices, was organized under the
care of the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, and in his last days
the Viscount de Melun stated with much consolation the happy
results of this excellent institution :

" The moral grandeur, unperceived, this heroism of every
day — more meritorious than the exceptional acts on which hu-
manity wastes its encomiums — you will find in these young
working-girls, whom you, sisters, have taken under your pro-
tection, and if you ask whence have they acquired that strength
of resistance and that superiority of soul, there is but one voice
that will answer : in the Sunday reunions, in the instructions
and the advice which they received in them ; in the help and
the relief* which the Patronage gave them." We cannot for-
get that the Baroness of Ladoucette, as the general presi-
dent of this work, assisted both M. de Melun and the worthy
sisters in its marvellous development. It has been established
in almost every parish of Paris and the suburbs, and at the
close of 1893 numbered more than 20,000 associates.

One might think that the organization and the successful
development of these two great works- for the betterment and
the salvation of the two most important divisions of society
were labor enough for the life-time of a single individual. But
no, the charity of M. de Melun was ceaseless. In the practical
unfolding of his charities he met with a class of men and women
who were once in good circumstances, but who had undeservedly
fallen into poverty or low condition of life. There was an ex-
quisite delicacy needed in dealing with this work, and the benevo-
lent viscount had a heart tender enough for it. He established
the Work of Mercy. It was a timely work, for it came into
existence just at that epoch when great social errors had arisen
and had been the cause of terrible catastrophes both to society
and to families. Much of the communism that had a faint echo
even here in America began about this time, and to stem the
tide of misery which it was producing M. de Melun organized the
Society of Charitable Economy and began the Annals of Charity.

While the viscount preserved a complete political indepen-
dence, attaching himself to no party, he did not hesitate to
utilize the resources which the government offered him in
carrying out the work of his patronages.

SYMPATHY OF M. DE LAMARTINE.

When the Revolution of February 24, 1848, came before
France, with appearances favorable to popular interests, there was

762

A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST :

[Sept.,

no one who welcomed it more warmly than Viscount de Melun.
Because it seemed in touch with the good of the people, it
awakened in his heart the most stirring hopes, and, it must be
confessed, generous illusions. He did not fear to invite the
good will of certain members of the Provisional government

HE WAS THE FOUNDER OF THE WORK OF APPRENTICES AND YOUNG WORKMEN.

to his works, and he especially sought the beneficial services
of M. de Lamartine, who had often testified a warm sympathy
for his undertakings. March 31, 1848, in union with Mme. de
Lamartine, he founded the Fraternal Association. This work
of social charity, ingeniously adapted to the wants and the

iSc)6. VISCOUNT DE MEL UN. 763

ideas of the moment, had at first great success, but the Revo-
lution of May 15 crippled its operations. M. de Melun was
not cast in the mould of men whom difficulties discourage ; he
pursued his work faithfully, and after the revolutionary days of
June had scattered everywhere despair and misery in the popu-
lous quarters of Paris, the brave viscount, assisted by his con-
frtres of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul and by members
of his own works, went about doling out to poor families, the
victims of the civil war, the relief of municipal generosity and
the pacifying comforts of Catholic charity. Again we find him,
as of old, the messenger of Providence, in the Faubourg St.
Marceau, where in former years he had buckled on his first
arms as a simple soldier of charity under the orders of Sister
Rosalie.

Thus did this good, holy man live, not for himself but for
his fellow-men, scattering everywhere the gifts of God, and
bringing the peace of Jesus Christ into the by-ways and
the alley-ways of life, into quarters where the love of the Sav-
iour was sorely needed. His whole career might be said to
have been the embodiment of the words of Horace Mann :
" The soul of the truly benevolent man does not seem to reside
much in its own body. Its life, to a great extent, is a mere
reflex of the lives of others. It migrates into their bodies, and,
identifying its existence with their existence, finds its own
happiness in increasing and prolonging their pleasures, in ex-
tinguishing or solacing their pains " (Lects. on Education, Lect.
IV.}

III. f

We would hardly believe our sketch of the life of Armand
de Melun in any degree satisfactory if we did not refer to the
important services which he rendered to religion in his brief
career as a legislator, and in his long life as a counsellor in
public affairs relative to charity and public assistance.

Before presenting himself to the universal suffrage of France
Louis Napoleon wished to have an interview with De Melun,
whom he rightly deemed the principal representative of chari-
table works in Paris. Had the viscount been accessible to
ambition, he might have held the highest positions in the state ;
but he preferred to retain his political independence. He
entered the Legislative Assembly in 1849, anc^ contributed power-
fully to the passage of bills affecting the freedom of education
and public charities. With the aid of his brother, who repre-
sented the department of the North, he succeeded in drafting

764 A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST : [Sept.,

and passing laws concerning the hospitals and the hospices,
marriages of the indigent, judiciary assistance, public baths and
lavatories, unhealthy dwellings, apprenticeships, and the monts-
de-piet£. It took some strong contention to pass these bills,
but constant work and eloquent advocacy of them prevailed.
M. de Melun never assumed the air of a partisan in his
parliamentary work; he was first and always the Christian who
had recourse to pacific measures, rather than to noisy agitation,
for the success of what he had at heart. So preoccupied was
he with all social questions that came before the Assembly
that the members were quite assured he studied every project
in advance. When asked to give his views on public measures
he stated them with simplicity and clearness, and was listened
to with respectful attention.

This modest man, who feared nothing so much as parade
and held in horror even the least appearance of charlatanism,
was one of the best servants of popular interests that ever
sat in the hall of the Legislative Assembly.

The coup-cCetat of December 2, 1854, put an end to the
parliamentary career of Viscount de Melun, but he was called
upon later to give the weight of his learning and counsel in
the organization of the Societies of Mutual Help. Monseigneur
Sibour, Archbishop of Paris, urged him to co-operate in this
good work, and in obedience to the wish of that prelate he
took a deep interest in it, being the soul and the agent of the
committee to whose charge it was entrusted. After the Patron-
age of the Apprentices and the Young Workmen, this Work of
Mutual Help gave him the greatest honor ; for through it he
rendered lasting and useful services to the laboring classes.

SINISTER DESIGN OF THE EMPIRE.

Again was his deep faith and tender charity called into
requisition. The imperial government, like a huge octopus,
was drawing in everything that could bring it profit or emolu-
ment. In 1858 the Moniteur announced the government's
intention of alienating the immovable patrimonies of the hospi-
tals and the hospices ; in plain terms, stealing the landed
property whereby these excellent institutions were supported
and converting its value into rentes, all to be at the disposal of
the state. The benevolent soul of the viscount was alarmed ;
he saw in this financial speculation a death-blow given to the
interests of the poor. He succeeded in obtaining an audience
with the emperor, and pleaded so frankly, and, as he said

1896.] VISCOUNT DE MELUN. 76$

himself, " with such vivacity of language " that the matter was
dropped. He argued that what the government would take
away was immovable and valuable by the permanency of ages,
and what it would give in return would be movable and un-
certain, variable and perishable with time. He showed how
the country would look on the whole affair as a disreputable
piece of speculation which would throw discredit on the govern-
ment— robbing the poor to enrich the state — and it would effec-
tually hinder any future bequests to public charities, since people
would see in the proposed decree an inclination on the part of
the government to prevent the execution of their legacies.

A PROPHETIC VIEW OF THE PAPACY.

A congress was about to meet in 1859, m which the Roman
Question would be discussed. The fallacious pretext for sum-
moning this congress was the pacification of Italy. M. de
Melun was one of the first to utter the cry of alarm, which he
did in a remarkable brochure, entitled " The Roman Question
before the Congress." He pointed out how the Catholic
Church would be arraigned before this gathering, in the person
of her Head, as not being fit to govern men, as having abused
her authority, and as having squandered the Peter's pence.
The Revolution would demand the spoils of the Holy See as
the reward of its denunciation and assault. The flimsiest
reasons would be advanced to give authority to an attack on
the Papal dominions ; city after city would be taken, and,
finally, the Papacy would be imprisoned in its own City of Rome.

M. de Melun wrote these words, truly prophetic, one year
before Castelfidardo and ten years before the Piedmontese
irruption into the Eternal City !

From 1860 till his death, June 24, 1877, M. de Melun
confined his work principally to his charitable societies. He
was, besides, one of the most devoted and most intelligent
counsellors of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul ; a member
of the Association of St. Francis de Sales, a society organized
for the defence of the faith, and an associate of the Work of
the Country-places, which he helped to found with his friend,
M. de Lambel, and whose objects were to furnish poor parishes
with the necessary resources of worship, the induction of teach-
ing and nursing sisters into rural districts, the establishment
of small pharmacies for the poor, and, in fact, all the works
of piety and charity of which country-places stood in need.
He also assisted Baron Cauchy in the Work of the Schools of
VOL. LXIII. — 49

;66

A GREAT CHRISTIAN SOCIALIST :

[Sept.,

the Orient, and he may be said to have closed his life caring
for the orphans of the Commune. A year after his death the
Archbishop of Paris, in a pastoral letter addressed to his clergy

in behalf of these orphans, paid a magnificent tribute to the
memory of Viscount de Melun. " He was the man of all works
of beneficence. None better than he possessed the intelligence
of Christian charity."

1896.] VISCOUNT DE MELUN. 767

Never a robust man, the charitable viscount began to find
disease making sad ravages on his constitution ; but he had
little fear to meet God after so many golden years spent in his
service. His death was as blessed as was his life, full of tender-
ness towards his own and the objects of his labors, full of con-
fidence in the mercy of God. .

A SPLENDID EXAMPLE FOR OUR GOLDEN YOUTH.

It is given to few countries to raise up such lovely, whole-
souled, faithful characters as was M. de Melun. They are always
the solitary lights which gleam out of the darkness, but they
are also beacon-lights which direct and straighten the steps of
men. This hero of charity might have passed, like hundreds of
his contemporaries, a life of ease and luxury ; might have spent
his fortune in travel or in collecting about himself the valuable
aids and resources of a cultured mind. He preferred, however,
to be directed by the Spirit of God who dwelt within him and
who informed his own soul. Sentire cum Ecclesia was his
maxim, not only in the dogma, traditions, and opinions, but
also in the sympathies, the devotedness, and the charities of the
church. The Holy Ghost dwelt in him not with barren result,
and from his personal sanctification came immense activities
that helped to civilize and refine his fellow-men, and to make
apparent that the God of all consolation was working in the
heart of Paris.

In the onward tendencies of our times, when wealth is sure-
ly and manifestly increasing, we find every day men who lead
lives of leisure ; who have nothing, it would seem, to live for but
pleasure and delight. The number of our gentlemen of fortune
is increasing. What if some of them would take up the work
of safeguarding the lives and the religion of our young work-
men in our large cities ? There is no more neglected class than
the young who are thrown into workshops and factories with-
out the guiding hand of religion. Our parochial societies, our
literary societies, do not reach a tithe of them. The vast
majority grow up catching religious impressions as they may,
while there are inducements enough in the saloon, in the dance-
halls, and in wicked localities to veer them away from all
practice of faith.

Here is a veritable apostolate for our young men of fortune,
one that will earn for them the gratitude of the church and
humanity, as well as the blessing of Almighty God.

THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. [Sept.,

THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE.

BY ALICE WORTHINGTON WINTHROP.

iN the science of social life the modern student
learns, as in St. Paul's vision, that "nothing is
common or unclean." It is his privilege to dis-
cover this for himself as he penetrates the mys-
teries which underlie all the facts of life ; and
this sense of the relation between the simplest and the most
complex truths of existence is building up the new study of so-
ciology— a science which has the universe for its province, and
which deigns to take into consideration those feelings and
principles which political economy formerly ignored. We do
not wish to underrate the work which political economy has
accomplished, but we believe that it has suffered from its own
self-limitations. In ignoring the higher motives of mankind it
has narrowed its own range of vision.

Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations was published in 1776;
Professor Marshall's Principles of Economics, in 1890. It may
be said, therefore, that a little over a hundred years has seen
the rise and fall of the school of political economy which re-
garded enlightened self-interest as a sufficient reason to account
for all the actions of man in his relation to society. We take
Professor Marshall's work as indicating the close of this period
(though the new impulse came somewhat earlier) ; not, of course,
that it is, as was Adam Smith's, an epoch-making book, but
because it embodies, to a certain extent, the ideas of the pres-
ent generation. As Mr. Kidd says in his Social Evolution, Pro-
fessor Marshall's work is " an attempt to place the science of
economics on a firmer foundation by bringing it into more
vitalizing contact with history, politics, ethics, and even reli-
gion."

CHRISTIAN ALTRUISM.

It is this consciousness of the dependence of science on
ethics and religion — of the existence of the spiritual element
in humanity — which inspires the new school, and which is mak-
ing non-Catholics realize that man cannot be regarded, in the
words of Mr. Ruskin, as a " mere covetous machine." The
church, of course, has never accepted this theory. She has al-
ways recognized the altruistic principle in human nature, though
she calls it the spirit of Christian charity. As regards its ap-

1896.] THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. 769

plication to society, she has gone on her way " unhasting, unrest-
ing," serenely .striving to calm the troubled spirit of Individual-
ism, on the one hand, and of Socialism on the other.

Our Holy Father Pope Leo XIII., in his Encyclical on
Labor, says : " At this moment the condition of the working
population is the question of the hour; and nothing can be of
higher interest to all classes of the state than that it should
be rightly and reasonably decided." It is, no doubt, an evi-
dence of this truth that the thoughts of .both Catholics and
non-Catholics are eagerly turned to the solution of the practi-
cal problems which confront the working-man in his home, as
to his hours of labor, his recreations, and, above all, as to how
he shall be fed.

This last is a question which has been more carefully consid-
ered in other countries than in our own. In Germany the first
systematic investigations into the chemistry and physiology of
food were begun by Baron Liebig about 1840. He endeavored
to analyze and define its different elements of nutrition, and
though he attributed greater importance to the nitrogenous in-
gredients than would be accepted by the scientific men of to-
day, his system has stood the test in other respects of more
than fifty years. In 1864 Professor Henneberg introduced the
so-called Weende method and definitions, and they have gradu-
ally been adopted by chemists everywhere. In France re-
searches into the quality of. milk were begun about 1830, and
in 1836 Boussingault reported analyses of various kinds of
food, with especial reference to the quantities of nitrogen con-
tained in them. For many years the chief stress was laid on
the elements of carbon and nitrogen. In the valuable works of
Payen, published as recently as in 1864, little else than water,
nitrogen, and carbon are taken into account.

THE RELATION OF PURE FOOD TO TEMPERANCE.

In England interest in the subject developed late, but it has
been pursued with characteristic thoroughness by Professor
Richardson and others. The prevention of drunkenness, the
national vice, by means of proper nutrition has been particu-
larly studied in England. Mr. Lecky says, in his work on
Democracy and Liberty : " Miserable homes, and perhaps to an
equal extent wretched cooking, are responsible for very much
drunkenness ; and the great improvement in working-men's
dwellings which has taken place in the present generation is
one of the best forces on the side of temperance. Much may
also be done to diffuse through the British working classes

770 THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. [Sept.,

something of that skill and economy in cooking, and especially
in the use of vegetables, in which they are generally so lament-
ably deficient. If the wives of the poor in Great Britain and
Ireland could cook as they can cook in France and Holland, a
much smaller proportion of the husbands would seek a refuge
in the public house. Of all the forces of popular education
this very homely one is perhaps that which is most needed in
England, though of late years considerable efforts have been
made to promote it. A large amount of drunkenness in the
community is due to the want of a sufficient amount of nourish-
ing and well-cooked food."

In the United States researches into the character of our
food-supply naturally came late. The first analyses made by
modern methods were undertaken at the Sheffield Scientific
School of Yale College, in 1869; but comparatively little was
done until the establishment of experiment stations several
years afterwards. The first extended investigations into the
nutritive value of food for man in this country were begun in
1878, at the instance and partly at the expense of the Smith-
sonian Institute, through the influence of the late Professor
Spencer F. Baird. These analyses included fish, shell-fish,
meats, milk, butter, cheese, flour, bread, etc., and were con-
tinued until 1891. Meanwhile, Honorable Carroll D. Wright,
then chief of the Massachusetts Bureau of Labor and Statistics,
had undertaken investigations in which Professor Atwater col-
laborated, and on which the present work of the latter is
founded. A number of analyses of canned foods have been
made within the past few years by the United States Depart-
ment of Agriculture with reference to adulteration. In 1893
the collection of food material at the World's Fair at Chicago
offered remarkable opportunities for experiment and research ;
and this fact was appreciated by the Agricultural Department,
which undertook investigations which are not yet completed.
The department has also instituted certain experiment stations,
and it is with the work accomplished by these that we propose
especially to deal.

They are conducted under Dr. Atwater, professor of
chemistry in Wesleyan University and director of the Storrs
Agricultural Experiment Station, who is the special agent of
the Agricultural Department. He has been actively engaged in
food investigations since those first undertaken, as already
stated, at Yale College in 1869, and it is largely owing to him that
nearly twenty-six hundred analyses of American food products,
exclusive of milk and butter, are now available to the public.

1896.] THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE.

771

SCIENTIFIC HANDLING OF THE SUBJECT.

The charts, four in number, used to illustrate the results of

his experiments have been compiled under Professor Atwater's

directions and require slight explanation. The food values in

them are expressed, according to the Weende method, in heat

units or calories ; i. e., in that " amount of heat which is required

CHART i.— COMPOSITION OF FOOD MATERIALS.

Nutritive ingredients, refuse, and fuel -value.

Nutrients.

Protein.

Fata.

Carbo- Mineral
hydrates. matters.

Non-nutrients.

Water. Refuse.

Fuel value.

Calories.

Nutrients, etc.. per ct.

Fuel value, calories" I 400 800 1200 1600 2000 2400 2600 3200 3600

"'""' ""..'

772

THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. [Sept.,

to raise one pound of water 4° Fahrenheit " ; and these calories
represent the actual amount of nourishment contained in dif-
ferent articles of food. The first chart, entitled the " Composi-
tion of Food Materials," indicates the nutritive ingredients,
refuse, and food value of the most popular articles of diet.
The second, entitled the " Pecuniary Economy of Food," gives
the amount of actual nutriment which can be obtained for
twenty-five cents. The third, called " Dietaries and Dietary
Standards," gives the nutrients and food energy in diet in dif-
ferent countries and occupations ; and the fourth, under the
title of the " Nutritive Ingredients of Food and their Uses in
the Body," contains familiar examples of compounds commonly
grouped with each of the four principal classes of nutrients.

Like Moliere's M. Jourdain, who talked prose without know-
ing it, all expert caterers and prudent housewives unconsciously
approximate their purchases to the ideal proportion of proteins,
fats, and carbohydrates in the food which they buy. But there
are many, in every class of the community, who would be
benefited by training in these particulars, and only a small
number, even among experts in the selection of food, have
learned to combine the maximum of nourishment with the
minimum of expense ; and this is a matter of vital importance
to the working-man. Honorable Carroll D. Wright, Commis-
sioner of Labor, says in his report of the Massachusetts
Bureau of Statistics of 1884, "the labor question, concretely
stated, means the struggle for a higher standard of living " '»
and he gives the following table :

PERCENTAGE OF FAMILY INCOME EXPENDED FOR SUBSISTENCE.

Annual income.

Expended
for food.

GERMANY.

Per cent.

Working-men, .......

$225 to $300

Intermediate class, - .-

450 to 600

In easy circumstances, .' , .

750 to 1,100

GREAT BRITAIN.

Working-men, ...

500

MASSACHUSETTS.

Working-men, „.. .

350 to 400

" '."-.

450 to 600

" . . .

600 to 750

" . • • •

750 to 1,200

Above 1,200

The large majority of families in this country are said to have not over $500 a
year to live upon. More than half of this goes, and must go, for food. The cost
of preparing food for the table, rent, clothing, and all other expenses must be
provided from the remainder.

1896.] THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE.

773

Professor Atwater's investigations are valuable because of
their practical character as well as on account of their scienti-
fic interest. He follows the wife of the working-man (with an

CHART 2.— PECUNIARY ECONOMY OF FOOD.

Amounts of actually nutritive ingredients obtained in different food materials

for 23 cents.

[Amounts of nutrients in pounds. Fuel value in calories.]
Protein. Fats. Carbohydrates. Fuel value.

Weights of nutrients and calorics of energy iu 2!i cents' \yortb

Standard for daily diet for)
man at moderate work. . .}

Volt.

tAtwater.

774 THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. [Sept.r

income of $500 per annum) to market, watches her spend the
amount which she can afford for the food of her husband, her
children, and herself — even peeps into the basket to see the
result. "The members of the family need," he says, "as
essential for the day's diet, certain amounts of protein to make
blood and muscle, bone and brain, and corresponding quanti-
ties of fat, starch, sugar, and the like to be consumed in their
bodies, and thus to serve as fuel to keep them warm and to
give them strength for work. . . . Due regard for health,
strength, and purse requires that food shall contain enough
protein to build tissue, and enough fat and carbohydrates for
fuel, and that it shall not be needlessly expensive. The pro-
tein can be had in the lean of meat and fish, in eggs, in the
casein (curd) of milk, in the gluten of flour, and in substances
more or less like gluten in various forms of meat, potatoes,,
beans, peas, and the like. Fats are supplied in the fat of
meat and fish, in lard, in the fat of milk, or in butter made
from it ; it is also furnished, though in small amounts, in the
oil of wheat, corn, potatoes, and other vegetable foods.
Carbohydrates occur in great abundance in vegetable materials,
as in the starch of grains and potatoes, and in sugar."

IMPORTANCE OF SOUND COOKERY.

Professor At water asserts that the most wasteful people in
their food-economy are the poor. He thinks, contrary to the
judgment of most housekeepers, that it is often the worst
economy to buy high-priced food. " For this error," he says,
" prejudice, the palate, and poor cooking are mainly responsi-
ble. !.. . . There is a prevalent but unfounded idea that
costly foods, such as the tenderest meats, the finest fish, the
highest-priced butter, the choicest flour, and the most delicate
vegetables possess some peculiar virtue which is lacking in the
less expensive materials. The maxim that ' the best is the
cheapest ' does not apply to food." We are not sure that he
proves his case, though he strengthens it by dwelling on the
importance of good cooking. (We propose to refer to the
effect of cooking, and its influence on food values, later on in
another article.) " The plain, substantial standard food mate-
rials," continues Professor Atwater, " like the cheaper meats and
fish, milk, flour, corn-meal, oat-meal, beans, and potatoes, are
as digestible and nutritious, and as well fitted for the nourish-
ment of people in good health, as any of the costliest materials
the market affords." He cites the traditional diet of the
Scotchman, oat-meal and red herring. Both of these contain

1896.] THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE.

775

large quantities of protein, and when supplemented with bread
and potatoes furnish a well-balanced diet. In the same way
the New England dishes of codfish and potatoes, pork and
beans, and bread and butter and milk, contribute all that is
needed to make a race vigorous and sturdy in mind and
body. Potatoes contain a large amount of hydrocarbonate in
their starch, but lack protein, which codfish supplies. Beans

CHART 3.— DIETARIES AND DIETARY STANDARDS.

Quantities of nutrients and energy in food for man per day,

[Amounts of nutrients in pounds. Fuel value in calories.]

Protein. Fats. Carbohydrates. Fuel valtre.

80(00

German soldier, peace footing

German soldier, war footing .

French-Canadian families.

Glass blower, Cambridge, Mass .

College students, X. and E. States.

Well-to-do families, Connecticut.

Mechanics and factory hands, Massachusetts.
Machinist, Boston, Mass

Hard-worked teamster, Boston, Mass

U. S. Army ration .

DIKTARY STANDARDS:

Han at moderate work ( Voit) .

Man at hard work (Voit) .

Man at light work (Atwater) .

Man «t moderate work (Atwater).

Man at hard work (Atwater)

776 THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. [Sept.,

also fill this want and are rich in hydrocarbonates as well ;
but all these articles of food are deficient in fat, which is fur-
nished by the pork, butter, and milk.

Neutral salts and mineral compounds form a small percen-
tage in every analysis. Their importance is not yet determined,
as they may be an important factor in the still obscure pro-
cesses of digestion.

The question of the amount of food required is differently
estimated by different authorities. It will be seen from Chart
3 that the quantity consumed by American working-men is large-
ly in excess of that used by those of any other occupation or
nationality ; and that the English working-man comes next in
the scale, and still in excess of the standard established by
Voit — i. e., 3,050 calories per day. As to the amount of food
required for health and efficiency, we give the opinion, first, of
Sir Henry Thompson, the noted English physician and authori-
ty on this subject.

" I have come to the conclusion," he says, " that more than
half the disease which embitters the middle and latter part of
life is due to avoidable errors in diet, . . . and that more
mischief, in the form of actual disease, of impaired vigor, and
of shortened life, accrues to civilized man ... in England
and throughout central Europe from erroneous habits of eating
than from the habitual use of alcoholic drink, considerable as
I know that evil to be."

Honorable Carroll D. Wright gives a series of American
dietaries, and comments especially on the excess of animal food,
fat, and sweetmeats contained therein. " If the further study
of this matter shall confirm these results," he writes, "it would
become a serious question whether a reform in the dietary
habits of a large portion of our people, including the classes
who work for small wages, is not greatly needed, and whether
this reform would not consist, in many instances, in the use
of less food as a whole, and in many more cases in the use of
relatively less meat and larger proportions of vegetable foods."

CHART 4.— NUTRITIVE INGREDIENTS OF FOOD AND THEIR USES

IN THE BODY.

f Water,
f Edible portion :

Flesh of meat, yolk and white \ f Protein.

of eggs, wheat, flour, etc.

Food as purchased I ... . . Fats.

i I Nutrients. <

I Carbohydrates.

Refuse : ^ Mineral matters.

Bones, entrails, shells, bran, etc.

1896.] THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. 777

USES OF NUTRIENTS.

Protein, .... Forms tissue (muscle,

White (albumen) of eggs, curd tendon, fat),

(casein) of milk, lean meat,

All serve as fuel and yield
energy in form of heat and
muscular strength.

gluten of wheat, etc.

Fats, ..... Form fatty tissue.
Fat of meat, butter, olive oil,

oils of corn and wheat, etc.
Carbohydrates, . . . Transformed into fat.

Sugar, starch, etc. j

Mineral matters (ash), . . Aid in forming bone,

Phosphates of lime, potash, assist in digestion,

soda, etc. etc.

The fuel value of food. — Heat and muscular power are forms of force or
energy. The energy is developed as the food is eonsumed in the body. The
unit commonly used in this measurement is the calorie, the amount of heat which
would raise the temperature of a pound of water 4° F.

The following general estimate has been made for the average amount of po-
tential energy in i pound of each of the classes of nutrients :

Calories.

In i pound of protein, 1,860

In i pound of fats, . . . . . . . . 4,220

In i pound of carbohydrates, 1,860

In other words, when we compare the nutrients in respect to their fuel values,
their capacities for yielding heat and mechanical power, a pound of protein of lean
meat or albumen of egg is just about equivalent to a pound of sugar or starch, and
a little over 2 pounds of either would be required to equal a pound of the fat of
meat or butter or the body fat.

Professor Atwater arrives at a different conclusion. He
compares the American dietary with the European, and gives
the result as follows : " The scale of living, or ' standard of life,'
is much higher here in the United States than it is in Europe.
People in Massachusetts and Connecticut are better housed,
better clothed, and better fed than those in Bavaria or Prus-
sia. They do more work and they get better wages."

These conclusions are based on data to which we can only
briefly refer. Professor Atwater has collated the foreign dieta-
ries of Voit, Playfair, and others with a large number made
with great care and ingenuity under his own direction, and ar-
rives at the result as given in Chart 3. It is almost impossible
for the reader who is not an expert to appreciate the amount
of work which this has involved. The professor is now en-
gaged in experiments on the metabolism (chemical and physi-
cal changes) of matter and energy, which are most interesting,
but which it seems undesirable to describe until he has arrived
at definite results.

Cooking as a science, and in its relation to chemistry and
physiology, cannot be treated according to Professor Atwater's

778 THE QUESTION OF FOOD FOR THE PEOPLE. [Sept.,

method in this article, as the subject is too important to be
considered without ample space. We conclude, therefore, by
referring briefly to the work of Dr. Edward Atkinson in this
branch of dietetics and economics.

IMPORTANCE OF SCIENTIFIC COOKING APPARATUS.

The efforts of Dr. Atkinson to influence the public in favor
of food experiment stations, and his application of scientific
principles to the construction and use of cooking apparatus,
should be noted, and their value explained. It is beyond the
province of this article to dwell at length on the theories which
he advocates with regard to cooking ; but he has constructed
and patented — and gives to the public without royalty — an in-
genious contrivance whereby, he says, " the essential processes
of baking, roasting, simmering, stewing, boiling, and sautting
can be reduced to rules. Nothing need be burned, dried up,
or wasted. All natural flavors can be developed and retained.
All offensive odors can be prevented. Finally, by taking more
time in the process, almost the whole time of the cook can be
saved." Dr. Atkinson's claims have been still more fully pre-
sented in his essay on the Science of Nutrition, published by
Damrell & Upham, Boston.

Dr. Atkinson's system is a combination of the Norwegian
cooking-box and the New England clam-bake, with the oven
designed by Count Rumford more than a hundred years ago.
Dr. Atkinson himself mentions these as the origin of his in-
vention, but he does not do justice to the ingenuity with which
he has combined their advantages. Unfortunately, his " Alad-
din Oven " has not yet been sufficiently simplified to come with-
in the means of the average working-man.

With a certain pathos, Dr. Atkinson admits that there are
" two great obstructions to be overcome before the revolution
in the domestic kitchen will be accomplished — to wit, the in-
ertia of woman and the incredulity of mankind "; but he con-
cludes, hopefully, that " in a few years the door of the domes-
tic kitchen may be opened to science through the work of the
food laboratories and the experimental cooking stations now
contemplated."

We echo the wish, and look forward to the time when by
means of training-schools in domestic science, of labor-saving
devices, and of such investigations as we have undertaken to
summarize in this article, the blessings of our unequalled food-
supply may be utilized and appreciated by our American people.

1896.] SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. 779

SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS.

BY THOMAS O'HAGAN, M.A., Ph.D.

REMARKABLE feature of the Canadian litera-
ture of to-day is the strength of its women writ-
ers. 'Especially is this notable within the domain
of poetry. Some of the sweetest and truest notes
heard in the academic groves of Canadian song
come from our full-throated sopranos. Nor does the general
literature of our country lack enrichment from the female pen.
History, biography, fiction, science, and art — all these testify to
the gift and grace of Canadian women writers, and the widen-
ing possibilities of literary culture in the hearts and homes of
the Canadian people.

England has grown, perhaps, but one first-rate female novel-
ist, and it need, therefore, be no great disappointment or won-
der that none of her colonies have as yet furnished the name
of any woman eminent in fiction. The truth is the literary
expression of Canada to-day is poetic, and the literary genius
of her sons and daughters for the present is growing verse-
ward. Canada has produced more genuine poetry during the
past decade of years than any other country of the same popu-
lation in the world. What other eight young writers whose
work in poetry will rank in quality and technique with that of
Roberts, Lampman, Scott, Campbell, Miss Machar, Miss Weth-
erald, Miss Johnson, and Mrs. Harrison? It is enough to say
that these gifted singers have won an audience on both sides
of the Atlantic.

The Bourbon lilies had scarcely been snatched from the
brow of New France when the hand and heart of woman were
at work in Canadian literature. Twenty years before Maria
Edgeworth and Jane Austen had written Castle Rackrent and
Pride and Prejudice, Mrs. Frances Brooke, wife of the chaplain
of the garrison at Quebec during the vice-regal regime of Sir
Guy Carleton, published in London, England, the first Cana-
dian novel. This book, which was dedicated to the governor
of Canada, was first issued from the press in 1784.

The beginnings of Canadian literature were, indeed, modest
but sincere. While the country was in a formative condition

780 SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WAITERS. [Sept.,

and the horizon of a comfortable civilization yet afar off,
neither the men nor women of Canada had much time to
build sonnets, plan novels, or chronicle the stirring deeds of
each patriot pioneer. The epic man found, in laying the forest
giants low, the drama in the passionate welfare of his family,
and the lyric in the smiles and tears of her who rocked and
watched far into the night the tender and fragile flower that
blossomed from their union and love.

But even the twilight days of civilization and settlement in
our great Northland were not without the cheering promise of
a literature indigenous and strong, in which can be distinctly
traced the courage and heroism of man borne up by the
boundless hope and love of woman. Together these twain
fronted the primeval forest and tamed it to their purpose and
wants. Girdled with the mighty wilderness in all its multiply-
ing grandeur, the soul, though bowed by the hardships of the
day, was stirred by the simple but sublime music of the forest,
and drank in something of the glory and beauty of nature
around. Poetic spirits set in the very heart of the forest sang
of the varying and shifting aspects of nature — now of the silver
brooklet whispering at the door, now of the crimson-clad maple
of autumn-tide, now of the mystical and magical charms of
that sweet season "the Summer of all Saints."

Two names there are of women writers who deserve special
and honorable mention in connection with the early literature
of Canada. These are Susanna Moodie, one of the gifted
Strickland Sisters, and Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon. Mrs.
Hoodie's four sisters — Elizabeth, Agnes, Jane, and Mrs. Traill
— the latter yet living at the age of ninety, the doyenne of Cana-
dian literature — have all made worthy contributions to the
literature of the day ; the Lives of the Queens of England, by
Agnes Strickland, being regarded as one of the ablest and
most exhaustive works of the kind ever published. Mrs.
Moodie lived chiefly near the town of Peterboro', Ontario, and
may be justly regarded as the poet and chronicler of pioneer
days in Ontario. Her best-known works are her volume of
poems and Roughing it in the Bush. In her verse beats the
strong pulse of nature aglow with the wild and fragrant gifts
of glen and glade. Mrs. Moodie published also a number of
novels, chief among them being Flora Lindsay, Mark Hur-
dlestone, The Gold Worshipper, Geoffrey Moncton, and Dorothy
Chance.

Mrs. , Leprohon was, like Mrs. Moodie, poet and novelist.

1896.]

SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WKITEXS.

781

She did perhaps more than any other Canadian writer to fos-
ter and promote the growth of a national literature. In her
novels she aimed at depicting society in Canada prior to and

S. A. CURZON.

AGNES MAULE MACHAR.

GRACE DEAN MACLEOD RCGERS.

FRANCES HARRISON.

MARSHALL SAUNDERS.

immediately after the conquest. One of her novels, Antoinette
de Mirecourt, is regarded by many as one of the best Canadian
VOL. LXIII.— 50

782 SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WAITERS. [Sept.,

novels yet written. Simplicity and grace mark her productions
in verse. Mrs. Leprohon lived in Montreal, and did her best
work in the " fifties."

A woman writer of great merit was Isabella Valancey Craw-
ford. Her death, which occurred some ten years ago, was a
distinct loss to Canadian literature. Miss Crawford's poetic
gift was eminently lyrical, full of music, color, and originality.
She published but one volume, Old Spook's Pass, Malcolm's
Katie, and other Poems, which is royal throughout with the
purple touch of genius. No Canadian woman has yet appeared
quite equal to Miss Crawford in poetic endowment.

Down by the sea, where the versatile and gifted pen of
Joseph Howe and the quaint humor of " Sam Slick " stirred and
charmed as with a wizard's wand the people's hearts, the voice
of woman was also heard in the very dawn of Canadian life
and letters. Miss Clotilda Jennings and the two sisters, Mary
E. and Sarah Herbert, glorified their country in poems worthy
of the literary promise which their young and ardent hearts
were struggling to fulfil.

Another whose name will be long cherished in the literary
annals of Nova Scotia is Mary Jane Katzmann Lawson, who
died in Halifax, March, 1890. On her mother's side Mrs. Law-
son was a kinswoman of Prescott, the historian. She was a volu-
minous contributor to the periodicals of the day and was her-
self editor for two years of the Halifax Monthly Magazine. Her
poems, written too hurriedly, are uneven and in some instances
lack wholly the fashioning power of true inspiration. When her
lips were touched, however, with the genuine honey of Hymet-
tus she sang well, as in such poems as " Some Day," " Song
of the Morning," and " Song of the Night." In the opinion of
many the work of Mrs. Lawson as an historian is superior to her
work as a poet. Considering, however, the industry of her pen
and the general quality of its output, Mrs. Lawson deserves a
place among the foremost women writers of her native province.

There passed away last year near Niagara Falls, Ontario, a
gifted woman who did not a little in the days of her strength for
the fostering of Canadian letters. Miss Louisa Murray, author
of a poem of genuine merit, " Merlin's Cave," and two novels,
The Cited Curate and The Settlers of Long Arrow, will not soon
be forgotten as one of the pioneer women writers of Canada.

The venerable and kindly form of Catharine Parr Traill
happily remains with us yet as a link between the past and
present in Canadian literature. Nor has her intellect become

1896.]

SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS.

783

dimmed or childish. Although ninety years nestle in the bene-
diction of her silvery hair her gifts of head and heart remain
still vigorous, as is evidenced in the two works, Pearls and Peb-

ANNA T. SADLIER. MAUD OGILVY.

KATE MADELEINE BARRY.
FAITH FENTON. JANET CARNOCHAN.

bles and Cot and Cradle Stories, which have come from her pen
within the past two years. For more than sixty years this
clever and scholarly woman, worthy indeed of the genius of the

784 SoAfE CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. [Sept.,

Strickland family, has been making contributions to Canadian
literature from the wealth of her richly stored and cultivated
mind. Now a tale, now a study of the wild flowers and shrubs
in the Canadian forest, occupies her busy pen. Mrs. Traill is
indeed great in the versatility of her gifts, the measure of her
achievements, the crowning length of her years, and the sweet-
ness of her life and character.

Like Desdemona in the play of " Othello," Mrs. J. Sadlier,
the veteran novelist, now a resident of Canada, owes a double
allegiance — to the city of Montreal and to the city of New
York. The author of The Blakes and Flanagans and many other
charming Irish stories has been, however, living for some years
past in this country, and, while a resident of the Canadian
metropolis, has helped to enrich the literature of Canada with
the product of her richly dowered pen. Last year Notre Dame
University, Indiana, conferred on Mrs. Sadlier the Laetare Medal
as a recognition of her gifts and services as a Catholic writer.

Two of the strongest women writers in Ontario are Agnes
Maule Machar and Sara Anne Curzon. Miss Machar possesses
a strong subjective faculty, joined to a keen sense of the artis-
tic. The gift of her pen is both critical and creative, and her
womanly and sympathetic mind is found in the van of every
movement among Canadian women that has for its purpose a
deeper and broader enlightenment based upon principles of
wisdom, charity, and love. Miss Machar is both a versatile
and productive writer, novel, poem, and critique flowing from
her pen in bright succession, and with a grace and ease that
betokens the life-long student and artist. An undertone of in-
tense Canadian patriotism is found running through all her
work. Under the nom de plume of " Fidelis " she has contributed
to nearly all the leading Canadian and American magazines.
Her two best novels are entitled For King and Country and
Lost and Won.

Mrs. Curzon has a virility of style and a security of touch
that indicate at the same time a clear and robust mind. Her
best and longest poem, " Laura Secord " — dramatic in spirit
and form — has about it a masculinity and energy found in the
work of no other Canadian woman. Mrs. Curzon is a woman
of strong character and principles, and her writings share in the
strength of her judgments. Perhaps she may be best described
as one who has the intellect of a man wedded to the heart of
a woman.

Quite a unique writer among Canadian women is Frances

1896.]

SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS.

785

Harrison, better known in literary circles by her pen-name of
" Seranus." Mrs. Harrison has a dainty and distinct style all
her own, and her gift' of song is both original and true. She

LILY ALICE LEFEVRE. ELIZABETH G. ROBERTS.

HELEN M. MERRILL.
EMMA WELLS DICKSON. CONSTANCE FAIRBANKS.

has made a close study of themes which have their root in
the French life of Canada, and her " half French heart "

786 SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. [Sept.,

eminently qualifies her for the delicacy of her task. Indeed,
it is doubtful if any other woman writer of to-day can handle
so successfully that form of poetry known as the villanelle.
Her book of poems, Pine Rose and Fleur de Lts, has met with
much favor at the hands of critics, while her prose sketches
and magazine critiques prove her to be a woman of exquisite
taste and judgment in all things literary.

There are two women writers in Nova Scotia who deserve
more than a mere conventional notice. By the gift and grace
of their pens Marshall Saunders and Grace Dean MacLeod
Rogers have won a large audience far beyond their native land.
Miss Saunders is best known as the author of Beautiful Joe, a
story which won the five-hundred-dollar prize offered by the
American Humane Society. So popular has been this humane
tale that when published by a Philadelphia firm it reached the
enormous sale ,of fifty thousand in eighteen months. Beautiful
Joe has already been translated into Swedish, German, and
Japanese. The work is full of genius, heart, and insight.
Other works by Miss Saunders are a novelette entitled My
Spanish Sailor and a novel Come to Halifax.

Mrs. Rogers, while widely different from Miss Saunders in
her gifts as a writer, has been equally as successful in her
chosen field. She has made the legends and folk-lore of the
old Acadian regime her special study. With a patience and
gift of earnest research worthy of a true historian, Mrs. Rogers
has visited every nook and corner of old Acadia where could
be found stories linked to the life and labors of these interest-
ing but ill-fated people. Side by side with Longfellow's sweet,
sad story of Evangeline will now be read Stories of the Land
of Evangeline, by this clever Nova Scotia woman. Mrs. Rogers
has an easy, graceful style which lends to the product of her
pen an additional charm. She is unquestionably one of the
most gifted among the women writers of Canada.

Connected with the Toronto press are two women writers
who have achieved a distinct success. Katharine Blake Wat-
kins, better known by her pen-name of " Kit," is indeed a
woman of rare adornments and a writer of remarkable power
and individuality. It maybe truly said of her Nihil quod tetigit
non ornavit. As a critic she has sympathy, insight, judgment, and
taste. It is doubtful if any other woman in America wields so
secure and versatile a pen as " Kit " of the Toronto Mail-Empire.

" Faith Fenton," now editing very brilliantly a woman's
journal in Toronto, and for a number of years connected with

1896.] SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. 787

the Toronto Empire, is also a writer of much strength and pro-
mise. Her work is marked by a sympathy and depth of sin-
cerity that bespeak a noble, womanly mind and nature. She is
equally felicitous as a writer of prose and verse. Every move-
ment that has for its purpose the wise advancement of woman
finds a ready espousal in " Faith Fenton."

As a writer of strong and vigorous articles in support of the
demands of women for a wider enfranchisement Mary Russell
Chesley, of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, stands at the head of the
Canadian women of to-day. Mrs. Chesley is of Quaker descent,
and possesses all a true Quaker's unbending resolve and high
sense of freedom and equality. This clever controversialist in
defence of her views has broken a lance with some of the lead-
ing minds of the United States and Canada, and in every in-
stance has done credit to her sex and the cause she has espoused.

In Moncton, New Brunswick, lives Grace Campbell, another
maritime woman writer of note and merit. Miss Campbell
holds views quite opposed to those of Mrs. Chesley on the
woman question. They are best set forth by the author her-
self where she says : " The best way for woman to win her
rights is to be as true and charming a woman as possible,
rather than an imitation man." As a writer Miss Campbell's
gifts are versatile, and she has touched with equal success poem,
story, and review. She possesses a gift rare among women —
the gift of humor.

There is an advantage in being descended from literary
greatness provided the shadow of this greatness come not too
near. Anna T. Sadlier is the daughter of a gifted mother
whose literary work has already been referred to. Miss
Sadlier has done particularly good work in her translations from
French and Italian, as well as in her biographical sketches and
short stories. As a writer she is both strong and artistic.

A writer who possesses singular richness of style is Kate
Seymour McLean, of Kingston, Ontario. Mrs. McLean has not
done much literary work during the past few years, but when-
ever the product of her pen graces our periodicals it bears the
stamp of a richly cultivated mind.

Our larger Canadian cities have been not only the centres
of trade, but also the centres of literary thought and culture.
Halifax, Montreal, Ottawa, and Toronto hold much that is
best in the literary life of Canada.

Kate Madeleine Barry, the novelist and essayist, resides in
Ottawa, the capital of the Dominion. This clever young writer

;88

SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WKITERS. LSept,

has essayed two novels, Honor Edgeworth and The Doctor's
Daughter, both intended to depict certain phases of social life
and character at the Canadian capital. Miss Barry has a bright

GRACE CAMPBELL.
EVE BRODLIQUE.
ETHELWYN WETHERALD.

MARGARET POLSON MURRAY.
JEAN BLEWETT.
EMILY MCMANUS.

1896.] SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. 789

and cultivated mind, philosophical in its grasp and insight, and
exceedingly discriminating in its critical bearings.

Margaret Poison Murray, Maud Ogilvy, and Blanche
Macdonell are three Montreal women who have done good
work with their pens.

Mrs. Murray is the wife of Professor Clarke Murray of
McGill University, and is one of the leading musical and literary
factors in the metropolis of Canada. She was for some time
editor of the Yoiing Canadian, a magazine which during its
short-lived days was true to Canadian aspiration and thought.
Mrs. Murray busies herself in such manifold ways that it is
difficult to record her activities. Her best literary work has
been done as Montreal, Ottawa, and Washington correspondent
of the Toronto Week. She has a versatile mind, great industry,
and the very worthiest of ideals.

Miss Ogilvy is a very promising young writer whose work
during the past five or six years has attracted much attention
among Canadian readers. She is best known as a novelist,
being particularly successful in depicting life among the French
habitants of Quebec. Two well written biographies — one of
Honorable J. J. C. Abbott, late premier of Canada, and the other
of Sir Donald Smith — are also the work of her pen. Miss
Ogilvy is a thorough Canadian in every letter and line of her
life-work.

Miss Macdonell is of English and French extraction. On
her mother's side she holds kinship with Abbe Ferland, late
professor in Laval University, Quebec, and author of the well-
known historical work Cours a" Histoire du Canada. Like Miss
Ogilvy, Miss Macdonell has essayed novel-writing and with
success, making the old French regime in Canada the chief field
of her exploration and study. Two of her most successful
novels are The World's Great Altar Stairs and For Faith and
King. Miss Macdonell has written for many of the leading
American periodicals and has gained an entrance into several
journals in England. Her work is full-blooded and instinct with
Canadian life and thought.

A patriotic and busy pen in Canadian letters is that of Janet
Carnochan, of Niagara, Ontario. Miss Carnochan has made a
thorough study of the Niagara frontier, and many of her
themes in prose and verse have their -root in its historic soil.
She has been for years a valued contributor to Canadian
magazines, and has become so associated in the public mind
with the life and history of the old town of Niagara that the

790 SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. [Sept.,

Canadian people have grown to recognize her as the poet and
historian of this quaint and eventful spot.

Among the younger Canadian women writers few have
done stronger and better work than Mary Agnes Fitzgibbon.
Miss Fitzgibbon is a granddaughter of Mrs. Moodie, and so is
as a writer to the manner born. Her best work is A Veteran
of 1812. This book contains the stirring story of the life of
Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzgibbon — grandfather of the author — a
gallant British officer who so nobly upheld the military honor
of Canada and England in the Niagara peninsula during the
War of 1812. Every incident is charmingly told, and Miss
Fitzgibbon has in a marked degree the gift of a clear and
graphic narrator.

A writer who has accomplished a good deal in Canadian
letters is Amy M. Berlinguet, of Three Rivers, Quebec. Mrs.
Berlinguet is a sister to Joseph Pope, secretary of the late Sir
John A. Macdonald and author of the life of that eminent
Canadian statesman. Mrs. Berlinguet's strength lies in her
descriptive powers and the clearness and readiness with which
she can sketch a pen-picture. She has written for some of
the best magazines of the day.

In Truro, Nova Scotia, has lately risen a novelist whose
work has met with much favor. Emma Wells Dickson, whose
pen-name is " Stanford Eveleth," has many of the gifts of a
true novelist. Her work Miss Dexie, which is a romance of
the provinces, is a bright tale told in a pleasant and capti-
vating manner.

In the city of Vancouver, British Columbia, lives Lily Alice
Lefevre, whose beautiful poem, " The Spirit of the Carnival,"
won the hundred-dollar prize offered by the Montreal Witness.
Few of our Canadian women poets have a truer note of in-
spiration than Mrs. Lefevre. She writes little, but all her
work bears the mark of real merit. Her volume of poems,
The Lions Gate, recently published, is full of good things
from cover to cover. Under the pen-name of " Fleurange "
Mrs. Lefevre has contributed to many of the Canadian and
American magazines.

Another writer on the Pacific coast is Mrs. Alfred J. Watt,
best known in literary circles by her maiden name of Madge
Robertson. Mrs. Watt has a facile pen in story-writing and has
done some good work for several society and comic papers.
She was for some time connected with the press of New York
and Toronto. Her best work is done in a light and racy vein.

1896.]

SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS,

791

Far out on the prairie from the town of Regina, the capi-
tal of the Canadian North-west Territories, has recently come

MRS. EVERARD COTES, SOPHIE M. A. HENSLEY.
(nee Sara Jeannette Duncan.)

HELEN GREGORY-FLESHER, M.A., Mus.B.

E. PAULINE JOHNSON. MADGE ROBERTSON.

a voice fresh and strong. Kate Hayes knows well how to em-
body in a poem something of the rough life and atmosphere

792 SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WAITERS. [Sept.,

found in the prairie settlements of the West. Her poem
" Rough Ben " is certainly unique of its kind. Miss Hayes has
also in collaboration composed a number of excellent songs.

It is not often that the poetic gift is duplicated in its be-
stowal in a family. This, however, has been the case with the
Robertses of Fredericton, New Brunswick. The English world
is well acquainted with the work of Charles G. D. Roberts, the
foremost of Canadian singers ; but it is not generally known
that all his brothers and his sister, Elizabeth Gostwycke Rob-
erts, share with him in the divine endowment of song. The
work of Miss Roberts is both strong and artistic. True to
that special attribute of feminine genius, she writes best in the
subjective mood. Under the guidance and kindly criticism of
her elder brother Miss Roberts has had set before her high
literary ideals, and has acquired a style which has gained for
her an entrance into some of the leading magazines of the day.

Perhaps the best-known woman writer to-day in Canada is
E. Pauline Johnson. Miss Johnson possesses. a dual gift — that
of poet and reciter. She has a true genius for verse and, apart
from the novelty attached to her origin in being the daughter
of a Mohawk chief, possesses the most original voice heard to-
day in the groves of Canadian song. She has great insight, an
artistic touch, and truth of impression. Her voice is far more
than aboriginal — it is a voice which interprets not alone the
hopes, joys, and sorrows of her race, but also the beauty and
glory of nature around. Miss Johnson is on her mother's
side a kinswoman of W. D. Howells, the American novelist.
Her volume of poems, The White Wampum, is indeed a valu-
able contribution to Canadian poetry.

A young writer whose work has attracted much attention
lately is M. Amelia Fitche, of Halifax, Nova Scotia. Her
novel, Kerchiefs to Hunt Souls, has been very favorably noticed
in many of the magazine reviews of the day.

Constance Fairbanks is another Halifax woman who has
done some creditable literary work. Miss Fairbanks was for
some years assistant editor of the Halifax Critic. Her verse is
strongly imaginative. In prose Miss Fairbanks has a well-bal-
anced style, simple and smooth.

Helen M. Merrill, of Picton, Ontario, is an impressionist.
She can transcribe to paper, in prose or verse, a mood of mind
or nature with a fidelity truly remarkable. Her work in
poetry is singularly vital and wholesome, and has in it in
abundance the promise and element of growth. She is equally

1896.] SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. 793

happy in prose or verse, and is so conscientious in her work
that little coming from her pen has about it anything weak or
inartistic. Miss Merrill is a descendant of Jonathan Edwards,
well known in the colonial literature of America.

A name which bears merit in Canadian literature is that of
Helen Fairbairn, of Montreal. Miss Fairbairn has not a large
literary output, but the quality of her work is in every instance
good. She is happiest and best in her prose sketches.

For some years past Canadian journals and magazines have
contained sonnets from the pen of Ethelwyn Wetherald. These
poems had a strength and finish about them which at once at-
tracted the attention of critics and scholars. Miss Wetherald
has lately collected her verse in book form, the volume bear-
ing the title of The House of the Trees, and it is safe to say
that a collection of poems of such merit has never before
been published by any Canadian woman. In subject matter
and technique Miss Wetherald is equally felicitous. She is al-
ways poetic, always artistic.

Jean Blewett resides in the little town of Blenheim, Ontario,,
but her genius ranges abroad. Mrs. Blewett has the truest and
most sympathetic touch of any Canadian woman writer of
to-day. I never read the product of her pen but I feel that
she has all the endowments requisite for a first-rate novelist.
Her verse, which has not yet appeared in book form, is ex-
quisite— possessing a subtle glow and depth of tenderness all
its own. Mrs. Blewett's first book, Out of the Depths, was pub-
lished at the age of nineteen, and its merit was such as to gain
for her a place among the brightest of our Canadian writers.

Emily McManus, of Kingston, Ontario, is a name not un-
known to Canadian readers. Her work in prose and verse is
marked by naturalness and strength. Though busily engaged in
her profession as a teacher, Miss McManus finds time to write
some charming bits of verse for Canadian journals and magazines.

There are three Canadian women now residing out of Can-
ada who properly belong to the land of the Maple Leaf by
reason of their birth, education, and literary beginnings. These
are : Mrs. Everard Cotes, of Calcutta, India, better known by her
maiden name of Sara Jeannette Duncan ; Helen Gregory-Flesher,.
of San Francisco, and Sophie Almon Hensley, of New York.

Mrs. Cotes is one of the cleverest women Canada has yet
produced. She flashed across the literary sky of her native
land with a splendor almost dazzling in its brightness and
strength. Her first work, entitled A Social Departure, gained

794

CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS.

[Sept.,

for her immediate fame, and this was soon followed by a sec-
ond book, An American Girl in London. Mrs. Cotes has a happy

element of humor which counts
for much in writing. Since her
residence in the Orient the au-
thor of A Social Departure has
devoted herself chiefly to the
writing of stories descriptive of
Anglo-Indian life. One of these,
The Story of Sonny Sahib, is a
charming little tale. It will be
a long time indeed before the
bright name of
Sara Jeannette
Duncan is for-
gotten in the
literary circles
of Canada.
HELEN FAIRBAIRN. H^^^H Mrs. Flesh or

that Canada has is perhaps one

yet produced. : ; ,x;^ of the bright-

She has had a jNi ' ' V -, est all-around

most scholarly ^ ' ' women writers

career. Her uni-
versity courses
in music and arts
have placed her
upon a vantage
ground which
she has strength-
ened by her own unceasing labor
and industry. Mrs. Flesher is a
clever critic, a clever story-writer,
a clever sketcher, and a clever
musician. At present she is doing
work for a number of leading
American magazines and editing
the Search Light, a San Francisco
monthly publication devoted to
the advancement of woman.

Mrs. Hensley, who resides in New York, is both poet and
novelist, and is regarded by competent critics as one of Can-
ada's best sonneteers. Sincerity and truth mark all her work.

CATHARINE PARR
TRAILL.

AMY M. BERLINGUET.

1896.] SOME CANADIAN WOMEN WRITERS. 795

When quite young Mrs. Hensley, who was then residing in the
collegiate town of Windsor, Nova Scotia, submitted her pro-
ductions to the criticism and approbation of her friend, Charles
G. D. Roberts, and this in some measure explains the high
ideal of her work. Mrs. Hensley holds kinship with Cotton
Mather, the colonial writer and author. At present she' is giv-
ing her time chiefly to story-writing, and is meeting with much
success.

In Chicago there lives and toils a bright little woman who,
though living under an alien sky, is proud to consider Can-
ada her home. Eve Brodlique is justly regarded as one of
the cleverest women writers in the West. Since her connec-
tion with the Chicago press, some five or six years ago, she
has achieved a reputation which adds lustre to the work ac-
complished by woman in journalism. Her latest literary pro-
duction is a one-act play entitled " A Training School for
Lovers," which has met with much success on the stage.

The heart and brain of Canadian women have indeed been
fruitful in literary achievement, but no brief article such as
this can hope to do justice to its quality or its worth. The
feminine gift is a distinct gift in letters— it is the gift of grace,
insight, and a noble subjectivity. Take the feminine element
out of literature — remove the sopranos from our groves, and
how dull and flat would be the grand, sweet song of life !

There are many Canadian women writers worthy of a place
in this paper whom space excludes. Yet their good work will
not remain unchronicled — unheeded. Their sonnets and their
songs, and their highest creations, nursed out by the gift of
heart and brain, will have an abiding place in Canadian, life
and letters, consecrating it with all the strength and sweetness
of a woman's devotion and love. The twentieth century has
well-nigh opened its portals, and the wisdom of prophetic
minds has enthroned it as the century of woman. Already is
it recognized on all sides that the consummation — the ultimate
perfection — of the race must be wrought out through the moral
excellence of woman. Seeing, then, that the gift of song has
its root in spiritual endowment, what poetic possibilities may
we not expect from the future ? May we not with confidence
look to woman to embody this divinity of excellence, and
crown with her voice the choral service of every land ?

796 CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

CHECKMATED EACH OTHER.

BY F. M. EDSELAS.

•F experience, of that substantial sort not soon for-
gotten, has not impressed this truism, that " only
through difficulties can we reach the stars," I
very much fear nothing else ever will. Tis true
I have not yet reached the nearest of those glit-
tering gems, but flatter myself, if courage and perseverance
only hold out, that each day will bring me nearer to them.

My parents — God bless them ! — were the best in the world
but for one great mistake — that of too readily yielding to
my foolish whims and fancies. Being the eldest of our little
trio — there was Tina and baby-boy Fritz besides myself — no
doubt had much to do with this error, but dearly did I pay
for it.

After the first few days of my school-life, in its most at-
tractive form, that of a kindergarten, it became so wearisome
that I decided education was not intended for me, and frankly
told my parents something to that effect. Following wise tra-
dition in such cases, threats and promises were forcibly tried
to win me to more sensible views ; but having come out victor
in similar contests, in this too I carried the day. Being initiated
into the simplest elements of knowledge, then said I, " Thus
far, but no farther." There my education came to a standstill.

Now and then "A new leaf was turned over"; but alas!
for father's plots and mother's plans, they soon proved abor-
tive. Dislike to school-life so grew with my growth that the
mere idea of being shut up for six hours daily at a desk and
in silence was too much for me. Indeed, I often looked at
the other children, plodding on day after day at their lessons
like so many clocks wound up in the morning to run down at
night, and just as often wondered if I hadn't sprung from a
different race of beings — perhaps with the blood of an Indian
or an Arab in my veins — so terrible did school-life appear.

Carl, the pony, and I were the best of friends, and many a
race did we have over the plains just outside the great West-
ern city where we lived. As for the rest, little cared I whether

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 797

the Atlantic bordered the eastern or northern coast of America,
or perchance washed across the equator, if it liked ; whether
John Smith or Washington discovered America. My shallow
brain wouldn't be bothered with such trifles.

But music ! — of that I never tired ; not, however, in the
humdrum way of counting one, two, three, four, or pounding
out the scales and chasing the little black figures on the ladder
as they climbed up and down the staff. No, no ; there was no
music in that for me. But just let me listen to some grand
melody while strolling through the park, catch the inspiration
it was sure to give, then go home and make my Steinway re-
peat it for me — thus passing hours and hours forming variations
and transcriptions of the theme, wild or weird, sad or gay, as
the spirit moved — then was my happiness complete.

Alas ! for the poor music-teacher ; and his life, what a martyr-
dom ! A quick, impulsive German, thrilling with music from
the zenith to the nadir of his being, surely he would have been
well-nigh ready for canonization not to have lost all patience
while listening to my frolics with the piano. He was, however,
intensely mortal, and proved it more than once.

" It ees von schame, Mees Henrica. Wid sooch talends
makes you more famous as Liszt ; might be annuder Rubenstein,
or even a Mozart, eef you only vonce stoody de harmony und
de brincibles of moosic. Ach ! it bees so grand den already."

I heard, but heeded not.

" Haven't the patience, professor, and don't care either for
all that grinding and hard work. My music suits me ; people
like it; then what need of anything more?"

"Ach! meine fraulein, you makes von pig meestake." Then
shaking his shaggy head, would give vent to his emotions in
some marvellous gymnastics on the piano, thrilling every nerve
in my body with wonder and delight.

A few years of this freedom ; then I crossed the threshold
leading into my teens. Papa, fairly desperate over my wilful
ignorance, placed me as weekly boarder at a young ladies'
academy. Yet my own sweet will here asserted its rights when
possible. Lessons were skimmed over or utterly ignored ;
monthly bulletins proved a disgrace to myself, family, and the
institution that gave them birth. My teachers, long-suffering
martyrs, used every device known in the manual of school dis-
cipline to bring about the desired reform ; but vain the attempt.

Thus matters went on at the academy for two years, when
VOL. LXIII. — 51

798 CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

a turn came in the long lane. Tired of the long litany of com-
plaints, mamma looked sad and anxious, papa stern and des-
perate. Though little was said, I plainly saw heavy clouds
gathering overhead. What could they portend ? I dared not
even guess.

Devotedly as I loved my father, I must confess that in
some respects he is a queer sort of a man — peculiar, some call
him. Let a tangible idea once strike his brain as feasible, no
matter how absurd the outlook, it must become a fact ; be at
once converted into an act, though the heavens fall. Accus-
tomed as we were to these sudden freaks, they seldom caused
us much surprise ; and to do my father justice, though at first
his strange ventures promised anything but success, yet their
general outcome paid tribute to that keen intuition which sees
the end from the beginning — as, " hac fabula docet."

At this period of my frivolous life I was strolling around
the house one Thursday afternoon about the middle of Feb-
ruary, having quarantined myself for a week with a slight cold.
My father guessed, and more than once broadly hinted, that
it was a mere excuse for freedom from school duties. Imagine
then my surprise, when leaving the lunch-table, to hear him
say very pleasantly :

" See here, Rica, how would you like to take a trip with me?"

" A trip, papa ! Where, pray tell ? "

" Out towards Bismarck, Dak. You know your Aunt Jen-
nie lives near there."

Almost beside myself with joy, I danced and clapped my
hands, exclaiming, " Oh ! you're the dearest, best papa in the
world ; I could almost eat you up " — at the same time cover-
ing him with kisses.

" Well, just wait awhile before you make a meal of me."

"But how soon, papa— next week?"

" Next week, child ! No, to-day ; this very afternoon."

"But how can I? My things are not fixed; have to get
ready, pack ; then I'll need some new dresses, you know ; and —

" Nonsense ! The only thing I know, Rica, is that my plans
are all made, and go we must on the 5 o'clock flyer or not at all."

That "not at all" settled it,; couldn't miss such a chance
for forty dresses.

"Then I'll be ready; you'll help me, mamma, won't you?"
And I flew round like a top, gathering together my little toilet
and wardrobe articles, while with mamma's help the trunk was
soon filled.

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 799

" Isn't it funny that papa should take such a sudden notion?
Though just like him ; hope he won't change, for if—

" Don't think so, dear ; you know his queer freaks ; hope
everything will turn out well for both of you "; and there was
a tone of sadness as she said this, while I saw the tears com-
ing as she bent over the trunk, smoothing and fixing the things
with almost the very touch of tenderness she would have given
her wayward daughter — I even felt it way down in my heart.
What could it all mean ? Before this she had always seemed
so glad and cheery when on one of my trips with papa. I be-
gan to feel queer too, but tried to choke it down while giving
a drop of comfort to the one I loved best.

" I'm not going to stay for ever, mamma ; will write every
day, if you say so. Guess I'll be glad enough to come home
in less than a month; nobody is half as nice as my own dear
mamma. Other folks make a big fuss over you at first ; but
all their hugs and kisses can't begin to come up to one of
yours, and don't last either ; so I can't help feeling after awhile
as if they were tired of me ; but you never are, I know, if — "

" God forbid, my darling ! " was the stifled answer, as she
folded me in a loving embrace. " I'd be too glad to have you
take a trip now and then, if you'd only settle down to study;
just see all the other girls so far in advance of you."

" I know all that, mamma ; and indeed I promise for sure
and certain to begin in earnest when I come home, for I really
am ashamed to be so far behind the other girls."

" Indeed I hope so, dear " — at the same time helping on with
my wraps. " Now, remember to be a lady on the cars and
wherever you —

Just then Fritz caught sight of the carriage coming up the
drive, and shouted : " Here's John weddy for you, Rica ; bing
me tandy and a big dum, and lots more tings."

"Yes, darling, I'll try to —

" All aboard ! " called out papa, rushing in for his grip and
overcoat. Kisses and hurried good-bys to the loved ones, and
we were soon rolling out of the gateway without even seeing my
sister Tina, who had not come in from school. We had barely
time to secure checks, tickets, and to board the train — then
whirl at lightning speed away from home and its dearest
treasures.

Having fairly caught breath and settled myself, I was more
perplexed than ever. Really, I had never seen papa so uneasy ;
couldn't sit still a minute ; was continually rushing in and out

8oo CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

of the coach, looking so troubled and anxious ; he bought
paper after paper, seeming hardly to know what he was about,
for with a hurried glance would throw them aside or pass the
sheet to another passenger. In fact became so troubled at this
strange conduct that I feared he might soon go crazy.

I must find out what all this means, and so get relief for
better or worse, was the thought urging me to ask, " What in
the world is the matter, papa ? "

"Nothing much, I guess; why do you ask?"

"Just because I can't help it, you act so queer: don't an-
swer half my questions, won't listen to anything I say ; you
must be thinking about something else."

" Very likely, Rica ; have a good deal on my mind just
now. Here, take this book — Ben Hur — it's grand ; and The
Old-Fashioned Girl, with Zoes Daughter — one of Mrs. Dorsey's
best — fine, all of them.

" Thanks, papa " ; and I tried to read with one eye while
watching him with the other, ready for any outbreak that
might occur, for there was still the same odd smile and quizzi-
cal look, making sure there was something in the wind. Had
train-robbers appeared, or an earthquake shock thrown us all
into a heap, wouldn't have been greatly astonished, ready as
I felt for anything strange or terrible. The whispered t£te-a-
tetes of papa and the conductor, with side glances at me, only
kept me more on the rack.

As for the books, I could follow Zoe, and Polly with Tom,
better than Ben Hur and the Three Kings, though all the
characters seemed strangely jumbled together.

" How soon shall we be in Bismarck ? " I ventured to ask
about noon of the day after leaving home.

" Can't say exactly, Rica ; guess the trip won't run more
than one hundred and fifty miles farther."

" I'll be very glad then, for it's so tiresome jogging on this
way — no one to talk with, and all the time wondering what's
up "; adding to myself, " if I could but find the thread to this
puzzle ; but the more I try the less I know, so will see what
a nap can do to bring a little comfort," and settled myself ac-
cordingly. I know not how long it lasted, but was roused by
papa saying :

"Come, Rica, pick up your traps; we get off here."

Half bewildered, I jumped up and followed my leader from
the car to the ladies' room.

"Where are we now, papa? Is this- Bismarck?"

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 80 1

" Not quite, dear ; it's—"

Between the noise of whistles and bells I couldn't make
out the rest until he added : " Wait here while I call a hack ;
we'll have time to take a short drive through town."

While waiting the station-agent looked in, and, seeing only
a solitary female off in a corner, asked if I was booked for
any place in town.

" No, indeed," was my rather pettish answer ; " I'm travel-
ling with my father from Colorado to Dakota."

"To Dakota, hey? Don't say; that's queer; 'fraid you're
off the line, but s'pose your father knows what he's about."

" Of course he does ; travels nearly all the time ; there he
comes now."

" Carriage ready, daughter ; better bring all your budgets ;
not always safe to leave them."

"All right, papa; I'm ready — for almost anything," I added
under my breath — and with more than one misgiving took my
seat in the open landau. Verily I was taking my first serious
lesson in the primer of life, but, like many such lessons, not
without its advantages.

The afternoon, bright, crispy, and fresh, was a welcome
change from the hot, stifling air of the cars.

Rolling at a brisk pace through the residence and business
portions of the new-fledged city, I would have been in the
best of spirits had papa been himself once more ; but the same
anxious, restless look and manner gave me no peace, and,
for lack of anything interesting to say, I returned to the old
topic.

" When does the train leave, papa ? "

" At 8:30 this evening."

"There'll be time, then, for a long drive?"

" Yes, Rica, and some to spare, I think."

" Shall we see Bismarck in the morning ? "

"Hardly think so."

" It's farther than I thought."

" Yes, a good distance yet. Pretty fine town this ; they're
rustlers here, and no mistake ; not been built twenty years
they tell me ; shows the grass don't grow under their feet."

Just then a word from my father to the driver, which I
could not catch, caused us to turn from the more thickly set-
tled part of the town out on a broad road, when, giving our
horses free rein, we made full speed.

" O papa ! this is glorious, but don't believe you like it as

802 CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

well as I do. See ; what's that large building way out here all
by itself, looking so lonesome?"

"That building? Let me see — "

Growing nervous at his hesitation, I quickly added, " Yes,
papa, that building ? "

" Why, Rica, it's — it's just where I'm going to leave you at
school — hem — hem — "

"What did you say — at school? Where's Aunt Jennie's
house? Isn't this Dakota?"

With a forced laugh he confessed that we were hundreds of
miles from Bismarck.

"What do you mean? have you been fooling me ? O papa!
papa ! for shame ; how could you ? " And springing up I looked
out the carriage window, but could see only broad plains, with
here and there a few scattered houses. Almost breathless with
astonishment, anger, and even rage, my hot temper broke loose,
and for the time held full sway, as I blurted out rude and
unkind words, of which my father took little heed except to say :

" Don't forget yourself, my daughter ; it's all arranged, and
for your good, too. You will remain at this convent academy
until—"

" Convent ! convent ! did you say ? Worse and worse ; to
be shut up like a caged animal. I am not —

" Be careful, Henrica. I have tried everything else to in-
duce you to do what your mother and I so much desire, there-
fore decided on this as the best course to take. After all,
you'll not find convent life so terrible when you've had a taste
of it. I know well what I am doing, loving you too dearly to
be harsh and cruel as you now think I am ; but here we are
at the entrance door."

Ushered into the academy parlor, I had by no means ral-
lied from my storm of passion, therefore barely noticed the
kindly greeting of the mother-superior and directress, Sister
Teresa, or listened to the arrangements for my admission —
merely sitting by the window and preserving an obstinate
silence. Then came the leave-taking ; but between pride and
anger I would not shed a tear, though my heart almost
snapped in twain.

" Homesick as death ! Was ever pang like this ?
....••
Too old to let my watery grief appear ;
And what so bitter as a swallowed tear?"

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 803

Holmes could not have better expressed my utter desola-
tion just then. Kind and fatherly words were not wanting, with
the needed advice.

" I know it's pretty hard, Rica ; but — "

" O papa ! if you hadn't tricked me in this way ; 'tis too
bad — too bad — " and the flood of tears that I could no longer
keep back choked my reproaches.

" Yes, dear ; can't blame you much for being so broken up
over it, but some day you'll go down on your knees and thank
me for what now seems so unkind."

A few more words — the parting was over — papa gone — and
I alone among strangers. Oh! the terrible desolation of that
moment. Verily, I felt like one washed off by a mighty wave
from some grand old steamer, and left to the mercy of treach-
erous winds and currents.

But my truthful narrative, for such indeed it is, must not
fail in fidelity even to the end.

Kindly arms encircled me, friendly voices of the good sis-
ters and pupils welcomed the stranger, giving her a place in
their hearts. By special arrangement of my father I was re-
ceived as a parlor boarder, and placed under the direction of
the sister directress, who would give me private instruction un-
til able to take my place with some credit among pupils of my
own age.

Being deeply touched by this thoughtful kindness of my
father, I became somewhat reconciled to my fate ; in truth,
the knowledge of so great deficiency in scholarship had been
the chief cause of that determined opposition to the school
proposal.

As the evening study-bell rang, soon after a chat with some
of the pupils, Sister Teresa kindly led me up to one of the
alcoves in the dormitory, saying : " Your room is not quite
ready, dear, so this must answer for to-night."

A cozy little place it was, nicely curtained off in white, so
as to be completely separate from my neighbors. The com-
bination bureau and toilet-stand, conveniently furnished, with
an inviting sort of camp-bed, completed the domain.

"You must be so tired after your long journey that a day
or two of rest will come first before we think of books and
studies, so you can be free to amuse yourself as you like best.
I well know restraint will came rather hard after so long en-
joying your freedom, but both our sisters and girls will do all

804 CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

they can to make your life home-like and pleasant — that is the
spirit of our academy. Now, good-night ; sleep as long as you
wish in the morning." And so I did until — I wouldn't like to
say what hour. It being Saturday, and free time from lessons,
I mingled freely with the girls, finding much the same variety
as elsewhere, with this difference, that all seemed dead-in-
earnest in whatever they did ; it was as if one spirit and pur-
pose animated and ruled each one. Why I could not tell then,
but later on the secret was revealed, and I even caught a
glimpse of it when, strolling through the grounds the next day,
I met Sister Teresa and had a quiet little chat.

" I was just looking for you, Miss Henrica ; we must now
think of lessons and school in earnest." Then followed a few
pointed questions, by which I now clearly see that, with shrewd
intuition, sister was gauging her wayward pupil both in charac-
ter and attainments, as she dropped a word of comfort.

" Why, my dear, your case isn't half as bad as you think ;
have had many a great deal worse ; with good-will and earnest
effort you'll come out — "

" What, sister, do you think there's a ghost of a chance for
me?"

" Certainly ; why not, dear ? "

"Oh! 'cause, haven't the real stuff to make a scholar; I'm
behind all the other girls ; know it'll be desperate hard work
just to keep my head above water."

"Not at all, my child; don't look at it that — "

"But, sister," I again interrupted, choking back a sob, "it's
only smart girls, and those way ahead of half-way scholars, that
the teachers look after."

" Possibly elsewhere, but not here, for it is specially those
with your very hindrances that receive our best care and atten-
tion ; the others will be sufficient for themselves. Indeed, some
of our most creditable pupils have come from the least promis-
ing ones ; and, mark my word, you'll be another."

" I'm afraid—"

*' Tut ! tut ! let me tell you our plan here. Every scholar,
whether rich or poor, bright or stupid, must stand on her own
feet — her merits, you know ; she is made to see that from the
first."

" But what if she hasn't any feet, as you say, to stand on,
sister?"

" Never fear ; we take the risk of all that. Many a poor
little timid chicken doesn't know she has them ; or better, hasn't

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 805

found out how to use them, so we have to show her, letting
her creep a little at first —

" Just as I shall, I suppose ; well, well, what next ? "

"What next? Why that you'll walk, then run; when the
only trouble will be to keep you from going too fast."

"I'll take my chances there; no fear for Henrica Benton
where studies come in "; and I laughed at the very thought.

" We shall see," was the quiet response, at the same time
seeming to read me through and through, as she looked ear
nestly through those large brown eyes, so expressive of the
varying emotions within ; later on they proved the bearers of
many silent little messages which I learned to know more
readily than if spoken. A few more turns in the cool, fresh
air, then the retiring-bell called us within, and I was conducted
to the room assigned for my use.

Some people there are who pass us with the mere greeting
of ordinary civility — as " ships in the night "; again, we meet
those crossing our threshold who abide with us but for a time,
returning only at intervals ; while others leap at once into our
hearts and lives, going no more out for ever.

Thus Sister Teresa had that evening, through a few earnest
words, walked into my life as no one had yet done. It was
all so simple and matter-of-fact. Almost without knowing it I
had laid open my aimless, fruitless life, with so little thought
beyond the passing moment, knowing little and caring less of
what powers or possibilities might be wrought from the nature
God had given me.

Not so the method of this marvellous woman with her grand
conception of life in its varied and infinite relations ; with
brain, heart, and soul so fully, harmoniously developed that
each became in its measure the counterpart of the others.
What power for good must ever be wrought from such a
source !

We well know that all human intercourse is but a series of
mutual reflections ; as they become stamped, then stereotyped
each upon each, making us mosaics more or less beautiful of
those with whom we come in contact, the character, the whole
man is inevitably formed. Thus we are what we are simply by
the impact of those surrounding us. Even a momentary influ-
ence can do the work of a life-time — or undo it as well. What,
then, if this power for good runs its beneficent course day
by day for years, as with Sister Teresa, into whose hands I had

806 CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

so providentially fallen ? I could not have escaped it if I
would, and would not if I could.

I saw that life in all its unselfish devotion, purity, and
sanctity ; yet seen not to be imitated merely, but woven,
absorbed into my own as far as my limited capacity could
receive it. Do not mistake ; the goodness of this religious was
not of that way-up-in-the-clouds sort unattainable only by the
full-fledged saint. Though consecrated soul, body, and entire
being to God, she was withal a thoroughly human being ; so
intensely human that she threw herself heart and mind into the
little world of humanity with which her own for years had
been so closely linked. I cannot recall anything wonderful that
she ever did; remarkable only in this — doing everything in just
the way she wished us to do it : her example the potent lever
moving at will those under her charge. Requiring prompt, ex-
act obedience and fidelity to truth even to the least degree ;
failing not herself, though it were only by a look or gesture ;
hence always faithful to her promises, whether of reward or
punishment, which, like gold, ever commanded their face value
to the last mill. Well did we know this — to our joy, and sor-
row as well, abiding the consequences. With all this was
united that gentle, gracious courtesy which marked her inter-
course, whether as teacher, friend, or sister ; to each one, from
first to last, the same considerate politeness was assured,
making her the most loyal of friends, in every way a womanly
woman, type and model of a religious through and through.

I see now, through the drifting decades of years, as I could
not then with my crude, unformed nature, how this influence
of Sister Teresa wrought its grand mission into ever-widening
channels ; that same magnetic power radiated forth from our
microcosm upon that broader world of life, of which the con-
vent academy was but the type. All those myriad influences
were but so many trails marking the path in which our
directress led the way for hundreds who would " rise up and call
her blessed."

But let us return to the little room where I had just said
a good-night to one who had already awakened my better
nature into action, feeble though the first impulses. A memor-
able time it proved, hinging my fate for time and eternity.
Simple and plain almost to severity was the cozy "den," as I
termed it : nothing wanting for convenience, but all else ignored,
save an exquisite picture of the Holy Family reproduced from

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 807

Murillo, and a delicately carved crucifix. Of these, however, I
then took little note ; my troubled soul was too full of
other things. Tired though I was, sleep would not come; busy
thoughts were there, hot and feverish at first, as I saw myself
the dupe of what seemed only a wicked plot.

Sense and my better nature soon knocked gently at the
door, peeped in, and at length found entrance. Then said I :

" Henrica Benton, your papa has indeed cornered you, and
a very close corner it is too. Here you are at the mercy of
those who know pretty well what they are about, or you
wouldn't have been left with them ; there's no escape, and no
excuse that you can plead will avail ; surely, not feeble health
for a stout, rosy-cheeked girl who turns the scales at one
hundred and forty pounds avoirdupois, or thereabouts, who
never had more than a passing ache or pain, knowing by ex-
perience nothing of doctors, pills, or powders."

These and similar thoughts came before me as tangible
facts, not to be set aside, but bravely met and bravely
shouldered. I had, then, only to settle down to solid work
and make, as they say, " a first-class job " out of what
threatened to be a terribly bad one.

" Aha ! I have it," shouting under my breath with delight ;
"I'll get even with papa. To be sure he's tricked me; but
why can't I turn the tables and checkmate him completely
and for ever ? That'll mean to work like the very mischief,
and come out leader of my class — when I know enough to go
into one. Behind all the others as I am, must pitch in all the
harder. One good thing, I'm a chip of the old block, and
have a good share of papa's spunk. I'll make it tell now or
never. Glad for once I'm a Benton. Best of all, the home
folks sha'n't know anything about this new move on the chess-
board until I've made it a sure thing, and come out A No. I ;
then won't they open their eyes and shake their heads, big and
little. Deary me ! wish 'twas morning, so I could begin ; can't
sleep. Say, I'll turn on the gas a little and run over the les-
sons Sister Teresa gave me ; yes, the books are here. That
other Sister Somebody — can't think of her name — told me,
after asking a few questions, that I'd take the preparatory
course at first — s'pose like little girls 'bout ten years old ; just
think of it, and I'm most sixteen ! Whew, scissors and tongs !
it's terrible I know, couldn't be much worse. But she said, too, I
might take a rapid review of these first lessons ; then try an
examination, giving me a good send-off if I passed. That's the

8o8 CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

very thing, and, Henrica Benton, you shall pass — now there! I'm
in for it, hot and heavy ; the ' extras ' will fit in somewhere

later on. Bless me, won't I be a busybody — and — and — but —
j »»

Poor, tired Henrica ! off in the land of dreams with those
she loved best, knowing little else till roused by the clang of a
big bell and a rap at the door.

" Time to rise, Miss Benton."

There I was, books scattered over bed and floor, gas burn-
ing, and daylight streaming through my little white-curtained
window. Calling back my scattered senses, lo ! the plans that
by night looked so brilliant and enticing, now staring me in the
face like terrible ogres, seemed to defy all the courage I could
muster — the more so when contrasted with my late free-and-
easy life. But the Benton spirit fairly roused was not to be
caught by the tempting whisper: "Not so fast, Henrica; Rome
wasn't built in a day."

With one bound I cleared the bed, made a hasty toilette,
put the room in some kind of order, meanwhile coaxing my-
self as best I could. " 'Twon't do to think much about these
troubles ; hard work is the only thing left you ; mustn't give
up for all Jerusalem and Jericho together." Then, answering
the call to breakfast, joined a small regiment of girls trooping
through the corridors.

Well, I've been here just three months to the second ;
though in one way it seems a good solid year, and not a very
easy one either. Think of it ; to rise every morning at six
o'clock, then hurry and drive like the mischief to get in study,
lessons, practice — for I keep up that much of my dear music —
recreation, and don't know what more. One thing sure : there's
no fooling about this business of education ; if you don't get it
here, you never will elsewhere ; it's downright, steady work the
whole year through.

But, bless me ! couldn't believe my ears this morning, as I
passed out of class, when the mistress of studies said, in that
nice little tone of hers :

" Miss Henrica, it gives me much pleasure to say that your
record for application to study and general progress is quite
satisfactory ; your examinations of last week were also very
creditable, entitling you to a promotion of two grades. If this
continues, our mother superior will gladly inform your worthy
parents ; you will, however, remain under Sister Teresa's

1896.] CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. 809

instruction for the remainder of the year " — at the same time
handing me a letter from those same " worthy parents."

All this was appreciated the more from the fact that such
compliments came but rarely and in limited measure ; indeed I
was nearly wild with joy at these three pieces of good fortune
— deportment approved, examinations a success, and, best of all,
a letter from home ! However I did not forget to thank the
sister and make my best double-courtesy — one of the accom-
plishments acquired since coming here — then rush up to my
room and dance a regular jig, just to let my spirits out, for
they were fairly boiling over. Then I fell to reading the let-
ter, which almost took my breath away, especially this part
from papa :

"... Now must tell you of our plans, that may surprise
you no less than when I left my Rica at the convent. Here's
the programme : Your mother and I off to Europe for a year
or more ; health and business the object. Tina to join you at
the academy, remaining while we are abroad. Fritz to stay
with Aunt Mena and Uncle Fred, who will occupy our house,
so there'll be a nest for my dear chicks during vacations.
May possible drop down on you before we leave, to say good-
by. All glad you are doing so well ; send best love. Be my
own brave girl. Look out for another trip to Europe ; only
waiting till your education-bill is filled out and endorsed by
your teachers — then good times for all the Bentons. . . ."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry over this letter, for
I was both glad and sorry ; on the whole concluded to do
neither, but wait patiently the arrival of Tina.

Within a week my parents came and went, leaving my
sister to share the fate awaiting us, which proved all that
could be desired, and far more than we had dared to hope.
Having made such a success of the first venture, and being fairly
in the harness, I had not the face to give up the ship ; verily,
almost without knowing it, had "burned my ships behind me."

However, it was still the influence of Sister Teresa, doing
its blessed work always and everywhere. My heart grew warm
and glad with our daily intercourse. How could it be other-
wise ? since her deep religious life became the soul and inspira-
tion of whatever she said or did — the keynote in which each
day was set, making her " the moulder, teacher, and refiner of
others," the highest type of true womanhood. The secret no-
bility of every soul in contact with her own would readily ac-
cord this tribute.

8 io CHECKMATED EACH OTHER. [Sept.,

It was then an* ever-new surprise to me that this religion,
so false and superstitious — for I was not then of the faith, or
of any in fact — could so brighten and beautify one's life ; here
indeed was a revelation ! But I must be sure — watch, wait, and
weigh; and so I did, leading me to the goal of life's purpose
and its haven of ineffable peace and rest.

The more I knew of Sister Teresa's rare gifts and graces
the more did I wonder why they should have been buried
within a convent. Was it not hiding her talent in a napkin ?
No, no ; far from it. Richly had she been dowered by God,
but, as with every creature thus favored, only that the gift
might be returned with a hundred-fold increase, when the
dawn of a higher life should first break upon her waiting, long-
ing sight. Neither can time, place, or circumstances in any de-
gree belittle such a consecration while bearing the stamp : For
God and Humanity !

This sister led me to feel that, through self-conquest having
once acted nobly, I was bound henceforth never to act other-
wise ; still more, that the secret of her magic power over all
hearts was in having gained so noble a victory over her own.
Nor in this regard does Sister Teresa stand alone, but rather
as one of many, the representative of thousands more through-
out the world animated by the same noble aims and endeavors.

Often during those months and years of tiresome drudgery
the thought alone of giving her displeasure, or of failing, cost
what it might, to become another Sister Teresa, though but an
abridged edition, checked some wild frolic in the bud, leading
to better resolves, and at last to the point at which I had
aimed — rank second to none in conduct and scholarship. Best
of all, that same blessed influence has, through God's gracious
mercy, been closely linked with my life in the larger school of
the world.

At last, having completed the course marked out for me
at the convent, the first greeting from papa on returning home
was the welcome : " Well, Rica, I tricked you terribly that day
we started for Aunt Jennie's in Bismarck, but you have check-
mated me out and out. Then the only move I can make by
way of retaliation on our home chess-board is, a three years'
trip through Europe with all the family. Plans are made,
everything is ready ; we leave next week ; so be on hand."

" O papa ! how good you are — "

" Never mind, Rica ; you deserve that, and more too f "

i896.]

AT DEATH.

811

AT DEATH.

BY GEORGE HARRISON CONRARD.

AINT fluttering spirit, struggling to be free,
I hear its wings against the prison bars
Beat audibly. Lo ! the thin curtain lowers,
And by the rays let in the soul can see
The bounds of Time merge in Eternity,
And patient watch keeps through the long night hours.
O weary pinions ! longing for the stars,
In yonder ether soon your home shall be.
Plume thou thy wings, sweet spirit ! Frail the chain
That binds thee prisoned. Ah, the hand were vain

That strove to hold thee in so poor abode
When freedom waits thee in Elysium's light.
Sweet Christ ! the chain bursts ! the swift wings take flight !
Go, gentle spirit, forth to meet thy God !

812 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID-? [Sept.,

ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ?

BY REV. CHARLES J. POWERS.

HE theological difficulties against the acceptance
of Anglican orders as valid turn upon the in-
tention, the matter and form of the sacrament,
and incidentally upon the subject of the rite.
These difficulties may be considered as particu-
or general in so far, namely, as they affect Archbishop
Parker, the source of orders in the English Church, or the An-
glican hierarchical system, viewed as a whole.

We will first direct our attention to the difficulties arising
from Parker's consecration. It is evident that in his case every-
thing essential to conveying holy orders should have been done.
The validity of his consecration ought to be beyond doubt.
But even granting that Barlow may have been a bishop, and
accepting the fact of the ceremony at Lambeth chapel, is it es-
tablished that what was done on that occasion was sufficient to
make a bishop ? This question was brought up juridically very
early in the controversy, through the Bonner case.

In 1563 the deprived bishop of London was a prisoner in
the Marshalsea, and as he was a clergyman he was summoned
to take the oath of supremacy. In his defence against the
proceedings taken to punish him for his refusal to take the oath
he gave, among other reasons, this : that the person who offered
the oath was not a bishop, and hence had no legal right to
administer it. This " person " was Bishop Home, who had been
consecrated by Parker and confirmed in the See of Winchester.
Bishop Bonner entered his plea by the advice of Plowden,
the celebrated lawyer. After a long discussion in Sergeants'
Inn, the judges were unanimous in agreeing that Bonner had
a right to an inquiry before a jury as to the matter of fact,
the burden of proof being thrown upon Home to show that
he was a bishop in the eye of the law at the time when he of-
fered the oath.

On the admission of this plea being sustained the prosecution
was dropped, a thing not at all likely to have happened had
there been a hope of success. Unfortunately, we do not know
the grounds of the bishop's plea. The issue would, no doubt,
have been made on legal technicalities, but incidentally the

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 813

theological difficulties would also probably have been presented
during the discussion. The unwillingness of the government to
proceed to trial argues for the weakness of their case, and the
fact remains that a question of fact was raised and was not met.

Putting aside, therefore, for the moment the consideration of
the value of the form given in King Edward's ordinal, let us
examine what was done by Barlow and his assistants in conse-
crating Parker. The illegality of the whole proceeding seems
plainly manifest, and is, indeed, so certainly so that an effort
to establish the contrary can only end in absolutely hopeless
failure. On the Anglican theory of jurisdiction Parker's con-
secration is indefensible, because it was not given by bishops
who were "provincial," as the law required. Moreover, the
ordinal of King Edward was not at that time a legal form, for
Queen Mary had provided for the repeal of the act of Edward
imposing its use upon the clergy. Hence Lord Burleigh wrote
upon the paper containing the directions for the consecration,
and in which mention is made of the ordinal, "this book is
not established by Parliament." But besides these irregularities
which show the legal aspect of the case, but are of secondary
importance from the present stand-point, there are grave rea-
sons for fearing defect of intention both in consecrator and
consecrated, as well as in the matter and form of the sacrament.

The account of the ceremony informs us that the conse-
crators of Parker, placing their hands on his head, admonished
him in this manner : " Remember that thou stir up the grace
of God, which is in thee by imposition of hands ; for God hath
not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and love and of
soberness." Even the full form of King Edward's ritual was
not used because, as savoring too much of Popery, " it seems
not to have harmonized perfectly with the notions which Bar-
low and his coadjutors had acquired from their foreign mas-
ters." But could this monition make a bishop ? " It bore,"
writes Dr. Lingard, " no immediate connection with the epis-
copal character. It designated none of the peculiar duties in-
cumbent on a bishop. It was as fit a form of ordination for
a parish clerk as of the spiritual ruler of a diocese."

But did these men really intend to make a bishop in the
true sense of the word ? Had they the will to give the sacra-
ment of order?

It is necessary and sufficient on the part of the adult subject
of holy order, who must, of course, be baptized for the valid-
ity of the rite, that he have the will to receive the sacrament,
VOL. LXIII. — 52

814 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? [Sept.,

and on the part of the minister that he have the purpose to
bestow it. What was the purpose of the ceremony at Lambeth
chapel ? To form an estimate we must get at the mind of
those who took part in it. What did these men believe con-
cerning holy order ?

Faith and probity do not in themselves affect the validity
of the sacrament of holy order, and hence the lack of either or
both does not vitiate consecration. Were it contrariwise the
discussion of Anglican orders were long since at an end. For,
as far as concerns the probity of the English reformers, Lee and
Littledale, themselves English churchmen, have said more than
enough to cover them with eternal confusion, and we shall pre-
sently see what was the character of their doctrine. But knowl-
edge of the belief and character of those who figured in the
overthrow of Catholicity in England will help us towards a
conclusion as to the nature of the purpose of the rite held on
that eventful December Sunday morning.

The early reformers — and indeed the whole English school
of theologians immediately following the Reformation — refused
to recognize in priest or bishop the power of offering sacrifice
and of forgiving sin. They rejected entirely the Catholic belief
concerning the priesthood as a corruption of primitive faith.
The sacerdotal ministry was not, in their view, a divine institu-
tion. Had those who ordained and who were ordained during
this period the intention respectively of doing what the church
does, and receiving what the church gives, supposing that all
the other necessary elements were present for the imparting
and reception of the sacraments, there would be now less room
for doubt. But could they have intended to impart and receive
powers which they not only did not believe they possessed,
but, moreover, declared they did not intend to give or to receive?

Burnet, in his Records, informs us that " in the question of
orders Barlow agreed exactly with Cranmer," and he might have
said with even greater truth that the pupil went further than
his master in his acceptance of Geneva theology. Cranmer, we
know, was notoriously Calvinistic in doctrine. He regarded
bishop and .priest as holding an office entirely unsacrificial.
According to his theory, appointment by the civil power was
sufficient in the minister of religion. To his own question
"whether in the New Testament be required any consecration
of bishop and priest, or only appointing to this office is suffi-
cient ?" he answered that "he that is appointed to be a bishop
or a priest needeth no consecration by the Scripture." There

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 815

was no true priesthood because there was no sacrifice, for he
denied the real presence of Christ under the sacred species.

In conformity with these views he devised King Edward's
prayer-book. The history of the commission that brought forth
that book is well known. Cranmer was the leading spirit,
and his effort was to accommodate the form of worship of
the English Church to the doctrine of the new teachers with-
out giving too much offence to the adherents of the ancient
faith. What he did not dare do openly he hoped to do stealth-
ily, namely, to thoroughly Protestantize the Anglican Church.
We may well believe that had he put into effect all that he
wished, the prayer-book would have been more satisfactory to
himself and to his disciples. For we know that, radical as it
was in its departure from the Catholic ritual, it was not suffici-
ently so for Barlow and his coadjutors, who omitted part of what
was prescribed therein on the occasion of Parker's consecration.

And the doctrine of Cranmer and Barlow was understood
and accepted and taught by the Anglican fathers and divines.
Of this there is abundant evidence.

Bishop Jewel, in the Zurich letters, says : " As to your ex-
pressing hopes that our bishops will be consecrated without
any superstitious and offensive ceremonies, . . . you are not
mistaken, for the sink would indeed have been emptied to no
purpose if we had suffered the dregs to settle at the bottom."

Archbishop Whitgift, in one of his theological dissertations
commenting on the words of the ordinal for the consecration
of bishops, writes : " The bishop by speaking these words doth
not take upon him to give the Holy Ghost, no more than he
doth to remit sins when he promises remission of sins." And
elsewhere he says : " It appeareth not wherever our Saviour did
ordain the ministry of the gospel to be a sacrament."

Richard Hooker, a contemporary of Whitgift and a doctor
of the highest authority among the Anglicans, in his celebrated
work Ecclesiastical Polity thus addresses himself to the Puritans :
" You complain that we consecrate bishops and priests, and
that so we appear to have affinity with the old anti-Christian
religion. Be consoled ; our bishops are but superintendents and
our priests elders. Altars and sacrifices, as you know, they
have none ; and after all, what is consecration, or whatever you
like to call it, but admission to a state of life ? You complain,
again, that in ordaining them we say, ' Receive the Holy Ghost ;
whose sins thou dost forgive they are forgiven ' ; and these
words seem to countenance one of the worst errors of Popery.

8i6 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? [Sept.,

But remember that they are the words of Christ himself, and
therefore cannot be in themselves ungodly and superstitious. He
thus addressed his Apostles, and yet they had no power to for-
give sins such as the Papists claim. True it is that for centuries
they have been superstitiously applied ; but the abuse does not
take away the use, and now, by not shrinking from them in
spite of their apparent harmony with the old errors, we rescue
them from anti-Christ and vindicate their primitive and Pro-
testant signification."

To add further evidence from the writers of the period is
unnecessary. What has been given is sufficiently indicative of
the tone of thought and of the belief which prevailed.

The very Articles of religion — albeit, like the woman of the
Gospel, they have suffered many things at the hands of physi-
cians— are to this day sick of a Calvinistic malady contracted
in the school of Cranmer.

Such was the faith of Cranmer and Barlow and Parker.
Such the faith of Anglican fathers and theologians. The creed,
the ritual, the theology of the English Church illustrate one
another, and are witnesses against the claim for Anglican orders.
Knowing the belief and practice of Cranmer and his associates
and followers, we cannot escape the conviction that there was
a lack of intention in the consecration of Parker, the source of
Anglican orders, and that we have reason to fear the same defect
in the consecrations that succeeded his for a long time. Thus
doubt presents itself on every side. Take what view we will, we
cannot find that certainty which a matter of such weight as the
validity of the orders of a whole church demands, and upon which
so much depends for the salvation and sanctification of souls.

Nor can the more general and speculative question, whether
the English Church could have had a true hierarchical system
of apostolic origin, given through the rites of ordination and
consecration in the prayer-book, be answered favorably, even
had he who was the source of Anglican orders continued in
himself the apostolic succession.

Here, again, doubt confronts us and will not down, as we
shall see in the discussion of the part of the subject upon
which we are about to enter.

Because Christ was God, he could impart to visible and ma-
terial things the power of producing invisible and spiritual
effects. And it is of divine and Catholic faith that he was
pleased to exercise his power in instituting the sacraments,
which are external signs of interior grace.

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 817

With regard to each of the seven sacraments we can dis-
tinguish the material thing which has been elevated by the
divine power to a work beyond its nature, or what is called
the matter and also the form, or the words by which the matter
is applied.

It is certain, according to the theologians, that Christ
specifically determined the matter and the form of baptism and
Holy Eucharist. And with regard to the other sacraments, the
more probable opinion affirms that the matter was specifically
determined by him, as well as the substance of the form. The
opinion, however, that Christ instituted in general the matter
and form of each of the sacraments, except baptism and Holy
Eucharist, and left with his church the power of specifically
determining these, and even of changing them for a just cause,
has been held to be not without some probability.

The reason for this latter view was based upon the diversity
of the Greek and Latin churches concerning holy orders. As
a consequence of this diversity the theologians, in discussing
the elements for the sacrament of the priesthood, have found
difficulty in concluding what is absolutely essential for valid
ordination. The result has been that they affirm what con-
stitutes the matter and the form of the sacrament without
which there certainly can be no sacrament, and also what be-
longs to its integrity and without which more or less practical
doubt is present as to validity.

No one, Greek or Anglican, who believes that Order is a
sacrament can reasonably doubt that the rite used in the
Roman Church for centuries contains all that is requisite for
validity. To deny this would be to deny the sacrificing and
forgiving power in priests of the Roman Church. And even
those who hold that the visible church is more extensive than
the Roman communion must at least recognize in bishops of
that communion the inherent powers of perpetuating the
hierarchy.

The Roman Pontifical contains those rites which are per-
formed by bishops ; among the rest that of ordination of
priests.

The principal acts in this rite are the following :

(1) Before the gospel of the Mass the ordaining bishop and
all the priests present, of whom there should be at least three,
lay both hands on the head of each of the candidates succes-
sively without uttering any words.

(2) The bishop and the priests hold their hands extended

8i8 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? [Sept.,

while the bishop prays as follows : " Dearest brethren, let us
ask God the Father Almighty to multiply his heavenly gifts
upon these his servants whom he has elected to the office of
the priesthood, that by his assistance they may obtain what
he has deigned they should undertake. Through Christ our
Lord. Amen."

(3) He clothes each of the candidates with the sacrificial
vestments and anoints the hands of each.

(4) He gives each a chalice with wine and water, and a
paten with bread, saying : " Receive power to offer sacrifice to
God and to celebrate Masses both for the living and the dead.
In the name of the Lord. Amen."

(5) The candidates say the Canon of the Mass with the
bishop, and consecrate the species with him.

(6) After the Communion the bishop again lays his hands
on each and says : " Receive the Holy Ghost ; whose sins thou
shalt forgive, they are forgiven them ; whose sins thou shalt
retain, they are retained."

This rite has been used for centuries in the Roman Church.
The question arises as to the part of the ceremony which con-
fers the character of the priesthood.

On this point three principal opinions have been advanced
by theologians : The first places the essential act in the second
imposition of hands, namely, when the bishop extends his
hands over the head of the subject of the sacrament and says
the prayer, " Dearest brethren, let us ask God," etc. Accord-
ing to the second opinion, the handing the instruments for the
sacrifice and the accompanying form is the necessary and suffi-
cient act for ordination. The third requires both the imposition
of hands and the tradition of the instruments.

It is certain that the ordination has taken place before the
time of the consecration in the Mass, for no one who was not
a priest would be permitted to use the sacred words with the
bishop. In the rubrics of the Pontifical, moreover, after the
handing of the instruments onward to the end, the word
"ordinati" is used instead of "ordinandi " as before, from
which it is evident that the laying on of hands the last time,
and the form giving the power to forgive sins, express what
has already been done.

It might, therefore, appear that the tradition of the instru-
ments was the essential matter, or at least a part of it. And
such a conclusion would at first sight be confirmed by the in-
struction of Pope Eugenius IV. to the Armenians. But this

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 819

ceremony has not always been everywhere requisite. It was
introduced in the ninth century, and even to-day is confined to
the West. Yet the Roman Church recognizes the validity of
the Greek rite of ordination, in which there is no tradition of
instruments.

The great scholastics who maintained the necessity in the
Western Church for the tradition of the instruments, either
alone or following the imposition of hands and prayer by the
bishop, met the difficulty arising from the Eastern practice by
the theory mentioned above as to the determining power of the
church concerning the matter and form of the sacraments. But
the tendency of the more modern theologians has been to
regard the imposition of hands alone as the essential matter.

The omission, however, either of the imposition of hands
and the prayer, or the handing the vessels and materials used
in the sacrifice, would render ordination doubtful, if not null,
and require a new ceremony to insure validity. What consti-
tutes, therefore, the essential matter and form of the priesthood
cannot be asserted so positively as to leave no reason for
question. And hence practically the safer side must always be
taken in case of defects in what pertains to the probable validity.

To the supreme authority in the church belongs the right
and the duty of setting at rest any doubt that may arise in a
particular case. But decisions emanating from the Holy See
in settling special difficulties are not always of universal appli-
cation. For instance, the decree of the Holy Office affirming
the validity of the Abyssinian ordination to the priesthood by
the imposition of hands and the form " Receive the Holy
Ghost " referred, as the Congregation has declared, exclusively
to the case in point, and hence cannot properly be applied to
any other issue similar in some but not all respects.

For it is very evident that an external similarity of matter
and form in an heretical sect with those used by the true
church would not in itself prove the presence of the sacrament of
order. For even if the very words of the Catholic ritual were
applied to the proper matter, the sacrament would be null if
the form were employed in a depraved sense. Hence it follows
that Anglican orders are invalid if there is a defect of form
arising from a depraved use of the sacramental words. " He
who corrupts the sacramental words in altering them, if he
does this purposely, does not appear to intend that which the
church does, and thus the sacrament does not appear to be
perfected," says St. Thomas.

82o ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? ' [Sept.,

It is our conviction that we cannot escape from the con-
clusion that in the beginning of Anglicanism, and for a long
time afterwards, the words of the English ordinal were applied
in a corrupted sense, and the evidence as to the doctrine of the
reformers given above goes to prove this assertion.

Whatever may be the faith and practice of the Ritualist
party in the English Church of to-day, whatever the views of
the Tractarians, whatever the theology of Archbishop Laud and
his school, we must not forget the long decades that passed
when no such doctrines had a place in the public teaching of
the Church of England, but, on the contrary, the very opposite
of this teaching prevailed. What High-churchman is there who
has not keenly felt the difficulty of reconciling his own belief
with the Articles — the creed of Anglicanism — and with the his-
tory of the communion in which he has found himself? How
many have been forced step by step to the unwilling confes-
sion, that the Establishment is after all a Protestant sect, not
a branch of the true church ?

We cannot but sympathize with the efforts to bring the
English Church into conformity with the Apostolical, but the
facts will not warrant our admitting that its tenets as a religious
body give evidence of a belief in a sacerdotal ministry of divine
institution. And so we cannot accept the orders of Anglicans
as valid were there no greater obstacle in the way than the use
of the form in a depraved sense. But beyond this there is the
further difficulty that the ancient matter and form have been
vitiated by the commission who devised King Edward's ordinal.

The essential matter to validity in conferring the sacrament
of the priesthood consists, probably, in the officiating bishop
with the assisting priests laying their hands upon the head of
the candidate for priest's orders and holding them extended,
and the form has been given above. A comparison of the
form in King Edward's ordinal with what has just been given
from the Roman Pontifical will show what is lacking. The
bishop and assisting clergymen lay their hands on the head of
each candidate, and the bishop says : " Receive the Holy Ghost.
Whose sins thou dost forgive, they are forgiven ; and whose
sins thou dost retain, they are retained. And be thou a faith-
ful dispenser of the word of God and of his holy sacraments.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost. Amen." To this form convocation in 1661, more than
one hundred years after the issue of the ordinal, added these
words after the invocation of the Holy Ghost, " for the office

1896.] ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID? 821

and work of a priest in the church of God, now committed un-
to thee by the imposition of hands."

Even accepting the opinion which requires the least for
validity, does not the Anglican rite in comparison show its
insufficiency ? A sacrament is a sign of grace. Its matter
and form ought to be indicative of what is bestowed. What
appears in the Anglican form that at all indicates the sacrificial
power, the chief office of a priest ? And as for the forgiving
power, we have seen that these words of form were used in a
depraved sense and not as a sign of a grace imparting an office.

In like manner the matter and form of the episcopacy were
•corrupted by the compilers of the English ordinal.

The matter for the consecration of a bishop in the Catho-
lic Church consists of several things, namely, the placing of the
book of the gospels upon the shoulders and neck of the bishop
elect, the anointing his head, the imposition of the hands of
the consecrator and his assistants, and the bestowal of the pas-
toral staff and ring. The form is found in the words " Receive
the Holy Ghost," and in the prayers and the preface by which
the purpose of giving of the Holy Spirit is indicated, namely,
for the office and peculiar duties of a bishop.

The Anglican rite in King Edward's ritual consists in the
consecrator and assistant bishops laying hands on the head of
the elect and saying, " Receive the Holy Ghost. . . . And
remember that thou stir up the grace of God which is given
thee by this imposition of our hands ; for God hath not given
us the spirit of fear, but of power and love and soberness."
The consecrator also puts into the hands of the elect a copy
of the Bible with the exhortation : " Give heed unto reading,
exhortation, and doctrine, etc." To the form after the invo-
cation of the Holy Spirit were added by convocation, as in the
rite for the priesthood, the words " for the office and work of
a bishop in the church of God, now committed unto thee by
the imposition of our hands. In the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Again we find vagueness, indefiniteness, a failure in the sign
to indicate the power of the grace bestowed. For a long time
— namely, from 1549 until 1661 — even the general purpose of the
invocation was not manifested in either the form for the priest-
hood or for the episcopacy. The effort to remedy that defect
by the insertion ordered by convocation has confessedly come
rather late — too late indeed to be of any real service in undoing
what Cranmer's commission did so well, namely, the vitiating
of the ancient forms.

822 ARE ANGLICAN ORDERS VALID ? [Sept.,

That that was their purpose, there can be no doubt. That
the ulterior motive in giving even the garbled matter and form
presented in the ordinal was to prepare the way for even more
radical changes, is also clear.

The protests against the innovations were loud and many on
the part of the bishops who still adhered to the ancient faith,
but were silenced by prosecution and imprisonment. The re-
formers walked with their eyes open, and the road they took
led towards Geneva, the haven of their desires.

Now, when centuries have passed, during which the church
that was "the dowry of Mary" has been despoiled of Catho-
licity, robbed of the true faith and of true orders, we find many
of the noblest and most sincere of Englishmen repudiating these
ruthless thieves, denouncing their iniquity, and seeking to re-
store to England what these robbers pillaged. The work of
the Cranmers, the Barlows, and the Parkers is viewed with
malediction. The faith they sought to drive for ever beyond the
seas once more has found a home in England. "A wonderful
movement of divine grace," writes Cardinal Vaughan, " has
been going on among the English people for many years. This
movement is not unmixed with much that is erroneous, illogi-
cal, and audacious. But it has been out of the movement that
the greatest conversions to the Catholic Church have taken
place ; for instance, Cardinals Manning and Newman, and thou-
sands of others. At the present moment the movement has
spread very widely, so that multitudes of the most educated
and zealous Anglican clergy and laity are teaching the whole
cycle of Catholic doctrine, so that there remains nothing but the
keystone, the office andjplace of St. Peter, to complete the arch."

Would that we could say to this multitude of earnest men
and women : You have the true faith ; you have the true
priesthood. But truth will not permit us until the keystone
has been fitted into the arch, and Rome has restored what
Geneva destroyed — the apostolic succession in the English
Church. But not in vain may we hope that the English nation,
resembling the ancient Roman in so many respects, will, like
its prototype, find its greatest glory and most enduring fame
in having embraced with renewed ardor the faith that St.
Augustine brought from Rome at the command of St. Gregory,
the successor of St. Peter, for whom Christ prayed that his
faith should not fail.

1896.] SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. 823

THE SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD,

CLOVIS.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

. N celebrating the conversion of the Prankish mon-
arch, Clovis, to Christianity the French Catholics
celebrate an event which laid the foundation of
a new order in Europe. The Franks were bar-
barians, and even after they had embraced Chris-
tianity they continued to be barbarians in their behavior
where their interests or their passions were concerned. Yet
under this outer husk of savagery they cherished the germs of
some virtues which helped to plant the faith firmly in France,
while establishing the truth of some startling paradoxes in hu-
man nature. In the Merovingian age, side by side with the
most atrocious crimes, we find deeds of the most exalted devo-
tion, unbounded enthusiasm for the promotion of religion and
the spiritual life, and the most shocking defiance of the princi-
ples of Christianity, in the same epoch and in the same fami-
lies. Hence the most sagacious and experienced of historical
analysts have found it impossible to formulate a rational theory
of the Merovingian character, save that of the uncontrollable
force of impulse and alternating emotions in a people only a
couple of generations removed from the state of nature in the
nomadic life amid the German forests.

BREAK-DOWN OF THE WESTERN COLONIAL SYSTEM.

A mind's-eye picture of the state of Europe at the period
when these conquering savages came on the theatre would be
too comprehensive for the clearest ken. It was not chaos ; it
was rather the breaking-up of order, with the hideous accom-
paniments of fire, slaughter, and rapine, on a colossal scale.
Several distinct hordes of barbarians had poured into Gaul, at
various periods from the death of Vespasian down to the fall
of the Western Empire with the death of Odoacer, A. D. 476.
Of these the Franks proved the most formidable. They were
one of two powerful races of Teutonic barbarians who held be-
tween them the right bank of the Rhine. When the Roman
legions were withdrawn from Gaul the Franks easily made

824 SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. [Sept.,

themselves masters of the great cities ; for, long deprived of
arms by the Roman governors, the miserable Gallic people had
neither the weapons, the discipline, nor the courage to defend
themselves. They accepted the tall warriors from the Rhine as
their protectors in place of the Roman cohorts ; nor did the
change involve any great moral loss. Sensuality the most ap-
palling had been the characteristic of the Roman system in pri-
vate life ; corruption the most shameless that of the public ad-
ministration. Steeped though they were in pagan savagery, the
strangers from the Rhine preserved some traces of the better
idea in man. Their code of family honor was strict ; they
caused the sanctity, of the marriage tie to be respected by the
severity of the penalties exacted for any violation of the un-
written social law. In this respect at least the Franks and Ala-
manni were vastly superior to the Roman rulers of Western
Europe.

The foundation of the Prankish kingdom took place peace-
ably, therefore, and, it may be said, naturally. What the Franks
had acquired they proved themselves well able to defend. To
successive invasions of Alans, Avars, and Visigoths they pre-
sented a formidable breastwork on the river-front of France.

A FIELD OF SLAUGHTER.

In the year 451 the terrible Attila, whom the Gauls styled
" the flail of God," led his devastating Huns into the fertile
plains of Champagne. The last of the Roman generals in the
province, the skilful Aetius, joined his forces with the Franks,
and .barred the way of Attila on the Catalaunian plains (now
Chalons). Under their king, Merovius, the Franks attacked the
rear-guard of the Huns on the first day of the battle, and killed
fifteen thousand, to their own account. In the second day's
fighting the united forces of Franks and Romans left 165,000
Huns dead on the field, according to the Gothic historian, Jor-
nandes. The glory of that great day secured the Merovingian
power in France. It had saved all Gaul from certain ruin,
for it was the boast of Attila that not a stone upon a stone
was left in a single city he had taken, and his monuments
were pyramids of human skulls.

But the overthrow of the Huns did not preserve Gaul from
internal foes only a shade less destructive. When Clovis was
elevated as warrior-king on the bucklers of his Franks, three
decades after that event, anarchy was sweeping the whole
country as a deluge. It was, as an old historian remarks, a con-

1896.] SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. 825

stant coming and going of armies, and between them the peo-
ple were ground to powder. There were eight distinct ruling
powers in Gaul — the Franks, the Visigoths, the Burgundians,
the Alamanni, the Saxons, the Bretons of Armorica, the Belgae,
and the remnant of the Roman power, under a general named
Syagrius. Of these the Franks were the most powerful, both
by reason of their military prestige and the elements of order-
ly life which they had already developed in their public ad-
ministration. Their religion, for the most part, was that of the
Scandinavian mythology ; the joys of the Valhalla awaited the
warrior who fell with his face to the foe ; but a glimmering of
Christianity had penetrated their fierce cult and already begun
to soften their berserker fury. It has been set down to their
credit that even in their pagan state, when Christian cities fell
into their hands, they destroyed not a single church. Their
frequent intercourse with Rome made them familiar with the
tenets and practice of Christianity. One of their great chiefs,
the Comes Arbogastus, sovereign of Treves in A. D. 470, is said
to have been a Christian, and two daughters of Childeric, the
father of Clovis — the princesses Lautechild and Audefleda — had
embraced the Arian theory of Christianity. But the mode in
which the spiritual side of the monarch's character was touched
by the wand of grace is sui generis.

CLOVIS MAKES A CONDITIONAL VOW.

The king was in need of an ally. He was in sore straits
of battle with the Alamanni, one day, at Tolbiac, near the
Vosges. The hammer of Thor had ceased to strike on his
side, the prospect of drinking the honey and wine of victorious
warriors from the skulls of his enemies was vanishing. At this
terrible moment, when his crown was trembling in the balance,
Clovis bethought him of his wife, Clotilde, and her Christian
faith. She was the daughter of Chilperic, king of the Burgun-
dians, who was, like the rest of his family, tainted with the
Arian heresy. Clotilde, happily, escaped the contagion, by
some unexplained means — probably by the domestic upheaval
caused by the murder of her father by his savage brother,
Gundebald — a tragedy which may have laid the foundation of
the story on which Shakspere built up his enigmatical play of
" Hamlet." Clotilde's sanctity was so great as to merit the dis-
tinction of canonization in after years, and she had been baptized
in the Catholic faith. Her life was a practical exemplification
of the holiness of that faith — full of charity and noble deeds.

826 SALIC FRAA^KS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. [Sept

THE Vow OF CLOVIS. (From Blanc's celebrated Painting.)

1896.] SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. 827

Clovis saw that she implicitly believed in the power of the
Triune God, to whom she prayed so frequently and fervently,
and, moved by an irresistible desire, he threw himself on his
knees and besought the same help in his need. Then, inspired
by a new hope, he rallied his broken squadrons, flung himself
again into the thick of the fight, and by his daring infused fresh
courage into his army. The Alamanni were routed, and Clovis,
who had vowed to become a Christian if he survived the con-
flict, hastened to redeem his pledge. He placed himself in the
hands of Vedastus of Toul and St. Remigius of Rheims, and on
Christmas Day, A. D. 496, he received Christian baptism. Three
thousand of his knights and nobles, and a great multitude of
Prankish ladies, followed this illustrious example on the spot.
Hence the veneration with which the French people, down to
this day, regard the great festival of Christianity. Noel is with
them the sweetest time of all the year, fraught with the most
precious associations, marking the birth of France to a new
life, and her rescue from the night of barbarism and provincial
degradation.

FAULTS AND VIRTUES OF THE NEW CONVERTS.

It has been said that the conversion of these stalwart bar-
barians was only a make-believe affair — that despite their
veneer of Christianity they continued to be savages in mind and
deed. Too much color, unhappily, is afforded for this view in
the conduct of many of the men and women of the Merovin-
gian line. The general life of Clovis himself, after his con-
version, was shocking. He displayed a ferocity, combined with
a treachery, in dealing with neighboring chiefs that has no
parallel save in Indian warfare, and his sensuality, like that of
the other Merovingians, was such as to suggest the simile of
the centaur in describing such slaves of brutish passion. The
feminine element of this strong race was sometimes as savage
and degraded as the masculine. It would be impossible to find
a more shameless life than that of Queen Fredegund, or a more
savage and licentious one in later life than that of Queen
Brunehault. It was the daughters-in-law of the latter princess
who, when they at last succeeded in getting her into their
power, flung her to their soldiers as common prey for three
whole days, and then tied her naked to the tail of a wild horse
to be dragged to death. The records of the race are filled
with stories of nuns who broke their vows and filled the church
with shocking scandals, of princes whose hands were stained

828 SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. [Sept.,

with the blood of brothers and kinsmen, and whose incurable
habit of polygamy was vainly denounced by the saintly and
heroic Columbanus and other servants of God. Yet side
by side with these atrocious characteristics we find deeds of
noble devotion to God and immense service to the spread of
Christianity, and saints like Clotilde and Fredegonde, whose
purity and piety caused them to struggle for virginal sanctity
as strenuously as any of those early martyrs who chose death
rather than life with dishonor and denial of Christ. There is
no more glorious figure in all the ranks of beautiful sainthood
than that of Fredegonde — the first? queen who laid her crown
at the gate of the cloister — and she was a Frank of the
Merovingian time. That period witnessed the rise of many
splendid cathedrals and monasteries in France, and the almost
complete absorption of the kingdom into the fold of Christ.
Hence, despite its glaring diversities of conduct and its inex-
plicable fluctuations in moral progress, it is regarded as the
most interesting epoch in post-Latin civilization.

FINE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL TRAITS OF THE FRANK COLONY.

It would be unjust to the Franks to . attribute the pheno-
menal wickedness which at times they exhibited to any inherent
abnormal vice. On the contrary, when they came into Gaul
they were a people possessed of many virtues of a natural
kind. They were brave, honest, and truthful. They abhorred
the life of the city and loved that of the field and the forest.
War and the chase were their favorite pastimes ; their domestic
life was pure and happy.

Their political system was excellent. Every man was free
and the equal of the king in the eye of the law ; and the king
was elected by popular .vote, which could depose him, if he
overstepped his power, as well, and sometimes did. It was
the contact of such pristine virtues as these with the horrible
corruption and debauchery of the Romano-Gallic society which
produced the extraordinary effects upon the Frankish character
which historians have had to chronicle. The debasement of
manhood induced by the refined licentiousness introduced by
the Romans was in keeping with the corruption in public affairs
which their system of taxation and public expenditure en-
couraged and perpetuated. It was inevitable that a simple
people, finding themselves surrounded by such conditions, should
in time succumb at least partially to the pernicious influences
which pervaded the very atmosphere, so to speak, and per-

1896.] SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. 829

meated all conditions and ranks in society. The wonder, rather,
is, that the Franks should in the end emerge from such an
ordeal so creditably as they did. It is acknowledged that they
rendered signal service in the work of civilization by turning
the minds of the people away from the towns and encouraging
them to look to the cultivation of the fields and the venery of the
forest as the means of spending a manly and useful life. They
delayed the introduction of the feudal system, then beginning
to rear its head in many other lands, for at least a couple
of centuries ; and though they often presented anything but
edifying examples of Christianity, they were munificent givers

THE VICTORIOUS RETURN OF CLOVIS. (From Blanc's celebrated Painting.}

to the church. Above all, they stood as a solid rampart
against the menacing flood of Arianism, which at one time
seemed to threaten the existence of the pure faith in every
land in which the gospel had been preached. It is, then, some-
what too sweeping an assertion of Mr. Allies, in his summing
up of the Merovingian epoch, in his Formation of Christianity,
to say that in embracing Christianity the race of Clovis had
not given up a single pagan vice nor adopted a single Christian
virtue.

THE IRISH MONK AND ROYAL WICKEDNESS.

We cannot withdraw our eyes from this rude period of transi-
tion without pausing to survey the wonderful part which the
early Irish monks played in it. A glorious figure, amid all the
VOL. LXIII. — 53

830 SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. [Sept.,

ruin, crime, and savagery of the period, is that of the great
Celtic saint, Columbanus. He played a role somewhat akin to
that of a lion-tamer amid the wild tribe who, after Clevis's
death, fought over his inheritance. With a large retinue of
monks from Ireland he had founded a noble seat of piety at
Luxeuil, where the Burgundian and Prankish nobles came in
troops, bringing their boys with them to have them taught
Christian lore. His outspoken denunciations of the licentious
Merovingians soon involved him in trouble, but " the great Irish
missionary," says Mr. Allies, "in the pre-eminence of his daunt-
less courage, shrunk from no contest with the centaurs who
ruled divided Gaul." He was expelled from his monastery by
Queen Brunehault and her ferocious son, Thierry, because he
indignantly stigmatized the shameless mother's encouragement
of her son's illicit amours for her own selfish ends. But he
soon found an asylum with the Lombards, whose king gave
him the ground whereon he erected the far-famed monastery of
Bobbio. Brunehault not long afterward paid the penalty of her
crimes in the revolting manner before described, and Thierry
and his progeny met the usual fate of the Merovingian line.

WHAT THE IRISH MISSIONARIES DID FOR CIVILIZATION.

Many other saints of Irish birth took part in the work of
civilizing the chaotic Roman provinces — St. Gall, St. Fursey,
St. Fiacre, with a host of monks of lesser note. These men
came in swarms from the Irish monasteries, impelled by the
true Christian spirit — that of the missionary and the martyr.
Their work in the new movement was threefold. They levelled
the forest and reclaimed the desert, at the cost of the most
frightful labor ; they brought the light of letters and philosophy
to the seats of ignorance and barbarism ; and they won mil-
lions of souls to God. Montalembert, who devotes many elo-
quent chapters of his noble work, The Monks of the West, to
this theme, says of the foundation of Luxeuil :

" The barbarian invasions, and especially that of Attila, had
reduced the Roman towns into ashes, and annihilated all agri-
culture and population. The forest and the wild beasts had
taken possession of that solitude which it was reserved for the
disciples of Columbanus and Benedict to transform into fields
and pastures. Disciples collected abundantly round the Irish
colonizer. He could soon count several hundreds of them in
the three monasteries which he had built in succession, and
which he himself governed. The noble Franks and Burgundians,
overawed by the sight of these great creations of work and

1896.] SALIC FRANKS AND THEIR WAR-LORD, CLOVIS. 831

prayer, brought their sons to him, lavished gifts upon him, and
often came to ask him to cut their long hair, the sign of no-
bility and freedom, and admit them into the ranks of his army.
Labor and prayer attained here, under the strong arm of Col-
umbanus, to proportions up to that time unheard-of. . . .
It is at the cost of this excessive and perpetual labor that the
half of our own country and of ungrateful Europe has been
restored to cultivation and life."

TOLBIAC THE TURNING POINT.

, So to the miracle at Tolbiac — if miracle it was — we may
trace the beginnings of our modern civilization, of which the
French people, with all their shortcomings, are still the fore-
most representatives. The conversion of Clovis made pos-
sible the coming of Columbanus and the triumph of the Celtic
mind over the strong materialism of the Teuton. From the
first few feeble links forged in the valleys of the Jura and the
Vosges the chain of love and sanctity has grown until it now
encircles all the great globe, and binds it in loving fetters in-
dissolubly to the throne of God.

The same fruitful stream which irrigated the soil of France
and Italy has poured itself out upon these wider shores, and
the hands of the same race have spread the seed of God's
faith and charity over all the land. So that we, too, have our
share in the Clovis celebration, in our claim upon the blood
of Columbanus, Gall, and Fursaeus ; and we rejoice with France
in the grace which was vouchsafed the land when Clovis bent
the knee before the real Lord of Hosts and burnt his idols
of the Valhalla.

MRS. OLIPHANT'S standing in the literary world
entitles her to attention when she gives us her
views on the Jeanne d'Arc episode.* She is a
lady who has not been found scoffing at sacred
things, and does not come before us with such a
claim as a circus clown might have to play the part of Hamlet.
Her pen has been always bright and clean, and she views
literature as a noble vehicle, not as a garbage-cart. Yet, as a
Scotchwoman and a Protestant, she cannot approach such a
subject in the spirit in which its marvellous elements require
to be considered. To the hard Calvinism of the Scottish mind
any belief in the supernatural in religion, save in the absolute-
ly abstract, is mere superstition. Mrs. Oliphant shows her
inability to fully understand her theme, and her strange want
of information on facts patent to everybody, when she speaks
of Jeanne's proposed canonization. This she regarded, when
she wrote the book, as doubtful ; and adds the surprising sur-
mise : " Perhaps these honors are out of date in our time."
Even the average well-read Protestant ought to know that many
canonizations have taken place in recent years. Nor is it cor-
rect to define, as she does, canonization as simply the highest
honor that can be paid to a holy and spotless name. It is
rather the declaration of a fact, ascertained after the most
rigid and searching inquiry — the perfect sanctity of a de-
parted human soul, and its consequent worthiness to be hon-
ored and venerated as a fitting instrument and agency of the
divine will.

To minimize, if possible, the part which the English authori-
ties in France had in the revolting murder of Jeanne appears
to be the great end in view in Mrs. Oliphant's book. For this
purpose she lays much stress on the failure of the French
king and the knights whom Jeanne so often led to battle to
attempt her rescue. We need only say in answer to this, that
France was still largely in English hands, and the rescue of

* Jeanne d'Arc : Her Life and Death. By Mrs. Oliphant. New York : G. P. Putnam's-
Sons.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 833

Jeanne could not be accomplished without a campaign, before
whose termination she would probably have met her fate.
It may not have entered into the minds of the French that
the English, to whom the Maid was nothing more than a pris-
oner of war, taken like any ordinary prisoner in battle by one
of their allies, would have dreamed of so departing from inter-
national military usage as to put her to death. But Mrs. Oli-
phant ought to know the people whom she strives to whitewash
a little somewhat better. She might recall how they treated her
own compatriot, Wallace, and the unhappy Queen Mary ; how
they tortured Archbishops Hurley and Plunket ; how in Jamaica,
only thirty years ago, their uniformed officers flogged women with
piano-wire. There is no brutality of which the human mind is
capable that English officials will not perpetrate when weak
people oppose their rule. Do they not even pursue them with
their vengeance into the next world, as in the case of the mu-
tineers whom they blew from the mouths of their cannon at
Delhi, in order that body and soul might never reunite, as
necessary for happiness in the Hindoo belief, in the world to
come ? The representatives of English power in France re-
garded Jeanne as a rebel against their authority, and if she had
never set up any supernatural claim herself, the fact that she
had beaten such renowned warriors as Talbot and his captains
would have afforded sufficient ground to set up a theory of witch-
craft and send her to the stake, for such was their determination.
As a literary performance and a chronicle Mrs. Oliphant's
work sustains her reputation. A certain unevenness in tone,
however, is perceptible in it, and at times her attempts at ex-
planation of Jeanne's springs of action appear contradictory.
She labors throughout under the insurmountable difficulty of
her self-imposed task. She is dealing with a subject too high
for the inevitable limitations of her mind and training. Hence
her work can hardly be entirely satisfactory to author or audi-
ence. Some very fine plates are scattered throughout the work.
The book is put forth in good, rich style by the publishers.

Much pathos and power in simple construction are shown
by Gilbert Guest in a short story called Meg* It is a sketch of
Irish fisher-life, written without much knowledge of the real
conditions in such a sphere. While some mistakes arise from
this disadvantage, the delineation of the hot-headed but noble-
hearted young sea-maiden, Meg, is by no means far-fetched or
unreal. True piety and noble self-sacrifice are often found

* Meg : The Story of an Ignorant Little Fisher Girl. By Gilbert Guest. Omaha, Neb.:
Western Chronicle Company.

834 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

blended, as in the case of this little heroine, with an almost
ungovernable temper and a waywardness in fancy. Her pro-
fanity is, however, rather strongly depicted, and her dialectic
powers at times are made to show strangely above her training
and opportunities. A little actual knowledge of the real con-
ditions of life on the Irish sea-board, as to the life-boat ser-
vice, the revenue regulations, and minor matters, would have
helped to give the story more present-day vraisemblance.

The latest addition to the Summer and Winter School
Library, now being produced in such neat, substantial, and yet
handy shape by D. J. McBride & Co., of Chicago, is the
Rev. Morgan M. Sheedy's discussion of the Social and Labor
Problems.* It is evident that Father Sheedy has made an ex-
haustive study of the position of affairs with regard to the two
greatest problems of our age, and he endeavors to lay down
the principles on which alone a true settlement of the diffi-
culties constantly arising can be arrived at. The pernicious
tendencies of the State Socialism advocated by the false pro-
phets of the atheistic school are clearly pointed out in the
course of his argument. The reverend author is, however, some-
what too prophetic with regard to the probable consequences
of an acceptance of the principle of land nationalization.
There is nothing more dangerous than the assurance of certainty
as to consequences following economic departures. It is more
beneficial to turn to those portions of Father Sheedy's argu-
ment in which he shows what the Catholics of Germany" and
France are doing to find a practical solution for the countless
evils which the conflict between capital and labor, and the
pressure of human misery, are ever creating. The clergy and
laity of the Catholic Church have in those countries taken
their coats off to the work, so to speak, and built up a system
of splendid local machinery for the settlement of labor prob-
lems and the elevation of the hitherto neglected toiler. They
leave politics and economical theories to take care of them-
selves ; they recognize that humanity and its needs are the
practical side of religion. It is eminently desirable that such
splendid example should be widely known, more especially in
this country, where the practices of capitalism have pushed mat-
ters to a very delicate and risky position for the public vreal.

Those who cannot readily comprehend the peculiar life of
the Catholic Church regard the many spiritual movements which

* Social Problems. By Rev. Morgan M. Sheedy. Chicago : D. J. McBride & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 835

spring up around her as something akin to an over-ornamenta-
tion, a superfluity of spiritual embellishments, an obscuring of
the early grace and simplicity of the majestic design. This is
the impression of thoughtlessness. Every age has its own spe-
cial needs, and these outward symptoms of the sympathy of
the church with those needs only prove how beautifully adaptable
is her sustaining principle to every changing phase of the world's
developments. The laying out of fresh avenues of grace, as new
regions of spiritual labor are being opened up, is a process go-
ing on as incessantly as the silent and invisible workings of
physical nature in the inner life of the universe. Amongst the
most recent outgrowths of this law of activity the Order of Our
Lady of the Cenacle claims earnest attention. Its purpose is
the preparation of the devout mind to imitate the spiritual and
corporeal example of our Blessed Lady in her retreat. She la-
bored while shut up with the holy women in the cenacle, and
she accompanied this laboring by instruction in sanctity and
by prayer and encouragement in apostolic work. The labor was
not merely industrial occupation for hand and brain ; it was
the labor of preparation for the great combat with the world.
The cultivation of this spiritual blossom of the material seed is
the object of the Order of Our Lady of the Cenacle. A
sketch of the origin and rise of this institution has been pre-
pared by the Rev. Father Felix, S.J. The work * is intended
more as an exposition of the object and methods of the
order than a chronicle, and we have no doubt it will be accept-
ed gratefully by many of those whose mental and spiritual ener-
gies long for such an outlet and need only such a finger-post
to point the way. This book bears the approbation of the
Archbishop of Paris, Cardinal Guibert ; and the translation
has been made by Miss Deak. The local habitat of the order
in New York City is at St. Regis' House, West One Hundred
and Fortieth Street.

We have received from Mr. John T. Reily, of Martinsburg,
West Va., a quartette of volumes f which may be regarded as
the nucleus of a good Catholic library in themselves. Two of
these volumes are weighty works, in more than a figurative
sense, as each contains over a thousand pages printed on extra
thick paper and enclosed in strong covers. Three of the vol-

* Notre Dame du Cenacle : Our Lady of the Cenacle ; or of the Retreat. By the Rev.
Father Felix, S.J. New York : Lafayette Press, 141 East Twenty-fifth Street.

^Recollections in the Life of Cardinal Gibbons, Passing Events in the Life of Cardinal
Gibbons, Collections in the Life of Cardinal Gibbons. Third Book. By John T. Reily.
Martinsburg, West Va. : Herald Print.

836 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

umes relate to the life and times of Cardinal Gibbons, the
fourth is occupied with the history of the Catholic mission in
Conewago Valley. These books are a mine of wealth for the
seeker after materials for a grand historical edifice. They are
a perfect emporium, not remarkable for scientific arrangement,
but where the seeker after any certain fact of Catholic inter-
est, within the scope of the title, is pretty sure to find it if he
have only the patience to look for it under the general head-
ings of the Index.

Mr. Reily makes no pretence of being a historian. But he
can certainly lay claim to being an industrious collector. Huge
blocks of history thrown together Pelasgian fashion make up
this great fabric of Catholic chronicle. Almost every event
that marked the sixty years of church development which his
collection embraces finds a record here. It is not alone the
masterful pronouncements of the cardinal on all the vital
topics of our day that make it valuable ; those of Cardinal
Satolli, Archbishop Ireland, Bishop Spalding, and other illus-
trious exponents of Catholic thought, find a place there as
well. A succinct history of the absorbing Cahensly controversy
is also given ; the part played by Catholicism at the Columbus
Exposition is amply shown. There is a copious biography of
foremost American Catholics, clerical and lay ; many interesting
sketches of Catholic history, from the beginning of American
civilization down to the present day, are likewise embraced in
these inexhaustible pages. Nor is there such a lack of ori-
ginal matter as the publisher's apology would seem to indicate.
We find in the work a valuable dissertation upon Catholic litera-
ture and Catholic writers, embracing the whole period of the
budding and maturity of that comprehensive body of literature.

A considerable number of plates are scattered through the
various works. In many cases these would have been better
omitted. The groups of photographs embodied in the volume
on Conewago are the most valuable of the lot.

Although many text-books on philosophy have been written,
the incessant activity of the human mind necessitates the
writing of new ones. Truth is the* same in all ages, yet the
changing conditions of the world constantly demand its appli-
cation to new conditions as they arise. The scientific advance
of the age brings in its train new problems for the thoughtful,
so that the task of applying the tests of philosophic truth in
the field of material investigation every day becomes more

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 837

difficult and bewildering. The mind must be carefully prepared
for this intellectual exercise, if the struggle with the phenomena
of life and nature is to be manfully maintained and not sur-
rendered with a weak cry of helplessness. It is of the utmost
importance that our text-books on philosophy should be fit for
this purpose of training the mind and tempering the steel for
the inevitable conflict. An excellent work for this purpose, for
secular students, is one just issued by Rev. Wm. Poland of St.
Louis University, under the title, The Truth of Thought* It
possesses the merits of extreme fitness of statement, absence of
redundancy and irrelevancy, and freedom from any kind of
theological animus. It confines itself strictly to the four
corners of its brief — a disquisition in the field of human reason
on the problems of life and the facts of our material existence.
The narrowness of the principle upon which the whole vast
philosophical structure, embracing the entire material and
metaphysical universe, rests is plainly perceptible to the
author. It is simply the chasm between the subject and the
object, and he finds no difficulty in convicting Kant, Hume,
Descartes, Herbert Spencer, and all that school of sceptics of
ridiculous self-contradiction in accepting a grand a priori with
regard to self-perception and denying the power of reason out-
side self. Such pseudo-philosophers must, as the author
happily points out, be convicted of the absurd attempt to
reconcile the affirmation of a principle with the denial of
that same principle in the same breath. The absence of all
dogmatism in this work is another fact which recommends it.
Every proposition it puts forward is methodically and soberly
argued out, to the ultimate reduction of philosophy to its first
principles, the recognition of the power of the ego to think
and to accept evidence of the truth or non-truth regarding
what is outside itself but within its ken.

An excellent psalter has been issued by the Apostleship of
Prayer for the purposes of the devotion to the Sacred Heart.
The League Hymnal, as it is entitled, is a work most admirably
adapted for its sacred purpose. The various hymns associated
with the devotion are given, together with the most approved
musical setting, and the special prayers composed with the
same object are set forth at the end. The choral music and
formulae are also appended. All has been compiled and

* The Truth of Thought ; or, Material Logic. By William Poland, Professor of
Rational Philosophy in St. Louis University. New York, Boston, Chicago : Silver, Burdett
&Co.

838 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,.

arranged by the Rev. William H. Walsh, S.J. Splendid paper
and admirably legible musical printing render the book exter-
nally most serviceable for its purpose.

Prayers for the People, by the Rev. Francis David Byrne, is
the title of a little devotional work that cannot fail to be
popular. It is neatly printed and solidly bound. The devotions
it embraces are the chief ones in Catholic worship. It can be
had from the firm of Benziger Brothers.

I. — CORNELIUS A LAPIDE ON ST. PAUL'S EPISTLES.*

St. Paul's Epistles to the Corinthians are among the most val-
uable possessions of the church, as doctrinal and disciplinary
foundations. Full, explicit, and unambiguous as is the declara-
tion of faith they contain, the condition of things which called
them forth, and some passages in their carefully arranged con-
tents, even in early days were considered to require some key or
commentary. This was furnished in the ample work of Cornelius
a Lapide, whose Commentary on the Sacred Scriptures has satis-
fied the need so fully that it has been universally conceded to
deserve the appellation "great." We are indebted to the Rev.
W. F. Cobbe, D.D., for a translation of the chapters on the First
Epistle to the Corinthians.

Corinth was a centre of much interest in the Apostle's days.
It was a place of wealth because of its rich copper-mines, and
it was a place of learning, albeit it was a place of luxury and
licentiousness because of its wealth. Some of the most eminent
of the old Greek philosophers and statesmen had their resi-
dence there, and it presented so advantageous a condition for
the spread of the Gospel that St. Paul had decided to go there
at a very early period of his apostolic career. Furthermore, he
went there by divine direction, imparted in a vision encourag-
ing him to the enterprise. He made many converts, but after
his departure considerable controversy arose in the inchoate
church. The confusion and difficulty were aggravated by the
coming of Apollos, so much that parties of Paulites and Apol-
lonites sprang up, to the great scandal of the church, and to
the extent of the beginnings of a schism. To wean the Corin-
thians from the sins of pride and self-seeking, and bring them to
the humility of the Cross, was the great end and aim for which

* The Great Commentary of Cornelius a Lapide. I. Corinthians. Translated and edited
by W. F. Cobbe, D.D. London : John Hodges.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 839

these great expositions of doctrine and Christian logic were
composed.

The very outset of this First Epistle is a plea for unity and
a statement in effect of the universality of the church under
the headship of Christ. It is addressed " Unto the Church of
God which is at Corinth, to them that are sanctified in Christ
Jesus, called to be saints." He earnestly enjoins the Corin-
thians not to be Christians of Paul or of Apollos, but to be of
Christ, and all of one mind and one speech on the things of
their faith. On this mandate adverse critics have founded excep-
tions to the classification of the orders of the Catholic Church
as Thomists, Franciscans, and so forth ; but the great com-
mentator points out how different this is from the original in-
tention of the censure. On the other hand he shows how apt
it is in the case of sectaries who describe themselves as " of
Calvin," " of Luther," and other schools of heterodoxy.

The passages relating to the sacrament of matrimony and
the laws of morality are extremely full and minute ; and in
the original much matter appears which the translator has found
it imperative to condense. Everything that has been deemed
necessary to retain the clearness of the original text has, we
may take it, been carefully preserved.

Much space is devoted to analyzing St. Paul's dicta with
regard to the Blessed Eucharist. Non-Catholic divines, who
often rely much upon the Pauline teaching as justifying their
separation from the body of the Catholic Church, can find
it no easy task to reconcile the explicit declaration of the great
Apostle of the Gentiles with the legacy of fantastic evasions of
the cardinal doctrine of Christianity to which they still so ob-
stinately cling.

It is but justice to the publisher and printer to say that
this most critical work, demanding for its force and relevancy
the nicest adherence to grammatical and typographical accuracy
in different languages, has been faultlessly produced, so far as
a somewhat imperfect and hasty examination has enabled us to
discover.

2. — THE CHURCH IN THE APOSTOLIC AGE.*

In addition to the popular Life of Christ published recently
by the Abb£ H. Lesetre, of the clergy of Paris, the same
author now presents a work on the Apostolic Church. It is

* Holy Church in the Apostolic Age. By the Abbi H. Lesetre. Paris : P. Letheilleux.

840 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

prefaced by a letter from the famous Sulpician Abb£ Vigour-
oux, who is not sparing in his praise. He says that the story
of the gospels and the early church can never be better told
than in the words inspired by the Holy Spirit himself, and
with justice he commends the use made by the Abb6 Lesetre
of the sacred text. " Your work has been achieved," he adds,
" with rare good fortune. God has imparted to you the gifts of
facility and clearness ; your exposition is limpid, within the
reach of all ; your plan is simple and logical ; your doctrine
sound and irreproachable." This is a just criticism and comes
near being an adequate description of the work.

The author has happily adopted a new plane of treatment
for a field which the talent of the Abb6 Fouard has so
magnificently illuminated. The three works of the Abb6
Fouard corresponding to the two of the Abb6 Lesetre are
more imposing in scholarship, more replete with detail, more
elegant with literary embellishment, but it is safe to predict that
the Abbe Lesetre will command at least as large an audience.

His history of the Apostolic Church falls into three divisions.
The first follows the plan of the Life of our Lord, being noth-
ing more than a remarkably skilful arrangement of the sacred
text so as to furnish a consecutive narrative. He has found it
necessary to interpose historical data and explanations of the
inspired word only here and there. Of these the former are
quite as admirable for their brevity as for the wide learning
they display ; the latter are neat recapitulations which will bring
their lessons home to the simplest minds.

In the second part the same method is applied to the
epistles of St. Paul and the Catholic epistles, interspersed with
more extensive historical control of their contents gathered
from uninspired sources. Three chapters of the third part are
devoted to the epistles, Apocalypse, and last years of St. John.
The Epistle of St. Clement and the letter to Diognetus,
together with several shorter documents, receive similar treat-
ment, so that a very clear idea of the literary remains of the
first century is afforded. Finally, chapters on Persecution and
Heresy, the Conquests of the Church, the Organization of the
Church, Dogma and Morals, the Sacraments, and Christian
Worship combine to place clearly and succinctly before the
average reader a comprehensive review of early Christianity
such as the scholar must devote years of research and analysis
to obtain from original authorities. These chapters, which are
by no means above the general excellence of the book, must

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 841

still remain its most useful feature, since thereby Catholics at
large are well equipped with the most approved modern ammu-
nition for defence of the faith. The activity of Protestant
scholarship has forced upon the church a realization of the keen
avidity with which historical aspects of Catholicity are being
discussed by those who ought to be Catholics. No more
powerful appeal can be made to them to-day than the appeal
to history, and very especially the history of the first three
centuries. For ordinary uses the Abb£ Lesetre's compendium
is a thesaurus ; for further study it is a capital hand-book.

Brevity, indeed, trenches uncomfortably upon reticence at
times. One would prefer a more distinct inquiry into the
proofs of St. Peter's presence in Rome, or that the sacrament
of Holy Orders had been given a more certain footing, as
could easily have been done if the author had the exigences of
non-Catholic missions in view. Perhaps he had not, but the
last chapter, which compares the church of the first century
with the church of to-day, is a masterly argument whose effect
upon the right audience could not lightly be withstood. Abbe
Lesetre's work is needed in America. Here is a harvest for
which it is a sharpened scythe. Let us hope that it will re-
ceive speedy translation and worthy publication.

3. — FATHER TALBOT SMITH'S " OUR SEMINARIES."

Father Talbot Smith is one of our best writers, hitherto in
the realm of fiction ; and we would be glad to see a complete
and neat edition of his works. In the present work he has un-
dertaken to handle a very serious and important subject.

It is written in an excellent spirit, and evidently with the
best intentions ; and it is entitled to the careful consideration
of all those who are engaged in the direction of seminaries, or
competent to give advice in the matter. It is a very sugges-
tive book, proposing many questions for investigation and dis-
cussion. Some of its suggestions are manifestly most wise
and practical. No one can doubt, for instance, the great im-
portance of the most careful provision for the diet and exer-
cise of the young men, for the sake of their physical health
and vigor.

Again, we must fully endorse all that he says of the disad-
vantage of multiplying small, one-company posts, to borrow an
illustration from Father Smith's favorite term of comparison,
the army. Some seem to think that the Council of Trent has

842 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

made it obligatory on each bishop to have a diocesan seminary.
We think, however, that this is too narrow an interpretation of
the canon. What the council had in view was, not to prescribe
diocesan seminaries in opposition to provincial or general semi-
naries, but ecclesiastical seminaries under episcopal control, in
opposition to universities, frequented by all classes of students,
as places for clerical education. Common sense dictates that
the law requiring bishops to establish seminaries should be in-
terpreted to mean that every bishop should provide for his
young candidates an ecclesiastical college where they could re-
ceive a proper training. Many metropolitan and other principal
churches were of great dimensions. Milan, Naples, Florence,
Paris, Cologne, Vienna, Munich, and similar sees would natur-
ally have their own diocesan seminaries. But the smaller and
poorer dioceses would only be able to have small and poor
seminaries, and would find it much to their advantage to send
their students to some centre of learning in the metropolis of
the province, or some other principal town, the seat of an im-
portant bishopric capable of sustaining a well-appointed semi-
nary. In fact, the decree of the council expressly ordains
that bishops who cannot maintain separately their diocesan
seminaries shall unite in founding a common seminary.

It is evident that a conclusive argument against multiplying
small seminaries is derived from the impossibility of furnishing
a sufficient number of competent professors. The Holy See
gives the example to be followed by opening colleges in Rome
to which students are invited and encouraged to resort from
all the nations of the world.

In addition to the older institutions, several new seminaries
on a grand scale have been recently founded, at St. Paul,
Rochester, and New York, and one in San Francisco is approach-
ing completion. It is to be hoped that the conductors of our
seminaries and colleges will make whatever improvement is neces-
sary in the curriculum of studies, and that St. Paul's College
at the Washington University will go on prosperously in the
great work of higher theological education it has so auspicious-
ly begun.

4. — THE CHURCH AND THE AGE.*

Cardinal Newman wrote of Father Hecker shortly after his

* The Church and the Age : An Exposition of the Catholic Church in view of the Needs
and Aspirations of the Present Age. By Very Rev. I. T. Hecker, of the Congregation of St.
Paul. Tenth thousand. New York : The Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West 6oth Street.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 843

death, in a letter to Father Hewit, these words: "I have ever
felt that there was a sort of unity in our lives — that we both
had begun a work of the same kind, he in America and I in
England. It is not many months since I received a vigorous
and striking proof of it in the book he sent me " (The Church
and the Age).

In this book Father Hecker gives his reasons for believing
that there is coming a notable spiritual awakening, that in the
religious life of the American people this awakening will be
strikingly manifested, and that the Catholic Church will have
no small part in it, not only in fostering it, but particularly in
reaping the fruit of it. The fullest exposition of these great
life-thoughts is found in this volume.

The original essay received many warm commendatory appro-
bations from dignitaries high in authority at Rome, and from the
late distinguished Jesuit, Pere Ramiere. The first edition of
the book received a very full and favorable review, endorsing
all its principles, from the English Jesuit magazine, The Month.

Intelligence and liberty are not a hindrance but a help to
religious life ; only false religion has reason to fear the spread
of enlightenment and the enjoyment of our free civil institu-
tions ; while intellectual development and civil liberty have ac-
celerated more than anything else the decay of Protestantism,
they are calculated more than any other human environments
'to advance at the present time the progress of true supernatu-
ral life among men.

The main purpose of this volume is to show that the liber-
ty enjoyed in modern society, in so far as it is true, and
the intelligence of modern society in so far as it is guileless, are
inestimable helps to the spread of Catholicity and the deepen-
ing of that interior spirit which is the best result of true re-
ligion.

The office of divine external authority in religious affairs, in
providing a safeguard to the individual soul and assisting it to
a freer and more instinctive co-operation with the Holy Spirit's
interior inspirations, is often treated of in this book ; and the
false liberty of pride and error is plainly pointed out.

STREET-PREACHING has begun in earnest in Eng-
land under the most approved auspices. Father
John Vaughan, a brother of the Cardinal-Arch-
bishop of Westminster, has the matter in hand and is already
meeting with a certain measure of success. His method is to
secure professional Catholic laymen, who have an attractive
presence and are good talkers, and on Sunday afternoon gather
a crowd of listeners in some of the open parks and address the
crowd on vital topics of religious interest. The report of the
work indicates that the addresses have been received with un-
common interest ; certain classes have been reached who would
not have been reached otherwise ; and the truths of religion
have been brought home to many estranged from church organ-
izations. This particular work is awaiting some apostle to take
it up in this country and make it succeed.

The British House of Lords appears to exist for the pur-
pose of exhibiting the anomaly of the hereditary principle in a
constitutional system. It is incessantly asserting its feebleness
in blocking or rejecting measures sent up from the House of
Commons, and then surrendering without a murmur when sternly
told by the Prime Minister to yield or be prepared for the
consequences of contumacy. Just now it is affording the Brit-
ish public one of those periodically recurring exhibitions of
mock heroism followed by abject retreat. The one measure of
importance which the government has been enabled to get
through the House of Commons was the Irish Land Bill. It
is a measure intended to give a very slight instalment of jus-
tice to the long-suffering tenant-farmers ; but slight as the relief
was it required the utmost pressure from the government to
induce the landlord interest represented in the ranks of its
supporters to allow it to pass the gauntlet in the lower House
without fatal injury. But the House of Lords allowed their
selfishness as landlords to get the better of their party loyalty
as well as their common sense. They immediately proceeded,
when the bill came up, to mangle it in such a way as to make

1896.] EDITORIAL NOTES. 845

it utterly useless for the purpose of the government in bring-
ing it in — the relief from an intolerable situation. As the vast
majority of the peers are Tories and Unionists, this revolt aston-
ished even those who always found some excuse for their oppo-
sition to liberal measures. But the Lords raised such a storm
that in order to save themselves they accepted without further
ado the same measure when it came up from the Commons, a
few days afterwards, with the original features restored. Peo-
ple have long been asking, What is the use of a House of
Lords? To furnish the comedy of political life in England,
appears to be the obvious answer.

The Temperance Movement in this country is on the up-
ward and onward trend. Its progress, as measured by the re-
port made to the Annual Convention assembled at St. Louis, is
quite notable. It has added unto itself 120 societies, with a
membership of 5,761, during the past year. This, along with
previous years' records, makes an addition in three years of 312
societies, and 18,382 of a new membership.

The total membership of this powerful organization now is
895 societies, with a membership of 75,350. This is the organ-
ized body, but by no means is the influence of the total-absti-
nence sentiment confined to the organized ranks. Undoubtedly
the tide of Catholic temperance sentiment is growing higher
and higher. It has made its influence felt in the steady break-
ing away of rooted habits and the constant effort towards
better homes, cleaner living, and higher citizenship.

With the next issue we begin the sixty-fourth volume of
THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE. Our literary plans for the
next year embrace several series of articles on the greater re-
ligious and social problems of our time. Mr. Henry Austin
Adams begins a set of papers, touching in his pleasant, spark-
ling way on the present religious situation. Social topics, such
as the housing of the people, the scientific preparation of food,
the relative cost of living in the great cities of the world,
and kindred subjects, will be discussed by expert writers. The
attitude of the church towards the social movement will form
the theme for further articles. The policy of the Holy Father
toward the American Nunciature, the Cause of Labor, Chris-
tian Unity, and other leading questions, will be carefully pre-
sented ; and the progress of the Education struggle in Great
Britain and Canada will also be attentively followed.
VOL. LXIII.— 54

846 WHA T THE THIXKERS SA y. [Sept.,

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

THE MEANING OF THE ENCYCLICAL.

(From the Tablet.)

IF the Holy See were wily and worldly and crooked in its ways, as its ene-
mies at times are wont to assure us, different indeed would have been its speech
and action on occasions like the present, as a glance at the position may suffice to
show. Knowing that any movement which makes for Reunion must, by the very
necessity of the case, turn Homewards, Leo XIII. might easily have contented
himself with allowing the ideas of Reunion to work their way, and have trusted
to the results or ultimate tendencies, which might be not the less real from pro-
ceeding upon a false or illusionary basis. He might have led Reunionists on,
dangling as a bait before their eyes the hope of possible compromise, or of one or
other of those small ecclesiastical mercies which some men have agreed to mag-
nify into " informal communion." Or, without committing himself to any doctrinal
statement, he might have studiously used the language of platonic generalities,
dwelling unctuously on points of concord, and adopting the cheap policy of burk-
ing the points of disagreement. He might even have sought to generate an at-
mosphere and have betaken himself to the vocabulary of intercommunion com-
pliments. Or — if it is not irreverent to think so — he might have stooped to the
still lower depth of the deliberate use of nebulous speech — of phrases designedly
chosen as sufficiently loose and vague to cover both a Catholic and an Anglican
meaning, adaptable at will by each class of readers — in a word, to those childish
devices by which men are led to play at believing they are one, because the an-
tagonisms of sense are hidden in the sameness of sound. Or, more easily still,
by a policy of masterly inactivity the Pope might have given no answer at all,
and have waited for the movement to bear its fruit, and in the meantime have left
it to irresponsible Catholics on one side, and to irresponsible Anglicans on the
other, to make such amiable and harmlessly informal overtures as their discretion or
indiscretion might have suggested. There is hardly one of these methods which
would not have found advocates, at least amongst minds of a certain stamp. The
world which reads the Papal Encyclical to-day will do Leo XIII. the justice to
recognize that he has condescended to use none of them. From the chair of
Peter he has given to mankind the example of the charity and dignity of aposto-
lic honesty. He was conscious that in the world around him souls were asking
the vital question on what terms they might hope for Reunion with Rome. In
discharge of his duty of teacher to these souls he has neither waited nor dallied,
nor evaded. Nor has he minced his answer. He has spoken, and so plainly, so
clearly, so fully, so frankly, that there is not a man in Christendom to-day that is
not in full possession of his meaning. Men may agree or disagree with what the
Sovereign Pontiff has said — as they did with the words of his Master — but as
to what he has said and as to what he has meant by saying it there can be as-
suredly no shadow of doubt or question.

1896.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 847

THE WORK OF JOHN B. GOUGH.

MAJOR POND contributes to the July Cosmopolitan a very interesting little
article on " Great Orators," from which we quote the following :

" Mr. Gough was a more popular lecturer for a longer term of years than any
favorite of the lyceums. He was a born orator of great dramatic power. Men of
culture, but less natural ability, used to be fond of attributing his success to the
supposed fact that he was an evangelical comedian, and that the ' unco guid,'
whose religious prejudices would not suffer them to go to the theatres, found a
substitute in listening to the comic stories and the dramatic delivery of Gough.
This theory does not suffice to explain the universal and long-continued populari-
ty of this great orator. He never faced an audience that he did not capture and
captivate, and not in the United States only, not in the North only, where his pop-
ularity never wavered, but in the South where Yankees were not in favor, and in
the Canadian provinces where they were disliked, and in every part of England,
Scotland, and Ireland as well. He delighted not only all the intelligent audiences
he addressed in these six nations — for during most of his career our North and
our South were at heart two nations, making, with Canada, three distinct
peoples on our continent, and the three distinct nationalities in the British
Islands — but he delighted all kinds and conditions of men. He was at his
best before an educated audience in an evangelical community ; but when
he addressed a ' minion ' audience in North Street (the Five Points region
of Boston) he charmed the gamins and laboring-men who gathered there
as much as he fascinated the cultivated audiences in the Music-Hail. It is true
that he was richly endowed with dramatic powers, and if he had taken to the
stage he would have left a great name in the annals of the select upper circle of
the drama. But he preferred to save and instruct men rather than to amuse
them, and he devoted his life to the temperance movement and the lyceum. He
was a charming man personally, modest, unassuming, kind-hearted, and sincere,
always ready to help a struggling cause or a needy man. He was a zealous Chris-
tian, but never obtruded his peculiar belief offensively upon others. One had to
see him at his home to learn how deeply devoted to the Christian faith he was.
Mr. Gough never asked a fee in his life. He left his remunerations to the public
who employed him. These rose year after year, beginning with less than a dollar
at times, until, when the bureau did his business for him, they reached from two
hundred dollars, the lowest fee, to five hundred dollars a night. In the last years
of his life his annual income exceeded thirty thousand dollars. He did more to
promote the temperance cause than any man who ever lived, not excepting Father
Mathew, the great Irish apostle.

" It is strange, but it is a fact, that although Gough never broke down in his
life as an orator, and never failed to capture his audience, he always had^a mild
sort of stage-fright which never vanished until he began to speak. To get time
to master this fright was his reason for insisting upon being ' introduced ' to his
audiences before he spoke, and he so insisted even in New England, where the
absurd custom had been abandoned for years. While the chairman was introduc-
ing him Mr. Gough was ' bracing up ' to overcome his stage-fright. By the
way, let me say right here (as the phrase " bracing up " has two meanings), that
the slanderous statements often started against Mr. Gough, to the effect that he
sometimes took a drink in secret, were wholly and wickedly untrue. In his auto-
biography Mr. Gough has told the story of his fall, his conversion, and his one re-
lapse, and has told it truthfully. He was absolutely and always, after his first re-
lapse, a total-abstinence man in creed and life. There never lived a truer man."

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [Sept.,

A GEOLOGIST ON THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM.

(From the Literary Digest.)

PROFESSOR PRESTWICH, of England, and Sir J. William Dawson, of Canada,
have lately been presenting some new facts and theories concerning the Noachic
Deluge ; and now comes a German geologist, Dr. Max Blanckenhorn, of the Uni-
versity of Erlangen, with a similar instalment on " The Origin and History of the
Dead Sea," in an article of fifty-nine pages, in the Journal of the German Pales-
tine Society. In the article he gives the results of explorations undertaken at the
expense of that society. The Independent condenses what he has to say, toward
the close of his discussion, " upon questions of special interest to the lover of the
Word." We quote in part :

" The destruction of the oldest seats of civilization and culture in the Jordan
Valley and the Dead Sea districts, namely, that of the four cities of Sodom, Go-
morrah, Admah, and Zeboim, is one of the fixed facts of earliest tradition, and for
the critical geologist the phenomenon presents no difficulty, as far as it can be
traced at all. The tragedy was caused by a sudden break of the valley basin in
the southern part of the Dead Sea, resulting in the sinking of the soil, a pheno-
menon which, without any doubt, was an intimate connection with a catastrophe
in nature, or an earthquake accompanied by such sinking of the soil along one or
more rents in the earth, whereby these cities were destroyed or ' overturned,' so
that the Salt Sea now occupies their territory. The view that this sea did not ex-
ist at all before this catastrophe, or that the Jordan before this period flowed into
the Mediterranean Sea, contradicts throughout all geological and natural science
teachings concerning the formation of this whole region. . . .

" That the Pentapolis at one time was situated in the southern part of the
Dead Sea, which is now called Sebcha, is proved also, among oth^r things, by the
probable location at this place of Zoir, the place which escaped destruction in the
days of Lot ; in accordance, too, with the writers of antiquity and of the Middle
Ages, including the Arabian geographers. As yet nothing certain can be deter-
mined concerning the location of the four other cities, viz. : Sodom, Gomorrah,
Admah, and Zeboim, of which names only that of Sodom, in Djebel Usdum, is
found reflected in any place in these precincts. And, even apart from geological
and geographical reasons, this seems to be the natural thing, as the Book of
Genesis represents these places as having been thoroughly destroyed without
leaving trace or remnant behind. The fact that now these districts are a dreary
waste, and by the Arabian geographer Mukaddasi called a ' hill,' is no evidence
that in earlier times this was not different, and this valley not really a vision of
paradise."

SOLUTION OF THE RACE PROBLEM.

(A. S. Van de Graff in the Forum for May, 1896.)

IF the negroes were evenly distributed throughout the United States they
would constitute only about 12 per cent, of the population and there would be no
race problem. The race problem exists because of concentration in certain locali-
ties. These are (i) lowlands along the Atlantic coast, where there are 2,700,000
negroes and 1,800,000 whites; (2) the Mississippi bottoms, where there are 501,405
whites and 1,101,134 negroes; and (3) the Texas Black belt, where there are 82,310
whites and 126,297 blacks. Elsewhere the negroes form from 10 to 30 per cent,
of the total population. In only one of these black districts are the negroes in-

1 896.] WHA T THE THINKERS SA y. 849

creasing at a greater ratio than the whites. The race question will solve itself by
the distribution of the negroes. Due to their failure as farmers and the resulting
movement towards mining and factory employments, the movement of the negroes
is to the North and the white immigration into the South.

SOCIALISM AND STRIKES IN RUSSIA.

(From the National Zeitung.)

IT has long been known in Socialist circles that Socialism has entered the
Russian capital. May-Day, formerly noticed very little by the Russsian working-
men, has been celebrated by large masses this year. A special May-Day paper
of 12 quarto pages has been distributed in thousands of copies. This paper con-
tained, besides numerous exhortations by Russian Socialists, articles by Lieb-
knecht, Kaulsky, and Eleanor Marx-Aveling, the English writer. Nihilism has
been unable to take root among the Russian working-men, but socialism has taken
its place, and is flourishing. The Russian papers published in London repeatedly
announced the arrest of working-men who agitated for shorter hours and higher
pay ; in Odessa fourteen journeymen bakers and eleven tobacco-workers were
arrested for this reason on one day. The labor movement is not restricted to
the capital ; it is equally noticeable in the other industrial centres, especially in
Lodz, where the labor population is largely composed of Germans and Poles.
But in St. Petersburg the working-men are purely Russian. The rise of Social-
ism among them is, therefore, all the more remarkable.

GENESIS OF THE DENOMINATION.

(From 7 he Literary Digest.)

DR. JAMES H. ECOB, in a remarkable article in The Church Union (New
York), speaks of the prevailing sin of schism among Protestant churches. After
remarking that denominationalism was born of the movement towards individual-
ism that was concomitant with the Reformation, he says :

" Its father was a degenerate child of the reason, that doctrine of verbal in-
spiration. Its mother was that Cassandra of history — individualism gone mad.
The denomination is by no means a case of survival of the fittest. It is the fruit
of degeneration. Its stigmata are unmistakable — the decrepitude of doctrinalism,
the insanity of individualism. Mark that I say the insanity of individualism.
Right, sane individualism is a divine ordinance ior man. It always has its own
glorious orbit within the great constellated life of love. If the Reformers had
held to each other, not a man of them would have failed of his true place and
weight in the whole balanced order. But each man or group losing faith in the
divine law of community, and, of course, growing narrow and selfish, we find
them thrown apart, dividing and subdividing at every whim of self-assertion.
The shadow of a shade of difference on doctrine, or custom, or rite, or polity,
carried up into the court of conscience, at once took form and substance, and was
planted as a standard of separation or carried as a banner of attack. This process
of insane, unholy self-assertion has gone on till this day our Protestantism is no
longer a protest, but an internal disorder. An army with regiments so defined
and segregated is a mob. A government with states or provinces so self-centred
is an anarchy. A household so dismembered into single autocracies is a family
scandal and travesty. A constellation so broken from its centre is chaos."

850 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

/CATHOLIC Reading Circles should extend a cordial welcome to the article on
\j Orestes A. Brownson in the Atlantic Monthly for June, written by George
Parsons Lathrop, LL.D. Within the limits of ten pages will be found a sympa-
thetic study of a giant intellect earnestly devoted to the extirpation of error and
the defence of the truth. Dr. Lathrop claims recognition for Brownson as a philo-
sopher and teacher, a comprehensive student of religious history and government,
a potent essayist on many subjects, a man of conscience, and withal as ardent an
American patriot as he was a Catholic. From the year 1838, when Brownson
started his Quarterly Rei>iew, he wrote luminous expositions of the great public
questions discussed by the ablest thinkers in the United States. His writings
were intended not only for Catholics, but for all men. Twenty-one years after
his conversion, in September, 1865, Brownson wrote his treatise on the American
Republic. Concerning this remarkable work Dr. Lathrop writes :

" Never has the genius of our country and our nationality been so grandly,
so luminously interpreted, from so lofty a point of view, as in this masterly book
published when he was sixty-two. Mulford's The Nation . . . was brought
out five years later. . One may note the remarkable correspondences and the greater
depth and broader sweep of Brownson's exposition. He distinguishes between
the spirit of the nation and the mere government. The danger of the American
people is in their tendency to depart from original federal republicanism, and
to interpret our system in the sense of ' red republican ' and social democracy."

Dr. Lathrop calls attention to the fact that Brownson is omitted or figures
but slightly in our manuals and histories of literature. Only one extract is given
from Brownson in that excellent work, Stedman and Hutchinson's Library of
American Literature, and that one relates to an insignificant phase of the large
Websterian cast of his mind. The Columbian Reading Union has often pointed
out this defective recognition of Catholic authors. In all the cases brought to
our attention notice has been sent direct to the publishers, in the hope that they
might be led to do justice by the commercial inducement of making their books

acceptable to Catholic readers.

* * *

As a hand-book of ready reference for the refutation of the numerous false
charges invented by bigots of the ancient and modern type the volume on Catho-
lic and Ptotestant Countries Compared, written by the Rev. Alfred Young, C.S.P.
(Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West 6oth Street, New York, price SO is invalu-
able. Reading Circles should have it discussed at their meetings. Each chapter
furnishes abundant material for the interchange of opinion, and will be sure to
provoke a lively state of mind among the least talkative members. Some speci-
men passages are here given relating to libraries, the printing-press, and the
early editions of the Bible :

The United States Bureau of Education gives the present number of all
public or semi-public libraries, of 1,000 volumes or over, as 3,804. Of these
about 566 may be classed as truly " public " libraries. But that is an excellent
showing, and redounds greatly to the honor of our country, and especially to the
honor of the Protestant citizens who have contributed the largest share in the
work of library extension.

The popular Protestant belief is that somehow the invention of the printing-

1896.^ THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, 851

press, being coeval with the beginnings of Protestantism, is to be credited to its
" light," and as well the advantage that was taken of the new art in the multipli-
cation of books. There is about as much propriety in associating the invention
of the printing-press with Protestantism as there is in associating together the
ideas of Protestantism and liberty. Let us look at a few facts.

When was linen or cotton paper such as we now use invented ? The histor-
ian Hallam fixes the date at about A. D. noo (Introduction to Literature, vol. i.
p. 50). When were engraved letters and pictures on blocks of wood, ivory or
metal, in the form of what we now call " types," first invented and used ? Cer-
tainly as early as the tenth century. Many books were printed by hand from
those types, and the system of this kind of printing was called chirotypography
and xylography. The Encyclopedia Britannica (article Typography) gives a
list of twenty such books, " probably of German origin," and ten others printed in
some towns of the Netherlands. Says the writer : " Among these the Biblia
Pauperum (the Bible of the Poor) stands first. It represents pictorially the life
and passion of Christ, and there exist MSS. of it as early as the fifteenth century,
some beautifully illuminated."

What, then, did the invention of John Gutenberg, about 1450, consist in ? In
arranging these hand-types so as to multiply copies of the book. That invention
was the printing-press. Every Christian country was as yet Catholic, and the
immediate and active use of the press spread throughout Europe with astonishing
rapidity. From the year 1455 to 1 536, a period of eighty-one years, it is computed
that no less than 22,932,000 books were printed (Petit Radel, Recherches sur les
Bibliotheques, p. 82).

Hallam tells us that the first book of any great size that was printed was the
Latin Bible, which appeared in 1455. Martin Luther was born in 1483, and his
Bible, in the German language, was issued in 1530. It is a common belief
amongst Protestants that this was the first Bible ever printed in the vernacular.
What is the fact ? There were more than seventy different editions of the Bible
in the different languages of the nations of Europe printed before Luther's Bible
was put forth.

The library of the Paulist Fathers in New York City contains a copy of the
ninth edition of a German Bible, profusely illustrated with colored wood engrav-
ings, and printed by Antonius Coburger at Nuremberg in 1483, the very year in
which Luther was born. The first edition of this same Bible was issued in
1477. Nine editions of the Bible in the language of the people in six years in
one city of Germany, and that within thirty years of the invention of the printing-
press, and issued by Catholics too !

We have heard more than once of the Bible being " chained by the Romish
priests." For once they who make such assertions tell the truth. The celebrated
Biblia Pauperum — the Bible of the Poor — was one of those that were chained.
As copies of the Bible were necessarily very costly and scarce in those days, the
custom was to chain one to a pillar in the church where even the poorest of the
poor could get at it ; but, of course, not to read it. Oh ! no. When, druggists
and other merchants in New York City chain costly city directories in their stores
they do it precisely to prevent people looking into them.

As a singular example of the proverbial vitality of lies, I find this old sugges-
tio falsi in the " chained Bible " story dished up in a recent work, entitled Public
Libraries in America, by W. I. Fletcher, M.A., librarian of Amherst College; in
which it is presented twice as an illustration, once in the text and again on the
back of the cover, representing a" Holy Bible " with a dangling chain and a ham-

852 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept.,

mer descending to break it, with a Latin device — Libros Liberate — beneath ; a
motto well chosen to revive the original flavor of the ought-to-be-stale falsehood
it is designed to illustrate. Mr. Fletcher may be an excellent librarian, but when
he presumes to tell us that " the Reformation made a tremendous assertion as to
the right of man to spiritual freedom," and that " the thousands of volumes writ-
ten by the monks in the dark ages, and by them collected into libraries, were not
much used," and limits his praise for the service rendered by these libraries to
the "preservation and handing down to later and happier (?) eras the gems of
classic [Christian omitted] thought and learning," one is naturally led to regret
that he did not himself liberate certain books among the 61,000 which he, as cus-
todian, keeps " chained " under lock and key, and read them before venturing to
add another on the subject of libraries to his literary stores.

As to the stupendous labors of the tens of thousands of monks occupied dur-
ing many centuries in multiplying copies of the Bible, patiently writing out the
whole Scriptures by hand, and marvellously illuminating them — some of these
copies being written entirely in letters of gold — any one but a blind and supersti- •
tious devotee of Romanism must see that they had the Protestant " British Society
for the Propagation of the Gospel " and the great Protestant " American Bible
Society " in their eye, and were determined to forestall them at all cost !

And what may thus be said in explanation of all that the popes and bishops
and priests and monks have done in the matter of producing copies of the Bible
also applies to the cultivation of letters and the multiplication of all other kinds
of books, by Rome and all her agents in every age and in every country, and
especially by her agents near home in Italy. One must not find fault with Prot-
estantism for being so much behindhand in literature and the arts, and so much
inferior to Catholicism in all these things. You see Protestants were not there to
do it. All they need now is time and opportunity to catch up with Rome.

The following is from the pen of an American writer reviewing Hallam's
Middle Ages in the columns of the North American Review, 1840 :

" The great ascendency of the Papal power, and the influence of Italian
genius on literature and the fine arts of all centuries, made Italy essentially the
centre of light — the sovereign of thought — the Capital of Civilization." Hallam's
own words were these : " It may be said with truth that Italy supplied the fire
from which other nations lighted their own torches " {History of Literature, vol.
i. p. 58).

The Home Journal and News, published at Yonkers, N. Y., contained the
following notice :

" We publish this week our last instalment from Father Young's interesting
and valuable book, Catholic and Protestant Countries Compared. No other
book published so thoroughly refutes the calumnies frequently made against
Catholics. The authorities quoted are the strongest, while the quotations pre-
sented are exhaustive and to the point. It must have taken years to gather the
material, but the result more than repays the reverend gentleman for his labor.
We strongly recommend the book to every Catholic. If it could only silence for
ever the malicious slanders with which Catholics are charged it would indeed be
one of the greatest works ever published ; that it does not, is no fault of the
author. It should, and the only reason it does not is because no one is so blind
as the religious bigot, no one so bitter, no one so unscrupulous, no one so unjust.
The religious fanatic knows neither honor, mercy, nor charity in his blind enthu-
siasm. His hatred clothes rumor with all the importance of fact, while his
misguided earnestness gives his statements the benefit of a hearing.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 853

" To those who finally have the veil of prejudice removed, the wonder is they
could have been so blind. Yet the network which religious bigotry has woven
out of calumny and misstatements is so close that many honest minds go through
life with a fear and aversion for Catholics and their church. The one discordant
element in their lives is this very repugnance. Their hearts are good and charit-
able, but the horrid spectre their education has taught them to see in the Church
of Rome, the fearful results to peoples where she has had undisputed sway, the
mockery of religion as they have been taught to believe, the insincerity of her
ministers, the prostitution of all her most sacred sacraments and rites to the idol
of Mammon, form the curtain which shuts out from their minds the resplendence
of God's Church as seen by those who know her as she is, and love her because
they know her.

" Have Father Young's book in your house, loan it to your Protestant friends
and acquaintances ; it will certainly go far towards removing the bitterness born
of misinformation. If it does only this it will have accomplished much. For
many, however, it will serve as the entering wedge of earnest inquiry, which,
where properly followed and persevered in, lands the investigator in the bosom of

the church."

* * *

The Ozanam Reading Circle may well claim a considerable share in the suc-
cess which has come from the new educational and literary movement among
Catholics in the United States. It has the distinction of being the pioneer Read-
ing Circle of New York City. Following is the report of the president, Miss
Mary Burke, for the season. 1895-96 :

In October, 1886, the members organized, having in view the cultivation of a
standard of literary taste. By associating together in an informal and friendly
way our individual efforts were intensified ; contact with other minds awakened
new phases of thought. At our meetings we have obtained many advantages from
the concentration of attention on some of the best books — Catholic books espe-
cially— from carefully selected literary exercises, and from the vigorous discussion
of current topics. Year after year new plans have been added and the scope of
the work extended. With united good-will we have given our best energies to
make our undertaking pleasant and useful in its results.

For the success of our decennial year we invited the co-operation of nu-
merous friends who attended our public meetings and sanctioned our efforts for
the advancement of Catholic literature. A new feature was introduced. In ad-
dition to the Honorary Members, to whom we are indebted for many favors in
the past, it was arranged to form an associate membership for well-wishers un-
able to promise active participation in our work. The payment of two dollars
secured for each Associate Member the privilege of attending our public meetings
once a month. Without binding themselves to the obligations of active members,
many were thus enabled to assist in the extension of the work of self-improve-
ment which has been fostered by the Ozanam Reading Circle.

During October, 1895, it was decided to resume the study of American
literature in a brief and, as the plan has proved, a very successful way. The
work of studying an author was divided among three members. The first was
requested to give a short biographical sketch ; the second told of the striking
characteristics of the life and works of the author ; while it was assigned to the
third to present an abstract of the author's principal work. By this division of
labor the study of each writer was made interesting and as complete as our time
would allow. Among those presented to our consideration in this manner were,

854 THE COLUMBIAN READIXG UNIOX. [Sept.,

John Boyle O'Reilly, Christian Reid, Agnes Repplier, Louise Imogen Guiney,
Edgar Allan Poe, Washington Irving, Cardinal Gibbons, Lowell, and Emerson.
Following the same plan we became better acquainted with Coventry Patmore ;
Alfred Austin, Poet Laureate of England ; Dante Gabriel Rosetti, and Aubrey de
Yere.

In the study of these writers the members of our Circle have been greatly
aided by the Paulist parish library, which has an extensive collection of the best
works in modern literature. We certainly have a great advantage, in this
respect, over many less-favored Circles, and, judging from the year's work, the
members have fully appreciated this boon.

At every regular meeting portions of The History of the Church of God, by-
Rev. B. J. Spalding, covering from the fifth to the twelfth centuries, were read.
Extracts from the monthly magazines were also given, and contributed not a
little to the animated discussion of current topics. Original writing is always
encouraged, though not compulsory, and accordingly many of the meetings during
the year were enlivened by short stories, and individual criticisms of books which
the members had read as elective studies. Some of the books reviewed were,
The Data of Modern Ethics (Ming), Chapters of Bible Study (Heuser), History
of the Church in England (Miss Allies), History of Art (Goodyear), Land of
Pluck (Mary Mapes Dodge).

At the beginning of the year our Director, Rev. Thomas McMillan, promised
to devote one evening each month to talks before the Circle on the live
questions of the day, chiefly derived from the recent books of Bishop Spalding.
These proved both instructive and interesting.

The public meetings formed a distinctive feature of this decennial year. The
first, held on November 25, 1895, opened with a short address by the Director.
This was followed by an account of the Wadhams' Reading Circle at Malone,
N. Y., by Mrs. B. Ellen Burke. Afterwards the Rev. J. Talbot Smith spoke upon
the lack of spirituality among the writers of modern fiction, especially noting
some defects in the works of Conan Doyle. Among those who helped to make
interesting the exercises at our monthly meetings were Miss Grace A. Burt,
graduate of the Emerson School of Oratory, Boston ; Miss Marie Cote gave
original and selected readings ; Mr. John S. McNulty entertained us by a talk
about Novels ; William J. O'Leary, A.M., of Brooklyn, favored us with an appre-
ciative selection of passages from Tennyson. A favorable review of Edward
Bok's book for young men, entitled Successward, was read by Mr. Banks M. Moore.

At two of our public meetings, March 24 and April 21, eloquent lectures were
delivered by the well-known speaker, Henry Austin Adams, A.M. His subjects
were " Cardinal Newman " and " The Modern Stage." It is needless to say
every one was highly delighted with his marvellous oratory. On the Monday
evening following the lecture on Cardinal Newman, by request, our Director
reviewed for us Purcell's Life of Cardinal Manning.

Washington's Birthday was celebrated by a social gathering. The Circle was
" At Home " to its numerous friends from 4 to 6 P.M. All agreed that the pa-
triotic and musical selections, and particularly the lively conversation, enabled
them to pass a most enjoyable afternoon. Miss Louisa Morrison, Miss Margaret
A. Donohue, Mr. R. E. S. Ormisted, Mr. Matthew Barry, and Dr. John T. Roth-
well kindly furnished the vocal part of the musical programme.

The closing meeting of the season was held in Columbus Hall on May 26,
Mr. Alfred Young presiding. A scholarly address was delivered by Mr. John J.
Delany on " Types of Womanhood," especially as exemplified in Queen Isabella

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 855

and Joan of Arc. Musical numbers were furnished on this occasion by Professor
Pedro de Salazar and the Excelsior Quartette.

In looking back over the various events in the season of 1895-96^-6 feel that
our sincere thanks are due to those who, by giving their time and talents, so kind-
ly helped to make our tenth year most successful, and profitable for our active,
our associate, and our honorary members.

Besides the usual literary work, that is to be continued as heretofore on
Monday evenings, we have arranged to complete, next October, the study of edu-
cational literature, under the direction of Rev. Thomas McMillan. The course of
reading will be limited to six of the most approved books bearing on the profes-
sional training of teachers. This will be a rare opportunity for busy teachers
who wish to concentrate their attention on books of recognized merit, and wish
to escape the discouragement that sometimes comes to the solitary reader of
pedagogical works.

Brander Matthews, writing in the January number, 1895, of the St. Nicholas,
states : " Where Emerson advises you ' to hitch your wagon to a star,' Franklin is
ready with an improved axle-grease for the wheels." The two types are happily-
blended in the Ozanam Circle. When the theoretical element would soar too
quickly into ethereal altitudes unknown, the brake of common sense is so gently
applied by the practical that we all ride together into the regions of higher truths,
all unconscious of the unevenness of the road. We have had in mind these words of
Ruskin : " To use books rightly is to go to them for help ; to appeal to them when
our own knowledge and power of thought fail ; to be led by them into wider
sight, purer conception than our own, and to receive from them the united sentence
of the judges and councils of all time, against our solitary and unstable opinion."
* * *

The Champlain Summer-School assigned August 5 for the conference of
Reading Circles, and a large audience showed great interest in the work. Rev.
Dr. Conaty called the meeting to order, and introduced Colonel Richard Malcolm
Johnston, president of the Reading Circle Union, as presiding officer of the con-
ference. Miss E. A. McMahon acted as secretary, assisted by Mr. Warren E.
Mosher. Colonel Johnston spoke of his great interest in the Summer-School and
his joy at its great success. He then gave an address on the reading of good
books, and commended the civilization which urged women to be educated by
reading. He gave some vivid examples of the prejudice of Greece and Rome
against the cultivation of mind among women.

The following Reading Circles were represented at the conference :

Azarias Circle, Buffalo, N. Y., Miss B. A. McNamara ; Fortnightly Reading
Circle, Buffalo, N. Y., Miss Elizabeth A. Cronyn ; Santa Maria Circle, Pough-
keepsie, N. Y., Miss Anna G. Daly; Sacred Heart Reading Circle, Manhattan-
ville, N. Y., Miss Marcella McKeon ; John Boyle O'Reilly Circle, Boston, Mass.,
Miss Katharine E. Conway ; Azarias Circle, Syracuse, N. Y., Mrs. Hanna ;
Ozanam Reading Circle, New York City, Miss Mary Burke ; Conaty Reading
Circle, Watervliet, N. Y., Miss Mary O'Brien ; Chaucer Reading Circle, Montreal,
Canada, Miss Harriet Bartley ; Fenelon Circle, Brooklyn, N. Y., Mrs. Charles F.
Nagle ; Wadham's Circle, Malone, N. Y., Mr. W. Burke ; Catholic Club of St.
Anthony's Parish, Brooklyn, N. Y., Professor Marc Vallette ; Cardinal Newman
Circle, Rochester, N. Y., Miss S. R. Quinn; Columbian Circle, Rochester, N. Y.,
Miss Lizzie Willett ; Catholic Literary Circle, Rochester, N. Y., James C.
Connolly; Father Hecker Circle, Seneca Falls, N. Y., Rev. James O'Connor;
St. Regis Circle, New York City, Miss Matilda Cummings; Cathedral Read-
ing Circle, No. i, New York City, Miss Agnes Wallace; Cathedral Reading
Circle, No. 2, New York City; Cathedral Circle, Hartford, Conn., Miss Abby

856 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept., 1896.

J. Reardon ; Hecker Circle, Everett, Mass., Mrs. F. Driscoll ; Fenelon Circle,
Charlestown, Mass., Miss Margaret Curry ; Alfred Circle, New Haven, Conn.,
Miss Fannie M. Lynch ; Cathedral Reading Circle, Springfield, Mass., Miss
Anna McDonald ; Clairvaux Circle, New York, Rev. Gabriel Healy.

Miss Elizabeth A. Cronyn gave a musical selection in Italian.

Rev. Thomas McMillan, C.S.P., made an address on Catholic Authors. He
referred to the concentration of attention upon the best books, which is one of the
most practical results of the Reading Circles. Intelligent readers accept with
gratitude the writings of the great authors whose intellectual gifts are employed
in the advancement of science, art, and literature.

Brother Azarias devoted many years of his life to the study of classical litera-
ture in many languages. He felt keenly the duty of becoming familiar with the
great works which represent the enlightened convictions of the most profound
Christian scholars, especially those who had taken the pains to write luminous
expositions of nineteenth century problems. We should know our own writers,
who labor for us through many trials and tribulations. We should show our ap-
preciation of the sacrifices they made in writing for our benefit by reading their
works. In our plans for reading the first place should be given to the books that
defend the Catholic faith and show forth what the church has done for letters,,
science, and education. Some there are who can do a valuable service in refut-
ing erroneous opinions by learning the arguments which show how the truths of
religion are reconciled with reason.

Well-informed Catholics take a pride in knowing what their brethren have
written. It is often their duty to be able to give reasons for the faith. They
should be able to point out the books in which the leading dogmas and doctrines of
the church are explained and defended. By all means let our Catholic young peo-
ple become intimate with the words and deeds of the heroes whose lives were given
to the building up of this great Republic ; but let them also be no less familiar with
the sayings and doings of those heroic souls which reflect so brilliantly the beau-
ties of the church, and her salutary influence on the intellectual life of the world.

Bishop Michaud, of Burlington, in his words of greeting to the Summer-
School, urged all to read that remarkable letter on the wonderful unity of the
Catholic Church lately sent to the bishops by Pope Leo XIII. In relation to this
same subject great profit will be derived from the attentive reading of the book
on Christian Unity* written by the Rev. Morgan M. Sheedy. It is a book which
is up-to-date, very kindly in its treatment of the minds wandering in error, and is
well calculated to bring light and comfort to earnest seekers after religious truth.

Miss Moore, of Boston, then gave a piano solo, after which Rev. Dr. Conaty
spoke of the Reading Circle movement as the very vitality of the Summer-School
idea ; it has been its source, it is its sustaining power. It appeals to all who seek
self-improvement. It offers a means by which general education may be pro-
moted and systematic study carried on. It does not need numbers, but only ener-
getic and persistent action on the part of two or more persons who want to learn
something. The Reading Circle should be an organizer for the school, that
direction be given by it to the Summer-School assembly, where the lecture courses
supplement and complete the work of the winter evenings, and where the best
thought of our Catholic men and women is brought to the attention of thinking
people. * * *

* Christian Unity, By Rev. M. M. Sheedy. 120 pages, cloth, 50 cents ; paper, 10 cents.
Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West 6oth Street, New York.

AP The Catholic world
2

G3
v.63

PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "The Catholic world"

See other formats