VII.

Still unflinching and free through the moonlight he goes,

And each pulse with the hot flush of eagerness glows.

Now a glance at the path where his gallant steed flies,

Now a gleam at the weird, spectral forms that arise

On the dim, rugged slopes, then still onward and on,

Till he nears the abyss, and its gaping jaws yawn

On his sight; but the rider well knows it is there,

And his speed is soon cautiously checked to prepare

For the desperate leap; he must now put to proof

The true mettle beneath, for the slip of a hoof

Or a swerve on the brink will dash both into doom,

Where the sad stars shall watch o’er a cavernous tomb.

Girth and bridle and stirrup are felt, to be sure

That no flaw shall bring peril—and all is secure;

Then with eyes fixed before, and brow bent to the wind,

And one thought of the foe and his comrades behind,

And a low, earnest prayer that all heaven must heed,

He slacks bridle, plies spur, and gives head to his steed.

With a bound it responds, ears set back, nostrils wide,

And the rush of a thunder‐bred storm in its stride!

Now the brink! now the leap! they are over! Hurrah!

Horse and rider are safe, and dash wildly away;

Not a slip, not a flinch, swift and sure as the flight

Of an eagle in mid‐air they sweep through the night,

While the baffled foe glare in bewildered amaze

At the fast‐flying prey speeding far from their gaze;

And the soft stars grow dim in the dawn’s early glow

When MacMahon rides into the camp of Bugeaud.

The Year Of Our Lord 1874.

A general glance at the movements of the past year will scarcely prove

encouraging, even to the most devout believer in the glory and the destiny

of the golden century drawing so rapidly to its close. Our own nation,

which—with steam, electricity, railroads, the newspaper as it stands to‐

day in all its power and pride (_vide_ the current number of the New York

_Herald_), and other great material developments of the age—may consider

itself at will as either the mightiest product or the _enfant gâté_ of the

century, has not too great matter for self‐congratulation. Our national

year, that dawned on disaster, has struggled through a painful life only

to close in gloom, with perhaps a faint though uncertain glimmer afar off

of better times to come. The “Christian” statesmen who have had the

country and its management all to themselves these many years past have

left behind them a bitter legacy. The great scandals—for even scandals in

these days have a greatness of their own—which at length broke up the

ranks of the “Christian” statesmen were sufficiently touched upon last

year, and are only called to mind here as tending in great measure to

explain the year of national distress we have just passed through.

All through the winter months the poverty and misery of the masses in New

York and other of our chief cities were unexampled in our history; nor was

the revival of business during the spring, summer, and fall seasons of

such a nature as to warrant the hope of being able to stave off a similar

calamity in the early months of the coming year. The real cause of the

distress is known to all—the general stagnation of business in 1873,

resulting chiefly from the panic of the previous year, which in turn

resulted from the corruption in high places of the national, State, and

municipal guardians of the public trusts. Public confidence was shattered;

business was at a standstill, the masses consequently idle, while a

general reduction in the rate of wages begot strikes among such as were

not idle. In this connection it may be well to call to mind what was

generally observed at the time: the significant absence of the Irish and

Catholic body from the seditious meetings; yet on that body fell the

burden of the distress. What the disciples of the “Christian” school of

statesmen, who gave cause for the sedition by their corruption and

dishonesty, would be pleased to term their “foreign” faith, “foreign”

education, obedience to the trained body‐guard, the priesthood, of a

“foreign” potentate, the Pope, alone prevented their falling in with the

ranks of sedition. Yet the preaching and practice of the “foreign” faith,

we are constantly assured, is the greatest danger to the republic.

The trials of the severe season, however, brought out into startling

prominence one great fact: the willingness and resources of the public to

encounter an unexpected demand of this kind. New York, for instance, was

overrun with public charities and associations for the relief of the poor,

the unfortunate, the maimed, the halt, the blind, the fatherless children,

helpless women, and so forth. In short, there was scarcely a department of

human misery which had not its corresponding asylum, aided in most

instances by the State, erected often and paid solely by the State, as

well as a variety of others set on foot and kept a‐going by private

philanthropy or charity. Money from public and private resources had been

pouring into these asylums for long years past, without any startling

demand being made upon them in return. Now was the time to prove the

utility of those institutions, of which we were so justly proud. What was

their actual condition? They were for the greater part found practically

with exchequers already exhausted, without anything like adequate results

being shown. An inquiry as to where all the money had gone succeeded in

tracing considerable sums as far as the pockets of the directors, their

wives, families, and friends, generally, after which all traces

mysteriously disappeared. The good old maxim that “charity begins at home”

would seem to have impressed itself as a necessary truth on the minds of

the dispensers of our public charities, and it seems to have been carried

out severely to the letter. One consolation was afforded the public,

however. For some time past its conscience had been offended by the

granting of certain sums—small enough indeed, in comparison with the

necessities of the cases—out of the public funds to those social offences

known as “sectarian” charities—sectarian charities!—and these sums, such

as they were, had within the year been very judiciously and properly

withdrawn, in accordance with the spirit of the Constitution, as expounded

by the men from whose ranks sprang the Christians of the _Crédit Mobilier_

school. It was no small satisfaction to see, in the time of trial, that

the public was justified in withdrawing from such institutions the State

appropriations, on the ground that they were not distributed as in purely

State asylums. How the “sectarian” charities contrasted with the others in

the administration and distribution of their funds may be left to the

records of the year to tell, as unfolded in the columns of the daily

press. Whether a general remodelling of our public institutions, in view

of the flagrant mismanagement exhibited last year, be not desirable, is

left to the consideration of those most concerned in the matter—the public

themselves. As they stand they are an eyesore to honest men, a standing

breach of public confidence, and a gross violation of the public contract,

to say nothing of what they may be in the eye of a heaven that seems to be

getting farther and farther remote from the earth, whereon God once was

pleased to walk with the father of mankind.

Our class of statesmen found an easy solution of what Mr. Disraeli

esteemed the most difficult problem of politics—the feeding of a people by

the government—by an increase of money; and an increase of money is the

simplest thing in the world, when money is only so much paper stamped by

the government with promise to pay at no very precise date. All that the

government had to do in order to ease matters was to draw an unlimited

number of I O U’s on itself—itself being practically bankrupt for the time

being, but relying on the prospect of something eventually “turning up” to

its advantage.

The sad conflicts in Arkansas and Louisiana, the hostility between black

and white, come in the same order. In this case, in Louisiana at least,

the President and his advisers did not show themselves as well as in the

quashing of the bill for inflation of the currency. While the party that

had recourse to an absolute revolution in the State and in the face of the

nation cannot but be condemned, inasmuch as the approaching elections

might have peacefully served their purposes to the same end, much more is

the government to be condemned which in the first instance gave its

sanction and support to a great and standing wrong. Fortunately, but

little blood was spilt; yet one drop in such cases is an indication of the

neighborhood of a deluge. All hope for the dispersion of this impending

deluge rests now chiefly with the party which was returned to power at the

November elections.

If the year leaves us with so much to lament, so many vexed problems to

solve, so many rocks ahead in our national course, and with only a half‐

confidence in the crew who are in charge of the ship of state to guide it

over the unrevealed dangers of unknown seas, what shall be said of Europe,

with its divided nationalities, ambitions, and policies, and only danger

as a unit?

The general arming of the nations that began almost half a century ago,

but was hurried into feverish activity since the Franco‐German war, may

now be said to be completed. Russia within half a dozen years will, if

peace so far favors her, have three millions of soldiers in the field;

France almost as many; Germany, by the enrolment of the Landsturm, has

made itself a nation of soldiers; Austria, Italy, and the rest all follow

in due order. All Europe is at this moment armed to the teeth, solely to

preserve peace. One is irresistibly reminded of an old verse about a

strong man armed keeping his house.

A set of fanatics assembled in London to sympathize with the Prussian

government in its “struggle” with its Catholic subjects—that is to say,

with the wholesale imprisonment of the Catholic bishops and clergy, the

suppression of Catholic religious societies, the fining of Catholic ladies

for presenting addresses of condolence to the imprisoned ecclesiastics.

The meeting of sympathy called forth a very remarkable letter of gratitude

from the German emperor, and occasioned a general jubilee on the part of

the German official press. So far, so good. In the meanwhile a French

bishop, thinking, probably, that it is hard for a man whose sole crime

consists in the fact of his being a Catholic bishop to be imprisoned for

that offence, ventures to deliver a mild opinion on the matter in a

pastoral to his flock. Straightway comes out a Prussian official paper

with an editorial that for solemnity and massiveness might have been

written by the Emperor himself, warning, not the French bishop, but all

France, that if it cannot restrain itself from that shocking habit it has

acquired of using intemperate language against a neighboring and unusually

friendly power, Germany, painful as the task may be to its feelings of

humanity, will positively be compelled to take its own measures for its

own defence. France immediately takes the hint, eats the leek with all

becoming meekness, and a circular couched in the language of the Academy

is despatched to the bishops generally, the plain English of which would

be to hold their tongues on all German matters, unless, of course, they

have something pleasant to say. That may be a very easy task for the

bishops, but there still remain those _bêtes‐noirs_ of offending

governments, the gentlemen of the press; and gentlemen of the press, in

France as everywhere else, are unhappily distinguished not so much,

perhaps, for having opinions of their own, as for giving vent to those

opinions, and setting them down in indelible ink. M. Veuillot, the editor

of _L’Univers_, is just one of these unfortunate beings. M. Veuillot has a

rather strong way of putting things when it pleases him, and M. Veuillot

is hardly the man to take a diplomatic hint. The sad duty becomes

incumbent on his government, therefore, to give M. Veuillot and his paper

a vacation of a couple of months. The vacation was called suspension. It

was duly explained that the German government had had nothing whatever to

do with the matter, though, strange to say, the French government had

never thought of suspending M. Veuillot for hammering away at itself.

Belgium and Italy were threatened in like manner for allowing their

subjects freedom of opinion in so important a matter. Even England was

warned, but the warning had small effect.

It was whispered, though the correspondence never came to light, that at

one period during the past year some sharply‐worded notes passed between

the German government and our own. What the cause of the sharply‐worded

notes may have been remains a diplomatic secret. The only thing

significant about the matter is that the whisper took shape about a month

after the arrest and imprisonment of Archbishop Ledochowski, who had the

immortal honor of being the first of the German bishops to surrender the

liberty of his person for his faith in this strife. That imprisonment

called forth an unanimous condemnation from the American press—not the

sectarian press of any creed—that did it honor, and led one to hope that

such a thing as principle still existed on the earth, and that genuine

homespun American love of liberty was not a meaningless thing.

To the charge of necessary disloyalty to the ecclesiastical laws of

Prussia, Catholics will perforce plead guilty—the same Catholics who

before the passing of those laws never dreamed of or were accused of

disloyalty to the state. Those laws are an insult to the age and to all

time. There is not a line of them that does not betray the steel of the

executioner, red almost with the blood of his victim. The spirit of

Brennus is abroad. The scales of justice show a sadly uneven balance; but

the sword of the barbarian tossed in ends all disputes and argument.

Our modern Brennus has struck his blows so rapidly and truly that the

world still stares at him in dazed wonder. Success has waited on his

footsteps, and men who worship success are not yet sufficiently masters of

themselves to measure that success aright. They are afraid to question the

actions of a man who seems to strike with the inerrancy of fate. Prince

Bismarck had certainly the world on his side; and if the world begins now

to fall away from him and recoil, to recover its senses a little, and to

question the right and wrong of his actions, he has none but himself to

blame.

The signs of the past year tell us that the recoil is beginning to set in.

The elections early in the year went against the government. The Catholics

gained a large majority on their former number even in Prussia itself.

Alsace‐Lorraine returned its members simply to protest against annexation,

while the socialists were strengthened also. The government still holds a

strong majority, it is true; but the falling away from its standard within

four years of its mightiest triumphs was so significant of what was likely

to ensue should the government persevere in its policy, that the first

thing taken into consideration immediately after the elections was the

restricting of the franchise to such voters as it was felt would return a

safe and sure majority for the government. Next to this came measures for

the restriction of the liberty of the press, which by the efforts of the

Catholic party were defeated.

The obvious question will force itself on the mind: Why should a

government so strong and mighty, so beloved of the people, as we are

always assured, tremble at the popular voice and at the criticism of a

newspaper? The answer is easy. The army bill followed. The government

required a peace‐effective voted once for all of four hundred and one

thousand men. That army was to stand, and, once the bill was passed,

parliament was to have no further voice in the matter, whether in regard

to payment of the bills or in regulating the number of men. That was to

pass completely out of its hands.

For once even the “blustering majority” did not save the government. The

terrible danger of the scheme was obvious. The mere presence of so

tremendous a standing army was a standing menace not only to the country

and its liberties, but to its neighbors. It did not breathe the spirit of

peace and rest in the government, and of proper regard for a country

already worn and disturbed by three harassing wars occurring in quick

succession; while the taking out of the hands of the Houses the control

over so large an item of the public funds as was embraced in the bill, was

a blow at their privileges to which not even faith in absolutism could

blind them. A storm was at once raised. The government staked its

existence on the measure. Marshal Moltke rose up in the House, and made a

speech in defence of it that will be remembered. He spoke of the alarm

caused by Germany to its neighbors. He told them that what they had gained

in a few months it would take them fifty years to keep and secure. It was

necessary that, though they might not draw the sword, their hand should be

for ever on the hilt. He assured them that, after all, wars undertaken and

carried through by regular armies were the swiftest and therefore the

cheapest. An important consideration that last. As a final argument the

veteran told them that “a standing army was a necessity of the times, and

he could not but ask the House to devote the figure of four hundred and

one thousand rank‐and‐file as a peace‐footing once for all.” A peace‐

footing! But even the marshal’s seductive eloquence could not move them.

Prince Bismarck fell sick and retired to Varzin. The Emperor’s birthday

came round, and the generals of his empire came to congratulate him. He

assured them that he would dissolve parliament rather than alter the bill.

But his imperial majesty forgot that there were more kingdoms than Prussia

concerned in his measures now, and that the dissolution that once before

served the King of Prussia sufficiently well might, in the disturbed state

of affairs, prove a dangerous experiment to the Emperor of Germany.

Finally, as is known, somewhat better counsels prevailed, and a compromise

was effected, which limited the figure to three hundred and eighty‐five

thousand men for seven years. This was a severe check to the government,

while it was a lesson to the people to distrust rulers who, in the light

of their own schemes, considered the empire as a mere instrument,

forgetting wholly that they were for the empire, not the empire for them.

There are many matters in the internal history of Germany during the past

year that deserve to be dwelt upon particularly and at length, but a few

of which only can be glanced at here. The desire to expand and strengthen

itself abroad is natural, and it is strange that the government organs

should be so anxious to disavow so praiseworthy an object, provided the

motives that urge it are good. It is strange, at the same time, to see how

it continues its repressive emigration laws; how anxious so mighty an

empire is to keep all its children at home, where they may be serviceable

in the Landsturm; and how anxious those children are to get away and come

out to us here, leaving behind them and surrendering forever all the glory

and the promise of the newly‐founded empire. It is strange, also, to note

to what little tricks so great a government can descend in its self‐

imposed conflict with its Catholic subjects; as, for instance, the forged

Papal decree respecting the future election of the Sovereign Pontiff that

found its way into the columns of the Cologne _Gazette_ at so opportune a

moment as the eve of the German elections. Simultaneously with its

appearance we were reminded of the significant declaration of Prince

Bismarck in the German parliament, June 9, 1873: “If the message is

brought to us that a new Pope has been elected, we shall certainly be

entitled to investigate whether he has been duly, properly, and

legitimately elected”; that is to say, whether the veto of the head of the

Holy Roman Empire—who of course is the Emperor William—and of the other

powers possessing a veto whom the German government might influence, has

been exercised. “Only if we are satisfied on these heads will he be able

to claim in Germany the rights belonging to a Roman Pope.”

Out of consideration for Prince Bismarck we pass over those fierce

parliamentary storms where his keen opponents, Von Windthorst and Von

Mallinkrodt, twitted the Chancellor himself with having been actually

guilty of the disloyalty to Prussia and the German soil which he falsely

attributed to the Catholics. The prince, amid thunders of applause,

charged them with malicious lying; but the charge, though momentarily

effective, was not a happy one, as the disclosures of Gen. Della Marmora

subsequently showed. Italy was threatened in consequence of Della

Marmora’s indiscretion, but the threat proved ineffectual. The general

said his say, and the lie was stamped on its author. Prince Bismarck’s

popularity was on the wane, if not in Germany itself, certainly in a very

large circle outside of Germany where he had hitherto been worshipped as

one who with some justice described himself as “the best‐hated man in

Europe.” Then, fortunately for himself, as fortunately as a scene in a

drama, came the _Deus ex machinâ_ in the pistol of Kullmann to relieve him

from his momentary misfortunes. Prince Bismarck was not the man to miss so

fine an opportunity of turning to account the insane attempt of the son of

a madman on his life, and we were flooded with the time‐honored taunts of

means to ends because a man of notoriously bad and violent character, who

happened to have been present at some Catholic meetings, committed the

wicked and utterly unjustifiable act of firing a pistol at the Chancellor.

There are some two hundred million Catholics in the world; there are in

Germany fourteen or fifteen, in Prussia alone eight millions, of the same

creed. Of all these millions one man, of wicked antecedents and insane

descent, is found to commit an act abhorrent to the Catholic conscience

all the world over, and at once the universal conscience of that mighty

multitude is with a benignant generosity centred in the person of this

wretch, who, whether, as many believed, a dupe of the government tools or

a dupe of his own disordered intellect, was equally a wretch. Why not turn

the argument the other way? Why not wonder at the sublime patience of the

people who see the sacred persons of their bishops and priests dragged

from the altar‐steps, stripped of their goods, and buried in fortresses,

for the crime of violating laws that were made to be violated, without

moving a hand to prevent such constant outrages, because the teachings of

those disloyal priests and bishops, of that arch‐foe to German

nationality, the Pope, never cease to forbid armed resistance to the most

oppressive laws that were ever framed? Two or three officials have been

sent alone among a vast multitude of Catholics to drag before their very

eyes the priest whose Mass they have just attended, from the altar of

Christ to a prison—for what possible purpose but to provoke bloodshed and

insurrection? Happily, the people were still by the efforts of the clergy

restrained from putting themselves at the mercy of a government that knows

no mercy; but who shall say how long that patience will endure? And this

is the government whose sole aim is the unity and consolidation of Germany

and the happiness of every section of its people!

As the Von Arnim case is still pending, it is useless to conjecture what

the documents may contain whose possession prompted Prince Bismarck to

arrest and confine in a common prison the man who next after himself stood

the foremost in the German nation. The arrest to the world at large showed

more forcibly than anything that has yet taken place to what lengths the

chief of the Prussian government can go; how easily he can trample under

foot every tradition of civilization and every feeling of humanity to

crush a foe or sweep from his path a possible danger to himself. It is

probable that the documents turn chiefly on his foreign policy, and would

stamp in indelible characters that policy, which it needs no writing to

tell us threatens not only the church, but the peace of Europe, and,

through Europe, of the world, perhaps for centuries to come. Such

disclosures would in the eyes of outraged Germany and Europe necessitate

his deprivation of a power he has so fatally abused.

France struggles on still without a government; that is to say, without a

government of which six weeks of existence could be safely predicated. The

changes in the ministry have been changes of men rather than of measures.

The various parties are still at daggers‐drawn and rather on the increase

than otherwise. The Count of Chambord seems for the present to have

retired from the contest—a wise and patriotic example, which if all could

follow, the country might be allowed breathing time and some fair chance

of arriving at a sound judgment as to what was the exact government it

wanted—a problem which the French nation has seemed incapable of solving

since the first Revolution. The Bonapartists have profited by the

withdrawal of the Count, and displayed an earnestness, boldness, and

activity which have been crowned with some success, but marked by the

disregard of the nation and its submergence in the family name and fame

that seem the chief characteristics of “the Napoleonic idea.” The coming

of age of the son of the late emperor was marked by a theatrical display

and oracular speeches worthy of the Second Empire at its zenith. There

have been the usual “scenes” in the French Assembly. The “intervals of ten

minutes” and “intervals of a quarter of an hour” have been alarmingly

frequent, and after some sittings the air bristled with challenges from

warlike deputies, which afforded excellent material for the illustrated

journals; but, on the whole, few more dangerous weapons than the peaceful

pocket‐handkerchief were drawn, and the pocket‐handkerchief, as all public

orators know, is a vast relief in trying moments. M. Thiers has preferred

the Apennines to the tribune, and has happily spoken more in Italy than in

the Chambers. M. Gambetta, for a man of his calibre, has been singularly

well behaved on the whole, and we have not had so many of those journeys

to the disaffected districts of which at one time he threatened to be so

fond. Sad to say, it is the soldier‐president who has thus far kept the

disorderly parties from flying at each other’s throats by the sheer force

of the army, on which he silently leans all the while. France is

practically in the hands of a military dictator. She is happy in her

dictator—that is all. Marshal MacMahon, on succeeding M. Thiers, promised

to answer for order, and he has kept his word. More than that, he has,

wisely for France, however sad it may be to say so, made the Assembly keep

its word and abide by the _septennate_ which it conferred on him. He has

used his vast power with a singular discretion, a patriotism unexampled

almost in the face of opportunities that would turn the head of many a

greater man, and an honest single‐mindedness that has clearly nothing else

than the good of the whole country in view. The last symbol of a now

ineffectual protection, and indeed for a long time an insincere one, of

the Holy Father, has been withdrawn in the _Orénoque_. It is better so. It

is better, perhaps, since matters have been pushed so far, that the Holy

Father stand absolutely alone, powerless and defenceless, in the eyes of

earth and heaven. The power of God alone can now restore to him what is

his by right. To‐day among all the European governments there is none so

poor as to do him reverence. England has recently withdrawn even its

shadow of a diplomatic representative, which possibly marks the beginning

of the “little more energy in foreign policy and little less in domestic

legislation” that Mr. Disraeli advised while still in opposition.

In all other respects except politics France has every reason to be

congratulated. The earnest turning of the people’s heart to God, the

desertion of whom called down such terrible punishments, seems in no

degree to diminish. The seasons have been propitious, and the vintage of

1874 has been of unexampled excellence and productiveness. The exports of

the year were marvellously increased, and God’s blessings would seem to be

raining down again on this sorely‐tried land and people. All that is

needed is a good and firm government, of which, however, as yet, there

seems no immediate prospect. France is as open as ever to surprises; and

it is absolutely impossible to forecast its political future.

England has experienced a peaceful revolution similar to our own, and one

almost as astonishing in its suddenness, though, as in our case, there

were not wanting indications of the change in parties which has taken

place, as will be found duly noted by those who care to look at THE

CATHOLIC WORLD’S review for 1873. On January 22 Mr. Gladstone issued his

memorable “prolix narrative,” announcing, to the surprise of all men, the

immediate dissolution of Parliament. The sudden and, under the

circumstances, unexampled action of the premier looked remarkably like a

desire to take time by the forelock, and by the suddenness of the attack

shatter and utterly discomfit the slowly‐gathering forces of the

opposition. If such were the real intention, it was miserably

miscalculated and singularly ill‐advised. The country was as much outraged

as shocked, and showed its appreciation of Mr. Gladstone’s skill at a

_coup_ by returning a very handsome Conservative majority, so that Mr.

Disraeli, happy man! found himself, to his own surprise, no less than Mr.

Gladstone’s, within three weeks of the dissolution, at the head of a

strong government and party, with his old rival deep in the shade. The

result of the English elections may prove a lesson to popular leaders for

the future not to presume too much on their popularity, not to jeopardize

a powerful party, and throw an empire into sudden confusion by what looks

too much like a freak that it is hoped may win by “a fluke.”

The most significant lesson of the elections, perhaps, was the

instantaneous triumph of the Home Rule party in Ireland, while as yet it

was to all appearance in its infancy, and almost beneath the rational

notice of the English press. It had only provoked derision and calumny. We

were constantly told that it had no hold on the heart of the people, that

it claimed no men of note, that the nobility and gentry held aloof from

it, and so forth.

The “wild adherents” of the “wild folly” have taught even the London

_Times_ to respect them; and much reason had they to be pledged to their

wild folly, if the words of a man whose opinion is certainly of some value

on the subject have any weight: “Ireland at this moment is governed by

laws of coercion and stringent severity that do not exist in any other

quarter of the globe.” Those words were spoken on the 4th of February,

1874. The speaker was Mr. Disraeli, the present Prime Minister of England.

The laws that provoked the observation of so eminent an English statesman

still prevail in Ireland. The appeal for amnesty for the unfortunate

remnant of the Irish political prisoners has, since those words were

spoken, been refused by Mr. Disraeli. And yet the Irish calendars for this

year, as for many a year past, were the cleanest in the world and the

freest from crime of all kinds. Such is the nation governed at this moment

by laws such as Mr. Disraeli has described. The result of such government

can scarcely recommend its dispensers to the nation governed, and yet

their appeal for control of their own affairs, which the English

Parliament confessedly does not understand, and, if it did understand,

has, as it acknowledges, too much business on its hands properly to attend

to, is a wild folly!

The chief piece of English legislation during the year has been what was

embodied in “the bill to put down ritualism”—that is to say, the

regulation of divine worship as understood in the church established by

act of Parliament. Ritualism, or the “Romanizing tendency,” as it is

strangely termed, in the Anglican Church, has been put down, as far as an

act of Parliament can put it down. Our ritualists on this side were put

down also, for their bishops followed that authority in their church known

as the British Parliament, composed respectively of Anglicans, Dissenters,

Jews, Quakers, and other sects, with, worst of all, a strong contingent of

Roman Catholics. That hydra‐head of the Anglican Church regulated for it

to a nicety, pronounced upon its devotions, practices, sacraments,

vestments, ornaments, postures of the body, bendings of the knee,

elevations of the hands, prostrations, crossings, and so forth, as calmly

and in as business‐like a fashion as though it were sitting on an income

tax; and the church that we are so solemnly assured by learned men like

Bishop Coxe, if it dates not exactly from the Ist, certainly dates from

somewhere in the neighborhood of the IVth, century, with a subsequent

lamentable gap up to the XVIth, when the Apostle Henry and others of that

ilk came to renovate and restore it to its pristine purity, bowed meekly

to the infallible decision of the business‐like assembly of Jews,

infidels, Quakers, Dissenters, Anglicans, and Roman Catholics. What would

S. Peter and S. Paul think of it all?

Something far more serious than this, and of far deeper import to the

nation, was the long and persistent strike of the agricultural laborers,

which was carried on on a most extensive scale, and with a union that was

not thought to exist in the successor of the Saxon hind. Once the ball of

disaffection is set rolling, it is very hard to say where it will stop. It

is clear that the unions have at last permeated the entire body of the

English laboring‐classes. The trades‐unions are too often cousins‐german

to the secret societies. The mass of the English agricultural classes, in

common with the vast majority of the English laboring‐classes and

artisans, have no religion at all. The disaffection with the present order

of things in England, though less pronounced than in most modern European

nations, has been long gathering, is rapidly spreading, and is beyond all

doubt of a nature to excite considerable alarm. Loss of religion, it is

needless to say, leaves the minds and hearts of men open to all evil, and

it would be beyond stupidity to shut one’s eyes to the very plain fact

that the spirit of evil and of general disaffection is particularly active

all the world over just at present. Banish religion, banish the guiding

hand of God from your objective laws and from the heart and sight of your

people, and the people will look on the powers that be, of whatsoever

nature, as oppressors, on the rich as despoilers of the poor, on the

employers as their tyrants.

A most important movement, and one that we welcome with all our hearts, is

the bold step taken at last by the English hierarchy in founding a

Catholic university in England. The want has long been felt in that

country of a centre of Catholic intellect, culture, and thought, to vie

with those seats of learning which the piety of their Catholic forefathers

had left as priceless heirlooms to their Catholic children, but which,

with all holy places and all holy things, had by the national apostasy

become perverted from the purpose of their pious founders, and fallen by a

too easy lapse from centres of false faith to centres of no faith at all.

In England and Ireland, as with us, the means of providing higher

education for students desirous of attaining it have been hitherto

necessarily and lamentably deficient. The Catholic University in Ireland

and this later one in England give promise that, with proper encouragement

from the wealthy and intelligent laity, this long‐felt want will be at

length adequately supplied. These are days when the Catholic laity, to

whom now all positions, or at least very important ones, are fairly open,

are in duty bound to take their stand as becomes loyal children of a

mother universally assailed. The laity can penetrate where the clergy have

no voice. They are, as S. Peter called them, and as they have so signally

proved themselves in Germany, “a kingly priesthood.” But to take a stand

similar to that taken by the noble German phalanx, that “thundering

legion” in the service of the pagan empire, they must be equal to their

adversaries in culture, refinement, and address, all which come more by

education than from nature. Many a great mind has retired within a narrow

circle for which it was certainly not born, and its efforts rendered half

nugatory by lack of that early association and training which a great

university, an intellectual focus of the brightest minds in the galaxy of

letters, is intended to and does supply. We look, then, with as much hope

as expectancy to this step on the part of the English hierarchy, who have

saved their children from the allurements of a Satanic culture by

supplying them with men of recognized intellectual standing and

acknowledged faith in Christ and in his church. Our only hope is that in

our own country we soon may rival them.

Some mention will probably be looked for here of the controversy, as it is

called, which has sprung up in consequence of a recent pamphlet written by

Mr. Gladstone; but there is little need of such mention, inasmuch as Mr.

Gladstone seems to have been sufficiently answered by the very men whom

his pamphlet was intended chiefly to affect—the Protestants of England.

Whether so intended or not, it was beyond all doubt an attempt altogether

unworthy the high character of the distinguished author to rouse the

rancor of the English Protestants against their Catholic fellow‐subjects.

Could we altogether rid ourselves of the respect with which Mr. Gladstone,

take him all in all, has hitherto inspired us, as a man whose heart was as

large and loyal as his intellect, and that intellect inspired with

reverence for God and holy things, his latest exploit could only be

described as a vulgar “No Popery” appeal to the worst classes and most

degraded passions of English society, delivered in bad taste and worse

faith, and, to crown the list of offences, as a political mistake, which

has already failed in its object of establishing him, as Earl Russell once

was, and as men of the Newdegate and Whalley type would be, as the English

“No Popery” champion and leader, while it effectually alienates from him

once for all a large and influential body of supporters on whom he has

often counted, and on whom there was no reason to believe that a genuine

change of front on his part might not have led him to count again. That

his pamphlet is all this is true; that Mr. Gladstone intended it to be all

this there is too much reason to believe, but of that he himself alone can

tell. If the leader of the English Liberal party is pleased to be patted

on the back by the men in Germany who patted on the back the orators of

Exeter Hall who met to sympathize with the German persecution of Germans

whose only crime was their Catholic faith, and whose only stain was and is

their readiness to sacrifice life, lands, and liberty in defence of that

faith, he is welcome to his ill‐earned applause and doubtful honor.

The space already given to the important topics touched upon leaves little

room for comment on others. And indeed the story, as far as the Catholic

Church and general politics are concerned, is much the same all the world

over. Austria has followed in the wake of Prussia, though its

ecclesiastical laws do not seem to have been carried out with the brutal

thoroughness of its neighbor. Italy continues in its downward course. The

state of its finances is appalling, and yet it plies whip and spur with

reckless speed into chaos. Brigandage, in the south chiefly, grows worse

and worse. Civil marriage there, as in Prussia, is the law established. A

new phase of the secret societies crops out from time to time. It has

tried the scheme of popular election of the _curés_ as did Switzerland and

Germany, with a like result in all cases—an absurd _fiasco_. It has made

great strides in the way of popular education, with the result pictured by

the special correspondent of the London _Times_: “The property that is

taken from some of the Capuchin convents in Tuscany, and sold at auction,

is bought back at the auction by ‘pious benefactors,’ who recall the

scattered fraternity to their deserted and desecrated homes, and restore

monachism on conditions more favorable than those on which it stood before

its suppression. The central government and the municipalities in Italy

strain every nerve to supply the people with a free and good education,

but their schools have to strive hard to withstand the competition which

is raised against them by the Scolopii in Florence, the Barnabites in

Milan, and the Ignorantins in Turin.... There are now Waldensian,

Methodist, and other evangelical churches and schools in Rome, as in other

Italian cities, but their success is not very encouraging, even in the

opinion of their candid promoters.” And we may add, for the benefit of the

ardent but foolish supporters of the Van Meter and such like schemes, a

further extract from the same correspondent: “Attempts to allow the people

to elect their parish priests without the permission of, and even in

direct opposition to, the bishop of the diocese have been made in some

Mantuan rural districts and elsewhere, but hitherto with no extensive or

decisive results; and the Gavazzi, Passaglia, Andrea, and others, who

would have ventured on a reforming movement within the church itself, have

met with no support whatever, either on the part of the government

authorities or of public opinion.”

The celebration of the twenty‐eighth anniversary of the elevation of our

Holy Father, Pope Pius IX., to the chair of Peter, was general throughout

Christendom, but desecrated in Rome by the infamous action of the usurping

government in clearing the streets of the crowds who were peacefully

returning from the _Te Deum_ in S. Peter’s. Violent arrests were made on

no pretext whatever, some of the persons arrested being English and

American Protestant ladies. On the evening following, and with the

connivance of the present Roman authorities, a hideous crowd assembled at

midnight to howl cries of hate and blasphemy under the windows of the

Sovereign Pontiff. Not religion alone, but common humanity, seems to have

been banished from Rome by the entrance of Victor Emanuel. Our constant

prayer should be that the great Pontiff, whose conspicuous virtues, and

sufferings so patiently borne for Christ’s sake, may be preserved to his

children long to witness with his own eyes the end of the blasphemy,

violence, and imposture which now beset him on all sides.

Switzerland has almost out Prussiaed Prussia in its assault on the

Catholic Church. So much for the freedom of the typical republic! It has

changed its constitution into despotism, driving away the Catholic voters

from the polls by intimidation and violence. Even Loyson has felt himself

compelled to cry out against its excesses, and resigned his curacy at

Geneva. The constitution which it has now adopted, it rejected only two

years since. It completely subjects religion to the state, and renders it

impossible for a Catholic priest to remain in his native country and

practise the duties of his office. Civil marriage here again is the order

of the day. Marriages, it used to be said, were made in heaven. Their

birthplace has been transferred to the office and celestial presence of

his eminence the town‐clerk.

In Spain the struggle has assumed a fiercer and more determined character

than ever. Castelar, who is already and very deservedly forgotten, was

president at the opening of the year. His success in that _rôle_ was what

might have been expected, and what has fully justified the opinion held of

him throughout in these pages. He was defeated on reading his message to

the Cortes in January—a message of despair. General Pavia cleared the

Cortes and took possession with his troops. The movement was so well

planned that no rising took place. Indeed, it was hard to say for what or

for whom a rising should have been made. There was no government; almost

all the prominent men had been tried in turn and failed, and the last was

the least capable of all. Serrano came to the front again; the whole

movement was probably his. Cartagena, which had so long held out against a

bombardment by sea and land, was taken soon after, and there remained no

foe in the field but Don Carlos, who had profited by the diversion at

Cartagena. Bilbao was seriously threatened by the Carlist forces, and

would have proved, if taken, an important prize to them. Serrano hastened

to its relief with all the available forces of the country, and, aided by

Marshal Concha, succeeded in raising the siege without inflicting any

material loss on the enemy. Marshal Concha he left to prosecute the

campaign, and for the first time since their last rising the Carlists

found themselves sore beset. A bullet at Estella, however, ended the

checkered career of the most dangerous opponent they had yet encountered,

and victory after victory of more or less importance has, with an

occasional reverse, continued to crown their arms. More than once have we

been assured of their annihilation, only to see them appear with renewed

strength, and add another victory to their crown. Through the influence of

Germany the European powers with the exception of Russia, have recognized

a republic which does not exist, and does not promise to exist, in Spain.

At one time Prussia threatened to interfere immediately, and may at any

time renew the attempt. The reason for this interference is obvious. A

Prussianized Spain would serve as a double‐barrelled gun, covering at once

Rome and France. Whereas the success of Don Carlos is the success of a

Catholic sovereign and a Bourbon; consequently a friend to France,

whatever may be the government in that country. Russia’s refusal to join

in its schemes was, however, a little too significant to ignore, and love,

which was never at fever‐point between what are now the rival powers in

Europe, was not increased by this rebuff. In the meanwhile Spain is

suffering terribly in blood, in commerce, in everything that makes the

life of a nation, by this prolonged struggle, which it was our hope to see

concluded ere this by the victory of the only man who can promise the

Spaniards a safe and vigorous government, and who has proved himself

possessed of all the qualities of king, general, and, as far as we are

able to judge, truly Christian leader—Don Carlos.

In Mexico, Brazil, Venezuela, and other of the South American states, the

struggle between church and state in Europe has been repeated, even to the

seizure of property, the expulsion of priests and nuns, the imprisonment

of bishops and priests. One little republic alone, that of Equador, has

set a noble example to the world of loyalty to the Catholic faith and to

the Apostolic See by devoting a large sum out of the public funds to the

aid of the Holy Father. The secret societies have seemingly as strong a

hold in South America as in Italy, and the boldness with which they act is

manifested by the severity of the sentences passed on the Bishops of

Olinda and Para, the Archbishops of Caracas and Venezuela, and the aged

Bishop of Merida. Those are still Catholic states, and it is to be hoped

that all true Catholics there will exert themselves and use the lawful

power that is in their hands to put a stop to the scenes of outrage and

brutal violence that are constantly on the increase.

It is time that civilized governments, or those that claim the title,

should unite to put a stop to the horrible periodical massacres of

Christians in China, of which the details reach us from time to time,

particularly during the past year. It is a shame upon all nations that

peaceful women should be outraged and brutally cut to pieces, as are the

Catholic nuns in that country. The European powers and our own could, if

they chose, put a stop to this infamous practice—for practice it is. And

our own government might well take the initiative in the matter. We

welcome the Chinese into this country. They come in swarms; they find home

and labor, and reward for their labor. They live among us, and leave us,

unmolested to the last. Their very idolatry is allowed; and yet at almost

stated intervals their countrymen rise up and horribly mutilate and murder

our dearest and best.

Of actual wars during the year there have been happily few. The defeat of

the Ashantees, and the burning of their capital city by the British

forces, adds, it is to be presumed, a new lustre to the glories of

England. The Dutch retaliated for their defeat of the year previous in

Acheen by in turn defeating the Achinese. Russia is securing its footsteps

as it advances into Asia. An invasion of Formosa by the Japanese, who are

becoming more and more amenable to European customs, ended strangely by a

payment of indemnity on the part of China and the departure safe home of

the Japanese. The usual chronic revolutions might be recorded of one or

more of the South American states, but beyond this there is nothing very

sanguinary to record.

An event that will long be memorable, and which excited very general

interest outside, was the departure for the first time of a body of

pilgrims from this country to Lourdes and Rome, under the guidance of the

Rt. Rev. Bishop of Fort Wayne and the Rev. P. F. Dealy, S. J. They were

received with special marks of affection by the Holy Father, who declared

that in this country he was more Pope than in any other.

An event that excited extraordinary commotion and a general display of a

strange splenetic hate on the part of the English press was the quiet

conversion to the Catholic faith of the Marquis of Ripon, who, in addition

to his hereditary title and established character as an English statesman,

added that of Grand Master of the Freemasons in England. Among other

conversions was that of the Queen Dowager of Bavaria.

We are not in the position to compare the statistics of the past year’s

capital crimes or suicides with those of former years; but whether they be

greater or less, they are alarmingly great. Suicide and murder were

startlingly frequent during the year; and as far as passing glances at the

reports in the newspapers would justify an opinion, they seem in most

cases to have resulted from wicked and immoral lives. For a time masked

burglary threatened to become the fashionable crime of the year. A

speedier sentence and a more honest dispensing of the law than often

prevails would more materially, perhaps, than any other means tend to

diminish the long annual list of offences against life and property.

Education, to be sure, is a great thing, and there will be an opportunity

in the coming year of seeing how the new law of compulsory education for

all children will work in the State of New York. The question is too large

a one to enter into here. As has been shown over and over again,

compulsory education with us means practically a compulsory Protestant

education; for Protestantism, if not actually taught, is done so at least

negatively, for many of the class‐books teem with Protestantism from cover

to cover. That, however, is a matter within the power of remedy to a great

extent. The compulsory education of Prussia that is so much extolled

allowed the Catholic priest and the Protestant minister to teach their

respective religions at stated hours, in opposite corners of the schools,

even though they had Sunday‐schools as well. But our only safeguard is our

own schools for our own children, and it is gratifying to note the zeal

with which both clergy and laity have combined during the past year to

establish Catholic schools all over the country. That is the first thing

to be done. Let us first have our own schools, and then we may fairly see

about the management of our own moneys.

Only a few of the distinguished dead who have gone out with the year can

be mentioned. The church in the United States has lost five venerable

servants and pioneers of faith, in Bishops Melcher of Green Bay, O’Gorman,

of Omaha, Whelan of Wheeling, McFarland of Hartford, and Bacon of

Portland. The College of Cardinals has lost three of its members: Cardinal

Barnabo, the great Prefect of the Propaganda, to whom the church in this

country is greatly indebted; Cardinals Falcinelli and Tarquini. The

Christian Brothers lost their venerable superior, Brother Philippe, whose

funeral was attended by the chief notabilities of Paris, together with a

vast crowd of people of all ranks and conditions in life, so much so that

as the white flag was the suspicious color just then, and as that flag has

the misfortune under its present holder of being connected with religion,

the keen‐scented gentry of the press discovered in this last tribute to a

man who had spent his life in doing good a Chambordist demonstration. The

death of Mgr. de Merode was a great loss to the Holy Father, as well as to

a multitude of friends. An interesting comparison might be made between

the purposes to which he devoted his vast wealth and those of a man still

more wealthy who died within the year—the Baron Mayer de Rothschild. His

admiring chronicler in the leading English journal informs us that the

baron, who, in addition to his other admirable qualities, was a silent

member in the English Parliament, spared no expense to erect in his own

palace a museum “adorned with all that is beautiful.” “He applied himself

systematically to breeding race‐horses,” in compensation for which

exceptional virtue the same glowing chronicler assures us that “when he

won, a year ago, the Dudley, the Oaks, and the St. Leger, all the world

felt that a piece of good and useful work had been performed.” Well, well!

Did not our own Sumner leave life this very year amid general regret,

sighing only that his book was not completed? Had that been finished, he

would not have cared. And, thinking thus, went out one who is a part of

our history, and whose name, though it did not fulfil all its earlier

promise, was great among us. Ex‐President Fillmore died almost unnoticed.

Certain news of the death of Dr. Livingstone in 1873 arrived during the

year. Art has lost Kaulbach, who devoted his undoubted genius to attacking

the church, and Foley. One of the men of a century died in Guizot.

Merivale and Michelet are lost to history, Shirley Brooks to light

literature. Strauss, the infidel, perhaps, has learnt at last the truth of

an awkward verse in S. James. Not only Germany, but the Catholic cause all

the world over, has sustained a sad and in a sense irreparable loss in the

great and chivalrous leader of the Catholic centre in the German

parliament, Herr von Mallinkrodt, whom divine Providence was pleased to

call away in the height of a career of great usefulness to the church and

to society. He was a foe whom Prince Bismarck dreaded and had reason to

dread—one of those men whom no weak point escapes, no side issue can

divert, no opponent cow. Adam Black and the monstrosity known as the

Siamese Twins died during the year.

And now the glance at the outline of the general year and some of its

chief incidents is completed. With every succeeding year we look forward

with more anxiety than confidence into the future. There are terrible

forces, long concealed, nearer the social surface than they ever were

before, and they come up now, as a consequence probably, just when the

general bond that ought to hold the human family together is at the

loosest; when men are ready to burst all bounds and call everything in

question; and when the lights of the age can only tell man that he is

nothing more than a fortuitous cohesion of irresponsible atoms, begotten

of void only to fall back into it. The only bond that can bind the human

family together is “the one law, one faith, one baptism,” preached

nineteen centuries ago in Judæa by the lips of the Son of God. And it is

just that faith that is now being as fiercely assailed as it ever has been

within the Christian era. There is not merely an arming of material forces

going on silently. There is a clash of faith, of intellect, of moral

principles, of all that guides and constitutes the inner and the greater

life of man; and of the double collision, the material and the spiritual,

that seems to hang over us and make heavy with foreboding the air of all

the world. Though supernatural faith may not doubt as to the issue, human

weakness cannot but tremble and grow faint at the prospect.

New Publications.

ORIENTAL AND LINGUISTIC STUDIES. Second Series. By W. D. Whitney,

Professor of Sanscrit and Comparative Philology in Yale College.

New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co. 1874.

Yale College well deserves the name of university in common with its great

rival, Harvard. The advance it has made within the last twenty‐five years

is something really remarkable, and, to the great honor of its governing

body, this advance has kept pace in linguistic studies with the

improvement in the departments of mathematics and physics. One of the

functions of a university is the production of really learned and solid

books for the instruction of readers generally, as well as students in

particular branches. The volume before us is a specimen of this class.

Whatever we may think of some of Prof. Whitney’s theories and opinions, we

must acknowledge the evidence of study, labor, and great care to present

the results of learning and thought on important and interesting subjects,

which his works exhibit.

The contents of the present volume are somewhat varied and miscellaneous.

One of the topics treated of, which deserves special attention, is the

spelling and pronunciation of the English language. The variations of

spelling are not so numerous and important as are those of pronunciation,

but in this latter respect our language is certainly in a state which is

most unsatisfactory and vexatious, and becoming every day worse. We are

not an advocate of any revolutionary project in regard to phonetic

spelling, but we do most earnestly desire a fixed and uniform standard,

and still more a rule of uniformity in pronunciation. Mr. Whitney’s

researches into this subject are extremely curious, valuable, and often

amusing, and he shows a very peculiar and ingenious facility of describing

and expressing the various oddities and extravagances of individual or

provincial usage. The question at once suggests itself whether there are

any practicable means of fixing a standard of spelling and pronunciation.

If it were question of a language spoken by one nation only, we can see

very easily that an academy might be established which should settle all

these matters by authority. An Englishman might assert the right of

England to determine all usages in respect to the English language, and

the corresponding obligation of all English‐speaking peoples to conform to

an authoritative standard furnished by an academy in England. Americans

might not be satisfied with this. The further question arises, therefore,

whether it be possible that English and American scholars should do

something concurrently in this direction.

Mr. Whitney has given in some other papers, with a condensed but clear

exposition, historical and philosophical views of India and China which

will probably have more interest to the great body of readers than any

other portions of his volume. In respect to one very important aspect of

these topics, the missionary aspect, he shows impartiality and manifest

effort to conform his statements and judgments to historical facts and a

real rather than a fanciful standard. There is no attempt to claim for

Protestant missions greater success than they have had, and a very fair

tribute of praise is given to the celebrated Catholic missionaries who

have labored in that arduous field. Yet, like other Protestants, Mr.

Whitney shows himself not well informed about the practical results at

which Catholic missionaries aim, and which, in so far as that is possible,

they accomplish, in making their converts solidly pious and virtuous

Christians.

Among the other topics treated of in this volume, the most important are

Müller’s _Chips from a German Workshop_, Cox’s _Aryan Mythology_, and the

“Lunar Zodiac of India, Arabia, and China.” We have not examined these and

previous essays of the learned author, in which the formation of languages

and mythologies is treated of, with sufficient attention to be enabled to

understand clearly his fundamental theory of the origin and history of

religion. We therefore abstain from any attempt at a critical judgment;

and, in regard to Mr. Whitney’s own special department of _Sanscrit_, very

few critics can safely venture on that ground. Thorough and solid studies

in these recondite branches of knowledge must lead to results advantageous

to religion as well as to merely human science. We rejoice, therefore, in

the noble and in many respects successful efforts of Mr. Whitney and his

associates to promote the cause of high education in this country. We

trust that their example may be emulated by those who have the principal

charge of the higher education of our Catholic youth. The English bishops

have already inaugurated the University College of Kensington with a

faculty worthy of Oxford or Cambridge. When will the first steps be taken

for a similar institution among ourselves?

THE KING’S HIGHWAY; OR, THE CATHOLIC CHURCH THE WAY OF SALVATION,

AS REVEALED IN THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. By the Rev. Augustine F.

Hewit, of the Congregation of S. Paul. New York: The Catholic

Publication Society. 1874.

This work of Rev. Father Hewit supplies a want we have often felt in

instructing converts to the church. There are many sincere persons looking

for light, and dissatisfied with the religious sect in which they were

born, who have no idea of the church, nor the office it holds in the plan

of redemption. The denomination to which they belong has never been of any

use to them, and has, in fact, disclaimed all power to guide or help them.

It requires often some time to overcome their prejudice against any kind

of instrumentality between their souls and God. They believe in the Sacred

Scriptures, which they have never deeply studied, but which they hold to

be the oracles of divine truth. In their opposition to the Catholic faith

they have been fighting against the only thing which can fill up the

desire of their hearts, and bring into blessed harmony all they know of

God and all they seek from his hands. To such this book will be as a

messenger from heaven. It will remove their doubts, and from the inspired

writings will prove to them the error of Protestant theories, and show how

Christ our Redeemer is only to be found in his church, “which is his

body,” which “he filleth all in all.” Written in the clear, graceful, and

forcible style which distinguishes all the works of the author, it brings

forth an argument which no honest mind can resist. It points out “the

King’s highway,” so plainly that “the wayfaring man, though a fool, cannot

fail to find it.” The first chapters are devoted to a refutation of the

false theories of Calvinism and Lutheranism. By the plain language of the

Bible they are shown to be opposed to the divine Word, contradictory of

each other, and hostile to the very nature and attributes of God. The true

doctrine of redemption is then set forth from the Scriptures, with the

office of faith and the prerequisites of justification. The whole system

of salvation, as the mercy of Jesus Christ has revealed it, arises in its

beauty and fulness before the eyes of the sincere, and the Catholic Church

opens its door to the weary and heavy‐laden, that they may enter in to

praise God and find rest to their souls. We have nowhere seen a more clear

and effective demonstration of our divine religion from the Scriptures. We

have only to pray that it may have a large circulation among the honest

inquirers after truth in this day of darkness and infidelity. Protestants

of the old class profess a great reverence for the Bible, which is to them

a kind of rule of faith. The diligent reading of this work will convince

them that they cannot follow the Scriptures and remain where they are;

that Catholics alone can understand and obey the written Word of God.

Neither can they abide in the creed of their fathers amid the errors and

disorganizing influences of this day. They must go forward and keep the

truth they have already received by embracing all to which it leads, or

lose what they have in the misery of doubt and unbelief. The day of grace

for dogmatic Protestants is well‐nigh gone.

We have only to add the earnest wish that Catholics generally would read

this book and profit by the instruction it contains. There are very many

among us who might lead others to the truth, if they were better informed

as to the grounds of their faith, and the points of controversy which

separate the conflicting Christian sects from the church. Idleness and

ignorance will be a fearful burden to bear before the Judge of all. The

talent hidden in the ground will be demanded with interest, and the

unprofitable servant will have to answer for light unimproved and grace

unfruitful. The souls we could have saved will rise up against us in the

day of our greatest need. “Unto whomsoever much is given, of him much

shall be required.”