YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE LIBRARY ASSOCIATES Gift of the REVEREND KENNETH W. CAMERON 24^-C. F. Vol. 2 CHRIST ENTERING JERUSALEM. THE Holy Catholic faith Hi OR THE LAMP OF TRUTH IN THE CATHOLIC HOME CONTAINING BEAUTIFUL GEMS FROM THE WRITINGS OF THE MOST EMINENT AUTHORITIES ON THE DOCTRINES, PRACTICES AND VIRTUES OF THE ONE TRUE CHURCH INCLUDING CARDINAL NEWMAN ; BISHOP CHALLONER ; BISHOP OP NOTTINGHAM ; RIGHT REV. MGR. JOHN S. VAUGHAN ; MGR. DE SEGUR ; REV. A. J. SAXTON; REV. R. F. CLARKE, S.J. ; SAINT AUGUSTINE ; MOTHER MARY LOYOLA ; FATHER JEROME SAVONAROLA, OP. ; AND MANY OTHER * RENOWNED CATHOLIC WRITERS A Complete Library of Instruction and Devotion EMBRACING A Full and Captivating; Treatise ON SUCH SUBJECTS AS THE HAIL MARY ; INFINITE LOVE ; THE STATIONS OR HOLY WAY OF THE CROSS; THE LORD'S PRAYER; THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS; THOUGHTS ON THE NATURE OF GOD; CATHOLIC CHURCH IN THE SCRIPTURES ; SAINT CECILIA ; SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND; JOAN OF ARC; JESUS CHRIST OUR KING; AND MANY OTHER CATHOLIC SUBJECTS TOGETHER WITH A LARGE COLLECTION OF BEAUTIFUL CATHOLIC VERSE AND A CONCISE DICTIONARY OF WORDS AND TERMS USED IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH AND IN THE WRITINGS OF THE HOLY FATHERS Profusely and Beautifully Illustrated with Phototype Engravings, all Works of Art and True to the Sacred Meaning of the Holy Scriptures VOL. IT ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS, IN THE YEAR 1907, BY EDWARD FRANCIS MURPHY IN THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OF CONGRESS, AT WASHINGTON, u. U., u. s. I- lie ii- V , C A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF Catholic Doctrine. BY MOTHER MARY LOYOLA. FAITH. OD.— The Church teaches that there is but one God, the Creator of things. He supreme, that isis, over all other beings, for He alone exists of Himself. He had no beginning ; He will have no end. He is every where. He knows and sees all things, even our most secret thoughts. He can do all things ; nothing can resist His Will. God is a Spirit. He has no form, and therefore we cannot see Him in this life. But He is a real Person, con taining in Himself all that is good. All power, wisdom, holiness, beauty, goodness — everything that calls for adoration, for praise, for love and ser vice, is found in Him. Because He is infinitely above us, He is incomprehen sible. We cannot understand Him, and many of the things He does and permits are a puzzle to us how. But because of His infinite Wisdom and Goodness we know that all He does is right and good, and we adore what we cannot understand. The day will come when all men will see the reason of God's ways with His creatures, and will Vol. 2 own that "He has done all things well." In this one God there are Three Per sons, equal in all things — the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. How these Three Persons are all one and the same God is a mystery, that is, a truth above reason, but revealed by God. Many people nowadays refuse to believe what they cannot understand. This is foolish, for how many wonders there are around us and within us that our reason cannot grasp. The midnight skies, the flowery fields, the soul which checks and approves us by turns — all these things are full of mystery. To deny what they cannot comprehend is to act against the very reason freethinkers pretend to stand by. In all things relating to God we have to remember that He is a Being infinitely above us. He would not be God if we could understand Him. But in reward for our faith during this time of trial, we shall one day see far into the mysteries that perplex us now. The mystery of Three Persons in one God is called the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity. Jesus Christ. The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity has two natures, the nature of God and the nature of man. He is 379 ii ^,:/:.:r Vf- H< - ' ¦¦•'u.i '' .'• THE CRUCIFIXION St. Matthew 27. 35—88 ; St. Mark 15. 24—28 ; St. Luke 23. 33, 34 ; St. John 19. 18—24 OUR SAVIOUR APPEARS TO MARY MAGDALENE AFTER HIS RESURRECTION. | REGINA APO^-.. ^^STOLORUM. $ Mm jmBBttBsmmfo ^jri)^£i^z3... THE CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S CHILD FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN. UT Jesus said unto them : Suffer the little children and forbid them not to come unto me ; for the kingdom of heaven is for such. — St. Matthew, xix. 14.. The best beloved of the Lord shall dwell confidently in him. — Deut. xxxiii. 12. For this child did I pray, and the Lord hath granted me my petition, which I asked of him. Therefore I also have lent him to the I/Ord ; all the days of his life he shall be lent to the Lord. — /. Kings, i. 27, 28. Shall I be able to bring him back any more ? I shall go to him rather : but he shall not return to me. — II. Kings, xii. 23. For the girl is not dead, but sleepeth. — St. Matthew, ix. 2j. For the promise is to you, and to your children. — Acts, ii. jp. And night shall be no more. — Apocalypse, xxii. 5. I die so soon, and yet I die To win the crown of Life ; And mine— how soon the victory, How brief my hour of strife ! My soul a flow'ret, dewy, sweet, Shall blossom at the Saviour's feet ! His— ransomed in the saving tide Of His own precious blood, And purged from stain of Adam's guilt In sacramental flood. My legacy — Eternal Rest Upon the Saviour's faithful breast ! When to my little grave you come, Dear parents, now so sad, Your faith and hope must stronger grow, Your trusting hearts more glad ; For just beyond the grave I'll' wait To greet you at the Golden Gate. From shortened pain to lasting joys Death's welcome summons calls ; E'en now, upon my list'ning ear Angelic music falls. My soul responds with longing love ; Farewell ! Weep not ! We meet above ! My grateful mem'ry e'er shall cling About you day by day, For all the selfless joys you've cast Upon my life's short way. God bless your love, so strong and true ! Farewell ! In Heaven I'll pray for you. Dear friends, whose ling' ring gaze I meet, As here in death I lie, Learn ye the one important task Of life— the " How " to die ; That, when you too are called to go, Death may not have a single throe ! 5>amtr to Our beloved child^&irQsCjL Born GLcZt&VL' jf "V~t..fA. ^ Departed this /?>.... J/*c^.....4L/..:"" / f 0 6 THE CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S CHILD-FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN. THE REWARD OF THE CHRISTIAN FATHER S a father hath compassion on his children, so hath the Lord compassion on them that fear him. — Psalm cii. ij. Keep innocence and behold justice : for there are remnants for the peaceable man — Psalm xxxvi. 37. For thee my flesh and my heart have fainted away : thou art the God of my heart, and the God that is my portion forever. — Psalm Ixxii. 26. For which cause we faint not : but though our outward man is corrupted : yet the inward man is renewed day by day. — II Corinthians, iv. 16. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life. — Apocalypse, ii. 10. Ei)t JDfitng jfatfjer's JFaretoeXT God calls me, and I may not stay ; The sands of life are nearly run. Its joys were few, its sorrows long ; ' Tis over now, — my task is done. ' Tis our Heavenly Father's will ; I die — and dying, praise Him still. Dear heart, that beat so true to mine Through all our happy wedded years, May not my grateful love assuage Your grief, and dry your bitter tears ? God keep you, bless you, from on high, When mould' ring in the tomb I lie. O mother-heart, cease your repining ! The future is in God's own hand. Fear not ! He feeds the crying raven ; Can he forsake our little band ? What our united strength has done — Can He not do, the Mighty One? And you, my children, you who weep Around your father's dying bed, Fear not the morrow ; it will bring A blessing on each little head. Your mother's stay and solace be, And leave the rest to God and me ! Her loving hand in helpless years Will for your ev'ry need provide, And you, when age has set its seal Upon her brow, stay by her side, Nor let your foot from duty stray ; God's blessing linger on your way ! Farewell ! until your summcns calls To leave this world of sin and pain ; Till in the realms of endless bliss, At home with God, we meet again ; We'll meet where parting is unknown, Before our Heavenly Father's throne. j&acrrti to ttje Hflemorg of Our beloved father J &*ri4*a4/ ^ ^O^^Ci^^^ Born Hcc IWemorg of Our beloved mother Born Departed this life THE REWARD OF THE CHRISTIAN MOTHER. THE PEACEFUL DEATH OF THE JUST. A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 381 truly God because He has one and the same nature with God the Father. He is truly man because He has the nature of man, having a body and soul like ours. He was always God, born of the Father from all eternity. He has been man only from the time of His Incar nation, when He took to Himself the nature of man in the womb of Mary ever Virgin. He has a true human Mother, and because He is God, His Mother is truly Mother of God. He had no father on earth ; St. Joseph was only His guardian or foster-father. Jesus Christ became man to redeem us from sin and hell, and to shew us the way to heaven. During thirty- three years He gave us an example of every virtue for our imitation. He preached His divine doctrine, trained His Apostles, and founded His Church, then He laid down His life on the Cross for our redemption. On the third day after His death He proved Himself to be God by rising from the dead by His own power. Forty days after His Resurrection He remained on earth, teaching the Apos tles how they and their successors were to carry on His work to the end of time. On the fortieth day He ascended into heaven in their presence, and ten days later He sent down upon them His Holy Spirit, who was to lead them into all truth and to abide with them forever. The Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost is the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. He proceeds from the Father and the Son, and is the Lord and God as they are. He came down upon the Apostles on Whit sunday to enable them to preach the Gospel and to plant the Church. He is the Lover and Sanctifier of our souls, cleansing, strengthening, com forting them, helping them to deserve by goods works the rewards of heaven. My Soul. God has loved each one of us from eternity. We had no claims on His love. He drew us out of nothing. He gave us all that we have and are — our body with all its senses, our soul with its three powers, memory, understand ing, and will. He made this soul to His own image and likeness. Like Him, it is a spirit and can never die. The body will soon be a little dust in the grave, but the soul will live on forever, for it is made for eternity. At the Last Day it will be joined again to the very same body it had in life, and body and soul will begin a new life which will never end. What will this new life be like? To answer this question, we must ask another : Why did God make us ? God, who is infinitely wise and good, must have a noble end in all His works, and the higher the work the nobler must be the end. Man is the highest of his visible works, therefore man must have the highest of all ends. God made me, not to live simply for myself, not for the service of those around me, not for any creature, how ever high, however dear, but for Him self. He has made this soul of mine to know, love, and serve Him, and to enjoy the same happiness He has Him self. Since this is its end, it can never be satisfied and at rest unless it is carrying out this end. As God's creatures, be- 382 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. long completely to Him, we should be bound to serve Him without any reward, but He has promised us the grandest of rewards for serving Him during the short time we have to spend here on earth — no less than the possession of Himself, with all that He has ; the sat isfying of every desire of our soul ; joys that eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart of man conceived — and this forever. The chief thing, then, that I have to do in this world is to secure for myself the everlasting happiness of the world to come — to save my soul. But this word " to save '' brings a solemn, even terrifying truth before me. God is in finite in all His perfections — infinitely good and loVing, and infinitely just. He cannot make a creature for an end, and give it every help to reach that end, and then leave it to itself without caring whether it reaches the end or not. He cannot command it to know, love, and serve Him, and not mind if it disobeys His command. He must either reward or punish. If I save my soul, my whole self, body and soul, are saved from utter and hopeless ruin. If I lose my soul, all is lost. The Practical Judgment. In the moment of death our time of trial will be over, and we shall be called to give an account of the use we have made of it. Trembling and alone, our soul will be presented before the judg ment seat of Jesus Christ to give an account of every thought, word, and deed of its life on earth. "It is ap pointed unto men once to die ; and after this, the judgment." The Judg ment is followed by the sentence which fixes the state of the soul for eternity. If it is found free from the least stain of sin, and with no debt of punish ment owing to the Divine Justice, it passes at once to its place in heaven. If there is on it the guilt of even one grievous offense against God, it is ban ished from His presence for ever. Hell must be its abode for eternity, for only in this life are repentance and change possible. If it is free from grievous, but stained with venal sin, or has a debt of punish ment still due for forgiven sin, it will be saved, "yet so as by fire.'' It will be sent to Purgatory, the place of suffer ing and expiation, where it must re main till it has paid the last farthing. The Judgment immediately after death is called the Particular Judgment, be cause each soul appears singly before Christ our Lord, and alone with Him the life is examined and the sentence passed. The General Judgment. But there is a General Judgment to come at the Last Day, that the sentence passed on each day be made known to all ; that the Justice of God, which so often allows the good to suffer in this life whilst the wicked prosper, may be made known to all men ; and chiefly, that Jesus Christ, so humbled and de spised on earth, may be glorified in the sight of all mankind. At the sound of the Archangel's trumpet all men will rise from their graves with the same bodies they had in life, but very differ ent from what they are now. The bodies of the just will be beau tiful and glorious ; those of the wicked hideous and loathsome. " Then shall appear the Sign of the Son of Man," that is, the Cross, ' ' in heaven, and they shall A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 383 see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with great power and majesty. And all nations shall be gathered before Him." Then every thought, word, and deed shall be made known, and the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed. Then will Christ say to the wicked, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever lasting fire ;" and to the just, "Come ye blessed of My Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." The Angels will separate the good from the bad, "and these shall go into everlasting punishment, but the just into life everlasting.' ' Life Everlasting. This means the glory and happiness of heaven, where the good shall see, love, and enjoy God for ever. This hap piness is so great that the Scripture says of it, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive what things God hath prepared for them that love Him." There is another eternity which the Scripture calls " eternal death." It is the eternity of those whose names are not in the book of life ; who have been too busy with the things of this world to attend to " the one thing necessary;" who have died the enemies of God. Men try to keep the awful fact of hell out of mind, as if this would prevent its being a reality. Or they try to believe it will not last for ever. Yet what can be plainer than our Lord's words, repeated again and again, "where the fire is not extinguished." "Depart from Me, ye cursed, into ever lasting fire." He bids even His friends think of that terrible eternity with fear. " Fear Him who after He hath killed hath power to cast into hell, yea I say to you, fear Him." It is especially when temptation is strong that we need this check of holy fear. A saint used to pray, "My God, if ever Thy love should grow cold in my heart, at least let the thought of Thy punishments keep me from falling into sin." The Catholic Church. How are men to escape the punish ments of the life to come, and reach the eternal happiness prepared for them? Our Blessed Lord tells us. ' ' Hear the Church," He says. He knew that learn ing and study are not enough. And He knew that most of His followers would be poor and simple, bound to work all day and every day for their daily bread, and unable to puzzle out hard questions. So He made an easy way to heaven for all men. He did not say, "Read her Bible," but " Hear the Church." The Bible is the holiest of books, and of inestimable worth to the disciples of Christ. But because it is the word of God, it is too deep to be understood throughout by anyone, however spiritual, however learned, and Christ never meant it to take the place of the living voice of His Church. There must be an authority to tell us that it is the word of God, and to decide important and difficult ques tions as they arise. A mother in the midst of her little children teaches by word of mouth. She may open a book before them and encourage them to read, but they read under her guidance, and for the explanation of hard passages they turn to her. Catholics are en couraged to read the Scriptures: the priests and religious read them daily, 384 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. but they read as children of the Church. The Catholic Church is the union of all the faithful under one Head, Jesus Christ our Lord. She has four marks by which we may know her : she is One ; she is Holy ; she is Catholic ; she is Apostolic. The Church is One be cause all her members agree in one Faith, have all the same Sacrifice and Sacraments, and are all united under one Head. There is no difference among Catholics in matters of faith. In habits and tastes, in pious practices even, there is plenty of variety. But in questions of faith they are absolutely One. Catholic Teachings. Catholics in Ireland and in Japan, in the university and in the factory, hold precisely the same doctrines, not be cause they seem reasonable, but because they are the teaching of the Church, which Christ has commanded them to hear. Catholics worship God every where by the offering of the same Sac rifice, the holy Mass ; they are all brought on their way to heaven by the same seven Sacraments, and all ac knowledge as their supreme Head on earth the Vicar or representative of Christ, the Bishop of Rome. The Church is Holy because she teaches a holy doctrine, offers to all the means of holiness, and is distinguished by the eminent holiness of so many thousands of her children. She leads all to the faithful observance of God's commandments, to an uninterrupted fight with the devil, the world, and their own corrupt inclinations and passions, to a hatred for sin, and to the practice of good works. She not only exhorts us to holiness, but by her Sacraments, her feasts, and devotions she helps us to become holy. And she proves her right to the mark of holiness by the multi tude of her saints. There are bad Cath olics, no doubt, as there was cockle among the wheat in our Lord's parable, but they are bad because they disobey the Church and neglect the means of grace she offers them. The Church is Catholic or Universal because she subsists in all ages, teaches all nations, and is the one Ark of Salva tion for all. She is the only Church that can go back nineteen hundred years to the time of Jesus Christ ; the only Church that has preached to all nations, and is found in every country of the world. And she is the only Church ap pointed by God to bring men to eternal salvation. This does not mean that none but Catholics get to heaven. Human Salvation. Many Protestants are saved and many Catholics are lost. But since Christ has appointed a Church as the| great means for the salvation of men, it follows (i) that all men are bound to make use of this means, and to enter the Catholic Church as soon as they recognize her as the Church founded by Christ ; and (2) that it is far easier to be saved within this Church than without, even though a man may be in good faith without. The Church is Apostolic because she holds the doctrine and traditions of the Apostles, and because, through the un broken succession of her Pastors, she derives her orders and her mission from them. Scripture is the written, tradi tion the unwritten word of God. The Apostles taught chiefly by word of mouth, as they had themselves been taught by our Lord. During the forty days after the Resurrection He told them PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D, 41 TO 222 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 222 TO 314 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. T 314 TO 492 f JOHS) • III ¦ V 5feO~ 574- QREQORlY • )• \ 59o - eo<», j PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 492 TO 604 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 604 TO 684 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 684 TO 772 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D- 772 TO 891 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 891 TO 936 /V'A<3APET(JS-n'*^/>'jQH M -xn- N"~>y''v-' l_EO • V 1 1 1 ¦ ^~\ PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 936 TO 1003 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1003 TO 1099 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1099 TO 122? 7^^)^^^^^^^^ '^8*29* <34 _ (302> PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1227 TO 1305 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1305 TO 1455 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1455 TO 1566 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1566 TO 1689 PORTRAITS OF THE POPES FROM A. D. 1689 TO 1903 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OP CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 385 many things concerning " the Kingdom of God" which are not contained in Scripture, but which have come down to us in various ways — by the teaching of the Church everywhere and always, in creeds or professions of faith, in holy rites and ceremonies, in the prayers of public worship, and in the writings of the holy Fathers and Doctors, for tradi tion is written as well as unwritten. This teaching of tradition has the Holy Ghost for its guardian, and is as inspired and binding as the written words of Scripture. Through the un broken succession of her chief Pastors, from Peter to Pius X., our Bishops and priests derive their sacred orders and their right to teach the faithful from the Apostles, who received these powers from our Lord Himself. Infallibility of the Pope. To the Apostles Christ said, "Go, teach all nations. He that heareth you heareth Me." And that all might teach the same thing, He put one of them, Peter, over the rest. He made him the visible Head of the Church on earth when He said to him, " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And to thee will I give the keys of the kingdom of heaven." " Feed My lambs ; feed My sheep." He also prayed that his faith might never fail, and commanded him to confirm his brethren. Peter was to tend the whole flock ; the sheep as well as the lambs, those who have to feed, or the Church teaching, and those to be fed, or the Church taught — all were to depend on Peter. And because God is faithful, He has taken care that Peter and his successors, 25-C F Vol. 2 the Bishops of Rome, shall not lead the flock astray. For the sake of the Church, therefore, the Bishop of Rome, who is called the Pope, is preserved by God from error whenever he defines a doc trine concerning yazV-fc — that is, what we have to believe — or morals — that is> what we have to do — to be held by the whole Church. This is what is meant by the Pope's Infallibility. It does not mean that the Pope cannot do wrong. A Pope might do great wrong ; he might even lose his soul. But no Pope can teach wrong when speaking to the whole Church as its Head. Although the doctrine of the Infalli bility of the Pope was only defined in 1870, it has always been the teaching of the Church, though not binding on " Catholics before 1870. The definition of a doctrine is not the invention of a doctrine, but merely its clearer manifes tation, as when we unroll a scroll we bring to light what was really there be fore. The Divinity of our Lord was not defined till the fifth century, yet, sure ly, it was held by the Church from the beginning. As new needs and errors arise, the Church declares more fully what has always been part of Catholic truth. The Communion of Saints. The Church is in Heaven, where it is called the Church Triumphant, and in Purgatory, where it is the Church Suffering, and on earth, where it is the Church Militant, or fighting. All its members, in Heaven, on earth, and in Purgatory, are in communion with each other, as being one body in Jesus Christ j that is, there is a holy friendship be tween them, a loving intercourse, and an interchange of good offices- 386 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. The faithful on earth are in com munion with each other by professing the same faith, obeying the same au thority, and assisting each other by their prayers and good works. We are in communion with the Saints in Heaven by honoring them as the glori fied members of the Church ; and also by our praying to them, and by their praying for us. And we are in com munion with the souls in Purgatory by helping them with our prayers and good works. " It is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from sins." Purgatory. We know that there is a place of tem poral punishment after death, from the constant teaching of the Church ; and from Holy Scripture, which declares that God will render to every man ac cording to his works ; that nothing de filed shall enter Heaven ; and that some will be saved, "yet so as by fire." Those souls go to Purgatory that depart this life in venial sin ; or that have not fully paid the debt of temporal punish ment due to those sins of which the guilt has been forgiven. Temporal punishment is that which will have an end, either in this world or in the world to come. Sin. Sin is an offence against God, by any thought, word, deed or omission against the law of God. There are two kinds of sin, original and actual. Original sin is the sin of Adam when he ate the forbidden fruit. Every child of Adam, with one exception, the im maculate Mother of God, has inherited the guilt or stain of original sin from him who was the origin and head of all mankind. Actual sin is that which we ourselves commit. Actual sin is either mortal or venial. Mortal or deadly sin is so called be cause it kills the soul by taking away sanctifying grace, which is its super natural life. The soul has a natural life, which enables us to move, think, and speak, and a supernatural life, which is the friendship of God, given to it by sanctifying grace. It is its su pernatural life that makes it beautiful and pleasing in the sight of God. This is the life that is destroyed by mortal sin. Men see no change after mortal sin ; we walk, work, laugh as before. But in the sight of God and His An gels there is a terrible change — our soul has become hideous and loathsome. All the reward laid up for us in heaven by our good works is forfeited, and no good work done in the state of mortal sin can merit an eternal reward. We deserve eternal punishment, and if we die in this state our soul will fall straight into the flames of hell, where the body will join it on the Last Day. Three things are required to make a mortal sin : grave matter, full know ledge, full consent. (i) Grave Matter. —The sinful thought, word, deed, or omission must be something of very great importance, e.g., injuring our neighbor's character in a serious matter, stealing a large sum, or a small sum from a very poor person. (2) Fui.1. Knowledge. — Not done by mistake, or before we knew clearly what we were about. The mind must think of the sinfulness of the act at the time it is done. A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 387 (3) Ftjix Consent. — The will must deliberately agree to the temptation, whether of thought, word, or deed. If there was not full knowledge, or full con sent, but hesitation in rejecting the temptation, the sin is venial, and the soul may be irreparably injured but not necessarily killed. Venial sin means pardonable. This sin is so called because it is more easily pardoned than mortal sin. A lie of excuse, a small injury to our neighbor, do not make us enemies of God, or take away sanctifying grace. Nevertheless, venial sin is a great evil, the greatest of all evils after mor tal sin, and we should be heartily sorry for it. It deprives us of many graces, it lessens our fear of offending God, and in this way often leads to mortal sin. No one ever comes to mortal sin except through carelessness about venial sin. Every venial sin will be punished, either in this life or in the next. HOPE. Besides believing what God has told us, we are commanded to hope for what He has promised us, and to show our love for Him by doing what He requires of us. In other words, we have to wor ship Him by Faith, Hope, and Charity. Because God is infinitely powerful, infinitely good, and faithful to His prom ises, we are bound to hope that He will give us eternal happiness in the life to come, and all things necessary to obtain it, if we do what He requires of us ; and that He will provide the things neces sary for this life if we ask for them as we ought. Hope brings such bright ness and happiness into our lives, that we might have thought a command concerning it would be unnecessary. But God knows how ready we are to despond whenever trouble or difficulty comes in our way. Hence He has laid it upon us as a command to hope in Him and to hope always. More than this, we may not weaken our hope by giving way to discouragement. God is always merciful. He will forgive us whenever we turn to Him with sorrow after falling into sin, and He will never let us be tried beyond our strength. But we must not sin by presumption. To expect that He will give us Heaven when we are breaking His Command ments, or that He will preserve us from sin when we wilfully go into the occa sions of sin, or to live in mortal sin rely ing on His mercy for the hour of our death — this is not the virtue of hope, but a sin against the First Command ment. We are bound to make acts of hope, especially in time of temptation, and at the hour of death, and to show our hope in God all through life, by Prayer. To do any good work towards our salvation we need the help of God's grace, which we obtain chiefly by prayer and the holy sacraments. "Ask and you shall receive," says our Blessed Lord. Prayer is the raising up of our mind and heart to God, by thinking of Him, by adoring, praising, and thank ing Him, and by begging of Him all blessings for soul and body. Prayer, then, is not all asking. To lift up our hearts to God in joy and thankfulness when things go well with us, is prayer. To bow our heads and 388 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. our hearts in patient resignation in our hours of trouble and of mourning, is prayer. To praise God for what He is in Himself, for His goodness, His glory, His mercy, this is the highest prayer. In the Our Father, the best of all pray ers, our Lord teaches us the chief things to be desired and prayed for. To pray well, we must think of God or of what we say. If our mind wan ders, we must recall it as well as we can. Wilful distractions are sinful, and displease God. This does not mean that we are never to think of our busi ness or our worries when we speak to God. Prayer is a loving conversation with our Heavenly Father, who bids us ask Him like little children for all we want. If we are tired or anxious, if we cannot see how to make ends meet, if a coming trial frightens us, we may take our trouble straight to Him, who can and will help us. Loving Trust. Above all, we should turn to Him when sin weighs us down. He does not want even mortal sin to hinder us from turning to Him with loving trust. Whatever we have done, and however often we have done it, He loves us still, and forbids us to be discouraged and think it is no use trying. He holds out His arms to us ; He calls us back to Him, He promises to forgive us and restore to us all we have lost. How ever far a sinner may have wandered, he can always pray, and prayer is a cer tain means of recovering the friendship of God. Therefore we must never give up prayer ; it is the rope thrown out to the drowning man, to which he must cling if he would be saved. And we must never think God does not hear Us because the answer is long in coming. He always hears. But He expects us to wait and to trust. If what we ask is good for us, He will give it sooner or later. If it is not good for us, He will give us something better instead. The Angels and Saints. Because our prayers are poor and weak, the Church encourages us to ask the Saints and Angels to pray for us. They stand in the presence of God, they are very dear to Him, and He willingly hears their prayer for their poor breth ren who are still in the midst of trouble and danger. It is a great joy to them to pray for us, and we should be foolish indeed to neglect such a means of grace. Some people tell us that they go straight to God. So do Catholics ; none go straighten But sometimes they do like the so-called friends of Job. God was angry with these men for their cruelty to His afflicted servant, and when they went straight to Him for forgiveness, He said to them, " Go to my servant Job, and My servant Job shall pray for you. And the Lord accepted the face of Job when he prayed for his friends." We go straight to God, but we take the advice of God Himself, and go in good company. Mary, Mother of God. Among our intercessors in Heaven is one whose office, holiness, and power with God place her far above the Angels and Saints. It is Holy Mary, the Mother of God. Mary is truly Mother of God because she is Mother of a Divine Person, because her Son who took His human nature from her is truly God. In raising Mary to so wonderful A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 389 a dignity, God has exalted her above all other creatures ; the highest angel is his servant ; she is His Mother. Because of her nearness to Him, He was bound for His own sake to save her from all that could displease Him in her, and to enrich her with all the grace that would make her pleasing in His sight, and worthy, as far as a creature could be worthy, of the relation in which she was to stand to Himself. Would He endure sin in one who was to be so closely united to Him ? Must He not do for His Mother what He had done for the angels and for Adam and Eve — create her soul free from sin and in friendship with Himself? The Church teaches that no stain of sin, original or actual, ever touched her. She was brought into being like other children, but, unlike all others, she was preserved from the original stain, and came into existence fair and pleasing in God's sight. The Precious Blood of her Divine Son, that was to win pardon for us, did more for her by preserving her from sin. Christ died for Mary as for us, and so in her hymn of praise she says, ' ' My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." She is the first among the saved, only saved more grandly than any other. This privilege of exemption from original sin is called the Immaculate Conception. It is God we glorify in honoring Mary. We praise Him for His one perfect crea ture, for her privileges, her dignity, her holiness, and for the power He has given her with Himself. For He who came to us by her, has willed to shew us favor through her. Because she is so near and dear to Him, the Church would have us reverence and love her, and in all our necessities fly to her as to a mother. This we do whenever we say the Hail Mary. We ask her who is blessed among women to pray for us sinners ; to pray for us now, in the needs of the present day and hour ; to pray for us, above all, in that hour of our death which is to decide our eternity. The Church never separates the Mother from the Son. Three times each day she calls her chil dren by the Angelus bell to thank God for the Incarnation of His Son, and to bless her by whom God-made man was given to us. Thus, in every age and land and tongue do Catholics fulfil Mary's own prophecy, " All generations shall call me blessed." CHARITY. The Ten Commandments. We are bound to love God because He is infinitely good in Himself and infinitely good to us. The love we are commanded to have is not an affectionate feeling, but a preference of Him above all things, so that we would not lose His friendship for the love or fear of anything whatsoever. We show that we love God by keeping His Com mandments. Of these the. first three concern our duty to God, the seven oth ers our duty to our neighbor and to our selves. The First Commandment. By the First Commandment we are commanded to worship the one true and living God, by Faith, Hope, Charity, and Religion. The sins against Faith are all false religions, wilful doubt, dis belief, or denial of any article of Faith, 390 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. and also culpable ignorance of the doctrines of the Church. We expose our selves to the danger of losing our Faith by neglecting our spiritual duties — the Sacraments, Mass, morning and night prayers, daily examination of con science, grace at meals, etc. — by read ing bad books, going to non-Catholic schools, and taking part in the services or prayers of a false religion. The sins against Hope are despair and presumption. The chief sins against Religion are the worship of false gods or idols, and the giving to any creature whatsoever the honor which belongs to God alone. The First Commandment forbids us to give divine honor to the angels and saints, but we should give them the inferior honor due to them as the special friends of God ; and we should give to relics, crucifixes, and holy pictures a relative honor, as they relate to Christ and His Saints, and are memorials of them. Superstitious Practices. This Commandment forbids all deal ing with the devil and superstitious practices, such as consulting spiritual ists and fortune-tellers, and trusting to charms, omens, dreams, and such like fooleries. We must hold in horror any thing that might weaken our Faith. Cheap books that attack the very foun dations of Faith — belief in God, the soul, the life to come — are scattered broadcast over the land. Men and women of every class, boys and girls, read them, and to thousands such reading means the loss of all Faith. We may not thus endanger our soul, and risk what is more precious than life. If Hope and Charity are lost, we may recover both by means of Faith. But if Faith itself fails, only a miracle of grace can restore it, and set our feet again in the way of salvation. The Second Commandment. The Second Commandment requires us to speak with reverence of God and all holy persons and things, and to keep our lawful oaths and vows. It forbids all false, rash, unjust and unnecessary oaths, as also blaspheming, cursing, and profane words. The Third Commandment. The Third Commandment requires us to keep the Sunday holy. The Church tells us this is to be done by hearing Mass and resting from servile works. Unless excused by some lawful reason, such as sickness, or grave dan ger of sickness, the necessity of remain ing with little children, very bad weather, or great distance from church, every Catholic who has come to the use of reason is bound under pain of mortal sin to hear Mass on Sundays and Holy- days of Obligation. The duty of hearing Mass is not ful filled by hearing a part of a Mass or a part of two. We are bound to be pres ent at all the principal parts of one Mass, that is, from the Offertory to the Priest's Communion. It is a venial sin to be absent or late through our own fault during a less important portion of the Mass. Masters and mistresses are bound to see that those dependent on them are able to hear Mass on Days of Obligation. Children of seven years of age are as much bound to hear Mass on Sundays and Holy-days as grown-up people. If they miss Mass or are late through their parents' neglect, how can such parents A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 391 be excused from the guilt of mortal sin ? Of course, it is not enough to be bodily present at Mass. We must unite ourselves in some way with what the priest is doing at the altar, and raise our minds and hearts to God in prayer. We may follow the words and actions of the priest, and it is well to unite with him at least at the chief parts of'the Mass — the Offertory, Consecration, and Priest's Communion. We may say our beads or other prayers, or think of the sufferings and death of Christ which the Mass com memorates. But there must be rever ence, attention, and prayer of one kind or another. It is a sin to talk, laugh, eat, sleep, or allow our minds to be filled with wilful distractions. The Holy Sabbath. We are commanded to rest from un necessary servile work on Sunday. Servile work is that in which the body is chiefly engaged. Liberal works which engage the mind more than the body are not forbidden. Innocent recreation that does not draw us from religious duties or give reasonable scandal is al lowed. But we must remember that we are commanded to rest from servile work that we may have time and op portunity for prayer, going to the Sac raments, hearing instructions, and read ing good books. Therefore if we can hear a sermon or go to Benediction it is well to do so. Children who need instruction in Chris tian doctrine should be sent to Cate chism. Priests are obliged to instruct their people, and remind them fre quently of the things they are bound to remember if they would save their souls. What, then, is to be said of those who avoid such reminders, and never hear a sermon if they can help it ? The Fourth Commandment. Th^ love of our neighbor proves our love of God. Among those whom we are bound to love, our parents hold the first place. Children who love, honor, and obey their parents are in a marked degree protected and blessed by God. Undutiful children are often signally punished by Him. We have to love our parents not with a natural affection only, because of all they have done for us, but because they hold the place of God, and He commands us to honor and to love them. We are bound never to sadden our parents by neglect or by unkind be haviour. We are forbidden to speak rudely to them, and still more to ridi cule, threaten, or strike them. We should hide and excuse their faults, and help them in their needs both of soul and body. In serious sickness we must redouble our care, warn them of their danger, and get them the Sacraments in good time. After their death we should, if we are able, have masses said for the repose of their souls, and pray much for their deliverance from Purga tory. Children are bound to obey their par ents in all that is not sin. Even when of age, married, or independent, they are bound to love and reverence them. Those commands of parents are of most importance which concern the salvation of the soul, such as religious duties, companions, amusements, late hours, and the like. We are commanded to obey, not our parents only, but also our Bishops and pastors, the civil authorities, and our 392 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. lawful superiors. Our Bishop is ap pointed by the Vicar of Christ to govern the diocese to which we belong ; we are bound, therefore, to reverence and obey him as the shepherd of our souls. We owe a like duty to priests sent by the Bishop to administer the Sacraments, to teach us the truths of our Faith, and to guide us to eternal life. The priest makes us children of God by holy Baptism, feeds us with the Bread of Life in Holy Communion, heals the wounds of our souls in the Sacrament of Penance, teaches us in sermons and instructions, comforts us in sorrow, counsels us in doubt, en courages us in temptation, visits our sick-bed, and soothes our last moments with the consolations of religion. We are bound to honor him as the minister of God, to treat him and speak of him with respect, to be guided in what con cerns our soul by his advice. Civil Authorities. Respect and obedience are also due to the civil authorities — the King, and those appointed to maintain peace and order in the State. We are forbidden to rebel against our rulers, and to be long to any Secret Society that plots against the Church or State, or to any Society that by reason of its secrecy is condemned by the Church. We are bound to pay the taxes, and to obey the laws of our country as long as these are not against the Command ments of God. This duty of obedience to lawful superiors does not cease, be cause those superiors are bad, so long as they do not call on their subjects to do what is bad. Wives are commanded to be subject to their husbands. Servants are bound to respect, obedi ence, and fidelity to those whose service they have entered. They may not be insolent to their master or mistress, or expose their faults or family secrets. They are bound to obey their lawful commands in the duties for which they are engaged, and to take care of all en trusted to them. Masters and mistresses are bound to treat with kindness those subject to them, to provide them with proper food and lodging, and to give them oppor tunity for religious instruction, hearing Mass, and going to the Sacraments. They are obliged to protect them from dangerous occasions of sin, to require only reasonable work of them, and to pay them just and reasonable wages. Parental Love. By the Fourth Commandment parents are bound to provide for their children, to instruct and correct them, to give them good example, and a good Catho lic education. A first duty after birth is immediately to have the child bap tized. It is a duty that is frightfully neglected. There are mothers who keep their children for days and weeks without Baptism, though they know that if it dies without the Sacrament it will never see God. To keep a child without baptism for any length of time, unless for some very grave reason, is a serious sin. The Church says, " Babes are to be brought to the font for baptism as soon as it can possibly be done, that a Sacrament with out which no one can be saved may not be put off, to the danger of the child's soul." " As soon as possible " means, when there is someone to bring the baby and the baby can safeiy be brought. A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 393 The training of little children cannot begin too early, and it is a duty on which the salvation of parents as well as of their children may well depend. From their earliest years they must be taught the law of right and wrong, and be kept as far as possible from seeing or hearing evil. A child begins to notice and to imitate long before it can speak. How terrible will it be for the father or mother whose example has given it its first lesson in wickedness, who have set the little feet on the road that leads straight down to hell ! Precious Souls. But how happy are those parents who, remembering that God will require a strict account of the precious souls en trusted to them, guard them, from the beginning, from all that could bring them harm ! Very early the mother should guide the little hand to make the sign of the Cross. Very soon should she lead her child to the love of Jesus and Mary. On her knee, from her lips, it should learn its first prayers and the first sim ple lessons of the Catechism. She must be on the watch as its natural dis position begins to appear. It must be gently but firmly checked as naughty ways show themselves. It must learn that the word of father or mother is to be obeyed at once, that it will not get what it wants by temper or by tears. As it grows older it must be taught its duties as a Catholic — Mass ; prayer, morning and night ; examination of conscience — and be trained to habits of truthfulness, industry, reverence for God and holy things, obedience to the laws of God and the Church. All this it should learn at home, and more by example than by word. When the time comes for First Confession, First Communion, Confirmation, it is the mother's place to see that the child is properly prepared ; and she must see that it afterwards goes regularly to its religious duties. Parents are bound to give their children a good Catholic education, and to guard them against companions, amusements, and reading, that might be occasions of harm. Children should be in bed early, and ought never to be out in the streets at night. In dealing with their children parents should avoid harshness and abuse, dislikes and partiality, and should spare no effort to make a com fortable and happy home for them. Correction must be just and moderate, not given when the parent is in a tem per, not injurious to the child. Above all, parents should set an ex ample to their children in the practice of morning and evening prayer, going to Mass and the Sacraments, the ob servance of honesty, sobriety, and the Church's law of abstinence. Let them avoid quarrelling, bad words, and words that injure their neighbor's character, and remember that what a child learns at home is, good or evil, learned for life. The Fifth Commandment forbids all wilful murder. Except in just war, in self-defence, or in the name of the law, we may not take the life of another. Neither may we take our own, either by direct suicide or by such vices as shorten life. The drunk ard sins against this Commandment. Not murder only, but the sins that lead to it — fighting, quarrelling, and injurious words, anger, hatred, and revenge — are forbidden by the Fifth 394 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. Commandment. Scandal, also, and bad example, by which is meant any word or deed calculated to lead another into sin. All these come under sins against this Commandment, because they lead to the injury and spiritual death of our neighbor's soul. The Sixth and Ninth Commandments forbid whatever is contrary to holy purity in thoughts, words, or actions. With regard to thoughts, it is import ant to remember that what is not wilful is not sinful. A thought may haunt us for days together, but as long as we would gladly be rid of it, and try to turn our mind away from it, there is no sin. Immodest plays and dances are forbidden by the Sixth Commandment, and it is sinful to look at them. This Commandment also forbids im modest songs, books, and pictures, be cause they are most dangerous to the soul and lead to mortal sin. We must beware of curiosity if we would avoid sin. We must resolutely deny our selves such companions and amuse ments, such newspapers and novels, as we know to be dangerous. And we must avoid idleness. The Seventh Commandment forbids all unjust taking or keeping what belongs to another ; for example, engaging in unjust lawsuits, borrowing with no intention of hope of being able to pay back, extravagance, to the injury of one's family and creditors, the taking of perquisites, without permission, by servants and others, negligence in doing the work which we have undertaken as teachers, workmen, servants, or in ful filling the conditions of a contract as to time, materials, or manner. This Commandment forbids all man ner of cheating in buying and selling, such as using false weights and mea sures, adulterating goods, also the wil ful destruction of another's goods, the wasting of a master's time or property, and any other way of wronging our neighbor. We are bound to restore ill-gotten goods if we are able, or else the sin will not be forgiven ; we must also pay our debts. Those who are careless in pay ing their debts should remember that of the four sins crying to Heaven for vengeance, two are " Oppression of the poor" and "Defrauding laborers of their wages." Many a poor dressmaker has been ruined by the withholding of the money which she has lost her night's rest to earn. It will be no excuse to say we did not think of this. The poor are timid, and afraid to press for what belongs to them. But ' those who, relying on their help lessness, are cruel to them, will have a terrible account to settle when the day of reckoning comes. As restitution of ill-gotten goods is often a matter of great difficulty, we should consult our confessor on the sub ject. He knows what human weakness is, he is our friend, always ready to put his knowledge and experience at our service ; ways of helping us that we should never have thought of will occur to him — what a mistake to be afraid to ask the counsel that we need ! The Eighth Commandment guards our neighbor's good name. It forbids all false testimony, rash judg ment, and lies. False testimony is saying in a court of justice what we know to be untrue. Rash judgment is condemning our A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 395 neighbor in our own mind for a fault for which there is not sufficient evi dence. A lie is any word or act by which we intend to deceive. There are four kinds of lies ; jocose lies, those told in jest ; lies of excuse, told to escape some evil ; malicious lies, told to injure another ; sacrilegious lies, told to the Holy Ghost, in confession, a false oath. Jocose lies and lies of excuse, that harm no one, are generally venial sins only. Mali cious lies are mortal or venial according to the harm intended. Sacrilegious lies are always mortal. If an untruth told in jest is so absurd as to deceive no one, there is, of course, no sin at all. Calumny, detraction, and tale-bearing are also forbidden by this Command ment. Calumny is taking away our neigh bor's character by telling lies of him. Detraction is making known his secret faults without sufficient cause. To publish a fault that is known to most persons in a place, or to so many that it must soon become public, is not detrac tion, but it may be against charity, be cause it is not loving our neighbor as ourselves. Any words which harm a person, and not a person only, but an institution, a college, a hospital, by les sening, without good reason, the good opinion had of them, are sinful. The guilt of the sin is multiplied by the number of persons who hear the harm said. It is hardly possible to avoid hearing detraction : sin comes in when we listen to it willingly and encourage it by ask ing curious questions that bring out the misdoings of others. We may not be able to prevent uncharitable conversa tion, but we may at times be able pru dently to change the subject ; at least, we can show displeasure by inattention or silence. We should be much on our guard when talk turns on people whom we much dislike or of whom we are jeal ous. A good practical rule is to try to excuse the absent, and not to say of another what we should not like said of ourselves. Tale- bearing to make mischief, or from pure love of gossip, is wrong. But if we know of any improper conduct being carried on, we should make it known to those in authority. To ne glect to do this might make us answer able for such sins by concealment. When we have injured our neighbor by speaking ill of him, we are bound to restore his good name as far as we are able. If we have been guilty of calumny, we must tell those to whom we have spoken that what we said was untrue. If we have detracted, we must try to repair the harm we have done our neighbor by saying some good of him. We should beware, however, of bring ing up again what is forgotten. On this point it is well to ask the advice of our confessor. The Commandments of the Church. We are bound to obey the Church, because Christ has said to the pastors of the Church, " He that heareth you heareth Me ; and he that despiseth you despiseth Me " (Luke x.). There are six chief Commandments of the Church. The First Commandment of the Church is to keep the Sundays and Holydays of Obligation holy by hearing Mass and resting from servile works. The Holy- 396 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. days of Obligation observed in England are Christmas Day, the Circumcision, the Epiphany, Ascension Thursday, Cor pus Christi, SS. Peter and Paul, the Assumption of our Lady, and All Saints. Persons who work in places of business are not bound to hear Mass on the eight Holydays of the Church if this would interfere, injuriously to themselves, with their hours of employment. The Second Commandment of the Church is to keep the days of fasting and ab stinence appointed by the Church, that so we may mortify the flesh and satisfy God for our sins. Fasting [days are days on which we are allowed to take but one full meal, and are forbidden to eat flesh-meat with. out special leave. Besides the chief meal, not to be taken before noon, two ounces of dry bread and something to drink are allowed in the morning, and about eight ounces of solid food at the evening collation. The order of dinner and collation may be reversed. Milk, cheese, and butter, called "white meats," are allowed at dinner and collation most days in Lent, and on all fasting days out of Lent. Fasting Days. I. The forty days of Lent. II. Certain Vigils in preparation for the great Feasts : — The eve of Christ mas Day, December 24 ; of Pentecost ; of SS. Peter and Paul, June 28 ; of the Assumption, August 14 ; of All Saints, October 31. III. The Ember days : — Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday in the first full week of Lent ; in Whitsun week ; after September 14; after December 13. IV. In England the Wednesdays and Fridays in Advent. Abstinence days are days on which we are forbidden to eat flesh-meat, and in Lent "white meats" also without special leave. On these days the usual number of meals is allowed. The days of abstinence are all Fridays except the Friday on which Christmas Day may fall ; and the Sundays in Lent, unless leave be given to eat meat on them. The observance of Lent has long been a usage of the Catholic Church, and the benefits resulting from it are evident. Children come under the law of ab stinence as soon as they are seven years old. Thenceforth they are bound to abstain from flesh-meat on all days of fasting and abstinence, and in Lent from white meats also, except when these are allowed to fasters at dinner. This rule applies to all persons exempt or dis pensed from fasting. They are still bound to abstain ; and if unable to do so, should ask their confessor for a dis pensation, and not dispense themselves. The Third Commandment of the Church is to go to confession at least once a year. Children are bound to go to con fession as soon as they have come to the use of reason and are capable of mortal sin. This is generally supposed to be about the age of seven years. The Fourth Commandment of the Church is to receive the Blessed Sacrament at least once a year, and that at Easter or thereabouts. Christians are bound to receive the Blessed Sacrament as soon as they are capable of being instructed in this sacred mystery. A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 397 The Fifth Commandment of the Church is to contribute to the support of our pastors. It is a duty to contribute to the support of religion according to our means, so that God may be duly hon ored and worshipped, and the kingdom of His Church extended. How unfair some people are to the priest ! We hear them complain that they have not this or that in their church — it is cold or draughty, the vestments are shabby, the flowers are artificial, the singing is bad. But they do not offer to repair or re new the vestments, or to help in the choir. They do not give to their priest as they ought; nay, for some little grievance, many never give to him at all, never go near him, never speak of him except to injure him in the minds of those he has to help. Yet for their sake he has studied long years, and given up the chance of providing for himself in life ; and it is to him they look to bring them the last consolations of the Church when they lie down to die ! His ministrations are prized by all who receive them. The Sixth Commandment of the Church is not to marry within certain degrees of kindred, nor to solemnize marriage at the forbidden times, that is, from the first Sunday of Advent till after the Epiphany, and from Ash Wednesday till after Low Sunday. Marriage in Advent and Lent is un lawful, except with a dispensation, but it is true and valid. Even with dis pensation it is forbidden to celebrate • marriage at these times with the solemn rites of the Church, as nuptial Mass, bells, etc., and with the usual public rejoicings. THE SACRAMENTS. Our soul, like our body, has a life which begins, grows, meets with injury, needs food and medicine. To supply these needs God has provided the Sacra ments, which gives us spiritual life, strengthen, feed, and heal our soul, give it the help of the Christian priest hood and of the Christian family, and comfort it in its passage from this world to the next. All good comes to us from the Pre cious Blood. Not salvation only, but all we want to save our soul — light to see what we ought to do, strength to overcome temptation, forgiveness of sin, grace to take up our cross daily and follow Christ, courage to bear up against the weariness of well-doing, perseverance to the end. It is by the Sacraments that the merits of the Pre cious Blood are applied to our souls. They are thus chief means of our salva tion. There are seven Sacraments — Bap tism, Confirmation, Holy Eucharist, Penance, Extreme Unction, Holy Order, and Matrimony. In every Sacrament there are three things : the outward sign, the inward grace, and the institu tion of Christ. The outward sign is something which can be perceived by our senses. It consists of (i) matter and (2) form. The matter is the sub stance used in giving the Sacrament, as the water in Baptism. The form consists of the words used in applying the matter, as " I baptize thee," etc. The inward grace is the spiritual effect 398 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. produced. For the Sacraments are not merely signs of grace, they give the grace they signify. A little water is poured on the body, and the baby's soul is cleansed from original sin. A few words are said in the confessional, and the chains of sins, which made the soul the slave of Satan, fall off, and it be comes once more the free and happy child of God. God alone can give to an outward sign the power of giving grace. Hence every Sacrament must be instituted by Christ. Because they are His institution there is nothing un certain about the effects of the Sacra ments. As surely as the sun gives light and life, warmth and color to the earth, so surely do the Sacraments give health and spiritual beauty to those who re ceive them worthily. Grace of the Sacrament. Certain dispositions are necessary, but they do not give the grace, they only take away hindrances to the grace the Sacrament gives. When due disposi tions are wanting, the Sacrament of Penance is not really received ; the Holy Eucharist gives no grace ; Bap tism, in the case of adults, Confirma tion, Extreme Unction, Holy Order, and Matrimony produce no grace till the hindrances to grace are removed. The Holy Eucharist was instituted at the Last Supper ; Penance on the day of Christ's Resurrection ; the time of institution of Baptism, Confirmation, Extreme Unction, and Matrimony is not known ; probably it was during the forty days after the Resurrection, when our Lord spoke to the Apostles of the "Kingdom of God." Baptism is the most necessary of the Sacraments, be cause without it we cannot enter heaven. Penance is necessary for those who have committed mortal sin after Bap tism. Confirmation we are obliged to receive if we have the opportunity. The Holy Eucharist must be received about Easter ; Extreme Unction when we are dangerously ill. Holy Order and Matrimony are necessary for the Church as a body, but not for each individual. Baptism, Holy Order, Confirmation imprint a character upon the soul, that is, they leave upon it a mark which for all eternity will be for its glory or for its shame. The Sacraments which give a character cannot be repeated. Baptism and Penance. All the Sacraments give sanctifying grace, which makes the soul pleasing in the sight of God. Baptism and Pen ance are called Sacraments of the Dead because our souls may be dead in sin when we receive them. In this case they give grace where it was not before. The other Sacraments are called Sacra ments of the Living, because our souls must be alive by grace to receive them worthily. These Sacraments increase in the soul the grace they find there. Besides sanctifying grace, each Sacra ment gives its own special grace, called Sacramental, and a title to actual graces. An actual grace is a help given in a particular need — at one time strength to profess our faith ; at another, sorrow to repent of sin ; light to see our way in difficulties, etc. To receive a Sacrament unworthily, that is, without due dispositions, is a grievous sin, called sacrilege. To re ceive the Sacraments worthily is the greatest happiness in the world. Hence we should have a great desire to receive A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 399 them, and prepare ourselves earnestly, for the more fervent our preparation, the greater the grace we shall get, just as a man who takes a large bucket to the well draws more water than an other who takes a small one. Baptism. Baptism is a sacrament which cleanses us from original sin, makes us Chris tians, children of God, members of the Church, and heirs of heaven. Baptism also forgives actual sins, that is, the sins which we ourselves commit, and takes away all punishment due to them when it is received in proper dis positions by those who have been guilty of actual sin. Water is the matter of Baptism. The form is : "I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." The ordinary minister of Baptism is a priest, but anyone may baptize in case of neces sity when a priest cannot be had. All should know how to baptize, for any one of us may have to administer the sacrament when a priest is not at hand. How many nurses have opened the gate of heaven to dying infants ! And not nurses only. A child in charge of a baby brother suddenly taken with a fit, baptized him. An English soldier out in India used to take his morning walk by the seashore to baptize the numbers of infants left there to be washed away by the tide. He could not save their earthly life, but he could bring them to life everlasting. Baptism is given by pouring water on the head of the child, saying at the same time these words : "I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." No tice, the water must touch and flow upon the body ; the same person must pour the water and say the words ; the words must be said at the same time that the water is poured, not before or after. We must have the intention of doing what the Church does and Christ or dained. To receive Baptism worthily, adults must have the beginnings of faith, sorrow for sin, and the intention of receiving the sacrament. There must be a godfather and god mother, or at least one godparent of the same sex as the child, who must be a Catholic, appointed by the parents, and must touch the child at the font. Spon sors undertake to see that the child is brought up in the Catholic faith and in the practice of its religion in case the parents die or neglect this duty. The minister of Baptism and the sponsors contract relationship with the child and its parents, making marriage with any of these unlawful. Confirmation. Confirmation is a Sacrament by which we receive the Holy Ghost in order to make us strong and perfect Christians and soldiers of Jesus Christ. All Catholics who have come to the use of reason and have the opportunity are bound to receive this Sacrament, for without it few would avoid mortal sin. They must be in a state of grace, and sufficiently instructed in the truths necessary for salvation, and as to the nature of the Sacrament they are going to receive. If possible, they should have a good knowledge of the Cate chism. The matter of the Sacrament con sists of the imposition of the Bishop's hands and the anointing with holy 400 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. chrism, a substance composed of olive oil and balsam, a fragrant plant of Eastern lands. The form is : " I sign thee with the sign of the Cross, and I confirm thee with the chrism of salva tion, in the name of the Father, , and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." As the Bishop says these words he makes the sign of the Cross with chrism on our forehead. Then he gives a little blow on the check, saying, " Peace be with thee." This is to signify the trials which, as soldiers of Christ, we must expect, and the peace of God which will enable us to bear them all with patience. No one must leave the altar till the chrism has been wiped from his forehead. The special effect of this Sacrament is strength to profess our faith stead fastly, to lead a life worthy of our faith, and to suffer for it if needful. A Patron Saint is chosen at Confirmation. We should often invoke his help, and try to imitate his virtues. One sponsor only is required — a godfather for boys, a godmother for girls. The obligations, spiritual relationship, and impediments to marriage are the same as those of sponsors at Baptism. The Holy Eucharist as a Sacrament. The Sacrament of the Holy Eucha rist is the true Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, together with His Soul and Divinity, under the appearances of bread and wine. The matter of this Sacrament is wheaten bread and wine of the grape. The form is : "This is My Body," said over the bread ; and " This is My Blood of the new and eternal testament, the mystery of faith, which shall be shed for you and for many unto the remis sion of sins," said over the wine. The change of the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ takes place by the power of God when the words of consecration ordained by. Christ at the Last Supper are pronounced by the priest in the Holy Mass. Last Supper. This change is called Transubstan- tiation, that is, a change — not in figure or appearance, but in reality. Our Lord at the Last Supper, said : " This is My Body. This is My Blood." What looked like bread and wine were by His word no longer what they appeared to be, but were His precious body and blood. After the consecration the bread and wine are gone, and on the altar in their stead is He Himself, Body and Blood, and Soul and Divinity, not perceived by our senses, but hidden under the ap pearances of the bread and wine which remain after the substance has been taken away. Though there are two ap pearances, or species, there is only one Sacrament, and under each species Christ is received whole and entire. This Sacrament exceeds all the other Sacraments in dignity. It was insti tuted by our Lord to be a memorial of His love for us, especially in His suf ferings and death ; and to give us, not one grace, but every grace we need. He gives Himself to us to be the food and the life of our souls, our Com panion and Comforter in the troubles of this world, and that the very body by its union with His may be raised to a glorious life at the Last Day. " He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life, and I will raise him up in the last day." ARCHBISHOP RYAN CARDINAL RAMPOLLA STATUE OF POPE PIUS VI. THE STATUE STANDS IN THE CENTRE OF THE MAIN AUDITORIUM OF ST. PETER'S, AND IS ONE OF THE MOST ARTISTIC AND MAGNIFICENT PIECES OF SCULPTURE IN MARBLE IN THE WORLD THE VATICAN-ROUND ROOM IN THE LEONINE TOWER THE PONTIFICAL THRONE IN THE VATICAN, ROME GALLERY OF STATUES IN THE VATICAN %t ^ BLESSING THE PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ST. PETER'S, ROME. HIS EMINENCE JAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS LEONINE TOWER IN THE VATICAN GARDENS PANORAMIC VIEW OF THE VATICAN BUILDINGS AND GROUNDS LIBRARY OF THE VATICAN THIS LIBRARY CONTAINS OVER 220,000 PRINTED VOLUMES AND MANY ANCIENT AND VALUABLE MANUSCRIPTS AN AUDIENCE DAY AT THE VATICAN: THE POPE'S BODY GUARD CROSSING THE SALA CLEMENTINA ON THE WAY TO THE AUDIENCE CHAMBER THE VATICAN. CONDUCTING VISITORS TO THE PRIVATE APARTMENTS OF HIS HOLINESS ONE OF THE TWELVE CARRIAGES IN THE VATICAN STABLES THESE SPLENDID EQUIPAGES ARE KEPT IN THE FINEST CONDITION, THOUGH NEVER USED. CARDINAL VANNUTELLI CARDINAL MARTINELLI A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 401 It is a great sin to receive Holy Com munion unworthily, that is, in mortal sin. St. Paul says : " He that eateth or drinketh unworthily eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not dis cerning the body of the Lord " (r Cor. xi.). To receive Holy Communion worthily we must be in a state of grace. If grace has been lost by mortal sin, this must be forgiven by a good con fession. We must also be fasting from midnight. This means that from twelve o'clock the night before our Commu nion we must not eat or drink anything whatsoever by way of food or medicine. This Sacrament, which is by excel lence the Blessed Sacrament, increases sanctifying grace in our souls, forgives venial sin, and preserves us from mor tal sin. It weakens our evil inclina tions, and is the most powerful means of resisting temptation. The more fer vent the dispositions we bring to Holy Communion, the more grace we shall receive from the visit of our Divine Guest. The Holy Eucharist as a Sacrifice. Sacrifice is the offering to God by a lawful minister of some object falling under the senses, to acknowledge by its destruction or change God's supreme excellence and power over life and death, and our absolute dependence on Him. Hence sacrifice is the highest act of religion, and can be offered to God alone. In all ages of the world God has commanded men to worship Him by sacrifice, and to pay in this way their fourfold duty and debt to Him. As His creatures we are bound (i) to adore Him, (3) to thank Him for all His benefits, (3) to beg pardon for our 26-C F Vol. 2 sins, (4) to ask Him for all we need for soul and body. In the Old Law there were different sacrifices for these differ ent ends. In the New Law there is only one Sacrifice, but one of infinite value, for it is the sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, true God and true Man, really present on the altar, and offered to God for the living and the dead. Priest and Victim. This sacrifice is called the Mass. It is not a different sacrifice from that of the Cross, but the same sacrifice con tinued or renewed in a different and un bloody manner. This sacrifice was foretold by the prophets. It is the "clean oblation" offered to God by " the Gentiles from the rising to the setting of the sun" (Malach. i.). On the altar, as on the Cross, our Lord is both Priest and Victim. But in the Mass our Lord does not really die. He is the " Lamb standing as it were slain" (Apoch. v.). He offers Himself under the appearances of bread and wine, "a high-priest for ever according to the order of Melchisedech " (Ps. cix.). He offers Himself by the hands of His priests. " Do this in commemora tion of Me," He said to His apostles at the Last Supper. He gave them power to do what He had done, and to pass on this power of consecrated bread and wine to their successors, so to "show forth the death of the Lord until He come" (1 Cor. xi.). The Mass, therefore, is not simply a prayer in common, like other public forms of worship. It is an act of awful solemnity — God offering Himself to God, to adore and thank for us, to beg pardon for our sins, and to obtain for 402 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. us all graces and blessings. Our Blessed Lord does all this in our name. He does perfectly for us what we do so imperfectly ourselves. What matter, then, if we do not understand all the priest is saying at the altar. We know what the invisible High-Priest, Jesus Christ, is doing, and we offer ourselves, with all our needs and desires, to God, through Him. If we remember what is going on at the altar — that Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour, is really there, renewing for us the great Sacrifice of the Cross, and applying to our souls the merit of that Sacrifice ; if we remember what we can do by offering this Sacrifice with Him — how we can worship God perfectly, and easily obtain from Him the pardon of our sins, and all we need for ourselves and for those dear to us — we can hardly help hearing Mass well, and drawing down great blessings on ourselves and those we love. Penance. Penance is a Sacrament whereby the sins, whether mortal or venial, which we have committed after Baptism are forgiven. Besides forgiving sin, it also increases the grace of God in the soul. Our Lord instituted this Sacrament when He breathed on His Apostles, saying : Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven (John xx.). Of all God's mercies to us the greatest is His ready forgiveness of sin. Whilst our Blessed Lord was on earth He was called "the Friend of sinners.'' He tenderly received those who came to Him for pardon, and He has left in His Church an easy means by which all may obtain forgiveness of sin. However many, however great they may be, the Precious Blood of Jesus will wash them away if only we are truly sorry for them. The matter of the Sacrament of Pen ance consists of the acts of the penitent — contrition, confession, and satisfac tion. The form is the absolution pro nounced by the priest : " I absolve thee from thy sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' ' The effects are to remove all guilt, both mortal and venial ; to remit punishment, more or less, according to our dispositions ; to restore or increase sanctifying grace ; to give us back our right to heaven and all past merits, which are lost by one mortal sin. Forgiving Sin. The minister is a priest who has re ceived faculties from the Bishop of the diocese. He forgives sin by the power of God in pronouncing the words of ab solution. He is bound, under the most solemn obligation, never to reveal in any way what he has been told in con fession. We have four things to do when we are preparing for confession : " (i) We must heartily pray to God for His grace to help us ; (2) We must carefully ex amine our conscience ; (3) We must take time and care to make a good act of contrition ; and (4) We must resolve to renounce our sins and to begin a new life for the future. (1) We ask the help of God to know our sins, to be truly sorry for them, to confess them as we ought, and to have a firm purpose of avoiding them for the future. (2) We examine our conscience on the Ten Commandments, on the Six Precepts of the Church, on the Seven Deadly Sins, and on the duties of our A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 403 state of life. We are bound to confess every mortal sin which, after a careful examination of conscience, we remem ber. If we leave one out wilfully, or through a careless examination of con science, we make a bad confession ; but if, after trying with reasonable care to examine our conscience, we still forget some mortal sin, it is forgiven, only it must be told in the first confession after it is remembered, because every mortal sin must be confessed once. We are also bound to mention any circumstance that changes a venial sin into a mortal one. Though we are only bound to confess mortal sins, it would not be safe to mention those sins only which we know for certain were mortal, because we are so apt to deceive our selves. The only safe practice is to confess whatever is on our conscience and gives us trouble — certain things as certain, doubtful things as doubtful. Sorrow of Sin. (3) By far the most important part of our preparation is contrition. Sin, even mortal, may be forgiven without confes sion, e. g., if we forget it or are unable to make our confession, but no sin can be forgiven unless we are sorry for it. We must have true sorrow for every mortal sin we have committed. If we confess venial sins only, we must be sorry for at least one of them. And this sorrow must be supernatural, not from any temporal loss or disgrace that sin has brought upon us, but from some motive suggested by faith. There are two kinds of supernatural sorrow or contrition — imperfect and perfect. Inperfect contrition is sorrow for sin chiefly for our own sake, because we have lost heaven, or deserved hell or purgatory. This sorrow will forgive venial sin, and, when joined with con fession and absolution, is sufficient for the forgiveness of mortal sin. Perfect contrition is sorrow because by sin we have offended so good a God. This is the best of all motives, and is so pleasing to God that by it our sins are forgiven immediately, even before we confess them ; but nevertheless, if they are mortal, we are strictly bound to con fess them afterwards. We should often make acts of perfect contrition : "O my God, because Thou art so good, I am sorry for having offended Thee." Perfect Contrition. Many a man struck down by an acci dent has been saved by an act such as this. No one, then, need despair be cause he is dying without a priest. Let him turn to God with all his heart by an act of perfect contrition and a desire of confession, and his sins will be for given. Both perfect and imperfect contrition remit some of the punishment our sins deserve, more or less according to our dispositions. We must earnestly ask God to give us a hearty sorrow for our sins, and we must make use of such considerations as may lead us to it, such as the loss of heaven and the eternal punishment of hell which mortal sin deserves ; our Saviour's bitter sufferings for our sins in the Garden or on the Cross ; the in finite goodness of God in Himself, etc . (4) Lastly, we must have a firm pur pose of amendment ; that is, we must determine, with the help of God, to avoid all mortal sin, and the dangerous occasions of mortal sin — the person, place, or thing that usually leads us 404 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. wrong. If we confess mortal sins, we must have a firm purpose to avoid every one of them for the future. If we con fess venial sins only, we must have a firm purpose to avoid at least one of them. If we have any restitution to make to our neighbor, whether of goods or of good name, we must see how this can best be done. It is a useful practice al ways to accuse ourselves, and to renew our sorrow for some greater sin of our past life already confessed, in order thus to make sure of our contrition and pur pose of amendment. Confession is to accuse ourselves of our sins to a priest approved by the Bishop. A person who wilfully con ceals a mortal sin in confession is guilty of a great sacrilege, by telling a lie to the Holy Ghost in making a bad con fession. Satisfaction is doing the penance given us by the priest. It is well to perform our penance if possible before leaving the Church. This penance helps in a special manner to lessen the temporal punishment our sins have de served. But as it does not generally make full satisfaction for our sins, we should add to it other good works and try to gain indulgences. Indulgences. Sin has two effects upon the soul — the guilt or stain which it leaves upon it, and the debt of punishment to be paid in this life or in the next. The guilt of mortal sin is remitted by the Sacrament of Penance or by perfect con trition. The eternal punishment is re mitted when the guilt is remitted and part of the temporal punishment into which the eternal has been changed. More or less is remitted according to the dispositions of the penitent. The rest of the punishment must be removed either by works of penance, such as prayers, fasting, and alms-deeds by the sufferings of this life, borne with patience ; by the extreme sufferings of Purgatory ; or by Indulgences. Good works also have two effects : they produce merit, which is a title to reward, and they make satisfaction for sin. The good works Christ our Lord did on earth and the satisfaction He thereby made for all human sin were of infinite value. These merits belong to the Church, and she has power to apply them to our soul for the remis sion of punishment no less than for the remission of guilt. Communion of Saints. And because all the members of Christ are bound together in the Com munion of Saints, the good works of the Blessed Virgin and of the Saints, and their superabundant satisfactions, are also applied as satisfaction for the debts of each one of us. No punishment can be remitted till the guilt has been repented of and for given. Then, by fulfilling certain con ditions, as prayer, works of charity, visits to churches, we can gain a remis sion of the temporal punishment due to our sins. This remission is called an Indulgence. Hence we see the ignorance and in justice of those who say that an Indul gence is leave to commit sin. An In dulgence has nothing to do with the guilt of sin, but only with its punish ment; and no punishment can be re mitted by an Indulgence till the sin is forgiven. How much is remitted we A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 405 cannot tell. The judgments of God are an abyss which we must adore rather than seek to comprehend. We know that indulgences are a means of lessening the rigor of those judgments. This should make us try to gain them. The result of our trying we must leave to God ; we cannot know it in this life. A Plenary Indulgence, if fully gained, remits all the punishment till then due. It remits more or less according to the dispositions of the person gaining the Indulgence. A Partial Indulgence re mits a part of the punishment. A Par tial Indulgence of a hundred or of forty days remits as much as would have been remitted by the severe canonical pen ances of former days, but how much this is no one knows. To gain any Indulgence there is re quired (i) a state of grace ; (2) at least a general intention to gain it ; (3) per formance of the works prescribed. Most Indulgences may be applied by way of suffrage to the Holy Souls in Purga tory, that is, they may be offered to God for the souls we pray for, to pay their debt and procure them release from their sufferings. Extreme Unction. Extreme Unction is the anointing of the sick with holy oil, accompanied with prayer. The matter of this Sacra ment is oil of olives, blessed by the Bishop, and the anointing by a priest of the eyes, ears, nostrils, lips, hands, and feet. The form is, " By this holy anointing and of His own most tender mercy, may the Lord forgive thee what ever sins thou hast committed by the sight, by the hearing," etc. The effects of the Sacrament of Ex- 1 treme Unction are to comfort and strengthen the soul, to remit sin, and even to restore health when God sees it to be expedient. A person who is in danger of death by sickness is bound to receive Extreme Unction under pain of mortal sin. Holy Order. Holy Order is the Sacrament by which Bishops, priests, and other min isters of the Church are ordained, and receive power and grace to perform their sacred duties. The matter of the Sac rament is the imposition of the hands of the Bishop. The form consists of the words said by the Bishop in administer ing the Sacrament. This Sacrament impresses a character, and therefore can not be repeated. Matrimony. Matrimony is the Sacrament which sanctifies the contract of a Christian marriage, and give a special grace to those who receive it worthily. No hu man power can dissolve the bond of marriage, and under no circumstances is it ever lawful for either party to marry again during the lifetime of the other. The matter of the Sacrament consists of the persons of the contracting parties, and the mutual consent by which they take each other for man and wife. The form consists of the words by which they express this contract. They are bound to be in a state of grace to re ceive this Sacrament, and should pre pare for it by a good confession. The effect is a special grace to enable them to bear the difficulties of their state, to love and be faithful to one another, and to bring up their children in the fear of God, 406 A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. Those who enter into the contract of marriage are both the ministers and the subjects of the Sacrament. They marry each other. The priest witnesses, rati fies and blesses the contract. To receive the Sacrament validly they must both be baptized, and free from any of the impediments called diriment, which by the law of the Church render marriage invalid and null. Laws of Marriage. These are (i) Holy Orders ; (2) Sol emn Religious vows; (3) Marriage be tween baptized and unbaptized, e. g. Pagans, Jews, Quakers ; (4) Consan guinity, i. e. relationship by blood to the fourth degree, that is, to third cous ins inclusively (unless with dispensa tion ; (5) Affinity, i. e. relationship by marriage to the fourth degree, so that after the death of husband or wife the survivor cannot (unless with dispensa tion) marry a relation of the deceased to third cousins inclusively ; (6) Spirit ual relationship, contracted at Baptism by the minister and the sponsors with the child and its parents ; and at Con firmation, by sponsors with the child and its parents. There are other impediments called impedient or forbidding, which render marriage unlawful (unless with dispen sation) though the marriage is a real one. These are : (1) Clandestinity or secrecy, i. e. without banns or religious rites. In England and Scotland mar5 riage without the presence of a priest is valid, but it is always unlawful and a mortal sin. In Ireland any marriage between Catholics is null and void unless celebrated in the presence of the parish priest and two witnesses. The banns must be published at the princi pal Mass on three Sundays or Holidays of Obligation. If the parties belong to different churches, the banns must be published in both. The Registrar is by the law of the State bound to attend the mar riage. (2) Mixed Marriages, between a Catholic and one who, though baptized, does not profess the Catholic faith. The Church has always forbidden mixed marriages, and considered them unlaw ful and pernicious. When sometimes she permits them by granting a dispen sation, for very grave reasons and under special conditions, there is to be no nuptual Mass, no Blessing. Her priest stands sadly by to witness, not to bless. The conditions are : (a) That all the children that may be born of the mar riage shall be baptized, and brought up in the Catholic Faith, (d) that the Catholic party shall have full liberty for the practice of the Catholic religion. (c) That the Catholic party shall en deavor to convert the other to the Catholic Faith, (d) That no religious marriage shall take place elsewhere than in the Catholic Church. (3) Forbidden times. If marriage at these times is necessary, it must be with dis. pensation, and the solemnization of it is forbidden. (4) Espousals or solemn engagement to marry (without consent of both parties to annul). It is a sacrilege to contract marriage in mortal sin, or in disobedience to the laws of the Church ; and, instead of a blessing, the guilty parties draw down upon themselves the anger of God. Sacramentals. These are sacred objects, words, and actions, by the devout use of which the faithful obtain grace. They are called A SIMPLE EXPLANATION OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE. 407 Sacramentals from a certain resem blance which they bear to the Sacra ments. But there is a great difference between the two. The Sacraments were instituted by our Lord, and in vir tue of His institution give grace by their own power if no obstacle is put in the way. The Sacramentals are instituted by the Church, and for their efficacy de pend chiefly on the dispositions of those who use them. Whatever the Church blesses has a salutary effect on those who use it with faith and piety. The Sacraments are necessary for us ; the Sacramentals, though powerful means of grace, are not absolutely nec essary. The principal Sacramentals are holy water, palms, ashes, crucifixes, rosaries, medals, and scapulars. Prayer and the Sacraments are the chief means for obtaining the grace of God, without which we can do no good work towards our salvation. Hence our use of these means should be fre quent and fervent. By their help we shall be enabled to keep the Command ments, and so enter into life everlasting- he Shepherds and the Kings. BY MOTHER FRANCIS RAPHAEL, O.S.D. OW often, in read ing the Gospels, we want to know more of some of those who figure there. They ap pear for a moment and then disap pear, and we long to follow them afterwards. The young man whom Jesus loved, did he really reject the grace offered ? He went away, but surely he came back later. The widow' s son, what did he do with the life Jesus restored to him? And the woman of Samaria, our Lord's own convert par excellence, what was her after-course? So of the Shepherds ; we just know them for this one moment, and then not a word more ; and, I believe, not even a tradition. Yet they must have been souls very dear to God and highly privileged ; so He has given them the destiny of privileged souls, and kept them in obscurity. Well, at any rate, for this one night of the Nativity they are with us — old friends whom we know well. Shep herds of Bethlehem, that is all we know, not even their names. God seems especially to love the shepherd's life, because it is the type of His own. He is the one chief Pastor, the Good Shepherd ; and He chooses to call faith ful souls His sheep. Abel, Jacob, Moses, David were all shepherds. 408 It is a privileged life, one of contem plation and separation from the world. Shepherds feed their flocks on the hills or in the wilderness. When Moses fed the sheep of Jethro, ' ' he drove the flock to the inner part of the desert, and came to the Mountain of God, Horeb " (Exod. iii. i). This was very different from the court of Pharao. Then God appeared to him in the burning bush. David fed his father's flock at Beth lehem, therefore it was fitting that the birth of the Son of David at Bethle hem should be made known by shep herds. I have said it was a life of contemplation, but also of labor and sacrifice. This same David had to fight with the lion and the bear. And, be sides guarding his flock from wild beasts, the shepherd had to tend them in other ways and in all weathers. We know nothing of the previous history of these shepherds. Simple as they were, they knew the promises of God. They expected the Saviour, and knew He was to be the Son of David. But, when they left their cottages that winter's night, and went out unto the hills to keep the night watches, watch ing their flock, they expected nothing of that which was to come to pass. The night was like other nights, although one fancies it must have had a special sweetness and silence about it. The shepherds sat on the grass, and their sheep fed around them, or lay couched on the soft turf. The stars FINDING OF THE LOST SHEEP. 6t. Matthew IS. 12— 14; St. Luke 15. 3—7 ^v M~- k> N THE FOURTEEN HOLY INTERCESSORS THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. 409 looked down from the blue vault, so calmly and peacefully. "Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, let the earth be opened and bud forth a Saviour '' (Isa. xlv. 8). Of this night we read in the Book of Wisdom, "While all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy Almighty Word leap down from heaven, from Thy royal throne " (Wisdom xviii. 14, 15). The Night Watchers. "All things were in quiet silence," for the shepherds were men of God ; and in the hours of their night-watches they would not break the silence with rude laughter or with idle words. Their hearts were with God. They were neither poets nor prophets ; and yet being pure and faithful souls, they un consciously felt the influence of the hour and the nearness of God and the Holy Angels. Afterwards, perhaps, when they spoke together of the memory of that blessed night, they might have said, "Did not our hearts burn within us, as we lay watching in the silence ?" Often, without knowing any particu lar cause, we do feel such special in fluences. Sometimes when watching before the Blessed Sacrament, or at other times when engaged in ordinary duties, there comes a hush, a sense of peace, as though the world were re moved a million miles away from us. All disturbing thoughts have van ished ; the air is full of a kind of balm ; and we wonder if it may not be that an angel has been by our side and dropped the dewy fragrance from his wings before he passed back to Heaven. So we love to think it must have been with the shepherds, "when all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course." Their hearts were full of peace and worship, when, " behold, an angel of the Lord stood by them." The vision was one fully sensible to their eyes, of exceeding beauty and glory: "The brightness of God shone round about them, and they feared with a great fear." It is the nature of Divine visions, we are told, to inspire fear first, and confidence afterwards. The very humil ity of the shepherds would make them afraid. When Moses saw the burning bush, he put off the shoes from his feet and worshipped. When St. John beheld " One like to the Son of Man " (Apoc. i. 13), he fell at His feet as one dead. And Daniel also, when he beheld the angel Gabriel, fell at his feet fainting, and no strength remained in him. Angelic Brightness. In all probability, the angel who appeared to the shepherds was Gabriel, the Angel of the Incarnation, and his extraordinary splendor is signified by the words that " the brightness of God shone round about." What wonder, then, if the shepherds ' ' feared with a great fear !" Thrice before is S. Gabriel named in Holy Scripture, and each time he utters the words, "Fear not:" to Daniel, to Zachary, and again to our Blessed Lady. " Fear not, Daniel" (Dan. x. 12) ; " Fear not, Zachary " (S. Luke i. 13) ; " Fear not, Mary ' ' (S. Luke i. 30). He always appears as bringing com fort and good tidings, so splendid that he strikes terror into mortal hearts, but 410 THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. so sweet and tender that he reassures them. And to the shepherds also he says, "Fear not" — and though he is not here named, we recognize him by those very words. "Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be to all the people." Not merely tidings of joy, but "good tidings of great joy." Not for you only, but for "all the people." Angels are indeed our sweetest friends — they are always mes sengers of joy. "Father," said the young Tobias, speaking of the angel Raphael, "he gave joy" (Tob. xii. 3). Lying in a Manger. Then the angel went on to speak of the birth of Jesus — " the Saviour who is Christ the Lord," and to give the shepherds the sign by which they should find Him — " You shall find the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger;" then, "suddenly" — what a power of description there is in that word ! — " suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God." It was like the burst of a full organ chorus, following on a sweet strain of music. "A multitude" — the whole heavens seemed full of them, wing upon wing, glory upon glory, a multitude so vast that the shepherds could not num ber them any more than we can number the stars above us. They were a host, an army, in rank and order ; for in heavenly things there is always order ; and their voices made an exquisite harmony as they sang in the ears of the shepherds a new song, heard on earth for the first time that Christmas night, but destined to be re peated in the Holy Sacrifice every day and in every place till the end of time — Gloria in excelsis ! ' ' Glory to God in the highest !" Happy shepherds, to be the first to hear it ! Happy shepherds, for, beyond a doubt, they must have been " men of good will," or they would not have been chosen to hear it from the lips of angels. Happy shepherds! to be the first to taste that peace, which was the Christmas gift which angels that nighfc brought from heaven to earth. "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will." Oh, if it could but be so ! If this might be all, and nothing more ! To God glory, and glory in the highest. His due — His rights — His name hal lowed — His kingdom come! Peace and Good Will. On earth — the poor earth, torn by divisions and suffering, and wars and fighting, and sin — peace ; and for men, that they may taste this peace — good will ! If only all might be " men of good will !" If only malice might flee away for ever! Weakness there will be and misery, but not malice, no more malice, only good will ! The song was ended, and the angels "departed from them into heaven." How the shepherds must have strained their eyes to follow them ! Did they depart suddenly as they came? And, when they were gone, did all seem as it seemed before? Yes, there was the quiet hillside; there were the gentle stars above, and below the soft turf, and the sheep couched there undisturbed. Angels come and go often enough on this earth, and men do not heed. I do not suppose that any one in Bethlehem or on the roads leading to the mountain THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. 411 had seen any glory or heard the angelic canticle. So perhaps often enough angels are round about us, in the sanct uary at Mass, in our choir, or our clois ters, or among the trees of the garden, and we know it not. They walk beside us, they whisper to us in moments of desolation, "Fear not." They move us to give glory to God. They bring us peace ; it flows in upon us in floods, and we wonder whence it comes, not perceiving the angel-messenger. They are ever plead ing for men of good will ; and we feel the good desire awakening in our hearts, and owe it to the unseen guard ian-friend who never forgets us. And so that night only the shepherds had seen and heard the angels. When at last they departed, only one thought was in the minds of all : " Let us go over to Bethlehem, and see this word which has come to pass, which the Lord hath shown us." The Shepherds' Haste. They did not say, " Let us see if this word has come to pass," but "Let us go and see it." And they went " with haste." They left their flocks without solicitude, probably without a thought. The angels would guard them. Any how, what they had to do was to go over to Bethlehem, and to go with haste. It reads as if Bethlehem lay on the other side of the valley — how far off we know not. Nor do we know how they were directed to the cave used for a stable ; all we know that ' ' they found Mary and Joseph and the Infant lying in the manger," even as, the Angel had told them ; and beholding, they believed. They were the first adorers of the Holy Child, after His Blessed Mother and S. Joseph, and beholding Him, " they un derstood of the word that had been spoken to them concerning this child." They "understood," for the angels had opened their understanding, and they had obtained the great illumina tion of Divine faith. So they believed and adored. Here then we see them, as we so often like to represent them, kneeling before the crib. There is the new-born Infant, delighted to receive the homage of His first worshippers; Joseph and Mary ; the stable, the ox, the ass, the manger and the straw, and the shepherds : we see it all. Praising God. It is a scene which the Church has taken possession of and made her own. Century after century it is reproduced every Christmas night in every Chris tian household. It is dear to us all : old men and children kneel there with the shepherds and bless the name of the Lord. The shepherds, from that mo ment, become dear old friends : we could never keep Christmas without them. We always salute them, saying, Quid vidistis, Pas tores? "What, O shep herds, have ye seen ?" We are told a little more about them ; for we read that they related all that happened, and that those who heard "wondered." " But Mary kept all these words, pond ering them in her heart." Happy shepherds! we say again, whose words deserved to be kept and pondered in the Immaculate Heart of Mary! Lastly, we read that " they returned glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them." They returned to their cottage homes, 412 THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. and to their sheep, which they had left on the mountains. They returned, I think, to their shepherd life : none other would ever be so dear to them, so full of sweet and sacred memories. They would love to lead their flocks again and again to those same pastures, and to keep the night watches over them on the same hills. From time to time they would speak together of that night, and of its glory and its joy, and together they would sing the words they had heard sung by the host of heaven, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will!" The Starry Heavens. What is there half so wonderful and beautiful as the starry heavens ? The sea is very vast, and it gives us a feel ing of the infinite, but nothing like the heavens. World upon world, we can not count them ; and we know that, far beyond where our eye can reach, there are more and more, all suns and worlds, bigger and more magnificent than our own little world, and rich in every kind of variety. Then we know all about the sea. We can sail on it, plunge into it, and meas ure it. But the stars in their beauty are far beyond our grasp. We know nothing of their history, except that God made them ; and so they declare His glory, and show themselves to be His handiwork, and tell us that the boundless universe is as nothing to the infinite God who created it. But how beautiful it is ! And, though science may reveal to us all that is mov ing and changing in it, to our eye one of its chief features is silent, change less repose. Millions of years ago, be fore I existed, there shone and twinkled those lovely stars. Job saw Orion as I see it, and the Pleiades ; and he watched them from the great plains of Arabia, and knew something about them which we do not know when he spoke of their "sweet influences." O gentle light of stars! what have you looked down on all these years ? You two linked beauties in Lyra! You shone just above the fir-grove that was opposite my window when I was a child, when Cassiopeia used to shine over the sea. How often I watched you in those nights, before I knew what to believe or what to love except beauty. Sixty years have fled away, and there you are still ; and you seem to say to me, " Yes, go on loving beauty ; only let it be the Beauty that will never fade." Desolate Wastes. These stars, bright as they are to us, are far brighter and more beautiful in the heavens which stretch over the wide plains of Arabia and Assyria. There is not much beauty in these plains : no hills, no woods, only desolate wastes of sand and rock ; and all round about, the wide, unbroken horizon. But in that clear atmosphere the stars have a beauty we cannot picture to our selves here. There is nothing else to attract the eye; and for that reason, perhaps, they came to be so very much to the wise men of that country. They had no mountains or romantic glens to love, as people love them who are born in such places. They had nothing but the stars: and so the stars were all in all to them. Almighty God is so great that He speaks to us in the way each one of us THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. 413 best understands. He had given our first parents a great promise, which was to be their faith, the one article of their Creed. It was the promise of a Saviour who was to come ; and this promise was handed on to all people and all nations, now in one shape, and now in another ; and prophet after prophet repeated it, and their words were listened to, and laid up, and became the sacred books of the old Jewish and Gentile world. To the dwellers in the wild Eastern wilderness, a prophet of God announced this promise by foretelling that one day a star would tell of His coming. So, century after century, the wise men of those regions, as they watched their beautiful heavens, watched and waited for the star. The Promised Star. The centuries went by, but there was nothing new in those heavens. Perhaps for the most part people grew to think of the prophecy as of a poem or legend, hardly as anything real which was to come to pass. Only a few hearts here and there had taken it in and dwelt on it in faith ; and among these were Gas- par, Melchior and Balthassar. And so, when one night a star ap peared not like other stars, in a spot where before no star had shone, not their science, but the faith that was in them, told them that it was the star promised to their fathers, and that it was there to tell them that the King was born and to lead them to His pres ence. The King! What King! They were Kings themselves, in a way — great chiefs of their people. But the King — there is, and can be, but one real King — the King of kings and Lord of lords. They knew that when He was born He would be King of the Jews. That was part of their revelation. It was not a little thing for these kings at once to resolve to go and find out, and do homage to the King of another nation. They had nothing to do with the Jews, and were not subject to them in any way. Why should they trouble them selves about a Jewish King? But their faith told them that He was more than a Jewish King. He was their King. So they must find Him, and do Him homage. Brought their Best. They would not go empty-handed into the presence of such a mighty sovereign ; they would bring Him the very best they had to give. Gold — that of course is fitting to a king, and it was found in their own land. And so were the myrrh and frankincense. No doubt there were mystical meanings; but I prefer to think that they chose these things because they were the best and choicest things that they had. They must have been some time in col lecting their gifts and preparing for the journey. It was made no secret; but, when people heard what they were going to do, we may suppose that there were plenty of comments. "Going to look for a King of the Jews! what have we got to do with the Jews ? We fought with them in old times, and now we are free of them, and the less we have to do with them the better. And how do they know anything about this wonderful King? They have seen a star! No, you can't be serious — is that all? Oh, that old legend! Well, we 414 THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. have heard of it since we were boys ; but who ever dreamt of setting out on his camel for a long journey because he had seen a star ? But these very wise men do strange things ; too much learning and star-gazing turn their heads." That, and a great deal more, was probably said ; but the three gave it no heed. They had seen the star, and the faith had broken in their hearts. Their King was waiting for them, and they must go and find Him. So they de parted. It was a long journey. Journeys were long and slow in those days. You may watch them going along with their train of camels, encamping at night, and cheering themselves by watching that glorious star. Splendor of Light. It was not like other stars, for it had moved, and seemed to lead the way and bid them follow. There was some thing in its light which seemed to penetrate into their very souls. " O Orient, splendor of eternal light!" — perhaps it was so they prayed — " come and enlighten us who sit in darkness and the shadow of death!" On they went, day after day, night after night; one thing only resolved to do, to follow the star, and with only one thought in their hearts — to find their King ! O truly wise men ! would I were like you — for your star is my star also, the star of faith ; and your King is also my King. At last they reach Jerusalem, for it never crossed their minds that the King could have been born anywhere except in the capitol of his kingdom. And he must have been born in the royal palace, of course ; so they enter the city, and ask to be taken to the king's palace. All the city is in a stir about them. A great train of camels and servants, and men in eastern garb, with rich bales of some sort, all come to ask for the new-born king. "Where is He, for we have seen His star in the East and have come to adore Him ?' ' Herod Troubled. Herod hears it, and he "is troubled." If there is another king born, he must be a rival and an enemy. But the dreadful part of it is that he believes it is the fulfilment of a prophecy. He understands that it is of Christ that they are speaking, and he knows that Christ is the real King, and that He is to come ; and so he calls together the chief priests and scribes and inquires of them where, according to the sacred books, Christ is to be born. And he does this, that, having found Him out, he may kill Him. This is the way of the world. The kings of the earth take counsel together ' 'against the Lord and against His Christ " (Ps. ii. 2). They believe there is a Christ and they try to kill Him. They are doing that at the present day. Lucifer tried the same experi ment in heaven. He knew there was a God, and believed in Him, and made war on Him, and tried to dethrone Him ; and still the world goes on play ing Lucifer's game, to meet with Luci fer's reward. The wise men hear that the king must be born at Bethlehem, and to Beth lehem they prepare to go. But, alas ! when they reached Jerusalem their star had disappeared. Was it, then, all a dream, a deceit? No: shame on the THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. 415 thought! They have another star, an other light in their hearts — the clear light of faith. The King is born in Bethlehem, so to Bethlehem they must go; and turning find the King in this crowd, none of whom seemed of kingly rank? But their beautiful star, which after all was no deceit, but had only hidden itself for a while, went before them, out of the WISE MEN OP THE EAST away from the royal city and the king's palace, they set out with their camels for the least of all the cities of the land of Juda. It is a little city of shepherds, full just then of travellers, because every one be longing to it had come from far and near to be enrolled. Where should they PRESENTING THEIR GIFTS. city, to a cave by the wayside of the road which led to the north, a cave which had been turned into a stable or shed for beasts ; and there, over the poor stable the star stood still. There, and there only, would they find their King. "And seeing the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. No wonder! 416 THE SHEPHERDS AND THE KINGS. Those understand their joy who have waited long and wearily for a great bless ing, which always seemed far off and which has come at last. They did not stand outside the cave and give way to bitter disappointment. " What ! a sta ble ! We thought He was going to be a great King. What is the use of giving Him our gold, and frankincense and myrrh ? It will be ridiculous. So this is what we have come this long way to find! — a miserable shed in a wayside cave." No, there was nothing of all this. "They rejoiced with exceeding great joy." It was the joy of believing. On earth there is no joy like that of faith. In Heaven there will be the joy of see ing and possessing, and the kings were to know something of that, too. They had believed in their King, they had sought Him, now they had found Him ; and they were to have the joy beyond all other joys of seeing Him face to face. So they entered into the cave, those three great chiefs, who had prepared themselves torstand in the sumptuous rooms of a royal palace ; they entered the stable, and there "they found the Child with Mary His Mother, and falling down they adored Him; and, opening their treasures, they offered Him gifts." Were they content, think you, when they found the Child with Mary His Mother? Who would not be content? What more could they desire? What beauty was ever like the beauty of that Child, or that of His Virgin Mother ? But the straw, the beasts, the manger, the poverty of it all ! They never gave it a thought. At the sight of the Child, they simply fell down and adored. What ! did they kneel in that miserable straw? Yes, knelt, and prostrated, and kissed His feet, and adored. There is nothing more to say. The long quest of faith has come to its end. The weary feet, the hoping against hope, the long days, and the longer nights — all are forgotten now. They have found Jesus and Mary, the Child and His Moth er, and, prostrate at their feet, they are indeed content. And we, too, shall one day kneel there and find our joy in see ing and believing, for we shall see Him, and shall be satisfied. We have had our long time of waiting ; but we, too, shall one day enter in, and faith shall one day give place to sight. SACRED HEART OF MARY. THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION. The Glories of Mary. BY CARDINAL NEWMAN. OU may recollect, my brethren, our Lord's words when on the day of His resurrec tion He had joined the two disciples on their way to Emmaus, and found them sad and perplexed in conse quence of His death. He said, "Ought not Christ to suffer these things, and so enter into His glory?" He appealed to the fitness and congruity which ex isted between this otherwise surprising event and the other truths which had been revealed concerning the Divine purpose of saving the world. And so, too, St. Paul, in speaking of the same wonderful appointment of God; "It became Him," he says, "for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, who had brought many sons unto glory, to consummate the Author of their salvation by suffering." Elsewhere, speaking of prophesying, or the exposition of what is latent in Di vine truth, he bids his brethren exercise the gift, "according to the analogy or rule of faith ;" that is, so that the doc trine preached may correspond and fit into what is already received. Thus, you see, it is a great evidence of truth, in the case of revealed teaching, that it is so consistent, that it so hangs togeth er, that one thing springs out of an- 27-C F Vol. 2 other, that each part requires and is required by the rest. This great principle, which is exem plified so variously in the structure and history of Catholic doctrine, which will receive more and more illustrations the more carefully and minutely we exam ine the subject, is brought before us es pecially at this season, when we are cele brating the Assumption of our Blessed Lady, the Mother of God, into heaven. We receive it on the belief of ages ; but, viewed in the light of reason, it is the fitness of this termination of her earthly course which so persuasively recommends it to our minds ; we feel it "ought" to be; that it "becomes" her Lord and Son thus to provide for one who was so singular and special, both in herself and her relations to Him. We find that it is simply in harmony with the substance and main outlines of the doctrine of the Incarnation, and that without it Catholic teaching would have a character of incompleteness, and would disappoint our pious expecta tions. Let us direct our thoughts to this sub ject, my brethren ; and with a view of helping you to do so, I will first state what the Church has taught and de fined from the first ages concerning the Blessed Virgin, and then you will see how naturally the devotion which her children show her, and the praises with which they honor her, follow from it. 417 418 THE GLORIES OF MARY. Now, as you know, it has been held from the first, and defined from an early age, that Mary is the Mother of God. She is not merely the Mother of our Lord's manhood, or of our Lord's body, but she is to be considered the Mother of the Word Himself, the Word incar. nate. God, in the person of the Word, the Second Person of the All-glorious Trinity, humbled Himself to become her Son. Non horruisti Virginis uterum, as the Church sings, " Thou didst not disdain the Virgin's womb. " He took the substance of His human flesh from her, and clothed in it He lay within her ; and He bore it about with Him after birth, as a sort of badge and wit ness that He, though God, was hers. He was nursed and tended by her ; He was suckled by her ; He lay in her arms. Dutiful and Obedient. As time went on, He ministered to her, and obeyed her. He lived with her for thirty years, in one house, with an uninterrupted intercourse, and with only the saintly Joseph to share it with Him. She was the witness of His growth, of His joys, of His sorrows, of His prayers; she was blest with His smile, with the touch of His hand, with the whisper of His affection, with the expression of His thoughts and His feelings, for that length of time. Now, my brethren, what ought she to be, what is it becom ing that she should be, who was so favored ? Such a question was once asked by a heathen king, when he would place one of his subjects in a dignity becom ing the relation in which the latter stood towards him. That subject had saved the king's life, and what was to be done to him in return ? The king asked, "What should be done to the man whom the king desireth to honor ? And he received the following apt answer: "The man whom the king wisheth to honor ought to be clad in the king's apparel, and to be mounted on the king's saddle, and to receive the royal diadem on his head ; and let the first among the king's princes and presi dents hold his horse, and let him walk through the streets of the city, and say, Thus shall he be honored, whom the king hath a mind to honor." Nurse and Teacher. So stands the case with Mary; she gave birth to the Creator, and what recompense shall be made her? what shall be done to her, who had this re lationship to the Most High ? what shall be the fit accompaniment of one whom the Almighty has designed to make, not His servant, not His friend, not His intimate, but His superior, the source of His second being, the nurse of His helpless infancy, the teacher of His opening years. I answer, as the king was answered: Nothing is too high for her to whom God owes His human life; no exuber ance of grace, no excess of glory, but is becoming, but is to be expected there, where God has lodged Himself, whence God has issued. Let her "be clad in the king's apparel,'' that is, let the fulness of the Godhead so flow into her that she may be a figure of the in communicable sanctity, and beauty, and glory, of God Himself: that she may be the Mirror of Justice, the Mysti cal Rose, the Tower of Ivory, the House of Gold, the Morning Star. Let her receive the king's diadem THE GLORIES OF MARY. 419 upon her head, as the Queen of heaven, the Mother of all living, the Health of the weak, the Refuge of sinners, the Comforter of the afflicted. And " let the first amongst the king's princes walk before her," let angels and pro phets, and apostles, and martyrs, and all saints, kiss the hem of her garment and rejoice under the shadow of her throne. Thus is it that King Solomon has risen up to meet his mother, and bowed himself unto her, and caused a seat to be set for the king's mother, and she sits on his right hand. Grace and Glory. We should be prepared, then, my brethren, to believe that the Mother of God is full of grace and glory, from the very fitness of such a dispensation, even though we had not been taught it; and this fitness will appear still more clear and certain when we contemplate the subject more steadily. Consider, then, that it has been the ordinary rule of God's dealings with us, that personal sanctity should be the attendant upon high spiritual dignity of place or work. The angels, who, as the word im ports, are God's messengers, are also perfect in holiness ; " without sanctity, no one shall see God ; " no defiled thing can enter the courts of heaven ; and the higher its inhabitants are ad vanced in their ministry about the throne, the holier are they, and the more absorbed in their contemplations of that Holiness upon which they wait. The Seraphim, who immediately sur round the Divine Glory, cry day and night, " Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts! " So it is also on earth ; the prophets have ordinarily not only gifts but graces ; they are not only inspired to know and to teach God's will, but inwardly converted to obey it. For surely those only can preach the truth duly who feel it personally ; those only transmit it fully from God to man, who have in the transmission made it their own. I do not say that there are no excep tions to this rule, but they admit of an easy explanation; I do not say that it never pleases Almighty God to convey any intimation of His will through bad men; of course, for all things can be made to serve Him. By all, even the wicked, He accomplishes His pur pose, and by the wicked he is glorified. Work of Enemies. Our Lord's death was brought about by His enemies, who did His will, while they thought they were gratify ing their own. Caiphas, who contrived and effected it, was made use of to pre dict it. Balaam prophesied good of God's people in an earlier age, by a Divine compulsion, when he wished to prophesy evil. This is true ; but in such cases Divine Mercy is plainly overruling the evil, and manifesting His power, without recognizing or sanctioning the instru ment. And again, it is true, as He tells us Himself, that in the last day ' ' Many shall say, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy Name, and in Thy Name cast out devils, and done many miracles?" and that He shall answer, "I never knew you." This, I say, is undeniable ; it is un deniable first, that those who have pro phesied in God's Name may afterwards fall from God, and lose their souls. Let a man be ever so holy now, he may fall 420 THE GLORIES OP MAR*. away ; and as present grace is no pledge of perseverance, much less are present gifts ; but how does this show that gifts and graces do not commonly go to gether? Again, it is undeniable that those who have miraculous gifts may never theless have never been in God's favor, not even when they exercised them ; as I will explain presently. But I am now speaking, not of having gifts, but of being prophets. To be a prophet is something much more personal than to possess gifts. It is a sacred office, it implies a mission, and is a high dis tinction, not of the enemies of God, but of His friends. Such is the Script ure rule. The First Prophet. Who was the first prophet and preacher of justice? Enoch, who walked "by faith," and " pleased God," and was taken from a rebellious world. Who was the second ? " Noe," who " condemned the world, and was made heir of the justice which is through faith." Who was the next great pro phet? Moses, the lawgiver of the chosen people, who was the "meekest of all men who dwell on the earth." Samuel comes next, who served the Lord from his infancy in the Temple ; and then David, who, if he fell into sin, repented, and was "a man after God's heart." And in like manner Job, Elias, Isaias, Jeremias, Daniel, and above them all, St. John the Baptist, and then again, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John, and the rest, are all especial instances of heroic virtue, and patterns to their brethren. Judas is the exception, but this was by a particular dispensation to enhance our Lord's humiliation and suffering. Nature itself witnesses to this con nection between sanctity and truth. It anticipates that the fountain from which pure doctrine comes should itself be pure ; that the seat of Divine teaching, and the oracle of faith should be the abode of angels; that the consecrated home, in which the word of God is elaborated, and whence it issues forth for the salvation of the many, should be holy, as that word itself is holy. Here you see the difference of the office of a prophet and a mere gift, such as that of miracles. Gift of Miracles. Miracles are the simple and direct work of God ; the worker of them is but an instrument or organ. And in consequence he need not be holy, be cause he has not, strictly speaking, a share in the work. So again, the power of administering the Sacraments, which also is supernatural and miracu lous, does not imply personal holiness ; nor is there anything surprising in God's giving to a bad man this gift, or the gift of miracles, any more than in His giving him any natural talent or gift, strength or agility of frame, elo quence or medical skill. It is otherwise with the office of preaching and prophesying, and to this I have been referring; for the truth first goes into the minds of the speak ers, and is apprehended and fashioned there, and then comes out from them as, in one sense, its source and its parent. The Divine word is begotten in them, and the offspring has their features and tells of them. They are not like " the dumb animal, speaking with man's voice," on which Balaam rode, a mere instrument of THE GLORIES OF MARY. 421 God's word, but they "have received an unction from the Holy One, and they know all things," and, "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty;" and while they deliver what they have received, they enforce what they feel and know." " We have known and believed," says St. John, "the charity which God hath to us." The Sacred Writers. So has it been all through the history of the Church ; Moses does not write as David ; nor Isaias as Jeremias ; nor St. John as St. Paul. And so of the great doctors of the Church, St. Athanasius, St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, St. Leo, St. Thomas, each has his own manner, each speaks his own words, though he speaks the while the words of God. They speak from themselves, they speak in their own persons, they speak from the heart, from their own experience, with their own arguments, with their own deductions, with their own modes of expression. Now can you fancy, my brethren, such hearts, such feelings to be unholy ? How could it be so, without defiling, and thereby nullifying, the word of God ? If one drop of corruption makes the purest water worthless, as the slight est savour of bitterness spoils the most delicate viands, how can it be that the word of truth and holiness can proceed profitably from impure lips and an earthly heart ? No ; as is the tree, so is the fruit. ' ' Beware of false pro phets," says our Lord; and then he adds, " From their fruits ye shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" Is it not so, my brethren ? Which of you would go to ask counsel of an other, however learned, however gifted, however aged, if you thought him un holy? Nay, though you feel and are sure, as far as absolution goes, that a bad priest could give it as really as a holy priest, yet for advice, for comfort, for instruction, you would not go to one whom you did not respect. ' ' Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh;'' "a good man out of the good treasure of his heart bring- eth forth good, and an evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth evil." So, then, is it in the case of the soul; but, as regards the Blessed Mary, a further thought suggests itself. She has no chance place in the Divine Dis pensation; the Word of God did not merely come to her and go from her; He did not pass through her as He visits us in Holy Communion. Humanity of Christ. It was no heavenly body which the Eternal Son assumed, fashioned by the angels, and brought down to this lower world : no ; He imbibed, He absorbed into His Divine Person her blood and the substance of her flesh, by becoming man of her. He received her linea ments and features, as the appropriate character in which He was to manifest Himself to mankind. The child is like the parent, and we may well suppose that by His likeness to her was mani fested her relationship to Him. Her sanctity comes, not only of her being His mother, but also of His being her son. " If the fruit be holy," says St. Paul, " the mass also is holy ; if the mass be holy, so are the branches." And hence the titles which we are accustomed to give her. He is the Wisdom of God, she therefore is 422 THE GLORIES OF MARY. the Seat of Wisdom ; His Presence is Heaven, she therefore is the Gate of Heaven; He is infinite Mercy, she then is the Mother of Mercy. She is the Mother of " fair love and fear, and knowledge and holy hope ; " is it wonderful, then, that she has left behind her in the Church below "an odor like cinnamon and balm, and sweetness like to choice myrrh ?" Such, then, is the truth ever cherished in the deep heart of the Church, and witnessed by the keen apprehension of her children, that no limits but those proper to a creature can be assigned to the sanctity of Mary. Therefore, did Abraham believe that a son should be born to him of his aged wife? then Mary's faith must be held as greater when she accepted Gabriel's message. Acts of Consecration. Did Judith consecrate her widowhood to God to the surprise of her people ? much more did Mary, from her first youth, devote her virginity. Did Samuel, when a child, inhabit the Temple, secluded from the world? Mary, too, was by her parents lodged in the same holy precincts, even at the age when children first can choose between good and evil. Was Solomon on his birth called "dear to the Lord ?" and shall not the destined Mother of God be dear to Him from the moment she was born ? But further still ; St. John the Baptist was sanctioned by the Spirit before his birth; shall Mary be only equal to him ? is it not fitting that her privilege should surpass his ? is it not wonder ful, if grace, which anticipated his birth by three months, should in her case run up to the very first moment of her being, outstrip the imputation of sin, and be beforehand with the usur pation of Satan ? Mary must surpass all the saints; the very fact that certain privileges are known to have been theirs persuades us, almost from the necessity of the case, that she had the same and higher. Her conception was immaculate, in order that she might surpass all saints in the date as well as the fulness of her sanctification. Homage of Love. But in a festive season, my dear brethren, I must not weary you with argument, when we should offer speci ally to the Blessed Virgin the homage of our love and loyalty; yet, let me finish as I began ; — I will be brief, but bear with me if I view her bright Assumption, as I have viewed her immaculate purity, rather as a point of doctrine than as a theme for de votion. It was surely fitting, then, it was be coming, that she should be taken up into heaven and not lie in the grave till Christ's second coming, who had passed a life of sanctity and of miracle such as hers. All the works of God are in a beautiful harmony ; they are carried on to the end as they begin. This is the difficulty which men of the world find in believing miracles at all ; they think these break the order and consistency of God's visible word, not knowing that they do but subserve a higher order of things, and introduce a supernatural perfection. But at least, my brethren, when one miracle is wrought, it may be expected to draw others after it for the completion of what is begun. THE GLORIES OF MARY. 423 Miracles must be wrought for some great end ; and if the course of things fell back again into a natural order be fore its termination, how could we but feel a disappointment ? and if we were told that this certainly was to be, how could we but judge the information im probable and difficult to believe? Now this applies to the history of our Lady. I say, it would be a greater miracle if, her life being what it was, her death was like that of other men, than if it were such as to correspond to her life. Who can conceive, my brethren, that God should so repay the debt, which He condescended to owe to His Mother, for the elements of His human body, as to allow the flesh and blood from which it was taken to moulder in the grave ? Do the sons of men thus deal with their mothers ? do they not nourish and sus tain them in their feebleness, and keep them in life while they are able ? Tyranny of Death. Or who can conceive that that vir ginal frame, which never sinned, was to undergo the death of a sinner? Why should she share the curse of Adam, who had no share in his fall. " Dust thou art, and into dust thou shalt re turn," was the sentence upon sin; she, then, who was not a sinner, fitly never saw corruption. She died, then, as we hold, because even our Lord and Saviour died ; she died, as she suffered, because she was in this world, because she was in a state of things in which suffering and death are the rule. She lived under their external sway ; and, as she obeyed Caesar by coming for enrolment to Beth lehem, so did she, when God willed it, yield to the tyranny of death, and was dissolved into soul and body, as well as others. But though she died as well as others, she died not as others die ; for, through the merits of her Son, by whom she was what she was, by the grace of Christ which in her had anticipated sin, which had filled her with light, which had purified her flesh from all de filement, she was also saved from disease and malady, and all that weakens and decays the bodily frame. Original sin had not been found in her, by the wear of her senses, and the waste of her frame, and the decrepitude of years, propagating death. She died, but her death was a mere fact, not an effect; and, when it was over, it ceased to be. Died to Live. She died that she might live, she died as a matter of form or (as I may call it) an observance, in order to fulfil, what is called, the debt of nature, not pri marily for herself or because of sin, but to submit herself to her condition, to glorify God, to do what her Son did ; not, however, as her Son and Saviour, with any suffering for any special end ; not with a martyr's death, for her mar tyrdom had been in living ; not as an atonement, for man could not make it, and One had made it, and made it for all ; but in order to finish her course, and to receive her crown. And therefore she died in private. It became Him, who died for the world, to die in the world's sight ; it became the Great Sacrifice to be lifted up on high, as a light that could not be hid. But she, the lily of Eden, who had always dwelt out of the sight of man, fittingly did she die in the garden's shade, and amid the sweet flowers in 424 THE GLORIES OF MARY. which she had lived. Her departure made no noise in the world. The Church went about her common duties, preaching, converting, suffering ; there were persecutions, there was fleeing from place to place, there were martyrs, there were triumphs ; at length the rumor spread abroad that the Mother of God was no longer upon earth. Devout Pilgrims. Pilgrims went to and fro ; they sought for her relics, but they found them not ; did she die at Ephesus, or did she die at Jerusalem ? Reports varied ; but her tomb could not be pointed out, or if it was found, it was open ; and instead of her pure and fragrant body, there was a growth of lilies from the earth which she had touched. So inquirers went home marvelling, and waiting for fur ther light. And then it was said, how that when her dissolution was at hand, and her soul was to pass in triumph before the judgment-seat of her Son, the Apostles were suddenly gathered together in the place, even in the Holy City, to bear part in the joyful ceremonial ; how that they buried her with fitting rites ; how that the third day, when they came to the tomb, they found it empty, and angelic choirs with their glad voices were heard singing day and night the glories of their risen Queen. But, however we feel towards the de tails of this history (nor is there any. thing in it which will be unwelcome or difficult to piety), so much cannot be doubted, from the consent of the whole Catholic world and the revelations made to holy souls, that, as is befitting, she is, soul and body, with her Son and God in heaven, and that we are enabled to celebrate, not only her death, but her Assumption. And now, my dear brethren, what is befitting in us, if all that I have been telling you is befitting in Mary ? If the Mother of Emmanuel ought to be the first of creatures in sanctity and in beauty ; if it became her to be free from all sin from the very first, and from the moment she received her first grace to begin to merit more ; and if such as was her beginning, such was her end, her conception immaculate and her death an assumption ; if she died, but revived, and is exalted on high ; what is befit ting in the children of such a Mother, but an imitation, in their measure, of her devotion, her meekness, her sim plicity, her modesty, and her sweetness ? Glories for our Sakes. Her glories are not only for the sake of her Son, they are for our sakes also. Let us copy her faith, who received God's message by the angel without a doubt ; her patience, who endured St. Joseph's surprise without a word ; her obedience, who went up to Bethlehem in the winter and bore our Lord in a stable ; her meditative spirit, who pon dered in her heart what she saw and heard about Him ; her fortitude, whose heart the sword went through ; her self- surrender, who gave Him up during His ministry and consented to His death. Above all, let us imitate her purity, who, rather than relinguish her vir ginity, was willing to lose Him for a Son. Oh, my dear children, young men and young women, what need have you of the intercession of the Virgin Mother, of her help, of her pattern, in this re spect ! What shall bring you forward in the THE GLORIES OF MARY. 425 narrow way, if you live in the world, but the thought and patronage of Mary ? What shall seal your senses, what shall tranquillize your heart, when sights and sounds of danger are around you, but Mary? What shall give you patience and endurance, when you are wearied out with the length of the conflict with evil, with the unceasing necessity of precautions, with the irksomeness of observing them, with the tediousness of their repetition, with the strain upon your mind, with your forlorn and cheer less condition, but a loving communion with her. She will comfort you in your discour agements, solace you in your fatigues, raise you after your falls, reward you for your successes. She will show you her Son — your God and your all ! The Rose of Sharon. When your spirit within you is ex cited, or relaxed, or depressed, when it loses its balance, when it is restless and wayward, when it is sick of what it has, and hankers after what it has not, when your eye is solicited with evil and your mortal frame trembles under the shadow of the tempter, what will bring you to yourselves, to peace and to health, but the cool breath of the Immaculate and the fragrance of the Rose of Sharon ? It is the boast of the Catholic religion that it has the gift of making the young heart chaste ; and why is this, but that it gives us Jesus Christ for our food, and Mary for our nursing Mother? Fulfil this boast in yourselves ! Prove to the world that you are following no false teaching, vindicate the glory of your Mother Mary, whom the world blas phemes, in the very face of the world, by the simplicity of your own deport ment and the sanctity of your words and deeds. Go to her for the royal heart of inno cence. She is the beautiful gift of God, which outshines the fascinations of a bad world, and which no one ever sought in sincerity and was disappointed. She is the personal type and representative image of that spiritual life and renova tion in grace, "without which no one shall see God." " Her spirit is sweeter than honey, and her heritage than the honeycomb. They that eat her shall yet be hungry, and they that drink her shall still thirst. Whoso hearkeneth to her shall not be confounded, and they that work by her shall not sin." Parts of One Whole. We know, my brethren, that in the natural world nothing is superfluous, nothing incomplete, nothing independ ent ; but part answers to part, and all ' details combine to form one mighty whole. Order and harmony are among the first perfections which we discern in this visible creation ; and the more we examine into it, the more widely and minutely they are found to belong to it. "All things are double," says the Wise Man, ' ' one against another ; and He hath made nothing defective.'' It is the very character and definition of " the heavens and the earth," as con trasted with the void or chaos which preceded them, that everything is now subjected to fixed laws ; and every mo tion, and influence, and effect can be ac counted for ; and, were our knowledge sufficient, could be anticipated. Moreover, it is plain, on the other hand, that it is only in proportion to our observation and our research that 426 THE GLORIES OF MARY. this truth becomes apparent ; for though a number of things, even at first sight, are seen to proceed according to an es tablished and beautiful order, yet in other instances the law to which they are conformed is with difficulty dis covered ; and the words "chance," and "hazard" and "fortune," have come into use as expressions of our ignorance. Accordingly, you may fancy rash and irreligious minds, who are engaged day after day in the business of the world, suddenly looking out into the heavens or upon the earth, and criticising the great Architect ; arguing that there are creatures in existence which are rude or defective in their constitution, and asking questions which could but evi dence their want of scientific education. Harmony of Truth. The case is the same as regards the supernatural world. The great truths of Revelation are all connected together and form a whole. Every one can see this in a measure, even at a glance ; but to understand the full consistency and harmony of Catholic teaching requires study and meditation. Hence, as philosophers of this world bury themselves in museums and labor atories, descend into mines, or wander among woods or on the seashore, so the inquirer into heavenly truths dwells in the cell and the oratory, pouring forth his heart in prayer, collecting his thoughts in meditation, dwelling on the idea of Jesus, or of Mary, or of grace, or of eternity, and pondering on the words of Holy men who have gone be fore him, till before his mental sight arises the hidden wisdom of the perfect, "which God predestined before the world unto our glory," and which He " reveals unto them by His Spirit." And, as ignorant men may dispute the beauty and harmony of the visible creation, so men, who for six days in the week are absorbed in worldly toil, who live for wealth, or name, or self-indulg ence, or profane knowledge, and do but give their leisure moments to the thought of religion, never raising their souls to God, never asking for His enlightening grace, never chastening their hearts and bodies, never steadily contemplating the objects of faith, but judging hastily and peremptorily, according to their private views or the humor of the hour. Such men, I say, in like manner, may easily, or will for certain, be surprised and shocked at portions of revealed truth, as if strange, or harsh, or extreme, or inconsistent, and will in whole or part reject it. Worship of Christ. I am going to apply this remark to the subject of the prerogatives with which the Church invests the Blessed Mother of God. They are startling and difficult to those whose imagination is not ac customed to them, and whose reason has not reflected on them ; but the more carefully and religiously they are dwelt on, the more, I am sure, will they be found essential to the Catholic faith, and integral to the worship of Christ. This simply is the point which I shall insist on — disputable indeed by aliens from the Church, but most clear to her children — that the glories of Mary are for the sake of Jesus ; and that we praise and bless her as the first of creatures, that we may duly confess Him as our sole Creator. When the Eternal Word decreed to THE GLORIES OF MARY. 427 come on earth, He did not purpose, He did not work, by halves ; but he came to be a man like any of us, to take a hu man soul and body, and to make them His own. He did not come in a mere apparent or accidental form, as angels appear to men ; nor did He merely over shadow an existing man, as He over shadows His saints, and call Him by the name of God ; but He " was made flesh.'' Christ's Manhood. He attached to Himself a manhood, and became as really and truly man as He was God, so that henceforth He was both God and man, or, in other words, He was One Person in two natures, divine and human. This is a mystery so marvellous, so difficult, that faith alone firmly receives it ; the natural man may receive it for a while, may think he receives it, but never really receives it ; begins, as soon as he has professed it, secretly to rebel against it, evades it, or revolts from it. This he-has done from the first ; even in the lifetime of the beloved disciple men arose who said that our Lord had no body at all, or a body framed in the heavens, or that He did not suffer, but another suffered in His stead, or that He was but for a time possessed of the human form which was born and which suffered, coming into it at its baptism, and leaving it before its crucifixion, or, again, that He was a mere man. That "in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us," was too hard a thing for the unregenerate reason. The case is the same at this day ; mere Protestants have seldom any real perception of the doctrine of God and man in one Person. They speak in a dreamy, shadowy way of Christ's di vinity ; but, when their meaning is sifted, you will find them very slow to commit themselves to any statement sufficient to express the Catholic dogma. They will tell you at once, that the subject is not to be inquired into, for that it is impossible to inquire into it at all without being technical and subtle. Then, when they comment on the Gospels, they will speak of Christ, not simply and consistently as God, but as a being made up of God and man, partly one and partly the other, or between both, or as a man inhabited by a special Divine presence. Substance of the Gospel. Sometimes they even go on to deny that He was in heaven the Son of God, saying that He became the Son when He was conceived of the Holy Ghost ; and they are shocked, and think it a mark both of reverence and good sense to be shocked, when they hear the Man spoken of simply and plainly as God. They cannot bear to have it said, except as a figure or mode of speaking, that God had a human body, or that God suffered ; they think that the "Atone ment," and " Sanctification through the Spirit," as they speak, is the sum and substance of the Gospel, and they are shy of any dogmatic expression which goes beyond them. Such, I believe, is the ordinary char acter of the Protestant notions among us as to the divinity of Christ, whether among members of the Anglican com munion, or dissenters from it, excepting a small remnant of them. Now, if you would witness against 428 THE GLORIES OF MARY. these unchristian opinions, if you would bring out distinctly and beyond mistake and evasion, the simple idea of the Catholic Church that God is man, could you do it better than by laying down in St. John's words that "God became man ?" and again could you express this more emphatically and unequivocally than by declaring that He was born a man, or that He had a Mother ? The world allows that God is man ; the admission costs it little, for God is everywhere, and (as it may say) is every thing ; but it shrinks from confessing that God is the Son of Mary. It shrinks^ for it is at once confronted with a severe fact, which violates and shatters its own unbelieving view of things ; the revealed doctrine forthwith takes its true shape, and receives an historical reality ; and the Almighty is introduced into His own world at a certain time and in a definite way. Sacrifice and Offering. Dreams are broken and shadows de part ; the Divine truth is no longer a poetical expression, or a devotional ex aggeration, or a mystical economy, or a mythical representation. " Sacrifice and offering," the shadows of the Law, " Thou wouldest not, but a body hast Thou fitted to Me." " That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have diligently looked upon, and our hands have handled, that which we have seen and have heard, declare we unto you ;' ' — such is the record of the Apostle, in opposition to those " spirits " which denied that "Jesus Christ had appeared in the flesh;" and which "dissolved" Him by denying either His human nature or His divine. And the confession that Mary is Deipara, or the Mother of God, is that safeguard wherewith we seal up and secure the doctrine of the Apostle from all evasion, and that test whereby we detect all the pretences of those bad spirits of ' ' Antichrist which have gone out into the world." It declares that He is God; it implies that He is man; it suggests to us that He is God still, though He has become man, and that He is true man though He is God. By witnessing to the process of the union, it secures the reality of the two subjects of the union, of the divinity and of the manhood. God With Us. If Mary is the Mother of God, Christ must be literally Emmanuel, God with us. And hence it was, that, when time went on, and the bad spirits and false prophets grew stronger and bolder, and found a way into the Catholic body itself, then the Church, guided by God, could find no more effectual and sure way of expelling them than that of using this word Deipara against them ; and, on the other hand, when they came up again from the realms of darkness, and plotted the utter overthrow of Christian faith in the sixteenth century, then they could find no more certain expedient for their hateful purpose than that of reviling and blaspheming the prerogatives of Mary, for they knew full well that, if they could get the world to dishonor the Mother, the dishonor of the Son would follow close. The Church and Satan agreed together in this, that Son and Mother went together ; and the experience of three centuries has confirmed their testimony, for Catholics who have honored the THE GLORIES OF MAR*. 429 Mother still worship the Son, while Protestants, who now have ceased to confess the Son, began then by scoffing at the Mother. You see, then, my brethren, in this particular, the harmonious consistency of the revealed system, and the bearing of one doctrine upon another ; Mary is exalted for the sake of Jesus. It was fitting that she, as being a creature, though the first of creatures, should have an office of ministration. A Great Mission. She, as others, came into the world to do a work, she had a mission to fulfil ; her grace and her glory are not for her own sake, but for her Maker's; and to her is committed the custody of the Incarnation ; this is her appointed office, — "A Virgin shall conceive, and bear a Son, and they shall call His Name Emmanuel." As she was once on earth, and was personally the guar dian of her Divine Child, as she carried Him in her womb, folded Him in her embrace, and suckled Him at her breast, so now, and to the latest hour of the Church, do her glories and the devotion paid her proclaim and define the right faith concerning Him as God and man. Every church which is dedicated to her, every altar which is raised under her invocation, every image which rep resents her, every litany in her praise, every Hail Mary for her continual memory, does but remind us that there was One who, though He was all-blessed from all eternity, yet for the sake of sinners " did not shrink from the Vir gin's womb." Thus she is the Turris Davidica, as the Church calls her, "the Tower of David;'' the high and strong defence of the King of the true Israel ; and hence the Church also addresses her in the antiphon as having " alone destroyed all heresies in the whole world." And here, my brethren, a fresh thought opens upon us, which is natu rally implied in what has been said. If the Deipara is to witness of Emmanuel, she must be necessarily more than the Deipara. For consider ; a defence must be strong in order to be a defence ; a tower must be, like that Tower of David, "built with bulwarks;" "a thousand bucklers hang upon it, all the armour of valiant men." No Ordinary Person. It would not have sufficed, in order to bring out and impress on us the idea that God is man, had His Mother been an ordinary person. A mother without a home in the Church, without dignity, without gifts, would have been, as far as the defence of the Incarnation goes, no mother at all. She would not have remained in the memory, or the imagi nation of men. If she is to witness and remind the world that God became man, she must be on a high and eminent station for the purpose. She must be made to fill the mind, in order to suggest the lesson. When she once attracts our attention, then, and not till then, she begins to preach Jesus. 1 ' Why should she have such preroga tives," we ask, "unless He be God? and what must He be by nature, when she is so high by grace ? " This is why she has other prerogatives besides, namely, the gifts of personal purity and intercessory power, distinct from her maternity; she is personally endowed that she may perform her office well ; 430 THE GLORIES OF MARY. she is exalted in herself that she may minister to Christ. For this reason, she has been made more glorious in her person than in her office ; her purity is a higher gift than her relationship to God. This is what is implied in Christ's answer to the woman in the crowd, who cried out, when He was preaching, " Blessed is the womb that bare Thee, and the breasts which Thou has sucked." A Higher Blessedness. He replied by pointing out to His dis ciples a higher blessedness ; ' ' Yea, rather, blessed," He said, " are they who hear the word of God and keep it." You know, my brethren, that Protest ants take these words in disparagement of our Lady's greatness, but they really tell the other way. For consider them ; He lays down a principle, that it is more blessed to keep His command ments than to be His Mother ; but who, even of Protestants, will say that she did not keep His commandments ? She kept them surely, and our Lord does but say that such obedience was in a higher line of privilege than her being His Mother ; she was more blessed in her detachment ftom creatures, in her devotion to God, in her virginal purity, in her fulness of grace, than in her maternity. This is the constant teaching of the Holy Fathers : ' ' More blessed was Mary," says St. Augustine, "in re ceiving Christ's faith, than in conceiving Christ's flesh ; " and St. Chrysostom de clares, that she would not have been blessed, though she had borne Him in the body, had she not heard the word of God and kept it. This, of course, is an impossible case ; for she was made holy, that she might be made His Mother, and the two blessednesses cannot be divided. She who was chosen to supply flesh and blood to the Eternal Word, was first filled with grace in soul and body ; still, she had a double blessedness, of office and of qualification for it, and the latter was the greater. And it is on this account that the Angel calls her blessed ; " Full of grace,' ' he says, "Blessed among women;" and St. Elizabeth also, when she cries out, " Blessed thou that hast believed." Mary's Question. Nay , she herself bears a like testimony, when the Angel announced to her the high favor which was coming on her. Though all Jewish women in each sue. cessive age had been hoping to be Mother of the Christ, so that marriage was honorable among them, childless ness a reproach, she alone had put aside the desire and the thought of so great a dignity. She, who was to bear the Christ, gave no welcome to the great announcement that she was to bear Him ; and why did - she thus act towards it? because she had been inspired, the first of woman kind, to dedicate her virginity to God, and she did not welcome a privilege which seemed to involve a forfeiture of her vow. " How shall this be," she asked, "seeing I am to live separate from man ? " Nor, till the Angel told her that the conception would be miraculous and from the Holy Ghost, did she put aside her "trouble" of mind, recognize him securely as God's messenger, and bow her head in awe and thankfulness to God's condescension. THE GLORIES OF MARY. 431 Mary, then, is a specimen, and more than a specimen, in the purity of her soul and body, of what man was before his fall, and what he would have been, had he risen to his full perfection. It had been hard, it had been a victory for the Evil One, had the whole race passed away, nor any one instance in it occurred to show what tie Creator had intended it to be in its original state. Indwelling Grace. Adam, you know, was created in the image and after the likeness of God ; his frail and imperfect nature, stamped with a Divine seal, was supported and exalted by an indwelling of Divine grace. Impetuous passion did not exist in him, except as a latent element and a possible evil ; ignorance was dissipated by the clear light of the Spirit ; and reason, sovereign over every emotion of his soul, was simply subjected to the will of God. Nay, even his body was preserved from every wayward appetite and affection, and was promised immor tality instead of dissolution. Thus he was in a supernatural state ; and, had he not sinned, year after year would he have advanced in merit and grace, and in God's favor, till he passed from paradise to heaven. But he fell ; and his descendants were born in his likeness ; and the world grew worse in stead of better, and judgment after judgment cut off generations of sinners in vain, and improvement was hopeless ; "because man was flesh," and, "the thoughts of his heart were bent upon evil at all times." However, a remedy had been deter mined in heaven ; a Redeemer was at hand ; God was about to do a great work, and He purposed to do it suitably ; " where sin abounded, grace was to abound more." Kings of the earth, when they have sons born to them, forth with scatter some large bounty, or raise some high memorial ; they honor the day, or the place, or the heralds of the auspicious event, with some correspond ing mark of favor ; nor did the coming of Emmanuel innovate on the world's established custom. It was a season of grace and prodigy, and these were to be exhibited in a special manner in the person of His Mother. The course of ages was to be reversed ; the tradition of evil was to be broken ; a gate of light was to be opened amid the darkness, for the coming of the Just ; — a Virgin conceived and bore Him. It was fitting, for His honor and glory, that she, who was the instrument of His bodily presence, should first be a miracle of His grace ; it was fitting that she should triumph, where Eve had failed, and should "bruise the serpent's head ' ' by the spotlessness of her sanctity. Pain of Soul and Body. In some respects, indeed, the curse was not reversed ; Mary came into a fallen world, and resigned herself to its laws ; she, as also the Son she bore, was exposed to pain of soul and body, she was subjected to death ; but she was not put under the power of sin. As grace was infused into Adam from the first moment of his creation, so that he never had experience of his natural poverty, till sin reduced him to it ; so was grace given from the first in still ampler measure to Mary, and she never incurred, in fact, Adam's deprivation. She began where others end, whether in knowledge or in love. She was from the first clothed in sanctity, destined for 432 THE GLORIES OF MARY. perseverance, luminous and glorious in God's sight, and incessantly employed in meritorious acts, which continued till her last breath. Hers was emphatically " the path of the just, which, as the shining light, goeth forward and increaseth even to the perfect day ;" and sinlessness in thought, word, and deed, in small things as well as great, in venial matters as well as grievous, is surely but the natural and obvious sequel of such a beginning. If Adam might have kept himself from sin in his first state, much more shall we expect immaculate perfection in Mary. Such is her prerogative of sinless per fection, and it is, as her maternity, for the sake of Emmanuel ; hence she answered the Angel's salutation, Gratia plena, with the humble acknowledge ment, Ecceancilla Domini, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord." Intercessory Power. And like to this is her third prerog ative, which follows both from her maternity and from her purity, and which I will mention as completing the enumeration of her glories. I mean her intercessory power. For, if "God heareth not sinners, but if a man be a worshipper of Him, and do His will, him He heareth;" if "the continual prayer of a just man availeth much ;" if faithful Abraham was required to pray for Abimelech, "for he was a prophet ;" if patient Job was to ' ' pray for his friends," for he had "spoken right things before God ;" if meek Moses, by lifting up his hands, turned the battle in favor of Israel against Amalec; why should we wonder at hearing that Mary, the only spotless child of Adam's seed, has a transcen dent influence with the God of grace. And if the Gentiles at Jerusalem sought Philip, because he was an Apostle, when they desired access to Jesus, and Philip spoke to Andrew, as still more closely in our Lord's con fidence, and then both came to Him, is it strange that the Mother should have power with the Son, distinct in kind from that of the purest angel and the most triumphant saint? If we have faith to admit the Incarnation itself, we must admit it in its fulness ; why then should we start at the gracious appoint ments which arise out of it, or are necessary to it, or are included in it ? Queen of Heaven. If the Creator comes on earth in the form of a servant and a creature, why may not His Mother, on the other hand, rise to be the Queen of heaven, and be clothed with the sun, and have the moon under her feet ? I am not proving these doctrines to you, my brethren ; the evidence of them lies in the declaration of the Church. The Church is the oracle of religious truth, and dispenses what the Apostles committed to her in every time and place. We must take her word, then, without proof, because she is sent to us from God to teach us how to please Him ; and that we do so is the test whether we be really Catholics or no. I am not proving, then, what you al ready receive, but I am showing you the beauty and the harmony, in one out of many instances, of the Church's teach ing ; which are so well adapted, as they are divinely intended, to recommend that teaching to the inquirer and to en dear it to her children. One word more, and I have done ; I THE GLORIES OF MARY. 433 have shown you how full of meaning are the truths themselves which the Church teaches concerning the Most Blessed Virgin, and now consider how full of meaning also has been the Church's dispensation of them. You will find, that, in this respect, as in Mary's prerogatives themselves, there is the same careful reference to the glory of Him who gave them to her. You know, when first He went out to preach, she kept apart from Him ; she interfered not with His' work ; and, even when He was gone up on high, yet she, a woman, went not out to preach or teach, she seated not herself in the Apostolic chair, she took no part in the priest's office ; she did but humbly seek her Son in the daily Mass of those, who, though her ministers in heaven, were her superiors in the Church on earth. Sharers of Glory. Nor, when she and they had left this lower scene, and she was a Queen upon her Son's right hand, not even then did she ask of Him to publish her name to the ends of the world, or to hold her up to the world's gaze, but she remained waiting for the time, when her own glory should be necessary for His. He indeed had been from the very first proclaimed by Holy Church, and enthroned in His temple, for He was God ; ill had it be seemed the living Oracle of Truth to have withholden from the faithful the very object of their adoration ; but it was otherwise with Mary. It became her, as a creature, a moth er, and a woman, to stand aside and make way for the Creator, to minister to her Son, and to win her way into the world's homage by sweet and gracious persuasion. So when His name was 28-C F Vol. 2 dishonored, then it was that she did Him service ; when Emmanuel was de nied, then the mother of God (as it were) came forward ; when heretics said that God was not incarnate, then was the time for her own honors. And then, when as much as this had been accomplished, she had done with strife ; she fought not for herself. No fierce controversy, no persecuted con fessors, no heresiarch, no anathema, were necessary for her gradual manifes tation ; as she had increased day by day in grace and merit at Nazareth, while the world knew not of her, so has she raised herself aloft silently, and has grown into her place in the Church by a tranquil influence and a natural pro cess. Like the Cedar. She was as some fair tree, stretching forth her fruitful branches and her fra grant leaves, and overshadowing the territory of the saints. And thus the antiphon speaks of her : " Let thy dwell ing be in Jacob, and thine inheritance in Israel, and strike thy roots in My elect." Again: "And so in Sion was I es tablished, and in the holy city I like wise rested, and in Jerusalem was my power. And I took root in an honor able people, and in the glorious com pany of the saints was I detained. I was exalted like a cedar in Lebanus, and as a cypress in Mount Sion ; I have stretched out my branches as the tere binth, and my branches are of honor and grace. Thus was she reared without hands, and gained a modest victory, and exerts a gentle sway, which she has not claimed. When dispute arose about her among her children, she hushed it; 434 THE GLORIES OF MARY. when objections were urged against her, she waived her claims and waited ; till now, in this very day, should God so will, she will win at length, her most radiant crown, and, without opposing voice, and amid the jubilation of the whole Church, she will be hailed as im maculate in her conception. Such art thou, Holy Mother, in the creed and in the worship of the Church, the defence of many truths, the grace and smiling light of every devotion. In thee, O Mary, is fulfilled, as we can bear it, an original purpose of the Most High. He once had meant to come on earth in heavenly glory, but we sinned; and then He could not safely visit us, except with a shrouded radiance and a be- dimmed Majesty ; for He was God ! So He came Himself in weakness, not in power ; and He sent thee, a creature, in His stead, with a creature's comeli ness and lustre, suited to our state. And now thy very face and form, dear Moth er, speak to us of the Eternal : not like earthly beauty, dangerous to look upon, but like the morning star, which is thy emblem, bright and musical, breathing purity, telling of heaven and infusing peace. O harbinger of day ! O hope of the pilgrim ! lead us still as thou hast led : in the dark night, across the bleak wil derness, guide us on to our Lord Jesus. Guide us home ! Maria, mater gratiae, Dulcis parens clementiae, Tu nos ab hoste protege Et mortis hora suscipe. P^ «*-«*g ~V-^ T^BroflB&sjgK&sjFa ii ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ ; ¦ ;'¦¦¦. •.'' SB "¦ ¦¦¦ ;¦¦¦¦. ¦ . ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ ggS&is m '~Wp:\: /.'-.'.' X ¦/*( - ; '¦'¦ '$ffik'' K ¦ :, 1 fi. .: r$%- *w*s*f<#i$wip i:""-%TO.:."i ' P$| '•-f>'V/" *.:.v v-i . -. • • {'#-.' •" *jt 1^ S^^w ¦¦'*.*- :? fe: l^9& ' ¦Jlg&KJr "Wi^\ K' ~*t%j* ""-'¦ Wm ii Bl^Hvf ff ^'Wk^sB l':W';. ¦ ; i.^^mSk^-\ £Afcw,.,^V :> ¦¦ ;'J WmM^"--"- i-'v - ; Wm^T^ "y. ¦i^ HP^ ¦ - w!Mm&^i**®i&l6§*.\;' I ^ . •" ',« WsMtmifc?****' '•¦'M' ''¦¦¦¦¦ '¦'¦' ML 19 Iv'? ' ' r^ &p|s. '¦ r '*^^ BKfcjr£; | f *S mfflNsWi ' ¦ '"•%£&£''¦%& "•' " ' " ^&&*£&y £p&&mk k "' -^ ^w '•'¦ ®*??&m ^.''-4* .1 '• K^^S '^Vy^ * ' ;; -^ «a^£r. f^-^ "¦ i^^^^pe iPHW ^^aiaMHUiftrf -h-Je^ l**%*lKBHHKSa ST. CECILIA Saint Cecilia. - ECILIA was the only child of wealthy and noble Roman parents. They were pagans ; some but, for reason — gener ally attributed to the influence of a Christian nurse — she her self was brought up a Christian. Though only two hundred years or less had passed since the Church had been founded, the true faith had made such progress that there was scarcely a household where there were not one or more converts, in spite of all the perse cutions to which the Church had been subjected. There was, however, a lull at the time of Cecilia's childhood ; and though it was true that the Christian creed was still forbidden by the Roman laws, and that at any moment a fresh and bloody persecution might break out, the faithful could practise their religion without much fear. Therefore, Cecilia might have grown up just like any other Roman maiden, had she not, of her own doing, separated herself from those with whom she lived. Though she had a comfortable home, kind parents and friends, and attentive servants, Cecilia felt quite alone in the world in which she lived. All around her were pagans, worshippers of idols, and there were none to whom she could talk about the mysteries of her faith, and learn about them. She was, how ever, so faithful to the grace of her Baptism, that God spoke to her soul, and taught her secrets about Himself which she could have learned from no one else on earth. But this only made her still more lonely; for the more she knew about God, the more she felt that she could have no real love for her pagan com panions, and that something came be tween even her and her parents. Then Our Lord spoke still more intimately to her heart, and breathed into it such a strong love for Him that she was no longer lonely, and did not feel the want of any other love; for she knew that she could never give her affection to any earthly creature. She had listened to a Voice which will take no denial, and which has gone on speaking to chosen souls for more than nineteen centuries. So plainly did it speak to Cecilia, that, when she was only a child, she made a solemn vow of virginity, and promised Our Blessed Lord that she would be His spouse, and His alone all the days of her life. It is not quite certain at precisely what time Cecilia lived and suffered martyrdom ; but it is generally supposed to have been during the reign of Alex ander Severus, who was made Emperor at the end of the third century. A fierce persecution broke out against 435 436 SAINT CECILIA. the Christians while Cecilia was still quite young ; for God never allowed His people to live in security for very long together. Nevertheless, this persecution took the Christians by surprise ; for Alex ander Severus was not only a kind-heart ed man, but had almost an affection for the Christians. He owed this to the influ ence of his mother, Mammaea ; who, as has been generally supposed, was a con vert in secret to the true faith. Be this as it may, she had a great ad miration for the doctrines of Christian ity, and brought up her son to have the same. But, alas! his admiration led him no further than to place an image of Our Lord among his idols, and say his prayers to Him in turn with his false gods. Still he was always kind and just wherever the Christians were concerned. Hatred of the Governor. Unfortunately, however, the Emperor left Rome for a long absence, and ap pointed a man named Turcius Almach- ius to be Governor in his stead. This man detested all Christians ; and, as soon as Severus was at a safe distance, he began to persecute them cruelly. It is impossible to say whether he was driven to do this by a covetous desire to seize their possessions, or whether it was the effect of blind hatred, such as the devil persuades men in all ages to have for Our Lord and His Church. The persecution raged ; and many whom Cecilia knew suffered for their faith. Their death kindled in her heart a great longing to shed her blood also for her Spouse and Lord. Being the child of rich and powerful parents, it did not seem likely that she would be called on to lay down her life for her faith ; but the desire of her heart was known to Our Lord, and He granted it — not, however, for a while ; for she had to suffer many things for His sake. Urban I. was Pope at that time ; and against him, as Chief Pastor of the Church, the hatred of Almachius was first turned. He sentenced the holy Pontiff to be put to death as soon as he could be captured, and offered a high reward to any one who would find and bring the Pope before him. However, Urban — not because he feared martyr dom, but because he knew his life was necessary to his flock — hid himself in the Catacombs. Tombs Underground. These were vast underground places made up of winding passages, about which no one who was not accustomed to them could find his way. There the Christians lived in times of persecution ; there they worshipped ; and there, when they died, they were buried. Those who had died martyrs had a little vessel filled with their blood buried with them ; by which men knew, and know to this day, when their bodies are fonnd, that they are the relics of those who died for the faith. In spaces rather larger than the pass ages, and more difficult to reach, altars were set up over the tombs of the mar tyrs, where the Holy Sacrifice was of fered in safety. On the walls of these chapels were painted figures and sym bols, which, though they had no mean ing for the pagans who saw them, meant a great deal to Christian worshippers, and set the great doctrines of the Church before them. Cecilia knew the Catacombs ; and, when she could, heard Mass in their sa- SAINT CECILIA. 437 cred vaults. She was, as will be seen further on in her story, well known to the faithful and to the holy Pontiff, St. Urban, for her holiness and almsdeeds. But while they lived hiding in the heart of the earth, she dwelt in her father's house in safety and honor. Neverthe less, the time had come for her to prove the reality of her love for her Spouse and Lord. She had grown to womanhood, and was wondrously fair to look on ; and her father and mother decided that it was time she were suitably married. They had agreed to her calling herself a Chris tian, and had never tried to make her give up her religion ; probably looking on it as a matter of no importance. It never entered into their hearts to ima gine what a great gulf it was that sepa rated them from their child, and now for the first time they discovered it. Her Sacred Vow. As a matter of course, her parents chose a young pagan as her husband ; and, having chosen him, they told their daughter to prepare to marry him. Va lerian was, for a pagan, a good young man, and really devoted to Cecilia ; but she knew that she could not be the wife of him or of any other man, having long ago vowed her virginity to God, and promised Our Lord that she would have no spouse but Him. She now told her parents about her vow ; but they said she was talking non sense, and paid no attention whatever to her request to be allowed to keep it. The marriage preparations went on just as if she had not spoken. Cecilia felt .very helpless. She knew that she had no power to resist her pa rents' will, and that, humanly speaking, it would be impossible for her to keep her vow of virginity. But, helpless as she was of herself, she hoped all things from the power of God; and, throwing herself on her knees, she besought her Divine Spouse to keep her faithful to Him. " Preserve me undefiled in body and soul," she cried. "In Thee, O Lord, have I put my trust ; let me never be put to confusion." For days did she pray and perform heroic penances. She scourged herself and fasted ; and, in fact, did all in her power to storm heaven. Her faith never wavered. Had she not given herself to Our Lord ? And did it not rest with Him to preserve what was His own ? The Vow Accepted. For some time her Divine Spouse tried her faith and love, and sent no an swer to her prayer ; but one day He re vealed Himself to her soul, and told her to fear nothing, as He had accepted her vow and would enable her to keep it, if only she were brave and willing to suf fer for his sake. Then He opened her eyes and showed her His angel whom He had set by her side to guard her from all injury. Thenceforward she feared nothing. At last the day of the wedding ar rived ; and Cecilia, full of confidence in the protection of her Divine Spouse, allowed her handmaidens to robe her in her marriage garments. None but she knew that, under the gold and silver and beautiful brocades, which excited the admiration of all beholders, she wore a shirt of rough haircloth, armed with iron points, which tore her flesh every movement she made. Clad in this strange wedding-garment, 438 SAINT CECILIA. she graciously took part in the festivities given in her honor ; and all the while she lifted up her heart to God, implor ing His aid and reminding Him of His promises. In this way she remained calm, and kept her peace of mind throughout the pagan ceremonies which, according to the Roman law, made her the wife of Valerian. When all was over, the young man joyfully took Cecilia to his own home. He was, it is true, a pagan, but he was upright and true, and rejoiced with all his heart that such a pure and holy maiden had been given him as his wife ; and no doubt he meant to prove his love for her in every way possible to him. A Favored Servant. But God had laid His hand on him, and chosen him also to be one of His favored servants. To Valerian as well as to Cecilia had He said those words, so mighty in their strength, " Follow Me ! " and Valerian was to prove that he was Our Lord's disciple by sacrificing all that was most dear to him, even be fore he was called on to shed his blood for his Master. When the two were left alone together, Cecilia told her husband that she had given herself entirely to Our Lord to be His spouse, and that she never would or could be any man's wife. Valerian, who knew of no life beyond this, laughed her idea to scorn. But when she went on, and, with a look of inspiration, told him that God had placed an angel by her side to protect her, and kill any one who tried to make her break her vow of virginity, he was startled, and turned away full of trouble, for he loved Cecilia dearly. He thought deeply for some minutes, and then he said : " Let me at least see this angel. If he is indeed a being such as thou tellest me, I fain must grant thy request ; but if he be a man and no spirit, I will slay both thee and him." " It is not given to such as thou to see these things," she replied. " Thou must first have thy sins taken away, and then my God will show His angel to thee." " But how,'' cried Valerian impetuously, ' ' how can I have my sins taken away ? " The Promised Gift. Cecilia then told him that there was a holy and aged man to whom she would send him, who would first tell him all that he had to do, and would then wash away his sins. She intended to send him to Pope Urban, who was hiding in the Catacombs ; for she had a holy confidence that if he did but speak with the saintly Pontiff he would see the errors of paganism and be converted. Valerian was sincere in his desire to obtain the great gift promised to him by Cecilia, and undertook to do exactly as she bade him. By her direction he went out at once into the dark night, and walked three miles along the Appian Way, between the great tombs and monuments which bordered it. He had no fear of either the spirits of the dead or the robbers and assassins who might be lurking concealed. God was with him, though he knew it not. When he reached the third milestone he found, as Cecilia had told him he would, some poor people asking alms. " These I have always cared for;" she had said, "and they also know my secret. When thou shalt have given them my blessing and told them that I have sent thee to them that they may take thee to the holy old man Urban, SAINT CECILIA. 439 because thou bearest him a secret message from me, they will lead thee to him." When Valerian had done as his wife had bidden, and had repeated certain pass-words which she had confided to him, he was led down through a hole in the ground, and along the twisting passages, until he found himself in the presence of the Pontiff. The Secret Hiding-place. In all this Cecilia had acted under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, and had no fear that by confiding the secret of Urban's hiding-place to one who was as yet a wanderer from the true fold she might be the cause of the Pope's being seized and put to death. She followed a safe guide, and Urban had nothing to fear from Valerian. He was well aware that he could have obtained favor with Almachius and earned a rich reward by betraying the holy Pontiff, but no thought of doing so passed his mind. Grace was already at work in his heart, and he had but the one thought, how to find out the truth about the wonderful things told him by Cecilia, and how most quickly to have his sins washed away. When he related to St. Urban all that had taken place between him and his wife since the marriage ceremony, and said that he had come all the way from Rome to find out how he could have his sins washed away, the old Pontiff, instead of answering his visitor's questions, fell on his knees and prayed for him. "O Lord Jesus Christ," he said, "Good Shepherd, the spouse whom Cecilia received as a fierce lion she has sent to Thee as a gentle lamb ; for had he not believed her he would not have come hither. Open, O Lord, the door of his heart to hear Thy words, that confessing Thee to be his Creator and Lord, he may renounce the devil and his idols." When Urban had thus prayed for Valerian's conversion there appeared, in answer to his prayer, a venerable man, clad in white and glistening garments, and holding in his hand a tablet where on were written words in letters of gold. At the sight of this holy apparition Valerian was so struck with fear that he fell to the ground as though he were dead. But the aged man raised him, and told him that if he wished to see the angel of whom Cecilia had spoken, he must read what was written on the tablet. Then Valerian, in obedience to his com mand, looked up and read these words : " One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above us all, and in us all." A Sudden Conversion. 1 ' Believest thou this ?' ' asked the aged man. Valerian had opened his heart to grace, and his converson was as sudden as that of the Queen of Ethiopia's officer, who was baptized by St. Philip the deacon. "Yea, I believe," he cried in a loud voice. " There is nothing more truly to be believed under heaven." As he made this act of faith the old man with the tablet vanished from his sight, and he remained alone with Pope Urban. Then the Pontiff baptized him, and having instructed him in the prin ciple truths of the faith, sent him back in his white baptismal robe to Cecilia. Far away in her chamber Cecilia had been praying for her husband ; and when Valerian re-entered the room 440 SAINT CECILIA. where he had left her he found her still rapt in prayer, and — his eyes being opened by the waters of baptism — he beheld her guardian angel standing radiant by her side, while the chamber was filled with the heavenly fragrance of two crowns of roses and lilies which he held. Placing the wedded spouses before him, the angel laid a crown on the head of each, and, thus uniting them, told them that henceforward they were to be the spouses of Christ alone. Asks for His Brother. "And thou, Valerian," he added, turning to the young man, "because thou hast agreed to the counsel of chastity, Christ the Son of God hath sent me to thee, that thou mayest ask any favor thou wilt, and it will be given thee." When Valerian listened to this blessed promise, he knelt at the angel's feet and said: "Nothing in this life has been dearer to me than my only brother. For this do I ask, that He who delivered me from the service of idols will in like manner deliver him, and make us one before Him, and both perfect in the confession of His holy Name." There is, as Our Lord tells us, joy in heaven over one sinner that doeth pen ance ; and when he heard Valerian's request, the countenance of Cecilia's holy Guardian shone with joy. " Thou hath asked," he said, "that which Jesus Christ desires to give even more than thou desirest to have it. Even as He hath gained thee by his servant Cecilia, so by thy means will he gain thy brother also. " And he added the news so joyful to these spouses of Christ, that he and his brother, as well as Cecilia, would glorify God in their deaths and would receive the crown of martyrdom. In course of time, Tiburtius, the brother, for whose conversion Valerian had prayed, entered the room to greet his brother's wife, and salute her, as was the custom, by kissing her head. "Whence cometh this fragrance of flowers ?" he asked, for though his eyes were closed to the sight of the heavenly crowns with which the brows of his brother and sister were encircled, God allowed him to smell their perfume as a means of leading him to seek grace. In answer Valerian narrated all the wonderful events of that night, and held out the hope that his eyes also would be opened as soon as his sins had been washed away, and offered to take him to Urban to be instructed in the true faith. Critical Situation. " What !" cried Tiburtius in alarm ; ' ' meanest thou that Urban whom the Christians call their chief Pontiff? Knowest thou not that an edict has gone forth that he is to be slain when found ? for he is hiding men know not where. If we are found with him we too shall be slain." "In truth," replied Cecilia, "we might fear death if this life were all ; but there is another life after this which will never end ; and if we give up our lives for the sake of Jesus Christ here, we shall be happy with Him forever in another life." " But," he replied doubt- ingly, " has anyone come back who has seen these things? Can any witness testify that they are true ?" Cecilia then went on to tell him how Our Blessed Lord had come and died to SAINT CECILIA. 441 save sinners, and about the hell which awaited those who did not try to save their souls ; and how he had risen from the dead and gone up to heaven to prove that there was another life. Grace now won the victory in Tiburtius's soul, and he threw himself on the ground in an agony of tears. " Have pity on me, dearest brother," he cried to Valerian. "Take me at once to the man of God, that my soul may be cleansed, so that I may be able to have part in the life to come." So then Valerian took his dearly-loved brother to the Catacombs, and for seven days Tiburtius dwelt there, learning the truths of Christianity from Urban, who then baptized him, and sent him back to fight the good fight for his faith with Valerian and Cecilia. Works of Charity. The two brothers were of noble birth; but now that the waters of Baptism had flowed over their souls they forgot all about what had once been their proudest boast, and devoted themselves to works which at one time they would have thought degrading. They visited and administered to the poor and sick, and shared their money with them; and, like holy Tobias of old, they buried the dead with their own hands. Now, Almachius hated all Christians, but he was a coward, and he preferred to torture and kill the poor and un known who had no powerful friends to help them. Valerian and Tiburtius were not only rich and noble, but their family stood high in the Emperor's favor, and the tyrant feared lest their friends might complain to Severus and get him into trouble. But another passion raged in the heart of Almachius as well as cruelty and hatred, and this was avarice. If, without doing harm to himself, he could put these two brothers to death, he would be able to seize their wealth. So he set to work craftily, and, send ing privately for the two young men, he warned them to be more careful of what they were about. He knew full well that they were Christians, but hitherto they had had no opportunity of confessing their faith, so he artfully tried to persuade them by kind words to at least keep their religion secret. Confession of Christ. Their only response to his crafty kindness was a valiant profession be fore the whole court of their faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ. Almachius knew he should be held up to contempt if he suffered them to speak thus un hindered, so he ordered the two valiant young men to be scourged. But this did not silence them, for while the cruel torture was going on they preached to those present, and told them about Our Lord and what He taught. Nothing that the Governor could say silenced them. Now there sat by the side of Alma chius an officer named Tarquinius, and he took advantage of the rage of his superior to compass the death of the two young men, for he for his part stood in no fear of the Emperor's anger. " Behold," he said to Almachius, "the young men give thee the opportunity thou seekest. Command at once that they be put to death. If thou lettest them go they will give all they have to the poor, and thou wilt find nothing.' ' This decided the tyrant, and he cried 442 SAINT CECILIA. out : " Cease this fooling ! Offer sacri fice to the gods, and you shall do as you will." " Nay," they replied, "we will offer sacrifice to the one true God, but not to idols." This was enough, and in a rage Almachius commanded that the brothers should be taken to a statue of Jupiter, at a place called Pagus, and that if they refused to offer incense to the false god they should be beheaded. Glad to Lose Life. They were delivered over to the charge of one Maximus, who was directed to see that the Governor's orders were carried out. But this soldier had listened to the glorious words they had uttered while they were being scourged, and had seen the joy with which they suffered their torments. Even as of old Stephen's prayer and example converted Saul, so now in like manner did the words and actions of Valerian and Tiburtius convert Maxi mus. While he was leading them away to death grace was knocking at his heart. His soul was full of pity for them ; for he did not know why it was that they welcomed death with such triumphant joy, and he did his best to persuade them to save their lives by yielding to the Governor's wishes. " O fair youths, O loving brothers," said he, "why will you thus condemn yourselves to such an evil death? You act as though a banquet awaited you, instead of a cruel end." "We are glad to lose this life," replied Tiburtius, "because the life to which we go is everlasting." "What?" asked Maximus. "Is there then an other life?" " Yea," answered the other. " Even as our body is clothed with garments, so is our soul clothed with the body, and taken to the joys of everlasting life." "I, too," said the soldier," could despise this life, were I sure about the other glorious life of which you speak." "If thou dost really believe that the body is but as a vesture to the soul, and wilt promise to believe what is shown thee, the Lord will open thine eyes to see our souls enter into His glory when our bodies have been put to death. Wilt thou believe ? " Swift Martyrdom. " May I be consumed by thunder bolts," replied Maximus, "if I do not henceforth believe in the one true God, and the life after this ! " "We will in struct thee," said Valerian, "if thou wilt obtain the time. Persuade those who will put us to death to delay for one day, and take us to thy house, and we will instruct thee." Maximus ob tained the required delay ; and, having been taught about the true faith, he and his household, and even the execution ers, believed. And, in the night, Ce celia came, accompanied by several priests, who baptised all the converts. Next morning Maximus and the ex ecutioners, who dared not disobey the Governor, led Valerian and Tiburtius four miles out of the city, to the Tem ple of Jupiter. There they were offered incense to burn in honor of the false god, and when they refused they knelt down and their heads were cut off, the executioners being encouraged by the martyrs to do their work. At the moment that they were struck dead, Maximus saw their souls issue from their bodies like — as he said — vir gins from their bridal, and he saw the SAINT CECILIA. 443 angels receive them in their arms and hear them to heaven on their wings. Maximus went about telling every one what he had seen, shedding tears of joy as he spoke. When this came to the ears of Turcius Almachius he was very wrath, and commanded that the soldier should be scourged to death with leaden thongs. Thus he too went to glory, and Ce cilia placed the three martyrs in a new tomb. Now she alone was left to fight the good fight. Old Roman Law. It was the law of Rome that the prop erty of Christians who were put to death for their religion should be taken from their relatives and given to the State. As the gaining possession of Valerian's wealth had been the chief reason why Almachius had been so anxious to have him beheaded, he went off at once, full of greedy expectation, to Cecilia, and commanded her to hand over to him all the riches which had belonged to her husband. " Be not anxious," she replied. "His money is quite safe and quite beyond your reach." "But give it to me," he persisted. "Nay," she said ; " that is not possible. I have laid up in heaven all the treasures possessed by Valerian and Tiburtius." These words filled Almachius's avaricious heart with deep anxiety, and with real anger he com manded her to cease fooling and tell him plainly what she had done with the money. Being thus bidden, she told him she had given it to the poor, and that by so doing she had given it to her Lord Jesus Christ, who would have it in safe keep ing and restore it in His own way. Almachius raved and cursed, but it was not of the least good : the money was gone beyond recovery. He had no choice but to leave the presence of Ce cilia, and he went to his home to brood and think in what manner he could best revenge himself on one who had, as he chose to call it, so grossly cheated him out of what was his due. The Cautious Emperor. But her family was so noble, and in such favor with the Emperor, that he knew that he must act with caution. He had not to wait long for an excuse to get rid of her. She made the most open profession of her religion, visited and ministered to the Christians who were in prison, and found honorable burial for those who gave up their lives for their faith. Hearing this, Almach ius told himself with joy that it would not be just, and would indeed bring dis honor to his name and cause discon tent, if he let her go unpunished while he commanded that Christians of a poor er sort should be put to death for refus ing to sacrifice to the gods. Nevertheless he thought it more pru dent to judge and condemn her with some privacy, and he therefore sent some of his confidential officers to her house to bid her offer incense to the idols, and to threaten her with death if she refused. When the messengers arrived at her house and gave Cecilia the choice be tween death and betraying her Spouse by committing the sin of idolatry, she felt so happy that she could not hide her joy. This struck the officers as most strange ; and the thought that this gen tle, beautiful maiden should wish to 444 SAINT CECILIA. give up her life for what they considered a mere fancy made them so sad that they did all in their power to persuade her to save her life by throwing just one little grain of incense on the fire in honor of the gods. They did not un derstand how she could refuse to do such a little thing, |even if she did consider it wrong. Cecilia thanked them courteously for their compassion. " But, do not think. kind friends," she said, "that I shall lose by dying for my Lord. No ! I shall gain everything. In exchange for the life of this poor body and all its ills I shall gain eternal life and never-end ing happiness. Torments and death will soon be over ; but the joys of heav en, the home of my Divine Spouse and Lord, will never pass away." The True God. Struck by her words, the officers look ed at one another questioningly ; and Cecilia, seeing they were in doubt, and knowing what miracles of grace Our Lord can perform, cried out : " Do you believe in the Lord Jesus, about whom I have been speaking ?' ' Again they looked at each other, as if seeking advice, and then one of them, speaking for the others, said : "We be lieve that the God whom thou worship- pest must be the true God." Cecilia had only one care now, and that was to complete the work of these men's conversion ; and she sent them to Turcius Almachius to dissemble, and crave for a short delay before sentence of death should be passed on her. This he granted without difficulty, for he did not know the reason why she asked for it. When the messengers returned to Cecilia's house they found Pope Urban there ; for when he had heard from her that the salvation of these men's souls was at stake, he had left his hiding- place without any thought for his own safety. He instructed them and all their friends whom they brought to him, to the number of about four hun dred, all of whom he baptized. Contempt for Idols. But the news of these conversions reached the ears of Almachius, and, angry at being thus, as he thought, duped, he sent for Cecilia to appear be fore him at once. She knew that the hour of the victory was at hand, and feared neither the torture nor death which awaited her, and was unabashed by the brutal people before whom she was judged. ' ' What is thy name ?' ' was Almachius" first question. " Christian is my name," she replied, "though I am known by the name of Cecilia. " " What art thou ?' ' " I am the daughter of noble parents.'' " Cease !" he cried, " I ask not of thy family, but of thee. What gods dost thou serve ?" " I serve the one true God," she re plied, and Jesus Christ my only Spouse. "Cease !" he cried again ; "thou wert the spouse of Valerian, and of no other. Sacrifice to the gods, and have done with thy folly." Cecilia answered boldly, and with the eloquence given her by God. She spoke of her hatred and contempt for the idols which the Governor called on her to worship, and with a countenance radiant with joy declared her faith in Jesus Christ her Lord. Almachius, unable to silence her, swore that she should die ; but he still SAINT CECILIA. 445 feared the anger of the Emperor, and durst not put her to death publicly, but devised a plan by which she could be martyred in a secret way in her own house. Thither he therefore sent her back. The house where she lived was close to the river Tiber, on the spot where the church dedicated to her now stands, and he gave orders to^those who accompanied her to shut her up in her own bath-room, the furnace and pipes of which were, by his directions, heated seven times. They shut her in and barred the door, and there the tyrant's servants left her to die a slow and cruel death. A Famous Church. At least, so they thought, for assuredly no one could breathe or live long in that scorching air. Any one who goes now to Rome, and visits the church built over St. Cecilia's house, can see the bath-chamber in which she was exposed to death, and can touch the very pipes through which the fiery air rushed to kill her. But one stronger than Almachius was fighting on Cecilia's side, and He, though He intended to give His spouse the crown of martyrdom which He had promised her, willed to show His power and defeat the Governor's wicked wiles. For a whole day and night did Cecilia remain in that stifling chamber; but she did not feel the heat, for God sent a cool air from heaven which kept off the fiery blast. When after those long hours her tor mentors opened the door and expected to drag out her body shrivelled up with the heat, they found her unharmed and rapt in prayer. The news of this marvel reached Almachius. He trembled with fear, it is true, but he was as firmly resolved as ever to fight against God, and instead of believing and submitting to the Divine power which had been manifest ed to him, sent his executioners to strike off the holy virgin's head. But even now he could not have his way, for, much as Cecilia longed for heaven, she still had work to do for God on earth ; and, knowing this, she asked Him to leave her here for yet three days. The Strength of Prayer. The Saint's prayers were stronger than the arm of the executioner. As soon as he received the commands of Almachius he hastened to Cecilia's house to do his master's bidding. He was a brutal man, and, breaking into the bath- chamber where Cecilia still lay in joyful ecstasy, he threw her on the marble floor and tried to cut off her head. Three times did he strike with all his strength, but though he gashed her neck most cruelly, he could not sever her head. The Roman law forbade any exe cutioner to strike more than three times ; so the man threw down his sword and fled, with rage and terror in his heart, for he knew that some power against which he could not fight had held his arm. Cecilia had asked of God three days more of life, and during that time she lay on the marble floor, with her head half severed, giving her blood drop by drop for Our Lord. But she remained quite conscious and calm in spite of the agony she must have been suffering. All the Christians of the city, whether living in their own homes or hiding in the Catacombs, flocked to the side of the dying martyr, and Almachius — why, he 446 SAINT CECILIA. could not say — allowed them to go and come unhindered. While the Saint's soul hovered, as it were, between earth and heaven, she had words for all, young and old, rich and poor ; and she was so near to God that she could tell them many things they knew not of. The three days were nearly over ; but she waited for St. Urban. He had gone on a distant journey in his care for his flock, and knew nothing of what had taken place in Rome ; and when at length he reached Cecilia's side, her life was ebbing fast, " Holy Father," she said with almost her last breath, " I asked God to grant me three days of life, so that I might see thee, and place my treasure in thy hands. To thee do I leave all the poor, whom I have fed ; to thee do I leave this house and all that I possess. When my soul has left this mortal body do thou make a church on the spot where I now lie." Cecilia's work was done, and the voice of her Spouse — unheard by any except herself — bade her make ready to come to the banquet of the Lamb. She then calmly disposed herself as if for sleep, and with her face turned down, her knees slightly raised, and her hands joined, with three fingers of the right extended, which was a sign by which in those days faith in the Most Holy Trinity was ex pressed, she obeyed her Divine Spouse's last summons, and breathed forth her soul. Her friends would not disturb her body, or alter the position which she had thus chosen for herself. They therefore laid her as she was in a coffin of cypress wood, with cloths at her feet dipped in her blood, as a symbol of her martyr dom ; and thus they bore her away and placed her in the Catacomb of St. Callixtus, by the side of Valerian, Tiburtius, and Maximus. WHOSOEVER BELIEVETH IN ME SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE. The Virtue of Humility. BY RICHARD E. CLARKE, S. J. 7(( OST import ant to the welfare of our souls is humility,but it is absolute ly necessary order to obtain >'i£\$\ grace from Almighty '/$$ God. He resists the \j proud, and gives grace to the humble. Pride is an inseparable bar to the entrance of grace into the soul, and as we can do nothing good in the sight of God without the assistance of His grace, we must have at least some degree of humility before we can do anything pleasing to Him. In proportion to our humility will be the grace given us, and the super natural virtue to which we shall attain. The first thing I must do if I wish to please God more is to humble myself more. Humility is not only necessary to the obtaining of grace, but without it we are the enemies of God. He resists the proud : that is, they have God fighting against them, and regarding them as His enemies. How awful a thing to have God for our adversary. It was this that rendered the devils forever accursed. It was the humility of their subjection that in one moment confirmed the holy Angels in the love of God, in perfect happiness to all eternity. If I wish God to fight for me, not against me, the first condition is humility. Humility is a necessary condition of entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven. " Unless you become as little children," says our Divine Lord, " you cannot en ter into the Kingdom of God." He loves the humble, and no one who has in his heart the spirit of humility need have any fear of death and judgment. O my God, am I really humble? Is there not still in me, alas ! a spirit of pride hateful to Thee ? Drive out from me all pride, and fill me with true hu mility, that I may be fit for Thee and fit for heaven. The Obligation of Humility. Every Christian as such is under an obligation to follow in the sacred foot steps of Jesus Christ, and to make His Life the model of His own. In the life of the Son of God on earth, the most wonderful feature is its humility. That the omnipotent God should so humble Himself as to take the form of the low est of the rational creatures that He has made is an almost incredible marvel. The condescension, the lowering of Himself that is involved in it, altogether passes our power of comprehension. He could not have stooped so low unless He had been God. Thus His humility be comes the characteristic feature of the Incarnatiou, and in proportion as we 447 448 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. lower ourselves we imitate Jesus upon earth. Our Lord is not satisfied with teach ing us by His example. He also gives us a positive command, " Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart." Out of all the virtues He came to teach us, He selects His humility as that to the practice of which He binds us, by which we are to become like to Him. How indifferent, how disobedient I have shown myself to our Lord's command! Can I say that I have learnt the lesson of meekness and humbleness of heart ? We are also bound to practise humil ity as children of the Catholic Church. Humility and submission is the very essence of her teaching. Subjection to God, subjection to all lawful authority, subjection of will and intellect to the dogmas of Faith ! He who is not con tent with subjection cannot be a really good Catholic, and no one can love subjection without humility. Examine your own heart, whether you rejoice in being subject for Christ's sake. The Foundation of Humility. No one can review his past life with out finding therein motives enough and to spare for humbling himself before Almighty God. "We have sinned, we have committed iniquity, we have done wickedly, we have revolted ; to us be- longeth shame and confusion of face " (Dan. ix. 5,7-) If ever we are inclined to think much of ourselves, we have only to look back on our past years ; on the deliberate sins against charity, against truthfulness, against obedience, against purity ; on the pride, the selfish ness, the self-will, the neglect of God5 that have stained our lives. Besides the actual sins, how many in fidelities to grace ! God has been so lib eral with his graces, and I have been so negligent in availing myself of them. How many I might have earned if I had been faithful and had not wilfully turned aside from what God asked of me, to follow my own will and pleasure. What cause for humiliation of myself ! If others who have perhaps lived and died in sin had had my graces, would they not have made a far better use of them than I have? To me, O God, shame and confusion of face ! I must throw myself on Thy mercy and humbly beg forgiveness. When, moreover, I look at what I now am, 1 find fresh cause for humbling my self. I might have been a saint if I had been more faithful, and now I am the vilest of sinners. My soul in the sight of God is disfigured by sin, as a body is by the ulcers and sores that spoil its natural beauty and comeliness. I abound with faults innumerable ; I am unwor thy to appear in the presence of God. "O hide Thy face from my sins, blot out all my iniquities !" The Deeper Foundations of Humility. The consciousness of past sin will not of itself give us the perfection of hu mility. It necessarily fixes the eye of the soul upon ourselves and our own do ings, whereas perfect humility means the annihilation of self. We have a deeper and more solid foundation for this vir tue in our own nothingness, and the ab sence of any sort of good save that which God has given us. Every gift of nature is simply a free gift from Him. All that is from ourselves is the marring and injuring of what we have received ; the misuse of talents, money, position, influence. What folly, then, to pride THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 449 ourselves on what belongs to God. We are still mere nothing, and less than nothing as regards supernatural gifts. Our natural gifts are put into our hands, they remain with us, and are in some sense ours ; but a supernatural gift requires a fresh giving immediately from the hand of God each time that it is given us. We cannot begin any super natural work without His preventing grace. We cannot move a step in it without fresh grace to carry it on ; we cannot bring it to a successful issue without the grace necessary to complete it. Do I realize as I ought this nothing ness of my own, and the absolute and continual dependence upon God for each thought or act pleasing to Him ? If this is so, how can I be anything but humble ? To pride myself on what God does in me would be ridiculous ; to pride myself on what I can do of myself would be to pride myself on all that mars and spoils the work of God. " What hast thou that thou hast not received?" asks St. Paul. Yes, O Lord, I have only one thing that I have not received, and that is my vileness, misery, sin. Can I boast of these? What Humility is not. We are inclined sometimes to aim at a false humility, and so to be hindered in our attainment of true humility. We must be on our guard against errors in this. Humility does not consist in shutting our eyes to the talents, ability, graces, and accomplishments that we possess. To do so is to refuse to acknowledge the good gifts that God has given us. If we have skill in music, in conversa tion, in painting, in languages, it is no humility to deny the fact. We ought 29-C F Vol. 2 to thank God for His goodness in be stowing upon us this talent. What is contrary to humility is to take the credit to ourselves, and to plume our selves on what we have received from God. Humility does not consist in self-de preciation and in running ourselves down before others. This is often a cloak for pride. Sometimes its object is to obtain from others the praise we deny to ourselves ; sometimes it is a marked expression of discontent. The continual song: "What a poor worm am I ! " is very much opposed to the spirit of the Catholic Church, and to the cheerfulness that every Christian ought to show in his words. Nor does humility consist in, or even admit of discouragement. If we are discouraged, it generally means that we think more about our own success than about the glory of God. It means that we are not perfectly resigned ; it means that our pride is wounded and our self-will thwarted, or that we have worldly motives in what we do, and seek honor from men and not from God. True humility is willing to fail in its projects if God so wills it. Ex amine yourself on these particulars, and see whether yours is true or false hu mility. What Humility is. Humility is a realization of our own nothingness before Almighty God. It is defined by St. Bernard as the virtue by which a man becomes vile in his own eyes through a thorough knowledge of himself; and by St. Thomas, as a vir tue by which a man, considering his own defects, keeps himself in the low est place according to his degree. Think over these definitions, and examine 450 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. yourself whether you are humble as judged by them. But it is not enough to be conscious of our own vileness, or to esteem our selves as nothing. We must acquiesce in, and be satisfied with our own noth ingness. Humility is not perfect until self is so obliterated that we are willing to be esteemed according to our deserts. When we can honestly say that what we look to in all our thoughts, words, and actions is not our own advantage and interest, but simply the honor of God, quite independently of what will fur ther our own profit, then we may begin to thank God that we are in the way of humility. Aids to Humility. If this is really the case, we shall not only esteem ourselves as vile, but we shall desire to be created accordingly. We shall not shrink from being hum bled in the eyes of men, but shall court humiliation, as it will be a satisfaction to us to be treated as we deserve. This is hard for human nature, but it is pos sible for all with the grace of God. It will not come at once, but we may hope to reach it some day. Have I attained it ? Do I desire it ? Do I even accept humiliations, or do I chafe under them and resent them ! In order to foster in ourselves a spirit of humility, we must not only look back, but look forward. When we ap pear before our Lord to be judged, what reason we shall have for shame and for dismay ! How can I who am so full of sin venture to face Him who sees through every disguise, and recognizes the true nature of every action ? How can I meet Him who has witnessed deeds of evil hidden from the eyes of men, and wicked and uncharitable thoughts indulged in secret ? When I think of that day I must needs be hum ble. Nothing will then be such a cause of shame to me as my pride. Nothing will so turn away the face of my Judge from me in anger. If God abhors the proud, how can I look forward to that day without trembling? St. Teresa said that when she had the privilege of seeing our Blessed Lord in a vision, the prevailing thought in her mind was, what a terrible thing it would be if He were to be angry with her. He will be angry with me then unless I learn more humility. O my God, make me humble at any cost ! What will be the punishment of pride ? The fire of Hell, which was pre pared for the devil and his angels sim ply and solely because of their pride. None will endure such misery as the proud ; not the gluttonous, or the im pure, or the covetous, except so far as their other vices fostered pride in them. O my God, if nothing else will make me humble, grant that the thought of the lowest Hell, reserved for the proud, may conquer in me that hateful vice of pride. The Attainment of Humility. Humility does not spring up in our souls of its own accord. On the con trary, every child of Adam has a deep root of pride within his soul. It is only by a long and painful process that the generality of mankind can attain to hu mility. We cannot expect to become humble unless we fulfil the necessary conditions. We must make many acts of humility before we can attain any proficiency in THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 451 the virtue, and these must consist not merely in protesting to Almighty God that we are vile and worthless in His sight, and in humbling ourselves before Him by reason of our many sins, but in acts of humility practised towards oth ers, by being very gentle towards those who provoke us, by bearing contradic tions with patience, by accepting disap pointments with patience and rebuffs without complaint. All this is a grad ual process, and we must not expect pro ficiency in humility until we have prac tised long these means of attaining it. We must pray for humility No gift of God can be won without prayer, and humility least of all, because it is so opposed to the natural bent of our na ture, and can never be had without a special grace from God. Prayer, more over, is an acknowledgment of our de pendence on God, and humility consists in nothing else than a recognition of this dependence and an acquiescence in it. Pray then for humility. Humility in Conversation. It is not much use praying for humil ity unless we also pray for the means that are to implant it in our souls. We must ask God from our hearts not to spare us if He sees that we shall not become humble without suffering. We must leave ourselves in His hands, saying only : " O my God, make me humble at any cost ! ' ' Our Lord tells us that by our words we shall be justified and by our words we shall be condemned, and from our words can be clearly seen whether we are humble or proud. The proud man always wants to take the lead in the conversation, and to lay down the law for the benefit of the rest. The humble man is content to be in the background. The proud man is vexed if he is not listened to ; the humble man is ready to accept such disregard with peaceful resignation, as a humiliation which he welcomes from the hand of God. Do I on these points exhibit marks of pride or of humility? There is, moreover, in the conversation of the proud an under-current of self- praise. They talk chiefly about them selves and what they have said and done, and in a tone of boastfulness more or less thinly veiled. The humble seem to forget themselves ; they consider what is interesting to those to whom they talk, and they do this because for God's sake they seek to please others rather than themselves. Try and cultivate this humility in conversation. It will make you loved by God and by men. Humility and Criticism. We perceive the contrast between hu mility and pride most clearly when some rebuff is given. See the meekness of the one and the indignation of the other ; the patience of the one, and the eager ness of the other to assert himself and prove himself in the right. In this re spect we shall do well to contemplate the perfect humility of the Holy Mother of God at the marriage-feast at Cana. In answer to the apparent rebuke that she received from her Son, she uttered not a word of self-justification, but an instruction to the servants to be exact in their obedience to Jesus. The spirit of criticisnris very danger ous to humility. He who criticizes puts himself above the person or the action criticized, and becomes its self- constituted judge. He looks down on it, and this even though he gives it his 452 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. patronizing approval. All this is at variance with the spirit of humility. Our attitude to the actions of others should be to try to praise and admire as from below, or if we cannot do this, to abstain from speaking if we can, or to make excuses for those who are obvious ly in fault. Unjust and bitter criticism is one of the marks of inveterate pride. The devil is the accuser of the brethren. Much that he urges against them is true, but this is no excuse. Much is false, and in this those who criticize rashly and uncharitably are sure to imitate their model. They fall unconsciously into false and rash judgments ; and even where they were quite certain that they were right, they nevertheless often do serious wrong to those whom they criticize. If they were more humble, they would have a clearer and truer view of the characters and actions of those around them. Humility and Curiosity. Yet how general is this habit of criti cism ! Many who are reputed good Catholics run down their neighbors with a freedom which shows how little they have imbibed of the spirit of the Church and of her saints. A saint is always most gentle in his judgments and words, and seeks to imitate his master, when He said to the poor woman trembling at his feet : " Neither do I condemn thee." Ask yourself whether you are free from fault in this respect, and promise amend ment. Curiosity at first sight does not seem to have any direct bearing on humility ; but in point of fact it is very injurious to it. Those who pry into matters which do not concern them, will find this eager ness after unnecessary information very injurious to their humility. It is opposed to the quiet, peaceful temper of one who does his own work without concerning himself with that of others ; it leads to criticism, the habit of rash judgment, and a dissatisfaction with what goes on around us. It makes the mind dissipated and unsettled, and fosters a sort of un healthy activity outside our own sphere of duty. Curiosity does not mean that we should not be eager for knowledge, but not for knowledge that does not directly or indirectly help forward the work that God has given us to do. What are the affairs of our neighbors to us ? We say, perhaps, that it will increase our influence to know them. It certainly will not increase our influence for good. It may puff us up with an idea of our own importance, and make us fancy that others admire us for it ; but to know too much is not only most dangerous to our humility, but it alienates others from us and makes them fear and dislike us. Humility and Impulsive Action. Curiosity is one of the effects of pride. In Eve it was the immediate effect of her sin of pride. Before she had in dulged a rebellious thought against God, she had no wish for knowledge that God had forbidden. It is often the stepping- stone from pride to other sins : to evil- speaking, to luxury, to greediness, to lying ; and above all, to the weakening of faith and hope. Examine yourself whether you indulge in this dangerous habit of curiosity. Actions done on impulse and without reflection proceed from nature, not from grace. A generous nature acts from geneious impulses ; a selfish nature from the ever-present impulses to provide for THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 453 the interests of self. But such actions do not obtain grace from God or deserve a reward in Heaven. They mark the direction of the stream, but do not assist it on its way. Ask yourself : Do I in general act from impulse ? And in what direction does impulse carry me : What has impulsive action to do with humility ? A good deal ! It always has pride at its root, like most other faults. The humble man avoids it with the greatest care. For impulsive action springs from self and fails to recognize our dependence upon God, and depend ence upon God is of the essence of humility. Even though my impulses may be good, yet I must never allow myself to act merely from impulse, but must try and raise my heart to God, and so supernaturalize even those actions in which there is no time for careful de liberation. This is the duty of every humble person. Humility in Our Estimate of Ourselves. How dangerous is impulse ! How often I have had occasion bitterly to re gret actions done on the impulse of the moment ! I knew I had better wait be fore speaking or acting, but I was not willing to resist the desire to gratify my impulsive nature. I was not held back by the secret consciousness that what I was doing was sinful, imperfect, ill- judged. How many imprudent words, how many foolish actions, how many actual sins have proceeded from my for getting or refusing to acknowledge my continual dependence upon God ! There is no better test of humility than the opinion we form about others as compared with ourselves. If we had to make a list of the virtuous, in what position should we place ourselves ? A man who is really humble will place himself not only last but least, with a great interval between himself and the rest of mankind. St. Dominic used to place himself in spirit beneath the feet of the very demons, as being far worse than they. St. Paul declared himself the very worst of sinners. Can I honestly speak of myself thus? And do I regard myself as the worst of all men in the sight of God ? The Ground of Humility. What should be the ground of this humility? We must not attempt im possibilities. I ought not to think my self worst of all unless I really am so. It may be that I cannot truthfully say that I am in the habit of committing mortal sins. How, then, can I be worse than the notorious sinner? Yet, when I think of all the graces God has given me, I must confess that if He had given them to those who sin most deeply, they would be far better than I am. My only superiority is in greater graces. Humble yourself at the thought of all the graces you have received, and of your frequent failures to co-operate with them. Even if we have never sinned, this would not free us from the obligation of putting ourselves below all and be neath all. Our exemption would be no credit to ourselves, it would simply be a fresh gift of God, which ought to make us more vividly conscious of our vileness and nothingness in his sight. We must always be as nothing in His sight, but sin makes us worse than nothing, a blot upon creation, inferior to the dumb creatures that have never sinned. 454 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. The humble are always patient, and these two virtues are most intimately connected with each other. He who forms a low estimate of himself is con vinced that it is well for him to suffer to be contradicted, to wait for others, to be thwarted in his projects, to have to bear with the ill-temper of others and the unkindness of others. All this he regards as his due, and takes it accord. ingly. Am I thus patient and ready to submit to disagreeables ? The Patience of Humility. On the other hand, impatience is one of the surest signs of hidden pride. If we detect ourselves giving way to im patience and getting "put out ''when we cannot get our own way and carry all before us, we may put it down as certain that we are still very deficient in the virtue of humility. Even physi cal impatience (except when it arises from weakness or ill-health) is a mark of pride. It shows that we have not learned perfectly the lesson of submis sion. Alas ! how impatient I am, in spite of long years of striving after virtue. How deeply rooted pride must be in me ! How can I get rid of this most detestable of vices ! To school ourselves in patience is one of the best means of acquiring humility. Every day a hundred occa sions present themselves when we can, if we choose, check the rising spirit of impatience. We wait at a friend's door, or while walking are kept back by persons who come in our way ; or some sound annoys us, or others take our turn or place. All these are splen did opportunities of acquiring humility by schooling ourselves to patient en durance. The Sweetness of Humility. The humble are always pleasant to deal with, and pleasant in their con versation. They always try to con sult the wishes of the person with whom they have to deal. They con duct themselves as his inferior. They forget themselves and their own inter ests, and so are able to enter into his wishes and see things as he himself sees them. They are ready to give way to him and they have a high esteem for his opinion, and their words and be havior show this. Ask yourself if these are your characteristics. The humble show a special sweet ness towards those to whom they are naturally disinclined, and whom they are tempted to regard with repugnance and aversion. Instead of turning their back on such and having nothing to do with them, they recognize in this natural aversion a sign of pride against which they must struggle and which has to be overcome. They remember that in themselves there are defects, perhaps, far greater than those which they dislike in others, and remember ing this, they not only put up with the disagreeable qualities of others, but de. termine, with a sort of Divine generos ity, for this reason to show the greater kindness to them. This is always the conduct of the Saints. We admire their self-conquest in tenderly nursing those affected with loathsome diseases, in kissing their sores, etc., but we should admire still more their gentleness to those who in sult them, their sweetness and charity to the coarse and rude and brutal. This is the way to win sinners to Christ. This is the way to attain solid THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 455 peace and joy of heart. It is the charity of Christ overcoming self that makes the humble always contented and happy. The Beauty of Humility. Humility is not only sweet and pleas ant to others, it is beautiful in itself. It is the primary means of attaining a likeness to God : since His image in us cannot be perfect as long as there is present in our hearts any vestige of pride. But when humility shall have driven out the opposing vice, then we become indeed like to God. We share the Divine beauty and are the object of the admiration of the holy Angels, and even of God Himself, who then speaks to the soul in the words of the Divine Lover in the Canticles: "Thou art all fair, my beloved, and there is no spot in thee." Humility is also beautiful because it is the root whence all other virtues spring. We may say of it that it has in itself the combined beauty of all. If we find a man humble, we know that he must needs be patient, charit able, unselfish, generous, obedient, and we cannot help admiring and loving him. May not my deficiency in these virtues be due to my lack of humility ? O my God, plant firmly in my heart this most indispensable and most attrac tive virtue ! Nothing will so quickly render us conformed to the Divine beauty of the Son of God as humility. " Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart." If we desire to draw men to us and to attract them, to be efficient in moving their hearts and influencing them for good, we must first learn this lesson of humility from Him Whose Soul was beautiful beyond that of all the sons of men, because none had humility like His. When God lays His heavy hand upon us, we have an excellent opportunity of exercising the virtue of humility, and of making great progress in it. There is nothing like a good knock-down blow for teaching us our own nothingness, and for schooling us in submission to God. If we take the chastisement well, and do not allow ourselves to rebel against the will of God, but rather make it an occasion for humbling ourselves the more in His sight, we shall acquire more grace from God and advance more in perfection in a day than in months of prosperity and spiritual consolation. How do I bear the trials God sends — well, or ill ? Humility under Trials. When the time of darkness is upon us and the gloom seems almost intolerable, there is no harm in praying for release from our misery or that God may avert some threatened blow, but the petition must always be accompanied by an act of humility. " Not my will, but Thine be done ! " If we are patient, God will certainly send us speedy relief; just when we least expect it, peace will be restored to our souls. Those trials are intended by God to cleanse our souls, and to root up the pride that still lurks unnoticed by us. The best prayer for us to offer under them, and indeed at all times and at all seasons, is to cry out to God. Humble me, O God, and I shall be humbled. Burn out of me now in this life all that displeases Thee, that I may not have to endure the burning of the life to come ! Happy those who in all trouble can offer this prayer ! 456 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. Humiliation is a very painful thing, and our pride shrinks from it. Yet it is a necessary step to humility. We must be humbled in order that we may be humble. We must learn not to shun dishonor if we are to learn not to crave honor from men. When some slight is shown us, when we are passed over or put down, or judged unfairly, we have an excellent opportunity of advancing humility by accepting with patience and resignation the contempt and dis honor, and not attempting to defend ourselves or assert our rights and our claim to be treated with consideration and respect. Humiliation. When we commit some fault which causes others to think less of us, we should be full of sorrow at the thought of having offended God, and given dis- edification to our neighbor, but we must not seek to shun the just contempt we have deserved, or allow ourselves to be miserable at the thought of being de spised. On the contrary, we must be content to be esteemed according to our merits, and must thank God for teach ing us this lesson, and giving us a great er insight into ourselves. It is a sure sign of pride if we seek to shirk the consequences of our fault as Saul did when he begged Samuel still to honor him before the ancients of Israel, (i Kings xv. 30.) Such con duct only brings fresh humiliations. God, who resists the proud, always brings down those who refuse to hum ble themselves. The devils who would not willingly bow the knee before Christ made Man, were forced to do so. So God sooner or later will force all the proud, willingly or unwillingly to bow before Him. The Preservation of Humility. When God gives us consolation and peace of soul, we are in danger of losing our sense oi dependence and our hu mility, unless we bear in mind (1) That all this happiness is a gift of God which He may at any moment take from us, and that if He does but turn His face from us, our joy will be turned to sor row and heaviness. (2) That we live continually on the edge of a precipice, and without a humble reliance upon God we shall be sure to fall over it. (3) That prayer to God is necessary to keep us humble and to keep us from attrib uting to ourselves His good gifts. However great may be the graces given us, and however high the degree of virtue we may attain, we are never safe unless we remember that we have in ourselves an inextinguishable fount of sin and weakness, of concupiscence and rebellion against God, otherwise our very graces may prove our ruin. We must cry out to God each morning as St. Philip did: "Beware of me, O my God, this day, lest I betray Thee." Guard me against myself and the traitor within my heart that makes me so often unfaithful to Thee. Heal my soul, which abounds with what is displeasing to Thee. Those who have great natural talents are in especial danger unless they culti vate this constant dependence upon God. Their very ability is a danger to them, and makes them plume them selves on what they are able to effect. So did Nabuchodonosor, and God took from him for a time his reason, until he recognized his own nothingness. Be ware of priding yourself on anything you do, lest God take away the talent which has been the cause of so great an eviL THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 457 It is not easy to be humble when we are praised and flattered. Our self-love sucks in with eagerness the words of compliment. We think they must be partly true, or at least we are tempted to exult in the high opinion that others profess of us. Such occasions are very perilous to humility. We should do well to think of Herod when the people listened to his oration, and shouted out: " It is the voice of a god and not of a man." We read that because he took the glory to himself instead of giving it to God, he was smitten down by the Angel of the Lord and died miserably. (Acts xii.) Certain Temptations against Humility. Yet we cannot help being pleased when others speak kindly of us, and we ought to be pleased when our superiors commend us. But we must observe certain precautions, (i) We must take care to rejoice rather in the kindness of others than in their praise. (2) We must strive and forget ourselves, and raise our heart to God, and offer Him our success. (3) We must make an act of humility at the thought that if those who praise us saw us as God sees us, they would despise, not honor us. If we find that we are puffed up by praise, this is a fresh proof of our im perfection, The saints disliked and dreaded praise, and when they were blamed unjustly, thanked God and took it as a mark of His love and favor. Father Lancicius used to consider un just reproaches as pure gain, because they had no drawback of self-reproach or regret. Which do I accept most gladly, undue praise or undeserved blame ? To have to recognize defects in our selves is always painful to human na ture. We should like to think ourselves perfect, or at any rate free from any very serious faults. But in spite of all our efforts the fact of our many imperfec tions and blemishes thrusts itself upon us, and the difference between the man of good-will and lover of self is that the one turns himself with all his energy to cure his defects, and the other seeks to palliate them and excuse them, and hide them as best he can from himself and others.Humility under Correction. One of the best means of getting rid of our faults is to be told .of them by others. Here again another signal dif. ference is seen between the proud man and the humble. The one is grateful for the correction, and turns at once to avail himself of it : the other resents it, and is more inclined to think how he can revenge himself on his reprover than how he can remedy his own defect. Judged by this test, am I among the proud or the humble. Is my first im pulse when reproved vexation and anger, or sorrow and a wish to amend ? There is a closer test still. The proud sometimes avail themselves of reproof and correct their faults by reason of it. But they seek to conceal from their re prover the fact that they are following his counsel; they will not acknowledge that they are being guided by him. But thqse who are truly humble rejoice in letting others see that they are adopt ing their advice in submitting them selves to reproof with gratitude as coming from God and as a favor be stowed on them. Can I stand this test? 458 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. When St. Peter and his companions had, at the word of Jesus, cast their nets and enclosed the miraculous draught of fishes, St. Peter's first impulse was to throw himself at Jesus' feet, and hum bly cry, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord !" Success, instead of puffing him up, made him recognize his own sinfulness and unworthiness of the favors that God had done him. This should be the effect of success on us : to humble ourselves and declare ourselves unworthy of such benefits as God has bestowed upon us. Humility in Success. Yet success is meant to encourage us. We cannot help being conscious of hav ing done well and given satisfaction, and it would be foolish and ungrateful to ignore the fact. But our spirit must be that of St. Bernard, who did not deny the marvels that God had wrought through him, but expressed his aston ishment that God could make use of such an instrument. So we should regard it as a fresh proof of God's power and love, that He should work the marvels of His grace through us. Thus to humble ourselves amid the approval and applause of others is no easy task. It is very possible to cry out, " Not unto us, O Lord, but to Thy Name be the praise," and all the time to be puffed up with pride. The real test is whether we pray at such mo ments, " Humble me, O Lord, and teach me my own nothingness, and make me continually depend on Thee, and in my heart attribute to Thee all the glory and to myself nothing. " Such a prayer, if it comes from our heart, is a certain safeguard for our humility. It may seem comparatively easy to be humble when we fail and are disap pointed, but in point of fact it is a very difficult task. Failures wound our pride, and wounded pride is wont to re sent the smart. Either anger, rage, or a desire for revenge on those who have caused our failure supervenes, or else we are utterly cast down and dispirited, and ready to give up all further effort. Ask yourself how failures affect you. Humility under Failures. Yet even when they are not borne al together as they should be, failures are very useful to the soul. Under their influence we can scarcely keep from having a lower opinion of ourselves, and learning the necessary lesson of endu rance of what we dislike. It yields, al most without any co-operation on our part, the peaceable fruit of justice to those that are exercised thereby. (He brews xii. n.) Though failure may bring out evil tendencies which are more powerful to us, and of which we cannot help being conscious, yet the uncon scious pride that success endangers is far more dangerous to the soul. Thank God, then, for your failures. What would be our spirit under fail ure or apparent failure ? (i) We must not be cast down or dispirited, but be gin again cheerily. (2) We must be ware of blaming others who have caused or contributed to it. (3) We must at tribute to it our own defects, or to the just judgment of God punishing our sins in the past. (4) We must thank God for it, offer it up to Him, and beg that it may make us more humble. (5) We must remember that for those who love God there is no failure. All is success under the guise of failure, for THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 459 to those who love God all things work together for good. How are we to know whether we are humble ? If we think that we are humble, we may be quite sure that we are not really humble at all. There is no more cer tain sign of pride than not to be aware of its existence in ourselves. What saint ever lived who did not acknowl edge and lament his pride and self- love ? A saint who should believe him self to be thoroughly humble would be no saint at all. How far do I recog nize in myself an ever-running sore of pride, making me foul and unsightly before God, who hates the proud and gives grace only to the humble. Consciousness of Humility. If I find that I take with patience and good humor disparaging remarks, attacks, and contradictions from others, it is a good sign, but not a certain sign that I am humble. Pride that apes hu mility often renders a man proof against what others think. He wraps himself in his cloak of pride, and looks down on their opinion of him. Nor is indif ference to the praise and honor of those around a certain sign, for this too may come from pride and a spirit of con tempt. But if any one (i) recognizes himself as full of pride; (2) dislikes the idea of being honored and praised; (3) desires humiliations and prays for them; (4) thinks himself to deserve the worst of everything and the lowest place, then he may hope that he has begun to walk the road which in the end may through God's grace produce in him the virtue of humility. Examine yourself on these points, thank God for any signs of progress, and lament over still remain ing defects. Humility in Prayer. We are all anxious that God should hear and grant our prayers. He is al ways ready to do so. The obstacles are always on our side, and one of the chief of these is a want of humility. If God resists the proud, He is not likely to hear their prayers ; hence one of the first requisites of success in my prayers is that I should humble myself before God. Then, and not till then, will my prayer reach the ears of the Most High. " The prayer of him that humbleth himself pierces the clouds." One of the most dangerous forms of pride is a contempt for others, and one that we may be very prone to without realizing its ruinous effects upon our prayers. When the self-complacent Pharisee thanked God that he was not like the poor publican, he propably was quite unconscious that his prayer was offensive to God. Pride blinded him. So it often blinds us ; and we little think, when in prayer we secretly congratulate ourselves on being free from certain faults which we see in our neighbors, that all the while we are displeasing God by thus harshly judging others. How are we to be humble in prayer ? By dwelling on our own miseries and the good points which we see in those around, or which we should see if it were not that our own pride makes us blind to their superiority to us, and the fact that the graces God has liberally bestowed on us make our ingratitude and our want of correspondence to them all the more culpable. When we compare the humility of Jesus Christ with that which is possible 460 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. to ourselves, it seems as though the virtue in us does not deserve the name, for He who was omnipotent God lowered Him self to become the lowest of men. Such an act of humility was an infinite abase ment of Himself, and had an infinite value in the sight of God. The Divine Word submitted to the obliteration of all His glory and majesty when He became man. This was humility indeed ! But what is our humility ? Simply placing ourselves in a position which more nearly approaches that which we deserve to occupy. When I humble myself, I simply divest myself of the false position of seeming to have any virtue or dignity or claim to honor of my own. Models of Humility. : (1) Jesus Christ. Even when He had lowered Himself to the nature of man, He was not satis fied, but He must needs seek out every kind of contempt and insult. He was regarded as a madman, as possessed with a devil, as a wine-bibber, as an impostor, as a leader of sedition, as a fool, as a criminal, as a blasphemer. All this He took upon Himself of His own accord, and deemed an honor. Is it not strange that I should shrink from sharing what the Son of God chose as the fitting treat ment of His Human Nature ? He did more than this. He so identi fied Himself with human sin that He is said by the Apostle to have been made sin for us, and by this means He was able to find a fresh motive for humbling Himself as being laden with sin in the sight of His Heavenly Father. If Hej the spotless Lamb, thus sought out motives of humiliation, how is it that I, on the contrary, seem to avoid all that humbles me? No one of all the children of Adam ever approached the Blessed Virgin Mary in humility. What had she to make her humble ? No sin or imper fection for which to humble herself be fore God. Yet the greatest of sinners never humbled himself as did Mary. How was this ? It was because no one save she ever recognized her own nothingness in God's sight. This is the surest basis for humility. It is because we do not recognize our utter insig nificance and the absence of any good in us save what is the gift of God, that we are so wanting in humility. Models of Humility : (2) The Blessed Virgin. Thus it was that because Mary had a right to the highest place that she always sought the lowest. This is the law that everywhere prevails. Those who deserve the lowest place seek the highest, and those who deserve the highest seek the lowest. It is the enemies of God who do not like to come down. His friends recognize the lowest place as the place most suitable for them. Am I in this respect one of God's friends or one of His enemies ? Mary's humility was also the result of her desire to be like to her Divine Son in all things. When she saw Him stoop from the highest Heaven to earth, she longed to stoop to the very dust. She placed herself in spirit beneath the feet of all, and would have placed herself lower still if it had been possible. For what humiliation could even Mary en dure that was in any way comparable to that of her Son ? If Mary, then, is my Queen and Mother, I will seek to imitate her in this. If the Immaculate Mother of God loved to humble herself, how much more should I, who am but a miserable worm of earth ? THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. 461 Some Saints excelled in one virtue, some in another, but all were pre-eminent in humility. The heroes of the Church of God, whether under the Old or the New Dispensation, were marked off from the heroes of paganism by their humility. Thus Abraham described himself as dust and ashes. Job, in the presence of God, expressed his abhor rence of himself. David, when visited by the hand of God, thanks Him for having humbled him. Daniel declares that to him belongs shame and confusion of face. If, even without the example of Jesus and Mary before them, these Saints were so humble, what ought you to be! Models of Humility : (3) The Saints. The Saints of the New Testament are still more conspicuous for their hu mility. St. Paul believed and declared himself to be the chief of sinners. St. Bernard expressed his astonishment that God should work miracles by the hands of one so vile as he. St. Dominic, be fore entering a city, used to pray that he might not bring down judgments upon it for his sins. St. Philip Neri used to invent ingenious methods of drawing down ridicule upon himself. St. Francis Borgia, when some one by accident spat in his face, merely remarked that he could not have found a more suitable place to spit upon. Compare the hu mility of these Saints with your own pride, and humble yourself before God. The Saints were not exaggerated in their sentiments. They said with truth that if God had given to the greatest of sinners the graces given to them, they might perhaps have been far holier than they. Think of the graces given you. How often you have abused and rejected them ! If the Saints could lament over graces lost, how ought you to humble yourself for your ingratitude. The Fruit of Humility. There is nothing that gives such a solid peace as humility. At the begin ning it is difficult, and we smart under the wounds that our pride has to suffer, before it can be destroyed in us; but a holy perseverance in the practice of humility will spread over the soul such a sweet and calm tranquility, that even in this life the soul begins to taste the joys of the heavenly paradise. Troubles, disappointments, unkindness, injustice, insults, do not disturb the quiet hap piness of one who is really humble, and he appreciates continually the truth of our Lord's words: "Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest to your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light." Humility is also the best possible safeguard against the attacks of the devil. The humble man can say as our Lord did: "The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me." Or as St. Martin said when dying : ' 'Why art thou here, O evil one ? No malice wilt thou find in Me." Nor the devil any chance of success in tempting the humble. Their continual disposition is one of dependence on God, and there fore no temptation has power to lead them astray. Humility is also the root whence all the other virtues spring. A humble man is always charitable, for he never thinks of himself, but always of doing something for God. For the same rea son he is full of zeal ; he is prudent, for he always relies on God, never on him self; he is a man of prayer, because he 462 THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY. looks to God for everything ; he is pure of heart, because he never in anything desires to please himself, but always to please God. Are these points of humility to be found in me ? Humility in Heaven. Is there any place for humility among the Saints in Heaven ? Or is it, like faith and hope, a virtue limited to this valley of tears ? It might seem that in Heaven there are no motives for humil ity, no sins, no imperfections, no defects of any kind for which to humble our selves. Yet only in Heaven will our humility be perfected, for only in Heav en shall we have a thorough knowledge of God and a thorough knowledge of ourselves. This knowledge will make us recognize even more than ever our own nothingness and God's infinite per fections. Our recognition of this will make us forget ourselves as we never can do on earth, so that God will be all in all to us. Will this appreciation of our own nothingness be painful ? No, it will be a source of eternal joy. For then we shall be able to rejoice in God ; our happiness will be unclouded by any in terfering thought of self. Our admira tion of His perfect beauty will absorb all our facilities. Our absolute depend ence on Him will be the truest inde pendence. It will make us conformed to the image of the Son of God, the chief glory in whose Sacred Humanity will be the result of its dependence on His Divine Nature. Hence in Heaven the Angels and Saints are represented as casting down their crowns before the throne of God, as falling on their faces and crying con tinually, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of hosts." If the highest dignity and chiefest joy of the Saints is to be pros trate before the throne of God, we can never humble ourselves enough on earth since those acts of humility will make our life like the life of Heaven, and will fill us with a joy which will be a fore taste of the joy of the redeemed. The Lord's Prayer. BY FATHER JEROME SAVONAROLA, O. E- HE virtue, by which we pay to God the worship due to Him, as the Creator and Ruler of all things, is called the virtue of " Re ligion." This worship is of two kinds, exterior and interior ; and the exterior worship is of less consequence than the interior. The sacraments of the Church and all outward rites and ceremonies are intended to promote the inner worship of the mind. The principal aim, therefore, of the religious life of all Christians should be to worship God by interior acts ; al though exterior acts, and especially such as are of obligation, are by no means to be omitted. By interior acts I mean reading, prayer, meditation, and con templation, which all concern the under standing. These give rise to feelings of hope, love, and devotion, and all the other acts of the affections, and by means of them a man becomes perfect in his knowledge and love of God. The understanding must do its work before the affections, for we cannot love what we do not know. Thus a man who wishes to attain to a real love of God (and this is the aim of the spiritual life) must exercise himself to the utmost in interior acts of the understanding. God has given us the Holy Scriptures, that we may learn from them to know His goodness, and may stir up our affections to that love of God and of our neighbor without which all our other actions can profit us nothing. If a man desires to have a true under standing of God's Holy Scriptures, he must read them again and again, and make himself familiar with them. When he has mastered the first or literal mean ing, he must meditate upon the words, so as to discover their more hidden sense and this he will be able to do by the aid of other and less obscure passages. Knowledge is worthless without action ; so when a man has understood the spiritual meaning of the words of Holy Scripture, he must ask of God grace to lead him on to love and good works. If he act thus day by day, he will make such progress as to proceed readily to contemplation. To display the truth of this easily and plainly, and to open a way to the study of other parts of Scripture, we will take the Lord's Prayer, with which all men are familiar- Let us consider its words, reading them, meditating upon them, using them in prayer and as a subject for con templation. What will be said of them may be applied to other parts of Scrip ture, according to the peculiar character of each. If a man attempts to read the Holy Scriptures without supernatural light, he hinders and frustrates his own pur- 463 464 THE LORD'S PRAYER. pose ; for though he may read, he will not understand them, and to read thus is to waste time. Natural knowledge may be acquired by the light of reason, which every man possesses, but the power of grasping the knowledge in spired by God is dependent upon the gift of divine light. Hence many people read the Scrip tures, and, not understanding them, despise them, and so in their case the prophecy of Isaias is fulfilled, who says : " The vision of all (the prophets) shall be unto you as the words of a book that is sealed" (Is. xxix. n.) Spiritual Insight. Not having spiritual sight, they can no more understand them than a blind man can judge of colors. Would that such men humbly made answer accord ing to the next words of Isaias : " Which when they shall deliver to one that is learned they shall say — Read this — and he shall answer — I cannot, for it is sealed. And the book shall be given to one that knoweth no letters, and it shall be said unto him — Read — and he shall answer — I know no letters." No man, whether he be learned or un learned, can understand the Scriptures unless he have that light upon which the comprehension of them depends. Hence let none venture to read them unless he be cleansed from his sins, remembering that they deal with the most exalted subjects and demand the deepest attention. If a man therefore wishes to benefit by reading Holy Scripture, he must first be cleansed from his sins, and must set aside the cares of this world, and with draw into his own chamber, and then, purposing to read with all faith and humility, he should begin with prayer. He should ask God to enlighten him so that he may attain to a perfect under standing of what he reads, and may ex perience the results of it in himself, that is to say, that he may test its hidden working by the good deeds which it en. ables him to perform. Thus should he pray, and then he will understand, not so much from books and commentaries, as from light be stowed upon him by God, and from ex perience. He should take care not to read hastily, but he should carefully weigh each word, and believe most faithfully that all the words which he reads are absolutely true, inasmuch as they proceed from One who cannot err. The words of the Our Father should be read with reverence and fear, if we desire fully to understand their deep meaning, by the help of Him who was the author. Our Father. It is by a special and threefold privilege that man may call God his Father. First, because of his creation, for God created man to His own image and like ness (Gen. i. 26.) Secondly, because of God's dealings with him, for God does not treat him as a master treats a slave, but He regards man as the lord of the rest of creation, and He governs His elect with a peculiar interest, making all things work together unto their good (Rom. viii. 28.) Thirdly, because of his supernatural adoption, for through the blood of Christ, His only-begotten Son, God has adopted him, and made him heir to eternal life. THE LORD'S PRAYER. 465 If by heaven we mean the sky which we see with our bodily eyes, we may say God is in heaven ; not as though He were there and not elsewhere, for God is everywhere. We must not under stand Him to be in the heavens as in a limited and circumscribed space, but we may say that He is there, because in them we behold His most glorious works. We know that God is in all things) and His action is everywhere present, but He is said especially to be in the heavens, because His power is there shown forth with the greatest splendor. By thinking of the heavens, we arrive at a better knowledge of God's nature, for just as the heavenly bodies are far above us, and influence the generation of things on earth, as also they are in corruptible and bright, so, in the same way, God in His nature far surpasseth everything in greatness. Who Art in Heaven. His power preserveth all things, His strength worketh in all things, His changeless eternity imparteth to all else the power of motion. God sheddeth upon all things His marvellous light, and enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world (John i. 9). We may, however, mean by ' ' heaven " the angels and the blessed and the saints, as in the words of the Psalm: "The heavens show forth the glory of God, and the firmament declareth the work of His hands " (Ps. xviii. 1). In this sense we say that God is in heaven, be cause He dwells with the blessed in His glory, and with the saints who are in this present life by His grace. Or we may understand by " heaven " the eternal rewards promised to the just, 30-C F Vol. 2 as we read : " Your reward is very great in heaven" (Matt. v. 12). We mean that God is in heaven, in the eternal hap piness, which, like a loving Father, He is preparing for His children, and He may be said to dwell amongst those re wards which He is preparing, with the intention of bestowing them upon us hereafter. Hallowed be Thy Name. If God be considered in Himself, the first and greatest of His names is that He called Himself, saying, "I am who am " (Ex. iii. 10). If He be considered as the first cause, His name, as Diony- sius taught, is Good. For the end is the cause of other causes, which all lead up to one aim, namely, to what is good : as, therefore, God is the first cause, this name of Good is very suitable to Him. Our Saviour taught us this when He said: "One is good — God" (Matt. xix. 17). He alone is essentially good. Al though this first petition in the prayer may be applied to any of God's names, still in a special sense it must be referred to this name " Good." We desire God's goodness to be shed abroad in the hearts of men, and when they are thus ren dered holy, the name of God is hallow ed ; that is to say, it is regarded as sacred and worthy of all reverence. We pray, therefore, first, that God's name may be sanctified in us, that we may know His goodness, and love Him with all our hearts. When the ancient philosophers had known God, they glorified Him not as God, nor gave thanks (Rom. i. 21), for they did not know His goodness. They could not understand that this goodness was so infinite as to lead Him to humble 466 THE LORD'S PRAYER. Himself, emptying Himself of His glory in order to become man, being obedient unto death, even the death of the cross (Phil. ii. 8). When, however, through the preaching of the Apostles men had learnt this, they at once abandoned their sins, and were sanctified in the sweet ness of God's goodness, desiring His name to be hallowed in themselves — first, in knowledge and love, and then in all the rest of mankind throughout the world. We must then say : " Hallowed be Thy name," in order that it may be sanctified — first in ourselves, when we know, love, and honor God; and then we must go on to pray that by means of preaching, exhortations, blessings, and miracles, His name may be made known all over the world, and may be rever enced and praised by all men, and this not only in word and speech, but by good and perfect works. Thus will our light shine before men, that they may see our good works, and glorify our Father who is in heaven (Matt. v. 16). Thy Kingdom Come. We may understand this petition as a prayer for God's kingdom, for He rules all men. At the present time wicked and sinful men seem not to be subject to Him, and He appears not to rule them, because He does not punish them; while, at the same time, He appears to take no heed of the just, because He al lows them to endure many evils. For this reason we pray that His king dom may come ; that is to say, that His power may be manifested by the punish ment of the bad and the recompense of good, so that God's name may not al ways be blasphemed, and that men may no longer impiously assert, as many do now, that God cares nothing for man kind, or that He is not just. But there is another sense in which we may pray for God's kingdom to come ; we may think of His kingdom as the bliss which He has promised to His saints. For this all ought earnestly to long, praying constantly to God, say ing : "Thy kingdom come." It is, however, most wise and true to use the prayer in both senses. Thy Will be Done on Earth, as it is in Heaven. In the brightness of heaven, the abode of eternal bliss, God's will is done by all, through the abundance of His per fect grace, and, therefore, we pray that His will may be done also on earth, that is by men living on the earth, through the abundance of His grace, just as it is done in heaven. Not indeed with equal perfection, for there is a wide difference between 'those who are in this world on the way to their last end and those who have reach ed it in heaven. Still there is a certain likeness between the two, for we can serve God with pure and upright hearts, following the example of the saints. Give us this Day Our Daily Bread. Man has a twofold nature, having both body and soul, and as both are frail and weak, he needs a twofold nourishment ; spiritual and corporal food. We pray, therefore, first, for the spiritual food of the soul, and this food consists of two things, namely, the word of God, as it is written : " Man liveth not by bread alone, but by every word that proceed ed out of the mouth of God " (Matt. iv. 4 ; Deut. viii. 3), and the sacrament of the Eucharist, for our Saviour says • THE LORD'S PRAYER. 467 " My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed " (John vi. 56), and an other evangelist gives the words of the prayer as "Give us this day our super- substantial bread '' (Matt. vi. 11). In the second place, we ask for bread for the body, meaning by bread all those things which are necessary, such as food, clothing, a dwelling- place, and the like — but bread alone is mentioned, to teach us to desire only what is really necessary for the body. And Forgive us Our Trespasses as we Forgive Them that Trespass Against us. He who takes away anything from another becomes his debtor, and what is taken away is called a debt. We are God's debtor, and all that we have is His, and we ought at all times to honor Him for it. All sin is a wrong done to God, and when we sin, we deprive Him of the honor that is His due. We are His debtors, and our sins are the debt which we ask Him to forgive, as we intend to forsake them, and for the future to honor God in our works. And that we may dispose Him the more to pardon us, we pardon our debtors who have wronged us, and we forgive them their debts and offences. If a man does not forgive, he cannot hope for forgiveness from God. Yet one who is hard-hearted and unwilling to spare his enemy ought not on that account to omit this prayer, or even this part of it, but he must use it in the person of the Church, and thus he will not lie, for the Church pardons those who offended against her. Otherwise, every time a man refused to say this prayer, or this petition in it, he would commit a mortal sin, not be cause of his refusal to say the prayer, but because his refusal was due to his unwillingness to forgive. And Lead us Not Into Temptation. God and the devil tempt men in dif ferent ways. — God tempts man to bring him to good and not to evil, as St. James says (i. 13): "God is not a tempter of evils." God tempts, or rather tests the just, not that He may learn to know them, but that others may do so, and may imitate them ; and this is the way in which He tempted Abraham and Job. But the devil tempts or tries a man that he may make him fall into evil. He tries to make him consent to sin, and uses the outside world or the flesh as his instruments. Therefore we pray — lead us not into temptation ; that is, suffer us not to yield to the devil or the world or the flesh, so as to consent to sin. In Holy Scripture God is often said to do things that He does not actually do Himself, but simply allows to be done. So in the Book of Exodus (vii. 3) God says to Himself: "I shall harden his heart ;" and again we read (ix. 12): "And the Lord hard ened Pharao's heart," and he says to Pharao : " And therefore have I raised thee, that I may show my power in thee, and my name may be spoken of throughout all the earth." It is then in this sense that we pray, " lead us not into temptation," not be cause God Himself makes men yield to temptation, but because sometimes as a punishment for their sins He allows them to fall into it. But Deliver us From Evil. Trials are necessary for us, as other wise our virtues could not be preserved or increased; and yet we pray to be 468 THE LORD'S PRAYER. delivered from them, not meaning that we wish them to be altogether averted, but acknowledging our need of God's goodness to strengthen us, so that they may not overpower us. Without the special help of God no man can perse vere in good works in the midst of tribulations. Some people regard this petition as the same as the one preceding it, in which we beg God not to suffer us to consent to sin, and, as if summing up the whole thought, we add — But deliver us from evil ; deliver us from the devil, or from hell, which is perfect misery, and may be described as that which is truly evil. Through Jesus Christ Our Lord. These words are very fitly added by the faithful to this prayer when they use it in private, but not in public, for then the custom of the Church ought to be followed. We may, however, notice that the Church concludes almost all her prayers with these words, and does so rightly, for all our merits de pend upon the merits of the passion of Christ, through whom alone all good gifts are bestowed upon us. Well, therefore, is it to ask for everything through Him, and through Him to give thanks to God the Father for all His mercies. Amen. This word has three meanings, namely, "the truth," "faithfully," and " so be it." When the prayer has been duly offered, we answer Amen, meaning that we know it to be the truth that God is our Father and is in heaven, and we ask these things of Him faith fully ; that is to say, we persevere in His faith and love Him, and there fore we pray that what we ask may be done. As God in the author of Holy Scrip ture, His words are undoubtedly of such weight that it is impossible for man to arrive at a full and perfect understand ing of them. We examine the words of great men with the utmost care, in order to learn their meaning, and how much more ought we to ponder the words of God, for of His wisdom there is no end. When by reading we have gained some amount of understanding, we ought to proceed to meditate upon these most holy words, and, like the Apostles, to rub the ears of corn in our hands, that we may cast away the husk and find the real grain ; and when we have found it, we must crush it, as it were, with our teeth, so as to get the goodness out of it, and make a delicious kind of food of it. Our Father. Whoever meditates often upon the Scriptures with faith, humility, and sincerity of heart, will advance wonder fully in understanding and love, and will never fail to obtain some fruit. Sometimes God reveals new meanings in the same familiar words, if we study them again and again. Therefore, after reading the Lord's Prayer, a man ought to apply himself to meditation upon its words, and, shutting out the noise of the world, he should turn to his own soul and say : O my soul, God is our Father in virtue of our creation, in which we differ from all other beings, because of the peculiar way in which He governs us and of our supernatural adoption by THE LORD'S PRAYER. 469 Him. We are certainly bound to love Him with all our hearts. Every effect loves its cause, and the particular good loves the universal good even more than itself. As God is our Father, He must be honored by us, not only in word and speech, but in thought and deed. Patience and Obedience. As He is our Father we must imitate Him, like children imitating a good and just father ; wherefore our Saviour said : " Be ye therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect " (Matt. v. 48). As He is our Father, we must obey Him and keep all His command ments. As he is our Father we must endure His chastisements patiently, for "what son is there whom the father does not correct ? " (Heb. xii. 7), and a father does not correct his children in hatred, but in love, to render them perfect. As He is our Father, He is the Father of all men, and especially of the elect, and it follows that we are all brethren ; therefore let us love one another, so that each may desire his brother's eternal salvation, since we are the sons of one Father, and co-heirs of eternal life. We must love one another in a reason able way, wishing our brethren to pos sess great rather than small benefits, spiritual rather than temporal mercies, grace and glory rather than riches and honors. It is right also to prefer the good to the evil, and the perfect to the sinful. We should love one another also with holiness, seeking in our brethren and in their actions the glory of God and the salvation of souls. Our love for one another should also Show itself by acts, loving, not only in word, but in deed (1 John iii. 18), and doing good and helping our brethren in their need. Moreover our love should be sincere from the depth of our hearts, that there may be in us no root of bit terness (Heb. xii. 15), and no trace of spite or malice. Our love must also be generous, so that we may extend our charity even to our enemies, for we are all brothers. Lastly, we must love with persever ance, for he that shall persevere unto the end, he shall be saved (Matt. x. 22). Therefore in these two words, "Our Father,' ' we may consider the two com mandments upon which depend the whole law and the prophets, as it is written : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, with thy whole soul, and with thy whole strength, and thy neighbor as thyself" (Matt. xxii. 38-40, Mark xii. 30-31, Deut. vi. 5). Who Art In Heaven. Remember, my soul, that where thy Father is, there is thine inheritance. Consider then that as He is in heaven, thou hast no inheritance upon the earth. Thou art but a pilgrim, hastening to the home which thou art to inherit, and being thus merely a pilgrim in this life, seek not the good things of earth ; be content with what is needful ; and, as pilgrims are ever looking forward to their return, so try to be in thought always in heaven, turning towards Him of whom it is said : ' ' Seek His face evermore " (Ps. civ. 4). Hallowed Be Thy Name. O my soul, if good sons honor earthly fathers, how much more ought we to honor our Eternal Father, from whom 470 THE LORD'S PRAYER. comes all our good ! We do not indeed see Him, but as by means of visible things, we learn to know what is in visible, God has given Himself to us in visible sacraments, to enable us to honor Him. We do not honor created things for their own sake, but we honor God, the Creator and Father, who reveals Himself by the things He has made. Of all means of indicating anything, the name is the most expressive, hence the definition of a name is "a word chosen to signify some given object," and so among all the various means of honoring God, special mention is made of His name, by which all His perfec tions are brought to the mind. We ought to treat God as holy, and rever ence Him in our hearts, purifying our consciences from all earthly stains and affections, and we must also honor Him in word, by preaching Him, praising and blessing Him, and in deed, by keeping His commandments, and acting righteously both in His sight, and in that of all men. Honor for Saints. And we must show our respect by bending the knee before Him and ador ing Him, and we ought to reverence the Cross, and figures of our Lord, and we must honor His mother and the saints, and all the prelates of the Church, priests, kings, princes, judges, and all who represent Him. In the same way it is our duty to re spect Holy Scripture, both in writing and speaking, so as never to mix up the words of Holy Scripture with frivolous remarks, nor to trample them, so to say, beneath our feet, nor to quote them in jest, or lightly, or with ridicule, but we must take care to say and hear the Word of God with much seriousness and reverence, and above all, when we pronounce the most holy name of Jesus, of which it is said : In the name of Jesus every knee should bow of those that are in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth (Phil. ii. 10). Thy Kingdom Come. O my soul, those who love this world desire earthly riches, they seek king doms that will perish, and desire to have kings for their friends, and pray for the prosperity of the princes whom they love. But let us say to God, "Thy king dom come." How great is this king dom, where, as St. Augustine says, " there is no fear of poverty, no feeble ness of sickness, no one is angry nor envious, no cupidity consumes men, no desire for dainty food assails them, nor love of temporal honors, nor ambition for power. No one fears the devil, no snares are laid by evil spirits, no one dreads hell, no death is possible either of body or of soul, but life is happy with the joy of immortality. There will then be no discords, all will be in harmony and at peace, and the brightness will never be changed to darkness. And over and above all this we shall enjoy the com pany of the angels and of all who dwell in heaven, we shall be associated with the virtues, and behold bands of saints, shining more brightly than the stars, hosts of patriarchs, radiant with faith, prophets rejoicing in hope, apostles pre siding over the twelve tribes of Israel and judging the world, martyrs wearing the purple crowns of victory, and vir gins bearing garlands of white flowers. No tongue can describe the glory of the THE LORD'S PRAYER. 471 King who sits enthroned in their midst. If we had to submit to daily torments and even to feel the agony of hell itself for a time, in order to see Christ coming in His glory, and be admitted to the num ber of His saints, should we not gladly suffer anything, however painful it might be, if thereby we might be allowed to share in such happiness and glory? Therefore let us cry out to God - with heartfelt longing, "Thy kingdom come," deeming all earthly kingdoms and their glory to be mere dross and vanity. Thy Will be Done on Earth as it is in Heaven. The will of God must needs be per fectly just, it is in fact justice itself, and the rule of all things and all ac tions ; and he who does the will of God cannot go astray. Therefore the blessed in heaven, who always do God's will, can never err, but walk in justice, in truth, and in equity. Created beings that have not the gift of free will are acted on by the will of God, and therefore cannot go wrong. The lost in hell have a will that is free, but devoid of grace, and so they are always in error, and walk crookedly and are miserable, desiring ever that which they cannot have. The wicked in this world are like them, and of them Isaias the prophet says : " The wicked are like the raging sea, which cannot rest, and the waves thereof cast up dirt and mire. There is no peace to the wicked, saith the Lord God" (Is. lvii. 20, 21). The further any man departs from the path of righteousness, the more he goes astray, and is troubled, and approaches to the misery of the lost. Our rule of I life is the will of God, and therefore we say : ' ' Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven ;" desiring to become like the blessed spirits, and to have a share in their eternal happiness. We must take care, however, to pray thus to our Father not with our lips only, but from the depths of our hearts, and with fervent desire, and we must purify ourselves that we may be made holy, " For this is the will of God, our sanctification (1 Thess. iv. 3). To be holy we must keep all His command ments, and try to be conformed to His will both in prosperity and in adversity, saying like holy Job, " The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord !" (Job i. 21)- Give us This Day our Daily Bread. O my soul, as thou art of more value than the body, we must ask for thy food, namely the word of God and the body of Christ, before we ask for the food of the body. Not every one who reads or hears the word of God, or who re ceives the Body of Christ, takes these gifts from the hands of God. For those who learn or hear the Scrip tures merely for information, or to estab lish a reputation for knowledge of them, and not with a view to their own sanc tification and to the performance of good works, receive the bread of God's word from their own hands, and not from God's. Those likewise who approach the sacrament of the Eucharist in a state of sin do not receive the Bread of Heaven from God's hands. Let us there fore say to our heavenly Father, ' ' Give us this day our daily bread ; " give us Thy word that we may not faint by the way. May our Father feed and nourish us 472 THE LORD'S PRAYER. day by day, enlightening our hearts with divine love, that we may taste and see that the Lord is sweet (Ps. xxxiii. 9). Unless God giveth us light within, and enkindleth His love in our hearts, it is in vain that we take our bread, even the word of God and the Body of Christ. We call this our daily bread, and we must ask for it each day, because we ought to live on the word of God, day by day, and hour by hour, if it be pos sible, by means of reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation, "singing and making melody in our hearts to the Lord, giving thanks always for all things, in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ" (Eph. v. 19, 20). Attending Mass. Likewise we ought every day to re ceive the most holy bread of the Body of Christ, at least spiritually, by hear ing Mass devoutly and uniting ourselves, to the priest who celebrates it. More over we should often receive this mys tic bread sacramentally, according to the devotion of our hearts, and the ad vice of our spiritual father, as St. Aug ustine says : "I neither command nor forbid you to communicate daily, but I exhort you to communicate at least every Sunday.' ' It is God who gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater (2 Cor. ix. 10), and so it is from Him that we ought to hope for bread and other things needful to support our bodily life. We must ask Him for these things, but we must not ask or expect Him to give them to us to satisfy our pleasures or our sinful appetites. We must not ask for what is super fluous, but only for what is necessary, as our Saviour teaches us by using the word "bread," by which may be under stood what is necessary for each man according to his condition. No one may be idle, and the Apostle says : " If any man will not work, neither let him eat '' (2 Thess. iii. 10). We ask for our bread, not for that of another, for we must not be like thieves, but must earn it by our own toil, for it is written : "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread" (Gen. iii. 19). Over- Anxiety. The word daily is used because some are over-anxious about the morrow. We ask for bread day by day. We may ask for food and clothing ; but we must not trouble ourselves about a distant future, nor imagine all kinds of future accidents. Think of present necessities, and leave the rest to God, believing that He who feeds the fowls of the air, and clothes the lilies of the field, and the grass which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, will much more pro vide for us (Matt. vi. 26-30). God has the power in one moment to take away everything from us, as He made Job poor in one single hour, there fore let us say every day, ' ' Give us this day our daily bread, ' ' remembering that all the food and clothing which we use every day is given us by Him. This thought leads holy men and pious Christians to bless the table be fore they eat, saying : " The eyes of all hope in thee, O Lord, and thou givest them their meat in due season '' (Ps. cxliv. 15), or "Bless, O Lord, these Thy gifts, which of Thy bounty we are about to receive." And after dinner and sup per they give thanks for the favors they have received, and say : " We give THE LORD'S PRAYER. 473 Thee thanks," " Blessed be God in His gifts,'' or other similar words. And Forgive Us Our Trespasses, as we Forgive them that Trespass Against Us. In order to obtain remission of our sins, O my soul, two things are indis pensable, namely, grace and free will. If we wish to have the grace of God, we are certainly bound to do our part, and not ask forgiveness of our sins whilst we continue in them, for to act thus is to tempt God. We must bow down before God with contrite and humble hearts before we ask forgive ness of our sins. " Man knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred, but all things are kept uncertain for the time to come" (Ecclesiastes ix. I, 2), and for this reason each man ought to pray for his past sins, saying, " Forgive us our trespasses.'' We must, however, pray to God not only for our past sins, and for such as are mortal, but also for our present sins, and for such as are venial ; for in many things we all offend (St. James iii. 2). ' 'If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us " (1 John i. 8). Human nature is so frail that it is impossible for us to avoid falling into some venial sins. We should pray not only for the par don of our own sins, but also that others may be forgiven for their many sins. This is clearly our duty, for it is writ ten : "Pray one for another that you may be saved" (James v. 16). He who does or will not forgive small offences is unworthy to have great sins forgiven ; so if we wish to be heard, when we ut ter this prayer, we must first pardon our neighbors all their offences against us, and then we shall be able to say : "For give us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us." Our nature is so corrupt that it is im possible, O my soul, for anyone to avoid sin without the grace of God. Whoever has the desire to live, without sin must have constant recourse to God, and beg of Him such grace as will enable him to pass his life without the guilt of mortal sin. And we must remember that we cannot persevere in a state of grace without the special help of God, which we need in order to overcome the weakness of nature, and the daily difficulties of life. And Lead Us Not Into Temptation. We must, then, have recourse to God day by day by continual prayer, for though grace is given to many not all have the gift of perseverance. It is God who " worketh all in all " (1 Cor. xii. 6): Who upholdeth all things by the word of His power (Heb. i. 3) ; Who worketh in us both to will and to ac complish according to His good will (Phil. ii. 13) ; and in Him we live, and we move, and have our being (Acts xvii. 28). It is therefore impossible for us to do anything good, and far more impossible for us to continue in any good work without His special gift, because every best gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights (James i. 17). By means of constant prayer we ob tain these gifts and this perseverance, and this is why our Lord urges us to be instant and even importunate in prayer, for we ' ' ought always to pray and not to faint" (Lukexviii. 1). 474 THE LORD'S PRAYER. The flesh, the world, and the devil assail us on all sides. The flesh is an enemy that is on intimate terms with us, ever near us, and ready to flatter us. The world is a deceitful and treacher ous foe, and the devil is cruel, strong, cunning, and full of crafty devices, so the utmost caution is necessary. Our wisdom will not suffice to save us, nor our own strength, so we must beg God to help us, crying out continually, " Lead us not into temptation." But Deliver Us from Evil. We acknowledge that, surrounded by many and powerful enemies, we are too weak to resist temptation, and there fore we pray Thee, O Lord, as Thou hast created all things by Thy word, and art Almighty — "Lead us not into temptation " — abandon us not, for to be abandoned by Thee is to be led into temptation. If thou abandonest us, we fall at once into sin. Suffer us not, therefore, O Lord, to yield to evil, that is to say, to sin, for Thou savest them that trust in Thee. My soul, the Apostle warns us that "All who will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution'' (2 Tim- iii. 12), and we know that "through many tribulations we must enter into the Kingdom of God" (Acts xiv. 21). Our weakness, however, is so great that we easily fall away in time of tribula tion unless God's hand holds us up, and so a just man will acknowledge his frailty and ask to be delivered from it. Wherefore the prophet says: Deliver me from my necessities (Ps. xxiv. 17), that is to say, from the tribulations which are necessary for me. In like manner we pray to be delivered from evil, that is from trials and adversities, that none may come upon us too great for us to bear. We also pray that in trials that we can bear by Thy grace, Thou wouldst deliver us by comforting and strengthening us with spiritual graces to bear our crosses well for the increase of virtue. We also pray by these words that after the storm there may be a great calm- Make, we beseech Thee, our tribula tions to work together unto good that Thou mayst appear always glorious amongst Thy saints, whom, when they have been tried, Thou dost crown in heaven, where they dwell with Thee forever. Amen. Through Jesus Christ Our Lord. In the Third Lamentation of Jeremias the Prophet, O my soul our Saviour calls upon men to meditate upon His Passion, saying : " Remember my pov erty and transgression, the wormwood and the gall." A Collection of Catholic Verse. New Prince, New Pomp. Behold a little tender Babe, In freezing winter night, In lonely manger trembling lies, Alas ! a piteous sight ! The inns are full, no man will yield This little pilgrim bed ; But forced He is with lowly beasts In crib to shroud His head. Despise Him not for lying there ; First what He is inquire : An orient pearl is often found In depth of dirty mire. Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish, Nor beasts that by Him feed ; Weigh not His Mother's poor attire, Nor Joseph's simple weed. This stable is a Prince's court, This crib His chair of state ; The beasts are parcel of His pomp, The wooden dish His plate. The persons in that poor attire, His royal liveries wear ; The Prince himself is come from heaven, This pomp is prized there. With joy approach, O Christian wight Do homage to thy King ; And highly praise this humble pomp Which he from Heaven doth bring. Robert Southwell, S. J. Christmastide. Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine ; Love was born at Christmas, Star and angels gave the sign. Worship we the Godhead, Love Incarnate, Love Divine ; Worship we our Jesus : But wherewith for sacred sign ? Love shall be our token, Love be yours and love be mine, Love to God and all men, Love for plea and gift and sign. Christina G. Rossetti. At Bethlehem. In what low estate Lies the God of all ! Cattle in their stall Round about Him wait, And His sweet Mother. Who are these, that come, Kneel, and bow the head, Round His rude bed ? Earth or heaven their home ? Say, sweet Mother. Child or angel ? Who On this blessed night Is it, till the light Should watch with you Quietly, sweet Mother ? What is left unsaid, Ask not. Spirits pure Only may endure Watch at this Child's bed, With His sweet Mother. Grant us, Child, Thy grace, With child's or angel's heart, Here to do our part. Grant us here a place With Thy sweet Mother ! Selwyn Image. 475 476 A COLLECTION LOF CATHOLIC VERSE. A Christmas Thought. Christ, who a man wert born, Enduring shame and scorn, And died upon the Tree For me, and such as me- How strange it seems that I — Watching these embers die, While, outside, fog and sleet Fill all the dreary street — That I to comfort cling While Thou, my God and King, Couldst only lay Thine head In a poor cattle-shed. Give me more self-denial How sharp so-e'er the trial ; All that I count as mine Is Thine, and only Thine. Let me not please myself, Sit loose to ease and pelf, Taste only pleasure's cup As glad to give it up. I hold my life in fee, O Christ my Lord, for Thee ; Take it, when, how, thou wilt, Whose blood for me was spilt. In cradle and on cross — Mine the gain, Thine the loss — I find love's miracle That frees my soul from hell. Make me Thine, only Thine ; Be mine, nor only mine, We need Thee, one and all. Christ ! hear us when we call. C. Kegan Paul. Christmas Eve. Christmas hath a darkness Brighter than the blazing noon ; Christmas hath a warmness Warmer than the heat of June ; Christmas hath a beauty Lovelier than the world can show ; For Christmas bringeth Jesus, Brought for us so low. Earth, strike up your music, Birds that sing and bells that ring ; Heaven hath answering music For all angels soon to sing : Earth put on your whitest Bridal robe of spotless snow ; For Christmas bringeth Jesus, Brought for us so low. Christina G. Rossetti. Christmas Day. A baby is a harmless thing And wins our hearts with one accord, And flower of babies was their King, Jesus Christ our Lord : Lily of lilies He Upon His Mother's knee : Rose of roses soon to be Crowned with thorns on leafless tree. A lamb is innocent and mild, And merry on the soft green sod ; And Jesus Christ, the undefiled, Is the Lamb of God : Only spotless He Upon His Mother's knee ; White and ruddy, soon to be Sacrificed for you and me. Nay, lamb is not so sweet a word, Nor lily half so pure a name ; Another name our hearts hath stirred, Kindling them to flame : "Jesus" certainly Is music and melody : Heart with heart in harmony, Carol we and worship we. Christina G. Rossetti. A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. 477 The Three Kings. Three Kings were led by God's own hand With guiding star from Eastern land, To Jesus through Jerusalem, Unto the stall in Bethlehem. God, to that Infant bring to us too, That we may be His servants true. Bright shone the star on all around, Within it sat a Baby crowned ; A golden Cross His sceptre seemed, His Head with more than sunlight beamed. God, from Thy throne in heaven afar, Lighten the world with that same star- Not from one fleeting hour's delay Could Herod check them on their way ; They left the palace far behind, And hastened on the stall to find. God, grant us that good path to tread, Ere we be numbered with the dead. When to the manger came the three, They fell in worship on the knee ; Then to the Christ their gifts unfold, The myrrh, the frankincense, the gold. God, take our gifts in Jesu's name, Heart, body, soul, wealth, blood, and fame. The Virgin greeted well her guests, And laid her Baby on their breasts ; Him thenceforth in their hearts they bore, And sought no other treasure more. God, Father, who in heaven art, Lay Christ for ever in our heart. Then with that guerdon well content, Rejoicing to their home they went ; That Infant sweet their one reward, The angel host their loving guard. God, when our last long road we take, Grant us the like for Jesu's sake. From the German. As Joseph was a- Walking. As Joseph was a-walking He heard an angel sing, " This night shall be the birth-night Of Christ our heavenly King. " He neither shall be born In palace nor in hall, Nor in the place of Paradise, But in an ox's stall. " He neither shall be clothed In purple nor in pall, But in the fair white linen That usen babies all. " He neither shall be rocked In silver nor in gold, But in a wooden cradle That rests upon the mold. " He neither shall be christened In milk nor in wine : But in the pure well water That springs in Bethine." As Joseph was a-walking, Thus did an angel sing ; That very night in Bethlem, Was born our Lord and King. Then be ye glad, ye people, This night of all the year ; And light ye up your candles, For His star it shineth near. Old Carol. A Christmas Prayer. O little Child, upon whose brow Creation's crown of crowns shall be ; O God, who wearest manhood now, Thy Church is glad because of Thee- Smile on us, Holy One, who bow Before Thy great humility ; And let our homage be the vow To live and die, dear Lord, in Thee. Emily Hickcy. 478 A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. From the East. They leave the land of gems and gold, The shining portals of the East ; For Him, the Woman's Seed foretold, They leave the revel and the feast. To earth their sceptres they have cast, And crowns by kings ancestral worn ; They track the lonely Syrian waste ; They kneel before the Babe new-born. O happy eyes that saw Him first ! O happy lips that kissed His feet ! Earth slakes at last her ancient thirst ; With Eden's joy our pulses beat. True Kings are those who thus forsake Their kingdoms for the Eternal King. Serpent, her foot is on thy neck ! Herod, thou smitest, but canst not sing! He, He is King, and He alone, Who lifts that infant hand to bless ; Who makes His Mother's knee His throne, Yet rules the starry wilderness. Aubrey de Vere. The Christmas Bird. The fold at midnight Was light as the noon, And in a tree a birdie bright Sang still the gladdest tune. With wings of gold sheen, And gold head and hood, He was the fairest bird, I ween, That ever sung in wood. He sang sweet and low, He sang loud and shrill ; Above the stable in the snow The Star stood still. The shepherd swains said then — Each fell on his knee — That was the very sweetest strain Was ever sung in tree. Are many birds in bower, With many in dulcet song : But none like him who sang that hour The Christmas boughs among. Katharine Tynan. A Cradle Song. Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber, Holy angels guard thy bed, Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe ; thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide ; Here without thy care or payment All thy wants are well supplied. How much better thou'rt attended Than the son of God could be, When from heaven he descended And became a child like thee ! Soft and easy is thy cradle ; Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay : When His birth-place was a stable, And his softest bed was hay. See the kinder shepherds round Him, Telling wonders from the sky ! Where they sought Him, there they found Him, With the Virgin- Mother by. See the lovely Babe a-dressing ; Lovely Infant, how He smiled ! When He wept, the Mother's blessing Soothed and hush'd the holy Child. Lo, He slumbers in His manger, Where the horned oxen fed ; Peace, my darling, here's no danger ; Here's no ox a-near Thy bed ! Mayest thou live to know and fear Him, Trust and love Him all thy days ; Then go dwell for ever near Him, See His face and sing His praise. Isaac Watts. A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. 479 The Watch by Night. While shepherds watch their flocks by night ; All seated on the ground, The Angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around. " Fear not," said He ; for mighty dread Had seized their troubled mind ; " Glad tidings of great joy I bring, To you and all mankind. " To you in David's town this day Is born of David's line, A Saviour which is Christ the Lord, And this shall be the sign : ' ' The heavenly Babe you there shall find To human view displayed, All meanly wrapped in swaddling-clothes And in a manger laid." Thus spake the seraph, and forth-with Appeared a shining throng Of angels praising God, who thus Addressed their joyful song : " All glory be to God on high, And in the earth be peace ; Good- will henceforth from heaven to men Begin, and never cease." N. Tate. A Child My Choice. LET folly praise that fancy loves, I praise and love that Child Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, Whose head no deed defiled. I praise Him most, I love Him best, All praise and love is His ; While Him I love, in Him I live, And cannot live amiss. Love's sweetest mark, laud's highest Man's most desired light, [theme, To love Him, life ; to leave Him, death; To live in Him, delight. He mine by gift, I His by debt, Thus each to other due, First friend He was, best friend He is, All times will try Him true. Though young, yet wise ; though small, yet strong ; Though man, yet God He is ; As wise He knows, as strong He can, As God He loves to bless. His knowledge rules, His strength His love doth cherish all ; [defends, His birth our joy, His life our light, His death our end of thrall. Alas ! He weeps, He sighs, He pants, Yet do His angels sing ; Out of His tears, His sighs and throbs Doth bud a joyful spring. Almighty Babe, whose tender arms Can force all foes to fly, Correct my faults, protect my life, Direct me when I die ! Robert Southwell, S. J. Benedicite ! When Jesus was a little child, He slept on Mary's knee and smiled, She rocked Him on her knee. (So pray you hearken, gentles all, And give us cheer in house and hall) She rocked Him on her knee. "Noel, Noel," the angels sung, The dumb beasts spake in unknown For Benedicite ! [tongue (So pray you hearken, gentles all, And give us cheer in house and hall) For Benedicite ! The shepherd's flutes gave merry sound ; With hollies green they strewed the For joy the Christ to see ; [ground, (So pray you hearken, gentles all, And give us cheer in house and hall) For joy the Christ to see. Lady Lindsay. 480 A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. The Shepherds' Song. DEEP, deep snow ; Wild, wild wind ; Dark, dark night ; and lo ! Where shall we shepherds go, God's Son to find ? See, shepherds, see ! O'er Bethlehem town What may this glory be ? Faint not, but hasten ye ; Thither go down. Hark ! what sound O'er yonder shed ? Gloria I the Lord is found In swaddling clothes all bound, As Gabriel said. Bend knees and fall ; Here is God's Son, Here is the cattle-stall : Ave ! say we, great and small, Death's day is done ! Selwyn Image. Like a meteor, large and bright, Fell a golden seed of light On the field of Christmas night When the Babe was born. Then was sepulchred in gloom Till above His holy tomb Flashed its everlasting bloom — Flower of Easter morn. John B. Tabb. A Christmas Wish. Lord, in my heart a little child, Now that the snows beat far and wide, While ever wails the tempest wild, Good Lord, abide. Nor go Thou if the summer comes, Nor if the summer days depart ; But chiefly make Thy home of homes, Lord, in my heart. Herbert P. Home. Jesus Redemptor. Jesus, Redeemer blest of man, Thou whom, before the light began, The supreme Father did beget, His equal in His glory set ; The Father's Splendor and His Light, The world's one Hope and infinite, Accept, O Lord, Thy servants' prayer, Potired out before Thee everywhere. Maker of all, whom heretofore In hallowed womb a Virgin bore, Remember how Thou tookest then The likeness of the sons of men. To this the Day its witness bears, Through circle of the year declares Thou from the Father's breast, Thy home, Salvation of the world, art come- From stars and earth and ocean rise, From all that is beneath the skies, New songs to greet with homage due The Author of Salvation new. And we, endued with grace divine, Sprinkled with holy Blood of Thine, The tribute of our hymn will pay In honor of Thy birth to-day. O, Jesus, whom the Virgin bore, Glory to Thee for evermore, With Thee, O Father, and with Thee, Spirit of grace, eternally. Amen. Emily Hickey, from the Latin. O Blessed Eyes. O BLESSED eyes, that saw Him come The promised One; [at last, O happy arms that held enfolded fast The Eternal Son : O heart that stored the memories of So sweet and stern ; [that night Teach me to ponder Bethlehem aright, To look and learn ! Mother M. Loyola. A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. 481 Welcome, all Wonders. Welcome, all wonders in one sight ! Eternity shut in a span ! Summer in winter, day in night ! Heaven in earth, and God in Man ! Great Little One ! whose lowly birth Lifts earth to Heav'n, stoops Heav' n to earth! To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King Of simple graces and sweet loves, Each one of us his lamb will bring, And each his pair of silver doves : Till burnt in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselves become our sacrifice ! Richard Crashaw. "I Am a Babe, Fear Not." By Bethlehem once a dread came o'er My heart, a little stable near ; Methought I heard a voice that cried, " I am a babe, so do not fear." But still I feared, for voices then Of spirits singing I could hear ; While ever seemed that one to cry, " I am a babe, so do not fear." And then there was a wondrous star, A star quite strange and bright and clear, And still within my heart was heard, " I am a babe, so do not fear." I looked within the little hut, And there beheld a babe more dear Than I had ever dreamed. It said, " I am a babe, so do not fear." It did not speak indeed, but said, " Come nearer with thy love to cheer ; Why kneelest thou so far away ? I am a babe ; what dost thou fear ? ' ' I come to die for love of thee ; A cruel cross shall be my bier ; 31-C F Vol. 2 For thee shall all my blood be shed ; I am a babe, so do not fear." "Afraid of Thee, dear Lord ?" I cried ; " I dread Thee not, but must revere." Yet ever spoke that inward voice, " I am a babe, so do not fear." And then I went so near, I dropped Upon those tiny hands a tear. Then dawned on me a smile that said, " I am a babe, thou dost not fear." Thus, day by day, His gracious calls Like voices from the crib appear ; And when I fail, I hear again, " I am a babe, so do not fear." Bishop Amherst. Carol. Say, what saw you, Man ? And say, what heard ? " I saw, while Angels sang, Jesus, the Word." Say you aught else, Man ? Aught else heard you ? " I saw the Son of Man, And the wind blew." Saw you beside, Man ? Or heard beside ? ' ' I saw, while murderers mocked, The Crucified." Nay, what is this, Man ? And who is He ? "The Holy Child must die For you and me." O say, Brother ! O say, Brother ! What then shall be ? " Home in His Sacred Heart For you and me." O what can we give, Brother ! For such a thing ? " Body and soul, Brother ! To Christ the King." Lionel Johnson. 482 A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. Once in the Winter Cold. Once in the winter cold, when earth Was desolate and wild, The angels welcomed at His birth The everlasting Child. From realms of ever-brightening day, And from His throne above, He came with humankind to stay, All lowliness and love. Then, in the manger poor, the beast Was present with his Lord ; [East Then swains and pilgrims from the Saw, wondered, and adored. And I this morn would come with them This blessed sight to see ; And to the Babe of Bethlehem Bend low the reverent knee. But I have not — it makes me sigh — One offering in my power ; 'Tis winter all with me, and I Have neither fruit nor flower. O God, O Brother, let me give My worthless self to Thee ! And grant the years which I may live May pure and spotless be. Grant me Thyself, O Saviour kind, Thy Spirit undefiled, That I may be in heart and mind As gentle as a child : That I may tread life's arduous ways As Thou Thyself hast trod, And in the might of prayer and praise Keep ever close to God. Light of the everlasting morn, Deep through my spirit shine : There let Thy presence newly-born Make all my being Thine : There try me as the silver, try And cleanse my soul with care, Till Thou art able to decry Thy faultless Image there. Rev. C. J. Black. Christians, Carol Sweetly. Christians, carol sweetly, Up to-day and sing ! 'Tis the happy birthday Of our holy King : Haste we then to greet Him, Humbly falling down, While our hands entwine Him, Dearest Babe, a crown. Crowds of snow-white angels Throng the golden stair ; All things are delightful, All things passing fair : Bells, clear music making, Peal the news to earth ; Chimes within make answer, All is glee and mirth. Michael at the manger Bows his royal face ; Gabriel with lily Hides transcendent grace : For, dear friends, the glory Of that lowly bed, Overpowers the beauty On Archangels shed. Shall I tell of Joseph, Who, with rapt surprise, Sees the light from Godhead Fill those infant eyes ? Shall I sing of Mary, Who, upon her breast Cradles her Creator, Soothes Him to His rest ? Angels, Mary, Joseph, Yes, I greet you all ! Falling down in worship At the manger stall ! For we hail our Monarch, Born a Child to-day, So, with you I worship, And my homage pay. W. Chatterton Dix. A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. 483 The Shepherds. The shepherds keep their flocks by night ; The heaven glows out with wondrous light; The glory of the Lord is there, The Angel-bands their King declare : The watchers of the night confessed "God of our Fathers! Thou art blessed !" The Angel ceased ; and suddenly Seraphic legions filled the sky : "Glory to God !" they cry again, " Peace on earth, good will to men : Christ comes !" — And they that heard confessed, "God of our Fathers! Thou art blessed !" What said the shepherds ? Let us turn This new-born miracle to learn." To Bethlehem's gate their footsteps drew ; The Mother and the Child they view : They knelt and worshipped, and con fessed, "God of our Fathers! Thou art blessed !" St. Cosmas, translated by J. M. Neale. The Children's Christmas. O LITTLE folk of Christendom, Your little Lord to you has come. To Blessed Mary's breast He clings, Most helpless of created things. Although the mighty God is He, Whose love has bid the worlds to be. His darling Hands are weak and small ; But in those Hands He holds you all. He loves you more than tongue can tell, This little Babe, Emmanuel. What will you bring that's dear and sweet, To lay before His darling Feet ? Bring Him the gift He holds above All else in worth, His children's love. Emily Hickey The Star Song. Tell us, thou clear and heavenly tongue, Where is the Babe but lately sprung ? Lies He the lily-banks among ? Or say, if this new Birth of ours Sleeps, laid within some ark of flowers, Spangled with dew-light; thou can'st clear All doubts, and manifest the where. Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek Him in the morning's blushing cheek, Or search the bed of spices through To find Him out ? Star. No, this ye need not do ; But only come and see Him rest, A princely Babe, in 's Mother's breast. Chorus. He's seen ! He's seen ! Why, then, around ! Let's kiss the sweet and holy ground, And all rejoice that we have found A King before conception crowned. Come then, come then, and let us. bring Unto our pretty Twelfth-tide King, Each one his several offering ; Chorus. And when night comes we'll give Him wassailing ; And that His treble honors may be seen, We'll choose Him King, and make His Mother Queen. Robert Herrick. 484 A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. Midnight Mass. This is the birthday of God's child : For He was once a child, Born for our sake in snow-roofed cave One winter midnight wild ; Whilst angels chanted from the skies (Are these their voices still ?) " Glory on high to God and peace To mortals of good will." To-day that Child is born again, The midnight Mass had sped, And Jesus steals in meaner guise Our souls more close to wed. I scarce may envy her who clasped The Infant to her breast, Since He, the Babe of Christmas comes, In this poor heart to rest. Rev. Matthew Russell, S. J. Sing Bethlehem! Sing Bethlehem ! Sing Bethlehem ! You daughters of Jerusalem ! Keep sorrow for Gethsemani, And mourning for Mount Calvary ! Why are your lids and lashes wet ? Here is no darkening Olivet. Sing Bethlehem ! Sing Bethlehem ! You daughters of Jerusalem ! How should we sing of Bethlehem ! We, daughters of Jerusalem ? We are the people of the Jews : Our balms would soothe Him not, but bruise. Ah, Calvary ! Ah, Calvary ! We wretched women cry to thee : We, daughters of Jerusalem; And enemies of Bethlehem. With faces cast upon the dust, We weep these things, which do we must ; Our tears embitter Calvary, And water thee, Gethsemani ! Sing Bethlehem ! Sing Bethlehem ! Poor daughters of Jerusalem ! You know not what you do : but He Will pardon you on Calvary. Lionel Johnson. Old Carol. The Holly and the Ivy, Now both are full well grown ; Of all the trees that are in the wood The Holly bears the crown. The Holly bears a blossom, As white as lily-flower ; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ To be our sweet Saviour. The Holly bears a berry, As red as any blood ; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ To do poor sinners good. The Holly bears a prickle, As sharp as any thorn ; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ On Christmas Day in the morn. The Holly bears a bark, As bitter as any gall ; And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ For to redeem us all. The Holly and the Ivy, Now both are full well grown ; Of all the trees that are in the wood The Holly bears the crown. In Mary's Lap. The Mercy-seat was Mary's lap, Her arms its guardian cherubim, O happy birth for sin's mishap ! The Mercy-seat was Mary's lap, With swaddling clothes, for clouds to wrap The Presence, little limb by limb ; The Mercy-seat was Mary's lap, Her arms its guardian cherubim. Rev. John Fitzpatrick, O. M. I. A COLLECTION OF CATHOLIC VERSE. 485 To His Saviour, a Child. A PRESENT BY A CHILD. Go, pretty child, and bear this flower Unto thy little Saviour ; And tell Him, by that bud now blown, He is the Rose of Sharon known. When thou hast said so, stick it there Upon His bib or stomacher ; And tell Him, for good handsel too, That thou hast bought a whistle new, Made of a clean, strait oaten reed, To charm His cries at time of need. Tell Him, for coral thou hast none, But if thou hadst, He should have one ; But poor thou art, and known to be Even as moneyless as He. Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss From those mellifluous lips of His, Then never take a second on, To spoil the first impression. Robert Herrick. "The Christ Child." The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, His hair was like a light. (O weary, weary, was the world, But here is all aright.) The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast, His hair was like a star. (O stern and cunning are the kings, But here the true hearts are.) The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart, His hair was like a fire, (O weary, weary, is the world, But here the world's desire.) The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee, His hair was like a crown, And all the flowers looked up at Him, And all the stars looked down. Gilbert K. Chesterton. A Great and Mighty Wonder. A GREAT and mighty wonder, The festal makes secure : The Virgin bears the infant With virgin-honor pure. The word becomes incarnate And yet remains on high : And cherubim sing anthems, To shepherds, from the sky ; And we with them triumphant Repeat the hymn again : " To God on high be glory, And peace on earth to men !" While thus they sing yon Monarch Those bright angelic bands, Rejoice, ye vales and mountains ! Ye oceans, clap your hands ! Since all He comes to ransom, By all be He adored, The Infant born in Bethlehem, The Saviour and the Lord ! And idol forms shall perish, And error shall decay, And Christ shall wield His sceptre, Our Lord and God for aye. J. M. Neal {from the Greek). jesus Christ Our King. BY RICHARD E. CLARKE, S. J. UR King is Jesus Christ, God and Man. The name Jesus indicates His Divine nature. For Jesus means Saviour ("Thou shalt call His name Jesus ; for He shall save His people from their sins ' ' — Matt. i. 20.) Now from our sins none can save us save One who is Him self God ; none else can pay the debt due for man's sin. Hence He who is our King is also our Saviour ; and He who is our Saviour must be God, the God of infinite Majesty, infinite power, and infinite knowledge. This is why before the name of Jesus every knee must bow ; because the name of Jesus is the name of God. If men glory in having a noble King, how much more ought we to re joice in having as our King the Omnipo tent God and Lord of Heaven and earth. The second name of our King, Christ, indicates His human nature. For Christ means anointed, and it was not possible for God as God to receive that sacred anointing of the Holy Spirit which our King claims for Himself in the syna gogue of Nazareth (Luke iv. 18.) He could only be anointed with the gifts of the Holy Spirit as a man. As man, our King shares our human nature ; He is bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh : 486 He does not disdain to call us His brethren. He puts Himself on a level with us ; knows by His own experience all our difficulties and troubles ; and loves us with a true human brotherly love. How happy are we to have a King who will never misjudge or misunderstand us, but has a perfect sympathy and com passion for all our miseries. Our King is Jesus Christ, and there fore at the same time God and Man. This union of the Infinite and the Finite surpasses our comprehension. We can only adore. Jesus Christ, as God, has an absolute right to our unfailing and universal obedience. He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and every created being in Heaven and on earth is bound to carry out His Divine will in all things. We owe Him homage and adoration as the continual and increasing tribute that He has a right to in virtue of His supreme Majesty. He is the Lord our God, and we are His servants, His hand maidens, the sheep of His pasture. Re joice in being subject to such a King, adore His Majesty, and fall down at His feet and promise Him obedience in every detail of your life. Jesus Christ has also an unlimited claim on us as our Creator. " By Him all things were made." Now creation gives the most perfect title to ownership that exists ; nothing is so completely JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 487 ours as that which we in some sense create. Hence we belong entirely to our King. We are His absolute property and possession. We have no rights of our own in opposition to His. His rights over us, over all that we call ours, over our body and our soul, are all- embracing. We shall therefore, if we are wise, put ourselves and all our faculties, especially our will, for Him to do with us as He pleases. Jesus Christ is also our King as being the heir of the Eternal Father. God has appointed Him, says St. Paul (Heb. i. 2,) heir of all things. He has the right of inheritance, Man though he is, to all the glory and all the dominion of the Eternal Father. He entered on His inheritance when He trampled on sin and on death. No wonder, then, that St. Paul says, " All things are ours ; and we are Christ's and Christ is God's." We inherit God's good things as subjects of Christ our King. Our King's Claims to Sovereignty. Jesus Christ has also received the sovereignty of the world, not merely by way of inheritance, but as having had it entrusted to Him by His Eternal Father, and placed in His hands with full authority to wield it. ' ' The Father loveth the Son, and has given all things into His hand," are the words of our Lord Himself; "Thou hast set Him over the works of Thy hands ; thou hast subjected all things under His feet," are the words of the Psalmist referring to our Lord. I therefore am in the hands of Jesus Christ ; how happy should I be to have so good a Master. Our King is also King by conquest ; He has fought and vanquished the foe who had gained possession of the King's territory, the Prince of this world, whom our King utterly routed by His Passion and Death. He has trampled him under His feet, and the regions he had usurped have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ. Hence forth we have no reason to fear the usurper and all his supporters. We have only to meet them boldly in the Name of our King, and they will fly in terror. Further Claims of our King. Our King also holds His Kingdom as the very excellence of one whose nature gives Him a right to rule. His place among the sons of men is connaturally that of their King ; He is of necessity supreme over them, " inasmuch as He has inherited a more excellent name than they." He rises above all man. kind not merely as a giant among pigmies, but as a mountain among the grains of sand which make up the dust of the plains. Admire the connatural dignity and majesty of Christ our King. Jesus Christ is our King and Lord, and we are His subjects, nay, we belong to Him as His property and possession because He has purchased us with a great price. The price He has paid is no gold or earthly treasure. It is nothing less than His own precious blood, of which He shed the last drop upon the Cross as the price of our redemption. Each drop of that blood had a greater value than all things that are in Heaven and on earth ; yet our King gave it all, and at the cost of pain and anguish unspeak able, that we poor miserable wretches might be His loyal servants, instead of the slaves of the devil. Hence we be long entirely to Him, and absolute, complete submission is our duty and our privilege. 488 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. Our King also has dominion over us as members of His mystical Body, the Church which He has founded, and which He has joined to Himself as His mystical Spouse. Inasmuch, then, as we belong to the Church, we claim Him as our Sovereign, and we also share in all the gifts and all the privileges that He has communicated to His holy Spouse. As the Church obeys Him, so ought we to do ; as she can never be un faithful to Him in the very smallest detail, so ought our devotion to enter into every action. Our King also rules over us by our free choice. We chose Him at our Baptism by the voice of our Sponsors ; we chose Him at our Confirmation by our own free will ; we choose Him afresh each prayer we offer, each hymn we utter in His honor, each aspiration we make to Him to guide and help us, each time we cry out to Him, My Lord and My God ! Once again, O Christ my Lord, I freely choose Thee as the King to rule my heart, my will, my intellect, my whole self. The Nature of His Kingdom. The Kingdom of our King is no earthly Kingdom. This was the mistake made by Herod ; he thought the new born King was come to wrest from him his sceptre as King of Judea. Our Lord Himself expressly declared, " My King dom is not of this world." All worldly ambition is therefore not only out of place in the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, but is directly at variance with its spirit. Do not I too often set my heart on earthly things, and make them the ob jects of my ambition, instead of those things that belong to the Kingdom of my King and will find favor with Him ? The Kingdom of our King is a Heavenly Kingdom. He Himself speaks of it as the Kingdom of Heaven. He brought it down with Him from Heaven to earth, in order to found it among men. It was founded on earth, in order to provide fresh members for it, as it exists and will exist to all eternity, in Heaven. All those who belong to it must have their hearts set on Heaven. They must seek those things that are above. They must do their best to con form themselves to the Kingdom of Christ as it exists in Heaven. My God ! grant that I may be one of the loyal members of Thy Kingdom on earth, that so I may deserve to be joined to its happy company in Heaven. The King's Service. The Kingdom of Jesus Christ is the Kingdom of truth. He tells us that the object of His coming into the world was to give testimony to the truth. The Kingdom of our King must be the home of perfect truth. No lie can enter into it ; no error can be incorporated with its teaching. He who loves the truth is attracted towards the true Catholic Church ; he who hates it hates also the Church of Christ. In our last meditation we saw that we enrol ourselves in the service of our King at our Baptism, our Confirmation, whenever we offer ourselves to God. What is the nature of that service ? It is a service obligatory on all. Every rational being born into the world is bound to join it, and that under the severest penalties. This follows from our relation to our King as our Creator and our God. Whether we acknowledge the obligation or not, it continually is present to us, and embraces our whole JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 489 life, and that whatever be the religion we profess. No human being is exempt from the service of his Creator. Do I recognize this relation, and do I rejoice ink? The service of the King, though obligatory, is not compulsory. We can hold aloof from Him, and serve other masters, if we choose. He does not force the free will of any of his subjects. Man's perverse will can, if he chooses, set itself in opposition to the will of God, and can so remain to all eternity. It is in the hands of each individual man to enlist in his King's service or not. How have I used my liberty ? To attach myself to my King in willing subjection, or to stand aloof from His service ? Our King's Enemies. Yet we must join some service. If we do not serve our King, we shall of necessity fall under the dominion of some other master. Independence is impossible to any created being, how ever much he may desire it. To shirk the service of the King is to sink into some form of vile and disgraceful servi tude. It is only in His service that true liberty can be founds Do I realize and act on this ? Our King, in spite of His Divine per fections, in spite of His power, His claims to rule, and His unspeakable goodness and love, has nevertheless many and irreconcileable enemies. His first enemy is the devil, or rather the innumerable company of devils who make it their one object to insult and outrage Him with insatiable fierceness and hatred. They spare no pains, they neglect no means within their reach, to carry on a deadly war against Him and His soldiers. Nothing can satisfy their malice and their fury . Their one object is to destroy the happiness and ruin the souls of all those who are stamped with the image of our King. How is it that, knowing this, I so often listen to their suggestions ? His second enemy is the world around us, which is based on principles opposed to those by which our King desires that we should be guided. It is actuated by a covert selfishness, by self-love, by earthly ambition, by a desire to be highly esteemed by others, by the greed of gain. It seeks to explain away the precepts of our King, and it despises His counsels- It puts Him, as far as possible, into the background or out of sight. Do I not too often act on these worldly principles ? His third enemy is our own nature. tainted as it is with sin. Self-will is strong within us, defying God. Con cupiscence bribes us by the promise of pleasures which will make us enemies of our King, or at least will weaken our fidelity to Him. Pride eggs us on to actual rebellion, in matters great or small. Do I fight manfully against these enemies of my King ? His Soldier's Armor. To the soldiers of our King the shield of Faith is indispensable. Without Faith it is impossible to please God, and without Faith no one can be a true soldier of Jesus Christ. It is the Faith of the Christian that overcomes the world and puts the devil to flight. The Faith of the martyrs won them their crown ; the faith of confessors enables tlxem to work miracles ; it is their Faith which is dear to every true Catholic beyond all else. And this Faith must be a living Faith, if it is to avail us against the foe. It 490 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. must be actuated by charity ; it must comprise firm confidence in God and dependence on Him. With such a Faith we are secure against all the assaults of the King's enemies. The Christian soldier must also have the sword of the Spirit, which is the " Word of God," and which consists in obedience to all those holy inspirations that God puts into our minds, and all the holy lessons that we learn from Holy Scripture, the sermons we hear, the pious books we read, and the example of others. These holy inspirations are chiefly gained in prayer, and without prayer we shall never be safe. Without prayer we never shall be able to put the devil to flight, and to withstand the se ductive influence of the world, and the temptations of the flesh. Ways and Means. The Christian soldier must also be clothed with the corselet of justice. Justice is the virtue which makes us give to each his due, and primarily which makes us give God His due. To God we owe everything we have ; noth ing is really our own. Yet how grudging we are in giving to God His due in our worship, in our alms, in our remembrance of Him, and our depen dence upon Him. During the time of our warfare on earth we are surrounded with a number of persons and things, all of which are intended by our King to be means of gaining a complete victory over our enemies, and of rendering to Him the tribute of our faithful service. All our relations and friends, all those who love us and set us a good example, all who call forth our charity, or our zeal, or our devotion to our King, are in His design meant to further our welfare. And not these only, but also all those who cause us sorrow and pain, those who treat us unkindly, those who misun derstand us, all will help us in our war fare, if we try and use them as we know our King would desire. All the circumstances of our life are also means provided by our King to pro mote our own happiness, and our suc cess in His service, whether we have prosperity or adversity, whether we suc ceed or fail in our undertakings, whether we have good health or frequent sick ness, whether we have great talents or are wanting in ability. All is intended as a means to help us in our warfare. How far do I seek to turn all the cir cumstances of my life to my own ad vantage in life's warfare : We may go still further, and say that all our personal defects, our tempta tions, our evil tendencies, our frailties, our imperfections, are, in our King's design, intended for our good. Even our past offences, grievous though they may have been, and in themselves simply evil, yet through the mercy of our King may be turned to good, as was the case with many saints who had been great sinners. Do I thus avail myself of all my environment in the battle of life? Rebellion Against our King. What do we mean by rebellion ? We mean refusal to submit to the lawful authority of the King to whose dominion the rebel is subject ; it involves a desire, actual or virtual, to shake off his yoke, and even to dethrone him if opportunity offers. Let us see how this applies to those who are rebels against Jesus Christ our King. JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 491 The rebellion of man was not the first instance of rebellion that the uni verse had witnessed. Previously a vast number of beings far superior to him had declared open revolt. They were conscious of their own excellence and dignity, and began to esteem themselves by reason of it, forgetting that they had received it all from God. And when He required of them that they should adore, they rose in rebellion, and refused to obey. Every act of wilful disobedience of which I am guilty is therefore some approach to the sin that consigned the devils to hell. The True Nature of Rebellion. Why was this sin so grievous, so un pardonable? It was because of the wonderful graces and gifts God had be stowed upon them, because of the very nobility of their nature. It was also be cause it was a sin, not of weakness, but of malice, pure and simple. There was nothing to be gained by it, except an imagined liberty. It was the pure crav ing of self-will for indulgence. Is not this the character of many of my offences, which thus make me like to the devils ? Did God forgive the angels who re belled ? Had they a chance of retrieving themselves ? No, not one. They were cast down for ever into hell. Hence if God has forgiven my offences against my King, it is owing simply to His gra tuitous mercy and love. Rebellion consists in any wilful dis obedience to the express commands of our King in order to gratify our own will, or promote what seems to us to be our interest. Let us see what such dis obedience involves. It involves a preference of ourselves to God our King, of our supposed ad vantage to His glory. It thus reverses the order of Divine Providence. The disobedient man places himself, so to speak, above his King, and instead of serving his King, seeks to make his King serve him. He who is Lord ol Heaven and earth is set aside for a miserable worm of earth, made of the dust of the ground, who is of no account and nothing. What insolence could be greater than this ? Guilt of Disobedience. Every act of disobedience treats as oi no account the Passion and Death of our King ; nay, it deliberately adds to His sufferings, and if it is a serious act of disobedience, it in some way shares the malice and cruelty of those who scourged and mocked Christ, and put Him to death. St. Paul tells us that, after swearing allegiance to Him, we after wards join the ranks of His enemies, we " crucify the Son of God afresh, and put Him to an open shame." What is not deserved by those who are guilty of such infamy ? Rebellion and disobedience to our King are also the most frightful ingrati tude. Nothing is more hateful than to return evil for good. When we think of the most generous sacrifice of Him self that our King made of His life for us, what can be more shamelessly base and ungrateful than to insult and out rage Him in return. Yet this, alas ! is what I have too often done. The just and holy God cannot allow a single act of rebellion against Jesus Christ our King to go unpunished. Even if the rebel submits, some punish ment must be inflicted. But what if he does not submit ? The sentence passed upon every such 492 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. rebel is perpetual banishment from the presence of the King — "Depart from Me, ye cursed.' ' This sentence implies misery to all eternity, for to be deprived of God, when we have once appreciated, even in the faintest degree, His infinite beauty, will fill the heart of the exile with such a continual longing after Him, that the consciousness that this longing will never be satisfied will fill him with remorse, dismay, terror, self- reproach, hopelessness, despair. O my God, grant that I may never be sep arated from Thee ! The Punishment of Rebellion. To the sentence of banishment is added the King's anathema — "ye cursed." The curse of God carries with it every possible misfortune. It blights a man's whole being. All his faculties are to him sources of pain instead of pleasure. The senses, instead of admit ting to his soul that which causes it satisfaction, will only admit what is a cause of pain. The memory will call up all that is horrible — the intellect will be deprived of truth, and the heart of peace, of love ; hatred, hatred to all the world, hatred of self will take its place. May I, through God's mercy, never fall under the curse of our King. Besides all this, the body will suffer its own punishment, and that punish ment will be the pain of burning, of all pains the one that we most dread. "De part from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." May this thought help me to have a wholesome fear of any sort of rebellion, and of all that leads there. We are bound to serve our King, be cause He has every claim on us. He is our God, our Creator, our Saviour, our rightful Monarch. But is it to our in terest to serve Him ? His service is a happy service. We never can be solidly or permanently happy unless we enrol ourselves in it. To serve any other master is slavery, and cannot satisfy the cravings of our heart. In the service of our King is the most perfect liberty that is within the reach of mortal man. If we make the will of our King our own will, we shall always be able to do our own will by doing His. Our higher and rational will will never be thwarted, and we cannot fail to be happy all the day long. Advantages of the King's Service. His service is one in which we are always safe. No one can harm us. Our King engages to supply us with weapons and armor, which if we employ we shall be perfectly safe from the hands of our foes. If ever we are wounded or slain, it is entirely our own fault. It is because we do not use our arms, or be cause we neglect His orders or advice. Dangers we shall have to pass through ; suffering we shall have to endure, but no real injury ; nay, what is the most difficult and painful will be the means of the most brilliant success. When the victory is won, we shall have a most magnificent reward. We shall have a share in the glory and in the happiness of our King Himself. He will invite us to a celestial banquet of endless delights, of which we shall never grow weary ; we shall bask in the joy of His love, and in the exquisite happiness of being ever with Him, and with His angels and saints, and of gazing for ever on His Divine beauty. How is it, then, that I am so slack in His service ? Many servants of the King, though JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 493 not actually rebels against Him, are nevertheless disloyal in little things. They neglect the regulations of the service, they disobey Him in points of detail, they neglect His interests for their own enjoyment or supposed ad vantage, human respect prevents them from being thorough in the King's service ; idleness makes them negligent of their duty. They let their arms get dull and blunted ; they are not on their watch against the foe, and so are liable to be worsted by Him. Is not this my case in the spiritual service of Jesus Christ? Disloyalty to our King. These acts of disloyalty, which do not amount to actual revolt, but yet in volve some degree of contempt for our Kiug, and of ingratitude to Him, are what we call venial sins. They are an evil greater than any other evil in the universe, save actual rebellion. They gradually weaken our love and devotion to Him, and prepare the way for open disaffection. They deprive us of many a favor and many a grace that we should otherwise have received ; they impair our power of resisting the foes who attack us ; they destroy our happiness and our peace of mind. Am I conscious of any that I wilfully commit ? What is the punishment of these acts of disloyalty ? Unless they are repent ed of and atoned for, they will involve a long and dreadful time of suffering when life is over. In darkness, and in bitter sorrow, and in desolation, and in agonizing pain, we shall lament over and expiate the little venial sins that undermined our love of our King in this life, and will condemn us to long im prisonment in the cleansing fires before we can see God's face in Heaven. We are all bound to serve our King and fight against His enemies, but this obligation we are too prone to forget, and our King therefore has issued an appeal to all who recognize His sover eignty, and has called upon them to come and fight with Him on the follow ing terms. The object of the campaign is to drive back the host of enemies who are seeking to rob Him of His sover eignty, and to corrupt and destroy His subjects, and to bring destruction on all who are fighting in His cause. The campaign may be a long one, but our King can absolutely promise ultimate victory to every one who will serve Him faithfully. Who would not be anxious to serve a King who could make such a promise as this ? The Summons of our King. But our King does far more than this. He offers to share with His soldiers all the hardships of the campaign, all the sufferings, all the weariness, all the physical exhaustion and all the mental anxiety and pain. Nay, He does more ; He offers to undergo (and has actually undergone) all these hardships and suffer ings in a far worse form and a far more acute degree than that which will be imposed on any of His soldiers. He further promises that in every danger and suffering He will be at their side to help and comfort them, and enable them to come off victorious in every struggle. He also promises that His faithful soldiers, one and all, shall share in all the fruits of the victory. His glory will be their glory, His joy their joy, His happiness their happiness. They shall come and join with Him in His triumph, and shall dwell with Him for ever. What shall we say of one who does not 494 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. accept such an offer as this, or who is careless and disloyal in such a service ? One day all the servants of the King will appear before Him to receive the sentence of reward or punishment that they have deserved. None can escape the summons before that tribunal. There we shall stand with a perfectly vivid recollection of all our deeds, whether good or had, and each will receive from the hands of our King its just recom pense. Then there will be no hiding of any of our faults, no making of excuses, no petitioning for mercy. Our King, who is now our merciful and indulgent Friend, will then be our just and severe Judge. What reason I have to dread the day, which must come sooner or later; and how soon, I do not know. Our King's Tribunal. This day may come upon me very suddenly. I may go to sleep in peace some night, and ere day breaks, find myself standing before the King's tribunal. Even if I have some fore warning, how unlikely it is that I shall then have the same opportunities of preparing for it that I have now ? Then I shall be feeble, and perhaps in severe pain, scarce able to reflect on anything. How foolish to put off till then my preparation for that dread account. The sentence passed will be a final one. I must not forget that. No further opportunity of making amends, or ex pressing sorrow for the past, or of humbling ourselves for our manifold offences and sins. We shall then see in our King either one who will look upon us with looks of love, and with whom we shall dwell in happiness unspeakable to all eternity ; or else we shall shrink away in an agony of terror from our Judge. Our King is not only our Master and Ruler, but also our Teacher in all that is of the greatest importance to our wel fare. He says of Himself: " For this I came into the world, that I might give testimony to the truth." He is always ready to teach us, if we look to Him for instruction and guidance. We cannot go wrong, so long as we carry out His precepts, and conform our opinions to what He has revealed to us. All our errors arise either from our ignorance, or from our ears being dulled by the din of the world, or by self-will and self-love which deafen our ears to His voice when He teaches us what is true and right. Our King as Our Teacher. But it is not safe to trust to what we think is His voice speaking within us. It is easy here to deceive ourselves and to fancy we hear His voice, when we really are listening to the echoes of our own prejudices, or our own self-will. He has therefore provided an external voice, whose teaching none can mis take. His Priests and Bishops carry with them His authority. " He who hears you," He says, "hears me." Am I thoroughly loyal to the Church in all her teaching, accepting it with unques tioning faith as the voice of my King and Master Jesus Christ ? Our King alsot eaches us through the pages of Holy Scripture, of which God is the Author, and especially by all the discourses and parables, as recorded by the Evangelists. All these we must treasure up in our hearts as jewels of truth, and faithfully obey as the com mands of our King. When we are not certain of their meaning, we must seek an explanation from those who teach in JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 495 our King's name, and accept it in a loyal spirit of submission. The Example of Our King. How can we poor weak and sinful men ever hope to conform ourselves to the example of our King and God, the Spotless Lamb of God ? Is not the task an impossible one ? No, it is possible, and within our reach, for — The prevailing feature of His life was unselfishness, and we all can be unsel fish if we choose, and love unselfish ness, and wish to be ourselves unselfish. To call anyone selfish is to brand him at once as one whom we cannot love, or even esteem ; as a despicable character, and as one whom we shall do well to avoid. On the other hand a thoroughly unselfish man cannot fail to be loved ; there is something very attractive about him ; we rejoice in his society ; we wish to be like him. And unselfishness is, besides, within everyone's reach. Hence our King, in giving us a pattern of unselfishness, gives us a pattern of the most attractive of all qualities and one within everyone's reach. Our King in proposing Himself for our example, puts forward another vir tue, which we all can imitate, and which in us is but common sense. " Learn of Me," He says, "for I am meek and humble of heart." Now humility in us is but the esteeming ourselves at our true value ; in recognizing that we have nothing good of our own ; and that we are therefore to be placed below others, not above them. This we can all prac tise, and must practise, if we are to be like to our King, who humbled Him self. The third point in which we can easily imitate our King is obedience. He was obedient in every detail of His life tQ the will of His eternal Father. If we try in all the particulars of our life to do what God wills, not what we will, we cannot fail to become dear to our King. The Condescension of Our King. Condescension is the stooping from a higher position in order to place our selves on a level with those whose posi tion is a lower one than our own. The good teacher stoops to the level of the learner in order to become intelligible to him ; the prince who loves his people stoops to kindly and familiar inter course, or comes down from his own level to that of others. What shall we say, then, of the condescension of our King, who was God co-equal with the Father, when He stooped to our low estate, and came to dwell among those whom He had made out of the dust of the earth? How can we ever appre ciate as we ought this debasement of Himself for our sakes ? If our King had for one moment taken the form of one of the arch angels, or had appeared for an instant among us clad in a human form of majesty, such a condescension on the part of the Infinite God would have had an infinite value. It would have been an infinite debasement of His glory and dignity. What, then, was the Divine condescension that led Him to hide Himself in the womb of one of His own creatures, to appear as a help less babe, to grow up as if an ordinary human being, to appear among men as the inferior and the servant of others, and to mix with the sinful worms of earth as His friends and brethren ? But all this did not satisfy Him. He 496 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. must needs prepare for Himself not merely a humble life, but one of rejec tion, and insult, and outrage. He de sired to stoop as low as He possibly could, to submit to be trampled on, spat upon, and even put to a slave's death. How strange, with such an example be fore me, that I should be so unwilling to stoop ! It is because I am misled by my pride, and do not see in what true dignity consists. There are very few great and illus trious men whose greatness is not in some way derived from, or connected with, the great and noble qualities of their mothers. Let us see how far this is the case with Jesus Christ our King. The Mother of Our King. The mother of our King was the only human being who never once swerved by one hairsbreadth from the will of God. Of all the millions who have trod the earth, she alone was entirely exempt from sin ; she only earned to the full the blessing pronounced by her Son — " Whoever will do the will of God, the same is my father and sister and mother." This was the reason why our King chose her as His abode when He came down to dwell on earth. O that I were sinless, like Mary ! but as this cannot be, I will ask her, in honor of her Divine Son, that all my sins may be washed away, and also that I may henceforth always carry out what I know to be the will of God. The Mother of our King was the only woman who bore a son and yet remained a pure virgin, her childbear- ing consecrating, not impairing her virginity. This, miracle, as it was, was but the connatural result of her being the Mother of God. O unspotted and Immaculate Mother, obtain for me that thy Son may pour into my heart a greater purity, that my heart may be less unworthy of the presence of Him who loved to dwell in thy spotless womb. Jesus derived from Mary His Sacred Body ; His flesh was formed of Mary's flesh. And in return she derived from Him that splendor of grace and holi ness that raised her body and soul to the height of Heaven. The King's Messengers. Our King has a countless number of messengers, whom He employs to carry His messages to His soldiers on earth, to execute His orders, and to bring back to Him a report of their welfare and their doings. What are the tidings that they have to carry to and fro ? Sometimes they carry words of com fort and encouragement to the servants of God, consoling them in distress and in anguish, as the Angel of the Passion consoled our King Himself. Sometimes, too, they exhort and reprove, speaking in the name of our King Himself. ' ' Do not think him one to be contemned," says Holy Scripture, ' ' for My name is in him ; and if thou wilt hear His voice, I will be an enemy to thy enemies, and will afflict them that afflict thee." Am I obedient to the message of my King, when it is whispered in my ears ? Sometimes these holy messengers are sent to do works of mercy or of ven geance. How often has one of them turned aside from bodily or spiritual harm some servant of our King ! How often through their means have the servants of our King triumphed over their foes ! I think far too little of these invisible messengers and of all JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 497 that they have done for me. If I real ized how much they have done for me, I should be more constant in honoring them. These messengers also carry before the throne of our King the story of the struggle between His soldiers and their foes. Sometimes they carry the glad report of some victory won by a servant of God over his passions ; sometimes they cry for vengeance on those who have given scandal ; sometimes they offer to God our prayers. What sort of reports do they carry about me to my King? The Officers of Our King. Our King, in dealing with His sub jects, does not issue all His commands Himself. He follows the method of all human government, and has officers who give their orders in His name and with His authority. Who are these officers ? They are the Bishops and Priests of the Church that He has founded. To these He expressly says, " He who hears you, hears Me." They bear His Divine authority. They are one and all, in their several degrees, the successors of His Apostles. And over them all rules the Vicar of Christ, who speaks with infallible voice and supreme authority, whom to disown is to disown Christ Himself. Do I show all possible re spect to all these representatives of my King, and do I cherish an intense loy alty to the Vicegerent of my King? But there are other officers of my King who hold their commission from Him. Every lawful government in the civil order is a power appointed by Him, and every kind of natural authority, whether of parents, teachers, masters, 32-C F Vol. 2 or other superiors, marks those who hold it as delegates of our King. Do I remember this when I am tempted to show disobedience or disrespect to my superiors, or to speak slightingly of them ? But if we are thus most strictly bound to obey the King's officers, we must also remember that there are very few of us who are not in some way officers in our turn, and that the influence we have with others, and the right we have to command others, makes our position a very responsible one. We shall be more severely judged for our own words and actions if through our fault our subordinates fall away. Our King As Our Redeemer. All mankind were in consequence of their loss of the gift of original justice at the Fall, handed over to the chief enemy of our King, who thus became the prince of the power of this world, and had a sort of dominion over all its inhabitants. From this slavery to Satan our King in His great mercy determined to redeem us, that me might belong to Him, and not to Satan. How did He effect this ? He bought us back from the servi tude we had incurred by paying the price of His own precious blood. He shed the last drop of it upon the Cross in payment; and this was but the final consummation of a life of poverty and hardship and contempt, all of which were a part of our ransom. To all this He added all the sufferings of mind and of body which preceded His Crucifixion. All this our King paid for us, and paid with a generous forgetfulness of self, which marks His excess of love for us. Why did He do this when He might 498 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. have found ten thousand ways of re deeming us without this sacrifice of Himself? It was because He knew that this was, or ought to be, the most effec tive way of winning our love, or making us hate sin, of keeping us faithful to God. He hoped that if naught else would move our hearts, at least the sufferings of our King might put us to shame, and convince us of His love. Our King's Bestowal of Graces. It is the nature of man to value any thing partly according to the price paid for it, partly according to the dignity of the giver, partly according to the value of the thing in itself. What, then, must be the infinite value we ought to attach to that precious blood of our King with which we were redeemed ? Our King has at His disposal a num ber of gifts of incalculable value, and these He is ready to bestow on anyone who will ask for them, and will observe certain conditions that He has laid down for the reception of them. These gifts are gifts that will never perish, but will always remain as priceless treasures to him who receives them. Our King pur chased them for us at the price of His own blood. These gifts are the supernatural graces that He offers to all who are sub ject to His way, and which He has bestowed so liberally on me- These graces are of two kinds. Some are called actual graces, which prompt us to do some act which will increase our happiness in this life, will enable us to follow more closely in the foot steps of our King, and will procure for us a larger share of the rewards He has promised to give to all His faithful servants. These gifts of love He con tinually is offering to me. Yet, strange to say, I too often pass them by and reject them. Our King does more than this. He offers to increase our likeness to Him and the glory and happiness we shall enjoy in Heaven, by a means which re quires no exertion on our part. He offers to give us rich gifts of sanctify ing grace, on the very simple condition that we present ourselves to one of His ministers, and receive from His hand some one of the Sacraments that our King instituted as channels by which grace is poured into the soul. We have simply to present ourselves in due dis positions, and there flows of itself this living stream of grace. Oh, how gener ous is our King, and how ungrateful are we ! Our King's Sojourn Among His Soldiers. If St. Peter or St. John had been asked what were the most striking features of our King's life and conversation during the time that He lived in constant com panionship with them, what would they have chiefly noticed ? His perfect detachment from the things of this world, taking no interest in them except so far as they furthered or hindered the work that His Father had given Him to do. He knew that all the glory of the world was a mere bubble, its pleasures a source of danger to the soul, and that the friendship or hostility of the world was a matter of small moment. Yet how prone we are to seek after the world's esteem, its riches and pleasures, as if they were treasures the most valuable ! His wonderful affability. He was ac cessible to all and at all times, especially to the poor, and to children. His dis- JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 499 ciples were not afraid of asking Him questions ; He was at everyone's beck and call. He had a kind word for every one, He had time for every one ; He drew all to Him by His gentleness and sympathy. Do I imitate Him in this ? Am I always ready to help others, and to give up my own pleasure and time for others, and especially for the poor ? His universal authority over all ex isting things, over the powers of nature, over men, over diseases, over the devils. They all recegnized Him as their nat ural King. He always spoke with au thority. He answered His opponents with authority. And the reason of this was, because He had one motive and one only, the glory of His Father and the carrying out of His will. If this is the ruling principle of my life, I too shall speak with authority ; not other wise. The Power of our King. When our King first sent His soldiers forth to overcome the world, He gave them good reason for being confident of success. "All power," He said, "is given Me in Heaven and on earth." Now if our King is omnipotent, if nothing can thwart or defeat that which He desires to accomplish, what need have I to fear, when the enemy assails me with temptations? What need to fear when wicked men threaten the Church of God with destruction ? What need to fear even my own weakness, for if I am weak, my King is strong, and will give me all the strength that I shall need, when the hour of conflict comes. How I ought to rejoice in the Omnipo tence of my King ! But with my confidence must be mingled a wholesome and filial fear. If our King is omnipotent, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, those who oppose Him or neglect His commands will in deed be in a sorry plight. They will find all things that exist, and all per sonal beings in the whole world, arrayed against them, as having ventured to run counter to the will of Him whose word is a law to the whole host of angels and of saints, and who, even though He spares them now, will in the end tram ple under His feet all who oppose His sovereign will. The omnipotence of my King ought also to console me when I see evil pros pering, and the cause of God apparently defeated. Short indeed will be the triumph of the enemies of my King. Now they may boast themselves and exult, but their exultation will be very short-lived. As the chaff is blown away by the wind, so will all the enemies of the Church be scattered by our King. I need therefore have no fear, but can rest perfectly secure in the strength of my Omnipotent King. The Love of Our King for Us. We may estimate the force of love by the sacrifice that the lover is willing to make of his own comfort, convenience, and happiness for the sake of the object of his love. When love is very intense it is a positive satisfaction to him to re linquish his own interests in order to prove the reality and strength of His love. What was it our King sacrificed for us ? It was the enjoyment as man in His temporal life of the glory that is His with His Father in Heaven ; and when He had entered on His life of hu miliation for the sake of those He loved; He never was content until He had proved the power of His love by a cruel and ignominious death. 500 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. We may also estimate the intensity of love from the desire of the lover to be in the company of the object of his love. Now our King loves His subjects so fondly, that He willingly endured all the shame and agony of the Cross, in order that He might have the joy of their company with Him in Heaven. He also had so great a love for them that He must needs remain with them in the Blessed Sacrament as long as the world shall last. He contrives at the same time to be pleading for them in Heaven, and to be dwelling among them upon earth. How shall I ever praise as I ought this astonishing love of my King? The Special Favorites of our King. Besides all this, He has an individual and personal and special love for each separate member of His body the Church. He never overlooks the wants of any, however trivial ; He never shuts His ears to their prayers ; He is always at hand to assist and comfort them. And He gladly died for each. O God, im press upon my heart the Divine charity of my King. While our King dearly loves all His subjects, there are some who are united by ties of a special affection. Theirs will be the highest place in the King dom of His glory, and to them He gives His best gifts on earth. Who are they ? Their first character is that they are clean of heart. Those who desire the intimate friendship of the spotless Lamb of God must themselves be free from the corruption of fleshly lust, and from the defilement of unchaste thoughts and desires. Such are they who in Heaven will follow the Lamb wheresoever He goeth. Such must we strive to be, if we wish to be the companions of our King, to taste the sweetness of His love, and to share His triumphs. They must also be poor in spirit, i. e., they must rejoice in that sense of de pendence on God, and in that conviction of their inferiority to all around them, which is of the very essence of humility. They must be willing to be passed over and forgotten, as the poor so often are. They must have such a poor opinion of themselves and of their own virtue, that if they are despised or ill-treated, they will, instead of resenting it, regard it as a favor from Almighty God, as being the kind of treatment which, if patiently borne, will help to conform them more perfectly to the example of their King. How do I accept slights and insults ? They must be peaceable men, not contentious or prone to quarrel, or ready to take offence. They must spread around them a spirit of mutual good will, never making mischief, but true children of Him who is the Prince of Peace, and of whose Kingdom the chief characteristic will be its perfect peace. The Conflict of Our King. Our King did not come into posses sion of His earthly kingdom without a struggle. Earth and hell banded them selves against Him. He had to bear the brunt in His human body and His human soul, of all that the malice and hatred of the devil could contrive against Him. He gave Himself up to fight single-handed the battle in which man had so conspicuously failed. He did more than this. He undertook to fight the battle laden with the crushing burden of the sins of all mankind. It was this that caused Him to cry out in His agony : " O my Father, if it be possible let this chalice pass from me." JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. 501 At the end of this struggle between good and evil our King took His place on His earthly throne. And a strange throne it was. The ignominious Cross was the earthly throne of our King. Yet throne it was. He who hung there was the King of the whole universe. There the host of His foes made their final assault and were finally defeated, and compelled to render Him their unwilling homage. O Power, most powerful in weakness, help me to learn that in the Cross alone is true strength and power and victory. The Victory of Our King. Yet in spite of this victory, the strug gle between good and evil still goes on. He who then trampled Satan under His feet is still insulted by His enemy. He is indeed King of Kings, as man, but He has to wait for the full posses sion of His Kingdom. His Immacu late Spouse the Church has to pass through her long conflict before the new heavens and new earth wherein dwelleth justice will take the place of this sin-laden world. O God, hasten this time ! O Lord Jesus, come quickly ! Never was there so strange a victory gained by any King over His enemies. Never was there a victor who had His foes so utterly and completely in His power, and at the same time never was there a conquest which to the eye of man seemed such an utter defeat and failure. Surrounded by His triumph ant enemies, condemned at their sug gestion to the most ignominious of deaths, to all appearance utterly help less, jeered at by those who hated Him, in the utmost anguish of body and mind, bleeding to death, crying out in His agony, " My God, why hast Thou abandoned Me ?" He was, in spite of all this, or rather through all this, trampling His foes under His feet, and successfully completing the work He had come to perform. This scene was an object lesson of the whole history of the Christian religion. Like its founder, it is to be strongest in its weakness. Those Christians torn to pieces in the arena by wild beasts, while the fashionable crowd of Rome gloated over the spectacle, were really subvert ing the power of the paganism that is crushing their lives out of them. Per secution, outrage, contempt, ill-usage, are the soil in which the religion of Christ flourishes. The fiercer the trial, the more complete the victory. Do I remember this when I have to suffer for conscience' sake? Yet the victory of our King still left something to be done. It was a victory, the fruits of which were only gradually to develop themselves. He left some thing for His servants to do ; they, too, must struggle for victory, if they are to share His reward when suffering comes. I must remember that my King is really doing me an honor in making my lot in some way conform to His. Our King's Excess of Love for His Soldiers. We might have thought that our King would have been satisfied with coming down to dwell among men, with bearing for thirty-three years all their ingratitude and coldness, their hostility and even hatred to their friend and benefactor, their lawful monarch whose very property they were. We should have thought that He could not do more than suffer for them every sort of insult and torture, ending with the 502 JESUS CHRIST OUR KING. cruel and disgraceful death upon the Cross. But no; in His unaccountable love, He must needs remain upon the earth which has rejected Him and put Him to death. To the end of time He will dwell among us in the Blessed Sac rament of the Altar. O love strange and wonderful ! Love worthy of our King and our God. Even this is not enough for His excess of love. He must needs go further in order to satisfy this desire for the love of His unworthy servants. He actually feeds them with His own Body and Blood hidden under the sacramental species. He desires to unite Himself in the closest possible way with them, that they may see how ready He is to submit to anything, to exert a divine ingenuity, in order that they may trust Him and appreciate His love, may never shrink from Him in fear, may never doubt the reality of His love. In order to effect this, what has our King to do ? He, the God of infinite majesty, the Supreme Lord of Heaven and earth, takes the form of a little piece of bread in order that He may carry out His design of love. He will ingly suffers all the insults, all the humiliation, all the sacrileges which this mark of His love will involve. O my King, who can ever estimate Thy Divine love for me ? Saint Margaret of Scotland. SAINT herself, Margaret of Scot land was brought up by saints. Her father and his brother were sons of the valiant Ed mund Ironsides, deprived of his kingdom and slain in battle by Canute ; and the little orphan princes were as thorns in the sides of the usurper, who could not feel safe as long as they were in England to remind the Saxon people of their rightful kings. Canute therefore sent them to his kinsman, the King of Sweden, with — it is said — directions to kill them. Be that as it may, he certainly hoped never to be troubled by them any more. However, the King of Sweden was a merciful man, and as he felt sure that so long as they were with him they would not be safe from their enemy, he sent them to King Stephen of Hungary, to be protected and brought up by him. He could not have chosen a better home for them, for not only was Stephen a saint, but his court was one of the most refined and gentle of that rude age. The elder of the two princes, Edwin, died in childhood, but Edward, the younger, grew to manhood and married Agatha, the Queen of Hungary's niece. In 1049 or 1047 — for the exact date is uncertain — Margaret was born to them, to be followed by her sister Christina and her brother Edgar, known in history as Atheling, or the Stranger. Canute's usurpation brought him no blessing. He himself was a great man, but his sons who succeeded him were evil livers ; and when the second of them died, Edmund Ironsides' half- brother, known to all future ages as St. Edward the Confessor, was recalled to the throne of his fathers. When he was settled on the throne he bethought him to send to Hungary for his natural heir, Edward ; and thus Margaret passed under the influence of another saint. A few things are told us about the signs of sanctity which she showed during her girlhood at the English court. She was noted for the strictness of her life and devout practices, and still more for her remarkable love and knowledge of Scripture, to which it was her custom all her life to turn as her counsellor in every difficulty. She was gifted with a wonderful memory, and learned long passages by heart which she never forgot. These were the most peaceful days of her life, for before long first troubles and then labors and diffi cult duties were laid on her. Margaret's father died soon after he came to England, and a few years after, in 1066, St. Edward followed him to another world. Edgar Atheling was the rightful heir to the throne, but he was young, and rather weak-minded, and thus it came to pass that Harold Earl Godwin usurped the crown with but little or no opposition ; though Agatha and her three children remained unmolested in England. This did not 503 504 SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. continue long, for the throne of Harold was in its turn usurped by William of Normandy, and he himself killed at the battle of Hastings. The Conqueror was determined to overcome all resistance on the part of the Saxons. Thus Edgar's life was no longer safe, for William was not likely to spare him if his uncle's subjects attempted to rally round him. There fore Agatha and her children left Eng land by stealth in 1068. Some histo rians say it was their intention to return to Hungary, and others that they all along meant to seek refuge in Scotland. Cockle-shell Vessel. Be that as it may, the ship they were in, which was no better than an open rowing-boat, was driven up the Firth of Forth, on the northern shore of which they landed at a spot since known as St. Margaret's Hope. God made use of that little cockle-shell vessel, and the winds which buffeted it, to take Mar garet to that spot in His world where He meant her to glorify His name and win a place among the saints. Malcolm Canmore, or the Big-head, was at that time King of Scotland, and did more to form and secure the king dom than had done any of his prede cessors. His life also had been troubled from boyhood. His father was that Duncan who was murdered by Macbeth in the manner which Shakespeare has made known to all of us ; and he, a mere youth, fled to England to the court of St. Edward, who gave him a home. He must have left his protector's court about the time that St. Margaret and her parents arrived there, for in 1057 his uncle, Siward of Northumber land, led an army into Scotland, slew Macbeth and placed Malcolm again on his father's throne, which he held for thirty-six years. He was one of the greatest of Scot land's early kings, and laid the founda tion of the feudal system, which his three sons who succeeded him, Edgar, Alexander, and St. David perfected. He had indeed the seeds of chivalry and noble virtue ; but he knew not what it was to put a bridle on his passions. When St. Margaret first visited his court he was but little better than a noble sayage, and the lives of himself and his nobles resembled in many re spects those of the brute beasts. Fierce Conflicts. Vengeance was a passion with Mal colm, and he cared not what blood he shed to satisfy it. Having heard that his territory of Cumbria had been in vaded by William the Conqueror, and some of his towns taken, his wrath knew no bounds. He marched with an army into William's territory in North umberland, and gave orders that no English man, woman, or child was to be spared. All the old men, women, and children were slaughtered, like, in the words of the old chronicle, swine for the banquet. As for the young men and maidens, he drove them before him in chains to be sold in Scotland as slaves. There were so many of these captives that there was no home so poor in Malcolm's kingdom but what it owned an English slave. Such was the man to tame and sanctify whom was the business of Mar garet's life. Malcolm was at Dunfermline, his usual residence, when he heard of the SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. 505 arrival on his shores of Edgar Atheling and his mother and sisters. All that was noblest in his soul was aroused by the misfortunes of these relatives of St. Edward, to whom he owed so much. Rough Pirates. He went at once to meet the exiles, took them to his castle at Dunfermline, and there entertained them as best he could in his rough court. His hospi tality was well rewarded by the soften ing influence of love for Margaret. Can- more had been married before to the daughter of the Norse Jarl of the Ork neys. In those days the Norsemen were still half savages and pirates, and there is no reason to think that Ingebiorge, his wife, was in any way different from her kinsmen. She soon died, leaving behind her one babe, Duncan, who, poor child, was at the time of Mar garet's arrival in Scotland, in the hands of William the Conqueror, a hostage for his father's peaceable behavior. The love for Margaret which now filled Malcolm's heart was different from anything he had before experienced. So refined was she and learned, and withal so beautiful and holy, that she seemed to belong to a different world from his. With any other woman he might perhaps have pressed his suit even with violence, but he was filled with such reverence for Margaret that he did not dare to speak of his love to herself, but pleaded his cause through her brother Edgar. Edgar, of course, wished for nothing better than to have Malcolm as a brother-in-law, to fight his battles with William the Norman, and, perhaps, place him on the throne of England ; but Margaret herself hesitated. She had always hoped, nay, taken for granted, that she would enter a cloister^ and there lead a holy, untroubled life of prayer and work for God. She had not what we call a distinct religious voca tion, otherwise she would have followed it ; for in her day if a noble maiden had no wish to marry and no dislike to a life of retirement, she had no alterna tive to entering a cloister. Margaret's Marriage. Margaret, however, was not sure what was God's will concerning her, and asked for time to consider. No doubt her inclinations drew her to a peaceful life in the service of God. Moreover, her refined nature must have shrunk* from the thought of marriage with Malcolm, and of presiding over a court the brutal license of which she could not have failed to see. She prayed for guidance in her decision, and some hid den inspiration of the Holy Ghost must have pointed out God's will, for after her prayer she consented without further hesitation to become Malcolm's wife. The marriage took place at Dunferm line in 1070, after which her mother and Christina returned to England and entered the royal Abbey of Winchester. Edgar, however, remained the guest of the King of Scotland, who more than once tried, though unsuccessfully, to assert his claims to the crown of Eng land. For twenty-three years had Margaret served God and sanctified her soul in the innocence and holiness of her maid enhood ; and now it was God's will that for the remaining twenty-three years of her life she should serve Him in the world's turmoil, and convert her adopted 506 SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. country to His service. Not only was Margaret a great saint, she was also a great stateswoman. First the court and then the whole country of Scotland was transformed in her hands, and by her influence and the memory of it her sons and her grandsons became great kings, to whom Scotland owed more than to any other of her sovereigns. Her first care after she became Queen was to beautify the worship of God. At her request the King built the great church of the Holy Trinity at Dunferm line, where nothing was used for its service that was not beautiful. The sacred vessels were made of gold and silver decked with gems. Nothing was in her eyes too good for the service of God ; and by her lavish splendor on His behalf, she brought home to her hus band and his rough warriors the great ness of the God whom they served. Beautiful Vestments. Her own apartments were more like a treasure-house than ordinary rooms, so full were they of beautiful vestments and everything needed for the service of the altar. Her maidens, under her su pervision, worked day after day at em broidery and sewing what was to be used for the worship of God. She desired that those who were em ployed in this sacred work should neither do nor say anything unworthy of their occupation, and forbade not only hurtful conversation, but even any frivolous fun such as young girls when together are sure to indulge in. Mirth, indeed, she permitted, but it had to be quiet, and all sounds, of rebuke and merriment equally, were chastened. No man, unless his presence were ab solutely necessary, was allowed inside that work-chamber. In spite of the strictness with which the holy Queen enforced her severe regulations, which were so very different from the license and liberty to which the court had been accustomed, no one resented it, and all loved her and would do anything she asked of them. Rest in Prayer. Margaret herself lived on prayer, and in it found all the rest she allowed her self. Her only means of finding soli tude in that rough court was by retiring to a cave a short way from the Castle ; and there she sometimes spent hours in silent prayer. The King, who had not yet learned to understand his wife's sanctity, could not understand the mean ing of her visits to the cave, and al lowed vague feelings of jealousy to take possession of his heart, which made him follow her one day, to see whom she met in her retreat. Looking in through the opening, he saw that she was alone, kneeling before a rude cross which she had set up, with her arms outstretched and quite lost in prayer. Full of awe, and very much ashamed of his suspicions, Malcolm crept back, unseen and unheard by her. He had stood on the threshold of things beyond his understanding. No doubt it was her beauty which had first drawn his affections to her, and her refinement and the culture of her mind had taken his heart by storm. But it had never occurred to him how much it might cost him to be the hus band of a saint, and he was only to realize by degrees what a change of standard, what self-denial, and what heroic practices it was to involve. As, however, the years rolled on, and SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. 507 as grace made him into a changed man, Malcolm understood his wife's secrets better, and, hard as the idea was for him to grasp, Malcolm really understood that her life was a life of prayer, and that the day was not long enough for her communion with God. Far from allow ing this to separate his life from that of his dearly-loved wife, the rough war rior, in his great love for her, tried in his simple way to imitate her. Self-torture. He found out that it was her custom in the night, when she thought he was asleep, to steal from her bed, and pray on the bare floor, while she scourged her tender flesh until the blood flowed. At first, not understanding her ways, Malcolm would implore her to return to her bed ; but when it dawned upon him that One higher and more urgent than he was speaking to her, he also would leave his bed, and kneeling by her side would share her vigil. Soon grace spoke to his heart and taught him how to pray ; and when the memory of his many and grievous sins came to his mind, he would shed bitter tears of repentance. When he came to understand their shamefulness, he one by one put away all those grosser sins which had shocked Margaret's pure heart, and his soul became as the flesh of Naaman, like that of a little child. Truly Margaret had not been given to him in vain. It was not enough for her to pray on the floor in her own bed-chamber, but she was driven by her love for God and desire for communion with Him to go down in the middle of the night to the great empty church, and there she would recite the whole Psalter and other prayers, till the monks came in to sing Matins and Lauds before dawn. She said these with them, and retired to rest only when they had finished. But she was found again in the church after daybreak, for she never failed to hear several Masses before the labors of her day began. Malcolm followed all this with dis tant veneration, and his admiration led him into humbly imitating all that she did, until the Spirit of God forced a hearing in his soul and he became a changed man. He could not read — no man in Scotland could unless he were a clerk — and therefore he failed to under stand the secret of the comfort and inspi ration which his wife evidently drew from her books ; nevertheless, he used to finger them reverently and kiss them after she had laid them aside. Book of the Gospels. To give Margaret pleasure, and to do greater honor to the volumes the lan guage of which was sealed to him, he would at times steal one from her and restore it in a few weeks richly bound in gold or silver and adorned with pre cious stones. One of these volumes, a Book of the Gospels, beautifully bound and ' ' radiant with gold," was her constant com panion on the journeys she often made on horseback abouther husband's domin ions. One of her pages always had charge of this book ; and one day, while fording a river, it slipped from his sad dle and fell into the water without his finding it out. It was only when St. Margaret asked for the book in the evening that the loss was discovered. The page and the other attendants at once rode back to seek the volume, 508 SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. which they had at last espied lying in the bed of the river, the current of which was beating its leaves to and fro. The manuscript was delicately painted ; but when they picked it up it was found that the pages were quite uninjured and the painted borders undamaged. It was not only in her prayer that Malcolm tried to imitate his wife, but also in her personal care for the poor, and in this more than in anything he showed the triumph of grace over nature. There had been a time, and not so long since, when he would have spurned every serf or beggar who crossed his path ; but now he looked on Christ's poor with very different eyes. Every day in Lent, having shut the doors for greater privacy, and aided only by his chaplains, he and St. Margaret washed the feet, and attended to the wants of three hundred of the poorest men and women, to gather whom together was the duty of the attendants of the courts. Feeding Beggars. This was but a portion of St. Mar garet's love on behalf of the poor. Every day of the year, before she would taste food herself, she fed and minis tered to twenty-four beggars, who fol lowed the court wherever it went. This was, it is true, her own special work of charity, but it was Malcolm's also, for his wife accompanied him on all his expeditions about the country when he went to set matters right and admin ister justice, and probably it was at first hard to nature to tolerate and welcome this band of beggars who were in her train. However, there was one act of mercy which must be called entirely Margaret's own. Every morning, when she returned to her rooms after assisting at the Divine Office sung by the monks in the church, she had nine infant orphans brought to her. These she tended with her own hands, and washed and dressed them ; and then, taking them one after the other on her knee, she feed them with her own spoon on soft food which she had herself prepared for them. Want and Misery. The poverty in Scotland, after cen turies of warfare, and the invasion of Picts, Danes, and other barbarians, was very great, and wherever the holy Queen went, want and misery met her eyes. As she rode or walked out, the destitute crowded round her, and she gave them all she had with her, whether coin or other possessions. She even stripped herself of her own clothes for them, and when she could give no more she borrowed of her attendants, who all gave readily whatever she asked of them. She soon came to the end of her own money, and then turned to the King. Freely as he gave she was not content, but took his coins and possessions with out asking, though he knew full well what she did. Whenever he put a large sum of money in the dish as an offering at Mass, St. Margaret would put out her hand and take a number of coins from it for her poor. Seeing what she did, Malcolm laughed, and, jesting tenderly with her, told her that he would have her arrested and tried as a thief. Noth ing that Margaret did could be wrong in his eyes. It was not only alms that she demand ed for the poor ; she was for ever claim ing justice for them at the hands of the King and of those who administered the SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. 509 law. There was a stone between Edin- burg and Queensferry, for long known as St. Margaret's stone, on which she used to sit to listen to all those who had grievances and had been oppressed or defrauded. English Slaves. Having heard all the petitions and complaints, she did what she could to see that justice was done. For none of the poor did she feel greater compassion than for the English slaves with whom Scotland was then filled. She employed men to seek out those who were worst off and who were maltreated and neglect ed, and then, as far as her means allowed, she would ransom them and send them back to their own homes across the border. Margaret's work, was far from done — nay, it was only just begun — when she won the soul of her noble-minded hus band to God. Her marriage with him had been blessed with eight children, and till these had been trained to be good Christians, till the manners and customs of the court had been reformed, and till the most crying evils against religion which stained the country of her adop tion had been remedied, she was to know no rest from her labors. As we have already said, she drew strength to carry on her single-handed fight against corruption in prayer, and constantly turned to Holy Scripture as a guide and counsellor in her difficulties. It was, however, the good pleasure of God to give her help of a more human kind. This she found in her holy inter course with Turgot, Prior of Durham, whose presence at her court she obtained, and under whose direction she com pletely placed herself. Being full of holy fear of offending God, she entreated Turgot to rebuke her unsparingly if he saw anything worthy of blame in either her words or actions. "As I did this less frequently and * sharply than she wished," he says in his Life of the Saint, " she urged the duty on me and chid me for being drowsy, so to speak, and negligent in her regard. She courted censure as helpful to her progress in virtue, where another might have reckoned it a disgrace." A Timely Helper. In matters connected with the manage. ment of affairs in Scotland, which, perhaps required more experience and discernment than were possessed by Turgot, she had recourse by letter to, Lanfranc, the great Archbishop of Canterbury, whom she had known in England, and with whom she kept up a regular correspondence. Malcolm and Margaret had eight children — six sons, Edward, Ethelred, Edmund, Edgar, Alexander, and David, and two daughters, Matilda and Mary, the elder of whom is known to history as the " good Queen Maud," wife of Henry I. of England. St. Margaret devoted the greatest care to the training of her children. She taught them their prayers herself, and was for ever placing before them the great rules of Christian life, which none of them, in spite of occasional backsliding, ever forgot. ' ' Oh my children," she would say, " fear the Lord, for they who fear Him shall never lack. If you love Him, He will give you, dear ones, prosperity in this life and everlasting happiness with the saints." This, according to Turgot, was the general gist of her teaching. Her discip line with her children and 510 SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. her methods with them were un doubtedly severe; and Prior Turgot relates that she strictly charged their governors and nurses to be careful never to spare the rod. She also established the strictest rules as to the subordination of the younger to the older children, and never permitted them to act except by seniority. For instance, when they placed offer ings in the dish before the altar at Mass, this rule was strictly observed, and not one dare disobey it. This system of seniority was blessed to these young princes and princesses, as is shown by the fact that David, Margaret's last-born, and therefore subject to all, was the holiest as well as the greatest of the family, and, though never canonized by Rome, has always been called a saint. Reforming the Court. St. Margaret's second task was the reformation of the court. When she came to reign in Scotland, its manners and morals might have put the brutes to shame ; but before many years had passed she had quietly and gently changed everything. She was far from being blind to the horrible and disgusting vices which prevailed generally, but her common sense told her that it was quite impossible for such people to be convert ed all at once, or be capable of under standing a really high standard were it put before them. Thus she contented herself at first with trying to check the shameless openness of their vice, and persuaded them at least to try to conceal it. This seemed to open out new ideas of life to the rough warriors who composed the King's court. By degrees a sense of shame came over them, and from con cealing their vices they went on to over coming and giving them up. Margaret treated them as she would have treated untaught children, and to increase their sense of self-respect had recourse to schemes which some might have called childish. She encouraged foreign merchants to trade with Scot land and bring over rich and gorgeous clothes ; and she — humble and poor in spirit as she was — set the example of clothing herself in the finest and gayest garments. Saying Grace. All the court was eager to do as she did, and took pains with their outward appearance, and by such like devices the holy Queen persuaded men and women, who had been but little higher than the beasts, to have some sort of self-respect. Coming as she did from the courts of two saints, it grieved her to see that it never occurred to any one to say grace either before or after meals. She did did her best to introduce the habit, and to encourage those who listened to her she graciously drank the health of all those who returned thanks. In order to improve the King's posi tion and increase respect for him, Mar garet persuaded him never to ride abroad unless attended by a bodyguard ; and to belong to this bodyguard was esteemed a great honor. Those who formed it thought that they were bound to be better than their fellows, and by degrees a knightly spirit grew in them. They learned the laws of honor and chivalry, and protected the weak, and even the poor, who, before Margaret came, were treated as of less account than the hounds or the cattle. If any one belonging to the court fell from his SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. 511 Standard and ventured to lead an evil life, the Queen herself, with holy bold ness, admonished him in words which none who heard them were likely to forget. Restoring Religion. But St. Margaret's greatest and hard est task was the restoration of religion in Scotland. It had suffered terribly from the incursions of Norsemen and barbarians, and religious practices had died out or become corrupted. Com munion with Rome was, if not cut off, but rarely carried out ; abbeys were governed by laymen instead of monks ; marriages within the forbidden degrees were freely contracted ; in some distant places Mass was celebrated with strange and unlawful rites ; the observance of Sunday was quite neglected ; Lent, by an error of calculation, the effect of want of communion with Rome, was begun on the first Monday instead of on Ash Wednesday ; and worst than all, as a consequence of a spirit of rigorism called up by the general laxity and from a dread of profanation, the Sacra ments were but rarely frequented, and communion was received not even once a year. To remedy all these abuses Margaret organized provincial Councils of the clergy, and many local corruptions were thus rectified. One of these Councils was held with greater solemnity. The four Bishops of Scotland — for there were but four sees then — were present, and the Queen, who had, we may pre sume, discovered the ignorance and incompetence of the Scotch clergy, and their inability to grasp the scope of the evils which had to be contended with, had obtained the assistance of three monks, sent by Archbishop Lanfranc. With their help and countenance she resolved to make use of the learning and eloquence which she herself possessed, to plead in her own person the cause of the Church, and try to restore its law ful discipline in Scotland. Malcolm was one with his wife in her desire to reform ecclesiastical matters, and be ing, as he was, equally at home with the English tongue spoken by Margaret, and Gaelic, the language of the Bishops, clergy, and others present at the Coun cil, he took on himself the office of interpreter. The Council sat for three days, and all the abuses were handled in turn by the learned Saint. But the two points on which she dwelt at greatest length were the observance of Lent and the neglect » of Holy Communion. Length of Fast. As regarded the first of these ques tions, the representatives of the Scottish Church defended their practice by try ing to prove that according to the rule which she wished them to adopt they would have to observe a fast of forty- five days instead of one of forty. Mar garet, however, soon convinced them that as the Sundays were excluded, the only way to secure the fast, ecclesias tically prescribed, of forty days, was to begin it four days sooner. In gaining this point the Saint had but comparatively small difficulty ; but the scruples which kept men year after year from receiving Communion, for fear of unworthiness, were far harder to contend with ; though in the end her arguments and persuasions prevailed. " The Apostle," said one of the clergy, who acted as spokesman, " when speak ing of persons who eat and drink 512 SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. unworthily, says that they eat and drink judgment to themselves. How, then, can sinful men venture to approach such an awful sacrament ?" He considered these words to be unanswerable and therefore conclusive in favor of the rigid custom prevalent in Scotland. "What!" cried St. Mar garet in reply. " Shall no one that is a sinner taste of this holy mystery ? Then no one in the whole world shall venture to receive Holy Communion, for there is no one entirely free from sin ! Why, then, did our Lord Jesus Christ say that except we eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His blood we shall have no life in us ?' ' Observing the Sacrament. And thus, with arguments prompted to her by love of God, did this holy Queen gain her point, and once more, as in the days of old, the Bishops and clergy urged the faithful to approach the sacraments. For twenty-tree years did Margaret reign as Malcolm Canmore's queen, for the good of the realm and salvation of souls. Then it was decreed in the counsels of God that her work was done and that she was to pass to her eternal reward. But the end was not to be before she had drunk deeply of the chalice of sorrow and suffering. First she was called on to part with Malcolm. William Rufus had taken possession treacherously of Malcolm's Castle of Alnwick, and had put the garrison to the sword ; and the King of Scotland must needs raise an army and obtain his rights and avenge the wrongs of his subjects. Margaret was a valiant woman, and had never before tried to keep him back from lawful warfare, but this time she had a premonition of evil, and did her best to persuade him not to go on the fatal expedition, but rather to put up with the loss of his castle. But honor called him ; and in spite of her entreaties he tore himself from her, and went — as it turned out, to his death. He took with him his eldest son, Edward, and his fourth, Edgar. Ethelred was a monk, and no mention is made of Edmund. Worn out with Labors. For some months before this Marga ret's health had failed her. She was in truth worn out with her labors and austerities. It had been her custom to ride over the length and breadth of her husband's dominions, accompanying him in all his errands of justice and law-making ; but now she could no longer mount a horse. When Malcolm went on his last expedition, she, with her younger children retired for greater safety to Edinburgh Castle, and there, day by day, she grew weaker, until, at last, she rarely left her bed. Her mind was sore with anxiety, and her body was racked with pain; but this was not enough. Another sacrifice was required of her, to purge her holy soul from all attachment to this life. She was called on to part with Prior Turgot, her constant friend and wise counsellor. He was recalled by his superiors to his monastery at Durham, and great as were St. Margaret's claims on him, obedience forbade any delay in his departure. Before he left she made a general con fession to him, and shed such tears of contrition that the holy old man's i '¦¦ '¦¦: ¦¦¦¦ -¦¦ :-.. CHRIST PREACHING FROM THE BOAT SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. 513 heart was almost broken. " When she wept," he says in his Life, " I wept likewise, and thus we wept and at times were silent together, since by reason of our sobs we could not give utterance to words." Before she bade Turgot farewell, the Saint begged two favors of him, namely, that he would always pray for her, and, secondly, that after her death he would have care of her sons and daughters, and, if he saw any of them "puffed up with pride or offending God by avarice, or neglecting eternal life through worldly prosperity, to go to him as at once his father and master, and warn and instruct them. ' ' Turgot, bursting again into tears, promised to perform these her last wishes, and went away. Malcolm's Death. "After that day," he writes, "I never saw her face in the flesh." He left her in the charge of a priest, who attended her to the end, and has left a narrative of her last days. So devoted was this priest to her, and so overcome by witnessing the death of a saint, that he made a vow to consecrate himself to God in the religious life as soon as she should have breathed her last. On the 13th of November, four days before her death, a knowledge, so it seems, was given to her of her hus band's end. " Perhaps, ' ' said she, turn ing to the priest who sat by her bed side — "perhaps on this very day such a heavy calamity may befall this realm of Scotland as has not been for many ages past." It was, in fact, on that day that Malcolm lost his life by basest treachery. He had laid siege to the Castle of Alnwick, and the garrison, being well-nigh reduced to starvation, 33-C F Vol. 2 offered to capitulate ; and the Governor came out, bearing the keys to give to Malcolm. But as the King of Scotland rode for ward to receive them, the traitor raised his lance and pierced the noble Mal colm through the eye. Edward, his son, who was close at hand, rushed for ward to avenge his father's death, but he too was slain. The Scottish soldiers, appalled by this double loss, retired from the siege, and it was left to poor Edgar, who was a mere lad, to go to Edinburgh to break the sad news to his mother. Her Last Hour. She, though he knew it not, was rapidly approaching her last end. On the 16th of November, knowing that her death was close at hand, St. Mar garet, gathering her remaining strength, went to the chapel which she had built in the Castle, and there heard Mass and received Holy Communion. It was to be her Viaticum. After the Holy Sac rifice had been offered, her strength failed her and she was carried back to her bed, where she lay all day in her agony, while several priests knelt round her, reciting prayers. As the hour of death drew nigh, the Saint asked for a certain crucifix, known as the Black Cross, which she treasured very greatly. It had belonged to her uncle St. Edward, and contained a relic of the True Cross. It was in honor of this crucifix that St. David, her son, built the famous Abbey of Holyrood. A delay occurred in opening the casket which contained the sacred object, and she became greatly agitated, thinking that the obstacle was sent as a punish ment for her sins. " Oh, unhappy that we are," she sighed. 'Oh, guilty that 514 SAINT MARGARET OF SCOTLAND. we are ! Will it not then be permitted to us to look once more upon the Holy Cross ? " When it was at length brought to her, she repeated before it the Mis erere, with the greatest contrition. As she lay thus awaiting death, with the Black Cross before her eyes, her son Edgar, but just returned from witness ing the death of his father and brother, entered the room. When he beheld his mother at the point of death, he stag gered and stood as one bereft of his senses. But St. Margaret, whom the attend ants had thought to be unconscious, turned to him and asked after her hus band and son. The poor boy, not dar ing to tell her the truth, replied that they were well. " I know that they are well, I know it, my son," she replied. "But, by this holy Cross, I adjure thee to tell me the truth ;" and thus pressed, Edgar told her the whole story of the betrayal and death of Malcolm and Ed ward. Instead of lamenting, the Saint rejoiced. "All praise be to Thee, Almighty God," she said, "who hast been pleased that I should endure such deep sorrow at my departing." But the hour had now come. Rousing herself, she began to pray in the words of the Mass : ' ' Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, who, according to the will of the Father, through the co-operation of the Holy Ghost, hast by Thy death given life to the world, deliver me" — she got no further, for as she thus prayed to our Lord to deliver her from the evils of this life, He hearkened to her desire, and called her pure soul to be for ever with Him. forms one of the most strik ing and most wonderful epi sodes in all history. When every allowance for the tendency of her time to the marvellous and for possible ex aggeration has been made, the solid fact remains that a poor, unlettered country girl, who left her village home at the bidding of what she believed to be a command from Heaven, threw herself into the unknown life of court and camp, and, strong in the belief of her mission on behalf of her country, achieved in a few short months, " more than Caesar or Alexander accomplished in so much time, and at an age when even Alexander had as yet achieved nothing." Nor does her hold upon the imagina tion of the world consist only in her ex ploits for the deliverance of France from the power of the invader ; the purity of her life and the singleness of her aim before God are parts of the spell by which she has held the atten tion and commanded the growing rever ence of the world for half a thousand years. She was not only, like War wick, a "king-maker," she was also a living type of holy and exalted woman- MlLBURN. HpHE story of I hood, whom many have acclaimed as • J Joan of Arc a saint even before the Church has spoken. Before her life and work can be un derstood, and their greatness estimated even in the vaguest way, something must be said about the condition of France in her days. Under Edward III. of England a war had been opened with France which lasted a hundred years. In it were won the glories of Cressy and Poitiers, and the no less brilliant victory under Henry V. at Agincourt. From this last defeat France was in no condi tion of health and courage to recover. The country had been a prey to misfor tune for nearly a century, a victim to defeat at the hands of external foes and to the distractions wrought by the strug gles of factions at home. At the accession of Henry V. the throne of France was occupied by an insane King, Charles VI., who was en tirely under the power of one of his great nobles, the Duke of Burgundy. Against the King and his favorite were the Duke of Orleans, backed up by an unnatural ally— Isabella, the faith less wife of Charles. Having married a daughter of the Count of Armagnac, the party of the Duke of Orleans obtained the name of Armagnacs ; so the country came to be divided by these contending factions of Burgundians and Armagnacs, 515 516 JOAN OF ARC. as in later days the struggles of Guelph and Ghibelline distracted the empire. Two years after the battle of Agin- court the Dauphin, son of the King, fell under the power of the Armagnacs, whilst the Queen Isabella passed over to the Duke of Burgundy, whose murder in 1417 threw his son Philip, thirsting for revenge, on the side of Henry V. Rival Kings. Bewildering in the telling, this chang ing strife of parties could not but be confusing and disastrous to a country which had England, a victorious enemy, not merely thundering at its gates, but firmly planted in its very heart. The rival Kings died in 1422. Henry VI. was but an infant, whilst Charles of France was weak of purpose and op posed by those of his own nation. Henry's cause, however, was in the hands of his able and resolute uncle, John Duke of Bedford, who ruled France as Regent and carried the Eng lish arms to another victory, rivalling Cressy and Agincourt in its complete ness, at Verneuil. The Dauphin Charles now fled south, abandoning to Bedford all the country north of the Loire. Paris was in the hands of the English, and alone of all the strongholds of France the city of Orleans remained in the hands of what may be conveniently called the Na tionalist party. If that should fall there was little prospect of any organized opposition to Bedford being maintained, for it was practically the key of the military situ ation. The town was accordingly in vested by the English in 1428, and its fate seemed sealed, for in spite of the gallant defence made by its citizens, the Dauphin, hopeless of hurling back the tide of invasion after the fruitless ap peals for help he had made to Scotland and Naples, sank into inactivity at Chinton. France's fortunes were at their dark est hour, but it was the darkness that preceded the dawn, for just then, when all seemed lost, light broke from the east in the person of a girl who put heart into the womanish Prince and re vived the hopes of the demoralized soldiery. That girl was Joan of Arc. Her Birthplace. Jeannette, or, as she afterwards came to be called Jeanne d'Arc, was born of laboring parents, simple and faithful Catholics, of good repute and honest life, in the little village of Domremy, about one hundred and forty miles to the southeast of Paris, on the banks of the Meuse and bordering on Lorraine. There and by them she was brought up with good care in the Faith and in good morals, so that, as one of the villagers who knew her deposed on oath, she be came " so good that all the village loved her," and grew up, as another testified, "a chaste maiden of modest habits" than whom there was " no one better " in Domremy and its adjoining hamlet of Greux. Her days were taken up with the usual occupations of a peasant girl. In addition to the many duties of the house she busied herself in spinning hemp and wool, and in sewing, following the plough or the harvesters in the fields, according to the season. When it was her father's turn to mind the cattle and flocks of the village on the common land, she acted as shepherd in his stead. Her pleasures, too, were the simple JOAN OF ARC. 517 joys of the peasant folk to whom she belonged. There were excursions into the great woods of the Vosges, and like the other boys and girls of Domremy she went to the Ladies' or the Fairies' Tree near the village on Mid-Lent Sun day, where they feasted and danced. Not that Joan herself was a great dan cer ; she was fonder of work and still fonder of prayer. Oftentimes when others were singing and dancing she would go into the church or to the holy places near her village ; indeed, her fre quent church-going made her the butt of some good-humored chaff amongst her companions. Her speech was restrained. A God-Fearing Girl. The Cure of the neighboring parish of Roncessey - sous - Neufchateau has handed down to us the witness of Mes- sire Guillaume Fronte, a Cure of Dom remy, who used to say that Joan " was a simple and good girl, pious, well brought up, and God-fearing, and with out her like in the whole village. Often did she confess her sins ; and if she had had money, she would have given it to him to say Masses. Every day when he celebrated Mass she was there." A la borer of Greux, who saw much of her, tells how, when they were at play, Jean- nette, as they called her, would " retire alone to ' talk with God,' " and that when in the fields she heard the bells of the church she would drop on her knees to pray. Another laborer testifies to her charity and devotion to the sick from the prac tical experience of her nursing him through an illness ; whilst her kindness to the poor was so complete that she would even sleep on the hearth in order that they might lie in her own bed. Testimony such as this is admirably summed up in the words of M. Jean Colin, another Cure of Domremy, who assures us that she was " an excellent girl, with all the signs of a true Chris tian and of a true Catholic." Bands of Marauders. This picture of Joan, which we have pieced together from the sworn testi mony of those who knew her, shows that this " most chaste maid " was no oddity or visionary, but a simple, hard-work ing, God-fearing, practical Christian, with no ambitions, no desire for change, no hankering after admiration. At the same time she could not be indifferent to the sufferings of her country , for the . tide of war had reached the borders of Lorraine and broken into the quiet tenor of life at Domremy. Along with her parents she was forced more than once to fly into the woods or to Neufchateau before bands of ma rauders, to find their home sacked and burnt on their return. Dread of the English and the tale of their deeds formed the burden of every household story. Old prophecies were upon the lips of the people ; the kingdom, it was said, lost by a woman (Isabella, the wicked Queen, the false wife), would be restored by a woman ; and in the east of France the tale ran that the deliv erer would be a maid from Lorraine — Lorraine, out of which, like Nazareth of old, the proverbs said no good thing could come. Fed by such and so many predis posing influences her love of country grew, subject to her love for God, into the absorbing passion of her life ; she " had pity on the fair realm of France." Here she found a subject for frequent 518 JOAN OF ARC. and earnest prayer, and the answer came in a strange and unexpected form. Joan was in no way apparently mark ed out for greatness, and certainly no visionary, but her mind was full of the terrible story of the times and her soul ready to do the will of the Lord she loved and served. But the message came ; and she heard, and saw, and obeyed. Voice of an Angel. Here, in her own simple words, is the story of its first coming : "I was thir teen [1425, the year after the French defeat at Verneuil], when I had a Voice from God for my help and guidance. The first time I heard this Voice I was very much frightened ; it was midday, in the summer, in my father's garden. I had not fasted the day before. I heard this Voice to my right, towards the church ; rarely do I hear it without its being accompanied also by a light. The light comes from the same side as the Voice. Generally it is a great light. The Voice seemed to come to me from lips I should reverence. I believe it was sent me from God. When I heard it for the third time I recognized that it was the Voice of an Angel." This belief in the reality and divine origin of the Voice she asserted time after time, declaring that she was as sure of it as of the Christian Faith. But it was not merely a Voice to hear ; there was a vision to see. The light and glory shone about the faces of those from whom her Voices or her counsel came. Her first Voice came with a vision of St. Michael, whom she saw before her eyes, surrounded by the angels of heaven, and when they went from her she wept. The other Voices were those of St. Catharine and St. Margaret, whose ' ' faces were adorned with beautiful crowns, rich and pre cious," and whose Voices were "beau tiful, sweet and low." The first message was at first of a general sort- She was told to be "good," to "go often to church," and " to trust in God." From this she de rived comfort and help, but when the message changed to a command that she must pass into France and raise the siege of Orleans her heart was troubled. She remonstrated ; she was but a poor girl who knew nothing of riding or fighting. Plans to Relieve Orleans. Raise the siege of Orleans ? How should such a thing be done by her ? But the Voices were insistent, and she was told to go to Vaucouleurs, a town a few miles north of Domremy, and see its captain, Robert de Baudricourt, who would provide her with an escort to accompany her. For a long time she dared tell no man of her visions. But in May, 1428, she went to visit her uncle, Durant Laxart, who lived at a village called Burey, near Vaucouleurs, and to him she un. folded them, not as visions, but as plans of her own, reminding him of the old prophecy as to the manner of the de liverance of the kingdom. After some very natural hesitation the good man at her second visit took her to Vaucou leurs, where he placed her in the house of one Leroyer, a cartwright. She told her hosts : " It is necessary that I should go to the noble Dauphin ; my Lord, the King of Heaven wills that I should go ; I go in the name of JOAN OF ARC. 519 the King of Heaven ; even if I have to drag myself thither on my knees I shall go." De Baudricourt had refused to believe her before, but this time his mistrust was overborne, thanks to the support given to her by one who be lieved in her mission, Jean de Novel- onpont. " What are you doing here, my friend ? " he asked her, half in credu lity and half in jest, "shall the King be driven out of France and must we all turn English ?" In Serious Earnest. "I am come here to this royal town," came the answer, in serious earnest, " to speak to Robert de Baudri court to take or send me to the King ; but Robert cares neither for me nor my words. Nevertheless, before the mid dle of Lent, I must be with the King, even if I have to wear my feet down to my knees ! No one in the world — neither kings, nor dukes, nor the daughter of the King of Scotland, nor any others — can recover the kingdom of France ; there is no succor to be looked for but from me. Nevertheless, I would rather spin with my poor mother, for this is not my proper estate; it is, however, necessary that I should go and do this, because my Lord wills that I should do it." And her Lord, she said, " was God." Convinced by this solemn declaration, de Novelonpont pledged himself to pro cure her a conduct to the King, and asked her when she would wish to start. "Sooner at once than to-mor row, and sooner to-morrow than later," she replied, in her firm belief in her mission and her anxiety to perform what was required of her. Another supporter now came for ward in the person of Bertrand de Poul- geny, a squire, who had been present at her interview with de Baudricourt, when the village maid had declared that the Dauphin must be compelled to perse vere and give battle to his enemies, and that the Lord would give him succor before the middle of Lent ; and that she would make him King in spite of his enemies and would conduct him to his coronation. Backed by these powerful advocates, and by dint of her own persistency, Joan at last overcame the doubts of de Baudricourt, who allowed her to set forth for Chinon and gave her a letter to the King. Takes a Man's Dress. Asked by de Novelonpont if she would make the journey dressed as she was, she answered that she would wil lingly take a man's dress. This the people of Vaucouleurs obtained for her, and de Novelonpont bought her a horse, he and de Poulgeny forming part of her escort and paying the expenses of the journey. The party set out on February 23, 1429, on the eleven days' journey to Chinon. Joan's mission was naturally the burden of conversation, and in reply to the oft-repeated question whether she would really do all she said, she answered unfalteringly : " Have no fear; what I am commanded to do I will do ; my brothers in Paradise have told me how to act. It is four or five years since my brothers in Paradise and my Lord — that is, God — told me that I must go and fight in order to regain the kingdom of France." At first, for fear of the Burgundians, through whose country they were jour- 520 JOAN OF ARC. neying, the party traveled only at night, and Joan appears to have felt very keenly being unable to hear Mass at the places where they rested. News of the wonderful shepherd girl, whose mission it was to deliver their city, reached the beleagured Orleanists, who sent envoys to Charles at Chinon entreating him not to scorn this chance of giving them relief. On the eleventh day after leaving Vaucouleurs, Joan and her party reach ed St. Catharine de Fierbois, where they rested and the maid heard three Masses, and whence she sent a mes sage to the Dauphin telling him she had journeyed a hundred and fifty leagues to help him. The next day, March 6th, she rode on to Chinon. At last her splendid faith in her mission and her indomitable persistency had overcome all obstacles. She was on the eve of entering upon the performance of her work. "Sent by God." Joan, having arrived at Chinon, where the Dauphin Charles was then abiding, was kept for two whole days before she was admitted into the royal presence. When presented, she held herself una bashed, for she had seen in her visions finer company than any earthly court could show her. Charles, plainly dress ed, stood among a group of nobles, and when she knelt, before him, pointed to a richly-dressed courtier, saying : "That is the King, not I." But the Maid knew better. ' ' Most noble Dauphin, ' ' she answered, "I am Joan the Maid, sent by God to give succour to the kingdom and to you." She asked for troops, that she might go and raise the siege of Orleans. This was a staggering request to come from a peasant girl, and we cannot won der that the giving of an answer was deferred. The whole incident was a strange one, and Charles and his advisers felt that they must go warily to work. Joan was placed in the charge of Bellier, the major-domo, whose wife was known as a prudent and most devout lady. Mean while, two monks were sent to make inquiries at Domremy, and Joan was seen and questioned by learned doctors and prelates to judge whether any faith could be placed in the wonderful things she said. A Great Secret. She felt keenly all this distrust, and still more the delay which it occasioned, and one day, gaining audience of the Dauphin, she said to him in a tone of remonstrance : ' ' Gracious Dauphin, why will you not believe in me? I tell you, God has pity on you, your kingdom and people, for St. Louis and St. Charlemagne are on their knees before Him praying for you." And to show him that she spoke the truth and with authority, she took him apart and told him a great secret which made his face beam with joy — a secret which she would never afterwards divulge. At last, to clear up and satisfy all doubts and apprehension on the matter, it was decided that she should be taken to Poitiers, where Parliament was then sitting, and be examined by a royal commission. There she was lodged in the house of Jean Ratabeau, advocate- general of the Parliament, where she was examined by the Archbishop of Rheims and others. JOAN OF ARC. 521 She was plainly told that her story was unworthy of credence ; and it was objected that if it were God's will that the English should quit France, they would go without being driven away by an army. To this the ever-practical Joan answered: "The men-at-arms I ask for shall fight and God shall give the victory;" and the commissioners had to acknowledge that she had an swered well and wisely. A Famous Letter. So the anxious days of inquiry dragged on, until at last she exclaimed : ' ' You are come to catechize me. Listen — I know neither A nor B, but there is more in God's book than in yours. He has sent me to save Orleans and crown the King." So saying she called for ink and paper and dictated a famous letter, calling upon the English besieg ing Orleans to leave the town and depart out of the country. At last, and in spite of themselves, the prelates, doctors and lawyers were con vinced of her good faith and the reality of her visions and voices. They urged the Dauphin to employ her and accept the strange help she proffered, for noth ing could be discovered against her, and all their inquiries had told in her favor. She had promised to show her sign before Orleans ; let her be sent thither. The common people were more en thusiastic and less calculating in their expressions of belief, and they almost commanded Charles to give the Maid her way. And so in the end the Court of France was induced to stake its last chance of success in a bold throw on the promises of a simple country girl. Before the end of April a military staff was appointed her, of which her old friends Jean de Novelonpont and Bertrand de Poulgeny formed part, whilst her two brothers followed in her retinue. A suit of beautiful white armor was made for her, and a banner was specially painted at Tours, which she herself afterwards described as fol lows : " The field was sprinkled with lilies ; the world was painted there with an angel at each side ; it was white, of the white cloth called ' boccassin ;' there was written above 'Jhesus, Maria ;' it was fringed with silk." The King would have also given her a beautiful new sword, but she asked for one which she said would be found buried behind the altar of the Church of St. Catharine de Fierbois. This was discovered as* she had described. An Army Collected. Her plan accepted, an army and sup plies for the relief of Orleans were quickly collected and placed under the command of captains like the devil- may-care La Hire, whose only prayer was " Sire Dieu, I pray you do for La Hire what La Hire would do for you, were you captain-at-arms and he God." A strange contrast with such as these was the pure, simple Maid, with her white armor and banner and sacred sword. God's ways, as represented by Joan, and the ways of worldly pru dence, as represented by Jean, Count of Dunois, Bastard of Orleans, were quickly at variance. Joan wanted to march along the north bank of the Loire and attack the besieging English at once, but the cap tains deceived her and kept to the south bank. Dunois admitted that he and others had thought this the best thing 522 JOAN OF ARC. to do, to which she rejoined : "In God's name, the counsel of my Lord is safer and wiser than yours. I bring you better succor than has ever come to any general or town whatsoever — the succor of the King of Heaven." Entering the Town. Then a wonderful thing happened. The supplies could only be conveyed into Orleans by boat, and the wind was contrary ; but Joan ordered the sails to be stretched, and the wind changed and the boats gained the town in safety. The same evening Joan entered the town by the Burgundy Gate, whilst the army, unable to cross for the English, was led back to Blois. She was received with enthusiasm by the citizens, who were wild with joy, "as if she had been an angel of God." A few days afterwards the army arrived from Blois, the besiegers looking on in awe, as, after going out to meet it, she led her force unopposed into the be leaguered city. The strength of their numbers now made itself felt on the English. The town was surrounded by a number of forts strongly held ; but one by one they were wrested from their defenders by a series of brilliant sorties in which the Maid was the moving spirit and the never-failing encourager of the over-cautious generals associated with her. Dunois tells us of the effect of her presence. After she had sent her letter to Lord Talbot, he says: "The Eng lish, who, up to that time, could, I affirm, with two hundred of their men have put to rout eight hundred or a thousand of ours, were unable, with all their power, to resist four hundred or five hundred French." Nevertheless, Joan had all sorts of difficulties to contend against. The captains did not entirely trust her, and endeavored to keep their plans a secret from her. They were ever wanting to hold back, whilst she was ever urging them to go out against the foe. But she persisted. Wounded in an attack on one of the forts held by the English, she continued none the less to fight through out the day. When only the Bastille of the Touielles remained to be subdued, the French leaders, thinking they had done enough, resolved to wait. Joan Leads Assault. But Joan led her men to the assault, and at first it seemed as if the generals were about to be revenged. The place was held by a handful of English, who fought with the courage of despair. The retreat was sounded, but the Maid entreated the officers to persevere a little longer. " In God's name," she assured them, " you shall enter shortly." Sta tioning herself, with her standard, near the rampart, she said to a gentleman near her: "Wait till my banner touches the fort." Presently the wind caught its ample folds, and it fluttered against the wall. "Go in now," she cried, "all is yours !" and the assailants burst in and the place was taken. The next day the English drew up in order of battle be fore the walls, but whilst the French were hearing Mass, retreated without striking a blow. Thus was the siege of Orleans raised on May 9, 1429, and so had Joan given the sign which she had promised. After a day spent in joyous thanks giving she left Orleans for Tours, where she was met by the King. He offered JOAN OF ARC AT THE STORMING OF ORLEANS. 523 524 JOAN OF ARC. her honors, but she wanted nothing for herself; what she desired above all things was a decisive action from him. She implored him to attack the other towns and camps on the Loire immedi ately, and so speed and ensure his coronation at Rheims. This bold proposal amazed the timorous Dauphin and his cautious counsellors. ' ' Gracious Dauphin, " she said one day, as she flung herself at his feet, " hold not so many nor such long councils, but come quickly to Rheims and receive your crown!" Half per suaded, at length the King agreed, stipulating that the English should first be driven from the Loire. Successful Campaign. Then commenced the campaign in which, with Orleans as headquarters, a succession of easy victories fell to the French. Jargeaux, Baugency, Troyes, and Chalons were captured, and a fight in open field at Patay was won, and all this within a month. What wonder that as she and the King entered Crespy- en-Valois the people shouted "Noel! Noel!" Yet she bore herself full humbly and nobly through all these hardships and triumphs. She said to the Archbishop of Rheims, "Would it might please God that I might retire now, abandon arms, and return to serve my father and mother and to take care of their sheep with my sisters and brothers, who would be happy to see me again ! " Rheims also submitted without a blow ; Charles entered it in triumph on July 16th, and on the following day he was crowned with all the gorgeous rites of his predecessors of old. By his side stood the Maid who had wrought the deliverance of his land and people, and when the ceremony was over she knelt at his feet and hailed him as King for the first time. "Gracious King," she said, " now is fulfilled the pleasure of God, whose will it was that you should come to Rheims to receive your worthy coronation, showing that you are the true King to whom this kingdom should belong." And as she spoke she wept tears of joy, in which many who were in the church joined. Her father and mother had been invited to the ceremony, and were entertained at the expense of the cor poration. Here we may pause for a moment and cast a glance over what the Maid had accomplished. Following Dunois and the Duke of Alencon, all who have studied her career have marvelled at the magnitude of her achievements during the months of May, June, and July, 1429. Orleans Relieved. Hampered by lowly birth, by her up-bringing, and by her sex, she had yet compelled the learned and the great to give reluctant credence to her story ; she had also forced her way through the ceremony and intrigue that hedge a throne and gained the ear of her King. This initial success was followed by the rapid fulfillment of her mission — the relief of Orleans and the crowning at Rheims. In spite of every obstacle Orleans had been relieved in four days ; in a month more the English had been driven out of their strongholds on the Loire and defeated in a pitched battle. Not less wonderful was the way in which she had conducted the timorous Dauphin through an enemy's country and secured JOAN OF ARC. 525 his coronation at Rheims, the holy city, the baptistry of French Christianity. Outside the province of warfare she was, as all testified, a simple, pious maid ; yet in all that concerned the military task she had undertaken she showed herself no unlessoned girl, but skilled commander, with a keen eye to the weak place of her foes, to the right moment for attack, and a swift judg ment telling her when to act. Use of Artillery. Curiously enough, too, it was, as the Duke of Alencon testified, " principally in her use of artillery that she displayed her most complete talent." Her stu pendous achievements were not the results of mere enthusiasm, but of skill and prudence joined to a bodily endur ance and a strength of soul and purpose which multiplied the strength of the army under her command. As Mr. Douglas Murray says : " Like Cromwell, she 'new modelled' the army : the licentious gaiety of the feudal warrior had to give way to the sobriety and seemliness which became a Christian camp. The voluptuary and the blas phemer had to amend their lives. To revels succeeded prayers, and fasts and vigils. Yet never for a moment did this great amendment develop into formalism or hypocrisy. Like all great souls, she awakened latent good and drove vice abashed from her presence without any conscious spiritual superiority in herself. Men were ashamed to be base in such a presence. " Nor did she ever become a law unto herself, as the ' illuminated ' are apt to be ; rather she was more than ever ob servant of all the duties and claims and observances of ordinary religious obli- her to the city ; this she entered at day- gation, being ever in heart the simple maid whom the Lord for His own mysterious purpose, and without any merit of hers, had chosen for a mighty task." Having given a king to France, she now appears to have turned her thoughts and energies to giving France to her king. Whether or no this formed part of her mission it is impossible to say ; she was so successful in her first cam paign, and so unsuccessful in her second, that many have concluded that it did not. But there is no evidence to warrant such an inference, and it is scarcely credible that Joan, who even in her hour of triumph expressed a wish to return to her simple, quiet life at Domremy, would have remained with the army if she had not understood from her Voices that such a sacrifice was still required of her. Intrigue and Jealously. So she stayed with the army, in a hopeless struggle against intrigue and jealousy on the one hand, and on the other against the vacillation of the new- crowned King. The winter of 1429 was spent in controversies to which the opposing principles of imperialism and nationalism are the keys. In vain she strove to induce the King to march on Paris, which, she affirmed, would have opened its gates as easily as Rheims. At length, after a period of enforced inactivity, she flew to the relief of Compiegne, which, under Guillaume de Flavy, had remained staunch to the King, and was now being attacked in force by the soldiers of the Duke of Burgundy. A plucky night ride brought 526 JOAN OF ARC. break and spent all the morning in ar ranging a sortie. This was made in the afternoon, but was driven back, and whilst she was covering the retreat of her men, de Flavy ordered the draw bridge to be raised. Fighting with a devoted band of followers, she was at length captured, and great was the joy amongst the Burgundians, on this 24th of May, 1430, greater than "if they had taken five hundred fighting men." After being detained at Margny for three or four days she was sent to a castle named Beaulieu, in Vermandois, and there she lingered four months. News of Her Capture. Meanwhile, the news of her capture had been hailed at Paris with much re joicing and the singing of " Te Deums." The Duke of Bedford, the English Regent of France, who had already at tributed the reverses of his arms to " a disciple and lyme of the feende, called the Pucellet, that used false enchant ments and sorcerie," sought to discredit her by prevailing upon the University and the Inquisition to demand that she should be given up to ecclesiastical justice, but the Duke of Burgundy took his own time, and only handed her over to the Bishop of Beauvais, in whose diocese Comgiegne was situated, for a sum of $ 80, 000. In all this there is an evident deter mination that at all costs Joan should be done to death. As a prisoner of war her life could be in no danger; as a sorceress she could be condemned by the ecclesiastical authorities, and then handed over to the secular arm for the carrying out of the sentence. She was delivered into the hands of the English on November 21, and by them, late in December, she was taken to Rouen for trial. It may be well to say here that the story of her capture being due to treachery on the part of de Flavy, Captain of Compiegne, does not seem to be borne out by any evidence given by her at her trial ; and it is well-nigh in credible that she should have been wholly silent had she believed that she had been betrayed. Long Captivity. What is certain, however, is that no attempt at her rescue was made by the King's party, and no ransom was offered during all the long months of her cap tivity before she had passed into the hands of the English. The Burgundians had been in no haste to sell her to Bed ford, and one would have thought that gratitude would have forced King Charles to do all he could on her behalf. Yet he never stirred a finger or offered a sou — a sad illustration of the old warn ing against putting trust in princes. We now enter upon the consideration of the last stage of Joan's wonderful ca reer. Brought, as we have seen, to Rouen in December, 1430, preparations were quickly set on foot for her final undoing. But her enemies had to go warily to work. Her judge was Pierre Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais, a man whose ambition it was to be Archbishop of Rouen, and whose servility to the English in his action against Joan is explained by the desire to achieve that ambition. With him lay the selection of his as sistants and assessors, and amongst these the chief was Jean Lemaitre, Vice-In quisitor of France, brought in because JOAN OF ARC. 527 the charge against her, though none was at first formulated, was one of sor. eery and heresy. Though charged with an ecclesiastical offence, she was kept confined in a lay prison, so that if the trial failed to close in a conviction and condemnation she would still remain in he hands of the English, a procedure selves the said Jeanne, if so it should be that she should not be convicted or at tainted." What makes this all the more glaringly unjust is the fact that she was practically being put upon her trial a second time and before an inferior Court for suspicions and charges of which she had been acquitted at Poitiers ROUEN, THE OLD CAPITAL OF NORMANDY. which was in complete violation not only of ecclesiastical but also of civil law. This purpose was made clear in the letter issued on January 3, 1431, in the name of Henry VI. , commanding her keepers to deliver her for trial when called upon by the Bishop of Beauvais. "In any case, it is our intention to have again and to take back before our- by the Archbishop of Rheims, whilst law and equity were still further vio lated by her being allotted neither counsel nor defenders. At last, however, everything was ready, and the judicial farce, or " the fine trial," as Cauchon described it, opened on Wednesday, February 21st, in the Castle of Rouen, before the 528 JOAN OF ARC. Bishop and his forty or fifty assessors. Alone and unaided she had to appear before this body of keen lawyers and subtle churchmen whose business it was to find a conviction, to pick her way amidst the snares they laid for her, and to stand the fire of questions which, far from being intended to get at the truth, were put for the sole purpose of bewild ering and entrapping her. Her Best Protection. But against it all her very simplicity, candor, and native caution, coupled with her trust in the divine counsel which she believed was given to her by her Voices, were her best protection. Thus the difficult days that followed constituted one of the most enthralling dramas in all history. Six public ex aminations were followed by nine con ducted in private. At first she was pressed to swear to speak the truth in answer to the questions which might be put to her, but she saw the snare and replied that whilst she would willingly speak of her parents, of all that she had done since she left Domremy, and of all that was connected with her case, she could not undertake to answer every question concerning the things that had been revealed to her. This point having at length been set tled, the attack on her integrity began — her Voices and their message were to be discredited, her own good name to be blackened, and her actions to be proved those of a witch or, as Bedford had de nounced her, of " a lyme of the feend." It being Lent, she was asked whether she had observed the fast. Had she eaten as usual, her judges would have convicted her of contempt of the Church ; had she kept the fast, the Voices and visions which she alleged were still vouchsafed to her would have been set down as the results of physical weak ness ; but she skilfully parried the ques tion and declared that the Voices had told her to answer boldly and that God would help her. Then turning to Cauchon she warned him, saying : " You say that you are my judge; take heed what you do, for indeed I am sent by God, and you are putting yourself in great peril." Her Solemn Belief. With the object of condemning her in view, the questions put to her chiefly concerned her Voices and visions, her assumption of man's dress, her faith, and finally her willingness to submit to the Church. We have already seen how fully she was convinced of the reality of the counsel sent to her from a heavenly source. That belief she now solemnly reiterated time after time. ' ' As firmly as I believe in the Christian Faith and that God hath redeemed us from the pains of hell that Voice hath come to me from God and by His command." On the question of the male attire which she had worn since she had en tered the life of the camp and prison, she was equally explicit. Asked whether it was God who had prescribed its use to her, she said: ' ' What concerns this dress is a small thing — less than nothing. I did not take it by the advice of any man in the world. I did not take this dress or do anything but by the command of Our Lord and the angels. If I had been told to take some other, I should have done it, because it would have been His com mand. All that I have done by the order of Our Lord I think has been JOAN OF ARC. 529 done well ; I look for good security and good help in it." Dealing with her military exploits, in the doing of which it was asserted she had recourse to magic, the Court asked the subtle question : "Which gave most help, you to your Standard, or your Standard to you?" Again Joan came out with honor : " The victory, either to my Standard or myself, it was all from Our Lord." "But," pressed the examiner, ' ' the hope of being victori ous, was it founded on your Standard or on yourself?" "It was founded," replied Joan, "on Our Lord and nought else." Theologian Baffled. Equally masterly was the simple di rectness with which this maid of nine teen summers baffled the craft of the theologian who asked her whether she were in the grace of God : " If I am not, may God place me there ; if I am, may God so keep me. I should be the saddest in all the world if I knew that I were not in the grace of God. But if I were in a state of sin do you think the Voice would come to me ?" The last subtlety with which her judges sought to entrap her was her re lation to the Church Militant — a term which had to be explained to her. Would she submit to it ? At first she evaded the question by declaring that she referred all to the Church above. Then she professed her readiness to submit all that she had said and done to the Church on earth, " provided they do not command anything impossible " — that is, against her Voices. And here her splendid confidence in the divine origin of her mission again asserted itself. " In case the Church 34-C F Vol. 2 should prescribe the contrary," she de clared, " I should not refer to any one in the world, but to God alone, whose commandment I always follow." The man who was cross-examining her saw the opportunity afforded him, and seized it : "Do you not, then, believe you are subject to the Church of God which is on earth ; that is to say, to our Lord the Pope, to the Cardinals, the Arch bishops, Bishops, and other prelates of the Church ? " Answers by Command. " Yes, I believe myself to be subject to them ; but God must be served first." " Have you, then, command from your Voices not to submit yourself to the Church Militant, which is on earth, nor to its decisions ? " Again Joan escaped the pitfall prepared for her : " I answer nothing from my own head ; what I answer is by command of my Voices ; they do not order me to disobey the Church, but God must be served first." From these samples of the questions put to her and the answers which she returned some idea can be formed of the difficulties of her position ; and it will be as impossible to withhold admiration for her caution and insight in court as it was to stand unmoved before her ex ploits in the field. But her brave de fence was of no avail. The judges were bent upon her undoing, and the whole course of the trial as well as the ques tions with which she was worried are a proof of it. At first, without, as we have seen, a definite charge against her, the interro gations of the Court were directed to the object of catching her in her words, and so finding what would bring about her ruin. The charge of sorcery was 530 JOAN OF ARC. tried, but even before such judges failed for want of evidence. On the count of heresy they were more successful, for in spite of her declarations of faith in God and the Church, and of her last pitiful appeal to the Pope, they pretended to be satisfied that a charge of constructive heresy had at least been made out. Private Examination. The first stage of the trial was taken up with six public hearings, which took place between Wednesday, February 2 ist, and Saturday, March 3rd. These were evidently most unsatisfactory in their results, for Cauchon suddenly in formed the assessors that, in order not to weary them, he would conclude the examination in private before a few learned " Doctors and Masters, experts in law, religious and civil, ' ' who should write a report which would afterwards be submitted to them all for their private study. In accordance with this change of plan, which there is every reason to be lieve was induced by a fear that the de sired conviction might not be attained, Cauchon and an assembly of doctors and lawyers drew up, between Sunday, March 4th, and Friday, March 9th, a process from the previous examina tions. On Saturday, March 10th, the Bishop commenced his course of pri vate examination, which extended over nine sittings, between the tenth and the seventeenth of the month. The second examination was not un like the first, turning to a large extent on the same subjects and manifesting the same basis on the part of the judges, and, with one exception, the same sim ple truthfulness on the part of the poor persecuted girl. This exception con cerned the "sign" which she had given to the Dauphin. She had to shield the secret between herself and the Dauphin, and she endeavored to do so by working up into an allegory the idea of a mystic crown brought to him by an angel, put into her mind by the judges themselves — a story which she afterwards confessed to be a fable. At the last examination she was ask ed whether, as there was much to which she would give no reply, she would an swer more fully before the Pope. " Let me only be taken before him," she re plied, "and I will answer before him all I ought to answer.' ' This was too much for the assessor, who quickly passed on to the inscription on one of her rings ; for a trial before the Pope or any one else but Cauchon was the last thing that was desired. Charges Refuted. After the private hearings had been concluded Joan's answers were reduced to formal articles, seventy in number, which was read to her March 24th and 25th. After each she gave her answer, though indeed little is needed to demon strate their falsity, for the extracts from her statements appended as a basis to each are a refutation of the respective charges. In such occupations Holy Week pass ed by ; the first three days of Easter Week were spent in reducing the pon derous process of seventy articles to one of twelve, and this short statement was submitted for their opinion to various learned men and to the University of Paris. From a document so meagre, and, as we now know, so mendacious, no com plete or even fair consideration of the JOAN OF ARC. 531 case was possible, and the inevitable verdict was that for which the Court was striving. The University declared against her on every charge, yet not without so large a use of "if" as to show that the evidence supplied was insufficient. Fortified with this opinion, the Court decided to hasten matters by warning Joan of the peril in which she stood, threatening, if she remained obstinate, to hand her over to the secular power. Accordingly she was called before the Court on May 23rd and informed of the verdict that had been delivered against her, and " charitably " admonished by Pierre Maurice, one of the assessors, who counseled her to retract, if she would save body as well as soul. Sentence Pronounced. Still she stood firm, declaring : " If I was at the judgment and saw the fire kindled and the faggots alight, and the executioner ready to feed the fire, and if I were in the fire, I would not say otherwise ; but I would maintain what I said at the trial, even to death." On the following day she was taken to the cemetery of the Abbey of St. Ouen to hear her sentence. Two scaf folds had been erected, on one of which sat Cardinal Beaufort, Bishop of Win chester, Cauchon, and some of the as sessors, whilst on the other were Joan, her attendants, and Jean Erard, who preached a sermon in which she was denounced as an infamous woman, a witch, and a heretic, and called upon to submit to the judgment of the Church. Cauchon then proceeded to read the sentence, but before it was concluded Joan appears to have professed her wil lingness to sign the abjuration which Erard had caused to be read to her — a short formula of no more than six or seven lines. But an evil trick was played her. Calot, a secretary of Henry VI. , substituted a longer formula, at the bottom of which, being unable to write, she traced a round "O" in place of a signature. A Glaring Fraud. This document was an emphatic re pudiation of all that she had declared in regard to her Voices and revelations, whereas the paper that had been read to her contained nothing to such pur pose. There is, therefore, abundant reason for believing that her alleged abjuration was no abjuration, and was, only obtained by a glaring fraud. It sufficed, however, for the moment to save her from the hands of the execu tioner, and she was again led back to her prison under the charge of the English, who made no attempt to hide their dissatisfaction at the result. "Never mind, we shall have her again," had been the remark of one of the assessors at the close of this scene, and his words were quickly fulfilled. Joan had promised to give up her male attire, and dress as a woman. But she was guarded in her prison by five Eng lish soldiers, two at the door and three in the room with her, and chained as she was to her couch, she was in the gravest danger of insult and injury. On the Sunday following, her woman's dress was taken away and her soldier's clothes put in its stead, and in these she was at last compelled to clothe her self. Yet this act, which had been forced upon her by the necessities of her situation, was siezed upon as a sign of relapse of which her enemies were 532 , JOAN OF ARC. not slow to take advantage — she had re turned to what were considered her old illusions as well as to male attire. On the Monday morning, May 28th, Cauchon and some of his colleagues came to her prison and interrogated her afresh. The clouds that seemed to have momentarily darkened her mind had dispersed, and any fear that might have made her shrink for a moment from a fate so hard to flesh and blood had van ished. Her Voices, she affirmed, were true ; she had never intended to deny them ; and they had since told her that she had done wrong in attempting to save her life by abjuring them. Doom of a Heretic. What she had done was through fear of the fire. She had not intended to re voke anything, except according to God's good pleasure. God had sent her. Yet, if her judges would place her in a safe prison, she would, if they wished it, resume her woman's dress. But it was too late. As a relapsed heretic she must die the death. " Be of good cheer," said Cauchon to the Earl of Warwick as he left the prison ; "it is done." On the following day, May 29th, the Court declared that she must be handed over to secular justice. That was done on Wednesday, May 30th. Early in the morning she had told Cau chon, who visited her : " Bishop, I die through you." An hour or two later she was led out into the old market place of Rouen, after having confessed and received Holy Communion. Three scaffolds had been erected, one for the Bishop of Beauvais and his officials, one for Joan and her attendants, and another on which had been prepared a pile of wood for the burning. These were'surrounded by a body of over eight hundred Eng lish soldiers, who hurried on the pro ceedings by asking surlily whether they were to dine there. The last sermon was preached ; Joan was handed over to secular justice and placed upon the altar of her sacrifice. In answer to her appeal for a cross, an Englishman who was near her made her one from a stick he was carrying, and she kissed it and placed it in her bosom. She asked Massieu, one of the priests of Rouen, that a church cross might be held before her, and he got the clerk of the parish of Saint-Sauveur to bring one. Fastened to the stake, and with the devouring flames surging upon her she continued to pray and affirm the truth of her Voices. Her Last Words. One standing in the heat of the fire, holding the cross before her eyes, caught her last words : "Jesus ! Jesus ! Mary ! My Voices, my Voices !" " Yes," she said again, ' ' my Voices were from God. My Voices have not deceived me." And then came her dying cry that rang through the market-place above the roar of the flames : "Jesus !" Her head dropped, and she was dead. Joan had told her judges that before three months she would be delivered, she knew not how or when. Deliver ance had come through the gates of fire and death, and the people stood around, weeping and aghast at the tragedy that had been enacted. " We are all lost," cried Jean Tressart, one of the King of England's secretaries ; " we have burned a saint." "In regard to final repent ance," says Manchon, the Notary of the trial, " I never saw greater signs of a JOAN OF ARC. 533 Christian. Never did I weep more for anything that happened to me ; and for a month afterwards I could not feel at peace." Some said that they saw her last word, ' Jesus !" written in flame ; another declared that he saw her soul in the form of a white dove soar to heaven. True or false, these stories of signs and wonders could add nothing to the pathos or the horror of the act that had been per petrated. A pure maid had literally been done to death. Maid of Orleans, she was henceforth Maid of all France ; her death had now proclaimed her a martyr to her country's cause at least, if not for the greater cause of God. "Burned a Saint." Her ashes were cast into the Seine, that there might be no relic and no remembrance of her, so far as her mur derers could secure it. But God's ways are not man's ways, and it remains for us to tell how her name has since become as glorious in the annals of France, and of all womanhood, as her career is unparalleled in the history of the world. Joan the Maid was dead, and her ashes were cast into the Seine. But though no memorial of her was left, the wrong that had been wrought upon her was not to be obliterated. Tressart's cry, "We have burned a saint," re echoed in men's ears, and the indigna tion of the people in whose market place she had met her doom was so strong that her murderers could not appear in the streets without being openly reviled. Long afterwards, when the chief actors in the tragedy had passed away, it was told how they had all come to violent ends — how the mitred, yet unvenerable Cauchon had died in a fit of apoplexy, how another was stricken with a loath some leprosy, and how the body of a third was found lying in a gutter at the gates of Rouen. Even after her death Cauchon could not leave her memory to the judgment of posterity ; he had wrested justice at her trial, and, dead, he pursued her with a lying account of a second abjuration on the morning of her execution ; whilst the English sent lying letters to the Pope and through out Christendom, to justify the foul deed that had been wrought by blacken ing the character of the Maid. Then followed the days during which they were being gradually driven out of* France, so that by 1453 nothing re mained to them of the country of which Henry VI. had been crowned King at Paris but the city of Calais, finally lost in the reign of Queen Mary. Her Name Vindicated. Meanwhile no attempt had been made by those in authority to vindicate the memory of the Maid to whom France owed so much, or even to acknowledge the military services she had rendered. But in 1450, the year after the recovery of Normandy, Charles VII. appears to have thought that his position as King over the territory that was being gradually restored to him would be strengthened in the eyes of all if it could be shown that no stigma of witchcraft or heresy could attach to the Maid who had so marvelously carved a way through all difficulties and led him to his anointing. The stain that rested upon her mem ory threw a doubt upon his own ortho doxy and his own right to the throne. 534 JOAN OF ARC. Accordingly, on February 13th, he authorized Guillaume Bouille, one of his counsellors and Rector of the Uni versity of Paris, to conduct an inquiry into the trial undertaken "by our an cient enemies," the English, and to report upon it. Bouille had already written the first memorial ever published in favor of Joan. The inquiry was held at Rouen on March 4th and 5 th, when seven witnesses were examined. Inquiry Suppressed. The depositions were forwarded to the King, but for some reason or other the inquiry was pursued no further. It would seem probable, however, that political motives were at the bottom of the lapse of the investigation. On the one hand there was some fear of arous ing the hostility of England, and on the other there was some delicacy in the pursuit by the sovereign of an attempt to upset the result of proceedings which had received the countenance of the Inquisition and of the University of Paris. It was therefore resolved to reduce it from the proportions of an affair of state to the level of a mere private action by persuading Joan's mother and brothers to appeal to the Pope for a reversal of the judgment. So it came to pass that in 1452 Guillaume d'Estouteville, Car dinal-Bishop of Digne and Legate for Pope Nicholas V- resumed the inquiry at the formal request of Isabel d'Arc. Along with Jean Brehal, Inquisitor of France, the Cardinal held another inquiry at Rouen during the month of April, when the depositions of twenty- one witnesses were taken. Again, how ever, the case was allowed to lapse. But three years afterwards, in 1455, the year of the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses, Pope Calixtus III. , yielding to the persistence of the d'Arc family, granted a rescript by which the Archbishop oi Rheims and the Bishops of Paris and Coutances, associated with Brehal, the Inquisitor, were authorized to proceed to a revision of the trial. The esse was solemnly opened in Notre Dame, at Paris, on November 7th, when Joan's aged mother and brothers presented their petition for " the triumph of truth and justice." Ten days later the Court undertook to hear the appeal against the Judge Cauchon, the Vice-Inquisitor Lemaitre and the Promoter Estivet. Alteration of Evidence. The evidence of the preceding inquir ies having been impounded, the Pro moter of the Revision, on December 20th, formulated the accusation, point ing out that the previous trial had been vitiated by the omission and alteration of evidence, the obvious prejudice of the judges, and the incompetence of the Court. These points were afterwards fully set forth in a document of 10 1 articles. The case was then adjourned in order that inquiries might be made into Joan's life and conduct and her military career. Accordingly, commissioners were sent into the country to take the necessary depositions. At Domremy and Vaucou leurs thirty-four witnesses were heard, at Orleans forty-one, at Paris twenty, at Rouen nineteen, and at Lyons one, Jean d'Aulon, Joan's steward, the most devoted of her followers. Thus was gathered together a mass of evidence by which, as Mr. Douglas Murray says, " posterity has been allowed to see the JOAN OF ARC. 535 whole life of the village Maiden of Domremy, as she was known to her first kinsfolk and her neighbors, and after wards to warriors, nobles, and church men who followed her extraordinary career." The peasants whom she had loved and tended and with whom she had played in girlhood, the priests who had known her as she knelt before the altar and in the confessional, the women with whom she had lodged, the captains and soldiers with whom she had fought, the men who had witnessed her trial and had been present at the last scene in the market-place at Rouen — all told one tale testifying to her goodness, her purity, her love for religion and the Church, her devoted patriotism, her sagacity in council, her courage, and marvelous knowledge of war. Judgment Reversed. To these depositions were added eight memorials drawn up by learned men, and the whole case was then summed up for the guidance of the judges in the " Recollectio " of Jean Brehal, the In quisitor, upon which the final sentence reversing the condemnation pronounced at Rouen was based. The sentence of rehabilitation was pronounced by the Commissioners in the Archbishop's Palace at Rouen, on July 7th. It was a lengthy pronounce ment, in which, after formulating the motives of their decision, the judges declared the twelve articles to be " falsely, caluminously, and deceitfully extracted, and contrary even to the con fessions of the accused." They there fore annihilated and annulled them, and ordered them to be torn up. The pro cesses and sentences, likewise, as being full of "cozenage, iniquity, inconse quences, and manifest errors, in fact as well as in law," were proclaimed " null, non-existent, without value or effect." " Nevertheless," proceeded the judges, "in so far as necessary, and as reason doth command us, we break them, anni hilate them, annul them, and declare them void of effect ; and we declare that Jeanne and her relatives, plaintiffs in the actual process, have not, on account of the said trial, contracted or incurred any mark or stigma of infamy ; we de clare them quit and purged of all the consequences of these same processes ; we declare them, in so far as is necessary, entirely purged thereof by this present." Memorial Cross. This sentence was proclaimed to the world immediately after it had been ratified, first of all, in the square of St. Ouen, after a procession of all the people thither, and the delivery of a sermon. On the following day it was still more solemnly promulgated in the old mar ket-place where Joan had been done to death " by a cruel and horrible fire." Again there was a great procession and a sermon. By order of the Court, too, ' ' a handsome cross for the perpetual memory of the deceased " was, as soon as possible, erected on the spot where the faggots had been piled. The sent ence declaring her innocence was also proclaimed in several of the chief cities of France ; and since that time, with but few interruptions, the citizens of Orleans have, year by year, kept a reli gious festival in honor of the Maid whom they love to think of and claim as their own. Thus through four hundred years has the memory of her life and of what she 536 JOAN OF ARC. did for France been kept green in the hearts of her countrymen. A whole literature sprang up around her name, some of it, unfortunately, to her defa mation — notably, Voltaire's disgraceful attempt to blacken her fair fame, which Southey thanked God he had never committed the crime of reading. Shakes peare, too, must bear a share of the blame that thus attaches to one of her own countrymen. But the truth of her life had been set forth so clearly and so strongly in the depositions of her trial and rehabilita tion that its imperious force silenced all doubts and prevailed over all attacks. Englishmen grew ashamed of the in justice with which their forefathers had pursued her, and Frenchmen came to regard her as the personification of the purest patriotism and saintly living. Joan Canonized. So it came to pass that on May 8, 1869, a petition for her canonization was presented to Pope Pius IX. by twelve Archbishops and Bishops of France. Monseigneur Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans, was instructed to commence the preliminaries of the case in his Episcopal Court. His inquiry lasted from November 2, 1874, to January 28, 1876, and its results having been laid before the Sacred Congregation of Rites, Cardinal Bilio was appointed Proponent of the Cause. Between 1884, when, on Cardinal Bilio's death, Cardinal Howard was nominated as his successor, and 1885, a second inquiry was held at Orleans by Monseigneur CouillS, then Bishop of that city. After a third inquiry into certain miracles which had been vouchsafed through the intercession of the Maid had been completed and the whole case had been duly considered at Rome — a consideration which involved the ex amination of more than six hundred documents — the Sacred Congregation, on January 27, 1894, decided that, sub ject to the approval of the Sovereign Pontiff, the process of the beatification of the glorious Maid should be formally introduced. In the afternoon of the same day the Secretary of the Congre gation, Monsignor Nussi, waited upon Pope Leo XIII., who signed the Decree authorizing the cause to proceed. The Formal Decree. In 1897 a great step was made by the completion of the process of the heroic character of her virtues at Orleans, the thoroughness of which may be judged when it is remembered that it occupied no fewer than one hundred and twenty- two sittings, at which fifty-seven wit nesses were examined. Amongst these were the aged historian M. Wallon, the father of the French Senate; Pere Ayroles, S. J., one of the more recent biographers of the Maid ; and Father Francis Wyndham, of Bayswater, who has done much by a study of the original documents to set forth her true char acter. A " Te Deum " was sung at the close of the last sitting, and in April, 1898, the inquiry into the validity of the Orleans process was opened at Rome. The second sitting was held on March 17, 1903, with Cardinal Ferrata as Pro ponent of the Cause, and Monsignor Lugari as Promotor of the Faith, or "devil's advocate." The third sitting was held in December of the same year, and resulted in a verdict that the Maid had practised the theological virtues of JOAN OF ARC. 537 faith, hope, and charity, and the cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance in an heroic degree. The formal Decree to this effect was solemnly read in the Consistorial Hall of the Vatican on January 6, 1904, in the presence of the Pope and the papal court. His Holiness afterwards declared that Joan was the glory not of France only but of the whole world. The mills of God grind slowly, and in nothing is this more true than in connection with a cause of canoniza tion, but there is now every reason to hope that the day is not far distant when Catholics will be able to hail the poor Maid of Orleans, raised to the altars of the Church, as blessed in heaven, and so to be blessed on earth. Nor will Catholics be alone in their rejoicing that the crown of glory has been set upon the head of the simple Maid whose death was wrought, as Car dinal Manning proclaimed, in " sin and shame." When the Decree for the intro duction of the cause was signed, the " London Times" looking forward to the decision allowing the full honors of sainthood to be paid to her, declared : " When that day comes, even those who deny or deride the claims of Rome to pronounce on such matters at all will allow that few more noble figures have ever been held up to the veneration of their fellows. In the whole history of the Middle Ages there is no story more simple and more splendid, no tragedy more mournful than that of the ' poor little shepherdess,' who by her passion ate faith raised her country from the depths of degradation and dejection, to die the cruellest and most shameful of all deaths at the hands of her enemies. The elevation and the moral beauty of Joan's character have won the hearts of all men." That is finely said, nor is it a solitary saying. Writer after writer has given a similar verdict down to Mr. Douglas Murray, with whose testimony in the closing paragraph of his introduction to# the documents of the trials we cannot better conclude this short sketch of Joan's career: "The Decree of Pope Calixtus has added a true romance to human story. In all that we know of the world's great ones we can find no parallel for the Maid of Domremy. Per haps only in Catholic France was such a heroine possible. Certainly Teutonic Protestantism has as yet given to the world none of the exalted types of radiant and holy women such as those that illuminate Latin Christianity. Whether as a saint or a nation-maker, Jeanne's place in world-history is assured." Mother Mary of St. Euphrasia. By Pr. Robert Eaton. EN years before the French Revolution,there lived at Soullans, a town of La Vendee, a doctor, Jul ius Pelletier by name, an earnest Christian, with his wife Anne Mourain. For some years (178 1 -91) their lives passed in unclouded happiness, and God blest them with seren children. The Revolution then burst forth in its fury, and Monsieur Pelletier moved to the neighboring island of Noirmoutier, where Rose Virginie, the subject of this biography, was born on July 31, 1796. From her parents she learnt lessons of charity, piety, and devotion to the Church. Her heart seemed naturally to go out to all who were suffering. Of an impetuous temperament, she often in dulged in mischievous, though inno cent, acts, but in obedience and affec tion for her parents she was never want ing. She seemed to live in the presence of God, and would roam in the fields to meditate on the works of His hands, while her love of prayer was almost innate. For the day of her First Communion she prepared most carefully, and it seemed to fix her mind on entering the 538 religious life. Her whole character was strong and resolute, and her mother said of her : ' ' Rose will be a real bless ing to our home ; it is wonderful to see her love for religion and for every work of charity." In 1805 Madame Pelletier lost in quick succession three daughters by death, and the next year was left a widow. In these sorrows she was much helped by the affection of her daughter Rose. By the end of 1800, Bonaparte had restored liberty of worship to France, and churches and schools began to rise again. The time had come for think ing of Rose's education, and she was sent in 1808 to a school at Noirmoutier, kept by the Ursuline nuns. She great ly puzzled the Sisters by her mixture of genuine piety and exuberant spirits. " Virginie,' ' said one of them to her, " pay attention, for you will be an angel or a demon." " I shall be a nun," she promptly replied. " I shall have to be thoroughly broken in, but I shall be a nun some day." In 18 10 she returned with her mother to their old home at Soullans, and shortly after was sent for further education to Tours. Little did Rose think as she said goodbye to her mother that they would never meet again in this world. The school at Tours had been carried on by a kind of religious community called " L' Association chretienne," but, in consequence of bad management, it MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 539 was divided into factions. It was now conducted by a Mdlle. de Lignac, who very soon gauged the merits and powers of her new pupil. A lifelong affection grew up between them, and Rose, who had a real thirst for knowledge, made rapid progress. She had a special gift for making peace, and displayed so decided a taste for re ligious knowledge that she was called " The little doctor of divinity." Convent of Our Lady. In June, 1813, Madame Pelletier died, and the following April Mdlle. de Lig nac went to be an Ursuline nun, so that Rose fell under the guardianship of her brother-in-law, M. Marsand. God was taking her friends from her one by one, that He might possess her for Himself the more completely. Her longing for the religious life was intense, and her mind was occupied in trying to ascer tain where she should try her vocation. It would have been only natural had she thought of following Mdlle. de Lignac to the Ursulines, but such an idea seems never to have entered her mind. Close to the "Association chretienne" there stood a convent of Our Lady of Charity,- devoted to the work of the sal vation of souls. Rose had long known this convent by sight, and had learnt almost to love the Sisters. She now felt that God was calling her to that Community. It had been fonnded by the Venerable John Eudes, a missionary priest of the diocese of Bayeux, in the year 1641, for the reclamation of sinners. This holy man devoted his life to labor for the salvation of souls, and at a mission he preached at Caen in 1639, many women were converted by his words. With a view to their persever ance, he established in Caen a House of Refuge, under the title of Our Lady of Charity. To the three ordinary vows he added a fourth, by which the religi ous bound themselves to labor for the salvation of sinners. The first penitents were received in November, 1641, and, after more than twenty years of trial, the Founder obtained, in 1666, from Pope Alexander VII., a Bull of appro bation, which erected the Congregation into a Religious Order. The spirit which the Venerable John Eudes desired to instil into his religious was that of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary burning with love for souls. He was indeed the pioneer of this devo- 1 tion, and was the first to obtain from Rome permission to celebrate the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and in their honor composed many beautiful offices. House of Refuge. It was, then, into the House of Refuge of Our Lady of Charity at Tours that Rose Pelletier decided to seek admis sion, and she applied to her guardian for leave to do so. At first he firmly refused, but later relented, and Rose entered her new home on October 20, 1 814. In deference to the wish of her guardian, she remained a postulant a whole year, studying meanwhile the rules of the Order, and learning the art of dealing with souls. From the first her sound sense and judgment were apparent. At her cloth ing on September 8, 181 5, she wished to take the name Teresa, for to St. Teresa she had a great devotion, but was told to look for a more humble and 540 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. hidden name, and selected that of St. Euphrasia. The novitiate of Sister Mary of St. Euphrasia, was long remembered at Tours. Docile, confiding, affectionate, and grateful, she soon won the esteem of her Mistress of Novices, who said of her : " She will do great things one day, there is something beyond the ordinary about her.' ' Her obedience was perfect, and to this virtue she had ever a special attraction: "I love it so much," she said, "that I only wish to live for it." The chief trial of her novitiate was its comparative inactivity. She yearned to find some scope for her energies, and was on fire to carry the war into the enemy's camp. But at this time the outlet for her activity lay chiefly in in tellectual pursuits, and she devoted much time to the study of Holy Scrip ture. Called Second Mistress. Towards the close of her novitiate, she was brought into closer contact with the penitents, and showed such aptitude and tact in dealing with them that she was appointed their second Mistress. She seemed to understand, as if by in tuition, that to be perpetually lecturing sinners is not the way to convert them." " Such a course of conduct," she said, " can only weary and repel them. The true method is first to gain their affection by kindness and forbearance, thus inducing them to confidence and to a desire to amend their faults. To speak little and to punish little is the secret of ruling." Her Profession took place on the 9th of September 1817, and she was soon made first Mistress of Penitents, though only twenty -one years of age. Her z.eal had now full scope, her one regret being the small number of those under her care. "If we could only have sixty penitents !' ' she would exclaim ' ' How your imagination does run away with you ! " the older Sisters made reply. "It is vain to hope that these wild dreams will ever be realized. You would not talk as you do, if you had lived through the Reign of Terror, and seen what we have seen. ' ' Growth in Virtue. So her life passed on, leaving little to record beyond a daily increase of virtue and many severe interior trials, by which God was preparing her for her future apostolate. In May, 1825, the election of Su periors took place. Though hardly twenty-nine years of age, and no one could be elected Superior under the age of forty, so high was the esteem in which Sister Mary of St. Euphrasia was held, that a dispensation was applied for to Rome and granted, and she was unan imously elected. Her first work was to establish a Community of "Mag- dalens." She had noticed that among the penitents there were many whose conversion to God was sincere and lasting, and who desired to enter the religious state, so that the remainder of their lives might be devoted to penance, prayer and reparation. The Rule forbade their being accepted among the Sisters, and other Com munities seemed unwilling to receive them. Mother St. Euphrasia therefore took the first opportunity to lay before her Council her long-cherished wish, and drew up for the new Community a rule embodying the spirit of St. Teresa, their brown habit ajso resembling that MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 541 of the Carmelites. They earned their livelihood chiefly by needlework, and passed long hours in silence and prayer. Under the charge of Mother St. Euphrasia, the Community at Tours as sumed a new aspect. The buildings were enlarged and the penitents increased considerably in number, and surpassed the sixty she had so desired. The ex traordinary merit of this humble re ligious soon spread beyond the convent walls, and many came to ask her advice, to implore her prayers, and to profit by the strength and consolation which she imparted to all. In 1828 she was re elected Superior, and again turned her thoughts to the extension of the Order. Her Wisdom and Zeal. A House of Refuge for Angers had long been planned and needed. Its bishops and clergy much desired one, and money had been left for the purpose. It was decided to entrust it to the care of religious, and Mother St. Euphrasia was named as a suitable person to whom to apply. The Abbe Breton accordingly set out for Tours in May 1 829, and, without divulging the object of his visit) carefully inspected the Refuge there. Delighted with all he saw, and much struck by the wisdom and zeal of Mother St. Euphrasia, he at length told her the object of his visit. Her joy knew no bounds. " I fancied myself already in heaven," she said. No time was lost. The very next day she set out with one of her nuns and the Abb6 Breton, to inspect the premises selected for the work. As she beheld Angers for the first time, she was deeply moved. Before they reached the city, M. Breton alighted from the carriage, and invited the nuns to do the same, bluntly remarking. "My dear ladies, you desire to be followers of the Apostles, and yet you think of entering Angers otherwise than on foot." Penitents Admitted. The proposed purchase at Angers had been an extensive factory ; the grounds were isolated, and contained gardens and buildings of various sizes. Mother St. Euphrasia saw at a glance how suited they were to the needs of the work, and requested the purchase might be com pleted without delay. She returned to Tours to make all arrangements, but soon was back in Angers with five Sisters. . At first their poverty was great and the buildings were in bad repair, but nothing daunted the courage of Mother St. Euphrasia, who, by her hopefulness in times of difficulty gained the name of Madame de V Esperance. The work steadily progressed, and soon some peni tents applied for admission. In July the new home was blest, the enclosure es tablished, and Mother St. Euphrasia felt she could return to Tours. Yet she seemed to know instinctively that Angers was her home. " I believe it is the will of God that I should not be any where except at Angers." With her departure from Angers, how ever, a period of stagnation set in. The necessary repairs were stopped, and the zeal of benefactors grew cold. At this juncture, M. DuiStre, Superior of the Refuge at Tours, came to preach the Lenten sermons in the Cathedral at Angers. He visited the Refuge and promised to grant the penitents any reasonable request they should make to him, if he considered their conduct 542 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. satisfactory during a retreat he proposed to give them. " Send our dearest mother back to us : let Mother St. Euphrasia return to Angers," was the cry of all, and so M. Dufetre wrote to her (March, 183 1 :) "The Home stands greatly in need of you : it is capable of wide development.'' Her time of office at Tours expired in 1 83 1, and she was elected Superior of Angers. The separation from Tours meant real sorrow to her, and a depression of spirit came over her from a feeling she would never return. A New Chapel. " I was," she said, " on the point of abandoning my plan, when I was told that a priest wished to speak to me." This holy man, sent to her from God, encouraged her with the words, " Set out for Angers as soon as possible. God intends a great work shall be accom plished there through you, for the pro motion of His glory." In a few months, indeed, the convent assumed a fresh aspect. A new chapel was opened, and extensions of various kinds were made in the Home. She now added what is known as the " Preser vation ' ' class, for the care of young girls as yet innocent, but exposed to danger in the world. Yet, while extending the work of the Order, she sought above all to cultivate the interior spirit of the Rule among her Community. ' ' We cannot exhort you too much, my dear daughters, ' ' she said, ' ' to observe your Rule with a large and generous heart. Do not seek to know if what is ordered be great or little ; let it suffice you to know that God wills it.'' With the increase of work came an inevitable increase of trial. " Every thing seems to go wrong just now," she wrote ; "every hour brings me some un welcome news. The building has come to a standstill, the cost will be enormous, every post brings me disagreeable letters, and temptations seem rife among the penitents. As to the poor imperfect Superior, she has a slight attack of fever. Oh, my God, how dark and thick are the clouds which have gathered over this house ! " Always Cheerful. But no one could have known this from her outward deportment ; she was always bright, and when especially so, her children would say : " Our Mother has some serious anxiety weighing upon her." Still the establishment at Angers made substantial progress. ' ' It has been watered with our tears, " she wrote, ' ' but faith teaches us that the more we suffer, the more God is glorified, and this thought avails to soothe the keenest sorrow." It was at this time that the first idea of the Generalate came to her. The houses of Our Lady of Charity were all isolated, and the work was thereby much hindered in its growth. The idea of a mother- house, with a novitiate, whence offshoots could be planted in other lands, while still remaining under the jurisdiction of a Superior-General, strongly appealed to her. It was indeed the desire of her heart and the burden of her prayers, for she saw a full harvest of good as the result of such a step. She realized that such houses become as members of one body, all animated by the same spirit, rivalling each other in observance of the Rule. The success of one is a joy to all, the sorrows of one are shared by all. MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 543 She spoke of her design to the Bishop of Angers, who warmly approved of it, as also did the Sisters when the scheme was laid before them. She ordered that for two years an Antiphon of Our Lady should be daily chanted to ascertain the will of God on this point. But the idea met with great opposi tion from other houses of the Order; it was styled an innovation and ascribed to the ambition of Mother St. Euphrasia. Three of the Sisters at Angers returned to Tours disapproving of the change, and the Archbishop of Tours threatened to recall the Superior, and even went tc Angers for the purpose of crushing her proposal. On demanding an interview with Mother St. Euphrasia, she declined to see him except in presence of her own Bishop and of her Council. The inter view began in anger but ended peace fully, for all spoke warmly in her defence, and the Archbishop renounced all claim to her obedience. Answer to Prayer. But was the Generalate truly God's will ? Mother St. Euphrasia consulted holy men and placed the matter in the hands of Our Lady, saying, ' ' My tender Mother, if this work is for the glory of your Divine Son and the sal vation of souls, bought with His Pre cious Blood, deign to take it under your protection, to hide it in your heart, and to grant it success." And she asked as a sign from heaven that vocations might be multiplied, which prayer was granted in a very strik ing degree. Moreover, news came from Rome that the project was well received, and would be laid before the Holy Father at the next meeting of Cardinals. | About this time (1833), fresh houses were opened at Mans, Poitiers, and Gre noble, and in 1834, Mother St. Euphra sia was re-elected Superior for six years. Heavy trials were now in store for her. The first blow came from Mans, whose chaplain, finding the mother-house would not be fixed there, began to op pose the idea of the Generalate, thus spreading diaffection among the nuns. Harmless Accusers. Renewed hostility came from Tours, the Archbishop having written to Rome to protest against the proposed change. But from Mother St. Euphrasia no un kind word ever came, nor was the peace of her soul disturbed. " I know well," she wrote, "how many pens are em ployed against me, but infinitely rather would I be the accused than the ac cuser. Pray that I may live on the Cross, and feed myself on suffering, that I may die to everything except the Cross." Before long she felt moved to apply formally to the Holy See for the official recognition of the Generalate. ' ' One day during Vespers," she wrote, "at the Magnificat, the impulse to write be came so irresistable that I could not repress my emotion. I begged one of the Sisters to take my place, for tears choked my utterance. Leaving the choir, I took refuge in my cell, and there, with trembling hand, began to write to the Cardinal Vicar at Rome, beginning with the words : ' Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to Thy Word.' " I felt such alarm at the step I was taking, that hardly knowing what terms to use to express my submission, I ended thus : ' I prostrate myself in 544 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. the dust at your feet (I wrote upon my knees) and desire only the greater glory of God. If the Sovereign Pontiff and your Eminence see obstacles to the ap pointment of a General Superior, I submit most humbly to your decision. "Many trials followed this step, and some time afterwards a very extraordi nary thing happened to me. One night, hardly had I fallen asleep, when I seemed to behold a prelate who was un known to me ; he was dressed as a Cardinal, his countenance was gentle and holy, his whole appearance inspired respect and veneration. He said, ' Fear not, my daughter, your work will be ap proved ; I am chosen by God to be its protector.' He then disappeared, leav ing me comforted and full of confi dence. My astonishment was indeed great some years later, on my visit to Rome, when I recognized at once in Cardinal Odescalchi the very Prelate who had appeared to me. Words of Encouragement. " I related my dream to him. After some reflection, he replied, ' This is re- rmarkable ; I will tell you what hap pened to me also. For some time I had been anxiously looking for a Congre gation to take charge of houses of detention for women. Your letter came on the Annunciation, just after I had said Mass in St. Peter's, to obtain this grace through Our Lady's interces sion." Mother St. Euphrasia patiently await ed an answer to her letter to Rome, and after two months received some words of encouragement from Cardinal Odescalchi. " The greatest impediment to the success of your scheme," he wrote, " is the opposition of the clergy. This will have weight with the Holy See, but can be overcome if your Bishop will at once write to the Holy Father on your behalf. On the receipt of his letter, I will lay your request before the proper tribunal, and soon the matter will be decided." The Mother-House. Indeed it was now taken up at Rome in earnest, especially by Father Khol- mann, S. J., then Consultor to the Con gregation of Bishops and Regulars. The Bishop of Angers wrote strongly in favor of the Generalate, and on the 8th of January, 1835, a decree was passed establishing the convent at An gers as the mother-house of the Insti- stute, the Superior of that convent be ing declared Superior General of all others that had been, or might be, founded from it. The distinctive name of the Congre gation was henceforth to be that of "Our Lady of Charity of the Good Shepherd," and to this the words "of Angers" were added, to remind the foundations whence they came, and where their obedience was due. This decree was approved and confirmed by Pope Gregory XVI. on January 16th. Father Kohlmann objected to the clause empowering the Superior-General to found refuges as extending only to France, and pleaded the substitution of the words, "the whole world." " It seems," observed Cardinal Odes calchi, with a smile, "you want to make a second Society of Jesus of this Congregation. " " Exactly, ' ' replied Father Kohlmann. " It shall be so, " answered the Cardinal, " for indeed this work deserves to be universal." Through all these months of trial, MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 545 the charity of Mother St. Euphrasia was as striking as her courage. All manner of evil was spoken against her and against her project, yet in her let ters to Rome not one word of blame to her opponents can be traced, so that when Father Kohlmann had read the whole case through, he exclaimed, " That is where the the truth lies." Happy News. The reception of the news at Angers is thus described by one of the Sisters : "We were all assembled in Chapter, when our dear Mother came and bade us go in silence to the Choir, where a letter from Rome would be read to us. Kneeling in the presence of our Divine Lord, we listened to the happy news with glad hearts. " It was impossible to restrain our tears now that the consummation of our cher ished hopes had really come. Our vene rated Superior-General intoned a psalm of thanksgiving, then we recited the Sub tuum praesidium, and made a vow to have a procession in honor of Our Lady daily for nine days, and to recite the office of the Immaculate Conception for three years. " But the decree, though approved, was not promulgated, and fresh efforts were made by those antagonistic to the scheme. The Pope even ordered the postponement of the Brief confirming the degree, awaiting fresh inquiries. At length he asked, ' ' How many letters have been written against Mother St. Euphrasia ?" " Thirteen, " was the reply. " And what has she said in her own de fence ?" rejoined the Holy Father. " Not a single word. " " Then, " said the Pope, " she is in the right ; I will at once con firm the degree by an Apostolic Brief." 35-C F Vol. 2 The Brief, dated April 3, 1835, was forwarded to Mother St. Euphrasia, and the Congregation was placed under the jurisdiction of the Holy See, with Car dinal Odescalchi as its Protector. ' ' Your work," wrote Father Kohlmann, " ap pears to be essentially the work of God. The rapidity with which the Order has spread is miraculous, so too is the speed with which this affair has been conducted at Rome. What would ordi narily have taken three or four years to accomplish, has been finished within the space of as many months, despite the opposition of powerful enemies. This will teach you to face the future with confidence, trusting entirely in Him who has seen fit to bless your work thus • abundantly." Success in Unity. We may see from this that the Con gregation is not a new Order, but the extension and development of the one founded by Father Eudes. Hence Mother St. Euphrasia would never allow the title of Foundress to be given to her. No motive of ambition had moved her to affect the change in the Order ; her only object had been to facilitate the develop ment of its work throughout the world, and to infuse into it that vigor which unity alone can ensure. " You will now go forth, my daugh ters," she said, "and pitch your tents from one end of the earth to the other. Your zeal must comprise all lands and all peoples. I do not wish any longer to be called French ; I am Italian, Eng lish, German, Spanish ; I am American, African, Indian; every country is my own, where there are souls to be saved." She was most careful to foster a love for the mother house in all her subjects, 546 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. and made much of regular and frequent correspondence between it and its de pendencies. She desired circular letters should be sent annually by the various houses to serve as a sort of conversation between the Sisters. Consecrated Penitents. " I call them Christmas flowers," she said ; " December and January are the springtime of our year in the Good Shepherd. We then walk up and down the meadows of the Order, and gather flowers whose fragrance will stimulate our zeal." Her interest in all new Foundations was also very great. "I am determined to support and encourage our new foundations," she wrote, "the mother-house cannot do too much for them." In 1835 she formed the class known as the "Consecrated Penitents," for those who, while dreading to return to the world, and having no wish to join the " Magdalens," desired to remain always with the Good Shepherd. After due probation, they consecrate themselves to God, by a simple vow, renewed each year, to remain in the house for that space of time ; at the end of this proba tion they receive a silver cross. Besides giving them a special dress, Mother St. Euphrasia drew up for them a Rule, and in the following beautiful formula expressed her wishes and hopes regarding this class of her children : " Penitent souls, who dwell in forgetful- ness of the world, fortunate sheep, whom the Good Shepherd has sought with solic itude, and who have responded to His call, may you never wander from the safe and tranquil path into which Provi dence has guided your steps. Continue by the observance of your Rule to walk in the way that leads to the heavenly country. Your perseverance is our great est consolation." ' ' You will be the glory of the Insti tute, and having enjoyed here below the peace and happiness, which are found in the practice of humility, obedience and charity, you will go to receive from a generous Father the Kingdom He has promised to the penitent no less than to the innocent." The influence of these consecrated penitents on those who have more recently entered the house is ex cellent, and they are a great help to the Sisters in maintaining a high tone among their companions. Arrival of Prisoners. In this year also a number of young girls arrived at the convent of Angers, who had been sent to prison. Mother St. Euphrasia gladly accepted the re formatory work suggested to her, and her efforts in that direction proved suc cessful. Though her financial difficulties were great, yet she was always contented, and ready to commence fresh founda tions. In 1836 houses were founded at Amiens, Lille, and Puy, and the follow ing year at Strasbourg, Rheims, Sens, and Aries. But her long-standing wish was now to be fulfilled by a foundation in Rome itself. She started with five sisters for Rome in April, 1838. As she obtained a distant glimpse of the Eternal City, she alighted and kissed the soil, which had been watered with the blood of countless martyrs. She soon gained an influence for good over the handful of penitents already collected to welcome her. To her administrative ability and in sight into character, she united a rare MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 547 tact, which stood out clearly in her deal ings with penitents. She never, for ex ample, spoke of penance on a day when dinner had not been quite as good as usual. Rather, she would say, "Dear children, I wish we had something bet ter to set before you, I really am very sorry. ' ' Like St Philip Neri, she won souls to God, and impressed upon her daughters the need of kindness, especially with penitents newly arrived from the world, for ' ' their tears are always bitter, and if they do not find in you great kindness, they may fall into despair. Show them what virtue really is, and vice will soon become odious in their sight.' ' Praise from the Pope. An audience with Pope Gregory XVI. was soon granted to Mother St. Euphra sia. "Here is my Good Shepherd," he said, as Cardinal Odescalchi introduced the Sisters ; and then spoke of their In stitute, of the difficulties they had sur mounted, of the good they had done, of the benefits society would receive by the multiplication of their foundations, and promised them that in him they should always find a protector. After a second audience, Mother St. Euphrasia bade farewell to the Sisters and returned to Angers. A second house at Rome was estab lished soon after, and was visited by Mother St. Euphrasia in the year' 1843. But now an unforseen trial came to her. Cardinal Odescalchi, who had been so true a friend to the Good Shepherd, un expectedly entered the Jesuit novitiate, and in July, 1839, Mgr. Montault, Bishop of Angers, died at the age of eighty-five. He was a friend to the last. When his strength was failing he paid a fare well visit to the convent. ' ' I feel my course is nearly run," he said. "When you hear the bell announcing that I am in my agony, pray for the poor Bishop of Angers, that the Supreme Judge of all men may deign to show him mercy.' ' Progress of the Work. Still the work progressed. At Angers there were now 130 novices, to whom the Mother-General addressed many fer vent discourses. "Ever bear in mind that the love of souls is the only founda tion upon which our Order rests, and only by this love can it be maintained. We ought to have an appreciative love for souls. The Saints loved souls be cause they were purchased at the cost of our Saviour's blood." "They appreciated at its true value the soul of a poor, ragged gutter child, full of faults, the soul of a great sinner, of a poor penitent, because these souls are the objects of God's love, and Our Lord shed His Blood for their redemp tion. Yes, we will bring back to Him some of the souls so precious to Him." " Take this child and nurse it for me' ' (Exod. x. 9), was the summary of her life and spirit. But she knew that un less the instrument be in good condition, it can effect but little. Hence she laid such stress on holiness of life, prayer and self-denial." "Our Lord in his mercy has given you this sublime vocation; show Him your gratitude; never cease to pray, to fight, to suffer, in order to carry out this vocation of love. Religious perfection does not consist in having no defects ; it consists in this, that having once been told of a fault, we should strive at once to correct it. Believe me, if ever the love of the Cross and the desire for self- 548 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. denial disappear from amongst us, the hour of our dissolution is near at hand. Early in the year 1840, Mother St. Euphrasia began a visitation of all her houses, for the work was spreading in every direction, but ill-health forced her to abandon the project and return to Angers. King Louis I. of Bavaria now desired that a Home of the Good Shep herd should be established in his capital, and placed a house with extensive grounds in the suburbs of Munich at the disposal of the Sisters. A Plentiful Harvest. Considerable opposition to the founda tion was made by Protestants and others, but Mother St. Euphrasia knew that success would eventually follow. " There is promise of a plentiful harvest at Munich, that is why the enemy of all good has sown his cockle. But the Master of the harvest slumbers not, let us therefore take courage." The founda tion did indeed prosper, and very soon the Mother-General could write of it : ' ' My beloved Bavarian, we shall not lose you after all." In no case was a foundation made in face of greater difficulties than the first made in England. In May, 1840, two Sisters were sent from Angers to London, where they were kindly received by Bishop Griffiths, Vicar Apostolic, who gave them permission for a foundation, but could promise them no pecuniary help. The first check, however, came from Angers, whose new Bishop refused to allow Mother St. Euphrasia to incur the expense of the foundation out of her own means. She instantly recalled the two Sisters, who returned to Angers, accompanied by six English postulants. In Sep tember, more postulants arrived from England with renewed requests for an English foundation. The Bishop of Angers at last gave his consent, and in November two Sisters with an English postulant were again sent to this country. Black but Beautiful. They were obliged to lay aside their white habits, and to put on an ordinary black dress, but their Mother consoled them with the words : Nigra sum, sed formosa:,'> (Cant. i. 4) "I am black, but beautiful.'' Mother Mary of St. Joseph Regaudiat was the Sister in charge of the enterprise, and started with $200 for England. On arriving in London, they found a dense fog hang ing like a pall over the city, and the following day on going to visit a priest at Chelsea, M. Voyaux by name, who had encouraged the project much and promised help, they found him laid out for burial. Their companion, M. l'Abbe Maingay, was of little use to them, for he could speak no English, and his costume was so remarkable as to provoke laughter rather than sympathy. Arrayed in a bright green coat with brass buttons, a waistcoat of crimson, and armed with a large map of London, he would stand still in the crowded streets to open the map and study the road, putting his huge umbrella under his arm, to the great annoyance of the passers-by. In despair, he soon returned to Angers, and the Sisters were left alone. At length in May, 1841, they took a small house in King Street, Hammer smith, for the reception of penitents. Hearing of their trials, Mother St. Euphrasia commended the foundation specially to Our Lady, since England is MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 549 her dowry, and said the Memorare daily for a year for the success of the London house. " I regard the London convent as our daughter," she wrote ; "it may be a great expense to provide for her, but we must not abandon her." Sacrament Hidden. In June the two first penitents were received, and their number rapidly in creased until it became necessary to pro cure a larger house. A property called Beauchamp Lodge was secured, a chapel erected, and a laundry built, and now some 230 Magdalens and penitents form the usual number resident. Thus has God blest the humble beginning and labor of Mother Mary of St. Joseph. In 1851 a foundation was made at Dalbeth, near Glasgow, and another at Arno's Court, near Bristol. In 1858 a house was opened in Liverpool, and in 1864 that of East Finchley. These were followed by a foundation in Man chester in 1867, and. one at Cardiff in 1872, and there are also houses at New castle-upon-Tyne and Ashford in Mid dlesex, with prospects of yet further foundations. In 1844 Mother St. Euphrasia visited Hammersmith. She was much grieved not to find the Blessed Sacrament in the Catholic chapels of London. " We en tered a church," she wrote, "and were pained to miss the lamp before the Altar. ' Where art Thou hidden, O my Lord and Maker ? ' I inquired, and the priest who was showing us over the church seemed to guess what was in my mind, for he said, ' The Blessed Sacra ment is not here. We are compelled to keep It in hiding, like an outlaw.' ' And yet, Father,' I answered, ' who but Our Lord can be King in the Island of Saints?' Then he took us into the sacristy, where a lamp, burning before an oaken chest, revealed the humble abode of the King of Kings. I fell on my knees and promised Him that I would cause beautiful temples to be raised to His honor throughout the land." To the Blessed Sacrament she had in deed a tender devotion. It was at once the source and fruit of her union with God, which with her was no mere figure of speech, but a reality, for she seemed to feel the eye of God and to look for the movement of His hand. Her letters and instructions abound with beautiful passages on the Blessed Sacrament. Hours in Prayer. Never would she allow weariness or pain to keep her from Holy Commu nion, and often spent many hours in prayer before the Tabernacle, always kneeling, and so motionless that not a fold of her mantle was stirred. " I will consult Our Lord concerning this affair during my thanksgiving to-morrow," was a saying frequently on her lips. In 1 84 1 a foundation was made at Paris, to be soon followed by the intro duction of the Good Shepherd into the New World. Bishop Flaget of Mon treal, having visited Angers and been much pleased with the work of Mother St. Euphrasia, desired the presence of her Order in America, and five Sisters soon started for Louisville. They per severed through many hardships until their work took root, so that not only at Louisville, but also at Montreal, New Orleans, Chicago, Cincinnati, and Bal timore, was the Good Shepherd to be found. In 1842, when Mother St. Euphrasia was setting out to start a new founda- 550 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. tion at Angouleme, the carriage in which she was seated, upset, only a few yards from the convent. Mother St. Euphrasia, badly bruised and shaken, was unable to resume her journey for some days, and indeed never fully re covered from the accident. It was quite unaccountable, for the carriage was a good one and the road quite level ; it could only have been, as the Bishop of Angouleme suggested, an attempt from the devil to frustrate the good about to be accomplished by the Good Shepherd in his city. A Shabby Dwelling. The following year (1843) an appeal for a foundation from the Bishop of Algiers met, of course, with a ready re sponse from Mother St. Euphrasia. The religious entrusted with this work took up their abode in a shabby dwelling at Mustafa, outside Algiers, and soon death carried off one of their number. But a fresh house near Algiers was soon opened, and gave shelter to upwards of 300 young girls. In Cairo, besides two houses of peni tents and Magdalens, the Sisters opened a school for poor children of every tribe and religion, where little Turks, Jews, Syrians, Arabs, Ethiopians, Copts, Ar menians, and Greeks thronged for in struction, no less than 600 children of fifteen different nationalities. A founda tion was also made at Oran, where many Mussulman girls were ready for the care of the Good Shepherd. The storm of revolution which broke out in France in 1848, greatly affected the work of the Order. The convent at Bourges was wrecked and the nuns driven out; Macon fared but little better, while Lyons barely escaped. But Mother St. Euphrasia never lost heart. She addressed circular letters to the Superiors of all her convents, full of practical advice, admonishing them to aim at retaining possession of the houses, but to adopt without scruple a secular dress, if necessary. Her letter to the Superior at Munich gives a vivid pic ture of the state of affairs. Great Misfortunes. "Lord, save us; we perish," she writes. " Our Divine Master sleeps in our storm-tossed vessel. Words fail to tell you the extent of our misfortunes, for they are beyond description. The whole Church is now in affliction ; if as yet your tranquility is undisturbed, may it remain so ! We pray constantly for you. Angers is Mary's favored city ; our Sion is at peace, honored and loved by all, but her tribes are dispersed, her virgins are wanderers and exiles, their dwellings are pillaged and destroyed by fire. Our Sisters come to us here ; they have not bread to eat. We number several hundred here, without work, without alms or benefactors, yet peace and concord reign in our midst. ' ' Some 400 penitents have been turned out of different houses ; the property lost, stolen or burnt, may be estimated at 500,000 francs (#100,000;) sixty of our professed nuns have been banished ; they come to us at all hours of the day and night. You would be touched were you to see the obedience and humility of our Sisters. Their tears flow freely, but they are tears of resignation. I have not a word of reproof to utter, but oh ; the burden of care that weighs upon me. My God, come to my aid ! Thanks be to God, the regularity and order of our house is perfect. This is due to MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 551 Our Lady's wise government. Our choir and singing are beautiful ; our buildings and the farms annexed are unequalled anywhere.' ' Again, in an address to the Com munity at the end of 1848, she thus spoke of the severity of the recent trials : "This year has been for us one of suffering and of progress. It is well for a religious Order to be thus tried from time to time, to impart fresh stimulus to it, and prevent it from de clining in fervor. You have taken your stand on Mount Calvary ; learn upon that high ground so firmly to plant your feet, that the wrongs men may do you, may have no power to make you swerve. ' !The White Sisters." In spite of all obstacles, the work of the Good Shepherd grew apace. Houses were opened at Turin and Genoa, and a beginning was made in Austria in 1853 by a foundation at Vienna, which pros pered wonderfully, numbering 450 in mates in a few years. In 1848 Ireland received the Good Shepherd by opening a house at Limer ick, and before long Waterford, New Ross, Belfast, and Cork had houses planted in their midst. In 1854 an in vitation came to found a house at Ban galore in India, and a company of Sisters set out. Becalmed at sea and suffering much on the voyage, no news of the little band reached Angers for six months, but on arrival they were warmly welcomed, re ceiving the nam e of the " White Sisters, ' ' and at once opened a school for native children of the poorer class and another for European girls. In 1 85 5 a first foun dation was made in South America. Thus the work of the Good Shepherd increased and multiplied in spite of difficulty and opposition. New houses were opened, old ones were consolidatedj and day by day the wisdom of Mother St. Euphrasia in establishing the Gen eralate was more apparent, and seemed blest by God with a rich blessing. From the center at Angers branches spread into every land, all united in one great work, all looking for help and direction to the mother-house. Golden Jubilee. The Golden Jubilee of Mother St. Euphrasia' s profession was celebrated with great rejoicing and no pains were spared to mark the day, but joy proved to be the prelude to sorrow, for it ushered in a period of trial and pain, which death alone should close. The attacks made upon the Papal territories placed several of the convents in Italy in great danger, and her own enemies were again active. Seeing fresh foundations arise on all sides, they drew up a memorial to Pius IX., accusing her of tyranny, pride and hypocrisy, and demanded the appoint ment of an Apostolic Visitor, with full power to examine the Community at Angers, since Mother Euphrasia had, so they said, refused to tolerate any eccle siastical Superior. That the examin ation should be properly made, she her self was to quit the house for a period of at least four months. The Pope ordered the Cardinal Pro tector to reply that no complaint had been proffered against Mother St. Eu phrasia ; rather, that she was beloved by all her religious children, and he refused absolutely to send her away from Angers- Throughout this painful affair, no word of bitterness came from Mother St. 552 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. Euphrasia, and she forgave her enemies from her heart. But it told severely on her health, and in May, 1867, she was attacked by pneumonia, and, though she recovered, it was but a temporary restor ation. The end was drawing near, and a year of sharpest pain was to fit her for her last journey to God. Acute Suffering. The carriage accident which Mother Euphrasia met with in October, 1842, to which reference has been made, caused a cancerous tumor which for years gave her acute suffering. She never spoke of this to any one, but finally it brought her to the grave. Indeed, half a century of labors such as hers might of themselves have broken down the most vigorous constitution, without the ravages of a cruel malady. During the last three years of her life, her strength was gradually giving way, though she was present at all Community duties, but her mental powers remained unimpaired to the last. Thus she con tinued, until one day, about March, 1868, she fell into a swoon so deep and pro longed that it appeared almost like death. On the 13th of March, the feast of her Patroness, she received the good wishes of her children, and for the last time sat at her table in the refectory. On March 14th she went round the grounds for the last time, pausing at the Calvary, and on reaching the chapel of the Immaculate Conception, she said, " I wish to go and pay a visit to Our Lady on foot." With difficulty she left her chair, and dragged herself to the Altar, where she remained on her knees for some time. She concluded her ex cursion by visiting the statue of St. Joseph. "St. Joseph, royal and power ful Protector of the work of the Good Shepherd," she said, " pray to Jesus and Mary for us." Her weakness rapidly increased, but she remained at her post, and would not even see a doctor. " St. Joseph can cure me," she repeated; "I know that nothing short of a miracle is required." When entreated not to rise so early, she said, " Would you deprive me of my only privilege, that of receiving Holy Com munion ? The Blessed Sacrament is my life. It is the life of my life. Ah ! what would have become of me these last two years, had I not been sustained by the Bread of the strong." Led to the Altar. On the 25th of March, she presided at the setting out from Angers of some Sisters who were to make a foundation in Switzerland, though it cost her an almost superhuman effort to lead them to the altar of Our Lady in the com munity-room. Four days later, the morning of Passion Sunday, she rose to hear Mass and to receive Holy Com munion. It was the last time she knelt in her place in choir. Suffering and exhausted, she came to the midday recreation, [a point of rule to which she held very much. "Do not try to prevent me," she would say, " my great enjoyment is the company of my children." Later in the day, she dictated a letter sanction ing the foundation of St. Paul, in the United States, but returning to her room, she said, " O Jesus, I have seen my dear children for the last time." On March 31st a doctor was called in and gave but slight hopes of recovery. Her sufferings increased daily, yet she interested herself keenly in the work MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 553 of the Institute ; she summoned her Council to discuss the foundation at Aden, and chose the Sisters to be sent there ; she also made arrangements for several other houses, and almost daily received Holy Communion. On Friday in Passion Week, the Feast of Our Lady's Compassion, she grew much worse. It was a day of agonizing pain, which nothing could relieve. "Thy WiU be Done." She received Holy Communion as Viaticum, and then was gladdened by good news of the house at Algiers, which had lately occasioned her some little anxiety. "You have no idea," she said, how much I have endured on account of that house. I believe it is costing me my life. Were I not so great a sinner, I should be tempted to believe that Our Lord had chosen me as an expiatory victim. But I am not worthy to be made a victim for so great a work." In the midst of her pain she often said, " May Thy Will, O my God, be done in me, and through me, and by me, forever ! That is my sole desire." She had a special devotion to the Feast of Our Lady's Compassion. "It is a singular thing," she said, "Our Lady of Dolours usually brings me consolation, while on her Assumption, she bestows upon me nothing but crosses." To-day, however, she could only say, ' ' This is a true Passion Week ; it is evident Our Lady wishes me to stand beside her on Calvary. I feel I am gradually passing away." The next day she received Extreme Unction with great joy, and also Holy Viaticum; The Community were pres ent, and before receiving the Sacred [ Host, she held up her hand, as a sign she wished to speak. In a low but clear voice she renewed her vows, and then said, " I ask pardon of the Com munity and of the Congregation for the pain and scandal I have given. I for give with all my heart all who have ever given me pain. My Community has always afforded me the greatest satisfaction. '' The sobs of those around her bed cut short her words, and she only added, "I declare that I die a child of the Holy Catholic Church, Roman and Apostolic." Forgive and Forget. After receiving Holy Communion, she remained for some time motionless, with closed eyes. A respite from pain seemed granted her, of which she took advantage to deliver a last instruction to her children. " Cultivate unity among yourselves," she said, "and if you have little differences, try to for give and forget. Love your Institute, do all in your power to extend and strengthen it. Be ever loyal to Rome, to the Holy Father, to our Cardinal Protector. My devotion to Rome has cost me many trials and crosses, and has involved me in many difficulties, but now that I am dying, how I rejoice to think that I persevered in it ! Love Rome ; there is the center of light, the pillar of fire which enlightens the whole world. You will find no better Father than the Sovereign Pontiff, and, after him, our Cardinal Protector." Then raising her hands to heaven, she blessed all her converts, saying, ' ' Tell all who are absent and far away that I bless them all, and embrace them with the fondest affections." It was the will of God that she should 554 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. linger almost three weeks longer, during which her agony never ceased, yet she " praised, glorified, and blessed God in the midst of the furnace, saying, ' O ye fire and heat, bless the Lord, praise Him and exalt Him above all for ever." Divine Support. She said, " I desire to fall into no sin during this illness," and often added, " My God, Thou art my all ; O Jesus, be Thou the breath of my life ! Thou art my strength, I look to Thee alone for support ; I bear the marks of the Lord Jesus in my body. Suffering has been offered to me, and I have accepted it. I am covered with wounds, but in these wounds I have found life. My soul is at peace, for I feel my God is within me and suffering with me." She wished her last resting-place to be within the enclosure, and said one day to the Sister Assistant, " When it shall have pleased God to call my spirit to Himself, I should like my remains to be placed in the chapel of the Im maculate Conception. I am very fond of that chapel, and when there I shall be in the midst of our various estab lishments. The Magdalens, the Peni tents and the children will be able to go and pray there. " She did not actually name her suc cessor, but allowed it to be understood that her choice was fixed upon Mother Mary of St. Peter de Coudenhove, who for nine years had been first Assistant General. On Wednesday in Holy Week, she sent a message to the Community, tell ing them she would unite herself with them in all the Offices, and added an injunction to observe every detail marked in the directory. For nearly a fortnight after Palm Sunday, frequent attacks of sickness made it impossible to give her Holy Communion. She felt the privation keenly, yet submitted to it with perfect resignation. "Dear children," she would say, " God is purifying me. I unite my will to His. I adore His all-wise purposes. In His justice, He is laying a cross on my shoulders. ' ' On Maundy Thursday she said, ' ' Since I entered the religious life this is the first time I have been unable to receive the Bread of Angels on this day." On Good Friday her sufferings became yet more agonizing, and she ardently desired to die that day. Easter Sunday. " How thankful I should be to God, if He would call me to Himself to-day ! I cannot be present at the Offices of the Church, but will you please remind me of each hour as it passes, that I may follow Our Lord in His Passion, and be the companion of the Mother of Sor rows. If we die with Jesus Christ, we shall rise with Him." She spoke little through the day, but her few sentences showed she was following our Lord in spirit through His sufferings. On the morning of Easter Sunday she said, "Our Lord has risen again, and I am still left standing on Calvary. What an Easter morning for me ! I cannot even receive Holy Communion, but may God's will be done ! " Later in the day she fell into a swoon so pro longed that the Sisters feared her last hour had come. After one of these fainting fits, which became frequent as the end drew near, she said, "A few moments ago I be lieved myself to be dying ; Our Blessed Lady keeps me in safety, she never MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 555 leaves me. I can see her with the eyes of my soul, though not with those of my body. Oh ! how happy I am in the protection of Mary ! What would be come of me without her ? " On Low Sunday, April 19th, she said, "I do not know how it is I con tinue to live amid such tortures ; I am enduring a real martyrdom. Invoke Our Lady for me, for if she were not with me I should lose all patience. How kind she is ! What consoling thoughts she suggests ! How grateful I ought to be for all the favors she has bestowed upon me during my illness ! " The Great Physician. The next day she was able once more to receive Holy Communion, and when the doctor paid his visit he said, " It is easy to perceive that another and greater Physician has been here before me," so great and apparent was her feeling of joy and relief. On the 22nd she was permitted again to communicate, and on the 23rd did so for the last time. In the course of the morning, she asked to see the English Provincial. " Come in, come in, my dearest child," she exclaimed, "love is stronger than death. God has preserved my life that I may have the consolation of beholding you once more. I commit England to your care. Keep up the foundations. Let Angers be in England, and Eng land at Angers." The night which followed was one of acutest suffering. In the morning she sent for some Superiors of houses, who were then at Angers, and dismissed them with her blessing. This was her last effort, for in the afternoon a sudden faintness came on, and she could only articulate, " Farewell, farewell, farewell my dearest children ; farewell to the Institute." These were her last words. Her agony had begun, and she re mained motionless for two hours, her slow and labored breathing being the only sign of life. The Sisters, kneeling at her side, uttered from time to time the names of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, as she had requested them to do at her last hour. They held the crucifix to her lips, and as the "Angelus" was ringing at six o'clock, she rendered her pure soul to God. A Quiet Departure. So gentle and quiet was her depar ture, that those in the room could not detect the exact moment when she breathed her last. It was the evening* of Friday, April 24th, and the following Sunday was Good Shepherd Sunday, the special Feast of the Order. She had been called home to keep the Feast in heaven. On Saturday morning the body was carried to the Community room, ar ranged as a chapel, and many came to take a last look at one they had loved and venerated. Mother St. Euphrasia remained thus exposed until Monday, 27th. Her limbs lost nothing of their flexibility, and in spite of the extensive wound in her side not the slightest sign of decomposition made its appearance. The funeral was solemn and impressive, and was attended by many ecclesiastics and the entire Community to the number of 340. She was buried, as she had wished, in the chapel of the Immaculate Conception and was declared Venerable by Pope Leo XIII. on December n, 1897. Before concluding this sketch of the life of the Venerable Mother Mary of St. Euphrasia Pelletier, it may be well 556 MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. briefly to describe one of the convents she established. To describe one is to describe them all. No one can visit a Home of the Good Shepherd without being at once impressed by the air of peace and holy joy that seems to per meate it ; the grace of God seems writ ten on every face, and though a great amount of manual labor is always being carried on, perfect quiet and order reign throughout. The Three Classes. The nuns are divided into three classes, the choir-religious with white habits, blue girdles and black veils ; the lay sisters with white habits and white veils, and the touriere, or out-sisters, with black habit. The sisters live and work in a different part of the house to the penitents, while the various classes of the latter are also kept wisely dis tinct, even in church. They are mainly occupied in laundry and other indus tries, thus being trained to earn their own living in the future and meanwhile contributing to their support. While at work, at prayer or recrea tion, some of the nuns are always in charge to maintain order, and to con sole and cheer them at their task, in the execution of which they "sing and make melody in their hearts." It is customary to call the nuns by the name of "Mother," a name happily combin ing a gentle authority with a tender affection, while the penitents, of what ever age, are always called "children." The convents are truly houses of prayer. Mother St. Euphrasia knew that in prayer lay the key to all success in work for God. " Without an interior spirit," she said, "without mental prayer, how futile is our work ! Never can we expect to labor successfully for souls unless we seek in silence and prayer the light so indispensable for our guidance. The heart of the reli- gous who neglects meditation, is like an empty cistern which allows the water of grace to escape. When about to pray, consider that God invites you to it, and is ready to grant you the light and grace necessary to pray well. If in prayer you experience dryness and difficulty, this may be a trial sent you by God; bear it patiently, remain ing humbly at His feet, assuring Him with all simplicity that you have no wish but to please Him. Or this difficulty may proceed from want of preparation or of mortification, or from a certain attachment to creatures which separates us from God. If so, apply a prompt remedy to the evil by removing every obstacle to your union with Him. Experience will teach you that it is only by prayer that you learn to pray well. Preparation for Prayer. " Mental prayer is a private audience granted to us by God, in which He manifests Himself, in order to lavish His graces upon us, and it is our part to en treat God to instruct us in the method of converse with Him, prepare ourselves for prayer by great fidelity in the per formance of duties, and then presenting ourselves before Him in all simplicity, with an eager readiness to listen to His voice when He speaks to the heart, bids us correct our faults and make some sacrifice for His sake." Certainly the peculiar and responsible nature of the work entrusted to the Order of the Good Shepherd calls for a high degree of sanctity and prudence in those who undertake it. It is a direct MOTHER MARY OF ST. EUPHRASIA. 557 work for souls, for souls that have wandered far. It is the nearest approach to the work of a priest that a woman can perform. But the experience of two hundred years has now amply proved that Father Eudes was right when he declared, in God's name, that there would be a special protection over those who worked for the conversion of sinners, according to the rules he prescribed. The problem to be considered by the founder in framing these rules, was to find the best method of uniting constant personal in tercourse with the penitents, in order to influence them continually and strongly for good, with that amount of separation which would ensure reverence and re spect, yet never diminish love and con fidence. The Past Forgotten, On the one hand, too much familiarity must be avoided, while, on the other, the nuns must not stand aloof as if they were officials in a public institution ; and these two extremes are avoided with ad mirable wisdom by the rules he laid down. The penitents, for example, may seek advice and help from the Mothers in all their difficulties, but never are they allowed fo allude to their past lives, nor may they do so in conversation with one another. The past is forgiven, and is best buried with the one word "Rep aration ' ' written on its tomb. The ob ject is to fill them with higher and holier aims, bidding them think only of the present, and fill it with work for God. The inmates of a Home of the Good Shepherd are thus fired with the one idea of making atonement for past sins and preventing future falls. In the seclusion and protection of the Home, guided by its rules, fed by a life of prayer and work, obedient and unknown to all outside, they have a chance of doing this, of which they are keen to avail themselves. The spirit of St. Peter after his denial, of St. Mary Magdalen after her forgive ness, animates them one and all. Bitterness of the World. They have tasted the world and found its bitterness : they now " taste and see how sweet is the Lord." " This is my rest for ever," they say; "here will I dwell, for I have chosen it." They have no wish to show themselves abroad as monuments of God's grace, as is so often ' unhappily done by those outside the Church, saying: "I was a sinner, but look at me now : I am saved. No, their daily thought is : " Let them turn backward and blush for shame that say to me, 'Tis well, 'tis well ; I have denied my Master ; I have wandered far from home ; but by the grace of God I am now amid the sheep of the Good Shepherd ; laqueus contritus est et nos liberati sumus ; the snare is broken and we are set free ; here in penance and in prayer let me follow my Lord to the end." May their number increase and multi ply ; may houses of the Good Shepherd adorn at least every large town in America, and may this little biography have some share in making the work of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd more widely known, more truly apprciated, more warmly loved ! St. Gregory the Great. BY THE REV. A. J. SAXTON. "None should take upon him to rule who first hath not learned to obey; nor command that obedience to his subjects, which before he hath not given to his own superiors. " St. (Gregory's " Dialogues, " I., i., old English translation.) ESTRANGE greet ing is t h i s, it would seem, which his peo ple have pre pared for the ears of their Pontiff Bene dict I., as he proceeds through the streets of his still faithful Rome to one of its Basilicas. "Holy Father," they cry as they gather round him. " Holy Father," you have undone Rome ; you have displeased St. Peter." Willing, as the first Pope had been (Acts xi. 3, 4,) to justify himself even before his subjects, " In what have I offended, my children ?" he en quires. "Apostolic Father," the crowd repeat, " you have undone us, you have undone us, you have sent away Gregory from our city." This representation of his people's distress fully determined their Bishop, already inclined to revoke an act which, against his inclination, he had been prevailed upon to do by the urgent and tearful entreaties of the holy monk him self. Thus while Gregory was making all haste to the seaboard, on his way, as he joyfully fancied, to convert the Sax ons in Britain, the necessary Papal letter 558 for his recall was being drawn up; eager hands were waiting to grasp it, and by the strong lines of its authority bind the runaway, for so they conceived him, and lead him back to his own city and its sovereign call upon his charity and pastoral zeal. He was already advanced three days on his journey when the unwelcome messengers overtook him. The fierce heat had driven him and his religious companions from the dusty, baking highway, to seek the cool freshness of a meadow, and the holy man was read ing, when a presentiment came upon him that their further advance was about to be prevented. Still it was not too late. He arose at once, and expressed his wish to push forward without delay. But even as the missioners were mounting, the Pope's messengers drew near, and Greg ory read in their looks that his fears for his poor Angles were too true ; he must give up his project, Benedict wrote, and return to Rome at once. Let us join ourselves now to the home ward-bound party, and try to learn from his companions the history of the hum ble Gregory's early years, and the occa sion of this attempted visit to our fore fathers, whom the Bishops of Gaul had ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 559 not thought fit to instruct. We shall be told that he comes of an ancient senatorial stock, inferior in rank to few of Rome's proudest, and ennobling its patrician blood before God by a rare virtue ; that among his ancestors he counts a holy Pontiff, St. Felix III., and two saintly virgins, Tharsilla and ^Emiliana, sisters to Gordianus, his late father, among his living relatives. Prayer and Charity. We shall hear too of a story whispered among their friends, how the holy Monk St. Benedict, on his last visit to Rome, was entertained by Gordianus and his noble spouse, Silvia, — the days of whose widowhood are being spent in holy exercises of prayer and charity on the Aventine Hill, — and how he told the matron that her first-born son should rise to greatness among the foremost of God's servants — a forecast which, it is thought, Gregory is by no means likely to falsify. His steady application of powers much above the common, has gained him the repute of being second to none in the chief branches of the learning of his day, and his abandonment of in herited splendor, his retirement from high offices held in the city with ever growing renown, his foundation and ample endowment of six monastries in Sicily, and the conversion of his own mansion on the Ccelian Hill into a sev enth, some twelve months ago, in which he soon after made his religious pro fession, — all gives fair promise of no ordinary holiness. Deploring as he does to his own inti mate friends, the tardiness of his com plete conversion to God, and accusing himself of lukewarmness in trying to combine the perfect ways of contempla tion with every outward appearance of a worldly life, it is not surprising that on his once granting his heart its best desires, he speedily overtook and soon outstripped many brethren of . long standing and acknowledged proficiency in virtue, and quickly gained the repu tation of being a very spiritual man, and one far advanced in the inner life. That he should so soon leave the place of his choice may at first sight give rise to no small marvel. But not many weeks ago, we are told while passing through the forum or mar ket-place, he saw, among other things, some boys set for sale, their bodies white, their countenances beautiful, and their hair very fine. He asked from what* country or nation they were brought, and was answered they were called Angles. " Right," said he, "Angles or Angels, for they have an angelic face, and it becomes such to be co-heirs with the Angels in heaven. And the men of their province Deiri? Truly are they de ira (from wrath) withdrawn from wrath and called to the mercy of Christ. How is the king of that province called ?»— "iElla"— "Alleluia, " repeated he, ' ' the praise of God the Creator must be sung in those parts. His Monastic Life and Diaconate. Upon his return, St. Gregory, after throwing himself in humble submission at the Pope's feet, retired to his monas tery on Ccelian Hill. Little need be said of his life there. Frequent prayer and praise of God; contemplation of heavenly truths, study of the Sacred Scriptures and of the writings of God's enlightened servants ; labors in field and cell and writing-room by which 560 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. succeeding generations have benefited, labors lightened by recreation spent in discussing the lives of God's heroes and the joys they inherit ; a round of pov erty, and penance and self-denial, which begets a peace beyond all understand ing of worldlings : — such is every true monk's history. Bodily Weakness. We must dwell awhile, however, upon one episode in that of Gregory. By untiring application, multiplied fasts, and lengthened vigils, he had taxed his vital powers beyond what many would style due prudence. A severe prostra tion and repeated illnesses resulted, "in which," he says, a certain monk, Justus by name, who was well versed in the medical art, used to attend me." Fast ing became no longer possible, or rather, to speak more truly, a rapid succession of fainting-fits made constant and gen erous support absolutely necessary. Men now-a-days look far less eagerly for indults and dispensations than Greg ory longed to mortify his appetite. His inability to do so was more painful to him than its cause, for the solemn fast of all Lent was drawing on, Holy Sat urday, when he reflected, all persons fast, even young boys. Among the brethren was one whose holy conversation he especially enjoyed, and whom all esteemed a saint, Eleu therius. He had given up the rule of St. Mark's monastery, near Spoleto, to live and die as a simple monk in St. Andrew's. Gregory now quietly stole with him into the chapel and com mended his desires to the holy old man's prayers. Eleutherius, with tearful sup plication, besought Almighty God for his afflicted brother, who thereupon re gained his health so far as to perform his duties on Holy Saturday, fasting, and "on coming to eventide," he after wards told one of his deacons, "I found myself so strong, that if I had wished I could have prolonged my fast for another day." He was left in his dear solitude, which each day afforded fresh delights to one so eager in their pursuit, until some months after Pope Bendict's death, to whom Pelagius II. succeeded in 577. This Pontiff compelled Gregory, by obe dience, to take upon himself the sacred order of Deacon and the dignity of Car dinal, and employed him as secretary. Gregory Papal Legate and Abbot. The temporal necessities of the Holy See now opened out for our Saint a new field of usefulness. In the early part of the late pontificate, the Lombard hordes had swarmed down upon Italy from northern Germany. Pagans and idol aters some, others heretics, and the bit terer enemies, hence, of the truth — they soon, by an insatiable greed, a relentless cruelty, a brutish wastefulness of human life, and a Satanic hatred of all that bore the name of sacred, proved themselves a scourge scarcely less severe than any of the ten persecutious. They were bidding fair to depopulate Italy, when in 579, Pelagius, unable any longer to bear the sight of his flock thus harrassed by savage and inhuman op pressors, resolved upon rousing the Emperor Tiberius to do something for the protection of the loveliest part of the empire. Gregory was chosen for the errand, and in the capacity of Papal Legate to the Emperor he set out for Constantinople attended by a chosen body of monks. During the journey as ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 561 well as in the imperial city they led the life of mortification and holiness which they had practised in their monastery. Their mission, although received with due honor and respect, was denied the proper fulfilment of its object. God's design, indeed, in bringing St. Gregory would rather appear to have been the saving of a noble soul from the ravages of a false belief. The Patriarch at this time was St. Eutychius, who, for a warning to us of the need of self-distrust and watchfulness, as Father Ribadaneira observes, "although a holy man, did nevertheless after suffering banishment for the faith, working many miracles, and being eminent for much virtue, fall, by a singular dispensation of God's providence, into a grievous error. Champion of the Faith. For he believed and taught that our bodies, although raised to life, would not be palpable, nor clad with the bright robe of glory, nor endowed with the gifts of immortality and subtility." The zealous deacon allowed no false humility or human respect to deter him from op posing what he knew to be contrary to faith. With a modesty more admirable even than his quick perception, acute dis crimination, and ready reply, he drew from his rich store of scriptural know ledge such arguments as completely overthrew the mistaken views of the Archbishop. The latter's victory over himself was still more complete. For galling as it must have been to see his opponent scatter with a few plain and unanswerable distinctions all the force of his supporting texts, he yet, with the most charming humility, acquiesced in the Emperor's wish that those of his 36-C P Vol. 2 writings which were tainted should be publicly burnt. The sincerity of his recantation he proved soon after when in his last moments, and "when I myself, "relates St. Gregory, ' ' was sick of a most violent fever, and certain of my acquaintances went to give him greeting ; as I have learnt from their narration, before their eyes he held up the skin of his own hand, saying ' I confess that we shall rise again in this flesh.' A thing which he him self avowed he had been used formerly to deny." The Book of Job. It may have been on occasion of this discussion that St. Gregory commenced his ' ' Moral Exposition of the Book of Job," a work that he approached with great diffidence, being almost appalled by its many difficulties, for it was ground hitherto unworked. It was only indeed after much prayer that he continued it, being urged and encouraged thereto by the brethren, and by St. Leander, Bishop of Seville, who at this time represented the affairs of Spain at the imperial court. As Gregory's letters testify, these two conceived for each other a lifelong regard and friendship, based upon the holiest motives. Tiberius died in August, 582, four months after his Bishop, without having been able to send any succor to the Pope. He was replaced by Maurice, his son-in-law, who showed the same sincere regard for Gregory and begged him to stand sponsor for his infant son. Maurice, however willing, could do little or nothing to relieve the Pope, who at last recalled Gregory ; and before many months had passed over our Saint's head, he again found himself within the much- desired shelter of his monastery. 562 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. The brethren, among them being perhaps our own St. Augustine, would welcome him with a joy proportioned to their love, a love which had prompted a number of them, along with Maximian- us the Abbot, to undertake a toilsome journey and actually risk their lives, merely to satisfy its cravings by visiting him while he was at Constantinople. With what a holy enthusiasm too they would help to unpack his treasures, which comprised most precious relics, namely, the head of St. Luke, and an arm of their own venerated Patron, St. Andrew. Becomes an Abbot. Soon their desires were gratified by his acceptance of the dignity of Abbot. He exacted the strict observance of their rule with the utmost severity ; and allowed no thoughts of personal favor to influence his government, as appears from the following incident. The monk Justus, his former medical attendant, had himself fallen sick, and the brethren were scandalized to learn of his having kept back for his own use three gold pieces, thus breaking the time-honored rule, that all property should be in common. The Abbot, after considering the case well, forbade the others to assemble in prayer around the death-bed, and Justus, grieved to the heart at being left to fight his last battle unsupported, was told the reason of their absence. And although he died with every mark of sorrow, Gregory's original order was fulfilled to the letter, that the body should be cast into a foul ditch, and along with it the coins, while the monks all cried out, "Keep thy money to perish with thee." (Acts viii. 20.) A month afterwards, the Saint ordered thirty daily Masses to be offered for the departed religious, and after the last one, Justus appeared to his brother Copiosus, who was a physician well known in the city, and declared that his soul had passed from a state of suffering and purgation to the abode of the blessed. Besides the government of this mon astery, St. Gregory had still his duties to discharge in the city as Deacon, and those also of Papal Secretary. Pelagius was bent upon healing the schism of the Bishops of Istria, who refused to condemn the " Three Chapters," and he made use of Gregory's talents for that end. He first wrote assuring them of Rome's perfect accord with the first four Councils, and dilating on the evils of schism, but abstained from any dis cussion of the vexed question. A second letter followed, which received, like the first, a contumacious answer. The third assumed the proportions of a dogmatic treatise, calculated to convince any except the incurably obstinate, such as Elias and his suffragans appear to have been. Gregory Elected Pope. The closing months of the year 589 were marked by continued and heavy rain, which so swelled the Tiber that it rose to an unusual height in the streets of Rome. But the damage done by the mere inundation was small in comparison with the evil results that followed. For the floods bore down the usual load ol carcasses and of corrupt matter, and venomous serpents, alive and dead. Much of this filth lodged in the city, where it soon bred or perhaps rather fed a violent plague. Pope Pelagius was ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 563 among the earliest victims, dying on Feb. 8th, 590. His bereaved flock turned quite naturally to the one man who for a score of years, in spite of his humility and love of seclusion, had been foremost in their thoughts and closest to their hearts. Gregory was elected with one consent to be Bishop of Rome. Over many an election before, the Roman Emperors had claimed to exercise con trol, by approving of the Bishop when chosen, and to this, though without acknowledging it as a right, the Popes submitted from motives of prudence. Fatal Pestilence. r Our humble Saint now eagerly availed himself of the custom, as of a loophole through which his retiring spirit might creep back again into obscurity. He wrote off at once to Maurice, entrusting him to withhold his approval, and warmly appealing to his friendly feel ings for relief from a burden far too weighty for his shoulders. Meanwhile his deeply-rooted charity prompted him to comply with the wish of all concerned, and assume the full direction of affairs. In his eyes the pestilence was a clear manifestation of God's wrath — vast numbers he asserts were seen to fall before heaven-sent darts — and his first care was to exhort the people in repentance, in a sermon preserved for us by St. Gregory of Tours, whose deacon was an eye-witness of these dire events. Stirred up by his words, the poor panic-stricken people forgot their aim less and powerless terror for the while, in the pursuit of a united purpose, and assembled in seven bands to implore God's mercy through the intercession of His saints, by singing their litanies. Gregory arranged and directed all, acting it may be as precenter, for which his musical taste well qualified him. He led them in procession to their final station at St. Peter's, bearing aloft that picture of our Blessed Lady which some assert to have been painted by St. Luke. And although the pestilence was so severe as to carry off within an hour eighty of those gathered together, St. Gregory, undismayed and unwearied, persevered in storming Heaven with acts of penance and devotion. At last, according to the story as told at Jervaux Abbey in the 14th century, he was per mitted like David (1 Paralip. xxi., 16), to see the destroying Angel, who stayed his hand and sheathed his sword over the Mole of Hadrian, where now stands the Castle of St. Angelo. An Imperial Letter. The Pope-elect, when the plague had abated, found time to think about his own affairs. As he had relied upon the effect of his letter to Maurice, he so far fancied that his solitude was secure. With all the greater shock must the news have come upon him, that an im perial letter had arrived, expressive of the fullest approval and the most sin cere delight at Gregory's election. He had still one resource, to imitate his patron St. Gregory Nazianzen. And when the clergy and people of Rome, triumphing in the success of their watchfulness — for the letter in which he had trusted had been stopped, and another forwarded instead, of a vastly different tenor, by the prefect Germanus whom some believe to have been the Saint's brother — when his joyous flock presented themselves at 564 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. St. Andrew's to conduct their Pontiff to his Basilica, their hearts sank low in deed at finding that he had escaped from the city. Messengers were at once despatched to search foi him, while by fasting and prayer his flock besought Heaven for his restoration to them. Of the Saint's own reflections during the three days that he lay hid, we have most probably a very faithful reproduction in the first part of the book, "Of the Pastoral Charge," in which, like St. Chrysostom in his Six Books of the Priesthood, he gives the reasons for his flight. Hiding-Place Discovered. His devoted pursuers were at length led to his hiding-place by a light, not of earth, that gleamed over it. He could not fail to see in these beams from above a counterpart of the light of consola tion and of confidence in God which now flooded his soul, in spite of the tears that were still upon his cheeks ; and in her inmost depths, his soul caught the whisper of her delightful Guest : "I have found David my ser vant ; with my holy oil I have anointed him. For my hand shall help him, and my arm shall strengthen him. The enemy shall have no advantage over him ; nor the son of iniquity have power to hurt him." (Ps. 88, 21). Strong in this trust of divine grace, he turned to those who stood respect fully awaiting him. "Unworthy as I am to take upon myself the burdens of a bishopric, I yield to the bidding of Almighty God and of your will, who more in the abundance of your affection than in the esteem of your judgment, have wished to have me set over you." (Ep. 32, bk. i). In their company, which would soon be augmented, when the good news spread, by joyful bands of the Roman people, the new Pontiff entered the city to take upon himself the sublime charge committed first to St. Peter, the highest dignity on earth, that of ruling the whole flock of Christ, sheep and lambs, bishops who lead and faithful who follow. When the needful preparations had been made, he received Episcopal consecration, and mounted the throne of Peter on September 3rd, 590, being in his 49th or 50th year. His Appreciation of the Papal Dignity. That he had been sincere in fleeing from such high honors, is proved by his first letters, written not to strangers, but to familiar and cherished friends, men who had long shared the secrets of his bosom, and whom he would scarce attempt to deceive by an artificial re gret and a threadbare imposture. His was the only heart that had failed to rejoice at the appointment, and in terms most distressing to his humility, con gratulations had been poured in upon him by nobles, princes, and bishops. We can fancy them reading his answers from parchments blurred with his tear drops, teeming as they do with regret for his happy life in the cloister, and awe at the boundless extent of his cares and obligations. His dignity he describes as a binding chain ; its duties are a burden that press him down to the earth ; his elevation is ruin itself, for his pinnacle of contem plation from which he used to gaze upon heavenly joys, has crumbled away. He who for the very purpose of avoiding wordly distractions first sought the ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 565 harbor of the monastery now com plains: "I am a slave to earthly cares, to the like of which I never remember myself subjected during my life as a layman." An abiding sorrow had indeed fallen upon him, that betrayed itself at times in his looks, and was never removed. In all this he had one consolation, that he was submitting to the yoke of the Lord; he placed great trust in his friends' prayers, which he continually implored and conjured them to pour out for him. And what were his theological views of his position ? For there is a theory that St. Gregory refused the title and authority of Supreme Pontiff, styling himself rather "servant of the servants of God. " " The Patriarch of Constan tinople, John the Faster" says, for in stance, a prominent writer, " called him self the Oecumenical or General Pa triarch, meaning that he was Bishop of all other Bishops ; but Gregory refused to acknowledge this title in any one else, or to have it given to himself." The See of Rome. Hence it seems well, at the very out set, to group together various passages from his writings, to show what really he held concerning this divine institu tion. I. He founds the claim of the See of Rome to be regarded as supreme over all other sees, and as custodian of the true faith for all the world, upon the same basis as did his predecessors, namely, the fact that it was the See of St. Peter "who held the princedom of holy Church by authority of God." In the second letter, written in the name of Pope Pelagius to the Bishops of Istria, he quotes with approval the words of St. Cyprian, the illustrious martyr, in the book which he styled ' ' Of the Name of Unity : " " The com mencement takes its rise from unity, and the primacy is given to Peter, that Christ's Church and Chair may be shown to be one;'' and again, " He that holdeth not the unity of the Church) doth he believe himself to hold the faith ? He that abandoneth and resisteth the chair of Peter, upon which the Church is founded, doth he trust to be in the Church ? " Peter's Great Charge. In the first letter Gregory had written, after quoting St. Luke xxii. 31-32 : " Consider, dearly beloved, the Truth could not lie ; and that the faith of Peter will never be able to be shaken or changed ; for though the devil asked to have all the disciples to sift, for Peter alone does the Lord declare that He has prayed, and He wished that by him the others should be confirmed." And some nine years later, when writing to the Emperor, he lays down the same text, side by side with St. John xxi. 17, and St. Matt. xvi. 8, as the ground of the assertion : "It is clear to all who know the Gospel, that by the Lord's voice the charge of the whole Church was entrusted to Peter, the holy and chief Apostle of all the Apostles." St. Peter is indeed, in Gregory's eyes, the perpetual holder, possessor, and master of the diocese of Rome. "We who though unworthy have received the government of the Apostolic See in the place of Peter Prince of the Apos tles ; " he is ever identified with the reigning Pontiff, and their common 566 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. cause is that too of God Himself and of the whole Church, which along with Gospel and Canon, is attacked by the assumption of the title Universal Bishop. "Although Gregory's sins be so great that he ought to suffer such things, there are no sins of St. Peter the Apos tle to merit for him these sufferings." " The Lord Venantius came to blessed Peter the Apostle to ask urgently of me." 2. St. Gregory asserted in words and maintained by act the Primacy of the Roman Bishop. "The Apostolic See," he wrote in 592, "by appointment of God, stands set over other churches." And else where, "if any fault be found in Bishops, I know not what Bishop is not subject to this See." A Severe Rebuke. To omit mention of numberless ex ercises of authority within his own Pa triarchate, or as Metropolitan of the Roman Province, to John of Constanti nople he administered a most severe re buke for delaying to answer certain questions regarding a priest and some monks treated with undue rigor, and for professing in the end an utter ignor ance of the case. In the next year, being appealed to by the priest Adeodatus, who com plained of unjust removal from his church during a two months' sick leave, the Pope ordered Clementius, Primate of Byzacene in Africa to make careful and strict enquiry into the case ; the intruded priest, if found guilty of simony, was to be debarred all further exercise of his sacred functions. Gregory suspended also an intruded Archbishop of Spalatro and his con- secrators from their sacred office, under penalty of excommunication, " ana thema from God and from blessed Peter, Prince of the Apostles." In one of the very letters indeed in which he condemns as " a proud and pestiferous epithet, a new, rash and superstitious name," the designation of a bishop as ' Universal,' he reminds the bishops of the East how Pelagius II. had nullified the acts of the Synod where it had been assumed, and de clares, " if any one shall spurn these presents in any part, let him know him self cut off from the peace of blessed Peter, Prince of the Apostles." Rights of the Church. 3. Finally, he accepts without demur, acknowledgements of supremacy, which recognize in Rome " the first Apostolic See, that most holy see which trans mits its rights to the Universal Church ; '' and allows himself to be called " Holy Father of Fathers," but as constantly rejects the title Universal Bishop, after the example of his predecessors, to whom in honor of blessed Peter Prince of the Apostles, it was offered during the venerable Council of Chalcedon, and afterwards by succeeding bishops. Whatever in short John of Constan tinople meant by " Universal Bishop," which in 588 had brought down upon his synod a prompt exercise of Rome's universal jurisdiction — the nullifying of its acts by Pelagius in a papal letter couched in the severest terms of re- proval — Pope Gregory understood it to signify not " Bishop of all other Bishops," but " Bishop exclusive of all other Bishops, solitary, single Bishop," not " supreme, chief Bishop." " If one, as he argues, be universal, ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 567 then it remains that you are not Bishops," he wrote to the Bishops of the East ; and to the Empress, " He strives to be called the only Bishop, scheming to re duce beneath him all things that apper tain to the one sole head, namely, Christ." And it was in this sense that he repudiated it, and declared he would do so even at the cost of his life. First Years of His Rule. The first view of government, as pre sented to Gregory's eyes, was one well calculated to daunt even an intrepid ambition and to quell a restless activity : nothing, truly, short of her heroic courage, instilled and upheld by divine grace, could have stood before it. The Eternal City, to begin with, must have worn the aspect of a desert, depopu lated as it was by the plague, which still exacted tribute from the thin ranks of the citizens. An earthquake and a violent storm heaped ruin upon desola tion, throwing down the walls, and wrecking churches and public buildings. Then close after sickness and disaster came starvation, and when the poor people, with whom Gregory's charity was already a proverb, resorted to him in their extreme need, he was utterly distressed to learn that last winter's floods had undermined the papal grana ries and swept away some thousands of bushels of corn. It wanted but an ever-threatened incursion of the barbar ous Lombards to fill up the measure of misery. The slight check put upon these marauders a few months before, had been quite inadequate, and their en croachments caused an almost hourly anxiety. But they refrained from in vading the capital, a blessing which its prelate ascribed to the protection of the holy Apostles SS. Peter and Paul. In the " new Rome," Constantinople, its Patriarch was scandalizing the Church and endangering her unity, by his imitation of the lost Archangel, who, spurning the legions of Angels, associated with him as companions, strove to start up to a height of sin gularity that he might appear subject to none and alone supreme over all ; who said, " I will ascend above the height of the clouds ; I will be like the Most High." (Is. xiv. Ep. 18, bk. v.) An Impious King. Spain had not ceased groaning from the ravages of the Arian Visigoths, under the impious and ruthless king, Leovigild, who martyred his convert- son St. Hermenigild, and had not many months been removed by death. The same heresy in Africa was still arming the cruel Vandals against Bishops and people alike, and in this province also the Donatists were snatching and scat tering the flock of Christ. Here again, as in Gaul, and in part of Italy itself, the wounds inflicted on Christ's Mys tical Body, by the lamentable misun derstanding of the "Three Chapters," were yet raw and bleeding. Poor distant Britain too ! Her comely Angles, untaught even still, for no other heart had gone out to them as his own had done fifteen years before, wor shipped their stocks and stones with unseemly sacrifice. Turn which way he would to remedy these and countless other ills, Gregory was beset by some lesser care to engage his attention. " In this place, forsooth, " he lamented to his friend St. Leander, "I am buffeted by such waves of this 568 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. world, that I can in no wise bring to port the aged and decaying bark which by secret ordering of God, I have got to pilot. Now the waves pour in at the prow, now the seas swell up in mountains of foam at the side, now the temptest drives on at the stern." But his zeal animated him against all trials and opposition ; the higher the billows and the fiercer the winds that arose, the more fervent became his suit at the Throne of Grace, the stronger and more deeply-rooted grew his confidence in God. "The Three Chapters." Within four months of his accession, a Synod was convened at Rome, to stem the most violent of these evils, the schism of the " Three Chapters." St. Gregory had all along, with the clearest insight, urged the distinction between belief condemned and persons approved. " The Three Chapters ' ' — certain writings in which Theodore and Theo- doret, Bishops of Mopsuesta and of Cyrrus, and Ibas writing to one Maris, — were condemned after a long and careful examination by a council which met for that purpose at Constantinople in 553, and which was fully confirmed and approved by Pope Vigilius. Having small knowledge of the Acts of this, the fifth Ecumenical Council, and influ enced perhaps by false representations of it, many in the West persistently re fused to give adhesion to its decrees, as having opposed previous Councils, and mainly that of Chalcedon. The truth was that Theodoret and Ibas, — Theoret being already dead, — had been compelled at Chalcedon to give a verbal profession of orthodoxy, and had been reconciled. Their writ ings, in the press of more urgent mat ters remained unconsidered. Hence, Pope Vigilius and the Fathers at Con stantinople, — who constantly professed the utmost reverence for previous Coun cils, and absolute agreement with them, — had but performed what was left undone, not attempted to alter anything done. Severus of Acquileia, leader of the schism in northeastern Italy, was now bidden to meet his colleagues in Rome, but disobeyed. The troubled state of the land was reason more than enough to prevent his being coerced, and for a time no greater success appeared likely to attend St. Gregory's efforts than was achieved by his no less zealous prede- decessor. Eager for Reform. The Synod however brought out the Pontiff's eagerness for home-reform. Among other things he ruled that henceforth no layman should be em ployed in attendance upon the Pope's person. And at this time he ordered the destruction of many figures of dem ons, and of diabolical carvings that had been allowed to disgrace the city and suburbs. His letters, moreover, give abundant proof that his pastoral zeal was in no wit lessened by rebuffs. Among them stands out the synodal letter to the other Patriarchs, containing a most val uable disquisition on the eminence, and sanctity of the care of souls, a reproduc tion in fact to some extent, of the Book of the Pastoral charge. In conclusion he writes : — ' 'As the four books of the Holy Gospel, so, I avow, do I receive and reverence the four Councils. The fifth Council also, I likewise reverence. ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 569 Whoever thinks other than they, let him be anathema." (Ep. 25, bk. i.) The holy Father's efforts in every de partment, tempered as they were only by such recreation as was afforded by relating and discussing his many legends of holy persons, and by composition of his book on Job, brought on a renewed attack of his early disorder, and he was compelled to take some weeks' rest, during which he wrote his " Dialogues." The miracles with which it abounds have brought upon it the scoffs of mod ern sceptics ; the style, as its author intended, is conversational, and on that account below the level of his other works ; but it met with an almost uni versal welcome, and has reappeared in various languages. Apostle of England. For some four years the Pope was ap parently unable to give attention to the Angles. A rumor had reached him that they had expressed a desire to be con verted to the Christian faith, and he had directed his agent in Gaul, Candidus, " to purchase English slave-boys of the age of seventeen or eighteen years, that having been consecrated to God in the monasteries they may make spiritual progress. A few months afterwards, St. Augus tine and his band of forty monks had started on their journey through Gaul for Britain. They bore with them let ters to Theoderic and Theodebert, and Brunchild, the Sovereigns of the Franks, in which St. Gregory, while rebuking the remissness of the Bishops of Gaul, desires them to further the advance of the missioners to the best of their power, commending St. Augustine's zeal and energy in very high terms. In a simi lar strain he wrote to the bishops through whose sees they would have to pass. Sorely disappointed must the zealous Pontiff have been, when Augustine re turned after a comparatively short ab sence, with the tidings that his little band was much discouraged by the rumors poured into their ears of the ferocity of their intended neophytes, and sadly dispirited by assertions that their task was a hopeless one. But they had chosen a very lukewarm advocate of their views, and Augustine soon re joined them, having been promoted from the dignity of prior to that of abbot. His superior had furnished him with a letter, urging the monks to ' ' carry out to the full the good work that by the Lord's help you have begun. May Al mighty God protect you by His grace, and grant to me to see the fruit of your labor in our eternal country. So that, although I may not labor along with you, I may be found along with you in the joy of your reward, for I wish, in sooth, so to labor. May God keep you safe, dearest sons." Preacher and Doctor of the Church. St. Gregory was mindful of the Apos tle's lesson that one of a Bishop's first duties is to preach the gospel, and has left behind him a large collection of homilies, upon the Gospels and upon Ezechiel. In the Benedictine Annals we read how one afflicted with an almost incurable spiritual dryness with this holy Pope's sermons, and read and read with ever-increasing gladness of soul, until the gloom of despair gave place to fervor of devotion and delight of heavenly things. 570 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. The congregations which always crowded the basilicas when he was to preach, could scarcely fail to derive less profit from his spoken word, especially when at times they saw their beloved Father preaching, in spite of such weakness, that his voice could barely reach them all, or even compelled to forego the precious task, and sit while others read what he had already care fully composed. The Saint's sermons are short, par ticularly those on days of lenghtened ceremony or arduous fast. Hence they admit of no very lofty flights of rhetoric, but have the ring of that genuine elo quence, speaking from the heart's sin cere conviction. Depth of thought is expressed in clear and simple language, and a long and earnest pondering of the Sacred Text has enabled the preacher to make every word of it almost convey some lesson. The Kingdom at Hand. If the beloved disciple's sermon was ever, "Love one another," that of St. Gregory, like the other John's was "Do penance, for the kingdom of God is at hand." (St. Matt. iii. 2.) He would turn to account recent events, and by them direct the thoughts of his flock to the life to come : and at times digressed awhile to lash some prevailing folly, as excessive show in dress. With St. Augustine, he knew the value of a strongly-marked contrast like the fol lowing : " Two hearts below, — of Dives and Lazarus, — one Watcher above, Who by trial was exercising this one for glory, and by forbearance awaiting the other for punishment." But one grand feature of these dis courses is the apt use of that endless store of examples collected in the mon astery. For people and priest alike, as the Saint would observe, are aided in blameless and upright advance along the narrow path by fixing their gaze upon God's servants. And he com monly set up for honor and imitation not saints of far-off lands, but heroes connected with their own soil and clime, — a pattern that might be more profitably copied in our land, rich as it is with saints of every rank and degree. First in Humility. Treating for instance of humility, he adduced St. Peter, "first on the summit of the Apostolic and first in humility. For consider, dearest brethren, upon what loftiness of mind he stood, who praised St. Paul's epistles, in which he found it written that he was himself deserving of blame. What must have been his meekness, what his quiet of soul, his solidity of mind, and calm con trol of thought. See him chidden by his inferior, and he disdains not to be chidden : all the gifts he had received he banished as it were from memory, that he might stoutly hold fast the one gift, humility." " But then does the seed of the word readily bud forth, when it is watered in the hearer's breast by the preacher's piety," is St. Gregory's own remark. And so, when a certain Abbot John had journeyed from Persia to venerate the sacred bodies of SS. Peter and Paul, and meeting in Rome's street, Peter's worthy successor and imitator, knelt before him, the Pope not only tried to prevent him, but actually bent his own knee until the other rose. He could well preach compassion for the poor, whose charities were bounded ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 571 only by the extent of an almost princely patrimony. And when his researches brought to light any whose lot had not always been poverty, he took care to send them such food as they had been used to enjoy in better days. Nor was his generosity that which prides itself upon heading a subscription list, and then burns the glove which a beggar has presumed to touch in taking the daintily- given dole. He waited in person on the poor fed at his expense at St. Andrew's, calling the old men by the honored name of " Father," and none were so welcome as they who could chat with him on the saints they had known. Once he de prived himself for days of the conso lation of saying Mass, because he laid it to the charge of his neglect that a poor man was found starved to death in the street Worship of Relics. It is observed that "none of the Fathers has written better on humility ; he is truly to be styled ' the Doctor of humility,' as Augustine 'the Doctor of Grace.' Let us hear him on Image- worship and Relics. " We send you a little blessed cross of Peter the Apostle, with the benefit of part of his chains in serted, may they free your neck from the yoke of sin. Around it is part of blessed Laurence's gridiron on which he was burnt, that it may inflame your mind with love of the Lord." Like St. Paul, he was constantly in voking the prayers of the holy while living, and asks: "because in heaven they all see God in one common glory, what is there they do not know, when they know Him who knoweth all things?" "That you have had zeal against the adoration of anything made with hands, we have praised. But it is one thing to adore a painting, another by story of a painting to learn what is to be adored. For what writing does for those who read, this painting does for the ignorant. And not without reason has antiquity allowed the stories of the Saints to be told by paintings in the sacred places." The Holy Mass. Speaking elsewhere of the Holy Mass, "this Sacrifice," he says, "doth es pecially save our souls from everlasting damnation, there His Body is received, there His Flesh is distributed for the salvation of the people, what right- believing Christian can doubt, that in the very hour of the Sacrifice at the words of the priest, the heavens be opened, and the choirs of* Angels are present in that mystery of Jesus Christ ; that high things are accompanied with low, and earthly joined to heavenly; and that one thing is made of visible and invisible." The holy Bishop once noticed a smile upon a certain matron's face as he was about to give her the Sacred Host, and drawing back his hand, replaced It on the Altar. Mass finished, he demanded a public explanation of such irreverence, and at last wrung from her the admission. " Because you offered as the Lord's Body, the bread which I knew my own hands had made. ' ' By his prayers Gregory obtained the removal of the species of bread, and pointing to the Sacred Flesh and Blood miraculously unveiled, "Learn," said he, " to believe the Truth Himself, even now declaring ' The bread which I give is My flesh ; and My Blood is drink in- 572 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. deed.' By that power in which He made all things out of nothing, and by work ing of the Holy Ghost built up for Himself a body out of the flesh of the ever Virgin ; for our reparation, by operation of the Holy Ghost, He changes bread and wine mingled with water, — their own species still enduring, — into His Flesh and Blood at the Catholic prayer." His Death. We find St. Gregory complaining that " what the mind has not willingly under taken, it does not fittingly manage." But his untiring perseverance overcame in the end. Schism and heresy, if not stamped out, were trampled into silence. Simony in his later years arose, but was not more victorious. The Lombards, by the efforts of Queen Theodolinda, under St. Gregory's advice, made peace and were converted in great numbers. St. Gregory's thankfulness for St. Augustine's success in Britain is evinced, not merely in his letters, but in his books as well. Many times in the former we hear the echo of the song of joy with which he greeted the new Archbishop. "Glory be to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will, for that the Grain of Wheat falling into the ground has died, that It might not reign alone in Heaven, by Whose death we live, by Whose weakness we are made strong, by Whose suffering we are snatched from suffering, by Whose love we seek in Britain the brethren whom we know not, and by Whose gift we find them, whom yet unknown to us we sought. " For who could avail to tell what great joy has arisen here in the heart of all the faithful at tidings that the Eng lish nation, by the operation of God Almighty's grace, and the labors of your brotherhood, the darkness of error driven out, has been bathed in the light of holy faith ; that with most upright mind it now tramples on the idols to which formerly in vain fear it pros trated." And in the Moral Exposition of the Book of Job, we find inserted a reference to this success. The original band of laborers had soon proved too small, and additional ones had been despatched to Britain, with many wise directions worthy of St- Gregory for the rule of that already flourishing corner of the vineyard. It is noteworthy that in his last extant letter to St. Augustine, written in June, 60 1, the Pontiff virtually asserts his jurisdiction over all the Bishops in the island, whether British or consecrated by St. Augustine himself. Last Words. At last, on the 12th of March, 604, came the summons, long desired and long prayed for. " The Lord comes," he had once said to his flock, " when He hastens to judgment. He knocks when by the troubles of sickness He shows death to be near. He that is secure in his hope and in his work, opens at once to the knock, because he awaits the Judge with gladness. And when the time of immediate death approaches, he grows cheerful at thought of the glory of reward." " Your forefathers sought His favor, so do you also seek it for yourself, and take pains to keep it ; let His honor be in no way lessened among you, who even now can be your helper in all things." These were among his last words. SAINT DOMINIC. Saint Dominic BY THE REV. WILFRID LESCHER, O. F«. AINT DOMINIC was born in the year of St. Thom- asof Canterbury's martyrdom, 1170. Once more, in the words of Tertul- lian, Sanguis mar- tyrumsemen Chris- tianorum, " The blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians." He belonged to the princely family of Guzman, settled at Calaroga, a Spanish town near the Pyrenees. At the age of fourteen he entered the schools at Palencia. His life there was solitary and frugal. He ate sparingly, and for ten years did not drink wine. Early made a Subprior. Both his parents were dead when he was ordained priest at the age of twenty- four, and at the request of his Bishop, soon after joined the Chapter of Re formed Canons of Osma, his native dio cese. Although youngest, in age, he was named Subprior. "Then," says Blessed Jordan, "he stood among his brethren as a shining light, first in holi ness, but in his own opinion last of all, shedding around him a life-giving per fume. One thing he asked often and earnestly of God ; it was that He would give him a true charity, a love that would make it easy for him to give up all for the salvation of men, being con vinced that only then would he be a true member of Christ, when he should con secrate himself with all his powers to win souls, after the example of the Sa viour of the world, our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for our re demption." His aspiration, even then, was after a missionary life, "for," says Theodoric, ' ' his love for perishing souls was a continual and painful wound in his heart ; for God had given to him the gift of a perfect charity." The Albigenses. In 1 203 Dominic went with Diego, Bishop of Osma, into France. As they crossed the Pyrenees and entered the province of Languedoc, they were con fronted with the ravages of the Albi- gensian heretics. Dominic's heart yearned over the land. He had been reared in solitude. Yet at once, as by instinct, the zeal of an apos tle flashed out. With a tact equal to his charity, he converted the innkeeper who gave them shelter, on the first night of his arrival. Later he told a friend that this first success had suggested to his mind on the spot, the idea of an Or der of Preachers. The fellow travellers passed through Languedoc, and visited Rome. They turned homewards, re-entered Langue doc, and were on the point of leaving it when a mere accident, as we might call it, arrested their steps. Pope Innocent III. had instigated a movement against the aggression of the Albigenses. 573 574 SAINT DOMINIC. Success had been slight, and the Catholics were at that moment in con ference at Montpelier, deliberating on the gloomy outlook. They heard of Diego and Dominic passing through, and invited their counsel. Diego spoke with burning words to the Fathers and magnates, and declared his intention of remaining in the land, preaching the poverty of Christ. All went well. Dominic followed his Bishop as a simple preacher. His zeal and name soon filled the land. Surpris ing it was to see the student, the recluse, the man of prayer, showing forth all the fire, and still more the prudence and charity of a perfect apostle. His mani festation had come. It was as if a tor rent from the quiet hills had found at length its outlet. Dominic's Thesis Unscathed by Fire. The Albigenses were amazed and an gered by this new resistance. Their pride was checked by humble men ; their imperious conquests trembled. They took up with fresh fury the arts of de ception ; but in vain. At Fanjeaux oc curred a celebrated prodigy. A public thesis written by Dominic was put to the ordeal by fire. The document writ ten in opposition by the Albigenses was cast into the flames and consumed. Do minic's was thrown out of the fire three times unscathed. This miracle was noised abroad and converted many. It is sculptured in marble on the Saint's tomb at Bologna. A little town by the Pyrenees, thirty miles from Toulouse, was the first place to receive the impress of his religious rule. Here he provided for the educa tion of Catholic girls by founding a small convent of nuns. A sudden storm of war both tested and sheltered this refuge created by the zeal of the great preacher. Diego died, the Catholic mission collapsed, and hos tilities broke out between the Catholics and the Albigenses. "St. Dominic," says blessed Hum bert, "left almost alone, with a few companions who were bound to him by no vow, during ten years upheld the Catholic faith in different parts of Nar- bonne, especially at Carcassonne and Fanjeaux. He devoted himself entirely to the salvation of souls by the ministry of preaching, and he bore with a great heart a multitude of affronts, ignomi nies and sufferings for the Name of Je sus Christ." He Loved Mankind. "It was necessary," says the chroni cler, "that he who loved God so much should love men dearly. As a youth he sold his books and other things, and he wished to sell himself as a slave to ran som a Christian from the Moors. Nor was he less illustrious in consoling un happy men and alleviating their lot than in teaching them the truth. For he desired nothing more ardently than to help them on the way to heaven. Thus he embraced in the widest charity all sorts of men, nobles and peasants, Jews and Pagans. He disputed with heretics, but nevertheless he admonish ed them cheerfully and mildly to em brace the Catholic Faith. In fine, he was so moved with pity towards the af flicted, that he ardently desired to save even those who were in hell, had it been possible." To the Catholics he was all in all : they found in him their defence, their father, their guide, " The Catholics loved SAINT DOMINIC. 575 him," we are told; "liberal and hospit able, he shared what he had with the poor. He was very sparing to himself in food, but wished others to be supplied abundantly, so far as their means al lowed. I never knew a man so humble, or who held the world in greater con tempt. He received abuse, curses, and reproaches, not only patiently, but with joy, as though they were precious gifts. No persecution troubled him ; he went about serene and intrepid in the midst of danger, and never turned out of his way from fear. If on his journeys he was overcome by weariness, he would lie down by the roadside for a scanty rest. Much Given to Prayer. " Never did I know a man so given to prayer, or who so abounded in tears. He was heard to cry out : ' O Lord, have mercy on this people. What will become of sinners?' The sins of others were a torment to him. He would pass sleep less nights weeping over sinners.' ' An other says : — " Into the wide embrace of his charity he received all men, and as he loved all, so was he beloved by all. He made it his business to rejoice with those that rejoiced, and to weep with those that wept, and wholly to pour himself out in pity for the afflicted, and love of his neighbor. All were more over attracted by the fact that he never showed the least duplicity or pretence, in word or work, but always walked in the ways of simplicity." His mission grew. Fervent compan ions came and clung to him. First of these was the dearly loved Blessed Ber- trand, who was with him in all toils, and was called his living image. Another was Lawrence the Englishman, also called Blessed. The capacity and ener gy of Dominic were not overlooked. He filled several most important offices. Thrice he was offered, but refused, the episcopate. This is one of many evi dences of his humility. The Rosary. This period of his life is bounded by two notable events, the murder of the Papal Legate, and the Battle of Muret- In the Breviary Office for Rosary Sun day, it is declared that, " he was admon ished by the Blessed Virgin to preach the Rosary to the people as a singular remedy against heresy and sin." The Popes Leo X, St. Pius V, Gregory XIII, Sixtus V, Clement VIII, Alexander . VII, Innocent XI, Clement XI, Inno cent XIII, Benedict XIII, Pius IX, have with a singular consent and in a most formal manner, attributed the Rosary to St. Dominic. Pope Leo XIII has crowned the tra dition by the words in his Encyclical Letter, dated September 22d, 1891: — " The belief that to this form of prayer a special power has been accorded by the Queen of Heaven is justified, be cause by her instigation and under her patronage it was introduced by the holy Father Dominic, and it was spread in a time hostile to everything Catholic, much like our own, and as a powerful means of opposing the enemies of the Faith effectually." It is easy to trace the Rosary to Do minic's mind and practice. He was, emphatically, the Apostle of vocal pray er. His own personal devotion was an example of ejaculatory prayer, akin to the Rosary method. His favorite prayer was the Our Father, over each syllable of which he lingered, especially at Mass. 576 SAINT DOMINIC. Next he loved the Hail Mary, "for in deed," says Castiglio, "no name after that of our Lord was so welcome to him as that sweet name of Mary, or so often on his lips." By the Rosary he renew ed the love of Mary throughout the world. He never began an important work without invoking her aid, and he left it to his brethren to do the same. One of his biographers adds, in words closely connected with this subject : — ' ' There is a kind of prayer wherein the soul makes the body serve as an instru ment of devotion, and this was often employed by the Blessed Dominic. The soul therein acts on the body, and the body reacts on the soul." The Rosary appears to be almost the spontaneous outcome of Dominic's interior spirit. The words of Pope Leo XIII fitly prove its supernatural power : — " The sect of the heretical Albigenses had found its way secretly and publicly into many Provinces. This detestable offshoot of the Manicheans, whose numerous errors it revived, spread hypocrisy, murder, and a deadly hatred to the Church. Hu man help against these insiduous, auda cious people was hardly to be expected, but the Rosary sent by God came to our aid by the power of the Blessed Virgin, the glorious destroyer of all heresies." The Battle of Muret. Count Raymund of Toulouse, the leader of the Albigenses, was amongst the smallest and meanest of the small and mean tyrants of the Middle Ages. His perjured banners sheltered hordes of lawless men, hired and fighting for pay and plunder. The words of Innocent III fully bear out the vile character of Ray mund and his followers: — "Suffer not the Church to perish," he wrote to the kings of England and France, "in this unhappy country, but come to her as sistance and combat valiantly against these heretics, who are worse than Sar acens." At the head of the Catholics was Count Simon de Montfort, father of the De Montfort who founded the English House of Commons. He was in all respects the opposite of Raymund. He was a brave man, truthful and religious, a worthy leader in the true cause, a fit heir to the chivalry which rescued the Holy Sepulchre. Under these two lead ers the war rolled on with varying suc cess, till the battle of Muret placed on De Montfort's brow the coronet of vic tory in 12 13. The circumstances of his triumph are notable. A Victory for the Rosary. Beleagured in the town of Muret, De Montfort, with only 800 horse, suddenly, by an extraordinary inspiration, threw himself upon the foe, 40,000 strong, and at one impetuous charge, scattered them like chaff before the wind, losing only eight men. The king of Aragon, Ray mund' s ally and kinsman, was slain, and the enemy wasted away like the hosts of Sennacherib. No wonder that this vic tory was considered to be nothing less than a miracle. De Montfort attributed the result to the prayers of the Rosary, and out of gratitude he built the first chapel in its honor at Muret. It is pleasant and significant to remem ber the friendship of Dominic when we think of the influence of De Montfert's family in English history. The younger Simon may well have derived the prin ciples of constitutional liberty, for which he fought and died at Evesham, from SAINT DOMINIC. 577 the broad and free mind of Dominic, in whose legislation they are so conspicu ous. The Order of Friar Preachers. Dominic was in his forty-sixth year. He had with him six companions. A citizen of Toulouse, Peter Cellani, gave himself and his house to the little com pany. "From the time they first re sided at Toulouse," says Malvenda, " The Blessed Dominic and his compan ions began to conform themselves to re ligious rule, and to perfect themselves more and more in humility." They all adopted the habit of the Canons Regu lar. Fulk, Bishop of Toulouse, and De Montfort gave substantial gifts of land and revenues to Dominic's design. In 12 1 5, for the second time, he was in Rome. The Lateran Council was in session, and he attended as the consultor to the Bishop of Toulouse. He sub mitted the plan of his Order to Pope In nocent III, who approved of it on con dition that it should be based on one of the older rules. The memorable and touching meeting between Dominic and St. Francis of As- sisi took place at this time. Falling on the neck of the Seraphic Patriarch, Do minic exclaimed, "Let us keep together, and no one shall prevail against us." Their kiss has joined the Dominican and Franciscan Orders in fraternal love ever since. Dominic returned to Toulouse, and together with his brethren, chose the Rule of St. Augustine, the oldest in the Western Church, upon which to found the Order, as the Pope desired. The title of Friar Preacher, so exactly ex pressive of the new design, was conferred by Innocent III himself, in a letter from 37-C F Vol. 2 Rome, and Dominic at once adopted it. On the way to Rome for the third time, the news reached him that Innocent III was dead. This was indeed a severe blow to his hopes. He journeyed on to find Honorius III filling the Chair of St. Peter. The new Pope at once took up the plan of the Order, bequeathed to him by Innocent, and gave it his formal approbation in two Bulls, the second of which is a summary of the first, and runs as follows : — " Honorius, Bishop, Servant of the Servants of God, to our dear son Domi nic, Prior of St. Romain, at Toulouse, and to your brethren, who have made or shall make profession of regular life, health and the apostolic benediction. We, considering that the brethren of your Order will be the champions of the Faith, and true lights of the world, do confirm the Order in all its lands and possessions, present and to come ; and we take the Order itself, with all its goods and rights, under our protection and government. Given at Santa Sa- bina, Rome, the first year of our Ponti ficate. Honorius." As if in ratification of the decree given by Christ's Vicar on earth, Dominic re ceived a vision of heavenly strength and consolation. One night, as he was pray ing in the Vatican Basilica, St. Peter and St. Paul appeared to him, the former giving him a staff, and the latter a book, with the words, "Go and preach, for to this ministry thou art called." As the vision faded from his gaze, he seemed to behold his brethren going forth, two and two, preaching the word to all nations. It is added by some writers that the Holy Ghost rested on his head in the 578 SAINT DOMINIC. form of a fiery tongue, that he was con firmed in grace, and freed from many temptations. From that time he carried a staff, with the Book of the Gospels and St. Paul's Epistles. Thus fully authorized and equipped for his great and world-wide mission, he turned again toward Toulouse. Before leaving Rome, he made his forma! pro fession, as the first Friar Preacher, in the hands of Pope Honorius. Dominic had been styled during for mer years Prior of Prouille. The title was replaced by that of Prior of St. Ro- main, when Fulk gave him the church of that name at Toulouse. The Master-thought of Dominic. The little company had not been idle in their Father's absence. A complete observance had been set up, and their number had grown from six to sixteen. They were sheltered by a lowly cloister adjoining the church of St. Romain. It was in May, 12 17, that Dominic promulgated to them the Bull of Con firmation. "Our Order is known to have been instituted from the beginning, for preaching and the salvation of souls." These words from the Dominican Con. stitutions express the master-thought of Dominic. From this he never swerved. The perfection of the Christian Priest hood was the means he sought to that end, and with nothing less would he be satisfied. That perfection he found clearly in the life and in the words of our Divine Lord. Without doubt he wished to transcribe his Rule from the Gospel. There he found the Divine words, "Do not possess gold nor silver, nor money in your purses. Carry neither purse, nor scrip, nor shoes, and salute no man by the way." The union of the Priesthood with the life of the Counsels was no new thing. Grave theologians think that the Apostles took vows of religion. (St. Thomas 2-2 88. 4. ad 3.) Dominic adopted a further element of free service. Permission is not required to feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty. Neither is it wanted to instruct the ignorant, to counsel the doubtful, to comfort the sorrowful. These works of mercy are open to all. The Order of Friar Preachers was an Order of author ized and commissioned Preachers. It was also an Order of Brothers, doing a lay work and near to the people, in fact, inseparably connected with their daily hopes, fears, and joys. The religious life came from the lips of Christ, and stands by His authority. The way of the Counsels is open to the soul as the path of its highest liberty. No man's leave need be asked to follow Christ. Confers Legislative Powers. St. Stephen Harding, Founder of the Cistercian Order, had in 1 166 introduced the General Chapter as an executive and moderating power in the old rules bind ing under sin. Dominic gave the Gen eral Chapter legislative powers. He added that the Rule should not bind under sin, except in the essential vows. In these two points he innovated on the prevalent monastic system. Subsequent Orders have copied these two principles. In many ways, chiefly when common property was introduced, has the Order tested and proved the wisdom which de vised its mode of government. St. Dominic is the Patriarch of the active Orders. The barbarians who trampled on the stones of Rome, the Saxons, the Celts, the Franks, were won SAINT DOMINIC. 579 to Christ by monks given by rule to soli tude and silence. A systematic course of sustained action was now demanded. The following passage from the Life of St. Richard of Chichester draws out the old and the new mode in their relation and contrast: — "Farming in all its branches was the order of the day among the Cistercians ; if they quitted the Ab bey gates, it was on horseback on their way to some grange belonging to the monastery ; there were granaries and stables in plenty, for the monks lived on th e produce of their farms. But among the Black Friars, those who issued from the house, went forth on foot to preach in the open air, at the foot of a cross, in some lonely outlying parish, or else in the cathedral of some town which con. tained a university. Some even might be seen taking their departure for dis tant lands, to preach the Gospel to the Saracen or the Tartar. Disputations in the Cloister. "Instead of the hoe, the plough and the reaping hook, the tools of the Domi nican were the pen, the ink-horn, and the copy-book, the book of Sentences (later the Summd), and the Bible. In the school of the Novices were going on Latin Grammar and Logic, and the sound of disputations might be heard in the cloister. This was all very unlike the houses of St. Bernard. But the spiritual and inward life of the two Orders was the same. There was the same love for meditation in both Orders. "At every turn of his busy life, whether trudging along the road in his vocation as preacher, or walking in his black mantle in the convent garden; whether on his knees in the church of his house at home, or in some distant land with Turks and heathen about him, the Friar was to be ever meditating on the great mysteries of the Faith." Rule of Executive Discretion. One peculiar feature stands out in Dominic's Rule — that of dispensation. It occupies a singular position, and, properly understood, may be called truly the crown and master- piece of his legis lation. This principle has in a very great degree enabled the Order to bend itself to needs, and to preserve its unity. It is not a legislative, but an executive, discretion. It combines in one law and fact, and makes the Rule a life. It is also a perfect instrument of the ascetic* spirit, entailing a surrender at all times of small views and low aims. It is dis pensation indeed, and not Rule. But in that light, Dominic insisted on it, and the Order has ever formally retained it. On the Feast of the Assumption, 12 17, the brethren all made their pro fession in the hands of Dominic. Two were to remain at Prouille, and two at Toulouse. Seven were sent to Paris, and four to Spain. Dominic himself, with one companion set out to reside in Rome. The surprise and remonstrance which, we are told, arose from this sudden dis persion, had a plain cause. It was not, as some suppose, the youth or ignorance of his brethren. Five out of his six teen companions had been priests for several years. Four others were men of worldly experience, probably also priests then. Some of these, like the Founder, must have been ripe and learned men in the fullest sense of the term. Further, many of them had long enjoyed his own 580 SAINT DOMINIC. personal guidance. Few founders in deed had started with so rich a store of trained disciples. The surprise came from a deeper source, and was natural and just from many points of view. Dominic had re stored Languedoc, and yet here he was at the very turn and restitution of affairs, leaving the country. He had raised his Order in the Province ; it had grown out of the special circumstances of the land. At the moment his work began it was torn from its parent soil, and Languedoc was again left exposed to the foe. De Montfort and Fulk saw the danger. For he was not only en couraging his enemies ; he was alien ating his friends. Remarkable Foresight. No event in Dominic's life more dis plays his deep sagacity than this disper sion. Events proved his foresight. He had by his long labors drawn out all the good there was in Languedoc, and it hardly made more than an equipoise against heresy. The country was ex hausted ; the deep evil required a deeper remedy. He saw that the Catholic fabric of success was slight. When, soon after, De Montfort died, the war was rekindled, the heretics dis covered his far-seeing wisdom. They found themselves confronted by no local foe, but outflanked by a universal oppo sition. Peace was restored when the sovereignty of Toulouse was merged in that of the French crown on the head of St. Louis. Dominic left Languedoc. What had been his work there ? Briefly, he had saved the West of Europe from becom ing stamped after the image of the East. In his day the fifth Crusade was in augurated under Innocent I II. It was followed by the sixth under Honorius III. Both were half-hearted expeditions. Then ensued a strange compromise and friendship between the Christians and Saracens. The Emperor Frederick II., who led the sixth crusade, tried to cement this fatal peace into an alliance. He spoke of his " friend the Sultan." He wished to plant Mahometanism in Europe, but he found it had no root ; the root had been cut off by St. Domi nic. St. Pius V. completed his work, when the Turkish wrecks were scattered upon the waves of Lepanto. By reason therefore of the evil which he had prevented, Dominic deserves, in the words of Balmez, that a statue should be erected to his memory, as to one who had at least deserved well of civiliza tion. When, three centuries later, the stroke of the Reformation fell upon Europe, through his action it shaped events, not after its parent " the spectral East," but in the modified form of heresy and schism. Journeys of St. Dominic. Dominic left for Rome in October, 1 2 1 7. His j ourneys, as an essential part of his apostolate, deserve a description. Four times he had crossed the Alps. Yet little is recorded of his wayfaring trials. He went along with the heart of an apostle, with a single eye to those mul titudinous souls " sitting by the wayside begging," who had perhaps small chance of instruction except what they might obtain from passing preachers such as he. He made his apostolic journeys serve apostolic needs. Not only the beginning and the end, but the progress of his journey yielded fruit. SAINT DOMINIC. 581 " With all his strength," says blessed Jordan, ' ' and with ardent zeal he sought to win souls to Christ without any ex ception, and as many as he could, and this zeal was marvellously, and in a way not to be expressed, rooted in his very heart." He thought of the faithful, his heart was with the heathen in the fur thest seas, he angled for the capture of heretics, and he did not forget the crowd of outlying souls who were, in a special sense, the object of the mendicant and missionary Brother. "He preached," we are told, "by night and by day, in houses, in the fields, and by the roadside." " He was most assiduous in preaching, ' ' says an early disciple, ' ' and his words were so touch ing that he often incited himself and hearers to tears, nor did I ever hear any man with such power to touch the heart with compunction." Rigors of Apostolic Journeys. The light in which he regarded these journeys is shown by his strict rule of life. "The Blessed Dominic," says the chronicler, ' ' the firm guardian of ob servance, did not remit anything of the monastic life during his frequent apos tolic journeys. He said Mass daily, if possible, and in the middle of Mass preached a sermon. He recited the Of fice by day and night at the proper hourSj and kept the silence according to rule and sending his companions apart, he nourished his soul with pious medita tions on Christ our Lord. He slept on straw, and oftener on the bare ground ; the fasts of the Order he never broke, either through fatigue or illness ; he sought hospitality wherever it might be hardest, and often fed his hosts, who were heretics, with the Word of the Spirit as he was fed in the flesh." His glowing thoughts found ready utter ance: — "Filled with the sacred fire of charity," says Theodoric, "he went about preaching everywhere the Word of God ; visiting the poor, consoling the afflicted, and healing the sick. The tenderness of his heart made him all charity to his neighbor, all compassion for the unfortunate. Everything had the power of touching his heart, but it was, above all, the sins of men which consumed him with grief and pity. So that when he approached any town or village, and beheld it from afar, he would melt into tears as he thought of the mis ery of its inhabitants." Blessed Jordan says, "one of his max ims was, that we should give the day to our neighbor, and the night to God. By day no one was more accessible and cheerful to his brethren, by night no one more watchful in prayer." In short, to quote the words of St. Catherine of Si ena, " He took on him the Office of the Word, the only begotten Son of God, and appeared in the world as an apostle, scattering the darkness of error and giv ing light.' ' Personal Appearance. An ancient tradition, cherished in the Order, has preserved the idea that in visage St. Dominic resembled our Lord. These words of Sister Cecilia have there fore all the deeper interest : — " He was about the middle height and slightly made ; his face beautiful and somewhat ruddy, his hair and beard fair, and his eyes very fine. From his forehead and between his brows there shone a light, which drew forth reverence and love from the beholders. He was ever joy ous and cheerful, except when stirred 582 SAINT DOMINIC. to pity by the affliction of others. His hands were long and beautiful, and his voice was clear, noble, and melodious. He was never bald, and he always pre served his religious tonsure perfect, mingled with a few gray hairs.' ' ' ' His forehead," relates another, "was broad and majestic, and his eyes had a singu lar beauty of expression and kindness in them." The charm of his manner agreed with this gracious aspect. He had indeed no sympathy with a morose face and a harsh rule. He was, among the Saints, the illus trious exponent of the Divine words, ' ' When you fast be not as the hypocrites, sad, ' ' (St. Matt. vi. ) As an index of his bearing to others, these words from the Constitutions of the Order are in point : "Excessive austerity in counsels and opinions impedes the salvation of souls, for men are terrified thereby to such a degree that they neglect their salvation. Wherefore, as far as possible, severity and austerity in counsels should be re laxed, and men are to be treated with be nignity, and we must try in those things which are not reprehensible to make ourselves agreeable to men, and to deal with them kindly and pleasantly." His Charity Founded in Humility. The charity of this great apostle was founded in humility. " Never did I see a man so humble," says a witness. He was a brother to his brethren. He often exclaimed, " O Lord have mercy ; what will become of sinners?" He said to his disciples, "If you have not your own sins to weep over, think of the mul titude of unhappy souls who need mercy, over whom our Lord Jesus Christ wept, and of whom the Prophet David said, ' I have beheld sinners, and I have with ered away with sorrow.'" From this zeal and lowliness of heart came a singu lar gift of consolation. ' ' He was, " says one, "the sovereign consoler of his brethren." Dominic passed through the world like a stream of light. The gift of il lumination was pre-eminently his. It is difficult to measure now his influence upon those who knew and saw him. From all accounts they looked up to him as an extraordinary personage, and their language seems unequal to pass on the impression they received. Wherever he went, the intellect seemed to be re conciled to Christian truth, and men took up willingly the hardest tasks. " Penance is a pleasure when preached by Master Dominic," was a saying cur rent in his great Languedoc days. This gift of persuasion was transfigured throughout, by that "serene wisdom," that childlike innocence, that sweet and unearthly spirit which, at its best, has made a place to itself of unrivalled beauty in Dominic's life and works, and in the annals of his Order. St. Sixtus. Dominic with his companion, Stephen of Metz, entered Rome in 1218, and, at the Pope's desire, took possession of the Church of St. Sixtus. Here the Order in his person settled in its centre, and at once began to expand. In three months he had given the habit to more than a hundred novices. " After the confirmation of his Order," says the chronicler, ' ' he passed nights almost sleepless in the church ; and at one time kneeling, then wholly pros trate on the ground he prayed ; and if a drowsiness came over his tired limbs, either leaning on the altar standing, or SAINT DOMINIC. 583 on a stone reclining, he rested awhile. Every night he disciplined himself to blood with an iron chain. His gift of tears was copious, especially when say ing Mass. He rejoiced in nothing so much as in his own contempt ; and ever preserved perfect purity of body and soul. The following description of Dominic as a religious Superior applies to this period: — "The Blessed Dominic ruled his Order with so much prudence and love that it was difficult which the more to admire, his care for religious observ ance or his practice of meekness and kindness. Zeal for justice raised him against vice, yet in such a manner as to unite him to the offender by the tie of benignity and love. He overlooked faults in a brother, till he saw him prepared to receive correc" tion in peace and humility, lest the spirit should be bruised by inopportune reproof. Daily, if possible, he gave an instruction to the brethren on religious discipline. The sorrows and trials of others drew from him so sweet a sym pathy that he soothed every sadness by so great affection." In time, increasing numbers suggested other foundations. The first chosen was Bologna, a great legal and univer sity centre. The beloved Bertrand was made the first superior there. Santa Sabina. Meanwhile Rome was filled with the name and veneration of Dominic. The people " followed him wherever he went, as though he were an angel, cut ting off pieces of his habit to keep as relics." It was a happy coincidence that the Pope's Bull of Confirmation should have been dated from Santa Sabina, a name inseparably linked with that of Dom inic. St. Sabina was a rich widow lady of high birth in Umbria. She had a Christian servant named Seraphia, a Syrian, whose virtue touched her heart and led her to the Faith, and whose name became illustrious as a martyr. Sabina was also martyred in Rome under Adrian. Her feast is on August 29th. The church on the Aventine was dedi cated in honor of both saints, but at present bears the name of St. Sabina. St. Sixtus was, after awhile, given up to nuns, who took the Rule established at Prouille. Dominic with his brethren moved to Santa Sabina on the Aventine. An old church stood there, adjoining t6 which was the Pontificial Palace. Close Relation to Pontificate. The position which Dominic occu pied in so close a relation to the Ponti ficial Court is not easy to understand. At all events he was in the very centre of activity and observation. He soon made his influence felt in that cause always near his heart. To provide for the occupation of the Cardinal's domes tics, idly tarrying in the Papal ante chambers, he began a lectureship in St. Paul's Epistles. This grew into a per manent office, the holder of which is called the Master of the Sacred Palace, always a Dominican. Dominic also taught in the public schools, and both students and prelates listened to him and gave him the title of "Master." It is conjectured that from this office the University of Rome took its rise. He preached often, espe cially in St. Peter's. The date when the Popes left the Aventine is unknown. Meanwhile, 584 SAINT DOMINIC. Dominic had free scope in the consoli dation of his Order. His chief energies were given to the brethren, who in the autumn of his life fell upon his path with the plentifulness of autumn leaves, but not with their decay. No, the seeds sown in Languedoc, along the highways of France and Italy, that had lain long in the cold and silent earth scourged by the rains and storms of sharp seasons, now blossomed forth in hues of manifold beauty. But his heart was, as ever, fixed on God. His thoughts were in the courts of the blessed, now that he was exalted, even as when he was "the reproach of the rich and the contempt of the proud." The Aventine Hill retains one mem ory — that of Dominic. In the garden flourishes the orange tree planted by his own hand. The Chapter-room re_ mains, wherein he gave the habit to St. Hyacinth, the Apostle of the North, and to his brother, Blessed Ceslas. The rapid growth of the Order was marked by a memorable change in the habit. Through a vision of Our Blessed Lady, granted to the Blessed Reginald, the white scapular was substituted for the Canon Regulars' linen rochet. Foundation of Third Order. The foundation of the Third Order took place about this time; Dominic established it as a military society for the defence of Catholic interests, and named it the ''Militia of Jesus Christ." It was thus sanctioned by Honorious III. The members wore a white tunic and a black mantle, on which was dis played the Cross of the Order. After the Saint's death, Gregory IX. changed its name to Order of Penance of St. Dominic, and with time the military duties were dropped. St. Catherine of Siena, St. Catherine of Ricci, St. Rose of Lima, are the three canonized Saints of the Third Order. Many legends, both of angels and demons, cluster round Dominic at Santa Sabina. The attacks of the great enemy of souls are futile and frivolous, and often ridiculous. They are like the spent stones of a defeated foe. On the other hand, the intervention and help of friendly angels were never more lovingly displayed. A Life of Faithfulness. "It was the constant habit of the venerable Father," says a biographer, " to spend the whole day in winning souls by continual preaching, or by hearing confessions, or in other works of charity." The Founder and Master- General of the Order did not excuse himself from preaching. By such active works as these did he write his Rule upon his living flesh, before it appeared on paper. A written Rule is not a help but a hindrance, if it be written too soon. Dominic believed in life first, in codes second. With a tact truly spiritual did he build up and set stone on stone in that edifice which he desired above all to be a living organi zation. His apostolic journeys were not relaxed. He frequently made ex cursions in aid of souls, preaching with ever-quickening zeal. In 1 218 he set out on his last long journey. He visited Toulouse once more. Then he crossed to Spain, which he had not seen since leaving it with Diego. There he spent several months, and made foundations at Segovia, Madrid, and Saragossa. He is traced at Palencia by words in the will of SAINT DOMINIC. 585 Antony Sers, who leaves a bequest to the Rosary Confraternity, " founded by the good Dominic Guzman." He then recrossed the Pyrenees and visited Paris, founding six houses from that city. Thence he returned to Italy, and took up his residence at Bologna. Bologna. Reginald was sent to Paris, and Dominic assumed the government of the Convent at Bologna. " He found at the Convent of St. Nicholas, " says Blessed Jordan, " a large community of brethren, who were being carefully trained under the discipline of Reginald They all received him with joy, and shewed him reverence as their Father, and he, living with them, formed the yet young and tender family by his teaching and example." A General Chapter was now arranged. In view of the event, the Pope con ferred on Dominic the formal title of Master-General. The Chapter was con vened at Bologna, on the Feast of Pen tecost, 1 220. Dominic offered the resignation of his office at the Chapter. His zeal for souls grew with age, and he desired to be free, so that he might preach to the Tartars. The Fathers, however, would not consent to his abdication. Thus confirmed in authority, he gave only a still more perfect example. ' ' Placed over the brethren as Master," says Theo- doric, " he was noted only for a deeper humility and a more exact austerity." To others he never failed to make the Rule sweet. ' ' Never," we are told, ' ' did Blessed Dominic cause bitterness in any brother's heart ; he never irritated them by word or deed ; for, indeed, nothing bitter could flow from such a spring of charity. His heart was so large towards others, that he looked to their bodily wants with the utmost tenderness ; not only giving the frugal fare by rule, but often better food lest the young should be discouraged, or the older yield to in firmity. Thus condescending to all, even in correcting his severity was mingled with compassion. When he laughed, as he did sometimes, his laughter came from the same spirit of sweetness and sim plicity. For he was, above all things, true and simple ; and to such a charac ter, laughter is not unsuitable. All, therefore, rejoiced at his presence, and his delightful conversation made all pri vations supportable, and every hardship sweet." In Rome for the Last Time. In December, 1220, he was seen in Rome, for the last time. Then he bade farewell to Santa Sabina. His memory is there perpetually, and every corner of the Aventine breathes forth the perfume of his name. His well remembered cell is now a chapel, and in it is the follow ing inscription : — Attende advena, hie olim sanctissimi viri Dominicus, Fran- ciscus, et Angelus Carmelita in divinis colloquiis vigiles pernoctarunt. (Heark en, stranger ! on this spot it was that of yore the most holy men, Dominic, Fran cis, and Angelus the Carmelite, spent the night in celestial colloquy). Dominic returned to Bologua for the second General Chapter in 1221, when the Order was divided into eight provin ces, Spain, France, Provence, Lombardy, Rome, Germany, Hungary and England. There were at that time sixty convents. A remarkable distinction was con ferred on Dominic after the Chapter by 586 SAINT DOMINIC. the city of Bologna. The magistrates formally presented him with the freedom of the city, to descend to his successors. The official document declares that the motives for the act are the Saint's learn ing, his great actions, his position as Founder of the Order and his noble birth. This political esteem, as it may be styled, was shared by the brethren at that period in other places. " Many of these cities," says the chronicler, "de liver their statutes to the friars, to be changed and amended as they think good." About this time Dominic received a novice who became famous as St. Peter Martyr, who died for the Faith, writing Credo with his ebbing blood. Wonder ful to say, his assassin, Carino de Balsa- mo, was converted, entered the Order, and died forty years later, after a life of rigid penance, which earned for him the title of il beato. Dominic did not fail to infuse his apostolic spirit into his brethren. " The first brethren of the Order," says the chronicler, "journeyed on the roads, scattering the seed of the Divine word. Every member seemed changed into a tongue, for everything about them con tinued to preach of penance and holiness. The Saint's Death. The Chapter over, Dominic visited the North of Italy, preaching. The shadow, or rather the halo of death was on his brow. His vigorous frame had bent under illness the previous year, and signs of the end were not wanting. Yet few if any of his brethren and friends realized that he was parting with them, that the wonderful life of incessant ac tivity and austerity, was soon to close. " Having reached to perfect sanctity," says Theodoric, " our Blessed Father St. Dominic received the gift of prophecy from our Lord, who made known to him the hour of death. As he prayed one night, consumed with the desire of ap pearing before God, he saw a beautiful youth who said, " Come, my beloved, and enter into joy." Before leaving Bologna, he had said to some friends," "You see me now in health, dear friends ; know that before the Feast of the Assumption, I shall have left this world and be with God." Attacked by fever he returned to Bo logna, preaching all the way from Ven ice, the last words uttered by his apos tolic voice. On arrival, he attended Matins, and then succumbed to the vio lence of the malady. " He consoled and exhorted the brethren," says Ven tura, " with sweet words and a smile ; and all the time he was ill, he never complained, nor did he utter a groan, but was cheerful and joyous." Parting Admonitions. At his own request, he was laid on a piece of sacking stretched along the ground. Having received the last Sa craments, he said to those around him : " Dearest brethren, by the singular gift of God, perfect virginity has been pre served to me up to this hour ; which, if you also guard it jealously, you will wonderfully prevail among the people by purity of life and the odor of a good name. " Then he contin ued : — " Go on fervently in the service of our Lord, and extend the Order now only beginning. To serve God you know is to reign, but we must serve Him with our whole heart. Be firm in a good life, be faith ful to the Rule, and grow in virtue. Be hold, my sons, what I give you as a SAINT DOMINIC. 587 heritage ; have charity, guard humility, and find your treasure in voluntary pov erty." A short time he was silent, and it is believed that in those moments our Lady appeared to him, and promised her perpetual protection to his Order. Ven tura, his confessor, said to him : — " Dear Father, you leave us desolate and af flicted ; remember us before God." The Saint raised his failing hands and eyes and said : — " Holy Father, as by Thy mercy I have always done Thy Will, and have kept those Thou didst give me, I commend them now to Thee. Keep them, preserve them." Then fixing on them his last loving glance, he uttered the memorable promise, never forgotten : — "Do not weep, my children ; I shall be of more'help to you where I am go ing, than I have been in this life." His Death a Severe Loss. The cloud of death crept over that starry brow. It was noon, 6th August, 1 22 1. He was fifty years of age. Sud denly and simply ended his career on earth. The blow of so great a loss seemed at first to stun the brethren. They stood for a long time silent, weeping. " They had reason to mourn," says Castiglio, " at the loss of their father, pastor and friend, given them by God. He had been their refuge in trouble, their re source, ready ever to console, with words of counsel or compassion, those who had left all things for the love of God." Cardinal Ugolino, the Saint's constant friend, came from Venice to conduct the obsequies, in presence of many Bishops and Prelates, and a great multitude of people. Albert, Prior of the Carmelites, came forward in tears to embrace the body of his friend. As he turned away his face shone with joy. "Dear Father," he said to the Prior of St. Nicholas, "re joice with me. The Blessed Father has told me that we shall be re-united soon." And the event proved the words, for he died the same year. Dominic's first tomb was built of strong substance in the Church of St. Nicholas, "and there," says the chronicler, "was laid to rest this treasure more precious than gold, purer than silver, and nobler than all imaginable jewels." Signs of Saintly Beatitude. Supernatural signs were not wanting of the Saint's beatitude. A cleric of Bologna, in a dream, saw the Blessed Father on the throne, gloriously crown ed, and said, "Are not you, Brother Dominic, lately dead?" "My son," replied the Saint, " I am not dead, fori have a good Master, with whom I live." A brother of Santa Sabina seemed to see the road stretching from Bologna, and along it was walking Dominic, be tween two men of venerable aspect, and he was crowned with a golden coronet, and was dazzling with light. A sweet perfume emanated from the tomb. Mira cles speedily occurred. Soon his place of burial was covered with grateful of ferings. The body was translated to a more fitting shrine under Blessed Jordan. Cardinal Ugolino was then Pope, by the title of Gregory IX. Not being able to attend the translation, he deputed the Archbishop of Ravenna in his place. Three hundred of the brethren assisted at the ceremony. St. Dominic was canonized by Grego ry IX, on the 13th July, 1234, at Rieti. 588 SAINT DOMINIC. With what feelings of veneration, added to a friend's joy, the Pope performed the act, so fittingly reserved for him, may be gathered from his words to the Car dinals : " I have no more doubt of the sanctity of this man than I have of that of St. Peter and St. Paul." Body Translated to a New Tomb. The body was again translated to a richer tomb in 1 267. The present mar ble shrine was erected in 1469, by Nich olas Pisano, and is justly praised as the sculptor's masterpiece. ' ' As you behold this tomb," says Pere Lacordaire, "you feel that the artist was divinely guided to express the sanctity of him whose dust it covers." St. Dominic left some writings, but they have perished. They comprised a Commentary on St. Paul and St. Matthew a treatise on the Rosary and on the Holy Eucharist. His book tried by fire at Fanjeaux, is said to have been a treatise on the " Flesh of Christ, ' ' and to have contained a luminous defence of the Immaculate Conception of our Lady, founded on the argument, "As the first Adam was made of virgin earth which had never been cursed, so was it fitting that the second Adam should be made in like manner." The province of England was erected at the second General Chapter, 122 1. Gilbert de Fresnoy, with twelve com panions, founded the first house at Ox ford, on a site occupied by the present gas works, near the river. The church was dedicated to St. Nicholas, no doubt in memory of Bologna. The buildings in time occupied three acres of land. Among the famous men connected with this first English Priory were Robert Bacon, Bromyard, Claypole, Holcot, Fishacre, Kilwarby, Cardinal and Arch bishop of Canterbury, Trivet the histo rian, Walter Malclerk, Bishop of Carlisle and Lord High Treasurer, abandoned his dignities and joined the Order, an example followed by other Prelates. Simon de Bouil, Prior, was Chancellor of the University in 1238. In eighteen years there were fifteen houses in Eng land; in 1227 there were forty. There was one Convent of Nuns at Dartford, engaged in teaching. At the dissolution) there were fifty-two houses, the greater number founded by kings or the no bility. Among the English Saints, St. Richard of Chichester is thought by some to have belonged to the Order — at least he was joined to it in heart and spirit, as the following passage proves, from an ancient life by Friar Ralph : — "O Richard, servant of Christ, think upon the condition of life to which, in earlier days, thou didst propose to bind thyself by vow ; and though God or dered it otherwise, and thou couldst not accomplish thy wish, yet rejoice now> for thou hast obtained grace virtually to fulfil thine intention. Dost thou ask what life I mean ? I answer the life of a preaching Friar." Among the literary remains of the old English Dominicans, may be mentioned the famous "Ancren Riwle." The Pro vince, ruined and dispersed in the six teenth century, was restored in the sev enteenth century by Cardinal Howard, who died in 1690. The Mission of the Order. Thirteen canonized Saints adorn the Order of Preachers : — St. Hyacinth, St. Peter Martyr, St. Raymund, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Antoninus, St. Vincent Ferrer, St. Lewis Bertrand, St. Pius V, SAINT DOMINIC. 589 St. John of Gorcum, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Agnes, St. Catherine of Ricci, St. Rose of Lima. Among the innum erable Blessed may be named Blessed Reginald, Blessed Albert the Great, Blessed Henry Suso. The first and one of the greatest works in the Order's public mission was the foundation of the Scholastic Philosophy and Theology. St. Thomas was the in strument of this vast enterprise. In the words of Cardinal Newman, "It was the magnificent aim of the children of St. Dominic to form the whole matter of human knowledge into one harmoni ous system, to secure the alliance be tween religion and philosophy, and to train men to the use of the gifts of na ture in the sunlight of divine grace and revealed truth." It was the mission of Fra Angelico, the Dominican artist, to carry the purest lines of truth into mani festation before the eye. These significations of its high and spiritual mind render just the title of the Friar Preachers to be the Order of Christian Genius. The Dominican Order is, in history, the great University Order. Its method of teaching stands out in contrast to the old monastic schools, which, in some respects, were simply nurseries, and in contrast also to the modern single Col lege. It created or animated those in stitutions which dot mediaeval Europe, like gems of splendor. No Order, formally as such, has been so closely identified with the government of the Church. This fact is in itself ample testimony to the wisdom, modera- ation and equity of the Dominican char acter. The missionary zeal of the Order is proved by the astonishing yet well-at tested fact that in the first century of its existence its martyrs numbered over 12,000. The Order has given four Popes to the Church : Innocent IV, Blessed Benedict XI, St. Pius V, Benedict XIII. From the record of his life, even the cursory reader will gather the impression that St. Dominic was a man of conspicu ous and eminent talent. He was pro bably one of the greatest orators that ever lived. The gifts of a lawgiver and of a statesman were also displayed to a high degree in the rise and organization of his Order. St. Dominic is one of the celebrated figures in the story of the world. He is one of the great Saints in the Church of God. His life is a spiritual and intel. lectual landmark, dividing ages. Let us end these pages with the beau tiful anthem of thechurch, sung in Do minican churches throughout the world. "O Light of the Church, Doctor of Truth, Rose of Patience, Ivory of Chas tity, thou didst give the water of wisdom freely ; Preacher of grace join us to the Blessed." ST. ANNE, THE BLESSED VIRGIN AND THE INFANT JESUS. SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. Saint Charles borromeo BY rvl. O. B. rvlALINS- "O PERIOD in the history of the Church furnishes more striking proof of her indestructibility than the sixteenth century. If ever the gates of hell could have prevailed, they would surely have done so then. Taking a glance over Europe, we find every country passing through some crisis, none wholly free from the destructive scourge of the devil's work. Everywhere political wars and intri gues were going on, error had broken the bonds by which rulers and people are united, and there was nothing to re place them. Party strove with party for pre-eminence, and the result was la mentable. But ' ' the deeper the darkness, the brighter the morn," and from out that darkness of sin and misery there shone forth in many a land some of the bright est lights that have illumined the Church. Among these is St. Charles Borromeo, who was raised up by God to be essentially a " Reformer." To the faithful few the need of reform was ever present and keenly longed for, and to it St. Charles gave his life, and has left his mark, both by his influence at the Coun cil of Trent and by the wonders he wrought in his diocese of Milan. His fervor and zeal never relaxed and were always turned towards the same object. It was no new work or organi zation that absorbed his energies, but his task was none the less difficult. Such was St. Charles Borromeo — a model of sanctity, a defender of the liberties of the Church, a shepherd whose sole care was his flock, a priest burning with the love of souls, a saint who endeared himself to the poor and afflicted by his self-sacrifice and devo tion to their needs. He carried his flock through many dangers. Charles Borromeo was born in Octo ber, 1538, at Arona, a small town on the shores of Lake Maggiore. Sprung from one of the oldest families in Italy, his ancestors had been eminent both in Church and State, as well as in the army and among men of letters. His father, Count Gilbert Borromeo, combined great piety with rare diplo matic ability, his private life being mark. ed by a sanctity unique amid the de pravity of the times ; and from him our saint learnt his love of prayer and ten der solicitude for the poor. The mother of St. Charles, Margaret de Medici, sis ter of the Cardinal de Medici, after wards Pope Pius IV, was a worthy wife of the Count, both by nobility of family and the practice of virtue. When he was twelve years old, an uncle resigned in his favor a rich abbey not far from his home ; yet, despite his youth, Charles recognized its revenues to be the patrimony of Christ, and re solved they should be spent in the ser vice of the poor. Charles had already shown great love of study. "You do not know this young man," said one of his masters ; "he will one day be the reformer of the Church and will do wonderful things." It was while he was studying at Milan that the death of his mother occurred, an event 591 592 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. that increased the already serious bend of his mind, and at this time particular ly his letters are marked by a tender devotion to his family. From Milan, he went in his fifteenth year to complete his studies at the uni versity of Pavia, which then held a high reputation for learning. With his life at Pavia many troubles enter into the life of our Saint, all of which he met with wonderful resignation and a strength of character far beyond his years. As a Saint is, however, made and not born, we cannot fail to note that he was keenly sensible to the many an noyances to which he was subjected. He was of Noble Lineage. Being of a noble house, he was oblig ed to retain a certain retinue which proved a constant source of trouble to him, and when, as often happened, he was without money and in sore straits owing to the ill conduct of his house hold, his innate pride and strong emo tion would plainly show themselves. At the age of twenty-two he took his doctor's degree. During these years of study his father died, and, though only a younger son, the charge of the family fell to him, and in this task he found a field for the exercise of the prudence he afterwards showed in dealing with the affairs of the Church. The death of Pope Paul IV. and the election of Cardinal de Medici in the year 1559 was the dawn of a glorious future for the two young nephews of the new Pontiff Pius IV. Count Freder ick, the brother of St. Charles hastened at once to Rome, where much honor awaited him, but nothing could disturb the habitual serenity of Charles. On hearing the news of his uncle's election, he strengthened his soul with the Sacra ments and urged his brother to do the same. He was not, however, to remain long in obscurity. The new Pope recognized and appreciated his extraordinary tal ents and sanctity, and wished to employ him in the service of the Church. Charles was at once created a Cardinal Deacon and entrusted with many high offices at the Vatican, besides being made Administrator of the See of Milan. These offices were accepted only from a spirit of obedience and as a means of be ginning the reform already dear to his heart. His rare intellectual qualities soon determined the Pope to make him his Secretary of State. The customs of the times demanded that one holding offices of such dignity in the Church should live in a manner conformable to them, and St. Charles thought he would serve God more effica ciously if he did not cut himself off too ostentatiously from these customs. But despite the apparent grandeur of his household, he himself led a frugal life, preserving always a spotless integrity and purity of heart. In his anxiety to banish idleness from the Papal Court, he instituted what were known as "Vatican Nights." These were meet ings of clergy and laity for the cultiva tion of the fine arts, the practice of ora tory, and the reading of holy books. Inspired a Horror for Vice. The real object of St. Charles, how ever, was to inspire in those who attend ed a horror of vice and a love of virtue ; he hoped, too, to revive the ancient cus tom of Bishops preaching, by inducing them to speak on these occasions. The death of his brother, Count Frederick, SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 593 in the year 1562, filled his mind more than ever with a sense of the hollowness of earthly glory, and made him determ ine to adopt a stricter rule of life. A Jesuit Father, whom he chose for his confessor, was his constant companion, and helped him largely by the spiritual exercises. Being the last surviving member of his family, he was urged to marry, but at once put an end to any such idea by being hurriedly ordained in Rome, and asked forgiveness for his haste from the Pope, saying, "I am now wedded to the Spouse I have so long desired." He was made Cardinal-Priest by the title of Santa Prassede and soon consecrated Bishop. Established a College in Milan. During all this time he had not for gotten Milan, but had sent some Jesuit Fathers to give missions, and employed the revenues received by the death of his brother, in the foundation of a col lege for the training of youths at Pavia. It was his ardent desire to return to Milan and devote himself to the care of his diocese. Afraid, however, of guid ing himself in such a matter, he asked the advice of Don Bartholomew of the Martyrs, an eminent and pious Domini can, who said he could not leave the aged Pontiff to carry his heavy burden alone; and though even the monastic life had strong attractions for him, and he yearned "to live as if there were only God and himself in the world," this longing was not to be realized, for the same priest pointed out to him the spec ial work for which God had placed him in his exalted position. He was, as Don Bartholomew saw, the soul which should give life to the 38-C F Vol. 2 Pope's endeavor to establish peace in the Church by means of a solid reform. Though heresy had severed many from the fold, it was not too late to take strong precautions to prevent further losses, and it was St. Charles who en couraged the Pontiff to carry on the work of his predecessors by the renew al of the Council of Trent, in which lay the sole remedy for an evil so universal — an idea which met with the support and warm approval of the Cardinals as sembled in Consistory. The Council had been first convoked by Pope Paul III., in 1536, but, owing to many interruptions, had never pro duced any definite results. The difficul ties in the way of its renewal are easily- understood by considering the confused state of Europe. Germany objected to its being held at Trent and wished its seat to be either Cologne or Ratisbon, with the Pope pre siding in person; England would hear nothing of it at all, Elizabeth refusing even to receive the Papal Nuncio; France held tenaciously to the idea of a National Council; while no support could be expected from Switzerland, then a chaos of petty princes and politi cal quarrels. Overcomes Obstacles. Such obstacles would have seemed to any ordinary intellect insuperable, but the Cardinal by his admirable tact suc ceeded in pacifying the European Pow ers and made them realize that in the renewal of the Council lay the sole means of securing their thrones. Thus he contrived to assemble and bring to a successful termination this the greatest of all the Oecumenical Councils. The nature of the questions it was called 594 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. upon to discuss, comprising as they did all Catholic doctrine and ecclesiastical discipline, together with the grandeur of its results, render it unique. The Holy Father, to implore the bless ing of Heaven upon it, proclaimed a Jubilee, and ordered public prayers to be said in every church in Rome, while he himself with his Cardinals went bare footed in procession from church to church. But even after the Council had been convoked, fresh difficulties arose and renewed demands for delay were made, the most urgent of which came from France. Resistance to Heresy. The Queen Regent, Catherine of Medici, could with difficulty be brought to realize the necessity of a firm resis tance to heresy, for, dominated by a love of power, the thought of extending her authority alone filled her mind, and it needed all the astuteness and keen intel lect of St. Charles to combat this sover eign and the crafty guiles of her insin uating courtiers. The young Secretary of State inter preted to her the wishes and desires of the Pope, and but for his patience and skill in dealing with the obstacles she put in the way of the Council, France would certainly have lost the Faith at this time. To remedy the ills and strengthen the chains of discipline which the times and the degenerate character of priests and people had made loose, it was necessarv to adopt rigid measures in regard to both dogma and discipline, for only thus could a widespread, thorough, and lasting re form be effected. The entire correspondence connected with this immense work was personally conducted by the Cardinal, aiid rest was almost unknown to him during the sit tings of the Council, or indeed after wards when its decrees had to be en forced. It was his mind that ruled, his intellect that advised, his prudence that calmed, his energy that stimulated, and his perseverance that gave success to the Council of Trent. Reform in Milan. As already stated, the work of reform at Milan had begun during the residence of St. Charles in Rome. The Jesuits he had sent, assisted in teaching at the seminary for the education of priests, and also in the education of children — a work very close to the heart of St. Charles. He also effected several minor reforms in the monasteries and convents of the city, but the difficulties of bring ing anything to a successful issue while absent from home, were great and seem ed to increase. Pius IV., moved at last by the entreaties of his nephew, allowed him to go to Milan to assemble his suf fragan bishops in a first Provincial Council. The entry of their Archbishop into Milan was an occasion of great rejoic ing to the people, who erected triumphal arches and hung the streets with rich draperies. The Provincial Council was opened by a procession of bishops to the Cathedral, which in itself was edifying to the people, who had not seen any ceremony performed with decency and reverence for years, much less with dig nity and splendor. The Archbishop sang Mass and preached in a manner which moved all present, from the words, "With desire have I desired to eat this Pasch with you." This Coun cil served as a model for all succeeding SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 595 ones, and lasted through many sessions St. Charles besought his suffragans to assist him in enforcing the decrees of the Council of Trent, and to give them selves wholly to the duties of their sac red calling. He implored all present in eloquent words ever to bear in mind and copy the example of the Apostles; like them to be filled with an ardent de sire for the salvation of souls, to be sim ple, humble, and modest, and by their assiduity in prayer to obtain the neces sary giace from God to lead back their flocks to the Supreme Pastor who gave His life for His sheep. Regulations for Clergy. This Council drew up minute regula tions for bishops and clergy, and proved the first stone laid by the Archbishop in the new spiritual life he desired to form in his beloved city. These regulations were sent to Rome for confirmation, and met with the warm approval of the Pope, who returned them with a re quest that St. Charles should hasten to Trent to receive, in his capacity of Papal Legate, the Emperor Maximil ian's sisters, and conduct them to Fer- rara and to Tuscany respectively. It was whilst fulfilling this duty that he was summoned to the death-bed of the Pontiff. He arrived in time to ad minister the last Sacraments to the dying Pope, and, together with St. Philip Neri, assisted him to make a holy death. St. Charles, desirous that the new Pontiff should be one eager for re form, labored to procure the election of the Cardinal of Alessandria, who be came the able and saintly Pius V. Three months later, being again free to return to his diocese, he began there in good earnest his reforming work. It would be impossible even to mention the vari ous changes effected by him; suffice it to touch on the most important. The city of Milan was one of the larg est in Italy, and the diocese contained over 2,000 churches. The clergy num bered over 3,000, and there were in addi tion 70 convents of women, omitting 20 suppressed by St. Charles, and 100 com munities of men. The diocese had an area of over 100 miles, including parts of Venice and Switzerland, and extend ed even along the shores of the Medi terranean. The rough and wild passes of the Alps and the nature of the country gen erally, made it difficult to traverse. No archbishop had resided in Milan for more than eighty years, and, owing to the want of any ecclesiastical jurisdic tion, the diocese was like a field over grown with weeds. This sad state of things was fully realized by the Arch bishop, whose first care was to regulate his own household. That at least was to be exemplary. Both for the spiritual and temporal welfare of those in his house, who for the most part were ecclesiastics, he laid down rules to be rigidly observed. Strong Perceptions. Possessed of an extraordinary gift of recognizing at once the qualities and capabilities of those with whom he came in contact, he tested severely their character, and any one showing signs of ambition would not long be tolerated by him. It was his wish to train an effi cient band of auxiliaries to help him in his work of reform, and he brought back with him from Rome many priests dis tinguished for piety and learning. Thus from the household of St. Charles there 596 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. issued later men illustrious alike for learning and spirituality. He next turned to the regulation of numbered nearly four hundred. All re ceived salaries from him, and were for bidden to receive presents of any kind. if ^ If fall mfimwk ill I inn WmSkM i'^^ilfelpl^^^lliifiill flilll^^¦¦¦¦¦Iv JH11IH1K Wmm H THE CATHEDRAL OP MILAN, his diocese, and his scheme of organiza tion is a marvel for its minuteness of detail. He was careful that every office should be filled by earnest workers, who When not away in the diocese, they resided in his palace, and those whom he had appointed as "Visitors" met in his presence every week for what was SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 597 called "The Congregation of Disci pline," when all matters needing reform were discussed, and the wants of each separate district and parish made- known. Another congregation had for its object the care of religious houses, a vicar and visitors having charge of the spiritualities, while another body, com posed partly of clergy and partly of lay men, were responsible for all temporal matters. Organization of Diocese. Thus deprived of the load of business cares, the religious were able to apply themselves solely to their spiritual ad vancement, and St. Charles, by visits and by words of encouragement and counsel, filled them with a desire of good. The Sovereign Pontiff had placed sev eral religious orders under the protec tion of the Cardinal, and among them the Order of St. Francis needed his special care. With the idea of reform ing themselves, the religious had sepa rated into various branches, which in course of time had all become equally degenerate, and, by reason of their sepa ration, had lost the restraining influence and support of the main body. Many lived in separate houses, sur rounded by luxury, enjoying revenues in a way that made their lives little dif ferent from those of the outside world. All idea of equality had vanished ; inter ior factions had destroyed the peace of the cloister, and the beauty of virtue had ceased to appeal to their minds. To suppress such abuses, St. Charles de termined to unite the different denomi nations into one body, to forbid to the superiors all claim to personal property, and to found a novitiate in which a love of holy poverty should be enforced, thus restoring to the Order its ancient splen dor and the spirit of its seraphic foun der. At a congregation convoked by the Cardinal for the appointment of a new Father-General, he met with consider able opposition, the monks insulting and threatening him, besides treating with contempt the authority of the Holy See in his person. Though St. Charles dis played great discretion and patience in dealing with them, he was determined to accomplish his end, and when the monks had once acknowledged their fault and accepted his decrees, he treat ed them with paternal charity and mercy, and even pleaded with the Pope on their behalf. The "Prati Umiliati." The Franciscans, however, did not prove such an obstacle in the way of monastic reform as the order known as the "Frati Umiliati." St. Charles had obtained from Rome two briefs, one em powering him to employ a part of the revenues of the superiors of all houses of the Order in the foundation of a novitiate, the other to enforce any regu lations he might deem necessary for the introduction of a serious reform. Unable openly to resist his determi nation to uproot the evil practices of their Order, these religious accepted his reform apparently with submission, but only to break out later in a spirit of rebellion against him as crafty and sinis ter as it is possible to imagine. Meanwhile the cathedral and its chap ter had not escaped the attention of the Cardinal, who recognized the necessity of making the metropolitan church a model for the rest of his diocese. Es- 598 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. pecial care was given to the regulation of the chapter. Owing to insufficient means, the canons had been obliged to accept a multiplicity of benefices, which hindered them from residence, and so crippled the services of the cathedral that the daily recital of the Divine Of fice was often rendered impossible. Cathedral Made a Model. St. Charles suppressed a few canon- ries altogether, and amalgamated their revenues with other sums procured for the purpose of enforcing residence by supplying the canons with sufficient in comes. It was a great joy to his heart that they accepted these reforms with docility. He knew they could be of great assistance to him, and it was his desire to gain their affection, and to be able to regard them as fellow-workers, to whom he could always turn for sup port. He took great delight in being much in their society, and always joined them in choir when his duties permit ted. Each had his own special duties, and they took their turn in teaching, preach ing, and hearing confessions in the cathedral, as well as in carrying out the functions with due dignity and decorum. The cathedral itself underwent great changes, St. Charles being zealous that it should be made a worthy house of God. Accordingly he removed all non- ecclesiastical monuments, and substi tuted holy statutes and pictures to aid the devotion of the people. The choir was magnificently restored and richly decorated, and the high altar raised so as to be seen by all. The singers were divided into different choirs, and only music of an elevating character was al lowed, all instruments, except the organ, being prohibited. Appointment of Sacristans. Sacristans with different functions were appointed, and everything was regulated so as to procure reverent and orderly behavior among those attending the services. It must indeed have been a source of consolation to our Saint to see the devotion which his reform pro duced in his flock. The people of Milan, attracted by these wonderful changes, began to attend the cathedral again, and on Sundays and holidays spent long hours in prayer and in listening to their Archbishop, who frequently broke to them the Word of God. St. Charles desired to spread the re form to the other churches of his city, for all had need of it. In every parish he strictly enforced residence, and where this had become impossible, be cause of the priest holding more than one cure, he ruled that all except one, which he left to their choice, should be given up, and undertook to supply what was thereby deficient in the revenue. The Saint would gather together his priests and learn from each his mode of living and the spiritual requirements of their parishes, thus rendering it easier for him to provide for them by decrees in the periodical synods and councils. He also encouraged the establishment of societies and confraternities in each parish and gave them rules for their in stitution. One more strongly approv ed of by St. Charles than any other was that of "St. John the Beheaded," which had for its object the charge of criminals condemned to death, and in which he enrolled many laymen of high position. He made a point of visiting formally SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 599 the whole city and diocese twice every year, and would often go the round of all the churches of the city in a day, that one might not warn another of his approach. St. Charles regarded these pastoral visits as of the greatest importance for the welfare of his diocese, but they of ten entailed great hardship and even ex treme peril upon him. When we reflect on the difficulties of travel and the scanty means of communication in those days, as well as on the nature and ex tent of the country to be traversed, we are filled with astonishment at the won ders he accomplished in this way. Visits to the Diocese. He journeyed over high mountain passes possible only on foot, or even occasionally on hands and feet, through wild and desolate districts, in winter snow and summer heat, sleeping on the bare ground at night and on the morrow again toiling onwards to reach a small hamlet where lay some scattered sheep. Once, when traveling among the Swiss mountains where his road lay along a narrow path running by a deep ravine, the mule on which he was riding slip ped, and fell on him, and it was only by a miracle that both were saved from falling over the abyss. He made a point of lodging in the priest's house, though it was often poor and bare. He would lie on a board to let one of his company take his bed, or satisfy his hunger with a few chestnuts and milk that others might have suffi cient food. Yet even in the most re mote districts, the outward ceremonial of all he had to do was minutely observ ed. His chief joy in these visitations was to give Holy Communion, and he sometimes spent long hours in this holy occupation without signs of fatigue. Switzerland Receives Attention. His words of love cheered the fallen, enkindled fresh ardour in the lukewarm, and led to greater perfection those whose lives were already dedicated to God. He never left a district until he had swept away all the abuses he notic ed in it, taken full account of its wants, and giving instructions for the improve ment and beautifying of the church. The number of new churches he consecrated was enormous, and he preceded each consecration by a rigid fast and a night spent in prayer before the relics. Switzerland, of which the Cardinal was apostolic Visitor, claimed a large share of his attention. Situated on the borders of Germany, it was a prey to heretics, who lost no opportunity of snatching the Faith from the simple souls, that had not the learning to with stand them. Lamentable indeed was the general disorder and state of indif ference. From the ignorant priests the churches received little or no attention ; the Sacraments were utterly neglected, and the Blessed Eucharist treated with scant reverence. Several of the Swiss valleys were un der the jurisdiction of the See of Milan, but any authority over them had long ceased to be exercised by the archbish ops. St. Charles, with the deference he always showed towards temporal power, invited the cantons to promote his work of reform by joining him in enforcing discipline, and, in spite of the bigotry previously shown towards Catholics, the civil authorities were unanimous in treating him and his proposals with re spect. 600 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. He impressed upon the clergy the necessity of walking worthy of their vocation, and laid down strict rules against children going to heretical schools and against the admission of heretics into the Catholic cantons under any pretext whatever. He sent well-in structed priests from Milan, who by the holiness of their lives would edify the people, and raise them from the condi tion into which they had sunk by con tact with unbelievers. Great Work Among the Swiss. But perhaps the greatest work of St. Charles on behalf of Switzerland was the establishment of the Swiss College at Milan. The entrance of any but Swiss ecclesiastics into the country was for bidden, so that it was essential for the natives to be efficiently trained, if they were to maintain the people faithful in their allegiance to the Sovereign Pon tiff. It must not, however, be imagined that St. Charles's work of reform never met with any check or opposition. This was far from being the case, nor would it be the work of God unless it bore the mark of the Cross. The storm of perse cution raised against him emanated chiefly from the Senate of Milan. The city at this period was under the domin ion of Spain, with a resident Governor appointed by the King. When St. Charles was appointed Archbishop, the Governor was one of whom the Saint spoke in terms of high est praise, "so good, so religious, so devoted to our Lord as I should never have imagined him to be," ever ready to assist the Archbishop in his projects, but the supreme authority did not rest in his hands but in those of the Senate. Now after the first Provincial Council, the members of the Senate, finding that its decrees closely affected their lives and the ruling of their passions, vainly endeavored to interfere with the author ity of the Archbishop, and sought for means to throw off his yoke. Appointed Archbishop. An opportunity for so doing soon presented itself. Some laymen, whose lives were notoriously scandalous, re fused to listen to the repeated admoni tions of St. Charles, and were at length brought before the ecclesiastical tri bunes, then working in full force, and imprisoned. Loud was the outcry of the Senate, who, nevertheless, dared not openly disobey the decrees of St. Charles. Now, in accordance with an ancient right, the Archbishop maintained a se cular body of men with a chief officer of justice at their head, who had the right to carry arms and imprison offenders against religion and morals. The officer and his men were warned by the Sen ate that they were disobeying a law of the Governor, and were threatened with severe punishment, unless they desisted from carrying arms. With much prayer for the guidance of the Holy Spirit, St. Charles sought by every means in his power to conciliate the Senate, while not conceding any of the rights of the Church. Its members, however, proved obdur ate, and he was at length obliged to lay the matter before the Sovereign Pontiff, at the same time giving a true version of it to the King of Spain. The storm grew more and more fierce against the saintly Archbishop, for the evil passions of those who sought to hinder the work SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 601 of God were aroused and not easily laid to rest. The Archbishop's chief officer was seized and cruelly treated, then driven from the city and threaten ed with the gallows should he attempt to return. Tears of Regret. Great was the grief of St. Charles at seeing the authority of the Church thus flagrantly set at nought, and he shed many tears at the wickedness of those who could have assisted him in his work for Christ, yet chose to promote that of the devil. Reports were even spread that his reforms were intended for self- aggrandizement, that his sanctity was but a cloak to ambition, and that he was an intriguer endeavoring to hide his dangerous designs. This loving pastor, whose one thought was God, deeply felt the sting of these unjust accusations, but did not allow them in any way to ruffle his tranquil spirit or cause his confidence in God to falter, though they led astray many fal- terers and chilled the ardor of even his most devoted followers. It was time to take decided measures to defend the rights of Holy Church, and St. Charles excommunicated the chief of police and others in authority who were implicated in the outrage on his officer. The offend ers were summoned to appear at once in Rome, together with the president of the Senate and two senators. During the pause which ensued, fresh methods were found of hindering the work of our Saint. The Governor was persuaded by the enemies of St. Charles that now was a fitting opportunity for a display of loyalty, and publish an edict declaring that severe punishment would be meted out to all who violated in any way the jurisdiction of the King. Such a measure, bearing on the face of it an attack on the Archbishop, could not but cripple his work and embolden men to act against all ecclesiastical jurisdiction and rely on the secular power to support them. This indeed happened at a collegiate church at Mi lan known as "Santa Maria della Seal- la," the Chapter of which was under the patronage of the King of Spain. The canons had applied to Pope Clement VII (1530) for exemption from the jurisdiction of the See of Milan, and their petition had been granted, provid ed the consent of the Archbishop was obtained; but as it never had been ob tained, the privilege remained invalid. • Hindrances to His Work. St. Charles, knowing this house to be no exception to the other religious houses of the city in its need of reform, proposed to visit it, but was at once met with opposition from the Chapter, who pleaded exemption from his visit on the ground of the forenamed privilege, and declared their intention of not receiving him. The Archbishop, nothing daunt ed, sent a deputy to them to announce his visitation to be made in conformity with the wishes of the Pope, and arriv ed at the cloister, clothed in his episco pal vestments, seated on a mule, with the crucifix carried in front of him. Armed men, who had been engaged by the canons, at once rushed upon him, and a scene scandalous beyond all de scription ensued. Amid the clanging of bells, the clashing of arms, and the vio lent jostling of an infuriated mob, the Vicar-General affixed to the door the censure the canons were about to incur, only to see it snatched down and torn in pieces. Dignified and calm as ever, the 602 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. Archbishop stood in the midst of the scene, regardless of danger, his eyes fixed on the crucifix, with no word of re monstrance escaping from his lips, and only when he found the door barred in his face did he pronounce the words of excommunication and retire. A Just Retribution. Pius V. was grieved at the affair, and sent a letter of consolation to the Cardi nal, at the same time summoning the two ringleaders to Rome, who, however, met with sudden end before they reach ed Rome, while another of the band, who had fired on the cross, met with a violent death. These events filled the rest of the Chapter with terror that a like doom might await them unless they speedily repented. The Provost was the first to come to St. Charles and humbly beg for forgiveness. The others follow ed more slowly, but were received with great charity by the Archbishop. It was with difficulty that he obtain ed leave from the Pope to deal with them himself, for his Holiness deeply felt the injury done to the rights of the Church and to the Cardinal whom he esteemed so much. After a public con fession of their faults, they received ab solution and went in procession to their cloister, St. Charles accompanying them and offering prayers before he reinstat ed them. It is not improbable that the canons were moved to contrition by a miracle wrought by God to preserve His chosen servant. Mention has already been made of the Order of "Frati Umiliati," and of the contest between them and the Archbishop. Though now outward ly passive, evil intentions still lurked in their hearts, and, encouraged by the re volt of the canons della Scala, they plot ted to take the life of the Cardinal, and a Judas was not hard to find, who, for the sake of gold, was willing to do the deed. It was customary in the household of St. Charles to meet for prayer every evening after the Angelus. These ser vices were open to the public, and were attended by large numbers. Among the crowd there came one evening a mem ber of the Frati dressed as a layman, who took up his position within five yards of the Archbishop. Raising a weapon loaded with a ball and pieces of lead, he fired and struck his victim. Attempted Assassination. A panic ensued, during which it was easy for the perpetrator of the crime to escape unobserved. The saintly Cardi nal, thinking he had been mortally wounded, instantly forgave his murder er and rejoiced that God had allowed him to give his life in His service. Such was not the case, however, for the ball had not even pierced his clothes, but only marked his vestment and fallen to the ground, though one of the pieces of lead gave him a bruise, the mark of which never left him to his death. The whole city hurried to the palace to express their joy at the miraculous escape of their beloved Archbishop, who convoked the clergy, and having gone with them in procession to the cathedral to return thanks to God, withdrew from the joyous citizens to a convent, there to refresh his soul by prayer. To battle against ill-health, caused by overwork and austerity of life, to com bat difficulties which seemed daily to increase, to support and console his peo ple in the hardships they were about to SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 603 endure, St. Charles needed that strength which can only come direct from God. A terrible famine had reduced Milan to the direst wants, and the Saint exerted himself to the utmost to keep his poor from starvation. A Battle with Illness. For three months he fed over three thousand people at his own expense, and, having rendered himself penniless, collected alms from every quarter. "Charity," he was wont to say, "should know no bounds, neither therefore must almsgiving." To make matters worse, a fall of snow, unprecedented in heavi ness, filled the minds of all with fear, lest when it melted the flood should carry away whole villages, and destroy the grain that had been sown. St. Charles called upon his flock to unite with him in prayer and fasting, and the disaster was averted. At the same time a calamity was threatening the Church at large, and causing the aged Pontiff, Pius V., grave anxiety. The Turks had prepared an at tack against Christianity which could only be met by the united resistance of European Powers. St. Charles ordered public prayers and solemn processions to implore the mercy of God, and the ardent prayers of the people of Milan united with the pleading in every coun try, gained for the Church the signal victory at the battle of Lepanto (Oc tober, i 571). It was with difficulty that St. Charles now continued his pastoral labors, for his health was seriously injured by an xieties and austerities. His food for the most part was bread and water, his nights were chiefly spent in prayer, while his days were full of unceasing toil. It was in this state of weakness that he learnt the death of the Pope — news which deeply troubled him. In spite of the remonstrances of his physicians, he journeyed to Rome to take part in the election of the new Pontiff, Gregory XIII. During the six months that he remained in Rome his sanctity was an edification to all, but his ill-health caus ed much anxiety. Physicians Disagree. He was persuaded to consult physic ians, who however did not agree as to the best remedy for him, and the Saint decided to abandon them entirely and to renew his fasts and disciplines with fresh vigor. Hence abstinence came to be called "the remedy of St. Charles." From the new Pope he asked permis sion to resign many of the offices he still held in Rome, that he might be the more free to devote himself to his own diocese. His return to Milan was the occasion for a fresh storm of persecution break ing out against him, directed as before by the governing body of the city. It was now under a new Governor, who from the first acted in open defiance of the Cardinal. To celebrate his appoint ment, he organized a fight of wild beasts to be held during the carnival in the space outside the cathedral. St. Charles forbade such a show undei pain of excommunication, and the Gov ernor retaliated by holding public games on days set apart for devotion at the very hour of divine service. But his efforts to prevent the people from attending the churches were vain, for the influence of the Archbishop was too 604 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. powerfully felt by them, and before the Governor could devise fresh methods for alluring them, he was overtaken by death. His successor was a personal friend of St. Charles, and it was hoped that a time of peace and prosperity was in store for Milan. But the Cardinal's hopes were destined to be disappointed. In the pre vious contest concerning ecclesiastical and secular jurisdiction, some letters falsely incriminating St. Charles had been obtained by the senators from Spain, the publication of which would naturally prove detrimental to the au thority of the Church. The Governor Issues a Libel. The former Governor, knowing them to be libellous, had refrained from mak ing any use of them, but the existing ruler, though threatened by St. Charles with excommunication, published them by sending them, in the absence of the Archbishop, to his Vicar-General. St. Charles, by every device that charity could suggest, endeavored to check the evil at the outset, but the Governor re mained obdurate, and the Cardinal pub lished the order of excommunication, thus again exposing his life in defence of the rights of the Church. The Governor, more than ever enrag ed, retaliated by forbidding all meetings of societies and confraternities unless a magistrate was present, and confis cated the castle of Arona, on the borders of Switzerland, which belonged to St. Charles; moreover, to give color to his assertion that the Cardinal was wanting in loyalty to the King, he placed a guard around his palace. Though he succeeded in filling the in mates of the house with alarm, he could never shake St. Charles's trust in Gbd or ruffle his exterior calm and patience. His life continued its even tenor, and longer hours were given to prayer. The affair was at length brought to a termi nation by the King, who transferred the Governor to Flanders. Inmates Filled with Alarm. This work of defending the rights of the Church did not interrupt the pro gress of the wonderful organization, carried on by the Archbishop for the spiritual profit of the diocese. The sy nods, at which sometimes as many as 1,500 priests attended, continued to as semble every year, and it is difficult to form an idea of the scope of the regula tions made by St. Charles to meet not only every contingency in the spiritual life, but also the exterior deportment of both clergy and people. The Provincial Councils also were held every three years, and it was the custom of St. Charles to send their de crees to bishops in every country as models for reform. But it was specially to the power of prayer that the Saint looked for success in his undertaking. Ardently did he entreat the people to beg of God to bless these assemblies and to offer their good works for that inten tion. Exposition of the Blessed Sacra ment was held on the previous Sunday, and processions wended their way to the cathedral to implore the Divine mercy. Great was his influence with his suf fragans, and happy his dealings with the religious Orders. Mention has al ready been made of the Society of Jesus, which he held in high esteem alike for the integrity as for the profound learn ing of its priests. He often defended them when perse- SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 605 cuted, and the last letter of his life bears testimony of his regard for the Com pany "so meritorious and so useful." A confraternity known as that of "Chris tian Doctrine" had been erected shortly before St. Charles arrived in Milan, having for its object the teaching of the truths of religion and the instruc tion of the young. It was reorganized by the Archbishop and became a means of help in teaching, and later in almost every branch of charity. Society of " Christian Doctrine." As it was found as difficult in those days as in these to persuade children to attend school regularly, he instituted a band of men known as "Fishers," and gave them authority to collect children from every street and conduct them to school. The office was much sought after, even the nobility considering it an honor to wear the badge of a "fisher man." But of all the Orders employed by St. Charles the Congregation of the "Regu lar Clerks of St. Paul," commonly call ed "Barnabites," after the title of their church, deserves special attention. Ow ing to the large increase in its numbers, its constitutions needed revision, and it was to St. Charles that they applied for aid and ever regarded him in conse quence as their second founder. The General of the Order, Dominic Sauli, a man of considerable reputation in the Church, had been a fellow-stu dent of St. Charles at the University of Pavia, and during his first years in Milan the Cardinal had greatly relied on his advice. The Franciscans and Carmelites, the Jesuits and Capuchins were also largely employed by him. Yet the ever-increasing needs of his vast diocese, the difficulty of ruling so many colleges, seminaries, and chari table institutions, his countless projects and schemes still in their infancy, had brought home to him the necessity of founding a body of men who would act now as his auxiliaries, and after his death carry on the work of reform. He therefore resolved to found a Con gregation of secular priests, who- should unite with a diocesan life the spirit of a religious community under the sole au thority of the Bishop, to whom he gave the name of "Oblates of St. Ambrose." Our Blessed Lady and St. Ambrose were chosen as the patrons of the new religious, and the Congregation was e/i- riched with privileges and indulgences by Pope Gregory XIII. It was not for three years that any definite rule was given to them, and then only after their founder had submitted it to the judg ment of St. Philip Neri. A New Order Founded. The devotions started by St. Philip in the Oratory at Rome, consisting of preaching and prayer, interspersed with music, had proved so successful in winn ing souls to God that they were used as a model by St. Charles for the reunions held by his Oblates. The name "Ob late" is an index to the spirit of the foundation; theirs was a life of willing oblation, their only vow being one of obedience to the Archbishop. They were to live together in the spirit of the early Christian, zealous only for the glory of God and the salva tion of souls. Though their special ob ject was to aid the Archbishop in the government of his diocese, yet they were to strive after that religious per fection only to be attained by a life free 606 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. from contact with the world. To preach, to take temporary care of par ishes, to go, like Apostles, into the re mote corners of the diocese; to teach colleges, seminaries, and poor schools; in short, to supply the spiritual necessi ties of men wherever they might be wanting — such was to be their aim and work. St. Charles was the guiding spirit of the Order, which in his eyes was the choicest fruit of his labors. He loved the religious as his own sons: his de light was to withdraw himself from the cares of his daily life to find solace and spiritual refreshment in the humbler life of those amongst whom he was the most humble. In their company he would sometimes remain for weeks, ob serving the rule in its minutest detail. If any were ill, he would nurse them with tender devotion by day and by night. Zealous for God's Glory. Once when one of them, renowned for virtue and learning, was at the point of death, St. Charles implored God so fer vently to spare him, that he miraculous ly recovered. Wonder was expressed at the extreme anxiety shown by him for his soul. "You know not," he re plied, "of what value is the life of a good priest." The Order grew apace, and to it were affiliated many of the laity, with rules applicable to their station in life. Many, too, were the hospitals, houses of mercy, homes of refuge, and such like institutions, established by the Car dinal and maintained in many cases at his own expense. Where the fallen needed raising, he was their support; where the sick were uncared for, he was their consolation ; where children were ignorant, he taught them; where God was unknown, he preached and renewed the faith. The year 1575 was sanctified by Pope Gregory XIII. as a Holy year of Jubi lee, and, that it should be opened with great pomp and ceremony, he convoked all the Cardinals to assist at the func tion. It had been the intention of St. Charles to satisfy his devotion by a pilgrimage to Rome at a later period in the year, but the slightest wish of the Holy Father was a law to him, and he set out at once. Description of a Journey. One of his companions has described the journey in a letter: "Throughout the whole route the Cardinal ate noth ing but bread, nuts, and some dried rais ins. We arrived, always late at night, at some inn where we were not expect ed. Scarcely had we descended from our horses, covered with mud, frozen with cold, often wet through, always very tired, than we went at once to the Archbishop's room, where on our knees we finished the Office, to which he add ed litanies, devoting some time to silent prayer, concluding with an address. These exercises lasted for two hours, when we thought of the needs of the body and went to bed. About two or three o'clock the following morning we recited the first part of the Office and prepared ourselves for the Divine Mys teries, which were celebrated by every one. All was not finished before five o'clock, the hour fixed for remounting." St. Charles remained about six weeks in Rome, and, apart from the time spent with the Holy Father, devoted himself to visiting the churches, which he often did barefooted. The following year the Jubilee was published in Milan, and St. Charles used SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 607 every means to persuade the people to profit by the privilege he had obtained for them, and published a book oi pray ers, with an account of the relics expos ed in the different churches to be visit ed. The pilgrims coming from afar were guided on their way by large crosses erected on the roads, recalling to mind the Passion of our Lord, and the object of their visit, and on arrival were ac commodated in houses specially set apart for them. Never had the city wit nessed such scenes of penance and signs of fervor. Jubilee Year in Milan. Processions of men and women, cloth ed in sackcloth, carrying crucifixes in their hands, recited litanies from church to church, while the Cardinal, ever the first to give his flock an example, went barefooted through the streets, and wait ed on the pilgrims, washing their feet in humble imitation of the divine charity of Christ. Had the necessity of penance been more taken to heart during this season of religious enthusiasm, the people of Milan might have averted the terrible scourge with which God thought fit to visit them, and which shows our Saint in a new light, no longer merely as an ecclesiastical reformer, but as an apos tle of charity. To his children in distress he is a tender father, to the dying a sweet con soler, to the sick a loving nurse healing with gentle touch, to all an angel from heaven breathing life and hope where death and despair had begun to reign. — Returning from the funeral of one of his bishops, he was met by a courier who hastened to meet him with the news that the plague had broken out in the city. The Governor and most of the nobil ity had fled to the country, leaving the people in a state of panic and disorder, for the very name of plague was suffi cient to inspire all with terror, seeing that twice before the city has been de vastated by it. Surrounded by crowds of fear-stricken people, the Archbishop received at his palace the magistrates who had come to beg his advice in deal ing with the afflicted, and in adopting measures to prevent contagion. The Saint promised to do all in his power for them, to give up his life, if need be, for his people in such distress, and reminded his clergy that they, too, were in duty bound to expose their lives to danger in giving the plague-stricken every attention. Should any fall sick in so doing, he promised to give them the Sacraments with his own hands. Care for the Plague-stricken. Regarding himself as laden with the sins of his flock, he strove to appease the anger of God by severe penances. Whenever he appeared in the streets the poor threw themselves at his feet, kiss ing his garments and imploring help from him to whom alone they could turn. To the miseries of plague those of famine were soon added. Shut off from all intercourse with the outside world, commerce had ceased, and hundreds of unemployed were wan dering about in want of bread. The au thorities had neglected to provide in any way for the sick, and the large hospital at San Gregorio was a disgrace. Here, as soon as they were attacked, whole families were enclosed in a veritable prison, without means of subsistence or 608 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. any one to care for them when alive, or to bury them when dead. St. Charles visited this house, and was filled with sorrow at the suffering he witnessed. Tears and groans of despair, mingled with the shrieks of the dying, drew com passionate tears from his eyes. He gave them his blessing before leaving, and sent them food and clothing. Saint's Blessing Effective. It is said that the blessing of the Saint worked many cures during the plague, and that the members of his household lost their dread of it in his presence, while of the eight who always accom panied him in the street, none ever fell a victim to it. S. Gregorio was full, and hundreds were still left destitute ; so St. Charles built some isolated houses with out the city, and put them in charge of religious. But the number to be provided for daily increased, and a stream of starving men and women flowed unceasingly to the Archbishop's palace, and there threw themselves on his mercy, though he was now nearly as destitute as they were. To feed daily between sixty and seventy thousand people, he had strip ped himself and his house of everything of value, and borrowed sums of money which took him years to repay. Often he returned tired and hungry from a long day spent in administering the Sacraments to the dying, to find his House empty of all provisions, so that his steward was obliged to beg some bread for him. Of his unbounded char ity to sufferers who lay by the wayside, there are countless examples; passing by a Capuchin lying on a straw bed at the point of death, he wrapped his own cloak round his frozen body and remain ed with him until his soul had passed away. Like a tender father, he carried in his arms many infants whom he found ex posed in the streets at night, or lying by the bodies of their dead parents. But while St. Charles was endeavor ing by every precaution to hinder the progress of the plague, he bore in mind that it was a visitation of the wrath of God, and that coming from Him, could only be stayed by Him. Seven times a day public prayers were said in the streets and processions were frequently made, in one of which the relics of the various churches were carried to aid the devotion of the people, St. Charles him self bearing the relic of the Holy Nail, by the sight of which he hoped to move the people to greater devotion to the Passion of our Saviour. It was a won derful spectacle, and not a single person contracted the plague during the course of its progress. Sympathy for the Suffering. With the beginning of the new year (I577) the plague began to abate, and St. Charles published the Jubilee in the towns of Italy that had been ravaged by it, and Milan began once more to as sume its old aspect. The law of quaran tine was withdrawn, but too soon, as the event showed, for the plague had by no means ceased its ravages, and to avoid so terrible a calamity as its return, the Archbishop urged the people to make a vow to St. Sebastian, the martyr, whose mother was a Milanese, promising to re build the church dedicated to him, if he would deliver them. This promise was faithfully fulfilled, and from that moment every trace of the plague vanished. In a touching ap- SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 609 peal, the Saint entreated his flock to profit by the recent punishment of God to lead a more Christian life, and drew up books of devotion adapted to every station in life. His Memoriale, a small work of great importance, containing an account of the evils with which he had to contend in his diocese, was espec ially addressed to his suffragans. A Promise Redeemed. To compile these books the Saint de prived himself of his already small amount of sleep, and owing to the long strain of the plague-time, he was often now in a state of great exhaustion. Sometimes he would fall asleep while dictating to his secretary, but on awakening would continue exactly where he had left off, so that it was diffi cult to know if he were only apparent ly drowsy or in reality intensely recol lected. St. Charles, having revisited the Swiss Cantons and the rest of his diocese, was able to satisfy a long-cherished desire of making a pilgrimage to the Holy Winding-Sheet at Turin. The journey of ninety miles, to be made on foot, was divided into four days, throughout which the Saint and his company were occupied in spiritual exercises, only in terrupted by the crowds who came from every village to implore his blessing. The Duke of Savoy, in whose keeping this most sacred relic was, entertained St. Charles with the dignity that befit ted so revered a Cardinal and so holy a man; but no honor could in any way detach the thoughts of the Saint from the object of his visit. Words fail in describing his devotion, when, for long hours in front of that memorial of the Sufferings of our Redeemer, absorbed in 39-C F Vol. 2 contemplation, it seemed as though his soul had left this earth and winged its flight to unite with the purer adora tion of heaven. The mysteries of the Passion were throughout his life the special object of his devotion, and an opportunity of satisfying it was given him at Monte Alverno, where St. Francis received the Stigmata, which he visited on his way to Rome, whither he was forced to proceed, owing to the renewed and vici ous attacks of the Governor of Milan. It is hard to believe that after his heroic devotion at the time of the plague, fresh opposition could be shown him ; but this base ingratitude was the Governor's re venge for the rebuke given him by the Archbishop for deserting the people in their hour of need. Triumphant Return from Rome. Returning triumphant from Rome, he visited the diocese of Brescia, where he reconciled many heretics to the Church, and met the youthful son of the Mar- chese di Gonzaga, afterwards known as St. Aloysius. The year 1584, the last of the Saint's life, was opened by an assembly of the rural deans and visitors of his diocese, which lasted three weeks, to report on the enforcement of the synodal decrees. The diocese of Milan might now indeed be regarded as reformed; much had been changed, but still more had been built up; great opposition had been shown, but much generous support re ceived. The love of the people for their Arch bishop was very real, and their grief at an unfounded report of his death was loud and bitter. St. Charles, knowing he was soon to leave his flock, concen- 610 SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. trated his failing energies on the com pletion of the reform in which his life had been spent. He was suffering from erysipelas in the leg, and though oblig ed to remain in bed, had himself placed where he could receive his clergy and transact all affairs as usual. Through out the Lent of this year he fasted strictly, his sole food being dried figs. In April he held his last Synod, preaching four sermons to his clergy, which his biographer pronounces the most powerful and fervent he ever de livered. He hinted it was the last oc casion on which he would address them, and they listened with mingled feelings of joy at the sweetness of his words and of sorrow that they were soon to lose so loving a father and so powerful a guide. In spite of constant suffering, he made his pastoral visits as usual in the heat of the summer, and as he approach ed his end, his charity shone forth with redoubled splendor. Ceaseless Longing for Death. He longed for death, always speaking of it with pleasure, and made his annual retreat in the secluded chapels of Monte Varallo, whither he had often gone in pilgrimage, and there contracted the fever which was the cause of his death. His feeble condition made him leave Milan, that he might die in his own city ; with extreme difficulty he visited the College of Ascona on the way home, where he arrived on All Souls' Day. On the morrow he sent for his chap lains, desiring to say Office with them, but so infirm was he, that he could only unite with them mentally, and when they had finished, he bade them recite the Office of the Dead. Around his bed he ordered to be hung pictures repre senting the sufferings of Christ, from which he scarcely moved his eyes. His perfect serenity never left him, though all around were shedding tears in the depth of their grief. He received Holy Viaticum from the hands of the Arch- priest of the cathedral in the presence of all his canons. Austerity even in Death. His servants, remembering his wish to die in sackcloth and ashes, clothed him in a hair shirt, sprinkling blest ashes on him, while Fr. Adorno, his con fessor, stood at the head of the bed holding the crucifix. The room was fill ed with priests, whose sobs choked the pious utterances they endeavored to suggest to the Saint. He gave them all his blessing, and then fell back and peacefully passed away. The same night St. Charles appeared to Fr. Adorno in vision, clad in his pontifical vestments and surrounded with the glory of Heaven, and spoke words of comfort and consolation to him. Vast crowds of people flocked to venerate the body of their beloved Arch bishop, and to touch it with their rosar ies. The tears of those who had never be fore been known to shed them, mingled with those of the widow, the orphan, and the poor, who mourned their loss with the abandonment of profound sorrow. His funeral was celebrated by the Bishop of Cremona, afterwards Pope Gregory XIV., and the body was laid to rest in his cathedral at the foot of the choir, a spot chosen by the Saint in life, and where many miracles were wrought after his death. His canonization was begun by Pope Clement VIII. in 1604, and completed under Pope Pius V. in 1 610, twenty-six years after his death. SAINT CHARLES BORROMEO. 611 St. Charles Borromeo lived but a few years, yet "being made perfect in a short space, he fulfilled a long time." In appearance he was tall, though much bent towards the end of his life by study and austerity. His face was long, his hair almost black and his eyes blue. His manner, always serious and recollected, was withal courteous and obliging, and he had a smile of great sweetness. It is said he never spoke a useless word, or indulged in any levity of man ner; yet his countenance was always cheerful, and he received with a natural kindliness all who came to him. His bearing was calm and simple, combined with much dignity, so that no one could help feeling esteem and respect for him, and it was impossible to speak of any thing trivial in his presence. Equable Temperament. Nothing made him betray the least emotion, while sadness, excitement, or impatience found no place in him, even in the most trying circumstances. In so great a Saint it is difficult to speak of any special virtues, for indeed he ex celled in all. But perhaps with St. Charles the virtue of religion held pre eminence, a deep spirit of reverence being stamped on all he said and did. He never heard the name of God with out uncovering his head. The Word of God was his constant study, and he always read it kneeling and with head uncovered. He daily re cited the Divine Office with great devo tion, and showed the most minute care and diligence in the observance of all ceremonies connected with the worship of God. This feeling of reverence fos tered his respect for the person of the Sovereign Pontiff and for the authority and rights of the Church, and any refus al of allegiance to the Holy See was re garded by him as the greatest of faults. The most striking outward feature in St. Charles was his spirit of penance. It was, indeed, matter for wonder to all around him how, in the midst of the business and anxieties of his diocese, he could practice mortification. Always Just and Upright. A holy fear of God, combined with an ardent hatred of sin, made him just, # upright, and sincere with all men, fear less of the power of princes or of the threats of enemies, regardless of the favor of friends, while a warm love for God and a tender compassion for those who suffer made him humble and chari table, despising the things of earth and full of love for poverty and detachment. His unswerving hope and confidence in God gave him that peace of mind which found vent in constant prayer and con- templation. Beloved of God and men, his memory is held in benediction, his work endures to this day. There was none found like unto him in keeping the law of the Most High, and now he is numbered among the men rich in virtue, studying beauti- fulness, living at peace in their houses ; men of mercy, whose goodly deeds have not failed, whose bodies are buried in peace, and whose name liveth from generation unto generation. Saint Stanislaus Kostka. BY THE REV. HERE is in Rome a small and graceful church right opposite to the old Palace of the Popes upon the Quirinal Hill. The Pal ace is the Pope's no more; and soldiers and courtiers, not of the Pope, throng the narrow street that runs before it. Let us seek refuge from their uncongenial company in this modest sanctuary. On entering we are taken by surprise at its beauty. Circular in form, crowned by a dome, it has deeply recessed chapels, one which attracts by the richness of its materials. We read on an inscription that under neath the altar repose the remains of St. Stanislaus Kostka. And if we pass on into a room hard by we see his effigy in breathing marble. He is as at the mo ment of his death, holding a picture oi our Lady in one hand and a crucifix in the other. Young he is to die, but there is no shade of sorrow upon that sweet face. Who is this youth, what the story of his short life? When the fierce flood of revolt against God's Church and God's truth was threatening the whole of Central Eu rope, Poland faithful and heroic was in grave peril of being drowned in the ris ing waters. But Masovia, one of her provinces, stood above them, like a rock unsullied, untouched by the deluge. And there, in 1550, when Edward VI. was King of England, dark days for our 612 K. OOLDIE, S.J. dear land, Stanislaus was born. John Kostka, his father, was Senator of that most democratic, yet aristocratic king dom, and Castellan or Governor of one of its towns. Where every freeman was a noble, nobility was no special privilege. But John was of one of the leading families, and several of his rela tives and of the relatives of his wife held high places in the State. As with so many of God's saints, mar vels foretold the greatness of this child before his birth. Stanislaus, the second son — he had a brother Paul older by thirteen months — was born on the 28th of October. After the solemn baptism in the parish church, the child's god father laid the baby on the ground be fore the altar of the Blessed Sacrament. It was a fitting consecration for one who was to be so highly favored by this sublime Mystery and so great a lover of his Lord in the Holy Eucharist. Under a strict home training, Stanis laus grew up a sweet and winning child. The first act he could recall in after years was the dedication of himself en tirely and for ever to God. To this he was so faithful that no wonder his par ents used to say, "He is an angel now, he will be a saint hereafter." The Cas tellan kept open house, but if any one at his table dared to say a coarse word when Stanislaus was present, the boy would raise his eyes to heaven and then fall off into a swoon. And his father had to keep strict watch that the con- SAINT STANISLAUS-KOSTKA. SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 613 versation should never turn on forbid den topics. As the brothers grew up, John Kostka looked around for some school where the faith of his sons would be secure, a privilege not easy to find in those evil days. The Society of Jesus, then but lately founded, had been invited by the Emperor Ferdinand I. to open a college in Vienna, his capital. He had lent to them a house belonging to the Crown to serve as a boarding-house for the young men of good family who flocked from all parts of Austria, Germany, and the neighboring countries to profit by the celebrated teaching and sure ortho doxy of the Jesuit masters. Even Pro testants sent their sons thither. A Visit to Vienna. Paul and Stanislaus arrived in Vienna in the July of 1564, accompanied, as fit ted their rank, by a tutor, John Bilinski, by a Bavarian valet, Pacifici, and two servants. It was a great delight to Stanislaus to live in such a Catholic at mosphere. The boys shared the refec tory with the Fathers, and took part in the services in the church on Sundays and holydays. These were celebrated with all possible splendor as a repara tion for the Protestant wrecking of sanctuary and of ritual. The altar was our young Saint's place of preference. He loved to hear three Masses every day, and to visit the church at his moments of leisure; and when there in public, he attracted all eyes by his deep though unconscious reverence, as he knelt in the choir stalls saying his beads or Our Lady Office, often raised up from the ground in ecstacy. But he strove when it was pos sible to conceal his fervor from his com panions by hiding himself behind the benches. Scarce eight months had passed be fore the free-thinking Emperor Max, who had succeeded to the throne, re claimed the boarding-house, at the pray er of his protestantizing nobles, from the Jesuits : and though he did not break up the College, the two young brothers had to seek a lodging in the city. An Assistant Chosen. Paul chose one in the house of a Lu theran gentleman, who lived in what was then the fashionable quarter, in the midst of all the gaiety and pleasure so attractive to a young nobleman of six teen. A party of fellow students, two of their cousins, shared the house with them, and they seemed to join as much amusement as possible with the pursuit of their studies. Nor was the tutor much different from them in his tastes. But the heart of Stanislaus was al ready set on leaving the world, and he divided all his time, as before between study and prayer. He did not at first show any special talents in class, but by dogged and continuous work he got to the head of the sixth form, or as it is called in Jesuit terminology, the school of Rhetoric. Besides his ordinary tasks, he learned to speak German. Many of his well-filled note books were preserv ed as relics in Poland, till the great Re volution. He never wore the brilliant national dress of his countrymen, and one of his great trials was being obliged to learn to dance. Whilst his brothers were playing cards after dinner, he slipped away to visit the Blessed Sacrament in the Jesuit Church. He never would go out with them of an evening to theatres 614 SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. or amusements, but when they had re turned and were asleep he rose at mid night to pray for a long time, and then finished with a severe discipline, the ef fects of which he found it difficult to conceal. Yet there was nothing stiff or morose about him, but, as is ever the case when self-control is all round and complete, Stanislaus was unchangingly bright and merry. His chubby and rosy face won the hearts of those whom he met. Beaten and Reviled. But a life so different from that of his brother and of his brother's boon com panions made him, as is often the case, "grievous" unto them "to behold," and Paul would vent his anger by words and even by blows. He beat Stanislaus with a stick, he kicked him, and he re proached him with living the life of a country clown instead of that of a gentleman. He constantly insisted that his father had sent him to Vienna on purpose to go into good society, and to mix with his equals. His companions in their old age owned that they too had joined in this ill treatment, and often jumped upon this holy boy and trampled him under ifoot, as though they had stum bled over him by accident, when in the dark he was lying prostrate on the floor of his room rapt in prayer. One night his companions complain ed that he was keeping them awake by sitting up late to read a spiritual book. Stanislaus, without a word, went to bed, but kept his candle lit at his side to finish his reading. Just as happened to St. Aloysius, he fell asleep; the can dle burnt to the socket and set fire to the curtains. The flames and smoke aroused the others. Everything was in a blaze around his head, and they shout ed to him to get up. He awoke, leapt out of bed, but not even a hair of his head was touched. While unwilling to follow his brother to the parties and balls of the city, there was nothing he would not do for Paul, for he was exceedingly fond of him. He would even tidy his room and clean his boots, and render any service to him however menial. But nothing that he did softened the harshness of his bro ther or of his companions. They called him "Jesuit" as a word of scorn, and the tutor, if he interfered when Paul actual ly ill treated his brother, laid all the blame of what our saint suffered on his refusing to live as his station demand ed. The Strain too Severe. The strain became more than Stanis laus could bear. The bad treatment, the perpetual persecution were not perhaps the sole cause. The long night vigils, the self-inflicted penances, the constant application of mind, and perhaps as much as any other thing — the unsatis fied yearning for religious life resulted in a dangerous illness during the De cember of 1566. Was it delirium or a vision of the evil one, when at the outset of his sickness, a great black dog seemed to leap up to his bed to attack him? Three times it came on and three times by the sign of the Cross our Saint drove it back and then it altogether disappeared. Stanis laus grew rapidly worse. He asked for the last Sacraments, but no priest could ever be allowed to pass the threshold of the Protestant landlord. This privation was more bitter to our Saint than death. SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 615 He had a great devotion to St. Bar bara, and he knew that to her was at tributed the special power of obtaining the last Sacraments for the dying. Dur ing seven successive nights, Bilinski had watched by the bedside of his charge. Suddenly one evening, Stanis laus touched the tutor and bade him kneel down; "See!" he exclaimed, "St. Barbara is coming into the room with two angels, who are bringing me Holy Communion." Then the sick boy sprang up in bed and on bended knees repeated three times the Dominie, non sum dignus. He then opened his mouth, as though he were going to receive, and after that stayed for some time in an attitude of deep reverence. The tutor had become so worn out, that he was at length forc ed to leave a servant to watch the pa tient for one night. At daybreak he re turned to the sick room and Stanislaus beckoned him to his side, and assured him that he was quite well. A Statement Confirmed. Naturally Bilinski thought he was wandering, but the doctors when they came confirmed the statement of the holy youth. What Bilinski did not know, but what Stanislaus told to two of his confessors, was that our Lady had appeared to him and laid her Divine Child on the bed, and that He and the sick youth had embraced and carressed each other. Before the vision disappear ed the Blessed Virgin had ordered him enter the Society of Jesus. This was no new idea to him. For sixteen months the conviction of a real vocation had been in his mind. He had even bound himself by vow to enter re ligious life. The certainty that his fa ther would refuse consent, the uncer tainty whether the Society would re ceive him had made him keep his coun sel to himself. God had called him, of that he could have no doubt. He knew that he "must be about his Father's business," and though he were to cause his earthly father and mother "to seek him sorrowing," he knew his Master's words "that he who loves father and mother more than Me is not worthy of Me." Such was his character. Discomfiture of Stanislaus. Longer silence and inaction now be came impossible. Stanislaus went to lay his request before Father Maggio, the Provincial of the Austrian Province of the Society of Jesus. That Father was however just setting out on his visitation of Poland, then a part of his province, and he refused to receive the youth against his father's wish. No other reason was needed than that the risk lest such a step might endanger the very existence of his order in a country already deeply tainted by Protestant ism. In vain our Saint turned to Cardinal Commendone, the Papal Legate at Vien na, who was at once a firm friend of the Society of Jesus and an old acquaint ance of the Kostka family, he had known them when he was Nuncio at Warsaw. Not even the Cardinal was able to shake the determination of the Provincial. Stanislaus then turned with fresh confidence to God. He renewed the vow he had made, and bound him self to journey the whole world over until he could find some Jesuit house, some Provincial who would accept him. The Saint addressed himself in con fession to a Portuguese Jesuit, Father 616 SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. Antonio, a man of high standing, a former Master of novices, and at that time confessor to the Empress Dowager Mary. This Father whose position gave him a certain liberty of action, made no hasty reply. But after commending the decision to God, he advised the Saint to seek admission from Blessed Peter Canisius, so justly named the Apostle of Germany, who was then Provincial of Upper Germany, and was believed to be at Augsburg. If the Provincial re fused, he counselled him to go on as far as Rome and beg the sainted General, St. Francis Borgia himself, to receive him into the Society. Preparation for Flight. Our Saint prepared for flight by ac customing his brother to his prolonged absences from home. He procured a peasant's dress of coarse stuff and a straw hat to match, besides a girdle and a pilgrim's staff. When next his bro ther, with his usual cruelty, attacked him, Stanislaus, instead of bearing it in silence, threatened that if he went on in that way, he would be forced to go away, and that Paul would have to an swer for the consequences. This unus ual conduct sufficed to throw his brother into a fury and he bade Stanislaus leave at once. That night our Saint passed in prayer, and early next morning, Sunday the 17th of August, 1567, he went to hear Mass and to receive Holy Communion in the Jesuit Church. He obtained from Father Antonio the letter of recommen dation which he had promised. As soon as ever he was safely outside the walls of Vienna he renewed his valiant vow. He then changed his clothes, giving those he had taken off, as St. Ignatius had done, to a beggar whom he met. Before leaving he had told the servant that he would not be back for dinner. No one but Father Antonio and a young Hungarian friend, who shared in his aspirations, knew of his decision. Unrewarded Search. When night came on and Stanislaus did not return, Paul, Bilinski, and their landlord, Kimberger, felt sure that he had gone to join the Jesuits. Accord ingly, early next morning, they went to the college, only to find that he had cer tainly not been received into the Aus trian Province, but had probably gone off to Rome. They returned home in a fury, they cross-questioned the valet, Pacifici, and as soon as day dawned hurried after the fugitive. Bilinski and Kimberger drove off in pursuit in one direction in a car riage, while Paul rode away in another. The two former seem to have come in sight of him, but at that moment their horses — they had gone forty-five miles — stopped dead, nor could the driver make them move an inch further. Paul overtook his brother, but did not recog nize him under his disguise although he spoke to him and asked about Stanis laus. The peasant replied that the youth had gone along the road in the early morning. Paul flung some money to the unknown boy, put spurs to his horse and galloped off. He paid the guards of the gates of the various places through which his brother would have to pass, that they should arrest him when he appeared. Stanislaus thanked our Lady for hav ing protected him, and, when all danger seemed over, pushed forward. Fortu- SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 617 nately he met a Jesuit who was on his way to Dillingen, and who, to shelter him, took him past the two next towns in a carriage. But the pilgrim insisted on making the rest of his way on foot. At length he reached Augsburg, ap parently in the early morning. Bless ed Canisius however was not there, but several miles away, at Dillingen. Stanis laus would brook no delay and started off at once in company with another Je suit. Our Saint was still fasting in hopes of receiving Holy Communion and, not many miles further on, he stayed at a wayside church. The hand of the spoil er, alas ! had been before him, the church had been reformed, neither taber nacle nor Blessed Sacrament was there. Stanislaus burst into tears. But sud denly a throng of glorious angels ap peared, lighting up the desecrated sanc tuary. One of them bore the Ciborium, and the rest knelt down around our Saint, while once more he received His Lord and Love from heavenly hands. a Warm Welcome. At Dillingen he found the Blessed Peter Canisius in the large Jesuit Col lege, which had been opened in that town. Stanislaus threw himself at his feet and presented him the letter writ ten by Father Antonio. He met with a warm welcome from the holy Provin cial, and had Canisius seen his way to it he would have gladly accepted the youth as a member of his own Province. For he must have admired his courage, and, during the short interview, the holy and experienced old man must have read the secret virtue of the soul of Stanislaus. As he was despatching two Jesuits to complete their studies at Rome, B. Peter thought it wisest and safest, according to young Kostka's own wish, to send him along with them. This was surely a Divine overruling, that with the other youthful Saints, Aloysius and John Ber- chmans, he might glorify the Holy City in life and in death! Meanwhile to test his constancy, Can isius made the high born Pole act as a servant to the young students in the College. The Saint joyfully embraced the toil and the lowliness of this post. He added to it severe austerities and an almost constant fast. The boys were greatly struck by his gentle humility and readiness to be of service, and his example was to many a call to follow * him along the narrow way. Journey to the Eternal City. We know but little of the long autum nal journey over Alps and Apennines to the Eternal City. The central house of the Society in Rome — for there were several — was then next to what is now the splendid church of the Gesu, where in the body of St. Ignatius de Loyola is enshrined. The General of the So ciety of Jesus at that time was the aged St. Francis Borgia, who had left his ducal coronet to wear a heavier crown, to rule over an order which was even then spread throughout the world. He received the travelers on October 25th, 1567, in the little room where his founder had written the Constitutions of the Jesuits. We may be sure he wel comed Stanislaus with special affection, for B. Peter Canisius, in the letter of introduction he had sent, said of him, "I expect great things from him." One of the great works of St. Fran cis Borgia during his Generalate was 618 SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. the organizing separate houses of pro bation for the novices. It would seem as if the model novice was to inaugurate the first of them, the new house of St. Andrea on the Quirinal, just founded by a lady of royal Spanish blood, Jane de Aragon, the mother of Mark Antony Colonna, the hero of Lepanto. It had been opened only a year before Stanis laus came to Rome. Restricted Quarters. At first however this house was not large enough to receive all the Jesuit novices at the same time who were then within the Holy City, so that some stay ed on at the central house, while others remained at the Roman College, such as it then existed; or rather the novices were changed about, making part of their two years of trial in each of these different religious houses. Thus all three were hallowed by the presence of our Saint. The life of the Jesuit novice is truly a hidden life, and few, if any, incidents broke the calm of the short ten months which Stanislaus spent in Rome. Among those of various lands who were his com panions there were many who had play ed no unimportant part on the world's stage, and many were in after years to win still purer fame in God's service. But one and all recognized in the gen- tl Polish youth their master and leader in the path of virtue. The future General of the Society, perhaps the best known, after St. Igna tius, Claud Acquaviva, who had been a prelate in the Vatican, was told off to give the spiritual exercises to the Saint on his arrival, but he owned that his pupil had an abler teacher, for he was taught by the Holy Ghost. A list of the novices who were con temporaries of our Saint is still in exis tence. Of these the first was John, one of the old and noble Scottish house of the Hays of Dalgety. With his uncle, Edmund Hay, he had left Scotland in 1562, to become in succession a student of the Catholic Universities of Louvain and Rome. Later on in life, when a Doctor of Divinity, he defended the Mystery of the Blessed Eucharist, in Poland, before a multitude of Protest ants. None of them dared to reply to his able proofs. And this he did a second time in the University of Strasburg. He was dis guised as a layman, but the learned Chancellor of the time declared that the disputant must be either the devil or a Jesuit. He died Chancellor of the Louvain University at Pont-a-Mousson. In spite of the furious persecution against the faith he succeeded in spend ing several months in his dear native land laboring for the Catholic cause. English Associates. Four Englishmen were in the Roman Novitiate with Stanislaus. Two were sons of Judge Rastall, who, after their birth, sacrificed his high position for his faith and fled from England to Lou vain. His mother was a sister of Bless ed Thomas More, and the boys were worthy of their illustrious and saintly grandfather. John and Edward were born in ancient Gloucester. John was a true Wykehamite, a stu dent at Winchester College and after wards at Our Lady's College, Oxford, so well known as New. There he gain ed a Fellowship. This he gave up for his faith and entered the Society of Jesus. He became famous for his con- SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 619 troversial knowledge. Like his bro ther, who also became a Jesuit, he pass ed his later life in the Jesuit Colleges of Germany, as the order had not then en tered England. While rector of the great house of In- golstadt, his Provincial, a famous Ger man, Paul Hoffaeus, the fellow worker of the Apostle of Germany, B. Peter Canisius, was dangerously ill. John not only made an offering of his life, that heaven might spare his superior, but urged his subjects to pray for the re covery of the Provincial. Their pray ers were heard. God took Father Ras- tall and spared Hoffaeus. A Good Example. A third Englishman, Giles Fesard, profited so well by the example of Stan islaus, that he was entrusted with the care of the novices at Prague, and died a holy death with the words of the nine ty-fourth and thirty-second Psalms on his lips. "Come let us praise the Lord with joy. Rejoice in the Lord, O ye just!" The fourth English fellow-novice, Christopher Perkins, was, alas ! to prove a double-dyed traitor. Turned out from the Society, he became a friend of the Cecils, came back to England, abandon ed his faith, and, though without Or ders, was made Protestant Dean of Car lisle. He rose to be Latin Secretary and Envoy Extraordinary to Queen Eliza beth, and played the part of a persecu tor of Catholics under James I. He married an aunt of the favorite Buck ingham. But he never gained the re gard of his countrymen and his con science was torn with remorse. He lies in a forgotten grave in Westminster Abbey. Among the many great names of those who were novices at the same time, two stand out in the history of the Eastern Missions. First and fore* most is Blessed Rodolf Acquaviva, who fought his way into the Novitiate against the wish of his father, the Duke of Atri. He was refused in consequence by the saintly General, St. Francis Bor gia. St. Pius V. who was then Pope, at last interfered and gained the father's consent. The soul of Rodolf was full of a de sire to go to Hindustan, the goal of so many holy hearts, since St. Francis Xav- ier had shown the way. He became the founder of the Mission of Central India, afterwards transferred to Agra, and which has existed from those days till our own. The most remarkable of the race of Mohammedan rulers of India, the Emperor Akbar, conceived the greatest regard for him and lodged him in a portion of his palace, in the mar vellous city of Fatehpur-skiri, which he had created like a fairy dream in a brief space of time. A Generous Musselman. To this day the ruins are an object of astonishment to all who behold them. There Rodolf had a public chapel, and by his ardent prayers and wonderful power of holiness, by his ready use of the Persian tongue — the language of the court — he strove to win to God the mighty ruler. But Akbar was a man before his time and if neither a fanati cal Hindoo nor a believing Musselman, was, like so many men of our own days with no religious convictions, save those which were dictated by his interests or his fancy. God who shielded Blessed Rodolf in the midst of that royal city, 620 SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. had reserved for him a martyr's death in Salsette of Goa. Alexander Valignani, a young Pied- montese gentleman who had been think ing of entering the army, took to study and won the Doctor's cap at nineteen, in the great University of Padua. When, from the path of promotion, he was call ed to the Society, he never halted on the path of perfection. Made Master of Novices. He was made master of Novices when he had but lately finished his own Novi tiate, and was then sent with full pow ers as visitor of the Jesuit Missions in the Far East. India, China, and Japan, were for thirty-three years the scenes of his unwearying labors, and God called him to his reward, as He had called his great model, St. Francis Xavier, on a little island, over against the mainland of China. Obedience, the flower of a Jesuit's vir tue, not even a thought ever rose in his mind against any command, nor did any present the slightest difficulty to him. Neither did he ever fail through the fickle member — the tongue — so thought ful was he before he spoke, so gentle and so wise were his words. They were full, too, of charm and set all hearts on fire with love of God, coming as they did from a heart aflame with ardent charity. He had a special gift of lifting the conversation in a joyous and easy way up to highest thoughts. Our Lady and the privilege of a religious vocation seemed his favorite topics. His face would flush and tears of joy would come to his eyes when he thought of this grace. He had written out those of the rules which concerned him and carried the copy always about him. One page of this is still treasured as a precious relic. His countenance, which had grown pale by sickness, breathed forth a sort of fragrance of holiness that drove out evil thoughts from tempted minds and fostered holy desires in those who saw him. His very portrait seemed to have this effect. He crucified his flesh by every means that his superiors would al low, and he ever thirsted for more pen ance. One of our English Confessors, Father James Bosgrove, who escaped the traitor's death at Tyburn only by being reprieved while on the road, met St. Stanislaus one day in the streets of Rome. Cruel Imprisonment. The cruel imprisonment he after wards endured in the London prisons, the tortures he went through therein never blotted out the impression which that angel face had made upon him. The prayer of our Saint grew more ardent as his end drew nearer. To him, as to St. Aloysius, distraction was unknown. His day was in fact almost an unbroken prayer. His modest downcast eyes used ever and again be cast upwards towards hea ven with a deep sigh — as of earnest longing. He went about the house as if lost to all but God, and his lips moved in colloquy with Him. His eyes were constantly brimming over with tears, and in time of prayer these flowed in streams. Often he seemed rapt in ecstacy. As on the face of Moses, so the refleo- tion of God's presence was seen at times' in this angelic youth, and his face shone as a flame. But still more frequently the divine fire which burnt within his SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 621 heart produced such effects that he was unable to conceal them, for the heat within was so intense that it brought on spasms and fainting fits. Again and again clothes dipped in the chill water of the garden fountain had to be applied to his chest, or during the winter time he walked out in the novices' garden, when the bitter north wind was blow ing, that it might temper the flame that consumed him and was wasting away the structure of his earthly tenement. Devotion to the Holy Mother. His superiors gave him in charge of one of the novices, a doctor by profes sion, with orders to watch over him and use any restoratives that science could apply. His love of Mary was, after that of Jesus, the reigning power of his soul. He could not find phrases sufficient to express her worth, and the Rosary and Little Office were recited by him every day with a visible delight. In the early part of the summer of 1568, B. Peter Canisius had come to Rome, summoned by St. Pius V. to give J advice as to the means of advancing the faith in Germany. The Novice-mas ter invited this saintly and experienced man to come and give a spiritu-1 exhor tation to his little flock, and many of the Fathers from the other houses in the holy city asked and obtained permission to be present. It was the 1st of August, the harvest time, when the Romans make merry as though to brave the deadly fever which then stalks over Rome. He took for his text a local proverb — Ferrare Agosto — Welcome to August; and he taught from it the wise lesson to enter upon each month as if it were our last, and to get ready by fresh diligence to meet our God. It was the custom for the novices af ter an exhortation, to gather in little groups and talk over what they had heard. Stanislaus said that while the warning was useful for all, to him it came as a summons from God that he should die that month. He was in his ordinary health and no one seems to have attached much weight to what he said. That same day, as is the custom in many religious houses, each novice drew from a heap of tickets the name of a patron Saint of the new month. The martyr St. Laurence fell to Stanislaus. He asked his superiors to allow him^ a long list of penances in the Saint's honor. But they refused permission for the larger portion. Four days after, Stanislaus went on a visit to his favorite sanctuary of our Lady, the Madonna of St. Luke at St. Mary Major's: it was the beautiful festival of the Dedication of the Basilica, when a miraculous fall of snow had marked out the site of the church and gained for that day the title of Our Lady of the Snow. He had for a companion a venerable old professor of Sacred Scripture. Feast of the Assumption. Talking on the way about the coming feast of Our Lady's Assumption, which is kept so solemnly every year at St. Mary Major's, the young Saint plainly said he hoped to witness it in heaven. The Father thought he only meant that he would see its glories in spirit. On the 9th of August, the eve of St. Laurence, he performed a public pen ance in the refectory, and went next morning to Holy Communion. He car ried on his breast a letter, addressed to 622 SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. our Lady, begging for the privilege of being admitted to enjoy the coming feast of the Assumption in Heaven, and imploring St. Laurence to present this his request to Mary and to further it by his prayer. He spent that morning working in the kitchen. A Forcible Reminder. The fire and no doubt the heat re minded him at once of hell and of the martyrdom of his patron on the grid iron. Before the day was done Stanis laus felt so ill that he was forced to inform the Brother, who had charge of him, and as he was being carried up stairs to his bed, he again said he should die in a few days. His Master of No vices and Claud Acquaviva came to visit him, and to both he told the re quest he had made to his heavenly Mo ther, and that he hoped by that time his prayer was heard. On Friday two days later, a slight tertian fever declared itself and he was borne in the arms of a German novice, whom he had known in Dillingen, up to another and more airy room. When he reached it, he knelt down beside the bed and prayed for a short time, and then before getting into it, he blessed it and said, "I shall never get up again," add ing, to calm the sorrow of those around about him, "At least, if it please God !" Sunday came, the eve of the Assump tion, and, though no serious symptoms had shown themselves, the Saint assur ed a Brother who was waiting on him that he would die that night. "It would need a greater miracle for you to die of so light an illness, than to be cured of it;" was the reply, "unless indeed our Lady wishes you to spend the Assump tion with her in heaven." But before the day was half past a sudden fainting fit, accompanied by the loss of strength, showed that his words were too true. "O man of little heart!" said the No vice-master; "do you lose courage for so slight a matter?" "I am a man of lit tle heart," replied the Saint; "but the matter is not so light, for I shall die of it." The symptoms grew more serious, and at nightfall he made his confession, and the Holy Viaticum was brought to him. The sight of his Lord revived him. His whole frame trembled with emotion, while the light came back to his eyes. As the novices knelt around him, weeping bitterly at his approaching death, he humbly begged pardon for the faults he had committed and thanked his superiors for their great goodness to him. He especially begged that the Father General should receive his ex pression of gratitude for having receiv ed him into the Order. Then with deep devotion he made his last Communion, and received Extreme Unction. He re verently repeated all the responses of the holy rites. A Season of Doubt. One thing alone troubled him, a doubt as to whether he had been ever confirmed. The state of things in Po land in Austria and Germany, and the short time Stanislaus had been in Rome would have accounted for the omission had there been any. It was urged that it was now too late, and one of the Fa thers comforted him by recalling the singular graces which he had received, and he thus regained his peace of mind. After receiving Extreme Unction, he repeated his confession to gain the In dulgence granted at the hour of death. SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 623 Then the dying youth talked for a brief space, his face all beaming, to those around him. A blessed rosary was put into his hands and the Father, who had charge of him when at the Professed house, and had come to visit him, asked him, — for he kept on kissing the medal, ¦ — what he was doing with his beads. "They are my most blessed Moth er's," he replied with a bright smile. "Courage," the Father said, "for you will soon see your Mother and be able to kiss her hand!" The very thought transported him with such joy that he lifted up his hands and eyes, as though he already beheld her. He kept repeat ing the holy names, and then every now and again, "My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready!" A Contrite Penitent. Stanislaus for a third time made his confession. He had asked time after time to be laid on the ground that he might die as a penitent. At last the request was so far granted that a pallet was stretched on the floor and he was placed upon it. The night was wearing on. He inquired about his fellow no vices and when he found they had gone to bed he renewed his messages and greeting, and begged again their for giveness for all the scandal he had given ! There were kneeling around him his two Novice-masters and a few other members of the community. As he felt his hour draw nigh, he said to his con fessor, "The time is short." "Yes," the Father replied, "it remains"—; "That we be ready," added the Saint. Then he followed fervently some other prayers said by the Fathers, grasping his crucifix all the while. They feared to tire him; but when they ceas ed, he at once began to pour out his soul in Latin, thanking God for all His favors, especially for having died for him and for having called him to religi ous life. Then he kissed devoutly the wounds of his Crucified Lord and bow ed his head over the Crown of Thorns. He called for a little note book in which he had marked down his monthly pa trons, and begged those around to pray to those Saints for him. He was asked if he were prepared to die, and his joy ous reply was, "My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready!" The Peace of Death. The morning of our Lady's Assump tion was come, the dawn was near. Sud denly he ceased his prayers, and his face beamed with a wonderful joy. He gazed around the room and seemed as though he wished those present to join in an act of reverence to some high and holy personage who was present. He kept saying that he saw distinctly Mary and a band of angels — and then the face with the radiant smile upon it set tled down into the peace of death. Stanislaus lay there with a blessed candle in one hand, his crucifix and rosary in the other. The bystanders looked at each other as if to ask wheth er or not he were dead. One of them raised to Stanislaus' eyes a picture of our Lady which lay beside him. This had always met with a response. Now there was none. It was evident that his soul had gone to God. It was shortly after three when he entered upon his reward. We almost seem to know St. Stanis laus, with his pleasing but pale face, though with a bright flush on his cheeks 624 SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. and his eyes bright when not dimmed by a mist of tears. He was of middle height, full grown and strong. As in the beautiful statue at Rome, so did his brethren find him, when rising at an early hour they saw him lying as though in a calm sleep, but gone from them to God. Sanctity of Stanislaus. After Stanislaus' flight from Vienna, Paul Kostka had returned to his father in Poland and both of them were very indignant at what had happened. The old Castellan wrote a violent letter to Stanislaus which reached him while still alive, threatening to come himself and bring the fugitive back in chains. The Saint sent back a firm but gentle reply, and Paul was despatched to Rome to carry out his father's threat, but did not arrive until a month after his brother's death, only to find the whole city ring ing with the fame of the sanctity of Stanislaus. He returned home a chang ed man. The funeral had been attended by crowds, and the fame of our Saint's holiness spread quickly to Poland. Two years later 1569 the body was found in corrupt. A versified life of the Saint was published at Krakow in 1570, and, in 1602, Clement VIII. gave an authori- zation for the work to be published in Rome and in the Brief he five times call ed Stanislaus by the name of Blessed. The news of this honor was received with rapture in Poland, and the family of Kostka especially shared in the uni versal joy. Our Saint's father and mo ther and two brothers were then living, though the father and Albert, one of his sons, died shortly after. Even before the death of his holy mother, Paul gave himself up to a life of great prayer, aus terity and charity. He even begged to be received into the Society of Jesus, though then a broken-down old man. The permission was granted, but he passed away before he could carry out his designs. He had never ceased to la ment to the very end with bitter tears his cruelty to his holy brother. Strange ly enough he died on the 13th of No vember, 1605, the day of the month af terwards chosen for the Saint's feast. The tutor, Bilinski, became a priest, and conceived great devotion for his holy pupil. He died with the portrait of the holy youth before him and St. Stanis laus came to comfort him in his agony. Poland Saved by a Relic. In a crisis when Poland, the bulwark of Christendom, seemed to be going down before the hordes of the Great Turk, the king of that valiant country sent to Rome to beg for the skull of St. Stanislaus. The Poles had chosen the Saint for one of their national patrons. The victory of Chocim, in 1621, was at tributed to the arrival of the precious relic. Nor was this the only time when his countrymen owed to his interces sion their safety in moments of like peril. The great John Sobieski held with a small force a post for twenty days against a Turkish force fifteen times more numerous than his own, and his success was attributed to the inter cession of St. Stanislaus. It was on the 13th of November that St. Stanislaus' remains were translated to the exquisite little church where they now repose. In 1726 the holy Domini can, Pope Benedict XIII., raised St. Stanislaus with his brother Saint, Aloy- SAINT STANISLAUS KOSTKA. 625 sius Gonzaga, to the highest honors of the altar, that of a canonized Saint. During the evil days of French invas ion a Good Canon, at great peril to him self, received the precious relics from St. Andrea's and carried them for safety to Austria. When Pius VII. came to his own again, the relics were restored. But the powers that be have not re spected a sanctuary hollowed by so many Saints and by the tomb of one of the Kings of Savoy, who had laid down his crown to become a lay-brother of the Society of Jesus in that holy house. The novitiate was pulled down in spite of the petitions of the ladies of Po land, and the graceful statue and me mories of the Saint were transferred to a new building alongside the church. The skull, or at least a portion of it, escaped the perils of the revolutionary wars, and this is now the precious treas ure of the exiled Fathers of the Ger man Province of the Society of Jesus. May the memory of our brave young Saint be a shield to the youth of every land in moments of danger! May he intercede for his heroic Fatherland! And may young and old alike follow him in his devotion to Our Lord and his deep affection for Our Lady! 40-C P Vol. 2 SAINT PHILIP NERI. BY O. AMBROSE LEE, E.S.A. HILIP — or as his name is re gistered in the church of St. John Baptist, "Filippo Romolo," — the son of Fran cesco Neri and his wife Lucrezia Soldi, was born on the 2ist of July, 1525, in the city of Florence. His parents were members of wealthy Tuscan families, and more over were pious Catholics, whose care was, by example and good instructions, to bring up their four children in the careful practice of their holy religion. From five years of age Philip was re markable for the implicit obedience which he paid to even the least com mands or wishes of his parents; and this obedience was extended to his fa ther's second wife, between whom and the subject of our sketch the tenderest attachment existed, his step-mother on her death bed constantly repeating Phil ip's name, saying that it refreshed her even to think of him. From his infancy, Philip showed an unusual affection for prayer, mortifica tion, and religious exercises; taking pleasure in such things, rather than in dressing altars and the like. Nor did this early piety, as is not unfrequently the case, render him distasteful to fiis companions, for it was accompanied by such good humor and gentle gaiety, as to gain for him amongst them the af fectionate title of "Good Pippo." He had an ardent desire to share in the suf ferings of our Lord, and bore with the 626 greatest patience all his youthful ill nesses, rejoicing when the pain was se vere and protracted, inasmuch as it brought him nearer to Him who had en dured so much for his sake. When Philip had successfully com pleted the ordinary course of studies of a youth of that period, his parents, anx ious also for his worldly success, sent him to Naples, to the establishment of a relative, who was there the head of an extensive commercial establishment and had himself felt a great attraction to wards "Good Pippo." Philip, however, had already secretly determined to devote his life to the ser vice of Almighty God; and though in obedience to his father's wish he appli ed himself very diligently to the studies of his new position in his relative's es tablishment, he spent all his spare time including often whole nights, in prayer, generally before a crucifix in a little lonely chapel among the mountains, at the foot of which St. Germano is situ ated. Thus two years passed, Philip growing more and more detached from the world and worldly things, and his purpose of forsaking them becoming stronger and clearer; while his relative found the diligence in business and ami ability of character of his young assist ant both profitable and attractive. At the end of this period, when he had reached his eighteenth year, Philip, in spite of his relative's affectionate en treaties and offers of the inheritance of SAINT PHILIP NERL 627 his great wealth, bade farewell to St. Germano; and alone, with no provision for the way, no money, no plans, trust ing all his future entirely to God, turn ed his steps towards Rome. In 1533 he entered the Holy City, and from that time till the day of his death never left the neighborhood of Rome. An acci dental meeting with Galleotto Caccia, a Florentine gentleman, procured for him a home and the tutorship to Caccia's two sons, whom he educated in habits of great piety and virtue. Life of Great Austerity. Here Philip's life was one of great austerity. Ordinarily he ate only once a day, his meal consisting of a small loaf and some water, to which was oc casionally added a few olives or some vegetables ; and even this poor food was sometimes omitted for three days at a time. He slept on the floor only, his few clothes hung on a cord stretched across the room. His duties towards his pupils did not prevent Philip from making marked progress in his own studies, and becoming distinguished both in Philosophy and Divinity. It was impossible that so clear a light should be hidden, and the fame of his sanctity began to be spread about, and even reached Florence. From piety, curiosity, or want of excitement, num bers sought his acquaintance; but, re served and cautious, Philip formed but few intimacies, dreading the loss of time or the weakening of his hold on spiritual things consequent on useless or idle conversations; and he therefore gave up from prayers and studies only that time which duty or charity de manded. Philip's humility, piety, and love of virtue did not exempt him from some of the usual and most insidious tempta tions of youth. On one occasion he was addressed by some evil persons resolv ed to corrupt his morals and lead him to sin, but he spoke to them with such strength and fervor that they not only abandoned the attempt but were touch ed with true sorrow and repentance. Saved by Prayer. On another occasion some persons had been hidden in his room, and these, when he entered, closed the door to pre vent his escape; but the Saint betook # himself to prayer, and in shame and confusion his tempters presently retir ed. Interior temptation also he suffer ed, until he was over fifty years of age ; but although tried, God never permitted him to fall, humility and constant mor tification of the senses, even in the smallest things, being his chief safe guards. Having led a very solitary and aus tere life for about two more years, Phil ip determined to add to his former stud ies that of Philosophy and Theology, and these he pursued most successfully under some of the first professors of his day; he also constantly read and medi tated upon the Holy Scriptures, acquir ing great readiness and accuracy in ap plying them, of which on occasion he would avail himself, to the great edifi cation of his hearers. Having now made, as he considered, sufficient ad vancement in learning, both religious and secular, Philip laid aside his studies and gave up his life entirely to God. Long and frequent prayer, constant mortifications and penance, the nightly 628 SAINT PHILIP NERL practice of the pilgrimage known as "The Seven Churches — a distance of twelve miles — and frequent visits to the Catacombs of St. Sebastian outside the city, kept him separated almost entirely from the society of men, though often he would stop to instruct the groups of poor who congregate around the en trances of the principal churches and basilicas. At this period, as before, al though favored by Almighty God with many great sensible consolations, Phil ip was constantly exposed to grievous and distressing temptations. Early Religious Fervor. When he was twenty-nine years old, shortly before the feast of Whitsuntide, and while he was engaged in prayer to the Holy Ghost, to whom he had a most fervent devotion, Philip experienced so extraordinary a rapture, that, on re covering from it, he found on his side just over his heart a swelling as large as a man's fist, which, after his death, was ascertained to be caused by the opening of two of his ribs, which were thrust forward, apparently to allow his heart or other vessels full play, for from this time till his death he was affected by an extraordinary palpitation of the heart, which came on when he was per forming any spiritual action, and which was often so vehement as to shake his chair or anything with which he came in contact. In addition to this, Philip sometimes felt in the region of his heart such an extraordinary heat that even in the mid dle of winter he could scarcely bear his doublet fastened, and on the coldest nights his window was often open, and other measures taken to moderate the intense heat. No remedies however — and many were tried — affected these visitations, and though the Saint strove to hide them, their effects were patent to all, and even the physicians who at tended him in his illnesses had no doubt of their supernatural character. When he had lived thus a retired life for a considerable time, Philip feeling himself called by God to the conversion of souls quitted his solitude and began a sort of missionary life amongst the fre quenters of the squares, shops, and other places of resort in the city. His success was marvelous; for by his na tural sweetness of manner and power of attraction he gained a great and salutary influence over men, even over many of those who were leading the worst of lives. Numbers of his converts left the world, and either served God in religion or as secular priests; indeed, so many were these, that St. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, who was at that time in Rome, used to call him "the Bell," because while calling others into the Church, Philip himself remained in the world. Nor were the efforts of Ig natius to induce Philip to enter his So ciety successful, God having another sphere of work for His chosen servant. Wonderful Zeal for Souls. To his great zeal for souls, Philip joined the exercise of many corporal works of mercy, which at this time were not much used, at least by men in the world, such as visiting and serving the sick in the hospitals, attending them when dying, and helping and cheering them by his bright and refreshing con versation and presence. In these good works he was soon joined by many de vout persons, both lay and ecclesiastic, SAINT PHILIP NERL 629 and sometime afterwards, the Order of Ministers of the Sick was founded for the same object by St. Camillus of Lel- lis, one of Philip's spiritual children. Fruitful Labor for Souls. One of the results of Philip's labors for souls was, the foundation about the year 1548, of a sort of gild or confra ternity, the members of which met to gether for the reception of the sacra ments, prayer in common, and other pious works. On the first Sunday in every month and at other holy seasons they took it in turns to watch before the Blessed Sacrament exposed for the Forty Hours Prayer, a devotion but re cently introduced from Milan. Some two years later, on the occasion of the Jubilee of Pope Julius III., they added to the above good works that of receiv ing and caring for the poor pilgrims who daily arrived in Rome to visit the holy places. For this purpose a small house was hired, and as the work increased, a larger one; and here Philip and his companions constantly labored with the most perfect charity to assist and help all who came to them. This con fraternity, which was known as that of the Most Holy Trinity, rapidly increas ed, and on the occasion of subsequent Papal Jubilees, received enormous num bers of pilgrims, who were attended by the pious people in the city; cardinals, prelates and princes being often among those who came out of devotion to as sist in this good work. Philip had long ago determined to de vote his life to the service of Almighty God, but in his humility had intended to do this as a layman. His confessor, however — a holy priest named Persiano Rosa — seeing his great power with souls, persuaded Philip to submit to his direction and prepare for Holy Orders, and in consequence he was ordained priest on the 23rd of May, 1557, being then thirty-six years old. Philip was about the middle height. with a fair complexion and cheerful countenance. In his youth he was very handsome; his forehead was high and broad; his nose aquiline; his eyes small and blue, rather sunk, but of a very live ly expression; his beard was short and black, but in his old age became quite white. After his ordination Philip went to live in community with Persiano Rosa and a small company of priests, at the church of St. Jerome of Charity. No special rules were observed, nor was there any superior, all living together a very tranquil and holy life. Meals were not eaten in common, but by each one in his own room, though they all constantly united in prayer and the fre- quentation of the Sacraments. A Wonderful Act of Devotion. Here Philip began the practice, which he never afterwards interrupted, of say ing Mass daily unless hindered by some serious illness, and even then he always received Holy Communion. His Mass was always a wonderful act of devotion. Often during it he fell into raptures, in which his body would be seen raised from the earth ; his hands trembled with joy at contact with the sacred elements, and so absorbed did he become in pray er and ecstacy that he had often to be roused to continue the Mass, which, on account of these raptures, was, towards the end of his life, always said privately in a little chapel in the house, 630 SAINT PHILIP NERL After the Agnus Dei, the server was accustomed to retire, lock the door, and leave the Saint for two hours alone. What passed then between God and liis servant none can tell, but his server said he looked as one who had just breathed out his soul to God. Troublous Times. The times in which St. Philip lived were very troubled ones. Civil and other wars distracted the continent, and while religion often formed the osten sible cause of long and sanguinary con flicts, men themselves lived, as a rule very remissly, observing the rules of the Church rather in the letter than the spirit, even when they did not disre gard them altogether. Philip with his holy companions looked on this state of affairs with great solicitude and anx iety, and made it their first aim to lead men back, through the sacraments, to God. Frequent confession and communion were the remedies he employed for the fatal laxity of the age. He was always ready to hear confessions; early in the morning, in his own room; after day break in the church, where he often spent the whole morning in the confes sional. To young men and boys he es pecially devoted himself; he would in vite them to his room, speak to them in the most winning way of the things of God, and often take them about with him to different churches to Mass or Office. The younger children when with him often made a great deal of noise, romping and playing as children always do. A Roman gentleman once, wondering at the uproar made by them, asked Phil ip how he could possibly bear it. Philip instantly replied, "They may chop fire wood on my back, so long as they do not sin." He never allowed any of his children to be in low spirits, and direct ly he noticed a want of cheerfulness in any of them, he would ask him why he was in such a mood, perhaps accom panying his question with a playful box on the ear, and concluding it with an admonition to be merry. As the number of those whom he at tracted round him increased, Philip, finding his own little room too small to hold them all, obtained, in 1558, permis sion from the authorities of St. Jerome to fit up one side of the church above the nave, and here he furnished an oratory and transferred to it the spirit ual exercises which had hitherto taken place in his room. Daily Discourses. Here every day Philip used to assem ble his disciples and after a time began those familiar discourses — still given In the churches of the Congregation of the Oratory — which partake more of the character of spiritual conferences than of regular sermons. The lives of the saints, ecclesiastical history, and spiritual subjects, illustrat ed from the Word of God or the writ ings of the Fathers, formed the staple of these discourses, or — as not unfre- quently they then were — dialogues. Prayer and the singing of psalms or hymns concluded the exercises. Form ed on the model of the ancient apostolic al and primitive assemblies, and approv ed by the authority of the Holy See, these were, and have been since, the means of sanctification to myriad of souls. Philip also instituted the pilgrimage SAINT PHILIP NERL 631 to the Seven Churches, to which allus ion has been made above. Several times a year,- generally at the seasons of pub lic feastings or holiday-making, such as the Carnival and the days after Easter, the Saint, accompanied by his spiritual sons, would start from the Basilica of St. Peter, and in the course of the day accomplish this long and tedious pil grimage. When this devotion was first instituted Philip had between twenty and thirty companions, but before his death this number swelled to upwards of two thousand persons. Philip's great devotion to the Passion of our Divine Lord led him at one time to conceive a fervent desire to go to In dia, to which country the reports of the Jesuit missionaries were then first at tracting attention, in order that he might if need be shed his blood for the love of Christ; but a holy monk, whom he consulted on this subject, told him that it was the will of God that Rome should be his India. Philip accepted his mission, and never after left the city. Heads a Confraternity. In the year 1564 the Saint was desir ed by the inhabitants of Florence to be come the head of a confraternity of ten priests, established by papal authority at their church of St. John in Rome. Philip however declined, saying that he could not bring himself to leave St. Jer ome's. The Florentines pressed their request, and when they had obtained the countenance of the Pope, Pius IV., Philip yielded, on condition that he should not be obliged to leave St. Jer ome's. Philip found in the small community at St. John's a fair field for the under taking towards which his attention had long been turned. He saw clearly the immense advantages that might be de rived from a congregation of secular priests living together in community: and, to this end, drew up forthwith a few constitutions which all at St. John's began to observe with great satisfac tion. Twice a day all went to St. Jer ome's, either to confess to the Saint, or for the sermons and spiritual exer cises, while at home each took in turn the various domestic offices, waiting on each other, cooking, and the like. Mutual Companionship. During the two meals that were eat en in common, some portion of the Holy Scriptures, or a spiritual book in the vernacular was read, after which some case of conscience or moral doubt was proposed by one of the community, and each in turn answered according to his own opinion. On the last day of the week all assisted in sweeping and cleansing the church, this being the ori gin of the custom still observed in the churches of the Congregation, of al ways omitting on this day the usual dis courses and exercises. About ten years later, in 1574, the Florentines prevailed on Philip to trans fer the exercises, which it will be re membered had hitherto been held at St. Jerome's, to a spacious church which they had built for this purpose at' St. John's. The multitude that assembled here to take part in them increased very much, many bishops, prelates, and re ligious being among the number, and a great improvement in the manners and morals of the city was the result. It must not however be supposed that Philip, during this period had met with no trials or crosses such as always beset 632 SAINT PHILIP NERL those who work for the glory of God and the good of souls — either from tepid brethren or malicious enemies. When in 1552 the exercises were first started at St. Jerome's many ill-natured persons did all in their power, both openly and secretly, to abuse and calumniate both the Saint and his work. Aggrieved Sacristans. Amongst those who felt themselves most aggrieved by the success of Phil ip's spiritual labors were the two sacris tans at St. Jerome's, who, for about two years, did all in their power, both by calumny, and even personal insults to drive Philip from the church. The Saint, however, did not allow himself to be in the slightest degree dis turbed by these injuries and affronts, making light of them and laughing about them, but always behaving to their authors with the greatest kindness and humility, and never letting an op portunity slip of doing them a service. The eventual result of Philip's great and long-continued patience was that one after another his enemies were touched with remorse and compassion, humbly asked his pardon, and went about publishing everywhere the sanc tity of the holy Father. But these were slight matters com pared with the storm that arose in Rome in 1559, against the pilgrimage to the Seven Churches. On account of this, every base and selfish motive was imputed to the Saint — pride, a desire for notoriety; and even the pilgrimage was by some described as a flimsy excuse for a mere pic-nic or merry-making. Philip bore all this ill-natured abuse with the greatest patience and tranquillity, mak ing excuses for those who were his chief detractors and always speaking most kindly to them. The rumors against him increased however, and at last reached the ears of the Pope's Vicar, who, misled by their purport, sent for Philip, and admonish ed him with great severity, command ing him to discontinue the exercises till he obtained fresh leave : not to go about with any company of persons, and to abstain from hearing confessions for a fortnight, threatening him also with im prisonment if he disobeyed, and gener ally treating him with extreme and un necessary harshness. A Modest Explanation. The Saint very modestly explained, that, as he had begun the exercises for the glory of God, so for His glory would he leave them off; that he should al ways prefer the injunctions of his su periors to his own plans; and that his only object in introducing the pilgrim age to the Seven Churches had been to give his penitents recreation and to keep them out of the sins so general during Carnival time. The Vicar was not, however, to be pacified. "You are an ambitious man," he replied, with vio lence, "and what you do, you do not for the glory of God, but to make yourself head of a party." Philip, turning to a crucifix and saying, "Lord, Thou know- est whether what I do is to make my self head of a party, or for Thy service," went away. He was not however at all disconcert ed at this undeserved opposition to his work, but excused the authors of it in the best manner he was able, and con stantly said to his followers, "This per secution is not for you but for me; God wishes to make me humble and patient; SAINT PHILIP NERL 633 and be sure that as soon as I have gained from it the fruit which God intends and am thoroughly mortified, the persecu tion will cease." And indeed a short time afterwards, the Pope, Paul IV., hearing of the whole affair and of the Saint's patience and modesty, conclud ed that his actions were under God's guidance, and gave him full leave to re sume both the exercises and the pil grimage to the Seven Churches. Several other attacks on the Saint are recorded, but as they were very similar in outline and detail to the above, and ended in like manner in the discomfit ure of his traducers, a mere reference to them is sufficient. Malicious Persecution. It will be recollected that Philip had at the earnestly expressed wish of the Florentines and the special desire of the Pope undertaken the charge of the Florentine church at St. John. The outcome of one of the malicious perse cutions above alluded to was, that the removal of Phillip and all whom he had placed at St. John's was discussed and advocated by certain of the Floren tines, who had listened to some wretch ed calumny of his enemies. No reso lution was however arrived at, but the Saint, considering the danger which menaced his people of finding them-r selves without either church or house in which to meet and carry on the exer cises, concluded that the community now needed a more secure foundation and a church of its own. Two churches were proposed for this purpose, and by the advice of the Pope, Gregory XIII., Philip chose that of St. Mary of Vallicella, which, being in a much frequented part of the city, was well suited for the exercises. Here, in 1575, Pope Gregory confirmed by a Bull dated July 15, the constitutions of a Congregation of secular Priests, named "The Congregation of the Oratory." St. Mary's was but a small church and in bad repair, and although they had no funds, Philip, having the greatest faith in the providence of God, ordered the church to be pulled down and plans prepared for a grand and spacious build ing to replace it. Money for Buildings. Although he refused to beg, money came in unexpectedly and in sufficient quantities to complete the handsome building near the Monte Giorando, which is still known as "La Chiesa Nuova." On the third of February, 1557, the first Mass was celebrated in it by the Archbishop of Florence, in the presence of an immense multitude ; and in April, of the same year, when Philip had given up all connection with" St. John's, the community and the exer cises were moved to St. Mary's ; and, the former increasing to a hundred and thirty persons, some extra buildings had to be provided in which to lodge them. Although the Oratory was thus se curely established, so much did Philip shrink from being looked upon as its founder that for six years, in spite of the entreaties of the Fathers, he con tinued to live at St. Jerome's, where it will be remembered he had never ceased to reside, even during the time when the exercises were being held at the Florentine church of St. John. He ex cused himself from their entreaties in his usual playful manner, but the Fath ers, feeling how essential for the Con- 634 SAINT PHILIP NERL gregation was the presence of its head, at length petitioned the Pope to give Philip an obedience to live with them at the Vallicella. Cheerful Obedience. This petition the Pope considered reasonable, and ordered Philip by all means to take up his abode at the new church. The Saint, always a lover of obedience, especially to the Vicar of Christ, instantly obeyed, and on St. Cecilia's Day, 1583, left St. Jerome's, where he had lived for three and thirty years, and went to St. Mary's. He could not avoid being chosen Superior for life ; but stripped the office of every out ward distinction, and would have no other title than that of "Father." He had no idea of introducing a new Order, saying that his children were to be bound by no tie but that of charity, and that though he wished them to imitate religious in their perfections, they were in all outward things to live as secular priests and clerics. Nor were they required to renounce such worldly possessions as they might have, the Saint wishing in fact, to make the community life a tempting refuge for those who could not join any of the religious orders on account of the sever ity of the rule, and yet who wished for a retirement where they could serve God more freely and more perfectly than in the world. The constitutions of the Congregation, which, with the ad vice of several persons of piety, learn ing, and prudence, the Saint drew up, were finally approved and confirmed in an Apostolic Brief, dated February 24, 1612, by Pope Paul V., and were gener ally formed on the same idea as those which Philip had established at St. John's, which we have briefly sketched above. Hitherto we have endeavored to give the reader a short and concise account of the rise and progress of the Congre gation of the Oratory and the Saint's connection with it. We may now briefly consider some of his virtues, and the extraordinary favors and graces grant ed him by Almighty God. He had the most tender devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, feeling the greatest sensible delight in Its presence, and at Commun ion he could scarcely restrain his rap tures and ecstacy. A Sacred Chalice. His little silver-gilt chalice may still be seen at Rome, the gilding worn off, the silver even dented with the marks of his teeth, as if he could not separate himself even from the vessel which had contained the Blood of his Lord. Once when he was so ill that the doctors thought he was dying, the priest who was waiting on him, fearing the effect on Philip of his tears and devotion, gave directions that he should not be communicated. After a delay which seemed to the Saint endless, he sent for the priest and said, "I tell you I cannot sleep for the desire I have for the Bless ed Sacrament; make them bring me Communion ; I shall go to sleep as soon as I have received it." And indeed as soon as he had communicated he began to amend. Another time when he was near his death, the priest, who was giving him Communion, held the Host in his hand for some time and was slow in giving It to him. "Antonio, why do you hold my Lord in your hand, and not give Him to me?" said Philip, unable to en- SAINT PHILIP NERL 635 dure the delay: and the priest was so touched by his devotion and simplicity as to burst into tears. Philip's devo tion to the Mother of God was most childlike and touching. He spoke of and to her as if she were actually his mother, calling her "Mamma mia," and by other endearing titles. He had two ejaculations which he was constantly making in her honor. The first was "Virgin Mother of God, pray to Jesus for me a sinner ;" the sec ond, simply "Virgin and Mother;" for he said that in these words all the pos sible praises of Our Lady were briefly comprised. Of these two prayers he taught his penitents to make a chaplet or rosary, while he himself almost al ways carried beads in his hand in order to practice this devotion. Humility and Self-Mortification. Philip's humility and self-mortifica tion were remarkable and unusual, and clearly indicate the great height of sanc tity to which he attained. One of his chief studies was to get himself looked Upon as a mean and worthless person, and to do this he would mortify himself both in public and private with every variety of mortification. Indeed he con stantly said and did things which, if looked at externally, only seemed fri volous and foolish; but beneath which those who knew Philip's estimate of the world's approbation were able to detect the spirit of a real saint. Distinguished foreigners and great people would sometimes go to see him whom Rome and elsewhere proclaimed so saintly, and would be astonished to find the old man apparently absorbed in listening to somebody reading aloud some silly jest or story book, of which he kept a supply near him for this pur pose. Once he had half his beard shav ed off, and enjoyed the ridicule thus brought upon him ; indeed he seldom let a day pass without devising some mor tification or means of making himself a laughing stock. Strong Mark of Affection. Nor was he less solicitious of the spiritual advancement of his penitents than of his own. To keep his children humble, and make them regardless of their reputation and the esteem of men, was his constant care; and numberless were the inventions he hit upon to do this. One of the most influential men • at court had a dog which he prized very much, and petted in the most extraordi nary way. It happened that one morn ing a gentleman of his suite brought this dog with him to St. Jerome's and directly Philip began to caress it, the dog took such a fancy to him that it would not leave his rooms, although St. Philip sent it back to his master time after time. At first the owner of the dog was very much annoyed at this; he petted it more than ever to hinder it from running away, and even kept it tied up for some days. At last seeing that it always ran off to St. Jerome's as soon as it was let loose, although Philip had nothing to give it but a bit of bread, he said laughingly, in allus ion to some of his gentlemen who at Philip's persuasion had left his service in order to serve God more perfectly, "Father Philip is not contented with taking men from me, but must needs take even my animals." When he went to live at St. Mary's, for a similar purpose Philip left a cat at St. Jerome's, and for six years daily 636 SAINT PHILIP NERL sent some of his people to look after her, and to fetch meat from the but cher's for her. When they returned, though they were often noblemen, in the presence of whoever happened to be there with him — cardinals or prelates — he always asked after the cat, how she was, whether they had made her comfortable, if she had eaten well, and other questions, as if it were a mat ter of the greatest and most pressing importance, to the intense astonishment, as we may well imagine, of his illus trious visitors. It is worthy of remark, however, that all the mortifications which Philip im posed on his penitents and others, were most carefully adapted to their dispo sitions and needs, and were almost in variably accepted cheerfully and will ingly, thus producing in the penitents' souls the fruit at which the Saint was aiming. He often repeated the sen tence of St. Bernard, "Despise the world, despise nothing, despise yourself, despise being despised," sometimes adding, "But these are the gifts of the Most High," or some expression showing the importance he attached to mortification, or his opin ion of its difficulty. The Virtue of Patience. It has been said by theologians that the virtue of patience is both the most difficult, and the last to attain to in the order of grace. Philip possessed this virtue in the highest degree. No one ever saw him angry or depressed. He was always cheerful and innocently gay, and his community used to say, "You may say or do what you like to Father Philip and insult him as you please, but you cannot put him out of temper." Sometimes, indeed, for the good of his spiritual children, or to correct them if needful, he would put on a severe look or pretend to be greatly displeased ; but as soon as the desired effect had been attained he would laugh, and perhaps say, "Did you think I was in a pas sion?" or, "Well, are you scandalized at me, eh?" Being of a delicate constitu tion, scarcely a year passed without Philip being attacked by fevers, which lasted a long time, and during which he suffered much and keenly. But he bore all without murmuring or showing the least impatience. Prayer for Fortitude. "Lord, increase my suffering, but in crease my patience, too," he would pray, and he would tell any of his disciples who grumbled at troubles or crosses, that there is no surer or clearer mark of God's love than adversity, and that they should never fly from a cross, for they would be sure to come upon a greater one instead. It was remarked, too, that when he was ill, instead of re ceiving consolations from his visitors, he ministered consolation to them, en tertaining them in his usual winning way. He did not, however, advise his penitents to ask for troubles from God, saying that it is no little thing to bear patiently what God sends one day by day, these being sufficient for our sanc tification. Philip had a great admiration for the founder of the Company of Jesus, St. Ignatius Loyola, whom he met in Rome. He used to say that the inter ior beauty of that holy man was so great that he could discern it in his countenance; and after his death, al though he was not yet canonized, Philip SAINT PHILIP NERL 637 used to go to his tomb to ask his pray ers, and recommended himself to his protection. Philip was also known to bear a particular affection for the stu dents of the English College in Rome, lately founded by the Pope to supply the oppressed and persecuted English Catholics with a missionary clergy. And whenever it happened that they met him in the streets of Rome, he would return their salute with the words, "Hail, flowers of martrydom," for he knew that the noviciate com menced in Rome too often ended in the bloody profession of the gibbet and quartering block in apostate England. Towards the end of his life, it also be came customary with the students, as they left the Holy City to return to the dangers and honor of the English mis sion, to pay a visit to him, to ask his blessing and prayers. Gift of Prescience. Philip had a wonderful gift of read ing the thoughts of his penitents and knowing the secrets of their hearts. Eventually this became well known among them, and if they chanced, when together, to begin any conversation not quite free from sin they would stop to say, "No, no, we must take care, for Fa ther Philip will find us out." Many in stances are related of his reminding his penitents of particular faults or sins which through carelessness, forgetful- ness, or human respect, they had omit ted to confess. Needless to say this knowledge was always for their spirit ual good, and the penitents themselves were always the first to recognize this. Cardinal Frederick Borromeo (bro ther of the great St. Charles), speaking of Philip's power of detecting the sec rets of men's hearts, says, "Philip pos sessed this power to such a degree that he perceived the changes from bad to good and from good to bad however brief the time in which they took place ; so that when a certain person went into his presence on one occasion he said to him, 'You have a bad look,' upon which the man retired and made some acts of contrition; and Philip, without in the least knowing that he had been praying, said to him when he saw him again shortly afterwards, 'Ah, since you went away, you have changed your look.' " And numbers of his penitents and disci ples at the process of his canonization, gave evidence to the same effect. An Object of High Esteem. Philip was the object of the most ex traordinary esteem and reverence from his spiritual children and indeed of all who were brought into contact with him. Many looked upon him as a saint, and even before his death, used to pre serve and regard with great reverence any objects that he had touched or blessed. St. Charles, the great Archbishop of Milan, who knew him intimately, spoke of Philip to his own people as a saint, and recommended himself to his pray ers with great earnestness; St. Ignatius Loyola, St. Catherine of Ricci, St. Ca- millus of Lellis, and many other holy servants of God reverenced him as a person of great and wonderful sanctity, and it is related that people came to visit him not only from all parts of Italy, but from France, Spain, Germany, and more distant parts of Christendom, even infidels and Jews revering him as a good and holy man. In the year 1595, at the close of 638 SAINT PHILIP NERI. March, he was again seized with a fever, from which, however, he recovered suf ficiently to say Mass and give Commun ion on SS. Philip and James' Day (May i), who were his special patrons, and this he continued to do daily up to the twelfth of May. On that day so vio lent an effusion of blood from his mouth occurred, that his life was immediately despaired of, and, as Viaticum could not be given on account of the hemorrhage, Extreme Unction was administered, in the presence of Cardinal Frederick Bor romeo. Receiving the Sacrament. When Philip received this Sacrament he seemed to revive a little, and the Car dinal, seeing him better, left the room, to return with the Most Holy Sacra ment, as he wished to give Philip Via ticum with his own hand. The instant he entered the chamber, the Saint open ed his eyes, which till then had been closed, and joining with the most touch ing devotion in the customary prayers, received his Lord with the greatest ar dor and devotion. Contrary to every expectation, Phil ip, although he had lost a great quanti ty of blood — a most serious thing to happen to a man of his age — to all ap pearance completely recovered, saying to the doctors who came to see him on the morning after this alarming seizure, "Be off with you; your services are not wanted; my remedies are a great deal more efficacious than yours; I sent the first thing this morning to give alms to several religious houses, to say Masses and pray to Gbd for me, and from that time I have not lost any more blood, am free from pain, have no longer any diffi culty in breathing, and feel so much bet ter that I seem to have perfectly re covered." It was indeed true as the Saint said, for from that day until May 26, Philip continued in perfect health, saying Mass and Office, hearing confes sions and fulfilling all his priestly du ties. But his end was near. Long before, the Saint had foretold the time and all the circumstances of his death. The day before the Feast of Corpus Christi — which in this year fell on May 25 — he sent for Fr. Peter Consolini and asked him, as if bidding him farewell, to say Mass for him. Fr. Consolini replied that he had done so that day, and that he always said Mass for the Father when he had no other obligation. "But," he added, "I hardly consider you are in want of it now, for you are quite recovered." Philip replied, "The Mass that I ask of you is not the Mass you speak of, but the Mass of the Dead." Approaching the End. On the morning of Corpus Christi he began hearing the confessions of his spiritual children very early; speaking to them with great earnestness, and em bracing them with unusual tenderness and many marks of affection. He then said Mass two hours earlier than usual, and on coming to the Gloria in excelsis, he began to sing, a very unusual thing for him, and sang it through with great joy and devotion. After Mass he gave Communion to several persons, and again went into the confessional. During the day he was, as usual, visited by many people, among them his physician, who told him he had not been in better health for the last ten years. He heard the confessions of Cardinal Frederick Borromeo and some SAINT PHILIP NERI. 639 of the community, and conversed with all with his usual sweetness. Shortly after eleven he retired, laid down in bed, and dismissed all who were with him. At about two o'clock in the morning, Fr. Gallonio hearing him move, went to him and found him coughing vio lently and the blood flowing from his mouth. "Antonio," said the dying Saint, "I'm going now." He then rais ed himself to a sitting position, whilst Fr. Gallonio Hurriedly summoned the doctors and the members of the com munity. "Do not trouble yourselves to apply remedies," Philip said, "for I am dying," and it seemed as if he were only waiting for them all to be present, be fore he passed away. Amid the tears of the assembled com munity Fr. Baronius made the com mendation of his soul to God, then, see ing that his last moments had come, said to him in a loud voice, "Father, are you going to leave us without saying a word to us? Give us, at least, your blessing." Philip, slightly lifted his hand, and opening his eyes raised them towards heaven, and kept them fixed there for some moments; then turning them on his sons, he gently inclined his head towards the kneeling group, and closed them for ever in death. The formal process of his canoniza tion was concluded by Pope Gregory; XV. in 1622, and since then his Congre gation has spread through Italy to other countries, incurring a deep obli gation of love and gratitude from all who have had experience of the happy and cheerful spirit of the good priest, who, in his lifetime, would accept no other name or title than "Father Phil- ip." It is, perhaps, impossible to over-esti mate the importance of the life-long work of this great servant of God. Like St. Charles in Milan, and Savonarola in Florence, his life was one long and suc cessful battle against the influences of. a licentious paganism, which under the various disguises and often high-sound ing titles, was then paralyzing so many limbs of once Christian Europe. St. Philip, to meet and conquer the luxury and vice of his city and time, revived and made popular, amongst the most luxurious classes, the Christian sim plicity of primitive ages; and showed thereby that it is quite possible to use and enjoy the good things of this life, without, on the one hand, seeking the solitude of the cloister, or on the other, becoming besmirched and soiled by the world and the things of the world. POPE LEO XIII BY CHARLES COUPE, S.J. OACHIM VINCENT PECCI was born amid the Volcian Hills, at Carpineto, in the dio- ; cese of Anagni, a town of the .Papal States, on March 2, 1810. He was of noble birth. At the age of eight years Joachim Pecci was sent to school, to the College of the Jesuits at Viterbo. Here he made his First Communion on the feast of St. Aloysius, June 21, 1821. Two years later he was summoned to Rome to attend the death-bed of his mother. He did not return to Viterbo, but entered the Jesuit Collegio Romano. Here he became known as a brilliant scholar and an indefatigable student, first of all in the School of Rhetoric, next in the three years' course of Philosophy, and then in the four years' curriculum of Theology. In 1832 he took his Doctor's degree. But his studies were not yet over. Next he entered the Academy of Noble Ecclesiastics, where for five more years he assiduously read canon and civil law and was trained in every branch of diplomacy. His brLliam gifts, un swerving energy, and strong character attracted the special notice of the "Protector" of the Academy, Cardinal Sala, on whose recommendation Pope Gregory XVI, on March 14, 1837, named Joachim Pecci, at the age of twenty-seven, a Domestic Prelate, a Monsignore, Prebendary of the Signa- 640 tura, and an official of the Congregation of Buongoverno. About this time the young man dis tinguished himself by the nerve he displayed and the self-possession with which he helped combat the virulent outbreak of cholera in Rome. On the last day of 1837 he was ordained priest. A Jesuit student, he said his first mass in the chapel of St. Stanislaus, at the Jesuit noviceship of St. Andrea, Rome — the chapel in which rests the body of the Jesuit saint-boy, who, dying at the age of seventeen, "ran a long race in a short time." Mgr. Pecci's first important appoint ment, two months afterwards, was to be Governor — "Apostolic Delegate'' is the technical term — of the ancient duchy of Benevento, at that time a papal prov ince, but surrounded by Neapolitan territory. Its situation made it a nest of smugglers and bandits, who flourish ed under the protecting wing of the "Camorra,'' composed of many rich and powerful families of the neighborhood. The new Governor quickly took the situation and at once set to work to checkmate these powerful freebooters. A noble marquis, aggrieved at his vigor, one day threatened insolently to go to Rome and denounce him to the Pope. "Be it so," said the Delegate, "but remember that to do so you must pass by the castle of St- Angelo !' ' The nobleman hardly relished this reference POPE LEO XIII BESTOWING HIS BLESSING POPE LEO XIII. 641 ¦to the fortress-prison of Rome, and would have slunk away, but the Gov ernor had him detained, stormed his house, and captured the troop of twenty- eight bandits who garrisoned it. Three Years at Benevento. Pecci was at Benevento three years, from 1838 to 1 84 1. Then he was trans ferred from the governorship of Bene vento to that of Perugia. In 1843 he was made titular Archbishop of Datn- ietta. The same year he was appointed Nuncio at Brussels at the court of Leo pold I, King of the Belgians. The views concerning him of that keen- sighted monarch were thus, after a con versation with the king, set down in a letter from Urban Rattazzi to his wife : "Pecci is notable for his great eleva tion of mind and his entire incorrupti bility. He is a perfect man of the world, but his attachment to the Holy See is extreme. His principles are absolutely fixed. His indomitable, almost fierce, determination, gives proof positive that he is incapable of bending. Assuredly he is one of those priests whom one is forced to admire and honor. As to his ability, his political sense is very keen and his knowledge is even profounder." Trie Belgian Prime Minister was M. Northomb, a "Liberal" Catholic, whose policy was to secularize education. The Nuncio opposed him — firmly, politely, successfully. Mgr. Pecci was esteemed and honored by the Queen, no less than by the King of the Belgians, Louise Marie, whom Mgr. Fornari spoke of as a " real saint," and to whom Queen Victoria the Good, was deeply attached by the most inti mate ties of womanly affection. 41-C F Vol. 2 But the dignity and piety of the youthful Nuncio — he was then only thirty-five — by no means obscured his fearless wit or dulled the edge of his trenchant tongue. The story is told that once at a public dinner a nobleman pulled out his snuff box, on the lid of which was painted a nude and indecent female form, and handing the article to the Nuncio, with a wink at the other guests, asked him what he thought of it. Pecci looked at the curio with a critical air, then handed it back with the remark : "Not bad! Your wife, I suppose?' ' Appointed to See of Perugia. In January, 1846, Joachim Pecci was appointed to the see of Perugia. Gov ernor of Perugia he had been already, he now became its Bishop. Before tak ing possession of his see, however, he came to London and spent the whole of February in the metropolis of that nation which he never ceased to love, esteem and praise. When he returned to Rome, Gregory XVI was dying. On June 1st the Papal Chair was vacant. The Bishop of Perugia saw Pius IX elected Pope. His own hour had not yet come. For two-and-thirty long years — from 1846 till 1878 — from his thirty-sixth to his sixty-eight year, Joachim Pecci labored in the See of Perugia, doing the " good work" of a bishop, according to the mind of St. Paul. From a worldly point of view, this appointment check ed — some would have said "ruined," — his career. The nunciatures were henceforth closed to him, the promise of his brilliant youth seemed to have faded away. For decades of years he was lost to the world amid the obscurity of his 642 POPE LEO XIII. Umbrian diocese. That at least is what men said about him. But man's ways are not God's ways, nor man's thoughts God's thoughts. Like his Divine Mas ter during His thirty years of prepara tion, Joachim Pecci was being silently prepared for the great work which God had given him to do — the greatest to which man on earth can set his hand. A Model Prelate. The Bishop of Perugia was a model prelate. No life of ease was his. He ruled his diocese with a gentle but firm hand. He promoted orphanages, hospi tals, asylums, homes. He became fam ous as a road-maker. As a builder of churches his energy was astounding. His own beautiful cathedral he care fully restored. Thirty -six new church es he constructed within his diocese. In education he was in the forefront of the strife. He pushed on the organiza tion of elementary, secondary and high er education. He improved the studies of the clergy. In perfect touch himself with modern thought, he urged on the training of the priesthood in psychology, chemis try, geology and other natural sciences, as well as in diplomatic history, and chronology. A distinguished philoso pher and theologian himself, he insisted with his clergy on a deep and earnest study of philosophy and theology. He was never idle. The germs of most of the great ideas which he afterwards ex panded and published to the world in his many Papal Encyclicals, may be found in the words and acts of the Bishop of Perugia. On December 19, 1853, he was made a Cardinal, and twenty-three years later, in 1876, Joachim Pecci's good work in his Umbrian see was fin ished, and he was summoned to another and a wider sphere of action. In November, 1876, Pius IX sum moned Pecci to Rome to fill the exalted post of Cardinal Camerlengo, in succes sion to Cardinal de Angelis, a position of the highest dignity and influence. On February 7, 1878, Victor Emmanuel, the usurper of Rome, died. Not a month after, his victim, the venerable Pius IX, worn out with anxiety and persecution, went to his reward. On February 18, 1878, the Conclave, con. sisting of sixty-two cardinals, met in the Vatican. Two-thirds of the votes are requisite for election. Elected to Chair of St. Peter. On the second day forty-four votes were cast for Cardinal Pecci, and half an hour later the aged Cardinal Deacon, Cardinal Caterini, from the famous window in the great loggia of St. Peter's, in the time honored formula, declared his election to the dense crowds in the Piazza below : "I announce to you tidings of great joy. We have for Pope, His Eminence the Most Reverend Lord Joachim Pecci, who has taken unto himself the name of Leo the Thirteenth." What were the thoughts of the new Pope, the 263rd of his hoary line, as he gave his first pontifical blessing, uUrbi et Orbi," not from the window looking on the piazza, but from the window of the loggia opening upon the interior of St. Peter's ! The place chosen was an indication that the Pope, the Sovereign of Rome, was a prisoner in his own city. It was also a wager of truceless war with the Italian usurper, and with the Revolution of which that usurper was the puppet. POPE LEO XIII. 643 What were the new Pope's thoughts? The thoughts of his enemies we know. Those enemies were intoxicat ed with triumph. To them it was evi dent that the end of the Papacy had come. False Prophecies. A goodly volume might, indeed, be compiled from the columns even of the English Press of unfulfiled prophecies concerning the Catholic Church. Over and over again she has been said to have finally and inevitably alienated from herself the respect and esteem of every honest and right-thinking man. Oftener than we can count she has quitted the winning and identified her self with the losing side. Again and again she has broken with all that is modern, progressive, enduring, up to date. She has proved herself effete, antiquated, obsolete. Except among the senile races of mankind, whose day is over, and whose final disappearance is a mere question of time, she has for feited her place and power. She is ruled by an aged Pope, and administered by a college of ancient cardinals, whose learning is mediaeval, whose ideas are old-world, whose ways are out of fashion, and their lives out of touch with the vitality and energy of modern existence. Many and many a time she has tottered to her absolutely final ruin. In fact she has taken every false step and fallen into every foolish error which it was possible for a misguided Church to takeand fall into, and if she has not yet actually flickered out of life, her ultimate extinction must be near at hand. Such were the forecasts of seers in whom the wish was possibly father to the thought. Another prophet, how ever, and he a non-Catholic, has confes sed that, for his part, he saw no sign to indicate that the term of her long dominion is approaching ; that, as she has seen the commencement of all the Governments and all of the ecclesiastical establishments which now exist in the world, he felt no assurance that she is not destined to see the end of them all ; nay, that she may exist in undiminished vigor when — our coalpits worked out, our factories silent, our railroads grass- grown, the docks, which in deep-graven letters spell our prosperity, crumbling into ruin — some casual visitor from a foreign shore should from a broken arch* of London Bridge sketch the ruins of St. Paul's. Like the hanging tower of Pisa the Church for two thousand years has seemed ever falling, and yet has not fallen. True Mission of the Church. The thoughts of Leo XIII must often have revolved memories such as these. To him the Roman Church was not, as to the false prophets of failure, the creation of human hands, otherwise she must long centuries ago have been dead, buried, and forgotton. To him she was the creation of God, her foundation on the Rock, her destiny to endure till the end of all things. To him she stood out in the world as the pillar and ground of the Truth. It is that convic tion which explained Pope Leo's attitude towards the nations. In the volumes of his Acta, and in his subsequent allocu tions, letters, and constitutions he never once even remotely hinted that the Church was perhaps fated to fail. In all his public utterances Leo XIII spoke clarion-tongued, like one who 644 POPE LEO XIII. feared ruin, not for himself, but for the Christian nations who were his spiritual fold ; like one who warned, and not like one who wavered. This conviction of the Church's safety was, indeed, the keynote of the Pope's life. To him her ultimate triumph was certain. Her present miseries he, indeed, recognized, and all through his writings there runs a cor responding vein of sadness. But there runs also a characteristic tone of confi dence. The barque of Peter has been storm-tossed before, and yet the billows have never overwhelmed it. In the sixth century, under Gregory the Great, the Christian world seemed to be in its death-throes ; the East was overrun with Nestorianism and Eutychianism ; Spain and Lombardy were a prey to Arianism ; Britain had fallen back into barbarism ; Rome itself was plague- stricken and her foes were thundering at the city gates. The Crescent and the Cross. Again, in the eighth century, under Leo III, the Crescent had supplanted the Cross in the East, in North Africa, in Spain ; it overshadowed the Pa triarchates of Jerusalem and Antioch and Alexandria ; it dominated five hun dred African Sees ; it floated over the Churches of Optatus and Cyprian and Augustine ; Rome itself was rent with hostile factions ; the Pope lay at the mercy of his enemies. Again in the eleventh century, under Gregory VII, the Eastern Church had revolted from her allegiance, and was cruelly perse cuting the Catholics ; in the West, princes were corrupt and prelates world ly. To use the Pope's own words, "The Romans, Lombards, and Normans were worse than Jews and Pagans." Lastly, in the sixteenth century, Constantinople was Mohammedan, and St. Sophia had become a mosque; England had turned Calvinist, and Germany Lutheran ; Rome was carried by storm, and for nine months was ruthlessly sacked and in part destroyed. These four tempests that threatened to overwhelm the Church Leo XIII for got not ; but he also remembered that the Church had survived them all, and his whole attitude showed that he believed she would outlive her present disasters. And if we compare the year of his accession with the year of his death — if we compare 1878 with 1903 — it is plain that the Catholic Church is incomparably stronger now than she was then. Nefarious Work of Revolution. The Revolution seemed then to have gained a supreme and final victory over the Roman Church. It had cast down the throne of the Pope's temporal sovereignty, after that throne had endured for eleven hundted years and more. It had plundered monasteries and sacked convents and despoiled cathedrals and suppressed sees, and beggared and banished religious of both sexes, and closed schools and turned col leges into barracks. Pope Leo XIII it confined within the precincts of his pal ace a prisoner. From the day when Joachim Pecci entered the Conclave in the Vatican, a Cardinal, to the day when Leo XIII, Pope, breathed his last breath in the Vatican — from February 18, 1878, to July 20, 1903— the Prisoner Prince never once quitted the precincts of his palace. That Church which, as Bishop of Rome, was peculiarly his own, he POPE LEO XIII. 645 never once felt free to visit — the Lateran Basilica of Constantine. Yet, prisoner as he was, never has a Pope wielded a more extensive moral power than Leo XIII- A Prisoner in His Palace. Yes, Leo XIII was alone in the Vatican, without a friend among the Governments of the world, without territory, without treasure, without an army, without power, without a voice in the senate of nations, a prisoner in his own palace, begirt by the troops of a hostile king. The outward trappings of visible sovereignty were, indeed, gone. Nevertheless, his invisible sovereignty was, perhaps, never stronger than then. The Universal Church, which he ruled as Supreme Bishop, not only lives, she grows and flourishes. While the out lines of other ecclesiastical establish ments, born but yesterday as compared with her, are day by day growing dimmer and less distinguishable, she stands out distinct as ever, clear-cut as Mont Blanc seen at night against a background of lightning-lit cloud. She is, perhaps, less powerful than heretofore among the less progressive nations of the world, but she grows lustier than ever among the nations to whom the whole earth seems as a future inheritance. Her strength has waned in the politically disturbed South American Republics ; it waxes daily, in spite of much hostility, in England and the United States, in Germany, and the Colonies. Now that Leo XIII has gone, and we can make up his account, no one can deny that, with all the forces of the world against him, he fought the good fight well, and drew tighter the bonds of respect and love and obedience which knit the Roman Church into one harmonious whole, its world-wide unity never more absolute, its purity never more apparent, its authority never more loyally recognized. Leo XIII was a profound and elegant scholar, and ever aimed at promoting scholarship in others. There is a false impression abroad that the Roman Church is adverse to learning and research. On the contrary, Leo XIII continually and consistently taught that there is a harmony of faith and reason, of religion and civilization, and that both, when duly cultivated, grow together, liks flower and fruit, from the one root of Christianity. He threw open the Vatican library for general study, added thirty thousand volumes as a reference library, and urged scholars to explore the rich mine of historical lore there stored up. When to this arrangement it was objected that incon venient facts might come to light, the fearless Pope replied that truth could never damage the Church ; and he expressly encouraged the critical writing of history. A Patron of the Liberal Arts. The Codex Vaticanus, the oldest biblical MS., he had phototyped ; the Regesta Pontificum given to the world ; and a school of palaeography established in the Vatican. The Pope himself was proficient in science. In the Gregorian University, in competition with such scientists as Pianciani and Andrea Carafa, the youthful Pecci came out first prizeman in physics and chemistry, and took high honors in mathematics. As Pope, therefore, he always gave science his special support. He estab lished an astronomical observatory in 646 POPE LEO XIII. the Vatican. To Dr. Lefevre, the Louvain Professor, his Holiness said > ' ' Tell the Louvain men to have no fear of Science, for God is the author of all science. ' ' Christianity and Science. And in answer to the question as to whether the Syllabus does not condemn science and civilization he replied ; ' 'No, it does not condemn true civilization — that, I mean, by which man perfects himself. But it does condemn that false civilization which would supplant Christianity, and destroy with it al] wherewith Christianity has enriched the world." It was in pursuance of the same enlightened policy that the Pope drew up for the Vatican Observatory a new set of regulations calculated to bring it in closer touch with astronomers in all parts of the world. Leo XIII was, too, a warm patron of literature, " that palladium of all true- hearted nations.'' In the Pontifical Seminary at Rome he made a rule that the students, after the completion of their philosophical and theological course of seven years, should devote a whole year exclusively to literature. Nay, to promote the study of Latin and Greek and modern languages, th^ Pope has done something more than write and make regulations. He subscribed every year $20,000 to the schools of Rome. Leo himself was a litterateur of no mean order. The elegant Latinity of his Encyclicals and the Horatian ring of his verses have been widely appreci ated. On this subject the London Times wrote, July 21, 1903, that "the Pope united a genuine love of history and of some of the lighter forms of letters. His skill and taste in the composition of Latin verses were essen tially Italian. The lines which flowed from his pen were not seldom defective from the point of view of pure scholar ship, but, like the Latin writings of the best Italian poets of the Renaissance, they were instinct with the grace and flexibility which only those who have been trained from childhood to think in Latin can command. They were not distinguished by any high degree of inspiration, but they expressed, with elegance, and in a strain of true poetic feeling, the refined musings of a culti vated and accomplished gentleman." Beautifies the Vatican. Nor was the great Pope forgetful of art. Under his direction the apse of the Basilica of St. John Lateran was completed. The "Camera dei Para- menti ' ' in the Vatican was hung with precious Gobelins and other tapestries which he rescued from lumber-rooms. He executed extensive works in the "Gallery of the Candelabra." He restored the "Borgia Chambers," and threw them open to the public ; and in these rooms he so carefully restored a series of frescoes by Pinturicchio that the result has been enormously to enhance the fame of that artist as a decorative painter. The wall paintings illustrative of the Path of the Saints and the Liberal Arts, adorning the "Hall of Mysteries," are now admitted to be among the finest specimens of this class of work in Europe. But Leo XIII's most wide-reaching reform in the intellectual sphere took place in the realm of philosophy. Two huge evils had ever troubled his soul ; one the estrangement of civil society POPE LEO XIII. 647 from the Church, the other the aliena tion of man's intellect from the obedi ence of faith ; and these evils he believed could be cured only by a sounder philosophy. The fundamental errors which are now jeopardizing the stability of society the Pope held to be philoso phical rather than theological, and therefore he strove in the famous encyclical "^Eterni Patris" to reinstate Christian philosophy by making the works of St. Thomas Aquinas the basis of University study and teaching. Restoration of Scholasticism. Scholasticism has indeed an ill sound in non-Catholic England and America, but only because it is neither read nor understood. With all respect for the competent authority of Dr. Cobham Brewer and the Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, the philosophy of the "Angelic Doctor" is not summed up in the question as to how many angels can dance on the point of a needle ! The object of Leo XIII in this restoration of Scholasticism was not to arm Catho lic controversialists with keen weapons of war against Protestantism, but to expound and defend the whole structure of revealed truth against the materialism of a godless age. His purpose was to defend, not Catholicity only, but Christianity also. Not unnaturally this encyclical, on its first appearance, was hotly attacked, as an attempt to flood the world with obsolete mediaeval- ism and to fetter the mind with an unprogressiveness. But Leo XIII knew better. He saw well enough that cobweb-spinning Idealism on the one hand and coarse Materialism on the other were sapping the very foundations of Christianity by the spirit of unbelief which they of necessity engendered. As the London Times, July 2i, 1903, well said, this reversion to Thomistic Aristotelianism in place of "the new-fangled theories and adaptations of the last century" constitutes " even more than his diplo matic activity and his individual teach ing, the most profound and the most enduring influence exercised by the great Pope over the future of the Roman Church and over the mind of the whole Catholic world. When we turn from his more private work to the late Pope's public and political action, we are surprised at the enormous scope and variety of the work, which the Holy Father executed. On the very first page of the Index Analyti- cus of a volume of his Acta we find a long letter to the Archbishop of Dublin on Irish affairs, another to the Emperor of Germany on social questions, a brief for the foundation of an Armenian college, and an instruction to Cardinal Hergenroether on historical studies. Dissertations on Current Topics. As we turn over these interesting pages we meet with letters, briefs, allocutions, and other Papal utterances on such a variety of subjects as Social ism, Freemasonry, the foundation of a university in the United States, the rights of labor, the re-discovery of the bodies of St. James of Compostella and his two companions, St. Athanasius and St. Theodore ; on liberty, on Scripture, on the re-erection of the archiepiscopal see of Carthage ! There is a letter to the Emperor of China on liberty for Christians, a letter to Bismarck, a letter to the King of Portugal, and a docu ment on the Syro-Malabar rites ! 648 POPE LEO XIII. One may well ask how Leo XIII managed to get through all this work, and, more surprising still, how he found time for the recreation of verse-making, in which, as we know, he sought relax ation from severer engagements. This was his day : He rose at six, made a meditation, said Mass, spent a period in prayer and praise, and then took break fast — a roll and a cup of black coffee. At eight he gave an audience to the Cardinal Secretary of State and after wards to the Cardinal Secretary of Ecclesiastical Affairs. Then to the various "congregations" of cardinals, each of which had its appointed day. These councils occupied the whole morn ing till dinner time — one o'clock. That meal lasted half an hour. Then the Pope took the air, read the bishops' reports, and discussed the dispatches from the Nunciatures. Times of Meditation. Towards four o'clock he gave public and private audiences, and the evenings were devoted to the reception of bish ops, who were paying their visits ad limina. After this the Pope gained the solitude of his private chamber, and then only had he leisure for study and writing. It was during these hours of darkness and solitude that Leo XIII thought out and composed in his own keen yet graceful style those many utterances which proved him a ruler, a statesman, a diplomatist, an administra tor, and a scholar ; which displayed his conciliatory bearing towards foreign Governments ; which won him respect both from friend and foe for the nobil ity and simplicity of his personal character. From his prison in the Vatican, during the quarter of a century of his Pontifi cate, Leo XIII was issuing weighty decrees, which, from end to end of the earth, have been received by Catholics with gratitude and ready obedience, and by non-Catholics with respect and grave consideration. These decrees have extended over a wide range of faith and morals. But in a special manner they have insisted on the relative positions which the spiritual and civil powers ought to occupy respectively to each other. Most of all did the late Pope repeat again and again that all power is from God, and that, consequently, to deny God is to deny the very basis of civil society. The School of Reverence. It was a saying of Guizot that the Roman Church is the greatest school of reverence that ever existed, and Pope Leo ever insisted on that truth. Five wounds he put his finger on in the body politic — wounds which are the necessary result of a denial of the supernatural. The first is war, which the revolution ary spirit has declared against every form of government, from the autocracy of Russia to the democracy of America. Leo XIII utterly denied the fundamen tal Socialistic contention that, because men are in the abstract alike in kind and in nature, therefore no social or economic distinctions are to be recog nized in the concrete and in the ordina ry business of life. The second wound is the denial of the indissolubility of Christian marriage which is the basis of family life and the foundation of Christian civilization. God is sovereign, and has commanded that man shall not put asunder those whom He has joined together. The POPE LEO XIII. 649 third wound is the denial of the rights of property by unbelievers, who, hopeless of the rewards of a future life, have, logically enough, resolved to seize a share in the good things of the present life. The fourth wound is the struggle of the governed against the authority that governs. The Pope emphatically denies that every man is his own master, and is amenable to the authority of another only in so far as he himself wills ; that each man may think as he pleases and do what he likes; that no man has any right of command over another. Science and Philosophy. This the late Pope taught, is license not liberty. Power and authority are from God, and rulers are something more than the delegates of the people's will. The fifth wound is a false philosophy, by which he meant a wrong and unscientific use of reason — Idealism on the one hand, Materialism on the other; the latter denying the existence of the soul and God, the former denying the existence of body and the possibility of knowing God. The Holy Father insisted on it that the modern world needs, but does not possess, a philoso phical system which has "an equal regard for the rules of faith and for the dignity of all human knowledge." Leo XIII willed to close this last and deepest wound by a loyal return to scholastic philosophy, modernized in language, of course, and adapted in set ting to the requirements of the present day. As Scholasticism adapted Aristo- telianism to the needs of the Middle Ages, so the modern spirit can adapt Scholasticism to the needs of modern times. In his much discussed Encyclical on Labor the late Pope expressed his sym pathy with the working classes, and pleaded for an amelioration of their lot, that by despair they might not be driv en into Socialism. In his decree Leo sternly sets his face against the capital ists who grind the face of the worker, who regard the laborer as a mere money - making machine, and consider themselves at liberty to drive the hard est bargains with them. The Socialis tic theory that the masses are the nat ural enemies of the classes, and that capitalist and laborer must live in per petual conflict, he would not hear of. Capital and labor are mutually neces» sary, and differences are to be settled by the precepts of the gospel. Advocates Social Improvement. The workman is to work well and willingly ; the capitalist is to treat the workman as a brother man, and not as a bondman. And, therefore, while Leo XIII was utterly hostile to down right Socialism on the one hand, he was not less hostile to the bald Liberal ism of the Manchester school on the other. In consequence, he argued for prudent State legislation in the regula tion of labor and wages, and admonish ed the State that its duty is to safe guard the interests of the working population. For progress is better than Socialistic violence and reform is better than revolution. Glancing at the great Pope's work from another point of view, we find him erecting a new hierarchy in Scotland, in Japan, in India, in Bosnia, and Herzegovina. He set on foot a Euch- aristic Congress at Jerusalem, with a view to a conference between the East- 650 POPE LEO XIII. ern and Western Churches. We find him in most friendly communication with the Sublime Porte, and the Sultan officially confirms the Pope's appoint ment of Mgr. Abolionau to the Patri archate of Babylon. By his tact he put an end to the Armenian schism, which was a Turkish reproduction of German ' ' Old Catholicism " ; he founded a national college in Rome for the Armen ians; he created the Patriarch Mgr. Kassun a Cardinal, and summoned him to live in Rome. We find him again in personal and friendly correspondence with the Shah of Persia, with the Court of Pekin, with the Emperor of Japan, with the King of the Shoa Gallas, (in Abyssinia). Amicable Relations. In the Holy Father's relations with England it it a pleasure to recall the courtesies exchanged between him and Queen Victoria on the occasion of their respective Jubilees. Nor is the public likely to forget Leo's Apostolic Letter to " the illustrious English nation, " in which he gave eloquent expression to his cordial affection for the British nation. In that letter there was not a phrase that could annoy, little of the spirit of dogma, nothing of the spirit of aggressiveness. Nor was it even a direct summons to the English to re enter the Roman fold and renew their spiritual allegiance to the Roman See, but rather an impassioned appeal that all would join in humble prayer to know God's will so that once again Christen dom might be united in that one faith which it was his desire that the nations should profess. This letter was cordi ally received in England. There will always, perhaps, be some Protestant to whom, regardless of gen der, the Pope is ever " the Scarlet Wo man " and the ill-famed female of Babylon. But the cordial tone of the Archbishop of Canterbury's reply made it evident that English opinion has vastly changed since the name of Pius IX was hooted on every English plat form, and Cardinal Wiseman, when about to lecture in the Liverpool Phil harmonic Hall, was stoned in the pub lic streets by an English mob. Gentleness Victorious. In Germany the tact and gentleness of Pope Leo won him his first great victory. He clashed in the lists and unhorsed that sternest advocate and most unscrupulous employer of brute force, Prince Bismarck. The Kultur- kampf was a duel between Church and State, and resulted, as every struggle to fetter the personal conscience must re sult, in a victory for the oppressed. The Emperor William I, and his "Iron Chancellor" were led by Leo XIII to see that the worst foes of social order in the new empire were not the twenty millions of Catholics whose re ligious principles required them to be law-abiding, and that the dogma of Pa pal infallibility which inculcated the doctrine of authority was not the bug bear represented by Dollinger, and con tained nothing adverse to the rights of civil government. That much-abused dogma taught no doubt that an infallible Bible requires a living and infallible voice both to guarantee and to interpret it ; but how that can be an attack on secular power it is not easy to see. The expulsion of religious orders ; the imprisonment of archbishops, bishops, and priests; the POPE LEO XIII. 651 depriving in a single diocese of a hun dred parishes of their pastors ; the closing of episcopal colleges and the forcing of young ecclesiastics into State Universities ; the attempt to withdraw German Catholics from their allegiance to the Vatican, and to put them wholly under secular control — that, as Leo XIII showed, was not the way to in crease respect for authority, to safeguard a new-made empire, to shelter its ruler from murderous attack, and to prevent the whole fabric of German society from collapsing under the blows of dis contented labor. Germany and the Vatican. Bismarck had said, ' 'Whatever we do, we shall not go to Canossa, ( that is, to such penance as was demanded of Henry IV.") Such a literal humiliation was, indeed, not asked of him, but the Chancellor was led by the tactful Pope to acknowledge and repair his mistake. The Falk Ministry was defeated, and the Kultur-kampf ended in smoke. The good feeling which thus arose between Germany and the Vatican was further cemented when Pope Leo was chosen by the Protestant Emperor and his Protestant Chancellor to be arbiter between Spain and Germany in the an gry dispute about the Caroline Islands; and the remarkably prompt decision of the Papal tribunal, so often appealed to in past ages by nations and their rulers, set the quarrel at rest by a verdict which proved equally acceptable to both the contending parties. With William III, too, Leo XIII was on terms not merely of political amity, but of personal friendship. Twice the Emperor visited the Prisoner Prince of the Vatican, made him rich presents and spoke of him with unvarying re spect ; and when Leo died, the Emperor cut short his sea-trip and spoke of the Pope as " my personal friend." In France Leo XIII achieved less success not from insufficiency of cause, but from insufficiency of effect. He failed, but it was France's fault not his. For with France he displayed in his dealings not less enlightenment than with other nations. The rulers of the Republic, by the Education Law, the Military Law, and various other tyran nical enactments, had made an open and avowed attack on Christianity — on Christian education, on the training of the Christian clergy, or the religious beliefs of the great majority of that Christian nation. The very mention of God was banned from the schools, can didates for the priesthood were com pelled to serve in the barrack-room, the Christian religion was grossly in sulted — not merely Catholicity, but Christianity ! The creedless rulers of France were intent on the work of supplanting Christianity by Atheism. Republicanism in France. No wonder, therefore, that the French clergy, at home and abroad, and a large section of the French nation, had come to regard the Republic as their bitterest enemy. Yet here again the prudent Pope intervened. He decreed that Repub licanism had become the de facto form of government, and therefore should be loyally obeyed. Leo XIII distinguish ed between the Republic and the men who carry on the Republic, and while he protested against the outrageous tyranny of the latter, he generously recognized the validity of the former. He willed that Catholics should cordially obey the Re- 652 POPE LEO XIII. public, lest Republicans should confound Catholicity with monarchism. The Catholic Church is bound up with no particular form of government. She flour ishes not less vigorously in republican America than in monarchical Belgium or imperial Austria. Exhortation for Church Loyalty. The Pope earnestly exhorted French men not to subordinate the interests of the Church to the struggles of political parties, but to forget their differences, to combine on constitutional lines, and to force by the ballot-box what they will never attain by discussion. That, surely, was temperate and wise advice. Had the French Government accepted and acted on it, France might have become by this time the most united, the most opulent, and the most powerful of nations. On the acceptance and resolute execution of Leo's advice the future of France depend ed. But the bitter anti-Christian rulers of France have thrown that advice to the winds, and now France is a house divided against itself, ready for ruin! That is the fault and folly of un-Christian Frenchmen, not the want of foresight of Leo XIII. But anxious as Leo XIII ever showed himself to cultivate peace and amity with foreign sovereigns, there was one tremendous exception. With the king dom of Italy, as such, he would have no friendship. There his attitude was stern ly uncompromising. There he uttered an unfaltering non possumus. Pope Leo demanded, and in conscience was bound to demand, such a position as should subject him to no power which could trammel his action, and should leave him in possession of true and real free dom for the due goverance of the Church. In the first year of his pontificate, Leo XIII put down his foot with unmistak able decision, and never for a moment did he withdraw it : "In the first place, that we may assert to the best of our power the rights and liberty of this Holy See, we shall never cease to con tend for the obedience due to our au thority, for the removal of the obstacles which hinder the full liberty of our ministry, and for our restoration to that condition in which the counsels of the Divine Wisdom first placed the Roman bishops. We are not moved to demand this restoration by ambition or the de sire of dominion, but by our office and by the religious oaths which bind us, and because this principality is 'neces sary to preserve the full liberty of the spiritual power, and because it is clear that the cause of the public good and the safety of society are involved. Protests Against Restrictions. Hence we cannot omit — because of our office, by which we are bound to defend the rights of Holy Church — to renew and confirm by these our letters all the declarations and protests which Pius IX published and reiterated against the occupation of his civil prin cipality and against the violation of the rights of the Roman Church." It will of course be objected that Pope Leo's freedom of action was sufficiently safe guarded by the Italian Law of Guaran tees. But the Law of Guarantees might at any time become a party cry. The Law of Guarantees might be unmade by the same power that made it, just as it has again and again been violated by the same power that promised to ob serve it. Certainly the wholesale spoliations in POPE LEO XIII. 653 Rome, the seizure of foreign mission property abroad, the brutal insults offer ed to the dead body of Pius IX, and the repeated indignities heaped upon Pope Leo himself, afford no hope that the Italian Government would not repeal the Law of Guarantees to-morrow if it dared. If it dared ! For the consensus of the world is at present against that further act of spoilation, and so, perforce, the Revolution holds its hand. Certain English organs might do well to re member that the plunder of the Papal Temporalities was an act of brigandage which, in face of the continual protest of the Roman See, can never be made valid by proscription ; and their own fe verish exhortations to the Pope to recog nize the. fait accompli (accomplished fact) and to give to the usurper the title deeds of the Papal territories which he has seized vi et armis (by force of arms) can have no other consequence but to prove to the world that in those Protestant writers the wish is father to the thought. The Great Papal Jubilee. Their suggestion is as unstatesman- like as it is unjust; as impolitic as it is impossible. Leo XIII retorted, in effect, " Do you, too, recognize the fait accom pli? The Pope does not, and will never yield." At the Papal Jubilee, on Feb ruary 19, 1893, eighty thousand people, of every nation under the sun, assembled on or around St. Peter's. When the en thusiastic cries of this vast multitude " Viva UPapa Re I " thundered through the mighty Basilica, surely some suspi cion must have crept into the minds of the Italian Ministers that it is suicidal folly for them to maintain in Rome a ri val and usurped Sovereignty against a Power that utterly overshadows that Sovereignty — a Power whose origin is all but lost in the mists of antiquity — a Power whose spiritual rule radiates beyond the Peninsula, beyond the Adri atic, beyond the Mediterranean, into the most distant countries of North and South, of East and West. Unjust Opposition of Italy. For Italy to persevere in her hostility to the Holy See means for her certain ruin. Nine times before has the Roman Pontiff been deprived of Rome, and nine times he has regained it. And again he will regain it. As things stand, the kingdom of Italy cannot live. With a disunited people on the one hand, and sheer bankruptcy on the other, she can hardly last long. But it is easy for her to work out her own salvation. The rem edy is in her own hands. Both justice and expediency are clamoring for the application of that remedy — the restor ation of the Pope to his Temporal Power. It has been said by the Protestant Eu ropean Press that Pope Leo's uncom promising attitude to the usurper was the one blot in his otherwise brilliant career. It was no blot. The Moral Law did not permit him to act other wise. The brave and unswerving adhe sion of the old and feeble Prisoner. Prince of the Vatican to principle, where submission to a present expe diency would have been easy and pleas ant, is the brightest ray in the halo that crowns his brow. On July 20 th the solemn end came. After ninety-three years of life and of labor, in the sixty -sixth year of his Priesthood, in the sixtieth of his Epis copate, in the fiftieth of his Cardinalate, in the twenty-fifth of his Sovereign Pon tificate, Joachim Pecci, Pope Leo XIII, 654 POPE LEO XILt died. And nine days later, amid the solemn dirges of the Catholic world which he had ruled so long and so il lustriously, amid the earnest encomiums of the non-Catholic world which he had striven so cordially and so tactfully to conciliate, the great Pontiff was laid to rest. How the world wept for him! How heartily men praised him ! In a long and generous memoir, and in a graceful and sympathetic leading arti cle, the London Times newspaper voiced the sentiments of the Anglo-Saxon na tions, whose "seriousness, frankness and sense of fair -play " the great Pope had learned to admire and respect. Tributes of Sorrow. The Times spoke of " the deep and real interest and sorrow which the death of Pope Leo XIII has caused among all sorts and conditions of men in this strongly Protestant Empire. We re cognize that in Leo XIII there has passed away a personality of singular dignity and elevation. In every civil ized land, men, whose views of religious and of social questions differ profoundly from the doctrines he inherited and taught, will join his spiritual children in mourning with unfeigned sorrow the bereavement which has befallen the Roman Catholic Church. In the exalt ed and singularly difficult station which he has filled for more than five-and- twenty eventful years, he has so borne himself as to command the respectful admiration of all good men. Pope Leo had many sorrows and many disap pointments. But perhaps the best proof of the real greatness, as of the real good ness, of the man is that they neither broke his courage nor soured his heart. He did not shut his eyes to the ten dencies of the time, or to the many points in which they threaten the fun damental doctrines of his creed. But never doubting that the cause of his Church was the cause of truth, and that truth in the end must prevail, he never suffered the bitterness of the present to overcloud his serene confidence in the moral victories and triumphs of the next age. He faced the evil days of his Pontificate with a royal courage, and with a largeness and gentleness of heart befitting his sacred calling. ' ' Leo Pater Omnium Credentium. {The tribute of an" Outsider" to Leo XIII.) I,eo the Good! Thus have we learned his name ; And thus shall future ages vaunt his fame. A Rock unmoved 'midst fortune's brawling stream ! Heart undismayed I As in the old Greek's dream, " The Lion bore with stern enduring soul Things unendurable" — nor lost control. Strong, firm, unbending, in his Church'8 cause, Guardian implacable of Christian laws, Yet keen in pity for the poor and weak. Undaunted, swift in Right's behalf to speak — Deeming the whole world's woes within his ken. A man of boundless charity to men, Whose hands, 'midst direst insult and distress, Were never raised to ban, but aye to bless. God rest his soul ! for we outside the gate, Whose lot must needs be but to watch and wait, Marked, in the course of each completed year, How, more and more, this blessed truth grew clear : — Christ gave to Peter— so His own words tell — "The Keys of Heaven"— not "Keys of Death and Hell." POPE LEO XIII. 655 In Memoriam Leonis Decimi Tertii {From "Punch") There in the hushed Cathedral's holy calm, Dim lights about him, and the dome above, He sleeps— immortal by the spirit-balm Of universal love; Still over lips and brow where life has passed Lingers the smile of faith serenely fair ; The hands that blessed the world are folded fast As in the act of prayer. The long day closes and the strife is dumb. Thither he goes where temporal loss is gain, Where he that asks to enter must become A little child again. And since in perfect humbleness of heart He sought his Church's honor, not his own, All faiths are one to share the mourner's part Beside the empty throne. High Guardian of the mysteries of God, His circling love enwrapped the human race. For every creed the Pontiff's lifted rod Blossomed with flowers of grace. The nation's peace he had for dearest cause ; Kings from his counsel caught a starry sign; Christlike he fostered loyalty to laws, These earthly, those divine ; So shall the heart of grief not soon be cold, There least, where loyal tributes crown the way Of Ireland's King whose hand, as friends may hold, He held but yesterday. Threnody over Leo XUI. {From "John Bull.") It is finished — the cup of pain ! It is over — the righteous reign ! Rome's prisoner is enlarged again. Close his eyes ! now vacant quite, That in ours, with benison bright Poured but now their last love-light. The hands that his beloved ones blessed, So late— Oh, cross them on his breast ; For through the Cross he has found his rest. This was he, the Noble's son, Who, ere his youthful race was run, Learning's laurels all had won, But held that token of the dove, The spirit's olive branch of Love, Learning's laurel far above. Yet this was he whose Christian sword, In fiery service for his Lord, Broke Perugia's bandit horde. Then he passed, a Legate, forth Among the Nations of the North And added wisdom to his worth, Noting with pungent Pastoral pen, Each cause that binds or breaks again The social hierarchy of men. Who next, caught back to Italia's clime. Endured, obscured, a trial time That but made sweet not soured his prime. Neglect surceased and favor came With crescent honors, until his name Went foith on wings of wildest fame. Till, gathered o'er all lands and seas, His Church's Great Ones on their knees Gave him the Triple Crown and Keys. And risen to the stature rare, That may alone their burthen bear, He ruled with Christ-like strength and care. Yet through the stormy years, because He deemed it owing to God's laws, His Palace still a Prison was, Wherefrom, as erst from fettered Paul, His Peace went forth, till well-nigh all His children heard and owned his call. But on his dying slumber see ! What light has stricken suddenly ? His chains fall from him — he is free ! And lo ! the Angel with the sword, Past Earth's utmost watch and ward, Leads and leads him to his Lord. Alfred Percivai. Graves. LIFE OF POPE PIUS X. OPE PIUS X. was born in Riese, diocese of Treviso, June 2, 1835, and is the seventh who has come from the region of Venice, among whom was Benedict XII, who also came from Treviso, and elected Pope over 600 years ago. Guiseppe Sarto, as the Pope was then known, was educated at the Salosian In stitute at Cottolongo, founded by the famous Dom Bosco, and later of the Sacra Theologia in Rome. From the very commencement of his education he became noted as a student, and his seri ousness was proverbial among his asso ciates. His rector said of him upon one occa sion that Sarto had never been a child. He was a profound thinker when only a youthful student, and the habits of thought and study then formed have con tinued with him all his life. Pius X was only twenty-three years old when he was consecrated a priest at Castel Franco, the birthplace of the great master Giorgione, acting afterward for nine years as coadjutor to the parish priest of Tombolo, Providence of Padua. His kindness was untiring. He sought to fill the wants of his people and never murmured when he was called in the middle of a winter night to a deathbed which proved to be nothing of the kind. He gave freely of his very small means, until he often went without meals him self, but he assisted many a poor family. 656 In 1 867 he was appointed parish priest at Salzano, which was considered an im portant promotion, though he was ex ceedingly sorry to leave Tombolo, hav ing become attached to the people. The peasants, whom he left, made a most en thusiastic demonstration, crying, "Viva, Don Guiseppe," while many women, whose children he had nursed, wept co piously. He distinguished himself so much at Salzano that he was kept there only two years, which is remarkable in the career of an Italian parish priest. In 1875 he was elected chancellor of the bishopric of Treviso, then spiritual director of that seminary, judge of the ecclesiastical tribunal, and finally vicar general. Pope Leo, who had highly appreciated his cleverness, piety and modesty, ap pointed him in November, 1884, at the age of forty-nine years, bishop of Man tua, where he remained nine years, until 1893, when he was made a cardinal and appointed patriarch of Venice. He there distinguished himself as a thor ough reformer, suppressing all abuses, restoring the dignity of the clergy and the earnestness of religion. To him is due the revival of the Gregorian chant in the churches and the strict return to liturgic rule. From his appointment arose heated polemics between the Holy See and the Italian government. The latter, as heir to the ancient privileges granted by the Pope to the republic of Venice, main- POPE PIUS X. LIFE OF POPE PIUS X. 657 tained that it had the right to choose and appoint the patriarch. The govern ment, after having long refused its exe quatur, eventually granted it to Sarto, who meanwhile gained general esteem, including that of the government offi cers. The Italian Cabinet had no feel ing against Sarto personally. In fact, he might quite well have been their choice if the papacy had not wished him, but it was a political question on which, however, they soon gave way. The Idol of the Venetians. Sarto became the idol of the Vene tians. When his gondola went through the canals the people rushed onto the bridges and along the sides of the canals, kneeling and saluting, the women ex claiming, "God bless the patriarch." The Pope used then to say that he did not like to go out of sight of the Lions of St. Mark, which now he will never see again, if he follows the rule of his two predecessors never to leave the Vatican. After beginning his career in Venice, Cardinal Sarto attracted attention by his profound learning and by his forceful eloquence as a preacher. He was made a member of several of the most im portant congregations of the Church, including those of Studies, Indulgences, Relics, and of Bishops and Regulars. He was a patron of the arts and it was through his efforts and his influence that Perosi, the composer, was turned to the Church. All the while his fame was spreading ; the admiration and love felt for him by his parishioners and the clergy alike were increasing. There was probably no man in Italy more uni versally loved, and none in the Church held in higher esteem. 42-C F Vol. 2 His manner always suggested extreme modesty, but his firmness and force of character were never lost sight of, not withstanding. He proved himself a great organizer and advanced the interests of religion in Venice and elsewhere to a wonderful degree. As a number of the Congregation of Relics he proved his strict regard for truth by ordering the destruction of a number of relics, held up to that time in the highest veneration, because he was convinced that their authenticity was extremely doubtful. It was not until he was created a car dinal that any opportunity came to him to take part in the politics affecting the Church. Then he began the advocacy of reconciliation between the Papacy and the King of Italy. He took this position one year after his elevation to the Sacred College, although at the time it was feared that his attitude would bring him into conflict with Pope Leo. But Cardinal Sarto was so sincere in his purposes, so honest in his convictions, that it was the Pope himself who was gained over to the other's way of think ing. A Strong Character. It is another revelation of the wonder ful character of Leo XIII that, while his own position had been strongly an tagonistic to a union of the government and the church, the very fervor with which Cardinal Sarto entered the con troversy caused him to view the matter in a different light. He took Cardinal Sarto into his con fidence, made him one of his personal friends, and, while he never publicly approved the latter's position with re- 658 LIFE OF POPE PIUS X. gard to the government, he allowed it to be known that he did not disapprove the cardinal's course, or hold him in lower esteem because their views did not coincide upon this important question- At the Italian Art Exhibition. When the King of Italy went to Ven ice to open the International Art Exhi bition, King Victor Emmanuel gave orders that the patriarch be given pre cedence over all the local authorities, but Sarto, having arrived while the king was speaking to the prefect, who is the highest government official in the prov ince, refused to be announced and said he would not disturb his Majesty. He remained in an ante-chamber affably con versing with the generals and admirals gathered there. When the king learned of his presence he came to receive him in the threshold of the chamber and kept him in conver sation, accompanying him afterward in a gondola, while all the soldiers and guards rendered the king military honors. Pope Pius X is a man of handsome face and strong physique. His life de voted from boyhood to study and hard work, has made no inroads upon his physical strength or his intellectual vigor. He is in the very fullness of his powers, and exercises them with firm ness and sagacity for the benefit of the cause he represents. The Pope is one of eight children, two sons and six daughters. The elder brother of the Pope, Angelo, lives in the village of Dellegrazie, Province of Mantua, being the postman of the dis trict. When Pius X was bishop of Mantua his brother, Angelo, often went there for reasons connected with his postal serv ice. The other clerks would ask him jokingly why his brother did not find him a better position. Angelo, with sturdy independence, answered that he preferred only to be what he could make himself. "Sarto," in Italian means "tailor," and Pius X, when a young seminarist, being rather elegant in his priestly robes, his companions used to joke, saying that he evidently knew the business. On one occasion when he went to Rome, on returning, when asked if he enjoyed the gorgeousness of the papal court and the magnificence of the func tions, Sarto answered : " When I am there I feel like a fish out of water.'' One of Modest Tastes. He has very modest tastes, having re tained much the same habits as when he was a mere curate at Salzano. He was firm, but just, with his clergy. As the Italians say, he has no harm on his ton gue or pen. Even so, Pius X often wrote truths which were, perhaps, un pleasant. When he pronounced his first benedic tion at St. Peter's his voice rang out with splendid resonance. In every way he showed beyond a doubt that he has dignity and personality in keeping with the best traditions associated with the famous pontiffs who for centuries have ruled the Vatican. No man the cardinals could have selected as Pope Leo's successor could have given such general satisfaction to the Church in Italy as Cardinal Sarto. No other man probably could have held out to the Church all over the world greater promise of assured advancement and the preservation of its interests. LIFE OF POPE PItS %. 659 Great as were the strides made during the wonderful reign of Leo XIII, they will surely be equalled by the reign of Pope Pius X. Added to his great learn ing and piety, he possesses the qualities which make great statesmen. He is involved in no entangling alliances with European governments, and is free to map out a policy in accordance with his own broad views and his strong desire for the welfare of the Church. Cardinal Sarto Chosen Pope. " Annuntio vobis gaudium magnum habenmus papen eminentissimum ac reverendissimum dominum Cardinalem, Giuseppe Sarto, qui sibi imposuit nom- en Pius X." With these words Cardinal Macchi, Secretary to the Congregation of Apos tolic Briefs, announced to the silent, expectant thousands gathered in the square before St, Peters, and to the world, the election of Cardinal Sarto, patriarch of Venice, as Pope, and that he had assumed the title of Pius X. It was nearly the noon hour on Tues day, August 4, 1903, when the central window on the balcony of St. Peter's was opened, and, surrounded by other dignitaries of the church, Cardinal Macchi appeared, and all the tumult below was hushed to silence to catch the name of the Cardinal who had been selected to fill the vacant papal throne. On the Friday before the Cardinals had gone into secret conclave, immured behind the closely sealed and strictly guarded walls, and since then no definite word as to the course of the balloting had come to the outside world. During Saturday forenoon, those who were watching from St. Peter's square saw a small column of smoke coming from the pipe which led above the roof of the Sistine Chapel. This was a sig nal that a ballot had been taken, that no choice had been made, and the bal lots were being burned. There was the same signal Saturday afternoon, and both forenoon and afternoon of Sunday and Monday. On Sunday, thousands gathered in the square, thinking that a choice would be made, and the continuance of the con test through Monday, when six ballots had been taken, caused an increase of interest and excitement to the outside watchers. As the smoke failed to arise at the usual hour Tuesday morning, the interest became intense, and as the min-# utes passed and the word spread that an election had evidently taken place, there was a rush to the square of many thous ands to hear the announcement. Announcement of the Election. Many rumors had been spread as to the result of the various ballots, but these were recognized only as guesses, so that none in the vast crowd knew what news was to fall from the lips of the herald until he reached it in his son orous announcement. Within a few moments the Pope himself, surrounded by his Cardinals appeared in the gallery inside St. Peter's and gave his blessing to the thousands who had gathered in the great Basilica. The new Pontiff was a comparative stranger in Rome, and this was the first sight of their new spiritual sovereign to nearly all of those assembled. They saw a tall man, of fine erect figure despite his sixty-eight years, with handsome face and abundant grey hair, and one whose voice rang out with splendid res onance. 660 LIEF OF POPE PltTS X. The secrets of the conclave have not all been revealed, but it is understood that in the early ballotings Cardinal Rampolla led with twenty-two votes, followed by Cardinals Sarafino, Vannu- telli and Gotti. Sarto had a smaller following. It is also very generally reported and believed that Austria claimed the right of veto, and that it exercised it on Sun day, when Rampolla's star was largely in the ascendant, against him. The ballot on Monday afternoon showed thirty-seven votes for Sarto, and clearly predicted his election. It is said his emotion was great and his reluctance to accept was evident and sincere. It was a cross rather than a crown which his associates were putting upon him. He finally gave his consent and Tuesday's first ballot confirmed the choice. An Imposing Conclave. There was sixty-two Cardinals in the conclave — the largest number ever par ticipating — and forty-two votes were necessary to elect. Immediately follow ing the result, Sarto changed his Car dinal's robes for those of a Pope and received obeissance as such from the assembled conclave. Even if there was personal disappointment in the minds of any of the Cardinals of their sup porters in the conclave, the result was accepted as a most happy outcome. Sarto has never been a political Car dinal, and his choice as a compromise between the parties in the church is hailed as an omen of peace and grow ing prosperity. The days following the election were busy ones for the new Pope, with recep tions and functions and coronation. The first body outside of officials to be re ceived, was a party of American pilgrims, who, having gone to receive a blessing from Leo, found themselves too late for that and had remained in Rome during the time of the conclave. They were received on the day following the elec tion. On Friday the bells of the five hundred churches of Rome rang in unison in honor of the new Pope. The coronation of the Pope took place on Sunday, August 9, 1903, and was a magnificent function. The cere mony took place in the Basilica of St. Peter's, " the vastest temple of Chris- temdom." Pope Pius IX, and Pope Leo were both crowned in a chapel of the Vatican, so it had been fifty-seven years since Rome had seen so grand a spectacle in the great church. - It is a saying in Rome that St. Peter's was never filled, but it seemed to be on this occasion. Over sixty thousand per sons were estimated as inside the enclos ure when the Pope, borne in his papal chair, entered the Basilica. The ceremony was long and full of the symbolism of the church. It closed with the bestowal of the tiara or triple crown, which he received as " fathers of princes and kings, rector of the world, and the vicar on earth of Christ." The ceremony lasted altogether five hours ; many of the people had been standing ten hours. The Pope was himself so exhausted he had scarcely strength left to give the papal benedic tion. There was a culmination of his fatigue on the Tuesday following, when just a week after his election he fainted while at mass. His desire to see all who came before him and the change in the manner of his life had proved too much for even his apparently powerful physique. r '- % THE RESURRECTION. LIFE OF POPE PIUS X. 661 POPE PIUS THE TENTH ON CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY LEADING PRINCIPLES OP CHRISTIAN POPULAR ACTION. I. Human society, as God has estab lished it, is composed of unequal ele ments, just as the members of the hu man body are unequal. To render them all equal is impossible, and would be precisely the destruction of human so ciety. 2. The equality of the various mem bers is in this, and this alone, that all men come from God the Creator, have all been redeemed by Jesus Christ, and wilh be judged, and punished or reward ed, by God, exactly according to their merits or demerits. 3. Hence it agrees with God's ordi nance that in human society there should be rulers and subjects, masters and work men, rich men and poor, learned and ig norant, noble and common ; and that united in the bonds of mutual love, all should help each other to reach their final end in heaven, and here on earth their material and moral welfare. Man's Dominion over the Earth. 4. Unlike the beasts, man has not only the simple use of the goods of the earth, but also the right of permanent owner ship ; not only, therefore, of things that are consumed in using them, but of things that are lasting. 5. Private property due to labor or in dustry, or again, due to transfer or gift from others, is a universal right of na ture, and every one may reasonably dis pose of his property as he sees fit. 6. To allay the strife between rich and poor we must distinguish justice from charity. It is only when justice has been violated that there is a right to redress. 7. The obligations of justice binding on the poorer classes and work people are as follows : To carry out fully and honestly the work as specified by a free and equitable agreement ; not to damage the property or to insult the persons of the masters ; to refrain, even when defending their own rights, from acts of violence, and never to turn the defence into a riot. Justice Between Capital and Labor. 8. The obligations of justice binding on capitalists and masters are as follows: To pay fair wages to the work people ; not to injure their lawful savings by force, or fraud, or usury, whether open or masked ; to give them freedom to ful fil their religious duties ; not to expose them to moral corruption and the dan gers of scandals ; not to damage their family life or their spirit of thrift ; not to impose work on them disproportion ate to their strength or unsuited to their age or sex. 9. An obligation of charity rests on rich men and holders of property to help the poor and needy according to the Gospel precept ; and so grave is this pre cept that on the Day of Judgment, ac cording to Christ Himself (Matt, xxv.), a special reckoning will be made of its fulfilment. 10. Hence the poor ought not to be ashamed of their poverty or to disdain the charity of the rich, but above all things to keep their eyes fixed on Jesus 662 LIFE OF POPE PIUS X. the Redeemer, who, when He might have been born among the rich, made Himself poor to honor poverty, and to enrich it with incomparable merit for Heaven. 1 1 . Towards the solution of the labor question the capitalists and the work men themselves can contribute greatly by institutions for giving timely relief to those in need, and for drawing to gether and uniting the two classes. Such are mutual aid societies; the many forms of private insurance ; institutions for the care of working boys; above all, the various trade associations. Christian Democracy. 12- This is the special aim of Chris tian Popular Action or Christian De mocracy with its many and varied works. Such Christian Democracy ought therefore to be understood in the sense already declared authoritatively, a sense quite remote from that of " Social Democracy," and having as its base the principles of Catholic faith and moral ity, among them above all the principle of not injuring in any way the inviola ble right of private property. 13. Moreover, Christian Democracy ought never to mix itself up with poli tics, or to serve parties and political ends. This is not its field, but rather it should be work for the popular welfare, founded on the law of nature and on the precepts of the Gospel. 14. In pursuing its own objects, Chris tian Democracy is strictly bound to be subordinate to Ecclesiastical Authority, giving loyal obedience to the Bishops and their representatives. It is neither meritorious zeal nor genuine piety to undertake any work, excellent though it may be in itself, when the Bishop does not approve. 15. Catholic writers, in whatever touches religious interests and the ac tion of the Church in Society, ought to be fully subordinate with intellect and will, like the rest of the faithful, to their bishop and to the Roman Pontiff. Above all, they should be careful, in any serious discussion, not to anticipate the judgments of the Apostolic See. 16. Christian Democratic writers, like all other Catholic writers, ought to ob tain the episcopal imprimatur for any of their writings that deal with religion. Christian morality, or natural ethics, Ecclesiastics, even when they publish writings of a merely technical character, ought previously to obtain the consent of their bishop. Charity and Concord. 17. They ought, besides, to make every effort and every sacrifice to pre serve charity and concord in their midst, avoiding any kind of injury or offensive language. When real grounds of disa greement arise, instead of publishing anything in the newspapers, they ought to have recourse to the Ecclesiastical Authority, which will decide as justice requires. If they are corrected by the Authority, let them promptly obey with out evasions and without making any public grievance of the matter; nat urally, indeed, reserving their right of appeal, in the proper way and where the case requires it, to the superior Au thority. 18. Finally, Catholic writers, in tak ing up the cause of the poorer classes, should be careful not to use language that may arouse in them hostility against the upper classes. Waters must npt LIFE OF POPE PIUS X. 663 speak of claims and of justice in cases which are simply a matter of charity (as explained previously). Let them re member that Jesus Christ desires to unite all men in the bond .of mutual charity, which is the perfection of jus tice and binds us all to strive for the good of each other. Acting on our own accord and with full knowledge, We, with our Apostolic authority, reaffirm the foregoing leading principles in every part of them, and We direct them to be seut to all the Catholic Committees, Clubs, and Asso ciations of whatever nature or form. These Societies ought to have them posted up at their offices, and to read them frequently at their meetings. We also direct that the Catholic newspapers publish them in their entirety, express their willingness to observe them, and do observe them in real earnest ; else let the newspaper be gravely admonished, and on failure of amendment be pro hibited by the Ecclesiastical Authority. Moreover, as neither words avail any thing, nor energy in action, unless pre ceded, accompanied, and followed by good example, it is needful that all the members of any Catholic work should display clearly their faith by holy lives, unspotted morals, and strict observance of the laws of God and the Church ; this being the duty of every Christian, and besides, " that he who is on the contrary part, may he afraid, having no evil to say of us" (Titus ii. 8). We hope that, with God's blessing, abundant and happy fruits may result from this Our solicitude for the common good, of united Catholic action. Given in Rome at St. Peter's in the first year of Our Pontificate. Pius PP. X. The Church Catholic. BY B. F\ C. COSTELLOE, rVLA. HROUGH all the centuries of civilization " — so I imagine Macaulay's New Zealander will say to an impartial generation — " through all the change and chance of history there runs one permanent power. Alike in the decay of Greece and the pride of Rome, alike through the tem pest of the barbarian times and the gradual uprising of the kingdoms, from the ages when men accepted meekly their appointed place, to the latter day when every man's hand was against his brother in the bitter war of individual competition, one system of things has stood secure, as a castle founded upon a rock stands above the rising and the falling tide through the calm weather and the storm. An organization at first but of the unlearned and the outcasts of society — as was its Founder — placed under the ban of the most imperial despotism the world has seen "it was but a little later the sister sovereign of the same Empire through the Roman world; and when the Empire fell beneath the greatness of its task, the throne of the Fisher man continued to stand in the very palace of the Caesars, and the city where the Popes of four centuries had been driven like things of darkness under ground became the world-capital of the Papacy. " In one age the apostle of an ideal 664 morality in an evil time ; in another the conserver of learning ; in a third the mother of the arts ; in all the pattern and helper of political and social unity — this unchanging yet ever varying kingdom, this stern and yet most lib eral philosophy, not only claimed to teach, but taught, as with authority, the children of men.'' Surely I may claim that it is a start ling item in the secular march of things, a masterful fact not lightly to be put by — no more than that other cardinal fact to which it leads us back — the life and death of Jesus who was called the Christ. He founded this power; He said it should not fail ; and it has not failed. Not once but many times, indeed, there came great waves of what the world thought disaster. In the begin ning it was persecution. Edict after edict went out against them, till in the darkness of the night before the dawn an illiterate barbarian bent the force of the twin Empires to exterminate the Chris tian name ; and knowing how easy was the detection of those who never would deny their crime, the imperial states men said that the dangerous rival of the Caesars would not be heard of any more — but it is the statesmen who are for gotten. Then there was the wave of schism. The Arian heresy prevailed so far that men said the Church's time was ended upon the earth. Princes and peoples, THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 665 Bishops and provinces, fell away, till there was but a handful left to continue the great tradition. Yet, in a little while, the Arians passed like a mirage, and men asked each other the meaning of the name. A Gloomy Period for the Church. It was an even darker hour when a rising tide of moral corruption and a swift outbreak of intellectual doubt, coinciding in the period of the Renais sance, seemed to have killed the ener gies of the Church, and swamped in wickedness and infidelity the very Court of Rome. Yet the curious reasonings of the Neo- Pagans have left but faint echoes in the history of thought1 — the worldly Popes and the corrupt Cardinals and all the unfaithful stewards who dared to lift their mitres up against their Master have gone to their account — and there does not remain upon the institutions or the morals of the doc trine of the Church a vestige of the evil time. Wave upon wave, in the very worst of the danger, came the great upheaval called the Reformation, wherein the spirit of Individualism, personified in the rough violence of Luther, rent the Church in twain ; and in this rebellion and the disorders which accompanied and followed it, it seemed as if the bark of Peter, must assuredly go down. Yet as even Macaulay — most typical of English Protestants — has borne witness, the work of the Council of Trent and the early labors of the Jesuit Order and all that inner Reformation which accom panied these, left the Papacy not weaker but strouger than before. Finally, in our time, are come the days when countless new chapters of revelation are unrolled by science, and when a universal criticism, laying faith and reverence aside, has summoned every creed and every law to answer at the bar of reason for its right to be. All these great and good men who are to free us from the trammels of old time — whether they come as agnostics or in the name of evolution, whether they say they hold God needless, or have found our immortality to be a phantom, or cannot recognize that there is such a thing as Sin — with one accord in divers tongues cry out to us that the old creeds have passed for ever, and that the religion of the future, if relig ion there be at all, must be something less archaic than the Church of Christ. Upholds Christ's Teaching. But in the midst of them — not deny ing whatever truth they have to show, adapting indeed the message of the ages to the later time, but upholding always her profession of Christ's teaching and the Christian Law — the ancient Church goes on. It is in this permanence amid the changing centuries, it is in this endur ing triumph in defeat, that even the most hostile critics have felt something of that great appeal which to her child. ren the mere existence of the church implies ; and something of the force with which to their eyes is realized in her the propecy of the Divine Founder. May we not well call it a fulfillment of that commission, with which, in differ ent wordings, it pleased the Spirit that inspired the writers of the covenant to close three Gospels and to begin the Acts : " As my Father hath sent Me, so send I you. Go ye therefore into all nations, baptizing them in the name of the 666 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things, whatsoever I have commanded you ; and behold I am with you always, even to the end of the world." Mission and Office of the Church. It is in this light, then, that I desire first to present to you the mission and office of the Catholic Church. Its name insists upon its universal claim. It is not a congregation of persons agreeing together; it is not a School of Philoso phy ; it is not a Mutual Improvement Society. It is not even a Church among other Churches. It is the Church Uni versal — the Living Voice of God, in Christ's revelation, unto all people, through all time. It is for this reason, and this only, that it teaches as its Mas ter taught — not as the Scribes and Phar isees, but as one "having authority." It is for this reason that in God's name it makes that awful demand upon the faith of men which no human power, however arrogant, would dare suggest — that we who accept its teach ing office shall accept those propositions which are " of faith, '' even where we do not wholly understand them, and even where they may seem to us to stand in conflict with other portions of our per sonal reasoning as to the things that lie within the human ken. You will see at once that this demand cannot merely be waived aside as being incompatible with so-called rights of private judgment unless you are prepared on the same principle to deny that there can be any authoritative revelation of God's truth at all. Private judgment — meaning the para mount authority of that which at any moment may commend itself to me — must dissolve any divine authority of the Written Word, as surely as of the Living Voice. Luther, in his more consistent mood, was hardly less arro gant than Mr. Matthew Arnold in his assertion that the Canon of the New Testament was to be limited by his own theology. The Epistle of James, said Luther, cannot be the word of God, because it is tainted with "Justification by works." This and this alone cannot be a doctrine of Jesus, says the modern critic, because I would not have said it. I do not forget that one great watch word of the sixteenth century revolt was the appeal from the Church to the Bible. But the impartial critics have long since begun to recognize that the Bible is no ally of the Lutheran and Calvanist theology, much less of the eclectic system of the so-called Episco pal Church. And as the inevitable dis integration has gone on, the appeal to the Bible has come to be an appeal against the Bible. Teaching of the Church. I do not hesitate, indeed, to say that the teaching office of the Church and the existence of any real revelation must stand and fall together. If there be no Church, neither is there any Bible, unless you mean by a Bible an interesting but scrappy compendium of oriental litera ture. If the Church be not a teacher, then there is not any Christ at all, un less it be self-deluded Hebrew Socrates. It will enable me to make my position clearer, if I may for a moment assume that those whom I address accept the proposition that the mission of Christ was to reveal to the whole world some knowledge of divine things not attaina ble or not attained before. My position THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 667 is that, if this be true, the claim of the Church to be a living voice, expound ing with authority from age to age what was contained in that revelation and included in the deposit of faith, must of necessity be allowed. Spiritual Revelation. For if a revelation were required for the spiritual guidance of the race, it is self-evident that the truth intended to be revealed must be capable of being ap prehended by all sorts and conditions of men, and in the coming ages of the world, with some reasonable security. A revelation which in its cardinal points was open to such absolute doubt, that the most honest, enlightened and spir itual men could arrive at conclusions diametrically opposed, and yet have no kind of arbiter to whom they could refer their difference, is no revelation at all. That any revelation should be useful for the world or conceivable as a provi dential design, three things surely are necessary : that it should be guaranteed in its inception : that it should carry a continuing certitude : and that it should be applicable to the intelli gence and practical necessities of every struggling soul. It is written, indeed, that the things of God are hidden oftentimes from the wise and learned, and are revealed rather to the babes and sucklings of the world. But assuredly it cannot be true that the revelation of Christ is a thing discernible by sundry scholars and gentlemen, being leisure and much knowledge, but wholly misapprehended or not visible at all among the "little ones " of whom He always spoke so carefully — by the crossing-sweeper and the washer-woman, the laborer in the fields, the proletariat of the town. If from these, who need it most, the reve lation of Christ is inevitably hidden, then God has mocked the universe. But if there be a not teaching authority and a living voice, how is the truth accessible to these ? Will you tell me they can read the Bible? I reply, that men better and more learned than they have found a thousand contradictory religions within the covers of the Sacred Books of Chris tianity. Even if it were not so, who shall guarantee to them either the degree of authority that attaches to these books or the very contents of the canon, if there be no continuing teacher in the world since the day when Christ last stood on Olivet, when not a line indeed of the New Testament was written ? Revolt in Sixteenth Century. The movers of the revolt against au thority in the sixteenth century felt the difficulty dimly ; but they evidently were not aware of the far-reaching scepticism which their protest logically involved. It is a common delusion that they appealed to human reason against the Church. They did nothing of the kind. They adopted, as a working principle, the doctrine of the infallibil ity of Bible text, supplemented by the conception of the "testimony of the Holy Spirit." On this view, earnest souls through out Protestantism, prayerfully reading the Word of God with the intoxicating belief in a personal revelation of its import, were not long in setting up an infinite diversity of creed and practice, wherein, for want of any Pope, each teacher was his own. Even themon- 668 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. strosities of the Anabaptists in the ear lier time, or of the Mormons in our own have come to them guaranteed by the same authority which guarantees the sturdy Calvinism of Scotland, the Puri tanism of the Ironsides, the mystic spirituality of George Fox and William Penn. Of all this I merely say that, to my mind, such a revelation reveals nothing ; and that if the office of the Mes siah were but to live and speak for a little while, and charge a few uneducated persons to commit to writ ing a fragmentary account of what He did and said, and a still more im perfect set of epistolary remarks upon the theories of life and action which He taught, then He has left the world with out any secure guidance in the ways of God, or any safe criterion of truth and right. A Cult of Isolated Texts. Surely the cult of isolated texts which is nicknamed " Bibliolatry ' is no possi ble assurance of God's teaching. There are texts which, taken apart, prove al most everything. And conversely there are many vital matters which no set of texts, taken apart, will satisfactorily es tablish. If anything is clear about the New Testament, it is that nowhere does it profess to set out either a reasoned philosophy of life or a comprehensive scheme of doctrine. Apart from the probability that there was even then a "Discipline of the Secret," it is obvious that in no one of the Gospels or Epistles has the writer any idea of writing a systematic exposi tion, or any notion that he is putting on record an exhaustive or complete ac count of the teaching either of Christ or any of the early Church. To them, as to me, the deposit of faith was a body of tradition, providentially safe-guarded by the earthly work of the Spirit of Truth, but not depending on nor bounded by the Sacred Books, for it was going on concurrently before and during their construction, by the same authority which adjudicated, first vaguely and afterwards with definite precision, upon the number and office of the Sacred Books themselves. Historic Value of the Bible. There is of course another sense in which all Christianity must depend on the Bible, for it is there chiefly that we find the historic warrant for the belief that such a life as Christ's was ever lived at all. But when we have used our Matthew, and John, and Paul, with Clement and Hermas, and Ignatius and the rest, as we might use our Tacitus or our Josephus ; and in the character of historic students have sifted out from these the fact that Christ's life and acts and works and personality are in the main as historic as Caesar's ; then, as a Catholic, I would say that we can col lect from that account and the historic facts surrounding it the assurance not only that this momentous Person did found the Catholic Church — of which I am as certain as that Caesar initiated the Empire — but also that in founding it He gave it a commission which, if He was truly God, was very Divine. Thus it is that when, in course of cen turies, we find it declared that Matthew, John and Paul are " of the canon of scriptures" and are to be read as in spired writings, whereas Clement and Hermas, however venerable, are not- then we can go back to Matthew, and THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 669 John, and Paul, and read them again, not as mere historical critics but as hum ble students of the word of God — and s° are prepared to accept, on their authority endorsed by the authority of the faith, much in their narrative which, as his torical critics, we were content to ear mark as possibly legendary or of doubt ful accuracy, and much in their doctrine which, as mere literature, might not have commended itself to a fastidious taste. Catholic Attitude to the Bible. I have desired to define at some length this Catholic view of Christ's revelation and the Catholic attitude towards the Bible, as opposed to the Protestant theo ries on these matters, partly because it is vital to the understanding of Catholic ism and partly because it is seldom un. derstood by those who stand outside the Church. I now pass to the considera tion of some of the main lines of the Catholic teaching. It will be under stood that I have indeed nothing to of fer but a few suggestions, whose only value, if they have any, is that they have been borne in upon me by reason of much converse with those to whom Catholicism speaks the language of a strange country. Upon the commonplaces of contro versy I do not propose to waste time. The "errors of Rome" which exercise the mind of anti-Popery lecturers and other wise men, are for the most part beside the point. Too often, they are either flat misstatements of Catholic be lief, imputing to us what no Catholic would dream of teaching — as that " the end justifies the means ;" or they are a travesty of something which is the mer est fringe of that great body of doctrine, such as the ancient usage of indulgences or the celibacy of clergy. If a man de sires to appreciate the Catholic Faith as it deserves, it is not with these high points of controversy that he will begin. It is the broad base-lines of that majestic plan that such a one will look for. It is the pregnant words which, by that living voice, the Master speaks to all the world and to each man's soul. I cannot hope to make you know these mighty words — which Paul heard in the third heaven — which all of us will hear when the last trumpet sounds — which, as we well know, descend at the altar rails into many a simple heart. To the ear of faith, they are not hard to hear ; but to state them in the common lan- guage of the world, and above all in the customary, speech of modern England, is a work that for its full accomplish ment must wait, I think, till God shall send again that gift of "prophecy," wherewith He touched the lips of John of the Golden Mouth, and lit the fiery eyes of Savonarola and winged the gra cious words of Lacordaire. Discouragement of Religion. Yet, however little power there be to do it, we must do the little that we may. For when we look back upon that woe ful time when the body of Christ was torn asunder, and the mightiest sem blance of God's Kingdom which the world had seen was rent by civil war, I think we cannot choose but say that these men, however we are to judge their motives or their aim, threw back the world's religious life by centuries. We have had more than two hundred years of " Pcenix-cremation " since the Bull of Wittenberg was burnt; but I doubt if another two hundred will place us at the point the world might have 670 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. reached, if the party of reform had been led by men of the type of Savonarola and of Thomas More, rather than by Luther and Henry VIIL That is our view ; but of those who take any other, we may at least demand that they shall be willing to labor with us to restore the broken unity, to heal the secular war, to point the nations, amid a chaos that seemingly grows worse with every tide of books, to that City whereof the pat tern is laid up in heaven, whose walls are justice and whose ways are peace, since it is builded upon the rock of an assured commission and lit for ever by the light of God. Significance of Catholicism. I must pray you therefore to follow me a little, while I try to tell you what Catholicism means to me. It implies, first of all, a deep tremendous conscious ness of the heaven-high difference be tween good and evil, truth and untruth, righteousness and sin, if it seems to be rigid in its teaching and in its insistence on obedience, it is because it feels that the tolerance which holds that one thing may as well be true as any other, is but an opening of the floodgates of all misery. Tolerance we are perfectly ready to give where it is due. Where a man believes error honestly, only because he is somehow disabled from seeing the truth, we do not ven ture to condemn him ; but we cannot talk of it as if he were!as likely to be right as we are, or as if it did not matter which of us was right at all. For when we say that we believe, we mean it : and when we profess to hold the Truth revealed by God in Christ, we hold it as a preci ous gift, the wanton loss of which would be more terrible than worldly calamity. As with truth, so with the conscious* ness of sin. We are reproached, unjust ly enough, with some unreasonable hos tility to modern progress, and to that all- pervading spirit of emancipation which is the pride of the children of the Great Revolution. Neither with progress, nor with science, nor with freedom, has the Church any quarrel. She has herself in many ways been the promoter and guar dian of them all ; but she has always been, and is and will be, jealous of the souls that are in danger, for she counts the risk of moral evil as a thing far graver than material prosperity. As we would all say surely, in our personal ethics, that no amount of money gain should weigh with an honest man against his moral degradation ; so the Church says, upon her wider plane, that no amount of monetary or material pro gress will compensate a generation, if thereby it suffers moral wreck. Utopias of Emancipation. "What doth it profit a man," she cries from age to age, " if he, gain the whole world and lose his own soul? " " Woe upon you," she cries to the her alds of comfortable Utopias of emancipa tion, " if by your recklessness the little ones of Christ are made to stumble and to fall.'' So much — but no more. Churchmen have been mistaken, as we all admit, in their application of that principle. You are free to say bitter things about their politics, if you will. But if you would do justice to the spirit which animated even the narrowest among them, you must remember that the thought which underlay their war fare was the paramount importance of saving, if possible, these little ones among their flock, from what seemed a THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 671 probable risk of being led to sin against God and to incur His displeasure. Consciousness of Sin. Throughout all the Catholic doctrine and the living practice of the Church runs the same dominant note of the con sciousness of sin. That God is above all things infinitely holy — that every single grave and deliberate sin is a disaster to the universe which we cannot measure — that, in the things of human life, sin is indeed the only real evil that exists) and that to advance towards perfection of personal character is our only real pro gress — these are the alphabet of the Catholic rule of life. If it be asceticism to hold that our pain and pleasure are of absolutely no account in comparison with any moral gain, then we are all ascetics in our belief, however little we may fulfill that rule in practice. The reason we hold each particular sin a woeful evil, is because it appears to us as a direct contempt of God, who is our absolute Lord and infinite bene factor, and because we feel that to Him by His essential nature, evil must needs be horrible altogether. If we are to talk of justice, therefore, any one rebellion could be enough to forfeit all His grace, forego His promises, and alienate the sinner by the issue of his own choice from that Heavenly Presence wherein no discord dwells. Not only does the Church so think of sin, but she goes on to say that even if by repentance and in God's grace the direct offence is put away, the rebel ab solved, the alien soul brought back into the happy family who are at home with God, yet even so the mischief of that once-committed sin is not put by. For it is the nature of evil to work itself out still, in evil and disablement and loss ; and these, which are technically called the "temporal consequences" of sin, must needs be suffered even while there is rejoicing in Heaven over the sheep which was lost and is now found again. It is in this connection that we think of Purgatory. It is the life beyond this life where souls, who are indeed not rebels now but God's beloved penitents, must wait and toil and grow till they have wholly purged away the conse quences of forgotten sin, and wrought upon the frail and faulty characters they built themselves, that final beauty of holiness which is alone receptive of the Vision of God. Anathemas of the Church. But if the Church is stern and terrible in her anathemas on even the begin nings of moral wrong, she is not slow to preach the good tidings of the infinite mercy. I cannot profess to you that the God of whom she speaks is the God of those who go their easy ways and say, " He's a good fellow and 'twill be all well." She dare not bid us think it will be well, unless we will it. " He made us," says St- Austin, "without our con. sent, but He will not save us so." For with the consciousness of sin, the Church insists by logical necessity on the para mount fact of human freedom. When the human soul came from the creative fiat as a self capable of moral life, and therein stamped with the very image of the Divine, it bore both the mark of re sponsibility and the inalienable power, to cause evil things to be, in what was God's fair universe before. Why did He do it ? we may all ask ; but with our little knowledge of the secrets of the Eternal we cannot give much other an- 672 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. swer than that, as far as we can see, it was not possible to separate the trans cendent gift of a potential moral good ness, whereby we are indeed ennobled as no other gift could honor us, form its correlative possibility of creating crime. Grace and Free Will. On Free Will, then, the Church in sists ; but she insists no less on Grace. If God be stainless purity, He is no less essential Love. If he does not compel us to obey the Holy Law, at least He plies us with inducement, with sugges tion, with facility of every kind which infinite wisdom joined to infinite love can offer for our aid. The world which we inhabit is the world our fathers made, and it is beset with the results of old an cestral sin ; for it is the tragic property of wrong that its ill consequences affect not only him who does it, but also those to whom his life is bound in this great family of struggling souls. We live then not in a Paradise of God's arranging, but in a Babylon of crooked ways, whose streets are littered with the rotting evil and barred with the accumulated rubbish of that past which we inherit. I do not forget, still less deny, that this same Babylon is a mighty city, wherein are also goodly sights and gracious buildings not a few, with many that, though still imperfect, and it may be dangerous in their imper fection, are full of promise for the later time. I am no decrier of the noble in heritance our fathers left us ; yet I say that when I think of it as the abode wherein we must work out each of us his own salvation, it would to me seem little better than a fever swamp or stricken city of the plague, were it not for the grace of God. For, as the Church conceives, the teeming millions who are born and die, at mere haphazard as it were, along the crooked ways where to the human eye there is no light nor joy, are not forgot ten. Up and down, as Jacob saw them, go the messengers of God. To all they come ; to those who are working out, with fear and trembling always, yet with steady resolution, what they take to be for them the will of God ; and to those who are wavering on the brink of dan ger ; and to those no less — nay rather, more eagerly if possible, — who have al ready sinned and are persisting in their sin. Plague Inheritance of Sin. Up and down too go the messengers, in those hard places of the world where circumstance, to human eyes, is as a devil-giant coercing hapless lives not only into pain but into moral wreck. We do not say that evil circumstance, that plague-inheritance of ancient sin, is a light thing. We think indeed that He who judges all of us will make al lowance amply. It seems evident that to some the avoidance of a special sin — say drunkenness — is easier than to others. To none, short of moral madness, is sin in truth a necessity; and the mad man's acts are not sin. What we con clude is not so much that those who are thrown among evil surroundings are wholly to be excused, as that those of us who have had better advantage, have the deeper blame. But everywhere, and to each with the appropriate message, come the bearers of God's grace. When the man who is clothed in pur ple and fine linen and fares sumptuous ly every day, is basking in a sensual THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 673 ease, some warning, whether it take the form of Lazarus or no, awakes him to remember better things. When the stricken child, to whom life never brought a sweeter message than the har mony of the outward squalor and the in ward pain, lies wistfully drifting to wards the welcome end, there are hands unseen that clothe upon its soul the raiment of an unearthly lesson. When the successful Philistine is blot ting day by day from the tablets of his brain the memory of any spiritual pos sibilities, there is a hand that constant ly renews the unconsidered lines, so that he cannot choose but sometimes see them. For every battle there is an ally, for every frailty a support ; with every temptation, however fierce it seems to our not quite impartial judgment, there goes forth the possibility of bearing it. A Warfare Against Sin. Conceiving thus of human life, as a warfare wherein we daily fight with sin, with the perpetual assistance of the grace of God, the Catholic Church pre sents to us, as the central fact of the world's history, the coming of the Christ. It is not uncommon to reproach us with our acceptance of the supernat ural ; and our critics seem to be quite satisfied that the admission of any belief which involves things not explainable by so-called ' ' natural law," is mere su perstition — as absurd as witchcraft and less respectable than Spiritualism or the Mind Cure. I will not stray to discuss this general point of view ; but I will content myself with the remark that there is no necessary antagonism at all between Naturalism and the Super natural, rightly understood. 43-C P Vol. 2 If Free Will be a fact, that alone trans cends at once all that in the narrow sense is spoken of as " natural law ;" for every free act, if it be truly free, in troduces a spiritual new creation into the sequence of material and organic forces. Why should not the same be true in a wider field ? If there be a personal God, why may His will not also intervene and mould the stolid course of physical change and consequence ? And if there be such influence at all, why should we assume that it is opposed to law ? Rather must it be itself the action and evidence of a higher and more spiritual reason in things, which we perhaps cannot as yet follow, but which we too may some day see. The Lord of Life. To the Catholic, then, the cardinal fact of the whole world's history is the birth and life and death of Christ. The old world leads up to it ; the new is its development and outcome. Unique in all the centuries — lowliest and yet most royal — that dying Preacher, who was crucified by Jerusalem and Rome for say ing that He was the very Son of God, is the corner-stone of the world fabric, — the key of the human mystery — the Lord of Life. Reading the simple nar rative, waiving all question of inspira. tion, if you will, we can come to no other conclusion but that He claimed to be the Incarnate God. Not at all a wise Soc rates — not in the least, a later Isaiah — not a mystic nor a magician ; but the very God — the Word made Flesh — the absolute "I am." Upon this paramount and central truth of Christ's Divinity, the Church insists as the focus and radiating point of all her teaching. I have spoken of her wide philosophy of sin and grace. For both, 674 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. she takes us back at once to Christ His life and death — the perfect sacrifice. the purifying and the reconciliation of sin-stained humanity — bore in it the needed infinite redemption, built in the counsels of the eternal mercy the golden bridge by which every sinner may return. In the mystery of that Life and Death, at once truly human and inalienably divine, is the origin of all grace. He is the link between the Finite and the In finite ; therefore He is the way whereby we come to God and whereby God com municates Himself to us. In that, by reason of His humility, we are the brethren of the Son of God, so are we heirs of the heavenly kingdom. In His Sonship is the eternal Fatherhood of God revealed. In that He died, He con quered death ; in that He lived and liveth, He is the door of life eternal. Christ, Human and Divine. On all this, I say, the Catholic Church insists — and with far keener and more eager vigilance than any other of the confessions. For if Christ be not God, she feels, then is our hope vain. If He, who on a score of critical occasions claimed to be Divine, was but a mad man or a fraud, let us not play at Chris tianity — let us rather eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. Because from the first she guarded this essential truth before all else, therefore she spent cen turies in defining and maintaining the doctrine of Christ, the Human and Di vine. The elaborate formulae of the Nicene theology and the rest are not scholastic subtleties or the quibbles of an oriental fancy ; they are the neces sary basis and security of the vital fact of Christianity. It is either these, or nothing. And as she has insisted always on the doctrine of the Trinity, so, for exactly the same reason, she has been careful to uphold the honorable prerogative of her whom from the earliest centuries she has styled the Mother of God. Wonder ful indeed it is to any Catholic to hear the stale invectives which are still be stowed on " Mariolatry," as if somehow the worship of the Divine were squan dered on a creature ; for there lives no Catholic so ignorant as not to be able to tell you the true answer — that we honor her precisely because to do otherwise would be to ignore the real Godhead of her Son, and pay Him disrespect. Very God of Very God. Believing then that Christ is the "very God of very God," who took upon Him self the human nature and dwelt with us on earth awhile, the Church presents His earthly work under four different aspects — though these also are in truth the same. He is the Saviour of the world ; He is the Revelation of the Truth of God ; He is the Perfect Life ; and He is the Founder of the Spiritual Kingdom. You will see that each and all of these grow naturally and at once out of the main conception of His nature and His office. In the world-reconciliation, it was needful that men should learn to know God better, and that they should be taught to do His will, seeing that the human wisdom and human good inten tions had not sufficed. Equally, as I have sought to show you, was it neces sary that an abiding institute should be created — not indeed a kingdom of this world, but yet a palpable, continuing, organic fact — a sure custodian and an abiding witness. THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 675 On some of these points I have dwelt already — of all there is abundant notice in the Gospel texts. To insist on them at length here would carry me beyond my scope. I pass therefore at once to say that beyond this fundamental insis tence on the Divine character of Christ, there is another derivative sense in which the Catholic Church insists constantly upon the supernatural. Spiritual Help of God. I said that, in her view, the life of man must needs be constantly assisted by the spiritual help of God ; and that she presents the life and death of Christ, as being, in the design of Providence, the fountain of this unfailing grace. Now it is her special pride and office to be a means of salvation available to all — to be a Church truly Catholic, to whom nothing of humanity is alien, from whom the beggar can draw spirit ual wealth as surely as the prince or the professor, though they too find, if they will seek it, all the special help they need. To the end that there should be in the world such tangible and easy ways of entering into the Heavenly Communion, of appropriating, each poor nature for itself, the riches of the treasure of the Lord, the Church believes that Christ ordained that series of symbolic rites adapted to the crises of our life, which we call Sacraments ; and that it was His will to appoint concerning these that they should be to His disciples (apart from prayer) the ordinary chan nels of the communication of that grace and pardon and spiritual sustenance, which in and through the office of our Saviour we claim from the Almighty. True is it, that this infinite ocean of Love is waiting for us all the while. Yet in the spiritual order, Love too has its own laws, and this is one of them ; that by Christ's appointment we draw its channels into our souls, as freely and as fully as we will or as our capacity for receiving it will allow, by obeying the sacramental ordinances of the Christian dispensation, in faith and love and hum ble trust in Him. Power of the Sacraments. I need not tell you — for it is patent — that of this sacramental system the cen tral power is that fact, which more than any theoretic point marks off the life of the Church Catholic from everything beyond it — the acceptance of the Real Presence of the Lord upon our altars under the sacramental form. To those who approach this as mere critics, bringing neither personal ex perience nor sympathy to aid them, no man can hope to say what it implies. To them I will only say, " You read the Imitation and you hold it a great book — one of the treasures of the world — a mirror and revelation of the holiest in man. Read then the sacramental chap ters of that soul-swaying meditation) and go back and scoff at us, if you can." Or let them go, if they prefer life to literature, into any Catholic church, not at a fashionable midday Mass but in the early morning, on some great day like Easter or the Birthday of Christ ; and watch the still rapt gladness that has fallen on the meanest faces, watch the fellowship and democracy of the altar rails, catch the energy of better effort and of new beginning, and the enthu siasm of sincere repentance, and the no bility of high worship that makes the air electric— and tell us if they can, that 676 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. it is all no more than mummery and priestcraft, folly counter-signed by fraud. All this may be self-deception, you will say : and undoubtedly, although subjective testimony may be much to us who have believed, to others it is at the best a noticeable phenomenon. Something more is wanted. We must show a reason for our faith in this most startling or most mystic doctrine of a spiritual Presence that transcends not only sense but maddest imagination, of which yet there is no outward sign at all. Our first reason, naturally, is in the Bible text itself. We say, and I confess I cannot conceive that an intelligent atheist would doubt it, that Christ said neither more nor less than what the Church teaches concerning the Eu charist, not only when He founded that rite on the most solemn occasion of His intercourse with his Apostles, but at many other times, and above all in that startling test discussion which is re corded in the sixth cnapter of St. John. But strong as is the Scriptural argu ment, the Church has another that is perhaps still stronger and of far deeper value to mankind. The Real Presence. The doctrine of the Real Presence, linked with that of the ordinance of the Last Supper as a mystic, yet most ef fectual commemoration and representa tion of the Passion of the Lord, is the essence and import of " the Mass. " Now that great act of common worship and of mystic sacrifice, of solemn commem oration and public prayer for all the living and the dead, is and has always been the central office of the Church — in every age and nation substantially, nay even minutely, the same. Being so notable a corporate act, it has been always safe-guarded by jealous provision for a settled liturgical form. There is no time in the history of Chris tendom when that liturgy is not before us, as a palpable and most significant record ; for in every age and under every variation it testifies beyond cavil to the belief in a Real Sacramental Presence of the Lord as the whole point and meaning of the great office. I suppose there are many able and learned per sons who imagine, in a very careless ignorance, that the Mass is a " fond thing vainly invented,'' somewhere in the Middle Ages. Yet nothing is more palpably untrue. The Liturgy of the Mass. The case stands thus. There exist certain great types of the Liturgy of the Mass — all perfectly at one in their in tent and doctrine and general plan, and even in their main forms of prayer and in unexpected coincidences of phrase and action, yet varying in practical ar rangements and filled in with details evidently arising by local usage. Each of these is clearly parallel to and not derived from the others. Each is attributed by the local tradition to an apostle, who was the early founder of the local Church. Each is carried up, by a separate chain of documentary and historical evidence, to a time not very many generations removed from the living witness of those who saw and heard the Lord. What is more clear as a mere matter of scientific historical criticism, than that these great trunk lines of liturgical tradition must have diverged from a THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 677 common Apostolic Type or norm — and that this type must have been, as they are, a central and Sacramental and commemorative office, involving a Real Presence, and being to them in all essentials what the office of the Mass has been to us to-day ? Probably many of you will be incred ulous, but the proofs are very simple. At Rome we have the Liturgy which is now the common, though by no means the only form used in the Catholic Church, and we trace it back so far, that details of its use are attributed to Popes who ruled between ioo A. d. and 1 20 A. D. The names of the com memorated in the text are known to have been Saints added by gradual accretion, and yet all of them, with a solitary exception, were martyred before A. D. 310 (the excepted date being 362,) while the earlier names go back to Linus, Cletus, and Clement, the imme diate successors of Peter's Chair. Roman Prayers. Ambrose of Milan, himself the editor of a special rite still preserved there, cites, soon after 400 A. d. , some of the Roman prayers as being taken from what he then called "the ancient rites." Like all the others, it seems to have been preserved in oral tradition, by reason of the Discipline of the Secret, until the fifth century; but a copy of the Canon, exactly as it is now, was set forth in the Sacramentary of the Pope Gelasius about 496 a. d. There is, however, no question that the ancient form had been preserved in all its essentials, though we have reason to believe there was a certain shorten ing of all the liturgies after the Empire became Christian ; and we have on record, in the Epistles of St. Innocent I, in the fourth century, that Pope's opinion that the Liturgy was in fact the true tradition given by St. Peter to the Church at Rome. Turn now to the other great rite preserved at Alexandria, which in like manner was probably committed to writing under St. Cyril, Bishop of Alex andria, after 400 A. D. , and ascribed by him and by the whole Church to the direct oral tradition of St. Mark himself. The internal evidence of the prayers, as they were then set down and have been since preserved, points to the period of persecution, say 300 A. D-, as the date of some of the added prayers, the body of the rite being still earlier. Birth of Schism. The condemnation of the Eutychian opinions in 451 led to the schism which detached all the Copts from Rome : yet the Copts have to this day a form of the same Sacramental Liturgy of St. Mark and St. Cyril, which was old among them then. If you go to Syria, the great " Liturgy of Jerusalem," ascribed to the tradition of St. James himself and to the direct development of the Church described in the Acts of the Apostles, is the Liturgy long used by and still preserved among the Eastern Eutychians, who therefore held it as the true tradition before 450. The Nestorians, who have been separa- ated since 431, keep to this day a related rite, named from St. Thaddaeus the Apostle. Indeed, we are told that Nes- torius was the first of the schismatics of whom it was even alleged that he had altered in the least the ancient Liturgy. It is curious to remember that the Portuguese, when they discovered Mai- 678 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. abar in the 16th century, found a native Church there using this very rite : and it is now clear that they had it from the Nestorian Church of Babylon, where it was in use before 400. But we carry this rite still further back with an absolute historic certainty : for it happens by good fortune that there are preserved to us the Sunday-school les sons of St. Cyril, who was Bishop of Jerusalem in 347. In these he actually instructs his catechumens in the ritual and meaning of the Mass, and for that purpose he explains point by point the venerable liturgy much as we have it still as the basis of a hundred local rites throughout the Catholic East. The Eucharistic Tradition. Now each of these three great normal types of the Eucharistic tradition — that of Peter at Rome, that of James at Jerusalem, that of Mark at Alexandria — is perfectly independent. No scholar can dream that any is derived from, or even moulded by any other. The hun dreds of minor variations fall to the scholars' criticism easily under one or other of these or other equally ancient types. But the types themselves are sisters not interdependent but collater al : and therefore they are sisters of a common stock. These three or four most venerable types — to leave aside the others — involve an archetype. Yet each of them by the fourth cen tury was not only established but old, and based by those who loved it upon an apostolic tradition. Who made the common archetype, I pray you, which Rome and Alexandria and Jerusalem and Babylon assume? In what com mon Eucharistic centre do these tradi tions meet ? Who taught the half-dozen I intervening generations to accept this appalling mystery with common cer tainty, as a thing not doubted even when dogmatic heresy was rife and the world rang with polemical debate — as a thing which every schismatic took with him, whatever else he left? Who taught it, I ask, or could have taught it, but the Master who, on the world- historic night, commanded them to do in memory of Him the solemn act which He did then. Fourth Century Liturgies. I have said that there is reason to believe that there was a general adapta tion of the liturgies in the fourth cen tury, when the universal spread and official acceptance of Christianity had somewhat slackened the early zeal. The main object was to shorten the great length of the earlier Eucharistic service. Most of the superficial differ ences we now observe, as distinguishing various liturgical " families," probably date from this time, for one Church dropped one detail and another dropped a different one. Before the period of these shortenings and adaptations, it is practically estab lished by the historical critics of litur gical antiquity that the usage of all the Churches was substantially and even minutely parallel ; and although no certain record of its text exists, its gen eral tenor is perfectly well known, so that we know that it contained not only all the essentials but even many curious and remarkable details of the Masses which are said in our own day. The best German scholar, in fact, who is working at this subject, has lately collected all the references of the Fathers of the first three centuries to THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 679 the liturgy they knew — and there are hundreds of such allusions — with the result that they are found to fit in with out the slightest variance with the scheme of what we take leave to call the Mass which came down from the day of the apostles. If you still doubt what I say of the Apostolic origin of the Eucharistic Act, I would have you read what is not hard of access — the Apologia of Justin, who is called the "Philosopher," addressed as early as 138 A. D. to Antonius Pius, in defence of the Christian faith. Therein, speaking generally of the existing rites, for he had lived in Syria and at Alexandria and Rome, he des cribes the outlines of the Mass. As the core and heart of it, he insists in plain terms on the doctrine of the Real Pres ence. With great simplicity and direct ness he bases both the doctrine and the office upon the institutionary words of Christ. The Ritualism of Rome. And as if to exclude any caviller who might suppose it a new idea of his own or his contemporaries, he goes on to remark as a striking fact that ' ' evil spirits ' ' (as he puts it) " have introduced this very solemnity into the mysteries of Mithra," the then fashionable ritual ism of Rome : proving so that to his knowledge, — and he was a master of all the schools before his baptism, — the Mass was older than these fantastic Eastern rites, and was in fact, as it claimed to be, the commemorative office framed by those who first received the Eucharist at the very hands of Christ. If then the equivalent of the Mass we have to-day was known as the ancient and undoubted worship of the Churches by this Syrian convert, born when John, if dead, was only just dead, and to whom John's personal disciples and the immediate followers of James and Paul must have been known, what will you say? If the "Supper of the Lord,'' which Paul was setting in order among the Christians about 50 A. r>., was not the same thing as Justin was admitted to about 120 A. d., who altered it? Author of the Fourth Gospel. Not the Beloved Disciple, or his pupil if you will, who wrote the Fourth Gospel : for the Fourth Gospel insists most markedly on this very Eucharistic doctrine. Not the Church at Rome : for there, as I have said, the traditfon was preserved by well remembered records from the joint martyrdom of Peter and Paul down to the Sacramen- tary of Gelasius. The answer is that there is no change, no innovation ; only an untiring effort to hold fast the ordi nance of the Saviour, who left it as His most precious legacy when He went out to die. Terrible it is, if you will — surpassing human speech — this heart of heavenly fire that lives within our worship. You will tell me it is vain to trace it back to the Apostles, for the thing itself is past believing. I admit that if Christ be not God, our hope is vain — our holy office, as you say, a mummery — our Communion with the Lord of Heaven and Earth a bitter fraud. But I warn you that if you come with me so far as to agree that Christ was, and that He was Divine, you must come further. If you repudiate the whole record, I understand you. But every competent critic now admits that quite worthy witnesses are before us. If you take 680 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. the witness as of any weight at all, you cannot put aside the clear consensus and willful repetition of the three Synoptics who record the words of institution: nor the still fuller and more deliberate enforcement of the same by Paul : nor, above all, that vivid dramatic sermon in the sixth of John. There, after His teaching, they asked as you do, ' ' How can this man give us his flesh to eat?'' and many of the disciples went away and walked no more with Him. He did not call them back to tell them that they misconceived, nor did He explain to the Apostles any hidden sense. He only turned sadly to the twelve, and asked " Will you too go away ?" Spokesman of the Faith. And Peter, spokesman of the faith as elsewhere, beaten down by the mystery, not understanding the hard saying any more than the seceders, answers, as we answer now, " Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life : and we believe and know that Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God." I have dwelt long upon the subject of the Mass and of the Eucharistic doc trine. It is, I think, an obvious divid ing line between those conceptions of faith and worship which in our own day are tending towards Catholicism, and those which lead away from it. I have only time to pass now to one other aspect of the Catholic Church, in which it appeals with peculiar force to the present struggling generation, and to the coming time. As the root idea of the Protestant Reformers was flat individualism, so the dominant note of the Catholic con ception of the world is solidarity. In the beginning, the Church was all but a communism. In the days of the per secution, all, without other compulsion than the love that Christ revealed, gave up their wealth to feed the needy : and this fraternal distribution was directly organized by the Church. At all times, though she was allowed private property, she has suggested that to forego it is the better way. At all times, to those who keep their own, she has preached a far-reaching duty of charity to all the world, which if it were carried out, would leave little dis parity to mourn. Universal Brotherhood. As in property, so in all else. The universal brotherhood has been to her no empty name, but a world reforming fact and law. Strongly, through bribe and menace, she has striven to uphold the equality of prince and peasant before the moral code : and it is her pride to remember that even when the hatred of the English Crown was the penalty of refusal, a weak and hunted and tormented Pope refused to mete out to the Tudor any other marriage law than would be meted out to the meanest hind within his realm. And no less is it our pride that we can say that while the Church stood upright, here and elsewhere — even to the latest hour of what they call her worst corruption — she provided for the people a career, far more sure and bet ter worth their following than the most advanced democracy has given them since. Take the great Churchmen, who, by their sheer ability and learning, did the chief part of the government of the world for many a century. They are a THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 681 noble line, promoted often to an almost royal dignity, and in the vast majority of cases for no reason except their talents or their virtues, or both : and of these men an enormous multitude are the children of the poor. There was not a country side that had not within reach its abbey or its cathedral : and where a peasant lad showed promise and desired at once to serve God and to make his life useful upon a wider plane, it was very certain he would be put to school and made a ' clerk :' and once a clerk, the Church to him was but an organized democracy, wherein nothing, even to the Papal chair, was inaccessible to merit. You have sown the land with schools: you have improved and multiplied philanthrophies: and you do well: but for all these things it was easier for the deserving helpless ones of the earth to find help in their need, and easier for those whom God endowed with power to find their rightful place, before Henry sacked the monasteries and made himself the English Pope. Equality in the Church. If you pass to social or political liber- erty it is still the same. In the Broth erhood of Christ the Church saw neither bond or free. The patriarch maiden and the slave girl, in the Acts of the Early Martyrs, meet as equals and as friends. As swiftly as human inertia allowed, the Church abolished slavery. In the home, she found woman degrad ed by the licentiousness of the age. She freed them at a stroke when she declared that marriage was a Sacra ment of God ; and when she placed above her altars, as a symbol next in holiness to the Incarnate God, her stain less ideal of womanhood and maternity, she did more to hold in check men's proneness to brutality than all the laws that ever punished crime. In our own and every other struggling common wealth, when the feudal power was at its worst, and threatened to engulf for ever the liberties of the tenants of the soil, it was the Church more than any other single force that bearded these lords of war, and made it possible for the common people to achieve their liberty. So it was the Church that gave artic ulate voice to justice and to civic reason, in adapting first and in admin istering afterwards the codes of written law : and here, as everywhere, she was but seeking, after the rough-hewn fashion of human institutions, to carry out Christ's paramount commandment — the Law of Love. Justice and Emancipation. But not only within each single state was she a power for justice and emanci pation — she was more and greater than them all. By the character of her Catholic title and her Catholic commis sion, she held up before the peoples the ideal of a world-community. Amid the lawless violence of the mail-clad cen turies, she provided at least a possible arbiter. And however men may sneer at the ambition of the Popes, the Euro pean peace would be much nearer than it is to-day if the notable example of Prince Bismarck's revival of the old pre cedents of Papal arbitration could be adopted as a commonplace of diplo macy. When the Empire fell, the Church upheld its claim. To this hour, she refuses in the name of her commission, and she will refuse, to bind herself by 682 THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. any frontiers, or to be otherwise than independent in her own field of every national government, whether it wears its crown in Rome or no. She knows that the world-progress is hampered while our narrow frontiers hedge us in with prejudice and tariffs, and our national self-seekings and dis torted patriotisms keep all the nations lowering at each other like caged beasts, and stifle industry and freedom and every noble thing beneath the immeasurable load of military prepara tion, she looks for a better time when the human Brotherhood may be, even in statecraft, a practical reality. Yet not even here can I pause. For if she prophesies of a World-State, and laughs at the little fences, statesmen draw upon the map, no less does she bid us think of even such a common wealth as but one province of the Heavenly Kingdom. " The Church " to her cannot be bounded by the narrow scene whereupon we play our parts a little while : for the Church is the body of Christ. In our Father's house there are many mansions ; and this is but the outer porch. Beyond the grave her children are not far away. Beneficent Teaching. She has taught and always teaches that they are linked to us, and we to them in that community of saints which reaches upwards to the throne of God. It may be that they, our brethren, are of the company of the Church Suffering — purging away, by what endurance and patience and travail we know not, the moral stains they carried from the warfare of the Church Militant, where we were com rades and brethren in arms. It may be that already, if with our measures we can rightly appraise what with the immortals takes the place of time, they have passed into that other company of the Church Triumphant, whose place is in the sight of God. Yet wheresoever they may be, our comrades, we can reach our hands to them and they to us, in prayer and spiritual fellowship, and unseen in God's ordering a common life goes on. Mem bers we are then, of one another — here and in the unknown: members of one transcendent spiritual yet organic whole — and that whole is the body of Christ. Tradition of Catholic Teaching. Endless, of course, are the things that yet remain to say concerning the great tradition of the Catholic teaching. Endless also, I believe, are the ways in which it would be well for us and for our children, if the Catholic Truth were so stated in our modern speech, that those who now say that every Catholic must needs be either knave or fool could understand the things that they despise. For the present purpose I am content if I have been able in any measure to set forth these three outstanding aspects of the Catholic belief — the claim of the Living Voice, the treasure of the Sacra ments, the Brotherhood of the Body of Christ. Like all else in Truth, they are but different aspects of the same thing — the application namely, of the work of Christ to the needs of all humanity. They are the same in this also, that in each there comes the note of Catholicity. In Christ all men are one — and that, not merely in any formal or theoretic unity, but in a brotherhood which, if we could once translate it into THE CHURCH CATHOLIC. 683 the formulae of government, would leave Democracies and Socialisms be hind. Those who take themselves to be the best exponents of Western civilization, have been accustomed of late to treat the Church with scant courtesy ; and I agree that if, as some of them suppose, religion, and perhaps duty also, is alto gether to vanish from the earth, then the study of Catholicism would be but a waste of energy. But if, as I believe, the moral and religious consciousness of man be no less a fact than knowledge or physical growth or life or death, then I claim that this transcendent expression of religion through the Christian centuries demands a hearing from them all. They call it dead, yet it is more alive, in the moulding of humanity, than all their schools. They say it belongs to a forgotten past, but there are not want ing signs that it shall inherit the future- In the field of ethics and religion, Eng land like the rest, is dividing rapidly into two camps — those who do and those who do not hold that religion is unnecessary and any reality of God superfluous. When that division is complete, it will be seen that the walls of the camp of the believers are but the fold of the Catholic Church. In the field of social and political relations the old order changes, day by day more swiftly. Much is gone and more will go. Surely one thing is clear: that neither just industry nor social health nor noble government is possi ble, unless we build on something better than self-seeking, and appeal to something holier than "the desire of a remembered pleasure ?' ' Individualism, and the Manchester school, and freedom of contract, and all the theories that sought justice in the war of interests and progress in the clash of infinite selfishness, are being carried out before our eyes to burial. Protestantism is fighting for its life with organic disintegration and intellec tual doubt, to which it can oppose neither a reasoned philosophy of life nor any authoritative gospel. It cannot rescue the body politic, for it cannot save itself. The masses leave it on the one side, and the leaders of opinion on the other. Is there no hope at all, of light and leadership in the coming time? I submit to you that the promises of the Messiah have not failed. His fol lowers were the social saviors of the earlier Europe : it is not more difficult to help the centuries that lie before us. That which He promised to uphold, lives on : and, gathering up the ancient truth and the modern hope, it points the nations, now as always, to that true Republic, where freedom is the law of duty ; where all are equal as the sons of God ; and where fraternity is the will ing service of the brotherhood of Christ, when the Kingdom of the Lord shall come. Make ready to welcome this blessed consummation. THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. BY THE REV. JOHN GERARD, S.J. T is obviously superfluous to begin by remarking that the question of education is at this moment very much with us, nor is it necessary to add that amongst the burning topics with which it is beset a very minor and subordinate position is assigned to those which concern education itself. The problems dealing with the best and most effective methods of converting our boys and girls into members of society such as we desire to see, and of providing for their best interests here and hereafter, seem to excite little attention beside the " religious difficul ty," which has so largely availed to set the nation by the ears, and to make the task of legislation on the subject one of which statesmen might well despair. This formidable difficulty — so far as I can pretend to comprehend it — seems to arise entirely from the contention fiercely maintained by a large and influ ential section of our community, that the most sacred rights of conscience will be violated, unless those who wish to secure for their children religious teach ing of a definite dogmatic character be compelled to pay a higher price than others for secular instruction as well ; or in other words, unless they be placed at a serious disadvantage in respect of what we are told to regard as the great est boon we can confer upon the gener. ations that are to come after us. 684 It is to this, as I have said, that the agitation so vigorously carried on seems practically to come, and manifestly it is based on the assumption that dogmatic religious teaching of any kind can have no legitimate place in education at all, being a luxury so purely superfluous that those who insist upon having it shall be compelled to purchase it at more than cost price. To discuss their assumption in all its bearings is a task foreign to my present purpose. I am now concerned with it only so far as it emphasizes and aggravates a most serious danger of which we hear little, which threatens to smuggle itself in amongst us under the shadow of education, and the possible effects of which would far more than neutralize all the benefits that are so confidently anticipated from the spread of know ledge and the culture of the mind. If by " religion " is to be understood, as must be the case when all positive teaching is eliminated, nothing more than a matter of emotion or sentiment ; if the view is to prevail, even amongst those who profess to be its friends, that it can amount to nothing more than this; if the notion is to be generally tabooed that there is any canon of truth whereby mankind are bound to regulate their belief, or any code of morality whereby they are bound to shape their conduct higher than the mere utilitarian enactments of human law — if this is to come about (as it must and will, should THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 685 definite religion be crushed out in the struggle for existence) what resistance, we must ask, can be offered to the active and aggressive school which frankly professes its detestation of religion in any form, and is zealously engaged in the endeavor to disseminate the gospel of blank materialism and unbelief espe cially amongst the young. Chronic Fault-Finding. For whilst men who would resent any suggestion that they are animated by aught but purest religous zeal are mak ing all this to-do lest others should be assisted to teach more in the way of religion than satisfies themselves, the enemy are at the gates and are sapping the very foundations of the defence in which they trust. For these assailants nothing is sacred. They would sweep away, and they boast that they will sweep away, belief in everything that we cannot see or hear or touch ; in God, in our own soul, in any existence beyond the grave. Nothing, they proclaim, is true whereof "science" can take no account — and by "science" they understand physical science alone, that of the laboratory and dissecting room. All creeds that go beyond this they term impostures, superstitiously enslaving the human mind, and of them all they would make an end. But, wiser in their generation than those others of whom we have spoken, they recognize that no effectual resist ance will be offered them save and except by that definite and authorita tive teaching which is alone practically effective amongst men. I need hardly say that in speaking thus I am not talking at random or drawing upon imagination for my facts. The infidel propaganda is very much alive. A number of persons — not, as a rule, really scientific men, but what are described as "popular scientists" — have long been engaged in its service, and have, by books and magazine articles, educated a large section of the public to believe that there is nothing to be said on the other side. Recently there has been established an associa tion, calling itself the Rationalist Press Association, for the propagation of rationalism, the list of its associates showing some men who may even be called eminent, while others may more properly claim to be notorious, or are sedulously endeavoring to become go. Propagation of Rationalism. The object of the Association is to scatter broadcast, at a price which shall put it within reach of all, anti-Christian and atheistic literature, which attacks in the name of science all supernatural belief of every description. Some of the publications already issued are un doubtedly marked by great ability, being the productions of men whose authority within their own province no one will question — as, for instance, the more combative essays of the late Pro fessor Huxley. Although in one very true sense works of this description are the most dangerous to the faith of readers who can appreciate the force but not the weakness of their arguments, even more harm will probably be done by writers of a lower stamp, who rely for effective ness upon the profanity and scurrility of their style, and endeavor to discredit the beliefs they dislike by speaking of them in whatever terms are most cal- 686 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. culated to grieve and shock their adher ents. Of this kind of thing there is a great deal more than would generally be supposed, and in particular, great efforts are made to put it in the hands of boys and girls at school — to such an extent, indeed, that those teachers who under stand the responsibility which is involv ed in the guardianship of youth are obliged to be continually on the watch against its introduction. An Objectionable Propaganda. The same must be said of another abominable propaganda, which is also specially directed against the young, for whom, as schoolmasters know only too well, a supply of immoral literature and art is deliberately organized, com ing largely from abroad. No doubt many of those who push this diabolical trade have no other object than sordid gain, and strive to secure what may fitly be described as filthy lucre by trading upon the frailties and follies of our nature at its most dangerous stage. None the less, however, there are those who endeavor to make this garbage look respectable by associating it with the name of science. It is moreover true that even in the case of some of the more popular of our " popular scientists," the emancipation of morals which is a necessary conse quence of religious unbelief would seem to be its great attraction. There are well-known writers of this school whose works are never free from the slime of the serpent, and who love to proclaim, as the ultimate result of scientific enlightenment, that nothing is sinful but what men choose so to regard, and that what those around us are willing to tolerate we need have no hesitation in doing. Occasionally, indeed, they speak yet more plainly as did one of their best- known representatives, now deceased, when he complained that in England liberty of speech and thought is un known, inasmuch as the statute which is in force against obscene publications causes men to be put in prison " for saying anything worth hearing," which would reduce the topics worth talking about very low, in every sense of the word. In view of all this, and of the scoffing, sceptical spirit which pervades so large a section of our periodical literature, who that holds faith for the most preci ous treasure bestowed on the children of men can fail to be filled with apprehension for the outlook before us ? The skeptical spirit is evident. Apprehension Turned to Despair. And must not apprehension turn to despair if it is to be rendered practically impossible to fortify young minds against the assaults they will have to withstand with such instruction as may enable them to give a reasonable account of the faith which is in them, and (what is still more important) un less we can bring them up in an atmos phere which will enable the true spirit of their religion to sink deep into their souls ? But here again, I must not go beyond the topic assigned me. As I have said> I am not here to discuss the religious difficulty, and to urge once more our right to have our schools placed, so far as secular education is concerned, on precisely the same footing as any others ; it is my task at present to say THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 687 something of the character of the attacks made upon religion in the name of science, and to point out some con siderations of which we must not lose sight, and which may largely avail to blunt the edge of the weapons so vigor ously directed against us. Agents of Immorality. In the first place, I would observe that although, as has been said, the danger may practically be greater from enemies of the baser kind, who employ ribaldry and obscenity as auxiliaries, it is not with them that I propose to deal. Against antagonists of this description, argument is in vain. The only safe guard against their insiduous advances is to do all in our power to instil into the minds of our children genuine faith and solid piety, whilst at the same time we use every means to checkmate the agents of this detestable and nefarious trade. It is otherwise with those of whom I spoke first, whom, although we differ from them radically and fundamentally as to all which it most concerns men to know, we willingly acknowledge to be really scientific men, and whose authority within the fields which they have made their own we ungrudgingly admit. They deliver their attack in the name of reason, and they must be met with their own weapons, reason being turned against them, if they are effectively to be met at all. It is quite impossible for us, especially in view of the active propaganda going on, either to be unaware of what they say or to ignore it. Though they are far more reputable antagonists than the others, they are often scarcely less bit ter, and assume an attitude towards our most sacred beliefs which any thinking man must find simply intolerable. They start with the assumption, which they are strenuous in proclaiming, that supernatural religion of every kind is irrational ; that there is nothing to be said for it which can hold water for a moment ; that if men really believe in such creeds as we profess they must be blockheads who do not know how to think; and that no one who has dealt with nature, after the methods of mod ern science, can be thus hood-winked for an instant. All this sort of thing is not merely extremely irritating to those who have the finger of scorn thus pointed at them, but is likewise in direct contradiction to what Holy Writ tells us should be the effect of a study of the world in which we dwell — namely, as our poet sums it up, "to look through Nature up to Nature's God." When we are told that " science " has dealt a death blow to any such notion, we naturally must inquire how this comes about. Science and Theology. As an exponent of the so-called scientific school, no more fitting repre sentative can be cited than the late Professor Huxley. He was undoubtedly an eminent man of science,, and he had a remarkable gift of language, which enabled him to say very clearly what ever was clear to his own mind, a gift which he freely used to tell those from whom he differed what he thought of them. His own position he described as "agnostic," explaining that by this term he signified his conviction that beyond the domain of sense and science" there is nothing we can know, and that to pretend to know what 688 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. we cannot know is an absurdity of which none can be guilty who are not either knaves or fools. Consequently he proclaimed war, in the name of scientific enlightenment, against the profession of supernatural religion in every shape, in particular against dogmatic Christianity, of which, however, he was clear-sighted enough to see that from one form alone was any serious opposition to be anticipated, which could avail to check the spread of the creed of mere naturalism. This one serious adver sary was the Catholic Church, which, exactly knowing her own mind teaches a precise and definite creed, and will tolerate no departure from the doctrine of which she claims to be the guardian. Therefore, in the eyes of the Profes sor, was she formidable, and therefore also was she hateful. As he said in a well known passage: "Our great antag onist — I speak as a man of science — [is] the Roman Catholic Church, the one great spiritual organization which is able to resist, and must as a matter of life and death resist, the progress of science and modern civilization." The Doctrine of Intolerance. Accordingly, in spite of the claims of free thought, of which he proclaimed himself so vehement a champion, Hux ley did not hesitate to avow his opinion that the Church ought not to be toler ated, and, no less than those who at the present moment advocate the same course on the ground of religious scruples, he would refuse public assist ance to her schools in the name of "scientific" unbelief. This view he expressed in the year 1 87 1 in a speech before the London School Board, of which he was then a member, at the same time indicating the malignant influence to which the mischief should specially be ascribed, namely, I need scarcely say, that of the Society to which I myself belong. His words are thus recorded in The London Times, a very reliable journal. Catholicism Berated. ' ' He held it as a strict act of faith that in the whole world there was no engine so carefully designed and calcu lated for the destruction of all that was highest in the moral nature as well as the intellectual freedom and political freedom of mankind, as the engine which was worked by the ultramontane section of the Roman Catholic Church. The power of the Church of Rome was wielded by Jesuits, who constantly strove to keep down the minds of the people. He did not hesitate to say that if he was in power he would withhold aid to that organization, for he did not consider it liberal to tolerate anything which stood against the interests of mankind, and he entered his protest against any subsidizing of this power." In the same spirit we find that in one of the letters published in his life, Pro fessor Huxley speaks of the Catholic Church as " that damnable perverter of mankind," of which description he pro fesses to find ample justification in the condition of drivelling imbecility to which it reduced the intellect of Cardinal Newman. Nor is this author by any means solitary in the assumption that it is obviously irrational to pretend to any knowledge beyond that which we may attain by the methods of physical THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 689 science. To quote but one witness, who may stand for many — in his inaug ural address at Belfast the President of the British Association, Professor Dew- ar, eulogized and fully endorsed the doctrine of his predecessor, Professor Tyndall, twenty-eight years ago — "We claim and we shall wrest from theology the entire domain of cosmological theo ry ; " to which it was added that in order to elevate life we must begin by "throw ing overboard the malign residuum of dogmatism, fanaticism, and intoler ance. ' ' Such is his language. Respectable Opponents. It is, therefore, no shadowy or imagi nary opponents that we have to face, but men who stand high in the scienti fic world, whose authority, as I have already observed, is pre-eminent in the fields of research they have respectively pursued, and whose well-earned reputa tion may easily appear to invest such utterances as we have heard with the cogency claimed for them by those who would eliminate from the world all in which Christians find their solace and their hope. What then, we are bound to ask our selves, are the grounds upon which philosophers of the school with which we are concerned base their confident assumption as to the inanity of our position and the impregnability of their own? It is to be remarked at starting, that our opponents evidently imagine that all who admit the claims of faith necessarily renounce those of reason; and that we Christians are so perverse and preposterous a set of people that we boast, as if it were something to be proud of, that we have nothing in the 44-C P Vol. 2 way of solid argument to show on be half of the belief we profess. I need not say that such an idea is the exact reverse of the truth. Faith and Good Works. As Archbishop Mignot, of Albi, has well put it, "We believe, because the motives for believing appear to us more weighty than those for not believing — just as we perform good actions because the motives for these actions seem better than those which would move us to act ill or to abstain from action al together." It is only because we are convinced that faith is the perfection and the crown of reason that we can as thinking men, embrace it. And on the other hand, as regards the arguments of the opposite side, however eminent be the names under the aegis of which they present them selves, the real difficulty of those trained in the fundamental philosophy which we learn from our Catechism is to understand how, on our adversaries' own showing, such arguments can be supposed to touch the question at all, or in what manner the wonderful researches and discoveries of modern science can be said to have done any thing but enhance the force of the les sons which Nature teaches us concern ing the Author from whom she has de rived her existence and her powers. From the time when men began to think, it has been urged by philosophers that the phenomena of nature compel us as reasonable men to believe in a Supreme Being, almighty and all-wise, to whom is due the world of law and order which we behold. Such was the argument urged, not only in Holy Scripture, in a well-known passage of 690 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. Wisdom, and by St. Paul, but likewise by heathen philosophers such as Cicero, who declares the matter to be so per fectly obvious that any one who denies the Divinity may be expected likewise to deny that there is a sun in the heav ens, the one being no more evident than the other. Natural Science and Theology. Such likewise, to name no other, was the judgment of the greatest man of science who ever lived — Sir Isaac Newton — who declares that the study of natural science necessarily leads us to the recognition of God, and of that eter nal power and wisdom whence alone the universe can have originated. What has the newer science to show in virtue of which she claims to nullify all the teachings of nature, upon which such thinkers relied ? It is all due, we are assured, to what Professor Dewar styles ' ' the sunrise of the doctrine of Evolution." This, it is averred, has in these latter days bathed the intellectual world in light such as men never dreamed of before, and with the darkness which it has dispelled, must go the old-fashioned follies and fancies which mental obscurity alone begot. To a consideration of this illuminating doctrine we must there fore turn. In approaching a subject of which so much is said and written, but often with a lack of precision and accuracy of language whence much confusion of necessity results, I desire to present the evolutionist case in such a manner as shall satisfy the most ardent evolu tionists, and to assume, at least for the sake of argument, that all things have happened as they suppose. I will therefore say nothing at present of the objections which are brought by eminent men of science themselves, to show that the actual history of life upon earth is incompatible with the series of generic developments of one form from another, through which the evolutionary hypothesis would derive all plants and animals, and upon the assumed reality of which the truth or falsehood of that hypothesis entirely depends. Let evolutionists have it their own way from end to end of the story: to what does the tale they have to tell us amount ? and in what manner does it serve to reverse the verdict of the Wise Man when he pronounced that " All men are vain in whom there is not the knowledge of God, and who by these good things that are seen could not un derstand Him that is, neither by attend ing to the works have acknowledged Him who was the Workman." The Doctrine of Evolution. The evolutionary theory in its ex- tremest form, in which alone I shall at present consider it, teaches, as we learn from its most authoritative ex ponents, that the whole world, whether lifeless or living, has worked itself out, from the embryonic condition in which it once existed to that with which we are familiar, by means of laws which are purely natural, being essentially the same as those which still govern its operations and which are inherent within itself; and, moreover, this has been done without the intervention or interference of any agent or any force beyond those which we find inevitably bound up with matter, as gravitation, heat, electricity, chemical and affinity. THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 691 Consequently, writers such as the late Professor Romanes bid us take it as a truth beyond question that from the beginning Nature has worked through a succession of causes and effects such as those the investigation of which is the peculiar province of science, and that we need no more than these to explain the totality of things. The natural consequence of such a doctrine as understood by the same author may here be quoted, al though he himself lived long enough to abandon its main article. Dangers of Naturalism. "All Nature," he wrote in 1892, " has thus been transformed before the view of the present generation in a manner and to an extent that has never before been possible ; and inasmuch as the change which has taken place has taken place in the direction of natu ralism, and this to the extent of ren dering the mechanical interpretation of Nature universal, it is no wonder if the religious mind has suddenly awakened to a new and terrible force in the words of its traditional enemy — Where is now thy God?" Precisely similar is the teaching of Professor Huxley. " The fundamental proposition of evolution," he tells us, " is that the whole world, living and not living, is the result of the mutual inter action, according to definite laws, of the forces possessed by the molecules of which the primitive nebulosity was composed." If this is true, he continues, it is no less certain that the existing world lay potentially in the cosmic vapor, and that a sufficient intelligence could, from a knowledge of the molecular arrang- ment and the properties of that vapor, have predicted exactly what the world would be like at any moment of its history ; for instance, what animals and plants would be found in Britain at the present day. It was on the same ground that Pro fessor Tyndall based the celebrated de claration uttered in his Belfast address, and quoted with approval by Professor Dewar, " that matter itself must be re garded as containing the promise and potency of all terrestrial life." We may satisfy ourselves with one more account of the lesson which we are told that science teaches us. It is thus given by the late Samuel Lauig in his "Modern Science and Modern Thought, " a cheap edition of which is amongst the publications of the Ra tionalist Press Association. The Universe a Perfect Clock. "What we really can see [he tells us] is that throughout the whole of this enormous range of space and time law prevails; that, given the original atoms and energies with their original quali ties, everything else follows in a regular and inevitable succession; and that the whole material universe is a clock so perfectly constructed from the beginning as to require no outside interference during the time it has run to keep it going with absolute correctness. " This, hard as it may seem to credit the statement, is the final term of the new philosophy. We have all doubt less been waiting in anxious expecta tion for that to which all we have heard might naturally be supposed to be the prelude ; for the appearance of the factor which dispenses with the 692 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. need of a Creator and Architect of the Universe ; for a specimen of the light which, as we are told, science throws upon its birth. But this is all in the' way of explanation we are ever going to get, and I am greatly mistaken if it seems to any of us to be any sort of explanation at all. An Apposite Comparison. Doubtless — to take Mr. Laing's com parison, which, as we shall see, is most apposite — if we have a clock well made and wound up, we may be sure that it will go, and we shall know where its fingers will be at any hour, and how it will strike. But this fact does not tell us how the clock came to be made and how to be wound up ; we can be certain only that it had a maker and also had a winder. And so in the same way if, as Profes sor Huxley and Mr. Laing tell us, the nebula which they postulate as the primitive condition of the world was a machine the working whereof depended upon the arrangement and the qualities of its component parts, and if it was so perfectly adjusted as to have gone ever since — without a stop and without an error — through inconceivable myriads of operations and developments : what are we to think of the method of reasoning which concludes therefrom that this clock at least requires no clockmaker, and that in our inquiry as to its origin we need go no further than itself? I have already ventured to assert that, far from doing away with the argument from the need of a first cause upon which philosophers have ever re lied, the discoveries of modern science have served on the contrary to bring that argument home to us more forcibly than ever. To understand this, we must consider three features which, as evolutionists tell us, have to be taken for granted as existing in this primitive nebula from which the world was developed, at the first moment at which they can say any thing about it, and in virtue of which alone it was capable of doing the work which they assume that it has done. Firstly, the particles — atoms and molecules — of which it is ultimately composed must then have been separat ed far from one another, and instead of being condensed, as now, into bodies comparatively solid, as the sun and planets, it must have extended as a vapor or cloud beyond the limits of the outermost planetary orbit. The Infinity of Nature. Secondly, this huge mass must have been in motion, rotating with enormous velocity upon one particular axis out of the infinite multitude of axes which would seem all equally proper for such a function. Thirdly, as we have already heard, the particles composing the nebula must have been "arranged" in such a manner as to produce a certain definite effect. All of these conditions are absolutely essential for the supposition that the machine has acted as we are told. Had not the particles been far apart, there would not have been that store of energy to draw upon to which it is due that all the work can be done which makes life possible, just as a clock cannot go unless its weights be drawn up from the earth and have room to run down again. Had there THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 693 been no motion or rotation to impart a centrifugal force, the mutual attraction of the particles would have brought them at once together into a mass solid and inert, and condemned to eternal sterility. Finally, had not the particles been possessed of various properties and been variously disposed, none of the results could have followed which we have heard attributed to those properties and that arrangement. Matter and Motion. But whilst the above conditions are one and all imperatively postulated by evolutionary theory, it is no less certain that, far from disclosing any manner in which the material Universe could thus set itself in order for the work to be done, the discoveries of modern science have on the contrary demonstrated the impossibility of any such process. In the first place, matter, as science gives us to know it, could no more thrust its component particles asunder than a clock could wind up its own weights, or a mill-wheel could pump up to the reservoir whence it came the water by which it is driven. It is only because the particles are far apart, whilst their mutual attraction continually tends to draw them together, that the material Universe possesses any power of doing work, or energy, as it is termed. This energy it neces sarily spends or dissipates in every operation it performs, and energy once spent it can never recover ; and so in the beginning it can by no possibility have provided itself with energy. Such is, in brief, the sum and sub. stance of the great law of the dissipation of energy, our knowledge of which we owe chiefly to Lord Kelvin, and which now ranks with Newton's Law of Uni versal Gravitation. It is this law which assures us that the material Universe, no less than articles which we our selves manufacture, had a definite beginning, when it found itself en dowed with capabilities of work which it can only exhaust in the working, and never renew, and that consequently it is ever approaching a no less definite end. As Lord Kelvin himself puts it, we thus become absolutely certain that it is as a lighted taper which cannot have been burning for ever, and which one day must cease to burn. Root of Scientific Knowledge.* So much for the original position of the particles, and so too is it with the condition of motion in which the mass, which they compose, originally found itself. It is again from those laws, the discovery wherof science claims as her greatest triumph, that we know the production of such motion to be utterly beyond the forces inherent in matter, for Newton's first law, which, I need not say, lies at the root of all our scientific knowledge, lays it down as a first principle that if a body be not already in motion, unless compelled to move by the application of some force, move it never will. Such being the case, we necessarily ask of those who speak so confidently of the discoveries of science as afford ing us an ultimate explanation of the Universe which satisfies the human reason and excludes the notion of aught beyond matter and its proper ties, whether they have not something in reserve which shall serve at least to suggest how that initial condition came 694 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. about to which, as they assure us, all else is to be ascribed. To such a question, no other answer is forthcoming than that on this subject we know nothing at all, and that our ignorance is so absolute and so utter as to relieve us from the obligation of inquiring any farther. Such appears to be the position taken up by Pro fessor Tyndall when he avowed that after all which has been achieved by the theory of development " the whole process of evolution is the manifestation of a power absolutely inscrutable to the intellect of man" — an "honor able admission, ' ' says Professor Dewar, "which shows how willingly he ac knowledged the necessary limits of scientific inquiry." The Material Universe. But willingness to acknowledge any such limitations is not at all what we have hitherto encountered in our study of evolutionist utterances, and if beyond the point to which it is possible to trace, even in imagination, the history of the material Universe, a power has to be recognized which those who rely upon physical science alone must needs pronounce " absolutely inscrutable " to their intellect, how comes it that they can be so very positive as we have seen as to the erroneousness of views concerning it other than their own ? It is unnecessary to dwell upon the answer to the difficulties reviewed above, which would appear to have contented Professor Huxley. He fully admitted that the material Uni verse is not, and cannot be, eternal; that the phenomena which it exhibits prove conclusively that it had a begin ning and will have an end. Its beginning was, of course, that cosmic nebula which has engaged so much of our attention, but any farther solicitude in its regard is, he seems to say, to be dismissed as superfluous, in asmuch as the time which has since elapsed is so enormous as to constitute " a practical eternity. " What such a plea may signify who shall say, or how it deserves to be considered scientific ? On the other hand, it is hard to understand how in adopting the line of reasoning which leads us from matter to spirit, and from nature to God, we are doing aught but pursuing the very method ou which, as we are constantly assured, science bids us rely, to the exclusion of all others. This method is to follow up rigorously the chain which links effect to cause, remembering that nothing can begin to be without a cause, and a cause moreover, possessing all the attributes which are required to account for the result produced. Cause and Effect. And if the first condition of the world was indeed a nebula so ordered and constituted as we have heard, such a condition demanding a cause to ac count for it no less than any other phenomenon whatever, and physical laws being confessedly impotent to ad vance us a step further, is it not plain that our reason compels us to discern beyond, however inadequately, an ulti mate cause supereminently possessed of all the powers and excellencies which nature everywhere displays, unalloyed by the limitations and deficiencies with which we find them associated in the material world, a power transcending all physical forces and using them as THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 695 tools — in other words, the artificer who could make the clock of the Universe and set it going ? That this is at any rate a " reason able hypothesis," and one that meets the facts, we have the testimony of so bitter an opponent of religious belief in any form as the late Professor Clif ford; and in regard of its claim to acceptance as compared with the other doctrine we have been considering, it is not easy to see how any answer but one can be returned to the straightforward question of Bishop Butler: "Will any man in his senses say that it is less difficult to conceive how the world came to be and to continue as it is with out an intelligent author and governor than with one ?' ' The Beginning of Time. But we have not yet given attention to the third of the conditious which, as we are told, must have been present in the first beginning of the material Universe, and to which all subsequent developments are due. Not only must there have been motion imparted to the mass by some force other than its own, and must those particles have been thrust asunder which can only draw inevitably together, they must likewise have been so disposed or arranged as to produce, with mathe matical certainty, that infinite series of effects which have gone to the making of every natural phenomenon, every plant and every animal that has ever been on earth. And here if, as we are bidden, we are still to trace effect to cause, with experience and not fancy for our guide, what does our experience tell us of the kind of cause that is capable of produc ing machinery the various parts of which are so adjusted as to ensure that it shall turn out definite and orderly work? And hence it is that we arrive, by the scientific method of reasoning at a fuller, though still most inadequate, idea of the First Cause, or God, as our natural faculties enable us to know Him. The argument is forcibly expressed in an utterance ascribed to the great Napoleon : " As for me, my religion is simple enough. I behold this Universe so vast, so complex, so harmonious, so immeasurably surpassing the most wonderful product of our hands ; and I say to myself, This is not the work* of anything but an intelligence as much superior to ours as the system of the heavens is superior to our most cun ningly devised machinery." Primary Essentials of Man. Be it remembered, too, that in the first condition of the world there must have somehow been existent, not only life, sensibility, and reason, but every mental and spiritual quality besides which furnishes the highest endow ment of that human nature in which naturalistic philosophers find the crown of evolution. Talents of every sort, wisdom, moral goodness, artistic power, genius, virtue, valor — and all the rest, including con science itself — are amongst the products that have to be accounted for, and which evolutionary philosophy, to be consistent with itself, must suppose to have been contained in the primitive nebulosity, and to have been ground out as time went on by the interaction of its molecules, for according to a 696 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. common sense adage, nothing is to be got out of a sack except what is in it, and whatever now exists must have existed from the beginning, either in itself or in a cause capable of pro ducing it. Is this really a more reasonable ac count of the matter than that which tells us that every good thing in creation is a reflection of the infinite goodness of Him from whom it has its being? We certainly think not. An Outline of History. I have thus attempted very briefly to sketch an outline of the system which we are told must compel the assent of all reasonable men, and make it im possible for them to believe any longer in what science proves to be mere de lusion. I have endeavored to do so with all possible fairness to our op ponents, for to misrepresent their position would be no less foolish than dishonorable. I think, moreover, that the more exactly the said position is delineated, the more clearly do its fatal defects become manifest. I would ask to be allowed to conclude with one or two observations, which shall be as brief as I can make them. In the sketch of the evolutionary hypothesis discussed above, everything, as I remarked at starting, has been conceded to its advocates which can serve to make their path clear and straight. And yet there are obstacles in it which on their own principles they must find it difficult to get over. Such, for example, is the origin of life. According to the theory as we have heard it, life nust have somehow come automatically out of the cosmic vapor, and have arisen in the natural sequence of causes and effects, such as we can observe to-day. But if there is one thing more than another upon which modern biologists are agreed, it is that life comes only from life — and on this point those very biologists are most insistent who are also evolutionists; so that, in the words of Professor Tait: "To say that even the lowest forms of life can be fully ex plained on physical principles alone is simply unscientific. There is abso lutely nothing kuown in physical science which can lend the slightest sup port to such an idea." Physical Science a Mystery. How, then, do they bridge the gulf between the living and the non-living ? Either by a mere confession of ignor ance, and a declaration that it is no business of theirs to account for origins, or by supposing that in ages past mat ter had potencies which it no longer possesses, and could give birth to living things whilst remaining itself inani mate. In either case they rely on a mode of argument, if so it may be called, the like of which they would certainly denounce as unscientific if employed by their antagonists. And again, whilst these same philos ophers are in the habit of taunting us with our attachment to beliefs for which, as they say, we have no reason to show, it appears quite clear that their own attachment to the articles of their faith is considerably in excess of the evidence regarding them. Let us take, as a primary instance, the great central doctrine of evolution itself in its more restricted sense, that is to say the origin of the various kinds of plants and animals by descent from a common THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 697 ancestor, in which doctrine every good evolutionist believes as the central pillar of the temple of truth. Now as to this doctrine I desire not to be misunderstood. Far be it from me to say that it is impossible that it should be true — on the contrary, look ing at the thing a priori one would say that it is far more in accordance with the general method of Nature that things should have proceeded in such a manner; and if sufficient evidence should be forthcoming I am quite ready to be convinced. But that such evidence has as yet been brought I fail to see. It is doubtless certain that the history of life upon earth has been one of consistent development — the forms of plants and animals alike having progressed in successive ages from lower to higher, as we find them exhibited in our systematized class- books or museums. History of the Horse. But this does not necessarily mean that the higher grew out of the lower, and although there are doubtless many arguments brought in favor of such a supposition, there are other arguments which tell the other way, and there are those who consider that these latter are the stronger. It is true that having examined the past history of the horse tribe Professor Huxley sums up the case by saying: " In fact the whole evi dence is in favor of evolution, and there is none against it." But it is equally true that another eminent authority, Mr. Carruthers, as a result of a careful survey of fossil botan ical evidence, comes to a precisely con trary conclusion :" The whole evi dence," he says, "is against evolution, and there is none in favor of it." And he is none the less eminent as a man of science because he has not courted popularity on the platform or in the press. Those who follow out the chains of reasoning which in these cases lead respectively to such divergent judg ments, will, of course, judge for them selves which seem the more cogent; but at least it would appear that the very foundation of all evolutionary doctrine can hardly be said to be so firmly established beyond all possible question as, to hear evolutionists talk we should be inclined to assume. Origin of Species. And if this be true of " evolution " in general, what of Darwinism in par ticular? This question I notice only as furnishing another instance of the need we have of caution in accepting as established all that we hear. Is it not a fact that nine persons out of ten who mention the name of Darwin, assume that the theory which he put forth to explain the Origin of Species still holds its own in the world of science, and that by its discovery all mystery has been banished from the realm of life ? Lef us listen to wit nesses who can be suspected of no hostile bias. On the occasion of the Centenary meeting of the Linnean Society, May 24, 1888, the late Sir William Flower, in the course of an eulogium on Mr. Darwin, spoke thus : "Many of us deem it best to rest with suspended judgment, not only upon his but upon the various other hypotheses put forward to account for the Origin of Species. His researches 698 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. and the consequences of them have made us realize in fuller measure than ever before the depth of the still un- fathomed mysteries that confront us everywhere. Though Darwin did not tear down the curtain which obscures our gaze into the past and lay bare to our vision the birth of life, and all its various manifestations upon earth, as has been too rashly said by some of his too enthusiastic disciples, he lifted the veil here and there, and gave us glimp ses into regions that invite our labor to cultivate. " At the anniversary meeting of the same Society, the President, Professor Vines, in his annual address made these noteworthy admissions: i. It is established that Natural Se lection, though it may have perpetuat ed species, cannot have originated any. Mystery of Evolution. 2. It is still a mystery why Evolu tion should tend from the lower to the higher, from simple to complex organ isms. 3. The facts seem to admit of no other interpretation than that variation is not, as Darwin supposed, indeter minate, but that there is in living matter an inherent determination in favor of variation in the higher direc tion. If, therefore, it can be held to be established that Darwin's theory of the Origin of Species, whatever else it may explain, does not explain that origin, and if science can give no explanation of the fact that Evolution evolves such a world as we see without the intro duction of a factor of which she can give no explanation, how can it be pre tended that physical research casts any light upon the abyss of mystery whence the universe must already have emerged ere physical science can take account of it all? And how, I ask once again, do the most signal triumphs of the human intellect in the field of science do aught but lend fresh force and weight to the words of the Wise Man: "For by the greatness of the beauty of the creature, the Creator of them may be seen, so as to be known thereby " ? God in Holy Writ. From the physical universe our ap peal must be to God in Holy Writ. Holy Scripture is full of the nothing ness of the life of man. It is as the va por of smoke ; the grass of the field, that flourishes for a while and is cut down and cast into the oven ; the guest of a day ; a tent pitched for the night which on the morrow has passed on its way. However large a space a man may have filled in the world, behold ! his place knoweth him no more. The pagan world bears the same witness, Homer chants his dirge over the generation of mankind, succeeding one another like the forest leaves : and Theocritus mourns that, while the plants revive after their winter death, for man there is no second spring. This, my brethern, is scarcely to live, to be — this hesitating attempt at life. In contrast we have the fulness of the life of God, who of His very essence is and must ever be : who has a total sim ultaneous possession of all that is meant by life. Of whom we read in the Psalms : " In the beginning, O Lord, Thou foundest the earth: and the heavens are the work of Thy hands. They shall change, but Thou remainest, THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. 699 and all of them shall grow old as a garment: and as a vesture Thou shalt change them and they shall be changed. But Thou art always the selfsame and Thy years shall not fail. It is thus that God presents Himself to His creatures, to tell them what they are, whence they have come and whither they are going. Left to themselves they can but compose their dreary epi taph "From nothing to nothing"; whereas we Christians are able to re cognize our progress from God's own hand, the Creator, to God's own hand, the Consummator. Golden Welcome of Eternity. The boundary of life's vista is no longer the tomb shadowed by cypresses and eloquent with the sentimental re grets of sorrowing friends. It loses it self in the golden welcome of eternity, the promise of the dawn behind the sunset. This life is no more the mere presentation of a flat, particolored sur face, but is broken up into distances of infinite variety, to which the present only serves as a foreground. One may be tempted to complain that the Divine message had a rhetoric in the time of Moses, which it lacks now. Preceding and overshadowing the mys tical title of my text comes God's claim to be the tribal God, the God of Abra ham, Isaac and Jacob ; the God who will condescend to fight the battles of Israel against the nations and their gods that inhabit round about ; who did in fact vindicate His message by delivering His people with a strong arm from the grind ing slavery of Egypt, and establishing them in a land flowing with milk and honey. Where, we may ask, is there for us a corresponding security, such as prudent men are inclined to seek, for the far-off fulfilment of a splendid pro mise? I would suggest that we have the se curity that the Israelites had, if we be lieve their story; that the tradition of God's people through Old and New Testaments and the ages of the Chris tian Church is substantially one (such episodes as the Protestant Reformation notwithstanding), unless we are to stand each one apart and isolated, and there is to be no ethical solidarity in mankind. Moreover, we have a guarantee in the spiritual order, a dispensation conspicu ously making for righteousness as noth ing else recorded does ; with which the highest aspirations of the race are iden tified, with which all who love their kind would wish to identify themselves. Christianity as a New Departure. If we regard Christianity as a new de parture, as it certainly was in a great measure, we must admit that the devel opment — the knowledge of God in His true nature, as the God, not of one na tion only, but of heaven and of all the tribes of earth — has made any special championship of his own people in the physical arena now somewhat out of place. Yet, even apart from the spiritual triumph of Christendom, we can appeal to certain temporal blessings, at least blessings which have a very obvious temporal aspect, such as the elevation of woman, the amelioration and ultimate extinction of the worst conditions of slavery and the care of the sick and needy ; and in general we can appeal to the startling fulfilment of our Lord's promise, " Fear not, little flock, for it has pleased the father to give you the kingdom," originally uttered at a 700 THE WORLD AND ITS MAKER. time when His servants were so few and feeble. These may be regarded as the equivalent to the deliverance from Egypt, as a pledge for the complete accomplishment of God's promises. It is surely a fantastic, unwholesome appetite that would find in the sacred Books of Buddha or in the Koran a set off to the scriptural tradition. Ours is incomparably the largest and sanest enthusiasm of which the world has any experience, and one which has stood the brunt of the extremest variations of time and circumstances. Its temporary and partial defections only testify, by the completeness of their recovery, to the strength of its constitution. The Worship of Mankind. The God of Holy Scripture, both in the Old and New Testaments, is present ed to us at once as the object of our fear and of our love, as a jealous God sternly upholding His right, His exclusive right to the worship of mankind; who claims a universal sway and a universal posses sion in the lives and goods of His sub jects. And yet, as a God of loving- kindness, whose mercy endureth for ever, who is ever ready to forgive those who plead for pardon and are sincerely penitent, whilst exacting the uttermost farthing from the stubborn and the rebellious. " For thus saith the high and the sublime One that inhabiteth eternity ; and His name is holy who dwelleth in the high and holy place, and with a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to give life to the heart of the contrite.' ' Man's attempt to render God, even though God inspire and bless the work, must needs be rude and unfinished. And there is a modern type of religion ist who aims at refining these rough scriptural outlines, and has succeeded in reducing the rude image to a cheap presentment of Father Christmas, with his indiscriminate welcome to all comers. The element of fear is wholly wanting, and this not in virtue of an increasing love which casteth out fear, but of a love that is so mean and paltry that it has no knowledge of its own de ficiency, nor any jealousy for the honor of Him who is supposed to be its object. Doubtless there is a higher element than fear in love, namely, the love it self ; but to cast out fear is for the sin ner but too often to cast out reverence, and on the plea of intimacy to appear at the feast without the wedding garment. This gift of eternal life by which we share in the life of God is, instinc tively at least, even if not consciously, the supreme object of human desire. Men may be weary of this life but not of living. They may desire rest, and a speedy quittance of certain evils that attend upon life. They may shrink with something like repulsion from the suggestion that they should live it all over again with new surroundings, as from an infidelity to their friends and companions of the past. They expect their Master to bring forth from His treasury things old as well as new ; and they accept His prom ise, Ecce nova facio omnia, " Behold I make all things new," as in no sense derogatory to the identity of what is old, of what of old they have loved. Their eternal day is interwoven of morn ing and evening like the days of Par adise, of spring and autumn, of hope and memory. No, they are not sated with living ; death, the cessation of life, can have no possible attraction, save as the door to a fresh life. A Concise Dictionary for Catholics. EDITED BY CHARLES HENRY BOWDEN, OF THE ORATORY. HIS little Dictionary has been complied to contain the special terms com monly met with by Catholics in their reading and religious instruction. The meaning and explanation given are short and concise, so that it may find a place in the home as a handy and useful book of reference. Abbot. — The head of one of the large monasteries; he is specially blessed; often has the right to wear a mitre. Abjuration. — The renouncing of false doctrine required from heretics on their being reconciled to the Church. Ablution. — Washing, a term especial ly applied to the purifying of the priest's fingers after the Communion in the Mass. Absolution. — The forgiveness of sins by the priest in the sacrament of penance. Abstinence, Days of. — When meat is not permitted. Accidents, Eucharistic. — Though an accident cannot naturally exist by itself, in the Holy Sacrament the ac cidents of bread and wine remain after these substances have ceased to exist, being sustained by divine power. Our Lord is to them instead of a substance. They lean upon Him, yet do not touch Him: and as in the Incarnation the Sacred Humanity has no human person to support it, so in Transubstantiation the accidents are without a sub stance to uphold them. Acolyte. — 'One of the minor Orders; term also used for servers at the altar in general. Actual Grace. — The supernatural aid necessary for any good action. Actual Sin. — Every sin which we our selves commit. Actual sin is divid ed into mortal and venial sin Ad Limina Apostolorum. — To the threshold of the Apostles, a term used for visits to Rome, especially those made officially by bishops and others. • Adoration of the Cross. — Part of the office on Good Friday, when the Crucifix is unveiled, and kissed by the clergy and people. Advent. — First or second coming of Christ; the penitential season be fore Christmas. Affinity. — All who are related by blood to the husband are related in the same degree, by affinity, to the wife ; and vice versa. In baptism1 and con firmation the minister and the spon sors contract a spiritual affinity with the child and its parents, so that be tween them no marriage can be law fully or validly contracted. Agnostic. — One who disclaims any knowledge of God, or of the origin of the universe. Agnus Dei. — A triple prayer occurring in the Mass and at the end of Litan ies ; wax stamped with the image of the "Lamb of God," and blessed by the Pope every seventh year Alb. — A vestment of white linen reach ing to the feet, worn by the priest at Mass. It is symbolical of innocence Alienation. — The transfer to another of dominion, usufruct, or right as to property; alienation of ecclesiastical goods is forbidden by divine, civil and canon law unless with just 701 702 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. cause, due formality observed, and the consent of the Holy See. Alleluia. — From two Hebrew words meaning "Praise the Lord," an eja culation used during joyful seasons. St. John heard the angels singing in heaven (Apoc. xix. i), and in St. Jerome's time children were taught it as soon as they could speak, and the Christian peasants in Palestine sang it at the plough. It is always used in the Mass between the Epis tle and Gospel except during times of penance. All Saints.— Feast November ist. This originated at the dedication of the cleansed and purified Pantheon at Rome, under the title of S. Maria ad Martyres in 701 ; it was later extend ed to the Universal Church as a feast of all the Saints in Heaven. All Souls. — The commemoration of all the faithful departed on November 2nd; the Mass is that for the Dead, and the Office of the Dead is added to that of the day. All Altars are privileged on that day. Alms for Mass. — Money given for say ing a Mass; not as a price (which would be simony), but as alms for the support of the priest (I. Cor. ix. 13)- Alpha and Omega. — The first and last letters of the Greek Alphabet ; hence denoting the beginning and end. Altar. — Place of sacrifice; an altar for Mass must be of stone, duly conse crated, and contains relics of Mar tyrs : portable altar-stones are also used. Altar Breads. — Unleavened wheaten bread in the form of wafers, specially prepared for consecration in the Mass. Altar Cards. — Three cards placed on the altar at Mass, containing the prayers to be said by the priest when the use of the Missal is not convenient. Ambrosian Rite. — The ancient liturgy still in use at Milan. Amen. — A Hebrew word expressing assent to the declaration or prayer which it follows. Amice. — A rectangular piece of linen which the priest wears on his shoul ders at Mass after placing it first on his head. It represents divine hope, which the Apostle calls the helmet of salvation (I Thess. v. 8). Anathema. — A thing accursed. Anchorite.— One who has retired from the world ; a recluse or hermit. Angelic Doctor. — St. Thomas Aquinas (1274). Angels. — Pure spirits without bodies, created by God before man; they form a hierarchy of nine choirs, viz., Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dom inations, Virtues, Powers, Princi palities, Archangels, Angels (the word Angel is derived from the Greek term for messenger). Angelus. — A devotion in memory of the Incarnation practiced morning, noon and night, the signal being given by a bell; also called the Ave Maria. Anniversary. — The annual remem brance of the dead, for which a spec ial Mass and prayers are provided in the Liturgy. Annunciation. — When the Archangel Gabriel saluted Mary as full of grace and made known to her the Incarna tion of God the Son (Luke i). Feast March 25th. Antichrist. — The great enemy of Christ and persecutor of the Church, who is to come before the end of the world (2 Thess. ii. 3-8). Antiphon. — An anthem which is sung or said before and after each psalm in the Divine Office ; also four in honor of Blessed Virgin Mary, varying with the seasons, occur at the end of Compline. Antipopes.— Men who claimed the title of Pope without having been duly elected. Apocrypha. — Those books claiming an origin that might entitle them to a place in the Canon, or one supposed to be Scripture, but finally rejected by the Church. Apostasy. — The renunciation of the Catholic faith by one who has pos sessed it. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 703 Apostle. — From the Greek, signifying envoy. Besides the Apostles of Christ named in the Gospels and Acts, various Saints are styled apos tles of particular places or people; e. g., St. Augustine of England, St. Patrick of Ireland, St. Peter Claver of the negroes, etc. Apostolic. — A mark of the Church, because she holds the doctrines and traditions of the Apostles, and be cause, through the unbroken succes sion of her Pastors, she derives her Orders and her Mission from them. Archbishop. — The chief of the bishops of his province. Archmandrite. — A Greek title often used as synonymous with Abbot, but more properly the head over a num ber of monasteries, whereas an Ab bot presides over one. Arians. — Heretics in the fourth and later centuries, who denied the Di vinity of Christ. Ascension Day. — A movable feast, forty days after Easter, celebrating the Ascension of Christ from the mount of Olives in sight of His holy Mother and disciples. Ash Wednesday. — The first day of Lent, when ashes are blessed, and placed upon the heads of each of the people with the words, "Remember, man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return." Asperges. — The ceremony of sprink ling the people with holy water be fore High Mass on Sunday; the name being taken from the first word of the verse (Ps. I. 9), with which the rite begins. Aspersory. — Instrument for sprinkling holy water. Assumption B. V. M. — The taking up of Our Lady, after her death and bur ial, into heaven, attended by Angels. (Feast 15th August). Assumption, Sisters of the. — Founded by Mgr. Affre, Archbishop of Paris, in 1839, chiefly as an educational Or der. Atheist. — One who does not believe in God. Attributes, Divine. — A theological term for the perfections of God ; e. g., infinity, omnipotence, goodness. Attrition. — Sorrow for sin, proceeding from the fear of God. Augustinians. — An Order (originally of Hermits) following the Rule of St. Augustine. The present consti tutions were compiled in 1278. Aureole. — A special accidental reward, bestowed in heaven upon Martyrs, Virgins, and Doctors; (less accu rately) the nimbus or halo repre sented in art around the head of a Saint. Aurora. — The dawn preceding sunrise, before which Mass may not be cele brated; its length is approximately estimated, and varies with different seasons of the year. There is a spec ial Mass for the aurora on Christ mas Day. • Authentication of a Relic. — A written testimony as to genuineness given by the bishop or other competent authority when he seals up the re liquary. Ave Maria. — The chief prayer to the Blessed Virgin which the Church uses, the first part consisting of the inspired words of the Angel Gabriel and St. Elizabeth (Luke i.) ; the sec ond part added by the Church, under the guidance of the same Holy Spirit. This prayer is said so fre quently to recall to our minds the Incarnation of God the Son, and to Honor His Blessed Mother. Banns. — Publication in church of the names of persons wishing to be mar ried, in order to discover if any im pediment exists. Baptism. — A Sacrament which cleans es us from original sin (and from actual sin in case of adults) ; it also makes us Christians, children of God and members of the Church. It is necessary for salvation (St. John iii. 5). The ordinary minister is a priest, but any lay person may bap tize in case of necessity. Baptism, Form of.^The words, "I baptize thee in the name of the Fa ther, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," which must be said at the 704 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. same time that water is poured on the head of the subject. Baptismal Vows. — The promises in baptism to renounce the devil and all his works and pomps. Baptistry. — A portion of the church, generally near the door, set apart and railed off to contain the font. Barnabites. — Regular Clerks of the Congregation of St. Paul, founded in the sixteenth century by St. An thony Zaccaria, so called from a church of St. Barnabas at Milan, which belonged to them. Basilians. — An Order of Monks dating back to St. Basil (379). Basilica. — One of the principal church es of the highest dignity; other classes are : — cathedral, collegiate, baptismal, parochial, mother (ma trices), or filial churches. Beads). — A method of counting each Pater (large bead) and Ave (small bead), or other prayers in rosaries and chaplets. See Blessing. Beatification. — There are two kinds : 1. formal, in which, the virtues and miracles of the servant of God being proved, the Sovereign Pontiff allows him to be called by the title of "beatus," and grants Mass and of fice in his honour (this is not always done in the decree), though gener ally with some local restriction; 2. "aequipollent," that is, when the Pope allows the ancient fame of a servant of God, and confirms the local sentence of the ordinary or delegate approving the cultus paid to him. The latter was done in the case of the English Martyrs in 1886. Beatitude. — That perfect good which completely satisfies all desire. Man has been raised to a supernatural state, and his eternal beatitude con sists in God seen face to face. Beatitudes Eight. — The blessings pronounced by our Lord at the be ginning of the Sermon on the Mount. Bells, Church. — These have to be sol emnly blessed by the bishop, being anointed outside with holy oil of the sick, and with chrism inside; they are used to summon the faith ful, and excite their devotion, to drive away storms and evil spirits. They are ordered to be rung morn ing, noon and evening for the devo tion of the Angelus or Ave Maria, and on Friday afternoon for the commemoration of Our Lord's Pas sion. They are also rung at night as a signal for the de profundis to be said for the Holy Souls in Purga tory. Benedictines. — The first and chief monastic Order in the West; found ed by the Patriarch of monks, St. Benedict, at Subiaco, and removed to Monte Cassino in 529. They re cite the Divine Office at the canoni cal hours, and are at other times employed in study, teaching or man ual labour. It has been the fruitful parent of innumerable Saints; and it is to this order that the conversion of England by St. Augustine was owing. The same Order for nuns was founded by St. Scholastica, sis ter of St. Benedict. Benediction, Rite of. — After the Bless ed Sacrament has been exposed for adoration, the monstrance or pyx containing It is raised in the form of a cross to bless the people. Benefice. — A right of receiving the profits of Church property, on ac count of the discharge of a spiritual office. Berretta. — A black cap worn by a priest. Cardinals have red, bishops purple ones. Bible. — The ordinary name, since St. Chrysostom, for the collection of the Books of the Old and New Testa ment. See Inspiration, Scripture. Bilocation. — The personal presence of the same individual in more than one place at the same time; this is recorded of many Saints; e. g., St. Philip Nedi and St. Catherine of Ricci visited each other without leaving their respective homes at Rome and Prato. Bishop in Partibus Infidelium. — A Bishop consecrated to a see former ly existing, but now in a non-Chris- A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 705 tian country. He is also called a "titular bishop." Auxiliary bishops and Vicars Apostolic generally have this rank. Blackfriars. — The old name in Eng land for Dominicans. Blasphemy. — Any word or speech in sulting to God. Blessings. — i. Which set apart a per son or thing for the service of God. 2. Which invoke the blessing of God on persons or things. Numer ous forms of blessings are author ized for different objects; e. g., dif ferent classes of persons, food, hous es, fields, ships, railways, telegraphs, etc. A simple blessing is given by the sign of the cross. Rosaries, crucifixes, and medals must be bless ed by those having faculties for the purpose, before the owner can gain the indulgences attached to their possession or use. Boat. — A small vessel in that shape, containing the incense to be burnt in the thurible. Bollandists. — A name given to the Je suit editors of the Acta Sanctorum, which is the largest collection of Lives of Saints. Breviary. — The book containing the Divine Office recited by the clergy. Bridgettines. — An order founded by St. Bridget of Sweden, in the four teenth century, of nuns chiefly, but monks also. The monastery of Syon, near Brentford, belonged to them before Henry VIII; and this community, having taken refuge at Lisbon, has always survived, and lately returned to England. Brief. — A form of Pontifical letter, signed by the Secretary of Briefs, and sealed with the Ring of the Fisherman. Bull. — The more formal and solemn kind of Papal letter; it commences "(Pius) episcopus, servus servorum Dei," and has a leaden seal (bulla) attached to it. Burse. — A square case for the corporal of the ecclesiastical color of the day. Calvary. — i. The mount where Christ was crucified; 2. A complete repre- 45-C F Vol. 2 sentation of the 'Crucifixion, with figures of our Lady and St. John and the two thieves. Calvinists. — Besides adopting other Protestant doctrines, Calvin , taught absolute predestination and reproba tion to heaven or hell, apart from any merit or demerit on the part of man. Camaldolese. — An austere religious Order founded by St. Romauld in 1012, at Camaldoli, among the Ap- pennines, thirty miles east of Flor ence. Camera Apostolica. — The department of the Roman Court charged with the administration of the Pontifical exchequer, presided over by the Car dinal Camerlengo (Treasurer or Chamberlain). Cameriere Segreto. — The title of cham berlains of the Camera Segreta, or private apartments of the Pope's residence. Candlemas. — Feast of the Purification of B. V. M. (2 Feb.), when candles are blessed and distributed to the faithful, to be lighted during the procession and at Mass, and after wards at the bedside of the dying. Candles. — Used on every altar with a spiritual significance. Two are ne cessary at Low Mass, six at High Mass, and twelve at Benediction, if the Blessed Sacrament is exposed. Canon. — A member of a Cathedral or other Collegiate Chapel, formerly living according to a rule, the word for which in Greek is canon. Canon Law. — The rules or laws relat ing to faith, morals, and discipline, prescribed or proposed to Christians by ecclesiastical authority. Canon of Scripture. — List of inspired books accepted on the authority of the Church ; the name Canon may have been given because they were a rule for the faith ; or because these books were admitted by the rule of the Church. Canon of the Mass. — The part of the Mass from the Sanctus to the Com munion; or, more strictly speaking, to the Pater Noster. 706 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Canons Regular. — There are four Or ders: Lateran of the Most Holy Saviour, Premonstratensian, of the Holy Cross, of the Immaculate Con ception. Canonical Hours. — The different parts of the Divine Office which follow and are named after the hours of the day. Canonization. — The public testimony1 of the Church to the sancitity and glory of one of the faithful departed. This testimony is issued in the form of a judgment, decreeing to the per son in question the honours due to those who are reigning with God in Heaven. By this decree he is in scribed in the catalogue of the Saints, and invoked in public pray ers; churches are dedicated to God in memory of him, and his feasts kept, and public honours are paid to his relics. This judgment of the Church is infallible. Cantor. — A singer; formerly the offic ial in a collegiate or cathedral church who instructed the choristers and di rected the chanting. This office has sometimes a valuable prebend at tached to it. Capital Sins. — So called because they are the sources from which all other sins proceed. There are seven: Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Anger, Gluttony, Envy, Sloth. Cappa Magna. — A long garment with a train, worn by bishops and cardi nals. The hood is lined with silk or fur, according to the season. Capuchins. — A branch of the Francis can order, dating from 1528. Cardinal. — A name first given (in the fourth century) to the priests hav ing charge of the Roman parish churches or "titles," and now to the immediate counsellors and assistants of the Sovereign Pontiff, whose elec tion rests with them. The college of Cardinals consists of six bishops, fifty priests, and fourteen deacons; but the number is seldom complete. Carmelites. — A religious Order said to have been founded by Berthold, a Crusader, who was a hermit in Cala bria. After seeing Elias in vision he retired to Mount Carmel, where he was joined by other hermits living there, who claimed their descent in uninterrupted succession from that prophet. They were given a rule in 1209 by Albert, Patriarch of Jeru salem. On crossing over to Europe they renounced the eremitical life, and this and other mitigations of the rule were sanctioned in 1247 by In nocent IV., who confirmed them un der the title of Friars of our Lady of Mount Carmel. There are also nuns of the same Order. Carmelites, Discalced. — An austere re form of the Carmelite Order both for men and women, the work of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross, aided by St. Peter of Alcantara. They are barefooted. Carnival. — From carnem levare, re move meat — the three days before Lent (or sometimes longer), a spec ial season for feasting and mirth in Catholic countries. As this easily degenerates into riot, the Church en courages pious exercises at this time, and Exposition of the Blessed Sac rament is usual. Carthusians. — An Order founded in 1086 by St. Bruno in a desert valley of the Alps four thousand feet above the sea, near Grenoble, called the Chartreuse, whence the name, cor rupted in England into Charter house. This is the only ancient Or der which has never needed reform. The monks live entirely apart from one another, meeting daily to say Vespers and Matins togethei Cassock. — The long black garment which is the ordinary dress of priests and clerics. Catacombs. — Underground passages and chambers, especially those in the neighborhood of Rome, used by the early Christians for concealment and also for worship and burial. The bodies of the early martyrs, now honoured in the Roman churches, rested there for a time. In more re cent times those bodies, with or without names, which are found A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 707 with the proofs of martyrdom are distributed for veneration in differ ent churches throughout the world. Catafalque. — An erection like a bier, which is placed in front of the altar at a Requiem when the body is not present. Catechumen. — A person not baptized, but under preparation for baptism. Cathedral — The church in which the bishop of a diocese has his chair (cathedra) or throne, and performs the chief pontifical functions of the year. Cathedraticum. — An annual tax from the churches and beneficed clergy of the diocese, exacted by the bishop, and paid at the synod. Catholic, or Universal. — A mark of the Church, because she subsists in all ages, teaches all nations, and is the one Ark of Salvation for all Celebrant. — The priest who celebrates Mass : Cemetery — "Sleeping-place" or church yard; ground set apart and con secrated by the bishop to receive the bodies of Christians. The burial of excommunicated persons in a Catholic cemetery is unlawful. Should an interment have been vio lently effected, the remains of the excommunicated person should be exhumed if distinguishable; if not, the cemetery should be reconciled by the aspersion of holy water sol emnly blessed, as at the dedication of a church. Censure. — A spiritual penalty imposed for the correction and amendment of offenders, by which a baptized per son, who has committed a crime and is contumacious, is deprived by ec clesiastical authority of certain spiritual advantages. Chalice. — A vessel of precious metal in the form of a cup, specially con secrated to contain the Precious Blood at Mass. Chains of St. Peter. — Two were pre served, one with which the Apostle was bound at Jerusalem, the other at Rome; when the former was brought to Rome by the Empress Eudoxia, about 439, and placed near the Roman one, the two joined miraculously. They are still vene rated in the church of St. Peter ad vincula (Feast, August 1). Chant, Plain. — A solemn style of di atonic, unisonous music, without strictly measured time, which is be lieved to have been sung in the Christian Church since its first foun dation. Chantry. — A chapel set apart for the offering of Masses for a particular soul or intention. Chaplet. — A general term for the ros ary and other devotions which are said on beads. Chapter. — The body of canons of a cathedral or other collegiate church ; an assembly of monks or other reli gious. Character. — A mark or seal on the soul which cannot be effaced. It is given by the Sacraments of Baptism, Con firmation, and Holy Order, and therefore these Sacraments cannot be repeated. Charity, Institute of. — A Congregation founded by Antonio Rosimini in 1828 in the north of Italy. Charity, Order of. — "Four things are to be loved: 1. What is above us — God; 2. What we are; 3. What is beside us — our neighbour; 4. What is beneath us — our own body." Charity, Sisters of. — An active Order of women founded by St. Vincent of Paul and the Ven. Louise de Mar- iliac (Mile. Le Gras) in 1634-5. Charity of St. Paul, Sisters of. — A con gregation founded in France in 1704, and introduced into England in 1847. Chasuble. — The outer and chief vest ment worn by the priest at Mass, with a cross upon it. Childhood, Society of the Holy — For the redemption of pagan children; founded by Mgr. de Forbin-Janson and Mile. Jaricot in 1842. Members, who must be under twenty-one, give one halfpenny per month, and these alms support numerous orphanages in the far East, and rescue abandon ed Chinese babies. 708 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Choir. — From the Latin chorus, the singers at the Divine offices ; from their usual place, the space between the altar and the nave came to be called the choir. Christ. — Word meaning "anointed," a name of our Lord. Christian.— A follower of Chrisl Christian Brothers. — Brothers of the Christian Schools, a congregation of laymen founded for the education of the poor by Saint John Baptist de la Salle in 1684. The Irish Christian Brothers are a separate body of sim ilar lines. Christmas. — The Feast of our Lord's Nativity and the season accompany ing it. On this feast alone Mass is said at midnight, and every priest is allowed to celebrate three masses. Church, Catholic. — The union of all the faithful under one head, Jesus Christ. Church Militant. — The faithful on earth still in a state of warfare ; dis tinguished from the Church triumph ant in heaven, or suffering in Purga tory. Churching. — The blessing of women after child-birth. Ciborium. — A canopy resting on col umns above the altar; term also used for the tabernacle and for the pyx in which the B. Sacrament is kept. Civil Law. — The Law of Rome, owing its form chiefly to the Emperor Justinian; this prevails in most countries, and is recognized by the Church as deciding cases for which her own Canon law does not speci fically provide. Sometimes this term is used less accurately of any law proceeding from secular as dis tinguished from ecclesiastical au thority. Clandestine Marriage. — One without the presence of the parish priest and two witnesses. The Council of Trent decreed such a marriage to be not only unlawful, as before, but also invalid; but this decree is not yet promulgated in England, though binding in most other countries. Marriages are also called clandes tine, when the publication of banns is unlawfully omitted; but this does not render them invalid. Cloister. — A covered passage, usually round a quadrangle, in a convent or monastery; hence also a general term for religious houses and life. Clothing. — Investing a postulant with the religious habit on entering the noviciate. Coadjutor Bishop. — One appointed to help another in diocesan work, some times with the right of succession. Coat of Treves, Holy. — The seamless garment worn by Christ, and said to have been woven by our Lady, for which the soldiers cast lots at the Crucifixion. It was brought to Tre- vas by St. Helena in the fourth cen tury. Codex. — An ancient MS., especially of the Holy Scriptures ; the most cele brated of these are the Vatican at Rome, the Alexandrine in the Brit ish Museum, and the Sinaitic at St. Petersburg. Colettines. — A reform of the Order of Poor Clares in 1436 by St. Colette, who brought back many convents in France and Flanders to the strict Rule given by St. Francis to St. Clare. Most of the Convents of poor Clares in England follow this rule. College, Sacred. — The whole body of Cardinals. Colours, Ecclesiastical. — White on feasts of our Lord and our Lady, and saints not martyrs; red on Pen tecost and feasts of Apostles and martyrs; violet in Lent, Advent and other penitential times ; green on a Sunday or feria throughout the rest of the year ; black in Masses for the dead and on Good Friday. Colours, Papal. — At one time yellow and red, but Napoleon I. having adopted these colours for his troops in Italy, Pius VII., in 1808, chose white and yellow, and these have since been retained. Commandments, Division of the Ten. — The Church follows that of St. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 709 Augustine, who places three relating to God in the first table, and in the second table seven relating to our neighbour. Commandments of the Church. — The chief ones are: — I. To keep the Sun days and Holy days of Obligation holy, by hearing Mass and resting from servile works. 2. To keep the days of fasting and abstinence ap pointed by the Church. 3. To go to confession at least once a year. 4. To receive the Blessed Sacrament at least once a year, and that at Easter or thereabouts. 5. To contribute to the support of our pastors. 6. Not to marry within certain degrees of kindred, nor to solemnize marriage at the forbidden times. Commemoration. — When two offices of greater and less rank occur on the same day, commemoration is made of the lesser in the Office and Mass. Commendation of the Soul. — Prayers recited by the priest at the bedside of a dying person. Communion of Saints. — All the mem bers of the Church, in heaven, on earth, and in purgatory, are in com munion with each other, as being one body in Jesus Christ. Communion, Spiritual. — An earnest desire to receive the Blessed Sacra ment when we have not the means to communicate in reality. It may well be made at any time, but best in time of Mass. Compassion B. V. M. — Her participa tion in the Passion of Christ, by which she co-operated in the re demption of the world. The will of Christ and Mary was altogether one and their holocaust one; both offer ed alike to God. He in the Blood of His Flesh, she in the blood of her heart. As the Passion was the sac rifice which Christ made upon the Cross; so the Compassion was the sacrifice of Mary beneath the Cross, it was her offering to the Eternal Father, an offering made by a sinless creature for the sins of her fellow-creatures. Compostella, Santiago de. — A city in Galicia, Spain, resorted to for many centuries by pilgrims to the tomb of St. James (Santiago). It ranks with Rome and Jerusalem among the chief pilgrimages of the Church. Conclave. — The assembly of the Cardi nals for the election of a new Pope. Concordat. — A treaty between the Holy See and a secular State con cerning the interests of religion. Concupiscence. — The appetite which tends to the gratification of the sen ses. Conferences, Ecclesiastical.— Periodi cal meetings of the clergy for the discussion of theological cases. Confession. — To accuse ourselves of our sins to a priest; an ordinary name for the whole administration of the Sacrament of Penance, of which this is a part; the altar Over the tomb of a martyr. Confession, Preparation for. — Four things are necessary: 1. We must heartily pray for grace to make a good confession. 2. We must care fully examine our conscience. 3. We must take time and care to make a good act of contrition. 4. We must resolve by the help of God to re nounce our sins, and to begin a new life for the future. Confessional. — A place designed for hearing confessions through a grat ing. Confessor. — One who hears confes sions; one who has suffered perse cution for religion; a man who is a saint, yet not a martyr. Confirmation. — A Sacrament by which we receive the Holy Ghost, in order to make us strong and perfect Chris tians, and soldiers of Jesus Christ. The ordinary minister is a bishop. The recipient takes the name of a Patron Saint, and requires a spon sor. Confiteor. — "I confess to Almighty God, to B. V. Mary, etc.," a form of prayer used at the beginning of Mass, in the Sacrament of Penance, and on other occasions. It came into use in its present form in the thir teenth century. 710 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Confraternity. — Or brotherhood, a so ciety or association instituted for the encouragement of devotion, or for promoting works of piety, reli gion, and charity, under some rules and regulations, though without being tied to them so far as that the breach or neglect of them would be sinful. Congregation. — The body of people in a church, as distinguished from the clergy. (Of priests and religious) a community or order bound together by a common rule, either without vows, or without solemn vows. Congregations, Roman. — Bodies com posed of Cardinals, etc., for the transaction, under the superintend ence of the Pope, of the business of the Church. Such are the Congre gations: of the Consistory; of the Holy Office of the Inquisition (See Inquisition) ; of the Index; of Rites; of Bishops and Regulars; of Propa ganda; of Indulgences, etc. Consanguinity. — Blood-relationship ; the degree is reckoned according to the number of steps of descent from the common parent; e. g., a brother and sister are related in the first de gree, third cousins in the fourth de gree. Consanguinity as far as the fourth degree is an impediment to marriage, which makes it not only unlawful but invalid, unless a dis pensation be obtained. Conscience. — An act of our judgment, dictating what we ought to do or omit in order to act in conformity with the law of God. Consecration. — The form of words by which bread and wine in the Mass are changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. Consistory. — The assembly of Cardi nals convoked by the Supreme Pon tiff. Consubstantial. — The word inserted in the Nicene Creed against the Arian denial of the Divinity of Christ. Contemplation. — A higher form of mental prayer. Contrition. — A hearty sorrow for our sins because by them we have of fended God, who is infinitely good in Himself and infinitely good to us, together with a firm purpose of amendment. Perfect contrition is that which proceeds purely from the love of God. Convent. — A dwelling of religious men and women living in community un der rule and practicing the Evan gelical counsels, usually applied to those of the mendicant orders as dif ferent from monks. In England this term is generally applied to all reli gious houses of women. Cope. — An ample vestment varying in colour, reaching to the feet, with a hood at the back. It is worn in most solemn ceremonies, but not at Mass. Corona. — '(Crown) ; a third part of the Rosary ; synonymous with chaplet. Corporal. — The linen cloth on which the body of Christ is placed when consecrated. Corpus Christi. — A solemn feast, in stituted in honour of the Most Holy Sacrament, on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. Cotta. — A common word (from the Italian) for the shorter form of sur plice with sleeves now in general use. Council. — Assemblies of the rulers of the Church legally convoked for the settlement of ecclesiastical affairs. They are usually — i. General, or Oecumenical, presided over by the Pope or his representative. 2. Pro vincial, under the Metropolitan. 3 Diocesan, more commonly called by the equivalent name of Synod. Cowl. — A part of the monastic habit. Credence. — A table, usually at the Epistle side of the altar, on which are placed requisites for Mass or other ceremonies until required for actual use. Creed. — A summary of articles of faith. Those in use are: — 1. The Apostles' Creed, believed to have been composed by the Apostles themselves (2 Tim. i. 13) ; 2. The Athanasian, said at Prime on Sun day; 3. The Nicene Creed, formu- A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 711 lated at the Councils of Nicaea and Constantinople in the fourth cen tury and added to later; this is re cited at Mass on Sundays and cer tain feasts, and forms the first part of; 4. The Creed of Pius IV., drawn up after the Council of Trent, now in general use whenever a solemn profession of faith is required, e. g., on reception into the Church, etc. Crosier. — The staff carried by the bis hop as symbol of the authority by which he rules his flock. Cross, Sign of The. — The external re presentation of the Cross of Christ, which has been the mark of Chris tians since the first ages. It is made by touching with the finger of the right hand the forehead, breast, left and right shoulder. We make the sign of the cross — first, to put us in mind of the Blessed Trinity by the words, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost;" and secondly, to remind us that God the Son died for us on the Cross, by the very form of the Cross which we make upon ourselves. The cross is signed upon the forehe-.d, lips and heart when the Gospel is said, to show that we must avoid sin in thought, word or deed, and pro fess our faith in these three ways. Cross, True. — The actual Cross on which Christ was crucified, found later by St. Helena, the mother of Constantine; many portions of it ex ist, and are venerated as relics with special honour. Feast of the Inven tion (or finding) 3rd May; of the Exaltation, after its recovery from the Persians by the Emperor Hera- clius, 14th September. Crucifix. — The figure of our Lord on the cross, or the cross with the fig ure on it. A representation of the crucifix must be above the altar when Mass is said. See Blessing. Crypt. — The basement of a church, used for worship or interment. Cultus. — A Latin word, equivalent to worship or reverence. Cure of Souls. — The responsibility and care of souls, such as belongs to a parish priest. Curia, Roman. — The Court of the Pope. Dalmatic. — The upper vestment worn by deacons at High Mass. Dataria. — The Apostolic tribunal for the granting of favours by the Holy See. Daughters of the Cross. — A Congrega tion founded in 1833 at Liege in Bel gium by Mere M. Therese Haze for undertaking all active and zealous works, especially schools. Deacon. — The second of the Holy Or ders. His duty is to minister at the altar, to baptize and to preach. At High Mass he sings the Gospel and assists the priest. Dead, Masses for the. — Those offered for the Souls in Purgatory, to make satisfaction to God for them, #and shorten the time of their exile. Dean. — A dignitary in many Cathedral Chapters; a Rural Dean is placed over a district of several parishes. Decalogue.— .The Ten Commandments. Decretals, The. — A collection of laws and decisions made by St. Raymund of Pennafort, at the command of Gregory IX, in 1234. Dedication of Churches. — The act by which a church is solemnly set apart for the worship of God, under a special title or invocation. Deist. — One who admits the existence of a Supreme Being, but denies all revelation. Despair. — A sin against hope; distrust of God's goodness and His promises to us. Detraction. — Injury to our neighbor's character by making known, without a sufficient cause, his real but secret faults. Devil. — Lucifer and the other fallen angels who followed that evil spirit in his rebellion. Devotion. — A readiness of will to per form whatever appertains to the ser vice of God. External devotions or pious exercises are only meritorious so far as they proceed from internal devotion. 712 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Devotion, Feasts of. — Feasts which were once holidays of obligation, the precept of hearing Mass and resting from work on these days having been annulled by the Holy See, and their special observance left to the devotion of the faithful. Dies Irae. — The sequence or hymn in the Mass for the Dead. Dimissorial. — Letters given by one bishop authorizing the ordination of his subject by another. Diocese. — The tract of country with its population falling under the pas torate of one bishop. Dirge. — Solemn Office for the Dead; so called after the first Antiphon, "Dirge." Discalced. — Barefooted, as Discalced Carmelites. Discipline. — i. Laws binding the mem bers of the Church in conduct as distinct from faith. 2. An instru ment of penance in the form of a scourge. Dispensation. — The relaxation of the law in a particular case. A superior can dispense in his own laws, the Pope in the laws of the Church. With regard to the moral law, based on the nature of right and wrong, which is like God, eternal, there can be no dispensation. Divination. — Consulting devils or the dead, which is inconsistent with the supreme prerogatives of God. Divorce. — A separation between man and wife. No human power can dis solve the bond of marriage ("what God hath joined together let no man put asunder," Matt. xix. 6) ; and any attempt to do so by a secular court is futile and of no effect. The Church, however, on sufficient grounds grants a divorce from com mon life, i. e., relieves one of the parties from the obligation of living with the other. Doctor of the Church. — Title conferred on a Saint eminent for learning by the Pope or a General Council. The Offices and Mass for these have dis tinctive features. Dogma, — A truth contained in Scrip ture or tradition, and proposed by the Church for the belief of the faith ful. Dolours, Seven. — Seven mysteries of Sorrow in Our Lady's life; namely, 1. The Prophecy of Simeon; 2. The Flight into Egypt; 3. The Three Days' Loss ; 4. Meeting Jesus carry ing His Cross; 5. Standing beneath the Cross on Calvary; 6. The taking down from the Cross; 7. The Burial of Jesus. There is a Rosary or chaplet, and also a scapular of the seven Dolours. Dominicans. — The Religious Order of the Friars Preachers founded by St. Dominic in the thirteenth century. The nuns of this Order are also known by this name. The first or der of St. Dominic is that of men; the second Order that of the clois tered nuns; the third Order, or Bro thers and Sisters of Penance of St. Dominic, may live in the world, but the Sisters sometimes live in com munity, and are enclosed, but not strictly. Donatists. — Schismatics who after wards became heretics, and held that the validity of the sacraments de pended upon the moral character of the minister, and also that sinners could not be members of the Church. They were first condemned in 313, but troubled Africa for many years later. They were opposed by St. Optatus and St. Augustine. Douay Bible. — The name of the En glish version of the Holy Scriptures founded on the Old Testament pub lished at Douay in 1610, and the New Testament at Rheims in 1582. Double Feasts. — The greater kind of feasts ; these are divided into doubles of the first and second class, greater doubles, ordinary doubles, and semi- doubles. On doubles the whole an tiphon is recited before and after each psalm. Dove. — A symbol of the Holy Ghost, who appeared under that form at the Baptism of Christ. Doxology. — Or Gloria Patri, a formula of praise of God of extreme anti- A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 713 quity. In English, "Glory be to the Father, etc." Duel.— A hostile meeting of two or other even number of persons with time and place previously arranged; all taking part in it incur excom munication, and if killed are denied Christian burial. Dulia. — (From a Greek word for ser vice), the honour and worship given to the Saints. That given to the Mother of God, being something higher, is called hyperdulia. Easter. — Festival of the Resurrection of Christ. It is celebrated on the Sunday following the first full moon after the vernal equinox. Its date fixes that of the other chief movable feasts of the year. Ecstasy, State of. — Being raised by God to supernatural contemplation, so that the senses are suspended, though the will retains full power. Ejaculations. — Short prayers or aspi rations, which can therefore be of ten repeated, and many of which are indulgenced. Elevation, in the Mass. — The raising of the host and chalice after conse cration for adoration by the faith ful. Ember-Days. — The Wednesday, Fri day and Saturday following the first Sunday in Lent, Whit Sunday, the Exaltation of the Cross (Sept. 14th), and the third Sunday of Advent. Their observance as times of prayer and fasting, received from apostolic tradition, was decreed by St. Callis- tus (221). The object is, 1. Conse cration of the four seasons by pray er and thanksgiving; 2. Intercession for God's blessing on the ordination of the clergy, which is held at those times. Eminence. — The title of a Cardinal. Enclosure. — The rule of the Church which separates members of a reli gious house from the world by the prohibition or restriction of inter course with those outside the walls. Encyclical. — A circular letter address ed by the Pope to other Bishops of the Church. Epicheja. — A benign interpretation of a law according to equity, declaring a particular special case not to be comprehended under the general law according to the mind of the lawgiver. Epiphany, or Manifestation of Christ ( Feast January 6th ) . Three events are celebrated: 1. The visit of the Magi to Bethlehem. 2. The Baptism of Christ. 3. The miracle at the mar riage-feast of Cana. Episcopate. — 1. The fulness of the priesthood (according to some, a dis tinct order), received by a bishop at his consecration. 2. The body of bishops collectively. Epistle. — The portion of Scripture read between the Collect and Gospel of the Mass. At High Mass it is sung by the Subdeacon. . Espousal. — A formal and binding promise of future marriage. Eucharist, Holy. — The Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist is the true Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, together with His Soul and Divinity, under the appearance (species, or acci dents) of bread and wine. When the words of the consecration or dained by Jesus Christ are pro nounced by the priest in the Holy Mass, there is made a conversion of the whole substance of the bread into the Body, and of the whole sub stance of the wine into the Blood; which conversion the Catholic Church calls Transubstantiation. Under either kind alone Christ is received whole and entire and a true Sacrament. Eutychians. — Otherwise Monophy- sites; heretics who held that there was but one nature in Christ; they were condemned by the General Council of Chalcedon in 451. Evangelical Counsels. — Voluntary Poverty, perpetual Chastity, and en tire Obedience. Evangelists. — The authors of the four gospels; Saints Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. In art they are distinguished by the figures of a man, a lion, an ox, and an eagle. 714 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Ex Cathedra.— See Infallibility. Excommunication. — An ecclesiastical censure, by which any one is depriv ed of the communion of the Church. Formal sentence is ordinarily requir ed; but in certain cases it is incurred at once by the commission of a for bidden act (ipso facto). Exercises, Spiritual. — A series of medi tations on the truths of religion, us ually made during a period of re treat. Exorcism. — Prayers and ceremonies used by the Church to expel evil spirits. Exposition. — A devotion in which the Blessed Sacrament is adored public ly and solemnly; our Lord, as it were, sits on His throne to receive public homage and to give audience to all who come. Extreme Unction, Sacrament of. — The anointing of the sick with holy oil, accompanied with prayer (St. James v. 14, 15). It is given to the sick when in danger of death. Its effects are to comfort and strengthen the soul, to remit sin, and even to restore health when God sees it to be expe dient. Ex Voto. — Offerings made in return for the accomplishment of a desire; they generally consist of little ob jects in silver or small pictures. Faculties. — The approbation and au thorization given to a priest, enabl ing him to hear confessions or exer cise other functions requiring juris diction. Faith. — A supernatural gift of God, which enables us to believe without doubting whatever God has reveal ed; we believe it because God is the very truth, and cannot deceive or be deceived. We know what God has revealed by the testimony and au thority of the Catholic Church. Faithful Companions of Jesus. — A so ciety or Congregation founded at Amiens in 1820, under the direction of Pere Varin, S. J., for the sancti fication of souls and the reform of female education. Faithful Virgin, Religious of. — Found ed about sixty years ago mainly for the care of orphans. The mother- house is at La Delivrande, in Nor mandy. Faldstool. — The seat used in functions by bishops or prelates who are not entitled to, or are not using a throne ; also used for kneeling. Fan. — When the Pope is carried in solemn processions magnificent fans (flabelli) of peacock and ostrich feathers are borne on each side. Fasting-Days. — On which we are al lowed to take but one meal, and are forbidden to eat flesh without spec ial leave. They are the forty days of Lent, certain vigils, the Ember- days, and in England the Wednes days and Fridays in Advent. Father — A title given in early times to all bishops, and in later times to all priests in religious Orders or Con gregations; secular priests some times receive this title, but not gen erally in Catholic countries. Fathers of the Church. — The most eminent Christian writers and teach ers of the first twelve centuries. Fear. — Trepidation of the mind be cause of present or future danger; grave fear from without is an im pediment to marriage, rendering it invalid. Filioque. — "And from the Son;" words inserted in the Nicene Creed as a pro fession of faith against the heresy of the Greeks regarding the Proces sion of the Holy Ghost. Fire, Blessing of New. — The beginn ing of the ceremonies on Holy Sat urday; when fire, newly kindled from flint and steel, is blessed, that from it the Paschal candle and lamps in church may be lighted. Fisherman's Ring. — A signet engrav ed with the effigy of St. Peter in the act of fishing, and with the name of the reigning Pope. Apostolic Briefs are sealed with it, and it is broken at the Pope's death. Flaminian Gate. — The gate of Rome by which the Flaminian Way issues northward from the city. From out side this gate the Pastoral of Cardi- A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 715 nal Wiseman was dated on the oc casion of the English Hierarchy being reconstituted in 1850. Forbidden Times (of Marriage). — It is forbidden to solemnize marriage from Ash-Wednesday to Low Sun day,' and from the First Sunday of Advent to the Epiphany, inclusive ly. Solemnizing marriage means re ceiving the nuptial Benediction, and celebrating public festivities. Forty Hours, Devotion of. — Solemn Exposition of the Blessed Sacra ment for two days and nights, with special prayers and processions. Forum. — Originally market-place, in later times tribunal ; the privilege of the forum is the right of clerics not to be subject to secular tribunals. The tribunal of conscience establish ed in the Sacrament of Penance is spoken of as the internal forum ; the external forum including every exer cise of ecclesiastical jurisdiction ex ternal to that. Franciscans. — 'Friars Minor, the Order founded by St. Fiancis of Assisi (died 1226), practicing the strictest poverty and great austerity of life. After his death it became divided into two great branches, Conven tuals and Observantines ; the Capu chins date from a later period, as also the Recollects and Alcantarines. The second Order (of nuns) are call ed Poor Clares, after the founder St. Clare, who received the rule from St. Francis. The third Order founded by St. Francis is very widely spread, and, with certain mitigations and adaptations, has been specially re commended by Leo XIII. as one most suitable to be embraced by those in the world desiring greater perfection. Fraternal Correction. — 'Reproof ad ministered to our brother with a view to his spiritual advantage. Friar. — From the French frere (bro ther), the title of members of the Mendicant Orders. Frontal. — A cloth covering the front of the altar, varying in colour with the feast or season. Fruits of the Holy Ghost. — Charity, Joy, Peace, Patience, Benignity, Goodness, Longanimity, Mildness, Faith, Modesty, Continency, Chasti ty (Gal. v. 22). Gallican, -ism. — A party or opinion which unduly restricted the prero gatives of the Holy See in favour of local or national churches of France or elsewhere. Gaudete Sunday. — The third of Ad vent, so named from the first word of the Introit (Phil, iv.) Gehenna. — A name for hell, from the Valley of Hinnom near Jerusalem. General Confession. — A confession of the whole life, or including several particular confessions necessary when previous ones have been wait ing in the required integrity, sorrow, or resolution. General of an Order. — The Superior of the whole Order, usually elected in general Chapter for some fixed term. Genuflection. — Bending of the knee. This is always done in passing be fore the tabernacle where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. If the Bless ed Sacrament is exposed the genu flection is made with both knees. It is frequently used by the priest in the Mass, and by all the faithful at the mention of the Incarnation in the Creed. Gifts of the Holy Ghost. — These are seven. — Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety, the Fear of the Lord. Girdle. — A symbol of chastity, the cord with which the priest or cleric binds his alb. It should be of linen ra ther than silk, but may also be of wool. It is usually white, but may be of other colours to match the vestments. Gloria in Excelsis. — "Glory be to God on high," said or sung in the Mass after the Kyrie Eleison. As it is a hymn of joy, it is omitted in Masses for the dead, and is only said when the day or season is festal. Gloria Patri. — See Doxology. Glorified Bodies. — The bodies of Christ 716 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. and the Saints after the Resurrec tion. They have four special gifts, viz.: i. Impassibility or incapabil ity of suffering (Apoc. xxi. 4) (2) Brightness (Matt. xiii. 43, I. Cor. xv. 41-43) ; (3) Agility, or power of rapid motion; (4) Subtility, becoming Spiritualized (I Cor. xv. 44). Thus Christ passed through the closed doors on Easter Day. Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary. — (1) The Resurrection. (2) The As cension. (3) The Descent of the Holy Ghost. (4) The Assumption B. V. M. (5) The Coronation of B. V. M. and the glory of all the Saints. God. — The Supreme Spirit, who alone exists of Himself, and is infinite in all perfections. God's Acre. — An old English name for Churchyard. Golden Rose. — An ornament blessed by the Pope every year on Laetare Sunday, and sent to Catholic sover eigns or others of distinction. Good Friday. — The day on which the Church commemorates the Passion of Christ. The clergy wear black vestments and prostrate themselves in silence before the stripped altar, the candles being unlighted. The Passion, according to St. John, is then sung in its entirety, followed by the adoration of the Cross ; after which the priest receives a Host consecrated in the Mass of the pre vious day, and brought in procession from the sepulchre, as the Church abstains from celebrating Mass on this day, on which Christ was offer ed for our sins. Good Shepherd, Sisters of the. — A Congregation for the reformation of fallen women, founded originally un der the title of Our Lady of Charity by Pere Eudes in 1642, placed under a generalate and made into a separ ate branch under the title of the Good Shepherd by the Ven. Mother M. de Ste. Euphrasie Pelletier in 1835. Gospel, Liturgical use of. — The prac tice of reading the Gospel in Chris tian assemblies is orescribed in all liturgies and is mentioned by St. Justin Martyr. At High Mass it is sung by the deacon accompanied by two acolytes bearing lighted candles to signify that Christ is the light of souls. The faithful stand to hear the Gospel, in token of their alacrity to obey the words of Christ, and members of military orders stand with drawn swords, for the same reason. Grace. — A supernatural gift of God, freely bestowed upon us for our sanctification and salvation. We ob tain it chiefly by prayer and the Sacraments. Graces that make pleasing (to God) are those which lead directly to the sanctification of the recipient; and these, when inter ior, are either habitual (otherwise sanctifying) or actual. Gratuitous graces are those which are given principally for the benefit of others, and the various kinds are enumerat ed in I Cor. xii. Grace at Meals. — We pray for a bless ing on the food we are about to eat, and we thank God for it, according to the example of Christ, and in obe dience to the precept of St. Paul. "Whether you eat or drink ... do all to the glory of God." Gradual Psalms. — A title given to Psalms cxix.-cxxxiii. Greek Church. — The so-called Ortho dox, but in reality schismatic Church. It consists of those Chris tians who refuse to admit the su premacy of the Pope, and acknowl edge (or have acknowledged) that of the Patriarch of Constantinople. It is also heretical by asserting the Procession of the Holy Ghost from the Father alone, not from the Fa ther and the Son. Gregorian Music. — Another name for plain chant, from the part of which St. Gregory the Great (d. 604) took in improving and establishing it. Gremial. — A cloth, either of linen, or corresponding with the vestments; of the day, placed over the knees of the Bishop in many ceremonies. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 717 Greyfriars. — A name for some Fran ciscans. Guardian. — Head of a Franciscan con vent. Guardian Angels. — Angels divinely appointed to protect and guide each individual soul throughout life. (Feast 2nd October). Hagiography. — Sacred writings; lives of saints. Halo. — See Aureole. Heart of Mary, Most Pure. — An ob ject of veneration (with hyperdulia), because united to the person of the Blessed Virgin, just as the Sacred Heart of Jesus is worshiped with latria because united to the Person of the Eternal Word; the physical heart in each case being taken as the natural symbol of charity and the inner life. The feast is kept in some places on the 4th Sunday after Pentecost; in others, on that after the Octave of the Assumption. The Confraternity of the Immaculate Heart for the conversion of sinners at Notre Dame des Victoires at Paris did much to spread this devo tion. Heaven. — The place where the good shall see, love, and enjoy God for ever in glory and happiness. Hell. — The prison where the fallen an gels and lost souls are tormented eternally. Heresy. — The rejection of one or more revealed truths by one who has been baptized, and has professed the Christian religion. Hermit. — .From the Greek word for desert, one who leads a solitary or retired life. Hierarchy. — The organization of ranks and orders in the Church. Holiness. — A mark of the Church, be cause she teaches a holy doctrine, and is distinguished by the eminent holiness of so many thousands of her children. Also a personal title of the Supreme Pontiff. Holy Child Jesus, Sisters of . — An insti tute founded about fifty years ago in England for teaching both the rich and the poor. Holy Ghost.— The Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, and is equal to Them; for He is the same Lord and God as they are. Holy Ghost, Sins Against the. — 1. Presumption; 2. Despair; 3. Resist ing the known truth ; 4. Envy of an other's spiritual good; 5. Obstinacy in sin; 6. Final impenitence. Holy Places. — Jerusalem and other places sanctified by our Lord's pres ence when on earth. A collection in support of the sanctuaries therein is made throughout the Church every Good Friday. Holy Water. — Water mixed with a lit tle salt, and blessed by a priest. It is used to bless persons and things and to drive away evil spirits. Holy Week. — The week immediately preceding Easter, in which the Pas sion of Christ is commemorated. The chief ceremonies are: On Sun day, the Blessing of Palms; Tene- brae on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday evenings; On Holy Thurs day, 'Mass, with Gloria and Proces sion to the Sepulchre, and the Man- datum, or washing the feet ; on Good Friday, the Passion of St. John, the Adoration of the Cross, and Mass of the Presanctified ; and on Holy Sat urday, the Blessing the Paschal Can dle, Prophecies, Blessing of the Font, and Mass with alleluia. The organ and bells are silent from the Gloria on Thursday until that on Saturday. Hosanna. — A Hebrew word taken from.Ps. cxtvii. 25, meaning "O Lord, save, we pray." It was with this joyful acclaim that the Jews met our Lord as He entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. H. in excelsis (H. in the highest) forms part of the Sanc- tus in the Mass. Hospitallers of St. John of God. — An Order founded by St. John of God at Granada in 1540, for the aid of the sick and infirmt Host. — 1. The bread (unleavened) which is offered and consecrated at 718 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Mass; 2. Christ present under the appearance of bread after the conse cration. Hypostatic Union. — The union of Christ's body and soul with the Per son (or hypostasis) of God the Son. Iconoclast. — A breaker of images. The false doctrine that the use of images is unlawful in church was es pecially prevalent in the eighth and ninth centuries, but is a tenet of many heretical sects. Idolatry. — Setting up anything direct ly in the place of God. Ignorance. — The lack of due knowl edge. There may be ignorance of the law (juris), e. g., if a man did not know that the marriage of third cousins was invalid, or as to fact (facti), e. g., if a man knowing of the impediment mar ried his third cousin, not know ing that she was related. In either case, ignorance may be vincible, such as could and ought to be over come by care and enquiry. It is crass if the negligence to enquire is grsat, and affected if a man express ly avoids knowing, that he may do wrong more freely. Invincible ig norance is that which could not be overcome by reasonable diligence, such as a prudent person would use in a matter of moment. It is only when in invincible ignorance that those who remain outside the Church can be saved. Images. — Of Christ, the B. V. M., and the Saints; the Church teaches that they ought to be had and retained, and that due honour and veneration is to be given to them. Immaculate Conception. — The privi lege of the Blessed Virgin, who, through the merits of her Divine Son, was conceived without the least guilt or stain of original sin. Immunity. — The right to freedom from secular interference which the Church possesses as to places, per sons and property. It was in de fence of this that St. Thomas of Canterbury was martyred. Impediments to Marriage. — 'Circum stances which, from the nature of the case, or by the law of God, or the Church, prevent people being married lawfully, or prevent their being married at all. Those are call ed impediment which make a mar riage unlawful, and sinful to con tract, and those diriment which pre vent a marriage altogether mak ing it null if attempted, such as consanguinity, affinity, spirit ual relationship, holy orders, previous marriage during the life of the, other party (which no civil court of divorce can undo), difference of religion, i. e., with an unbaptized person, etc. It is to dis cover if any impediment exists that banns are published. The Church has power to dispense in some im pediments. Imposition of Hands. — An action denot ing from the earliest times the con ferring of blessing and grace ; an es sential part of Confirmation and Holy Order. Improperia. — Verses expressing the reproaches of Christ to the Jewish people, which are sung during the Adoration of the Cross on Good Friday. Incarnation. — God the Son taking to Himself the nature of man; "the Word was made flesh." Incense. — Used in many ceremonies of the Church. It signifies the zeal with which the faithful should be consumed, the good odour of Chris tian virtue, the ascent of prayer to God. It was one of the gifts offered to Christ by the Magi. Index. — A list of books of which the reading is prohibited by the Holy See. Indulgence. — A remission granted by the Church of the temporal punish ment which often remains due to sin after its guilt has been forgiven. By a partial indulgence, part of the temporal punishment of sin is re mitted ; by a plenary indulgence, the whole is remitted to persons rightly disposed. Indult. — A license granted by the Pope A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 719 authorizing an exception from the common law of the Church. The Lenten Indult is a familiar example. Infallibility, Papal.— That the Pope cannot err when he speaks ex cathe dra, i. e., when, speaking as Shep herd and Teacher of all Christians, he defines a doctrine, concerning faith or morals, to be held by the whole Church. Infused Virtues. — Certain good dispo sitions given us, together with sanc tifying grace at our justification; thus Faith, Hope, and Charity, and moral virtues, are infused or poured into our souls at baptism. Infusion. — iBaptism is now generally given by infusion, i. e., pouring wa ter on the head, not by immersion. In petto, Cardinals. — Those appoint ed by the Pope in consistory, their names not being disclosed, but kept secret in his breast until a later time. Inquisition. — A tribunal for the dis covery and prevention of heresy, in stituted by the Holy See in the thir teenth century, and generally ad ministered by the Order of St. Domi nic. Since Sixtus V., the chief au thority is vested in a Congregation of twelve Cardinals, over which the Pope himself presides, and whose de cisions have an especial authority. It is also called the Holy Office. The Roman Inquisition must not be con founded with the Spanish, which was more secular and political in character. Inspiration of Scripture. — A superna tural impulse by which God direct ed the authors of the canonical books to write down certain matter predetermined by Him. The sacred writers are described as inspired be cause God breathed into them, or suggested the thoughts which they wrote down (cf. Job. xxii. 8.) Institute B. V. M. (Dames Anglaises), the only Religious Order of purely English origin instituted since the Reformation. Founded by Mary Ward (formerly a Poor Clare) early in the seventeenth century. Intention. — An actual intention is one existing and adverted to at the mo ment; a virtual intention is one which is existing, and really causing the action, although not adverted to. An habitual intention is a past one not retracted, but not morally in fluencing the action, or else simply the facility of doing anything, con tracted by frequent practice, such as may be found in those who are asleep or intoxicated. Interdict. — An ecclesiastical censure by which persons are debarred from the use of certain sacraments, from all the divine offices, and from Christian burial. Interdicts are lo cal or personal, or may strike both place and persons, e. g., a province and its inhabitants. Internucio. — A Papal Envoy to a minor court. Interstices. — The intervals required between the reception of the various Orders of the Church. Introit.— Meaning entrance, a word applied to the anthem and psalm re cited by the priest on ascending the altar at the beginning of Mass. Irregularity. — An impediment disab ling those who incur it from receiv ing or exercising the Order of the Church. Itinerary. — A form of prayer given in the Breviary to be used when setting out on a journey. Jansenism. — A heresy which spread in the seventeenth century, regarding the relation of grace to free will; afterwards associated with extreme rigorism as to spiritual matters, un der pretext of restoring the ancient dicipline of the Church. Jesuits. — Members of the Society of Jesus, instituted by St. Ignatius Lo yola in 1534-40. Jesus Christ. — God the Son made man for us. He is truly and was always God, having one and the same na ture with God the Father from all eternity; He is truly man from the time of His Incarnation, having a body and soul like ours. Thus there are two natures in Jesus Christ, the 720 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. nature of God and the nature of man; but there is only one Person, which is the Person of God the Son.' The name of Jesus (Feast second Sunday after Epiphany) means Sav iour. Josephites. — A teaching Institute founded in 1817 in Belgium for the education of the commercial and in dustrial classes. Joseph, Sisters of St. — A congrega tion begun at Autun early in the nineteenth century, and confirmed in 1854. Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary. — 1. The Annunciation ; 2. The Visita tion; 3. The Nativity; 4. The Pre sentation; 5. The Finding in the Temple. Joys of Mary. — 1. The Annunciation; 2. The Visitation; 3. The Nativity; 4. The Epiphany; 5. The Finding in the Temple ; 6. The Resurrection ; 7. The Ascension. St. Thomas of Canterbury used to recite seven Aves daily in honour of them. Jubilee. — A solemn plenary indulgence with additional privileges; a cele bration at the twenty-fifth or fiftieth year. (cf. Levit. xxv. 10-16). Judgment, Particular. — The judgment of everyone at death, as well as at the Last Day; ''It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this the judgment" (Hebr. ix. 27). Jurisdiction. — Power over the mysti cal Body of Christ, which includes a right of governing the faithful at large and judging the individual conscience before God. Besides the power of Order which Christ gave His Apostles — that is, besides mak ing them bishops and priests, by giv ing them power to offer sacrifice and forgive sins — He gave them what is called a mission or jurisdiction (St. John xx. 21, Rom. x. 14, 15). This jurisdiction they did not transmit; bishops now receive their jurisdic tion through the Bishop of Rome, successor of St. Peter. A confes sor must have jurisdiction given to him before he can act validly ; ab solution given by a priest without jurisdiction is void, except at the hour of death. Justice. — A cardinal virtue; consisting in a constant and enduring will to give to each one what is due to him. The word is sometimes used in Scripture for uprightness in general. Justification. — Not only the remission of sin, but the sanctifying and re newing of the interior man by the voluntary reception of grace and gifts, whence a man, from being un just and an enemy, becomes just and a friend of God, that he may be heir according to the hope of life ever lasting. (Tit. iii. 7). Keys, Power of the. — The power of binding and loosing given by Christ to St. Peter (Matt. xvi. 18-19), and through him and his successors to the bishops and priests of the Church. Kyrie Eleison. — Lord have mercy upon us ; the original Greek, which is still retained in the prayers of the Church. Lacticinia. — Food made with milk or other cognate substances, for the use of which leave is given on certain fasting days. Laetare Sunday. — The fourth of Lent, named from the first word of the In troit (Is. lxvi). Lamps. — Not only used for light, but burnt as a mark of honour before the altar or a statue or picture, and of obligation before the Blessed Sac rament. They must contain oil of olives. Language of the Church.— Mass is not said in any language still spoken. Latin, Coptic, Etmopic are dead lan guages; the Greek, Syriac, Armen ian, and Slavonic, used in the Litur gy, are different from the modern tongues of the same name. Last Blessing. — The plenary indul gence given by those who have apos tolic faculty to the faithful at the hour of death. Lateran, Bascilica of St. John. — The chief or Cathedral church of Rome, founded by Constantine. Over the entrance is the inscription, "The Mo- A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 721 ther and Head of all the Churches of the City and the World." Five General Councils have been held at the Lateran. Latria. — (From a Greek word meaning absolute submission), the honour and worship due to God alone. Lauds. — See Office. Laura. — An aggregation of separate cells tenanted by the early monks of the desert; an intermediate stage be tween eremitical and monastic life. Lavabo. — The washing of the priest's hands in the Mass (Ps. xxv. i) ; a term also applied to the dish, cloth, or place used for washing hands. Lay Brothers.— Those members of a religious community who do not re ceive Holy Orders. Lazarists. — Another name for Vincen- tians, from the college of St. Lazare at Paris. Lection. — Synonymous with lesson. Lector. — One of the Minor Orders, conferring the office of reading the lessons in church. Legate. — An ecclesiastical representing the Holy See and armed with its au thority. Lent. — The forty days' fast before Eas ter, beginning on Ash- Wednesday. Libera. — The last Responsory in sol emn Matins for the dead, also said or sung at funerals. Limbo. — i. A place of rest where the souls of the just who died before Christ were detained, because none could go up to heaven before our Saviour. 2. A place where unbaptiz- ed infants and any others, who die in original but not actual sin, spend their eternity in natural happiness, but without the vision of God. Litany. — A form of united prayer by alternate sentences. Three forms are commonly used in public worship: 1. The Litany of the Saints; 2. Lit any of the Blessed Virgin (otherwise the Litany of Loreto) ; 3. The Lit any of the Holy Name of Jesus. Liturgical Books. — The chief are the Missal, Breviary, Ritual, Pontifical, Ceremonial of Bishops, and Martyn- ology. The Gradual, Antiphonary 4t>-C F vol. 2 and Hymnary contain the necessary plain chant. Liturgy. — The rites in the Western and Eastern Church for the celebra tion of the Holy Eucharist; (more generally) all forms of public wor ship approved by the Church. Loreto. — A town near Ancona in Italy, to which the Holy House of Nazar eth was transported by the ministry of angels in 1294. Lourdes. — A town on the French side of the Pyrenees, much frequented as a pilgrimage since the apparitions of B. V. M. in 1858 to Bernadette Sou- birous in a grotto by the riverside. Lutherans. — Followers of Luther, whose most distinctive tenet was jus tification by faith only, without good works. The Catholic faith on this point was fully defined by the Coun.- cil of Trent. Magnificat. — The Canticle of the Bless ed Virgin Mary (Luke i.) said or sung at Vespers. Malta, Knights of. — A Military Reli gious Order founded in 11 18 at Jeru salem for the reception and care of pilgrims; called also Hospitallers or Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. The Island of Malta was given to them by the Emperor Charles V. in 1530, but was taken from them by Buonaparte in 1799. Manichees. — Heretics named after Manes, who, with other false doc trines, adopted the ancient Persian belief in two supreme beings, one good, the other evil, the material world being made by the latter. This heresy frequently reappeared under different forms or names. St. Augus tine followed it before his conver sion. Maniple. — One of the vestments worn at Mass by the priest and sacred ministers; it is placed upon the left arm of a sub-deacon at his ordina tion. Mantelletta. — A short cloak without sleeves, worn by prelates. A longer one called mantellone is worn by prelates of an inferior rank. 722 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Morists.— A Congregation founded by Father Colin at Lyons and ap proved by Gregory XVI. in 1836 un der the name of "Society of Mary," specially zealous in missionary coun tries. There are Marist Sisters who perform good works in a similar spirit; also Marist brothers employ ed in teaching. Maronites. — A number of monasteries and a Catholic population in the Le banon, having a special rite. Marriage, Mixed. — A marriage be tween a Catholic and one who, though baptized, does not profess the Catholic faith. The Church has always forbidden mixed marriages, and considered them unlawful and pernicious; but she sometimes per mits them, by granting a dispensa tion, for very grave reasons and un der special conditions. Martyrology. — A catalogue of Mar tyrs and other Saints, arranged ac cording to the calendar, with short notices of each. Mary. — The name of the Virgin Moth er of God (Feast in September). Mass. — The Sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, really present on the altar under the appearances of bread and wine, and offered to God for the living and the dead. It is one and the same Sacrifice with that of the Cross, inasmuch as Christ, who offered Himself a bleeding Vic tim on the Cross to His Heavenly Father, continues to offer Himself in an unbloody manner on the altar, through the ministry of His priests. Mass, Ends of. — 'The Sacrifice of the Mass is offered for four ends; first, to give supreme honour and glory to God; secondly, to thank Him for all His benefits; thirdly, to obtain par don for our sins; and, fourthly, to obtain all other graces and blessings through Jesus Christ. Mass, High or Solemn. — With incense, music, deacon and sub-deacon, etc. Mass, Low. — Without music, the priest saying and not singing the Mass throughout. If the Mass is sung, but without deacon and sub-deacon, it is called Missa Cantata. Matrimony. — The Sacrament which sanctifies the- contract of a Christian marriage, and gives a special grace to those who receive it worthily. Melchites. — From a dogmatic and lit urgical point of view these are sim ply Greeks living in Egypt or Syria. See United Greeks. The United Melchites retain the liturgies of St. Chrysostom and St. Basil. They re turned to the unity of the Church under the Greek Patriarch of Anti- och in 1686. Mellifluous Doctor. — St. Bernard; Memento. — The remembrance of the living or of the dead, which is made in the Mass. Mendicant Orders. — Religious, who, by their rule, live entirely upon alms. In many cases, however, the rules have been subsequently mitigated in this respect. Menology. — From the Greek word for a month, a calendar containing the names of saints; equivalent to Mar tyrology. Mercy, Order of Our Lady of (de Mercede). — An Order (first mili tary, and afterwards religious), for the redemption of captives, founded in 1223 by St. Peter Nolasco and James I., King of Arragon, together with St. Raymund of Pennafort, their confessor, Our Lady having appear ed to each of these in distinct vis ions the same night. Mercy, Sisters of. — A Congregation founded in Dublin, in 1827, by Cath erine McAuley, for carrying on all works of mercy, spiritual and cor poral. Each convent is independent of every other, and is under the con trol of the bishop of the diocese. Merit. — The proportion which exists between an action and its reward. To merit supernatural reward an ac tion must be performed for God, done freely, and in a state of grace, and there must be a promise on the part of God, without which we have no claim on Him. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 723 Metropolitan. — An archbishop who has suffragan bishops. Millennium. — A supposed reign of Christ with His saints upon earth for a thousand years before the end of the world. Belief in this, arising from a misinterpretation of Apoc. xx., was widely spread in early times. Minims, Order of. — An austere Order of mendicant Friars, founded in the fifteenth century by St. Francis of Paula. He called them Minims (i. e., the least), to humble them even be low the Franciscans, who call them selves Friars Minor. Minister. — One who serves at the Altar, especially at Mass. Minister (of a Sacrament). — One who has the power of validly adminis tering a sacrament. The minister must use the correct matter and form and have an actual or virtual inten tion of performing the sacrament, or at least of doing what the Catholic Church does in it. For him to act lawfully, faith and a state of grace are also required, but the absence of these does not effect the validity. A priest is the ordinary minister of Baptism, Holy Euchar ist, Penance and Extreme Unction, a bishop of Confirmation and Holy Order. In Matrimony, the contract ing parties themselves are ministers as well as subjects, the parish priest being present as the appointed wit ness on behalf of the Church. Ministers of the Sick. — A religious Or der founded by St. Camillus of Lel- lis, in 1586, for tending the sick and dying. Minor, Order of Friars. — The title of the Franciscans. Miracle. — An effect above human or natural power. Missal. — The liturgical book contain ing the Ordinary and Proper of Masses according to the Calendar. Mission.— -A course of sermons and ex ercises on the Eternal Truths, cor responding to the retreats of private individuals. The district placed un der the charge of a priest is called a mission in England. Missions, Pious Society of the. — Founded in Rome by the Ven. Vin cent Pallotti, in 1835. Mitre. — Head-dress worn by bishops, abbots, and some others. Monastery. — A dwelling where men or women lead a coenobitic life under rule and vows. St. Pachomius, who built monasteries in the Thelbaid in 315, is regarded as their originator. Monk. — One who leaves the world to practice the counsels of perfection in a monastic order. St. Antony the Great was the first to gather disciples round him to be trained in virtue. Monothelites. — Heretics who held that Christ had only one will. It was de fined at the sixth General Council (at Constantinople) that Christ "has two natural wills, without division, change, partition, confusion, not con trary to each other, but the human will following and subject to the di vine." Monstrance. — The vessel in which the Blessed Sacrament is placed for Ex position or Benediction. Month of Mary. — May, which is spec ially set apart for devotion to Our Lady. Month's Mind.— Special prayers and Mass offered for the dead on the thirtieth day. Morganatic Marriage. — Marriage of a prince with a woman of inferior con dition, which does not raise her to his own rank. It gives legitimacy, though not right of succession, to his children. Moral Sin. — A grievous offence against God. It is called mortal sin because it kills the soul and deserves hell. Motet. — A piece of church music of moderate length, adapted to Latin words. The term was originally con fined to those intended to be sung during the Offertory of the Mass. Mother of God. — The Blessed Virgin Mary, because Jesus Christ her Son, who was born of her as man, is not only man, but is also truly God. She is our mother also, because, being the brethren of Jesus, we are the children of Mary. 724 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Mozetta. — A cape with hood, worn by prelates and other privileged persons. Mundatory. — A linen cloth used to purify the chalice at Mass, and for similar purposes. Nativity, Feast of the. — Christmas Day, 25th December. — of B. V. M. September 8th. Nazareth, Sisters of. — They depend on alms collected daily, and provide a permanent home for aged and in firm poor, and orphan and incurable children. Neophyte (newly grown). — Term ap plied in the primitive Church to con verts newly baptized. Nestorians. — Heretics who hold that there are two persons as well as two natures in Christ. Nestorius was condemned by the General Council of Ephesus in 431, which defined that Mary was the Mother of God. Nimbus. — A circular halo or glory de picted over the head of Christ or the Saints. Nocturn. — Part of Matins in the Di vine Office. Notre Dame, Sisters of. — Founded at Amiens in 1797, and subsequently transferred to Namur, by the Ven. Julie Billiart, for the instruction of children, principally of the poor. Novena. — A nine days' prayer, made in preparation for a feast, or at other times, after the example of the Apos tles before Pentecost. Novice. — A member of a religious com munity who is undergoing the proba tion required before final and com plete entry or profession. Nun. — A member of a religious Order of women. Nunc Dimittis. — The Canticle of Sim eon (Luke ii.), a part of Compline. Nuncio. — A Papal Envoy, correspond ing to the ambassador of a secular State. Oath. — Calling God to witness the truth of what we assert, or to our sincerity in what we promise. Obedience. — (1) A moral virtue; (2) One of the vows taken in religious Orders; (3) Voluntary, an Evangeli cal counsel. Oblates of Mary Immaculate. — A so ciety of priests founded by Charles de Mazenod, afterwards Bishop of Marseilles to undertake missions, etc. There are also Sisters under the title of the Immaculate Conception. Oblates of St. Charles. — 'Congregation of secular priests who "offer" them selves to the bishop for any work in his diocese. Founded by St. Charles Borromeo in 1578. Obligation, Holidays of. — Days on which we are bound to hear Mass and rest from servile works. Be sides Sundays, those observed in England are : Christmas Day, the Circumcision, the Epiphany, the As cension, Corpus Christi, SS. Peter and Paul, the Assumption of our Lady, and All Saints. Also in Scot land St. Andrew; and in Ireland, St. Patrick and the Annunciation. Octave. — The continued celebration of a feast until the eighth or octave day. Offertory. — The offering of the ele ments in the Mass after the Gospel; hence become the general name for voluntary offerings of the faithful in church. Office, Divine. — A form of prayer con sisting of psalms, lessons, hymns, etc., used by all the clergy and by religious of both sexes. This office is divided into several parts, called the seven Canonical Hours, viz. : Matins, or Nocturnal Office, to which are annexed the Lauds, or morning praises of God; the first, third, sixth and ninth hours of prayer called, Prime, Tierce, Sext and None; Ves pers, or even-song; and Compline. Office of B. V. M., Little.— A short of fice in honour of the Mother of God, following the order of the Canonical Hours. It is given a place in the Breviary and is daily recited in many religious communities and by others of the faithful. Oils, Holy. — Olive oil solemnly bless ed by the Bishop on Thursday in Holy Week. There are three kinds, viz.: 1. Oil of Catechumens, used in the ceremonies before Baptism. 2. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 725 Oil of the sick, used in Extreme Unction. 3. Chrism, or oil mixed with balm, used in Baptism, Confir mation, Holy Orders, and other con secrations and blessings. Old Catholics. — Heretics taking this name, who deny the Catholic faith regarding the primacy and infallibil ity of the Roman Pontiff, defined by the General Vatican Council in 1870. They have also manifested their con tumacy by holding communion with other false sects. Oratory. — A place adapted for prayer. Oratory, Congregation of the. — A Con gregation of secular priests, founded by St. Phillip Neri at Rome in the sixteenth century; introduced into England in 1848. Order, Holy. — The Sacrament by which Bishops, priests and other ministers of the Church are ordain ed, and receive power and grace to perform their sacred duties. There are seven Orders which are receiv ed in succession : Ostiarius or door keeper, Exorcist, Lector, Acolyte, Sub-deacon, Deacon, Priest. The first four are called Minor Orders, and the three last Holy Orders. A Bishop possesses the fulness of the priesthood, that is, he has not a part, but the whole of that power of Or der which our Lord gave to His Apostles, having the power of con ferring the Holy Ghost by the im position of hands, and so continuing the Church's hierarchy. Orders, Religious. — Societies of men or women united in the desire to re nounce the world, and lead a perfect life. They are bound by vows to the observance of the Evangelical coun sels, as well as to live according to certain rules. Some orders (contem plative) are entirely devoted to re tirement and prayer, others (active) unite with these missionary or other good works. Ordinary. — A name given to the Bis hop of a diocese, because he has ordi nary (not delegated) jurisdiction and right to perform all ecclesiasti cal functions in his diocese. Ordo Divini Officii. — The calendar of divine offices for the use of the clergy. Original Sin. — That guilt and stain of sin which we inherit from Adam, who was the origin and head of all man kind. Ostiarius or Doorkeeper. — One of the minor orders. Palla. — A small linen cloth to cover the chalice; originally part of the corporal. Pallium. — A band of white wool with four purple crosses worked on it, worn on the shoulders. Every year on the feast of St. Agnes, two lamps are brought by the apostolic sub- deacons into the church of St. Agnes at Rome, while the Agnus Dei is being sung. They are presented at the altar and received by two Can ons of the Lateran who place them in the care of the nuns of St. Frances of Rome, at Torre de' Specchj, who make the palliums from their wool. These are laid by the sub-deacons on the tomb of St. Peter, where they remain all night. The pallium is worn by the Pope, and sent by him to patriarchs, primates, and archbish ops, in token that they possess the fulness of the episcopal office. Palm. — The emblem of martyrdom, and also in general of heavenly re ward (Apoc. vii. 9). Palms, Blessed. — On Palm Sunday palm and olive branches are blessed, and borne in the hands of the faith ful in remembrance of the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem. Paraclete. — A name of the Holy Spirit, rendered advocate by some, by oth ers comforter. Parasceve. — Preparation, the day be fore the Sabbath ; retained as a name for Good Friday in the Liturgy. Paschal Candle. — A large candle sol emnly blessed and lighted on Holy Saturday, remaining till Ascension Day at the gospel side of the altar; a symbol of the fiery pillar which led the Israelites from Egypt, and of Christ, our never failing light. 726 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Paschal Precept. — The fourth com mandment of the Church, "To re ceive the Blessed Sacrament at least once a year, and that at Easter or the-eabouts." Paschal Time. — From Easter Day to the end of the Octave of Pentecost. Passion. — The su gs of Christ. the narrative of the same in the Gos pels sung with special solemnity in Holy Week. Passion Music. — A solemn plain chant melody, of early but uncertain date. The text is divided between three "Deacons of the Passion;" one of whom sings the words spoken by Christ, another the narrative of the Evangelist, and the third the utter ances of the Apostles and others, The exclamations of the crowd, how ever, are more generally sung by the choir. Passion Sunday. — The fifth Sunday of Lent. Crucifixes and images are veiled, and the Gloria Patri omitted at Mass. Passion-Tide. — The season from Pas sion Sunday to Holy Saturday. Passionists. — A Congregation of Dis calced Clerks, founded by St. Paul of the Cross in the eighteenth cen tury; introduced into England in 1842. Paten. — A plate used to receive the Host at Mass. Paternoster. — The Our Father, or the Lord's Prayer. Patriarch. — The highest grade in the hierarchy. After the supreme Pon tiff, there are four great patriarch ates : Alexandria, Antioch, Con stantinople, and Jerusalem. There are three minor patriarchs, in Spain (of the Indies), of Libson, and of Venice. Patron Saints. — Those whose name has been received at Baptism or Con firmation, or who have been chosen as the object of special devotion. There are also Patron Saints of ci ties and countries; these cannot be chosen by the clergy alone, but the choice requires the consent of the people given by the secret suffrages of their representatives, especially convoked for the purpose. Pax. — The kiss of peace in the Mass; an instrument used for the same pur pose. Pectoral Cross. — A small cross of pre cious metal (sometimes adorned by jewels), worn on the breast by Bis hops and Abbots as a mark of their office. Canons have sometimes the privilege of wearing it. Pelagians. — Early heretics, who de nied original sin and the absolute ne cessity of divine grace; their doc trines, however, varied at different periods. Pelican. — An emblem of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, from the ancient idea that a pelican fed her young with the blood from her own breast. Penance, Sacrament of. — The Sacra ment by which the sins we have committed after baptism are for given. This forgiveness is conveyed to our soul by the priest's absolu tion, joined with contrition, confes sion and satisfaction. A priest, how ever, (except at the hour of death), cannot absolve unless he has been approved and received jurisdiction, faculties being given him. Penitential Psalms. — A name given to Psalms, 6, 31, 37, 50, 101, 129, 142, which express sorrow for sin and de sire for pardon. Pentateuch.— The first five books of the Old Testament, attributed to Moses. Pentecost. — Feast kept on the seventh Sunday after Easter, to commemo rate the Descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles at Jerusalem. The name is taken from the Jewish feast, when first fruits were offered and the giving of the law celebrated, which took place fifty days after the pasch, and passage of the Red Sea. Perseverance, Final.— The special gift in virtue of which a man remains in a state of grace in the moment of death. Person. — The substance individuality complete of an intellectual nature. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 727 Peter's Pence. — Originally an annual tax of one penny for every house in England, paid to the Holy See; now a general term for collections made for the support of the Holy Father. Physician, Duty of. — He is bound by his state to urge the duty of confes sion upon the sick whom he attends in any serious illness. Pieta. — Representation of Our Lady with the Body of Christ taken down from the Cross. Pontifical. — Relating to bishops; a book containing the ritual of Episco pal ceremonies. Pontificalia. — The ornaments which a high dignitary of the church uses in officiating pontifically; they are — I. buskins, sandals, gloves, dalmatic, tunicle, ring, pectoral cross, mitre (white, gold, or precious) ; 2. cross, throne, faldstool, gremial, ewer, can dle, canon. Poor Clares. — The second Order of the Franciscans, founded by St. Clare at Assisi in 1224, an austere order of nuns. See Colettines. Poor, Little Sisters of the. — This so ciety was founded in 1840 in France for the support and relief of the aged and infirm poor, who are chiefly maintained by the Sisters begging from door to door. Pope. — A word signifying father, ap plied to the Bishop of Rome who is the Vicar of Christ, and visible head of the Church on earth, because he is the successor of St. Peter. See Infallibility. Portiuncula. — A little church near As sisi repaired by St. Francis. The In dulgence known by this name on the 2nd of August was granted to this church at the request of the Saint and afterwards extended to other Franciscan churches. Possession, Diabolical. — A state in which an evil spirit, by God's permis sion, inhabits the body. When the devil attacks a man in a somewhat similar manner from without, it is called obsession. Prayer. — The raising up of the mind and heart to God by thinking of Him, by adoring, praising, and thanking Him; and by begging of Him all blessings for soul and body. Preachers, Order of. — The official title of the Dominicans given them by Innocent III. Predella. — The plane immediately in front of the altar. Predestination. — The decree of God from the beginning to give His elect eternal glory, and the means to ob tain it. Precious Blood. — The Blood of Christ, so-called because it is the price by which we were ransomed. (Feast on the first Sunday in July). Preface of the Mass. — The introduc tion to the Canon, terminating with the Sanctus. It varies with the sea son or feast. Prelate. — One who is preferred above others in honour or jurisdiction. Premonstratensians. — An order of reg ular canons founded by St. Norbert in 1 1 19; also called Norbertines, and in England formerly White Canons. Presbytery. — Dwelling of a priest or presbyter. Prescription. — The acquisition of an object or a right on the strength of a long undisturbed possession. Presentation. — 1. The fourth joyful mystery of the Rosary, commemor ating the Presentation of Christ in the Temple forty days after His Na tivity. 2. Feast (November 21st), when the Presentation of our Lady in the Temple at the age of three years is celebrated. There is an Or der bearing this latter title (founded 1777 in Ireland) for the Christian education of the poor as well as the rich. Presumption. — A foolish expectation of salvation without making use of the necessary means to obtain it. Priest. — One ordained to participate in a special manner in the ministry and priesthood of our Lord. It is the office of a priest "to offer, bless, rule, preach, baptize." The matter and form of ordination to the priest hood are: — 1. The imposition of hands by the Bishop, with the words 728 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. which follow ; also probably ; 2. The delivery of the chalice with wine and the paten and host with these words : "Receive the power of offering sacri-. fice to God for the living and the dead in the name of the Lord ;" and, 3. A second imposition of hands with the words, "Receive the Holy Ghost; whose sins thou shalt forgive shall be forgiven them; and whose sins thou shalt retain, shall be re tained." Prior, Prioress. — The title of a super ior of a religious house in most Or ders. Privileged Altar. — An altar with a ple nary indulgence for one soul in Pur gatory attached to all Masses said there for the dead. Sometimes the privilege is personal to the priest. Processions. — In use for triumph or supplication in nearly all nations, even before Christ. Besides those in Holy Week, the chief public peni tential ones are on the Feast of St. Mark (25th April) and the Rogation days. The feast of Corpus Christi, above others, is celebrated by festal processions of the Blessed Sacra ment. Because of the present afflic tions of the Church, processions of the Rosary are ordered during the month of October. Profession, Religious. — Taking vows in an Order or Congregation after pre vious probation and noviciate. Propaganda. — The Sacred Congrega tion of Cardinals and others de pro paganda fide, entrusted with the in terests of the Church in missionary countries. Also a college under the direction of the same. Propagation of the Faith, Association of. — An association of seculars founded about 1819-22 by Pauline Jaricot in Lyons, but now spread throughout the entire world. The contributions of the members (one halfpenny per week) form the chief support of Catholic missions to the heathen. Propositions, Condemned. — Sentences extracted from the writings of an author which are dangerous to the I faithful, and are therefore publicly condemned by the Holy See, and noted as temerarious, erroneous, heretical, etc., as the case may be. Protomartyr. — The first Martyr, St. Stephen; of England, St. Alban. Protonotary. — One of the first Notar ies of the Apostolic See, successors of those who in the early ages recorded the Acts of the Martyrs. Province. — 1. The territory in which the bishops are suffragans of one archbishop or metropolitan. 2 (In religious orders) that in which the members are under one provincial superior. Provincial. — (Of an Order) a Superior appointed to have authority within the limit of a certain province. Provost. — The head of a collegiate or religious body; the chief dignitary of many cathedral chapters, as in England now (in other chapters the head is called Dean or Archdeacon). Prudence. — A cardinal virtue ; by which is determined what should be done, and what avoided. Purgatory. — A place where the souls suffer for a time after death, if they depart this life in venial sin, or if they have not fully paid the debt of temporal punishment due to those sins, the guilt of which has been for given. Pyx. — A vessel in which the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. Quasi-Domicile. — Residence in a place with the intention of remaining there a considerable time, though not per manently; this causes any one ac quiring it to be subject to the laws, and entitled to the privileges of the locality. Quinquagesima Sunday.— The Sunday immediately before Lent, of which the first Sunday is called "in Quad ragesima." Reception into the Church. — The re conciliation of converts who have probably been baptized; consisting generally in a profession of faith, conditional baptism, and general con fession. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 729 Redeemer. — A title of Christ, because His Precious Blood is the price by which we were ransomed. Redemptorists. — The Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, founded by St. Alphonsus Liguori in 1732. Refectory. — The place set apart for meals in religious houses. Regina Coeli. — The antiphon of the B. V. M. for paschal time ; also used in place of the Angelus morning, noon, and evening during that season. Regulars. — Those bound by the three vows of religion, and observing a common rule (regula) of life, accord ing to the Order or Congregation to which they belong. Relics. — The dead bodies or bones of holy persons, as also other things which have belonged to them in their mortal life. A more than ordinary veneration is due to the wood of the Cross, and other instruments of Christ's Passion. Religion, Virtue of. — By which we give to God that honour which is due to Him, and that, not only inwardly in our mind, but externally in our words, deeds and gestures. Reliquary. — A case for relics which, when placed therein, must be secure ly sealed and authenticated by com petent authority before being expos ed for veneration. Requiem. — Mass or Office for the Dead. Rescript. — The answer to a petition, given in writing by a prince. Reserved Case. — A sin, the absolution from which is reserved to the Bishop, or to the Holy See. Restitution. — To restore ill-gotten goods, without which the sin of tak ing or possessing them will not be forgiven; or to restore the good name of another who has been injur ed by speaking ill of him. Resurrection of Christ. — The Soul of our Lord, which had been in Limbo since He died, was united again to His Sacred Body, and Christ rose from the dead, immortal and impass ible. Retreat. — Retirement from worldly in tercourse for a time spent in silence and spiritual exercises. The ordi nary duration is three to ten days. Ring, Episcopal. — This is given to a bishop at his consecration as a mark of dignity and also as a seal and token of fidelity to the Church, which, which is the spouse of God. Bishops generally wear a ring with an amethyst, Cardinals with a sap phire, the Pope with a ruby ; but this is a matter of custom rather than rule. Ritual. — The approved order of a cere mony ; the book in which is set down the order of administration of the Sacraments, burials, various bless ings, etc. Rochet. — A linen vestment with close sleeves, worn by Bishops, Abbots, and others. Rogation-Days. — Three days before Ascension Day, when there are pub lic processions with the Litanies, and for which there is a special Mass. Rosary of the B. V. M. — A devotion in which fifteen decades — each consist ing of a Pater, ten Aves, and a Glor ia — are recited, and accompanied, each of them, by meditation on one of fifteen mysteries of our Lord, or of our Blessed Lady. Of the fifteen mysteries five are called Joyful, five Sorrowful and five Glorious. The prayers are counted by the use of beads, arranged in order for five de cades ; this is called a chaplet. When the beads have been duly blessed, many indulgences can be gained by those who use or carry them. The use of beads is very ancient, but the Rosary was given and taught by our Lady herself to St. Dominic as a means of overcoming the heresy then prevalent. Rota. — The supreme tribunal at Rome for the decision of questions of law, both civil and canon. Rubrics. — Directions as to ceremonies which occur in liturgical books, so- called from their being generally printed in red letters. 730 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. Ruthenian Catholics. — Christians who. use the Greek liturgy translated into Old Slavonic, but own obedience to the Pope. See United Greeks. Sal»bath. — The seventh day, on which God rested after creation, ordered to be kept holy by the third command ment. The Church, in the time of the Apostles, transferred the obliga tion from the seventh to the first day of the week in honour of the Resurrection of Christ. Sacrament. — An outward sign of in ward grace, ordained by Jesus Christ, by which grace is given to our souls. There are seven: Baptism, Confir mation, Holy Eucharist, Penance, Extreme Unction, Holy Order, and Matrimony. When a Sacrament is given there must always be i, things for matter; 2, words as form; 3, the person of a minister having the in tention of doing what the Church does. Sacramental Grace. — A title to certain actual graces, to enable us to live up to the end of the Sacrament which we have received. Sacramentals. — Certain practices of piety, commonly so called on account of a certain similarity to the Sacra ments, e. g., holy water, and other things blessed by the Church. These do not of themselves give grace, but in virtue of the prayers of the Church help to excite good dispositions in the soul. Sacred Heart of Jesus. — Feast, Friday, (or Sunday), after the Octave, of Corpus Christi. The Sacred Heart receives supreme divine adoration, being inseparably united to the Sec ond Person of the Holy Trinity. It is the symbol of the love of our Lord in dying for our redemption. Many dioceses have been consecrated to the Sacred Heart and the festival has been raised to the first rank. This devotion has become popular in the Church since the apparition of our Lord to B. Margaret Mary Alaco- que, a Visitation nun, in the seven teenth century. Sacred Heart, Religious of the. — An Order of nuns founded at Paris in 1800 by the Ven. Mother Barat, principally for the education of girls. Sacrifice. — The offering of a victim by a Priest to God alone in testimony of His being Sovereign Lord of all things. Sacrilege. — A profanation of anything holy or dedicated to God — persons, places, things. Sacristy. — A place adjoining a church, where the sacred vessels and vest ments are kept, and where the clergy prepare for ecclesiastical functions. Sainte Union des Sacres Coeurs. — Founded at Douai, with a rule chief ly taken from that of the nuns of the Visitation; for the education of girls of every rank. Salesians. — A Congregation under the patronage of St. Francis of Sales, founded at Turin by Don Bosco, and confirmed in 1874 for active work. There are others under the same patronage. Salette, La. — A mountain in Dauphia, become a place of pilgrimage since 1846, when our Lady appeared there to two peasant children. Salt. — An emblem of wisdom; used in blessing holy water, and in the cere mony of baptism. Salutation, the Angelic. — The Ave Maria (Hail Mary). Salve Regina.— Or "Hail, Holy Queen," the antiphon of the B. V. M. from Whitsuntide to Advent; also used as a prayer throughout the year. Sanctifying Grace. — That by which a man is constituted permanently just or holy, the friend of God and His Son by adoption. Charity always accom panies sanctifying grace, and many great theologians consider that they are one and the same thing; for all the effects and characteristics of the former are attributed in Holy Scrip ture to the latter. Sanctuary. — The part of a church where the altar stands; a holy place to which pilgrimages are made. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 731 Sanhedrim. — The Supreme Council of the Jewish nation at the time of Christ (Matt. v. 22), consisting of seventy members (Numb. xi. 16). Satisfaction. — Doing the penance given us by the priest in confession. It is also made by good works, mortifica tion and gaining indulgences. Scala Santa. — A flight of twenty-eight marble steps from the house of Pilate at Jerusalem, which our Saviour as cended; they were brought to Rome in 326 by St. Helena, and are fre quented by pilgrims, who ascend them on their knees. Scallop Shell. — The sign of a pilgrim age made to the shrine of St. James at Compostella; hence also become the emblem of that Apostle himself. Scandal. — To lead another to commit sin; a sin against the fifth command ment, being equivalent to spiritual murder. Scapular. — A, part of the religious ha bit, covering the shoulders, (scapu lae), part being in front and part be hind. The scapular generally worn by the faithful consists of two small squares of woollen cloth joined by two strings. This represents the habit of a religious Order to which the wearer is associated. The prin cipal ones are: 1. Brown, of B. V. M. of Mount Carmel. Our Lady ap peared to St. Simon Stock at Cam bridge in the thirteenth century, and promised, as a singular privilege for the Carmelite Order, that whosoever wore it at their death should not suf fer eternally (Carmelites) ; 2. White, of the Holy Trinity (Trinitarians) ; 3. Black, of the Seven Dolours (Ser- vites) ; 4. Blue, of the Immaculate Conception, to which unusually large indulgences have been granted (Theatines) ; 5. Red, of the Passion, revealed to a Sister of Charity in 1846, with the promise that those who wear it shall receive every Fri day a large increase of Faith, Hope, and Charity (blessed by Vincen- tians). It is necessary to have a scapular blessed and to be invested with it (but not on renewal). Schism. — Formal separation from the Church. Schismatics. — Those who refuse to be under the Supreme Pontiff and to communicate with the members of the Church subject to him. Scripture, Interpretation of. — The fol lowing words are in the profession of faith: — "I admit the Holy Scrip tures according to that sense which our Holy Mother, the Church, has held and does hold, to which it be longs to judge of the true sense and interpretation of the Scriptures ; neither will I ever take and interpret them otherwise than according to the unanimous consent of the Fath ers." In the literal sense the words signify certain things ; but sometimes God ordained that these things also should signify others, and this is a mystical or spiritual sense or mean ing. Thus St. Paul says that Ismael and Isaac were types of Jewish bond age and Christian freedom. Scruple. — A fear of actions being sin ful, without sufficient ground for it. Seal of Confession. — The obligation of keeping knowledge gained through sacramental confession secret, even at the cost of death. Secular Clergy. — The clergy of all ranks and orders serving Christ in the world not bound by vows. Semi-Double. — A feast of minor rank. Seminary. — A college for ecclesiastical students, to be provided in every dio- . cese according to the Council of Trent. Sentences, Master of. — Peter Lombard (1164) who wrote the four books of Sentences, for a long time the chief handbook in theological study. Septuagesima Sunday. — The third Sunday before Lent; violet vest ments begin to be used, and the use of Alleluia in the Divine Offices is discontinued until Easter. Septuagint (seventy). — The chief Greek version of the Old Testament, so called because it was approved and sanctioned by the Sanhedrim, or because, according to tradition, seventy-two men were employed on 732 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. the translation. It was probably made in the third century B. C. Most of the citations from the Old Testa ment in the New were out of it. Sepulchre. — The ordinary name for the place specially prepared, where the Blessed Sacrament remains from the Mass on Holy Thursday till the Of fice on Good Friday. Sepulchre, Cannonesses of the Holy. — An Order claiming its origin from the guardianship of the Holy Sepul chre, instituted by St. James the Less. Their habit was formerly white, but black is now worn in mourning for the Holy Sepulchre. Seraphic Doctor. — St. Bonaventure (1274). Seraphic Order.- — The Franciscans. Sequence. — A rhythm or prose between the Epistle and Gospel in certain Masses; "Victimae Paschali," at Easter;. "Veni Sancte Spiritus," at Pentecost; "Lauda Sion," on Corpus Christi ; "Stabat Mater," on the feast of the Seven Dolours ; and "Dies irae," in Masses for the Dead. Servile Work. — Occupation which em ploys the body rather than the mind. All unnecessary servile work is strictly prohibited on Sundays and feasts. Servites. — Order of the Servants of the Holy Virgin, founded in 1233 by seven Florentine Saints. The Third Order was founded in 1306 by St. Juliana Falconieri. Sexagesima Sunday. — The second Sun day before Lent. Simony. — To barter any sacred office or thing for money or temporal con sideration, so called from Simon Ma gus (Acts viii). Simple Feast. — The least in rank, the office differing little from that of a feria. Sin. — An offence against God by any thought, word, deed, or omission, against the law of God. It is either original or actual, mortal or venial. Sins of Others. — We are answerable for the sins of others when we either cause them, or share in them, through our own fault ; this may be by coun sel, command, consent, provocation, praise or flattery, concealment, part nership in the sin, silence, defending the ill done. Sodality. — An association of lay per sons meeting together for pious pur poses under certain rules. Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary. — 1. The Agony in the Garden; 2. The Scourging at the Pillar; 3. The Crowing with Thorns ; 4. The Carry ing of the Cross; 5. The Crucifixion. Soul. — The spiritual substance which is the principle of life in man, and is immortal. Species, Eucharistic. — The appearances of bread and wine which remain af ter consecration. See Accidents. Sponsor. — A surety, hence a name for a godparent at Baptism or Confirma tion. State of Grace. — To be free from mor tal sin, and pleasing to God. Stations, or Way of the Cross. — A de votion which commemorates four teen stages of our Lord's Passion, from Pilate's house to Mount Cal vary. Stations of the Churches of Rome. — Anciently processions with Litanies to extirpate the remains of idolatry, now indulgences to be gained by visiting churches appointed by the Pope on fixed days. These are nam ed in the Missal. Stigmata. — Wounds resembling those of Our Lord, miraculously produced in the bodies of some of the servants of God, but most notably in the case of Francis of Assisi (Feast, 17 Sep tember). The name is from Gal. vi. 17. Stocks. — Vessels in which the holy oils are kept. Stole. — A long narrow vestment worn at Mass, in the administration of the sacraments, and at other times by priests. It is placed over the left shoulder of a deacon when he is or dained. Stole-Fees. — Offerings made to priests who administer the sacraments, or perform other rites of the Church. A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 733 Stoup. — A vessel to contain holy water. Stylites. — From the Greek stylos, sig nifying pillar. Religious men living upon pillars. There were several of these in the East, of whom the most celebrated was St. Simeon (459), but only one was known in the West. Sub-deacon. — The lowest of the Holy Orders. It is his office to serve the deacon at the altar, and sing the Epistle. Subject (of a Sacrament). — One who receives a Sacrament of which he is capable. Substance. — A being subsisting in it self (not needing a subject in which to be inherent). Suffragan Bishop. — The bishop of a diocese in relation to the metropoli tan of the province. Suffrage. — Vote or interest at an elec tion; a recommendati or prayer. Sulpicians. — A congregation of priests taking its name from the Seminary of St. Sulpice in Paris, established by M. Olier in 1642. Sunday. — The first day of the week, observed as a day of rest from apos tolic times in place of the Sabbath. Supremacy of the Pope. — Being high est in rank, and having fullest power of authority and government. The English martyrs of the 16th and 17th centuries shed their blood in defence of this. Surplice. — A garment of white linen worn in choir and in giving the Sac raments. Suspension. — A censure, by which a cleric is prohibited from exercising some or all ecclesiastical functions. Synod. — A term from the Greek, equi valent to council. Applied more es pecially to diocesan assemblies of the clergy, presided over by the Bishop. Tabernacle. — The receptacle in which vessels containing the Blessed Sac raments are reserved above the altar. Te Deum Laudamus.— "We praise Thee, O God," the hymn named after St. Ambrose, which is said at Matin3 on Feasts, and on all occasions of thanksgiving. Temperance. — A cardinal virtue, which moderates according to the dictate of right reason the desire and use of the pleasure of taste and touch. Temporal Power of the Pope. — 1. His right to possess and govern the Patrimony of St. Peter and other States of the Church; 2. His rights as Vicar of Christ in relation to other sovereigns and states. Tenebrae. — Matins and Lauds of the three days of Holy Week, sung on the previous evenings. The special features are singing of portions of the Lamentations of Jeremias and the Miserere. Tertiary. — A member of one of the Third Orders. Thaumaturgus. — Workers of wonders. A title applied to various saints dis tinguished for their many miracles, e. g., St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, or St. Philomena, who is called the Thaumaturga of the 19th century. Theatines. — Regular clerks instituted by St. Cajetan in 1528. Theism. — Belief in the existence of God on grounds of natural reason. Theological Virtues. — Faith, hope, and charity, so called, because they re late immediately to God. Theology. — The science of God and things belonging to God, or, more accurately, the sacred teaching of divine things from those which have been revealed. Positive explains and interprets the Scriptures, Fath ers, and Sacred Canons. Dogmatic proves and defends truths of faith, and by scholastic methods draws conclusions from principles, partly of faith, and partly of natural knowl edge. Moral regulates conduct by the principles of revelation, and the laws of the Church. Ascetical and Mystical treat of the progress of the soul, in the spiritual life and prayer. Natural theology, so called, has re ference to the knowledge of God ob tained by purely natural light, and is strictly a branch of philosophy. Third Orders.— First instituted by St. Francis and St. Dominic as a sort of middle term between the world and 734 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. the cloister for men and women who should be bound by rule to dress more soberly and lead more regular and austere lives than ordinary per sons. Each has his own noviciate, profession, and habit. Other Orders of Friars have also third orders. Many Tertiaries live in religious houses in community. Amongst others, St. Catherine of Siena and St. Rose of Lima belonged to the third order of Dominicans, and St. Louis of France and St. Elizabeth of Hungary to that of St. Francis. Three Hours. — A devotion practiced on Good Friday, in remembrance of the three hours our Lord remained upon the Cross. Thurible.— The vessel in which incense is burnt in the ceremonies of the Church. Tiara. — The mitre with triple crown worn by the Supreme Pontiff in sol emn functions. Also called Trireg- no. Tithes. — The tenth part, held from the earliest times to be due to God (see Gjenesis, xiv. 20, Levit. xxvii. 30, Heb. vii. 5, etc.). Their payment is the recognized fulfilment of the na tural obligation incumbent on the faith ful to contribute to the support of their pastors, which is also reckoned among the precepts of the Church. the precepts of the Church. Title to Orders. — The Church requires that her clergy should have the means of suitably maintaining them selves. The ordinary titles are the possession of a benefice or a parti- mony, or poverty (religious profes sion). In missionary countries, can didates may be ordained on the title of a mission, which imposes on the Bishop the responsibility of provid ing for their support. Tonsure. — The crown made by shav ing the upper part of the head, which is a distinctive mark of clerics and religious. Tradition. — Truths handed down from one generation to another. Every Catholic is bound "most steadfastly to admit and embrace Apostolical and Ecclesiastical Traditions." The faith has come down to us by two channels — the Scripture, or written Word of God, and Tradition of the Church, and Traditions in the Church, the latter varying according to their authority and evidence. Translation. — The removal of. relics from one place to another, on the an niversary of which the feast of a Saint is often kept; the postpone ment to a later date of the celebra tion of a feast, when it occurs on the same day as one of higher rank. Transubstantiation. — See Eucharist. Trappists. — A branch of the Cistercian Order of very strict observance, call ed after their first Abbey of La Trap- pe in France. Treasury of the Church. — (Or treasure of merits). — The superabundant merits of Christ and the Saints, con stituting in the hands of the Church a store of which others may avail; this is drawn from by the Church when she grants indulgences. Triangle. — At Tenebrae, a stand in this shape on which are placed fif teen candles, to be by degrees ex tinguished; one, that is, after each psalm, until a mystical darkness (it being generally still day) is produc ed. The triangular arrangement is at least as old as the seventh cen tury. Triduum. — A three days' prayer or fes tal celebration. Trinitarians. — An Order founded in 1 198 by St. John of Matha and St. Felix of Valois for the redemption of Christian captives out of the hands of the infidels. The white scapular very generally worn belongs to this order. Trinity, Holy.— The mystery of Three Persons in One God. Tunicle. — Vestment proper to sub-dea cons (similar to dalmatic), worn also by Bishops under the dalmatic when they pontificate. Umbrella. — A small canopy held over the Blessed Sacrament in procession ; a mark of dignity which certain per- A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. 735 sons or churches are entitled to have carried. United Greeks.— This name includes all who follow the Greek rite and acknowledge the authority of the Pope, i. e., Greek Catholics in Italy, United Melchites in the East, Ruth- enian Catholics and Greco-Rouman ian Catholics. Unity.— A mark of the Church, because all her members agree in one Faith, have all the same Sacrifice and Sac raments, and are all united under one head. Urbi et Orbi.— To the City and the World, said of the solemn blessing given by the Pope in front of the chief Bascilicas on certain feasts. Ursulir-- --V- ¦.-*.--¦ ^ ,~\,„. s. — a teacniug urder of . men founded by St. Angela Merici in 1537- Usury. — Interest or gain on money lent, exacted without any proper or just title. Vain Observances. — Synonymous with superstition, or sin against religion by way of excess, e. g., belief in omens, dreams, etc. Vatican. — The Church and Palace at Rome to the west of the Tiber, sac red as the burial-place of the Princes of the Apostles and many Popes. The great Basilica erected in 1506- 1626 is more commonly known as St. Peter's. The adjoining palace is the chief residence of the Sovereign Pontiff, and the only one occupied by him since the robbery and pro fanation of the Quirinal in 1870. Vatican Council. — The latest General Council, not yet concluded. It was convoked by .Pius IX, and met De cember 8th, 1869. Two Constitu tions were passed and confirmed by Apostolic authority, one "on the Ca tholic faith," the other "on the Church of Christ," in which the Pope's authority, over all Chris tians was defined. The Council was prorogued in October, 1870, on account of the sacrilegious invasion of Rome. Veil. — 1. Humeral, worn by the priest at Benediction, and by the sub-dea con at High Mass. 2. Chalice, which covers the chalice during the beginn ing and end of Mass. 3. Tabernacle, sdk covering ordered by the rubrics for covering the Tabernacle wherein the B. Sacrament is reserved. 4. Nuns wear a white veil during their noviciate and assume a black one at their profession, as a mark of their separation from the world. Venerable.— A title given to a servant of God, the cause of whose canoniza tion has been formally introduced before the S. Congregation of Rites at Rome. Venial Sin.— An offence which does not kill the^soul^yet displeases God, and Sften leads tomoTtal~sin, It is called venial because it is more easily pardoned than mortal sin. Veronica's Veil, St. — The veil with which the holy woman from the crowd wiped our Lord's face on His way to Calvary, on which His sacred features were miraculously imprint ed. It is preserved in St. Peter's, and another fold of it at Jaen, in Andalusia. Vestments. — The special garments worn by the sacred ministers at Mass; those worn by the priest are, alb and girdle, which are of linen; the maniple, stole and chasuble of silk or other rich material, following the colour of the day. A cope is worn at Vespers and other ceremon ies. Viaticum. — Holy Communion given to the dying with a special form. Vicar. — A substitute or deputy, e. g., the Pope is the Vicar of Christ on earth; a bishop has a Vicar General to act in his place. Vicar Apostolic. — A titular bishop (or occasionally a priest) appointed by the Holy See to exercise episcopal jurisdiction in countries where there are no episcopal sees established. Vidi Aquam. — The antiphon sung with the first verse of the Psalm Confite- mini on Sundays during Paschal 736 A CONCISE DICTIONARY FOR CATHOLICS. God time in place of the Asperges and Miserere before High Mass. Vigil.— Watching ; the eve of a festi val. ., Vincent of Paul, Society of bt.— A society of pious laymen founded in Paris, 1833, who meet in conferences and devote their time to visiting the poor and other works of charity. _ . „ Vincentians.— "Priests of the mission founded by St. Vincent of Paul in 1624. ,. Virtue.— The order of love, according to St. Augustine; or, according to St. Thomas, a good quality of the mind by which we live aright, and which no one uses evilly. Vision, Beatific— The sight of iice to face wjifes^i^s_ the understanding, strengthened by a special aid called the light of glory. Visitation. — 1. Visit of B. V. M. to St. Elizabeth, (feast 2nd July) ; saluta- tation was another name in former days for the same. 2. Episcopal; periodical inspection of the diocese for its regulation and good order. Visitation, Order of the. — Founded by St. Francis of Sales and St. Jane Frances de Chantal at Annecy in 1610. Vocal Prayer.— That which is uttered by the voice, not however without attention of the mind. Vocation. — The disposition of Divine Providence whereby persons are call ed to serve God in a particular state of life. Votive Masses. — Those which do not correspond with the Office of the day. Vow. — A promise willingly made to God, to do something pleasing to Him. Vulgate. — The Latin version of the Bible authorized by the Catholic Church. It is founded on the trans lation made by St. Jerome, chiefly from the Hebrew and Chaldee origi nals, or the old Latin text revised by him. Way of the Cross.— See Stations. Whitefriars.— The old name for Carme lites. Whit Sunday.— See Pentecost. Witchcraft.— 'Dealing with the devil, either directly, or through some one else who has a compact with him. Works of Mercy, Corporal— 1. To feed the hungry. 2. To give drink to the thirsty. 3. To clothe the naked. 4 To harbour the harbourless. 5. To visit the sick. 6. To visit the imprisoned. 7. To bury the dead. Works of Mercy, Spiritual.— 1. To con vert the sinner. 2. To instruct the ignorant. 3. To counsel tne doubt- ' wmmSmBmBte^' 'ful- S- i7<^^^otui^^^i tae sorro To bear wrongs patiently. 6. To for give injuries. 7. To pray for the liv ing and the dead. Worship. — Honour or reverence, vary ing according to the object of it ; now generally the name of religious hon our, either the supreme adoration given to God, or the veneration due to the Saints. Wounds, Five. — The wounds in the hands, feet, and side, of Christ, which remained in His Body after the Re surrection. They are the object of a special devotion; and a chaplet in their honour is blessed by the Pas- sionist Fathers. Xaverian Brothers,, — Founded at Bruges for teaching youth, 1836-46. Year, Ecclesiastical. — This begins on the first Sunday of Advent (the Sun day nearest to the Feast of St. An drew) ; the chief movable feasts are regulated by the date on which Eas ter falls. Zelator. — The name of an active mem ber or officer in certain confraterni ties. Zucchetto. — A skull-cap worn by cler ics over the tonsure. YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 08844 2240