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Sate i3i{i{)op of AvDagl^, A!»B APOiTOLIC BELBOATK TO CA.NADA A.M) .MiWFOl..-,« ij" and by the sanctity of his cause and he Luenceol tis appeal, find a way to the heart of his heam-s And so he became skilled in the art of oratory of wb^i, » f specimens will be found in this volumT "^ this ofece of secretary— for which hi<, pT^rlarif V able manners, his br^t dispositio^ tfh s'^oliS varied learning singularly fitted himLthe chap a ncv rf cSa teo^gh^s -irr ^-^^^'^ ^vith the present l3 ^Zp of Ost^t tC d f ** ship of the £!ccksm9f;r«/ 7? J„ j "ssory m the editor- expressed nts mot o rrf'pJ^T "• "! ™^ ^^ ^«" '""''-; '"'? dignity seemed nearer to him ■L-r. Kieran, rumour had it, and those best competent to SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. tell made it known, that Dr. Conroy was, by the almost unanimous consent of the ecclesiastical body of Armagh, destined to rule over his native diocese. There is a curious history in connection with this part of the present memoir, to which the future ecclesiastical historian may deem it right to refer, and which proves how inscrutable are God's ways. At present we shall only say that twice did Providence seem on the very point of entrusting great dignities to Dr. Conroy, which he was not destined to enjoy— one was the occasion just referred to, and the other was when, after having been raised to the rank of A.postolic Delegate, when everything occurring around him, and every one who witnessed his ability and success, promised him the highest favours the Pope could bestow, death put an end to his career. His appointment to the See of Ardagh quite took him by surprise. But few, indeed, considered that he should succeed the late bishop, Dr. M'Cabe. He was at break- fast one morning, not thinking he should soon quit Dublin for ever, when the Cardinal made known to him that already the appointment had been made. He was consecrated in St. Mel's Cathedral, Longford, on April 11th, 1871. The consecrating prelate was Cardinal Cullen. The cathedral was decorated in a most superb fashion. Appropriate flags and banners waved from the Ionic columns ; the sanctuary was ablaze with all the ornamentation that could be procured. Never did that noble, severe Grecian temple look to such advantage, and never was it seen so gay and joyous and bright, and yet so ecclesiastical, as on that Easter Tuesday. Its young bishop, with his thirty-nine summers on his still fresh brow, his quick step, his bright, flashing eye, seemed destined to outlive his generation. And when one heard his well-attuned voice, and watched his graceful bearing, and took in his eloquent words at the evening's banquet, he was glad to think that now, indeed, was at hand the reversal of the story that Ardagh never gave to its spiri- tual rulers length of days. Few amongst that gathering — the flower of the diocese — could let in the thought that even in this case the story would receive but another confirmation. le almost Armagh, ere is a e present rian may scrutable tiat twice itriisting destined and the rank of J around success, . bestow, ook him e should t break- t Dublin lim that ongford, ate was 1 a most 5 waved ze with 3ver did ,'antage, ;ht, and ly. Its his still seemed e heard )earing, anquet, and the ;8 spiri- 3ring — ht that mother SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 5 For six years from that day till his appointment as Delegate Apostolic, he laboured zealously but unosten- tatiously for his flock. He appeared amongst his priests and people, ever guiding them with a strong hand, and yet m such a way as to seem rather their willing fellow- labourer than their chief. He believed in the maxim that— * " Man should be taught as if you taught him not, And things unknown proposed as things forgot." His gentleness of character did not abandon him even m strained and tangled circumstances ; like the dew that in secret fertilizes whilst the rain-storm ruins, he spoke the mild word that breaketh wrath ; he loved to appeal to the inner heart ; he made his advice fatherly, and his iDtereourse genial, and his exhortation winning : and so without ceasing to be the ruler that he was, he won the affections of his flock. He used to say, that to a bishop his seminary was as the apple of his eye. To this, therefore, he applied himself with all the energy of his character. St. Mel's College, Longford, is a building not unworthy of a Catholic diocese. The great Dr. Kilduff, whose memory is still fresh in a grateful people, founded and endowed it.^ The former he did with tha co-operation of priests and people, the latter he did from his own private means. Dr. Conioy saw that in the seminary of his diocese he had the materials in his hands of advancing Catholic and educational interests. It was for him who now inherited the riches which the toil of his predecessors had amassed, to carry out what had been so well begun. He accord- ingly spared no labour to make his seminary a flourishing institution. At first, whilst he lived in the college, and afterwards, when he might be seen to drive each day from the bishop's house in Newtownforbes, he was to be found continually in the class-halls, or amongst the students in the play-ground, or with the Professors— teaching, ad- vising,^ consulting—showing by every word and act how ucar tno work was to him, and how he strove for its success. There were those, indeed, who considered his 6 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. i rf Yn^W ,'T'"*' ^"^y^" ?™««oned the prudence 01 turning a diocesan seminary into a eoUeee of hiV'npr S'wTs' nf S- ^^ "V^^ -ainZedte: S^n T- POf W|' *at .™eh was the mind of the authorities fn P ' '^^ wi "l'' ™^^ '^"'^ *«™" ^"i the reason^ it connnA I^'^^.'T ""^ ^"^ *«"«" »* t^is d ti ? V '^™™* lie denied that his college was always foil, that he was able to send to the Prowlanda and to Maynopth, and to the Catholic UniverX^Tom'e of tl e Ifid tn Its hi'!'' " ^^" " ^'"'^^'^^«'^^' ^^"-«»-' at^rrnlrd'^t'1.T/'''''\'*°°'' throughout the diocese, ea.h ht ' • . ?'''"y™''l'»n, and at Athlone, and over each he appointed a priest. ii on-i Act' thl^^T"''^ '^n^ *"' ^"^"^ a« Interm.- Jiate ed^^ catT™ i T r^ '*'" "^r? '" ""•* *» intermediate was the\S>, ''™*'^' T l-e^S "onceiyed, Dr. Conroy mi 1? ^''I' '^'"' ^l""" *•»<= minister, Sir Michael Hicks Beach, treated; and that his scholarship and elo quent statement of Catholic claims made i cCto the wi^hCaT-1 '"^■'^ J^eaconsfield that any in erferenco ^e tolerated "^""^ ^""''^ ^^ ^J'"^*' ""'J '^'^^^ ^"^ SiSL^Tt* P*"' ^'1"'? "' ^"''y '» Ballymahon, the S strs to fwfr"*??"" *° ^^'"'"•''' »"•! tl^" M^rist oisters to Camck-on-Shannon; and, in so doing ho toThfsckST ■'"*''' '^^'''^ 0* *" P«-' »-"*tio" q:f'^prtho-r ^:dtt^^^^^^^^^^ .??rnote:rr:irc:it':''' *« *- -''° - 'w^ In the year 1876, Cardinal Franchi came to Dublin bLsh^'oTri^^rS'^ht' ^""™' ""-^ tookpart 3 6taTn^ll,.nl°f 1 1°""«" ^■'"P"'- »"™S h« ^hort May in Ireland he had many opportunities of makine the acquaintance of the Bishop of Arda.'h A Tilf>r?,i;, cemer of character, the Prefect of L Propatuda was" considered to be. He went hncV tn p„„„ S i . " viction that there was in the fehind ofthat dj, ^s weU SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 7 as in the Ireland of fomer times, the maieivA out of which might be moulded the fitting representative of the Pope m foreign countries. He made known to his Emi- nence of Dublin that he would represent to the Holy Father, the heroic Pius IX., that Dr. Conroy was exactly such a prelate as should be despatched to Malabar to settle some difficulties that had existed there. This was kept secret from the principal persons concerned till the March of the following year, iv^hen a summons came for his presence in Eome. On his appearance there, Canada was given to him as his delegation, and he had no hesitation m selecting it: its climate, he thought, would better suit him than any to be found in the East. On the 10th of April, 1877, after several interviews with the Holy Father, who in one of these audiences told him he was, no doubt, accepting office without having desired it, and even against his will, but yet that it was necessary sacrifices should be made fo^ Holy Church; after receiving instructions from Cardinal Franchi, and the Cardinal's encouraging assurance that, notwithstanding his (Dr. Conroy's) diffidence, he must succeed, and that the Propaganda would give him all the assistance in its power, he took his departure from Eome, armed with the powers of Apostolic Delegate. The following is a copy of his brief of appointment, and it will be seen that his powers and jurisdiction were most ample : PIUS PP. IX. Venerabili Fratri Georoio Conroy Episcopo Ardaoadensi. Venerahilis Fratkr, Salutem rt Apostomcam Benedictionem. Antiquissimi moris in Ecclesia est, ut Romani Pontifices, quo recte func^antur comniissio sibi Apostolatus officio, habeant in dissitis loois, sub varus nominibus, Ecclosianticos viros aut ex Pro- vinciiB Episcopis selecfcos, aut ab Lac Alma Urbo missos, qui ea qua par est .lunsdictione muniti, suas illio vices obeant, et fidei incre- mento morum puritati, canonum observantise, Cleri, Populique discipline solerter advigilent. Itaque cum res Ecclesiastics in tanadoe regionibus eo in statu versentur, ut peculiarem Sanctro liujus bedis sohcitudinem omnino expostnlent, Nos cum Venera- bilibus Iratribus Nostris S. R. E. Cardinalibus ne^otiJs Pr..nao-an,1.« I'ldei pn«pos.t]s communicata re seduloquo perp'ensa, in e'am sen- tentiam devenimus, ut Delegatum Apostolicum in eaa regiones 8 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. raitteremus, qui earnmdem statum cognoscere accurate valeat, con- troversias et quoestiones pro sua prudentia et arbitrio componere eatagat, qujB vero praviora videantur, et medica Sanctse huius Stdis manu ommno egeant, ad Nos diligenter referre maturet. Quse cum ita smt, ab quibusvis excommunicationis et interdicti, aliisque eccles- lasticis sententns, censuris, et pcenis quovis modo vel quavis de causa latis quas si forte incurreris, hujus tantum rei gratia Te absol- ventes ac absolutum fore censentes, Te, Venerabilis Frater, qui rehgionis dilatandw studio, pietate, doctrina, et in gerendia rebus prudentia egregie prroter ceteros commendaris, de Venerbilium quos raemoravimus iratrum Nostrorum consilio, auctoritate Nostra Apostohca tenore prajsentium Uelegati Apostolici pro regione Cana- densi ad Nostrum et Sanctis hujus Sedis beneplacitum, titulo, 3uribus, honoribus, ac privilegiis augemus et decoramus ; itemque smgulas atque universas Tibi facultates necessarias et opportunas tribuimus atque impertimus quibus prseditus Ecclesiarum Canadse. quas descnpsimus, necessitatibus ac bono consulere possis et valeas. Atenimyolumus,utofficiumTuum exerceas juxta mandata, quro eorumdem Veneraoihum Fratrum Nostrorum Congregatio Tibi de- dent, ac non modo Dioecesibus Inferioris et Superioris Canadse, sed etiam totius dominationis Canadfe, nee non Dicecesibus quse in insula Terras NovjB sitte sunt, Nostro et Sanctie hujus Sedis nomine atque auctorifcite prssis. Ceterum non dubitamus quin Venerabiles bmtres Archiepiscopi et Bpiscopi, item Clerus, Populusque earum regionum, Te Nostrum et Sanctte hujus Sedis Delegatim debita reverentia et obseqmo sint prosequnturi, atque in Delegate Dele- gantis auctoritatem suscipientes, illius conscilio, monitis, mandatis, prompta ammi voluntate obtemperaturi. Ha3c volumus, mandamus prsecipimus ; decernentes prajsentes Nostras Litteras firmas validas et efhcaces existere et fore, suosque plenarios et integros effectus sortiri ac obtmere, et ab iis ad quos pertinent pertineriutve inviola- biiiter observan, sicque in pra^missis per quoscunque Indices et delegatos etiam causarum Palatii Apostolici Auditores iudicari et dehniri debere, atque irritum et inane, si secus super his a quoquam quavis auctoritate scienter vel ignoranter contigerit attentari. Non obstante, quatenus opus sit, Benedicti XIV. Prajdecessoris Nostri rec. mem. super Divisione Matm, aliisque Apostolicis ac synodali- bus, proyinc.alibusque et universalibus conciliis editis generalibus vel specialibus Constitutionibus et ordinationibus, quibus omnibus et Bingulis, illorum tenores pra^sentibus pro plene et sufficienter ex- pressis ac de verbo ad verbum insertis habentes, illis alias in suo pnpnl^lf 'T"'""'' ^^/'*'"'^''°™™ effectum hac vice dumtaxant epecialiteretexpresse derogamus, ceteris contrariis quibuscunque. Volumus denique, ut prarsentium Litterarum transumptis seu^xl bS o vtfl^'^.T''''; ™^r ^^i'T' ^"*^"^ P^blici subscriptis et 8 gillo viriin Ecclesiastica dignitatc constituti munitis, eadem pror- Rom^ a'nud s''p"f '"" ^dhiberetur ipis preesentibus. dL" MDCCrr XYVri P "".-r^ ^^r^"" Piscatoris die X. Aprilis. MULOCLXXVII. Pontificatus Nostri Anno Trigesimo primo. (Locus Sigilli.) F. Card. Asqdinius. 8H0RT MEMOIK OF THE AUTHOR. 9 On the 24th of April, Dr. Conroy returned to his diocese, not to enjoy the quiet of home, but rather en route for his distant mission. He received an affectionate address from his priests, in replying to which he was unusually sad and quite overcome with emotion, as if he had a presentiment that he was speaking to them for the last time and was parting with them for ever. He promulgated the decrees of the National Synod of May- nooth, m which he took a leading part as secretary. He entrusted the government of his diocese to his Vicar- General, Very Rev. X. OTlanagan, who, he announced, had from the Pope the powers of an Apostolic Adminis- trator. He procured the assistance of his esteemed and faithful friend, the present Bishop of Achonry, Most Eev. Dr. M'Cormack, for the Confirmations ;— it was during these Confirmations the clergy became so conver- sant with the virtues, the learning, and general excellence of Dr. M'Cormack's life and character, that they after- wards sent forward his name to Eome for the appoint- ment to the vacant See. He paid a hurried visit to his parents, whom he loved and honoured with the ten- derest affection ; he took with him, as secretary, the Eev. P. Eeddy, at present the esteemed P.P. of Kilronan, and embarked at Queenstown on April 29th, 1877. A remarkable story is told of him as he quitted Dublin for Queenstown. A number of relatives and attached friends accompanied him to the lung's Bridge. As he entered tlie carriage, they offered him their sincere good wishes, and promised their prayers ; and, as the whistle was sounded, and the train was on its way, he called to one of his friends and said : "Do you see all these kind, good friends, whose sympathy I have and of whose esteem and honour I am justly proud. They have come lor my funeral." The first act of the Delegate Apostolic was the con- secration of the Archbishop, Most Eev. Dr. Hannon of Halifax ; and the life of Dr. Conroy, from this period, belongs to the Ecclesiastical History of Canada and iNewfouudland. He was well received everywhere, even from his landing, and as time went on, and the bishops 10 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. became acquainted with his kind and conciliating dis- position, he began to grow into his place as representative of the Pope. The people were charmed with his simple eloquence, and they seemed to recognise in his discourses new evidences of the Church's greatness. Addresses of welcome and loyalty were read to His Excellency, as he was now called, in every town through which he passed. The chief men of Canada, clerical and Ipy, came to offer homage to his person and his office. He presided at the sacred functions ; as Delegate he had precedence of all the archbishops and bishops. It was a matter of wonder to all how he could have addressed^ sometimes in Latin, sometimes in French, sometimes in English, the mcny deputations thac waited on him. For each he had an immediate reply— at once elegant, solid, appropriate, and to the point — which proved him worthy of his new po- sition. In Quebec and in Montreal, where he resided for a time, he was regarded with the utmost veneration, and even admiration; and every manifestation that the people could make of their respect and attachment to the man, and the bishop, and the Pope's representative, was right willingly resorted to. From Canadian arch- bishops, who represented the old French noblesse ; from Irishmen and Scotchmen, who boasted oi Celtic blood and genius ; from the Iroquois Indians, whose forefathers put to death the sons of Ignatius in their efforts to plant the cross amongst them ; from the representative of English royalty who opened the banqueting-rooms of Government House to his illustrious fellow-country- man, from fellows of universities, from the outcast Magdalen, from prisoners in their cells, from the poor and wretched and forlorn, from all he received words of affectionate greeting at first, and then, as he was better known, assurances of grateful esteem and high approval. It was well known that the Cardinal Prefect of the Propaganda was exceedingly pleased at his success. The Delegate wrote from Montreal in 1877 : " I received from the Holy See the most encouraging letterSj in which the Holy Father condescends to manifest his sovereign satis- SHORT MEMOIR OP THE AUTHOR. 11 fection with what has been done since I came to Canada Nothing can impair the completeness of the approval mv poor labours have received." What was the precise benefit he had brought to the Church in Canada, or the changes he had made m its working, or the differences hehad gently smoothed over, or whether the fruit he sowed still remams we have no means of knowing; nor does the nature of his mission permit the veil to be rudely Med But history ^yill record two facts— at presen^ they do not require proof. First, no representative of a sovereign received a more cordial welcome, or more sincere congratulations, and (as time went on) more un- mistakable proofs o: access. Secondly, in all his negotiations, even those that were the most delicate and the most embarrassing, and in all his arrangements and judgments, he showed consummate tact, varied learning, undoubted prudence, even-handed justice, and the most painstaking concern for the interests entrusted to him. A ^^ rj ?""* ^ "'^'^ ''^ ^^^' ^^i% could satisfy the demands that were made upon him. In satisfying them he seemed only to have to draw upon an illimitable re' soui'ce : certainly, none other but a cultured mind could have given the means to acquit himself as he did In the beginning of the following year, 1878, after spendmg eight months of incessant toil, he left Canada on a tour thi-ough the States. He had received from tne IloySee several important commissions. In exe- cuting them, he proceeded slowly through the different cities, and as he went on his long journey towards the racihc, he was beset with invitations to lecture and to preach When any great charity was to be advanced, he willmgly gave his advocacy. He was presented with addresses by the American priests who studied with • "^ff ^"■^^''^'^S ''''^ ^y *^°^^ ^^0 studied under him m All-Hallows College at home. Eeceptions were given m his honour ; and he said that the costly banquets jktt^ organised to bid him welcome were more fatiguinsmaii ^^o . the hard work at Montreal. Except one week £ax he X<^\ devoted to a spiritual retreat in Woodstock Cdilege, iu','! r: \ the heart of the forest, where he put himself uid,^ thf 054 " 1 i&ai 12 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. care of a Jesuit, for many years confessor to Leo XIII., his journey was full of labour. At San Francisco he received a brilliant reception from Archbishop Allemani, his priests, and people, and from liis former confrere at All-Hallows, Bishop O'Connell. The Delegate was greatly struck with the natural beauty of the country, the growing prosperity of the Catholic Church, and the results of Catholic education, as well as the teeming plenty that everywhere met his eye. He wrote to a friend: "This valley of Santa Clara is the most fertile spot on earth. Literally, it is overflowing with corn and wine. The sun is always bright, and the sky ever clear." We must not omit to give here, as a specimen of some hundred others, an address presented to him by the Students of St. Mary's College, San Francisco, and the Delegate's reply. The latter, though made impromptu, is characteristic of his style ; and the two great springs of thought that, with him, ever gushed into eloquence — Faith and Country — ai-e availed of with profit, and are seen to advantage. A mind less keen than his could not help admiring the free religion and free education he found around him ; how he did yearn to breathe the same in his own country these lines eloquently tell : Address to his Excellency. May it Please yoitr Excellency, — We, the students of St, Mary's College, the pupils of the venerable De La Salle, beg leave to approach your Excellency in a spirit of the most profound respect and veneration for your sacred character, and to assure your Excel- lency that we regard your visit as the most distinguished honour that could be conferred upon us. Under any circumstances, the presence amongst us of a dignitary of our Holy Mother, the Church, would demand an expression of our reverence and homage; but in your Excellency we recognise not only the sacred character and high dignity of bishop, but the chosen counsellor of the Holy See, and the special envoy of the Vicar of Christ. We feel, in the presence of your Excellency, encouraged as we are by the approving smile of our dear and venerated Archbishop, the father of the Church in California, and in the presence of another distinguished bishop, and so many zealous pastors of the Church, that we are brought nearer the chair of Peter, and more under the direct influ- ence of the paternal care of the Holy Father. Your Excellency is SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 13 his mouthpiece, his messenger of peace and reconciliation, the exe- cutor of his mature deliberations and wise conclusions ; and mindful as we are of the high esteem in which our late Holy Father held the American Church, and his tender solicitude for the welfare of Catholic youth and Catholic education, we cannot adequately ex- press the reverence, gratification, and joy that fill our hearts in the presence of your Excellency, who was his confidant and is the angel of his love and good-will. There are other sentiments which bid us rejoice on this occasion. Your Excellency is a distinguished re- presentative of the glorious hierarchy of that old nation which is the home of the love and the afflictions of the ancestors of most of us. Our mothers have breathed into our hearts, with their caresses, the same respect, reverence, and love for the Church and its ministers, that the labours, sacrifices, and sufferings of the priest- hood of Ireland have made part of their nature; and they have comiTiitted us to the care of the sons of De La Salle, that while we acquire science, art, and literature, we may know their true inspira- tion, the principles that called them into being, and be able to give a reason for the faith that is in us. As Catholic students, and humble votaries of science, your Excellency is also endeared to us by your extensive knowledge of the laws of physics, and the happy facility with which you have moulded missiles aimed by so-called scientists for the destruction of religion, into an additional buttress of the Church of God. Your Excellency, the Catholic sons of the Golden "West bid you welcome. Here, at America's uttermost bounds of the boundless kingdom of the Church, by the sun-set sea; within the hearing of the solemn throbs of the Pacific, which, in its immensity, grandeur, and calmness so well typifies the power your Excellency represents ; here are young Catholic hearts true to the old faith, and to the traditions of their fathers : and we assure your Excellency that, in your travels throughout our vast country, none can greet you with a more heartfelt welcome than the students of St. Mary's. May we ask your Excellency, in the deepest sincerity of our souls, to present to his Holiness Leo XIII. the offering of the love and attachment of the Catholic youth of California, whom we re- present on this festive occasion. And may it please your Excellency to say to his Holiness that in the Western world there are none more attached to his person, none more firmly connected with the light, truth, and unity, than the students of St. Mary's College. Reply of Dr. Coxrot. My Students, — I receive with pleasure the address with which you welcome me to this College. "While I thank his Grace the Archbishop for the kind thought of honouring in my humble person the supreme authority of the Apostolic See, I congratnlate him on having been able to offer to-day to the Holy See a tribute of praise not unworthy of its majesty. In these days the reverence of all 14 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. If m Christendom is directed towa^'ds Rome, and the whole Catholio Church, like the wine men of the Gospel, is bringing forth from Ler *' treasury old things and new," wherewith to honour Peter in the person of his latest successor, Leo. It is a pleasing sight to behold the bishops of countries made great by centuries of ancient civilisa- tion, thanking the new-made Pontiff for the benefits conferred upon the nations by the beneficent power of which he is now the deposi- tary. But I think a still more touching tribute is that which your bishop offers to-day in pledging to it, as he has done here to-day, the promise of the future. Since I have come to this country, I have observed with interest the various features of your national life, which, in a sufficiently extended survey, fell on my notice, and I was glad to read in them the promise of a greater destiny. I found it to be the noble characteristic of an American citizen that he loves not merely liberty, but a well-ordered liberty. Now, the very essence of well-ordered liberty consists in due respect for the rights of all, alike of the governors and of the governed, and the laws framed to make rights respected, find their best, I had almost said their only efficient, sanction in religion. The Christian theory in civil allegiance would have man obey, not from fear, but for con- science' sake. Now to us, who know that religion is not a vague sentiment, or a floating opinion, but a well-defir> ed body of truth set forth by the living Church, built, as upon a ro^k, upon Peter and his successors, there can be no surer guarantee of the future strength of a nation than that its sons should be devoted by con- viction and by affection to the centre of unity, the Apostolic See. No nobler tribute, therefore, could be offered to the Roman Pontifi- cate than has been given to-day by this band of American youth, strong in their faith, and in their attachment to his person. For a richer offering cannot be made by youth to the Pontiff, and the homage of a cultured intellect, and of unfeigned affection nobler still, is this tribute when it comes from the growing city of San Francisco. For not Venice, when she became the centre of Eastern commerce, nor Genor , when she rivalled her sister city, ever held in the history of the '.I'orld a position of such importance as that created for San Francisco ; for, seated on the highway o ? commerce, at the gate of the two v/orlds, she is destined to exercise an incpj- culable influence on both. You were pleased to address me p.ldo, as a representative of the Irish Catholic Church, and I cnnfess that your words, most agreeable to me as they otherwise were, have awakened in me a feeling akin to sadness. I cannot help contrast- ing the scenes that I now witness with that which I have so often beheld in the capital of my beloved native land. There, as here, I have rejoiced to see the sons of Irish fathers, true to the best in- stincts of their race, throng the halls of the noble institutions which Catholic Ireland has created, and year by year endows, to be for her people a centre of intellectual life made perfect by religious truth. There, as here to-day, I have noted in the Irish student the flashing eye that tells of intellectual power ; and I have felt how masterful in their eloquence and young voices they are when their theme is SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 15 God, or their country, or the truth of science But at this point unhappily the parallel ceases. I know that this college, notwith- fitai.ding that it lifts on its summit high over the Pacific water the Cross of Christ; notwithstanding that its directors are men vowed to the religious hfe; is yet a chartered university, recognised by the State, and entitled to confer on its students those academic honours which are among the most precious rewards of scholarship. I know- chat its students can pass at ones from its halls to make their way in the liberal professions, without first having been forced to wrest a degree fromother universities whose office it is to kill the Church's faith m men s souls. There is no hateful monopoly here created by 3ealous statecraft to secure and perpetuate the ascendancy of a handful of citizens over the gnat mass of the nation. Not so in Ireland. There the htah> refuses to take any xiotice of the splendid efforts made in the cause of education by a people by no means rich in the subjtance of th is world. There you may see the amaz- inr spectacle of two paralU'l systems of education which absolutely Ignore et^h other. One, the creation of the nation, the other the handicraft of the civil power, and the two divide everything between them, but in such wi,-- ihat one possesses the con.'^dence and affec- tion of the masses of the people, while the other wields the patronage of the State With you, when a student claims an academical degree, the State does not ask him where he has studied, or by what process he has been taught, but what he knows; and if it should find m him gifts and acquirements such as are calculated to make hini eminently useful in liis generation, it will rot refuse to ro^yard him for his years of study because he has choren to add re- ligion to his science by making a Catholic college his alma mater, Jiut, it what I have seen here and in other similar institutions in America has somewhat saddened me, it has also taught me a lesson whica I hope I shall never forget. It has given me fresh courage to hght, as becomes an Irish Catholic bishop, the battle of Catholic education in Ireland, and to strive to win for Irishmen at home whPt enhghtened Governments have right willingly conceded to J.-ishmen abroad— facilities to educate their children in religion as Tlu o? f ^'f °«^- I* ^^^ *a"glianada to assist at the Synod of Quebee. He hoped, after that, his mission would be completed. He had 16 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. n n asked the Holy See for leave to return home, " but at Eome," as he said, " they lent a deaf ear." In a letter, ■written home from Chicago in May, he said : " I am somewhat tired now after my long journey from San Francisco to this city. Five days and nights of unbroken railway travelling is a little hard. In any other landj and among any other surroundings, it would have been intolerable." A short time after assisting at the Synod he set out for Newfoundland. He was going from California, with its bright sun and its clear air, to the land of fogs, and damp, and chills, and, alas ! for our fondest hopes and our grandest achievements, this journey was to close his earthly career. He was the guest of the Eight Eev. Dr. Power, Bishop of St. John's, with whom he had been once associated in Holy Cross College, Dublin. The same joyous, glorious receptions were given to the Dele- gate Apostolic here as in Canada ; in the same brilliant style did he acquit himself ; and to the Catholic Church in that portion of the earth came the same peace and hope. The Delegate had run his course ; the change of climate began to tell on a frame weakened by long travel, great anxiety, and hard work ; congestion of the lungs attacked him ; and, though doctors and everyone thought him seriously ill, no one feared that he would die. After battling with the disease for a foi (night, he was allowed to change his room for one that commanded a view of the sea ; he was, in fact, considered convales- cent. Two devoted Sisters of Mercy nursed him through his illness, and we have the following account of his last moments from one of thL-ni : " Everything promised well tiU Sunday, August 4th, when ho seemed unusually strong. He talked and laughed. He sent me to assist the choir at the High Mass, the music of which was sup- plied by the nuns. When I returned, he was up. I said to him, ' My Lord, I think St. Dominick is continuing what St. Ignatius began ? ' It was on the Feast of St. Ignatius he began to recover. *Yes,' he said, * and St. Mary will crown all.' The day passed agree- SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 17 ably till 5.30, p.m., when I said he should have his dinner He consented. Dinner was served by his ser- vant but before taking anything, he coughed a little, the breathing became quick and laboured, the extremities became cold and rigid. I lost no time in sending for his secretary. Father Ryan, S.J., his confessor, and the doc v."'""*.! In one half hour after they came, the dslegatehad breathed his last" So, on the 4th of August, on the day that he was declared by the doctors convalescent he died, uttering these memorable words : '' My God, accept the sacrifice of my life." The people of St. John's, who oved him and reverenced him, who unharnessed his hor->s and drew his carriage amidst cheers and exul- tations SIX weeks before, now carried his corpse, by the pale light of the moon, and the flickering of torches, to the steamer Caspian. His diocese in far-off Ireland brought all that remained of him home, and laid him to rest m the spot he loved, where an Irish cress tells his lito and deeds, and death, and where sainted, lo vino- hands make his grave ever fresh and radiant. The universal gloom that was the result of his death in Ireland and America, is understood, when one calls to mindthathediedfullof honours at the early age of forty- hve, m the midst of a career of splendour unequalled by any bishop of his age, and with the prospect of reachin- the highest dignities in the not-distant future : still more'' when we consider that all his administrative and iudicial arrangements in Canada and Newfoundland were likely to be overturned by his untimely death, and thus the same road would have to be travelled afresh by his successor. "^ His brothers in the Irish Episcopacy all can tell what a loss they sustained in his early death. , His learning and prudence, his quick discernment, his instinctive sense of Catholic truth, his far-reachirg views his skill in debate, and his facile pen at Synod or in council, have hit a void that is hard to fill. Only those who knew him can toll tho liar^ny b-i-h*- cheerful, sunny character that shone in his' socia'f Hf e! 3 18 SHORT MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. Cheerful and gay himself, he suffered no one to be of gloomy disposition ; kind, even to tenderness, he was the true type of the Christian father-of-the-family. He never patronised, he never assumed the role of the superior ; all were charmed with his refined manners ; all were de- lighted with his interesting conversation and his instruc- tive remarks. "With his priests around him, in his own immediate circle, he was the centre of playful humour, which was, by times, deep and sparkling, but never boisterous. When circumstances brought him into con- tact with the social life of men of repute in the world of letters, he was always able to make his influence prevail, and without in the smallest way lionising, he made him- self revered. The very model of a Catholic bishop, whilst he continued the citizen of the world, with large views, and a big heart, and a deep sympathy, he won his way to the hearts of those who before thought him an ordinary roan. Faults he had, as all the sons of men, but his excellences of character as a bishop, a scholar, and a friend, deserve a fitting recognition from all who love virtue, and truth, and charity. SERMONS. ST. KYEAN OF CLONMACNOIS. Solemn and touching is at all times the Catholic rite of dedi- cating churches to Almighty God, under the invocation of his samts Especially solemn, however, and especially touching is that rite as we have witnessed it here to-day, when almost within sight of the gray towers of Clonmacnoi^ a chuV h ha been dedicated in honour of its founder, St. Kyran, patron of this ancient diocese. _ The spirit of the place has added to the majesty of the religious ceremony a significance peculiarlv its P^^'f i-r '^-I"^ ^^'\'''' ^^'' P^^^^ of Clonmacnois/the Liu istmn lite, as it was understood and practised by our fatliers soine thirteen centuries ago, comes back upon us in the beauty tl!'n?T .''''T^^^^-P''^''*^^^' ^^^ from the very foundu- tions ot this temple spring memories that find for themselves a voice in column and arch and altar, until the entire edifice becomes eloquent of the sacred glories of ancient Ireland This IS, in very t^ruth^ a temple of God; dowered, as the Church mngs with the Father's glory, espoused in love to the rS Clnst radiant with the Spirit's gifts; but in it, as in tha whfch tTo^h- T'''^ fA^'^"" 'P'^^^' ^^'^'^ ^^« ''' "p « pillar ho vn of the living rock from out the kindly Irish earth • t u WeX^'f ^%"^ni"^^ '^'' ^"^^"^^ '^ I^^'^ -1-«I«- into ir • . """^'u^^^ Clonmacnois, whose heroic sanctity as 1 milk, priest, and abbot, made him what Alcuin styles him : the [lh>i'!l of the Irish race. ^ Other churches in honour of St. Kyran have been raised before now in the favoured spots of Ireland where he hnri^uc aiTdThp ni"''' wi ^"* 'T v""^ ^'^" 'P«i^^^''« ^'^"d wasted tirom, and the church that wo dedicate to-day is to take their vacanj 20 ST. KYRAn OF CLONMACNOIS. \ i: places. Their record, too, of the saint was but partial and fragmentary ; for the direct purpose of each was to commemo- rate chiefly that single phase of his life oi which its own site had been the scene : this new church will collect and revive the entire cycle of the memories that otherwise woald perish with their crumbling walls. Two years ago these hands laid as its foundation a stone reverently gathered from the old walls of Clonmacnois, and bearing engraved upon it the mystic sign of the Holy Trinity, which our Celtic f .thers loved to repeat in all their works. Springing thus from a sacred symbol, this church shall be a symbol itself, as a tree produces fruit after its kind ; and its office shall be twofold. It shall address itself to men and to God. To men it shall proclaim Ireland's abiding reverence for St. Kyran's virtues ; to God it shall speak Ireland's prayer for his intercession. Such a monument, and at this time, was demanded by the piety of Catholic Ireland. That St. Kyran's virtues should never be v,ithout honour in Ireland was announced to himsjlf thirteen centuries ago in Aran, when first he narrated to his beloved master, St. Enda, the vision that had been vouchsafed him of the future glories of Clonmacnois. He had seen the noble stream of Shannon flowing among these verdant plains, and on its banks a stately tree laden with leaves and fruits, and covering the land with its grateful shade. " That fruitful tree," explained St. Enda, " art thou thyself, for thou shalt be great before God and man, and shalt produce sweetest fruits of good works, and shalt be honoured throughout all Ireland." First fruits of these good works were the monastic virtues exercised by our saint in Aran. He entered that holy island in the bloom of his youth, and for the long years he sojourned there he was, as St. Enda described him, " the flower and strength of religious observance." His life was a pattern of humility. For seven years, well-born and scholarly as he was, he toiled with his hands at those labours which men commit to the least important of their servants. He would fain continue to the end in the practice of obedience ; and even when at length he was com- pelled to become the master of others, he prayed that he and his charge might still continue under the guidance of St. Enda. His austerity was marvellous. Lashed by the Atlantic waves, swept by the Atlantic blasts, the island of Aran was the home of penance and mortifl cation. Hundreds of Ireland's saints fled to it, as the anchorets had fled to the desert solitudes of the Thebaid. " Aran," says a recent writer,* " is no better than a wild rock. It is strewed over with the ruins, which may still * Froude : " Short Studiea," vol. ii., p. 216. ST. KYllAN OF CLONMACNOIS. 21 be seen, of the old hermitages ; and, at their best, they could have been but such places as sheep would huddle under in a storm, and shiver in the cold and wet which would pierce through the chicks of the walls. . . . Yes, there on that wet soil with that drippmg roof above them, was the chosen home of these poor men. Through winter frost, through rain and storm, through summer sunshine, generation after generation of them, there they lived and prayed, and at last laid down and died. Most fervent among these austere men was our St Jvyran, who made of his innocent body a martyr of penance" As day followed after day, and week after week, and month after month, for seven ong years, he ceased not to sacrifice his will by minutest obedience, his body by severe labour his repose by incessant prayer; and this with the flinty rock for his bed, with coarse and scanty food, in poor attire, exposed to frost and sun, buffeted by wind and snow. And as he was a miracle of humility and of penance, so also was he a miracle of sweetest chanty. As his penitential life tells eloquently of his love for God, so the story of his parting from his brethren, when he was cal ed away from Aran to Clonmacnois, as related m the ancient Life of St. Enda, is a proof of his lovin J heart towards men. As the boat that was to carry him to the banks o± the Shannon was spreading its sails to the breeze, St. Kvran came slowly down from his beloved cell, weeping and surrounded by his weeping brethren. Tenderly his gaze lingered on each fami bar sanctuary as he passed onwards to the beach, and there kneeling down, he asked for the last time the blessiag of the lather of his soul. In sign of the charity that filled their hearts, and of the brotherhood they had contracted between themselves and those who were to come after them, a cross was erected on the spot, and .he two samts said: "Whosoever in after times shall break the loving bond of this our brotherhood, shall not have share m our love on earth, nor in our compan ^ in heaven " I^ear to where that cross stood, a church was erected to com- memorate tlie virtues of St. Kyran as the perfect Religious, flf f?T f ^^7 J,^«^ted, and found a ruin. For centuries it told the history of St. Kyran's religious perfection ; and now that Its stones are scattered and its altar made desolate, would It not be a reproach to Irish Catholics if they were to allow to perish for ever the memories it was set up to record. Fro n such a reproach the church we have dedicated to-day has saved us. _ Ihese new wal 8 take up the testimony of those old ones in c^nJ"-"V^ /i!^^ "' ?^ ^^ P^^f^^* '^^^^ "^'^0 toilsomely ilere to-day we set up once again the cross which Enda and iiyran erected in Aran, as a pledge of brotherhood between 22 ST. KYKAN OF CLONMACNOIS. t! themselves and those who were to come after them. And by a sweet providence of God, and as if to declare this church heir to the office of that from which thirteen hundred years separate it, the Bishop who dwells nearest to St. Enda's Aran has come to Clonmacnois to-day, to join at the foot of that cross, in loving brotherhood and communion of sacrifice, him who, most un- worthily, holds there the place of St. Kyran. ^ ^ From Aran, St. Kyran came to this part of the valley oi tne Shannon, but not as yet to settle in Clonmacnois. He w^s now ii priest, and on the island of Inis-Oenghin, in Lough Ree, he ])ractised for eight or nine years the virtues of the perfect priest with as much fervour as he had practised on Aran those of the perfect monk. Surrounded now by disciples of his own, constituted a teacher of the faith and a dispenser of the sacra- ments, it was no longer permitted to him to shun altogether the concourse of men. But he did all that he could to guard from the world's tainted breath the gifts he had received and the souls that had been entrusted to his charge. St. Ambrose* describes to us the attractions which islands such as those that stud the noble expanse of Lough Ree possessed for the religious men of that age. They loved, he says, those islands " which, as a necklace of pearls, God has set upon the bosom of the waters, and in which those who would shun the pleasures of the world may find a refuge wherein to practise austerity, and save themselves from the snares of life. The water that encompasses them becomes, as it were, a veil to hide from mortal eye their deeds of penance ; it aids them to acquire perfect continence ; it feeds grave and sober thought ; it has the secret of peace ; it repels the fierce passions of earth. In it these faithful and pious men find incentives to devotion. The mysterious sounds of the waves call for the answering sound of sacred psalmody ; and the peaceful -oices of ^oly men, mingled with the murmur of the waters against the shore, rise harmonious to the heavens." Here, then, did St. Kyran lead the life of the perfect priest. Here did he practise the rule of a priest's life that had been given to him at Aran, which his fellow-student, St. Carthage, has written for us, and which tells of " the patience, humility, prayer, fast, and cheerful abstinence ; of the steadiness, modesty, calmness, that are due from a leader of religious men, whose office it is to teach, in all truth, unity, forgiveness, purity, recti- tude in all that is moral ; whose chief works are the constant preaching of the Gospel for the instruction of all persons, and the sacrifice of the Body of the great Lord upon the Holy Altar!" (Rule of St. Carthage.jf Here did he reach the per- • Hexcemeron : lib. 3, c. .'^. t " O'Curry's Lectures," vol. i., p. 376. ZT. KYRAN OF CLONMACNOIS. 23 fechon to which an ancient Irish treatise invites all priests : that their hearts should be chaste and shining, and their minds like the foam of the wave, or the colour of the swan in the sun- shine ; that IS without any particle of sin, great or small, resting m his heart !' And here another church wJs raised to pe;petuat! the memory of his virtues. Alas ! that church also is i/ruins. The wild briar grows m the place of sacrifice, and where saints expounded the mysteries of the faith few are ever seen, save, perhaps, thoughtless seekers after pleasure. Jiut in this new bt. Xyran s the memory of his pr-iestly virtues shall find a new sane uary Right fittingly shall those years of teaching, of sanctification, and of sacrifice be represented at this altar where the same victim he offered is immolated, at these tribunals ot penance where the same priestly power of loosing and binding IS exercised, m this pulpit from which the same faith IS preached ! At length the day came in which, about the year 544. he who was already the perfect monk and the perfect priest was to become also the perfect abbot, founder, and ruler of the glorious monastery of Clonmacnois. How splendid were the virtues that adorned St Kyran as the perfect abbot, let Clonmacnois itself proclaim ! It was long the most celebrated religious house in Ireland. It was the mother of countless saints. It was a treasure-house of graces. It became the chief seat of learninff in Ireland. It was a school of art and literature. Kings esteemed it an honour to buHd its walls with their royal hands. Ihe Ji^mperor Charlemagne sent rich presents to it through Alcum. The chieftains and princes of Erin bestowed their gitts upon It, until in lands and :;reasures, in precious chaHces and sparkling gems, in stately churches and rich crosses, it was the wonder of many lands. To be laid to rest beneath its earth, as near as might be to the relics of St. Kyran, was a privilege coveted by the noblest m the land. Bright with dew, and red- rosed, as It IS sty ed m an old Irish poem, it was not its sunny meads or its bright flowers that won for it such esteem: it was Ireland s faith m the powe ? of its founder's intercession. And yet he to whose merits all this was due ruled over the monastery he had founded for the short space of less than a smgie year. After seven months of labour there, he passed to his reward, and there beyond he rests, awaiting his glorious resurrection. There also, as was meet, arose o. church in his honour. Among the churches that cro\^n with their ruins the swelling hill, there is one named after the sainted abbot, and close to his venerab e grave. But if it were painful to see the scattered walls of the church on Aran that told of the virtues ot his youth— if it were painful to mark the desolation of the ms^Bi^ 24 ST. KYRAN OF CI.ONMACNOIS. l! t f I n church on Inis-Oenghin, that once spoke of the virtues of his riper years — much more painful is it to see, not merely the ruin nor the desolation, but the desecration of the church that stands in Clonmacnois, to tell what its sainted abbot was, and point to where he lies ! Far from me this day be the thought of wounding, by any words of mine, the religious sentiments of others ; but I cannot refrain from lamenting in the bitterness of my soul that " our holy places are come into the hands of strangcis; our temple is become as a man without honour" (1 Mach. ii. 12). AVhat sin have his people done that their father's grave should have become the dishonoured temple of heresy ? Some consolation, however, it is, that the ceremony of this morning has made atonement to the outraged honour of the saint of our hearts. Yes ; there is joy in the thought that here in his own Clonmacnois, this beautiful temple has been raised under the invocation of his name. What if the Atlantic spray dashes unresisted over St. Kyran's ruined church in Aran ; what if St. Kyran's church on Inis-Oenghin is roofless and desolate : what if even St. Kyran's church at Clonmacnois has been violated and degraded — have we not in this new St. Kyran's what will surpass the glories of the old ? Blessed, then— a hundred times blessed — be the hands that built its walls and bade its stately arches rise ! Blessings on you, first of all, O good pastor, Avith your helpers in the ministry ! Blessings on you, faithful children of St. Kyran, who in the sweat of your brow, and by the toil of your hands — in the early dawn and when the sun was setting— added to your daily tasks, already heavy, tlie labour of bringing together materials for the building ! Blessings on you, too, who, whether out of your poverty or out of your riches, provided means \yherewith to carry on that good work ! Proceed with courage till that work be gloriously completed. But if you would work successfully, remember what manner of men were those who preceded you in the task. The church you are building is to be the heir of all the glories that shone in the churches formerly raised to St. Kyran ; if so, your souls must be pure as those saints of Aran, your hearts faithful to Catholic truth like those of the ecclesiastics in Inis-Oenghin, and your hands generous as those of the kings and nobles who built up Clonmacnois. These royal and illustrious patrons are gone ; and you, their children, are servants where they once were lords. But their blood runs in your veins, and, better even than their princely blood, their faith glows in vour hearts. They have bequeathed to you their work : \)p. worthy of ""^our sires, and. let Ireland once more possess in Clonmacnois a monument worthy of her undying love for St. Kj'ran, the perfect monk, the perfect abbot ! THE PONTIFICAL JUBII-EE OF PIUS IX. 25 And now let the solemn rite of Sacrifice proceed, and let the Pure, Holy, and Unspotted Host be offered up for the first time within these newly-hallowed walls. But as for us, let us bow our unworthy heads to the dust, while enters the shining company of saints and angels, who come hither to keep the high festival. They are coming, the saints of Aran— Enda, Fiunian, and Columba— and wi',h them they lead the white-robed crowd of religious men, among whom St. Kyran spent his youth. Coming are the sainted priests and holy Levites, whom he taught and sanctified in his island home in Lough Ree. And you, too, are here, you countless throng of the saints of Clon- niacnois. Bishops and abbots, kings and chieftains, doctors and scholars, chaste youths and consecrated virgins. Coming, too, is the host of heaven, with glowing hearts and celestial song of triumph, en-ompussing Mary as she progresses to meet her Son. Enter then, O Lord Jesus Christ, enter then into this sanctuary which our hands have made, to crown and seal its dedication by the mystic outpouring of thy precious Blood upon this altar ! And lead with Thee our patron, St. Kyran, who, lor thy love, did overcome the world, and establish him, ac- cording to thy promise, as a pillar in this thy temple, that he may go out no more from among us. Write his name, together with thine own, God, on the great heart of Ireland, as we have written them together to-day upon the face of this temple, and grant that when time shall have dissolved it in ruin like its predecessors, thy name, and the names of the saints Thou hast given her, may be found imperishably united and living in her love. Amen. THE PONTIFICAL JUBILEE OF PIUS IX. ,„j"f^"il''^°^,",^ ^®^"S ^°^^' °^*^' *"'^ ^^^ advanced in years, called for all Israel, and for the e ders, and for the princes, and for the judges, and for the masters, aim said to them : I am old, and far advanced in years ; and you see all that tue Lord your God hath done to all the nations round about ; how he himself liath fought for you. . . . Only take courage, and be careful to observe all th ngs that are written m the book of the law ; and turn not aside from them, h!„ n '■ 1°, *''^ "S''* hand nor to the left ; lest after that you are come in among !^1 I'l y"" sJio^'ld swear by the name of their gods, and serve them, and .idore them: but cleave ye inito the Lord your God, and the Lord God will sh^II tJtTi . ^"l"* eyes nations that are great and very strong, and no man snau be able to resist you. "— Josue, xxiii, 1-9. Of every man that is born of a woman it is written that he liveth for a short time, and that h.i.s life i^, fragile as that of the nower, and fleeting as the inconstant shadow. If, then, in its best estate, human life is thus brief and fragile, and insecure, 2G THE PONTIFICAL JUBILEE OF PIUS IX. how poor a thing is one single solitary day from among the few that remain at the close of a career already exceeding the com- mon lot of man. And yet, one such day has just come in the life of an aged man who sits a prisoner in Rome, and it has made the hearts of more than two hundred millions of Catholics beat with joyous love. The 16th June, which gave to Pius IX. aline among his predecessors, to equal, in the duration of his PDntificate, the years of St. Peter, rose upon millions who had prayed for its coming as men sigh for the dawning of the day of the joy of their hearts ; its hours, as they ran their course, seemed to millions not long enough wherein to exult and lejoice in the day the Lord had made ; and it set in a glorious burst of thanks- giving which, even yet, is mounting upwards from the whole earth, and our glad part in which we fain would take to-day. And why, beloved brethren, has the Catholic world thus made this day the beginning of its joy? Not, surely, as if we judged a shorter Pontificate to be a sign of God's disfavour, since we know that for Josias, whose memory was " sweet as honey in every mouth, and as music at a banquet of wine ' (Eccles., xliv. 21), life was shortened as a reward; nor is it because we account a protracted life to be, of itself, a blessing singularly great ; for have we not heard the patriarch Jacob, though bending beneath the weight of six score years and ten, declare that the days of the years of his life were few and evil ; but because we feel that a singularly noble Pontificate, like that of Pius IX., could not be more fittingly crowned than by the singular privilege which preserved him that he might see the years of Peter. For what does that privilege, rightly con- sidered, imply ? It implies triumph ! it implies victory ! Not the base and vulgar triumph which marks the victory of stronger over weaker human passions, but the lofty, pure, serene triumph that fitly graces the victories won by the eternal truth of God I For I need not remind you that in revolving ages the truth of God has had, and still has, its battle-fields, in which h-avenly-appointed champions smite the dominant error of the time, and thereby win for the truth a victory, the glory (of which is reflected on themselves. Therefore do we celebrate the Pontifical Jubilee of Pius IX. with exceeding great joy, because it has encircled his brow with the glory of a triumph bri^'ht as that which, fifteen hundred years ago, Athanasms won for himself by his successful defence of the Divinity of the Eternal Word. For God has two Words— one, the Eternal personal Word, who is the figure of His substance and the splendour of His glory— true God of true God; the other, the Word of that Eternal Word spoken to man in the Christian THE PONTIFICAL JUBILEE OF PIUS iX. 27 revelation, and living evermore in the Catholic Church. And as to Athanasius was assigned the work of defendinf^ in his dav the Divinity of the Eternal Word, so to Pius IX. has been assigned in our day the work of defending the Divinity of the Eternal Word's word and work in the Holy Catholic Church Ihe Arians, by denying that the Word was God, would make inan s redemption impossible ; those who deny the Divine power of the Cat? ohc Church would render the scheme of redemption abortive and inoperative. And, as according to St. Athanasius himself, the battle m his day was against heretics, who, like new Pharisees, in sight of the very miracles of Christ, asked petulantly— how, being man. He claimed to be God ; so, in our flay, the battle is against those who, in sight of the thousand miracles which adorn the Catholic Church, ask how— bein-* a human institution— she dares claim the possession of the very authority of God ? And herein precisely consists the triumph of the Pontifical Jubilee of Pius IX. ; that out of the materials and withm the limits of his Pontificate, it supplies a most striking proof of the truth of his life-long teaching, that the Catholic Church speaks with the authority of God. I say a striking proof— for, as his Jubilee itself is a fact that stands out in soli- tary grandeur m the history of nineteen centuries, so also it is failed with events so extraordinary as to compel the wonder of all, and so certain that none may gainsay their truth. Such a proof, too, has all the weight attaching to those providential manifestations, to reject which is to exclude from history all trace of that imperfect sanction of the moral order which alone IS permitted by the condition of this life. And if tberf. be any one who is inclined to make light of such a proof, or to carp at It, as wanting in logical weight and dignity, let him explain faow, in the text with which I commenced, Josue pursues a course of reasoning precisely similar to prove that the authority which himself wielded was from God. Bet^-een the words of Jo ^ , the princes and rulers of Israel, and those of the latest Encyclical of Pius IX. to the Bishops of the Christian Church, there runs a most remarkable parallel. It is full of sublime instruction to observe these two men — rulers re- spectively, of God's people of the Old and of the New Testa- ment—take their stand upon the height of years which they had painfully climbed, and trace for their flocks, in the strug- gles and victories of their own chequered career, a proof written by the finger of God Himself, that the authority exercised by them was from Him ! Brighter days there may have been in the lives of both — days when their names were acclaimed by a thousand lips, and the great ones of the earth bent themselves before them ; but, to my mind, the day of their rarest triumph 28 THE PONTIFU'AI, JUIJILEE OF PIUS IX. i was that upon which, in the history of their own lives, they could point to the triumph of the truth which it was given them to uphold. And such is the triumph which belongs to-day to Pius IX. For, in truth, the twenty-five years of his Pontihcate are luminous with the traces of three great characteristics which the instincts of enlightened faith unhesitatingly accept as evidence of the victory of the truth of God. These are : an endurance that no violence can overcome ; a vigour which waxes stronger under hostile assaults ; and the sanction of experience, whereby the truth of Catholic teaching is made wondrously manifest by the facts of history. And see, first of all, how gloriously has he endured m his apostolical office of teaching truth. The truth of God, says Tertullian, has but one thing to fear upon earth, viz., lest it should be denied a hearing. Its enemies, guided by a diabolical instinct, are conscious of this, and use every exertion to stifle its voice, or to prevent it from reaching those to whom it is addressed. Hence, agaiiist the man whom God has chosen to be tlie inv^athpiece of the truth which they hate, they exhaustall their power of persecution, if so they can succeed in hindering his Apostleship, by coercing him into silence. And thus, in such a struggle, the victory of the truth depends upon the en- durance of its champion : as he endures, the truth endures — and by enduring conquers. And God, mindful of His own truth, is wont to give strength and endurance to him who has thus become its living and visible exponent among men. This providence was foreshadowed in that promise of a life stretching to a mysterious term which He made to the Apostle St. John ; and it is clearly illustrated in the preservation of the Evange- list's life through the perils of a century of fiercest persecution, that so he might be a golden link between the ages to come, and the happy age that had seen the I;ord. For ore hundred years was he preserved that he might safely carry within his virginal breast, in the midst of the nascent heresies, the central truth of the Divinity of Christ. The same providence is especially seen in the history of that St. Athanasius, tc whom I have ventured to compare Pius IX. Against him, as the defender of Catholic doctrine, the rage of angry sovereigns, and the unceasing hate of their Arian subjects, were pitilessly exercised. But through- out all, he endured, and with him and through him endured the truth of God. He was exiled bj^ Constantine, and he endured ; he was proscribed by Constantius, and he endured; he was persecuted by Julian, and he endured ; he was threatened under Valens, and he endured. Out of the forty years of his episco- pate, he spent twenty far away from his see— now in the remote nil; I'ONTIFICAL JUnil.KE OF PIUS IX. 29 Gaul, now amid the burning sands of the deserts, and at times even in his father's grave, and still he endured. Five times did he take the road to exile, and five times did he return • and to bis endurance do we owe it, under God, that the Nicenc treed 18 still on the lips and in the hearts of us all. And now my brethren, if foi the doctrine of the Divinity of Christ you substitute that of the Divine authority of the Church, what is the history of the twenty-five years' pontificate of Pius IX. but a reproduction of the History of Athanasius' trials, of his en- durance, and of his victory. Hardly had Pius IX. m(.inted the pontifical throne, when words of flattery and deceitful praises fell upon his ear. These were the treacherous beginnings of the storm that was soon to sweep across his life. The secret societies, which are the hands through which the 1 spirit of this unbelieving age achieves Its accursed works, singled out as the special object of their assaults the Pontiff, who claimed to control the minds and hearts n f ^v' ^^^^^^ *^^"^ captive to the Divine authority of the Catholic Church. Ho was driven into exile ; he lived through it and returned. Hardly had he resumed his place upon the throne, when his name was opprobriously dragged before the cabinets of ±|Urope, and his kingdom denounced as the plao-ue-spot of Europe; he heard, and endured. And then imperial hands began to undermine his throne, removing one by one its bul- warks and its supports ; and, when the unholy work was done, imperial lips spoke the treacherous words that brought dowTi upon the defenceless Pontiff the hordes of his foes But he endured through all ; and he has lived to see the imperial hand paralysed, and to hear from the traitorous lips the sad cry— " I, too, have been betrayed." Then came ihe war of spoliation —stripping him year after year of his best provinces, of his towns, of his own Rome, of his churches, of his horr.e, and linally, of his personal liberty. And throughout all this he has endured. INot for a single day did he flinch from upholding the Divine authority of the Church ; nor could flattery, nor threats, nor exile, nor calumnj-, nor brute force, nor the robber's vio- lence, nor the loss of liberty, ever compel him to silence. Ey sheer endurance he has conquered his conquerors themselv<-s, who m vain have prayed and hoped for his death. With eager eye they have been long watching for the approach of the shadow of death upon that august face ; with unholy ioy they gloated over every fancied dgn of infirmity; until weary at last and disappointed, they ask each other in dismay—" Is this old man never to die ? " Is not this marvellous endurance evidence "i a present Lrod who Himself is enduring because He is etor,- nal, and of whose truth it is written that it remaineth for ever • Veritas Domini manet in etermim ! ia??:ff"?«^" 30 THE PONTIFICAL JUBILEE OF PIUS IX. But, besides the triumph of endurance, the authority of the Catholic Church has enjoyed, through Pius IX., another and yet nobler triumph in this— that the more it has been assailed, the more vigorous it has become. Two things combine to con- stitute the triumph of authority : first, that the title by which it claims the right to control its subjects should be clearly and forcibly set out ; next, that this title should be recognised and obeyed by the subjects ; and the more fully this double work has been achieved, the more full is the triumph of authority. Xow, Pius IX. has, with signal success, rendered, throughout his Pontificate, these two most important services to the autho- rity of the Holy See, as well with respect to its power of ruling and as to its power of teaching. Who has ever set forth more clearly than he the titles on which the Church rests her claim to rule the souls of men? and who has ever secured from the bishops and tlie people of God a more full recognition and a more loving reverence for these titles ? lie spoke the word, and immediately, in the north and in the south, whore the sun rises and where he sets, new episcopal thrones arose in the Church, to become centres of sanctitication and of civilisation to millions. He spoke again, and the Churches of two flourish- ing nations put off their mourning and forgot their secular sorrow in the joy of beholding once more the due order of the hierarchy re-established in their midst. At a sign from him the bishops of Christendom came from the ends of the earth, and gathered round the see of St. Peter, not once, but several times, and especially in the great G'^cumenical Council of the Vatican. At his word again, the Catholic Universe paid to men whose names were obscure, and even a reproach, the honours of _ the alta and, in the newly-L.monised saints, heaven itself received ne T .atercessors for the Church. And thus, at a period when every earthly throne was tottering, the Chair of Peter alone was vigorous and firm ; when every other power was scorned or despised, the power of the Pope commanded ever-growing reverence and love. But especially with regard to the Pontifi- cal Magisterium, has Pius IX. won triumph for the authority for the Church. Christ, our Lord, when he had prayed for Peter's faith, that he might confirm liis brethren, placed him and his successors high on the Pontifical Throne, that from them the world might learn what to believe, and that each one, by comparing his own faith with that of Peter, might know if he were walking in the paths of the Gospel. But it happened, a few centuries ago, that from the passions of men, there rose up here and there, over the Avorld, a vague mist which came between the eyes of some few, and the face of the Apostolic Teacher, whom Clirist had placed on his own throne. And these, to the THE PONTIFICAL JUBILEE OF PIUS IX. 31 vZ7^ fj f r^-r. °* l^-^"' ^'"*^'^^' ^^g^^ to question the Pontifical Infallibility, while courtier lawyers and heretics, each to forward his own respective interests of evil, encouraged and propagated the shameful error. Early in his Pontificfte, 1 ms IX., by his dogmatic definition of the Immaculate <^oncep' tion exercised this high prerogative of his oflice, and he has ned to confirm the decree of the Vatican Council, by which the doctrine of the Pontifical Infallibility was declared an article of Christian faith. And thus, through him, have been cleared away the clouds that intercepted from many the view of the thTo'n f;:W"Y f'li^l T^'^'^' ^« that,^t this moment the entire Church of God looks with certain faith towards the r?tbnlST?l 1 "!? *r''^' ^^l '''y P^^l^^ «^^^ ground of Catholic fai h. And when we reflect upon the difiiculties that beset the close of many of the general councils; when we recall the long and weary period over which the sessions of the Council of Trent_ itself were extended ; when we consider the vigour and audacity of that handful of men who have dared to call m question the authority of the Vatican Council, we begin to see how great is the blessing which the Providence of God has drawn even from the evils which have rendered necessary a ci:i?rT7 ?'f ,^'^°^, ^f '^! «^«!iT- ^'^^^ b^^^ld ! the entire Church has had time to profess its faith in thedoctrinal decrees t^e Vatican Council, as m the very word of God Himself: and, at the close of his twenty-fifth year's pontificate, Pius IX has had the consolation of beholding, from the height of his Apostolic Throne, two hundred millions of human sods truss- ing themselves in peaceful confidence to the guidance of one teacher, whose faith is never to fail. In the presence of this sublime spectacle of triumphant authority, how poor becomes even the world-wide empire of ancient Rome-that immcnsa Bormnm pam Majedas-xh^ vision of which seemed to the imperial statesmen something too majestic to belong to earth ' ^nov iT '' y^^r'T- ^' '^"■'"'^' "«^^ °ld and advanced in years could appeal to the testimony of history for a sanction of the ruth of his teaching, so can Pius IX. point to the un- paralleled events of the last few months, as to a convincLg proof that his words of instruction were inspired by the spirit slotlTrf 7\ Z' ^'^1 ^T'' ^'' ^^'"^"•^^ liis%eople^ that Siey should not bo led away by the errors of the natioim that dweU among them nor swear by the names of their gods, nor serve them, nor adore them, for that speedy destruction ^ould come u^on these nations however great and mighty and strong thov might appear : and the vnry month th'i^ h-"ii" f- 1-,-- n T^ ,^f !,,•„ ,• 1 -1 ' 111 '"^ -J^^iim rn.!,. Omigo to iiiiu the day of his jubilee, enables liim to appeal, like Josuo, to his hearers' experience of the awful accuracy Vith which his predictions have 32 THE PONTIFICAL JUBILEE OF PIUS IX. been fulfilled. " I am old and far advanced in years, and you see all that the Lord your God hath done to the nations round about ; how He Himself hath fought for you." Who are the gods of those nations which, with a civilisation of their own, surround the Catholic Church in this age? How are they adored ? What manner of service is offered to them ? Those questions have been answered by Pius IX. in that Syllabus which will mark to future ages the moment when the advancing waves of naturalism were first stayed in their destructive course. In it he has held up before the faithful the gods of the modern Gentile world, unmasking the hideous idols of pantheism, and naturalism, and rationalism ; in it he has described the fashion after which these monsters are adored — indifferentism, and that false liberalism which practically degrades the truth to the level of error ; in it he has unf olded"^ how these gods, themselves the creatures of man's evil passions, are served by irreligious educa- tion, by unbridled lust of pleasure, by a licentious press, by public immorality, by the tyranny of the mob ; in it he reveals the turpitude of the attempts made to banish God from the marriage contract, from the family, from the school, from the cabinet, from the whole range of social and civil life. And whereas these things were set forth as essential conditions of tlie only true and lasting progress, without which nor public pro- perty, nor stable government, nor security at home, nor peace abroad, nor riches, nor liberty, nor public virtue could ever be hoped for ; agL.in and a^ain did the Sovereign Pontiff warn the faithful that they should not be seduced by those brilliant pro- mises, for that these idols would bring sure and speedy destruc- tion on the nations who worshipped them as the source and cause of their own greatness and strength. This truth did he speak in love ; but many received not the love of the truth that they might be saved : therefore, God sent them the operation of error (2 Thess. ii. 10). And now that he has lived to celebrate his jubilee, he has lived long enough to see the sad experience of history confirm his words to the fullest extent. His teaching can no longer be considered as a theological abstraction, which men may contemptuously reject as too subtle for the wear and tear of busy ' Ife ; for he now can point to facts that startle the least observant by the complete justification of hia teai hings which they contain. " See,' he says, " what has come of the attempts to exclude the supernatural influences of religion from the life of man. Learn from the horrors of the last few months what Godless education has made of the young ! The hands which you would not allow to make the sign of the cross are red with innocent blood, most cruelly spilled. See what your non- religious training has made of woman !— the gentle and loving THE ECCLESIASTi AL SEMIXAUY. 83 itT' ^ iJT '!'• l'^^^ • ^'' it« fruits in the school-roC of thP fl 1 rr''^ t ^'^P^^ ''''^ '^' shattered fraimenT; barbarism into which socrty has fllTen in I 1 "•*' '^ ?*^ This IS t_he triumph, my brethren, which his r^bilee sherl^ crown o± martyrdom ? Oh ! deliver us f /om blood O God the R,^f if >\' 'Ji''''';!'^^ r *°^^^^ ^^^-^U announce thy pi^ai But if It be thy will that this trial should come, I know of one at least who evermore sayeth from out his prison ^Tfv heart IS leady, Lord, my heart is readv '" nn/wtr ' ij^ 7 ?, crown ,he.gI„,.ythat\asbee"v3afedtohtars"pS years, Wu„,tot,„g St, Peter's death for his Ma'tort name But whatever the blessed Providence of God may decre"- W a s„,on,„ pledge'ti^t thi;^haU ^1 SCtt ? iu^Kd m such a tnumph as will announce, even in this lifn tbf j„ of that imperMablc triumph wherein the clectrfo wh„se sauT Mcat.on the Church exists under its visible h^ will s1n° t^ THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINAUY. with tfy ""■'■ '■'"'' '■""•«■-'"'>■"■ Aould be lowered to its place ;i.at henceforth shaii hVs:;s;;l^*^,^^i;;;■i^ '^^;r^3f^^^^ ».ll soon r,sc above .t is designcl fcr no profane or common 4 t THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. purpose, but ratlier in its fair and stately proportions it will crown this noble hill as with a Sacred Tabernacle, within which the Catholic Church may securely achieve a work of incomparable holiness and dignity. Here will she gather to her maternal bosom youthful Levites in the fresh bloom of their early inno- cence ; 'here, with patient love, day by day, and year by year, Avill she pour out upon them those tender and gracious influences of which she alone possesses the secret ; here will she fit them to the hand of Christ, her spouse, as instruments to sanctify the souls of men. This is the office, this the \vork of an Ecclesiastical Seminary, such as that which the Diocese of Kilmore has com- menced "to-day ; and when I consider the loftiness of the purpose which this new seminary is to serve; when I consider the mao-nificcnt completeness with which it is designed that it should serve them ; when I consider the splendid results that may be hoped from its service, I can well understand the deep and holy joy which fills the heart of all here present, and of Avhich even this jubilant ceremonial is scarcely the adequate expression. The purposes of Christian education, under any circumstances, are simply among the grandest that can stir the energies of man, for they aim at leading, to its highest perfection, the noblest of God's works on earth — the human soul. Beautiful as is the universe with a thousand types of loveliness ; teeming as it is with uncounted forms of wealth ; wondrous a; are the powers with which it is equipped ; its beauty, and ri( hes, and forces fade into insignificance before the dignity of man. And in man himself the perishable frame is of little account compared with the immortal soul, which, with its two imperial faculties of intellect and will, as with two outstretched arms of yearning, evermore seeks the Supreme Truth and the Sovereign Good, which is God. And since our faculties then reach their perfec- tion, when they are united with the object for which they are formed, how glorious is the purpose of a Christian education, which not only strengthens, purities, and exercises the faculties of mind and heart, but, furthermore, iuifold>i to them the blessed vision of tlie God of Truth and of Goodness, who has made thciii for himself, that ne may make them happy with_ himself for ever. Now, the Catholic Church alone possesses, in its complete- ness, this beneticent power of education. Others, who undertake the task, aim merely at developing intellectual power, forgetful that, in our corrupt nature, intellect is too often tlic slave, not the controller of passion ; or they seek to direct the wayward will by the cold and uncertain liglit of moral philosophy alone ; or, after having cultivated the soul's faculties to the highest, they declare themselves incapable of satisfying the cravings they have encouraged, and can only ask with Pilate, W/iat /.s THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. 35 the intellect and disoipliL the ^riU t n, .^"^ ?^' "'''"^ author;^ with oloa^Ls;^h»^h':ri4^^^^^ hefore the former what truths are to be believed nnd W„ ,1 latter what laws are to bo observed, while "'8°^ Sf wh eh her sacraments are the channels F^^f>> nL vP^^^^^' ^^ ^^^i<;^ both p..ihle and meritorious. ik^'Stwl'YJLTnr' poses of education is then the onlv pom,.lofo / -. f embraces the whole of human na ufe 3 1 u' ^T '^ ''^^^ the temporal and for the 0^"^ n e;e tf of^m^^^^^ 1,^ ^^' the ans..r to the prayer of St. Paul forts disSpTes ({ itsT " 23), that their whole spirit and soul and body^mio-ht be tr J' served blameless unto the coming of our Lord jLus Christ ^t/ then, the purposes of education rank among Vehighes if tie conception of education prevailing in the Catho^f? nl'/ri^ the most complete and the most Dorfpof hi ^'^^^'^^^'^ Church be must be the purposes of an'fcc^e^s^tallS^^^^^^ not only the blessings of education will be con eS anJtiat through the Church, who will livi^jTi nil i, /^''"«"' ana mat the pagan mind youth was an objeef o? rl^ee for its til " Its mnoccnce, ts fflowinj; hones inrt tl,„ h^; vf "fcaudour, future; but to us^vho fnoTttatTh'e X™f S pls°t h"' condescended to become a child, and to res in fe ™ of , §gr£,5«iiSwsfeSffi!i of the Divme Child, vvho grew up in wisdom and in giv4e Sore iLt^ro?t;Xtlxa''?ea4R- 36 THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. working out his purpose ? And how many of them will come to this spot at no distant future, meek of eye, and gentle in face and speech, as were the Kevins and Kiorans of old, bearing beneath a modest, perhaps even an humble exterior, the richest graces of God, and the dearest hopes of souls and of the Church. And when they shall have come hither, oh ! how will they raise to heaven their pure hands to bless him by whom these walls were bidden to rise to shelter them, while, like olive branches, they surround the altar of God, preparing for the day when, in the sacrament of Orders, the Holy .Spirit shall be enthroned in power in their hearts, wherein He had so long dwelt in love ! This is the purpose for which the new seminary is to be built, and is it given to the thought of man to conceive of one more sublime ? Exit since, as the Scripture tells us, the thoughts of mortals are timid and uncertain, it often happens that the noblest pur- poses are marred in their execution by means that were honestly and seriously meant to promote them'. It is not so in this case. When the Bishop of Kilmore set himself to draw up the plan of his new seminary, he took into his coimcil, not the capricious fancy of an individual, nor the views of a party, nor the half- wisdom of local or partial experience ; but, like a new Bezeleel, having undertaken to make things necessary for the uses of the sanctuary, he resolved that they should be made only according to the pattern pleasing to God, and set forth bv the Church herself in the Council of Trent, where it treats of 'Ecclesiastical Seminaries. I am speaking his mind when I say it to be his solemn purpose, that in this new Seminary of St. Patrick, from the corner-stone that has just been laid, 'to the cross that shall surmount the building, there shall not be one single detail which will not fully accord with the prescriptions of the Council of Trent. I cannot follow out so large a plan in each of its par- ticulars ; I must be content to single out four of the leading principles, which, being recognised as essential, are to regulate the entire details both of the material and moral construction. These fundamental principles are— 1st, that this seminary shall be a centre of loving obedience to the Holy See of St. Peter ; 2nd, this^ seminary shall be free from the trammels of State control ; 8rd, that for its students it shall make provision for an intellectual culture, the highest in kind, and the widest in range that can be compassed ; and 4th, that it shall neglect nothing by which the ecclesiastical spirit may be preserved and developed in the hearts of its alumni. To be fruitful of good, ecclesiastical training must be inspired by the principle of loving obedience to the Holy See. As in the natural, so in the supernatural order, union w'ith their head is THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. 37 the condition of growth in the members. And, as in our spiri- tual life, according to the apostle, we grow up in him who is the head even Christ, from whom the whole body, being compacted and fitly joined together, maketh increase ; so also it is in him who is her visible head, and through whom, as the centre of her fW^/l n I r"" ^n^^ \' compacted and fitly joined together, that the Catholic Church maketh increase unto the edifying of herself in charity. Whenever, therefore, you hear that'in this or that Catholic country faith is languishing and virtue dead, or that the priesthood has saddened the Holy Spirit of God, you may be sure, my brethren, that this has come to pass because the seminaries of that country have fallen under the curse that fell upon the mountains of Gelboe, inasmuch as, being cut ofE from the fertilising influence of Home, nor dew nor rain from heaven has come upon them, and that, for this reason, they have ceased to be the field of first-fruits. And if to-day the Catholic Church mourns with a mother's sorrow over the apostasy of a tew proud professors in the centre of Europe, it should not be lorgotten that one of the early steps taken by the leader of these unhappy men upon the road that has led him to the precipice, was the uttering of disrespectful words against the teaching of Kome Me boasted in his conceit, that the candlestick of Catholic theology had been transferred from Italy to Germany, whither alone the Catholic schools should henceforth look fo^ their enlightenment. To-day we see the dreadful punishment of his presumption and disloyalty ; for he who, out of contempt tor Kome, had claimed for himself and his handful of pupils to be the source of theological learning, has miserably lost even the light of faith, without which it is impossible to please God. After union with the Holy See, I have placed next among the conditions for the due training of ecclesiastics, that the clerical seminary should be independent of control on the part of the civil power. The Catholic Church, from her constitution as a divinely-founded religious society, is and must be independent ot the civil power. This independence has ever been viewed with a jealous eye on the part of the State. At all periods of the Church s history statesmen have attem:oted, under one form or another, to possess themselves of ecclesiastical influence, or at least to control the Church's power, by employing it for their own purposes The entire history of the Church is but a recital ot the struggles made by her, especially by the Roman Pontiffs, agamst these encroachments, and for the multiplied victories she has achieved in this perennial warfare. But, I think, not one ot the many attempts made upon the Church's liberty has ever been more dangerous than that which aims at controlling the traimng of the priesthood. It is against such attempts, even '»%«*«*1«"iA!l'|i^^N|S«| 38 THK ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. ir when they claim for the civil power merely a right to direct tho method of studies in seminaries, that the forty-sixth proposition of the immortal Syllabus is directed. Such interference on the part of the State is fatal to the working of an ecclesiastical semi- nary. Tho formation of the priestly character is too sacred a work to bo entrusted to any agent other than the Church herself. The growth of the sacerdotal virtues in the soul under the mys- terious action of the grace of tho Holy Spirit, is a process too exquisitely delicate to bear ihc inspection of profane eyes, or the rough handling of profane hands. The figure of this world is passing a^yay ; and each of its passing phases brings into fashion new i)rinciples of action, new theories of morals, new models in literature and art, to which, as to the idols of the hour, tho tyranny of public opinion would have everything to bow down. What misery, then, would it be if the ever-changing passions of the day were to bo allowed to form the ministers of a religion that never changes, because it is the truth of Christ. No ! lictwocn tlie Catholic Church and the soul of the young Levito no power on earth must be allowed to stand, to counteract her blessed in- fluences, or to call evil what she calls good, or good what she calls evil. ]3esidos, the Church, far from discouraging, as her enemies assert, counsels and prescribes to her ministers the highest intel- Icctunl cultiire. As the spouse of that God who rejected the imperfect victim, because unworthy of his acceptance,' she loves to present at his altar, in her priests, the choicest f] uitsof culti- vated intellect. Indeed, it is not too much to say, that in tlio present age, it is only in her schools that we behold faith and science, each in the fulness of its own proper dignity, u.o'-t together in unity. Witli regard to the faculties of tho modern Trivium, \'v/.., letters, pliilosopliy, and theology, it would bo easy to adduce a catena of forcible exliortations repeatedly ad- dressed by the Holy See to the rulers of ecclesiastical seminaries, m which the fullest and most complete development of each sixbject is inculcated with an anxious earnestness. Thus, in his Encyclical^ ///A>/- Multiplia's to tlie IHshops of Franco (21st March, 1852), Pius IX. defends the use of the classics against some who would remove tliem from the schools, and prescribes that ecclesiastical students should bo carefully trained in litera- ture, and taught to acquire elegance of style and eloquence from the writings of the Holy Fathers and from the classical authors, purged from the indecencies of Paganism. And whilst, in our day, the growing school of Positivism openly and unequivocally condemns metaphysical studies, as tending to lift men above* tlie region of the senses, it is remarkable that the Catholic Church has exerted herself to the utmost to protect and promote them. THK ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. 39 In the Syllabus and in the decrees of the Vatican Council the rights and dignity of the human reason are powerfully defended ; and in its communication with the bishops, the Holy See has again and again urged that at least two years of the students' course should be devoted to the study of metaphysics and moral philosophy ; and hucIi studies have never been more necessary than in this ago, which directs its attacks rather against the natural truths which constitute the preamble to faith, than against the doctrines of faith themselves. I need not say a word about theology, since, indeed, our ene- mies charge us with narrow-mindedness, on account of a too exclusive devotion to its study. But, in thus accusing us, they do not see what even I'rudlion, the father of the modern Com- mune saw, when he declared that behind every great political and social question there lurks a question of t^heology. They forget,^ also,_ that to master any one science as thorougllly as the pnest is trained to master his theology, is, in itself, an education such as never can be imparted by that discursive study of many various subjects now in fasliion, and which scatters and weakens the energies of the mind ; and finally, they forget that the volumes of theology placed in the student's hands contain the lrea.sures of thought that for nineteen centuries the kings of the intellectual world have been storing up, and that to despise them IS to despise all that is wise and noble in the history of human intelligence. The preservation and increase of the ecclesiastical spirit is the very secret of the success of a clerical seminary. The world mocks at what it styles the gloomy virtues of the priesthood, and is indignant that its own principles, its literature, its heroes, its fashions, its amusements, are not accepted in places of eccle- siastical education. I hope that it shall never have reason to withdraw or to soften that accusation. In this new seminary, at least, the priceless blessing of the ecclesiastical spirit will be pro- tected by the sweet and vigorous discipline, traditional in the Catholic Church, of which the habit of pra3'er, meditation on the eternal truths, repeated retreats, frequentation of sacraments, the study of ascetic and pastoral theology, are the integral parts. By these means will be formed that sacerdotal character, which, with its grave and solemn principles of duty, of self-denial, of patient courage, of gentleness, is a joy to the faithful Catholic, and which not unfrequently conquers even the hostility of the enemies of the Church. These four principles, faithfully carried out m the new Seminary of St. Patrick, will place in the hands of the Church, for the education of her ministers, nil that is sanctifying in religion, all that is profound in science, all that 18 graceful in literature, all that is vigorous in discipline, all ! 'I - -jif§aA*«..-. ^'•"■''StJfesfe-^'ii ■*«s« 40 THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY, ': I ;! :| ill 'if that IS gentle m charity, and thus will make it a perfect ex- pression ot the Church's plan of a house of ecclesiastical education. And from such a realisation of such a plan, what splendid results may you not expect. I wish it were in my power ade- quately to describe to you the wonderful influences upon society and religion which must flow from the ministrations of priests trained according to the spirit of the Council of Trent. " What 18 a priest?'; asks IJalmez. "What his character and func- tions ^ What IS the mission he is to discharge upon earth ? The priest IS, as it were, a mediator between God and man ; it is his to olter to the Almighty incense and sacrifice ; to carry before the throne of infinite mercy the prayers of mortals, to appease the Uivme Justice unceasingly provoked by their crimes; and, receiving m return from the hands of the Eternal, gifts most precious and necessary, he scatters them upon the world as un- failing treasures of consolation and hope. Look upon him when engaged in his august functions; surrounded by his entire people, who in the spirit of profound humility, bow low before the Holy ot Holies; clothed in symbolical and mysterious robes, standing before the altar in the glow of lights, enveloped in the sweet and Iragrant cloud that rises from his hands towards the throne of the Eternal God, he pronounces with faltering lips the universal prayer, he entones the majestic hymn to the God of Sabaoth, he lilts up, with trembling hand, the Host of Salvation, and presents for the adoration of the people the Lamb without stain, whose blood has redeemed the world. Does not this sublime spectacle move to transport your entire soul ? Are you not penetrated with a religious feeling which humbles you before the majesty of the Most IV ; and, at the same time, is not your heart filled with prof ou_ . spect for the dignity of his min- ister.-' Ihese are eloquent and noble words, and powerfully depict the exalted idea of the priestly dignity cherished by that great man. But eloquent and noble as ihcy are, in my heart I believe them weak and colourless when compared with that majestic conception of the priesthood which faith and love have impressed on the mind of the simple Irish Catholic. Among all the nations of the earth there is not one which more correctly appreciates the dignity of the priesthood, or more lovingly reve- rences it, than the Irish. Men say that this devotion of the Irish to their priest is but a bigoted superstition. JYo ! but it is the outcome of faith in a high-souled nation, clean enough of heart to look upon the face of Christ to whom sorrow has brought them close, and quick enough to recognise in their pr'.ests the very traits they have adored in Ilim ! They say that it is the growth of ignorance! No, but it is the enlightened homage which the inteUect of a believing nation pays willingly to the THE ECCLESIASTICAL SEMINARY. 41 sacerdotal \-ii-tues of humility, chastity, love of learning, the spirit of labour, union with God ! They say that it is the result of fear ! No, but it is the outpouring of a love that has been growing in the heart of Ireland for the last fifteen centuries, fed year after year, as the sea by the inflowing rivers, by the active service of a priesthood whom gold could not corrupt, nor pros- perity alter, nor sorrow crush, nor the fear of death itself sever f]-om the people whom God had given them ! And chief among the good results which will flow from this seminary upon society do I account this, that through it the religious influence of the priest upon the people will be deepened, strengthened, purified, and inten "ified. Through it will be renewed those brilliant virtues of the Irish priesthood, the history of which, handed down by the tradition of ages, has enkindled the love of the Irish _ for the minister of God. At this moment two classes of enemies conspire to weaken this love ; first, the doctrinaire states- men, who seek to rsvenge upon the clergy the failure of their own insolent educational experiments upon the faith and morals of our people ; and next, the enemies of order, who gnash their teeth, because in Ireland religion has been foimd stronger than revolution. These are our two most dangerous enemies at this hour, but the fruits of the work that has been undertaken to-day shall make us secure against both ; for, upon the heart of Ca- tholic Ireland the influence of the man on whose brow she beholds the triple glory of learning, virtue, and the sacerdotal character, \yill ever be simply irresistible. And what shall I say of the influence of the good priest upon the interests of religion ? When the young priest leaves the threshold of the seminary, with the unction of sacerdotal grace yet fresh upon him, to begin his journey in the midst of the sorrows and the ams of men, we know that he does not go alone. With him there goes One, who, as He took upon Himself the sins of the world, that He might expiate them, so also He took upon Himself the sorrows of men, that He might console them. How many sorrowing hearts daily call out to the priest of God for comfort m their sore agony ? How many sinful heads are bowed before him, asking that their load of guilt may be lifted off from them ? Nor in vain do they cry ; for in the hands of the priest the Redeemer and Consohjr of men has deposited His own beneficent power ; or rather through his minister. He uses that power, even as He used it when, in the days of his flesh, he went about doing good. And thus, to the other results of the seminary, we may without presumption add this one, which m itself includes the various excellences of all the rest, that in the life of every priest sent forth from it shall be renewed the infinitely loving and infinitely beneficent action of Him who is the Lamb of God 42 ST. PATRICK AND HIS WORK. taking away the sins of the world. happy bishop ! to whom God has given it to unseal for your people these fresh streams of gladness and salvation. O happy clergy! who will soon behold within those walls heirs of your virtues and learning, and helpers for your weakness in your hour of need. O happy people ! for whoso Gake God has filled the heart of your pastor with such glorious purposes, to be so magnificently carried out to such splendid results. May He in whose name the beginning has been made to-day, be unto the work increase and growth, until, in his own good time, He bring it to the desired perfec- tion. Amen. n\4 i ST. PATRICK AND HIS WORK. "Arise, arise, put on tliy strength, O Sion, put on the garments of thy clorv, p Jerusalem. . Shake thyself from the dust, arise, sit up, O Jerusalem^ ; loose the bonds from off thy neck, captive daughter of Sion. . . . JIow beau- tiiul upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidinfrs, and that preacheth peace: of him that showeth forth good, that preachcth salva- tion, that saith to Sion: Thy God shall reign ! . . . Rejoice, and give praise together, ye deserts of Jerusalem : for the Lord hath comforted his people."— ISAIAS, 111., 1-9. '■ '■ Seldom has the sternness of the prophets unbent to joyou<^ ex- hortations more thrilling than those here addressed to the afflicted people of Israel. And since our human heart is so fashioned that it ^vill not pass from sorrow to joy merely at the bidding of another, and without its proper motive, Isaiasis care- ful to set before his hearers a reason -oowt Zul enough to lift them from their depth of woe to the rejoicing to which he in- vites them. He knew well how bitter the sorrow that had fallen on the prostrate daughter of Sion ; he knew that for very grief her songs ^-ere hushed in the strange land ; but he knew, also, that captive, sorrow-stricken, and mute as she was, she could not but find a beginning of joy in the clear and distinct vision of him who was to come to conduct her, rescued from her woes, to the full light of God's best blessings. Tnerefore, he bids her contemplate how beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that preacheth peace— of him that showeth forth good, that preacheth salva- tion—that in this contemplation the deserts of Jerusalem mio-ht rejoice and give praise together. ^ These same v^ords of the prophet are applied by the Apostle bt. Paul, to the preachers of the Gospel of Christ, and especially ST. PATRICK AND HIC WORK. 43 to those who, like St. Patrick in Ireland, were the first to preach the faith to nations sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death. They have, therefore, a special fitness on this occasion of the dedication of a Church which has been raised almost over St. Patrick's tomb, to be a memorial of his apostolato in this land. The more so, because Catholic Irelard, like the daughter of Sion, to whom they were first addressed, has had, and still has, so much cause to mourn. Her lot, like that of Jerusalem, has been the sad lot of the oppressed ; her strength has gone out from her ; for ages her robe has been moist with the tears, and too often, alas ! with the blood of the children of her love. But some ra}s of purest joy shall ever come to brighten the gloom of her sorrows, as long as the memories of which this church is the visible shrine shall survive throughout the land. In the hour of her anguish she has but to fix her eyes on the noble and majestic figure of her Apostle, and, as in the dawn of her history he was the first to bring her good tidings, so to the last ■will he be to her a source of peace and of rejoicing, because through him the Lord hath comforted his people. St. Paul compares the preachers of the Gospel to the starry orbs that announce God's glory to the ends of the earth ; and, as star differs from star in brightness, so apostle differs from apostle in the characteristic glories of his mission. Some there are to whom, as the scene of their labours, vast regions are as- signed, teeming with a busy population, and rich vi cities, conspicuous as seats of empire or marts of commerce ; and by the labours of such as these is garnered a harvest as vast as the field on which it is reaped. Others there are to whom a scanty corner of earth is made over, where, unknown and obscure, they may earn for themselves an apostle's crown, not the less bril- liant because the triumphs it rewards are unseen by human eye. Either of these apostolates is glorious ; but the apostolate of St. Patrick has this peculiarity— that it combines in itself the united excellences of both. Of himself as compared with the other apostles of modern nations, St. Patrick might well say, although in a sense different from St. Paul's : " I am the least of the apostles, and I have laboured more abundantly than all ; " for it is the special characteristic of his work, and although confined within scantiest limits, it has p-oduced colossal results, compassing within a narrow sphere, an.i with slenderest ma- terials, as much as others have hardly achieved in the widest field and under the most favourable circumstances. It is this union of lowly resources with splend''^. success which distin- guishes beyond that of others the apostolate of St. Patrick, imparting to it a characteristic glory which for ages has shone with unimpaired, and to-day shines with renewed lustre around his tomb. ms ..: 'h ST. PATKICK AND HIS WORK. To tlio mind of the youthful ratrick, the mission to which Ho was called must needs have presented itself under the most uninviting, aspect. To a man of his time and nation, Ireland was but a iar-olf island, lying beneath the wintry cold, and in- Haoucd by a race of men removed from all peaceful intercourse with the civilised world. It formed no portion of the Roman Ji-mpiro, tor it possessed nothing to tempt the greed, or to attract the political sagacity of the Imperial statesmen. It was not a seat of Icarnmg like Gaul, whose schools were famous even in the ^.ternal City. There were other peoples in Europe, culti- vated and mfiuential, among whom an apostle might hope to win by his labours brilliant victories for God; but betvveen Ireland and the nations around there appeared no communitv of leehng which, after the conversion of the country, mi o-ht be- come the vehicle of Christian influences. Nay, more, he knew we 1 that the Irish had already refused to hear the preaching of ialladius and that this holy man abandoned their land as an untruitf ul field of labour. Besides, he himself had had to suffer at the hands of the Irish people the greatest outrage that man can suller from his fellow-man-the loss of his personal liberty. In his htteenth year he was taken captive and brought to Ire- land, wlicre he was employed in tending sheep, and exposed to the storms of snow, and rain, and wind, that break with such violence on the hills of the north. And vet it was to these men that his thoughts and heart ever turned in love, when, after escaping from captivity, he found himself once more in the midst ot his friends in his own France. For such as these he gave up lis free birth ; for the sake of such as these he left his home and kindred ; for the sake of such us these he steeled his heart as well against the tears of those he loved, as against the brilliant prospects that were displayed Invitingly before his eyes • and, what was harder still for him to bear, for the sake of these he incurred even the displeasure of his elders. But he feared none of fheso things, neither did he count his life move precious thaii himself, so that he might consummate his course and the ministry of the Word which he received from the Lord Jesus, to testify \ ilh what deliberate fulness of purpose, and with what conscious selt-sacrihce he did so, we may learn from his own words In hia Contcssums:— From heaven, he tells us, It was given him "to know and love God. and also that I sliould give up mv home and parents. And many offers were nuide to me with weeping and tears, and I incurred displeasure tliere from some of my elders, contrary to my wish ; but, under the guidance of God, I in no wav rnnsontod nor gave in to them ; yet not I, but the grace of God prevailed m me, and resisted them all, that I migkt como ST. ^^TRICK AND HIS WORK. 45 to preach the Gospel to the people of Ireland, and bear with the ill-treatment of the unbelieving, and that I should be reproached as a foreigner, and have to endure many persecutions, even to bonds, and that I should give up my free birth for the o-ood of others." ^ And what manner of man was he who thus sacrificed the familiar usages of country, home, kindred, liberty, to take instead the ill-treatment of the unbelieving, insults, persecutions, bonds, and life- long servitude ? He speaks of his own attainments in language of the deepest humility, but a single glance at his per- sonal history will show how well fitted he was, by the gifts of nature and grace, for the apostleship of the most illustrious nations. IIis youth was spent in closest intimacy Avith St. Martin of Tours— a man of incomparable merit, whether we view him in the camp or court, or in perils of exile borne for the iaith, or on the desert rocks of the Mediterranean coast, or on the episcopal throne. In his riper years he lived in Lerins— that island sanctuary which was made a paradise not only by the gushing streams, the luxuriant wealth of vines, the fair valleys, and the fragrant scents so lovingly described by St. Eucherius! but still more by reason of the angelic life of its inhabitants.' There ho found the seat of all the knowledge of the age ; for thither had flocked all that was learned, and noble, and saintly in France, and from this glorious band the most illustrious Sees of Europe received their bishops. But to St. German of Auxerre, perhaps more than to all the rest, was St. Patrick in- debted for the qualities that best adorn the man of God. it his feet, as Gamaliel at the feet of the Apostle Paul, he gvew into the perfect ecclesiastic, rich in all learning, and richest of all m the best learning of the saints. The best spur to learnino- is, we are told, the excellence of the master ; what treasures', then, did not St. Patrick store up in mind and heart under the instructions of this great man, who, after having been dis- tmguished for his skill in the conduct of the most important aftairs of the empire, continued, as bishop, to enjoy in a sino-ular degree the respect and admiration of the cmi)eror himself. When St. German visited Britain as a delegate of the Holy See to crush the Pelagian heresy, St. Patrick went with him ; by him our saint was guided through Italy to the court of the em- peror, and, better than all, to the steps of St. Peter's chair in the Apostolic City. St. Patrick's, therefore, was u. mind which, first led in solitude with all the learning of the age, had after- wards been strcngfluaied and polislied by continual' intercourse with men of afl'airs and by all tlie advtMitajr.-g of travel • nnd though these are but human gifts, a virtue ^Icss solid than his might easily have been led astray by the thought that, after so '4!m'^ro and more, and tlie spirit was stirred, so that in a single day I have said as many as a hundred prayers, and in the night nearly the same, so that I remained in the woods ; and on the mountain, even before dawn, I was roused to prayer in snow, and ice, and rain I pray God, therefore, that He may give me perseverance, and that He may vouchsafe to permit me to give Him faithful testimony for my God, even until my deatli ; and if I Inivc done anything good for my God, whom I love, I beseech "Him to grant me that I may poiir out my blood for his name." And these three virtues found their fitting expression in the wonderful austerities, in the ardent love for the souls of the Irish, and in the complete sacrifice of self that pre-eminently distinguished his life. His austerities ST. PATRICK AND HIS WORK. 47 renewed on our island the wonders of Thobaid, where, under the training of St Anthony, men had learned to die to this earth by the practice of the most rigid penances. Kneeling at the feet of he Vicar of Christ at Rome, his heart was filled towards Ireland with that almost passionate love for souls of which the Apostohc See has at all times been the furnace ; " so that " as he tells us, mhis Confessions, "with fear and reverence' and without murmuring, I should faithfully serve the natSn to whom the charity of Christ hath transfcied mo, and gi ^nme for my life as long as I shall survive, and that with humil^y and truth, I should serve them. I am bound in the spirit, and He who witnesseth will account me guilty if I leave thorn and I fear to lose the labour which I ha%e cUmonced and not t thrioi'rhe' r^^t^f t^^''' "^^ '7T:^' ''• t-^ letter to Coroticus : ^< /id I iom; t^ L-ehnd^ tXg'to^G^od or according to the flesh ? Who compelled me ? I was led bv the spirit that I should see my relatives no more. IlaT-e I not a pious mercy towards that nation which formerly took me captive P According to the flesh I am of noble birth; bit I do not ?e Jret or blush for having bartered my nobility for the good of oth'ers I am a sen-ant of Christ unto a foreign people for the ineffable glory of eternal life, which is in Jesus Christ my Lord Christ It was who has raised me up from my neighbours and sons, for whom I l^jvc forsaken my country and parents, and would give up even life i self if I were worthy." 1 nially, his entire life of subhme sacnhce was but the faitliful fulfilment of the vow he had made tliat of his soul and all his aspirations he would make a living victim to his God. ^^ All this he did accomi^lish in his own soul, the grace of God aiding him in his constant labour, and, in addition, how marvel- lous were the successes that crowned his apostolate in this land' the history of the Church on account of the exceptional cirmm stances that attended it. The day-star of faiUi ^!;:"'irC no 11 storm, but m.dly springing. Unlike Jerusalem,^ Ireland killed not the prophets who came to bring her to God's admirable light, nor did she stone those who were!sent to her. AIoih. the roads painfully traversed by other nations in their progress to the Church, you nu,y trace the frequent stains of nu rtfr-blood tltVf ^?' ^",7^^ i ^!-" ?-l-^l' -^d by their earlie' t con- verts. Ireland s j,ath to Christ is strewn only with the garlands saiitSt St'l" \'"r f '.T- ^'^ '^''' e^"'-'^^"^ oon^,any saints who, at St. l»atrick's bidding, went ihvoxv.h the Ynid in evangelise our jiagan fathers, there is not one who carried off save m his heart's desire, the martyr's palm. They preached the ■m^mm^mi'i^^^^i^imwmmmmiym 48 ST. PATRICK AND HIS AVOKK. l\ \ I I I ! I word on a good ground, to a people who, in a good and very good heart, heard it and kept it, and brought forth fruit in patience, (Luke viii. 15). There is an Irish legend embalmed by one of our poets in his exquisite verse, which tells how the daughter^ of Lir, whom some evil power had constrained to wander, imprisoned Avithin the snow-white plumage of a swan, over the lonely waters of Moyle, Avas freed from the dread spell by the first sound of the Mass-bell that ever broke upon the silent solitudes wherein she had languished for ages. Hardly had the first solemn peal floated past her, like a wave of heavenly melody, Avhen, her durance ended, the royal lady rose not only in the full grace and bloom of her earthly beauty, but with her soul purified and brightened by heavenly "influences of faith and love. This is but the history of the conversion of Ireland to Christianity. No tedious and painful process of transformation was required ; and long as she had lain fascinated by a strano-ely masterful superstition, at the first sound of St. Patrick's voice proclaiming one God, the living and the true, she turned quickly aAvay from her idols, and submitted to the law of Christ the strength of her arm, the fire of her intellect, and the love of her heart. And not only did she submit to what Christ com- manded, but she rose at once to the height of the evano-elical counsels. St. Patrick's converts became not only Christians but saints, passing, without resting in any intermediate stage, from the vileness of paganism to the sanctity of the religious pro- fession. St Patrick himself Avas forcibly struck by this special feature :— " Wherefore, behold ! " he cries, " behold hoAV in Ireland they who never had the knowledge of God, and hitherto only Avorshipped unclean idols, have lately become the people of the Lord, and arc called the sons of God. The sons of the Scoti and the daughters of princes are seen to be monks and virgins of Christ .... and of those born again in this way Ave know not even the number." Noav, if the measure of honour paid to the monastic profession by any nation be, as it un- doubtedly is, a safe standard by wli'ich to estimate the degree of religious life that prevails tliei-eiu, hoAV glorious must have been the spiritual fecundity of the early Irish Church thus beautoously floAV-ering forth in this vigorous bloom of virginal youths and maidens ! Among them all there are two, St. Brigid and St. Columba, whose names, even in death, have not been disassociated from that of St. Patrick, and of Avhose precious relics, as of liis, the very earth upon Avhich we stand lias been the slirine. From the spotless soul of St. Brigid— the Mary of Ireland, as our fathers loved to style her — there has over since streamed out on Ireland such a radiance of chastity as alone Avould be sufficient argument Sr. PATRICK AND HIS WORK, 49 of the glory of him whom she reverenced as the father of her soul And in St. Columba we have the type of these scholar- apostles peculiar to the Irish Church, representing, on the one hand, sacred learmng of which its schools were the chief anctu^ urym the west, and on the other, the devouring .eal for the glory of God and the salvation of souls, which St PatnVkL. J bequeathed to his children. So abundant was the f ruf bought forth to God in these monastic schools, that St. Bernard, speakfnl of your own Bangor, applies to the period in which it flourished the words of David : " Thou visitest the earth and waterest it Thou greatly enrichest it ; the river of God is filled with wate ' Thou preparest their corn; Thou makest it soft with showei^- Thou blessest the springing thereof." From these schools'Isued forth year after year, bands of holy men, who, to use the ex pression of the same St. Bernard, pLsed iver Europe 1 ke th^ following waves of the sea. This is not the place to Lell upon wha Scotland owes to St. Columba; and England to S . Aidan and Burgundy, Germany, and Italy, to Columbanus ; and Sw tze" ^ and to Gallus and Fridolin ; and Thuringia to Kilian Let t he enough to say that England in a great part, Scotland, BeKum Switzerland the chief parts of Franco and Germany, and many places of Italy, ma word, almost all the countries thatffoto make up Western Europe, owe to Irish missionaries he r^con! version to the Catholic faith : . .1 is not the glory of all this re- flected back agam upon the ...n whose labours had made of Irdand not only a nation of saints, but also a nation of Tctors r Uut soon, too soon, there came a change— that dreadful settlinr^ down of darkness upon Ireland, foreseen by our sSt S and even ho horrors of that change could not dim the g W of the Apostle of Ireland. Even in his own lifetime a forfig^foe had visited with persecution the Catholics of Ireland His father y heart was torn at the sight of liis suffering flock and in his letter to the ferocious Coroticus, he thus cries out i,; S and soriw : '' O beautiful and well-beloved br thien and fhU 1 en whom I have brought forth in Christ in such mXtude what shall I do for you ? The wicked have prevailed over u ' We have become outcasts. It would .seem that they do not think we have one baptism, and one Fathc, God. They th nk a mdigmty that we have been bom in Ireland. . . . ^ T erefore T grieve for you, O my beloved ones! But, on the other S' I congratulate myself I have not laboured for nothiuc-mv hii/o believed and luive been b place. _ I hanks be to God, ye who paradise. Certiiinly, ye h aptised, have one from earth to no night, nor deatli ivo begun to migrate where ther nor sorrow ; but ye shall exult ve e IS shall 60 ST. PATKKK AM) HIS A\'ORK. ^l| I reign with the apostles, and prophets, and martyrs, and obtain the eternal kingdom." These words sound like a prophetic anticipation of the condition of Irish Catholics imder the penal laws. The brutal prevalence of force over right, with the firo and bloodshed it brings in its train ; the proscription that placed the Catholic outside the reign of the law ; the refusal to consider him as a Christian, or even as a member of the human famUy, mth the natural rights and duties wherewith God has bound man to man ; the insults heaped upon Irishmen in their own Catholic land — are not all these things painted in the glowing words of the afflicted Saint .^ But, thanks be tc God, these efforts were utterly useless ; neither craft nor cruelty could move Ireland from the solidity of her faith ) and in the white-robed army that he beheld ascending from earth to heaven, to take their places with the apostles, and prophets, and martyrs, St. Patrick saw yet another of the glorious results of his own labours, through which Ireland, that had been the nation of Saints and of Doctors, had now become the nation of Martyrs and Confessors. Once again there has come a change over the face of the land. The patient endurance of the faithful people has worn out the malignity of their persecutors, and the fair form of the Catholic Church once more moves among us in her heavenly majesty. And this very change is in itself another striking proof of the success of St. Patrick's apostolate. For, be it remembered, the so-called Reformation was much more a political than a religious movement. Its successes were not due to the iiprising of men's consciences to attest their conviction of the truth of the new doctrines ; but, on the contrary, the movement was the result of plots laid by politicians against the religion of the masses, and executed by help of brute force. But, as a political instrument, Protestantism was equipped with terrible power, and Ireland, bleeding, bruised, aud chained for three hundred years, is a proof of the intolerant ferocity with which that power was em- l)loyed. And yet, in the blessed providence of God, it has come to pass that the first blow dealt since the Reformation against ihe social and political fabric of establislicd Protestantism in l^Airope, has been inflicted by the living faith of Catholic Ireland. The tide of success tliut has carried Prolestantism in friumpli for three hundred years has at length commenced to ebb, and the first shore to beat back its waters has been the shore of St. Patrick's Ireland ! But there is still more : there arc other fruits of the faith of Ireland deserving of our consideration. To the Catliolic faitli do we owe it, that the domestic virtues — the true \'igour of a nation — bloom so luxuriantly beneath the humble roof-tree of ST. PAFRICK AND HIS WORK. 51 the Irish peasant s cottage. In all the weary days of his cease- ess, and often thankless toil, his faith still pats before him that Holy lamily at Nazareth, in which One whom he adores^ his God took upon Himself and upon those He loved, the poor man' lot of povei-ty and hardship, that he might teach the lowlies how to sanctify their lives. Hence come'the spirit of uncel W SdTho ..'^ resignat on, the purity of morals, ?he tender char"? and the other Christian virtues of highest order which in a society perishing from the dissolution of the bonds of the femHy undoubtedly adorn the Irish household. And those who ca^p at the faults into which at times the Irish peasant is betrayed should bear in mind that in the conditions which have h Srto surrounded his life no virtue could have survived unless S hearts subdued by the strongest power of relio-ion It almost passes belief that a people who, a few generations ago, were shut out from all securl ai^^i valuable propeftrshould ft i *^^'^ y^^y r^f.r> tave covered the faceif the kndS he thousand noble edifices their faith has raised to the honour of wtr A /'^r. 1*^' '"^T"^' ""^ f°^ '^' spread of know- leage ! And while his was doing at home, the Irish race wis Tnrfhf L^trofltTV'l^^'t' '^^™- whithersoe^elit nr^.J \ {^ ''^. ^V ^f^Y"^' ^"^ ^^^««^^ the foundation-stone ot new churches in lands beyond the seas. In Australia in North and South America, in India, in Africa, in the islands of the great oceans, trom where the sun rises to ^'here he sets the poor exik^ of Erin have built up the Catholic cTurch g 'vW the embraceof the Mother of Souls more children by mfS than all the guilt of the Reformers had tern from LTarms fCllT ""^ t^^^r ??-tive land, they took their journey alo^t he highways opened by commerce or ^yar-emfcs>banf. It ^^"^s hard to leave the loved ones that were sleeping in the quio •Srrt. • ^' T' ^''^ *° ^''''' '^' niotherVh^ bore them- ml^■.■ 52 IUKLAXD's offering to the SACllED HEART. Ill as the generous strength of their youth. And as each fresh sheaf oi the mighty harvest gathered by this nation of apostles is earned before God and presented as the fruits of our Saint's labours on earth, St. Patrick's lips will repeat the prayer he had so often uttered when on earth, that through the mercy of the Lord he may never at any time lose that people whom God has given into his hands. That prayer shall be heard, and Ireland's perseverance in the faith delivered to her by St. Patrick shall be the crowning o-lory of the marvellous work achieved by the lowliest among the Apostles ! If any man doubt it, let this Church rebuke him by the memories with which it is peopled. It is in very truth a Me- morial Church. Placed hero by Catholic Ireland, near the tomb of her Patron, its stones will ever cry to God : Be mindful, Lord, of our David, and of all his meekness How he swore to the Lord, that he would give no sleep to his eyes, and no rest to his temples, until he should build up among IIS a tabernacle to the God of Jacob. For the sake, then of IJavid thy servant, let not the face of thy Christ be ever turned away from us. . . But here, in this Ireland, let thy rest be tor ever and ever : here mayest thou dwell, for it is the place of thy choice. Blessing, thou shalt bless her widows, and her poor T^r~l.°^ *^^-^ ^^® many— thou shalt fiU with bread ; thou shalt clothe her priests with salvation, and her enemies with confusion, and may thy sanctification shine forth for ever upon this people of whom he has made a nation of saints, of doctors, of martyrs and of apostles ! "^ ' I fit' IRELAND'S OFFERING TO THE SACRED HEART. " Stude sapientiK, fili mi, et Ixtifica cor meum ut possis exprobranti re- spondere sermonem," i/iuuiauLi il give an ' Study wisdom, my son, and make my heart joyful, that thou mavest an answer to him that reproaelieth."— Prqv. xxvii. U. 'nayest From all eternity the Almiglity Father found his ineffable delio-ht m the co-eternal wisdom wliich He possessed in the beoinimif these causes due ac oun has not always been taken. No matter how fair the outwaM seeming of each university that then presen od itsel ?ts success was hindered by one serious drawback. The language 'nd ai >^?r"r'' the language of Ireland-it wore the^Sn and an of a stranger; it was not warm with Irish blood— it had Ireland pined with longing for the stores of learning it had i^ut when the vision that had disappeared in the Catholic times reappeared in he reign of Elizabeth, the Faith of Ireland r^se S^Ter ofTS'' 1; ^'^"'/^i *^"^^ ^'^ ornaments were th^ dowrv fl.f ^ " f ^'' /"^ "( *^" ^^^"^^'^ «f ^^^ saints-its tZZ\ T'\^ ^^''^ ^'"""^ *^" weak-its doctrines the con- demnation of all that her children reverenced. It was the of a r fLf *^\«^^^^1^^ 7"^^ b^'^k again, flaunting, in the face her .pI.? /f'^"' ^^^Sr^-" '^'^^ '^^ ^^''^d l^^^™<^d during aS?.. W .T'"- .,^^^^\^«^^W Ireland do but close heart Dkilest fvrf " . 'a""' ''' r'^ ^''"'^' *^^ P'-^^^^^^^ to endure her pitiless tyranny ? Again, however, a change has come. The rndlo''tw"r''^..'^"p University has ris^en up against her and ^ • ^«f i"'"" *^" Pro estant University has di^eared ana, m us stead, a new University, as unblushingly godless as iLlTr TiTr ^^^^^^^"^' ^^ presented for .^cc'^tancT in the pi If Ireland turned coldly away from the stranger m the Heformation period-if she rejected the Protestant Educalo'niflrTlaXir/thJ'Rirt Son"w^ 'e ^^f^f J^'-^^-fto Vni.ersity Murray, 1873, page 2.5 ^ ' ^^ ^^^'^^^^ne. M.P. Lonflon : IUELAND's Ori'EUlNG JO THE SACRED HEART. 67 University because it was the foe of the religion she loved— with what scorn docs she not look upon the University that hii^i cast off its baptism to secure for itself a few more years of existence ? But, at length another fair and graceful vision of an University meets the gaze of Ireland ! No stranger this one, but the bone of our bone, and the flesh of our flesh ; no follower of false religions, but beautiful with the beautv of the holiness of the Sacraments, keeping, amid the fullest treasures of Science, the true Faith ; with the blessing of Peter on hor brow, and the sweet name of Mary, the Seat of Wisdom, engraven upon her heart ; no_ slave of infidelity, but with the faith and love of Jesus Christ glowing in her soul, and boldly proclaiming to the world, that though now-a-days Christ is to some a stumbling- block, and to others foolishness, to her He is the power of God and the wisdom of God.* Like some royal bride bearing in her bosom the hopes of empires, this Catholic University carries within It the best— I had almost said the only— hopes of Catholic Ireland. It is the visible symbol of principles without which Christian hberty is impossible in this land. It is a protest against the tyranny which would violate the sacred rights of parents to control the education of their children. It is a protest "f^iJis* tbe tyranny that would refuse to the Church the exercise of her heaven-given prerogative of guarding the Faith of those who call her the mother of their souls. It is a protest against the mutilation of education by banishing from the schools the knowledge of God and of the supernatural order. And it does more than protest against what is wrong and false ; it asserts what is right and true. It asserts that Faith and Eeason are not necessarily foes, but rather twin lights of various orders to conduct man to the knowledge of truth. It asserts, with the Vatican Council, that the Catholic Church, far f^ om opposing the highest culture in human arts an^l learning, promotes it and helps it on. It asserts, with the - p.. e Council, that the Church does not forbid the sciences to fuv'^y, each in iU sphere, its own proper principles and its own proper method ; that she holds the liberty of so doing to be one of tne just liberties of science; but that this liberty must not be abused for tiie destruction of Christian faith. It asserts the just claims of the Irish Catholic to all the educational privileges and helps that are given to others. On it depends the future of Ireland, for the education given to this generation of Irishmen will colour lor centuries the history of our country. Towards this Uni- versity Ireland's spirit of Faith turns in love ; and this is the offering which on this day she humblv presents to Jesus Christ. 1 Cor. i. 23, 24. 58 Ireland's offering to the saciiel> heart. i ■! n I Can we conceive a nobler act of national Faith ? The Catholic TJmversity is the fruit of Ireland's Faith, gathering up in itseS a of good that has been purchased by the^ sufferings^f hree Heart of ^tT- p^/. f ^ ^^^^^^^^^"^ ^' to-day to^the Sacred ileart of Jesus Chnst, Ireland declares that the continuity of that profession of Faith shall be unbroken. Ey it she proclaims i^Znfl .T- ' "'1"^ ^^^* ""'^"" ^^^t^' ^«^' lif^' ^«r things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth loveTfVnS" v";!""' ^^J^f • '^^ ^^^'^ ^^ -P-«te her from the love of God, which IS in Christ Jesus our Lord.* nff.r;Z ill J ^""'l ir^^"" ^^ *^^^* ^" choosing to address her oifenng to the Sacred Heart, since no other devotion could be more consoling to C!hrist, none more fruitful of c^races to her children For what is the object of this devotio. '• the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ ? Pius VI. tells us that ' .. subsSe of his' W'^ 'Tt ^'!;'^^"' '^^^^^^'i^^* '^' «3-bolical image of his Heart we should meditate on the boundless charity aiu I outpoured love of our Divine Redeemer." The Ileart of Jesu t in;iTof ' '^""^^'-^'^ ^^" ^°"^' '"^^'^^^ every other real 3 tTm.lT •^^^r^^^^^'l^ion to the three distinct elements that whichTfLPt#'"'^^l^"^^"^^*^^= fir«%' to the .9/^/,. itself, of ftl W f ^ ^'^^'^ ^^^"'^' inseparably united to the person of the Word, and therefore adored by the faithful without u/uchd ts the mjn, namely, our Divine Redeemer's loCe ; thirdly, to the remon why the Heart of Jesus is the symbol of his love wT^' ^^'T'' "^'^^ ^"^''"''^^^ connexion ^naturally existinc:: between the human heart and the affections of the soul. Now froni our consideration of those three points, there springs up in the devout soul a triple act of love-of adoring love, due to th^^ ^Itfr' "^ ^r^^-'.^f ^P-rably united with the Godhead ; of grateful love awakened by our Redeemer's immense love for us • and of penitent love, answering with its poor sympathy the sorrows with winch that Sacred Heart was racked for^ou^sins Ileart "^nulV" '' *^.? ^'T' *'^^^ °* *^^^ ^^^'^^^"^ *« ^he Sacred it irk ? 1 ^^^'PP^-./ln-ice happy, those pure souls who taste of And Lo ;r' ""^^''^^•^^"^^l with the blessings of its sweetness! W which ft "'TrT''-'^^'^^ ^'' ^^^^' ^« '^''^ '^'^^^ «°lit«'T Hear oJt' ^^II^, "^^y Scriptures tells us, belonged to the folio vof I I,- W ^'l* r^ ^"« i^3' in the simple faith of his D r 7 J '^t¥^^^'*^^^^ i^ },j. Father and in his own Divine na ure. St. Luke fx. 21) tells us how in tha same hour He rejoie.d in the H.ly Ghost, and said :"T confess * Kom. viii. .'JS, ;)!). Ireland's offering to the sacred heart. 59 to Thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast re- vealed them to the little ones. All things are delivered to me by my Father, and no one knoweth who the Son is but the Jather, and who the Father is but the Son, and to whom the Son will reveal Him." And may we not hope that the adoring love which springs from the contemplation of the Sacred Ileart will renew this joy of our Lord. His second joy was in the consciousness of being beloved by his own : "These thino-s," He told them (John, x. 11) " have I spoken to you, that my%y may be in you." And of what else did He then speak except of txctc furnace of his love which ever glows in the Sacred Heart ? It was just after the institution of the Eucharist, and just before the agony in the garden, and yet in the midst of the sorrow of separation from his own, and in the very shadow of death, the Sacred Ileart found joy in the thought of the grateful love of his children. And wliat else is the Sacred Heart ever repeating to us but these same things that Jesus spoke of on that saddest night ? And when our liearts are warmed by its silent eloquence does not our grateful love give fresh joy to our Lord ? His third joy was that joy of heart which He felt on the day He was crowned for our sake with the crown of thorns, to which allu- sion is made in the Canticles, when we are called on* " to go forth, and see Our King with the diadem wherewith his Mother had crowned him on tlie day of the joy of his heart." That crown of thorns He yet wears on his Heart, and the penitent love it must needs excite in our souls will, indeed, bring back to Him the day of his joy. And thus the triple stream of love that flows into our hearts from the Heart of Jesus is allowed to return in waves of gladness to its Divine source. Blessed, then, be that Ileart, which teaches to our coM souls so many happy secrets of love ! And thrice blessed be it in this time and place, for nowhere are its life-giving graces more needed to-day than in the great seats of learning. There, more than elsewhere, men luive forgotten how to adore and how to love; the name of Christ has been cast out from academic halls as if ic were an un- clean tiling ; a id in every avenue to every science the prof essors of inhdelity have laid snares for thoughtless youth, that so they may slay in tlieir unwary souls the faith of Chn'st. Not thatiii the beginning, at least in our country, those men openly dis- honour Christ or his doctrines ; but, rather, like the destroying angels that smnk! the first-born in Egypt, they set themselve's to their work under cover of darkness— the darkness caused by tho systematic exclusion of Christian knowledge. They know well that he who knows nor, Clirist will not adore him ; and * Cult, of Cant, iij. 11. 60 1RKLAM)'S Ol-FERING TO TIIK SACRKD HEART. therefore do they forbid iu the schools the language of Catholic heoogy, each term of which, St. Gregory ^of Nyssa tells u! L %; ^''f'^'^ '?''' breathing tho fragrance of God. Now Doctrine Tin''"'-;' ^f^'f " compendium of all Christian' nivli P ^t'^'t"* ^°'^ '. ^''""^^ ^"d the distinction of the f^lTl 7r"' ' .?^ Incarnation of the Son, the Ileality of his ?nn.t ?)■ -'T^^ ^^' ^9'^^V^vahle union of the two natun-s ?ovv?lC"' J^"''"''' '"^ ' 'P '^" ^^'^^^^^"'^ ^''^ t^^der mysteries Heart the gaze of an enlightened faith, Catholic students will fnc/ln :^ \ r n"'"" ^^ ^."^'-'"^"^ knowledge. And the ador- hfmT/h fi '"p'Ji""f -^'^ '^^^ '^•'^^"^" knowledge will be to mTl V f ^7 °^, *^'i ^'"'^' temptation that meets "them, as the ; mfons i, t' lr\ ''^"" '''''\ ^"^"^ '''^^ ^^'^"^« ^^^d his eom- \ZZ 1 • r'""'"' A"^. "^^^^ *^^ "^^d^<^ of tlie furnace mH.b iLn. "^'"^ n'"r^ ^""""^- ^^^^^' ''''^ t^^« fire ^vill not touch them, nor trouble them, nor do them any liarm * • A '? "^:M"V°''^ ^'^"^ """^f^^^- It ^'o'^ld seem as if a pmsoned breath had passed over modern science, blasting its hgh asp.ra ions, and killing its sy.npathies with whatever is noble and elevated in the destiny of man and of the world. It positively cannot, or will not, see in man anything but the brute natural development, witliout an immortal soul, without free- will, without a true moral sense, without the image of God rPv^:i".';!o ' "' '' ''"*! T%'''''' ^^'"^ possibility of a supernatural reN elation opening out before man the surpassingly fa r vision (, f a supernatural order, in which his place is little ll than tCof the ai.gels. so tenderly and so fully is his life encompassed by Gods loving care, and so glorious the end towards which his s^ tTo', "t '^'rf "I'l ^"'^ ^'ccordingly, its wiiole study is to subject to a solvent criticism the records of revelation, in order to degrade them to the rank of ohl-worid legends. All in vain does nature, and history, and the insatiable cravings of mans eenc?"i/';^' '"V^^^ ''ving God. plead with thi'^ brutalised .science in favour ot a rocngnition of our matchless dignity ; no Z^Zh' " ?"i '-IT '■' ,*'!"^^"^ '^'' '^'V^^'' »f niaterfalism and sensuality in which it buned itself. Alas ! in losing its faith in God s ove, It has lost the key to tlio mysteries of The universe whll tT''f 'y.TV^'^^'^'f i''^'t abyss of wisdom and of love which is the San-ed Heart of Jesus, will Hnd all these mysteries Wh^shairV" '^"^ ^'^'■' 1 ''^^'r^^^ 1-e that glows iherein Who shal dare, even m thought, to question the dignity of that creature tor whose elevation God's love bridged ov^r the sp'ioo * Daa., iii, 4!), u<). irkland's offkiuno to the sacred heart. 61 between heaven and eartli in the Incarnation — for whom the Eucharist was instituted — for whose dear sake the pains of the Passion were borne ! And who will find even the In- the prophet in the wilderness; and that He could make the corn to spring forth at the touch of the orphan's hand, or on the place whereon his feet had stood But continually to have recourse to means such as these would be to supersede his ordinary bv an extra- ordmary Providence to destroy the reign of law in nature; and make of the miraculous the rule and not the exception This He has not wished to do. Since, therefore, on the one hand. He has pledged Himself to give his creatures meat in the season, and sr^.ce, on the other hand. He will not usually have recourse to supernatural methods of providing for them the promised sup- port, does It not plamly follow that He has made their mainte- nance a charge upon the good things with which his ordinary Providence blesses the earth from year to year ? Xo matter^ therefore, into what hands God's bounteous gifts to the world may pass ; no matter who among men may become their m-o- prietor, there clings evermore to the possession of them the obli- gation of succouring God's afflicted creatures. And when the cry of the homeless, famished, forlorn outcasts, for whom I plead to-day, rises to heaven and penetrates to the Creator's heart. He refers its prayer back to earth to those whom Pfo has constituted owners of what the Apostle calls (ho substance of this world the good gifts M-hich at his bidding bounteous nature produces for he supijort o man. To-day, through my words, lie addresses to you the petition of fallen women who have cried to Him from the depths of their distress, and from you He asks in their be- luilt the succour without which they must p.«rfsh l.odv aiul -nul ilow many squander wliole fortunes to compass frail woman's degradation; and shall it be possible that while ihe world's I THE HOUSE OF THE GOOD SHEPHEIil). Aspatias revel in luxury you will allow Christ's Magdalens to starve P Especially since in return for your almsgiving God promises you spiritual blessings beyond all price. We aic too apt to forget that in God's universe things material and things spiritual fit into each other, and work together a pari , of one harmonious whoL . The order of grace does not circle in dis- tant space round the sensible creation, as a planet of lart^er might course round one of narrower orbit, without contact^'or commmghng. On the contrary, God has chosen material ele- ments to be the vehicles of spiritual benefits to man. Thus words spoken by human lips to human ears convey to the hearer's soul the doctrines of that faith without which" it is impossible to please God. Sensible matter dul, wedd( d to sensible form in the sacraments becomes the channel of sacramental grace And so in a reiuarkable degree, does it h.ippen with almsgiving Ihe material act , '^ *^''' '^^^'"^^^ purchasingfro^motheTrS^ffliStvSiUstlltTfo 68 i'HE HOTTSK OF THK (iOOTt SlIEPIIERl). render m its own person and from the fitful outponrines of sentimental benevolence ; it is a true, living, and working love and like all true_ love, it has its foundation in the amiable qualities oi is object And if vou ask me what titles to the r ovc do the Nuns of the Good sLpherd discover in their pen - tent sisters, I answer, the same that Mary the Mother of God recognised in :Mary Magdalen. In the Magdalen, kneeling be- fore Jesus pouring out her precious ointment on the feet that had 80 o ten grown weary in search of her soul, and washing them .nth her tears, Mary recognised a soul that loved he? Son, nnd oved Him with an exceeding love. In the Magdalen, defended by Christ against the cruel Pharisee, Mary recognised a soul whom her Son loved, and loved much, for the mfasure of the divine pardon is the measure of the divine love and much was forgiven her because she was loved much as well as for her own exceeding love. In the Magdalen clasping the toot oi the cross and glistening with the priceless drops of the sacrihcial blood Ihat had fallen upon her from the Saviour's wounds, Mary reverenced the first-fruits of her Son's bitter passion. And ever since, to pure hearts like Mary's, the vilest and meanest among penitent women appear, shin ng with a triple beauty as loving Christ, as loved by Christ, and as ho dear fruit of his sufferings. There is not one among the fal en ones for whom I plead to-day who, in the call she has received penonce does not possess a sure pledge of these three privi- leges of the Mngdalen, but it is in the home of the Good Shepherd alone that this pledge can be fully redeemed. lUs for you to introduce her there. If it is your iuty to be generous towards her because she is one of God's suffei-ing creatures miserable even among the miserable, does not your obligation become the stronger when you remember that this mistrablo being has capabilities of noblest spiritual excellence which without your aid must be lost and with your aid can be brought to marvellous perfection. If at all times it is a duty to reliSve physical suffering, much more rs it a duty when the relief of physical suffering puts a stop to moral evil, and, most of all, ^^ hen together with removing physical and moral evil the help you give has power to repair the havoc both had made in God's creature, and to sanctify to God a soul and a body that had long been desecrated. To assist the House of the Good Shepherd it is therefore to perform a work of manifold charity, and such as raises you to become in a singular degree, fello.iVorkers with vZ' 1 . • °"^^' '* ^'°'' '"PP-y «^^l^«r and food to the homeless, starving penitent, you co-operate with God the Father £ viT^^^^M' ^'^° ^^^'^^ ^^^ maintains in his rre.-.fnres fl- o-ift oi life. ^\ hen you snatch her from the occasions of sin so fatal THE HOUSE OF THE GOOD SHEPHERI). 69 to her fniilty, you co-operate with God the Son, who came to redeem us from guilt, men you place her within the convent walls, withm daily reach of the grace that flows from thesacra- wft}. f!;! Tr"; ^«^«r-ff l;ng fountains of mercy, you co-operate with the Koly Ghost, the Sanctifier of Souls. Of those who were fellow-workers with the apostle in his sacred ministry, St. 1 aul declared that tlieir names were written in the Book of Life ±low great then, the assurance of salvation that belongs to those who have become fellow- workers with God Himself ' And now, dearly beloved brethren, I conclud'rby addressing dressed by our Saviour to the Pharisee to each of you the words addre concerning the Magdalen : " Dost thou see th[s wonTanT'^^Look at her as homeless, tempted, cast out, despairing, she approaches the door of the home of the Good Shepherd thtt stands in the midst of your houses. Li^-e Magdalen she is attracted by the v^.'n''?' I" r" •.') ^""Sr^^^^ Magdalen, she has no beautiful vise flagrant with costly unguents whercAvith to honour Ilim. She has only a wasted life and a broken heart to bring to Him but yet her soul tells her He will not reject her. F^r her Tn f.onv on ff ' Fr*'^ " P"i"' --d«l^--«And remorse, and c;ue1 ^^,?^V if *^?/*?^" P^^^^^' 1?^'«' pardon, and the Good Shepherd. But of herself she is not able to open the door ; without youi- he p she must remain shut out from the blessings that are aliCt 7o. i 1 -?? '\^ ^^^"'^ *« ^«^' ^^'V''^'- «I^« looks to you for help ; God wishes that you should help her. " Dost thou ^David Tr 1 ' ^^r r^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^-^ -- looked 1 W as David looked on Bethsabee. and their look brought shame and rum upon her. For the honour of humanity, is there no shaVundo''^^ '''^^ l<^«k on her with a look of compassions death r^-Do^t T"" "^ '?!?■ ^''^' V'''' ""''^ «ave her from death.'' Dost thou see this woman .P" Often before to-dav upon the Magdalen, and her heart is cut with their unkind fcrno !*,f^^^r'l-^" *'r "^^^^ ^^^^-d word: Ld a"s Is tHere no one who, like our Saviour, will take account of the andTidT'-l' ? ^"' ^.^^^■*' ^^^ ^^"-^ ^- t-rs asTey f n! and bid her broken spirit take courage? And vou mv brethren, how will you look upon her ? Will you see her wS the eyes of the Pharisee or vW the eyes of Christ? "Dost tVr.4tthrnr; Jt^^Pr^-f Christ have seen h irsTliWwTl, •\^^^?'' ^"'i. mother, and all the golden joys ot life, that their hearts, emptied of all other love mio-ht be entirely for her, and they toil their strength awLv and wWw'ht"^ %r'T -"« that they'mThS'cn^ V I crewith to satisfy her hunger. Is there no one to help them to keep a roof over their heads, and to rescue them from bein^ "***:■•'», 70 THE CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS. house that God has built for her amoi a. ? ^^f.* «"* fro^ the this woman ? " U<.u^ rV-\ T ^ i°^^ '^ ^'^^^ thou see iJ Tt the foot of 1^1 ^'' ^ ^'' " t^« Magdalen stand- ^ t^God r '-'^^ ^^^'y - open S^tt^pTer N^^! £i|.|^p&3-r:?E^:si;Si^ xnuch S tith^ i'^h^Tstn^o^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ''' ^^^^^ IF THE CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS. Inm, Wlio art il,ou, that we mav a?vl .„ " \' .,They saul therefore unto sayest thou of thj4elf ? HeTakl^ am thf ''"■ *° V^'*" *''''^' ^''"^ "«• What derness: Make straight the wav of th? ?I%"' mT "'y^'S i" the wil- Joiix, i..l9-i'3. ^ '^ ^°''*^' *^ «^"i the Prophet Isaias."— Eaptis-^'wh'!!;o^f''^f^ ^^ ^1^? P'^^^^^°^' 0^ C^r^«t' St- John the lidpt.s,, whose feast we celebrate to-day, is a type of the offipp belongmg to the Catholic Church as the teachi? of men His an apparition perplexing it with^onder and dTsu^y Who hus'st'r'nV't rebu^""''^*"^°'i ^^^^ ^« thisWda' cukuredeafe witlfh tr"[ P^'"'"^* ''''''' ^^^ ^^ disturb our S fXre pt nishment ^ '"^T"' to penance, and his threats ChS ^For rT I- f^"" '^ ^^'.'* ^'^^^ ^^t^ ^^^ Catholic ^^niircn. tor now nineteen centuries she has traversed the f-i I THE CRY FROM THK WILDERNESS. 71 earth, unearthly in her origin, in her power, in the lu-.miy of her holiness, and in every age she has been confronted by men asking her, now in anger, now in love, now in hatred, as the Jews asked John, "Who art thou? what sayest faou of thyself ?" And, like John, she has ever answered, " 1 am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make straight the wav of the Lord. ' No two words are less becoming on human b'ps than these two words, /r/w. God alone has the right to say, " I ana who am." The history of man's greatness, man's glory,' must be told in other speech. Fuii Trnja, et ingens gloria. Alone among all institutions on earth the Catholic Church can say, "lam;" for the "I am" of her priesthood is contained in the eternal " Thou art a priest for ever," spoken by God to his Son, her J?ounder. With this simple assertion of her existence she has triumphed over the enemies that have ever besot her ixith. When 1 agan emperors arose with sword in hand and every implement of torture to crush her for daring to dispute their tyranny, she answered, "I am;" and the successor of the pontilts whom they slaughtered took his seat u])on their vacant throne. When Arianism came forth to deny the divinity of Christ,^and i.^ake tho only-begotten Son of the Father that leathers creature, and when the entire world, seduced by its wiles, shuddered at finding itself almost enveloped Jy its hateful doctrine, the Church said, "I am," and Arianism with its baneful power became a thing of the past. When savac^e nations pnd savage hatreds were in the ascendant, and Christian civilisation was on the point of being extinguished in blood once more the Church asserted herself, and Attila retired before -Leo And later on, when the empires she hciself had raised would have laid impious hands upon her liberties, she broke their bonds by declaring that she was the spouse of Christ, and triumphantly exercised the freedom He had given her; and later still, when at the so-called Reformation the nations of il-urope rose up against their Mother, and when a thousand voices re-echoed Luther's boast that he was the death of the papacy, once more she said, "i am ;" and, lo ! she finds in the new world more children by miUions than she had lost in theold.^ Whilst Protestantism is crumbling around her she Jives victorious and triumphant. What, then, if to-day the Governments of the earth have broken with her? what if in tHeir Cabinets statesmen are busy weaving bonds wherewith to cripple her hberty ? As wax is wont to melt be+'ore the sun, so shall their bonds disappear and they themselves perish, whilst she shall endure. Already this terrible truth is being recognised m that Germany which has taken the first rank amongst the persecutors of the Church. " This struggle must cease," cries 72 THE CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS. I- f I ' I I hostile to relS and to P^^ • ' ?T^' f '^' ^^^^^^^s exercised thei^work of ^ ^^"-f'^^'X ^ave for many years too evident aid Tck.nwl ^ 7i?*'T ^^'^ '^^ consequences are the scCl the famfW^'"^ ^^.*^" ^^'^ ^^''^^- The State, without reLion and^ {7°"' T^t" ,^^" ^^ ^^"^^^ *° V^^ces the evils of ?oclirsm.JF'*- S^"'' ^^ ^^^^ ^° ^^^ ^^^o absolutelvnecesarvon^f ''''"! *^" P,T.^,°^ revolution, it is '^hereistZri!; 1^ /'r""^ fourteen hundred years ago com b t ^:Sailk.'''"^^^^^^^^ ^^ - d-^^ S sav that she ? TW r'^'f T' , "^^^ ^^'^^^ ^«^« *^^ Church the scom4e of God The t' ' ^ ^fr^'"■'^ ^^"^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^« ^-« the sword^ of the Most IS'^'T^^r^* ^?'''^ *« ^^^^ ^^^^^^If herself th-.flhn' I? ■^^' ^^^ Catholic Church savs of weakir thfnahl^^^^^ °^ ^^^h nothing n^an himself riSt of ' h^/ f "1^^ ^'^^^'^^ ^^^'^^^ i*' «"3 belie his Ais'/lndttVtl^^^^^^ t^^^^^ tion the link thit -t.,W S' ! , ^^'}^ ^^ by divine mstitu- with God - flH.nl \ 1?' ^''^r'^^ '^'^^ *^« eternal-man andhorshallthev vr " T^ ^" ''"""'^ "^^^^^ they believe, hear uaSft^^'^re^tri'^^^ I^T ^M^ ^V voice of thf A ^'^"f >^ t«:^^rds man is none other than the manorCe'nobTe Fl5'''"°^".*•^'^?^"^^ ^^«^^ ^^°^"^hy of free ^Wll He Ilim o^^^ P^°^^'^^^« ^^' ^'^^^P^ct for tl?e ii i,a THE CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS. 73 the right use thereof. It was this voice, noble in its weakness since through a mighty army of preachers, has shaken the cnilisation. And its power was not human, for it was the voice Lih rn^''^ "^'^^ ''t.'^T. ^^y^^g ^^ '^' wilderness who S both God and man. The Holy Scriptures tell us of three r -s- tenous cries uttered by our Lord during his mortaUife &«; herXr \f "fi 7^''^T^ ^ the Catholic Church, and L in St n?ir r S"f T' *^ ''y,°' ^'^^^S> of which we read in bt. Luk (ix. 54), when He took the dead girl's hand in his and cried out, "Maid, arise." and her spirit returned and she arose immediately. There is no healing f?r the sins and sorrows of men, whe her in the individual, or in the family or in the t^^^rof\•""^^'^^^'^-^^^^"«^ *-«^ ^^ chHst and t construS spbL 71^^'^S ""''''- • ^'' ^^^^ ^^ philanthropists seeic remedies for the ills that harass men; there is a denth in human sorrow and an unfathomable ab^ss of woe ^vS ^o science can reach, and which demands a divine comforter Tha? ^vine comforter speaks only in the Catholic ChuTh mere else save m the Catholic Church do you find the tribunal of penance, m which, over heads bowed lovj with s'n, the R deemer's L heavirt Tlf '^'^'"^ "^^ ">^ ^^ 1"^-^ «- earth islood in neaven^ Is there a single form of human suft'erino- of physical misery, for which thi Church has not elabSed sorn^ rehgious order in which the virtue of Christ's restor ri^touch lives and operates ? The second of ChviJ.Z ^f . ^^S touch the cry of\ith with ^h^^ aste '^ d^7l C^^^^^^^^ ilhhtnh. 7 A . ]^^f ^ «l«e «ave in the Catholic Church is taith to be found to-day ? Faith is a belief, not upon humm but upon dnme authority, and is it not a simple C thaTno do tW^^"^^.^^^^^^^ '? «P-kwith divineiutho % ? Kay! shariTn the Sfof %^'lk'^-r^'^^l^ ^"^ ^'' *^-r rivals a??; fflTfv n/f If i^f""ibility, without which there is no cer- St L: CaS nj *^V^r ration of God's written Word ? come to Me and drink?'' a! „ u "']>:P^^n thirst, let him converted Pa^.;n.n? a • T*^^"" °^ ^''*«^y' «^*^ ^^^^e has thoS «>,o T 1 ''' ^"'^ 3^ *^^ S^^'*^^ uphea^^ng of modern !!-?^^!l '^^'^^on« ?ff«rs a rational basis for faith Comnared i^^nt:Zal7l^'''''7'f ^^^ 'r< how^ LordaTlhe iu - fSr ?f^ r^- ^^^fl'^ting opinions that ceasolossly rend thoir r -J "i'^'^'^"' communions, until their followers "n their despair declare positive doctrines to be unnecessary and 74 THE CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS. tbirVo1"rh!^f'^' weaknesses of an emotional religion. The Sal Id L T 1- ' r-'P"'*'^* H"'''. *° true bread of'^Ufe eteinal, and the chalice of perpetual salvation. And as Christ sTe atne'Zddl "■'^"°"■"■ '" "^ °™ -crifict so he a"d youthful LevL thotS-thattLfhrTp^e frevt' d become 'iKT ^T ^-^r' ""^ '^^ Pleasure' ofl™: .tiici oecome, like bt. Paul, crucified to the world -m flip wn^U po "ertroTSit: ""?■ f ^';%i"""^ ^-s tkrs™ t^"^^ 1„„ I' «l>astity, and of obedience, and for her alone as St Aigustme say, "flowers forth the beauteous bloom of chaste youths and maidens whom she consecrates to the Lord" TOh .Y0.ce thus one with the voice of Christ, how truv does sht Aan a J ^^.-^ , ; e.i'strer fhl patrChrh^S it f tho 1 '' w ^" "• " P"'"''^"' ™M '£« a mosphere is dark he shocklrconlT''''' ""'^■""' T*. ''^8"' *° f™Me belta h anrl^|::zSL^:sStt:;i;:firrLS°,-«^^^^^^ i ef r T « • "^^^'^ ^^'«"^^^ f^iin blot out the eternal mornl He must be a Go^d tnikn^^^t^l^d ttn S^^^^^^^^^ ^'^f ' of in.t ?,^tns sV •"'"''" • ' d'f olutiou of principles and thevlyo^th^Tod"^^^ "' tlie wilderness: 'Prepare ye andm^pvl T\\' ' """^ ^«r words are at oiico a prophecv and an exhortation-a prophecy addressed to the enemfes oJf FOR AN ORPHANAGE. 75 religion, and an exhortation addressed to u.g. She has livpd long enoughto know by experience that there is no counsel no power no wisdom agamst the Lord ; she knows that He who out of the evil of the first sin drew the priceless blessingrof redemption-He who made the hands of guilty Jews onel tho Wains of the Precious Blood-He who Ltihe en p'?e al ke 01 Caesar and of savage to the purposes of his Church, wiU in the I'Xt!'''"^'^''; 1^"^^^ ^"'^ '? ^"^^ «^1^^^*^«^ from oit dp!fi f • ""^^ ^^* ^°°'^ ^P"^ *^^ ^«^1^- She sees that the destructive agencies now at work are destroying t'.e evils of the past as weU as the good, and secure in her immortal e^stnce confident m the power that sustains her, she can afford to wak! The future is hers, for it i . God's, and God has given it to her and therefore does she prophecy to her fo.. that thev are hi; clearing the ground for he? operations and prrplingMe w^y' of the Lord. But to us her words are words of exhortation She would have us prepare the way of the Lord in our own ^t^^r^ ''''''^^' ^'' P^*^« ^y '^' l^«li^^^« of our lives! lear. (i »,. xxviii.) What though the waters are rising and lor the voice of the Lord is upon the waters ; what though lie cedars on Lebanon, the mighty of the world stand aSstus XceT"2J^L\\l''t''^ '^' ''^^'^ ^'^d reduces^hem to pieces what though the flames appear and threaten death the voice of the Lord divideth the flames of fire ; what thr''<^h' the TsertorSe: ^iV'f Tf if *^^ ^^^^ shall shale he desert ot Cades, and the Lord shall s t Kiim for ever anrl will ^ih t::s^ A ''' ''T'^' r' *^^ '^''''' -1^ bir hirpeopt' Mitfi peace. Ages after the present danger, when the vorv names of ut-r enemies shall be for-ot^en the fWb w^n 7 chanting her eternal ''lam;" and with herVoewkan^^^^^^^^^ as now, ye' strong as the voice of Christ, she w sttk ^rd^ and ourof % Wli^ "^' ?' ^^^^^^^^^ *« generatioia cZe ana out ot t le desert of man's crimes and man's weaknesses sbp will prepare the way of the Lord and make straight hi patht'' FOK AN ORPHANAGE. "Tnl.: this child, and nurse hhn for me: I will give thee thy wages."- 76 FOB AN ORPHANAGE. oi me ivue, Out by the life-gmng waters of the baDtismal font • not ,„ presence ot the great ones of the earth, but rSlKf he angels of heaven ; not from an earthly sovereim brtfrom chUdfen wlrdust if „TdutvI 'r,d"?f*^ "^P^"" I havts"'Sh= thittt^^ ra h::^s :s is aU a mother's tenderness and a mother's love Se it and W It up-not for yourself, not for otberl, iut for me for anT?t!:er';t"".?Tat^r IftT *- "Pdf "^1^ i! \ ? ? ™^ *^^ world, not for vourseli buf fnr Ma who tave bought it at the pric; of my hlool" TMs vZ ^e infant Moses, as he drifted, a helpless wlif, a^n id the rush of the Zt iro^Zf '•'l^'V'-^^^^^^P^^^l ^^ death tltTs the un! of a cruel Zld ifo •^'^^^^^^'^d .^ f^^ fro upon the billows 01 a cruel ^vorld She is m daily peril of death both of body and Sf'nft^^'^r^J of food, and raiment, and sheSHn Cart r^en-1 f •* '*^'''' ^^"""^ *^^ "^^li«^ of lier own ^eart m peril from ignorance and from false teachers • and whicteri^t :Tt' ^^-\^^^1^- d-^ers without th:t liTlp fT?n W 1 • ^ . ? ^''^S:i1g ark of rushes which hardly divides the Hebrew infan from the waters of death. Allow me to ask triiSl'ttlro^-' "b' ^""t *^^* -y-rds eouldtat voriow .t vn Z"'''^?"^""." P""^^^*' ^llo^' «^e to ask you, how aie j^ou disposed to receive the request made to vou to-day by our Divine Lord? Will you imitate The Hebrew mother by a cheerful and generous compliance or rather bv S!\ ? ^ t^'^ Pharisees on the occasion of a similar request ? Once before ,u,r Lord gave to the Pharisees a charge siXr t; olveTLS^dTrtrthr'^^'^'^* ?^>^.^^^'^^^ mJcerthem. seivestricnds out of the mammon of iniquity by devotin-^ some of their wealth to the relief of the poor.^ But they reSd and being eovetous, as the Sacred Scriptures tell usf they derided Him. ^ But bear in mind, beloved brethren, that f you imitate them m their refusal you shall be sharers in therscom of Christ for such 18 the character of Him who imnoses on vnn ctS'Vh tr% '^V" '^'^'^ toUlTiSrge^•s'to scorn Him. The duty of obedience follows close upon the right FOR AN ORPHANAGE. 77 to command and can no more be separated from It than thp shadow can be disjoined from the sunshine it follows after and to refuse obedience when the right to command is admitted to exist IS to make a scorn of authoritv TVTnw «// 7/ •. • centred in God. He is the Engof k^ngs and iJT^^ a' He holds the keys of the universe and IhLver He oL^^^^^^^^^ man may shut whatever He shuts no man may open ^ ^o » asks the apostle ';who resists his wiU?" ^ Throughout all creation his word is law. He spoke the word Sfhev * ere made; He commanded and the/ sprang into being T^JZ may not swerve from the course He hath markfd out • Z stars of heaven shine out in their appointed placef the seasons succeeding each other in the due order He^as raced croSS 11 ''^^^,?'- ^^" ^^^^ P^'-^^^d bounds to the deerand t^ swelling billows touch them and are checked. He ToCanda the winds and the waves, and thev are husbpd L.?...^^ • And among all creatures shauLnff^ed^ete aU^^r" to obey, alone be exempt from that duty.P m K^ i^Z Master, we are his servants, and whatsoever is pleasW in T eyes that we are bound to do. Now it is beyond all doubt th He calls upon you to take care of the poor and of the oXn how, then, can you refuse ? His authority to command w^T^ unquestionable ; the expression of hi<, will ;i fi .'^"™™™'^, Jo ^ is doubt, beyond doubt aUTXttj^Xy'' "" " ""^'^^ ^1 i^^*^ puuitsr, w^ive us this day our dailv brpirl P" Tf Ihcn, all, all that you have is from Gnd {i ;T^ i ., ^^' cuatures. And yet He leaves you your time, your health. i'% ■"**«?»'«»» ■ i'Olt AX OHPIIANAGE. your Hfe, to employ at will; He leaves you your wealth to h. spent for the necessaries, the comforts/and^e^en the amLe men s of life, and is it too much to ask from you forth; helpless orphan the superfluity that remains when\u the real wants of your state of life have been satisfied ? And wulc lie ash you to give hut little to Ilim in the person of lie llunself g^,. to you, and with u-hat libeiali,, ? hS hand is never weaned m heaping gifts upon you. ^at have vou youf bJdv w^t^ r* -T-^-^-yU Li with its fStle'e^ youi body ^vith Its wondrous powers, your position in ihL world, your family, the children of your love your man v friends. And as if all this was nothing. He has^g'en you mS'T. ^\" *'"' ^''^^' ^'' sacraments, his Church, hS Mother ILmself to be jour stay in this life and your abiding f oy and a way tnat the gift of them has cost H m personal labours personal suffering beyond all that love has ever made one "In suffer for another : for greater love than this T man hath that a man should lay down his life for his friends Ind in face of this unparalleled devotion to you, will you hesit^P o.S dole out grudgingjy to Him a miserable pSe less than' you spend upon one of your pleasures, and which you wouS feel ashamed to offer to a ser\^ant. jatomsjioni Hun Upon God all creatures ever wait that ITp may give them food in due season. He opens hi hand Vn I fills them with benediction. And what mXe has bl/ht you all here to-day but to ask for mercy from God Bu Tf in the very act of asking Him to give you what you require anS to yourmnt r ' T ^"'^ ^"TT ^" "1?^^^ « favourable answer down foriSr 1^ ^"^ IZ ""^^ ^^.^"^ *^^* ^^'^ 1^^^ He has laid If, then my brethren, you admit that God has an unoues yoramrffr\r'""\"r'^^^^ ? ^^^ ^^-^^ that in asTing C admit b^.t H P°T "' 'V'V ""'^^S ^^'"^^ ^« ^i« °^n ; if ^ou admit tJiat He asks you for less than He miffht • if von Swalty'Vnd^ "^" P^T^ ''' ^^ thetampV^f nDcraiity, and at immense personal cost; if, finally, you admit that even while you refuse Him what He asks frL^you Z will go on asking Him to give gifts to you : if you adm t all this-and you must admit it-il it not tiue that i you re^u e to be generous to-day to the orphans of God, that you are dis- respectful to his Divine Majesty ? If the ref ,s "l of the Pharisees was a mockery, can it b'e true that a shX refusal on your part is an act of respect ? ^ FOR AN ORPHANAGE. 79 But even if you were to forget all you owe to God, still such IS the nature of the charge laid upon you by Him that fCnh W*r •' *° '^.'5'/'- ^''^^S '' "^°^« precious' than the object therein confided to your care. Childhood is a thinjr so winning, so graceful, so tender, so confiding— with a futurp 80 fair, an innocence so fresh, so lovely, and, Sas ! so fragile- that It claims not only aH our love, but our deepest reverence. It was so even before Christ came ; but since H^e was bom on earth, since the Lord of glory condescended to rest in the blessed '"'!?' Vl/v.^S*^''^'"'' ^^'""^ ^^' daughters of men, infancy nl tb M r ":? been sanctified for evermore. And even for Jlim the Man-God the innocence of childhood has special at- traction : He wished them to come to Him, his choicest blessings Twould W "^"'"^ '^'"^ '' ^' '^' *yP^ °f *^^- ^^«S Now, it is this precious object, this childhood, that is <>iven over to your care to-day. And precious as childhood is in ftself It is equally precious m that it is the passage to eomethin^ beyond. So closely do the cords of AdarS bind our ra" toge- ther, that every human being, no matter how mean and humble exercises influence for good or for evil upon others of his kind How much more so the mother of the familv ! But especially precious is chi dhood, touched by the sorrow of " when t is joined with orphanhood, for then it gains a new value from the tract with It It 13 the express teaching of Holy Scrinture thni God IS the Father of the orphan, xfe God 4oTk L of kings and Lord of lords, whose power breaks the sceptre! of rulers, who holds the sea in the hollow of his hand, before whom all the earth 18 a gram of dust, or a drop of morn n- dew uoon grass-the Almighty God has been pleased to take to HiZTf the special title of Father and Prot^ector of the orphan cMd and the office of avenging his wrongs. And is it not an honour my brethren, that God should invite you to be sharers with Hi rn in this noblest work of his mercy ? Is it not an honour to bo fellow-workers with God ? " Is it a little ihing," asks David '' to be son m-law of a king ?" And is it a little thing, I ask to have confided to your care the wards of the Eternal God ^ ' And_ wards though they be of God, they chaUenge your compassion, for they are the very type of sorrow and of weak- ness. There are some sufferings that are only of the h^irl but hey are terrib e indeed They are powerful^to rob life of \n its charm to dim eyen the splendour of a crown, and to rnake drear and dark xv hat once was brightest. Other sufferings Tere Z fL ^a\ r^^ and hunger, and poverty and disefse and the thousand lUs bom of these. Not always, not often, does the 80 FOR AN ORPHANAGE. ! I ■ M I I I woHd, like Moses^on?he dak iLr^W^^^^^^ T°.?" T^^ when the prophet would describe tlf; Jf ^vonder then, that the conditL/of the cap^ve Jews he cou dTnT''*'^'^"*^''. °* more apt than to liken^hL trorpha" '"welroT"'''' orphans without a father'" Wh .,f ^.^ i ll . ""^ h''°'^^ most, extreme punish^Tnts Z^'fonT';' ott nZ^^t endeavouring to assuage and reHeve it nnn «L i -^^f ^ ^ the hearts of Christian men P ' "^^ ''^^'°' *" ^^^'^ their strength The ornhn.Tr ' I 5^"^ ';*'''-^^ weakness lies powerful w1 h God \^ooto thT' ^'^'\'^ ^'1^^^^"' «^« ^^l" makes one of them fall to the J^ouZ" 'w ^I ^ ?! ^"^'^^^"^^^ despises it or slights it as t fafls T ThJ ^° *^' ?'^ ^^'^^ hand that is held out to vm, f n V / i P°''''' ''''^'*^^ ^^P^^^^ power of God IKmsolf f^ Tho?; -^ "' ""^T- '^'^'^' *^^ ^ Ls an echo in the courts of hf' '" ^^T-''^' '^"^ ^'^«k> bar or to open its ble: eTy/tal^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ¥ho^'""'?^i!^ FOR AN ORPHANAGE. p| monj the body and the soul of man ? " It is one of fho t'l of human sciences, that which devotes iuJf ?. i "°^^'''* lon|, life when attacked by dltr^dtlVir^^^^^^^ their young years, and waste the midnic>ht oil and Pvnil V they have already delivered their assault ? ^^ectiy when ro« are called vpon to do the very work which at the Tn.^ n shall wmfor yoxc a favourahle sentence. By coj^^trib. 1^ 1^ support of the orphan vou feed iC i.^rT^ contributmg to the the thirsty, you cSe the ZLaJZ^I^. ^^"^ ^'''" ^""^ *« of eharit/is^ike almond SLu5hi:?l> ^'''T ^^'^ with various light, and in iLTf em Wes all V^^^^^ T'^^^^ back home and happinesryou hTveTvef edJ^^^^ ^''l^^^ rescued from vice -and amen it?/ education, you have for tW least ofth ietp =, yoTL'^o^Srt' ffi,^"™ ^°°^ should have it more abundant! v nr,^ +i,- • . , "*^' ^^^ them, the Saviour who diTd for them th^ *^%^^^^^ sanctifies them ; you are to enli Jtp„ k • ^""^^ ^^""'^ ^^^ struction. to cor're^t"h:[r cLupt^^U by'theirr "^'^ '"■ of grace. This was the fire ChrisT canfe on earth ZTT' among men, and He has no desire mle viWd than tbn > 7 ' f lij r 82 FOR AN ORPIIANAOH. I i H the nature of the object confided to your care, or the character of the work you are called upon to perform, you cannot refuse your generous co-operation ; but should any further motive bo wanting, think of the reward you will receive. St. Paul ells us that the pagan philosophers were inexcusable, because, whereas every creature spoke to them of God, they did not glorify Him as they ought. The heavens told them of his glory : each day that died published it to the day that rose ; and the silence of the night was eloquent with the theme. They were inexcusable because of the cloud of witnesses whom God had sent to speak to them of Himself. And so shall you be without excuse, beloved brethren, if you refuse to be generous in your charity, for God has raised up a similar cloud of every kind of witnesses to tell you of the rewards of almsgiving. Ages before Christianity, and even among those outside the pale of the Jewish religion, from the land of Uris, Job raises his plaintive voice to tell you how blessings followed him because he had delivered the fatherless. If from the sad spec- tacle of the sufferings of Job you turn to the glories of the people of God, and, like the Queen of Sheba, visit the royal palace of Israel, in its golden courts you will hear the voice of the King Prophet declaring how blessed is the man who taketh thought for the needy and the poor, and how in the evil day God will deliver him. Follow the Jewish people to captivity, and though their harps hang silent on the willows, and their songs are hushed in the strange land, yet not hushed is the voice of the good Tobias, who tells you that alms deliver from all sin and from death, and will not suffer the soul to go into darkness. Even the angels of God join their voices in praise of charity with the voices of earth ; and Eaphael, one of the seven who stand before God, announces that alms deliver from death, and maketh to find mercy and life everlasting. Do you desire more ? To the voices of sage and saint, and prophet and angel, the Eternal Wisdom, the Word made Flesh, unites his majestic utterance, and the voice that made the world proclaims to you that what remaineth give as alms, and behold all things are clean unto you ! Give charity, then, this morning, copiously and generously, to the orphans of St. Clare ; take these children of Christ, bring them up for Him, and He, the faithful and true, will give you your reward. FOR AN ORPHANAGE. 83 FOR AX ORPHANAGE. read. This cunning taught him to dftiXir^r ^ r)^ J"^* ™ oeca.™ which -ouldVintlfantrt e„Xn fte^ tion he was about to nro-o • f^^r. i,^ i "^^"n^nLu me temptu- men, such as he t^To^r W%^b7ti: wl^^^^ '^^^^ saries of life is a sower of rpbolHo^^ fl,^ I. ™ "^ ^^^ "^<^««- majesty of God's pTovidenop TV ?T^*.' ^,^^^^'* ^^^ ^l^^^ed Heavenly Father, who clothes the lily in arrav fnJ, 1 ? i T kmg's glory ; if j^u speak to him of SeLTwt eLCmslet with tender care the commonest of his beings how Sin ^t you as long as he feels that the clothing SVed on h^^.'"' of the field, and the tenderness lavishe^d up^ tit L^^^^^ air, are denied to him, though he be the so pmIi!! i i / f^*" earth of which these c'reaturl are bu tL ;SrSnf ^^^^^^ you tell him of the Almi<>-htv hand wlnVl, 7 ^^^nisliing.^ If to open, and which, whenTt ^pen^^^^^^^ ^—e to every creature waitinc^ unon if ^, . ^i. ^"'"^ ^^'^'^''o^ that the very samrAhr iVhTbnnflTl. ?i Z^"" ^Z ^'°^^ ^^" ^^ been nailed [o the cr^1?rh^im?h^^^^^^^^^ all creatures has will you make on his\trlt£d"%^^^^^^^ thi3 love has passed him bv nitvinn- nil <„» i • ^ . .""' "" him alone, without wa™?Ji^„r^ehfriit' J?™; "T^^'^^ *"' TW« is a great difficulty, Inled'ot^l my br^'hrCT there is even a still more complicated form oHt TW ptl -l them P HeMS t" s"us in'^rc'xvHiT ) 1S •^'- ¥ Ill :.a::*3 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 ^'^ m I.I 1.25 •- Ik ^ 1^ M 2.2 12.0 .8 L4 IIIIII.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 873-4503 # iV •^ ^^^^ o \w O^ '% %^ ty. 84 FOR AN ORPHANAGE. ' I in her heart the unerrmg, inscrutable instinct of love that ur^es her to seek and find and bring food to her little ones S as It IS with the young of the'-raven, so is it with the ekiWren of men: they, too, call to God's providence for food and God provideth It for them by means of their parents, whose love and labour are the means He has established to feed his little oSes And yet, my brethren, we see that God frequently takes away from oyer these little ones the parents who gave hem birth-that IS to say, God's providence deKberatfly denlS to the orphan those very means of existence which that same providence had established as the instruments of his Wy owards them. God forbid, my brethren, that the dark thoS shouldenter your mmd that by sending death to the parens God wishes hat the orphans should all perish off theSh? Reason recoils from believing such cruelty of th^ a^T I ' spareth aU because He loveth fouls : o3t Refuses ^Ltt 1, and makes room instead for the words of the PsaS ^Pafm orphanorum et judicis veduariua'^ (Ps. IxvS 6 ' God Himself proclaims it to be false by declaring ffimsefi m an especial manner the Father of the orphan On the contrary, my brethren it would appear as if the ;emoval of Ae parents did but draw the orphan closer to the Telr of God as xf the chain that binds "^God to man is shortened by the droppmg out of some of its links. In the genea Wv of our Saviour, Adam only is caUed the son of ^God tS o her generations each being attributed to Sieir respect ve progenitors ; and so in the case of the orphan, God wisE Wm w f/f'?i^\''^= "J ^^ theFather^f he orphan" ™ would be blasphemy, then, my brethren, to think^ tha God ceases to wish to preserve those whom He has made orphans difficulty If ?o^''" ''^. '' certain, does but increTse ou^ aifficulty. It God s providence has charged itself w-tb fli« sustenance of its creatures; if it habitually fSlfilsSeharibv certain ordinary means adapted to the end; if t delSe^J remove hese m^jans in the case of orphans Ld othertSoS ceasmg to wish to attain the end proposed, what are w^ to sav ? How does It happen that while He deliberitely wisherthe pZr orphan to hve, He w th equal deliberation removes the means by which only this wish can be accomplished? You have heard the onl3. answer that can be given, and you have heardft frora the divme lips of Jesus Christ Himself. It is not by bread alone that man lives that is, it is not only by ordinar/meana that God can attain his end, but by whatever means HeXT. All means are alike to Him. pieasc^. AU the means in God's hands may be roughly reduced to two clasees-the supernatural and the natural. G?d had recourse FOR AN ORPHANAGE. 85 to supernatural means when, having led out the Israelites into the desert, away from the flesh-pots of Egypt and the Eff^ Ln plains of waving corn, He fed them for forty years ^tSnna cl.f W ^'"''^^'^'^TJ, a^d it was with respect toXs mfra- culous interposition of Providence that the words quoted by oiir Lo.d were originally used. I know, my brethren that God could have recourse to similar means to feld his orphans • S He could send the ravens to bring them bread, as He did to Wen or'Sr ' *^'' ^' ^^^^'^ 'T —upon them from nr fZ ' Z^ ? ''T'' 'P"''^ ^P ^t the touch of Orphan feet or the earth supply them with rich metals from its bosom I notTo ?: TV::'' '^^Jl.'^^ ' -"^^^ *^^^ ^^ ^- beeUXseJ on Vlnlf ; J ^^^r""^ ^^^'^ miraculous interpositions of God excSnlo^^fd^f^' '"'' "i'° ^"P^^* *^^^^^^^t - °^ly "^ tL Evn oi f -i^''"?'. V"^" ' ^^y' ^'^^^' '^ i« to say what IhL A ^^^/H- I^et these stones become bread." God then, does not wish to reaUse his plan, to fulfil his wish bv supernatural means : natural means He has removed How then, are God'« orphans to be fed ? They must blsuppfrtrd either by their own toil or by the help of those to wh?m God To faT?hat Th?v'' "' "' -^-dancf the riches of this world 10 say that they are to support themselves is a mockerv therefore, very beloved brethi^n, we are inevitaSy brought ^o the conclusion that either God has pledged Himseft to d? what positi^re will that you are to be the instruments of his providence with regard to these little ones whom He loves. As t?X then a that God does not undertake impossibilities, or breal hS pledges, so truly you are called upon by Him to be fellow- workers with Him on behalf of the orphans. Do not fret mv ^^'^f'^^'^^^^fV^i^^tiy regard the burden of thfs duy' for the hand hat lays It upon you is the same which Ss'vou your worldly substance; nay, it is one of your^ tles^to what jou possess. Before you close your hear^against the on you on behalf of his orphans, let us have got all things from the bounty of ask you for your time, your life, your ^u'o"'Tl .■•"- y°^ ^■^^"se Him the little He does ask in rcahty ? It is said that when God crowns our good works He does but crown the merits He Himself has givfn u. and in Ike manner, we may say that when He impofes a duW on ^s It isbut a way of confemng some fresh favour upon us ^\rnen He LTt? '? ^^'^ *^\^"'y °* ^^^P^^S Him to fe^ed the oi^han Scripture ZZ7^ ^ \'n T^r""' ^^ ^^^ '^^^^^^' ^^ S^c^'^d scripture the dealings of God with man, we shall see that IJt^ has ever foUowed this rule : whenever He avaiirilfmself of th^ call (3od makes consider that we God. He could health, &c. : will i FOR AN ORPHANAGE. assistance of any man in any one work He Himself is most liberal towards his fellow- worker in tlie gifts analogous to the work on which He has employed him. Thus He caUed on Moses to be his instrument in a deed of might, and so largely did he bestow on his creature the gift of power that He said • '' Ecce constUui te Leum Fharaonis" (Exod. vii. 1). He called on the widow to feed his Prophet Elias, and He rewarded her with an abundance because she had been libe 1 in her poverty. He called on Mary to help in ths sanctification of the world, and He was most liberal to her in gifts of grace nnd sanctity. He called on Cyrus to effect his will in deeds of arms, and He made him the anointed among strong persons. When, there- tore, He calls on you to be his sharers in a work of mercy, He will be liberal in many ways towards you. And now, my brethren, see what this co-operation with God bi-mgs with It. It is a rule of his Providence that whenever He asks man to assist Him in any undertaking. He communi- cates to his chosen helpers such abundant graces and favours as to prove them to be his assistants : He, as it were, hands over to them his attributes. See, then, that you have become by this the representatives of the mercy of God to man. " For He shall deHver the poor from the mighty : and the needy that had no helper. He shall spare the poor and needy : and He shall save the souls of the poor " (Ps. Ixxi. 12, 13). The cry of the orphan comes to Him, and He sets vou out as his representa- tive to clothe, and feed, and nurture his desolate ones. They cry *°i,^°^'/*^^ ^^^* ^^^^ *^®^ ' *^®y ^^^ ^'^^ y^^' you must grant what they ask ; they are placed in your hands, you must be kind, and tender, and loving, and generous to them. Your pleasures day by day ask from you, and you give to them, and yet you are not to them the representatives of God's mercy. It you accept a trust, you must be ready to carry out its require- ments ; if you assume a position, you must fulfil its duties ; if you undertake to stand for another, you must do what he would do if you had not taken his place. If you deliberately con- tracted the obligation of providing for some weak and poor person, and pledged your, elf to act the part of a parent towards him, you would be unjust and cruel if you proved false to your word. Now, beloved brethren, you must accept the position God has assigned you with respect to the orphan. That position IS a privilege to you, but its acceptance is compulsory ; you are compelled to accept it, and shall be condemned for its omission. This is what is most wonderful about your case. Justice and charity, your duty and your interest, alike forbid you to refuse to accept the duty laid upon you. Charity to yourself forbids it, for it is the highest privilege God could FOR AN ORPHANAGE. 87 bestow upon you. It is that image that is reflected in man, wnich moves God to love him ; that image is impressed more plamly and fully in baptism ; and if, faint or faded by sin, it has turned away God's love from you, by this privilege it is restored and refreshed, and being refreshed, God's love for yov IS refreshed m like manner. If, then, you would hide the sins of your soul, clothe yourself in the image of God. Besides, in warfare it sometimes happens that men escape death by wearing the unitoi-m of theii' foe. You have armed against you the justice of God : save yourself from it, my brethren, by putting on the badge of mercy. I do believe, my brethren, that to be asked to feed God's orphans is a proof of God's intensest love towards you and your own inheritance. He will show mercy to the merciful ; and the more merciful are his creatures, the more mercy shall they find at his hands. Now the work of mercy increases m proportion to the intensity of the misery which it heals ; greater is the mercy which meets the greater need. JNow, I deliberately assert that in the whole band of sorrow that preys on men there is none more bitter, more crushing, than falls to the share of the orphan. The orphan is either en-, 'lous or he is unconscious of his loss. If he be un- conscious oi it, my brethren, his case appears to me still more pitiable and melancholy. Or if the child be haply conscious of its loss, I will not attempt to describe its sorrow ; but rather I will ask you, oh, parents who have lost the child of your love, or have trembled at the thought of losing him, I will ask you to tell us the bitterness of that moment of separation. From what you have suffered we may know what a bereft child does suffer ; for parental and filial love are but equal strands of the self-same cords of Adam that bind men together, and when they break they exhibit cor- responding firmness. But I will say this much : Happiness is the state of gratified desire ; as long as a desire remains un- satisfied we are never happy ; the more desires unsatisfied, the more onr unhappiness increases. Givo the child the fond look, the loving smile of father or mother, and you gratify his lieart's desire ; take them away, and you cause the pang that constitutes the unhappiness of the orphan. But, last of all, if you would understand the depth of the sorrow you are called upon to heal, call to mind that Jesus Christ came on earth not only to save us, but to console us ; He ^8 jo*^^^^ ^^^^^* ^'^^ Saviour, but Christ the Consoler. To this end He wished to suffer every pang, to bare his heart to every wound that poor human nature can suffer ; He wished to drain ®v®Tj P of the b'tter chalice of suffering any of his children should ever suffer. But in the procession of sorrows that in- « 1' |nf^-^= 88 FOR THE widows' HOME. vaded Him the greatest came last ; the last days of his passion were the days ot his greatest pains, and among those of his passion the most intense were stiU the last. The betrayal bv Judas was a bitter pain, but He gave no sign of his sorrow: the scourging, the blow on the face, the crucifixion, brought no tear or expression of sorrow from Him ; but the moment of his supreme agony was come when He felt Himself bereft of his leather, and his sorrow wrung forth the awful cry, amid the darkness that overhung Calvary, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken mc .^" The sorrow that He reserved to the last, the last drop m the chalice of woe, was to become an orphan. And this IS the infinite sorrow He caUs on you to heal, this IS the infinite mercy He wishes you to perform, that He may be infinitely merciful to you. ^ I rOR THE WIDOWS' HOME. " Honour widows, that are widows indeed."—! Tim, v. 3. Finding myself here to-day, dearly beloved brethren, filling the place of the distinguished prelate whose unavoidable absence we all regret, I cannot but confess that I experience a teeling of apprehe.asion and anxiety. I know I have no reason to be apprehensive on the score of your charity, which, as these walls can witno.^ Las never been found wanting to any good cause; but I a . anxious that the interests of the widow may not suffer by being confided to my charge. Indeed I look upon these good widows for whom I am about to plead as doubly widowed-widowed first, long since, of that help which a husbands arm brings, and widowed now of the powerful advo- cacy 80 often and so successfully exerted for them here by the respected voice we miss to-day. However, the pressure of my anxiety is considerably lightened when I consider the vanta/e ground supplied to the cause I am to-day pleading by the admoni- hon directed by St. Paul to his disciple, the beloved Timothy. Emboldened by the teaching of the apostle, I am not content to have your compassionate assistance for their virtuous Christian widowhood; I furthermore call upon you to pay towards it FOR THE widows' HOME. 89 respect and honour. I cry out with the apostle: "Honour widows, that are widows indeed," No doubt it may be a matter of surprise to you that whereas you came here to show mercy, and pity, and tender compassion, you should hear yourselves caUed upon, in addition, to pay a tribute of respect and honour. It may startle you a little to iind those whom you are prepared to hear described as obiects o± compassion raised upon a pedestal and elevated into obiects that demand to be honoured also at your hands. Your surprise IS, perhaps, natural, beloved brethren, and it is right that you should be cautious, seeing that in the daily life of the world you are so often caUed upon to honour what is really and truly deserving of all your contempt. You make a purchase because tlie merchant affirms his wares to be genuine, and vou find they turn out worthless; ^ou receive into your confidence a person who IS recommended as trustworthy, and on closer acquaintance you tind him dishonest; you give your esteem to a man who wears the garb and mien of virtue and respectability, and you soon find his good qualities did but cover a multitude of defects, iiut, notwithstandmg all this, you can and ought to believe that Christian widowhood is entitled to your respect. Men may deceive you when they invite you to pay honour, but God cannot and wi 1 not It is the voice of an inspired Apostle- it IS the counsel of Holy Scripture, it is the word of God itself that calls upon you to honour their widowhood ; therefore, beyond all gainsay without any doubt. Christian widowhood is de- serving of being honoured by you. It is the infallible teaching o± brod that honour should be paid where honour is due, and tneretore, whenever we are commanded to pay honour it is intallibly certain that the honour is really due. Are you a husband or a wife ? You claim respect and honour froi the partner of your life ;-and why ? Is it not because God com- mands the husband to love and honour his wife, and the wife to love and honour her husband ? Are you a parent ? You claim respect and honour from your children ;-and why ? Is it not because God has said to children, " Honour thy father and thy motner f Are you an employer or a master ? You expect to be obeyed and respected by them under you ;— and why ? Is it not because God has commanded inferiors to respect their Detters.^ Ihe groundwork of society consists in the mutual observance of relative duties imposed by God on all, and to exact tnis observance you have constant recourse to God's command. And you are right, beloved brethren ; but i you are wise and just in exacting the honour due to yourselves, because God has given you a right to it, am I wrong when to-day, on the self-same authority, I caU upon you to enlarge |l|l r 90 FOR THE widows' HOME. ,! 1 i pay to Christian widowhood the honour "Honour widows, that are widows indeed" your hearts and God asks for it: (1 Tim. V. 3). +T, -^^T^.^^k *oo much, so do you ; if you do not ask too much, tnen 1 have a right to be heard. I call upon you, therefore, to Honour the widow to-day ; and I say that God expects from you that you will not slight their petition, or remain cold and inditterent to their cause. How can you be said to honour the widow if you grudge to bestow upon their cause the attention and the interest you so lavishly bestow on other things ? And now, beloved brethren, I wish you to penetrate the lull meaning of what is understood by the command to honour Christian widows. The Holy Scriptures contain several such precepts : tnus, we are commanded to honour God, to honour the King, to honour our parents, to honour our brethren in L^hrist. JYow, honour is nothing else than a testimony we ireely render to the exceUent qualities of him we honour: thus, we honour God when we acknowledge his infinite perfections; we honour our superiors when we recognise in them the au- thority which God has given them over us ; we honour our brethren when we bear witness to the bonds that unite us all together m Christ. Is it not wonderful then that, as we are told to honour God and our superiors, so we should also be told to honour Christian widowhood? What is there in this last that It should exact our respect? What are the excellent qualities m it to which we are to bear testimony ? My brethren 1 will not now delay to set forth the manifold exceUent qualities of the state of Christian widowhood. I will not delay to teU you now, in the Sacred Scriptures, it ranks in dignity close after the holy state of virginity ; how St. Paul himself has given special rules m its regard ; how many virtues it develops ; how much merit it stores up. But rather I will claim your respect lor widowhood because of this, that God has established most mtimate relations between those afflicted ones and his Divine Majesty. The virtuous widow is in a most especial manner a ward of Divine Providence. The God who is from aU eternity, who claims to Himself the titles of King of kings and Lord of lords, whose power breaks the sceptres of kings, and who holds the sea in his hand, this Omnipotent God has given Himself the title of Judge of the widow. Father of the orphan : He has taken upon Himself the task of avenging her wrongs; and among the woes which He denounces ugainst the Levites and 1 harisees there is a dreadful woe to these because they injure the widow. The widow is in an especial manner the hand of God. mw, let me ask you, by v/hat means does God exercise this guardianshij), this protectorate? Does He, in person, J FOR THE widows' HOME. 91 interfere m the case of every single one of the widows from whom He has removed the husband, the means of support He Himself had given her? I know very well that He could, It He pleased, send ravens to feed them as He did Eliseus, or multiply miraculously their little store, or bid the earth produce fruits and food when watered with a widow's tears. H^ could do all this ; but I know also that He does not do so. It is not his wisdom to alter the whole scheme of creation, and make miracles the rule and not the exception. If, then, it be true that trod is m an especial manner the guardian of the widow— and It is undeniable— if it be true that He has been pleased not to exercise his guardianship in person by miraculous interven- tion, it follows most clearly that He h-xs left it to you, to whom He has entrusted the goods of this world, to take his place towards the desolate widow. There is no other way by which It can be done, and therefore it is the will of God that you should honour Him in his ward by becoming the channel of his love to the desolate and afflicted. It is God's intention to provide for the widow through your alms. This was well understood in the very earliest ages of the Church. During the Kfetime of the Apostles all the faithful contributed their money, and the fund was especially intended for the support of the widows. Hence, St. Paul exhorts such as bad widows relations, and were able to support them to do so at home, in order that the Church might be relieved, and that enough might be left for the other widows. Hence we read that the Apostles themselves looked after the maintenance and support of the widows among their flocks Not a single widow was left uncared for, not one was . tnend ss, not one houseless. What matter if God had stricken her with sorrow?— she had her fellow-Christians to console Her. What matter if God had removed her stay and her support?— she found in the charity of her brother the support she required. What matter if her home was broken up, and her children orphans ?— she found a home and a father with and m the Apostles themselves. Suppose, then, I say, suppose that we who are here to-day were carried back at this moment eighteen hundred years, the widow for whom I am pleadino- would find m the faithful who fill the church those who recog° nised it to be their duty to contriJ: ate to their support. There would be no hesitation: everyone here would contribute: an apostle or another Timothy would caU upon them to honour widows. Now, I ask, why should we not here to-day do the very same thing that we would have done if instead of bein<^ Catbolics o± the nineteenth century we were Catholics of the first century ? Why should the widows of to-day be neglected ?f-' 92 FOR THE WIDOWS* HOME. by US, and the widows of that day be supported and nourished? I A ""^ fathers not our God also ? Is the Church of the Apostles not the Church to which we belong? Is the command of God different for them and for us ? Has charity ceased to be an obligation? Most certainly not. Are we not bound, then, to deal literally with the widows? And will you not imitate this morning the charity of those who were your fathers in the faith ? Behold, you are gathered round the same altar as they were. The blood of the same Victim was offered up for you to-day that was offered up for them. A successor ot tiie Apostles, one who came do\m in an unbroken line from the priest who offered sacrifice for the early Christians, has offered sacrifice for you. You have the same faith, the same hope, the same obligations, the same God— why should you not have the same charity ? ♦' j And no wonder, beloved brethren, that God should take such care of the widow ; for among the many forms of misfor- tune that have saddened and still sadden the* world there is not one, perhaps, so dark or mournful as that of widowhood— at all events, there is none which so thoroughly and effectually pros- .rates the heart and makes such awful havoc in the life of the sufferer. There are in the forest many trees of various strength and hrniness. Some there are that cast out their roots on every side, and shoot up their tall and sturdy stems, and stretch out w;ide their branches. Others, again, cannot grow but by the aid of their stronger neighbours ; to these they cling, to these they attach themselves, borrowing from them all the strength they have, aU the vigour they feel. Should the woodman's axe or the storm lay prostrate their support, they faU with it. crushed and torn ; and even though their own roots are stiU in the eaith, even though they make a feeble effort to live, they that were once so fair, and fresh, and blooming lie there the very type of weakness and prostration. So among men the ^'•n '"^ 'A t^e^'fry type of desolation and distress. It is the will of God and of nature that the wife should cling to her husband, as the tender plant to the strong tree. God cuts off, as It were, all other supports from her ; she is to leave father, and mother, and home, and -)ling to her husband ; man and woman are no longer two, but oi e, and one by so holy and close a bond that It has been made fast by God Himself, so that no earthly power_ can ever sunder it: no man can sunder what God hath joined. When, therefore, God Himself withdraws the husband. He withdraws the only support on which the life and strength of that frail creature rested, and the blow that deprives her of her spouse deprives her at once of love and help, and almost of hope. What wonder, then, that when God wished to FOR THE widows' HOME. 93 describe the utter desolation of Jerusalem, He said that she had become a widov-^? What wonder that among the punishments wherewith the Roya Prophet threatens the%vickeTit i^sa^ Umt their wives shall be made widows ? What is it of earthlv b essmg a wife does not lose with her husband, the partner of her love, the father of her children, the sharer of her sorrows th3 confidant of her cares, the breadwinner whose arm W phnty in her humble home, the stay and support of her home ter guide and her adviser? If (here be any sorrow whTch demands and requires charity, it is the sorrow^ of thl widow And would It not be selfish in us, to whom God has givenTo much happiness, to pass over in silence this breaking heart ? There are some sorrows that are of the heart only, and thev are often more poignant than mere physical distress ;therJ are ?ie miJd it ^^r' '"'"".' "4 *^^^ ''' spared tTat themmd But in the poor widow the sorrow of the heart is felt together with the distress. Every arrow is directed agat her ; she IS wounded everywhere ; and if it be an angelic^vork WtT ' ^y^^tv^ovk is it to heal this doubTy broken If insight of such woe unutterable, of such weakness we should be unmoved-if we should be deaf and nigSTn endeavouring to assuage it-can we claim to have the heS of men ? No so d^d holy Job ; not so did Eliseus, who fed the widow ; not so did the tender heart of our Lord, who made the grave give back Its dead, that He might restore her onrson to a broken-hearted woman who was a widow! And if this shoidd not move us, ought we not at least to fear for ourselves ' 1.... yet, beloved brethren, if you ought to assist the widow because she is weak, I think you ought tS assist her the morl because she is strong. Weak in herself, in her very weaEs lies her strength. Tlie widow's tears 'are all-powSTfth rV ^ , .^ *° .*^^ ^^^ ^^o causes one of them to faU to tbp earth by his in ustice and cruelty ! Woe to him who slUts hem as they faU ! The cry of tlie poor ascendT tithe L?rd fw^^^if? ^'P^l* ^*^^ '^ ^^'^^1 ^^ ^e=^^ •• , - ' ^^ Punishmont is »n romofpC T8i- them,f„. they know would substitute in their ^tead woX» blteu"! LfC°s' mentdue to their sins; they know haUhyjS wfcn' & V'4ty,^lt t^- °' '''^Av^g'>^ i^^^ any iear -loihTtC^f '""^ *'» '■«^» i^o Aey sin without forgive them, because they know not what^hey do' '"' Ihe delay of punishment, therefore beoansp {f ;« « * i; ^;;X^sln'o^Tfl;^^^^^^^^^^^^ the.sa,ne apostle TCs is'tSS^ ^'X^^^l'tT tot w^mg to show his wrath, and make known his pow™M what «! vicLof hism:rtd:adly;t»anee?"%Kr" ^ "V^ greatest importance to vou 3;??. ^^s is a question of the Greece and Rome werrwaitod for a J tl,™"''''™ "* ''°<='<"" S^of'^£t^^Y~^^^^^^^ and malice. andT^SSJ ."_ ?^" ^^^ ^^^^ aU iniquity, while they gUded 'over aiiTi;.r''-.rr''''' """^ wickedness, goodcoujo#senstZpSetrgrhVt;rh:;Ll^:?-^ 100 FEAR OF DIVINE JUSTICE. 11 ; I iff In which of these two ways does God's patience affect your hte f Is yours the life of a Christian who, crying out to God trom the depths, keeps up a. daily, steady warfare against the sins and temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devH; or do you live only to gratify aU the desires of your own hearts, forgetful of the e%'U past ? Do you, like Magdalen, draw near to Jesus Christ, to look for the forgiveness you feel you do not deserve, or do you keep away weeks and months, and perhaps years from the sacraments of the Catholic Church, where vou may find Him and His grace? Do you give the reasonable service of love and obedience to the faith and the practices of tne Church, or do you form the judgment which the world passes on the supernatural, becoming fools when you profess tc be most wise. These are questions, this an investi- gation I have neither the power nor the will to pursue further • but li you find that your life is similar to that of the phHosopher must you not fear that the patience God is certain to show you IS the patience of vengeance ? Must you not doubt that while you become fearless at what you think delays punishment, that supposed delay was itself punishn.ent of the most terrible order r*— and is it possible that anyone can close his heart against the tear of God for such a delay of punishment ? This, then, my brethren, is the case I make : the Holy Scrip- ture complains that men sin without any fear, and that they are without fear because they do not see sentence immediately pronounced upon evH. Now, no man, in view of the numberless mstances of prompt vengeance, can with any security believe lor a moment that God wiU not punish him at once ; and if he have any apparent reason to think that God is waiting for him in mercy, he IS surely not warranted by such reason to exclude fear from his heart, especially as he cannot be certain that the very delay of punishment is not in itself a most terrible punishment. What, then, are we to do ? We are to identify in our minds the thought of sm and of its punishment, we are not to think of sin without thinking of its penalty, we are to work out our salvation with tear and trembling. Should our memory recall the thoughts ot the past, we are to think of it as having entailed on us a punishment which penance only can remove; should sin present itself m the present or future, let us remember that, however seductive its beauty, it has infaUibly, inseparably connected with It the avenging punishment of God. Yet our fear must not be a grossly servile fear : it must not be that cowardly fear which checks only the hand from the evil deed which the heart continues to desire; but that rational tear, which while it checks the hand from dnin'*, tcachos the heart not +o lose itself in guHty desires. "ionuTest}' says ON ROSAKY SUNDAY. 101 Sat ar,^^;L^rv/7; svrvr^''- OJT EOSARY SUNDAY. the ordor-I had eSbhXel '^A^^ ^et Th fdol t'rT anyihmg that relates tu Farv o.it 5 ill . ""^^ ^^ the mysteries of the ChrS tik to T Z'nT^ 'd" that m speakina- of th^ Pnoo„, t \ n i ' „ ?" ^^^ atraid duty assi^ed m^e i otfi^t^yol^'S k''^ ST ^- ""' on the contrary, I am convir-ced tW T .1, ii J, doctnnes; admirable manner thatTZf/ i^ t"" ** Promoting in an that when. firZf S feSted to fb '"™*^*, '"^"^^ Xlhi-fthfSST^^^^^^^^ waste bear tt S^mS^faZM^^t ^S ""' ."""^'l "■"• quite as much as the birth of tbepT '"sprophecy almost therefore I neJ „„t J \ , Eedeemer. Taught by Ged ChrisS'doctZ and frZ '° ^^^''ttyonv attfntion'^ f rem' of Mary, of thZttc cCerSeJttl°''''f H*° ^"^ an end to aU heresies in the entS, wrid *" '^""^ ''"' P"' and our QuLrariZ.tw.''^ "i^^?^"* °' »" Mother us.speak of her'K'Tl'S SfonTt-* ''"' ''J"'™''-' '-" It la, how pleasine to'^nH fn .7« 7 V """^ jouiiow nght this you a?e as wll^-t^S 27Z '^t i^lTi^^-,:^, 102 ON ROSARY SUNDAY. N and your best consolation. But, taking for granted that it IS ^^ght and agreeable to God, and useful to us. to venerate and pray to Mary, I propose to show you that of all the devotions in her honour the Rosary is the best and most appropriate. I pro- pose to excite m your hearts an esteem and a reverence for this holy prayer as being the one most calculated to promote her glory and your own good. Yes, we must love the Rosary, because It IS the best of devotions; but we must esteem it because it is the best of devotions in the efPects it produces. AnH fo begin with considering the kind of devotion the Kosary is, I remind you, in the first place, that its obiect is to honour the Incarnation of the Eternal Word by repeating the salutation addressed to Our Blessed Lady oy the Angel Gabi^'el at the time of the Annunciation. Now, the Incarnation is the one event on which the world turns. The ages before it exhibit to us a long procession of patriarchs and prophet« looking for- ward to It sadly and earnestly, a religion of symbol and figure which was to find reality in its accomplishment, and all true smcere men lookback upon it as the source of life, and hope, and happiness. Before it took place the holy ones of God longed to see Its day and the vision of it vouchsafed to them, although distant and almost evanescent, filled them with joy. Since it has happened how can we sufficiently testify our joy and grati- tude? What shall we render unto the Lord for all He has rendered unto us ? Now, the Rosary has for its especial object to keep fresh before our minds the Incarnation. In it we repeat over and over again the great words of the angel to Mary, which contain all that is great and wonderful in the mystery And here we see how true that is which I said before, that Jesus and Mary cannot be separated. We set out with the intention ot praising Jesus for the infinite condescension of his Incarna- tion, and we find ourselves naturally repeating the praises of Mary: we begin to bless Jesus, and our heart and our lips in- stinctively salute Mary as the Blessed among women. And this instinct is a true one. For Our Lady m the economy of the mystery of the Incarnation was such as to fill us with wonder and admiration. That the Son of God should resolve to become man, that He should have foretold this excess of love in a thousand prophecies, that He should have established a reli- gion of symbols and figures to foreshadow the kingdom He was to tound IS strange, indeed, and a wonderful condescension ; but that, atter his resolve, and the prophecies, and thefigures, He shouldask and wait tor the consent of a poor maiden before effecting it, this indeed, is beyond all comprehension. For, when the Scripture tens that the Angel Gabriel was sent from God to Marv w^at message do we find him bring? Is it a sovereign, inviolable ON ROSARY SUNDAY. 103 command to receive and guard in her womb the Divine Plede. God had decreed to confide to her? No, my brethren The bright angel bows down before the inexperienced vLgin and proclaims her full of grace, and united in a singularTanner to the Lord. He proposes to her the great mystefy of Te ?n' carnation, and reverently awaits from her the decisive answer Mary, aware of the awful mystery to which her co-operaSTs on wnicti the fate of tne world hangs It is true a God is waitmg for the free, full consent of his creature, to become her O blessed lips! blessed words! holy Mar? cause If our joy how can we thy children better recy?o^our minds Z mystery of the Incarnation than by recalling the share that thou hadst m Its accomplishment? Can we ever f row tSd of cal W hee blessed, and blessed the fruit of thy chlste womb ? S the Rosary IS the legitimate, fuU expression of our lov^ and de-' yotion to the Incarnatuju. But the'^Incarnation is the hTlett for.T #'™"' V^^ ^™'^« «* *^^ C^"«ti-n religfonrthere-' Z'y^t I^osfry which is the devotion of the Infarnation L m-Hpw£?>. ''^'^^* ^^^^°* devotion is the Eosarv con- sidering the prayers of which it is composed. It is calfed Z au^eiB bingmg with one accord o-lnrv hv] hr^n-^,--^ ^- -' jEternai Trinitv ? Ts if n^f +i,„ " ° "^ . fionour lu lae r ' n 104 01,?i>^P/k*^-'.^°'"'^ the Albigenses were 'overcome, and the faith of Christ was saved from destruction in France ±.ver since that time it has been the favourite devotion of all Catholics, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, saints and poor srugglmg souls, aU. all have found the Rosary a towe? of strength, a source of grace. But if it was ever productive of good, It IS especially calculated to produce it in our age and in the country in which we live. It is a sad thought and an awful one, that outside the Catholic Church the belief that Christ IS God IS fast disappearmg. Men who are not Catholics are sav- ing now more louUy than ever, either that the Second Person bf the Blessed Trinity is not really and truly God, or that the Son .1^ '\'"?* ''^''' '■^''^y ^""^ *^^y *^e 'Son of G^od. In either case the whole supernatural order is destroyed. The spirit of the age IS against the supernatural ; men proudly refuse to believe tha God has condescended to become man- they are satisfied with man as they find him, and refuse to attend to the supernatural virtues God wishes him to possess. Riches and honours, delights of the sense, and success-these are the aims of man, these are the end of life. And these doctrines come upon the Catholic m a thousand ways-some open and undis- guised, others secret and insidious. From books and news- papers, m conversation and in lectures, in coarse iokps a^^ m refined sensuality, in the worship of the natural, in extravagant ON ROSARY SUNDAY. 105 and sentimental love of nature, from every quarter and in everv way this poison is breathed on him. And Lw shaU he be Iwl to defend himself against aU these ?-where shaU he be able to obtain strength to resist it aU? Is he not likelv to be hurried away, to begin to think with less respect of Christianity wh7ch requires him to submit his intellect'^to mysteries, an^totriin his will to detachment from the world and its goods P Is there not danger lest the mcessantly repeated maxims of the world may out-mfluence the teachings o/his faith, and that he too may begin to be pagan ? No, my brethren, there is no da'nt; as long as he IS devout to the Rosary. As long as he recSs each day to his mind and meditates upon some of the scenes of Sntall4^7th^;:' ^"^^^^, ""''^'^i ^'*^- ^^ need not "rthe contagion of the age. As long as he reneats the salu ,^- .n once Ini^^T .> 1^' ^^/"! *° ^^^> ^^d recaUs tena. iy and Wgly the glory of the Incarnation, he is safe. F^L th^ manger and the presentation altar in the temple and the OlL Garden, and the haU of Pilate, and from CaivTrr here will ^om: forth mfluences so sweet, so holy, so divine%o supIrnatoSl as to have power against aU the worid has effected, orTn effect And as he thinks on Mary, and her part in the scenes of Re demption, and as her name and praises linger on Z Hps The" UP No^fhTrl^?- ^^'?''. ^?^ «tr^«gthen him and bear him up. j\o, the Catholic who is devout to fhp T?nc.o^„ • i against the world Let the woSd be a^sS^g aTS^lferu OvnecLetiuu and grace, what should be our e<^tP(^rr^ nf^i^'-D " which contains le perfection of both ? *^^ ^°'^'-^' f. H 106 FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT. rmST SUNDAY OF LENT. " Eemember, man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return." After many days' wandering in the desert of Bersabee, the torlorn Agar perceived at length that the hand of death was upon her son Ismael. With keenest grief she laid him down in the shade of " one of the trees that were there, and she went her way, and sat over-against him a great way off, as far as a bow can carry, for she said : I will not see the boy die : and sitting over-agamst, she lifted up her voice and wept" (Gen. xxi. 15, 16^ This mother, my brethren, could not endure to witness the agony which death was about to bring upon her child ; she fled from the sight of the sorrow and desolation which death in its ap- proach casts like a shadow upon the soul. Far different is the conduct of our mother, the Church, towards us at the com- mencement of this holy season of Lent. Not only does she bear to look upon the sorrow that settles on our heart at the thought of death, but she deliberately sets herself to produce that sorrow. FnUke Agar, she bursts into no passionate wailmg over our coming doom, but she makes her voice stern enough to tell us herself of the sentence passed against us ; far from shunning what would remind her of our death, she realises it by a, most strikmg symbol, when with her own hand she strews with ashes each proudest, and noblest, and fairest brow oi the children of men; ashes to ashes, dust to dust; mingling the ashes that are dead with the ashes yet aHve, that the Hfeless clay may remind its kindred clay, so soon to be lifeless, that man is dust, and unto dust fated to return. How is this, my brethren ? Why IS it that the mother who bears man into this world weeps to see death's sadness on him, while the mother who brings man forth for heaven seems to be glad that he should thus sorrow ? Why IS it that the one cannot bear to look upon his anguish, wnile the other herself bids his tears to flow, and would fain by her stern message have him taste all the bitterness of the memory of death ? And yet, my brethren, in that stern message there is an undertone of love, with which the Church seems to say to us what the apostle said to the Corinthians : "Although I made you sorrowful by my words, I do not repent : and if I did repent, seeing that the same (though but for a time) did make you sorrowful, now I am glad: not because you are made sorrowful, but because you are made sorrowful unto penance . . . tor the sorrow that is according to God worketh Denannfi unt/^ salvation " (2 Cor. vii. 8-10). In awakening in us at this time FIKST SUNDAY OP LENT. 107 fruits worthy of penance. Death is Zuv punishment she wn"S make it our remedy; death is the penSty Ts k/she ^'^^ teach us, by the message of the text^ to-day, how o chanTe it lato an mcentive to virtue i^nange it Eowntovon r ^ announcing some new truth hitherto un- nounced when an ^n^^'oTlZIZtX^^Z^.fl^'Z Zf C shaB ttuS^S If 191 's 'r """ir "'■'' -"^ ""«» fnil fY. l«o,q ,r+ "'''"™ ^^°- !"• 19)- Such recollections cannot death^i. hnAl^'''^^^''- ^^^e'nber that this so much dreaded death nld tL^.T^^'^' '^ T' "^^ '^'' '^ i« *te cause of aeatn. Had there been no sm, then there had been no dpntb for God would have hedged in man from its inroad? Bv one man sm came into the world, and by sin death Hot then en was luscious and delightful; but, think you, would he have enjoyed its sweetness had he known, as later he Lew thit under is sweetness lurked the bittemess of death ' " plstW I have tasted a little honey, and so I must die " If death h. an evil, then sin must be in evil ; if death be no ev^l why does Remember"'r ^f '^ \^'^ '^'' ^^^^"^ "P^^ «- -Il7? °" punShmnt'^f s^^lWltd' I'kS'^'^^*^ ^^'^ ^« *^^ fl,of IT . , ^® ^^^ • *^at IS to say, a Being- so iuaf Kohorthr^'^ ^ the severity of h£ punishientCa ^emg so holy that He cannot harbour thoughts of undue rp- l^V. rV ^"'^^ '° ^^^^if^ tl^at aU his w?rks are temnered "er'cil:fChrPT^"./^? ^'' ^^^« just and W/Tnl e^ils X?h thaAjf f ^ tf ^'^'^' '^' Sre^'''' of el^thly S mrtTthlf l*^ ^'"^ • ^^* ^P? "^^^ ^°«« innumerable, is wC^t VA/ -1^ punishment deserved by sin. Sin. theVe- its enuhTalpnt ""f '*" ^''l^ ^^^* *^^ ^^^t^ w« dread is scarcely Its equivalent; and remembering this, how are we not moved I, 108 FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT. to detest the blindness which has taught us to prize what we should most abhor ? Remember, again, how strangely sin has affected the almighty power of God. What could be more loving and tender than what God's power did, before his anger was stirred by sin, for his creature man P How fair the earth God had created for his use ! how pleasant the paradise planted for his enjoyment ! how light the command laid upon hmi to be the source of merit ! how joyous the life He gave him! how beautiful the soul, rich in a thousand gifts of nature and of grace I All God's power seems to have been busied about him, to bless him and make him happy ; .md yet, such was the poison of one sin, that this power, hitherto omnipotent to bless, became omnipotent to punish. Paradise was lost, God's graces and gifts were forfeited, the earth becBiue a place of misery, man's life a weary struggle with sorrow, and disease, and toil, to end at last in the grand defeat of death. Is it not madness, then, on the part of sinners, to go on deliberately to outrage that God whose power to punish sin is so mighty ? God gave Adam a command ; Adam broke it and sinned ; and swift upon his sin came pimish- ment v/ith all the might of an angry God. God gave us com- mands ; we break them and sin : upon what grounds dare we hope to escape ? And if the circumstances under which this message had been first delivered dispose us to penance, much more so does the substance of the message itself, by what it teUs both of our pre- sent state and of what one day is to happen to us. " Remember, man, that thou art dust." This is said to each one of us in par- ticular. When we think of death, we generally think of it as it affects others, or we reason about it as about a question of philosophy in the abstract ; but wiih the thoughts of our own death we do what we do with the dead themselves, we hurry to hide them and bury them deep out of sight. Death in con- nection with ourselves we see only in the long future, and by aid of this convenient abstraction we are enabled to give our- selves up to seek for our happiness among the sensible goods of this earti . But the recollection that we are dust must perforce detach us from t'uat inordirate love of pleasures, and riches, and honour^ >' L' '^ m kes up ali the sin of our lives. It is because we implicitly promise ourselves many years of life, that with the infidels in the Scripture, we seek so keenly for pleasure, saying with them : " Come, therefore, and let us enjoy the good things that are present, and let us speedily use the creatures as in youth. Let us fiU ourselves with costly wine, and ointments, and let not the flower of the time pass by us : let us crown ourselves with roses before tnev Via tirifliorfrl • lof -nri moarJnttr aana-no OU^ rinf. • lof. none of us go without hi£ part in luxury." (Wisd. ii.) 11 FIRST SUNDAY OP LEN"" 109 Tut even while these words are on our 1i't.c ^^ , , are hut dust, and that we are toTe w W 71™'^ *^"* ^« we resolve upon sinful elZmLtotih^''''^i^^'''' «°°^- I* present, deat^ may smiteK^ L .if .&°°4 ^^^^gs that are destine for ieliffht mTv L ?h«T /^''' "'^^'*' *^^ ^^^^^ ^e before the ro.es\re"Jhtd ife ^^ rthTTo; "^ "^^ ?^^ the meadow we select fnr n,,^^ gatnor tor our revelr,, TWs unbridled lust of ptsSre SHi^eT/ "^'^>^^^«-^ g^ava the part of men, who are but ^n!?' i, *i '?^'°, enjoyment on blinSness and m'aHce! even t ?ho'se' S ^^ /^1 ^^^^^ ^^°«* secrets of God, nor hoped for th«T« f- ''^° ^^^ ^^^ *te these men dea h meSimX n. T-f ?• *"* J^'*'^^" ^'^^^ J^t t« ashes," said theyrCd o^fpiT^^^^^^^ " Our body sh^ll be soft air . . . like a mhtZh^^- a- ^^ P^^""^^ ''^^^ad as the the sun." And ?f ^ven^n Tbn 7']- ^^^^ ^^ *^« ^^^ms of pleasure was bSndLess'n^^^^^^^^ '^l 1-t of the secrets of God who bpw! f^ * .i. '* '"^ ""^ ^^^ ^ow await us beyond the tavewL *^^^.«^'■« of our deed, bodies die o/r souls shaK; t^ e7:n^:^T wA^'^^l T. 18 to the sinner the Tjeffinnino. of p,? JliT ^ ^® ^^^ ^^^th between sinful plr^s^rfrand fb* f ? ' "^'^T' ^^ ^ow that the., is but thel;™olthe llenl IKl *'%^'^"^ ^°^ are but dust, that death mnv PnT« ^®^*^' "'^'^ ^^^oe we it not, then, almost wrbkTdn T^i ^' ^* "^^ °^°^^^t- I« the very God we outrZ is ^^1 l^i*i^ persevere in sin, since and ou7deathr DaSad^o W^^^^ i^^ ^^^^« ^^' l^o the hapless IdngmrLrl^^^^^^^^^^^ S/'"\^itrth'^^luS ^^' ^'" *^^ -^^' th?u\lf nlt'^S for success, of mone™kCnTK'^'°^^'%*^^^"^"^ «* «*ruggle tbings good eruglirthd^ av"bT''v\''H™^P°«^^ faul£o|ennasteriiVtb:ToM^^^^^^^ our own Iist^tXnCsrhtra!!^e^^^^^^^ |^^? ^^^^ the went ; take thy rest eat dr^f a ^ Z'"'" ^^^^ y^^^«' onjoy- worldly goods t^o whichteX a?e ZtlT^ ^'T; ¥^ enjoyment of many years TnAhl'J^^ *'• ^''"''^^ ^°^ *^e years wherein to e^v Tern? Tb ^ ^'^"^''^ ^^ *^« "^^^y rich man ; '< ThouTJ f >.!• • J J^^^^P^ncement made to that thee, and whose shaUfW^^ do they require thy soul of videdP-isrtechocdintbpt, ''^%^'. ""^''^ ^^«^ ^ast pro- we are dust Givet man ?h?b''f ^^^'''^ ^o us to-day-Lt bpart A~~: f f^^^ t^o best position that fivpn bi/r>r--'i" Kg WJuct absorbs us so of tea to t^e forgetfuluess 'I. no FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT. i of our souh' concerns ; give him wealth, and reputation, and honoured name ; and when he shall have hecome what Job was in the bloom of his prosperity, great among all the people of his country, what is he, after all, but a passing stranger in the midst of all his greatness ? Should he call himself owner of those goods, ask him to prove his title by retaining them as his own for ever ; and if, being dust, he cannot retain them, if he is to go out from amongst them stripped of all his riches, then he IS but a sojourner, and not a master. And if so, shall we neglect for those things, which in spite of ourselves we must leave, the care of our souls, and thereby forfeit the riches that remain for ever ? Finally, my brethren, we are warned to-day of something which is one day to happen to us, and in this warning we are once more exhorted to penance : " Into dust thou shalt return." These words tell us of a sore affliction coming upon us which can find no consolation but in God. God has been so merciful towards us as to hide from us the day in which our dissolution shall take place ; but we are here reminded that it is inevitable, and that one dreadful moment shp.ll come for each one of us, in which others will tell us, or we shall tell ourselves, •' For me life is over ; I must die." My brethren, who but God alone can soften the bitter agony of that awful moment ? All the goods of earth, all the science, all the love of our nearest and dearest, all the strength of our own manhood— of what avail will they be to lighten that supreme sorrow ? Ezechias was a sovereign whose life had been spent amid all that makes life sweet ; and yet, upon hearing the words, " thou shalt die and shalt not live," he wept with much weeping, Saul had a daring spirit, and yet when he heard from Samuel that on the morrow he should die, he fell forthwith on the ground, for he was frightened with the words. Even to those who have lost all, that moment is full of anguish. Agag, deprived of crown, country, friends, liberty, yet cried out at the approach of death, Oh ! bitter death, " doth bitter death separate in this manner ?" Darker than the gloom that encompassed him, wilder than the passionate hate of his foes, was the fear that rushed in upon him at the sight of his coming death. But if we would learn how weak and panic-stricken one feels in the awful presence of death, look in the Garden of Olives, at the prostrate figure of Him in whom our human nature existed in its highest and most perfect form. And if He found no consolation in his sorrow save in this, that He was doing the will of his Father, if the comfort that came to Him came only from the angels of God, where shall we turn for our comfort and consolation excent t-o that same God ? But if, through neglect of penance, we have FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT. Ill outraged God P Bat if before thrlmenrwe Zll h! T«- rrl^l^rI!s^lTHr:e:ft^;i"H"t forlove! Wh°tthou,ri>„tfS^ "5 mn,r8, were crucified unlearn « JftloS of Ita^TC rt" T/ ""?■" '=''■"'<'* claim victoiT over ?s hL loTOwni ^^ l*™.?*" *'"."' W«>" ^ dawn ligu jingle, t,X tt7al"e"f a^l^Lte '°tf ? He has wrested from the p-mva ,'f c ^- + ^ 7^ ^^'^^ ^'^'^^ No; the torment of deathS not7oSh '"^ f''} 't ^*^^^- since through death Christ hatrdroyeJ.^^^^^^ t /.?' empire of death, and delivered tnpm IT .1, ,^¥ ^^^ ^^^ into^drtT'u'feeZn'it"^^^^^^ ^»" "-.'J-'' ^""J ^at excite witiin yoftre'^^kri penlte'Te^tT^""'^ *» abhor the sin which hasLn therur„f you 'deaf C '" of whose maliffnitv its woes arc hi.t tl,„ Z- t ™Mn, the sm whose poison changed irfehi?o del I„t',f lyT™' *'"' ™ are dust detach yoffrom aU inordt'atf 1 ^Z";?"" ^'"'* y" and riches, and LourHf this w»W „ Z 1 1^'^^'^^"' :ol":Tet'';r crK-f - v~ % up treasuri'oVStCfoTtL?st^rrW°r.rr S\rgre^afslltt;^M^c7l"r^^^^^ prrtta^sriiTdSt^S^^^^^^^^ derness and compassion towards vo„"S«T ^^^^^essible ten- saith the Psalmist • <^V7Z l.x, .^ knoweth our frame," cii IS 74^^ A ^.1, % remembereth that wearednst" (A »ep of ls:7e/Th;infei^r K4- If i I 112 STATIONS OF THE CROSS for death into a sorrow according to the Lord which worketh penance unto salvation. And thus by the almost omnipotent ethcacy ot penance the Justice and the Mercy of God are made to meet over the head of the dying penitent Christian ; and if Justice exficts death as the punishment of sin, Mercy makes out ot the puni hment itself a. stronger claim to pardon. And thus by virtue of penance in death are blended together God's for- giveness and man's sorrow, like light and darkness in the twihgbt when the dawn is breaking in the East; and thus, through penance, is the sadness of death evermore swallowed up m the joy of victory. ^ STATIONS OF THE CROSS. If external honour rendered to the Passion of Christ is all that Christ asks from us Christians, then, my brethren, vou have every reason to hope that your Saviour looks down upon you to-day with eyes of satisfaction and love. As a Christian is known by the sign of the cross, so the very situation of your town IS made manifest to the traveller, when still ; far from it by this beautiful church which, crowning this height, is raised, as It were between your homes and the heavens, a link between both through which your prayers, ascend, to^descend in a thousand graces from God upon you. And what feeling has raised this church but a desire to do honour to that altar on which day after day the death of the Lord is shown forth ? God has been lavish to your native spot, and has poured over its hills and valleys a wealth of beauty, of which only rare drops are bestowed elsewhere ; and you have in return remembered Him. If his hand has crowded beauties about you, for your benefit, your hands have not been slack m crowding beauties about his cross for the honour of that .ame. And to-day, my brethren, you are here to add another work of heaven to his Passion by erecting here the Stations of the Cross, whereby you may be enabled ever to keep before your eyes the thought of all that your Re- deemer has suffered for you. To honour the Passion you have searched the bosom, of the earth for the hard rock which you moiUded into springing columns, and clustering arches: to honour the Passion you have sought for trees in the forest which you might shape mto goodly forms of use and beauty for this I* STATIONS OF THE CR .S. 113 ^^'^'o^'t^t^^ f- nature the adorn the altar, the VrerSl^erTof t^^'^^ the sanctuary; you havfrnadt^: r h^.uS"t '7r''^™^ tributary to your reverence, since you will not afw •/ ""T fall upon the tabernacle, but across rip^rnl. J '\^ •'^''y^ *« teach it to burn new ilorv nn?? \ °^'"'' ^^^^ '^'^^^^ you tave assembled in TrowdsVw''^ ^T^^ ' ""''^ ^^-^''Y Yon testimony of the honom in .^btJI^ '''°?7, ""^^ ""'''' ^^icit -fferingi If, tbe™4rlltif is^SI.ItT^^^^^^^ Ood, never did people better fulfil thnL i , .1 ^ ^'equired by know well, m/brethren thatLr^^^^^ ^"* ^'"^ Jews that 4o3^"^honoS Him V^S ^^ ^^^° complained of the were far f rom^ Him, does nrstTn J in 7 ?% '^^'^'' '^"^ ^'^''^ our hearts; that a 1 we do fn! ir • ''^.°"' ^'''''^'' ^''^ of the type of the holJo of o^h S " '^J'^l^'^^-^^'^^^ it be pay Him should be like an imn,l • external lionour we is the love of our hearts An? n ''i"'' '"'''' "^ ^^'^"^'^^ ^he seal we are doing tLdardo7o\^blT'.'l' fn'","^^!^^"'''"-^- °f ^^^^^t offerings if they weil'notliing t re th"n s^f/""^^^ ^''^^ 3-- as men set up in their homo^l' "n. .T? , ornaments such esteem theuj unleS^Tas trexL^^^^^ you by Him for his sorrows ?TT? *¥ /eelmgs excited in wants not our ima^^es nor nl. . V^-'^'^'^l^^^ '''""'^'^ "ot : He Those paintings, "tl^:S,ZC^Slt7"'^ "'' ^^"T* which you express the feelino-s that our s7v ' ^T ^"^ ^^* ^^ excited in you. l^ow I woJ^hn. I 'Saviour s sulferings have that the eients TlheiTs^^^lT^^^^^^^^ seen by very different peoXa'nfexciteF ^^^'"f «^«"^'^-«d, were m them according to tLir difforl f^ • ^^^ ^^^^^'-^^it feelings the Passion, and W sawl fe pTs^STi "^ ^^^' ^'''' «^^- under the eve« of bntli l^ "^ ^^^^^^ ; the same persons were Bui, oh, how' f r difcVwereTo ff '' ^'^^ "^^^'^ ^^^- -- that were borne bv each TJ, J^^^'^^nts and the feelin-v^ other's heart . asl^by it^^'^ow Z'lf^f '' '"^ 'f'^''^^ ^^1 the events of the crosLa e mn^^^ed o^f^' "' '-^'"^'""^ ^^'"^^ as we said, God accepts froni eJ^ot to? /l''' P-'^^''^-""^' expression of the feelino-s ; V ■^°'' J^'''''' P'^^ures as an your hearts: the figure^^^^^^^^^^ \''''^ awakened in different ; if so, my b tb^i in Jho j^"' the feelings may be stations have as many dx^nt n eW^^'' ""^ ^°^ ^^'^^^^ ti^^«e thoughts about Christ^ A S J LI f ^' """ ^'°"' ^''''^' ^^"^^ word is but the expressit ^of ^tho?^?,! f ff '^'^ ^ represent Christ as you conceive of H^-' ^^"'^P'^^ures, then, then. ;.« Ohn-t i~ i- ^""^^ive ot ilnn in vour hp;.rt« ^m-^K 9 B STATIONS OF THE CROSS. my brethren, that you should carefully inspect and examine what kind of feelings are those which fill your hearts to-day about the sufferings of Jesus Christ, My brethren, I would do an unjastice to you if even for a moment I could suspect that among you there is even one who in the devotion of this day does not wish to pay a tribute of re- spect and tender affection to our Saviour. I will be your spokes- man. " Yes, my Saviour, my outraged, insulted Lord, else- where, indeed, this morning ungrateful men may insult Thee and spurn Thee, elsewhere men may heap contumely on thy holy person ; but here, here at least, there is a faithful people, each one of whom is anxious, in the devotion of this day, to salute Thee with honour, and reverence, and respect. Else- where men may turn their backs upon Thee, but there is not one here who does not long to approach near to Thee, to press his sinful lips to the hem of thy garment, for we hardly dare to touch thy divine face ; elsewhere let men revile Thee in words ; of all those present there is not one who will not bid Thee hail a thousand times.' But even while I speak, my brethren, a cold chill falls across my soul, and a terrible thought chocks my utter- ances. Did not Judas say as much to Jesus as I have now said for you ? Did he not approach our Lord with dcwncast, reverent eyes as you have done ? Did he not come close to Him, did he not open his accursed arms to embrace Him, did he not press the Lamb to his perjured heart, did he not fix upon the countenance of the Holy of Holies a kiss of tender salutation as warm as yours ? Con 1 it be possible, then, my brethren, that there is anyone am( g you Avhose devotion to-day is only an act of treachery and hypocrisy as was that of Judas ? Can it be possible that there is any one to whom at this moment our Lord is saying, as He sees him before Him taking part in worship, " Judas, wouldst thou then betray the Son of Man with a kiss r* Dost thou come here to betray me by joining in devotion to my honour ?" Oh, my brethren, I am compelled to believe that it is possible: Judas was an apostle, you are not so high ; Judas was the chosen friend of Christ, you have not had that grace ; what Judas did, you may do. Perhaps the mark of Judas is on some of your souls to-day ; — and what is in this mark ? Avarice, my brethren, and greed of unjust gain. If there be anyone here to-day who for the sake of gaining a few shillings, or less, would not hesitate to commit sins, and sell his God ; if there be anyone who has laid up to himself the property of another ; — that man has the mark of Judas upon him ; and to-day, my brethren, whilst he is here pretendi^ ^ > pay respect to his God, he is betraying his Saviour with a Did Judas honour Christ, although he kissed him so reve- STATIONS OF THE CROSS. [ examine [•ts to-day sven for a L one who ute of re- ir spokes- ord, else- suit Thee y on thy ul people, is day, to ;t. Else- ere is not to press [y dare to in words ; lee hail a en, a cold my utter- now said , reverent n, did he ; press the ienance of as yours ? is anyone treachery sible that saying, as s, wouldst liou come ' Oh, my e^ Judas le chosen at Judas le of your brethren, •e to-day vould not yone who man has sn, whilst betraying I 80 reve- 115 rn\V m:;e°?Ln1f ttd^S^'^ 'tr^^^^^ ^- these two things-Judas devnnf tnpt -^^ ^ ^^°^- ^hink of for thirty pieL-Ld ans^t^"^^^^^^^^^ homage ? Then say of vouTs^lf T ..^ ^ ^^""'^ ^'^^P' ^'^ rate the Passion of Christ when tT ^'''.t,*^-^^^^ *° ^e««- Him for a little uniust J^S^ a ^'''''^ ^^""^ ^ ^^^e sold your devotion to-Zf 8h no n^frTi; "'" S^^^^^ ^^^P^ please Christ to-day^you musrhav/ niw?''"' ^ ^"" ^^^^^ without anv of his hySsT von L / *?' ^''Pf "* ^^ ^^^as love for ChVist under^TSumltanc'r' "'' °"'^ ^^°" ^^* ^^^ for yot sJ^'j^^V' i%n,,^-^*^ ^^^^ -*^ i-e superficial love, b^ut that 'love of whTch Ar.sf?^'''^' ^''''' devotio imitare quod coUmus-ix Ic.vp ZT f ^"^^stme says, vera a love of the crucifix Xch cruoifip.i 'T.^' ^"* °^ d^^^l^. to the world: a lo^^ wSh mS. I ''''^^. ^^ ^^^^ ^ because Christ is suk W Cvo^ ^^hio'^'^'t ^^"^ P^««^°"« penance because Christ Ts han ^'0^. ^ "^^^'^ ^.°^ ^^^^^ *« you to keep in oheck et^^fs^e Sro "^.^^ *^\^^^^ means, do you love suffering, denial of self J.Hfi^T*'°°' *^""' abstammg from the pleasures of fL^il?''^*'°'''P^^ance, overwhelSied with su?h P TwHl t^ ""'^^ ^'^"^^ ^^^^^t is Irethren, that it is hard for Lrheartrr'^n.'^ ^^^^1^' '^y m this way. Our hearts arpTnf.T. ^^ ^""^^ ^^"^^ « su£Perinf. -hat isga^, andbr^ht:^^^^^^^^^ indulging i.". m loving i Saviour whosrsouff/;*. 7 ^""^ ^"^^^ difficulty ness, wh'ose body is one mass cTlT' '^ 'T'^ "^^ ^^^der- puts to flight the foSLs aTd the .l''''' '"^"'^ ^'^^^ ^^g^^t world. Bift if you have noAi? • P^easuifS we love in the «ay that you syj:rp tb : w th J^^^^^^ measure how can you lowship in sufFeriig, andTf von W . ' T'^P''^^ means fol- bears, 'how can vou s?y yoVshVreTt "^Itlv "f "f^ ^« Christ be 80 hard, you think^o lovrT^^^^^^ /t would not infant, or when He hea ed the sick n ml I • T^'''' ^ t^"^^^'' and made the lame towX wl . •' ^'i^^'T "«^* ^» ^'^o blind hard to love Him brm'rd moll-Jn^^ *^1 ^''^^ *« ^^^^^ 5 but it i brethren, it is for tCt verv n^^^"^' ''^^f' ^^"^^ ^^'^'^^^'^^fe'- My because lie is filled wL X rthrt'>^^^ ''}''' """ ' ^'^ ^^ You might have some e^^sf ff if S ^ suffermg as lie is, if, when He Wow 7 ^'"'''"^^ I^"". you exposed to no s^ffeW o/Xn^^ If lie came to yon and found von if. "^'"^f \ no calamity. (■} ^AJiZJSM 116 STATIONS OF THE (KOSS. in what condition did our Saviour find you ? Can there be any state imagined more full of suffering than ours ? In our soul — in our body— in our sickness— death — hell ? Call to mind all the punishments due to sin, multiply them as often as sin has been committed in the world, then say these sufferings were to be undergone by me when my Saviour first loved me ; if, 'then, Christ so loved you, although condemned to such punishments as these, ought you not in return love Him, although He is filled with suffering, as you see ? You should share his sufferings, then, my brethren, even although they were altogether his own. But, O my God, are these sufferings — the very sight of which often saddens us — are they his. or not rather ours ? Surely He had no suffering of his own, that is, none that lie did not endure for our salvation. " Surely He hath borne our infirmities, and carried our sorrows : and we have thought Him, as it were, a leper, and as one struck by God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our iniquities, lie was bruised for our sins : the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and by his bruises we are healed " (Isaias, liii, 4, 5). Whence, then, came this sea of suffering ? for as man, Christ's body was sinless, and, if sinless, therefore painless. Add up all that He endured : poverty, neglect, insult, scorn, the crown of thorns, the scourge, the crucifixion ; — they are yours, not his. And shall we not love Him the more for" the very reason that He is so afflicted, so bruised ; seeing, too, that He most delibe- rately accepted them all for our sake. Not only are they our sufferings, but He shows Himself most loving when He is most covered with wounds. We should then love Christ most when He is most loving to us. But He is then most loving to us when He is most covered with wounds. His whole life is an act of love towards us ; but there are times when his love surged up in waves of greater strength, ^ jwed in flames of greater intensity. What are the occasions when this so happened ? When He speaks of his Passion. Hear the words of burning love He then addresses to us : "I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptised, and how I am straitened till it be accomplished " (Luke, xii. 50). " The chalice that my Father gave me, shall I not drink it ':"' (John, xviii. 11.) " Having loved, those that were in the world, He loved them to the end" (John, xiii. 1). Nay, He Himself, like a true lover, has insisted that we should remember Him, that we should ever keep his memory green in our hearts. When we wish to live in the memory of our friends, my brethren, do we not desire to be remembered in the most agreeable light, with most love and greatest affection. Well, then, " this do yc in coniiuemoration of me." He might have wished to be remembered as an infant. STATIONS OF THE CROSS. 117 suffering ,?h ah* t£ r-n"?-""?'/ ?"' ",'' '"'«' *° '°™ T,„^j * ^ utarc tnat is inclined to love cleasuro Tf ia fo. a s°uffSrr' P'^r--?' '■"'' present ho/our:"ut„£We lOT a suHei mg Redeemer who is «<,< present, and whom we doZt MO. Coinpany, jests, amusements, gain, take a D-roat h J^ T, fl thT^rS^" \-d tobamsh themil to'golSsSing ol and future ovof\r./i 9 V"^^''^ ^""^'"^^ ^''^^ unbearable Christ ir:oSnld"dUX w•ll^et^:n^\"'^^^ and suL?irifiwi'f '' '' ^'^'"^'' *^^' *^^ ^'^'^ dreads pain Passion oFrin.-fv''''''^''''''^^ ^*^ °"g^<^ *« be devout to the ment I LttU J"\ T '^^* *^^ ^'^^* ^^ ^^^^^ for enjov! together. E^^eryone muV.^y>. ' ^""^ i"" ^^."^'^ ^^^^ ^«»^« If so m V wl ^ • ^. , ^^ ^^^^0"^ «n"?sio nipi.^ . '?'"' 'v^ ^^'" ^^^^^* ^^^^ cially in our death f xvllii ^r^"'*.' ^"^ ^^'" d^^^^''^^'^' ^^d espe- WruLntylrothrc'n'r:^^^^^^^^^ present in your n^mie L"' ^^"^ i ^''''' ''"^' '^°'' ^'^°'' ^ love for tk^ PaSon o"chrisfr?rff/T^'''''^^^^^^^ still loved you-— wonlrl ^^'^''^•' ^ie found you suffering and suffered 'r> in. Lff • ^°'' ''^^"'^ ^« ^«^'<^ II'u^ ^^cau.fe He love hII; who did"diS ZyiL''%''Vr^ ^ ?^^ ^- -^ you; will you feai WHhn "l^^^^^^^^ to show his love for what you CO for the w or d P VHl ^^'\y^V'^^'''^ to do for Him help of hi« Passion? Xo behold then t?s"'- ^''''T^^'^ f ^^^ vout to thy person • let tbp o i? f ' i' ^V'T''' *^^ I'^^^P^^ ^e- J pu.on , let tlie.c Stations be a pledge of their love. 118 PASTORAL LETTER ON THE JUBILEE OF 1 875. B PASTORAL LETTER ON THE JUBILEE OF 1875. George, «y the Grace of God and Favour of the Apostolic See, Bishop of Ardagh and Clonmacnois, to the Faithful OF his Diocese. Dearly Beloved in Chkist, While Daniel the prophet " Wcis praying and confessing his sins and the sins of his people, and presenting his supplica- tions in the sight of his God" (Dan. ix. 20-24), the Angel Gabriel, flying swiftly, touched him at the time of the evening sacrifice, and revealed to him the speedy accomplishment of God's merciful designs, " that transgression might be finished, and sin might have an end, and iniquity might be abolished, and everlasting justice might be brought." How beautiful in the sight of the man of desires were the feet of the angelic messenger, thus bringing good tidings to the sinful people, and preaching peace and salvation. How sweet to him the assurance that, even from the beginning of his prayer, the answering word had gone forth from the heart of God, and that the Lord was at length about to show his face upon his sanctuary that had lain desolate so long. It is our pleasing duty to convey to you to-day, beloved brethren, a similar message of mercy on the part of God. Ou^ Holy Father, Pius IX. — the angel of the Catholic Church, who in these days of trial is to his children as Gabriel, the Strength of God — has charged us to announce to you that for the exaltation of the Church, for the sanctification of the people of Christ, and for the glory of God, he has granted a universal and great Jubilee for the entire year 1875. For this year he has opened wide to you, and to all the faithful, the heavenly treasure of the merits, and sufferings, and virtues of Christ our Lord, of his Virgin Mother, and of all the saints, which has been entrusted to him by the Author of man's salva- tion. Once, and once only, during the year all those who comply with the prescribed conditions can obtain the great In- dulgence of the Holy Year of Jubilee, and full remissioix and pardon of all their sins. " And thou shalt sanctify the fiftieth year, and shalt proflaim remission to all the inhabitants of thy land : for it is the year of Jubilee " (Levit. xxv. 10). And that we may be enabled to profit fully by the great grace thus extended to us, the same Holy Father exhorts us to send up public prayers to the God of clemency, that He would fill with his light and grace the minds and hearts of all, that PASTORAL LETTER OX THE JUBILEE OF 1875. 119 they may know this the day of their ealvation, and may not despise the riches of his goodness, and patience, and W- Buffering. For this pin-pose, therefore, beloved brethren we nvite you to join with faith, humility and persevcranc; b those prayers which we have appointed to be^acit^STth^ churches, to obtain from God for the faithful of this dfocese the grace of making good use of the blessings of the JubTlee the H^TSr"' W r ' "^^ and necessaV preparation l; tHe Holy Year. We have hitherto abused manf and many of God s graces ; ought we not, then, tremble lest our past ingrati- favour ? Our sins have risen up like a wall, " and have divdef between us and our God" (Isai!^lix. 2); and now 1 effort of ours wiU avail to undo their dreadful wok, " that hkL Ms facl ivom us that He shoiUd not hear," unless we are helped W Him who IS om- peace, who hath made both one. breakirfof 1^ th^ undertake is diLt ^ihl^i^Le^'^^^^^^^^^^ t^^ iess than the thorough cleansing of our corrupt wP-,\on?l^ ^rse hearts the sun'dering of tie chaLsT sS', w'on.tfo'f oirselves, and the newness of the supernatural life. Ho y ?hen cTnXTbunrwb""' '^^^"-"^ ^^"^' "^^^-* whom"; tn S mnZf ll J^T' T^''' '^" are strengthened, we can do ail tnings.'^ Let us, therefore, approach the holy work of iC Jubilee in the spirit of humility and with a contritlheart W a^so with David's confidence, saying: "Send forth O P.^' +1 S '^iV'f-r ^^ .'^^y Win^ducted me anJ' S-oS ml to thy holy hill, and into thy tabernacles. TVhy art thou s^ my sou , and why dost thou disquiet me ? Hope n God 1; 1:^0^^'(^:T'^' ^^ '-^-^- ^' /ycouiSnt Our Holy Father next reminds us of our obligation of ;. structing you concerning the Jubilee itself, Z natSe tLdvan" tages, and the steps you are to take to secure tSe advantZ: for your souls._ What, then, is the Jubilee? WhafarefbP benefits which it brings? And what are tbp o.^r? ^^ which these benefits are to bf gained' '°^^^'^°^' "P"^^ our Lorfj'strChS^^^^ ^^ '^' P^^^^r of abund^LS^LtlrserS w^SX oldf a' T^^" r: ;;rof thtSt^^' ^^^^^r '^^ ^ttwti^p^^ratt^ f^^erd:;:^frnCths^^^^^^^^^^ by a «acred festival to which special "obligatio'n;;;:;^^^^^^^^^ by God, so also each period of seven tiles seven years was 'ii.fl I) 120 PASTOIIAL LETTER ON THE JUHILEE OF 1 875. f) ) i I followed by a sacred year, called the year of Jubilee. Thia year, beginning on thu day of expiation, and ushered in to the sound of tiumpets, was a year of complete rest and renovation of Jill things. The land was allowed to rest from tillage ; each family received back its absent members and the property that had been estranged from it; the payment of debts was not exacted ; bondsmen regained their liberty. Chief, then, among the benefits brought by the Jewish Jubilee were these : expiation of guilt, refreshing rest, restoration of lost advantages, forgive- ness of debts, emancipation of slaves ; and these same ben1;fits, transferred to tlio spiritual order and splendidly enlarged, are reproduced in tlio year of the Christian Jubilee. It is a year of expiation and redemption : of it the Saviour spoke when coming in his Passion with apparel red, and o-ar- ments like theirs that tread in the wine press. He said :*'" I that speak justice, and am a defender to oave . . . the year of my redemption is come" (Isai. Ixiii. 4). It is a year of re- freshing rest ; for in it the Prince of peace invites to his heart all those who labour and are heavy burdened, that lie may refresh them, that they may find rest for their souls. It is a year of renovation, in Avhich we are allowed to redeem our misspent time, to recover our lost graces, to restore our wasted strength, to revive our perished merits. In it God tells us : " He will make the early and the latter rain come down to us, as in the beginning . . . and I will restore to you the years ■which the locust and the mildew have eaten; and 3'ou shal". praise the name of the Lord your God, who hath done wonders with you " (Joel, ii. 23-25). It is a year of mercy and pardon. The periods of the world's history arc rapidly passing, and eact year as it follows after year carries before the judgment-seat it* own dark record of sin, by which man unceasingly provokes the anger of the God of justice. But at length, in the midst of all those sin-stained years, a white year of pardon has come, in which God's work upon earth is no longer that of the ano-er that slays, but of the mercy that gives life : " Lord, thy work in the midst of years bring it to life ; in the midst of years Thou fihalt make it known ; when Ihouart angry Thou wilt remember mercy" (Hab. iii. 2, 3). It is a year of emancipation from bondage. Our Lord has applied to Himself and to his mission the words in which the Scripture describes the Jewish year of liberation : " The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, wherefore He hath anointed me, to preach the Gospel to the poor He hath sent me,^ to heal the contrite of heart, to preach deliverance to the captive, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach, the acceptable year of the Lord" (Luke, iv. 18, 19). Most truly, indeed, may it be styled the acceptable year of the Lord>. PASTOKAI. LETTEK Ox\ THE JUUILEE OF 1 875. 121 for it bnn^.s to us "those times of refreshment, those times of the restitu ion oi all things," of which, St. l>ct;r says, God has spoken by the mouth of his prophets from the beginning of Sie Ho t ''^^'ht*^^ T\*'r *^° P^««^^«« ^f the Lo^rd and ^h^S'" (Ss. ^^^^^ ^-^ ^--^^' -^^ you, Jesus f>,of^v'^ ""' ^^'/^^^'i^^ Jubilee wis instituted by God chiefly proot ot God 8 supreme dominion over men, and a practical ksson of conhdence in his Divine Providence, so, too the Christian Jubilee returns at determined intervals to exh S to a world but too apt to forget such truths a living melrkl of Gods mercy and of the copious redemption thaUs with Him The unwritten tradition of Christendom hud long celebratS ihis season of grace at intervals of a hundred yearns; BoSce VIII., however, in 1295, was the first to establish W ft! authority of a decreo that it should be held at th b In^L o? each century. In 1345, Clement V. reduced to fifty years thi mterva between each Jubilee, and this term was stm further reduced to thirty years by Urban VT h, ViW „, w •/ ^""'^er duration of twe^t^^five Je^sty'^auflY' ^"4^^^^^^ happy circumstances^of the times did not allow the celebration of the Jubilee in 1850; and even to-day, far f rom beim? emne *V? -!\'^' ^^''^^ '^^''^^ «b«tacles exist in an ac^^ravated form 'mtwithstandiug this," writes our most Holy Fa her 'taK m nT";V'"'r t^^?. ^^"y evils that afflict^ the Church Sf many hostile eftbrts directed to uproot the Christian Stb fo corrupt sound doctrine, and to diffuse the poton of Lpt'tv' the many scand.lsr.at everywhere beset the f ai hf ul • The hi ' crease ot immorality; the violation of all rio-hts human ^d divine, so widespread, so ruinous, and so destnictiveTf e>;rv sentiment of rectitude; and considering that n lo ^reS^n Xica-'.'"'™ -"'•■• '■''."'«■- -»?- * Encyclical, 24th December, 1874, I 122 PASTORAL LETTER ON THE JUHILEE OF I 875. The Encyclical requires also that on this occasion of the promulgation of the Jubilee the faithful should be instructed concerning the nature of indulgences. Thanks be to God, the accurate knowledge, dearly beloved which you possess of the doctrines of our holy religion happily renders this part of our duty easy of discharge. Wherefore abstaining from any lengthened explanation of what is already well known to all, we shall merely repeat for your benefit the summary of instruction which, on occasion of the Jubiiee of 1750 the learned Pontiff, Benedict XIV., held to be sufficient lor the faithful peoijle : "It will be enough for the faithful people to know, that through the Sacrament of Penance if properly received, the guilt and eternal punishment of sin are taken away, while the debt of temporal punishment is very rarely taKcn away, but. remains to be discharged by works of satisfaction in this life, or by the fire of Purgatory. ' It will oe enough for the Christian people, likewise, to know that there is in the Church an unfailing treasure consisting of the infinite merits of Christ, to which are added the other merits of the saints ; that the administration of this treasure has been con- fided by the same Christ our Lord to his vicar on earth, the Koman Pontiff ; and that, consequently, according to the pru- dent discretion of the Roman Pontiff, and for just reasons, these merits may be applied more or less amply for the benefit of the laithtul ; for the living, by way of absolution ; for the dead, by way of suffrage : on condition, however, that the living shall, by penance, have cancelled their guilt and the eternal punishment due thereon, and that the dead shall have departed this life united to God by charity. This application of merits is called an Indulgence, and whosoever gains it is freed from the temporal punishment of his sins, according to the measure of the appli- action which the legitimate dispenser of the same had deter- mined to grant. Hence A. follows that the use of Indulgences IS most advantageous to the Christian people, and that the erroneous doctrine which holds Indulgences to bo of no avail, or the Church not to have the power of conferring them, is to be altogether condemned. Finallv, the faithful are to be in- structed that the Indulgence of the year of the Jubilee is Plenary, and that it is to be distinguished from all other Plenary Indulgences even if granted by way of Jubilee, in this, that in the Holy Jubilee year confessors receive more ample powers, as well to absolve from sins as to dispense from certain obligations and impediments by which the consciences of penitents are sometimes constrained." * • In BuUario Bened. xiv. PASTORAL LETTER ON THE JUBILEE OF 1 875 123 noss marlo hv drA tr^ • £ 1 uniimitecl iorHgious life of tlie diocese of which he is the child. From ihe Cathedral go(.'s forth the authoritative word of the Chief Pastor, to bind and loose according to the power confided to him by the Holy Chur(!li. Within its venerable sanctuary the young Levite receives with the imposition of hands the ample power of the priesthood, and thence ho goes forth with jurisdiction to bless, and absolve, and teach. ^ Ikfore its altar the Holy Oils arc blessed, which are to sanctify the newly baptised, to "strengthen the young in con- lie PASTORAL LETTER ON THE JUBILEE OF 1875. 127 firmation, to consecrate the hands of thp nn't^af o„^ i t and purify the senses of the i^n^h^^ttS:'' ^^^^^^^^ world, m these days of the JubUel, each Cathedral Church like an exulting mother of many children, will be filled with a pious throng of thefaithful coding in obedience to the voi e ot the Vicar of Christ to pay their due reverenrp t/ cannot imitate their exampleV^isiting tLTa red'l oi/Z diocese, you can at least prove your piety by contributU to mamtam it m honour such as befits the holy purposes for wbinb It was erected^ It is in truth, a glorious t^^g £Th Safoc ^se o have offered God a temple so beautiful in its ma esty Ts It not cquaHy glorious to preserve it from injury, now hat t has been for so many years the resting-place of the Lord con- secrated to his service, and chief seat of his mercy amoZ't us? Nothing IS more afflicting to the pious soul than\ behdd ^he ? tt '/.??? dishonoured by the traces of decay. Hence i? was tha Mathathius, rending his garments at the ^ ight of the dismantled Temple, cried out in sorrow: "And behold our sanctuary and our beauty, and pur glory is laid waste r(lX n 1^.) Let, then, your exertions on next Sunday on behalf of the restoration of our cathedral be not unworthy of those which you mad for its erection, lest it be said of u^s that we have grudgmgly repented of our gift to God. Be mindful also, that It IS incumbent oi. you to be liberal in aliZiv Sl^ during Lent, so as to make some compensation to God for tht indulgent relaxation which, through%ompassion for the in firmitics of her children, the Church has permitted in the rigour of her law of fasting. Finally, calling to mind that almsgiving is one of the virtues that have been f peciaU v recom mended to you for the Jubilee by our Holy FatW the Po^ '" endeavour to satisfy by one generous effort o^i next Sunday ?ES threefold call of charity. '' Give, and it shall be given to Vou But, although the conditions for gaining the Jubilee are thus a"' JtfeS r d''^ M f'r '"^ ' "^^^"' ^^ - inconXfbl care, attention, and watohfulness on our part. It is not enouob to r£ P^.'^"'" tT''^^ ^"J«^"^d' ^^^ «^"-ld do our utS to perform tliem with devotion. St. Catharine of Genoa used to say that ,f Christians did but know how difficult it is to Vain in du Igences, the knowledge would fill them with fear The no I ^^!:£}^-^^yC -?- works.ought tobefoXd ^ISZ II H! smsae^-c — 5?sij ■--a.j I a, 128 PASTORAL LETTER ON THE JUHILEE OF 1 875. _ (1)._ "That a person be in the state of grace, and in friend- ship with God ; for while one continues in sin, at enmity with God, and deserving eternal punishment, he is incapable of re- ceiving an indulgence. On this account, in all grants of plenary- indulgences the general condition required for gaining them is that the person apply first to the sacrament of penance in order to put his soul in the state of grace, without which he cannot receive that benefit, 2. " That the conditions required in the grant of the indul- gence be exactly performed ; for indulgences are always granted on certain conditions, to be performed on our part, such as ap- proaching to the Ilcly Sacraments, Avorks of charity and mercy, exercises of piety and religion, prayers for the necessities of the Church, and the like. If these conditions be not complied with we cannot gain the benefit of the indulgence granted. 3. " In order to gain the full benefit of a plenary indulgence, it is also necessary to have a perfect repentance and sincere detes- tation of all our sins, even the least venial sin ; because, as the punishment of sin will never be forgiven while the guilt of it remains in the soul, and as a sincere repentance is absolutely required for the remission of the guilt, therefore this sincere repentance must precede the remission of the punishment. " Hence, we may see how few there are who gain the full effect of a plenary indulgence, as there nre few who have a sincere and efficacious repentance for every venial sin, and a firm resolution of avoiding every sin, great or small, with all the occasions of sin. Stili, this ought not to hinder us from en- deavouring to gain a plenary indulgence when occasion offers ; for though we should not gain the whole effect of it, the more we endeavour, and the better our dispositions are, the more ample benefit will we reap. We can never, indeed, be certain to what extent we gain this benefit, and from our imperfect dis- positions have too much reason to fear that we have yet a great debt to pay. " Our endeavouring to gain an indulgence, therefore, ought not to render us remiss, but rather encourage us to lead a peni- tential life ; for the more we strive by works worthy of penance to satisfy the divine Justice, the better shall we be disposed for gaining the more abundant fruits of an indulgence when the opportunity offers. When we have done our best, it is little to what we ought to have done. Indulgences supply the deficien- cies of human infirmity, but can never be supposed to encourage negligence or sloth."* " Finally, we address ourselves," these are the holy father's concluding words, " to all you who are children of the Catholic Church, and with fatherly love we exhort each and every one * Dr. Hay'8 " Sincere Christian," On Indulgence. PASTORAL LEITER ON THE JUBILEE ON 1875. 129 you." It has ever been, rfrtow' rm^^^ c"strto°l- *"" your conscience f rem dead works to nwll .f ™?„""^3' *? P'Olnse .0 do fruits worthy of penancro^^l^ll.^^frfj-"-. reap m loy. The Bivine MniLt,, L„ i '^''".';'"" you may expects iom us forby relT7™,? "u" '"''"*'' ''>"* «« &4-»re wo:^'';-^eT;rh:rbrx?^ r:''-"^,^^^^^^ nations in search of help Let us do TettBr,!?/ neighbouring to God;" from Him le? utlr aM.I l^rS Hrm'tauftt"^ "fhe n:2rTea;;:^a?rrG'od"lt^fr' tI ''-■^-"" be repelled from uF But you abovellV ,? *°'i "'"' ^°™'" to our Apostolicvoice sSini ;n?v, ''™'/?,y°" l^'*"^- who labou'r and alZSet^ "str'ayVrfrom tSta4s^°", the pa'tiencc anrthe bnglfft rofS-^T °f "i'^.S'"*'-^. and wide a road of safety^lies „p ^bi^e ' ulo'ttr '"'^ obstmacy render yoursilves fnexcusaUe Wore the 11°'" •Judge, nor treasure up for yourselves wr.fl- S. ?"'"" wrath, and of the reraalino- oHfJ ' . -j " "■" ^y »* length you may merit peace in this world, and in the next tho eternal lovs ol the insst TKoc^ „^ ^^^'^ ''^'^ ask fronl our most mCdfulLovd ? rj'"^""' ' .*^^^ ^^ «^'^" with all the child e^of the Cafh^l^oP,' J^ "^^'^ ^^ P^^^^'^^ obtain from the Father of merdes" "^' "'" '^'"^* ^^^^ ^'^ ^^^ * ■* x_- ^L 1* l/JLiV-' L \J A J 1 11 III f-*^ '^ Wn *■ '^'' ^'"''' "^ °"^' ^^'^ J'''««« Christ be with all. Amen.' you ^ GEORGE CONROY, i?«//q/; ofArdmjh and Clonmacnok. ^s) Sf. JL'/'.s, Lo»!//ord, IGfh Febmary, 1875. * S. Maxiinus Taur. Ho m. xci. 10 LECTURES I pi BBrfi ill m I t] t] ti ai ir O tl fo li( bi w. LECTURES. THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND Otr demand that our rights in the matter of education shaU be respected could not be addressed to our rulers from a more fo be" r^loof f '" ^P'^"''" ^^*^^^^^^' -^-^ you ha'e rSsed to be a proof of your own respect for the sovereign ri-hts of spr^^'of the".V'^ of respect for_ the rights of others!' The ?r.l I . P]''''^ ^"^ ^^'^^^^^ ^n*o tlie words that shall be T^'^tV^'^''^^' *r q^^lit^^« ^^^^ are the glory and the fiZ^ .W ? ^K-!? ^'^'^ claim-firmness and modet-ation a firmness that forbids us to palter with wrong done to our Faith rthts shairot\*^''' 7^^' ^^ unflinchinlly demand our o^ of thP rS« rV' f^«;?,^o«^Passing the slightest violation L he A- °*^'''- These qualities are most conspicuous in the Catholic movement that is now taking place throughout com - Vh?.M^"L°* nothingmore honourable toour beloved coun. ^ than the noble spectacle which, in these days of a wild and debauched democracy, she alone affords, of a believing nation assemblmg in its peaceful thousands under the shadol truth and"'-' • ''''^'- ^/'H,^" °'^^^ ^^^P°^« t^-^ those oi fhp L?- ^ r' ''^^^^'^ *?°'" ^^^ ^«^^ld deny to Catholics the blessings of a religious education. It is to be regretted that the conduct of our adversaries has not displayed Hke fairness and th7p ' W ^- ^«^.*^«7' t^- Non-Conf?niists in England t^i}^ I'resbyterians m Ireland and Scotland have conspired, m language bristhng with insult and menace, to force upon the fheTrnd th'atTr '^ ^'^t" 'i""'''^^ ^'^ Ireland.'not on tne ground that it alone is just, or because it is plainly the best for he country but avowedly because -t is pernicious to Catho- btots W% ^A '^ '' !? "^"^^ *« be regretted that these bigots have found a mouthpiece in the Secretary for Ireland who wth unhappy dexterity, has succeeded in g^athering into - W-f ^!Sr' th,f r msolence and injustice when he doclared, ^e will never alloiv education in Ireland to be handed over to S 1 m %h 134 THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. ,1 t/ie priests." This little sentence, so bitterly scornful in its tone does m truth contain the two false principles from which, as from a double root, the whole system of godless education springs and from which it derives the radical injustice that incurably infects it. The first of these principles asserts that education is a civil function, and not a domestic or religious othce ; that the State has the right to pass the threshold of the house of each father of a family with a compulsory educational code in hand, to be administered as a department of politics without regard to the conscience of the parents. The second principle asserts that education may safely and wisely be divorced from religion; nay, that religious influences ought to be ex- cluded from the school. The cry, no priests in education! is but the practical application of these two principles ; and before I attempt to show how unjust they are in themselves and in their application, I wish to draw your attention to the fact, that the utterers of that hateful cry find themselves in very bad company indeed. It is the cry of all the enemies of Christianity and of social order throughout the world. The mixed school, giving a godless education, is distinctly the creation of the spirit of infidelity ; and you will find that in proportion to the decay of faith in Europe its advocates have grown bolder and still bolder. In the happy days before religious unity was broken, and when from the temples of a united Christendom there went up to God one harmonious hymn of praise, the idea oi education without religion was too monstrous even to enter into the mmds of men. With unfailing regularity, under the shadow of the stately cathedral, rose the university, and in the country hamlet the village school ever stood nea- ^^e hum- ble church. Among the canons, which one of earliest synods declares, " ought to be guarded by the bishops as the apple o± their eye," there is one to remind them " that every church which has not its scholars clustering round it is like a barren woman who hath no children." And in Ireland, so little has the lapse of ages changed this Catholic conception of the union between human and divine learning, that when we of to-day seek to clothe with words our ideal of what education ought to be, we find it expressed to the life in the maxims current in the old Celtic monasteries of the sixth century— that no man can be the child of science who does not love truth and justice, and that there is no truth or justice without the know- ledge of God. But when Protestantism appeared, the happy union between faith and science was rudely sundered. Luther declared that the high schools were " an invention of the devil, destined to obscure Christianity, if not to overthrow it com- pletely ; and that the four soldiers who crucified our Saviour THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. Vi5 were but symbolical representations of the universities with their four faculties. And among the propositions condemned in John WichfP by Pope Martin V., the tvventy-ninth is, that univcMsities, places of study, colleges, degrees, and master- ships in the same, have been introduced by vain i)aganism, and are ot as much service to the church as the devil is." liut the movement which began by thus sacrificing educa- tion in the supposed interest of religion, finally ended ?n sacri- hcing religion in the supposed interests of education. As one dogina after another melted away before the newly acquired right oi private judgment, the school faithfully reflected the decay of religious influence on the individual, domestic, social lite ot the people, until to be godless became its normal t^De, and education was at last degraded to be the vile handmaid of infidelity, lov the infidelity of our day is not merely a specu- lative opinion lurking in the hearts and minds of its professors ; it has a public policy of its own, in pursuance of which it aims at the destruction of Christian civilisation, that instead it may build up a new society, without God, without authority, without property. Now, the great obstacle to the success of this sch<>nie has been found to exist in the Catholic school, through which mamly, the Christian idea continues to strike deep its roots in the hearts of the people. It was resolved, therefore, that edu- cation should be secularised ; that the crucifix should be cast out from the school, and the image of the chaste and tender Mother of God should be expelled, lest the children by look!..- upon the face of their Christ or of her who bore Him should learn how to live and to die as the Christian faith prescribes. And this is the avowed motive of that passionate declamation against^ the presence of the priest in the school, which issuinc^ from the dens of the secret societies, through the infidel pres? through the parbamentary tribune and the popular platform, has overspread all the countries of Europe. Now, have we not a right to grow indignant with the men who, through sheer anti-catholic bigotry, would force the government of this country to take, as the principle of their educational policy, the very watchword of those ruffianly infidels and revolutionists ? Will It be wLse m our rulers to present themselves to this Christian nation as the accomplices or the dupes of the enemies of religion and ot social order ? Will its avowed resolution of unbaptising the intelligence of the Catholic youth of Ireland, win for autho- rity that respect which is for society the very breath of life ^ -But we are told, forsooth, that the spirit of the age cries out against the priest, and that the statesman must be in harmony with his time. So reasoned the statesmen v/ho cncoura"-ed Vol- taire to attack the priest ; but there soon arose Rousseau, who i f 136 THE MIXKD SYSTEM i)F EDIXATION IN IRKI AM). proceeded to attack the state, and prepare the revolution which swept aU that could perish of the Church, and all the institutions ot civil society. And, to-day, that Europe is tossing uneasily under the fever of these same principles of '89, and that religion 18 toiling to calm the perilous unrest that fearfully presages dis- solution, 18 It not pitiable to find men in authority join, from their place of power, in the ribald shout against the ministers of religion; to the scandal of believers, to the loss of the cause of order, and to the dear gain of their own sworn enemies ! I'oi- be it remembered, the priest, although he disdains to wear tlie livery of tins or of that political party-for he is the servant, not of man, but of the living God— really wields the only conservative f(jrce that exists, because he alone will have the courage to rebuke excesses of power in those who govern, and lie alone can teach those who are governed how to obey for conscience sake ! The first principle on which the godless system is based asserts, that education is a function of tlie iState.*This is a false assertion. Ihe assumption of the educational office by the State constitutes in reality a grave Aiolation of the natural rights of parents ot their civil liberties, and of that religious equality which the law has sanctioned for all. ^^ature herself unequivo- cally designates the parent as the divinely ajjpoiuted educator of the child. The infant, incapable of thought or action of its own, is given, at first, absolutely into the hands of its parents, upon whose intelligence and love it instinctively depends for succour and maintenance. As infimcy ripens into childhood the same relations of absolute dependence continue to appear, lowards the parent the budding faculties of reason turn for training, as unerringly as towards the sun the opening petals of the flower, and their demands, be they ever so incessant, can never exhaust the treasure of unwearied love that is stored up in the parents heart. Who has so strong an interest in the task o± educating as the parent, who knows tliat on his child's training depends the honour and happiness of his family, and the support of his own hoary age ? And deep down in the recesses ot the human conscience is there not written in burning words a law, which even the savage tribes acknowledge in their wildest deserts ceaselessly intimating to the parent that it is his to lorm the miiia and heart of the child, and to the child that he is bound to listen with reverence to his father's voice ? Thus to secure the due discharge of the parental office of educating, 'the Author of JN^ature has put in motion the three most povverful motives tliat can sway the heart of man-love, interest, and duty -and yet we are told that the parent has no right to edu- cate ! .\ay, more, according to Bentham, the natural element THE MlXKl) SYSTKM OF KDUCATION IN IRELAND. 137 andl'r^f'if ^ '"' '^'' ^"^^'^^"^^ ^'^ ^'^'^^ •« built on this i.Vht ancl duty of tlio parent to provide for the education of the el ild To usurp theretore, the right to educate, is really to 'a blow at he very foundutio^n of society, ^hich s the fan L ^i\:^r "" " '"7"" '^ '^' ^'^-^^ "^^^'^ "f the parent & hat tyranny car be more hateful th.m that of a govern men t Mh.ch arrogaes .0 itself the power of moulding, accordh " to PhZ 1'^'^^>V"'";?'\"^ ^^I"^'^^' tb« ^--T thou,:i;t of anZn ? 1 haiao complacent y described the completeness of h^'s swav num vTi^ tT '{ '^yfpM ^^^'^ ^thisbeciT;;^ bet 11 ]?o ' ^ T^^' niterposeils authority, and stand oet\^tcn the parent s action and the soul of his child and for thc>se cases the law of the land niakos excoptio'^l proWsion chilr to IT! V ?■ ^^ "^ '?^^ ^'"^^ -^^^^''^ the education of your runt its morl 7r" '" '^°^%"^° "^"^^ '^^'P ^'^ ^^^^ ^^C rupt Its mouds Ihese cases of interference with the ri^^hts and tW tf'""''! education would mike them the rule !- w4c os^,-7''' "'"^' *^'"^ '^' ^-^l^' ""t as against a few w etches m whom preternatural malice has overpowered thl natural love of their children's innocence, but as aS the Sradm,> f: r*"" kingdom whose homes, evtn f TumWe a e admitted to be very slirines of faith and virtue !-and this not to rescue the chddren from what might injure thdr rclt ous belief but avowedly to withdraw thenf froni^he tea4 n^that aTound'tl • t'V'T^ ^" faith!- not to throw pttecfon aiound their frailty, but to expose them to the rude shocks o^ undisciplined passions, without the religious safe -uut which e^en the strongest virtue dare not foreg^o ! And! Lis no in vasion of the civil rights of the parent ? -Nor less grave is the violation of relio-ious eoualitv wbirb results from the nsurnnf,Vm K^.fho Sf,fp J tl? Ii^ '^t A r-tihr.);^ x"T 1" -^ ' 'i*- '■'rate ot tlie omce 01 educator. . A Catholic parent, by the very fact that he professes to be a '* ^' j • I 11 ,.; ,,-! 138 THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IX IRELAND. Catholic, publicly proclaims his conviction of two cardinal truths. He proclaims, firstly, that he feels it to be his con- scientious duty to obey the Catholic Church, as the infallible teacher of Christian truth ; and, secondly, that he is bound to form the inmds and hearts of his children in all things in accord- ance with that teaching, upon which he stakes the salvation of his own immortal soul. This twofold declaration is essentially contained in the pi-ofossion of the Catliolic faith ; and in this country, where religious equality prevails by law, each citizen has a perfect right to demand that he shall suffer no penalty bv reason_ of that profession. Now, is it not a gross violation of this right to say to him: We will not allow you to surround your children s education with those safeguards, which we admit you have a right to consider as indispensable for the due dis- charge of your parental obligations. We will force you to pay taxes to be expended for educational purposes, but we will pro- vide no other means of education for you except such as are re- pugnant to the religious convictions, in the professing of which the law declares you have a perfect right to the protection of the fetate. In spite of religious equality, you shall be placed in this dilemma : either sacrifice your conscience by surrendering the child of your love to influences which your religion con" demns, or sacrifice the educational advantages whicli 'the State provides, _ and thereby blast his career in this life. Is not this a violation of religious equality, is not this to impose penal f , for religious opinions? And vet into this inconsist- ency in in who profess to be the apostles of religious freedom are betrayed by the theory that education belongs of right to the State. " •= But although we deny that the State can usurp the office of educating without violating the rights of the parent, yet we admit it to be one of the highest functions of Government to promote the advancement of learning, and to provide for the enlightenment of its citizens. In discharging this duty, how- ever, it must always be content to take the place of assistant, and not aspire to that of principal. Its sole claim to interfere in education is to advance the public good by assisting parents to discharge with greater ease and efficiency the duty imposed upon them of educating their children according to 'their own conscientious comictions. From this spring several conse- quences of considerable importance— First : the State has an midoubted right ^to assure itself that the public money devoted to education shall be properly spent in providing such sound secular instruction as the peculiar circumstances of time, place, and persons seem to point out na necessary. Second ; thnf the State has no powers of compulsion in the matter of education, I THE MIXKU SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN' IRFI.AND. 139 unless in default of the parent or of the religious body to which the ehild belongs Third : that the State eaimot justly estrblish a monopoly in education, either directly by prohi&tW the TestowwTt tf t"'' '''". ''^". itsownfo^indtetly, bv ing of member! of variot^^^git' L^ TX^o W; STtrofr'^t' \ ?-k-|proselytism on the IrhaTd ai d on the other by abstammg from undermining all reli-^ion by spreading mdifPerentism or infidelity. And this briSme iof nd r m- ^V'%'^'^^ P''^''^'^'' ^y -1^-^ our adveri r" lofend the mixed system, viz., that religious training may and ought to be separated from secular instruction. " ^ und so.nrX\^ •^•' '^•^''!^ 'y.'^'''' is to afford united literary and t,epaiate religious instruction to children of all persuasions iemnt'shTb"^"^'', T^*^^ fundamental principled noal tempt shall be made to mterfere with the peculiar relio-ious tenets of any description of Christian pupils. Vhievei St thVt the 2" r "" •'' '^ ""^ ^ ^y'''"^' «- «^--ld hat; h'uSh pointed orhn'' ''''Tt^''' '^ ^''^''''^ ^^-^^^Id ^^'^^' -t once It the sy.tem ^erc designed for the use of a country answerino- the description given of the United States of America b a di tinguished Pnissian that it was a land with two thousand Lm?r a 2 /"^"--^'^"""^ ^" ' ^'^' ^' -«-ld, indeed till rema n a most pernicious system ; but its founders might point to this very mult=plicily of sects as a plausible apology for ?hir experiment. But to establish such a system in^rela^idrwhte and Mheie the uoii-Catholic minority, though extremely scantv in numbers, was bloated by centuries 'of ascx^ndency^^ a prl^ ceeding which to say the least, cannot be regardedl's demaru c"l by the necessity o± the case. How much money would have been saved to the country, how much religious dilcord abat^ how many sore controversies would have been prevented how nanj. tens of thousands better educated, if a sy^n o denoiu mixed .v'; """'!'• i''^^ Y'' ^^^"^ '- ^'^^^^^ instead otlo ntcessanly self-contradictmg, and which, under any circum- Its piomises. I say that the mixed system in a Catholic nation IS self-contradicting for its fundamental principle is at variaic with Its method. Its fundamental principle is that it shd in nowise interfere with the peculiar^eli^l tl^^tl^ of "n ! nfS \"' ^'^"'^^'"^ pupils, and, on the other \and,?tl method 18 to separate religious from secular instruction, hus •H ir H' THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IREI.AND. ^i canonising the principle of education without religion. I^ow the profession of this very principle constitutes a distinct inter- ference with the religious tenets of Catholics. For, surely it must be allowed that the Sovereign Pontiff and the entire body of bishops of the Catholic Church are authentic interpreters of the religious tenets of Catholics, and in the face of their autho- ritative statements no one can doubt that the exclusion of relio-ion from education is condemned by Catholic teaching. A system which, on the one hand, professes that it will not interfere with the peculiar religious doctrines of Catholics, and, on the other proceeds essentially on a principle condemned in express terms by the Catholic Church, is, surely, a self-coutradictin' 1 142 THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IKKLAND. tain necessary changes in the National System. Wlien this document was referred to the Commissioners, what attention did they pay to it? They simply declined all discussion on the pomts referred to therein, and, on the ground that it was "in- expedient and undesirable," they beg to be relieved from the necessity of making observations on the memorial of the Roman l^atholic prelates ! How different was the conduct of the Board with regard to Presbyterian remonstrances ! Mr. Carlisle the resident Commissioner, did not think it inexpedient or unde- sirable to open negotiations with the Synod of Ulster, nav he so far forgot what was due to his position that he, the resident i^ommissioner of a Board professing to care for educational interests to the exclusion of all religious feelings, consented to act or. the Presbyterian Committee, formed to defend, as against tHe iioard the special religious interests of that body. And the result of these scandalous negotiations is pithily described in the Eeport page o4 : "The course of these negotiations demands close attention In May, 1833, the Government rejected three propositions offered by the Presbyterians, because they con- sidered them to strike entirely at the principle of the system Upon this, the Synod ,f Ulster appointed a committee of ministers, including Mr. Carlisle, the resident Commissioner, and they changed the three propositions, without changing their principle mto four.' The four propositions, thoucrh iden? tical in principle with the three propositions which had been rejected m May, as 'striking entirely at the principle of the system, were accepted in August as in perfect accordance with the general principles on which the new system of education is tounded. Whatever may be the true key to these proceedings, justly qualiHed in the report as " inconsistent and contradic- tory, one conclusion may at least be safely drawn from their history, VIZ., the Commissioners who refused even to consider the temperate remonstrances of the Catholic bishops, did not hesitate to give a scandalously partial attention to the objections of the Presbyterians, Surely the bishops had good reasoi to ask Mr. Cardwell m their letter of March, 1860, "In what instance are our rights practically admitted? Have the heads of the Catholic Church been consulted about the appointment of Ca- tholic Commissioners and Inspectors who are supposed to be charged with Catholic interests ? Are they, in a word simnlv as bishops, practically admitted by Government or the Board to ilT^ Z^ ^^""^ '? *H^ ^°^*^?1 ?^ administration of the National bystem.P Now, I ask you, is it not the grossest contradiction to say : We demand the confidence of Catholics for thfl Natmr^nl System, on the ground that it will never interfere with "the peculiar tenets of the Catholic Church; and yet wo profess to THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IX IKELAXD. 143 build that system on the practical denial of two from amon-the fundamental doctrines of the Catholic religion ! We h^ar much of the mtolerant claims of the hierarchy, and of the Tes^ott control over human thought to secure whSh is suppoLdTo be the «^«, "If ter passion of what is called Ultramontane Prelates I ask did the bishops ever, even where, in the fulness of S sacerdotal power, they held undisputed sway-e4n amon' na ions who recognised their divine commission^ and the S ible authority of the Church, in whose name they spoke-cUd they ever put forward claims to control the morafand he material elements of education as sweeping as those arrogated wl'f^rw^t' ?*'"^ ^y '^' National" Board of Ireknd? What liberty has been spared by these men ? They cla m t^ control the liberty of reading, for they must compile or sanSion he books ; the liberty of teaching, for they must be allowed to tram the masers; the father's liberty of choosino- a place of education or his child, for they heap disabilities u?on ioulnl teachers; he liberty of religious profession, for th^j banish a signs of Christianity from the school; the very liberty if the sou to turn to God, for they make prayer a penal act^i And Board wCffl"- ;^%"^-\«f liberty f And dl this done tya Board which officially describes its o^vn function to be "to act and not to argue, ' and which excuses itself f r-- m attending 'o the statement ot Catholic grievances because "any attempt" It troversy conducted by them as a body, would demand u. im- possible Identity of opinion.''.-(Letter 'of Board to Sir Seol ^rey 11th April, 186G.) Is it possible to conceive of an exef! TLij^TTr ^'^^ ^^^ded and more despotic than that of a body which thus recuses to listen to the remonstrances of those whom its action chiefly concerns, and which, on Tts own .lowing, acts without arguing, because discussion ^ould revl" the discord necessarily prevailing in its own body. After tUs It IS easy t^o understand how Mr. Carlyle could have become the head and hand of such a Board ; but the knowledge does not oilreLd?^"^' """"" ''"^^'^'^ ^" '^' '^'''"^ '^ '^' Catholics But besides being self- contradicting, the mixed Question of education applied to Catholics must netssaril^faH iff ulfiL. Its promise of not interfering with their religious tenets^ feurvey for a moment the entire domain of human thought and especially such portions of it as constitute the material of higher ^ducation, and teU me if you can find therein a single proWncI ;;oTd-:?onhT^'"'" -"l^^^ "^^'^ ^^^-- *« -- "h: a.!.. a...... ot thculugy, ana thereby violate the principle of mliiZ'tr^l^"^"^ '""^ '^'"'^ ^° solemnly 'promiS to maintam. Theology, as such, must, of course, be altogether I I i-fc 144 THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. excluded and this, in itself, constitutes an interference with l^athohc doctrines. A« mcII niio-ht vou pretend than an astro- nomer, in his study of the planetary system, should take no account of the sun, as that a Catholic, from his study of the sciences, should exclude theolo-y, upon which, in his system they all absolutely depend. And how can you deal with history without speaking of that One Life towards which, with ever- unfolding purpose, the world's course has progressed from the beginning and which, for the last t^yo thousand years, has changed the face of the earth. And if you speak of Him, how wilJ you describe Him ? Unless you speak of Him adorino-ly as true God of true God, you must perforce either merely giye Jlim a place among Oriental masters who haye founded religions, or leaye open the questions as to what He was, as to what was his work on earth, what the nature of his Church and what its place in the world ? Now these are questions that compel an answer, and cannot be left open ; you must be with ±lim, or you arc against Him ; you must gather with Him or you scatter his glory to the winds. I say nothing of the dangers to taith contained in the physical sciences as they are handled in this materialistic age ; but, I ask, how can the Christian reli- gion be more effectually combated than by subverting the meta- physical truths which constitute the preamble to faith, and thereby rendering its demonstration impossible? The existence ot God, the spirituality and immortality of the soul, the free will ot man, the nature of rational certitude, the power and limits ot the reason, the principle of causation, all these are questions which it is not possible to ayoid, and of eAch one of tl-m the preyalent philosophy of the day has made a yehicle lor the conveyance of error or of doubt such as must slay the taith ot the unsuspecting student. This result may not be ap- parent at once, for the soul is not always conscious of the wounds she receiyes m this warfare ; but at length the day comes when in some hour of supreme temptation, the young Catholic, trained m this godless philosophy, finds, to his cost, that, like Sampson, he had been robbed of his strength as he slept in fancied secu- rity IN or is the case of primary education any better. I hav,, frequently heard it answered to those Avho insisted on the necessity of a religious education, that there was no need ot being always at prayer, and that religious exercises were not required lor the demonstration of a proposition in Euclid or the working of a sum in algebra. No doubt this is true. But 1 would_ ask in reply, if there be no need of being always at prayer, is there any need of excluding prayer, as if it were an Pll infection, from the sfjiool * und if no direct help towards the solution of geometrical or algebraical religious exercises minister THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IX IRELAND. 145 ^m ' f "/■ ^°''' ^°™'-' -'«»! s,: 7L*:.,'grthe but when thor?'is a qL,«„n „f ^ serTe „T'S,"°''T°"" ' months and years, the Ibsence of .eH|„rbe°Ll Xh"; (Z^ .s apparent also from this, fhat the inflt^e exSC?h: teacher over his disciples is morally irresistible rwl 1 ^ ■ smrl AT P.n.^,. ^c at • " i '^ " ^ '"'^I'l' protect tlie vouno- " ^ ^-io F;.,Si;t:Si- :^is"-:^jj;t mflaenoe ot the Church, and against any influenie «Sver o* countenance a character of restra ntVh it ' ' "' T'^ ? t' ..U ete „„.t represent feeling cLin^' ;S-frot dlt';,^,!""'' p.oiL'n rt "t^x^ rs^^^ts-'fiU'r '" «■'"'■- 111 the lonp: run fechng will fnr^P it, ,,.„„^-;, ^^^ ^^'^ter, and 11 146 THE MIXED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. more true is it of religious or irreligious feeling, which sways the soul with surpassing vehemence. To say, therefore, that the teacher will not have any feeling in religious matters, or that, having them, he will strictly repress all expression of them, is to claim that the laws of human nature have been sus- pended in favour of the mixed system of education. One of the chief glories of the mixed system is that it was to produce the most cordial feeling between pupils of different religions, whom it was to bind in perpetual amity ex opcre operato through what has been pleasantly called the new sacrament of juxta- position on the same school benches. It was to have been the rainbow appearing in the stormy sky of Ireland, blending in peace the many colours that reflect the religious discord which divides her sons. Has it done so ? Were the Presbyterians of the ]N"orth ever more rampantly fanatical than they are now, when they profess themselves so satisfied Avith the working of the system? Is there peace between them and the Catholic Church in this very matter of education, from which the mixed system was to banish disunion " for ever and a day ? " Its best admirers cannot say that it has brought peace to Ireland ; but we may all hope that it will not bring to us the sad fruits that it has brought elsewhere. What these fruits are let us learn from the bishops of the United States, assembled in their Plenary Synod of Baltimore, 1866 :—" Familiar intercourse with those of false religion, or of no religion ; the daily use of authors who assail Avith calumny and sarcasm our holy relio-ion, its practices, and even its saints : these gradually impair, in the minds of Catholic children, the vigour and influence of the true religion. Besides, the morals and examples of their fellow- scholars are generally so corrupt, and so great their licence in word and deed, that through continual contact with them the modesty and piety of our children, even of those who have been best trained at home, disappear like wax before the fire."' Since then, on the part of the sciences to be taught, on the part of _ the teachers themselves, and on the part of the companionship to which it exposes, the mixed system deals deadly blows at the faith and morals of Catholics; since the attempt to enforce such a system upon Ireland is a gross violation of the rights of parents and of the civil and religious liberties belonging to all the subjects of the king- dom ; since the system is in itself the direct creation of in- fidelity and the most powerful agent of revolution, are we not justified in demanding that it be removed from among us ? Are we not justified in declaring that, come what may, we will never rest satisfied as long as this unjust thing is in our midst ? As long as there shall remain a Catholic bishop or priest in Ireland THK CHUKCH AND CIVIJJSATION. 147 80 long shall the opposition to this evil system be sustained. As long as Catholic Ireland shall retain the lessons taught to her by centuries of persecution for her faith, so long shall she con- tinue to drive the godless system far from her, in the same spirit m which the high-souled maiden in the poem drove from her tJie sacrilegious wretch — " Whom her soul was hourly taught To loathe, as some foul fiend of sin, Some minister, whom Hell had sent To spread its blast, where'er he went, And fling, as o'er our earth he trod. His shadow betwixt man and God." THE CHURCH AN^D CIVILISATION. Ox the 8th day of October, 1670, the Cardinal Prefect of the bacred Congregation De Propaganda Fide submitted for the approbation of the Sovereign Pontiff the choice that had iust been made of Francis de Laval as the first Bisbop of Quebec On the 8th day of October, 1877, the Cardinal Prefect of the same Sacred Congregation is acclaimed Protector of a Catholic University in Quebec bearing the honoured name of Laval. Jtow different, however, is the Quebec that engaged the atten- tion of the Cardinal Prefect some two hundred years ao-o, from the Quebec that holds so large a place in the thought's of his distinguished successor in office. It is true that the natural features of the place have remained unaltered in their lines of beauty. Then, as to-day, the forests that clothe the mountains were ablaze with the gold and crimson of the autumn ; then, as now, the majestic river broadened out to mirror a sky clear and blue as the sky of Italy itself; then, as now, the frownin^ rock not yet an historic fortress, uplifted its front in stern contrast with the soft lines of wooded slope and yielding shore Avith which yonder island divides the rapid stream. All else how- ever, has undergone a change. Where, then, a handful of noble colonists found a precarious resting-place, now stands a noble citj^, the capital of a wide and fertile province, teeming with a happy pupuiution. Where, then, the savagery of Huron and Algonquin pressed close upon a feeble civilisation struggling to iJf i i M ^1 m t m ■ f i i , ; 148 THE (UURCH AND CIVIMSATIOX. root Itself in the uncongenial soil to which it had boon trans- planted from France, a University now rises, a JIafn- S^^ or^^aso inagniheent m its completeness tliat divine and human learning find in it a home not unworthy of their excellence Z Canada to Rome, the record was generally one of privations, and sufferings and heroic endurance. At present, tlie speed and eise with which science has endowed modern means of (.ommunlat on are tasked m he effort to chronicle the continual advaZe of peoine fai hfu to their God, loj-al to their sovereign, and blessed in the wel -ordered freedom of their institutions As truly as the abundance of the harvest is contained in the seed commit ed to earth in spring, so truly were the present splendours of your moral and material prosperity invohedh theac which on this day two hundred and sevc^i y^a s ao-o gave Its first bishop to Quebec. For that bishop can- id hi he^' in his ponsecrated hand the power which alone is able to cJeate JNmv, 1 ho d that a Catholic university, as beino- the nlaoe wherein faith and science, spiritual and intellectna culture meet m harmony, is at once the outcome and the hio-hest ex' pression of true civilisation, llio-bt fittino- is it thov<5nvr+i \ as a Cardinal Prefect of the Propagand^ftr^t tif the "^^^^^^^^^ tions of your social edifice, so a Cardinal Prefect of the Sa ganda should now assmne the office of protecting what so nobly OnZ. P rt'VT^V ^'^^' ^''^'s is it, that at was a Caidnal Prefect who first gave to Canada a place amon- the established churches of Christendom, so also a CardinrPrefeet ihl^\r '" ^'''f'' ^''\'-'^^^y in the place of honour Mhich tlie supreme authorities in the Church and in the StZ have accorded to it among tlie chartered seats of leai^i norin the repubhc of let ers. And it is especially fitting tlu-.t tlu^ ce ^^ mony which this evening brings the Universit^faeo to face s^ to speak, witli is protector, should be witnessed not only by 'the llu nous . rchbishop who so worthily fills the tin-one first til ed by Ue Lava , bu also by the venerable bishops of the pnn-in 'e as representing the sixty; episcopal sees whicl. during teom's^^ of Uo cen unes, iK-ne been formed out of the .fnglo see of Quebec, making this mice solitary diocese to become tie f^yful mother of children. The same act of Pontifical authoHt^ h.t gave to tlie University its distinguished protector, o^ to t hkewise these prelates to be its guardians in thing pe tainin to faith and morals ; and well may the Universfty^ev t o"t only on account of the honour that has thus been b^ 0^ upon It, but also m the thought of the solid advaXes t^ eh that honour brmgs in its train. ^^^^^^^ ^\ nicli I THE CHURCH AND CIVILISATION. 149 To inspire his hearers with confidence amid the perils of their mortal pilgrimage, St. Bernard bade them consider the lofty attributes of the heavenly spirits whom God has appointed to be their protectors. " Why," he asks, " why should we fear? Our protectors are faithful, they are prudent, they are strong : Fi- delcs .sunt, jmulentes sunt, potentes sunt. Quid erqo trepulmms ?" It would seem to be the lot of Catholic Universities beyond other institutions to have to pass through many tribulations. Of them more than of others, it is true that tliey must sow in tears what they are to reap in joy. Witness the Catholic Universities of Jrunce, which after half a century of struggle, are even now barely allowed to lift up their head in the land of St. Louis. Witness the Catholic University of ray native land, which after more than twenty-five years of constant effort and of painful sacrifice has recently seen the cup of hope once again dashed from Its lips. And tliis University of Laval, has it too not ex- perienced Its trials? has its path always been strewn with flowers? —have there been no dangers to beset its footsteps ? But the cere- mony of this evening speaks to its heart words of encouragement as sweet and tender as the utterances of St. Bernard's gentle \'ciice. Consider, it seems to say, consider Avhat manner of power this IS, which God has given to be your protector. Behold, it is faithful. It IS prudent, it is strong. Why, then, should you be anxious ? Why should you be afraid ? And truly it is a faithful power. Among the titles given in Holy Writ to our Saviour there is one, the very mention of which m the midst of the world's hollowness falls upon the ear like a strain of heavenly melody. It is the title which describes Him as the Faithful Witness to the truth. As He has given to his Church his Truth, so has He given to it his faithful heart. And as Rome possesses in St. Peter's chair the seat of his truth, so likewise she possesses, through the same, his prerogative of faith- fulness. What afllicted Church ever trusted to Rome and was disappointed ? None ; but yours least of all. For two hundred years and more j'oiir race has borne here the burden and the heat of the day. Many and sore have been your trials, and pain- ful your sufferings : tell me even of one in which you or vour fathers found Rome indifferent to your anguish ? Besides, it is a prudent power. Even in man's best estate, our thoughts are timid and our foresight uncertain : Cogitntioncs mor- talmm ttmuhr, et incertce proridcntm eomm (Sap. 9, 14). But, in the present time, when truths have been diminished among the children of men, it behoves us to walk more circumspectly than ever, for truly the days are evil. Now, the wicked are stronger in their wickedness than before, and the weak more feeble in their weakness. Great and lofty natures are rare, the type of 150 THE CmRCII AND CIVILISATION. I I i{li' ^ I ii I to eurthon vessel, iml w '""/""•"-"re of necessity entrusted treasure ho^MlXniZTt T'^W," ""*'* *■; '"^ *" are told bv tl,e Ilofv (fw ^1^ ■ "} °'i"""™ V<"">'0" '■ We forsileuce"- but in tLn^r 't ?•'? " ^T" *°"' "1^°"'' '""• " ^me tor whom God has asTiiVd ™ ? T' ™ h «" ?"• '° ""= 1'"'™" in the entire field mrl^o^n ^ "''f ' ^'' ^'^^^^^ ^^^^^o" takes power extendpd fn -.-^ 1 to ^"" ^hus m tlie protectino- "rti?b;aat1on but Tl ^ "^T"' ^^'" *^" ^^^^ ^^^ «lo^« a helper able aid ' ^' ' ^'^^'' ^^^^^^ P^^^^^^^ i« - grace in soasZ nr^tdt'^nlt^^^^^^ «nd prudent power is also strong. It is told, between her nJ,^ *!,. i ■ ? . ^"J' connection, we are only' by roMinfthTlt'er }^IT^ ^"'1 ™." ^ •""to"'™"! The iron circle ?feeclSi«l ' I, ?," '^"^ "' ""-^r'-^' ••""' *"""*• permit of independent re e,t/ ° "• '" ''"' "«"^ """l n»™>>' '<> out these seiereturtTeXtennd' dL^^Th^ "" V""'" sh„rtS?^the CathofeSrchV" "T."'' '''^"y *"■• P™"*' '» THE CHURCH AND CIVILISATION. 151 The masters of modem science may be divided into two schools, perhaps equally brilliant in scientific attainments, but strikingly dissimilar in their method of applying their knowledge. For example, the Newtons and the Secchis are certainly not less distinguished in discovery than the Comtes and the Tyndals, and yet how widely different is the general spirit of their respective teaching. The former as well a.s the latter devote themselves to the study of the phenomena of the physical world, and seek by patient and skilful research to establish the course of Nature's laws ; but at this point their methods diverge. The former do not refuse to take account of the existence of sources of know- ledge other than the science which is their own proper pursuit. They are willing to admit that outside the physical order with which they occupy themselves, and independent of it, there exist other orders of metai^hysical, moral, and theological truth which cannot be ignored. The latter, on the contrary, practically canonise physical science as the sole criterion of truths and single source of human knowledge, and proceed to fashion, exclusively from its data, a philosophy and a cosmogony of their own. Now, I ask, which of these methods affords the better evidence of a strong scientific spirit ? Is not the whole attitude of tlie latter towards the circle of human knowledge narrow, arrogant, and fanatical, while that of the former is broad, liberal, and catholic? It is the oihce of physical science to establish facts, not to construct theories. The fabric of the material universe has, in- deed, many and marvellous secrets to unfold concerning itself. In the phenomena it presents, the man of science may surely read the histor}^ of the stupendous changes wrought, and to be wrought, in its condition by mighty cosmical forces ; but there is one secret concerning which, by the very necessity of the case, these phenomena can furnish no information. They are silent and must forever be silent as to the origin of matter.'^ It is true that, from the consideration of visible creation, the right mind straightway ascends to the Creator ; but this is an argument of an order other than the physical, and, as such, it is contemptu- ously rejected by modern science. And yet, this same modern science insists upon extorting from the physical phenomena around us, and from facts, however rightly* they have been established, the one secret these facts can never reveal. They declare the verdict of science to be that matter is eternal. It is a patent fact that the school of science which follows the latter of the methods described above, has sooner or later everywhere ended in materialism. In Germany, in France, in Italy, and in England its leaders have become the prophets and apostles of materialistic doctrines. Now, if we inquire into the cause of this painful and scandalous result, we sua 1 find it to lie in the 152 THE fflURCH AND CIVILISATION. I I Vi \u IJI sCtl'^ufTeSrieUff' ™r'^ '»°™'"-' take, its singk order of Cfc T^'l *"' ""^"•'^ "'»to but a its ineradicable fa th in a wor 1 to .. ' ^^'""'TT .^^''' ^'^'^' '^"^ down for ivcr at its bi IrKn^ 'Y^.^P^"^^^ love .shall be cast blaspbem/ t be^inf in e Ill'd tn "• '^-'Y^ "^'^'^^"^ ^'^ ^^« spiritual order is to denv Gr^d • n!^ l ,/''''°^"^^o"; ^o deny the inevitably develops idSc.^ '.1 '''^3'" ^^^'^ ^^^^^^^ Gf^d thought to a Ce f incionn Z "^^''Y^^'^'^' ^vluch degrades levefof a bru^e Andt thi, tl™^"-J' '''^ f '^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^« ^he scientific spSl whth we to told'^ '' fj^' ^^^""^^^ «* ^^« science from reliXn ? T. it 1 ' ^^'^ "^ *^^ emancipation of security and no^S^nU f t -^^^^^^^ Ttf ''"^ ^^^" ^^"^ twofold order of truth^uman aTdXit U thaTt^T '' ' scienl' T t pJlTs^n't SiT \^ -f ^/^ T^ ^^^'^ ^'^^'^^ty from are littered wh.wm^S' • "t ^^^'^^ ^^''"^ "^ "^^'^el science consistent. In the Vutic-m S i i^^ tself harmonious and exists a twofold onWrfL,;'^ '^'; ^^^-y^ '^'^^^^ that there natural reasl thc^o b^t'dhS^^ t^ ^''^ Tr 'l '-^ that the one can contrndint Vi J i , ?^"''^'^ ^^ ^^^^i^^^e are from Gol She h Id^ Lt on^ ^ ^°f '^' ^^"'^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^ and i„™de ,L'p;„:r oi' S;tr]?:t'V.vr£iis;;t III THE CHUHCU AND CIVILISATION. 153 claims that each of the human sciences in its sphere may make use of its own principles and follow its own method : and this she holds to be among the just liberties of science. She forbids not research however deep ; she puts no limit to the range of experiment; she refuses to recognise no fact. And lest you should be discoiicerted as j^ou pursue your studies by the appear- ance of a seeming contradiction between so-called scientific dis- coveries and the teachings of Faith, she explains that this false appearance of contradiction is mainly due either to the dogmas of Faith not having been sufficiently understood and expounded according to the mind of the Church, or to the fact that what is a mere hypothesis or what resti un insufficient proof has been rashly accepted as the t-uth. These are the principles that create and foster, rather than weaken, the scientific spirit, and these are the principles upon which a Catholic University rests. It IS because these principles have been unhappily abandoned in so many of the modern schools of science that the Catholic Chu. Ai seeks to draw off her children from the dangerous sources that arc opened to them in infidel colleges, and to gather them into universities where religion shall have its due part in their education. Ac(!ording to the mind of the Church, science as cultivated in a Catholic University should be as large and wide and deep and thorough as in the most favoured and illustrious seats of learning ; but she can never forget that not by physical science alone does man's soul Jive, but by every w^ord that Cometh from the mouth of God. In placing your studies under the protection of Rome you are therefore securing for them a perpetual soui'ce of strengtli. Thus clun-isluHl, guided, and invigorated bv a protecting power at once faitlsful, prudent, and strong, the Catholic University of Laval shall fiouiisl) apace. Under the happy infhience of that power, all lliat is profound in knowledge, all "that is graceful in literature, wliatever there is of beautiful or of true shall be hers, securely, and without taint of error. And nobler even than the highest culture of their intellects shall bo the culture she will impart to the hearts of her children, teaching them to find in the fear of the Lord the beginning of wisdom, and its fulness in Him in whom alone are hidden all the treasures of knowledg-e. If 154 REPLY TO AN ADDRESS. , ;, I'tt 1 I I ' I i'l •' H M REPLY TO A^ ADDRESS.-SEMINARY OF OUR LADY OF AJYGELS, NIAGARA FALLS exorcise the exalted office you Mish to if "° '* ^'^"'^^ *" youi. decision M«i I t hi ,k T°L l^'.r'"';"'^' '° B»'"'^V Peter's supremo j^Z, bS° , "cm' 14;\w„t,°,'?'^ "'t^'' mMmmm J-i, tnen, every representative ni Pino TV ^ i • , where vot'glir are ft^m d'l! tl-^iulh'X ?ho1"^;f "^ by an Vm..l % seminary, in the case of which Tius IX ccntune= of existence embrace tlie lowliness of the Lidian mis! KEPLT TO AN ADDRESS. 155 sion and the glory like that of the Church of France in its best estate, passes from the territory of the mighty sovereign of Eng- land to one of the States of this wonderful Eepublic, along yon wooded heights that within this century ran with the blood of brave men spilled in fight. And what is he come to do ? He comes for a purpose of peace, and not unworthy of Eome, that he may give to virtue and to learning their due rewards, There is no portion of the field of science which the Catholic Church would withdraw from cultivation by her children. The great Chancellor of England reduced all the objects of knowledge under three heads : God, nature, man. It is one of the charac- teristic defects of our time that one or other of these three is made the exclusive jDursuit of scholars, to the general detriment of learning. The undue preference shown for the physical sciences at the expense of m ^ntal and moral philosophy and of theology, but too often end& n a dreary materialism and in the denial of the spiritual and supernatural orders. The Catholic Church has never approved of this unnatural and unscientific sundering between the various parts of man's intellectual king- dom. She bids her children search deeply and fearlessly into the secrets of nature ; she bids them shrink not from any dis- covery of physical laws, nor dread to acknowledge any fact that has been tested and proved by research. But she bids them at the same time remember that the material creature is but a small portion of tlic universe, that there is a spiritual and a moral world to which the material is ordered, and that above all worlds there is God, the ever-living source whence Truth proceeds. Hence to-day she has prepared rewards not merely for pro- ficiency in physical, mathematical, and classical science, but also for success in metaphysical and ethical studies, and, above all, for the knowledge of the truth that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. I rejoice that it has fallen to my lot to take part in the distribu- tion of these rewards, and I pray that the Seminary of St. Mary of the Angels may grow daily in prosperity, and that every blessing may attend the students it so successfully trains for their country and for God. I Hi 156 REPLY TO THE LAITY OF BUFFALO. REPLY TO THE ADDRESS OF THE LAITY OF BUFFALO. T THANK you very sincerely for the warm welcome you have given me this evening. I know I am indebted for the greater portion oi the honour you have been pleased to show me to the «calted otticc which, by the sovereign command of the Holy hathev, I exercise in the neighbouring dominion of Canada. you are well aware that I am here this evening, not as one of tJae crowd of visitors whom the fame of your splendid city every year attracts to the shores of Lake Erie; but your illustrious bishop and you have wished to prove that the man whose privi- lege it^is to represent Pius IX., no matter in what country, can never be a stranger to you, but rather your most honoured guest. 1 bless (rod that this deep reverence for the Holy See prevails so strongly m the Catholic youth of this great Republic. The Homage it suggests is no common homage. As the gladiators entered the amphitheatre \vhere they were to be butchered to make a Roman holiday, they were wont to salute the cruol CoDsar who bade them die with the exclamation : Morifin-l te sahdanf Caesar ! the dying hail thee ! What more fitting tribute to the most deadly tyranny that had ever cursed the earth than this cry coming froni the jaws of death! And what more fitting tribute to the chair of Peter, established by Christ to be the biilwark of the liberty of our consciences, than the acclama- tion ot a generous youth, rich in the promise of life, and bearing m their hearts the hopes of the future of America ! There wa^ a day when the sovereigns of kingdoms claimed to protect the Church, of _ which they styled themselves the First-born Sons. ^nv^'^T "' •''''' P^«"^est «^state did they offer to the Spouse ot Lhrist service as chivalrous, as pure, or as powerful as that contained in the love for the Holy See which dwells in the young men of anation such as this, where Faith is free to ally Itself with the highest enlightenment and the noblest aims. ' home part, however, of the honour you have paid me to-nio-ht has been suggested by another motive. You have wishccf to T^TiV'!" "''' m?^ ''"'y ^^^ delegate of Pius IX., but also the Irish Eishop. The diocese that God has given me to govern is styled from its position the Heart of Ireland; and, believe me, i.i that great heart all Ireland's - hildren have a place, whether they are here beyond the ocean, or still nestling in the old home. - — ug -I. !.!Tm lo a lovinj; muthcr aho is also a wise one. fehe knows that by the disposition of Providence and by nature's REPLY TO THE UNIVERSITY OF LAVAL. 157 sacred laws the children who have gone out from her have con- tracted new ties and are bound by new associations in their adopted country ; and far from being jealous of the new love they have formed, she gives to it her blessing and her sjnnpathy. But she is jealous about two things : one, lest you should ever forget the lessons of faith you learned at her knee ; the other, lest in your loyalty to America you should altogether cease to cherish affection for herself. You have honoured me as repre- senting here this evening Pius IX., and Ireland ; allow me, in tui-n, to consider myself your representative to them. To Pius IX. I will speak of your affection to his sacred person, and to the holy Catholic Church. To Ireland I will speak of your un- dying love of the green isle which gave your fathers birth. What nobler office can a Catholic Bishop desire than this, which constitutes him a link of union between Rome, Ireland, and America ? REPLY TO THE ADDRESS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF LAVAL. I RECEIVE with great pleasure the address in which the Catholic University of Laval welcome? to its halls the delegate of the Apostolic See. The history of the great ancient universities of Europe shows that they arc indebted for their origin and growth to the foster- ing care of the Roman Pontiffs. Unhappily, however, many, if not all of them, have departed from the plan on which they wore first established, and, following the irreligious tendencies of the age, have abandoned the Christian traditions of the schools that created European civilisation. The results of this change have been most injurious to the interests of learning, of morality, and, consequently, to the best interests of society at large. Through it the domain of science has been arbitrarily cur- tailed. The science of Theology, which treats of God, and the science of Philosophy, which deals with tlio intellectual and ethical sides of man's nature, haAo been altogether expelled from the Academy, or at best degraded from tlieir high estate to a place of inferiority, while the purely material sciences have been unduly exalted as the sole object worthy of attention. Or, if motaphj'^sical studies have been, in some instances, retained, they ' il 158 Ri:i'I,Y TO THE UNIVERSITY OF LAVAL. I' I I S-lii ire H L imi- ': t seem to have been retained for the purpose of sapping the foun- dations of Christianity by destroying those truths of the natural order which constitute what St. Thomas calls the Preambles to Faith, and without which a rational demonstration of the doc- trines and facts of Revelation becomes impossible. From this to the subversion of the moral order there is but a single step. It has been well said that the speculative theories of one generation become the ethics of the second, and the popu- lar practice of the third. Hence it is that the corruption of the universities affects the entire body of society. Hence, too, the pernicious idea now so prevalent that science and faitli' are antagonistic, and that eminence in the various professions open to educated men is incompatible with sincere devotion to re- ligion. To remedy this evil it was necessary to return to the old type of the university and to reconstruct places of general study on the large and free plan conceived by the Church. This nine- teenth century has beheld with surprise splendid imiversities start into being at the bidding of the Roman Pontiff wherever liberty of education was permitted to exist. And with still greater surprise it has seen their halls thronged by the generous youth of the rising generation. It shall ever be ranked among the imperishable glories of Catholic Canada that she has created a Catholic University worthy of the name, in which the fulness of religious truth shall ever be happily united with the unfettered pursuit of knowledge. I cannot _ refrain from expressing here my admiration of the ecclesiastical corporation of the Seminary of Quebec, which, in- stead of employing its resources in securing for its members the luxuries of a life of learned ease, such as that which has ren- dered some of the older universities a byword among scholars, has expended them in erecting, endowing, and equipping, with uU its necessary appliances, a seat of learning that would do honour to a king's munificence. With the blessing of the Sovereign Pontiff, under the guid- ance and loving care of the illustrious Episcopate of this Pro- vince, with the contidonce and support of this Catholic popula- tion, the University of Laval shall undoubtedly become a source of true blessing to Canada and to the Church of North America. Already many colleges and seminaries have been affiliated to it, to file great benefit of education, and the circle of its affiliates will become larger from year to year. I shall account it an ho-iour and a happiness to be allowed to serve its interests, and I pray that it may abound in every good and perfect gift that Cometh down from the Father of Light. REPLY TO ADDRESS OF WELCOME. 159 REPLY TO ADDRESS OF WELCOME, BROOKLYN, U. S. I RECEIVE with much pleasure this address in which you desire as students of All Hallows College to welcome your former pro- fessor, as priests of Irish origin to do honour to the Bishop of an Irish see, and, as devoted Catholics, to reverence the repre- sentative of the Sovereign Pontiff in the dominion of Canada. Ihe work of All Hallows in your regard may fittingly be de- scribed in the words employed by St. Eucherius in praise of the island sanctuary of Lerins, in which many of the apostolic men ot the htth century, and among them our own St. Patrick, were formed to virtue and to learning : Quos sumpit filios, efficit patres. That College received you as its children, and trained you to be spiritual fathers of men's souls. I account myself singularly fortunate in that after having known you in your years of study, after having been permitted to take some share m your ecclesiastical education, I now enjoy an opportunity of witnessmg for myself the fruits of your missionary work in this great country. I have often heard it said, by men of experience that the success with which God blesses a priest's ministry is proportionate to the love with which the priest himself cherishes the Alma JIafcr where, under the influences of the sweet but firm discipline of the Catholic Church, his soul has been prepared for the grace of Holy Orders. I am not surprised, therefore at seeing that the fruits of your labours in the sacred niinistrv are under God's blessing, so large, so varied, and so rich. When I recall to mmd the fervour with wliich, in those early days you laid deep-set in humility and obedience and prayerful industrv the foundation of your ecclesiastical life, I thank the Eternal High Priest that He has been pleased to build thereon so fair a superstructure of priestly virtue and of priestly merits. Like the patriarch of old, in the hour of his unhoped-for meetino- with the son of his love, whom God had made great in a foreio-n laud I feel to-day a double joy. Not only do I look once mo"re upon the face ot friends to wliom I had said good-bye, as I tliou4t for ever, but I behold with my own eyes the spiritual increase their zeal has given to the holy Catholic Church. " And he n'i i!'}'\ "'*''• ^ ''"^ '^""^ deprived of seeing thee; moreover, God hath shown me thy seed. JSfon sum fmudatm mpectti fuo ■ umipcr ofitendtt milu Bominus mnoi timm " (Gen. xlviii IV As bishop of an Irish see, I delight to hear the lovino- words your lips have uttered in praise of the mother Church'of our 160 KEPLY TO ADDRKSS OF \VEIX'OME. f 1 beloved native land. The see of Ardagli and Clonmacnolse is rich indeed in the splendid inheritance that has come down to it from the ages. To it belong the faith and merits of a long line of sainted bishops, reaching back in unbroken succession to St. Mel, Avho received t] j episcopal unction from the hand of St. Patrick. To it belong, too, the sanctity and learning of a second lino of saints, beginning in Clonmacnoise with that St. Kiaran whom Alcuin styled " the honour of the Irish race." However unworthy the present occupant of that venerable see may be, he feels that the glories of those in whose place he stands are too brilliant to be obscured by his demerits. And therefore I think that without presumption I may thank you for what you have said in praise of the diocese which God has given me to rule, and for the loving admiration with which you linger upon the services rendered by Irish bishops to religion and civilisation. And allow me to remind you that to you also there comes down from these olden times an inheritance peculiarly your own. The bishops who went out from Ireland to evangelise the nations which now constitute the Western Christendom in the old world did not go forth to their holy task alone, ^yitk them went bands of venerable priests, of wliom St. Bernard says that thev passed across Europe like the following waves of the sea. I have read in a Norseman's chronicle, written at the close of the tenth century, how the son of one of the noblest among the writer's contemporaries was driven by stress of weather to lands bevond the western sea, and there, in a district called Greater Ireland, received the sacrament of baptism at the hands of an Irish priest. I will not stay to discuss the historical value of this document, which would go to show that in the far-oiT past men of vour race w-re your predecessors in the work of preaching the Gospel m tuis portion of the American continent. Whether in the past there existed in this country a Christian Ireland may — najs m the nature of things must— be mere matter of coniec- ture. But there is no doubt that in our day a Christian Ireland among the pastors of which you hold no ni considerable place' does exist in North America. And from what I have seen of this great nation, in which so many millions of the Irish race have found a home and a prosperity that have been denied to them ill the land of their birth, I think I may congratulate you that your lot has been cast in this portion of God's vineyard 111 the American people I reverence the natural and social virtues that indicate the good, and very good heart, which according to Holy Scripture, disposes men to hear God's w^ord and to keep it, and keeping it, to briny- forth fruit in nntionce As delegate of the Holy See in the dominion of 'Canada, I thank you for your professions of attachment to St. Peter's Chair ♦ i ADDllESS DELIVERED IN OMAHA. 161 The welfare alike of individuals and of society depends on re- ligion and we know that the Holy See is the centre of unity and the divinely appointed seal of that fullest ecclesiasticai authority without which religion cannot survive amid the shock ot human passions and the vicissitudes of the world's history. Ihe dignity and independence of the Holy See are the supreme religious necessity of the age. for they are the only safeguard of the liberty of men's consciences. Without the Papacy religion becomes either a political engine, a mere human opinion, or a vague unstable sentiment. It shall be my pleasing duty to lay ut th^ feet oi Pius I\. this expression of your attachment, and to assure him that the Catholics of America, sprung as they are irom many and various nations, are thoroughly united in love of rehgioii and of their country, and that their devotion to the Holy See while retaining all the strength of an ancient faith. IS marked in addition by the freshness, energy, and thoroughness that are characteristic of the American nation ♦ I ADDRESS DELIVEKED IN OMAHA. When brothers meet together in a foreign land the first word that rises unbidden to their lips is the name of their mother And if among them there be one whose privilege it is to have looked ates of them all upon that mother's face, and o have been called o devote his life more unreservedly than the rest lo that mother s service, he is sure to be questioned with all the eagerness of love concerning her welfare and the state in which he left her. You and I are here this evening, for the first time face to face, and yet we meet as brothers, for we are all children ? WWW ' ^°ly Catliol c Church. And since we are brothers I ieel that vour hear s mterrogate mine, asking from me how fares It with the mother of our souls .^ The more so becausi you have heard that powerful enemies have arisen against her and that vio ent hands have been laid upon her, and her cries and lamentations in her distress have reached your ears Per- meTs thJlt ^""'^ ^V^ r'^y ^^^1^' y- f-- wouTd cry to me as the Idumeans cried to the prophet out of Seir • " Watch- ThSt""^'' ?^ /^t "^^^-^' = ^-^->^«>an, what of the ZtghV rhmk you that the dark night of persecution that has come down upon the Catholic Church will last over long Can >^u 12 w 162 ADDRESS DELIVERED OMAHA. discern nny sign of peace appearing as yet amid the storm ?" To this questioning I would, in words like those employed by the prophet, yet coming from one who speaks with more than a prophet's authority, say, " The morning cometh, also the night" (Isai. xxi. 11). Without doubt, Christendom is passing at present through a crisis dark and drear as the night. " We are dis- mayed," says Leo XIII., in his noble allocution of 28th March, " we are dismayed by the most sad condition to which has. been reduced almost everywhere, not merely the civil society of the world, but also the Catholic Church, and especially this Apos- tolic See." IJut though they may be dismayed, Catholics are not to be discouraged at the gloomy prospect before them. Although the night is there, the morning cometh, and already the first gracious harbingers of the dawn may be seen in the brightening sky. Hope is the life of Christian prayer, and oui" Holy Father bids us join our prayers with ^is to " that God who is rich in mercy, that lie may always assist us by his kindly grace, guide towards good our counsels and acts, render happy the years of his Pontificate, and finally subduing the storms and calming the angry billows, conduct the bark of Peter to its wishcd-for haven of tranquillity and peace." It is not necessary for me to remind j'ou that the Catholic's confidence in the inde- structibility of the Church is not based on any trust in hmnan power however mighty, but on the teachings of faith. On the one hand we have been forewarned that in this world the Church is never to enjoy absolute repose from the persecution of men. " If," says Christ, " they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you" (John, xv. 20), and " in the world you shall have distress ; but have confidence, I have OA^ercome the world " (John, XAi. 33) ; and on the other hand we are assured that " the gates of hell shall not prevail against the Church," and that Christ Himself will be with her " all days, even to the consummation of the world." It is sweet and consoling to mark in the course of history the working of this law, which in the Church has wed together Aveakness and strength in a union so wonderful that, like the apostle, Avhen she is weak then she is most strong. And it is specially sweet and specially consol- ing in the very crisis of a persecution such as that which now weighs her down, to contemplate the tokens of unexpected strength she exhibits at the moment in which, humanly speak- ing, her strength would seem to have departed from her. To some of these tokens of this supernatural strength in weakness I would invite your attention this evening. And, first of all, it is impossible not to be struck with the favourable position the Catholic Church 1 4ds to- day in the v/orld of modern thought, notwithstanding the attacks to which she has long been exposed, I % i I f'tii I ADDRKSS DELIVERED IN' OMAHA. 163 f both from religious bnrlios outside her oAvn pale, and from the schools of scientific unbelief. As far as religious bodies not l^athoii, are concerned, tliey may for our present purpose bo conveniently distributed into three classes : first, established or national churches ; second, churches not establislied, and retain- ing some fragments, more or less (considerable of Catholic doc- trine, while rejecting the rest; and third, churches which con- sider religion to be a matter of sentiment or emotion rather than ot precise or definite doctrine. It was h-oni the side of established or national cluirclies that the Catholic Church for a long tinio, incurred the greatest dangers and sulfered the greatest evils. Ill tlicni were embodied tlie principles of the so-called Ketormation oi the sixteenth century, which, as it was itself chiefly due to political rather than to religious causes, so had tor Its iruit political rather tlian religious results. .Vccordinj? to tlie Catholic conception, the Church was an universal world- wide society, free from the trammels of the State, and in its own sphere independent of all control not strictly ecclesiastical. According to the new doctrines, the Church in eacli country was the slave of the civil power— " r/^V^.v r-s/ yyv//o, i//n,.s cf rolioio " bor many decades of years the national cluirches established bv the Mate lorded it over tlie persecuted Catholic Church But tune has at length wrought a remarkable change. The national (liurches of the day have become, all of them, merely political institutions, without life or influence on the souls of nieii while some of them have sunk to the lowest depths of moral and social degradation, like the llussian Church, and others, like the Anglican, have become nests of foulest simony, tlirou>d two were found in which tlie clergy proved false to the teachings of the Church, by accepting an uncanohical elec- tion, lieiore this sacerdotal firmness the mighty Kulturkampf ■ ADDRESS DELIVERED IN OMAHA. 16» tself has failed. And . . Catholics alone, but all who profess the Christian religion, have reason to admire the strength of Catholic unity as exhibited in the Catholic priesthood; for the enemy that has been vanquished by it is the sworn foe not only of the Catholic Church, but of all churches professing the Chris- tian religion. This is candidly acknowledged by a recent Ger- man writer, Hartmann, in his work on " The Eeligion of the Future. " " The true meaning of this struggle "—he is speaking of the persecution of the Church in Prussia—" is the answer to the following question : " Will mankind, as it is to-day, assign the first place to the next life or to the present life ; to the spiritual or to the temporal ; to eternity or to the things of this world ? Which of these interests must prevail— thosr of Chris- tianity or those of civilisation ? We shall now be in a position to measure how much of true Christian spirit r( mains in the Protestant sects by observing what degree of resistahco Protes- tantism will offer to the State, and how far it will consider the interests^ of Christianity identified with th.se of Catholicism. Should the Ultramontanes win, their victory will involve victory also for the evangelical orthodox Protestants ; bu^, on the other hand, the triumph of the State over Catholicism would scatter their pigmy hosts as a pufp scatters the dust on an old book." Since then the most terrible persecution that has been unchained for centuries against the Christian religion has been guided by the keen instincts of hatred to deliver its most furious blow's against the Church's armour in the place ivherc the two orders of her clergy meet in union ; and since, with a firm, constant, unyielding spirit, the priesthood of the Catholic Church remains to-day more_ than ever steadfast in due an 1 canonical accord with the Episcopate, we have reason surely to bless the Lord God of Sabaoth for the strength He Las herein bestowed upon his Church. It is not necessary that I should dwell here at any length upon the union that binds the members of the Episcopate ^to- gether, and with the Sovereign I»ontif' All that could be said to describe the most perfect form of ecclesiastical unity is summed up in tht mention of the rosu; s of the Vatican Corncil. The union whicl. at the present ': ^- prevails between the entire episcopate of the Catholic Ch- r .nd the Sovereigxi PontifF is absolutely without a fl.iw. Thtre is not a single member of a hierarchy that girdles the whole earth, and counts in its mem- bers men, leaders in the world ^^ bought and of action in a hundred difeerent countr-^es, bul teaches his flock to-day, as the very word of divine truth, each and every definition issued from the mystic assembly of the Church's latest Council. There is not one of that illustriou? throng who does not venerate the 170 ADDRESS DELIVERED IN OMAHA. 4 •'' ii ,1' If f Roma a Pontiff as the infallible teacher of Christians, and as the suprerie ruler of the entire Christian Church. From a thousand episcopal thrones in the old world and the new, from the Oriental Churches in the mystic East, from the great European centres of modern civilisation, from the bustling and prosperous cities of this American Republic, from the islands of the sea there rises up as one voice the same cry of greeting and of hom- age to the newly- elected Pontiff. As St. Bernard asked, con- cerning the Pope of his day, they ask Leo XIII., " Who art thoui^" and then they themselves, speaking for their flocks, reply with one accent, " Thou art the Great Priest ; the Sove- reign Pontiff, the Prince of Bishops, the heir of the apostles ; thou art Abel, in primacy ; in government, Noe ; in patriarchate, Abraham ; in order, Melchisedech ; in judgment, Samuel ; in power, Peter; in unction, Christ" (De Cons. 1, 2). And from the height of his pontifical throne, Leo answers with Gregory and with Pius, " My honour is the solid strength of my breth- ren. Then am I duly honoured, when to each and every one of you his due honour is not denied" (St. Greg. ep. ad eulog. Alex.) How surpassingly beautiful is this vision of perfect unity in the midst of the world's dissensions and strifes ! Surely it is of no oartlily forging, the bond that links, in full and perfect ai^ccrd, so many millions of men with each other and with their respec- tive pastors; that gives one heart and one soul to so many pastors and to their bishops ; that unites these bishops to Leo, and Leo to them ; and Leo and bishops and priests are faithful to the Sacred Heart of Christ I Can we conceive of a more perfect fulfilment of the prayer of Christ to his Father, that his followers should be one, even as He and his Father are one ? Is not the Catholic Church to-day, in the living strength of its internal unity, the one fold and the one Shepherd which our Saviour promised to create ? Ii' KKPI.Y DELIVERED AT QUEFEC. 171 REPLY DELIVERED AT QUEBEC. I THAXK you very sincerely for having invited me to visit this evening the Cercle CathoUqiie of Quebec, and for the cordial welcome with which you have treated me. I accejjted your invitation the more willingly because you assured me in your address that your society does not in any \yay take an active part in politics. As a delegate of the Holy See, I could not but view with satisfaction an association which proclaims that the purpose of its existence is the intellectual and moral culture of its members, in order that, as you have so well expressed it, they may become " faithful subjects of their sove- reign and good Christians before all." I congratulate you on these noble aims of your society, and on the Catholic spirit you have shewn by placing under the guidance of your illustrious archbishop the efforts you are making to realise "them. As lono- as those efforts continue to deserve the blessing and patronage of your Ordinary, they cannot fail to be successful. Not by books alone, but by the stronger power of your good example you Avill ground yourselves and others in that " sincere devotion and unlimited obedience to Holy Church and your pastors," which you justly prize as the distinctive characteristics of all Catholic associations Avorthy of the name. It is the spirit of the Catholic Church to respect the rights of all men while she most strenuously defends h( r own; and, guided by her, her children, in their dealings with their fellow-men, ever imitate her example of forbearance and charity towards others, while they themselves cling with unfailing devotion to the truths of which she is the infallible teacher. 1 desire also to congratulate you, and through you, the citizens of Quebec and the French- Canadian population of the whole Dominion, on the touching ceremony of the interment of the remains of Mgr. de Laval, at which it was my happiness to assist. No one could fail to be impressed by the majesty of the sacred rite within the walls of your venerable Basilica ; no one could witness immoved the religious pageant in the streets, which, in its grandeur, would ha\ e well become a Montmorency in the days when a Montmorency mated with kings ; no one could behold with indifference the serried thousands that fol- lowed from church to church, from monastery to monastery, the 1 m '. 172 REPLY tELIVEKKI) AT Ql EHEC. ;i, . ¥.\ remains of the great bishop whose prescient love, two centuries ago, had bidden these edifices to rise for their and for their children's benefit ; no one could listen without a thrill to the eloquent episcopal voice that spoke so nobly the praise of the mighty dead. But I confess that what most of all stirred mv inmost soul was the thought that I was standing in the i^resence of an entire Christian people honouring the ashes of the father of th-^r country ! I felt my whole heart beat in sympathy with the gre?t heart of that Canadian race I have learned to love so well ; and, Celt as I am, I was proud to be there to join mv Celtic kinsmen— kinsmen in faith even more than in blood— iii the outpouring of their love and gratitude towards the man who had built up their nation. It was my lot some twenty years ago to stand by the side of another grave that had just been opened, to give back for a moment to the world's homage the ashes of a great man who had reposed for some centuries in its embrace. The place was on the slope of the Eoman Janiculum, from which the eye of the traveller follows the winding Tiber, and passes over the countless domes of the Holy City to where, beyond the solemn Campagna, the blue Latin Hills stand against the sky. The re- opened grave was the grave of Torquato Tasso. The' dust before me was all that remained of the earthlv tabernacle of the poetic soul that had sung of Jerusalem Delivered, and of the hero whose pious arms had Avon back from Paynim hordes the sepulchre of Christ. Contrasting in my thoughts the several glories of these two illustrious graves, I said within myself that what the poet had dreamed of, Mgr. de Laval had in great part accomplished. Tasso sang of a new kingdom founded on faith, planned in minds of knightly mould, built up by deeds of knightly valour, whose citizens were to be men of Christian courage and endurance, and gentleness, and truth, and loving kindness. Alas ! that fair visions such as those should prove to be visions and nothinf; more. It is the glory of Mgr. de Laval that here, on the banks of the St. Lawrence, he built up a people fashioned, in a large measure, after so lofty an ideal, u people whose polity is based on Catholic truth ; whose courage has been tested by severest trials ; whose charity reaches all form of suffering ; whose genius, at once refined and strong, has already created a literature of its own ; Avhose aspirations after Lberty consist with sincerest loyalty to the constitution that protects them ; in a word, a people which, in the various phases of its domestic, civil, and political life, never loses sight of its spiritual destinies, and refuses to be dragged down by the de- graded materialistic tendencies* of the age. REPLY DELIVERED AT QUEBEC. 173 May God's blessing long preserve such a people! may it grow in every gift of the dew of heaven and of the fulness of the earth ! and may its sons, living in harmony with their fellow-citizens of every class, protected in their own rights by the law, and respecting scrupulously the rights of others ad- vance in moral and material prosperity, and continue to add strength to the Confederation of Canada'' I Il: . 1 If' I! r ' |j ) ESSAYS ti -H 1 1 ■ n '4 Pl:| . 1 I ESSAYS. INTRODUCTION TO " THE ECCLESIASTICAL "Chuistx.n is my name, Catholic my surname," said one of the early Fathers, when he wished to give an adequate descrbt on of his rehgjous belief. In the sami way, the nLe and su« of this publication sufficiently indicate its character and scor Iirst of all, 1 IS Ecclesiastical, by reason of its subject-maX" of the class which it addresses, and of the sanction undeAhich 1 api^ears. Next it is Irish, because, to the best of its humble abih y. It IS intended to serve the Catholic Church of our Hive country. Father Segneri tells us in one of his sermons that ' his day men used to flock to the religious houses in Sr/ea 'er y asking : " What news from Ireland ?" Those wpr^ flil V" ^ days of the latter half of the seventeenth c^i;? II .oZ/ on such occasions, in the cool cloisters of Roman colleges wheTe he had si)ent so much of hs blameless life ^vn« f],« ^ Archbisbop Plunket pronounced by t dfei^.twhom h^ ^vorth was so well known ! How many a listener wentsh-aLht out from such con erences to pray for his stricken brethrei^of the suffering Irish Church ! At that time the trials tbp wounds, the sorrows, the triumphs, the hopes of IHsh r?,^nl were the subject of many a disLii'se, the ^xiW L^o ^^^^^^ n heart. To-day all this is changed in great part. No foreS preacher now-a-days would allude to his hearers' widesS merest about the Irish Church, as one of the sign'of the tCs And why ? Not bccause-due allowance made for chan-S- our countiy has become less interesting ; for surely our CatL icity, m the bloom of its second sprin|,'is not le LemarkaWe" than it was when torn and beaten to the ground by persecution And If fraternal love made our distant brethren iT sorrow: fully over the sea upon our Church when in ruins surety the same loye would teach them not to turn away theS eyesVom 13 •s^ Vi ^^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I «-iM 150 It iao M 2.2 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 *« 6" ► V] <^ /] ^>. c5 «> ■> /A J^'.^. <^y k'* v^ Photographic Sdences Corporation # :0^ « ^lie Middle Ages has ever forced upon Protestant minds a difficulty which they have met by many various methods of solution. The Middle Age exhibits so much of precious side by side with so much of base, so much ot the beauty of holiness in the midst of ungodliness, so much of what all Christians admit as truth with what Protestants call fatal error, that the character of the whole cannot readily be taken in at first sight from the Protestant point of view. Some there are who dwell so long on the shadows that they close their eyes to the lio-ht, and these declare the medifcval Church to have been a scene of unmitigated evil. To their minds the whole thedogy of the period is useless, or worse than useless, harmtul. ihey connect the Middle Ages with wickedness as thoroughly as the Mauichtcans connected matter with the evil principle. Others there are who honestly admit that these Ages, especi- ally th-ir earlier part, a. . not Protestant, but at the same time contend that neither aie they favourable to Roman doctrine. These believe that facts abundantly prove that m the bosom ot the Church which was then, the two Churches were to be found, which afterwards disengaged themselves from one another at the Reformation. This is the philosophy of mediocval history which, as we learn from the preface tc his coLection of Sacred Latin Poetry* has recommended itself to Dr. Trench, the present •Sacred Latin Poetry, selected and arranged by R. C. Trench, 1)^., Arch- bishop of Dubhn, &c. Macmillan & Co., London and Cambridge. 1864. l!-i; I m THE CHURCH OF THE MID.Dl.E AGES. 181 all these T devoted abundant esteemed h Ecclcsi- ;ent to do at it will ;8 of this ence is a ongst us, IHURCH er forced ; by many i so much, ch of the ti of what call fatal be taken )me there bheir eyes have been ! theology il. They ily as the es, especi- same time doctrine. I bosom of be found, inother at al history of Sacred tie present p.D., Arch- 1864. I Protestant Archbishop of Dublin. " In Eomanism we have the residuum of the Middle-Age Church and theolog^^, the lees, after all or well-nigh all, the wine was drained away. But in the mediaeval Church we have the wine and lees together— the truth and the error, the false observance, and yet, at the same time, *?f ? Why are St. Bonaventure's pieces m honour of Mary visited with censure, and his lines, In Fasmnc Domnn made the theme of praise ? Dr, Trench gives us his reasons very plainly. " If our position mean anything," says he (page x.), "we are bound to believe that to us, having the Avord and tho Spirit, the power has been given to distin- guish things which difPer. ... It is our duty to believe that to us^ that to each generation which humbly and earnestly seeks, will be given that enlightening Spirit, by whose aid it shall be enabled to read aright the past realisations of God's divine idea in the wise and historic Church of successive ages, and to dis- tmguisb the human imperfections, blemishes, and errors, from the divme truth which they obscured and overlaid, but which *. f/ %^^ ?^* ^Testroy, being one day rather to be destroyed by It. That is to say, we, as Protestants, in virtue of our position as such, are able by the light of the Holy Spirit to discern true trom false doctrine, the fruits of the good Church from the truits of the evil Church. This enlightening Spirit will be given to each generation which humbly and earnestly seeks it. But, we ask, what are we to believe concerning the workino- of the same enlightening Spirit in the hearts of the holy men whoso exquisitely devotional writings Dr. Trench sets before us :> Were they men of humility and earnestness ? If they were not. Dr. Trench's book appears under false colours, and is nol a book of edification. And if they were, as they certainly were, who is Dr. Trench that he should take it on himself to condemn those who enjoyed the very same light which he claims tor himself ? And why should we not the rather believe that as these holy men had, on his own showing, the Spirit of God, l>r. irench, in condemning tlieir doctrine, does in truth condemn what IS the doctrine of the Church of the Holy Spirit. T' theory is therefore as inconsistent as on historical grou aIs It IS false. Such as it is, however, the conclusions we may draw from it are of great importance. i. Dr. Trench declares that, both by omitting and by m ti! I, li!i 184 A RECENT PROTESTANT VIEW OF THE CHURCH, ETC. thinning, he has carefully removed from his selection all doc- trine implying transubstantiation, the cultus of the Blessed Virgin, the invocation of saints, and the veneration of the cross. Now, as the great bulk of the poems he publishes belong to the Middle Ages, strictly so called, it follows, on Dr. Trench's authority, that these doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church were held long before the Eeformation, and that the Church was already in possession when Luther came. 2. Since he tells us (page vi.) that he has counted inadmis- sible poems which breathe a spirit foreign to that tone of piety which the English Church desires to cherish in her children, it follows that the spirit of piety in the Church of old is not the same as that in the p'-esent Church of England. Now in such cases the presumption Is against novelty. 3. Dr. Trench (page vii.) reminds his readers that it is unfair to try the theological lang'.;age of the Middle Ages by the greater strictness and accuracy rendered necessary by the struggle of the Reformation. A man who holds a doctrine im- 2)Iicitly and in a confused manner, is likely to use words which he would correct if the doctrine were put before him in accurate form. This is a sound principle, and one constantly emplojred by Catholic theologians when they have to deal with an objec- tion urged by Protestants from some obscure or equivocal passage of a Father. It is satisfactory to be able for the future to claim for its use the high authority of Dr. Trench. 4. A special assistance of the Holy Spirit is claimed for all those who humbly and earnestly invoke Him. This assistance is to enable those blessed with it to distinguish between error and divine truth. Is this happy privilege to be exercised either independently, without the direct' n of the ministers of the Church, or is it one of the graces peculiar to the pastoral office ? In the former case, every fanatical sectary may judge in matters of religion as securely as if he had the whole world on his side. In the latter case, it would be interesting to know how much does this privilege differ from the infallibility claimed by the Catholic Church. 0. Finally, the cc ntradictions inherent to the whole theory are most clearly to be seen in the following passage about the noble lines which Hildebert, Archbishop of Tours, in the be- ginning of the twelfth century, places on the lip of the city <>f Rome : — " I have not inserted these lines," says Dr. Trench, "in the body of this collection, le.st I niiglit seem to claim for them that entire sympathy which I am very far from doing. Yet, believing as we may, and to give any meaning to a large period of Church history, we must, that Papal Rome of the Middle Ages had a work of God to accomplish for the taming of a violent and brutal THE IRISH CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. f, il 185 world, in the midst of which she often lifted up the only voice which was anv- where heard in belialf of rigliteoiisiiess and truth— all of which we may believe, with the fu lest sense that her dominion was an unrighteous usurpation, how- ever overruled for good to Christendom, which could then take no higher bless- ing—believing this, we may freely admire these lines, so noblv telling of that true strength of spiritual power, which may be perfected in the utmost weak- ness 01 all other power. It is the city of Rome which speaks : " ' Dtim simulacra mihi, dum numina vana placerent, Militid, populo, mcenibus alta fui : At simiil etligies, arasque superstitiosas Dejiciens, uui sum fkmulata Deo; Cesseniiit arces, cecidere palatia divum, Servivit populis, degenevavit e(jues. Vi\- scio quie fuerim : vix Roi.ue Roma recorder; Vix sinit occasus vel meininisse mei. Gratior litec jactura mihi successibuo illis, Major sum pauper divite, stante jaoens. rius a(iuili3 yexilla erucis, plus Csesaro Petrus, Plus cinctis ducibua valgus inerme dedit. Stans domui terras ; infernum diruta pulso ; ^ Corpora stans, animas fracta jaceusipie rego. Tunc misera3 plebi, nunc principibus tenebrarum Impero ; tunc urbes, nunc mea regna polus. Quod ne Ctesaribus videar debere vel armis, Et species rerum ineque nieosque trahat, Armorum vis ilia perit, ruit alta Senatiis Gloria, procumbunt templa, theatra jacent. Rostra vacant, edicta silent, sua pruemia desuut Emeritis, populo jura, colonus agris. Ista jacent, ne forte mens spem ponat in ilHs Civis, et evacuet spemque bouumque erucis.' " li THE IRISH CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT.* Autumn leaves do not fall in Yallombrosa more frequent than the invectives which, for the last thirty years, have been con- stantly directed against the Irish Church "Establishment. Men of views the most unlike have conti-ibuted their share to this hostile literature. Lord Norraanby and Count Cavour present very dissimilar tyi)es of mind and fooling, and yet both are of accord in condemning the Establishment in Ireland. Lord Palmerston and Mr. Disraeli see things from opposite stand- pomts, and yet neither of them has praise to bestow upon it. Every species of composition which could be employed as a ^veapon of offence has been made to tell the wrath of men against /• n ^\ ^V^ News from Ireland True ? Remarks on the position and prospects q/ the Irish Cfturch EstaUi^hment. By H. S. Cunningham, of the Inner Temple. iiaiTister-at-Law. London : Longman, 1864; pp. 45. r f iji f i 186 THE IKISH CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. against it ■within it the monster grievance. This rich variety of arguments against the Establishment has its advantage and its disadvantage. It is, no doubt, an advantage that light should be poured in upon every side of a question so important. But it is a disadvantage to discover the question to have so many sides, that it becomes a task to master them all. It is not our present purpose to in- crease the literature of this subje< t by adding another to the already large list of attacks of wl ich we have spoken above. Our object is rather to set forth the one argument against the Establishment, which, upon an analysis of that literature, is found to underlie all the others. If we consider the various charges against the Law- Church in Ireland mainly in reference to what they have in common, we discover that they are, gene- rally speaking, modifications of this one objection, viz., that the Irish Establishment is an unjust application of State funds. No doubt there are other and more solemn reasons to be urged No Catholic can be indifferent to the presence of that poison of error which robs the Church of so many children, and heaven of so many souls. Judged upon grounds such as these, it in already condemned. But the struggle is now mainly transferred to a field other than that of religious principles. "We base our objections against the Establishment on this — that it is a political and social injustice. We cannot expect all to agree with us in believing the Establishment to be a fountain of erroneous doctrine ; but Mr. Cunningham's little ■work, named at the head of this article, is an excellent proof that right-minded men, of whatever creed, will join us in pro- testing against it as a political and social wrong. The proof that the Established Church is an unjust application of State funds may be stated thus : — The State has some six hundred thousand pounds to ad- minister every year in the religious interests of the population of Ireland. Of that population seventy-seven per cent, are Catholics, the rt nainder belonging to various sects of Protes- tantism. The State, when it does not persecute, at least com- pletely ignores the religion of the seventj'-seven per cent., and gives that enormous sum of the public mono>y of the country to the religion of the remaining fraction of the population. Can any injustice bp more flagrant than this? The force of this argument rests on *wo assertions : one, that the Catholics have an immense numerical majority over the Protestants ; the other, that an enormous sum of public money is squandered upon the Establishment. If these assertions can be once proved, the argument is simply crushing in its conclu- siveness. Now, the proof of these assertions is easy, and cannot be too often repeated to the Catholics of Ireland. THE IRISH CHUK(H EsI'AHMSHMENT, 187 On the 17th of April, 1861, the resident population of Ire- land were taken as follows : — ^Members of the Established Church, Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, . . . . Independents, Baptists, and Quakers, All other persuasions, 11.9 per cent. 77.7 „ 9.0 „ 0.8 „ 0.1 „ o.y Thus out of a total population of 5,798,900, there were in round numbers. Catholics, four millions and a half; Protestant* of all denominations, rather more than a million and a quarter. In Connaught the Catholics are 94.8 per cent, of the inhabi- tants ; in Munster, 93 ; in Leinster, 85 ; in Ulster, 50 per cent. The Presbyterians in Ulster are 26.3 per cent, of the whole population. In none of the other provinces do they reach one per cent. " The Established Church ranges from 38.4 per cent in the county of Fer- managli, its highest level, to 2 per cent, in Clare. In Armagh it numbers .30 percent.; in the suburbs of Dublin, 35 per cent.; in the counties of Dublin Wieklow, Aitriin, and L ulonderry, between 15 and 20 per cent. ; in Kind's and Queens counties, Cavan, Carlow, Kildare, Donegal, Monaghan, and t1ie ^;ity of Cork, between 10 and 15 ; in the counties of Longford, Louth, Meath Westmeath, Wexford, Cork, Tipperary (North Riding), Leitrim,and Siigo, and in the citie.s of Kilkenny, Limerick, and Waterford, members of the Establish- ment are between ,5 and 10 per cent. ; in the counties of Kilkenny, Limerick, the ^outh Kiding of Tipperary, Kerry, Roscommon, and the town of Galwav the percentage is between 3 and 5; while in the counties of Waterford, Oalway, and Mayo it is between 2 and 3, sinking at last to 2 per cent, in " The Roman Catholic population has decreased by very nearly two millions, from 6,430,000 to 4,.50O,OOO. The dioceses where the loss has been greatest have been those of Tuam, Killaloe, Meath, Elphin, and Cloyne, each of which has lost something more than one-third of its Catholic inhabitants. Achonrv has escaped witii the loss of one-thirtieth, Waterford of that of one-eleventh,, while the two dioceses of Dublin and Connor have the rare distinction of show- ing a slight increase in numbers. In nine dioceses Roman Catholics are between J5 and 99 per cent, of the total population ; in ten they range between 90 and aa ; in four, l)etweeu 85 and 90 ; in one, between 80 and 85 ; in two, between <&andf;iO; while m three their numbers fall as low as between 20 and 35 per cent. ion"^"'-"'."'° *° *''*' <=''tssification of parishes, we find that there are at present J99 parislies— 5 less than in )8.'}4- containing no member of the Established Church ; 57o— nearly one-fourth of the entire number— containing more than 1 and less tlian 20 membe-.-s ; 41() containing more than 20 and less than .50 inem- bers ; 349 where there are between 50 and 100 ; and 270 with between 100 and 200 members ; 309 between 200 and 300 ; 141 between 500 and 1,000; 106 be- tween 1,000 and 2,000; 53 between 2,000 and 5,000 ; 8 parishes only range as high as 5,000 to 10,000, and 2 between 20,000 and 30,000. ,'.'7^^^ Roman Catholics have .532 parishes to set against 53 Protestant, in ronA\i'«"""^^^'"^''''^"Se between 2,0tX) and 5,000; 1.33 parishes with from OA n«, 10,000 members ; 32 in which the numbers lie between 10,000 to 20,000 ; and 3 ranging from 20,000 to 30,000. Of landed proprietors, 4,000 ar& it I'll f !l,:.:.] 188 THE IRISH CHURCJl KSTAHLISHMENT. I M Ml If ! m' registered ns Protestant ErtiHcopalians, 3.oflO nfj Roman Catholics, which seems to i)rove that a considerable area of land has now passed into the hands of Catholic o« ners, wlio have acccrdini,{ly a good right to he heard as to tho em- ployment of State funda. with which the soil is primarily chargeable." In face of these statistics there can bo no doubt but that the first assertion is abundiiiitly proved. As to the second, all the State aic' granted to Catholics is involved in the grant to Maynooth. The Presbyterians have the " Itrii'tion Doiiioii," first given by Charles II., who allowed them £600 secret service money. AVilliam III. made it £1,200 per annum. In 17i)2 it amounted to £5,000. To-day it amounts very nearly to £40,000, and is capable of extension on very easy terms. The funds of the Established Church, in round numbers, may be stated as follows : — Annual net income of episcopal see?, Revenues of suppressed sees and benefices, now held and administered by the Eccle- siastical Commissioners, . Tithe rent-charge, payable to Ecclesiastical persons, ..... £G3,000 117,000 400,000 £580,000 These figures give an inadequate idea of the real richos of the Church. The Dublin Univers'.ti/ Magazine, quoted by Mr. Cunningham, says : — " We have before us a letter from a dignitary, whose statement is, that his predecessor was twenty years in possession, that he leased severally to one re- lation after another, as each dropped off, the lands from which came the emolu- ments of his office ; and, finally, to his son, who for twenty years after his death is to hold the land for one sixth of Griffith's valuation, wliich, as everyone knows is, as a general rule, twenty-five per cent, under the rental, with a small renewal fine. So that though this dignitary did not preacli in any of hia parishes, for he was a pluralist also, for nearly thirty years, and died leaving a very large sum of money, he managed to impoverish his successor for the benefit of his lieirs for twenty years after his death. \hial'm artifex pereo ! must, we should imagine, have been the reflection of this successor of tiie Apostles, as he lay on his bed of (\eath and reflected conqilacently on his literal fulfilment of the .Scriptural mandate, to provide ' for them of his own household' no less than for the interests of ' the Church of God.' " Besides this pilfering on the part of the prelates, we must not forget the enormous sums sent into this country to help the proselytising societies in their work. Let Mr. Cunningham give us a few examples from which we may gain a fair idea of the working of the rest : — I THE IRISH CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 189 •' The Hibernian Bible Society, established for diffusing copies of the Serin, tures, of course in a Protestant interest, Ims, since 1806. spent *80,000 in this way and has given away more than 3 000,000 copies. The Primitive WesJevan Methodist Home Missionary Society has lor its object ' tlie prop, gation of thj Gospel m Ire an.l,' ami employs fifty missionary agents and upwards of fiftv nircuit preachers^ IheHibe.nian Wesleyan Methodist Missionary So-ietv 1 aa an income of £137.00(_), 849 missionaries, 1,900 paid, and 15,0()0 u'fpa^d a/ent' of whom 25 missionaries, 54 day-school teacners, and im 8unday.schoo' teachera are employed m Ireland. Besides these there are the Irish Evangelical Society •for promoting the evangelisation of Ireland, by the agency of ministers°evan. gehsts, town missionaries, schools, &c. ; the Parochial Visitors' «ocietv for enabling the clergy near Dubbn to ' have the assistance of lit persons to act under their direction in matters vv^nch the spirit and constitution of the United Church of Kngland and Ireland allow its clergy to depute to such agents rJhe Scripture Readers Society for Ireland, with sixty-four readers, each w th a regular district ; the Incorporated Society for piomotine EiiLdish Protpotlnf Sct.ools in Ireland; the Islan.l8 and Coast .Society! ' for pZiS^e ScS^^^^^^ education of the inhabitants of the islaudf and coast ;' the Irish brancii of the Evangelical Alliance under the presidency of the Earl of Roden ; the Society for promoting the Education of the poor in Ireland, which has educated at its Mo an injustice is, in Mr. Cunning- ham's opinion, the greatest of misfortunes. " To do wrong is a far greater misfortune than t^ endure it. No man enjoys a wrongful privilege, tramples on his fellow- citizens, or violates fair play without forthwith incurring a moral _ loss, compared with which, any external advantage is a bauble indeed." Noble words these : and most refreshingly do they fall upon Catholic ears, wearied with the noisy utilitarian philosophy of the day. Nor does the Establishment confer any external or material advantage on England. On the contrary ,_ it is preparing for her some grievous and himiiliating calamity. Who sows the wind must expect to reap the whirlwind ; and no other harvest but V alamity can possibly be gathered from the evil seed of dis- affection on one side, and of tyranny on the other, which the Establishment has sown in Ireland. Mr. Cunningham thus de- scribes how the chronic disaffection of Irishmen is produced : — "The church funds of Ireland belong, without the possibility of a cavil, to the Irish nation ; that nation has, from one reason or another, persistently re- fused to follow us in deserting the general creed of Christendom. They have clung and still cling to their faith with that desperate tenacity which persecu- THE IRISH CHUBCH ESTABLISHMENT. 191 tion best engenders. . . . But the gradual abandonment of the atrocious penal code— as one by one its provisions became revolting to the increased liumanitv of the age— was a virtual confession that we gave up all hope of driving the Irish Catholics within the pale of our Church. . . . Angry at resistance the English Government, co-operating with English fanaticism, set itself delibe- rately to persecute, degrade, almost destroy those whom it could not succeed m converting. All has been tried, and the Establishment remains, as of old the privilege of a powerful minority, the badge of conquest upon a prostrate race, a perpetual source of irritation, and nothing more. So far from being Protestantised, the Irish are already the hottest Ultramontanes in Europe and are assuming more and more the triumphant air to which their numericalascen- daney entitles them. There is not the ghost of a chance of Ireland becon-ing other than she is, or of the Establislimcnt making such strides as mi'^'ht render her present position less transparently absurd. The one question is this whether we choose to perpetuate a state of things condemned by all statesmen as vicious in principle, id proved by long experience to be productive of no- thing but a tyrannising temper on the one liand, and chronic disaffection on the Other, hvery Irish peasant has sense enough to appreciate the injustice of the arrangement which obliges him to build his chapel, pav the priest, and gives his landlord a church and parson for nothing. He may be excused, too, for a feeling of annoyance, as he trudges past the empty parish church, sinniorted at the public expense, to some remote chapel crowded with peasants, out of whose abject poverty the necessary funds for its support have to be wruii'. He may be excused if his i.otions of fair play, e(iual rights, and political loyalty, are somewhat indistinct, and that where the law is from the outset a manifest wrong-doer, it should be sometimes superseded by rougher and more effective expedients. He is naturally a rebel, because the State proclaims hei^elf his enemy. J fe naturally thinks it monstrous that any proprietor of the soil should have it in his ])ower to refuse the inhabitants a spot of ground on which to cele- brate their religious rites; that men, women, and children should be obliged to walk five, six, and even ten miles to the nearest place of worship ; that edu- cation should be constantly refused, except coupled with open and systematic proselytism ; tli.at terrorism and coercion, tlie mean contrivances of bi'^otry, should be suffered to do their worst, witiiout the strong hand of Government intervening to lighten the blow, or iirovide means of protection" (pp. 28, 29). All this is well said : nor is tlio author less happy in his description of tlio tyrannising temper which it fosters on the part of the Protestants. "And if the Establishment works ill as regards the Catholic masses its effects on the privileged minority seem to us scarcely less disa.strous. It 'en- genders a tone of arrogant, violent, uncharitable bigotry, which hai)pilv is un- knowi. in this country beyond the precinctf of Exeter Hall and the coriinins of the ' religious' newspapers. Indeed, we have only to turn to Oood Kur.^ from Ireland to assure ourselves of the detestable temper in which tliese modern Reformers set about the process of evangelisation, and of the ex^^raordinary hardihood of assertion by which their ministrations are characterised. The creed of an Irish peasant may be superstitious— where is the peasant whose creed is anything else ?— but religion in Ireland has at any rate, in the true spirit of Christianity, found its way to the wretched, the degraded, the despair- ing : it has refined, comforted, ennobled those whom external circumstancea seemed expressly designed to crush into absolute brutality. The Irish peasant is never the mere animal that for centuries English legislators tried to make him. He is a troublesome subject, indeed, and has a code of his own as to the 'wild justice' to which the oppressed may, in the last instance, resort; but in tlie domertic virtues, chastity, kindliness, hospitality, he stuiuis, at least' as well as English or Scotch of the same condition in life. As regards domestic purity, indeed, Ireland, by universal confession, rises as much above the ordi- 192 THE IRISH CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. !■! nary standard as Scotland falls belo'v it : and, as regards intemperance, there has been in Ireland of late years a marked improvement, for which, unhappily, no counterpart is to be found in any otlier part of the United Kingdom. Yet we are gravely invited to believe, on the testimony of a few hot-brained fana- tics, that the whole Catholic system in Ireland is one vast conspiracy against piety, happiness, and civilisation. . . . " That Protestants are perfectly well aware of the mortification entailed upon their Catholic fellow-subjects by the existing state of things, and regard it with complacent acquiescence, is not the least painful feature of the case. 'Jhe Irish Church is bad, not only in itself, but as being the last of a long series of oppres- sions wliioh fear, passion, or necessity have at various times led the English to mfiict upon their feeble neighbour. There have been periods when the delibe- rate idea of even intelligent politicians was, that the one population should exterminate the other ; and Burke has pointed out how the religious animosi- ties, which seem now the great cause of dispute, are in reality only a new phase of far earlier hostility, grounded oriiiinally on conquest, and strengtlisned by the cruelties which conquest involved. It is to some such fierce inood, tradi- tionally familiar to the ruling race, that an institution so unjust in principle, so troublesome in practice, so incurably barren of all useful result, can appeal for sanction and support. The blind and almost ferocious bigotry of Irish Presbyterians is owing, one would fain hope, less to personal temperament than to the tastes and convictions of a ruder age, embodied in evil customs and a conventionally violent phraseology. And the same is more or less true of ■ their Episcopalian brethren. It is from the calmer feelings and more discrimi- nating judgment of the English nation that any remedial measure is expected " (pp. 33-.37). 1 We have notliing to add to this. Every Catholic will recog- nise the truth of the picture thus ably drawn. Our obligations to Mr. Cunningham do not, liowever, end here. There is still another lesson which, although he does not mean to teach it, we are glad to learn from him. It is this. Speaking of the paid clergy of the Establishtnent, he says : — _ "So far from assisting the Government in its schemes, they are often among its bitterest opponents. J^r. Cullen himself is liardly more hostile to the Na- tional Education System than these paid officials of the State, fo'- whom the one possible excuse would be an unflinching support of State measures. The Church Education Society numbers somot'hing like two-thirds of the Estab- lished clergy among its adherents, and is one of tlie most serious difficulties witli which at present the cause of National Education has to contend. What shall be done witli these spaniels that forget to cringe, but bark and snap at the hand that feeds them? Might they not, at any rate, bo scourged and starved into a more submissive mood ?" (p. 43.) These words reveal to us tlie position which men of the world would expect a clergy paid by +lie State to assume towards the State. From being ministers of God, they are to become paid officials of the State ; from being the stewards of tilings divine, they are to recommend themselves to their masters by an un- flinching support of the State measures. And if conscience should at auy^ time call upon them to refuse the support de- manded at their hands, the Government has the power and the "Will to scourge and .starve them into a more submissive mood. "What a practical commentary does Mr. Cunningham here offer CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 193 on the words used by Mgr. Brancadoro,* in declining the pension offered by the British Government in 1805 ! Better, larger povertv with theliberty of the sanctuary, than rich ekowments with slavery We demand the abolition of the Establishment on the broad grounds of social equality and justice, and not because we wish to enrich ourselves with its spoils. We are rich enough m the love of that noble Irish race, than which "f cV- t^^' ''''^'' ^''''^ """'"^ ^^^^^^^ consolation to the ministers CARDUsTAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLEON- BONAPARTE. The concordat signed at Paris on the loth July, 1801, between Pius VII and Napoleon, is one of the most important facts of modern history. The magnitude of its results may best be learned from the contrast between the present state of reliffion m France and that which existed during, and for long after the Revolution. '; There is no negotiation," says M. Thiers, "which IS more deserving of serious meditation than that of the Con- cordat ; but up to the present day the materials for such a study have been wanting. At length the full light of history has been let in upon the secret conferences in which the articles of that treaty were prepared; and the hand which has traced for us their history IS the same which signed the Concordat itself. Ihe memoirs of Cardinal Consalvi, who took part in the negotia- tions as the plenipotentiary of the Roman Pontiff, penned by him during the days of his exile, have at length been ffiven to the world.t 8mce the Cardinal's death, in 1824, these memoir, have been religiously left m the obscurity to which their author condemned them, and which he willed should last as long as the lite ot the principal personages of whom he has made mention m his pages. But when at length, in 1858, there appeared no leason for further silence, they were handed over bv Consalvi's executors to M. Cretiueau-Joly, who has published, not the original text, but what he assures us is a faithful version of *Iriiik Ecdesiantical Record, No. II. t Mtmoin-.'i (III Cardinal - DD. 50-.'>5. «„ LfTZ''"" ''" ^7"'''^'""^ Vonmlvi, secretaire d'Etat du Papa P!o VII (uy.^ un introductwn et d,s note,, par J. CretineaH-Johj. Paris- Heuri Plon R^ Oarenciere, 8, 1864. 2 vols., 8vo, pp. 454-488. ' ^"^ 14 in 194 CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLKON KONAPAETE. •"J it. We propose to give our readers a sketch of the history of the Concordat as it is recorded in these memoirs, and, in doing so, we shall make use as often as we can of the Cardinal's own words. The victory of Marengo, gained June 14, 1800, made the First Consul master of Italy. Five days after the battle, passing through Vercelli at the head oi his army, he charged Cardinal Martiniana, bishop of that city, to communicate to the Pope his desire of negotiating a settleinent of the religious affairs of France, and for this purpose he requested that Mgr. Spina, avchbishop of Corinth, might be sent to him to Turin. His request was gladly complied with. But scarcely had that pre- late enteicd Turin than he was ordered to set out at once for Paris, where Xapoleon awaited his arrival. It needed but a short stay in that capital to convince Mgr. Spina that the pro- jects of concordat proposed by the consul were absolutely inad- missible, as being founded on a b<.fis completely at variance with the laws of the Church. In vain did the Pope, in his anxiety to promote the good of religion, forward to Paris an amended plan of concordat, in which he made every concession permitted by his duty as head of the Church. The only answer he received was an intimation from M. Cacault, the French agent at Rome, that unless within five days the proposals made by Napoleon Avere accepted without the slightest change, the least restriction or correction, he, Cacault, should declare a rup- ture between the Holy See and France, and immediately lea-\(^ Rome to join General Murat at Florence. To all these threats, and to the menace of the loss of his temporal power, the Poi)c had but one reply, that same reply which we have heard from Pius IX. in our own day — that )wn jwsHumuH against which all the assaults of the masters of legions have ever failed, and ever- more shall fail. M. Cacault, not daring to disobey the orders he had received , prepared at once for his departure ; but his excellent heart and his affection for Rome suggested to him a means of preventing the mischief that was sure to follow from the anger of Napoleon if once kindled against the Holy See. He proposed that Car- dinal Consalvi, the Pope's secretary of state, should at once set out for Paris, to lay before the First Consul the imperious reasons by which the Holy Father was forced to refuse the proffered concordat. The French agent felt confident that, whilst it would fiatter Napoleon's pride to be able to exhibit to the Parisians a Cardinal prime minister in waiting upon his will, the '•■>re.'?enen of Consalvi would also be n proof of the Popo'n anxious desire to come to a favourable understanding on the affairs of the French Church. After mature deliberation this E. listory of , in doing nal's own made the e, passing Cardinal Pope his affairs of ^r. Spina, rin. His that pre- once for led but a the pro- tely inad- variance pe, in his Paris an ;oncession ly answer B French sals made ange, the ire a rup- ;ely leave threats, the Pope >ard from which all and ever- [ received , beart and reventing Napoleon that Car- 1 once set imperious efuse the ent that, exhibit to 1 his will, iR T^npo'* ig on the ition this CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLKON UONAPARTE. 195 plan was adopted. The Cardinal took care that to the creden- tials usually given in cases of treaties, the Pope should add a most precise command that his envoy was to consider the prefect of concordat which had been corrected at Pome, and hSo rejected at Pans, not only as the basis of the future treaty but as the concordat itself. Powers were granted, howeveM^iake such changes as did not alter the substance'of the d^ ument I thought It necessary,'' says the Cardin J " to have my Es led ;n tins way because I foresaw that, unless I wore ilavoX ion to show the French Government how limited were my powe they would soon force my entrenchments " ^ ^ ' Leaving Ponie in company with M. Cacault, Cardinal Con- .al arrived at Pans at mght. after a tedious jouniey of fifteen lavs, and took up his abode witli Mgr. Spina and his theoloo-ian 1 . Caselh, at erwards cardinal. Karly in the morning heCt to acquaint Bonaparte of liis arrival, and to learn at ^?hat ho • he could have the honour of seeing the First Consul He i . (luired also m what costume he should present himself as at that period the eccksiastical dress had been Abandoned bv the iV^^^^^^^ <• ergy. Ihese communications were made through the Abb^ Lernier vvho, from having been one of the leaders hi the war of La A endee against the Pepublic, had taken a great part Tn the pacihcation o± these provinces upon the terms offered bv the consular gov ornment, and liad therebv secured for himself the favour of Bonaparte. He was appointed negotiator on th par of the Government, and brought to his task much theological know edge dip omatie skill, and the advantage of being aSe! able to beta the contracting parties. This ecclesiasHc soon veturned to Consalvi with tlie iiTtimation that the SS Con'u would receive hini that same nioniing at two o'clock ■I'ld th t he was to come in the fullest possible^'.-ardinalit' ^ c^me The J ardinal, however, d,d not gratify him in this latter ,,articular behevmg it to be his duty to present hin.sdf in the clrls siX worn out of doors by cardinals when not in function. He wa^ mtroduced to Napoleon under circumstances well cahn.lated ?o enibarrass a less evenly poised mind than his own. " I know '' sa.d the 1 irst Consul, " why you have come to France. I w Isli the conferences to be opened without delav. T allow you five day- tnne, and I warn you tliat if on the fifth dav the *ne.>-otia. t ons are not cone uded, you must gu back to Ponu, as fhave already deeded wliat to do in sucli a case." Cons Ivi ronlied wi h calm d.gmty, and was soon afterwards condu,.ted to hTs hotel. On the sanie day the Alb.'. Hornier can,e aoain to C,!n •suivi and asked liuu for a memorial setting fortli'the reasons which had constrained tlic Pope to refect tlu^proiect which had been presented at Pome by 31. Cacault. AltlL^i weaded by ^1: s . 11- 196 CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLEON HONAPARTE. his long journey, the Cardinal spent the watches of the night in drawing up the memorial, which, on the following day, was communicated by the Abbe Bernier to Talleyrand, who, in turn, wcs to report upon it and lay it before the First Consul. The design of the memorial was to justify the refusal of the Con- cordat in the terms in which it had been drawn up by the French Government, and to show how reasonable and just were the modifications insisted on by the Pope. This design was not attained. Talleyrand wrote on the margin of the first page of the memorial these words, well calculated to confirm Napoleon in his idea that the Pope's minister was actuated by personal enmiiy towards the French Government : " Cardinal Consalvi's memorial does more to throw back the negotiations than all that has hitherto been written on the subject." These words, al- though they produced an unfavourable impression on the First Consul, did not, however, retard the negotiations. The fatigue of these negotiations was very great. Twice each day for many days beyond the five granted by lionaparte, the Cardinal held conferences with the Abbe Bernier, always in the presence of Mgr. Spina and P. Caselli. The nights were frequently spent in drawing up and correcting memorials to be presented to thii Government. It was at this period in the negotiations that the limit which the I'ope had placed to the Cardinal's powers was found to be of the greatest practical ad\antage. The Abbt' Bernier, Avhen any difficulty occurred, incessantly declared that, however strong his own convictions, he could decide nothing of liimself without referring the matter to the First Consul. On the contrary, the Cardinal was never allowed to despatch a courier to consult the Pope and receive his commands. The pretext for this prohibition was, that the Concordat should ab- solutely be finished the next day. Under these circumstances, his limited powers were the only means left to Consalvi by which he might resist the pressure brought to bear against him. The orders he had received from the l*ope were, not to breiilc off the negotiations and refuse tho Concordat because he could not make it as favourable as might bo ; but, on the other hand, not to sign it by overstepping tliose instruct'ons given him before he left Home, of which we have spoken above. For twenty-five days the conferences continued. Every nerve wax strained to avert a rupture on tlie one hand, and undue conces- sions on the other. The consequences of a rupture were fre- quently laid before the Cardinal during these days, which he calls "days of anguish," by the Count de Cobenzel, Austrian ambassador at l^aris. He was asked to consider that if the Fir<^t Consul should break with Rome, and definitely separate from the head of the Catholic Church, lie would, as he had often CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 197 threatened, force Germany, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, and Hol- land, to become the accomplices of his apostasy. Finally, after incredible fatigue, after sufferings and anguish of every kind, the day carae which brought with it the long- looked-for conclusion of their task. The Abbe Bernier, who reported every evening to Bonaparte the results of the daily conferences, at length announced that the First Consul accepted all the disputed articles, and that on the following day they .should proceed to sign two authentic copies of the treaty, one copy to remain in the hands of each of tlie contracting parties. The project thus accepted was substantially the same as the one which, having been amended at Rome, had been rejected by the French Government before the Cardinal's journey, and which liad led to M. Cacault's withdrawal from Rome within five days. It was arranged that the signatures should be six, three on each side. The Cardinal, Mgr. Spina, and P. Caselli, were to sign on behalf of the Holy See ; Joseph Bonaparte, brother of the 1 irst Consul, Cretet, Councillor of State, and the Abbe Bernier, on behalf of the French Government. It was further arranged that the Abbe Bernier should call for the three ecclesiastics at a little before four o'clock on the following dav, 14th July, and conduct tlieui to the residence of Joseph BoT.aparte, where the solemn act was to be completed. " There," said Bernier, " we shall be able to do all in a • luarter of an Iiour, as we have only to write six names, and this, including the congratulations, will not take even so long." He also showed them the Man ifcNr of the day, in which the Govern- ment officially announced the conclusion of the negotiations. He added that on the next day, anniversary of the taking of the Bastile, the First Consul intended to proclaim, at a grand dinner of more than three hundred guests, that the Concordat was signed, and a treaty concluded between the Holy See and the Govern- lucut of far more importance than even the Concordat between I'rancis I. and Leo X. Shortly before four o'clock the next day the Abbe Bernier made his appearance, having in his hand a roil of paper, which lie said was the cojjy of the Concordat to be signed. On their arrival at Joseph Bonaparte's, they took their places at a table, and after a short discussion as to who should be the first to sign, Joseph yielded that lionour to the claims of the Cardinal. He took the pen in liis hand, and then followed a scene which must be described m his o./n words: "What was my surprise when I saw the Abbe Jiernier place before me the copy which he took from his roll, as if to make me sign without reading it, and when on running my eye over it, I found that it was not the treaty which had been agreed on by the respective commissioners and i ,1 ^j miT 198 CARDINAL COXSAI.VI AND NAPOLEON imNAPARTE. i!i I ;!i' accepted by the First Consul himself, but one altogether dili'e- rent ! The difference I perceived in the first lines led me to examine the rest with the most scrupulous care, and I satisfied myself thac this copy not only contained the project which the Pope had refused to accept, but that it moreover included certain points which had been rejected as inadmissible before the project had been forwarded to Rome at all. This occurrence, incredible, but true, paralysed my hand when about to sign my name. I gave expression to my i-urprise, and declared in plain language that on no account could I accept such a document. The First Consul's brother appeared equally astonished at liearing me speak so. fie said that he did not know what to think of what he saw. He added that he had heard from the First Consul himself that everything had been arranged, and that there was nothing for him to do but affix his signature. As the other official, tlie state councillor, Cretet, made the same declaration, protesting his total ignorance, and refusing to believe my state- ment about the change of documents, until I had proved it by confronting the two copies, I could not restrain myself from turning rather sharply towards the Abbe Bernier. 1 told him that no one could confirm the truth of my assertion better than he could ; that I was exceedingly astonished at the studied silence which I observed him to keep in the matter ; and tliat I expressly called upon him to communicate to us what he had such good reason to know. " With a confused air, and in an embarrassed tone, he stuttered out that he could not deny the truth of my words and the differ- ence between^ the copies 'of the Concordat, but that the First Consul had given orders to that effect, affirming that changes were allowable so long as the document was not signed. ' And so,' added Bernier, ' he insists on these changes, because iipon mature deliberation he is not satisfied with the stipulations we have agreed upon.' " I will not here relate what I said in answer to a discourse so strange. ... I spoke warmly of this attempt to succeed by surprise ; I resolutely protested that I would never accept such an act, expressly contrary to the Pope's will. I tlierefore de- clared that if, on their part, they either could not or would not, sign the document we had agreed ujron, the sitting must come to an end." Joseph Bo.iaparte then spoke. lie depicted the fatal conse- quences Avhich would result to religion and to the State froni breaking off the negotiations ; he exhorted them to use every means in their power to come to some understanding betweeii themselves on that very day, seeing that the conclusion of the treaty had been announced in the newspapers, and that the news CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLEON UONArARTE. 199 of its having been signed was to be proclaimed at to-morrow's grand banquet. It was easy, added he, to imagine the indigna- tion and fury of one so headstrong as his brother, when he should have to appear before the public as having published in his own journals false news on a matter of such importance. But no arguments could persuade the Cardinal to negotiate on the basis of the substituted project of Concordat. He consented, however, to discuss once more the articles of the treaty on which they had agreed before. The discussion commenced about five o'clock in the evening. " To understar 1 how serious it was, how exact, what warm debates it gave rise to on both sides, how laborious, how painful, it will be enough to say that it lasted, without any interruption or repose, for nineteen consecutive ho rs, that is to say, to noon on the following day. We spent tht < i.dre night at it, without dismissing our servants or car- riages, like men who hope every hour to finish the business on which they are engaged. At mid-day we had come to an under- standing on all the articles, with one single exception." This one article, of which we shall speak later, appeared to the Car- dinal to be a substantial question, and to involve a principle which, as has often been the case, the Holy See might tolerate as a fact, but which it could never sanction {canonizzare) as an express article of a treaty. The hour when Joseph Bonaparte must leave to appear before the First Consul was at hand, and " it would be impossible," says the Cardinal, " to enumerate the assaults made on me at that moment to induce me to yield on this point, that he might not have to carry to his brother the fatal news of a ruptur " But nothing could shake the resolu- tion of the Papal minister or lead him to act contrary to his most sacred duties. He yielded so far, however, as to 'propose tliat they should omit the disputed article, and draw out a copy of the Concordat in which it should not appear, and that this copy should be brought to Bonaparte. Meantime the Holy See could be consulted on the subject of the article under debate, and the difficulty could be settled before the ratification of the Concordat. This plan was adopted. In less than an hour Joseph returned from the Tuilleries with sorrow depicted on his countenance. He announced that the First Consul, on hearing his report, had given himself up to a fit of extreme fury ; in the violence of his passion he had torn in a hundred p*^ieces the paper on which the Concordat was written ; but finally, after a world of entreaties and arguments, he had consented, with inde- scribable repugnance, to admit all the articles that had been agreed on ; but, with respect to the one article which had been left unsettled, he was inflexible. Joseph was commanded to tell the Cardinal that he, Bonaparte, absolutely insisted on that III mimmim \rj' 200 CARDINAL ('ONSALVI AND NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. , I .» 1^ article just as it was couched in the Abb^ Bornier's paper, and that only two courses were open to the Pope's minister, either to sign the Concordat with that arti )le inserted as it stood, or to break off the negotiation altogether. It was the Consul's unalterable determination to announce at the banquet that very- day either the signing of the Concordat, or the rupture between the parties. "It is easy to imagine the coiistcrnation into which we wero thrown by this message. It still %^ anted three hours to five o'clock, the time fixed for the banquet at which we were all to assist. It is impossible to repeat all that was said by the brother of tlie First Consul, and by the other two, to urge mo to yield to liis will. The consequences of the rupture were of the most gloomy kind. They represented to mo that I was about to make myself responsible for these evils, both to France and Europe, and to my own sovereign and Home. They told me that at Rome I should be charged with untimely obstinacy, and that the bliime of having provoked the results of my refusal would be laid at my door. I began to taste the bitterness of death. All that was terrible in the future they described to me rose up vividly before my mind. I shared at that moment (if I may venture so to speak) the anguish of the Man of Sorrows. Hut, by the help of heaven, duty carried the day. I did not betray it. During the two hours of that struggle I persisted in my refusal, and the negotiation was broken off. " This was the end of that gloomy sitting vhich had lasted full twenty- four hours, from four o'clock of the preceding even- ing to four of tliat unhappy day, with much bodily suffering, as may be supposed, but with much more terrible mental an- guish, which ciin bo appreciated only by those who have experi- enced it. " I WHS condemned, and this I felt to be the most cruel inconvenience of my position, to appear within an hour at the splendid banquet of the day. It was my fate to bear in public the first sliock of the violent passion which the news of the failure of the negotiations were sure to rouse in the breast of the First Consul. My two compnnions and I returned for a few minutes to our hotel, and, after making some hasty preparations, we proceeded to the Tuilleries. " Tlie First Consul was present in a saloon, which was thronged by a crowd of magistrates, officers, state dignitaries, ministers, ambassadors, and strangers of the highest rank, who had been invited to the banquet. He had already seen his brother ; and it is easy to imagine the receptiorj he gave us as soon as we had entered the apartment. The moment he per- ceived me, with a flushed face and in a loud and disdainful voice, he cried out : TAHDINAL (OXSALVI AND NAl'OI.KON BONAPARTK. 201 " 'Well, M. le Cardinal, it is, then, your wish to quarrel! »So be it. I have no need of Homo. I will manage for myself. If Henry VIII., without the twentieth part of my power, suc- ceeded in changing the religion of his country, much more shall I be able to do the like. IJy changing religion in France, I will change it throughout almost the whole of Europe, wherever my power extends. Home .sliall look on at her losses; she shall weep over them ; but there will bo no help for it then. You may be gone ; it is tlie best thing left for you to do. You have wished to quarrel ; well, then, be it so, since you have wished it. When do you leave, I say >' " "After dinner, General," calmly replied the Cardinal. This laconic answer produced on Napoleon an extraordinary effect. lie started, and fixed on the Cardinal a long and search- ing look. The man of iron will felt that he had to deal with another will, wliich, while it matched his own for firmness, sur- passed it in the power that ever springs from self-control. Taking advantage of the Consul's surprise, Consalvi went on to sa}- that ho could not exceed his powers, nor could he a^ree to terms in opposition to the principles of the Holy See ; "that it was not possible in ecclesiastical matters to act as freely as was allowable in urgent cases wherein only temporal matters wore concerned. Besides, in fairness, the rupture could not be laid io the Pope's charge, seeing that his minister had agreed to all the articles with one single exception, and that even this one had not been definitely rejected, but merely referred to the judgment of his Holiness. .Somewhat calmed, the Consul interrupted, saying that he did not wish to leave after him unfinished works : he would have all or none. Tlie Cardinal having replied that he had no power to negotiate on the article in question as long as it remained in its present shape, Naj)olcon's former excitement flashed out once more as he repeated with fire his resolution to insist on it just as it was, without a syllable more or less. " Then I will never si^n it," replied the Cardinal, " for I have no power to do so." "And that is the very reason," cried the other, " why I say that you wished to break off the negotiations, and tliat I look on the business as settled, and that liome shall open her eyes, and shall shed tears of blood for this rupture." Then, almost rudely pushing his way through the company, he went about in every direction declaring tliat he would change the religion of Europe ; that no power could resist him ; that he would not be alone in' getting rid of the I'ope, but would throw the whole of Europe into confusion : it was all the Pope's fault, and the Pope should pay the penalty. The Austrian minister, the Count de Cobenzel, full of con- ,\' 1 i y '4 I "^W m ■ 202 CARniNAI, CONSALVI AND NAPOLEOX HONAPARTE. s :i . stematior: at the scene, ran at once towards the Cardinal, and, with warm entreaty, implored of him to find some moans of averting so dreadful a calamity. Once more had the Cardinal to hear from lips, to which fear lent most earnest eloquence, the harrowing descri])tion of the evils in store for religion and for Europe. " But what can be done." he replied, " in the face of the obocinate determination of the First Consul to resist all change in the form of the article ?" The conversation was here interrupted by the summons to dinner. The meal was short, and was the most bitter the Cardinal had ever tasted in his life. "When they returned to the saloon the Count resumed his ex- postulations. ]Jonaparte, seeing them in conversation, came up to the Count and said that it was a loss of time to try to over- come the obstinacy of the Pope's minister ; and then, with his usual vivacity and energy, he repeated his former threads. The Count respectfully answered that, on the contrary, he found the I'ope's minister sincerely anxious to come to terms, and full of regret at the rupture ; no one but the First Consul himself could l(>ad the way to a reconciliation. " In what manner ?" asked Bonaparte, with great ii merest. " By authorising the :!ommis- sioners to hold another .fitting," replied the Count, " and to endeavour to introduce somo such modification of tue contested point as might satisfy both parties." These and other remarks of the Count were urged with such tact and grace that, after some resistance, Napoleon at last yielded. •' Well, then," cried he, " to piove to you that it h not I who seek to qup-rel, I con- sent that the commissioners shall meet on to-morrow for the last time. Let them see if there be any possibility of an agree- ment t but, if they separate without coming to terms, the rupture may be looked on as final, and tlio Cardinal may go. I declare likewise, that I insist on this article just as it stands, and I will allow no change to be made in it." And so saying, ho abrupay turned his back on the two ministers. These words, ungracious arid contradictory as they were, nevertheless contained the promise of a respite."^ It was resolved at once to hold a sitting the next day at noon in the usual place, in the hope that, having come to some a ^-reemont between them- selves, they miglit win the First Consul's consent through the influence of his brother Joseph, who had a great regard for Be Cobenzel, and who was desirous of peace. That night, following a day of such anxiety, and preceding a day of dreadful struggle, brought but little repose to Cardinal Consalvi. But, when the morning came, a circumstance occurred which filled to overflowing the cup of bitterness he had been condom.ned to drain. At an early hnnr "Slgr. 8pina came into his room with sorrow and embarrassment in his countenance, to CAHDINAI CO.NSALVI AND NAPOLEON HONAPARTE. 203 report that the theologian, P. CaselH, had just left him, after having announced that he had spent the night in reflectinj,^ on the incalculable mischief likely to follow from such a rupture ; that its consequences would be most fatal to religion, and, as tho case of England proved, without a remedy; that, seeing the First Consul inflexibly bent on refusing any modification of the disputed arf.olc, he had come to the determination of signing it us it stood ; that, in his opinion, it did not touch docti-mo, and the unparalleled character of the circumstances would justify the Pope's condescendence in such a case. Mgr. Spina added that since this was tho opinion of P. Caselli, who was so much better a theologian than he himself, he had not courage enough to assume tho rospo;isibility of consequences so fatal to religion, and that he, too, had made up his mind to receivj the article and sign it as it was. In case the Cardinal believed ^hat it was not competent for them to sign without him, they would be imdor the necessity of protesting their acceptation of the article, thereby to save themselves from being responsible for the con- .equences of the rupturo. This declaration, coupled with the thoi:<>ht that he was now alone in the conflict, deeply affected the Cardinal. But it did not shake his resolution nor take away his courage. He set himself to the task of per.'?uading his two friends of their mis- take, but his endeavours were in vain. Perceiving that all his arguments were counterbalr.nced by the dread entertained of the consequences, he eucbd by saying that he was bv no means convinced by their reasons, and even single-handed he was resolved to persevere in the conflict. He therefore requestea them to defer the announcement of their having accepted the article until the conference was at an end, if it should be neces- sary to break off negotiations. They willingly assented, and promised to give their support to his arguments in the course of the debate, although they were resolved not to go as far as a rupture. Precisely at noon the sitting was opened at the residence of Jc.soph Bonaparte. It lasted twelve hours, the clock having struck midnight as they arose from the tabic. Eleven hours wore devoted to the discussion of the article of the Concordat which had been the cause of so many disputes. It is now time to redeem our promise to enter somewhat into detail concerning tliis famous question. At Rome two things were considered as absolutely essential to the Concordat, of which they were declared to be conditions "'■'"■ quibus noil. One of these was the free exercise of the I? ■ ■ fsine Catholic religion ; the other, that this exercise of religion should be public. The Head of the Church felt it indispensable that ! I ini ti * n ''^U 204 CARDINAL CONSALVI AND NAPOLEON HONAPARTJ'. n I f these two points should be proclaimed in the Concordat, not only because it was necessary to secure for religion some solid advan- tage which might justify the extraordinary concessions made by the Holy See, but also because the spirit of the secular Govern- ments both before, and much more after, the French Revolution, ever tended to enslave and fetter the Church. Besides, it had become quite evident, in the earlier stage of the negotiations, that the Government of France was obstinatolv opposed to the recognition of the Catholic religion as the religion of the State. That Government had ever met the exertions made by Rome to gam this point by reciting the fundamental principle of the con- stitution, wliich asserted the complete equality of rights, of persons, of religions, and of everything else. Hence' it was looked upon as a great victory, and one for M'hich Cardinal Consalvi deserved high praise, when he succeeded in extorting the admission that stands at the head of the Concordat, to the effect that the Catholic religion in France was the religion of the majority of the citizens. Another reason there was to insist upon these two points : that universal toleration, which is one of the leading principles of the Jus noni/ii, had long been proved by experience to mean toleration for all sects, but not for the true Church. The Cardinal had not much difficulty in obtain- ing the recognition of the free exercise of the Catholic religion. Perhaps the Government already had thought of the famous organic laws which it afterwards" published, and wliich effectu- ally neutralised all its concessions on this point. IJut a whole host of invincible difficulties was marshalled against the demand mpde for public exercise of the Catholic worship. It Avas urged with some reason, and no doubt in a good measure with sincerTty, that circumstances had made it impossible to carry out in public,' With safetv to the general peace, all the ceremonies of religion, especially in places where the Catholics were outnumbered bv intidels and non-Catholics. These latter would be sure to insult and disturb the processions and other public functions performed outside tlie clmrches ; and it was not to be expected that the Cathoh.s would bear tliese outrages with patience, nonce, not being willing to sanction an indefinite right of publicitv, the Government expressed its views in these terms:* " Tlie R'onuin Catholic Apostolic religion shall be freely exercised in Fiance : ifs irors//ip^ ,s//r/// he ptih/ir, rcfianl hi'iixj had, //o/n'irr, fo /to/ice rcfjit- /(/fious." This is the article the discussion of which had occasioned so much labour and anxiety. Cardinal Consalvi discovered in the article thus worded two fatal defects : firstly, it tended to enslave the Church by plachig 1 •i*"^''" ,'• ^' "• .^'^''S'" Catholica Apostolica Romana lihcre in Oallia exerce- bitur : cultus piiljlicua ent, liabita tanieu ratione onliuatiominunioail politiaiii. CARDINAL CONSAIA'l AND NAPOI-f:oX BONAPARTE. 205 her at the mercy of tte civil power ; and, secondly, it implied on the part of the Church a sanction of the principle which would serve to legalise such enslavement. For many years court lawyers had spoken but too plainly concerning the supposed right of the crown to regulate external worship ; and so far had this right been extended in practice that the Church found her- self almost, or oven altogether, the slave of the civil power " 1 had good reason, therefore," savs the Cardinal, " to entertain a sovereign dread of that indefinite and elastic phrase, ' regard bomg had to' (en sc conformanf)." Besides, many things pointed to the probability that in virtue of such a convention sio-ned by the Holy See, the police, or rather the Government, would inter- fere m everything, and submit everything to its own will and pleasure, without the Church being 'able to object, her liberty being tied up by the expression in the treaty. No doubt the Church frequently finds herself in such circumstances as lead her to tolerate de facia violations of her rights and laws, such toleration being recommended either by prudence, or by charity or by lack of power, or by other just motives. But she never can authorise by a solemn engagement the principle from which such violations spring. Whilst fully decided never to accept at any risk an article so fraught with mischief to the Church, Consalvi was too loyal and too honest to deny the force of some of the arre numerous or in- tolerant ; another A\as to insert an additional article limitino-the duration of the ])r()])osed exception, and determining the cases in which the police might interfere: but all was in vain- the (government obstinately clung to its idea. The Cardinal tells us that he would have preferred to omit all mention of the rio-ht to publicity of worshij), and thus cut the knot it was so trouble- some to unravel; but his orders from Rome to include that point were too decided, and he was not allo\ved to send a courier to solicit fresh instructions from the Holy Father on the sub- ject. He felt, therefore, that, even at the cost of a rupture between the two eonteiuling parties, he was bound by his most solemn and sacred duty to refuse his sanction to the obnoxious proposition. With these convictions, Consalvi took his place at the mcot= f which hung the spirituaf interests of so Ills. We shall not follow out in detail the le resul lions of i I' j 1 J 1 1 • tU 206 CAUDINAJ. CONSALVl AND NAl'OLEOxV BONAPARTE. shifting phases of the negotiation, but we will come at once to the tr/hT'"" • ?^ ^^'T^ commissioners declared th? the bMe had no wish to enslave the Church; that the word 'fZ^^ not mean the Governn.nt, but simply ;hat department of the executive charged with the maintenance of public oXr which order was as much desired by the Cliurch as by the State' Now It was absolutely necessary to preserve public order and no law could stand in the way 'of such a residt. SrZ^Zfi s^>pre.n, /e.r It was impossible, they said, for pubH^^ ordeT to last throughout parts of Franco if unresficted publicity were once permitted in religious ceremonies; and as nS other pmver save tbe Government could judge where such publicity mi|h7be safe, and where dangerous, it should be left t!, the di^oretlon of the Government to impose, for tlie sake of peace, such re.^Wc tions as the general good required. The Cardinal admitted tut public tranquillity was by all means to be preserved, but he con tended that he article did not restrict, eit^her in point of obTec or of time, the power it assigned to the Government • that siic-h imrestricted power was dangerous to the Church ; and herof're some clause should be added to determine more plainly the precise nature and bearing of the authority to be o- ven to he police to regadate public worship. At length he urg^l a ilemm ^ which completely vanquished the commissioners. " I object™ '' says he, '' thus : either the Government is in good faith when if declares the motive which forces it to subject^-eligiou wo.shi o police regula ions to be the necessary maintenance of puWic tranquillity, and in that case it cannot and ouglit not reiW t , assert so much m the article itself; or the Go^ernmen r us to insert such an explanation ; and then it is not in good fa th and clearly reveals that its object in imposing this restricticm o i rehgion is to enslave the Church." le'Tiicnon on Caught between the horns of this dilemma, the commissioners could only say that the explanation required was ah "ady I: tamed in the word jw/ur, police regulations being i„ tbeir ve ly nature regulations directed to secure public order! " T rei.lied '' rontunies the Cardinal, " that thisM-aS not true, at least in every hmgunge; but even supposing it to be trne," .4id I, «' vhe e i^ he ]„rm in explauung it moie clearly, so as to ivmove any mi - ^C^l^l^V^'^T" "^'''- "^^^ }^Vroiuai.nd to the libe^; of ioo f ,'" i? l^ave d.fheulty, it is a sign you are not in " good taith. Pressed more and more by the force of this dilcvmma and unable to extricate themselves, they asked me what advan age do you find in this repetition you^ propose ^'- (for th<>v r.ontiTiiu^fl in l,,.l,l *!,„<- .1. * -, ..• i""i'u»e. ey continued to hold that th sufficiently). " I find in if a v e word po//re expressed it. cry signal advtiutage," replied I ; CARDINAL CONSALVI AXD NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 207 " for by the very fact of restricting in clear and express terms the obligation of making public worship conform to the police regulation, we exclude restriction in every other case, ior mcliish iinius est exclmio (dtcrim. Thus the Church is not made the slave of the lay power, and no principle is sacrificed by the Pope, who, in that case, sanctions only what cannot be helped for neccHsltas non hahet legem.''' ' This reasoning overcame the commissioners, who had no further answer to make. Tt was resolved to add to the article an explanatory phrase which should narrow its meanin^^ and jpreclude the possibility of unfair interpretations in after^davs. The amended article read as follows: "The Roman Catholic Apostolic religion shall be freely exercised in France : its wor- ship shall be public, regard being had, however, to sx:ch police arrangements as the Gorcnimnit shall Judge necemtn/ for tlie pre- servation of the public p)eaee " (quas fjuherniuni pro 'puhlica tran- quilitate neeesmrias exist imahit). The Concordat was thus finally agreed to by the commissioners of the two contracting parties ; and although Bonaparte had declared himself detennined to allow no change to be made, his representatives resolved to sign the document, modified as it was. To this step thev were strongly urged by Joseph Bonaparte, who, with keen 'insight into his brother's character, declared that if before signino- they should again consult Napoleon, he would refuse to 1u-cept the amendment, whereas, if the Concordat were brought to him already completed, he would be reluctant to undo wliiit had been done. Joseph charged himself with the task of eiideavourinopcs lune cYer done • calling to mind that human wisdom is weak at its hoHt—m/ifa- tioues iiio)'f(il!i(iJi fiiii!,l(v ct hwcriw, as he expressed if in his allo- cution— he implored from God light and help to the end that he Jiiig it discoYer which of, the two courses would better promote the lionour and the interests of religion. He set aside all earthl y influences, and refused to take counsel from human moti\e^ lie con Yoked the Sacred College, and laid before it the letters of the Cardinal Legate and of CJardinal Fesch, who, as Frencli Ambassador at Eome, had been charged bYhis Government witli the negotiatio.i. The Cardinals gave their opinion in writin-v and by a majority deelaivd that tlie iiiYitation should be accepted' Ihe Emi)eror had formally pledged his woi-d that the jouriicY would be productive of much good to religion, and it was thou<>li't the 1 o])e could not refuse an invitation so expressed. A refii!*al would throw all the blame of the consequences on theHolvSee, and it was of the last importance tliat no pretext for 'these calumnies should bo afforded to the enemies of that See. Be- sides, all the Catholic powers of Europe, and manv besides, had already recognised the new empire. In addition to these ".cneral reasons, there were two to which special weight was attached Ihe org^nnc laws, and the installation of constitutional bishops who bad not retracted their errors, were two outrages upon re- bgion m France, Avhich caused perpetual grief to tbe Holy lather. The formal promises of Xapoleon, coupled witli the advantage of the Pope's presence in Paris, gave good grounds to hope that these two evils could be remedied if the Emperor's mvitatiou were accepted. It was not thought prudent, howoAer, to accept^ the invitation in the dark, as it wore ; nor did the Emi^cror's verbal promises to the Legate, nor Curdiual Fesch's vague generalities on the good of religion, iusinre confidence MEMOIUS OF MY MINISTUY IIY CAUDIXAI, COXSALVI. 2lo enough. Jleforo the Pope would give his final consent, he di- tenniiicd to reduce to sometliing tangible and obligatory these vague, indefinite promises of the French Government. Cardinal Fesch advised that the Pope should exact, as a condition of his consent, tlie restitution of the three Legations which France had torn from the States of the Church. ]}ut the pure soul of Pius VII. revolted against the idea of admitting any thought of tem- poral advantages: not only did he reject the Cardinal's well- meant suggestion, but positively forbade him ever again to make mention of it. He refused to give his consent unless the French Government would i)roraise to withdraw the organic laws, and to abandon those of the constitutional bishops who should refuse to make a public and sincere retractation. It took four or five montlis of negotiation to extort these promises from Xapoleon. Dui'ing that period Consalvi had daily cont'erenees with Cardinal Fesch, whose Avarm temper frequently led to lively debates. At length ^I. de Talleyrand addressed an official note to the Cardinal Legate, in which it was exin-essly declared that, as to the organic laws, the Emperor would treat directly with the Holy Father, whose representations shotdd be attended to in such a way as to give his Holiness the most complete satisfaction. The Emperor was ready to do even more than the Pope had asked ; and it was insinuated that he would be happy to listen with favour to any requests the Pope should make concerning his temporal interests. Touching the intruded bishops, ;^L de Talleyrand made large promises, but their tenor was so vague that the Holy Father did not remain satisfied until he held in his hand a written promise that the constitutional bishops should make their retractation in the Pope's hands in the form pi'cscribed by him, and that any who might refuse to do so should be forced to resign his see. This point having been arranged, it was thought that the due regard for the majesty of the pontifical dignity demanded soine other precau- tions. The Holy Father felt that he ought not to expose his high office to insult or irreverence, and this consideration urged him to request some information as to the maimer in which he was to be received at Paris by the Emperor. In his reply to the inquiries made on this point, Talleyrand employed these remarkable words: "Between l*ius the Seventh's journey to France, his reception there, his treatment, and the results which are to spring from it, and Pius the Sixth's journej' to Vienna. there shall be as much difference as there is between Xapoleonl. and Joseph II." Another precaution judged necessary by Con- salvi regarded the coronation itself. The later notes of Cardinal Fe!>ch were remarkable for a strange variety of expression. Instead of the word coronation [incoronazione], emjiloyed in the •i. I !i 216 MEMOIRS OF MY MiriSTRV BY CARDINAL CONSALVI. n III f : r 'If Ir m' I I original invitation presented by the CarcHiml Legate in the Emperor s name, the Cardinal I^esch had commenced to use the lord eo>.een,f on (consecrazione). Consalvi at once demanded the reason of this change, and Cardinal Fesch replied : " Ik^ond all doubt, he lope IS to cro^^'n the Emperor; but I be ieve there IS to be a double coronation: one in the Church by the I ope, the other in the Champ de Mars by the Senate." ^ The hhfto si'Sv^o't?; ^'T''^ *' 5^^ ^f ^^*^ '' I*-- --mand^ng . W ^ LTr ^ . }^ Emperor that the Holy Father could not allow- Lis Majesty to be crowned by other hands after he had been crowned by the Pope; that a second ooroimt on woidd bo an insult to the dignity of the Head of the Churcli and that consequently if xt were intended that the Emperoi^hould be twice crowned, the Holy Father would not go ^ o Part t all Talleyrand replied in an official note that the Emperor se ?oo high a value on his coronation by the Pope to wish to rece ve a second diadem from the hands of others The choice of those who were lo form the suite of the Pontift' next came under discussion. The French Government was anxious that the Pope should take with him twelve cardinal TheIIoirFT'^"'^r"'i^f '.^^ «f KomannobT bisLn? if -7 ^T,'"'^^ w *° ^"°^ ^"^y *°"^ ^''^^•di""!^ «nd four bishops, besides the prelates attached to his immediate service suoh as his mayrnordo.o and his maestro influence of one of the ablest defenders of Ilegelian- ism We should exceed our limits were we to enter upon a statement of the principles of these schools. Be it enough to le-Dj!S''S^''vZ2::!'V "'^toirecle ma conversion au Catholioisme. Par wi'J'f^V,^;.^;:;::^^' arriburg; 4,Mu.uoh; 5, Olmutz ; 6,Graetz; 7. f'J>l' uSvSl ''^^^^ '' ^' ?'''^''? ' ,^' ^""- These are called parL otlu.r facnt frre'Proistant t1 " "^ *'" ^^^''^^^ "^ Theology, all the Catholic a„.l\l.ro'thlrtoSsLt''"" ""'' '"' ^'""^"^« °^ ^''-'^S^' °- ^tutgardt;Y3/(Mesn;;'an!ll4H;rlin ' ' ^""'"fe'^" ^ H. Krlangen; 12. Ii&ec Farrar's Cntlr,,! H;,tor>, of Fro T/wwj/<(, p. 390. THE HISTORY OF A COXVERSIOX. 221 say that the first-named school, by defending the authority and credibihty of the Scriptures, aims at reconstructing the his- torical basis of Christianity, and insists on a return to the Lutheran Confessions of the sixteenth century. Since the pohtical troubles of 1848, an ultra-conservative party, called the Hyper-Lutheran, has arisen within this school, which p-oes back bej'ond the Reformation, and insists on the principle of a visible authoritative church, a rigid sacramental theory, and the doc- trine of consubstantiation. Stahl, and Leo of Halle, to whom Dr. Laemmer makes an important allusion, to be hereafter quoted, belong to the most advanced of this party. Amoii-.- the representatives of this school, with whom Dr. Laemmer°was brought into direct contact, were Hengstenberg and Kahnis * The Mediation school takes its stand between the Lutheran party on the one hand, and the school of criticism on the other and without going back to the principle of authority, or forward to that of discovery, proposes to unite the use of reason with belief m bcripture, and to understand what it believes Of the members of this very numerous school Dr. Laemmev had inter- course with Twesten and :N' itzch. The Tiibingen school had for Its leader Christian Baur, and, starting from the principle that the only portions of the New Testament undoubtedly genuine are four of St. Paul's Epistles, viz. : to the Romans, to the Gala- tians, and the two to the Corinthians, it comes to the conclusion that Christianity m its present form is the result of the contro- versy between the Jewish, or Petrine, and the Pauline Christi- ^f^y of the apostolic and following ages. All the other books of the :New Testament it attributes to some one or other of the contending schools. That this school, extravagant as its con- clusions may appear to us, is every day gaining ground in France with a very numerous party, we have been lately assured bv competent authority.f That it has many advocates in England is well known.J A critic in the Home and Foreign ie?nV«S speaks of " the importance of those inquiries of Dr Baur and his followers into primitive Christianity, which have in some way modified the views of almost everyone who has become acquainted with them." These are thy gods, Israel ! These are the shapes of Pro- testantism that wander to and fro in the various universities of Germany. Dr. Laemmer, speaking with full knowled2 IHB HISTORY OF A CONVERSION. s ••n subject, sums up m one word tlie result of all this imhealtliv movement, and that word h-clmo,. And what heightens the coniusion is, that although the systems which form this chaos are m absolute and perpenial conflict with each other, yet does eacb professor claim for himself the exclusive possession of truth as if he and he alone, had been gifted with infallibility, ihe special feature of Dr. Laemmer's conversion appears to us to consist m_ this, under the grace of God, that he approached faith through its^ historic side. Sound and conscientious his- torical rcseaix-h has been the means of his deliverance from bondage JIis mind from boyhood inclined towards things grave ; the detai s he communicates concerning his choice of authors reveal that sobriety of judgment which is the first quality ot a student of history. The bent of his mind in this direction was strengthened by study of the Fathers, of the his- torv of the_ Papacy, and of the Catholic theology of the Eefor- niation period. We invite special attention to the happy result ot historical studies in his case, because we see in it a promise ot much future good for Catholic truth in Germauv. The broad distinction between the German method of the present century and that of the past hes m this, that the nineteenth centurv is the age of histoncal inquiry, whereas the last century was that ot critical thought. Lven the Tubingen school is an improve- ment on the destructiveness of Strauss, for it admits and caUs attention to the historical value of at least some portion of the bcriptures. In the other schools above described this tendency IS of course still more marked. The modern spirit tends not so much to examine the ontological value of an opinion as to in- vestigate how men came to hold that opinion. It was this spirit which suggested the questions of concursus which, as we shall see, changed the current of Dr. Laemmer's life, ^^ow we hold It very probable th-t as this spirit becomes more extended Its iriuts wil be these: men will become familiar with the teachings of Christian antiquity; and although this hnowledoo may be sought not for the sake of the doctrine itself, but as a preliminary to other studies, still such is the divine power of truth, that, once revealed to the soul, it creates therein a won- drous craving after itself which will dispose Xho soul for the grace of faith. There must be at this moment many thoughtful men in Germany who, in virtue of this spirit, are engaged in the examination of the fathers and of the theologians of the Catholic C hurch, and who, finding themselves, like Dr. Laemmer. between the ruins caused by Protestantism and the unbroken stiength of Cathohc teaching, are even now turning their eves towards Rome, therein to seek her who was their mother THE HISTORY OF A ( ONVERSION. 223 Hugh Laemmer was bom of a Protestant father and a Catho- lic mother, at Allenstein, in Eastern Prussia, on 25th January IS'io. His mother was a woman of most fervent piety, who in almost unceasing prayer, sought and found consolation under her many severe atflictions. It was not given her to exercise much influence over the mind of her son, who, long before her death, luid gone to reside with his father's relatives, by whom he was brought up as a Protestant. The lad, nevertheless, had a tender love for his mother,, and from his earliest years was conscious of an indescribable leaning towards his Catholic friends in preference to his Protestant kindred. This feeling was the natural growth of observations made by the quick-witted boy regarding the piety, firm principles, and good conduct of the Catholics. At the same time, the devotion of the faithful in their processions and pilgrimages served to put him on his guard against the bigoted prejudices which his Lutheran cousins ever sought to instil into his mind against their Catholic neio-h- Ijours. When, with the other schoolboys, he went to church (lU Sunday, the sermon made no impression on him, and no w onder, for the preacher carried with him into the pulpit the chilling rationalistic principles he had imbibed at the univer- sity. Even in those early years the boy's heart tended to- wards the beautiful and spacious Catholic Church of his native town. Once, when his father took him to Heilio-cnlind (a famous resort of pilgrims), and the old sacristan Showed him the rare treasures of the church, he experienced an emotion so strong that it survived even the rude trials of his cifter life. In LS44 he entered the gymnasium of Kosnigsbero-. He brought with him from home a good stock of elementary and grammatical knowledge, and soon discovered that his tastes inclined him to the study of literature more than to that of science. Klleiidt, then rector of the gymnasium, was a man who possessed, in a remarkable degree, the power of makino- his lectures interest' g to his pupils. Explained by such a master. Homer and Herodotus became in a short time the favourite authors of M. Laemmer, who, on the other hand, had no taste for what he calls " the tedious narratives of the Ana- basis, and the pedantic tirades of the Cyropajdia." He preferred Caesar and Livy to Cicero, whose johilosophy especially he found to be commonplace. Modern French literature had no attractions for such a mind as his ; the contemporary^ romance writers of that nation excited even his disgust. As <">ermany is considered by many to be the very home of perfection in classical studies, it will be interesting to hear the opinion Dr. Lacnuuer's experience has led him to form concorning the I I f;:^iiJ 224 THE HISTORY OF A COXVEUSION. '• i; ^'. I M •r- special dangers which beset middle school education at the present day : — ,S-^ 'jclievc it to be a mistake," ho says, "to make modern lan-ua-es, matlie- natics, and the physical sciences occuijy very much of the time appointed for the study of the clas-..s ; and. as far as middle ' lass instruction is concerned, given m the new educational plan to the wise ,,rinciple, non mwta, s,d multum. It IS highly dangerous to the young to distribute tlieir faculties simultaneously ^/o^f-"'''"! heterogeneous branches of knowledge. Ubiiw. Imp,',, mmimul ta; such a system is the sure patJi to that half-learning which, without ging a thorough knowledge of anything, encourages young men to talk pre- knSXe ^Wl?.f h'* °^ «"bjectsof whichthey htavebut the barest surface a H n V f;. nf ! '^ ^'^""' n'^'"" J^i^ examination papers exact from students a knowledge of science as well as of literature, physics, chemistry, natural his- S; T ' '^;-*^"''"/ ^'T'^'^^ °^ mathematics ? It is a well-known fact that, with the exception of a few intended for certain professions, youn-men are careful to forget as .soon after examination as they 'can tlie infonnatb it has cost them so much l.bour to acquire. Against this it is vain to urge the im- portance which the i-.tural sciences have nowadays attained to. an importance so great that no one, save at his peril, can remain a stranger to them ; for on no account sliould we furnish new weapons to materialism. At most, it is required t at students s^jou d be supplied with such elemental- inforniation as may enable them in the future to keep in sight the true bearings of things, and in creatures recognise Him who is proclaimed in the first article of the Creed. I hat extravagant cultivation of the natural sciences, so often substituted by our ministers m place of the lessons of Holy Writ, is as perilom as is the undue exaltation of man and of man's pretended victories over nature. The laws of nature have never acknowledged any master save one-our Lord Jesus Christ i'^gaty'"(p."i3)! ^ '''^'°'" '* ^'''' P^^'''^'^ ^"" *° ^^'""'^ ^"' ^°^^- Whether the authorities at the gymnasium shared these views or not we are not in a position to state. One thing, however, IS certain : much attention was paid there to the study of the German language and literature; much of our student's time was passed m the excellent library of German authors provided for the use of the scholars. What an eventful moment tliat is lu which a youth, m the flush of the early vigour of his mind finds himself for the first time in a library where the treasures of human thought are gathered before him clothed in the lan- guage he has learned from his mother's lips ! Then be"-ins for him that daily contact of mind with the mind of other.s" which will infallibly colour for good or evil the history of his future lie who, without an enlightened and friendly guid<^ adventures inexperienced upon this commerce, "Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone," runs no little risk of being caught unawares by error where his generous ardour looked only for truth. In the world of books as m the world of men, evil lies very close to good, and wears Its garb and mien ; and how shall the inexperience of youth be able to see through the disguise, or how avoid becoming captive THE HISTORY OF A CONVERSION. 225 to Its snares ? And from such captivity, how harassing the toil ot escape ! Of that toil let him make light who has never had experience of the almost ceaseless influence erroneous principles exercise on the mind with whose growth they have grown From reading Newton on the Prophecies in 181G, Dr. Newman^ then a boy of fifteen, became convinced that the Pope was Anti- christ ; and his imagination was stained by the effects of this doctrine up to the year 1843.* Nor did M. Laemmer come iiway safe. His random reading brought him both good and evil, so intermingled each with each, that his unripe judf>ment could no more discern between them than the hand can dlsioiu the sunshine from the shadow that follows after it. After ran- sacking the bulk of German literature, he selected from out the rest certain writers to be his prime favourites. The choice he made reveals at once the bent of his mind, and the dano-ers to which that very bent exposed him. The schools of German poetry and taste are divided, in Vilmar's History of German Litemfure, into five classes. First, that which preceded Lessinc^ subdivided into the Saxon school, and the Swiss school of Wie-' land m his early manner, to which was akin the Gottinc^en school of Klopstock and Voss ; second, that of Lessint^ and 'the writers influenced by him ; third, the Weimar schooC with its three great names. Herder, Goethe, and Schiller ; fourth, the later schools, the romantic, represented by the two Schle'o-els Novalis, and the patriotic ; fifth, the modern school of reao'tion agamst absolute government, headed by H. Heine. Of these schools only the second and third gave M. Laemmer delio-ht There was a hidden sympathy between the qualities of his own mind and the exquisite critical genius and reasoning power of Lessmg, which made him find the writers of the first class msipid and trivial. He came under the influence of Lessin^ to a remarkable degree ; and if to that influence he owes the gain of an important truth, to it must be attributed also his accept- ance of a most fatal error. That remarkable man, author or as It now appears, editor of the WolfenhiHtd Fragments, in con- sequence of that publication, had a warm controversy with the Lutheran pastor, Goze, in which he forcibly showed, bv histori- cal arguments chiefly, that the principle of the Bible and notlvnn hut the Bible, was illogical and false. M. Laemmer followed the course of the controversy, and found to his dismay that the arguments of Lessing had brought home to him the con\-iction that Lutheranism rested on a false basis. This was a great gain ; but it was counterbalanced by a great loss. The ardour ot his youthful admiration blinded him to the dangerous prin- ' Apo^ojia p. 63. 16 .•1' I III 226 THE HISTORY OF A CONVERSION. I'lH I I ciples of indifPerentism and doubt contained iu his master's works, and particularly in his Education of the World. The third Fragment sets it forth as impossible that all men shoidd be^ brought to believe revelation on rational groimds. These principles, destructive of all faith and certainty in belief, were adopted by the young student, and warmly defended by him in a special dissertation. Towards the end of his course he devoted himself to the study of Herder ; and here again vague reading brought to him gain and loss, truth and falsehood together. He learned from this writer to believe in the mysterious action of Providence in the world ; but the view he was led to form of the di\iue plan was confined, superficial, and vague. He also gave much time to the reading of Schiller, in whose works he found an assaidt onthe frigid deism then predominant in Germany. But the deity which that poet brought so near to men was not the Blessed Trinity, but the gods of Olympus ; and whilst his strains rebuked the philosophy which never rose above the laws of gravity, he himself did but serve the cause of epicureanism by his praises of the pleasures of the earth. From Goethe M. Laemmer learned to ajipreciate, in some measure, the Sacraments of the Church, and to think kindly of the Church itself. But what solid advantage could he gain from the man who wrote to Lavater of the chief gospel miracles that " he held them for blasphemies against the great God and his revelation in nature ?" The reader will have observed that this course of reading made several important additions to M. Laemmcr's relio-ious views. And yet the books among which his reading lav wore either not at all, or not directly religious. We are now'to in- quire how far his ideas were modified by any directly religious training. _ _ The answer to this question opens up such a view of the condition of Protestantism in the country of its birth as well deserves our careful study. Let M. Laemmer tell us what fruits it has produced at Koenigsberg. First of all, in the various schools where he resided during his stay in that town there was no common practice of religion : the religious exercises of the gymnasium were limited to the singing of a few stereotyi}ed chants. The religious instruction of the students was attended to by an aged professor, who was one of the leaders of the Free- masons, and whose religion was the religion of pure reason. He was assisted in the religious training of the students by a younger man, whose doctrines were kindred with his own, and whose lectures, though erudite, were arid. Fortunately for himself, M. Laemmer had learned from his mother the habit of night and morning prayer. This habit he retained, although THE HISTORY OF A CONVERSIOX. 227 for want of fixed principles it became a work of mere routine. Such was the state of religion in the gymnasium. In the city itself things were still worse. From the orthodox Lutheranism of Superintendent Sartorius down to the absolute Eationalism of Rupp, every intermediate stage of error had its exponents and followers in the city of Kant. In the eves of Sartorius, Catholicism, which he knew only from Luther's caricatures' stood on the same level with nationalism ; he assigned to the Confession of Augsburg almost the same authority which Catho- lics claim for tradition, and, together with Uaur, Nitsch, and \V mer, made an unsuccessful attempt to refute Moehler's S>/m. hoUm. Kupp, on the other hand, denounced all symbols, even that of St, Athanasius, which he declared to be incompatible with Christian doctrine ; his system was based on Indilferentism of the lowest kind, and conceded to women as well as to men the right of deliberating and of teaching in religious matters. And yet these two men, so diametrically ojoposed to each other" m doctrine, preached for a timo in the same church and from the same pulpit. And, whilst Sartorius, who revered Luther as a man of God, preached to empty benches, Rupp found assembled aromid him a crowded audience, composed of the highest as wgW as the lowest in the land. The different churches at Kconigsberg had preachers of every shade of doctrine. Durino- the course of his studies ]\I, Laemmer made trial of them all^ but found not satisfaction in any. At length, in the midst of tliis Babel, he became acquainted with the man who was destined to exercise a most salutary influence on his life. That man was Lehnerdt, Superintendent-General of the province of Saxony. IJorn in Brandenburg, and educated at Berlin, in the school of Schleiermacher and Ilcgel, he escaped the pernicious influence of his masters by u profound course of historical studies. On the one hand, he combated the rationalistic exegesis of Paidus, and, on the other, devoted himself with all his might to the study of the Fathers, lie was a man of great piety ; and, in preparing M. Laemmer for confirmation, spoke with such unction of Gpd and the world, man and sin, Christ and salva- tion, that his words wrought in the young student's soul a blessed reaction. An intimate and affectionate relationship sprang up between the two which was interrupted m the middle of 1851 by Lehnerdt's departure for Berlin, where he succeeded Xcandcras professor of history, but was resumed a^aiu ut a later period in that city. ° M. Laenmier passed from the gymnasium to the university of Kocnigsberg at Easter, 1852. He remained there but one year, during which time he acted as secretary to Voigt, whose able lUdorij of Greijorij VII. was the beginning of a new epoch k M Y i 228 THE HISTOUY OF A COXVERSIOX. I -,l I) iU for ecclesiastical history in Germany. One of the professors of philosophy was Rosenkranz, the pupil and biographer of Ilegel. This able man was an eloquent partisan of Hegelianism, and^by the poetic colouring he contrived to throw around its doctrines, exercised an extraordinary influence over the youtli of the uni- versity. M. Laemmer tells us that, during a fever which at this time brought him to death's door, one of his keenest regrets was his inability to attend Rosenkranz's lectures. He made up for his absence from lecture by a careful study of his professor's writings, and completely adopted the views expressed therein. It was long before he was able to shake off the yoke of Hesjel- ianism which he then assumed. In the university Biblical literature was treated altogether from the rationalistic point of vicAV. One of the fruits of this method is the isolated and in- dependent study of various parts of Sacred Scripture. " It was reserved for Protestantism," says M. Laemmer, " to cultivate in minute detail what is called Biblical Theology, and to write volumes upon the doctrine of such and such an apostle in par- ticular. . . . This anatomical process, this study of atoms, has led many to apply those fine theories to various periods of Church history, and, like certain heretics of the Middle Ao-es to speak of the Christianity of St. Peter, and of the Christianity of St. Paul, not excluding by any means that of St. John '" (pp. 47, 48). At the Easter of 1853, M. Laemmer passed from the univer- sity of Ka^nigsberg to that of Leipsic, on a burse founded in the old Catholic times by a Catholic priest of his native town. His departure from Koonigsberg marks the close of the first perio' ^ his university career, and it will be interesting to stop and .„. a comprehensive view of the phases of thought through which he passed during that time. As far as religious opinions are concerned, this first stage of his life may be subdivided into two periods : one of demolition, the other of reconstruction In the former he lost his belief in Lutheranism and its central doctrine of the Bible ami notliimj hut the Bible ; that is to sav he lost hold of the only dogmatic princiiDle he held. Bein*^ thus deprived of v fixed belief, he was more open to the action of Lessmg's principles of universal tolerance, which amounted to the coldest indifPerentism and doubt. These principles he made his own for a season. The spectacle of division and dis- cord which was exhibited daily under his eyes at Kamio-sberr> helped to complete the work of destruction. Even his very prayer became a dry form, lacki'xg all influence for good. The period of reconstruction commenced with the friendship that bound him to Lohuerdt, by whose influence were sown in his mind the seeds of a reaction, which, bv the play of intellectual THE HISTORY OF A CONVERSION, 229 as well as moral causes, was afterwards developed into the ful- ness of Catholic belief. The intellectual cause that led to this happy result was, as we said before, the spirit of historical in- quiry; the moral cause, under God's grace, was the deep religious sentiment which formed part of his original character, and which, once aroused by Lehnerdt's words about justice and the judg- ment to come, never allowed any antagonism of feeling to stand long in the way of his acceptance of the truth. Not that the action of these causes was at all times unimpeded. The Ilegelianism which he imbibed from Rosenkranz for a long time seriously crippled his mind in its exertions after truth. In these dispositions M. Laemmer came to the University of Leipsic. Among the professors at Leipsic Winer was, beyond doubt, the most remarkable. His labours on the idioms of the New Testament Greek, his lexicological and bibliographical works, and even his reply to Moehler's Sj/mholivn, with all their defects, give proof of solid study. But he permitted himself in his lectures to launch sarcasms against the rites of the Catholic Church. Indirectly he was the occasion of much good to M. Laemmer, who read Moehler's and other Catholics' works, in order to test the statements advanced by Winer. It was Winer, too, who first suggested to him the idea of devoting himself to teaching in the university. Tischendorf, so famous for his studies on the Bible texts, and Wachsmuth, who has rendered immense services to truth by his Koman history, written in re- futation of Niebuhr, were among the professors whose courses he followed at Leipsic. Two resolutions tt>ken at this period by M._ Laemmer reveal the gradual change which was taking place in his convictions owing to the action of the causes men- tioned above. _ First, he determined to assist no longer at the lectures of Theile, on account of his grosslv rationalistic treat- ment of the doctrine of the Word in the Epistles of St. John. Theile died shortly after. " He was a man of rectitude," says j\r. Laemmer, "and conscientious; I cannot think of him with- out a feeling of deep sorrow. You might read on his brow the painful and fruitless efforts he had made to attain to the fulness of truth and to that peace which the world cannot give" (p. 65). Daily more and more disgusted with rationalism, and wearied with ineffectual efforts to reconcile the contradictions which everywhere appeared in theology, he now began to entertain serious thoughts of confining himself exclusively to philosophical studies. But these thoughts were put to flight on occasion of his first sermon, which he preached in a suburban village where one of his friends was pastor. The subject of the sermon was charity, as described by St. Paul ; and its treatment had the v\ ■i I m -m: 230 THE HISTORY OF A CONVK RSIOX. I I ■1 effect of revivinor m the preacher's heart his old love for voUmom questions. He was now approaching the crisis of l.is life. While he was bewildered by the endless variations of Protestantism, and endeavouring to form out of them a religious system sucli as would satisfy his reason and conscience, the first ivavs of the grace ot taith began to dawn more nearly upon his "-• ;i In what manner this came to pass wo shall allow himself '. . tell :— r.r.l}^''^ ''^^°''^ *''''^* '^"•''"" '"y »*<'*y ^^ I-'-'ipsic the study of a question nr.j- posedfor concursus cxerciscMl a powerful influence on .uy^^ehV^, view a I that to It ,s to be attributed n.y first step towards C\atholS The ubi "et chosen for the concursus of 1854, by tlie Lipsic Faculty of Tl?^olo^' w^ \ho exposition of the .loctrine of Cleme.it of Alex-andria on the Vord Thi t h. e X'dTi' '"' " '""'* VV"^ impression. At once, and witlTgVeat iov I o- TI o *fl-'\'-'°"\", "" f'^l'^te. I will now state the motives of This ilsolve The conflicting theological systems which I had ol^ervod both in books 1 id SrsrSainst Painit ':''' •"/ ^''r°''' ' '"'''^terpiece of Chri/tia^ eont ,? .-f! 1 M^ ? 9n."'**',"' ''°"'^''^'^^<^'' 1" Its popu ar nivtholo"v it« nretrv a.ul n aSS'i'^rtSt o "f/'^r"' "''r" f'^atechuiLns. ^1; iVefl^'f ,;i " Fat! er-whr h.^l^ f i *'"? '"i''' °"'y ^^astei-tho Eternal AVord of the fi ti r'^medv V,-f 1 T'u "■'* °"" ""^S'^' ^^-''^ •'^1°"« '^an provide a oftle\artlTeaithIv V tT fl"^ who. though man had become Stier in tho ;,r'- • V''aM '^'^i^ were, witliout doubt, connected to° unity o his system. It is the Vyord wliieh tenderly inv'tes man wldd in drl ill V "^'.'"'^'V" '■ '"^' ^''"^ *''° i'l'^a of tlie AVord embraces in one sane circle all philosophy, dogmatic as well as moral " (pp. 85, SS). The monograpli on Clement of Alexandria was prefaced b^' prolegomena, containing a .'^ketch of Clcinenrs life, an analysis ot nis clootniio, and an inquiry into the historical sources of' his doctrine on the Word. For this the author had to examine the lelahon m which Clement stood in pliiln.ophv and theology to- wards classical antiquity, Alexandrine Juda^isni, the Apostolic THE HISTORY OF A CO^'^■ERSIOX. 231 Fathers, and the first Christian apologists. The subject proper of the essay was divided into two parts : the first treated of the relations of the "Word with God ; the second considered the Woid as the Revealer. The work was well received by the faculty of theology, and its author was declared the successful candidate, 31st of October, 1854. By the advice of Winer and others, and by the kindness of Tischendorf, it was published in March, 1855. Wacksmuth, dean of the faculty of philosophy, advised M. Laemmer to stand his examination" for the doctor- ship ir philosophy, and backed his advice by the offer of a burse to enable him to meet the expenses. The young student ob- tained this degree after having presented a dissertation on the religious philosophy of Clement of Alexandria, and having passed a successful examination. "We have seen that M. Laemmer qualifies this episode in his studies as the first step he made towards Catholicity. It may be asked, what was the special fruit derived by him from these patristic studies ? The answer is, that it enabled him to shake off the influence of the Tiibingen theories, which had hitherto held sway over his mind. The whole work of that school simply amounts to an attempt to submit to the nli-powerful action of critical caprice the canon of Scripture and the most remarkable works of Christian antiquity, and to affirm all their own theories as indisputable facts, while they treat as fables the most autlientic facts of history. Now, the more clearly it is proved that the historical origin of Christianity 's able to resist the crucial tests to which it has been submitted, the more shadowy and incon- sistent do these capricious theories become. Hence, the study undertaken by M. Laemmer did in reality, b}- occupying him with the objective side of patristic teaching, most powerfully contribute to destroy in his mind the authorit}' of Baui', Ililgcu- feld, and the others of the Tiibingen school. 8oon after the publication of his work, M. Laemmer was in- vited to the University of Berlin by his kind friend Lelmerdt, who had never lost sight of his promising pupil, and now wished him to prepare himself for a professor's chair by a solid course of theologico-historical studies. On arri^■ing at Berlin the j'outh- ful doctor of philosophy was appointed to hold for two years the Evangelical Centenary Burse, founded by the city of Berlin in commemoration of the three hundredth anniversary of the Refor- mation. After .'lis conversion many persons demanded that he should make restitution to the burse fund, which, according to them, he had em oloyed against the intentions of the foimders. "But (asks Mr. Laemmer), for what reasons was I chosen in preference to the other cuiulidates ? 1 contunted myself with presenting my memoir on the Alexauarine Clement's doctrine on the Word ; the examiners of the Leipsic -I, ;l ^ J 1 H Ml 232 THE HISTOHY OF A CONVEUslOX. . that I haci applied mvself to t\TJ\^ )' f"^°r8'* °*'"^'' «''*"erin« things, ine to the other can.Sos an 1^^ *''° committee preferred inspirations of God's grLe Jed .L"" o see th^ tr'.,^ ^''?'^ accurately, the secret Losom of the true Church If instead I Ll,„.n '^ to betake myself to the murmur of complaint wo Id not havoll^nK^'r ""^''^"'-'^■«'' "^e slightest of Catholicism, LS tl f most honev '? nff '^ ' i*""* '"''"" *'"^^'^ '« 'i^^stion grossest infi.lel ty : tl^ KreanoLtX^nl £ ^^ '"*''"' '°'"'"°:' '^""'^ ^"t^ the mighty foe " (ppf 105, lOG) "" *'°'"''''''* ^'°''^ '^t'''^'"^' *'"-' We cannot linger over the account given by M Laemmer nf the different tendencies he found in the theoLical SX of Union* 'bum/'" P^-AV^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ P^o^ecfro \e I: ?n .1. ,"* *l'® '^''*°^® ^^ Hengstenbergt is so well known fn most Catholics that the description given of hin'byone whohls known hnn so well is sure to excite interest. ^ bro:gi;inX;tnt;?Ll?;r,f:*;'^^^ had a^uired by his numerous works pointed professor -It Berlin tl,^! ^ ® ''''y' ?"'^ '™^ immediately an- energies l^ai.?st th mioSst^^^ -^^^ and author he Lent afl iL Scriptures had produced such lisn.Snfr' m^^^<^^tion oi Mluch to the Holy that: in this respec , he h^ rouH b ckrnr"'"'- ^* '""-^^ "^^ '^'''"i«^'l his contemnorar es : 'tl„f ?. u^^k^^J^T^'' ^"'"«'- ^™y« » '^^'tain number of 1' ftr "outicalaudtu;;^cdm3e 'Zn " ^'"V"^^^^^^ ^i''-^ "f his harm mothod for one alCtlo litfj^tent " ''''" ''''^^'^' '^''andoned his ass.rredly l„^s most character t^cwoJk ";^, ^'""""'f «'-.r ,«." '^"' -f/'om///;... i. THE HISTORY OF A CONVERSION. 233 laving himself open to the charge of Catholic tendencies, and could but be silent when reproached by Schen&el. who told liim that Romanism was more honourable tlian the vacillating and intermediate position he had assumed. He resembles Stehl, Kliefoth, and others, who would wish to place in the same setting the jewels of Catholicism and those of Wittemberg ; who rank together the theo.-y nothhui hut the. Bible and the principle of authority ; who are but half acquainted with Luther, and almost ignorant of Rome ; who, in spite of tlieir pretended adhesion to principle, would be disjiosed to all kinds of com- promises ; who lack the courage and the humility requisite to comprehend that tlie fragments of truth possessed by Luther have been borrowed from the immense and indivisible treasure of the Church. The Church has nothing to hope from men of this class: they lack a thorough and absolute thirst for truth; they are self-complacent; they imagine themselves to have received Irom heaven an extraordinary mission like the prophets ; they assume the ridit to dictate to the infallible authority of the Church ; to satisfy them we must l.ecome eyncretists, and ask them what is it their pleasure that the Catliolic « luircJi sliould modify in its doctrines, its ceremonies, and its discipline; men oJ hne phrases, and not of action ; more of show than of reality " (p. 1 17). During his residence at Berlin 31. Laemmer entered upon a careful preparation for the degree of doctor of divinity. He devoted himself more and more to the study of the Fathers • the works of St. Hilary of Poitiers on the Trinity left him an humhle arid firm believer in that august mystery. In 1856, his mmd received a fresh and more decided impulse in the direction of the Church. In that year the Berlin faculty of theology gave as the subject of the concursus, Give an exposition {from the documents) of the Roman Catholic doctrine contained in the memorial presented to Charles V. at the Diet of Aayshiinj, in as far as it appears to throw ii(/ht on the true Evamjelieal doctrine set forth in the Auyshurg Confession. This subject was chosen for the concursus by Lehnerdt, who felt that Catholic theoloo-v, from the beginning of the Reformation to the Council of Tren't, was almost entirely unknown. M. Laemmer, having resolved to become one of the competitors, at once set about the neces- sary study. He first examined the Protestant confessional books m order to fix the points at issue between them and their ad- versaries. If he were to trust these authorities, nothing could be clearer than the stupid ignorance of the Catholics, and the ^\^sdom of the Protestants. But the declamation with which this was urged appeared to him to be the language of passion. He determined to learn from their own writings the character of the Catholic theologians so soundly abused by their opponents. He first examined the Official refitation of the yiiit/sLiirq Confes- sion, the joint work of the flower of the Catholic theologians, Eck,_ Faber, AVimpina, &c. , next he came to the various works published by them, before and after 1530, against the various successive developments of Protestiintism ; then came the Grer- man theology of Berih(;id Chierasie , tiie Confession of Cardinal Hosius; Erasmus; Tetzel ; Henry VIII.; Fisher, Bishop of r J if ! I ilf 234 THE HISTORY OF A COXVElliSION. < S l.[ ■ ■ -1 ^i I 1 j;^ If [-.ft I 4 ', ,*i. • i; III rtochestor ; Ambrosius Catharinus ; the Sorbonne ; Sacloletus • tontarini ; the minutes of the conferences held at that epoch in Germany and SwitzerLand; the pontifical instructions in Rainaldi and Leplat ; and last, the acts of the imperial Diet, as far as they touched on religious and ecclesiastical questions. In all he had to study seventy Catholic works of the period. . "God knows," he tells us, " how I was moved as I read them and lini.- violent were the straggles in which I was engaged. I endeavour do vcHZ force of the arguments befor.. me, but I could not. I would not perm t myself to call in question that great axiom of Protestants, tliat the Reformation w.l right and necessary Tlie humility required to correspond wiSi t^e S grace was wanting to me ; scientific pride still insisted on its pretem ed °.d ts I ha.l only arnved so far as to understand that the opinions p oimince v t reormerson their adversaries were frequently partial, erroneous an 1 m.i vo ent : that the intellectual power of these latter wafnot so co emSb e as" It had been represented ; and iinally. that their principles ha.l l°ee n S^^^^^^^ travestied at the pleasure of the fathers of I'rotestantLn " (p. m'. *''''i^"'"y Haying completed his study of these sources, he arranged his materials in the following order : the first chapter treated of the Church, the Primacy, the Scripture, Tradition, the Councils • the second, of the state of innocence, of the fall, of orio-inal sin and Its consequences; the third, of free-will and grace: the fourth, of justification, of the fulfilment of the law, and of the evangelical counsels ; then came the sacraments in qenvve et in Wcic; finally, the saints and the worship due to them The title of his manuscript was De Thcoloyia Rommio-CafhoUm qnw hctopmtorum aiatc mjuit, ante-Tridentin.i. The work was suc- cessful, and received high praise from the faculty of t]lcoloo•^- It was said, however, that the author was too iinpartial-;^/;;;/^ .mtm-Xo^^■avdH Catholicism. This qualification was added at the request of Ilcngstenberg, wlio did not Mco too well the favourable notice given of Catholic writers. And vet, notu-ith- standing all this, Dr Lacmmer was still far from being a Catho- lic. _ He himself tells us that at most he had arri^x^d at the position held by Leo. On the 3rd of August, 1856, he received the prize, and had the satisfaction of learning at the same time that his memoir was accepted as the dissertation required for the licence In a few days he passed the viqoro.nn^, and in the saine nioiith made his public disputation, taking for the theme of his introductory discourse St. 15eriiard's work, De Considvra- twnc. Jle received his licence, and immediately left Berlin foi the country to recruit his shattered healtli. In the country he preached frequently, wrote an analysis of G. Voi<''t's Fiti^s II and Jus Ayr, and a dissertation on the doctrine of "justification hold by the Catholic theologian, Contarini, in which he now admits he was mi^^faken as to his estimate of tlie .ciillmeuts of tliat divine. Returning to Berlin witli renewed health, he was ' n. ''^1 THE HISTORY OF A COKVERSIOX. 235 appointed to give religious instruction, and to teacli Hebrew in the Frederic Gymnasium. It must have been a difficult task for one perplexed in mind, as M. Laemmer was, to undertake the religious instruction of a body of young men at the very doors of the University of Berlin.* Among his youthful hearers he found open infidelity, rationalism, the doctrines of Schleier- macher, pietism, confossionalism, in one word, each class was a miniature copy of the Trotestant world around. But he did not swerve from the path of duty. He boldly set before them, as the central truth of religion, the Man-God dying on the cross for the world. In vain did his hearers bring forward the pre- tended results of modern criticism, and natural explanations of supernatural facts ; M. Laemmer insisted with energy upon the credibility and the inspiration of Sacred Scriptures, and on the miracles and prophecies narrated in them. He also made it his duty to lead his charge to love and practise praj-er. In spite of their resistance, he obliged even the higlicr classes to recite the Decalogue and the Apostles' Creed ; and he was consoled by seeing his firmness rewarded by the happiest results. At Easter, 1857, he passed his examination for the doctor's degree, having chosen for the subject of his theme Pope Nicholas I. and the Court of Byzantium. Again he was successful : Lchnerdt, to whom he had dedicated his thesis, observed to him with great gentleness that he was not far from Ilurter's idea of the Papacy. And in truth this last labour had brought him much nearer to the Church by reason of the brilliant light it cast on the cha- racter and office of the Papacy in Christianitv. In 1857 he found time to publish a new edition of St. Anselm's Cio- Dni-s Ifoiiw, and to write a paper on the conversion of Herman of Kap- penburg. In June, 1858, he revised for the press his treatise on the ante-Tridentine theology. In preparing the revision he made a study of modern Catholic works on history, dogma, moral and canon law. He became familiar with the Ponian Breviary, to whicli his attention had been called by the attempt made by a Protestant minister to form a Lutheran Breviary. He also read and admired Cardinal "Wiseman's Fahiola. " I now understood the Sfcmomrc and the Sub tiium ; I began to recite tlie Are Moria, to sahite together with the angel tlic ]\Iother of my (^od, to .seek her compassion, tiiat she might olitain for nie grace to l)e comiiletely enlight- ened, and to enter into the .Saviour's one fold. Tiie stin^r of doulit tormented me unceasingly ; on my knees, ))cfore my crucifix in my "lonelv chamber, I ex- perienctd the most painful struggles. As I had ever preserved such fragments of Christian truth as the Keformers had spared, and as for many Ions years J had occupied myself with tiie solution of the leading questions in pfulosopliy and thenlfijjy, it niipeare'l to nie viiy I'.ard. to siduuit my nasnn t" tho yoke of faith. But prayer removed all tiiesc olistacles, and when, soon after. I r\iinc to lock at the door of tiie Church, I found it easy to assent to all the truths that I I kl were proposed to my belief " ( p. 1G.3} 236 THE HISTORY OF A CONVERSION. With many other Protestants, he assisted at the exercises of a mission given at Berlin by the Jesuit Fathers, and reaped Jrorn th? -"} ^T^'' J^ -^^^^ ' ^^^^' ^'' '''^^'^'^ permission from the minister of worship to explore the libraries ol^Germanv WhTboT ^fHi ^""•''' ^"^^ n^anuscripts of EuseS a^ inight be found with a view to a new revision of the text of Sila mT"- fir^'f "-r^"' ^^^«^-' V-«- Vel: I'adua Milan and Munich. At Dresden, Wolfgano- 4 Goethe took him to be a Catholic priest. At Venice he\et\1?hF Ignazio Mozzoni, of the Order of St. John of God author of ^ remarkable history of the Church, and was edmod by the piety and the literary activity of the Melchitansts. The inte- g^urse he had with Catholic ecclesiastics, and the sfght ^f telTs us"i impressions. Among other details he rPUHLl'^'iV"^''^'" ^"T* " ''^''*''''" ^""'^^ Dominican, the very type of a perfect His scientific mission was finished ut Munich, whither he returned from his long journey still a Protestant. But the end wor7s •- ' '"" '""'''^ ^"''''' ^'"^ *^ ^"'""^^ '^ "^ 1^^« 0^^ THE HISTORY OF A CONVEUSIOX. 237 these truths, my return to the Catholic Church has become a matter of neces- sity, and it is only by a public confession of my faith that I can hope to regain tranquillity of conscience, that peace of the heart which the world cannot give nor yet, in spite of all its fraud and anger, can ever take away.'" ' ^ It is needless to add that the Bishop of Ermland acceded to this touchinj? request. On St. Catherine's Day, during the jubilee of 1858, Dr. Laemmer made his profession of Catholic faith, and received the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist. Towards the end of the same year he was admitted to the dio- cesan seminary of Ermland, where he received confirmation, tonsure, and holy orders. Soon after his ordination he was sent to Kome. Several valuable works on subjects of ecclesiastical history have since appeared from him, and much is still ex- pected at his hands* In the bosom of the Catholic Church, his doubts dispelled, his heart at peace, well indeed may he love to repeat with joy and gTatiiude-—Mtscriconlias Domini in cBtenium cantaho ! — (Ps. xxxii. 21). p.. ' 1 , •The following are some of the works published by Dr. Laemmer since his conversion : — 1. Eir(Tf/3iov Toh rTa/i^(Xoi) 'EKKXrimaitruTi'ii: 'Inropiae Bi/SXot AtKa. Eusebi Pamphili Historiae Kccleaiasticiu libri decern. Grajcum textum collatis qui in Germaniaj et I*Kdiu) bibliothecis asservantur Codicibus et adhibitia prtestantis- simis editionibus reoensuit atque emendavit, latinam Henrici Valesii versionem passim correctam subjunxit. apparatum criticum apposuit, fontes annotavit, prolegf 2na et indices adjecit D. Hugo Laemmer, J^resbyter Varmiensis. Fasc*. 1. Cu.i ,ulis duabus Specimina Codicum septem coutinentibus. Scaphusiae sumtitd.o iibrariffi Hurteriana;. MDCCCLIX. 2. De Codicibus Recensionibusque Historia; Ecclesiastica; Eusebii Caiaari- ensisi scripsit D. Hugo Laemmer, 18(50. 3. Ancedota Baroniana, ex codd. MSS. coUegit, selectaque specimina edidit D. Hugo Laemmer. Rome, 18(50. 4. Slonumenta Vaticana, his+oriam ecclesiasticam sascuH XVL illustrantia. Ex tabulariis S. Sedis Apostolicce secretis excerpsit, digessit, rccensuit, prolt- gonienisque et indicibus instruxit Hugo Laemmer. Una cum fra<'mentis Nea- politanis nc Florentiuis, Svo. ° 5 • I M I rt. A fl I -I i 238 RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. "Many a mile have I gone, and many did I walk, But never saw a holier man than Richard of Dundalk." Old Couplet.* i I. — INTRODUCTIOX. In aU the aabfts of social life many of the early English settlers m Ireland soon became more Irish than the Irish themselves In the vigorous tenacity of their attachment to the Catholic religion some of these families have ever remained as Irish as the Irish themselves. Having made our people their people, they became sharers m our grace of faith, so as to keep ever •since our God their God. To the Taibots and the Plunkets we owe two great archbishops, whose figures stand out prominently even among the illustrious band of prelates who fought the <^ood hght 111 the days of the persecutors. And as our Church reckons Anglo-Irish bishops among her martyrs, so among her doctors, who guarded and enriched the sacred deposit of faith, we may count Anglo-Irish prelates equally illustrious : and of these the subject of the present notice offers a distinguished example. A variety of great qualities, rarely united in one individual gives a singular attractiveness to the history of Richard Fitz-Ralph Archbishop of Armagh. Extraordinary holiness of life, of which proof remains not only in the popular couplet at the head o± this paper, and m the appellation of St. Richard of Dundalk, by which he was known for centuries, but in the stronger evi- tlence o±_a Pontifical commission, issued by Boniface IX to examine into his miracles with a view to his canonisation ; rare intellectual power exhibited in every branch of theology— eru- dition both various and profound— eloquence of a hi 4 order to which his sermons still extant bear testimony; all these are qualities which, especially when exercised under the trying vicissitudes oi a great controversy within the Church, could not tail to constitute a remarkable career. Of this career we now propose to lay before our readers an outline as perfect as the o 5 ^|;'«^°";'.';*J' ['""*"V'-^^'''"'' '" his Worthks o/Da-on from Paul Harris, CO, p. SS, Hlio thus nitroduces it, "of whose (Fitz-Ralph's) sanctity the common people of Ireland, by ancient tradition. wcVe wont \o Can tlS , ! nfA 1-" /'■"'"/{''"'•■■■/. ',"».','' '" '^'"'^"- '■^'i"^ '=^l«e reference has led Dr. Todd mto a shght mistake, vide Mar/>jr. of Dontgal, App. to Int., p xlii f ^ RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH, 239 materials within our reacli will allow us to sketch. "We do so with the hope that others, in whom better skill is backed by richer materials, may be led to supplement from their store our slender contribution to the history of an illustrious successor of St. Patrick. § IT. — THE FITZ-RALPH FAMILY : RICHaRD's PARENTAGE. Ralph, founder of the Fitz- Ralph family, held forty-nine lordships in England in the reign of William the Conqueror. From this stem various branches issued, and several families of Fitz-Ralphs were to be found in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. To which of these Richard belongs is a matter of uncertainty. Prince, in his anxiety to enrol him among the worthies of Devonshire, refers him to the Fitz-Ralphs of Wide- comb-in-the-Moor, who, about the time of Edward I., chano-ed their names and residence, henceforth calling themselves Stil- lingford, from their new abode near Exeter. But this is mere guess work. It is far more probable, in our opinion, that he belonged to the Derbyshire Fitz-Ralphs, of which family the Frechevilles and Musards of Staveley* became in after times the representatives. Our reasons are these : Ralph (Musard) Baron Staveley, a direct descendant of Ralph, the founder of the family, had a daugh:^c-r Margaret, who, on his death, became co-heir with her brother Nicholas and her sister Isabella. Mar- garet married an Irishman, named in the pedigree Joannes de Ilibcrnia, and died in the year 1308. Three children were born of this marriage— John de llibernia, Ralph, and Alicia. Thus we actually have the heir of the Fitz-Ralphs born of an Irish father. As his mother's heir, John de Hibernia was owner of the third part of the manor of Staveley, and this property he gave and granted to Ralph de Frecheville. The evidence taken at an inquisition held at Staveley, in VM6, asserts that the said John " had no other lauds in England." This would lead us to conjecture that he had lands in Ireland ; and after this time the pedigree no longer adds the words dc IlihcDiia to any of the Fitz-Ralphs. Now, it is certain that Richard must have been born about this time ; and, although the precise year of his birth is not known, the date oi his promotion to Armagh would allow him to have been the sou of this John, or of his^'brother, Ralph. But, setting conjecture aside, one thing is proved beyond a doubt, viz., that about the time of Richard's birth the Fitz-Ralpbs of Staveley had a close connection with Ireland. » CoUcctama Topof/raphira et Gowalogka, vol. iv. London, 1847. Pedi^Tee ot tlio FrucLevillci and Musards. ° U 't; I !■ IP" I r "! 240 RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCH151SH0P OF ARMAGH. § III. — HIS BIRTHPLACE. An almost universal tradition fixes his birthplace at Dun- dalk. According to Wadding, the tradition was that his parents came to Dundalk from the well-known territory in the north of Ireland called liutn, or the Route. "Wood states that almost all writers — uuctorcs pcnc omnen — make hiin an Irishman. This tradition is also clearly expressed in the appellation of Richard of Dundalk, bj' which he was universally known. It was the custom of the age to designate men by the name of their native place. Of this we have an excellent example in the name of John Baconthorpius, or of Baconthorpe, who, as we shall see, was Fitz-Ralph's professor at Oxford. Cotton, in his Fasti, tells us that " it has been contended, with some appearance of truth, that this prelate was born in England." He here alludes to the opinion maintained by Rev. John Prince,* who considers it probable that our prelate was born in Devonshire, adding, " Some tell us that he was an Irishman, and born in the town of Dundallc in that kingdom, and hence called by the name of Richard of Dundalk. Whereas it is possible he might be so denominated, not from his birth, but from his long residence, or his doing some eminent exploit there, or from some other like occasion there. Others say he was an Englishman, which is not improbable, for these reasons : that he had his education at Oxford ; that he was chosen commissary of that university ; that he Avas made archdeacon of Lichfield ; and that ho was encouraged against the friars by English bishops." These are the only arguments alleged to prove that Arch- bishop Fitz-Ralph was born in England. They are of no weight whatever when compared with the mass of testimony on the other side. 1. The name of Richard of Dundalk could not have arisen from the primate's long residence in that town, for he resided in his diocese only for about nine years, and certainly did not spend all his time in Dundalk. 2. Nor is it told in his- tory that he performed any eminent exploit here. 3. It does not make against the Irish origin of Archbishop Fitz-Ralph that he had his education at Oxford, It is well known that at the beginning of the fourteenth century there were very many Irishmen at Oxford. Bale gives the names of several most distinguished Irishmen who flourished there at that period — in 1310, Malachias Minorita; in 1320, David O'Buge of Kildare; in 1330, Gilbert Urgalius, who, consueto JUibenioriim hominum more, went to Oxford after completing his rudimentary studies. Besides, among the nations whose contests in the thirteenth and 11 Danmonii Orientales Hlmtres ; or, Thf Worthier of Devon, RICHARD FITZ-RALVH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. 241 fourteenth centuries so often made Oxford anything but a quiet abode of learning, the Irish had their phice, aiid generally went with the Southern men. And the Archbishop himself, in his discourse at Avignon, relates how he had sent to Oxford four pnests of the diocese of Armagh. 4. That the appointment of Kichard as chancellor or vice-chancellor of Oxford does not necessarily suppose him to have been an Englishman, will appear from what we have to say farther on concerning this office o. JNor was it strange that an Irish ecclesiastic should hold benefices m England. Clement VI., in 1351, granted to John do Briane, Dean of St. Patrick's at Dublin, who held at the same time the parish of Hatfield in Lincoln, permission to retain Jiis benefices during his five years' course at a university.* Summing up the evidence, we have, on the one hand the almost universal tradition that our prelate was born inDundalk • we have an established connexion between the Derbyshire Fitz- Ilalphs and Ireland about the time of his birth. On the other hand, against his Irish origin we have no argument stronger than mere probabilities which, when examined, are found to have no substance. We conclude, therefore, that Eichard Fitz- Kalph was born in Dundalk. This conclusion receives some confirmation from a narrative in Fox,t where we are told that a copy of the entire Bible, translated into Irish by Archbishop J^ itz-Ralph, was found, many years after his death, in the walls o± his cathedral. JN'ow, if this story be true, and it is indirectly confirmed by Ussher, it is plain that the Archbishop must have been born in Ireland. It is hard to believe that nine years broken as they were by provincial visitations and other labours' would have been sufficient to make an English prelate master of a language so difficult as the Irish, and that to the degree of perfection requisite for a translation of the sacred text. § IV. — HIS STUDIES AND UNIVERSITY CAREER. Ti iP'fl^^y? Fitz-Ralph went to Oxford, and was entered of JJalliol CoUege (then recently founded), where he remained untQ he had taken his degree of Master of Arts. The statutes in force at that time required him to leave Balliol. As soon as he received his degree in Arts he accordingly passed to what is ^°iT i^^^^"^ ^^ University CoUege, but which, after 1332, was caUed Magna Aula Univcrsitatis, and which owed its origin to the liberality of WUliam de Durham, who, dying in 1249, be- queathed a sum of money for the benefit of ten or twelve poor 'Theiner, Monumenta, pp. 296-594. t Martyrol Angl, torn, i., p. 17 296. 242 RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. :i' |)>r n !i. .1 !i ;ii i masters. By a decision of congregation in 1280, four masters, " whoever might be considered fittest for promotion in Holy Church," wore to be chosen to enjoy these funds, each master being entitled to fifty shillings sterling yearly for his mainten- ance. The same document enjoins that the above-mentioned masters, living together, shaU attend lectures on theology, and shall be able, at the same time, to hear lectures on the decrees and decretals. As to their way of living and learning, they shall behave as they are directed by some fit and experienced men appointed by the Chancellor.* His residence at Balliol gave him special opportunities to become proficient in arts. The college had been endowed to enable sixteen scholars to study in arts, each scholar receiving a yearly revenue of twenty-seven marks. His residence in Uni- versity College enabled him to cultivate theology. Thus all the materials of knowledge then existing were brought within his reach. At that date the course of studies had changed a good deal from the ancient narrow limits of the Triviumf and Quad- rivium.+ Out of the logic of the Trivium the new philosophy was developed, and the sciences of the Quadrivium became mere preparatory studies to the Facultas Artium.§ It is mentioned by Tanner and others that Richard Fitz-Ralph attended the theological lectures of the famous Carmelite, John Baconthorpe. This remarkable man was one of the most illustrious scholars of the day, and exercised a powerful influence on the mind of his pupil. It has been observed that when the latter had become Archbishop of Armagh, and had entered upon his controversy with the friars, he ever showed a marked affection for the Car- melites. The early half of the fourteenth century was a season of much agitation in philosophical and theological opinions. The ancient struggle between the Nominalists and the Realists entered at this time upon a new phase. The Realism of St. Thomas of Aquin was opposed by the Nominalism of Occam, and Fitz-Ralph found Oxford still agitated by the controversies that master had excited. The Franciscans were generally Nomi- nalists ; the secular clergy, as a body, were Realists. The entire university was divided into two opposite camps. The "Northern men" declared for Realism, the "Southern men" for Nomi- nalism. || Fitz-Ralph became a leading Realist, and the marked divergence between his views and those of the Franciscans was * Huber, EngUi ""'^''^ these different statements may be re- he variL,^l?^PTi, ^^ ''t*^. ?^ ''^^^^^^^^^ consideration of Oxfor'rbn. i ?' tbrough which the office of chancellor of difficulty ^ ''''" '"^^ ^ '^''^' ^'"^^^ ^"i^tion of the *2)e PresttUhus Hib., pp. 20-21. ! ;• I !i, ! 244 RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHIJISHOP OV ARMAGH. First of all, we must bear in mind that Oxford was not at that time the seat of a bishop, but was included within the diocese of Lincoln. Next, we should consider that even during the course of the fourteenth century the chancellor was an episcopal officer, not an academical one ; he represented the ordinary of the diocese, and from him drew all his jurisdiction and authority. As the miiversity grew in importance and ex- tent, the position of the chancellor, as a power extern to the university, became untenable, and by degrees the nomination to the office passed from the hands of the bishop to those of the academicians.* For a time the bishop struggled to retain at least the right of confirming the election ; but in the course of the fourteenth century even this claim was abandoned. The period 1330-1350 forms, therefore, a peculiar epoch in the his- tory of tht Oxford chancellors, marking as it does the transition period between the chancellors who were episcopal officers and the chancellors elected by and out of the university. Now this transition was not effected suddenly, but almost by way of com- promise : there was no sharp separation between the two classes of chancellors ; the one gradually merged into the other. We should therefore expect to find some confusion in the list of chancellors ; the bishop's chancellor being considered as the legitimate chancellor by those who sided with the bishop, whereas the academicians would naturally look up to their own nominee. Now it is quite certain that Richard Fitz-Ralph, master of theology, was appointed Chancellor of Lincoln on the 6th of July, 1333, for the appointment is entered under that date on the register of Bishop Burghers. "We may conclude, therefore, either that as Chancellor of Lincoln he was Chancellor of the L^niversity, as the episcopal officers before him had been, or that his appointment having fallen upon a time of some dis- pute about the nomination of tlie chancellor, he was styled Com- missaries only, or that the story of his Oxford chancellorship took its rise from the fact that he was chancellor of the bishop in whose diocese Oxford was situated. According to some authors, he was also Archdeacon of Chester. But he was cer- tainly Dean of Lichfield, at least from 1337, and held this office untif his appointment to Armagh. "Wood relates that shortly before his own time the first window on the northern side of the choir of Lichfield cathedral contained a picture of Richard Fitz-Raljjh clothed in his sacerdotal vestments, and above the following inscription : Richardus Eadulphi Jilius, Annachanus, Hiijui Ecdesiie Decanus. * Huber, vol. i. • p. 132. RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARIMAOH. 245 § VI.— HIS NOMINATION TO THE SEE OF ARMAGH. r^'TT^*^ f '^ ^^ Armagh became vacant by the death of David U Jliraghty, which took place, according to tho Anmdcs Ncuanh- tvmes, on the iGth May, 1346. Dr. O'H^agi.h had bccnDoiu o± Armagh, and was elected by the chapter o. Armagh, quad per viyurrifioncm (livimtm, as John XXII. mentions in the buU by which, on July 4th, 13;]4, he ratified the election.* He was consecrated at Avignon, and, having ruled his diocese for nearlv twelve years, died in 1346. On the 31st July, 1M6, Clement \L,jH)-cpt'onsionis, appointed to the vacant see Ilichard Fitz- Ralph, then Dean of Lichfield. The bull of nomination con- tains that the chapter of Armagh had already unanimously elected the same Ilichard, and that he had given his consent to the election.t The Four Masters place, in the year 1356, the death of Farrell (son of Jeffrey) MacRannaU, Primate of Ar- magh and representative of St. Patrick. This, as Dr. O'Donovan remarks is evidently a mistake of the Four Masters, as Richard litz-llalph was certainly not one of the Mac Rannalls We may say that besides the mistake in the names there is ul?o a mistake in the dates. It was precisely in in -)6 that Archbishop ± itz-Kalph set out upon that visit to London which was the occasion of his controversy with the Franciscans. The mistake made by the Four Masters is all the more incomprehensible for this reason, that of all the primates who sat at Armao^h since the days of St. Francis of Assisi, no one was more likely to be remembered by the Franciscans than Archbishop Fitz-R'alph 1 o.l ""i^^^^'P^^P^ "^''^^ consecrated at Exeter on the 8th of July, 134 ^ by uohn Grandison, Bishop of Exeter, and three other bisiiops.+ If this date be correct, the Primate found himself engaged in th- . lerous duties of his now ofl^ice even before his consecration. .; . the 10th A April, 1347, Clement VI. an- pointed him, to^aher with 1 - ^ Archbishop of Cashel, to make inquiry, on the parf of the Holy See, into some charges brouo-ht against the Archbishop of Dubllr. by the Bishop of Ossoiy § On the 12tli of July of the same year he received faculties from the Holy See to dispense, in a case of invalid marriage, the parties belongmg to the diocese of Armagh. || The bishops of Ardagh and Cloyne were appointed, on the 29th August, 1347 to give him the pallium.1l ' *Theiner's Vetera Momimenta, n.5lV. p. 263. t Ibid., n. 270. p. 28fi. X Annal. MSlS., in Bibl. Cotton. § Vrt. Momim., n. 271, pp. 286-7. li/Wd, n. 272. 1[/6»rf., n. 273. 1 1 * • i 1 *^^^M ■\ ' I l! I ! 1 H ! 246 mC'HAJlD FITZ-Bi.LPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. § VII. — THE ACTS OF HIS EPISCOPATE. One of the most striking characteristics of Archbishop Fitz- Ralph's pastoral life was his assiduity in preaching the word of God to his people. His sermons on the principal festivals, still extant in MS. in the university libraries of Dublin, Oxford, and Cambridge, and in the British Museum, would fill a large volume. Already, as Dean of Lichfield, he had been remark- able for his fervour in preaching ; but, as successor of St. Patrick in the see of Armagh, he seemed to have received a double spirit of zeal and diligence. A volume of his sermons, once in the possession of Ware, and lately purchased for the Britism Museunx v.t the sale of the Tennison library, includes sermons preach jd at Avignon, London, Drogh '■», Dundalk, Trim, and other places of the province of Arma^ The fame of his eloquence pre- ceded him to the Holy Sec, and, when at Avignon, he was fre- quently admitted to the high honour of preaching before the Holy Father and the cardinals and prelates of his court. He loved to make our Blessed Lady's virtues the subject of his discourse. Do Landihus 8. Boi'pam' is the title of many of his sermons. There are also special sermons on her Conception, Visitation, and Assumption. His sermons are generally con- structed on a uniform plan. After quoting his text it was his custom to begin with some short prayer like the following, which occurs in a sermon preached at Avignon on the Feast of All Saints, 1358 : Pro cdijkandi gmtia hnpctmnda, devote, si placet, matron grat'm salutcwus, dicodes Ave Maria. And in a sermon preached before Innocent VI., on the feast of the Epi- phany, after the text Vidcrh's titc/hun Magi, he begins with the invocation, Maria stella Maris, Mater s fella' Solaris. After the introductory prayer he repeats the text in the vernacular, and then proceeds with the division of the subject. In dividing his discourse he generally employs the rigour of the scholastic method ; each member of the diA-ision being complete in itself, and forming, as it stands, a finished whole. Hence, the great feature of his style is its singular clearness : a clearness which, however, never becomes hard or cold, so tender is the unction that pervades the entire. He appears to have had a singular dc\otion to St. Catherine the Martyr and to St. Thomas of Canterbury, among the saints ; three or four different sermons are to be found in the collection in honour of each. It is much to be regretted that those beautiful sermons have never been printed. Anxious to secure efficient iiastors for his flock, ho took care that his clergy should have the benefit of the highest literary and ecclesiastical training it was within his power to procure. 81 RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. 247 With this view he sent four of his priests to the University of Oxford where he himself had spent so many happy years of prohtable study. He also acquired for his diocese from the Benedictmes of St. Mary of Lenley's in Normandy, the priorv and houses of St. Andrew in the Ardes, belonging to that order, iiesides this he was diligent in visiting every portion of his pro- V^l\ ^,To¥.?^y°^^' ^^ ^^^^^d III- tliere is a letter, of ^8th AprU,1356,* addressed by that King to the Archbishop, at a moment that the latter has actually engaged in his visitation of the diocese of Meath. Edward calls upon the Primate to re- turn with all speed to Dundalk to treat with Odo O'NeiU, who was advancing upon that town with a considerable arm- of Irish Nor was it the first time that the Archbishop's virtues enabled him to discharge the blessed office of peace-maker in the dis- turbed state of society in which his lot was cast. As far back as ld48, he had received from the King fuU powers to treat for peace between the English and Irish.f . ^^^^? careful of the spiritual interests of his diocese. Arch- bishop litz-Ralph did not neglect to take care of its temporal concerns. He justified to the letter the description given of him m the bull which made him Archbishop : in spiritualihrn providiim, tn tcmjwmUhus drcumspcctum. On January 11th, 1351, he received from Clement VI. a favourable answer to his petition that he might be allowed to incorporate with the mensal funds rf his see the income of four churches with care of souls, provided the ordinaries consented, and that the sum did not exceed the annual value of one hundred marks. The petition of the Archbishop set forth that the entire income of his see did not reach four hundred pounds sterling per annum. On the same day the Pontiff issued letters requir- ing the Abbot of St. Mary's in Dynelek (Duleek), the Prior of bt. Leonard s m Dundalk, and the Archdeacon of Armagh, to- gether with the chapter of the cathedral, to examine how far it would be useful to exchange certain church lands, rents, an<1 other immovable property for others which the Primate judged more likely to be advantageous to the see of Armagh. T--^ ^73°/^^*^^™^"*^ preserved by R>Tner show liow careful Dr. Intz-ltalph was not to sanction by any act of his the claims made to the primacy by the Archbishop of Dublin, to the detri ment of Armagh. The first is dated 8th December, 1350, and IS an order, from Edward III., that the Archbishop of Armagh should not have his cross carried before him witliiii the limits of the province of Dublin. Archbishop Fitz-Ralph was unwillino^ to cause disturbance by refusing to obey this order ; but, ou the 'Claut, 29,30, Ed. III. t Pat. 29, Ed. III. 1 [ ' 1- 1 ^^^H j ^^H 1 ■ ^ X ■ 1 - 1 J 1 I i^' : I I rr if 248 RICHARD riTZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH, other hand, lie felt tliat to comply with it fully would be to prejudice the legitimate claims of his see. He resolved, in consequence, simply to absent himself from Dublin. He procured a royal license, which excused him from personal attendance at the parliaments held at Dublin, on the ground that within the province of Dublin he was not permitted to have his cross borne before bim. In 1349, he was charged by the same king to plead in the royal name before the Sove- reign Pontiff, Clement VI., for the grace of a jubilee on behalf of the people subject to the English crown. In Oxford there is a MS. entitled, Propositio ejusden {Eic. Bad. sire Fitz-Ecdph Archicpiscopi Annachnni) ex parte Regis Angliw Edwardi III. in eoHsistorio Domini Papw, Avinione pro gratia juhihei ejus Domino Ergis populo ohtinenda, anno 1349. A similar heading is pre- fixed to another propositio of the same prelate, which, as ^ 3 shall see, he urged in person at Avignon in 1357. Pope Clement VI. was engaged in anxious efforts to restore the Oriental churches to miion with Rome. The Armenians were, in an espec^''il manner, the objects of his paternal solicitude. The remarkable series of questions which the Pope proposed to the bishops of that church are well kno^^^l in ecclesiastical his- tory. It was, probably, during this visit to the Holy See that Archbishop Fitz-Ralph became acquainted with the two Ar- menian prelates, Nersos or Narses of Manasgarda, and John, Bishop-elect of Clata, in Greater Armenia. These Oriental bishops had long and earnest conferences with their Irish brother on the sad state of their once flourishing church, and, at their earnest and oft-repeated requests, the Primate resolved to con- tribute his aid to the great work of bringing back the Armenians to unity. One circumstance connected with the occasion, though it narrowed his field of argument for tlie time, has given, never- theless, to his writings a character which makes them valuable in modern controversy. In his Qaestiones Armenoram he was forced to defend the Catholic doctrine almost exclusively from the Holy Scriptures, seeing tliat his adversaries did not admit the authority of the Roman Church. Hence his position as a controversial writer does not differ from tluit Avhich the Refor- mation has imposed upon modern theologians since the time of Bellarminc. Before the publication of Theiner's Vetera Monumenta there was but u single writer, Raphael of Voltcrra,* to assert that Archbishop Fitz-Ilalph had been created Cardinal. This solitary testimony, though positive, was not considered by Ware and others strong enough to counterbalance the negative argument * Commentar. Urhanor, lib. 3. RICHARD FITZ- RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. 249 drawn from the silence of all other writers on the subject, and especially from the fact that upon the elaborate catalogue of cardinals, drawn up by Panvinio and Ciacconia, the name of Fitz-Ealph is lot to be found. Among the documents pub- lished by Theiner there is a consistorial process drawn up,^ in 1517, on occasion of a vacancy in the see of Ardagh,* in which . mention is made, among other glories of Ireland, of the Cardinal of Armagh, who flourished in the year 1353. This is no other than our Archbishop Fitz-Ealph. It is curious that the state- ment in this process is made in words almost identical with those used by Eaphael of Volterra. So close is the likeness between the two statements that one is clearly copied from the other. It is also to be observed that in the Papal documents he is never styled Cardinal, and that even as late as October, 1358, Arch- bishop Fitz-Ealph is styled by Innocent VI. simply Archbishop of Armagh, although in the same letter the Pontiff makes men- tion of the cardinals appointed to examine into the questions at issue between our prelate and the Mendicant Orders. However this may be explained, we have the weighty authority of an official document, dra\>n up at Eome, and accepted by the Holy Father himself, for believing that the see of Armagh was honoured by the Eoman purple in the person of Eichard Fitz- Ealph. ^ VIII. — HIS COKTROVERSY WITH THE MENDICANT ORDERS,. "We now approach the grave controversy which was carried on for years between our Archbishop and the Mendicant ileli- gious Orders. Even if the space at our disposal permitted it, we would not be willing to enter here into a detailed account of the dispute. Had it been given to Archbishop Fitz-Ealph to see as clearly as history has enabled us to see, the blessings which our Church owes to the heroism of the religious orders in the days of per- secution, far from opposing, he would have been the first to enlarge their privileges in Ireland. But, as it was, it is quite clear that in his opposition to them he was influenced solely by motives of an elevated nature. The whole struggle was simply a domestic misunderstanding, and of such character as that one may and must feel deep respect for both parties.^ AYo cannot do better than lay before our readers the explanation of his ob- ject and motives offered by the Archbishop himself to Pope Lmocent VI, in person, at Avignon, 8th November, 1357. t re<.JIfo«.,p. f21. t Defensorium Curatorum. .,! ' I 250 mCHARD FITZ-RALPir, ARCIIHISirOP OF ARMAGH. if (If "In tho name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. ' Nolito judicaru secundum faciom sed justum judicium judicata ' {Joan., cap. 7). " Most Holy Father, I protest, at tho very l)cginning of my discourse, that I do not intend to assert or rasldy to attirni anytliing which may clash with Christian faith or Catholic doctrine, and that it is not my intention to solicit, or even to advise, the abolition or retrenchment of the mendicant orders ap- proved by the Church or confirmed by tho Sovereign Pontitl's. But rather it 18 my desire that these same orders be brought back to the purity of their original institution, and in this also I am ever ready to submit to tho correction of your Holiness. And, to approach my subject without delay, coming to Lon- don, Most Holy Father, about certain matters connected with my Church of Armagh, I found a dispute going on between certain learned doctors concerning the mendicant state and the mendicity of Christ our Lord and Saviour. After rej)eated invitations to preach to the people, I there delivered, in tho verna- cular, seven or eight discourses, and, always under the above-made protest, I defended in public nine conclusions, on account of which, and for what else, 1 then said, the friars have appealed, though without reason, to this Holy See." The visit to London hero alluded to took place in 11550, and, as we have soon, in 1357 the case was already under judgment at Avignon. For three whole years tho archbishop remained at the Holy See, while a congregation of cardinals, specially appointed for the purpose, took cognisance of tlie dispute. No official decision was given ; but as the privileges of the mendi- cant oncers Avere confirmed, and a letter sent to the English bishops commanding them not to interfere Avith the friars, i1 may be said that the Archbishop failed to make good his cause. m ili ! n 1 i$ IX. ins DKATH. On the ICth November, 1300, according to Henry of ]\Ialmes- bury, Richard Fitz-llalph slept in the Lord at Avignon. " Of whom," says Fox,* " a certain cardinal, hearing of liis death, openly protested that the same day a mighty pillar of the Chu-rch was fallen." In AVadding's Annah it is told that towards tho end of his life, seeing it was not likely ho could succeed in his struggle, he withdrew to lielgium, and there died in the mountains of IL^n- nonia. The same account appears in tho Camden Annals of Ireland. But Waref tells us that tlie Armagh copy of these annals agrees with other histories in placing the death at Avignon. In 1370 his remains were removed by Stephanus do Valle (who, from the see of Limerick, was translated to that of Month by Urban V., in 1309), and brought back to his native town of Dundalk, where they were deposited in the church of St. Nicholas. The memory of his extraordinary merits soou * Ads and Moimmcntu, i., p. 465, seq. t De Scriptoribus, lib. i., p. 10. RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCnillSHOr OF ARMAGH. 251 attracted to hia tomb crowds of the faithful, Tho usage of styling liiin St. Richard of Dundalk became quite general, and many miracles were ascribed to his intercession. Moved by the report of these prodigies, Pope Boniface IX. appointed John Cotton, Arclibishop of Armagh, Ilichard Young, Bi&hwp-elect of Bangor, and the Abbot of Osney, near Oxford, as commis- sioners to institute a judicial examination of the miracles. Tho result of their labours is not known. Stewart, in his Umtori/ of Arnmfjh, mentions,* that in a synod held at Drogheda, in 1545, it was ordered that the feast of St. Richard of Dundalk should be celebrated in Ihe diocese of Armagh with nine lessons, in cntaiiiio Joannis et Pauli. ^ X. THE -WORKS OF ARCHiaSHOP FITZ-RALPH. (A.) Printed works : — 1. (rt) Bkhanli Arduqnsc.L ■ •' Armachani, Tlyhcniiif Primall'^, Dffcnuorhtm Curatoriim, adrcrnns cos i/tti P. Mlcijiafos sa r.s.i.; dinint, habituin Avinionu iu consistorio coram D. Papa Innocenti'o VI. ct D.l). Cardinalibus ot Prelatis, anno Christi l.S")?, nunc recens cxcusum juxta vctus exemplar et ex fiile codicia MS. diiigontissime castigatum. Parisiis apud Joan. Libert, via D. Joan. Lateranens. e regione Auditorii Eegii, MDCXXI., pp. l-lo(). (7)) Tlu! same is printed in tho AiipKiidtx (ul Fasciathim lit'i-tnn crpctendarian ft fwiiendanim opera ct studio ed. Browu Parochi Sandrigiii; in agro Cantiano, London : Chiswcll, MDCXC, vol. ii., pp. 406-48(5. (r) The same in Goldast'a Monumtnta S. liomani Imjicrii, vol. ii., pp. 1391-1410. 2. Siimma Domini Armachani in tjiocstionihrn Armonorum, noviter impressa ct corrccta a iiiagistro noBtro Joanne Siidoris, cum aliquibus scvmonibus ejus- dem de Christi Doniinio. Jehan Petit, vcnales habentur in vico Divi Jacobi sub lilio aurco . . . quinsiene jour dc Juillet mil cinq cens et douse, fol. clxxvii. As this is the most important of all the writings of Dr. Fit/- Ralph, and as the printed book is very rare, it will please our readers to have a more detailed account of its object and con- tents. The work forms a real encyclopoedia of theological learning, and reveals the vast extent of the author's studies and acquirements. The introduction runs as follows : — "Revcrcndis iu Christo patribus, Versi Manasgardensi, ac fratri Joanni elocto Clatensi Majoris Armenia), Richardua Radulphua Archicpiscopua Anna- chanua, Uibernitu Prinias, per gratiam sitire justitiam donee hauriatis acjuas in gaudio de fontibus Salvatoris. Ex revclatione Vestrx- aa.ictie devotionia aceepi, ob defectum exercitii in Sacria Scripturis autiquas quasuum hcrescs a Sanctis Patribus reprobatas, et nonnullas contra S. Scripturas novellas asaertiouea erroneaa in vestris partibus puUulassc, propter quas per doctorea Latinos ex sacria Literia resecandaa, co quia earum patroni auctoritatem EcclesiiC Romanao nou adnuttunt estiniiintes ejus auctoritatem ex Sacria Literia probari non posse, '^ 111: ' Dowdall Register. Hi I! Ill'' I I r i 252 RICHARD FITZ-RALPH, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. ad Romanam curiam aelus domus Dei et Christi cliaritas vos adduxit. Cum vero super ipsis erroribua vobis oum ibidem aliquoties contulissem, meam exili- tatem devotiua stimulastis ut super qutestionibus vestris illud vobis scriberem quod mihi dignaretur Dominus aperire. Cui Vestro tarn aeceptu ' )eo desiderio resistere non audebam, exactiones spiritnalis usura; formidans, si de bonis ad Domino acceptis officium ncglig um i .titoris, et juxta ipsius promissa f/ul evangeUzantihus dat verba virtiite nnilta ardenter desidcratis ampliora ob boc recipite ut abundom magis. Nee dcbent indignari mibi niajores, ex quoipsiper quos mebus perfici potuit illiid penitus ii' glexerunt, et ego cum vidua evange- bca cupiam minuta qure habeo in Domini domum offerre, ipso teste confidens buniilis orationis suffragio amplius quam subtilitate ingenii deficiba penetrare. Kec majorum correctiimem renuo sed atfecto, et ipsum opus (cujus titulem vohii esse De (/ua'.^tionHms Armenonmi quod in xix. particulas sive libros distinxi, singulis libris materiam fitb'i et ipsius causam premittendo), approbationi et re- probationi nostri Papre Patris dementis VI. universabs Ecclesioe Summi Ponti- licis in toto ( ' in parto committo. In priniis (juinque libris ilia principalis qurestio Armenorum pii tractaliitur : numquid Cliristus babuit in so duas plenaa iiaturas, scilicet, diviuam et humanuni ita quod propter unionem illarum dua- rum natui-arum in ip*-'! fuit Dominus lESVfci Cliristus veraciter suppositum, per- sona, sivG hypostasis m utraque natura verus Deus et vcruG homo. Primus itaque liber contra heresim Nestorianam, a quodam Nestorio intro- ductam, affirni; tern in ( liristo naturam humanam duutaxat, ita ut Christus homo fuerit et nonDeus; quam hei' um secuti sunt Cherintus, Annerintus, Theodocio, et etiam excjecati Juda>i, et multa; Oricntalium nationum usque in prasens, patefacto primitus fjuis sensus sit literalis Sacrii? Scriptura; censendus, ex Scriptura N. T. juxta sensum hteralem ipsius ostendit Christum quem coli- mus esse Deum. Secundus liber contra Judaeos specialiter ex V. T. juxta Hte- ralem sensum ipsius, probat Christum sive Messiam in sua Scriptura promissum Deum esse debere. Tertius liber ex eadem V. Scriptura ostendit Christum nostrum quem coli- mus esse sive fuisse ilium qui erat Judaico ])opulo in ipsa Scriptura promissus. In quarto libro traetantur objectas Judaici populi (•( intra ostonsa in lib 2' et 3° ct dantur et probantur in ipso regula; certa; istos objectus, et omnes alios ob- jectus Judaicos dissolvendi. In quarto libro contra heresim Arii et Apollinarii affirmantem quod in Christo anima liumana non fuit, divinitas loco animic in Christo erat : ad hoc, contra heresim ManicluTi dicentis Christum non verum corpus humanum sed corpus fantasticum habuisse Scripturaj testimonia adducuntur, ct consequenter contra heresim poneutem cori)us humanum in Cliristo fuisse et divinitas veluti indu- mentum ac vestem sicut in angelis cum corpora humana assumunt ; ct contra heresim Dioscori affirmantis naturam humanam in Christo in diviuam fuisse mutatam ex utroque Testamento testimonia proferuntur. Sextus liber ex Scripturis utriusque Testamenti ostendit Spiritum Sanctum a Filio sicut a Patre procedcrc, quod a Grecis et ab Armenis plcris(iue ncgatur. Septimus liber probat ex Scriptura quod Romana Ecclesia sit caput totius EcclesiiE Christianre. Octavus liber de Sacramento baptismi et ejus forma plurea Armenorum qua?stiones absolvit. Nonus liber de Sacramentis Corporis Christi et Sanguinis Confirmationis et Unctinnis plurea qusestionea eorum tractat. Decimus liber de modis illicitis confcrendi et acquirendi et detinendi dona Dei gratuita ac praiposituras Ecclesia; quaistionea eorum pertractat, et an requi- ratur gratia Dei ad habendum dominium. Undecimus* liber de potestate absolvendi simplicis sacerdotis, ct de puni- tione .animarum hominum impiorum ante finale judicium quajstiones ipsorum dissolvit. * Cardinal Bcllarminc •warns his readers tliat our author is cante Ivgrtidus in the 4th cap. of the 10th and the 4th cap. of the llth books. The Cardinal does not approve of bis doctrine, de potestate jtreshyteroriim, nor of hia teaching on the mendicant state. fHi I'r KICHARD FITZ-RALPII, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. 253 Duodecimus liber qusestiones Armenorum pertractat de beatitudine anima- ruiti qiiorumdam justorum et de purgatione aliquarum auimarum ante fiuale judicium. Liber decimus-tertius, quem propter Athanasium Grcccum qui negat Purga- toriuni adjeci, quatuor pertractat articulos, de satisfactione, debita pro peccatis in vita et etiam post banc vitam. Liber decimus-quartus tractat qucestiones GrfEcorum et Armenorum de visione nuda atquo clara di\ iucu essentioe a vere beatis quam negaut pleri(jue eorum. Liber decimus-quintus objicit contra auctoritatem nostras ScripturDC per contiiigentiam futurorum proenuntiatorum in ipsa quae possint non fore, et occa- sione cujusdam novelli erroris asserentis omnia futura ex necessitate sive inevi- tabiliter evenire, quare ofTendit libertatena contradictionia in voluntate humaua tarn ex physicis scripturis quam ex divinis in multiplici ratione, et contingeu- tiam futurorum. Liber decimus-sextus ponit tres de pretactis objectionibus accejjtis de infalli- bilitate scripturce diviua,', a divina prcescientia immutabili, a \ tjluntate divina omnipotente invincibili et etiam efficaci ; et .solvit eosdem ex propriis principiis evidenter ostendena contiugentiam futurorum et libertatem contradictionia voluntatis divina; et humance. Liber decimus-septimus residuos sex ponit objectus de Dei co-operatione speciali cum voluntate hominum operante ; de sustentatione rerum intrinseca ab omnipotenti divina poteutia ; de divina coiiperatione generali eum omni agente create ; de necessitate eventua actuum intrinaecorum nostrorum, etc. Liber decimus-octavus ostendit auctoritatem Legia Antiquw et Novse, et probat utrumquc Testamentum ex lege Saracenorum firmari ; et cum in multi- plici ratione allirmat Legem nostram traditam in suia majoribua articulis non fuisse aut esse coi-ruptam. Liber decimus-nonus comparat Legem nostram quoad sacrament . et cere- moniaa cum lege Judaiorum. Pertractat etiam de miraculis Apostolorum, et ostendit Legem nostram robur amplius habere quam ratio naturalis, aut aliqua secta gentilium et hoc totum opus consummat. Quia vero per interrogationem et responsionem modus tradendi videtur multis facillor, licet sit aliquantulum prolixior, unum de nostris, mihi diacipu- lum predilectum, quasi mecum disputantem accepi. Ita ut Joannes vicem gerere quterentis, et Richardus intelligatur vicem gerere docentis licet potius respondentis. Vos igitur, Reverendi Patres, opus accipite quod petistis, ora- tiouis si placet mercedem mihi pensantes pro labore hoc. (B.) "Works in manuscript : — 1. (a) Summa contra Armenos, lib. xx., fol. 126, xc. New College, Oxford. (b) liesponsio de Armenorum Ileresi, fol. 218, xviii. Lincoln Coll., Oxford. (c) Armachanus de Qutdionibus Armenorum, Cod. 250, n. 4. St. Benedict, Cambridge. ((/) Scriptum Armachani de Questionibus Armenorum, Cod. 224. Pembroke, Cambridge. (e) Rtchardi Armachani, lib. xix., Questionum adversus Armenos, Triu. Coll., Dublin. 2. liicardi Radulphi ArmacJiani Opus in P. Lomdardi sententias in ques- tiones xxix. distributum, prasvio sermone super idem. xv. Oriel College, Oxford. 3. (a) liicardi Had. Armachani, Propositio facta in consistorio coram Domino Papa et Cardlnalihiin ac Prehitis super materia me/idicitatis ac jjrivilei/iorum men- dicantium contra Fratres de ordinibun quihuncunque, apud Amnion. Die 8 mensix Novemb. Anno Domini MCCCLVIII., fol. 54, xxxviii. Magdal. Coll., Oxford. (6) Propositio ejusdem facta in consistorio coram Papa, Cardinnlibus et Pre- latti ad uiilitaiem cleri as populi Christiani super materia mendicitaiis ac prioi- legiorum cintra fratres de ordinibus mendicantium quibuscunque apud Av'^iion. 8 Nov., 1357, fol. 184. St. John Bapt., Oxford. I ' 1 i 111 ,! i\ •1 11 I ! ir. Hh 254 RELIGIOUS TOLERATION AS ATPLIED TO CATHOLICS. (c) Ric.FiUi liadulphi, Archiep. Cantaur. (sic) sermo habitus Aviniona tiii. (Up. mrnsis Novemhris A.D. 1357. in iatml Nollte jmlicare secundum facitm, etc., fol. 53. Corjius Christi Coll., clxxxii., Oxford. 4. PropoMtio liic. Armachani ex parte licijis Anr/Jin; Edirardi III., in consis- forio D. Papa Avinione pro ijrutia juhilai ejus D. lieoi Uangeious Many causes have contributed, according to our author to keep up this unhappy condition of things. Amono- them 'he places the Irish Church Establishment, which he denolc^ al a grievance which meets tlie Irish Catholic at every turn and which ought to have bean removed before the question of ud- mrtmg Catholics into Parliament was moved.^ We will not follow him into this topic, but will confine ourselves to what has I 1^ 1,i I! : ( ^^BS l'. ..HW m ^ t il i M m 2G0 KELIGIOUS TOLERATION AS AIM'LIED TO CATHOLICS. a direct bearing upon the subject of this paper. lie draws attention to two mistakes made by tlie Government in dealing witb the Catholic question, and suggests remedies to illustrate more and more clearly the nature of tlie Protestant idea of toleration towards Catholics. The hrst mistake was that of assimilating Catholics to Protestant dissenters, and tliis he pro- nounces to have been a most mischievous error. According to our essayist, I'rotestants differ from one anollier, not in kind, but iu degree. Itcnce a Protestant national cliurcli sliould embrace all Protestant sects, and exclude none. ])iit Uiis argu- ment holds only witli l*.votestants, " for they alone stand side"by side as bretliren, eqnal iu right, and separate in responsibility to a higher tribunal." Catholics can never take their place on the same level with Protestants : " A wall of partition always remains between them: a irulf wliieii cannot be passed liy gradual steps. \Ve may, on tlio whole, believe that the moral benelit of the Catliolie clergy is greater tiian tlic drawi)aeks. AVe may be will- ing to sanction the ajtpropriation of public funds to supjjort them, as at May- nootli, or as in a Prussian university. We may maintain that Maynootli ought to be forced to migrate into Dublin University. ^Vo may wish 'the Catholic priests of Ireland, as of France, to receive paylnent din^ct'from the State. But two facts would remain unchangeable ; first, their Church would still be an uncongenial, hostile, arrogating system, with no common ground of science on which we and they could stand ; secondly, we, on our side, could not be in frank unsu8i)icious amity with them, but must ever be on the watch as against an encroaching foe " (p. L'lG). These remarks will at once remind our readers of the svstem of toleration proposed by John Milton.* In his scheme all religious sects were to be tolerated with one exception, the ex- ce2)ti()n bning the Iloman Catliolie Cliurch. The system of our essayist is not dissimilar, and the essayist is the exponent of modern Protestant feeling. Put is tliis a toleration for which we are to be tliankful ? When will Catho- lics learn not to be deceived with flue words? How lon words that the only way to destroy the Catholic Cluuch was fo tohralc it in the true sense of the word. He now lays down just as distinctly that, thu true plan of toleration is to separate the laify from tlie clergy, and use them as against the clergy. Therefore, the honourable olKce assigned to the favoured portion of our laity— to those among them who have received power and influence in the countiy— is that of destroyers of the Church which they believe to be tlie work of God. Again, the main difficulty in the way of full toleration of the Catholic Church is its organi- sation, which means its independence. The Protestant State has tried e\ery means of \ioleiice to break down that organisa- tion and crush that independence. But violence was vain. It now has recourse to another means, and tliiit is to make tho Catholic laity the destroying power. This is tho toleration which is offered so ostentatiously. And does not such toleration mean simply destruction? Such is the insulting estimate formed of our Catholic laity, whom, our author says, " it could never really offend to follow the preciHlents of France or Austria, though such of them as owed their seats in parliament to clerical influences might talk as ultramontanes " (j). 221). But there is one charge brought against tho Church to jus- tify this system, namely, her doctrine of persecution. THE FIlEEi\[AS0N8 PAINTED BY THEMSELVES. The Count de Maistre has left it written of sovereign power that, like the river Nile, it endeavours to hide, as far as possible, the source whence it first issued. Tho same may be said of Freemasonry, which would conceal not only the source whence it has sprung, but the course it follows and 'the point it seekstj reach. But, in our days, the mysterious Egyptian river ha'3 been forced to yield up its long-guarded secret. The patient toil of skilful travellers has been at length rewarded with the ih \\ 262 THE FUEFMASOXS J'AKNrKl) BY THEMSELVES. i; H • I!' I 4^ Mi ill ^' sight of those springs of Nile which so many had sought in vain to behold. 1 reemusonry must be content to submit to a similar des.my. It must endure the scrutiny of profane eyes keen enough to search its very depth of mystery. It must be satisfied to have its organisation laid bare before the world. And, what IS harder still, it must endure to hear its own condemnation in the cry of horror which breaks from every honest man at the sight that meets his gaze once the veil is removed from off its face. The hand thr.t has struck away the veil is none other than the consecrated hand of the Roman Pontiff. Never raised but to bless— never bhssing without effect—that hand has been to iiurope, and to the world, the source of true civilisation. And yet at times, for the hardness of their hearts, men turn awav from Its gifts. Like Noah, the Roman Pontiff foretells the coming deluge, and, like Noah, he is sometimes slighted by a perverse and thoughtless generation. This has happened to some extent m the case of the denunciations which the IIolv See has so often issued against Freemasonry. Had those in power been more attentive to the words of the Sovereign Por tiffs, and more docile to their teachings with respect to secret societies, how many evils might have been averted from European society ! In his latest allocution, I'ius IX. complains that the efforts of the Apostolic See against Freeraasonrv have not been followed by the due result. Far from being crushed, the JMasonic body every day boasts of larger and larger increase. Even some of those whose duty it is to be first in carrying out the Pontiffs' decrees have proved sluggish and negligent of their task. Many Catholics who judge of Masonry only from what they mad in newspapers friendly.to the body, or from the good qualities of individual Freemasons of their acquaintance, are reluctant to believe what they find so solemnly asserted by the Sovereign 1 ontiffs. In their eyes Freemasonry is but a 'bene\olcnt or a convivial society, without any aims beyond those of cliarity, or any thought of conspiracy except to promote brotherly unif.ii between the members of different classes in society. They can- not persuade themselves that so many estimable men, whom ihi'v know to be Freemasons, are really those monsters of iniquity so darkly . T.-d in the allocution. To such uo these, and to all who consider the Catholic v: jv of Iroemasonry to be extravagant and unreasonable, we addrcsn ourselves to-day. We assure them that the portrait of Masonry pv vted to the world in the allocution is a faithful copy of f 1."., poiirait M-hich Masonry, with its own hand, has drawn of itself We wish to justify the Pope by the help of Freemasons them- selves. Descending m detail to the charges made against them THE FREEMASONS PAINTED liY THEMSELVES. 263 by the Holy Father, we are able to substantiate them one by one, not from mere hearsay reports, nor from the evidence of credu- lous or hostile witnesses, but from the free admissions of the accused. Our argument is this. You hesitate to believe that Freemasonry is wicked, because you consider the Holy See to be misinformed. Be it so. But you cannot hesitate to give credence to the Freemasons themselves. Habeinits confitcntem reum. Why delay any longer to believe him guilty ? The documents we are about to quote in evidence are tin- questionably authentic* The sources whence they have been collected are the official records of Masonry, published under the approval of the Masonic superiors. For, it is worthy of remark, that among the vei_y men who so loudly condemn the Catholic Oinsorship of the press, liberty of the press is not tolerated. Nothing may be printed concerning the body without the per- mission of the superiors. In case of each document herein quoted, referonces are given to the source whence it has been drawn, so that anyone may verify it at will. Before entering upon our subject, we wish to remark here that not every individual Frccmasonf is at all cognisant of the plans entertained by the society to which he belongs. We declare at once that we do not joresume to judge individuals. There are many grades in the body, and thousands never pass beyond the lowest. Tiesides, it is generally said that in Eng- land, Scothmd, and Ireland, Masonry has preserved a character comparatively innocuous. But, even when this is granted, it does not follow that all Masor. ; in these countries are to be held exempt from blame. Men who elect to remain in close and practical brotherhood with a society which, as such, is «1 so where notoriously irreligious and anti-social, run the risk of being con- sidered as accomplices in the evil deeds of their fellows. In a mercantile community no honest man can allow swindlers to use his name, and expect to preserve his reputation immaculate. The same holds good in the case of any other voluntary associa- tion. _ But we are compelled to believe that Masorry in Eng- land is something more serious than a gay heresy, as it has been charitably called. In a speech delivered in 186.'], at a grand Mason "c banquet, M. Hayman took occasion to review the opera- tions of Masonry in the various countries of Europe. He drew attention to the great spread of Masonry in England, which he *For these documents see La Franc. Ma<;onn€rb nournkf a la puhlicM a I'aidt; de documents aut/wntiqucs. Amand. Neut. Gand., 18(15. t "The number of exceptions to be made for upright Masons is beyond the conception of those who are not thoroughly actjuainted with tlic principh's and the proceedings of the Hect." Bnrrwl, Memoira of Jacobinivn, torn, ii, pp. 273-5. ■I ! I ( ! ' ''. t • \ 1 ^ 1 1 1 "i n 264 THE FREEMASOxN'S PAINTED liY THEMSELVES. attributed to this that Masonry supplied a want long felt by the Anglo-Saxon heart, namely, the want of a religious worship^ fj n -'"^^f '''''°? and good sense do not find satisfaction in the ancient dogmas flock in crowds to the Masonic temple, where reason, good sense, morality, and philosophy are repi^ented under a touching symbolism."* i^^eseniea From this it would appear that, according to the Masons orThtthn^'tr"'^ " TT^^^' ^^. ^^«^^-^ - ^ -^'^Se ior Christianity upon which it is an improvement. A-ain M Goffin in his m.toirc Populaive cJe ht FrancMa^onnenc %. 468) states that tho lodge of Freethinkers founded by him at Vervier ! on 1st September 186c, received its authorisation (Idtrcs de canstMoH) ivov^ the grand lodge of Memphis of London ]^ow '^^Jf^ffl^^^think.rs, as its founder tells us, has madelJ a rule to admit no one as member " who will not make a formal of the Church m case of havii^g to contract marriage, and who wiU not oblige himself never "to consent to recefve religfous SfW l^f'^' /". *?^' '^''' '^^^^S a masonic wm by which the fulfilment of this obligation may be secured." IIow far this anti-Christian spirit represents the feelings of the lod J^ which granted le ters of institution to the Verviers Masons we tai^'i'h'.f^T' 1 f"^^^§^\ ^^'' "^^^'^^ ^' l«^«t' appears cer! tain, mat the relationship between the London and Verviers Mges IS as close as that subsisting between mother and daughter. We need say no more. fo">'ci. The allocution asserts that Freemasonry is a society fl) of obscure origin and widespread organisation, which (2\ under a specious appearance of harmlessness, entertains design sibver! chaVt''^'??[^ '^^ "* ''y'^ ''"'''y- Th^ irreligious^andTuilt^ character of the association is made plain (3) from the fact tS It IS common gx-ound for men of every forWof belief! 4 from taken bTi^^t'' t'""^' ^^s meetings, (5) from the rig^rlus oath bodv^?Lf T^'' ""''"" ^^""^"^^ ""y*^"^8- concerning the body, and from the severe punishments they subject them,^4ves to m case they became false to their obligations^ We proceed theSvIsli'" '^"°"" ^^'*^^ "^''"^ «* *^^ FreJmasont 1. Upon the origin of Masonry a thick cloud ever rests which even the Masons themselves are not able fully to ra se' of the ObT r ^''Tr^ °^ ^^ ''^ ^"^"^*' 1S39, in the lodge of the Chevaliers of the Cross, Orient of Paris, M. de Branville thittr 1- ''" ^r d/Drient of France, inclines to he bS that the religious doctrines of Masonry are the continuation of * Monde Ma^omuqve, torn, iv., pp. 742-740. THE FREEMASONS PAINTED BY THEMSELVES. 265 the Egyptian mysteries preserved in the Temple of Isis, and transmitted hy the Templars, who, to escape persecution, estab- lished the Masonic Association. The history* of the Order of the Templars, and of the execution of James Molay, their master, is represented in Masonry under the double allegory of the Temple of Solomon and of the story of Hiram {Le Qlohe^ Masonic Journal, t. i., pp. 294-297). But, however obscure its origin. Freemasonry has attained an extraordinary development. The Tableau Qeneml des loyeSy drawn up by a distinguished Mason, M. Rebold, sets forth the number of lodges in existence throughout the world in 1850. We give this remarkable document in full : — GEOGRAPHICAL TxiBLE OF FREEMASONRY, INDICATING ALL THE GRAND LODGES, ETC., EXISTING IN 1850. States, Islands, or Countries. England, Scotland, Ireland, France, Prussia, Saxony, Hamburpr, Holland, Sweden, Denmark, Belgium, Switzerland, Bavaria, Hesse Darmstadt, FrancfortonMaine Hanover, Portugal, Greece, Turkey, United States, n Kames of the Grand Lodges. EUROPE. Grand Lodge of England, „ ,, St. .lulin of Scotland, „ „ Ireland, ,, Orient of France, „ Lodge or Suji. Council for France ,, „ or SIcjther Lodge of Misraim rite, ,, National Lodge of France, ,, Lodge of Three (jlobes, „ „ lloyal York of Friendship, „ National Lodge of Germany, ,, Lodge of Saxony, ., ,, Hamburg, „ „ Holland, , „ Sweden, , National Lodge of Denmark, ,, Orient of Ik'lgiuni, ,, Lodge or Sujjrerao Council, , Alp'no Ijoilge, , Lodge of the .Sun, , „ ,, Onion, » », ,, , ,, Hanover, , Orient of Lusitania, , Lodge of Corfu, Independent Lodges, NORTH AMERICA. Grand Lodge of New York, I „ Louisiana, , „ Massachusetts, , „ Pennsylvania, , „ Virginia, , „ Maryland, , „ North Carolina, ,, South Carolina, Year oi 1 i> At the Orient of founda- u^ tion. i^^ London, 1S13 820 Kdinburgh, 1730 730 Dublin, 172!) 632 Paris, 1772 314 mce, 1804 50 the Paris, 1810 4 1848 8 Berlin, 1740 111 ship, 1798 31 1773 6» Dresden, 17,').') 13 Hamburg, 1737 li) The 1 laguo, 1770 83 Stockholm, 1754 25 Copenhagen, 1747 15 Brussels, 1832 25 1817 11 Zurich, 1814 14 Bayreuth, 1742 9 Darmstadt, 3 Frankfort, 1783 14 Hanover, 1841 16 Lisbon, 1805 Corfu, Belgrade, Vew York, 1787 13l> S'ew Orleans, 1812 24 Boston, 1777 32 Philadelphia, 1780 47 [achmoiid. 1778 77 Jaltimore, 1783 28 Raleigh, j 1778 40 Charleston, 1787 17 * For further information on the origin of Freemasonry see Professor Robert- son's excellent Lccturei^ on Modern History and Biography, p. 407 sqq. I*-'' 11 If A, I 266 THE FREEMASONS PAINTED HY THEMSELVES. ii! ii >'• ,1," ' Jh in iStatcs, Islaiiils, Cuuiilries, 01 United States, Or.ni,n 49 Xiimcs (if ihf Grand Lod^'cs. 'Canada, MfKlCO, Trxas, N('«- lirunswick, Aciidia, Califoriiiii, Ni'wfoundlaiiil, Cajie Hulon, Brazil. Venezuela, Toru, Bolivia, British Guyana, French „ Dutch La riafa, Colombia, Uni'^uay, Paraguay, Haiti, Doininica, Culia, Porto Bico, Jamaica, llartuiiiiuc, Gua/laloupc, Domiiiick. Barliadoes. Bermuda, Curatda, fit. Bartholomy, St. Cruise, St. niomas. St. Eustachius, St. .M.irtin, Trinidad, St. Christoyiher, St. Vincent, Antijnia. Grenada, Dcmerara, Bahama, '• (if Kentucky, . (iiliiTnbia, , Missouri, , Ohio, , Maine, , Mississippi, Connecticut, , Georgia, , Florida, , New Ilampshiro, ., Khode Island, ,. New Jersey, .. Indiana. ., Tennessee, Delaware, ,. Alabama, „ Illinois, ,, Iowa, ,, Vennont, ., Wisconsin, ., Arkansas, „ Mieliijj;an, rro\incial Lodf,'e • ,, Texas, • > •• New lirunswick, •• .. New Scotland, California, „ St. John, deji. on England, SOUTH AMERICA. Grand Lodge of Brazil, .1 „ Caracas, !i ., St. John, Lodge of St. John, Grand Lodge of Haiti, » „ St. John, Lodge of St. Jean, Liiuisville, Washinjjtun, St. Louis, I/uicastur, Augusta, Natchez, New Haven, Milledgevilk., 'ralk'hassa, Concord, I'rovidence, 'IVenton, Indianopolis Nashville, Douores, Tuscaloosa, Kushville, liioomingt(ai, .Montpellier, .Moriral I'nint, Little Rock, Detroit, Kingst(m, Queliec and Jlon treal, Mexico, Austin (Houston Frederickstown, Yarmouth, San Francisco, St. .lohn'.s, •Sydney, 1810 792 17SU 17!)0 17!ll I7.H() 1800 1842 1774 1792 182,5 18;i7 Rio Janeiro, Caracas, Lima. La I'lata, Strabock, Cayenne, Paraweribn, Buenos Ajtcs, Panama, Maraoaibo, Monte Video, As- sumption, Prince's Gate, San Domingo, Havanna, St. Jean do Porto Rico, Kingston, Port Royal and St Peter, Basseterre, Roseau, Bridgetown, Bermuda, Williamstadt, The Carenayl, Christian.stadt, St. ThoTnas, St. Eustachiu.s, Philisburg, Port of Sjiain, Basseterre^, Kingston, St. John, St. George, Demerara, St. Salvador, 1822 1823 12» 22 2,'5 170 63 fi5 3K 77 13 2S IK 10 18 lOO 4 42 10 10 ;i4 25 22 8 ,11 14 45 9 20 3 3 1 1,5 ti 1 2 12 .5 i 3 3 2 12;5 22 2^ 170 (i3 (i5 3K 77 13 26 IK 10 18 lOO 4 42 10 10 .54 25 22 8 ni 14 45 9 20 3 3 1 22 7 15 « 1 2 THE FUEEMASONS PAINTED BY THEMSELVES. 267 states, Islands, or Year of »| Counties. Names of tlie Grand Lodges. At the Orient of founda- tion. •°% AFRICA. Algiers, Grand Lodge of St. John, Algiers, Constantino, 4 11 Oannry Islos. i» n St. John, Toneriffe, Upjier Guinea, Cajie of Sierra Leone, 3 Sencgamliia, liathurst. 1735 2 Capcof Goodiropc, Capetown, 1736 6 St. Helena. Jam<'stown, 1 Isle of lldurbon. .St. IJonis, 4 Miuiritius, I'oit Louis, 3 Mariiuesas, tst. Peter, 1 Senegal, St. Louis, 4 JItizainbi(iuc, ASIA. Mozambique, Ilindoostan, Grand Orient of lienfral, Lodge of St. Joiiii, dep. on various G. 0., Agra, roiidichcrry, Alla- liabadjGoa, liniii- bay, Carneatir', liaVrilly, Oincam, Dejepour, Cheze- poor, l-'uttosKur, Torres do Vcdras, ) j 57 China, L. of St. John, dep. on G. 0. of England, i:anton, ILong Kong, 12 Ceylon, Colombo, 2 I'rincc of ■Wales' Georgetown, 2 Isle, Turkey, Tera, 1738 )f OCEANICA. Smyrna, Sumatra, Lodge of St. John, dep. on various G. 0., Palembang, Java, Hataviii, 1730 3 New ITolland, I'ort Jackson, 2 New Soutli Wales, Sydney, Paramatta 1828 3 New Zealnnd, Bay of Islands, 1H40 ViinDiemen'sLand llobartown. According to M. Robold there are five hundred thousand Masons who take an active part in the hihours of their lodge, and from eight t :> nine milHons wlio, though accepted members, take no direct part in the Masonic operations. Since 1850 the number lias increased still more. In 1858 the list of English lodges amounted to 880 ; in 1802 it had grown to be 996. In 1802 fourteen lodges in Europe, outside the United Kingdom, were dependent upon the Grand Lodge of London, of which three were at Malta, two in the Ionian Islands, two at Constan- tinople ; in Asia ninety-seven were similarly dependent, thirty- seven of which were in Bengal, twenty in Madras, eight at Bombay, three in China ; in Africa twenty, of which fourteen were at the Cape of Good Hope, one at St. Helena ; in America 126, of which eiglity-two were in Canada and Nova Scotia, thirty-four in Central America, eight in South America, and two in the Bahamas. In 1860 the United States had 4,841 I 268 THE I-UEKMASOXs lUlNlKn liV THKMSKi.VKS. lodges, and 213,056 members. In Italy since IH^IQ ,.n i than seventy-seven regular lodges l..ve fcn "'ected C^ wide Tver hTtX^ltZT" ''^-^r''^^ ^ ^P^-^ f- and wnrl.lM • / •! • ' . ^^ ^^^'^ ^^'^^ critical period of the relAvitfevJ/-' ''^'' • ''' ^r^. ^'^ -v-ry nation,^and exhibits irseii with ever increasing audacity. 2. A corporation so widespread must necessarilv winlrl nr, eiiorinous influence for good oi- for evil. ^^0^0 wL Tal tho S-^^ t^SZ:"^! T '''''' "^? indiffe^i^e u^ ^ Se vo^ r i T' '^' ^'' «^"^««hed, as with a net, the peace Z [ to^T ^^^°^^^^.^«"' ^^^ the very sake of public pt-att, ougnt to be above suspicion. Far from >,oi'r.^ .« v • ana ttiat t^ method is irreligious and anti-sociah in order to gain an accurate idea of the religious doctrines of Masonry we cannot do better than examine a Masonic profes! from it fl, ' >^ 1 "'• "''^'' ^""^ "'^"^^^^ "^ q^««tion. We mal ^ ciples:i °''"'° '^^'^''^*'^' ^^'^"^^ ^"^b^dy religious prin! oiuae^ll &^ -^^^^^ thereby to constitute'tSlTr ^Jli.?;^;;!,^!! S tl^^ ^^^°"^ ^-'^^I^' ContdnerinTb^''* '\-1'«^-* '^''!^^-^^'^ *^ ^^«^^ ^^^^^ ^^« doctrine eSudes bv t. i'^'l 'I anti-Christian by reason of what it b^'relToT^bLteSde?^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ the uni™" V'°"'^'^T'^.' ^^^Pt^«^« "the Groat Architect of tne univeise appears to have been the leadino- nrincinle of tlm S ,o°the Frll'"'"' "T""'^ ""^ Templar. LrCfendrf aown to the Jjreemasona from icmote Mitiq.jitv M .Tnn.^ nt,A of the very highest offieers in the French ll^-nrjfiescriben 11 > THE FREEMASONS TAINTED BY THE.MSEIA'ES. 269 Gnosticism which admits the existence of one only God co- eternal Avith being itself, not divisible into several persons,' not subject to human misery, and who consequently never died' nor can die. If to this, he says, be added the belief that Christ was not God, but merely a philosqpher, that miracles are an impos- sible violation of eternal and immutable laws, and that God has no need of such means of procuring obedience to his will " are not," he asks, " these doctrines, which arc taken entirely from Gnosticism, the very fundamental doctrines of Masonrv ? Does the Mason divide the incomprehensible Being whom he calls the Great Architect of the Untverae? Does he believe that He died or can ever, and that his sole will is not law for all men '^" (Le Globe, t Hi., pp. ;307-310.) It follows, therefore, that the phrase Grand Architect of the Universe implies tlic denial of the Trinity and of the whole supernatural order of Christianity. Thes4 are declared to be the fundamental doctrines of ^Hasonry by M Juge, M'ho, among other offices, held that of Grand Inspector- General, 3;3rd degree, and who must be supposed to be acquainted AVith tlie nature of Freemasunry. JS'ext, by reason of what it asserts. Quite recently several of the French lodges earne to the determination of omitting from their constitution all mention of the existence of God and of the immortality of the soul M. Heboid thereupon addressed to Marshal :\ragiiun, the Grand Master, a protest, dated 3rd November, 1804, in which he de- clares that a belief in the existence of God and in the iinraor- tality of the soul is the basis of Masonry. He adds that the general formula, Grand Architect of the Uniccrse, was adopted from ancient times by the ]\lasons, and accepted by men of all religious persuasions. And M. Ilayman (Monde Magonnique t. IV., p. 657) explains it to be a " generic denomination of God' which everyone may accept for the God he adores ; even those who do not believe in a God." At best, then, Freemasonry asserts a frigid deism. It admits of no mediator between God and man ; no order but the natural order ; no relation between the Deity and man save natural ones such as they suppose existed at the beginning. ^^ It is anti- Christian by reason of its effects. We do not see how Art. 4 can be reconciled with Art. 5. If the former be true, Masonry has a definite religion of its own which makes it impossible for anyone to become a true Mason and at the same time retain his own faith. This is candidly admitted by the more advanced of the fraternity. " When Masonr\-," says M Goffin,* " opens its temples to a Jew, a Mahometan, a Catholic," • Histoire Populaire de la F.- Mason., p, 517. •i I '■<: I I; ^i 270 THE FREEMASONS PAINTED BY THEMSEI.VKS. or a Protestant It is upon condition that he will become a new man, that ho will abjure his past errors, that ho will lay down the prejudices and (he superstitions of his youth. Without this what business has he in our Masonic meetings ? what ideas is ho likely to acquire there ?" Another direct result of this fifth article is an appalling rehgious indilTerentism which is made one of (he conditions of admis. on. Besides, open war is here declared against Catho- licism, winch, of necessity, cannot tolerate error, althou-h it may and does tolerate the erring. No Catholic who recites the creed with faith can possibly become a good Freemason. Finally notwithstanding all its disclaimers of wishing to impose a re- l.guous system notwithstanding its repeated promises to respect and admit all forms of religious belief, Freemasonry deliberately asserts that it aims at supplanting all Churches founded on reve- lation, and establishing On their ruins the Church of Humanity its leading principle and method are anti-Christian, by reason of their utter rationalism. " Masonry addresses itself to the reason as the basis of conviction and of certitude ; it addresses Itself to the retison as the foundation of universal morality ; it binds man o God, not by the mediation of an usurpino- theo- cracy but through the sentiments and ideas that God Himself has placed m the heart of man, made to his own image, to com- municate immediately with Him. It is thus that it is willin- and able to explam the great mystery of humanity."* After this admission there can be no need of further evidence to show that Freemasonry IS absolutely incompatible with supernatural Christian revelation. ^ The social action of Freemasonry is exerted to procure the substitution of pagan instead of the Christian civilisation On this subject we shall say nothing from ourselves. A\'e invite our readers follow a distinguished Mason in the account -ivon byhr.aof the present labours and tendencies of Mason" v in Italy, Germany Lnghmd, America, Asia, and Belgium. "His discourse was addi-essed to his brother .Afasons on occ"asion of the grand festival of the Order in 18G3, and is to be found in full in the Monde Magonnique, t. iv., pp. 742-749. " In the Italian peninsula Masonry looks on the nast ic nno nf ;^■. i 4. important cares; it has adopted a programmrwh oh exnn sJ^l, fi '^'J accurate and precise manner the wants of thrn^t ons of ou ono 'l P -"'* aloft the immortal device of our institution, it dS ces f'Z hKu \ ^'"""^ conseriuenees-complete and unrestricted maniStSis of ThoIuM H "^'"''''' of all nations by means of the Masonic bond aiTl I tL i T' ' *j^^"n'on idea of solidarity .h.h is the result ^^miOIZi^, a^lTfeSt^! '''' • DiscoiKse of M. Frantz Faider at the Fi,lelity Lodge. Ghent. 2nd July. 1840. THE FREEMASONS PAINTED IJY THEMSELVES. 271 Not only do our Italian brethren look after working men's associations and |jul)lic instruction, but they devote even to agriculture a share of their time and their ettorts. . , . They proclaim their aversion for everytiiing like mono- poly, beginning with the worst of all monojjoliea, the iV"o<;o;(«i(yj((H;tv(. , . . The religious (luestion likewise forms the most considerable part of tlie programme of our Italiiin bretliren: but, I hasten to say, not that religious (juesticm which tends to sunder men by ditl'erences of rites, forms, and revelations ; but tlie sole and only religious (juestion which Masonry has raised in all times and in all ages, by proclaiming all beliefs to bo equal, m ithout caring for tlie exterior form, and by fostering a worship of the Great Arcliitcct of the Universe, an ideal superior to and earlier than every revelation and every professed dogma. . . . " In the north of Eurojie Masonry follows a course more easy and less peril- ous; it mixes but little with the practical life of nations. More speculative than practical, it is content to sow in the hearts of its members seeds which sooner or later end by coming to the .surface. . . . The dominant idea in the minds of these, our brethren, is the search after that social equality which we, children of 17Sy, do not lack, but which is wanting to our bretliren beyond the Ehine, among whom birth, religions, and professions are impassable barriers in certain states, and which only Masonry helps to suppress." As to Enf^lish ^[asonry, wo have already quoted some of the remarks of M. Haymau. lie adds : — " In spite of the reclamations often uttered against our brethren in England by the French Masons, who look upon the English temples as something like churches, our institution plays an important part in England and America, be- cause it has proclaimed love in the heart of a society tliat worships the indi- vidual, and because it has bestowed a worship upon those who before had but a cold enthusiasm. Nor is this all. The oll'-shoots of Anglo-Saxon Masonry bear their fruits among the least civilized of men. In America there are lodges which affirm that all creatures have e(iual rights. ... On the banks of the Ganges Masonry achieves what the political labours of centuries have not been able to accomplish. . . . TV.e Indians are becoming Masons ; in the lodge they hear it proclaimed as a principle— all men are e .w\ %. %. «> '^^^' nO. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ % / ^^ .^ .£/> % 1.0 I.I 1.25 H: 1^ 12.0 M 2.2 1.4 1= 1.6 V count shall be drawn up. He is requested to avail himself of the wisdom of this lodge, or of the Grand Orient, in such important events as may occur during his time of service. The non-observ- ance of his engagements will expose him to severe penalties even to expulsion from the Order; the application of these rigorous measures shall be left to the discretion of the Grand ' Neut. p. 235, App. 12. Hi! ■|,,Ti THE FREEMASONS PAINTED BY THEMSELVES. 273 Orient. Any lodge which judges publicity to be of use mar make its own arrangements to procure a notice in the news- papers ; but the Grand Orient reserves to itself the right of re commending such journals as are in its confidence. When once their candidate is returned, he is become their bondsman for evermore. As usual we shall bring proofs from their own documents. A circular letter from the Grand Orient of Belgium, dated 1st March I806 contains a reply to the following Question : Has a lodge the right to demand from one of its members, who has entered into politics, explanations concerning his political acts ? The answer declares that "the lodge has not only the right, "but the duty of watchmg the political acts of such of its members as it has sent into political lif e ; the duty of asking explanations whenever one or more of these acts do not tend to enliehten society with the torch of truth ; iho duty of accepting these ex- planations when they are satisfactory, of expressing censure when they are not forthcoming, and even of cutting offfrom the Masonic body the members who deliberately have failed in the duties which their quality of Mason imposes upon them, especi- ally in their public life.' > i' v.i Now, is it not plain that all this is a serious injury to the rest o± the community ? What can be more fatal to the best interests of society than that public men should be deprived of the liberty of following that line of political conduct which appears to them best calculated to advance the well-beinff of their country ? What can be more injurious to society than that men who hold political positions of trust should be subiect to the authority of an irresponsible and unknown tribunal, claim- ing the right to sit m judgment upon taeir conduct, -nd to bind thorn to a course which, perhaps, their conscience condemns P It IS especially dangerous when Freemasons occupy the first peaces in the State. Is there not every reason to fear lest even the public authority might, m such a case, be made use of to forward the views of the Order ? Are Freemasons so perfect that thev are above the temptation of employing their power for their own purposes r* And this danger increases a thousand-fold when the education of the country is allowed to exist in the hands of a Government which may be under Masonic control. It is sad to think of a Catholic people, whose innocent little ones, born again of water and of the Holy Ghost, children of our Holy Mother the Church, are handed over to be educated by men to whom the Cathoic faith is a mockery and an abomination. What system will be followed m schools and universities under influ- ences such as these men obey ? How many tempting baits held out to the young to lead them astray p " •^ » 19 ;yi I 1^74 THE FREKMASONS PAINTED BY THEMSELVES. Wt n ||i It now remains for us briefly to examine the special cbarffes urged m detail by the allocution. ° The Holy Fatker asks, " What moans that banding toffether ot men, whatever may be iheir religion and their faith ?" Catholic and Protestant and Jew and Rationalist and Buddhist all meet upon common ground in the Masonic Lodge. Can thev become good Mabx.n8 and preserve their own religion intact ? V/ ' I V °*- , ?''''® ^"'^'^ "^"^v« t^at the more candid Masons believe that tliey cannot. All moral is founded upon dogma and Masonry has moral principles of its own which are lounded upon its own special doctrinal principles. If men meet to put these moral principles into practice they must take them as they find them, that is to say, rooted in and springing from the doctrinal treating proper to Masonry. Their doctrines on trod, man and nature necessarily colour their practical rules o£ action, and these in turn reflect the doctrines by which thev have been detailed. _ Masonry is operative, and its practice hinges upon its theories. The mingling of different religions m the lodges must necessarily end either in a cynical indiffe- rentism to all religion,^or to the adoption of the Masonic reKmon as it has been described above. 4. The secret that shrouds the meetings and workino- of the society at once stamps it as objectionable. That this se^crecv is considered essential to the well-being of Masonry, and even to ite^ very existence, we are assured by a very high authoritv M. Deirenne, an experienced and trusted Mason, in a discourse delivered on occasion of the opening of a new Belgian lodge, on 17th August 1840, declared to the assembled novices that the duration of their existence as Masons depended on the rigorous custody of their secrets.* And M. Thoryf says that the publi- cation of the works of the Abbe Barruel and Professor Eobison so discouraged English Masonry that it did not recover from the blow until after many years. IJovv, secrecy is the hiding-place of moral evil. '< In the actual condition of civilisation, is it possible," asks M Faider + "to make public our doctrines and pre. h them to the world? 1 think not, unfortunately. Too much ignorance, too many prejudices, too much resistance would arise to oppose our efforts and to crush them." We reply, in our turn, that body of doc- trines against which the moral sense of society would rise in reoellion cannot be pure or honest. If pure and honest, why conceal them ? The Freemasons complain that Catholic in- tolerance has denounced them unjustly and without cause. If •Journal Hist, et Litt. de M. Kerslen, torn, viii., pp. 535-545 fAeta Latomonim, torn, i., pp. 205 and 224 t Discourse at Ghent, 2nd Ju^, 1846. Neut, p. 120 ' I THE FREEMASOXS PAINTKl) HY THEMSELVES. 275 80, why not lay bare to the whole world their entire system organisation and method, and thereby prove the Roman Pontiffs to be false accusers ? According to its own statement. Masonry Paul \^/?rt"' ""T^y ' •'" '' ^^' ^'''''^y «^ St. Vincent de f ry^ot^L^^^^^^^^^ Besides, it is highly immoral and dishonourable in a man to pledge mmself solemnly, and that by oath to obey unknown and irresponsible leader, and to do whatever they should be Xased o command him It is hard to imagine human liberty ro htod tlT^.^'^^^'^i '°"t*^^^ *^^" *^^«- There is no man who fee s the digmty of manhood, and is conscious that he is respon- sible for his actions to a most wise Judge, who would noVfeel repugnance at the idea of binding himself to take part Tn deedl of which he knows nothing, and which, therefore, may be wicked And this above all, m the matter of politics, wherein mon's views hffer so broadly, one from another, as to what is just oVun^Z honest or dishonest, useful or noxious. unjust, T, ^A- Th« j^onsciousness of the vital importance of this secrecy has dictated the atrocious oath which has to be taken by a candT date for admission and which is specially mentioned in the allocution as a proof of the evil character of Masonry "If T violate my obligation,'' thus runs the oath, " I allow my tongue to be torn away, my heart to be dragged out, my body to'be burned, reduced to ashes, and flung to the ^inds, so tha? no memory of me remain among men." This hideous oath is ad- rvSn ^'^T ''""'? "^^^^^ ^^^"^^"^' ex-officer of the (xrand Onent of Pans, in a discourse delivered by him in the Lodge of the Chevaher de la Croix, on 8th August, 1839 * It f! also to be found in the Masonic Ritual corrected in 1356 Thl iniquity of such an oath is patent to all. Either it is taken by the candidate seriously, or as a piece of mock solemnity in keeii mg with the character of the trials to which the neophn?- nerves are subjected on his entrance into the Order. If in tho latter sonse, how black the sin that solemnly calls upon he force r t f'A'l^l V ^'-^^^^^^^ *° " '''^'^'^-' -«d ?hild sh larce I But if it be taki^-n in serious earnest, as the source of an obhgation to make binding certain relations between man arS man, It IS simply abominable. Whence does this society claim the right to pumsh its disobedient sons with death ? Is it from Xf°„f P n* ^}^'^ P?'^''"'' *^^ authorisation. Is it from the btater^ On the contrary, every well-ordered Government has • Le G/obf, t i., pp. 294, 297, § 3. II " iili!! j M f .i i I if: ' f^7Q THE FREEMASONS PAINTED BY THEMSEI^VES. J 1 I interdicted the Freemasons, and no Government has made them lords of life and death. Is it from the individual who has taken the oath ? But is it not beyond a doubt that no individual is master of his own existence ? and how could the neophyte make over to another a right he never could claim as his own ? We have followed thus far the Sovereign Pontiff in tae accusations he has brought against Freemasonry, and, with the Masonic documents in our hands, without setting down in malice aught from ourselves, we have seen that each and every charge has its full justification in the teachings of the Masonic Order itself. It may be said that these documents do not convey the real Masonic doctrine ; that they are the creation of individuals whose heated fancy has distorted the stern and simple truths of the lodges. If so, why do not the Freemasons repudiate such sentiments, professed, as they were, in the very sanctuary of the temple, before young and inexperienced novices who were to be formed by the speakers to all Masonic virtue? Or, perhaps it may be said, these are the theories of some individual lodges, fruits of exceptional circumstances, and confined to special dis- tricts. If so, we say again, why not repudiate them ? Why, on the contrary, are the very men who profess such theories treated as brothers ? why are they allowed to claim all the prac- tical advantages that Masons so often share with each other to the detriment of distributive justice and to the injury of non- Masonic citizens ? Or, it may be urged, these are the unreal dreams of impractical foreigners, and treated by English and IrishMasons as unreal dreams, deserve to be treated as such. Even if it were so, and we have shovi^n why we cannot believe that it is so, is not Freemasonry hereby most fully condemned, in that it is a society in which the best of men meet side by side with the worst, pledged to the same principles with them, with a vague atmosphere of incredulity overhead, and most fla^^rant and unmistakable wickedness around them, and yet absolutely powerless to exorcise the hidden evil of the principles or to check the patent wickedness of the deeds ? If Freemasonry be wholly bad, the case is proved against the Order ; if it be wholly good, then many of its best and highest are deceivers and false teachers, for, as we have seen, their own words bear witness against them ; if some be good and some wicked, how lono- will the good bear the yoke of the wicked ; how long will they en- dure that their own light should be mingled with the darkness ? " Faxif dives in miser icordia Deus ut redeant insipientcs ad cor !" * * Vuie the Allocution. THK CONGUKSS oK STUDENTS AT I.IKGK. 277 THE CONGRESS OF STUDENTS AT LIEGE. *' May you be enabled some day to behold in us the best and happiest work of your hands, when, children of 1830, with the cross of Christ on our country's banner, we shall march to con- quer the future, under the shelter of constitutional liberty, under the guidance of our venerated and beloved dvnastv, in the name of Faith." These words were addressed on the 27th November, 1857, by the students of the Catholic University of Louvain to the Rector and Profeasors of their Alma Mater. They breathe the generous and hopeful ardour of youth, but an ardour chastened and per- fected by religion. Who will say that the future steps of these young men were less manly because made in the name of Faith ? or that they loved their country the less for having been tauo-ht to ennoble their patriotism by uniting with their country's flag the cross of Christ ? Freedom from restraint is the passion of youth ; but these young men avow that they can distinguish between liberty and licence. AVill they serve the cause of liberty the worse for having been taught to serve it only by la\yful means ? If in their address they recall the memories of 1830, it is that their religious and civil rights may be respected by their rulers ; and they speak dutifully of their sovereio-n lest their loyalty should be called in questioA Thus all that makes youth the season of promise in them is purified and exalted, without being weakened. Piety without fanaticism, patriotism without narrowness, independence without audacity, loyalty without servility, are the gems of which their words are the setting. The system of education which produces such results as these has fulfilled all the conditions required in the best interests of religion and society. Now, that system is the system which makes religion the groundwork of education. The noble senti- ments we are admiring are the proper fruits of a Catholic Uni- versity. Let us now turn our attention to a very difPerent set of speakers. They belong to the same country as those we have been listening • ; they live under the same Government with them, and are subject to the same laws. They are taken from the same ranks of life as the students of Louvain, and are des- tined to fill in society positions similar to theirs— a? lawyers, J T. i \ \ \ . >■ ■ - i V 1 1 • -^^ t i 1 I 278 THE CONGRESS OP STUDENTS AT LIEGE. I' !i m ?te""'' r''¥°*'' ""^^ °^ ^^^^''' «^ ^f property. Most of ip s trcatrr Y;r^ t'^' '^'^'^^^^^ ^^"^^^' ^^^ trough up m the Catho he faith. At present they are students of the wH h ^rr'- "'rf/* Belgi/m,and the basis of the system Tn .If ? "'""^ ^^'™ ^' ^^''^ *^« C^tl^oli*^ Church shall hav^ Ch,?r.h • ''•'^'' «d"«^«on. Their instructors proclaim that the Church 18 mcompetent to teach ; that her ^rmulas of faith Srovs'afltTri/^^ '""''^''h "^^^« ^- repressive sysl^m Pr]„n«7 ^ "'I^^r ^''^''S'^' «^ ^^^ wi" ; that her action upon education makes it the nurse of fanatical sectarianism • that^he cTae'v'thrrT ""^" ^^\^'^^^^ ^^^- - unscientific theo- cracy that she teaches youth to divide its allegiance. For some tmie buck the State has taken upon itself the work of ednlaSl It banished religion far from the academic halls in whTch "t assembled crowds of young men, lured by the fasdnltioii of bright promises and solid rewards. This godless system hasLid hme to carry out its theories, and to contemplate at length the that woU ^"fA ^r ^^" "^^^^ doubted^for a moment wha? Srelesroanb •f^. ^^t to-day not even the unwise or the evil wmTl V ' ^° '.'^^'"^'^ '^" ^"^ *« i"^g^ th« tree to be evil which has borne fruit so undoubtedly pernicious. The students themselves have met in congress at Liege and with all the impudent shamelessness of corrupt hearts^ have rlvealed ThrTrt Jr-n '^' T'^^i"^^ ^^ ^'^^''' education has made them Ihree terrible words suffice to describe the abyss into which thev have been led: Atheism, or infidelity in religion, materLfsm m aiiy case, and under any circumstances ; but thev become once aught to lisp with infant love the holy name of God. It 18 not possible to repress a cry of indignation against that treacherous system which has seized upon so many innocent souls, to rob them not only of the natural virtues which are so fair in youth, but of their hope in this life and of their God f„l i /^''''''''w *^ students' congress were scenes of fright- ful confusion We have had, even here in Ireland, a sampfe of what an unbridled mob of students, trained by the godless fBewZ ''^^r \'^' ^"^ °* ^^««^^^^- I^^t their hflhZ m Jjelgium-perhaps because trained more fully in the spirit of that sys em-have far surpassed all we have as yet been con- demned to witness in this country. We willingly^abstafn from describing the abominable scene. ' After all, its a^ccJdental horroS TfpnS ^^^^^^^fi«^"^e, before the hideous doctrines asserted, defended, and applauded to the echo by the congress Nor shall we attempt to follow the order of the diLssionSLLlorder there hardly can be said to have been. One merit, must, how THE CONGRESS OF STUDENTS AT LIEGE. 279 SO I ever, be conceded to the speakers. They cannot be accused of want of precision in their statements, or blamed for reticence or equivocation. Hence we need only collect their testimonies, and arrange them for clearness' sake under the three heads men- tioned above. We have chosen these heads because we believe that there can be no more searching test of the godless system than an examination of its results affecting respectively the central truths in Eeligion, Philosophy, and Social Science. And first as to Religion. At the morning session of the 31 st October, M. Leon Fon- taine of Brussels thus categorically expressed the objects his party sought to achieve in the religious order :— " We seek the physical development of man, and this cannot be attained without bread. As to man's intellectual and moral development, that i^ a secondary question (c est ini roU secondalre). As socialists, we desire in the relmous or^er the annihilation of every religion and of every church, and we seek to arrive at the denial of God, and to the freedom of private judgment."* And the same speaker again says : — «f *il We. 'i^T^ no liberty of conscience. If a certain sect to which belong that Sant us a s^ubai'd'"'? establish a religion called Atheism, would the State "A Member— Atheism is a negation. " M. Fontaine— No ; it is an affirmation. (Applause.) Thev would eive us no subsidy, but would hinder us from practising that worship. If a thousand of us Atheists were to meet in any town, and if I were appointed by them a SsmaUett puTpTt." ^'* °° ^*'*''' ''°' "^"'^ * ""^" church, nor even M. Cas, of Paris, in the same session, spoke as follows :— "I propose a resolution to the effect that the Catholic religion must be allowed no part in education, and I demand the complete exclusion of everv individual who represents the idea of religion. When I hear men speak of God 1 think of my spine ; when I hear men speak of liberty, I think of Napoleon. authoritrtirorGS"""*^ " *'' '*'*^' """ ' ''^ "°* '^^'=°s°'^^ '^^^ -"^ --» These utterances are plainly and unmistakably atheistic. We now pass to others which, though equally destructive of belief m Goa, are veiled unde- forms fortunately hitherto generally unknown to the bulk of our populations, but which now require to be unmasked. We allude to the doctrines of Positivism. Ihis 18 not the occasion to point out the place held by Comte, the founder of the Positivist school, in the history of infidel philosophy. We must be satisfied with drawing attention to the atheistic tendencies of his teaching. Be it enough, there- • La ratric, Xos. 310, 311 ; 6th and 7th Nov., 1S65. t:^ ■ 1 ruf n Ih:l| I 280 THK CONGRESS OF 8TUDKNTS AT LIEOE. fore, to say that the extract given below from M Bi,rn,.o'<. apeech is but the application of the geneml Taw which Smte declares to preside over the progress of knowledL T^'a T according toComte.has threLtfges t WgrSh each ienle with factrand does n^^^^^^^^ - -ntent called thoistic the second pantU^tCiheTh rf atSl" '^^^^^^ ^at" tntf bfsr'f ^°" It admits of nolltut such fJot^1?^^^^""^^''^ ^7l rotting of spirit, or personal immortality^of the soul ' to understand M. IlTrqLf" explanation wo shaU be betterable ^!^k'^^tiolT^l^^^^^^^ to be the thing or other. Education t been firS Tl?Il^ "'^ ^.^^'"' ^ '°"'' ^ ^"'ne- mathematical, at present it is ami ou^l,?tnKp'°!?'^^'l ">^" metaphysical or long time it was believed thit t 1 ^T .^e Positivist. For example : For a rei^ hand. Sci^te has dtcterfdXrttir.''^ ""' ^""'"^f 'S^ « «°^«- ponderable qualities of bodies \VemuSr.,l,^lf harmony resulted from the which humanity itself has been ednoXl . V *** ^^'^ H°^ ^^'^'^ **^« f'J^hion in to bear on his brain. To enable hntnnn 7' "T"'? ''""^ ^"^^ ^^'^^ 'y^^^^ must first prepare Ir's organisation AV ,. n '^ff'*'''"^ ^^T P'''^ phenomena we defect in his brain, we cfn rfold to h m he r^'^^^n '^'*'' *^^* ^^^^'^ '« "'> has an art and a morality of ts own Iventrrr ''^ "TV ' -.P-^'tivism conscience, that a youn/man thZ^i-aii i • 1 1 . f''^' ""'^ ^ ^''^y '* ^'-om my dignity."* ^ ^ ""^^ *''"^ *"*'"^^ will be able to comprehend his owu whik hp « Jr'J w'l'^ f °PP.°^""* ^^ ^- ^<>"eher de Careil, who £ a M 1 r^ '^'"^?^^' ^'^?."^^^ *^^ spiritualist thesis To a^h^ism hSZf/'^^A'^'- "^r'''''"^ ^' "Either deism nor tn^llZL^""''' ^^^^^^ ^^ education!Ls\?cti'vfdti?h^ denc^es^o?Pol?vr''' ''m S'^^^l^'g^* en the atheistic ten- idea of God T Jri. ^- J^'^''^^^^ de Careil proclaims the rnPt\n] ? '/ ^^^'^^ "^y^^^f te Positivism. There are two SSstlr^r'""' ?f °^^^ °^^ - «--«*' n"-eTy th^ rositivist or experimental or materialist There are two 'La Patrie, No. 309, 5th Nov., 1866. THE CONGRKSS OF STUDENTS AT 1,1 KOK. 281 Standards : one, that of God and of the reaction; the other, that of Positivism." We have put in evidence abundant epough to show that atheism and infidelity areumong the results of godless education. In olden times there were men who said there is no God, but thev said it in their hearts, in the dark recesses of their own guilty consciences. Those who say it at present glory in their ehanie, and meet in the midst of populous cities to make boast ot their unbelief, and to insult to his face the God that made them. Why this difference ? Let those answer the question who established it as a principle that religion must be banished from education. Materialism in philosophy ever follows close upon atheism, or immediately precedes it. The congress of students declares itself to be materialist by the very fact that it avows its partiality for Positivism. But explicit assertions of materialism are to be found in abundance. M. Regnaud declares that "the word materialism must not be rejected on account of the attacks of which it has been made the object. As for me, I frankly de- clare that I am a materialist (applause). Comte was a great man, and a follower of Diderot, our great Diderot. The middle age was a period of darkness, y, :erein only funeral piles gave light to the world. If Julian the Apostate had been successful, perhaps the fifth century would have had the noble institutions of the French Republic. , . . To-day every man of progress is for materialism. On our banner you may read the device, pro- gress by means of science." M. Lafcrge also undertook the defence of materialism : • "Jh^'^^a'^e two systeris of education, the purely materialistic system which rejects God, and what is more, does not concern itself about Him, and spiri- tuahsm, which leads straight to absolutism. With spiritualism there is no morahty. Catholicism is the most powerful engine that has ever been con- structed from the idea of God, and, unfortunately, it is still powerful. After four thousand years of struggle (?) it is still standing. Listen to 'vhat Catholic morality teaches : there is a God who directs the universe by his absolute and elfacacious will. Is not this fatalism? God from all eternity has fixed the number of the predestined. . . . According to Catholic morality we can do nothing to gain heaven." j ^^v M. Jacqlart said : ' Thus far the question has been clearly put. In fact, the question is be- tween God and man. We wish to determine whether we ought to retain in education the spirit of religion, or exclude it altogether. Let us see what has Catholicism done for morality, for art, for letters, for philosophy, for science. Morality ! how beautiful was that of the ancients ! It had for its motto Potiua moriquamf cedar i : Death before dishonour. This was the morality of a Cato of a Lucretia. ... Catholicism condemns this morality. Catholic morality is contained m these words : Initium sapientice timor Domini. Is that a noint of view worthy of us ? la the motive of our actions to be the fear of punistiment. or the hope of a boundless enjoyment like to that of the saints ?" . . . I ti 282 THE CONGRESS OF STUDENTS AT MEOE. mir r t ill I I nrnf A ^^^ K^"^' ^^^ost all the Speakers on the 20th October luTfl^"" ^"."'''""^ «* the France of 1793. Alinost all attacked the right of property, authority, and, in ffeS the bonds that keep society togetber. Almo t al invSd tt force-the terrible force of the Reign of Terror-as the reln^ rating principle of modem society^ We sS be content^wlth a few as quotations. M. Fontaine, after proving to h^ own Tott^say t^'^ ^^^^^"^ ^^^^ ^^' - libortyyi';rd! nations/and taiXy'n^^^^^^^^^^^^^ *>?« ^-•-'^tioS of all «upp,.ess:on of the right o^ p.opttyf Sabiitf^ ^f h:iiS"' " '"""' *'' ^r. Janson said : — and'lLte'te'ZrprollaKu^^^^ "' ''"' 7%''^'"'' ^" distinc aons of orders we nn.st create t^e refubl r inr^vlTiZ7\f *'' • "f '°" •*^^'' ' '" «»« ^'°^^' the attention of youni'naen-the r':^uX"rd*S,il!^ "'^^ *»>'"« '^--"ng BruIrein"wh!oh'T'''^^-'^^'l'^^^ ^°^^« «^ M. Robert of reform. Authority is thTweighf t1 at ^^? «,t *^ '" pohics, authority in social ^ble to rise to heaven, to rL above hp.vo.f. "'•, i' '°"? '^^ ^"^n'^^ " "ot were a ceiling of papefthTr: i 'rs'^hlLgY^Sent.-' "^* '' ^"^^"^ ^« " '^ We conclude by making two observations. The first re^nrr^a the boanng of the scene we^ave here described upon the educa tiomd question now debated in Ireland. In the w^ords of one of tlio quest on has been put clearly enough." Are we to E' torn the religious spirit in education, of are we to exdu^t E,XTP ?7i-^ ^^^ altogether ? We will not now enLTpon the r.M :t??^'i.^^"'*^°^- ^^^ ^i" merely remark that those who take f b • 'f'S'^^'.rS^' to be excluded from education mus? he eonTret'o" T •' ""' 'ri ^''^-'^^ blasphemous studentTof views of thpse ri-^% I^''' ^^"^'^^" ^^t t^^ ««bo of the memLr« nfl "'^'^"^'^^^ y^^^g "^en. And why have the sTof exclud?n?rSf • " 7 ^"^Pj'^t^^^^ proclaimed the neces! suy 01 exclud ng religion from education ? Thev do not attemnf tnTL't: Tsf "• '' '^'^^^"" *^^y beliLls'ullS vewsentertdned bv ?bT'-'^ propagat ng the anti-Christian ews entertained by them in matters of religion, philosophy. THE CONORBSS OF SCUDKNTS AT LIEGE. 283 and social science. The proficiency they have already made under the system has given them a right to speak with authority on this subject. And thus it comes to pass that what the Holy bee has lonff since authoritatively declared, is now confirmed and proved by the testimony of this congress, namely, that education without religion is a source of indifferentism, infidelity, and re- bellion. Let us hope that this witness rising from the dead this voice crying out from the dead hopes and blighted promises o± a washed youth, may be listened to by those who have refused to hear Moses and the prophets. In the next place, we wish to draw attention to a coincidence which appears to us eminently suggestive, and of great import- ance in the present matter. Whosoever exa .lines the Lfe'^e discourses must be struck at once with Ihe central place whiCh 1 ositivism holds in the minds of the speakers. It sugo-ested to them a plan of studies ; from it they borrowed epithets in need • Its method ici their method; it pervades and colours their entire spirit. Ihere were, it is true, oven among them some few who have not bent the knee to Cerate and Littre. But they were few in number and tL- remedy they would apply was little better than the uip.;.v .. Almost at the same time that Positivism was thus enthroued in the congress of Liege, here in Dublin, in Innity College, a distinguished Catholic student, in an address read by him before the College Historical Society, took occasion to heap praises on that very Positivism and its author. While he admitted that Comte has fallen a prey to the silliest and most ridiculous fancies when laying down laws for the cew community ot which he was to be the author, the speaker expressed his belief, nevertheless, that his philosophy will, "perhaps, mocUfv the convictions of every thuiking mind." He commends to his hearers Comte s Science of History as suggesting hopes of a splendiu future. i^o b f ^ And yet the Positivism thus commended is a system which 18 Without God in this world, which knows not the spirituality ajifl immortality of the soul, and which logically destroys Chris- tianity by making all proof of it impossible ! If in Belgium they are reaping the whirlwind, in Iroland we are sowing the wind ■ } ?■! 284 I'OSmvWM. lUSlTIVLSM. I. fn7outt\Z^'^-'"f^-^ 'f T"" ""'''"^^^'^ ^^ ^ "^«d««t lodging, 8^' em tiSnHr't T '^'T °* it'^^^^P^^y ^^ the Sciences. The iTkoT.l . ? ^'^f .P''«P««cd rose above the philosophical horizon, like a cloud no bigger than a man's hand, and, apparently wit he to distinguish it from the many s;stem's Et da !> T « only to disappear. Thirty-eight years luue since elans^d and S Tknth'if 7 'r "".^ 'Yf'f ^'^'^ larger anJbla^k^ until at length t threatens to hide from the sight of men all L IWhl lV-1 '^r't' ''-''' '' ^^^'^^'™- Tl- infill ce of tlielositive Philosophy has gone on, ever steadilv incrcasinr? comte.and day by day its mfluence still increases. Thai in- ft bSs'to?^^^ ^""^n^i ''^^ ^"""P^^^- ^^t^'^^oever it touches ievolT on tl rZV f'^"" ^'^'*'"' "* .pWlosophy have been a mikes war on ^" 1 T'""' "'. "-''"^^' ^^^'f?'«^ ' Positivism V.V f f T ''^ ' ^^^^P;^on and reason. Other iihilosophies solu ions t .r^f/""'^ '^' ^^'^7"^^ P'-'^^^-^ «f -->'« dest'iny so utions no doubt, various, ialso, and contradictory in them- Sa^^^tratto;" t"t P"'r"« ''' ^^ '^' '- '^^-^ I'ositi^il rtcclares any att^enipt at a solution to be delusion or audacity free ^H S. ' '""''T^ "^^ ^^^'^"^ ^^«^' '"^^ irnn.orUdZt rrte Mill, faith, ini.yer, rrovidonoe, conscience, truth— all tliat ZtZtZ^H'''' of nations and of individuals-must d' Zn frn,n r ^^^^^^^.^^"F "^?^^^^o"«- ^^ ^ould ruthlessly tear man from every hope in the divine promises, and would check the outpourings of the heart towards our Heavenly Father To to t" cl" ''°' "^ '''^ """^^^ ^-^ *^^ ^^«^-* ^-«d«- it seS-itsS? We propose, in this pnpor, to give some account of fh^ members of the Pos^tivist School in IVance aa.l i i "LJ It 18 the misfortune of our time and position, as Irish Catholics that If we would road the current literature at all we must ex-' C'T'^'" 'r the influence of writers whose fLugh" ani language are coloured, without our knowing it, by the spirit of some pagan system. Reviews, magazines: fourim hTtories even the very novels that circulate in'thousands amon^ Catho L are of en so nuiny channels of insidious influence e«tubiishc^ Tn the interests of a most pernicious naturalism. It is a sore scandal POSITIVISM. 285 that Catholic journals should admit into their columns praise and recommendations of such works. It would be a useful undertaking if one were to set forth in plain language the vari- ous doctrines which inspire the leading periodicals habitually- read by millions. How many would be surprised to find their favourite writer or review to bo in reality the apostle of some system subyersive not only of all that the reader holds as sacred in religion, but even of the principles upon which he unhesitat- ingly rests his theories of right and duty as towards society ! J low many would be astonished to learn that the scientific, or poetical, or tenderly emotional writing concerning God, upon which their simple piety is wont lo rest with delight, is nothing elfso than a roundabout way of denying altogether the existence of a personal God ! The first place in our notice is due to Auguste Comte, the founder of the Positivist philosophy and religion. The sources whence \yo have drawn our -nformation are eminently favour- able to him, seeing that they are tlie writings of those who are personal friends of his own, and devoted adherents of his system. Mr. (ieorge Jlenry Lewes (JPortnUihtln -iin-im; No. xvi., 1866,' pp. ;i85-410), lately published a sketch of M. Comte, based on the writer's personal knowledge of the man, and on the state- rnents of M. Littre and of Dr. Robinet, the philosopher's phy- sician. No man in England has done more for Positivism than Mr. Lewes; no man is more thoroughly penetrated with the spirit of the new philosophy. In following him as closely as we can, in the sketch he has drawn of the master, we are safe from being unjust to the memory of Comte. Auguste Comte was born of Catholic parents, at Montpellier, on the 19th of January, 1798. When nine years of age he became a boarder in the Montpellier Ivycee, where he soon became remarkable alike for talent and resistance to discipline. At the ago of twelve, having exhausted the course of studies usual at the Lycee, he was allowed to begin mathematics. In these ho made such proficiency that in his sixteenth year he had already gained a first place at the Polytechnique. At the age of seventeen he was admitted to the Ecole Polytechnique, and there fully sustained the brilliant reputation for capacity he had acquired in his earlier years. In a short time, however, his rebellious spirit showed itself by an act of insubordination of a grave character. This led to his expulsion, and to his being placed for a time under the surveillance of the police. Long before this event he had cast off both the religious belief and theroyali.st, tendencies in which his parents would have trained him. At fourteen he is supposed to have been a complete infidel. He was deeply read in the irreligious nnd 11? ■ 1 t 1 !■' '!■' ! .1; •I J ;•! ?, ' J 286 POSITIVISM. revolutionary literature for which the eighteenth century was remarkable. It may be easily imagined that his pious parents were deeply afflicted at the sad change that had been wrought in their son, and that they became intensely anxious about his future career. Their anxiety was deepened when he announced to them his fixed intention of proceeding to Paris. They re- monstrated and threatened, but remonstrances and threats were equally powerless against his obstinacy. He went to Paris, and, by the aid of a few friends, earned for himself a scanty subsist- ence by giving private lessons in mathematics. For the space of three weeks he acted as private secretary to Casimir Perier • from Perier he passed, in 1818, to St. Simon, with whom he lived for six years. His intimacy with this man began in enthusiasm on Comte's part, and ended in a violent rupture, which was the result of difference in opinion between the old philosopher and his younger friend. According to Mr. Lewes, Comte owes to St. Simon's influ- ence only thig : a conviction that the revolutionary work of the eighteenth century was complete, and that the work of the nine- teenth century should be. towards a reconstruction of society on a new basis. However this may be, it was in 1822, about four years after his first meeting with St. Simon, that Comte laid the foundations of the new philosophy, " which he called positive, because it was the generalisation of the method which each positive science had employed in particular" (p. 388). In that year he published his Plan des framuT necessairen pour reorganiser la Society. In 1825 he published in the Prodiictcur, Considera- tions Philosophiques sur les Sciences ct les Savants, and Considera- tions sur le nottveau Pouvoir Spirituel. These essays contain an outline of the Positive Philosophy : — :i i I « "There it is shown (1) that .-xll phenomena, even those of politics, are sub- ject to invariable laws ; (2) that the human mind passes from initial to theo- logical conceptions to final positive conceptions ; (3) that human activity, in like manner, passes through industrial rdgime, through the transitional state of a defensive military rhjime ; (4) that everywhere, and at all times, the state of rf^v^iv^i r\ii\ct t\-v\f* rv\ n nr\ rwtrt i-\r\^ i-kViHrv x^AnXl. »- J.'J J.' 1 il . .1 _ bring about the substitution of the industrial for the military regime; and, finally, that the spiritual reorganisation, which is the necessary condition of all social reorganisation, must repose upon the authority of demonstration, it mrst be based upon science, with a priesthood properly constituted out of the regene- rated scientific classes. In otlier words, the spiritual authority must issue from a philosophy wiiich can be demonstrated, not from a philosoohv which is imagined " (pp. 389, 390). f f / This year is remarkable also for his marriage with Caroline Massin, an event which exercised a pernicious "influence on his Ai i POSITIVISM. 287 after life. The marriage was singularly unhappy. He abso- lutely declined all religious ceremony in contracting it. After years of vexatious quarrels, the parties separated in 1842. "We may here add that in 1845, whilst his wife was yet living, he first met Madame Clotilde de Vaux, whose husband also was living, but condemned to the galleys for life. Mr. Lewes re- marks that each of them, though morally free, was legally bound. "Marriage being thus impossible," says our author, " they had only the imperfect yet inestimable consolation of a pure and passionate friendship." She died the next year. *' The remainder of his life was a perpetual hymn to her memory. Every week he visited her tomb. Every day he prayed to her, and invoked her continual assistance " (p. 401). The extrava- gant nonsense which Comte has written about this woman is almost incedible. To her influence he attributes whatever of tenderness his system exhibits. She was the Beatrice of the new Dante, and, had she lived, was destined to become the priestess, or rather the goddess of the new religion. At the time of his marriage Comte had but one pupil in mathematics: that pupil afterwards became General Lamoriciere. By the month of April, 1826, he had sufficiently matured his system for a dogmatic exposition, which he announced in a course of seventy-two lectures in his private rooms. It may well surprise us to find among his auditors men like Humboldt and Poinsot. After the third or fourth lecture the philosopher be- came insane. On Friday, 24th April, he went out and did not return. On Monday a letter came from Saint Denis, whither his wife hastened, but found him no longer there. She found him, however, at Montmorency, in a most alarming state. "When he grew calmer he expressed a wish to go out for a walk with his wife. " As they came to the edge of the lake of Enghien, he suddenly declared that, although he could not swim, he should not be drowned if he walked into the lake, and he began to drag his wife with him. She was young and strong, struggled, and caught hold of a tree, and saved them both " (p. 392). He was placed in an asylum, but his recovery was slow. His poor mother hurried from Montpellier to Paris to attend on him. On the day he quitted the asylum for his home his mother, aided by M. de Lamennais, succeeded in inducing him to contract mar- riage before the Church. At home, at the end of a week his recovery beo-an, and in three weeks he was left alone with his wife. More than once during this period he threw his knife at Madame Comte, to frighten her into compliance with his wishes. At the end of six weeks all danger was over. But such was the melancholy that overwhelmed hiiii at the idea that he could no lon^jer study as he bad done before, that he resolved upon f ! i i I •• i fill iilK ■■ I ■ 288 POSITIVISM. :M II suicide. He slipped out one day and threw himself into the Seine, but was rescued from death by a soldier, who plunged in after him. He expressed great regret for this attempt, and in July was well enough to visit his parents at MontpeUier. In 1828 he commenced his lectures, and this time was able to complete his course. In 1830 he published the first volume of his course ; the second, in 1835 ; the sixth and last in 1842. These twelve years were years of incessant toil. In 1833 he obtained an office in the P]cole Polytechnique, which, with other engagements, gave him an income of ten thousand francs. The publication of his work raised a storm against him which soon became so violent as to drive him from his official position. Once more he had to toil for his daily bread as teacher of mathematics. This change of circumstances developed the pre- posterous self-conceit of the man. We shall let Mr. Lewes tell how : — "With the publication of the Philosophie PoMfire he assumed his place among the great thinkers of all ages, but drew upon himself the bitter hatred of rivals and humiliated professors, which, being supported by the indignation of theologians, metaphysicians, and journalists, who were irritated at his dan- gerous doctrines and sweeping scorn, ended in driving him from hia official position. He was turned adrift once more to seek a laborious existence as a teacher of mathematics. The story is told by him in his preface to the sixth volume of the PhiloaoiMe Positive, and in fuller detail by M. Littre. It need not be repeated here ; the sad result is enough. To mitigate the blow, three Englishmen, Mr. Grote, Mr. Raikes Currie, and Sir W. Molesworth, through the intervention of Mr. John Mill, offered to replace the official salary for one year, understanding that at the end of the year Comte would be either rein- stated, or would have resolved on some other career. The year passed, but his re-election was again refused. At firet this troubled him but little. He had learned to regard the ' subsidy' of his admirers as his right. It was due from the rich to the philosopher ; and the philosopher could the more effectually use lis powers if all material anxieties were taken from him. This, however, was by no means the light in which the case was seen in England. Mr. Grote s°nt an additional six hundred francs, but a renewal of the subsidy was declined He was dreadfully exasperated, i remember hearing him speak of the refusal as if some unworthy treachery had been practised on him. I ^ried to explain as dehcately as I could what I conceived to be the point of view of his friends who declined to be his bankers ; but he had so entirely wrought himself into the persuasion that the refusal was a moral dereliction, and that no excuse could be offered for men who had wealth withholding a slight portion of it from thinkers, whose lives were of importance to the world, that I saw it was use- less. He had a fixed idea on the subject, and it may be seen expressed in haughty terms in his letter to Mr. Mill. If there is much to be said (and I think there is) in favour of his idea of the duty of the rich towards thinkers w.iose aims they approve, thero is also not a little to be said on the other side, and not a little blame attributable to his manner of urging his claims. He chose to assume a ' hauff marfMrature morale,' v,-hich others would not recog- nise. He professed to speak solely as a philosopher, but showed too much per- sonal preoccupation. It is sad to iiear that the result of this was a coolness on the part of Mr. Mill, and the cessation of a correspondence which he had valued .and to which Comte himself n.t.;-,apV,f. ^<->i''^es. and Adcnc'm. By Thomas Pearson. ■t Ihe Christ of the Gospels, #c. By John TuUoch, D.D. 1 Hi ^ lil 292 POSITIVISM. ^ ?ll j known under the name of George Eliot. In 1846, imitating the examples of Littre and Renan, she contributed her share of labour towards destroying faith in Christianity by translating Strauss's Life of Christ, and (in 1853) Feuerbach's Essence of Christianity. Besides these works, she published in the West- minster Jieview theological articles animated by the same prin- ciples. Under the name of George Eliot she rose to an eminent position among novelists by her S' ■'nesfrom Clerical Life, Adam Bede, and other works. As to the moral and religious purpose of her works it is not necessary to say much. When her early works, published under the name of George Eliot, first became famous, various conjectures were hazarded by critics as to the probable author. One critic* dwelt upon the testimony she unconsciously bore to the truth of Catholicism, and on the way in which she brought home to the conscience the doctrine of the Personality of God. Against this we have to say that there is no one doctrine which she denies more thoroughly than that there exists a personal God. Her views of religion are those of Goethe, who has been well described as a man of deep religious sentiments, with complete scepticism on most religious doctrines. With her, faith is an illusion; doctrines and creeds are but names for sentiments, useful only to turn "feelings into energies;" the substance of all religions is the same. And yet she speaks as if she had faith in Christianity. And in this, says the re- viewer above cited, she is not dishonest. For, although to the Positivist religious doctrines are only impressions on the imagi- nation, not corresponding with any reality in the universe, still they are necessary to enable man to turn his feelings into energies. Hence the Positivist can enter into the feelings of others, and to these others speak like believers in Christianity. A writer in the Westminster Review has said of her that she apparently regards creeds "as being only shells of different shape and colour, enclosing the fruit of the religious spirit common to the human race ; or as so many mental structures, which in his successive metamorphoses man forms and after- wards casts off." It is but fair, however, to observe that Mr. Lewes does not altogether share the religious views of M. Comte. First, be- cause in framing his rtligious system, Comte abandoned the historical method, whirn had guided him in his philosophical system, and went upon a purely speciilative basis. Next, because he made his religion into a system. He introduced a new Grand Etre, a new Bible, a new Catholic Church, a new calendar, a M * For these details concerning Mr. Lewes and Misa Evans see HotM and Foreign Review, No. vi., 186.3, Geoige Eliot's Novels. POSITIVISM. 293 new priesthood, new sacraments, a new spiritual po er, a new temporal power. At this point Mr. Lewes, to whom religion and system are incompatible terms, freed himself from his teach- ing ; and at this point he came under the influence of Goethe. Mr. John Stuart Mill, in his Si/stem of Logic, speaks in high praise of M. Comte's fundamental law of the progress of human knowledge.* This generalised law appears to him to have " That high degree of scientific evidence which is derived from th' concurrence of the indications of history with the probabilities derived fro i the constitu- tion of the human mind. Nor could it be easily conceived, from the mere enunciation of such a proposition, what a flood of light it lets in upon the whole course of history ; when its consequences are traced, by connecting with each of the three states of human intellect which it distinguishes, and with each successive modification of these three states, the correlative condition of other Bccial phenomf : . But whatever decision competent judges may pronounce on the results a . vdd at by any individual inquirer, the method now charac- terised is that in which the derivative laws of social order and of social law must be sought." In an elaborate exposition of the Positive Philosophy recently reprinted from the Westminster Review, Mr. Mill, although differing from M. Comte's system in many and important points, nevertheless adheres to it in the main. Finally, Positivism has at length made its appearance in Ireland. Its formulas have been heard in Trinity College, and, we deeply regret to say, from Catholic lips. It is a painful sign of the times to see a Catholic gentleman join without scruple in the praise which has been heaped on Positivism by so many who have made shipwreck of their Christian faith. But we have said enough for the present of the literature of Positivism ; \e system itself deserves more lengthened notice. tf^R''" II. Having glanced at the literature of Positivism, it is now time to proceed to examine the system itself. First of all, it may be asked, is Positivism a growth altogether new ? or is it rather an offshoot from philosophical systems which have already appeared in the world ? and if its connection with theories long since familiar can be established, how much of their charac- teristics does it retain? and what has it added from its own stores ? Positivism belongs of right to the sensational philosophy, and preserves the leading features of its parent school. The primary elements of all our knowledge are three in number, and philosophical systemsf differ one from the other according as * Vol. ii., p. 518, 4th ed., 1856. t See Morell's History of Modem Philosophy, 2nd ed., vol. i., p. 63. I i_ 'i ^ ■J H f 11''. i''M ' ' ■ ■ ■ 294 POSITIVISM. I? 1,4' they hold up one or the other of these three as the chief or sole element whence our ideas are derived. The three elements are : (i; the Idea of our own individual existence; (2) the idea of nature ol things that are not ourselves ; and (3) the idea of the Absolute or Eternal. The system which takes for its basis the trst of these dwells especially upon those striking facts of our consciousness which are our sensations, through which, as through a channel, comes much of the materials of our thought. Thus was formed the school of Sensationalism, represented by the l^rench encyclopaedists, and, in his tendency, by Locke. Others again, concentrate attention on the inherent powers of the inai- vidual mind, upon which they make the external world to depend subordinating the objective to the subjective, and hence the system of Idealism of Berkeley and Fichte. Those who bring mto prominence the idea of the Absolute, the Eternal, Pure i3eing, merge the world of phenomena and the phases of our own consciousness in the depths of Being jt;.r se, and subject and object being thus absorbed, we have the Pantheism of Spinosa, bchellmg, and otherc. Sensationalism, Idealism, and Pantheism represent therefore, the main currents of the phUosophical ten- dencies which have moved mankind. Modern Sensationalism received its impetus from Bacon, in whose system of analysis outward observation held the chief place, the importance of abstract ideas being made to yield to that of the study of external phenomena. In the inductive philosophy experience was made the principal part. Not that the Baconian spirit was so wedded to empirical research as to leave no place lor metaphysical analysis. On the contrary, bv endeavouring to point out a pUlomphia prima, and by calling upon Its followers to seek out the fonm of things, its influence o^th'e^l^ter^ philosophy was not altogether to the disadvantage ^ The principle of experience was thus established as the lead- ing principle of modern philosophy. Hobbcs developed it stiU larther, so as to make sensation the real basis of every mental operation, sole originator of ideas, and solo tost of truth. Now through sensation we can perceive only matter; hence, he con- cludes, matter IS the only reality. Hence scientific investigation was reduced by him to the doctrine of bodies, that is, of their exigence and changes. The doctrine of bodies includes "the knowledge of all phenomena, in relation to their probable causes, and ot all possible causes as known from their observed efPects." in the heat of the controversies, excited by the philosophy of Mobbes, John Locke became convinced that the disputants weia travelling by a wrong road ; that the first thing to be done was. not to analyse things or doctrines to their simpiest elements, POSITIVISM. 295 but to investigate the facilities of the mind, in order to see what objects lie within its reach, and what beyond it. Hence the famous Ussai/ on the Human Understanding. We cannot here stay to show how this work leads to materialism. Enough for our present purpose to show to what use Locke's principles, without his materialism, have been put in the hands of a school of thinkers of our own day. This modern school attempts to show, by metaphysical analysis, " that every notion springs from the senses as the original channels through which the whole material of thought has been supplied." The leader of this school is Mr. James Mill, in his Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind. Mr. John Stuart Mill, although he does not pledge himself to any metaphysical system, also belongs to this school. In this sketch of the sensational school of philosophy there are some broad and deeply marked lines which it will be of importance to point out more carefully to the reader. From the fundamental idea, that the sensations are the basis of our know- ledge, it was el^sy to pass, once the analytic method was estab- lished, to an exaggerated estimate of the value of outward observation of phenomena. This state of mind, acted on by Locke's doctrine concerning the proper limits of the intellectual faculties, ever tended more and more to confine scientific inves- tigation to the bare existence of phenomena. All these features are to be recognised again in the Positive Philosophy, which we shall now proceed to set forth. M. Comte begins by taking a comprehensive survey of the state of the intellectual world as represented in European civili- sation. He finds human knowledge to be in an utterly disjointed state. Conflicting systems of philosophy divide the schools; contradictory religions are multiplied in the churches. What one philosophy or religion asserts is refuted by another. A twofold cause of this intellectual confusion presents itself to his thoughts. "The human mind may be searching for truth beyond the legitimate region of its actual knowledge ; or it may not take a sufficiently comprehensive view of that truth which really does lie within its grasp." A true philosophy which would supply a remedy to so painful a disorder should, therefore, effect two things. First, it should define accurately the limits within which the mind may legitimately exercise itself in the search for truth ; and, s'^condly, it should give unity to science, by pointing out a secure pathway by which the elevation of a universal philosophy may be reached. The Positive Philosophy undertakes this double task. It endeavours, in the first Tilace-. to discard for ever from among the objects of thought all that regards the essential nature of things, their causes, either efficient i Mb • 1 \ 1 4 ! 1 I i I 296 "OSITIVISM. i,K ' ' r A -•T- m " or final, all speculation as to thoir origin or destination. " Wo have no knowledge of anything but phenomena ; and our know- ledge of phenomena is relative, not absolute. We know not the essence, nor the real mode of production, of any fact, but only its relations to other facts in the way of succession or of simili- tude. These relrtions are constant, that is, always the same in the same circumstances. The constant resemblances which link phenomena together, and the consequent sequences which unite them as antecedent and consequent, are termed their laws. The laws of plienomena are all we know respecting them. Their essential nature, and tlieir ultimate causes, either efficient or final, are unknown and inscrutable to us."* _ This golden rule has not been always grasped by the human mmd. On the contrary, M. Comte assures us, as a matter of history, that +wo other methods of philosophising, antagonistic to his method and to each other, have successively swayed humanity, as well in the aggregate as in individuals. The law of progress thus embraces three distinct stages, called by him respectively the Theological, the Metaphysical, and the Positive. Mr. Mill believes that these terms, especially in the English language, are not quite suited to the purpose, as they excise ideas other than those intended. Hence, instead of the Theo- logical he would prefer to speak of the Personal or Volitional explanation of nature ; instead of the Metaphysical, the Abstrac- tional or Ontological ; instead of the Positive, the Phenomenal or Experiential. In the Theological stage the mind regards the phenomena of the universe as operations of divinities. First, each object is looked upon as animated. Next, each entire class of objects or events is believed to be under the superintendence of an invis- ible being. Finally, the multitude of divinities is merged in a single God, who made the world, and guides it either by his continued action, or by specially interfering from time to time. In the Meiaphysical stage phenomena are accounted for by being ascribed not to volitions, but to rf.alised abstractions. Instead of the Dryads presiding over trees, every plant is now supposed to have a vegetative soul. These various forces at last termmate in the universal idea of Nature, which, though re- garded as impersonal, is supposed as acting in a sort of motion : as when we say. Nature abhors a vacimm. In the Positive stage, finally, the palpable facts of the pheno- mena are alone attended to with the view of discovering the laws of their co- existence and succession. Every other question concerning them is ignored. •J. S. Mill, Augutte Comte and Poiitivism, p. 6. POSITIVISM. 29; Every single science which can occupy the human mind must invariably pass through this triple stage, from the theological, through the metaphysical, into the positive. This last is des- tined, says Mr. Mill (p. 12), finally to prevail, by the universal recognition that all phenomena, without excoption, are governr i by invariable laws, v"t.h which no volitions, either natural or supernatural, interfere. But the different branches of know- ledge do not pass from one of those stages to the other equally and at the same time. Some sciences are more advanced than others. Thus astronomy, physics, and chemistry have already arrived at the positive stage, whereas physiology, or biology, is only at the metaphysical ; while the whole science of humanity (sociology) is yet in its earliest stage, being hampered with the false idea of a Providence and a God. M, Comte's division of the sciences deserves more praise than anything else he has achieved. The sciences are not independent one of the other, but arc so arranged that each depends upon a preceding one less compl. X than itself, whose laws i* takes up with an addition of its own, and then sends on to the science next in order. Thus, the truths of Number are true of all things, and depend only on their own laws ; therefore the science of Number (arithmetic and algebra) may be stated without any reference to any other science. On this principle M. Ccmte has arranged the sciences in a series, each term of which is an advance beyond the term preceding it, the phenomena belonging to it being determined by a more numerous combination of laws: 1st, Mathematics (Number, Geometry, Mechanics); iind, Astronomy ; 3rd, Physics; 4th, Chemistry; 5th, Biology; 6th, Sociology, or the Social Science, the phenomena of which depend on the truths of aU the other sciences. Thus all the sciences are co-ordinated ; thus the entire edifice rises by degrees to its last and noblest stage, the science of man. Thus the experimental study of facts, and facts only, is made the secure and solid pathway to universal philosophy. Before we pass on to consider Positivism from the religious point of view (for to its religious bearings we intend in confine our remarks) it may be well to observe that Comte's syttem can make no honest claim to vhaterer credit belongs to the induc- tive philosophy. Bacon's "mission," says Dr. Newman,* was the increase of physical enjoyment and social comfort ; and most wonderfully, most awfully, has he fulfilled his conceptioa and his design. Almost day by day have we fresh and fresh shoots and buds and blossoms, which are to ripen into fruit on that magical tree of knowledge which he planted, and to which none *DiBuoune8 on University Education, Disc, iv., p. 192. m •t ':'! 298 POSITIVISM. I 11 IL! m i I of us perhaps, except the very poor, but owes, if not his present me, at least his daily food, his health, and general well-beinff He was the divinely provided minister of temporal blessings, to all ot us so great that, whatever I am forced to think of him as a man, I have not the heart, from mere gratitude, to speak of him severely. And, in spite of the tendencies of his philosophy Which are as we see at this day, to depreciate or to trample on theology, he has himself, in his writings, gone out of his way, as li with a prophetic misgiving of those tendencies, to insist oa It as the instrument of that beneficent Father who * when He came on earth in visible form, took on Himself first and most prominently the oftce of assuaging the bodily wounds of human nature. Now, Positivism completely discards this providential mission of knowledge, and altogether refuses to admit into its circle the idea of God. Besides, the inductive philosophy admits apnori axioms, and speaks of a Philosophia Prima; Positivism rejects them: the former includes our inner consciousness among the subjects to which its principles maybe applied • the latfer limits its observation to outward facts. Bacon, after observation, seeks to discover the nntures of things; Comte holds axl investigation into the essences of things to be useless and impossiblo. Systems, which are kept apart by differences other''^"''''''^ '"^ ^''''^''' '"'''" ^"''''*' ^'"^'' ""^^^^^ """^ ^'''^^ *^® Again, the law of intellectual progress laid down by M Comte, as consisting of the triple stage, theological, metaphysical! and positive, fills an important place in his system According to liim, every branch of science must invariably pass through these stages in succession. What is to be said of this law ? \Ve shall find, upon analysis, that this law, as expressed by M Comte, includes two statements; first, that every science which can occupy the intellect, has invariably passed, or must necessarily pass, through the theological, metaphysical, and posi- tive stages ; second, that the metaphysical stage supplants the the.) ogical, and in turn is supplanted by the positive. Neither o± these statements can be established by induction from the history of the sciences. Which of the sciences exhibits this triple stage of progress ? M. Comte replies at once by namins astronomy But admitting for a moment that his theory is borne out by tlie history of astronomy, what other science has commenced with the theological stage? Dr. Whewellf shows ^11'/.*""° *"•"'' '"^"P'"'" ^"•''^ rogamus ne humana divinis officiant ; neve ex '^MacmiiiansMixgazim, Comtf! and Positivism, ilLMQh,\&m. ' POSITIVISM. 299 that Physics has not, and quotes Adam Smith's saying, that there was never a god of weight. Nor did chemistry begin with a theological stage, although it, too, had a theological or mytho- logical period, but that period was not its first. In the ages of alchemy, the substances on which chemists operated were per- sonified in a most remarkable and lively manner. " Gold was the king of metals," says Dr. Whewell (p. 354), "silver the queen. An object much aimed at was to obtain the regulus, the metallic young one of the more imperfect metals." So, also, astronomy arrived among the Greeks at a precision whi'ih con- ferred on its discoveries a value so lasting, that even to-day they form part of the science, and yet long afterwards the period of astrology came on. If the law were accurate, it must follow that the theological stage has long since been superseded in the case of very many of the sciences ; for M. Comte himself admits that the crowning science of sociology is the most backward of all, for the very reason that it is still in the theological stage. Now, in this case, the early ages ought to be the only religious ages, or the most religious ages. This, however, is far from being the case. Leaving out of consideration a few so-called philosophers, who are not more numerous now than ever, the entire human race with one accord admits the existence of a Supieme Being, even although some nations outrage his majesty by giving to false gods the homage which the true and Living God alone can claim. M. Comte asserts, moreover, that even in individual minds this triple stage may be observed: in our childhood we refer everything to God ; in our youth, to meta- physical abstractions ; in our riper years we advance to Posi- tivism. This may be true of M. Comte, who, as we have seen, shook off all religion almost with his boyhood ; but is it true of those great minds who, while they were kings of science, were at the same time, according to their own views, the most religious of men i^ Of such men Newton may be taken as a type. We admit, however, that in some of the natural sciences men attributed in the beginning to God functions which, after inves- tigation, had been traced to natural causes. Thus, in early times men believed the heavenly bodies to be gods, or to be guided by gods. But at this stage science had not begun at all; it was but the preliminary to science. Nor is it true to say that, as a science progresses, the meta- physical supplants the theological, to be in turn supplanted by the positive stage. What we have already observed of astro- nomy and cliemistry is a proof of this. But Dr. Whewell does not hesitate to nssnrt that there is no Hr.ieriPo in v/hich this nre- tended succession of a metaphysical an positive stage can be li'^ i i fl lit 300 THE IRISH CAKDINAL. pointed out. "There is no science in which the discovery of laws o± phenomena, when once begun, has been carried on inde- pendently of discussions concerning ideas, whiah must be called metaphysical if anything be so called. There is no science in winch the expression of the laws of phenomena can at this time dispense with ideas which have acquired their place in science in virtue of metaphysical considerations. There is no science in wbich the most active disquisitions concerning ideas did not come after no\. before, the first discovery of the laws of pheno- mena. 1 his may be exemplified in all sciences which have made any progress. Kepler's discoveries would never have been made but tor his metaphysical notions. And again, those discoveries ot the laws of phenomena did not lead immediately to Newton's theory, because a century of metaphysical discussion was requisite as a preparation" (p. 854). The truth is that all three stages may and do co-exist in such proportions as are determined by the peculiar nature of each several science. The sphere of each becomes more accurately defined as the science progresses ; but the most accurate positive Jmowledge of the laws of co-existence and sequence of pheno- mena can never clash with the natural tendency of the human mind to refer these phenomena to their causes, and to seek beyond all secondary causes a primary and first cause upon which all depends. It is wise to observe accurately and patiently what IS passing in the world around us; it is wise to seek, as tar as we can, the nature and causes of what we observe; but it 18 wisest to trace every finite contingent being to the First Cause, the God who created all things. I Jli i i H PI! I ' i 11 ' [ THE IRISH CARDIx\AL. In the Consistory of the 22nd June our Holv Father, Pope Pius *5®^^i^*' conferred upon the Archbishop or Dublin the honour ot the Cardinalate. In this event the Irish Church has a Witi- mate subject of great joy. The entire Catholic Church on earth, to use bt. Augustme's words, is like a pilgrim whoso pathway lies between the persecutions of the world and the consolations of heaven; but for the Catholic Church of Ireland, during !* ' THE IF.ISH CARDINAL. 301 several centuries, the persecutions have far outnumbered the consolations. To-day, however, we salute with gladness the be- ginning of a happier period ; and in the creation of an Irish Cardinal we recognise the sure pledge of its approach. To form a correct estimate of the value of an honour con- ferred upon another, we should take into account the character of him who confers it, the measure of honour bestowed, and the order of merit of which it is the acknowledgment. Considered under each of these respects, the honour conferred upon the Irish Church, in the person of Cardinal Cullen, will be found so remarkable as to justify us in regarding it as one of the happiest events in the later history of our Church. The creation of an Irish Cardinal is exclusively the work of Pius the Ninth himself. It is not necessary in this place to lay stress upon the sublime dignity of the Iloraan PontifP, nor to speak of the power he exercises over the entire earth. When we have said that he is the Vicar of Christ, the Centre of Unity, the Head of the Church, we have said all we need to say. But it should not be forgotten that there is hardly one of the titles and offices of honour now in existence in Europe which does not derive, directly or indirectly, from the Roman Pontiff. He has been at all times for the civilised world the chief foimtain of honour. How truly honoured then is he whom the Eoman Pontiff delights to honour! And how singularly honoured when, of all the long lino of Roman Pontiffs, it is Pius the Ninth who delights to honour him ! Between Pius the Ninth and every form of baseness, and of meanness, and of wrong, there exists uncompromising hostility. Between Pius the Ninth and all that is noble and truthful, and loyal, and holy, there is closest sympathy. Of all living men, not one loves justice and hates iniquity with greater energy than Pius the Ninth. It is, then, a legitimate source of gratification to Irish Catholics that a Roman Pontiff, and that Pontiff Pius the Ninth, should be- stow upon their mother Church so signal a mark of his esteem. But it is even more than a mark of esteem. It is a solemn act of recognition on the Sovereign Pontiff's part of the loyal devotion ever exhibited by Ireland to that chair, which is the centre of unity in the Church. From the Sjmod of St. Patrick to the Synod of Thurles an intense, unswerving devotion to St. Peter's successor has been the distinguishing mark of the Irish Church. Not now for the first time has this devotion been re- cognised by the Holy See, but now for the first time with so splendid a requital. The Cardinalate is the highest honour in the gift even of the Roman Pontiff, who is the most augv.sf^^ riilcr in the world. i . (i I Its functions are the noblest that man can be called upon to ' 302 'xUE IRISH CARDINAL. K'lf -^** fi 'f! discharge, namely, to take part with the Vicar of Christ in the government of the Universal Church. Its purple makes those who wear it the equals of kings. The flower of the human race, the men who were conspicuous above all others for singular gifts of sanctity and learning, are upon the roll of the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church. And what in the present case enhances the honour is the character of the time in which it has been conferred. The war which the gates of holl incessantly wage against the Church was nevermore deadly than at present It IS no longer this or that part of the House"^of God, but the entire Christian revelation which is assailed. Persistent efforts are being made all over the world to uproot the very founda- tions of religion ; in the intellectual order, by means of a philo- sophy which makes the Christian demonstration impossible • in the social order, by sharply separating secular from relio-ious education, and refusing to admit the Church's rights in matters of teaching; and in an especial manner by destroying the tem- P^i, • 1. ^^^^ependence of the Roman Pontiff, who is the rock on which Christianity is built. From his watch-tower on the walls of the city of God Pius the Ninth beholds these assaults, and gathers around him a sacred band of the most devoted, the ablest, and most prudent among the prelates of the Church. If the Cardinalate be at all times and under every circumstances an honour beyond the honours of earth, how much more brilliant does it become when it is at once the place of honour and the post of responsibility and danger ! Of the personal merits of Cardinal Cullen we may not ven- ture, for obvious reasons, to speak of at any length in these pages Ihat we owe, m a great measure, to those merits the honours conferred upon the Irish Church in his person is plain from the language of the allocution itself. We are at full liberty, how- ever to speak of the merits he has now acquired in the eyes of his countrymen as the man who has restored Catholic Ireland to her place in the public opinion of the world, as one among the Cathohc nations of the earth. For several centuries our history has been a uniform recital of incessant efforts towards contra- dictory solutions of the question : shall Ireland continue to exist as a i^athohc nation ? On the one hand, to destroy our Catholic nationality were arrayed a thousand forms of brute force, cruel laws, and state-craft, while to defend it we had but heroic faith and heroic patience. It was a modern rendering of the unequal ^^ ij of old, between the mighty who came with sword and shield and spear against those whose orly weapon v as the name of the Lord of Hosts. Those who have watched the conflict from close at hand have long since seen upon what side the vic- tory has remained. In spite of all the power of her foes, Iro- I THE IRISH CARDINAL. 303 land has preserved her Catholic nationality distinct and entire. That she remains a Catholic nation is now admitted even by Protestant publicists, whose ingenuity is every day more and more tasked to invent philosophic theories by which to explain away the fact which they cannot deny. But the creation of an Irish Cardinal is a public acknowledgment in face of the world that Ireland has been victorious in her arduous struggle. It is the world's verdict that the weak has vanquished the strong, that every attempt to rob her of her fuith has been a shameful failure, and that, as a Catholic nation, Ireland is worthy to have one of her sons seated as her representative in the Sacred Colic o-e of Cardinals. ° And, as if to make this testimony the more eloquent, it is not a little remarkable that the church which has been assigned to the new Cardinal as his title is the very spot, of all others, on which the past and present of Ireland may best be contrasted. The Church of San Pietro, in Montorio, is the last resting-place of Prince Hugh O'Neill, and of Eugene Mathews, Archbishop of Dublin. The cloisters of the adjoining convent were often trodden by the feet of Fr. Luke Wadding, who, before St. Isidore's was built, lived at San Pietro, aud there commenced his great work. These three men are worthiest types of the three best glories of Catholic Ireland ; of the princely valour, of the priestly zeal, and of the sacred learning which have ever been the characteristics of her sons. During a struggle of three hundred years, valour, and zeal, and learning were lavishly ex- pended in the glorious cause of Ireland's Catholic nationality, and for that crime prince, and bishop, and scholar were driven to find an exile's grave in a foreign land. But at length the just God, in whom they trusted when oppressed, has been mind- ful of _ his great mercy. From their very ashes He has caused to spring a throne upon which an Irish Cardinal— at once prince, bishop, and scholar— is the living proof that at length their cause is triumphant. Nor does the glory of the Irish Church, thus triumphant to-day, pale before the glories of the Irish Church of past ages. If, in the days of persecution, her scattered children went weep- ing from their home, with their tears they cast the seed of the faith; and now coming, they come with jov, carrying their sheaves of the new churches they have founded. In America, in Australia, in Africa, in Asia, in the missions watered by Irish sweat and Irish blood, the name of the Irish Cardinal will be honoured and bljssed by millions of his race. Their interests shall be his care, their spiritual welfare his solicitude. And not least among the merits of Cardinal Cullen do we .if onimt it that through him it has been given to the Irish exiles dispersed over m 1 1 i , 's I j' tlil 304 THE LAST THIRTY YEARS IN THE ENGLISH CHURCH. the world to find close to the throne of the Sovereign Pontiff a powerful protector, whose prudence will guide them in their doubt, whose lips will plead for them in their distress, and whose heart will ever turn towards them in love, as a father ever turns in love towards hio children. l!/,i i 'II THE LAST THIRTY YEARS IN THE ENGLISH CHURCH* The history of the inner life of a soul which has been carried along by the Catholic movement till it has touched the very threshold of the Church, and which yet refuses either to enter the Church or to relapse into Protestantism, is a history which at the present time commands attention. Unfortunately it is the history of too many. AYhen we consider how widespread has been the movement towards Catholicism, and how deeply in all ranks of life men's hearts have been stirred, it is plain that the handful, so to speak, which has been gathered into the Church is by no means an adequate result of the mighty influ- ences that have been outpoured upon the land. What is the nature of the obstacle that has hindered so much good ? "What manner of reasoning is that which suspends so many souls be- tween Anglicanism and the Catholic Church, so that they, while they uepart from , a one, refuse to enter the other ? Some answer to this question may be gathered from an autobiography of which we desire to give in this place some account to our readers. It is headed The last thirty years in the English Church, and is presented to the public as an essay in the form of a narrative.t Though it chronicles the experiences o± a smgle mdividual only, this narrative is nevertheless the history of an entire, and that a numerous class : of those, namely who ever seek a middle term between Protestantism and Catho- licism. With some of those who joined the movement the Pro- testant influences were preponderant, and those fell away into the*Solic ChS.'''^' "^"""^ *''" ^^^- ^- ^'"'P'^y ^*' ^""° ^^^"^^'^ i"*o ^Essays on Questions of the Day, By various writers. Edited by the Rav. THE LAST THIRTY YEARS IN THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 305 rationalism. With others the Catholic influences were victori- oas, and those, again, were gathered into the Church. But the great remaining body, yielding exclusively to the action of neither, passed first from Evangelical Protestantism to AngH canism as to a via media between the Reformation and Borne refu.eTnTi'' • '^"^^^^^^ "T ^-g^-^^--^ -e now tSg retuge in Unionism as a second via media between Anc^licanism and Rome. Thus the history of the Catholic mover^rS En^ 2/;?-?, *^" ^:i'^S' P^^^°^^' '^'^ remarkable for a 4 Zl^nisht^f^\,*n\^'t'•'^''^^^ ^^°"^ protestantism, and inn?S A n!r ^' ^^^'',^ '^ Anglicanism ; the second, start- uLnTs^ ^vw '.T' '^ '*"PP^"« '^''^^ °f t^e Church in Unionism._ ^\hat the Tracts were for the first period, the fTv\"n '"^ f '."' '^<^""^^^ f«^ t^« second. In the first the Catholic Church m England was looked upon as a schi m • in the second, she is looked upon as a sister. ^It is of the Thir v l^Z^Z Tr ^' ff- ^^"'^^i"« ^^-«- ^- ^-- effecTed tS .n Fn^r V 1 ' autobiography treats. She is the daughter of an English clergyman, and, in what she tells us of her early r; wSto' b %'"'' ^'t^^ '' ^^^ ^^^n^eMc.l Protestanti S tbp W / ^''''^^"; The attainment of respectability with the due performance of the social duties of life, certain specified devotional exemses and the subdual of sin in the soul formed the standard of Evangelical perfection in that day. The Evan- gelicals held by Episcopacy rather as a matter ^of good order than as a divinely instituted authority; supernatural grace, as tied to sacerdotal acts they were inclined to^epudiate. " Among the Evangelicals of this school our authoress was brought up^ mitigacedly bad, and full of I^estorian heresy. She studiS with more than usual attention, various works denouncing Roman Catholic and Greek idolaters. And yet, strange to say, the first great desire she felt was to receive the Sacrament. O bv this desire, she not only remained, of her own accord, for the additional service at Church, but also at home used often to practise acts of spiritual communiou, though at that time she had never heard of the practice. Once she'attempted a Snd of examination of conscience, but soon gave up the attempt in de- spair, having been told it was an impossibility, " that there was not a moment or an action of our lives that was not full of In'' trTf i!'"""^ ^'T '^^ .^''^ ^^^^^ «f *^e Oxford tracts, and great was her wonder to hear the clergy who came to see her WmTs^rrf r.^ 1^^"f '' ang?^ about them. Trthur Zf!'' ^P.VP^^ °^ ^er father's, and who is still a distinguished leader 01 tne movement, became infected with the new views. liiere was much low-voiced speaking and sad condemnation 21 i; i . I M' !: I 30( ) TIIK I,AST TinUTY YRAUS IN THE KNCU.ISU CIIUlUTr. Ei>Ji l 1 going on, not, however, sluired to any great degree by my father^ from whicli I could at first only gather tliat there was a terrible Dr. Pusey, and a no less terrible ]\Ir. Newman, putting forth sadly wicked things, and that my father's dear pupil, Arthur Willis, was departing from the teaching of his early days. Be- sides Willis, another member of the family plunged into a fierce partisanship of the tracts, and this gave occasion to much childish controvoivsial zeal. " I well remember sitting on a clergyman's knee and abusing the Pope in terms for which I ought lo have had my ears boxed, but which were thouglit rather' amusing." This bigoted prejudice ruled her soul until she was about tlie age of thirteen. At that date three events occurred which hid to a great change in her opinions. First, she read the tracts, and found that they were not so wicked as she had been led to expect ; secondly, she heard her first choral service at West- minster Abbey ; and thirdly, she had a visit from some cousins rather older than herself who were under the influence of the moyeinent. They had wonderful arguments ou the subject in their little way, and our authoress always got the worst of them. She also began to learn that the superstition ascribed to lloman Catholics and Puseyites was not invariably true. " It was some- where about this time, too, that I first read with, and was startled by, the expression, • God died for man,' and I perceived that up to that time I had never really believed in our Lord's divinity at all." Confirmation, the Communion that followed, the use of Wilberforcc's Envharistica as an altar manual, and, above all, the third volume of Dr. Pusey's Plain Scnnons, helped principally to dislodge her imfounded early prejudices. " Tiio last-named work brought definitely before me the duty of self-denial in things lawful, and of fasting and mortification. Then every day increased the desire to have the advice of some priest. Confes- sion had never entered ray head ; but to be helped and counselled was becoming almost a necessity. ... I held the English Church to be the only uncorrupt branch of the Church, and supposed myself bound to accept every word of her formularies." Ac- quaintance with lioman Catholics, the study of church archi- tecture and restoration, interior trials, and the example of devout friends, gave an importance to the notion of confession, which in- creased day by day. At last, after much struggling, she resolved, in the autumn of 1849, to make a confession to Mr. Willis' now a _ married clergyman, and accordingly she spoke to him about it : "He quite agreed that confession would do me a great deal of good )nit •tecidedly declined to hear nie himself. Confessions, he thought,, sl.nnid not be made to intimate friends ; but, if I liked, he would write for me to a priest he knew m London, and get him to undertake my case. I had not contemplated 1 'nnc .AST TH.HTV VEAHS IN THE ENGLISH C„UHC„. 307 S&«^";.S.zCi;:;?7te,^S,i,sljrr'^n^^^^^^ ^ '««or fro. '"" IMTooivc that I i,a.l lust v on .,^1' ^?r ««l^-"-''=^'"i"ation. which, n°U ...".Jt .liHtant idea hcnv a Sji ^^^^^^^ *" '- '--uly. I hn.l , t o \] tal>lc for u,y own soul. \'o av" elt -n '"'"-ii' V"^ *''''^* ^ ^^''^''^ couKl . f at the thought of the alt itSl'f b';' u lonl ."'.l' '"'' ""-■'' -M-ln/nHion' tL„' •;..l« into he here, kneohng at the altar rail, until he turned ',' .""'*"'" *'"^" '" ^''i^to' co tw prayer., took his place b^ my si le M " ^ ' ''■" ""''l'''"'-'' ami, after a I ours on t«o sucee.ssivc days, so Iohl' a tim, l^- ''°"^'^'*«'"» occunie.l nearly six .e unporfect preparation which. 'l^^'^m^S-aT."*'' u:^^'' '» ->-^"l-"^«= "^ cient. Years have passed since f)».n *>, "' '^"*'' - -l ''■i^« "ever even when conf(.ssion is over ; but vet If,/'. ^"^,';^"> "^eans but iniperfectlv acts and still nun-e the relati-eS^^^ *'^« g"i't of iLlivTdS n.'s, n?^'""','"^ J'f«. ean be kno Jn in no othe wav A T.^l"''^''' ^"'i *» "ho mass of careless, unspiritual A.i.dicans wl n nlT". "^^ *'"•' accounts for the great sins, but never seem to mX 1 i "''S'^'^* confession, and who ivnTi ound out the mischief of my We tlc„ InlTt "' ^'^ ''^'"^'- I- at a le^, °',^ t..ne of the Sacrament of Pe,fa ce I looked m^P'^l^' '"^ "ews' were at thai ....nster ; and I did not see tlult t 4s our lK ^''i''^* """ '' eommissionHd fessing, and who was speakintr to m^ r.n. r i t """^el^ to whom I was con the confessor's words are no tis own' W S .1'"'' •■*' ^ '^^^^ «een since tint who regulates them in a way of which til f-'^'/l "'"•^'- ^^"^ eontro of One neT' ' Ir^ ^7"'^ *° '^onfeL'ion thinktg mvsel? riir^'" '^ ^'^"''^^"^ "neon? I cison on the whole, though I had none^nf f^l!n • ,**''*''' ** ^"°^ «ort of youn^ tatho ics, that my own doings were of the leaiV ''\^^' PoP^l^^iy attribut^ed to bS^ :;'^-°St bis a'fS:;^!:]^': i^^^iS £-? 01 mh. of a precipice. ^^^m^ 01 naving been rescued from the I m \ i ' '■; 'T: 308 THE LAST THIRTY YEARS IN THE ENGLISH CHURCH. "The scene of the confession itself I couhl not venlure to recall. It was months before I could let my thoughts return to it ; and even now I cannot dwell upon it without the shrinking with which, in after life, men recall a severe surgical operation, although they mry also feel, as I feel, a deep thank- fulness for its results." 1 1 m I From the manner in which, in tins extract, "Anglicans" are contrasted with "Protestants," and distinguisliod from them as one form of religion is distinguished from another, the reader may learn how completely the writer was already changed from an Evangelical Protestant into an Anglican Catholic. The time was now at hand when she was to be brought face to face with events and arguments, the force of which was to overthrow the \^'hole fabric of the Anglican theory. The events of the year 1850 were necessarily a source of dis- quiet to such as were under the influence of tile Catliolic move- ment. The Gorham judgment brought numberless anxieties and difficulties to their minds. It was on this occasion that the possibility of leaving the English Church first came btxore the writer. In vain she sought to lean upon her trusted adviser, Mr. Goodwin ; every time she visited him she found him more and more hopeless. In May he informed her that he found no Church open to him but the Roman, although he intended to wait until everything should have been tried. " His view of the case was, that the Chunh of England had given up to the State or Civil Power that jurisdiction over doctrine which was com- mitted to the Church's own exclu^^ive keeping by our Lord Him- self, and so he felt that he must leave her." But he would not sanction his penitent's attending any Catholic service, or taking any step until all hope should finally be over. But for tliis advice she declares that unquestionably she would have become a Roman Catholic then. In obedience to it, she declined an opportunity of conversing with Dr. Newman, and wlieii slie luid actually set out from home to the nearest Roman Catholic chapel, intending to consult the priest, this very advice caused her to return. However, she had an interview'with " a distinguished preacher and confessor in our own communion," to" whom she made known her state, and what an awful step she felt leaving the Church to be. lie ivm at that time, aWiouyh no one knew it, meditating secession himself. She declined to comply with his wish, that she should write out a statement of her difficulties to be laid before Dr. Pusey, and circumstances prevented her from meeting him again. Thus thrown on her own resources, she set herself to read and to think. She did not conceal her difficulties from her friends, nor what she thought would be the probablu result. At length Mr. Willis came to the rescue, and urged upon tjer that THE LAST THIKTY YEARS IX THE ENOUSH CHURCH. 309 which now turned urn" Vlio f' - '"^''^^ ^^'' '^^'^culties. marv fn ;>,! J^^ 1?^ . ^"*^''® question of the RovalSunrp Seglt^eSomZ'i^^^^^^ "^""^ ^'^'^^^^^^^ totheconclu/onwhirj^r P ^^^°°^''''"^/^"'^ ^^'"^ came that the truth o? the Trident^TJ r-'T'^'"'^ ^^ hismreuicon, falsity of that of the Fn S nt doctrine by no means proved the Viro.,-n in o Z^, .perceived that the veneration of the Blessed show ng the d gnTtv ataTh' dT"^ '^''^^^ «"^ Divine Jdb^ Incarna^tion aXhat PrnW . ''''^y^^i^S connected with thi practically degrade Him t '' '^^^^"^^ '^'Y course, are shocked at 'i^vt ""'1°^ ^. '^^'^*' ^"^ then, o^ Him. "* ^"^ ^""^^^ c^^at^re being compared with attentn'"ltinltt:f''°^'' ^P^^"^^^>^ «*^" «-"P-d her the spiritual supremacforih'''"' '''' '' '^^'''^^ '' ^'' ^^at intell?ionalactTt^nfIite;r"^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^ indeed, or so I then inXw!?}^ k i ^^ "^""^ ^ ^^^^ made, bv the Church and o, t f ' ^^i *^' sovereign, but rejected time went on,' an T.^ foitoe^n?^ surreptitiously assumed as silenced." Besides £ZT\^?'''''^''\''''^ convocation was macy was true she fXprff^.'^^'i-/"'^^'^ "^°^* ^^^ ^'^Pre- succLionnoTtheU;^^^^^^^^^ ^^-^ '^^ ^ngih "The.e were tcml.lc montl,,, .,,,1 ';s2;'?>: '"?"?''» .'■" .<='<»"-»t ex,„«. earthly motives. They were even to tl '"'"'* «/ the preponderance of ana I lo^■e,l the Anglican serv ce far.nore t . T? P'-'^'l-'eot-on, on one side ; ing one of the best ■•'•-■■•'•"' ^ ''°"°^^' ^ ('l,n,. 1 1 "^"^^ <""ti. cue , '^■lucn, iiiiless slie sinned sntli.'iiMif'i- nf ti J r ""■"." i""" 'Ji me uamonc -.tt.ng l,er off: and therl „.' a .'.l- 1 U^^S'T''"'! -'V^'^'^^y ^'"'"^ '" %. never reganled the severanr^fth/^n '"'J'"* ""^ i"vestigation i'-'ghsh Ch,.rch1,erself. IliVto •v\^^. n *;™,«'"»""»"o"« a. the act Sf the '»>«l't be a foundation for te char ;^,;>p.'f fVr''' ^^'^ ' t''°"«''t *'>«> again..t iier. "- ''"•"Ses of Protestant lieresy which v/erS brougi "There was ,1 fnno /^f „_ ^ ^■le wasa tone of argument current at that time which lere ht accused the ,1 • i I 310 THE LAST THIRTY YEAUS IN THK KXOl.lSH CHURCH. •■ i' • ill k "A" English Church of intentionally making her formulariea amhiguoua to admit lieretica ; but it seemed to me then, when I came to inquire, and does still seem, that tlie cordial acceptance of the former Liturgy, in which the language on the disputed points was decisive, is a proof that the Church meant lier words to he understood in no Protestant sense. And so, I think, by degrees my doubts sank down into a fear, whether 1 was not disregarding the leadings of the Holy Spirit, by not following one whoso advice had l)eon so blessed to me, and whether I was not allowing earthly motives to weigh down and ovcr))alance the pleadings of a higher call. About this time I received decisive orders from my father that I was to go to Mr. Goodwin no more. I wrote to him at once ami told him so. He s.nt nie an affectionate farewell, begging me to do nothing on impulse, and reminding me that the truth would bear any amount of investi- gation ; but also not to resist the leadings of the Holy Spirit, nud to set eter- nity before me in all my decisions. I parted from him with gre^c sorrow ; but I felt that it was no doing of my own, and that there coukl be no shadow of reason for disobedience to this parental command, as I was not cut off from confession itself. I never again heard from him, and missed him when I after- wards called. He entered the Eoman Catholic Church some months afterwards, and died in that communion a few years ago. I think this separation virtually disposed of one ditHculy, bat still the other remained. " Almost a necessary consequence of my at length deciding that I had no ground for quitting tiio Anglican communion was a marriage engagement. For a time it seemed as if it would be almost well to resign this, with mutual con- sent, as a test of sincerity. I consulted one whose advice Catholics in our days have always been accustomed to look upon with great reverence, and received a careful answer. He told me that, believing me right in remaining iu the English communion, ho could not advise as t'.iough it were doubtful. He thought 'it hardly possible that earthly motives could have changed my whole way of viewing the relations of the English and Koman Churches impercep- tibly ;' and 1. j believed ' that I had been carried away for the time by the general disquiet, and by argument on one side, and that when this impression had sub- sided I should see things as before. ' Looking back at this distance of time, I think he was right. To a Boman it would, of course, appear that I had a decided call into the true Church, and allowed myself to reject it for earthly reasons. Certainly every year of reading and reflection since, wliile it has removed many prejudices, and awakened more. and more strongly my reverence for the Eoman Church, and taught me the great beauty of her services, does not lead me for one moment to think the grounds upon which I then contemplated leaving the English communion otherwise than entirely mistaken. Had the Eoman Church been the only true one, and had I then entered her fold, I must still have felt nov/ that I came to a right decision from a falsified view of facts. Whether re- nunciation of the worldly advantages gained by my decision might not have been the higher course is another matter ; and I do not suppose that in this world I shall ever resolve the question, in itself now a useless one. I know that the path I chose, which I trusted would have led to an active life of special devotion to God's work, has carried me into regions of suffering and desolation, perhaps lower, perhaps higher, than those to which I aspired. I was directed to pray for serious illness if -.vhat I had done in this matter was not in accord- ance with the will of God, and ". have never been well since ; but I would not part with one day's suffering now. It is not till we emerge from our entangled path on to the mountain-top that we can see wheter it is higher than the emi- nence we had intended to ascend. But that it has been bfttcr for me, whether higher or lower, I doubt nothing ; and 1 know now that services offered as mine were offered, and accompanied with so much evil, could never have been accepted. But I knew nothing of this then ; and the life to which I had always looked forward see.med about to be realised. A difficulty arose, 'lappily only temporary, about the Sacrament of Penance, as administered by the priest whn was to become my confessor. It is one of the many instances in which I felt that, if temptation had not been mercifully withdrawn, I should probably have been led to comproniise my principles." THE LAST THIRTY YEARS IN THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 311 €atifoLtm?l"*rfi^%*^ '*'^^^^" between Anglicanism and ^.atiiohcism , she definitely made up her mind that she had no «o.md reason for quitting the Anglican communion and tha? the grounds upon which she had for a moment contemr.lated leaving ,t were not otherwise than entirely mistaken Zdvef .he adnnts that da by day her reverence L RTmeg^ew^^^^^^^ and greater and that the authority of a divinely jruided CWh appeared to her absolutely necess Jry to sar^ef W rirn- How came :t to pass, then, that notwithstanding all this she clung anu still clings to Anglicanism? The feason ' ^tlU^^'^^r'r .'-' "^^^^ «^^ i« "«^ attaAedTs quite different from the Anglicanism to which she had been attached before ^he trials and doubts of 1850. She has found the ;v^ vtnTr ^°^"^^"^^" ^^^ ^^"^^' and\h\Tartntit i^ have burii\VrmtatroV anTtraf'^'*^ WogressWe phases of faith which ean Catholic Church I th,- "knot t fr°«T ^f''J- '^"" «"^'^'* *» the Roman it becomes less and Ic s fkelv altLn^w ""'^"'IT^ ""^ °^" '"«"*^' ^^^^^Y' plainly, what Dr Pusey has LrS.T^ for years I have continued to see more in the Councl o TrenTihich could ZTl^l "^f •'"?«' l^h/t there is nothing were explained au^AonVr/S^ 11 r •^^e^P^^'n^l satisfactorily to us if it are. in tL mail T^t'^^^aS^nts that ol^'ow^n *' But"Stef '^*°i' '""t' deepening conviction that the claims of tLp^;oi« this comes also the secessions to Romp l^n^?"L!,li°/i^\'^y''"*'?«".'-'i'ty- • r • '-To my own mind :. 1 blow than the publicktion of SrSTSr Tl^? b' """" ^'"^'^^f thmk the thoughtful reading nf+hlTh^^h^ Apologia. Had I been wavenng, I the English Clmrch It sKed mo 5nw ^°"V.^*''t ^^"^^^^ ">« *° remain in nature of the Cathoh-c ChurorwI^T. t """P'^*"^^ the very startlingly thepro^eLo^^^^^^ ^"'^ '' showed almost is his «'ctLianSn of an ASSiVbl^^^^^ «""=« h'? departure. It contemporaries, believed in • aS ?; w ^^u\} ?°''.^' ^'^'^ '"^^^t of my acknowLgen; doctrines as biTdln.bnfT "^^it ^?'?"'«ts soon lose. We it can be distinctJ^P 3 that anything \n°ZV^l ^uT^''^ ^^'''-'^ = ^"<^ '^ to them, we sav onM wJfL!,^ anytlung m the English formularies s contrary mulaS are wm? '""'°''' ""^ ''°"^' °^ ^""^ P°«ition, that the English fo,^ experieS°o1- ^'/'/T'' ^Y' remarkable narrative without dS Tr^ '^^ ^""^'"^ °^ sympathy with the writer. The detai 8 she communicates are told with a quiet simplicity which IS attractive; her remarks not unfrequently exhibit proof of considerable ability; and throughout the entire hSory there Se'rcrZ''/T'r ^^p4"7 *«^-^^« -r Lord^in tie -uiesse Sacrament which cannot fa 1 to be very affectine- Wp ror^rfhe'r^".' 't' ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ thr^^n f^y new ligl upon the theology of the questions at issue between Angliotns t.l |i m ' ! 312 THE LASl' TIIIKIY YKARS IN TlIK KNGLISH CHUUCH. and Catholics. The reasoning by which the writer quieted the T?Qr a"^^^ ^^ ^^ *^^* harassed her mind, owing to the eventft ot I80O, is to us simply incomprehensible. We have quoted in lull her own account of it, that our readers may see upon what slender grounds many resist the call given them by Gfod and their conscience to enter the true Church. An overwholmino^ array of substantial arguments had presented themselves to her mmd to urge her to become a Catholic. As far as doctrine was concerned, she was ready to accept the teaching of the Council of 1 rent as m the main, truer than the teaching of the Anglican Church. She admits that " the plain sense of the Bible tells much more for the peculiarities of the Roman Catholic faith than against them " She once wrote " that there are abuses, but nothing that can be called error, in the Church of Rome. As to Rome cutting us ofP, she had provocation enough to do m " bhe saw the holiest and best among Anglican clergymen— her own spiritual directors, whose advice had been blessed to her— so much shaken by the same doubts that oppressed her own soul that they left the Anglican communion at the cost of dreadful sacrihcos. She was filled with an ardent longing for the Blessed feacrainent which longing could not be gratified in the English Uiurch, where she deplored a suspension of the daily sacrifice that was "to her almost the most serious departure from duty o± which a church and priesthood can bo capable." Then came the whole question of the royal supremacy in the Churcli • the question of the validity of Anglican orders, which Rome has always refused to acknowledge, and without whicli the Sacra- ment of Penance and tlie I^kicliaristic Sacrifice must cease to exist. And, as against all these reasons for becoming a Catholic what had she to oppose ? A bolief " that tlic VAvAish Churcli IS st^ill pai-t ot the Catliolic Church, unless she sinned sufficiently at the Reformation to justify Rome in cutting her olf." This behef involved two statements: first, that the severance between the Clmreluvs was not tlie act of England, but of Rome; and, secondly that the English Church did not at the Reformation to heresy. Slie admits slie saw that history was against accejjtance of enougli fall 111 the first statement. As to tlie second, tlie the former liturgy by the English Church was in-oof for her tlmt the English Church meant her formuhiries to be understood 111 no Protestant sensi>. It is to us suri)risinff m he extreme how a keen-witted and conscientious woman could build upon this unsteady reasoning, a resolution upon tho character of which she knew her peace and salvation mainly to depend. *' But although it neither suggests nor disposes of any solid THE .AST THIUTV VEAKS IX THE ENOUSH CHUKC„. 313 which i/pure SoStoA^sm " "^ °" ^'^ '" P"'^ *« *L," of our Blessed LadvTnrnfT- . * ^'"''''"P """1 invocation lord otandfon tScvef of a /ai„r?„V"""' '"l,.*"'^ '"'°<'» ""' place ,ve arc told that Prote^tant/irtaZht f om thf" """ •'^T years to speak to no one bovnnd ,1?. 7 % """■■ earliest Father a/d onr Ble° sTloT witj a fe" "''"I?' '° *''"* ""» the IWv Ghost ThZ ' ■ , "" '■'"'<' addresses to God eradicaC that peakk^ ?:ZZr^- " ^fr^ """' '^'^"'^'^ '» worship / they Ztem id^^^CT '""'fH •"""«? '" "" °<" »f Paul, and a/hl p™" 's it aj act ol'""'''/?' """!,'"'"'■ '» ■*<'■ same lamentable confusTo; „f 1 ■ ""u*'?.' "•"•' '"'1^ "'o not hesitate to l^l^^jifZ;^ TtZ'Ct^ *T, "." very laiportant, in doalins with ProtestanJ7,„ ,' ", !' temper of their mind,, 'f he mort we reCt anon lt'"tb°'' '"' cloiirlv do wp unrlrrsfonrl +h^ , • i "„" '^f'' "Pon it the more Ncwn im ha, tSn h hho ,1" , "* ""' """'' ^^""^ ^r. the Ko„„n, aSie£"".Ilnw •'■■"''■ "'•"" ^"«'i»annhat Blosscl Virgin hersSf lode J, ,'>° "'","■ "°' "^ *!» It serv,.« „1„, , ""*',": '" come between the soul and its Creator " ...... the i...crS„^„'';:i^rL^t:'U!;,;''''"™"'™" -' ^'^'■'^^ rcisn wisdom of tl,e Koly 80^ , fol , ^''^P;!"';■• ""= ■■■""- any -^ha.'o i., it. is ..h.,,ul„^uir,\" i ej 'f i^t^^f''!', ''.V" '•■*<' ....t i...r..» of e;;ti;;r " "^ ;:■':;■:; "";;,!;[!""" '•>• ^'^'-^ proves ifsplf . I +'.>;i,,.. • • i- .^^^-^'''011. "ntesourau hoi-ess. ■■.. '1.0 English c,,;;,:';; ' 't r .'^r.:;';:"".-"? "■■ p"--"'-'i to uni _ lier existoucc us tli .'•ir, , .r^ ^]'^ rvvcdhu^ further from ab only reuhty." The Catholic, therefore, wh ir on, flrawinq- nearer sorption into a 1 i I V ' ■ ;i j ■ ■ 1 ! * ■ ■ I 1 ' ■ ( . I'A Ui 314 THE LAST THIRTY YEARS IN THE ENGLISH CHURCH. favours the movement lends his sanction to the delusion that the English Church is in possession of a priesthood and of the sacraments which depend upon a priesthood. He also favours a movement the avowed working of which is to make men recede further from submission to the Church of Rome as tlie only one true Church, for this is the only possible union. This co-opera- tion on the part of Catholics, no matter how they may intend it to bo understood, is practically understood by unionists to be an admission on the part of Catholics of the existence of Anglicanism as a vhurcli. " Nothing at first could have appeared more hope- less [than the union movement], for Roman Catholics considered it a necessary part of their faith to deny our existence as a church, and therefore would not admit even the possibility of a reunion with a nonentity." Of the baneful effects of the union movement we have a signal example in the life we have just described. And yet the writer declares that she is but one of thousands who underwent, and are still undergoing, the same change, with slightly differing external circumstances, but with the same inner features. Thus thousands are kept away from the Church through the false peace which unionism brings: thousands who are ready to accept the doctrines of the Council of Trent, who frequent confession, who would fain live in liie presence of the Blessed Sacrament, who crowd to the sacrifice of the Mass, who venerate and invoke Mary and the saints, who detest the Protestant name, and glory in calling themselves Catholics. E-tween them and the Catholic Church there is now only a single barrier, but it is one which the union movement will not allow to be removed— that barrier is the doctrine of the supremacy of the see of St. Peter. "The claims of the Papal supremacy have no foundation whatever ; and to confine the true Church of God within the limits of the Roman obedience alone is in reality an absurdity. It can only co-exist, it secras to me, with ignorance of other nations and their churches." Would that the amiable writer were satisfied to abide by the decision which other nations and other churches in every ao-e have really given to the question which asks, by what si.^n'is the only true Catholic Church to be known? There has ''been bu^ one test of Catholicity known at any time in the Church, and that test was communion with the See of St. l*eter at Rome! St. Cyprian, on behalf of the African Church, speaks of com- munion with Pope Cornelius as equivalent to communion with the Catholic Church. St. Ambrose gives the rule in use at Milan, wlicn ho tells us that when men wished to learn if a bishop were a Catholic, they asked if he were in communion with the Roman see. In the name of the nations and churches of the East, the oriental bishops promised to Pope Ilormisdas !i I THE ( IRST BISIIOr OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 315 that for the future "no mention should be made durino the sacred mystencs of the names of those who were separated W the communion of the Catholic Church, that is to say of thoS not agreeing with the Apostolic See;" and even the Arkns learned to speak of the Catholics as Romans : ''the men of our RoSs'' T ^l- '''''''V 5^ ^^"^^^' "^^^•>' commonly st"e itonuins Jfow far was St. Augustine from thinkin^^ it an ub urchty to confine the faith of the true Catholic Church of God Arian ir^'^ f l^' Koman obedience, when he declared the Arian heresy to be manifestly anti-Catholic, for this reason because it would not hold the faith of Rome.* ' THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. To Ireland may be safely applied what St. Gregory Nazianzen said of the Constantinople of the fourth century, that nations irom the east and from the west look to her as to the common centre and emporium of their faith. From her both eastern and western churches have borrowed, and daily borrow, the seeds of Catholic doctrine and, by doing so, themselves become churches. Ireland is the link that connects them with the churches founded by the apostles, and by supplying proof that they are the off- spring ot these churches enables them to make good their claim to apostohcity.t Among the new churches of the western world not one, perhaps, owes so much to Ireland as the church of New- toundland, not one reflects more credit upon its parent church, • " Cognosceris jam qnro sis, omnibus p.ilam facta et qualis sia. Non ere- (imerunt. aqinlmstratlucem hdei ef, semina doctrinaj ceterm eximle eccleeim mutuatre sunt et quotidie mutuantur nt crnln-ia; «-n.,f . " -r hr- Tt-Z Km>rc! «.'"'"' "' '°^"''' apostolicarun7eccieVi«um;''-Tertuliran;*zi« i\ I 1 1< 316 THE FlUST HISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. and not one acknowledges its obligations with more generous affection. " History," writes the present eloquent Bishop of St. John's, " as well as faith, teaches us that man can do nothing of himself, that human power, energy, talents, or wealth are of no avail unless God wills that a thing should come to pass. * Unless the Lord buildeth the house, in vain do they labour,' the Psalmist says, * who build it ?' The history of the Catholic Church in Newfoundland most strikingly shows this. Twice under the most favourable auspices was the Catholic Church planted in this island : twice it failed to take root. Sir George Calvert, in Ferrj-land, intended this country, and particularly in this province of Avalon, to be a city of refuge to his co- religionists. What the Puritans did in New England, he in- tended, though with more enlightened and Christian sentiments, to accomplish in Newfoundland. The Catholic glories of ancient Verulam were to be renewed here, and the ancient British faith of Avalon and Glastonbury was to flourish with renewed vigoi r. All ended in disappointment, and the English branch of the Catholic Church never took root. The most powerful monarch of Europe, Louis XIV., justly called Louis the Grand, estab- lisliod, as he thought, Catholicity firmly in Placentia, founded a convent of Franciscans, the apostles of the New World, and laid, as he imagined, the foimdations of our faith broad and deep. Again a failure— the lily of F-ance never throve on the soil, and, with the departure of the list French governor, the Catholic faith died away. The very churches were transferred to the professors of another creed. Well, the Irish labourers came out to earn a subsistence by braving the dangers of the ocean ; they were not of the class of men who generally suc- ceeded in establishing a church. Tlieir faith, bitterly i)ers(..cutod in their own country, was strictly ^irohibited in Newfuuiidland — the house where Mass was said was burned down hv orders of the Government— they luid not wealth, nor education, nor any of those human gifts which Avould give them influence in the land; still the liidden seed germ hiatcd, liberty of conscience was granted, they were grudgingly allowed to raise an humble wooden chapel here and there— the successor of 8t. Peter looks to this impoverislied portion of his flock, and gives tliem a pastor in the person of Dr. O'Donnell— the weakly plant, traini)led on, cut down whenever it showed itself, now "begins to tlirow out vigorous shoots, and wo see at present, thank God, that it flourishes like a tree planted by the running water. This is tlie work of God (mind, of God alone), and it is wonderful in our eyes. Calvert failed. Louis failed; but tlie poor persecuted Irish fisherman succeeded, and the proud mmuimcnt of his or I ' THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 317 tis children's faith-the cathedral-crowns the culminatinff point of the capital of the island."* "iuimaimg We are not now concerned with the attempts made bv Sir George Calvert and by the French to establish the Cathol c Church in Newfoundland We propose to supply from orSnal documents a more detailed account of thriubours o^Dr assisted. ^^^^ ^"'^ missionaries by whom h; wa^ _ As late as 1784 religious toleration was unknown upon the tr\ i^V^\^^*,^ ^^ ^^*«^^^ ^^^* y««r a proclamatFon was pubhshed whereby liberty of conscience was allowed to aU pZ so^m Newfoundland, and the free exercise of such modefof reklgious worship as are not prohibited by law. It was in fbi« yeat that Dr O'Donnoll, the founder and^ father of Z Church in New oundland landed in the island. '< Born in 1737 ""avs Dr Mullock " inTipperary, he spent a large portion of his Se in the Irish Franciscan Convent of Prague, in Bohemia Sfpr wards as superior of the Franciscans in Waterford, and subse" quently proviin^ial of that Order in Ireland. He ^as the first regular authorised missioner in Newfoundland after it became a purely British settlement." "t^oame a The first letter we find from him is dated from St John's November 10 1787, and is addressed to Dr. Troy, then recently promoted to the archiepiscopal see of Dublin. It is not the firsi which passed between the correspondents, but it is the earliest that has been preserved : «-aiut;si, ''St. Johii\% Novtmher 10, 1787. " I have been honoured with your letter, and am Iiannv in Jfii,,;,,,, „ii i of people in congratulating you on your v roir otion tl k ,„ iT '" ''*"''! ^v:Sxar^^t£r'^^S;r 7^: lisi ':.iTz^^^ man of morals and powerful abilities; he wrote to ml. ami Xr h^^ if' fo^ this nuss.on. He has made three i.ublic acts in the iiuphntiaEZaTf^ t fault of um, a Father Yore, who likewise oliered hi. S nf v .m '( ' l •" diocese, If a man who can be recoinmen,Ied for irr^ S lul co I, J ,'f ? ability, will be to me very acceptable. Wishing vou manv am '\ the season, I've the honour to remain, witii unfeSercstei^^ and w"' °f grat.t. de, your Grace's devoted humble servant, profound ' ' Bkothuu James O'Donel. " York, 18G0 \ooUdures on N,.wf oundland, by the Right Eev. Dr. Mullo^ ck. New I J- W it 1. 1 I 318 THE FIRST lUSHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. From a letter dated November 16, 1788, we extract a passage which illustrates the position of Catholics at that time. A letter of accusation against Father O'Donnell was presented to the Surrogate : " This letter was not only read in the courthouse, where the Surrogate pub- licly denounced Pope, Popery, priests, and priestcraft, and in an ecstasy blessed his happy constitution that was cleanly purged fron\ such knavery, but also carried about this town by him and his officers, to the great satisfaction of those •who envied our large congregation, stately chapel, and the esteem I have been heretofore held in by the governor. This Surrogate, by name Pellu, of French extraction, closed his surrogation to the admiral with the modest request that the priests sliould be turned out of the country ; that circuhir letters should be sent to all the magistrates, if any more priests arrived, to ship them off imme- diately ; and that no priests should be left but where there was a garrison to keep them in awe. When I heard diis I waited on the secretary, who told me that the admiral had made up hid mind, and adopted the measures of his favourite, Captain Pellu. I leave your Grace to judge with what depression of spirits and anguish of mind I returned from the garrison ; howsver, 1 drew up my defence in writing, waited on the governor, who most politely received me, entirely changed his opinion, and assured me that he came to this country with a great regard and esteem for me, as his friend. Admiral Campbell, so often spoke respectfully of my name to him, and that from what he could personally observe in my conduct, that he quitted the island with the same good opinion of me. " I am truly a son of persecution and child of affliction since I came to this country. However, I could not suffer in a better cause, nor be more sincere in any protestation, than in assuring your Grace that I remain with profound regard and respectful esteem your Grace's most obliged, devoted, ancf humble servant, " Brother James O'Donel." Dr. Mullock remarks, " that were it not for the certainty that religion was permanently fixed in the island, the Irish settlers, who formed the bulk of the population of St. John's and the south of the island, would not have remained here. We have rather an interesting proof of this in a letter written by Governor Milbank to Dj-. O'Donnell, before his consecration as bishop, in answer to an application made by hini to His Excel- lency for leave to build a chapel in one of the out-ports. Here is the document, and written, mark you, six years after the pro- clamation of freedom of religious worship : ' The Governor acquaints Mr O'Donnell that, so far from being disposed co allow of an increase of places of religious worship for the Roman Catholics of the island, he very seriously intends, next year, to lay those established already under particular restrictions. Mr. O'Donnell must be aware that it is not the interest of Great Britain to encourage people to winter in Newfoundland, and he cannot bo ignorant that many of the lower order who could now stay, would, if it were not for the convenience with which they obtain absohuion here, go liome for it at least once in two or three years ; and the governor has been misinformed if Mr. O'Donnell, THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 319 instead of advising their return to Ireland, does not rather en- Father O'Donnell writes on the subject as follows :— "My Lord. " Decemhur 6, 1710. F.fl^V V honoured M'lth your esteemed letters both for myself anrl Father Lwer and have likewise received the Cardinal's letter On. , nmnerous and increasing congregations have brought the watdfui oyenff? enemies of our profession upon us, as you'll lind by threndo^ ,1 l.f/ . ^ very proper memorial drau'n up and sll-ned by the L hob s o Fe' v7aL W leave to build a chapel in that district. You see mv lonl Imw ,„"'>^'^'"'> ^""^ Howe*y •;. " '' ,'"' '''' ''''' ^"'^ '^ ^" -«^"-* "° i'"- off iu .^ Hi!L°sto.r However, as human means are not to be nejrlected I wrntpVVF.;i ^ ^? n '' m Cork, and recjuested he'd use his influenfe on Mr owt^^^^^^ member of the Privy Council to prevent tho^e tLw jVioi ^* to apply to some a wide field for him to dispkrhrpo^S a^^^ ^ere is Criminals of all kinds are allowed the unre^^la^l^^^^^^^^ the gloomy recesses of the deepest dungeons, and wl v nf.n ■. i '=i^W^''l", "^ rious set of men, who are inuLd to th^e ha d^^^ o^ it^o-^tTrZ"' ^"^" any emergency to serve Ids majesty ? The tolera^tion hithe -tLra ted^^r-T^r" an encouragement to them to emigrate than a discouragement £h ""^''f monitor supposes, for many of tlTose hardy fXws S.i 1 ,?°^*'"V°'> parents' consent to cross the seas, iitiTyhldmnLo^^ °^^''"" .*^"''" presence of a clergyman in case of dea h^ofstrnes Ceovef ?[°'{^'^ °. *'^^ that make up the sacrament, the Sacrament of SnSan^ the nr^r-'^'^-'f for abmlaiion, are not of such easy digestion to iZv^t fi^i Pre-requisites them to ,jo home M it at ?e Jo;L f ttTor tl^fe ve^^^^ those intended restrictions as a breach of publ c fait^h it seemi ?1. """t "P°° mind to adopt what they often heretofore upbraic£Uswitr»S^^ ^ vanda est cum Catholicis. Admiral Campbell sent rc^rcuK, tVf ^"^^ I'f If" justices of the peace in this island, in tliL Vr^ wLl^ ' Yn, If t *° n " *'',! people inhabiting this island a fre^ exercise of aU uch modfs of rel 1'"°'" "" ship as are not prohibited by law pursuant to thn I^n „'=?,. ? ot religious wor- The enclosed is the diction of C P of whJm I spoke ^ - V^'°" *° '"'r' '^•'^• etter last year, who, by the many changes ^id Zmot ons of f h" '"^ ^f "^ been unexpectedly appointed the admirals crptai.rthTs yeTr a° d v s"^7v'-'' fluence over him. 1 had not the least opportiuiity of reSm vvi h tif * '"" nor, as I only received the enclosed about an houi^ Ke Te lile d ^ll^'T" he can act as he likes in this place, as he is kin.r ,..W .n i , ^'s true islan.l. The reason of this prerogative s t Imt til', n nfL ^""l'''"' ""K *'^^ law to be inhabited except in summer In case of war I bolL""' ""^'^'f ''^ ^^ subsist, as the servants lipon whom a o„AvrdtM e d wi 11 be .7"" °^ 7 ""\ Obliged to become eitlier sailors or soldiers. T is' i f ,, v more , i ^'''f f '^ ""''^ With the wretched inhabitants of tiiis island thai the list" ""^'^'•'^^'^ J'^ar " December 8, 1791. "TheGovernor most faithfully adhered to his nrnnii^p nf .. Catholic clergy of this inland as encouragers ortirep"Se's iS.^*'",^ •''" the wmter in this country, contrary to the interest ai .7 nte. tion of f ' """« ment ; but in tins even he has not succee.le.l according to Ids £ ' k/n ..T"' Providence guided the steps of a Mr. Reeves to this em L, 1 ^ °'^'' ^ appointed Judge A.lvocate for the i-:xnd. This tru ylodan^^ would not suffer me even to expostulate widi theGovernor on is fo?, '"* "'^"^ sentatun, as he assured me thistate of the OathoHc Ch i, crs Ion H • T""'^'^' molested here, and so it happened. Thus the grea Go 'hllr i™"""i i I ,k) I '4 520 THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. time dispersed all those heavy clouds that threatened our ruin from every quarter, and caused the sun of peace to shine upon us once more. Now, as most -of the penal laws in England have been repealed, and the free exercise of our holy religion has been left uncramped by three admirals, it is to be supposed we shall never more be molested by governors ; from this favourable prospect I wish to have another missionary. Be pleased, therefore, to send me one of my own Order for the districts of St. Mary and Trepassy ; it is absolutely necessary he should speak Irish, and it is indifferent to me what province he is of." " St. John's, December 8, 1792. *' My Lord, "I've been honoured with your esteemed letter of 22nd of April, together with the enclcsed faculties from Rome, and can't but gratefully return you thanitt for your condescension tn stooping to execute such commissions as I generally trouble you with. We have had the public papers here up to the 26th of September, which teem with most horrid accounts of the savage bar- barity and inhuman cruelty of the Jacobin Club in Paris. 'I hope, for the honour of the human race in general, tliey are exaggerated ; however, though the Almighty has permitted them to despatch, I hope to a butter life, thousands of the most loyal, virtuous, and resolute of the laity, and ci ->wds of the flower of their clergy, He has likewise made the Duke of Brunswick his executioner to scourge and punish them in their turn. I left that great general in our last accounts near Chalons, and I hope you have found him long since in yours in the heart of Paris, severely chastising the guilty, and clemently pardoning the innocent. I am exceedingly concerned to hear of the rapid progress of infidelity in your parts, especially as it always springs from corruption and immorality. The unhappy French have been sunk into the lowest lees of deism those many years past, and you well know that no man ever became a deist because he had a better wit than others, but because he had a more corrupt will, nor because he reasoned better, but because he lived worse. Our present Governor and the .Judge Advocate have made very solemn proft ions of friendship to me : the former returned me public thanks at his own table for the unremitting pains I have taken those eight years in keeping the people amenable to the law ; and, on being told he overrated my sknder endeavours, he said he was too well in- formed to think so. You may judge he had not this mrormation from his pre- dejessor. Mr. Cross, of Bridge-street in your city, with wlioni I correspond, has sent me all the pamphlets that had been printed in Dublin relative to the claim of the Catholics on Government for their right of francliise. I arn sorry they disagreed so much among themselves, but am happy to tind that you have been so judiciously fortunate as to please both parties. " We are now at perfect ease, and restored to the same degree of respect that we enjoyed for the three first years of our residence here. I\lay the Almighty preserve your Grace in good health and spirits for many years for his own glory, tlie good of his holy religion, and salvation of his people. 'I'liesc are the senti- ments wherewith I've the honour to remain, your Grace's most devoted, humble, and obliged servant, •' Brother James O'Dokel. " December 27, 1793. ' ' My Lord, "I've been honoured with your Grace's kind message and acceptable pamphlet through the hands of Mr. Bolan. I was the more anxious to see this pastoral letter, as I found some ungenerous and very undeserved strictures thrown out against it in the public papers. It was in those times of infidelity, when Catholics scarcely retain anything belonging to their profession but the biire name, a most seasonable production, orthodox, bold, masterly, and replete witii erudition, and, without flattery to the author, 1 think it proves him a man of undaunted zeal and very extensive reading. May God continue liim life and ' ' il jij' 1 793. THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 321 health to rise up on all such occasions in defence of f}n<1'fl n«nc,n t- writers stretched their condescendinV rpT^tc. + \u "f®' Time-serving Catholic faith, and the laityXding fhrmseTves^^^ boundaries of thf mises, would soon step over them if nnfS ^*^"^'ng o*? ^"^'^ "*"ow pro- of weight and authoSyTn the ^n rch fiS"Llhf *'^"-'^^"^"^ ''^ ""'^n pleasing aspect. The Governor cont n„P« »f;« /^ Vu- ""^"°" wear a most warmth. I was the only Esma^w rdiLV w/^^^^ "'^ with gr«at prture aboard his elegaKiirXTe I haTfl.T^'"'"'!*'?.^ '^^^ "^ his de- In the presence of fiv^e cLtS of lU ^"^ .^^^^^^ day to my chapel w th largeTmWems of infidel fv 1 1 "} commg every Sun- their hats. It was much more n^ef^^l il "'^7''*^ *»^1 rebelhon plastered on headed by their ProTstLToffiSs wfti fife^an^^^^^^ of our volunteers, to be inst^ructed in the dutls of r:iigTon^,;/a j';^^^ '='""'"« *° *''^ ^^'^^P^I Dr Muno?k°- D^' AT^''*^^* "' H?^°P ^^ *^"^ ^"^ded to by iJv. mullock . Dr. O Donnell was at first only prefect ano^fnli-i that zs, a priest exercising episcopal jurisdictfon and ZfraUv having, like the prefect apostolic of St. Peter's, the^rT^t of giving confirmation, which, as we see by the practice nff^ Greek Catholic Church, is not essentia/y an e^rcopd Ira' ment, if I may call it so. The importance of the p^opulatTon now required episcopal superintendence. The Sovereign Pontff to whom IS committed the care of all churches saw that T5 fpundland was destined to become the home oT a fixe^popuir ^ mTon Z?r7r'^"^^ f ^ ^''''''^ «-• AccorSgly in 1796, on the oth of January, the great Pontiff, Pius the Sixth the confessor as weU as doctor of the faith, appointed Dr O Donnell Vicar Apostolic of Newfoundland, and Bishop of Thyatira tnparMus and he was consecrated in Quebec on^he fi r .u 1? 'ni,^'" ?^ '."^^ y^^^- Thus was the foundation of the Catholic Church solidly laid, and, we hope, for ever '' to tSs'subieTi "'^^' ^''^'^'^ '' '^' ^'^y ^^*^- r-f-« Beatissime Pater, copum instituere, cum titulo in partibus, et in ViclriumTLlS '" ^^l^' ?.^??..t*, Srr" ^^^.'^t- MissionisVo"tTrR.T. S^T:.!:^ protldLbocoL'q;u:tu?;ST^^^^ .« Placentia. Dr. O'Donnell writes as follows on 25th November, 1794 : — " St. John's, November 25, 1794. •' My Lokd, "I've been honoured with your much esteemed letters of the 18th of March and 19th of July. The former reached me only the 27th of last October, as the vessel in which that and Mr. Croas'a bundle were packed up had been cap- tured by the French, but waa recaptured in a few days by an English frigate. Thia was a very fortunate circumstance, as the sacred oils would be probably abused by those infidels, who would make no scruple of using them with their soups or salad. Though they plundered the vessel of many valuable articles, they left the books, beads, and sacred oils untouched, as such articles are now in no demand among them. " I was never more astonished than at your friendly interference in promot- ing me to a dignity which I neither deserved, desir,d, nor ever expected, and for which I know myself to be entirely unfit. This 7iolo episcopari is not, upon my word, in the least feigned ; for, among many other disqualifications and in- conveniences, it would subject me to voyages I am hardly able to undertake. I went to Ferryland, only fourteen leagues from this place, last June, was blown off to sea for three days and three nights ; during the nights we could not dis- tinguish the froth of the sea, which ran mountains high, from the broken ice THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 323 with which we were enMrely surrounded. i ii a ™oro learned V;e;f anl-^lo^o -:^ired"ToSa\h"an^^^^ Vo?'^' ""' your Grace has carried the mutter so far, I will not mSlIT^ However, as zealou8 and friendly intentions. To th s iTm nrL? ^ °l'Jl'°'? y°"" most fellow-labourers in this v neva^d I will tlZ f^T ^^"^ pressincly hy all my and for ever retain Tgrate^ul'^lory o the honou l^ ^1'""^^^ directions, ing, in the midst of your greairr^of business and -vt7 "^T ""% ^y «*°°P- me so friendly, war,^. ani affectionate a lettTrw^di I deem *°.^"*« and honour than any dignified rank you could place me in ^ "'*"' ^^^""^ the cipSt^^:^^^^ to vast deal of justice, bv cleadrref, nLflf^ himself honour and your cause a weapons mus't be bet e^^ ec g d\tf lo|c re^^^^^^^^ ^l"?*"'-^^^ ^^ prove your pastoral instructlons'LoS^LTwThVouVctS^^ S't^h^ cM^ lie committee, or essen the great esteem and vr.n„^,f • "^'^'f"'"?" >« the Catho- by all the members of the cftSiruhurch who Si?. '!;'''■''''■ ^^^ "'^ ^^^^ are acquainted with your zeal and abilities ^^ ^''''^ instructions or "Sliould Mr. Concannon succeed in your and his friendlv unrlo.foi • there is no safety n crossing the western opoin in i „ '"?"'"y """ertaking, as be a more eligible place for^my ™Ura„ oiebi. h"""'' ^^'^'^'r ^""^^ be a war wit/ Ame^rica, my journey thiherlte * "f fTt^ W^pWat^aSor*-^"-' '''- *-^*' or^VSr'rSuld^^SS; bou^lL'^tttlSSSt^LllTSkrLS^ ^\°V «-' fl-t destructive war has^uined this part of thfNewvC^^^ '^''*''"° '^''*'^^«- ^^^^^ May the great God continue and prolong your life and healtV fnr J,;.. honour and glory and the good of his iJoly Church. Thfs shaU hi IZ ""^ prayer of your Grace's j' v. uiuu. xius snau be the fervent " Most obliged, grateful, and devoted humble servant. " lii:. James O'Do.nel." The following letter from Rev. Mr. Ewer, or Yore hrofTm,. Fntere's!?- "^"''' Vicar-General of BnUin! ./Coar^S. I Si ! i 3 " Most Rev. Doctor, " September 20, 1796. wannest attachment to so /reat a Jatron inust reiulerfh U P''°*^.'=*'°"- *"f the ing you invaluable to me. In the aSe ornnr mn^f ''T' °^ '''^'^''^'^■ has honoured me with his care I feeHt mv Zt. t '"^^^'^^.'^d superior, who satisfaction on his late p omotimf, un 1 acquaint /ouwfthTH""lf'*' '^l ^'""''^^ the sentiments of a people who. not Ion 'S burned thphnnf^^ k^''"^, '" was said or priests were sheltered. " ' **'® ^°"''' "^'^^'^ ^^ss anu cause. ■ "•' "'" peioon 324 THE FIRST mSHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. dwelling, at Fcrryland, all at my own expense, except ten pnun 326 THE FIRST IJISHOP OK NEWFOUNDLAND. in days of darkness, of danger, and of difficulty, and we hope he received the crown of justice." In a letter written June 9th, 1807, by Dr. Lambert to Arch- bishop Troy, we find mention made of Dr. O'Donnell's departure from the island : m "St. JohiH, Keu-fomilland, June 9th, 1807. "Most reverend and most honoured Lord, "I was honoured with your Grace's much esteemed favour of the 28th of March last, about the middle of May, together with the holy oils, for which kindness and condescension deign to accept my best and most grateful acknow- ledgments. As your Grace is of opinion that I need not scruple to consecrate them with one priest, when no other can be had, I shall in future be no more troublesome to any other prelate for them. Indeed that was my own opinion before, but I allowed myself to bo overruled by Dr. O'Donel, who thought otherwise. I have since that received some from Dr. Ryan, and this day more from Dr. Plessis. Bisb.op of Quebec, so that at present there is no scarcity of oils in Newfoundland. Dr. Plessis complains much of the labour of his diocese, which, he says, it would take him six entire years to visit. He has lately con- secrated a coadjutor, who resides now at Montreal, and has petitioned Rome lately for another who (he intends) should reside on the coast of the Gulf of St. Ijawrence. He presses me very seriously to accept of another part of it, that is, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. But, I assure your Grace, I tliink I have too much sailing round the coasts of Newfoundland without going across to the Continent. However, before I give him a definite answer, I would bo glad to have your Grace's opinion of the business. " At the time your Grace's letter arrived hero I was in Conception Bay, visiting Father Ewer's district, which I had the happiness of finding in as good order as could possibly be expected in so large a range of coast. I cruised about twenty-one leagues of the coast of it, and confirmed almost four hundred children. " Doctor O'Donel intends going home with a convoy that is expected to sail about the middle of next month. Bristol or Bath he intends makmg the place of his future residence. "The pamphlet your Grace was so good as to send me vkl Halifax has not as yet arrived, neither has the letter. "I fear I have trespassed on your Grace's patience, and shall therefore con- clude, with profound respect and veneration, your Grace's most devoted and most humble servant, " Br. Patrick Lambert. <' P. S.— The name of the diocese in partihus is called in my Bull Ecchtm Ghytrensis, situated in the island of Cyprus, and sufifragan to the archdiocese of Salaminu." "St. John's, Newfoundland, October I5th, 1810. "Most dear ani> most honoured Lord, "About three weeks ago I had the pleasure of receiving your Grace's kind letter of October Ist, conveying the melancholy news of the death of my ever es^-eemed friend, the Right Rev. Dr. Concannon. May God give him the re- wards of those who love and serve Him. His lifo w.",s innrK-f-nnp. and purity itaelf, and 1 firndy hope he now sees God in his glory. I had some expectations of seeing him on this side of the grave. Dr. Cheverns, Bishop of Boston, had exhorted from me a promise to pay him a visit there next spring, and it was ii'ti'MI THE FIRST BISHOP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 327 chiefly from a hope of seeing Dr. Concannon I did promise. But God has dis- posed otherwise ; his blessed will be done. I am sorry, indeed, that the situa- tion of our common father is such as to deprive the Church of his superintend- ing vigilance and oare. Worthless and insignificant as I am, I had hopes he would have provided a person more fit than myself for the toils of this truly laborious mission. An All-Ruling Providence regulates matters differently from my short-sighted views, and will, I hope, give me submission and resignation. If I can regulate and arrange matters here to my satibfaction, I intend to take a trip across the Atlantic next summer to try if 1 can prevail on some of those young missionaries that your Grace tells me are now on their way home, to come out with me here to this land of milk and honey to enjoy the sweets "My health is but middling, though at present, thank God, something better than usual. Last September I got a fall off a tree that lay across the path, as I was returning from the district of Ferryland, where I had been for tlie purpose of confirmation, by which I broke some of my ribs ; they are now, I hope, healed, at least are not very troublesome. " Sir John T. Duckworth, our governor, showed me much civility and polite- ness during his stay here. I dined three or four timer with him, and he did me the honour of dining once at my table, and seemed happy and pleased. " I congratulate your Grace on the accession of your coadjutor •. though not personally acquainted with him, I have long known his character, which was everything good. I request your Grace will condescend to present him my humble respects and felicitations. , " I am happy to find that Dr. Pleasis has at length received your Grace s letters. He is a most worthy and zealous prelate, and warmly attached to the Irish prelacy. He prays me to forward to your Grace the enclosed packet. In imitation of him, I have issued nearly similar orders with regard to his Holi- ness. The vessel that is to convey this is ready to sail. I must, therefore, conclude. Wishing your Grace many happy returns of the approaching solemni- ties, I remain, with profound respect, your Grace's most devoted and most obedient humble servant, _ , „ " Patrick Lambert." J til From these letters wo can gather that the Church which he had founded with so much toil was now firmly established and self-sustaining. But even with this signal success before their eyes few could have anticipated the bright future in store for the Church of Newfoundland. Its trials under Dr. O'Donnell were great indeed, but yet not so great as the splendid triumph which the piety and ability of the present bishop, Dr. Mullock, have achieved for it in our own day. f It K ' ^ i? ' i f 1 1 ^ i iC 1 J ^ 9 f ' fl 'i i 1 1 ' [ } fjj t ' 'i\ (i ' j f t 1 i' t^ ' s Its r. ^n]' 328 THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PHOTESTANTISM. Among tte many questions of the day which continually engage the attention of thoughtful men, none are more important, more complex, or more delicate than those upon which the Church and the world come in contact. Any conscientious effort towards the solution of such questions deserves the careful consideration of all who have at heart the true interests of mankind. Of course there is and can he no other solution than the Catholic one. One and the same God is the author of society and the founder of the Church, and as He helps the weakness of nature hy the aid of grace, so He has placed in the Catholic Church full relief for the wants of civil society. The experience of the last three hundred years has proved, beyond a doubt, that Pro- testantism has completely failed, not only as a religion, but as a moral power able to influence men. In waging war against Catholic principles and institutions, it has shattered the channels through which the Church was wont to pour its health-bestow- ing waters over the world ; it has retarded the advance of true civilisation, and has developed an unhealthy growth of perverse systems, under the baneful shadow of which modern society languishes and is sick at heart. It is only by a return to Catholic principles that the evils which afflict our modern period can be effectually remedied. Eestricting our view to that pliase of Protestantism wliich pre- vails in these countries, and with the sight of which it is our painful lot to be daily afflicted, it is not difficult to perceive that tlie absolute necessity of such return is becoming every day more and more felt by the more candid Protestants themselves. The existence of this feeling is the most eloquent justification of Catholicity which can be desired. When a man retraces his steps to gather with a respectful hand what before he had con- temptuously trampled in tlie mire ; when he raises to the place of honour what before he had insultingly degraded ; when ho turns for advice and aid to the physician he had just cast out of doors, his second action is more than a simple retractation of his first ; it is more than an apology ; it is an unimpeachable testi- mony to the real excellence of what he had formerly contemned. Hence, the testimony of Protestants to the failure of Protes- tantism, their expressiors of regret for what they lost wlioii they lost Catholicity, their earnest turning once more towards Catho- lic institutions, are among the best tributes to the glory of our THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. 329 Holy Mother tlie Churcli, They are especially valuable in this country, where the insolence of Protestant ascendency makes itself felt in so many different quarters and in so many different ways. Among those Protestants whom (he accident of conquest has placed in the upper ranks of a Catholic people, Protestantism is the light of the world and the salt of the earth, Catholicism a name for all that is degraded and pernicious in society. What will they say, however, when they find the best and most earnest members of the Anglican Church declare that it is only by drawing nearer to the despised principles of Catholicism that the Establishment can hope to escape condemnation? Such a declaration, accompanied by substantial proof of what it advances, is contained in a collection of essays lately published by some clergymen of the Anglican Church. The testimony of these gentlemen is above suspicion, their words have all the authority which a long and intimate acquaintance with the sub- ject of their remarks and their own personal integrity must be acknowledged to confer. One of the essays has for its title The Mimonriri/ Jspect of llitHalinm. In this essay the Rev. Richard F. Littiedale inci- dentally shows how powerless to move the masses the Church of England has become. The true idea of an effective Church, in his opinion, is that it should not merely be ftdly capable of adaptation to the habits of all climates and nations, but that in each nation it should meet the wants of all classes of society and all types of mind. This ideal, he admits, will not alwaj s be fully realised ; but in proportion as approximation is made to it, will the vital power of the Church be. " Tested by anv such standard, three of the great sections within the English Church utterly fail, and are branded as class-religions with no faculty for general absorption." The three sections just referred to are the great Evangelical school, the scliool more appropriately than courteously called High and Dry, and the Broad Church, the peculiar cliaracter- istics of each of which are too well known to need any mention here. The first, according to our essayist, has never approved itself, hardly speaking to the highest or lowest strata of Gociety. The forniov it has alienated by its deficiency cf culture ; the latter by merely subjective character ; so that, even if it did not exhibit patent marks of irrevocable decay, it could at best rank only as a creed for the lower middle class. Therefore, it can have no message for two- thirds of thoao with whom it professes to deal. Tlifi snoond claRs, though adorned by mnny Icfu-Jied, amiable, and devout persons, has never been a real spiritual power in the country. It failed to reach the class on which the Evangelicals I 330 THE WEAKNESS OP ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. seized; any influence it may have had with the poor ia due solely to the weight of pressure exerted by the squirearchy (its main strength) in rural districts ; in towns it had not even this to show. The third section is the least missionary of all. The Broad Churchman has not reached, nor tried to reach, the poor. More familiar with the library than with the parish, doing all with reference to intellect at the price of neglecting the imagination and the affections, " he might, perhaps, succeed in establishing a sect of cultivated Christian philosophers, a porch or an academy of the learned ; but he must break down when trying to deal with those terrible forms of moral and physical evil with which society is beset. The bland tolerance of our new academ.y, the graceful stoicism of our modern peripatetics, however well they may sit on a courteous gentleman in the repose of his study, or in genial intercourse with those of his own rank and cultivation, are but poor help by the dying-bed of a cancer patient, by the side of a betrayed and deserted woman tempted to despair and suicide, by the remorseless agonies of a sinner in his first thoughts of repentance, by the cloudy perplexities of one who begins to think that the universe is without God" (p. 32). "All the sections of the English Church, save one," continues our candid essayist, " have stood their trial, and failed. The High and Dry, from the beginning of George the Third's reign, the Evangelicals from the French Eevolution, the Latitudina- rians in their first period, from William the Third to George the Second inclusively, and in their second stage from the accession of George the Fourth to the present day, have severally tried to include all classes within their ranks, and have in no wise suc- ceeded" (p. 35). The only hope, then, which Anglicans c^n have of being an effective Church is bound up with the Tractarian party. And wherefore ? Because of all others in the Church of England the Tractarians alone have recognised the principle that the worship of God should be accompanied by religious ceremonies. That is to say, every shade of opinion and every combination of party in the Reformed Church of England has been fairly tested as a woi king religion, and has failed, precisely because it was Protestant, and in the very points in which Protestantism is opposed to Catholicism ; whereas its only success has been where, departing from Protestant, it has returned to the Catholic prin- ciples it had rejected, and in proportion to its approximation to the Catholic Church has been its success. "Wherever Ritualism has been "'iven a fair trial the result is that the proportion of men present in church is exceptionally large, and that all ranks are represented in the congregations. HItii THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. 331 The reasoning by wblcli the essayist accounts for and Justifies this success is worthy of being mentioned here, and will serve as a defence of the Catholic principles regarding the employment of sacred ceremonies in public worship : — " One of the great practical strides made in the education of the humbler classes of late years has been the introduction of what are called object lessons, wherein, instead of reading and committing to memory by rote on account, for example, of the qualities of caoutchouc, a piece of India-rubber is shown to the class, and subjected to various tests, by which its elastic, inflammable, deter, gent, and other powers are easily explained and made part of the domain of the understanding, instead of being a mere dead weight in the memory : and such lessons are amongst the most popular in every national school. "Ritualism is the object lesson of religion; and how popular it is can be said only hy those who have seen its worlcing amongst a poor population in towns. It affords a common ground where high and low can meet, for there are certain cravings for the beautiful common to both which are certainly not grati- fied by the ordinary Sunday routine. . . . "It may be argued that good and vigorous preaching will fill the cravings of the imagination, and make the employment of material stimuli superfluous, if not mischievous. But good preaching is amongst the rarest of good things, rarer even than good acting, because it requires a wider range of physical and mental gifts. . . . " And here agp 'n a lesson may be !..~amt from one of the least pleasant forms of ordinary life. There is no institution so widely and universally popular amongst the London poor as the gin palace. Given the craving for drink, and it would seem that an additional inducement would be needful to lure cus- tom'irs across the threshold, and to retain them as long as possible on the pre- misv.s. Yet it is n • so. . . . Internal decoration, abundant polished metal and vivid colour, with , • ty of bright light, is found to pay, and to induce people to stay on drinkin^ ist because everything is so pretty and cheerful to the eye, and so unlike the squalid discomfort of their own sordid homes. Many landlords have found even all this insufficient without the additional attrac- tion of music. ... If, then, painting, light, and music are found necessary adjuncts in a trade which has already enlisted on its side one of the strongest of human passions, it is the merest besotted folly to reject their assistance when endeavouring to persuade men to accept and voluntarily seek an article for which they have never learnt to care, even if they are not actively hostile to it — to wit, Religion " (p. 39). Of the Protestant Church in Ireland he says it need noi be insisted on how completely it has broken down in dealing with the Roman Catholic population : " It is enough to say that, even if the reports of the proselytising societies were as true as they are unscrupulously mendacious, the results would be a very poor return for three centuries of monopoly." Of the Protestant missions he tells : " It is needless to dwell on the pitiful history of respectable Anglican mis- sions to the heathen, or on the more boastful but not more useful efforts of the sects. The names of India and New Zealand are enough to exhaust the one subject ; and that of Jamaica will suffice for the other. In every case a purely subjective religion, fatally weighted with the most anti-missionary and anti- Christian of dogmas— the Lutheran doctrine of Justification— has been ofTered . , l|! Iff 332 THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. to men who needed to be taught by externals to rise gradually into tb • concep- tion of spiritual life ; and with rejection of these externals came 'oo often practical disbelief in the verities they are meant to typify " (p. 49). So much concerning tlie Anglican Churcli as a body. Let us now see what the essayists have to say touching the condition of each of the two great classes that compose that body, namely, the clergy and the laity. Speaking of the clergy, the bishops naturally come first. What is the account given of the Protestant bishops of these countries by the very men who look up to them as their spiritual heads ? In the essay On tJw Revival of Religious Confraternities, the Rev. S. Baring Gould, M.A., after alluding to the earnest desire felt by the more Catholic portion of the clergy to work more and better than at present for the salvation of the souls which are daily perishing around them, asks the question : " What will the bishops do when the long pent-up desire bursts into actual work ?" The answer follows close upon the question : "The episcopal boot is so accustomed to descend on every spark of vitality in the stubble of the Establishment, that perhaps it will follow precedent, . . . and stamp out all this zeal for God and the Church" (p. 106). And again : " There is danger looming in the Church horizon likely to precipitate the formation of Religious Confiaternities. Wc mean the threatened attempt to niterfere witii the liberties of the English Church on the part of the Govern- ment, to compromise its orthodoxy by privy council decisions, and to curtail its ritual, thereby striking a blow at its doctrine. What line will be pursued by the prelates of the English Church is uncertain; but their policy iias of late been one of oppression to the Catholic party, and we can hardly calculate on their support to any great extent. Courage in the cause of God and the Church IS at present not the distinguishing characteristic of her dignitaries ; and it may be questioned whether, when a bill is introduced for the altering of the vest- ments of the priesthood, the episcopal mitre should not be abolislied also, as antiquated, to make way for the more appropriate symbol of the white featlier. If there is to be a struggle between tlie Church and tlie State, we can hardly expect to find champions on the side of God's household in those who owe their position and the enjoyment of their emoluments to the State " (p. 107). And again : " The Anglican prelates have so diligently accumulated straws to break the camel's back, that the poor beast will kick over the load, and decline to sub- mit his back to otiier bi-iden than that laid on him by Providence, his own hump. The Catholic clergy, • whilst readily acknowledging the essential necessity of an Episcopacy for the perpetuation of the ministry and the con- firmation of the baptised, if much turther exasperated, will perhaps deny the * Tlie Tractarians. THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. 333 divine right of the bishops to hinder work for Christ and the salvation of souls " (p. 108). In days long since passed the English Church gave to the world and to heaven men like St. Thomas of Canterbury, 'William of Wykeham, and Fisher of Eochester, who died or toiled for the liberty and instruction of the ministers of Christ's Church. To-day it can only show "white-feathered" cowards, recreant defenders of religion, " hinderers of work for Christ and for the salvation of souls," slaves who permit the civil power to compro- mise the orthodoxy of the Church. What potent poison has worked this awful change ? The Protestant substitution of the supremacy of the sovereign in lieu of that of the Holy See. It is perfectly true that we can hardly expect to find champions on the side of God's household in those who owe their position and emoluments to the State ; and it is equally true that we owe this state of affairs to the principles of the Reformation. After the bishops follow the inferior clergy. We find scat- tered over these essays much important information concerning the education, tl e method of life, and pastoral efficiency of the ministers of tho inylican Church. And, first of all, the supply of clergy is falling off as the demand increases. Government offices having been thrown open, the number of candidates for holy orders from the universities has sensibly decreased. The vacuum has been partially filled with men from the Theological Oolleges. But, generally speak- ing, the education which is there imparted is by no means satis- factory : "We are acquainted with several excellent young men of the middle class who have been under prolonged training for the ministry, by a course of French, English, hiatuiy, geography, and the use of the globes, chemistry, the classic languages, drilling and fencing, the evidences of Christianity, linear and per- spective drawing, the Thirty-nine Articles, and Butler's Analogy ; yet there is hardly an individual among them who could be trusted to preach on any one of the articles of the Apostles' Creed without the certainty of his stumbling into heresy through sheer ignorance. If men of all classes are to be taught theo- logy, it must be ground into them, as you grind ABC into a child. But the practice of our universities and theological colleges seems to have been to edu- cate the candidates for the ministry in every ' ology' under the sun, except the one ' ology ' which is required more especially of them, and that theology. Ninety-nine chances to a hundred if the men search it out for themselves : they are more likely to indulge their hearers with the thin gruel of their own excogi- tations than retail to them the solid and sound meal of apostolic and patristic doctriue " (p. 97). A clergy thus educated must needs be unfit for the duties of the ecclesiastical state. The poor man's heart closes up against such a church parson " in his gloomy suit of black and spotless white cravat, dashing past in a pony chaise with his daughters to "nt^Ti life, ' t ' ) I < hi '^' ,1 In I* 1 •j' 334 THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. the squire's croquet party." Thousands and tens of thousands remain whom the instruction delivered in the parish church never reaches. Great masses of scarcely educated, half- civilised men and women teem in all the large towns, without a God in this world. For this afflicting state of affairs also our essayist has a remedy to propose. His remedy he believes to be the only one which can reach the depths of the spiritual misery of the population, which is in the hands of Anglicanism, and it is the revival of religious confraternities. Blessed be God ! at the very moment when the infidel party all over Catholic Europe has raised a heavy hand to chase from their convents and monas- teries the humble friars and religious, a cry is raised from the heart of Protestant England, calling out for the despised insti- tutions as the only hope of her neglected populations. At a season when the so-called liberal press rings with ribald abuse of these persecuted men, when they are reviled as the type of idleness and ignorance, when they are cursed as a vile remnant of the superstition of past ages, and regarded as a blot to be wiped out from modern civilisation, a Protestant clergyman is found in busy, wealthy, constitutional, modern England, to praise them^ as the benefactors of their kind. We make no apology for inserting the following passage, describing the action of the Church in the Middle Ages : — " Then, as now, there was a dearth of educated clergy ; and how did the Church meet the difficulty ? She founded religious orders. She gathered to- gether under one roof men of all ranks and grades, and trained them in self- denial, in self-control, in the art- of winning souls, in the art of preaching. Having educated them, she sent them forth through the length and breadth of the land to occupy the pulpits of the parish churches, or to stand up on the wayside hedge, or on the steps of the market-cross, and appeal to those who would not come to the house of God to hear. Was there a savour ot heresy in the wind? North and south, east and west, flew these bare-footed, serge- frocked champions of orthodoxy, and, in rude language, with argument telling home and forcible, they taught the people the right, and prepared them to com- bat the wrong. "All these men, remember, were first trained themselves, first grounded themselves in doctrine, first primed themselves with arguments, and educated in the art of extempore speaking, and then were sent abroad to retail to tens of thousands what they had learned themselves in the seclusion of the cloister. Specimens of the sermons of these men abound. The press of the fifteenth, six- teenth, and seventeenth centuries teemed with their productions, and it is im- possible to deny the extraordinary power they possessed. Every quality requisite to the formation of a popular preacher to the lower classes was found in them. They were full of unction ; they excelled in descriptive power ; their arguments were telling, if not always logically conclusive ; their illustrations were pointed, and their style full of fire, . . . and the people heard them gladly. " Everywhere did the preaching friar attract a crowd. He was a man who knew what hunger was, and what it was to be pinched with cold. The poor man was aware of tiiis, and recognised a brother. If you sound a note on a one- stringed instrument, the corresponding string vibrates on another. So is it with the human heart, and especially with the notes of sufiferiug. God Incarnate, by THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. 335 becoming a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief, vibrated a chord in the great human heart which will quiver through eternity. As with the Master, so with the follower. The key to the success of Christianity is in the pangs of its Founder ; the preacher ot the Gospel now, if he is to reach the broiten-hearted and the poor and the oppressed, must have been consecrated by the hand of suffering laid on himself. The poor man's heart responds to the heart of him who has suffered poverty ; and therefore of old he loved the friar " (p. 104). One of the broad features tnat distinguish the Protestant clergy from the Catholic, and one which, in Ireland at least, is frequently insisted on, is that the former eschews celibacy and inclines to the estate of matrimony. This fact of their marriage necessarily colours the entire life of that clergy. In an essay on Clerical Celibacy, the Rev. James Edward Vaux gives us some information as to how a married clergy attends to the things that are of its calling. We say nothing of that portion of their life which precedes their marriage, nor of " the flirting and fortune-hunting clergymen," nor of the circumstance that " a clerical lover is, generally speaking, more graciously received both by parents and daughters than a lay one." We leave it to our reader's judgment to decide how far all this fits young men for the serious duties of their state. We prefer to come at once to the influence their married life exerts upon their minis- trations. We who remember the charge delivered to his clergy in the cholera time by the late Protestant Archbishop of Dublin have little reason to be surprised at the " by no means unknown instances in which married priests have avoided infected houses and fever-stricken patients through fear of conveying disease to the little ones at the parsonage " (p. 171). Nor are we surprised to hear that " the temptation to give up that time to wife and children which would otherwise be devoted to such works as night schools, confirmation, communion, and Bible classes, to say nothing of theological reading, is not a small one. As a practical illustration of this, I may mention that, whilst writing this por- tion of my essay, I had a visit from a most hard-working country incumbent, who gave it as one of his chief reasons for discon- tinuing the Sunday evening service in his parish church, that it occupied the time and exhausted the energies which he thought right to devote to the religious instruction of his family at home" (p. 171). Now, if a most hard-working man has been led to neglect his parish for his family, what must the case be when the incumbent is negligent or worldly ? But even this would not be quite so intolerable if, at least, the family which was the object of such preference were largely benefited by the instruc- tions of which they rob the poor. But is it the normal condition of clergymen's families to be well regulated ? " Th not the re- verse," asks Rev. Mr. Vaux, " notoriously the case ? Without venturing to criticise the daughters at the manse, I may fairly ! "I ! i 1 ,M: I 336 THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. ill say a word or two about the sons. Let anyone pick out the half-dozen most ill-conducted boys in the public school that he was at, or a similar number of the fastest men, in rather a low direction, that he was acquainted with at the university, and the chances arc that a large proportion belonged to those families which are supposed to exercise so much beneficial influence in their respective parishes by their personal example" (p. 172). If a married clergy, by the fact of their marriage, fail in the spiritual charge of their parishes, and even of their own families, what must be the amount of the failure when they attempt the labours of the foreign missions ? When a youthful Catholic resolves to devote himself to the glorious work of the propaga- tion of the faith he deems it an indispensable preparation to spend many years in an institution like our own noble one of All Hallows, where, under ihe guidance of zealous and skilful ecclesiastics, he is trained in self-denial, in sacred learning, and, above all, in the science of the saints. The sum of his training, however, is this : that he should leave father, and mother, and kindred, and home, and country, and that with a heart freed from every bond that can tie him to himself or to the world, he should go forth to preach the Gospel to every creature. Com- pare with this the statement made concerning the Protestant missionary by Mr. Vaux, that, " with many, a wife is regarded as well nigh indispensable by one who is about to engage in this peculiar branch of the church's work." The arguments adduced in support of this opinion will be found, when examined, to amour, t to little more than this, that a missionary is more com- fortable with a wife than without one ! In one of the Anglican missions, where the bishop was almost alone among the heathen and half-heathen tribes whom he was trying to convert, he was deprived of the aid of three missionaries simultaneously from this cause alone : — " Two clergymen in England, who had promised their personal aid, withdrew from their engagements because the ladies to whom tliey had become affianced in the interviil, very naturally objected to such uninviting expatriation ; while the third, who had gone out as a married man, was compelled to return to the old country because, after the experience of a year or two, the new one did not prove agreeable to his wife " (p. 174). For all the shortcomings of the Protestant clergy the essayist proposes as a remedy that very clerical celibacy which the Re- formers were the first to shake off, and which the Catholic Church has ever held, and still holds, in honour. "VVe have but scanty space left to touch on the condition of the people, and we must confine our remarks to a single point. This point, however, is so serious, and gives rise to considera- nil THE WEAKNESS OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. 337 tions 80 appaUmg, that wo may well dispense with any other. Ihe Rev. Henry Humble has contributed to the volume before us an essay on Infanticide : Its Came and Cure. Omitting to dwell on the horrible scandal and sin of such places of wholesale murder as have been recently exposed at Torquay, and which, we are told, exist in many other towns, this writer presents 'the iollowmg fearful sketch of the prevalence of child murder in England: — "Thus bundles are left lying about the streets which people will rot touch, lest the too familiar object, a dead body, should be revealed, perchance with a pitch plaster over its mouth, or a woman's garter round its throat. Thus too the metropolitan canal boats are impeded, as they are tracked along, by the number of drowned infants with which they come in contact, and the land is becoming defiled by the blood of her innocents. We are told by Dr. Lankester that there are 12,000 women m London to whom the crime of child-murder may be attributed. In other words, that one in every thirty women (I presume be- tween fifteen and forty.five) is a murderess " (p. 57). \ i- «uhio oe In the way of prevention nnd cure, special appliances, through the efforts of religious and of associated societies, are recom- mended. It is remarkable that the institutions which he thus recommends are almost in every instance such as owe their exist- ence to the Catholic Church. Thus, orphanages and juvenile reformatories for the young, religious guilds or confraternities and houses presided over by religious for those in danger, retreats for the betrayed, and penitentiaries for the openly vicious. But above all other means our essayist has confidence in the sacra- ment of Penance : — " I have done little more than take for granted throughout habitual resort to confession The high morality of Ireland is owing, in great part, to this habit ; and the low tone of morals in Scotland is, I fear, to be greatly attri- buted to the impossibility of having recourse to a sacramental ordinance so specially adapted by our most loving Lord to strengthen those who are secretly tempted to sin. It will rest with the clergy everywhere to recommend this practice (p. bo). "We have thus followed the earnest authors of these essays over each part of the ground covered by the Protestant Church in this country considered as a moral power in the world. From the statement of these men, by no means wedded to the cause of the Roman Catholic Church, we have seen that, considered as a corporate body, in her clergy and in her people, the Protestant Church offers a striking example of impotence and decay. That decay, we have seen, has set in precisely in the parts which are markedly Protestant, as having been substituted for Catholic ones of an nnnnaitp oVinrncfor A-nj' flrinlUr -^^ V,« — v. j j> the midst of the Anglican clergy themselves the en- go forth to stand once more upon the ancient ways, and to return to the 23 m I 338 DANGEROUS READING. principles which, in their madness, they had abandoned. And thus the v/isdom of God's Church is justified in her children ; not only in those of them who have remained faithful in their obedience to her, but even in the prodigals who, leaving her, went afar off, and there devoured their substance. I -Si 1 I HI I DAi^GEROUS READING. "We cannot better describe the use and the abuse of the art of printing than by employing the language of two illustrious Roman Pontiffs, who ruled the Church, the one at the com- mencement of Protestantism, the other in our own day, when the deadly effects of that heresy have reached their develop- ment. Leo the Tenth, in the tenth session of the Council of Lateran, declares that the " art of printing has been happily and usefully invented fo'' the glory of God, for the increase of the faith, and for the diffusion of the sciences." This was in the first days of the Reformation. During the three hundred years that followed. Protestantism arrogated to itself unchecked power over the press, which it declared to be a creation peculiarly its own, and, at the end of that period, Gregory the Sixteenth thus describes the result : " We are filled with horror in seeing what monstrous doctrines, or rather what prodigies of error, we are inundated with through that deluge of books, of pamphlets, and of works of all kinds, the lament- able inroad of which has spread a curse upon the face of the earth."* This testimony of the Pontiff is borne out by every man who has the interests of religion and the welfare of modern society at heart. "We shall mention two facts which must impress even the most careless. In France a commission appointed by the Government some years ago to investigate the results of the sys- tem of book-hawking [coljjortage], in its official report addressed to the Minister of the Interior, declared that of the nine millions ''I * Encycl. Mirari vos. DANGEROUS READING. 339 of works which that system scattered broadcast amonff the popu- lace, " cight-nmths, that is to say, eight millions, were books more or less immoral." * In England we know, on undisputed authority, that infidel and immoral literature is a most widespread evil. 0^ C .: Jg Constitution of Man, a work of materialistic tendency, unci l >d on a denial of Providence, more than eighty thousand copies issued from the English press. The total annual issue of im- moral publications amounts to twenty-nine millions. In 1851 the purely infidel press in London issued more than twelve ij\ hons of publications ; the issues of avowed atheism being more ihan six hundred and fifty inousand. AU this is exclusive of newspapers.f Now, as the literatures of France and England divide be- tween them the attention of the entire world, this luxuriance of mhdel and immoral publications in the two countries is an argu- ment from which we may safely conclude that the evils deplored by the Pontiff are almost co-extensive with what is called modern civilisation. This multiplication of bad books is one of the most deadly plagues of modern society. Men's minds have become so fasci- nated by the glories of the boasted liberty of the press, so im- patient of all control, especially in the matter of reading so negligent of the precautions suggested by the commonest pru- dence, that the pernicious influences exercised by this noxious literature are telling on every side. The spirit of faith is weakened ; Christian purity of conscience is sullied ; serious and solid studios arc m no esteem ; f//c whole head m ,^?V/-, the whole, heart is md. An evil so crying as this, and fraught with such consequences to the religious and social < nr^dition of our country, imperatively demands a remedy. It is .,.; n our powe- to propose a remedy which should meet all the cAigencies of /u« case; bui, at least we can romiud Catholic readers of what their duty requires ^rom them in this matter. We say to them, therefo--, that they are not free to roam at will through the world of books, rcadino- whatever they please, no matter how pernicious to their faith or morals ; but, on the contrary, they are bound to subject their reading to a wholesome discipline, steadfastly refusing to them- selves and to those under their charge, not only such books as are positively hurtful, but even such as are dangerous. Authority and reason unite in recommending this rule. Even Paganism in its least corrupt form felt and acknowledo-'ed this truth, that the true object of reading was to instruct not to *MonHeur, 8th Apr^ , 1853. t/. E. Record, vol. ii., p. 270. 1 * < 340 DANGEROUS READING. ,! II llf i I i II i !f' H: M pervert. Their libraries bore the noble inscription of treasure- houses^ of remedies for the soul. The Jews were naturally still more jealous of all that could injure the faith or morals of God's chosen people. Eusebius tells us that the holy king Ezechias committed to the flames certain works ascribed to Solomon, fear- ing lest the people should, by their perusal, be seduced to idolatry. ^ Even the Holy Scriptures themselves were not placed indiscriminately in the hands of all ; young persons, until they reached the age of thirty, according to St. Jerome, or twenty- five, according to St. Gregory Nuzianzcn, were not allowed to read Genesis, certain chapters of Ezechiel, and the Canticle of Canticles. The early Christians were s^^^'U more remarkable for the caution with which they avoided ^gerous books. Of this we have a notable example recordet a the Acts of the Apostles* how many of those who had followed curious things, brought all their books together, and burnt them before J\; and so many or so valuable were the bad books thus consumed that, the price of them being computed, the money was found to be fifty thou- sand pieces of silver. Nor did this spirit decay as time pro- gressed. When heretics were converted to the faith they were not received into the Church except upon the condition of giving publicly to the flames the suspected books of which they were in possession. The General Council (second) of Constantinople, and the General Council (second) of Nice, issued one common anathema against heretics and their books. In the early part of the fifth century Pope Anastasius con- demned Origen, his doctrines, and his books, the reading of which he forbade to the faithful. In 446, Pope Leo the Great made search in every direction for the books of the Manichncans, and succeeded in destroying a large quantity of them ; and, in the following year, the same Pontiff wrote to the bishops of Spain, exhorting them to destroy the books of the Priscillianists. It is not necessary to dwell here upon the enactments made to the same effect on this subject by later Pontiffs ; and no one can be ignorant how anxiously they have endeavoured to restrain the unbridled licence of the corrupt press. SuflSce it to say that, as concerning bad books, the Catholic Church has a clearly de- fined policy of her own, and that it is her manifest wish that her children should reject with firmness not merely such books as are condemned by name, but also those the tone of which is likely to injure faith or morals. Our present purpose dispenses us from the obligation of entering upon a defence of the legislation, such as we have *Act3,xix. 19. DANGEROUS READING. 341 described it, adopted by the Church in the matter of bad books. Addressing ourselves to Catholics, we have no need to justify the principles on which that legislation is based, for no well- instructed Catholic will think of calling them in question. But herein lies the difficulty, that whereas Catholics readily admit the necessity of stringent rules in matter of such reading as really endangers faith or morals, they are not so easily convinced that in their own proper case such danger exists. Hence, pro- fessional men have little or no difficulty in taking as their instructors historians, whose books are coloured with anti- Catho- lic prejudices, and who give the most distorted views of the action of the Church upon the world. Eence, writers on juris- prudence, whose first principles are wholly incompatible with the very charter of the Church's existence, are allowed to form the minds of young Catholic students. In making choice of authors on mental and social philosophy especially, it appears to be quite forgotten that the Church both possesses and exer- cises the right of judging philosophical systems. The writer of these Hues has had an opportunity of witnessing the result of this forgetfulness. He has heard it seriously maintained by young Catholics, otherwise exemplary, that the Church not only ov.ght never to pass judgment upon philosophy, but ought to tolerate the errors of philosophy, leaving it to correct itself; and that philosophy is to be treated of without takmg any account of supernatural revelation : and yet these very propositions have been condemned [nn. xi., xiv.] in the Syllabus. Besides, it very generally happens that Catholics are constant readers of some one or other of the periodicals which judge of passing events, or of new books, from a point of view altogether anti- Catholic ; and when they find these oracles, day after day, occupied in proclaiming the merits of some new work of science or of fiction, which has reached the dignity of being called the book of the season, they become so eagerly curious to read it as seldom to stop to consider whether they are justified in doing so or not. And thus it happens that, while in theory they rightly admit tho force of the obligation which imposes caution in the choice of books, they practically disregard it, not, indeed, through con- tempt,^ but because they cannot bring themselves to believe that in their case there is any considerable danger incurred by indis- criminate reading. This secure confidence in their own invulnerability is the source of most serious evils, and it is a confidence as rash aa it is dangerous. No doubt there are a few minds which have but little to fear from the artifices with which error seeks to recommend itself under the double attraction of specious argument and elegant :li yiiii m I ii 342 DANGEROUS READING. style. Such minds are remarkable alike for singular vigour and for ripr iudgment ; thorough!)'- disciplined to accurate reasoning; rich in large stores of information ; grounded in knowledge as well of the object as of the motives of faith ; and for whom re- ligion is a living power to control the will, as Avell as a system of doctrine to enlighten the intellect. Such minds as these will be able to unravel the most intricate sophism, to detect the con- fusion of ideas, and to correct false statements of fact ; while for all the tricks of style under which the poison lies hid they will feel but contempt or disgust. But men blessed with such minds are few indeed, and even these few may not venture with safety on the dangerous voyage through strange seas of thought. The ablest among them have acknowledged that, after reading some pages of works in which error was conveyed with treacher- ous skill \mder the most graceful forms, they were conscious of feeling ill at ease, and of a bad impression of an indefinitely unsettling character, which, if not shaken off at once by a vigorous effort, threatened to sap the foundation of their strongest convictions. If theo^ impressions were frequently repeated, as would naturally happen in cases where such books are habitually or often read, the danger of the most alarming consequences is but too apparent. But the great bulk of readers at present cannot lay claim to the possession of intellectual gifts of a high order. In the first place, their religious knowledge is very limited. It is astonish- ing to find how ignorant of the teaching of the Catholic Church, on many most important points, is the mass of what is called tlie reading public. No doubt they are Catholics, and love and cherish their faith ; but of the reasonable grounds on which that faith rests — of the solid motives that confirm it — of the harmony and symmetry of its parts, they have but scantiest knowledge. In the next place, they have had little or no training of mind, their understanding is not robust enough to deal with solid matter, nor their judgment disc'plined to separate the true from the false. Again, they are incapable of serious mental exertion, and averse from all that imposes the labour of thought. They are mere passive recipients of what they read, surrendering their minds to the action of the thoughts of others, without ever challenging the claims which those others have upon them for the allegiance they are so slavishly ready to yield. Add to this that the human mind, under any circumstances, is more tenacious of an objection than of the reply ; more sensitive to a difficulty than to the solution ; and that, owing to the pe(!uliar circum- stances of tliis country, the current literature is a very hot-bed ^tions obj( igti quarter, every mouth, every fortnight, every week brings out a DANGEROUS BEADING. 343 crop of reviews and magazines whicli supply millions with matter for reading, and in these periodicals you will find the Church perpetually calumni: ted, her doctrines and her history falsified, her moderation qualified as irreconcileable antagonism to all that modern progress has won for humanity, her claim to control thought and science misrepresented and derided. You will find religious indifferentism praised to the skies, and the dogmatic principle condemned as tyranny. And whoever makes a careful examination will find underlying all this, and working up through it, an erroneous philosophy which, by its false doc- trine of causes, saps the demonstration of that central truth, the existence of God. Under conditions such as we have described, the results of indiscriminate reading cannot be other than pernicious. The weak must yield to the strong. Generally speaking, the effect of^ the bad impressions, reiterated again and again, upon the mind of a Catholic who habitually reads, without restraint or antidote, what is called the literature of the day, will be to bring about a divorce between his faith end his reason. He will cling to his faith, but his adherence to it will be the work more of sentiment or of habit than of conviction. And when the for- tunes of his life place him in occasions of temptation, when the wild strength of the passions finds no check upon them save that of a creed which is but half believed in, it requires little know- lodge of man's heart to foretel the melancholy result. But whatever we may suppose to be the probable issue of the battle, no one has the right to tempt the dangers that attend the combat. Faith, no doubt, is a gift of God ; but God exacts from us for its preservation a faithful correspondence on our part. Who can tell how far he may go without endangering that precious gift ? "Woe to us if by rash curiosity to know what may be urged against the doctrines of the Church, or by imprudent dallying with difficulties which we are not prepared to meet, wo imperil our secure possession of that priceless bless- ing which ouglit to bo dearer to us than life. Now, from what we have said, it follows that indiscriminate reading of the books which go to make up the literature of the day, will, if practised as a habit, infallibly lead to such danger in a greater or less degree. We are quite pi-epared, however, to find that not all will agree with us on tliis point. It will be said that in this age of ours a person of intolh'gonce ought to be familiar with the argu- ments adduced on both sides of every important question. If not, he will speedily be left boliind by the progress of the times, and be unable to keep pace with his fellowmen, who read every- thing. I i lii I Ijl 344 DANGEROUS READING. But, we ask, do you really and conscientiously carry out your golden lule of studying tlie arguments on both sides of the que.stiun Y In virtue of your rule, you have read, let us suppose, Kenan s Life of Christ, or Barlow's Eternal Punishment, in order to know_ what is urged against Catholic doctrine on subjects ot such importance. But did you read what the learned have written on the other side ? Did you read, for example, the late revered Primate Dixon's Introduction to the Iloh, Scriptures, where the authenticity and veracity of the Bible is proved beyond doubt, and the ground thus cut away from beneath the feet of those unbelieving writers P Or, perhaps, you habitually read some able Protestant periodical which deals in controversj^ or occupies itself with comments on the struggle going on at home and abroad between the Church and her enemies. But do you also read the Catholic side of each of the questions under discussion ? Do you make it your business to study attentively all the arguments which Catholic theologians have brought to the defence of the truth ? If you do (and, as a Catholic, you will naturally begin with Catholic works) you will have little time and less inclination to read the opposite errors. For, be- sides that, the grace of faith will fill you with joyful cortideuce in the truth you possess, yoa will find that Catholic writers are in the habit of giving full answers to all objections. Besides, in such cases, even the material time for such studies would be wanting to you. We fear much, however, that this desire to know both sides of the question in practice becomes little else than an excuse for reading remarkable works written to advocate what is false. And even if you were willing to carry out con- scientiously this rule of reading books on both sides the danger attending it would forbid its use, save under exceptional circum- stances. To be for ever receiving impressions unfavourable to the Church ; to be constantly reading false statements of fact concerning her doctrines and her acts ; to witness the incessant sneers and derision with which her holiest things are received ; to bring one's self to listen to daily charges against her as being in opposition to all that is free and generous in the modern world, and yet not to bear away any injury, is altogether mor- ally impossible. Gutta cavat lapidem. It 'is vain to quote your past experience; how the freshness of your faith has never faded ; and how whilst, as you admit, thousands fell around you on the right hand and on the left, the evil came not near unto you. The soul is not always conscious of the wounds she re- ceives in this struggle ; it is only when trial and temptation come on, and when she has to exert lu^r best strength to r^nel them, that she finds to her cost how, like 8amson, she has been robbed of her vigour while she slept. DANGEROUS READING. 845 Thus far we have spoken only of clangers to faith; but there is another and universal danger to be feared from indiscriminate reading : we mean dangers to good morals. There are books which, with shameless audacity, describe in plain language the most infamous scenes of vice; there are others which, with greater_ refinement, but not less malice, paint them half dis- guised in the most attractive colours. But, in cither case, their universal theme is the exaltation of the worst passions of the heart of man at the expense of virtue and modesty and Christian self-denial. There can surely be no doubt but that literature such as this should be abhorred by everyone. We cannot neglect, ho\vever, to say one word concerning that passion for works of fiction, even though not in themselves objectionable, which has seized upon the world, and which has struck roots far and wide among the young. It must not be thought that we condemn works of imagination as such. The mind has its flower-garden as well as its corn-fields to bo cultivated, and the best and holiest have not been indilfcrcnt to the cha ms of literature. What we condemn is the habit of giving one's self up to the reading of books of this class exclusively, or almost to the exclusion of more serious studies. Such a habit exercises the worst effects on the heart and upon the mind. The constant perusal of works of fiction unduly develops the imagination at the expense of the reasoning jjowers, thus disturbing that order of the faculties which nature has established. Besides, it extinguishes all taste for serious studies, especially for the study of history, and where laborious habits of patient and steady work are thus neglected, the mind loses its vigour, and the whole character, dwarfed by the want of healthy exercise, becomes puerile and feeble. The same disastrous effects, though in a minor degree, are the result of newspaper reading, wben carried to the excess for which our age is so remarkable. How many are there, both young and old, whose reading alternates between novels and newspapers, newspapers and novels ! And what can be expected from minds fed upon such garbage ! The best faculties of the understand- ing — judgment, attention, memory, comprehension — become so depressed and weakened by this desultory reading of trifles that tliey are no longer able to brace themselves to any high effort worthy of the rational soul of man. From what we have said, it is evidently the duty of all to exercise great prudence in the choice of books. Two practical rules of great importance may be laid down to guide us in this matter. First, the necessary should go before the useful, the useful before the amusing. Second, wo should deny uurselves all such books as are noxious or dangerous, and we should exer- cise great restraint on ourselves with regard to such as, though m ;■ ' ; > I 1 . 1 ]' , qli 4i 346 DR. WIIATELY AND THE indifferent in themselves, are nevertlieless easily abused. "We should have moral strength enough to resist the tide of public opinion when it would draw us to read some new book remark- able for its novel theories against faith or ' und philosophy, or famous for the enchanting pictures it gives of a life forbidden to Christian souls. Nor should we fail to express, in presence of others, our feelings on such a subject. One quiet display of contempt against the idol of the perverse fashion of the day may bo the means of freeing others, especially the young, from a thraldom as dangerous as it is unreasonable.** DR. WHATELY AND THE NATIONAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. 1. We do not undertake in this paper to set before our readers a complete portrait of the late Protestant Archbishop of Dublin. Of his private life, described as by his latest biographer,t and of his peculiar place in the literature of the age, we shall say nothing in this place. " As to Dr. Whately," writes Dr. New- nian m the Apohffia, " I owe him a great deal. He was a man of generous and warm heart. He was particularly loyal to his friends." On the whole, he was a man of more than ordinary powers, and the circumstances of the time furnished him with peculiar opportunities of employing those powers on matters very closely connected with the interests of Ireland. The Pro- testant Arclibisliop of Dublin, ordinarily speaking, is little able to^ influence tlie march of public events ; he must be satisfied with "wearing lawn sleeves, and being called your Grace," being conscious, at the same time, that the Catholic archbishop IS looked upon as the real ruler of the people. But Dr. Whately's connection with the National Board of Education, and the office assigned to him of composing the books which were to form the ... * On this whole subject see Zaccaria, Storia pohmica delle proUzione del tibri ; and an uxeellciit article in the July number of the Mudcfi. t Life and Cornspoudence of li. Whately, D.D., by E. Jane Whately. Two volumes. Loudon, 18G0. ^ NATIONAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. 347 minds of the youth of the country at a very critical period, in- vest his history with particular importance. What manner of man was »his who assumed to himself the grave responsibility of writing the books that were to instruct a nation ? What use did he make of the boundless influence thus placed in his hands ? What result did he propose to himself to achieve ? In the case of any country this would form an interesting subject of in- quiry ; but to Irish Catholics it is one of the last importance. For, should it appear on examination that the object of his labours was to imbue with his own errors the tender Catholic minds which had been given to him in charge ; should it appear that, under pretence of being educated, the youth of Ireland were to be weaned from the Catholic religion, then the Catholics of Ireland have a right to feel indignant that they should have been thus wantonly betrayed. Such a discovery would also justify them in their distrust of any fresh plan of education proceeding from a similar source, and in their demands for such safeguards as should render it impossible for the Education System ever again to become an instrument of proselytism. 2. In a pastoral published in the year 1853, on occasion of the threatened legislation against convents, which legislation was recommended by Dr. Whately, Cardinal Cullen used these words : — " We can now form a just estimate nf the character of a man who for many years lias been insidiously at work to have the management of the education of the country m his hands ; we can undei'stand with what feelings he dictated the M-orks that were destined to form the minds of our children. Had he been able to form the National System to the image and likeness of hia own works, and to infuse into it tiie spirit that pervades them, without suspecting his in- tentions, we may say that scepticism, rationalism, and infidelity would have been the poisoned fruits we should have gathered from it. Time will tell whether any seeds of these baneful productions have been cast into the soil. But, as far as wc can see, tliough there is much to be regretted, we have reason to be thankful to a bountiful Providence for having preserved the germ of faith uninjured amongst us ; and we cannot but feel grateful to all those who, whether ofticially connected or not with the J'rotestant dignitary just mentioned, in the management of the education of the country, have laboured to keep things in their proper channel, and, as far as in them lay— for their position must have been one of great dilKculty, having to contend with a personage whose autho- rity was of great weight until his ojjinions became known-to give fair play to all, and not to allow anyone to invade the just rights of others " (pp. 22, 23). These grave charges were much commented on at the time they were uttered, and since, and were ascribed by many to a spirit of narrow-minded and uncharitable bigotry. Confident in the truth of his assertions, the cardinal appealed to the verdict of time to toll v.-hofbf^r or not the attempt had been made to use the National System of Education as a means of sowing in the virgin soil of the youthful Catholic intellect of Ireland the seeds ■H a '' 348 DR. WHATELY AND THE h«U of pernicious doctrines. That verdict has now been delivered. The charges alleged by Cardinal Cullen against Dr. Whately in connection with the National System have been fully con- firmed, and confirmed by Dr. Whately himself. The documents contained in the recent biography of the late Protestant Arch- bishop of Dublin, published by one to whom his honour and fame are naturally most dear, are such as to throw a new light upon the history of the National System, and to help Catholics to a right appreciation of its character. One and all, these documents constitute a signal justification of the action taken by the Catholic bishops in this most important matter. That action was the natural result of their conviction of the truth of the accusations contained in the pastoral mentioned above, and these accusations have now been substantiated by the guilty person himself. Ilahcmus confitentem rciim. 3. If it be true, first, that Dr. Whately was aware from the very beginning that the National System was founded to supply secular instruction only, without any Scriptural instruction; tliat, secondly, notwithstanding this, he succeeded in having himself constituted the source from which Scriptural instruction was to bo dispensed throughout all Ireland ; and if, thirdly, he deliberately and advisedly framed that Scriptural instruction in such a way as that it would destroy the Catholic religion in the minds of tlie scholars, then it must be admitted that the pastoral, far from being narrow-minded, was most sagacious ; far from being uncliaritable, was strictly just. Now, it is remarkable that each of these three points is abundantly proved from Dr. Whntely's own letters, and from the testimony of his own most intimate friends, 4. And, first of all, Dr. Whately was well aware that Lord Stanley, m founding the National, did not intend to offer to the Irish people any education beyond a secular one. " Six years ago or more," he writes, in 1838, to Dr. Arnold, who had written to ask some questions in reference to the then newly- founded London University, " I should have been rather in- clined to doubt tlie possibilitj^ of having any instruction, or any examination in Cliristian Scriptures, that all various denomina- tions might possibly partake of. W/icn Lord Stanley formed the Education Board he had no mch thought. . . . But had the plan gone no further than Lord Stanley at ^fir-it proposed and expected, 1 should not have considered it as furnishing education, but only a portion of education ; and I should have been glad to furnish even a small part of that portion if no more could have been admitted" (vol. i., pp. 408, 410). 5. Upon a board founded to give a secular education exclu- sively, and accepted by Catholic Ireland only on that under- NATIONAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. 349 standing, Dr. Whately accepted a place. Did he, in his now position, loyally carry out Lord Stanley's express intentions as to the exclusively secular character of the training ? or did he work for years to have the management of the education in his own hands, so that he might to the secular add Scriptural in- struction ? His daughter tells us that he entered on the under- taking with the most earnest desire of extending the blessings at least, of civilisation and intellectual culture, and, as far as he thought practicable, Scrijitural Knowledge likewise, among his adopted countrymen of all creeds. It was mainly through his instrumentality that a considerable portion of the Scriptures— a work of his own on the Evidences of Christianity, and a volume of Sacred Toetry— wore introduced. For years ho laboured diligently to carry out the system in its integrity j and it was only when, as it appeared to him, the system had been infringed by the withdrawal of those books, that he withdrew from a work he could no longer conscientiously carry on (pp. 138 139 vol. i.). ' ' In the letter to Dr. Arnold, from which we have quoted above, he thus describes the issue of his exertions : — _ " The result, however, was complete success. All the efforts to raise jealousy l"/,7^^/",«« *° t^« Scripture extracts have, withip. the schools tliemselves totally failed. They are read with delight and profit by almost all the chill dren ; and I and other Protestants, as Bishop Stanley knows, have examined children of all denominations, without knowing to which each child belonged raising no jealou.sy, and finding them better taught in Scripture than moat gentlefolks' children " (vol. i., p. 401). Nothing could exceed the solicitude with which he laboured at this task. The Has?/ Lessons on Christian Evidences was the darling of Dr. Whately's heart. The allusions made to it in his papers are remarkably numerous. In 1837, he mentions, with great exultation, that a great number of Eoman Catholics are now beginning to read the Evidences. In 1839 he transmitted the sum of twenty-one pounds to the Pastor Fabre, at Lausanne, whose -\vife had translated the work into French, and remarks that his own daughter had begun a translation of the text into French and also into Italian. He himself, he writes, laboured more at the style of that little tract than at that of any volume he ever published. The whole was subjected to the most careful revision of friends, and written over three or four times. In 1840, in a letter to the Bishop of Norwich, he again alludes to the French and Italian versions, and adds, " perhaps your son can loarn whether any could be usofully conveyed to the Greek islands." In 1845, writing to Bishop Copleston, he speaks of a proposed Welsh translation, and of one in Romaic, which had Wi ■■ d as an instrument of conversion, but I will do my utmost to Miako it such, while I recommend it on other grounds to the t ccodulous Irish Catholics ?" 7. And hero we mii.'.. uoUce a painful inconsistency between the public reasons assigned by Dr. Whately for his retirement from the Board, and his private principles as described by him- self. For above twenty-one years did he manage to conduct the National Education on the plan above described. But, in 1853, his Lcusois on the Evidences, the object of his most tender solici- tude— the work which he had caused to be translated into some fourteen lan^-uages — and which had cost him more labour than bis most voluminous works, was rejected by those ungrateful Irish Catholic children for whose enlightenment it had been composed. His retirement from the Education Board followed quickly upon the resolution passcl by that bodj to the effect that the Scnptiire Lessons and the Evidences of Christianity were to be no longer used in the National Schools. The motives which Dr. Whately assigned for the step he took in withdrawing from the Board have been long before the public, and especially with that portion of it which had been induced to adhere to the National System of Education by the bait of such books as were just condemned. But until to-day the public bad not the oppor- tunity of comparing Dr. Whately's dignified protest against breaking faith with others, with Dr. Whately's candid admission to Mr. Senior, that secretly he used " the Education Board as an instrument of conversion," although " he could not openly support it as such." As far back as 1853* the public heard him say : " I fully concur in the general proposition that the Commissioners are not ■wrong in prohibiting the use, at the time of combined instruction, of a religious book which Roman Catholics believe to be iucoaaistent with the Joctrinea of their Church." i3ut all to-day the public has not had an opportunity of com- paring that statement with the following : «' I believe that mixed education is gradually enlightening the mass of the people, and that if we give it up we give up the only hope of weaning the Irish from the abuses of Popery" (p. 266, vol. li.). • Letter to the Lord Lieutenant, July 26. 1853, p. 284. NATIONAL SYSTKM OF EDUCATION IN IKELAND. 353 A man whose public and private utterances are thus contradic- tory ought surely to be the last to censure others for a breach of good laith. 8 Besides his arguments as against the Board which ex- c uded his books can be most effectively retorted against himself JJr. Whately, according to an admirer,* was pre-eminontlv a man of " major premises," and where his readers dissei t from hiscoaclusmnH it us, ni the majority cf cases, in the «./... premise that the difference will be found. In words that non-logicians will understand his general principle is almost always true while, in his application of it to particular cases, there mijy be now and then something to question. This criticism is not Tn 'i!^ .""f f^'^^^^Jiy"'^ ourselves of it in the matter on hand of Dr. Whately 8. The major premise indictment against the Commissioners runs thus : — ° "When some books or some rules liave been deliberatelv sanctioned hv th^ unanimous vo.ceo the Commissioners, and have been for Cy fer™^^^^^ to m vmd.cation of the system, and as a ground on which co operation was in v.ted and oDta.ned, if afterwards this decision is reversed Tnd £ srnction Withdrawn, such a gross breach of faith could not fail to deprive for ever Z ^S^r^^:t^S'Z^^T ^'' ""'' '' parties^to?t/:[arpubt This general principle is true and very accurately stated bv the Archbishop ; but, as Mr. Dickinson warns us, in tho appli- cation of It to the particular case, there is much to question Ihe minor premise, which contains the application, is this : — K„„l'J''1 Board has passed a measure («. e. ^he prohibition of the archbishon's books) which I have protested against as an unjustifiable breach of Taithwrth n^tr^n ^^?'*r?' '"«'-^o^«'-..iti«^gro3S injustice towards the many hundred Kf-f ^t^"^^ "^^^ were mvited and induced to place them under the Board Instead oi; Dr matcly's minor premise let us substitute one from Cardinal Cuilen's letter of 15th December, 1860 : \\ "When Lord Stanley first propose^ he mixed system. Catholics were solemnly assured that under it their chi' .-en would be free h'om the remotest danger of prose yt.sm, and it was understood that the action of t^e Government should be restricted to the giving of aid to schools, and to inspection as to the application of the funds anc! theliterary progress ^f the ch lien But ?ho8e flattering promises have not been realised: The safeguards laid down bv Lord Stanley have been gradually withdrawn; Catholic children are n^w pubhcy •Rev. Hercules Dickinson, vol. ii. appendix, p. 433. t ^i:^""}^ ^^^ ^"^""^ Lieutenant, July 5th, 1853. ilfi i^V"'^.^- f ! ^^f • . . . §^*"^ ' J"'y 26th, 1853. It Mr. Fitzpatrick s Memoirs of Archbishop Whately, vol. ii., p. 174. \ Wik ]■ 24 354 DR. WHATELY AND THE vm receiving instruction from Protestant teachers ; books replete with an anti- Catholic spirit, and compiled from Protestant sources, under the direction of a dignitary of the Protestant establishment, thfi author of a work entitled Errors of Romaimm, have been published at the public expense, and introduced into the schools for the use of Catholic children." Every single statement contained in this minor premise has been endorsed by Dr. Whately himself, as we have seen above.* He admits Lord Stanley's original plan to have been such as the Cardinal describes it ; he admits that this plan has not been realised;! he admits that Catholic children received religious instruction from Protestant teachers ;.t he admits that the books composed by himself for the use of Catholic children were re- plete with anti-Catholic spirit.§ The conclusion may be drawn in his own words: therefore " this gross breach of faith cannot fail to deprive the Commissioners, and all other public men who may be parties to it, of all public coniidence and of all just claim to it." Since, then. Dr. Whately, as his daughter assures us, was " mainly instrumental " in engrafting religious instruction upon a system which had been founded and accepted on iho very condition that it should give none other than secular in- struction, Dr. "Whately, by his own principles, was justly de- prived of all public confidence and of all reasonable claim to it ; and the act of the Connnissioners, so far from being a breach of public faith, was in some degree an act of reparation of a breach of public faith. 9. The following extracts furnish the reader with some account of his feelings towards Catliolics, and especially towards the Catholic clergy. Ilis explanation of the so-called Irish conversions is thus given in Mr. Senior's diary : — " The Archbishop is president of the Society for Protecting tlie Rights of Conscience. For some time a considerable conversion to Protestantism has been goin^ on in Ireland. The converts are to be numbered by thousands, not by hundreds. " I asked to what these conversions were to be attributed ? What were the causes which Iiad suddenly opened men's minds to arguments which had been addressed to them for years without success ? " ' The causes,' said the Archbishoi), ' must be numerous ; it is not probable that I am acquainted with them all, or that I assign to tliose which occur tome their relative importance ; . . . but I will tell you all that I know or conjec- ture, and I will also tell you what opinions are current. Many persons think that it is owing to the general diffusion of bibles, Testaments, and prayer-books, by the societies instituted for those purjioses. liut those societies have been at work for many years, and the conversions on the present scale are recent. Others believe, or i)rofes3 to believe, that the conversionj are purchased. This is the explanation given by the Roman Catholics. An old woman went to one of my clergy, and said : ' J am come to surrender to your reverence, and I want the leg of mutton and tho blanket.' * See above, { 4. tH- t§5. § Sec. 6. NATIONAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN IRELAND. 355 " 'u^^ r^*. ^?^ °^ mutton and blanket ?' said the clergyman • ' I hav*. BPar^.i enough of either for myself and my family, and certam^ no'no to dve S could have put such nonsense into your head ?' ^ ^ "" " 'Why sir,' she said, ' Father Sullivan told us that the converts trot earh a leg of muoton and a blanket, and, as f am famished and starving witlfcoldT thougli t tiiat God would forgive me for getting them ' ^'*'^^">g ^ '^'^ cold, I " ' But our society has for months been challenging those who snreid f)„-a calumny to prove it. We circulate queries, asking for evi en^ tha^t rewi, f or mducements have been held out, directly or indirectly persons who Zl themselves converts Not only has no case been substan^tiat^flnoTaseh^ even brought forward. Instead of being bribed, the converts untnthlv!r« numerous enough in any district to protect one another?are opp es t 'Z aU tie persecution that can be inflicted in a lawless country by Tuz scrupulous priesthood, hounding on a ferocious peasantry. Another exnlanrton^rf ho? It , sowing to the conduct of the pdests during the O'WTerrSlion ' Th« iiife iiiLin. iiit. lact IS tiuo, but it is not enough to account for convPi-s.Vma it, many parts of Ireland which were not agitatecf by that inovement:'""' '° Another theory is, that it is mainly owing to the different condn^f nf fl,» Protestant and Roman Catholic clergy during the famine * T^.W^f! clergy literally shared their bread, oA^Lther tllir me H" k tl.S p 'i Scrs without the least sectarian distinction; they devoted all th, ti.f , n /i • energy, all their health, and all that ihe pUr Law ,ef ttm of let sS revenues to tljose who were starving around them Their ^^■ivnl o,„l 1. w passed their days in soup kitchens and meal rations. '' ""^ '^'"°''*'" ' llie Eoman Catholic clergy were not sparing of their persons • tliov Uv«,l and a great many of them die.l, among the sick ; but the habit t .at ckrlj wn.t 1 ' K tl'ela'ty goo.l works, at least as far as alms.'ivina is a ^ood work. A great part of them, indeed, during tlie famine had not! m tn J?,° hey starved with their flockn when their flocks ceaned ti ay 2 ^t others had means of their own, and many of those who took part in t k dU ibution o the Government money, or of d,e English subscriptions, he WthemsS out of the funds which passed through their hands to what tl-ev cons de.ed tn be the amount .lue to them from the? people. But no na t of f 1 n^ , unsalaried must be supported by voluntary contributions tv 1 rSs In o poor a country as Irehind voluntary contributions cannot be relic on Tl p priest might often starve if ho .lid not exact his .lues ; and, as 'e , s ,^ h^'l rights, Ins only mode of exacting them is to make their pav'mcn t e c md km on w.:.cli his ministrations are performed. Hut, .luring the famine upM W.as obviously impossib e. When, un.ler such eircunistances t" e s;c™.nt8 which the priest aliirined to be necessary nassnorts to hcav. n wnr,^ ^''f''^~^ people could not, avoi.l inferring eitl,..r Uulu^Lst t nen:^^ n o'ier^^ JSn^^b^^^iSSviiio^''""-'^-'-^''^ '• ' I bt'heve that tins explanation is not without its truth, and that the in c^ndualo tha'r'^Ir:"' Hn.'^'l""^'^ has been weakened by tl,; contract of hS conduct to that of ours. But I am inclined to attach more importance to the To appreciate better the injustice of this account of the Catholic clerffv the reader ought to call to mind that Dr. \\ Lately publicly announced to his derJ^ that, lest they should carry "the infection to their own fa.niSs they S under no obligation to atten.l persons dying of contagious d seases." ^ I I 356 i!i Dn. WHATET.Y AND THE NATIONAL SYSTEM, ETC. acquisition by the Protestant clergy of the Irish language. Until within a few years Protestant doctrines had never been preached in Irish. The rude inhabi- tants of the remote distric's in Munater and Oonnauglit believed that English was the language of heretics, and Irish that of saints. The devil, they said, cannot speak Irish. " ' About ten years ago, on my first visitation, after the province of Cashel had been put under my care, I asked all the clergy what |)roportion of their f)arishioners spoke nothing but Irish. In many cases the proportion was very arge. \ And do you speak Irish ?' I asked. ' No. my lord. ' ' I am very sorry to hear it,' I replied. 'Oh,' the clergyman always said, ' all the Protestants speak Eugliah.' ' That is just what I should have expected,' I replied ; ' under the circumstances of the case, it would be strange indeed if any who speak only Irish were Protestants.' This sort of dialogue became much rarer on my second triennial visitation, and at my last there was scarcely any occasion for it. Tliere are now very few of my clergy who cannot make themselves understood by all their parishioners, and I am told that the effect of this vernacular preaching is very great.' " His own theory was that tlio conversions wore the work of the National System of Education, "Wo above in n. 6. have given his words HIS OPINION AHOUT MAYNOOTH. " ' Would you support,' I asked, ' Maynooth ?' "' I am not sure, answered the Archbishop, 'that its original institution was wise. Mr. Pitt thought that the younc priests were taught disaffection and anti-Anglicanism at Douai.and he created for their education the most dis- affected and the most anti-English establishment in Europe ; but having got it, we must kee^ it. While the grant was annual it might have been disoontiiiued ; now that it is permanent, to withdraw or even to diminish it would be spolia- tion. It would be gross abuse of the preponderance in Parliament of the Bri- tish members. We have no more right to deprive the Irish Roman Catholics, against their will, of the provision which we have made for the education of their clergy, than they would have, if they were numerically superior, to pass an act for the sale of the colleges and the estates of Oxford and Cambridge, and the application of the produce in the reduction of the National I)el)t.' " 'And yet,' I said, 'you concurred in wishing the act to be extended to Ireland.' " ' What I concurred in, said the Archbishop, ' was not in wishing that such an act should be passed for the British Islands, for I utterly disapprove of it ; but in wishing that it should not be passed for England alone. 1 believed the &ri, if general, to be a great evil, but a still greater evil if confined to England. It was saying to the English Roman Catholics : Yon are weak and loyal, there- fore we trample on you ; to the Irish : You are strong and rebellious, therefore we leave you alone.' " HIS oriNio:; of ikish mkdicai, men. "'You remember,' said the Archbishop, 'our concocting a paper on the Trades' Unions, w'^ich have destroyed the commerce and the nrincipal manu- factures and har. .'"ts of Dublin, and foice us to import almost everything except poplint .. i. porter, which drive ships from Dublin Bay to be re,.alred in Liverpool, and have rendered our canals useless. ' " Well, the medical men of Dublin are almost outdoing in narrow-minded- ness, selfishness, and tyranny the ignorant weavers and carpenters. Tliey havj made au ordinance that no fellow or licentiate of the Royal College of Surgeons RITUALISM. 357 Hhall pretend, or profess, to cure diseases by the deception called ' homoeonathv ' or the pracUce called 'mesmerism,' or by any other form of 'oZ^7rv> nnll that no fellow or licentiate of the college ^hall'^onsuTt S, meet?advis7direct or assist any such person engaged in such deceptions or practices orrany sva-' tem of practice considered derogatory or disLnourabfe by the physidans^or Hurgeons. In the spirit of this ordinance a surgeon refused to attcWmeuiJess I would promise to give up homasopathy " (volfii., 405). illTtALISM. We propose in th^s paper to furnish our readers with some account oi the present Ritualistic movement in England. The I vigour exhibited by that movement, the searching influence it now exerts throughout a society hitherto sealed against it, and the character of the results it has already produced, combine not unreasonably to gather around it a large share of public interest. ° '^ A plain recital of facts will be the best ^ olp we can give our readers towards forming a correct judgment of the nature of this remarkable religious movement in the Anglican Church, of Its extent and of its bearing on the spread of the Catholic faith ui i^ngland. To understand the Ritualism of to-day we must bear in mind its connection with the so-called Tractarian teach- iiigs ot 1.863. Coleridge has said that the metaphysics of one generation become the ethics of the next. By a similar process ot devailopment tlie doctrinal teaching of the early Oxford move- ment has found a visible exponent in the ceremonial worship of the present year. And herein lies the true importance of Kituahsm, that it I the fruit of matured conviction on points ot doctrine, and not merely "a busy looking-up of medijcval milhnery, as the Contcuipomn/ liccicw would have us Relieve. 1^0- some time past the religious and even the secular press lius teemed with narratives of the doings to be witnessed in the churches of the Ritualists. The various details thus supplied are brought to a focus in a remarkable report* drawn up by a Nov vcmber 'S' o'fa? *'''' '''^°'^ '^'^ "'^ '"^'^''^^'^'^ ^ ^^^ ^^"'^''' ''^■' ^0' *?. r, 1866, p. 3)r assisting at the Holy Mysteries; and in these instructions the doctrine of the real presence and of the Eucha- ristic Sacrifice is expressed in the plainest possible language. The book also prescribes prayers for the faithful departed. Two large editions of this work have already appeared. More than four thousand copies of a snuiller book of tlie same kind, called the Little Frrti/er-Bouk, have been sold within the last two years. Other books breathing likewise a higli Catliolic tone are exten- sively circulated. Many are specially devoted to the Eucharist, and of one of tliese, The Altar Manual, thousands of copies have been sold. Others treat of sacramental confession, such as Pardon through the Precious Blood ; others aim at propagating some particular devotion, such as towards the Passion of Our Lord. The following are extracts from the Little Prayer-Bool- : — * "At tlie words, This is My body, this is My blood, you must believe that the bread and wine become the real hodij and hlood with the soul and Godhead of Jesus Christ. Bow down your heart and body in di-epest adoration when the priest says tliese awful words, and worship your Saviour then verily and indeed present on his altar (p. 18). " Tlie following prayer is offered up : ' Look down, Holy Father, upon the sacrifice of Thy well-beloved Son, n-hich w now prenented hy thy prieM on earth, and which He Himself is offering to Thee in heaven, and for the sake of this • Eev. R. P. Blakeney, p. 37. Discussion between Rev. J. Hunt and the Rev. R. P. Blakeney, at Clifton (April 17, 180(3), on the Ritualism of the Church of England. iniiii RITUALISM. 359 mighty sacrifice grant me (here name your special intention). Remomber also for good a 1 for wliom I ought to pray. Eless my parents, my friendTmv m-ielt am the whole Catholic Church, and, nay all thV dead in ffist recSlSt and peace.' Then tlie prayer is offered up, ' Blood of Christ, inebriate me ' And the Litany of the sacrament contains the following petitions : ' i^°^* *'''^ '"^"'^ adorable Sacrament, have mercy on us ' ' Most holy of all sacrifices, have mercy on us.' ;; 'True propitiation for the living and the dead, have mercy on us.' Most wonderful of all miracles, have mercy on us ' .'! '< 1, " Mu""* "^ *''*"" *^** '''^ '" ^^^ ^°^^' have mercy on us.' Lord.' P'e^ous blood, which Thou has left us on our altars, deliver us, " 'That it would plea,se Thee to strengthen and fortify us with this heavenly viaticum at the hour of death. We beseech Tliee,' &c (p 2") neaveniy f„l " 7'6.omg to communion the following direction is given": ' Be most care- ful to receive into your mouth all, even the smallest portion of the most holy t^acrament, since one crumb or drop of it is wortli more tlian the world itself ' " This is an act of adoration. ' O Lord Jesus Christ, with the Antrels and tr!2r.T^'' ,T ''''' I'oly, brother and all Saints. I w^rshfjand ado?? Thee (p 4.3)? "'''"' ^^^ ^"''"'*'"* "' *'"" "'°'* ''"-'^y Sacrament of the altar ' wo ',!mv".'!n r"''"''''i' n t''° ^'ir'''"^ P?y"' '' "ff*'''^'! = ' '^^''th grateful hearts ThV ^nni \ i' ^ ^^°''-^' t^'^S^^'^^^l 'nysteries of Thy passion and death, riiy rerun rection and ascension. Here is Thy body that was ' ■ en, Thy blood that was shed for iis, of which these outward signscire but tl ures, ancl ye in reality contain the substance. Now we truly offer to Thee, O Lord, that pure and holy victim which Thou hast been please.l to give us, of which al ot ler acnhces were but types and fi,.,.ures.' The JJlr.cforunn A>,r,Uca>unn co.Ss forio^'TiVrr^'i M^,"'' V'" r^'^'l '"^^'"^ is My body, which is given foi you the hostm should be place.l on the paten, and the celebrant with his assistants should reverently genuflect. Then rising, the celebrant shou d at once elevate it with the fust finger and thumb of both hands, dor the worship OK THE FAiTHKUL, while he is Saying, " Do this in remembrance of Me." ' The K.S,Tri"" .""f! «"■'"= '"^f.^'f *''° consecration, in passing before the ] esse.l bacrament the server will be specially careful to gcnufle'ct with the flTftui "^"""'T", ^^7';^'"l'l '•P'»'-'»'l'e'- that the vessels have touched Christ, irtt h^.rrl.''' i"*? '''-^^'^ been very near to him.' Again, 'As the rorpom v.l ,1n^ f f f *I,''" ''!"'l' ''"'^?" ^^''^ *'^" ^"'-^l'^ body, ti.e Church orders the washing of It with a minute and pious care .' < The corporal may not be touched afte, use by laics without especial permission ; nor must it eve. bo washe.l after use m domestic vessels unti it has been first washed by a clerk in holy orders, when it may be touched by laics again.' j- c o, " Even private Mass is introduced, though the Church directs that there shall be a convenient number present. The editor of the Dlrectorium Anall- ctnum shows /,ow private Mass may be celebrated. He savs, ' This need not practically even prevent celebration, at least on Sun.lays" and festivals; for even if the people withdraw after the prayer for the Church, if the oblation has been made, as of course it will have been, the service must go on. Much KouSed hi'"' '"''''""■'' '''''° '''^'' °*' ''°"'''''' '^"'""'""i'^'^te si)iritually. " Further amongst the cautels the following arc given : ' liut if t!.e chalice have dropped upon the altar, the The change introduced by the movement displays itself above all m the celebration of the Eucharist. It is hard to find in England a diocese in which the use of the full set of sacred vestments for priests has not been more or less fully restored in the parochial churches. In some dioceses you will find only a parish here and there in this condition ; in others, a dozen, or even more ; in one or two dioceses the restoration is still more general. In large and wealthy churches the celebrant is attended by a deacon and sub-deacon fully robed. In a few churches there arc also other ministers— acolytes, thurifers, &c. Lighted candles on the altar during the rite are still more common even than the vestments. During the celebration of the Eucharist the celebrant and his assistants observe with more or less exact- ness the gestures and postures prescribed by the rubrics of tlie Missal. The use of incense obtains in many churches in the form fixed by the same authority. At solemn celebration it is usual in manv churches to begin with the singing of the Lifroif, according to the Sarum or Roman Missal. The responses, Credo, Offertory, Saiicfiis, Gloria in Ex- cchts, and Agnns Dei, during the priest's communion, are sunf $> I 364 RITUALISM. " Thirdly, the Liberal party, in former centuries called by the less honourable name of Latitudinarian. It rose out of the quasi-Catholic or court party of Charles the First's reign, and was fostered and spread by the introduction into England of the principles of Grotius and of the Arminians of Holland. ... It took the part of t^o revolution of 1688, and stood by the Whigs, by William the Third, and by the House of Hanover. The genius of its principles is adverse to display or proselytism : . . . it has not numbered many followers till the last ten years, when, irritated by the Tractarians taking advantage of the conversion to Rome of some of their principal men, and aided by the im- portation into England of German literature, it has suddenly come forward on the public stage, and has propagated itself with such wondrous rapidity among the educated classes that it would seem as if in the next generation the religious world will be divided between Deists and Catholics. Indeed its principles and modes of reasoning do not stop even at Deism. " If the Anglican communion simply consisted of these three parties it could not endure. It would be broken up by its in- ternal dissensions. But there is a far larger party in it than these three theological parties which, created by, and availing itself of, the legal status of the Church, its endowments and its fabrics of worship, is the ballast and bond of union of the whole. This is the party of order, or the Conservatives, or, as hitherto they have been called, the Tories. It is not a religious party ; not that it does notinclude a large number of religious men in its ranks, but that its principles and watchwords are political, or at least ecclesiastical, rather than theological. Its members are not Tractarians, nor Evangelicals, nor Liberals ; or if they are, they are so in a very mild and inoffensive form ; for in the eyes of the world their chief characteristic is that of being ad- vocates of an Establishment and of t/ic Establishment ; and they are more eager that there should be a national Church than careful what that national Church professes. . . . They consti- tute the mass of the Church : especially the clergy throughout the country, bishops, deans, chapters, cures, have ever been dis- tinguished by their Toryism. . . . This large body of men, the true representatives of that good sense for which England is, for good and evil, so famous, look, for the most part, with suspicion on all theology and theological practices ; and in particular on the three which have already been described. In the seven- teenth century they opposed 'the Puritans ; at the end of that century they opposed the Latitudinarians ; in fhe middle of the eighteenth they opposed the Methodists and Evangelicals ; and ill our own time tlicy were first strong against the' Tractarians, and now ag■ain^■t Liberals." RITUALISM. 365 With this admirable map of the Establishment spread out betore us it will be easy for us to estimate the extent of the settlement already effected by the Ritualists, and to forecast with some degree of accuracy the future fortunes of the party At the first glance it is evident that Ritualism is as yet far ' very far from being universal in the Establishment. It is rejected by the Evangelicals ; it is rejected by the Latitudinariuns ; it is rejected by the great Conservative party in the Church. Now oi the three religious parties in the Establishment, Dr. Newman declares the Evangelicals to be at present far the most powerful • the Latitudinanans to be wonderfully rapid in propagating their views among the educated classes ; and the Conservatives to look with suspicion on all theology and all theological practices. We have thus almost the entire territory of Anglicanism closed against the Ritualistic movement. We cannot, therefore brin? ourselves to believe that its triumph will be either speedy or easily won. It has to make its way against an opposition of the most_ formidable character. We believe, however, that the suc- cess It has hitherto had promises still greater successes for the future. ^ Men do not fight against shadows ; and when we see all parties m the Establishment leagued against the Ritualists we have a convincing proof that the influence of the latter is becom- ing a real power among the people. And, while the obnoxious doctrines and practices are attacked, it is remarkable that they are described not as if declining towards extinction, but as spreading with portentous vigour and ubiquity." " If Ritualism be allowed a locus standi;' says Dr. Blakeney, " it will strive on till It attain ascendency." "The immediate result, wherever Ritualism has been given a fair trial, is, that the proportion of men present in the church is exceptionally large, and that all ranks of society are represented in the congregations, instead of delegates from one, or at most two, sections being found But the most remarkable fact is the flocking in of Dissenters" and of the members of the small tradesman class in general, from which the ranks of Dissent have been hitherto recruited"* '' What IS the result," asks Rev. J. Hunt,t "where they have been introduced ? Why, that thousands of the poor, who have lived forty or fifty years without going to the house of God, have Hocked to those teachers, and have become intelligent and understanding worshippers." Thus foes and friends alike render testimony that the movement possesses a power which helps to support it against the serious opposition which has started up against it. The reception accorded to the Eirenicon, and to-day the keen interest excited by Dr. Pusey's letters on Confession, * The Churdi and the World, Essay IX., p. 242. t Discussion, p. 31. n 1^; 1^^ ^. %. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) y A 'i< ^^ C-'x fA fA 1.0 I.I 11.25 U|28 |50 ™^" 1^ 1.8 JA Hill 1.6 V] ^> c- c^] ^f^l

0?m 'W /A Iliuiugi ajJiiiL. Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^ ■O^ ^ A^ V I. \\ ^9) .V 6^ 'i*.*- ;r°; I the lay administration of tht sacraments. S^ cert^S lavL^^ of^on ' commun on, taking unon themsplvp., tlio r.(^n^ i ceitain laymen of our own about incukatingLrviewsTeglrdn^^^^^^ ^^'^ '^.^«» goi"g " Even if the particulars above stated were to Ipavp nn^r /lnnK+ „» ii sity for the formation of such a society as tirpresen therelslnf * ' "^T " not only to a habit of regarding, the (l.u.c^rteacl^ a"d £ S'tt P^^^^^^^^^^ tant sects as bemg almost identical, and to the not uncommon Practice of °*1t" -it^^^i^'ci^irSi^i^Tt^^^^^^^^ ha, been erected least five places for dissenting worsWn have bmre^SorrZ.^^'"^'",'''"^ "''' bourdaries), at ordained ministers, fo^^king o^ ooLiSnion K^thL^hp"."^ ^\" ' """l ^^^^ "'»''"■ "' »'«'• city as Dissenting Imnisters, "-""^i^oii. na , e witluu the present year been acting in this RITUALISM. 'o combine intain un- IroJand, as the other Qote loyal »> * "^ ecried the I children Q association !• may be the 1861, in the 3ubt that in jeen gaining ir dissenting ncreasing in in try of the be the re- ister of any e Spirit, and of our own been going ministry, as iriance with lileged that ;ed in some ; just as in their own to the more uneducated, the neces- 3 ground for he contents >rised prac- Hence the tion to dis- light sense ch has led the Protes- ice of unit- scession to )rmation of , especially ', there has 1 principles le state of particular been erected irdaries), at 'f those some lommodating f our church other of her :ting in this 369 W ..n the wind, an^d must p^Tie fatld^j^Th^: thet' iZu^ZttntCm^ "^"^''^ *^^ ^^*-^-*« Justify speech at the'rcuS t^ttZ^l^l'''^' ^^^ ^'^ ^"ut'I ^f^^^^X.^l:S^^^ Ktss n^h 7 r'^ *^ -*-'-« give ,s this: that they are so useful-n'v that .^^^^^ fij;st reason M'hich I for the purpose of public instruction IhJZhJ^^ T ^^^olutely necessary pursuits in tlie coirse of my l£ No ■ TL'-lT"'' '"«'«"^ ''^ ^'^"'^ation^ J.as had any experience in education, whe'therEon?.''"/'"" '" ^^^ ^°°"' ^^^o tion-by the means of black-board am chalk ^^"'°»«t'-^t'_on-open demonstra- not absolutely necessary, in order to im^^Vu ^T® ""'^"^ «"ch appliance is vey oa the mtnd of the^pupilT Ind so Tas been'?,"' ^''"'^- ^^^ ^^^^ * ""on- who has restored Ritual that theirconUeAnfr,.. ^ ^""^'"'""''^ °^ everyone nature o that Blessed Sacrifice at LaSn a? ^T.''^™^^^ '""''^ «' the these adjuncts than they have all tleir livTs on. Sott tT*'"°' ^^ *'^^ "-' °f 1 know that m putting this mittpr lit ° without them, present I labour unde^r a d"fa l^ntol beeaus: ?he'^ '"''*"^' T^^*'"^ ^^^ the so h-enly felt as it is by less educat^ coplo • but' ±'"'?.?^ ^''"''^ ^'^^^ '-^ "ot country village, and go into any of thrvt'es in Sn^ '"l^'"' ">*° '"^ little the peop e as to their knowled/e of the iSLafiZl'^^^^^'''^' ^"'J ^^'-^-''^'o nnd a sad defic ency. But whnt ii\v^7 uoctrine ot the Sacrament, and voii will Why. that thousands of tfie'pot '^ho U^e^^T^'^'l ^^^eeA intro'ducrd out going to the house of God, have flocked to t'-"'^ -^^ "^ ^^^ ^'^'^ *'*^- intelligent and understanding worshippers in ff > ^'^"'',' ^"'^ ''^ve become instructing the mind alone I sav th«f^.^[^i, '^ '* ^^''^ f"'' the purpose of persecution that we haTe' 'unSgS tn e^t'abSinf. rrl'" "'i"'^^' «' -O" yet, may be more visibly exhibited-Vonhl l.« . ^i^'*"^l' ^"^l ^hich, even '"•' aS tblSf Ritr^'^ whifhlreTk^lii t^ a'rie!^ "^"^^ '"^ *^^ ^^^-- oo.^'! nary Pr'^J^Iit^S fs^Kfi-e^ oT-^^oS,^ Tt^'^^T'^' ^^^ ^^ O"'"' sthist^^^Le^ii^s^r'^^^*^.^^^-^ attendance. I don't care wh^lfer hi Tp A?^?'']'''.^^" ^'^^'-^^^ get the lar est or professed Churchman, the eloqueXreaeh^r '^^^^^^ °'- B'-Ptfs tion. But people must be taught thit^vl^- ^'" always ' draw' a conmejra. the subjective, namely, the oSctive ' tJa^fL' T^}f ^""'^ "^ •'^'igion besides let of uP* r^"' "°* *° inXct our Jwn ^^'nd^lut to°' f ^ *° <^'^"-h *« Act of Worship to the Ruler of the skies ' "* '° celebrate an august Again, Ritual is a mujhty help to devotion." forms of Catholic worship and thor^W l" T^^^ forgotten indirectly fo. a more 3V rec Sn^^ ^T''"' SerTain^r ^^* t ^"^ ^^^^^^^^^^ external, but, as we have a ready remarked RifnnT • ^ al external: its ceremonies are^the exprt^^^^^^^ ^or example. ,n the discussion from whfcrrhtt'X 26 ■"I ■i! 370 RITUALISM. quoted, tlie following is the proposition maintained by the Rev. J. Hunt : — m "That the Eucharistic Vestments, Incense, and at least two lights on the altar at the time of th'f Holy Sacrifice (commonly called the Mass) can be de- fended by Scripture, Antiquity, the Law of the Church of England, and the rule of expediency." bo also Dr. Newman declares of the party, that it " at pre- sent goes further in the direction of Catholicism than at any former time, or under any former manifestation : so much so that, in the instance of its more advanced adherents, it may be said to differ in nothing from Catholics except in the doctrine of the Pope's supremacy." And again, speaking of the rapid diffusion of the Latitudinarian party, he says that " it would seem as if in the next generation the religious world will be divided between Deists and Catholics." Hence, the progress of Ritualism appears likely to render men's minds more and more disposed to embrace Catholic doctrine. Finally, we are convinced that, at length, Ritualism will place thousands of men face to face with two great questions, upon the solution of which they shall be led to feel that the security of their position depends. Those questions are, the Supremacy of the Roman Pontiff, and the validity of Anglican orders. _ The more keenly they have been taught to appreciate the privilege of being children of the Church, the more ardent their love for everything Catholic, the less satisfied shall they become with any theory which leaves their claim to those Mess- ings doubtful. The greater their devotion to the Blessed Sacra- ment and to the Holy Sacrifice the more jealous shall they become of ail doubt upon the validity of the orders of those through whose ministry they receive what they so truly prize. Hencr "Ritualism must, in the long run, provoke on those two points .he examination it now tends to stifle, and from such an examination conscientiously conducted the best and most lasting effects may fairly be expected. Hi y the Rev. QUARRKL AMONG FREEMASONS. 371 lights on the s) can be de- aud, and the t " at pre- lau at any much so it may be e doctrine the rapid " it would Id will be progress of ! and more alism will questions, 1 that the s are, the Anglican appreciate ore ardent shall they bose Mess- ised Sacra- shall they 3 of those 'uly prize, those two m such an ost lasting A QUARREL AMONG FREEMASONS. ftLXTffett^^^^^^^^^ delegates their fashion, a funeral serviceThon^ur^K^^^^ f /^ Belgians, Leopold the First. That monarch haH?«^ ' ?-^ youth an accepted Mason, but for sevStonr^t? T^'"" ^'^ kmg had ceased to take any nart fJtht ^ T ^^^'L^ ^^ ^^^^^^^ The Masonic temple was Yui^v^i "^"^orkmgs of the order, funeral service aSaZn^fll/^ '''^''^^ '''' ^'^^^^^o^ oi this an inscripS/wht^n?! thus "V'''''"''^''^^^*^ ^' ««-n mmorfelk." The soul Prn.nt' l^ ^^^' ^^^^n^e de Bieu, est inscription, belaS^^rTf/^^^^^^^^ P« immortal soul, gave greafscandafto mtny of tK^^^^ '^ and amongst others to those of Louvain who tihlfT'""-""' letter addressed to the Grand Mn«fpr T ' , following ings of displeasure I^pWfl-V^^^ first month,*T866!~ "" ^""^'^ *^^ ^^*^ ^ay of the " Dear and Illustrious Brother, melt*SBXlld"KrnSSS^^^ of Belgium in might have read the fS Kg seal'^e ^hfch' «~ T ^T' ^" '^^ ^^rethren part of the building :- ^ sentence, which was placed in a conspicuous ' The soul, emanating from God, i, immortal.' cipi: V:,\e"fenXSr86'r '"° ^'^'"'"^'^ ^ *^^- ^-damentai prin- tionforlriSs^Yatl^^^^^^^^ ^^is principle imposes the greatest tolera- 3ou;:ti:trfro*srss^?^^^^^^ ~iption. ^he respeeWue to the convictions of raer^^h^d-^S a^S^iSlist atta:(tSttr£So^S\^^^ P-test3 against the toleration, which are the bases of Belgian ESy." i^'^Smeixt aud of This letter was signed by fifteen members. Orie'n^redlS^^^^^^^^^^^^^ S^'^rJ-pfyt:5;St{?^^ with its matLr!nrtclTredto%r"' '^'^^ 'T^^'^' ^"^ ^it aeciared to the members of that Lodge * Jievue CatfioHque, Dec. 1866, p. 732. Hi t I I ill 372 A QUARREL AMONG FREEMASONS. iiei If m > l.< Ii that, as regards the form of their complaint, ** it is evident both from the spirit of obedience which has inspired the Constitution of the Grand Orient of Belgium, and from the text of the rules of that great Masonic body, that the Lodge Constancy had over- stepped its rights and forgotten its duty by sending in a protest to the Grand Orient, and by adopting the imperious and decre- torial tone in which its missive was conceived." He added that the publication of such a protest " constitutes a direct infringe- ment of the obligations contracted on oath by all Masons, and the Grand Orient cannot censure too much, nor stringently enough repress, this neglect of the most solemn of all Masonic duties." So much for the form of the complaint. As for its matter, the Grand Master first reminds them that already, in 1837, by the first article of the general statutes of the order, " the Orient disengaged the National Masonic body from all dogma, whether religious or philosophical." Next, he reproaches the Louvain Lodge for not having paid attention to the following words ad- dressed by the Grand Orient to all the lodges of his obedience on the 17th day of the 9th month, 5865 :— " Since our Order is an association of men who know how to exercise their own free will, never forget that it is not our business to establish a body of doctrines in religion or in philosophy to which our brethren should be obliged to conform. Our temples should be but vast centres of light, where, all opinions being freely expressed, the. Masons may be enabled to choose the matter of their own convictions. . . . The Grand Orient prescribes no dogma; in our lodges the Materialist, the Positivist, the Pantheist, can live side by side with the Spiritualist. If the principle of the immortality of the soul appears in the rituals or in the formularies ; if the idea of God is found there under the name of the Great Architect of the Universe, it is because these are the tradi- tions of the Order ; but the Grand Orient has never imposed or proclaimed a dogma on any of these points." The Louvain Lodge, indignant at this letter, replied : — *' In our opinion, Free-mason means free-thinker. All philosophical doc- trines not opposed to morals or puljlic order ouglit to have liberty in the Order. In Mt.sonry we admit the Atheist, the Spiritualist, the Positivist, and even the Catholic, if you like it. Is not Masonry universal toleration itself, the mother who receives with equal love all the children of the great human family, pro- vided that they practise fraternal faith ? "Such, too, is the opinion of our brothers the Philadelphi of London, in their manifesto of the 5th May last, which we have already communicated to you. They say : ' Hence it is, dear brothers, that we ought all to endeavour to make our respective lodges and the profane world (that is, society) under- stand that, in order to labour for the general welfare, there is no need to bear the stamp of any sect, of any Cl'.urch, of any philosophical system, or the belly- band {sons-ventriire.) of any Government whatsoever.' " On the 7th of November last this same Lodge of the Phila- delphi of the Orient of London came to a resolution which /ident both onstitution •f the rules ' had over- n a protest and decre- added that ■t infringe- [asons, and stringently ill Masonic its matter, n 1837, by the Orient la, whether le Louvain ; words ad- obedience jxercise their sh a body of 1(1 be obliged t, where, all ;o choose the 23 no dogma ; e side by side soul appears ere under the ire the tradi- proclaimed a led : — isophical doc- in the Order. and even the f, the mother Q family, pro- )f London, in municated to to endeavour ociety) under- I need to bear 1, or the belly- the Phila- tion which A QUAKKEL AMONG FREEMASONS. 373 deserves to be noticed here in connection with the protest of tb« Great Architect of the Universe." It was reLvT„. t oe omitted, and the followmg substituted in its stead • " Tt, i\l name of Reason and of Universal Brotherhood.'' liter comW to this decision, they received, with unanimous applause h! following manifesto addressed to them by the Lodge TuT^^ Zl of ^^^f^cZ:^^^J.^^^^^ the proposal enclose herewith the extract rpliHn„ i^ +V • tf • 30th August, J 866. We tions existing between SevarioufLo^daes*i'th^^^^^^ • • • The rela- much confined to narrow it^^ of frTto^.? T'*^ ^^^^^^ ^'*«^*<> ^00 stopped at exchanges of comp^ments amlTrlZ nf'^f • "^ "1°-'' ^\5J-*y« they masonry require nS more? We tlSk Kes ' ^"^'^'l^hip. Does Free. 'Reciprocal affiliations such as vou nronosptn 1,0 K„„„4. \ ?• ,_• communications between the different Se« til ' ^ ?*^?u''^',"S ^°"*'""'»1 union which is now wanting Onrlr^fo^ '. F supply the close bond of hazard by various"Lres?;ifl nc^"L tn^^^^^^^^^^^ lllT''''''^ '' ""''r ^* of immense power. Ihe distrust and slShness' thai tmT ' ""'*'^ ^°'"'=.? will disappear. The ardour of some wil afouse the sloth nni^'^ "' '? ^^" of us, know ng that he is sunnortorl C v ;= 1 Ia ®'°*., °^ °*hers ; each one firm, and our Snward steps, ZCe hL in^w iThJ ^'" '^^"^ ^^^^l^ '""^^ getic. ^ ' ^^^ Halting, will become vigorous and ener- stiii';^;urw"oHd,'anrtS2iru:^onr^^ *^- —« -^-•^ namely : "^ '^° '^^^<^" the good we propose to attain, To put down brute force ; ^ misery , ;; To rnimble the pride of riches and privileges; rights'^^lSSLTs ttm "'*^ *'*' '^^^'^^''^^ *'' P°- -*o a care for the poor's ened ^orS^' '"'"''"' '''" '"^ ^'^'' '"^*^^'^ '' "-^^-'y P^mising it to a dark- of anttrtlSsTa^^rott^^ou? CTulI of Ib'tJ^ ^"1 '' T'' ^''1''^ stood that by a combined onset w7siUL! , P^^tacles. You have under- you, and we are with you." "'"'"'^ '° removing them ; we thank From these extracts we may gather some important informa tion concerning Freemasonry i the zeligious pS of W of the rSr^r' r^^T^^^^ ^««tile to the religious orders ot the tatholic Church, and incessantly declaim against the t weTar'n'f ^^'r'"'' 'l\^ ^^^^^ P^^^-^ memfeT And yet we learn from the Grand Master's letter that every Mason .f i ' I 374 A QUARREL AMONG FREEMASONS, i ill binds himself by oath to be obedient to his superiors. Now, in the case of the religious orders, the limits of the superior's power are clearly and definitely confined within a certain range, whereas the Mason binds himself to receive with blind obedience the commands laid upon him by an irresponsible and unknown authority on which no check exists. 2. The Freemasons are loud in their denunciations of what they call the slavery of the press as existing in Catholic countries, where a public censorship is established and exercised. And yet, from the Grand Orient's letter, we learn that the publica- tion of their protest by the Lodge Comtancn was a violation of one of the most solemn and strongest of the Masonic obligations. Thus the Freemasons practise in their own case without any authority what they denounce as wicked when put in practice by the divine authority of the Church. 3. The fundamental principle of Freemasons is, by their own admission, free- thinking. 4. The formula about the Great Architect of the Universe and the immortality of the soul has been now formally declared to be an empty phrase, and as in no way asserting the existence of God or of a spiritual soul. Masonry is therefore in itself atheistic and materialistic. 5. The Masonic body aims at the reconstruction of society. The civilisation it would introduce is anti-Christian ; the prin- ciples it instils are anti- Christian. By its own avowal, it labours to efface all idea of God, of the soul, of a fu+ure life, of Provi- dence, and of a revealed religion. It is endeavouring to intro- duce an anti-Christian civilisation which is akin to Socialism. It intends to abolish property, to destroy inequalities in rank, to do away with Christian charity towards the poor. 6. It is not correct to say that Freemasonry in England is free from these impious and destructive tendencies ; that it is merely a benevolent society, the sole aim of which is mutual help and innocent festivity. The PMladclphi of London share the views and join in the'labours of the most rapid among the Continental Lodges. And because the famous motto of their society spoke o^ God, they have cancelled it, and for their gods they have chose, i Reason and Fraternity. 7. Is it any wonder, then, that it is forbidden to a Catholic to be a Freemason ? \k H- Now, in ior'a power ^e, whereas dience tlie unknown IS of what I countries, 3ed. And le publica- iolation of bligations. ^thout any n practice THE RICHT TO EDUCATE: TO WHOM DOES IT BEI.OXG P 375 their own i Universe y declared ) existence in itself )f society. the prin- it labours of Provi- 1^ to intro- Socialism. n rank, to ngland is that it is is mutual ion share mong the ) of their heir gods 1 Catholic THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE : TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? 1. — T/ie question stated. Every child that is born into this world is born with one ffrcat undeniable, pressing need, that of education both physical and moral Limiting our view for the present to the need of moral education as distinguished from phvsical, we are taught bv our reason that the Author of man's being must have mfde certain provision through which thiit want is to be adequately met. At Its birth the child IS member of two natural societies, of which one IS large and one small : the former being civil society, the latter the society of the family. Each of these societies is governed by Its own proper authority, and a question at once arises as to which of these authorities has God confided the right of education. Have the parents the exclusive right of educating their children ? Or does that right exclusively belong to tht btate r- Or is it a joint right to be exercised by both in common? And how are the claims of the Church to be adjusted with the established claims of either ? Few questions are more momentous than this since on its solution depends the welfare not onlv of individuals and in the spiritual order, but of nations rnd in the civil order itself. ^ We propose in this paper to answer it, and to show what parts m the work of education belong respectivelv to the parents, to the Church, and to the State. 2.~Proofs that education is a parental right. Several philosophers who do not pretend to be iatesmen and many statesmen who have no claim to be philosophers, have asserted that education, bein^ a public function, is placed under the control of the civil power. Among others, M. Cousin* de- clares roundly that the State has the right of conferring (or of withholding) permission to teach, since teaching is not one of the domestic natural rights, but a power belonging to the public and to society. We hold, on the contrary, that education is not a lunction of the State, but an inalienable office of the parents. * Dehats, 4th Maroh, 1844, .376 THK RIGHT TO EDUCAIK: m i 1 h.8 18 proved, first, from the natural indissolubility of mar- r...go secondly from the relations established by nature between parent and child; and, thirdly, from the common consent of riters on morals And. first, from the fact that nature wlhcs ttil^Zr^^'/''"'^ *° ^' indissoluble. Even the most cynica p i.losophers have recognised in the marriage contract certain with Eenth ^Z^lr^ indissolubility, and have acknowledgeS Ztfr V^V^"" perpetuity of the marriage bond is in a rcordaace with nature, suited to the wants and circumstances ot families, and more generally favourable to the individual Now what manner of wants are those to meet which marriage Zb' ?'' iS ^' '^\^^^r''' '^ «"^^ --' naturali;ir2! s lubxer' Irincipallythe education of the children, which if the marriage contract were to be broken at caprice, would be ch.ldicn would become castaways abandoned at hazard If therefore, nature has made marriage indissoluble precisely be' cause otherwise the education of the offspring wc. Id be ne..7cted sp'rW ' Air"/" tT^"^^'^ ^^^ ^^^^^ '' educating that off' spring And not only has it given the right, but it has imposed 'X^l;^:^:;^'^''^ '^ bound up^ith a dutyis^alto. IV ^^ ^^^1,"''''^^^^^^' ^^^ ^°^^ carefully and beautifully the Bivme Author of Nature has provided for tlie discharge of the parental duty and right of education. The most %werM natural motives combine to make the parent fit to edu^atrand the chid apt to receive education. Paternal love, the most abidingly cender of all the natural affections, the conscious^ that tlie peace and honour of his family and the support of his mni hoary age depend upon the training given to h^is children, a e strong impulses to urge a father to discharge faithfully what the law of nature teaches him to be a sacred duty. On the children s part, nature has left them absolutely at the power of nVrnf f ' ''"''^^^ 'I *^" beginning they are actually incap- bv iniino^ or thought of their own. so they are taught first by instmct and later by duty, to render full obedience to their parents, and not only to obey, but to obey with implicit confi- dence and love. Thus the perfect discharge of the great work impulses that can sway the human heart, by love. duty, and be onl in f^'"' '^ '^' 1?^l'^ ^^^^^^^^^ '^'^ ^^^^Idren did not belong to the parents, all this exquisite economy, this wonderful adaptation of means to an end. would be aimless and wasted. ^n^i.1 """' i-r •^' T'^^ '^''^^'' ^^°' ^^^^ o^ grounds of natural morality, inculcate on the young the duty of obedience to their teachers, are accustomed to assign as a motive for such ilJiL TO WHOM i)OKS IT IIKLONG ?* ' of mar- between onsont of ire wishes Jt cynical Jt certain owlcdged and is in imstances [dividual, marriage Uy indis- which, if kvould be hesis t^3 tird. If, isely be- eglected, that off- imposed ■ is alto- ully the e of the Dowerful iate, and lie most iousness t of his hildren, lly what On the ower of Y incap- ^ht first to their '.t confi. at work rongest ty, and did not nderful wasted, mds of edience )r such 377 obedience that the teacher stands in the place of a parent ^nA that he 1. the parent's representative. Education twl'/ ren.ams a domestic' function^ even where many parent pr^^^^^^^^^^ IfchTlSKr^ care, a teacher to^^hose ^^^ S.—T/ie Catholic Church jws.sesscs educational rights on two grounds. On merelv natural grounds, then, we conclude that the edu- cation of children belongs of right to the parents. The Church recognises these rights of the parent in their fullest extent and as guardian of all rights, but more especially of natura? ones .he has ever proteclod parents in the exercise of their legitimate authority Jfcr principles and practice ir this matter^are ad mirably illustrated ... the following instance.* In the th^-rteenth century when the temporal power^nd influence of the Popes ZZav f''\HY'' ^hen the brightest diadems i' • arJpe puled before the glory of the tiara, when Innuco.; -.ThTrd and Gregory the 8evenih, and Boniface the Eighth, ruled the vorld from the chair of St. Peter, it was propose'd by some tha? the infant children of Mahometans and Jews shouldVe f^rc blv separated from their parents, baptised and educated as Catho ics to the great increase of the Church and the salvation of souls Ihis proposal met with a determined opposition from St Thomas rS- • ^^ ^^''"' ^^ ^^S"''^' ""'^ny niost powerful Ca holic sovereigns, such as Constantino and Theodosius vho had many saintly prelates like Sylvester and Ambrose to advise them and such men as these would not have neglected to rec™ mend the proposed plan had it been conformabfe to reason Xt t IS not conformable to reason. It is even repugnant to natural justice. Ij or nature has made the child a thing belonging rthe father, and has decreed that, until it attain to the use^f ^reason It should remain under tho father's care. Hence it would be contrary to natural justice that the child, before he has the use of reason, should be withdrawn from the parents' care, or any! thing done in his regard against his parents' will. But when be begins to havt the use of his free will ho begins to be ht own, ana is able to consult for himself in whatever concerns the divine or natural law, and then he is to be led to the faith, not by violence, but by persuasion.f It is on these parental rights that the Church rests, in great * Taparelli, Esame critico, etc., Part I, p. 399. , b. Thorn. 11. 2, Qiimt. x., act. xii. V I i i\ .11 ill . ii ti •■ I i * Is ,: I! 378 THK KIGIIT TO EDUCATE: part, her propagation among men by means of infant baptism. I he law o± nature makes the child, as it were, an instrument, so regulated by the father's intelligence that it thinks with the lather s thought and wills with the father's will. Now, a Catholic parent, by the very fact that ho professes to be a Catholic, pub- licly and solemnly acknowledges before his fellow-men his con- viction of two cardinal truths. He acknowledges, first, that he teels It to be his consciencious duty to submit to the Catholic Lhurch as to the infallible teacher of truth; he acknowledges, secondly, that to belong to the Catholic Church is the sole means of salvation. By virtue of the first of these principles he acknowledges his obligation to follow the guidance of the Church m whatever things concern the possession of the truth and the preservation of the faith ; by virtue of the second he admits his obligation to place within her, as within an ark of salvation, all those whose interests are dear to his heart and who have been confaded to his care. Hence, love no less than duty leads him to hand over his infant treasure to that divine society which he calls by the endearing name of his Holy Mother the Catholic Church. And what that Church refuses to do in the case of unwilling infidels she does in the case of Catholic parents ; and, gladly accepting the child that is offered to her, she regenerates him with water and the Holy Ghost, and incorporates him with her supernatural society. • T?r^ *^^ education of the Catholic child thus incorporated with her the Church can claim, on two distinct grounds, a right to exercise control. First, because she is the divinely appointed guide to truth, and appointed as such by the parents, whom, therefore, she can direct as to the manner in which they are to educate their children so as to discharge their duty faithfully in the sight of God ; secondly, because the child itself has been lecjitmatcli/ admitted to the society of the faithful, and has be- come one of those whom she has to guide to salvation, whom she has to instruct m the truth and to warn against every error. : \ 4.—]\^atii>'e and extent of the cdneational rifjhts of tlie Church. The right of the Church in iha matter of education, the charter by which it enjoys those rights, and the extent and limits of the same, are so admirably set forth in two documents issued hy ecclesiastical authority in Ireland, that we cannot servo our present purpose better than by reproducing portions of them here. Our first extract shall be from the eynodical ad- dress of the Fathers of the Council of Thuries :— ' M TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? 379 r..?■"^ n™,?'' '^^'"^^ ''''>" ^ from the letter addressed bv WSO:-*^ ""^"^ "''^^^ °* "'^ archdiocese 7f «iP Z;I *''^^*."0"» departments of human knowledge, and the exercise of S everTsyrnT oTrdSor"'^"'^"^ ^^*^"^^ *« *'^^ supervision a J ontr^^^ Oatln^Zr^ ^ I !"."^'^*'on proposed or instituted for the children of thn be in?l.fP 1 " >u' '"'* '° ^"y particular department of knowledge tev should awa e, to the episcopal body, according to the words of the Aoostle 'S^u" in mwinn ti7 ' :7"''- • ^.'^ *^,'® education of the children of one diocese is wSen manv H- "'^"'' 'Y'^^'^ ^^"^ jurisdiction of the Ordinary of that diocese ZT ■T^l^'°''''^''^ '"'^'-^ provinces are concerned, then the question is not to or when' thi T ^''^TZ '^•^''°P' ^"* ^y ^^^ t''« prelates of these provinces rJ;,-I ! ^ ^ disagree, by the supreme authority of the Koman Pontiff To resign such a right, to shrink from the duty it involves to siitifer iliVl^tilp" n,i= up t""rh?hand; o'f f"" ^-- t'r-^t--l bosom o7theCWhtVete^^^^^^^^ up to the hands of unprincipled or irresponsible teachers, or to be imbued with erroneous doctrines would be to prove false to the div nTcommis ion we have received, to abandon to the wolf, like the hireling pastoTthe flock TTtyttZ bv"a' tr"ei? ''^'°"°"' i*'''' ^'•°"°'^-^ ".'ust^^wiihUi h (pp. 6 7)! ^ treachery as cruel as it would be unprincipled" i r \\ I 380 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE : 5. — The civil power, as such, has no right to educate. From all we have said we may draw the following conclu- sions : first, that the right to educate is primarily a parental right, the exercise of which, in case of Catholic parents and Catholic children, has been placed by God under the control of the Catholic Church. Secondly, that the Church, in virtue of her divine commission to teach all nations, has a positive right to teach truth, and a negative one to resist the teaching of error, and that this double right is indefeasible and independent of all earthly power. Thirdly, as a logical consequence of the two former, that the civil power has not received the right to edu- cate ■, that education is not a civil but a domestic function ; and that, far from interfering with the educational rights of parents, the State is bound to protect them in the peaceful enjoyment of those rights. This truth was fully apprehended by the ancient Romans in the best period of Roman society. " The State pre- sumed not to pass the threshold of the Roman father with any educational code in his hand, though it did, at a later period, attempt to expel that novel system imported from captive Greece, which gradually changed the face of Roman life." * 6.— But it ought to lend material assistance to those who have the right to educate. But although the State has no right to take upon itself the office of educator, it is not therefore debarred from all share in the noble work of instructing the people. It must, however, be content to take the place of an assistant, and not that of a prin- cipal agent in this work. It is competent for it to assist the parents by providing them with help to exercise with greater oase and efficacy the charge which God has imposed upon them concerning the education of their children. It is a proof of high social perfection in a country, when the civil power fosters with genial care the growth of sound knowledge, especially such as the peculiar circumstances of time, place, and persons seem to require in the people. Elementary schools for the masses, middle soliools for the more adult, and a higher, or even the highest, 1 raining for the few who can aspire to profit by it, are precious gifts which the State can bring to aid in the enlighten- ment of a people. It is one of the natural functions of a govern- ment to promote the advancement of learning and to provide its * Professor Omsby " On the History of Boman Education," AllanHs. vol. IV., p. 2. ' TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? 381 Sif T Zl^ *^^ '^^'"''l °^ instruction. But since it is certain that the btate can interfere in education only as a helper of those naturally charged with educating the young, its first duty in a community of mixed religions is that of rigorous impartiality with regard to the various churches. Let us suppose that, in- stead of preserving this in. artiality, the State employed all its educational machinery to Protestantise the CathoHc body, oi to Catholicise the Protestant children, or to sap the religions faith of both, and It will be at once apparent how great is the inius- tice It would commit. The sole claim it has to interfere in education is thai it may help parents to educate their children according to their conscientious convictions ; and yet, instead of helping, It would, m the case supposed, do its best to hinder this result, buch a course of proceeding ca,^ be justified only on the supposition that to he^p and to hinder mean the same thine? Ihis spirit of impartiality between the various religions of the community is the animating principle of the Prussian state- educational system.* Starting from the axiom, that for the education of youth adequate provision must be made by public schools, It goes on to declare that in the management of the public schools^ the confessional (i.e. denominational) relations must be kept in view as much as possible. This principle of denominational education is fully carried out in all the details ol the system of public instruction. 7.- These principles violated by a tu-ofold form of edi'cationai moHopol// established by modern Goccrnments. _ A far different spirit, however, has obtained and still obtains in many countries of Europe. In these the Government, not satisfied to be merely an assistant in the work of educating the people has more or less openly arrogated educational functions to Itself, and has so arrogated them as to concentrate in its own hands the monopoly of instruction. This educational monopoly has presented itself under two forms. One form is that of a direct monopoly where all individuals and corporations other than those hcensed ad hoc by the State, are prohibited from dis- pensing knowledge and from teaching at all. In this form the fetate simply displaces all other influences to make room for its own. Ihe other is that of an indirect monopoly, where the Government makes it impossible for young men otherwise quail- Jied to attam to ofti js of emolument and influence, or makes it m PnZ;n!'^%u^y,^°S59'^ Archbishop Culkn on the actual stat,- of Education J382 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE; I; f difficult for tliem to reach the learned professions without first taking degrees, which can be granted only by favoured institu- tions of the State. In this form it does not directly displace o'Jier educational bodies, but enters upon a rivalry with them which it makes altogether unequal by the display of immensely powerful advantages on its own side. It is plain that this form also has all the defects of a monopoly. 8. — Three classes of motives which have kd Governments to monopolise education. Before we pass on to point out the defects of some State systems of education it is worth while to delay for a moment to consider the motives which in modern times have influenced Governments to make the work of instructing the people their own peculiar province. We shall not be guilty of the injustice of saying that these motives have been in every instance unworthy or interested. There have been statesmen, m doubt, who undertook the work of education from a sincere conviction that thereby they were consulting for the best interests of the people under their care. They were acting, according to their lights, under the influence of the traditions that had come down to them from better times. Love for the poor and zeal for their instruction were the leading features of the old Catholic society, and the long years that have elapsed since the so-called Reformation have not been able to obliterate altogether from men's hearts the blessed traces of these virtues. But their good intentions did not guarantee these estimable men from falling into mistakes of the most serious character. Apart from these philanthropic views, the springs of the modern systems of education have been either simply statecraft or the teachings of that unhappy spirit of naturalism which is the characteristic feature of the age. Modern Governments are, if possible, still more jealous than were the old-fashioned ones of any influence which could cripple their own liberty of action or interfere with their peculiar views. The gigantic power M'ielded by whoever has the control of the education of a whole nation was a prize too well calcJated to dazzle and fascinate them. They saw that, once possessed of this power, they would be enabled to remove the obstacles that stood in the way of their policy, and to lessen the difficulties of the problem which the governing of a community of mixed religions is sure to present. By its help tliey would be able to mould according to their fancy the intellects of the rising generation, and thuK to secure for their own political views assure support in no long TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? 383 conceived and carried future. This was one of the id by the first Napoleon, and it beux« tue marjc oi His bold in,1 unscrupulous genius. "^^°^ ^°^ But the true parent of false systems of education is fh« c"foWoulf"f'""r ^y-^r^i-weunSfrXndti'a cast oi thought or bias of reasoning which leads men to exclude akogether, or at least to restrict within limits as narro^as not sible, the influence of supernatural revelation uponThe practC and institutions of social life. This habit o/ mind Soe^ not ouarrel with revealed doctrines as such as long Ts ?hev rerna^ in the regions of abstract speculation. J3ut as soon as'theTaJe proclaimed to be the one immutable standard to which ajf the details of life, whether of individuals or of societies -LI k made conformable, it takes alarm at on e and Tn the mii^e o'f testr^TL;^^'"t^ i.na pnestcratt. Ihis is not the place to sketch the orio-in anrl STLr^r'T^T \ ^"""? ''''''^ *° Protestai tS Nor IS It the place to show how it has led to the secularisatinn nf politics, of science, of political economy and of the L!v.?J contract, all of which have been gradually divorced f^om tf e direct action of religion. It is enoSgh to p^oin^ou he e tl it s to IS influence we owe the attempts made almos evervwW to exclude the Catholic Church from the work of eduoa^^n or at east to admit her to a share in that work only upon teC hich, while they degrade her and the Divine Religion of wS she 18 the teacher, practically serve to counteract the slTnder nfluence she is in theory allowed to exercise in the s^b.ols It IS, we are convinced, impossible to appreciate correcHv ihl nnxed system of educati!,n without talng'^to aceoS ^e parallel process of secularisation which to-daj- is tak W nlaca m so many other matters. Let anyone take u^p the SyK^'ol 8th December, 1864, and examine the nature of the T^^ndnal c rof tt Tn T 'w" '?"f '^.'- ''' -^^ find unSy?ng fundament d .^^ ^^"^^^^ .*« ^^.^^V^e^o errors are reduced on! luKiamentul all-pervadnig principle, viz., that all supernatural actum of God and of God's Church is to be banisheSm the world of thought and of action. The secularisation ox eduSit on IS not, therefore to be judged alone. It is bu^par? of he bitter produce of a poisonous tree ; and no matter how faiMt may be made to appear when some cunning hand offeTs it for he acceptance of an unwary people, it is enough to look a the Its side to be quickly convmced that it is a gift fatal to whoso ever^will use it. The bad tree will, perforce, i^oducl S r^-f SI- 384 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE : ffiiff; i. I I 9.— Government system of education for Ireland is an unjust monopoly. But whatever may be the motives that have led Govern- ments to monopolise education, directly or indirectly, whether they are moved thereto by philanthropy, or by statecraft, or by naturahsm, one thing at least is certain, that all such monopoly IS unjust, because it is based on the unjust usurpation of parental and ecclesiastical rights. This deadly sin of its origin taints with poison the entire system of State education. We now proceed to consider jomewhat more fully the form of State education with which in our day and country we have to deal. Besides the radical injustice above described on which it is based, the system of education imposed by the State upon Ireland has two capital defects, in that it is a monopoly and in that it is mixed. ' _ That it is a monopoly, especially as far as university educa- tion IS concerned,* has been well shown in an able p-iper by Monsignore Woodlock, Rector of the Catholic University in Ireland. Of the two universities recognised by law in this country. Trinity College is undeniably and exclusively Protes- tant. " As a matter of fact, its governing body, consisting of the provost and senior fellows, are all members of the Church as by law established, and, with two exceptions, are Protestant clergymen. The other fellows and the scholars on the founda- tion are likewise Protestants ; and thus in a city where of a population of 254,000, only 58,000 are Protestants (of all de- nominations), and in a country in which only 11.8 per cent, of the inhabitants are members of the Established Church. What wonder that Catholics should consider it a hardship to "be forced, if they wish to get university education near home, to seek it in an institution from whose dignities and management they are excluded, in which an antagonistic creed is always put forward ostentatiously in a position of superiority, while the faith of their fathers, if it be not contemned and scoffed at is systematically treated with silent indifference, or with super- cilious patronage ? What wonder thai Catholics being declared by Act of Parliament ' freemen,' in every way equal to their Protestant fellow-countrymen, should be unwilling to continue begging as a favour, at the gates of such an institution, for the acadomi^al honours and distinctions to which they are entitled as a right? It is absurd that in the metropolis of a free • "University Education in Irdand," Irish EccksiasHcal Record., vol i. pp. 24-26. -. - . TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? ggg whose faith they denounce as idohtfv; i o^^ligmg even those their sons to their seCoTs ? Wn„ M ^Z ""i? «"P«^«tition, to send in any other countrr? wlu , 7"^ %'l'^f^ ^' ^"^^^^ allowed, even for one hour to molnnl''" .?^^°^' T^'"''^' ^^ tion of Protestant England ? ' "^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ university educa- So glaringly intolerable was this monopoly thnt fl,« n Lniversity was established to remedy the Tvif Butl ^^"'"^ ' the Government chose to iiroceod on tL f i • ^""^ ''^'^'^ education is a proper funct on of fl,! Qf . }^? pnnciple that of the Queen's Od eges was based n. 4 ^\'^^^^^ scheme Catholic Church, and foncJntratell? ' """'l^'^'^ ^^ ^^^ in the hands of he ci^l ruler ?i!- fl ^ ^^Pi'ecedented degree cate this Catholic naSo 1 T)L f ^"^^««« ^hot were to edu- l^ighest authoH^ on earth Ind if ooT ""'' ^-^^emned by the lies are concerned, he moiopolv of unl!"'"?' ''. ^"' ^^ ^^^*^«" rigid and comprehensivras ever '^ w'ir*^ '^"'f °'^ ^« ^' " u total of 6,360 Catholic vontT.vn V'r^a^e,' says the liector, in Ireland. Few, if any of ho p'S' r"^-^ '^P^^^°^ ^^^^^'-^tion these pupils belong loo?;?fhtS?ot\" *« ^^^^^^ ties. On the other hand none of f},,.? ^^^.^^^^^^'^g univorsi- cluded from university ed^caiol t^^^^^^^ objections; and yet bv far iho o-v^nf ^^^^^^ "* eonsciontious excluded at present.'' ^ '"'*'" ''"^^'^ ^^^ practically This would be enouo-h to nrn^-o fl^nf +i poly. But there is stilfmorr llttu'h'thT'"' /'/ "^°^°- inflicted forfeiture of all property on wE ^ ^"^^^ l^'^' ^^^^ a Catholic school have be^erased frn^ T'T/^'.^^^^^^^^ ^^ yet remain penalties to be Lcui^^Vby^^^^^^^ '^''^ conscience, cannot avail themsdves of th. ^ ^' '"'^*^'^''' ^^ Ti^ity College, and by tl^Qrent tlW^^ ^^^^^^^^ suffer for conscience' sake these disabHiftf f'l ??'''^^ m their course to a profession on p n. 7 ^^^^ "'^'^ ^^^^^y^d graduates of the favored ir-°u tion ^ ^'"'^ l^^^^^ ^^'"^^ ^^^ additional lectures Ind to pa^ 'pv to/ "^ ^'^ ""^^'^'^ *° ^t^ud proficiency in literaTul'^S , oTLTI^ SJT °' I'-t the wide stream of Government TinfrL «* ■'^^f^'^es which universities. It eannoUheSeft^^^^^ protected by such penalties as thos; is ottr tLn" ^^^^ lO.-Miucational monopoly dangemus to the State Thia monopoly is fuU of danger to the State itself, and fuU 2Q I I If bvr~f ^ 386 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE I' hi M< ' lili! I I! of evil consequences to the people who are made to sufPer it. We here consider it especially as it is developed in the colleges where the Government appoints the professors, determines either immediately or mediately the curriculum of studies, at pleasure omitting this branch and extending that, and even stooping to such minute details as to designate the authors whose works it would gladly see in the students' hands. By its means the Government gathers together a bund of professors, men of ability and learning and energy, and to their hands it seeks to commit the youthful intellects of the nation. "What security has the Government that the power which it has erected and set in motion may not be turned against itself ? No doubt, in the beginning things may go right : the educational machine will obey for a time every touch of the mac^er's hand ; but what is there to hinder revolutionary principles from being introduced by degrees into the teaching of the professors, who have full control over the minds of the pupils ? What is to prevent a State university from becoming the mother of the wildest and most insane anarchical doctrines ? Is the philosophy of the day so sound that in the hands of an unscrupulous professor it may not readily be used as a weapon to slay the faith of his scholars even in the existence of God, which faith is the basis of all moral law and moral order P Are the social theories now in vogue so free from the revolutionary taint that it would be idle to fear the spread of insubordination to authority ? Is there no danger that statesmen may lack either the time, or the vigilance, or the ability to detect these evils on their first appearance ? or that they may not find it possible to check their growth when on'^.e they begin to develop themselves ? We have had in our own times a striking proof of this danger born of university monopoly. From 1830 to 1848 the univer- sity monopoly was in full force in France. No career was open to him who was not possessed of a degree, and no degree was to be procured save in the condition of having made the course of rhetoric and of philosophy in a State college. For eighteen years the flower of the French youth was delivered up, bound hand and foot, to the teaching of the uni\rersity professors ; and the men who now write and teach and govern in France were formed in the mould and saturated with the philosopby then taught in the halls of the State colleges. The late M. Cousin during all that time was the master mind that ruled and domi- neered the university, and through the university all the schooh in France, except a few humble Catholic establishments. He forced his eclecticism upon the minds of the youth ; he com- pelled them to think as he thought, and to speak as h^ snoke, because otherwise they could never proceed to their degree. TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG P gg^ atheism which has puToT neVl?r^^-J' ?* ^" ^^^er: an before had been seen on thelarth t .1 '^^^'' *^^* ^^ver lUustrious Bishop of Orleans L^^^-' ^ ^''"^ '''^^'^' a« tte own professors, is the consort of sno^'T °^ *5" ^"^^^^^ty of fts throw of society. If France itTJ''""' ^°? "^'"^ ^* t^eover- those are who live over a slum £ -^^""^ T'^^^'^ ^""^ uneasy as Ijay bring to pass th:i.:/ZmSf}:±T' !f ^^^^ ^--t' if her Government is in daily fear ifsf f^^ • '''.^'' «°^^aJ «tate, ns hands, it is due, beyond aK doubt to I.' '"' ^' P^^^^kedfrom iJn tr^'^' 4 P--t ^e'nl^^^^^^^^^^ -^-rszty monopoly of ^>fS?^^^^^^^^ Placed high enough to disregard the advfnT^ ^''^ ^ ^^° ^^e Sta e system will save their ch'LenlromffT^'' "^-'^'^ ^y ^^^ of that system by sending them Tbro.d f P^-^^^ou^ effects Many others not so fortunfte w'u surrend- I*!. ^'''. - ^"'"*^°^- with fear and tremblino- w,-f K ^^^^^^^^er their chUdren but truth be told, withTrrSratiSXr" t^^'"' '^^ from them a sacrifice which costs ?bPT^ 5 "^T ^^'''^ demands majority of Catholic parents, who prTzftt'-'^^' ^^* '^^ ^^« appreciate their own responsibS I^Z ^ T"" ''S^ts and voice of the Church anS love tht soX o? V-^° .^^?^^ *<^ *he never, never rest under the disaWliS?^ ?^ ^^^?'^ children, will suffer for being faithful to £ con. T^'^ *^'^. ''' ^^^e to And, above all, the whole ir JuenTe of ttT!^'v^ ^^''' ^^^Y- be arrayed against the State education sf °^'' ^^^^^^ ^^ never wiU, submit to a tvrannv wS tj ®, ''^^'^^ can, and their faith, and herself o^KSJ^^^tV'^. ^-f ^^^^^^^^ afflict her, and persecute her and fS^ Tbe civil power may «ubdue her. As'^long as thfs un^L f I "' ^''' '^^^ '' ««^ ^ever she use every lavvfulleaS^h r Iwer? ''^' °'' '° ^^^^^^^^ IS It prudent for a Goverm^enrwSnlt^''"^'^ ''- ^' ^*^«e, provoke a contest which experienclte iT^-lf^ gratuitously to as there is a bishop left in the CW.^ °^''^'' ^^^ ^^ long best friends of religion, and suSS7^ ''^?^* ^^ ^^^^cli thf morality will infa4ly be arrTvP^ '""^^^^'.^^^ conscience, and a contest is to court sIoZTltjSf ' J° P-voke'such torious for a while over the CWh ifnf 7°.."""^^ ^^ ^i^" which are even more hurtf,U than iLf ' f ^?°'^ ^^^^^sses won over that power which a]nr/ctm4'' '' "^ ^-^^^*°^-^ .heir iTilers for conscience' sake " "a^TJ^ "" "^^l ""^^^ent to '-ea the a„ty of eo.3eienS„us^,^e^tr;^W„.ee™. 388 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE: framework of eociety can be kept together only by the iron hands of brute force. Nor is this monopoly less dangerous for the people. For :t is on attempt against their liberties far more aggressive and threatening than a standing army. It is an attempt to take prisoner the national intellect, and to mould it at will upon doc- trines prepared and calculated to procure support for the political views of the captors. Under the pretext of freeing education from the bars and bonds placed on it by the Church, and in the name of intellectual liberty, modern progress would make slaves even of the very souls of the young. No doctrines shall be taught save those pleasing to the civil Government ; as in the case of the National School books in Ireland, the very name of their country must never be allowed to fall under the scholar's eye ; to them the glorious memories of the past must never be mentioned ; for them the saints and sages, the priests and kings of their fathers, the heroic morals of every s'-pernatural and natural virtue that can make a people blessed and noble, must disappear from the pages of history. Wl^at slavery can bo more degrading than this ? what chains more galling ? and what can be more unjust ? Justice demands that the burdens imposed on a people should bear a proportion to the advantages to be derived by them in return. And yet, when a Government monopolises education, it compels the citizen to contribute to support a system which is directly calculated to ensLiA-e him, and to teach doctrines subversive of all he holds dear in religion. So that, besides paying his quota towards the support of a sys- tem which is hostile to his faith and principles, he is compelled to incur fresh expense to provide for his children an education conformable to his conscience and his feelings. By the common verdict of niankind, the Irish Church Establishment is a mon- strous injustice, because the Irish Catholic is compelled to sup- port the minister of a religion Avhich his conscience condemns, and in addition feels bound to contribute towards the mainten- ance of the clergy of his own Church. And, if this be an injustice, can it be just to insist that a people should pay for an education which their conscience condemns, and at the same time expend their means in providing for their children such instruction as they can approve of ? i: 11. — History of the tlieory of mixed Education. The plan which would separate secular instruction from re- ligious training is completely foreign to the idea of education as conceivable by the UathoHc Church at all periods of her his- y the iron le. For .'t essive and pt to take upon doc- he political education and in the lake slaves 8 shall be as in the ■y name of i scholar's never be and kings itural and ible, must n be morc> what can 3 imposed ges to be vernment 'ribute to lave him, 1 religion. • of a sys- :oinpelled education ! common is a mon- d to sup- andemns, mainten- lis be an ay for an the same ren such from re- iducation her his- TO WHOM DOES IT HELONG ? 339 S shdltsf bTll'arn^df ' '' '^' ^^^^^^^"^ *° ^^^ ^^^'-1^0 teaching L tt LbTec^ and'of 'l^^^^'T °* '^' ^^"^^^'^ samples^ from the earlv mtll „ i w^'°^ ^." ,^^"" &'^« history. ^' '^''^'^^''' "°^ ^^^^r periods of her ^tudieHf 'st. Sorf aid 'st'^'^f'^^f "^^^^ ^^'"^^^ *^« peculiar difficulty tL .^1 ?'*,^'^ ""^^^^ circumstances of saints adSy^iUusttrtt /'"T^^^ ^^^ '^' ^^^^ OathoHo U]o-, y ^Y • *^^ *^° leadmg features of the . Sc^. b elh on"''T/ T""'^^'. ^°^^ "* ^b^'-^l learning in is to cull outS cXct allXt T i" f''r' ? .^"^^ "^^^^- while thev shunneTS fn • •/* ^""^ ^^^«^'^^ ^^ language, nhiloso,.hV w , ^'l^i^^-erity and proneness to lie In mastered t in such fulnes. ITI "" '^7' ?' unlearned, they highest degree WhpJnl b^.^'-^nio^ teachers and doctors of their -)^vn^vhatever of nn^ f """''' l^'^ ^^'"^^ '-^^ "^'^^^^g whereby thiymlll't rLrT'^ ^'"'- *^'J '"^^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^ the synod be onilto ?,tl • f .?'"' Churches; and although church^ ■>*rfi„d th Jnl? "^P •°' *■?"■ "^''''y''" ™'"-' °' I 14-H liHIiJ 390 THE KIOHT TO K1)U( AI K W of gLi ^^ • r'^ ""T ^]^''' '^^^•l''^" to bo educated in the th^^; n '/^l"^ ^'>^" foundation of Christianitv, and let Father , provoke not your children to anger, but educ.ito them m the discipline and learning of our Lord' Let them Tfl putn fc" l'^^"^" ^'^^ ^'^y ^^"-^ in whichihe eTr 1 . pupils IS like a barren woman who hath no children, and that eTrS'^;;:aT^"^" increased, so is faith streng.l'.ed ami enr ched. and wherever i^nuranco pievails, there the xear of God IS lessened and Cliristfanity is weakened Let us, tlierefore honour the doctrine of our Lord more than our ow 1 fe and whosoever shall have neglected these things shaH be Christ' enemy, and castaway from Holy Church." ^And the canon luv' of the Syrians* prescribes as follows : - Le<- every bishoD first ^L 1 •^'' ''"^'^ ""^^ ^' to ^^^^i^'c oducalion, and let him wT^Eut iftf^f ^ '' ^' '^"'" '' ''''''' -'- '^^^-"«t th " them And if .7 r7'^h"' ^' ^'T ^'^ ^he Church support rrT' Q i^^ ^^"'^^ ^^ Poo^' l^t the Church procurator Tpport '^AnrfT.r'^^'^'/".^ ^'T '^' ^^^t^f"l to^^^rds thei support. And let the master's salary bo paid in part bv the Church and in part by the children's parents." ^ ^ It ^lu\ ^^'"^ ""fy ^"? ,""^^^^0 P^^^«^« «f ^^^rch history. It would be a superfluous labour to accumulate similar outhorl ties of recent date But we cannot refrain from insei- inn- in th L place an extract from the constitution in which Leo the Twelfth ftl^:iToc'!LT''^ ^'^ '''''"^ ^' ^^^"^^^^- - *^^' f.o "^7^'"g„^''^fore our eyes ^he lessons which Divine Wisdom teaches to all, and sets forth to those w.iking in the way of ml'?i^ri'"l i'? ^'"'?'\ '^^y "^"^th shall .meditate truth, and n y lips hall hate wickedness.' we acknowledge it to be part of teacK .' '^' J' ''"P T '^''y ^^^^«^^^^ ^^ the end tLt the ^d of f^^^o r/ ^' 1 "'T''"^ ^f ?^"«' ^"t of the human sciences and ot the liberal arts, and also the educators of youth, shall steadia.llv held and f^dfil tho same, and earnestly laW to namcT. .-u. on them.uds of their scholars. For upon this depena. as well the progress of religion as the welfare of the commonwealth . . Sixtus the Fifth learnedly and prudently observes that the knowledge of letters, the liberal educ^ation an I trammg of youth m public schools, if united with piety, confer great benefits upon the Christian commonwealth, for cities and kingdoms are then excellently administered when men of wis- dom and mteUigence hold the reins." And after quoting, as Mai, 1. cit. TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG P 391 proof that scienre should be based on religion, the saying of St Augustme m his epistle to Yolusianus, " whkt dispute? what productions of any philosophers, what kws of any I" ^an be at all compared to the two precepts on which Christ declares the whole law and the prophets to dopend : Thou shu't love the Lord thy God vvith thy whole heart, Ind with thy whole soul tK Tl^^l"^ vvhole mind, and thou shalt love thy^nelghbour as thyself ? the rontiff goes on to show that this cfose unbn with religion, far from being hurtful to the sciences, is contrariwise an advantage to their real progress. "In truth "' savs ho "7li^f most brilliant light of the 6hu'rch (August in^lesTotL^^^^^^^ banish from the schools the natural sciences, nor is be rposed to the exercises of the liberal a.ts, which 1.; himself pSsed m singular fulness ; but he rightly w [nhed to admonlh both rnasters and scholars, that all thL b^randies of learSn^^f ^hcy be good and in accordance with reason and religion, deH^ve the'r ongm from God and to God, the fountaiu and end of w'sdom are to be re e Ted. And he teaches, moreover, that wrought to despise the very obstinate contradictions of certain pseudo- philosoph.r., and of men following the prudence of thrflesh, who hmk, or would have others thinkf that the doctrine of Christ does not conduce to the advantage of the commonwealth because they wish the commonwealth to stand not so much bv the firmness of virtue as by the impunity of vice " ^ t},. n"""! fi!^'"'''™^"*' '* '' easy to form a clear not-on of rh.r.r T? ^^\^^^^ prevailed of education in the Catholic S^w- • .^^' P''*°'' "•* ^^'^ ^^"^^^ 1««^^ ^Pon the work of educating the young as a sacred duty incumbent upon themselves as guardians of the faitb, and to which they are bound to devote their personal attention. They are foes to ignorance' wh'ch they believe to be hostile to the best interests of rXiin ti5"to^mor?i'"'^r'^ T '^'^ ^r' ^^^^ *« ^'^'^ r^vfalei tiuth to men, they have also extended their fostering care over the natural truths that form at once the preamble to faith and ot ^^e natural sciences narrow or partial ; there is not a single branch of the encyclopaedia of human learning which thev would forbid or mutilate. The universities created by the Church eferin f?'^'''^'^ ""^ ¥r^" °^ '^' C^^^^l- idea of SS::? learl^. "^^ "^"^ '' ''''''''"' ^'--'^^' ^ ^^^ of 1 ^""^'i^ *¥ ""'"d ""^ *^^ Church, this lusty vigour of intel- kctual hfe, the growth of which she loves to contemplaterhas ?''l7 ^\°g ^^f ly tr.a^^?d, lest, in the very wantonness of its iZ'T'Jt f^^f^' '^ inflict damage npon 'itself, and thereby injure that high supernatural Ixfe to which it has been caUed, 'A 392 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE: 'I! ve? wll^i'^nt' ™fy^^ P"^°^^P^« ^« Christian faith. And V: I ^ ?^^ ^^"'^''^ 'P^''^« «f controlling this vigour of intel- f Vrtr\rt'"/^^'T t\"^^^ ^^P^^y is'th/inCenl Placed on .ntl ^^^^^/^^^r* ^l^^l^ with truth, and as God has Sealed f L rl T ^faUible teacher of the truths that are re- ioffolW ^r^"""^."-'"' *^'* ''-^^«°^' ''^^'^ i« fallible, should Henol 7 '' '^T*"^"' ^^^^^ contradict infaUible truth. a2J\ Tt,"'''^ ^"^''^''^ ^^ expression used by Julian the Apostate, she baptises in Christianity the cur and the toutue of those who teach and of those who are taught. TLcattolic anTsl:c:lr t^rr"^/l^^^-^^^^^ '^ ha'ppi;st unln rai h This happy union of religion and science continued to bless Europe and the world until the so-called ReforSon sou 4 while the Catbo' PI ^''f ^ '^'"^'?'" "^ '^« P^^^l^^ "^^^^ that wniie the Catholic Church has ever been the foe of science and a perpetual obstacle to its expansion, Protestantism has emLnd We would m this matter make a distinction between nrimi ti^e Protestantism and Protestantism in its later develTpS " Both stages have this in common, that they separated science from religion But they differ from one another fn this that S^l^^S^f'-'^^^^rp'f^^-^--- ^othe supposod'in - Lltionfo r ^"^,^^'?t^^«^«"^r' ^f later yeaL' sacrificed religion to the supposed interests of science. It would be hard oclTf Fail "' ^" "^^^^ ""'' P^«^^^ the more fatal o society. Far from havmg restored to the human intellect its egitimate empire Protestantism has inflicted upon it t e mo t serioiis injury and would have succeeded in ruiniu- it n-emi-- ably but for the incessant labours of the Church i^countem. ing Its pernicious influence. tuumci at t- hnsl^/f ""^^u fr' *^'^ ^y """"'^y I'rotestantism upon learning re En % ^^- ,-^^?rding to its positive teaching,! human reason, f not completely extinguished, exists only in a most degraded condition. Luther held that '' fallen man no Wer possesses even the mere natural facvlty to understand God a^nd -. ynui,.., ^01 1., cap. i, aee. Vii., i). oO, lioLeitsous trans. ' is' IJH TO WHOM DOES IT BELOXG ? 393 hi: l:!i:i: t'one Zd t% '^ ^t knowledge, to direct inasmuch as it LrdeZtL fn%-'^^*^f • ^^^^l^^ge and will, the expression)XtS*:^^^^^^^^^ fdfi^J ^o T.^ ""''''' natural man-the man as born ?f Adam " And in fhp''«■■<' « from his writhgstrDr. KCgTt ™* "" """^ ""'="'^'' blood, thifi/t%*i;v1lt:T'°'™ T'',?"y ■■"i^* ""* »"°* ""'■""l^ »« of them ;s H they werrnot^fl r/T' '"''"'■ ™<' "'<'-''^"'"? for the setting fortlT of ot,"?'^ T*!',,'' ""i" '™ indispensable now perfeotl/provod tV,,?J/ ° ™ '' ' ^""^ "" »'''*'''> '* i» *«7, destS to obscure ottr -f •"/" "" '"""'<"' "-^ "'" completely, as the;^' :alt'Xurto''do "°aV ■ "T^T '? s :U;rrei^.i° |"?d - Sair± tt'"h^ ttti!:tha!?l^BSf*F%-- tfrted^SEsS-^^^^^^^^^^ defended by John wTkliff . tj! f ^^r^'^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ aJtirdeTis:- (ah7,^?: ; " "^^^ "^™ *° ^^^ ^^-^^ This teaching soon produced its natural results. In many *ne Peccat. On,/., sec. x., p. 6!4. T^a tiejorme, son devdoppemmt interieur, etc., torn, i., p. 450. 394 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE: I! ) |j! *j: ■If <: places where the Reformation succeeded in securing a hold sciiools and academies were suppressed. "At Wittemberff." says Dr. Dollinger * "the preachers, George Mohr and Gabriel J^idymus, both zealous Lutherans, proclaimed from the pulpit tiuit the study of the sciences was not only useless, but even per- nicious, and that one could not do better than destroy academies and schools The result of this preaching was that the Wittem- berg schoolhouse svas changed into a baker's shop. The same took place m the whole of the duchy of Anspach.*- Protestant magistrates alarmed at the abandonment and the ruin of the scnools addressed a petition to the Margrave of Brandenburg, in which they say, "should this state of things continue we are likely to full into such a state of barbarism, that in a short time an ablfkw cr'^'T''' ^^''''' ^"^ ^""^ "" ^"""^ preacher and Nor were the results of the Reformation in Denmark, Nor- way, and bwoden less fatal to the interests of learning. In 1594 the senate of Copenhagen addressed a circular to the bishops of the realm to recommend measures to guard against the ruin of studies, which, It could not be denied, was imminent." "There were no longer schools in the villages," says Dr. Bollinger, " and even in the towns the lower as well as the higher schools were, throughout the whole of the sixteenth century, in a state of complete decay. In Sweden the same decadence of learning followed the introduction of the reformed religion. This is shown by two etters of Gustavus Wasa, addressed, in 1533 and lo40, to his subjects in Upsal, Westeras, and the provinces of Lpland and Suderraania : " We ourselves are convinced, and we wish to make known lo you, that the schools throughout the towns of our kingdom are in a deplorable state of decay, to such a degree that where there were formerly three hundred students there are now hardly fifty. And in a great many parishes the schools are completely deserted, from which very great iniurv must undoubtedly accrue to this kingdom. Now this state of things has come to pass chiefly because you, good people, neglect to instruct your children as you formerly used to do, and because >ou no longer Avish to assist poor scholars as you ought to do. and as your lathers and ancestors have done. And besides, we no longer have any but a very small number of subjects who devote themselves to study, and even those who would wish to do so are soon compelled to renounce their intentions through want ot means and of support from you. "J hnJ^;^^^t^^T^f Erasmus we have additional proofs of the hostility of early Protestantism to letters. "When you profess, *Loc.cit.,p.400. f Ibid., p.m. JDdllinger, p.664. m TO WHOM DOBS IT BELONG ? -" „„um uuiiB IT BELONG? 395 f does, that the philosophy of Aristoflr. fT.nf • . 'philosophical system founded on A rW%i' ''• *° ?y' ? else than the work oi^^ttZtl'^?-^^' « principles, as Luther look upon all speculative scienceln^enmrLo.' ^"^^^^'^^^ sm ; when, like Farell, you onenlv n?T n '^'^ ^'■'■'''' ^^^ » every kind of human knnulS ^ ^ '''' ^^ occasions treat devithowcan yoTexpectThS^^^^ "^ ^^" ^°d the but contempt for sSy and fr^T"'?^"' "'^^ P^^^uce aught sensual passions? W 'it n„ h ^' "^r T^" ^* ^^^^^^ ^"d bourg an'd elsewhere tllf it l^':Str'afv?^*r^'^ ?^ k'^'' Gospel to misspend time eitW T f J ^ ^Y 'P'"* ^^ ^he guages, except the HeCw or L n^.t"^^'"^ ^^' "^«^^^* I^"" of human learning'?^* ' ^ mastenng any other branch perfectly correct in his Sthv pt' ! /\^ "^^^ "«* Erasmus Heformrtionupon'lit&^^^^^^^^^ of the the ^^f^^^ t ttL^Sef ^eP"^^ ^^«^ ^ has the right to fudn-e for ].,'m.!if -f^ ?, ^^^^g^on. Everyone pide bis^-udgnS beSg^'om^^^^^^^ ^ ^- -le ternal authority. This SrinriSi ^- 'fT^^''''^ by any ex- rationalism from the very bStjP'^^i'^^ ^^^^^^^^ to^^^ds still further developed owino-Sf^^' ^"^ •'*' tendencies were ing which the iSI^V.Xa ^^a^'^T''.^ °* ^^^'g^o^« f^^l- Tfe leaders of the infidertl'lP^ Europe, on the schools oi^uv^t^^^^^ concentrated their influence upon the educatit of tL3„7tW ^ ^f r^ '\f ^^ «^^-'°S generation to their own views^ tSv S),"''^^? '^? '''^^ taking into their own hinds Sl..f^ deliberately aimed at the complete traiSng oftt lovnfn'- '^'^r "* ^-^^^-tion, from ments tLght to the^mageX^^^^^ means of a conspiracy of nhfln^n,^' .^^^^l'"^ ^^"' "« ^^^t by entrusted to tKaJe^of C?n ,1 ^ 'I ?'• ^ "^'^ °^ ^^'^^ ^^^ sopherssuccecckdT^^^^^^^^ '^t -"^o ptilo- to educate the Dauphin .mW^!f^ i ^ ST ^""^ appointed of Russia to incite D'AleirffJ ^^*^^^^'^^ the Second uundof thelm; S.ap,^^^^^^^^ *« ^^^^ ^^^^ with unabated energy tiU^o .^}ZtT ^""i ^^'f^^.^^^^d itself difPerentism have nnci nnd „ ^/ -f ^^^- ^^^Ptic'^m and in- to exclude refe;lre"dt^;t'^^ ^^-^^^f Xenr^^'' '-''''' ^-^-^-tism\- -^^^^^^^ !! 396 THK RIGHT TO EDUCATE «i ' lin t In the Nahonal Assembly at Frankfort, in 1848, the ques- tiou of education was fully discussed by th^ deputie " Se dogmatism from the school," said M. Pauer (?f Neisse). who was chairman of the committee on education -we requi^ a generation which shall not have felt the influence of tbeXrch! nor yet that of the State. . . . Away with the pretensions of he schools to direct the child; let them allow ^to go X h^^ The schoo ought not to tram the child for ..ny determined end ... It the school be subjected to any spiritual authoritv it cannot attain its object, which is purely hulnan .Hen I t IS that we must protect the young both against the influence of the Church and against any influence whatsoever of an opTnion St V^'^'^ •"*!:• -i- ■.^^' clergyman carries about^S him, m his dress, in his looks, in his countenance, a character of restraint which proves him to be unfit for the t sk of gu dLg the young to the goal of unrestrained development. . . ^ Whaf IS a teacher? Above all else he is the representative of a feel- ing emancipated from all control." M^oiaieei s.id^^'-ThVsHfl "r'^'T' ^h ^^""'r'.''^' ^'^""^y f^-^'" ^^rlin, sa (1 . Ihe b ate alone should make itself master of the whole school : were it to neglect this it would betray its most sicred interests. Were the school to become the domain of the Church then, gentleuien, we may as well pass a decree to the effect that ihrbi birghHl S'l'^ '-''' '' «^^^^— ^' '^- '^ ttfwi The resolution, in defence of which these speeches were made was carried by a majority of 316 to 74 and te Tre KCot'V'*"- '^' ''''''''''' ^«^^^'i"- ^- full prl^tice M Lugenc Rendu* gives a numerous list of schools rJ-^ulated according to he new theories. The following is n spechnen of schooTs:^ "'"' ''' ^'^^'^^^ ■"'' ^^"«^* ^« .^inf-iTese " T//e Old and the New Church." " There is a house here below, which \s .; i}^"^ ^°'"^^ glitter from afar, and tow _ " And m that house there lives a dark- pnest whispers prayers, and sings at times hundred years. And when the faithful preaches to them the word which God hath " Blesst . they whose life the devil called the house of er above the plains, robed priest. This for the last fifteen assemble the priest entrusted to him. cometh not to tor- Nord. Paris: llachette. 1855. " '^'^"''''"'" Populaire dam VAlkmagnedu ^<.^.-.i..*--ji»-'-. TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? 397 ' The world has been freed from the Church ' T,? tL . of tie -Khtmga e«. in the starry host, inThe int'' * L™^ In the beauty revealed bv the mi'ntpv'a otin • .^ 1^^ ' , dr™ of a brighir future, ii <^ulZl':^tXl^Sr:^ "And each man is the priest of his own rpliVinT. fi.. r • cl^S>nt'-* '™^""^ Adieu to thTfotSS^^t^^S From this sketch of the history of the nriTioinTo r.f ■ j educat on we are fully warranted irconcludW £ ICZt separation o religion from intellectual trainin|'is contrary to Sfl by Protestant scepl^^fsm^: fey haf ^^^^^^^^^^^ Catholic idea of education was most favourablo f^ \™}^^^ the 12, Intrinsic defects of the mixed system. To complete our investigation concerning eduoitinnnl r-;..! , It only remains for us to consider the in^rfnsic deCs n/^^^^^^ mixed system of education. Bv way of nrefacp tfl A^^ that the fundamental principle of tl syEstratth^^^^^^^ tion It g ves shall be nncLccfcd mtlc2Zctua^^^^^^^ porcer ofti.e Church, and deal with the MoM^^{^^j,'^^^^^ things, and only, or at least primarib/, the ends ofZliii i Ife/^ In face of conflicting religious 0^11^^ i tl^- 'T^ neither to the right nor to tlie iXZ^fJ^^u'^t^'J^^ calmness the even tenor of its wav havinV^«l"f\ ^^^n^ific blame for religious teachings yXteTeT^ehnifr ^f'" ^°^" be. It leaves to its scholars the whdfrf^'^'^^^^^^^^ ^^^ ignt and duty of chooi sing '' Syllabus, p. 48. ym I I 398 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE what they are to beheve; and pledges itseH that, whatever be the colour of their faith, it shall never be questioned or outraeed withm the academic haUs. It is part of its charter that it shaU not teach religion ; but it is equally part of the same charter that It shaU not interfere with the religious teaching its scholars snail have received from other sources. This being the case, it is plain that the mixed system con- tradicts Its own fundamental principle. By virtue of that prin- ciple it declares that its teaching will not assail any one Catholic truth ; and yet the very fact of its existence is a standing denial o± one of the most important doctrines the Catholic Church has set forth, namely, that education should ever be united with rchgion. The Catholic Church has distinctly condemned the doctrine that " Catholics may approve of a system of educating youth unconnected with Catholic faith and the power of the Church, and which regards the knowledge of merely natural ft'"?*' 'Zi ''''^^' ''^ ""^ ^^""^^ primarily, the ends of earthly social life. The mixed system asserts both virtually and explicitlv the proposition which the Church thus condemns, and, not satis- lied with mere assertion, recommends it to Catholics with all the r\T.* ""^ ;^t« j^fl^ence. It cannot, then, honestly recommend itselt to a Catholic nation, prcciself/ because it docs not interfere with the Catholic religion. Next such a system tends by degrees to banish from society the spirit of Christianity.t In treating of the encyclopedia of human knowledge, the mixed system must follow one of two courses : cither it must ignore Christianity altogether, or, taking cogmsanceof the Christian dispensation as a fact, it must ignore all distinction between its various forms, declining to notice th^^ ditterences which divide the Christian body. The first of these two methods is the straight road to paganism, ar it requires no elaborate propf to show that a system which deliberately Ignores Christianity must tend to banish from society the Chris- tum spirit. But although, logically speaking, the mixed system does Ignore Christianity (for even Jews and Socinians may be among the pupils), it does not profess to be other than Chris- tian, lather. It professes to ignore the differences which have separated Christians from the Catholic Church, and have split them, when thus separated, into numerous sects. Its professors * Syllabus, p. 48. t "Hoc enim modo humana societas vero illo Christiano spiritu sensim nri- yatur, qui unus potest et publici ordinis. tranquillitatisque fLdamentaTtrb - liter servare, ac verum utilemque civilitatis progressum ifficere ac moderari et ea omnia homnibus prpbere subsidia, quie' adN.ltimum suum prsrmortales SZ^nr,? ' '*"*'5^ ^P- '" ?ri^«»d«,n, scilicet ad eternam ^alC XSn dam suut neecssana.' — Pius IX., Quiim non nine viaxima, 14 July, 1804! " TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG? 399 say to their Catholic scholars : we will not assaU Catholic truth and you for your part, shall not say a word against what vou believe to be erroneous ; you are not to refute aSy o our errors nor are you to defend any of the truths we have refected ThS method leads straight to indifferentism, and wSs faith Jr^r^ v'V^' *'^^^' ""^'^ '' «^^' ^« degradedTo the ovel of error which is various and many-sided. To accord the same privileges to the honest man and to the thief would be to destrZ the public sense of probity in the community. To place before the young vice on an equality with virtue would be to blunt their moral sense and beat down the barriers that restrdn their waywardness. And, must it not lead to indifferentLm to place f .IW^" *^^ y°^«g tr^th and falsehood on the same Wei ? To iff ni'^^f .^''' '' ! '"^^^^?^ ^^^^^ ^« ^^^> ^°d yet that it does not afiect the great questions that occupy the niind of man anv rd'dnruiie^^^^^^^ f' the othe?^religions from Xhl IS aistinguislied f that, as far as their own inteUects are con- cerned, they need not be influenced by their religious belief L any appreciable degree? Nothing but the mo'st cynfcal i^^ difPerentism can result from such even-handed dealinTbe^ween truth and error. The Catholic student will thus be taliSuS errorhas rights as strong as those of the truth, Ld that the doctrines of he Church are but one set of opinions amonff manv others equally deserving of consideration^ He wTll s^ee the bv ft P^T^T'T ^^l^Py *^? P'^lpit which has just been vaca ed by the Protestant or by the infidel, and all the sharp lines that disinguish truth from error will gradually be eSced Thi waU be the result in the hypothesis thatf in rea% no bt relfgion. "'^" "' ^" ^^"^"^^ °* '' '' ^^^^^^ 4 one But we are of opinion that this impartiality, however attrac tive m the abstract, will be fomid to be impossible in the con Crete. History jurisprudence, philosophy cannot be omitted from a course of studies ; and if "they be omitted, and the pure sciences only be taught, the very idea of the s/udhmgenZk IS destroyed. But if they be retained-and at least philosophy sThilT TV?T?^' '^¥ ^' ^^t^i^ed-it is absolute^ impol sible to treat of them without setting forth definite views f o? or agamstCathohc doctrine. And he?e we would draw rttention o the important fact that as almost every bran W human science has its side upon which it touches religion, so air'n almost every branch of human science the Chu?ch has erected certain landmarks which are to guide the Catholic who devotes himself to Its study. This being the case, the entir. queltion ot mixed education is thus placed within a nutsheU. If, in i « At- tt 400 THE RIGHT TO EDUCATE; lit m i[ the Catho ic definitions thereupon, then the mixed system be- comes Cathohc, and the difficulty is at an end. If on the other hand such definitions be neglected or set aside, then it is a mockery to say that the Catholic student may safely entrust himself to a system which, while it professes Aot to assail his religious belief, does notvvithstanding, deliberately upset its teaching. Now, it will perhaps surprise some to find how deep and far-reaching are the definitions published by the Church in matters many of which at the first blush appear to belong to the purely natural region of thought. Thus, in philosophical matters John the Twenty-first, through Bi.hop Stephenf pro- nounced judgment upon the philosophical method en:pWd at Pans by Bontus, the Averroist, and condemned his evrovl con- cerning philosophers and philosophy, namely, concerning its object, truth authority, sources, foundations, its relation to theology and Its position with regard to faith.* Ajrain con- cernmg the origin of the world, John the Twenty-second asserted Its creation m time f Concerning man himself, Hadrian the First,J and Leo the Tenth,§ set forth his composite nature re! suiting from the union of soul and body, the perfections of either part, the relations of the soul to the body, and its com- meice with the same. In the logical order, Clement the Sixth asserted against Nicholas de Ultricuria, that the human inteUect was able to acqmre certain knowledge of things either through natural appearances as by the external senses, or by deduction from other things ;_ he declared, moreover, the nature and cha- racter of certitude. Its object, its principles, and in an especial manner the certitude of the natural order of cause and effect J;' v-'i'Ir ^V ^'^■^' ^1""^?'^ *^^ Thirteenth, and Urban the Eighth II condemning the heresy of Baius, asserted the existence of the natural moral law; the morality of acts done m accordance with It; the distinction of both these from the supernatural order ; and the very foundation and condition of Tenth, Alexander the Seventh, Clement the Eleventh, defended against the Eeformers and the Jansenists, the existence of free-' will, the qualities of which they carefully explain -d 1[ Urban the Fifth asserted the right of property** against Soulechat, * Denzinger Enchirid. Symbol, Ed. .3, No. 390, son. t Propp. 1 2, damnat. 1329, ap. Denzinger. ^ ^ X Concil. Rom. an. 794, ap. Denzinger. § In Bulla '< Apostol. Regi.nmis." II Propp. 22, 25, 34, 36, 37, 38, 46, 50. 1l Ap. Denzinger. ••Denzing., p. 1, 30. CENTEKAPV OF SS. PETER AND PAUL. 401 restitution, saLfSon^mll^J^^i "'" u'^ '^ compensatioa,* of oaths, of trSfc power it^r' '^^f^^^^ityof judge's, Fiftht proclaimed the auSitv o f """'^^ f ^'^' Martin the Tenth, the right and just^e o Vo. ^T^'^'^K'''^'' ' ^^« ^^^ the legislative pow?rorthoo;wL 1 ' ^i^^^^^^er the Seventh, that there are tCaJs of ^.tho l di''/ ' ^T f ^ '^'' ^* ^^«^ts interwoven with the seveml sc ent. ^t '^'''^y "^^ ^^"°"«ly material of human thoulhf nml 1 ?. ^Z ^° *^ ^^^e up the teaching is to treaVSi^:^ ^, Itsh ° "^^ t ^' *^^^^ may not be scientiHc, but wh crdocido^^^^^^^ ^^\'^ '^''^^ °^ mended to Catholics as Derfeoflv nn • ? /^ ■''i^''''^ ^^ ^'^com- belief, and in no way i^n t l^^^sf ^^ '"''^ ^^^-. religious gations. • "mning against their conscientious obii- therhlt'adVrcerili'tr'^^^^ '^^' "° ^^*^- ^-^-^ -ay bo the students are s H , Vwf'V^' matters by their profesLs, f- tbe with diffiSence ; we wiuTot wl^^^^^^^^^ f' '?^^ ^^^^^ description of this great feast wSllK^.**' ^'^^ ^ ^^ some o'f the leading LTul^^^bTrllVsS^^^^^^^ It for ever to the hearts of the Catholic worfd ' """'^ •Innocent the Eleventh, Prop. 37. tProp.SOHnss. '¥ i 11* 402 SOME EVENTS OF THE It was townrds the close of December, 1866, that a circular was addressed from Rome to the bishops of the whole Church acquaintmg them with the desire of his Holiness that the ap-' proachmg eighteenth centenary commemoration of the triumph ot the Princes of the Apostles should bo celebrated with special pomp and solemnity. This was the third time that, during the present pontificate the voice of Peter had gone forth inviting- the pastors of the fold to assemble around his throne. In 1854 it was to offer a peerless wreath of earthly glory to the holy Mother of God ; in 1862. it was to add new names to the lists ot our triumphant brethren, as our intercessors in the heavenly court; and now, in 1867, it was to pay a special tribute of devotedness and reverence to the first Vicar of Christ Viewed in the light of human policy, this circular of the Holy Father was little less than folly. It was in that very month of December that the last of the French troops should take their departure from the Eternal City. The enemies of Kome, the revolutionists and anarchists of the whole world were clapping their hands with joy that the moment of their triumph had come The Papal Government had no longer forei-n bayonets for its support, and it should now soon feel the venge- ance of its oppressed subjects. Indeed for years the Protestant and infidel press of Europe had sought to decry the government o± the Holy See, and to describe the temporal power of Pope 1 lus the Ninth as resting on a volcano, which, as soo^. as the J^rench troops were withdrawn, would burst forth in all its violence. Nevertheless, these troops were withdrawn, and still Kome continued tranquil ; nay, more, its peace and tranquillity and the harmony of its citizens went on increasing every day • and, despite the efforts of all the secret organisations and open enemies who left no means untried to accomplish its overthrow the temporal sceptre of Pope Pius was found to rule over faith- ful subjects, and to hold the love and affection of his people I he bishops of the Catholic universe heeded not the human dictates which the circumstances of the times would seem to suggest, but listened ^, ith joy to the words of the Vicar of Christ His circular contained no command, no summons to assist at the approachmg festival ; still its simple invitation found an echo in the hearts of all the faithful, and the bishops of the Church from north to south, and from east to west, were seen preparing for their pilgrimage to the shrines of Eome. And to 'many of the aged pastors of Christ's fold how insuperable should be the difficulties which this journey would involve ! Yet faith and affection for the Holy See sufficed to overcome every difficulty From the remotest points of the earth's wide ran^e venerable men were seen converging to the tombs of the i:postles, and CENTENARY OF 8S. PETER AND PAUL. 403 to Rome to o7er at L foof If f^t'^ homage of the Catholic tit^^^^^^^^^ '^' ^'^^'^^ ^^^«"° *^« ^^itef parat;'r^;^oriLt5i Teld^'ufas^tt^ f 'Ti'""^ ?- arrived. It was only on mTonfl f t ^^\ ^T ^''^°P« ^^d Christi.that thrcitierofR! /"''"' i^,?^'^«<^°* ^lorpus imposing would be ttrlrl^^^^^^ *« realise ?ow centenary of their great mtron«T?. ^ episcopate on the Sacrament on CorpS ChSi dav in^r''"'""T °* the Blessed most glorious ~\c:in\t:Syl^^^^^^ *^« the presence of three hundrp^l k;=t,7 wonaers . but this year hundreds of their cler^v n/d S fl Z ^H ^^' ^^* ^^^^ flocks. The Church of^VSpn. ^^"f '-^"^^ «* their faithful wepingoverrh^Tadrlt's^f^^^^^^^^^^ - ^f^X bishops to this spiritual fea^t oJI "iscord, sent twenty-three Sun Francisco, hS iourn^^^^^^^^^ '}' Archbishop of of his loyalty to Christ's V^W A ' ""'^^^ *? ^^^ *^^« *"^^te colonies und^took a stiTl?n;„'P'''''°*1^^" °^ the British our sister island, also serf their bishom • A^=f • .? "f ^'i""^ maligned and misrepresented by the hirX^ writer of^^^^^^^^^^ '° surpassed every other GovernmenMn Ti^- •? T ^* ^f^^^y, allowed to incur any exptl^l^^i*; r/^^^^r/^.tril-'^ n Ij^ hi :'i i 1 404 SOME EVENTS OF THE anclrm. Jf the Arnieniuu rite alone there wore eitrhteen bishn 7, pastors: and some of those hud arduous jour .eys tLerflr^ before they urrned at i^^^^^o^oS^^^J^^ rnteh of any of our modern travelling faeilitesxTe Greek Church, slowly awakening from its dreaVy letWv and £ IJoumeuian, :Melo]iito, and Sluvonio r;fp« T,.,i i ??'• "® was at once taken, and on tlio 2ard of the Ze mon hTl °" my pdgrimage, accompanied by the pSve ^4?™^,^''^''^ all my confreres and of all my flock m, tV.T ^ H°f to excite the wannest cmotfons t my bS wa" fhe" /"" flocked around the vessel to salute me ^nrl t.^ ! faithful own reverence and detoledness bt? tl,ev? ^ ■■^presented their ftennswerving loyalty andtitntf tlrr^^^^^^^^^ flocks, clergy ol.ke and laity, to the sacred centre of^ftyl^^ itoned, and 1 alternate i from the and Alex- en bishops, Maronito, y of their perform, ■ guarding licdouins, me within Che Greek , and the eir repre- ilates, the centre of ae of her ils of the He has d we will : China," pontifical •esolution 1 I began ipathy of I not fail he eager iv'here we J*oint-de- faithful coTivey jverence, ad these sroached lis groat cuiMing ted their oreover, cattered lity and his holy lin, the Meath, in, and )st Rev, CENTENARY OF S9. PETER AND PAUL. 405 Dr. Whelan and the Most Rev. Dr Bradv AnA v.f i\ rto» see. are i„ the Vn^^t S aL"?"""^ °' *° "^"^ nf ;,"''"'""'«*■■«*"'•■> to our narrative o£ events. The 2l8t those who wi bed to renSnnt, t "nJ r,,"? "'""•^'^ ''^ worthy a succMsor ;„ tkrl • r tI . ■ ^"F *""■'"» 8™nled so "n that day XTe™t on rf^t'L •l''?"' '" *''?'" P*:"'""' «»<=«• the church wherelhere^iV, 5 I T"',""'!:" «'"'''"' •!""" to enshrined. How beantfful i, thl T''" ^T u ^'°y'™' •"" ,.1, -^1 /'^^'^ o* June witnessed another glorious feast TT,» btcletLnb^ut I ?t ?.'«'■ -T Tk'^S ^^^'^^ ^*" *^^ colossal baths of t em of D^ooWr' ^^ consecrated to the service of God In beL put t?de t^foAf Tvi^^ -^ forty-thousand Christians had Queen ''^'"'"'*^' ^^^^ the invocation of the martyrs^ the^eath?dt^i 'T^""""^ n^ ^^^ '^°^^"' '' ^ J^^^^^ ^^^l^^^y ; and puts forth an i?! T ^''"'"'"^ ^^^/^«^a>-»m il/./.. et Caput, tsure 4d ttS' T' r^'^*' ,"P^^ ^^^ ^1*^^« ^11 it« waived n -^wf ' n -^^ ^'^® ^^« portals to receive within its vast The 25^A^i:-™^?'^*'^^' and faithful from evlry eLe Ihe 2oth his Holmess wished to admit x, special audience had^flnt'Z^'/r^^".'^"^ '^' devotedness of theFrThtf pa Z ' Xpo ed t uldle^^^^ ""'''■ ?^ ^^^1 «^ Consisco;^s.Twas supnosed, would be large enough to contain all who had come to Rome, and yet in little more than hnlf n. hon^ '■o 0-"-?- s:L':tlTi:::f *V'1 ^^^^: «teps o?" tHrthrone,thartlt sands Had to be refused admission. The address made on this 11 406 SOME EVENTS OF THK Mf' ^^- occasion by bis Hohness was, indeed, tbe exbortation of a fatber to loved and cberisbed sons : it expressed tbe consolation wbicb rolf^'Tf '^ ^° '''''' ^'^S P^^««^t ^t this family feaT it coj^tamed, too, sweet words of spiritual exbortation, and /ranted Z2 tTl' "?.^ ^^'''^^' ^^^ '^'^ ''^Veotiv: flocks No sooner bad tbe address ended tban tbe " SaLm fac PmtificZ et Begem Ftum"hnvst fortb from tbe crowded ball ; cbanted bv twelve tbousand well-trained voices it produced a woSderf.X effect, and seldom did tbe vaults of St. Peter's re-ecbo an antbp , of more heartfelt feeling and filial affection ^'^^^tbem On tbe 26tb all tbe bisbops were invited to assemble in the Sistme and tbe Holy Fatber, filled witb emotion delivered to tbem the a ocution to which tbe whole world was lookLTfor? rvrctofrr r-^^^^^^^ Sublime were tbe inspSns of tne Vicar of Christ m this discourse, sublime the picture of tbp X^d'L'w d\%"\"' i" f""' ^^^^".'^^ Christ's' CWh dt played. How all tbe heretical communions of tbe world dwindle J^napel ! A leading Protestant organ a few days affo did not hesitate to write: "The Christian world bas^outgrown To borders of Europe, and the churches of to-day make up a soc^etv Which no single bead on earth could correct or conloL'' S; 1^ Disiiops Of the ^6th of June whether unity is impossible in a gS r„t""T""^*^^y"^F*^"y°^^^^ tb'eCburTo? God IS necessarily one from pole to pole; that communions fn?d /pJ'- V'i""^!*^^ ^y *^^^^^«"^1 l^^its cannot be Te true fold of Christ ; that tbe light of faith is one, wlietber in Africa centr' "' ^^rT'- '^ ^"^"P^' ^^^ *^^* «^« i« l^ere beW ts +lfof -f ^ •! V-x ^^ '-^^^emies of the Papacy liad long declared that ^ts vitality was extinct, and that its'^influence belS to Ws which had passed away. Yet in that solemn assfmbly the Popedom stands before us in the full freshness of its vigour and fri mnhs n^^' "'" ^''' ^'''^^"^' ^^"^^^« ^'' sorrows%nd its triumphs, and announces an approaching Earmenkal Council the mere name of which awakens a thrill of joy throu-^liou the universe. Even tbe very assailants of Rome on tbL'occas on were forced to pronounce witb unwilling lips its eu W and ne?gf ofte Vi;^?7/° the undying Tife'and sVeSurd of Knee wHte" ^''"'- '' " '''" *^^* *^^ '^^^'' ^^^'^^^ CENTENARY OF SS. PETER AND PAUL. 407 along his path . From Rome we hear a voice solemn and resolute «. v«;p« «,!,«.- f^t-a^-prrshaif^j^^^^^^^^^^^ On the morning of the 27th the everyday recurring festive '^}ZTa7 'T^^' 't\ «^«Pended whilst the Irish bishops gathered together m St. Agatha's to offer their prayers for one of the brightest ornaments of our Church that had been sum- moned to his reward. The Bishop of Ardagh had intended to be m Rome for this great festival, but Providence had otherwise decreed ; and as soon as the sad news of his demise reached his brother prelates they resolved to offer to his memory a solemn tribute of their esteem and love. At an early hour on the 27th a pontifical High Mass ^yas offered up for his repose, and all catafaiue ^^ ^^' ^^"^ '"^ ^^^'"^ ''°^^' '''''''^^ *^® mournful A few hours later a long line of carriages was seen moving towards the Vatican, bearing our own many bishops and priests to a special audience with his Holiness. This was the occasion on which the offering of the Peter's Pence were presented from most of our dioceses. Pio Nono had for each one a few words of affection and emotion, and many of these venerable prelates burst into tears as they kissed the hand of the Vicar of . 9"^^^^ ^^^\ ^}^ firs* vespers were solemnly chanted, usher- ^1^-/^ if ^r- *^^*^^^ of the following day. In the evening, whilst the horizon still retained the gorgeous colours of an Italian sunset, the colonnade and cupola of St. Peter's seemed transformed into one mass of light, dazzling with its magic splendour, and bringmg out in all its grandeur and proportions that noblest monument of human genius; and thousands there . . . . " But, thou Of temples old and altars new Standest alone, with nothing like to thee" . . , The crowds who filled th^ Rtrects and elevated quarters did not conceal their admiration as witnessing this grand spectacle of which many of them had so often dreamt far away beyond If 1 r n 408 SOME EVENTS OF THE m multitudes from FrascatiTnd tL ""/' *^^^« ^^^^^ humbler within a range of fiftTmnp^ 1 ' r*^/^""^' "^^^ «^ ^^^ge towns, who slept aroun? he noSVw' ^''•''?.'"" ^°^^ ^^'^^^ postattheeaXsthou^^nZtlW^tSlf *° ^^^^^^ *^- hasiatnXat;?Sl,t mti^^^'^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ J-e Church. The eyes of three hi f T V^' ^''^^'y «* ^^^ throughout the universe are thi. ^ f"^ "^'^^'T ^^ ^^^^olics feast of the ehief Sns of this 7f ""Tn *." ^°"^^- ^^ ^^ ^he the great jubilee STthe t^^LAt^^^^ \ ^ ^T' '' ^' a feast con-.mon alike to all ihnJ^, ^ ?''? ^'^^^ ^f Christ, fold; andasif itdrnotslee^K^^^^^^ \^'^^^ of God's thus exult in all its members ttpf *^,^^^^rct militant should have its share in thr.lat fesHv^^'"^ triumphant, too, should to its saints, newheroef of fuith In^' ^""^fT "'"^^'^^ «^^ ^^^^ed ^ell, indeed, did t^ elero-v of T7^ *^f ^""°"^« ^^ ^^^ «ltar. sion by the Oratorian: Sher Caswii r'^^'"^ ^"^ *^^°^^^- " ^^^'^^ '° eternity's all-beauteous beam »v e come the golden day which heralda in The apostolic chiefs, whose glory fills all time I Sent to their thrones on hi^h;triiS eternal prize • ^te^rs-J^-^-JArbloo. Sn all thTft' ''-' '""^^ '^-"^iful •liian all that doth appear most beautiful below." offer^nptthe'Ltlndlltt TT ^^ ^^^^ -orifice wa. been granted by the Sd^'J^f V,V ^T!' ^"' Permission had Mass might beJin Alreadv I ' ^^f' ^'^'' '''^°'^^ "•^'• street was mied with a busvLl ''''/" the morning, every through the immense PiS '«):•• ""^ '''^''.' ''^^"" '^^''^ P^^'^^d cloudless heavens prefenS\r^^^^ The «ky. The ZouavesCd otW t^ "^^^f '^ """^^ «* ^^^ Italian stationed at inte^als and 1?^^^/ "' ?'^]' ^"^" ""^^^^^^ ^^re festive tunes. The 'windows of ^ ^'^ ^T^' contributed their festoons and banners indw;f? uTJ- ^T^ '^°^« ^^eir gay the nobility and dSnitaTie^ ^flL^l^ht^ t^^^^^^^^T^V^ ^-g.ng from many a balcony, the PapTf bt^Ctinl^t^ hi ?«: CENTENARY OF SS. PETER AND PAUL. 40^ the Ponte S. Angelo, the curious costumes of the peasantry ih^ Taned attire of foreigners from every country uS?Kn the smile that beamed on every countenanc J, presented such suriar' '""' " '"'" '^' ^^'^^^'^ imagin^tL could not hearts'" o? ZT T'^Tll^ the church of St. Peter's that the hearts oi the hundred thousand pilgrims beat with delight as a new scene of majestic grandeur and unrivalled splendour was opened to their gaze. The beauty, the sumptuousness the m- posmg appearance of the interior of St. Peter's on that Z tu?e of fhl TT' ^f ^^^Pf^ding harmoniously with the architec- ture of the Church and forty thousand wax lights arranged in rlT^f p''"r* ^''t''' ^^«^i«^d to the minddl that wf have read of Paradise. " The taste displayed in the decoration - ZpTe tr thTt^ f ^' "^^^"^^ ' ^^ niuchtotTure a" d simple than that which was shown in 1862, at the last ero-.t andThifr. ^^'. '^''' Has been made to give effect of col .r and this has been done so as to bring out in bolder relief tlie architectural ornaments. The general effect was rich and gorgeous in the extreme. Richer still it became when abo u seven o clock, tho serritori began to light the great wax tapers which hung suspended in festoons between the archelunder^t} e colossal statues Twenty-five thousand tapers were thus soon made to shed their light upon the building, giving to the crimson tapestry a deeper hue, now that all daylifh^t had been exclXl puff of wind blew aside a curtain, and then down streamed on seeTd Hkh' Ti^ ^nJ'lT-'" ^''^^'. ^'^'^^ unexpected that it seemed like a flash of lightning, startling those around as if danger were near Grander, however, tha^n all else in the way Jri T.^ "" ^''^''^^^^ mverted cross formed of prisms of class which had been sought for far and wide. Abo^ve it were the mTfl-S^"""!, •? '\ their proportion, and formed of the same rnaterial, while above them still was suspended an enormous hi ?n i^ "'I ^^T 1 ^^'^"^^"^' ^^ ^'^ these brilliant sym- bo Is m the centre of the nave, and flashing and glittering beautffuL'' ' '' ^ ' *^' '^''^'''^^ ^""^ indescribablf Such is the church of St. Peter's that no number of indivi- duals assembled there seems possible to make a crowd. Sixty thousand persons can move about with ease in it, and yet on Issembir^'' '* '"'""'^ """^ "" ''^'^ *°° ^^'^^ ^^' *^^ ^"^'^^^^^ tbni«;?!^^r?^'' f"" i''^°'J ^^^ procession began to move from the Sistine Chapel. Two hours it took to pass along the Scala 410 SOME EVENTS OF THE S^'Pete'8 "'mf ''!''.'=»'»™'^eof Bemim, to tie portals of carried CsJaLfr.TZll'^'''^^ ^^ '"^'" Oestatona, v^ere It was precisely nine when the Pope entered fhp rh..r.n^. have ruAed to hi, mtod™f he rfflecteronTh? d^^^^'' r '' sponsibilities of the successor of the Firman ^foalZ J'; how many emotions must have moved his h«rt»: P"''''''''/"'' now oeleh^ated i Bt^;:hrshari Z^ SXTm'S t? portals of rs of the took part Idacchino, ona, were the lives )ment the unable to ming and fc time in >pe whilst Jcasion it im of the led tears, '^ith emo- Pius the 3ed along d placid passing Church, lim two- ich were tSj with ;th gold, ir chap- it along. ' mitres, throne, ne: tb« y were ily pre- as usual es it is } along motion, several s must nd re- ee, and ized on IJhurch hed to IS were y they 18 that CENTENARY OF SS. PETER AND PAUL. 411 filled the souls of those who gazed on him as he stood entranced, of those who had travelled so far in obedience to the voice of Pms, and were ready to sacrifice their lives in devotedness to him as head of the Church and Vicar of Christ? How many ot them will have echoed in their heart the sentiments so beau- tilully expressed by an iUustrious pilgrim when he exclaimed: nipp'l nf tff ri*^ successor of Peter, the head of the Catholic body, the mouth- piece of the Church, ever living, ever conveying its teachings to the universe- bvX hani f-*h and of.Christian unity ; the tource of liglft and truth created bythe hand of God to illumine the world; this infirm old man, this feeble priest. ,s the immovable basis of a divine edifice, against which the powS of Cod Clf f ^ '^% ??. l^ ''"'"• \\^ «°™er.8tone on which stands the city o God here below. Behold the earthly head around which are grouped so manv glorous memories of the past, the hopes of the present, nay, tie vfry blesSs marked out m the counsels of Eternal Wisdom for the utur^ of oSlIen racf Prince of priests, father of fathers, heir of the Apostles : greater than Abrahan in p-.tnarchal power, than Melchisedech in priesthood, thin Moses in authoriW ^^T't '" J"'-f''i«"°'^= "' ^.^vord, pastor of the pastors, leader oTthe leaders of the spiritual army, cardinal point of all the churches, key of the arch ot Catholic unity, impregnable citadel of the children of God !" The ceremony of canonisation proceeded as usual. Before pronouncing the solemn decree, the Holy Father twice invited the bishops and the faithful to unite with him in prayer to obtain the light and guidance of heaven. The first time, the Litany of the Saints was chanted by two Papal choristers the vast multitude in the church responding as with the voice of many waters. The second time, the Veni Creator Spiritus was intoned by his Holiness ; and when at length the decree was published, the silver trumpets announced the glad tidings, the cannon roared from St. Angelo's, and for an hour all the bells ot the churches and religious houses of Rome conveyed with their joyous peals the happy announcement to the faithful. The Pope now intoned the Te Deim, and, oh ! how grandly it rose and died away as it was sung by the choir, and was then e- sponded to in alternate strophes by the thousands upon thousands ot voices throughout the vast edifice ! None who were present can ever forget the solemn chant of that glorious hymn : it seemed, as it swelled through the mighty dome of St. Peter's, as it the voice of every people and every tongue had united to bless the Lord in unison with his earthly Vicar. XT- "f^^^^^ ^^ *^® ceremony of can ^nisation had been concluded High Mass was celebrated, the Holy Father himself being cele- brant. After the Gospel, notwithstanding the fatigue of the prc'ceding ceremonies, he addressed a homily to the assembled bishops, beautiful and happy in iis sentiments, as ever are the words of Pio Nono. During the offertory the usual symbolical gifts were made to his Holiness by the promoters of each cause ii-i; ■ 't = i 412 SOiME EVENTS OF THE r \%l h III formed to give eSeTtoihi.n^ . Three distinct choirs were its full numbers was dLcted bv ^?' /'f ^^' ^^P^^ ''^'^'' "^ posed of four hundred voiop. J f''^^ '• ^ '"'""^ ^^^^^^ com- whilst a third Sr with fbronl J^'fl. ''^ *^^ ^^P^^^ ^bove ; took its voltzrit'eMor^^^^^^^ entrance. " Such dpliVmi,a !! • .. church, over the central dent, "surelv was ne oThl 1"''''.;,''']'? '^^ ^''''' correspon- series of ecLis through Z' '%'\' ^f\^'^ ^°"^'^ ^^^'^^ ^^ a earth in a full bodv of J !i "If* ^"^^^^"^' ^^^^ ^''^^S from power, though not\ d S / '^''' ^'."^"''^"^ diminishing in Lth ^^^o^^t.;^^^^^ breaking from the cupola Kb/tho J"-^:«"« ^^^^ ; and it was echoed nnited in oSe Irand burst of 7' '"^'^^ -^" ^^''^^ ^ben whole Church, anTheaven itself^'^'7' "' '^ ^'^"^^' ^^^ ^^^^ the exalted dignity SrovS *« P^^^^^^n At the concluirnywori , ' r / 1' ?'V"'' ""^ *^" ^P^^*^^^- liarly strikinr^irwas C ^^J'^l'^S^^- ^^^^* ^^^ pecu- pronounced these worT not . f^ ""K}"]^ ^^^^^ who first tident in its unfrilfng effect ^ ^^ "^ ^^' ''''*^^^^ «°^- andy'L'^nfof r?S^^^ !^? f" two o'clock, p.m., feasting the.JdeUtn'af vespers that great festivil A f P^f !, ^^"ne, and closing with on the Pincian H 1 t r etee^.^'f^ • *^' ^'7,!'* "^* ^^'^^^^^k^''' the enjoyment oiiivZr\l\T''^'''^^^^^^ astonisUent the crowds tt had ^^^ .^^^^^^^ a^d bounds of the earth gathered from the uttermost chur'croft.SttS^^^^^^^^^^^ ---d at the richest of Christendom in iAnTK?' ^^i' ?^"'''^' '« ^^^ ^f the up to^lay by counS cb r^^ '^''^ T^ deoorntions; and lit arranged about is rave^ni"'' ""1^ ^^--^^-bghts beautifully and splendour of the sce;etn'?h'r^^ '""T"' '^^ ^^'^^l^a^^V new feature of the decorations nl^fT-'^t. -^'"^ ^"^^^^ «°°^e wondrous beauty were onZrl P/'^.f^ed^ itself, and new vistas of and many of the SonTn^!- . I .' ^'^^^ ^^" ^^^^ ^^^^her music arfd cereLSTaTl'^ 1-^' solemn Mass f and its details, contribuSd to make t^'^^ ^'°^ '^"^*° *^^ ™^"""^est worth; rival of^'he ^TXhl^^T^'"''^ '' ^'' ^^^ ^ On the ist of Ju&the biaop^agfl^;:^-^ at theSistine CENTENARY OF SS. PETER AND PAUL. 413 Chapel to present their reply to the address which was made to the Church of Christ. We need not repeat it, for it is well known to our readers._ The bishops congratulate his Holiness on the happy celebration of the centenary feast at which they Md assisted; they declare their union with nim as Vicar of Christ and successor of St. Peter; they share his joy in the triumph of the Church in so many countries; and they at the same time divide his afflictions and sorrows at the trials to wHichit is elsewhere exposed ; in his teaching they recognise the voice of Him whose office it was to conjinn Jul brethren ; and they look forward with joy to the future oecumenical council, that It may check the indift'erentism of the age, and draw closer the bonds of unity m discipline as well as faith, thus to combat with more energy against the enemies of God. And n.>\v we may chrunicle a few of those ideas which Llie events of this great centenary have awakened in reflecting 1. Never did the pastors of the Church assemble around tUeir ilead more free from the cumbrous trammellino-s of State control, and more independent in the exercise of their sacred ministry. The lesson of preceding centuries had been repeated m our own times, reminding the pastors of the fold how secular princes too often, whilst assuming to protect, only seek to undermine and bind captive the Church of God ; and hence it was that, conscious that the true liberty of their sacred ministry was guaranteed by listening to the voice of Peter and by fol- lowing the guidance of him on whom the Church is built, the bishops of the universe corresponded with ardour to the invitation of Pius, and hastened to offer to him such a testi- ^'f^I ^L^^^^} ^°"^^^e as was never surpassed in the annals ot the Church, and fiUed with terror the enemies of our holy laith. •' 2. Wt ilst the centenary was celebrated in Eome, another great festive holiday was kept in Paris : thus the Exhibition 1 alace and St. Peter's— the Church and the world— were placed in contrast ; each presented its distinctive features and attracted the gaze and attention of the universe. Paris as well as Rome awarded its laurel crowns : in the one, the efforts of human genius were eulogised, and earthly progress merited the prize • in the other, the practice of virtue was commended, and the heroism of sanctity was proposed as a model for imitation ; in the one. the human nr partliW nrrlov nl^no Timo a^.^ j ii. ^ tne one, the human or earthly order alone was deemed worthy her, the supernatural or spiritual order ruled of praise : in the nth supreme. And yet, even in an earthly point of view, how puny H 414 SOME EVENTS OF THE CESTI NARY, ETC. were the efforts of the world compared with those of the Church of God ; and how many votaries of human reason abandoned the temple of mere material industry to enjoy with pure delight the achievements of manly genius elevated and inspired by faith ! ^ 3. There was also a civil government, which, during the celebration of the centenary, forced itself upon the public gaze m contrast with the city of Eome. The kingdom of Italy was a prey to revolution in all its provinces, and by its secret emis- sanes, as well as by its diplomatic agents, sought to extend the same revolutionary system to the walls of Rome. And what were the fruits of the revolutionary triumph throughout Italy ? Despite the many promises of peace and plenty, penury is now found to knock at every door ; taxes overwhelm alike the gentry and the peasantry ; insecurity of property and life deadens the energies of the whole population ; whilst religion is fettered in every member, freemasonry and heresy boast of the impunity which they enjoy; and though libertinism is free from all restraint, true liberty is extinct. How striking is the contrast which the maligned city of Rome presents ! Like the Ark in the Deluge, it alone enjoys security and peace, whilst death and desolation reign around. Pius the Ninth refused to sacrifice to btate diplomacy the principles of justice and religion, and whilst his enemies are now despised throughout the world even by their former friends, he by his firmness conciliated the love, esteem, and veneration of the universe, and, during the glorious centenary which we have been describing, the bishops of the whole world, bearing on their brow the aureola of sanctity and zeal and science, offered to him the voluntary tribute of their homage, not only as the Vicar of Christ, but also as the ruler of the patrimony of St. Peter. The revolutionary agents were compeUed to report to their patrons in Florence that it was im- possible to act on the people of Rome ; and throughout the whole period of this glorious celebration tranquillity, peace, con- cord, prosperity, and plenty smiled benignly on the subjects of the Holy See. ■" -44i THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. 415 THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. It cannot be denied that within the last twenty years the monster of Atheism has wrought and is daily worLrfearful ravages m the heart of Europe. This statement will, no doubt startle some of our readers, who have been taught to beHeve that the spirit of the Encychpcvdia hm been lonS since eS t^rue :? k whop' ''"'' f ^ " ^' "Y ^'' ^' ^' -evertiless stric ?y true, and whoever will compare the two testimonies we subjoin can no longer refuse to believe it. In the year 1844 sbme French writers united to publish a dictionary of the philosoX cal sciences. In the preface to that work we read : « Atheism has well nigh completely disappeared from phibsophy t^ progress of a sound psychology will render its return for 'ever impossible. ' Be it remembered that the group of philosophirs who made this statement were not men whose SredSectrnflor Christiamty might incline them to take for granted a decay of f^^^T^^f'l^^ ^'Pf *°^ ' ^^ '^^ «°^t^W. they belonged to the school which aimed at making Christianity a religio/of purely rational doctrines, translating it into a philosoph ?al svs- em based upon belief in God. Thty admitteS the Sence '^ a personal Deity distinct from the world, infinitely perfect they mam ained the spirituality, the liberty, and the immCtalit; rL.r'S^' *^^y ^^^^o^ledged a moral kw absolute and uS^ changeable, and an essential difference between good and evil But they refused to aHow the existence of thi supernaturd* Twenty years after the publication of the lines quTed above; the heirs of the traditions of the same spiritual school fouS 1864^^1 T^-'^Y *° H^^^, ^^^y ^^'^'^^ language ?n 1864, M. Janet professor of philosophy in the Paris Faculty of Letters, made the foUowing avowal: "It is idle to conceal it the spiritualist school is undergoing a dangerous crisis. If it were only a school of philosophy that is at stake it would not matter so much ; but there is question of more than a school • there_ is questioK of an idea, the idea of spiritualism. This Idea is now threatened by a wave the most dangerous that has appeared since the Encyclopcedia, and, should it perish, the liberty and digmty of the human soul wiU be swpt^f, Lo,. oUp.„ Trli ;{,**. 7^^^a\ I" '**^ f''''^ ^^*^^^" *^^ utterance of 1844 and that of 1864 ! At the former date the idea of God shone H Ill 416 THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. F ' w !'t Ft I... r ~^i out in all its brilliancy on the world of thought, and no cloud was there to cast a shadow upon philosophy, then joyous in its hope that it was never more to suffer darkness. But in twenty short years the clouds had arisen and overspread the firmament, blotting out the light of God, and gathering a tempest which' threatens to ruin all that we possess of free and exalted and truthful. The lievuc Medicale thus pithily describes the result of the change wrought in twenty years: "Materialism has seized upon modern science. Its teaching is that there is no Ood in the world, as there is no soul in man."* Thtse testimonies regard France alone. But the storm rages fearfully over a surface far larger than the plains of France. Almost all the countries of Europe have been subjugated to the same scourge, and the idea of God is everywhere in dano-er. And it must everywhere be borne in mind that the Atheism of the present day is not merely a speculative doctrine, but one which aims distinctly at practical results. It proposes to itself to achieve a universal reform, and to achieve it not only without God and \yithout religion, but against God and against religion. Nor does it allow a single field of human energy to escape its deadly influences. In philosophy it aims at leavino- the reason without God ; in the physical sciences it would make no account of his, power or of his presence in nature ; from education it would banish religion and all traces of it ; in morals it would free the passions from the yoke of his law ; in politics, it would reconstruct society on revolutionary principles of the wildest character. "In view of such a state of thV"-s," says Mgr. Dupanloup,t speaking of France, "I kno^ hing fraught with more danger to the clergy, and to Christians, and to all honest men, than not to know, not to appreciate, or to be in- different to such a state of things as this. "J Impressed with the wisdom of this observation, we propose to do briefly for several coimtries of Europe what the Bishop of Orleans has done for France, and, taking a rapid glance at each, to point out in them to our readers the traces of the modern revival of Atheism. Let us begin with France, The schools of Atheism in France are classified by Mgr. Dupanloup under three heads : Positivism, Pantheism, and Materialism. Of the Positive sys- tem we have before spoken at some length, and shall, probably, have occasion to speak again. Of all the others, it is the system * 15th February, 1866. t L'Atheisme et le Peril Social, p. 63. JFor the facts here stated we are indebted to Mgr. Laforet's Pourqnoi VOr mcroilpas, Louvaiu, ISGG, second edition; and M. Naville'a The Ifenvenhi Father. MacMiUau, 1865. neavemy THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. 417 are multiplying themsoIveB daflv SS, ■ """^ ^a^raities isenoughYere^to Hnt „uf n^^lj '^XTraT^^^^^ I' argumente lead .traight to PosifoW ^ ^ °ork 'f t"*"?'' ttfoote rt":sn'ir„f \i° ""'"? *«S: down as a first prinSe' thti^?.. grounds P He lays exoIudeoneanotCrfh:ret;;t^1;5:„7lTtttH"eir'¥^ 18 to affirm that He does not ovi^t TT ^^^.'^^at lie is perfect if God is perfect, He dl' nof^sti'^rGonSsS He^!^^; perfect. Therefore. connli.do« M v„ i. ""a exists, He is not to God forbids us to belfeve in ItJ TM '' "l" "'f'"' ^^ """^ becomes tangible by tawlg anotW sh^e ST^' '^"i^"" oTp»oSvit • ^-°— "~ ^t ^^£ Pantheism is the deification of the universe T],« iA x- •God IS not directly destroyed, but transfomerand fo^tln V* transformation. God is no Innopr i\.^^4^ \ ■. . ^'^ *^e Personal Creator. "but1brn!SotpSeTh'ltt?'''^ of thinffs, the wholp T>io ,,r„\r„ 1 f^^yP^^' ^^e substance is uothfng ; buTt un^er s Xt" S' ^^7-." S^^ theism was introduced into France bv M P^ • t J ^'"'• eclectic school, who, as far b^H ltl7 h^'rrisit^'d™! kfd*''' of the German philosophical movement 1?J ™ „ ^f" fore his death rf. Cousin emphalicaT repu^atS a^,T? -^ trum It. Jjut Pierre Leroux openlv defends PnTifTi^ic^T • I- ^yor),, Be HumaniU ; and, acco?din| to M^^^^^ menais attempted to reconcile it with Chriftianftv fn V ^" fsqnlsse dhme philosophie. The Bishop of ol^lw ^1 ''°'?' from E Benan to prove that he ifa kntSett ^'°*" ^''^'^^ JMaterialism refuses to recognise anvthinc^ no vnoi i,- i. does not come under the experience of thTseS M.r V '^ loup quotes from its organs in FrLce p^a'cs o?/}, ^^'"^^ revolt ng brutality Z« W. Pens^ SS Pr^^Tlt specially remarkable among the number of these orgtnrmen we take into account the activity of the press Ptn^wJ + pagate Atheism under this ..J. ...T ^ Tllj^t^Z on we take into account the activity of the press rrnnS* f ^^^^^ tripll former C Te^XVo/S prodxgiou^ activity and un^crupuiousness of its apostles, and'c It * La Metaphyaique tt la Science, 2 torn. October, 1868. 28 E' mv 418 THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. H I u... w the appalling ruin their success is but too surely calculated to work, we cannot but fear for the future of France. Crossing the Khine and entering into Germany, we find our- selves at once face to face with the many-sided results of the teachings of Hegel. It cannot bu expected that we could pre- sent in these pages an exposition of Hegel's system. The mist* and clouds in which this philosopher has wrapped up his mean- ing have hitherto successfully baffled the most patient and keen- witted analysts of speculative doctrines, and have led to the most opposite interpretations. Some have deduced from Hegel's writings a sysiem of Christian theology, whilst others have detected in it a system of undisguised Atheism. It is said that shortly before his death the philosopher himself summed up the results of his teaching in these words : " I have only had one disciple who has understood me, and he has misunderstood me." But if we fail in attempting a scientific exposition of Hegelianism, we have abundant materials from which to esti- mate the character of the influence it has exercised upon the popular mind. It has been understood as simply meaning the deification of man. The famous Henri Heine wrote, in 1850, to the Augsburg Gazette : " I begin to feel that I am not precisely a biped deity, as Professor Hegel declared to me that I was twenty-five years ago." The universe, according to Hegel, is- explained by an idea, which is ever in process of developing itself. This development is necessary, and hence everything in the world is necessary, and therefore legitimate. Hence the laws of thought and of conscience are not more necessary or legitimate than the desires of the flesh. Hence there is no law to bind man, no power to govern him : he is a law and a god unto himself. This popular appreciation of Hegel's doctrines soon passed from the regions of theory to those of practice. In 1845 it was remarked that certain secret societies composed of German* were in the habit of holding meetings on Swiss soil with the object of working a revolution in Germany. The basis of this movement was Atheism. One of the principal agents wrote as follows : "The idea of God is the keystone of the arch of a tottering civilisation ; let us destroy it. The true road to liberty, to equality, and to happiness is Atheism. No safety on earth as long as man holds on by a thread to heaven. Let us teach man that there is no other God than himself, that he is the alpha and omega of all things, the superior being, and the most real reality." These revolutionary priroiples, paraded in all their shame- less audacity bcfoie the German governments and peoples, aroused a feeling of indignation which has powerfully helped Iculated to '^e find our- ilts of the- could pre- The mista his mean- and keen- led to the )m Hegel's hers have 3 said that ned up the ^ had one inderstood )08ition of 3h to esti- upon the aning the n 1850, to b precisely hat I was Hegel, is ieveloping •ything in lence the pessary or is no law nd a god on passed [n 1845 it Germans^ with the }is of this i wrote as arch of a bo liberty, on earth us teach he is the the most r shame- peoples,, ly helped THB REVIVAL OP ATHBiSM. 419 prmciples which are at once the light and thnlL^ f """'"^ reason Moleschott's book (KnelVflfl^iVnt''T^^^^ cular Course of Life," first published in islrhas h^ ?^" edition? m ten years : BuchnflVs "V^^ j f; ^^" *°"^ aeven editions, and hjfbeen transS into Frencibv Gar,:? ..hns Germany presents almost the same eWnts of A??? I'-atwehave observed in Francs T.»mll„ b ,i, • •*"><"sm terialism, although in diLentZiKS;, T « "" '""^ ^''■ they have assumed, besidsTfte ^^S^a ^a poUtSaTS"'™ in various lands we are now follow W 11%/ ZT '^T^^^« Lord Herbert of Cherburv rXri^^n • ^"^ ^^""^ ^' ^^^^^ defended it. Hobbes Toland S^^^^^^^ {? ,^ «y«t«°^> ^^d other. ppwerfuUyt2i?utdt ftsSfoT ^feSe^^' Voltaire's master. An eloquent French wr'iterMfe^' "^'^ thus describes the connection betwAprT fL^ i • Z^' V^°^ain, schools of infidelity:* ' £e iW a 1 f ""^ ^'^.^"l^ ^^^^^ arguments used by French phlsopht In S'T '^*^ ^'"^^ which is not to be^f ound fn th7S ''^'^^y' important public duties unLfSn ^nt^'' J -"l^-' ^^ ^ ^'' which had been his eS'scrool he fonn^ 'Ta 'P'^^^'^'^ books then perused by VolSr" murt havfexl^nronT^ an influence incalculably nowerful " nufw S ?r ? . "■ the most active infidel ^JTXh^..t^'^' "'• ^°"?''*' — — .„,. v^giitcci^tu ceniury, drew from • Court de LUterature Franjaise, Ye lefon. 420 THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. EnffHsli sources his earliest philosophical inspirations, and with D'Alemhert, his fellow-editor of the Encyclopaedia, placed on the title-page of that storehouse of impiety the name of Francis Bacon. Locke was to Rousseau almost all that Boling- broke was to Voltaire. The English people are styled by Ger- mans a double people on account of the strange contrasts they present. They are at once stirred by a strong spirit of piety and by a terrible spirit of irreligion. In our own day the con- trast has become much more deeply marked, and the lines be- tween both more sharply defined. The religious spirit is gradually approximating to the Catholic Church, while the irreligious energy is concentrating itself in the purely pagan systems of Positivism, German Rationalism, and Secularism. We have elsewhere sketched the state of infidelity in Eng- land. John Stuart Mill, Miss Martineau, the so-called George Eliot, Lewes, and several others, are at once popular writers, whose works are read by tens of thousands, and the apostles of Positivism. The political changes wrought within the past year in the English constitution, and which constitute a revolu- tion of supassing importance, all the more serious because, like the tide that rises silently, it has covered the land almost with- out noise, are destined to place political power in the hands of those who compose the lower stratum of society. It is right at such a moment to make some account of the theories of Secu- larism, which, as an organised system, has gained no slight hold upon the English working classes. Practically, it aims at the overthrow of the existing political order. Its doctrines are thus set forth by its chief, Mr. Holyoak: "All that concerns the origin and end of things, God and the immortal soul, is abtiolutely impenetrable for the human mind. The existence of God, in particular must be referred to the number of abstract questions, with the ticket not determined. It is probable, how- ever, that the Nature which we know, must be the God whom we inquire after. What is called Atheism is found in suspension in our theory."* The moral of this reasoning is that men sliould put aside all thoughts relating to another world, and manage to live as advantageously as possible in this present life. Hence the name of Secularism. The organs of the body are or were The Secular World, The National licformer, The Secular Advocate. Its means of action are open-air speeches and assem- blies for lectures and debates. In London there were, three years ago, five of these lecture-rooms. The programme in one of these hall for every Sunday includes a discourse at eleven o'clock, a debate at three o'clock, and a lecturn at seven o'clock. • Ap. Pearson, Infidelity, etc., p. 316. THE REVIVAL OF A HEISM. 421 ^ions, and lia, placed 3 name of it Boling- d by Ger- rasts they t of piety '■ the con- i lines be- spirit is vhile the 3ly pagan cularism. in Eng- d George r writers, postles of the past a revolu- luse, like est with- hands of I right at of Secu- 10 slight t aims at rines are concerns I soul, is stence of abstract »le, how- >d whom ispension lat men •rid, and ient life. y are or Secular i assem- •e, three 3 in one t eleven Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow, and Edinburgh are the chief centres of operation. From these facts it is plain that Atheism in England is re- producmg itself under features identical to those which mark Its appearance m France and Germany. It shows itself at both extremes of society— among the learned, the polished, the favourite novelist, the philosophical oracle, as well as among the rough-handed mechanics who crowd the large manufac- turing towns. Besides, it means work : it aims at practical consequences ; and it has now opened for it a door through which It may enter upon the stage of public afPairs, and make its voice heard and its hand felt in the management of the country. We have barely time to take a rapid glance at other Euro- pean countries. Belgium could not escape the contagion of 1 rench impiety. Ahrens has planted Pantheism in the Univer- sity of Brussels. At present M. Tiberghien, scholar and suc- cessor of Ahrens in the chair of Philosophy, is teaching Pan- theism to the students of the same University. Italy has not been altogether exempt from the plague ; although the See of St. Peter, which God has planted in its midst, has been powerful for the healing of the nation. It seems like a visitation that those who emploved even unlawful means to drive out the German stranger from the fair plains ot Italy, should themselves have fallen under the most dis- graceful slavery of German-born errors. We shall say no- thing of Gioberti, nor shall we delay to inquire how far his philosophy was coloured by that of the detested Germans. But it IS ii fact that Ilegelianism has been installed in the Univfirsity of Niiples ; that the scepticism of Ferrari finds followers ; that the writings of Ausoni Franchi, formerly a .lournalist at Turin, and now a professor at Milan, are unmis- takably Atheistic. It is needless to say that, from sources such as these, and from the teachings of the secret societies, have proceeded the recent ravings of Garibaldi and of those of whom lie is the working spokesman. That these theories are current in Holland results from M. rsaville's testimony, and from a book published last year in llollaud, mentioned by Mgr. Bupanloup, which has for inscrip- tion :_ Extindis iliis, cxtincto Leo, siiccemt Uumanitas. Of the Ilussian empire it may be said that the young nobles, and the university students in general, are imbued with irreligious prin- ciples. M. Herzen has published, under the pseudonym of Is- cander, a work, " From the other shore" in whicih the worst features of Atheism are manifest. His influence in Russia 18 described as very great. Besides native works, the leading IM ; Hi iji' nt [I', *l! i'" i 422 THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. Materialist and Atheist publications of foreign countries have been translated into Russian, and widely diffused throughout tne country. It is especially noticeable that the universities— rinciTs thought-are the citadels of these pernicious We have now reviewed the appearances of Atheism that at present manifest themselves in so many countries of Europe. JNo right-thinking man can contemplate without horror the (fad spectacle of a world which, while it flatters itself on being more enlightened than at any period of the past, has lost it^ chief good in losing the knowledge, and fear, and love of God. No Christian heart but must feel sore at the thought that so many young men, who represent the hope of the future, are turning away from Him who alone is the Way, the Truth, and the Life licsides in presence of a plague so universally prevalent, it is impossible to escape a painful sense of danger impending even over countries which, like our own Catholic Ireland, have, through God s grace, been preserved intact in the faith once de- livered to the saints. We shall not delay here to urge the general causes which involve the youth of our country in peril. Ihe literature they read which carries to their minds the seeds of error; the secret societies which, spread like a net-work over i^urope, hiy snares for their unwary feet ; the company and conversation of freethinkers, with whom society abounds : the lascination of a licentious, and the sophistry of a sceptical press ; the lack of intellectual and moral vigour, which stamp an age enslaved to sensual impressions; all these go to make up a complex danger, which, although general, it would be the height ot temerity to despise. ]iut when we consider the special cir- cumstances of our time, and the conditions under which the rising Koneration of Irish Catholics, that is to say, the first generation of emancipated Irish Catholics, is to be educated, the danger becomes more imminent, and the need of precautions more imperative. We deliberately assert that almost all the conditions calculated directly to foster a spirit of infidelity in the young are to be found in the system of education, and especially of university education, which it is attempted toforee upon the Catholics of this comitry. What, in fact are the causes of infidelity? Infidelity, ac- cording to St. Thomas, " like faith, exists in the intellecrasTn Its immediate subject, but in the will as in its first motive." And again : It is contempt on the part of the will that causes the intellect to dissent, and in this dissent infidelity essentially consists ; whence it comes that the cause of infidelity is in the will, aithougu tac infidelity itself is in the intellect." The causes of inhdelity reside, therefore, in the intellect, or in the THE REVIVAL OF ATHEISM. 423 [tries have liroughout rersities — pernicious eism that )f Europe, or the Bdd eiug more t its chief &od. No t so many e turning [ the Life, ilent, it ie iing even nd, have, 1 once de- urge the '^ in peril, le seeds of fork over )any and nds; the ;al press ; p an age ike up a be height >ecial cir- i^hich the the first 3ducated, 3cautions 5t all the delity in tion, and I to forct! slitv, ac- ect as in motive." it causes sentially s in the i." The r in the will, or in the combined action of both. On the part of the in- tellect two causes may be specified, one, the perversion of the intellect by the principles of a false philosophy, which destroy faith by rendering the Christian demonstration impossible ; the other, a gross ignorance of the doctrines of Christianity. In a system of education which refuses to the Church any part in the selection of professors, and reserves that office exclusively to the civil government, what security is there that the youth who frequent the philosophical schools may not be trained to believe in those monstrous systems which, as we have seen, now prevail in so many universities ? What warrant have we that the arguments which prove the existence of God may not be decried in tlie name of philosophy, and thus the entire founda- tion of a reasonable faith thoroughly sapped ? What force is there strong enough to repel the advancing march of that Positivism which has already gained a footing in our Irish uni- versities, and before which faith in Christ disappears ? The Christian demonstration rests upon the motives of credibility ; but of what value does such demonstration become to those who have been taught to deny the possibility of the supernatural and of the miraculous ? And is not the air thick with philoso- phical systems, which, if once rooted in the minds of the young, will make for them evermore a perpetual divorce between their reason and the faith they have received from their fathers ? And will faith thus weakened resist the shock of the assaults of the passions ? The other intellectual cause of infidelity is ignorance of the doctrines of the Catholic Church. How many lose the faith almost solely because they are ignorant of what the Church teaches ! Of how many may it be said with truth that they blaspheme what they know not ! And yet the very essence of the mixed system of education is, that this ignorance shall be maintained ! To tolerate ignorance of religion would be a defect grave enough to counterbalance many advantages in other respects, but to make Ruch ignorance the very law of a system of education is altogether monstrous. And how fre- quently does a half-acquaintance with Catholic dogmas give rise to difficulties which can be solved only by a fuller know- ledge of the same, and of the bearing of one tenet upon another. And yet, the mixed system sternly denies the advantage of this higher knowledge. To the intellectual dangers which the mixed sytem tends directly to strengthen, we ought to add the moral dangers inseparable from the mixing together of young men of different religions and of no religion. Youth is the season of pleasure ; and what check save the grace of God, ob- tained in answer to humble prayer and through the sacraments, 424 CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. know w •' "°r' "^^f'^' °* ^*« y^^r^avd passions ? « We cenZrv 'wS%?''^''' 'P'"^^^ °* *^^ ^^^els of the last fpl W ^' T * *^^'^ ""^^ ^'*^' ^^^t^«^ tl^ey are alive or dead U^i^^ their wntingg ; we attack books, not men; and WtTnirant?^ '" *^-' ^^^^^^T^l- proof, ^e maintain that But Pvp?,-f fv, Pa««^ons are the true causes of incredulity." harmp..^ if,, through some fortunate circumstances which may oe nappily absent, nevertheless the absence of thp rpl,-»im,« young men lull of levity, dissipated, worldly-minded wPik \n chpracter and indifferent to the practices YrelSn Men infidd^v rif-r ^'* ^'i'^ '' '''''' '^' ^tt^^ks of thTspir^ of mlidelity which, as we have seen, is sending its poisoned breath over Europe ; and we shall be false to our mosSmn dutvlf we spare any effort that may be necessary to savHhe youni bref^ircT^'' ^'^ ''''''-'' ^' '^''^^^ --^y-' ^--t! 3 I;! m i.ii'ii CHURCH QUESTIONS 11^ THE THIRD CENTURY. In the growth of tho great Christian Society of the Church may be traced successive stages analogous to tbose which mark Its highest form of completeness. The earliest factors of society are ndmduals ; these unite and form families; the unToii of coSte't'stt; town; many towns with their territoH: Sfh tL pn r fW'' ^'""''^'^ the growth of tne v.nurcn. ibe earliest factors were separate individuals to whose conscience the Gospel triumphantly appealed ; from the e SipHTH^/T ^^"«t-?Ail-; Zd these as they mrPd tip i T^T' '^ '"'^^^^' ""^ ^^ «o«i«l standing, pro- pared the way for the great change which took place under Introduction, Traito de la Traie Religion, p. U. CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY 425 as? "We of the last s^e or dead, them only men; and ntain that iredulity." i^hich may ibertinism religious eration of 1, weak in on. Men t spirit of ed breath m duty if he young , from its URY. Church ch mark mts into f society union of rritories L of tne uals, to m these as they ig, pro- e under Constantme when the Religion of Him whom Roman soldiers had put to a cruel death, became the religion of the sovereign oi the Roman world. It will be readily admitted that each one of these successive stages of growth presented to those who rule the Church difficulties of its own, and problems of govern- ment, the conditions of which varied with the varying adiuncts of the occasion. But of all other periods those were most fertile ot intricate combinations, which marked the transition from one stage of growth to another. At the critical periods of change it became especially difficult to maintain in harmony the various component parts of any whole, excited as they are and put m motion by the forces that are working the change A i i,T '? '"^ ^""^^ extremity that the skilful pilot is seen. And while, in the strain caused by such a crisis, weak societies perish, the vital energy of robust societies is exhibited in all its strength. In the critical epochs of Church history it is always the Roman PontifP who appears in the hour of danger. Ihrough him the conflicting claims of the old and of the Sew order of things are adjusted ; his voice, speaking with authority, calms ail disputes ; his wisdom, heaven-sent for such end, sug- gests precautions which conjure away the growing dancer- and it becomes plain to all that, through him, as visible head of the Lhurch, the Eternal and Invisil le Head rules and guides his faithful on earth. Such a crisis as we have been describing » k: place early in the third centurj , and recent discussions among the learned have served to invest its history with an exceptional interest. It was lor t^3 Church the period which prepared her transition Ironi the condition of a quasi-domestic society to that of a mighty public corporation, placed in fullest light of day, in- cluding withm its circle men of all ranks, fro.n the imperial ruler down to the vilest slave who fretted away his life in the dark places of Roman palaces. Tertullian's well-known words* give an idea of the expansion of the Clmrch at that time. From being hostile to Christianity, he says, men "become Christians, to wit, from conviction, and bogin'to hate what they were, and to profess what they hated, and are as numerous as indeed we are publicly declared to be. Men cry out that the State is beset, tliat the Christians ai-e in their fields, in their forts, in their islands. They mourn, as if for a great loss, tliat every sex, age, condition, and ncnv even rank itself, is going over to this sect." And yet, numerous as they were, or rather pre- cisely because from their numbers they attracted so much atten- tion, they were subjected to persecution, and that from various • Apol. i. 1. I ' ^'V: 426 CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. quarters. " As many as are strangers to it (Christian truth), so many are Its foes: and the Jews, indeed, appr )priately from their rivalry, the soldiers from their violence, even they of our own household from nature. Each day are we beset, each day betrayed ; in our very meetings and assemblies are we mostly surprised. The persecution put in motion by Septimius beverus lasted down to the year 211. From that year till the death of Pope /ephyrinus, in 218, and even during the five years of the pontificate of Callistus, his successor, the Church enjoyed considerable calm. But the period of persecution handed down to the period of peace many troublesome ques- tions, which remained after the persecution had ceased, as the angry chafing of the sea waves remains after a storm on the deep. 1 he care of the material interests of a large community natur- ally brought the rulers of the Church into contact with the civil powers, and this contact often involved them in serious difficulties, and demanded on their part a constant exercise of Christian prudence. Again, it was necessary to heal in the time of peace the wounds that had been inflicted in the discipline of the Church, especially in connection with the clergy, during the persecu- tions, l^rom the several heresies already in dissolution, many persons were finding their way back to Catholic unity, and they were so to be received as that neither the discipline of the Church should suffer, nor yet the path to union be made unne- cessarily difficult for them. In the midst of various and shift- ing shades of error, the light of Catholic faith was to be kept pure and brilliant. The existence of slavery, involving so many difficulties, was also a fruitful source of problems, each of which required most carefid consideration. These and other questions cal ed for solution especially in the pontificate of St. Callistus, and we have abundant materials at hand to enable us to study in some detail the method of government followed by that Illustrious Pope. It is not our intention in this paper to enter tally into the merits of each of the questions described as having been submitted for judgment to St. Callistus. Nor do we address ourselves to institute a defence of that Pontiff. We propose to ourselves a more limited range of subject. We pur- pose rather to consider the Church questions of that time in as far as they throw light upon the position of the Roman Pontiff, and are proofs of his supremacy in the government of the entire Church. The literature of the Callistian period of history has of late yeai^ received many additions, and it is right that we should briefly describe it before entering upon our subject. In 1842 • Apol. ii., 7. L truth), 80 tely from tiey of our , each day ve mostly Septimius ar till the f the five le Church 3rsecution •me ques- ed, as the the deep. ity natur- 1 the civil ifficulties, Christian, peace the ; Church, persecu- on, many and they le of the ide unne- -nd shift- 3 he kept 1 so many of which ijuestions Jallistus, to study by that to enter jribed as Nor do ;i£e. We We pur- me in as PontifP, t of the is of late e should In 1842 CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. 427 -i MS.* now famous under the name Philosophonmenon, was brought to France from a monastery on Mount Athos, and in 1851 was published at Oxford by Emmanuel Miller.f In this work the author undertakes to refute all heresies, and lays down as a principle admitted by all, that the Holy Scriptures, with the traditions of the holy fathers, is the rule of Christian faith, rhis principle he applies to all heresies, and shows that, instead ot commg from Scripture and tradition, they come from pagan philosophy, from profane mysteries, or from astrology. In his fourth book he shows that the miracles appealed to by the heretics are to be attributed to magic. In the next five books he refers all known heresies to a profane origin ; and in reciting the several heresies he follows no order of time. Last but one comes the Callistians, so styled by him as being followers of 1 ope St. Callistus. In the tenth and last book he sums up all he had said before, and exhorts the whole world to hold true doctrine. The charges brought by the author of the PhilosopJioiimem against Pope Callistus are such as could not fail to attract atten- tion from both the friends and foes of the Catholic Church. Here was a contemporary of that Pontiff who deliberately ac- cused him of having corrupted the true faith, and of having tampered with the purity of ecclesiastical discipline. The bock Itself was published as the work of Origen ; the German Jacobi was the first to attribute it to a Latin writer, who, he thought, was no other than Hippolytus. BunsenJ agreed with Jacobi as to the author, but differed from him, by holding that it was the identical refutation of heresies ascribed by Photius to Hippolytus, whereas Jacobi held that this latter was a work altogether distinct. Canon Wordsworth § defended the views of Jacobi. About this time a fresh theory as to the author's name was started in England, according to which Caius, a con- temporary of Pope Zephyrinus, was the writer of the book. This theory found an able defender in Fessler at Tubingen. Soon after a distinguished Irish scholar, Dr. Cruise, brought * This MS. is now in the Paris Library (No. 464), and is of the fourteenth century. It is a copy from a very old original, and has on the last page the in- scription : Xepffi Mi^avX jyt£ /Ji/3\o(; rtXkdv ypa^tiaa. (This hook wa.i written hu t/ie /land of u}fir/ia€l.) . r v n t Oru/euis Phihsophoumcna siw omnium ha'resium rcfutatio e codice PariMno nunc primiim cdidit, Eininanuel Miller: Oxonii, 1851. A second edition ap- peared at Gottingen in 1859 from Professors Duncker and Sell neidwin; and a tliird at 1 ans, trom Dr. Cruice, the late Bishop of Marseilles. IJoth these later editions are furnished with notes and critical corrections of the text, which in the MS. itself is full of in;iccuracics. X Hippolytus and hit af/c : London, 1852. . § St. Hippolytus and the Church of Home in the earlier part of the third cen- tury. London, 1863. ^ J 428 CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. Ittfnn i'ii 11 SI J ' 1 forward an array of reasons why the book should be ascribed to lertulhan * He did not, however conceal the grave difficulties that exist against this view, which, indeed, had been first pro- prosed by Abbe Jallabert at Paris.f Bollinger, who attributes the work to Hippolytus, has examined in detail the charges it contains against St. Callistus, and abundantly refutes them. ± ather Torquato Armellini, S.J.,; is inclined to make Novatian the author. The Abbe Le Hir, of St. Sulpice, accepts Hippo- lytus as the author, § but ascribes the work to him prior to his ccmversion to the Catholic faith. As late as June, 1865, Albert Iteviile, m the Revue chs Deux Moiides, brought forward once niore as against the Catholic Church, the revelations contained o^ / . . P^^^^omphoumena, and against him that the illustrious buipician took the field. Finally, the Cav. De Rossi has brought to bear ou the subject, his marvellous knowledge of Christian antiquities, and m the BuUetino di Archeoloyia Clinafiana for the vear 18(36, has devoted himself to the defence of St. Callistus. ±.ven among Catholics, the opinion which would make St. Hip- polytus (before his conversion, and while still attached to Nova- tionism) the author of this book, prevails very generally. De Kossi IS certainly inclined to attribute it to Tertullian, and this m tace of serious difficulties. But on all sides it is admitted tliat the work is an authentic production of the third century. , .^/^^ ^^ijer, whoever he may have been, betrays the most bitter hostility towards Callistus. His charges against that rontilt are twofold. One set of accusations is levelled against his personal qualities, another against his public life. We i^ave now to deal only with the latter. Touching the former, we shall merely observe that Callistus was born a slave at Rome. Ills master, who was a Christian, was named Carpophorus, and JJe lios.si publishes a sepulchral inscription bearing liis name, and tu ly agreeing with all that is known concerning him. Carpophorus held some post in the palace of the emperor, ile confided to his slave a considerable sum of money, where- with the latter was to trade as a banker. Callistus opened his bank, and so high Avas the reputation of his master amoiK- the laithtul tliat the poor, and especially the widows, placed lu his hands large sums of their money. Ihit the bank tailed, and Callistus fled from his master's resentment. Car- molt^£nZ.Z7 f' '\V/T"'', '^'"'^''^'^^^f^J^i^ioriquos emprunteH a Vouvrage ream- menttlecoiu-ert jiics .vtr k Urn: des PhiloHophonmcna. Paris 1853 ,- .L rT''' ''''■^"^"' '"">." l>^'r<;s<'on, OrhjonU nomine PhUosophumemn tiUdo ncem viilaatn, rommentariu.'-:. Komn-, 18(52. ISel.^^ ^'"'^'^ ^^' ^'"''''*^*' ^* ^'^^ Philosophumena, m the Etudes, etc. Oct., Nov. CHUHCH CJUESTJONS IN THE THIRU CENTURY. 429 iscribed to iifficulties first pro- attributes charges it tes them. Novatian ts Hippo - ior to his 35, Albert rvard once contained llustrious s brought Christian na for the Callistus. St. Hip- to Nova- illy. He , and this admitted entury. the most inst that i against We iiave rnier, we at Rome, ^rus, and lis name, ng him. emperor. r, where- )cned his r among 3, phieed he bank It. Car- mge reccm- iienon titulo Oct., Nov. pophorus pursued him, and, having come up with him at Ostia, condemned him to the punishment of turning a mill. After some time the Christians obtained his release, from this degrading and laborious task, and Callistus went to the syna- gogue to demand his money from the Jews, who had probably been the cause of his ruin. His visit to the synagogue, and his violence therein, aroused the anger of the Jews, who, after having maltreated him in his person, brought him before the prefect, Fuscianus, accused him as being a Christian, and charged him with having violently disturbed their assembly which was permitted by the law. In vain Carpophorus claimed his slave. The prefect sentenced Callistus to be scoum-ed, and then to be sent to labour in the mines of Sardinia.'' There he toiled in company with many illustrious confessors of the true faith, until Marcia, consort of Commodus the emperor, a woman most friendly to the Christians, if not herself a Christian, obtained from the sovereign the liberation of them all. On the list of confessors drawn up by Pope Victor for Marcia, the name of Callistus was not, indeed, to be found ; but through the intervention of Marcia's commissioner he, too, obtained his liberty together with his companions. On his return to Rome, he was sent by Pope Victor to Antium, where he was admitted into the ranks of the clergy. On the death of Pope Victor, /ephyrinus, who succeeded to St. Peter's chair, summoned Cal- listus to Rome. According to the writer of the PhilosopJiou- mcno, the new Pope allowed himself to be guided in all thing's by his deacon, Callistus, in whose hands he placed the govern- ment of the clergy and the management of all the important affairs of the Church. It is especially mentioned that the I*ontifE placed him over the great cemetery still known by his name. When we consider that the clergy and people had a large share in the election of persons to discharge the higher offices among the clergy, it will be plain that the virtues of Callistus must have won for him the esteem of all. Upon the death of Zephyrinus in 218, Callistus, who had been for eighteen years his principal adviser, was chosen to fill his place. His pontificate lasted but for five years, his death by martvr- dom being recorded in the year 223. We may now proceed to consider the charges brought against Callistus, and examine what light they throw upon the position accorded at that period to the Roman Pontiff. As we said above, the acts upon which these charges are grounded were demanded by the peculiar circumstances of the time, and by the state of the Church at that period. The multitude of the faithful of every rank, led as a natural con- sequence to many unequal marriages, which were null in the vpHmMHHm ^mmmmm rr 430 CHUUCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTUR'K. eyes of the civil law. "Was the Church to declare them null, or rather accept them as in accordance with the natural and Christian law ? Again, in so large a hody of believers, those who fell into sin after baptism could not be very few, considering the cor- rupt atmosphere they were compelled to live in, and the perse- cution to which the were frequently subject. Nor would there be wanting accusations against bishops, priests, and deacons. IJesides, a general movement was urging on towards the Church many schismatics and heretics. How were these cases to be dealt with ? Was the stern, unbending rigour of discipline to be increased, even at the risk of keeping souls out of the Church, lest the faithful should be contaminated ? or was mercy to be shown to the weak but repentant sinner ? The great bulk of the faithful were converts from polytheism, and found some difficulty in comprehending the doctrinal exposition of the Trinity set forth against the heresy of Sabellius ; and how was this embarrassment to be overcome ? Callistus took steps to answer each and all these questions, and his decisions are the subject of the bitter attack of his enemy. Let us examine them one by one. _ The author of the Philosophoumcna accuses Callistus as being guilty of " impious iniquif)/, and a teacher of Imt and wurder." Mr. Reville thus develops the charge : " Did he not go as far as to allow patrician ladies to live in concubinage with slaves or men of inferior condition, in cases where, being without husbands (of their own rank), and unwilling to lose their dignity by marrying beneath them, they had no other way of indulging their passions ? The consequence was that women. Christians by profession, were seen to follow the infamous example of pagan nations, and by causing abortion, endeavoured to conceal the results of their shameful weakness. These are the terrible charges which Hippolytus fears not to launch against Callistus. The charges are terrible, indeed, but like many other charges brought against the popes, they are nothing else than a dis- torted account of what in itself is lawful and just. The text states no more than this that Callistus gave permission to ladies of noble rank, who were still young and unmarried, and who did not wish to fall from their position by publicly marrying an inferior, to marry (as we should now say morganatically) a slave or freedman, although such a marriage was declared null and void by the civil law. Under Marcus Aurelius and Com- modus, that is a few years prior to the pontificate of Callistus, a decree of the senate was passed to the effect that the widows or daughters of senators should lose their rank as clarmima femina or puella, in case they should contract marriage with a CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THK THIRD CENTURY. 431 man not of senatorial rank. Such unions were, however, legiti- mate. But, on the contrary, unions between clarissimw und slaves or freedmen were declared null and void, and being con- sidered by the law tanquam non essent, did not entail on the ludy the loss of her high social position. The text, therefore, speaks of the case of ladies of senatorial rank who preferred to a le<'-al marriage with a knight or a plebeian, which would entail^on them the loss of^ their title of nobility, a marriage with a sluve orfrccdman, which, invalid in the eyes of the law, was neverthe- less valid according to conscience and before the Church. This being the substance of the accusation, what blame can be at- tached to Callistus ? Let it be borne in mind that the number of converts among senatorial families was exceedingly large, and that it was very difficult for the ladies of such families to find Christian husbands of their own rank, and that to contract legal marriages with persons inferior in rank to their own, was to incur the loss of their dignity. This civil disability, coupled with the difficulty of finding Christian husbands of senatorial rank, was a strong inducement to the Christian clarmimcB to in- termarry with pagan senators. It was in order to lessen the pressure of this temptation that Callistus allowed them to con- tract, before the Church, marriage with Christian slaves or freedmen, or even ingcnui of rank inferior to them, while in the eyes of the law such marriage was not recognised as valid, or was never contracted at all. Nor was there anything shocking or repulsive to Christian feeling in those close unions with slaves. " We make no difference," says Lactantius,* " between slaves and masters : we give to each other the name of brother, because we believe that we are all equal." And Cav. De Rossi declares that among the many thousand sepulchral inscriptions in the catacombs, he has hardly found a single one which has certain mention of a servus, and very rarely one to make men- tion of a Ubertus ; whereas of pagan inscriptions of the same period you can hardly read ten without finding frequent men- tion of slaves and freedmen. So far, then, from having sub- stantiated his terrible charges against Callistus, the writer has but supplied us with an important fact to prove that in the earliest ages the Church took no account of the matrimonial im- pediments created by the civil law, but on the contrary claimed to herself entire power over the marriage of Christians. What more striking argument could we have against the propositions 68 and 69, condemned by Pius the Ninth in the Si/llahus : " The Church has not the power of establishing diriment im- pediments of marriage, but such a power belongs to the civil * Divin. Instil, v. 14. 15. |!^f 432 CHUKCII QUKSTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. authority, by which existing impediments are to be removed. In the dark ages the Church began to establish diriment impedi- ments, not by her own right, but using a power borrowed from the State." We learn from the Philosophoumcna that at the close of the second century the Church had and exercised power over the impediments of matrimony, and that St. Callistus, the sixteenth successor of St Peter, held as clearly us Pius the I^inth, the two hundred and fifty-ninth Pope, that the civil authority has not power to establish such impediments. And so far is it from being true that it was only in the middle ages that the Church began to establish diriment impediments in virtue of a power borrowed from the State, that about one hundred years after the death of St. John t].^ Evangelist, she deliberately set aside laws passed by the State concernin«^ matrimony. " " It was little more than a century after the death of the beloved disciple," writes Ctcsar Cantu,* " when the common suffrage of the Church placed at the head of Christendom a slave who had worked at turning a mill- stone, and who, under the name of St. Callistus, became one of the most illustrious of the Popes. What a revolution ! The whole world is divided into two camps ; on one side power, wealth, liberty ; on the otlier, slavery, oppression, misery ; it is only in the Christian Church that all classes and all conditions are brought near to ■each other; she alone possesses the highest mo'-al authority that has ever appeared on the earth, and she confides it to a shn-e; and this slave, become Pontiff, pursues the work of the emancipation, and of the brotherhood of nations. Whilst the Lex Julie and the Lex Papie declare null and void the mar- riage of a member of a senatorial family with a person of inferior rank, Callistus proclaims that the patrician and the slave have received from God the same duties, that God will judge both with equal rigour, and will never allow pride to sunder a union consecrated by Himself." It is unnecessary to remark that if some women, led away by the prevailing corruption of the pagan Avorld in which they lived, abused the permission granted them by the Church, such abuse cannot be justly charged upon the Roman Pontiff. The next accusation avo shall examine is that according to whicli Callistus was guilty of " being the first icho was indul- (jcnt u-tth men in ichat eoncerns rolujduousnofs, sai/incj that he forcjare^ sins to ail." By this plenary remission of sin, Callistus, according to his adversary, gave men full license to indulge * La Erforme in Italic. 'Discors. I. ! removed. at impedi- )wed from 'ose of the awer over listus, the Piu8 the the civil its. And iddle ages iments in about one vangelist, jnceming .th of the i common tendom a ho, under strious of is divided ; on the Christian it near to xuthority 28 it to a ?k of the ^hilst the the mar- )erson of and the God will pride to :ed away lich they xh, such ccording 'as indul- ' that he ^allistus, indulge CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIKU CKNXUKY. 43^ in sinful pleasures forbidden by Christ to his discinlGs Thn reader witl remark that Callistus is not here accused of «h«3v mg smners without exacting from thprnX^^r* ^°^^" which would have been m!st~TuttfTo dVng XrS Church has power to forgive all sins without distinction In this the .lu hor sl,ows himself a Montanist, and a believer \ ihl doctrme aid covvn by Tertullian after hi had^in d the se^ IheMontain.ts held that the nnner who wa. L\U^ rJ enmes should be irrevocably excludS romTe sfcaments'^ a3 torn sharing ni the sacrifice of the Church even Tnhs Lst almost identical with the cSse7Ciht W K^"*?"*^ " posed Hitherto. *' "~ ■■^-' a-^s-"iij oup- We have, therefore, in this second charge of the author of 29 434 CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. the Philosophotrmena, a luminous proof of the Catholic doctrine concerning the sacrament of penance, and an illustration of the power of the Roman Pontiff over other Bishops, inasmuch as the exercise of that jurisdiction is compared by an heretical writer to the act of one who is Bishop of Bishops and Sovereign Pontife. Another charge against Callistus is, *' that if any of the clergy had contracted marriage he alloxced him to remain in the clergy as if he had not sinned." To such cases the Pontiff was wont, according to his accuser, to apply the parable of the cockle, of the ark of Noah, and such like, which he interpreted of sinners in the Church. This accusation supplies us with an excellent argument for the apostolic origin of the celibacy of the clergy, It is plain from'it that in the beginning of the third centur it was considered a sin for one belonging to the higher ordei of the clergy either to contract marriage or to make use of mar- riage before ordination, for the word '^/afie7v is capable of both these interpretations ; and, whatever may have been the precise nature of the Callistian decree which, when maliciously dis- torted, gave rise to the accusation now under our consideration, it is plain that Callistus himself considered the marriage of clergymen to be sinful : else, why apply to their case the pa- rable of the cockle, of the ark of Noah, which held both the clean and the unclean, all of which he interpreted of sinners in the Church? De Rossi thinks that allusion is made here to the use of marriage contracted before ordination, which is still tolerated by the Oriental Church. Some cases of this may have occurred during the pontificate of Callistus, and although the Pope acknowledged them to be an abuse, yet he thought it pru- dent to tolerate them through fear of greater evil, until the time should come in which it should be safe to abolish them entirely. It is well worthy of attention that the author of the Philosophoumena does not speak of those abuses as occur- ring in the Roman Church. On the contrary, he uses the phrase " under him," which he had used in another place in speaking of those bishops who repeated the baptism given by heretics, and who were Oriental prelates. What a clear idea does this give of the supremacy of the Roman Pontiff, in that the abuses committed in the far East were laid to his charge, as if he were responsible for their existence and maintenance ! Such an accusation, far from doing an injury to Callistus, is a splendid homage rendered to the supremacy of the Apos- tolic See. The most serious charge of all is that which would repre- j i^_11-'-i.._ __ ~ A !,„_ ^C i!.,I^„ J — i_:__ • J.V _ Trinity. It is asserted that before the death of Zephyrinus, bUU CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. 435 C^stus defended the Catholic dogma when in presence of the Catholics, the Noetian doctrine before the JS-oetians but that after the death of Zephyrinus, he prorauliated a r^nli doc rxne partly Theodotian"^ and partly ^Sabem!n But the writer here betrays himself. He addsf that all, with the ex ception of himself, agreed with Callistus : that the teachLJ introduced by CaUistus continued ever after in the RomaS Church, and that it was spread over all the earth Zw we have an authentic exposition of the faith defended in Rome towards the second half of the third century concerSnf the Trinity. D^onysms the Pope sent to Dionysius of flex andria a statement of the faith cE the Roma/church on tS points raised by the SabeUian controversy, and that fSth's the faith afterwards defined at the Council of Nice litVn Ih doctrine of CaUistus remained In the Roman Church and be- rXrs ' '' ""' ^'"' ^'^" '^' ""'^y ^^^^ °f t^elficene This is not the place to enter upon a minute examination of the various formulas which th. author recites. We Sll rather ask our readers to make some reflection upon the results hat followed the teaching of Pope CaUistus. The 4iter admits that, as soon as CaUistus pubUshed a statemenfof hL docSTne all men adopted his teachings as their own, and this throuST' out all the world. Besides, he mentions that those X thus followed the teaching of the Roman PontiffcTaimed for that reason to be "the 6atholic Church." thereby furS- ' mg an additional proof that the union with Rom J in fe th was the ^m... of Catholicity Again, it is plairthat long tiaHtv i fb r'^ "* ^r '^' ^?''''''' «f '^' consubst^? tiahtyof the Son was already clearly held in the RomTn Church, and through her aU throughout the Christian world. On other points, too, the teachfng of Rome mTrkeS out the path which was afterwards followed in th. ,r decSons by the Nicene I athers. In the second century, Rome had prohibited the celebration of Easter on the same day w7th the Jews. In the third, Rome pr. scribed the severity of the No- vatians, and the repetition of baptism administered by heretics And, when the great council assembled in the fourth century It condemned the Quartodecimans and the Novatians and declared baptism to be valid, irrespective of the faith of th? minister. "At each point," 8a^ . the learned M LeHir "St !'» minister. " At each point," 8a^-^ tae luurnea Ambrose's saying was verified "by anticipation Eccksia. i(bi Petrus, ibi W^o conclude b'"' b V ■■-•••i^-ng + ^ 4-T the various 1 J 11 •*',,. c «? "o- -"^i "uo vaiious ueiaus we have touched on m this notice of the questions that stirred 436 CHURCH QUESTIONS IN THE THIRD CENTURY. men's minds in the Cliurch at the close of the second and the beginning of the third century. Such details present us with an interesting picture of the Cath lie Church of that remote age. We find it to have been then as now the congrega- tion of the faithful professing one and the same faith, in obe- dience to the Bishop of Rome as earthly head of the entire Church. Its hierarchy of bishops, priests, and deacons was as fully defined then as now. Its clergy were unmarried, and even heretics thought the marriage of the clergy to be a sin. Marriage was looked upon as a sacrament, and as such com- pletely under the control of the Church, which claimed and used power over matrimonial impediments, holding as valid marriages which the civil power had declared null and void. The sacrament of penance was in honour and in use, and those who had stained their baptismal innocence sorrowfully sub- mitted their sins to the priests of the Church, who, in virtue of their divine commission, loosed them from even the most grievous offences. Among the faithful the distinction of rank was forgotten ; there was neither slave nor freeman, but all were brothers in Christ. And the ruler and guide of the entire body was the Roman Pontiff, who sat in the chair of Peter. Was there question in the Eastern Churches of ve- baptising those baptised by heretics ? it was laid to his charge, because being done " under him," he was responsible for it. Did the African bishops show an excessive severity in ad- mitting poor sinners to the sacraments ? It was the Pope who, as Bishop of Bishops and Pastor of Pastors, sent them a " per- emptory edict " which commanded mercy towards the penitent, and who thereby abated their rigour. Was there question of the true faith in the Trinity ? The Roman Pontiff con- demns Sabellius, and scuds to Alexandria a statement of the faith of the Roman Church to be held by all. And all received the teaching of the Pontiff ; his doctrine became the formula of each Church, and the faithful styled themselves " the Ca- tholic Church " because they agreed in faith with lae Bishop of Rome. Is not the Catholic Church, like its Divine Founder Himself, the same yesterday, to day, and for ever ? d and the it us with at remote congrega- h, in obe- the entire ms was as [•ried, and ) be a sin. such com- limed and ;■ as valid and void, and those fully sub- , in virtue the most m of rank n, but all de of the 3 chair of les of ve- lis charge, ble for it. ty in ad- Pope who, n a " per- penitent, question mtiff con- nt of the [1 received e formula " the Ca- ae Bishop r Himself, THE BISHOP OF ORLEANS. 437 THE BISHOP OF ORLEANS 0.\ THE NEXT GENERAL COUNCIL.* frTrnT/? ^f ^7^^«ted upon our amiable and august Pontiff- wnicn nas become all of a sudden too small for the immpn^P '/v7htte^th"K\^ entire Christian worRWbS of fll .! ? i^ ^'*°P' -''^^^^^ ^i™' whUst, in the midst raised to TbVT^^I fr^ ^''^'^'''' ^^^^^ *1^«P%' ^^^^^oe raised to the glory of the saints some of the lowly children of the Church It was in the midst of the emotions LaWd bv that great festival of the Centenary of St. Peter and of thf Canonisation, and in that assembly of the bishops of the Zr? \V' '^'.T'' °^ ^'' l'^*^^'« successorTas^ udden^ spoken to the world a word that has not been heard there ?or three centuries, and has announced one of those o-reaf ^nrS men^of the Universal Cburch-a Gen'lal Council ^ What ! an oecumenical council in the days we live in • at the close of this century, so agitated and so storm-blaten ' about which men ask, how will it end? is it to set in teCest!'or wTu It herald the dawn of a better time ? A Council, that hinffso feTwd." "" ^ "^"'^^^ '' '' '' P^^^^^^ ovei^he birth ?f a hIs fblrl Tt"" ""^^^ ^ ^""^^^^ ^°"^«il i«' what advan' aXw ^ ' Y' T' '^"P^^ ^^°™ '^ i^ "^^"^ents of peril, ^bii if- T^ ^°P' ^^''"^. '^ ^°-^^y ; ^^h^» I reflect upon the obstacles which seem to arise from the advanced age of 'he Roman Pontiff, and the dangers that threaten the Holy S;e' when, notwithstanding, I behold this aged man, now Almost eighty years old, raise himself above vulgar solicitudes and with generous trust in the God who insj^res him, undertake Thtklir ' Ti?.'^- '" ^^''^'•"^^ so laborious, I 'cannot but think and say : This is an inspiration from on high ! this way InT^A^aA''^"^\ ft'' T''"^"' ^^'' ^«P«' ^r« clearlv heaven- sent, and God will bless them. , vcu ^ Ml ; 438 THE BISHOP OF ORLEANS JJ'TTT T But what are General Councils, so rare and so decisive in the Church ? Whence come their great authority and their supreme influence ? It is right and necessary, my brethren, to tell you of these things, that your piety may be enlightened, and your faith have clear and precise notions on a subject of so much importance. General Councils are, as I have said, the solemn par- liaments of Catholicism, the general assemblies of the teach- ing Church. The Pope convokes all the bishops of the uni- verse, and from all parts of the earth they come, representing, with the Pope, who is their head, and who presides over them, all the churches of the world. And the Holy Spirit is there in those sacred meetings, speaking by lips of those men, to whom it has been said : " As mi/ Father hath sent me, so do I send yoH. Go teach all nations, teaching them what I have taught you, and hehold, in your great mission as divine teachers, / am Kith you all days, even to the consummation of the world ! " In these divine words of Jesus Christ we have the charter of the doctrinal infallibility of the Church, and, consequently, of General Councils, which, in the language of Bellarmine, of Fenelon, of Bossuet, and of all theologians, are representations of the Universal Church. Hence it is that the decisions of General Councils have always terminated controversies and fixed the faith of the Church. Those who were surprised twelve years ago that the Church should define a dogma, did not know then that it is the Church's mission on earth to define, that is to say, not to create, but to affirm, to proclaim the dogma, and thereby fix the symbol and maintain immovable the unity of the faith. Even in the days of the Apostles, the Church was assembled in Jerusalem, and it was in a veritable General Council, such as the times permitted, that the Apostolic College decided the question of the legal observances, and freed Christendom from the yoke of the Mosaic laws. From the Council of Nica3a to the Council of Trent, whenever Christendom was threatened by any great danger to faith or morals, or when reforms in discipline became necessary, the Pope convened the Bishops of the East and West, placed himself at their head, in person or by his legates, and the Council decided the question in dispute, or passed those general h^s of discipline which constitute the statute law of the Churcu. Thus, when the subtleties of Arius and of the Greek mind came to trouble the Church's simple faith in the divinity of the Word, and to sap the very basis of Christianity, the bishops. I- ON THE NEXT GENERAL COUNCIL. 439 l\ ecisive in ind their ;thren, to tghtened, ject of so 3mn par- le teach- the uni- escnting^ ver them, t is there men, to e, so do I ! / have teachers, n of the iharter of lently, of 'mine, of icntations isions of and fixed d twelve act know E, that i» »ma, and unity of sscmbled I, such as !ided the lorn from f Trent, t danger ) becamo East and s legates, )r passed le statute 3ek mind ty of the bishops> with the legates of Pope St. Sylvester at their head, assembled at .\icaea and each of them bearing witness to the radTon of his own Church and of the Universal Church, the Word was declared consubstantial, and we sing to-day, and M-e .haU still In the same way, the errors raised after Arius, touching the great and fundamental mysteries of the Trinity and the Incar- nation by Macedomus, Nestorius, and Eutyches. feU before the general faith proclaimed in the famous Councils of Constanti! ?h?MJi. % ^^n^asus's legates presided ; of Ephesus, where F.thi, nf t T ^''^,^"' proclaimed by St. Cyril and all the Fathers of the Council, amidst the rejoicings of the whole world, to be the Mother of God; and of Chalcedon, where the fn Am T^ ""V^n ^''"' ^P°^^ ^y ^'^' I°i«^<^rt;i councils ! tZa. 7" ^t f'^^'y ^^' ^''^^ P^^^ '^^^^'^'^ as to the fai^h «. r r ^f' '5 r^ *'"*^ ^^^y proclaimed the same Hdy spSt '^ °'^'^''' *°°' ""^'^ ^°'p^'^^ ^y *^« After the eighth general council, in 869, two centuries 'a^'ln^^^\^^''"'''l """''"J^' \ .^"* ^^^y ^'^ t^« t^« darkest and most painful centuries m history. In the twelfth and ^h r, rr'^^R^ ^' '""S ^'^''^^ ^ ^^^^ development of Christian life. How often did the great Popes of these ages recognise the necessity of having recourse to these general assemblies of Cathohcism in order to decide with mor? effect and authority the questions then under discussion in the (hurch and to protect at one time the faith, in danger from scholastic subtlety, or from old heresies once more springing u^ 111 the dark under new names ; at another, the libertv of the CH !;;^'1T'''''^. \ T^'H ''^•^^'^^^' ^' ^^ t^^ Investitures; oi again, the purity of disciplnie violated bv interior abuses not less disas rous, and which the Church, who never dreads reform because she has the divine power of self-reformation, frit that she should extirpate. This was the object of the four general councils of Lateran, and of the two of Lyons, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. wuum TV,-^\i^^ ''^°'^ ""^ the twelfth century, Pope Alexander the 11 ^^/"^I'^P'-^s^es himself in the Bull by which he con- voked the third council of Lateran : - We observe in the Church oi God many things to be corrected. Therefore, to reform what has need of reform, and to promulgate what wiU advance the salvation of the faithful, we have resolved to sum- moil from diflfcTont parts the men of the Church, to the end that in accordance with the tradition of the Fathers such measures as the good of the Church requires may be resolved I ill 11 ^^K—-E~<. ^ -^ t- k 440 THE BISHOP OF ORLEANS o upon and authorised by the concourse of a largo number. Par- ticular decisions would not, perhaps, have so much weight." He then indicates the date and place of the council, and adds : " Helped by the grace of the Holy Spirit, let us unite our efforts, and all together, like one man, let us lift on our shoul- ders the ark of God." In the following century the great Pope, Innocent tlio Third, in convoking the fourth council of Lutern for 1st No- vember, 1215, used similar language in the Bull Vhieam Domini Sabaoth : *' The vineyard of the Lord of Hosts is now assailed by wild beasts, who seek to destroy it." And then, aftor drawing a lively picture of the evils of the period, the Pope added that, after serious consideration and much counsel with his brethren the bishops and other prudent men upon tl)(> wants of the time, he had come to the conclusion that "general measures for the good of the Church being caii^ 1 for, ho had resolved^ to convoke, according to the old custom, a general council." And then, putting the whole Church in motion to prepare for the coming council, the Pontiff adds : " We have, therefore charged prudent men in the different provinces to investigate whatever ought to be submitted for correction to our apostolic authority." Then recommending all to prepare for the council, he says : " Examine, then, by yourselves, or by help of prudent men, all that seems to require correction or reform, and carefully note it, to submit it in due course to the examination of the council. For the greater the dangers, the more urgent the need of powerful remedies." And when, on the threshold of modern times. Protestantism had rent the Church as it had never been rent before, what did Paul the Third consider to be the best measure in that supreme crisis ? Again the General Council. " It is," said the Pope, "the remedy in greatest perils :" and he convened that im- mortal Council of Trent, which, in spite of the opposition it had to contend with, has cast so brilliant a light upon all the dogmas that Protestantism sought to obscure, and has been for the Church the starting-point of one of the greatest movements of Christian life which have ever been produced. Since the Council of Trent, that is for the last three cen- turies, the world has seen no general council; and yet, during that period events of immense importance, the philosophism of the eighteenth century, the French Revolution, the rationalism of our own day, besides changes in the political, social, and re- ligious order, deeper than even those of the sixteenth century, have come to pass in the world, and render the convocation of a general council more necessary than, perhaps, at any other time. It is manifest, and the searching eye of St. Peter's sue- OM iHK m:xt (.knkkal council. 441 ber. Par- i weight." and adds : unite our our shoul- locent the ar 1st No- 7m Domini \y assailtvl len, after the Pope msel with upon tli(> "general 3r, ho had a general motion to We have, •vinces to rection to prepare ves, or by •ection or rse to the igers, the estantism what did 1 supreme ^he Pope, that im- on it had e dogmas I for the sments of bree cen- t, during phisni of tionaliam , and re- century, cation of ny other ier's sue- cessor has seen it, that we have at this day a state of f eelinff of liabi . of society, in a word, an entire condition of thwf ' so novel and without paraUel in history, as to render it Spen^ What an immense stride infidelity has made since the six toenth century! What a fall has bL thaTof Protestantism into rationahsm, and from nationalism into aU thf waSZ *r i-r'^ ^^y ^^^«l^- the denial of God, of the soul of the life to come, of reason as well as of faith of all ruths, in fine, which are the basis of all religion, of all moral, ty, and of all society : and this in the name of modern science r.K l^-"''^ '° ^^^^^''^y ^^^°^^d ^t *t« Pr^^ent hour on be- half of atheism, pantheism, and materialism ' nvnl r 1 ""^^7 ^'''''^'- '^^',^ 'complicated, delicate, and deep pioblems have been raised by modern doctrines, political and economical, and above all by very serious social questions, and carried throughout by the press-the press, thlt formidable power of modern times, which our fathers knew not! And concermng each of these problems, what confusion of ideas what errors what sophisms, what unhappy mistakes ! What a mingling of truth and falsehood, of good and evil in the theories ot the day ; and what uncertainty in men's minds as to the real bearing of Catholic teachmg on these theories, and to the neces- sary or possible attitude of the Church to the present state of ''°''l^ ^r .^ ""^ ^'^'^K important it is to cast fullest light upon each of these points for all men of good wiU, te sunder between the true and the false, the good and the bad, to separate the precious from the vile, as the Scripture says; and how it is worthy of the Sovereign Pontiff to convoke for this purpose the bishops of all countries who are in daily contact, or in unceasing warfare with the ideas which are to be cleared up, condemned, or extolled ! ^ ' And, as touching the inner and outer life of the Church ho^v many questions of capital interest will have to be studied oy the Jiishops m Council, as well concerning the necessary de- velopment of sacred learning in all its branches, seeing that the defence of Christianity and theology have bearings on all the sciences, as also concerning ecclesiastical law, which may, per- haps, be modified in some of its earlier decisions, as also in what concerns discipline, the pastoral ministry, and works of zeal: ..- — -..-..,..! ...v vxic iouuUi auu vuu uonour or tuat Uiinatian priesthood, secular or regular, which is devoted to the triple apostleship of truth, of charity, and of holiness. The Holy ■ -"-^ -11 » ^ 442 THE BISHOP OF ORLEANS Father has, therefore announced a General CouncU, and in what calm and noble words : h,.ll7^^r ^""^^ long entertained a project, which circumstances have made know, to several of the venerable brethren, and to which we hope to give «5r*;V^^°°° as the desired occasion shall arrive; namely, to holl a sacred (Ecumenical and General Council of all the bishops of^the Catholic Z.il ^hich with the help of God, by union of deliberate and careful counsel, such wholesome remedies may be applied as are needed, especially ^«nfN T""^ evils weighing upon the Church The result of this as we §IrknL«^F'' ""''"• ^^ ,*^\* the light of Catholic truth will dissipate the W 1?p!^ °li!1 I'"'^u'"''^l «°"^' ^""^ ^^-^P*' ^'^d «hed abroad its salu- f^l^w ft ; ^ ^^""^ V ^\^ ^'^ °^ '^'^'"^ race, they may discern and J^"o;!^,*he true way of righteousness a«d salvation. As a further result IfforS nrL""^"""' • ' 'r ^r ^^'"y ««* >° ^^^y-' ^^n ^eat back the host ; tm ^vfl 1 /"T'l^'.u'"''^. ^^'^'' °"«^*' ^"'1 in her triumph over them Tf the earth." "^ '''^" ° "^''"' ^''"'* °^'" *^'" '^"S*"' ^"^^ '^''^^'Ith And, in a second allocution to the Bishops, returning- upon this great idea, the Holy Father has lovingly cono-ratu- lated us on o ^ o That common desire of a General Council, and because we all judged it to be not only extremely useful at present (pcmtile), buteven necessary (n^^marmm). The divine power of the Church, added he, is then especially potent, when the bishops convoked by the Sovereign Pontiff, and presided over by him, assemble in the name of the Lord to treat of the affairs of the Church." It is, in truth, in a general council that the power and majesty of the Church are beheld in all their vigour. It is there that she appears truly, as the Holy Father describes her, like an army set m array, when, with Peter at her head, with hor bishops ranged around the chair of truth, with Jesus uhrist, her invisible Head, in her midst, and with the Spirit of Holiness and Light shedding His influence upon the assembly, she proclaims the truth, she confounds error, she scatters that deceitful science that lifts itself up against the science of God • and when after having given light to the intellect, she endea- vours to enkindle charity in the heart, and prepare the way for peace-makmg, for union, for returns to harmony. Such is the beautiful and noble design of the Holy Father. And what adds to the grandeur of the undertaking is the I'ontilfs courage and faith, and his magnanimous hope. No labour deters his fresh old age or his great soul. And what are years to him who has the future for his own ? The Pope never dies. And what matter about the threats of the angry revolu- tion ? Against this Peter, against this rock, the waves shall be brokf No doubt the enterprise is as bold as it is noble. For, after ON THE NEXT GENERAL COUNCIL. 44a nd in what s have made hope to give , to hold a the Catholic I and careful d, especially this, as we dissipate the road its salu- discern and rther result, i the hostile h over them and breadth returning' congratu- dged it to be lU'censarhim), nt, when the lim, assemble lower and )ur. It is tribes her, lead, with ith Jesus 3 Spirit of assembly, itters that 3 of God ; ihe endea- e way for uch is the ing is the lope. No I what are ope never [■y revolu- !S shall be For, after all, is not the Pope hemmed in by fire and sword ? And, no matter how great the honour, the devotion, and the bravery of that noble pontifical army which we have seen applauded by the people of Rome, and by the Catholic pilgrims of the universe, can it do everything? Besides, in the midst of so much covetousness, so much meanness, and so much violence, what will become to-morrow of Europe and of the peace of the world ? And yet, it is in this state of things, and amid such perils, that the Pope, with a calm and sure glance around and towards the future, has said : *' The Holy See is threatened ; the world is troubled, uncertain, restless: no matter; the Church will achieve its task ;" and, addressing himself to his brethren, and to his sons, the bishops of the entire world : " Come," he says, "I await you, and here, at Rome, we will work together for the salvation of the world." At this announcement of a General Council, the bishops, moved by the magnitude of the undertaking and by the august calmness of the Pontiff, were filled with a sudden joy ; and, blessing God for the incalculable blessings which such a design promised for the future, they replied : " It is with an extensive joy of soul that we have heard from your lips the profound design you have in contemplation in the midst of so many present penis of convokmg a general council, ' the most powerful remedy that canhe em- ployed,^ said your predecessor Paul the Third, 'in thegreateM ptrilsof theChristian world. May God prosper this design which He himself has inspired, and may the men of our day, so weak in faith, ever seeking and never finding the truth, carried about by every wind of doctrine, find at least in this holy Council a new and favourable opportunity of drawing near the holy Church which is the pillar and whole ground of truth ; may they come to know the true faith, the source of salvation, and to reject the errors that are leading them to their ruin, and inay this general assembly of the Catholic Episcopate become, with God s help, and the prayers of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, a great work of unity, of sanctification, and of peace-making, which will procure for the Church a new splendour and a new triumph for God's Kingdom." The Council will then be held, and held at Rome, and ihe Holy Father, in his reply, has announced that, to satisfy the general desire, it shall be opened on the glorious festival of the Immaculate Conception of Mary. By aid of the modern easy means of locomotion, the bishops Avill assemble in large numbers, and from regions more remote and various than in any council held in past times. At Trent there were three hundred Bishops, and yesterday, at Rome, wo were five hundred. At Chalccdon, which was the largest of the ancient councils, there were six hundred, but they were almost ail Orientals. At the coming council you will have the East and the South and the North, the three continents of the Old t\ 444 Tii.J msiIOP OF ORLEANS 1:1 i iiii m § h I r ii' pi I World and the two Americas, with the bishops of the Indies, ot China, and from the most remote isles of the ocean : in such wise as that this senate of the Catholic Church, com- posed of the aged men who rule all the Churches of the world, under every latitude and beneath every sky, shall be the most complete representation of the Church which has ever been seen. ir. ^'^f' T^.f ^ ''°"^*^ '^^% ^?P*' ^"^ ^"'^ «^ assembly to be compared to that of these men, of these Bishops ? Gathered from every spot of earth they will represent not only the Church ; thev also will be, by their experience and learning, by their gravitV and their virtues, the worthiest representatives of the human race itself and even from the mere human point of view, assuredly tlie highest moral authority which exists upon the earth Who can foresee how much light and truth such an assembly, so mature in deliberation, so authoritative in judgment shall pour out upon the world, together with a powerful and fruitful impulse to virtue ? I have seen the bishops of the various parts of Europe con- gratiilate each other, and consider the future Council as the grandest and happiest effort the Church can make to enlighten minds and soften hearts, to bring back sincere souls now led astray by error or oy fatal mistakes, to do good to society as well as to the Church. ^ I have seen the bishops of the two Americas already salute the great stream of Catholic life which this direct andproloneed communication with the Holy See and with the bishops of the old continents cannot but put in motion both in the young and in the old churches of the New World. I have seen the Oriental bishops especially glowing with a holy hope ; already they seem to behold the old Christian churches of the East once more animated by the breath of life breathed upon them by the Council. And this is not their only iiope. Already, for some time past, a secret travail is takincr place in the depths of the East ; the separated Churches have begun to feel what their misfortunes ought to have Ion? since brought home to them, that in cutting themselves o§ from unity they have cut themselves off from the principle ot life, and that there is no second birth for them until they return to the Chair of Peter, to the Mother uid Mis- tress of all the Churches. This feeling, very lively in some, IS as yet confused in others ; and who can tell how much a Council may foster it, and what a splendid lesson it may tea. a the Oriental Churches against the schism which has been so laral lo ihem. On I it it were given to the Council of the nineteenth century to accomplish at Eome the work ON THE NEXT GENERAL COUNCIL. 445 the Indies, 5 ocean ; in urch, com- bes of the :y, shall be ch has ever >e compared from every urch; they leir gravity the human t of view, s upon the th such an judgment, vverful and urope con- ncil as the • enlighten Is now led society as lady salute prolonged ops of the young and 'ng with a Christian ith of life their only ' is taking 'ches have long since off from principle lem until and Mis- lively in low much m it may 'hich has Council of ;he work that was once essayed at Florence; and if our age sad- dened by so many sorrows, were destined to behold this ereat restoration! 6»o«i, And shall I here tell all my hopes ? Protestantism, as everv- one knows, is stricken with a malady inherent in its very prin- ciple which on one side impels it, as Bossuet foretold and we ourselves are witnesses, towards rationalism the most anti- thristian, and on the other side tears and dissolves it bv count- less divisions. Such Protestants as are yet Christians struffde in vain against the torrent that carries them along : thev feel the need of unity, and are searching for what is its necessary principle. We know that especially in England many sinceri men are in this state of mind, and sigh after union. Is it then presumption to think that this great specta-le of livinj? unity speaking in a council of the Universal Church, will brino- lieht to their eyes, and that there, perhaps, their final difiicultie^'s shall disappear before a simple and luminous exposition o. r'ae true faith .-^ May God hear our prayers, and do you, our separated brethren, come at length and throw yourselves into our arms open, now three centuries, to receive you ! And is this all we hope for ? No. At this moment, when all the churches of the worid represented by five hundred bishops, surround our com- mon J^ ather, there is one endeared to us among all, by its fidelity Its heroism, and its sorrows, which we do not see here. V) beloved Church of Poland, in vain have we sought for even one of your bishops, that we might kiss his hand as we would the hand ot a martyr. JNot one of them was there. And why ? Are thev in those regions of exile from which no one ever returns >- Was itfeared tliat they might move with too much sorrow the gentle Pontife by letting him see the evils which thou art sufEer- ing .'' -But who IS there under the sun who knows not the sad i'^ ^^T \.- ^] "^^^"^ "^'^^ ^^^y <^^^«^ t^eir cruel attempts to tear thee bleeding from the bosom of the Roman Church, thy mother U Poland, as well as ours ! At least when the council comes' may thy bishops too be there, by our side, to labour with us for the coming of God's Kingdom in the world, and for the, some- times tardy, triumphs of truth and justice ! T v^° ?!^iP^*®' *^®"' *^^ ^^^0^8 of the day, to throw the clear light of Christian tradition and of Catholic learning upon the great questions at present obscured by such thick darkness • to rekindle in the bosom of the Church the glowing fire of charity and devotedness, to bring into action all its living strength and send a new breath of holy life from one extremity of this great body to the other : to rpmnvp iha rrTnii-nAa f^f A:r.r. A a- J -^ -- ration by clearing up what is obscure, and by correcting mis- ^!- i 446 THE BISHOP OP ORLEANS If ' ill' ImMI I' i: li' apprehensions, and thereby to prepare the way happily for many a return to unity : to achieve, in one word, a gr'ac wo. . of en- lightenment and of peace-making— who woul 1 r.ol unp] .udsuch an effort of the Catholic Church ? And ii. .^here bay govern- ment, any statesman worthy of the name, ? ,t tc ay liberal, but sensible and honest, who could take the ledsi U". age at it, or raise up obstacles to hinder it ? No ! I call the conscience of the world to wfti( 9^' : when, in an age like ours, afflicted by so many errors, . . 1 • ■ .laced by so IT. any storms, the Church holds a Council, that is to say, when the Church sets herself to bring into the world a larger stock cl truth and charity and holiness, she is not conspiring against anyone or against anything, but cgainst evil ; she is engaged m a work which affects society as much as it affects Catholicism ; she is toiling for governments and for nations as well as for herself ; on behalf of peace, of universal concord ; to strenghten the foundation of the social order, which is shaken ; for the wc/ld's true progress ; and all rulers and nations should bless her for her work. In tl name, then, of the interests of Europe and of the world, as well as of the interest of Catholicism, in the name of modern principles as well as of every right, let the Church bo allowed to come together and deliberate, and hold her Council in all libcx .;y and security here at Rome, in her own seat, in the centre of peace and ol glory ; and even if, which God forbid ! even if those evils we would avert should fall upon the world, even if the errors of the day, giving birth to the calamities they are big with, should once again throw the nations into the bloody conflicts of revolutions and of wars, it would be well that governments and nations should keep the Church in peace, in the midst of the tempests of the world, imder their common protectorate, in order that there might be on the earth at least one spot reserved where aged men gathered from all parts of the world may together seek in sacred learning, in meditation, and in prayer, far froi". the passions of men, those better lights which the world needs, uaa which alone will bring those who are now divided to understand each other, and to enter once more through the truth to justice and to peace. gentle av^ sainted Pontiff ! with those enlightened eyes of the heart of which Scripture speaks, you have discovered the true remedy for the evils of the day, and with that power and courage which you hide beneath your meekness and your sweetness, you had confidence enough in God and man to un- dertake this most laborious but mighty work, which may result in the peaceful triumph of the Church, and the salvation of this .f, I .Ml I Itii pilv for many c woi'iv of en- upp] .udsuch I nay govem- f-ay liberal, lahiage at it, 388 : when, in ' aaced by so to say, when larger stock Ting against e is engaged 8 it affects or nations as sal concord ; ih is shaken ; itions should i and of the the name of e Church bo her Council seat, in the jTod forbid ! 1 the world, e calamities ons into the lid be well 5h in peace, eir common :th at least ill parts of meditation, etter lights those who enter once itened eyes discovered that power 3 and your nan to un- may result ion of this A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MDRE OP ST. ENDA. nl 447 century; may you he blessed for it for evert Ti'i already bear upon your venerable brow the tril a„?' , ^? °"' labours, your virtues, and yoursorroVs thL.ln ^K^^^^^^ been enough to win for you for evermore A ^^°^",r^^^ ^ave admiration; and we trult nXor qZ lor V"""^^^ F^^'^'^ Henceforth, from this hour til / f ^^" ^^^^ ^ail you. whole Church wShlaLurn;ii-i'' '''''''"^ ^^" occupy the with a holy hope ,andirthis;^^^^^ 'f ^^^ ^^ ^" W aU you have already done for G^d^nn^ T'^' '^^^^^ ^^^^P^^tes perhaps, reserved tL cTnsoTatiS^t^^^^^^ ''f' ^^^^^^^ and glorious Pontificate! '^'^"'''^ °^ J^ur long A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. On a summer's day some fourteen hundred years a^o Sf V a o± Aran, as his ancient life tells us hr^JiV^^l ^ ' ^** "^^^a harbour where Lough Corrib ioinsfl^ / *¥ '^°"^ ^^ ^^^ the fishermen who tfen p Ld hdr craf 1 1 0.7^ " S"T^ °^ a summer's day in the pLent Ta^'from t£ J'^ ^^^ .^^ our saint had prayed we set sail fn vi.-f ^ * ^ ^^^^ spot where the remote ArL,^whir Ss vTrh,p .T^' '? "^^.^^'^ reverence, isle into Aran of 'tL Saint I^d as til'^'f? ^"'"^ " ^^^^^ slowly over the waterrthat lay^most^nf i* ^-'"T ^^^^ «« calm, we gazed with aimtt'L ^^^^^^^^ TslZeZ^l^'^Vr'^'' Its larger outlines, was but little cWeTsLo St Fn^'' '^ his pilgrim band had first iooke-' unon it P T ^^^ ^"^ stretched out the same exnansp nf f I' • '^''^ '"^ ^^^^^ lay fhe dark plains of laTconnaSt .In. ^l^"f ^/^ one side by from the ^hite cliffs of'^rrn^tNt^r^eThr^^^^^^^^ ''^^'^ tarns, in soft blue masses stood ni,f ,V.T ^f ^^V^^^emara moun- the sky. On the other side ran Te Sa^et^ Sin'"*^" ^^^^^^ mg before the deep-sea inlets n^J ^!f i? .• ^' """^^ ^^^reat- gigantic cliffs like those of Mohir. A^d Js 7hr^ f ' °i" ""'^^ we watched the evening breeze steal tTf i ^f^ ''l''^^^' and water into wavelets thS n™ f ^,fJ?^ ^fisping the ^. 1 J nppied against iiie vesseFs •Colgan, ActaSS., p. 709, n.25. -•}0 U6 A VISIT TO THE AKAN-IMOKE OF ST. ENDA. II ir side ; and as we saw the golden glory of the sunset flush with indescribable loveliness, earth, and sea, and sky, we thought how often in bygone days, the view of Aran rising, as we then saw it, out of the sunlit waves, had brought joy to the pilgrim who was journeying to find rest upon its rocky shore : "And as I view the line of light that plays Along the smooth waves, towards the burning west, I long to tread that golden path of rays, And think 'twill lead to some bright isle of rest." It was some such thoughts as these that stirred St. Enda's heart when he cried out that Aran was to be the place of his resurrection, where, in his flesh, he was to look upon the face of his God ; it was through some such feeling that St. Columba, after lavishing upon the Aran of his soul every term of endear- ment, crowned at length his praise by calling it the " Rome of the pilgrim."* The Aran Isles are three in number, named respectively, Inishmore (the large island), Inishmain (the middle island), and Inisheen (the eastern island). The eastern island is the smallest of the three, and is about two and a-half miles long ; the middle island is three miles long ; the largest is about nine miles in length, and twenty-four in circumference. The entire group contains about 11,288 acres, of which only 742 are productive. Geologically considered, the islands belong to the upper division of carboniferous limestone. Mention is made of Aran at a very early period of Irish history. The most authoritative of our ancient Irish MSS. relate that after the great battle of Moytura, on the shores of Loughs Corrib and Mask, in which the Fir- bolgs or Belgae, after four days' fighting, were defeated by the Tuatha de Dannan, a portion of the Belgae crossed over to Aran, where as in an impregnable stronghold, they established themselves about the beginning of the Christian era. One of their leaders was Engus Mac Uathmore, after whom the great fort or dun on Inishmore was named. About the year of our Lord 480, the island was inhabited by infldels from Corcomroe, the adjacent part of Clare. About that date, St. Enda received the island by the donation of Engus, King of Munster, whose wife, Darenia, was St. Enda's own sister. The pagans were converted to Christianity, or quitted the island, which, under St. Enda, soon became one of the great Christian sanctuaries of the west of Europe. The Annals of the Four Masters tell of a great conflagration at Aran in the year 1020, and of the devas- taticii wrought there by the Normans or Danes in the year 1081. • See infra, St. Columba's "Farewell to Aran." A Vtsrr TO THK AKAN-MORE OP ST. KNDA. 449 At a later period it was hold hv th^ o'n • whom, commonly called Mac Tei-oO'R -^^r*"""' ^^^« ^^ad of atAjrcinor Arkin, on the Vreat ishnJ^^^^n^ expelled in their turn by the O'F "hZ, The O'Briens were dispossessed by Queen Mizubeth undo?^'V'''^*'V^-^^"' ^^^^ Azrkm was erected in 1587 on tho ^^^^ T^'" *^« ^^^^le of O'Briens. Elizabeth gave the tL] /^*^" 't^'''^^ ot the whose hands it passed fnto tie pssi^^ Ransom, from of Galway. In CromweP's time th?s ^o.f^ ' ^^^""^ ^J^ch. j.nd a strong fort erected .n itTp Lee of I'T /""^^^ d«^"' have occasion to speak further on Tn T^ ^f^ *°"* ^^« «taU he Irish landed fere in boa ^flyingfr^^'^S^^^^ ^'^\ ^00 of land, and were speedily followed bv 1 ^fT YH^ ?'' *^^ "^^^ with a battery. The Irish surJender^ed ami ? S%^^^"^^''«h f^ot, been declared a traitor, Erasmus Sm^h T^ '^'' ^- ^^"'^ ^^^ing This crafty undertaker disposed oTh\T' ^'^'^"^ «^ ^ran^ one of whom, in 1662, mTc Led FnH Tl'" *^^ ^"^^^'^^ ^utlers the islands passed thi^u.h Ihe f/T-'/^^"^ ^^^^ J^^gbys,* who are the present owners ^^^^^P^tncks to the Iho present inhabitants, about *,S 4nn • belong to the race that inhabit the south w '? ^"^^^^' ^^^nly land. In-their character they exhi Wt ^1 T^'''' • P"^*« «^ I^e- ^he action of the Catholic Sinn ^"^ beautiful results of intellect and great sens bi itv ^n/P"" • ^ '^'''^' gifted with fine that religi /^: exen's^S^^^^^^^^^^ -^.-h allow Their simple Catholic faith, so nure I f % f^ influence, 's crowned in them with th; crown ;>f 1 ?^''' , ""^ '^ ^^^^^nt. courteous, handsome, and am able peopltr^'^- 7^^^^ ^^^ ^ manner and a delicacy of sentiment ?!v I ^ "" refinement of bghted us. Their high inS Z" tL '^ '?"^'^^^ ^°d de- ness to oblige; the total abefce 5 tt S^^^^^-^/^ured readi- ^han their erect and gracefuf carrll ^'''? ^* ^^^'°' ^^ ^ess something of which we hnd w Tf ^^' ™^'^^d them out as cheerfuhfitness^fthTatu^yonrfS '^^ ^-■ social state given by Dr. Petri J: f *^"°^^°g account of their • Sec Ordnance Survey MSS.. R I A T;i, n , we 450 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. They are a brave and hardy racp, indiistrioua and onternriainff ; as is suliiciently evinced, not only by the daily increasing numbor of their fishing vessels, the barren rocks whicli they are covering with soil, and making pro- .luctive, bnt stdl more by the frefjuency of their emigration from their beloved country and Irieuds to a distant wilderness, led solely by the hope that their nulefatiga ble labour may be employed there to the greater ultimate benefit of their families. " They are simple and innocent, but niso thoughtful and intelligent, credu- lous, and in matters of faith, what persons of a ditlcreut creed would call superstitious. . . . . Lying and drinking— che vices which Arthur Young con- siders as appertaining to the Irish character-form, at least, no part of it in Aran, for happily their common poverty holds out less temptation to the one or opportunity for tlio other. " 1 do not mean to say that they are rigidly temperate, or that instances of excess, followed by the usual Irish consequences of broken heads, do not occasionaly occur: such could not be exj ;cted when their convivial tempera- ment, and dangerous and laborious occupations are remembered. They never swear, and they have a high sense of decency and i)ropriety, honour and justice. In appearance they are healthy, comely, and prepossessing ; in their dress (with few exceptions), clean and eomfortal)le ; in manner serious, yet cheerful, and easily excited to gaiety ; frank and familiar in conversation, and to straneers polite and respecttul ; but at the same time wholly free from servile adulation. I hey are communicative, but not too loquacious ; iiKuiisitive after information, but delicate in seeking it, and grateful for its communication. "If the inhabitants of the Aran Islands could be considered as a fair speci- men of the .ancient and present wild Irish-the veriest savages in the globe, as the learned Pinkerton calls them— those whom chaiic(> has le.l to their hospitable (lliores, to admire tlieir simple virtues, would be likely to regret that the blessings of civilisation had ever been extended to jiny portion of this very wretched country. ' Though poor, the Arancrs arc not oxpcsed to crushing want. The pereunial harvest of the sea supplies these hardy fishermen with abundance of food ; their untiring industry covers the barren rock witli a scanty crop ; their cattle are eagerly sought after in the markets of the mainland, and wo believe that still, as in O'Flaherty's time, the young men are accustomed to go down, with ropes tied about them, into the caves of the clills to kill the wild birds tliat love to make their homo therein.* Nor is the samphire-gatherer's perilous trade unknown to them. In add'tion, they expc!-t great (luantities of kelp, to be used in the manufacture of iodine. We landed on Inishmore, at the little village of Kilronan, about thirty miles distant from Galway, and, after some rest! set out towards the south-west coast to visit tli , ii-'erful fort of Engus. Having gained the low hill that commau/.s the vil- lage, we halted to contemplate the weird and dun landscape that, surrounded us. It was a landscape peculiar to Aran. Th(! ishmd falls from the south-west, facin. it and north ; and from the vantage-ground on which wo aiood, the eye travarsed • O'Flaherty's "lar Connaught," p. 09, iiilLaa. A VISIT T„ r„p, ARAN-MOHE OP ST, BNDA. 4,J1 htooTsaS;' vX'tSnV^'"'? "- -« ■•>"> .l.ut had originally u.SkTJtlS.tii^r''"" "' *^ '"'='= " But here, above, around, below. oi auglit of vegetative power, liie weary eye may ken ; i-or all m rocks at random thrown. JJleak waves, hare crags, and banks of stone." sheets and tables of one ^^1-' ^"*. ^^'^^ing into irnmonse as polished inarblean^'i;^^^^^^^ '''''7. ^T' ^''''^' ^' «"'««th metallic ring. Ii' o nf n ^^ /i ''"""'''l^ ^^'" ^''^''^'^ " ««"«rous .stone overlapping sl^newi^hrnr'"' '^''^'t ^''■'^ '''' ^'P«^ *>-• form, which rom"nd;Hvnirity of nmss and Land's. W nd^' and o,?t a^ '^'^'^T^y P'"Iccl by giant fresh grooTi Cfe. "co dd 1 I " ^^'^'"'^^'"'^"^^•'-- . - tliread of the hin side, up s,?Hn.? n^^ Z T^ '"'''P^^^^^"'"' ^<^ traced along rooks had leftl I^; Sfs w^, ", "'^^"^^^ ^^^Y^"- «* <1- of verdure, in whi(-h ^Wld Zw f' '"'"'^"'V"^ "^^« ^ P'^tch luxurianceWain^^^tg^y^r-Z V^ '"'?' ^' ^^^"'"^^ ^^ stones crossed each other n anf ;„f ?'"^'"'^"''V"^ «^ ^"«'^« until it seemed as if bo?) ?ocks n/ve'^d"""'' '°""'^''^" ^J^^^'^^'^' an injn network of most i^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^ ^ with loftof tlS^li/Sltt^SK^i'"^' '^^j^ ^^^ ^^"«^*° *^« -b-gious ost.d3lisWrts 'rre'rcIS' '^t^;" ^' ^V ^'"''^^'I^'^' Araners engaged in 'mtlu-iZth^V I ^'"''^'^ '' ^^°"P «^ of tearing m, the cim W " ^^'\^'^'l^''M the simple process we remarked at h^Jl -J""'- , ^" ''^^''' '''^^^ '^ t^e road memory of the d ead itv TT"^"' ^'.«"'""«"<« ^•^■"^^d to the in gro.^>s, almofjt e^^^l;:!:^;^^^'?^^' --times cocsstnjjof asnTIJ.l•nn,•l.^nf• ..; '^""^ Y ^^^^ "y the cross, and A rude cornice ^.Ct^/ ^ T"'^' ';^^""* ''''''' ^''^ '" ^^^^'S^^. two .ort^on ho ur ^ "V'T ^^" ^fP' '^ ^ '^^^ ^^^^"^ ^^to ff I 452 A VISIT TO THE AUAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. IS iiil momiments of prayer by the wayside, that all who passed by chfrit ^^ ^^^ faithful departed the suii'rages of their Leaving the road at a point where a sudden fault in the dark rocks allows the waves to wash a narrow strip of beach covered with sand of pearly whiteness, we crossed the fields towards the Hill upon which Dun Engus stands. On reaching the south- west coast we descended through an opening in the tall cliffs, down to the water-line, where the Atlantic was surging heavily against the solid rock. What a scene lay before us ! On the one hand the cliffs rose sheer from the water with surfaces seamed, and scarred, and torn by the tremendous violence of the bi lows driven in upon them by centuries of winter tempests. At our tect the waves were breaking on the lowest shelf of rock, leaving uncovered (it ^vas low tide) a hard ledge honeycombed by the water into countless cavities, some deep, where lived the richly-coloured sea-anemones and other wonders of the shore, others shallow, from which we gathered handfuls of salt, extracted from the brine by the fierce heat of the sun. On the right, a sudden turn brought us to where the rocks rose into a noble arch ovhich recalled forcibly to our mind ogo of the arches in the lemple of Peace in the Eoman Forum), spanning a polished pavement, m the middle of which a pool of water azure blue, carried from the sea through subterranean conduits, rose and tell within a basm, hewn, as if by hands, in the living rock. On climbmg the almost vertical escarpment at the opening of this grotto we found a second ledge of rock some thirty feet in breadth, over which, at high water, the waves rush to dash themselves against a still higher range of precipitous cliffs. On the summit of this range the soft grass grows to the very brink. Ihis height commands a sea prospect which is said to be one of the noblest m the worid. The vast Atlantic stretching illimitablv towards the south and west, the extensive coasts of Kerry and blare, with headlands and lofty mountains, and islands far off in sight, must be seen in the calm, bright sunshine, as we saw them, in order to form any idea of the sublimity and beauty of Crowning the cliff, where it rises precipitously from the sea some three hundred and two feet, stands the fort of Dun Engus tlie finest specimen of a barbaric fortress now existing in Europe' or perhaps in the world. We approached it, not from the land side, but by a route skirting the edge of the cliff, and we shall endeavour to describe each portion of it in the order in which it act^ially fell under our notice. First, we came upon a dry stone wall, an irregular ellipse in form, which, in its entire circuit irom clitt to chlF, encloses a space of about eleven acres. This A VISIT TO THE ARAX-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 453 wall 18 very much injured, and is the outermost of the three Tftir 7^ V ^'"'r^l^ '^\^'''- ^^ ^^« ^"^1* in two dTvisions after a fashion which we shaU describe in treating of the ?wo ^ner walls. At a considerable distance from this outemS wall we came upon an army of white sharp-pointed sioneTse dopewise m the earth, reaching all rounS Last high save where a narrow avenue was left. This belt runs all round the TfHsr of ^n^ ^"7^f^,*\^. Purpose of an abbat^s or the cLrmx TovmlhuTJ ^«S'^'^^'^,"'' ""'^ "^"^^ ^^^^ proved a most tormidable defence. No assailing party could pos,5blv approach ts raX hTP''*' f^P^through the' avenue, withoutCng of rod. IW '71 disordered by its thick and intricate pile*^ Serp ; n P"*^^^^^^^ '^^'^■'["■>' ^''''^^■^ and the second rampart there is a fragment of another wall, about seven feet in height line of aefence. This second interior defence consists of a cyclo- TboutTh Irr't"? f'/''' ?^^^* ^' ^^^^^"^- distances, bdng the cliff ^; 7 ^!'i ^''*''^* ^^""^ i* ^* t^^ ^^«tern sid^ near ihouf? '^yd about forty-two on the north-western side. It is w.n is b^.-ft ?^''' ""^^ '^?^^" ^^^^' ^^d, like the outermost mmmrt tbp '"^ t^^« concentric divisions. Within this second lTn\ ^^ T'^ *" ^.^^ """^'^^ fortiHcation is clear. The centiai fortification consists of an immense oval wall, composed coat^ of '"'' ^'^"\^."? "P '^g-in«t each other, like ihe several coats of an onion, which arrangement occurs also in the two o^emost enclosures, and in the other fortresses of the same stand wbtjb ""V^'"''^''"- ^* ^''''' ^« difficult to under- stand why the walls were constructed thus in layers and not in '^t^TS^' f'^ *^"' peculiarity is explained by the principle on which these fortresses are constructedf which is thus descrikS >^-w-!i- IFT' ?' exemplified in the Staigue fort in Kerry :-- i\.Zi *^^, (enclosure), at about six feet from the surface, the thickness of the wall is diminished by one-third, so as to leave a circular ledge, or ferre-pHne, of five or six feet in width! pro- jecting all round. This ledge is reached by flights of stairs on he inner face of the wall. At a height of fiVe or six feet higher another contraction of the thickness of the rampart takes place leaving a hke ridge, or shelf of masonry, approached in like' manner by stops from the former, and s;rving as a kind of banqnetfe* to the parapet formed by the remaining height of the parapet. An arrangement in the building, exhibiting a good * Bnmpiftfr, in modern fortification, is a little raiserl vviv or fnnt^n^t «Z' Stn'e^ *t T'' "^/ P--P«S- -»-h the '^e^s ZlTt^t upon tne enemy, in the moat or covered way Enq/c. 4o4 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MOKE OF ST. EN DA. ( i f^ 5 Ui ■ ! : ;,. 1 ' ' ;! :; :|l 1 i ) '■ deal of mmtary contrivance, is made subservient to the forma- tion ot these internal stages. Instead of building the rampart vaZn^ fW ^ • ^^^^'^^^r '^ f °^^°y concentric independent walls as they designed to have banquettes; so that if an enemy should succeed m breaching the external envelope, he would find immediately behind it a new face of masonry, instead of the easily-disturbed loose interior of a dry stone wall "* ^ The greatest height of this triple wall at present is about tMck Vri; '^; ^^-^'i'r-n of the wall is Lut three feet thick , the second or central about five ; and the external about four ; giving m all a otal thickness of about twelve feet. The height of the inner division at present is not more than seven eet. The entire central fort from the north side of the ring to tho cliff measures one hundred and fifty feet, and alono- the cliff from wall to wall west to east, one hundred 'and foi ty¥et! On he north-west side of the ring there is a passage leading from the mside into the thickness of the wall, about five feet S width, and four feet high from the bottom to the roof, where S IS covered by large stones, placed horizontally. This was pro- bably an apartment for the use of some of the gariTson ^ A f:^:L7:lci:^lir'' "^"' ^^°^^' -'"^^ -^^^^ «^'^^^- nonT^® ^T\^'' the keep is in the north-eastern side, and is nearly perfect resembling m its form that of the earlier churches. It IS so much blocked up by the loose stones which have fallen an7w« tI f ^^ '"T S«^P^11^^1 to enter on our hands and knees. The traces of stairs are still to be distinguished amid the rum that has been brought upon the walls W the wmter blasts, and by the hand of man.' The course of the f^^^>>f'''f\ especially along a portion of the eastern side, may be quite plainly discerned. ^ The stones of which the walls are built are large and small thelarge being employed in the outside, the smaU within In no mstance did we observe huge blocks like those employed in the so-ca led Cyclopean walls throughout Italy, such as wi have admired in the walls of the ancient Tusculum^' Indeed. Tn some ot the Christian temples on the island we found blocks much la^er tnan any we could perceive in the ramparts of the Pagan Standing on the square blocks of stone which occupy portion tl at tboT .1 '\" ^^^^^^ /^^ '^'^ l««ked in vain for som? proof that the fort had originally been a complete oval. Nor have we • Duhlin University Mar/a-.iiie. January, 1853, pp. 92-93. A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. i.j.j Iharrr'''"''^ ^^ T^ reasoning that has since come in our way that It ever was oval. It is true that the Aran islands and otier places in Ireland exhibit frequent instances of round or oval fortresses of the class to which Dun Engus belongs a niar example being that of Dun Connor, on the middle isknd whfch measures from north to south no less than two hundred and bZSThTcHff- ^^^^--^ffi-ltforone standbg on tSe mZ nn ^ ^^^*^;^?^ scanning the small extent of the change rhplW^rr'^'^'^^r'T^^^^^^^^^^^t^^ i^i^torical period! rnllTu ""^ T' ^""^^^^ «^^ *^% fee<^ of tl^e living solid rock had been eaten away by the action of the waves for do tirforTressTi^ -eight to the argument that unle" we adml? the fortress to have been oval it would have been left defenceless for a space of above a hundred feet. Surely, a sheer 01?^^'^ deZo^ '"" V^' ^"^^* '^ '^''' hundred' and two feet was f ff i^ r -"^^/^^'^'^ "^^T^"''^^ *^^^ ^'^^Id be brought up aescribes Dun Engus as a monkish manclra, furnishes a print in he m^nkt Ti^ " '^' -'-'^ '°"P^f ^' ^^* '^' -^^ern hLes S hadTdtvfnl? 7? ri«^"g over the rampart, which in turn is shaded by tall and leafy trees, while in the foreground a group of religious are walking down a rocky pathway, ornamfnted Iv .iT-^V'^^^'^ ''r^'' ■. '^^''^ ^'«^de?s are,M^; needTardly say entirely the product of his imagination. Wooden houses in Aran are as rare as leafy trees amtng its barren rocks ; and T pL- 1' ^"'\r ^^''' '' ^'^'^' ""'^^ to'tell. And yet for y'ars Ledwich has thus impudently imposed upon the credulity of his readers by a mendacious print, which he absolutely invented to ustain a loohsh story advanced by him concerning^St Enda our r^?ho r"^' ^'7''"'' f ''^''' '^'^ '^^ ancient%lories of writers Hk^ti-t r/'"^l^ *°'^ '^' ^'^^l"«^^-« domain of writers like this charlatan, whose ignorance was equalled only cii^stV;Til:r '^ "^^^ ^" '''' '' '-' '^ ^^' ^-^^ 0' ' moril'l'''''^ quitting these proud fortresses, where the pagan whereTn Kff ^^^'P.l^'^^^Sth, let us visit the lowly places V° fe J ^^^ ^^^^^^ with Christ in God. and in T nfS ""vT ''''"^i \^written in Irish. Einne and Ende, S n^nf n • f ^?' '^'''*"'^^' ^"d ''-''' t^« «^ly son of Conall, of T m,f 1 M ' \ ''''' territories included the modern counties ^li^^V ^^?^''S}^\^rmagh, and Fermanagh. Three of his the fn,5r^'?' Lochinia and Carecha, were nuns, and Darenia, deathTl f>f' T ^'^^ fr ^"^"^' ^^^g °f ^a^l^el' whose death is placed by the Four Masters in the year 489. On the fit f 450 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORK OF ST. KNDA. lit II l 11 ii -i' |l f!i| 1» 4', -^;i death of his father, the youthful Enda was chosen to succeed him as head of the men cf Oriel. The warlike spirit of the times took strong hold of the young prince's heart, and we find him at an early period of his life captivated by the love of fflorv and eager to show by his military prowess that he was worthy ^h^^ r^fl^i'f ^ TT?"l T^^'^ ^^ ^^^ «P^^^' ^"^1 «f tl^e throne whic^ he filled. ir,s holy sister Fanchea was incessant in her exertions to win for God her brother's heart, which, with all its detects, she knew to be chivalrous and pure. For a time her words of warning and entreaty remained without result; but the season of grace came soon. Enda had asked from his sister in marriage one of the royal maidens who were receiving their education m the convent which she ruled. Fanchea communi- cated his request to the maiden: "Make thou thy choice, whether wil thou love Ilim whom I love, or this earthly bride- groom?' "Whon^ thou West," was the girl's sweet reply, Him a so will I love." She died soon afterfand gave her soS to ijod, the spouse whom she had chosen. ^f 1'^),^ holy virgin," says the ancient Life, " covered the face ot the de^d girl with a veil, and going again to Enda said to W f ' tT'^'t^'^''''' ?T^ ^"'^ ""^^ *^^ ^ai^en whom thou :i 1 !"" ^'I^^ "^'^^ *^^ ^'^g^^ ^^tered the chamber where was the dead gir , and the holy virgin, uncovering the face of the^hfeless maiden said to him: 'Now look upon the face ot her whom thou didst love.' And Enda cried out: 'Alas' she IS fair no onger but ghastly white.' 'So also shalt thy face be, replied the holy virgin. And then St. Fanchea dis- coursed to him of the pains of hell and of the joys of heaven, rl. % I'^'f? "if ' *^^"' ^•^"^^ *« flow. Oh"! the wondrous mercy of God m the conversion of this man to the true faith ! tor even as he changed the haughty Saul into the humble Paul, so out of this worldly pnnce did he make a spiritual and a holy teacher and pastor of his people. For having heard the words ot the holy virgin, despising the vanities of the world, he took t^^TA) ' i^'^ 'f^^ ^^r'^"^' '^^^ ^^^<^ *h^ tonsure signified he lumUed by his actions. * After haying founded a monastery in his native place, St. Enda IS said to have proceeded to Rosnat or Abba, in Britain wh.re he remained for some time under the spiritual direction of St. Mansenus or Manchan. Thence, according to the above- mentioned life he went to Rome, where " attentively studying the examples of the saints, and preparing himself in everything tor the order of priesthood, having at length been ordained p. 705.7"'' ^" ^"'^'''' '''"'*°''^ Augustino Magradin, apiul Colgan, Acta S.S., A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MOUE OF ST. ENDA. 4rj7 priest, he was pleasing to the most hiffh God " ITo h»iU « Gadnnf^ • ¥if' ^''^"'' *^"^"^^ *'^« command of loving Ood and our neighbour was most faithfully carried out " ^ Keturnmg to Ireland, he landed at Droeheda and built several ehurehes on either side of the river Cne He then proceeded southwards to visit his brother-in law^Enffus KW mifhnwei/r "^^\^ -ked the island of^Araf, "that h! mght dwell thereon The king was first unwilling to comply hetilZTr/- "l^^^^^^^^^he was ungenerous, but becaLe he had learned from St Patrick "not to offer to the Lord his access^- ?W save such as were good and fertile, and easy of access. ijut 8t. Enda declared that Aran was to be the Jace tL%::T'Tc:{ z\f '^iv'^''. ?^^"^ ^^^'^ an oSg s of the saint. ''^^' ^'^'"« ^^ ""^"^^ *^^ ^l^««i°g Having thus obtained possession of what he rightly deemed ;^ place of singular retirement, and well suited for the rSours S icte^d "Jwl^^'^f f'\^^lt ^f "T^^ '"^ ^^^ ^^^^^-- -d'con! b^lW^T ^^ !l*^*y ° the island, which was then inhabited isTaif i-nfn r ^^r'^^'r.* T'i ^^ ^^^^^- «« divided the under the ruonA' '"^ ^"'^^ •'^'^'^".^ *^^ monasteries, each nw^ L!^ ^ ""^J*' P'^P^^ superior. He chose a place for his Z /r !? 'v *^S "'l'-'^? .'""^*' ""^ *^^^^ «^^«ted a monastery, the name and site of which is preserved to this day in the little Sdf of thr-7 f"^-""-^^' ^b-t' - -ile fro^m Kibonai^ Une-hdli of the island was assigned to this monastery. Ihen began the blessed days, when the sweet odour of penance ascended to heaven fro^i' the angelic bind of monkf who under the severe rule of St. Enda, mlide Aran a bu^nilfg light ol sanctity for centuries in western Europe. " The virginal Saint from Anan Island," as Marianus O'Gormln styles St. E?da •roveVi?r ' " if'i '\f ^^^ ^'^^^"^-^ '' ^^« religLs life, but " Enda loved glorious mortification In Aran— triumphant virtue ! A narrow dungeon of flinty stone, 10 bring the people to heaven." ," ^^^''\n'" saj'^ . Fro«de,t " is no better than a wild rock. It IS stiewed over with tlie ruins which may still be seen of the old ^Z^'Tl ^""^ "' S"; \'.f '^'y ^'^"^d ^^^- b-en but such places as sheep would huddle under in a storm, and shiver in * Acta Sp:., loco. cit. ^ Short Studies, vol. ii., page 216. I ?■ 458 A VISIT TO THK ARAN-MOUK OF SI. ENDA. I II' ' * l ' 1 n' [ the cold and wet which would pierce through the chinks of the * 1,' * ■ ,^^^' thereon that wet soil, with that dripping on? ^"^^^. *^^™' was the chosen home of these poor men. Ihrough winter frost, through rain and storm, through summer sunshine, generation after generation of them, there they lived and^prayed, and at last lay down and died." These miracles of penance were the first and immediate results of St. Enda's work in Aran. It was in his life that these holy men had daily before them the personal realisation of all they were striving after : he taught them to cherish the flinty dungeon and the dripping cave for love oi the hard manger, and the harder cross ; he bade them dwell amid the discomforts and dreariness of their island home, because m tnc tabernacles of sinners the blessed maiesty of God was daily outraj;ed by the crimes of men. Through him they came to know t'le gift of God, and who He was who spoke with them m their '.ohtude ; whose converse made eloquent for them the silence or the night, and whose angels peopled their lonely island with visions of heavenly beauty. " Trust to one who has had expenonce," his life said to them, as St. Bernard said to the monks of Citeaux : " you will find something far greater in the woods than you will find in books. Stones and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters. Think you not you can suck honey from the rock, and oil from the flinty rock f Do not the mountains drop sweetness, the hills run with milk and honey, and the vallevs stand thick with corn ?"* Wo cannot, indeed, describe the details of his daily life, for they have been hidden from human view, as it is becoming that such secrets of the Heavenly King should be hidden. But there yet survives the voice of one of those who lived with him in Aran, and m the ideal of an abbot which St. Carthage sets before us we undoubtedly find reproduced the traics which distinguished the Abbot of Aranmore, from whom St. Carthage first learned to serve God in the religious life. St. Enda was his first model o± the " patience, humility, prayer, fast, and cheerful abstinence; o± the steadiness, modesty, calmness that are due from a leader o± religious men, whose oflaco it is to teach in all truth, unity lorgiveness, purity, rectitude in all that is moral ; whose chief works are the constant preaching of the Gospel for the instruc- tion of aU persons, and the sacrifice of the Body of the great l^ord upon the holy altar."t It was on Aranmore, and in St. Enda, that he first beheld at the altar of God that pattern priest after whose example he thus warns all priests :— • St. Bernard, Ep. 106. t "Kuleof St. Carthage," Irish Ecclesiastical Becord, vol. i., p. 117, A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 459 •' When you come in to the Mass- It 18 a noble office — Lot there be penitence of heart, shedding of tears, And throwing up of liands. ' 1 here sliall be no permanent love in thy heart But the love of God alone : For pure is the body thou receivest. i'urely must thou go to receive it."* r.^ Jti« fngelic life did St. Enda live upon Aran in the midst of his children untU he reached a venerable old age "^'^ 1,-fJiJT' °^ ^*- ^"'^^^ ^^«*^^^ ^«li^«««' and of the angelical soon spread far and wide throughout the land. The swS odou; of Chnst, diffused from the lonely island in the Atlantt Dene trated to every part of Irelandf and wherever i reached its gracious message stirred with joy the hearts of the noblest and best among the servants of God. It told them of a spot where SI fl V'^'.?^ ^'t^^' '""«^^^y ^^d of more thoroughVvemnce from fleshy ties than was known elsewhere ; a?d to souls hungering and thirsting after perfection, to hea; of ?he pirS treasures stored up in Aran was to long for the wingsTf the dove to fly thither, to be made happy sharers in its o.nl Hence, soon the Galway fishennen, wS St lSda\fd blssed found day after day their corachs crowded with stranTers- ovpfr^T,"'- 1' 1 ^^t '^' ^^d ^«^tl« face-seek ngtfcro^ over to the island ; and so frequently was the journey lade that the words of the prophet seemed verified, and eJen in £f Sf iTv '? ' T\f N^^^ ^ -^ -- *H^' -d i? wr^a'edte noiy way (• Ibe pilgrims were men of every period of lifp some in the spring of their youth, flying from tKeasures that wooed their senses, and the earthly loves that iSd snares W their hearts ; others in the vigour of healthfu m^hood and others aged and infirm, who came to close in reZi\)us L?.p the remnant of their days, which at their best^ tW^S accounted as few and evil. \nd thus Arargradually cTme to be as the writer of the life of St. Kieran of Clonmacnoi s/desS^es ™p tr' I-"" """i*^'^*^" f ^"^-^ "^^^' ^^d the sanctuary where repose the relics of countless saints, whose names are klown only to the Almighty God.J " Great indeed is that isknP exclaims another ancient writer, "and it is the landof thS's * Log. cit., p. 118. ^ j • t " In qua multitudo sanctorum viroruni manet^M; u-, I •«'.. *> ^> %: .Tik IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) '<>/ 1.0 I.I Ui|23 |||2| HBO O 2.0 1^ m 1^ u 1^ 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 .« 6" ► m m ^ a v: ^a e. /A Photographic Sciences Corporation S 4. '^ s ^ :\ \ ^. ^ ^ ^^■>^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (7)6) 872-4503 ^i" MP. &?/ ^. iV I 460 A VISIT TO THE AllAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. ^ But, although It IS not possible to learn the names of all the saints who were formed to holiness by St. Enda in Aran our ancient records have preserved the names of a few at least out oi that blessed multitude. Among them we find ahnost every name oi note that appears in the second part of the weU-known list of the saints of Ireland, drawn up by some author who flourished not later than the middle of the eighth century and in addition to these, many others of great celebrity who are not included m that catalogue This second order of saints lasted from about the middle of the sixth to the beginning of the seventh century. o o o The history of these men is the history of St. Enda's worl- on Aran. ""^i- First among St. Enda's disciples must be ranked St. Kieran the iounder o± Clonmacnoise, who has been styled by Alcuin the glory of the Irish race. St. Kieran came to Aran in his youth and for seven years lived faithfully in the service of God, under the direction of St. Enda. His ; outh and strength fitted him m an especial manner for the active duties, which were by no means inconsiderable in so large a community, and in a Dlace where the toil spent on an ungrateful soil was so scantily remid During these seven years," says the ancient life of our saint * Kieran so diligently discharged the duties of grinding the corn that grain in quantity suflicient to make a heap never was found in the granary of the island." Upon these humble labours the bght of the future greatness of the founder of Clonmacnoise was allowed to shine m visions. St. Kieran had a vision, which he faithfully narrated to his master, St. Enda. He dreamed that on the bank of a great river, which is called the Shannon he saw a mighty tree laden with leaves and fruits, which covered with its shade the entire island of Erin. Thia dream he narrated to St Enda who said, "The tree laden with fruit thou art thyself, for thou shalt be great before God and man, and shalt bring forth sweetest fruits of good works, and shalt be honoured throughout aU Ireland. Proceed, therefore, at once, and in obedience to the will of God, build thou there a monastery." Upon this St. Kieran prepared himself for the buUdinff of the monastery of Clonmacnoise. His first step was to receive the priesthood. But he could not bring himself to sever the happy ties that bound him to his abbot. He still longed to be under his guidance, and when recommending himself to the prayers of his brethren he said to St. Enda, in the presence of all "0 father, take me ana my charge under thy protection, that aU my disciples may be thme likewise." " Not so," answered Enda, * Colgan, Vita 8, End., p. 709. A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 461 carT JiihrsttT'll?/^^ ^V^e under ^y humility and perfL S^^^^^^ ^ T^".' "^''^^^^ half of Ireland^as the portioY oT^i^T^CJ^^^'l^^ ff^ the they had thus spoken a cross was set un in J>. i ^^. ^^®° the brotherhood they had 00^^?*/?.? ?[^'^ '^ '^^ «f those who were to come after tW ^Tf'' t^^^^^elves and ever in after timesThaU break^^^ brotherhood shaU not Ce share ^n 1 ^^ ^"""^ °* *^^« ^^^^ our company in heaven '' ^ '''''' ^""^^ °^ ^^^t^' ^^^ i^ manf :i77onitf'ul- Se^madT^^-^^ '^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^« painful to them both For a tii^p flf. ?f ' ff "i&, siugularly angels of Gfod were leavL "Irn witft '^^°' ^'^^ f ^^ *^^ find no relief for his anffufsh hnt J ^'^'^^'^^^ ^^ could religious discipline had nftpll>,i? ^^« sternness of of ar affectioSisptfdLrSt F / ''''^'^ '^^ tenderness Bernard, whose wSs are fhfl ^^ ^""^ '^?'^ *^^^ ^ St. feelings of the reTiS hp.i I"!f* ^^.Pr^^on of the best the lofs of his brothfrSprard In 1 ^'J'' ^^'""''^ ^^P^^^^^ plative virtues were admSf' v i*"" t^^^^tive and contem- spoken oiKiJr^W^o^ZliSl T^' '/Z -^^'^ ^-- matters? Who will bIrSy burdens" ^hT'''- ' ^^ ^^^^^^'^ speech saved me from secula? Wemtion S,d T'' '^^ ^^°*^" silence which I loved O ^il^T ! ,' ^ ^^^® ^^ to the He plunged himself in ca?es hfri "^'T/ . ^ ^"^^^^^^ ^^^^^ •' in this he souSit no?for hi l^'^i^^* ^^ T'^d them, but (such was his hfmiSty) Ire p ' ^' ^^P^^^^^d his own. Who more strict fElfi from my leisure than from cipliae.P Who mZ stern t ft ^ ? ^^' Preservation of dis- mLraptormrsVllSm^^^^^^^^^^^^ Who theL^'ie'rt iffr^^^^ ar'f rf^^\^^^"' ^« ^-"^^d in J^^Uhe tender a^^^S^^-Jll:-^ had^ctron th^S^eiS,!^^^ ^^^ — that parture was at hand and fChnf .w "" ^^^ "'^"^^^t of de- iran was spreadS^^^^ T *^ ^^'^^ ^^ ^^^^^ 'Tf ^? ^^V^e,VdlLtb:ttn'^^^^^^ and followed by the entire^ brotherhood Ws tears flowTr^ of Cropland to return ^^ ott^tr^X^ h^ s^^^^ • St. Bernard, Serm. in mort. Gerardi. Op. torn. 1, Col. I354. •:\ § 462 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. EN DA. times to look back and contemplate once again tlie place where he had been so happy : so, too, did Kieran's gaze linger with tenderness upon the dark hills of Aran and en the oratories where he had learned to love God, and to feel how good and joyous a thing it is to dwell with brethren whose hearts are at onewith each other in God. And when the 8h')re was reached again he knelt to ask his father'^ blessing ; and, entering the boat, was carried away from the Aran that he was never to see again. The monastic group stayed for a while on the rocks to follow with longing eyes the barque that was bearing from them him they loved ; and when at length, bending their steps home- wards, they had gone some distance from the shore, St Enda's tears once more began to flow. " O my brethren," cried he "good reason have I to weep, for this daV has our island lost the flower and strength of religious observance." What was loss to Aran, however, was gain to Clonmacnoise, and through Clonmacnoise to the entire Irish Church, to which the venerable monastery on the Shannon was the source of so many blessings and of so much glory. Those who admire it even now in its ruins should not forget that its splendours are reflected back upon the rocky Aran, where St. Enda formed the spirit of its founder and fostered with his blessing the work he had undertaken to accomplish. ^ St. Kieran died at Clonmacnoise in the year 549, in the prime of life, having governed his monastery for the short space of a smgle year. Next among the saints of Aran comes St. Brendan.* The life of this illustrious saint narrates " how the man of God went westward with fourteen brethren to a certain island called Aran where dwelt St. Enda with his brethren. With these the servant of God, Brendan, remained for three days and three nights, after which, having received the blessing of St. Enda and of his holy monks, he set out with his companions for Kerry. ' This visit of St. Brendan to Aran has been described by one of our poets f as follows : — " Hearing how 'olessed Enda lived apart, Amid the sacred cares of Aran-Mor ; And how, beneath his eye, sprca'l like a chart, Lay all the isles of that remotest shore ; And how he had collected in his mind All that was known to man of the old sea : I left the hill of miracles behind, And sailed from out the shallow sandy L^igh. • In codice Insulensi. See Colgan, p. 712. + The Bell-Founder and other Poems, by D. F. Mac Carthy, p. 180, sqq. 463 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. " '^ T'h'l/r*''!'^' ""l^'-ossed the stormy sound That hes beneath Binn-Aite's rocky height And there, upon the shore, the saint I fouS ' He l»d m! i"y ?°™'n3 through the tardy night, wt "^^ *? }''^ '^°'"e beside the wave And tf^' '^•*^ ^^^ '"°°'*"' *^« l^io"« father dwelled • And to my l.stenmg ear he freely gave ^ ' Ihe sacred knowledge that his >,osom held. " When I proclaimed the project that I nursed And b„»g me »te b.ck to my .atlv™ "omj " ^""S ^™S'oagH (or knowledge mi for strenoth And waited for the wind to leave thSore/' of !ur^^zrf^r^t 'tTrr^i" *^»^-™' i-** remarkable man was first ti„,.? 'j '^"^P'"'- "' ^'•™- This of Dromore, whoXlfi&Z'ye r'sw" ?f •^*- ""'"r mentioned in the life in^f n,w ^ M ! ^f . "^^ ^^ expressly out on his JCml^rl^l mu ^^' ^'^"^ ^^^^ lie «el visit to the ApoTtoSe BeW of'^^'' 7' ^^'^^^^^ ^^^ ^'^' there devoted himspl ft f/l, / °i ^"^ f *'^^ temperament, he study oiZecSlTofZ"^^ ^"^T ?" ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^ *« the returned to iSnTSJ i^ apostohcal traditions. He then diction, and carrWn/ with ^ ''^T'^ ^^' P^^^^^^^^l ^^^e- saints given h?m bt fhp Pn ^'"^/^^''^ ^^ove of relics of the in his C^rapwKn I?'' ^.-n *^f Pf^^t^^tial canons, which man. Hf lo bVorht Tn T '^ 'f''} *^'' '''''''' 'f ^^' ^^^- HieronymL tranS^of thp a ^^^e earliest copy of the in the S?imat on of hS e^^^^^^^^ =/ '^^'^^^ o.f ^^^^ value records of the neriod vpT^ / Ji contemporaries that the Gospels. ^ °^ ''""^ frequently reler to St. Finnian's * Colgan, Act. SS., p. 70S. 81 464 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. name of St. Frigldian, or Fridian. The Italian annals give 588 as the yepr of his death ; the annals of Ulster and Tiger- nach, 589. The Irish life of St. Columbkille makes mention of the sojourn of that gr ,at saint on Aran. The traditions still current on the island, confirm this statement. The deep love o* St. Columha for Aran, the sorrow with which he quitted its shores for lona, the spiritual excellences which he had therein dis- covered, are expressed with singular warmth of religious feeling in a poem written by him on his departure, of which Mr. Aubrey De Vere* has given the following spirited version : — Farewell to Aran Isle, farewell ! I steer for Hy ; my heart is sore : The breakers burst, the oillows swell, 'Twixt Aran Isle and Alba's shore. II. " Thus spoke the Son of God, • Depart ! ' Aran Isle, God's will be done ! By angels thronged this hour thou art ; 1 sit within my ban^ue alone. III. " Modan, well for thee the while ! Fair falls thy lot, and well art thou! Thy seat is set in Aran Isle : Eastward to Alba turns my prow. rv. • Aran, sun of all the webt ! My heart is thine ! As sweet to close Our dying eyes in thee as rest Where Peter and where Paul repose. " Aran, sun of ail the west ! My heart in thee its grave hath found. He walks in regions of the blest The man that hears thy church-bells sound. VI. " O Aran blest ! O Aran blest ! Accursed the man that loves not thee ! The dead man cradled in thy breast — No demon scares him — v/ell is he. Ij < • De Vere's Irish Odes and other Poems, pp. 274, 275. A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OP ST. ENDA. 465 VII. Each Sunday Gabriel from on high (For so did Christ the Lord Sfain^ %1^1T '°"''' *° sanctify, ^ With fifty angels in his tram. vin. Each Monday Michael issues forth F^rh y^'^*°ew each sacred fane : Each Tuesday cometh Raphael, To bless pure hearth and golden grain. IX. " ^fLK""^/!' «"»=«I' Uriel, To bless thy stones and bless thy sod. X. " Each Saturday comes Mary. Th.1 he.,« God'. „gel. bta thy .„„„ ,., foart^velTrjfe dVws t™?!"!-^™^ oorre.pond to the as follows by Dr. 0'Doa„™n wvf ™> ^^^ ''^™ "•^d^rel translation i/here deSl ""'*' '''^* ©'Flanagan's school of Clonard, who died in tfcl' *5"?'*f!' "^ *<' g^Mt century; St, Jarlath, the Wer S tK""^ 5"^ "* '""^ "^a Creiehe, of the race of the men of n "' ^"^i «'• Mao possession of Aran when St Fn^! « * °"»°' *>"> 'f*™ in MartyroWy of Done^.I „„!; .^'''' ''™' ti'fter. The MartM of a!X SVCr St"ir^"^°r ' ^« were dedifatedrriXfe:7st.tte„1lt:^' i 466 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. II jfl I! I|i who also most probably resided in Aran, and St. Caradoc, or Oarantoc, whoso name recalls his British origin. These two men may fairly be taken as representatives of the native and foreign elements which at that period went to make up the Irisli Church. It is remarkable to find that on Aran, which seems to have been a common centre for the saints of the second order, these two elements are found in harmony, and most closely con- nected with each other. These facts contrast strangely with what we read in a late writer, that " the second order of saints do not appear to have had any connection with Armagh or the mstitutions of St. Patrick," and that " they were connected with the British Church, and not with the Church of St. Patrick."* The history of Aran and of its monuments forbids these attempts to disparage the unity of the ancient Irish Church. The sight of Aran peopled by this host of saints forcibly recalls to mind that other island, where, in an age of wild and fierce passions, the arts of peace, religious learning, and the highest Christian virtues found a sanctuary. At the beginning of the sixth century Aran may with truth be styled the Lerins of the northern seas. True, its bare flags and cold gray land- scape contrast sadly with "the gushing streams, the green meadows, the luxuriant wealth of vines, the fair valleys, and the fragrant scents which," according to St. Eucherius, " made Lerins the paradiso of those who dwelled thereon."t However its very wilderness did but make it richer in those attractions so well described by St. Ambrose, which made the outlying islands so dear to the religious men of that time. J They' loved those islands, " which, as a necklace of pearls, God has set upon the bosom of the sea, and in which those who would fly from the irreofular pleasures of the world may find a refuge wherein to practise austerity and save themselves from the snares of this life. The sea that enfolds them becomes, as it were, a veil to hide from mortal eye their deeds of penance; it aids them to acquire perfect continence ; it feeds grave and sober thought ; it has the secret of peace, and repels all the fierce passions of earth. In it these faithful and pious men find incentives to devotion. The mysterious sound of the billows calls for the answering sound of sacred psalmody ; and the peaceful voices of holy men, mingled with the gentle murmur of the waves breaking softly on the shore, rise in unison to the heavens." It must have been one of these men, whose island home had shut out all the sights of earth save that of the altar, of the sea, and of the wil^d birds disporting along the sunny shore, who, in • Todd'fl St. Patrick, pp. 95-96. t S. Eucherius de laude Eremi, 442. t Hexaemeron, lib. 3, c. 6. A VISIT TO THE AKAN-MORE OF ST. EKBA. 467 Ud like the foam^ftS wave ortr. if"!? '"""S. and hi, an oratory, or like the eobur of II,.. "^ ""' """ S"'-'" »' i^. wi^oS an, partioL'o^l,1rS: TsU, SJliriltS hap^i^etTSlorCd^&Wvl' "^" '°"«" »"- ''-al aUSf, was'poufeS the rTeartJ 'ffS ^r"- «-'\-«'»-'t hood they met with th„ l„,^j jt .j """^ religious brother- joyous was the life of thaf hl^««2i T" ^^ ' ^ow Aran, where the Lblv born Enl 7T ^^ *^^ «^^^*« ^^ kingly descent by t^e rLal^S .W? -^""^^^ P^°^^^ *^«ir by the grace and Xnftv of f ? • ^^''' ''''''''^' ^« ^^^l as could gfatify h^s schokri ■'' T^""?'-''' ^^^^« ^lolumba Kieran find fresh treS, ^T''''i ^?' ^^^" manuscripts, and where Brendan could C^^^^^^^^^ ^^''' *' "'^^^'' its mysteries, and MochX tertVeTelShT''^..'^^ °*^^^' ^^^ monies that first had won hL y™ hla^r^'to h'. '7'^ ^^'l Christ; where the highest form of O? f i ^ "".^^'^'^^ «* happily united with the fire of fTp 1,P"^^*^1 asceticism was No woider that Kieran went f n 1 I^ f f "^^^ °^ *^^ ^e«t- wonder that throuT?he f? ew^^^^^^ ^o there runs such an intensL n7 J f °* .*^^ ^^^^^^ ^Jolumba thousand years ZT^TtfZ:!^^^^^^^^^ ^-^ t^^t a res^i t :;irt^i labtro^fXdr !^* °^^^-!.«^ *^« describe the material troop" nf V- ■^*; '^ ^°^ time to our^bservation .it^'^Lltl aTtX ct^r ^^- ^n^kfofrility^^^^^^^ Tuamfat^n disti. compiled in 1645 orXfc'r ^^^^^^d ^^th every virtue- the/existfng in' Aran which h? \^^«^^^P*^°^ «f the'churches The foUowinl is ht S octets 1^X^X1^^ '^^^- the count; oTSalwt'td T"ffT'^ ^^T^. ^^■^^-^«^'^' ^^ ^ Endeus, or St S' L v.^ ^T^^ °* ^^^°' ^^^ in it St. March. ^''' '' venerated as patron on the 2l8t of 2. The church called Tealach-'Fnrh^ f^ ^-u- i. • ^emetery, wherein is the sfpulchre tf VY", "" """^l^^^ * hundred and twentv-seven ofW I ^\ ^5^^^"^, with one saints were ever burid ^^Puichres, wherein none but 3. The church called Tempull Mac Zonga, dedicated to St • Curry's lectures on the MS. Materials of Irish History, vol. i., p. 376. SS" £ t- m 468 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MOkiJ OF ST. ENDA. Mac Longius is situated near the parish church, which is called sometimes Ktll-Unda-that is, the cella or ceU of St. Endeus!- Endeus"'^^'"'^^ ^^"'^"^^ '''"'' ^"''"'' °'" *^® ^^^^^ ''^"^^^^ ^^ 4 The church called TcmpuU Mic C^«o««, near the aforesaid parish church. arish church'''^''^ ''''^^^^ °^ ^*" ^'''"^' """^ ^'''* *'"''°' *^^ '''"'^ 6. The church which is named TcmpuU Benain, or the temple or bt. lienignus. ^ n ^' ^^v®. ^i-'"''''^ '^"^"^'^ il/'«'»ns^/;- Connachtach, that is, the Connaught Monastery, m place of which, being afterwards demolished, was built a chapel to St. Kieran 8 The church called KiU-na-manach, that is, the church or ceU of the monks which was dedicated to St. Cathradochus, or Caradoc, the monk, surnamed Garhh, or the rouf^h •m/; J i?^""'!?^- ^'^'PfAT'>''''"'' («^' P^^^5>«> Esserninus). Sandei. '' '"^ ^'^''*''* veneration among the T, ^\ ^}^,i^r'^ ^^^^^^P'm^^l a>^ -heathruir aluinn, ov the church of the four beautiful (saints), who were SS. Fursey, Brendan of Birr, ConaU, and Berchann, whose bodies are also said to be buried m the same tomb, lying in the cemetery of the same church. j i^i- ^f M • ^^^ church called TempuU-mic-Duach, or the church of St. Mac Duagh (who is also called Colmanus, surnamed Mac J)uagh), which is a handsome church dedicated to that saint. T 77^^ handsome and formerly parochial church, called fempuU Breccam, or the church of Brecan, in which ilso his feast IS celebrated on the 22nd of May. 13. The church near the aforesaid church of St. Brecan, which IS commonly called Temjmll a Phuill. Several of these edifices have long since perished, and of l;?ri JT'''^'"^'/^'^^'^'."^^ ^^^"^ immediately connected with bt. Enda, do not come within the scope of this paper. For tirT^, r "^^^t "" • f ^''^^^^ °^ *^^ ecclesiasticat establish- ment of St. Brecan,* with its seven churches, and its inscribed stones marking -he graves of St. Brecan, of the seven Roman strangers, and of the monks. But among the buildings visited by us which directly concern our present purpose we were for- tunate m meeting with samples of almost every class of the ecclesiastical structures in use among our Christian forefathers in Ireland. We found within short distance of St. Enda's tomb p. 139.^**"^'" ^"^"'"^ '°'° *^^ ''"^'° *°'^ "'^ °^ ^^^ Ko"°'J Towers of Ireland. A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 4G9 m?ft J? T^ f ^'^? '*y^° representative specimens o^^ the mi- several early rtono L„u«..» o( divers kinds. ]!eC we eld™ Z '^lli^ZVZ -rf' '■''°™""« «^-. -tt U18 attention to Dr. Potrios* description of the urchitr>cturiil peculiarities of the primitive Irish churches, which descroUon we here present m a condensed form. aescriptioa Ihe ancient Irish churches are almost invariably of small size, being usually not more than sixty feet in iS In tZr tney are even called by this name in the oldest writers • but hey never present the semicircular apnis at the eastrd so isud m Roman c mrches, and the smaller Jhurches are merely simnb oblong quadrangles. In addition to this quadranSe tl^ Snr in whifh th hh'"^ ' ""'^i ^"^tituting the chancel or sanctuary, ZZi.f ^- I T' P,'""'^^' ""^ ^J^'«^ i« connected with the centrn nf f} l^V '"'^^'^ entrance, whicli is placed in the centre of the west end ; and thr.y are very imperfectly liihtod by small windows splaying inwirds, whiJh Z o appe^a to have been even gla.ed. The chancel has usually two Sr three windows, one of which is always in the cenire of the east will and another in the south wall ; the windows in tt nave are dso usuaUy p aced in the south wall, and rarely exceed tXn number The windows are frequently triangular headed, but more ZaUy arched semicircularly, while the doorway, on the^o'tiary fs single stone. In all cases the sides of the doorways and windows wh r'thev h' '^'TT '"^ '^' "^^^^"^^ «y^'«I-- bufld" gsHo which the) bear a striking resemblance. The doorways and windows rarely exhibit ornaments of any kind. The 3s are SftrS'otf \^T,1-^- l-!y«-' Htones,;a:erully aT justed to each other both on the inner and outer faces whi'lfl heir interior is filled up with rubble and grout nl X the smaller churches the roof was frequently formed of "stone but or tllr^Tl '"T ''^'''^l''^ ^««^' ^-^-^ ^ith shinglerstraw or reeds. These larger churches are designated in Iri?h writing^ ^IJ!^ r T' i'^'^'^'^y °' «*«"« church, ^..;v;«// {tcmphm) 2 2^^ (.cc/.««), and sometimes hadie. {iJili^a). The mailer nbTw.'rre«^:^"^«^-««""«d ./«,WU.. aiid in theTegi^- mng were xur the most part, as the etymology denotes homen of oak, although the Tripartite Life of St. Pafiik Ikes men- • P.trie'8 Inquiry into the origin and us^s of the Bound Towera of IreUnd, p. 139. 470 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. tion of a 8tono oratory at Armagh coeval with St. Patrick h:m- fifteen feeUnT'T dimensions of the duirteach, was about fttteen feet m length, and ten in breadth, interior measurement In the general plan of this class of buildings there 3 an equal uniformity They had a single doorway, always placed Iced ^^^ '^ l^^ .T' ^""' ^""^ ^^^^*^d by a single window win! J ^^t!''''*'^ °^ *^" '^'* ^^"' '^^d a stone altar beneath tC iWs vTn', -"" T'""^^^ ""l questioned that this class of bu Id ings was originally erected for the private devotion o? fll founders exclusively; for in the immXte vicln y of such KSnTUTh"^/"^ "°V°^^^ '""^ -"« wh'hVrieras were int^^^^^^^^^^ *^' ^°"^^'''' ^"' ^^«° *^« t«^l^« ^^ ^tich they VcJ^A ^''"i!'^/. ^^£,"t^^^l specimen of the class of larger churches here described m Tempull-Mac-Duagh, at Kilmurvev It b's Icirof t"eTet"lf ^""^^ ^'^'^ ^^^ firrmentLod species ot the TempuIIs. The nave is little more than eighteen feet long by fourteen broad, and the chancel nearly skteen feet size and the entire building has a sombre, severe look The rpT kY '^^^ f ^'-^rkable instance of the cyclopean dooV and eTe7udTork cr^'Z^ '^^ ^f ^^^^^1 C^-«^ «f Kilmacduagh S nf n *• ^'^";:f Macduagh by his kinsman Guaire Aidhne ivmg of Connaaght, about the year 610. It is five feet S inchesin height, two feet in width at the top, and two fe.^ three inches at the bottom. The lintel is o^f gran e and t^feVsi-x iSe's^^ *'^ '"^"^ *'^^'^^^^ °^ *^^ -"' -^-^ - ^rn,!^n/^J''-ir''*'''"^'^'.^°'^^^^^' ^^« naturally centred in the ?hur?h of S^l^'"^' '"^''^ 't' \' ^^"^^^>'' ^^d «°°«-t of the of St Enda nnS'?r'' I^' '^^''^ "^ ^*- ^^^^' *^^ ^o^^d tower Onr r^o^ ' • n ^ ^^^ ''°"^ ^°"'^« ^^ ^^^ immediate vicinity. b.Bl'tllJ:ll""f^ T'l^'^ that the first six churches name^d Se Jrefen/vfll ] S'n^ ""'^^ ^"'^ ^*^^^' ^^^ to the north of P^f,-? 1 ?• "'^°^ ?* Killeany. Out of the six four have ahnost 7emSnii7o}^n great church of Enda; r.;.;,..//.;;^a.-XoV lempull^mic-Cmionn, and the church of St. Mary. They were thTmit^ *r ri^^^ ^^"^f °* '^' ^--^-« f- tteTakl" So all i!r • ""^I-^ ^^'^ '"PP^^"*^ *° ^"ild the castle of Arkin. too aU-devouring time, says O'Flaherty t— "Diruit, edificat, mutat quadrata rotundis." *£r''coVnr;htr82*'" '°°''"'^' '" Petrie's 7?o«nci To^era. p. 174. yu A ViSIT TO THE AHAN-MORE OP ST. ENDA. 471 it is^VoXet^^io" ^alt -^ V'^'"^ ?^^«*« -*^« «hore; church withoS chanced Tfl f ^ ^f /Pecimen of the smgle fourteen in breadth ill fU *^?f <^y-four feet in length and means of an equal anhWvTT T^ ''??^°^ ^^« ^^ ^^ northern side Vail are th«' -? "^«*«r.^ g^We and part of the t»ne, the remaSer of the h^^-^^'^l ]>elonging to St. Enda'. period. The eastern Iht i^t^n% Y""^ *^' ^°"^ ^* « ^^ter TempuU-Mac-DuaiS f. I ^'^^■?^ ^"""^^ '*°»«« l^J^e those at the KefextendTn^ awl^*^•'^l'"'^A"^°^*^^^' ^°« of The window in T*" T the entire breadth of the eable i^ghandrhtloado?th^^^^ is one foot seven iihe" thie inches hlh and one foof^''•'\^'^*^' '""''^^ *^o f««^' however, at the bottoSi tn or, /T '°l¥? ^ ' *^^ *°P' widening, is placed in the northl wnll ^°^ ■ '^^v.* "^°^''- ^^^ d^-^™' fivehiffh It isX f^n ^^"' a^d 18 about two feet broad and moretSn fivVLnVed%Tatdd'lil^^^^^^ ^^^ ^-^°* ^« m this northern wall nf nyfrnff .? / . ^^ /^ .^ "^^^«^ window age as the doorway ^.^1.^'- ^'' T ^^^^^*' ^^ *'''' ^^^" the edifice, we found in^PrTpd" t' "^iV^T °^ ^^"^ ''-^e of slab inscriC oTdfscTJ/l '° ^' """S ^ ^'^^^''^^^ sepulchral over, was clearly nott l^fl^f 7f t"-^''' '^'^'^^«'^' which, how- at right angles wi^b tLi' T S^ ^'''^' ^^^ ^^^ P^^aU^l but manlsepulfiral AslloTr'^; .1* '"''' Probably,'^ane of the the church a^^dwLli^ir^ surrounds just as the sepuIcZ- 1 T.ri ^l *t" '"^*°^"^« ^^^ *^« ^^ding, church spread" the ti„^^"''? °* ^"""s""- A™™* «he by the »aS, L* UcTt trof sTlT'^'t^^^ "P hundred and f!ff,r r.X '^^^J ^^ ^t. ±.nda, and those of one cemetery and the^ca Jv .H* i' • "'" H'''''^' ^^*^«^°^ t^is masonry buried in tl ^^ Arkin we found some remains of seemedib^LKntelof'^^J^^'^ ^'? ^^^* uncovered what buildings ProbaSt I i, ^""^^ °* ^^'^ "* *^« P^^^^tive mentioned bfcr Sly and wh Ti,"*^ T "*.*^^ ^°^^ ^^^^«^«^ A liff (o L J 1^' . ^^^^^ ^^d ^een destroyed. Elltnl ^^yo"'^ this point, in the street of the village of reached a small wTsltl '*'" ^IS"^' °^ *^^ «^^' ^^^ soon nativesas tSl S^r^^^^^P^^^ *J^^ ground known to the tu« jpiars Well. It was the weU that served the 472 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. I 1 I I ^ fathers of a Franciscan monastery which was built. Ware sava * hmfir 1/^^r ^^% ^y the O'Briens, on the sil'e ofThe hill just under the round tower of St. Enda. This estabHsL ment also was demolished by the barbarians for the ake of t.hllni It 'T^ ^y ^^' foundations of the walls; and the base of a arge stone cross, with portion of the cross itself once stood The walls of loose stone on the roadside were herl festooned by thick and verdant shoots of the hop plait which spread in great luxuriance around. This shrub is not Tou^d elsewhere in the island. It and the ruined cross and a few shapeless wa Is are all that survive to tell where once stood garden and cloister of the Franciscan monastery w.n i u '^^!^ ''^' °^ ^^^ hillside, we came to St. Enda's well and altar, the latter surmounted by a rude cross and te"^i?^'?-t"rr *^^^«^k «f ^-odert hand.' St Enda s we 1 and mdeed aU the other wells we saw in the idai J are carefully protected by the Araners, the scarciV of water T^ZZ^tTT^'^VK' T^? ^^«^°«^ - preciousVthm a It was to the Eastern shepherds in the days of Rebecca At « short distance to the left of the well stand^the femnant of the round tower of St. Enda. Once its height was worthy of the W t' '^ «f«red temples which stood within the cfrcle traver ed by the shadow it projected in the changing hours, but now [t Is httle more than thirteen feet high. Antged man who Toined our group told us that in St. Enda's time the irs ZTot trom St. Enda s tower announced that St. Enda himself had taken his place a the altar in his own church. Thlre have been many theories propounded concerning the uses of the •oimd towers less satisfactory than this of the simple Araner The contrast between the masonry of the round tower and thai of tte pagan forts is very remarkable. The round tower was budt of chiseUed stones, bomid together with cement -the pain tortress of stones not dressed by the hand, and put toSr without mortar. No one who has had an opportuSv of^com paring ooth can ever be persuaded that they are the worHf the same period or of the same builders, thetwpf w^ \ hill where it rises to the south-west behind Is rZl// T?''^'^'*^ ^' exquisitely beautiful duHeach known as Tempull Benatn, or temple of St. Benignus punil of Sf ottifte\7lf^f°^ ^'^V^' "^^^^ cfow^k'S'h^^hest pomt of the hdl above us, and stood out with its sharp lines * Vol. i., p. 280. rare says,* ope of the I establisL- le sake of o trace its v^alls ; and ross itself, e building were here mt, which aot found md a few mce stood 3t. Enda's ;ross, and and. St. he island, of water them as 3a. At a nt of the ly of the traversed now it is bo joined was not the bell iself had ere have s of the Araner. and that 'wer was be pagan together of corn- work of ; behind i known 1 of St. highest rp lines A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OP ST. ENDA. 473 clearly defined against the sky. This church is erroneously called Temple Mionnain. It lies north and south, a SS which distinguishes it from the other churches of these^prSe ages which as a rule, lie east and west. A solitira^fhed window in the eastern wall, where the altar stood, ga/e admft tance to the light through an opening a little moreThan a foo; high and a foot broad. ^ The doorway is in the nor^h gable an] ' commands an enchanting prospect over Casla Bay B is s^ feet three inches m height, and one foot three fnche broad a wSh of two'^f 'Y 'r^t'^''^- ^T'' '' -^-« arbottom to a width o± two feet. The original height of the side- walls was seven feet four inches ; the northern gable rose to ?he height of seventeen feet, but is now only fifteen feet hi lb Jy w'anTr^' *'^"/^^-^^ '^'^' BtoL,'iL'7zetur'let by iour, and eleven inches in thickness. TempuU Benain measures on the outs de only fifteen feet one inch n lenX and eleven feet three inches in breadth. The roof has totfllv disappeared, but was evidently a stone roof like that on tS Mding known as St. Kevin^ house, at Glendalough Dr cnurcnes in Aran, and to whose accuracy we owe those details Ben^nTr'^'' unhesitatingly declares this church of S Benain to be an erection coeval with St. Benignus himself It dZl^'^Zl * w' 'i'' ''^' ^^' '^"^^y^ b^^^ tlie obj-ecTof grea ptSrofUtnl^^^ °" "^^^^^ '' ^^^ ^P-^«l^^ labours inS And here before leaving this part of our subject we wish 0? df^i ^''7' t^T'""' ''^'^^' «- *^^ primiJive churXs Iran '"k^fCJ^t '\^,in^\-^Vl^^-hle to those on man, to interest the mind or attract regard as works of art ikrv th^- 'f^f\\,^Ty> yet,inth?ir symmetrical sim phcity-their dim y-hghted nave, entered by itc central west aZS ?o tb!T"'*f '" ^ °*^^^ «^^^ ^^i*« ^^hTnceT aTct attording to the devout worshipper an unimpeded view of that brighter sanctuary in which were celebrated the dfvLe mvs teries which afforded him consolation in this world Td hop^^i thenex-mthe total absence of everything which could dis PuTnose'tof t"'^*'r '^ ^^ -prJssion^f fitnesst th purpose too often wanting m modern temples of the hiehest pretensions; as the artless strains sung to the Creator, which werrc'LlclTd T' '1^ ^^'^ ^ *^«^^ unadorned tempW' were calculated from their very simplicity and artlessness to awaken feelmgs of deep devotionf wWch the gor?^^^^^^^ * Round Towers, pp. 188, 189. I 474 A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 111 !' ■.mkki artificial music of the modem cathedral but too rarely excites even in minds most predisposed to feel its influences S lurhTmblf "';^"^^^- l' «^-^' *t-e ancient tempTes are tn L 1, ' "^^'^^r^ed Structures, as we might expect them to have been; but even if they were found to eSt leS • humbW«r'''°°. '^ congruityand fitness, and more of that theT^Ir If r ^,^^^^t^ri«tic of a religion not made for be env/e^l^l.*^' ^^Tr^ ^"^^^^ '^^' ^^^^ i« but little to SSS-e- feS- iP ^-r of the C^S; ^Z TTnw ""* '^^!r' '* T7 b® ^'^^^' ^id all these religious men Uve ? How were they sheltered from the Atlantic tempestsTwhlch Aran P Hn7 '''' Jf ^ssarily spent on the beetling cliffs of from iheS?''"' '^'^ ^'''''''^ ^''^ '^' wintr/cdd and desc^fntiof n^'n "'""^'"l expect, in answer to this question, a aescnption of any vast structure sufficient for the adeouatp WdTn Jhrf V 1 *^°-"^""^*^- - 1-ge as those thatTet n« !l! f ■ '*T*^^y monasteries of the middle ages. In Aran com ZS*'V^ ^''^'^^'^' '^' '^'^y "^°^^«ti« establlhments w^e whTethfl? ^^P^'•^*^«^"« for the abbot, monks, and cWy The k t^eLn°"r' ^^^^^^^ /^^ the accommodation ^f straS cashel or nl; 1 ' ""'if ^^^ /^Parate edifices, surrounded by a eSastVn n ' rf\r^ ^7"^^^ ^ ^^^ of monastery^or ecclesiastical town, like those of the early Christians in thp vS and known among the Egyptians by the^name of iT»m The b^^^e'Sar ^"t 'T *^^ ^^^''^^--' that th^eTatt'er la out one habitation where the monks lived in common whereas ^o^To^Vrlf '^^^"^ ''^^' ^^'^^^ f-- ea^h o S AeS^^ ^^^ frequently mentioned in the Lives of mnw'T '.t"".«t"res, it is fair to assume, were formed of the northern and L V' '"^"Z ^"'^ 1^'^'^'' ^^ ^^^"^ remain in the n^? \ ^'''*'''''' portions of the island. But in the west ld°Ser3rsn '"^^'^"^^ T ^^^^-^' ^^ ^^ ^he-Te O'Sl rtr* "f.;f r'""' /\^^^^'^ore. " There," writes stone. loS' ■*■ ^ ^''''^ c%/w««s, a kind of building of stones laid one upon another, which arc brought to a roof, • Round Towers, p. 416 Li Jore.""'^"'^"*'' ^'=*- ^^- *^^"' '0^- 3. i° Life of St. Mochuda or Carthage of t Op. cit. p. 68. A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 475 body knows how ST^o anv n? V'""' '" "^^^^^* *^^* ^o- WaBce they bearto th« n." "^"""^ *™°' ""^ ■'<=««'- remarkabl/arrU: b'etw? f ?hf hote's T^af"*- ^^ Clinstian periods is that wTi^rolc +1,^ *^® P^&^° and occa™naUy quadrangular in the in?lrL a. tf L '^' ™ gnlar form of the churches had been adont^ „1 '''« .I"?' I™n- ^^ecdesiastics. Whole viUagea'rtht^^ui-Sst't tan! than in these found elsewhere.f One of thp ^S /'"'''-' this house measures four feet n L iwJ, • i ^J^^^b^^s "^ covered on Aran-More the ruins K bufld^i^t^-t ^^^ J Ordnance Survey, MSS. J Proceedings R. L Academy, vol. x., p. 565. .•!«■! I 47G A VISIT TO THE ARAN- MORE OF ST. ENDA. feet in thickness. But it is now fuU time to bring our wander- ings to a close. ° With the permission of the exceUent and hospitable priest who has charge of the island we resolved, on the last morning of our stay on Aran, to celebrate Mass in the ruined church ot Teglach-Enda, where in the year 540 or 542 St. Enda was mterred and where likewise repose the relics of a countless army of white- robed saints. The morning was bright and dear, and as we traversed the road skirting the shore from J^ilronan to Killeany the dark and rigid outlines of the rocks were softened by the touch of the early sunshine. The inha- bitants of Killeany, exulting in the tidings that the Holv bacrihce was once again to be offered to God near the shrine o± their sainted patron, accompanied or foUowed us to the venerable ruins. _ The men, young and old, were clothed in decent black., or m white garments of home-made stuff, with sandals of undressed leather, like those of the peasants of the Abruzzi laced round their feet; the women were attired in gay scarlet gowns and blue bodices, and all wore a look of remarkable neatness and comfort. The small roofless church was soon failed to overflowing with a decorous and devout con- gregation ; and as the sands had accumulated to a considerable faeight on_ the exterior of the building, those who found no place within were enabled to overtop the high walls on either side, and thus assist at the Sacrifice. It was plain to us from what we saw before us, that these churches had not been fSthfd ^^*^^ *° ^^^^'^^ ^^^"^ ordinary assemblages of the ^ We can never forget the scene of that morning : the pure, bright sand, covering the graves of unknown and unnumbered samts as w^th a robe of sQver tissue, that glistened in the sunshine ; the delicate green foliage of the wild plants that rose here and there, as if wrought in embroidery upon the white expanse; on_ one side the sweUing hill crowned with the church of Benignus, and on the other the blue sea, that almost bathed the foundations of the venerable sanctuary Itself ; the soft balmy air that hardly stirred the ferns on the old walls; and the fresh, happy, solemn calm that reiffned over all. ° The temporary altar was set up under the east window, on the site where of old the altar stood ; and there, in the ^I'i Z J\^ ^^^'"^ ^^^ ^™P^® faithful, within the waUs wliich had been consecrated some twelve hundred years be- fore, over the very spot of earth where so many of the saints o± Ireland lay awaiting their resurrection to glory, the solemn nte ot the Christian Sacrifice was performed, and once more. A VISIT TO THE ARAN-MORE OF ST. ENDA. 477 c:mVL^rlJStt n!"?'V''?'^' '"^^ ™8^i» "f God Aran aIa ^°f^^^P *^e Dmne Victim in the churches of werT'the^dtrn^r/ ?aTr^^?' ^ angehtr^pany around. ThTouXt the M^^^ C^^'^'f'' worship^ upon them, and the only sounds that tl I! ' !l^'^'' '^""^'^ the solemn voice of thA r.S 1 ^ "^P^^ *^^ ^^^ ^^^ breaking on tie beach oSS ""^^^ f Y^^" °* *^^ ^^^«« elevatioS, when thev bp^n?] fl ' ^""^ ^^ }^^ "^^"^^^^ «* ^^^^ Host raised up forfhem ll ^""'^ and holy and unspotted love went forV from S.r ^^"'''a "'^ «V^°"^g faith and the dust before theTord ^ ' ' '^""^ ^'"^ ^"' ^"^^'^ ^ M. H. Oill anri Son, J'niittrs, Dublin.