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Right Rev. John England, 







No. 174 "West Baltimore Street. 



freu of The Dalttmnre PubHnMng C'o. 


AMONG the writings which have been placed before the 
American public, those of Bishop England must ever occupy 
a high place. Whether we regard him as a champion of 
the Church or as an eloquent orator on literary and social 
themes, we see a man of subtile genius, solid learning, and 
that forcible earnestness which in all ages makes its mark. 

Cumbered with extraneous matter and badly edited, the 
first edition of his works was speedily exhausted. The 
object of the present edition is to free his works from 
those imperfections, and to present them to the public in 
that shape which the great bishop himself would have 
chosen had he lived to give the final touches to the chil- 
dren of his brain. Engaged in a succession of controver- 
sies, he necessarily reverted to the same subject time and 
again ; consequently many of his articles were mere repeti- 
tions, and in these cases the editor has selected that which 
presents the subject best, fortified by notes from other articles 
and such sources of information as were within reach. He 
has also found an immense amount of matter in the 1849 
edition, not written by Bishop England, but consisting of 
newspaper clippings of no interest now, or else of half- 
digested papers stated to be by "other hands." None of 
this appears in the present edition; every line in it, except 
the memoir, notes, etc., is from the pen of the great 



The memoir is not of that species which may be described 
as " linked sweetness long drawn out ; " the aim is to 
give, together with a rapid resume of the principal events 
in his life, a living picture of the man. The notes and 
the index have been carefully prepared, and the latter will 
be found useful to those who desire to delve in the rich 
literary and historical mines embedded in these volumes. 

Long and faithful labor has been given to the work, and 
it is trusted that it will be appreciated, not only by 
Catholics, but also by the general public. 

H. P. M. 


PREFACE, -------_.-.- ill 

MEMOIE, -- T ii 

MEMORIALS, ..._._..__. xv iii 



DUELLING, ---._....... 61 







THE WALDENSES, - -- 334 


" " " SWEDEN, - - 337 

" " NORWAY, 345 

" " " RUSSIA, , 349 


" " " THE GUEZK SCHISM, - ... 403 


THE IRISH FRANCHISE, --------- 480 



"JOHN ENGLAND is a bad boy, because he will not learn how to dance." 
Such waS the sentence found in a school-book of John England's. What 
a revelation ! Evidently a tough character from the start ; achieving the 
reputation of a "bad boy" "because he would not learn how to dance." 
And he never did learn how "to dance;" never would "trip the light 
fantastic toe " to the most persuasive strains of official harp and viol or 
under threat even of the lash of power. Ancestors likewise; setting at 
defiance laws of tyranny, teaching a hedge-school out there in the mountain 
waste of Ireland, and keeping alive memories of the old Keltic glory. 
"What though the stout-hearted young fellow, destined to become the father 
of a great man, a man in every sense of the word what though he be 
thrown into prison for teaching he laughs at their heretical oaths, and 
escapes to resume his school in the ditch. 

Thus handed down, the strong old spirit, along with good blood, was 
born into John England in the classic city of Cork, Sept. 23, 1786. 
Chaotic world into which this chubby, strong-fisted baby came crying I 
doubt not. Thunders of the great Revolution in the far new world not 
yet died away ; Europe, corrupt to the heart, quivering over a terrific social 
volcano; all eyes blinded by the signs of the lightning of God's wrath 
blazing in the sky. "When the time comes, this little babe, grown up 
to man's estate, will take share in the world-wide Revolution going 
on ; most notably in recalling Ireland, who was dangerously fascinated by 
the French Revolution, from her imitation, just beginning, of the Revolu- 
tion's atheistic excesses. 

Fifteen years of peace, however, glided on ; of peace, but not of idle- 
ness. Few anecdotes of this youth, those immortal myths which are the 
natural growth or fuugi of all great men's biographies, are handed down 
to us. He was persecuted and called the little "Papist" in this Cork 
school. In after life, it is said, he met one of his chief tormenters in 
the church, and fell into such a rage that he could with difficulty control 
his emotion and proceed with the Mass. Having signified a desire to enter 
the priesthood, Rt. Rev. Francis Moylan placed him in the charge of Rev. 
Robert McCarthy, dean of the diocese. Before deciding conclusively on 
his vocation, he studied law under an eminent barrister of Cork a train- 


viii MEMOIR. 

ing of which he afterwards showed the rich effect in his masterly style of 
summarizing arguments. Having concluded that the priesthood was his 
calling, on the 31st of August, 1803, he entered the College of Carlow. 
The energy and untiring zeal of the man developed early. "Work while 
it is day, for the night cometh, when no man can work," was his motto. 
Procuring the establishment of a female penitentiary, and schools for poor 
boys and girls ; delivering discourses in the parish chapel ; laboring among 
the militia stationed in Carlow these are the glimpses we get of his five 
years of study in college. A curious incident happened in his military 
missionism. The officer in command was persuaded, by misrepresentations, 
to bring the soldiers who attended his instructions to court-martial ; but, to- 
the discomfiture of the fanatics, the trial ended with the acquittal of the 
men, the officer even encouraging them to continue in their course. In his 
old age and in far-away America, the bishop never tired of recalling this 
incident and of expressing his delight that his mission, like that of St. 
Francis de Sales, began amongst the military. 

In 1808 he returned to Cork for the purpose of receiving holy orders. 
He was made deacon on October 9, and the following day was ordained to 
the priesthood, by dispensation, as he had not reached the canonical age. 
Immediately appointed lecturer at the cathedral,* he delivered there a series 
of brilliant discourses on the Old and New Testaments. Besides these, he 
preached sermons in the small chapel of the Presentation Convent, which 
was always crowded by persons eager to hear his magical words. Nor did 
he pause at words. His zeal expressed itself in practical works. The 
present Magdalen Asylum, built at the expense of Mr. Therry, was in pro- 
cess of erection, and always being touched with a peculiar pity for the poor 
outcasts of the world, he turned his attention to this institution and was 
largely instrumental in making it a success. In the May of 1808 he estab- 
lished a monthly periodical, Religious Repertory, conducting it for several 
years, and gaining here the first experience of that journalism which after- 
wards was of so much use. A free circulating library in the parish of St. 
Mary's, Shandon, was another of his works. 

His next labor was visiting the city jail, for the purpose of carrying con- 
solation to the unfortunate prisoners. Here he toiled, unpaid, except by his 
own conscience, for many years ; especially among the poor fellows, chiefly 
" political criminals," destined to be sent out into that bleak world of Aus- 
tralia, with little chance of seeing a priest in the bushes of an unsettled 
country. One of his adventures while on this mission, together with many 

" North Cork Chapel," says Mr. Wm. Goo. Read ; but I am Inclined to believe, 
from the strongest evidences, that the cathedral was the right place. 


others too horrible to describe, confirmed in him that undying hatred, which 
every Irishman cherishes with sacred care, of the despotism sitting like an 
incubus upon unhappy Ireland. A prisoner, buried in a fetid dungeon, had 
given way to frantic despair. Soothed by the gentle ministrations of Father 
England, the man confessed he had been an emissary of the government. 
What was, and is, the business of an "emissary cf the government?" 
Listen. An " emissary of the government " made up conspiracies, and then 
betrayed them. Possessed at length of too many secrets, the government 
distrusted him, and entrapped him on an occasion of usual felony. This 
was the reason of his despair. Father England assured him that steps 
would be taken for his relief, and promised to come back next day. He 
did so, but the prisoner was gone. Now for the sequel of this tragic story. 
Years afterwards a man called on the Bishop of Charleston, and told 
him he had seen the unfortunate wretch in an obscure prison of India. 
The man told the narrator his dreadful history and its end. The cold- 
blooded, cruel, heartless miscreant* who ruled Ireland then, had become 
alarmed at England's interference, and had spirited the culprit away. 

Bays of light, penetrating the dark night behind us, reveal this inde- 
fatigible man still at work. In 1812 he was president of the College of 
St. Mary, teaching pupils their theological course. In the same year his. 
first recorded experience in politics took place. He was fond in after 
life of dilating on this feat. For the two Parliamentary seats of Cork 
there were three candidates one Liberal and two wealthy Tories who 
were also malignant Orangemen. Most of the electors were tenants of 
the two Tories, and it was feared that if they dared to vote in two 
Liberals, the result would be materially disastrous to the voters. But it 
was determined to elect one Liberal. But how to do so? Father Eng- 
land doffed his professor's gown for the day, and, under pledge not to 
be interfered with in any way nor pestered by the usual swarm of polit- 
ical advisers, took dictatorial charge of the matter. The result, instead 
of being a tragedy, was a rich comedy. lie organized a large body of 
voters, sworn to cast their ballots as he directed, and whose prudence 
he could rely on. These he posted, on the day of election, in a 
position apart, strictly binding them to hold no intercourse with any 
one but himself. Then he sent for the Tory agents and chatted with 
them in this pleasant manner: "A great many of our party are willing 
to vote for one or other of your respective candidates, but they fear 
that their right to vote for the Liberal candidate will be interfered with. 
Now, gentlemen, I warn you I I shall have you and your associates nar- 

* Byron's line. 


rowly watched, and every instance of intimidation or attempt at it I will 
instantly punish by voting ten men for your Tory adversary." They 
apprehended the situation ; they were caught. The polling began. Very 
soon a Catholic voter was threatened by his landlord's agent. The case 
was reported to the chairman. In terror the agent rushed to Dr. Eng- 
land, explaining and apologizing ; but nothing would do ; the ten votes 
were promptly deposited for the rival Tory and the Liberal. There was 
no trouble after this. When the Liberal candidate was so far ahead that 
defeat was impossible, the professor, merrily telling them they had behaved 
very well, left the Tory agents to canvass the remaining voters. 

In 1813 a jubilee, in which Dr. England took a leading part, was 
granted by the Pope to the Catholics of Cork, on the completion of their 
new cathedral. Another anecdote is related of Dr. England as occurring 
in the following year. Traveling from Cork to Dublin, on important dio- 
cesan business, the fall of snow during the night prevented the coach 
from going beyond Carlow. He, with some others whose business was 
urgent, set out to walk the rest of the way. Sinking exhausted in the 
icy cold, his companions abandoned him to his fate. A countryman, 
who had great difficulty in awakening him, found him in a comatose condi- 
tion. "I am a priest," was all he could say, but it was enough. The 
faithful Kelt at once put forth all his energies and conveyed him to 
the shelter of his cabin nearby. 

Destiny preserved him for the doing of great things. That very year 
there was need of his voice and his pen in the land, and his voice was 
raised, his pen set to work. Of all the vile acts of which the miserable 
Castlereagh was guilty in the course of a shameful life ended by his 
own hand, that of trying to subsidize the Catholic clergy, and thereby 
enslave them to the State, was perhaps the most vile. The nature of 
the attempt may be learned by turning to the last passages of "Epochs 
of Irish History," and the result of the civil power dabbling in Church 
affairs is most powerfully shown in the sketch of the Greek Schism, 
which is one of the best and most compact studies of that terrible eccle- 
siastical disaster extant. The government was willing to grant Catholic 
emancipation, provided a veto upon ecclesiastical nominations was allowed 
to the crown, and m order to gain the clergy offered to pay them sala- 
ries. The heartless aristocracy and gentry were willing to give in. Some 
of the hierarchy gaped also for the gilded bait in the centre of which 
was a deadly poison taint. But the noble priests of Ireland stood firm. 
Nevertheless, there was danger in the air. England boriowed money on 
his own responsibility, and, in opposition to the wishes even of his dio- 


cesan, assumed editorial charge of the Cork Mercantile Chronicle, the 
failing organ of the Liberal party. In the columns of this journal he so 
clearly and forcibly showed the evil character of this step, at once trea- 
son to their country and heresy to their creed, that the whole nation as 
a solid unit rejected the scheme with scorn. 

He then showed the grounds upon which the agitation for true Cath- 
olic emancipation should be carried on, and when O'Connell began his 
crusade he had no abler backer than England. The value of his assist- 
ance to the great Agitator could not be better told in a hundred tomes 
than in the pithy exclamation of O'Connell later in life: "With Bishop 
England at my back. I would not fear the whole world before me." 

It was net to be expected that the fearless journalist which England 
proved himself to be would escape the rigors of tyrannical laws. On one 
occasion he scathingly commented on the corruption of the judges and 
the iniquity of packed Orange juries. Earl Talbot, the Tory Lord Lieu- 
tenant, was down on him at once. A fine of five hundred pounds was 
his reward for telling the truth, in default of which for he could not 
pay it he took his place in the cell of the jail his father had occu- 
pied. Again: O'Connell went into the newspaper office while the editor 
was absent, and wrote a scorching article. Proceedings were begun. The 
only person in the office who could identify O'Connell's caligraphy was 
the journeyman a Protestant who had set the piece, but he was true 
as steel. The real offender not being found, the editor was responsible ; 
but, as chance would have it, the official certificate of editorship had 
been cancelled that very day, and thus the charge could not be brought 
home to England. Then the poor journeyman was clapped into prison, 
and during many months the Catholics supported his family. At last it 
leaked out that he was only detained to annoy the Liberals ; supplies 
ceased, and the journeyman was allowed to go free. 

On severing his connection with the paper, Dr. Murphy, who had 
succeeded Bishop Moylan, appointed England in 1817 to the parish of 
Bandon. This was the celebrated town over whose entrance gate was 
written the inscription welcoming "the Turk, the Atheist, and the Jew," 
but banning " the Papist."* Much of the bigotry still remained. For 
three years t Father England labored to overcome it, working, preaching, 

* Dean Swift, on seeing the inscription, extemporized the following retort: 
"He who wrote this wrote it well, 
For the same is writ o'er the gate of hell." 

tMr. Read saya "six years," but this could not be, for be received the 
appointment in 1817 and left for America in 1820. 

xil MEMOIR. 

and lecturing, until finally he brought the factions together in a genial 
social band. While here an attempt to assassinate him failed. A great 
Hand was guarding that life destined for an arena of noble toil. 

The call came. After being twelve years a priest, he was nominated 
to the just created See of Charleston, S. C. He was consecrated at St. 
Finbar's Cathedral September 21, 1820. * Characteristically, he refused to 
take the usual oath of allegiance, having resolved never to wear a mitre 
xmder the British flag. "As soon as I reach my see,'! he said, " my 
first step will be to renounce this allegiance ; therefore, the form is now 
idle and useless." Sailing from Belfast, he arrived in Charleston Decem- 
ber 30, 1820. He was accompanied by Father Corkery, the first priest 
he ever ordained, two or three students, and his sister, Johanna Monica 
England, t 

The new Diocese of Charleston comprised the three States of North 
and South Carolina and Georgia. It embraced an area of 127,500 square 
miles, and contained a white and black population of 1,063,000, of whom 
about 1,000 were Catholics. 

This was the prospect the young bishop had to face. There were 
two apologies for churches mere shanties with congregations torn by 
scandals, and two priests, who fled on his arrival. Father Corkery died 
soon after, and he was left alone. Never perhaps since the time of the 
Apostles, except in the case of missionaries to heathen lands, was a bishop 
reduced to such a state before. There was scarcely a shelter to cover 
his head, and the great Protestant Tradition of England was in a most 
virile and flourishing condition. Ignorance of the truths of the Church 
made his task dangerous as well as arduous. Theie he was, to hew out 
and build up a diocese, while he struggled to beat down the tradition 
of bigotry. He was like a pioneer of the West, holding the plow with 
one hand and the rifle with the other. Nothing daunted, he bravely put 
his hands to work; ay, and head and heart, too. 

For that same head had in it thoughts destined to live, and in that 
heart flowed placid streams of poetry and rushing torrents of eloquence, 
which would, when unpent. carry everything before them from end to 
end of the land. 

An extensive lot at the upper extremity of Broad street, then on 
the outskirts, but now in the heart of the city, was purchased ; a tein- 

* Bisbop Murphy, assisted by Bishops Moran, of Ossory, and Kelley, of ItJch- 
mond, Va., performed the ceremony. 

tThls estimable lady died in a few years. 


porary wooden structure was erected to do duty for a church, and a 
humble cottage beside it served lor the episcopal palace. Unterrified by 
the alarm and horror his presence excited, behold him then walking down 
Broad street, hands clasped behind back, buckled shoes, traditional knee- 
short clothes, frockcoat with military flaps, wide-brimmed Quaker hat, 
purple Roman collar, close-buttoned vest never with cigar or snuff-box 
iu hand, for he detested Virginia's weed such he is, poor as a beggar, 
but independent as a king. 

Recognizing at once the value of the press as an auxiliary of the 
Church, almost the first work of the bishop was to establish the United 
Slates Catholic Miscellany.* 

The Miscellany was practically the first Catholic journal in the United 
States. It existed forty years, until 1861, when it perished through the 
beginning of the Civil War. Few of its numbers have escaped the rav- 
ages of fire. The library edition was destroyed in the disastrous conflagration 
in Charleston, 1861. There is only one copy extant, possessed by the 
bishop's family in Cork. Miss England aided her brother, until her death, 
in conducting the Miscellany. Her pen frequently wrote in its columns, and 
her gentleness often toned down the sternness of his logic. A character- 
istic anecdote is told of the bishop in this connection. When the weekly 
issue was threatened from lack of help or other causes, be often went 
into the printing office and composed those brilliant articles which charmed 
alike the most fastidious Catholic and Protestant circles, not in writing, 
but in type! 

His most important work, however, was the formation of a diocesan 
seminary in 1824, of which Andrew Byrne, afterwards Bishop of Little 
Rock, was the first student. Very soon he had a band of fifty zealous 
priests, most of them young men. Churches rose like magic before his 
steps. Frail most of them' were, but foundations for after times. The 
Cathedral of St. Finbar, in Charleston, lasted thirty years, when at length 
it made way for the new one, built on a scale of great magnificence, but 
it was destroyed by the fire of 1861. Thus Bishop England's dream van- 
ished. He had never seen even the beginning of its realization. The 
cathedral will, however, soon be replaced by a fine structure, for which 
a large amount of money has been raised. 

*The statement in Father O'Connell's book. "Catholicity In the Carolines and 
Georgia," is inaccurate. The controversy on the Roman Chancery, which led to 
the editor of the Courier refusing to insert his replies except as advertisements, 
occurred in 1839, long after the Miscellany was established. These advertisements - 
the best that he could do were too condensed and also covered too much ground 
in following the ramblinga of his adversary. A powerful and profound article on 
the 6a*no subject id that on "Dispensation" in the second volume. 

"iv MEMOIR. 

An outbreak of the plague known as the "Stranger's Fever," and 
whose name sufficiently describes its character, gave him another labor 
from which he did not shrink. Day and night he was found in the 
most noisome quarters for Charleston, though a small city, has some 
spots in it as bad as those of New York carrying bodily and spiritual 
comfort to the sufferers. Numbers of orphans were left, whom the State 
very humanely provided for by the erection of an asylum. But this 
institution fell under sectarian control, and Bishop England determined, at 
whatever cost, to found a school in Charleston, where sectarianism was 
unknown, and where Catholic, Jew, or Protestant could receive a first- 
rate education. He was lavish of his slender means, introducing the best 
talent of Europe as teachers, and soon the school was crowded with the 
elite of the city and State. It flourished for seven years, collapsing in 
1831. Men of every class and profession, generals, statesmen, judges, lit- 
terateurs, even clergymen of various sects, at this day gratefully acknow- 
ledge the impulse and the strange intellectual power which the great 
bishop engrafted on their minds at this school. 

Another of his labors was the care of the poor, friendless slaves. 
He began to teach them, founding a school for the males under care of 
a priest, and a school for the females under care of the Sisters of 
Mercy. He was compelled to suspend the slave schools by the passage 
of a law making it criminal to teach a slave to read and write, but 
he continued the schools for emancipated blacks. So far as religion, the 
main thing after all, was concerned, his actions were not hampered by 
the slave owners, who soon came to recognize the important aids to virtue 
ami fidelity which the teaching of the Church afforded. Averse to accept 
the strictness of the confessional themselves, they would have been unwise 
indeed not to encourage, as they did, its introduction among a race 
hitherto devoid of morality. Dearly did Bishop England love his poor 
slaves. He arranged separate services for them, saying Uass and preach- 
ing to them in person, and subordinating everything to this pious duty. 
Although in his writings he defended the institution of slavery as just 
under existing laws, he set forth with stern logic the duties and obliga- 
tions of masters, and was in this far ahead of his age. 

The schools of the alxr.'e Sisters were intended for the lower orders. 
To reach the hearts of the wealthier classes, Bishop England, in 1834, 
procured a colony from the Ursuline Convent at Blackrock, near Cork, 
.ind planted it in the young diocese. The new project miscarried at first. 
Prejudice was so great that Protestants refused to send their daughters 
t<> this really excellent school, and Catholics were too poor to sustain it. 


After lingering twenty years, the older members returned to the parent 
house, and Bishop Reynolds sent the others to Cincinnati. A dozen years 
more passed along before Bishop Lynch succeeded in recalling the latter 
from exile, and locating them at Valle Crucis, wear Columbia. Their 
labors were here renewed under brighter auspices; up to the present 'day 
the school is celebrated all over the South as one of the very highest 
order. Protestants of the highest society prefer to send their daughters 
there. Thus Bishop England's work, though going wrong at first, has 
finally succeeded. 

In 1835 he undertook the mission of Apostolic Delegate to San Do- 
mingo, where religion, since the violent separation from the mother country, 
had fallen into exceeding looseness. He was received by President Boyer 
with all becoming honors. He restored Catholic discipline, revived the 
spirit of faith, and ordained a colored man of great learning. On the 
whole, the wisdom with which he managed this delegate aifair was among 
the greatest of his works, and his reports, preserved in the archives of 
Rome, are documents which will serve for future historians to build on. 

Daring this mission, Rt. Rev. William Clancy was appointed Coad- 
jutor Bishop, and he managed the affairs of the diocese for two years. 

Amid all these labors, he traveled incessantly over his vast diocese, 
at great personal inconvenience ; preaching in court houses, barns,~~or in 
the open fields; ministering on the bed of sickness, now on the bleak moun- 
tain side, now in the plague-stricken, sun-scorched streets of Charleston, 
often with his feet upon the wet ground, and otherwise suffering from 
scanty raiment which he had noc the means to obtain, for the poor pit- 
tances he collected were dispensed to the poor or used in payment of 
refutations of foul calumnies inserted in the papers as advertisements. 

Writing under these difficulties, he found it impossible to make his 
essays entirely accurate or extensive. Without proper revision, they were, 
under the necessities of the times, hastily given to the public, and in 
the present edition the editor has only made such emendations as were 
obviously required under the circumstances. 

Bishop England crossed the ocean four times, visiting Rome, Vienna, 
and Paris in the interests of his poor diocese, and frequently journeyed to 
different parts of the Union. 

He cherished two special devotions, without which a man may be 
great but never good a fervent love of our Lord in the Blessed Sacra- 
ment, and a tender, childlike trust in the Blessed Virgin. 

Yet this man, when the bloody hand of religious bigotry was raised 


in the land, was the promptest to crush it. After appealing in vain to 
the civil authorities for protection from the mob, he called out the 
Irish volunteers of Charleston. Look out now, you Puritan mob ; there 
is fight in front of you. Sleek officiality was alarmed. No more talk of 
burning down the churches and houses of Catholics. Peace must be pre- 
served. And so passed off this episode, and South Carolina was saved 
from the ineffaceable disgrace which is stamped upon Massachusetts. 

Bnt the time is coming when he would stand no longer foremost in 
the ranks of the Church militant. Voices were even now speaking to 
him, saying : " Thine eyes shall see the King in His glory ; they shall 
behold the land that is very far off." That iron frame was broken at 
last. Along the rugged mountain side he had borne his cross to Calvary, 
and now he was to be crucified there. 

After the Easter of 1841 he visited Europe for the last time. He 
paid his respects to the Holy Father. Returning the following autumn, 
he bade a final adieu to his sister, the Superioress of the Presentation 
Convent at Cork, his brother, Rev. Thomas England, the parish priest of 
Passage, and a large circle of Irish friends. Never did the love of old 
Ireland leave his heart. 

The voyage was long and stormy, and when he landed in Philadel- 
phia he was sick unto death. At the request of Bishop Kenrick, and 
concealing the malignant disease which was wasting him, he delivered a 
course of lectures and preached seventeen nights successively with his 
usual power and brilliance. Next he preached five sermons in Baltimore. 
He always held an annual retreat for his clergy in Charleston, and he 
had promised to be with them never having been known to fail in keep- 
ing his apppointment. He did not appear. What was the matter? People 
began to grow uneasy. 

He got home in December, all broken up. He insisted on preaching- 
and took part in the Christmas ceremonies. That was the last. Soon 
afterwards he took to bed, and lay there suffering for three months. He 
saw the end, and fortified himself for it by frequent Communions. All 
temporal matters were calmly arranged. 

A Solemn High Mass was offered in the cathedral in his behalf 
April 10, 1842, after which the clergy were summoned to his side. He 
had been a friend to the Israelites when hands Were lifted to strike 
them, and they now testified their gratitude by praying in the synagogue 
for his recovery. He received the Sacrament of Extreme Unction in a. 
composed mood, saying, as he held the Crucifix before him and kissed it, 
" Sweet Jesus, who didst deign to die for me in this ignominious man- 

MEMOIR. xvn 

ner, regard with compassion the condition of Thy servant, and be with 
him in the succeeding hour of trial." He spoke wise words of advice to 
the kneeling clergy around him for fully thirty minutes.. 

In the afternoon the seminarians, the dear children whom he was 
raising up to spread the light of the Gospel in this land, were called to 
his bedside. Let one of them, Father O'Connell, speak: 

" He lay like a sick lion ; all his strength was gone. The once 
manly frame was now a grand ruin from the ravages of sickness ; nothing 
remained of his manly, noble form, admired by the gaze of millions, and 
never seen but in the gap of danger or in the van of battle, nothing 
remained but the quenchless lustre of the eye, through which the won- 
derfully gifted soul still blazed forth in all the splendor of its native 
brightness. I saw him next, and for the last time, the following morn- 
ing, April 11, 1842, at five o'clock, the hour when he rose to say his 
Mass during his life unfailingly. The agony of death was upon him ; 
he had already received the Holy Unction ; his episcopal robe and stole 
were on his neck, the ring gleamed from his white hand, outspread on the 

coverlid as if in the act of blessing An audible distinct 

word was spoken, the last on earth of many ' mercy ' a whiteness was 
suddenly diffused over the face, which now shone like untrodden snow. 
After the priest had said, ' Depart, Christian soul, out of the world, in 
the name of God the Father, who created thee, in the name of God the 
Son, who redeemed thee, in the name of the Holy Ghost, who sanctified 
thee,' he added : ' Let us pray for the soul of the departed. Bishop 
England is dead.'" 

" Consider, O Israel, for them that are dead, wounded in thy high 
places. The illustrious of Israel are slain upon thy mountains. How are 
the valiant fallen and the weapons of war perished ! There was cast 
away the shield of the valiant as though he had not been anointed with 
oil. I grieve for thee; as a mother loveth her only son did I love thee."* 

* Bishop Keorick, of Philadelphia, afterwards Archbishop of Baltimore, cele- 
brated the Mass of Requiem and pronounced the funeral sermon. Not only were 
a large number of distinguished Catholics present, but also many Protestants and 
Jews of the best families from all parts of the country. 


On Monday, April 20, 1842, the vestries of the Church of St. Mary's, 
Hasell street, and the Church of St. Patrick, on the Neck, were invited 
to join that of the cathedral, in the library of the seminary, to give 
expression to their feelings on their late bereavement. A committee of 
three from each of the vestries (to which the clergy of the respective 
churches were added) was appointed to report at an adjourned meeting, 
to be held the next evening at the same hour and place, when the 
following preamble and resolutions were unanimously adopted. The Very 
Rev. Administrator, being through illness unable to attend, he appointed 
the Rev. Doctor Lynch to preside on both occasions. 

" PREAMBLE. As time rolls on its troubled stream into the peaceful 
waters of eternity it occasionally happens to bear as its burden some being 
more valued, more beloved and more useful than those whom every day life 
presents to our view, whose loss leaves a void in the community which can- 
not be filled up, casts a gloom over those prospects which were brightened 
by his labors, takes from a fond and devoted people the object of their ad- 
miration, their respect, and their love, and leaves behind but the memory of 
his virtues, his piety and his usefulness. Too well and tviily have we 
experienced this during the past week in the demise of our pious, learned 
and much beloved bishop an event as unexpected as it is mournful, 
bringing sorrow and sadness to all who knew him in public and private 
life, and making desolate the hearts of his own affectionate children, 
who from his lips were gladdened with the joyful tones of a Redeemer's 
promise, and by his hands were fed with that Bread which sustains 
man on his earthly journey. The child mourns the loss of a dearly 
beloved parent, and the burning tear of sorrow starts to his eye at 
affection's call as he beholds his father's dust restored to its parent clay. 
The friend breathes forth the silent, sad sigh of affectionate remembrance 
as he gazes on the cold remains of one united to him in the bonds of mutual 
attachment. But our father, our dearest father has left us ; our friend, our 
best of friends has gone from the world of many trials ; he in whom we 
centered all our confidence, on whom wo depended for strength and 



support, whose voice was ever ready at duty's call to be raised in the 
T indication of ourselves, our country and our religion, the pride of our 
hearts, the object of our love has gone, gone forever. 

"Oh, bitter thought! Oh, sorrowful recollection! Three months ago, 
as the rich tide of his eloquence was poured forth in portraying the glories, 
the justice and mercy of God, calling man from the ways of sin, and 
holding before his view the pardon obtained by a Saviour's blood ; whe could 
form the opinion that at this day his remains would lie cold beneath his 
own episcopal chair; and the voice that so often edified and delighted 
thousands with the fascinating tones of its own peculiar melody; should 
be hushed forever in the silence of the mouldering tomb ? But such is 
the lot of man, such the uncertainty of human speculaton. 

" ' Man proposes, but God alone disposes.' 

"United with us in the sacred bonds of the Holy Catholic f;iith, 
endeared to us by years of the most indefatigable exertions to promote the 
spiritual welfare of ourselves and our children, and connected with us by 
all those social ties that link man to man, he has gone to the home of 
the blessed, there to reap the reward of his labors from the hands of that 
God whom he so faithfully served, whilst he leaves behind him on earth 
a name that will not be forgotten as long as virtue, piety and talents are 
respected and revered. As a Catholic, his faith was as strong as the rock 
of ages on which Christianity is founded ; as a patriot, he was trained 
in the school of a Fitzgerald and an Emmet, where the fisry ordeal of 
persecution was the test of his sincerity ; as a scholar, his mind was pro- 
found, his imagination fertile and productive, his acquirements various and 
extensive ; and last, but not least, as a friend, he was one of those friends 
in need who are friends indeed. Never during his long and eventful 
career, whilst he defended his own, did he interfere with the religious 
opinions of others the burden of his preaching, more fully developed in 
his actions being 'Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.' 
How well then may we say that we all suffered on his demise : The 
community in losing one of its most virtuous, eminent and useful citizens ; 
the social circle one of its greatest ornaments, whose racy wit charmed 
whilst it brightened all around; religion, one of its ablest defenders; and 
humanity one of its warmest supporters : the widow, her guardian and 
protector; the homeless orphan, its father and preserver. Difficult will be 
the task to find his like again. The funeral bell has tolled his requiem 
dirge, the Church has chanted her sublime but mournful L'ibera, over his 
remains, the incense of the holy prayer for the repose of his soul has 


ascended to the altar of the Deity all now is silent, sad and still ; but 
though his star has forever set, his memory will ever remain green in our 
souls, and though his spirit has fled from its tenement of clay, still will he 
live in our heart's best affections. But while we mourn for the dead, the 
illustrious dead, never can we be forgetful of those who differ from us in 
faith, but unite with us in charity those whose souls are above the 
influence of prejudice, and who are ever ready to pay a deserved tribute to 
learning, piety and religion ; and whilst we in conscience steadfastly adhere 
to the holy and venerable creed of Catholicity, we must fully appreciate the 
liberal conduct of our dissenting brethren, and the high respect shown by 
persons of all denominations to the memory of our deceased illustrious 
bishop : Therefore, be it resolved, 

" 1. That the altars of the three Catholic churches of this city and 
the Neck be hung for one month with some distinguishing badge of 
mourning, to testify publicly the sorrow and respect of their respective 
congregations for their much beloved and ever to be lamented bishop, 
whose untimely death is to them, in common with their Catholic brethren 
in the South, an irreparable loss. 

" 2. That as another mark of the grief and respect of the aforesaid 
congregations on this melancholy occasion, each member of them is hereby 
requested to wear for at least one month some badge of mourning ; and 
that each member of the three vestries do wear a crape on his left arm 
for the same period of time. 

"3. That we hereby tender our grateful thanks to the Eight Rev. Dr. 
Kenrick, the distinguished administrator of the Diocese of Philadelphia, 
for his kindness in visiting us on this sorrowful occasion, and for the 
consolation he afforded us by his eloquent and heai't-touching eulogy on 
the character and labors of our beloved and zealous bishop. 

" 4. That the thanks of the three Catholic congregations of the city 
and the Neck are due to and are hereby tendered to the dissenting clergy 
of the State, to his Honor the Mayor, the Judges of the Courts in 
session during our affliction, the Collector of the Port, and the citizens 
generally, for the respect paid and liberal feeling shown by them on the 
death of our highly gifted and much esteemed prelate. 

"P. N. LYNCH, D.D., Chairman. 
"A. LAFITTE, Secretary." 



At an extra meeting of the Washington Light Infantry, held on the 
25th of April, 1842, the following resolutions were offered by S. A. 
Huiibut : 

"Although it may seem in some degree incongruous to mingle the 
name and the functions of a. clergyman with those of a military body 
such as ours, yet in view of the close connection of feeling which united 
this company with the Rt. Rev. Bishop England, our deceased chaplain, 
and inasmuch as the services he has rendered us and the inscription of 
his name as an honorary member of this corps give us the right publicly 
to express those sentiments of respect and regard which we all, as 
individuals, feel for his memory. Be it, therefore, 

"Resolved, That it is with no ordinary feelings of sorrow that the 
company thus publicly recognizes the loss from among its members of the 
Right Reverend Bishop England. The eloquent tones that have stirred 
our hearts as with the sound of a trumpet shall no more command and 
arrest our attention. The lips ever devoted to the advancement of virtue 
and religion are forever mute, frozen into silence by the icy hand of death. 
The earnest vindicator of the liberty of his native land, the devoted 
admirer and constant advocate of the institutions of this, his adopted 
country ; the man of unimpeached and unimpeachable character, of intel- 
lect and acquirements wide and far-reaching, of imagination fervid and 
poetic the priest of self-denying and self-sacrificing virtues, whom all 
men of every sect and faith delight to honor the careful and sleepless 
watcher over the flock committed to his care has finished his earthly 
course. The good soldier of the Cross, he was ever girt with his armor, 
and ready to defend from assault the truths he conscientiously believed, 
and how widely soever we may differ from his doctrine, we all admit 
that he fought the good fight, and performed the task that was set 
before him. 

"To us he was endeared by the relation he bore to us, by the recol- 
lections of the eloquent address which he delivered before this company,! 
and by the readiness which he evinced to render us any service that cir- 
cumstances might require. We presume not on this occa ion to analyze 
the character of this lamented prelate. No panegyric upon his virtues 
becomes this meeting. In life he courted not the applause of men, and 
his memory does not require their praise; for his eulogy is in the deep 

i "The Character of "Washington," vol i. 


grief of his friends, in the passionate mourning of the thousand hearts to 
whom he was the star of hope, the light upon their thorny path of life. 
His epitaph is written on the enduring affection of the widow and the 
orphan, the homeless and forlorn, whom, in life, he cherished and sus- 
tained. Their prayers are the incense around his tomb, their tears the 
libation over his ashes. 

"Be it further Resolved, That in the death of our lamented and 
reverend chaplain this company has suffered a bereavement which deprives 
it of one of its brightest ornaments, and that as a mark of our sorrow 
for his death, and our respect for his virtues, the usual badge of mourning 
be worn for thirty days." 

On motion of J. Bryan, Jr., it was resolved that tne above resolutions 

be adopted. 

D. McQUEEN, Secretary. 


At a meeting of the association held at their room, 278 Market street, 
on Monday evening, April 18, 1842, "Wm. A. Stokes, Esq., president, in 
the chair, Benjamin Pemberton Binns, Esq., offered the following resolu- 
tions which were unanimously adopted : 

"Resolved, That the Repeal Association of Philadelphia have heard, 
with feelings of deep and solemn -mourning and sorrow of the death of 
their venerable fellow member, the Right Reverend John England, Bishop 
of Charleston, in South Carolina. Attached to his person by his true 
nobility of nature, grateful for his generous devotion to the great cause 
of human liberty they will hold in enduring remembrance his virtues 
for imitation, his genius for admiration, and his piety for example. 

"Resolved, That in his death the country has lost one of her most 
valuable citizens, republican institutions have been deprived of one of 
their ablest champions, and the holy cause of Christianity has to lament 
a servant and advocate, whose entire zeal for the principles and interests 
of his own faith never caused him to violate the charity, which in a, 
land of freedom protects all, but injures none." 

The president, Mr. Stokes, having vacated the chair, which was takon 
by Mr. Benjamin P. Binns, proposed the following resolution : 

" Resolved, That as a mark of respect to the memory of the lamented 
Bishop England, the Association do now adjourn." 

Mr. Stokes in offering this resolution remarked that it was under feel- 
ings of no ordinary emotion, for none who knew Bishop England could 


fail to feel towards him an almost filial affection. He was one of those 
great men, the splendor of whose glories commanded the admiration of 
all ; "while the goodness of his heart and his amiability of manners made 
warm friends of all who were so fortunate as to enjoy his acquaintance. 
He was a remarkable example of one, who by the mere force of his native 
intellect, had caused his name to be known and revered throughout Europe 
and America ; known and revered not only as a Christian prelate, firm 
in the faith which he held but as an illustrious champion of human 
rights as a powerful advocate in Europe for that system of government 
in America, which recognized in him a citizen most useful and constant, 
and as a scholar of rare attainments a writer of singular purity an 
orator and reasoner who had triumphed whenever his powers had been 
called into action. His own deeds were his best eulogium; his memory 
would, he trusted, be the virtual prolongation of a life valuable for the 
pure example which he set to all an example which might live and 
which he hoped and believed would live in the breast of every repealer, 
exciting him to the practice of virtue, guarding him from the temptations 
of vice, and strengthening the resolution to persevere in that good work 
of repeal, the entire devotion to which was one of the brightest and best 
points of the character of Bishop England. Mr. Stokes spoke at length 
and with great effect of the character of Bishop England, and when he 
resumed his seat the association immediately adjourned, and in silence left 
their hall. 


At a meeting of the Vestry of the Catholic Church of St. John the 
Baptist, Savannah, held on the evening of Tuesday, May 3, 1842, Messrs. 
Dillon, Prendergast, and Condon were nominated a committee to draft a, 
preamble and resolutions, expressive of the grief and sorrow which over- 
whelmed the congregation, at the irreparable loss of its ever dear and 
beloved bishop. The following were offered, and approved of by the 
pastor : 

" How sad, how melancholy, and how difficult is the duty which we 
are called to perform, to give expression to our sorrow for the death of 
our beloved bishop, and to delineate his virtues, though it be but a 
mere attempt. Our grief is too deeply seated in our hearts ; it is un- 
alterable. His virtues are indescribable, who can delineate them ? Our 
sorrow is founded on general and special principles. Christianity has lost 
an indomitable champion ; Catholicity its most powerful advocate ; the 


Apostolic chain one of its brightest and purest links ; the Militant 
Church a noble, brave, and valiant soldier ; America, a defender of her 
rights, and the South a vindicator of her institutions. 

"Our father and friend has departed from us we are orphans; the 
fold is without a shepherd; the diocese without a bishop. The episcopal 
chair is vacant ; the sable emblems show where the venerated tenant lies ; 
the sanctuary is without its ornament ; the widow mourns the loss of her 
support ; the orphan weeps for him who gave him food. Oh ! Father of 
the faithful and Supreme Pastor of souls, listen to the sighs of the 
bewildered virgins ; behold the tears of the young men ; listen to the 
sobs of the aged, and have regard to the heart-stricken throes of all thy 
people. In the accommodating and deferential sense which usage sanctions, 
has there ever been a people who may apply to itself with greater pro- 
priety, the lamentable words of the Prophet, than the flock of the 
Diocese of Charleston, in its present, melancholy bereavement : Oh, all 
you that pass by the way, behold and see if there be any sorrow like 
to my sorrow, Blessed Redeemer of mankind ! for the iniquities of the 
people have you been stricken the sons of the fold have called for your 
death. Have our indifference, our neglect and apathy, in Thy service, 
provoked the blow just dealt to us? Have our sins incurred the heavy 
chastisement ? We fear for ourselves we tremble, and humbly bow 
down as culprits in Thy sight, and penitently sue for pardon. In sack- 
cloth and ashes shall we endeavor to atone, and our future conduct shall 
be the evidence of the sincerity of our expressions. Spare, Lord, 
spare Thy people, and give not Thy inheritance to reproach. If in anger 
Thou hast taken Thy servant from a sinful people, in clemency and com- 
passion leave not Thy fold without a shepherd ; send one according to Thy 
own heart, and worthy of him who was our first pastor. In testimony 
of our grief, and as an external manifestation of how sensibly wo feel 
our irreparable loss, be it 

"Resolved, That at the approaching Month's Mind, our church be 
suitably decorated, and as long afterward as our pastor shall deem 

"Resolved, That the vestry and members generally be requested to 
wear the same badge of mourning for thirty days. 

"J. F. O'NEILL, Pastor. 
"JOHN MURPHY, Secretary: 1 



At the regular monthly meeting of the Young Catholics' Friend 
Society, Sunday, May 8, 1842, the following resolutions on the demise 
of Bishop England were unanimously adopted : 

"To the name of Bishop England, haloed as it is with the glory 
of his sublime virtues and memorable deeds, we can offer no commmen- 
surate tribute ; but, being solicitous to attest our esteem for all that is 
pre-eminently beautiful, pure and grand in the human character, and our 
mingled veneration and regret for the splendid virtues and brilliant 
genius which have passed from amongst us to a more congenial sphere, 
it is therefore 

"Resolved, That in the decease of this good prelate our Church has 
been deprived of a glorious light the Catholic hierarchy of a divine, 
eloquent, pious and erudite ; and Christendom of a luminary whose rays 
were confined to no sect, but beamed upon all, dispelling bigotry, and 
giving a universality to Catholic faith which will be honorable to his 

"Resolved, That we proudly claim the illustrious dead as a native 
of that land which, though enslaved, is still glorious in her bondage ; 
and that in his death Ireland has been deprived of a pure and fervid 
patriot, whose voice was ever ready to assert her claims to independence, 
as well as to uphold the glory of her religion. 

"Resolved, That the testimony of Bishop England, when recently 
visiting this city, to the excellence and utility of this institution, is con- 
sidered by us as attaching the highest honor to the name of Young 
Catholics' Friend, and that it will ever be the proud boast of the 
society that Bishop England gave it his warmest approbation. 

"Resolved, That although he, esteemed and beloved by us, now 
slumbers in the cold and silent tomb, his genius, his virtues, and piety, 
shall live for ever in our affections, and be enshrined in our memories 

and hearts. 

"PETER E. BLAKE, President. 
"J. GERVASIO, Secretary." 


According to public notice the Hibernian Society of Charleston con- 
vened at their hall on Monday evening, April 18, 1843, to pay the 
proper tribute of respect to the memory of their distinguished brother 
member, the Right Rev. Bishop England. 


In the absence of Mr. Win. A. Caldwell, the president of the so- 
ciety, Mr. Thomas Stephens, the vice-president, called the meeting to 
order. In a feeling and touching manner he introduced to the society 
the painful occasion which had called them together. He bestowed a 
rightly merited compliment on the many virtues of the deceased, and 
revived the recollection of many occasions where the cause of humanity 
and the most striking social qualities were happily illustrated in him 
whose lss had occasioned such general grief. After Mr. Stephens had 
concluded, A. G. Magrath, Esq., said he had been requested to prepare 
some expressions of the feelings of the society on the deep loss sustained 
in the death of Bishop England. He had undertaken the duty, because 
to him it was a pleasing task to pay respect to the memory of a man 
so good and so great. He then read to the society the following tribute 
to the memory of Bishop England : 

"A mournful occasion has convened us! A chair is vacant in our 
hall 1 A voice that was loud in the admonitions of the Christian and 
the patriot has died away on the ear! A spirit that seemed the em- 
bodiment of kindness and charity that hung around this hall with a 
zeal that enchanted while it instructed, has departed forever ! The min- 
ister, whose religious devotion lent sanctity to his character, and in- 
fluence to his councils ; the member whose heart responded to the call 
for relief; and gave to wretchedness that sympathy more consoling than 
wealth ; the patriot whose eloquence in the cause of a suffering country 
hailed the event of laying the corner-stone of our hall and baptized its 
completion in the same rich and feeling strain; 1 has been taken away 
from us forever and reposes in the calmness of death, in the sanctuary 
he so long dignified and supported. In our wide community, where all 
sects are zealous in the support of their peculiar tenets, there is now no 
feeling save that of deep sorrow. Controversies and disputes have been 
hushed into silence before this manifestation of divine omnipotence and the 
Hebrew, whose heart was opened by a generous liberality and the Protest- 
ants, who combated with him the doctrine of the Church and the Catholic, 
who listened to him as the oracle of the living God, have alike crowded 
around the coffin which encloses his mortal remains, and offered the deep 
and touching tribute of tearful sorrow to his many virtues. "While all, 
however, mingle their tribute of sympathy in the loss of that distinguished 
prelate, the lit. Rev. Bishop England to us, his death is a matter of 
]>cculiar bereavement. 

' Bishop England was unanimously selected by tho Hibernian Society 1o de- 
liver tho address at tho laying of tho corner-stone of tho Hibernian Hall, and 
again at the first public opening after Its completion. 


" The descendant of those, who are able to number many of their name 
among the distinguished sons of tho land of their birth, John England, at 
an early age, gave evidence of that power of mind and devotedness of pur- 
pose, which eventually developed themselves so eminently and successfully in 
the administration of the affairs of this diocese. At an early age, he be- 
came possessed of the influence of religion, and unheeding the enticements, 
which to one so gifted, might easily have been supposed potential in direct- 
ing his attention to pursuits, where success in the eye of the world seems 
more gratifying than the quiet duties of the ministry, he yet gave to the 
Church the full energies of a young and daring spirit, a heart filled with 
the gentlest charities of life, and an intellect even then commanding the 
respect of those distinguished by age and station. At an early age he com- 
menced the duties of his holy ministry, and his efforts were gifted with the 
most gratifying success. The attention of the Catholic Church being turned 
towards the Southern portion of the United States, the position and promises 
of usefulness already displayed by this distinguished man, recommended him 
to the appointing power. And, although he had not attained the age which 
the Church prescribes for the possession of the office for which his services 
were required, a dispensation was obtained ; l and he was invested with the 
high and responsible position of bishop of a diocese composed of our own 
and two of our sister States. He came among us with many prejudices to 
surmount ; many difficulties to overcome ; much dissatisfaction to assuage. 
But the edge of prejudice was soon exchanged for confidence ; the difficul- 
ties of his position yielded to his labor of love ; and the discontent of all 
was exchanged for the harmony and fellowship which has bound the mem- 
bers of his Church in the strong bonds of confidence and affection. 

"As the patriot the lover of the land of his birth, no superior could be 
found to him whose loss we deplore. He was born where the iron hand of 
despotism ground to tho dust the noblest of his race. He lived where he 
could see the scaffold reeking with the blood of those who prized the honor 
of their country more than they feared death. He suffered with those who, 
conscious of the then fruitless effort they were making, felt that religion of 
the patriot which makes him hug the chain in triumph he cannot break 
in the hall of the oppressor. In all his efforts connected with the cause of 
suffering Ireland, he gave full evidence of that high and dignified zeal that 
fervid, because sincere eloquence, which recalled the scattering senses of the 

i The writer has fallen into a slight mistake in this sentence. Bishop England 
was ordained priest at the age of 22, a dispensation of two years having been 
granted in consideration of his piety and learning. The canons of the Church re- 
quire that no one be consecrated bishop, until he has completed his thirti th year. 
1 ishop England received episcopal consecration on the 21st of September, 1820, the 
thirty-fourth anniversary of his birthoay. 


weak, chastened the daring, and excited the timid. Careless of the con- 
sequences so far as he was concerned, his voice echoed from the gatherings 
in his own land, and told the oppressor in a tone that could not be 
unheeded, the tale of tyranny and suffering that millions of his country- 
men were compelled to undergo. 

"A a citizen of the United States the adopted son of our Republic 
there never breathed one more fervent in his admiration of the institutions 
he had sworn to protect, more religious in his observance of the duties 
which devolved upon him as a citizen of a country whose laws knew 
no distinction of classes, whose soil cherished and supported alike all sects 
in religion. His intimate acquaintance with the excellencies which shine 
out in bold relief, amid the vices of the many models of republican gov- 
ernment, made him at once the zealous advocate of a well regulated liberty 
the antagonist of all lawless and revolutionary feeling. His long expe- 
rience in all the intricacies of the human heart, taught him at once the 
possibility of man's government of himself, and the evil inseparable from 
boundless dominion, when power is concentrated in the hands of one ; be 
it, therefore, 

''Resolved, That the Hibernian Society of Charleston have, in the death 
of the Hight Rev. Bishop England, sustained the loss of a member and 
companion, whose eminent learning adorned the virtues of charity and 
benevolence ; whose character gave dignity to his society, his country and 
his Church ; whose name will be ever dear in the memory of those who 
love and admire the excellencies of our nature. 

"Resolved, That in testimony of our profound respect, the members of 
the Hibernian Society will wear crape on the left arm for the space of 
thirty days." 

After Mr. Magrath had concluded the reading of his tribute, on 
motion of the Hon. James S. Rhett, it was unanimously resolved that the 
same be adopted by this society. 

On motion of Mr. Moreland, Resolved, That the Society do now ad- 
journ in silence, and without comment. 

The society then adjourned. 


Vice-President, Acting President. 
__ W. N. HAMILTON,. Secretary. 




I DOUBTED whether, on this occasion, it would be better 
to confine myself to the topics naturally suggested by the 
recurrence of the day we celebrate, and discharge the duty 
which you have imposed upon me by reciting the usual 
detail of the life of the apostle of our nation, or to take a 
more enlarged view of what generally interests us, and 
hastily sketch, for beneficial purposes, an imperfect outline 
of our history. Upon a little reflection, I have determined 
to attempt both, giving preference, in order of time, to those 
facts which first existed, and introducing, at the proper 
epochs, to the notice which they must necessarily command, 
the labors of St. Patrick, and from the entire, drawing a 
strong moral lesson, which they forcibly inculcate. 

The island from which we are sprung is but small upon 
the surface of our globe, yet its history is that of many 
centuries, and one which is more or less an object of interest 
beyond that of curious research to most other nations of 
the world. This day you may find her children congregated 
ia their societies, upon the banks of the Savannah and of 
the Granges. This day they search for the Shamrock under 
polar snows, and amidst the -sands of the equator. This 

1 Substance of an Address delivered before the Hibernian Society of the City of 
Savannah, Georgia, March 17th, 1824. 


day millions of voices are raised round the extended circum- 
ference, their shout and their song vibrate on the rays, to 
meet in their own verdant, glittering centre. They exhibit 
themselves decorated in the courts of the old world, deliber- 
ating in the assemblies of the new ; they lift the standard 
of Bolivar, they pour out their ejaculation at the tomb of 

Qnse regio in terris, nostri non plena laboris? 

The civilization of our island is not that of yesterday. It 
is not by oppression that man becomes social, it is not by 
restraint and compulsion man becomes civilized. If our 
ancestors were polished, we can show the causes of the 
semi-barbarism of some of their descendants. The cause 
which we assign is amply sufficient for the effect which is 
found. But if our ancestors were more rude than their 
proscribed children, we cannot explain facts of which we have 
glaring evidence. Why, then, should we become fashionably 
inconsistent? Why should we be contradictorily polite? 
Consistency ought to be fashion ; truth ought to be polite- 
ness. God forbid it should be otherwise in America ! Allow 
the truth of our assertions, our whole history is consistent ; 
that of which we have perfect evidence, supports that of 
which the evidence has been lost or mutilated. Deny the 
truth of that part which is thus supported, and that of which 
you have the most perfect certainty becomes inexplicable. 
When we call upon you, then, to believe these assertions, 
we do not substitute a theory for a history; but we present 
you with a series of facts differently testified, some having 
the evidence of history, the others possessing that strong 
moral evidence to which any reasonable being must give a 
willing and a ready assent. 

We are asked for our documents. They whose interest 
lay in their destruction were stronger than we were ; they 
became possessed of one portion by force ; they were more 
subtle than an open-hearted people, too confiding, too unsus- 
picious ; another portion was obtained ; until the records of 


our glory had nearly all insensibly disappeared ; and when 
\ve spoke of the acts of our progenitors, we were sneered at 
as impostors by those who calculated upon their safety in the 
consciousness of their baseness. But though the parchment 
should be shrivelled to ashes in the flames ; though the 
sceptre may be stricken from the monarch's hand; and the 
pointed crown bo torn from his dishevelled head ; though 
the assembly may be driven from the hall of deliberation, 
and the blazonings of heraldic precedence be mingled in con- 
fusion and trampled in the dust ; though it may be criminal 
to preserve the name of your progenitors, and the great 
portion of the people should be compelled to take up sur- 
names from trades and occupations, and in a language which 
was yet scarcely blending into form, and next to unintelligible ; 
still, the memory of facts will outlive the destruction of their 
testimony, and the reasonable traditions of a nation will supply 
the place of writings. 

If the settlers of our island did not arrive- from Spain, 
whence did they come ? Their traditions inform us of the 
fact. Upon what shall we found the contradiction ? The 
individual who addresses you has examined, upon the spot, 
the traditions and the places, so far as any traces remain ; 
and notwithstanding the ravages of time and the ravages of 
enemies, many do yet remain ; those remnants of what were 
described as but remnants long since, admirably coincide with 
what might be naturally expected after the lapse of ages. 
The Irish peasant loves to remain near the spot which con- 
tains the ashes of his parents, and successive generations will 
be found renewing, where the laws did not operate to preven- 
tion, the names of their grandsires in the persons of their 
children ; the traditionary songs, which have floated down the 
stream of time, give the exploits of the hero, and are found 
to proceed parallel to the stream of his blood. And on. a 
coast of cliffs, and in a land of hills and valleys, topography 
is not so easily changed as on a coast of sand, and in plains 
liable to inundation. 

The wreck of the history which has been preserved coin- 


cides with the tradition, and the song, and the appearance. 
Shall we be cheated of the poor gratification of the history 
of our ancestors, because an active system has been persevered 
in, during successive administrations, to destroy our records ? 
I again ask, what is to be set up in opposition to the little 
we adduce? If this was not their origin, whence did they 
come ? 

The remnants of our histories inform us, that our Gallician 
ancestors were a settlement made by an African colony, who 
had previously migrated from Tyre in Phoenicia, and who 
had, during a very long period, kept up an interchange of 
commerce. The histories of other nations which have been 
more fortunate in the preservation of their archives, leave 
no doubts as to the origin of Carthage ; yet were but a 
very few records destroyed, before the art of printing) upon 
what grounds would the historian rest for his proof, save 
the song of the Roman poet? The migration from Car- 
thage to Spain \vas easier than from Tyre to Carthage ; 
perhaps the fact is also better sustained by proof. From 
the harbors in the northwest of Spain, even in those early 
days of naval science, the voyage to Ireland was not diffi- 
cult, especially to the exploring descendants of the greatest 
commercial people then in the world. The facts are 
related by our historians, preserved in the traditions of our 
people ; consistent with the documents of every age of our 
country, possible in their nature, by no means unlikely to 
have taken place ; no other facts are offered as substitutes ; 
some such facts are necessary ; those have always been ad- 
duced. AVe are referred to the relics of our literature, to 
the documents which would substantiate them ; we point out 
the fate of those documents which are known to have existed. 
I know not upon what ground our claim is to be rejected. 

We have next the testimony as to a commerce of some 
continuance between those descendants of Milcsius, the 
founder of the Irish settlement, and the Africans from Avhom 
they were sprung. AVe find, at different periods of time, 
several swords and other warlike weapons dug up in the 


bogs of Ireland, unlike the arms of Northern Europe, unlike 
the Roman weapons, but of the same figure and the same 
metal and alloy, brazen, as those which fell from the dying 
warriors of Carthage at Cannse. Golden crowns and collars 
were found in like manner, of similar manufacture, and of 
the same alloy with those of Africa and the East, and by no 
means corresponding with those of any neighboring people. 
The written records of a people may be given in tatters to 
the raging winds of every point of the compass, but monu- 
ments will still remain. 

Rome never gave her deities to Ireland; but whilst that 
proud people dictated to a subject w r orld, Ireland preserved 
even her idolatry unchanged. Her deities were of eastern 
origin, and her rites of worship were of Asiatic institution ; 
not those of the Bramin, but those of the Phoenician. Baal 
was her chief deity, and he was worshipped with fire. We 
need not the sacred volume for the Asiatic facts and cus- 
toms, they are too plain to be questioned. And which of 
us could not testify to the fires of May-eve in the island 
of our nativity? The custom still continues, though Chris- 
tianity has purified the observance by stripping it of the 
criminality of the object. So interwoven with the fibres of 
his heart are the usages of his fathers to a child of Erin, 
that they are to be eradicated only with a dreadful pang, 
after it has been found absolutely necessary. Our earliest 
writers inform us that the fires of Baal, whose worship was 
always known amongst the Milesian settlers, were lighted 
with great solemnity on that day which now corresponds to 
May-eve. We have ourselves seen the fires, and passed 
through them with the sportive thoughtfulness of youth, to 
avoid some undefinable evil which we dreaded from spirits. 
We know that the month of May is still called, in the 
language which some of us have lisped in our childhood, 
Beal thinne, or the fire of Baal. How many other facts 
which our historians testify, which our eyes and our ears 
have known, are totally inexplicable without the mythology 
of Phoenicia ? They crowd upon my mind ; but I must not . 
detain vou. 


Amongst the scraps of our history which remain, is the 
list of the monarchs ; the mode of his death, the name of 
his successor, the length of his reign, are generally appended 
to each; and the period of time which this would occupy 
fills up about that space which brings us, counting back from 
the era of St. Patrick, to those times which witnessed the 
early dawn of civilization in Greece. Egypt is older than 
we are ; yet, though we acknowledge her civilization, the 
progress of her arts, the extension of her commerce, we have 
little of the history of her monarchs, save the repetition of 
the name of Pharaoh. 

From Phoenicia Egypt received her literature ; from Phoe- 
nicia and from Egypt Greece drew hers. Our forefathers 
date the epoch of their migration from the East about the 
time when Cadmus brought letters into Crete. Egypt had 
her hieroglyphics, but they were not exported. The Grecian 
character is principally Phoenician. 

"When were those records of Irish monarchs produced ? 
The first Christian missionaries found them in the country, 
and the voice of the country attested their having been 
always known as authentic public documents ; and the 
princes or chiefs then in existence traced their pedigree 
back upon the list, and the title, by which they held their 
place and their possessions, was the accuracy of the register, 
which was kept under the eye of the nation. 

The wandering tribe, or the lawless horde, may for the 
moment be placed under the guidance or the domination 
of some chief, whose prowess or barbarity might have led 
to his election or to his usurpation ; but his authority expires 
at the utmost with himself, and his successor, if a successor 
he have, cares little to preserve the record of the man who 
swayed before him. But where civilization has introduced 
law, where society is regulated upon principles, and the 
governor is not to be elevated or depressed as caprice may 
< lid ate, the record will be kept, and the principle will be 
maintained, with at least some semblance of regularity; and 
its existence will be at once the evidence of time and the 
evidence of civilization. 


The Irish had a written language, in which those records 
were kept; that language, however imperfectly preserved, 
exists still, and those characters are used to-day. We have 
been told, they are of Celtic origin ; that they are the char- 
acters of the North of Europe ; that they are Eunic ; that 
they were common to the Irish bard and to the Norwegian 
scald; that they are the same which England knew as her 
Saxon letter. The fact is not so. Make the comparison, 
and you will perceive a much stronger affinity between the 
Irish character and that of the early Greek. Without 
entering into the critical disquisition as to the gradual varia- 
tions in Greece, before her letter and her language assumed 
their stable forms, I do not hesitate to assert, that, with the 
exception of the letter corresponding to g, the similitude of 
our letter and the early single letters of the Cretans is most 
striking. Yet I do not deny a strong resemblance between 
even the Saxon and the Irish ; but it is easily explained 
by facts which are obvious. 

Phoenicia was the mother of letters ; thence the Greek 
principally derived his ; thence, at the same period, our pro- 
genitors brought theirs ; thence, too, northward, towards the 
Tanais, and the Scythian hills and plains, men took their 
characters. Centuries elapsed, ere the hardy hunter of north- 
ern Asia directed his course to the west. Siberia, still 
shrouded in her untrodden snow, accumulated the frosts of 
ages. Nor Russ, nor Muscovite, as yet was known. Along 
the Don, the Volga, and the Ister, guided also by the setting 
sun, after other centuries had rolled away, the Asiatic swarms 
traversed a pathless forest and a mighty waste, and found 
themselves, some in Scandinavia, and some still farther south, 
where their descendants, under the name of Saxons, proudly 
held their sway. Their gods were not the gods of Erin; 
of Baal and his associates they had no knowledge; their 
fathers had substituted others in their stead. Ireland knew 
nothing of their Woden, of their Thor, nor of their Freya. 
Nor was their language the same ; though the names had 
been changed, the letters, in which those names were written, 


preserved a great affinity, for they were brought from the 
same school. 

The similitude of the Irish to the early Grecian letter, 
together with the space of time occupied by the reigns of 
their monarchs, and the allowance for that time which was 
spent in the intermediate colonies, will coincide admirably 
with the account of our historians, that their progenitors 
were companions of the early Greeks, and that our country 
was settled by them about the era of the dawn of science 
upon Greece ; and that our progenitors, having been descended 
from a people then highly civilized, and having brought with 
them letters, formed a regulated and civilized establishment 

Ireland could not have procured the Saxon nor the Celtic 
nor the Runic characters before those characters were known. 
They were not known in Europe until after the period of 
Christianity. Ireland, upon her receiving this religion, had 
books written in her own character during ages, which books 
the first missionaries saw, and many of which regarding her 
mythology they destroyed; and when she received Roman 
literature, a curious circumstance, singular, too, I believe, 
presents itself to our view ; her predilection for her own let- 
ters was such, that she wrote the Latin language in the Irish 
character. The individual, who has the honor of addressing 
you, speaks from what he has seen and known. 

Our country had her law, the Brehon code and the customs 
of Tanistre. It has been said, that they who lived under 
those laws must have been barbarians, because the punish- 
ment of death was not enacted against the offender; his fine 
was in proportion to his offence ; perhaps the laws of Draco, 
or of Great Britain, would have better suited the disposition 
of the objector ; but it is a novelty at least worthy of notice, 
to find that a tenderness for human life is now the character- 
istic of a barbarous people. Greece had her Solon and her 
Lycurgus, Rome had her Numa, long before the epoch of 
Christianity ; why shall Ireland be robbed of the legal beauty 
with which she was decorated by her Loghaire, by her 


Ollamh Fodhla, and so many others, at as early a period as 
that of either the Greek or the Roman? Are we also to be 
sneered at, because upon glaring evidence we believe that, 
besides the regular meetings of the provinces, under the 
several princes, for the regulation of their local concerns, the 
triennial Parliament or Congress of the whole at Tara, held 
under the monarch of the island, was the great legislature 
of the nation ? Are then the records all fictions ? Are 
their statements facts ? If they be facts, are they not evi- 
dence of civilization? Do you find even a claim to similar 
documents, a notion of similar institutions, amongst the uncivi- 
lized children of nature? Do you find learning held in 
estimation? Do you find laws recorded? Do you find a regu- 
larly constructed and a written language amongst barbarians ? 

I am no advocate for chivalry; but the existence of an 
order of knighthood is at least a proof of some progress in 
civilization. To omit many others which are equally well 
known, the existence from a very early period of the knights 
of the Red Branch in Ulster, cannot be called into question. 
The annals of their order, the history of their exploits, the 
names of their heroes, the time, the place, the other circum- 
stances, cannot all be baseless fabrics of the fancy, especially 
when we find history furnishing the facts with which those 
details are connected. The fable of Greece is the decoration 
of a fact. The magical metamorphosis of the Roman poet 
is but the sport of a fine fancy with a true substance. But 
in the accounts to which I allude facts are stated without 
decorations ; persons are introduced who are known to have 
existed ; and all the occurrences are such as require neither 
the power of the magician nor the performance of a miracle. 

Xor shall I here enter upon a disquisition to ascertain, 
whether at the decline of the order of the Ruddairc no, craobh 
ruadh, the members of that body established the Saxon 
association, which was the nucleus of the German Ritters, 
and one of the earliest exhibitions of chivalry upon the con- 
tinent of Europe. 

But there is one species of testimony peculiar to our 


nation. Greece raised tumults upon the first preaching of 
the Christian doctrine ; Rome persecuted the Apostles ; Judea 
was necessarily inimical to the annihilation of her own power, 
and resented the imputation of having slain the Son of God : 
these nations were civilized. Rome and Judea persecuted; 
Greece was little more than tumultuous. The pride and 
corruption of Rome led to her criminality; the obstinacy, 
with which Judea continued under her mistake, caused her 
persecution. But amongst the barbarous nations to whom the 
founders of our religion preached the faith, they had generally 
to pay their lives as the forfeit of their zeal. In their stub- 
born soil the seed of the word was to be watered by the 
tears of the sower, and the germ was to be nurtured with 
his blood, ere the plant could flourish. All the histories of 
nations that have embraced our doctrines, testify to the fact 
upon which I found my assertion. Ireland, however, fur- 
nishes a solitary and splendid exception. The Roman pro- 
consuls and praetors executed the orders of a Nero and of a 
Domitian, in Greece as well as in other parts of the world. 
India and Ethiopia, Bactria and Persia, were not behind the 
officers of the mighty fourth monarchy in their hatred to the 
name of Jesus and to the emblem of His cross. But in 
Ireland the soil was already prepared ; the island of sham- 
rocks bloomed in the verdure of cultivation ; the venom of 
irreligious persecution was not found in her fields. Neither 
the pride of the cruel despot, nor the frenzy of the barbarian, 
was the characteristic of her king or of her people. And 
though our country had the twinkling of science to adorn her 
firmament, yet, like the other nations, she sat in darkness 
and in the shadow of death; but her mild mythology, as far 
as we can discover, caught some rays from the sun of justice, 
which it imperfectly and weakly reflected upon her children. 
The day-star beamed upon them, and with expectation their 
eyes were turned to the reddening east ; perhaps the mists 
of their ocean served to reflect and to mellow the glories of 
the rising sun, and having been long accustomed to a little 
light, they were better prepared to endure and to examine 


that brilliant orb which now mounted above their horizon in 
the effulgent majesty of truth. 

"Whatever might have been the cause, the fact is indis- 
putable Ireland did not slay her apostles ; and when she 
was placed under the dominion of the Briton, her children 
Avere reproached with the imperfection of their calendar ; 
they were accused of being an irreligious people, because no 
national martyrs were found amongst their saints. Oh, how 
prophetic was the answer ! " That deficiency will soon be 
supplied, as the Pope has favored us with such excellent 

New scenes now begin to present themselves. \Ye come 
to the era of St. Patrick. I cannot say with precision what 
Avas the place of his birth. He is claimed as a child of 
Scotland; he is also claimed by Gaul. AVe cannot decide 
where we do not find sufficient evidence. His father's 
name was Calphurnius : from this it is probable he was of 
noble Roman extraction, for the wife of Julius Caesar was 
of this family. His mother's name was Conchessa; she was 
niece to the celebrated St. Martin, the Bishop of Tours. This 
would render it likely that the claim of France is not 
unfounded ; but the parents might have settled in North 
Britain. Their son Maun was born towards the close of the 
fourth century. At an early period of youth he was taken 
into Ireland as a captive, and was employed upon the moun- 
tains in charge of cattle. After a few years of heavy servi 
tude, he regained his liberty; but was, soon afterwards, 
reduced to his former situation. In his wretched durance, 
he learned much patience, and found the mode of subjugating 
his passions. He was again released, and travelled into 
Gaul. Here he was for a considerable time a disciple of 
his relative, the Bishop of Tours ; and he also imbibed much 
knowledge and piety at Auxerre, from the good and distin- 
guished prelate of that see. After having embraced the 
ecclesiastical state, he travelled into Italy, and at length, 
in the year 432, he received episcopal consecration ; wa* 
admitted into the patrician order, and appointed by Pope 


Celestine, who then filled the apostolic chair, to the charge 
of that island in which he had been formerly a captive, and 
for whose spiritual welfare he felt an ardent zeal, and was 
anxious to devote himself to a life of toil and sufferings. 
Henceforth, he is known onjy by the name of Patrick. 

Previous to his arrival, Christianity had made some little 
progress in the island. We have the accounts of St. Ailbe, 
founder of the see of Emly, which is now united to the 
archiepiscopal see of Cashel ; of St. Ivar in the west, some- 
where in the province of Connaught ; of St. Declan, in the 
country of the Decies, in the vicinity of Waterford ; and of 
St. Kieran, who founded the see of Ossory, in that place 
which was afterwards called and is still known as Kilkenny. 

But upon the arrival of Patrick, a new impulse was given 
to the missionary force, and the true religion began widely 
to diffuse itself. Much opposition, of course, was made by 
many to the labors of the apostle ; but he, well knowing that 
his doctrines were such as could bear to have their founda- 
tions closely examined, desired at once to lay them before 
the assembled wisdom, and judgment, and learning of the 
nation. He went to the Congress at Tara, and there openly 
preached a crucified God. The Druids and principal abettors 
of the Irish mythology disputed with him ; but he was 
chiefly thwarted by the machinations, and intrigues, and open 
resistance of Niall, the son of the monarch, whose influence 
was very extensive. So that the apostle did not, at this 
time, reap all the fruit upon which he had calculated. Yet 
were many persons brought to a deep sense of the folly of 
idolatry, and the necessity of serving God, who is a Spirit, 
in spirit and in truth. 

The only positive infliction, of which we have an account, 
is of one subsequent to this an imprisonment of the saint 
and his companions in irons, during about fourteen days. 
Being released from durance, he went southwards, and con- 
verted the King of Munster and his family; then going up 
towards the northwest, he brought over the King of Con- 
naught and his sons to the profession of the faith, and 


carried on the mission in Ulster with extraordinary success. 
In a short time churches rose upon the ruins of idols. 
Monasteries of men and women were everywhere founded, 
and the religion of Christ in a few years predominated 
throughout the island. "\Ve have no record of so sudden, 
so perfect, so general a conversion of any other nation. The 
apostle of Ireland sees his flock now too large for his super- 
intendence, and new bishoprics are created. His name is 
now held in esteem, and in that same assembly at Tara, 
where on a former occasion he was disappointed, he is 
covered with honors ; he is admitted to his seat, he is ranked 
amongst their most learned men, and made one of the judges 
to preserve the purity of their historical records. The place 
formerly held by the teachers of idolatry is given to the 
apostle of the Lamb. Ireland adds the gem of Roman 
literature to the treasures which she had long possessed, and 
her clergy and her laity are emulous of each other in making 
progress in the new field of learning to which they have 
been introduced. Her ancient music resounds in the temple 
of the living God, and her virgins lift the melody of their 
voices to celebrate, in grateful notes, the triumph of redemp- 
tion. O, land of my fathers ! how beauteous were your 
hills, how lovely were your valleys, how pure were your 
streams, in that day before the eye of heaven ! The hand 
of the spoiler did not desolate your fields ; the foot of the 
stranger was not upon the necks of your children ; the sword 
of the persecutor did not stain your temples with blood ; the 
torch of the incendiary did not consume the retreats of 
devotion ; the ruthless bigot had not as yet armed your sons 
for their mutual destruction ; but the conviction of the under- 
standing formed the basis of piety, and perfect charity exhib- 
ited the form of undefiled religion. The children of Ireland 
\vere in that day known to be disciples of our Lord Jesus, 
because they loved one another. The days of Patrick were 
prolonged, until, from his metropolitan eminence of Armagh, 
he beheld the land flourish in beauty, lovely in peace and 
decorated with virtue. About the year 496, he closed his 


eyes upon this mortal scene, in which he had been so 
eminently useful, and was buried at Down. " O, let my soul 
die the death of the just, and let my last end be like unto 

Ireland was destined ere long to be useful to the rest of 
Europe. Sarmatia soon began to pour her thousands upon 
the South. Eoman degeneracy had permitted Roman freedom 
to be lost. But the polish of the Augustan age was still 
upon society. Barbarism, it is true, had in some instances 
defaced it. It was still fashionable to be learned; and 
though the play of the punster had been substituted for 
the graces of the scholar ; and the tinsel of alliteration 
glared where wit had flashed and fancy sparkled; still, it 
was an age of knowledge, and the edge of the horizon glowed 
and the rich, full, mellow clouds retained much lustre, and 
exhibited brilliant tints as they caught and refracted the rays 
of departing luminaries. The fifth century of the Christian 
era was, in learning, like a fine evening within the tropics ; 
the short interval which is given to enjoy a glorious view 
between a bright day of burning calm and a night of thunder. 

Vandalic rage and Pannonian fury ravaged and desolated 
the West and the centre. Very quickly the Saracen swept 
the East, and Moslem infatuation tore from Africa what the 
Goth had spared. Shrouded in her thick mantle, murky 
Ignorance seemed to brood in stupid satisfaction over the 
widespread waste ; and, save where the sacred monastery had 
collected within its massy walls the wrecks of ancient genius, 
her empire was generally established. 

Ireland had been spared from this general deluge, and 
there, as in another ark, were preserved the means of 
re-establishing the civilized race of man. Our country had 
then acquired the title of Insula Sanctorum, from the piety 
of its people, and Imula Doctorum, from the learning of its 
sons. In the next age, then, we find her missionaries go 
forth to occupy prominent places in those regions which had 
been even before her in the faith. Italy places them in her 
sees, Switzerland acknowledges them as her apostles, Gaul 


testifies their labors, the Low Countries are the great scenes 
of their successful exertions, many German churches acknowl- 
edge Irishmen to be their founders, and, in conjunction with 
Britain, Ireland labors to enlighten Denmark, Sweden, and 
Norway; and Britain herself owes to Ireland much of her 
erudition, much of her sanctity. 

The venerable Bede testifies what we find recorded in our 
own histories ; but as it is fashionable to disbelieve all that 
has been written of Ireland, except by a calumniator of 
the people, I quote nothing upon the authority of any 
but strangers or enemies. Amongst them the testimony is 
uniform and uncontradicted, that in Ireland during those 
ages the schools were in the perfection of vigor and the 
highest credit ; that strangers from all parts of Europe 
flocked to them for information. So usual was this occur- 
rence, that when a man of literary note was discovered to 
have been absent, it was immediately concluded, as a matter 
of course, that he was gone to Ireland. Nor was this 
strange; for we are told that, not only were the lectures 
given gratuitously by the professors, but books were fur- 
nished, and sometimes even food and raiment provided, for 
the foreign youth who crowded to the asylum which our 
fathers opened for the genius of Europe. 

Amongst others, the British youth were by no means 
backward in availing themselves of the advantages thus 
placed within their reach. This is testified by their own 
historians. Armagh was one of the chief of those schools, 
and we can well credit the statement, that it contained at 
one time seven thousand students. 

AVlien the Britons had been subdued by the Saxons, and 
the Saxons assailed by the Danes, and the Danes again 
expelled by the Saxons, the state of learning and civiliza- 
tion in England was low indeed. During a long period of 
this time the island of our progenitors was still undisturbed, 
and the continent of Europe was laboring in the revival of 
letters. Our countrymen had founded the University of 
Paris, and were teaching in many of the principal schools 
of the continent. 


Amongst others of the principal English who were educated 
in Ireland was Alfred, the father of English liberty. In our 
schools he was trained to letters; in Eome and in Ireland he 
imbibed his principles in legislation, and we may therefore 
fairly claim our share in the spirit of the British Constitu- 
tion, which, though much injured, still is a fine remnant of 
what once was good ; a system, the general principles of 
which are excellent, but the administration of which is 
corrupt ; and from which was taken that theory upon which 
the American mind has so successfully employed itself, as to 
have developed its benefits, lopped off its excrescences, and 
exhibited, in a degree of comparative perfection, a system 
whose origin we are proud to trace to spots with which our 
apostle was so intimately connected. 

Ireland, during those ages, not only preserved the religion 
and learning of her own children, but also from her stock 
communicated much to what then became the civilized world. 

Our country was not, however, destined to continue in 
that eminent station which she had so long held. Her shores 
had never been subject to the Eoman. But another nation, 
apparently more despicable, but really more formidable, began 
to issue from the Baltic. Normans occupied the coast of 
France. Danes drove the Saxons from their settlements in 
England. Their objects at first were only plunder and devas- 
tation ; they next took up positions on the coast, and then 
aimed at possessing the dominion of the country. The head 
of the venomous destroyer was frequently lopped off; but 
the fens of Lerna never nurtured a more multiplying antag- 
onist than the defeated and yet conquering barbarian of the 
North. He sat down in France, he occupied England, he 
assailed Ireland. Often repulsed, he yet returned, and at 
length had considerable possessions and extensive sway in our 
country. Our national monarchs, however, continued to rule. 
It is not my province to dwell upon their deeds of arms, nor 
is it in my power, without unreasonably encroaching upon 
your time, to allude even to those facts which shine so 
brightly emblazoned upon our scroll of history. I shall touch 


for a moment, however, upon two, which are the first that 
catch my eye. 

Successful in more than fifty pitched battles against the 
destroyers of. his country, the enemies of his religion, the 
giants of rapine, of lust, and of cruelty, see the aged king 
of Ireland heading his troops on the memorable plains of 
Clontarf. With their collected forces, urged to obstinacy by 
despair, and wrathful in the fury of their pride and the dis- 
appointment of their ambition, the Scandinavian chiefs prepare 
their lines for the encounter. Sitric closes his ranks, inspires 
hope, points out rewards, promises possessions, exhorts to 
revenge, shows the plume of the victor's glory within the 
grasp of his troops, lifts his banner, sounds his trumpet, 
and shouts defiance. 

The Momonian kerns steadily advance the Connaught 
galloglasses briskly charge the invaders ; it is indeed a day 
of blood and of carnage ; but the pride of the Dane has 
been smitten ; and though patriotism and virtue must rejoice 
nt the issue, still they will permit humanity to weep over the 
bloody field. 

It was on Good Friday the anniversary of the Christian 
atonement. The venerable Brian Borhoime thus addressed 
the heir of his crown : " My son, I leave victory in your 
hands. Secure the independence of your country, and pre- 
serve its honor. But, whilst flushed with success, do not 
permit unnecessary destruction ; save the vanquished, and 
restrain the spirit of revenge. A God of mercy has been our 
protector. He who bled on Calvary has shed the lustre 
of glory on our harp. Frequently have His mercies been 
extended to us since the blessed Patrick first published His 
name in Tara ; but never, my son, has He been more boun- 
tiful than on this occasion, on the anniversary of that day 
when, by His own blood, He took away sin from His 
people, He has enabled us to wash away pollution from our 
shores with the blood of the oppressors of our country. I 
go, my son, in the name of my people, to return thanks for 
His benefits. I go alone and unarmed, to the foot of that 


cross which I have erected in my tent, there to pour out my 
soul in gratitude, and to discharge those great duties of 
religion which the solemnity of the day requires, and which 
the calculating but mistaken enemy of our religion compelled 
us to defer. To you, my son, I leave my army, my blessing, 
and my instruction to remember mercy in the day of tri- 
umph ; remember the glories of our forefathers, remember 
the injunctions of our God." 

Whilst we venerate the union of martial prowess and 
Christian devotion in the monarch of Munster, shall we be 
accused of introducing fiction instead of history, when we 
weep over the immolation of the grayheaded warrior, at the 
foot of that same cross, by three fugitive assassins of the 
vanquished host? And though they fell under the swords 
of his family, who arrived in sufficient time for their punish- 
ment, though not for his safety, shall we be sneered at, if, 
after the lapse of eight centuries, our tear of sorrow testifies 
our lasting affection, and our prayer for his rest be sent up 
to our great Redeemer, as a supplement to the chanting of 
the Requiem upon the plains of Kilmainham and in the 
Abbey of Swords? 

Whilst the self-devotion of a Curtius occupies the thoughts 
and claims the admiration of the reader of Roman history, 
shall the heroes of Ireland be forgotten? Much indeed which 
sober reflection would censure, and the dispassionate judge 
must condemn, will be permitted to him who warmly feels, 
and is forced by circumstances to decide and to act under 
the influence of enthusiasm. Yet how irrational and unmean- 
ing is the act of Curtius, when compared with the conduct 
of Failve Loingscach, the commander of the Irish fleet, who 
opposed the Danish navy? Long, and bloody, and obstinate 
was the fight, and doubtful was the issue, when the tug of 
war appeared ready to snap the strength of either force. 
Failve saw, and remarked to those who surrounded him, that 
almost the entire valor, and energy, and perseverance of his 
opponents was owing to the judicious bravery of their com- 
mander, and that, if he were removed, the Irish navy would 


have an easy triumph. In an instant the leading vessels are 
side by side ; grasping his opponent in his arms, the Irish 
chieftain leaps into the ocean, and like the encounter of the 
finny monarchs of the deep was the combat of the champions, 
till, clasped in the embraces of 'each other and of death, they 
sunk for ever ; and the strings of the harp gave the note of 
lamentation upon the breeze which flouted the green flag in 
the imperfect triumph of its joyless victory. But why should 
I dwell upon these themes ? It is true that 

"The sun has grown old, since Clontarf's bloody wave, 
Saw them sleep the sweet sleep of the patriot brave.'' 

It is true, that nations, which were not then even in 
embryo, now rise and rule the destinies of the world. But 
we do not like to be cheated out of our recollections. It is 
true, that tongues, which then were the rough and discordant 
combination of dissonant jargons, have since been made 
smooth by use ; but still we love the sound of our fathers' 
voices, even though that sound should be, as it is, but the 
imperfect, imitative echo which can be gathered from the 
ruins of the tomb, and which issues from mouths that have 
been filled with the dust of ages. These, it is true, are 
but delusive comforts; but how many of our comforts are 
delusions ! And if the delusion be innocent, why shall we 
have our eyes opened to a painful, to a remediless reality? 

Yes, the days of Ireland's glory have passed away, the 
epoch of her misery commences. The barbarians, who had 
been thus expelled, had plucked away the foundations of 
national prosperity; they had been driven from the land, but 
not before they had crushed religior, destroyed morality, and 
torn asunder the bonds of union which held the monarchs 
together. After fever had raged and the crisis had taken 
place, life still continued, health was established, but the 
constitution was dreadfully reduced. The restoration of 
Church government was commenced and considerable progress 
was making under St. Laurence O'Toole in Dublin and St. 
Malachy in Armagh; but the profligacy against the Prince 


of Breffiny led to disunion, and a handful of English 
adventurers aiding the disaffected and recreant convict, in 
the jealousy of the people, and the quarrels of the princes, 
that edifice of national prosperity which the Danes had 
undermined, fell amidst the struggles of its inmates and the 
trifling assault of a few strangers. 

Oh, let it be to you a lesson of caution. May the sad fate 
of my country create in you vigilance to detect, and firmness 
to restrain, those ambitious and immoral individuals who 
would divide a people, that they may build up their own 
fortunes with the fragments of national union. 

I do not wish, my friends, to excite in you, nor to revive 
in myself, those feelings of pain and indignation which the 
subsequent history of Ireland is but too w r cll calculated to 
create. The Danes commenced the destruction of its records 
and the system of its disorganization. Other more successful 
and more persevering enemies were now their successors. 
It was asked by a poet subsequently to this epoch, Cur lyra 
percussa, funestas edidit sonores? And it was well answered, 
that the sound of the national music should be that of 
mournful melody, because, in the day of her disaster, her 
liberties were cloven down, her children were devoted to 
slavery, she was seated in the dust, her glory was tarnished, 
her face bedewed with tears, the testimonies of her greatness 
were torn away and destroyed, she was sprinkled with 
obloquy, even sucklings were brought to laugh at her wo 
and to mock at her affliction. A proud neighbor, who had 
plundered her of her jewels, flung the garb of folly on her 
shoulders and pointed her out to the derision of the world. 
How could her harp be tuned to mirth and revelry? Well 
might her children answer as did God's chosen people of 
old : " Upon the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and we 
wept, when we remembered Sion. Upon the willows in the 
midst thereof we hung up our harps ; because there they 
who led us captive asked us for the words of our songs, 
and they who led us away said, Sing to us a hymn of the 
canticles of Sion. How shall we sing the song of the Lord 


in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, may my 
right hand be forgotten : may my tongue cleave to my jaws 
if I do not remember thee if I do not place Jerusalem 
as the beginning of my joy." Yes, my friends, human 
nature is the same in every age and throughout the world. 
The Israelite in Babylon, and the Irishman in his own land 
of streams, equally felt the hand of the oppressor. I shall 
not continue. But, how could the music of my country not 
be mournful melody? 

I shall not dwell upon the misrepresentations of hired 
traducers which have been substituted for our history. I 
shall not remind you of the horrible falsehoods which have 
been deliberately given to the world by the enemies of our 
fathers. I shall not tell of the legalized plunder, of the per- 
secution of centuries, by which it was sought to change the 
religion of a nation, and by which the rights of conscience 
were destroyed by those who proclaimed themselves to the 
world as the only supporters of those rights. We, my 
friends, differ very much in our religious doctrines, yet we 
live in the harmony of affection, each respecting the rights 
of his friend, and claiming for himself what he concedes 
to his brother. We can weep over the crimes of those 
who have ruined our country, and we can learn wisdom 
from the exhibition of their havoc, and better appreciate 
the blessings of which we are here made partakers. 

To one fact only will I briefly advert, and it stands 
unparalleled, as far as I can perceive, in the records of 
of public perfidy. Who does not anticipate the recital of 
the breach of faith by William and Mary? After many 
struggles in our unfortunate country, when all the pros- 
pects for the hunted Catholics of Ireland were confined to 
whatever opening the force of their army could make, and 
when that army, after some of the vicissitudes of war, 
bravely defended the citadel of Limerick, and when the 
prudent Ginkle saw that the issue was not so certain as 
the sanguine advocates of his party had promised, he agreed 
upon terms of capitulation, which were confirmed by the 


person then called to fill the British throne, and by 
his queen. By this agreement the Catholic garrisons were 
delivered up, the army was disbanded, and William was 
acknowledged as their lawful king, but lie in return was 
to leave them unmolested upon the score of religion, and 
to confirm in the possession of their estates those who had 
not been previously plundered on account of their faith, 
under the pretext of rebellion. 

A generous people, under the impression that the royal 
word was sacred and the national guarantee of a public 
treaty was inviolable, gave up their posts, laid down their 
arms, and prepared to worship God, and to cultivate their 
lands ; when a British parliament pretended that the king 
had exceeded his powers, and persecuted and worried the 
defenceless and betrayed people who mistook its character ; 
and yet this parliament modestly charged its deluded victims 
with holding as a principle that no faith was to be kept with 
heretics ! Dark and more dark are the tints in which the 
times must be painted. Let us not too closely view the 
picture. Oh, well do I recollect the relations of my aged 
countrymen, when, seated on their knees, I listened to the 
tales of their sufferings, and the reality of the evils which 
they endured from the men who claimed pre-eminence in 
civilized society, exceeded the descriptions of romance. The 
highly colored tints of the poet, who writes to make his 
readers weep, are light and vapid when contrasted with the 
glowing streaks of oppression which may be traced on the 
humbled children of Ireland. How often have I wept at 
the escapes and the endurance of my grandsires ! Their lot 
was humble, because they professed the religion of their 
progenitors. Never, never whilst memory holds her seat 
shall I forget the story of the woes of my father, which 
with tears he related to me to prove my comparative happi- 
ness ; for he narrowly escaped the fate of a felon, because, 
without changing his religion, he dared to explore the 
vestibule of science ; l and yet the people of Ireland 

i Vide MEMOIR. 


are accused of being ignorant ! Oh, my friends, what 
is that policy which barbarizes, and then reproaches you 
with barbarism? It is true that, in comparison with 
my progenitors of a few centuries, my trials have been 
nothing. But, thank God, I at length breathe the air of a 
freeman, and no one reproaches me with the causes of my 
glory that I am sprung from a country which was civilized 
before others were discovered ; that my religion is coeval 
with Christianity, coextensive with civilization. 

How many of her sons did this desolate mother send out 
to signalize themselves upon the continent of Europe during 
this lengthened persecution. How much literature did she 
preserve in her bogs, on hc-r mountains, and in her morasses, 
notwithstanding the laws which were enacted against learning, 
unless at the sacrifice of the creed of her people. Thus 
was she glorious even in the day of her dejection. 

But a moment is found for the mind to rest without 
torture in the examination. Let us, however, keep to our 
object, and before we come to that moment, let us draw the 
conclusions, and establish our moral. O, ter quaterque beati, 
may we pronounce the sons of America not for having 
fallen under their walls without having witnessed the ruin 
of their country but for enjoying all the blessings of 
freedom without having tasted the bitterness of slavery, and 
without having experienced the afflictions of persecution. 
O, nimium felices si sua bona norint. They do not value 
the mighty benefits, the want of which they have never 
experienced. Let them see an island rich in soil and 
blooming in culture, yet a prey to every species of tyranny 
and despotism, filled with crime and a charnel-house from 
the executioner ; these are the lamentable consequences of 
sectional and sectarian broils; the force of her people is 
broken, their energies are paralyzed, and they are the prey 
of a despicable oligarchy, because they permit themselves 
to be foolishly excited and wickedly played off against each 
other. Oh, tell it to you/ children and to your children's 
children, and let them transmit the moral to your latest 


descendants. My country has been ruined because her people 
were parcelled into parties, and the parties were like the 
offspring of the dragon's teeth, armed for mutual destruction. 
The balmy air of charity surrounds and invigorates us here. 
Oh, may it never be tainted ! 

But this folly could not last forever, and the human 
mind, left to itself, would soon trace the causes, and the 
human heart, unbiassed, would yearn for their removal. 
The progress of nature must be the same in Ireland as else- 
where, and men of understanding and of honesty saAV the 
causes and were anxious to remove them. The Presbyterians 
of the North, in the latter part of the last century, cherished 
in their bosoms the flame of patriotism and the glow of 
humanity. Ulster nobly showed that Ireland, uninfluenced 
by external causes, would still rise to her proper place, and 
never did a more cheering light break in upon a benighted 
people than that which those brave men then created. Many 
distinguished members of the Established Church also, as far 
as the private exertions of individuals could redeem the 
character of a body, did try to aid 'their afflicted Catholic 
countrymen, and thus rescue themselves from that obloquy 
which the conduct of the united Church and State had flung 
upon the British nation. 

A. host of intellect was marshalled under the banner of 
national feeling. Never till then was such a galaxy of genius 
exhibited in so small a portion of the firmament. Never 
before did so many brilliant stars glow so conspicuously 
distinguishable amidst such a flood of light. The place of 
a standing army was supplied by the patriotic volunteers of 
Ireland. Dungannon seemed to be the fountain whence 
salutary and refreshing streams of pure principle were to- 
flow through the land and to give health to the nation. 
The mighty mass began to move, and that which had become 
putrescent from- stagnation was becoming purified as it was 
agitated ; the impulse was communicated to the very citadel 
of corruption, and even what was called the Irish parlia- 
ment was forced for once to speak the voice of the Irish 


nation. It was too soon, however, to detect the falsehoods 
which had so long been circulated as history; there was 
neither time nor inclination as yet to examine into the 
calumnies which had been sedulously propagated against 
the creed and the principles of the Roman Catholics ; but 
though they were by many good but deceived men thought 
to be unfit for liberty and undeserving of kindness, still, 
even common humanity shrunk back from the glimpse of 
their degradation and afflictions, and men who had during 
the greater portion of two centuries been treated with the 
most unparalleled barbarity, were almost goaded into bar- 
barism. No wonder that the good men who were inclined 
to acts of kindness should almost believe the fictitious 
atrocities of former times to have been facts, when they met 
with suspicion and reserve where they sought for confidence 
that they might be beneficent; when they observed that the 
hand which they unbound sometimes grasped a weapon of 
defence. Nor can it be to us a matter of surprise that a 
being who has been frequently deceived to his serious injury 
by persons of a particular class, should be cautious of con- 
fiding in any individual of that body, how pure soever may 
be his motive for seeking reliance, and how beneficent soever 
may be his intention, and however fair may be - the appear- 
ances. Neither can we be astonished that he, who has been 
sorely distressed, and is still under mitigated persecution, 
should sometimes seek to retaliate even upon a man who, 
though less cruel than his predecessor, is yet unjust. Thus, 
the very natural conduct of men, who had been almost 
brutalized by oppression, too often leads the unreflecting to 
believe that they must have been originally barbarians. And 
he who would justify the oppression will very naturally seize 
upon so plausible a pretext for its justification, and will 
forge testimony to prove the pretended necessity of the 
original crime. The mind is carried away in the vortex of 
some passion, in the midst of those scenes. It is next to 
impossible but to belong to a party. But here you are fitted 
for calm and rational investigation. Here is to be found an 


inquiring mind, a patience of research, a solicitude for knowl- 
edge ; and, although hitherto America has been generally 
deceived in its taking the history of our country from the 
writings of its enemies, still I cherish the hope, and I feel 
pleased in the anticipation, that the people of this Union 
will be the first to do justice to the land of my fathers ; for 
there certainly does exist, if I be not greatly deceived, a 
strong sympathy between the land of my birth and the land 
of my adoption, and never was mind better fitted for dispas- 
sionate research after truth, than that which I meet with 
every day. 

But to leave this digression. In 1782 Ireland almost 
"became a nation. There, unfortunately, the interest of the 
people was not that of the government, and we observe the 
cortsequence. The volunteers are separated ; some of the 
leading talent is purchased. A new scene, however, comes 
under our observation. The Synod of Ulster is pure; never 
in a body was there found more true patriotism than in the 
body of the Presbyterian clergy of Ireland of that day. 
Possessing the confidence of their flocks, and standing aloof 
from the Castle of Dublin and its contaminating influence, 
they were feared and respected; they loved the country, 
they took pity upon the oppressed Catholic, they were joined 
l>y many of the best, and bravest, and most virtuous lay- 
members of the Established Church, they gave the right hand 
of fellowship to the Catholic, and they formed a brotherhood 
of Irishmen of all religious persuasions. These United 
Irishmen intended to have done their country service. The 
Hon. Robert Stuart, subsequently better known as Lord 
Castlereagh, was their first chairman. This holy alliance 
should be broken up, or the people of Ireland must be no 
longer oppressed. Their objects were simple, and substan- 
tial, and just, and constitutional to obtain a fair represen- 
tation of the people in the House of Commons, and to 
put an end to persecution on the score of religion. The 
attainment of these objects would have healed the evils of 
the country, but would not have suited the views of the 


oligarchy which had long been the bane of the kingdom. 
The Presbyterians were told that, as being Protestants, they 
should receive some aid towrrJs the support of their clergy, 
and the regium donuin by which the ministers were made 
dependent upon the bounty of the crown instead of the 
benevolence of the people, broke down their fine spirit of 
patriotic independence, and made them an appendage of the 
British throne a body that must be obsequious to the 
executive, or be in indigence. The Catholic aristocracy, con- 
sisting of some peers and baronets, and a few of the old 
proprietors, who almost miraculously had preserved, through 
a. thousand perils, some remnants of their estates, were 
easily brought over, the principal bishops were cajoled, 
and flattered, and deceived, and the elective franchise and a 
few other benefits were conferred upon the Catholics, and 
the torch of religious discussion was lit up amongst the 
people that they might be divided and governed; and the 
same Lord Castlereagh was, on the part of the government, 
the man who principally regulated this destruction. Thus, 
again, by sectarian hatred were the hopes of the nation 
destroyed. I confine myself to this moral. This is enough. 
Here we have religious differences ; but here we freely 
discuss religious topics in language respectful to the feelings 
of each other ; here each follows the conviction of his own 
mind, and is accountable only at the tribunal of that God 
who will judge us all, and to whom only we stand or fall, 
and He alone can clearly decide who is obstinately or care- 
lessly wrong, and who is innocently and invincibly ignorant 
of His truth, and His justice requires the condemnation of 
the former, but His mercy protects the latter. Whilst we 
sedulously inquire, and freely discuss, we must leave to Him 
His exclusive prerogative, that of deciding upon the merit 
and the fate of individuals. He who, positively certain of 
his adhesion to truth, would call down fire from heaven 
upon unbelieving cities or obstinate individuals, knows not 
by what spirit he is led. It is the pride of human passion, 
and not the ardor of religious zeal. Persecution makes hypo- 


crites ; to hate a person even for infidelity is a crime 
against charity, and to grasp the sword to punish for unbelief 
is to usurp the seat of the judging Son of Man. I do 
not know of any other to whom that commission has been 
given. No person who wants charity will enter heaven, 
and to usurp the exclusive office of the Redeemer is not 
the best ground on which a claim of salvation can rest. I 
possess evidence of truth, but I cannot, without being able 
to inspect the mind of him who differs from me, possess 
evidence that he knows himself to be in opposition to truth. 
Free discussion and difference of doctrine are perfectly com- 
patible with affection and charity. But hatred, and religious 
discord, and persecution have destroyed many nations and 
ruined many souls. Let us learn wisdom from the misfor- 
tunes of my country. 

One little remnant yet is to be found of what approaches 
to independence. It is like the solitary column which lifts 
its capital in the midst of the ruins of what Avas once a 
splendid temple. You may judge of what the entire had 
been, by inspecting the proportions and the workmanship 
of this relic, and surveying the extent of the fragments by 
which it is surrounded. When all was perfect, the parts 
gave mutual support, and the edifice combined strength and 
beauty. Now, this unprotected piece is blown upon by every 
wind and must bear the brunt of every storm, and, indeed, 
it must have been originally well constructed to survive in 
its isolated grandeur. Do not blame me when I tell you, 
I feel proud at saying, this is the body of the Catholic 
clergy of Ireland. 

These men have always shared the afflictions of the people 
in a twofold proportion. From the Archbishop of Armagh, 
who numbers his predecessors up to St. Patrick, to the 
youngest priest with whom I was associated, I speak what 
I know, when I assert that they were enlightened, liberal, 
and virtuous, and that, although they felt it to be their 
duty to preserve th,e peace of the land, and to soothe the 
irritation of the people, they also felt deeply for the wrongs 


of their country. They withstood the insult of mockery, the 
superciliousness of privileged petulance, the rude ignorance 
of a saucy squirearchy, the allurements of those who proffered 
bribes, and the threats of those who were in power. Once, 
and once only, was the apostolic simplicity of a portion of 
the bishops almost overreached by the wiles of the destroyer 
of his country. Lord Castlereagh offered to relieve the 
people from the burden of supporting their clergy, and 
requested to know whether in return the government could 
obtain security that none but loyal men should be promoted 
to bishoprics, so that, through the superintendence of such 
men as might be safely relied upon, the loyalty of the whole 
clerical body might be confirmed. The four archbishops and 
six bishops, who were trustees of the college which had then 
been just established, were thus led to say that they con- 
sidered the proposition one which was reasonable and which 
ought to be acceded to. Unused to the chicane of politicians, 
or to the duplicity of courtiers, they judged of the honesty 
of others by the standard of their own unsuspecting integrity, 
and the wily statesman, having obtained their assent to a 
principle of concession, suffered the whole transaction to lie 
as if unobserved and forgotten, until in due time, upon the 
pressure of the petitions of the people for their rights, a 
hint was given that, if this principle was carried into 
practice, and the king allowed a negative upon the appoint- 
ment of bishops, some little new indulgence would be 
granted, and if a secretary of state was made the organ of 
communication ' between the bishops and the Pope, perhaps 
a little more might be added. The bishops, the priests, 
and the people, horrified at the proposal, exclaimed with 
one voice against the mischief which they now saw impend- 
ing. The former concession of the principle was pleaded, 
but the good men protested that they had been deceived. 
Thus was the country agitated by the question of the 
veto and the arrangements, and the people again embroiled 
upon a question of religion, that they might be divided 
and oppressed. 


Well do I remember the history of this contest, for 
though my place was insignificant, I had my post in the 
field, and it was on the side of the people. The clergy 
joined their bishops in declaring that they would subsist 
upon the voluntary donations of their flocks, rather than 
be enriched to the manifest danger of the purity of their 
religion, and with the jealousy of the people. The people 
exclaimed : " You may regulate religious concerns as you 
will, that is the province of the bishops ; but the instant 
you accept a pension from the government you forfeit our 
confidence, for you become the slaves of the crown, spies 
upon your flocks. Look to Ulster ; see what the rcyium 
donum has done. We have but a small remnant of the 
liberties of our country, you are as yet uncontaminated ; 
every body which the government has come in contact of 
friendship with has been polluted ; touch it and we separate 
from you. We are jealous of your virtue, we love what has 
been left of our freedom." This was their language; this 
is called agitation. As yet, thank God, this clergy and this 
people have withstood the storm. But this relic of the 
national fabric is daily assailed. May God protect and 
preserve it; for it yet shows in a pious and patriotic priest- 
hood what Ireland might have been. May God long preserve 
the liberties of America from any union of any Church with 
any State ! In any country, with any religion, it is an 
unnatural increase of the power of the executive against 
the liberties of the people. 

No wonder that from a country like this the emigrant 
should arrive upon your shores, with his feelings sore and 
his passions excited and burning with recollections. He 
loves to remain near those spots which his fathers have 
inhabited during centuries, spots which are blended with the 
reminiscences of childhood, with the joys of his youth ; those 
spots upon which his friends are still found. Oh ! he loves 
his country and his friends, but he cannot endure to bo 
scourged with scorpions by strangers who have been placed 
as his taskmasters ; and he cannot banish all his recollections 


even amidst the endearing attachments which he makes in a 
land of freemen. 

It will then be permitted to us this day to enjoy the 
melancholy gratification of contemplating the former greatness 
of our country, and going back in spirit and affection to the 
laud of our fathers, to the island of shamrocks, to the 
emerald gem of the ocean, for 

'Though glory be gone, and though hope fade away, 
Yet thy name, loved Erin, shall live in our songs; 

Not even in the hour when this heart is most gay, 
Shall it lose the remembrance of thee and thy wrongs. 

The stranger shall hear us lament on his plains, 
The sigh of our harp shall be sent o'er the deep, 

Till thy masters themselves, as they rivet thy chains, 
Shall pause at the song of their captive and weep. 


IT is related that St. John the Evangelist was once 
observed by a hunter, amusing himself with a bird. The 
astonishment manifested in the countenance of the observer, 
who remained gazing intently, was soon noticed by the 
apostle, and he inquired for its cause. " I am struck with 
amazement," replied the hunter, "to see you, who are so 
much esteemed for wisdom and sanctity, employed in so 
trivial an occupation! How unlike is your present position 
to that which you are generally supposed to hold?" The 
saint remarked that his observer's bowstring was loose, and 
inquired why he did not keep it tight. " Were I to do so," 
said the hunter, "my bow would loose its elasticity, and 
soon become useless." " The human mind," observed the 
evangelist, "is like your instrument; it would be destroyed 
by perpetual tension." Whatever position, then, it may be 
your lot to occupy in the employments of the world, you 
will need to apply the energies of your mind to the proper 
discharge of its duties. The grave study of the law, the 
deep reflections of medical science, the absorbing cares of 
political life, the intense application to business, the deep 
interest of your family concerns, your sympathy for friends, 
and a thousand other importunate demands will draw largely 
upon your time and upon your feelings, and will compel 
exertion; but you will also feel the necessity of relaxation. 
So that, in fact, its regulation is one of the most important 
concerns of life ; and the neglect of its arrangement is preg- 

>An address delivered before the Demosthenian and Phi Kappa Societies of 
Franklin College, Athens, Georgia, August 5, 1810. 



nant with the most dangerous consequences to youth and to 

Some persons, at an early age, under pretext of relaxation, 
contract habits which become in after life the sources of 
their ruin. It is one of the misfortunes of our nature, that 
they who have been the victims of crime are almost neces- 
sarily thereafter its abettors, and this not merely upon the 
well-observed principle which spreads its influence over every 
ago and every nation, Solamen miscris soeios habuisse doloris ; 
there is not only a malicious satisfaction in knowing and 
exhibiting that we are not without associates in our degra- 
dation and our depravity ; but they who have exhausted 
their own springs of indulgence in dissipation, feel it 
necessary to have companions who yet possess a supply 
that will suffice for both. At a time, then, when experience 
lias not brought caution, when passion is strong, when the 
desire of novelty is great, when, under the alluring names 
of liberty and independence, wholesome restraints arc easily 
laid aside, and the buoyant spirit of youth loves indulgence, 
cunning self-interest frequently bestows the name of necessary 
recreation upon those pursuits which degrade and destroy, 
and thus seduces the generous and the inexperienced into 
habits which are easily formed, but which it requires time, 
labor, and perseverance to overcome. This is one of the 
most copious sources of intoxication, of licentiousness, of 
idleness, and of dissipation ; by these the peace, the honor, 
the property, and the respectability of families are destroyed, 
and they, who might have been the ornaments of their State 
and the benefactors of their race, sink dishonored to an early 
grave, occasioning grief and drawing tears from their survi- 
vors, not so much for their departure, but because of their 
havoc and their disgrace. 

The relaxations of uncivilized nations are for the most 
part characterized by their vulgarity, their cruelty, or their 
licentiousness ; and as men are raised upon the scale of 
refinement, their amusements generally lose many of these 
marks. The cultivation of literature is one of the ordinary 


and natural means of thus elevating man, and hence it 
lias been, at an early period, well observed : Ingcnuas 
dldlcisse fidelitcr artes cmmoiit mores ncc sinit csse feros. The 
boisterous whoop, the rude familiarity, the dangerous jostle, 
the exhibition of grotesque mummery, the casting of ridicule 
upon our fellows, or exhibiting them in awkward predica- 
ments in the view of others, are, to many persons of vulgar' 
feelings, sources of infinite amusement; and they who thus 
delight in the annoyance of their associates are persons who 
would, for similar treatment in respect to themselves, seek 
a marked revenge. 

Our feelings are not unfrequently put to unpleasant trials 
at even reading the description of the tortures inflicted upon 
their prisoners, by savage tribes, and the enjoyment which 
the suffering affords to the cruel executioner. Nor docs 
history confine the recital to the deeds of such rude hordes. 
The arena of the amphitheatre witnessed the shouts of the 
delighted multitude, whilst its sand drank up the expiring 
gladiator's blood, or yet exposed the reeking fragments of 
the half-devoured bodies of Christian victims which the beasts 
of prey tore for the entertainment of their no less savage 
beholders. Surely I need not draw your attention to the 
excitement of beasts and even birds, and the arming them 
for mutual destruction, to afford the opportunity of relaxation 
and enjoyment, united to the indulgence of their love of 
gambling, to men said to be respectable. What a spectacle 
to behold! A man whose mind is cast in the most perfect 
mould, and upon whose character and conduct a lovely 
family has rested all its hope, to whom a vicinage looks for 
its weight and its respectability, forgetting his proper place 
and madly risking the means of fortune and of fame for 
himself and for others upon the superior instinct for destruc- 
tion or the fortuitous exposure or activity of a poor bird, 
thus unnaturally excited and thus wickedly armed ! Do 
these cruel sports add dignity to our nature ? Do they 
confer benefits upon society? I shall not speak of the more 
criminal and more destructive and degrading dissipation to 


which idleness conducts, to which excess stimulates, and 
for which the other indulgences usually prepare. How 
extensive is the blight that has been produced by their 
united influence ! 

Relaxation is necessary, but it should be rational. It 
ought to be suited to renew our powers without destroying 
our morals or impairing our standing in society. And 
surely no one will pretend that our faculties are improved, 
or that our powers of mind or body are renewed, preserved 
or invigorated by the indulgence in pursuits which necessarily 
demoralize. Such habits not only relax the vigor of our 
mental faculties, but they undermine even the bodily powers. 
There is an inherent respect and love for virtue in the 
human mind, which even the most depraved course of vice 
cannot utterly destroy, and which no power of sophistry can 
delude. I have conversed in his dungeon with the outcast 
of society, and whilst he braved the scorn of the world and 
affected to despise its condemnation, he avowed that he could 
not extinguish the glimmerings of conscience nor be insen- 
sible to its reproof. And whilst in defiance of mankind he 
lifted himself in the bad spirit of unyielding pride even to 
blaspheme the God of heaven and to deny the sanctions 
of virtue, his heart quailed at his own misconduct, whilst 
he sought to make the recklessness of despair pass for the 
courage that accompanies the convictions of truth. Thus it 
is that the agonies of self-reproach consume the force of the 
understanding, enervate the soul, and drive the criminal from 
the calm pursuit of truth and the industrious collection of 
knowledge, to seek for protection against his inward monitor, 
by recurring to the distractions of external dissipation and 
sometimes even that he may obstruct the power of memory 
by plunging into stupefaction. Hence it is that all writens 
upon science, and especially when they treat of its applica- 
bility to the improvement of others, lay down as a maxim, 
that its votary should be virtuous, if he would be successful. 
And indeed what is thus said of science is true of every 
other useful occupation. The attainment of success requires 


that the unbroken powers of the soul should be directed to 
secure it; but this cannot be the case where they are 
prostrated by remorse or impaired by irregular habits. If 
is true, that rare instances of partial success are occasionally 
found as exceptions to this position. They are, however, not 
only exceptions, but they are, in general, fearful examples, 
which show us how some mighty mind, gathering the shat- 
tered forces which it still retains, may in one splendid effort 
achieve its object by its own destruction; just as the com- 
mander, who has prodigally wasted the lives of many of his 
gallant soldiers by his indiscretion, finding himself driven 
to his last entrenchment, determines at least to save the city 
which he covers, and marshalling the fragments of his once 
powerful host, urges them by word and by example to one 
noble act of devotion. The assault is desperate and the 
result is doubtful ; until, at length, the protected city comes 
forth to weep over the remains of those, who, victims not 
only to valor, but to wanton waste, perished on the very 
field where they annihilated a foe which they could at an 
earlier period have subdued with a trifling loss, and having 
saved their country might have survived to receive its 
gratitude and to share in its prosperity. 

I need not enter upon any elucidation of the well-known 
fact that the close union of the mind and body induces a 
palpable injury to the mental powers as a consequence 
of the derangement of the bodily functions. Witness the 
ravings from fever, the dejection of the dyspeptic, the languor 
of the consumptive, the stupor of the dissipated. Nor is it 
requisite that I should even advert to the notorious effects 
of immorality or dissipation upon the human frame. 

To me it has always appeared a great mistake to imagine 
that the preservation of political equality required the 
destruction of distinctions in society. To secure the first, 
which is of primary importance in our republics, I conceive 
it to be sufficient that each individual shall be upon* an 
equality with his fellow-citizens in the eye of the law ; so 
that the rule by which his property, his peace, and his rights 


are preserved, shall be the same which preserves them for 
every other ; that he shall be liable to punishment only for 
'those acts that are punishable in another, and be tried and 
convicted only by a similar process. Moreover, that every 
citizen shall be on a level in the eye of the constitution ; 
that is, that each has only the same burdens to bear, the 
same duties to perform, and has, according to his qualifica- 
tion, an equal claim to posts of honor or of emolument 
as any other. In a word, that no one shall have the 
prerogative, that no class shall be privileged. This in my 
view forms the extent to which our equality should go. To 
attempt forcing it beyoncj these limits would be not only 
ridiculous and impracticable, but the effort would be destruc- 
tive. Can you establish an equality of property? Suppose 
you were able to effect it to-day, how long will it continue? 
"Will all be alike industrious ? will all be equally intelligent ? 
will all be equally successful? Will all be alike parsimo- 
nious, or lavish, or equally burdened with families, visited 
by sickness, swept by floods, or stricken by lightning? You 
cannot prevent the existence of classes of rich and poor and 
of comfortable. Diversified as the expressions of countenance 
is the variety of tastes. Will you compel them to an 
equality in this regard? Whilst I leave others to a perfect 
freedom upon this score, shall I not have a just claim to 
my own freedom also? And shall not they, whose taste is 
the same, be permitted to cultivate it without being intruded 
upon by others who would mar that cultivation ? There 
are, I believe, but two restraints which should be reasonably 
imposed here upon individuals or associations, viz.: 1. That 
this gratification of taste should not be immoral, and 2, That 
it should not infringe upon the rights of others. The ground 
of these restraints is so plain that I shall not point it out. 
It is impossible then, that there should not exist in every 
community various classes whose taste is more or less refined, 
"nor* does the cultivation of refinement in our habits impair 
the equality of our civil and political rights. It would be 
indeed a cruel tyranny to compel an individual to seek for 


his enjoyment only in that which, though it suits the taste 
of another, yet is altogether in opposition to his own. Still 
as a general principle it is expected that they, who move in 
the more refined and better informed circles of society, 
should conform to the usages of their associates in the very 
character of their relaxation, for the similarity of their 
education and of their early habits supposes a general 
similarity of taste. 

Our progress through life is comparatively brief, and it 
is our duty, not only to ourselves, but to society, to be useful 
whilst we are able. The great bulk of human happiness 
and of human prosperity has been created by the industry 
of man. Our predecessors have thus been our benefactors, 
and the fruits of their ingenuity and exertions have been to 
us a most valuable legacy. It is not long since the " red 
man" occupied the lands which surround us and what 
was his position? He inherited the regions through which 
he roamed ; but because he had little of that stock of 
improvement which the " pale face " possessed, the soil was 
comparatively useless in his hands. And in the accumulation 
of that scries of ingenious discoveries which produces so 
much benefit for us, no inconsiderable portion is the result 
of well-directed relaxation, in which men of mighty minds 
indulged as a relief from graver study. With some the 
cultivation of music, with some the charms of poetry, with 
some the studies of nature in her more choice and elegant 
productions, whilst others improved mechanism and aided the 
useful arts even for their amusement. Nor is the hour of 
social indulgence and good companionship always useless. 
It may often be profitably spent in that way which Curran 
described, in his apostrophe to Lord Avonmore, as usual 
with the "Monks of the Screw:" 

" This soothing hope I draw from the dearest and 
tenderest recollections of my life from the remembrance 
of those Attic nights and those refections of the gods, which 
we have spent with those admired, and respected, and 
beloved companions who have gone before us ; over whose 


ashes the most precious tears of Ireland have been shed. 
Yes, my good Lord, I see you do not forget them. I see 
their sacred forms passing in sad review before your memory. 
I see your pained and softened fancy recalling those happy 
meetings, Avhere the innocent enjoyment of social mirth 
became expanded into the nobler warmth of social virtue, 
and the horizon of the board became enlarged into the 
horizon of man where the swelling heart conceived and 
communicated the generous purpose ; where my slenderer 
and younger taper imbibed its borrowed light from the more 
matured and redundant fountain of yours. Yes, my Lord, 
we can remember those nights without any other regret than 
that they can never more return, for 

'We spent them not in toys, or lust, or wine, 

But search of deep philosophy, 

Wit, eloquence and poesy, 
Arts which I loved, for they, my friend, were thine.' " 


Relaxation is, then, necessary for man, but whilst he 
indulges in it to a proper extent, he should avoid the per- 
nicious, degrading, and ruinous modes which too often present 
themselves to persons of every age, and to which inexperi- 
enced, ardent, and innocent youth is unfortunately allured 
by the most "wily blandishments. Our recreations should be 
suited to the place we occupy, and made to subserve the 
improvement of ourselves, as well as the interests of the 

It has frequently struck me that one of the secondary 
objects of a good collegiate education was to afford to men of 
improved minds and cultivated taste one of the best resources 
for the purposes alluded to ; and that one of the greatest 
mistakes usually made by our educated men was, casting 
aside as useless, after their graduation, the books to whose 
study they had been kept for so many years. It is, indeed, 
in a great degree natural, that having theretofore regarded 
them as instruments of task-work, and that frequently of no 


light description, the mind, now rejoicing in its emancipation, 
should view them as a liberated prisoner would the manacles 
from which he was relieved. This, however, is not a correct 
estimate. They should rather be considered as the means 
by whose use the mind has become greatly enriched. It 
was necessary in a large measure to compel the youth to 
industry that he might acquire mental wealth ; it has been 
collected, and is treasured up ; by a little exertion, he not 
only will easily preserve what has been put together, but 
will greatly add to its value ; if, however, he remain listless 
and idle, even what he has already acquired will rapidly 
dwindle away. 

I l*ave known men, who, during protracted lives, found 
in the cultivation of classical literature that relaxation which 
improved whilst it relieved the mind. The last survivor 
of those who pledged their lives and fortunes, and nobly 
redeemed their sacred honor, in the achievement of our 
glorious inheritance of liberty, was a striking instance of 
this. "When nearly fourscore years had passed away from 
the period of his closing the usual course of classical educa- 
tion, after the perils of a revolution, after the vicissitudes 
of party strife, when the decay of his faculties warned him 
of the near approach of that hour when he should render an 
account of his deeds to that Judge who was to decide his 
fate for eternity, from his more serious occupations of prayer 
and self-examination, and from the important concern of 
managing and dividing his property, would diaries Carroll, 
of Carrollton, turn for refreshment to those classic authors 
with whom he had been familiar through life ; his soul 
would still feel emotion at the force of Tully's eloquence 
or melt at Virgil's pastoral strain. 

Perhaps, the very selection in early life of this, as the 
best mode of mental indulgence, tended much to insure to 
him, not only his patriarchal age, but the calm and serene 
frame of mind which was also well calculated to preserve 
health and to promote longevity. When the young man is 
thus occupied, and enjoys the literary gratification, he is less 


disposed to search for that society or to rush into those 
indulgences, which, whilst they destroy the powers of the 
mind, undermine the vigor of the constitution, and are the 
prelude to years of remorse and to a life of difficulties. 
This relaxation is unquestionably very rational, perfectly 
dignified, and would, I have no doubt, be found eminently 
useful by all who would adopt it. 

There are many who regard classical studies merely as an 
exercise to become acquainted with the dead languages of 
Greece and Home, so that we may be able to read the 
productions of their authors, and thus become acquainted 
with their learning. And they very naturally tell us, that,, 
being possessed of good translations, whose accuracy is 
acknowledged, we can with more facility and precision, and 
in an incomparably less portion of time, learn all that they 
"could teach. 

This appears plausible, and would be true if its assump- 
tion were a fact. But such is not the case. The object is 
not to learn the languages merely for this purpose. In 
the first place, the object is to form the mind to habits of 
industry, to precision and accuracy of judgment, as well 
as to imbibe principles of just criticism by a discipline 
eminently fitted to this end. If the teacher, as in too many 
instances is unfortunately the case, especially in young com- 
munities, be not himself capable of appreciating the value 
of the course, or of usefully conducting a pupil through it, 
the fault lies in the incompetency of him who undertakes, 
not in the inutility of that which is undertaken. In learning 
properly a dead language, there is no room for idleness 
without detection, because every word should be accounted 
for, its derivation traced with accuracy, every inflection 
ought to be known, and its precise signification should be 
pointed out ; the dependence of words upon each other 
must be understood, and the rules of that dependence ascer- 
tained and applied. This is the indispensable basis of sound 
classical knowledge ; and I ask, whether it be possible to- 
have the youthful mind occupied during years in this- 


process, without producing habits of industry and research? 
When this knowledge has been perfectly acquired, no diffi- 
culty presents itself in perusing the works of the ancients, 
but each day new gratification is derived from the discoveries 
that are constantly made in the very structure of the language 
itself; words are separated into their most minute portions, 
the original expressions are found in which men first called 
objects by their most simple appellations, and the composition 
of the word shows the combinations found in some new 
object, and this detection of the analogy between language 
and its objects leads to a most improving and delightful 
process of philosophy. 

I am aware, however, that comparatively few persons are 
admitted into this field of recreation, because few persons 
labor to furnish themselves with the key by means of which 
they can enter; for, by reason of either their own or theif 
teacher's neglect, they have not acquired that accurate notion 
of the original language that would relieve them from 
trouble in its perusal, or would enable them to follow up 
the discoveries to which I allude; and therefore the book 
is closed, abandoned, and soon forgotten. 

Figure to yourselves a young man whose parents compelled 
him, through long years of tedious and often painful occupa- 
tion, to reclaim a rich piece of ground and to cultivate it 
with care ; see it now given to him as a possession, not 
only in the highest state of culture, but with an exuberant 
and inexhaustible depth of soil, with hands sufficient for its 
tillage accustomed to the performance of their task; what 
would your estimate be of the judgment and taste of this 
young proprietor, should he proclaim to his servants that 
they need not labor, should he take no concern in the 
management of his land, and should he suffer it to become 
waste through mere negligence? It will not remain unpro- 
ductive. Should it not be cultivated, its very fertility will 
hasten its progress to renewed wildness ; the noisome weed 
will spring up luxuriantly, the tangled underwood will 
thicken, and the rising trees will interweave their roots 


below the surface more quickly than their arms will meet 
above. Such is the figure of the human mind, such the 
consequence of neglecting, by a little care, to cultivate in 
your .leisure moments that classical knowledge which you 
have acquired. 

The discipline, by which you have been brought to the 
knowledge of this ancient language fits your mind for the 
graver studies and the more pressing cares of your manhood, 
as it was itself that best calculated for your adolescence, 
because your curiosity was excited and gratified by the 
subjects that were submitted to your examination ; and 
though you found some labor in ascending towards the 
temple of science, yet were you attracted by some flower 
that invited you forward, and were amply repaid even by 
the expansion of the horizon and the riches of the scenery 
that were spreading before you as you arose. Having once 
overcome the difficulties of the ascent, if you preserve your 
position, the labor has terminated, and the enjoyment is 
within your control. Thus, what was originally an arduous 
task becomes, by perseverance in its use, a pleasing 

The proper study of the classics requires extensive acquaint- 
ance with ancient history. The writers, whose works are 
placed in the pupil's hand, were men of information, 
accurately instructed, not only in the history of their own 
times, but of those which preceded them. They often treat 
specially of the important events of those remote days, or 
they make direct allusions to them, to understand whose force 
we must become exactly informed of the facts themselves ; 
and thus the classical student is drawn insensibly to acquire 
a vast fund of information in this department, in a mode 
which stores the mind by a far more pleasing process than 
that of sitting down professedly to pore over the dry recital 
of some ancient chronicler of events. Take, for instance, 
the JEneid of Virgil and contemplate the vast accumulation 
of historical details to which it refers. It is true that the 
student must labor sedulously at first, and must consult many 


a dictionary and many a map ; he must become acquainted 
with the early settlements of the little States that covered 
Asia Minor, that filled the Archipelago and the continent of 
Greece ; he must learn the origin and the progress of Latium, 
the Tyrian migrations to the coast of Africa, Lnd much more 
that you will easily recollect. But in the midst of this 
research, he is allured to persevere by the sweet warbling 
of the poet whose full meaning he desires to comprehend. 
It is thus that the years, which are said to be lost in the 
mere acquisition of an useless tongue, are employed in laying 
up treasures that may prove so valuable in after life. And 
it is thus that the mind, after having acquired this knowl- 
edge, can, without exertion, recall and preserve it as it 
relaxes from its laborious occupations, to enjoy the harmony 
of the Mantuan bard ; just as when, with extraordinary 
labor, great research, and no inconsiderable expenditure, a 
fine cabinet of science has been collected from the several 
regions of the globe and the various kingdoms of knowledge, 
the exertions and the study for its arrangement are fatiguing, 
but it subsequently is the source for enriching the mind 
with intellectual wealth, easily acquired, the occasion of 
refreshing, for the memory, that which would have faded 
away, and an agreeable and entertaining retreat in the hour 
of necessary relaxation. 

Persuaded that a principal obstacle to making the knowl- 
edge of the classics subserve the great object of polished 
recreation, is to be found in the imperfection of the reading, 
I shall illustrate, by a passage from one of the great masters 
of criticism the position I have taken respecting the necessity 
of deep study in our early life, to render those books delight- 
ful in after days : 

"You, then, whose judgment the right course would steer, 
Know well each ancient's proper character; 
His fable, subject, scope in every page ; 
Religion, country, genius of his age ; 
Without all these at once before your eyes, 
Cavil you may, but never criticise." 



You will then perceive, that, not only mere history, such 
as I have alluded to, is required to be well known as a 
preliminary to understanding those authors, but history of 
another description, and respecting which there is much 
less accurate information, even amongst men of literary repu- 
tation, than is generally suspected. The mythology or his- 
tory of their ancient religious systems is far more necessary 
to be known by him who would become acquainted with 
the writers of those early times, than is a knowledge of 
the Christian religion for the person who would know the 
scope and meaning of the philosophical or scientific writers 
of our own age and nation ; because their religion entered 
more extensively into the writings of all classes amongst 
them, than does ours into the compositions of our mere 
secular authors. Perhaps I shall be thought at least rash 
for the assertion that this field is very little examined into, 
but I could easily sustain my position, first, because the 
value of mythology is greatly underrated ; next, because, 
when a mere vague general notion of its nature is formed, 
it is thought to be sufficiently known; and thirdly, because 
many persons, through an affectation of contempt for its 
puerility and folly, regard its study as at least a great waste 
of time. I shall only say that some of the finest passages 
of the poets and philosophers are scarcely intelligible to those 
who do not trace mythological history, from the first aber- 
rations of the human mind in the ancient nations, through 
all their varied forms of worshiping the host of heaven 
instead of its Creator ; of paying the highest homage to 
genii, to angels, and to demons, whilst they denied it to 
the God who made them ; of beholding the universal soul 
spread through the whole visible world and manifesting itself 
in the fire of Persia ; in the waters of Egypt, entering into 
its oxen and its leeks ; found in the rude stone of the 
Scythian equally as in the Bactrian torrent, the Druid's 
oak, or the African sun. Nor is it for the classics alone 
this research is necessary ; its results elucidate the pages 
of the Old Testament ; and the reveries of Manes and the 


imaginings of Plato must be known in order to compre- 
hend the inspired passages of St. Paul and St. John. But 
I touch upon a topic from which I have determined to 
abstain. It will suffice for me to say tfhat an extensive 
an.d precise acquaintance with mythology is required for a 
classical scholar, and that, to obtain it, he must go over 
a multitude of facts. By means of the knowledge thus 
obtained, he will find little difficulty in understanding cus- 
toms that would be otherwise inexplicable or obscure. The 
histories of Saturn, of Jupiter, and of the other deities, as 
they are styled, are of a later date, and their character 
brings them nearer to the period of a more degenerate 
worship. To obtain this mythological knowledge requires 
that the student should traverse all the known regions of 
the ancient world, that his search should be continued 
through many centuries, that he should be. the associate of 
the philosopher, the companion of the monarch, the observer 
of the priest ; that he should go into the camp with the 
soldier, be seated in the hall of legislation, mingle with 
the shepherds as they tend their flocks or rehearse their 
lays. He must go down with the mariner upon the deep, 
observe the courses of the stars, learn their influences, not 
only upon the regions of Eolus, but upon the destinies of 
men. With the augur he must study the habits of the 
birds, by the soothsayer he will be taught the arrange- 
ment and the anatomy of beasts, and in company with the 
Pythoness he must be filled with the inspirations of heaven. 
Think you that, if the study of man be useful, this is a 
criminal waste of time? 

There is, in the palace of the Vatican at Rome, a long 
corridor, well known to the visitors of that magnificent 
depository of arts and of literature. As you enter, upon 
your right hand, the wall is lined from the floor to the 
ceiling with fragments of marble, containing the rude and 
the improved inscriptions of Italy, in the days of heathen- 
ism. An immense vista opens before you, and to its 
extremity this monumental partition continues ; the images 


of gods, the fragments of idols, the busts of heroes, the 
figures of philosophers, the statues of emperors, sarcophagi, 
and pedestals range along its base ; and the learned, the 
curious, the powerful, and the beautiful, the unbeliever and 
the pious, the gay and the grave, the libertine and the 
pilgrim, the British peer, the Spanish grandee, the Ameri- 
can citizen, the Oriental sage, and the Italian peasant, in 
all the varied costumes of rank, of nation, of taste, and 
of caprice, move along the hall, reading the history of 
other days, and admiring the works of artists who, for 
multiplied centuries, have been insensible to censure or to 
praise. There you may detect their living forms, gliding 
between stern warriors frowning in marble, amidst petrified 
consuls and gladiators, blended with matrons, nymphs, and 
satyrs. One of the fathers of the Church has appropriately 
remarked that any one possessing eyes may look upon the 
characters of an illuminated volume, and admire the rich- 
ness of the tints, the beauty of the letters, the decorations 
of the vellum ; but, had he been taught to read, how much 
more information would he gather from the document itself! 
how much more valuable would it be in his estimation ! 
So, to the scholar, how rich is the mine of knowledge 
which that corridor contains ! and are not his authors and 
his recollections like that corridor, to him who has become 
familiar with their contents ? 

On your left, as you enter, monuments of another lan- 
guage are presented to your view. The walls are covered, 
but the devices are not the same ; the emblems are occa- 
sionally varied. One monogram, however, in those of the 
earliest epoch, seems to pervade; the fish is sculptured 
upon the greater number ; the dove with the .small sprig 
of olive in its bill is there ; a palm-branch, tinted with 
red, distinguishes not a few ; an ark, borne upon the waters, 
surmounted by an arch, is discernible amongst them ; the 
word PAX is nearly universal. The archaeologist recognizes 
the symbolic language of early Christendom; and the busts 
and statues of some of her heroes, and the ornaments of 


the Galilean religion, mingled with many a relic of those 
olden days, arranged under the significant and instructive 
emblem of the oriflam, exhibit the contest and the suffer- 
ing and the triumph of Christianity! In studies like this, 
the understanding is informed, the memory is strengthened, 
and the mind is relieved. In the midst of our struggles 
through this changing life, it is well to have, in those 
moments of care, of oppression, and of dejection, some 
classic scenery which will be to us as a city of refuge, 
until we shall be able to recruit. The effect will be like 
that described by the favorite bard of Ireland : 

"Let fate do her worst, there are relic* of joy, 
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy, 
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, 
And bring back the features that joy used to wear. 
Long, long be my heart with such memories filled, 
Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled 
You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will, 
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still." 


The knowledge of geography, it is clear, is required 
equally as is that of history, and it is impossible to under- 
stand the ancient authors without having an intimate 
acquaintance with the lands and the waters of which they 
treat ; hence, no person has ever been regarded as worthy 
of the appellation of a scholar, who could not at each epoch 
describe the political divisions of the earth. Do we allude 
to dialects in Greece? It will be as necessary for us to be 
acquainted with the vicinity of the State in which the dialect 
was used, as with the locality of the State itself. AVc may 
illustrate this by viewing the continent of Europe to-day. 
The traveller in Switzerland, for instance, will find in 
Geneva and the Jura the language to be generally French, 
because of their vicinity to France. Let him. pass through 
the Valais, he finds Italian idioms and pronunciation becoming 
more prevalent as lie goes to the southeast, and upon the 
Siniplon he will almost fancy "himself already in Italy. 


Proceeding, however, from Berne towards Zurich, the German 
is blended with the French ; and when lie arrives at St. 
Gall, or upon the borders of the lake of Constance, his 
French is next to useless, and before he crosses the Rhine, 
iio is a bewildered stranger, unless he can use German 

The language which is spoken becomes, in some measure, 
that which is written, where the body of the people can 
write ; and, amongst ourselves, I expect it would not be hard 
to calculate the land whence came the man who tells us that 
he has notions for sale ; and I reckon we should speedily tell 
the abode of a traveller who would ask the conductor of a 
railroad car to be careful of his plunder! Customs vary 
with geographical limits, and we should be amused at the 
ignorance of him who would clothe the Scythian in the 
Persian's flowing stole, or invest the Ethiopian with the 
toga, with equal justice as we would at the folly of him who 
would declare it absolutely necessary to procure a powdered 
wig and ermine robes from Westminster Hall, to enable a 
Georgia judge to open his commission. The Romans knew 
as little of passing their children through the fire of* Baal, 
as the Scandinavian did of the worship of Astarte. 

Gather to-day the remains which may yet be found on the 
sites of the Volscian cities, take those of a more remote 
region of Etruria, and place them by the side of the vast 
collections that the Grsecea Magna of ancient days has 
yielded, together with the excavations of Pompeii and of 
Herculaneum, to the splendid collections of Naples; from 
them you will learn the diversity of epochs, of customs, and 
of arts, and you will perceive the influence of geographical 
distinctions, as well as of distant times. I have seen the 
outlines of figures drawn with anatomical accuracy in frescoes 
that have, during more than three thousand years, preserved 
their original tints in an unimpaired brilliancy. I have seen 
the vases of a later period in another region, and I have 
seen the productions of the mighty masters who two thousand 
years ago filled Southern Italy with works of various art, 



that have exceeded those of the most glorious days of 
Eastern Greece. The phraseology of the several writers 
who described those ages and their customs came vividly to 
my recollection, as I contemplated the " breathing brass," 
or as I saw the evidences of the custom; and I felt how 
groundless is the notion which some persons would inculcate, 
that classical studies are but the learning of a dead language ! 
They demand close and unremitting attention to the geog- 
raphy of ancient times, tracing the origin and the migrations 
of colonies, their settlements, their neighbors, their border 
quarrels, their tactics, their success or their extinction, their 
government, their customs, their language and its modifica- 
tions. This is a portion of what we designate as classical 
knowledge : 

" Patient CAKE by just degrees 

"Word and image learns to class; 
Those confounds and separates these 

As in strict review, they pass ; 
Joins as various features strike, 
Fit to fit and like to like, 
Till in meek array advance 
Concord, Method, Elegance." 

He who, without such information, would presume to 
claim the high and honorable title of a classical scholar, 
may be well placed in the same category as the writer who 
should locate the falls of Niagara upon the Ocmulgee, or 
the one who would assure us that, after escaping many perils 
in descending the Chattahoochie, his mind resumed its calm 
as he found himself quietly gliding from its turbid stream 
into the deep and broad waters of Delaware Bay, with the 
Chesapeake expanding in the distance, and Bunker's Hill 
and the other Alleghanies proudly rising within his view to 
the clouds. 

There is no power of the mind which stands in greater 
need of judicious restraint, and yet which requires more 
freedom, than does the imagination. Horace finely shows 
its dangers and its imperfections in the opening of his essay 


on the art of poetry, and lie soon afterwards exhibits the 
principle of restraint. 

" But not through nature's sacred rules to break, 
Monstrous to mix the cruel and the kind, 
Serpents with birds, and lambs with tigers joined.'' 

Its duty is to embody, before the mind's eye, some sen- 
sible representation which shall, when expressed, better arrest 
the attention of the hearer and communicate information, 
than will any abstract description. Our nature is not merely 
spiritual ; the chief part of our knowledge is received 
through our senses ; we live and we more in a world of 
sense, amongst objects of sense, and though we may often 
indulge in metaphysical abstraction, and may reason upon 
essences and generalizations, yet we are more vividly and 
powerfully and permanently affected by the objects of sense ; 
and thus the soul forms for itself, as it were, sensible 
representations or images of even what in truth are spiritual 
beings not to be apprehended by our senses, or of an abstrac- 
tion which has no real existence out of those subjects in 
which it is found as a quality. Thus, though angels have 
no bodies, we imagine them existing in bodily shape. 
Strength is not a being, neither is prudence, nor valor, nor 
piety, nor strife, nor revenge. The imagination must, as it 
were, give to them existence in some scenery which rep- 
resents what it is sought to describe ; the picture must not 
only show each figure perfect in itself, but the entire must 
be harmoniously grouped to give a pleasing effect. Akenside 
finely displays the object 

"Know then, whate'er of Nature's pregnant stores, 
Whate'er of mimic art's reflected forms, 
With love and admiration thus inflame 
The powers of fancy, her delighted sons 
To three illustrious orders have referr'd 
Three sister graces, whom the painter's hand, 
The poet's tongue confesses ; the sublime, 
The wonderful, the fair. I see them dawn I 
I see the radiant visions, where they rise, 
More lovely than when Lucifer displays 
His beaming forehead through the gates of morn, 
To lead the train of Phoebus, and the spring." 


Nothing is more generally admitted than the impossibility 
of giving a precise and graphical description of what is 
not plainly seen and accurately comprehended. There is in 
many minds, and perhaps more generally discoverable in 
our Southern regions, as great an impatience of that delay 
and labor necessary to arrange this exhibition, as there is 
extensive poAver to call up the figures and to cast the 
scenes. And nothing is better calculated to remedy this 
very serious evil than habitual and intimate intercourse with 
the classical authors. Insensibly, the results of the rule 
they followed become so impressed upon our minds as to 
cause almost an identification thereof with our habits of 
thought, and a taste is cultivated which will instinctively 
detect any aberration from the great principle which was 
their guide. 

"Hear how leaned Greece her useful rules indites, 
When to repress, and when to indulge our flights. 
High on Parnassus' top her sons she showed 
And pointed out these arduous paths they trod. 
Held from afar, aloft, the immortal prize,, 
And urged the rest by equal steps to ri.-e. 
Just precepts thus from great examples giv'n 
She drew from them, what they derived from heav'n." 


This creative power of the mind is not only regulated 
by the use of their precepts and the imitation of their 
example, it is wonderfully enriched by the vast treasures 
of materials which they have accumulated. These are inex- 
haustible for their extent, and wonderful in their variety; 
though so immense, yet you carry them without inconve- 
nience, and no robber can despoil you nor speculator strip 
you. Your own sloth is the only plunderer who can, on 
this side of the grave, deprive you of the valuable posses- 
sion. You are also taught, how, from a poor and seem- 
ingly barren field, you may, by industrious cultivation, raise 
an abundant harvest. Go to the sands, the groves, the 
pools, and the sulphureous little mounds of Cumae. How 


uninteresting, how valueless do they appear ! Open the 
pamphlet of the Canon Jorio, and read the sixth book of 
the Eneid, as you examine its contracted limits, and how 
is the scenery changed! The Hell, the Purgatory, and the 
Heaven of Virgil are around you, Lethe is at your feet, 
Phlegethon is before you, you find the bark of Charon on 
the Styx, the rude threatenings of Cerebus are echoed 
around ; the gloomy Avernus is behind yon, and accom- 
panied by the Sybil, the shades of the mighty dead pass 
in review before you. The wand of imagination has brought 
the surface of the globe, and the generations of multiplied 
ages, within the narrow compass of a short excursion, and 
has spread over this barren spot the panoramic view of 
the years that have passed away, and of the immortality 
that succeeds them. Yet how far short is this of the 
power that imagination possesses ? 

Another serious advantage, derivable from continuing this 
familiarity with the ancient authors, is, that it affords us 
ample scope for the study of the human mind, exhibiting 
its epochs of acquisition in science, its improvement in the 
arts, the true field for its labors, and the mode in which 
we may be more likely to insure success. We may thence 
learn the fallacy of those theories which have, under the 
garb of philosophy and science, at various times, betrayed 
great minds into egregious folly. 

Thus, we perceive immediately that the art of writing 
and the discovery of letters bear us back to no very remote 
period from the origin of our Christian epoch, and sustain 
our religion's history. And though some nations had made 
progress in legislation, in arts, and in arms, though agri- 
culture was greatly improved, and commerce extending its 
dominion, though several mighty monuments were raised at 
early periods, still the first efforts at writing were exceed- 
ingly rude, and their application was very limited. We 
tracs the progress of science from one period to another, 
but beginning with what was most in demand for the 
necessities, then the comforts, and subsequently for the luxu- 


ries of man. Yv r e find our forefathers under the influence 
of the same passions and subject to the same infirmities 
as we are, and equally the slaves of prejudice and of pride 
as we are, having the same appetites and taking the like 
means for their gratification. If we come down to more 
recent epochs we perceive that though, in the contest with 
the barbarian, much of the more polished literature and 
t'.ie finer arts were for a time overwhelmed, still they 
were not altogether lost, and that the restoration gives a 
very different appearance from what took place at the 

Whilst we behold the ancient nations exceeding us in 
many instances in works of architecture, in persevering 
industry, in the amassing of wealth, in the productions of 
their soil, in military prowess, in force of eloquence and 
the sweets of poetry, in one respect they are confessedly infi- 
nitely below us, that is, in their notions of God and of 
religion, and in their maxims of morals. They sought to 
acquire in the schools of philosophy what we say must be 
derived from Heaven, and as the contrast in the results is 
as obvious as is the contrast between the principles, it 
should seem easy to decide upon a choice as to which 
should be adopted. Nothing will tend better to confirm 
what I here allude to than a calm examination of what 
their best authors testify regarding their opinions and their 

I have said that we are equally weak as they were, as 
regards our pride and self-importance. I shall endeavor to 
illustrate and prove the general truth of my observation. 
It is related of an Asiatic prince of more modern times, 
to whom an ambassador was sent from Holland, that he 
frequently was pleased at hearing from the envoy the 
extraordinary accounts of the customs and institutions of 
Europe. On one occasion, speaking of the intensity of cold, 
of which the monarch had very imperfect notions, the am- 
bassador told him, that in Holland it sometimes produced 
such an effect on water that its surface became solid, and 


that men walked on it in safety and transported heavy 
burdens upon it as they would on land. The prince imme- 
diately ordered him to quit his dominions for having the 
effrontery of endeavoring to make him despicable by induc- 
ing him to believe in the truth of what was naturally 
impossible, because the experience of every one contra- 
dicted the notion that any increase of cold could render 
solid that which was always known to be liquid. It was 
opposed to the law of nature. 

Strange as we may deem this decision of the Eastern, I 
believe you will find it equalled by that of Herodotus, who, 
remarking upon the statement that certain Egyptians had 
circumnavigated Africa at an early period, by sailing down 
the Ked Sea and after a long lapse of time returning by 
the pillars of Hercules, places his greatest difficulty of receiv- 
ing their testimony upon the ground of their asserting that 
when at the greatest distance they had gone towards the 
south, the sun was at noon upon their right hand as they 
sailed towards the west. This, he says, everybody knows 
is impossible, it is against the laws of nature, because it 
is against the experience of every one that to a person 
going west the sun should at noon be to the right hand 
side of his position. I believe the law of nature now to 
be the same as it was then, and a navigator at this day 
sailing westwards below the Cape of Good Hope would 
consider it a very strange phenomenon to have the sun in 
any other position than on his right hand at noon ; for 
he would be south of the tropic of Capricorn, and must 
necessarily have the sun to the north. 

I have adduced this instance to show not only that the 
scholar can advantageously study the history of mind and 
the progress of discovery in the ancient authors, but that 
their perusal will show him how liable the greatest minds 
are to sad mistakes, when, by reason of their attachment 
to preconceived notions of their own speculations, they reject 
the evidence of testimony. It was thus that Hume, and 
others of his school, would set up their speculative notion 


that " our own experience is the only test of reasonable 
belief," and thus, like Herodotus, they would, because of 
its novelty, make that, which was the surest evidence of 
the truth of a relation, the very ground of its rejection. 
This school of philosophers is, however, fast sinking to its 
proper place in public estimation, and men are more rational 
in distrusting their self-sufficiency, and in relinquishing their 
prejudices, as they behold ' the follies to which both the 
one and the other have led men of undoubted ability and 
extensive information. . . t 

I am convinced that to such an audience as I have the 
honor of addressing, it is quite unnecessary to urge the 
vast fund of general information upon such a variety of 
subjects as will be found in the books to whose perusal 
I have been endeavoring to induce those who would im- 
prove their understanding, cultivate their taste, or seek a 
reasonable recreation in classical pursuits. In reading them, 
they converse with the most polished, the most learned, 
the most experienced of the poets, philosophers, historians, 
orators, and statesmen, that the civilized world has pro- 
duced during several centuries. 

Amongst them are the mighty men who have by their 
powers of oratory swayed nations as they would men ; who, 
to effect this mighty purpose, subjected themselves to all 
the discipline and labor which so great a work demands. 
Theirs was not the rude volubility which, let off from a 
stump, produces a transitory effect upon the multitude. No ! 
it was the well-weighed expression of solid truth, sent forth 
to establish correct principles, and to \vin to them the sup- 
port of the mighty and of the weak, of the wealthy and 
of the poor, of the sage and of the simpleton. The object 
was o lay the foundations of their country's prosperity in 
their country's affections, and by convincing the under- 
standings of their fellow-men, to win their support to 
measures of public utility. Their productions have outlived 
not only monuments of marble or of brass, but they survive 
the wreck of those governments under which they lived, and 


of others that have succeeded them. They are studied to-day 
as the best models for imitation. You perceive they are 
free from those defects which cause so many others to sink 
into oblivion. They have no vulgar personality, they are 
not pompous exhibitions of the declaimer for the purpose 
of winning an ephemeral applause under the pretext of 
public instruction. No, they are clear and forcible appeals 
to the understanding of their auditors, of whose respect they 
were certain because they proved their deference for the 
judgments of their assemblies, by treating them as men of 

Having convinced by their reasoning, they delighted by a 
chaste decoration. This was investing, with its more soft 
and beautiful covering, the solid frame that had been pro- 
duced, amplified sufficiently to develop the just proportions ; 
there was no redundance to weaken, no excrescence to 
deform. Feeling strongly and warmly themselves, they 
breathed life and vigor into what would otherwise be a form 
inert though beautiful. Dignified and winning in their 
manner, their productions addressed themselves to the hearts 
of their hearers, allured them to obedience, and commanded 
them to action. 

Amongst those who surround me, are several who must, 
whatever be their present prospects or determinations, be 
men to whom Georgia will look as the supporters of her 
rights, as the vindicators of her fame, as the leaders of her 
councils, as the representatives of her principles, as her 
protectors in our federation ; and others upon w T hom she 
will rely to interweave new flowers in the garland of her 
literature. May I say to them, that, whilst they seek even 
from their own Demosthenes, to learn how they may succeed 
like him who 

" Wielded at will that fierce democratic, 
Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece, 
To Macedou and Artaxerxes 1 throne ;'' 

they should know his weakness, avoid his faults, and receive 


a solemn warning from his fate. Had his sole ambition been 
his country's good, his corpse would not have fallen disgrace- 
fully upon Neptune's altar. 

On an afternoon in the early period of the summer, a 
few years since, I stood upon a balcony where the country- 
seat of Cicero overhung an eminence. The air was soft 
yet bracing; Gaeta was at a little distance on my left, 
the blue Mediterranean rippled at a distance on the south- 
western border, groves of orange and of lemon trees filled a 
large portion of the plain which stretched below towards the 
shore, and their delicious perfume arose mingled with that 
of many other delicate odors from the gardens and the 
herbs. It was like the richness of his own eloquence. But 
where was the orator? It was through the pathways of 
that plain he was pursued. It was near that blue wave he 
descended from his litter, thence was his head borne to the 
cruel Anthony. Need I remind you of Fulvia's revenge ? 
And even in the midst of the disastrous estrangements and 
the cruel hatred of faction and of party contest, the very 
populace of Rome wept at beholding the head and the hand 
of their once-loved defender exhibited upon the very rostrum 
where they hung upon his lips. 

Yes, it is a . dangerous eminence ! Honesty of purpose 
and unbending integrity, unswerving perseverance in pre- 
ferring principle to popular applause, in worshipping Fabri- 
cian integrity rather than Plutus, or power, or office, will, 
if any human means can, sustain you in safety. But the 
temptations are great, and there are but few who resist 
them ; hence the victims are numerous, and the fortunate 
are few. 

Georgia has at this day at least one sweet poet, whose 
heart is as kind as his lines are delightful. It may be, and 
let us expect that it will, that other streams besides the 
Savannah should resound with the song. In reading Lord 
Lyttleton's address to Pope, you will perceive that he fancies, 
at the tomb of Virgil, that mighty bard to arise and com- 
mission him to deliver an admonition to the British poet. 


I have stood upon the same epot, and a lovely one it is, 
elevated nearly over the entrance of the great grotto of 
Posilippo, on the headland which divides the Gulf of Naples 
from the waters of Baise. All the inspiration of poetry is 
found in the very breeze that passes over it. With a few 
necessary alterations, let me address, from the mighty 
Mantuan, that same admonition to you : 

"Crowned with eternal bays my ravished eyes 
Beheld the poet's awful form arise ; 
Stranger, he said, whose pious hand has paid 
These grateful rites to my attentive shade, 
When thou shalt breathe thy happy western air, 
Thither this message to its poets bear. 
If high exalted on the throne of wit, 
Near me and Homer you aspire to sit, 
Of you quite worthy, were the task to raise 
A lasting column to your country's praise, 
To sing the land, which yet alone can boast 
That liberty which other nations lost. 
Where science in the arms of peace is laid, 
And plants her palm beneath the olive's shade; 
Such was the theme for which my lyre I strung. 
Such was the people whose exploits I sung. 
Brave, yet refined, for arms and arts renown'd, 
With different bays by Mars and Phoebus crown'd 
Dauntless opposers of tyrannic sway, 
But pleased the State's just edicts to obey. 

If this advice submissive you receive, 
Immortal and unblamed your name shall live. 
Envy to black Cocytus shall retire, 
And howl with Furies in tormenting fire, 
Approving time shall consecrate your lays, 
And join the patriot's to the poet's praise." 

At the period of the confederation, Georgia was the 
youngest amongst her sisters. She now beholds as many 
States succeeding her on the catalogue as there were orig- 
inally united. Yet a large portion of her territory has been 
only lately placed in the hands of her citizens. Immense 
bodies of her finest soil are yet unbroken by the cultivator, 
her rivers are not cleared, nor is her mineral wealth 
explored. We know that rich veins are concealed beneath 


her surface, but their value is scarcely appreciated, nor can 
the mind yet estimate their extent. The spirit of her sons, 
and the wisdom of her councils, have already made her the 
high-road by which, not only her own products and imports 
will be rapidly conveyed, but by which nations and their 
wealth must be transported. Let it be so with her literature. 
Let her University be generously sustained. Let her 
children devote their leisure hours to polite and scientific 
recreation. Her riches will be developed ; the cultivation of 
her taste will decorate her amongst her sisters, her hidden 
treasures will be explored ; from the east and from the west, 
from the north and from the south, will she be visited, 
admired, and enriched by contribution. And as she rises in 
the scale of political and commer-cial importance, so shall she 
be elevated in scientific and literary fame. 

IT is a matter of notoriety, that during several ages a 
practice has prevailed, more or less generally, amongst civil- 
ized nations, of terminating some differences of individuals 
by single combat, in a manner previously arranged ; and 
this fight has, at times, been considered a very becoming 
and honorable mode of closing those altercations. Some 
persons have frequently endeavored to find in what cir- 
cumstance of the duel the quality of honor consisted, but 
have been baffled, sometimes by the diversity of cases, all 
said to be honorable ; at other times by the opposition to 
correct principles in those general but essential character- 
istics which were found in every case. 

I must avow, that I do not recollect a moment when 
I did not feel the practice to be censurable, though I do 
remember a time when I was under what I now believe 
to have been a very erroneous impression ; that engaging 
in such a combat was, at least, an exhibition of courage; 
hence I never conceived it to be honorable. And having 
been upon terms of intimacy with several men of powerful 
mind and generally correct feeling, and in vain sought to 
learn from them in what one or more circumstances of the 
practice honor consisted, I could never obtain any elucida- 
tion. AVas it in killing your adversary ? No ! for honor 
was generally satisfied without his death, and very fre- 
quently after the discharge of a pistol which inflicted a 
Avound upon public morality alone, the parties who previ- 

'An address delivered before the Anti-duellinff Society of Charleston, South Caro- 
lina, in the year 1828. 



ously appeared to seek mutual destruction became fast and 
honorable friends. Was it in violating the law ? Was it 
in exposing one's self to be slain by an insolent aggressor? 
Was it all these united? Is honor then the result of 
blended revenge, violation of law, and wanton exposure of 
life to the weapon of an unreasonable opponent ? To this 
inquiry I could obtain no better answer than that reasonable 
and honorable men approved of the practice, and thought 
it necessary for preserving the decorum of society. 

No person can be more disposed than I am, as well 
from feeling as from principle, to bow with deference before 
the tribunal of such men. I am generally inclined to con- 
sider their maxims to be the dictates of the general or 
common sense of mankind, and since I prefer the collected 
experience and reasoning of the bulk of society to the 
results of my own weak efforts, I believe it to be the 
suggestion of reason, and the duty of an individual, to 
admit that he is not as wise as is the collective body of his 
fellow men. I am, therefore, prepared to view most favor- 
ably, and with what I call a fair partiality, any practice 
which the great body of reasonable and honorable men, 
after mature reflection, and as the expression of their judg- 
ment, and not of their prejudices, will say is necessary, or 
even useful, to preserve the order of society, and the 
decorum of civil intercourse. But I am distinctly of opinion, 
that the good sense and sober judgment of the vast ma- 
jority of upright and educated men are altogether opposed 
to the practice of duelling, as not only useless for society, 
but as criminal and mischievous in its results. Hence, I 
consider the answer which I have received to be the too 
hasty expression of an opinion too lightly examined, and 
to be founded altogether upon mistakes. 

As you have done me the honor of delivering your first 
address, you will, perhaps, excuse me for taking up the 
subject in a more technical manner than would be neces- 
sary for any future occasion. 

To know then the matter exactly for our consideration, 


we had better look to the etymology of the name, the 
nature of the act, and the history of the practice, so that 
our view of the subject might be more accurate, and our 
conclusions more just. The Latin word Duellum means, as 
it were, bettum inter duo, or duorum bellum, "War between 
two persons." The nature of war is attempted injury after 
due notice. Thus, to constitute a duel, there must be notice 
given of an intended attempt to do an. injury, together 
with a warning to be prepared for defence ; and in this 
it differs from assassination or assault, of. which no previ- 
ous notice had been given, just as regular war differs 
from an unforseen predatory or piratical incursion. A duel 
is then a private warfare between two individuals, and is 
generally terminated by a battle with deadly weapons, of 
a determined description, at a defined time and place. In 
this description we must particularly notice the circumstance 
of its being a private warfare ; that is, undertaken by pri- 
vate authority, and the word duel is now, in its applica- 
tion, limited to the battle only. Hence the combat between 
David and Goliath was not a duel, but was a portion of 
regular, public warfare, carried on by the public authority 
of two nations; and a more humane mode of terminating 
a contest than would be the general encounter between two- 
numerous and brave armies. In like manner, the substitu- 
tion of the Horatii and Curiatii for the Roman and Sabine 
armies was a, humane regulation by public authority; and 
therefore neither of those, nor any of several similar instances 
with which history furnishes us, can be looked upon as a 
duel. The combatants were not urged forward by private 
feelings, nor did they act by private authority. 

In seeking for the origin of this practice, we may close 
the authors of Greece and Rome ; neither do India, Chal- 
dea, or Egypt assist us in our research. We are told, 
indeed, that it was a portion of that fine system of chiv- 
alry which decorated the middle ages of Europe, and the 
witchery of that romance which writers have generally sub- 
stituted for the history of that undefined period, like the 


magic of its sorcerers, bewilders the fancy, and deludes us 
with visions of glory and of fame. The splendor of the 
tournament is conjured up for the imagination, the lists 
are prepared, the flattering crowd presses forward to that 
field over which pageantry, royalty, and valor preside; the 
loud notes of the trumpet announce the heralds' approach ; 
the mounted challenger appears, and properly accompanied, 
courses through the inclosure, paying homage to those to 
whom it is due, and waits in proud defiance to confirm 
by his bearing that denunciation which is made in his 
name. His trumpet is answered ; another herald appears 
with the reply ; the marshals arrange the order of combat, 
and the opponents take their ground. Fear, hope, joy, sor- 
row, and exultation alternately and tumultuously seize upon 
the mind of the young enthusiast, the shout of victory, the 
feast of triumph, the rhapsody of the poet, the spell of 
the musician, and the fascination of the theatre blend with 
the sweet voices of our youth, and the scene is associated 
with all that excites the imagination, and affects the heart ; 
honor, love, fidelity, and fame, in a word, chivalry and 
the duel are identified. 

It would be natural to expect that they, who seek only 
to divert the mind, would rest content with this exhibi- 
tion ; but they who desire knowledge must ask its origin. 
It would, perhaps, be natural to expect that thoughtless 
and uninformed youth should be led away by such an 
exhibition ; but it becomes persons of understanding, and 
those having a consciousness of moral accountability, to 
inquire whether such a practice is reasonable and safe. Let 
us then trace the history and make the inquiry. 

The knights of those chivalric days were principally 
descended from the chieftains of those hordes, which, in 
the early period of the Christian era, spread themselves 
over the face of Europe. Issuing from the icy North, they 
locked up in their cold fetters the minds and limbs of the 
vSiirvivors of their opponents. Long, desperate, and with 
various success, was the conflict between the panegyrist of 


"\Voden, of Thor, and of Freya, and the disciples of the 
Cross. As the maxims of the Gospel won upon the mind of 
the barbarian, you might observe frequently the strange 
coexistence of discordant practices, and the awkward attempts 
of ignorance or of imbecility, to reconcile contradictions. 
He who would, by the torch of history, learn the facts which 
explain many of the mysteries of those days, must penetrate 
into the caverns of Scandinavia, converse with the Runic 
Scald, and frequently extend his journey along the banks 
of the Danube, the Ister, and the Boristhenes, towards the 
ancient forests of Sarmatia and Scythia, into which the great 
forefathers of this race strayed from the vicinity of America. 
I shall not at present lead you through so extended a path ; 
we will not proceed farther than Denmark, and the discov- 
eries there made will give to us the origin of our chivalrous 

We are informed by our antiqarians, that, amongst the 
ancient Suevi and Goths, there was a custom, from time 
immemorial, of deciding differences in a mode called cenwig, 
of which there were two kinds ; the one was conventional, 
the other judicial : the first corresponded exactly with our 
present duel, the other with what in England was known as 
trial by combat. The first was a fight by private authority, 
from private motives, but at an appointed time and place ; 
the second was a battle at a time and place, and with 
weapons appointed by the judges of the horde, to be fought 
under the direction of marshals of the field; and though, 
perhaps, it might appear extraordinary, in this trial by 
combat, which was the last resort upon the failure of testi- 
mony and enlightened judgment, the parties looked for the 
special intervention of the Deity, to manifest not only the 
truth of fact, but the application of law, by bestowing victory 
as well upon him who had right upon his side, as upon him 
who made a true statement ; for it often happened in the 
cenwig, that both parties admitted the same facts, but differed 
only as to the law, the application of which was to be settled 
by the issue of the combat. Which of us would, at this 



day, think of taking a knotty case of law or of equity from 
the mooting of our legal friends and the wisdom of our 
courts, to be decided by the erudite discrimination of a hair- 
trigger? Yet, such is one of the principles upon which 
duelling is based. 

In the fourth and fifth centuries of the Christian era, we 
find the descendants of the first northern invaders in posses- 
sion and in power, in several parts of Gaul, Spain, and Italy. 
Whilst the Franks, from the vicinity of the Elbe, were 
settling down in the northern regions of Gaul, the Goths and 
the Burgundians occupied the more southern provinces. 
About the year 500, we find the Gombette law enacted by 
Gonebald, King of Burgundy, in which men were for the 
first time, in a country claiming to be civilized, commanded 
to refer to the duel the termination of those disputes which 
could not be decided by oaths and testimony. This king 
was an Arian, but the law was observed and enforced by his 
orthodox successors, and this we may look upon as the foun- 
dation of chivalric trial by combat. Having now obtained 
the royal sanction in Burgundy, and the settlers in the 
vicinity tracing their origin and drawing their customs from 
Scandinavia, being also disposed to adopt and follow the 
maxims and observances of their progenitors, the senseless 
and pernicious practice soon spread throughout the whole 
Gallic territory. 

About the close of the ninth century, the Christian 
missionaries had made some impression upon Denmark, and 
early in the succeeding age, upon the death of Svveyn, the 
first Danish monarch of England, and father of Canute the 
Great, his eldest son Harold, who succeeded him in his 
continental domains, being a zealous disciple of the Christian 
law, abolished the ancient and barbarous practice of duels, 
since which time the Danish government has punished, with 
exemplary severity, criminals who violated this prohibitory 
law. It is much to be regretted that the laws of Harold 
were not more generally adopted and acted upon by other 
nations; but it is matter of consolation to find that the 


remedy was first applied where the malady was first exhib- 
ited; and that in the region where this pernicious practice 
emanated, the introduction of Christianity and of civilization 
caused its decay. Much as the mind desires to rest upon 
this green spot in the dreary waste, we must proceed with 
the history of the practice. It was not retained by the first 
Saxon settlers of Britain; and Canute, the Dane, shared 
much of the Christian sentiment of his brother Harold. 
Thus, although France, especially, was now the asylum of 
this banished offspring of the North, we find its influence 
scarcely felt in the neighboring regions. Even the Germans 
began soberly to reflect upon the folly of seeking judicial 
decisions at the point of the lance or by the edge of the 
sword, and were already convinced that it was a manifest 
tempting of heaven, for a puny and weak being who felt that 
he had right, without proof, to trust to the prowess of his 
arm, for its manifestation against the ruffian force and prac- 
ticed agility of some blustering robber, whom strength had 
made . bold, want had rendered desperate, and deeds of 
iniquity had inured to blood. 

Superstition is the expecting from any act supernatural 
effects, for attaining which, by such means, God has given 
no promise; thus, several persons, at that very early period, 
deemed it to be absurd and superstitious tempting of heaven, 
to engage in such conflicts for the vindication of right, 
because they saw that, upon no reasonable principle, could 
they hope for such a result, except by a miracle, which He, 
who alone could work a miracle, had not pledged Himself 
to perform. 

The Lombards, who had settled in Italy, regulated that 
those judicial battles should take place under proper inspec- 
tion, and the combatants were allowed to use only staves 
and shields; thus, although the absurd principle was retained, 
there was an apparent blending of humanity in their super- 
stition. Most of the duels of those ages were appeals to 
heaven to speed the right. Can you discover any principle 
of religion or of good sense, that could warrant such an 


appeal? Do you recollect the general feeling of disapproba- 
tion and of horror, with which the appeal to combat by 
Abraham Thornton was received in England, a few years 
since, when, to save himself from the probability of an 
ignominious death, he met the appeal of the brother of 
her who had been murdered with the legal offer of 
wager ' of battle ? Suppose this unfortunate man was the 
seducer and the murderer of the too-confiding victim of 
his double brutality, in what consisted the propriety or 
honor 'of permitting, under the sanction of law, what his 
frame showed to be a natural consequence, the cruel 
destruction of an afflicted brother, who invoked the public 
justice of society upon the destroyer of a beloved sister? 
Reason, religion, and honor unite in the reprobation of so 
nefarious a mockery of law. 

I said that it was not used by the Anglo-Saxons, and we 
have seen that it was abolished in Denmark, at the time that 
Canute ruled over England. But, at this period, the spirit 
of Normandy gave its full sanction to the custom ; and 
when William I began to give his laws to the subjugated 
English, he introduced the trial by duel, according, indeed, to 
the Englishman, whom a Frenchman might appal, the con- 
tumelious privilege, if he were weak, of looking for a stronger 
substitute. This was its first legal establishment in that 
country, where the principle of the law has continued in 
force down to a very late period,- if not to the present day. 
How far in theory it might, even now, be part of the law 
of South Carolina, and of those other portions of our Union 
which have preserved the common law of England, it is not 
for me to say. 

Hitherto I have only considered that species of duel 
which is judicial, and which has been sometimes carried 
solemnly into legal effect. If any description of this com- 
bat could be defended upon principle, this alone could have 
the benefit of such defence, because it was not undertaken 
by private but by public authority ; it was not supposed 
to be entered upon him from motives of revenge, but for 


the manifestation of truth, and the parties, about to engage, 
made their solemn appeal to heaven to defend the right ; 
the judges of the land and other public officers, sometimes 
even the monarch himself, presided, and sometimes an igno- 
rant, or a timid, or a negligent clergyman offered up his 
public prayer to heaven to speed the right, and to mani- 
fest the truth, thus seeking the decision of that eternal 
Judge who did not always give the race to the swift, or the 
victory to the strong, and whose providence regulated the 
affairs of individuals equally as of communities. 

I shall briefly allude to the principles upon which this 
judicial combat is plainly criminal in its own nature; whence 
it must follow, that, although the individuals who under 
the national sanction engaged therein, might be sometimes 
excusable upon the ground of ignorance, the act of the 
government itself was void and sinful. Indeed it would now 
appear to be scarcely necessary for me to detain you with 
an allusion, but that it might serve to elucidate other cases 
which we shall have to consider. 

It is a recognized principle of law, that no subordinate 
tribunal can sanction what the superior has prohibited. No 
authority could make superstition innocent or lawful ; and 
until it could be shown that God Himself authorized the 
appeal to be made to Him, for a decision in the mode 
alluded to, to make it in that mode is clearly criminal. 
The Jewish woman who had recourse to the waters of 
jealousy, for the manifestation of her innocence, performed 
a becoming act, because the Almighty had created this mode 
of appeal, and to have recourse to a divine institution for 
the purpose intended by its Author, is surely an act of 
religious homage, not a crime. But they who derived the 
custom of the duel from the barbarians of Dacia and of 
Scandinavia, did not pretend to a divine sanction for their 
conduct ; they only blended the superstition of the pagan 
with the profession of Christianity. They might have seen 
the evidence of their inconsistency in Deuteronomy and in 
the Gospels, where the precept was given and reiterated, not 


to tempt the Lord their God. Superstition is a vice 
specially opposed to true religion, and strictly forbidden by 
the divine law ; hence no human tribunal, however extended 
its power or high its station, could give a sanction to this 
practice. The civil law expressly condemned those fights, 
and repeated censures 'of them, as well as of other like 
ordeals, are found in the canon law of the Church. The 
Popes frequently used their best exertions to have the evil 
extinguished, as might be seen, to omit a multitude of 
other documents, in the letter of Nicholas I to King 
Charles the Bald, of France, about the year 850, in the 
acts of Innocent II, about 1140, and in the same cen- 
tury in those of Eugenius III, Celestine III, and Alex- 
ander III, in whose pontificate the third Council of Lat- 
eran, in which about three hundred bishops sat, con- 
demned the practice as impious. Innocent IV, in 1252, 
wrote upon the subject to the clergy of France, and at 
the commencement of the sixteenth century, Leo X and 
even Julius II enacted heavy censures against duellists. 
"We have also similar acts of several of their successors, 
and a very severe decree of the Council of Trent, the 
nineteenth, on reformation of those which were passed in the 
twenty-fifth session, on the 3d of December, 1563. However 
the various portions of the Christian body which have with- 
drawn from the communion of that council and those Popes, 
might differ from them in doctrines of faith, I believe 
they unite with them in the condemnation of such combats 
for such a purpose, as superstitious and otherwise highly 
criminal, and not to be sanctioned or justified by any law 
or custom. I believe we should scarcely find an indi- 
vidual disposed to advocate judicial combats at the present 
day, yet they are that species of duel which is upon prin- 
ciple the most susceptible of defence. 

We now proceed to examine the other descriptions of 
combat, which, resting solely on the private authority of 
individuals, and not having been sanctioned by any sem- 
blance of law, are, more properly speaking, duels according 


to our present acceptation of the word. The Scandinavian 
lias also this species of cenwig. Civilians and canonists 
have varied from each other in their distribution of the 
kinds, the former looking rather to the conditions, the latter 
more to the objects of the fight. Perhaps we shall be better 
able to proceed with regularity if we view both enumerations. 

Civilians called a duel decretory, when it was decreed or 
stipulated that the contest should terminate only by the 
death of one of the parties ; propugnating, when a combatant 
went to fight, not for the purpose of slaying his adversary, 
but of defending his honor; and satisfactory, when an 
injured person sought to destroy his aggressor, unless he 
made due compensation. Theologians placed first that to 
manifest truth, which is the judicial; next to which is that 
to terminate controversy, but this contained a new character- 
istic ingredient, that the parties so hate each other that death 
only is likely to prevent their quarrels; the third is to exhibit 
prowess; the fourth to avoid ignominy, nearly allied to which 
is that to defend honor; the sixth to prevent war. Taking 
the theological enumeration, we have disposed of the first, no 
person will attempt to justify the second, the last we may 
omit, because it is one which on all hands is admitted to be 
lawful and sometimes beneficial, and is not within the range 
of our definition, as it is undertaken by public authority, 
in. a public cause. 

There can be no question but the practice of private duels 
was greatly promoted by the wager of battle and by the 
tournament ; whose nature I now proceed to examine. When 
it was not a judicial trial for the manifestation of truth, it 
was of that description called for the exhibition of prowess; 
that is, a vain boasting of strength, agility, or pugnacious 
skill. The bad principle is the same, whether we behold it 
in two young knights who, with the eyes of the prowess, 
and beauty, and pride of a nation fixed upon them, seek for 
reputation in the lists, or in the gladiator at the ancient 
games, in the prize fighter of the modern ring, or in a pair 
of our wagoners who contend for superiority in mutual 


whipping. Wretched weakness of our miserable nature ! 
Glaring evidence of our degradation! We profess to admire 
benignity and its concomitant good qualities ; we place charity 
at the head of the catalogue of virtues ; whilst we indulge 
a secret gratification at beholding scenes of wanton cruelty, 
of bloodshed, and of death; and encourage to deeds of mere 
brutal prowess those whom we would venerate for the practice 
of the opposite virtues. To what shall we trace this singular 
but manifest deordination ? Whilst reason almost instinc- 
tively tells us that this injury of others for the gratification 
of our own pride, or vanity, or curiosity, is bad, we labor 
to create sophisms for its justification, and strive to convince 
ourselves that our natural convictions are mistakes. So it 
is that the children of Adam are led by the impetuosity 
of passion against the admonitions of the understanding ; 
and then, to silence the voice of conscience, they compel or 
they suborn the intellect, to appear as the advocate of that 
which, in its free and unsophisticated moments, it condemned. 
Such, my friends, is the lamentable outline which we must 
draw if we would sketch correctly the picture of our fallen 
race. As I prefer your own testimony to any abstract 
reasoning which I might attempt, I shall appeal to your- 
selves for that testimony as to the correctness of my state- 
ment. Whether would you admire more the man who, 
conscious of his prowess, sought its exhibition in the injury 
of his opponent; or him who, with a like consciousness, 
listened to the dictates of humanity, and told that challenger, 
whom he could crush if he would, that as there existed no 
necessity, so he believed there existed no justification, for 
doing him harm ; and hence, although his presumption 
would seem to call for chastisement, yet a higher authority 
insured his safety? Is there not here the grand distinction 
between the indulgence of passion and its restraint? And 
which is more worthy of your esteem? I will not insult 
you by supposing you could hesitate about the decision. 
The law of God, the law of right u^ason, the common 
sense of the world, the vast preponderating majority of 


civilized men, condemn as irreligious, unreasonable, and 
consequently unjustifiable, the practice of duelling for the 
exhibition of prowess ; and hence you will often find the 
expression of pity or regret, sometimes even the half- 
suppressed sneer of ridicule, united to the acknowledgment 
of the existence of strength, dexterity, and animal courage 
of the successful combatant. 

It might be proper here to observe that a wide distinc- 
tion is to be taken between duels with deadly or dangerous 
weapons, or combats arising from hatred or a desire of 
revenge, in which serious injury is intended to the opponent ; 
and those exercises or trials of strength in which there is 
no danger of injury nor any . indulgence of bad passion. 
These latter are sometimes used for village relaxation and 
amusement, and in such as these it is perhaps good policy 
and wholesome discipline to engage men whose services 
might be required in the field of war for the benefit of their 
country. Yet in those trainings and trials for speed, agility, 
strength, and steadiness, care should be taken to guard, as 
much as possible, against inordinate vanity, or the harboring 
of unkind feelings. I am led to dwell the more upon this 
distinction, because frequently the benefit of such training is 
assumed as ground for an attempt to justify, by analogy, the 
duels which I have condemned ; but as I do not admit the 
analogy, of course I cannot be expected to allow the justifica- 
tion. I shall enter more largely upon this topic, also, because 
I have often heard it asserted that to restrain the spirit 
which led to duelling, was to break down the energies and 
to destroy the courage of the soldier. 

I am under the impression that the proper qualifications 
of a good soldier are not to be always found in the man 
who, for the indulgence of private passion, violates the laws 
of God, and of his country. There is one conclusion deeply 
impressed upon my mind, as well from some slight oppor- 
tunities for observation, as from the testimony of several 
whose experience was very ample, and from the nature of 
the case itself; that conclusion is, that he who has performed 


well and conscientiously his religious and his civil duties, 
will make the best soldier amongst those equal to him in 
other respects. I shall endeavor to show you what, in my 
opinion, forms the ground of much error on this head, the 
accidental possession of courage by a profligate, and its acci- 
dental want in a man who is religious or orderly; but it 
is wrong to draw general conclusions from those accidental 
facts. We all know that the degrees of courage vary in 
different individuals. What a multitude of its gradations 
exist, from its exhibition in him who, with unmoved nerve 
and unrelaxed muscles, leads his division to the breach 
which vomits destruction and bristles with bayonets, to the 
pale, trembling coward whose soul shudders and whose 
knees tremble at the bare anticipation of possible danger ! 
And how various are its characteristics, from the manifesta- 
tion in the calm martyr who, with wealth, titles, and worldly 
honors at one side, and captivity, chains, destitution, death, 
and ignominy upon the other, stands unmoved in his firmly 
modest declaration that he cannot deny the truth of what 
he knows to be a fact, to its glitter in him who cheers his 
comrades whilst he volunteers upon the forlorn hope! The 
neglect of marking those several kinds and degrees, and their 
several combinations in different individuals, has given rise 
to the mistake, and led some officers to assert, that a respect 
for the principles of religion and the regulations of civil 
society tended to destroy that bold and determined char- 
acter so necessary for the army. This is, indeed, a seri- 
ous mistake. It is well known that some of the bravest 
officers have held those principles and regulations in the 
highest respect, whilst they openly condemned the practice 
of duels. I speak of a fact, not merely in some degree 
within my own knowledge, but one which has a host of 
testimony for its support, that some of the most religious 
and regularly conducted men who had recourse to the min- 
istry and the sacraments, were soldiers who had the esteem 
and affection of their officers, not only for the regularity 
of their conduct, but for their steady and continued hero- 


ism, and protracted trials and desperate attempts. It is 
also unquestionably true that men of desperate bravery 
who had been, as it were, educated in violations of the 
law, contempt of religion, and trials of their courage, were 
found most useful against the enemy, but, like Indian allies, 
.when not thus employed, it required all the vigilance, 
agility, and power of discipline and law to keep the un- 
tamed desperadoes from the indulgence of their natural 
ferocity upon their peaceable fellow-citizens. Had those men 
been nurtured under the restraints of civil and religious 
institutions, they would have lost none of their natural 
prowess, and it would have been more easily turned to 
good account. I make the assertion from having been sat- 
isfied that some of these nuisances of an urmy, who had 
been brought under such restraints, preserved all their good 
qualities, and more frequently exhibited them refined and 
improved by what I must call their civilization, 

I would then say that not only is the combat for the 
exhibition of prowess irreligious and unreasonable, but so 
far from tending to the perfection of courage, or the fit- 
ting a man for the defence of his country, it adds nothing 
to the pre-existing degrees of that good quality, but, by 
teaching contempt for the laws of God and of society, and 
encouraging the indulgence of a bad passion and of self- 
will, it disqualifies its subject for submitting to that severe 
discipline and moral restraint which is the best preservative 
of an efficient army. When the master of poetry wrote, 

Ilonoratum si forte reponis Achillem 
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer 
Jura nrget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armi*, 

he did not intend to give us the picture of a good and 
useful soldier, but of one who yielding to his gust of passion, 
would disobey his commander, desert his colors, and because 
of his private wrongs pray for the success of the enemy 
and the ruin of the army in which he served, and who 
is again brought to the field, not by a sense of public 


duty, but roused by the workings of private friendship to 
seek unmeasured revenge. Such exactly is the soldier whom 
the principles of duelling would produce. Judge you, how 
long an army of such men would preserve our republic. 
"VVe may be told, surely, that an ignominious life is what 
neither reason nor religion would compel one to lead. If, 
during the whole period of a man's subsequent existence, 
he is, for the omission of an act, to be 

A fixed figure, lor the hand of scorn 
To point his slow and moving finger at, 

it cannot be immoral to make one effort for relief from 
so cruel a state of degraded endurance. Does the end then 
justify the means ? Are we at liberty to relieve ourselves 
from an unpleasant predicament, without considering the 
propriety of that mode by which we may be extricated ? 
Proclaim the maxim to the highwayman who seeks to 
relieve his poverty by plunder. To him it will be gratify- 
ing to learn that this principle is adopted by men of honor 
and of high standing. Whisper it to the innocent victim of 
another's perjury. He has languished in his dungeon, dread- 
ing conviction for an infamous crime, which he never con- 
templated; but now he learns that since we are not to 
consider the dishonesty of the means, but the desirableness 
of the end, the dagger of some friend can remove the 
lying accuser, and release him to freedom and to fame. 
You are startled at the proposal, and well you may; for 
never was a more atrocious and destructive principle insin- 
uated, than that the end justifies the means. Neither reason 
nor religion would require of you to lead an ignominious 
life; although both enjoin that you shall not use improper 
means to avoid that ignominy of which you are so appre- 
hensive. But what is this ignominy that you dread? Should 
you not dread the commission of crime more than any 
imputation ? The one is always a real and paramount evil, 
the other is often only imaginary and transient. He who 
would commit a crime, in order to avoid the mockery or 


the condemnation of the multitude, is a weak and an unprin- 
cipled man. You cannot do evil that good may arise 
therefrom ; such is the great principle of sound morality 
and of true honor. Is he who enters into this combat, in 
compliance with prejudices, or the partialities of the public, 
or to conform to a fashion whose principle he himself con- 
demns, an honorable man? That you are not to do evil 
is an absolute principle both of reason and 'of revelation ; 
hence we should, in considering the absolute good or evil 
of the means, throw the end out of our view. I shall 
now merely observe that the combatant who is roused by 
such a motive is a true coward, who, in the conflict 
between the fear of ridicule and the fear of crime, yields 
to the former. 

It is said that no species of moral courage exceeds that 
of a man who follows the dictates of his judgment or con- 
science, amidst the taunts and reproaches of the world. By 
this sort of courage, the ancients believed their far-famed 
Hercules was more distinguished than by his labors or vic- 
tories. Certainly our divine Redeemer taught admirable les- 
sons upon this subject ; the principles of His Gospel are 
the foundation of the most heroic fortitude, the purest 
honor, and the most unbending courage ; in His discourses, 
we find lessons which exceed the perfection of the most 
sublime philosopher as much as heaven exceeds the earth. 
But since, by some extraordinary fatality, whilst it is avowed 
that the practice of duelling is clearly condemned by the 
Christian law, persons, who profess to be observers of that 
law, attempt to vindicate the practice, and yet declaim 
against the application of the Gospel maxims in examining 
the subject, I have determined to be very sparing of any 
aid from that source ; especially as, even without such aid, 
I trust my object is attainable. Upon what ground can 
he who engages in a duel, through the fear of ignominy, 
lay claim to courage? His act is, as we have seen, and 
shall still more fully see, plainly immoral, and he offends 
God, because he fears the censure of men. They who pos- 


sess the high moral virtue of fortitude will endure the 
taunts and reproaches of the world, and submit willingly 
to torture of body and inquietude of mind, rather than 
act against the divine law, the law of conscience, or the 
just regulations of society; this is what I consider to be 
the true test of honor. Thus, to avoid ignominy is not a 
motive which would justify the performance of an unlawful 
action ; and no truly courageous man has ever yet fought 
from such a motive. Ignominy, as regards this practice, 
is a phantom to terrify the timid, to govern the weak, 
and to force cowards to assume the semblance of a virtue 
which they have not. Hence, it has frequently and justly 
been observed, that they who entered the field of single 
combat, to preserve their names from the post, were very 
inefficient comrades when armies rushed to the charge. Per- 
haps the following anecdote, which is given from highly 
respectable authority, would not lead far towards an oppo- 
site conclusion. 

At a period when duelling was not as much discounte- 
nanced as it ought to have been in the French army, a 
gentleman of very strict moral habits held a commission in 
a regiment, and having refused to accept an offered challenge, 
could not make either explanation or apology, without being 
guilty of the exposure of another, or of a falsehood, which 
he abhorred equally as he did the duel. His peculiar situ- 
ation did not permit his immediate compliance with several 
suggestions of retirement, and he had to endure the mor- 
tification of remarks and coldness, even at the common 
table, from his fellow-officers ; he was designated in their 
circle as " the coward." On a particular occasion, he 
was observed to remain long after the period at which 
he had latterly been accustomed to retire, and his feel- 
ings had been frequently and deeply wounded by the 
major, who had indeed seldom respected them. This officer, 
upon withdrawing, was quickly followed by him who had 
been the object of his reproach; and the company which 
they had left was soon summoned to an unexpected scene. 


At a short distance from the house, they found the major 
inquiring, with anxious gratitude, to whom he owed his- 
life, which had been assailed in the dark by three ruf- 
fians, and heard him receive the calm but emphatic answer 
" to the coward." One of the assailants lay a corpse, one 
seriously wounded, and the other was a disarmed prisoner 
in the coward's grasp. They had rushed upon a man 
unable to protect himself, and had been overcome by a 
man who had too much courage to be a duellist. To 
an almost involuntary expression of surprise, the only reply 
was: "Major! the God whom we profess to serve has 
ordered me to return good for evil; my life and my exer- 
tions are the property of my king and the French nation. 
I know when I ought to be prepared to lay down or to 
expose that life, as well as when I ought to preserve it; 
and I trust I shall be always ready to do my duty, and 
not to be drawn from its performance, by the unmeaning 
taunts of persons who have no opinion of their own, but 
are led by the caprice of others." To a request of the 
officer's that he should forget what had occurred, his reply 
was, that he had never borne any ill-will to those' who 
had ill-treated him; and that during the period of his stay 
there was no probability of any diminution of friendship, 
as he was preparing to join another regiment, into which 
he had obtained an exchange, and the officers of which 
held, he believed, principles congenial to his own. 

This might bear the semblance of what is made in 
romance, but let it be remembered that those books are 
given as an imitation of real life, and the testimony from 
which this has been received was unexceptionable. Proba- 
bly I shall not go too far, in making the assertion, that 
instances of such magnanimity, fortitude, and heroism are 
more frequent than we are supposed to believe. Human 
nature, thank God ! is not so universally depraved as to 
debase us all, and there are to be found this day, proba- 
bly, brave generals who could wipe the vile phlegm from 
their brow, and tell the brainless simpleton that caused it, 


as did a valiant man who led armies to victory : " Young 
man, you should suffer for your misdonduct, if I could 
as easily wipe your blood from my conscience, as I can 
your spittle from this forehead." Did his king or his army 
respect his head the less for that defilement? Does not 
his name stand higher in your estimation than if he had 
been the victor in a hundred duels? But you will answer 
me, that his character was his protection. Yes, my friends, 
it was, and so will it be the protection of every man who 
prefers the discharge of his duty to the indulgence of his 
passion, and who fears God, but who has no other fear. 
Such a man need not engage in a combat to avoid disgrace; 
the cloud of erroneous opinion may indeed obscure his 
disc, but it will be transient, and the restoration of his 
radiance will be more welcome. 

The duel for the protection of honor might be considered 
that to which I ought principally if not exclusively to 
have paid attention, since most of our modern combats are, 
or affect to be, of this description ; but I have preferred 
leaving it to the last, because an opportunity has been 
afforded of considering in the previous examination, espe- 
cially of the trial by combat to avoid disgrace, many prin- 
ciples which will bear with equal force upon this case. 
The grand distinction between this and the others is, that 
this appears to have less superstition and. more of what 
the world calls spirit. I freely concede that the plea in 
its favor is more specious, and the delusion which sur- 
rounds it is stronger. I have, therefore, reserved it for 
the purpose of being more fully met by the application of 
the general principles upon which all duels are condemned. 
For the reprobation of each kind, special names were ad- 
duced, which in each case bore upon the peculiar demerits 
of the particular species, nor is the reprobation of this 
without strong and powerful special arguments, the outline 
of which, only, I shall mark; and for the cause before 
assigned they must lose much of their strength in my 
prudent mode of using them, since this duel is peculiarly 


condemned by the Gospel, from the aid of which, on the 
present occasion, I have by advice, and upon consideration, 
almost debarred myself. But before I enter upon those 
special grounds, let us consider the general topic upon 
which every species of duelling is found to be immoral 
and unlawful. 

Man, being a creature, is amenable to his Creator ; and 
it is immoral in him to violate the law of that great Self- 
Existent to whom he owes the homage of all his faculties 
and the most perfect obedience. I shall assume, as granted, 
that the Almighty has made known to man His -canon against 
self-destruction. I assume, also, that an isolated human 
being, however unconnected he might be with his fellows, 
has not, morally speaking, from the Lord of life and death, 
the power of putting a period to his own existence ; but 
must await the summons of his Judge, either by the process 
of His general laAV or by some special message. I assume 
another principle as equally clear, that no individual has a 
natural right to take away the life of his fellow-man. And 
here a question arises, the examination of which becomes 
extremely important, but into the discussion of which I 
shall not now enter at any length. Whence is derived the 
right which States possess to punish malefactors by death ? 
"NY hence the right to slay in war, and whence the right of 
individuals to slay an unjust aggressor ? I answer : From 
Him who alone has the power to make the grant; from 
the Creator. Man not being, therefore, master of his own 
life, could not bestow what was not under his dominion, he 
could not give to society, nor to its government, nor to an 
individual, a title which did not exist in himself. Where 
distinct history and plain reason concur in exhibiting facts 
to us, it would be palpable folly on our part to resort to 
speculation and conjecture, to seek for the knowledge taught 
to us by this better mode. It is a fact that God has left 
to society the power or the right of regulating its various 
forms of civil government accommodated to its various cir- 
cumstances. But upon every regular government, thus created 


or accepted by the people, He bestows the powers necessary 
for the well-being of society, and amongst others that of 
punishing malefactors even capitally, that of repelling enemies 
even by the infliction of death, and of carrying war for just 
cause into their territories ; also, in cases of extreme neces- 
sity, where no other mode of preserving his own safety is- 
left to an individual, God and the government bestow upon 
him the right of guarding his own life by taking that of an 
unjust aggressor, but it is bestowed only in that extreme 
case, and under the double responsibility of him who uses- 
it to the tribunal of his country and the tribunal of his 
God. The evidence in support of these facts is plain and 
ample ; but it is one of our misfortunes that we too often 
desert the solid ground of fact to amuse ourselves in a spec- 
ulation which we miscall philosophy. 

Governments thus vested with power by God and by the 
people, by the Creator and by the creature, have regulated 
the great principles of social order by the light of reason, 
perhaps aided by the revelation of Him from whom reason 
emanates. One of their first principles is, that the unsettled 
differences of individuals shall be adjusted, not by the 
passions of the disputants or their friends, but by the tri- 
bunals of the nation. Were the power of inflicting death 
for offences taken from the impartial tribunals and vested 
in the interested individuals, what a scene of desolation 
would this world of ours present ! How would injury 
excite revenge, and revenge produce retaliation ! The sweet 
charities of life would be driven from our solace, and ruffian 
violence would stalk forth crushing as he proceeded in his 
horrid triumph. Where should we find the abode of virtue, 
the asylum of innocence, the safeguard of youth, or the pro- 
tection of age? Is the duellist to be their, bulwark? Or 
shall the unblushing transgressor of the first principle of 
social order presume to offer his offensive and unholy aid to 
sustain the sanctions of that law whose very sanctity he has 
disregarded? He has hurled down the judge, profaned the 
bench, insulted the legislature, usurped the high prerogative 


of heaven, and stood in open conflict with the Eternal ; and 
this unprincipled man, with honor on his lips and trans- 
gression in his acts, dares to say that in the indulgence of 
the malignant spirit of his revenge is to be found the 
salvation of good order! No! If we were to reduce this 
principle to practice, every man would stand armed against 
his brother, and in one century the generation of Adam 
would be extinguished by the fall of the last murderer upon 
the decaying limbs of his last victim, whilst the good angels 
would look down with horror and pity upon that spot over 
which demons exulted. The providence of heaven, to pre- 
vent this evil, has decreed that in the wildest horde which 
roves through our forests there should exist some semblance 
of a tribunal by which human life is saved from the 
malignity of human passion. 

Man, then, has not power over his own life. Society does 
not derive from individuals its power of taking away life. 
Although no injury should result to others from the death 
of an isolated man ; still he will be himself a criminal if he 
procures it; nor has he a right to concede to another what 
is not permitted to himself, much less is he justified in 
depriving another human being of life ; neither can he plead 
that he did it with the consent of him whom he slew. Such 
consent is a mockery ; it is a grant of what could not be 
given ; it is the assumption of what could not be taken ; it 
is an immoral, an irreligious usurpation of the prerogative 
of the Deity, who is the sole arbiter of life and death. What 
then shall we say of those who add to this crime the horrors 
of multiplied injustice and the laceration of feelings ; who 
inflict protracted and unutterable agony upon an innocent 
and impoverished family? Unfortunate delinquent! do you 
not see by how many links your victim was bound to a 
multitude of others? Does his vain and idle resignation 
of his title to life absolve you from the enormous claims 
which society has upon you for his services, his family for 
that support of which you have robbed them, without your 
own enrichment ; his tottering parents for their consolation, 


perhaps for the supply of their wants, and the helpless and 
indigent for that bread by which he sustained them? Who 
will give professions to his sons, who will cherish and protect 
his daughters? Was it honorable to plot in secret, and to 
perpetrate by stealth, the foul deed which has torn with so 
rude a shock the aifections of the wife of Ids bosom and 
children of his heart ? Go stand over that body ; call back 
that soul which you have driven from its tenement ; take 
up that hand which your pride refused to touch not one 
hour ago. You have in your pride and wrath usurped one 
prerogative of God. You have inflicted death. At least, in 
mercy, attempt the exercise of another; breathe into those 
distended nostrils, let your brother be once more a living 
soul. Merciful Father, how powerless are we for good, but 
how mighty for evil. Wretched man ! he does not answer ; 
he cannot rise. All your efforts to make him breathe are 
vain ; his soul is already in the presence of your common 
Creator ; like the \vretched Cain will you answer to the 
inquiring voice, "Am I my brother's keeper?" Why do 
you turn away from the contemplation of your own honor- 
able work? Yes, go as far as you will, still the admonition 
will ring in your ears, it was by your hand he fell ; the 
horrid instrument of death is still in that hand, and the 
stain of blood upon your soul. Fly, if you will, go to that 
house which you have filled with desolation. It is the shriek 
of his widow, they are the cries of his orphans, there are 
the broken sobs of his parent, and amidst the wailing of 
his family you distinctly hear the voice of imprecation on 
your own guilty head. Will your honorable feeling be 
content with this ? Have you now had abundant and gen- 
tlemanly satisfaction ? Or have you, too, received your 
death-wound, and what must be the agony which you endure 
at beholding now, forlorn, destitute, and overwhelmed, her 
to whom you swore protection, fidelity, love ; who is to 
watch over those lovely babes from whom you turn your 
aching eye. Oil ! what must be the feeling when a father 
cannot look with complacence upon his child ! You love 


them ; indeed you do, and all the affection of a parent 
rushes in accelerating fever through your frame and sustains 
life a little longer. But it throbs at your sinking heart 
and bewilders your tortured soul ; the agonies of one world 
and the horrors of another surround your bed of death, 
whilst the unsatisfied ghost of your opponent hovers above, 
shrieking the dismal summons to the bar of an insulted God. 
My friends, I paint no imaginary scene ; but I shall not 
detain you in the chamber of horrors ; let us depart from 
it to inquire into the nature of that honor, the mistakes 
concerning which produce such lamentable effects. 

Honor is the acquisition and preservation of the dignity 
of our nature ; that dignity consists in its perfection ; that 
perfection is found in observing the laws of our Creator ; 
the laws of the Creator are the dictates of reason and of 
religion ; that is, the observance of what He teaches us by 
the natural light of our own minds, . and by the special 
revelation of His will manifestly given. They both concur 
in teaching us, that individuals have not the dominion of 
their own lives, otherwise no suicide would be. a criminal. 
They concur in teaching us that we ought to be amenable 
to the laws of the society of which we are members, other- 
wise morality and honor would be consistent with the 
violation of law and the disturbance of the social system. 
They teach us that society cannot continue to exist, where 
the public tribunals arc despised or undervalued, and the 
redress of injuries withdrawn from the calm regulation of 
public justice, for the purpose of being committed to the 
caprice of private passion and the execution of individual 
ill-will. Therefore, the man of honor abides by the law 
of God, reveres the statutes of his country, and is respect- 
ful and amenable to its authorities. Such, my frienc 7 s, is 
what the reflecting portion of mankind has always thought 
upon the subject of honor. This was the honor of the 
Greek this was the honor of the Roman this the honor 
of the Jew this the honor of the Gentile this, too, was 
the honor of the Christian, until the superstition and bar- 


barity cf Northern devastators darkened his glory and 
degraded his character. 

Is not the pride of the American the predominance of 
the law ? Is not law itself the emanation of the public 
will, and is not submission to the public will the first 
principle of genuine republicanism? Are our governments 
so weak or so corrupt as to be unable to protect us, so 
that we must be thrown upon our individual and private 
resources, instead of looking to the power of the social 
compact and the guardianship of the social head? Shall 
we proclaim to the world, that we in South Carolina are 
brought back to such a state of dereliction that our public 
tribunals, the institutions of the country, the government 
itself cannot protect us from insult, and that we are thus 
reduced to the necessity of trusting to ourselves? Let not 
such a libel be handed over to the defaming press of 
Europe by an ungrateful progeny; let it not be said that 
none are safe from insult in republics, except they have 
been well trained to the use of the pistol or the rifle, 
or the dexterity of gouging ! Are those the emblems of 
honor? But why place the ruffian who plucks out your 
eye upon the same level with the gentleman who uses a 
pistol ? I acknowledge my error ; I ought not ; because the 
one deprives you of life, and perhaps of heaven, whilst the 
other only leaves you sightless. Still, though the injury is 
greater, the barbarity is not equal ; there is more refinement 
in one than in the other, but there is also more criminality; 
there is more apparent delicacy in the mode of violating the 
law, but the substantial violation is more enormous ; the crim- 
inal, in the one case, has fashionable fellow culprits in the 
other, he has the more recent impulse of strong passion. 
It is not for us to strike the ratio of their culpability ; 
their Judge and ours He who has forbidden murder, and 
also declared that whosoever would call his brother " thou 
fool," should be guilty of hell fire, will apportion their 
destiny. My present inquiry regards only the honor of the 
transaction, and I can measure out to the duellist merely 


us much of that excellent quality as is consistent with the 
violation of his duty as a rational being, as a religious 
being, as a member of society, and as the citizen of a 
State whose laws describe the offence as a felony. Patriot- 
ism, social order, religion, and reason, then, forbid me to 
designate as honorable this bad practice, which criminal 
fashion has too frequently promoted and encouraged. Being 
therefore evil in its own nature, it cannot be a proper 
jnode for the protection of honor. 

My friends, in what does this protection of honor con- 
sist? Ii) affording to its assailant the opportunity of destroy- 
ing your life, certainly at the risk of his own. What 
would you think of the wisdom and equity of that judge 
who should sentence a peaceable citizen, that had been 
assaulted, to suffer the same punishment as his convicted 
assailant? If you challenge the aggressor to fight, do you 
not inflict, upon your innocent and injured self, the same 
punishment as upon the offender? Admirable wisdom! But 
why do I seek for any semblance of reason, in what its own 
advocates avow to be defenceless, upon the principles of 
reason? They only attempt its palliation upon the plea of 
expediency. They tell us that the dread of the pistol pre- 
serves the decorum of society. Are we so fallen or 
<lebased as this? A vile fear is then the motive of gen- 
tlemanly conduct! Hear this, Carolinians! I will not under- 
take an elaborate defence ; adopted into your family, I see 
your faults, and I know your virtues : my own conscience 
and your candor will acquit me of flattery, when I pro- 
nounce the charge which this excuse would insinuate to be 
groundless. Your politeness has not been produced by 
pistol-discipline ; nor would you speedily degenerate from 
Avhat has been the characteristic of your fathers, were you 
bound to avoid this bad practice, by if possible stronger 
ties than those which the State, sound reason, and pure 
religion have imposed upon you. Shall it be again repeated 
that the good order, the dignity of our Southern society, is 
to be preserved in any measure by the pistol? No. If 


we may pay attention to occurrences, we must perceive that 
too often the intruder upon the polite circle is he who has 
made himself most formidable as a duellist, and that he 
whose deportment is most correct, is he who proclaims that 
he will not enter into such a combat. I need not inform 
a Charleston auditory that natural good qualities, improved 
by education and by opportunity, and not the terrors of 
ammunition, fashion the conduct of a gentleman ; and that 
respectable society is fully able, without violation of the 
.laws of God or of the State, or outraging the principles 
of reason, to banish from its circle, and frown down to his 
proper place, the individual who would violate its decorum. 
Again, it said, that there are injuries for which the laws 
neither do nor can provide redress, and to avenge which 
is the only mode that has been ever known or devised. I 
admit that there are injuries for which no compensation can 
be made to the suiferer, and for which the weakness of 
nature and the violence of passion prompt us to seek the 
most desperate revenge ; but, waiving every other answer, 
I ask, is it reasonable or religious for the injured man to 
expose himself to destruction ? I am told that, in such a 
case, I should speak of neither reason nor religion ; that 
the feelings of honor only must be attended to. When the 
two great lights of our nature have been cast away, and a 
desperate mortal surrenders himself to the guidance of a 
blind spirit of revenge, which he miscalls honor, it is as 
useless to urge argument, as it would be to discuss the 
principles of his derangement with a maniac; as hopeless 
to rely upon entirely, as it would be to soothe the famished 
tiger from his bleeding feast. There is, indeed, one mighty 
Being, who alone could, in such a moment, effect a miracu- 
lous change, and by His power subdue the rage of passion 
to that resignation which brings peace from heaven, and 
demands the homage of respectful sympathy from earth. 
But, though it be not in man's power to change the heart 
of man, still power is frequently given to him to arrest the 
progress of his brother to destruction. Thus, at least, the 


first fury of his passion will subside ; reflection, remonstrance, 
entreaty, and explanation will proceed, and God would 
perhaps crown the work by diffusing His light around, and 
speaking powerfully to the soul. He at whose word the 
winds are still, the sea is calm, and the perilled mariner 
is safe, might assuage the tempest of the mind, allay the 
madness of desperation, and save two fathers to their families t 
two citizens to the State, and two souls from perdition. 
Such,, gentlemen of the Anti-Duelling Association, is one of 
the principal objects of our society to volunteer our services 
in aid of the law of God and of our country; to restrain 
not by any arbitrary assumption of authority, but by the 
arm of the law, the unfortunate victim of a delusive passion, 
whilst he labors under its influence. 

But this restraint, it is said, will lead to assassination ; 
and who does not shudder at the idea of such a result? 
Is not duelling, however condemnable in itself, preferable 
to assassination? For one, though I were to stand alone 
in making the assertion, I deliberately say, No. They are 
both evils; if we are driven to a preference the lesser should 
be accepted. Generally speaking, the assassin is a greater 
criminal than the duellist, but duelling is a greater evil to 
society. That which is less destructive is less evil; that 
which excites more detestation will be more seldom engaged 
in and more speedily suppressed; it will therefore produce 
less mischief. Such is assassination. The assassin is not 
received into society; he who has slain his adversary in 
a duel too frequently is. The more delicate sex generally 
shrink from the former ; shall I charge them with abetting 
the crime by encouraging, or at least not disapproving of, 
the conduct of the latter? I shall not sit in judgment 
upon them ; let them answer for themselves. How many 
persons generally perish by the hand of the assassin through- 
out the world, in the lapse of a century ! Very probably 
a greater number has fallen in duels in France alone in 
less than twenty years, during the reign of Henry IV. 
Not only would the loss of life be incalculably less, but 


the moral sentiment of detesting murder would be better 
preserved. There is nothing more destructive to public 
virtue that to strip vice of its deformity. Since we have 
entered upon the distinguishing comparison, we may con- 
clude that the saving of human life would be great, the 
horror of slaughter would be stronger, the punishment of 
oulprits more certain and effectual, and the correct moral 
principles of society would be better preserved. It is upon 
those grounds that I stated my opinion that, in a public 
point of view, duelling is not preferable to assassination. 
There is besides another very material difference, that in 
the one case there are at least four guilty persons, both 
the principals and seconds, whilst the other crime is gen- 
erally perpetrated by an individual. There is little danger 
of having the great principles of morality sapped by the 
crime and punishment of such a culprit as Beauchamp ; 
but if the same bad passion, which was condemned in his 
act of assassination, had procured its vent with the same 
result to his miserable victim in a duel, instead of expia- 
ting the murder upon a gallows, the wretched Beauchamp 
would have been thoughtlessly received into several socie- 
ties as a meritorious man of undoubted valor. 

Gentlemen of the Anti-Duelling Association, it has been 
said that our society has done mischief, since no period has 
been more marked in this city for quarrels than that year 
which has witnessed our union. Of course it is assumed that 
since they have occurred at this time they must have been 
produced by the formation of our body. I am not prepared 
to admit the fact ; and even if admitted, the semblance of 
its reasoning is but a common sophism, for coexistence does 
not necessarily involve connection. But suppose them to 
have been so caused, it is but one of those temporary incon- 
veniences which is always looked for upon any change. You 
can say better than I can whether the charge itself is true; 
my impression is against its correctness. The year just 
elapsed lias presented in this city a novel feature, to the 
examination of which, and of everything connected therewith, 


unusual attention was paid, and occurrences which at other 
times would have been unnoticed or disregarded, became not 
only matters of observation, but of remark and of some 
ephemeral importance ; the very character of the transaction 
lias done much to promote our object. But that novelty has 
now passed away; and surely, in our mixed state of good 
and evil, we ought not, because of a few inconveniences, 
desist from making every exertion to attain the paramount 
good of establishing a general conviction, that true honor is 
incompatible with the indulgence of passion, the injury of 
public morals subversive of the fundamental principles of 
society, 'and opposed to the laws of the State, to the per- 
vading maxims of the good and the wise of every civilized 
nation in every age of the world, and to the eternal will of 
the most high God. Let us then continue our efforts to 
subdue by the arm of the law, which is and which ought to 
be every American's beloved protector, the temporary mad- 
ness to which, owing to the imperfection of our nature and 
the violence of passion, the best amongst us might sometimes 
be liable ; and to declare to our fellow-citizens that we look 
upon true honor to be the accurate fulfillment of the laws 
of God and of the State, and that its highest grade is to 
be found in him who sacrifices his passions upon the altar 
of his duty. Thus shall we, at least, save our consciences 
from reproach and our names from inconsistency. Let us 
be moderate but firm ; and as we claim over our fellow - 
citizens no precedence in virtue, in understanding, or in 
power, we shall not pretend to any exemption from the 
common frailties of our nature, to any right of dictation, or 
to any color of office, whilst we use that power which they 
and we possess in common, to proclaim our sentiments freely, 
and to co-operate in the execution of that code which but 
expresses the will of that State to which we owe allegiance 
and the behests of that God to whom we owe perfect 

On former occasions, the presence of ladies at the tourna- 
ment excited all the ardor of those who sought distinction 


in the lists ; notwithstanding the edicts, the censures, and 
the denunciations of religion and the law, the radiance of 
beauty flung its halo around the field. If. the troubadour 
sought to inspirit the youthful warrior, the smile of some 
damsel was the reward which he promised as the rich 
requital of his bold achievement. Thus, too often has the 
influence of the more virtuous sex been turned to hurtful 
or to unprofitable account. May we not hope for powerful 
aid from the daughters of Carolina in the cause of virtue 
and of honor? In the day of trial, then, mothers were found 
faithful to their country and its rights ; they encouraged 
their husbands, their brothers, and their sons to exhibit 
their prowess, not in disgraceful domestic feuds, but in 
deeds of valor for the defence of their homes and the vin- 
dication of their freedom; they were proud to see them 
marshalled under the command of Washington, who was 
too intrepid to accept a challenge. Did they fall in the 
field of true honor, those women gave tears to nature, and 
affection to the memory of those whose blood became the 
cement of that Union in which was found safety to their 
friends and glory to their nation. Daughters of such 
mothers ! are our arguments founded upon true principles 
and glaring facts ? Are you satisfied that the practice of 
duelling is one of the worst remnants of pagan barbarity? 
Do you believe it to be unnecessary for preserving the 
refinement of our Southern society? Then be you our lead- 
ers in the sacred effort to identify laAV and honor, reason 
and the deportment of the gentleman, and to establish a 
wide distinction between the assertion of dignity and the 
indulgence of passion. 


THAT learning is useful for the purpose of perfecting 
civilized society, has been so frequently repeated, and so 
generally and unhesitatingly received as a maxim, that no 
one would be found to question its truth. But probably one 
of the greatest evils which accompanies the spontaneous 
assent to evident propositions is, that being generally couched 
in universal terms, their expression becomes ambiguous; and 
whilst words are preserved, ideas may be lost. Would 
it not then be desirable sometimes to revert to those 
maxims in order to fix their meaning by elucidating their 

Literature has usually been considered under a twofold 
aspect: speculative and practical; whilst the former merely 
regards abstract truth, the latter applies it to our concerns. 
I am inclined to believe that there exists much less of 
merely speculative learning than is generally supposed, and 
that w r hat frequently receives this appellation is but the 
appropriate basis upon which is raised the great super- 
structure of that which is practical. If I be correct in this 
view, it will greatly narrow the inquiry which I propose to 
make. Allow me, therefore, to illustrate by example rather 
than to establish by theory what will, I trust, justify me in 
assuming this position. 

The demonstrations of mathematics and the calculations 
of algebra would, by several persons, be instantly denom- 
inated speculative; and even some might be found who 
would call their study idle : but abandon them, and see 

1 An address delivered May 9, 1832, before the Literary and Philosophical 
Society of South Carolina, on the occasion of its Anniversary. 



how much practical knowledge you destroy. The surveyor, 
the engineer, the architect, the ship-builder, and many 
others, will immediately experience the most sensible checks 
in their several pursuits. The observations of the heavens, 
the calculation of the paths of the planets, of the distances- 
of the stars, their magnitude, relation, and position, would 
seem to have little influence upon the ordinary avocations 
of busy life ; it might specially be supposed that they have 
no connection whatever with mercantile transactions ; yet it 
is clear that the science of navigation depends chiefly upon 
astronomy, and the interchange of commodities is carried on 
through navigation ; and thus much of the profit derived by 
the modern active merchant from the facilities of our age 
has been remotely created by the researches of some secluded, 
contemplative sage whose bones have mouldered in former 
centuries, either in Chaldea or in Egypt. How well may 
we compare the results of learning to the action of the 
human frame. We can seldom detect the original source, 
and we are altogether ignorant of the principle of motion - f 
so the great bulk of men observe clearly the continued 
effects of causes which to them are totally unknown. Place 
the rude canoe and a steam frigate side by side ; erect the 
wigwam upon the area of the capitol ; bring the accom- 
plished surgeon or the reflecting physician to the desolate 
child of the forest, who lies mangled or gasping near the 
uncouth weapon of the chase ; send a competent master on 
board of that vessel to bring joy and safety to an exhausted 
crew who, since the loss of their leader, have been worn 
down by exertion and fatigue, sailing in a variety of direc- 
tions, unable to make any harbor and totally ignorant as to 
whither they have been driven. In all these cases the utility 
of practical learning will be admitted ; but in most of those 
instances the knowledge which confers the unquestioned 
benefit is evidently founded upon what many persons have 
designated abstract or speculative science. But I will go 
farther and will not hesitate to say that in nearly all the 
ordinary concerns of life this science produces the most 


beneficial effects, without vainly exhibiting its agency; whilst 
we, who have lived only in polished or civilized society, 
view those very effects as the results of unaided nature ; 
just as those Eastern beings, who have never gone beyond 
the precincts of their own palaces and gardens, and upon 
whose presence even the cultivator or the artist must not 
intrude, can form no idea of what aspect the uncultivated 
mountains would present; nor of the labor and industry 
that have been expended to produce those scenes with which 
they have always been familiar, and which they regard as- 
being natural. 

It might be then inquired whether there exists any merely 
speculative science, that is, any which is not applicable to 
the common purposes of life. I am inclined to believe that 
there does not. My conclusion is founded upon a view of 
particulars, and in this view I think that I embrace all 
necessary to make the enumeration perfect. Let us chiefly 
take up what arc usually designated as the learned 

Law should be considered under its twofold aspect, leg- 
islation, or the creation of appropriate rules of conduct,, 
together with their sanction ; and judgment, or the applica- 
tion of those laws, as well by the enforcement of the rule 
as by the punishment of the offender. Here life, liberty, 
property, public peace, private security, and a great variety 
of the principal concerns of man in his earthly career are 
deeply and perpetually implicated. Besides that severe 
mental discipline and habitual restraint which arise from 
a good education and a regular exercise of the superior 
faculties, a nice power of discrimination, extensive acquaint- 
ance with ancient legal enactments of the several civilized 
nations, the circumstances which called them into existence, 
their mode of operation, the knowledge of how far they 
proved remedial or useful, by what means they degenerated 
or became injurious, perverted, or abused, will be at least 
highly desirable ; to which should be added, familiarity with 
their history, as also the intimate observation of the actual 


.state of society, and generally of the human character. It 
must be confessed that here there is much of what is usually 
called practical rather than speculative science. But to con- 
verse beneficially with the ancient legislators and moralists, 
we must speak their language. It is true, that an interpreter 
might be employed; but which of us would feel himself 
justified, under the pretext of having a translator, and saving 
more time to study facts in preference to words, by neglect- 
ing the study of those languages which had during centuries 
been used in the republic of letters, to restrict his intercourse 
with the most distinguished citizens of the civilized world? 
But if we give the principle to which I here allude its full 
play, we shall not have left to us even the interpreter 
himself; since if the acquisition of languages be a waste 
of time, no person should be encouraged to extravagance. 
Whatever my respect might be for gentlemen who think 
differently, I am clearly of opinion that a perfect knowledge 
of the ancient languages is required for the study of ancient 
documents and of ancient history, and that such learning is 
far from being unnecessary for an accomplished legislator. 
It is to him the experience of several ages. 

It is not unfrequently urged against this position that we 
have seen in these republics many instances of great men 
who have well discharged their duty without these aids. I 
do not question the truth of the assertion ; but my inference 
would be that they would have done better had they been 
.so aided. It is added that men of this description have, in 
some instances, outstripped those of classical attainments. I 
would only reply, that with the help of those attainments, 
.they would have gone farther. I am equally far from sup- 
posing that what is useful is all-sufficient, as I am from 
imagining that every rule is without an exception, or that a 
prodigy is an ordinary production. As well might it be 
argued, that the improvements which produce speed and 
comfort in our packets are useless, because our rivers and 
our seas were passed before their introduction. I have 
arrived then at the conclusion, that for the legislator the 


perusal of ancient documents is extremely valuable; and 
that as they can be best understood in their original phrase- 
ology, the study of the languages in which they are written 
is not, for him, a mere speculative engagement, but a useful 
portion of practical literature. 

The judicial application of the law requires all the critical 
qualifications of the legislator in a more perfect degree, 
because, for this purpose, the object and meaning of the 
statute or custom must be perfectly comprehended : not 
only must its principles be appreciated, but the fair excep- 
tions should be known with equal accuracy as the rule itself: 
the judge should be familiar with the great maxims of 
evidence, by whose aid facts will be clearly developed and 
placed in their proper and precise station, for the purpose 
of learning how far they come under the operation of the 
enactment. Xor can the jurist who is to arrange and bring 
his case under the observation of the court be less able to 
make that disposition of his materials without serious injury 
to the client, who, relying upon his capacity, has placed his 
interests in his hands. How much, then, of what is thought- 
lessly called speculative learning, is of absolute practical 
necessity to the sages of the bench and the members of the 
bar? He who will make ancient language and ancient 
history his study, and will look patiently to their mutual 
aid for their mutual explanation, will discover treasures of 
ancient lore, which the half-informed pronounce, hastily, to 
be barbarism, because in a different state of society from that 
to which we are accustomed they aptly provided for the 
public weal, by remedies which would be equally unsuited 
to our circumstances as our regulations would be inappli- 
cable to the customs of that age. Their laws and ours, like 
tho coin of different nations, bear different devices and unlike 
inscriptions, but each is plate or bullion ; and he who pos- 
se, scs both is richer than is the one who in fastidious self- 
sufficiency flings either away. Certainly, he who could acquire 
coin of only one description would act prudently in prefer- 
ring that which is current where he sojourns : and if the 



contracted mind or the curtailed opportunities of a profes- 
sional man compelled him to be satisfied with only an 
alternative, the language which is now used, and the laws 
now in force, demand his preference ; but if his leisure and 
opportunities will allow him to extend his studies, the added 
wealth of ancient times will better qualify him for enacting, 
for expounding, and for applying the provisions of the law 
to the circumstances by which he is surrounded. 

Let us view the requisite qualifications for a useful member 
of the medical faculty, or for an accomplished and scientific 
surgeon. Besides that power of acute perception with which, 
as a kind of instinct, a man might be specially gifted, so as 
almost intuitively to detect the seat, the nature, and the 
extent of a disease, it is highly desirable that the mind 
should have been so disciplined as to avoid the hasty 
conclusions to which* an overweening and too confident self- 
sufficiency would rush. The general and usual diagnostics 
are greatly modified by the habits of the individual, by the 
influence of climate, by the period of life, by the previous 
treatment, and by a number of other peculiarities which vary 
to an indefinite extent. If the truth of the admonition, 
festina lente, can be more usefully practical in any one case 
than another, it is here. Genius, decision, and action quick 
as thought can often do much for life and health ; but, 
unfortunately, they may also, by one mistake, fix the irrevo- 
cable doom of the patient. It is not by the knowledge of 
the names of diseases and of their usual stages ; it is not by 
the repetition of the vocabulary of a dispensary, and an 
acquaintance with some of the chief properties of drugs ; 
it is not from the hasty, wanton mangling of a decaying 
subject, and possessing a general notion of the uses of bones, 
muscles, and vessels, that correct and useful medical skill 
is acquired. No; it is by the laborious investigation of a 
clear, calm, and cautious mind. No reading can supply the 
want of judgment, but no power of judgment Avill avail 
much without facts upon which its decisions may be formed. 
An original and distinct perception united to deliberate 


reflection and steady habit of observation form the best 
foundation for useful healing knowledge; and every mode, 
by which these faculties can be improved, is an important 
branch of previous education. 

I would here ask whether, generally speaking, the mind 
is prepared to receive the seeds of science by what is usually 
known as ordinary school discipline. I know not much the 
opinion of others, but I have formed my own. I would 
unhesitatingly say, No ! And my impression is that it 
would be just as reasonable for the planter to expect a 
superior crop from an unprepared soil as it would be to 
look for medical or surgical proficiency from the attendance 
upon lectures by a half-educated youth, let his abilities be 
what they may. Whoever, either from his own experience 
or the testimony of others, is acquainted with the progress 
of knowledge amongst students, must at once concede that 
even the best-prepared tyro in science will lose at the com- 
mencement far more than is usually supposed, from the 
mere inability of an untrained mind to comprehend the 
views or to keep pace with the strides of an experienced 
proficient. "We are the creatures of individual habit; no 
speculative observation will supply the place of training ; it 
will certainly do much to improve the observer; but it will 
never, even in a moderately remote degree, be equally bene- 
ficial. It is true, you may sometimes meet with apparent 
exceptions to this rule, but I apprehend, that upon examina- 
tion they will not be found such in reality. As there are 
men of great natural strength of body, of well-regulated 
courage and extraordinary agility, who will always be an 
overmatch for the best-trained individuals of puny frame and 
nervous debility; so in the literary world, there are those to 
whom God has given great mental energy, but to which 
power man has added little cultivation ; such persons will 
always surpass these others, upon whom great human labor 
has been comparatively lost, because the Creator has with- 
held the necessary share of capacity. I need not, with you, 
dwell upon the impropriety of raising a sophism upon this 


fact. I believe you will agree with me, that they whom 
this delusion could influence are not of the race of intel- 
lectual giants. Yet, in a community like ours, where there 
exists a general ambition to obtain the honors and emolu- 
ments of the learned professions in the shortest possible 
time, with the least possible expenditure, and only that 
quantity of exertion which will barely suffice, there must 
always be a disposition to dispense, as far as possible, with 
extensive preparatory education. When we add to this, that 
self-love which, in every individual, creates partiality and 
great esteem for l\imself, and for all his connections ; and 
take into account a propensity to draw conclusions rather 
from possibilities and the imaginary fitness of things, than 
from observation and fact, we need not be surprised at the 
prevalent disposition to dispense with altogether, or greatly 
to curtail, those preliminary modes of mental exercise which 
discipline the understanding and regulate the judgment ; 
we need not be astonished, that, by several persons, the 
information which I would call practically useful will be 
denominated speculative. Under this head, I would class 
especially, mathematical, arithmetical, and metaphysical rea- 
soning. The mind, thus prepared, will be more powerful, 
more attentive, more patient, more discriminating, and more 
expert. The attendance upon a single course of scientific 
lectures, by a person thus prepared, will generally be far 
more beneficial than the same course thrice attended by 
the same person, without this previous exercise. 

Medicine is a more extensive school than that of law. 
Every observation which I have made regarding the utility 
of the dead languages to the lawyer, will apply with at least 
equal force in this school. It is in those languages that one 
will best converse with the great fathers of the science ; it 
is in those peculiar idioms, of which no translation can 
convey the spirit which yet dwells in the original, that the 
very soul of the master is discovered. The structure and 
organization of the human frame is everywhere the same ; 
and the science of healing its diseases is one of universal 


interest. Wherever the victim of the original malediction 
is found, whether at the equator or near the pole, in China, 
in California, upon the Mississippi, the Ganges, the Danube, 
or the Nile; in the monarch's palace, or in the Arab's tent; 
whether he discourses in the halls of the academy or encoun- 
ters the lion or the panther in the recesses of the forest, or 
under the open canopy of heaven ; whatever be the tinge 
of his complexion, or the quality and form of his vesture 
he is equally a child of Adam, and not only bone of his 
bone, and flesh of his flesh, but moreover liable to all those 
disorders which that flesh is heir to. The necessity of 
studying and remedying or alleviating those disorders is, 
and has always been, and will always continue to be, a 
universal and an important concern. The subject of those 
disorders being, then, everywhere the same, and the attention 
of so many persons of various nations and ages having been 
given to the improvement of the science of healing, nothing 
can be more beneficial, or desirable, or proper, than that 
the good meu so employed should possess the faculty of 
communicating, with ease and precision, to their brethren 
throughout the world, the useful discoveries which they 
make ; and thus rapidly give to each individual of the 
fraternity the benefit derived from the experience of the 
whole body. This can only be continued, as it has hereto- 
fore been effected, by the preservation of a common language, 
the meaning of whose terms is not liable to change, and 
which is more or less prevalent throughout the regions of 
science and civilization, all over the universe. In this view, 
I fearlessly assert, that an accurate and extensive knowledge 
of the Greek and Latin languages, so far from being 
speculative or unnecessary literature, is essential for the 
preservation and perfection of medical knowledge and surgery. 
Allow me to add one other observation. The names of 
drugs, of Chemical, mineral, and botanical productions, of 
which such extensive use is made, are, I may say, altogether 
in those languages, and certainly the vernacular appellations 
of substances in one region would be unintelligible in 


another ; and whosoever would profit by foreign research, 
or turn the discovery of another to account, must be at least 
acquainted with the tongue in which he speaks. The acqui- 
sition by all, then, of a few common languages, so far from 
being a useless waste of time and labor, is to the physician 
the saving of both ; because it relieves him from the neces- 
sity of , acquiring several new dialects, that he may converse 
with men of science ; or, in case of neglect, he cannot profit 
by their labors, he must have his knowledge greatly abridged, 
he must be dependent upon his own experience and that 
of the comparatively small number by whom he is sur- 
rounded. In fact, the want of such a medium of scientific 
intercourse would be equivalent to a professional exclusion 
of each nation from the remainder of the universe. And 
what would now add to this evil, is the fact that the present 
nomenclature is, to those who are critically acquainted with 
the languages, an extremely well-regulated mode of instantly 
and exactly bringing several useful and important facts, 
regarding the nature of diseases and remedies, before the 
mind, with the lightest possible tax upon the memory. 
Thus, to the physician, the labor of a few years in child- 
hood is, in fact, the economy of a large portion of his after 
life, and the greatest aid to his accuracy in practice. For 
him. a large portion of what is hastily called speculation is 
the basis of truly practical knowledge. 

My own peculiar situation, as well as the state of our 
religious society, preclude details regarding the science of 
theology. I shall merely observe that nearly all the prin- 
ciples that have been applied respecting the two professions 
which I have reviewed, are equally of force here. I shall 
make but a single statement regarding that science in the 
Church to which I belong; and in doing so, I would not 
be understood to insinuate any contrast to any other society, 
but merely to testify a fact for the purpose of sustaining 
the conclusion which I am anxious to support In our 
view, the science of theology docs not, in the whole system 
of revealed religion, recognize a single speculative opinion, 


but views the entire as a collection of facts, whose truth is 
to be ascertained by the most strict application of the 
ordinary rules of evidence. Supposing them to have been 
thus demonstrated, it considers every one of them to have 
an important bearing, not only upon the moral conduct of 
man in this transitory world, but upon his happiness or 
misery in that which is eternal. Thus we assume that in 
what is called speculative or dogmatical theology there does 
not exisist one merely speculative opinion. The Church 
itself is considered as a numerous society, whose discipline 
is law, one portion of which is a constitution that is con- 
sidered permanent and unchangeable, another portion consists 
of statutes enacted by the universal legislature for the 
universal body, or by the local authorities for their particular 
districts. The enactment, repeal, amendment, and application 
of those laws must be governed by the same principles that 
regulate all other descriptions of correct legislation and judg- 
ment. However, upon this topic I do not wish to proceed 
farther, nor indeed is it necessary for my present purpose ; 
I only desired to show that in each of the learned professions 
the usual classical education was an exceedingly useful 
preparation for the professional study itself; and I believe 
that I have made a sufficiently extensive enumeration, with 
observations calculated to show that, in preparing for the 
learned professions at least, what is too generally pronounced 
to be speculative literature is but the proper foundation for 
that which is truly practical. 

I do not undertake to defend the abuses of the schools 
or of systems, nor to deny that there did exist a very injudi- 
cious mode of what was called "sharpening the mind," by 
habituating it to distinguish when there existed no ground 
for distinction ; to affect doubt, where not only was common 
sense satisfied, but one would scarcely find room to thrust 
the other ingredients of a syllogism between the plain 
maxim and the palpable conclusion : neither will I make 
common cause with those superlatively ingenious disputants 
who demanded, for maxims, proof beyond the universal 


testimony of common sense; and who would set up the 
assumed possibility of a doubt as of sufficient weight to- 
counterbalance an ascertained fact. It is true that, at a 
former period, the schools of Europe trained up many of 
their students in an excess of this mode of exercise ; it is 
true that the technical phraseology which they used wa& 
harsh and barbarous. But it is equally true, though perhaps 
it is unfashionable to make the statement, that many of the 
persons who in those days had to contend with disadvantages, 
which we might imperfectly describe but can never feel, 
have left us the evidence of the prowess which was then in 
existence. This is not the place, nor this the occasion, to 
say how many of the productions of those times Have 
perished, like the glories of ancient Egypt, leaving but a 
few heavy pyramids and some splendid ruins to testify, 
amidst the lasting desolation, that before the day of wreck 
there was an age of genius. 

During centuries, the way to the temple of literature 
has been through the halls of the ancients, and the languages 
of the republic of science have been .principally the Greek 
and Roman; especially and more generally the latter. They 
who have been eminent in these great departments of knowl- 
edge, were made familiar with these tongues by their early 
and assiduous conversation amongst the classic authors. 
As it has sometimes happened that a nation has been 
assailed with the arms furnished from her own arsenal, so 
has the study of the classics been chiefly, and most for- 
midably and adroitly, decried by men whose minds were 
amply furnished from these extensive and varied stores. 
We have occasionally, it is true, beheld some gigantic 
warrior, careless of discipline, untutored in tactics, and 
despising evolutions, rush boldly into the fight and spread 
destruction and terror for a time ; the contusions of his 
uncouth mace gave to the carcasses of his victims an 
appearance even more horrid than that of death; but when 
the first emotions subsided, and his manner was observed, 
how easily was he overcome ! The transient success which 


he obtained was the result of the mighty force, with which 
he had been originally gifted, and the unusual mode in, 
which he made his assault; but had he added to his 
natural prowess the advantages of discipline, how much 
more formidable would he have been ! The war-cry of 
such a combatant excited attention ; an unusual interest 
was felt on his behalf; in his own person, he for a time 
seemed to furnish a practical illustration of the soundness 
of his cause. Yet, I would ask, to what are we to attribute 
that suggestion which is continually urging the observer 
to make considerable allowance in favor of such men because 
of their want of regular education, if it be not a universal 
concession that the mind thereby prepared is made therefore 
superior? For why should anything be conceded because 
of the neglect of classical education, if the want of that 
disciplinary course be not a manifest disadvantage ? 

The principal objection of those who would discontinue 
the study of the ancient classics is the alleged waste of time. 
They thus assume the very point at issue that the time is 
wasted. They attempt to prove the waste by the new 
assumption that no advantage is derived from the study. 
I have endeavored to show that the advantages were very 
great indeed. Conceding them to be great, they assert 
that the time and the means consumed are beyond .the 
value of the acquisition. To sustain this position, they 
assume that, during the whole period in which the study 
of those authors is continued, the students have little or 
no other occupation. Such, however, is not the fact. This 
is not the place to enter into details, but it will easily be 
perceived that in a well-regulated course, though the classics 
appear to be the principal, because of the prominent objects,, 
yet there are a multitude of others which, as an aggregate,, 
equal, if they do not exceed, the quantity that occupies the 
foreground. It is stated that the time given to this useless 
occupation would be better devoted to more practical studies, 
which are omitted on its account. I apprehend the argument 
would be found quite defective if it were required to specify, 


on one side, what the more practical omitted studies are ; 
and then the occupations of a judiciously arranged course 
of education were exhibited in contrast ; for not only would 
the object of these particular studies be found not omitted, 
but it would be seen that their perfect attainment was 
facilitated by the very means which were said to impede 
their acquisition. . 

Objections have frequently been made to the works used 
in the acquirement of those languages. They are said to 
be calculated to pervert the judgment, to delude and corrupt 
the imagination, and to taint the heart ; perhaps I would be 
more accurate in saying that the allegation is, they tend to 
confirm its depravity. Were either of these statements sus- 
tained by evidence, I trust our society would be one of the 
last to encourage the destruction of the mental powers, or 
to ruin the eternal prospects of the children of Carolina ; 
and if the classic authors usually read in schools were fitted 
to ends so mischievous, we would, indeed, be criminal in 
the highest degree by continuing or by encouraging their 
use. But let us not too hastily decide. 

I know it is fashionable to decry almost the whole body 
of those men whom the civilized world, during ages, has 
regarded as learned. Men who have never read a page of 
their works have passed judgment upon them; persons who 
<lo not understand their language have furnished essays upon 
their demerits ; they who know nothing of either the pecu- 
liarities of their situation, the circumstances of the nations 
in which they lived, the genius of their age, or the objects 
they had in view, have condemned them. For some it was 
convenient, for others it was easy ; where the bold and the 
reckless lead the way, and some of the leaders are distin- 
guished, it becomes as facile as it is fashionable for the 
multitude to follow ; and he who hesitates is perhaps under- 
valued. We can easily observe how the great bulk of 
mankind is led along in fashion, in party, in taste, in politics, 
in amusement. Boldness, perseverance, zeal, and tact in 
turning favorable circumstances to account, will generally 


insure success. Hence, though it be fashionable amongst a 
large class of our modern writers to cast obloquy upon the 
genius and acquirements of from twelve to fifteen centuries, 
the individual who addresses you must be permitted to say 
that he cannot unite in the vituperation. His own vision 
may be imperfect, or it may be that he mistakes the 
phantoms of imagination for the realities of life ; and if it 
be a misfortune, he is unfortunate in common with a large 
portion of the great lights of our latter age ; men in whose 
track he is proud to follow at a mighty distance. Though 
he be not "habituated to swear to the words of any master," 
yet he pays great deference to the united judgment of the 
learned men of every age and every nation of the civilized 
Avorld; and, with very few exceptions, they have, by their 
precepts and their practice, exhibited the classic authors of 
Greece and Rome as the most correct models upon which 
to form the judgment of the literary student. To the mind's 
eye of him who stands before you, these witnesses appear 
venerable on both sides of the Bosphorus ; rising up in 
the more polished parts of Asia, upon the continent and in 
the islands of Greece, spread along the northern coast of 
Africa, as also through Italy, Gaul, and Spain, during some 
centuries. It is true that the brilliancy of this scene was, 
for a time, overshadowed by the clouds of the tempestuous 
Korth and the desolating East. But as the atmosphere 
became attenuated, the beams of knowledge again diffused 
their cheering influence. Much has been swept away by 
the ruinous flood ; but the cultivation became more widely 
extended, many of the former regions of science again pro- 
duce their flowers and their fruits ; Britain, Germany, and 
even Scandinavia herself became mellowed and fertile. In 
all those places the classic authors have been principally 
used for the direction of the judgment and the improvement 
of the taste ; here, too, does he find many witnesses, and 
their succession continues. They appear also respectable and 
comparatively numerous at our side of the Atlantic. And 
though the speculative mind should indulge the inquiry as 


to the mode in which they aid the judgment and improve 
the taste, and should declare itself unsatisfied with the 
philosophy of the explanation, yet the fact would not be 
the less obvious, and its nearly universal admission might 
be reasonably considered as good evidence as that which we 
have of our power of motion, though some abstruse inves- 
tigators might be disposed to question the existence of even 
this too, as they can discover neither its origin nor process. 
Will not the architect be greatly improved by the study 
of the ancient models? Does not the painter eagerly review 
the productions of former masters ? Would the works of 
Phidias or of Praxiteles be useless to the sculptor? It is 
true, he might employ himself beneficially in contemplating 
those of Canova, of Thorwaldsen, and of Chantry : but why 
should even the torsos and fragments of former ages be cast 
away? Will the jurist make no useful acquirement by 
studying the disused or the repealed code, or the obsolete 
pleadings of his mighty predecessors? Though he should 
not find them obviously applicable to his immediate purposes, 
yet will they expand his mind, extend his views, confirm 
his knoAvledge of principles, and render him more acute in 
the investigation and arrangement of his facts. Thus will 
he be better qualified to turn to useful account the science 
that bears upon the very business in which he is engaged. 
The study of these ancient authors is not only useful to 
guide the judgment and to correct the taste, but to refine 
and warm some of our best affections. When the cloak of 
Cincinnatus is . flung upon the shoulders of Washington, 
the coldness of even affected philosophy will thaw in the 
glow of that current which diffuses life and heat and ardor 
through the frame of the patriot; and the energy of his 
feeling has already secured in action that result, regarding 
whose attainment our semblance of reasoning would be only 
commencing its calculation. It is not so easy to give a 
demonstration of the mode in which the ardor is excited, 
as it is to prove that excitement itself exists ; neither is it 
so perfectly within our reach to determine the process by 


which our faculties are improved as to observe and to 
testify the improvement. The principle upon which the 
human mind is formed, the springs of action, and the 
workings of the human heart, are alike impervious to human 
observation ; perhaps there is only one eye in the universe 
by which they are clearly discernible ; and hew immense 
is the distance between its strength and the weakness of 
ours ? Shall we then deny the plain results of the experi- 
ence of centuries, because we cannot perhaps give a demon- 
stration from principle ? To my view this would not be 
the perfection of wisdom ; the larger portion of the little 
that we know has been derived from the observation of 
facts ; we have very little, indeed, scarcely any, that is the 
mere deduction from principle ; and though I have the full 
conviction that I am surrounded by my friends, still I am, 
as yet, altogether a stranger to the principle upon which 
consciousness accompanies vision; and I must candidly avow, 
that it is not by the aid of my philosophy I have become 
convinced of your presence. 

The experience of the learned world has testified gener- 
ally in favor of classical education, for directing the judg- 
ment and correcting the taste in composition, as well as 
for opening vast stores of useful information upon several 
of the most important subjects of practical science and his- 
torical details. My object not being to enter at large upon 
the vindication of the opinions which I communicate, nor 
to refute at length those from which I dissent, but rather 
to bring the topics under your consideration, and to sug- 
gest the points which would seem to demand special atten- 
tion, I shall not enter farther upon the subject. To me, 
individually, the testimony to which I point is sufficient. 

But, if I were insensible to the varied beauties of Vir- 
gil, the power of Demosthenes, the simplicity of Caesar, the 
polish of Horace, the sublimity of Homer, the wit of 
Lucian, the neatness of Epictetus, and the perfection of so 
many other models of composition ; if, in addition to all 
this, I held in no estimation men whose names have been 


rescued by admiring multitudes, in every age, from the 
grasp of death, that fame should preserve them burnished 
if the structure of my mind differed so widely from 
that of the great bulk of my fellow-mortals and that, 
considering my own judgment and my own feelings the 
only tribunal by which I should be guided, I should find 
myself alone or with few associates; I might claim indeed 
to be unmolested, though I could not reasonably expect to 
have that which was esteemed valuable destroyed, because 
of the singularity of my notions. There is, perhaps, no 
truth, except a palpable fact or a manifest principle, which 
has not some opponents ; and even here, perhaps, I would 
be warranted in striking out the exception, for Dagouner 
denied that there existed a negative proposition; and I 
have known an ingenious scholar who asserted that all 
mathematical reasoning was fallacious, because it flowed from 
first principles that were absurd, viz : the definitions of a 
point of a line and of a superficies. Hence, the dissent 
of some respectable men and good scholars, united to the 
declaration of some unlettered though vigorous-minded 
writers, weighs, I believe, but lightly against the general 
testimony in favor of the benefits conferred by an intimate 
acquaintance with the select writers of antiquity; and those 
which remain to us are merely a selection from the mighty 
mass, of which the vastly greater portion has perished. 
Should I be asked to explain philosophically the process 
by which the beneficial effect is produced, I will avow 
that it is as far beyond my power to undertake the specific 
exhibition, as it would be to demonstrate the special and 
particular process by which I was nourished and strength- 
ened, and my powers developed by the food which I con- 
sumed in my adolescence. I doubt whether any of our 
medical friends would hazard his reputation by asserting 
that he could satisfy us upon the subject; or that the most 
speculative of our inquirers would abstain from food, until 
no doubt remained as to the correctness and sufficiency of 
the demonstration. 


Respecting the tendency of these works to delude and 
to corrupt the imagination, or to confirm the depravity of 
the heart, I would beg to make a few observations. To 
the individual who addresses you, it has caused unmixed 
astonishment, when he more than once noticed this objec- 
tion seriously urged, upon the ground of their tendency to 
gloss over the errors of polytheism and idolatry, and thereby 
to diminish the esteem in which we should hold the Chris- 
tian dispensation. I trust that, with some few at least, I 
shall find credit for the declaration, that, however imperfect 
my practice may be, there exists not an individual who 
holds that dispensation in more high esteem than I do. To 
me it is everything. I value not the wealth, the fame, the 
science, the honors of the world, as worthy even for an 
instant to be taken into competition with the least of its 
appurtenances; and yet from my keenest scrutiny, from my 
most jealous examination, this danger has hitherto escaped 
notice. I will not say, that others might not have made 
the discovery : if they have, God forbid that I should for 
a moment condemn their rejection of this stumbling-block 
in the way of truth and life. If I could find in the 
annals of eighteen centuries a single act of apostasy fairly 
attributable to this cause, I might hesitate. But I find 
the earliest and most able advocates of Christianity gener- 
ally deducing from this topic the very opposite conclusion; 
and, in several instances, their victory was achieved, and the 
cause of religion gained glorious accession, by the judicious 
contrast. I am under the impression that this is only one 
of those exhibitions in which there is evidenced considera- 
ble dexterity in the use of a weapon which is wielded 
only for exercise or amusement. No, my friends, I can- 
not think so poorly of the evidences of the Christian faith, 
as not to feel confident that their polish is made brighter, 
their temper better proved, and their points better sharp- 
ened, by trying them against the defences of opponents. 
Do forgive me, if I assure you that I am tempted to con- 
sider the man 'who would proclaim danger to Christianity 


from the perusal of the classics, " would," to use the 
strong expression of another, "have cried fire in the days 
of the deluge ! " Did I suppose that any one seriously 
entertained the apprehension I might seriously undertake 
to show it was groundless. 

Their immoral tendency is the next ground upon which 
it is sought to sustain the objection. If the accusation be 
intended to apply to the great bulk of the authors, I 
apprehend that the charge can by no means be sustained. 
The works may be ranked in two divisions into various 
classes : history, orations, harangues, philosophical disquisi- 
tions, literary dissertations, and epistles of friendship. These 
classes form an exceedingly large proportion of the whole. 
I do not think that I am by any means incorrect in 
asserting, that, as an aggregate, this collection is as free 
from immoral tendency as any equal bulk of the most 
select literary compositions of the present day. The his- 
torian of then and now will have to relate instances of 
gross turpitude and crime, but surely the sacred penman 
has done the same ; and, generally speaking, the great 
crimes which disgrace our nature are censured as fully and 
as freely and as eloquently by the ancient classic historian, 
as they are by the modern. If, sometimes, the man of 
yore lauds the ambitious, the proud, the revengeful, the 
unforgiving, such characters are praised also in our own 
day ; the maxims of the Gospel condemn both historians 
alike, and form a splendid contrast to each, showing that, 
at both periods, man is naturally the same; and that his 
perfection arises not from the progress of science, the 
march of intellect, the accumulation of time, and the wis- 
dom of experience, but from a source different from all 
these. I am under the impression, that the effusions of 
Cicero and of Demosthenes might be as safely read as 
any forensic effort or popular harangue of the last year, 
within our own States. I do not argue for the perfection 
of the philosophy taught in the academy or in the palace ; 
but I admire the efforts of the men, whilst I admit their 


mistakes, and would correct their errors, whilst I point 
them out. I would also, where allowable, exhibit the sim- 
plicity and purity of that moral code bestowed by heaven, 
in contrasting it with the doubts, the conjectures, the im- 
perfections, and the mistakes of those merely human efforts 
which at once exhibit the strength and the weakness of 
the human mind; and would establish their moral philos- 
ophy as an authentic document, to prove how necessary it 
was that man should learn his duties immediately from the 
mouth of his Creator. In the other compositions contained 
in this division, I feel confident that the closest scrutiny 
would result in the conviction, that, whilst they show the 
unchanging principles of literary excellence in the judicious 
precepts, the correct observations, and the pertinent and 
apt illustrations which they contain, they are as thoroughly 
free from any moral poison as the best and purest similar 
productions of any period or nation. 

Another division consists of works of fancy and taste ; 
principally epic and lyric poetry, fables, satires, mytholog- 
ical allegories, and a varied miscellaneous exhibition. I am 
free to acknowledge, that I know of no language or nation 
in which productions of this description have not their 
dangers, and are not, in several instances, liable to serious 
objection. However, in that portion of the ancient classic 
authors generally read in the schools, the selection will, I 
apprehend, be found less objectionable than what is every 
day in our tongue within the reach of every schoolboy. 
In the epic poetry, particularly, there is generally not only 
great delicacy of expression on all occasions, but there are 
very few instances where either by description or allusion 
any indelicacy is suggested ; and he who would discover 
any in the portions of these works usually placed in the 
hands of children, may, without injustice, be supposed bet- 
ter fitted for the search than not only youths, but than 
the ordinary class of adult readers. I shall give no opinion 
as to whether so exquisite a tact for such discoveries argues 
more in favor of the vigor of the understanding or the 


purity of the imagination. There are no well-regulated 
schools that I have known in which all the works of any 
author are read through; selections have been made from 
several; and the true question is, whether the portions so 
chosen are of a mischievous tendency. I shall make only 
two assertions. First, that a superabundance of what is 
admirable in literary merit, and perfectly innocuous in respect 
to purity of morals, can be taken from those authors. And, 
secondly, that, in the course of several years of intimate 
acquaintance with many schools, I have never known a 
departure from the principle of confining the pupils to the 
portions so selected. I might add, that I cannot, after con- 
siderable reflection, charge my memory with an instance of 
moral mischief that I could trace to this system of edu- 
cation ; and perhaps my opportunities of observation have 
been less restricted than those of most of my acquaintance. 
That objectionable passages might be found in other parts 
of the same work, or that they were taught in other 
schools, or that they were read subsequently by the pupils, 
is no answer to the proposition which I sustain; for I do 
not assert, that there are no actual or possible abuses ; and 
if I am to abandon every useful object which is liable to 
abuse, the residue, which I may lawfully take up, will be 
small indeed ! 

Far be it from me to say that an ingenious mind could 
not get up an admirable dissertation to contravene what I 
advance. I only make a simple appeal to your own mem- 
ory and to your own judgment. 

The care in selecting from the lyric poetry should be 
far greater, for I am ready to admit that a large portion 
of it, in Greek and Latin, as well as in English, is of a 
most censurable character; but I have never known this 
read in schools, and am decidedly hostile to its introduc- 
tion. If a satire be a less perfect mode of censuring vice, 
yet it is a censure ; and though there exists a preferable 
course of correction, it does not follow that what is less 
good is absolute evil, and therefore unfit to be perused, 


though not under all circumstances the best model for 

The principal ground on which the more numerous body 
of objections have sought to maintain the position, that 
morality was injured by the classics, was the assumption 
that the very essence of mythology is contaminating, by its 
exhibition of the unbecoming criminal adventures of the 
principal deities ; whereby, not only is vice made respect- 
able, but the imagination is seriously injured by filling the 
memory with the knowledge of these demoralizing transac- 
tions. This topic has, unquestionably, a better appearance 
of force than most of the others which I have considered; 
yet, upon examination, it will be found of little value. In 
such recitals, the good or evil is produced by the mode 
of representation. The preacher of the most pure morality 
is frequently employed with great advantage in painting 
the most revolting scenes of vice, for the purpose not only 
of holding it up to the detestation of the innocent, but to 
strike the very profligate themselves with horror at the 
view of their own likeness, and thus bring them to repent- 
ance ; whilst, on the other hand, the artful and eloquent 
destroyer of virtue will succeed in his nefarious projects, 
by delicately turned allusions, which excite the most dan- 
gerous passions, without the employment of a single expres- 
sion of a revolting character. 

Two questions would here present themselves for solu- 
tion. The first, whether all knowledge of ancient history 
is to be withheld from future generations. The second, if 
that knowledge neither can nor ought to be extinguished, 
whether it can be preserved without an acquaintance with 
mythology. I apprehend the eifort to destroy the knowl- 
edge of history would be as useless as it would be unbe- 
coming; as ridiculous as it would be unjust. And I would 
ask, how any one could seriously undertake to preserve the 
history of nations, whilst he suppressed all allusions to 
their religion ; or how those allusions could be intelligible 
without entering upon the region of mythology? If, then, 


this obliteration of knowledge be neither practicable nor 
desirable, we must, -whether we will or not, examine how 
it may be communicated, not only with safety, but with 
advantage. The best things are liable to abuse, and it has 
frequently happened that what was most sacred has been 
most perverted. Far be it from me to insinuate that an 
impure mind has never turned to vile purposes the facts 
and fictions of this ancient religious delusion, in like man- 
ner as such minds have in an impious way perverted the 
most awful facts and useful institutions of divine truth. 
The knowledge of mythology, however, is generally, if not 
always, communicated to students in such a way that, whilst 
it enriches the understanding, it does not defile the heart; 
and the exhibition of its folly, when held in contrast with 
our sublime and perfect religious system, is far from being 
a mischievous or a useless lesson. 

The good Fenelon did not confirm the depravity of his 
pupil's heart, either when he showed him the dangers of 
the Island of Calypso, or when he led him through the 
very temple of the Cyprian goddess. It is, moreover, im- 
possible to have an adequate knowledge of sacred history, 
without being conversant with that which is profane, and 
it is out of all question that a person can be master of 
either, without an extensive acquaintance with mythology. 
Let us, then, even suppose it to be a burning furnace into 
which these children must of necessity be cast; the angel 
of the Lord will be seen walking with them through the 
very flames ; they will be protected by his influence. The 
knowledge might be conveyed in a manner that would be 
most destructive ; but, the fact is, that such is not the 
mode in which it is communicated ; therefore did I state, 
that, although the objection had a semblance of force, it 
would, upon examination, be found of little value. 

It has frequently been urged by excellent men, and from 
the best motives, that education would be as well culti- 
vated by substituting the sacred volume of the Scriptures 
for these dangerous books ; that thus, not only would all 


apprehension of the evils be removed, but an immense ben- 
efit be conferred by the great knowledge conveyed to the 
mind upon the subject of our holiest obligations, our highest 
hopes, the great Author of our being, the glorious Re- 
deemer of our race, the purest morality, the most perfect 
religion, in fact, the great end for which man is perma- 
nently destined. It has been stated that if this volume 
exclusively would not suffice, at least its use would super- 
sede the more dangerous books now in the schools ; that, 
in it, the highest perfection of literature is contained, that 
its diversified style of simple narrative, .historical precision, 
ornamental description, pathetic prayer, sublime oratory, and 
impassioned eloquence, make it a copious and never-failing 
repository of every topic of improvement ; and that its 
parables and poetry, in rich and varied combinations of 
glowing fancy and elegant expression, are surpassed by no 
human production, and probably equalled by none. 

Whilst the peculiarity of my situation admonishes me to 
touch lightly, if at all, upon this topic, and the prin- 
ciple which we have always desired should govern our 
society would preclude much that, under other circumstances, 
I might urge, I trust that one or two observations might 
be, without impropriety, hazarded in your presence. 

The questions w r ould present themselves to us in the 
following order : First, whether, as some contended, the 
Bible should be made in our schools the exclusive text- 
book for the purpose of acquiring the knowledge of what 
we call the learned languages. My previous remarks will 
easily indicate to you the answer that I should give, and 
in addition to the reasons urged before, it might be added, 
that the question could be properly resolved into these : 
Whether, if it were even possible to understand the con- 
tents of this volume, without previous acquired knowledge 
of considerable extent, all that other information should be 
withheld ; whether, because religion is man's paramount 
concern, it should be his exclusive occupation ; and whether, 
the effort to bring the learned world to this state would 


serve the cause of religion itself I shall leave the deter- 
mination of this to your own unbiased judgment. 

I fully assent to all that has been urged in favor of 
the divine production, though I am not bound to consider 
it a model of more than human perfection ; for whilst I 
believe all the ideas of the writers to have been regulated 
b.y the influence of the sacred Spirit, I am at liberty to 
believe that the style in which those ideas were commu- 
nicated, was the natural expression of the individual whom 
heaven had used as its instrument. And even if it were 
otherwise, I apprehend that the use of scriptural phrase- 
ology, upon the ordinary occasions of life, is not considered 
the evidence of religious feeling. So that, whilst the sacred 
volume calls for the pious respect of the good, and is, 
in a peculiar range, worthy of the admiration of the 
learned, it is not the archetype for the literary world, nor 
a model for the compositions of business. Hence, invalu- 
able as is the Bible, for the purposes of religion, I do 
not consider that it was given for other ends, and I can- 
not, therefore, believe that it would be useful or expedient 
to make it a substitute for the classics. 

Another question, however, presents itself for considera- 
tion Whether the volume might not be usefully substituted 
for those which are most dangerous ? I would correct the 
assertion implied in the question itself; for I would place 
no dangerous book in the hands of the pupil. The true 
question, then, would be, whether the Bible should not 
occupy a considerable place in our literary institutions. The 
answer to this must depend upon a variety of circum- 
stances which greatly vary, in different times and places, 
and, therefore, no precise general answer could easily be 
given. The great object of those who advocate its intro- 
duction, it will always be found, is, by its means, to im- 
part religious information. The great difference of sects in 
Christianity arises not so much from a difference as to 
what are the words of the book which they acknowledge 
contains tho law, but as to the construction which will 


give the correct meaning of the great legislator to whom 
they profess obedience. If there exists a serious difference 
between them, as to either the construction of the law, or 
the existence, or the nature, or the authority of a tribunal 
from which that construction is to be received; in such 
a case, if this book be given for their common instruction, 
we must expect that the .several will yield to one, or there 
will be jealousies, disputes, or estrangement. Experience has 
taught us that the first result is not to be expected; charity 
and prudence would guard against the second. Thus, unless 
all parties were either agreed as to the construction of the 
law, or the tribunal by which it was to be expounded, I 
would consider its introduction into a school of different 
and discordant denominations to be not only a departure 
from the first principle which the volume inculcates, which 
is that of charity, but also an impediment to the progress 
of literature, inasmuch as it would distract the attention 
from the legitimate objects of the institution to sectarian 
contests. I cannot avoid viewing the question as more 
properly one of religion than of literature, and would there- 
fore give my answer upon that principle by which I have 
always hitherto been guided. Let religious instruction be 
freely and fully given, at the earliest period, to youth; 
but never permit the emissary of proselytism to assume the 
garb of literature as a disguise; when it is intended that 
religion should be taught, let it be called by its own name 
when it is proposed to communicate merely human learn- 
ing, let nothing else be introduced. If there be no insup- 
erable bar to a union in receiving religious instruction in 
common, let it be so given ; but if, unfortunately, there 
should be an irreconcilable discrepancy, let not that evil 
be increased, by superadding those of jealousy and quarrels. 
Let there, in such a case, be a union in the pursuit of 
literature let there be a separation, for the purposes of 
religious instruction ; and in communicating this latter, no 
one of my hearers will be more gratified than will he 
who addresses them, at using all due means to extend 


widely the most perfect knowledge of the religion of the 
Bible. But when he surveys the actual state of our country, 
he must beg leave to say, that he cannot, in accordance 
with the principles that he has advanced, arrive at the 
conclusion, that it would promote the cause of learning to- 
make the book itself a substitute for any considerable portion 
of the usual class-books. Though he cannot hope for a gen- 
eral acquiescence in his views, he trusts that, in freely 
expressing his convictions, he will not be considered as 
outstepping the proper limits of his subject, or intending 
unkindness to those with whom he might have the mis- 
fortune to differ. 

I have dwelt upon this subject of classical education as 
one appropriate 'to the literary character of our society, not 
so much from an expectation of your devoting to its con- 
cerns any particular or special efforts, but considering that, 
not only the standing of the individual members, but the 
aggregate influence of the body, might produce a serious 
effect upon the public mind ; and if the topics I have 
urged were in accordance with your views, they might, to 
a certain extent, be enforced by the moral power that you 
possess in that community to which we belong; and thereby 
not only would the rising generation be induced to make 
more progress in this field, but the general cause of lit- 
erature be greatly aided by your own example, in continu- 
ing to cultivate what, though long since sown and thriving, 
has, perhaps, been only seldom examined, and but lightly 
tended. And for this object, an excellent opportunity is 
afforded by those literary exercises which the society has 
lately resumed. 

To what I have urged on this head, JL shall take the 
liberty of adding some observations upon the other branch 
of our duties as a society. 

Philosophy is, properly speaking, the deduction of correct 
conclusions from evident principles and ascertained facts. 
In order, however, to proceed safely to the results, the 
premises must be secured, and the mighty evil of which 


we have to complain, is the great facility with which prob- 
abilism, conjecture, and speculation have been substituted 
for principles and facts. Thus has the region of science 
been thickly sown with error, and rank weeds have luxu- 
riantly abounded, where order, and beauty, and symmetry 
should prevail. It is with reluctance that the human mind 
assents to the evidence of its own ignorance, and even when 
yielding to the conviction, its vanity urges the concealment 
from others. Hence, the ambition of man is not so much 
to be wise and learned, as to be thought so. We are 
more soothed, even when conscious of our defects, by the 
delusion which overestimates our acquirements, than we are 
by the possession of that knowledge for which the world 
refuses us credit. Probably, the mortification, in the latter 
case, exceeds the gratification in the former. The discovery 
of fact, and the establishment of its evidence, do not always- 
form so easy a process as is generally imagined. Let us 
consider the revolution of the planets, the circulation of 
the blood, the attractive power of the magnet ; not to speak 
of a vast number of other instances, how clearly do we 
now perceive facts of which successive generations were so 
totally ignorant. Let us contemplate their results. Were not 
several of those results themselves, facts very obvious, and 
always observed, for which we can now easily account ;: 
whose causes, whose origin, and whose nature are perfectly 
open to our view? Yet, though the results themselves were 
always ascertained, their origin was not always obvious, their 
causes were not always known ; even whilst the fact was evi- 
dent, the source was altogether mistaken ; but now, owing to 
more deep research, more accurate observation, and more 
fortunate circumstances, both cause and effect are equally 
exposed to our ken. Let us learn a salutary lesson from 
the history of our predecessors. In their day, those results 
were known to be facts, but their origin was not then 
discovered. Still, desirous of appearing learned, the men 
of that day undertook, not only to declare what they saw, 
but, moreover, to explain the causes and the objects of 


those results ; and when we read their lucubrations, how 
are we astonished at their blunders ! How do we decry 
their ignorance, and affect to commiserate their blindness ! 
How do we estimate the superiority of our intellectual 
powers above theirs ! Yet these men were philosophers ; 
they had minds formed by the same Almighty who made 
ours ; they were, in every respect, our equals, but that 
we have the knowledge of some facts of which they were 
ignorant facts discovered and ascertained principally by the 
men intermediate between them and us. They endeavored, 
by speculation, to supply the want of actual knowledge, 
and this want alone constituted their inferiority. They, too, 
had a knowledge of facts undiscovered by their predecessors; 
and smiled at the ignorance of those to whom they were 
as superior, in this sort of information, as we are to them. 
Are we not destined to pay to posterity, and, perhaps, with 
usurious addition, the tribute which we have exacted from 
those at whose ignorance we sneer, and over whom we 
elevate ourselves, with the importance of our imaginary per- J 
fection ? Alas ! my friends, need I describe to you the 
feelings which overwhelm us at witnessing the haughty and 
sarcastic contempt with which a child, who blunders towards 
reading, regards him who only stammers to spell ! Does it 
not expose to us an emblem of that scene which much of 
the history of human philosophy presents to those spiritual 
intelligences that, in their graduated perfection, rise circle 
above circle, occupying that space which intervenes between 
man and their Creator? 

The great obstacles to correct and useful philosophy, then, 
are to be found, I believe, in the facility with which our 
sloth and vanity combine in leading us to substitute specu- 
lation for fact, because it requires less industry to form a 
conjecture than to make a research; in affecting a show 
of information that we do not possess, and endeavoring to 
sustain our claim by words without ideas ; in rejecting as 
useless what some others have collected lest we should sink 
in public estimation, by turning to account what we or 


our colleagues had not discovered.; and in decrying our 
predecessors, instead of profiting by their labors. It is true 
that the pick or the crowbar would be exceedingly inappro- 
priate tools for giving the last finish of taste to a splendid 
golden vase ; but had they never been used for excava- 
tion, the ore would not have been furnished ; and what 
a variety of intermediate hands must be employed between 
that which first opened the mine and that which finally 
touches the vessel ! The pioneer who commenced the open- 
ing of the forest should not be despised by him who sub- 
sequently occupies the mansion and enjoys the wealth of 
the harvest and the luxury of the scene. Human science, 
like human labor, is progressive, and the peculiar duty of 
the philosopher, like that of the workman, is to exert him- 
self for the improvement of what he received in a state 
of imperfection. 

I am far from being an advocate for the modern theory 
of what is called the perfectibility and gradual progress to 
perfection of the human mind. My observations and reflec- 
tions have led me to the conclusion, that God has given 
this lower world, with all its accumulated treasures and 
productions, as well as the firmament by which it is sur- 
rounded, and studded as it is with so many glorious deco- 
rations, as a vast field for man's temporal occupation ; to 
search out their several parts, to discover their relations, 
their properties, their uses, their affinities, their opposition, 
to turn them to the purposes of his own happiness here ; 
I shall not in this place advert to their uses for here- 
after. This investigation, this application, is what I call 
philosophy. The astronomer who, by his patient and labor- 
ious observations and calculations, enables the navigator in 
the midst of the waste of waters to know . his place and 
to pursue his proper course ; the mathematician and the 
algebraist, who give to the ship-builder, the engineer, and 
to so marfy others, the rules by whose observance they 
can securely attain the useful objects of their pursuit ; the 
botanist who secures to us the benefits of our diversified veg- 


etation; the chemist who, by analysis and composition, turns- 
such an immense mass of varied productions to the most 
extensive account; the physician who applies them to the 
solace of the human family; the anatomist who, by his 
almost godlike skill, is able to detect and to remove the 
obstructions as \vell as to repair the defects of the animal 
system; the legislator and the jurist who establish and 
reduce to practice the great principles by w r hose operation 
peace, prosperity and liberty are guarded; they who study 
to provide and to prepare for use the great articles of 
sustenance, of clothing, of shelter, of defence, of comfort 
and convenience for the children of Adam : all these form 
the vast aggregate of the several classes of philosophy. It 
is true that the climate, the soil, the productions, the tem- 
perament, the habits, the special wants and peculiar tastes 
of nations greatly vary, and that for these variations con- 
siderable allowance should be made ; yet in all cases the 
great principle of philosophy is the same ; that is, to 
extend our discoveries in that range which is subject to 
our research, and. turn the discovery to beneficial account. 

From this view, it would seem that the duty of the 
philosopher was simple, and that, by his faithful attention 
to its discharge, man must necessarily make constant and 
rapid progress to perfection; for he has only to pursue 
what he had received, to add his own observations to those 
of his predecessors, and to transmit the increased fund to 
those who succeed him ; and since this is what really occurs, 
why should not man speedily arrive at perfection? The 
theory is plausible, but history and reflection will correct 
its fallacy. That the duty of the philosopher has been 
properly described, I readily admit; but that the specified 
result should be obtained, it is necessary, first, that all 
which has been acquired should have been preserved ; and 
secondly, that the point of perfection should not be too 
remote. The advocates for what is called perfectibility, per- 
haps, never seriously examine either of these topics. 

Let us try this theory of the progress of the mind, or 


as it is sometimes called, the march of intellect, by the 
the test of facts. Think you was the mind of Homer 
more feeble than that of Milton ? "Was Virgil or Horace 
as far below the mental grade of Pope or Dryden, or 
these latter below Byron or Moore, as their intervened cen- 
turies between them? Had the intellect of Demosthenes 
less vigor than that of Patrick Henry? Or was Cicero 
twenty degrees upon the scale of forensic merit below Wil- 
liam Pinckney or Daniel Webster, or even Baron Vaux 
and Brougham, the Lord High Chancellor of England? 
AVhat shall I say of Archimedes and Euclid? Are we to 
find the proofs of this theory in the legislation of Greece 
and Rome, in the tactics of Csesar, ia the architecture of 
antiquity, in the statuary of the remote ages, in the minds 
that planned and the powers that erected the pyramids of 
Egypt? It is true that though the energies of the mind be 
unchanged, the facts upon which 1 they operate may be 
extended and varied as time advances in his course. In 
the morning, the little speck, which is scarcely perceptible 
upon the verge of the horizon, alone breaks the serene 
uniformity of the vacant fields of air ; but as the day 
advances it ascends and approximates, whilst other collec- 
tions appear, accumulate, and unite ; the pregnant storm 
shrouds the meridian sun, and envelopes the ocean in its 
shade, until amidst the echoes of the heavens it is dis- 
charged and expires ; yet the unchanged observer pre-ex- 
isted and survives. 

How frequently have we witnessed a noble patrimony 
broken up and scattered by a dissipated heir ! How often 
has the flood or the storm swept away a splendid man- 
sion, and reduced a rich plantation to a desert ! How 
many times has a licentious soldiery or an unruly mob 
devastated a noble capital in which the wealth of nature 
and the decorations of art abounded! So, too, has the 
sloth or luxury of one age dissipated the mental acquisi- 
tions of those which preceded it ; an incursion of barba- 
rians has frequently swept science from its domain, and 


covered the land with ignorance and ruin and despair. 
When nations are disturbed for the purpose of ambition 
or the vengeance of disappointment; when the public mind 
is filled with discontent and indignation; when maddened 
hosts fly to arms and rush to mutual destruction in the 
rage of battle ; or when the heavy yoke of robust despot- 
ism presses upon a crushed people ; or when, animated by 
the spirit of liberty, men rise to assert their rights and 
to overthrow their oppressors ; in times like these, under 
circumstances of this description, especially before copies of 
works were multiplied by the introduction of the press, 
and the few that existed being destroyed by the wantonness- 
of the victor or the indignation of the vanquished, how 
frequent and how extensive was the destruction of the 
records and of the collections of the philosopher ! Thus 
has the knowledge of many an ancient art been obliterated. 
The evidence of their existence, like the remnants of stained 
glass which are still found in many ancient churches, lets 
in upon us a soft and mellowed light, which informs us. 
that if we possess knowledge which did not exist amongst 
men of other days, they enjoyed some which has not reached 
us ; like many a rich cargo that has been lost at sea, it 
is covered with the waters of oblivion. Who will under- 
take to assert that the mass of what has been lost does 
not equal the bulk of what exists to-day? I am far from 
inclining to the opinion that it docs ; but I think it would 
savor of rashness boldly to make cither assertion. 

But suppose all the ancient discoveries to have been 
faithfully preserved and the new ones duly transmitted; 
when will the accumulation fill up the measure of perfec- 
tion? What is its capacity? Should a myriad of men be 
continually occupied in depositing grains of .sand, when 
would they form a globe whose axles would touch opposed 
points in the orbit of ITerschel ? Let us compare the pro- 
gress of mind with the progress of motion. If we take 
our observations upon what was the perfection of the mind 
in the Augustan age and what it is to-day, you may assume 


superiority to the fullest extent of your disposition, you 
will at all events allow that the progress has not been 
with the rapidity of light. And yet, even with this accel- 
eration, when would you reach those fixed stars that show 
so dimly in their distance? Yet is the immensity of Him 
who alone is perfection spread abroad infinitely beyond, 
where their faintest rays terminate in an opposite direction! 
When do we hope to reach it? I therefore admit that 
there is abundant room for the continual progress of philo- 
sophical improvement, though I cannot subscribe to the 
fallacious theory of human perfectibility. I allow that there, 
are great incentives for approaching as nearly as we can 
to perfection, though we can never attain it ; like the 
asymptotes of the hyperbola ; He, who alone is perfect, con- 
tinues in one changeless direction through eternity, whilst,, 
though the created mind, like the curve, should continu- 
ally approximate as it advances, yet will they never coincide.. 
There is another circumstance also upon which I desire- 
to observe. Men do not always receive with implicit con- 
fidence the principles and facts of whose truth their pre- 
decessors were satisfied. The patrimony of the philosopher 
is not like material wealth, manifestly prepared and made 
quite available. And to a certain extent, this too is useful. 
First principles need scarcely an explanation, they readily 
receive our assent; but it is otherwise with the conclu- 
sions to which the ancients have arrived. In some cases 
our pride, our curiosity, our spirit of independence, our 
love of novelty, will lead us not only to question and 
doubt, but to use our efforts to prove them erroneous. 
This disposition, moderately indulged, has frequently been of 
the greatest advantage in detecting error, in correcting mis- 
takes, and in protecting truth by the erection of new bul- 
warks, or of rendering it more bright by collision. When 
carried beyond its proper limits, it has not only been a 
waste of time and of energies, but a source of perplexity 
and error. How many fine minds have been ruined by 
this most mischievous practice? This was the great source 


whence flowed that cold scepticism, which, whilst to some it 
seemed to be an enriching stream of philosophy, chilled the 
soil and destroyed its prolific power. It was like crystal 
to the eye, but its taste was of nitre. 

But let us suppose the absence of doubts and the dis- 
position to believe. Still, all minds are originally placed 
alike uninformed at the vestibule of science, and they can- 
iiot arrive at the shrine without proceeding through the 
temple ; though the progress of some be more rapid than 
that of others, yet the advances of all are really slow. No 
anxiety to admit the truth of a mathematical demonstration 
will enable the tryo to comprehend it without the tedious 
preliminary process, though it is true, that when the way 
has been explored and the road formed, the consumption 
of time and labor is wonderfully diminished for us, who 
liave the benefit of the works constructed by the preced- 
ing occupants ; and thus, to a certain extent, we have con- 
siderable advantages ; but the wealth of the mind cannot 
be attained without a large expenditure of years and appli- 
cation by the individual himself, let the deposit which has 
l>een transmitted be ever so valuable. Add to this con- 
sideration, the brevity of life, the variety of avocations, the 
allurements of pleasure, the duties of religion, the demands 
of family, the wants of ourselves and of our connections, 
the claims of the unfortunate, the concerns of the State, the 
faction of parties, and the vast multitude of other embar- 
rassments ; and what then becomes of the fine visions of 
philosophical accumulation and man's perfectibility? The 
realities of life correct the delusions of the sophist. 

The portion, therefore, which any individual is able to 
contribute to the general fund, must be exceedingly small; 
exceptions will be noticed, and are admitted. But if we 
have our eyes drawn to the admiration of Plato, of Ptolemy, 
of Copernicus, of Galileo, of Columbus, of Newton, of 
Bacon, of Locke, of DCS Cartes, of Leibnitz, and so many 
others, how many myriads have passed away from whom 
no contribution has been received? It is this poverty of 


individuals that renders association useful, ' because from the 
difference of tastes there will arise a diversity of pursuits, 
and mutual exhibition of knowledge will create mutual con- 
fidence ; each can easily judge how far he might with pru- 
dence and safety use the production of his associate, and 
each will be urged to greater exertions by the example which 
encourages and the emulation which provokes. Thus the 
very difficulties which would seem to impede us, should 
l)ut animate us to proceed. 

An additional motive will be found in contemplating the 
extensive opportunities which offer of increasing our advan- 
tages by a communion with similar societies, of which so 
many are found in the several States of our own Union, 
not to mention those of other regions of the civilized world. 

"What, then, should be our object? 

In the first place, we must perceive how useful it would 
be to collect and to embody admitted principles concerning 
whose truth there is no longer any question ; as they have 
the testimony of ages and nations, after deep and continued 
reflection : to these might be added those facts whose truth 
is proved by the same testimony, whether they appertain 
to history, to geography, to geology, to astronomy, to physi- 
ology, or to whatever class of science they may belong. 
Like the demonstrations of mathematics, they should be 
sustained by their appropriate evidence, so that, as the 
student is made acquainted with the fact, he should also 
receive its proof. How immense has been the loss sus- 
tained by the neglect of this simple and natural precaution! 
It too frequently happens that when we are ourselves con- 
vinced, we imagine that no one will be so absurd as to 
deny that to be true, to which we have given our assent; 
and we forget that, by our sloth, we have left others with- 
out the means that produced our own conviction. AVere 
I asked, what I consider to have been the most efficient 
cause of dispute in the world, I would probably assign this 
disposition, which results from a combination of pride and 
sloth, causing us to feel a dissent from our views as an 


insult, whilst from others we require assent without fur- 
nishing the evidence that would command it. Through want 
of this, it sometimes happens that fact and fable are, for 
a while, not distinguishable, and a man of prudence will 
avoid relying upon that statement of whose truth he has 
no certainty; the certainty must arise from a proof that 
is not furnished : upon what ground shall he rest ? It is 
not then sufficient that we leave facts upon record ; we 
should moreover leave record of their proof. 

But of what description are these facts, whose knowledge 
it is so important to preserve ? I answer : of every descrip- 
tion. It is a serious mistake to imagine that nothing is 
useful for the purposes of philosophy, unless it has some 
extraordinary character, is out of the common range of 
objects, has been procured from some foreign region, or 
bears some name of learned length and thundering sound. 
The proper object of the philosopher, as I stated, is to> 
ascertain truth for useful purposes. Now, the objects which 
are commonly met with are those most extensively applica- 
ble to our benefit, and of course, upon the principle which 
I have assumed, an accurate and comprehensive knowledge 
of their properties would be extremely advantageous. The 
wants and avarice of mankind have excited, during many 
ages, to industry in this department, and perhaps in this 
the discoveries have been most extensive and accurate. Yet, 
even here, our daily experience, and the history of other 
societies, exhibit the vast improvements of every year. The 
academies of Europe, especially those of France, of Italy, of 
Germany, and of England, are continually adding much to 
the stock of science in this department. The analysis and 
application of the most ordinary materials and productions 
are still in a march of uninterrupted progress ; the arts 
have been wonderfully improved, facilities and comforts 
extensively increased, and the resources of man greatly 
enlarged by the scarcely perceptible labors of individuals, 
who, in the several societies and in mechanical occupations, 
guided by the principles daily imparted and the facts almost 


hourly communicated, add some little to the accumulation 
already made. We do not indeed at present meet one of our 
exploring associates returning with the evidence that a new 
continent has been discovered; seldom do we observe a 
thick vapor to rest upon the troubled ocean, and find upon 
its thinning away that a new island has arisen; but this 
incessant addition, by a multitude of individuals, gives to 
us a more permanent though less showy acquisition in those 
rising and numerous masses of coral which afford room for 
secure and solid habitation. They are conquests made by 
untiring industry from the barren waste of the deep, they 
are lasting acquirements of new possession, monitions to 
activity, additions to wealth, and room for population. 

There are indeed a variety of facts in what are called 
the higher departments of science, which are also occasion- 
ally developed; and perhaps in no period of some cen- 
turies at any previous time, have more facts been brought 
to light regarding the component parts of this our globe 
and their properties than within the last fifty years. Within 
that period also, man has extended his researches far into 
the regions of the air, and discovered new worlds by the 
aid of optical mechanism. How wonderfully has the dominion 
of the chemist been extended, and what power does he 
exercise through the vast regions made subject to his sway! 
How fallen, how imbecile, is the once dreaded magician 
at his feet ! We are unable to enumerate the immense 
quantity of improvements effected in the useful arts by the 
application of those discoveries. How have the powers of 
man been increased within that period by the combinations 
of machinery ! And as the events that would have been 
formerly spread over ages, appear crowded into that petty 
space; so, too, by our recent discoveries, distance, like time, 
has been subdued by the moral approximation of remote 
regions through means of steam and rail. 1 He who fifty 

'Space has been still more astonishingly annihilated since Bishop England's 
day, by the invention of the telegraph; and we are only in the beginnings of 
the wonders of electricity. 


years ago should have ventured to predict these occurrences, 
would be considered more visionary than he who would 
presume to describe the mountains and valleys of Saturn's 
ring. Who can undertake to say what another half cen- 
tury will unfold ? lie alone whose eye takes in, at every 
moment, all time and space. To us, the events of the past 
should be incitements to continued exertion ; and though, 
perhaps, no one of us could devote any considerable por- 
tion of his time or of his talent to our common object, 
yet each, by keeping in view what we seek to attain, may 
be in some way useful. 

Amongst those facts which are specially important to be 
well known and fully established, are those of natural his- 
tory ; and nothing can so powerfully contribute to this as 
the possession, the preservation, and the extension of a 
well-regulated museum. In it the lessons which would be 
tediously and imperfectly taught by mere recitation and 
description, are instantly communicated by a glance, they 
are impressed upon the memory by the gratification of curi- 
osity, they are scientifically classed by the arrangement of 
rooms and cases. Thus, the mere upholding of such a 
department in proper order, with occasional public explana- 
tion, would be an extensive benefit, not only to our society, 
but to the citizens, especially to the youth. I shall not 
dwell here upon that commerce, as I might call it, in sci- 
ence, which consists in an interchange of natural produc- 
tions of the various regions, by the several scientific socie- 
ties ; for the encouragement of which there appears to be 
amongst them all an increasing disposition. I am convinced 
that, upon proper application, every facility would be afforded 
by our general government for such interchange ; and I 
trust that, whatever our political differences may be, we 
should find no disposition to nullify this regulation of com- 
merce, or to destroy this species of protection. We might 
at least innocently, if not usefully, commence by prepara- 
tion the manufacture of some of our native products, and 
be allowed a free trade with all similar societies, for cor- 


responding returns, not only without the grievance of a 
tariff' upon their importation, but even with the bounty of 
a free freight in our public vessels. Some of our Medi- 
terranean squadron would probably feel no inconvenience in 
exchanging a few harmless wild-cats or peaceable panthers, 
for casts of antique vases or of exquisite statues, or for 
some of the utensils of Pompeii or of Herculaneum. 

When the body is torpid for want of exercise the hu- 
mors become sluggish or stagnate, and disease ensues ; if 
there be excitement it is feverish, and the consequent 
restlessness irritates and increases the disorder. So it is 
with the human mind, if it have not some wholesome 
employment, it becomes sickly, irritated, and filled with 
discontent; it is easily excited; in the midst of the most 
gloomy scenes horrid spectres are presented to the imagina- 
tion, and the consequences arc equally pernicious to society 
and to the deluded individual. How frequently would it 
be one of the greatest earthly blessings, not only to the 
victims, but to their families and connections, if the strong 
powers of fine, but, alas! ruined minds had been early 
habituated to the healthful exercise of even the humblest 
philosophical investigation, instead of having been indulged 
in that sloth which has made them burdens to themselves, 
tired of existence, and worrying to their friends ! How 
many are there, who, in dread or ignorance, turn from the 
philosophic hall, and, determined at all hazards to escape 
the horrors of ennui, plunge into dissipation ! How many, 
perhaps, laboring under the influence of irregular excitement, 
communicate the frenzy under the semblance of religious 
or patriotic zeal ! When this dreadful malady exhibits 
such symptoms, it is, perhaps, as hopeless of a cure as 
that which ensues from the bite of a rabid animal. But 
the evil might, in a great measure, if not altogether, have 
been prevented, by removing its cause; and where no more 
urgent mode demands a preference the occupations of phi- 
losophy are, perhaps, the most efficacious and the most 
useful ; and, from the view that I have taken, you will 
perceive that they arc within the reach of every individual. 


There is another motive that I would press upon every 
Carolinian. Will you, whilst the rest of the civilized world 
is pressing forward in the career of science, stand with 
your arms folded? We do possess considerable facilities 
for scientific improvement; we have not made of them all 
the use which they afforded. Perhaps our fault has been, 
that, in this as in other instances, we have been too san- 
guine, and that, having commenced with ardor, we yielded 
to disappointment at not finding, as it were, magical effects 
flow from our very association. Perhaps we have been, in 
some degree, ourselves to blame, for want of regular 
attendance and strict adherence to system. When I look 
upon the few years that I have had the honor of being 
your associate I perceive that we had amongst us talents 
of the first order, zeal for the promotion of science, and 
deep philosophical erudition. In whom have they been 
more happily blended and clearly developed, than in that 
excellent individual who desired to conceal, if he was con- 
scious of possessing them? Need I name our late lamenteji 
president, Elliott? But what was the concealment? Not 
of the knowledge which he communicated, but of the mind 
from which it flowed. lie would veil the radiance that 
adorned him, yet so as to shed the light which informed 
and cheered those by whom he was surrounded. Estimable 
man! The remembrance which he has left, like the dispo- 
sition with which he was blessed, combines the vigor of 
one sex with the sweetness of the other. You have heard 
his eulogy from lips well fitted to pronounce it. I shall 
not prolong its echo. Have we not seen in our late 
venerable vice-president, 2 an excellent model of that per- 
severing industry, that patient research, that regular attend- 
ance, that extensive knowledge and devotion to the interests 
of our society, which it would be well if we continued to 

Nor have we been altogether useless. Witness those 
admirable lectures on geology and botany, which, while they 

i Doctor James Moultric, Jr. 'Timothy Fordo, Esq. 


attracted the talent and beauty of our city, gave to litera- 
ture the sanction of fashionable support, and polished and 
extended that chaste and cultivated taste which pervades our 
first circles. Witness those literary and philosophical exer- 
cises, which, by their public occurrence, not only increased 
the appetite for knowledge, but also its supply; not for a 
select few, but for all our intelligent population; and the 
resuming of which, with our lately-increased numbers, prom- 
ises to render our society more extensively and permanently 
useful. This is not the place, nor this the occasion, to 
advert to those other contemplated exertions, which have 
occasionally occupied our thoughts and engrossed our con- 
versation during the last two pr three years. I repeat it, 
we have great facilities, were we industrious in turning 
them to account. And why should not Carolina indulge 
and cherish this holy ambition? This State has held a 
high rank for polite literature; surely she ought to com- 
plain of her sons, if, recreant to their patriotic and literary 
reputation, they degenerate from their fathers, and slothfully 
permit themselves to be surpassed by States which, within 
their own recollection, were only heavy forests, through 
which the Indian and his game could scarcely penetrate. 

I do cherish the expectation that they will arouse to 
exertion, and in their own sunny land, under their own 
serene sky, they will generously climb the hill of science, 
and cultivate it to its very top ; crowning its summit with 
those useful productions which not only will delight the 
eye by the richness and delicacy of their color, but will 
gratify the taste by the excellence of the fruit, and send 
through many leagues on every side, upon the soft yet 
bracing air, an odorous perfume fitted to regale the home 
of her children, and to attract the praise and admiration 
of the stranger. 


IN reading the works of poets or others, which are gen- 
erally styled fiction, perhaps we have been too apt to regard 
the productions of the best writers as more imaginative 
than in truth they are. "When Horace tells those who 
would write, either to follow nature, or to invent what 
would have all its parts in keeping; they who desire to 
observe the rule, will perhaps find it much easier and 
better calculated to insure success, to take the first part of 
the admonition than the second. Probably the great cause 
why a vast multitude of authors of this description have 
had so little success, will be found in the fact, that the 
greater number, in creating their scenery, have consulted 
their imagination in preference to their observation. 

This idea has impressed itself more deeply upon my 
mind, since I have been led to believe, that the most beau- 
tiful and finished pictures of one of the masters of poetry 
were sketches from nature, embellished indeed by imagina- 
tion and improved with exquisite taste, and not merely 
the results of fiction. 

Something more than two years have elapsed since, on. 
a beautiful evening in May, I drove out, accompanied by 
a few friends, on the road leading from Naples towards the> 
ancient Putcoli. "NVhen we arrived near the entrance of 
the grotto of Posilippo, a proposition was made to alight 
and climb the steep zigzag road leading to the tomb of 
Virgil. Arrived at the door of the garden in which this 
mouldering relic is situated, we quickened our pace as we 

i This essay first appeared as an artLlo In the Southern Literary Journal, Vol. I 
No. 1. 


doubled the windings of the narrow path that, by a long, 
circuit, leads to this spot of classic interest. We stood 
silent within this decaying chamber we looked around on 
its desolate walls and time-worn, vaulted roof, all stained 
with the green tinge of successive centuries. A marble 
slab of comparatively modern sculpture, perhaps placed about 
two or three hundred years since in one of the sides,, 
unnecessarily proclaimed, in a crabbed imitation of Latin, 
that of which every peasant child was aware, that this 
chamber was the resting-place of the great Mantuan bard;, 
here what was mortal of the polished Maro had mouldered- 

We viewed each other. We looked from the aperture* 
in the side the bay of Naples spread broadly before us- 
It was a serene sky ; a light air moved along the waters ^ 
a thin, brown vapor above its summit distinguished Vesu- 
vius in the distance. We looked down to the road where 
we had left our carriage ; we involuntarily drew back from 
the precipice, and again advanced to see how diminished, 
to the view were the beings entering or issuing from the 
excavated tunnel, as they traveled at such a distance below 
us, from or towards Naples. The tongue ventured to express, 
a few words, and we soon resumed our conversation. We- 
agreed that the spot upon which the body of the poet was 
deposited after death, was one well calculated during life 
to have excited his enthusiasm, enriched his imagination,, 
and stored his memory with the materials for description. 

A few mornings afterwards, we were seated upon the 
indurated lava at the summit of Vesuvius. It was about 
an hour after the sun had risen ; even then his rays were= 
powerful. We were fatigued and heated by the immense 
labor of climbing the mighty precipice of ashes ; vast 
masses of cinder glowed under us, hundred of fissures 
emitted hot sulphuric vapor scarcely perceptible to the eye,, 
but fully sensible to the smell and feeling. Our guides drew 
from the brown ashes the eggs which they had brought up 
for their repast; a very few minutes had sufficed for their 
cooking ; they found the finest salt on almost every frag- 


merit within their reach. And yet in this region of fire, 
the gentle temperature of the breeze gradually refreshed 
and invigorated us. Our faces were turned towards the 
tomb at the opposite side of the bay. The city, consider- 
ably below us, showed on our right like a rich, white 
margin between the land and water; in a few places 
this appeared thicker, and advanced a little upon the 
expanded plain that stretched along towards the Adriatic. 
The road to Herculaneum, the little town of Torre del 
Greco, and a number of others, were discernible, and we 
looked on our left, to try and ascertain the site of Pom- 
peii, through whose desolate streets we had walked but 
iwo days previously. The island of Capri rose as a dark 
mass in what was anciently called the Tyrrhenian Sea, but 
the eye discerned the horizon of water glittering far 
beyond it, and we could observe the liquid element spread- 
ing to the west and south of Procida and Ischia, to the 
west from the ridge of Posilippo, the reflection from the 
waters near Baia?, seemed like that of liquid silver, and 
the eye reached towards the north even to Gaeta. One of 
my companions, on discovering the headland, repeated: 

"And thou, O matron of immortal fame, 
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name. 
Caieta still the place is called from thee, 
The nurse of great Eneas' infancy. 
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains, 
Thy name ('tis all a ghost can claim) remains." 

" This was the spot selected by Virgil for perhaps the 
"best and most beautiful of his descriptions," said he, "and 
surely he could not have chosen a better." We had pre- 
viously visited the splendid Museum of Naples, in whose 
numerous and extensive departments so many remains of 
the genius of southern Italy are collected. We spoke of 
several that had been lately dug up, after an interment 
of nearly twenty centuries under the masses of sand and 
ashes, flung over many a league from that very crater 
upon whose edge we were then seated. We admired the 


ingenuity, the patience, the industry, the zeal and informa- 
tion of those scientific men whom we had seen unrolling, 
deciphering, copying, supplying the chasms, and preparing 
for publication the ancient volume of parchment, reduced 
nearly to a mass of carbon in the ruins which fiery lava 
had created. And turning to one of my friends, who was 
an inhabitant of Great Britain, I remarked : " These are the 
men whom your writers have represented as ignorant, lazy, 
priest-ridden Italians, enemies to science and degraded in 
superstition ! " "I acknowledge," said he, "that our writers 
have, for party purposes, done the Italians the greatest 
injustice, and at your side of the Atlantic, you are not 
only our rivals, but as you claim pre-eminence in so many 
departments, you will not, I am convinced, deny that many 
of your writers have outstripped us even in this." I could 
not make all the concessions he desired. We agreed, there- 
fore, to leave the pretensions of the United Kingdom and 
those of the United States to be settled by the king of 
Holland, or by any other arbiter that may be agreed on 
by better authorized plenipotentiaries, and we returned to 
the discussion of descriptions given by Virgil. Yet this 
was connected with the visits we had paid to the Museum, 
because it was there we had first heard of the work of 
the Rev. Andrew Jorio, a learned canon of Naples, who 
is as eminent for his literature as he is for his unpre- 
tending piety; it was there we had first learned his opinion, 
that the passages contained in the sixth book of the JEneid, 
describing the infernal regions of Tartarus and of Elysium, 
\vere all suggested to the poet from a spot near Baise. 
AVe had there procured the treatise, and were led to dis- 
cuss its merits, whilst we projected a hasty visit to the 
same regions, to pass freely through which, even at this 
day, requires the offering of a sprig from the golden branch. 
I regretted that an indisposition under which he labored, 
whilst I was in the south of Italy, prevented my having 
the gratification of making the acquaintance of this respect- 
able and accomplished scholar, whom I desired much to 


know, not only on account of his scientific and literary 
attainments, but also for his ministerial usefulness. My own 
time was also curtailed, and I was not able to make all 
the excursions that I had intended in this most interesting 
neighborhood. I have, however, attentively perused the work 
of Canon Jorio, and seen something of the vicinity. Per- 
haps I could, therefore, with some little prospect of success, 
undertake to show you, by his description, some of the 
reasons for the assertion with which I have set out ; that 
the writers who, in works of fiction, found their descrip- 
tions upon observation in preference to mere imagination, 
are those most likely to succeed. 

Two facts are incontestable. First, in the fifth book the 
poet describes the departure of the remnant of the Trojan 
fleet from Sicily, for the purpose of making a descent upon 
Italy, and especially, that it was the intention of JEneas 
to visit the shade of his father in Elysium according to the 
admonition of Anchises himself, who in line 735 informs 
him who shall be his guide : 

"The chaste Sybilla shall your steps convey, 
And blood of offered victims strew the way." 

It is also certain that his voyage lay nearly west of 
north from Gaeta to the mouth of the Tiber, and leaving 
the shore of Cumse, the closing lines of the sixth book 
informs us that his way for Gaeta lay directly along shore, 
of course in nearly a northern direction. These premises 
lead us, independently of any other consideration, to the 
discovery of the spot upon which he landed in search of 
the Sibyl. It was the coast of Cumse, upon the western 
side of the promontory which, at the north entrance to the 
Bay of Naples, puts down about three miles to the south, 
thus forming the tongue of land which divides the Bay 
of Puzzoli from the Mediterranean Sea. A difficulty seemed 
to present itself to a few critics, as some said it was not 
Cumaj, but Baise, and this would not lead us to the spot 
which, it is contended, furnished the poet with his topog- 


raphy. Cunise was a settlement of the Eubseans, and only 
one of the many Grecian colonies that filled the south of 
Italy, which, as every person at all acquainted with ancient 
geography knows, was called Grecia Magna. That there 
was an extension of this colony to Baire, which is quite 
in its vicinity, is pretty certain ; hence Dion Cassius and 
others called the bay of this latter also by the name of 
the former. In 1822 an ancient Greek sepulchre, similar 
to those of the settlement at Cuma?, was discovered at Baise, 
"\vhicn sustains the statement of Sfrabo respecting the extent 
of the colony. The headland, which we are about to exam- 
ine, runs down little more than three miles at the utmost, 
and is scarcely two miles across. The spot where the poet 
makes JEneas land is somewhat less than two miles north 
from the southwestern point of the promontory, over which 
rises the hill now called Monte di Procida, and which, the 
canon says, is that described in line 234 

"And deathless fame 
Still to the lofty cape consigns his name ; " 

and which derives its name from the burial of Hector's 
trumpeter. The shore here is free from rocks or cliffs, and 
is a fine strand. Hence the description of the arrival of 
the strangers, after the loss of Palinurus, is exceedingly 
appropriate : 

41 He said and wept; then spread his sails before 
The winds, and reached at length the Cuman shore. ' 

Turning to the left from the supposed place of landing, 
the site of the ancient temple of Apollo is found, at the 
distance of three-quarters of a mile. Here some remains 
of a structure are still discovered. Still the spot is called 
Procea di Cuma, and the peasants call the hill which rises 
here Monte di Cuma. The poet has certainly embellished 
the temple erected in a remote antiquity, with sculpture 
worthy of a better age. Yet it is astonishing to find from 
unequivocal proof, furnished by undoubted works of these 


early times, the progress which had been even then made 
in the arts in those regions. I have seen frescoes which 
had been nearly three thousand years executed, and which 
were overwhelmed with rubbish during the greater por- 
tion of that time, as clear, as vivid, and as accurate in 
the outlines of the figures as many which would be admired 
as good productions at this day. That this temple was 
erected long before the arrival of JEneas in Italy, there is- 
great reason .to believe. 

I shall not here inquire concerning the Sybil, but we 
may, perhaps, examine her supposed habitation : 

"A spacious cave within the farthest part 
"Was hewed and fashioned by laborious art 
Through the hill's hollow sides ; before the place 
A hundred doors a hundred entries grace : 
As many voices issue : and the sound 
Of Sybil's words as many times rebound." 

The present appearance of this cavern certainly does not 
correspond with the description here given, nor would the 
description have been at any period perfectly accurate. Much 
must have been left to the imagination of the poet ; all 
that the canon contends for, ought, I think, to be willingly 
conceded, which is, that the poet led his hero by this route 
to the nether world. To any person who has seen the 
Capitol of Rome, the Tarpeian Rock, the Forum of Trajan, 
the Arch of Septimius Severus, or any of the excavations 
by which the "Via Sacra" has been disclosed, little need 
be said to show how the accumulation of centuries will fill 
up hollows and reduce the elevations of precipices. 

This spot is only a few miles from the tomb of Virgil,, 
and the poet must have frequently strayed along this shore. 
Nearly two thousand years have passed away since he 
observed the place, and then it was at least a thousand 
years after the excavation had been made ; and he who* 
had been accustomed to examine such works, and who gen- 
erally was exact in his descriptions, could at that time 
form a better idea of what this excavation was. The canoi> 


thinks he only gives us the round number one hundred 
for several, and conformed to the ordinary notion that the 
cave was the residence of some supernatural or inspired 
being, and thus easily made it the dwelling of the Sibyl. 

The substance of an interesting archaeological dissertation 
which he gives, is that this, like many other caverns gen- 
erally thought to be natural, is in truth artificial. Such 
clearly was Virgil's opinion : " Excisum latus ingens in 
antrum," that the cave was cut into the side of the rock. 
To sustain this position, the canon brings us to contem- 
plate the customs of the first Grecian settlers, which indeed 
were similar to those of others similarly circumstanced. 
Scarcely landed, the first two objects they sought were a 
dwelling-place and security. No spot on the Cumsen coast 
offered a more convenient location for the purpose than 
this the only rock which is near that part of the shore. 
Their usual mode was to build with stone, an<l for this 
the rock afforded material; its elevation was convenient for 
security, and this would be greatly increased by so clearing 
away the projections of the cliff as to make it perpendicular, 
at least on two or three sides. By the process of paring 
it off in this manner, they were also furnished with stone 
for building. They were a patient and persevering race, 
and though emigrants, they had not the insatiable, migratory 
spirit of many of our pioneers. Leaving one habitation, 
they determined to fix upon another as permanent. 

Hence they made preparations for centuries "of residence, 
as they built for a progeny through whose generations they 
considered themselves about to live. 

After having given to the rock its faces, they proceeded 
from the summit to perforate to its bosom, and having 
descended to a sufficient depth, they excavated several large 
chambers for the double purpose of procuring materials and 
of creating a citadel and a store-house. Here, too, they 
penetrated to the living waters, so that no enemy should 
be able to cut off a supply. From the interior they 
wrought long passages towards the sides, and at the extrem- 


ities they made loopholes through which they might receive 
.air and some light and be able also to reconnoitre and to 
.annoy an enemy 

It is acknowledged by all respectable antiquarians that 
such was the origin of numerous excavations in rocks 
spread through the south of Italy, and of many elsewhere. 
Martorelli, upon the authority of Strabo and Ephorus, 
maintains that several of these were excavations in search 
of ore. In most of these citadels there was a temple, 
and generally the shrine of some prophet or prophetess 
was in the most retired part of the cavern. 

In the time of Virgil several of these loopholes were 
considerably enlarged, and the earth had been gradually 
raised around the rock, so that the former windows now 
became so many entrances to the interior, which had prob- 
ably been once famous as the shrine of some pythoness or 
perhaps of the great Sibyl herself. At this day some of 
those apertures exist, though the rock is nearly level with 
the surrounding accumulation of earth. We have the accounts 
of St. Justin the martyr and of Agatius the historian, 
describing this cave. 

In 1787 Carletti says he got nearly lost in its laby- 
rinths ; but that he saw the remains of the temple and 
pieces of mosaic work at a spot where several passages 
united. Jorio himself, in 1811, went through a considera- 
ble portion of it, accompanied by a guide ; he remained 
two hours, and found some human remains, which so ter- 
rified his companions that they could not be induced by 
threats or promises to go forward. 

So far, then, we have the description accurate in its 
principal features, but highly embellished by imagination. 

At the entrance of this cavern, the hero of the poem is 
admonished to seek for the information that he desired, 
and having obtained as much as the poet thought conven- 
ient to communicate, he requests to be taught the way to 
the infernal regions. 

The lake known as Logo di Averno is little more than 


half a mile east of this cavern, but at the time Virgil 
wrote, the country was more thickly wooded than it is at 
present, and it was still more so at that earlier period which 
the poet has selected, nor was the lake to be approached 
in a direct line ; hence the canon supposes that the path 
to the spot which he indicates as "fauces Averni," must 
have wound along the valley which lies between the rock 
we have been describing and the high and rugged ground 
which surrounds the lake. The Trojan leader, in pursuing 
this course, would have increased the distance round the 
northern part of the lake, to arrive at its opposite side, 
nearly three miles, and this journey was to be made through 
a forest. 

"Betwixt those regions and our upper light, 
Deep forests and impenetrable night 
Possess the middle space." 

In studying the topography, we have no concern with 
either the death or burial of Misenus, nor with the manner 
in which JEneas obtains the golden bough which was to 
insure his return to the realms of day; neither need we 
witness the sacrifice. 

Little more than a quarter of a mile to the southeast of 
the Lago di Averno is the Lago Lucrino, or ancient Lucrine 
Lake, so famous for producing some of the luxuries for 
Roman tables, as also for the naval purposes to which it 
was destined by Octavianus, and generally for its being more 
appropriate to recreation than to the fears of those who dwelt 
or sojourned at Baia3. A deep valley passed from the Lake 
Avernus towards the Lucrine. And in this valley the canon 
supposes that the doves led the hero to pluck the golden 

"Thus they led him on 

To the slow lake : v hose baneful stench to shun 
They winged their flight aloft; stopping low, 
Perched on the double tree that bears the golden bough; 
Through the green leaves the glittering shadows glow." 



The branch having been delivered to the Sibyl and the 
last rites paid to the body of Misenus, we find JEneas and 
the prophetess already still farther south than the spot to 
which the doves had led him to obtain his passport. A. 
large cavern here extends from Avernus nearly to the Lucrine 
Lake; at present it is seldom passable in summer, but it is 
opened occasionally in winter, and the entrance at the north 
was formerly quite overshadowed by woods. This has been 
appropriately selected by the poet as the entrance to the 
infernal regions. 

" Deep was the cave and downwards as it went 
From the wide mouth, a rocky, rough descent; 
And here, the access, a gloomy grove descends, 
And here the unnavigable lake extends, 
O'er whose unhappy waters, void of light, 
No hird presumes to steer his airy flight; 
Such deadly stenches from the depth arise, 5 

And steaming sulphur, that infects the skies. 
From hence the Grecian bards, their legends make, 
And give the name Avernus to the lake." 

The sacrifice having been oifered, the awful portents being 
manifest, ^Eneas is warned to draw his sword and to advance 
into the cavern, whither his guides had already rushed. 
This the poet calls "primse fauces Orci," the first jaws of 
Orcu?. The poetical description of the beings who occupied 
this cavern is one of the best-imagined and best-wrought 
productions of Virgil; but this is not the place to dilate 
upon its appropriate excellence. 

Issuing from the southern aperture between you and the 
Lucrine Lake, even at this day, elms are abundant, but 
formerly they were larger, more numerous, and thickly 
entangled. The path is in a narrow ravine. On either 
hand were caverns, many of which were the dens of wild 
animals and the abode of serpents. In several places the 
earth has fallen in, and the caves are choked, but still some 
are visible on either hand ; and the canon thinks it very 
likely, that about the period when Virgil wrote, this might 


have served as a menagerie for the parties who rusticated 
near the ancient Puteoli or at Baise. In either case, the 
poet had the groundwork upon which his imagination could 
well indulge itself. The cavern is at present called Bagno 
della Sibilla, and the stabula ferarum in f&ribus exhibit 
to us the dwelling-places of the hideous forms that besiege 
the door and have their dens in its vicinity, and the elm 
with its dusky arms has to this day remained and made 
manifest the principle to which I have alluded. 

Before proceeding further with the Trojan chief, it will 
be, perhaps, not amiss to examine briefly an assertion of our 
learned commentator, that the Styx is not specially described 
by the poet, but that where the expression does occur in this 
sixth book it is but a general designation, not a particular 
appellation of an infernal river. We have, it is true, five 
lakes within the compass of this peninsula, and there were 
five rivers of the shadowy regions. Avernus is too plainly 
marked to allow a doubt of its identity; the Fusaro and the 
Acquimarta will be easily recognized as the Acheron and the 
Cocytus; the context and other circumstances will lead us to 
the Maremorto as Lethe, and the Lucrine Lake alone would 
remain as the Styx. This river was said to be the daughter 
of Ocean us ; every classic reader is aware that in the days 
of Homer, and even in those of Virgil, the Bay of Pozzuoli 
and the contiguous waters were known as the ocean, and 
when it was agitated by storms, the sea which rolled into 
this bay broke more easily over the low grounds, and rushed 
more forcibly through the communication with the Lucrine 
Lake ; so that, in fact, it was in calm times comparatively 
dry, until the rushing in of the ocean filled, enlarged, and 
made it permanent. But Jorio says that Virgil had too 
much taste to say to the ladies and epicures of Rome that 
this Avas the infernal Styx hence, that, through the entire 
of this book the word is to be taken in its general and not 
in its particular acceptation, and a review of the several 
passages will show us nothing incompatible with this opinion. 
It is mentioned seven times, besides the particular passage 


which seems to me to create the greatest difficulty. First 
the prophetess says to JEneas: 

"But if so dire a love your soul invades 
As twice below to see the trembling shades, 
If you so hard a toil will undertake 
As twice to pass the unnavigable lake." 

" This done, securely take the destined way 
To find the regions destitute of day." 

"With holocausts he Pluto's altar fills." 

" Without whose aid you durst not undertake 
This frightful passage o'er the Stygian lake." 

"Now nearer to the Stygian lake they draw, 
Whom from the shore the surly boatman saw 
Observed their passage through the shady wood, 
And marked their near approaches to the flood." 

''Know this the realm of night, the Stygian shore, 
My boat conveys no living body o'er." 

"But fate forbids; the Stygian floods oppose,. 
And with nine circling streams the captive soul enclose." 1 

Of those passages, the second, third, and fourth clearly 
have the expression general. The great difficulty would be 
to reconcile the 323d line and the general statement of the 
ancients respecting the oath of the gods, with the opinion 
of Canon Jorio, before we could say that in the first, fifth, 
sixth, and seventh passages, the expression was also general. 

The expression of the Sybil appears to me not only 
exceedingly distinct, but points to a special circumstance 
respecting the Styx, than which there is not in all mythology 
one better and more precisely understood. 

"Son of Anchises, offspring of the gods, 
The Sibyl said, 'you see the Stygian floods, 
The eacred streams which heaven's imperial state 
Attest in oaths, and fear to violate.' " * 

>The following nro the verses cited: 154, C57, 3C8, 388, 391, 438. 


If, however, we will suppose that Virgil, like most other 
poets, used freely the privileges to which he was entitled, 
Ave may then take the Lucrine Lake for the Styx. The 
traveller passing the ferarum stabula, after emerging from 
the grotto of Avernus, leaving this on his left, proceeds by 
what is known as the Scaiandrone, towards Lago del 
Fusaro called by Virgil the Palus Acherusia or "Ache- 
rontis ad undas." 

JEneas and the Sibyl, having now passed through the dark 
grotto which lies between the Lago d'Averno and the vicinity 
of the Lucrine Lake, had issued from the cave into that 
region which we may now consider as the "Infernal." 

From the southern aperture of this cavern there are three 
roads one on the left hand leads in a northeast direction 
to Pozzuoli and Solfatara ; with this we have no concern ; 
another, southward of east, leads to the Lago Lucrino and 
the Gulf of Pozzuoli, the ocean of the ancients ; whilst 
another, nearly south, leads to the Lakes of Fusaro and 
Aquamorta, which are not a furlong apart, and not more 
than a mile from the cavern of Avernus, called still Bagno 
della Sibilla. This is, then, the only road which leads to a 
spot whence a view might be had of the two lakes, and is, 
therefore, well described in line 295 : 

"Hence to deep Acheron they take their way, 
Whose turbid eddies, thick with ooze and clay, 
Are whirled aloft and in Cocytus lost." 

The relative position of the two lakes, neither of which 
is large, but that of the Aquamorta much the smaller, 
produces even to-day the same effects that are described. 
When by the overflowing of the sea or any other cause, 
the Lago del Fusaro is overcharged, it pours a flood of 
turbid water, thick with filth and sands, into the Aquamorta 
or Cocytus, which is one of the most pestilential little 
mud-holes in this vicinity. 

The present road from the Lucrine Lake to that of 
Fusaro leads towards the northern extremity of the latter, 


and gives no opportunity of seeing both the supposed 
Acheron and Cocytus from one point. Jorio, however, gives 
sufficient reasons to show that the ancient road, which existed 
in the time of Virgil, had a different direction, and led to 
a small elevation less than a furlong distant from the 
southeastern border of the Acheron, whence they are both fully 
visible, and where the Sibyl might very properly have said : 

"Cocyti stagna alta vides, Stygiamque paludem;" 1 

and, indeed, the lake of Fusaro may this day, as well as 
nineteen centuries ago, be properly called palus, as the 
Aquamorta is most aptly designated by the expression stagna. 
Upon the borders of the Lake of Fusaro, the poet placed 
those whom he described as 

"The ghosts rejected are the unhappy crew, 
Deprived of sepulchres and funerals due." 

The crowd here is very great, and amongst them is the 
lost Palinurus, who most pathetically implores to be relieved, 
by having his obsequies performed, and receives the assur- 
ance from his former chieftain that a day will come when 
the rites shall be paid, and his name honorably transmitted 
to future ages. 

At the present day, you will easily find a boatman who, 
occupying a bark at the spot which our canon believes to 
l)e the same which Virgil assigned to Charon, will convey 
the traveler across ; though this ferryman must receive a 
larger fee than the tariff which Pluto fixed as a sufficient 
remuneration for the grisly boatman of former centuries. 
However, all this is, perhaps, just, because the modern 
tourist will be treated with more civility, and is certainly 
more weighty than a ghost. 

Having crossed the lake at a place where it is some- 
thing less than a half-mile in width, you land at less than 
that distance from the sea, and upon soil which this day 
answers the description given by the poet : 

"His passengers at length are wafted o'er, 
Exposed in muddy weeds upon the miry shore."* 

1 Line 833. * Lino 415. 


Turning to the north from this spot, the lake is on the 
left hand, and the sea within a little more than a fur- 
long on your right, and the high headland of Monte di 
Procida rises with abrupt rocks before you. But not more 
than one hundred yards in front of you, is the little hill 
of Torre della Gaveta, quite near the shore and the mouth 
of the stream which communicates between the Lago del 
Fusaro and the sea. Here, in a hill, is a cavern, cut by 
the early Greek settlers, to form this communication between 
the lake and the Mediterranean. It has frequently, how- 
ever, its channel so choked with sand that it becomes 
necessary, in the end of the spring, to clear and deepen 
the passage. In this also winds and waters frequently 
make a fitful noise, and this was the fancied abode of 
Cerberus : 

" No sooner landed in his den they found 
The triple porter of the Stygian sound, 
Grim Cerberus." ' 

Having given to him his sop, and finding him now 
spread powerless in sleep : 

"The keeper charmed, the chief, without delay, 
Passed on and took the irremeable way." 

The stream here may, without any great stretch of im- 
agination, be called " not to be repassed ; " for it is not 
by this path our hero returns. 

Going forward, the traveler now ascends the hill upon 
which the tower of Gaveta is built, and as he descends 
towards the southeast, he enters a valley which the poet 
describes in the succeeding lines : 

"Before the gates the cries of babes new-born, 
Whom fate had from their tender mothers torn, 
Assault his ears; then those whom form of laws 
Condemned to die when traitors judged their cause." * 

It would be -curious and instructive here to enter upon 
the examination of the doctrines of the ancient schools, 

i Line 417. * Line 434. Line 426. 


especially that of Plato, concerning the future state ; particu- 
larly as Virgil, throughout his book, gives a beautiful exem- 
plification of the opinions of that celebrated philosopher. Hav- 
ing ascertained what those doctrines were, the next step would 
be to trace their origin ; to see the sources whence he derived 
his information ; to find how much of his knowledge he 
drew from the sacred volumes of the chosen people of 
God, and from the original traditions given by the patri- 
archs, of the information directly received, concerning the 
other world, from God himself, by Adam, by Seth, by 
Enos, by Noe, by Abraham, and others ; to view the addi- 
tions and the changes which mythology had introduced, and 
to see what beautiful imagery the mind of the poet spread 
through the description ; but this is not our present object. 
The valley here is just such as you would consider calculated 
to fill the helpless babes with terror, and to minister to 
the pensive feelings of the innocent victims of mistaken 

Jorio informs us, to sustain the accuracy of his remarks, 
that if you inquire of the peasants who inhabit Monte di 
Procida, and particularly that part called Cappo Vecchie, 
marked by the ruins of Roman buildings, where is the road 
de V inferno, they will bring you by the winding road to the 
descent on the side of this outlet of Fusaro, by the tortu- 
ous paths going down from crag to crag they will lead 
you to the entrance of this valley, and thence through it, 
by the very way which I am about to describe. 

He places, after describing the tribunal of Minos, the 
unfortunate suicides in the next location on the southern 
side of the Aquamorta, or Cocytus. We have then the 
description : 

"Not far from thence the mournful fields appear, 
So called from lovers that inhabit there ; 
The souls whom that unhappy flame invades, 
In secret solitude and myrtle shades 
Make endless moans, and pining -with desire 
Lament, too late, the unextinguishecl fire."* 

i Line 440. 


After describing a number of the unhappy victims who 
dwell in this dismal region, JEneas is brought to meet the 
wretched Dido, who treats him with fixed dislike and 
deserved scorn. These plains stretch forward better than a 
furlong, a little south of east from the Aquamorta, and 
the canon brings to our view the mythological statement 
that the waters of the Cocytus were increased by the tears 
of unfortunate lovers, which adds to the evidence of the 
poet's precision and to the probability of the canon's 

In the last stage of this region, he places the warriors, 
and takes occasion to describe several of those famed for 
prowess in the Trojan war, and to introduce the beautiful 
but concise history of Deiphobus, with its instructive moral. 

We now come to a spot which the poet thus describes : 

"'Tis here in different parts the way divides. 
The right to Pluto's golden palace guides, 
The left to that unhappy region tends, 
Which to the depth of Tartarus descends, 
The seat of night's profound and punished fiends." 

This spot is little more than half a mile from the Aqua- 
morta, and at present the road divides ; on your left, 
advancing in the way which leads from the supposed cave 
of Cerberus. When you come to this division, you see a 
region which is fitted to suggest the idea given of Tartarus 
by the poet; and keeping the line to your right, you 
would arrive at those regions that he calls Elysium. To 
the left is a region bounded on the west by the Acheru- 
sian Lake and the muddy and pestilential Cocytus, while 
the sterile region leading to the den of beasts stretches 
on before you. Several critics have ridiculed the notion 
that there could have been in this vile and deserted spot 
anything to suggest to Virgil the existence of the city of 
the damned, such as he describes it in this sixth book. 
But suppose there was nothing which bore an actual resem- 
blance to the place described, still it is properly urged 

i Line 540. 


that at least this much latitude should be fairly allowed 
to the bard, that he might place an imaginary city on the 
spot. Yet we will not content ourselves with this answer. 
It can be easily shown that in this region are to be found 
many of the materials from which such a city could be 
constructed, and that there was in former days a city upon 
the very site. Let us, however, look at the description: 

The hero, looking to the left, espied 
A iOfty tower, and strong on every side, 
With treble walls, which Phlegethon surrounds, 
Whose fiery flood the burning empire bounds, 
And pressed betwixt the rocks, the bellowing noise resounds." ' 

In the first place, this whole region is in a great measure 
volcanic; and not only here, but at the other side of the 
Bay of Puzzuoli, the evidences of it are abundant. In this 
very spot are the craters of two scarcely extinct, though 
small, volcanoes. No very great stretch of imagination is 
required to view in their flood of burning lava the fiery 
stream of Phlegethon, either roaring as it rushes between 
xocks, or as it bears them along tumbling in its torrent, 
creating an appalling noise. The peasants will this day 
point out what they call Fumarole, very distinct tokens of 
subterraneous fires to the west of the Scalandrone, on the 
very site of the city of the damned, as described by the 
poet. Homer informs us that the Phlegethon is discharged 
into the Acheron and the Cocytus. Virgil was a close 
student of Homer, and his Phlegethon would naturally flow 
from the site into the Lago del Fusaro and the Aqua- 
morta. These volcanoes were probably much more active 
in the time of Virgil than we find them to-day. Thus, 
the fiery stream was a natural suggestion. 

The walls of the city of Misenus presented themselves 
here also to the observation of the poet. Even to-day you 
will find scarcely a space of three hundred yards without 
the ruins of some ancient Roman structure, some of them 
of considerable extent, many of them covered with strata 

i Line 548. 


of volcanic matter. You will find several caves and Greek 
and Roman sepulchres, so that there was sufficient occasion 
to lead the imagination to a subterraneous fiery prison, the 
entrance to which was in a citadel surrounded by a naming 
river. This was the Tartarean region, or the hell of the 
poet, which was exhibited to his hero, but into which he 
did not enter. The fortress was impregnable, and from it 
issued the cries of the tortured. His guide informed him 
of the mode of judgment and the dire infliction of ven- 
geance ; and the hero saw the gates open, so as to enable 
him to describe the terrific disclosures that were thus made, 
and to convery the detail to those who had not been privi- 
leged as he was. 

** The gaping gulf low to the centre lies. 
And twice as deep as earth is distant from the skies. 
The rival of the gods, the Titan race, 
Here singed with lightning roll within the unfathomed space." 1 

Whoever has been at the Grotto del Cane or in the hot 
sulphur caverns between Naples and Pozzuoli, is perfectly 
aware of the effect of the exhalation from this soil. Add 
to this the volcanic matter, the ruins of ancient tombs, the 
occasional shakings of the earth, and some notions may be 
formed of the mythological relations of the restless and 
tortured Titans, endeavoring to rise and disturbing the soil 
under which they are buried, so as to create those fissures 
which emit the stench of their brimstone graves to our 
upper world. 

The concluding lines of the poet, after the enumeration 
of several of the wretched culprits, are beautiful and highly 
instructive : 

"Unhappy Theseus, doomed for ever there, 
Is fixed by fate on his eternal chair, 
And -wretched Phlegias warns the world with cries, 
(Could warning make the world more just or wise,) 
Learn righteousness, and dread the avenging deities. 
To tyrants others have their country sold, 
Imposing foreign laws for foreign gold. 

I Line 677. 


Some have old laws repealed, new statutes made, 

Not as the people pleased, hut as they paid. 

With incest some their daughters' heds profaned ; 

All dared the worst of ill, and what they dared, attained. 

Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, 

And throats of brass, inspired with iron lungs, 

1 could not half those horrid crimes repeat, 

Nor half the punishments those crimes have met." * 

This was the Tartarus, or hell, into which, as I remarked, 
the hero did not enter, but with a view and description 
of which he was favored. The spot from which it was 
examined was just beyond that described as the division 
of the roads, " Hie locus est partes ubi se via findit in 
ambas," and is now called Croce via di Capella. At a short 
distance beyond it, on the road, is the Mercato di Sabato, 
where formerly stood a circus, which probably suggested to 
the poet the following description, given by the priestess: 

"The walls of Pluto's palace are in view; 
The gate and iron arch above it stands, 
On anvils labored by the Cyclops' hands."* 

AVe have again, in a single expression of the poet, an 
admirable coincidence with the site : 

"She said, and through the gloomy shades they passed, 
And chose the middle path." 3 

Just here, even at this day, the road branches into 
three parts; that to the right leads to the western ex- 
tremity of the Mare Morto, where it approaches the Monte di 
Procida. Mythological writers inform us that Lethe touches 
on the confines of the infernal regions, a portion of which 
was in the ravines of this mountain; and thus we may 
suppose this lake, which is formed by an influx from one 
of the deep indentings of the Bay of Pozzuoli, is the 
fabled Lethe itself. On the left, the road leads towards the 
Scalandrone, and back to Averno. The Spatium Medium 
will lead to the northeastern shore of the Mare Morto, or 
Lethe, and here are the Elysian fields; for again mythology 

J Line^617. * Line 630. Line 683. 


informs us that Lethe stretched along the borders of those 
happy regions. This middle path, then, was followed by 
the Trojan chieftain, who having performed the proper 
lustrations and duly offered his golden bough by placing 
it over the portal, was admitted. 

The difference of the soil and the variety of productions 
form here a contrast with the gloomy, the sterile, the vol- 
canic, and the rugged regions through which our way had 
lain before, and very naturally suggested to the Mantuan 
bard those happy lines : 

"These holy rites performed, they took their way 
Where long-extended plains of pleasure lay. 
The verdant fields with those of heaven may vie, 
With ether vested and a purple sky; 
The blissful seats of happy souls below, 
Stars of their own, and their own sun they know." l 

The melody of the raptured poet now grows richer with 
the increasing grandeur of the scene, and perhaps few de- 
scriptions can be found to equal that which is given in 
his succeeding lines. To observe upon this is not, how- 
ever, our object. After due inquiry he discovers the loved 
object of his search ; their interview is in the midst of 
those gentle elevations and the varying undulations which 
enrich this spot. The Platonic system, modified with 
peculiar diversities of the poet's own adoption, is beauti- 
fully unfolded the mingling of the universal mind with 
matter in its various modifications, the death of man, and 
his judgment. They who escape Tartarus are generally 
doomed to a variety of purgations, according to the stains 
with which they are disfigured : 

41 E'en when those bodies are by death resign'd, 
Some old, inherent spots are left behind, 
A sullying tincture of corporeal stains 
Deep in the substance of the soul remains. 
Thus are her splendors dimmed and crusted o'er 
With those dark vices that she knew before. 
For this the souls a various penance pay, 
To purge the taints of former crimes away." * 

i Line 637. 2 Line 135. 


Of Elysium he proceeds then to say, after some special 
descriptions of the previous process of purgation: 

"And few so cleansed to those abodes repair, 
And breathe in ample fields the Eoft Elysian air." ' 

However, this happiness is not to continue, for the 
transmigration of souls forms a part of the system : 

"Both these thin airy throngs thy eyes behold, 
When o'er their heads a thousand years have rolled, 
In mighty crowds to yon Lethean flood, 
Swarm at the potent summons of the God, 
There deep the draught of dark oblivion drain, 
Then they desire new bodies to obtain, 
And visit heaven's ethereal realms again." a 

Thus, numbers who never entered Elysium, but were 
detained in their state of purgation, were, according to this 
philosophical system, sent back with the happy souls to- 
animate new bodies. After this view of the poet's notion 
of Elysium, I shall hasten to compare the few remaining 
passages with the topography. At the moment when An- 
chises was discovered by his son, the poet describes hi* 
situation : 

' But old Anchises in a flowery vale 
Reviewed his mustered race, and took the tale: 
Those happy spirits which, ordained by fate, 
For future being and new bodies wait; 
With studious thought observed th' illustrious throng, 
In nature's order as they passed along. 
Their names, their fate, their conduct and their care, 
In peaceful senate and successful war." 3 

After having gone forward from the Mercato di Sabato r 
and stood on one of those pretty swellings of the ground, 
the hollows are exposed to view, and we find Anchises 
thus occupied in one of those delightful spots, at some 
distance forward. The Mare Morto is also visible, with 
its open strand on the right; and it was to its banks that 
they who now pressed forward to re-enter mortal existence 

> Lino 743. * L'no 748. Line C70. 



were approaching, whilst amongst them the great father of 
the Roman race was surveying his future progeny. JEneas 
went quickly forward to him, to a spot answering the 
description, near the northeastern extremity of this lake ; 
and after the first efforts to embrace his parent, Virgil 
informs us : 

"Now in a secret vale the Trojan sees 
A separate grove, through which a gentle breeze 
Pfrays with a passing breath, and whispers through the trees ; 
And just before the confines of the wood, 
The gliding Lethe leads her silent flood, 
About the boughs an airy nation flew." * 

And when the visitor expressed his desire to know who- 
they were, the father answers : 

"The souls that throng the flood 
Are those to whom, by fate, are other bodies owed. 
In Lethe's lake they long oblivion taste; 
Of future life secure, forgetful of the past." 4 

Mentioning a desire, which he had long entertained, to 
give to his son the knowledge of his future descendants, 
he proceeds to unfold that explanation to which I have 
before drawn your attention, of the process of man's- 
existence and of the Platonic system. 

It is here to be remarked, that at this day the scenery 
at this northeastern part of the lake is described with 
tolerable accuracy by the passage which has been quoted 
before the last, if we credit many who have seen and 
testify it. After the doctrinal communication, if I may so- 
call it, Anchises is desirous to bring under his son's ob- 
servation the succession of heroes which he had been con- 
templating, and for this purpose the poet very naturally 
caused him to bring ^Eneas to a more elevated spot. 

"Thus having said the father spirit leads 
The priestess and his son through swarms of shades, 
And takes a rising ground from thence to see 
The long procession of his progeny." * 

i Line 7 3. * Line 713. ' Line 733. 



This is a spot called Puzzillo, and here the poet takes 
opportunity of giving, through Anchises, that splendid enu- 
meration of those sages and heroes whom he desired to 
celebrate, until the catalogue closes with that sublime and 
pathetic exclamation which procured wealth and fame for 
the writer : 

"Oh, couldst thou shun the dreadful stroke of late; 
Rome should in thee behold, with ravished eyes, 
Her pride, her darling, her Marcellus rise." 1 

A little above Puzzillo are the ruins of ancient vast 
structures, and this day, in the midst of them, is the 
parish church of St. Anne, the vestibule of which is 
marked by the canon as the spot where stood, in former 
days, the gate which was selected by our poet as that of 
horn. This is on your right, and a short distance on your 
left is Bacoli, not far from the tomb of Agrippina ; here 
was the gate of ivory. 

"Two gates the silent courts of sleep adorn 
That of pale ivory, this of lucid horn, 
Through this pale visions take their airy way, 
Through that false phantoms mount the realms of day." * 

The Sibyl and her companion having been dismissed by 
Anchises through the ivory gate, 

"Straight to the ships uEneas took his way." 8 

In the very expression, "secat viam," the canon finds 
evidence of correctness of his illustrations, because there 
is a short path from Bacoli to the spot where the Trojans 
landed, which cuts straight across the peninsula and at 
angles with the other roads over which we have gone. 

"Then steering by the strand he plows the sea, 
And to Caieta's port directs his way," 4 

which could not have been the case from Baise, which is 
at the opposite side of the promontory from Cuma3 and 

Lino 889. Line 893. Lino 899. Line 900. 


within the Bay of Pozzuoli ; the voyage from which would 
require the rounding of that cape, and certainly could not 
be said to go recto litore; whereas, from the coast at 
Cumai it is a plain direct course, straight along the shore 
to Gaeta. 

I have thus endeavored to give you the principal illus- 
trations exhibited by the learned Italian canon, to show 
that in this, which is amongst the finest books of descrip- 
tive poetry and splendid fiction, the great author was more 
guided than is generally imagined by a close and patient 
study of actual scenery. How far I have succeeded in 
conveying his reasoning, I cannot say; how far I have 
sustained my position, it is for you to judge. 


THAT it is useful to set aside particular days for the 
celebration of great events, is sustained not only by the 
usage of all nations, but by the advantages resulting from 
that usage. Each succeeding week is, by divine institution, 
marked by a day made holy. Man is thus reminded of 
his duties to his Creator ; he thereon withdraws from the 
bustle of worldly occupation, he devotes himself to the 
contemplation of his eternal destiny, he seeks to discover 
the means whereby he may secure his lasting happiness. 
For this purpose he revises his conduct, endeavors to cor- 
rect his faults, to make progress in virtue, to partake of 
the benefits of religious observance. He also, by the 
observance of the day, gives encouragement to his com- 
panions, and trains up those who depend upon him, and 
who are to succeed him, in an acquaintance with the great 
principles which are to direct their practice, so as to per- 
petuate the service of God, and to secure the salvation of 
himself and of others. 

That great Being from whom the precept for this observ- 
ance emanated, was well acquainted with our nature > 
because He formed us, and was able to regulate and 
to direct the work of His own hands. The law was 
enacted to preserve in our memory a recollection of our 
duty, to enforce its obligation on the understanding, to 
excite the will to resolve upon its performance, and to 
interweave an attachment for it with our dearest affections. 

i Oration delivered before the Washington Light Infantry, at their request. In 
tho Roman Catholic Cathedral Church of St. Flnbar, in the city of Charleston, 
on the 22d of February, 1838, being the thirty-first anniversary of the Company. 


But though the religious homage of God be our first duty, 
it is not our only obligation. Not only is man destined 
to be an inhabitant of heaven, but he is also doomed to 
sojourn for a while upon the earth. During that period 
assigned for his pilgrimage here he is surrounded by many 
cares, and subject to several wants, for which he not only 
is bound to provide, but in exerting himself for which 
purpose he' may lawfully seek, especially for those who de- 
pend upon him, or with whom he is connected, such a 
measure of enjoyment and happiness as will gratify kim 
and them, without endangering that more glorious inherit- 
ance to which we all aspire. 

In his relation to transitory things, man is liable to more 
immediate, more vivid, and more lasting impressions from 
those things which affect him directly and personally, than 
from those which regard him but generally as a member 
of society, and indirectly through that circumstance ; just 
as he is more wrought upon by sensible objects and pres- 
ent enjoyments, than by the invisible things of a future 
world, and by the remote prospects of happiness or of 
misery. Yet it frequently happens in society, as in religion, 
that our true welfare depends infinitely more upon what is 
least calculated to attract our immediate attention or to 
excite our first or our warmest interest. And upon the 
same principle that the Lord instituted His holy day, to 
correct this evil as regards religion ; so is it useful to 
have certain days set apart, to correct the mistakes of 
human selfishness, and to convinc3 individuals that their 
own respective advantages will be better secured by labor- 
ing together as members of society to promote the general 
welfare. Hence, civil and political festivals, judiciously regu- 
lated, are of great advantage to the State at large, and 
consequently to the individuals who compose the body 

That same character of our nation, to which I have 
alluded, also shows that the bulk of mankind are neces- 
sarily more affected by those objects that strike their senses, 


than by any abstract meditations. Man is not a merely 
spiritual being; he sees through the eye, he hears through 
the ear, he tastes by the palate, and so of the other organs 
of sense. They are the usual channels through which his 
soul is informed, impressed, or excited, and therefore, by 
a common usage of our race, on those festive occasions, 
there are exhibitions to the eye, information by addresses, 
or excitement by music for the ear, the indulgence of the 
feast, and other devices of enjoyment ; and all are calcu- 
lated, by a proper and judicious distribution, to produce 
the happiest effect upon the mind, though, like every other 
good, they may be abused, and may thereby occasion the 
most deplorable results. 

The mind, also, is much more easily and securely 
instructed by the contemplation of striking events properly 
displayed before it, than by any abstruse reasoning or spec- 
ulative disquisition. In this contemplation, objects are easily 
grasped by the senses or apprehended by the imagination, 
and retained by the memory: Hence, festivals are not, 
whether in religious or civil society, the mere contempla- 
tion of abstract principles, but the commemoration of events 
in which principles are practically and beneficially exhibited. 

Man is easily and powerfully wrought upon by the exam- 
ple of his fellows. We would derive little, if any, benefit 
from attempting a philosophical inquiry into the cause; it is 
enough that we know the fact; and hence the public good 
is greatly promoted by holding forth to the world the bright 
examples of the benefactors of mankind. Not only are sal- 
utary emulation and a virtuous ambition thereby created, 
but the vain excuses of timidity or sloth, when they plead 
the existence of insuperable difficulties and the impossiblity 
of success, are at once triumphantly answered, by showing 
what men like ourselves have achieved; and the noblest 
human motives to exertion are furnished, by showing the 
benefits which one man may procure for millions. Whilst 
the d'eds of our honored brother are recounted, we feel an 
energy for whose origin we cannot indeed account, but 


whose effects are powerful and may be highly beneficial. 
Thus has the roll of fame been inscribed in every age 
and in every nation, with the names of the wise, of the 
good, of the learned, of the brave, of the holy, of the 
devoted, of the laborious, of the benevolent, and of the 
just. Temples have been erected, cities have been named, 
monuments have been raised, games have been instituted, 
festivals celebrated, and a variety of other modes devised, to 
hold forth their example, and to perpetuate their renown. 
But 'in the whole multitude, I find few, who in respect to 
the peculiar end for which he appears to have been fitted by 
Providence, stands so honorably conspicuous; not one whose 
example can be so beneficially held forth as a lesson and 
a model to the citizens of our republics, as our own Wash- 
ington. And I undertake the task, which you have so 
kindly assigned me, with high gratification indeed, for the 
honor you have conferred upon one whom you have long 
since thought proper to enroll upon the respectable list of 
honorary members of your corps, but with a diffidence 
which is as unfeigned as it is unusual; because the under- 
taking in which I have engaged is quite new to me, and 
the theme is as difficult as the subject is elevated. 

Though I cannot attempt to delineate the character of 
the father of our country, I shall endeavor to sketch an 
imperfect outline, and my deficiency will require all your 

The date of his birth is well known, the 22d of Feb- 
ruary, 1732; and that his family was one of repute for a 
considerable period previous to the departure of his ances- 
tors from England, as his relatives and connections were 
subsequently amongst the most respectable in Virginia. 

1 am far from attributing merit to birth, but I am by 
no means inclined to deny the general influence of station 
and society upon the education, the sentiments, and the 
conduct of individuals. Several of the greatest men that 
have conferred benefit upon the human family, have steadily 
risen from the humble position into which they had been 


cast by the obscurity of their origin ; and we have num- 
berless instances of the degrading vices, the mischievous 
pranks, the criminal courses, and the base and unprincipled 
tyranny, of not only individual members, but of entire 
progenies of the aristocracy. Unfortunately, also, it is but 
too true, that instances of the former description are far 
more rare than of the latter. This, however, does not 
interfere with the position that I would lay down ; which 
is, that the civilized habits, the polite manners, the more 
extended information, which are generally found in s6me 
classes ; the necessity under which their station places them 
of giving to their children the best education, and the 
facilities which they have of procuring it ; as well as the 
conviction of the child, that it is only by sustaining him- 
self in his place, by having the manners, the conduct, and 
the information, which are expected to be found therein, 
that he can escape degradation and contempt, form a union 
of powerful aids and incentives to improvement. We need 
not, therefore, distribute mankind into classes of different 
blood and unlike nature; in order to arrive at the conclu- 
sion, that the circumstance of birth is in many instances 
favorable to the improvement of the individuals. So far 
from being injurious to our republican principles of the 
equality of citizens, and tending to degrade a large por- 
tion of the community, I can consider it only as giving 
more merit to the individuals, who with less favorable 
auspices have, by the power of intellect, the adherence to 
principle, and the application of industry, outstripped those 
who had greater original advantages. I consider the mis- 
chievous concession to aristocracy to consist in attaching 
peculiar privileges to those born in a particular family ; 
but not in the admission, that from the peculiarity of their 
position they have greater opportunities of improvement. 

George Washington was thus at his earliest moments 
placed in the most favorable position that the circumstances 
of the colony would allow, for the best education that 
could be obtained, from an intercourse with those whose 


minds were cultivated, whose principles were established, 
and whose habits were formed by a good stock of knowl- 
edge, by industrious pursuits, and honorable occupation. 
The schools then existing afforded indeed but little scope 
for great progress in science. At the period of his father's 
death, in 1743, he could read, write, and solve a consider- 
able number of arithmetical questions ; and very few schools 
at that time in the Southern country carried education to 
a higher grade. The character of the mother is generally 
sup'posed, and I believe not inconsiderately, to have from 
nature, even more than from the force of teaching or exam- 
ple, a powerful influence upon the character of the son. 
As far as we can learn, Washington was again fortunate 
in this respect. This widow had been a Miss Ball, and 
was the second wife of Mr. Augustine Washington, who, at 
the time of his death, placed in her a well-deserved con- 
fidence of managing a large property, chiefly acquired by 
his own industry, and of superintending the education of 
her children, of whom George was eldest. She continued 
to keep him at school, and to enable him to acquire such 
information as could there be afforded him. 

At this early period, he had obtained over the minds 
of his companions that moral ascendency, which through 
life he was enabled by the very same principles, more 
fully developed and more extensively applied, to gain over 
his fellow-citizens and to preserve to the termination of his 
life. His love of discipline caused him to be placed at 
the head of their little military organizations ; his probity 
and judgment secured to his awards, as arbiter in their 
differences, a ready and willing execution. His exercises 
were such as fitted him for activity and vigilance, and his 
love for mathematics and attention to forms of business 
showed a fondness for order, a patience of toil, a desire 
of improvement, and steadiness of purpose not often found 
in a youth of only fourteen years of age. 

His eldest brother, Lawrence, the first son of Mr. Wash- 
ington's first wife, was at this period a respectable officer 


in the British forces ; he had served under General Went- 
worth and Admiral Vernon at the siege of Carthagena, and 
he had acquired with them some influence by his correct 
and gentlemanly conduct. Lawrence was greatly attached to 
his brother George; and believing, from what he had seen 
of his capacity and habits, that he would easily win his 
way to distinction in the British navy, procured for him, 
through these friends, a midshipman's warrant, in the year 
1746. George, pleased with the appointment, was preparing 
to enter into a service that, if once taken up by him, 
would probably have materially interfered with the progress, 
if not the issue, of a revolution, which amongst the many 
that have shaken the nations within the last century, stands 
alike distinguished for the justice of its grounds, the mod- 
eration of its proceedings, the wisdom of its process, and 
the success of its results. A mother's authoritative request 
was the mode through which this difficulty was removed, 
by that God who sweetly and powerfully brings about His 
own wise purposes, without exposing His counsels to the 
over-curious scrutiny of men. 

We have already seen in the boy many traces of what 
became the character of the man. The eye of the artist 
discerns in the block of marble the fair proportions of the 
concealed statue ; the material is precious, but much of it 
must, by patience, by attention, and by exquisite skill, be 
cut off and pared away, before the majestic figure, which 
he detects, can be exhibited to the eye of an admiring 
multitude. Washington may, under God, be considered as 
having been fashioned by a special providence. At this early 
period, he had already either laid down or adopted a wise 
code for the regulation of his conduct. This consisted of one 
hundred and ten rules, of which Mr. Sparks, his biogra- 
pher, justly observes: "Whoever has studied the character 
of Washington will be persuaded, that some of its promi- 
nent features took their shape from these rules, thus early 
selected and adopted as his guide." In another place he 
says of some of them, that they were " fitted to soften 


and polish the manners, to keep alive the best affections 
of the heart, to impress the obligation of the moral vir- 
tues, to teach what is due to others in social relations, and 
above all to inculcate the practice of a perfect self-control." 

"In studying the character of Washington, it is obvious 
that this code of rules had an influence upon his whole 
life. His temperament was ardent, his passions strong, and, 
amidst the multiplied scenes of temptation and excitement 
through which he passed, it was his constant effort and 
ultimate triumph to check the one and subdue the other. 
His intercourse with men, private and public, in every 
walk and station, was marked with a consistency and fit- 
ness to occasion, a dignity, decorum, condescension, and 
mildness, a respect for the claims of others, and a deli- 
cate perception of the nicer shades of civility ; which was 
not more the dictate of his native good sense and incom- 
parable judgment, than the fruits of long and unwearied 

It would be well if the respect that is so justly due to 
the father of his country, engaged its children to adopt 
the maxims by whose influence he became worthy of their 
esteem. It would be well if, in place of encouraging a 
spirit of bad pride, of arrogant self-sufficiency, and per- 
mitting unchecked rudeness to become a habit, under the 
notion of preserving a spirit of independence, parents 
would instill into the minds of their children such maxims; 
and by the proper exercise of their authority keep them 
within the restraint of that politeness which so peculiarly 
characterized, perhaps, the least offensive and the most reso- 
lute man that the eighteenth century has produced. 

At the age of sixteen, he entered upon the laborious 
v duties of a land-surveyor in a wilderness. The profession, 
besides promising to be lucrative, afforded an excellent 
opportunity for the inspection of new lands and for making 
valuable purchases. His first excursion was beyond the eastern 
Alleghany range, whither he went in March, 1749, whilst 
winter still held possession of the summits of this lofty bar- 


xier, rivers were swollen by falling rains and melting snows, 
and his path lay through tangled forests, abrupt precipices, 
uninvaded swamps, and in a region where it was a luxury 
to find a log hut, as a relief from the inconvenience of 
the surveyor's tent. Yet was this, in the order of Provi- 
dence, a suitable preparation for the man who was destined, 
at a future day, to share in the privations and to direct 
the movements of ill-provided armies, in similar circum- 
stances; and this was the very spot in which he was 
destined to make his first military movements, in the service 
of the colony, several years previous to the Revolution. 
During the three years that he continued thus occupied, 
he had acquired a habit of business, and established a 
character for ability and integrity; nor was he estranged 
from his family, for he was sometimes a welcome inmate 
at the residence of his eldest brother, who now dwelt on 
the banks of the Potomac, at a farm to which he gave 
the name of Mount Vernon, from his affectionate regard 
to his friend the admiral, and he also visited his mother, 
whom he occasionally aided in the regulation of the family 

"When he had attained the age of nineteen, the frontiers 
of Virginia, which then comprised the present State of 
Kentucky, were threatened by Indian depredations and 
the encroachments of France, whose Canadian possessions 
stretched along on the west towards Louisiana, and were 
said to include Indiana, Illinois, and even Ohio. The 
colony of Virginia was laid off into military districts, over 
each of which was appointed an adjutant-general, with the 
rank of major, who was to assemble and to exercise the 
militia, to inspect their arms, and to enforce the disciplinary 
regulations to which they were subjected. "Washington was 
appointed to this office in one of the districts, and felt 
that it was now his duty to acquire as perfect a knowl- 
edge as possible of the use of weapons, of tactics, and of 
evolutions. In the society of his brother and others, who 
had served in the wars, he had sufficient opportunities. 


The death of his brother increased his cares ; for the 
confidence and affection of the dying man, and the high 
esteem in which George was held by the surviving mem- 
bers of the family and their , friends, placed him, though 
the youngest of the executors, in the administration of an 
estate which was ultimately, by the arrangement of the 
deceased, to vest in himself. The military organization of 
the province was changed, but Major Washington's appoint- 
ment was renewed; so that he found himself, at a period 
when very few think of commencing the duties of life, 
already at the head of a large property, in the adminis- 
tration of an extensive estate, loved by his family, confided 
in by the public for his integrity, and entrusted by the 
government with a charge of nearly the first rank and of 
the highest importance. If we stop to inquire how this 
occurred, AVC shall have no difficulty in discovering; for 
unceasing industry, well-regulated ambition of improvement, 
proper respect for the established rules of society, immov- 
able integrity, patient endurance of toil, and self-denial 
which arose from the determination to answer the confidence 
that was reposed in him, all united to a systematic course 
of conduct laid down and steadily followed, enabled him to 
perform with facility, order and success duties that would 
have otherwise perplexed by their confusion, overwhelmed 
with their weight, and destroyed in their ruin, the indi- 
vidual who would have rashly undertaken them. Washing- 
ton has scarcely attained to manhood, and yet his character 
is already formed, and is extensively and advantageously 
known. He had labored greatly, he had endured much, 
he had overcome many a temptation, ^before he could attain 
the eminence upon which he already stood. Great efforts 
are, however, still to be made, that he may preserve his 
position; but, habituated to labor, to combat, and to over- 
come his passions are in his keeping; there is more need 
of vigilance than of effort; but there must be no relaxa- 
tion on the part of him who guards so wily and so power- 
ful a foe as strong natural propensities, subdued indeed and 


restrained, but yet vigorous, powerful, and seductive. One 
day's negligence may render unavailing all the achievements 
of years. 

What a lesson, my friends, is this for the youth of our 
country! What an admonition for parents! Why have we 
not amongst us more men bearing this true stamp of the 
nobility of virtue? Because the child is too fond of 
pleasure, too impatient of restraint; because the parent has 
false notions of glorious independence, and fondly imagines 
that lost virtue may be easily restored; because a weak 
and miscalculating fondness persuades itself that the bridle 
which restrains from, licentiousness destroys that strength 
which it but directs to a useful and a pleasing course. 
How greatly preferable is the noble animal, that, trained to 
the hand, patiently submits to its directions, to the untamed 
beast that menaces ruin to every one who approaches! The 
one smells the battle at a distance, and proudly lifts his 
head, whilst he impatiently paws the ground; yet he rests 
in his place, prepared but steady. He hears the note of 
preparation in the trumpet's blast, and he now looks for 
the onset. At the signal, he bears his rider in the midst 
of his companions, in safety and in victory, over the ruins 
of the broken host. He holds back when he is checked; 
he returns, fatigued indeed, but not exhausted; he is nour- 
ished and cared for; he is grateful to his attendants, and, 
before the rising sun, he neighs to prove his desire for the 
pursuit of the succeeding day. Woe to him who would 
enter into battle with the other! Should he not be shaken 
from his seat, or be carried wildly from the face of the 
array he is separated from his troop he is borne power- 
less into the thick of his enemies, where he soon falls, the 
bewildered victim of his own rashness, and to the fury of 
those who surround him. His corpse is found under the 
carcass of his worst enemy. Even in death, the cause of 
his ruin is manifest to that friend who would seek, under 
shade of twilight, to render the last rites to the body of 
his associate. What a picture of the folly of a parent, 


and of the ruin of a child! Call you this glorious inde- 
pendence ? 

In truth, we have now only to contemplate the character 
thus formed, developing itself as circumstances permit, and 
becoming more fixed and better matured by experience. 

Washington's first public mission was not only of a 
'highly confidential but of an extremely perilous nature. 
The French had crossed the Northern Lakes, which had 
been assumed by Great Britain as the natural boundary 
between their respective colonies. It was suspected that 
they sought to establish themselves upon the Ohio. A 
messenger had been sent from Virginia, in the character 
of an Indian trader, to visit the friendly tribes in that 
quarter, and to procure accurate intelligence of their dispo- 
sition and of the French advances. He had returned 
without having fully accomplished the object for which he 
was employed, but bringing sufficient information to prove 
that the fears expressed by the British cabinet to the 
.Governor of Virginia were well founded, and that France 
was disposed to establish posts within the territory claimed 
by England. The governor had been furnished with cannon 
and ammunition, to repel, if necessary, by force, any effort 
of this description. Not only was it ascertained that troops 
had descended from Canada, but it was found that others 
had ascended from New Orleans, and that it was contem- 
plated to lock up the British within a line of posts ex- 
tending from the lakes, by the Ohio and Mississippi, so 
as to secure at least all the territory west of this line for 
the crown of France. The Governor and Council of Vir- 
ginia resolved, that it would be proper, as both nations 
were at peace, to send an officer to the French commander, 
with a request to know by what authority he had advanced, 
and also to learn what was his object. Major Washington 
was selected. 

"He was directed to proceed without delay to the Ohio 
river, convene some of the Indian chiefs at a place called 
Logstown, make known to them the objects of his visit, 


and, after ascertaining where the French were stationed, to 
request an escort of warriors to be his guides and safe- 
guard the rest of the journey. When arrived at the 
principal French post, he was to present his credentials and 
a letter from the Governor of Virginia to the commandant, 
and in the name of his Brittannic majesty to demand an 
answer. He was furthermore to inquire diligently, and by 
cautious means, into the number of the French troops that 
had crossed the lakes, the reinforcements expected from 
Canada, how many forts they had erected, and at what 
places, how they were garrisoned and appointed, and their 
distances from each other, and, in short, to procure all the 
intelligence possible respecting the condition and objects of 
the intruders. 

"Fortified with written instructions to this effect, with 
credentials and a passport, to which the great seal of the 
colony was affixed, he departed from Williamsburg, the seat 
of government in Virginia, on November 31, 1753. The 
distance before him to the extreme point of his destination, 
by the route he would pursue, was about five hundred and 
sixty miles, in great part over lofty and rugged mountains, 
and more than half of the way through the heart of a 
wilderness, where no traces of civilization as yet appeared." 

With a party of seven companions he set forward, and 
by climbing, scrambling, fording and swimming, as well as 
by riding, he reached the Monongahela and Alleghany, at 
the point where their junction forms the Ohio. His eye 
soon discerned the peculiar advantages consequent upon the 
erection of a fort at this spot. It was from the erection 
of this work the colonists were driven in the subsequent 
year; it was completed by the French, and called after the 
name of their Canadian governor, Du Q,uesne ; subsequently 
retaken by Washington, when it was called Fort Pitt, and 
at this day has risen to the important rank of an indus- 
trious city, Pittsburg. About twenty miles below this fork 
he called together some Indian chiefs, with whom he entered 
into friendly relations, and formed the acquaintance of 


Tanacharison, or the half-king, who was subsequently his- 
ally and companion. He thence proceeded to the French, 
post, and was told by the commander, M. de St. Pierre, 
in a respectful but firm tone, that his troops could not 
retire, for he had received orders to occupy the place ; 
that his duty was obedience, and that discussion could be 
had only with those who commanded him. He treated the 
British envoy with hospitality, and gave him supplies upon 
his departure; yet, by some means, Major Washington found 
many impediments to his return, a considerable part of 
which he had to make on foot with but one companion > 
carrying on his back his knapsack, containing some papers 
and his food, with a gun in hand, amidst falling snow and 
over thickening ice, and having only by great ingenuity 
and exertion escaped the treachery of some Indians. 

Upon his return he delivered the answer of the French 
commander, and placed his own journal in the hands of 
the governor ; and it was clearly ascertained that a case 
had arisen in which force must be repelled by force. This 
journal was not only printed in Virginia, but also by the 
directions of the English government it was published in 
Europe, and was highly commended in each place. Major 
Washington was appointed to command a force of two- 
hundred men, who were to proceed to the Ohio and erect 
a fort at the spot which he had indicated. Captain 
Trent was appointed to command one of the companies. 
He was directed to go forward and raise his company by 
enlisting the traders accustomed to the Indians and the 
woods ; to proceed to the fork of the Ohio, and commence 
the fort. Washington, at Alexandria, waited to assemble 
the remainder of the troops, to organize them, to collect 
supplies and to send them forward, together w r ith the cannon 
to be mounted in the fort. 

The Legislature of Virginia, upon its meeting, increased 
the force to six companies, under the command of Colonel 
Fry, making Washington lieutenant-colonel. The British 
government also authorized the governor of Virginia to call 


upon New York for two companies of continental troops 
and upon South Carolina for one. The officers of such 
companies held their commissions, not from the colonial 
government, but from the crown, which caused them to 
claim an exemption from the authority of the colonial offi- 
cers, and to be regarded more in the light of an allied 
or auxiliary force, than as men to be commanded. On the 
20th of April, 1754, Col. Washington arrived at Will's 
Creek, which was then the border of civilization, with 
three companies under his command. Here he learned that 
Captain Trent's men had been summoned, by an immensely 
superior French force, to capitulate and retire from the 
fort which they were erecting. The French having pos- 
sessed themselves of it, in compliment to their governor 
called it Fort Du Quesne. Col. Fry had not arrived Wash- 
ington's own force was very small a wilderness was before 
him, with an opposing army far more numerous, well 
organized, and already habituated to the country, ready to 
fall upon him, he knew not at what moment or in what 
place. He held a council of war and determined to pro- 
ceed to the erection of a fort upon another spot on the 
Monongahela. Thus, at all events, would his men be em- 
ployed, the bane of idleness be removed, and by the con- 
structions necessary for their advance, a road would be opened 
for those who would follow, whilst they themselves would 
be at least approaching to the attainment of their object. 
He sent expresses to the governors of Virginia, Maryland, 
and Pennsylvania, advising them of his situation, and request- 
ing reinforcements. 

As this was his first campaign, I shall dwell upon it; 
for here we shall perceive his qualities as a commander, 
as fully developed as will be necessary to exhibit his char- 
acter in that position. His determination to advance shows 
none of the rashness or impetuosity of the unthinking 
brave ; it was the result of deliberation and counsel, and 
for sufficient reasons. To retreat would have been a 
degrading abandonment of his duty, a betraying of the 


trust reposed in him; it would have stricken a panic into 
liis men, from which they could not be recovered; it would 
have given to the enemy confidence, time, and undisturbed 
possession ; and would have totally bewildered the colonial 
councils, whilst the Indians would have been gained over 
by the French. Did he remain where he was, nearly all 
these effects would have been equally the result; at all 
events, his troops would have been idle and discontented; 
they would have lost all confidence in him, and did they 
not desert him on the first failure of supplies, insubordi- 
nation and plunder would have left him despised and 
powerless, the butt of a mob, not the commander of sol- 
diers. As it was, from the neglect of the commissaries, 
provisions failed upon their march. Besides the perplexity 
of this misfortune, he had to overcome the difficulties of 
exploring his way and of constructing his road. He was, 
on those occasions, himself the pioneer, who, with a few 
attendants, penetrated the recesses of the forest, to learn 
how a swamp might be avoided ; or he encountered, in a 
canoe or on a raft, the perils of an unexplored river, to 
discover its obstructions or its falls, to ascertain where it 
was fordable, or where a bridge could be placed. What 
patience, ingenuity, judgment, and perseverance was neces- 
sary for such an expedition! This was the school to which 
Providence led him, that he might be taught for a period 
of equal difficulties upon a more extended scale and for a 
nobler purpose. Not to secure for one monarch rather than 
for another the nominal and useless sovereignty over the 
wild hunting grounds, which as Tanacharison, speaking of 
the French and English, told both parties, "the Great Being 
above allowed to be the residence for him and his people," but 
to redeem the people of a continent from the dictation of a 
distant island, and casting off the bands with which it was 
sought to confine them, leave them to exercise those facul- 
ties and those powers with which God had endowed them, 
with that freedom which is the right of every nation, and 



by whose proper use she can better secure her happiness, 
than she can by any foreign direction. 

As he advanced towards the Monongahela, he received 
notice from Tanacharison that the French had sent a party 
out from their fort, who had determined "to strike the Eng- 
lish" should they be met with. Soon afterwards he received 
another message that the French was advanced to within 
fifteen miles of him. Knowing his situation, he thought it 
better to choose his field, and accordingly drew his little 
force to a place called the Great Meadows ; and having 
cleared it as well as circumstances would allow, he threw 
up an entrenchment, nearly protected on three sides by a 
stream, and sufficiently distant from the wood to require 
that an assailant should show his men upon the open 
ground. He sent out scouts mounted on his wagon horses 
to reconnoitre ; but they returned without having made any 
discovery. His camp was, however, alarmed during the 
night; his sentinels fired, and his men were kept under 
arms till morning. A respectable settler then came in with 
information that a French detachment of fifty men had been 
at his place on the previous day, and that he had dis- 
covered their tracks within five miles of the camp. In the 
early part of the next night another express arrived from 
the Indian, who was within about six miles of the Great 
Meadows with his people, stating that the French were in 
his vicinity, and that he had seen two tracks. Within an 
hour after this arrival, Washington, at the head of forty 
men, left the camp in the midst of torrents of rain, on 
one of the darkest nights that could be imagined. The 
soldiers strayed from the path, frequently lost their way, 
climbed over fallen trees and opposing rocks, and stumbled 
over each other; *and it took them as many hours to reach 
the Indian station, as they had miles to pass over. It was 
nearly sunrise when they arrived. 

The occurrence of this day was in many ways remarka- 
ble. It was a battle between the troops of two nations 
actually at peace. The force engaged was small, but it 


was the commencement of a contest which deprived France 
of one of her most important colonies, after the vicissitudes 
of nearly seven years of war. It was the military essay 
of a young man who was destined to lead the armies of half 
u continent, struggling for that freedom which it was to 
achieve, against the efforts of that nation on whose behalf 
he was now himself engaged; but that freedom was not 
to be obtained without the aid of that country against 
which he was then armed. Such are the vicissitudes of 
human affairs. But this was also, for the character of 
Washington, an event, the proper understanding of whose 
circumstances is of peculiar importance. It is the only bat- 
tle in which he was engaged which even an enemy ven- 
tured to point out as unjustifiable carnage. 

It was stated in Europe that M. de Jumonville, who 
commanded, was not an officer sent for a hostile purpose, 
but an ambassador sent on an errand of a peaceful char- 
acter; that a rash, impetuous, and inexperienced youth wan- 
tonly assailed and cruelly murdered the envoy and his 

Let us examine the case. This statement was made in 
Europe by the diplomatists of France, at a moment when 
they were engaged with those of England, apparently seeking 
to adjust their differences, but really, it is believed, seeking 
a colorable pretext for war. The French had made their 
preparations already in America to surround the British 
colonies, and to confine them, as nearly as they could, from 
extending to the west. It was, according to the rules of 
what is called diplomacy, the business of the French agents 
to create the impression that England had given occasion 
for their hostile movements, and this occurrence furnished 
the pretext they sought. 1 

Let us now see Washington's position. Fully aware of 
the objects of the French, from his previous interview, 

i No excuses can absolve the British government from the crime of their iniqui- 
tous invasion cf the rights of France, whose sons had purchased, by their toil and 
blood, the territory of the Mississippi valley. 


when he had gone, unaccompanied by a retinue of soldiers, 
to deliver a letter and to hold a discussion with the prin- 
cipal officer of the force that was making descents and 
settlements within what the English regarded as their lands, 
he not only found his remonstrances useless, but he saw 
the aggressions extended. Commissioned and sent out by 
his own government, with an armed force, to repel this 
invasion and to protect its limits, he finds a portion of 
his command dispossessed of a fort which they had been 
erecting, his troops threatened with violence if they did not 
yield. He finds, by the report of his scouts, that an armed 
baud - was advancing still farther into his country that 
they were hovering about his camp. He is informed by 
his Indian allies, .that their avowed object is to attack the 
English. His camp is alarmed. By whom? It is true 
that a few of, his men had deserted, but surely deserters 
are not found lurking round the spot where capture and 
punishment would be the probable result. He consults 
Tanacharison. He discovers that this armed band has with- 
drawn from the common road, which peaceful envoys travel, 
and lay in a concealed and well-protected retreat, like 
invaders, and had sent scouts to observe the British posi- 
tion. This fact was ascertained by the discovery of their 
tracks. Messengers had also been sent back by them to 
the main body of their force, clearly to carry information, 
probably to call for an advance of larger numbers. Is he 
to await the arrival of an army superior in force, and 
permit the object which he had been selected to accom- 
plish, to be lost? Is he to permit himself to be trifled 
with and overreached ? His ally, who had means of infor- 
mation, assures him that their intention is hostile. There 
is but one course open for him. He plans the mode of 
attack, should it be necessary, yet he leaves an opportunity 
to the others to see and to explain. He advances against 
the position of the armed invaders. They are discovered; 
lie is himself at the head of his little detachment; he 
is seen. The ambassador, of course, will now show his 


symbol of friendship will demand protection, and seek to 
attain the end of his mission. Washington advances, and he 
is received, not with the etiquette of an envoy, but with 
the warning of loaded muskets. He is prepared, and the 
return is quickly made. The whole effort of the assailants, 
for such are they to whom he is opposed, is directed 
against the Virginians ; the Indian is left unassailed. If 
the commander and ten of his soldiers have lost their lives 
before the surviving twenty-two have called for quarter, they 
have fallen victims either to their duty, if they were 
enemies, or to their folly, if they were friends. It is true, 
that in the pocket of the commander there was found a 
dictatorial summons to the English commander, leaving him 
the only option of retiring peaceably east of the Allegha- 
nies, or of being compelled by force to do so. Some of 
the ambassador's officers asserted, when they were prisoners, 
that they had never seen the document, and they censured 
its style. However, they said many other things, which 
Washington declared not to be facts. The captured men 
were sent prisoners to Governor Dinwiddie, who approved 
of Washington's conduct. 

He wrote to the Governor that he was certain of being 
attacked by a superior force, as soon as the French should 
learn what had occurred ; that, in his present situation he 
would be unable to hold his ground against them. He 
could only assure him that he would not be taken by 
surprise ; and would not retreat or surrender whilst the 
slightest prospect existed of being able to make a useful 
or an honorable resistance. The succors he received were 
small ; the want of supplies, especially of provisions, was 
very trying. The distinctions in pay and in rank between 
the officers of the colony and those of the crown were 
unfortunate and paralyzing, and would have produced worse 
consequences but for the good sense, the moderation, and 
kindly feeling that existed between Colonel Washington and 
Captain Mackay, w r ho commanded, under a royal commis- 
sion, the only contingent from another State that took the 


field. South Carolina, always ready to take her place in 
the day of peril and at the post of honor, sent her hun- 
dred men to share the sufferings and the dangers of this 
campaign which terminated by the capitulation of the 
colonial troops to a superior force of the French, who, 
during nine hours, had endeavored, on the 3d of July, to 
get possession of Fort Necessity; for so was this hastily 
erected fortification on the Great Meadows called, and on 
the next day its defenders marched out, with the honors of 
war, to return home. The commander and his soldiers, 
besides the consciousness of having done their duty, had 
also the thanks of the council, the burgesses and the 
public. The prudence, the address, the courage, the patience, 
firmness, and love of discipline of Washington, were uni- 
versally acknowledged with well-merited eulogy. 

The blunders and the difficulties arising from the 
arrangements of rank, to which I have before alluded, 
caused Washington to decline accepting a commission which 
was offered him by Governor Sharpe, of Maryland, who 
had been lately appointed by the king of England com- 
mander-in-chief of the forces against the French. In de- 
clining the offer, he added: "I shall have the consolation 
of knowing that I have opened the way, when the small- 
ness of our numbers exposed us to the attacks of a 
superior enemy; and that I have had the thanks of my 
country for the services I have rendered." 

The agency of this man, as he advanced in life, upon 
a more extended field, in more elevated stations, and 
amongst persons of more importance, necessarily attracts 
more attention, and surrounds him with a brighter halo of 
glory ; but the individual is himself unchanged. From the 
first moment to the last, it is George Washington! Hence 
it is not my intention to trespass upon your patience by 
a recital of facts, with which you are well acquainted, nor 
by leading you through those revolutionary fields whose 
names are as familiar to your mouths and to your ears as 
household words. 


You know that he accepted the invitation of the brave 
but unfortunate Braddock, to be one of his military family. 
I need not inform you of its results. How Washington 
escaped, on that day which witnessed the almost total ruin 
of a fine army, I think is attributable only to a special 
Providence. When the two aids of the general were dis- 
abled he alone was engaged in the duty of distributing 
the orders. He is seen everywhere on horseback, in the 
hour of carnage, an object easily marked, and by no means 
unimportant. He wrote to his brother: a By the all-pow- 
erful dispensation of Providence, I have been protected 
beyond all human probability or expectation ; for I had 
four bullets through my coat, and two horses shot under 
me. Yet I escaped unhurt, although death was leveling 
my companions on every side of me." 

It is true, that in this action, though unexpectedly 
attacked, and his veteran European soldiers thrown into 
inextricable confusion, General Braddock and his officers 
behaved with the utmost courage, "and used every effort 
to rally the men, and bring them to order, but all in 
vain. In this state they continued nearly three hours, 
huddling together in confused bodies, firing irregularly, shoot- 
ing down their own officers and men, and doing no per- 
ceptible harm to the enemy. The Virginia provincials were 
the only troops who seemed to retain their senses, and they 
behaved with a bravery and resolution worthy of a better 
fate. They adopted the Indian mode, and fought each man 
for himself behind a tree. This was prohibited by the 
general, who endeavored to form his men into platoons and 
columns, as if they had been manceuvering on the plains of 
Flanders. Meantime the French and Indians, concealed in 
the ravines and behind trees, kept up a deadly and un- 
ceasing discharge of musketry, singling out their objects, 
taking deliberate aim, and producing a carnage almost un- 
paralleled in the annals of modern warfare. More than 
half of the whole army, which had crossed the river in so 
proud an array only three hours before, were killed or 


wounded. The general himself received a mortal wound, 
and many of his best officers fell by his side." 

"A report has been long current in Pennsylvania that 
Braddock was shot by one of his own men, founded on 
the declaration of a provincial soldier, who was in the 
action. There is another tradition, also worthy of notice, 
which rests on the authority of Dr. Craik, the intimate 
friend of Washington from his boyhood to his death, and 
who was with him at the battle of the Monongahela. 
Fifteen years after that event they traveled together on an 
expedition to the western country, with a party of woods- 
men, for the purpose of exploring wild lands. While near 
the junction of the Great Kanawha and Ohio rivers a 
company of Indians came to them with an interpreter, at 
the head of whom was an aged and venerable chief. This 
personage made known to them, by the interpreter, that 
hearing Colonel Washington was in that region, he had 
come a long way to visit him, adding, that during the 
battle of the Monongahela, he had singled him out as a 
conspicuous object, fired his rifle at him many times, and 
directed his young warriors to do the same, but to his 
utter astonishment, none of their balls took effect. He was 
then persuaded that the youthful hero was under the special 
guardianship of the Great Spirit, and ceased to fire at him 
any longer. He M'as now come to pay homage to the man 
who was the particular favorite of heaven, and who could 
never die in battle." 

It is thought that if Braddock had been attentive to the 
counsel of his Virginia aid, the result would have been 
different. Washington's sufferings, his services, and his suc- 
cess, when subsequently called from his retirement by his 
country, to assume the command of the Virginia forces, 
and to aid General Forbes, served still further, during 
three years, to manifest his good qualities, and to prepare 
him better for the great work which he was destined, at 
a future day, to achieve. In January, 1759, after having 
resigned his commission, when lie had made his troops 


efficient, and had been crowned with success in his enter- 
prise, he prepared to spend the remainder of his days in, 
private life. Upon his marriage he received a great acces- 
sion to his property, besides being united to a companion 
whose affection for him and whose domestic virtues exceeded 
even the meed of reputation which she had obtained for 
more brilliant though less valuable qualities. Forty years 
of vicissitudes always showed their mutual regards, not, 
perhaps, altogether unchanged, but if altered, they were 
increasing in respect and affection. Whenever his keen 
sense of public duty allowed him a short respite from his 
laborious employments, he sought, with renovated eagerness, 
the cheerful society of his home and the pleasing occupa- 
tion of superintending his domestic concerns. This proved 
his unambitious disposition and the excellence of his family 
circle. Firm and sufficiently forward, when the good of 
his conntry required it, he was as ready to face her foes 
in the field as he was to expostulate with her governors 
when he had to point out their oversight or neglect, as it 
was frequently necessary, in vindicating what was due to 
his officers and soldiers, and in requiring what was de- 
manded by his circumstances to insure the attainment of the 
public safety. He was always ready to sacrifice his own 
private claims, t forego what w r ere his just recompenses, 
and to shun public honors. Whilst he was engaged in the 
field at the close of his services, he was . elected by the 
county of Frederick to a seat in the House of Burgesses of 
Virginia. Upon his return, whilst attending the session in 
his place, Mr. Robinson, the speaker, by direction of the 
assembly, returned thanks to the young hero; but unused 
to such a position, and confounded at the sound of his 
eulogy, he stood unable to reply until the speaker reliev- 
ing him by a still higher compliment, ingeniously added, 
from the inspiration of truth : " Sit down, Mr. Washington ; 
your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the 
power of any language that I possess." 

He was now twenty-seven years of age, and with the 


exception of his attendance as a legislator at the sessions 
of the Assembly, he kept, as far as possible, secluded from 
public life; occupied at Mount Yernon in the improve- 
ment of agriculture, the exercise of a generous hospitality, 
and finding relaxation in the intercourse with his neighbors 
and his loved relatives, with respectable and polished 
strangers whom his early fame had attracted to visit at his 
mansion. His chief enjoyment was in the domestic circle, 
and an occasional indulgence in the sports of the field ; 
the excitement, the labor, and the exposure of which had 
been rendered in a great measure necessary by his previ- 
ous occupations and habits from his very boyish days. Nor 
could he refuse the benefit of his judgment and the weight 
of his integrity to the solicitations of many who preferred 
in their difficulties being guided by his advice and de- 
cisions, to litigating their claims before public tribunals. 

I believe we may safely say, that few members of society 
are more useful than an independent and upright country 
gentleman, who is thus the protector of his family, the 
cultivator of the soil, the model of his neighbors for good 
conduct, the harbinger of peace in contentions, the patri- 
arch, whose feelings of kindly interest are engaged for the 
welfare of his servants, and who, from a sense of duty, 
disinterestedly and without any selfish projects or party 
techemes, devotes a due share of his time and of his atten- 
tion, in proper place, to the public business of the State. 
Such was the manner in which twelve or fourteen years 
of his life now passed away. Such is the way in which 
he desired it should continue to its termination. 

It was, however, not so decreed in the order of Provi- 
dence. Great Britain undertook to impose taxes without 
their own consent upon the colonies. The amount was im- 
material the principle was everything. Admit that it may 
be done to the amount of one cent in the year, what is 
to restrain the imposition? From the first moment, Wash- 
ington saw what must be the result if the effort was con- 
tinued, and he declared it as plainly as he saw it; when 


that declaration was necessary it might be useful. He could 
scarcely persuade himself that Great Britain would persist. 
He expressed his hopes that she would not ; and cherished, 
as far as he could, that expectation in the bosom of his 
friends. He knew well that resistance must end in revo- 
lution; revolution in civil war. He abhorred the desola- 
tion of his country, the havoc of his people, the thousand 
evils which accompany and succeed the bloody strife. He 
,had seen the pomp and circumstance of war. Never did 
he behold a more glorious and splendid pageant than when 
Braddock's men deployed in w r ell-set order, and moved 
forward in brilliant uniform, with shining arms glittering 
in a radiant sun, on the banks of the Monongahela. But 
before that sun was set, their gory limbs, their shattered 
arms, their mutilated bodies lay in terrible confusion on 
that fatal plain ; the moans of the dying and the wailings 
of the wounded were mingled with the blasphemy of the 
raving and the lamentations and the oaths of the despair- 
ing. It is the vain braggart who shuns the field where 
the contest for his country's rights is to try man's prowess, 
who too frequently makes a vaporing semblance of a vir- 
tue which he has not ; it is often the coward who wan- 
tonly provokes brave men to those lists, of which he con- 
tinues to be only a spectator. But that man whose soul 
is ennobled by true heroism, possesses a heart as tender 
as it is firm; he is equally ready to soothe and protect 
a child as he is to oppose and smite a giant ; he avoids 
exciting the bloody fray, whilst honor and justice will per- 
mit its being declined ; but when the battle has become 
his duty, his arm is indeed nerved and elastic, his eye is 
keen and discerning, he assails the haughty, but he lifts 
the suppliant, and he consoles the vanquished. A man who 
is truly brave is also truly generous ; he shudders at the 
ruin of battle, he endeavors to avoid its necessities ; but that 
necessity once established, he unflinchingly performs his duty. 
It is not, however, in the bloody field that the work of 
desolation is most extensive or most afflicting. It is there, 


indeed, that the first blow is struck ; it is there the ruin 
commences. But though he who lies mangled and festering 
amidst the heap of victims that have been immolated to 
the Moloch of war, is now insensible to mortal grief or 
pain, not so the survivors. Separated as the iron soldier 
appears to be from everything that belongs to the affections 
of life and the ties of relationship, still he is a man, and 
bound to others with the most tender ligaments that twine 
around the heart. There lies one upon the field his blood 
still flows ; his wound indeed is mortal, but as yet all his 
soul is in him. Half elevated, he reclines upon the corpse 
of a comrade who shared in his toils, who partook of his 
confidence, who was charged, should he survive him, to 
bear the token of his affection to one far distant from that 
scene of carnage. "With an effort, he has succeeded in 
drawing that pledge from the bosom of his friend; and, 
whilst his arm rests upon his broken musket, what he 
meant to be a memorial for the wife of his youth, the 
partner of his affections, the mother of his children, is 
now for himself inseparably united with her image; it is 
grasped with a hold which even death will not relax, whilst 
his swollen and distended eye rests upon it. He heeds 
not the joyous shout, though it proclaims victory for his 
companions ; the wild tumult of flight is around him, but 
of this and of every other object on the field, save that one 
token, he is now regardless. His mind is far away, his recol- 
lection is of other years. His wife, his mother, his chil- 
dren, his cottage these are all present to his excited 
fancy. He seems for the moment to have some new, though 
melancholy, existence amongst them. The ebb becomes slow 
from his side ; that gasp is convulsive ; he awakes to a 
consciousness of his state ; a petition to his God ; an 
expression of contrition, of resignation, and of hope. His 
lips quiver as he prays for a blessing on those whom he 
leaves to the cold charity of a selfish world, as he dies 
upon what is called the field of glory. A grateful country 
decks the spot, indeed, with barren laurels, and the cold, 


cold shafts of affliction penetrate the hearts of those who 
lived in the expectation of his return. "Who will protect 
his orphans? Who will soothe the mother? "Who will sus- 
tain the widow? 

Washington had witnessed with aching heart many a 
scene of this description. Generously did he minister to 
many a family thus stripped in desolation ; and therefore 
he was not a man to rush thoughtlessly upon a course 
that he knew must entail such miseries upon his country. 
He felt deeply the wrongs which the British government 
was perpetrating; he was one of the first to determine that 
they must not be endured ; but he sought, by petition, by 
remonstrance, by expostulation, by non-importation, to try 
whether it was possible to avoid recourse to arms. Yet, 
whilst he sought to restrain the violence of his friends, he 
had calmly and deliberately resolved to act and to suffer, 
and, if necessary, to die in organized resistance, upon clearly 
ascertained principle, rather than submit to a tyranny whose 
oppressions would far exceed even the disasters of battle 
and of death. It is a melancholy choice when one is 
obliged to take one or the other, in this exhibition of 
alternatives. It is a great relief when any other mode 
leaves a probability or even a faint hope, that by patience, 
by exertion, by time, by moral influence, an amelioration 
may be obtained, and the horrors of war may bo averted. 
This hope was cherished this principle was the guiding 
star of the patriots of the Revolution ; and it was not 
until every ray of parliamentary sympathy was extinguished, 
and that the royal eye no longer beamed upon the peti- 
tions that were laid even at the footstool of the throne, 
that Washington found himself in the gloom of hopeless- 
ness, and that he yielded to the dire necessity of inflict- 
ing upon his country the evils of military contest. Still 
his soul recoiled from it; and fully six years before the 
Declaration of Independence, his sentiments were expressed 
to a friend with whom he consulted in the following terms : 

"At a time when our lordly masters in Great Britain 


will be satisfied with nothing less than the deprivation of 
American freedom, it seems highly necessary that some- 
thing should be done to avert the stroke, and maintain 
the liberty which we have derived from our ancestors. 
But the manner of doing it, to answer the purpose effectu- 
ally, is the point in question. 

" That no man should scruple or hesitate a moment to 
use arms in defence of so valuable a blessing, is clearly 
my opinion. Yet arms, I would beg leave to add, should 
be the last resource, the dernier ressort. We have already, 
it is said, proved the inefficacy of addresses to the throne 
and remonstrances to Parliament. How far, then, their 
attention to our rights and privileges may be awakened or 
alarmed, by starving their trade and manufactures, remains 
to be tried." 

Two other extracts from his correspondence, nearly five 
years later, will show the convictions of a mind that had 
long and maturely deliberated upon the subject. Writing 
to a friend who hesitated upon acceding to resolutions of 
a meeting in Fairfax county, at which Washington pre- 
sided, he says : 

" That I differ very widely from you in respect to the 
mode of obtaining a repeal of the acts so much and 
so justly complained of, I shall not hesitate to acknowl- 
edge ; and that this difference in opinion probably pro- 
ceeds from the different constructions we put upon the 
conduct and intention of the ministry, may also be true; 
but, as I see nothing, on the one hand, to induce a 
belief that the Parliament would embrace a favorable 
opportunity of repealing acts, which they go on with great 
rapidity to pass, in order to enforce their tyrannical system; 
and, on the other, I observe, or think I observe, that 
government is p.ursuing a regular plan at the expense 
of law and justice to overthrow our constitutional rights 
and liberties, how can I expect any redress from a 
measure which has been ineffectually tried already? For, 
sir, what is it we are contending against? Is it against 


paying the duty of three pence per pound on tea because 
burdensome? No, it is the right only we have all along 
disputed; and to this end we have already petitioned his 
majesty in as humble and dutiful a manner as subjects 
could do. Nay, more, we applied to the House of Lords 
and House of Commons in their different legislative capaci- 
ties, setting forth, that, as Englishmen, we could not be 
deprived of this essential and valuable part of our Con- 
stitution. If, then, as the fact really is, it is against the 
right of taxation that we now do and, as I said before, 
all along have contended, why should they suppose an ex- 
ertion of this power would be less obnoxious now than 
formerly? And what reason have we to believe that they 
would make a second attempt, whilst the same sentiments 
fill the breast of every American, if they did not intend 
to enforce it if possible? 

"In short, what further proofs are wanting to satisfy any 
one of the designs of the ministry, than their own acts, 
which are uniform and plainly tending to the same point, 
nay, if I mistake not, avowedly to fix the right of taxa- 
tion? What hope have we, then, from petitioning when they 
tell us that now or never is the time to fix the matter ? 
Shall we, after this, whine and cry for relief, when we have 
already tried it in vain ? Or shall we supinely sit and see 
one province after another fall a sacrifice to despotism ? 

" If I were in any doubt as to the right which the Par- 
liament of Great Britain had to tax us without our consent, 
I should most heartily coincide with you in opinion, that 
to petition, and to petition only, is the proper method to 
apply for relief; because we should then be asking a favor r 
and not claiming a right, which, by the law of nature and 
our Constitution, we are, in my opinion, indubitably entitled 
to. I should even think it criminal to go further than 
this, under such an idea ; but I have none such. I think 
the Parliament of Great Britain has no more right to put 
its hands into my pocket, without my consent, than I have 
to put my hands into yours ; and this being already urged 


to it in a firm but decent manner, by all the colonies, what 
reason is there to expect anything from its justice ? 

" Satisfied, then, that the acts of the British Parliament 
are no longer governed by the principles of justice, that 
they are trampling upon the valuable rights of Americans, 
confirmed to them by charter and by the Constitution they 
themselves boast of, and convinced, beyond the smallest 
doubt, that these measures are the result of deliberation, 
and attempted to be carried into execution by the hand of 
power, is it a time to trifle, or to risk our cause upon 
petitions, which with difficulty obtain access, and afterwards 
are thrown by with the utmost contempt? Or should we, 
because heretofore unsuspicious of design, and then un- 
willing to enter into disputes with the mother country, go 
on to bear more, and forbear to enumerate our just causes 
of complaint? For my own part, I shall not undertake 
to say where the line between Great Britain and the 
colonies should be drawn ; but I am Clearly of opinion 
that one ought to be drawn, and our rights clearly ascer- 
tained. I could wish, I own, that the dispute had been 
left to posterity to determine; but the crisis is arrived 
when we must assert our rights, or submit to every impo- 
sition that can be heaped upon us, till custom and use 
shall make us tame and abject slaves." 

This, in fact, embodies the whole principle of the 

Whilst attending a meeting of the first Congress, of 
which he was a member, he received a letter from a 
former companion-in-arms, who held a commission in an 
English regiment then stationed at Boston. The following 
is an extract from the answer which he sent : 

"These, sir, being certain consequences, which must 
naturally result from the late acts of Parliament relative 
to America in general, and the government of Massachusetts 
Bay in particular, is it to be wondered at, I repeat, that 
men, who wish to avert tho impending blow, should attempt 


to oppose it in its progress, or prepare for their defence 
if it cannot be averted? Surely I may be allowed to 
answer in the negative ; and again give me leave to add 
as my opinion, that more blood will be spilled on this 
occasion, if the ministers are determined to push matters 
to extremity, than history has ever yet furnished instances 
of in the annals of North America, and such a vital 
wound* will be given to the peace of this great country 
as time itself cannot cure or eradicate the remembrance of." 

He was also a member of the second Congress, which 
assembled on the 10th of May, 1775. Blood had been 
then shed at Lexington and at Concord; the Rubicon was 
passed, and though no formal declaration had yet been made, 
still the sword which smote the freemen of New England 
had severed the tie which bound that colony to the older 
land of freemen. An expression of John Adams indicated 
in a way too plain to be misunderstood, that, though her 
own sons were in the field, and had confidence in their 
commander, still she would sacrifice sectional pride to gen- 
eral advantage, and that in selecting the commander-in-chief 
of the continental forces, the name of a Southron, in whose 
prowess and prudence universal confidence was reposed, 
would be presented to the Congress. Washington, who had 
foreseen w r hat he desired to avoid, rose from his place and 
retired from the house, to leave their proceedings unembar- 
rassed by his presence. A day was fixed for entering into 
the selection ; and on opening the ballot-box, into which 
that baud of devoted patriots had cast their suffrages, not 
another name was found but that of George Washington. 
Next day he was found in his place in Congress, as a 
member from Virginia. When the president officially in- 
formed him of his appointment, he rose in his place and 
signified his acceptance. His words were few and appro- 
priate, but the following expressions show the unchanged 
features of his character : . 

"Lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavorable to 
my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentle- 



man in the room, that I this day declare, with the utmost 
sincerity, I do not think myself equal to the command I 
am honored with." 

Nor were these mere words of course. His confidential 
and affectionate letter to his wife shows that he only 
yielded to a sense of duty, and looked upon the trust as 
too great for his capacity. How providential that it was 
to him it Avas confided! 

You know the history of that war which followed. You 
have appreciated, as you ought, his prudence, his valor, his 
courage, his privations and his endurance. You know what 
materials he had to mould into an army: men, who, in 
general, bore devoted hearts, but who were unused to dis- 
cipline, and not always patient of restraint ; men whose 
unshod feet often marked their track with their blood upon 
the frozen road, and whose tattered garments in the cold 
of winter showed that they needed all the fervor of their 
zeal for freedom to keep them warm in its defence. And 
amongst the ranks of those born in the country many a 
brave foreigner shared in the toil of the battle and en- 
dured the privations of the camp. Washington could see 
no difference between them in the field, and he made no 
distinction between them in his heart. Lafayette, Montgom- 
ery, Hamilton, Steuben, De Kalb, Pulaski, Manning and 
Jasper, are no inglorious names upon the roll of heroes of 
the Revolutionary war. Brightly do they shine amidst that 
galaxy of sons of the soil from every State of the old 
thirteen, that clustered in so mighty a multitude around 
that calm, steady and glowing light that outshone them all, 
and yet seemed to add to their effulgence. Well did they 
redeem that noble pledge which was made by men of every 
religious denomination. It was released, indeed, with the 
loss of many a life, and with the ruin of many a noble 
fortune, but by the preservation of their sacred honor. 
With that honor they also preserved and improved their 
liberties, and unshackled industry from the bonds of 
colonial restriction. To the lovers of enterprise and of im- 


provement, and to those hardy children of labor who prize 
liberty, and are ready as they are able to defend it, they 
opened inviting passages to those western lands that have 
already received millions, and are capable of receiving mil- 
lions more, to make them teem with w 7 calth and be alive 
with population. But it is not my theme to enlarge upon 
what \vas endured in securing to us those advantages. 

The character of strategy pursued by Washington, as far 
as one so little skilled as I am can form an opinion on 
such a subject, appears to have been one of the most dif- 
ficult to execute, yet the best adapted to his circumstances, 
and, as it proved to be, most successful in the result. At 
the head of what may be called an unorganized mass 
rather than an army, and the parts of which this collec- 
tion was composed in a perpetual state of change, by reason 
of the short periods of enlistment without any well-regu- 
lated department of subsistence or of supply under a gen- 
eral administration which had, over thirteen confederated 
and scarcely formed republics, only that moral control which 
arises from common principles and common danger ; with 
many concealed enemies and hostile partisans in open and 
avowed connection with the enemy scattered through the 
land, the country itself but thinly settled; its settled por- 
tions open and badly provided for defence, intersected by 
large navigable bays and rivers, without any naval means 
of protection ; but on the other hand, his enemy, though 
in possession of the sea, at a distance from his resources, 
and though highly disciplined and well provided, yet unprac- 
ticed in partisan warfare and dreading an intricate country, 
"Washington found it to be his duty to turn his whole 
attention towards the establishment and the maintenance of 
discipline. For this purpose he had not only to exert his 
authority with great discretion and forbearance towards those 
under his command, but to use all his influence with 
the several governments, to induce them to correct their 
sytsem, to supply their deficiencies, to make pecuniary sacri- 
fices, and to sustain his efforts. This was the more diffi- 


cult, as, even at such a moment, they indulged to a mis- 
chievous extent a jealousy, whose theory was just, but whose 
application at such a moment was unreasonable. They 
wished to give to the commander as little power as pos- 
sible, because they dreaded a military despotism ; and thus 
they sent him, as Sheridan expressed himself upon another 
occasion, with half a shield and a broken sword, to pro- 
tect them from their well-armed enemies, lest if the buckler 
were entire and the sword perfect, he might be tempted in 
the heyday of victory to smite his employers. 

It was not only in establishing discipline that his exer- 
tions were required. No man loved his soldiers better than 
he did, and his letters show the manner in which his 
soul was wounded at the sufferings they had to undergo 
for the want of the most ordinary necessaries. Yet, with 
this bitter feeling, was he obliged, as he calls it himself, 
to play the hypocrite with them ; to impress on their 
minds the obligation of cheerfully enduring everything for 
the great cause in which they were engaged. But whilst 
he thus encouraged them to unite with himself in suffer- 
ing, he earnestly, though not always successfully, appealed 
to those who ought to provide for those men who were 
the only bulwark between them and vassalage. 

His was not an ambition of glory. He sacrificed no 
masses of human beings in brilliant charges, that he might 
gather laurels from the spot enriched by their gore ; or 
that he might indite despatches filled with periods rounded 
by the swollen phrases of destruction. He weighed the 
value of every life entrusted to his discretion, .and would 
shudder at the useless exposure of even one. This course 
was dictated by prudence as well as by humanity and 
justice. By a Fabian policy his enemy would be harrassed 
and worn out, and his supplies would be more rapidly 
consumed than they could be increased ; whilst the Amer- 
ican forces would be improving in discipline, accustomed 
to action, confident in themselves, and preserved for those 
occasions when they could be usefully brought into battle. 


But when an opportunity presented itself, lie made no 
calculation of what it was necessary to sacrifice, whether of 
repose or of life, to achieve what it would be ruinous or 
impolitic to forego ; though even on such occasions every 
precaution was taken, not only to insure success, but to 
obtain it with as little sacrifice of life as possible. Stony 
Point, Trenton, and Yorktown are striking instances of this 

His aifection for his men caused him to feel keenly for 
those whom the enemy held as prisoners. At first the 
British officers undertook to treat them as rebels ; indignity, 
harshness, and severe confinement were inflicted, and it 
was said that these endurances would be followed by an 
ignominious death. In one instance, the British prisoners 
were marked out by him as victims for retaliation ; they 
were on their march under an escort to the place of con- 
finement, when they were overtaken by an express, who 
announced that General Washington could not permit him- 
self to do what even the usages of war had sanctioned ; 
that he could not punish the innocent for the guilty, and 
that he had revoked his order. He appealed to the nobler 
principles of the British commander, and frequently suc- 
ceeded; but his anxiety and his exertions on this score 
were unceasing and laborious. Never was his kindly feel- 
ing better manifested than when, in order to procure a 
mitigation of the suffering of General Lee, who had fallen 
into the hands of the British, and whom they chose to 
regard and to treat as a deserter, the Congress decreed 
that Col. Campbell, who was a prisoner in Massachusetts, 
and five Hessian field officers at Trenton, should be sub- 
jected to precisely the same treatment as General Lee ; he 
wrote to the president of Congress : 

"In point of policy, under the present situation of our 
affairs, this doctrine cannot be supported. The balance of 
prisoners is greatly against us, and a general regard to the 
happiness of the whole should mark our conduct. Can we 
imagine that our enemies will not mete the same punish- 


ments, the same indignities, the same cruelties to those 
belonging to us, in their possession, that we impose 'on 
theirs in our power? Why should we suppose them to 
possess more humanity than we have ourselves ? Or why 
should an ineffectual attempt to relieve the distresses of 
one brave, unfortunate man involve many more in the same 
calamities? However disagreeable the fact may be, the enemy 
at this time have in their power and subject to their call 
near three hundred officers belonging to the army of the 
United States. In this number there are some of high rank, 
and most of them are men of bravery and merit. The quota 
of theirs in our hands bears no proportion, being not more 
than fifty at most. Under these circumstances, we should 
certainly do no act to draw upon the gentlemen belonging 
to us, and who have already suffered a long captivity, 
greater punishments than they have experienced and now 
experience. If we should, what will their feelings be, and 
those of their numerous and extensive connections? Suppose 
the treatment prescribed for the Hessians should be pursued, 
will it not establish what the enemy have been aiming to 
effect by every artifice and the grossest misrepresentations? 
I mean an opinion of our enmity towards them, and of 
the cruel conduct they experience when they fall into our 
hands, a prejudice which we on our parts have heretofore 
thought it politic to suppress and to root out by every act 
of lenity and kindness? It certainly will. The Hessians 
would hear of the punishment with all the circumstances of 
heightened exaggeration, would feel the injury, without inves- 
tigating the cause, or reasoning upon the justice or neces- 
sity of it. The mischiefs which may and must inevitably 
flow from the execution of the resolves appear to be end- 
less and innumerable." 

What, then, must have been his feelings when a stern 
sense of duty compelled him to permit the full execution 
of the sentence of an ignominious death upon the unfortu- 
nate Andre ? This is one of those melancholy instances 
where a man deserving of a better fate is, by the inscru- 


table laws of Providence, so involved in the meshes of dif- 
ficulty, that it becomes impossible to extricate him ; and it 
is not only the eye of pity which weeps, but every noble 
and manly heart bleeds whilst the blow is struck, which, 
it is acknowedged, the sternness of justice cannot here be 
prevented from inflicting. Still, after the lapse of more 
than half a century, the feeling exits, which will, perhaps, 
always continue strong; regret that it was not Arnold who 
met a well-deserved fate from the hand of the executioner. 

Deeply as Washington felt for the privations and wants 
of his soldiers, he was, however, careful to repress insubor- 
dination. Witness the disbanding a large portion of the 
Pennsylvania line in the spring of 1781, which, though hav- 
ing cause of complaint, yet took an irregular and most per- 
nicious mode of seeking for redress. Still these men, in the 
midst of their misery, could not be made traitors by the 
allurements of the British general. They gave up to trial 
and to execution the emissaries who had the hardihood to 
enter upon their seduction ; and though worn down by toil 
and privation, they declared that they scorned to be Arnolds. 
The contagion of insubordination, however, had spread from 
them to the troops of New Jersey; but Washington was 
prepared. The mutineers were taken by surprise, compelled 
to parade without arms, two of their ring-leaders were tried 
by a field court-martial, condemned, and shot; and the 
spirit of sedition having been thus laid, the remainder 
made an unconditional submission and promise of obedience. 

The exquisite tact which he possessed was exhibited, 
together with his spirit of moderation and respect for the 
feelings of his brothers-in-arms, at the surrender of York- 
town. He had with him General Lincoln, who, in deliver- 
ing up this our city to the British after a brave resistance, 
had the mortification of being denied the full honors of 
war at its evacuation. In place, then, of appearing at the 
head of the united forces of America and France, with 
the air of a conqueror, to wear the trophies well won by 
his valor, Washington sacrificed this feeling to one more 


noble and more exquisite, but to attain whose gratification 
is the privilege of few indeed. Lincoln had faithfully dis- 
charged his duty, and well merited the recompense which 
he on this occasion received. The British general, Lord 
Cornwallis, desired to stipulate for his garrison, that it 
should march out with all the honors of war and the cus- 
tomary privileges for its officers. Washington would grant 
only the same that had been allowed by the British gen- 
eral to the garrison of Charleston; and stationed Lincoln in 
an open space between the respective staffs of the French 
and the American armies to receive, in their view, the 
surrender of the British leader with exactly the same for- 
malities that had been observed when he made his own 

Need I undertake to show that his ambition was his 
country's happiness, and not his own personal elevation? 
Advert to the proposal which was made to him at New- 
burg, where an army appeared but to wait his beck, to 
protect him in assuming a sceptre and a crown. His reproof 
contained none of that language of affectation which shows 
that a refusal is made only because the object appears to 
be unattainable, or for the purpose of having additional 
entreaty used to overcome the seeming reluctance of ardent 

He dearly loved and greatly esteemed the valuable men 
who shared in his toils and dangers. His big heart dis- 
tended with unusual emotions, when, on the 4th of Decem- 
ber, 1783, he entered the room in New York to bid a 
final adieu to the principal officers, his companions-in-arms. 
The tear flowed on each manly cheek; he grasped firmly 
in succession those hands that had sustained, together with 
him, their country's cause. The embrace was that of gen- 
erous soldiers and firm friends ; not a word was spoken. 
They followed him in mute procession to his barge. Being 
seated in it for an instant, he rose ; and lifting his hat, 
he waved it ; every head on shore was uncovered ; the 
splashing of the oar and its measured stroke alone broke 


the silence of the tender, the respectful, the memorable 
separation of those men, who, in the face of death, had 
united to secure the independence of our country. 

It was on the 23d of that month he presented himself 
before the Congress of Annapolis ; and at the close of an 
appropriate address, said : * Having now finished the work 
assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action; and 
bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under 
whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my com- 
mission and take my leave of all the employments of public 
life." He placed that document in the hands of the presi- 
dent and withdrew, as he fondly hoped, to repair the rav- 
ages which his property must have suffered, and to repose 
in the bosom of his family after the toils of such a tem- 
pestuous absence. It is unnecessary to inform you that he 
would receive no pecuniary recompense ; and here is a copy 
of the settlement of his public accounts. How he enjoyed 
and sought for the solace of private life is expressed in 
his own language to Lafayette : 

" I am become a private citizen on the banks of the 
Potomac ; under the shadow of my own vine and fig-tree, 
free from the bustle of a camp and the busy scenes of 
public life, I am solacing myself with those tranquil enjoy- 
ments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit of fame 
the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless nights 
are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his- 
own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe 
was insufficient for us all and the courtier, who is always 
watching the countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching- 
a gracious smile, can have very little conception. I have 
not only retired from all public employments, but I am 
retiring within myself, and shall be able to view the soli- 
tary walk and tread the paths of private life with a heart- 
felt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am determined to be 
pleased with all ; and this, my dear friend, being the order 
of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, 
until I sleep with my fathers." 


To General Knox he wrote : 

"I am just beginning to experience that ease and free- 
dom from public cares which, however desirable, takes some 
time to realize ; for, strange as it may seem, it is never- 
theless true, that it was not till lately I could get the 
better of my usual custom of ruminating, as soon as I 
-waked in the morning, on the business of the ensuing day; 
and of my surprise at finding, after revolving many things 
in my mind, that I was no longer a public man, nor had 
anything to do with public transactions. I feel now, how- 
ever, as I conceive a wearied traveler must do, who, after 
treading many a painful step with a heavy burden on his 
shoulders, is eased of the latter, having reached the haven 
to which all the former were directed; and from his house- 
top is looking back and tracing with an eager eye the 
meanders by which he escaped the quicksands and mires 
which lay in his way, and into which none but the all- 
powerful Guide and Dispenser of human events could have 
prevented his falling." 

A few years were sufficient to exhibit the imperfection 
of the bond which held the confederation together in the 
period of their struggle. It became inevitable that one of 
two alternatives should be embraced. Either the Union 
should be dissolved, or a new bond must be devised by 
which the* States would be in truth and in fact united. 

The convention was named; against his wishes, George 
"Washington was at the head of the Virginia list. Yet was 
he by no means unprepared; because foreseeing the possi- 
bility of being obliged to sacrifice his inclinations to his 
duty, he had seriously studied and analyzed the principles 
of the Lycian, the Amphyctionic, the Achsean, the Helvetic, 
the Belgic, and the Germanic confederacies ; he had also 
deeply imbued his mind with sound political information, 
and closely observed the forms of governmental administra- 
tion. It is not matter of surprise that, by a unanimous 
vote, he was called upon to fill the chair in that assembly; 
for surely none was more worthy to occupy it. Neither 


could there be any hesitation when the States ratified the 
Constitution, and it became the expressed will of the people 
that it should be their form of government, as to who 
should undertake the task and have the glory of reducing 
its principles to practice. They had in the whole Union 
but one man who was, by universal acknowledgment, " first 
in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his country- 
men." And much as we complain of the injustice of the 
world, and rationally as we look for the recompense of 
virtue in a better state, still sometimes a mighty instance 
is exhibited of the good feelings and the sense of equity 
of a nation, where we may well use the words of the 
Trojan exile 

"En Priamiis! sunt bic etiam sua proemia laudi ! " 

He who ^-ould not stoop to be a king upon the sugges- 
tion of the soldiers, is raised by the acclamation of the 
people to be the first President of a free confederation, 
whose destinies are interwoven with the ruin or the resur- 
rection of a hemisphere. 

Assiduous in the discharge of duty, he encourages industry, 
he extends commerce, he regulates finance, he establishes 
credit, he organizes the departments, he selects and appoints 
the officers and superintends their conduct, he establishes 
the judiciary, he allays jealousies, he commences fortifica- 
tions, he arranges the army, he perfects treaties, he vindi- 
cates the national honor, he gives the example of a high 
morality, and thus occupied during eight years he sees his 
country eminent among the nations, and putting forth the 
germs of a rich prosperity. His work is now, indeed, 
accomplished ; but ere he retires from that station which 
raised him far above the thrones of emperors, he admon- 
ishes his children, for he is, indeed, the father of his 
country, of the difficulties by which they are surrounded ; 
and with the light of wisdom, the sagacity of experience, 
and the affection of patriotism, he teaches how these may 
be overcome or avoided. And, now, covered with the bene- 


dictions of his country and the admiration of the world, 
he retired again to private life. There, after a compara- 
tively brief respite from the toils of office, he bowed down 
his head in resignation to the summons which called him 
from this transitory state, and passed to another world, leav- 
ing after him, not the empty sound of what is called an 
immortal name, but the mighty monument of that freedom 
which we enjoy, and the glorious bulwark of that Consti- 
tution by which it is protected. 

Fellow-citizens, I can speak no eulogy of Washington* 
Though separated from this world, he lives in the centre 
of our hearts ; his name is a talisman of power, the watch- 
word of freedom, the emblem of patriotism, the shout of 
victory. It casts around us a halo of glory, for it con- 
tinues to receive the homage of mankind. There have been 
many sages, there have been many heroes, there have been 
many legislators there is but one Washington. 

Gentlemen of the Washington Light Infantry, you may 
be justly proud of the name under which you are enrolled. 
But let it be to you, also, a solemn admonition to fulfill 
your obligations. Our volunteer companies are not formed 
for the mere purpose of idle show, of vain parade, nor 
for empty pageantry. The natural and safest bulwark of 
our C9untry's freedom is a well-organized militia ; the chiv- 
alry of that militia should be found in the volunteer 
companies. Yours bears the most glorious name for an 
American citizen soldier. You should emulate the bravest, 
the best disciplined, the most patriotic of those marshaled 
in your country's service. You should endeavor, with the 
noble rivalship of a soldier's honor, but with a soldier's 
affection, to permit no other company to outstrip you in 
the accomplishments of the armed citizen. For your country 
and its freedom ; for your country and its institutions ; for 
your own sunny South and for the whole Union ; for its 
peace and for its rights ; for your morals, for your disci- 
pline ; and, in that discipline the first and the last point, obe- 
dience to your officers ! Never has your company exhibited 


any deficiency in this respect, and, therefore, it has always 
been efficient and respectable. You glory in the name of 
American, but you receive as Americans every one whom 
the laws of your country recognize as such. You have not 
deserted your posts, because the fellow-conntrymen of him 
who led your armies to the walls of Quebec placed them- 
selves by your side, to make common cause with you for 
that land which their acceptance of your conditions made 
your common country. France, Germany, Ireland, and Scot- 
land muster by your side, and with them you form a band of 
brothers; uniting, as your Washington has done, your whole 
force for an irresistible protection. Do not those flags wave 
over men who love to gather round your stars, to be 
guided by your eagle? When you volunteered to protect 
our brethren in Florida, were not the Germans your com- 
panions? Did not the Irish penetrate into its swamps? 
But why do I thus address you? Our generous South 
has fully imbibed the spirit of our hero ; and we know 
not these mischievous distinctions. A man loves not less 
the home of his choice, because he recollects the spot 
Avhere he first breathed. The soldier's contest of emulation 
is then noble, for it is equally free from the meanness of 
jealousy, as it is from the folly of miserable and mis- 
chievous distinctions. Xor did I need the proof which you 
have given, by affording me this day's opportunity of 
addressing you, to be convinced that the Washington Light 
Infantry possess largely that liberal sentiment which per- 
vades all our companies and most of our citizens. 

Thank God, no prospect of war now dims our horizon; 
but the best security for peace is the power of protection. 
Upon this principle you should not relax. The best regu- 
lated State is liable to unforeseen derangements, and no 
one can say when an emergency may arise. It is not when 
action is necessary that training should commence. The 
knowledge that you are ready will be the security for your 
repose. It was upon those principles that upwards of thirty 
years ago this company was formed by one of whom Car- 


olina had cause to be proud; one whose talents were made 
useful by his wisdom; one to whom senates looked for 
counsel, and in whose integrity a continent confided. Wil- 
liam Lowndes, your first captain, your founder, perhaps par- 
took of the moral qualities of Washington in a larger 
degree than many who have appeared in the councils of 
the republic since the establishment of our Constitution; 
and how efficiently the officers who have since its forma- 
tion been selected have fulfilled the trust which has been 
reposed in them is sufficiently proclaimed by the compara- 
tive smallness of tkeir number. Your memory will easily 
pass them in review before you. 

To you has been confided, by the honored widow of a 
brave officer, one of the most precious relics of the Revo- 
lutionary war. There is the banner that was borne in the 
gallant charge at Cowpens, on the 17th of January, 1781, 
when the surge of confusion was arrested and the tide of 
war turned by William Washington at the head of his dra- 
goons. It then seemed a fiery meteor to the astonished 
Tarleton, when for the first time the spell of his success 
was broken, and he saw his veterans lay down their arms 
at the summons of the intrepid Howard. The glory with 
which it that day was radiant began to dissipate the gloom 
under which Carolina sat dejected; animated with hope, 
she roused herself to new exertion, and her Sumters and 
her Marions were again more active, more bold and more 
successful. Again, upon the field of Eutaw, it floated in 
triumph to the joyous notes of the trumpet which pro- 
claimed the retreat of the enemy from the last struggle by 
which they sought to keep Carolina in thraldom. "Never 
has it been disgraced in my husband's possession," was the 
short speech of Mrs. Washington, when she gave it to your 
company. The commander of the host that bore it through 
peril and in victory preserved it as a loved memorial at 
the termination of the war. General William Washington, 
at his death, left it in the possession of his widow ; and 
in the decline of her days that venerable matron knew of 


no more valiant and honorable hands to Avhich she could 
confide its preservation than those of the Washington Light 
Infantry. Ten years have elapsed since it was presented 
to you through the hands of that Lieutenant Cross, who 
held one of the first commissions in your company with 
Captain Lowndes at the period of your formation, but who 
had command of the brigade on the day that he attended 
with Mrs. Washington to present it to your guardianship. 
When you are marshaled under that banner, with the love 
of your country in your hearts and her arms in your 
hands, you will be faithful to the confidence reposed in 
you your cry will be " Cowpens," " Eutaw," and " Wash- 
ington" your path will be the track of honor and of 
glory your history will be found upon the record of fame. 


MY BRETHREN : The peculiar circumstances in which I 
find myself placed in this respectable assemblage are to me 
the cause of some embarrassment; for I look upon the 
situation in which I stand to be one of extreme delicacy. 
I am the minister of a religion professed by a minority 
of our citizens ; standing, by the permission of the pastor 
of a different communion, in accordance with the wish of 
some of my friends and their associates, members of the 
legislature of this nation, to address you upon the subject of 
religion. Whilst I know that I ought to speak freely, I 
also feel that I should avoid any unpleasant reference to 
those differences which exist between persons professing 
Christianity, except where the necessity of the case would 
demand such reference. And I am fully aware that as 
I am the first clergyman of the Church to which I belong 
who has had the honor of addressing you from this chair, 
it must be generally expected that I would rather speak 
upon some of the peculiarities of my own faith than con- 
tent myself with giving a discourse upon any general topic, 
that, as being common to all, would be to you matter of 
no special interest. 

But in order to arrive at the particular ground of this 
description, it will be necessary at first to examine the 
general principles of our religion ; through these the avenue 
lies, and through that we must proceed. Upon those gen- 
eral principles, I presume, I shall be found to accord with 
the great bulk of my auditors, though I cannot hope that 

1 Preached In the hall of the House of Representatives of the Congress of the 
United States, on Sunday, January 8, 1830. 



they will all agree with me in my details, or rather m 
my conclusions. I shall then commence by examining what 
religion is, that from this examination we may arrive at 
the proper place for making our further inquiry. 

Eeligion is the homage which man owes to God. This, 
and this only, is religion ; everything is embraced in this 
principle; no detail is excluded from this definition. Man's 
duty to God is, then, religion. Thus, to know what man's 
duty is, we are brought to examine his nature. That 
nature is two-fold spiritual and corporeal the spirit superior 
to the body, more perfect than the body ; the first duty 
of a religious man is to worship God, who is a spirit, in 
spirit and. in truth. But to know how this spiritual worship 
is to be paid by man to his Creator, Ave must learn of 
what man's spirit consists, or rather we must see what 
faculties it embraces. The first faculty of the soul is the 
understanding, by which we discern truth from error. 
Man is bound to worship God by his faculties ; his lead- 
ing duty is, then, to worship God with his understanding; 
and the great province of the understanding being to dis- 
criminate between truth and error, man's primary religious 
obligation is to labor for the discovery of truth, and to 
adhere to what he shall have thus discovered. Truth and 
falsehood are not, therefore, matters of indifference ; man's 
obligation is to adhere to truth and to reject falsehood. 
The exertion of the understanding for this purpose is then 
our first, our highest duty ; to neglect this is criminal. 
This investigation for the discovery of religious truth is 
the duty of every human being ; each person is bound to 
inquire to the best of his power; and he who neglects or 
overlooks his obligation is inexcusable. 

But it is not enough that the understanding is enlight- 
ened. It is not for the mere object of being acquainted 
with speculative truth that he should inquire. The second 
faculty of the soul is the will ; its determinations are 
formed with perfect freedom ; generally upon the knowledge 
which has been acquired ; hence the discovery of truth 



should be pursued for the purpose of regulating the de- 
terminations of the will ; and the homage of this faculty 
is paid to the Creator by continually determining to act 
according to the la\v of reason, as it has been discovered 
after sufficient inquiry. 

Moreover, we feel within ourselves, and all mankind 
testifies to a similar experience, that after such a result 
we do not always act as we have determined. The allure- 
ments of the world in which we live, mutual example, 
and a variety of affections, desires and passions, interfere 
between the determinations of the will and the carrying of 
those resolutions into effect. But it is our duty to with- 
stand those allurements, not to be misled by example ; to 
regulate our affections and desires, to keep our passions in 
subjection to our reasonable determinations, and thus to do> 
in all things the perfect will of God, which must accord 
with the great rule of reason. 

Man is not wholly a spirit ; he is also a material being, 
having a body and living in a visible world, where his 
fellow-creatures are also in bodily existence. He owes to 
his Creator external homage with that body, as well as to 
pay to the Author of his whole being the worship of all 
its parts, as to give evidence to others that will at 
the same time satisfy them of his acting with due re- 
spect to the Great Father of all, as also to excite his 
brethren to religion by his own good example. Pure, un- 
bodied intelligences who worship before the throne of the 
Most High, in spirit and in truth, pay the homage of 
their whole being in mere spiritual adoration, because they 
are altogether and exclusively spiritual in their nature. 
Man, made less than the angels, bears about him a body 
which he has received from the Creator of his soul the 
dissimilarity of their natures destroys the analogy by which 
it might be sought to establish, that his worship should 
be in all things similar to that paid by a spirit having 
no material parts joined in his nature. 

The plain result of these considerations must be that it 


is our duty to exert our understanding for the discovery 
of truth, to frame the determination of our will according 
to ascertained truth, and to carry those determinations into 
eifect, to bring our affections into accordance with reason, 
to keep our passions under proper restraint, and to pay to 
God. external homage. This is what we call natural re- 
ligion : for it is what nature and reason exhibit as our duty. 

If God never revealed His will to man, we should have 
those great principles only for ourj guidance to the fulfill- 
ment of our obligations to our Creator. But two questions 
naturally present themselves to us : Did God ever make 
special communications to any of our race? And if he 
did, could such revelation destroy or weaken the force of 
the principles of natural religion? 

To the last question an immediate answer may be un- 
hesitatingly given. No revelation made by God can destroy 
or weaken the force of those principles. On the contrary, 
such revelation must not only be in accordance with them, 
but would tend rather to strengthen them, and to give 
more precision to their application. God, the eternal truth, 
cannot be inconsistent with Himself. Truth cannot be con- 
tradictory to truth. Human reason is a spark emanating 
from the great fire of eternal truth ; though extremely lim- 
ited, yet it has proceeded from the infinite Deity; its slender 
ray may too often imperfectly exhibit what lies around us 
in the dark labyrinth through which we journey to the 
grave ; and the same objects would be more fully exposed 
to view, and more distinctly understood, if the effulgence 
of the Godhead poured its brilliant flood around. The 
objects then, by either light, would still continue unchanged, 
though their appearance would in each case be materially 
altered. What human reason clearly and fully discovers 
cannot be known otherwise by the intelligence of God, and 
His testimony by revelation would still accord with His 
testimony by human reason ; but too frequently we are 
disposed to conclude, that we are well acquainted with what 
we very imperfectly know, and we assert that reason tes- 


tifies where it docs not. Hence there is created an appa- 
rent conflict between what \ve say our reason testifies, and 
what we state that God reveals. But the great duties of 
natural religion are equally enforced by "both. If we should 
find that God did make a revelation, there will not be 
anything found in that revelation to weaken the principles 
of natural religion. The first principle of each is, that 
man is obliged to exert himself for the discovery of truth. 
In a state of mere nature we would have only the testi- 
mony of our own reason ; in a state of revelation we have 
the additional aid of the testimony of God. Although the 
one is more extensive and more perfect than the other, 
still there can be no conflict between them. Daily experi- 
ence ought to convince us how limited is our knowledge. 
Yet our pride urges us to think that we can be acquainted 
with even the secrets of the Godhead. We certainly are 
not, and cannot be bound to believe without such evidence 
as will be sufficient to satisfy his mind. That evidence 
must be the exhibition of truth to our own reason, or our 
perfect satisfaction that we receive the testimony of God. 
Without this evidence no man is bound to believe. The 
humblest individual who walks the earth has not been sub- 
jected by his Creator to any dominion which can enthral 
his intellect ; he stands before his Maker as independent 
in his mind as does the brightest intelligence which scans 
the perfections of the Deity, and glows in the raptures of 
his vision. It is true that we are made lower than the 
ministering spirits who surround the throne of heaven. Yet 
we are not made subject to them. Nor is any man's mind 
made subject to his fellow man. But we all are upon this 
ground made originally equal ; all bound to believe God 
when He speaks, all bound to admit His infinite knowl- 
edge, to testify to His unerring truth, and to pay the 
homage of our submission to His declaration. Every creat- 
ure must bow every faculty before the Creator, but to the 
Creator alone. Thus we find the fundamental principles of 
revealed religion to be, that man is bound to pay to God 


the homage of his understanding by believing Him when 
He makes a revelation. This belief is faith ; that is, the 
belief, upon the testimony of God, of truths or facts which 
unaided human reason could not discover. And since we 
should exert ourselves to discover truth, we cannot be 
excused from making the inquiry as to whether God made 
a revelation, and if He did what were His communications? 
Nor can it be to us a matter of indifference whether we 
take up truth or error for regulating the determinations of 
our will. If it was not beneath the dignity of God to 
stoop for the instruction of man, it cannot be a degrada- 
tion for man to raise himself to learn from his Creator. 
It is his duty to learn and to obey. The view then given 
by us of revealed religion is that it consists in believing 
God when He teaches us, and in obeying Him when He 
commands us, and of course adhering to His institutions. 
Whatever is the necessary consequence of this great prin- 
ciple we say is religion. Anything which is not embraced 
in this, is not religion. It may be superstition, it may be 
fanaticism, it may be infidelity, it may be folly; but it is not 
religion. Faith, then, is not folly, it is not abject slavery 
of the mind, it is not visionary fanaticism, it is not irra- 
tional assent to unintelligible propositions ; but it is be- 
lieving upon the testimony of God what human reason 
could not discover, but what a provident and wise Deity 
communicates for the information of our minds and the 
direction of our will. 

And surely there are a multitude of truths which are 
known to God, and whose discovery is yet beyond the 
reach of our limited faculties. AVe are surrounded by mys- 
teries of nature ; we observe innumerable facts, not one of 
which has yet been explained, and many of which would 
be almost pronounced contradictions, although known to be 
in co-existence. Man is himself a mystery to man yet the 
God who formed his body, and created his soul, plainly 
sees and distinctly understands all the minute details of 
the wonderful machine of his body, and is well acquainted 


with his vital principle; the nature and essence of the 
soul are within His view. He is lifted above the heavens; 
His days are from eternity to eternity ; He pervades all 
space ; His eye beholds the worlds which roll in the firma- 
ment, and embraces the infinite void ; all things which 
exist are exposed to His vision ; whilst man, the diminu- 
tive speck upon a spot of creation, scarcely distinguishes 
the objects which dimly show within ' his confined horizon ; 
shall he presume to say that nothing exists beyond the 
narrow precincts of his temporary prison? Or, if the God 
of heaven declares some of the riches which lie scattered 
through His works ; if He vouchsafes to inform us of His 
own nature or of ours, that our relations may be more 
specifically understood ; our hopes more clearly founded ; our 
zeal better excited; our determinations better regulated, and 
our acts more suitably, and simply, and satisfactorily directed; 
shall stunted little man presume to say that perhaps he is 
deceived, because he has only the testimony of God, but 
not the testimony of his own reason? Does not his own 
reason tell him that God neither can be deceived, nor can 
He deceive His creatures ? Thus his own reason informs 
man, that the testimony of God making a revelation, is the- 
very highest evidence of truth the surest ground cf 

It might sometimes happen, that what is found to have 
been testified by the Deity contradicts what would appear, 
to spine individuals, to have been ascertained by the pro- 
cess of their own reasoning. Our principle is plain ; God 
cannot err, man frequently has erred, and is perpetually 
liable to mistake. If, then, we have certain proof of the 
declaration of the Creator, there can be no difficulty in 
arriving at the reasonable, the practical, the correct result; 
that result is again our great principle it is the duty of 
man to believe God when He testifies ; and the simple 
inquiry will be regarding the question of fact, " Has God 
testified ? " If He has, our doubts must cease ; our belief 
is demanded by reason and by religion. Indeed, they are 


never opposed to each other ; upon patient inquiry they 
will always be found mutually to aid each other. The his- 
tory of the world presents to us the exhibition of the 
weakness of the human mind perpetually changing its 
theories ; perpetually adding to its stock of information ; fre- 
quently detecting its own mistakes ; correcting its aberrations, 
and proving its imbecility, whilst it asserts its strength. 
The eternal God, infinite in His perfections, is always the 
same ; in Him there is no vicissitude ; alone, changeless 
amidst a changing universe; His vesture and decoration He 
may change, but He is eternally the same, in His knowl- 
edge as in His truth; the heavens and the earth may 
pass away ; but His word cannot fail. 

\Ve are thus brought to the simple inquiry concerning 
the fact of a revelation. The truth of a fact must be 
always ascertained by testimony : that testimony must be 
such as ought to be sufficient to produce conviction of 
truth, before belief can be reasonably required. When that 
sufficient testimony has been adduced, to withhold belief 
would be unreasonable unreasonable rejection of evidence, 
where there is no question as to the revelation of God, 
cannot be innocent. The refusal to examine is plainly 
against the first principle of religion ; contrary to the plain- 
est maxims of reason. A mistake honestly made is par- 
donable, but the rejection of evidence must be irreligious. 

In - examining whether revelation has been actually made, 
we are met by a variety of preliminary difficulties, before 
we are permitted to enter upon the evidence of the fact ; 
but I should hope that a few plain observations would 
easily remove them. As I give but a very imperfect out- 
line of the ground of proof respecting this head, my object 
being rather to hasten forward to some specialties regard- 
ing that particular Church in which I have the honor of 
being a minister, than to dwell upon the general ground 
which is common to us all, they must be few. But there 
is a philosophy, which endeavors to stop our progress at 
this pass. Philosophy did I call it! No I was wrong to 


dignify it with that appellation. It is a species of perplex- 
ing sophistry, which, clothing itself in the garb of rational 
inquiry, asks a thousand questions, to which neither itself 
nor philosophy can answer with satisfaction. They are 
questions which bewilder the mind, but cannot assist the 
understanding; they are fully sufficient to show the weak- 
ness of our reason, and to teach us to distrust ourselves 
because of the imperfection of our faculties. But urged too 
far, they might force us to conclude that we should make 
no exertion, because we are not omnipotent; that we should 
make no inquiry, because we cannot elucidate all that is 
dark; that we can have no certainty, because there are 
some cases of doubt ; and that we have no information, 
because there is some knowledge beyond our reach. That 
certainly does not deserve the name of philosophy which 
would only fill the world with doubts, and conjectures, and 
probabilities, instead of knowledge of fact founded upon 
evidence of testimony. Sophistry, having led you from your 
plain path and bewildered you in a labyrinth, by turns 
smiles at your folly, sheds the tear of mocking condolence 
for your degradation, and sneers at your baffled efforts to 
extricate yourself. Calm and dignified philosophy unfolds 
to you the plain evidence of facts ; and having fully estab- 
lished the truth of the fact, draws thence the irresistible 
conclusion ; thus leading in a way in which even fools can- 
not err. This is the path of religion. 

I may be asked, when will man know that he has evi- 
dence of fact; and how shall he know it? There are 
some questions which are more plainly answered by our 
conviction than by any induction. The feeling of the evi- 
dence is so strong that we can, by the very expression of 
the feeling, testify to others what they know, because they 
too feel as we do, and they know that we should, by any 
attempt at inductive proof, make perfectly obscure that 
which, without this effort, would be fully and confessedly 
evident. Ask me how I know that I have evidence of 
light being now diffused around me; how you have cvi- 


dence that I now address you ; how we all have evidence 
of our existence ; who will undertake, by any process of 
reasoning, to produce a stronger feeling of conviction than 
exists by the very feeling of the evidence? Nor have we 
any form of expression which would carry more conviction 
to the mind than that which announces the feeling itself; 
each individual will know when that feeling exists within 
him. No speculation will aid him to the knowledge of the 
fact; and where the general testimony of mankind is given 
to the existence of this feeling, it cannot but have an inti- 
mate connection with truth. If it had not, the God who> 
formed our nature, such as it is, would have placed us 
under a delusion from which we could not be extricated ; and 
the assertion of this not only would destroy every criterion 
by which truth could be distingushed from error, but would 
be blasphemy against the Creator of the universe. 

Let us come to view how we ascertain the fact of reve- 
lation. If there is any special work which is so peculiarly 
and exclusively that of an individual, as that it can be 
performed by no other, the fact of the existence of that 
work establishes the fact of his presence; and if his pres- 
ence is a testimony by him of his concurrence in declara- 
tions then made, he is reponsible for the truth of those 
declarations. We believe miracles to be works above 
the power of created beings, and requiring the immediate 
presence and agency of the Divinity, and given by Him 
as the proof of His commission to the individuals or socie- 
ties whom He makes witnesses to men of truth revealed 
by Him. The feeling of the miracle being evidence of 
His presence for this purpose, is so general, and its tes- 
timony so fully given by the human race, as well by 
their spontaneous declaration as by their whole course of 
conduct, that it would argue in our Creator Himself a 
total disregard for man's information, if He permitted its- 
existence during so many centuries, and with such inevita- 
ble results, unless it were a criterion of truth. The same 
consequences would necessarily follow from a permission, on 


the part of God, of a general delusion of mankind as to 
the species of works that were miraculous. When the feeling 
generally existed, and was acted upon most extensively 
during a long series of ages, that works of a peculiar 
description were emphatically miracles, and that the per- 
formance of those miracles was an undoubted proof of God's 
presence to uphold the truth of the declarations made in 
His name by the agents or the instruments used in these 
Avorks: the Author of our nature would be chargeable with 
aiding in our delusion, if He did not, as He could, and 
.as His perfections would demand, interfere to correct the 

Our next observation must regard the quantity of testi- 
mony which would be required to prove one of those 
miraculous facts. The assertion has sometimes been made, 
that more than usually would suffice for establishing an 
-ordinary fact, would be necessary to prove the existence of 
a, miracle. We altogether dissent from this position. The 
facts, in the one case, are precisely as obvious to exam- 
ination as in the other. Strange as the assertion which I 
am about to make will probably appear to many who have 
honored me with their attention, I plainly say that it will 
be found, upon reflection, that there is far less danger of 
deceit or mistake in the examination of a miraculous fact, 
than there is in one of ordinary occurrence. The reason 
is simple, and I believe natural and evidently sufficient. 
The mind is less liable to be imposed upon, when its curi- 
osity is greatly excited, and when its jealousy and suspi- 
cions are awakened, than when it is prepared to expect 
and to admit what it is daily, perhaps hourly, in the habit 
of expecting and admitting. Ordinary events excite no curi- 
osity, create no surprise, and there is no difficulty in admit- 
ting, that what has frequently occurred occurs again ; the 
statement of such an occurrence will easily pass ; but the 
state of the mind is widely different, when we eagerly seek 
to ascertain whether what has never been witnessed by us 
before, has now come under our observation, or whether 


we have not been under some delusion; whether an attempt 
has not been made to deceive us. We, in such a case, 
become extremely jealous ; we examine with more than 
ordinary care, and we run less risk of being deceived or 

No person doubts the power of the Creator, the supreme 
Legislator and Preserver of the universe, to suspend any 
law of nature in the course of its operation, or to select 
some individual case which He will except from the opera- 
tion of that law, and during His own pleasure. The ques- 
tion can never be as to this power, as to the possibility 
of a miraculous interference ; but it always must regard 
the fact, and that fact must be established by testimony, 
and without the evidence of testimony, no person who was 
not present can be required to believe. There does not 
and cannot exist any individual or tribunal, with power to 
require or command the humblest mortal to believe with- 
out evidence. 

There is no place in which the rules of evidence are 
better understood or more accurately observed than in our 
respectable courts of law. Permit me, for the moment, to 
bring your attention to one of those cases which frequently 
presents itself to the view of our citizens. There stands a 
citizen charged with the murder of his fellow-man. Long 
experience, deep study, unsullied purity, calm impartiality, 
and patience for investigati n, form the judicial character ; 
they are found upon the bench. Steady integrity, the power 
of discrimination, the love of justice, a deep interest in the 
welfare of the community, and the sanction of a solemn 
pledge to heaven, are all found in the jury. The public 
eye is upon them, and the supreme tribunal of public 
opinion, after an open hearing of the case, is to pronounce 
upon the judges and the jurors themselves. The life or 
death, the fame or infamy of the accused lies with them, 
and is in their keeping, at the peril of their feelings, their 
character, their conscience, and their souls. The decision 
must be made by the evidence arising from testimony, and 


that the testimony of men, and those men liable to all 
the weakness and all the bad passions of humanity ; yet 
here, in this important case, a solemn decision must be 
made. That jury must be satisfied that the person now 
said to be dead was living, that he is now dead, that the 
change from life to death was produced by the act of their 
fellow-citizen now arraigned before them; that this act was 
done with sufficient deliberation to proceed from malicious 
intent ; that for this act he had no authority ; he who was 
deprived of life being a peaceable person, under the pro- 
tection of the State. In this there is frequently much per- 
plexity, and little testimony, and that testimony frequently 
regarding not the substantial ingredients of the crime, but 
establishing facts, from which those that form the in- 
gredients are only derived by inference. Still we find 
convictions and have executions, and the jury, with the appro- 
bation of the bench, and the assent of the community, 
unhesitatingly put on solemn record their conviction of the 
truth of facts which they never saw, and of which they 
have only the testimony of their fellow-men; and upon this 
testimony society agrees that property, liberty, life and fame, 
shall all be disposed of with perfect assurance of truth 
and justice. 

I will now suppose that court constituted as I have 
described, and for the purpose of ascertaining the fact of 
murder. A number of respectable witnesses depose to the 
fact of the person stated to be slain having been alive. 
They were in habits of intimacy with him, were his com- 
panions during years, some of them have seen his dead 
body, in presence of others who also testify to their having 
seen and examined that body ; those last were present when 
the prisoner, with perfect deliberation, inflicted a wound 
upon the deceased. There can be no doubt as to the 
identity of the deceased, and there is none as to the identity 
of the prisoner. A number of physicians testify their opinion 
as to the wound so given, and which they examined, being 
a sufficient cause of death. The accused produces no author- 


ity for Ills act; there has been no process of law against 
the deceased, who was a peaceable and well-conducted citi- 
zen. How could that jury hesitate ? They must, painful 
as is the task, they must consign the unfortunate culprit to 
the just vengeance of the law ; the judge must deliver him 
to the executioner, and the public record of the State must 
exhibit his infamy. Life and character must both disap- 
pear ; they are swept away by the irresistible force of 
evidence, founded upon human testimony. The widow must 
hang her head in shame ; in the recess of her dwelling 
she must sit in lonely, disconsolate, unsupported grief; the 
orphans blush to bear their father's name ; the brothers 
would forget their kindred ; and perhaps even gray hairs 
would gladly bow still lower, compelled by grief and years 
to court the concealment of the grave. 

Still, when a fact becomes evident from the examination 
of testimony, we must yield our assent to that fact, with- 
out regarding its consequences. 

Let me continue my supposition. Before the dissolution 
of that court, whilst it is yet in session, the jury still 
occupying their seats a rush is made into the hall the 
same identical witnesses appear again ; but they are accom- 
panied by the deceased, now raised to life. They testify that, 
as they were departing from the court, a man, whom they 
produce, proclaimed that he was commissioned by the Most 
High to deliver His great behests to his fellow-men ; and 
that to prove the validity of his commission, he summoned 
them to accompany him to the tomb of the man whose death 
they had so fully proved, and that by an appeal to heaven 
for the authenticity of his commission, the man should 
revive. They went they saw the body in the grave the 
claimant upon heaven called upon the eternal God to show 
that He had sent him to teach his fellow-men. He calls the 
deceased the body rises the dead has come to life. He 
accompanies them to the court; he is recognized by his 
acquaintances confessed by his friends felt by the people ; 
lie speaks, he breathes he moves, he eats, he drinks, lie 


lives amongst them. Can that court refuse to say that it 
is satisfied of the fact of the resuscitation ? What would 
any honest man think of the members of that jury should 
they swear that this man had not been resuscitated by the 
interference of that individual who thus proves his com- 
mission ? If that jury could, upon the testimony of those 
witnesses, find the first fact, why shall they not, upon the 
same testimony, find the second? 

But, we may be asked, how we know that this man was- 
dead? Probably it was only a mistake. He could not have 
been totally bereft of life. Ask the jury, who, upon the 
certainty of the fact of death, consigned their fellow-citizen 
to infamy and to the gallows. Shall we admit the certainty 
for the purposes of human justice, and quibble with our 
convictions to exclude the testimony of heaven? This, 
indeed, would be a miserable sophistry. "Would any court 
upon such a plea, so unsupported, issue a respite from 
execution? An isolated perhaps, with nothing to rest upon, 
set up against positive testimony, resting upon the uncon- 
tradicted evidence derived from the senses, from experience, 
and from analogy; a speculative possibility against a sub- 
stantive fact, by which the very possibility is destroyed ! 

Where is the cause of doubt? Where the difference 
between the two cases? In both suppositions the essential 
facts are the same life, death identity; the difference 
consists in the accidental circumstances of the priority of one 
to the other. The one is the ordinary transition from life 
to death, an occurrence which is to us most mysterious and 
inexplicable, but with the existence of which we are long 
familiar; the other a transition from death to life, not more 
mysterious but which rarely occurs, and when it does occur, 
is most closely examined, viewed with jealous scrutiny, and 
which excites deep interest, and to admit the truth of 
which there is no predisposition in the mind. The facts 
are precisely the same in the case of the murder and 
of the miracle ; the accident of the priority of one to 
the other constitutes the whole difference. And surely if 


witnesses ~an tell me that a man who has never died shows 
all the symptoms of life, the same witnesses can tell me the 
same fact, though that man had passed from death to life. 
The symptoms of life are always the same, and the testimony 
which will establish the fact of life at one time, by proving 
the existence of those symptoms, will be at any time sufficient 
for the same purpose. The same is to be said of the 
symptoms of death and of the testimony which will establish 
the fact by proving their existence. It may be objected that 
no adequate cause is assigned for this extraordinary occur- 
rence. The answer is twofold. To be convinced of the truth. 
of a fact, it is not necessary that I should know the cause 
of its existence ; it suffices for me to know the existence 
of the fact itself, and its existence will not be the less certain 
though I should never be able to discover the cause. How 
many facts do we every day witness, whose causes are still 
to us inaccessible and undiscovered! Next: An adequate 
cause is here distinctly pointed out and referred to. He 
who first breathed into the nostrils of man, whom He fash- 
ioned from the dust, a living soul, is now equally powerful 
to call back the departed spirit to its mouldering tenement 
of clay. 

In the Mosaic in the Christian dispensation, what multi- 
tudes of miraculous facts attest the presence of the Deity 
the revelations of heaven ! During what a length of time 
were not those facts open to every species of examination ! 
How favorable were the circumstances for the detection of 
imposition, for the exposure of fanaticism, for the ridicule of 
folly, if the impostor, the fanatic, or the fool had claimed 
to be the messenger of heaven ! Thus we believe that our 
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ instructed man in the 
doctrines of truth, had authority to prescribe laws of morality, 
and founded institutions to which we are religiously bound 
unalterably to adhere. If the miraculous facts, which estab- 
lish this conclusion, are not in full evidence, I, for one, 
must profess that I must blot from my mind all that I have 
been ever led to believe were facts of history. 


A peculiarity of our religion is, that we may at any moment 
risk its truth or falsehood upon the truth or falsehood of 
the statement of any one or the whole of a vast variety of 
facts. We know nothing of speculation, we know nothing 
of opinion. Opinions form no part of our religion. It is 
all a statement of facts, and the truth of those facts can at 
any moment be brought to the test. With this we stand or 
fall. Allow me to adduce one fact as an instance and an 

The Founder of our Church, the Saviour of the world, 
foretold the destruction of Jerusalem, and that not a stone 
should be left upon another of the mighty mass of the 
splendid temple. One of our prophets foretold that upon 
the establishment of the new law which we profess, the 
sacrifice should cease, and never be restored, in that temple. 
The sacrifice did cease the city was sacked the temple 
was destroyed: the Christians proclaimed that the temple 
would never be rebuilt, the sacrifice would never be restored. 
The Roman emperor Julian, having apostatized from the 
faith, was determined to humble the Church which he 
had deserted, and by establishing one fact to defeat their 
prophecy, to prove the delusion of the Nazarenes or Galileans, 
as he termed the Christians. With the wealth of the Roman 
empire, the power of his sceptre, the influence of his place, 
and the devotion of the most zealous people under heaven, 
he made the attempt. The whole Jewish people, animated 
with love of country and of religion, cheered by their neigh- 
bors, urged on by their emperor, flattered by his court, 
undertook the work. They rooted up the old foundations 
of the temple, until indeed there was not left a stone upon 
a stone ; they prepared to rebuild. History testifies their 
disappointment. Cyril of Jerusalem, a bishop of our Church, 
and Ammianus Marcellinus, the emperor's historian, a Chris- 
tian and a pagan, together with a cloud of other witnesses, 
inform us of their discomfiture. Centuries have elapsed. 
The prophecy and the attempt are both on record. To-day 
we say, as our predecessors said then : " Build that temple, 


offer one sacrifice according to the Mosaic rites within its 
walls, and we acknowledge our delusion." But we cannot, 
for any speculative opinions of philosophers, abandon the 
evidence of miracles, of prophecy, and of history united. 

My brethren, 1 come now to a new part of my subject. 
"VYe have seen that our blessed Saviour Jesus Christ made 
a revelation to the human race ; our next and very natural 
inquiry must be to discover how we shall ascertain what that 
revelation is. This is the place where we arrive at the 
essential distinction between the Roman Catholic Church 
and every other; it is, indeed, upon this question the whole 
difference turns ; and to this it must be always brought back. 
The doctrine which, as a prelate of that Church, and from 
my own conscientious conviction, I preach, differs very 
widely indeed from what is generally professed and acted 
upon by the great majority of our citizens, and by a vast 
portion of the respectable and enlightened assemblage wnich 
surrounds me. I shall state our doctrine fully upon this 
head; but I do not feel that it would be correct or delicate 
on my part to enter at present upon the field of polemics 
for its vindication. Still it will be permitted that I give 
an outline, imperfect and defective it must be, for the cause 
which I have assigned, of the reasons for that faith which 
is in us. 

And here let me assure you that if, in the course of my 
observations, any expression should escape from me that may 
appear calculated to wound the feelings of those from whom 
I differ, it is not my intention to assail, to insult, or to give 
pain ; and that I may be pardoned for what will be in truth 
an inconsiderate expression, not intended to offend. Neither 
my own feelings, nor my judgment, nor my faith would 
dictate to me anything calculated to embitter the feelings of 
those who differ from me merely for that difference. My 
kindest friends, my most intimate acquaintance, they whom 
I do and ought to esteem and respect, are at variance with 
my creed; yet it. does not and shall not destroy our affection. 
In me it would be ingratitude; for I must avow, and I do 



it most willingly, that in my journeys through our States 
I have been frequently humbled and abashed at the kind- 
ness with which I have been treated. I came amongst you 
a stranger, and I went through your land with many and 
most serious and unfortunate mistakes, for which you were 
not blamable, operating to my disadvantage. If a Roman 
Catholic bishop were in truth what he is even now generally 
supposed to be, in various parts of this Union, lie should not 
be permitted to reside amongst you ; yet was I received into 
your houses, enrolled in your families, and profited by your 
kindness. I have frequently put the question to myself 
whether, if I had similar impressions regarding you, I could 
have acted with the like kindness; and I must own, I 
frequently doubted that I would. It is true, you labored 
under serious mistakes as to what was my religion, and what 
were my duties and my obligations. But you were not 
yourselves the authors of those mistakes ; nor had you within 
your reach the means of correcting them. I feel grateful to 
my friends who have afforded me this opportunity of perhaps 
aiding to do away with those impressions ; for our affections 
will be more strong as those mistakes will be corrected; 
and it must gratify those who, loving the country, behold 
us spread through it, to be assured, that we are not those 
vile beings that have been painted to their imaginations, 
and which ought not to be allowed existence in any civilized 

Upon our principles, my brethren, we must not speculate; 
we must always keep our eye steadily upon facts. The 
wisest man might be misled in speculation ; might make 
great mistakes in forming opinions ; but if he has evidence 
of a fact he has ground upon which he can rest with 
certainty; and the inevitable consequence of that fact pro- 
duces certainty also. Let us then look for facts instead of 
hazarding conjectures or maintaining opinions. 

It is a fact that our blessed Redeemer did not write His 
communications; it is equally certain that He neither gave 
a command nor a commission to have them written. It is a 


fact, that His religion was fully and extensively established 
before any part of the Scriptures of our new law was com- 
mitted to writing. We therefore believe it to be evident 
that our religion was not established by the dissemination 
of writings. 

We have abundant testimony to show that our blessed 
Redeemer, besides having publicly taught the people, selected 
a few persons whom he more fully instructed and duly 
authorized to teach also. They were His companions during 
life, and after His death they were the promulgators of His 
doctriue. Their commission from Him was not to become 
philosophers, discussing what was probably the nature of 
God and the obligation of man, and examining what means 
they would esteem to be most likely to lead mankind to 
eternal happiness. They were constituted witnesses to others, 
to testify what the Saviour revealed to them, and to speak 
of positive facts with undoubting certainty; to state what 
He actually told, what He precisely commanded, what He 
positively instituted, and for what purpose, and what were 
to be the consequences. All this was matter-of-fact testified 
by witnesses, not discovered by disquisitions of philosophy. 
The teachers were not to add, they were not to diminish, 
they were not to change; the perfection of the revelation 
consisted in preserving the account purely unchanged. We 
find it is a fact that others were added to the commission 
of teachers. The very nature of the case exhibited the 
necessity of such addition, because the original commissioners 
would not suffice for the multitude to be taught. Natural 
reason pointed out the course which testimony shows us was 
followed. They who were originally constituted by the 
Redeemer to form the teaching tribunal, selected those whom 
they found best instructed, and being satisfied of their 
integrity by the testimony of those who had long known 
them, they were themselves judges of their full acquaintance 
with the truths which were to be taught and of their ability. 
They ordained them as fellow-witnesses, extended to them 
the power of the commission, and thus in every city were 


chosen faithful men, who might be fit to teach others that 
form of sound words which had been committed to them- 
selves before many witnesses. The people who heard the 
testimony of the first teachers were also capable of observing 
if any deviation had been made by their successors. Those 
first teachers and their associates were scattered abroad 
widely through the world, but in all places they taught the 
same things, for truth could not be contradictory. Some 
persons sought after novelties, and separated from the great 
body, which itself remained united in government and in 
doctrine, though widely scattered through the world. Those 
isolated and independent divisions followed each some theory 
of its own, having some peculiarity by which each was 
distinguished from the other, each judging and deciding for 
itself, and each claiming to have preserved the true doctrine. 
This state of things existed almost at the very origin of the 
Christian Church, and has since continued more or less 
extensively. It was not until the eighth year after the 
ascension of our Lord, or the year 41 of our era, that the 
first part of the New Testament was written by St. Matthew, 
who was one of the earliest companions of the Saviour and 
an Apostle. Many of the Christians had committed to 
writing several facts and discourses which they had learned. 
Many of their accounts contained much that has never 
reached us. Some years afterwards, St. Mark, who was not 
an Apostle, but who was a companion of St. Peter, the 
president of the apostolic body, first in honor and first in 
jurisdiction, abridged much of what St. Matthew had written, 
and added much of his own, which lie had probably learned 
from St. Peter. Those books had a limited circulation 
amongst the Christians in some places, but highly as they 
were valued, they were not looked upon as the exclusive 
evidence of the doctrines of the Redeemer, and the very 
fact, which is of course incontestable, that a vast quantity 
of what we all now receive as His doctrine is not contained 
in them, but was subsequently written, renders it impossible 
for any of us to assume this principle. In the year 53 of 
our era, St. Luke, who was a physician in Antioch, and 


who had been occasionally a companion of St. Paul, and 
had conversed with many of the other disciples and 
Apostles, began to write his Gospel from the accounts 
collected through others, and chiefly to counteract the circula- 
tion of many erroneous accounts which were written. He 
probably had not seen either of the two Gospels written by 
Matthew or Mark. About ten years after this, he wrote the 
Acts of the Apostles as a continuation of his history, and in 
it he principally confines himself to the account of the labors 
of St. Paul, as he was his companion, and had the oppor- 
tunity of observing his proceedings. Upwards of thirty 
years more elapsed before St. John wrote his Gospel at the 
request of the Churches of Asia Minor, in order to testify 
against the errors of several persons who then troubled those 
Churches with their speculations and imaginations. He had 
previously written his book of Revelations, being an obscure 
prophecy of some future events blended with history and 
vision. He had written some epistles to Churches and to 
individuals on particular occasions. St. Paul, in the dis- 
charge of his duties, had been sometimes consulted upon 
particular questions by Churches which he had founded or 
visited ; and some of his epistles are extant, in which he 
answers their difficulties, gives them instruction suitable to 
their circumstances, and makes several regulations. He also 
wrote on other occasions to Churches and to individuals, as 
did three or four of the other Apostles; some of those letters 
remain ; we are informed, and think it not unlikely, that 
many more have been lost. 

Thus, during the first century, it is a fact, that no such 
book as we now receive, called the New Testament, was 
used or adopted in the Church as the mode for each indi- 
vidual or each Church to ascertain what was the doctrine 
of Christ. The several portions of which it is composed had 
indeed been written and were used, but they were not col- 
lected together, and very probably no individual had a copy 
of the whole. But those were not the only books of the 
same description which circulated, for there were very many 


others purporting to be Gospels and epistles ; and it would 
indeed be very difficult for any individual who desired to 
know the doctrine of the Redeemer, to discover it from 
books, in such a state of things. 

Another fact is also obvious : That in this century the 
Apostles and most of those whom they had associated with 
them in their commission died. During their lives, they 
were the teachers of the doctrine; they testified what Christ 
had taught, and it was by reference to their tribunal it 
was ascertained. But a question here naturally presents 
itself to us. Should a difference of testimony be found 
amongst those teachers, it is very evident that one of them 
must have, to say the least, made a mistake ; how was an 
honest inquirer after truth to know what God has revealed? 
It is plain, we say, that truth and error must exist in such 
a case, however innocent the erring party might be. And 
unless there were a very plain and simple mode of detect- 
ing that error, He who gave the revelation would not have 
provided for its preservation. And as this difference not 
only might exist, but did actually occur at a very early 
period within this same century, the evidence of truth would 
have been lost in the difference of testimony, and revela- 
tion would have been made useless almost as soon as it 
had been given. We say that the common rule of evidence 
arising from testimony would have been sufficient, when 
properly applied, to have detected the error. That rule is : 
Examine the witnesses fully as to the fact, and if the vast 
majority, under proper circumstances, will agree in the tes- 
timony, it is the evidence of truth. Our history exhibits 
to us, in the lifetime of the Apostles, the facts of the dif- 
ference, the examination, and the decision by this rule; and 
also the further fact, that they who would not abide by 
the decision were no longer considered as holding the doc- 
trine which had been revealed, but as making new opinions, 
and substituting what they thought ought to be, instead of 
preserving what had always been. We then find those who 
continued to testify the doctrine of the Apostles holding 


communion with them, recognized as joined in their com- 
mission, and authorized also to extend and to perpetuate 
the same. Thus, although the Apostles and their associates 
<lied within this century, still that tribunal of which they 
were the first members survived, and at the end of this 
period was far more numerous and much more widely 
extended through the world; and it was to this tribunal 
recourse was had to ascertain what was the doctrine of 
our blessed Redeemer. Originally this tribunal consisted of 
Peter and his associates, the other Apostles ; now it con- 
sisted of the successor of Peter, and the successors of the 
other Apostles, and of their associates through the world. 

No king could say that he would regulate the doctrines 
for his people ; no nation had authority to modify those 
doctrines for themselves. The perfection of religion consists 
in preserving the doctrines such as they have been given 
by God in revelation. The difference of temporal govern- 
ment cannot alter what He has said. Thus, there was formed 
but one Church through many nations one tribunal to tes- 
tify in every place the same doctrine all the individuals 
who taught were witnesses for or against each other the 
whole body, with the successor of Peter at its head, watch- 
ful to see that each taught that which was originally 

In the second century the same system continues ; simi- 
lar facts present themselves to our view; the mode of ascer- 
taining what Christ had taught was, by the declarations of 
this permanent body, thus continued. The books of the 
New Testament were, perhaps, better known and more gen- 
erally read, but their circulation was comparatively limited, 
their authority not sufficiently developed, and they were by 
no means considered as the only source from which indi- 
viduals, or even congregations, could draw a full knowledge 
of the revelations of the Saviour. It was not until after 
the lapse of three centuries that the members of that living 
tribunal, which had always been the witness of doctrine, 
selected the books that form the New Testament from the 


various other works of a similar description, which had 
been very freely disseminated. We have full evidence of 
the plain fact, that this tribunal had been the authoritative 
witness of the revealed truths from the beginning, and that 
it was only after a long lapse of time that body separated 
the writings known as the Scriptures of the New Law 
from several spurious works of little or no value, some of 
them even false and pernicious. And our belief is, that the 
mode of ascertaining the doctrine of truth originally was, 
and continued to be, from the testimony of that tribunal, 
rather than by the mere testimony of those books. 

What would be the authority of those books, without the 
authority of that tribunal? Bring any written document 
into any court of justice; lay it on the table; what will 
it prove? Will you not first produce evidence to show 
what it is? You must prove by the testimony of some 
competent witness the nature and authenticity of a written 
document before that written document can be used. With- 
out having been thus established, it lies useless before the 
court. It may be what it purports to be, but it is plain 
that a written or printed book may not be what it 
assumes in its title ; a document flung upon the table of a 
court lies there without any use, until it is made useful by 
testimony besides itself. The record of a court must be 
proved by the officer of that court; fictions and forgeries 
are as easily printed or produced as are the genuine state- 
ments of truth; and it does not derogate from the value of 
a genuine document, to say that it needs first to be proved, 
for no document can prove itself. 

Our doctrine then is, that in all cases of difference as to 
faith, between the commissioned teachers of the Church, or 
in any such differences between others, the mode originally 
used will procure for us evidence of truth. The question 
never can be respecting opinion ; it must always be con- 
cerning fact; that fact is what God did reveal. The orig- 
inal witnesses spread through the world testified this fact 
to their associates and to their successors ; this testimony 


was thus continued. In the second or third century, the 
bishop in Greece could testify what had been transmitted 
to him ; the Parthian bishop gave his testimony ; the 
Egyptian added his; the Italian told what he had been 
taught; their agreement could not have been the effect 
of accident. The prejudices, the national habits, and the 
thousand accidental differences of each made them sufficiently 
watchful of each other : their joint and concurrent testimony 
must have been full proof of the sameness of the testi- 
mony of their predecessors, until all met in the Apostles 
who heard it from Jesus Christ. We say, that when the 
great majority of the bishops united with their head, the 
Bishop of Rome, who succeeds to Peter, thus concur in 
their testimony, it is evidence of truth; we will infallibly- 
come to a certain knowledge of what God has revealed^ 
This is our doctrine of the infallibility of the Church - 
and thus we believe that we will ascertain what Christ 
taught, by the testimony of the majority of bishops united 
to their head, whether assembled or dispersed through their 
sees all over the world. 1 

Others may be of opinion that this is an irrational that 
this is an incorrect, that this is an insufficient mode. We 
do not view it in that light; and I may be permitted to 
say for myself, perhaps it might be deemed prejudice > 
perhaps a weakness of intellect, or a slavery of mind'; to- 
me it appears a much better mode of attaining its great 
object than to take up the Scriptures and decide solely for 
myself; better than to depend upon the authority of any 
individual, however learned, or pious, or inspired with 
heavenly knowledge, he might be deemed. I am not infal- 
lible ; but in virtue of my place I give my testimony ; T 
may err, but the majority of my brethren will correct that 
error. A few others may err ; still the testimony of the 
majority prevails thus individuals may separate from us r 

'Consult here, for a clear definition and fnll exolanation of the infallibility 
of the Church and the Pope, Newman's answer to Gladstone, in the second vol- 
ume of "Difficulties of Anglicans." 


but our unity and our testimony remains. "We do not 
profess to believe our Pope infallible. 1 We believe, that 
by virtue of the divine appointment, he presides amongst 
us, but we are fellow-witnesses with him. 

But this power of decision is by its own nature extremely 
limited. We are witnesses to our brethren, not despots over 
men's minds. Our testimony must be confined to what has 
been revealed; we cannot add, we cannot diminish. Such 
is the duty of a witness, such is ours. All the Popes and 
bishops, all the councils which have ever existed, or which 
may exist, have not and cannot have the power of com- 
manding the humblest individual to believe one particle 
more on the subject of revelation than what they testify God 
to have taught. When they exhibit what has been taught 
"by heaven, man is bound to believe. Let them say: 
" Besides this which God has revealed, we are of opinion 
that you would do well to believe this, which He has not 
taught, but which we think a very good doctrine." He is 
free to act as he may think proper, his belief would not be 
faith, it would be receiving the opinions of men, not the 
teaching of heaven ; this mode of teaching is never used 
in our Church. The decisions of our councils are the 
exhibition of the original revelation, not the expression 01 
adopted opinions. So, too, the whole body of our Church 
cannot omit to teach any revealed truth ; she must teach 
all ; she must be a faithful witness ; neither adding, omit- 
ting, nor changing. 

In our mode of examining, although we believe the 
Founder of our Church made a promise of His divine 
guidance to protect our body from erring, we take all the 
natural means which will aid in the discovery of the original 
fact. We not only have known the testimony of those from 
whom we learned, and that of those with whom we associate ; 
l)ut we have the records of our Churches, we have the 

> It Is now, though it was not then, a dogma of the Church that the Pope, 
when speaking ex cathedra, or as the Pastor ternug, is infallible. Vids "Difficul- 
ties of Anglicans," Vol. II. 


documents of antiquity. We have the writings of our 
ancient, and venerable, and eminent bishops and doctors, 
coming from every age and from every nation. We have 
the decisions of former councils, \ve have the monuments 
which have been erected, the usages which have prevailed, 
the customs which continue, and when we take up the 
sacred volume of the Scriptures, we collate its passages 
with the results which we gather from those sources. The 
prelates of our several nations make this examination in 
every quarter of the globe, each testifies what he has found 
in conjunction with those of his vicinity who could aid him 
in his research, and thus we obtain testimony of the whole 
world respecting facts in which the world is deeply interested. 
Can it be slavery in me to bow to the decision of this 
tribunal? Frequently, questions which have been long since 
decided in this manner are revived. Our answer in those 
oases is very short : " This has been already determined." 
We are told this is limiting the operations and chaining 
down the freedom of the human mind. Perhaps it is. But 
if the proper use of the faculties be the discovery of truth, 
and that truth has been already discovered, what more is 
necessary? When investigations have been made, and results 
arrived at, why investigate still ? You go into court to 
defend your property, you have your titles fully investigated, 
judgment is given in your favor, it is put upon record; a 
new litigant calls upon you to go over the same ground ; 
will not the record of the judgment against his father protect 
you ? Or must you, because he choose to trouble you, burn 
that record, and join issue again? We quote the decisions 
of former times as proofs that investigation has been already 
made, and that a decision has long since been had. And 
what has once been found to have been revealed by God, 
cannot by any lapse of time cease to be revelation. If the 
fact shall have been once fully proved, that proof must be 
good always ; if a record thereof be made, that record is 
always evidence. 

A political difficulty has been sometimes raised here. If 


this infallible tribunal, which you profess yourselves bound 
to obey, should command you to overturn our government, 
and tell you that it is the will of God to have it new 
modelled, will you be bound to obey it? And how then 
can we consider those men to be good citizens who profess 
to owe obedience to a foreign authority to an authority 
not recognized in our Constitution to an authority which 
has excommunicated and deposed sovereigns, and which has 
absolved subjects and citizens from their bond of allegiance? 
Our answer to this is extremely simple and very plain ; 
it is, that we would not be bound to obey it that we 
recognize no such authority. I would not allow to the 
Pope, or to any bishop of our Church, outside this Union, 
the smallest interference with the humblest vote at our most 
insignificant ballot-box. He has no right to such interfer- 
ence. You must, from the view which I have taken, see 
the plain distinction between spiritual authority and a 
right to interfere in the regulation of human government 
or civil concerns. You have in your Constitution wisely 
kept them distinct and separate. It will be wisdom, and 
prudence, and safety to continue the separation. Your Con- 
stitution says that Congress shall have no power to restrict 
the free exercise of religion. Suppose your dignified body 
to-morrow attempted to restrict me in the exercise of that 
right; though the law, as it would be called, should pass 
your two houses and obtain the signature of the President, 
I would not obey it, because it would be no law, it would 
be an usurpation ; for you cannot make a law in violation 
of your Constitution you have no power in such a case. 
So, if that tribunal which is established by the Creator to 
testify to me what He has revealed, and to make the neces- 
sary regulations of discipline for the government of the 
Church, shall presume to go beyond that boundary which 
circumscribes its power, its acts are invalid ; my rights are 
not to be destroyed by its usurpation ; and there is no 
principle of my creed which prevents my using my natural 
right of proper resistance to any tyrannical usurpation. You 


have no power to interfere with my religious rights ; the 
tribunal of the Church has no power to interfere with my 
civil rights. It is a duty which every good man ought to 
discharge for his own and for the public benefit, to resist 
any encroachment upon either. We do not believe that 
God gave to the Church any power to interfere with our 
civil rights or our civil concerns. Christ our Lord refused 
to interfere in the division of the inheritance between two 
brothers, one of whom requested that interference. The 
civil tribunals of Judea were vested with sufficient authority 
for that purpose, and He did not transfer it to His Apostles. 
It must hence be apparent, that any idea of the Roman 
Catholics of these republics being in any way under the 
influence of any foreign ecclesiastical power, or indeed of 
auy Church authority, in the exercise of their civil rights, 
is a serious mistake. There is no class of our fellow- 
citizens more free to think and to act for themselves on the 
subject of our rights than we are; and I believe there is 
not any portion of the American family more jealous of 
foreign influence, or more ready to resist it. We have 
brethren of our Church in every part of the globe, under 
every form of government ; this is a subject upon which 
each of us is free to act as he thinks proper. We know 
of no tribunal in our Church which can interfere in our 
proceedings as citizens. Our ecclesiastical authority existed 
before our Constitution, is not affected by it; there is not 
in the world a constitution which it does not precede, with 
which it could not co-exist ; it has seen nations perish, 
dynasties decay, empires prostrate ; it has co-existed with 
all, it has survived them all, it is not dependent upon 
any one of them ; they may still change, and it will still 

It is again urged, that at least our Church is aristocratic, 
if not despotic, in its principles, and is not calculated for 
a republic that its spirit is opposed to that of repub- 
licanism. This objection cannot be seriously urged by any 
person who has studied history, nor by any person who 


is acquainted with our tenets. Look over the history of 
the world since the establishment of Christianity, and where 
have there been republics ? Have the objectors read the 
history of Italy ? A soil fertile in republics, and most 
devoted to our religion ! What was the religion of Wil- 
liam Tell? He was a Roman Catholic. Look not only to 
the Swiss republics, but take San Marino this little State, 
during centuries, the most splendid specimen of the purest 
democracy, and this democracy protected by our Popes- 
during these centuries. Men who make the assertions to 
which I have alluded cannot have read history. Amongst 
ourselves, what is the religion of the venerable Charles 
Carroll of Carrollton? Men who make these assertions 
cannot have read our Declaration of Independence. What 
was the religion of the good, the estimable, the beloved 
Doctor Carroll, our first Catholic Archbishop of Baltimore, 
the founder of our hierarchy, the friend of Washington, 
the associate of Franklin? Have those men been degraded 
in our Church because they aided in your struggle for the 
assertion of your rights, for the establishment of our glori- 
ous and our happy republic ? No they are the jewels 
which we prize, the ornaments of our Church, the patriots 
of our country. They and others, whom we count as our 
members, and esteem for their virtues, have been the inti- 
mate and faithful associates of many of our best patriots 
who have passed from our transitory scene, and of some 
who yet view in consolation our prosperity. What is the 
religion of Simon Bolivar? What the religion of the whole 
population of our republican sisters upon the southern con- 
tinent? We are always assailed by speculation. We always 
answer by facts. Have we been found traitors in your 
councils, unfaithful to your trust, cowards in your fields, 
or in correspondence with your enemies ? Yet we have 
been consulted for our prudence, confided in for our 
fidelity, enriched your soil with our blood, filled your decks 
with our energy; and though some of us might have wept 
at leaving the land of our ancestors because of the injus- 


tice of its rulers, we told our brothers who assailed you 
in the day of battle that we knew them not, and we 
adhered to those who gave to us a place of refuge and 
impartial protection. Shall we then be told that our religion 
is not the religion calculated for republics, though it will 
be found that the vast majority of republican States and 
of republican patriots have been, and even now are, Roman 
Catholic? It is true, ours is also the religion of a large 
portion of empires, and of kingdoms, and of principalities. 
The fact is so far an obvious reason, because it is the 
religion of the great bulk of the civilized world. Our 
tenets do not prescribe any form of government which the 
people may properly and regularly establish. No revelation 
upon which my eye has fallen, or which ever reached my 
ear, has taught me that the Almighty God commanded us 
to be governed by kings, or by emperors, or by princes, 
or to associate in republics. Upon this God has left us 
free to make our own selection. The decision upon the 
question of expediency as to the form of government for 
temporal or civil concerns, is one to be settled by society, 
and not by the Church. We therefore bind no nation or 
people to any special form ; the form which they may adopt 
lies not with us, but with themselves. What suits the 
genius and circumstances of one people might be totally 
unfit- for another ; hence, no special form of human gov- 
ernment for civil concerns has been generally established 
by divine authority. But the God of order who commands 
men to dwell together in peace, has armed the government 
which has been properly established by the principles of 
society, with power for the execution of the functions which 
are given by society to its administration. Whilst it con- 
tinues, within its due bounds, to discharge properly its 
constitutional obligations, it is the duty of each good mem- 
ber of society to concur in its support. He who would 
resist its proper authority, would in this case resist the 
ordinance of the God of peace and of order, and, as the 
Apostle says, would purchase damnation for himself. This 


principle applies alike to all forms of government properly 
established and properly administered to republics and to 
kingdoms alike. It is then a mistake to imagine that our 
Church has more congeniality to one species of civil gov- 
ernment .than to another ; it has been fitted by its Author, 
who saw the fluctuating state of civil rule, to exist independ- 
ently of any, and to be suited to all. Its own peculiar 
forms for its internal regulation may and do continue to 
be adhered to under every form of temporal rule. 

But is it not a tenet of our Church, that we must per- 
secute all those who differ from us? Has not our religion 
been propagated by the firebrand and by the sword? Is 
not the Inquisition one of its component parts ? Are not 
our boasted South American republics persecutors still? And 
in the code of our infallible Church have we not canons of 
persecution which we are conscientiously bound to obey and 
to enforce? Did not the great Lateran Council, in 1215, 
command all princes to exterminate all heretics ? If, then, 
we are not persecutors in fact, it is because we want the 
power, for it is plain that we do not want the disposition. 

I would humbly submit, that not one of these questions 
could be truly answered in the affirmative. The spirit of 
religion is that of peace and of mercy, not that of persecu- 
tion; yet men of every creed have persecuted their brethren 
under the pretext of religion. The great Founder of. our 
Church, at a very early period, checked this spirit in His 
Apostles. When some cities would not receive His doc- 
trine, they asked why He did not call down fire from 
heaven to destroy them ; but His calm and dignified rebuke 
was, that they knew not by what spirit they were led; it 
was the spirit of human passion assuming the garb of 
heavenly zeal. I know of no power given by God to any 
man, or to any body of men, in the Christian dispensa- 
tion, to inflict any penalty of a temporal description upon 
their fellow-men for mere religious error. If such error 
shall cause the violation of peace, or shall interfere with 
the well-being of society, temporal governments, being estab- 


lished to prevent such disorders, have their own inherent 
right, but not a religious commission, to interfere merely 
for that prevention. Each individual is responsible to God 
for his conduct in this regard ; to Him, and to Him only, 
we stand or fall. He commissioned the Church to teach 
His doctrine but He did not commission her to persecute 
those who would not receive it. He who beholds the evidence 
of truth and will not follow it, is inexcusable ; he who 
will not use his best exertions to obtain that evidence, is 
inexcusable ; he who having used his best exertions for 
that purpose, and having with the best intentions made a 
mistake in coming to his conclusion, is not a criminal 
because of that mistake. God alone, the searcher of our 
hearts, can clearly see the full accountability of each indi- 
vidual upon this head because each person must be 
accountable according to his opportunities. I feel that many 
and serious mistakes are made by my friends in this 
country. I know who are mistaken, but far be it from 
me to say that all who err are criminal. I have fre- 
quently asked myself whether, if I had had only the same 
opportunities of knowing the doctrine of my Church and 
its evidences that many of them have had, I would be 
what I now am. Indeed, it would be very extraordinary 
if I was. They labor under those mistakes, not through 
their ow r n fault in several instances ; and if the Roman 
Catholic Church were, in her doctrines and her practices, 
what they have been taught she is, I would not be a 
Roman Catholic. They imagine her to be what she is not ; 
and when they oppose what they believe her to be, it is 
not to her their opposition is really given. To God, and 
to Him alone, belongs it ultimately to discriminate between 
those who are criminal and those who are innocent in their 
error; and I look in vain through every record, in vain 
I listen to every testimony of my doctrine to discover any 
command to persecute, any power to inflict fine, or dis- 
qualification, or bodily chastisement upon those who are in 
mere religious error. It is no doctrine of the Roman 



Catholic Church ; I do not know that it is the doctrine 
of any Church calling itself Christian ; but, unfortunately, 
I know it has been practiced by some Roman Catholics, 
and it has been practiced in every Church which accused 
her of having had recourse thereto. I would then say it 
was taught by no Church ; it has been practiced in all. 
One great temptation to its exercise is the union of any 
Church with the State ; and religion has more frequently 
been but a pretext with statesmen for a political purpose, 
than the cause of persecution for zeal on its own behalf. 

Christ gave to His Apostles no commission to use the 
sword or the brand, and they went forth in the simplicity 
of their testimony, and the evidence of their miracles, and 
the power of their evidence, to convert the world. They 
gave freely their own blood to be shed for the sake of 
religion, but they shed not the blood of their opponents. 
Their associates and their successors followed their example, 
and were successful by that imitation. And the historian. 
Avho represents the chastisements of infidel barbarians, by 
Christian princes, for the protection of their own people, 
and the security of their own property, misleads the reader 
whom he would fain persuade, that it was done for the 
purposes of religion at the instigation of those who laid 
down their own lives in the conversion of those barbarians. 
It is true, indeed, that we cannot call error truth, nor style 
truth error ; it is true that we say there must continue to 
be an essential distinction between them ; it is true that 
we cannot belie our consciences, nor bear false witness to 
our neighbors, by telling them that we believe they adhere 
to the doctrines of Christ, when they contradict what we 
receive as those doctrines ; we cannot believe two contra- 
dictory propositions to be at the same time true. But such 
a declaration on our part does not involve as its consequence 
that we believe they ought to be persecuted. The Inquisi- 
tion is a civil tribunal of some States, not a portion of our 

We now come to examine what are called the persecuting 


laws of our Church. In the year 1215, at the Council of 
Lateran, certain heresies were condemned by the first canon; 
and amongst other things this canon recites as Catholic 
faith, in opposition to the errors of those whom it con- 
demned, that there is but one God, the Creator of all 
things, of spirits as well as bodies ; the Author of the Old 
Testament and of the Mosaic dispensation, equally as of 
the New Testament and of the Christian dispensation ; that 
He created not only the good angels, but also the devil 
and the bad angels, originally coming good from His hand, 
and becoming wicked by their own malice, etc. In its 
third canon it excommunicates those heretics, and declares 
them to be separated from the body of the Church. Then 
follows a direction, that the heretics so condemned are to 
be given up to the secular powers, or to their bailifls, to 
be duly punished. This direction continues to require of 
all bishops and others having authority, to make due search 
within their several districts for those heretics, and if they 
will not be induced to retract their errors, desires that 
they should be delivered over to be punished. There is 
an injunction then to all temporal lords to cleanse their 
dominions by exterminating those heretics; and if they will 
not, within a year from having been so admonished by 
the Church, cleanse their lands of this heretical filth, they 
shall be deprived if they have superior lords, and if they 
be superior lords and be negligent, it shall be the duty 
of the metropolitan and his provincial bishops to excom- 
municate them, and if any one of those lords paramount 
so excommunicated for this negligence shall continue during 
twelve months under the excommunication, the metropolitan 
shall certify the same to the Pope, who finding admonition 
useless, shall depose this prince, and absolve his subjects 
from their oaths of fealty, and deliver the territory over to 
Catholics who, having exterminated the heretics, shall remain 
in peaceable possession. 

This is the most formidable evidence adduced against the 
position which I have laid down, that it is not a doctrine 


of our Church, that we are bound to persecute those who 
differ from us in belief. I trust that I shall not occupy 
very much of your time in showing that this enactment 
does not in any way weaken that assertion. I shall do 
so, by satisfying you that this is a special law for a par- 
ticular case ; and also by convincing you that it is not a 
canon of the Church respecting any of those points in 
which we admit her infallibility; nor indeed a canon of 
the Church. 

The doctrines condemned in this first canon originated in 
Syria, touched v lightly at the islands of the Archipelago, 
settled down in Bulgaria, and spread into the south of 
Europe, but were principally received in the vicinity of 
Albi, in France. The persons condemned held the Mani- 
chsean principle of there being two creators of the universe ; 
one a good being, the author of the New Testament, the 
creator of good angels, and generally of spiritual essences ; 
the other an evil being, the creator of bodies, the author 
of the Mosaic dispensation, and generally of the Old Testa- 
ment. They stated that marriage was unlawful, and co- 
operation with the principle of evil was criminal. The 
consequences to society were of the very worst description, 
immoral, dismal, and desolating. The Church examined the 
doctrine, condemned it as heretical, and cut off those who 
held or abetted it from her communion. Here, according 
to the principles which I have maintained before you, her 
power ended. Beyond this we claim no authority; the 
Church, by divine right, we say, infallibly testifies what 
doctrines Christ has revealed, and by the same right, in the 
same manner, decides that what contradicts this revelation 
is erroneous ; but she has no divine authority to make a 
law which shall strip of their property, or consign to the 
executioner, those whom she convicts of error. The doctrine 
of our obligation to submit docs not extend to force us to 
submit to a usurpation ; and if the Church made a law upon 
a subject beyond her commission for legislation, it would be 
invalid ; there would be no proper claim for our obedience ; 


usurpation does not create a right. The council could by 
right make the doctrinal decision ; but it had no right to 
make the temporal enactment; and where there exists no 
right to legislate on one side, there is no obligation of 
obedience on the other. If this was then a canon of the 
Church, it was not one in making which she was acting 
within her constitutional jurisdiction, it was a usurpation of 
temporal government, and the doctrine of infallibility does 
not bear upon it 

Every document respecting this council, the entire of the 
evidence respecting it, as well as the very mode of -framing 
the enactments, prove that it was a special law regarding 
a particular case. The only persons whose errors were con- 
demned at that council were those whom I have described. 
The general principle of legal exposition restraining the 
application of penal enactments must here have full weight, 
and will restrain the application of the penalty to the only 
criminals brought within its view. But the evidence is still 
more confirmed by the particular words of definite meaning, 
this and filth, which were specially descriptive of only those 
persons ; the first by its very nature, the second by the 
nature of their crime ; and the continued exposition of the 
enactment restrained its application to the special case, 
though frequently attempts have been made by individuals 
to extend its application, not in virtue of the statute, but 
in virtue of analogy. It would then be improperly forcing 
its construction to say that its operation was to be general, 
as it evidently was made only for a particular case. 

In viewing the preamble to this council, as well as from 
our knowledge of history, we discover that this was not 
merely a council of the Church, but it was also a congress 
of the civilized world. The state of the times rendered 
such assemblages not only usual but necessary; and each 
legislative body did its own business by its own authority ; 
and very generally the subjects which were decided upon by 
one body in one point of view, came under the consideration 
of the other assembly in a different point of view, and their 


separate decisions were engrossed upon a joint record. Some- 
times they were preserved distinct and separate; but copyists, 
for their own convenience, brought together all the articles 
regarding the same subject, from what source soever they 
were obtained. Such was precisely the case in the instance 
before us. There were present on this occasion, by them- 
selves or by their legates, the King of Sicily, Emperor-elect 
of the Romans, the Emperor of the East, the King of France, 
the King of England, the King of Arragon, the King of 
Jerusalem, the King of Cyprus, many other kings, lords 
paramount, sovereign States, and princes. Several of the 
bishops were princes or barons. In the ecclesiastical council, 
the third canon terminated exactly in one sentence, which 
was that of the excommunication or separation from the 
Church of those whom the first canon had condemned, 
whatever name or names they might assume ; because they 
had in several places several appellations, and were continu- 
ally dividing off and changing names as they separated. 
The duty and the jurisdiction of the council came to this, 
and the ancient records give no more as the portion of its 
enactments. But the congress of the temporal powers then 
made the subsequent part as their enactment; and thus this 
penal and civil regulation was not an act of the council, 
but an act of the congress. It is not a canon concerning 
the doctrine of the Church, nor indeed is it by any means 
a canon, though the copyists have added it to the canon as 
regarding the very same subject; and as confessedly the 
excommunication in the third canon regarded only the 
special case of those particular heretics, the addition of the 
penal enactment to this particular canon is confirmatory 
evidence that those who added it knew that the penalty in 
the one case was only co-extensive with the excommunication 
in the other. 

Having thus seen that this canon of the Council of 
Lateran was not a doctrinal decision of our Church estab- 
lishing the doctrine of persecution and commanding to per- 
secute, but that it was a civil enactment by the temporal 


power against persons whom they looked upon as criminals, 
it is more the province of the politician or of the jurist than 
of the divine to decide upon its propriety. I may, how- 
ever, be permitted to say that in my opinion the existence 
of civilized society required its enactment, though no good 
man can approve of several abuses which were committed 
under the pretext of its execution, nor can any rational 
man pretend that because of the existence of a special law 
for a particular purpose every case which may be thought 
analagous to that for which provision was made is to be 
illegally subjected to those provisions. 

We are now arrived at the place where we may easily 
find the origin and the extent of the papal power of 
deposing sovereigns and of absolving subjects from their 
oaths of allegiance. To judge properly of facts, we must 
.know their special circumstances, not their mere outline. 
The circumstances of Christendom were then widely different 
from those in which we now are placed. Europe was then 
under the feudal system. I have seldom found a writer, 
not a Catholic, who, in treating of that age and that 
system, has been accurate, and who has not done us very 
serious injustice. But a friend of mine, who is a respect- 
able member of your honorable body, has led me to read 
Hallam's account of it ; and I must say that I have sel- 
dom met with so much candor and, what I call, so much 
truth. From reading his statement of that system it will be 
plainly seen that there existed amongst the Christian poten- 
tates a sort of federation, in which they bound themselves 
by certain regulations, and to the observance of those they 
were held not merely by their oaths, but by various pen- 
alties. Sometimes they consented that the penalty should 
be the loss of their station. It was of course necessary 
to ascertain that the fact existed before its consequences 
should be declared to follow ; it was also necessary to 
stablish some tribunal to examine and to decide as to the 
existence of the fact itself, and to proclaim that existence. 
Amongst independent sovereigns there was no superior, and 


it was natural to fear that mutual jealousy would create 
great difficulty in selecting a chief; and that what orig- 
inated in concession might afterwards be claimed as a right. 
They were, however, all members of one Church, of which 
the Pope was the head, and in this respect, their common 
father; and by universal consent it was regulated that he 
should examine, ascertain the fact, proclaim it, and declare 
its consequences. Thus he did in reality possess the power 
of deposing monarchs, and of absolving their subjects from 
oaths of fealty, but only those monarchs who were mem- 
bers of that federation, and in the cases legally provided 
for, and by their concession, not by divine right, and 
during the term of that federation and the existence of his 
commission. He governed the Church by divine right, he 
deposed kings and absolved subjects from their allegiance 
by human concession. I preach the doctrines of my Church 
by divine right, but I preach from this spot not by that 
right but by the permission of others. 

It is not then a doctrine of our Church that the Pope 
has been divinely commissioned either to depose kings or 
to interfere with republics, or to absolve the subjects of 
the former from their allegiance, or interfere with the civil 
concerns of the latter. When the persecuted English Cath- 
olics, under Elizabeth, found the Pope making an unfounded 
claim to this right, and upon the shadow of that un- 
founded right making inroads upon their national independ- 
ence, by declaring who should or who should not be their 
temporal ruler, they well showed how little they regarded 
his absolving them from their allegiance, for they volun- 
teered their services to protect their liberties, which their 
Catholic ancestors had labored to establish. And she well 
found that a Catholic might safely be entrusted with the 
admiralty of her fleet, and that her person was secure 
amongst her disgraced Catholic nobility and gentry and their 
persecuted adherents ; although the Court of Rome had 
issued its bull of absolution, and some divines were found 
who endeavored to prove that what originated in voluntary 


concession of States and monarchs was derived from divine 
institution. If then Elizabeth, of whose character I would 
not wish in this place to express my opinion, was safe 
amidst those whom she persecuted for their faith, even 
when the head of their Church absolved them from alle- 
giance, and if at such a moment they flocked round her 
standard to repel Catholic invaders who came with conse- 
crated banners, and that it is admitted on all hands that 
in so doing they violated no principle of doctrine or of 
discipline of their Church, as we all avow ; surely America 
need not fear for the fidelity of her Catholic citizens, whom 
she cherishes and whom she receives to her bosom with 
affection and shelters from the persecution of others. Neither 
will any person attempt to establish an analogy between 
our federation and that of feudalism, to argue that the 
Pope can do amongst us what he did amongst European, 
potentates under circumstances widely different. 

It has been frequently objected to us, that our Church 
has been more extensively persecuting than any other. This- 
is not the place to enter into a comparison of atrocities ; 
but I will assert, that when weighed against each other 
our scale will be found light indeed. Did any person think 
proper to conjure up the victims from the grave, I would 
engage to produce evidence of the inflictions upon us in 
abundance, until the hairs of our hearers should stand on 
end, and humanity interpose to prevent the recital. But 
the crimes of individuals or of assemblies are not the doc- 
trines of a Church. 

I had other subjects which I desired to treat of in your 
presence, but I feel I have trespassed too long upon your 
patience. Let us go back to our view of religion. We 
may now say that all the law and the prophets can be 
reduced to the two great commandments as our blessed 
Saviour gave them : Thou shalt love the Lord thy God 
with thy whole heart, and thy whole soul, and thy whole 
mind, and with all thy strength ; this is the first and 
the greatest. Love is affectionate attachment founded upon 


esteem. We seek to know the will of those whom we love 
that we may bring ours to be in conformity therewith. The 
will of God is, that we should seek to know what He 
teaches, because, indeed, He would not have taught with- 
out desiring that we should learn. Our Saviour Himself 
tells His disciples, if they love Him they will keep His 
Word. The proof, then, of our love is not to be exhibited 
in our mere declaration, it is to be found in the manifes- 
tation of our assiduity to know what our Creator has 
taught, that it may be the rule of our practice that we 
may believe His declarations, obey His injunctions, and 
adhere to His institutions. As His knowledge surpasses 
ours, so His declarations may regard facts beyond our 
comprehension, and our faith be thus built upon the evi- 
dence of His Word for things which we have not seen, 
and His promises exhibit to us the substance of what we 
hope to enjoy, because He has pledged His veracity, not 
because our reason makes it manifest. It is our duty to 
love Him so as to be zealous for discovering what He has 
taught, that we may pay to Him the homage of our 
understanding, as well by its exertion as by its submission. 
Let me then exhort you to this love. Investigate for the 
purpose of obtaining the knowledge of truth, and then pay 
the homage of your will by determining to act in con- 
formity with what you shall have discovered. Submit your 
affections to His law, bring your passions in subjection 
thereto. Of ourselves we are weak, in His grace we can 
become strong. His institutions have been established, that 
through them we might be strengthened in that grace. It 
is therefore our duty, as it is our interest, to have recourse 
to them. Reason, religion, wisdom, which is the perfection 
of both, lead us to this conclusion. It necessarily, then, 
is incumbent on us to search for where those instutitions 
are to be found. 

The second commandment is like the first : Thou shalt 
love thy neighbor as thyself for the sake of God. The 
Apostle asks us, How can a man say that he loves God 


whom he hath not seen, and hate his neighbor whom he 
seeth ? and that neighbor is made in the likeness of God. 
The Saviour commands us even to love our enemies, to 
<lo good to those who hate us, and to pray for those who 
calumniate and persecute us. Nothing can excuse us from 
the discharge of this duty, the observance of this great 
commandment. No difference of religion can form a pre- 
text for non-compliance. Religion, that holy name, has too 
often been abused for this end, that man might flatter 
himself with having the sanction of heaven for the indul- 
gence of a bad passion. In these happy and free States 
we stand upon the equal ground of religious right ; we 
may freely love and bear with each other, and exhibit to 
Europe a contrast to her jealousies in our affection. By 
inquiry we shall correct many mistakes, by which our 
feelings have been embittered ; we shall be more bound 
together in amity, as we become more intimate ; and may 
our harmony and union here below produce that peace and 
good will emblematic of our enjoyment of more lasting 
happiness in a better world. 


IN tracing the history of nations, the philosopher discovers 
the basis upon which he must raise his general observations, 
because those observations are usually but results drawn from 
a multitude of facts. For this purpose, the history of the 
savage is in some degree as necessary as the history of civil- 
ized man; because in the one we see the development of our 
principles and passions unrestrained by the rules of civiliza- 
tion, and in the other we find the consequences of those 
rules. Thus, the proper aim of philosophy being the dis- 
covery of that wisdom which will procure human happiness, 
the history of the human race is amongst the best studies 
of the philosopher. 

But as man is an immortal being, whose existence continues 
beyond the span of his sojourn upon this earth, and who will 
remain in his new state during eternity, the philosopher 
ought to inquire in the history of the human race for those 
events which will tend proximately or remotely to elucidate 
the important concerns of his perpetual happiness ; and 
several of those are to be found in the religion of nations. 
Leaving for a time the region of revelation, let us examine 
some of the facts that history presents to our view in those 
times and places wherein no claim is made, upon sufficient 
grounds, to supernatural instruction. 

A writer who, by his pleasing style and bold manner, 
drew after liim for a time, not only the light and thoughtless 
body of English readers, but even many of those who were 
distinguished for intellect, has by a fallacious theory diverted 
the attention of several men of genius and ability from fact 

' An Essay read at a public meeting: of the Literary and Philosophical Society 
of Charleston, 8. C., at the City Hall, on Wednesday, January 10, 1827. 



to speculation ; leaving the beaten paths of earth, he rose on 
the wing of imagination and caused his followers to soar 
above the plain way of events into the clouds of conjecture ; 
and, substituting probability for evidence, he next assumed 
possibility for fact, and thus created amusing visions for 
established history. From what had thus been given in 
place of the proceedings of our predecessors he drew con- 
clusions which were perfectly logical, and nothing was 
requisite to uphold their truth, save that which was the 
original deficiency, namely, the correctness of the statement 
upon which they rested. But a more discriminating age 
is detecting the aberrations of Mr. Hume, and we, too, may 
add our little examination to the general fund of evidence 
from which more useful materials may be procured by 
those who build their systems upon observation and not 
upon imagination. 

One of this gentleman's theories was, that polytheism was 
the original religion of men, and that this original religion 
was created by an affrighted fancy. Yet even for this he 
deserves not the credit of originality, as a pagan poet had 
been amongst his leaders in the assertion ; and with as little 
support from former fact, as might be easily seen. Mr. 
Hume proceeds from this assumption to state, that as man 
became enlightened, his reason corrected the superstition of 
his terror, and brought him to acknowledge the unity and 
supremacy of the Deity; hence, he would conclude, that 
man has no knowledge of religion except from the progress 
of his reason, and that the notion of revealed religion is a 
delusion. If the facts were as the essayist assumed, his 
conclusions would be good. But if history will destroy the 
assumed correctness of his statements, his argument has no 
foundation. Hence, the investigation becomes to all men a 
matter of importance, and it would appear to be the duty 
of each nation to bear testimony to the facts which come 
under its own view. 

If man had been originally a savage, who reasoned him- 
self into civilization, and as he became civilized cast 


away his superstitions and religious errors, of which poly- 
theism was the most absurd ; the savage who chases the 
deer through our wilderness and who is by the opponents of 
revelation said to invoke the Great Spirit, who is one and 
impervious to the senses, must surpass in his civilization 
the philosophers of Greece, the merchants of Egypt and of 
Tyre, and the senate and the people of Rome. " Red- 
Jacket " is superior to Solon or to Cicero, " The Mad 
Tiger" is preferable to Socrates or to Virgil. Horace and 
Pliny must bow to the superior wisdom of " The Sleep- 
ing Wolf" and of "The Cat that Watches." Besides the 
absurdity of such consequences, which flow legitimately from 
the assumed principle and supposed fact, we have in safe 
history undoubted evidence that theism was man's first 
religion, from which he degenerated, and that the savage was- 
not his original state. Sir William Jones in his essay on 
the gods of Greece, Italy, and India, very rationally eluci- 
dates the first of these positions, but I have seen it far 
better treated and upon a more extensive scale by a French 
writer of the last century. The proof of the latter posi- 
tion cannot be mistaken or overlooked by any attentive 
reader of ancient history, and the writer to whom I have 
alluded finely shows the progress of tribes to barbarism in 
the early ages of the world. When we cast our eyes upon 
Egypt, Persia, Greece, and the northwestern coast of Africa r 
we need scarcely recollect the shade which passed over 
Europe to confirm in our minds the truth that a civilized 
people may degenerate, and that the human mind is not 
steadily and uniformly progressive. There is a delusive sem- 
blance of philosophy which constructs theories by the force of 
imagination, and then regulates the nature of occurences 
to harmonize with these preconcerted systems. There i 
also a duty which even to the philosopher is not always 
easy : that of reconciling minor facts to a principal occur- 
rence of whose truth he has convincing evidence. In this 
case, candor, patience, and industry will generally insure 
success in our attempt to remove the apparent incompatibil- 


ities, which at first sight startle the inexperienced, prevent 
the progress of the idle, and give occasion to the false 
conclusions of the thoughtless. 

Of this description is the difficulty which presents itself 
when we view the varieties of the human race, in conjunc- 
tion with the fact that all those beings are the descendants- 
of Noe. The difference of color, the difference of structure, 
the difference of religion, the difference of customs, and the 
separation of continents, have been obstacles to the admis- 
sion of the common origin at a period so comparatively 
recent. I shall not touch upon the first two topics, but L 
shall advert a little to the others; though the facts upon 
which my observations will rest shall not be all adduced 
in the present essay. 

I wish to make a passing remark upon the theory of Mr. 
Hume, before I enter more deeply upon my subject. We 
know that our red brethren are far from being civilized.. 
^Ve know that the inhabitants of Greece were much polished ;. 
that the Romans excelled us in many of the accomplishments, 
of the social state. Yet those Greeks and Romans were 
polytheists, and our Indian is said to be a theist. If the 
Indian, by the exercise of his reason, rose from polytheism, 
he must have risen from the barbarous state of the Greek 
and Roman, to his own state of superior civilization, or he 
has in his rude state preserved the original religion of his- 
fathers, and thus their original religion was theism. No 
person will venture to make the first assertion. Mr. Hume 
would not permit us to make the second. But is the name 
of any man to impede our progress from the premises 
to a conclusion? In truth, they who declaim against the 
vassalage of the human mind to religion, will be found 
upon inquiry to be its worst tyrants. But, although the 
discovery might not be made upon our continent, to the 
antiquarian this exhibition is not new. Nations have been 
found when the Roman eagle soared in his loftiest flight 
and the Roman people bowed in their most degrading 
idolatry, who would have been called barbarian, and these 


people, if not theists, had very limited polytheism. The 
Irish druid is said by many antiquarians to have been a 
theist. Evidence of his religion remains, but no evidence 
has been exhibited to show that his religion regarded more 
than one God; though that God was Baal. The Persian 
worshiped fire, yet it is not so clearly established that 
his adoration was always paid to the element and not to 
the Deity of whom earthly and celestial fire were only 

If our opponent argues that the diversity of religion 
creates suspicion of a diversity of origin, he must allow 
the force of the principle that similarity of religious belief 
and worship seems to indicate a common origin. Indeed, 
though neither is fully evident, the latter is much the 
more probable. Few centuries have elapsed since European 
Christians were members of a common Church, and had 
almost universal singleness of faith ; into ' how many sects 
are they now divided, and how many families are so 
opposed in belief as that they who are united by the 
closest ties of nature are at perfect variance upon the score 
of religion? But if we discover a similarity between the 
religious observances of the American, and the Persian, and 
the Hindoo, we may more naturally conclude that they 
have sprung from a common stock, whence they brought 
those observances, or had a common teacher, or some inter- 
course by means of which one learned from the other; 
because it would contradict our experience to assert that 
this agreement is the result of accident. 

The French writer, to whom I have before alluded, 
traces the human family from its renewal after the deluge 
through its subsequent migrations, and finds in climate, in 
soil, in customs produced by special necessities and by 
occurrences of which we have in several instances good his- 
torical evidence, sufficient cause for the variance of worship 
and the origin of polytheism. The mythology of several 
portions of mankind is in admirable accordance with what ' 
he lays down. Thus, the Egyptian found in the very leek 


of his garden a portion of that great spirit which ani- 
mated the universe, and which poured fertility upon the 
land, when from the hidden recess of his dwelling he com- 
municated himself through the medium of water. The Per- 
sian beheld his glories in the sun, and the heat of fire was 
the sacred mode through which his blessings were bestowed. 
In Scandinavia he spoke in the whirlwind, and passed 
along creating the solemnity of terror, and acknowledged 
by the howlings of the invisible spirits of the forest ; his 
abode was on the summit of the rocks, or in the recesses' 
of caverns, and his rage urged on the desolating flood; far 
from exhibiting his beneficence by water, he gave it in his 
wrath. Thus, the Scandinavian abhorred what the Egyptian 

I believe, then, that to the calm and unbiased investi- 
gator of ancient history and of the customs and religious 
observances of those nations which have not been blessed 
with the light of revelation, it will appear that the original 
religion of mankind was theism, and that the several systems 
of polytheism and idolatry will appear to have arisen from 
various circumstances in different places, joined to the cor- 
ruption of man's heart and the feebleness of his intellect ; 
and that many kinds of superstition having thus arisen 
amongst a people whose ancestors had a common religion 
prescribing the worship of one God, the characters of those 
several superstitions were originally unlike, but having once 
been established in the primitive nations, the observances 
would continue with some alterations in those nations and 
in their colonies, and hence, that a striking similitude of 
religious observances between two tribes would lead to the 
conclusion that they had a common origin. 

Of course the resemblance must be striking, and the 
coincidence, however exact, can form but one link of the 
chain which would bind them in a common origin. Upon 
this subject I shall close my observations with an extract 
from a dissertation by Sir William Jones, in whose senti- 
ments, as here given, I fully concur : 


"We cannot justly conclude, by arguments preceding the 
proof of facts, that one idolatrous people must have borrowed 
their deities, rites, and tenets from another ; since gods of 
all shapes and dimensions may be framed by the boundless 
powers of imagination, or by the fraud and follies of men, 
in countries never connected. But when features of resem- 
blance, too strong to have been accidental, are observable 
in different systems of polytheism, without fancy or prejudice 
to color them and improve the likeness, we can scarcely 
help believing that some connection has immemorially sub- 
sisted between the several nations who have adopted them. 
It is my design in this essay to point out such a resemblance 
between the popular worship of the old Greeks and Italians, 
and that of the Hindoos ; nor can there be any room to 
doubt of a great similarity between their strange religions 
and those of Egypt, China, Persia, Phcenice, Syria ; to 
which perhaps we may safely add some of the southern 
kingdoms, and even islands of America; while the Gothic 
system, which prevailed in the northern regions of Europe, 
was not merely similar to that of Greece and Italy, but 
almost the same in another dress, with an embroidery of 
images apparently Asia-tic. From all these, if it can be 
satisfactorily proved, we may infer a union or affinity between 
the most distinguished inhabitants of the primitive world 
at the time when they deviated, as they did too early deviate, 
from the rational adoration of the only true God." 

The learned and philosophical author compiled the essay 
in which this is found in the year 1784. In his discourse 
"On the Origin of Families and Nations," delivered before 
the Asiatic Society in Calcutta, on the 23d of February, 
1792, he states as a corollary from testimonies adduced 
in six previous annual discourses, the great likelihood "that 
the tribes of Mish, Cush and Rama settled in Africa and 
India; while some of them, having improved the art of 
sailing, passed from Egypt, Phcenice, Phrygia, into Italy 
and Greece, which they found thinly peopled by former 
emigrants, of whom they supplanted some tribes, and united 


themselves with others ; whilst a swarm from the same hive 
moved by a northerly course into Scandinavia, and another 
by the head of the Oxus, and through the passes of the 
Imaus into Cashghcr and Eighur, Khata and Khoten, as 
far as the territories of Chin and Tancut, where letters have 
been used and arts immemorially cultivated; nor is it 
unreasonable to believe that some of them found their way 
from the eastern isles into Mexico and Peru, where traces 
were discovered of rude literature and mythology, analogous 
to those of Egypt and India." 

As my aim is to excite my associates and fellow-citizens 
to investigate the history of the aboriginal inhabitants of our 
rising and prosperous country, I may be again permitted 
to make an interesting extract from the work of the great 
President of the Asiatic Society, as it will exhibit in that 
elder continent the attainment of a result which I am con- 
vinced must always be found the consequence of impartial, 
and judicious, and truly philosophical investigation. I would 
desire to urge forward on this continent those who have 
more leisure, more opportunity, and better qualifications than 
I can pretend to. I would entreat of them fully to investi- 
gate the history of a race too quickly, I fear, about to 
disappear from the land of their fathers, and to place on 
record those facts whose truth could be established, in the 
hope, and indeed with the confidence, that in America the 
result would be the same as it has been found in Asia, 
as is testified and proved by Sir William Jones. 

" In the first place, we cannot surely deem it an incon- 
siderable advantage, that all our historical researches have 
confirmed the Mosaic accounts of the primitive world ; and 
our testimony on that subject ought to have the greater 
weight, because, if the result of our observations had been 
totally different, we should nevertheless have published them, 
not indeed with equal pleasure, but with equal confidence, 
for truth is mighty, and whatever be its consequence, must 
always prevail. But independently of our interest in corrob- 
orating the multiplied evidences of revealed religion, we 


could scarcely gratify our minds with a more useful and 
rational entertainment than the contemplation of those won- 
derful revolutions in kingdoms and States, which have 
happened within little more than four thousand years ; 
revolutions almost as fully demonstrative of an all-ruling 
Providence, as the structure of the universe and the final 
causes, which are discernible in its whole extent and even 
in its minutest parts. Figure to your imagination a moving 
picture of that eventful period, or rather a succession of 
crowded scenes rapidly changed. Three families migrate 
in different courses from one region, and in about four 
centuries establish very distant governments and various 
modes of society. Egyptians, Indians, Goths, Phenicians, 
Celts, Greeks, Latins, Chinese, Peruvians, Mexicans, all, 
sprung from the same immediate stem, appear to start nearly 
at one time, and occupy at length those countries, to which 
they have given or from which they have derived their 
names. In twelve or thirteen hundred years more, the 
Greeks overrun the land of their forefathers, invade India, 
conquer Egypt, and aim at universal dominion. But the 
Romans appropriate to themselves the whole empire of 
Greece, and carry their arms into Britain, of which they 
speak with haughty contempt. The Goths, in the fullness 
of time, break to pieces the unwieldy colossus of Roman 
power, and seize on the whole of Britain, except its wild 
mountains ; but even those wilds become subject to other 
invaders of the same Gothic lineage. During all these 
transactions, the Arabs possess both coasts of the Red Sea, 
subdue the old seat of their first progenitors, and extend 
their conquests on one side, through Africa into Europe 
itself and on another beyond the borders of India, part of 
which they annex to their flourishing empire. In the same 
interval, the Tartars, widely diffused over the rest of the 
globe, swarm into the northeast, whence they rush to com- 
plete the reduction of Constantine's beautiful domains, to 
subjugate China, to raise in these Indian realms a dynasty 
splendid and powerful, and to ravage, like the two other 


families, the devoted regions of Iran. By this time the 
Mexicans and the Peruvians, with many races of adven- 
turers variously intermixed, have peopled the continent and 
isles of America, which the Spaniards, having restored their 
old government in Europe, discover, and in part overcome. 
But a colony from Britain, of which Cicero ignorantly 
declared that it contained nothing valuable, obtain the pos- 
session, and finally the sovereign dominion of extensive 
American districts, whilst other British subjects acquire a 
subordinate empire in the finest provinces in India, which 
the victorious troops of Alexander were unwilling to attack. 
This outline of human transactions, as far as it includes the 
limits of Asia, we can only hope to fill up, to strengthen 
and to color by the help of Asiatic literature ; for in history 
as in law, we must not follow streams, when we may inves- 
tigate fountains, nor admit any secondary proof, where 
primary evidence is attainable." 

The discourse from which this is extracted was delivered 
on the 28th of February, 1793. Little more than thirty 
years have elapsed since that period, and how many aston- 
ishing revolutions have occurred ! Take the map of Europe 
as it then was and compare it with what is now placed 
before the world. Events which might be spread over the 
pages which history allots to centuries are crowded within 
a portion of the tablet which is given to individual recol- 
lection. Crowns are immersed in the blood of those whom 
they were given to decorate. Wild anarchy celebrates her 
orgies amid the mangled corpses of a devoted nation, and 
dares to pollute the sacred name of freedom with her 
blaspheming lips. The very divisions of time are changed 
to attempt the obliteration of that first institution of the 
Creator, which gives rest to the weary and hope to the 
desponding. The vilest outcasts of the more virtuous sex 
are placed upon the altars of the living God for homage of 
those men who boasted that they were to illuminate a 
benighted world. Congregated potentates of Europe are 
resisted successfully by a stripling to whom this nation 


entrusts her destinies; almost each of her capitals sees him 
seated above her throne, and almost every one of her 
monarchs is the creature of his will, until the blasphemy 
has ceased and the impiety is removed. Then he who was 
in himself a dynasty becomes a captive and perishes in 
prison as singular in its construction as was the career of 
him whose ashes it contains. 

How rapid also has been the progress of this western 
hemisphere within that little time ! Here too the work of 
centuries has been accomplished in less than half a century. 
Britain, it is true, possesses one million of subjects on our 
northern frontier ; can these be the American districts of 
which the president of the Asiatic Society boasted that 
Britain had the sovereignty? At the time of the delivery 
of his discourse, perhaps some lurking hope remained that 
the old colonies would request the protection of their former 
stepmother. But that hope has long since been extinguished, 
and forever ; where three millions of subjects had been in 
a state of political dependence, and several of them under 
religious disqualification, now over ten millions of freemen 
enjoy all the advantages of civil and religious liberty: their 
flag is seen on every ocean, and their consuls reside in 
every port. The Spaniard too has lost his dominion, and 
on the south as in the west, the progress of freedom and 
of improvement is indeed astonishing. And may I be 
permitted to add the expression of my hope that " the 
beautiful domains of Constantino" may receive, from heaven 
and from earth, sufficient aid to be at length successful in 
their effort to expel the drones of the northeastern hive? 

But what has been my object in this apparent digression? 
To show that when we calculate upon the progress of events 
by the progress of time, we are frequently led to erroneous 
conclusions. Frequently indeed appearing to accelerate his 
pace, he seems to outstrip events, and a century would, by 
some whose system of analogy is too perfect for an imperfect 
state of being, be charged as erroneously inserted. At other 
times the philosophist, though the evidence of facts was 


perfect, would by speculation prove to his own satisfaction, 
and to the amusement of others, that it was impossible for 
these occurrences to have taken place within the period 
assigned in the record. He would thus treat history with 
as little mercy as Procrustes treated his guests. 

I would propose that such speculations should be alto- 
getlier laid aside, that we should endeavor to follow that 
plan upon which the Asiatic Society proceeded, that we 
should in America endeavor to discover, and to discuss, and 
to preserve those facts connected with the aborigines of our 
country, which might tend not only to exhibit much curious 
and interesting information to gratify the public, but which 
would greatly tend to elucidate subjects which are of great 
importance to the whole human race. 

My present object is to lay before you some general 
observations which 1 think arise from the view of facts 
respecting the religion of the aboriginal possessors of this 
vast continent. Those which I shall exhibit are few and 
deficient of interest in themselves, but they may prove in 
their result very useful to lead us to rational conclusions 
as to the origin of this people. I am aware that my 
information is extremely limited upon this subject, but 
probably some of the facts upon which my observations 
rest are not very generally known, and my effort will at 
all events, I trust, produce the one good effect of eliciting 
for the public benefit much more extensive and interesting 
details than I have had the leisure or the opportunity to 
collect. The facts to which I refer are testified by the 
missionaries of the Roman Catholic Church, and are such 
as have fallen under their own observation during their 
residence in the midst of the tribes whose language they 
learned and whose customs they carefully observed, that 
they might be able to discharge the solemn duty in which 
they were engaged. The relators are persons who had 
received the most liberal education, and who voluntarily 
relinquished all the advantages of civilized society, and 
buried themselves in the depths of the wilderness, exposed 


to every privation and affliction, for the sake of bearing 
the testimony of truth to a neglected portion of their 
brethren ; they foresaw the probability of martyrdom, and 
it was not unfrequently the recompense of their laborious 
devotion to the Gospel of truth. Their letters were not 
intended generally for publication, but were the official 
communications of what was their observation of the progress 
which they made, transmitted to their superiors. Thus we 
may safely look upon them as good witnesses, being com- 
petent and faithful. 

In a former part of this essay, I used the assertion of 
those who, whilst they denied the truth of revelation, 
asserted that our Indian tribes were pure theists, who 
worshiped only one God. In order to refute their assumed 
principle, and to destroy that theory which they have sub- 
stituted for history, I now come to the examination of the 
questions : Is the religion of the Indian tribes of America 
pure theism, or are they idolaters? Have they any religious 
system? And if they have, what is its leading characteristic? 

Father Sebastian Rasles, a Jesuit, who was slain at 
Narantsonak, an Indian settlement, in what is now the State 
of Maine, on the 23d of August, 1724, left France in July, 
1689, for the missions of Canada, and arrived on the 13th 
of October, in the same year, at Quebec, when he imme- 
diately commenced the study of the Indian languages. 
Father de la Chasse, of the same society, and superior of 
the missions of New France, writes of him in the month 
of October, subsequent to his death : " We were surprised 
at the facility with which he could acquire languages, and 
the application with which he sought the knowledge of the 
dialects of the different tribes. There is not a dialect on 
this continent of which he had not some tincture. Besides 
the language of the Abnakis, which he spoke during a long 
period, he knew also the Huron tongue, that of the Ottaways 
and that of the Illinois ; he had served with great fruit in 
the several missions where they are used." 

In the month of October, preceding his death, Father 


Rasles wrote to his brother a very long letter, giving an 
outline of his labors and observations, during upwards of 
thirty years' continual residence in one or other of the 
tribes which occupied the range of country from Kaskaskia 
to Lake Superior, and skirting the then British settlements 
round on the north to the mouth of the Kennebec. In 
this he remarks, that he found the general principle of 
their superstition was the same as that which he discovered 
amongst the Ottowas. This people, he states, worship Man- 
itous, and the description which he gives of this worship 
bears a strong similitude to that which we find amongst 
pagan nations, save that their worship was not generally 
public and social, but private and paid by them individ- 
ually. Though they speak of spirits, yet being acquainted 
only with sensible objects, especially the animals found in 
their country, they imagine that in these animals, or rather 
in their skins or plumage, there exist Manitous, or Genii, 
or spirits who govern the universe, and are the masters- 
of life and death. They call the great spirit of all beasts- 
and birds Oussakita, or, as we would pronounce it, Was- 
sakita. There are Manitous who preside over nations, and 
each individual has his own. When they went to hunt 
they made offerings of tobacco, powder, and lead, and of 
the skins of beasts, well dressed, to Wassakita. The offer- 
ing was fastened to the end of a pole and raised on high, 
accompanied by a prayer to the following effect : " Wassa- 
kita, we present to thee the herb for smoke, and the 
means of slaying beasts : vouchsafe to receive these presents, 
and do not permit the game to escape our track ; allow 
us to kill them in great numbers, and of the very fattest, 
that our children may not want either clothing or food." 

Michibichi was the Manitou of the waters and of fish, 
and sacrifice was offered to him in nearly the same man- 
ner when they were going to fish or make a voyage. 
This sacrifice was made by casting into the waters tobacco, 
food, kettles, etc., beseeching him that the waters of the 
river might flow gently, that no rock should break the 
canoe, and that he would grant them abundance of fish. 


I am greatly inclined to believe that the mode in which 
individuals selected their Manitous is the foundation of 
those names of Indians which are so peculiar to our abo- 
rigines. The subject might, perhaps, be worth an inquiry, 
unless more be known concerning it than I am as yet 
aware of. The account given by Father llasles of the 
selection is as follows : 

" When an Indian wishes to adopt a Manitou, the first 
animal which presents itself to his imagination during sleep 
is generally that which he selects. He kills one of this 
description, and places the skin or plumage in the most 
respectable part of his hut ; then he prepares a feast in 
its honor, during which he makes his harangue in terms 
the most respectful. Thenceforward it is recognized as his 

He also gives an account of the manner in which the 
Indian uses this consecrated spoil : " Besides the common 
Manitou, each has his own individually, which is either a 
bear, or a beaver, or a bustard, or some such animal. 
He carries the skin of this animal with him to war, on 
hunting expeditions, and on his journeys; he is persuaded / 
that it will preserve him from every danger, and make 
him successful in his enterprises." 

Amongst the different tribes through which he passed, 
from leaving the Hurons and Ottowas and arriving in the 
country of Illinois, he reckons, of different tongues, the 
following tribes : Maskoutings, Jakis, Omikoues, Iripegouans, 
Outagamis. Most of those names probably differ in the 
mode of spelling from that by which we should better 
recognize them. However, in 1768, Carver informs us that 
the Ottegamias were met by him, but farther west; and 
in 1780 Hutchins mentions them as a considerable tribe in 
Illinois. Between those five nations and the Ottowas he 
states the only difference is in language, consequently, they 
were worshipers of the Manitous. 

The next piece of evidence which I adduce is founded 
upon the testimony of Father Gabriel Marest, of the same 


society, in a letter written by him to Father German, also 
a Jesuit. It is dated from Kaskaskia, November 9, 1732. 
Father Rasles was still living, but had been fourteen or 
fifteen years withdrawn from the mission of Illinois and 
stationed amongst the Abnakis. In stating the situation of 
the place from which he writes, he informs the person to 
whom his letter is addressed, that the Illinois discharges 
itself into the Mississippi in little less than the 39th 
degree of latitude. I believe it is but about eight minutes 
south of the 39th degree, upon our best modern maps. 
Seven leagues below this he fixes the mouth of the Mis- 
souri, which, he writes, was better known then by the 
name of Pekitanoui, or the muddy river. After describing 
the country as far as the "Wabasb, and fixing the latitude 
of Kaskaskia in the 38th degree, where it appears on our 
modern maps, he proceeds to give the account of the people 
who occupied the country. 

It would be hard, he writes, to say what was their 
religion, for it consisted only in some superstitious practices 
by which their credulity was imposed upon ; and giving 
similar reasons as those which we have before seen for the 
worship of the Manitous in the manner described, he pro- 
coeds to a more particular detail. 

" The warriors," he writes, " carry their Manitous in a 
mat, and unceasingly invoke them to be victorious over 
their enemies ; the charlatans likewise have recourse to their 
Manitous, when they compose their medicine or heal their 
sick ; they accompany those invocations with songs and 
dances, and frightful contortions, to create the belief that 
they are agitated by their Manitous." " Who, they say, can 
resist the power of the Manitou? Is he not the master 
of life and of death? If the patient dies, the death is 
attributed to some occurrence which took place after the 
departure of the charlatan." I have seen in one of the 
letters an account of an attack made upon an Iroquois 
Christian, as the death of a woman who had been under 
the influence of the Manitous, was attributed by the char- 


latan to the repetition of the beads. Father Marest relates 
a similar occurrence within a month previous to the date 
of this letter in Illinois, and also gives an account of many, 
narrow escapes of his own on similar occasions. This 
Father places upon record the account of a very curious 
public conference, which took place some time previous to 
the date of his letter, between Father Marmet and one of 
the conjurers of the tribe of Mascoutens, who dwelt upon 
the "VVabash. The conjuror adored a buffalo as his Mani- 
tou. The Father gradually brought him to declare that it 
was not the buffalo, but the Manitou of the buffalo, which 
was under the earth, was the object of his adoration, and 
that it was this Manitou which did benefit to his patients; 
he farther brought him to acknowledge that the bear, the 
wolf, and the other animals whose Manitous his country- 
men adored were also powerless. He then asked if man, 
w r ho was the master of beasts, had not a special Manitou, 
to which the other answered, that doubtless he had, whence" 
the Father drew the inference from him, that as man had 
dominion over the beasts, the Manitou of man was supe- 
rior to all others, and that it was folly to invoke those 
who were subordinate, to the utter neglect of him who was 
superior. Whatever the force of the reasoning might have 
been, it was lost upon the conjurer and his followers. 

The fact of sacrifice being offered to the Manitou is very 
clearly established in this letter of Father Marest. He 
states that a great mortality occurred amongst the Indians 
on the "VVabash, near the station of Father Marmet. During 
the prevalence of the sickness, the conjurers, finding the 
deaths increase, held' a solemn assembly, at which nearly 
forty dogs were slain, and the victims, thus immolated, 
were lifted on poles and offered to the Manitou, in order 
to implore the removal of the plague. When the mortality 
increased they attributed it to their Manitou having been 
overcome by the Deity of the French, and the chief conjurer 
made a procession round the fort, acknowledging that life 
and death were in the hands of the Manitou of the French, 


and that the Indians were almost exterminated, and entreat- 
ing the good Manitou to keep death back and to send forth 
life from his coffer, that they might be healed. An instance 
of an opposite description is also testified in this letter. 
Father Bergier, the missionary in the village of the Tam- 
arouas, having died, the conjurers came into the village 
after the departure of Father Marest, who had interred him, 
and danced with great joy round the cross which had been 
planted in the centre of the village, each boasting as he 
sung that it was his Manitou that caused the missionary's 
death; they concluded by pulling up the cross and breaking 
it to pieces. 

Coming down farther on the Mississippi, we shall make, 
for the present, but a transitory visit to the Natchez. In 
the month of July, 1730, Father Petit, of New Orleans, 
gave an account of the massacre committed upon the French 
at Natchez, on the 28th of the preceding November, to 
Father Avaugour, the procurator of the North American 

In this letter he states that the Natchez is the only nation 
on this continent that appears to have a system of religion 
regularly established, and he finds much similarity between 
some of their practices and religious customs and those of 
the ancient Romans. Probably we shall draw different con- 
clusions at another time, than that the aborigines of this 
continent either were a Roman colony, or derived their 
religion from Italy. I shall at present confine myself to a 
mere recital of facts, of whose truth I am convinced by the 
testimony. At Natchez they had a temple filled with idols ; 
those idols were figures of men and beasts, and were held 
in the highest veneration. The architecture was indeed 
rude ; the place had the appearance of a large oven of 
earth, about one hundred feet in circumference, and the 
entrance to its interior was through a door of only four feet 
in height, by three wide; it had no window, and the roof 
was protected by a triple covering of mats. On the outside 
were the wooden figures of three eagles, one white, one red, 


and one yellow ; in front of the door was a porch, with 
an outer door ; the guardian of the temple held his station 
in this porch ; a palisade enclosed the whole ; and on this 
were placed the skulls of those whom their warriors had 

Within the temple were shelves upon which the bones 
of their chieftains were kept in baskets, and those of their 
attendants, Avho were immolated to accompany them in death, 
were placed near the remains of the chief. But one shelf, 
which stood alone, had several painted boxes, in which the 
idols were kept ; they were stone and brick figures of men 
and women, the heads and tails of extraordinary serpents, the 
skins of owls stuffed with grass, pieces of crystal, and the 
jaws of large fishes. In the year 1699, they had a bottle 
and the bottom of a glass which they preserved with great 
care. The sisters of the great chief were the only women 
who had permission to enter the temple, and only some of 
the men had the privilege; the common people were not 
allowed even to carry in the food which was to be placed 
near the relics of their friends, to satisfy their spirits, but 
it was carried by the guardian. About a century since the 
nation had six villages only, but each possessed its temple;, 
however, their statement was that at one period they had 
sixty towns, in each of which there was an edifice of this- 

I suspected, at first, that the idols might have been only 
kept as in a museum, more as objects of curiosity than for 
the purposes of worship ; but a little examination soon con- 
vinced me that this conjecture was unfounded, as I perceived 
distinct evidence to the contrary. Two great festivals were 
annually celebrated at the temple, at the termination of each 
of which, in the exhortation to the discharge of duty given 
by the chief, the principal and concluding admonition 
regarded the worship of the spirits which resided in the 
temple, and the instruction of the children in their religious 
duties to them. In the year 1702, the temple of Natchez 
was destroyed by lightning, and seven or eight women, 


who cast their children into the flames for the purpose of 
appeasing the gods by the sacrifice of what they held most 
dear, were publicly applauded for this act of religion by 
the chief, who also exhorted the other women, on similar 
occasions, to imitate so excellent an example. The first 
fruits of the harvest were also brought to be offered at 
this temple, and all gifts made to the nation were first 
presented within, by the guardian, to the deities, before 
they were taken to the chief, who subsequently distributed 
them. A perpetual fire was kept burning herein, but 
great care was taken to prevent its blazing ; the guardian r 
who during his quarter of duty staid in the porch, had care 
of this fire ; the old men brought the fuel, which was either 
oak or walnut tree, and the logs were never laid over cack 
other lest a blaze should be produced. 

The chief appoints the guardians of the temple. But the 
sun was their principal object of adoration, and the chief 
was therefore styled the brother of the sun, and his hut 
was always built upon an elevated mound of earth, and of 
a similar appearance with the temple itself. At sunrise he 
came out to salute his elder brother with three cries, for 
which purpose his door was open to the east. After this- 
salutation he called for his calumet, and offered the three- 
first whiffs of smoke from his tobacco, then he pointed out 
the course which his brother was to travel to the west, and 
thus concluded his morning service. 

Father Petit also informs us that when the Natchez went 
to war, the head warriors carried their idols, which they 
called their spirits, securely wrapped up in skins, and in 
the evening when they were about to encamp they hung 
those idols upon "a red pole, fixed in a slanting way, so 
that the idols should hang at the side wfiere their enemies- 
lay. Before lying down the warriors danced singly before 
them, each with his tomahawk bravely menacing the dis- 
tant foe. The doctors, also, when they attended their patients 
carried their spirits, as they called them, in their baskets; 
and made frequent invocations to them for aid during their 


stay or their operations. Other conjurers regulated the 
weather, and some undertook to procure drought, whilst 
the powers of others extended only to rain, it being acknowl- 
edged that the same spirit or idol could not procure both. 
Father Petit, who has given this account during his pri- 
ority at New Orleans, had previously spent a considerable 
time amongst the Choctaws. 

One consideration forces itself upon the mind. If the 
Indians of this continent had been theists, they would have 
been almost an exception to those other hordes of whom 
we have any history, and must have appeared so to those 
missionaries who would not have failed to notice the dif- 
ference and to mention the fact ; but they, on the con- 
trary, call them idolaters, and place them on a level with 
the uncivilized tribes of whom the Church had in all ages 
numerous accounts, and who were almost universally poly- 
theists. The history of their Manitous, and of the grada- 
tions, and of the opposition of those Manitous, and of the 
opposition supposed to exist between the Indian and the 
French Manitous, is plainly exhibited. The worship of the 
sun and of idols in the temple of Natchez and in the 
other temples of that nation, all tend clearly to the con- 
clusion that the aboriginal Indians of what is now the 
middle range of our States, were polytheists, and as we have 
reason to believe that their religion was a correct general 
exhibition of that of their brethren, I think it may be 
fairly deduced that the religion of North America was 
polytheism. Such also was that of most nations when, fol- 
lowing their own devices, they swerved from the ancient 
religion of their progenitors, which was the worship of one 
God, as we have good proof, from history and from other 
monuments, to establish. 



Ox Thursday, June 26, a public consistory was held in 
the ducal chamber at the Vatican for the purpose of giving 
their hats to the new cardinals, viz., Tiberi, Bishop of 
Jeoci, in the Papal States, and late Nuncio in Spain, 
who was created cardinal September 30, 1831, and reserved 
in petto; his resignation published July 2, 1832, but who 
had arrived in Kome only within the previous week; 
Canali, Bottiglia, and Polidori. The four new cardinals 
went to the Sistine Chapel, at the altar of which they 
were successively sworn in presence of the Cardinal-dean, 
Pacca, first of the order of bishops, Cardinal Galleffi, 
Camerlengo of the holy Roman Church, Cardinal Odescalchi, 
vice-chancellor, Doria-Pamphilia, first cardinal-priest present, 
Rivarola, first cardinal-deacon present, Mattei, Cardinal Cam- 
erlengo of the sacred college, and the Most Rev. Lui 
Frezza, Archbishop of Chalcedon, secretary of the congrega- 
tion of consistory and of the sacred college. 

The sala regia, or royal hall, of the Vatican palace is 
a splendid room of vast extent, to which you ascend by 
the scala regia, or royal staircase, which is a magnificent 
flight of steps between the Church of St. Peter and the 
Vatican palace. As you enter you have on your right, at 
one extremity of the hall, the gate which leads into the 
Pauline Chapel ; on turning towards the left and advanc- 
ing about fifty or sixty feet into the room, you have on 
your left the gate of the Sistine Chapel, and on your 

1 These sketches were written during Bishop England's second visit to Rome 
to attend to the affairs of tho Haytian Legation, and appeared in 1834. 

18 /S7. 


right that of the sala clucale or ducal hall. On entering 
this hall, which is about fifty feet wide, it was found that 
the consistory was assembled. At the farther extremity, 
about OIIG hundred feet distant, an elevated platform, to 
which there was an ascent of three steps, extended across- 
the room ; at either extremity was a large and massy 
door, tastefully decorated ; raised on the platform midway 
between them, under a canopy of crimson and gold, the 
Papal throne was elevated three steps more, having on 
each side the flabelli displayed. The Pope was clothed in 
a rich cope, w r earing a plain mitre of cloth of gold, with 
his domestic prelates, principal officers, civil and military, 
and the guard of nobles occupying the platform on each 
side. In front, at a moderate distance, the bench for car- 
dinals ranged at each side, and crossed nearly towards the 
third part of the hall, forming three sides of a parallelo- 
gram. The cardinal-dean sat at the inner extremity towards 
the Pope's right hand, wearing his purple cappa, with his 
train-bearers seated at his feet; five other cardinal-bishops 
sat on his right in their successive order, then the car- 
dinal-priests according to their seniority; opposite the cardi- 
nal-dean the third senior cardinal-deacon sat, at the inner 
extremity of the bench, towards the left of His Holiness 
and his junior brethren, extending outwards on his left, 
until the junior deacon was found near the junior priest > 
the two senior deacons stood on either side of the Pope. 
All the cardinals were similarly habited and attended. The 
Prince Orsini, the head of the ancient Guelph family and 
present senator of Rome, stood as prince-assistant at the 
throne on the right of the first cardinal-deacon. On your 
right, as you entered the room, a beautiful and convenient 
gallery, with open lattice-work in front, had been erected 
for ladies, of whom there were several ; the number that 
might be thus accommodated would be at least one hun- 
dred and fifty. Under these galleries, behind the cardinal- 
deacons and junior priests, there were accommodations for 
prelates and distinguished strangers. I observed in this 


place Captain Read, of the Constellation frigate, and some 
of his officers. The space immediately next the cardinals' 
bench was occupied by the Swiss guard, drawn up in line 
across the hall, in their ancient costume, and having their 
spears. The rest of the room was filled with monks, friars, 
officers, civil and military, priests and laymen, of all nations 
and tongues. 

Silence was proclaimed. Some of the consistorial advo- 
cates addressed the Holy Father upon various subjects in 
the way of motions for consistorial decisions. Amongst 
them was one who made the preliminary motion for pro- 
ceeding to the beatification of the venerable servant of God, 
Maria Clotilda Xavier, of Bourbon, a queen of Sardinia. 
Eight cardinals then left the hall they were the deacons 
and junior priests to introduce from the Sistine Chapel 
the four cardinals who had just previously taken the oaths. 
These four arrived in the hall, going successively to the 
throne and kissing the Pope's right foot and right hand, 
after which the Holy Father embraced him. They next 
went to their brethren of the sacred college, commencing 
with the cardinal-dean, and were embraced by each of 
them successively in like manner. After this each went on 
his knees before the Holy Father, who, with the proper 
prayer and suitable admonition, placed the red hats on 
their heads successively, gave his blessing and retired. The 
cardinals then went to the Sistine Chapel with their newly 
admitted brethren ; here the Te Dcum was chanted in supe- 
rior style, at the conclusion of which the proper prayer 
was said for the new cardinals, who were again embraced 
by their brethren, of whom only thirty-one were present. 
In the evening each new cardinal visited St. Peter's Church, 
then the cardinal-dean, and returning home had a party of 
his friends, and appeared in full dress. During the assem- 
bly the keeper of the Pope's wardrobe brought the hat in 
state, and delivered it with a suitable address, to which the 
cardinal made an appropriate answer. The palaces of the 
city were illuminated. 


As a sort of supplement, I might add that on the same 
afternoon the Pope received in the kindest manner, in his 
gardens, the visit of Captain Read, his lady, the chaplain 
(a Presbyterian clergyman), and eight or ten officers of the 
Constellation frigate, amongst whom there was only one 
Catholic, Lieutenant Francis Rail, of the marines ; they 
were presented by Mr. Cicognani, the Consul of the United 


The great festival of the Apostles St. Peter and St. 
Paul, was celebrated on Sunday, June 29, with the usual 
solemnity. Of course, you are aware that the celebration 
commences at first vespers ; the Church in her celebration 
of public offices following the ancient Judaic mode of 
observing the ecclesiastical day, from evening until evening. 
At this point, therefore, all the great festivals commence. 

The w r eather, at this time of the year, is nearly as warm 
as in Charleston, S. C.; the thermometer generally being, 
at midday, about 27 of Reaumur or 92 of Fahrenheit, 
without any sea breeze. There are, therefore, very few 
strangers in the city; hence, although I should suppose 
there were upwards of fifteen thousand persons at St. 
Peter's, it appeared almost deserted. 

The procession left that hall of the Vatican which is 
called the robing-room at about half past five o'clock. It 
was not very large. The number of extraordinary cham- 
berlains and chaplains, together with the other ecclesiastical 
officers who preceded the cross, in red sutanes and surplices, 
did not appear to be over one hundred ; probably an equal 
number of civil officers. The sub-deacon, accompanied by 
his seven acolytes, followed them ; behind him were the 
porters of the red staff. The Swiss guards, in their ordinary 
dress, now dotted the remainder of the procession on either 
side ; then followed the greater prelates under the episcopal 
order, probably about forty, and the twelve penitentiaries 


of St. Peter's in red chasubles. The number of assistant 
bishops in red copes and plain white mitres was ten, the 
two junior of whom were the Right Rev. Dr. Baine, Bishop 
of Siga and Vicar Apostolic of the western district of Eng- 
land, and the Bishop of Charleston. They were followed 
by the cardinal-deacons, about six in number, clothed in their 
dalmatics and mitred, having their train-bearers and other 
attendants. After them came about thrice as many cardinal- 
priests, mitred, wearing chasubles, and similarly attended ; 
they were followed by five of the cardinal-bishops, mitred, 
wearing copes, and similarly attended. The governor of 
Rome, the Prince Orsini, who is senator of Rome and 
assistant at the throne, together with the deputation from 
the Roman magistracy, surrounded by the general staff of the 
military, the guard of nobles .and the mace-bearers, and a 
special detachment of the Swiss, carrying large two-handed 
swords, followed. In the midst of this division came the 
Pope, in a cope and mitre of plain cloth of gold, having 
on either side the two senior cardinal-deacons then in the 
city, and followed by the major-domo, the treasurer, the 
chamberlain, the rest of the household, and a number 
of others. 

As soon as His Holiness arrived in the ducal hall, he 
was conducted to his chair, which was immediately raised 
upon their shoulders by the grooms in attendance, and was 
thus borne to the altar. The procession continued to advance 
through the royal hall, down the scala regia, until it arrived 
at the equestrian statue of Constantino, which is on your 
left as you descend, and about three-fourths of the space 
down to the ground-floor ; then, turning to the right, it 
descended by a few steps into the vestibule of the great 
Church of St. Peter. Here, the chapter of this basilica and 
its clerks, .with the archpriest, Cardinal Galeffi, at the head, 
about sixty or seventy in number, received the array, 
allowing it to pass through two lines formed facing inward, 
in which the chapter and clergy stood arranged, in the 
centre of the vestibule itself; behind these lines, on each 


side, a range of military was formed in single file, and tne 
people crowded the rear ; across the middle of the vestibule, 
from the great centre gate of the church, towards that which 
opens in the porch to the front of the basilica, the respectable 
body of the Capitoline guards, in their fine uniform, were 
drawn up facing the archway which opened from the statue 
of Constantine. In the rear of the battalion, the military 
bands were stationed in front of the civic guards or militia, 
who were formed in line of two deep along the other wing 
of the vestibule leading towards the equestrian statue of 
Charlemagne, which, on the south side of the vestibule, 
corresponds with that of Constantine on the north. 

As soon as the head of the procession entered this ves- 
tibule the bands commenced occasional gratulations. Arrived 
at the great middle gate of .bronze, the procession, leaving 
the Capitoline guards on its left, turned to the right into 
the church. Here the regular troops were drawn up in 
single file, facing inwards, leaving in the centre a space 
of from sixty to eighty feet wide, for the procession which 
now began to move slowly up the centre towards the great 
altar under the dome. This mighty mass appeared to be 
of solid gold, blazing also witli lights under its massive 
twisted columns and great canopy of Corinthian brass. The 
numerous lamps that burned round the balustrade of the 
confession, which shows the tomb of the Apostle several 
feet below, seemed, in the distance, like the flowing of a 
stream of liquid fire lambent about the base of the ma- 
jestic altar. 

As soon as the Holy Father turned into the vestibule, the 
bands gave their full salute, the bells redoubled their enliv- 
ening peal, and the voices of the capitular choir repeated, 
in solemn chant, the declaration of the Saviour, made 
eighteen centuries ago, to the predecessor of Gregory XVI. 
" Tu es Petrus et super hanc petram sedificabo ecclesiam 
meam, et portse inferi non prcevalebunt adversus cam Thou 
art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church, 
and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." The 


Holy Father, in meek, dignified humility, imparted the 
blessing as he was borne along. A rich canopy was sus- 
tained by prelates over his chair, and the flabelli waved 
majestically on either side. Over the vestibule, from a 
window that opened into the church, immediately above the 
great door, six trumpets announceed the entrance of the 
Holy Father. The troops presented arms as the greater 
prelates who followed the cross advanced ; but when the 
Father of the faithful approached, with their arms still pre- 
sented, they bent a knee. The masters of ceremony were 
stationed from place to place along the line, and as the 
procession approached the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament on 
the right, about four hundred feet after it had entered the 
church, it was arranged line within line on either side 
towards the gate of this chapel. The chair was let down, 
the Holy Father descended and knelt in adoration for a 
few moments ; all knelt with him. He rose, resumed his 
seat, the lines began to extend forward, the procession 
advanced towards the choir that was enclosed beyond this 
great altar. Your readers ought to know that the platform 
and steps of this altar are not, as is usual in modern 
churches, towards the entrance, but have the back of the 
altar -itself towards the principal gate, as was more usual 
in the ancient edifices. A partition covered with crimson 
damask and broad gold lace, was drawn across the centre 
aisle about one hundred and fifty feet beyond the altar to 
its front, and, consequently, having the altar between it and 
the gate. Against this partition a large platform was raised, 
to which there was an ascent of six or eight steps, and upon 
this platform was the papal throne, opposite the steps which 
ascended to the corresponding platform of the altar. On 
the right the Prince Orsini stood by the throne itself; in 
front of him, considerably towards the verge, the first car- 
dinal-bishop sat ; a cardinal-deacon sat on either side of 
the throne, and on the upper steps at either side the 
assistant-bishops stood or sat; below them, on one side, 
was the Roman magistracy; on the other the judges and 
officers of the chief civil, criminal, and ecclesiastical tribu- 


nals. Below, on either side, the cardinals were ranged on 
elevated benches, and on lower ones at their feet their 
train-bearers sat. Nearer to the altar the other members 
of the papal chapel were variously disposed, and from the 
lamps of the confession, on either side of the altar, back 
to the cardinals' benches, the guards of nobles in close 
single files filled up the space to prevent any intrusion. 
On benches behind the cardinals were archbishops and 
bishops not assistant, civil and military officers, the heads 
of religious orders, foreign ambassadors, etc. 

After the Pope was seated, the cardinals, archbishops, 
bishops, and penitentiaries of St. Peter's went successively 
to pay the usual homage, the first by kissing his right 
hand, the second by kissing his right knee, and the third 
by kissing his right foot. After this, the solemn intona- 
tion of the Vespers was given by the Holy Father and 
continued by the choir. The scene Avas sublime. The sen- 
sations were deep, solemn, and highly impressive. 

After Vespers the pallia were brought up from the tomb 
of the Apostles, upon a salver covered with rich silk, and 
presented to the Pope to be blessed. Perhaps your readers 
do not know, and would wish to be informed, that a pal- 
lium is a sort of woolen collar with five purple crosses 
on it, which is worn on solemn occasions by patriarchs, 
archbishops, and a few privileged bishops, and is emblem- 
atic of their right of presidency in their districts. The 
wool is shorn from lambs blessed on the Festival of St. 
Agnes at her church outside the city ; they are shorn at 
a particular time, and the wool is spun and woven by the 
nuns of a particular convent under her invocation; the col- 
lars are then laid upon the tomb in the confession of St. 
Peter, to signify the connection of the bearer with his 
apostolical authority. They are brought and blessed at first 
Vespers on June 28, and replaced upon the tomb until 
demanded for a new prelate, who, upon receiving it, renews 
his oath of fealty to the Holy See, has it placed on his 
neck, wears it on solemn occasions, and has it buried with 



Preparations had been made for illuminating the exterior 
of the Church of St. Peter, as soon as night should fall. 
Xo description can convey an adequate idea of the spectacle 
which this presents. The dome is somewhat larger than 
the Church of St. Mary of the Martyrs, which is the old 
Pantheon; and this is not only surmounting the roof, but 
raised considerably above it. This Pantheon is much larger 
than the circular church in Meeting street. 1 Imagine this 
as only one of three domes, of which it is, indeed, far the 
largest, elevated considerably above the roof of a church, 
the fagade of which is a grand pile of architecture ; this 
dome is half surrounded by columns, and the one by which 
the entablature over them is crowned, closely ribbed to its 
summit. Over this is a ball, in which I was one of eight 
persons standing erect, and we had room for at least four 
others, and this ball is surmounted by a cross. From the 
sides of the front two wings of splendid architecture project 
forward upwards of eighty feet ; at their extremities are 
lofty columns, over which run the proper entablatures 
crowned by pediments ; from these enormous colonnades 
recede almost semi-circularly from each wing, sweeping, 
with their hundreds of pillars, round the immense piazza, 
capable of containing probably one hundred thousand human 
beings upon the area within their embrace. In the centre 
of this is a rich Egyptian obelisk, resting upon the backs 
of four lions, couchantp upon the angles of a fine pedestal. 
Half way from this obelisk, at each side towards the 
colonnade, are two magnificent fountains, probably the most 
superb in the world. Each appears to be a capacious 
marble vase elevated upon a sufficiently strong but gracefully 
delicate stem ; the summit of this vase is at the elevation 
of about twelve feet. From its centre rises, to nearly the 
same height, another still more slender and delicately shaped 

1 A peculiar church building in Charleston, S. C. 


stem, from whose summit is projected, to a considerable 
height, a water-spout which, gracefully bending near its ( 
summit and yielding to the direction of the wind, as it 
forms its curve and descent, is separated into a sort of 
sparkling spray of pearls and silver intermixed. About 
twelve other spouts shoot round this central liquid column, 
diverging from it on every side as they rise, and falling, 
with a similar appearance, at somewhat of a less elevation. 
They seem, in the distance, to be like rich plumes of some 
gigantic ostrich waving gracefully in the breeze, whilst the 
descending shower is received in the capacious vase, from 
whose interior it is conducted to various fountains in the 
city. Hundreds of statues lift their various forms, appearing 
larger than life, over the frieze and cornice of the colonnade ; 
whilst at the foot of the majestic flight of steps by which 
you ascend to the portico of the church, two ancient statues 
of St. Peter and St. Paul have for centuries rested upon 
their pedestals. The facade of the church itself is sur- 
mounted by the colossal statues of the twelve Apostles. 

The illumination consisted of two parts. The lamps for 
the first part were disposed closely, in colored paper, along 
the architectural lines of this mighty mass, about the ribs 
of the domes, around the ball, and on the cross. 

To me, as I looked from the bridge of St. Angelo, the 
scene appeared like a vision of enchantment. It seemed 
as if a mighty pile of some rich, black, soft material was 
reared in the likeness of a stupendous temple, and the 
decorations were broad lines of burning liquid gold. The 
ball and the cross were seen as if detached and resting in 
the air above its summit. It was indeed a becoming emblem 
of the triumph of a crucified Redeemer over this terrestrial 
ball. After I had passed the bridge and as I approached 
the piazza, the front of the church and the expanse of the 
colonnade exhibited their lines of light. The specks which 
formed those lines glowed now more distinct and separate, 
and though their continuity was lost, their symmetry was 
perfect and magnificent. The immense piazza was thronged 


with carriages and persons on foot, whilst a division of 
the Papal dragoons, one of the finest and best disciplined 
bodies of cavalry in existence, moved in sections and single 
files through the multitude, calmly, but steadily and firmly, 
preserving order. Scarcely a word is heard above a whisper ; 
iin accident is of so rare an occurrence as not to be 
calculated upon. The Cardinal Secretary of State has a 
gallery in front of the church, to which foreign ambassadors 
and a fow other strangers of distinction are invited. I 
observed Captain Read and his wife in this gallery, and 
many of our officers were promenading below. 

About an hour elapsed from the commencement, when 
the motion of a brighter light was observed towards the 
summit of the cupola, a large star seemed to shoot upwards 
to the cross, asd, as if by a sudden flash from heaven, 
the whole edifice appeared to blaze in the glare of day. 
A thousand lights, kindled by some inconceivably rapid 
communication, shed their beams upon every part of the 
building. Pillars and pilasters, with their vases, shafts, ami 
capitals ; mouldings, friezes, cornices, pediments, architraves, 
pannels, doors, windows, niches, images, decorations, enrich- 
ments, domes all, with their faint lines of golden light, 
now softened to a milder lustre, were revealed in brilliant 
relief to the enraptured eye. The fountains were magnifi- 
cently grand, and richly pure, and softened into a refresh- 
ing white. The multitude was silent. The horses w r ere still. 
The glowing cross, elevated above the Vatican hill, beamed 
to the wide plains and distant mountains its augury of future 
glory because of past humiliation. The crowd began to move, 
a low buzz of conversation began, and then the horses' 
tramp, followed by the rattling of wheels. And whilst tens 
of thousands remained yet longer, other thousands moved 
in various directions to their homes, or to distant elevated 
points for the sake of a variety of views. 

I went to the magnificent Piazza del Popolo. It was 

, literally a desert ; but in its stillness, and the dereliction 

of its obelisk, its fountains, and its statues, by the very 


contrast to the scene that I had left, there arose a feeling: 

* O 

of new sublimity. It was more deep it was more solemn, 
but it was less elevated ; not so overpowering, nor so im- 
pressive as to that which it succeeded. My object was to 
ascend from this place to the Monte Pincio ; the command- 
ing view from which would enable me to look over the 
city at the great object which attracted every eye. But the 
gates of the avenue at this side were closed, and I had 
to go to the Piazza di Spagna, and there to ascend by 
the immense and beautiful flight of steps to the Trinita 
dei Monti. Standing here in front of the Convent of the 
Ladies of the Sacred Heart, the view of St. Peter's was 
indeed superb. I proceeded up towards the public gardens 
lately formed on the summit of this ancient residence of 
so many of the remarkable men of five-and-twenty ages. 
At various intervals I stopped and turned to view the 
altered appearance presented by the mass of light as seen 
from those different positions. As I contemplated it I 
reflected that it must soon be extinguished like the transient 
glories of the philosophers, the heroes, the statesmen, the 
orators who successively passed over the spot on which I 
stood. A humble fisherman from Galilee, and an obscure 
tent-maker from Tarsus, were confined in the dungeons of this 
city. Seventeen hundred and sixty-eight years had passed 
away since one of them was crucified with his head down- 
wards, on the Vatican Hill, and the other was beheaded near 
the Ostian AVay. They had been zealously faithful in dis- 
charging the duties of their apostleship. In the eyes of 
men their death was without honor, but it was precious in 
the sight of God. Grateful and admiring millions from 
year to year proclaim their praises, whilst the Church 
exhibits their virtues as proofs of the power of the Saviour's 
grace, as models for the imitation of her sons. Oh ! let 
my soul die the death of the just, and let my last end 
be like to theirs! Translated from this earth they live 
in heaven. Tried for a time and found faithful, they enjoy 
a glorious recompense. The God that we serve is merciful 


iu bestowing His grace, and is exceedingly bountiful in 
crowning His own gifts, by giving to us through the merits 
of His Son a recompense for those acts of virtue which 
He enables us to perform. 

I found myself again near the summit of the steps 
I descended and retired to my home reflecting upon the 
wonders wrought by the Most High through the instru- 
mentality of those two great saints, the celebration of whose 
festival had thus commenced. The ardent Peter and the 
active Paul ! The name changed to signify the office to 
which he should be raised. The Vicegerent of heaven's 
King bearing the mystic keys with powers of legislation and 
of administration, Whatever thou shall bind on earth shall 
be bound in heaven, whatsoever thou shall loose on earth 
shall be loosed also in heaven. Yes ! upon this rock was 
the Church of the Saviour built. Its principal weight of 
administration rested upon him, -who of himself was weak, 
but who, converted and sustained by Christ, was strong. 
" Before the cock shall crow twice this night, thou shall 
thrice deny Me. Yes! Satan hath desired to have thee that 
he might sift thee as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee 
that thy faith fail not. And thou once converted, confirm 
thy brethren ! " The strongest power that hell can muster 
in its gates, to make a furious assault upon that Church, 
the weighty administration of which shall rest upon you, 
and upon those that shall succeed you, shall from time to 
time be marshaled and sent forth for the destruction of 
that body which the Saviour organized like a well-ordered 
kingdom upon earth for the attainment of heaven ; but the 
gates of hell shall not prevail against it ! The dynasties 
of nations have perished the palaces of the Caesars are in 
ruins their tombs have mouldered with the bodies they 
contained, but the successors of Peter continue. Under the 
orders of Nero, the two Apostles were consigned to what 
was imagined to be destruction. The vaults of the tyrant's 
golden palace are covered with vegetation. Standing on the 
unseemly ruins of the remnant of this monster's monument, 


by the side of the Flaminian way, through the obscurity 
of the night, the Christian peasant looks towards that blaze 
of light, which, from the resting-place where the relics of 
the head of the Church and of the doctor of the Gentiles 
are found, breaks forth and irradiates the eternal city and 
its monumental environs. 

If Peter is elevated in station, Paul is not less glorious 
in merit. He, too, looked back with sorrow on that day 
when he held the clothes of those who slew Stephen. But 
how nobly did he redeem his error. A vessel of election 
to bear the good odor of Christ into the palaces of kings 
a torrent of eloquence flowing into the barren fields of 
a vain philosophy to fertilize and adorn a rich exhibition 
of virtue, winning by its beauty, attracting by its symmetry, 
and exciting to activity by emulation a glowing meteor of 
benediction, dissipating the clouds of error, shedding the 
lustre of truth around, and warming the hearts of the 
beholders to charity on earth, that they might be fitted for 
glory in heaven. 


On June 30 a chapel of the bishops assistant at the 
throne was held at the Church of St. Paul, on the Ostian 
road. This is the great basilica which was consumed by 
fire about eleven years ago. In this conflagration the grand 
altar and the place where the relics of the Apostles repose 
escaped. Hundreds of workmen continue to be employed 
in the restoration of this fine church, and considerable 
progress has been made. The transept is covered in, the 
columns of the aisles are erected, and most of them have 
their capitals mounted. The shafts are a beautiful iron 
gray granite, each shaft one piece of upwards of twenty feet 
in height, and the cap a fine white marble, Corinthian or 
composite, each in two blocks ; very few are Ionic. The 
aisles of this church are new as far as the transept. The 
floor is to be raised three feet above its old level, as on 


some former occasions the Tiber rose to such a height a& 
to overflow it. Probably twenty years more, at least, must 
pass away before this church can be used, though probably 
five hundred men are continually employed upon it. The 
offices are at present performed in three chapels the old 
sacristies, each of which would make a moderate sized. 
American church. 

On this day also two of the cardinal-bishops consecrated 
each two of the newly-appointed bishops just nominated. 
But on the subsequent Sunday I was present at a cere- 
mony which to me was quite new the consecration of a. 
Catholic Bishop according to the Greek rite. It took place 
in the Greek Church, on the Via del Babuino, and was 
rather thinly attended, as it was not generally known. I 
do not believe that there were five hundred persons in 
the church. The prelate consecrated was Gabriel Smicsiti- 
laszbi Crisio ; the consecrating prelate was the Most Rev- 
erend Basil Tomaggiani, a native of Pera, Constantinople,, 
born in the year 1762, a minor conventual friar and 
Archbishop of Durazzo who for a number of years has 
resided in this city for the purpose of performing the 
episcopal functions of the Greek rite. He was assisted by 
two Latin doctors, Lewis Cardelli, a minor reformed friar, 
Archbishop of Acrida in partibus, and Lewis Grati, a 
Servite (formerly Archbishop of Smyrna, which he resigned)' 
friar, Bishop of Gallimicio in partibus. The deacon was 
the same that sung the Gospel in Greek, at St. Peter's,, 
at the Papal High Mass on the Festival of SS. Peter and 
Paul, and the sub-deacon was from the Propaganda. Sev- 
eral other students from this college also attended to sing 
the other parts of the service according to their rite. An 
American bishop and an American priest in plain official 
dress, not vestments, and a few other clergymen of various 
orders were permitted to go within the partition which 
separates the Greek altars from the congregation. Small as 
the number present was, the persons composing it were col- 
lected from many nations, and though all of one faith, 
yet followed several rites. 


The ceremony as regards vesture, instruments, and form, 
was far more simple than the Latin rite. The consecrating 
prelate only laid one hand on the head of the person 
consecrated, the assisting prelate holding the book of the 
Gospels on his shoulders during the imposition. The cro- 
sier is altogether of a different form from that used by 
the Latins. It is shorter, more slender, and in place of a 
crook has a double curve, as if two serpents had their 
tails inserted in the top of the shaft and their bodies 
stretched horizontally in opposite directions for about six 
inches each, after which they turn upwards bending their 
heads towards each other so as to approach within about 
a couple of inches. This is given to the person to be 
consecrated, when he is made a doctor, immediately after 
his profession of faith and oath of fealty previous to the 
Mass. No unction of either the head or hand is used, 
nor is any mitre placed on his head. He, on the proper 
occasion after his consecration, takes the Greek mitre, 
\vhich is very different in its shape from that of the 
Latins, being in fact a crown. Upon the whole the cere- 
mony was very interesting, though by no means so solemn 
or imposing as that of the Latins. On the same day 
(July 6) Cardinal Odescalchi, Vice-Chancellor of the Holy 
Roman Church and Bishop of Sabina, went in state to the 
Church of St. Andrew on the Quirinal hill, the novitiate 
of the Jesuits, and consecrated Francis Strani, Bishop of 
the diocese of Massa di Carrara; the assistants were the 
Most Reverend John Soglia, Archbishop of Ephesus, and 
the Most Reverend Constantino Patozzi, Archbishop of 
Philippi and major-domo to His Holiness. 

All the Italian bishops are consecrated in this city by 
cardinals, though the pontifical directs that as far as possible 
the bishop should be consecrated in the midst of his own 
people in the church to which he is promoted. The custom 
here originated in the practice, very properly established, 
of having the bishops elect of these countries examined in 
theology and canon law and certified as perfect in their 


knowledge of both, by a very respectable congregation of 
cardinals, prelates, theologians and jurists, previous to their 
being approved and nominated by His Holiness in the 
consistory. I recollect that one of the most learned of this 
body of examiners, the present Bishop of Orvietto, having 
been appointed by the Pope, from his personal knowledge 
of his learning and merit, could not obtain the necessary 
certificate from his brother examiners, without undergoing 
a very rigorous and searching trial. When thus in the holy 
city, and examined, approved and named, they generally 
preferred being consecrated by a cardinal-bishop, and the 
custom is now grown into a law. I must acknowledge that 
I prefer the discipline laid down in the pontifical. 

As your readers might wish to see a list of this congrega- 
tion, and thus have an idea of the constitution of those 
committees of business, I shall give you a list of the present 
congregation for the examination of bishops elect. 

Examiners in Theology. 

CARDINALS: 1. Pacca. 2. Zurla. 3. Micara. 4. Lam- 
bruschini. 5. Marco-y-Catalan. 

FATHERS : 6. Master Dominic Buttaoni, a Dominican friar, 
Master of the Sacred Palace. 7. Master Thomas Antonino 
Degola, of the same order, Secretary of the Index. 8. 
John da Capistrano, ex-General Minister of the Reformed 
Minor Observantine Friars. 9. Lewis Togni, Prefect-General 
of the Fathers Infirmarians for the Charitable Care of the 
Sick. 10. Laurence da Camerata, of the Order of Friars 
Capuchins, Apostolic Preacher for the Papal Household. 
11. The Abbate Paul del Signore, a Canon Regular of St. 
Saviour's of Lateran. 12. John Roothan, General of the 
Society of Jesus. 13. The Abbate Don Ambrose Bianchi, 
Vicar-General of the Benedictine Congregation of Camaldoli. 
14. Cherubino da Arienzo, of the Order of Friars Minors, 
Observantines. 15. Master Laurence Tardi, Vicar-General 



of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine. 16. Don Emilio 
Jacopini, of the Order of Regular Minor Clerks. 

Examiners in Canon Law. 

CARDINALS: 1. Galleffi. 2. De Gregorio. 3. Falzacappa. 
4. Odescalchi. 5. Fransoni. 6. Sala. 

MOST REVEREND: 7. Joseph della Porta Ronciglione, 
Patriarch of Constantinople. 8. Francis Canali, lately cre- 
ated cardinal, Archbishop of Larissa. 9. John Soglia, Arch- 
bishop of Ephesus. 

THE PRELATES : Rev. Jerome Bontadosi, auditor (or 
assessor) of His Holiness. Silvester Bargagnati, one of the 
clerks of the chamber (Court of Appeals). Rev. Joseph 
Mezzofanti, First Keeper of the Vatican Library, of whom 
Lord Byron had so high an opinion ; probably one of the 
first linguists in existence ; he speaks with facility thirty- 
four living languages, and several of the dead tongues. 

SECRETARY: The Most Rev. Joseph Vespigniani, Arch- 
bishop of Tyana. 

"When I contemplated one of those congregations, as-d 
after taking each individual separately and considering his 
erudition and respectability upon a variety of other grounds, 
and then viewed the aggregate of their merits; how did I 
pity the little beings who, without knowing one particle of 
the mode in which business is done here or concerning 
the character or qualifications of the councilors of the 
Holy Father, write and speak of mankind, ignorance, the 
dark ages, the mariner's compass, the art of printing, the 
feudal times Martin Luther, Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, &c. 

By the bye, as we have touched this chord I amused 
some of our Americans, whilst they were in this city about 
three weeks since, by taking them to Monsignor Mezzofanti, 
with whom I have the happiness of an intimate acquaintance, 
and procuring from him one of the pieces in his archives, 
an antograph love letter of the gallant monarch to Miss 
Anne. It is written in French, and not easily legible at 


the first inspection; in the flourish to his signature is a heart 
in the midst of which, upon examination, you find the initials 
of the lady's name, A. This letter is pasted on the leaf of 
a book which contains a copy of the piece in a more modern 
and legible hand, by the aid of which the original is easily 
deciphered. Some ladies who joined the American party 
examined it with considerable minuteness. His majesty did 
not seem* to be in the beheading humor when it was written. 
The learned keeper produced another piece of whose authen- 
ticity there could be no question : the copy of Henry's work 
in defence of the Catholic doctrine, of the seven sacraments, 
against Martin Luther, which work procured for his majesty 
so many polite compliments from the sainted reformers and 
for him and his successors from the Holy See the title of 
"Defender of the Faith" .which title those successors have 
with such admirably good taste preserved, whilst they robbed, 
whipped, banished, hanged, quartered, embowelled, and 
beheaded their beloved subjects for believing as his majesty 
then wrote ! The dedication of this work to His Holiness 
was subscribed by his majesty with his own royal hand, 
and- the work has been preserved ever since with care 
in the archives of the holy city. Monsignor Mezzofanti 
requested of the ladies to compare the signatures, which 
were palpably the work of the same hand. He was requested 
by them very naturally to give the history of the way in 
which the lady's letter came into the Vatican, which he did 
to our satisfaction ; but as I am so stupid, the chain of 
succession has got entangled in my memory, and I shall not 
just now venture to guess. Probably, if nothing more 
important banishes the determination, 1 shall ask my friend 
for the history, when next we meet, and shall try to recollect 
it for you then. 


This is the period when the examinations are made in 
all the schools and colleges in the city. I do not know 
exactly the number of students, but I am perhaps consid- 


erably under the mark in saying they are something over 
two thousand. On Thursday, July 17, I attended at the 
defence of his theses, by an American student at the Urban 
College, generally known as that of the Propaganda. The 
number of young men in this institution is over one 

The process is generally as follows : During the private 
examinations at the several periods of the year, by the 
professors of the college itself, and also at that towards 
the end of the academical season, by others as well as by the 
professors of the house, one or more of the best pupils 
are selected to defend the theses. A thesis, as your read- 
ers are aware, is a position or stated proposition. Several 
of these are selected from the scientific course, which the 
student publishes and declares that he will be ready, at a 
fixed time and place, to defend against all opponents. The 
lists are regularly prepared for this scholastic knight, who 
appears duly sustained to exhibit his powers ; nor is this 
tournament a mere idle display, in the rivalry of the 
schools ; there are often formidable encounters and numer- 
ous spectators, and not unfrequently serious disasters. There 
is a formidable Jesuit here, a professor of dogmatic the- 
ology at the Roman College, who has lately swept, in a 
comparatively short encounter, half a dozen of those youth- 
ful aspirants from the field of fame ; and their teachers 
were neither insensible nor inactive on and after the 
encounter. The effects of this carnage are not yet at an 
end ; gauntlet after gauntlet is flung down, and the Budges 
of such feats are in continual requisition 

On the present occasion, Martin John Spalding, 1 a Ken- 
tuckian and the senior student of the United States of 
North America, a pupil of the Urban College, published a 
respectful and manly Latin address to the congregation of 
cardinals presiding over the affairs of the Propaganda, in 
which, after wishing their eminences happiness and health, 

i Since Archbishop of Baltimore, and now dead. 


he informs them of what he considers the blessings diffused 
by their institution, for which they deserve thanks. As he 
has finished the usual course of studies, he has determined 
to express publicly his gratitude by sustaining his theses, 
expressing the doctrines which he shall endeavor to teach 
in those distant regions to which he is about to return. 
For this purpose he will appear, God willing, in the morn- 
ing, in the great hall of the college, when and where it 
shall be lawful for any one who thinks proper to contro- 
vert what he undertakes to defend. In the afternoon he 
will appear in the college chapel, where three select cham- 
pions will successively make their assaults, after which he 
will be ready to meet any other that might be disposed 
to try his strength. 

Then follows a list of two hundred and fifty-six propo- 
sitions which he undertakes to defend. They are drawn 
from the several treatises of theology and canon law ; copies 
of this were sent to the other colleges, and special invi- 
tations were given to several individuals whose attendance 
was particularly desirable. 

About half past eight o'clock on Thursday morning I 
arrived at the gate of the college, on the pavement in front 
of which was a profuse scattering of sweet-smelling green 
leaves ; the bay and myrtle predominated. The gate itself 
was open, and this fragrant path marked the way to the 
interior. The strewing continued up the great staircase, 
along the open gallery of the first floor, to the great door 
leading to the principal corridor, along this passage to the 
gate of the principal hall. This room, about eighty feet 
in length by forty wide and twenty in height, has its 
walls decorated with paintings of students of this college, 
under the inflictions of the deadly pain by which they were 
in remote regions martyred for their discharge of duty ; 
thus exhibiting to the youth who are therein educated the 
constancy which the Church expects from them under simi- 
lar circumstances. At the further extremity, opposite the 
door, was a carpeted platform elevated two steps. Upon 


this the young Kentuckian was seated, with a small table 
before him, having also next to him on one side his pro- 
fessor of theology, a Roman, and on the other his professor 
of law, a Bavarian count, who is a priest and rector of 
the college. The renowned scholar, Angelo Mai, presided, 
being seated on your right, as you entered the hall near 
this platform.. A range of chairs extended on either side, 
leaving a passage of about ten feet wide in the centre, 
from the door to the platform. These chairs were intended 
for cardinals, bishops, or other prelates and professors who 
might arrive. Ranges of benches parallel to these, on each 
side, behind, were pretty generally thronged by students of 
that and of other colleges and by many strangers. No car- 
dinal was present in the forenoon ; the Bishop of Charles- 
ton was the only prelate of the episcopal order. But 
several others of various grades, secular and regular, amongst 
whom were the rectors and professors of various colleges, 
occupied most of the chairs. 

The first argument had been concluded when I arrived; 
it was conducted by an Italian secular priest, whose name 
I could not learn. The second was made by a Dominican 
friar, a man of very great talent and ingenuity; he had 
also nearly concluded. An infirmarian, or. crutched friar, 
conducted the third with considerable spirit and ability. 
By the bye, you should in America say, that what I call a 
crutched friar, is in Italy called a crucifero, or " cross-bearer." 
He wears a red cross on the right breast of a black habit, 
and his obligation is to spend his time in attending the sick, 
especially in infirmaries. Hence I call him an infirmarian. 
This invaluable order of devoted men was founded by St. 
Camillo of Lellis. Next succeeded an Irishman, a student 
of the Roman Seminary, who did argue most lustily against 
the real presence and sacrifice of the Mass. The next was 
a German Jesuit, well known in the United States, Father 
Kohlman, who for nearly half an hour argued eloquently 
against the primacy of the Holy See. He was followed 
by Signor Rosa, one of the minutanti, and a professor of 
theology, who argued against the power of remitting all sins 


in the Sacrament of Penance. Dr. Wiseman, 1 Rector of the 
English College, next argued for the figurative meaning of 
the words of our Saviour, in the institution of the Eucharist, 
introducing various analagous passages from Persian, Arabic, 
and other Asiatic writers, some of which are pompously 
brought forward in the preface to ponderous tomes of 
polyglots, by an Oxford doctor of modern celebrity. The 
celebrated Monsignor Mezzofanti then followed with con- 
siderable subtlety and acutencss, when the great bell 
announced midday. 

The young American had now been upwards of four hours 
sharply engaged in scholastic disputation, in tne Latin lan- 
guage, with men of various nations and of no ordinary 
calibre, and had not failed or hesitated in a single answer. 

To a stranger the style of this mode of disputation is 
altogether a novelty. You are carried back by the intro- 
duction of the argument to all the pompous style of ancient 
heraldry and regulated courtesy of disputation. The dis- 
putant generally commences by a high wrought compliment 
to the institution, to its various officers, to the particular 
professor of the science in which he is to make his assault, 
to the genius and erudition of the defender; then speaks of 
his own defects, how reluctant he is to couch a lance against 
so powerful an opponent, but if he makes a pass or two', 
it is not in the vain hope of a victory for which there is 
no chance, but that taught by the prowess he will elicit, he 
may improve. He then commences his attack and presses 
on, generally with great vigor. The defender in turn pro- 
fesses the high estimation in which he holds his opponent; 
introducing in his description an enumeration of the offices 
he has held, the honors he has obtained, and the great 
qualities for which he is remarkable. Then he briefly 
recapitulates the argument, dissects it, and takes its separate 
parts for successive examination, and after having thus 
disposed of it, he says that he is inclined to think it not 
so strong as at first supposed., 

1 Sin^e CarJiral, and now dead. 


There was a recess for rest, dinner, and preparation for 
the afternoon. But on this occasion the assembly was more 
solemn. The disposition of the church was similar to that 
of the hall. The ecclesiastical dresses, however, were for 
cardinals, bishops, and other prelates, what were called 
robes of the second class ; the cardinals in red, the bishops 
in purple, and such of the other prelates as were entitled 
to it in the same color. The cardinals, of whom only seven 
were present, sat on very rich chairs on the right side of 
the chapel facing the door; those chairs were elevated one 
step above the level of the floor. Three chosen disputants 
occupied the first places on the opposite side, then the 
bishops, &c. The Swiss guards formed at the door and 
lined the passage. The exercises began with an exceedingly 
ingenious argument against the Primacy of St. Peter, made 
with great tact and skill by the prelate Raffaelle Fornari, 
Canonist of the Penitentiary, former Professor of Theology 
in the Propaganda, and a man of the very first ability. 
This lasted nearly three quarters of an hour. The second 
was on the subject of Greece, by Father Perrone, a Jesuit, 
Professor of Dogmatic Theology in the Roman College ; 
he is a man of the most profound research and great logical 
powers, with an admirable memory. The engagement lasted 
Tialf an hour. Nearly as long again was occupied in an 
argument against the divine character of Christianity, by 
Father Modena, Assistant to the Master of tbe Sacred Palace 
and a Dominican friar. The cardinals rose and shook hands 
with the Kcntuckian, who was carried away by his fellow- 
students in triumph. 

Thus ended the public disputation at about eight o'clock. 
This is a specimen of Roman schools and monkish ignorance. 


The charge of monkish ignorance, with all its unmeaning 1 
concomitants, comes against this city with a very bad grace 
from places where as yet comparatively little has been done 
to promote or to sustain a literary spirit. It is true Rome 


had her days of light, flimsy gossamer-like semblance of 
science. She had also her day of melancholy oppression. 
She has had the peace of her children destroyed by the 
turmoil of faction ; she has had to weep over the fury of 
her sons, and to mingle her tears with the torrents of their 
blood, not shed in the defence of public rights, but for the 
purposes of ambition. Religion often restrained and soothed 
the desperado ; but religion herself was sometimes trodden 
down and bruised and wounded in the unholy affrays pro- 
duced by the lust of power. In those days the din of 
confusion distracted even the monk in his cloister; and 
closing the pages or rolling up the parchment, he wept and 
prayed before the altar ; or if he came out, it was to make 
an effort for peace, it was to cast himself between the 
exasperated victor and his prostrate victim ; to lift the 
emblematic crucifix by which the God of mercy and the 
Judge of men admonished the one, and to fling the protecting- 
mantle of religion over the other. The day of tumult, the 
arena of faction, the intrigues of ambition, the contests of 
violence, are not favorable to the pursuits of literature. And 
in this holy city, as in all other places, human passions are 
found in human beings. Rome has had her vicissitudes. 
Yet may she look around in calm dignity, and with the 
roll of ages unfolded and the surface of the globe exhib- 
ited to the beholders, firmly ask where is her rival. The 
number of literary and scientific societies at present not 
merely in existence but in operation here, exceeds that of 
any other city that I know, or perhaps that is known. 
Instead of a general description, I shall give you a few 
details ; and those probably not one-fourth of what might 
be collected within the same period, as I was occupied in 
such a way as to leave me little leisure. 

The Academy of the Catholic Religion held one of its 
stated meetings on the evening of Thursday, April 24. 
The president of this academy is the Most Rev. Dr. John 
Soglia, Archbishop of Ephesus ; the secretary ad interim is 
the Rev. Father John Baptist Rosani, Procurator-General 


of the Eegular Clerks for Pious Schools. The academy 
consists of a large number of highly talented and erudite 
clergymen and laymen, and they have a very respectable 
body of honorary members in various parts of the 
world. The object is to make those literary researches 
which are demanded by the peculiar circumstances of the 
times, for the illustration and support of the Catholic 
religion. They meet in a large hall at the Roman Uni- 
versity, generally called the Sapienza. On this evening 
Father Olivieri, General of the Dominican friars, read an 
extremely interesting and erudite essay, to prove that, with- 
out a knowledge of Sacred Scriptures, it was utterly 
impossible to have any accurate notions of either the 
antiquities or the history of Egypt. The substance of the 
composition is given in the following outline : Some well- 
deserved compliments to the exertions of the learned acade- 
mician, Monsignor Testa, for his famous dissertation, by 
which was demonstrated the correct epoch of the zodiac of 
Denderah, that by some exquisites is thrown back to ages 
before the flood, and by others to ages before the crea- 
tion ; he then remarked upon the value of those Egyptian 
monuments, which, whatever might be the object of those 
that sought and produced them, gave, by their own authentic 
symbols and explanations, results always favorable to the 
cause of religion. Upon this principle he considered Egypt 
as connected with the great facts of sacred history ; he 
enumerated the several kinds of antiquities remaining to us. 
A vast collection is found in the galleries of the Vatican, 
and some in other parts of the city. He showed the aids 
furnished by profane erudition, especially from the cata- 
logues of monarchs of the Egyptian dynasties; he proved that, 
without the help of the sacred volumes, it is impossible to 
make any reasonable distribution of those numbers. Accord- 
ing to the chronology which approximates nearest to the 
Hebrew copies considered as most to be relied upon and 
to the Latin Vulgate, it is impossible to go beyond Cham, 
the son of Noe. The journeys of Abraham and his sojourn 


in Egypt exhibit, as does all the history of that period, 
the infancy of political institutions in that country, the 
monuments of which cannot precede the time of Joseph, 
the great-grandson of Abraham, under whose administration 
the power and grandeur of the Egyptian monarchs had 
their origin. Finally, the learned academician demonstrated, 
with evidence, that the arts and sciences had no earlier 
origin than the days of his administration in that country, 
which was one of the most precocious of Africa, and equal, 
perhaps, to any in Asia. He showed that, previous to the 
deluge, considerable progress had been made in many of 
the arts which flourished in ancient Egypt; and that a 
mighty process of time would not be required for the 
attainment of such a grade of knowledge, seeing that God 
had created man in a state of adult vigor, endowed with 
language for the communication of ideas, and with infor- 
mation necessary not only for the preservation of life, but 
for the father of future generations. The meeting Avas well 
attended ; amongst those present were Cardinals Pedicini, 
Zurla, and Lambruschini, ordinary canons of the academy; 
several archbishops, bishops, distinguished prelates, nobles, 
and literary men of various ranks. 

The Archaeological Academy is a very highly respectable 
society, which holds its meetings in the great hall of the 
Roman Archiginnasio. Its object is the illustration of ancient 
monuments, and especially the correction of any popular errors 
respecting those generally best known. Protector, Cardinal 
Galleffi ; President, the Marquis Commander Louis Biondi ; 
Secretary, the Cavaliere Peter Hercules Visconti. In such 
a city as Rome, a society of this description is most use- 
ful. The number of ancient Pagan monuments that line 
the wall on your right, as you enter by the long passage 
to the galleries and chambers of statues in the Vatican 
the corresponding monuments of early Christianity on your 
left the succession of Egyptian monuments in the various 
chambers by which you pass to that which contains the 
iine painting of George IV of England, by Sir Thomas 


Lawrence, and the casts of the Grecian marble, not to 
speak of the vast quantities daily produced from the exca- 
vations, would well employ many learned antiquarians. 

A stated meeting was held on the 12th of June, under 
the presidency of the Marquis Biondi. The Academician 
Cavaliere T. Monaldi pronounced the eulogy of Domenico 
Sestina, a noble Florentine, deeply learned in the knowl- 
edge of medals, and a corresponding member of the academy. 
The secretary then produced an ancient Italian vase, con- 
siderably adorned with figures, and which was found in 
the month of last December in the excavations near Bol- 
sena, and which now belongs to the collection of Signer 
Campanari, in this city. The learned secretary showed that 
it contained amongst others representations of the last 
libation made by Hector on parting from Priam and Hecuba 
previous to encountering Achilles. He thence took occasion 
to discuss the origin of the Italian arts, and of the poets 
who inspired the artists, vindicating in arts for Italy a 
priority over Greece. There were present on the occasion 
Cardinals Zurla, Sala, Castracane, Gazzoli, Mattei, and Gri- 
maldi, all honorary members. His eminence Cardinal James 
Monico, Patriarch of Venice, was admitted to honorary 

Another meeting of this Society was held on the evening 
of the 26th of June, on which occasion the secretary con- 
tinued the reading of a dissertation of which he had given 
a portion at a previous meeting. It was by the corre- 
sponding member and associate, Cavaliere Prockesch d'Osten, 
on the antiquities of the Island of Naxos. Then an illustra- 
tion was given of a military diploma of the Emperor Adrian, 
now first brought to view. It was written by the corre- 
sponding member and associate, Signor Clement Cardinali. 
At this meeting there were present Cardinals Zurla, Sala, 
and Grimaldi, honorary members, besides many others of 
high respectability. 

On the 19th of June there was another meeting of the 
Academy of the Catholic Religion, on which occasion the 


Rev. Secretary read a very fine essay of the academician, 
Cavaliere Angelo Maria Ricci, a Knight of Malta and an 
excellent poet, " On the influence which the Catholic religion 
has always had on the progress of literature and the fine 
arts." The best judges of style gave high praises to this 
composition, for its perspicuity, elegance, varying harmony 
with the varying tone of the subject, and a simple sweet- 
ness of delicate, natural expression. Since Charles Villers 
obtained the prize from the National Institute of France in 
1802 for his essay to show that the religious changes 
made by Luther improved literature and the arts, it has 
to a certain extent been fashionable to copy, to imitate, or 
to emulate his effort. The academician reviewed the alle- 
gations of a whole host of those gentry, showing upon how 
flimsy a foundation they rested, going from age to age of 
previous centuries to exhibit that before the bold professor 
of Wittenberg ventured upon the defence of the first thesis, 
the arts and sciences had attained and lost, and ; gain 
attained, again lost many of those accidental improvements 
which were with so little reason attributed to his innova- 
tions. The principles and powers of sound criticism were 
here well applied. 

It was demonstrated in the fullness of evidence, that in 
the dark days of a desolating barbarism, which anti-Christian 
hordes spread over the civilized countries of Europe, the 
fine arts, science, and literature owed their asylum to Popes, 
bishops, and monks, who preserved, cultivated, cherished, 
and restored them until, by their indefatigable and protracted 
exertions, those ferocious conquerors were softened into 
humanity, subjected to religion, and brought to the porch of 
civilization ; that as society, thus reformed, was advancing 
towards perfection, these ennobling appendages were also 
receiving their development. The essayist then proceeded 
by analysis, by comparison, and by examples to show how 
much the spirit of the Catholic religion and the purity of 
its morality contributed to render more sublime and perfect 
the conceptions of the poet, of the philosopher, and of 
the artist. 


The meeting was attended by cardinals Castracane and 
Grimaldi, by the Archbishop of Acrida, and by many 
distinguished prelates, nobles, clergy, and other literary 

The object of the Academy of St. Luke is the encourage- 
ment, improvement and cultivation of the fine arts. Its 
officers are: President, Cavaliere Gaspare Salvi; Vice- 
President, Professor Thomas Minardi; Ex-President, Cavaliere 
Antonio D'Estre; Secretary of the Council, Professor Louis 
Poletti ; Steward, Clement Caval Folchi ; Perpetual Secretary 
of the Academy, Professor Salvatore Batti. 

In the schools, there are the following professorships : 
Painting, two, Pozzi and Minardi ; Sculpture, two, Thor- 
waldsen and Tenerani ; Theory of Architecture, Gaspare 
Salvi; Practical Architecture, Valadier; Elementary and Orna- 
mental Architecture, Julius Camporesa; Geometry, Perspective, 
and Optics, Peter Delicati; Anatomy, Cajetan Albites; History, 
Mythology, and Dress, Salvatore Batti. Besides the above 
who are in actual employment, there are belonging to the 
Society resident professors of merit, that is, men whose 
professional merits, duly ascertained, have entitled them 
to be enrolled ; of them there are of the several classes, 
the following number : Class of Painting Councillors, 8 ; 
Academicians of merit, 4 ; Landscapes, 4 ; Engravers of 
copper-plate, 2. Every name here is that of a man high in 
fame. Class of Sculpture Councillors, 8; Academicians 
of merit, 4; Engravers in steel and hard stone, 3. Class 
of Architecture Councillors, 8 ; Academicians of merit, 4. 
This is a first rate institution. The schools, all of which 
are supported by the Pope, and the lectures in which are 
gratuitous, are held in the Roman University or Archiginnasio. 

At a meeting of this academy on the 6th of this month, 
the president in the chair, he spoke upon several topics, 
but particularly of a receipt, dated June 28, by which he 
assigns a rich uniform dress, to be worn on state occasions 
by the professors of merit of this institute. It reckons 
amongst its honorary members several of the most distin- 


guished men of various nations, eminent patrons of the fine 
arts or cultivators of science connected therewith. 

On the 30th of June, by a joint regulation of both the 
Archaeological Academy and that of St. Luke, they held 
their yearly joint assembly; on this occasion the great hall 
was decorated with peculiar splendor. His eminence, Cardinal 
Dom Placido Zurla, Vicar-General of Rome, Prefect of the 
Council of Studies, a Benedictine monk of the congregation 
of Camaldoli, and probably one of the most polished scholars, 
and most eloquent men in Europe, was the orator. His 
theme was the influence of religion on the fine arts. He 
dwelt principally on the sublime group of Canova in the 
Chapel of the Pieta at St. Peter's, as well as on the other 
splendid productions by means of which genius consigned 
the fame of the artist to the care of immortality. Canova 
was president of both the societies. The close logical 
reasoning, the glowing and distinct illustrations, and the 
expanded philosophical reflections which flowed in such 
strong and harmonious language from this eminent, good, 
and extraordinarily active man, now in the sixty-sixth year 
of his age, delighted his auditory and drew forth repeated 
bursts of applause. Amongst those present were noticed the 
Cardinal Camerlengo Galleffi, protector of both societies, 
Cardinals Macchi, Lambruschini, Sala, Castracane, Monico r 
Polidori, Rlvarola, Gazzoli, Mattei, and Grimaldi. The 
treasurer, Tosti, better known as the president of the fine 
establishment of San Michele, and a very large body of 
prelates, nobility, and literary men, and patrons of the arts, 
most of whom, as are all above named, were honorary 
members of one or both academies. It was thought by some 
that the Pope would attend to compliment the orator, who- 
is his confessor, and formerly was his superior, as they are 
monks of the same order, but His Holiness was not present. 


On the afternoon of the 6th of July the Tiberine Acad- 
emy held a stated meeting at its hall in the Palazzo Muti, 
at Aracreli, near the capitol ; President, Charles Marquis 


Antichi ; secretary, the lawyer John Baptist de Dominis. 
The object is the cultivation of polite literature ; occasion- 
ally, or rather as incidentally connected with the principal 
object, antiquities. I believe this academy has public meet- 
ings every week for a considerable portion of the year. 
Their president is elected annually. This .meeting was one 
of what is called " di libero argomento," which gives 
greater scope to the academicians to introduce any species 
of composition. 

On the evening of the 6th the president began by read- 
ing a production of his own, exceedingly well written, 
pointing out the principles and regulations by whose means 
the theatre might, without difficulty, be made truly profit- 
able, as an institution for public instruction as well as 
a public amusement. He was followed by the vice-president 
of this year, the Rev. Father, Master John Baptist Rosani, 
procurator-general of the pious schools and professor of 
eloquence in the Nazarene College. This learned and respect- 
able clergyman read what was called a very fine piece of 
heroic poetry composed by him for the occasion, but I could 
'not well understand the subject. The learned and polished 
scholar, Cavaliere Angelo Maria Ricci, followed with a short 
composition called "il Capitolo," which is a poetic vision 
in the style of Dante, the lyric ode. The secretary intro- 
duced the architect, Gaspare Servi, who read a composition 
styled "i Decasillabi," or lyric poetry of ten- syllables in each 
line. This gentleman is one of the council of the year for 
the Tiberine Academy. Epigrams were produced in Italian 
and Latin by Cavaliere Michael Angelo Barberi and the 
Abbate Don Antonio Somai, the treasurer. Sonnets and 
other light productions by the following academicians were 
interspersed, viz., Count Thomas Gnoli, dean of the con- 
sistorial advocates, Rev. Raimondo Pigliacelli, professor of 
theology in the Urban College of the Propaganda, Messrs. 
Philip Zampi, of the council, and Hannibal Lepsi, perpetual 
archivist of the academy. 

The Linchi, or Lynxes, is considered one of the most 


scientific academies of the city. The proper title is Nuovi 
Linchi, or New Lynxes. The old society to which it suc- 
ceeds had done an immensity for science, but had ceased 
to exist. The principal object is to look out with the 
watchfulness designated by the name for the discoveries 
and improvements of natural philosophy in every place, and 
to turn them to advantage. The Cavaliere Don Feliciano 
Scarpellini, a respectable priest, is the director and per- 
petual secretary. Their meeting place is in the capitol, in 
which is an observatory under the care of this learned 
director; there is another at the Roman College under the 
care of the Jesuits. 

On the evening of the 13th a meeting of this academy 
was held, at which nine cardinals were present, besides a 
great number of prelates of various grades and several of 
the nobility, clergy, and literati. The session was opened 
with an oration delivered by Cardinal Odescalchi, Bishop of 
Sabina, Vice-Chancellor of the Holy See, archpriest of the 
Basilica of St. John Lateran, and prefect of the congrega- 
tion of affairs of bishops and regulars. In it his eminence, 
in fine language, exhibited and described the motives which 
animated and urged Prince Frederick Cesi, the founder of 
this excellent academy. 

This cardinal was followed by the Cavaliere Scarpellini, 
a man dear to science and to literature, precious to this 
academy, to which he concentrates honorable and heavy 
labors. He gave a summary of the academical acts of the 
past year, in which he exhibited the exertions and progress 
of the distinguished members and their merited rewards. 
He dwelt with peculiar emphasis and satisfaction on an 
exceedingly useful discovery in optics, by the illustrious 
Signor Alberto Gatti, the extraordinary perfection given to 
reflecting mirrors in pictra dura, and which is a matter of 
the very first importance in the construction of telescopes. 
In doing so he not only bestowed the due meed of praise 
on the inventor, but paid a just compliment to the papal 
government, which animated, aided, and urged him forward 


in his exertions, as also to the academy that saw the 
utility of the discovery and exerted itself to procure the 
advantage for science and the credit for Rome. 

On the evening of the 10th of this month the Academy 
of the Archseologia held their last stated meeting for the 
academical year. They will not assemble for ordinary busi- 
ness until after October. On this occasion the secretary 
read a dissertation transmitted by the corresponding asso- 
ciate, Cavaliere Luigi Nardi, in which he gives the history 
of the commentaries of Pope Pius II, who died in 1464 r 
having governed the Church nearly six years. The asso- 
ciate describes the different editions of this work, and 
informs the academy that an apograph, or antique MS. 
copy of these commentaries of an early date has been 
found in the Gambalunga of Rimino, which has many very 
fine and useful passages, by which this work of the learned 
pontiff can be well corrected and made perfect, as has long 
been desired. 

The secretary then entered upon a train of reasoning in 
regard to the early culture of Indian arts, based on the paint- 
ing of an antique Italian vase, found this year in the Bol- 
senian excavations, and kept in the fine collection of the 
Campanari in this city. This vase is a Tyrrhenian pitcher 
two Roman palms and nine inches in height. On the 
principal side it exhibits, distinguished by their names, Ajax 
and Achilles. They appear to have cast lots to decide, as 
the secretary supposes, some military contest. The perfect 
execution of the figures in black upon a yellow ground, in 
the best style, does honor to the artist already well knoAyn 
by other discovered works ; he has marked his name, 
Ezecia, in two places upon this vessel, which is one of 
the most precious that is known. 

Besides the above, I know the following : The Academy 
of Noble Ecclesiastics : Protector, Cardinal Pacca, dean of 
the sacred college, and Bishop of Ostia; President, the Most 
Rev. James Sinibaldi, Archbishop of Damietta. Theological 
Academy, holding its meeting in the Roman University : 


Protectors, Cardinals Pacca, Zurla, Lambruschini, and Albano ; 
Secretary, Rev. Angelo Mai. Unica of Ecclesiastics of St. 
Paul, held in the Church of Sant. Appolonara : Protector, 
Cardinal Zurla ; First Regulator, Most Rev. John Soglia, 
Archbishop of Ephesus; Secretary-General, Rev. Pius Bigui. 
The Arcadia, for lighter literature, and improvisation ; its 
ordinary meetings are held at the Serbatorio, in the Via 
del Lavatore, near the splendid fountain of Trevi; the 
solemn ones at the capitol : Guardian-General, the Rev. 
Gabriel Laureani; Pro-Guardian, Don Paolo Barola. The 
Latin Academy holds its sessions in the Palazzo Sinibaldi ; 
of this, the lawyer Francis Guadagni is president, and 
Signor Frederic Petrilli is secretary. The Philharmonic 
Academy unites perhaps the most splendid assemblage of 
vocal and instrumental performers in any one body in the 
world. I have been more than once at their performance, 
to which, in the proper seasons, the respectable strangers 
in the city are generously invited. It is a pity that their 
rooms are not larger. The principal one would scarcely 
accommodate four hundred persons. Prince D. Francis Bor- 
ghese is president of the Academy, and Signor Joseph Spada 
is secretary; their rooms are in the Palazzo Lancelloti, near 
the Piazza Navona. The Philodramatic Academy holds its 
meetings at No. 18, near the Palazzo Cesarini in the Via 
del Pavone, under the presidency of the commander, Pietro 
of the Princes Odescalchi ; the secretary is Signor Joseph 
Capobianchi. The names of these several societies suffi- 
ciently denote with the explanations given what are their 
general objects. I do not know of any other. I believe 
they are twelve in all. 

The Theological Schools are numerous, and the rivalry 
in science is not small. Amongst those schools one belonging 
to the Franciscan Order has lately made a considerable 
display. In 1588, Pope Sixtus V founded the College of 
St. Bonaventure in the Convent of the XII Apostles, for 
young minor conventual students. This has generally sus- 
tained a fair character and produced some learned men. In 


last June, a triennial examination for degrees was held, and 
the objectors were not idle. The bachelors who had attained 
their first honors in the provincial schools of the Order, 
now came to this college not only to seek their higher grade 
by examination, but also, by literary contest, to seek for the 
pre-eminence of their several schools and teachers. Cardinal 
Brancadoro, who is now seventy-nine years of age and thirty- 
three years a cardinal, and is the senior on the bench of 
cardinal-priests, is Archbishop of Fermo and protector of 
this college. Being unable to attend, he requested Pacca, 
the cardinal-dean to represent him. The degrees of the 
successful candidates were conferred under the regency of 
the Rev. Father, Master Hyacinth Guarlerni, on Saturday 
the 12th inst. After which the Rev. Father Collegial, 
Antonio Casaro of Calatafemi, in Sicily, who had been 
.selected for the purpose, defended his theses, which he had 
dedicated to Cardinal Brancadoro. The defence was made 
in the Church of the XII. I remained "only a few moments, 
and as the propositions that I saw selected by the objectors 
were mere squabbles upon scholastic opinions, I took but 
little interest in the useless subtlety of metaphysical abstrac- 
tion in which they were engaged. 

The following is a list of the theological seminaries and 
colleges of Rome, besides that of the Roman University or 
Sapienza. I give them here as they are recognized, though 
in many instances two are united in one establishment, and 
others, though they keep separate houses, yet attend the 
same course of lectures: 1. The Roman Seminary for the 
diocese of Rome. 2. The Seminary of the Chapter of St. 
Peter's, for that church, etc. Colleges : 3. The Roman, 
taught by the Jesuits. 4. The Urban, at the Propaganda. 
5. Germanico-Hungarian, at the Gesii. G. Of St. Thomas 
of Aquin. 7. Salviati. 8. Capranicense. 9. English. 10. 
Scotch, now at the Propaganda. 11. Irish. 12. Greek, at 
the Propaganda. 13. Maronist, do. 14. Ginnasi. 15. Pam- 
phili. 16. Bandinelli. 17. Ghislieri. 18. Clementine. 19. 
Nazarine. 20. Sabine. 21. Of Liege. 22. Of Neophytes. 
23. Carasoli Piceno. 


The Roman University, or the Sapienza, is an institu- 
tion of vast literary convenience and unusual facilities. Its 
body of professors is a host indeed ; its schools open to 
every aspirant. I shall give you the summary. The Car- 
dinal Camerlengo of the Holy Roman Church is ex-offieio 
arch-chancellor of this university. (Galleffi is at present 
Camerlengo.) Deputy-rector : Monsignor Jerome Bontadosi, 
consistorial advocate. The first college is that of consistorial 
advocates, consisting of a dean, secretary, and seven mem- 
bers. The vice-rector is the advocate, Raffaelle Bertinelli. 
Second college: Theologians, a president, secretary, and four- 
teen members, of whom two only are seculars ; the others 
of the various religious orders. Third college : Medicine 
and Surgery, a dean, secretary, and sixteen doctors. Fourth 
college: Philosophy, a president and thirteen members. Fifth 
college : Philology, u president and eight members. In the 
lists of the above councillors is many a learned name. Pro- 
fessors and Lecturers : 1 . Sacred Department. Holy Scrip- 
tures, one ; Speculative Theology, three ; Theological topics, 
one; Moral Theology, one; Ecclesiastical History, one; Sacred 
Physics, one. 2. Department of Laws. Natural Law and 
Law of Nations, one ; Public Ecclesiastical Law, one ; Insti- 
tutions of Canon Law, one ; Texts of Canon Law, one ; 
Institutes of Civil Law, one ; Texts of Civil Law, two ; 
Institutes of Criminal Law, one. 3. Department of Medi- 
cine and Surgery. Anatomical Institutes, one ; Physiology, 
one ; Elements of Chemistry, one ; Botany, one ; Practical 
Botany, one ; Pathology, etc., one ; Therapeutics and Ma- 
teria Medica, one ; Theory and Practice of Medicine, one ; 
Medical Jurisprudence, one ; Clinical Lectures, two ; Com- 
parative Anatomy and Natural History of Animals, one ; 
Surgery, etc., one; Obstetrics, one; Clinical Surgery, one; 
Practical Pharmacy, one ; Veterinary Surgery, one. 4. De- 
partment of Philosophy. Experimental Physics, one ; Intro- 
duction to the Calculus, one ; Sublime Calculus, one ; Me- 
chanics and Hydraulics, one ; Optics and Astronomy, one ; 
Architecture as connected with Statics and Hydraulics, one; 


Descriptive Geometry, one; Mineralogy and Natural History, 
one; Archaeology, one. 5. Department of Philosophy. Latin 
and Italian Eloquence and Roman History, one ; Hebrew, 
one; Arabic, one; Syro-Chaldaic, one. Besides these forty- 
seven professors, all paid by the Pope, there are six jubi- 
lated or superannuated professors, five emeriti, or persons 
having honorably retired, and two honorary, not counting 
the director of the chancery. Yet Home is the enemy of 

learning ! 


August 1st was the Festival of the Liberation of St. Peter, 
or as it is called, " St. Peter's Chains," and I was desirous 
of being present at the church at which it is celebrated, 
but a slight indisposition prevented my going out in the 
morning. In the afternoon I got into a carriage and told 
the coachman to drive to the Esquiline Hill to San Pietro 
in Vincola. When I arrived, I found the open space in 
front occupied by carriages, a few beggars, and a consid- 
erable number of persons going in and coming out. A 
large screen of canvass was extended forward like a shed 
at a considerable height, attached to the front of the church, 
to keep off the scorching sun, and the ground was strewed 
with bay and other sweet-smelling evergreens and shrubs. 
Upon entering the church I perceived they were chanting 
the solemn second vespers at the principal altar. The 
church was decorated with fine crimson silk and gold lace, 
covering many of the columns in the principal parts, and 
a large portion of the walls. Other tapestry covered other 
parts. The abbot was seated at the epistle side of the 
altar, coped and mitred, and his community occupied their 
places in the recess behind the altar, to its front, for this 
i.s one of the old-fashioned altars whose back is to the 
church. I took my place in the transept on the same side, 
under the splendid and powerful organ, having opposite to 
me at the other extremity of the transept the magnificent 
mausoleum of Pope Julius II of which the extraordinary 


statue of Moses, by Michael Angelo, forms the most striking 
part. The music was indeed rich and varied, and the 
singing of the choir was exquisite. 

About midway between the porch and the altar, on your 
right hand as you enter, is the altar upon which the relics 
from which the church takes its title were placed on this 
festival. It was richly decorated, and the candles were 
lighted. A fine casket of considerable size contained the 
relics. They are the chains with which it is said the 
Apostle St. Peter was bound in Jerusalem and in Rome, 
and which are believed to have miraculously united. I 
have not as yet examined the evidence on which the asser- 
tion rests ; and as it is no article of faith, I am not 
called upon to believe farther than my own judgment will 
have dictated after having examined the special grounds of 
the assertion. I shall, for the present, suppose the truth 
of the statement. I have a promise from the abbot of 
being furnished with a copy of the testimony, which I 
shall examine at my leisure. From time to time a priest 
in a surplice and stole came, properly accompanied, to the 
altar, opened the casket, and drawing out the chain, one 
extremity of which remained fastened to the interior of 
the case itself, applied the other extremity to the necks 
of those who knelt before him, after which they kissed the 
relic, whilst he repeated a short form of prayer on their 
behalf. As I had not the opportunity of examining the 
church and relics as closely as I could wish, by reason of 
the service and of the crowd, I departed, determined to go 
this morning, at an early hour, for that purpose. 

Accordingly, I went and had every facility. I saw the 
abbot, who is an exceedingly learned man, Dom Paolo Del 
Signore, Professor of Church History in the Roman Univer- 
sity, and having told him my desire to examine minutely 
the chains and their history, he kindly accompanied me, 
and directed all concerned with any department of the 
establishment, to give me full information, aid and oppor- 


I went to the altar upon which the chains were placed. 
This case stands upon four short silver-gilt legs, about an 
inch in height; it is made of hard wood, lined with velvet, 
and covered outside with plates of highly chased silver ; 
it is about eight or ten inches high, about fifteen or six- 
teen inches front and twelve deep ; the cover, which is 
solidly attached, rises gradually towards the centre from 
four sides, to about two inches in height, and the projec- 
tion is less than half an inch, the entire in the form of 
a roof nearly square. A child, finely executed in silver, 
with loose, flying drapery, stands on its summit, his right 
hand moderately extended and holding a tiara, his left 
gracefully and easily carried across his chest, towards the 
right side, a little above the hip, and from it hangs a 
chain. The chasing is principally free fancy scroll-work 
around seraphim. The front is a gate, having two large 
oval glazed apertures, through which you see the links of 
chain coiled up within the case. I opened this and drew 
out the chain. It consists of thirty-two links of moderate 
size, from three to four inches in length ; I should sup- 
pose the heaviest link would not exceed the weight of six 
ounces. At one extremity is a light sort of hoop suffi- 
ciently large to embrace the neck or both wrists ; it con- 
sists of two parts united to each other and to the chain 
by a rivet or gudgeon, oh which, as on a hinge, they 
turn ; one of these has a loop or eye at its extremity, 
and the other two prongs, one of which being introduced 
into the eye both might with some force be so twisted 
together as to secure the junction, and confine whatever 
was enclosed by the hoop. Upon close examination it will 
be easily perceived that there are three descriptions of 
links : four are much lighter and more delicate than the 
rest, and one by which they are united to the others has 
the soldering of the junction made with silver. These links 
arc said to have belonged to the chain with which St. 
Paul was bound. A number of the other links, I did not 
count how many, but I should suppose eight or ten, are 


less gross than the others, and appear much more worn at 
the places of contact. No mark of junction, however, is 
observable; and it is, moreover, asserted that one of the 
chains with which the Apostle was bound under Herod in 
Jerusalem, having been given in that city to Eudocia, the 
Empress of Theodosius the Younger, was sent by her to 
Rome to her daughter Eudoxia, who brought it to the 
Pope, and he had in his possession a chain with which the 
Apostle had been bound in Rome under Nero. Both chains 
formed, as it were, a spontaneous union, by the immediate 
influence of the divine power; and the links of St. Paul's 
chain having been added, they are preserved as memorials 
and relics, by means of which the faith of the people 
might be strengthened, and on regular days of solemn 
observance, the facts might be better brought under public 
consideration, and the gratitude and piety of the multitude 
increased, in like manner as God Himself regulated the 
exhibition of the brazen serpent to the multitude of Israel, 
the preservation of the manna in the ark, the rod of 
Aaron, and other relics which the chosen people long held 
in pious veneration. One of these links is fastened to the 
interior of the case with a hasp ; and the case itself, whilst 
it remains upon this altar, is chained to it, and under 
continual observation. It is exhibited twice in the year ; 
once on a day within the octave of SS. Peter and Paul, 
I think the 3d of July and the 1st of August, and during 
their octaves. The painting at this altar is the delivery 
of Peter from prison by the angel, as related in Acts xii. 
At other times the relic, enclosed in its casket, is placed 
in a large case of less costly materials, and kept in a 
recess in the wall of the society with some other relics. 
This recess is closed by an iron grating, the key of whose 
lock is held by the abbot. Outside this grate is a beau- 
tiful bronze gate with two locks, the key of one of which 
is kept by the cardinal, who is titular of this church, at 
present Castracane degli Antimenelli, and the other by the 
Pope's major-domo, at present the Most Rev. Dr. Patrizi, 
Archbishop of Philippi. 


The church is built upon the site of the baths of Titus, 
on the Esquiline, not very far from the Coliseum. The 
-original building, which dates as far back as the end of 
the fifth century, did not extend beyond the present main 
nave as far as the transept. This is easily distinguished 
from the rest ; it consists of three aisles separated by two 
colonnades crowned with arches ; the middle aisle is about 
forty feet wide, and each of the others about half that 
Avidth. In each of those, I may call them arcades, are 
ten fine fluted Doric columns of Grecian marble taken 
from the baths of Dioclesian ; each shaft is but a single 
block, upwards of twenty feet in length. Upon a smart 
friction with iron, a sub-sulphureous smell is perceptible. 
At the termination of this middle aisle is a lofty arch, 
;sustained by two fine columns of granite with marble cap- 
itols of the composite order ; this begins the more recent, 
but yet sufficiently ancient part of the building. The large 
conch-like recess which forms the sanctuary was a portion 
of the baths of Titus. The altar and choir are on the 
ancient model; the altar considerably forward, with its back 
towards the church, so that the celebrant standing at it faces 
the congregation ; and the benches of the choir attached to 
the wall of the recess, with the president's seat at its 
extremity exactly facing the altar, but having it between 
him and the people. I shall not in this place speak of 
its decorations, or paintings, or any other particulars. Be- 
tween this recess and the old church of Eudoxia is the 
transept, a fine open space. When you enter it and look 
towards the altar, you have on your left a beautiful organ, 
and on your right, at the other extremity, the splendid 
monument of Julius II, who died in 1513. I cannot 
undertake to describe this. But probably, as few of your 
readers have seen accounts of it, I shall give them a very 
faint idea of this great work of the celebrated sculptor, 
whose conceptions were all gigantic as his genius. 

The monument occupies the larger portion of the ex- 
tremity of the transept, and consists of two stories. The 


lower has three compartments, and is upwards of twenty- 
feet high. Four immense blocks of pure white marble 
projecting from the back and formed into partitions, whose 
fronts are decorated with bold and beautiful scrolls and 
bear various emblematic devices, give a division of three 
great stalls, of which that in the centre is much the largest. 
Seated in this, considerably forward, in an easy, dignified, 
and commanding attitude, in a loose, flowing robe, with the 
tables of the law resting in his right hand, the colossal figure 
of the mighty leader of the host of Israel fixes the attention 
of the most negligent. Every joint is massive, every limb 
is immense, but the entire is in the most symmetrical pro- 
portion. The muscles of that arm which smote the rock 
seem braced as the rock itself, and yet you would imagine 
that the finger of an infant would leave the impression of 
its touch upon the surface ; the drapery would change its 
tblds in the agitation of breeze, or with the motion of the 
limb it covers. There is something expressively majestic in 
the flowing of those wreaths of beard; the eye shows keen 
vigor and penetration, and looks upon some object of mighty 
moment, with a degree of interest, mingled with momentary 
satisfaction and the consciousness of the power to command ; 
the lips are parted, and we are not astonished to hear, that 
the mighty artist, when he perfected his work, stood with 
his own eye riveted upon that face, and after the absorption 
of his faculties, carried away by his feeling, and anxious to 
know what lay concealed, impatiently struck the knees, which 
he could reach with his chisel, and cried, " Speak ! " 

The figure of Meditation in the niche on his right, and 
that of Prudence on his left, would, if placed elsewhere, be 
well worthy of attention. They as well as those over them 
were made by Mateo Lupo ; but the observer is perpetu- 
ally drawn off, without perceiving the process by which it 
is effected, to the principal figure itself. 

The second story is divided in like manner. The Pon- 
tiff, Julius II, is reclining in a posture half raised from 
his cushion, and stooping forward as if to point the 


observers to the contemplation of the sainted Hebrew who 
sits below. He is in pontificals, wearing his tiara. In a 
niche considerably above him is a finely executed statue 
of Religion, w y ith a child in her arms ; this innocent holds 
a bird that attracts his attention ; as far as I could observe 
it was a dove, emblematic of himself. In the recesses at 
each side of the Pontiff are Temperance on the right and 
Pontifical Sagacity upon the left. The effect produced by 
the group is magnificent. 

Turning to my left, to enter the sacristy by a door 
which is to the right of the monument, my attention was 
arrested by the painting over the altar which was close at 
hand, and which terminated the right aisle of the church. 
It was not large, nor was the light strong, nor the piece 
very distinctly seen, yet I saw it was worthy of a mas- 
ter's name. I am no connoisseur. I am ignorant of those 
phrases which are familiar even to companions of the vir- 
tuosi. But I know when I am affected; and generally I 
can discover what occasions the feeling. A fine female 
figure, in which calm dignity, without affectation, and the 
expression of a noble intellect, were blended with the intre- 
pidity of that heroism which becomes her sex, and that 
softness and delicacy which are compatible with the strength 
and vigor and healthful firmness of attained womanhood. 
A terrific dragon, whose glaring eyeballs showed a raging 
fire that burned without consuming, its distended mouth 
exhibiting a projected tongue whose point was formidable 
and whose livid hue denoted the poison with which it was 
swollen, gave also to view its destructive ranges of teeth. 
The vapor which issued from the throat of this monster 
seemed pestilential even to the eye ; and many a scaly and 
nervous fold was discerned through the murky mass which 
covered the abyss that glowed below. With her eye steadily 
fixed on the monster, Margaret serenely contemplated the 
vain efforts that he made ; whilst her right hand steadily 
held aloft, even within his view, that cross by which she 
was protected. How beautifully impressive was the lesson 


that it taught; showing at once the violence, the fury, and 
the origin of passion, and the facility with which it is 
overcome by the powerful application of the merits of a 
crucified Saviour ! The brother drew aside the curtains 
from the window. The countenance of the saint was mildly 
radiant; and the fire of the assailant seemed more hot. 
Her serenity was undisturbed, her drapery was exquisite. 
Hers was the expression of that humble consciousness of 
divine support, by which victory is felt as secure even 
before the close of the contest. I asked who was the 
artist. " He was," said the brother, " a man who wanted 
bread. He had genius, but he found no protector. He 
would have died of hunger, but for the canons regular of 
the Lateran Basilica; for such is our title, though others 
have been substituted for us in that church. Our commu- 
nity saved Guercino from want, and in return for the hos- 
pitality he received, he repaid us by his pencil." "And 
this St. Margaret is by Guercino," said I. 

Leaving the altar of St. Margaret, we went towards the 
sacristy. The hall into which we first entered had a finely 
paved floor of large mosaic, many of the component parts 
of which were pietra dura, or precious stone, as contradis- 
tinguished from marble. The pavement itself was that of 
the ancient baths of Titus, as was that of the two rooms 
that served for the sacristy. To me the contemplation of 
this floor was one of the best evidences of the imperial 
wealth and general luxury of Rome about eighteen centu- 
ries ago. Porphyry, serpentine, stellato were amongst the 
more ordinary parts, and giallo antico, verde antico, rosso 
antico were in profusion. 

My object was to see the place in which the chains are 
usually kept. The recess is about three feet deep in the 
thickness of the wall and carefully lined. It is over the 
vesting table opposite you as you enter, at the height of 


about six feet from the floor to the sill of the doors. The 
aperture is about four feet square in the centre of the 
wall ; it is surrounded by a line entablature of antique 
yellow marble with its mouldings neatly executed ; at the 
sides are two Ionic pilasters of Sicilian jasper, with the 
caps and volutes of marble richly gilt. Midway towards 
the angle on each side are corresponding marble panels in 
the wall, each nearly as large as the aperture. Each of 
these consists of three slabs of equal size ; that in the 
centre is serpentine stellato, with dark porphyry on either 
side. Readers might not all know that this serpentine is 
a stone of a varied green color, and is harder than mar- 
ble therefore it is called pietra dura, or hard stone. It 
has the same quality as cornelian, jasper, etc. When it 
has a number of small white stars it is called stellato. 
This is rare and much esteemed. These panels are sur- 
rounded by old mosaic. 

The ceiling is vaulted, but the arches which form this 
vault spring from the four sides, and as the room is not 
a square but an oblong parallelogram about twenty feet by 
fifteen, a panel, formed where the arches would meet is 
oblong too. Upon this there is a fine fresco of the liberation 
of Peter by the angel. Four other frescoes surround this 
on the vault ; at the head is Peter getting out of his boat 
to walk to Jesus whom lie sees upon the shore ; at the 
foot is the committal of Peter to prison by Herod ; on the 
right is the death of Annanias and Sapphira; and on the 
left, the healing of the cripple who asked alms at the 
Beautiful Grate of the temple. At the angles, niches rise in 
the vaults, in which appropriate devices are given ; three 
niches also rise at each side of the vault from the springing 
of the arch. In the centre one, over the recess for the 
preservation of the relics, is a fresco of the Blessed Virgin, 
and the others are occupied by saints. The remainder of 
the ceiling was decorated, in the year 1500, by ^ucchari, 
with sprigs and scrolls after the manner of the baths of 
Titus; these are also colored in fresco and are in an excel- 
lent state of preservation. 


The gates of the recess are perhaps some of the best 
executed bronzes in existence. Each gate consists of three 
panels, the middle one being the principal ; this is about 
eighteen inches square, surrounded by a fine border, with 
varied enrichings in delicate bronze. The subject on the 
one to your left as you examine is the imprisonment of 
Peter. Upon the portion which exhibits the main group 
there are at least seventeen human figures in various reliefs 
and different attitudes; the whole is wrought in a masterly 
and delicate style. Herod sits on his tribunal, with his 
emblems of office; the seat is in a fine niche of a large- 
building. From the windows of the upper floor a number 
of persons are seen looking at the crowd that proceeds from 
the tribunal to the gate of the prison; the Apostle is prom- 
inent in this crowd, with an air of dignified resignation, 
approaching the door into which the keeper is thrusting his 
ponderous key. In the background, in fine perspective, is 
seen the front of some public building with three large- 
niches, at various distances from the spectator, each con- 
taining some statue. The drapery is finely wrought, and 
on many of the figures portions of it are remarkably well 
gilt. Some of the persons appear to stand out fully sepa- 
rated from the panel, whilst little more than the outlines 
of others are discernible. On the oblong panel, over this, 
in the upper compartment, are two winged children, one at. 
each extremity, who hold the ends of a finely filled fes- 
toon of leaves and flowers; over the centre of the festoon 
is the scutcheon with the family arms of Rovera ; a sort 
of tree with its branches interwoven at the top and the 
tiara projecting. On the lower compartment, which corre- 
sponds in size and shape with the upper, are two trees r 
one at each extremity, the trunks near the ends, and the 
higher branches extending so as to meet nearly at the top 
of the centre ; under each tree is a winged child, and in 
the centre the inscription in raised letters : SIXTUS QUARTUS, 

On the corresponding gate to your right hand the upper 


compartment is similar, but that a cardinal's hat supplies 
the place of the tiara. The only difference in the lower 
compartment is the inscription, which is : JULIUS CARD. 
PCENITENTIARIUS, MCCCCLXXVii. The middle panel is divided 
into three parts. That on your right exhibits the interior 
of a prison ; the Apostle is lying on the floor, chained to 
a soldier on each side, both sleeping, one reclining, the 
other nearly erect and leaning against an angle. The angel 
is awakening the Apostle; aud in the background other 
sleepers are seen, soldiers and prisoners intermixed. In the 
centre is the passage outside this dungeon, which extends 
clown a good distance in excellent perspective, with a statue 
in a niche at its termination. The angel leads Peter from 
the dungeon, treading cautiously upon some armor that 
lies scattered over the floor. The Apostle seems doubting 
the reality of his delivery, yet is very careful to keep 
close to his conductor. The compartment on the left is the 
outer wall of the prison in which was the large iron gate, 
opening spontaneously to allow a passage. After passing 
through this the Apostle felt assured of his safety. 

The collections of leaves and other decorations that go 
around each gate comprising its three panels are wrought 
with a lightness and softness of appearance equal to wax. 
This is one of the chef d'oauvres of the brothers Pullajoli, 
who cast the fine gates of St. Peter's at the Vatican. 
Their remains are interred in this church at the Esquiline. 
Cardinal Julius Eovera was nephew to Pope Sixtus IV, 
and had this and other works executed for this church, 
of which he was the titular cardinal-priest. 


The respectable abbot of St. Peter's has kindly furnished 
me with the dissertation which lie promised, compiled by 
one of his order. It is a work now very scarce, of about 
fifty pages, quarto; a production which, however, must have 


occupied much time, and required great patience and pro- 
found research. The writer is one of those laborious, en- 
lightened, judicious and candid critics, whom the monas- 
teries have furnished in great abundance. He shows that 
it cannot be distinctly known at present whether the church, 
which originally stood upon the site now occupied by that 
in which the chains are kept, was, as many authors state, 
the first which the Apostle Peter dedicated after his arrival 
in Rome and that hence it was called, subsequently, and 
before the chains were placed there, St. Peter's Church. 
He shows that the chains were, from the earliest period, 
held in high estimation in Rome. He does not, however, 
bring such testimony as would make evidence for their 
authenticity, unless we admit one or more of the miracles 
which he relates as wrought by their means ; and one at 
least of these is sustained by testimony which to me 
appears fully sufficient, making direct and circumstantial evi- 
dence abundant for every person who has not determined to 
be incredulous. He avows that great difficulty and indis- 
tinctness is found in the testimony respecting the miraculous 
junction of the chains brought from Jerusalem and that 
with which the Apostle was bound in Rome ; and states 
that he can find no evidence beyond an unsustained and 
vague and imperfect tradition. But respecting the bringing 
of one of the chains from Jerusalem to Rome, the testi- 
mony amounts to a very great probability, though by no 
means sufficient to produce certainty. The reading of the 
work has, upon the whole, produced in my mind the con- 
clusion of the authenticity of the relic itself; though I am 
not satisfied of the sufficiency of the proof by which it is 
sought to sustain several particular statements that are mat- 
ters of pious belief. I look upon its preservation and ex- 
hibition to public respect to be not only rational and 
laudable, but exceedingly useful to religion. I write from 
my own experience when I inform you that by it the un- 
derstanding is enlightened, the heart is moved; the respect- 
ful recollection of the Apostle raises the soul to a still 



higher veneration for the commission with which he was 
invested, and of the faithful and painful discharge of whose 
duties this chain is an enduring witness. He who contem- 
plates the relic upon the altar and witnesses that iron 
which enclosed the martyr's neck, bows in silent adoration, 
more resigned to the worldly and transient afflictions which 
Providence allots to him. The history of the saints is the 
justification of that Providence, which by some afflictions 
subjects to a penance in this transient state and makes 
perfect by tribulation those who, enriched by grace, are 
found faithful and destined for glory. Who would not prefer 
to suffer upon earth, and to be glorious in heaven with 
Lazarus and with Peter, than to die like Dives or like 
Nero? The sumptuous repasts have long since ceased. The 
bright and delicate vesture has faded and decayed. The 
golden palace is a heap of ruins. Ages have flowed away, 
and eternity is yet, if I might use the expression, in the 
very infancy of its duration. Sorrow is changed into joy, 
and the instrument of pain, the badge of disgrace, has 
become the evidence of fidelity, as it was the occasion of 
merit, and continues to be the emblem of triumph and the 
incitement to virtue. We feel the full force of that passage 
of the Apostle in which he says, that " God chooses the 
foolish things of the world that He might confound the 
wise and the weak things of the world that He might con- 
found the strong and the ignoble things of the world, and 
the contemptible things of the world, did God choose, and 
the things that are not, that He might bring to nought 
the things that are, so that no flesh should glory in His 

In this church is another of Guercino's pieces, which at- 
tracted my notice, and for a time riveted my attention 
more even upon the moral than upon the production of the 
artist. The altar over which it is placed is near that of 
the chains; St. Augustine, the great Bishop of Hippo, is 
finely represented in the mood of most intense investigation. 
In the features you at once perceive the deep research and 


the anxiety of inquiry ; the eye would seem to penetrate 
beyond the sphere of his existence, and to scrutinize a 
world far, far beyond the scan of ordinary men. He is 
seated near the margin of the ocean ; and a beautiful child, 
at a small distance from the prelate, seems to be equally 
intent upon his own occupation. He has a large shell with 
which he appears determined to draw off the waters of the 
ocean and to pour them on the land. 

The saint relates that one day when endeavoring to form 
some idea of the nature of the infinite and eternal Creator, 
and led in his contemplations to try find some objects of 
comparison and to discern the mode of the Triune exist- 
ence of the Almighty; after many a fruitless effort, he 
saw that a child thus occupied was the best emblem of 
an aspiring mortal who would endeavor, with his limited 
faculties, to grasp infinity. It reminded me of the solemn 
and sublime address of the Lord Himself to the wise, the 
patient, and the contemplative Eastern : 

""When the morning stars sang together, and all the 
sons of God made joyful melody, who shut up the sea with 
doors when it broke forth as issuing out of the womb? 
When I made a cloud the garment thereof, and wrapped 
it in a mist as in swaddling bands, I set my bounds 
around it, and made it a bar and doors ; and I said : 
Hitherto thou shalt come, and shalt go no further, and 
here thou shalt break thy swelling waves." x 

i Job, c. 38, v. 7-11. 


I HAVE found the following article in a Protestant 
paper : 


" l Where was your religion before Luther ? ' is a stand- 
ing interrogatory, fabricated for the double purpose of sus- 
taining the pretensions of the Papacy to universal Catholi- 
cism, and to tantalize unlettered Protestants, by assuring 
them that their religion is of a very modern origin. The 
question, however, can be triumphantly answered. But, with- 
out attempting it at present, we shall merely adduce the 
Confession of Faith which was adopted by the much-perse- 
cuted Waldenses more than 400 years before Luther. 

" There are several confessions of the faith of these 
Christians of the valleys, some of them bearing a very 
early date, still extant. Sir Samuel Morland has fixed the 
date of the earliest in the year 1120; it reads as follows: 

"<1. We believe and firmly maintain all that is contained 
in the twelve articles of the symbol, commonly called the 
Apostles' Creed, and we regard as heretical whatever is 
inconsistent with the said twelve articles. 2. We believe 
that there is one God, Father, Son, and Spirit. 3. We 
acknowledge, for canonical Scriptures, the books of the I 
Holy Bible. (The books enumerated correspond exactly with ! 
our received canon ; the Apocrypha is excluded). 4. The : 
boeks above mentioned teach us that there is one God 
Almighty, unbounded in wisdom, and infinite in goodness, i 
and who in His goodness has made all things ; for He ; 
created Adam after His own image and likeness : but, '. 
through the enmity of the devil and his disobedience Adam 



fell, sin entered into the world, and we became transgressors 
in and by Adam. 5. That Christ had been promised to 
the fathers who received the law, to the end that knowing 
their sin by the law, and their unrighteousness and insuf- 
ficiency, they might desire the coming of Christ to make 
satisfaction for their sins and to accomplish the law by 
Himself. 6. That at the time appointed by the Father, 
Christ was born; a time when inquiry everywhere abounded, 
to make it manifest that it was not for the sake of any 
good in ourselves, for we were all sinners, but that He who 
is true might display His grace and mercy towards us. 
7. That Christ is our life, and truth, and peace, and right- 
eousness, our shepherd and our advocate, our sacrifice and 
peace, who died for the satisfaction of all who should 
believe, and rose again for our justification. 8. And we 
also believe, that there is no other mediator or advocate 
with God the Father but Jesus Christ; and as tc the 
Virgin Mary, she was holy, humble, and full of grace. 
And this we also believe concerning all other saints, namely, 
that they are waiting in heaven for the resurrection of their 
bodies at the day of judgment. 9. We also believe that, 
after this life there are but two places, one for those that 
are saved, the other for the damned, which two we call 
paradise and hell, wholly denying that imaginary purgatory 
of Antichrist, invented in opposition to the truth. 10. 
Moreover, we have ever regarded all the inventions of men 
in the affairs of religion as an unspeakable abomination 
before God ; such as the festival days and vigils of saints, 
and what is called holy water, the abstaining from flesh on 
certain days, and such like things ; but, above all, human 
inventions which produce distress, (probably meaning pen- 
ance), and are prejudicial to the liberty of mind. 12. We 
consider the sacraments as signs of holy things, or as the 
visible emblems of invisible blessings. We regard it as 
proper and even necessary, that believers use these symbols 
and forms when it can be done. Notwithstanding which, 
we maintain that believers may be saved without these 


signs when they have neither place nor opportunity of 
observing them. 13. We acknowledge no sacrament as of 
divine opportunity but baptism and the Lord's Supper. 
14. We honor the secular powers with subjection, obedience, 
promptitude, and payment.' 

"Several subsequent confessions of the "VValaenses are of 
similar tenor, recognizing all the fundamental doctrines of 
the Reformation ; but some parts of them are more pointedly 
directed against the errors of the Romish Church, such as 
the restricting of. the use of the Scriptures to the clergy, 
the infallibility of the Pope, &c. The AValdenses seem at 
all times to have laid particular stress upon the point of the 
Church of Rome being the Antichrist, the harlot of 
Babylon, the man of sin, the son of perdition, spoken of 
in the New Testament prophecies; and they insisted strenu- 
ously upon the necessity of separation from her communion, 
though they nevertheless inculcate obedience to their Popish 

Before entering into the particulars of this confession, it 
may be as well, supposing the truth of its date, to consider 
its claim to the term old. The present is the year 1837 
from the birth of our Saviour, that is to say, 1804 from 
the descent of the Holy Ghost and the establishment of the 
Christian Church. Now, supposing the correctness of the 
date fixed by Sir Samuel Morland, 1120, this confession is 
717 years old, and 1087 years after the establishment of 
the Church; that is, 370 years nearer to our day, than to 
that of the descent of the Holy Ghost. This is no great 
evidence of its Christian antiquity! 

Again, it is said to be more than 400 years before Luther. 
Now Martin Luther was born on the 10th of November, 
1483, that is 363 years after the supposed date of this con- 
fession, and I am indeed at a loss to discover how 363 is 
more than 400. 

But this is not all. The writer tells us that it is the 
confession of the Waldenses. Everybody knows that the 
Waldensca were so called because they were the disciples 


and the followers of Peter Waldo, who did not begin to 
form any disciples until after the year 1160, that is forty 
years after the period assigned for the date of this confession 
of faith, and thus the period of more than 400 years must 
be reduced to 323 at the most before the birth of Martin 
Luther ; and this gentleman was not more than thirty-four 
years of age when he began to assail the Church. I believe 
that it can be shown by good evidence that the document 
called " The Old Confession of Faith," an abstract of which 
is given above, and a more full copy of which I have lying 
on the table before me, was not formed until about twenty- 
five years after the year 11 GO, which would reduce the 
more than 400 years to less than 300 years before Luther. 

My object is not to diminish the value of this very old 
confession, by detracting from its antiquity, but to show the 
danger of loosely dealing in general assertions when persons 
are treating of facts. Another object is to show the danger 
of trusting to loose writers, when a person undertakes to 
give the copy or even the substance of such a document 
as a confession of faith. 

I shall now supply a few omissions, not denying that in 
the form above given there is a pretty accurate description 
of some of the articles, but totally denying that the formu- 
lary is either perfect, complete, adequate, or full, in 
representing the doctrines of the followers of Peter "Waldo, 
at any moment after they drew up anything like a confession 
of their belief. 

A considerable portion of the above formulary is taken 
from their book called " The Spiritual Calendar ;" more 
is taken substantially but not verbally from the description 
or history of Perrin. For instance, Article 3 is not taken 
exactly as a copy, but substantially and not very accurately; 
but Articles 12 and 14 are literal translations, the original 
of which we give as a literary curiosity : 

"12. Xos cresen que li sacrament son segnal de la cosa 
sancta o forma vesibla de gratia non vesibla, tenent esserbon 
que li fidel uzan alcunas vecs duquisti diet segnal, o forma 


vesibla, si la se po far. Ma impergo nos cresen et tenen 
que li predict fidel pon esser fait saifs non recebent li preeict 
segnal quand non han lo luoc, ni lo modo de poer uzar de 
li predict segnal." 

" 14. Nos deven donar, a la potesta secular, en subjection, 
en obedienga, en prompteza et en pagament." 

The omissions are very many. I shall state a portion : 

1. No notice is taken of their grand principle and most 
important charge against the Catholic Church, viz.: That 
she ceased to be the Church of Christ under Pope Sylvester, 
in the beginning of the 4th century, because she accepted 
temporal possessions from the Emperor Constantine, whereby, 
leaving apostolical simplicity and evangelical poverty, she 
became the conventicle of Satan. 

2. No notice is taken of their assertion, that they believed 
the Church was become the scarlet lady, because the Pope 
and the prelates in his communion were murderers, inasmuch 
as they approved of or at least permitted the waging 
of war. 

3. They pronounced the Church to be fallen, because she 
admitted distinctions between her members, styling some of 
them clergy of various orders, and others laity, thereby 
destroying their Christian equality. 

4. They condemned the Church because she allowed priests 
to possess their family property, contrary to the divine 
precept in Deuteronomy xviii. 

5. They taught that the Church was an abomination in 
the eye of heaven, because its clergy were permitted to 
receive prebends, or portions, or stipends, or pensions from 
foundations of real estate, attached to churches, contrary 
to the above and other laws. 

6. They complained of the un-Christian conduct of the 
Church in allowing persons who were guilty of the crime 
of possessing land, as property of their own, and not as 
that of the community, to receive the sacraments. 

7. They taught that the Church had grossly erred from 
the true religion of Jesus Christ, by having churches endowed 


with property, thereby straying from holy poverty and 
deluding the unfortunate persons who were guilty of the 
crime of such endowments. 

8. They believed that it was an attribute of Antichrist 
to leave a legacy to a church, and therefore that it was 
criminal to bequeath and criminal to receive such legacy. 

9. They did not consider that any pastor of souls was 
qualified for his place except he supported himself by the 
labors of his hands, as the Apostles did, and they considered 
the Church which supported the clergy from any other funds 
to be the scarlet lady. 

10. They taught, that there should be no distinction of 
offices in the Church, as it only favored vanity instead of 
promoting religion. 

11. Notwithstanding the 14th Article, they professed to 
believe that all princes and judges were in a state of 

12. They condemned as vanities of the devil all the 
academies or privileged schools or literary distinctions. 

I could swell the catalogue, but I have gone sufficiently 
far to show that the AValdenses would, if to-day they could 
reappear amongst us, condemn the disciples of Luther and 
of Calvin equally -as they would the Roman Catholic Church 
for several of those damnable and Antichristian errors ; 
against which they inveighed in their day, as loudly as 
those do who, without holding their principles, claim them 
as their predecessors, and who undertake to condemn us 
also to-day. 

I have given the above abstract of some omissions to 
the alleged copy of the confession of the AValdenses proper. 

But were I to follow up the peculiarities of the sects 
into which this offset from the Church divided in a few 
years after its separation from the Catholic body, I could 
indeed fill many sheets. 

The AValdenses proper were frequently designated Leon- 
ists, from the city of Lyons, where they had their origin, as 
they were also called Poor Men of Lyons, from their profes- 


.sion of evangelical poverty and declaiming against riches 
and the possession of private property. They had various 
other names from the places of their abode and remarkable 
leaders ; Good Men, from their sanctimonious appearance 
and contempt for luxury and wealth. 

They branched chiefly into the following sects : 

1. Sciscidents, who contended for the necessity of receiv- 
ing the Eucharist, and approached nearer to the Catholic 
doctrine respecting the nature of this sacrament. 

2. Ortlibens, who professed the doctrines correctly, but 
gave mystic interpretations by which they evaded their true 
sense. They, amongst other curious notions, believed that 
there was no Trinity previous to the incarnation, and that 
Jesus was the son of Joseph; that marriage was good, but 
its use was criminal. They looked for the judgment and 
the millennium upon the conversion of the Pope and the 

3. The Ordibarists, besides some of the above notions, 
believed that the Trinity was to be found in the members 
of their society. 

4. The Cathari, or Puritans, who, amongst a variety of 
other peculiar errors, considered this world to have been 
created by the devil, looked upon marriage to be criminal, 
as also the eating of meet, of eggs, or of cheese, under 
any circumstances. This division soon became subdivided 
into Albanians and Bagnolensians, whose errors I do not 

5. The Paterinians, who admitted Lucifer only as a sub- 
creator, and had strange notions of marriage. 

6. The Passagenians, who, amongst other peculiarities, 
considered the ritual portion of the Jewish law obligatory 
upon Christians. 

I could enumerate at least a dozen more, down to the 
Lollards; but I have far exceeded the limits I proposed 
to observe in this article. 

The Bohemian remnant of this sect presented its confes- 
sion of faith to Ferdinand, King of the Romans and of 


hernia, in 1538, but it is very greatly altered from 

at produced by the writer under review, in many very 
capital points, especially where in its thirteenth article it 
treats of the nature of the Eucharist. Luther praises it, 
because it expresses the doctrines of the real presence, as 
does also the formulary which they sent to Hungary to 
King Ladislaus. Melanchthon and Bucer eulogize it also. 
Calvin, however, was by no means content with their decla- 
rations, and even in 1560 his answer to two of their 
messengers was, that their confession of faith, as it stood, 
could not be received or subscribed with safety. 

This effort respecting the Waldenses is always full of 
trouble and perplexity to those who have essayed to obtain 
a semblance of antiquity by claiming these Poor Men of 
Lyons for their predecessors in the faith. This mode of 
stopping even at 1120 is unsatisfactory and useless. The 
best and wisest course is to go up to the days of the 
Apostles at once. Moore, in his " Travels of an Irish 
Gentleman in Search of a Religion," furnishes the entire 
evidence in chapter xxvii, and shows that Simon Magus 
held some of those tenets which, after having been occa- 
sionally forgotten and revived, are contained in that con- 
fession of faith which the Waldenses published about eleven 
centuries later. A few more of the articles are shown by 
the same author in chapter xxii and xxiii to have been 
known at even an earlier period, for some were professed 
at Capharnaum in the Saviour's presence, in this simple 
phrase : " How can this man give us his flesh to eat ? 
This saying is hard, and who can bear it?" 

Should any of them ask this writer, " Where was your 
religion before Luther ? " I have no doubt but by the aid 
of a little industry he could triumphantly answer, that it 
existed in scattered portions through various ages, from the 
days of the Apostles. As for my part, he may calculate 
upon my poor assistance, should he need it. 



THIS country is a portion of that large tract formerly 
known by the name of Scandinavia, and was, about the 
close of the seventh century, given its modern appellation. 1 

Hume, who is certainly one of the worst authorities we 
know, where religion is even incidentally concerned, states 
that "the Emperor Charlemagne, though naturally generous 
and humane, had been induced by bigotry to exercise great 
severities upon the pagan Saxons in Germany, whom he 
had subdued ; and, besides often ravaging their country 
with fire and sword, he had, in cold blood, decimated all 
the inhabitants for their revolts, and had obliged them, by 
the most rigorous edicts, to make a seeming compliance with 
the Christian doctrines." 

My object, at present, is not to examine critically How 
many falsehoods are contained in the paragraph which I 
have quoted, but I distinctly assert that it was neither 
religion nor bigotry that caused this monarch to inflict 
severites upon the pagan Saxons, but their frequent rebel- 
lions, or, as Hume calls it, "revolts," and the perpetual 
guilt of persecution and plunder of Christians in their 
vicinity, who were his subjects, and whom he was bound 
by every law, human and divine, to protect. Mr. Hume 
frequently lays before his readers facts without stating their 
true cause, and many of his readers take the causes upon 
his authority as they find the facts generally admitted and 
incontrovertible. Thus he is guilty of deceit, not exactly by 
forging facts, but by misstating their causes and their 

> See Horn's "Scandinavian Literature." This work was published in Chicago, 1884. 



I have read the edicts of Charlemagne, and must say, 
that I cannot discover one which obliges the pagan Saxons 
to a seeming or a real compliance with the Christian doc- 
trine ; and I am under the impression that such edicts, 
rigorous or otherwise, cannot be in existence, because we 
do find others in existence with which they would be 
incompatible. The fact is, many other critics whose sagacity 
was equal to Hume's, whose information was at least 
equally accurate, and who, though they differed in religion 
as much from Charlemagne as did Mr. Hume, had much 
less virulent bigotry than he had. Bigotry is not confined 
to one side of a question. Those men give the true cause 
for the severity, perhaps cruelty, of the monarch : " He 
could place no dependence upon their promises nor their 
oaths ; and the moment his forces were withdrawn, after 
the conclusion of a treaty to observe which they had sworn, 
they were again in arms." How would General Jackson 
treat such uersons ? The cases are parallel. Is Jackson a 
bigot ? * 

Those Saxons retired into Jutland and the isles at the 
mouth of the Baltic, and, to use the words of Hume, 
" meeting there with a people of similar manners, they 
were readily received amongst them ; and they soon stim- 
ulated the natives to concur in enterprises which both 
promised revenge upon the haughty conqueror" who 
informed Hume that Charlemagne was haughty? "and 
afforded subsistence to those numerous inhabitants with 
which the northern countries were now overburdened." 

This was the origin of the Danish invasions. Their 
first descent upon England was in the year 787. In 794, 
they made another incursion upon Northumberland. Poor, 
innocent, harmless beings ! "Would it not be the excess of 
bigotry to punish them because they were pagans, particu- 
larly as the executioners of vengeance must necessarily be 
Roman Catholics? In 832, they began more formidable 

i An allusion to President Jackson's treatment of the American aborigines. The 
words are quoted from one of his despatches . 


and systematic invasions ; and, by Mr. Hume's reasoning, 
to oppose their burning the country, their rapine, their 
abuse of women, their enslaving or massacre of men, particu- 
larly of nuns or monks, would be unpardonable bigotry. 
Yet Hume calls them pirates ! 

It was no easy matter to convert this people ; but witn 
God's assistance, their conversion was effected not by 
rigorous edicts, but by mild and apostolic preaching. 

In the year 822, St. Adelard, Abbot of Old Corbie, and 
cousin-german of Charlemagne, founded the abbey of New 
Corbie, otherwise Corwey, upon the Weser, about nine 
miles from the city of Paderborn, and established very 
regular discipline therein. Amongst the monks who came 
hither from Old Corbie in France was one named Anscha- 
rius, called by the Germans Sharies, and by the French 
Ansgar. He was sent with a number of missionaries into 
Jutland and other parts of Scandinavia, and their preaching 
was eminently successful. They were favored by Harald, 
a prince of Denmark, who had been baptized in the court 
of Louis Debonnaire. In 832, Anscharius was made Arch- 
bishop of Hamburg and Legate Apostolic by Pope Gregory 
IV. In 845, the Normans and Danes, in an irruption, 
burned the city of Hamburg, and in 849, the See of 
Bremen becoming vacant, the Pope united that of Hamburg 
thereto, and made St. Anscharius archbishop of the two. 
The more northern regions having relapsed into idolatry, 
the saint made new efforts for their conversion, which were 
more permanently successful. He was greatly aided by the 
exertions of Ebbo, Archbishop of Rheims. The first bishop 
of Bremen was St. Wilchad, an Englishman, a native of 
Northumberland, who was the first Christian missionary that 
passed the Elbe. He died in 789 or 790. 

St. Rembert, a native of Flanders, in the vicinity of 
Bruges, succeeded St. Anscharius in the See of Bremen, 
in the year 865. He made great progress in spreading 
the faith in Denmark, and likewise began the conversion 
of the Sclavi or Vandals and of the Brandenburghers. He 
died on the llth of June, 888. 


King Eric I was baptized in 826. One of his successors, 
Swein or Sweno II apostatized, but his successor Knut or 
Canute II, surnamcd the Great, who also succeeded Edmond 
Ironside on the throne of England in 1017, became a 
Catholic. In his reign many of his followers embraced 
Christianity in England, and many of the English eccle- 
siastics labored upon the Danish mission. Amongst these 
latter was St. William, who had been chaplain to Canute, 
and was afterwards Bishop of Roschild, in the isle of 
Zealand. Upon the death of Canute, he was succeeded in 
his Danish dominions by his son Swein, whom the bishop 
had more than once to reprove for his choler and injustice, 
but who, entering into himself, was subsequently not only 
religious, but greatly useful in the propagation of the faith. 
St. AVilliam and he both died and were buried in Eoschild, 
in the year 1067. 

About two centuries later, St. Hyacinth, a member of the 
illustrious house of the counts of Oldrovens, one of the 
most noble in Silesia, son of Count Konski, and born in 
the castle of Saxony, in 1185, and who was also one of 
the first members of the Dominican Order, having received 
the habit from St. Dominic himself in Rome, in the month 
of March, 1218, was a zealous apostle of this nation. The 
faith flourished therein, from its first planting and increase, 
as has been mentioned, until the anarchy and divisions of 
the sixteenth century. 

In the year 1518, Christian II was King of Denmark; 
he was a tyrannical, ambitious, unprincipled monarch, and 
particularly aimed at getting possession of the crown of 
Sweden. Stenon, the Swedish king, suspected the Arch- 
bishop of Upsal and other prelates of his dominions of 
being favorable to the views of Christian, who in the next 
year invaded Sweden and got possession of the throne. His 
cruelties were excessive. This man added hypocrisy and 
sacrilege to his murders and usurpations. Driven from 
Stockholm, the Danish king no longer concealed his senti- 
ments, but made open profession of his attachment to the 


Lutheran cause. He was rejected by Denmark, his uncle 
Frederic, the Duke of Holstein, having been raised to the 
throne. Christian took refuge in Holland, whence he 
returned with an army to regain the throne, in 1531 ; but 
being defeated and taken, he was cast into prison, where he 
died in the year 1559. Stenon having died in 1520, of a 
wound received in battle, Gustavus, the son of Eric Vasa, 
was chosen king of Sweden. 

In Denmark, the new monarch, Frederic, introduced 
Lutheranism, and proscribed and persecuted the Catholics. 
He died in 1535, and was succeeded by his son, Chris- 
tian III, a good and moderate king, with the exception of 
his following the example of his father in the attempts to 
eradicate the Catholic religion by violence. Having founded 
a college at Copenhagen, and greatly encouraged learning, 
he died in 1559, and was succeeded by Frederic II. Very 
few of the inhabitants preserved their faith, and the number 
of clergymen were almost brought to nothing; the stragglers 
who lay hid in the country could seldom be discovered. 

Somewhat more than a century later, an eminent Danish 
gentleman named Nicholas Stenon, who was born in Copen- 
hagen in the year 1638, was famous in Italy for his 
knowledge, particularly in medicine and anatomy. He resided 
at the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany in the year 
1670. His parents had been Lutherans, and he was himself 
educated in that sect, and imbibed the strongest prejudices 
against Catholics ; but finding by his intercourse with them 
and his closer reading and observation, that his notions of 
their belief and practice were altogether erroneous, his pre- 
judices yielded to his judgment, and he some time after- 
wards became a Roman Catholic. Christian V, successor 
of Frederic III, was then King of Denmark, and being 
zealous for the improvement of the college of Copenhagen, 
lie insisted upon the return thither of Mr. Stenon, to fill 
the chair of anatomy, promising that he should be undis- 
turbed on the score of religion. Mr. Stenon went thither, 
but soon found that public prejudice was more powerful 


than the protection of a monarch. He returned into Italy, 
and, in the year 1677, he was consecrated Bishop of Titi- 
opolis, in partibus, and appointed by Innocent XI Vicar 
Apostolic of the northwest of Europe. His principal resi- 
dence was at Hamburg. He died at Schwerin, in Mecklen- 
burg, on the 24th of November, 1686, after having effected 
much good. He paid as much attention as his means 
would admit or their wants acquired to the few Catholics 
that were still found in his native country, and it is only 
in the same way they have been as yet looked after, 
though their numbers are now greatly increased and the 
profession of their religion is in a large degree sanctioned. 
The total population of Denmark is stated at present at 
1,565,000 of whom the Catholics are upwards of 60,000, 
perhaps 65,000. But as the religion is now and has been 
of late making considerable progress, the number at present 
is much greater than formerly. 


Tins large tract of country was but little known, and 
we believe thinly inhabited, at the commencement of the 
Christian era. All to the north of Germany was, we may 
say, undiscovered, certainly unexplored. It was not until 
the arms of Charlemagne had struck terror into the northern 
barbarians, that it was safe to go amongst them. 

In my account of Denmark, I mentioned the elevation of 
St. Anscharius to the See of Bremen and to legatine authority. 
About the year 830 the King of Sweden sent to Louis 
Debonnaire for missionaries to preach Christianity amongst 
his subjects. St. Anscharius, then a monk at New Corbie, 
and Vitmar, another of the same house, were selected for that 
purpose, and had books and ornaments to present from the 
emperor to the king. Anscharius had been previously in 
Denmark, where he had planted the faith. On their voy- 
age they were plundered by pirates, and arrived quite 


destitute at Biorc, then the capital of Sweden, and the 
principal harbor and royal residence. Upsal was, at that- 
time, a considerable city; but its site was much nearer 
to where Stockholm now is than to where the present city 
of Upsal is built. Biorc is described as being situated 
upon an island two days' sail from Upsal ; and we sup- 
pose it must be that island which is now called "Waxholm,, 
at the mouth .of Lake Melar. Being received kindly by 
the king, they preached with great success, and found a 
considerable number of Christian slaves, who were delighted 
at the opportunity of receiving the sacraments, of which 
they had long been deprived. Herigar', governor of the 
capital, an intimate friend of the monarch, was converted 
at an early period, and greatly aided their exertions. 

Anscharius, when raised to the See of Bremen, about the 
year 850, sent missionaries to revive the spirit which had r 
during some years, slumbered in Sweden ; and then, by 
his own presence, roused it to energy and activity. The 
good work was continued by his successor, St. Rembert. 

Again, in or about the year 925, Hunni, Archbishop of 
Bremen, arriving at Birca, which we suppose to be the 
same as Biorc, found but one priest remaining in Sweden; 
during the short and bloody reigns of the monarchs in the 
preceding sixty years, religion had been nearly forgotten. 
He died during his apostolic labors in that country, and 
was succeeded in the archbishopric of Bremen by St- 
Adaldagus, who filled that see during fifty-four years, and 
greatly promoted the conversion of the Swedes, and estab- 
lished some sees amongst them. Odincar, the elder, a 
religious Dane, and his nephew, of the same name, Bishop 
of Ripa, in Jutland, and one of the royal race of Denmark, 
who was consecrated by Libentius, Archbishop of Bremen, 
about the year 1000, labored much also in the conversion of 

Nearly sixty years before the arrival of Bishop Odincar, 
King Olas Scobcong had requested the British King Edred 
to procure some missionaries for Sweden. Sigefride, an 


eminent priest of York, in England, undertook the task ; 
and on the 21st of June, 950, he arrived at Wexio, in 
the territory of Smaland, in Gothland. Twelve of the prin- 
cipal inhabitants of this district were his first converts. St. 
Sigefride had received episcopal consecration before his arrival 
in Sweden and ample missionary powers, by virtue of which 
he was enabled to erect new sees and to fill them. He 
erected the Sees of Lingkopping in West Gothland and Skara 
in East Gothland. He then appointed his nephew Uduman 
to take charge of his See of Wexio, and went farther north. 
He baptized King Olas and his household and his army, 
established the See of Strengues, and restored that of Upsal, 
which had been founded by St. Anscharius. During his 
absence from Wexio, the idolaters plundered the ehurch, and 
murdered Uduman and his two brothers, Sunaman a deacon, 
and Wiamar a sub-deacon. St. Sigefride having returned to 
Wexio, prevailed on the king to spare the lives of the 
murderers, and refused to accept a fine which was levied 
upon them ; and having re-established his church he died, 
and was buried in his cathedral in the year 1002. 

The faith was propagated in another part of Sweden, soon 
after, by St. Eskill, an Englishman, who was consecrated 
Bishop of Xordhans Kogh, and martyred by the pagans at 
Strengis. Adelbert, Archbishop of Bremen, and Sweyn II, 
King of Denmark, did much in this century to extend the 
reign of truth in Sweden. 

In the year 1148, St. Henry, an Englishman, who 
had labored strenuously on the Swedish and other northern 
missions, together with his countryman, Cardinal Nicholas 
Breakspear, apostolic legate, and afterwards Pope Adrian 
IV, did much to confirm and to establish the faith. 

Upsal was raised to the dignity of an archbishopric 
during the incumbency of Stephen, its sixth bishop and 
first archbishop; and in 1160, Pope Alexander III created 
the archbishop of that see metropolitan and primate of the 
Swedish Church. We may, at this period, consider Sweden 
as fully converted. 


In the year 1517 the persons commissioned by the Pope 
to preach up indulgences for the contribution towards build- 
ing the Church of St. Peter's in Koine were guilty of 
great excesses and extortions in Sweden. Angus Arcem- 
boldi, Legate of the North, was the chief commissioner there, 
and had the sanction of Stenon, administrator, claiming to 
be King of Sweden. In an interview with that ruler, the 
legate attempted to reconcile him to Gustavus Troil, Arch- 
bishop of Upsal; but Stenon gave him sufficient reasons 
to justify his distrust in Gustavus, and showed the proba- 
bility of the prelate's holding an improper correspondence 
with Christian II of Denmark, well known by the appella- 
tion of the Nero of the North, and who wished to con- 
firm his authority in Sweden. The Danish king having 
manifested his hostility, Stenon had the Primate of Upsal 
tried by the senate, and being convicted, he was deprived 
of his revenues and confined in a monastery. The prelate 
had privately made an appeal to Rome, in which he stated 
his case to be one of great hardship. Arccmboldi was 
instructed to demand his release and restitution. Stenon 
and the senate refused; upon which Leo X placed Sweden 
under an interdict, and excommunicated Stenon and the 
senate. The Archbishop of Lunden, in Holstein, and the 
Bishop of OJcnsea were charged with the execution ; and 
Christian of Denmark, who hypocritically appeared to be 
still a Catholic, though in truth a Lutheran, was requested 
to aid them. Stenon now seized upon the money which 
had been collected for Arcemboldi, and a new excommu- 
nication followed ; and Christian, who longed for the oppor- 
tunity, entered Sweden at the head of his army. Stenon 
died lighting at the head of his troops. Christian got pos- 
session of the capital. The archbishop was released and 
reinstated in his revenues. The bloody Christian treacher- 
ously seized upon and put to death in one day, at an 
entertainment where all appeared to be peace and amity, 
the principal lords of Sweden. He then, at the instigation 
of the Primate of Upsal, required the two prelate commis- 


sioncrs to investigate the proceedings under which the pri- 
mate had been originally punished; but, as their proceedings 
were too slow, he of his own authority condemned and 
executed ninety-six senators who survived, and amongst whom 
. were the Bishops of Stremgncn and Skara. The prior of St. 
John of Jerusalem, who had manifested most patriotism, 
was fastened to a St. Andrew's Cross, embowelled, and his 
heart torn out. The bodies were then ranged in a line, 
and all the heads raised on spears; after which the soldiers 
were let loose upon the populace. Next day an amnesty 
was published, but violated as soon as the people made 
their appearance. Christian then invited to a conference six 
bishops who had refused to assist at his Swedish corona- 
tion ; and they, imagining that peace was at length to be 
given, met him they were seized upon and burned. This 
caused so general an insurrection that the tyrant fled. Hav- 
ing left Sweden, he made open profession of Lutheranism. 

Olaus Petri had already introduced the novel doctrines 
amongst the Swedes. Gustavus, the Son of Eric Vasa, 
Duke of Gripsholm, had, after a variety of difficulties and 
extraordinary escapes, found, amongst the hardy miners of 
Dalecarlia, a patriotic spirit. He began the liberation of 
his country with his little band ; his standard soon floated 
victorious and overshadowed multiplied thousands. Gustavus 
Ericson, or Vasa, was chosen king. He wanted money: 
Olaus informed him that, according to the Lutheran prin- 
ciples, it was lawful to take away what was possessed by 
the monasteries, and to reduce the income of the parish 
churches. Gustavus, who had, during his captivity in Den- 
mark, been predisposed to this new system, began to pave 
the way for carrying it into execution, but met considerable 
opposition from the fe\v bishops that still remained in 
Sweden ; thenceforward, Gustavus encouraged the Lutheran 

Pope Adrian YI sent, as his legate to Gustavus, John 
Magni, an eminent and highly informed Swedish ecclesiastic. 
The king received him kindly, and prevailed upon him to 


accept the primacy which was now vacant, by the degra- 
dation and banishment of the late unprincipled incumbent. 
The new primate soon perceived the true object at which 
the king aimed, for it had been proposed to him to con- 
voke a synod and to establish the Lutheran doctrine. The 
primate was not a man to betray his charge, but he saw 
he could not avert the storm ; he, therefore, returned to 

In the year 1527 the king assembled the senate at 
Upsal, and subsequently at Arosen ; at which meeting he 
declared, that unless they abolished the religion and the 
supremacy of the Roman See, he would abdicate : and that 
the revenues of the State demanded the confiscation of the 
Churchlands and property. Though a considerable portion 
of the legislature was composed of Roman Catholics, they 
were awed into acquiescence to his demands. He left what 
he called liberty of conscience. The spirit of Dalecarlia 
was still unbroken ; and this brave people, being all Roman 
Catholics, they took up arms to oppose the invasion of 
their rights of conscience and the plunder of the property 
consecrated to the support of their pastors, by him whom 
they had borne on their shoulders to victory and to a 
throne. Gustavus, after having subdued them, treated the 
Dalecarlians in the most severe and cruel manner, because 
they did not choose to change their religion. 

In 1542 the king procured from the general assembly 
the nomination of his son Eric as his successor, and the 
regulation that the crown should be hereditary; he also 
caused them to swear to the maintenance of Lutheranism, 
without tolerating any other religion. He had previously 
ran through the provinces at the head of a large body 
of cavalry, extirpating Catholicity. 

The . Lutheranism which he established has, in its exter- 
nal appearance and discipline, more affinity to the Catholic 
religion than any other sort of the new system. There are 
archbishops, bishops, priests, and deacons ; their liturgy very 
much resembles that of Rome, and they have confession 


and absolution and penance, but the confession is not 
always private. 

Eric XIV succeeded, upon the death of his father, Gus- 
tavus, in 1560, but his conduct was that of a madman. 
He was deposed in 1568 for a variety of cruelties, and 
his attempt at raising Catherine, one of his concubines, who 
had been a fruit-girl in Stockholm, to the dignity of queen. 

His brother, John III, was chosen to succeed him. He 
was married to Catherine, of the Jaggelon family, daughter 
to Sigismund, King of Poland. This queen was a Roman 
Catholic, and her husband having made a profession of 
that faith, in presence of Father Posse vin, a Jesuit, was 
desirous of having his dominions reconciled to the Holy 
See. For this purpose he sent Pontus de la Gardie to 
Home with proposals of reunion; but the Swedish nobility 
gave their decided opposition to the measure, though many 
of the clergy had manifested their anxiety to co-operate 
with the king. The project was unsuccessful, but a num- 
ber of priests gained admittance into Sweden, and were 
able to console and to administer to the scattered members 
of the Church who were in the country. The queen died, 
leaving only one son, Sigismund, who adhered to the 
religion of his parents, and obtained the crown of Poland; 
though he lost that of Sweden, on account of his religion, 
through the intrigues of his uncle, Charles IV, son of 
Gustavus, who procured the deposition of Sigismund, and 
his own appointment, under the title of Charles IX. He 
is mentioned in high terms of commendation by some of 
the early Protestant writers, for having, through religious 
zeal, supplanted his nephew and usurped his throne. 

Christina succeeded her father, the renowned Gustavus 
Adolphus, the head of the Protestant League, upon his death 
in 1654, in the twenty-eighth year of her age. This extra- 
ordinary woman resigned her throne, and abjured the religion 
she had previously professed, embracing the doctrines of the 
Catholic Church. Hitherto, the renowned and learned 
daughter of the great Gustavus had been the object of 


admiration and of eulogy, the pride of the north. But now, 
the most scrutinizing criticism, pried into all her conduct, 
and doubts as to whether she were really a great woman 
began to be entertained; and it was stated, aye, seriously 
stated, that it was not because she believed in the truth 
of those doctrines, to profess which she renounced a throne, 
that she changed her religion, but because " the austere 
manners and narrow acquisitions of the Swedish clergy 
were not likely to have attached her to their opinions ; and 
they certainly were little able to vie in her estimation with 
the splendid and courtly dignitaries of the Romish Church." 
But the historiographer, from whom we have made the 
quotation, has, in his zeal against the Romish religion, 
overlooked the fact, that the queen of Sweden, at the time 
of her conversion, had not an opportunity of seeing and 
conversing with those splendid and courtly dignitaries whom 
she subsequently met in the polished and literary circles 
of the South ; for in Sweden there were then but a few 
obscure and indigent Catholic clergymen, who had renounced 
the pomp of the world and exposed themselves to affliction, 
that they might comfort a persecuted flock. It is true, the 
attainments of the Swedish Lutheran clergy were never 

Christina traveled into France, Italy, and Germany, 
spending much of her time in Rome. Upon the death of 
Charles Gustavus X, the cousin of Christina, to whom she 
had resigned the throne, her finances being embarrassed, she 
in 1660 went into Sweden to obtain payments, but was very 
badly received by her former subjects. They refused her 
incomes, pulled down her chapel, and some Italian clergymen 
who accompanied her were insulted and exposed to imminent 
danger. The States required a repetition of her act of 
renunciation, before they would suffer her to receive her 
revenue; and she then bade a final adieu to her country, 
and died in Rome in 1689. 

Charles XI, who succeeded his father, Charles X, was one 
of the most stern, arbitrary, and despotic monarchs. He 


published an edict forbidding the exercise of any religion 
but that of Luther, in Sweden, about the year 1690. This 
caused great dissatisfaction, for at that period numbers of 
other sectaries were in several parts of his kingdom who 
disliked the Lutheran mode nearly as much as they did 
the Catholic religion. 

The events of the last century in this country have 
nothing to do with the religious view which it is my 
object to give. In the year 1810 the then reigning mon- 
arch was forced to a resignation, and Bernadotte, who rose 
from the lowest ranks of the army to be a general officer 
and marshal in the revolutionary service of France, upon 
obtaining the throne changed his name and religion. He 
was crowned by the name of Charles John, and having 
abjured the Roman Catholic faith, he professed Lutheranism. 

The present Swedish dominions contain nearly three mil- 
lions of inhabitants, of which the principal portion are 
Lutherans. From the documents we have seen, we believe 
they may be estimated as follows : 

Lutherans 2,250,000 

Other Protestants 450,000 

Eoman Catholics 80,000 

Add to these the inhabitants of Lapland, who are mostly 

Pagans, estimated at 60,000 

Total population '. 2,840,000 


NORWAY was part of Scandinavia. About seventy years 
before the Christian era, Odin or "VVodan, a Scythian chieftain 
from the borders of the Palus Moeotis, came into Scandinavia 
and subdued the aborigines. His wife was Frigga or Freia, 
and the most valiant of his sons was Thor. Subsequently 
they were considered as the three principal deities of the 


North ; and as the Orkneys, the Shetland and Faroe Islands, 
together with Iceland and part of Scotland, came under their 
dominion, their mythology diffused . itself through those 
regions. The Danes, who had possession of England, had, 
before their conversion to Christianity, the same doctrines 
.and deities as the Norwegians. The Romans had introduced 
their mythology too into Britain, and the Saxons had a 
blending of the observances of the North and South, before 
their conversion. 

The days of the week derived their appellations from 
the deities. Sunday was sacred to Apollo or the sun, 
Monday to Diana or the moon, Tuesday to Mars, amongst 
the Romans, but the Northerns took the liberty of changing 
the name to suit the appellation of that of their own 
favorite, Tsycne, one of the sons of "Wodan ; Mercury was 
dispossessed of his day, in order to leave room for Odin 
or Wodan, who thus got Wednesday; Jove was obliged to 
give up his day to the superior claims of Thor ; and as 
the next day was sacred to Venus, this Grecian lady was 
forced to yield to the superior claims of Freia, the beauty 
of the North; but Saturn was permitted to retain quiet 
possession of his own day. 

I have been led to this little digression from noticing 
the state of Norwegian mythology in the early days of 
Christianity. From what I have said, my readers must see 
that the faith was considerably spread in the kingdoms of 
Denmark and Sweden, in the ninth century. Persecution in 
one place has usually been the cause of its establishment 
in other places, especially in the first ages. Such was the 
case in Scandinavia. 

About the year 915, Gourm, King of Denmark, was 
violent and inexorable in the persecution of the Christians 
in his dominions ; his object was to extirpate the professors 
of the religion of our Lord. There were many martyrs, but 
many also fled, and carried with them the doctrines of 
salvation. Some of the fugitives going into Norway, first 
brought the light of faith into those darkened regions, and 


warmed the hearts of a benumbed people into gratitude to 

The missionaries sent by St. Adaldagus in this age also 
aided in the great work, in that part of Norway which 
borders upon Sweden, where they were more occupied. 

Harald, King of Denmark, procured many missionaries 
for the North, a few of whom penetrated into Norway. 
After the martyrdom, his sovereign, who had raised the 
infidels in rebellion, was subdued by Eric in Sweden: and 
one of the consequences of an application to Eric by Poppo, 
Bishop of Sleswick, was the facility and encouragement 
afforded for following up the northern missions. 

The state of Norway had been hitherto unsettled ; but 
about the year 1020 the independence and integrity of the 
kingdom were established. Olaus or Olave, son of Harald 
Granscius, Prince of Westfold, in Norway, by his wife 
Asta, daughter of Gulbrand Kuta, the Governor of Gul- 
brand's Dale or Valley, sailed for England in the year 
1013. Norway was then, and had been for some time, 
annoyed and partitioned by Sweno, King of Denmark, Olave 
Scot Konung, son of Eric, King of Sweden, and Eric, son 
of Hacon, Earl of Norway. At the time of leaving his 
country, Olave was a Christian, and formed the design of 
having Norway freed from the oppression of foreigners and 
the darkness of paganism. He assisted King Ethelred 
against the Danes, after the death of Sweno, and thus 
emancipated his countrymen from their oppression. He next 
waged war against Olaus Scot Konung, who had succeeded 
his father upon the throne of Sweden ; and having obtained 
exemption of the Norwegian territory from the future 
aggressions and incursions of Sweden, he married the 
daughter of the Swedish monarch, who was also a Chris- 
tian, and by a domestic regulation with the earl, he became 
monarch of Norway. 

Previous to his leaving England he procured a number 
of zealous missionaries, whom he brought with him one 
of them, Grimkele, was consecrated Bishop of Drontheim. 


The laws of Norway were revised and amended, and civ- 
ilization began to spread itself, together with Christianity, 
and both were also communicated to Iceland and the islands. 

Olave is honored as a saint in the Church ; his acts 
were those of a wise potentate and a man of pure religion. 
He used his utmost exertions to extirpate idolatry, but 
this so exasperated the adherents to paganism that they 
took up arms, and, being assisted by Canute of Denmark, 
they overcame him. Olaus took refuge with his father-in- 
law, who aided him with troops to recover his throne, but 
he was slain at Stickstadt, north of Drontheim, on the 29th 
of July, 1028. 

After some commotions, Hackin, whom Canute made Vice- 
roy of Norway, being drowned, and Sweno, the son of 
Canute, and viceroy after his cousin Hackin, having fled 
from Norway, Harald, \ the brother of St. Olaus, persecuted 
the Christians and encouraged the pagans. Many suffered 
martyrdom under him ; Adelbert, Archbishop of Bremen, 
finally prevailed on him to desist. But in 1035 Magnus, 
the son of Olave, being of age, was called out of Russia, 
where he had taken refuge, and placed upon the Norwegian 
throne. He rebuilt the Cathedral ef Drontheim in such a 
style of magnificence as to be considered the pride of the 
North ; it was dedicated under the invocation of his father, 
whose shrine was richly ornamented. This prince did much 
for the propagation of the faith. 

Nicholas Breakspear, who was afterwards Pope Adrian 
IV, was, together with some others of his countrymen, 
employed upon the northern missions, particularly in Nor- 
way, of which he is often called the apostle, about the 
year 1140. Pope Eugenius III, in approbation of his zeal 
and success, created him Cardinal and Bishop of Alba; 
and in the next century St. Hyacinth, one of the first 
Dominican friars, preached in that country with great fruit, 
about a century after it had been the theatre of Cardinal 
Breakspear's exertions. 

I am not aware of any particular facts that accompanied 
the change of religion in Norway, in the sixteenth century, 


which would require special notice in such a summary as 
I give. Placed between Sweden, Denmark, and Scotland, 
where what was called " reformation " was carried on in a 
style of masterly severity, persecuting all who would not 
conform to the new tenets, and sometimes bowed under the 
yoke of Denmark, sometimes under that of Sweden, the 
Church of Norway was destroyed towards the middle of 
that century, and Lutheranism was upheld and protected. 
Some Catholics still were to be found in Norway, and some 
other descriptions of Protestants, but Lutheranism was and 
is the dominant sect. 


Lutherans 700,000 

Other Protestants 200,000 

Roman Catholics 30,000 

Pagans 30,000 


Iceland was converted to the Catholic faith, principally 
in the thirteenth century, and the professors of that faith 
were persecuted into a conformity with the Norwegian and 
Danish changes, and left without Homan Catholic clergymen, 
in the commencement of the seventeenth century. 

The Faroe Islands were converted earlier to the faith, 
and retained it longer than Iceland ; we scarcely know how 
to characterize the religion of either at present. In both 
portions the number of Catholics is inconsiderable, not 
exceeding 5,000 ; the other sects calling themselves Chris- 
tians, about 20,000, and pagans upwards of 20,000. Very 
little exertion is at present made to communicato instruc- 
tion to these people. 


THIS vast country contains the principal portion of the 
ancient Sarmatia, Scythia, and part of what was Scandinavia. 
The Tartars and Muscovites, in later times, were the chief 
occupants of these extensive territories ; and, in the inter- 


mediate . period, after the emigrations of the Goths and 
Vandals, the Sclavi, the Russi, the Hunni, the Turci, and 
various other tribes, extended themselves more or less 
through these undefined regions. Russia extends through 
Europe and Asia, and comprises a portion of America. I 
shall here confine myself to a very brief and general state- 
ment of the establishment of Christianity and its decay in 
European Russia. 

In the seventh and eighth centuries, some knowledge of 
the Christian religion was obtained by the barbarous tribes 
above mentioned, from slaves whom they had taken from 
the civilized nations in some of their incursions, and from 
fugitives and adventurers from those nations. But very- 
little progress was thus made; some persons, brought to a 
knowledge of the great mysteries of redemption, were bap- 
tized, principally by laymen. 

In the beginning of the ninth century, Michael the 
Stammerer and his successor, Theophilus, iconoclasts and 
emperors of the East, persecuted the Catholics, especially 
the holy Patriarchs of Constantinople, Saints Nicephorus " and 
Methodius. Theodora, the widow of Theophilus, admin- 
istered during the minority of her son Michael III, whom 
she educated in the Roman Catholic faith. About the year 
848, the Chazari, who were a tribe of Turci that had 
migrated from the banks of the Volga, the ancient Dra, 
sent a solemn embassy to the regent and her son, with a 
request to have some Christian missionaries procured for 
them. They were at that time governed by Chagans, or 
Chams r who had regal authority, and were but one of seven 
or eight tribes similarly circumstanced. 

Theodora applied to St. Ignatius, Patriarch of Constan- 
tinople, who sent a number of clergymen under Cyril, a 
very learned priest, who was surnamed the Philosopher. 
Cyril's original name was Constantino. He was a native 
of Thcssalonica, noted for his zeal and piety equally as for 
his learning. Having instructed the nation, baptized the 
Cham, and organized churches, he returned to Constantinople. 


Accompanied by his brother, St. Methodius, St. Cyril 
afterwards preached the faith in several parts of what is 
now Turkey, and in part of the present Austrian domin- 
ions ; but from his first mission under the authority of St. 
Ignatius, who held communion with and acknowledged the 
supremacy of the Pope, the southern part of what is now 
Russia received the faith. 

From Bulgaria, where the two brothers spread the light 
of the Gospel, it penetrated into the southwestern parts of 
the same empire, then held by the Sclavi, who had gone 

In the year 892, Rurick, Sinens, and Tyuwor, three 
brothers, came by invitation from the "Warengi, on the 
borders of the Baltic, and governed the Russi and Sclavo- 
nians in their vicinity. Rurick, being the survivor, was 
sole monarch. He fixed his residence near Lake Lagoda. 
His son Igor transferred his seat of government to Kiow. 
Olga, his wife, surviving him, and going to Constantinople, 
was instructed in the faith, and was there baptized. Though 
her son Suastoslas died an idolater, yet her grandson 
Wladimtr the Great, embraced Christianity and was bap- 
tized; ho married Anne, a Grecian princess, and built the 
city of Wladimiria. By his means the truths of the Gos- 
pel were made known in another portion of what is now 
the Russian empire. 

The manner in which Olga, who is also called Helena, 
conducted herself in very delicate circumstances is worthy 
of notice. Her husband Ihor, or Igor, undertook an expe- 
dition against Constantinople, and having been repulsed by 
the generals of the Emperors Romanus and Constantino, 
was slain by the Dreulans upon his retreat ; Olga, his 
widow, then a pagan, revenged his death, subdued the 
Dreulans, and governed her husband's dominions with great 
prudence. About the year 945, she being then in peace, 
went to Constantinople ; was instructed and baptized by the 
name of Helena, leaving the government to her son Suas- 
toslas. After her conversion she returned home, and died 


in the year 970. Her son never embraced Christianity, but 
his son Wladimir, or, according to others, spelled Volodi- 
mir, became a Christian, and obtained in marriage Anne, 
the sister of the two associated brothers, the Emperors 
Basil and Constantine. Nicholas Chrysoberga, the Roman 
Catholic Patriarch of Constantinople, sent, in 977, a num- 
ber of clergy under the authority of Michael, whom he 
appointed their superior, into this country, in which they 
established the faith and extended considerably the influence 
of the Gospel. The title of Volodimir was Duke of the 
Russi. In the year 1156 George, Duke of Russia, built 
Moscow ; and it was only in the year 1552 that I wan, or 
John II, took the title of Czar, or King of Muscovy. 

That part of Poland which belongs to this empire owes 
its conversion principally to the zealous labors of St. Adal- 
bert, or Albert, in the first instance. 

Adalbert was born in Bohemia in the year 956, and 
was in baptism called Woytiach, which, in Sclavonian, sig- 
nifies " Help of the Army." Being placed by his parents 
under the care of Adalbert, Archbishop of Magdeburg, the 
greatest care was taken of his education, and the arch- 
bishop in confirmation gave him his own name. He was 
promoted to holy orders in 983 by Diethmar, Bishop of 
Prague, and in that same year was appointed successor to 
this same prelate, who died soon after his ordination. He 
was consecrated by the Archbishop of Mentz. Finding but 
little fruit from his preaching in Prague, he went to Rome 
and had his resignation accepted by Pope John XV in 
989, and retired into a monastery ; but in 994 the same 
Pope, at the solicitations of the Archbishop of Mentz, com- 
pelled him to resume his see, with a proviso, that if his 
exertions there should be fruitless, he might retire whither 
he would. Profiting by this clause, upon discovering the 
perfect inutility of his attempts to bring to practical religion 
& people who merely listened to and admired him, and 
were content with the bare and barren profession of the 
faith, he went to preach to the infidels of Poland and 


Hungary, and was on terms of friendship with Stephen, 
king of the latter place, whom he had specially instructed. 

Being again ordered by Pope Gregory V to return to 
Prague, he was refused admittance by Boleslas, Prince of 
Bohemia, and a number of his adherents, upon which he 
retired into Poland, where Miceslas was then duke, and 
whose son and principal counsellor, Boleslas, was a par- 
ticular friend of Adalbert. This Bosleslas, succeeding in 
his wishes of having the people instructed, saw a vast 
accession to ^ the Christian Church, through the labors of the 
holy bishop, who was martyred by a body of Prussian 
infidels, on the 23d of April, 997. Duke Miceslas sent 
ambassadors to Rome, but he died before their return in 
999; he was succeeded by his son Boleslas I, surnamed 
Chabri or the Great, who became the first King of Poland. 

Miceslas, his father, having in 965 embraced the faith 
upon his marriage with a Christian princess, daughter of 
Boleslas, Duke of Bohemia, and sister to him W 7 ho opposed 
the reiiurn of St. Adalbert to Prague, caused the introduc- 
tion of the Gospel into his dominions, and it was fully 
established under the auspices of the son. 

Still further north was a people called Russi or Rutheni, 
who were some of the most northern European Scythians. 
They derived their pedigree from the ancient Roxolani 
mentioned by Strabo and Pliny, as beyond the Boristhynes, 
near the Gatse. The word Rosscia in their language signi- 
fies scattering : and they were supposed to be denominated 
from living, not in towns or cities, but scattered over the 
country. Nations, similarly scattered, were by the Greeks 
called Spori, or scattered. 

About the latter end of the tenth century, a young 
Saxon nobleman, named Boniface or Bruno, leaving the 
court of the Emperor Otho III, joined the Order of Cam- 
aldoli under St. Romuald, and after a long preparation by 
prayer and retirement and meditation, presented himself to 
Pope John XVIII, to preach to the infidels. Having 
received the necessary faculties, he was consecrated arch- 



bishop of his mission by Taymont, Archbishop of Magde- 
burg. Passing through Prussia, he entered the territory of 
the Russi, where he made several converts, having endured 
much persecution and affliction ; he baptized one of the 
kings of that place and several of his people. Soon after 
this, he was seized upon by the- infidels and beheaded,, 
together with eighteen of his companions, in the year 1009 ; 
but the faith continued to make considerable progress after 
his death. 

Finland was principally converted by St. Henry, Arch- 
bishop of Upsal, in 1151. 

In the next century, St. Hyacinth, of the Order of St. 
Dominic, a noble Silesian, of whom I have made mention 
before, extended the faith greatly in Poland. Subsequently 
passing into Lesser Russia, Moscovy, and the neighboring 
nations, he preached with great fruit until the destruction 
of Kiow by the Tartars, in 1231, when he returned into- 
Poland, w r here he remained for some time, and then pro- 
ceeded to join several other members of his order who 
were sent into Tartary. Thousands having embraced the 
faith, one of their princes, together with several lords of 
his nation, attended at the Council of Lateran in 1245. 
Having penetrated through Tartary nearly to Thibet and 
the East Indies, he founded in several places Christian 
churches. Thence* coming back to Poland, he again entered 
Red Russia, where he made many additional converts, and 
returning to Cracow, died in 1257. 

In the year 846, upon the death of St. Methodius, 
Patriarcli of Constantinople, St. Ignatius was raised to that 
dignity. The Emperor Michael III was led, by his favorite 
uncle Bardas, into the most shameful excesses of profligacy. 
The holy patriarch remonstrated with him, but in vain. 
Bardas was, for his criminal habits, driven from the sacra- 
ments and excommunicated. His rage led him to threaten 
to stab Ignatius, but he bethought himself of a less 
revolting mode of revenge. He persuaded the young 
monarch ihat his mother domineered over him and deprived 


him of his just power recommended that Ignatius should 
be ordered to cut off her hair ' and that of her three 
daughters, and have them placed in some monastery. The 
patriarch, of course, refused to perform so irreligious an 
act of violence. Upon which, by the instigation of Bardas, 
Michael had his minions to perform the acts of violence, 
and Ignatius was banished to a monastery in the isle of 
Terebinthus, where every effort w r as used to force him to 
a resignation, which he refused. Photius, a very learned 
but very profligate relative of the emperor, was ordained 
bishop, from being a layman in office at the court, and 
on the sixth day intruded into the patriarchal chair, on 
Christmas day, 858. A synod of bishops met in Constan- 
tinople, and excommunicated Photius, who also proceeded 
against them, not merely with a similar form, but by force 
of arms and with the aid of Bardas. I do not here find 
it necessary to dwell upon facts which shall hereafter be 
particularized ; suffice it to say, that after the unravelling 
of much deceit, Photius was excommunicated by Rome, 
which he had endeavored to deceive. In return, in the 
year 866, by the aid of the emperor, he held a sort of 
council at Constantinople, in which he excommunicated and 
pronounced sentence of deposition against Pope Nicholas, 
and thus commenced the Greek Schism. Bardas was put 
to death in that year by the emperor for conspiring against 
his life ; and in September of the next year, the emperor 
himself was slain by his guard, for attempting to depose 
Basil, whom he had joined with him in the empire. Basil 
succeeded and banished Photius ; Ignatius was restored and 
the schism healed, but its effects were not destroyed. Pho- 
tius, upon the death of Ignatius, in 878, took possession 
of the Church of St. Sophia with an armed force, and 
obtained from John VIII the appointment to the patri- 
archate at the request of Basil, upon conditions which 
Photius never fulfilled. The intruder was then condemned 
by John, and by his successors Martin or Marinus, Adrian 
III, and Stephen V. After the death of Basil, his son 


Leo the Wise, or the Philosopher, succeeded, who at the 
request of Pope Stephen banished Photius into a monastery 
in Armenia, where he died. The union was then perfect 
between the Popes and the Patriarchs of Constantinople 
during upwards of a century; but the schism under Michael 
Cerularius, in 1053, made a very considerable portion of 
the East separate from the centre of unity 

The vicinity of Southern Russia to Constantinople, their 
union for so long a time with that metropolis, from which 
their forefathers had received the faith, and the similarity 
of their discipline, would appear to cause the Muscovites 
easily to be led into the separation. The contiguity of 
Kiow, the then capital of the Russians, to the city, caused 
more frequent communications between the dukes of Russia 
and the emperors of the East, so that the court and the 
principal ecclesiastics, having joined in the schism, it would 
be more generally adhered to. 

This, however, was not the case, for we find strong and 
impregnable evidence of the Russian churches continuing 
Catholic during centuries, notwithstanding the unfounded 
assertions of many sectaries and Catholics to the contrary. 
I have already noticed that Vladimir, the son of Igor, was 
the duke who principally established the faith of Kiow and 
the rest of his dominions. His successor was Jaroslas, his 
son, who was succeeded in 1078 by "Wsevolod I, his grand- 
son, in whose reign Ephrem, Metropolitan of Kiow, executed 
the bull of Urban II for the feast of the translation of 
the relics of St. Nicholas, of Bari, on the 9th of May. 
His son, Andrew Bogoliski, transferred the ducal residence 
from Kiow to Wladimiria. In 1156 George, Duke of 
Russia, recovered Kiow, and built Moscow, so called from 
a monastery called Moskoi, which previously stood there, 
and had its name from Mus or Muisk men, that is, the 
seat or residence of select men. Under George II, Duke 
of Muscovy, in the beginning of the thirteenth century, 
many of the Russians were involved in the schism, but in 
1244, they were formally reunited to the Holy See. His 


son, Alexander, succeeded in 124G. He is honored as a 
saint in the Russian Church, and lived and died in the 
faith and communion of the Roman Catholic Church ; he 
is called St. Alexander Newski, or of Newa, from a great 
victory he obtained over the Poles and Teutonic Knights 
in Livonia, on the banks of Newa, when he was Prince 
of Novogorod, in 1241 ; his death took place in 1262, at 
Gorodes. The Czar, Peter the Great, built a convent of 
Basillian monks to his honor near St. Petersburg, and in 
1725, Catherine instituted the second order of Russian 
knighthood under his name. In 1304 Daniel, fourth son 
of Alexander, left by his father Duke of Moscow, after the 
death of his three elder brothers, became ruler, and made 
Moscow the ducal residence. In 1415, during the reign of 
Basil or Vasili II, Photius, Metropolitan of Russia, residing 
at Kio\v, joined in the Greek schism, and being deposed 
on that account by a council held at Kovogrodek, he retired 
into Great Russia, and there spread his poison. His suc- 
cessor in Kiow, Gregory, assisted at the Council of Con- 
stance. There were then and had been for some time in 
Russia seven archbishops and a proportionate number of 

The schism having made rapid progress, in the year 
1588 the Archbishop of Moscow was, by Jeremy, the schis- 
matical Patriarch of Constantinople, declared Patriarch of all 
Russia, and was recognized as such by the schismatical 
patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, upon con- 
dition that he should be chosen by them. Most of the 
Muscovites, thenceforward, were engaged in the schism, and 
joined several heresies thereto. But the archbishops of Kiow 
still continued Catholic, as did almost all Polish Russia, 
which, since the year 1600, has been under a metropolitan 
of Kiow, archbishop of Ploses, and bishops of Presmilin, 
Liceoria, and Leopold; but in 1686, Kiow being ceded to 
the Muscovites, they established a schismatical metropolitan 
therein Photius and Jonas II being the only preceding 
prelates who were not Catholics. 


The first czar was Iwan, or John IV, in 1552. In the 
reign of Czar Michael Alexis AVitz, Nicon, an ambitious 
and crafty man, was the schismatical patriarch ; he told 
the czar that it w r as a useless and derogatory custom for 
the Patriarch of Muscovy to seek for confirmation from 
Constantinople or the other patriarchates ; that he derived 
his power from the Holy Ghost, and ought not to seek it 
from man. The czar countenanced him, and he quickly 
increased the number of archbishops and bishops in the 
State. Having regulated Church affairs to his liking, he 
next assumed a right to guide the decisions of the senate, 
and to direct the czar in making peace or war, lest he 
might act against conscience, and insisted that he should 
decide upon the justice or injustice of the laws previous to 
their promulgation. The czar and the senate opposed his 
pretensions ; he would not abate a particle excommunicated 
several of the senate, and excited rebellion, in which much 
blood was shed. The czar finding the patriarch still unsub- 
dued, assembled a council in 1667, paying the expenses of 
any bishop in or out of his dominions who would attend; 
it consisted of three patriarchs, twenty-seven archbishops, 
one hundred and ten bishops, and one hundred and fifty 
other Russian ecclesiastics. 

This synod deposed the patriarch, ordering that he should 
be confined during the rest of his life in a convent and 
fed on bread and water : 

That the czar and senate should have votes in the elec- 
tion of the patriarch, who should be amenable to their 

That the Patriarch of Constantinople should have no 
right to the appellation of the head of the Russian Church, 
nor any authority therein, but such ab the czar should 
think proper to bestow on him : 

That no more property should be given or left to con- 
vents or churches ; and that the patriarch should have no 
authority to erect new dioceses or establishments without 
the consent of the czar and the senate. 



In 1588, the great body of the Russian clergy and people 
joined in the Greek schism, and in 1667, they formed an 
independent establishment, of which, in fact, they made the 
czar and senate of the empire the head, and rejecting the 
authority of the Patriarch of Constantinople, formally sepa- 
rated from him. The patriarchs of Moscow still had many 
quarrels with the court until the time of Peter the Great. 

The descendants of Rurick, whom I have noticed before, 
as the founder of the race of dukes and czars, became 
extinct in Feeder or Theodore, in 1598. After some con- 
tention and confusion, Michael, of the family of Romanow, 
allied to the preceding czars, was chosen Great Duke of 
Muscovy, in 1613. His third descendant was Peter the 
Great, who founded the Russian empire. In the year 1700, 
the patriarchate became vacant, and after nineteen years, 
Peter, who had made some unsuccessful negotiations for a 
reunion with the See of Rome, declared himself head of 
the Russian Church, had an archbishop appointed for 
Moscow, and placed the Church government under a sort 
of committee, consisting of ecclesiastics and laymen in 
which state it still continues. 

There is a considerable division in the Russian Church, 
a large body who called themselves Sterawersi, or old 
faithful, having separated from the principal sect. This 
division has existed for a long time, but the formal sepa- 
ration was made in the patriarchate of Nicon. They were 
persecuted by the dominant party until Peter the Great 
established a limited freedom of conscience, tolerating every 
religion, but forbidding any persons to leave the Russian 
Church for the purpose of joining the Roman Catholic. 

Lutheranism was introduced at an early period of the 
sixteenth century, particularly by the Swedes into Finland, 
which, until lately, belonged to them, and into the adjoining 
parts of Archangel and Xovogorod. In 1559, William of 
Furstenberg, Herr Meister of Livonia, or Grand Master of 


the Teutonic Knights, who then governed Livonia, having 
become a Lutheran, resigned his office in favor of Gotthard 
Kettler, who had been his coadjutor master. This man 
having also embraced the new doctrines, ceded a part of 
Livonia to the Danes, and the principal portion to Poland, 
receiving the investiture of the dukedoms of Courtland and 
Samagotia, as secular. The new doctrines spread from those 
places into Russia, so that Lutheranism made considerable 
progress in the northwestern part of that country. In the 
year 1581, Pope Gregory XIII wrote to the czar, John 
Vasilievitz, who was a Roman Catholic, to request he 
would send the Lutheran preachers out of his dominions ; 
but the czar wrote back a refusal, stating that in his 
country all nations should have the free exercise of their 
several religions. 

Many Calvanists subsequently found their way thither 
from the more southern regions of Europe, particularly 
through Poland and Germany, and in the time of Peter 
the Great, from Holland, and lately from Scotland. 

The Armenians separated from the See of Rome, as well 
as those in its communion, are by no means a small number 
of the Christians of this country. The latter, of course, 
being members of the universal Catholic body, are to be 
ranked under their proper head. A very considerable 
portion of this body which was schismatic, and resided in 
Poland under a patriarch, was reunited to the Catholic 
Church, together with its patriarch, in 1616. 

After the conquest of Greece by the Turks, and the 
establishment of Mahommedanism in the east of Europe, 
many of the Mussulmen settled in Russia, and, at present, 
the number in the European part of that empire is by 
no means inconsiderable. 

By these several means, the Roman Catholic religion 
has been greatly reduced in this large empire, but still the 
numbers who have adhered to it are by no means few. 

In the middle of the last century, the Jesuits, who had 
been frequently the objects of gross misrepresentation and 


unfounded calumny, were established in many places, to 
diffuse the light of science in this country. They had pre- 
viously labored as missionaries, and been, to a certain, 
degree, successful ; but, when they were driven from the 
rest of Europe, they, in the dominions of Catherine, found 
an asylum. The great obstacle to their labors was prin- 
cipally the law which forbade any person to become a 
convert; yet many, notwithstanding this law, embraced the, 
doctrines of the Church. In 1782, the number of Roman 
Catholics had greatly increased ; and in the next year, 
at the request of the Empress Catherine II, Stanislaus, 
Siestrzencewez was consecrated in Rome first Archbishop of 
Mohilow, and Primate of the Roman Catholic Church of 
Russia, on the Feast of St. Thomas, the Apostle, December 
21. The patriarchate of Kiow has thus been superseded. 

Upon the seizure of a considerable part of w r hat once 
was Poland by the Empress of Russia, in the last century, 
a considerable accession was made to the Catholic popula- 
tion of the empire ; and when those usurpations had 
received a character of permanence, there were some regula- 
tions of the See of Rome, to settle the jurisdictions of the 
bishops of Poland, etc., within such limits as would not 
interfere with the boundaries of those powers, to which 
they were severally subject. 

In most places within the Russian dominions, as well 
in the Catholic as in the Russian Churches, the liturgy is 
in the Sclavonian dialect. This was established by St*. 
Methodius, after the death of his brother Cyril, by the 
authority of Pope John VIII, in the year 879, which 
custom was confirmed by Pope Urban VIII, and his suc- 
cessor, Innocent X, about 1650; by the Synod of Zamoski,, 
held in 1720, under Innocent XI, then by Pope Innocent 
XIII, and finally by Benedict XIV, in the Bullar. Const. 
98, dat. an. 1744, and Const. Ex pastorali muncrc, 1754. 

The Sclavonic is, probably, with the exception of the- 
Arabic, the most extensive language extant. But its modern- 
dialects are as different from the old mother tongue as any 


modern language is from those which are now called dead 
languages ; and the liturgy in the Latin or Greek would 
be equally intelligible to the congregation as in the tongue 
which is used still by the discipline of the Roman Catholic 
Church, no particular portion thereof having authority to 
-change the language of its rite without either the general 
consent of the whole body or of its head, that is, the bishops 
of the universal Church or the Bishop of Rome. And the 
same reasons which cause the retention of the other original 
languages, Latin, Greek, Coptic, and Syriac, or Chaldaic, 
which is the modern Hebrew, in the liturgies of several 
other portions of the Roman Catholic Church, operate with 
equal force for retaining the old Sclavonic in Russia and 
in the other countries where it was originally adopted. 

A breviary and missal of this tongue, which had been 
revised and corrected by Caraman, afterwards Archbishop 
of Jadra, he having been properly authorized, were printed 
in Rome in 1741 : according to the rules of a dictionary 
of that language, titled Azbuguiderium, i. e., A,b,c,derium. 
The best grammar thereof was compiled by Smotriski, a 
Basilian monk, and printed at "\Vilna in 1619 reprinted 
at Moscow in 1721. 

Some of the Churches in Poland and Moravia, which had 
originally received the Latin liturgy, about the year 1000, 
wished to use the Sclavonian liturgy; but upon the same 
principle which causes the retention of the Sclavonian, in 
those Churches where it was originally established, a synod, 
held at Spalatro, under John, Archbishop of Salona, expressly 
prohibited its introduction to those churches. Maynard, the 
Pope's legate in those parts, forbade its use in any public 
office, to those Churches and clergy who had previously 
used the Latin tongue. These decisions were confirmed by 
Pope Alexander II ; Pope Gregory VII, the successor of 
Alexander, renewed the decree, applying it to the Churches 
in Germany, which were in like manner omitting the 
Latin and adopting the Sclavonian. Some ignorant would-be 
critics, who merely catch at the first glimpse of an apparent 


contradiction to form a judgment and to pronounce a con- 
demnation, and some insidious men of ability who oppose 
the Catholic Church, quote these apparently conflicting decrees 
of several Popes, and similar ones, as proofs of the insta- 
bility of Catholic doctrine, and triumphantly ask, " Is this 
Church infallible?" I really do not know how such men 
ought to be answered; for, in the first place, it would be 
necessary to give them either honesty or information, or 
both. Had they such qualifications, they would acknowledge, 
that so far from being conflicting, these decrees proceed 
upon the same principle, but applied variously, under, 
different circumstances ; and next, Eoman Catholics do not 
<;laim infallibility for the Pope in everything ; nor for the 
Church, except in doctrines of faith and morality; and 
these decrees do not regard either the doctrines of faith 
or the principles of morality, which are immutable; but 
the regulation of discipline, which might, at any moment, 
be changed by proper authority. 

In Russia, some of the Churches have been planted by 
the missionaries from the East, and some by those from 
the West. Each portion had its peculiar ceremonies and 
forms of prayer, different from the other, though their 
doctrines of faith, their principles and morality, and their 
essential discipline, were exactly the same; those Churches, 
generally still retain, not only their original language, but 
also their original ceremonies and forms. Hence, amongst 
the Russian Catholics, great diversity of secondary discipline 
is observable. This has given rise to the assertions of 
some unskillful writers, who conclude that there must be 
a difference of belief, because there is a difference of 
external forms. As well might they conclude that Jansenists 
are Roman Catholics, because all the external forms are 
similar. As well might they conclude that the persons 
who frequent St. Mary's Church in Philadelphia are in the 
communion of the Roman Catholic Church, because the 
young man who officiates therein observes the same forms 
as are observed by duly authorized Roman Catholic priests. 


Communion in spirituals consists in believing the same 
doctrines of faith, being united under the same Church 
government, and obeying the authority of that government, 
and having, of course, the same sacraments. The Russian 
Catholic Churches believe the same doctrines that are 
believed by all other Roman Catholic Churches. They have 
the same sacraments that all other Roman Catholics have ; 
and they are under the government of bishops, who hold 
communion with and are subject to the Bishop of Rome, 
who is the centre of unity and communion for all Roman 
Catholics throughout the world. They acknowledge this 
authority and they obey it; though having been properly 
authorized therefor, their liturgical language and their acci- 
dental ceremonies, which are matters of ecclesiastical disci- 
pline, differ from those of other Churches. By not observing 
this distinction between what is essentially necessary and 
what is matter of conventional regulation, many superficial 
writers and readers have made egregious blunders ; and by 
willfully confusing what ought to be accurately distinguished, 
many ingenious sophists have created considerable delusion. 

Hence, Russia exhibits in her Roman Catholic Churches, 
perhaps the greatest diversity of discipline among all the 
nations, if we except the city of Rome, where there are 
Churches of all rites in communion with the Holy See. 
You find the Greek and Latin rites, in the Greek and 
Latin languages, and both in the old Sclavonian tongue, 
and the Armenian and Syriac rites, all used in several 
Roman Catholic Churches, having different discipline, but 
holding the same faith, and subject to the game authority, 
and united in the common father of Christendom, the 
Bishop of Rome. 

At present, there are in Russia a legate of the Holy 
See, the Archbishop of Mohilow, and several bishops, the 
exact number I do not know, and a very considerable 
number of the clergy of the several rites, and monks and 
friars of various orders, together with the faithful attached 
to them, in union with the Bishop of Rome and the rest 


of the Roman Catholic Churches ; and during the last 
twenty or thirty years, notwithstanding the difficulties to 
conversion created by the laws, the progress of Catholicity 
in this vast empire has been and continues to be steady 
and considerable. 

From the documents which I have been able to collect 
and to compare, I believe the following estimate will be 
found a pretty accurate representation of the religious situa- 
tion of the European portion of Russia : 

Various divisions of the Russian established and other similar 

Churches, separated from the Holy See, about 20,000,000 

Roman Catholics of various rites 9,000,000 

Lutherans 3,000,000 

Other Protestants 1,500,000 

Mahometans 1,250,000 

Pagans 3,500,000 

Total population of European Russia , 38,250,000 


a contrast does this country now exhibit to what 
it once was ! How faded in its religious glories ! How 
debased its morality ! What a series of instructive events 
does its history contain ! The research of the antiquarian, 
the imagination of the poet, the investigation of the phi- 
losopher, the classic taste of the scholar, the reflection of 
the legislator, may all here find abundant employment. 
Here, too, the fragments which have escaped the unsparing 
hand of time and the ravages of barbarism and avarice, 
still exhibit models for an age which boasts of its progress 
beyond those which have preceded it. Upon this soil 
liberty had its defenders. Themistocles and Miltiades 
and Leonidas are no more. Demosthenes has long been 
silent. The productions of Apelles are decayed, and where 
are the men? They have vanished from this world they 


exist in another. We have no ground for determining their 
fate. The God who searches the hearts of men, who alone 
could judge of the opportunities which He afforded them, 
and who alone could determine how they corresponded with 
those opportunities, has judged them, and has not revealed 
that judgment to us. It would, therefore, be rashness and 
presumption in us to prononnce upon the fate of others, 
without a sufficient motive to direct our judgment. We 
have not such a motive, neither are we constituted judges- 
over these men ; but our duty is to labor strenuously in 
turning to account the opportunities afforded to ourselves. 
And in contemplating the history of religion in Greece, 
which is the present Turkey in Europe, we have a most 
instructive lesson for the direction of our conduct. 

The Apostle St. Paul appears to have been the first 
Christian missionary in Greece, at least the first who founded 
Churches and established bishops in the country. 

We read in chapter xvi of the Acts of the Apostles, 
that when St. Paul was at Troas in Lysia he saw, in a 
dream, an inhabitant of Macedonia inviting him to go 
thither and help them ; on which account he sailed from 
Troas, and passing the Island of Samothracia he went to 
Neapolis, which was upon the confines of Thrace in Mace- 
don thence he went to Philippi, and subsequently to 
Amphipolis, Apollonia, and Thessalonica whence he was 
sent to Beroea, when he sailed to Athens, where he preached 
in the Areopagus ; subsequently he established the Church 
of Corinth. 

After having left Greece in the year 53, Churches having 
been established in those several places which I mentioned, 
he remained some time in Asia; but, in the year 57, he 
again sailed from Troas for Maccdon to revisit his Grecian 
Churches ; and having written from Macedon his second 
epistle to the Corinthians, he complains of some divisions 
and irregularities amongst them, answers some questions pro- 
posed by them concerning marriage and celibacy (c. vii and 
xi), complains of some irregular practices at the time of 


receiving the Holy Eucharist, and states that upon his 
arrival he will make a regulation upon the subject 
(v. 34). He was at Corinth in the year 58, when he 
wrote his epistle to the Romans; and St. Augustine 1 informs 
us that it was then he made the regulation, that no per- 
son should receive the Holy Eucharist except fasting, unless 
in case of danger of death; which was immediately adopted 
as a general rule by the whole Church, and has continued 
unchanged to the present day. In the next year St. Paul 
left Greece and the bishops whom he had established in 
the several churches zealously followed up his labors, and 
soon spread the light of the Gospel through that country. 

Amongst the bishops who governed those Churches, the 
most remarkable in the first and second ages were St. 
Denis, the Areopagite, first Bishop of Athens, appointed 
and consecrated by St. Paul to that charge in the year 
51 ; St. Denis, Bishop of Corinth in the time of Pope 
Soter, about the year 170; Publius, who was Bishop of 
Athens in the year 1 50 ; and his successor, Quadratus,. 
who was one of the first apologists for the Christians, he 
having drawn up and sent one to the Emperor Adrian ; 
Athenagoras, an Athenian philosopher, who had been con- 
verted to Christianity, also presented an apology for the 
Christians in the reign of Marcus Aurelius. 

Greece also gave many martyrs to the Church in the 
succeeding ages ; but the blood of the martyrs only ferti- 
lized the soil of Christianity. 

In the year 323, by the defeat of Licinius, Constantine 
the Great found himself at the head of the Roman Empire; 
and in that year, at Byzantium, in Thrace, he had deter- 
mined to think of becoming a Christian. He had not 
been altogether uninstructed in its principles, having imbibed 
them from his holy mother, St. Helena. Upon his arrival 
at Byzantium, he was waited upon by a deputation of 
Pagan philosophers, who represented to him the great evils 
that would flow from innovation, and the folly of changing 

i Ep. 118 ad. Jan. 


from the faith of his fathers, and the possibility of serving 
God with a good heart under any system of religion. 
Alexander, the Bishop of Byzantium, was called before the 
emperor and asked if he could answer their arguments. 
The bishop requested one to be selected to speak for all; 
and after he had commenced his train of reasoning, Alex- 
ander stated that he was no great logician, but the servant 
of a God of might, who could instantly confound human 
pride, and commanded the philosopher, in the name of 
Jesus Christ, to be silent. He was struck dumb. Con- 
stantine immediately afterwards published edicts favorable to 
the Christians ; and upon the site of Byzantium, he raised 
the city which, after himself, he called Constantinople, and 
which, from being the seat of the empire, was frequently 
called New Rome. 

Arius, the author of an impious and blasphemous heresy 
in Alexandria, the capital of Egypt, came to Constantinople 
to try and make interest with the emperor. Alexander 
refused to receive him into communion or permit him to 
enter any of the churches of his diocese ; but Arianism 
insinuated itself into Greece and caused much calamity. 
Sometimes the emperors and courtiers upheld the Arians 
and persecuted the Catholics. After the time of Constan- 
tine, the See of Constantinpple was raised to the metro- 
politan dignity; it had been previously suffragan to the 
Archbishop of Heraclea, in Thrace. An attempt was made 
in the Council of Chalcedon, in 451, to elevate its rank 
above every other see, except Rome ; and by the contriv- 
ance of the clergy of Constantinople and several of the 
suffragans and neighboring bishops, a canon to that effect 
was voted ; it was the 28th ; but St. Leo, who was then 
Pope, gave his sanction only to the first 27, thereby 
excluding that which was the 28th, and a number of other 
canons which were irregularly passed after the departure 
of the legates, Paschasinus, Bishop of Lilybum, Lucentius, 
Bishop of Ascoli, and Boniface, a priest of Rome, who 
presided in the name of St. Leo, together with several 


other prelates. St. Protarius, Patriarch of Alexandria, and 
the bishops of Egypt, together with a considerable portion of 
the Oriental prelates, also opposed this innovation; and for 
.some time the bishops of Constantinople relinquished their 

In the year 553, the second general council of Constan- 
tinople was held, and a new attempt was made to raise 
that see to the patriarchal dignity and to extend its juris- 
diction. This was scarcely resisted, and Constantinople 
.thenceforward ranked next in dignity to Rome. 

We have, in the history of the Greek Church, which 
may be said principally to consist in the history of the 
See of Constantinople, one of the strongest and most melan- 
choly exhibitions of the fatal consequences of the domination 
-of worldly power over the affairs of the Church ; and in 
the exhibition of to-day, we have the confirmation of my 
.assertion. If religion be made to depend for its support 
upon worldly means or the power of princes or States, it 
will become the sport of human folly and the prey of 
Jmman passion. Constantinople was elevated to dignity by 
iiuman power and worldly intrigue, and those same causes 
Jhave also produced its degradation. 

Before the death of Alexander, bishop of that see in 
340, Paul, a native of Thesalonica, who had been a deacon 
of his church, was recommended by that prelate as his 
'successor. He was regularly appointed and consecrated. 
JJut the Arian party were desirous of having one who 
would favor their views ; and accordingly they raised up 
Maeedonius, one of their partisans, to be Paul's competitor. 
The Emperor Constantius banished Paul and Maeedonius, 
-and invited Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, to govern that 
see. Thus we perceive how soon worldly domination began 
to exhibit itself upon the profession of the faith by the 
emperors, and how quickly they found amongst the clergy 
Avilling instruments. Paul took refuge with St. Maximinus 
Bishop of Triers, in Gaul, whence he proceeded to Rome, 
for the purpose of laying his case before the Pope. Here 



he found St. Athanasius, who had come for a like purpose, 
uuder similar circumstances, having been driven from his 
See of Alexandria, in Egypt, by the Arians also. 

Pope Julius I was holding a synod, which was attended 
by eighty bishops; and after examining the cases of Athan- 
asius and Paul, he restored them to their sees, and sent 
them back with letters of injunction to their flocks. 
Eusebius, however, kept forcible possession of the See of 
Constantinople until his death, about nine or ten months 
after. The Arians had gained considerable sway over Con- 
stantius, and again procured the banishment of Paul. 

Hermogenes, his general, was ordered by Constant! us, who 
was in Antioch upon his way to Thrace, to pass by Con- 
stantinople and to drive Paul out of the city. The people 
resisted the general, and he was slain. Constantius came 
to the city, pardoned the people, and banished the bishop. 
Paul, upon his own application and at the request of the 
Pope, received, in 344, letters from Constans, the Emperor 
of the West, to his brother Constantius, requesting he would 
suffer the bishop to remain in his see for the government of 
his Church. Thus, he was enabled to remain until 350, 
when, Constans dying, his enemies succeeded in procuring his 
banishment, and he was, in 351, strangled in prison in 
Cucusus, a small town in a most unhealthy situation in the 
deserts of Mount Taurus, upon the confines of Cappadocia 
and Armenia, having been previously left six days without 
food in his dungeon. 

Philip, the prefect of the Pretorian band, was the officer 
commissioned to remove Paul from his see and knowing 
the facility of exciting a tumult in Constantinople he, though 
an Arian, privately sent for Paul, and showed him the 
order for his banishment, requesting that, to preserve peace, 
he would quietly obey. Meantime a crowd had assembled 
outside the bath where the bishop and the prefect con- 
versed. The bishop, seeing contention useless, consented 
and the prefect caused a passage to be privately broken 
through the rear of the building, through which the bishop 


escaped, and lay concealed in the palace until lie tfas em- 
barked for the place of his destiny. 

Philip next proceeded to fulfill the other part of his 
commission, and took Macedonius in state to be installed 
in the Cathedral. The Catholics and the Novations united 
in their opposition, blocked up the passages, and refused 
to make "way; the military were brought out, and upwards 
of three thousand persons were killed on both sides. The 
prefect conducted Macedonius into the church and placed 
him in possession of the episcopal throne. The intruder 
now turned his attention to annoy the Novatians, and find- 
ing they were pretty numerous in Paphlagonia he procured 
an order from the emperor to have four regiments sent to 
compel them to embrace Arianism. The Paphlagonians pre- 
pared for the contest, and the soldiers were nearly all slain. 

Upon a subsequent occasion he was opposed by the people 
in an attempt to remove the body of Constantiue from the 
Church of the Apostles to that of St. Acacius, which caused 
dreadful carnage in the churches. The emperor, at length, 
weary of the repetition of these scenes, undertook to depose 
him. Macedonius now hated the Arians equally as he did 
the Catholics. The former denied the divinity of the Son 
of God the latter believed in the divinity of the Father, 
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Macedonius, in 
order to oppose both, asserted the divinity of the Son, and 
denied that of the Holy Ghost thus forming a new sect, 
which, after him, were called Macedonians and Pneuinato- 
machics, and other times Marathonians ; the first name they 
derived from their founder the second from the peculiarity 
of their doctrine, opposers of the Holy Ghost the third 
from Marathon, Bishop of Nicomedia, who was a principal 
abettor of their errors, and without whose aid it is sup- 
posed the sect never would have been formed. This error 
spread principally through Thrace, along the shores of the 
Hellespont, and in Bithynia, and was condemned in the 
first Council of Constantinople in 381. 

The perpetual interference of the emperors and their offi- 


cers, who sometimes were Catholics, and sometimes mem- 
bers of some one of the various new heresies which w T ere 
perpetually ravaging the Church of Constantinople, together 
with the restless spirit of its population, caused the greatest 
disorders and irregularities in this Church. St. John Chry- 
sostom and St. Gregory Nazianzen, two of the brightest 
ornaments of the Christian world, were bishops of this see, 
and suffered the greatest persecutions and afflictions for their 
attempts to preserve Church discipline. 

At the Council in 381 the title of St. Gregory Isazian- 
zen to the See of Constantinople was recognized ; but, find- 
ing that he could not preserve the peace of the Church 
consistently with its discipline, he resigned, and was suc- 
ceeded by Nectarius. The emperor wrote to the Pope, 
requesting that, for the sake of peace, he would confirm 
these acts. 


I have merely glanced at the prominent facts which the 
early history of this portion of the Church exhibits. We 
have seen, however, that Byzantium was an episcopal see, 
subjeqt to the Archbishop of Heraclea, in Thrace, and that 
although this town was by Constantino enlarged and orna- 
mented and raised to the dignity of a capital of the 
empire, this made no change in the bishop's title, until 
subsequently, after much exertion, first it was raised to be 
an archbishopric, then began to lay claim to the patriarchal 
dignity, not from any allegation of original divine right, but 
from the concession of some councils and the voluntary 
submission of some bishops. Still, however, in the year 
381, this claim was not recognized by Rome nor generally 

la the year 381 a provincial council was held in that 
city,, at which St. Meletius, Patriarch of Antioch, presided, 
and during the celebration of which he died. He was keld 
in such esteem for his sanctity that the people pressed 
round the dead body to touch it with linen, which they 


afterwards preserved as relics. The acts of this council 
were afterwards received by the whole Church, and thus it 
has the authority, of a general council from its acceptation. 

The second canon of this council regulates the discipline 
of jurisdiction and boundary, prohibiting the bishops from 
creating confusion by interfering in the concerns of other 
Churches, and renews the decisions of the Council of Nice 
by forming the provinces, stating that Alexandria should 
govern the province of Egypt; the eastern bishops should 
regulate their own. discipline, paying due honor to the pri- 
macy of the Church of Antioch, according to the Nicene 
statutes ; the bishops of Asia Minor should also regulate 
their own discipline ; those of Pontius that of their prov- 
ince, and the bishops of Thrace that of this province. 
This canon is found also in its proper place in the code 
of canon law, 9 qti. 2 cap. Episcopi qui extra. The thirty- 
fourth of the apostolic canons had previously made a sim- 
ilar enactment, so far only as regarded ordinations, under 
the penalty of deposition of the person ordaining and of 
those ordained. The Greek copy of this canon of Con- 
stantinople has a paragraph which is not found in the Latin 
copy, regulating, that "the Churches amongst the barbarians 
shall be administered according to the custom of the fathers, 
which has been preserved." 

The canon of the Council of Nice principally referred 
to is the sixth. The fifteenth and sixteenth have also a 
bearing upon the case. Gratian quotes a canon of the 
Council of Antioch, held in 341, under Julius I, to the 
same effect. (Episcopum non debere, cap. 9 quaest. 9 ; in 
others, quaest. 2). This was the thirteenth canon of Antioch; 
and in the twenty-second of the same synod, the principle 
v-us applied to special cases. This Council of Antioch was 
far from being general, and some of its canons were rejected; 
Imt the thirteenth and twenty-second are' amongst those 
received and confirmed, as having been founded upon the 
principle of the canon of the general Council of Nice, and 
confirmed by the first Council of Constantinople, which 


became general by acceptation ; and in the year 410 Pope 
Innocent T, who rejected some of the canons of this council 
and admitted others, received and confirmed the thirteenth 
and twenty-second. It was upheld by several other decisions 
during upwards of eleven hundred years ; it was finally rati- 
fied by the Council of Trent, when that council remodelled 
the discipline, and repealed a considerable portion of the 
canons of the preceding ages. In the sixth session, held 
on the 13th of January, 1547, the fifth canon of reforma- 
tion, which was the last canon of that session, re-enacts 
and confirms the principle of the second canon of the first 
Council of Constantinople, with a penalty nearly similar to 
that of the thirty-fourth apostolic canon, and the editor 
quotes as precedents those two canons, together with those 
of Nice and Antioch ; the thirteenth of the second Council 
of Aries, about 442; the third and nineteenth canons of 
the Council of Sardica, in the year 347, under the famous 
Osius, Bishop of Cordova; and the fifteenth canon of the 
third Council of Orleans, held in 538. 

There was, however, a special object in passing this second 
canon at Constantinople, which was only exhibited by the 
production of the third canon. Thrace having been now 
made a province, and placed upon an equality with Egypt 
and the province of Antioch, there having been also a 
number of new provinces created, which were not previ- 
ously known, the next regulation should concern their rank. 
In Nice, the only patriarchates recognized were Antioch, 
which had formerly been the See of Peter, and Alexandria, 
which was the see of his disciple, St. Mark. Other prov- 
inces of minor note were referred to, without being named; 
but now we find not only Antioch and Alexandria, but 
also Asia Minor, Pontus, and Thrace. 

The third canon then proceeds to give Constantinople 
the first rank amongst those, and enacts : " Let the Bishop 
of Constantinople have the first place of honor after the 
Bishop of Rome, because Constantinople is New Rome." 

This canon was not approved of by the Pope, nor was 


it accepted together with the other canons in the West, 
nor in Egypt, though it was partially received in Syria 
and in Asia Minor. The patriarchate of Antioch did not 
comprehend Thrace. That country was in the western 
patriarchate, which, upon two grounds, therefore, required 
the assent of the Bishop of Rome, for any change in 
territorial jurisdiction or precedence, first as patriarch of 
that special district, and next as head of the whole Church. 
Yet, though it was not ratified by him, it was acted upon 
voluntarily by those who enacted it; and we find also the 
second canon violated almoct immediately, for the Bishop 
of Constantinople not only governed Thrace, but interfered 
in Pontus and Asia Minor, and part of Antioch ; and the 
emperors who were anxious to add as much as possible 
to the splendor of the new imperial city, gave their coun- 
tenance and support to the usurpation ; but to this day 
the consequences of endeavoring to create and uphold 
spiritual power by such means, have destroyed religion in 
this miserable Church. 

About this time, the errors of Apollinaris, Bishop of 
Laodicea, made some progress in the Churches of Greece. 
The principle of his error was found in the doctrines of 
Pythagorean philosophy. The reputed sage had taught that 
man had two souls, the rational and the sensitive, the one 
a pure spirit which possessed the higher powers of our 
nature, the other a nondescript substance, which was the 
receptacle of sensation and the seat of passion. Apollinaris 
taught that Christ had the sensitive soul, but not the 
rational soul, the existence of which he contended would 
be useless in consequence of the union of the divinity. 
St. Gregory Nazianzen, who had abdicated the See of Con- 
stantinople, which was now governed by Nectarius, opposed 
this error in the East, and St. Ambrose, of Milan, wrote 
against it in the West, and St. Anathasius in Africa. 

The successor of Nectarius was St. John Chrysostom. 
This holy man used all the influence of his zeal, his 
eloquence, and his piety, to restore the discipline of the 


Church, but the power of the court was too strong, and 
his efforts were unavailing. The Empress Eudoxia always 
found a sufficient number of the clergy ready to aid her 
in her projects of persecution against a prelate who was 
alike unmoved by the threats of power or the blandish- 
ments of luxury. He was frequently banished for the 
discharge of duty and as often recalled. On Easter eve, 
A. D. 404, four hundred soldiers attacked the faithful, who 
followed him to a private chapel, where he was baptizing 
the catechumens, as he could not consistently with the 
principles of the Church go into the cathedral. Vast num- 
bers were slain, the baptismal fonts filled with blood, the 
very Eucharist trampled under foot by savages who called 
themselves Catholics. The holy bishop ended his days in 
exile, from the hardships he endured on his transportation 
to Armenia, in the month of September, 407. 

Arsacius, brother to Nectarius, the former prelate, was- 
intruded upon the Church, but Pope Innocent I refused to- 
recognize or receive him into communion, and he was sup- 
ported by the court. This was the first schism between 
the Latin and Greek Churches. Fourteen months after 
this, Anticus, an Armenian monk, was promoted to this 
see, and was received into communion upon his erasing 
from the dyptics of his Church the name of Arsacius, and 
substituting that of John Chrysostom, which the usurper 
had erased. The Church of Alexandria had the misfortune 
to have at its head, previously to this, Theophilus, the 
worst enemy of St. John Chrysostom ; he was succeeded 
by his nephew, Cyril, who made a similar change in the 
dyptics of Alexandria to that which Atticus made in those 
of Constantinople. Atticus was succeeded by Sisinnius; and 
after his death, Nestorius was brought thither from Antiocli, 
in 428. 


Scarcely was Nestorius fixed in his see when he began 
to introduce erroneous doctrines which he had imbibed 
from Theodore of Mopsuestia. He taught in his cathedral 


that Christ had two persons as he had two natures, and 
therefore, that the expression which was usual amongst 
Christians when speaking of the blessed Virgin was incor- 
rect that they should not style her Mother of God, because 
she was only mother of the human person, but not of the 
divine person. The people rose up instantly and interrupted 
him in the midst of his discourse, stating that he was 
changing their doctrines, and that if an angel from heaven 
were to preach a c different doctrine from what they had 
received from Jesus Christ through the Apostles and their 
successors, they could not receive it, for they were bound 
to believe the revelations of God, and it would be impiety 
to believe doctrines contradictory to what Jesus Christ 

Theodore of Mopsuestia fell into his error by too vio- 
lently opposing Apollinaris. Nestor ius carried the false 
principles of Theodore to farther results than his teacher, 
and thus in their consequences proved their falsehood. 
Besides endeavoring to abolish the expression respecting the 
Blessed Virgin, which had been always known in the- 
Church, Nestorius tried also to banish other phrases equally 
consecrated by truth and usage, and which the pagans cited 
as proofs of the folly of Christianity: "A God has died," 
" God has suffered." Nestorius stated that those expressions 
arose from a mistake of the doctrine, but his flock contended 
that their belief was correct and his doctrine a novelty. 

The new archbishop was in high favor at court and 
immediately procured the aitl of the civil and military 
power for his support, but the people Avould not change 
their faith. As every error will necessarily create opposition,, 
and that opposition create noise and tumult, not only was 
this wretched Church now torn into factions, but these also- 
communicated their feelings and opinions to their neighbors, 
so that all Greece and a considerable portion of Asia and 
Egypt became embroiled. St. Cyril, the Patriarch of Alex- 
andria, having been consulted by some of the monks of 
his district, decided that the Archbishop of Constantinople 


had erred. Nestorius had the decision of Cyril answered 
by Photius, to which Cyril replied, and now the contest 
was violent. 

Acacius, Bishop of Berea, and John, Patriarch of Antioch, 
condemned Nestorius, but were of opinion that Cyril was 
too violent. Cyril and Nestorius had both written to Pope 
Celestin, who held a provincial council at Rome, in which 
Nestorianism was condemned, as it was also in a provincial 
council held by Cyril in Egypt. Nestorius retorted its own 
anathemas upon the synod of Alexandria, and appealed to 
a general council. This general council was held at Ephesus 
in 431, and Nestorius was condemned there; after which, 
the more strongly to mark their faith, the Catholics took , 
every occasion of using the very phrases which Nestorius 
strove to abolish "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for 
us sinners now and at the hour of our death," etc. Nes- 
torius, having been deposed, retired to a monastery, but 
did not embrace the true faith. The Emperor Theodosius 
the younger prohibited the assemblies of the Nestorians, 
and banished numbers of them, who went principally to 
Persia and Syria. 

This same Theodosius had the relics of St. John Chry- 
sostom brought with great pomp from the East to Constan- 
tinople, in the time of Proclus, the successor of Nestorius. 
Flavian succeeded Proclus, and in his time another heresy 
originated in this city. Eutyches, the archimandrite or 
abbot of a monastery near Constantinople, was its author. 

The rage of opposition to Nestorianism was such amongst 
this speculative and hot-headed people, that it was easy to 
lead them to the other extreme. Nothing was wanted but 
a leader, and Eutyches was fitted for that post. Austere 
and mortified, his appearance of sanctity, together with the 
situation which he held, gave him weight with the multi- 
tude, who were greatly taken with the vehemence of his 
declamations against Nestorianism. He was more headstrong 
and obstinate than intelligent or well informed, and he was 
held in some estimation at court. His spirit had also 


something of a disposition to persecute, and he is looked 
upon as a promoter of the severities inflicted upon the 

Eutyches inveighed against the impiety of those who 
dared to say that in Jesus Christ there were two persons, 
when there were not even two natures ; for although the 
Son of God assumed our nature, in Him it was destroyed. 
It was no longer human nature after the personal union ; 
Jesus Christ had then but one person and one nature. 
The Nestorian denied that Christ was one person possessing 
two natures. Eutyches denied that Christ had two natures 
in one person. The Catholic Church has always taught 
that in Christ there are two natures, the divine and human, 
united in one person. The errors of Eutyches were spread 
through several monasteries, and found their way into 
Egypt and the East. Eusebius, Bishop of Dorylea, who 
had been one of the earliest opponents of Xestorius, was 
also one of the first to detect the error of Eutyches. 
Finding his remonstrances with the archimandrite unavailing, 
he presented a formal complaint for heresy, without speci- 
fying the tenets against him, to Flavian, who then presided 
in a synod at Constantinople, which was held to regulate 
a dispute between the metropolitan of Lydia and two of 
his suffragans. 

The abbot was summoned to attend, but feigned several 
excuses, and had it privately whispered through the monas- 
teries that Flavian was a tyrant, who would not admit him 
to communion unless he signed a paper which he did not 
understand. Being obliged to appear before the synod, he 
was convicted; but availing himself of his credit at court, 
he obtained through the emperor an order for a council at 
Ephesus. Dioscorus, Patriarch of Alexandria, aasumed the 
presidency. Together with a small party which was attached 
to Eutyches, he disregarded the authority of the papal legates 
who came to preside, deposed Flavian and those who had 
suspended and condemned the archmandrite. Him they 
restored, and then finding the majority of bishops to be 


opposed to their acts, Dioscorus introduced the army, which 
was at his command. The orthodox bishops protested 
against this violence, but the opposite party cried out to 
put down their opponents. Flavian was trodden to such a 
state as soon produced his death, and others with difficulty 
escaped. None of the acts of this horrid assembly have 
been received by the Church. Pope St. Leo condemned 
this synod, and did all he coukl to prevail on Theodosius 
to suffer a proper council to assemble, but he would not 
consent. The Pope saw it would be useless to convoke it 
in opposition to the wishes of the emperor; but Theodo- 
sius soon dying, Marcian, his successor, afforded every 
facility, and a general council was held at Chalcedon, in 
which Eutyches was condemned, in the year 451. This 
was the fourth general council. Dioscorus was deposed and 

Anatolius contrived to get into the See of Constantinople, 
after the death of Flavian ; and his ambition urged him 
in the Council of Chalcedon to attempt elevating the rank 
of Constantinople. Favored by the court and a consider- 
able number of the bishops, a resolution w"as obtained in 
one of the sessions, after the regular business had been 
disposed of, by which resolution it was agreed, " That since 
the Church of Constantinople has the honor equally with 
Rome of being an imperial city and the seat of a senate, 
it ought to enjoy equal privilege and dignity with the 
Church of Rome, and therefore the provinces of Pontus 
and Asia and Thrace ought to belong to its jurisdiction, 
and be subject to the Bishop of Constantinople, and that 
their metropolitans should thenceforward be consecrated at 

But when this was read in presence of the legates they 
immediately rejected and condemned it, stating that their 
instructions from the Pope upon the subject were clear and 

The Fathers who had agreed to it were further pre- 
vailed upon to write to the Pope, requesting he would 


confirm what his legates had refused to sanction, and their 
own words will exhibit the influence which was employed. 
After stating their condemnation of Eutyches in conformity 
with the wishes of the Pope, and concurring with his 
legates, they continue : " "\Ve have thought fit to regulate 
some points of discipline, for the peace and welfare of the 
Church, in giving to the Bishop of Constantinople the next 
rank after Rome, but your legates have opposed it though 
we have only in this confirmed the judgment of the one 
hundred and fifty bishops assembled in Constantinople in 
the reign of Theodosius the Great, which bishops decreed 
also that the Bishop of Constantinople should have priv- 
ilege next after your Holy See. In opposing it, we sup- 
pose your legates were only moved by the desire of 
leaving to you the honor of doing personally this act, 
which is to insure- the peace of the Church. In our 
decree we have been influenced by the wish of the em- 
peror, the desire of the senate, and the request of the 
whole imperial city. By your confirmation you will insure 
the everlasting gratitude and strict adherence of the See of 
Constantinople. And as the credit of the good actions of 
children redound to the glory of their father, we pray you 
to honor our decrees by your judgment ; and as we, your 
children, have joined in your judgment of faith, so you, 
our head, may in return concur in the regulation which 
we have originated as productive of great good. By so 
doing, you will also highly gratify the emperor and the 
imperial city." 

St. Leo refused his sanction, and wrote to the emperor 
and to his religious empress and to the Archbishop of Con- 
stantinople, expostulating with them and giving the reasons 
for his refusal, stating, amongst others, that the civil 
dignity of a city was no ground for its ecclesiastical pre- 
eminence. It may also be remarked, that in this council 
there was no Patriarch of Alexandria to make opposition, 
for in the very first session Dioscorus had been deposed. 
Juvenal of Jerusalem held but an honorary distinction void 


of jurisdiction, and Maximus of Antioch did not appear to 
interest himself; for by giving Pontus and Asia proper to 
Constantinople, together with Thrace, there was no encroach- 
ment upon his jurisdiction, as it did not extend north of 
Mount Taurus and the river Tigris. But the bishops of 
the province of Ephesus strongly opposed it. Another 
lemark which should be made here is, that even at this 
period Greece proper, which is the ancient Peloponnesus 
and Achaia, together with Macedonia, Epirus, and Illyricum, 
were not in the patriarchate formed or intended to be 
formed for Constantinople, but were in the western patri- 
archate, of which Thrace was originally a portion. 

Though the canons by which it was hitherto attempted to- 
raise Constantinople were thus rendered invalid, still they 
were not inoperative. The ambition of the emperors and 
their courtiers, and sometimes the ambition and sometimes 
the weakness of the archbishops of the new imperial city r 
joined to the submission of the bishops of the new 
division, gave virtually an efficacy to the regulation. Ana- 
tolius exercised the power by the consent sometimes of 
those over whom he claimed jurisdiction, and at other 
times aided by the civil power he compelled submission. 
This introduction of the civil power to cause the execu- 
tion of ecclesiastical decrees has been the ruin of Church 
discipline, and has laid the foundation of the intermeddling 
of kings and emperors with Church concerns, and has been 
productive, upon the whole, of incalculable mischief. 

After the death of Anatolius, Gennadius, a good and 
pious bishop, governed the Church of Constantinople during 
a few years, and upon his death, in 471, Acacius, a bishop 
of a very different character, occupied his place. 

The Emperor Marcian died in 457, and was succeeded by 
Leo Marcelles, who reigned until 474, when he was 
succeeded by Zeno the Isaurian, who filled the throne 
until 491, with the exception of the period that Basiliscus 
tyrannized in Constantinople, during the temporary abdica- 
tion of Zcno and his flight into Isauria. 


During that period the dreadful effects of this new 
interference in ecclesiastical concerns exhibited themselves. 
When the Christians were persecuted by the emperors, 
religion was preserved pure and uncontaminated ; but when 
the emperors became the protectors of the Church, and the 
union of Church and State was formed, bishops became 
courtiers, and the episcopacy was now in a place of less 
trouble, less danger, less privation, more honor, more 
wealth, and more influence. Courtiers regulated Church 
affairs by the principles of human policy, and the \ Church 
was agitated by the concussions of the State. The igno- 
rance of Leo, the vacillating tyranny of Basiliscus, and the 
officious interference of Zeno, under the guidance of the 
wily Acacius, threw everything into confusion ; there was 
scarcely a see in the Patriarchate of Constantinople, whose 
bishop was not exiled or deposed by one or other of 
those three rulers ; and persecution for difference of faitli 
began to be formally introduced into Christianity. 

Leo was orthodox, but ignorant ; Zeno cared nothing for 
religion, and plundered his subjects, whilst the barbarians 
ravaged his provinces with impunity. He having fled to- 
avoid the rage of the people, Basiliscus, brother-in-law to> 
Leo, usurped the throne. He wished to make a party, 
and finding many Eutychians to whom he was attached, 
he condemned the Council of Chalcedon, and banished and 
deposed several bishops who refused to sign his act of 
condemnation. After two years, upon the return of Zeno, 
he was sent by him into Oappadocia, where he and his 
wife and children were put into a castle, the apertures of 
which were ^uilt up, and the unhappy inmates left there 
to starve. Zeno undid all that Basiliscus had done, and 
deposed those whom he had favored. But the Catholics and 
Eutychians had now come to violent opposition. To try and 
reconcile both parties, Acacius 4 recommended to the emperor 
to publish an edict, in which the exposition of the Catholic 
faith concerning the incarnation was accurately given; but to 
gratify the Eutychians, no mention was made of the Council 


of Chalcedon, or of its decrees. This edict was called 
Henotikon, or edict of union. The Eutychians refused 
to embrace its doctrines the Catholics refused to treat a 
general council with disrespect. Acacius advised Zeno to 
punish both. The emperor followed his advise, and banished 
most of the bishops of the empire, persecuting both sides 
most unsparingly. This is the first instance we find on 
record of monarchs regulating the doctrines of religion. 

Pope St. Leo died in 461, and was succeeded by St. 
Hilary, who died in 470. His successor was St. Simplicius, 
who died in 483, and was succeeded by Felix III. This 
Pope sent three legates, Vitalis and Misenus, bishops, and 
Felix, to Constantinople, to remonstrate against this perse- 
cution, to have the edict cancelled, and to prevail upon 
the emperor to withdraw his support from Peter Moggus, 
the unprincipled Patriarch of Alexandria. Acacius had so 
completely gained upon the emperor that he had the legates, 
thrown into prison, and then succeeded in bringing the two 
bishops to enter into communion with Peter Moggus. The 
Pope assembled a council in Home, deposed his legates 
and excommunicated Acacius, who in return excommunicated 
the Pope. This began the second schism of Constantinople. 

Acacius died in 488, and was succeeded by Flavita, who 
not only was a schismatic but a heretic. The wretched 
people were now divided into three parties, the Catho- 
lics, the Eutychians, and a middle party called the Doubt- 
ful all irreconcilable. Flavita was soon succeeded by 
Euphemius, who held the Catholic faith, and received the 
Council of Chalcedon, but he found the district in a mis- 
erable situation. Acacius had, in revenge for the excom- 
munication of Felix, deposed most of the orthodox bishops, 
and Flavita was anxious to fill their places with Eutychians, 
so that the faith was lost in many of the Churches. 
Euphemius wrote to Pope G^Jasius, the successor of Felix, 
who died in 492, that he condemned Dioscorus and received 
the Council of Chalcedon, praying to be received into com- 
munion. Gelasius required the name of Acacius to be 


taken off the dyptics of Constantinople, and that of Felix to 
be inserted. Euphemius refused to comply with the first part, 
but willingly offered to comply with the second part of 
the requisition. Gelasius, therefore, refused him communion, 
and the schism continued. Meantime Zeno was succeeded in 
the empire by Anastatius I, who at first punished all the 
parties, but subsequently attaching himself to the Eutychians, 
he deposed and banished Euphemius, and had Macedonius 
substituted for him by some bishops, whom he procured 
for the purpose. The schism continued under Macedonius, 
though his faith was orthodox. Anastatius soon found 
means, as he had inclination, and deposed and banished 
Macedonius, as also Flavian of Antioch, and Elias of Jeru- 
salem, for holding to the Council of Chalcedon. St. Sabas 
the Abbot and other holy men remonstrated with the em- 
peror, who desisted a little from his persecution, and a 
profession of faith and petition for communion was- sent to 
Pope Symmachus by most of the Churches, stating that they 
thought it bard to be punished for the fault of Acacius. . 
The Pope answered that the profession was orthodox, but 
that they should acknowledge also the propriety of the 
condemnation of him whose crime they acknowledged. 

Meantime Vitalian, a Scythian, raising a vast body of 
troops, under pretence of defending the Catholic faith, over- 
ran Scythia and Mysia, penetrated through Thrace, and laid 
siege to Constantinople. The emperor promised to reunite 
himself to Rome, and the troops withdrew. He applied to 
Pope Hormisdas, who required the same conditions as his 
predecessors had. The emperor refused, but many of the 
bishops and monasteries acceded and were reconciled. St. 
Sabas and a number of other holy men again applied to 
the emperor, and he appeared to relent, but still delayed. 
He died in the year 518, in the 88th year of his age, 
and was succeeded by Justinus I; and in the year 519, 
through the latter's intervention, the names of Acacius and 
Flavita, Euphemius and Macedonius were taken off the 
dyptics, the faith of Chalcedon restored, and an end put to 
the schism. as 



After the reconciliation with Rome in 519, there was a 
considerable calm in the Church of Constantinople. The 
Emperor Justin I dying in 527, was succeeded by Justinian 
I, his nephew, whose wife Theodora was a Eutychian. 
This emperor had a religious turn and a great propensity 
for legislation, the union of both which qualities in a 
person possessed of his authority made him a torment to 
the Church. He was at the commencement of his reign a 
Roman Catholic, and not only religious but austere and 
mortified. He devoted very little time to his meals and 
to sleep. He frequently fasted two days upon one poor 
meal of wild herbs and other vegetables. He soon began 
the career of theologian and ecclesiastical legislator. He is 
the first prince that we find usurping this power; but his 
earliest 'edicts, though regarding ecclesiastical persons, had 
more the appearance of civil than of ecclesiastical legislation; 
on which account the usurpation did not wear so obnoxious 
an aspect as to require strenuous opposition, especially in 
the unsettled state of that portion of the Church. Besides, 
the object of the edicts was evidently good and necessary, 
and the execution of the law was committed to the patriarch, 
and through him to the metropolitans. He also published 
a profession of faith, which contained the doctrine of the 
Catholic Church, and on this account was pretty generally 
subscribed. He manifested great zeal for the conversion of 
heretics and infidels, and brought many to the external 
profession of the faith, though most persons agree that he 
made more hypocrites than converts; 'and indeed the means 
which he used, viz.: rewards and punishments, were better 
calculated to produce hypocrisy than conviction. Some per- 
sons go so far as to say that he had an interest in tlmsc 
persecutions, for that he put into his private coffers the 
proceeds of the confiscations to which he subjected the 

The Eutychians having caused great trouble at Alexandria 


in Egypt, and even made a schism amongst the Catholics, 
the emperor had a conference between six Catholic and 
six schismatical bishops in his palace, the result of which 
was the reconciliation of one of the schismatical prelates 
and some of the clergy and the exasperation of the others. 
Justinian drew up a formulary of faith anew, and sent it 
to the Pope, John I, a successor of Hormisdas, requesting 
him, as " the head of all the bishops," to confirm it. 
This form contained a clear exposition of the true faith, 
and was approved of by the Pope in 529, and subscribed 
by most of the Oriental bishops. 

Justinian was desirous of reducing the laws of the empire 
into a better form than they were in, and for that purpose 
employed some of the ablest lawyers and chief officers 
of his time. 

In 529, he published "the Code," so called as being 
the book which contained the select constitutions of the 
preceding emperors and his own, which he wished to pre- 
serve in force ; and in 534, a more correct and improved 
selection was set forth. In 533 the best decisions of the 
lawyers upon cases under those constitutions were published 
under the title of Digests, or Pandects, and this was 
immediately followed by four books of Institutes, or intro- 
duction to the study and application of this law and those 
decisions. There was an appendix called Novelise, which 
principally consisted of ecclesiastical laws compiled in like 
manner, and of several laws of his own modern enactment. 
The entire of this forms what is called the Civil or 
Justinian Code. Many of the ecclesiastical regulations were 
never received by the Church, and several that were received 
have been subsequently annulled by contrary usage, by 
disuse, or by repeal, or by the enactments of canons which 
are inconsistent with the entries of the Novelise. Such as 
were of force at any time received their authority not from 
the enactment of Justinian, but from the acceptation of the 
Church. One of the principal topics in this appendix 
regarded the appointment of bishops. Some of the Eastern 


Churches received the discipline there laid down, but very 
few iu the West acted on it. 

The discipline in the Western Churches was? principally 
founded upon the canons of the Apostles, the canons of 
the Councils of Nice, Constantinople, Ephesus, aixl Chal- 
ccdon, which were general, and of the provincial councils 
of Ancyra, the capital of Galatia, in Asia Minor, held in 
314; Gangres, the capital of Paphlagonia, held in 470; 
Neocesarea, in Cappadocia, now called Tocat, held about 
the year 315 ; three Councils of Antioch, in Syria, in 265, 
359, and 452 ; Laodicea, in Phrygia, in the time of Pope 
Damasus, and some others, found in the collection of 
Dionysius the Little, a Scythian monk, who became a priest 
of the Church of Rome, of eminent piety and literary 
ability, and who, in 520, published the first collection of 
canon law, to which, a few years afterwards, he added the 
Decretals of the Popes Siricius, Innocent I, Zozimus, Boni- 
face I, Celestin I, Leo the Great, Gelasius I, and Anasta- 
sius II. This same Dionysius was an excellent arithmetician 
and astronomer ; he renewed the computation of the cycle, 
that of Cyril having nearly expired ; and substituted the 
computation by the Christian era for that of consulate and 
other modes of keeping account. Many persons are of 
opinion, however, that he fell into a mistake, which has 
never been corrected, of four years in the assignment of 
the exact period of the Incarnatioi 

Another remark is also necessary upon the Novelise, and 
indeed upon the whole Justinian code. I have before 
noticed the conduct of Justinian in compelling persons to 
profess a faith to which they were riot attache^. This had 
produced many bad results, amongst which that now adverted 
to was not trivial. Tribonian, a heathen, who pretended 
to be a Christian, was questor, which office is nearly the 
same as a judge in equity. This man, who was one of 
the best lawyers of the age, was by no means as upright 
as he was learned. Procopins and Suidas accuse him of 
having been excessively corrupt and venal. He was one 


of the chief compilers of the Pandects and editors of the 
Novelise, and frequently exhibited in them how little ho 
was influenced by the principles of that religion which his 
interest obliged him to profess against his conviction. 

I have stated before that the Empress Theodora was a 
Eutychian. But like all heresies, the Eutychian was now 
divided into several minor sects, a considerable one of 
which was called that of the Acephalists ; they were obsti- 
nate opponents of the Council of Chalcedon. To this sect 
the empress specially attached herself. Upon the death of 
Epiphanius the patriarch, in 535, she contrived to have 
Anthimus, who was a member of this sect, raised to the 
See of Constantinople from the See of Trebisond, which he 
had previously filled. 

. St. Agepctus, who had succeeded John II in the See of 
Rome, was consecrated on the 4th of May, 535, and at 
the request of Theodotus, King of the Goths in Italy, 
went to Constantinople for the purpose of endeavoring to 
dissuade Justinian from sending an expedition to recover 
Italy. In this he failed; .but the Catholics of the imperial 
city accused their patriarch of heresy. Agapetus refused to 
receive Anthimus into communion, unless he subscribed the 
decrees of Chalcedon, and complained of the irregularity of 
his translation from Trebisond. The emperor and empress 
used their influence in vain with the Pope to allow the 
translation to stand valid. Anthimus returned to his former 
see, and the Pope consecrated Mennas patriarch of the 
imperial city, and excommunicated Anthimus, unless he 
would subscribe the decrees of Chalcedon. This created for 
the Pope the enmity of the empress and all her adherents. 
Agapetus died at Constantinople on April 18, A. D., 530, 
and his body was brought to Rome for interment. 

Upon the death of St. Agapetus, Silverius, son of Pope 
Hormisdas, who had been married previous to his ordination, 
was consecrated on the 8th of June, 536. Belisarius, the 
general of Justinian, having made himself master of Sicily 
in 535, took Naples in 53G ; and marching toward Rome, 


that city was, at the request of Pope Silverius, delivered 
up to him. The empress looked upon this as a good 
opportunity of promoting her views ; wrote to the Pope, 
requiring him either to acknowledge Anthimus Bishop of 
Constantinople, or to proceed to that city and examine his 
cause. Upon the receipt of the letter Silverius remarked 
that the packet would cost him his life. He wrote back 
that he could not betray the cause of the Catholic faith. 

At this time Vigilius, one of the archdeacons of the 
Roman Church, who had .accompanied the late Pope, was 
still at Constantinople. The empress promised to have him 
made Pope, as Rome was now in her power, and to bestow 
upon him a large sum of money, provided he would con- 
demn the Council of Chalcedon, and restore to communion 
Anthimus, who was to be reinstated in Constantinople, and 
Severus and Theodosius, the Eutychian patriarchs of Antioch 
and Alexandria. The conditions were acceded to, and 
Vigilius set off for Home, with a letter to Belisarius, com- 
manding him to banish Silverius and have Vigilius placed 
in his stead. Constantinople had long felt the evils of a 
connection with the State ; and the melancholy review which 
I have already made shows but too evidently the terrible 
effects of this unnatural and demoralizing association. This 
was the first attempt upon the See of Rome by the same 

Belisarius showed great reluctance to execute this com- 
mission ; but his wife, Antonina, who was a confidant and 
favorite of the empress, had an undue ascendancy over him 
and prevailed. "The empress commands me," said the gen- 
eral, " I must obey. He who seeks the ruin of Silverius, 
and not I, shall answer for it at the last day." The Pope 
was accused, to afford a pretext for executing the order, of 
having held a treasonable correspondence with Vitiges, the 
Goth, who was raised to the throne in place of Theodotus, 
who was deposed. To prove this, a letter was produced 
as. from the Pope, inviting Vitiges to attack the city and 
he would open its gates. It was proved that this 


was forged by Marcus, a lawyer, and Julianus, a military 
man, who had been suborned by the empress' friends. 
Belisarius entreated the Pope to comply with the request 
of his mistress, and not place him under the necessity of 
doing what he said was his' duty. The Pope declared that 
he could not abandon his own duty, and that the power 
of rulers could not justify him before God. He then took 
refuge in the Church of St. Sabina. The general contrived 
to get him out of the church, and had him privately 
removed; and Vigilius was consecrated on the 22d of 
November, 537, it being published that Silverius had vol- 
untarily resigned. The good Pope was removed to Palmaria, 
in Lycia, the bishop of which place treated him with the 
kindness due to the Father of the faithful, and obtained 
from the emperor an order for his restoration, unless he 
could be proved guilty of high treason. The executioners 
of the empress' orders contrived his detention in the little 
Island of Palmaria, where he died, some say of ill treat- 
ment, others by the hand of an assassin, on the 20th of 
June, 538. 

Vigilius repented of his crimes, and though theretofore 
an intruder, was now confirmed in his place, and became 
the successor not only to the dignity, but to the firm 
orthodoxy of Silverius, so that the designs of Theodora 
were frustrated. 

Still, however, Justinian could not refrain from interfering 
in the concerns of the Church ; and the opponents of 
Catholicity, amongst whom his wife was the most restless 
and not the least artful, took advantage of this propensity. 
Justinian had a council held under Hennas, in which laws 
were passed anew against the Nestorians and several sects 
of Eutychians ; and the emperor persecuted all who would 
not receive those laws. Changing their appellation, some 
of those proscribed sectaries now took up the doctrines of 
Origen ; and an application was made to the emperor, who 
actually neglected the government of the empire to get 
entangled in theological broils, to have them condemned. 


He drew up a new edict, in which he divided the errors 
of Origen into classes, ranged them under six heads, and 
condemned them. He sent a copy of this to Mennas, 
requiring him to have the bishops of his patriarchate and 
their abbots to subscribe thereto, and informing him that 
he had sent copies to Pope Vigilius and to the other 
patriarchs for the same purpose. The edict contained no 
error, and was received and subscribed. Whilst his majesty 
was thus employed, Chosroes, King of Persia, was ravaging 
his eastern territories with impunity. Nor could the daily 
accounts of successive disasters withdraw him from ecclesi- 
astical legislation. 

Amongst the insincere subscribers to the edict which 
condemned the errors of Origen, one of the principal was 
Theodore Ascidas, visitor or exarch of the New Laura, 
founded by St. Sabas the abbot, in 507. This man after- 
wards contrived to obtain the Bishopric of Csesarea in Cap- 
padocia, and became the rallying point of the Origenist 
Eutychians. He was a man of consummate artifice am} 
unexcelled hypocrisy. Being 011 good terms with Justinian 
and favored by Theodora, he devised a mode of, as he 
thought, covertly destroying the authority of the Council of 
Chalcedon. He told the emperor that if, instead of pub- 
lishing edicts of condemnation against the Acephalists and 
other Eutychians, he would only have the Nestorians who 
were condemned at Ephesus fully put down, all the Euty- 
chians would join the Church. He stated their objection 
to receiving the Council of Chalcedon to be, that in this 
council Nestorianism was tolerated, and that upon this 
sole ground they rejected the council ; that this Nestorian 
doctrine was held by Theodore of Mopsuestia, who was 
treated by the council as orthodox, though it was from 
him Nestorius learned the errors; that it received as ortho- 
dox the letter of Ibas of Edessa to Maris the Persian, 
which was full of Ncstorianism ; and that if those errors 
and their abettors were condemned by an edict, as well as 
the errors of Tlicodoret of Cyrus, in opposition to St. 
Cyril, the Acephalists would subscribe willingly to the edict. 


Justinian wanted but an opportunity to commence new 
work; and now that it was afforded, lie began. The party 
knew that if the edict were once published, Justinian, 
whose pride was excessive, would never retract it. They 
calculated thus to bring discredit upon the Council of 
Chalcedon, and, by the power of the emperor, force the 
Catholics to subscribe contradictions or submit to persecu- 
tion ; but they were disappointed. Justinian published his 
edict condemning the three chapters such was the appella- 
tion of those writings in 545 but it contained only the 
assertion of true doctrine. 


The edict of Justinian on the affair of the three chapters 
caused great disunion in the Church. The Eutychians 
boasted that the Council of Chalcedon was partially con- 
demned thereby, many of the Catholics were of the same 
opinion, and several others could see in the edict only the 
declaration of the Catholic faith, without any reproach flung 
upon the Fathers of Chalcedon. 

This is not the place for me to examine the grounds of 
their opinions. I only mention facts historically. A schism 
between the Catholics was the consequence. Pope Vigilius, 
who was at Constantinople, issued a condemnation of those 
documents styled a judicatum, saving, however, all respect 
for the authority of the Council of Chalcedon. Vigilius 
also placed the Empress Theodora under excommunication, 
and broke off special communication Avith Mennas. 

The judicatum, so far from healing the schism, increased 
it. Vigilius then proposed to assemble a council for the 
examination of the chapter; and, pressed on all sides, 
superceded the judicatum by another decree called the con- 
stitutum, in which under a different formula, the same 
errors were condemned, and a prohibition was issued to 
derogate from the authority of the Fathers, who had preceded 
those times. The emperor and his officers ill-treated the 


Pope in such a manner, as frequently to endanger his life ; 
he was imprisoned to force him to acts against his con- 
science, and kept in a state of durance, which left his acts 
void to that authority to which those of a free agent only 
are entitled. 

Meantime, in the year 553, there was an assembly of 
bishops held, at which very few of the westerns attended. 
The council was opened in the private apartments of the 
cathedral of Constantinople; and after the bishops had pro- 
ceeded for some time in their deliberations, the Pope had 
the constitutem sent to them, and protested against the 
irregularity of the proceedings. However, the sessions con- 
tinued, and the errors of the three chapters were condemned; 
and in the last session the prelates recognized, received, 
and confirmed the acts of the Councils of Nice, Constanti- 
nople, and Chalcedon, and declared their faith to be the 
same as that which was defined in those four councils, and 
excommunicated those who would not receive all their 
decisions. Eutychius, the Patriarch of Constantinople, Apol- 
linaris, of Alexandria, and the bishops, signed the acts of 
the council. 

The emperor still detained Vigilius in the imperial city ; 
but having succeeded in forcing him to confirm the acts of 
this council in about six months, he gave him leave to 
return into Italy. Still the troubles caused by the tyrannical 
interference of Justinian were not appeased. And although 
in the several documents which came from Vigilius, and 
the acts of the synod, there was nothing but the true doc- 
trine of the Church, the irregularity of the proceedings 
threw the whole transaction into discredit, and the miscon- 
structions of the sectaries rendered doubtful the exact 
doctrines which were held. The council was therefore by 
no means generally received. Vigilius died in Sicily, on 
his return to Home. 

Justinian either built or repaired in Constantinople, at his 
own cost, thirty-one churches, amongst which was the great 
church of St. Sophia, which is at this day a splendid 


mosque. He also, in other parts of the empire, built 
thirty churches, ten hospitals, and twenty-three monasteries ; 
but he made an inglorious peace with Chosroes, King of 
Persia, preferring to embroil himself and his empire in the 
theological disquisitions to discharging his duty by protect- 
ing his people from the ravages of enemies, and securing 
peace and justice for them in their temporal concerns, 
which had been specially entrusted to his care. This 
Emperor, in his latter years, fell into the heresy of the 
Incorruptibles, and after having been a persecutor for doc- 
trine, a torment to the Church, a defender of faith, and a 
violator of discipline, he died out of the pale of that 
Church, in the year 556, having latterly begun to persecute 
those who held the Catholic faith, for not having followed 
him in his errors ; amongst whom was Eutychius, the 
patriarch of the imperial city. 

His successor was Justin II, who held the Catholic foith, 
and recalled all the Catholic prelates who had been banished 
by his uncle, with the exception of Eutychius. But though 
his doctrine was orthodox, his morality was corrupt. He 
died in 578, and was succeeded by Tiberius Constantine, 
who recalled the patriarch from Pontus, where he had 
spent twelve years in exile. St. Gregory the Great> who 
was afterwards Pope, was at this time nuncio from Pope 
Pelagius II, in the imperial city, and was on the most inti- 
mate terms with the emperor and his successor. By the 
exertions of the prelates, who were now free to use their 
best efforts, heresy and schism disappeared in several parts. 
The patriarch taught that by the resurrection the bodies 
would be impalpable; but upon a conversation with the 
nuncio, he was convinced of his error and openly cor- 
rected it. 

After a reign of four years, Tiberius died, and was 
succeeded by Maurice, in 582. Gregory was soon afterwards 
recalled to Rome, and in 590 succeeded Pelagius in the 
pontificate. At the close of this century, John the Faster, 
a man of extraordinary austerity of life, but also of stern 


manners, was in the See of Constantinople. He went in 
his progress a step farther than any of his predecessors, 
and took the title of Universal Bishop. Gregory wrote to 
reprove him for the presumption, requiring him to desist 
from using so equivocal a phrase, which had never been 
used by any bishop. Gregory, who knew well the history 
of the Constantinopolitan aggressions, and the ambition of 
the emperors to elevate the authority of that see, as well 
as the flattery of the provincial prelates, justly thought it 
would be giving his sanction to a principle of usurpation, 
to permit this to pass unnoticed. John answered that he 
did not assume the title as claiming jurisdiction over all 
the Churches, but over a great many. Gregory, however, 
insisted upon the title being altogether disused, which 
John for a time complied with. 

The Emperor Maurice was extremely avaricious. This 
unfortunate passion caused him to refuse the payment of 
a small ransom demanded by the Khan of the Avari, for 
the release of ten thousand prisoners whom he had taken. 
This barbarian put them to death, and Maurice, looking 
upon himself as their murderer, was overwhelmed with 
grief. However, untaught by this, he ordered his troops 
into winter quarters beyond the Danube, that he might 
support them at less expense in an enemy's country. After 
the massacre of the prisoners, the emperor frequently prayed 
that God might rather punish him in this life than in the 
next. His prayer appears to have been heard and granted. 

The troops beyond the Danube, displeased at their hard 
treatment, revolted, and chose Phocas, exarch of the centu- 
rions, as their leader, crossed the Danube, and came 
to Constantinople, where they proclaimed Phocas emperor. 
Maurice fled from the city. Many persons stating that 
Phocas could riot reign whilst Maurice lived, a party was 
sent after the unfortunate fugitive, who was taken with his 
wife and eight children, and in the vicinity of Chalccdon 
they were deliberately murdered before his face, the unhappy 
father exclaiming frequently that verse of the 118th Psalm, 


"Thou art just, O Lord, and Thy judgments are equitable." 
The unhappy monarch himself was slain last ; and Phocas 
thus was elevated upon a blood-stained throne. He was 
crowned by Cyriacus, the patriarch, who still assumed the 
title of Universal Bishop. 

St. Gregory the Great died in 604, and was succeeded 
by Sabinianus, whose successor was Boniface III, who, 
during his short pontificate, procured an order from Phocas 
to the imperial city, forbidding them to use the obnoxious 
title which John the Faster had attempted to establish and 
Cyriacus had assumed. . . 

Phocas was deposed and put to death by Heraclius in 
610, during the occupation of the See of Constantinople by 
Scgius. In the year 625, Chosroes, King of Persia, who 
still ravaged Judea and the eastern provinces, required as 
a condition for peace, which Heraclius sought, the apostacy 
of the empire from Christianity and the adoption of the 
religion of the Persians. Heraclius rejected the proposal 
and prepared for vigorous operations ; and it is fit here 
to remark, that it was upon this occasion the Turks, who 
were a savage tribe in the northwest of Asia, were brought 
down by Heraclius into Thrace ; and about this period 
also Mahomet began his progress in Arabia. 


I have made considerable progress in exhibiting the rev- 
olutions of religion in 'this unfortunate country; but the 
events thicken as I proceed ; and as my object at present 
is not to give a detailed history of religion, but a sufficient 
sketch to enable my readers generally to know the manner 
in which each portion of the Church came to its present 
situation, I shall not find it necessary to dwell so much 
in detail upon the subsequent history of Turkey or Greece. 
In my account of Russia, I showed how the faith was 
introduced to the "southern part of that nation ; and as the 
northern part of what is at present Turkey in Europe and 


the southern part of Russia were then occupied by the 
same hordes, the history of one is the history of the 
other. I shall still, therefore, confine myself to the history 
of Thrace and Greece. 

Heraclius, having determined upon carrying on the war 
vigorously against Chosroes, King of Persia, was not much 
occupied with theology at first. However, the various sec- 
taries which now arose produced perpetual contention and 
theological disputes, and the speculative Greeks were ever 
and ever making new distinctions and inventing new subtle- 
ties. The original errors having been with respect to 
the nature of our blessed Redeemer, every particle, if I 
may use an expression of that nature, was subjected to 
their examination. A new contest no~v arose. 

Sergius, Archbishop of Constantinople, was a disguised 
Eutychian, and anxious covertly to introduce his doctrines, 
he began with Heraclius. His imperial pupil, charmed 'with 
the care of his new preceptor and gratified at the compli- 
ments paid to his progress in the theological erudition, 
adopted the dictates of the archbishop as the results of 
his own convictions. Nor was Heraclius the only pupil of 
the plotting prelate. Many others were infected with the 
new opinions, which as yet had not been brought to full 

Eutychianism consisted in the doctrine of the singleness 
of the Redeemer's nature. This doctrine had been con- 
demned. Of course, to teach it openly would insure con- 
demnation. But if there was only a single will, there 
was of course in the Redeemer only a single rational nature. 
Could the doctrine of this single will be covertly estab- 
lished, the singleness of nature would be thus taught. This 
first doctrine had not yet been examined nor formerly pro- 
scribed, and Sergius inculcated that in Christ there was 
but ono will, and thus he prepared the way for the intro- 
duction of Eutychianism. 

Athanasius, Patriarch of the Jacobites, who were a great 
body of Eutychians, having been informed by Sergius of 


the dispositions of Heraclius, went to meet his majesty at 
Hierapolis, and informed him that he and his people were 
anxious for a reunion with the Church, 'and that he would 
make such a profession of faith as would satisfy the Patri- 
arch of Constantinople, and offered to content himself with 
expression that in Christ there was only one will. Herac- 
lius, anxious for this union, embraced the proposition joy- 
fully, and declared that he would take every step in his 
power to have Athanasius raised to the See of Antioch. 

Cyrus, Bishop of Phasis, was another of the conspirators 
who, under the pretext of union, peace and charity, came 
to offer his services for the harmony of the faithful ; and 
it was contrived that he obtained the See of Alexandria. 
Thus, without any noise, the principal sees of the East 
were, through the cunning of Sergius, in the power of 
Monothelites. Sophronius, a Syrian monk, was the first 
who exposed the heresy. He besought the Patriarchs of 
Alexandria and Constantinople in vain. They drew up a 
form to be subscribed by all who desired union with the 
Church. It consisted of nine articles ; and the seventh 
only, which contained the doctrine of Monotheletism, was 
erroneous. The Eutychians ran in crowds to sign it, and 
the emperor was gratified. 

The next step was to guard against the condemnation of 
Rome. For this purpose Sergius wrote to Pope Honorius 
that a most brilliant prospect was now before them of 
reuniting to the Church all the contending sects of the 
East ; that the Patriarch of Alexandria had been eminently 
successful ; that crowds were every day flocking in to 
reunite themselves ; and that no obstacle was raised but 
by the unauthorized interference of the monk Sophronius, 
who was creating difficulties by discussing a new question 
upon which the Scriptures contained nothing, and which 
the councils had never even entertained, and which, though 
many of the Fathers had touched upon, still was more a 
question for grammarians than for bishops ; and that, as 
all the success of their exertions depended upon peace, it 


was requested that Honorius would command silence upon 
this new topic. The artifice succeeded; and the Pope, thus 
deceived, wrote a 'letter desiring that there should be no 
disputes about words, and that Sophronius should not 
trouble the Patriarch of Alexandria. 1 Sophronius was mean- 
time raised to the See of Jerusalem, and held a council 
in which Monotheletism was condemned. He wrote to 
Honorius, and in return the Pope sent a second letter, in 
which he repeated his desire of silence upon the subject. 
Sophronius, aware that there must have been some imposi- 
tion practiced upon the Holy See, selected Stephen, Bishop 
of Doria, upon whom he placed the greatest reliance, and 
taking him to Mount Calvary, bound him solemnly, as he 
would account to that Saviour who there shed His blood, 
to go to Rome and to lay the facts distinctly before the 
Pope, and gave him upwards of six hundred passages of 
the Fathers, which clearly contained the doctrines of two 
wills, the human and the divine, together with Scriptural 
texts. The Monothelites did all they could to intercept 
the holy bishop ; but though they waylaid him in a variety 
of places, he arrived safely in Home, but found Honorius 
had died. 

Meantime Sergius composed a document, which Heraclius 
published under the title of Ecthesis, or an explanation, 
in 639. The doctrines of the Trinity and of the Incarna- 
tion are clearly stated in Catholic terms in this document ; 
but there is a passage regarding the unity of will in the 
Redeemer, which is susceptible of an explanation in either 
sense. This document caused great commotion. Severinus 
was the immediate successor of Honorius ; but dying after 
ti pontificate of four months, he was succeeded by John 
IV, who, learning the true state of the question from the 
Bishop of Doria, condemned the Ecthesis in 640. Heraclius 
thereupon revoked the document, and informed the Pope 
that it had been drawn up by Sergius. 

'This does not touch tho infallibility of tho Pope, since he was here acting 
not in tho formal character of Pastor Etcrnua. 


Jerusalem was taken by the Mussulmen, under the 
Caliph Omar, in 638; and in the following year, on the 
llth of March, 639, St. Sophronius died. The Emperor 
Heraelius was succeeded in 641 by Constantine, who, after 
a reign of more than three months, made way for Hera- 
cleonas, and he in six months was succeeded by the Em- 
peror Cons tans, in the same year 641. 

Sergius, Bishop of Constantinople, died in 638, and was 
succeeded by Pyrrhus, a Monothelite. This prelate, having 
joined with Martina and Heracleonas in their wicked 
poisoning of Constantine and the usurpation of Heracleonas, 
fled from the city after the punishment of the empress and 
the usurper. Paul, another Monothelite, occupied the See 
of Constantinople ; and he prevailed upon Constans, the 
emperor, in 648, to publish his edict called the Type, 
imposing silence on the Catholics and the Monothelites. 
The Type was condemned by Pope Theodore in the same 
year. Pyrrhus, having passed from Africa to Rome, 
retracted his errors, and was received into communion by 
the Pope. Thence he passed to Ravenna, where, at the 
instigation of the exarch Olympius, he relapsed into his 
errors, in the expectation of being restored to the favor of 
the emperor ; and Paul dying in 655, he again got into the 
see of the imperial city. Many of the best, bravest, and 
wisest men of the empire fell victims to the relentless 
persecution of the Monothelites : amongst them was the 
holy Pope Martin, who, after severe torture in Constan- 
tinople, died of want and ill-treatment, in exile in the 

Constans dying in 668, was succeeded by his son, Con- 
stantiue Pogonatus, who was a Catholic. He requested the 
Pope Donus to assemble a council ; but that pontiff, in 
688, was succeeded by Agatho, who complied with the 
emperor's request, and sent his legate to preside at the 
synod, which assembled in Constantinople in the month of 
November, 680. Theodore, a Monothelite, had succeeded 
Pyrrhus in the see of that city; and he having been 



deposed, his place was filled by George, a Catholic. In 
this council the Monothelite heresy was condemned, as were 
its abettors ; and amongst them Honorius the Pope had his 
memory censured for his criminal silence and neglect of 
opposing the progress of heresy. Pope Agatho dying in 
Rome before the acts of the council reached him, its canons 
were confirmed by his successor, Leo II. This is the third 
Council of Constantinople and the sixth general council. 


I FEAR exceedingly that a pure republican form of gov- 
ernment cannot be established by this valorous people ; the 
miscalled Holy Alliance cannot bear a free government to 
exist within the sphere of its action. 1 I fear that the only 
hope of patriotic and brave Greece must rest on the posi- 
tion advanced by some of her agents even to receive a 
king from some reigning house in Europe. This seems to 
be the alternative between two evils ; to choose Egyptian 
bondage or European monarchy, and we can hardly blame 
this suffering people for preferring the latter as the less 
of the two evils. The friend of Greece and humanity must 
shed a tear of sympathy over the uncertain and dangerous 
condition in which Greece now stands, according to the 
latest and best authenticated accounts from Europe. 

Having gone thus far into the civil concerns of Greece, 
let us see a little of the religious history of this people. 
For the first eight centuries of Christianity, the Greek or 
Eastern Church was in full communion with the Western 
or Latin Church, and under the jurisdiction and supremacy 
of the Bishop of Home, successor to St. Peter, and visible 
head of the Church of Christ on earth. During this period 
several errors were broached in the East. Much of the 

i These feara were confirmed. 


Platonic and Pagan philosophy existed among the Greek 
Christians, and by endeavoring to incorporate or reconcile 
these principles with the principles of the Gospel, several 
errors in religion were introduced. In order to correct 
these errors and to establish the true principles of the 
Gospel, general councils of the Church were from time to 
time convened : and so we perceive that the first eight 
general councils were held in the East. 

The first was held at Nice, in 325, regarding the divinity 
of Christ, and condemning the Arian heresy. The second at 
Constantinople, in 381, regarding the divinity of the Holy 
Ghost, and condemning the heresy of the Semi-Arians, the 
Sabellians, and the Macedonians. The third at Ephesus, in 
431, against the Nestorians, showing that there was only 
one person in Christ, and that the Blessed Virgin is the 
Mother of God. The fourth at Chalcedon, in 451, against 
the Eutychians, showing that there were two natures in Christ. 
The fifth at Constantinople, in 553, respecting the errors of 
Origen and the three chapters. The sixth at Constantinople, 
in 680, against the Monothelites, proving that there were two 
wills and operations in Christ. The seventh at Nice, in 787, 
condemning the Iconoclasts (image-breakers), and establishing 
the doctrine of proper respect to sacred images. The eighth 
at Constantinople, in 8G9, against the schism of Photius. This 
proud and usurping prelate gave origin to the unfortunate 
separation of the Greek from the Catholic Church. Until 
this period both Churches were under one head, and though 
the Eastern Church lost many members by the above- 
named heresies, the great body were still Catholic, and in 
full communion with the Catholic Apostolic Church of Rome. 
One fact is very striking: that though the several sepa- 
ratists of the Eastern Church differ from the Catholic 
Church, yet they agree with her in all those points on 
which Protestants differ from the Catholic doctrine. 

The history of Photius, the remarkable schismatic, must 
be examined. Bardas, the uncle of the young Emperor 
Michael, who then governed the Eastern Empire, gave great 


scandal by his profligate mode of living. Ignatius, Patri- 
arch of Constantinople, and son of Emperor Michael le 
Begue, predecessor of Leo the Armenian, felt it his duty 
to tell this profligate prince how injurious his example was 
to Christianity. He requested of him to look at least to 
his own soul ; but this good advice only inflamed the pas- 
sion of the royal delinquent. This public sinner presented 
himself to partake of the Eucharist on the Festival of 
Pentecost; the patriarch refused him the Holy Communion. 
Bardas vowed vengeance, and .formed a determination to 
ruin him in the eyes of the Emperor. * In three days after 
a deputation was sent to Ignatius, requiring of him to 
resign his see. He resisted all promises and threats. The 
emperor disregarding the canons of the Church, appointed 
Photius patriarch. This wicked man possessed great accom- 
plishments, of mind and body, but his unbounded ambition 
and finished hypocrisy tarnished the whole. Having consid- 
erable property, he possessed the means of making many 
supporters ; by his assiduous application to literature he 
acquired a great reputation ; in ecclesiastical learning he 
made considerable proficiency. Having secured the patron- 
age of Bardas, he paved the way to his nomination to the 
patriarchate. He was then a layman ; but he contrived to 
get himself through the several orders to episcopacy in six 
days ! At his consecration he promised to hold communion 
with Ignatius, and in less than two months he declared 
vengeance against him and all his communion. Ignatius 
was hurried from prison to prison and most cruelly treated. 
Every means was employed to force from him a resigna- 
tion of his sec. But Photius, impatient of delay, assembled 
a sham council, with the support of the emperor, and 
declared Ignatius deposed. He also procured the deposition 
of all the bishops who remained firm to Ignatius ; they were 
cast into prison, and Ignatius was exiled to the Isle of Les- 
bos. In the meantime Photius sent a delegation to Home to 
have his own title confirmed, and the deposition of Igna- 
tius ratified, on the pretence that Ignatius, through infirmity, 


was no longer able to discharge the duties of his office. 
Pope Nicholas was on his guard ; he sent two legates to 
Constantinople to get a correct statement of the case. The 
legates were not permitted to inquire into the facts, and 
were told that if they did not report favorably for Pho- 
tius they would be sent into cruel exile. After long resist- 
ance they yielded to the emperor's will. Ignatius was 
removed to the Isle of Terebintius, where he suffered much ; 
thence called to assist at a council formed in order to 
forward the views of Photius. Ignatius intending to assist 
in his patriarchal robes, was commanded by the emperor 
to come in the garb of a simple monk ; he obeyed, and 
came to the council, where the emperor attended ; pressed 
to give in his resignation, and not yielding, he was sent 
away : in ten days after he was forced to return, for he 
declared his intention not to be present at such a council, 
which was held in violation of all the rules of the Church. 
False charges were made against Ignatius ; it was said that 
he had been consecrated without an electoral decree ; a 
sentence of deposition was pronounced against him ; he was 
divested of the pallium and of his episcopal robes and was 
declared unworthy of the priesthood. Photius caused him 
to be shut up in the vault of Constantine Copronymus. 
He was given in charge to three cruel guards, who stripped 
him of his clothes and placed him on a cold flag during 
the rigors of the winter season. Left for eight days with- 
out food or repose, he was put into a marble tomb, and 
bound therein, and left a whole night in this cruel pos- 
ture ; unbound the next day, and his hand forcibly put to 
sign a deed, drawn up by Photius, to the following pur- 
port : " I, Ignatius, the unworthy Patriarch of Constanti- 
nople, declare that I have been raised to this sec without 
an electoral decree, and that I have tyrannically governed 
the same." This pretended declaration was presented to the 
emperor, and Ignatius was set at liberty. The illustrious 
prelate then sent to Rome a memorial signed by the metro- 
politans, fifty bishops, and many priests ; he related what 
he had suffered and prayed for redress. 


Photius, not yet satisfied, advised the emperor to make 
Ignatius read aloud in the Church of the Apostles, at Con- 
stantinople, his act of resignation, and to cause his hand 
to be cut off and his eyes plucked out. Ignatius being 
informed of the whole, escaped this new persecution by 
flight. In the garb of a slave he retreated by night from 
the city, and fled to the Isle of Propontide. He suffered 
much in his flight, and was closely sought for by Photius. 

In the meantime Photius wrote hypocritical letters to 
Pope Nicholas, saying: "When I reflect on the great duties 
of the episcopal station, and on the weakness of man, and 
on my own in particular, I am surprised that any one 
could be found to assume such serious obligations. I can- 
not express my regret on beholding myself invested with 
such a burden. My predecessor having resigned his see, 
the clergy, the metropolitans, and especially the emperor, 
full of kindness towards others, but of cruelty toward me, 
and regardless of my opposition, have laid the episcopal 
charge on my shoulders. Thus, in spite of my tears and 
regrets, they have forced me into the episcopacy." Con- 
scious of hifi own imposture, he exhibited forged letters 
from the Pope, which he himself had penned. The forgery 
was discovered, but he contrived to evade the deserved 
pmiishmcnt. Photius was equally criminal in concealing 
t!ie scandals of the Emperor Michael. This profligate prince 
laughed at all the ceremonies and doctrines of Christianity. 

Pope Nicholas being duly informed of what passed at 
Constantinople, held a council and condemned Photius as 
a usurper. He wrote to Constantinople, saying that lie 
would never hold communion with Photius, unless lie 
renounced his usurped see. 

Cscsar Bardas met a fatal end, and Photius lost his 
chief supporter. Michael suspecting Bardas, got him torn 
to pieces. Photius, yielding to the times, strongly inveighed 
against Bardas, and endeavored to merit the good graces 
of Michael. Many having retired from the communion of 
Photius, on receiving the papal mandate, he excited a vio- 


lent persecution against them. He deprived some of their 
dignities others of their property, and sent others into 
exile. On seeing that the Pope cut him off from his 
communion, he excommunicated the Pope in turn. To give 
a coloring to his proceedings, he held what he called a 
general council, where the emperor presided, and some 
legates from the East. False charges and false witnesses 
were produced against Pope Nicholas. Photius pretended 
to take the part of the Pope, and said he ought not to 
be condemned in his absence. The members of the council 
opposed his feigned opposition, and a sentence of deposition 
was pronounced against the Pope. He sent the acts of the 
council to the Roman Emperor, Lewis, and begged of 
him to banish Pope Nicholas, as being condemned by a 
general council. 

This proceeding, of course, broke off all communion 
between the See of Rome and Photius ; but to support 
his usurpation, Photius wrote a circular to the Eastern 
bishops, accusing the Latin Church of errors. Behold the 
prototype of Martin Luther. The accusation was, that the 
Roman Church held that the Holy Ghost "proceeded not 
only from the Father, but from the Son." To the present 
day, this is the chief point on doctrinal matters between 
the Greek schismatics and the Catholic Church. 

Pope Nicholas being informed of this charge, wrote a 
pastoral letter on the unjust proceedings of the Greek 
emperor, and refuted the calumnies advatfeed against the 
Church of Rome. 

The Emperor Michael still proceeded in his iniquitous 
career. AVishing to assassinate Basilius in a chase, he was 
himself killed by his own guards in a state of intoxication, 
and Basilius was proclaimed emperor. On the next day 
Photius was banished and Ignatius recalled from his exile. 
Basilius, with the advice of Ignatius, wrote to Pope Adrian 
to assemble a general council, in order to heal the wounds 
inflicted on the Church by the schism of Photius. The 
Pope sent three legates to Constantinople, where they were 


received with every mark of respect. The emperor paid 
them due honors and requested of them to exert all their 
influence to establish a reunion of the Churches. 


Pope Adrian, having duly convened a general council to 
restore peace to the Greek Church, the council was accord- 
ingly opened on the 5th of October, 869, in the Church 
of St. Sophia, at Constantinople. The Pope's legates, to 
whom was assigned the first place, presented their creden- 
tials to the Emperor Basilius or Basil, by whom they were 
received with marks of profound respect; the Patriarch 
Ignatius took his seat next to the Pope's legates, then the 
legates from the patriarchs of Antioch and Jerusalem. The 
bishops who suffered persecution from Photius were then 
introduced. At the close of the first session, the Pope's 
letter was read to the council. In the next session, those 
priests and bishops, who yielded to the violence or persua- 
sion of Photius, presented themselves, and explained the 
rigorous treatment employed by Photius in order to bring 
them over to his usurpation. They said they had been 
chained, cast into hideous dungeons, and supplied with the 
most offensive food ; they, however, expressed their sorrow 
for having fallen. 

By order of the legates, Photius attended at the fifth 
session ; on his appearance, they exclaimed : " Is this Pho- 
tius who has caused so much trouble in the Church?" 
Photius affected a profound silence, quoted some texts of 
Scripture, false in their application and offensive to the 
council; he persisted in his silence was required to yield 
to the voice of the council answered by reciting more 
texts of Scripture, which did not bear on the question, 
and which only exposed his hypocrisy. 

The Emperor attended at the sixth session ; the bishops 
favorable to Photius were present, and on being convinced 
of their error, the greater part renounced the schism. 


Photius was again exhorted in the seventh to submit. He 
replied that he had no answer to make to calumny. In 
the eighth session, the imposition and foul means prac- 
ticed by Photius, in order to create and continue the 
schism, were investigated and fully detected. Many of the 
image-breakers abjured their error. In the ninth session, 
penance had been imposed on the false witnesses who were 
procured against Ignatius. When the partizans and accom- 
plices in crime of the Emperor Michael were arraigned for 
their wicked proceedings, they advanced as an excuse the 
threats and menaces of that prince. 

At the tenth and last session, the emperor, with his 
son, Constantine, attended ; the three ambassadors from 
Lewis, Emperor of Italy and France, and those from 
Michael, King of Bulgaria, were present, and about one 
hundred bishops. They approved of the seven general 
ouncils confirmed the sentence of Popes Nicholas and 
Adrian against Photius. Twenty-seven canons of discipline 
were drawn up, and a confession of faith against the errors 
of the " Monothelites and Iconoclasts." 

The pride of Photius would not submit; for the space 
of eight years, which he passed in exile, he was devising 
means for his restoration. He endeavored, by a singular 
stratagem, to secure the favor of the Emperor Basil. He 
framed a genealogy, in which he flattered the pride of the 
prince by tracing his origin to Tiridades, King of Armenia, 
and enriched this genealogy with a prophecy "that the reign 
of Basil would be more illustrious than any of his pre- 
decessors." Photius transcribed this fictitious narrative on 
three old parchments, and enveloped them in a moth-eaten 
cover and thus couched sent them to Theophanes, the 
emperor's secretary, with whom he had previously com- 
pounded on the subject. 

Theophanes showed this roll to the emperor as being 
the oldest and most curious manuscript in the library, and 
said that nobody was able to read or explain it but Pho- 
tius. Basil, ignorant of the deception, yielded to the impulse 


of vanity, recalled Photius, received him kindly, and gave 
him free access to his presence. 

Ignatius fell dangerously ill in the 80th year of his age. 
On the 24th of October, while the divine office was reciting 
fit midnight, Ignatius inquired whose feast the Church 
celebrated on the next day; he was told that of St. James, 
called the brother of our Lord; he answered, that is my 
" patron" saint, and having given his benediction to his 
clergy, he slept in the Lord. The Greek and Latin 
Churciies honor h : s memory on the day of his death. 

Photius finding Ignatius the great obstacle to his ambi- 
tious views no more, assumed again the patriarchal chair, 
and persecuted the friends and adherents of Ignatius, and 
all in his communion. He gained over some by promises, 
others by threats, and those who remained faithful he put 
to death. He gained over the two legates sent by Pope 
John to Constantinople, regarding some ecclesiastical mat- 
ters in Bulgaria. He sent delegates to Rome with insidious 
letters, in order to have himself recognized as the legiti- 
mate Patriarch of Constantinople. He convened a council, 
which he endeavored to render as numerous and as respect- 
able as he could. He contrived to make it appear that 
the Pope recognized him as a brother patriarch. He was 
then extolled as a prodigy of learning, moderation, and 
piety. He induced the Roman legates to declare him legiti- 
mate patriarch, and to condemn the proceedings of the 
eighth general council. The Emperor Basil assisted at the 
sixth session of this sham council, where they rescinded that 
article of the general council of Constantinople, which decreed 
that "the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the 

Yet iniquity could not prevail ; Pope John being 
informed that Photius did not demand pardon for his past 
transgressions, and that he endeavored to reverse the sentence 
declared against him by a general council, he (the Pope) 
rejected him and his false council. The succeeding Pontiffs, 
Martin, Adrian III, and Stephen V, equally condemned the 
proceedings of Photius. 


The Emperor Basil died in 886, and was succeeded by 
Leo VI, surnaraed the Philosopher, who Avas fully aware 
of the iniquitous and schismatical acts of Photius. The 
great schismatic was exiled to the monastery of the 
Armenians, where he soon finished his evil career. Peace 
and unity were then restored to the Greek Church. 

I have endeavored to compress these facts into as narrow 
limits as possible, in order not to weary some of my 
readers who appear to have a great aversion to lengthened 
discussions. Unfortunately we have no good ecclesiastical 
history in the English language. 1 The histories in Latin 
and French are rather voluminous, and hence it is no easy 
matter to collect a good account of Church concerns in a 
few pages. It would be much easier to give copious 
extracts than succinct narratives on such matters, but my 
time and labor are for the public and so I shall spare no 
pains to satisfy them. 


In the death of Photius the schismatics lost their head 
and chief support : the majority of the people returned to 
Catholic ministry and truth. The letters and works of 
Photius being in considerable circulation kept alive the 
spirit of disobedience to the mother Church. Though the 
materials for fresh schism were for a considerable time ready 
to burst forth into open insubordination, yet it was not 
till the year 1050 that the brand of discord was violently 
hurled into the bosom of the Church by Michael Cerullarius, 
Patriarch of Constantinople, and a bold proselyte to the 
views of Photius. Many of the Greek bishops were anxious 
for some occasion of renewing the schism, and of finding 
some resolute champion in their cause. The patriarch of 
Constantinople had lately assumed the title of Universal 
Bishop, knowing well that such a step would not pass 
unnoticed by the Pope. Italy was at this period in a 

1 Hefelo's History, now being translated, is such a work, though it bears only on 
tho fir^t a^s. 


divided condition, and the seat of Avar and desolation, and 
from the intrigue and influence of some corrupt chieftains 
and princes, unworthy men were raised to the papal chair, 
which they dishonored by their irregular lives, and which 
brought scandal on the Church, and sunk the papal authority 
in the esteem of the Greek Church. 

During this state of affairs, Michael Cerullarius wrote a 
letter to one of the Latin bishops, which at once revived 
and propagated the old schism. He attempted to prove to 
all the Latin bishops, that Christ, after having celebrated 
the ancient Paseh in Azymes or unleavened bread, instituted 
the pasch or Eucharistic Sacrifice of the new law, in 
leavened bread, and hence Cerullarius charged the Latin 
Church with error ; he also accused the Latins for shaving 
their beards, for fasting on Saturdays, for eating strangled 
meat, and for inserting the word " filioque, from the Son," 
in the Nicene Creed, and thereby expressing their belief of 
the Holy Ghost proceeding from the Father and from the 
Son. He brought other charges equally false and frivolous 
against the Church, in that the kiss of peace was given at 
Mass before the Communion, that alleluiah was not sung in 
Lent, and that due respect was not paid to the memory 
and relics of the saints ; he concluded by saying that as 
soon as the Latin Church would correct these errors, he 
would send other important communications. This at once 
put the schism beyond the hope of a reconciliation. 

Cardinal Humbert, having read this letter, translated it 
into Latin, and fient a copy of it to Pope Leo IX. The 
Pope replied in a long letter, wherein he first complained 
of the conduct of those who were endeavoring to dis- 
turb the peace of the Church ; he then added : " Is the 
Church of Rome, after the lapse of more than one 
thousand years since the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
now to begin to learn how to celebrate the ' institution ' of 
the last- supper? Are the instructions of the Apostles 
Peter and Paul, then of no use?" The conclusion 
of this letter was worthy of the common Father and 


of Rome. " Let the Greeks follow the traditions of their 
fathers. We know that the difference of customs, according 
to times and nations, is not injurious to salvation, pro- 
vided we be united in faith and charity." 

In the meantime the Emperor Constantine Monourachus, 
wishing, through political motives, to keep in with the 
Pope, wrote him a letter in which he expressed his 
anxiety to support the union of both Churches, and he 
induced Cerullarius to write to the same effect. On receiv- 
ing these letters, Leo replied, and sent three legates, of 
whom Cardinal Humbert was the chief. In the letter to 
Cerullarius the Pope styled him merely Bishop of Con- 
stantinople, which was not conducive to reconcile one to 
the Catholic Church, who seemed so desirous of .schism. 
The legates were respectfully received by the emperor, and 
Cardinal Humbert replied to the letter of Cerullarius, in 
which he fully vindicated the Roman Catholic Church from 
the charges of Cerullarius. He showed that Jesus Christ 
celebrated the Eucharist in unleavened bread, and supported 
with the great body of commentators that Christ celebrated 
the legal Pasch, which could not be celebrated with any 
other but unleavened bread. 

This answer made no impression on Cerullarius ; he 
refused to see or communicate with the legates. 

They indignantly expressed their displeasure at his con- 
duct ; perhaps they went too far. They went to the Church 
of St. Sophia and laid on the altar a sentence of excom- 
munication against Cerullarius in presence of his clergy and 
flock ; they then retired, and shook the dust from off their 
feet, exclaiming : " May God behold him and judge him." 
The form of excommunication ended with these words : 
" By authority of the blessed Trinity, of the Apostolic See, 
of. the seven general councils of the Catholic Church, we 
subscribe to the sentence of excommunication pronounced 
by the Pope, and say, let Michael Cerullarius, the pre- 
tended patriarch, guilty of many crimes, and Leo, Bishop 
of Arcadia, and all their followers, be separated from the 


Church until they be converted and do penance. Amen, 
Amen, Amen." They also forbade the laity of Constanti- 
nople to receive the Holy Communion from any clergyman 
who attributed errors to the Latin Church. Finally, they 
received the passport from the emperor and some presents 
for the Pope. Such a proceeding increased the schism 
instead of subduing it. Cerullarius, highly incensed at this 
act, issued a counter-decree : this decree bore his name and 
those of fourteen metropolitans, and declared that these 
legates, in attempting to corrupt the holy doctrine, were 
condemned by the emperor. 

The Greeks after this could not bear the idea of a 
reconciliation with the Latin Church. They mutually encour- 
aged each other to support the schism. They supposed that 
the hasty proceedings of the legates fully justified them, 
and erroneously attributed the faults of three individuals 
to the whole body of the Catholic Church. This is a 
common way of acting Avith all separatists. The schism 
then considerably extended its pestilential influence. Cities 
and provinces were soon involved in the vortex, and it 
came at last to such a pitch that the Greeks looked with 
more indignation on the members of the Latin Church 
than they did on the very pagans. Such are the evil effects 
of passion, disappointment, and the violation of Christian 
unity. \Ve see to the present day the same melancholy 
effects produced by similar feelings. Would to God that 
we all had but " one heart and one spirit," like the primi- 
tive Christians! May the God of peace and charity infuse 
into us His Holy Spirit of unity! 



THERE is a monthly magazine called the Christian Advo- 
cate, published in Philadelphia, by A. Finley, in the sixty- 
seventh number of which, for July, 1828, is found the 
following preface to a dissertation: 

""We are indebted to a clerical brother, to whom we 
lent a few numbers of the 'Archives du Christianisme/ 
for the following translation. It will convey useful infor- 
mation to many of our readers, and we earnestly recom- 
mend to the serious consideration of all ths remarks of 
the translator at the close. While the Romanists are pur- 
suing an organized system to diffuse their pernicious errors 
in our country, it does seem to us that some systematic, 
endeavors should bo employed to counteract them." 

This dissertation and its appendages are published to the- 
American people as a deliberate attack upon what the 
writer is pleased to call the Romanists, that is, the Roman 
Catholics, to whose body I have the honor and happiness 
of belonging. I am not aware of any organized system 
amongst us, save that which is common to all our brethren 
of other denominations : the system of having our public 
churches and our regular ministry. If a line of distinction 
were to bo drawn between the Roman Catholic and the 
Protestant Churches of the United States, upon tho point 
of "organized system," I am of opinion t'mt, owing to 
circumstances which I am in charity bouiivl to suppose 
beyond the control of those with whom- the remedy lies, 
the former is manifestly the worst organized Church in 
our States ; l and it is notoriously defective in the essential 

1 This was written A. D. 1829, sinoi wh3n the principal defects lamented by 
the writer have been supplied; this langruasre therefore cannot correctly be applied 
to the Catholic Church of the Unitel States as it now exists. 



points of system, which are community of counsel and 
unity of action. If irony and sarcasm were intended by 
the writer, I lament that he has had the cause afforded 
for his display; yet still he might have pitied our weak- 
ness, and if our failure was desirable, he might have con- 
tinued satisfied that until we shall be able, not to mend 
our system but to supply its want and to organize our 
provincial Church, we must be exposed to mortification and 
disappointment. He should not then have made what does 
not exist a pretext for this rude assault; and despicable 
as our weakness may be, it cannot be admitted to excuse 
his want of urbanity. 

This writer complains of the attempt to diffuse our per- 
nicious errors. Can he be a Protestant who writes thus ? 
The first principle of a Protestant is, that the Bible, as 
understood by those who earnestly seek after truth, will 
lead to the knowledge of God, and not to pernicious error; 
now we discover our doctrines in this sacred book as 
understood by us after earnest search. It is true our 
tenets do not agree with the opinions of the writer in the 
Advocate, but surely he claims no infallibility for himself 
nor for his Church. How dares he, then, call those tenets 
drawn by us from the Word of God pernicious errors, 
when it is, according to his own principle, equally a chance 
that he is in error and that we follow the truth ? 

I cannot avoid here noticing another exhibition of his 
intention to undervalue us ; but it is not peculiar to him, it 
is pretty general. Writing in his own name, or in that 
of the denomination to which he belongs, he calls America 
our country. Really, I always looked upon America to be 
as much the country of old Charles Carroll of Carrollton 
as of any Presbyterian gentleman or of any clerical brother 
who writes for the Christian Advocate, although I have 
frequently known the vainglorious boasting of men, who in 
the same breath proclaimed our Union, " a Protestant 
country," and bewailing that the people here sat in dark- 
ness and in the shadow of death, complained that they 


Avere Sabbath-breakers, even to the travelling in stages and 
steamboats, yea, so far as to permit small meats to be 
sold in open market, in Southern cities, on the summer 
Sabbath morning ! 

However, it seems that full scope was not afforded for 
the zeal of the writer in the wrestling with those abomi- 
nations, but that he had a superabundance which could 
only be expended upon the Romanists. Neither was he 
content that the venerable Bishop White and his brother 
Bowen, together with their two armies of zealous ladies, 
should have the exclusive honor of pelting Popish pastors 
Avith their paper pellets for their enormous errors, but that 
this chosen one should, like another Saul, lead his host to 
complete the victory by pursuing the Philistines, whom Jona- 
than and his armor-bearer had already routed. 

It cannot be unknown to all that "systematic endeavors" 
have been during a long period " employed to counteract the 
Romanists" in all parts of this Union, from the period when 
the ebulitions of zeal against Popery in New England and in 
Georgia rendered abortive the mission of Franklin, of Carroll, 
and of Chase into Canada, doAvn to the present day. You 
that have ears to hear must frequently have found the religion 
of your Catholic progenitors "systematically" denounced in 
prayer and in declamation from the desk, the pulpit, and the 
stump; in the tale of your horrified grandam and of your 
enthusiastic attendant in the nursery; in conning over the 
spelling and the reading book of your infancy, in the nasal 
eloquence of your pedantic pedagogue, in the learned lucu- 
brations of your proud professor, as Avell as in the pretty 
lispings of your sweet Sunday-school spinsters. Yea, this 
is but a faint outline of the "systematic endeavors," which 
are so powerfully aided by the upturned eye, the sigh of 
pity, the ejaculation of pious wonder, and the sanctimonious 
sneer. If missions hither and thither, if the donations and 
legacies of the wealthy, if the gathering of the mites of 
the poor, the calculation of the back stitches and the 



hemmings and fellings of the industrious, the prayers of 
those who are "powerful to wrestle with the Lord/' the 
publication of the conversions of L ;iik Papists in blank 
places to the amount of blank numbers, testified by blank 
witnesses to blank persons of blank respectability; if the 
distribution of tracts filled with misrepresentations of the 
Roman Catholic religion and practices, and a thousand other 
such modes of "systematic endeavors," be not already in 
existence, the people of America are indeed deluded. What 
farther "systematic endeavors should be employed to coun- 
teract the Romanists," the holy editor saith not ; and we 
cannot determine unless he would induce all the States to 
imitate North Carolina and New Jersey in their degrading 
bigotry; for you are of course aware, my friends, that 
neither of those two sanctified States will admit a Papist 
to hold any civil office. 1 

The editor then gives the translation of an article from 
a . French publication, AreJiives du Christianisme, " On the 
residence of St. Peter at Rome," which dissertation I intend 
to examine, and then subjoins: 

" Note by the Translator. It will appear from M. Blanc's 
Scriptural statement of the question respecting Peter's resi- 
dence at Rome, that it is very doubtful whether that 
Apostle ever saw Rome, and demonstrably evident that he 
never was bishop of that city. This removes the very 
corner-stone on which Roman Catholicism rests. For if 
Peter was not Bishop of Rome, the Bishops or Popes of 
Rome are not his successors ; and even the most devoted 
Catholic must then see, that the assumed authority of the 
Pope is an unhallowed and unchristian usurpation, the 
traditions of the Romish Church a tissue of human inven- 
tions, and the infallibility of that Church a dream. At a 
time when the emissaries of that delusion are compassing 
sea and land to gain proselytes, especially in the South 
and "West of our land, it is believed that the above brief 
exposure of the false foundation on which they build their 

>Tho law Is now changed. 


Babel, may not be unprofitable. In France, it lias been 
republished and circulated in the form of a tract, and it 
might be attended with benefit to souls, if several thousand 
copies of it were dispersed in those portions of our own 
country which are most exposed to the influence and the 
arts of men, who would have the whole world to wonder 
after and worship ' the beast/ 

"The translator, in a letter to the editor, which accom- 
panied the above, very justly adds : 

" l It seems to me that Protestants should not be idle 
spectators of the exertions of the Catholic priests to waylay 
the unwary and destroy the simple. I have access to a 
weekly paper published in Charleston called the United 
States Catholic Miscellany, which affords melancholy proof 
of their industry, success, and deep delusion as well as 
of their hatred of Protestant teachers, and of the unblushing 
falsehoods they invent and propagate to rivet the fetters of 
their followers and decoy the ignorant into their toils.'" 

Allow me to address the public freely. You who differ 
from me in religious sentiment are too frequently under 
the impression that we are continually in the habit of 
using insulting and opprobrious language to you and of 
you, and that you and your ministers always speak of us 
in kind, mild, charitable, affectionate, and conciliating terms. 
I would take the liberty of requesting you who agree in 
tenets with the Christian Advocate, to observe for a few 
Sabbaths the mode in which Roman Catholics are mentioned 
or alluded to by your ministers in their prayers and 
preachings ; and if you have ever heard a Roman Catholic 
priest, ask your own conscience whether in his service you 
found him style you or your congregation beasts ; whether 
you heard him using the phrases which are here used 
regarding our clergy; seeking unhallowed and unchristian 
usurpation, emmissacies of delusion, and our Church a 
Babel ! Do not then, I pray you, be over hasty in con- 
demning us of want of charity and boasting of your 
superior liberality. 


I put it to you whether a more insulting and ungenerous 
passage could be produced than that here used against the 
"Catholic priests," viz.: that they "waylay the unwary and 
destroy tho simple." It is not surpassed by the description 
which follows of the mode " hatred of Protestant teachers, 
deep delusion, unblushing falsehoods invented by them and 
propagated by them to rivet the fetters of their followers 
and decoy the ignorant into their toils." And where is the 
proof of this terrible charge to be found? Upon the 
pages of the United States Catholic Miscellany. You are in 
the habit of reading those pages, and I ask you whether 
they inculcate that hatred, whether they exhibit that false- 
hood? I unequivocally assert that a more insolent spirit 
of bigotry was never breathed than in this wretched 
expression, a more unfounded charge has never been made 
than in this offensive paragraph. And yet those men boast 
of their superior charity and of their superior meekness ! 
In the name of insulted truth, let them vindicate them- 
selves if they can ; let them produce from the pages of 
the Miscellany even one passage which exhibits a tithe of 
the hatred to Presbyterian or to any other Protestant 
teachers which is here expressed by this holy man, this 
" clerical brother," against " Catholic priests ;" and if they 
cannot, what ought to be thought of this Christian Advocate? 

The great object, however, is to induce " Protestants not 
to be idle spectators of the exertions of the Catholic 
priests." Now this forcibly reminds me of a scene which 
I once witnessed in a court-house. The judges were much 
anm.yed by the loud though indistinct muttering of some 
fellow and one of them called to the sheriff to seize upon 
the delinquent and thrust him into the dock, upon which 
the tone was changed, and his honor very audibly addressed : 
" I defy you and the sheriff, for I am already in the 
dock," and the cachinnations of the crowd (to use a big 
but expressive word) amused the disturber, whilst they irri- 
tated the bench. So it is with our priests ; they are 
already in the dock ; and the advocate of our castigation 


knows, that from Maine to Florida, and from the Atlantic 
the Stony Mountains, some thousands of roarers and 
some hundreds cf presses assail us and oppose the "exer- 
tions of the Catholic priests," whilst collectors of rags and 
of corn and of cents and of dollars incessantly beg for 
provender and raiment, not only to feed the enthusiastic 
host of the heavenly assailants, but also to train up others 
so that they may enter, ready drilled and fully armed, to 
occupy the places of the veterans who might fall asleep 
in the Lord. Neither is the arm of the flesh always 
restrained, nor doth the sword of Gideon always rust in 
its scabbard ; for beside that the fat of the land is openly 
reserved for the chosen ones of Israel in North Carolina 
and New Jersey, I could recount the acts of stout warriors 
who can smite powerfully in secret and destroy the unholy 
under the guise of liberality. The Christian Advocate might 
then rest fully satisfied that the sons of Protestant Israel 
neither sleep nor slumber; and though he might' himself 
abominate works of supererogation in theory, he hath in 
this instance been heterodox in practice ; for of a truth, 
it is a work of supererogation to call upon Protestants, as 
he hath done, to oppose the priests. 


The question which the dissertation undertakes to dispose 
of, is, whether the Apostle St. Peter was at Rome, and 
the conclusion drawn is, that he was never in that city. 
The grounds upon which it is drawn are two. First, that 
the authorities testifying the fact of his having been there 
are unworthy of credit ; second, that his having been there 
is incompatible with the truth of the New Testament. 

This question was never raised during upwards of thir- 
teen hundred years, and through that whole period every 
Christian writer that we know of, who had occasion to 
mention the subject, stated as notorious facts, universally 
admitted, that St. Peter not only was at Rome, but that 


he was Bishop of Rome and was put to death in the 
reign of Nero for his religion. It is said that a teacher of 
WicklifF, named William, asserted that Peter never was at 
Rome, and this is the earliest contradiction. Be that as it 
may; Ulric Veleuus, a Lutheran, wrote a book to prove 
that this Apostle never saw the city; Illyricus also says 
lie demonstrated it. Calvin only doubts upon the subject; 
and since his day, the question has been settled by various 
Protestants just as they pleased; but unquestionably some 
of their most erudite antiquarians are to be found in the 
English division, many of the best informed amongst 
whom state it to be unquestionable, in point of fact, that 
not only was he there, but that he was Bishop there and 
died there. 

I believe it is in Frey Gerundo the advice is given to 
a young preacher who would bring himself into notice, by 
exciting the astonishment of his congregation, to commence 
boldly by proclaiming, in a loud and dogmatic tone, some 
astounding heresy or error, and then, after a suitable 
pause, in a more subdued tone, inform his hearers that 
he means to controvert and to demolish what he has laid 
before them. If I mistake not, the exemplification which 
is given is the following : I deny that in the Godhead 
there arc three persons ! So says the Socinian, whose errors 
I mean to combat. Upon reading the commencement of 
Monsieur Blanc's dissertation, I was forcibly reminded of 
the Portuguese preceptor of the young friar who aspired 
to pulpit fame. 

" It is upon the testimony of Papias, Bishop of Hier- 
apoli.s, that the Popish tradition rests, respecting St. Peter's 
being at Rome, his founding a Church there, and for 
twenty-five years discharging in it the functions of a bishop. 
Papias was copied by Clement of Alexandria ; Clement 
was copied by Euscbius, and the latter has been copied 
by many authors, ancient and modern, who have been, 
perhaps, too much interested to render credible a fact, 
which will always be of very little importance to "those 


who build their faith, not on the person of St. Peter, but 
upon the corner-stone, Jesus Christ. The account of Papias, 
which is based upon a hearsay only, abouir eighty years 
after the occurrence to which it refers, is still extant, and 
is full of fables and ridiculous tales such as the contest 
which this Apostle sustained against Simon the sorcerer, 
his crucifixion, with his head downwards as if Nero had 
left to the Christians the care of settling the forms of 
their own punishment and other similar things, which 
were reported originally only by this Papias himself. Euse- 
bius, speaking of him, calls him '& man of narrow genius, 
and too credulous.' " 

Nobly demolished! But allow me to gather up the frag- 
ments. First I must see who Papias was. He was Bishop 
of Hierapolis, and flourished about the beginning of the 
second century. St. Peter w r as put to death in the year 
65 or 66. Papias died about the year 150, when he was 
considerably upwards of eighty years old, at the very low- 
est calculation; I might more safely say much older. Thus 
in place of being a gatherer of hearsay at the distance 
of eighty years after the time of Peter, this prelate was 
more properly speaking a contemporary of the Apostle? 
though not his acquaintance nor his hearer, but very young 
and living at a distance. He lived, according to all early 
writers, in the days of some of the Apostles, and had his 
accounts from those who saw and heard and lived with 
them ; and from conversations w r ith those persons he com- 
piled his five books "An Explication of the Oracles of 
God." All the ancient writers concur in the testimony of 
the excellence of character of Papias, so that he is unques- 
tionably an honest witness; but they also are agreed that his 
testimonials are to be received with caution, because of his 
shallow judgment and credulous disposition. The facts which 
he testifies are of two descriptions, respecting which a pal- 
pable distinction is easily made. Some of them were of 
such a nature as required no effort of judgment: such as, 
knowing where one of the most remarkable of the Apostles 


resided and died. A simple, honest man who held the 
station of bishop soon after Peter's death, and was a sed- 
ulous inquirer into the facts regarding the Apostles, could 
easily learn this and could as easily testify it. But in 
making inquiry regarding the sayings of the Apostles, he 
might by reason of his narrow judgment and credulous dis- 
position be easily misled, as we find he was respecting the 
opinion of the millennium, of which he was the author. 
Thus Papias is rather to be considered a contemporary of 
the Apostles, and fully competent to testify where Peter 
lived and died, than to be looked upon as a silly old 
man who is only a gatherer of hearsays respecting nearly 
a century before. Papias was a contemporary and com- 
panion of St. Polycarp, ftie disciple of St. John the Evan- 
gelist, and whom this Apostle constituted Bishop of Smyrna, 
probably in the year 96. He was also a teacher of St. 
IrenaBus, who died Bishop of Lyons, and who also derived 
much of his Christian knowledge from Polycarp; Irenoeus 
was put to death in the year 202. 

Having thus seen the character of Papias and his com- 
petency to be a witness of at least the fact where a well 
and publicly known man who held a high place in the 
Christian Church lived and died, I come to examine this 
flippant Frenchman's dash respecting the testimony itself. 
" It is upon the testimony of Papias that the Popish tra- 
dition rests." Why, of a truth, if the handing down of 
a known fact be tradition, yea, even this is tradition, for 
verily it handeth down the testified fact which was com- 
monly and publicly known. The flimsy cobweb of the 
word tradition will not hide from Americans the truth. A 
fact must be testified by some writer that it might become 
a portion of recorded history ; and being so testified and 
recorded as known truth, it does not lose its quality of 
truth because of being handed down. Thus, suppose AVC 
had no other original testimony save that of this old writer, 
still would it not be the less true because it had come 
from him to us. This is the way in which the Scriptures 


have come to us, by tradition or delivery, and it was 
naturally impossible that it could have been otherwise 
received by us. The question at present is not whether 
St. Peter was there twenty-five years, nor whether he 
founded a Church there, nor whether he was crucified with 
his head downwards, nor whether the story of the contest 
with Simon is or is not true. Papias might have been 
misled upon all these points, and yet clearly know and 
plainly testify that Peter was at Home and died there, 
though he might err in all the other particulars. I state this 
merely to narrow the question, not because I doubt the 
truth of any of the statements. The word tradition then, 
if meant to be opposed to good history, is a gross mis- 
representation, for in making this record the Bishop of 
Hierapolis is a coeval historian, who receives from eye- 
witnesses and ear-witnesses the testimony of the residence 
of Peter and of his death at Eome. I doubt if M. 
Blank, of Philadelphia, was ever in Mexico or saw Itur- 
bide, yet he might, in writing a history of American rev- 
olutions, fairly put into such a book the testimony of his 
being emperor, and dethroned, exiled, having returned, and 
being slain. No one of us in the United States is igno- 
rant of those facts ; yet how few of us are even now 
acquainted with the true state of Mexico ! Whilst, then, 
we give correct testimony of those facts, we are liable to 
mistake and to be imposed upon by the accounts of a 
variety of opinions and conversations of some of the Scotch 
and Yorkist Masons, who have so much mysterious cabal- 
ism in the regulation of its aifairs. Thus, respecting the 
residence and death of the chief of the Apostles, Papias 
is a good historian, though he might have been deceived 
in some of the particulars. 

I come next to the assertion that the whole tradition 
(history) rests upon the testimony of Papias. Never was 
any assertion more unfounded. We have a great variety 
of other- evidence to support the fact. The first arrival of 
St. Paul in Rome is mentioned in Acts xxviii, 14, 15, 16, 


and here it is distinctly stated that the brethren (Christians) 
came as far as Appii Forum and the Three Taverns to 
meet him ; consequently there were Christians in that city 
before his arrival. Previously to this, he had written his 
epistle to the Romans, where in chapter i, verses 7 and 
8, it is manifest that Rome was then a city which had a 
Christian Church, " whose faith was spoken of through the 
whole world." Now the questions occur: Who made those 
Christians? Who governed that Church? Certainly not Paul, 
who had not been there at that time. Not only Papias 
but a great number of ancient writers inform us that Peter 
was their Apostle. This was stated to the knowledge of 
the people of Rome and of all the other Churches and 
not contradicted but admitted by them all, and in the 
earliest ages was made a foundation for a claim on the 
part of Rome for supremacy over the other parts of 
the Church. Towards several portions of the universal 
Church, in the earliest ages, the Bishops of Rome used 
measures which appeared harsh and coercive, and yet 
we never find a single bishop or Church in those early 
ages question the fact of Peter's residence and labors in 
Rome, though we find some of them displeased with the 
manner in which the authority derived from him was used 
against themselves. They lived near the Apostolic days, 
they knew the character of Papias> and still we are gravely 
told that this simple prelate beguiled and misled them all! 
Yet this is called criticism. I doubt not but we could find 
persons who would call it philosophy ! Yes, the philoso- 
phy of history ! There are some people who seriously give 
that name to their own speculations against fact. Monsieur 
Blanc, however, forgets himself a little, for though he told 
us that it was upon the authority of Papias the Popish 
tradition of St. Peter's being at Rome, etc., rested, and 
gives us the account of Papias as based upon a hearsay 
about eighty years after the occurrence that is, in the year 
146, or thereabouts he informs us in his next paragraph: 
"According to the testimony of the same Eusebius, Dio- 
nysius, Bishop of Corinth, an author of the second century, 


affirms also that St. Peter and St. Paul met at Corinth, 
and that they departed together for Rome, where they suf- 
fered martyrdom." 

One passing remark here might not be amiss, viz., this 
very accurate antiquarian refers us to the 25th chapter of 
Book II of Eusebius, as authority for his statement that 
"St. Peter and St. Paul met at Corinth." Not one sylla- 
ble in support of such an assertion is to be found in any 
copy of Eusebius which has fallen under my eye, nor in 
support of the other avermeilt that "they departed together 
for Rome." But the history of Eusebius does contain a 
passage from the said Dionysius, stating that both those 
saints did instruct the Christians at Corinth, and were 
united in building or planting the Church at Rome ; and 
Eusebius also states, that the same author testifies their 
martyrdom at Rome. Thus we find the essayist gives us 
another witness besides Papias ; and, therefore, the Popish 
tradition, even according to himself, does not rest on that 
prelate alone. This looks like a contradiction. Dionysius 
died in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, of course before the 
year 192, and at an advanced age. If Papias wrote at 
Hierapolis only from a hearsay, eighty years after the 
transaction, Dionysius in Corinth, who wrote several years 
before his death his epistle to the Romans, in which this 
testimony is found, must in all likelihood have learned it 
from other sources besides the book of the Bishop of 
Hierapolis. And how strangely must it sound to the Ro- 
mans when the letter of the Bishop of Corinth was read 
to them, informing them of what, upon the supposition of 
our friend, the Reverend Blanc, they knew to be false, 
viz., that St. Peter, who never was in their city, planted 
their Church and was put to death in a place where he 
never had been ! Yet this Dionysius appeared to know the 
history of the Roman Church very well, for in this same 
epistle to the Romans, or rather to Soter, their Bishop, 
he writes, in thanking them for the alms received from 
Rome for his Church : 


" From the beginning it is your custom to bestow your 
alms in all places, and to furnish subsistence to many 
Churches. You send relief to the needy, especially to those 
who work in the mines ; in which you follow the example 
of your fathers. Your blessed Bishop Soter is so far from 
degenerating from your ancestors on that head, that he 
goes beyond them ; not to mention the comfort and advice 
which he, with the bowels of a tender father towards his 
children, affords to all who come to him. On this day 
we celebrated together the Lord's day, and read your letter 
as we do that which was heretofore written to us by 

It will be matter of more than curiosity to compare this 
with an early Protestant translation : 

" It hath bene your- accustomed manner, euen from the 
beginning : diuersely to benefit all the brethren, and to 
send relief throughout the citie, supplying the want of the 
poore by refreshing them in this sorte, and specially the 
want of the brethren appointed for slauish drudgerie, and 
digging of metalls. You Romaines of olde do retaine the 
fatherly affection of Rome, which holy Soter, your byshop, 
not only obserued, but also augmented, ministring large and 
liberall relief to the vse of the sainctes : embracing louingly 
the conuerted brethren, as a father doth his sonnes, with 
exhortation of wholesome doctrine. Here also he remem- 
breth the epistle of Clemens written to the Corinthians, 
showing the same of auncient custome, to haue bene read 
in the Church, for thus he writeth : We have this day 
solemnized the holy Sunday, in the which we haue read 
your epistle and always will for instructions sake, even as 
we do the former of Clemens written vnto us." 

"The citie" is here substituted for "many churches;" 
any person can tell why. The bishop who wrote thus did 
not need the hearsay nor the tradition of Papias to tell 
who was the first Bishop of Rome. Of a verity then, 
Dionysius copied not Papias, as of a truth Monsieur Blanc 
copied not either Eusebius or Dionysius where he affected 
to do. Dionysius, however, must also be demolished. 


" But besides that Dionysius himself complains that his 
letters have been falsified by heretics, a circumstance which 
considerably invalidates the authority of his writings, this 
testimony ought not to outweigh the truth of our holy 
Scriptures, which, with the divine assistance, we shall bring 
forward below." 

Then we must, it seems, throw the testimony of this 
writer away, because he complains that " his letters had 
been falsified by heretics." If the principle be good, we 
must give to it all due weight and value ; and, therefore, 
must make no use of what he thus states to have been 
so falsified. Of course, M. Blanc cannot reject one por- 
tion of the passage, and keep another, without giving some 
sufficient reason therefor. The following is the Protestant 
translation : 

"When I was mtreated of the brethren to write, I 
wrote certain Epistles, but the messengers of Satan have 
sowen them with tares, pulling away some, putting to others 
some, whose condemnation is laid up of certaine. No 
marveil then though some endeavored to corrupt the sacred 
Scriptures of God, when as went about to counterfeit such 
writings of so small authoritie." 1 

Are we then to reject the Scriptures? Have not heretics 
endeavored to falsify them? My answer is very simple. 
Attempts were made to change passages in those epistles 
of Dionysius regarding doctrine and opinion, but concerning 
a plain fact, as well known at Rome, whither he wrote, 
as at Corinth, upon a subject regarding which Rome could 
not mistake, it would indeed be egregious folly to attempt 
any counterfeit, for such counterfeit would be at once 
detected, and would expose him who made it to condemna- 
tion and contempt. But w r hat a case do our adversaries 
make out for us, if they call this a forgery? It is equiv- 
alent to an avowal that in the days of this bishop, there 
was a body of men who falsified his letters to make it 
appear that Peter was at Rome, and that their system was, 

i Lib. iv, c. 23. 


like ours, founded upon his supremacy. "Will not this 
destroy his assertion that it was begun by Papias? See the 
other consequence of arguing as Monsieur Blanc does. We 
destroy the authority of the Scriptures of God. It is really 
an avowal of what I am convinced is the fact, that to* 
destroy the foundations of the Koman Catholic Church you 
must subvert Christianity. 

But to return. It is plain that the epistle to Soter and 
the Roman people was not one of those that had been 
falsified, for they that were changed by heretics were his 
doctrinal epistles, but this is one merely of thanks for 
alms. He then learned, not from Papias, but from public 
evidence, as did Papias himself; hence the French disser- 
tation states that which is not the fact, when it gives 
Papias as the only original author of the statement. 

I leave to the " clerical friend " and to his editor to 
say how they can be certain that the copy of the Scrip- 
tures which they possess is free from heretical corruptions, 
if copies had been corrupted by heretics so early as the 
time of Dionysius. For my part, I avow I could have no 
certainty respecting the copy which I use, did I not 
acknowledge the infallible authority of a tribunal which 
then guarded their purity and continues to do so to-day, 
but which tribunal is valueless in the eye of those erudite 

Before I proceed to adduce the other testimony, I desire 
to close my remarks upon the passages which I have 
adduced from Monsieur Blanc. 

" Papias was copied by Clement of Alexandria, Clement 
was copied by Eusebius." 

The essayist refers for his authority in making these 
statements to Eusebius, Hist. Ecc. lib. ii, c. 14, 15, et. seq. 
How far "ct seq." might extend I know not. But I da 
know that, after diligent reading of Eusebius, I find no 
authority for the statement. But in the fifteenth chapter I 
find the following passage: 


"CAP. XV. 

"The foyle of Simon, and mention of the Gospell written by 

St. Marke. 

"When the heauenly worde came thither, immediately 
the power of Simon, together with him selfe came to nought, 
and the flame was quenched. But of the contrarie such a 
light of piety shined in the mindes of such as heard Peter, 
that they were not suffized with once hearing, neither satisfied 
with the unwritten doctrine that was deliuered : but earn- 
estly besought Sainct Marke (whose Gospell is now in use) 
that he would leaue in writing, vnto them, the doctrine 
which they had receaued by preaching, neither ceassed they, 
vntil they had perswaded him, and so geuen an occasion 
of the Gospell to be written, which is now after Marke. 
It is reported, that the Apostle vnderstanding of this by 
inspiration of the holy spirite, was pleased with the motion 
of those men, and commanded this Gospell now written to 
be read in the Churches. Clemens, in the sixth of his 
Ilypotiposeon, reporteth this story. With him agreeth Papias, 
Bishop of Hierapolis in Asia, who sayth, that of this Marke 
mention is made of Peter, in his former Epistle, which he 
compiled being at Rome, and of him the citie of Rome 
figuratively to be called Babylon, the which is signified 
when he sayth : the Church partaker of your election, which 
is at Babylon, saluteth you, and Marke my sonne." 

There is no authority here for stating that the writer 
of the Hypotiposeon copied from Papias, and when Mon- 
sieur Blanc made the assertion, he wrote the thing which is 
not. Neither was Clement the author of that book, though 
it bears his name. Eusebius wrote in the century succeed- 
ing that in which Clement died and quotes him ; but I 
shall show a large body of intervening testimony in several 
places during the interval, so that to assert as is here 
done by the dissertator, is to suggest a falsehood, that 
this was the only course of the testimony, and is also to 


suppress the truth, that there was a large host of other 
witnesses ; and besides, the fact here referred to is not the 
founding of the Church but the writing of the Gospel by 
St. Mark at Rome, under the direction of St. Peter. 


I have shown that M. Blanc's references to Eusebius are 
not to be relied upon ; that Papias was a contemporary of 
some of the Apostles, and could easily ascertain who was 
the first Bishop of Rome ; that he was an honest witness, 
and even according to the reverend dissertator was not the 
only witness who, living in the Apostolic days, testified 
the fact of Peter's residence at Rome; for Dionysius, Bishop 
of Corinth, who testifies it, was also a contemporary with 
at least one of the Apostles. 

The next attempt to destroy testimony is the effort to 
make Pope Clement of Rome say what is the very con- 
tradictory to his meaning. 

" To all these pretensions, we can oppose, in the first 
place, the testimony of Clement, who is reckoned to have 
been the third or fourth Bishop of Rome. This pious and 
holy person, in his admirable epistle to the Corinthians, 
expresses himself thus on the subject of St. Peter and, St. 
Paul: 'Through unjust envy, Peter did not endure one 
or two but a very great number of trials, and at last, 
having suffered martyrdom, he went to his place in glory. 
Through the same envy, Paul received the reward of his 
patience, having been in prison or in chains seven times, 
beaten twice, stoned once; and after he had been the herald 
of the Word of God in the East and in the West, he 
obtained by faith an illustrious victory. Having reached 
the extremity of the West, he suffered martyrdom under 
the emperors. Thus he departed from this world, and went 
to a holy place, leaving us a singular example of patience.' 
What is the likelihood, that in the parallel which Clement 
draws between these two Apostles, he should forget to say 
that under the emperors he (Peter) suffered the pains of 


martyrdom ? "Would he have neglected a fact, in this man- 
ner, which would have given additional weight to his 
epistle, and done honor to his See ? " 

The passage of Clement is to be explained by the cir- 
cumstances under wkich it was written, by the comment 
of contemporaneous writers and of those who lived soon 
after the period of its publication. Allow me first to 
remark, without questioning the accuracy of the translation, 
that this passage does not by any means deny, even by 
implication, the facts of Peter's residence and death at 
Home ; so that in truth there is no opposition between 
those two propositions: "Peter suffered martyrdom at Rome, 
where he had resided, under the emperor Nero," which is 
our assertion, and this other : " Peter having suffered mar- 
tyrdom, he went to the place of his glory," which is 
Clement's assertion. The clause under the emperors can 
without any impropriety be referred to both Saints ; for in 
truth they both suffered in the same place. As to the 
apparent neglect of Clement, the answer is very simple: The 
fact of Peter's having suffered at Rome was so well known 
that it was as unnecessary to mention it at that period 
to Christians as it would this day be unnecessary to inform 
a Frenchman that Louis XVI was beheaded in Paris. 

The occasion of the letter was a schism at Corinth, in 
or about the year 96. This letter is one of which Dio- 
nysius, Bishop of that See, makes mention in the next cen- 
tury as having been still read in his Church, and we 
have seen that this prelate informs us what meaning the 
passage bore in the assembly to which it was addressed 
and by which it was preserved, viz., that both the Apos- 
tles, Peter and Paul, suffered martyrdom in Rome. This 
Clement was mentioned by St. Paul. 1 His epistle was 
read in several of the early Churches, and was held in 
such esteem as to be contained in a very ancient Alexan- 
drian manuscript copy of the Bible, sent by Cyril Lucar to 
James I, of England. It was carried from Rome to Corinth 

28 i Phil. iv. 3. 


by Fortunatus, of whom St. Paul makes mention, 1 accom- 
panied by four messengers from Rome, whom Clement 
requested the Corinthians speedily to send back to him 
with good tidings. In all the Churches in which it was 
read, the belief existed that the martyrdom of both the 
Apostles occurred in Rome. Eusebius 2 states : 


" Of Clemens, his Bishopricke, his testimony, his Epistle* 

"In the twelfe yeare of the raygne of Domitian, when 
as Anaddus had bene Bishop of Rome twelue years : 
Clemens succeeded, whome S. Paul, writing to the Philipi- 
ans, calleth his felow laborer, when he sayth : with 
Clemens, and the rest of my felow laborers, whose 
names are written in the booke of life, one undoubted 
epistle ther is of his, extant, both worthy and notable, the 
which he wrote from Rome unto Corinthe, when sedition 
was raysed among the Corinthians : the same Epistle we 
haue knowne to haue bene reade openly, and publikely, in, 
many churches, both of old, and amongest us also. That 
at that tyme ther was raysed a sedition amongst the 
Corinthians, JEgcsippus is a witness of creditt." 

And this author distinctly testifies the martyrdom to 
have taken place in Rome, 3 upon the authority, amongst 
others, of Origen. It would be altogether too tedious to 
enumerate the others who, in the first three centuries, testify 
this to have been the sense of the passage which Mr. Blanc, 
by a new species of false logic, converts into a contradiction, 
St. Jerome, Photius, and others of highest authority for 
erudition and research, give this as its meaning. Amongst 
the Protestants, Dodwell, Bishop Pearson, Cave, Archbishop 
Wake, Grabe, and others, follow those ancient and vener- 
able witnesses. Thus, the passage in Clement's epistle is 

il Cor. xvl, 17. Lib. iii, c. 14. Lib. c. ill, 1. 


one which bears testimony for us and not against us. 
Eusebius, when lie wrote, had this document, as well as 
several others, before him, all tending to uphold our posi- 
tion ; and yet M. Blanc has the modesty to state that this 
historian only copied Clement of Alexandria who copied 
Papias, who made his statement upon a hearsay eighty 
years after the alleged occurrence ! What says Eusebius 

"CAP. I. 

" In what countreyes the Apostles preached Christ. 

"When as the Jewish affrayres stood as before is declared, 
the Holy Apostles and Disciples of our Saviour were 
dispersed troughout the world. Thomas (as by tradition 
we receaue) chose Parthia : Andrew, Scythia ; John, Asia : 
where he made his abode, and died at Ephesus. Peter is 
reported to haue preached to the dispersed lewes through- 
out Pontus, Gallachia, Bithynia, Cappadocia, and Asia, who 
about this latter time, tarrying at Rome, was crucified with 
his head downwards, which kind of death he him selfe 
desired. What shall I say of Panic, which from Jerusalem 
to Illyricum, filled all places with the Gospel of Christ; 
and at the last suffred martyrdome at Home under Nero? 
These thinges are manifestly and word by word declared by 
Orifjen, in the third tome of his commentaries upon Genesis." 

"CAP. II. 

" Who was the first Bishop of Rome. 

" Linus first, after the martyrdome of Peter and Paule, 
was chosen Bishop of Rome, Paule about the latter end in 
the salutation of the epistle which he wrote vnto Timothe, 
from Rome, maketh mention of him, saying: Eubulus saluteth 
thee, and Pudens, and Linus, and Claudia" 

This is a very extraordinary mode of upholding the asser- 
tion, that Eusebius copied Clement of Alexandria. One 
may easily observe, then, the little value of this writer's 


Ignatius was a disciple of St. Peter and St. Paul, as 
also of St. John the Evangelist, with whom he was extremely 
intimate, and was second Bishop after Peter of the Church 
of Antioch. Evodius, who, in the year 43, succeeded Peter, 
was succeeded by this Ignatius. St. John Chrysostom 1 and 
Theodoret 2 inform us that the appointment of Ignatius 
was made by St. Peter, and that he was consecrated by 
him and St. Paul. He governed the See of Antioch during 
upwards of forty years, and suffered martyrdom in Rome 
on the 20th of December, 107. In his epistle to the 
Romans, after he had been sentenced in Antioch to be 
carried to Rome and delivered to be devoured by beasts at 
the public games, he alludes, in the following passage, to 
the authority which Peter and Paul, who had so long 
been the special rulers of their Church, had over them : 
" Pray to Christ for me, that in this I may become a 
sacrifice to God. I do not as Peter and Paul command 
you ; they were Apostles, I am an inconsiderable person." 
The whole body of ancient writers inform us that this was 
an allusion to the command given by those Apostles 
to the Christians at Rome, not to interfere, by exer- 
tion, or entreaty, or prayer, to prevent their being sac- 
rificed. Eusebius, when he wrote, had this document also. 3 
He mentioned the five books of Church history compiled 
by Hegesippus, who came to Rome in the Pontificate of 
Anicetus, about the year 1GO, and remained there until 177, 
when he returned to the East, and died probably at Jeru- 
salem, in the year 180, at a very advanced age. 4 Eusebius 
.states he copied very much from him ; and it is in his 
work the principal written testimony is first found as to 
the request of Peter that he might be crucified with his 
head downwards. In book iii, chap; 2, of Hegesippus, the 
relation was given. Thus, in Rome itself, and from the 
persons of all others best qualified to give the account, 
this author wrote his statement which Eusebius saw; and 
yet Monsieur Blanc gravely informs us, that he only copied 

'Horn, on 8. Jgnat. ial, I, p. 23. a Lib. ill, c 30. * Lib. iv, c. 21, 23. 


Clement of Alexandria, who copied Papias, who built his 
tradition on a hearsay about eighty years after the occur- 
rence, and in Hierapolis ! Of a truth this is a most his- 
torical critic. 

About fifty years after the time of Dionysius of Corinth, 
Caius wrote, of whom Eusebius gives us the following 
account and testimony i 1 

" This enemy of God (Nero) (wherein he was first espied) 
set vp him selfe to the destruction of the Apostles, for 
they write that Paule was beheaded and Peter crucified of 
him at Rome, and that maketh for the credit of our his- 
tory which is commonly reported, that there be churchyards 
vnto this day bearing the name of Peter and Pauk. In 
like manerr Gaius, a Romane, and an Ecclesiasticall per- 
son, and (after Zcphcrinus), Bishop of Rome, writing unto 
Proclus, captainc, of the heresie which the Cataphyrgsens 
held, speaketh thus of the tombes wherein the Apostles 
Avere layd. I (sayeth he) am able to shewe the banners 
of the Apostles. For if thou wilt walke vnto Yaticanum, 
or the waye Ostienses, thou shalt finde there victorious 
banners, of such as haue builded this Church. And that 
they were both crowned with martirdome at the same time, 
Dionysius, Bishop of Corinth, afifirmeth in his epistle vnto 
the Romanes." 

This passage is more correctly translated thus : 

" Therefore, when he (Nero), professed himself the open 
enemy of the divinity and piety, sought first the death of 
the very Apostles, as being the leaders and standard-bearers 
amongst the people of God ; and condemned Paul to lose 
his head in the city of Rome, and Peter to the punish- 
ment of the cross. I think it useless to search extrinsic 
evidence of those things, since their most splendid monu- 
ments testify to the fact to-day." 

Yet M. Blanc tells us that he only copied Clement of 
Alexandria, who copied Papias ! 

St. Irenseus, Bishop of Lyons, was born about the year 
120, in Asia Minor, and was a disciple of the famous 

>Lib. ii, c. 25. 


St. Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna, the pupil of St. Jonn tne 
Evangelist. Polycarp was the angel of the Church of 
Smyrna, 1 so commended by. " the Son of Man." He vis- 
ited Pope Anicetus, in Rome, about the year 158, and cer- 
tainly was well aware of who was first Bishop of that See. 
He suffered martyrdom about the year 166, when, accord- 
ing to his own testimony, he had served Christ eighty-six 
years, and was at least one hundred years . old. Basnage, 
a learned Protestant writer, thinks he was an hundred and 
twenty years old, which would have made him a contem- 
porary of St. Peter. From him and other eminent prelates 
Irenseus learned the facts and doctrines of Christianity. 
Tertullian 2 calls Irenseus " the most diligent searcher of all 
doctrines." St. Epiphanius calls him a most learned and 
eloquent man, endowed with all the gifts of the Holy 
Ghost." Theodoret styles him, "the light of the Western 
Gauls." The commerce between Marseilles and Smyrna 
was extensive in the second century, and Irenseus was 
advised by Polycarp to proceed to Gaul, where many 
Christians were extending their faith. He was ordained 
priest by Pothinus, Bishop of Lyons, and in 177 was sent 
to Rome on business, from the Church of Lyons to Pope 
Eleutherius ; thus in the city itself he had the full oppor- 
tunity of investigating the history of its bishops. The 
Bishop of Lyons having been martyred during the absence 
of Irenscus, he was selected upon his return to govern 
that See ; and was slain with a vast number of his flock, 
in the fifth persecution under Servius, about the year 202. 
This writer 3 states that the Apostles left their doctrine and 
the truth of all the mysteries of faith to their successors 
the pastors, and that it is fit we should have recourse to 
them to learn ; especially " to the greatest Church, the 
most ancient and known to all, founded at Rome by the 
two most glorious Apostles, Peter and Paul, which retains 
the tradition it received from them, and which it derived 

i Rev. 11, 8, 9. Lib. contra Valcnt. c. 6. * Lib. Ill, c. S. 


through a succession of bishops down to us. Showing 
which, we confound all who, any way out of self-conceit, 
love of applause, blindness, or false persuasions, embrace 
what ought not to be advanced; for to this Church, because 
of its better presidency, it is necessary that every Church 
that is, the faithful everywhere should address them- 
selves ; in which Church the tradition from the Apostles 
is altogether preserved." He then stated that SS. Peter 
and Paul chose Linus to succeed at their death ; and he 
enumerates Anacletus, Clement, Evaristus, Alexander, Sixtus, 
Telesphorus, Hyginus, Pius, Anicetus, Soter, and Eleuthe- 
rius, the twelve of the Apostles. This list is also found 
in Eusebius, 1 copied, as he alleges, from Irenseus. Thus 
one observes how extremely incorrect is the assertion of 
the Reverend M. Blanc as to the authority upon which 
this historian bases his statements. 

Eusebius states, 2 from ancient accounts whose truth he 
considers to be extremely probable, that Philo, the Jew, 
who came from Egypt in the beginning of the reign of 
the Emperor Claudius, met and conferred at Rome with 
St. Peter, who then preached to the Romans. This was in 
the year 43 of the common era. 

Arnobius, the famous Numidian rhetorician, who was 
converted to Christianity in or about the year 302, men- 
tions the extensive progress of religion in Rome to have 
been in a great measure caused by the exposure and defeat 
of Simon Magus, by St. Peter, in that city. 8 

Tertullian, born at Carthage about the year 160, son 
of a centurion, a man of most comprehensive genius, exten- 
sive erudition, and deep research, profoundly versed in the 
Roman laws and the principles of evidence, in his book 
"On Prescriptions," states that Peter was crucified at Rome, 
and says that Clement was one of his successors in that 
See. He has in his book of Prescriptions the following 
passage : 

iLib. v, c. 6. "Lib, ii, c. xvi. Lib. contra Gent. 


" If you are near Italy, you have Borne ; whence, too, 
we have authority convenient. Happy Church for which 
the Apostles poured out their entire doctrine, together with 
their blood where Peter is assimilated to his suffering 
Lord, and Paul is crowned in a death like John's." 

St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, was s'on of one of the 
principal senators of that city, and only at an advanced 
period of life embraced the Christian faith. His education 
was one of the first order and his talents excellent; his 
intercourse w r ith the Church of Rome was very consider- 
able, after he had been elevated to the see of his native 
city ; nor w r as it all of the most forbearing and obsequi- 
ous character. In a variety of places he styles Rome 
"the See of Peter," "the Chair of Peter," "the principal 
Church whence the princely unity hath arisen." In his 
book iv, Epistle 2, to Antonianus we read : " Cornelius 
was made Bishop, when the place of Fabian, that is the 
place of Peter, and the degree of the sacerdotal chair, was 
vacant." This prelate was put to death in the year 258. 

Lactantius, a disciple of Arnobius, at Sicca, in Africa, 
was converted from Paganism to Christianity at Nicomedia, 
about the year 290. About the year 317 he became pre- 
ceptor to Crispus Caesar, in Gaul, by the appointment of 
Constantine. One of his greatest works is that " Of Divine 
Institutions," published first in 320. I select the follow- 
ing passages : 

"Christ at the time of His departure manifested to His 
disciples the things that were to happen, which Peter and 
Paul preached at Rome." 

"After Nero had slain them (Peter and Paul), Vespa- 
sian extinguished the name and nation of the Jews, and 
did all those things which they foretold were to take 
place." 1 

St. Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria, was born about the 
year 296, and amongst other passages of his writings is 
the following, taken from his letter to the Hermits : 

i Mb. iv. c. 21. 


"At first they did not spare even Liberius, Bishop of 
Rome ; not being moved by any reverence, for that his 
See was Apostolic." 

In the same lie introduces Liberius declaring : 

" Never has such been handed down to us by the 
Fathers, who have received their tradition from the blessed 
and great Peter." 

Origen, the fellow student of Plotinus and Longinus, 
the disciple of Ammonius Saccas, was certainly no mere 
copyist without cause. This great master of the Catechet- 
ical school of Alexandria was born in the year 184 ; about 
the year 212 he went to Rome, in the Pontificate of 
Zepherinus, and was unquestionably well qualified to ascer- 
tain its ecclesiastical history. It is upon his authority also 
that Eusebius relates the manner in which St. Peter was 
crucified with his head downwards, at his own request: 

"And Peter having waited at Rome to the last, was 
crucified there, his head being downwards, which was so 
besought by himself, lest he should appear to be equalled 
to his Lord." 1 

I suspect it required no special indulgence from ISTero 
to leave the executioner the power of agreeing to the 
request of one to suffer, so far as regarded the position of 
his body. It is a miserable sneer of sophistry to insinu- 
ate that such an acquiescence on the part of the execu- 
tioner was equivalent to " allowing Christians the care of 
settling their own forms of punishment." 

All these and a great many more who bear similar 
testimony lived before or together with Eusebius, the his- 
torian, who was born in the year 270. Their works and 
those of several others were in his hands. How absurd 
then is the statement that he was the mere copyist of a 
copyist of hearsay? 

I come now to exhibit the effort which the essayist 
makes to destroy the entire value of all the witnesses. 

iLib. iii, in Genes. 


He had previously made his assaults upon Papias, Diony- 
sius of Corinth, and Eusebius. But this he feels will not 
serve his purpose, and he, as if in a mere transient man- 
ner, as a matter too plain to be questioned, too palpable 
to require proof, states that not a single passage from any 
of the ancient writers is of any avail when adduced by 
a Roman Catholic, but if it be adduced by a Protestant 
it is conclusive. You will probably think this a very 
-extraordinary position. But do not pass a hasty judgment. 

" Let us also make, in passing, the remark, that when 
the Fathers are produced against us in order to support 
dogmas or facts, which our opponent feels himself inter- 
ested in maintaining, we ought to be the more upon our 
guard, because the Council of Trent has decided that the 
books of the ancient Fathers ought to be purged, (expur- 
cjati) ; a circumstance that, consequently, should make us 
very circumspect in the admission of passages which they 
-cite against us ; while, on the other hand, the passages of 
these Fathers which we allege, remain in all their force, 
since W 7 e possess the books of the ancients only from the 
hands of our adversaries." 

Now suppose the Council of Trent made such a deci- 
sion, and that it was carried into execution ; all that 
-could follow would be, that after the close of that council 
the works would have been garbled; that is, passages 
would have been omitted. But my argument rests upon 
the passages which have been retained, and unless the wit- 
nesses contradict themselves, none of the expugned passages 
could have asserted what contradicts those retained. Hence, 
ven were I to admit the truth of this statement, his con- 
clusion would be unsupported. 

Again : The Council of Trent did not close its session 
until the year 1563, at which period a large portion of 
Europe and several of its universities were Protestant, and a 
great number of ancient copies of the works of the Fathers 
were in the hands of the Protestants, as well as in the 
libraries of those universities and cathedrals, as in those 


of the monasteries, colleges and schools, which they 
seized on, and in the hands of many private individuals. 
The council could not purge all those copies of the obnox- 
ious passages which they contained ; why not adduce those 
passages and thus convict the Catholics of this alleged 
garbling? Those works and printed copies of them are at 
this day in the hands of Protestants, and they have been so 
during the existence of the Protestant Churches; when such 
is the case, what use would be the purging of the copies 
held by the Catholics? 

Monsieur Blanc perhaps thinks that using the Latin 
word expurgati will be sufficient proof that the council 
made such a decree. It is painful but it is necessory to 
inform you that the council made no such decree or de- 
cision. AVriters like M. Blanc and the " clerical brother " 
and the editor of the Christian Advocate are too fond of 
using this mode of attack upon us. It would have been 
as easy and more satisfactory to have referred to the ses- 
sion when the decree was made, to the page of the work 
in which it might be found, or to the head under which 
it was classed, as to write the Latin word expurgati. 

Thus it is very plain that in three paragraphs of this 
dissertation w r e have a very large number of glaring mis- 
statements, as well as the manifestation of a desire to de- 
stroy the credit of all the ancient witnesses and documents 
of Church history, merely because they manifestly prove 
the truth of a fact which our " clerical brother " hates to 
admit. It is a little extraordinary that men who belong 
to a Christian society should be so anxious to extinguish 
all the ancient lights of the Church, and to create a chaos 
or to leave a blank between the period at which St. Luke 
concludes his account of the Acts of the Apostles and the 
present day ; or a comparatively recent period. 

Having thus shown the disingenuity, the sophistry, and 
want of honesty of M. Blanc, in his first assertions, I 
shall proceed to examine another very flippant expression 
of his essay : 


" Clement was copied by Eusebius, and the latter has 
been copied by many authors, ancient and modern, who 
"have been, perhaps, too much interested to render credible 
a fact which will always be of very little importance to 
those who build their faith, not on the person of Peter, 
but upon the corner-stone, Jesus Christ." 

In the first place I would remark that I know of no 
persons who build their faith upon the person of St. 
Peter. If it be meant to insinuate that Roman Catholics 
do, the insinuation is untrue. When Christ changed the 
name of Simon to Peter, or rock, He declared that upon 
that rock He would build His church, and that the gates 
of hell should not prevail against it. 1 Roman Catholics- 
believe that our blessed Lord did build His Church upon 
that Peter or rock, by making Peter its first chief pastor 
after His own ascension ; but he never desired the people 
to build their faith or belief upon that rock, but upon 
Jesus Christ Himself. When a Roman Catholic makes an 
act of faith, he declares that he believes the articles of 
his religion because God has revealed them ; and thus the 
truth of God is the foundation of his faith. Christ then 
built the Church upon St. Peter, but Roman Catholics 
build their faith upon the Saviour Himself. 

Eusebius principally used the compilation of Julianas 
Africanus, and the history of the Church written by St. 
Hegesippus, the former in his chronicle, the latter, so far 
as it came, viz., to the year 170, in his history; but he 
had also in his possession the writings of the various 
authors above quoted, most of which he cites himself. I 
would then ask what is to be thought of a man who, like 
this Monsieur Blanc, boldly makes a grossly untrue asser- 
tion viz., that Eusebius only copied Clement of Alex- 
andria, on this subject, Clement having only copied Papias, 
and Papias only writing upon a hearsay about eighty years 
after the death of Peter? Will not all conclude with me, 

' Matt, xvi, 18. 


even before examining the subsequent writers, that this 

Frenchman was either very ignorant or I shall not 

write the alternative? I do not like to call men who 
differ from me beasts, idolaters, unhallowed usurpers, de- 
luders, babblers, unblushing liars, and such other names. I 
am not sufficiently polished for this; I am a plain repub- 
lican ; I do not like to call nick-names, though I 
might see that a man writes what he ought not. The 
history of Eusebius was brought down to the epoch of 
the defeat of Licinius, in 323 ; all the authorities which I 
have quoted, hitherto, were anterior to this event. 


The essayist concedes- to us, from that period forward, 
the host of writers who admit the truth of the fact. 
However, this concession is made with a very bad grace, 
for, in the first place, it is asserted that in obedience to 
a decision of the Council of Trent, their works have been 
garbled, and in the next place, that the ancient and 
modern authors who have copied from Eusebius were gen- 
erally too much interested to render the fact credible. I 
have already disposed of this first statement. 

I shall here make what appears to me a very natural 
observation. It is conceded by the essayist that at the 
early period of the fourth century it was publicly stated 
that St. Peter suffered martyrdom in Rome. He would 
not, I presume, deny that the Bishops of Rome did at 
that period claim a supremacy in the Church, because of 
their being the successors in his See. He would not, I 
suppose, deny that then, and for many years after, several 
bishops and their flocks not only submitted to that claim, 
but strenuously supported it. Consequently, is it not pass- 
ing strange, that from the mass of ancient authors he 
cannot cite one passage to question the truth of what all 
the ancient writers assert? Surely the Council of Trent, 
which was opened in 1545, could not have purged the 


Fathers before the time of Arius in 320, of Macedonius 
in 360, of Nestorius in 430, of Eutyches in 450, of 
Heraclius in 640, of Constans in 668, of Leo the Isaurian 
in 740, or of Photius in 880. All those men and their 
followers and adherents opposed the Bishops of Rome, and 
were condemned by those prelates. Yet not one syllable 
do they urge in denial of the martyrdom of Peter at 
Rome ; not one of them attempts to deny the notorious 
fact that the Bishops of that See were, in their episcopacy 
thereof, the successors of that Apostle. I presume we shall 
not be told that those opponents were interested in making 
it credible. 

Shall we be told that the prelates, the divines, and the 
critics of the Protestant Church of England are interested 
in rendering it credible? No nation, no Church, can boast 
of brighter genius, more varied talent, deeper erudition, 
and more general scholarship, than is to be found in the 
ratio of their numbers in that national Church. It is true 
that in the fury of their early efforts against Popery, as 
was the phrase of the day, neither John Knox in Scot- 
land nor the Mussulman in the East made a more holy 
havoc of the documents of ancient days. As the Bible 
with the one and the Koran with the other Avere the only 
books which contained true knowledge, and were worthy of 
the believer's attention, so after being stripped of the 
mammon of iniquity with which their covers and cases 
were enriched, whole hecatombs of ungodly parchments were 
offered as holocausts to the spirit of innovation. Yet still, 
as the "monkish" collection was immense, and the zeal of 
the ravagers was after a time restrainei, the learned men, 
who subsequently arose in the English Church, had ample 
opportunities for indulging their critical and antiquarian 
research. To the testimony of Archbishop AVake, Bishop 
Pearson, Dodwell, Cave, and a host of this description, I 
would merely add the following remark of the acute 
Winston : 

" Mr. Bower, with some weak Protestants before him, 
almost pretended to deny that St. Peter was ever in 


Rome; concerning which matter take my own former words 
out of my three Tracts, p. 53. Mr. Baratier proves most 
thoroughly, as Bishop Pearson lias done before him, that 
St. Peter was at Rome. This is so clear in Christian 
antiquity, that it is a shame for any Protestant to con- 
fess that any Protestant ever denied it. This partial pro- 
cedure demonstrates that Mr. Bower has by no means got 
clear of the prejudices of some Protestants, as an impar- 
tial writer of history, which he strongly pretends to be, 
ought to do, and has in this case greatly hurt the Pro- 
testant cause instead of helping it." x 

Baratier was an eminent Protestant divine, whose dis- 
sertation was printed at Utrecht in 1740. It is entitled 
"A Chronological Inquiry about the most ancient Bishops 
of Rome, from Peter to Victor." In it he demonstrates 
the fact which had been so ably exhibited in the learned 
dissertation of Bishop Pearson. 

Will it be pretended then that English, French and 
German Protestant divines are interested in rendering this 
fact credible? The Rev. M. Blanc is not more opposed 
to the See of Rome than they were ; the Christian Advo- 
cate is not more inimical to what he and they call Popery 
than were those writers. But they were men who had 
read extensively and searched deeply upon the subject. 

I shall now adduce the testimony of men whom the 
essayist would, perhaps, with some show of ground, assert 
were interested, because they were Roman Catholics. Are 
we then to reject the evidence furnished by the best wit- 
nesses of the brightest days of Christianity merely because 
it will lead to a conclusion at which some gentlemen do 
not choose to arrive? 

St. Epiphanius was born at Eleutheropolis, in Palestine, 
in the year 310. In his youth he closely studied the 
Hebrew, the Egyptian, the Syriac, the Greek, and the 
Latin languages, for the purpose of being better able to 

>Mem. of his own life, p. 599. 


study the Holy Scriptures. He retired into a monastery in 
the desert of Egypt, whence he returned to Palestine in 
333, and built a monastery near the place of his birth, 
in which his time was divided between labor, study and 
prayer. About the year 367 he was chosen Bishop of 
Constantia, now Salamis, in the island of Cyprus. In 382 
he accompanied St. Paulinus of Nola to Home, during the 
pontificate of Damasus. Scarcely a book of note was to 
be found which he had not studied, and he had improved 
his reading by travel and observation. His death occurred 
in 403. In his account of the twenty-seventh heresy, which 
is that of Carpocrates, he distinctly states : " Peter and Paul 
were the first in Koine." He follows up the succession 
by stating : " The succession of Bishops in Rome had this 
consecution, Peter and Paul, Linus, Cletus, Clement, 
Evaristus, Alexander," &c. 

This is pretty strong testimony, given by a man of ex- 
tensive knowledge and reading, whose research was close 
and protracted, and whose opportunities were abundant and 

St. Jerome was born in the year 329 or 331, and lived 
to the year 420, enjoying extraordinary advantages of ex- 
tensive information in Home, in Palestine, and in various 
other places where the best opportunities of knowledge were 
to be found. He writes of himself: "When a boy I 
studied the liberal arts at Rome. I was wont to make a 
round to visit the tombs of the Apostles and Martyrs, 
with others of the same age and inclinations, and often to 
descend into the caves which are dug deep into the earth, 
and have for walls on each side the bodies of those that 
are interred there." 1 His close application to the study of 
the Holy Scriptures has never been exceeded, perhaps never 
equalled; no one better knew the whole range of ecclesias- 
tical affairs. In his notices of illustrious men we read the 
following brief but emphatic and explicit testimony : 

iLib. 12, c. 40, Ezcch. 


" Simon Peter went to Rome in order to vanquish 
Simon Magus, and there he held the sacerdotal Chair 
during twenty-five years, that is, to the fourteenth or last 
year of Nero, by whom he was fastened to the Cross, and 
suffered martyrdom, with his head down towards the earth." 

In his epistle to Marcella we read the following testi- 
mony regarding Rome, which, however, as the centre of 
former pagan infidelity, he styles the Babylon of the 
Apocalypse : " There exists the Holy Church ; there are the 
trophies of the Apostles and of the martyrs, there the true 
confession of Christ, there too the faith preached by the 
Apostle, and the Christian name daily raising itself on 
high, having trodden on the Gentile system." 

In his epistle I to Pope Damasus, the 37th Bishop of 
Rome, concerning the name hypoatasls, he has the follow- 
ing testimony : " I speak with the successor of the fisher-