These Gheelois have faith in their providential mission, faith in

the ancient miracles which have predestined their country to the

cure of insanity, faith in their own power. Esquirol one day

expressed to a peasant of this place his apprehensions about

paroxysms of mania. The countryman laughed at his fears, and

said: "You do not understand these folks; I am not strong, and

yet the most furious of them is nothing for me." This is the way

they all talk. The sentiment of an unlimited and privileged power

is insinuated from childhood into the soul of the Gheelois by

example and tradition. This power grows with his muscular force

and experience; it imposes upon the insane, who feels himself

feeble and disarmed before a master, and usually submits without

resistance. Any desired help can be had, moreover, at a moment's

warning, from the neighbors. The exigencies of family life with

the insane invite the inhabitants of Gheel to respect their

inoffensive fantasies, and to study in all its aspects the

difficult art of directing their erring wills, of redressing

their false ideas when they threaten mischief, of taking

advantage of a lingering sentiment of sociality or a last gleam

of reason, to secure themselves against violence and surprises.

On the other hand, as they can have recourse to material

constraint only in accidental cases, as they can reckon but

exceptionally on the intelligent obedience of patients, it is

especially by the evolution of sympathies, those quick rays of

the soul which usually survive the intellect, and are often

extinguished only with life, that the Gheelois have understood

the tactics of social government. That women should excel in this

diplomacy is not surprising. On them devolves the most delicate

and important part of a system based on managing by gentleness

the most whimsical characters. Simple, ignorant, laborious,

without the vanities of fashionable life, but kind by nature,

religious by education, and guided by her heart, the woman of

Gheel accomplishes marvels of devotion and sagacity. By her

cares, which no disgust repels, she is the visible Providence of

the poor madman. By her ingenious expedients, she averts stormy

crises, and never shows herself afraid. Without title or costume,

she is a true sister of charity. To maintain her power over her

fantastic subjects, she studies their intimate thoughts, observes

their least gestures, divines their secret projects, and learns

to read souls the most dissembling. To subdue the most savage,

the young girl does not shrink from the manoeuvres of an innocent

coquetry. At other times, it is the imperious magnetism of the

look, of the attitude, of the voice, that lays its spell upon the

spirit and dissipates fury. It is not rare to see maniacs of

herculean frame obeying little women bowed and emaciated by age,

and whose only arms are a few words spoken with authority. The

husbands and fathers are not backward in these arts of

management. Besides their innate turn for it, the peace of their

household and their interests lead them to it. All idleness is a

loss, and the boarder losing his time and making others lose

theirs, if he remained a non-value, would soon become a burden.

Compulsion to labor is out of the question. It is necessary to

humor the lunatic, to entice him by rendering the work

attractive. Is he restive?

{829}

They are patient. Is he awkward? They make fun of his blunders

without humiliating him; he will do better next time. As soon as

he succeeds a little, he is flattered and encouraged; he soon

comes to like the job. Gradually he is tamed and trained. Behold

him, then, an active and a useful member of the family, proud of

himself, a friend and child of the house, rising at the same hour

as his companions and sharing their toils. Fallen as he may be

from man's estate, does he not still afford greater capacities of

sociability than those of wild beasts? To succeed in the

education of the insane, the inhabitants of Gheel have displayed

a persevering and intelligent energy, the power of which is

enhanced by the natural sympathy of man for man. Much charity in

the heart, gentleness upon the lips, friendly actions,

_reasoning_ even, at an opportune moment, exert a sovereign

empire over characters whose susceptibility is exalted by

disease. Patience is the first of virtues necessary in this

community, and it has always risen to the height of the

aberrations it has had to meet. No eccentricity provokes either

surprise or anger. For twenty years Daniel Peter has been

boarding with a Gheelois. This maniac covers the walls of his

chamber with the most original caricatures; never does he mingle

with the members of the family; he likes only one of the

children, Joseph; but he loves him to the point of abdicating his

own personality. He nicknames all around him, persons and beasts,

even the matron, whom he calls the "tambour major." When she asks

him through the door whether he wishes to eat, he replies: Joseph

would like it; or else, Joseph will have none. The only way of

getting anything from him is to compare him with some tall

object, calling him a tree, a mast, a tower, etc. On Sunday only

he will eat no meat, and takes flight at sight of a woman or of a

horse. Notwithstanding all these whims, he is beloved by all the

family, and remains inoffensive, because he is well treated. He

returns to his lodgings regularly every evening after having

wandered in the woods and over the heath. From this exchange of

kind offices, which is the general tone, the most solid

attachments spring. "You must have seen the afflicted family of

_der Phleger_ around the sick-bed of _die Phlegling_,

you must have witnessed the touching scenes when the latter goes

forth cured from the establishment, in order to get a clear idea

of the means which constitute the basis of the treatment and the

proper employment of which assure the success of the colony.

These testimonies of gratitude and of mutual affection, these

tears of happiness and of regret, these promises to see each

other again, are the sincerest homage that can be rendered to the

solicitude of the guardians." [Footnote 229]

[Footnote 229: _Bulckeus_. Report of 1856, pp. 34, 33.]

[Transcriber's note: This line is blurred.]

Nothing better proves how deeply these feelings have penetrated,

not merely into individual souls, but into the blood and race,

than the conduct of the children of Gheel toward the insane.

Elsewhere generally, and even at Horenthals, in the neighborhood,

we have seen the unfortunate persecuted and derided. Childhood,

especially, is without pity for them. Nothing like this at Gheel.

There the _Zott_ is, even for children, an amusing

companion, without wickedness, often a comrade of their games,

sometimes a protector. It seems that between beings who have not

yet quite attained their reason, and those who have lost it, some

alliance is formed. Dr. Parigot relates his first visit as

inspector to a farm near Gheel.

{830}

"It was a cold, snowy spell in the winter. The family were

pressing round the hearth beneath the vast chimney-place, and the

best seat was occupied by a lunatic. The unexpected appearance of

a stranger on the threshold of this poor house, troubled the

quiet inhabitants a little. The frightened children took refuge,

with little cries, between the legs of the maniac. This poor

man's affection for the children was vividly depicted in his

countenance, as he protected them with a gesture. This affection

was, perhaps, the only tie that attached him to society, but this

tie of love protected himself, by deserving the regard of his

hosts." We have been gently touched by seeing in the streets of

Gheel an old man bearing two children in his arms, while two

others followed his steps. The intellectual focus was extinct, or

projected but a feeble and vacillating light, but the affectional

focus still revealed by its glow the moral grandeur of man even

in his saddest miseries.

A woman of Gheel was in company with a maniac, when suddenly he

was seized with a paroxysm of excitement. The danger was great,

her presence of mind was still greater. She took the young child

that she was bearing in her arms, and whom the madman loved,

placed it in his arms, and availed herself of this diversion to

slip out by the door; then, concealed behind the window, she

followed with eye and heart the movements of the lunatic.

Marvellous calculation! the child had at once and completely

calmed the madman, who, having caressed him and set him upon the

floor, was now playing with him. A few minutes afterward, the

mother could reenter, the crisis was passed. No one at Gheel

blamed this conduct in the mother, who had estimated justly the

fascination of infancy.

When the equality of age invites to friendship, this becomes very

lively between the children of the house and the insane. There is

one family which boards a young lunatic, who is also deaf and

dumb. She has become a cherished sister for the daughters of her

host. When they are at work together, enter and announce that you

come to take the afflicted child back to the hospital. Instantly

a cry of terror, followed by the precipitate flight of these

girls, carrying their friend along with them, will teach you how

lively is the alarm of their tenderness.

A woman of beautiful and noble countenance, and superior

education, had been found insane at Brussels, without any

information concerning her. From her own imperfect answers, it

seems she was a native of Mauritius, where her father had been a

man of note in the French revolution. Entrusted to a family of

farmers at Gheel, they welcomed her with a delicate deference for

her probable antecedents. During twenty years, they served a

little table apart for her, with more elegance than their own;

yet they received on her account only the pittance allowed for

paupers. One day when Mr. Parigot mentioned this, they answered

him, "It is enough, doctor; we love our little lady, and we wish

to keep her here. No one could pay us for what we are doing; but

we have no children, and this is our society."

A father on his death-bed had recommended to his daughter a poor

lunatic, who had witnessed her birth, and who had amused her when

little. When she married, she brought him in dower to her husband

by the terms of the contract. Heaven blessed her generosity. The

lunatic lived to be nearly a hundred years old. During this

period, their house had to be rebuilt; but the spouses made a

sacrifice of its symmetry and convenience, so as to leave

untouched the cell of this old man which had become endeared to

him by a long abode.

{831}

The relatives of patients are often too poor to offer presents.

One day Dr. Parigot was visiting a young epileptic. As he had

always found him well cared for, and knew that his friends came

to see him every year, he ventured to ask the mistress of the

house what she received on his account. She smiled and replied:

"Our Joseph's relations are poor like me, and make their journey

afoot. I keep them here a week, and they return afoot, but I give

them a rye loaf and bacon to eat on the road. These are our

presents." The exercise of these pious and delicate virtues has

formed in the heart of the Gheel folk a sentiment of corporate

honor and of mutual responsibility, which withstands individual

perversions as well as the conflicts of social life. The whole

community is interested in the fate of these unfortunates. Every

one there might affirm concerning the insane, the _humani nihil

a me alienum puto_.

The household that has no lunatic seems to lack something, and

looks out for a favorable occasion to supply this want. The

reciprocal supervision of the inhabitants prescribes moderation

and justice to all. If woman presides in the household, and man

out of doors, the eye of the community, watching over both,

protects the weak in the course of daily life, as in the

struggles which a paroxysm sometimes necessitates. Denounced by

the cries of the victim, any arbitrary violence would be promptly

reported to the physicians and to the administration. If official

defenders were absent, the public voice would suffice, and it

could not be silenced. Any suspicion of improper conduct is

readily cleared up by the interchange of visits in the

neighborhood, and thus a protection is established permanent,

universal, invisible, sanctioned by custom and superior to all

administrative patronage or written rule.

A population thus reared in the practice of sincere devotion to a

special humanitary office, by immemorial tradition, by interest,

by personal and communal honor, and by religious faith, may well

bear comparison with the most zealous servants of any public or

private asylum. The brothers or sisters of charity, who are but

casually guardians of a certain infirmity the more difficult of

treatment, because it attacks the soul as well as the body, can

hardly possess those hereditary faculties and the thousand

expedients which from infancy upward germ in the child and

develop in a family and locality, devoted to the treatment of

insanity. How much more unequal is the comparison with simple

mercenaries! Heaven forbid we should ignore the abnegation of

self, so often evinced in the most obscure services, or the

unprovided aptitudes which neither danger nor disgust discourage.

Yet it cannot be denied that the insane generally persist in

regarding all overseers as jailers and complacent tools of the

injustice of families or of society. At Gheel, on the contrary,

the most susceptible patients can see around them only hosts who

take in boarders, and among whom they often find friends and

companions. Before all disinterested judgment, what is elsewhere

the competition of business here assumes the character of a

social and medical mission, while a closer analysis discerns, in

this creation of a lively faith sustained at once by charity and

interest, a fortunate equilibrium of the springs of human action.

The twofold motive of honor and interest acts in effect like a

spring regulated by a counterpoise.

{832}

Is the guardian distinguished for his sagacity and fidelity in

the discharge of his assumed cares? He will be kept upon the list

and recommended to families by the administration. He will have

the opportunity of selection, and may exercise it so as either to

gratify his sympathies or to advance his interests.

In the sphere of a true rural life, are freely developed those

affinities which re-ally man with the beast and bird, and this

first degree in the scale of affections is far from being without

influence on the state of certain patients. Some are interested

in the cattle which they tend, in the horses, the dogs, or the

birds, of which they make companions. One lunatic at Gheel is

constantly thinking of birds; no one is more ingenious than he in

catching them. Once caged, he never leaves them, he takes them

from his cell into the family apartment, or, while they disport

in the sunshine, their vigilant master mounts guard to protect

them from their enemy the cat. Is it doubtful that these

child-like enjoyments dissipate many sorrows, or that they aid to

re-establish the harmony of the soul with the body? Deprive this

man of the society of his birds, indubitably his condition will

be aggravated. Whether as predisposing or exciting causes,

wounded pride and vanity and passional isolation amid the

pressure of crowds underlie many forms of insanity. In assembling

under his protection the group of inferior animals, every man may

innocently satisfy sentiments which are ruffled and disappointed

among his own species. Spiritual space is enlarged about him, and

the heart is amused by the play of passions similar to his own in

organisms so different as to render impossible the collisions of

rivalry.

To this first appeasement of internal agitation by all the voices

of nature, labor comes to add its powerful revulsion. Its

benefits are now so universally known and proclaimed that,

wherever space permits, it is becoming one of the bases of

treatment. At Bicêtre, the neighboring farm of Saint Anne is in

great part cultivated by a squad of lunatics chosen among those

who most readily accept the discipline of command and corporeal

exercise. Work is at Gheel the easy law of every day and every

dwelling, allowing for the antipathy which certain lunatics

evince toward every occupation, and for incapacity by certain

kinds of illness. But industry at Gheel has this precious

distinction, that there the insane works among persons of sane

mind, whose speech and actions bring him back to reason, whereas

elsewhere he is surrounded with his companions in misfortune,

whom he finds the same in the fields as at the asylum. Instead of

being sequestrated in fantastic and unnatural society, he

continues to live in the real bosom of a social family whose

children are reared by his side, he hears rational conversations

and witnesses amusing scenes. Does he desire to take part in

these? He is obliged to the act of intelligent reflection.

Occasions naturally supervene when the lunatic, butting against

inflexible reality, is led to recognize the bewilderment of his

ideas.

The family compassionates his real or imaginary troubles, and the

latter are not the least afflictive. The lunatic is very sensible

of such kindness; for among many of them, the memories of

childhood, of friendship, or of neighborhood, are preserved quite

vivacious amid the ruins of the intellect. The death of a parent

or friend will often draw warm tears.

{833}

The unfortunate is consoled by showing interest in him. When this

sympathetic indulgence can no longer be asked of the natural

family, where hope for it elsewhere than in the adoptive family?

Less discomposed by its tenderness, the latter more easily

obtains the obedience of the lunatic, who even through his

darkened reason, fails not to perceive that he has neither the

right nor the means of imposing his caprices on strangers.

One fact constantly occurs at Gheel upon the arrival of raving

maniacs. After a few days passed in their guardian's house they

can scarcely be recognized. Coming with the strait-jacket or in

bonds, they are appeased as soon, almost, as these are taken off.

Must this change be attributed to the new sphere that environs

them, to the regard that is extended to them, or to the new

current of impressions and ideas that traverses their own folly?

These influences, severally useful, are strengthened by their

association. Through them, what remains sound in the mind is

aided by good tendencies; what there is morbid, is restrained. At

Gheel is perpetually renewed the phenomenon which occasioned so

much surprise at Bicêtre, at Charenton, and in all the hospitals

of Europe, when intrepid humanity broke their chains and whips,

considered, until then, the only possible instruments for

controlling the insane. It now remains for science to confess

that every closed establishment is in itself a chain, the last

but the heaviest that remains to be suppressed.

The lunatic taken to an asylum is, from the first, assailed with

painful impressions, bunches of large keys, massive doors, bolts,

bars, cells, yards, walls, guardians, uniforms, regulations,

bells, all the appearances and all the realities of a prison. At

Gheel, welcomed with alacrity by the family to which his abode

secures a pension, he feels himself at his ease. This first

welcome exerts over the insane soul the most auspicious

influence; for one who comes from a hospital, it is a true

emancipation. By daily repetition, this contentment soon becomes

an energetic preference. When of late years certain councils of

the Belgium hospitals decided on withdrawing their insane from

Gheel, to transfer them to a rival establishment for the sake of

some trivial economy, it occasioned the most touching scenes.

Guardians and lunatics embraced each other weeping, and several

of the latter hid themselves to escape from this transfer. Force

had to be employed with others. Besides breaking in upon their

affections and their habits, they knew they were passing from

liberty to confinement! When questioned on this subject, their

feelings clearly appear. A foreign physician visiting Gheel with

me, one day asked a lunatic who had spent some time in one of the

lock-up establishments, which system he preferred. "You may

answer that for yourself," he replied reservedly; but a long and

silent look beaming with joy was the expressive interpretation of

these words. This attachment to Gheel and to the guardian's

family often survives the cure. Guardians have often been known

to keep gratuitously, wards restored to their right minds, but

who had lost their families or their relations with the world.

Not seldom is a friendly correspondence kept up all their lives,

while living far apart. Annual pilgrimages from Brussels to Gheel

renew ties formed during the malady.

{834}

There seems to be no possible doubt that life for the insane is

more benign at Gheel than in the immense majority of asylums.

Patients sent there in the initial period of insanity, frequently

experience a change for the better, and many recover their

reason. Some cures have been effected at Gheel, after two or

three years of abortive treatment elsewhere. Maniacs, much

agitated, in whom the spring of life preserves its energy, are

cured sooner than the quiet ones, who often become imbecile.

Monomaniacs, especially religious monomaniacs, are seldom cured.

They are more fortunate with intermittent forms of insanity, and

such are the patients preferred by the Gheelois, as most helpful

in their work. Cures are more frequent on the farms, where the

insane labor, than in the village, where they are less occupied.

It seems to be ascertained that the number of cures has

diminished with the falling off in devotion, and this result is

no surprise to science, which, without intervening in the

religious question, accounts faith among the most powerful

therapeutic agents. Among the patients classed as curable, the

proportion of cures has averaged between fifty and sixty-five per

cent. Unfortunately, about three fifths of the patients sent to

Gheel are desperate cases, on whom all the resources of art have

been vainly exhausted elsewhere; for Gheel makes no flourish of

trumpets, and only of late years has possessed even an infirmary,

or a corps of physicians. Its simple hygiene of liberty, and the

family life of poor peasants, is not calculated to exert the

_prestige_ of those sadly magnificent palaces in which the

insane are confined by thousands, and where pretentious science

so unwisely snubs nature. Certain medical administrators have

even pretended that Gheel was only fit for the incurable.

Formerly, they came in search of miracles; now, they seek a last

abode here. It should be remarked, moreover, that hospitals,

where the keeping of the insane is a burden, are inclined to

dismiss them as cured on the earliest signs of real improvement;

while at Gheel, where their keeping is a source of profit, and

where the patient is often more comfortable than at home, nothing

hastens his departure, which is authorized only after mature

examination by the physician of the section and the general

inspector. The chances are greater here than elsewhere, that the

patient's dismissal corresponds to a solid cure.

In default of complete restoration, the conditions of life at

Gheel determine in the insane a general amelioration which

constitutes the gentlest manner of being compatible with mental

derangement. The morbid state, reduced to its simplest

expression, excludes neither physical comfort nor a certain order

of moral enjoyments, some of which are delicate even to

refinement. The subversive tendencies are attenuated, if not

quite annulled. A young lady, confined for a year in a large

asylum, used to break up there everything that she could lay her

hands upon, and the severest restraints had to be forced on her.

At Gheel, free among the peasants, she breaks up only little bits

of wood. Unable to overcome entirely the fatal impulse that

besets her, still she understands that she is in a family which

deserves consideration, since, far from oppressing her, they

allow her to obey her instinctive needs of active movement. The

young lunatic does her hosts as little harm as she can, and this

trait admirably exhibits the influence of Gheel, which mitigates

when it cannot cure, and obtains, better than any other system,

the state of passive "innocence."

{835}

This innocence rises occasionally to a sympathetic and rational

benevolence. Among the old lunatics there are, generally,

compatriots or acquaintances of the new-comers. The former become

the interpreters of their companions in misfortune; they initiate

them into the kind of life led at Gheel; they advise them how to

manage, point out to them what the place presents of interest,

and thus assist in naturalizing them. If liberty is the first

principle of the colonial system, labor is the second. Although

every lunatic is free to abstain from it, and no physical

discipline or coercive measure is brought to bear on him, a few

sympathetic words and example frequently suffice to wean the

insane from idleness. From half to two thirds of the whole number

are usefully occupied. The household cares are shared by women,

by the aged and the infirm, along with the children and servants

of the family. Most of the artisans, such as tailors,

shoe-makers, cabinet-makers, blacksmiths, bakers, curriers, etc.,

find a place in the local industry. Some work on their own

account, and are patronized in proportion to their skill. There

used to be at Gheel an excellent cabinet-maker, very intelligent,

and who earned a good deal of money in the exercise of his trade.

A Dutchman, he had served in the French army, was made prisoner

in Russia, then incorporated among the Cossacks of the Don. In

1815, being in Belgium, he deserted, or rather resumed his

liberty and nationality, and married at Brussels, where he fell

into hallucinations which occasioned his transportation to Gheel.

He lived twenty-five years there, practising his art with

success, and talked very rationally about matters in general,

only he affirmed that the devil every night entered his body by

the heels, and lodged somewhere in it, which led him to conclude

all his discourses by asking for a probe to hunt the evil spirit.

Care is taken to place every lunatic in a family so situated in

village or country, as to employ his or her industrial capacities

to the best advantage. The furious maniacs are most in request by

the peasants, a preference easily explained. Fury attests the

energy of the organism; the internal force, physical or moral, is

disordered but abundant. In their periods of calm, madmen of this

class are vigorous laborers; whereas no profit can be made of an

idiot or a paralytic. On a sudden and violent paroxysm of acute

mania, the farmer's family, aided by the passengers and

neighbors, soon obtain control of it. Quieted again, the lunatic

resumes his work, and this work, which profits the farmer,

ameliorates by an energetic and continuous diversion the state of

the patient, rendering his paroxysms less frequent.

Although the importance of working is now very generally

understood, few asylums are provided with adequate grounds,

workshops, and implements for employing their patients to

advantage; hence this progress is still a rare exception, and

even when it exists, its benefit is much diminished by the

vexatious constraint of its discipline resembling penitentiary

labor. In most of the rich establishments life passes in

oppressive idleness, leaving the patient all day long to his

dreams, without procuring him that muscular fatigue so propitious

to sleep at night. It is enough to drive a sane man mad.

As for mental occupation with books, games, spectacles, and

social assemblies, they tend to excite instead of reducing the

circulation of the brain, and are often opposed to the desired

equilibrium of the organism.

{836}

In the Russian hospitals, the military organization of labor

becomes but a tribute of passive obedience to absolute authority,

and ceases to effect energetic revulsion from the bewilderment of

the mind. So needlework affords to women a kind of instinctive or

mechanical activity of the fingers, which leaves the imagination

vagabond. Such labors, prolonged for many hours, are so much the

more objectionable from their sedentary nature, which rather

favors than averts glandular obstructions and correlative

disturbance in the circulatory and nervous systems.

The mode of life of the small farmer, considered as a whole,

combines natural interests with varied occupations and movements

requiring skill and strength in moderate degree, observation and

attention. Above all, man feels himself here a direct coagent

with the elemental forces, a shareholder in the commonwealth of

the universe, alternately obeying and commanding, utilizing and

enjoying the play of solar and planetary forces. It is true that

all have not equally the intellectual consciousness of their

participation in this great drama, nor the intimate satisfaction

and dignity that accrue from it; yet none can be alien to its

penetrating virtues, they sustain the meanest hind and the most

oppressed slave; much more, the free, the voluntary, and amateur

collaborator. The aspects of nature wear the color of the spirit;

they are sanative in proportion as man becomes the mirror, the

guide, and the instrument of her powers. In the prisoner, at best

their suggestions cherish painful aspirations. For the free

laborer alone are they pregnant with infinite sweetness.

The arts, and especially music, contribute to the social life of

Gheel, and repeat for many a tormented spirit the experience of

David with Saul. [Footnote 230]

[Footnote 230: I Kings xvi. 23.]

A lunatic, surnamed Colbert the Great, a skilful violinist,

founded the harmony or choral society, and his name is still

honored in the memory of all the Gheelois. His portrait adorns

the hall where the society holds its meetings, and this homage

attests the cordial fraternity, devoid of prejudices and of false

shame, which characterizes the Gheel folk. In their concerts, at

patriotic or religious festivals, the parts are distributed to

the musicians according to the irrespective talents; if they play

or sing well, nothing more is required. To improve natural gifts,

there is a singing-school for the insane. Müller, a distinguished

German composer and chief of the harmony club, is the director

designated by the public voice, who solicits the honor of

forming, among the insane, pupils who shall assist him in his

concerts.

Several of the insane are members of the choir of Saint Dymphna.

Many of them piously mingle in the processions. They are often

seen in this church imploring on their knees the grace of heaven.

Only those whose illusion it is to believe themselves gods or

kings, do not kneel, but otherwise behave themselves with decency

and respect. Here, as elsewhere, individuals subject to

aberrations of reason, still undergo the influence of the

prevailing tone and manner of deportment, and give in their turn

good examples. They are generally much attached to the faith of

their childhood. In health or in sickness, and at the approach of

death, they are admitted to the sacraments of the church whenever

their condition is not such as to exclude moral conscience. These

acts raise the poor lunatic in his self-respect, and in the eyes

of the population they are a medicine of the soul.

{837}

Toward the close of the eighteenth century, when the rigors

previously enforced against the insane were relaxed, a king was

the first to experience the benefits of an opposite system.

George III. was treated by Willis on the conditions of personal

liberty, out-door amusements, and the family life. The sons of

Willis, faithful to their father's lessons, continued to receive

at Greatford, lunatics boarded in private families, but at prices

which limited this privilege to the wealthy. Gheel, without

splendid palaces, gardens, and parks, which delight visitors, but

make little impression on those who are used to them, accords to

the poorest the treatment of George III., and with the precious

addition of work.

In France, Pinel was the promoter and persevering apostle of the

reform first inaugurated at Bicêtre, then extended to the

Salpétrière and Charenton. Aiming to raise to the dignity of

patients those hapless victims who had previously been treated as

criminals or as wild beasts, beaten and chained, he realized half

his programme in making them simple prisoners, watched and cared

for with intelligence. His successes were propagated throughout

Europe, and all public or private asylums abandoned the system of

direct violence or constraint, to give, in the measure of their

resources in grounds and buildings, a larger part to liberty of

action and to labor. The so-called "_non-restraint_" system

of England merely substitutes for active cruelties dark cells

padded with mattresses. Some asylums endeavor to utilize the

influence of the director's family circle, but only at Gheel are

the common rights of man accorded to the insane. Benevolent

sentiments toward the insane have been cherished in Mohammedan

countries; regular and methodical labor with a view to economy is

common to many establishments; excursions and amusements are

organized by a few: but nowhere so effectively as at Gheel have

liberty, sympathy, and labor been combined in the common interest

of the insane and of their keepers. These, with the sedative

influence of a mild, moist climate on the temperament, and the

consolations of religion for the soul, have almost divested

insanity of its dangers, and authorize emancipation from those

chains of stone which elsewhere weigh no less than chains of iron

on the unhappy victims of fear and distrust.

This humble parish addresses to every conscience a lesson

eloquent in its simplicity of tender devotion toward our brothers

the most fallen, and whom the world disdains and repulses. It

shows how charity may precede and complete science.

---------

{838}

Life's Charity.

And the great sea closed over that wild struggle, and the wreck

went down with its precious freight of immortality!

There was a single cry that came from the white lips, one glance

from the tearless, appealing eyes.

"All ready!" sounded a rough voice from the long-boat.

"For my child!" she called out to me, above the awful din and

tumult. And I could only clench the rosary with its precious

crucifix in my bosom, and spring into the already crowded boat. I

missed and fell, and, grasping an oar, fought the angry sea for

life.

I vaguely recollect a fearful shriek, as the steamer turned and

settled; and when she sank, the strong current drew in the last

of the boats, the boat in which _she_ had taken refuge. I

closed my eyes, but in my ear rang the agony, the wild despair of

that cry, "My God! my God!" I suppose I fainted; for I only

remember opening my eyes on the deck of a small vessel, which was

scudding under bare poles before a perfect hurricane. Weeks

passed by, and in a quiet English village, on the soft, balmy

south coast, I lay trying to regain the strength which brain

fever had quite exhausted.

My kind English nurse told me that through it all I grasped the

rosary, and her heart was touched by my devotion to the crucifix.

This recalled that fearful autumn morning, when, amid the dimness

of the fog, the _Arctic_ went down to her burial.

Reverently I kissed the crucifix, and murmured my _Credo_;

from the very depths of my soul went upward, "I believe in God!"

Then, as I clasped the cross, I felt it move; but I went through

my prayers, and I suppose that the pressure of my hands caused

the spring to move, and a closely folded paper fell upon my

breast. The crucifix was large and hollow. I carefully unfolded

the delicate paper, and a shudder passed over me as the vision of

that pale woman, struggling amid the breakers, arose from

memory's gloaming. The very first words that met my eye were, "I

believe in God! and," she wrote, "I will follow his guidance. Far

from those that are dearest to me, I have buried my husband where

his fathers rest; and now, my child's voice calls me from my home

across the Atlantic. I dreamed last night of a fog, a dense mist,

that hung like a curtain; of a fearful crash, and a vision of

anguish that seems too real for dreaming; but my child's voice is

echoing in my heart, and may God speed my wanderings! A sorrow as

of coming woe oppresses me; but I believe in God! and his mercy

will save me.

"My little daughter, Marguerite Cecil, is with her guardian,

Henry Alan, No. 86 East ---- street, New York. May the

everlasting Arms forever enfold her!

Ruth Cecil."

Poor lamb! my heart whispered, the one idol, and so desolate!

Well, the spring found me on my journey to the busy metropolis;

and wending my way to East ---- street, I found the most elfish

little fairy that fate had ever set drifting on life's ocean all

alone. A bonnie wee thing was Madge Cecil; so frail that her

tenure here seemed too slight for holding; yet from the wonderful

gray eyes came flashes that gave promise of a splendid future.

{839}

Golden hair courted the sunbeams, and, flecked with light,

wrapped around the most graceful contour that twelve summers had

ever shone upon. She knew of her mother's death, for her deep

mourning dress contrasted almost painfully with the delicate

whiteness of her complexion. And when I drew her upon my knee and

put the rosary in her hand, she threw her arms around me, and

sobbed as though her heart would break. I really trembled as I

listened, for a storm of passionate agony was convulsing a frame

which had little to offer in combat. "Mamma! mamma!" she sobbed

out, and she clasped me closer. "Will God take me home to her? O

mamma! come back!"

My heart ached for the child, whose grief seemed agonizing her

very soul, so I tried to quiet her, and told her of the brighter

home where, with the holy Mother of God, her own mother would be

singing hallelujahs. I told her that this earth was only a brief

journeying-place which led to the sweet haven of eternal love,

the land where farewells could never bring a cloud, nor partings

cast a shadow. Then the large gray eyes looked trustingly up into

my face, and with her arms around me, I felt the love of my heart

go out toward her with a strength and purity I had never known

before.

Soon after this, her guardian placed her at Madame Cathaire's

large boarding-school, and "Uncle Hal," as she now called me, was

always her chosen confidant and friend.

Years passed, and I watched her beautiful girlhood unfold. She

had rare talents, a quick intellect, and intense appreciation of

the beautiful; indeed, a purer spirit seldom lived in this mortal

tenement. Yet, with her enthusiastic, impulsive nature, she

possessed a quiet strength of control that caused visions of the

old martyrs to rise; for I felt that she, too, could wrestle with

passion, and, with God's grace, subdue all sin.

And thus time sped on, and each passing season left its impress

only to mature and render more perfect the succeeding; and her

eighteenth birthday found her the realization of spiritual

loveliness. The exquisite golden curls of her childhood fell in

irregular waves from the low Grecian brow, and the sweet, earnest

eyes always recalled those of Guido's angel, bearing the branch

of lilies, in his beautiful picture of "The Annunciation." She

was living with her guardian, and her great wealth attracted many

in a city where gold is "the winning card."

There was a charming freshness and _naïveté_ in the young

girl, and at times almost a religious light gleamed from the

depths of her large gray eyes.

Her guardian's nephew, Henry Elsdon, had just returned from

Europe, and I watched him as he dallied, at first carelessly,

among the crowd that gathered around her.

I did not fancy the young man, and there was an indescribable

barrier which rose up always when I tried to like him. He was

what the world would call handsome and _distingué_, but the

droop of the lower lip, the heavy jaw, and narrow forehead truly

told of the fierce animal nature within. Madge was very lovely in

this first season, and it was plainly apparent that he entirely

failed to impress her; indeed, at times her coldness toward him

was marked.

On returning from vespers, one mild May evening, she asked me to

accompany her on her Sunday visits. Of course, I went, for who

could refuse her? Down the dark streets we wandered, till we

arrived at an old brick house that, a hundred years ago, may

possibly have been in its prime.

{840}

She tapped at the dingy door, and, like an angel of light, her

presence seemed to brighten the room. A sick woman lay stretched

on a miserable pallet, and a racking cough shook her weak frame;

but a smile of happiness illumined the pinched features, and her

voice was tender as it thanked Madge for her gentle deeds of

love.

A woman's kindliness is nevermore beautifully displayed than in a

sick chamber; and my heart did homage to the young girl, as she

knelt by the sick woman's bed, murmuring, in low, comforting

tones, the prayer:

"Visit, we beseech thee, O Lord! this habitation, and drive far

from it all the snares of the enemy. May thy holy angels dwell

herein, to preserve her in peace; and may thy holy benedictions

always remain with her, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

Her face was radiant, and her upturned eyes were holy with

inspiration. Just then a shadow darkened the doorway, and I

looked, to meet the eyes of one perfectly absorbed in the scene

before him. My startled movement recalled Madge, and a soft color

deepened in her cheeks as she seemed to feel the observation of

the stranger.

"O Miss Cecil! here is Mr. Grey, who has been as kind as

yourself. This is Miss Cecil, Mr. Grey." And then he advanced,

and the fading sunlight fell upon a splendid specimen of manhood.

Six feet of magnificently proportioned height, and a head which

Vandyke would have gloried in; steel-gray, flashing eyes, a brow

upon which intellect and will were marked, and a complexion which

the suns of Southern Europe had darkened into olive.

"Pardon me. Miss Cecil, but the likeness is perfect, and the name

so familiar. Was your mother Ruth Anderson?"

Tears streamed from her eyes as she half-whispered, "Yes!" She

could never speak calmly of her mother, for her love seemed only

to strengthen as years made the loss more keenly felt. In an

instant he was by her side, and, with the tender but perfectly

respectful manner--the manner so acceptable to a woman--he told

her how eagerly he had sought for this child of his old and

esteemed friend. He had gone abroad with her mother, and remained

in Europe till within a few months. He had read of the fearful

doom of the _Arctic_, and vainly tried to trace the child.

"I need not tell you, Madge, how very glad I am to see you, and,

before long, I shall hope to be a very good friend."

And they did meet very often. Madge spent the summer at Newport,

and Mr. Grey's cottage was near her guardian's lovely home. I

suppose there is truth in the old and familiar theory of elective

affinities; for the strength of his nature seemed to absorb her

gentle, loving trust, and her impulsive, passionate heart was

entirely swayed by his steady, strong affection; in truth, each

chord felt the echo from his. And so, in the autumn, I was not

surprised when she pointed to a magnificent _solitaire_

diamond on the forefinger of her left hand, and told me that she

had promised to be the wife of Newton Grey.

They had returned to New York, and Madge and Mr. Grey were

looking over a portfolio of engravings at the further end of the

library, while I sat smoking in front of the bright coal-fire,

dreaming day-dreams, as the smoke curled and floated away, when

suddenly the door opened and Henry Elsdon came in. I shall never

forget the look that, only for one single moment, darkened his

features; only for an instant his face looked thus, and then,

with a quick, soft step, he crossed the library, and

_suavely_ joined the circle

around the engravings.

{841}

I could see that Newton Grey would never stoop to suspect him;

but Madge recoiled from him, for there was not the slightest

affinity between such natures.

"Uncle Hal," she told me one morning, "I always feel that I ought

to cross myself when Henry Elsdon comes near me, that I may pray

to be saved from some impending evil."

And my lamb was right, for truly a wolf did prey near for her

destruction.

Business called me to the South, and I left New York to breathe

the balmier air of Charleston. It was a delicious winter, that

soft season in the sunny South. Violets in the gardens in

December, and the scarlet winter roses and sweet mignonette

brightening the lovely villa--like houses on the battery.

I was slowly descending the stone steps that led from the

beautiful cathedral, while the last echoes of the bishop's gentle

voice yet rang in my ears, when a letter was put into my hands by

my friend Colonel Everett. I did not open it then, but strolled

down Broad street, to the Mills House, and in my pleasant room I

sat down to enjoy Madge Cecil's confidence. Imagine my horror as

I read:

"Come to me, dear Uncle Hal, for God alone can strengthen me in

this fearful sorrow. I cannot understand, but yesterday Mr. Grey

left me after a short visit, and to-day they tell me that he is

dead. I hear low whisperings of a terrible sin, of which Henry

Elsdon is guilty. For my dead mother's sake, come and aid your

desolate Madge."

I left that evening, and on Saturday held my darling in my arms.

Then the whole story in its fearful detail was repeated. Henry

Elsdon had wished to marry my ward, but she had refused him, some

time before her engagement with Newton Grey. Elsdon's pride was

piqued, and he determined to be revenged. Then began a system of

deceit that was Machiavelian; for with subtle skill he won Grey's

friendship, till at last, in one unguarded moment, he dared to

speak lightly of Madge. In an instant Grey rose, his face white

with a terrible calm:

"I am in my own rooms, Mr. Elsdon, therefore you are safe; but

you must feel that each word that you have uttered shall be

retracted, else there can be but one settlement."

"And, by God! there shall be but one settlement!" And Elsdon's

face glared with hate.

And so in the code that teaches murder--cold, passionless, brutal

murder--they sought refuge; and Newton Grey fell, pierced through

the temples.

Sorrows seem truly convoyed on this ocean of life, this sea of

wild unrest; for in a few months Mr. Alan lost his fortune, and,

of course, my ward's wealth was also engulfed in the great

whirlpool of ruin.

A strange suspicion clouded my heart, and with an intuition of

the truth, I felt that I could single out the demon who had

spread destruction in this home.

But with the suavity of deceit, he subtly turned aside the tide

of censure, so justly his due, and the world even forgave him for

the duel; for strange travestied stories floated through the

city. Who gave them to the public? I felt, I knew that Henry

Elsdon had only added to the infamy which weighed upon his soul;

but as yet the avenger had not struck, the race of hell had not

been accomplished! ...

It was the exciting winter of '60 -- December, 1860! South

Carolina had torn herself from her sisters, and Washington was in

a ferment. Crowds congregated at the hotels to watch the opening

of a season fraught with destiny.

{842}

Men with reckless, evil passions increased the excitement; for

cognac burned and whiskey infuriated, and the whole mass of

humanity seemed consumed by the one madness, mutual hate!

It was the evening of the 27th of December. The telegraph had

spread the news of Anderson's evacuation of Fort Moultrie, and

the agitation was culminating in effort. There is a season when

enthusiasm pulses, till the wild madness intoxicates all feeling;

then some sudden crowding on of events drives the fierce current

into action, and the mighty mass heaves and surges with one will,

one heart, for the conflict; and so it was to night. I stood on

the corner of Pennsylvania avenue and Seventh street, watching

the changing faces which the gas-light flared upon, when a

woman's voice in wild terror startled me. "In the name of the

cross, forbear!" she cried. And I turned to see a face pale with

fear and horror. In an instant I was beside her; she held the

cross of her rosary toward the man who had dared, not only to

insult a woman, but one of God's ministering angels, those pure

spirits of comfort, the Sisters of Mercy.

I struck the brute from her, but not without recognizing the

features, even though inflamed and distorted by liquor. She

almost fainted in my arms, but I placed her in my sister's

carriage, just then passing, and ordered it to drive to the

address which she gave.

What there was in the tones of that woman's voice I could not

explain to myself; but a sad chord vibrated till the echoes waked

in my heart feelings that I thought were sleeping quietly in a

jealously guarded grave of the past. ...

Four years had gone by since that night, and the war that shook

this continent had closed; ended were the years that had brought

their holocaust, the proof of the calibre of the men who had died

on the field of honor.

Grant's triumphant legions garrisoned the Confederate capital,

and I was appointed surgeon in charge of ---- Hospital, where the

sick and wounded of both armies were tended by the Sisters of

Mercy.

The intense heat of those early summer days I can never forget,

and the poor fellows in blue and gray tossed from side to side on

the narrow cots in the fever wards. It was my night in ----

Hospital, for I was appointed to relieve Dr. ----, and I observed

a "sister" bending over a patient whose white face and faint

voice told me that his hours were numbered.

"Sister Mary," said the feeble tones, "will you bathe my temples?

they burn and throb as fiercely as my own heart. Sister, can a

vile wretch ask you to stand near when he is dying? Sister, you

who are pure and holy, tell me if God will pardon me?"

"He came to save sinners!" I heard the low voice whisper. And she

smoothed back the tangled masses of dark, waving hair, and

tenderly soothed the poor fevered brow on which the dews of death

were gathering. "Stay near me, sister. Let me hold your hand,

while I listen to your voice, that recalls one in the long ago. O

God! look down in mercy!"

And she whispered sweet words of comfort that calmed the unrest

of sin and shame.

"Sister, if I could give all the years that I have wasted, if I

would toil and struggle and pray for pardon, would Christ have

mercy upon one whose years are heavily weighted with sin?"

"Repent, and ye shall be saved."

{843}

"Ah God! I do repent, and if a thousand years of suffering could

atone for all, I would not shrink from a single pang. Sister,"

and he turned and held her hand closer, and gazed long and

anxiously into her half-averted face. "My God! can it be?" But

she turned further into the shadowy twilight, and her face was

almost hidden. "Sister, I must tell you, because there is

something in your tone and look, though I cannot see you well,

that brings her back to me; so be patient for a little while and

do not leave me yet. In the long ago I loved, and she whom I

worshipped gave me no return. I think that circumstances might

have moulded her differently, though my selfish passions taught

me then to care for little, save what contributed to my own

gratification. Well, I watched her love for another, and the

devil influenced me; he stole away my truth, my love, my honor! I

was mad with jealousy, I was wild with disappointed love, and I

swore to be revenged. Therefore the schemes I laid, the deceit I

practised; ay, I bided well my time. I stole the friendship of

her lover, and poured my poison into his ears; but his noble

nature shamed me, his trust could not be shaken; then--ah! how

well I remember the evening--I spoke of her as my heart never

believed; I lied, wickedly, maliciously lied, upon her! Then his

knightly spirit rose, and he fell by my hand! I had begun; the

poison was maddening; I could not stop, even though murder barred

my path; so I counselled her guardian as to investments, and in

one mad moment her fortune crashed with his.

"Still I tracked her on her mission of mercy to Washington; I

dogged her steps when she left the couch of the sick woman whose

death agonies she had soothed; I stood near the door of the

wretched hovel, listening to the sweet tones of her voice that is

haunting me to-night; and--I hardly knew what I was doing, I only

felt that there was yet something undone which might humble her,

might place her at my mercy; hell's fires raged in my heart--and,

may God forgive me, but I spoke words to her which no man should

utter and live. But she escaped me, and was torn from my grasp,

while her pallid face grew whiter still as she spoke in terror,

'In the name of the cross, forbear!'

"Since that evening, I have never seen her face; but, sister,

to-night all her saintly purity comes back to shame me, and I

feel that the flames of hell would be less fiery if I could hear

her say, 'I forgive you!'" There was a brief pause; the twilight

of June shadowed the whitewashed wards, and the young moon shed a

soft light over the starry heavens; but was it a message that

flashed from Our Lady's crown, that lit the pallet over which the

sister leaned? Ay, the face of Guido's angel, the angel of the

lilies, shone over the dying man, as the sweet voice whispered,

"Do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which

despitefully use you."

"Her voice!" he cried. And a sudden strength seemed to possess

him; for, seizing her hand, he pushed back the black bonnet, and

whispered, "Madge Cecil, dare I pray for your pardon?"

"And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass

against us. Amen." And she gave him her crucifix, which he

pressed to his lips.

"Then let me die in your faith; for, if its doctrines teach you

even to forgive me, then through the prayers of your church will

God grant mercy to my soul." He fainted in her arms, and she

summoned me.

"Dr. ----, take care of him till my return."

{844}

I had heard it all, but she failed to recognize me. Grief had

whitened my hair, and an iron-gray beard covered my face; and I

preferred that she should not know me yet Soon I saw her return

with Father Baker. My cordial had revived Elsdon, and in faint

voice he repeated his wish.

"Let me be received, father, into the communion of the Holy

Catholic Church, and pray God to have mercy on my soul."

The time was short, and no precious moment of it was to be lost.

The good priest proceeded at once to his work of preparing the

poor man for death. His penitence seemed sincere and profound,

and his desire for the sacraments of the church most earnest.

They were at once administered to him; and on his fervently

expressed wish that the holy viaticum might be permitted to him,

it was brought.

A snowy linen cloth was spread on the table by his bed, and two

candles placed beside the crucifix. Solemnly we gathered near,

for we felt that his life was fast fleeting. I have never seen

nor realized more of the agony of contrition than when he slowly

repeated after the priest, suffering at each word most intensely,

"Jesus, Son of the living God, have mercy upon me!" At last he

grew calmer. A quiet peace rested on his pale face, and after

receiving the most holy communion, he murmured faintly, "Jesus,

have mercy on me! Holy Mary, pray for me!" and folding the

crucifix to his heart, he closed his eyes and we thought he

slept. A deathlike stillness reigned, broken only by the solemn

tones of the priest's voice: "Into thy hands we commend his

spirit, which has been created and redeemed by thee!"

And in that pentecostal hour, when the storm of her life wailed

its wild requiem in her heart, a holy calm, as a message from

God, glorified her exquisite face, for the Comforter had sealed

her with the expiation--the working out of life's great charity--

"Do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which

despitefully use you and persecute you."

--------------

The Rights Of Catholic Women.

By A Lady.

[We took occasion, some months ago, to sketch a number of the

charitable works of Paris, in the hope of stirring the

emulation of some of our leisured, zealous, and wealthy

fellow-citizens to undertake something of the kind in this

densely crowded city. The correspondent whose communication is

given below, and whose contributions have often graced our

pages, has felt her soul stirring with the same impulse in

visiting Catholic Europe. Her earnest words came appropriately

after the letter we published last month respecting a Refuge or

Central Mission-House for vagabond children. There lies an open

field where hundreds may work without jostling each other; and

we hope this iron may be hammered while it is hot into a

practical shape, and not merely serve as a poker to a useless

fire of sentimental philanthropy. There is nothing like

reducing the abstract to the concrete, sentiment to work,

resolution to definite action.

{845}

We venture to suggest something else, also, to those of our

fair readers who may be awakened to a desire of claiming their

woman's rights by the appeal of their gifted countrywoman. It

is practical, and yet not so difficult, as sending checks for

one thousand dollars, or searching the streets for vagrant

children. A society exists in Paris for making and embroidering

vestments and other ornaments for the altars of poor churches

and missions. Why not inaugurate the same work among the ladies

of New York, for the benefit, first, of small country churches

and chapels in our own diocese, and secondarily of similar

churches elsewhere? We cannot rival Paris by a sudden _coup

de main_ or accomplish everything in a day. But it is

possible to make a beginning with one necessary work of charity

after another, and to bring them gradually to the colossal

dimensions which want and misery and vice have attained without

any effort.--Ed. C. W.]

In _The Atlantic Monthly_ of April and May, 1868, appeared a

generous and high-toned article, entitled "Our Roman Catholic

Brethren," in which the author, appreciating the fact that no one

can lose ground by treating with justice those who differ from

him in opinion, frankly recognized the noble struggles of our

priesthood and the success with which they have been crowned.

One assertion in this article we shall venture to comment upon,

making this the occasion for a few suggestions to the Catholic

women of the United States, whose right to share the labors of

Catholic men is inalienable and incontestable, being founded upon

the unvarying teaching of the church.

The author, in speaking of a missionary bishop whom he had known

and respected as an "absolute gentleman," an "exquisite human

being," in whom all the frailties springing from self-love had

been consumed, leaving the "whole man kind, serene, urbane, and

utterly sincere," concludes thus: "_A Catholic priest, indeed,

would be much to blame if he failed to attain a high degree of

serenity, moral refinement, and paternal dignity;_" because,

be it understood, he has neither family cares nor business

anxieties to harass him.

Most assuredly true, so far as concerns priests in a Catholic

country, where the ranks of the priesthood are full; perhaps true

in a purely missionary country, where the priest, in his

intervals of repose, communes with his only companions, God and

nature; absolutely untrue when applied to a parish priest in the

United States, drained of his spiritual riches all day, and often

half the night, and for relaxation thrown sometimes upon the

companionship of his inferiors. It is no uncommon thing to see a

noble priest, at the very centre and core of life, when powers

should be ripe, strength unbroken, hope and nerves unshaken,

break down, crushed under the weight of work which should have

been divided between several persons, leaving to each one work

enough to occupy a man of average capacity, time for study, and

time for the recuperation of his spiritual powers by prayer and

meditation.

Now, where is the remedy for this? Not in a sufficient number of

clergymen, because we cannot hope for such a blessing for many

years to come. Not in a diminution of labor, thank God, for the

domain of the church is constantly widening, and souls are

clamoring more and more eagerly for the privileges of religion.

{846}

The assistance must come from the laity, not working each one

after a fashion of his or her own, but in a systematic manner,

doing the work recommended by the parish priest in the way most

agreeable to him.

That the Conference of St. Vincent de Paul contains all the

elements necessary for providing Catholic men with missionary

work, we are well aware; therefore we address ourselves

exclusively to Catholic women.

Early in February of the present year, on a radiant Roman day,

the remains of Saint Ignatius, bishop and martyr, were brought in

triumph to the Colosseum from their resting-place in San

Clemente. There, where, 1758 years before, the cry had gone up

from 80,000 spectators, "Ignatius to the lions!" the Litany of

the Saints arose to heaven; there, where wild beasts had snarled

over their consecrated prey, canonized bones lay on a gorgeous

bier, surrounded by cardinals, bishops, priests, and religious,

gathering about them in veneration. One, at least, of those who

watched the scene from the crumbling galleries, asked herself

eagerly if God has ceased to call upon his children for

sacrifices, as he called upon the early Christians; and

conviction answered. No; that, though martyrdom has a mysterious

value in the eyes of the church, she tenderly loves those who

patiently endure the pangs of "that incurable malady which we

call life."

And the Christian passing through the catacombs of Rome to-day,

pausing in silent awe beside the tombs of martyred virgins,

mothers, children, and pontiffs, draws in with every breath the

same glorious assurance which gave them strength to suffer--the

assurance that God would have us serve him with every nerve and

fibre of our being. He claims from the nineteenth century, as he

claimed from the first, not, indeed, its blood, but its energies,

its faith, its charity. He summons every soul capable of the

sacrifice of self to a life in the catacombs, to a holy, interior

solitude, where his inspirations can be distinctly heard, where

the buzz and hum of the world are inaudible. And as, after the

celebration of the sacred mysteries, the early Christians were

dismissed, and sent back to the performance of their ordinary

avocations, invigorated and renewed; so God releases such souls

after communing with them, and sends them forth to work for him,

setting upon them three signs to distinguish them from other

laborers--peace, simplicity, and perseverance.

In the early ages the laity suffered martyrdom with the clergy.

In our own day, the laity should share the labor of the clergy.

We are not summoned to bear witness to God in one mighty

confession of faith sealed with our blood; but we are bound to

show our fidelity to him by lives of unremitting devotion, to

lighten the burdens weighing on the priesthood, to do our utmost

to leave them leisure for the direction of souls, and for those

works of supererogation which are the very heart and pulses of a

life consecrated to God.

There are four things which we do not wish to recommend to

Catholic women; namely, neglect of domestic duties, overexertion

on the part of invalids, indiscreet activity in recent converts,

the undertaking of difficult enterprises by those who are not

gifted with executive faculty.

Home is the training-school of souls, and a mother's chief duty

is to her husband and children. The physically weak serve God by

renunciation and sacrifice, hardest and noblest of all

apostleships. Converts, generally speaking, should show their

families, by tact, affection, fidelity to home duties, that

conversion has only knit them more closely to old friends and to

natural claims; and this is seldom consistent with much exterior

activity soon after conversion. It is very rarely advisable to

undertake any work of importance without the advice of a

judicious confessor; a just appreciation of one's personal

strength and weakness is too rare a gift to be relied upon as a

right.

{847}

It is our misfortune in the United States that the number of

communities is very small in proportion to the work to be done;

but though a clergyman would rather receive assistance from

religious than from any one else, he would gratefully accept the

aid of women of the world, provided they were possessed of

judgment, tact, and perseverance.

To take up a charitable enterprise from love of excitement and

lay it aside just as one's assistance had become valuable, would

not be a proceeding modelled on the actions of the early

Christians.

To make one's way into a public institution to patients or

prisoners in a manner at variance with the regulations of the

establishment, would not tend to advance the cause of religion.

To foster the whims of the poor and excite in them false wants,

would add to their sufferings, not lessen them.

All these mistakes may easily be made by well-meaning persons who

have not prudence. With fidelity, modesty, and common sense, it

is impossible to make serious blunders, and it is possible to do

a great deal of good without the sacrifice of much time or

comfort.

Those who have health and leisure can work for the church; those

who are too busy or too ill to undertake missionary labor can

pray for the church. All who have an hour to spend or an ave and

pater to recite, or an ache or a pain to offer to Almighty God,

can do their share of the blessed work.

Without questioning the fact that the highest of all vocations is

the call to a religious life--conceding the point that the work

done by women has been usually better done by religious than by

women of the world--we think there is a tendency to deny, to

that obligation resting upon us all to do the work God marked out

for us, the name of _vocation_, unless it leads us to a life

in the community or to marriage. We venture to predict that an

important share is to be taken in the work of the church in this

country by women who have neither a vocation to join a religious

order nor to marry.

There is a correspondence between the various vocations of

religious orders and those of persons living in the world. Let us

read over the golden record, and decide which path we are called

to follow. There are the working orders, Sisters of Charity, of

Mercy, of the Good Shepherd; the teaching orders, Ursulines,

Sisters of the Visitation, Ladies of the Sacred Heart, and that

sweetest of orders, the Sisters of Notre Dame, whose fame is

hidden behind humility and obedience; and the contemplative

orders, on whose prayers hang the fruit of thousands of energetic

enterprises.

Most of the prisons, work-houses, and hospitals in the United

States need the influence of judicious women. As such

institutions are almost exclusively filled with poor people, and

as more than half our poor people are Catholics, more than half

the inmates of asylums, penitentiaries, etc., are Catholics; it

is, then, a matter of justice that Catholic prisoners, patients,

and paupers should be under Catholic influences.

{848}

Obedience to discipline is a principle most strongly inculcated

by the church, and no consistent servant of the church will

infringe the smallest regulation in any institution to which he

has admission. When this truth is fully recognized, Catholic

ladies will be allowed to visit freely all the public

establishments in the Union. Let those who wish to do work

corresponding to that of the working orders use all available

opportunities for alleviating the sufferings and ameliorating the

condition of the lower classes.

There are hosts of children who must learn the catechism; not

after a parrot-like fashion, such as any ignorant person can

teach it to them, but in a vital manner, so that the truth shall

be set in their souls like a jewel, to be transmitted to future

generations as a precious heritage. Every well-disposed and

intelligent Catholic child can be sent forth from his course of

instruction in the Sunday-school with the fervent determination

to be a missionary in his own little sphere. Those who emulate

the labors of the teaching orders have not far to seek for their

work.

The Catholic literature of France, Germany, and Italy should be

in general circulation in America, through the medium of good

translations. Women are especially fitted to be translators.

Their impressionable and adaptive minds make it easy for them to

understand an author's thought and adopt his style. Let those who

would follow in the footsteps of the contemplatives of earlier

ages, whose leisure hours were given to writing for the benefit

of religion, study critically their mother tongue and one other

modern language, and thus unlock some of the treasures of foreign

literature to those less gifted than themselves.

But enough, and more than enough for the present. We have sought

to arouse a sense of the importance of the work to be done, not

to explain the best method of accomplishing it. We have tried to

show Catholic women what are their rights, leaving it to God to

awaken in them a noble ambition to claim and appropriate those

rights.

--------------

The Last Gasp Of The Anti-catholic Faction.

Protestantism and the Protestant denominations may be considered

under two aspects. Under one aspect, the former is an imperfect

Christianity, and the latter are societies professing each a

certain form of this Christianity. As such we respect them,

recognize the Christian and evangelical truths they retain, honor

the virtue and goodness which are found among their adherents,

and freely admit their great utility in many important

particulars. We have no desire to wage a fierce polemical war

upon them, but rather desire to discuss with them in a fraternal

spirit the differences between us, the causes which keep us in

separation, and the means of reconciliation and reunion.

Under the other aspect, the one is a denial of the first

principles of Christianity, and the others are aggregations under

the control of party-leaders whose principal object is the

destruction of the church of Christ with its dogmas and

discipline.

{849}

Although particular denominations do not avow a hostile intent

toward all dogma and discipline, each one professing to maintain

whatever it has selected as its constitutive principle out of the

entire Christian system, yet the general sum and result of their

combined efforts against the Catholic Church tends to the utter

demolition of Christianity. This active, anti-Catholic

Protestantism in our own day and country is principally confined

to a comparatively small fraction of nominal Protestants. It is a

wheel within a wheel, an _imperium in imperio_, a ring, a

faction, very impotent, but extremely turbulent. The deadly

quarrels of its component members with each other interfere

materially with their unity of action against their common enemy.

Now and then, however, a common sentiment seems to awaken in them

that they had better postpone their private disputes until they

have compassed by their united energies the fall of Babylon. Such

a phenomenon has appeared quite recently in the ecclesiastical

heavens. The newspapers of the principal sects have resounded

with a call for united efforts on the part of Episcopalians,

Presbyterians, Unitarians, etc., against the progress of the

Catholic Church in the United States. Dr. Bellows, who is as

restless as if he were pursued by the Eumenides, and who seems to

get into a more uncomfortable frame of mind every day as he

prosecutes his travels, sends over a loud call showing the

necessity of doing something to preserve that Protestantism which

it has been the business of his life to overwhelm with ridicule

and contempt. The liberal papers, false to their reiterated

protestations of hatred against orthodox Protestantism and

sympathy with Catholics, re-echo the sound, which is taken up by

one and another of the lowing presses in turn, until each one

_quid lachrymabile mugit_. Dear friends, what is the matter?

If you will permit the citation of a somewhat trite classical

passage, permit us to ask, _Tantaene animis coelestibus

irae?_ We have been much at a loss to divine the immediate

exciting cause of such a sudden aggravation of symptoms in our

domestic "sick man." We think, however, that we have at last

discovered that we are the innocent cause ourselves, through a

few little harmless tracts, which were intended as a poultice,

but have proved, we suppose on account of the extreme

irritability of the patient's skin, a violent blister. We made

the discovery by reading the following circular, which we publish

cheerfully, in order to promote as much as possible that free and

lively discussion which our excellent friends at the Bible House

desire:

(Private.)

American and Foreign Christian Union,

27 Bible House, New York,

June 17, 1868.

Mr. Editor:

Dear Sir: We are desirous of employing, in your journal, the

pen of one of your ablest contributors, in the fair and

thorough discussion of the recent publications and pretensions

of the Roman Catholic Church.

You have doubtless seen some of the popular tracts of the

"Catholic Publication Society." They have been circulated in

all parts of the country with great assiduity. They are very

ingenious and plausible, and very fallacious. It is matter of

common interest to all who love evangelical truth that these

fallacies should be promptly and effectively exposed.

{850}

We have a proposition to make which seems to us to be for the

mutual advantage both of your enterprise and of ours. If you

will send us the address of that one of your contributors or

collaborators whose papers on this subject will be most

acceptable to you and your readers, we will make proposals to

him for contributions to your journal, we supplying him with a

copy of the series of popular tracts of the "Catholic

Publication Society," and such other documents as he may need,

and paying for his literary labor at a generous rate of

compensation.

If you shall succeed in introducing us to writers on the Roman

Catholic controversy who are learned, accurate, and courteous,

and at the same time lively and effective in their popular

style, we shall hope to continue and renew an arrangement which

must be for the advantage of all the parties to it, and of the

great cause of Christian truth.

Yours respectfully,

J. Romeyn Berry,

H. C. Riley,

Leonard W. Bacon,

E. F. Hatfield,

Samuel I. Prime,

_Committee on Publications of the "American

and Foreign Christian Union_."

Naturally, we have been on the alert ever since receiving this

interesting circular, expecting a rare treat from the articles to

be furnished by the learned, courteous, lively, and well-paid

contributors to the press who must have jumped at once at this

handsome offer. We have not yet gathered in a very ample

collection of choice _morçeaux_ as the result of our study

of the anti-Catholic press. We have obtained, however, a few

gleanings which may be indications of an abundant harvest yet to

come. Here is one from _The Episcopalian_, which no reader

of that paper will expect to find either accurate, courteous, or

lively, but which, as communicating a piece of rare and recondite

information, may fitly prove a sample of the "learned" style:

"It has been suggested--and, we think, not without some

reason--that the origin of ritualism in the Protestant

Episcopal Church may be traced to the Roman Catholic Church

itself; in other words, that the Roman Church, with the view of

proselyting the Episcopal Church, has sent among us secret

emissaries, of the Jesuit stamp, who, while pretending to be

Episcopalians, are really Romanists, and whose mission it is to

introduce one Romish novelty after another, until the

congregations in which they are introduced are gradually but

surely drawn into the communion of the Romish Church.

"To those who have studied the far-seeing policy of the Roman

Church, and its secret workings for ages past, this suggestion

will not seem strange or far-fetched. That equally subtle means

for proselyting have been used by that church in times past no

one can doubt who has read its history; and what has been done

can be done--or, at least, tried--again.

"Freese.

"Trenton, N.J., June, 1868."

The following, from _The Brooklyn Union_, if not learned or

lively, is at least in a high degree "accurate and courteous,"

being a most respectful remonstrance against the audacity of

Catholics in presuming to be so numerous, and to lay the

corner-stone of a cathedral in open day on Sunday:

"He that Rules the City Rules the Country.--The Pope of Rome

well knows this axiom. The Jesuits know it. The politician

knows it. They all _act_ upon it. Cities are chosen as

their centres of organization. From these centres their power

radiates through every town and village and hamlet and district

of our land. In a government like our own, this is particularly

true. The pulsations of life and power of our larger cities,

both in religion and politics, indicate the condition, in these

respects, of our whole country. Hence the favored policy of the

Papal hierarchy of inducing its subjects, when emigrating to

the United States, to settle within the limits or easy access

of our cities. Statistics show that the foreign Papal

immigration, East, West, North, and South, settle chiefly

within or about our cities.

{851}

No one with his eyes open has failed to see this with respect

to New York, New Orleans, St. Louis, Chicago, Cincinnati, and

Buffalo. The _foreign_ population of these cities

_rule_ them. They present a majority of thirty thousand in

New York. What may be their exact proportions in our other

populous cities, the writer has at present no means of

ascertaining. But from the number, the grandeur, and the

costliness of their cathedrals and educational institutions in

other cities--in such as Chicago and St. Louis--we should judge

that their number is greater in proportion to their population

than it is in New York. This statement has reference to the

Papists. For the _infidel_ proportion who come to our

shores from Europe, and who have been driven to infidelity by

the tyranny and wickedness of Papacy, have no sympathy with

that system in propagating its means of worship. All their

sympathies are with our free institutions. Their licentiousness

and disregard of the Christian Sabbath are the fruit of their

infidelity. Even for this the Papal Church is responsible

before God. But the Papacy, in its _spirit_ and in its

_policy_ and in its _designs_, is opposed to our

republican government. It is the sworn inveterate enemy to

every principle and policy which favors republicanism. No

bishop, no priest, and no member of the Papal Church ever has

been or ever can be a loyal subject of a free government. Every

pretence or profession or act which they avow to the contrary

is the necessary outgrowth of wilful deception, hypocrisy, and

falsehood. Among the _masses_ of her members an oath of

loyalty may be the result of ignorance; and it may be permitted

to remain of binding authority so long as it does not conflict

with their first and paramount obligations with their church.

But with the bishops, the priests, and the Jesuitical hordes of

their hierarchy, an oath of loyalty or of testimony is of no

value as a test of truthfulness. Nay, it is often taken as a

means of deception, to accomplish some concealed purpose. Their

fundamental doctrines of _mental reservation_ and

_universal subordination_ to Rome necessarily exclude from

their virtues that of true patriotism. That this hierarchy has

for some years past been collecting, arranging, and

concentrating the elements of her strength in and around the

cities of the United States, is evident to any one who has

watched its progress. Her power is abundantly manifest in the

influence which she has exerted in the legislation of our

cities and our states, in the appointments of many of our

highest offices of trust and power, in the disposition and

distribution of our public charities, and in the control of our

popular system of education; and that the time has come, in

their judgment, when she can, with safety to herself, openly

assert her power, can be seen in the popular tracts, now

numbering some thirty-one, of her religious press, in the

public discussions of her periodicals, in her

politico-religious organizations, as well as in her open and

defiant Sabbath parades, and other desecrations of that blessed

day. Let her have full scope to her power and freedom _as a

church, in a legitimate way_. Let her seek to build up her

cause as a system of religion, the same as Protestant churches

in our country. But let her not attempt to ride rough-shod upon

the rights of Protestants by her noisy parades, with drum and

fife and boisterous shouts in front of our churches upon the

Sabbath--by her insolent and brutal outrages upon unoffending

Protestants when peaceably pursuing their avocations. Let her

no longer refuse to listen to the respectful remonstrances of

American citizens against such encroachments. Public religious

services and the administration of the Lord's Supper in some of

our churches were almost entirely prevented by the noise and

confusion of the Papal parade on a late Sabbath. This nuisance

has been _repeated_ in New York and Brooklyn in opposition

to the respectful but earnest petition of Protestant laymen and

clergy. On these occasions, several of our largest streets were

piled up with city passenger-cars, that were forced to stop

running on account of the procession. And what was all this

confusion, all this violation of law and order, upon the

Christian Sabbath for? Why, simply that a single Papal

congregation might lay the corner-stone of the church of the

'Immaculate Conception.' Hundreds of quiet and orderly churches

must be interrupted in their worship, the rights of large

corporations must be trampled under foot, and the stillness of

the Sabbath be invaded by the drum and fife and shout of a

_drunken rabble_, for the sake of a single Papal

congregation! Such occasions are not without a purpose. They

afford the priesthood a fine opportunity of testing the

strength of numbers, of trying the patience of the Protestant

community, of gradually corrupting their respect for the

Christian Sabbath, and of intimidating politicians with a show

of power. Their design is a _political_ one. There is no

religion about it. Her power is broken upon the 'Seven Hills'

of Italy, and she is trying now to re-establish it in the

metropolis of America. But who dare array himself against her

avowed determination to subordinate all things to her purpose?

{852}

What politician, what party, or what partisan newspaper dare

oppose the _political_ system of Papal hierarchy? It

remains for the Protestant clergy of our evangelical

denominations to take up the cause of religious liberty. No one

will dare to speak out if they remain silent. The eyes of all

are toward them. They must take the lead in the conflict with

'the man of sin.' God has thrown the responsibility upon them.

They can, if they will, sway both the religious and political

destinies of our nation. Let no one talk about the danger or

the fanaticism of introducing politics into our pulpits. The

days of such cowardly conservatism are past. Let politicians as

well as Papists, at whose feet the former bow, be made to feel

that patriotism is a Christian virtue, and that its sacred fire

is kept alive and pure only in the breasts of those who swear

by an open Bible and a free conscience. If our Protestant

ministers will do their duty, the masses of our people will see

the danger which threatens us. They will unite their strength

in a successful issue with the powers of darkness, and our

politicians, seeing the strength of such a combination, will

withhold their sympathy and patronage from a system which, in

the garb of _religion_, aims its death-blow at the very

root of our civil liberty.

C."

The following is a specimen of the "lively and effective" style:

Catholicism.

A Reply To J. G. Parton's Article In The Atlantic Monthly.

This little treatise is respectfully presented to J. G. Parton

and all our Catholic brethren, by their brother and friend,

Charles W. Gilbert.

"And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying. _All power_

is given unto me in heaven and in earth."--Matthew xxviii. 18.

"This is the _stone_ which was set at naught of you

builders, which is become the head of the corner. Neither is

there _salvation_ in any other: for there is _none_

other name under heaven given among men, _whereby we must be

saved_."--Acts iv. 11, 12.

"It behooved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he

might be a merciful and faithful high-priest in things

pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the

people. For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he

is able to succor them that are tempted."--Hebrews ii. 17, 18.

Galesburg, June 22, 1868.

Mr. J. G. Parton: Dear Sir: I flatter myself you will excuse me

for the liberty I have taken in addressing you this letter. It

has been called for by reading a communication in _The

Atlantic Monthly_, in April last, respecting our Catholic

brethren.

I have neither time nor space to write half I want to, only to

mention a few points: And first, you say there is a difference

between Catholics and Protestants in the mode of praying; you

say a Protestant hides his face in his hands, but Catholics do

not, though they kneel, but the body is upright. Dear sir, do

you not know the reason? Our Catholic brethren worship images,

which God has forbidden. Turn to the second commandment: "Thou

shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of

anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth

beneath," etc. "Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor

serve them: for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting

the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third

and fourth generation of them that hate me; and showing mercy

unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.

Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain: for

the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in

vain. Remember the Sabbath-day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt

thou labor, and do all thy work," etc. Take your Bible and read

all the commandments.

Dear sir, can you find one of our Roman Catholic brethren that

keeps the commandments? Turn to the First Epistle general of

John, second chapter, fourth verse, "He that saith, I know him,

and keepeth not his commandments, is a _liar_, and the

truth is not in him."

You speak of their communion. Do they drink the _wine_ and

eat the bread, as Christ has commanded? No, no! A little wafer

is put on the tongue. Please turn to the seventeenth chapter of

Revelation, fourth verse.

The next topic is the Catholic Sabbath-school. Sir, what is a

Sabbath-school _without_ the _Bible_ to direct us how

to teach little children the way of life and salvation? Do you

not know that the priests do not allow the Bible to be read in

a Sabbath-school nor in a day-school? This is the reason they

will not send their children to the Protestant schools.

{853}

What said St. Paul to Timothy? "And that from a _child_

thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, which are _able_ to

make thee wise unto salvation through _faith_ which is in

Christ Jesus."--2 Timothy iii. 15, We read also, in the

sixteenth verse, "_All_ Scripture is given by inspiration

of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for

correction, for instruction in righteousness."

What said Jesus? "Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think

ye have _eternal life_: and they are they which testify of

me."--John v. 39.

You say the children in the Sabbath-school sing to the Virgin

Mary the following stanza, "O Mary! Mother," etc. Dear sir, who

is this Mother Mary? Let Christ answer. Turn to Matthew xii.

50: "For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in

heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." Read

also in Mark iii. 35; also Luke viii, 21.

You quote the prayer that the superintendent uttered, in Latin.

How _edifying_ that must have been to the children,

especially when he used the word _immaculate_ Host! Could

the children have understood that word, they would have

blushed.

You give us a glowing description of the different cathedrals,

and how they are occupied. Now, my dear sir, let me tell you,

the best prayer-meeting that I ever enjoyed was in a

_log-cabin_. Read St. John iv. 23, 24. Jesus told the

woman of Samaria that the hour had now come "when the

_true_ worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and

in truth; for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a

Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit

and in truth." Christ told the woman of Samaria she need not go

up into the mountains nor to Jerusalem to worship the Father,

but anywhere, in the log-cabin or in your house, if you worship

God in spirit.

The next topic is, you say: "Our Catholic brethren are very

candid, and are as truly and entirely convinced of the truth of

their religion as any Protestant."

I am now almost seventy-three years of age, and have labored

among our Catholic brethren more than forty years. I have seen

many of them _happily converted, born again_; as Christ

told Nicodemus, told him repeatedly, "Except a man be born

again, he could not enter heaven."--John iii. Yes, I have seen

them _put off_ the old man with all his deeds and put on

Christ; yes, his very _countenance_ was changed; yes, he

will not visit the Dutch gardens or saloons on the Sabbath.

Said a _converted_ Roman Catholic lady to me, the other

day: "I have _perfect peace_ now. When I belonged to the

Roman Catholic Church, I was in constant misery."

Said a converted Catholic man, aged sixty-six years: "I never

took any comfort before." I asked him if he was ready to die.

He said, "_Yes_." I asked him how he knew. Putting his

hand on his breast, he said, "_Spirit tell me so_." So

Christ says his Spirit shall enlighten every man that cometh

into the world.

In all my conversation with our Catholic brethren, I have never

found the first one that could say with St. Paul: "I long to be

absent from the body that I might be present with the Lord,

that I might be clothed upon with another body like unto his."

Our Catholic brethren are taught that there is a

_purgatory_. I wonder if St. Paul had to go there first. I

have often asked our Catholic brethren where the

_penitent_ thief went to, that was crucified with Christ,

when Christ said to him, "To-day shalt thou be with me in

paradise."

If there is a purgatory where we have to go to atone for our

sins, Christ must have suffered in vain, though he cried on the

cross, "It is finished."

I have seen Catholics die in despair. I had one in my employ as

a sailor on the North River. He caught a severe cold; it ran

him into a quick consumption. I asked him if he would like to

have me read the Bible to him. He said, No; he said the priest

had forbidden him to read the Bible or hear it read. As he was

failing very fast, I went in again and asked him if he wished

me to read to him in the Bible. He said, No, but wished I would

go and call the priest. I did so, and after the priest went

away, I went into his room and asked him if he was happy. He

answered, No, and cried bitterly, and said, "_I am going to

hell! I am going to hell!_" and died in a few minutes.

You next speak of young men that were studying for the

ministry; you say they study Latin, Greek, and theology. Dear

sir, what is theology? If I understand it, it is a Science of

God. How can they study theology without the Bible, the word of

God? They are not allowed the Bible, so a converted Roman

Catholic priest published to the world, at least he said that

there was not more than _one_ in twenty that ever saw a

Bible.

You say the Catholic Church is getting very _rich_, I do

not doubt it. Oh! how I pity the poor Catholic brethren. See

how they _toil_ and _work_ to support the priest and

the nunneries, and to _build_ meeting-houses to please the

eye and charm the weak minded. And what do they get _for all

this_? Let echo answer. Look at our poor-houses. Every

winter thousands have to go to our poor-houses to be taken care

of by our Protestant churches. Here in our city many would have

perished this last winter, had not our poor-master fed them.

{854}

You next give us a history of a wonderful miracle that was

performed in Washington in 1824. Dear sir, do you think any

Protestant with one eye, and that half-open, can be made to

believe _such nonsense_? If _you_ wish to see

miracles wrought in the nineteenth century, just give the

_Bible_ to our Catholic brethren, then you may see greater

_miracles performed_ than you speak of; for to see a man

that is _dead in sin_ changed to a _spiritual_ man,

made _alive_ in Christ, is a miracle.

Our Catholic brethren are taught that their church was the

_first church_. Let me inform you that there was no Roman

Catholic church on the earth for three hundred years after the

death of the apostles. Permit me to quote a few passages from

the word of God. 2 Thessalonians ii. 3, 4: "Let no man deceive

you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there

come a _falling away first_, and that man of sin be

revealed, the son of perdition; who opposeth and exalteth

himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so

that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, showing himself

that he is God." Could an angel from heaven portray the

character of the pope in any plainer language?

I Timothy iv. 1-5: "Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in

the _latter_ times some shall depart from the faith,

giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils;

speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with

a hot iron; forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain

_from meats_, which God hath created to be received with

thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth. For

every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it

be received with thanksgiving: for it is sanctified by the word

of God and prayer."

Paul speaks of visiting the churches; that is to say, little

bands of Christians. We read in the Acts of the Apostles xv. 3:

"And being brought on our way by the church;" that is to say, a

few Christians. Read, also, xvi. 5: "Likewise _greet_ the

church that is in their house," etc.

You will now turn to Revelation xiii. 16-18: "And he causeth

all, both small and great, rich and poor, _free_ and

_bond_, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their

foreheads." Now, every true Catholic receives the sign of the

cross in his forehead every Ash-Wednesday; every priest, when

he is ordained for the ministry, receives the mark of the cross

in his right hand.

A converted Roman Catholic priest, going through one of the

streets in a Southern city, picked up the thirteenth chapter of

Revelation, and, reading it, he was convinced that he was one

of those that had received the mark in his right hand, and was

led by the _Spirit_ to see his error and was

_happily_ converted, and became a Baptist minister.

Give the Bible to all our Roman Catholic priests and brethren

in America, and in less than _five_ years there would not

be a Roman Catholic church in existence. Rev. Mr. Hyacinthe, a

Roman Catholic priest, in Paris, France, has come out in

_favor_ of reading the Bible. He is now preaching in the

Notre Dame cathedral to audiences of _three thousand_. He

presses upon the people, in the most eloquent words, the study

of the Bible.

The news from Italy is very interesting. Thousands of our

Catholic brethren are inquiring and receiving the Bible, that

they may learn the way to Christ. In less than five years there

cannot be found a Roman Catholic in all that vast kingdom,

except in Rome, where the Catholic religion has to be protected

by an army. That is a curious religion that has to be protected

by the SWORD. Shame! shame!

That great city is soon to be destroyed, according to God's

word. See Revelation xiv. 20: "And the wine-press was trodden

without the city, and blood came out of the wine-press, even

unto the horses' bridles, by the space of a thousand and six

hundred furlongs. "You are aware, I suppose, that the pope

claims two hundred miles square around Rome. The above number

of furlongs make just that number of miles. Let Bonaparte send

ALL his armies to Rome, and he could not _prevent this

prophecy from being_ fulfilled when the time comes.

Dear sir, you have a great deal to say about our Catholic

brethren exercising _greet_ faith. Paul says, "Faith

without works is dead." What are the works that God requires?

Let me tell you. It is not only to clothe the naked and feed

the hungry; but it is to go out into the _highways and

hedges_, and invite the sinner, the wayward--yes, the poor

drunkard--to become _reconciled_ to God; to put off the

_old_ man with all his deeds, and put on the new man which

is after Christ. Did you ever learn of one of our Catholic

brethren doing the like?

You speak of children being _confirmed_. What does that

mean? Why, made _Christians_. Dear sir, who can

_change_ the heart of a child or a man? No one but God.

What saith the Bible, speaking of those that were Christ's?

"Which were _born_, not of _blood_, nor of the will

of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God."--John i. 13.

{855}

You tell us that in this easy and pleasant way our Catholic

brethren join the church. Dear sir, does joining a church make

a man Christ-like? Christ says: "If ye have my spirit, ye are

mine; if ye have not my spirit, ye are none of mine."--Romans

viii. 9. Read the whole chapter; it contains the whole plan of

salvation.

Our Catholic brethren are taught that the Virgin Mary was

_born_ immaculate! What blasphemy! And also that the

church is _infallible_! When Christ asked Peter and the

disciples, "Whom say ye that I am?" Peter answered and said,

"Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." Upon this

acknowledgment or confession of Peter, that Christ was the son

of the living God, Christ said, "I will _build my

church_"--not upon Peter, as the pope claims.

You say our Catholic brethren are not ashamed to be found

praying. Please turn to the sixth chapter of Matthew, and read

the sixth verse, which is as follows: "But thou, when thou

prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy

door, pray to thy Father which is in _secret_; and thy

Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."

You say the superintendent of the Catholic Sabbath-school you

visited told you that he had visited many of the Protestant

Sabbath-schools and had copied after them. I wonder where he

found a Protestant Sabbath-school _without the Bible_!

You say that the Catholics expect to rule in this country, and

that all Protestant children will be in their Sabbath-schools.

Let me say, "Let God be true, but every man a liar."--Romans

iii. 4. St. Paul has prophesied that the time shall soon come

when the Sword of the Spirit SHALL destroy the _Man of

Sin_.

There are thousands of our Catholic brethren in America that

are sick of the Catholic religion, and will soon leave it. When

I was engaged in teaching a Sabbath-school of Catholic

children, a father and mother called on me and wanted to put

their children in my school. I said, "Your priest will not

allow you to do so." They said they did not care anything about

their priest; they had been brought up in _ignorance_;

they did not want their children brought up so.

You cannot tell us of a Sabbath-school in all Italy, or in any

other country where the Roman Catholics rule, except those that

have been established by Protestants.

You tell us about Roman Catholic benevolent societies. Where,

oh! where is there an asylum for the blind and deaf and dumb,

that they may learn to read the word of God, and get a

knowledge of our Saviour Christ Jesus, and learn the way to

heaven? You cannot show one in any Catholic country.

Permit me to give you another graphic picture from the Bible,

giving a picture of the priests' dresses. Please turn to

Revelation xvii. 4, 5; "And the woman was arrayed in purple and

scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and

pearls, having a _golden_ cup in her hand," etc.

Now, all this I have seen in the great cathedral in Montreal. I

have seen our Catholic priests and brethren _bowing down_

to graven images for several minutes.

Mr. J. G. Parton, dear sir, I sincerely pray that you will,

after reading this communication, repent, (not do penance,) and

turn to the Lord, and not be under the necessity of calling

upon the rocks and mountains to fall on you and hide you from

the face of the Lamb. (Revelation vi. 16.) Do read, also, verse

17: "For the great day of his _wrath_ is come; and who

shall be able to stand?" Do read this communication carefully,

and pray that it may be blessed to your salvation.

No more at present, and I remain your friend in Christ,

Charles W. Gilbert.

---------

{856}

New Publications.

The Vickers and Purcell Controversy.

Respectfully presented to all the lovers of truth.

By John B. Purcell, Archbishop of Cincinnati,

Printed for the benefit of Mt. St. Mary's

Seminary of the West. Benziger Brothers,

Printers to the Holy Apostolic See,

Cincinnati and New York. 1868.

The gentleman calling himself the Rev. Thomas Vickers, Minister

of the First Congregational Society of Cincinnati, is a living

contradiction in terms. According to the statement in the volume

before us, he believes in no personal God, declares "the Christ"

to be "a theological fiction," and the Bible "a crutch." What

there is "reverend" about Mr. Vickers, what sense there is in his

claiming the title of minister, or what appropriateness in his

professing to belong to a Congregational Society, we are at a

loss to divine. What greater absurdity of nomenclature can there

be, than calling a pantheistic lecturer against Christianity and

Theism by the name of a Congregational minister? Of what use is a

church, or a minister, on his principles, or, rather, denial of

principles? Nevertheless, in this very absurd and unnecessary

character of minister, Mr. Vickers appeared at the laying of the

corner-stone of a new temple of German infidelity, denominated,

with a ludicrous disregard of common sense, St. John's Church,

and made a speech, which occasioned the controversy contained in

the little volume under notice. In this speech, Mr. Vickers

welcomed and blessed the undertaking of the society of German

infidels calling themselves St. John's Church, in the name of the

Anglo-American portion of the population of Cincinnati. At the

same time, he gave utterance to the most contemptuous scorn of

everything which the professedly Christian part of that

population holds as sacred and divine in religion. This was, to

say the least of it, a piece of cool impertinence on the part of

the young gentleman in question. Mr. Vickers, we believe, passed

a few years in Germany, studying what he calls "science;" and he

appears to have returned with a strong impression on his own mind

that he is destined to enlighten the benighted believers in the

Christian revelation in Cincinnati with the rays of this German

luminary. He is not the first to engage in this experiment. It

has been tried before, and we recommend to the attention of the

illuminati of Cincinnati the following description of its result,

from the pen of Dr. Hedge, of Harvard University. It is extracted

from an article in the _Christian Examiner:_

"Some thirty years ago, a club was formed of young men, mostly

preachers of the Unitarian connection, with a sprinkling of

elect ladies--all fired with the hope of a new era in

philosophy and religion, which seemed to them about to dawn

upon the world. There was something in the air--a boding of

some great revolution--some new avatar of the Spirit, at whose

birth these expectants were called to assist

'Of old things, all are over old:

Of old things, none are good enough:

We'll show that we can help to frame

A world of other stuff.'

"For myself, though I hugely enjoyed the sessions, and shared

many of the ideas which ruled the conclave, and the ferment

they engendered, I had no belief in ecclesiastical revolutions

to be accomplished with set purpose; and I seemed to discern a

power and meaning in the old, which the more impassioned would

not allow. I had even then made up my mind, that the method of

revolution in theology, is not discussion, but development. My

historical conscience, then as since, balanced my neology, and

kept me ecclesiastically conservative, though intellectually

radical. There haunted me that verse in Goethe's bright song,

'The General Confession,' as applicable to ecclesiastical

incendiarism as it is to political:

'Came a man would fain renew me,

Made a botch and missed his shot.

Shoulder shrugging, prospects gloomy:

He was called a patriot.

'And I cursed the senseless drizzle,

Kept my proper goal in view:

Blockhead! when it burns, let sizzle;

When all's burned, then build anew.'

Others judged differently; they saw in every case of dissent,

and in every new dissentient, the harbinger of the New

Jerusalem. 'The present church rattles ominously,' they said;

'it must vanish presently, and we shall have a real one.' There

have been some vanishings since then.

{857}

Ah me! how much has vanished! Of that goodly company, what

heroes and heroines have vanished from the earth! Thrones have

toppled, dynasties have crumbled, institutions that seemed

fast-rooted in the everlasting hills have withered away. But

the church that was present then, and was judged moribund by

transcendental zeal, and rattled so ominously in transcendental

ears, is present still.

"It was finally resolved to start a journal that should

represent the ideas which had mainly influenced the association

already tending to dissolution. How to procure the requisite

funds was a question of some difficulty, seeing how hardly

philosophic and commercial speculation conspire. An appeal was

made. Would Mammon have the goodness to aid an enterprise whose

spirit rebuked his methods and imperilled his assets? The

prudent God disclaimed the imputed verdure; and the organ of

American Transcendentalism, with no pecuniary basis, committed

to the chance and gratuitous efforts and editing of friends, if

intellectually and spiritually prosperous, had no statistical

success. It struggled, through four years, with all the

difficulties of eleemosynary journalism; and then,

significantly enough, with a word concerning the 'Millennial

Church,' sighed its last breath, and gave up the ghost. I prize

the four volumes among the choicest treasures of my library.

They contain some of Emerson's, of Theodore Parker's, of

Margaret Fuller's, of Thoreau's best things; not to speak of

writers less absolute and less famous.

"Meanwhile the association, if so it could be termed, had

gradually dissolved. Some of the members turned papists--I

should say, sought refuge in the bosom of the Catholic Church.

A few of the preachers pursued their calling, and perhaps have

contributed somewhat to liberalize and enlarge the theology of

their day. Some have slipped their moorings on this bank and

shoal of time. One sank beneath the wave, whose queenly soul

had no peer among the women of this land. Of one

'A strange and distant mould

Wraps the mortal relics cold.'

Finally, a fragment of this strangely compounded body lodged in

a neighboring town, and became the nucleus of an agricultural

enterprise in which the harvest truly was _not_ plenteous,

and the competent laborers few; and of which, the root being

rottenness, the blossoms soon went up as dust."

Mr. Vickers may thank the Archbishop of Cincinnati for having

given his very boyish lucubrations a little momentary notoriety,

which they never could have acquired by their own merit. They are

crude, ill-mannered, replete with commonplace, effete, and

senseless vituperations of all that is venerable in Catholicity

and Christianity, and betray an ignorance of the subjects treated

of which makes them unworthy of any serious attention. The point

which the discussion chiefly turns upon is "freedom of thought."

If Mr. Vickers is a disciple of the German pantheistic school, as

we suppose him to be, he is not in a condition to maintain that

there is any such thing as thought or freedom. We intend to give

abundant proof of this assertion, in a series of articles, to be

published in our Magazine, on Pantheism, in which we shall show,

to the satisfaction of any person capable of metaphysical

reasoning, that pantheism destroys the possibility of thought, in

the true sense of the word, as the intellection of real,

objective truth. Pantheism destroys, also, all possibility of

freedom by reducing all phenomena to a fatal, invincible

necessity. A pantheist is bound to accept all the persecutions of

the middle ages, all the definitions of the church, and the

encyclical of the pope, as manifestations of God. Our godlike

friends are too much like the wife of the Connecticut corporal,

who replied to the query of her innocent offspring, "O ma! are we

all corporals now?" with the haughty rejoinder, "No, indeed! only

_your pa and I_." Mr. Vickers and the members of the

free-thinking _coterie_ are not the only participators in

the universal deity. If Mr. Vickers's brilliant exposition of the

doctrine of the immaculate conception was a divine inspiration,

Archbishop Purcell was equally moved by divine inspiration to the

paternal castigation which he administers to his young and

somewhat forward fellow-celestial. In fact, Mr. Vickers, the

archbishop, the book containing their controversy, _The

Catholic World_, ourselves, our readers, St. Thomas,

Torquemada, Luther, Heidelberg University, and the Jesuits, are

all one thing, or one nothing; a _Seyn_, or a _Werden_,

or a _Nichtseyn_; all bubbles on the fathomless ocean of

infinite--nonsense.

{858}

It is a wonder that Mr. Vickers lays so much to heart, and makes

such a serious business out of that which has no reality. A

nephew of the great German philosopher, Hegel, who was also a

favorite pupil of Feuerbach, and who is now a devout Catholic,

told us, some time ago, that he asked Feuerbach why philosophy

was making no progress, but seemed to be at a stand-still. The

latter replied, that they had already proved by philosophy the

nothingness of everything, and it was, therefore, useless to push

philosophy any further, adding, that it was time to go back to

common sense. Such is the end of that lawless, intellectual

activity which Mr. Vickers calls "free thought." It is like a

head of steam that bursts its boiler, and is then dispersed in

the circumambient atmosphere.

------

Memoirs and Letters of Jennie C. White--Del Bal.

By her mother, Rhoda E. White,

1 vol. royal 8vo, pp. 363. Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1868.

We must presage our notice of this interesting book, by saying we

have a dislike to memoirs written by fond and partial friends.

Lives of the saints we love to read, but our digestion was early

impaired by the memoirs of good children (who all died young)

with which we were fed for Sunday food, and we have latterly been

in the bad habit of turning away from a book labelled, _Memoirs

of_, etc.

However, we read Jennie's life with interest; and it is a

beautiful story, giving to the reader a delightful insight into a

truly Catholic family, where the breath of piety permeates the

daily walk of every member, mingling with and heightening the

light-hearted pleasures peculiar to the seasons of childhood and

youth. The tale of her courtship and marriage is told with a

sweet and winning grace, which charms us by its naturalness.

Quite unlike the prevailing spirit and sentiment of "Young

America" is the history of the prompt obedience to the mandate of

parental authority, in giving up their engagement. The accepted

lover, a resident of Santiago, New Granada, had promised his aged

father not to forsake his own country, and Jennie's father could

not give his consent to the taking of his first-born to that

far-off foreign land. After a struggle, they parted with aching

hearts, released from their engagement; but the influence of the

true woman in the mother reunited that broken bond.

Contrary to the fate of many American girls who go to foreign

homes, Jennie's marriage was an exceedingly happy one. The secret

is very plain--they were both earnest Catholics. Oneness in

faith, and earnest-heartedness in that faith, are the best

securities for happiness in married life. The sight of this happy

young creature, leaving so fond a circle of friends, and such a

home as Jennie left behind in New York, to go to a comparatively

unknown land--a country distracted by revolutions, with churches

closed and priests exiled--gives us a glowing picture of the

self-sacrificing spirit of true love. Her journeys by land and by

sea, before she reached her destination, were perilous indeed;

and we could not but ask, Yankee-like, why such a refined and

cultivated and intelligent people as those among whom her lot was

cast should never have provided some more comfortable way of

reaching their country. She was the first American lady there,

and attracted much attention and admiration by her brave, active

spirit, as well as by her large Catholic heart. Her letters to

her home friends are lovely from their childlike simplicity and

truthfulness; giving us glimpses of many homesick heartaches,

even when she was decking herself for the dance. Sometimes there

appears a little excess in her efforts to be gay, when she

writes, "I danced every piece but one till five in the morning."

Mrs. Del Bal went to New Granada at a time when the so-called

"Liberals," under Mosquera, were in the ascendant, proclaiming a

pretended religious liberty, of which some of the first acts were

the disbanding of all religious communities, turning the sisters

upon the world, shutting up the churches, banishing the priests,

unless they took an oath whereby they would cease to be

Catholics; in fact, Mosquera made himself pope. Professing to

establish a government in which there should be no connection

between church and state, the government framed this article for

the twenty-third of their Constitution:

{859}

"In order to sustain the national sovereignty and to maintain

public peace and security, the national government, and in some

cases the state government, shall exercise the right of supreme

inspection over all religious worships, as the law shall

determine."

This is a law of liberty very like those the English Catholics

enjoyed under Queen Elizabeth.

Mrs. Del Bal exerted herself to give the press at the North the

true state of the case with regard to this matter, since the

public papers have loudly lauded Mosquera and his government. How

far she succeeded in influencing minds that swallow eagerly

anything called "liberal," we are not told. Our friend Jennie was

loyal to her heart's core, and never ceased to call herself and

her husband American citizens; and her thorough celebration of

the "glorious Fourth" was a complete success. American thrift and

industry carried her through what would have been impossible to a

New Granadian.

But it is Jennie's almost superhuman efforts to revive the faith

in the land of her adoption which excite our wonder and

admiration, even more than the tender breathings of her woman's

heart, separated for ever from the earliest loved. She had

everything to struggle against in her work; "deplorable ignorance

among the lower classes, and the falling away from faith and duty

in the educated;" and this in a land once hallowed by the daily

sacrifice. Well might she call the country "God forsaken," when

those who should have cared for the sheep became themselves

grievous wolves devouring God's heritage. The secret of the

country's desolation we may read in this sentence:

"It is a well-known fact to Protestant travellers and a wound

in the heart of the Catholic world, that the Catholic

priesthood in this part of the world and in the West India

Islands, scandalize the faithful. Why are they permitted to

remain in the church? is asked often by Protestant and

Catholic. Because they are sustained by a government which will

not acknowledge papal authority; and if the archbishop were to

remove them to-morrow, if need be, they would be reinstated by

the bayonet. Hence these scandals."

But we turn from this sad picture to our young friend. Working

with all the ardor of a soul given to God, filled with the love

of Christ, her prayers and labors brought forth abundant and

immediate fruits; but not till that day when the Great Master

shall make up his jewels will it be known how many were brought

back to faith and duty by her efforts. The missionary spirit

pervaded all her life, and we may believe that love for souls, in

part, led her to give her consent to so sad and final a parting

from her early home; for she laid her plans for these poor,

neglected people before she left her father's roof. She found

some pious, devoted women in Santiago, (where are they not

found?) and she gave them work to do. Everything prospered in her

hands: Sunday-schools, altar societies, associations of the

Sacred Heart; and at last, through her instrumentality, the laws

were repealed that closed the churches, the _Te Deum_ was

sung, the sanctuary lamp was relighted, and 'la nina Jennie' was

acknowledged, by the grateful people, as a public blessing God

sent.

It is extremely touching to mark how, amid the constant terror of

revolution, the wearing care of churches, hospitals,

Sunday-schools, altar societies, plantations, and housekeeping,

with a retinue of easy-going, lazy servants, she turns to

entertain a dear friend with tales of her beloved parents,

recalling the happy and united life at home, and then runs to

console these absent ones by telling them, in her letters, with

the artlessness of a child, that her husband must be good, since

she is so happy with him, away from all she loved before! Only

four years was she permitted to cheer the heart of her fond

husband--only four years to lead the life of a devoted missionary

in that desolate vineyard. The snapping of the chain by death

that bound that household; the departure of her noble father--we

may well believe-- coming upon a heart filled with care for the

souls about her, lying in worse than heathen darkness, hastened

her own death.

{860}

As we close the volume, we can not mourn for her nor for her dear

family; it is a blessed privilege to have such a friend in

heaven.

"Life is only bright when it proceedeth

Toward a truer, deeper life above:

Human love is sweetest when it leadeth

To a more divine and perfect love."

No, we mourn for Santiago, and pray our dear Lord to

compassionate a country so piteously torn by revolutions, and

abandoned by those who should be first to hear the cry that comes

over the land to all Catholics, "Send us priests who have an

apostolic spirit, good judgment, and tact!"

The publisher's portion of the work is well done. It is well

printed on fine paper, and the binding is in keeping with the

rest of the book. It is, in fact, the handsomest book Mr. Donahoe

ever published, and we are glad to see so great an improvement in

his book-making.

------

The Woman Blessed by all Generations; or,

Mary the Object of Veneration, Confidence, and

Imitation to all Christians.

By the Rev. Raphael Melia, D.D.

London: Longmans, Green & Co. 1868.

For sale at The Catholic Publication House, New York.

Dr. Melia is an Italian priest, residing in London; a man of

solid learning, great zeal for the conversion of Protestants, and

possessing a competent knowledge of the English language. His

work is a comprehensive treatise on the dignity and office of the

Blessed Virgin, and the reasons for the veneration and invocation

of Mary practised in the church; to which is added a devotional

treatise on the imitation of her virtues. The author goes

thoroughly into the arguments from Scripture, tradition, reason,

theology, and antiquities. His style is lively, popular, and

somewhat diffuse, so that his learning is brought to the level of

the understanding of ordinary readers, and his arguments made

plain by ample and minute explanations. The book is also

illustrated by _fac-similes_ from ancient works of art. It

is a treasury of knowledge on the charming and delightful subject

of which it treats, and both Catholics and Protestants who wish

to gain thorough, solid information respecting the Catholic

devotion to Mary, with ease and pleasure to themselves, will find

this book to be the very one they are in need of. The author is

entitled to the thanks of all English-speaking Catholics for this

labor of love, and we trust that his excellent work may be the

means of increasing and diffusing, both in England and America,

that solid and fervent devotion to the Blessed Mother of God

which is both the poetry and an integral part of the practical

piety of our religion.

------

We have just received from Messrs. Murphy & Co., Baltimore,

_The Acts and Decrees of the Second Plenary Council of

Baltimore_. _The Catholic World_, for August, contained

an elaborate article on this work, written from an advance copy

kindly furnished by Mr. Murphy. It is unnecessary to say anything

more with regard to its contents, except to reiterate what was

then said as to its external appearance. It is a handsome volume,

finely printed on good paper, and bound in various styles and in

the best manner known to the art of binding, and is a credit to

the publisher. It is for sale at the Catholic Publication House,

New York.

------------------------------