As regards cholera, the proof is even more striking than that lately

furnished in the case of London by the great and almost exclusive ravages

of that disease in the eastern districts.

{425}

Mortality by cholera seems ordinarily, as M. Vacher tells us, to follow the

laws of general mortality, that is, it prevails most in those districts

which are ordinarily the most unhealthy. But the one element of good or bad

water supply seems to be enough to counterbalance the influence of the

other causes which affect the comparative mortality of districts. For

instance, difference of elevation is supposed to be one of these causes.

Mr. Farre tells us that the mortality of a district is in inverse

proportion to the elevation: that in nineteen high districts the proportion

of deaths by cholera was as 33 to 10,000; in the same number of low

districts, as 100 to 10,000. This law, however, is not enough, nor is it

free from exception. Sometimes places loftily situated are attacked and

lower places are spared. The elevation of Montmartre is almost equal to

that of Belleville; but Montmartre had last year 3.6 cholera cases to 1000,

Belleville only 1.1. Again, a rich quarter has ordinarily immense

advantages over a poor quarter. The mean mortality by cholera in the poorer

_arrondissements_ of Paris was almost three times as great as that in

the rich _arrondissements_. The reason is obvious: the poor work hard,

have insufficient food, and are crowded together in discomfort and want;

the rich are well fed, not overworked, well and healthily housed. Yet there

was one _arrondissement_ of Paris, and that one of the very poorest,

which in the three first visitations of cholera (1832, 1849, 1854) had

actually the lowest proportion of deaths by cholera of all these districts.

In 1865, it had barely more deaths than the very richest of all, that of

the Opéra, which headed the list on that occasion as the most lightly

visited. This _arrondissement_ was Belleville. Another cause of

comparatively greater mortality is density of population; but here again we

are met by the fact that this fortunate Belleville is very densely

populated. The nature of the soil is another. M. Vacher mentions a number

of departments in the centre of France which have never yet been attacked

by cholera. They are those which consist of a huge granitic mass, like an

island in the midst of the more recent formations around them.

Nevertheless, though this will explain much, and though Belleville has an

advantage in this respect over many of the _arrondissements_ of Paris,

still it has the same geological formation as Montmartre, which had three

times as many deaths (in proportion) from cholera. In short, there is no

way left of accounting for its comparative exemption, except that which we

have already mentioned, the superior character of the water consumed by its

inhabitants. The argument certainly seems as complete as it can possibly

be, and we know that it has been strongly confirmed by our own late

experience. Let us hope that no time may be lost in acting on the lesson

which we have received.

We pass over some interesting statements on the meteorological phenomena

which were observed during the prevalence of the cholera last year in

Paris. [Footnote 140]

[Footnote 140: M. Vacher here tells a story of his endeavor to make

some ozonometrical observations in the Paris hospitals, which were

prohibited by the Directeur de l'Assistance publique--an officer of

whom M. Vacher is continually complaining on the ground that they would

frighten the patients. He remarks that on one occasion when travelling

in the pontifical states, some gendarmes found in his possession a

psychrometer and an aneroid barometer, and thought they were weapons of

destruction. He would have been arrested but for M. Matteucci, then

Director of Police. He complains bitterly of the comparative want of

enlightenment in the "administration" of his own country. But no

hospital would have allowed his experiments.]

M. Vacher rather contradicts current opinion by some remarks he has made as

to the relation of cholera to other diseases. Sydenham has remarked that

when several epidemic diseases are rife during the same season, one of them

usually absorbs to itself, as it were, the bulk of the mortality,

diminishing the influence of the rest even below the ordinary level. Thus

in the year of the great plague in London, just two centuries ago, the

smallpox was fatal to only thirty-eight persons, its average being about

eleven hundred.

{426}

However, the general fact is now questioned. In October last, though

4653 persons were carried off by cholera, the mortality by other diseases

in Paris was greater than in any other month of the year. Yet October is

usually one of the most healthy of all the months; and the epidemic

maladies which ordinarily rage during the autumn--typhoid fever, small-pox,

diphtheria, croup, whooping-cough, erysipelas, and puerperal fever--were

prevalent to an extraordinary degree. It is curious also that there was an

unusual number of children born dead.

The most destructive of all ordinary complaints is undoubtedly consumption.

At Vienna it actually causes 25 per cent of the deaths, at Paris 16 per

cent, at London nearly 12 per cent, at New York 14 per cent. It is more

frequent in women than men; it is twice as destructive in poor quarters as

in rich quarters; the age which suffers most from it is between 25 and 40.

The difference between the sexes M. Vacher attributes to the more confined

and retired life led by women. If observations in Paris are to be taken as

enough to furnish a general conclusion, it would appear that more

consumptive patients die in the spring than in the autumn. Here again a

common opinion is overthrown. The most destructive months are March, April,

and May: the least destructive are September, October, and November. We

believe that in this country the fewest consumptive patients die in winter,

and the most in summer. M. Vacher also attacks the notion that maritime

climates are the best for consumptive cases. New York is situated on the

sea, but it loses as many by consumption as London; and in the maritime

counties of Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, Dorset, and Devonshire, the deaths by

consumption are as 1 in 7 of the whole; while in the Midland counties of

Warwickshire, Buckinghamshire, Worcestershire, and Oxfordshire, they are as

1 in 9. "Les phthisiques qu'on envoie à Nice et à Cannes, ou même sur les

bords du Nil, sur la foi d'un passage de Celse, y meurent comme ceux qui

restent sous le ciel natal. Ceux-la, seuls en reviennent guéris, chez qui

le mal n'était pas sans ressources et qui auraient guéri partout ailleurs,"

(p. 129.) We must remember, however, that if such patients are sent to the

seaside, and die there, they raise the death-rate there unfairly. M. Vacher

insists that the guiding principle in selecting a place for the residence

of a consumptive patient should be the absence of great variations in the

temperature rather than the actual number of deaths by the disease.

Consumption, he says, is unknown in Iceland; but that is not a reason for

sending a consumptive patient to that island. As to New York, we have

already quoted his observation as to the variableness of the temperature

there, notwithstanding its maritime position.

Although we have already stated the results of a general comparison of the

mortality in the four capitals--results very favorable to the salubrity of

London--it may be interesting to our readers to learn the state of the case

with regard to particular classes of disease. In most cases, of course, we

have the list in actual numbers: our comparative immunity is only evident

when the great excess of our population is considered. In zymotic diseases

we have little more than a majority of a thousand over Paris; but then we

must remember that in the year of which M. Vacher speaks between 5000 and

6000 persons in Paris died of cholera. This, therefore, would seem to be

one of the classes of disease as to which we are really worst off. As to

constitutional diseases, consumption, cancer, scrofula, gout, rheumatism,

and others, Paris exceeds us in proportion; and it is the same with

diseases of the nervous system. From diseases of the heart we lose between

two and three times as many as the Parisians; this proportion, therefore,

is greatly against us. On the other hand, in diseases of the digestive

organs, Paris, notwithstanding its inferior population, exceeded London by

a hundred deaths in the last year.

{427}

London, however, regains a sad preeminence when we come to diseases of the

respiratory organs, asthma, bronchitis, influenza, and the like: Paris

losing between 7000 and 8000 a year against our 12,500. It is in the

commoner diseases that the worst features of London mortality in 1865 were

found. Typhoid was nearly three times as fatal last year in London as in

Paris; measles four times as fatal; scarlatina not far short of twenty

times; whooping-cough more than thirteen times. As the population of London

is to that of Paris as five to three, it is clear to how great an extent

the balance was against us. It was probably an accident. These diseases

prevail very generally for a time, and then retire: and we have lately been

visited by a period of their prevalence.

We have hitherto spoken only of diseases; but M. Vacher's researches extend

to the comparative frequency of deaths of other kinds. In suicides, New

York has the best account to give, Paris the worst. To speak roughly,

London has twice as many suicides as New York, Vienna twice as many as

London, Paris more than twice as many as Vienna--in comparison, that is,

with the total number of deaths of all kinds. The _actual_ numbers

stand thus: Paris 716, London 267, Vienna 813, New York 36. For the last

nine years there has been little change in the number in London; in New

York it has diminished, in Paris it has increased, having more than doubled

itself since 1839. The two years, 1848 and 1830, which were marked by

revolutionary movements, were also marked by a diminution in the number of

suicides. The relative proportion of suicides increases with age; that is,

it is four times as frequent with people above 70 as with people between 20

and 30. Paris has for a long time been noted as a city in which there were

more suicides than any other. More than eighty years ago, Mercier noted

this, and attributed it to the rage for speculation. Other writers have

since attempted to find a reason for it in the prevalence of democratic

ideas. We suppose that both democratic ideas and speculation are not

unknown in New York, yet that city (and indeed the State itself) is

remarkably free from suicides, and a great number of those that occur are

said to be of Europeans.

But if Paris bears the palm in self-slaughter, no city can vie with London

in slaughter of another kind. Violent deaths are nearly three times as

frequent in London as in Paris. As many as 2241 persons were slain in

London last year; as many, that is, as would be enough for the number of

the killed in a sanguinary battle: 328 were burnt, 405 were suffocated,

(this probably includes children overlaid by their mothers,) 40 were

poisoned, 767 disposed of by "fractures and contusions," 232 were killed by

carriage accidents; leaving 469 to be laid to the account of other

accidents. In the other three capitals the proportion of deaths by

accidents to the whole number of deaths ranges from under one per cent to

under two per cent; in London it is just three per cent. Finally, London

had 132 murders to give an account of in 1865, Paris had 10, and New York

only 5.

We are sorry that the last fact which we glean from M. Vacher's interesting

tables must be one rather disparaging to the great Transatlantic city which

we have last named. Disparaging, that is, positively rather than

comparatively; and we fear that, if the statistics which we are now to

quote do not reveal a terrible state of things in London also, it is

because on this head our admirable system of registration has given M.

Vacher no assistance at all. "Quant à la ville de Londres," he says, "il

m'a été impossible d'arriver à connaitre le chiffre de ses _mort-nés_.

Le Bulletin des Naissances et des Morts ne donne d'ailleurs aucun

renseignement à ce sujet." He expresses his opinion that, if the numbers

were given, London would have quite as bad a tale to tell as Paris or New

York. But the figures in these cities are sufficiently startling.

{428}

In Paris the children "born dead" are to the whole number of deaths as one

to ten; in New York as one to fifteen; in Vienna they are as one to

twenty-three. Twenty years ago, the Préfet of the Seine addressed a

circular to the _maires_ of Paris, in which he drew their attention to

the great number of these children, and pointed out that it was natural to

conclude that their deaths were too often the result of crime. In New York

similar complaints have been made, and we are significantly told that full

reports cannot be obtained on the subject. As to London, we find a large

number of deaths, 1400 or 1500 a year, set down to "premature birth and

debility." We fear it would be quite impossible to give an account of the

number of births which are _prevented_--contrary to the laws of God

and man alike. We need hardly do more than allude to the frightful increase

of infanticide, on which Dr. Lankester has lately spoken so strongly. Mr.

Humble's Essay on the subject in Mr. Orby Shipley's volume contains some

very startling statistics. There are as many as 12,000 women in London to

whom this crime may be imputed. "In other words," says Mr. Humble, "one in

every thirty women (I presume, between fifteen and forty-five) is a

murderess." We must hope that there is exaggeration about this; but if it

were one in every thirty thousand, it would be bad enough--a state of

things calling down the judgments of heaven on the land.

The Anglican writer to whom we have just alluded speaks with some apparent

prejudice against the most obvious remedy for infanticide--the

establishment of foundling hospitals, perfectly free. There may be some

objections to these institutions, but we must confess that, in the face of

the facts on which we are commenting, they seem to us rather like arguments

against life-boats because they may encourage oversecurity in exposure to

the dangers of the sea. If Mr. Humble will read, or read again, Dr. Burke

Ryan's Essay on Infanticide, which gained the Fothergillian prize medal

some time ago, and in which the fact seems to be proved that the crime is

more common in England than anywhere else, he will perhaps see reason to

conclude, from the French statistics there adduced, that foundling

hospitals are more effectual in preventing this abominable evil than

anything else that has ever been devised.

------

Miscellany.

_New Electric Machines_.--At the conversazione given by the president

of the Royal Society at Burlington House, London, the display of newly

constructed astronomical, optical, and other philosophical instruments

afforded a gratifying proof of improvements in the mode of construction,

and of increased skill on the part of the constructors. The large

spectroscope, which is to be used in combination with Lord Rosse's monster

telescope, was a triumph of workmanship and of philosophical adaptation of

means to ends; and we may expect ere long to hear of important discoveries

in spectroscopic phenomena. Mr. C. W. Siemens and Professor Wheatstone

exhibited each one a remarkable electric machine of his own invention,

which demonstrated in a surprising way the convertibility of mechanical

force into electricity. In these machines, a bar of soft iron, wrapped

lengthwise in copper wire, is made to rotate between two other bars of soft

iron, which are fixed. The rotating bar is inoculated, so to speak, with a

small touch of magnetism, and then being set spinning very rapidly, the

small touch is generated into a stream of electricity, which passes off

with a crackling noise, increasing or diminishing in proportion to the

rotation.

{429}

In a laboratory, such a machine would be highly serviceable, as it could be

used to generate large quantities of electricity very cheaply, and there is

no doubt but that many other ways of turning it to account will be

discovered. Mr. Siemens has already discovered one most important way,

namely, the lighting-up of buoys and beacons at a distance from the shore,

by sending a current of electricity to them through a submarine cable. That

is the way in which he purposes to employ the electricity generated by his

machine: his method has been approved by the Commissioners of Northern

Light-houses, who intend to apply it to light the buoys and beacons that

mark the most dangerous spots round the coast of Scotland. But of all

wonderful electric machines, the one invented by Mr. H. Wilde of Manchester

is the most wonderful. A machine which weighs about four and a half tons,

including one ton of copper wire, and which requires an eight-horse

steam-engine to keep its armature in rotation, must necessarily produce

tremendous effects. It gives off electric fire in torrents: the light

produced is intense, and is quite as useful to photographers as sunlight,

with the advantage over the sun, that it can be used on dark days and at

night. This light, as we hear, is already employed in manufacturing

establishments, and is to be introduced into light-houses. A French

company, who have purchased the right to use it in France, will try it

first in the light-house on Cape Grisnez, whence, as is said, the light

will radiate not only all across the Channel, but some distance into the

southern counties of England. Besides the production of light, the new

machine is applicable to important manufacturing purposes; the size of the

machine being altered to suit special circumstances. A well-known firm at

Birmingham are about to use it, instead of a galvanic battery, for the

deposition of copper on articles required to be coated with that metal. In

this case, the electricity of the machine is substituted for the acid and

zinc of the battery, and will cost less. In another instance, the machine

is to be used for the production of ozone in large quantities for

employment in bleaching operations. Professor Tyndall exhibited the

sensitive flame, on which he had given a lecture at the Royal Institution:

or, to be more explicit, he made experiments to show the action of sound on

flame. The results are remarkable. A tall flame, looking like an ordinary

gas-flame, issuing from a circular orifice in an iron nipple, behaves in an

extraordinary way when, by increased pressure, it is raised to fourteen or

sixteen inches in length. If a shrill whistle be blown in any part of the

room, it suddenly drops down to about half the length, and rises again

immediately on cessation of the sound. A blow of a hammer on a board

produces a similar effect; and still more so when the blow is on an anvil:

the flame then jumps with surprising briskness, the reason being that the

ring of the anvil combines those higher tones to which the flame is most

sensitive. So tuning-forks, at the ordinary pitch, produce no effect; but

if made to vibrate one thousand six hundred, or two thousand, or more times

in a second, the flame responds energetically. In another experiment, a

fiddle is played in presence of a flame twenty inches in length--the low

notes produce no effect; but when the highest string is sounded, "the jet,"

to quote Professor Tyndall's own words, "instantly squats down to a

tumultuous bushy flame, eight inches long." And the same effect is produced

by strokes on a bell at twenty yards' distance: at every stroke the flame

drops instantaneously. This last experiment is a good illustration of the

rapidity with which sound is propagated through air, for there is no

sensible interval between the bell-stroke and the shortening of the flame.

Another flame, nearly twenty inches long, is yet more sensitive, for the

rustle of a silk dress, a step on the floor, creaking of boots, dropping of

a small coin, all make it drop down suddenly to eight inches, or become

violently agitated. At twenty yards' distance, the rattle of a bunch of

keys in the hand shortens the flame, and it is affected even by the fall of

a piece of paper, or the plashing of a raindrop. To the vowel U, it makes

no response; to O, it shakes; E makes it flutter strongly; and S breaks it

up into a tumultuous mass. Many more instances might be given, but these

will suffice to show that surprising effects are produced by sound. To the

scientific inquirer they will be serviceable as fresh illustrations in the

science of acoustics. _Chambers's Journal_.

------

{430}

Original.

New Publications.

American Boys And Girls.

Two Essays from the recently published volume,

"American Leaves." By Samuel Osgood,

Minister of the Church of the

Messiah, New-York. Harpers. 1867.

These essays were reprinted, the author tells us, at the request of a lady,

for general circulation, with the hope of doing some good to the rising

generation, and those who have the charge of bringing them up. We hope they

may do good, and they certainly will if they exercise any practical

influence at all upon either parents or young people. Their literary merit

is undeniable. The topics they touch upon are, however, so painfully

momentous that it is impossible to dwell with mere critical enjoyment upon

their readable qualities as essays to be amused with during a leisure hour.

Their charm of style is only to be appreciated as a means of alluring

attention to the very grave and alarming truths which they contain. The

author touches with a light and delicate hand upon a very sore and diseased

spot in our social system, and hints, in a manner which is intelligible to

the instructed without being dangerous to the innocent, at evils which may

well awaken the alarm of every one who is solicitous for the well-being of

the family, the community, and the race. We are especially pleased with his

very sound remarks upon the luxury, extravagance, and effeminacy which are

exercising such a corrupting influence upon American society. We think,

however, the doctor is more successful in pointing out the evils which

exist than in proposing a remedy for them. The sacramental doctrine of

matrimony, the Catholic law maintaining its absolute indissolubility, the

sacrament of penance, and the authority of a church which is a supreme

judge and lawgiver, executed by a priesthood who are independent of the

opinions, caprices, and trammels of worldly society, are alone sufficient

to reform the vitiated, or preserve the integrity of youth. It were as easy

to catch the devil in a mouse-trap as to renovate society by any means

which Unitarian Christianity has at its disposal.

The author's very irrelevant digression upon the Catholic doctrine of

celibacy adds one more to the numberless instances in which respectable

writers criticise rashly without understanding their subject. He says, (p.

109,) "We know very well that theorists of extreme classes, who have noted

the decrease in the number of marriages in high life, are inclined to

rejoice at it, and for opposite reasons: the one class because they think

celibacy to be the higher condition." After several more passages, in which

the language is very ambiguous, and may easily be understood as veiling a

covert insinuation against the Catholic clergy and religious communities,

the author concludes his remarks thus: "We believe that a true Christian

wife has a purity that angels may not scorn and many a nun might covet, and

that the man who keeps his marriage vows need not ask of any ghostly monk

for lessons in manly virtue. The longer we live the more we reverence God's

obvious law, and the less we admire the devices of men who forbid marriage,

and so undertake to be wiser than God."

It is quite the reverse of truth that a Catholic moralist, whether

"ghostly" or otherwise, approves of or recommends or rejoices in a general

practice of celibacy among either the wealthy or the poorer classes. The

Catholic clergy recommend and favor marriage for the generality of persons

as by far the best and happiest state for them. The Catholic doctrine does

not disparage the purity of Christian wives, or the virtue of married men

who are faithful to their matrimonial obligations. The spectral gentleman,

whose lessons the doctor politely declines in advance, would probably, if

he had the chance to give one, pass over the evangelical counsels, and

enlarge on the moral duty of representing things as they are. The Catholic

Church does not "forbid marriage." She teaches that it is a sacrament. The

Greek Church has corrupted it by permitting divorce; every Protestant

Church has done the same; the civil law has laid its barbarous hand upon it

to drag it from the protecting power of the church. The Roman Church alone

has first raised it to its proper elevation and indissolubility, and

afterward defended it by her uncompromising law from desecration.

{431}

We advise the doctor to turn his attention more undividedly to the work of

rehabilitating marriage in the rights of which corrupt morals and

legislation have deprived it, and not to distress himself with the fear

lest the sacrament should be despised or neglected by Catholics.

Sermon On The Dignity And Value Of Labor.

By the Rev. Joseph Fransioli,

Pastor of St. Peter's Church, Brooklyn, L.I.

This is a first-class popular sermon; plain, practical, and encouraging.

That Christianity has redeemed the masses in elevating and dignifying

manual labor is plain enough to the student of history. That which was a

curse in Adam is turned into a blessing in Christ. It is equally true that

when men forget the Christian aim of life and suffer themselves to be

guided, as too large a class of our modern society does, by heathen

principles, labor becomes contemptible, poverty becomes a misfortune, and

the wearing of patches and rags a crime. The preacher thus fitly

characterizes labor: "Work is of divine origin. It is not a human

invention, or a system adopted by civil society for its wants in the

different classes; it is a divine institution, an obligation imposed by

God's eternal wisdom upon all men without distinction whatsoever. It is a

divine institution distributing labor in its various branches among all

men, not creating, properly speaking, different classes. Work is leading

men towards God, the centre of perfection. Work, then, ennobles man, and

the true dignity and worthiness of a man is to be measured by the

proportion of his work."

Again, he is justly severe upon the modern distinction of "low" and

"respectable" classes in this false sense. "The father who carries the

shovel on his shoulders to dig the foundation of your buildings; the son

who, early in the morning, is seen walking, tools in hand; the washerwoman

and the servant girl who clean your clothes and honestly and faithfully do

the work of your houses, are not low. They discharge a noble task which

their families appreciate and which God will reward. Do you know who belong

to the very lowest classes of men and Christians? Those that speculate on

the lives of the poor laborers by building monstrous tenement houses, where

bad ventilation, poor light, scarcity of water, and dilapidated rooms lead

the over-crowded and over-taxed inmates to misery and a premature death.

Those that sue for divorces in the courts, ride in carriages, and display

themselves in public with more than one wife, more than one family, more

than one God; trampling on human and divine law. Those that spend their

nights in gambling, their days in hypocritical schemes, who never balance

their expenses with their revenues, and consume double the amount of their

salaries, and leave their bills unpaid or shamefully defraud their

employers. These and many others of the same stamp, whose number is

countless; these swell the figures of the low classes." This is preaching

which reasons "of judgment and justice," and tells the truth without fear

or favor. It is a refreshing sermon, and lacks in nothing but in having

been too hastily printed, being full of typographical errors.

Frithiof's Saga.

From the Swedish of Esaias Tegnér, Bishop of Wexiö. By the Rev. William

Lewery Blackley, M.A. First American edition, edited by Bayard Taylor:

pp. 201, 12mo. New-York, Leypoldt & Holt. 1867.

Several translations of this beautiful poem have been made in English, each

of which had its own peculiar merit. An accurately literal translation of a

foreign book possesses the value of presenting to us just what the author

says; but the manner of his speech, the true spirit which gives life and

character to his work, must necessarily be wanting. Such was the

translation of Tegnér's poem, by Prof. George Stephens, published at London

in 1839. Prof. Longfellow was more successful in the poetic versions he

gave in an article on the poet contributed by him to the North American

Review of July, 1837. That of Mr. Blackley before us is not only a faithful

translation, but is also English poetry, preserving in its style enough of

the wild Scandinavian spirit to mark its origin. As a specimen we subjoin

the following extract from "Frithiof at Sea." The hero is compelled to make

a dangerous voyage by two kings, Helge and Halfdan, whose sister Ingeborg

he is wooing contrary to their consent:

{432}

"Now, King Helge stood

In fury on the strand,

And in embittered mood

Adjured the storm-fiend's hand.

"Gloomy is the heaven growing,

Through desert skies the thunders roar,

In the deep the billows brewing

Cream with foam the surface o'er.

Lightnings cleave the storm-cloud, seeming

Blood-red gashes in its side;

And all the sea-birds, wildly screaming,

Fly the terrors of the tide.

"Storm is coming, comrades;

Its angry wings I hear

Flapping in the distance,

But fearless we may be.

Sit tranquil in the grove,

And fondly think on me,

Lovely in thy sorrow,

Beauteous Ingeborg.

"Now two storm-fiends came

Against Ellida's side;

One was wind-cold Ham,

One was snowy Heyd.

"Loose set they the tempest's pinions,

Down diving in ocean deep;

Billows, from unseen dominions,

To the god's abode they sweep.

All the powers of frightful death,

Astride upon the rapid wave,

Rise from the foaming depths beneath,

The bottomless, unfathomed grave.

"Fairer was our journey

Beneath the shining moon,

Over the mirrory ocean,

To Balder's sacred grove.

Warmer far than here

Was Ingeborg's loving heart;

Whiter than the sea-foam

Heaved her gentle breast.

......

"Now ocean fierce battles:

The wave-troughs deeper grow,

The whistling cordage rattles,

The planks creak loud below.

"But though higher waves appearing

Seem like mountains to engage,

Brave Ellida, never fearing,

Mocks the angry ocean's rage.

Like a meteor, flashing brightness,

Darts she forth with dauntless breast,

Bounding with a roebuck's lightness

Over trough and over crest.

"Sweeter were the kisses

Of Ingeborg in the grove,

Than here to taste in tempest

High-sprinkled, briny foam.

Better the royal daughter

Of Bele to embrace,

Than here in anxious labor

The tiller fast to hold.

"Whirling cold and fast,

Snow-wreaths fill the sail;

Over deck and mast

Patters heavy hail.

"The very stern they see no more,

So thick is darkness spread,

As gloom and horror hovers o'er

The chamber of the dead.

Still, to sink the sailor, dashes

Implacable each angry wave;

Gray, as if bestrewn with ashes,

Yawns the endless, awful grave."

The Swedish language is full of melody and of imitative harmony; as the

author himself calls it:

"Language of honor and conquest,

how manly thy accents, and noble!

Ring'st like the smitten steel,

and mov'st like the march of the planets."

It is, therefore, difficult of translation, and one who would attempt it

must not only be well versed in that language, but must also possess a more

than ordinary knowledge of English. Mr. Blackley has, we think,

accomplished his task with no small degree of success.

Moore's Irish Melodies.

With a Memoir of the poet.

Illustrated by D. Maclise, R.A., and William Riches. Columbus, Ohio:

Riches & Moore, Engravers, Printers, and Publishers.

The enterprising publishers of this work have certainly spared no pains in

its profuse illustration, the engravings being of such a character as to

occupy at least two thirds of the space in each page. The many admirers of

the melodious verses of the great Irish poet will welcome this new and

elegant edition of them.

A copy of the designs, if furnished by the pencil of Maclise, should alone

be worth the price of the book. It is sold only by subscription.

Eug. Cummiskey, Philadelphia, announces

for immediate publication the first

series of his Juvenile Library, in twelve

vols. The following are the titles of

the volumes of the first series:

The Great Tenabraka;

Miss Touch-All;

The Young Raiders;

The Old Beggar;

George, the Little Chimney-Sweep;

The Lost Child;

The Desert Island;

Bethlehem;

Pat, the Little Emigrant;

Idleness;

Negligence;

The Little Gardeners.

These tales will

form a collection of stories for children.

The price of the set is to be $5.40. He

has also in press Barbarossa; an Historical

Tale of the Twelfth Century, and The

Vengeance of a Jew.

--------

{433}

The Catholic World

Vol. V., No. 28 July, 1867.

------

Original.

Catholic Congresses.

We do not hesitate to say that but few Catholics in this country are aware

of one of the most important events in the modern history of the church in

Europe, the meeting of the Catholic congresses.

Inaugurated by a council of twenty-six bishops at Würzburg, and a general

convention of the clergy and laity at Mayence in 1848, the Catholic

congresses became an accomplished fact, and since that time each succeeding

year has recorded the meeting of one or more of these assemblies held in

different cities of Belgium and Germany.

The renewal of Catholic life, the strengthening of Catholic principles, and

the steady and sure return of the people of those countries to the faith,

is, in a great measure, due to the influence which these reunions have

exerted on the public mind. In the beginning they appear to have received

their impetus chiefly from a desire to place the church, so long enslaved

in Germany beneath the tyranny of Protestantism, trammelled by state

interference, and so desperately attacked by the wide-spread infidelity of

the day, upon a free and independent footing.

Feeling themselves strong enough to speak, they spoke and demanded the

freedom of the church. An universal response was thus elicited, not only

from the clergy, who are the ordinary mouth-pieces in matters of the

welfare of the church, but there started up at once zealous and devoted

laymen, who were competent to take part in the discussion of questions of

interest to Catholic society. Expression stimulated thought, and the

influence of these conventions soon permeated every class of society,

awakening in all minds a desire to contribute something to the general

stock of information and experience which these assemblies began to gather

in, like so much latent force, wherewith to repel the attack of

adversaries, and to advance the cause of truth and pure morality.

It was truly a Catholic project, and which none but Catholics could attempt

without weakening the cause they would undertake by a certain manifestation

of discordant and irreconcilable principles and the consequent loss of

power. But Catholics may unite for mutual edification and enlightenment,

joined as they are as brethren in a common faith, whose principles and aims

are alike in every country and with all people, and be sure of reaping

thereby solid fruits, and of adding new triumphs for religion.

{434}

These general conventions in Germany culminated finally in the great

Catholic congresses of Malines and Würzburg, the first of which opened at

the former city in 1863. "This congress," says a writer, "exerted a magic

influence; the drowsy were aroused from their lethargy, and the

faint-hearted were inspired with confidence: they saw their strength and

felt it. In that congress we see the beginning of a new epoch in the

religious history of Belgium."

The great benefits arising from this movement were recognized and

encouraged from the start by the Holy Father, in honor of whose approval

the different associations took the name of "Piusvereine," a name still

retained by those held in Switzerland. The first great congress of Malines

was opened under the auspices of his eminence, Cardinal Sterckz, archbishop

of that city, to which the Pope also sent an autograph letter containing

his august sanction and words of benediction.

Everywhere and by all classes the most lively interest was shown in the

work, and men of merit flocked to take part in the deliberations, members

of the clergy, secular and regular, the nobility, statesmen, philosophers,

editors, professors in every department of science, painters, sculptors,

musicians, architects, builders, heads of pious and charitable societies;

each and all vying with one another in bringing in the fruits of their

learning and experience, that their brethren in the faith might be

benefited by them, and the Catholic cause be strengthened and advanced by

the results of their united efforts. The sentiments with which they were

inspired may be gathered from the following extract of the reply sent by

the congress of Malines to the Holy Father:

"It is true the trials of our times are great and grievous, and if they

be, they at least should make us Catholics understand the necessity of

organizing with more union and with greater energy than ever, to assure

the liberty of the church and of all the works which she inspires. If

associations are formed from one end of the world to the other for all

the interests of life, and too often for the propagation of evil, we

Catholics have the right, and are in duty bound, to associate ourselves

together for the interests of the good and the true. This sacred right we

intend to exercise with that perseverance and self denial which become

the disciples of Christ.

"On every hand the enemies of our faith league together to shake the

foundations of the church of God. We, devoted children of that church,

will put together all our forces to defend it. We wish to strengthen the

bonds of charity between us, fortify ourselves against the seductions of

the age, enlighten and encourage one another--to seek, in fine, the means

of comforting and consoling the little ones and the poor, whom our Lord

Jesus Christ loved with such a tender love."

The report of the assembly records that the reading of this was received

with unanimous and prolonged acclamations.

That the members of these congresses meant work in coming together is

evident from the report of their proceedings. We have before us two large

octavo volumes of 400 pages each, closely printed, which contain the

accounts of only the congress of Malines, held in 1863. It gives the

speeches, discussions, reports of committees, etc., at length, and is a

record of immense and patient labor, of deep scientific research, and of

earnest and devoted effort. Another volume of equal size is the published

report of the department of religious music alone. In this as well as in

other branches of art and science prizes have been offered of a notable

value for original productions. We observe in a late report of the congress

of Malines of 1866, that the prize offered for a mass, composed according

to the rules adopted by a former congress, brought in seventy-six original

compositions, of which the musical critics (of whose severity there can be

little doubt) reported twenty-one as of first class, and twenty-six of

medium merit.

{435}

The programme of the next congress in the same city, to be opened next

September, offers among others a prize of 1000 francs for the design of a

church. We hope that, among the many of our bishops and distinguished

laymen who will visit Europe this summer, some will be able to find the

time to be present at this great Catholic assembly, and examine its

projects and working.

The clergy have from the start seconded these congresses with all their

influence, and a very large number of them are regular and active members.

Discourses were pronounced before them by several distinguished prelates,

among whom we remark the names of Cardinal Wiseman and Bishop Dupanloup.

Yet all the members meet upon a perfect equality. The title to membership

is that of merit alone, and the guarantee that one has something positive

to offer for the furtherance of the objects for which the congress is

convened. No one appears as a general delegate of veto, or as a committee

of one on objections; but each one comes well posted up in the department

in which he is interested, well prepared with his documents, notes of

experience, authorities, etc., and hence their deliberations are based upon

solid matter and not upon visionary ideas or imaginary schemes. It is easy

to see how these congresses have produced such practical results as the

advanced state of Catholicity has shown in the last few years throughout

Germany and Belgium. Art in its relations to religion and the church has

been so well encouraged that the congress of 1864 saw over one hundred

artists and archaeologists assembled in council. All that contributes to

the propriety and majesty of the divine service in church decoration and

furniture received special attention, and numerous works have been

published in consequence.

Catholic journalism received such an impetus that Belgium, small as it is,

now boasts of fifty Catholic periodicals. In Europe they understand the

importance of fostering and purifying this department of public

instruction. A late German writer says: "Journalism is an important

profession, whose members should be conscientious and honorable men. The

journalist addresses his language to an audience far more numerous than the

professors, and at present his influence is, so to say, unlimited; he

reaches every part of educated society, and sways public opinion. He is

called to be the standard-bearer of liberty and truth. He must, therefore,

implant sound principles in the popular mind, and, standing above the reach

of paltry prejudice, unite in himself a high degree of intelligence and

true devotion to the eternal laws of the church. Without independence,

dignity, and moral freedom he cannot do justice to the task imposed on him

by God. _'Impavidum ferient ruinae.'_ In England, America, and

Belgium, the press wields a powerful influence; it has become sovereign,

and is necessary to the nation's life. Science feels that, unless it is

diffused, it is powerless, and that the school-room is too narrow a field."

The foundation of a great Catholic university for Germany is now under

consideration, and a large sum is already subscribed toward it. In this

respect Belgium is far in advance of its more populous and powerful

neighbor. By persistent and united effort the university of Louvain was

established, and it now numbers 800 more students than those of the three

state universities put together. We cannot refrain from transcribing the

following earnest words of the writer already quoted. Speaking of Germany,

he says:

"We must found a new university, a purely Catholic and free institution,

untrammelled by state dictation, and entirely under the direction of the

church. To do this, the bishops, the nobles, and the clergy must use

their best endeavors; but the professors, too, must do their share, and

not look on with cool indifference, as is the case with most of them. ...

There is neither truce nor rest for us until we are _not only equal,

but superior_ to our opponents in every branch of science."

{436}

The congress of Würzburg founded a "Society for the Publication of Catholic

Pamphlets," and it was so well received that in two years' time the number

of its subscribers amounted to 25,000. Few of its many projects proposed

and discussed appear to have met with such an enthusiastic reception and

inspired such lively interest as this. In passing, let us be permitted to

hope that a similar society lately founded in the United States may meet

with a like encouragement, and that our people will appreciate the

necessity of supporting with all their energies this truly apostolic work.

It is not surprising that the attention of these congresses was turned in

an especial manner to the subject of charity, both corporal and spiritual.

It is the spirit of Catholic charity that prompted these reunions and gave

to them both their life and fruit. Says the writer above quoted, on this

subject:

"Charity is the culminating point of all activity, for what is religion

but practical love of God and of our neighbor? Truth must not only be

proved, but felt; science and art are the necessary fruits of true

religion; science is not the light, but is to give testimony of the

light. The object of art is the beautiful; of science, the true; and of

charity, the good; but the beautiful, the true, and the good are the

three highest categories--the indispensable conditions of intellectual

activity--the connecting links between the intellect and God, who is the

fountain head and prototype of all being, as well as the last end of

human investigations and aspirations."

The deliberations of these congresses, therefore, embraced every form of

charity, while they confined themselves to such branches of art and science

as have more or less direct relation to religion. The report of the

congress of Malines before us refers to discussions, resolutions, etc.,

upon a vast number of charitable projects, the titles of some of which we

are tempted to lay before our readers, that they have some adequate idea of

the herculean labors of these zealous assemblies.

Catholic Society for the Burial of the Poor;

Society for the Propagation of the Faith;

Establishment at London of a Seminary for

Missions among the Heathen;

Missions of Herzégovines in Turkey;

Erection of a Catholic Church and Schools in St. Petersburg;

Foundation of a Belgian Mission in China;

Pilgrimages to Rome;

Means of consolidating and developing Catholic

Charitable Institutions;

Extension of the Society of St. Vincent of Paul;

Societies of St. Francis Xavier and

St. John the Baptist for workmen;

OEuvre of the Ladies of Mercy;

OEuvre of Mothers of Families;

Means of extending and propagating Instruction in Free Schools;

Diffusion of Good Books;

Foundation of Public Libraries;

Schools for Deaf-Mutes;

Foundation of a Chair, in the University of

Louvain, of Industry and Mining;

The Subject of the Marriage of Soldiers;

Protectorates of Children;

Protectorates of Students;

do. of Apprentices;

do. of Young Journeymen;

Young Men's Societies in Ireland and elsewhere;

Orphanages;

Hospitals, etc., etc.

If so much in the matter of charity alone forms the subject of

consideration at one of these congresses, our readers will naturally be led

to suppose that a large number of persons must be brought together on these

occasions. In this they are not mistaken, for at the congress at Würzburg,

in 1864 the number of delegates amounted 7000. What a truly magnificent and

inspiring spectacle must have been presented at the opening of this

assembly, when those _seven thousand_ Catholic men, one in faith, and

united in charity, full of zeal and whole souled devotion to the holy

church, assisted in a body at the grand solemn mass of the Holy Ghost, and

implored on bended knees the benediction of God upon their future labors!

{437}

With this scene before our eyes, are not we Catholics of America tempted to

envy them with a holy envy the glorious work in which they are engaged, and

to wish that it was in our own land and for the good of our own people that

all this was done? Is there one who glances at the titles we have given

above of some of their labors, who does not see that we too need, even more

than our brethren in Europe, to have all these subjects relating to the

advancement of religion, the instruction of the people, and the comfort of

the poor brought under consideration, the best means of their

accomplishment discussed, the knowledge and experience of our best Catholic

men, both clergy and laity, brought under contribution, unity and

organization furthered, and, by combining our forces, strike a good blow

for the glory of God and the good of our fellow-men? The laity think of

nothing but of contributing their money when called upon to aid some good

work, and our over-tasked clergy are left to devise, plan, superintend, and

carry out every religious project under heaven.

Now, it cannot be denied that there are thousands of our laymen fully

competent to co-operate with the clergy in every branch of religious

science, art, and charity. If they would add their minds to their money,

and put their own individual energies to the wheel, a power would at once

be created in the church of the United States irresistible to its enemies,

and a certain guarantee of the glory and triumph of our holy faith.

The want of such a congress has already been the subject of much serious

reflection with many persons, whose position and duties oblige them to

recognize the necessity of union and cooperation in carrying out the

various good works in which they are engaged. If we are truly imbued with

the spirit of our holy religion, we should not only be far from grudging

the communication of our knowledge and experience to our brethren, but

should rather burn to impart it, to make it profitable to the church at

large; and we are convinced that in no other way could this be so

effectually done as in a congress modelled upon those of Belgium and

Germany.

The form of their congress is precisely that to which we are well

accustomed here in organized assemblies. All projects are first referred to

particular committees and put in proper shape to be presented before the

whole congress, where they are quickly disposed of according to their

merits. The statutes or rules under which they meet are of such a character

as to produce perfect harmony in their discussions, and the subjects which

are admitted as proper for deliberation and deserving of encouragement are

just such as the good of religion demands attention to and united action

upon at our hands.

Not a few of the first scientific men in the United States are Catholics.

True science must necessarily be in harmony with the true religion. It has

been the fashion of late to consider that they are in no way related to or

dependent one upon the other.

The doctrine of Luther, that reason must be left out of account in

religion, and that its judgments are not to be sought for nor relied upon

in matters of faith, has resulted in turning scientific men out of the

church.

Men will reason, will claim and use their reason as they should, by divine

right; and if you divorce reason from religion, what wonder that they will

accept the decision and look upon science as a department of human

knowledge and belief over which religion has no control? The Catholic

Church has never professed this degrading doctrine; on the contrary, she

has stoutly condemned all propositions implying it in any sense; but still,

Catholic men of science must associate with scientific infidels as

scientific men; they must correspond, deliberate, examine, and discuss

questions of vital importance with them, who make no hesitation in assuming

premises and forming theories the conclusions of which are contradictory to

faith. We are not here accusing our brethren, or casting suspicion upon

their orthodoxy.

{438}

What we intend to imply is simply this, that for want of fraternal

co-operation and mutual recognition and encouragement the false principle

we have alluded to above is gradually gaining ascendency in the popular as

well as in the scientific mind. Had we a "Catholic Academy" composed of the

men who stand high in intellectual culture and scientific research, such an

"academy" as the European congresses are now striving to found, we should

be able to present a bold front in the arena of science, and compel

attention to its true principles and to the fact of their consonance with

the teachings of faith. Thus a right arm of power would be given to the

church from a source which now practically ignores it. It has been our

pleasure to meet in different cities of the Union with many men, devout

Catholics, whose names would grace an academic roll of first class merit.

Indeed, and we say it knowingly, in every profession--in philosophy,

medicine, law, geology, as well as in the army and navy, Catholics rank

with the foremost. What they need, and what the church needs on their

account, we say again, is union, opportunity, and mutual acquaintance and

support. It is impossible to estimate what influence a body of such men

would exert, or with what respect for our holy religion they would inspire

the American public.

Neither must it be forgotten that the church alone possesses an universal

and complete system of Christian philosophy. For the want of this,

Protestantism has in the main abandoned all attempts to reconcile the

deductions of reason with the dogmas of revelation. Hence, its systems of

dogmatic theology are extremely jejune and discordant. Let us bring this

fact before the minds of the intellectual men of our age and country, and

at once Protestantism as a reasonable system of religion must fall below

their contempt.

But the institution of a Catholic academy must be consequent upon the

foundation of a Catholic university. We have some good schools, where a

more scholarly knowledge of the classics can be acquired than in

professedly Protestant colleges, but they surpass us in all other branches

of science and intellectual culture. And the reason is plain. Their

professorial chairs are filled by men of superior attainments, whose

services are secured by good salaries.

Their standard for graduation is, however, extremely low compared to that

required by the European colleges and universities. Indeed, most of our

Protestant and Catholic colleges, too, accord the diploma to all their

students, irrespective of their merits. We ourselves have been called upon,

by a graduate of one of the oldest and most respectable Protestant colleges

in the country, to translate his diploma into English, that the old folks

at home might know what it meant. We need to raise our own colleges to a

higher standard than they now possess, and to offer to our men of talent

the means of completing the imperfect education of an ordinary college

course. To do this we must have an university whose requirements for

matriculation shall demand a rigid examination, in which the candidate must

come off thoroughly successful; whose chairs shall be filled with

first-class professors, and which shall possess an ample endowment for its

purposes.

This great work, which is the hope of all the scholars in the country, can

only be carried out by united effort on the part of the episcopate and the

wealthy laity, and a congress would be a most fitting opportunity for

bringing the matter to a definitive and practical conclusion. Great men in

council will do great things, and generous souls will be stimulated to

emulate examples of heroic sacrifice. It is a word to the wise.

Of all the departments of public instruction, the press needs amongst us

the improvement, encouragement, and sanction which a congress is calculated

to give.

{439}

Think of Belgium, with only 5,000,000 inhabitants, supporting over

_fifty_ Catholic periodicals, and possessing numerous societies for

the publication of cheap religious books and pamphlets! Our Catholic

population of the United States is at least equal in number to that of the

whole of Belgium. Yet with all our numbers and means we have not one daily

paper under Catholic supervision, a most important work, to the

establishment of which one of the first efforts of a Catholic congress with

us should be directed. Those who complain of our Catholic press, and make

invidious comparisons between the literary merit of our periodicals and our

neighbors', should remember that editors are professional men, and not to

be obtained for the wages of a day laborer; and that a first-class

periodical must have a first-class circulation. A congress of editors would

tend to elevate the tone of the Catholic press, and its voice would

stimulate all classes to greater effort in promoting a more generous

diffusion of this kind of literature. An increased circulation would enable

the conductors of our journals to pay for original contributions, and

engage the services of first-class writers; an outlay which very few of

them have now the means of making.

That the Catholic Publication Society, now successfully founded, needs the

influence of a congress to extend its operations to the different cities

and towns of the Union, is plain to be seen. There are hundreds of zealous

persons of every condition of life who are waiting to be told what to do to

advance its interests, who want to see some system of local organization

proposed and sanctioned by some proper authority. Its friends wish to meet

together, to know each other, and after due deliberation to frame fitting

resolutions for action, which upon their return to their respective homes

they may carry into effect.

This important project cannot be fully realized, and be fruitful, under

God, in instructing and edifying thousands of souls unto salvation, unless

a public and general interest be excited in its success, and with the

active co-operation of the great charitable associations and pious

confraternities now established amongst us.

There is also a pressing necessity for us to obtain fuller information, and

come to a decision about the subject of church architecture, and all that

relates to the exterior of divine worship. We are building cathedrals and

churches in every style, and on principles which are as various as there

are fancies and theories in the brains of architects. Immense sums of money

are needed and collected for this purpose, and it is of the greatest moment

that they be wisely expended.

The time has come when every church we erect should be an honor to us for

its architectural beauty, its substantial character, and adaptability to

our needs, and when the generous alms of the faithful should no longer be

thrown away upon unsightly, badly planned, and worse built edifices, of

which so many exist in our country, to the great discomfort of both priest

and people, and monuments (happily not lasting ones) of the want of

knowledge and experience of those who constructed them.

It becomes us, therefore, to encourage our Catholic architects who

understand the meaning and use of a church. We cannot look for Protestants

to care much for the requirements of the ritual in their designs, or to

appreciate the necessity of insisting upon what the church insists. Their

chief aim is to please their patrons, and carry out whatever is proposed to

them. Few of our Protestant architects know any more about the proper

interior disposition of a Catholic church than they do of a Moslem mosque.

See, again, how much we suffer from the wretched altar furniture and

sacerdotal vestments imported for our use, and which our clergy are obliged

to take and make a display in their sanctuaries of things belonging in

style to every age of the church.

{440}

How often have we not seen a priest clothed in Roman vestments celebrating

mass at a Gothic altar furnished with Byzantine crucifix and candlesticks,

and a miscellaneous job lot of tawdry French artificial flowers, while the

sacred precinct of the sanctuary would be furnished with carpet and chairs

that smack of the drawing-room or the kitchen?

These evils existed and do exist in other countries besides our own, and we

see that the congresses of Belgium have done a great deal to correct them

by calling Catholic architects together in council, and offering prizes for

designs of perfect churches built and furnished according to the Ritual,

the Ceremoniale Episcoporum, the Missal, and the decrees of the

Congregation of Rites.

The music of our churches, what shall we say of it? Are our city churches

to be turned into fashionable concert-rooms where hired Protestant, Jewish,

and infidel artists are to sing their _morceaux de l'opera_ for our

edification? Are our country churches never to witness a high mass

celebrated in them, and the people in those localities never to be convened

for the Vesper service or comforted with the Benediction of the Blessed

Sacrament because there is no one to teach the children at least to sing a

Tantum Ergo? Are our organists always to be irresponsible musicians, guided

by no rubrics, ignorant of fast days and festivals, outraging every sense

of propriety, and banishing all sentiment of piety and devotion by their ad

libitum roulades and fantasias of the most degraded taste? If we must pay

others to sing the praises of God for us, why not also engage others to do

our praying likewise? Cannot we have, as other countries have, voluntary

choirs? Why cannot all the people sing at proper times and seasons, and

join in that part of worship which from its very nature is the best

calculated to awaken the deepest emotions of the soul!

The question of the feasibility of voluntary choirs or of congregational

singing is no longer wholly a doubtful one. We know of several churches in

the country that have always had voluntary choirs, and we were present

during the past Lent at the services of one of our city churches where the

whole congregation joined with full voices in a popular Lenten service, and

in the solemn recitation of the Way of the Cross, for which they were

prepared at a single public rehearsal in the church.

The subject of church music, as we have already said, was one to which the

Belgium congresses paid a great deal of attention. The March number of the

Revue Generale of Brussels gives a most interesting report, by Canon

Devroye, of the proceedings of the jury to whom were referred the

adjudication of the prizes offered for an original popular mass, composed,

as says the worthy canon, "according to the rules laid down by the church,

and enforced by our general assembly;" and he observes in another place

that they must "redouble their efforts to procure universal observation of

the rules adopted by the congress, and which are also the rules of the

church and of common sense." Let us hasten to imitate this example of zeal

for the glory of God's house and for the decency and dignity of divine

worship. If we have not many original composers, we have, at any rate,

several good judges among our organists and directors of choirs. Their

united opinion would have a powerful influence in bringing about, what we

do not fear to say is greatly needed, a thorough reformation in our church

music.

In works of charity we have done a great deal already--enough, it may be,

to hide a multitude of sins; but charity is never content with what it has

done, nor will the objects of its care ever be wanting. "The poor ye have

always with you," said our Lord. They take his place in our midst, and by

their helplessness and suffering soften our selfish hearts, and win from us

those things in the inordinate love of which we are too apt to forget our

true destiny.

{441}

Men may give themselves up with too great ardor to the pursuit of science

and devotion to art, but charity has no dangerous limits which we may not

overpass. What we do for the poor we do for God, and no one can do too much

for him. Yet charity needs wisdom, demands thought, and profits by good

counsel. So that we see men instinctively band themselves together in

associations, that the ignorant, the suffering, the tempted, and the sinful

may be more wisely aided, and more speedily comforted. The religious orders

of charity have their own special rules and organization, and know how to

do their work well. But there are many forms of suffering and of corporal

and spiritual destitution which they cannot reach, or which their rule of

life prevents them from attending to. Enterprises that can embrace these

needy cases for charity in their scope must, therefore, be conducted more

or less entirely by the laity. To be truly effective, these enterprises

need rules and organization, as much as an order of Sisters of Charity or

of Mercy; and organization demands cooperation, deliberation, and union.

The glorious society of St. Vincent de Paul is one of these, and its works

are manifest. Millions of God's beloved poor will rise up at the last day

to praise these devoted children of the church and call them blessed. But

they cannot do all that is to be done. There is great need, especially in

our larger cities and towns, of patronages, protectorates, associations of

young apprentices and workmen, and what are called in Europe "Catholic

Circles," and with us "Young Men's Institutes," which enable our Catholic

youth particularly to enjoy honest recreation and amusement in honest

society, and at the same time improve their minds and refine their manners.

Such institutes have been already founded among us by several zealous

pastors with the most signal success. Our Sunday-schools also have been of

late much improved by the establishment of Sunday-School Unions, which

might be extended to every diocese in the country. To give a proper impetus

to all these works of charity, to make their character and working known,

and encourage their establishment throughout the country, would be one of

the principal subjects to come up for consideration before a congress.

We have shown enough reasons, we think, why such an assembly should be

convened. Many persons have the matter at heart; and we have perused with

great pleasure some communications on the subject which show a thoughtful

appreciation of its great importance. We trust that what we have written

may help to encourage them and others to give expression to their

sentiments, and thus prepare the public mind, so that the whole body of our

clergy and intelligent laity may be ready to take an active part in it as

soon as the proper authorities shall summon them to meet. A good proposal

has been made, which merits consideration: that the meeting of a congress

be made coincident with the assembling of the General Council of the

Society of St. Vincent de Paul, which now does so much of the work of a

congress in the matter of charity, and which brings together so many men of

the right stamp from all portions of our vast country. This would enable

the congress to profit by the fruits of their experience and influence in a

department where none are more competent than they to give advice and aid.

Our holy religion is making such rapid advances that there is an urgent

call upon every Catholic to bestir himself, and do all that lies in his

power to aid and support the clergy in their herculean efforts to feed and

comfort the flock of Christ. Converts are pouring in from all quarters, out

of all classes of society. Many of them have been earnest laborers in their

way in the cause of religion and of charity. Let them not find us idle,

neither must we allow them to be idle. Their influence with their

Protestant brethren is great, and we should give them the means of using it

and bringing it to good account.

{442}

The charitable power in the church, and the devotion of the clergy to the

spiritual good of the people, has in an especial manner been brought before

the minds of the American public by the events of the late war. Prejudice

is dying out on all sides, and we begin to find it easier to obtain a

hearing from those who have hitherto considered it a duty to turn a deaf

ear to our words of truth. Our hands are full of work, and if we are alive

to our opportunity, we shall accomplish glorious things for God, and not

fail of placing our divine faith, always so fruitful in good works, first

in rank and the highest in esteem before all those fragmentary, defective,

and inefficient forms of Christianity that have up to the present held sway

over the minds and hearts of so large a portion of the American people, and

kept them from the knowledge of that church which, as the church of God, is

Catholic, perfect, and, therefore, alone able to do the work which humanity

claims at the hands of religion.

------

Original.

Regret.

They say she says, "I have no heart."

Could she have seen my tears,

She'd know I keenly felt the smart

That broke the loving tie of years.

They say she says, "I have no heart."

'Twere cruel thus to say,

When I, to act the firmer part,

Keep from her sight away.

They say she says, "I have no heart,"

When sight, with tears grows dim;

To think that pride should keep apart

Such friends as we have been.

They say she says, "I have no heart,"

For her, to whom my soul had grown

So closely--that, even when apart,

I felt no joy--because alone.

Again she says, "I have no heart,"

When oft she staid the swelling tear;

As those who loved I saw depart,

I felt they left a sister here.

How can she say, "I have no heart,"

When night and morn I ask in prayer

That we may not be called apart,

Till both breathe forth forgiveness here?

------

{443}

Impressions Of Spain.

By Lady Herbert.

Gibraltar And Cadiz.

The journey from Granada was, if possible, more wearying than before, for

the constant heavy rains had reduced the roads to a perfect Slough of

Despond, in which the wretched mules perpetually sank and fell, and were

flogged up again in a way which, to a nature fond of animals, is the most

insupportable of physical miseries. Is there a greater suffering than that

of witnessing cruelty and wrong which you are powerless to redress? It was

not till nearly eleven o'clock the following day that our travellers found

themselves once more in their old quarters on the Alameda of Malaga. By the

kindness of the superior of the hospital, the usual nine o'clock mass had

been postponed till the arrival of the diligence: and very joyfully did one

of the party afterwards take her old place at the refectory of the

community, whose loving welcome made her forget that she was still in a

strange land. The following three or four days were spent almost entirely

in making preparations for their journey to Gibraltar, _via_ Ronda,

that eagle's nest, perched on two separate rocks, divided by a rapid

torrent, but united by a picturesque bridge, which crowns the range of

mountains forming the limits of the kingdom of Granada. The accounts of the

mountain-path were not encouraging; but to those who had ridden for four

months through the Holy Land, no track, however rugged and precipitous,

offered any terrors. But when the time came, to their intense

disappointment, the road was found to be impassable on the Gibraltar side,

owing to the tremendous torrents, which the heavy rains had swollen to a

most unusual extent. Two officers had attempted to swim their horses over,

but in so doing one of them was drowned; so that there seemed no

alternative but to give up their pleasant riding expedition, and, with it,

the sight of that gem of the whole country which had been one of their main

objects in returning to Malaga. Comforting themselves, however, by the hope

of going there later from Seville, our travellers took berths in the

steamer Cadiz, bound for Gibraltar; and after a beautiful parting

benediction at the little convent of the Nuns of the Assumption, they took

leave of their many kind friends, and, at six o'clock, (accompanied by

Madame de Q---- and her brother to the water's edge,) stepped on board the

boat which was to convey them to their steamer. Their captain, however,

proved faithless as to time; and it was not till morning that the cargo was

all on board and the vessel under weigh for their destination. After a

tedious and rough passage of nineteen hours, they rounded at last the

Europa Point, and found themselves a few minutes later landing on the Water

Port quay of the famous rock. Of all places in Spain, Gibraltar is the

least interesting, except from the British and national point of view. Its

houses, its people, its streets, its language, all are of a detestably

mongrel character.

The weather, too, during our travellers' stay, was essentially British,

incessant pouring rain and fog alternating with gales so tremendous that

twenty vessels went ashore in one day. Nothing was to be seen from the

windows of the Club-House Hotel but mist and spray, or heard but the boom

of the distress gun from the wrecking ships, answered by the more cheering

cannon of the port.

{444}

But there is a bright side to every picture: and one of the bright sides of

Gibraltar is to be found in its kind and hospitable governor and his wife,

who, nobly laying aside all indulgence in the life-long sorrow which family

events have caused, devote themselves morning, noon, and night to the

welfare and enjoyment of every one around them. Their hospitality is

natural to their duties and position; but the kind consideration which ever

anticipates the wishes of their guests, whether residents or, as our

travellers were, birds of passage, here to-day and gone to-morrow, springs

from a rarer and a purer source.

Another object of interest to some of our party was the charitable

institutions of the place. The white "cornettes" of the Sisters of Charity

are not seen as yet; but the sisters of the "Bon Secours" have supplied

their place in nursing the sick and tending all the serious cases of every

class in the garrison. Their value only became fully known at the late

fearful outbreak of cholera, to which two of them fell victims: but they

seemed rather encouraged than deterred by this fact. They live in a house

half-way up the hill on the way to Europa Point, which contains a certain

number of old and incurable people and a few orphan children. They visit

also the sick poor in their homes, and in the Civil Hospital, which is

divided, drolly enough, not into surgical and medical wards, but according

to the _religion_ of the patients! one half being Catholic, the other

Protestant, and small wards being reserved likewise for Jews and Moors. It

is admirably managed, the patients are supplied with every necessary and

well cared for by the kind-hearted superintendent, Dr. G----. The "Dames de

Lorette" have a convent towards the Europa Point, where they board and

educate between twenty and thirty young ladies. They have also a large

day-school in the town for both rich and poor, the latter being below and

the former above. The children seem well taught, and the poorer ones were

remarkable for great neatness and cleanliness. The excellent and charming

Catholic bishop, Dr. Scandella, vicar apostolic of Gibraltar, has built a

college for boys on the ground adjoining his palace, above the convent,

from whence the view is glorious; the gardens are very extensive. This

college, which was immensely needed in Gibraltar, is rapidly filling with

students, and is about to be affiliated to the London University. In the

garden above, a chapel is being built to receive the Virgin of "Europa,"

whose image, broken and despoiled by the English in 1704, was carried over

to Algeciras, and there concealed in the hermitage; but has now been given

back by Don Eugenio Romero to the bishop, to be placed in this new and

beautiful little sanctuary overlooking the Straits, where it will soon be

once more exposed to the veneration of the faithful. The bishop has lately

built another little church below the convent, dedicated to St. Joseph, but

which, from some defect in the materials, has been a very expensive

undertaking.

It was very pleasant to see the simple, hearty, manly devotion of the large

body of Catholic soldiers in the garrison, among whom his influence has had

the happiest effect in checking every kind of dissatisfaction and

drunkenness. His personal influence has doubtless been greatly enhanced by

his conduct during the cholera, when he devoted himself, with his clergy,

to the sick and dying, taking regular turns with them in the administration

of the Last Sacraments, and only claiming as his privilege that of being

the one always called up in the night, so that the others might get some

rest. He has two little rooms adjoining the church, where he remains during

the day, and receives any one who needs his fatherly care.

The Protestant bishop of Gibraltar, a very kind and benevolent man, resides

at Malta, and has a cathedral near the governor's house, lately beautified

by convict labor, and said to be well attended. It is the only Protestant

church in Spain.

{445}

Of the sights of Gibraltar it is needless to speak. Our travellers, in

spite of the weather, which rarely condescended to smile upon them, visited

almost everything: the North Fort, Spanish Lines, and Catalan Bay, one day;

Europa Point, with the cool summer residence of the governor, (sadly in

need of government repair,) and St. Michael's Cave, on the next; and last,

not least, the galleries and heights. From the signal tower the view is

unrivalled; and the aloes, prickly pear, and geranium, springing out of

every cleft in the rock, up which the road is beautifully and skilfully

engineered, add to the enjoyment of the ride. The gentlemen of the party

hunted in the cork woods when the weather would allow of it; and the only

"lion" unseen by them were the monkeys, who resolutely kept in their caves

or on the African side of the water during their stay at Gibraltar. The

garden of the governor's palace is very enjoyable, and contains one of

those wonderful dragon-trees of which the bark is said to bleed when an

incision is made. The white arums grow like a weed in this country, and

form most beautiful bouquets when mixed with scarlet geranium and edged by

their large, bright, shining green leaves.

The time of our travellers was, however, limited, especially as they wished

to spend the Holy Week in Seville. So, after a ten days' stay, reluctantly

giving up the kind offer of the port admiral to take them across to Africa,

and contenting themselves with buying a few Tetuan pots from the Moors at

Gibraltar, they took their passages on board the "London" steamer for

Cadiz.

By permission of the governor, they were allowed to pass through the gates

after gun-fire, and got to the mole; but there, from some mistake, no boat

could be found to take them off to their vessel, and they had the pleasure

of seeing it steam away out of the harbor without them, although their

passages had been paid for, and, as they thought, secured. In despair, shut

out of the town, where a state of siege, for fear of a surprise, is always

rigorously maintained by the English garrison, they at last bribed a little

boat to take them to a Spanish vessel, the "Allegri," likewise bound for

Cadiz, and which was advertised to start an hour later. In getting on board

of her, however, they found she was a wretched tub, heavily laden with

paraffine, among other combustibles, and with no accommodation whatever for

passengers. There was, however, no alternative but going in her or

remaining all night tossing about the harbor in their cockle-shell of a

boat; so they made up their minds to the least of the two evils, and a few

minutes later saw them steaming rapidly out of the harbor toward Cadiz. The

younger portion of the party found a cabin in which they could lie down:

the elder lay on the cordage of the deck, and prayed for a cessation of the

recent fearful storms, the captain having quietly informed them that in the

event of its coming on to blow again he must throw all their luggage

overboard as well as a good deal of his cargo, as he was already too

heavily laden to be safe. However, the night was calm, though very cold,

and the following morning saw them safely rounding the forts of Cadiz, and

staring at its long, low shores. But then a new alarm seized them. The

quarantine officers came on board with a horrible yellow flag, and talked

big about the cholera having reappeared at Alexandria, and the consequent

impossibility of their being able to produce a clean bill of health. The

prospect of spending a week in that miserable vessel, or in the still more

dismal lazaretto on the shore, was anything but agreeable to our

travellers. However, on the assurance of the captain that the only vessel

arrived from Egypt before they left Gibraltar had been instantly put into

quarantine by the governor, they were at last allowed to land in peace, and

found very comfortable rooms at Blanco's hotel, on the promenade, their

windows and balconies looking on the sea.

{446}

In the absence of the bishop, who was gone to Tetuan, Canon L---- kindly

offered his services to show them the curiosities of the town, and took

them first to the Capuchin convent, now converted into a madhouse, in the

church adjoining which are two very fine Murillos: one, "St. Francis

receiving the Stigmata," which, for spirituality of expression, is really

unrivalled; the other, "The Marriage of St. Catherine," which was his

_last_ work, and is unfinished. The great painter fell from the

scaffolding in 1682, and died very soon after, at Seville, in consequence

of the internal injuries he had received. From this convent they proceeded

to the cathedral, which is ugly enough, but where the organ and singing

were admirable. The stalls in the choir, which are beautifully carved, were

stolen from the Cartucha at Seville. There is a spacious crypt under the

high altar, with a curious flat roof, unsupported by any arches or columns,

but at present it is bare and empty. Their guide then took them to see the

workhouse, or "Albergo dei Poveri," an enormous building, which is even

more admirably managed than the one at Madrid. It contains upwards of a

thousand inmates. The boys are all taught different trades, and the girls

every kind of industrial and needle work. The dormitories and washing

arrangements are excellent; and all the walls being lined, up to a certain

height, with the invariable blue and white "azulejos," or glazed tiles,

gives a clean, bright appearance to the whole. The dress of the children

was also striking to English eyes, accustomed to the hideous workhouse

livery at home. On Sundays they have a pretty and varied costume for both

boys and girls, and their little tastes are considered in every way. They

have a large and handsome church, and also a chapel for the children's

daily prayers, which they themselves keep nice and pretty, and ornament

with flowers from their gardens. The whole thing is like a "_home_"

for these poor little orphans, and in painful contrast to the views which

Protestant England takes of charity in her workhouses, where poverty seems

invariably treated as a crime. The children are in a separate wing of the

building--the girls above, the boys below. On the other side are the sick

wards, and those for the old and incurable, where the same minute care for

their comfort and pleasure is observed in every arrangement. Nor is there

that horrible prison atmosphere, and that locking of doors as one passes

through each ward, which jars so painfully on one's heart in going through

an English workhouse. There are very few able bodied paupers; and those are

employed in the work of the house and garden. There is a spacious "patio,"

or court, with an open colonnade of marble columns, running round the

quadrangle, the centre of which is filled with orange-trees and flowers.

This beautiful palace was founded and endowed by the private benevolence of

one man, who dedicated it to St. Helena, in memory of his mother, and

placed in it the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, who have the

entire care of the whole establishment. There are fifteen sisters, all

Spaniards, but affiliated to the French ones, and with the portrait of N.

T. H. Père Etienne in the place of honor in their "parloir" and refectory.

The superior is a most remarkable woman, little and "contrefaite," but with

a soul in her eyes which it is impossible to forget. The institution is now

in the hands of the government, who have wisely not attempted to make any

alterations in the administration. There are upward of fifty of these

Sisters of Charity in Cadiz, they having the sole charge of the hospitals,

schools, workhouses, etc.; and the admirable cleanliness, order, and

comfort in each which is the result, must commend them to the intelligent

approval of every visitor, even should he be unmoved by the evidence of

that unpaid charity which, with its soft finger-touch, stamps all their

works with the very essence of divine love.

{447}

The next day being Palm Sunday, our travellers went to service in the

cathedral. It was very fine, but extremely fatiguing. There are no chairs

or seats in Spanish churches. Every one kneels on the floor the whole time,

not even rising for the Gospel or Creed. On one of the party attempting to

stand up at the long Gospel of the Passion, she was somewhat indignantly

pulled down again by her neighbors. During the sermon, the Spanish women

have a peculiar way of sitting on their heels--a process which they learn

from childhood, but which to strangers is an almost intolerable penance.

Here, as everywhere in Spain, the hideous fashion of bonnets or hats was

unknown, and the universal black mantilla, with its graceful folds and

modest covering of the face, and the absence of all colors to distract

attention in the house of God, made our English ladies sigh more eagerly

than ever for a similar reverent and decent fashion to be adopted at home.

On returning for the vesper service in the afternoon, a beautiful, and, to

them, novel, custom was observed. At the singing of the "Vexilla Regis,"

the canons, in long black robes, knelt prostrate in a semicircle before the

high altar, and were covered by a black flag with a red cross. This they

saw repeated daily during the Passion Week services at Seville. In the

evening there was a magnificent benediction and processional service round

the cloisters of the church called "Delle Scalze." It was impossible to

imagine anything more picturesque than the multitude kneeling in the open

"patio," or court, shaded by orange-trees, and full of beautiful flowers,

while round the arches swept the gorgeous procession carrying the Host, the

choir and people singing alternate verses of the "Lauda Sion," the curling

smoke of the incense reflecting prismatic colors in the bright sunshine,

and the whole procession finally disappearing in the sombre, dark old

church, of which the centre doors had been thrown wide open to receive it.

One longed only for Roberts's paint-brush to depict the scene. Returning to

their hotel, our party found the Alameda gay with holiday folk, and full of

the ladies whose beauty and charm have been the pride of Cadiz for so many

generations. Do not let our readers think it invidious if we venture on the

opinion that their beautiful and becoming dress has a great deal to do with

this, just as, in the East, every turbaned Turk or burnoused Arab would

make a perfect picture. Dress your Oriental in one of Poole's best-fitting

coats and trousers, and give him a chimney-pot hat, and where would be his

beauty? In the same way, if--which good taste forefend--the Spanish ladies

come to imagine that a bonnet stuck on the back of the head, and every

color in the rainbow, is prettier than the flowing black robe and softly

folded lace mantilla, shading modestly their bright dark eyes and hair,

they will find, to their cost, that their charm has vanished for ever.

Nothing more remained to be seen or done in Cadiz but to purchase some of

the beautiful mats which are its great industry, and which are made of a

flat reed or "junco," growing in the neighborhood; and these the kind and,

good-natured English consul undertook to forward to them, when ready, to

England.

Seville.

Armed with sundry letters of introduction sent them from Madrid, our

travellers started by early train for Seville, the amiable Canon L----

having given them a five o'clock mass before starting, in his interesting

old circular church dedicated to S. Filippo Neri, he being one of the

Oratorians. They passed by Xeres, famous for its sherry cellars, called

"bodegas," supplying more wine to England than to all the rest of the world

put together, and for its Carthusian convent, once remarkable for its

Zurbaran pictures, the greater portion of which have now followed the

sherry to the British Isles; then by Alcalà, noted for its delicious bread,

with which it supplies the whole of Seville; for its Moorish castle and

beautiful river Aira, the waters of which, after flowing round the walls of

the little town, are carried by an aqueduct to Seville; and so on and on,

through orange and olive groves, and wheat plains, and vineyards, till the

train brought them by mid-day to the wonderful and beautiful city which had

been the main object of their Spanish tour.

{448}

The saying is strictly true:

Quien no ha visto Sevilla,

No ha visto maravilla.

Scarcely had they set foot in their comfortable hotel, the "Fonda de

Londres," when an obliging aide-de-camp of the Spanish general came to tell

them that, if they wanted to see the Alcazar, they must go with him at

once, as the infanta, who had married the sister of the king's consort, was

expected with his wife to occupy the palace that evening, when it would

naturally be closed to visitors. Dusty, dirty, and hot as they were,

therefore, they at once sallied forth with their kind cicerone and the

English consul for this fairy palace of the Moors. Entering by the Plaza

del Triunfo, under an arched gateway, where hangs, day and night, a lamp

throwing its soft light on the beautiful little picture of the Virgin and

Child, they came into a long court, in the midst of which are orange-trees

and fountains, and this again led them by a side door into the inner court

or "patio" of the palace.

Like the Alhambra, it is an exquisite succession of delicate columns, with

beautifully carved capitals, walls, and balconies, which look as if worked

in Mechlin lace; charmingly cool "patios," with marble floors and

fountains; doors whose geometrical patterns defy the patience of the

painter; horse-shoe arches, with edges fringed like guipure; fretted

ceilings, the arabesques of which are painted in the most harmonious

colors, and tipped with gold; lattices every one of which seems to tell of

a romance of beauty and of love: such are these moresque creations,

unrivalled in modern art, and before which our most beautiful nineteenth

century palaces sink into coarse and commonplace buildings. They are the

realization of the descriptions in the "Arabian Nights," and the exquisite

delicacy of the work is not its sole charm. The _proportions_ of every

room, of every staircase, of every door and window, are perfect: nothing

offends the eye by being too short or too wide. In point of sound, also,

they, as well as the Romans, knew the secret which our modern builders have

lost; and in harmony of color, no "azulejos" of the present day can

approach the beauty and brilliancy of the Moorish tints. Nor are historical

romances wanting to enhance the interest of this wonderful place. In the

bed-chamber of the king, Pedro the Cruel, are painted three dead heads, and

thereon hangs a tale of savage justice. The king overheard three of his

judges combining to give a false judgment in a certain case about which

they had been bribed, and then quarrel about their respective shares of

their ill gotten spoils. He suddenly appeared before them, and causing them

to be instantly beheaded, placed their heads in the niches where now the

paintings perpetuate the remembrance of the punishment. Less excusable was

another tragedy enacted within these walls, in the assassination of the

brother of king, who had been invited as a guest and came unsuspicious of

treachery. A deep red stain of blood in the marble floor still marks the

spot of the murder. Well may Spain's most popular modern poet, the Duque de

Rivas, in his beautiful poem, exclaim:

"Ann en las losas se mira

Una tenaz mancha oscura; ...

Ni las edades la limpian! ...

Sangre! sangre! Oh cielos! cuantos,

Sin saber que lo es, la pisan!" [Footnote 141]

[Footnote 141:

"One still sees on the pavement a dark

spot--the lapse of ages has not effaced it!

Blood! blood! O Heaven! how many tread

it under foot without knowing it!"]

{449}

The gardens adjoining the palace are quaintly beautiful, the borders edged

with myrtle and box, cut low and thick, with terraces and fountains, and

kiosks, and, "surprises" of "jets d'eau," and arched walls festooned with

beautiful hanging creepers, and a "luxe" of oriental vegetation. On one

side are the white marble baths, cool and sombre, where the beautiful Maria

de Padilla forgot the heat and glare of the Seville sun. It was the custom

of the courtiers in her day to _drink_ the water in which the ladies

had bathed. Pedro the Cruel reproached one of his knights for not complying

with this custom. "Sire," he replied, "I should fear lest, having tasted

the sauce, I should covet the bird!"

The Alcazar formerly extended far beyond its present limits; but the ruined

towers by the water-side are all that now remain to mark the course of the

old walls.

Our travellers could not resist one walk through the matchless cathedral on

their way home; but reserved their real visit to that and to the Giralda

till the following day. The kind Regente de la Audiencia and his wife, to

whom they had brought letters of introduction, came to them in the evening,

and arranged various expeditions for the ensuing week.

Early the next morning the Countess L---- de R---- came to fetch one of the

party to the church of S. Felipe Neri, which, like all the churches of the

Oratorians, is beautifully decorated, and most devout and reverent in its

services. It is no easy matter to go on wheels in the streets of Seville.

There are but two or three streets in which a carriage can go at all, or

attempt to turn; and so to arrive at any given place, it is generally

necessary to make the circuit of half the town. In addition to this, the

so-called pavement, angular, pointed, and broken, shakes every bone in

one's body. To reach their destination on this particular morning, our

friends had to traverse the market place, and make an immense _détour_

through various squares, passing meanwhile by several very interesting

churches; but it was all so much gain to the stranger.

After mass, one of the fathers, who spoke English, kindly showed them the

treasures of his church, and amongst other things a beautiful silver-chased

chapel behind the high altar, containing some exquisite bénitières,

crucifixes, and relics. The wooden crucifixes of Spain, mostly carved by

great men, such as Alonso Caño or Montanés, are quite wonderful in beauty

and force of expression; but they are very difficult to obtain. They have a

pretty custom in this church of offering two turtle doves in a pure white

basket when a child is devoted to the Blessed Virgin, which are left on the

altar, as in the old days of the Purification, and the white basket is

afterward laid up in the chapel. After breakfast the whole party arrived at

the cathedral. How describe this wonderful building! To say it is such and

such a height, and such and such a width, that it has so many columns, and

so many chapels, and so many doors, and so many windows. ... Why, Murray

has done that far better than any one else! But to understand the cathedral

at Seville, you must know it; you must feel it; you must live in it; you

must see it at the moment of the setting sun, when the light streams in

golden showers through those wonderful painted glass windows, (those

_chefs d'oeuvre_ of Arnold of Flanders,) jewelling the curling smoke

of the incense still hanging round the choir; or else go there in the dim

twilight, when the aisles seem to lengthen out into infinite space, and the

only bright spot is from the ever-burning silver lamps which hang before

the tabernacle.

One of the party, certainly not given to admiration of either churches or

Catholicity, exclaimed on leaving it: "It is a place where I could not help

saying my prayers!" The good-natured Canon P---- showed them all the

treasures and pictures. They are too numerous to describe in detail; but

some leave an indelible impression. Among these is Murillo's wonderful St.

Antony, in the baptistery; Alonso Caño's delicious little Virgin and Child,

(called Nuestra Señora de Belem;) Morales's Dead Christ;

{450}

a very curious old Byzantine picture of the Virgin; and in the sacristy,

the exquisite portraits by Murillo of St. Leander, archbishop of Seville,

the great reformer of the Spanish liturgy, whose bones rest in a silver

coffin in the Capilla Real, and of St. Isadore, his brother, who succeeded

him in the see, called the "Excellent Doctor," and whose body rests at

Leon. Here also is a wonderful "Descent from the Cross," by Campana, before

which Murillo used to sit, and say "he waited till he was taken down;" and

here, by his own particular wish, the great painter is buried. There is,

besides, a fine portrait of St. Teresa; and round the handsome chapter-room

are a whole series of beautiful oval portraits by Murillo, and also one of

his best "Conceptions." Among the treasures is the cross made from the gold

which Christopher Columbus brought home from America, and presented to the

king; the keys of the town given up to Ferdinand by the Moorish king at the

conquest of Seville; two beautiful ostensorios of the fifteenth century,

covered with precious stones and magnificent pearls; beautiful Cinquecento

reliquaries presented by different popes; finely illuminated missals in

admirable preservation; an exquisitely carved ivory crucifix; wonderful

vestments, heavy with embroidery and seed-pearls; the crown of King

Ferdinand; and last, not least, a magnificent tabernacle altar-front,

angels and candle-sticks, all in solid silver, beautiful in workmanship and

design, used for Corpus Christi, and other solemn feasts of the Blessed

Sacrament. One asks one's self very often: "How came all these treasures to

escape the rapacity of the French spoilers?"

The Royal Chapel contains the body of St. Ferdinand, the pious conqueror of

Seville, which town, as well as Cordova, he rescued from the hands of the

Moors, after it had been in their possession five hundred and twenty-four

years. This pious king, son to Alphonse, king of Leon, bore witness by his

conduct to the truth of his words on going into battle: "Thou, O Lord! who

searchest the hearts of men, knowest that I desire but thy glory, and not

mine." To his saint-like mother, Berangera, he owed all the good and holy

impressions of his life. He helped to build the cathedral of Toledo, of

which he laid the first stone, and, in the midst of the splendors of the

court, led a most ascetic and penitential life. Seville surrendered to him

in 1249, after a siege of sixteen months, on which occasion the Moorish

general exclaimed that "only a saint who, by his justice and piety, had won

heaven over to his interest, could have taken so strong a city with so

small an army." By the archbishop's permission, the body of the saint was

exposed for our travellers. It is in a magnificent silver shrine; and the

features still retain a remarkable resemblance to his portraits. His

banner, crown, and sword were likewise shown to them, and the little ivory

Virgin which he always fastened to the front of his saddle when going to

battle. The cedar coffin still remains in which his body rested previous to

its removal to this more gorgeous shrine. On the three days in the year

when his body is exposed, the troops all attend the mass, and lower their

arms and colors to the great Christian conqueror. A little staircase at the

back of the tomb brings you down into a tiny crypt, where, arranged on

shelves, are the coffins of the beautiful Maria Padilla, of Pedro the

Cruel, and of their two sons: latterly, those of the children of the Duc

and Duchesse de Montpensier have been added. Over the altar of the chapel

above hangs a very curious wooden statue of the Virgin, given to St.

Ferdinand by the good king Louis of France. King Ferdinand adorned her with

a crown of emeralds and a stomacher of diamonds, belonging to his mother,

on condition that they should never be removed from the image.

{451}

The organs are among the wonders of this cathedral, with their thousands of

pipes, placed horizontally, in a fan-like shape. The "retablo" at the back

of the high altar is a marvel of wood-carving; and the hundreds of lamps

which burn before the different shrines are all of pure and massive silver.

One is tempted to ask: "Was it by men and women like ourselves that

cathedrals such as this were planned and built and furnished?" The chapter

who undertook it are said to have deprived themselves even of the

necessaries of life to erect a basilica worthy of the name; and in this

spirit of voluntary poverty and self-abnegation was it begun and completed.

Never was there a moment when money was so plentiful in England as now, yet

where will a cathedral be found built since the fifteenth century?

At the west end lies Fernando, son of the great Christopher Columbus, who

himself died at Valladolid, and is said to rest in the Havana. The motto on

the tomb is simple but touching:

A Castilla y á Leon,

mundo nuevo dió Colon.

Over this stone, during holy week, is placed the "monumento," an enormous

tabernacle, more than 100 feet high, which is erected to contain the sacred

host on Holy Thursday: when lighted up, with the magnificent silver

custodia, massive silver candlesticks, and a profusion of flowers and

candles, it forms a "sepulchre" unequalled in the world for beauty and

splendor.

Passing at last under the Moorish arch toward the north-east end of the

cathedral, our travellers found themselves in a beautiful cloistered

"patio," full of orange-trees in full blossom, with a magnificent fountain

in the centre. In one corner is the old stone pulpit from which St. Vincent

Ferrer, St. John of Avila, and other saints preached to the people: an

inscription records the fact. Over the beautiful door which leads into the

cathedral hang various curious emblems: a horn, a crocodile, a rod, and a

bit, said to represent plenty, prudence, justice, and temperance. To the

left is the staircase leading to the Columbine library, given by Fernando,

and containing some very interesting MSS. of Christopher Columbus. One book

is full of quotations, in his own handwriting, from the Psalms and the

Prophets, proving the existence of the New World; another is a plan of the

globe and of the zodiac drawn out by him. There is also a universal

history, with copious notes, in the same bold, clear, fine handwriting; and

a series of his letters to the king, written in Latin. Above the

bookshelves are a succession of curious portraits, including those of

Christopher Columbus and his son Fernando, which were given by Louis

Philippe to the library; of Velasquez; of Cardinal Mendoza; of S. Fernando,

by Murillo; and of our own Cardinal Wiseman, who, a native of Seville, is

held in the greatest love and veneration here. A touching little account of

his life and death has lately been published in Seville by the talented

Spanish author, Don Leon Carbonero y Sol, with the appropriate heading,

"Sicut vita finis ita." Our party were also shown the sword of Fernand

Gonsalves, a fine two-edged blade, which did good service in rescuing

Seville from the Moors.

Redescending the stairs, our travellers mounted the beautiful Moorish tower

of the Giralda, built in the twelfth century by Abu Yusuf Yacub, who was

also the constructor of the bridge of boats across the Guadalquiver. This

tower forms the great feature in every view of Seville, and is matchless

both from its rich yellow and red-brown color, its sunken Moorish

decorations, and the extreme beauty of its proportions. It was originally

250 feet high, and built as a minaret, from whence the muezzin summoned the

faithful to prayers in the mosque hard by; but Ferdinand Riaz added another

100 feet, and, fortunately, in perfect harmony with the original design. He

girdled it with a motto from Proverbs xviii.: "Nomen Domini fortissima

turris."

{452}

The ascent is very easy, being by ramps sloping gently upward. The Giralda

is under the special patronage of SS. Justina and Rufina, daughters of a

potter in the town, who suffered martyrdom in 304 for refusing to sell

their vessels for the use of the heathen sacrifices. Sta. Justina expired

on the rack, while Sta. Rufina was strangled. The figure which crowns the

tower is that of Faith, and is in bronze, and beautifully carved.

The bells are very fine in tone; but what repays one for the ascent is the

view, not only over the whole town and neighborhood, but over the whole

body of the huge cathedral, with its forest of pinnacles and its

wonderfully constructed roof, which looks massive enough to outlast the

world. The delicate Gothic balustrades are the home of a multitude of

hawks, (the _Falco tinunculoides_,) who career round and round the

beautiful tower, and are looked upon almost as sacred birds.

The thing which strikes one most in the look of the town from hence is the

absence of streets. From their excessive narrowness, they are invisible at

this great height, and the houses seem all massed together, without any

means of egress or ingress. The view of the setting sun from this tower is

a thing never to be forgotten; nor the effect of it lit up at night, when

it seems to hang like a brilliant chandelier from the dark blue vault

above.

Tired as our travellers were, they could not resist one short visit that

afternoon to the Museum, and to that wonderful little room below, which

contains a few pictures only, but those few unrivalled in the world.

Here, indeed, one sees what Murillo could do. The "St. Thomas of

Villanueva," giving alms to the beggar, (called by the painter himself his

_own_ picture;) the "St. Francis" embracing the crucified Saviour; the

"St. Antony," with a lily in adoration before the infant Jesus; the

"Nativity;" the "San Felix de Cantalicia," holding the infant Saviour in

his arms, which the blessed Virgin is coming down to receive; the "SS.

Rufina and Justina;" and last, not least, the Virgin, which earned him the

title of "El Pintor de las Concepciones." Each and all are matchless in

taste, in expression, in feeling; above all, in devotion. It is impossible

to meditate on any one of these mysteries in our blessed Lord's life

without the recollection of one of these pictures rising up instantly in

one's mind, as the purest embodiment of the love, or the adoration, or the

compunction, which such meditations are meant to call forth; they are in

themselves a prayer.

In the evening one of the party went with the regent to call on the

venerable cardinal archbishop, whose fine palace is exactly opposite the

east front of the cathedral. It was very sad to wind up that fine

staircase, and see him in that noble room, groping his way, holding on by

the wall, for he is quite blind. It is hoped, however, that an operation

for cataract, which is contemplated, may be successful. He was most kind,

and gave the English stranger a place in the choir of the cathedral for the

processional services of the holy week and Easter--a great favor, generally

only accorded to royalty, and of which the lady did not fail to take

advantage. M. Leon Carbonero y Sol, the author and clever editor of the

"Crux," paid them a visit that evening. By his energy and perseverance this

monthly periodical has been started at Seville, which is an event in this

non-literary country; and he has written several works, both biographical

and devotional, which deserve a wider reputation than they have yet

obtained.

The following, day, being Wednesday in holy week, the whole party returned

to the cathedral, to see the impressive and beautiful ceremony of the

Rending of the White Veil, and the "Rocks being rent," at the moment when

that passage is chanted in the Gospel of the Passion. The effect was very

fine; and all the more from the sombre light of the cathedral, every window

in which was shaded by black curtains, and every picture and image shrouded

in black. [Footnote 142]

[Footnote 142: Faber says very beautifully: "Passion-tide veils the

face of the crucifix, only that it may be more vivid in our hearts."]

{453}

At vespers, the canons, as at Cadiz, knelt prostrate before the altar, and

were covered with a black red-cross flag. At four o'clock our travellers

went to the Audiencia, where the regent and his kind wife had given them

all seats to see the processions. How are these to be described? They are

certainly appreciated by the people themselves; but they are not suited to

English taste, especially in the glare of a Seville sun: and unless

representations of the terrible and awful events connected with our Lord's

passion be depicted with the skill of a great artist, they become simply

intensely painful. The thing which was touching and beautiful was the

orderly arrangement of the processions themselves, and the way in which men

of the highest rank, of royal blood, and of the noblest orders, did not

hesitate to walk for hours through the dusty, crowded, burning streets for

three successive days, with the sole motive of doing honor to their Lord,

whose badge they wore.

The processions invariably ended by passing through the cathedral and

stopping for some minutes in the open space between the high altar and the

choir. The effect of the brilliant mass of light thrown by thousands of wax

tapers, as the great unwieldy catafalque was borne through the profound

darkness of the long aisles, was beautiful in the extreme; and

representations which looked gaudy in the sunshine were mellowed and

softened by the contrast with the night. The best were "The Sacred

Infancy," the "Bearing of the Cross," and the "Descent from the Cross." In

all, the figures were the size of life, and these three were beautifully

and naturally designed. Less pleasing to English eyes, in spite of their

wonderful splendor, were those of the blessed Virgin, decked out in

gorgeous velvet robes, embroidered in gold, and covered with jewels, with

lace pocket-handkerchiefs in the hand, and all the paraphernalia of a fine

lady of the nineteenth century! It is contrary to our purer taste, which

thinks of her as represented in one of Raphael's chaste and modest

pictures, with the simple robe and headdress of her land and people; or

else in the glistening white marble, chosen by our late beloved cardinal as

the fittest material for a representation of her in his "Ex Voto," and

which speaks of the spotless purity of her holy life. Leaving the house of

the regent, the party made their way with difficulty through the dense

crowd to the cathedral, where the Tenebrae began, followed by the Miserere,

beautifully and touchingly sung, without any organ accompaniments, at the

high altar. It was as if the priests were pleading for their people's sins

before the throne of God. The next day was spent altogether in these solemn

holy Thursday services. After early communion at the fine church of S.

Maria Magdalena, thronged, like all the rest, with devout worshippers, our

party went to high mass at the cathedral, after which the blessed

sacrament, according to custom, was carried to the gigantic "monumento." or

sepulchre, before mentioned, erected at the west door of the cathedral, and

dazzling with light. Then came the "Cena" in the archbishop's palace, at

which his blindness prevented his officiating; and then our travellers went

round the town to visit the "sepulchres" in the different churches, one

more beautiful than the other, and thronged with such kneeling crowds that

going from one to the other was a matter of no small difficulty. The heat

also increased the fatigue; and here, as at Palermo, no carriages are

allowed from holy Thursday till Easter day: every one must perform these

pious pilgrimages on foot. At half past two, they went back to the

cathedral for the washing of the feet. An eloquent sermon followed, and

then began the Tenebrae and the Miserere as before, with the entry of the

processions between: the whole lasted till half-past eleven at night.

{454}

Good Friday was as solemn as the same day is at Rome or at Jerusalem. The

adoration of the cross in the cathedral was very fine: but women were not

allowed to kiss it as in the Holy City. After that was over, some of the

party, by the kind invitation of the Duc and Duchesse de Montpensier, went

to their private chapel, at St. Elmo, for the "Tre Ore d'Agonic," being

from twelve to three o'clock, or the hours when our Saviour hung upon the

cross. It was a most striking and impressive service. The beautiful chapel

was entirely hung with black, and pitch dark. On entering, it was

impossible to see one's way among the kneeling figures on the floor, all,

of course, in deep mourning. The sole light was very powerfully thrown on a

most beautiful picture of the crucifixion, in which the figures were the

size of life. The sermon, or rather meditation on the seven words of our

Lord on the cross, was preached by the superior of the oratory of S.

Felippo Neri, a man of great eloquence and personal holiness. It would be

impossible to exaggerate the beauty and pathos of two of these meditations;

the one on the charity of our blessed Lord, the other on his desolation. A

long low sob burst from the hearts of his hearers at the conclusion of the

latter. The wailing minor music between was equally beautiful and

appropriate; it was as the lament of the angels over the lost, in spite of

the tremendous sacrifice! At half-past three, the party returned to the

cathedral, where the services lasted till nine in the evening, and then

came home in the state of mind and feeling so wonderfully represented by De

la Roche, in the last portion of his "Good Friday" picture. Beautifully

does Faber exclaim: "The hearts of the saints, like sea-shells, murmur of

the passion evermore."

The holy Saturday functions began soon after five the next morning, and

were as admirably conducted as all the rest. Immense praise was due to the

"maestro de ceremonias," who had arranged services so varied and so

complicated with such perfect order and precision: and the conduct of the

black-veiled kneeling multitude throughout was equally admirable; one and

all seemed absorbed by the devotions of the time and season.

That evening, the Vigil of Easter was spent in the cathedral by some of our

party in much the same manner as they had done on a preceding one in the

Holy City two years before. The night was lovely. The moon was streaming

through the cloisters on the orange-trees of the beautiful "patio," across

which the Giralda threw a deep sharp shadow, the silver light catching the

tips of the arches, and shining with almost startling brightness on the

"Pietà" in the little wayside chapel at the south entrance of the court.

All spoke of beauty, and of peace, and of rest, and of stillness, and of

the majesty of God. Inside the church were groups of black or veiled

figures, mostly women, (were not women the first at the sepulchre?)

kneeling before the tabernacle, or by the little lamps burning here and

there in the side chapels. Each heart was pouring forth its secret burden

of sorrow or of sin into the sacred heart which had been so lately pierced

to receive it. At two in the morning matins began, "Haec dies quam fecit

Dominus;" and after matins a magnificent Te Deum, pealed forth by those

gigantic organs, and sung by the whole strength of the choir and by the

whole body of voices of the crowd, which by that time had filled every

available kneeling space in the vast cathedral. Then came a procession; all

the choristers in red cassocks, with white cottas and little gold diadems.

High mass followed, and then low masses at all the side altars, with

hundreds of communicants, and the Russian salutation of "Christ is risen!"

on every tongue. It was "a night to be remembered," as indeed was all this

holy week: and now people seemed too happy to speak; joy says short words

and few ones.

{455}

Many have asked: "Is it equal to Jerusalem or Rome?" In point of services,

"Yes;" in point of interest, "No;" for the presence of the Holy Father in

the one place, and the vividness of recollection which the actual scenes of

our blessed Lord's passion inspires in the other, must ever make the holy

and eternal cities things apart and sacred from all besides. But nowhere

else can "fonctions" be seen in such perfection or with such solemnity as

at Seville. Everything is reverently and well done, and nothing has changed

in the ceremonial for the last three hundred years.

A domestic sorrow had closed the palace of the Duc and Duchesse de

Montpensier as far as their receptions were concerned; but they kindly gave

our party permission to see both house and gardens, which well deserve a

visit. The palace itself reminded them a little of the Duc d'Aumale's at

Twickenham: not in point of architecture, but in its beautiful and

interesting contents; in its choice collections of pictures, and books, and

works of art, and in the general tone which pervaded the whole. There are

two exquisite Murillos; a "St. Joseph" and a "Holy Family;" a "Divino

Morales;" a "Pieta;" some beautiful "Zurbarans;" and some very clever and

characteristic sketches by Goya. They have some curious historical

portraits also, and some very pretty modern pictures. The rooms and

passages abound in beautiful cabinets, rare china, sets of armor, African

trappings, and oriental costumes. In the snug low rooms looking on the

garden, and reminding one of Sion or of Chiswick, there are little

fountains in the centre of each, combining oriental luxury and freshness

with European comfort. The gardens are delicious. They contain a

magnificent specimen of the "palma regis," and quantities of rare and

beautiful shrubs; also an aviary of curious and scarce birds. You wander

for ever through groves of orange, and palms, and aloes, and under

trellises covered with luxuriant creepers and clustering roses, with a

feeling of something like envy at the climate, which seems to produce

everything with comparatively little trouble or culture. To be sure there

is "le revers de la médaille," when the scorching July sun has burnt up all

this lovely vegetation. But the spring in the garden of St. Elmo is a thing

to dream about.

From this enjoyable palace our party went on to visit "Pilate's House," so

called because built by Don Enrique de Ribera, of the exact proportions of

the original, in commemoration of his pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1519. It

is now the property of the Duque de Medina Sidonia. Passing into a cool

"patio," you see a black cross, marking the first of the stations of a very

famous Via Crucis, which begins here and ends at the Cruz del Campo outside

the town. There is a pretty little chapel opening out of the "patio,"

ornamented with Alhambra work, as is all the rest of this lovely little

moresque palace. It is a thorough bit of Damascus, with its wonderful

arabesqued ceilings, and lace-like carvings on the walls and staircases,

and cloistered "patios," and marble floors and fountains. Behind is a

little garden full of palms, orange-trees, and roses in full flower, and,

at the time our travellers saw it, carpeted with Neapolitan violets; quaint

low hedges, as in the Alcazar gardens, divided the beds, and broken

sculpture lay here and there.

One of the great treasures of Seville had yet been unvisited by our party,

and that was the Lonja, formerly the Exchange, a noble work of Herrera's.

It stands between the cathedral and the Alcazar, and is built in the shape

of a great quadrangle, each side being about two hundred feet wide.

Ascending the fine marble staircase, they came to the long "sala"

containing the famous "Indian Archives," that is, all the letters and

papers concerning the discovery of South America.

{456}

There are thousands of MS. letters, beautifully arranged and docketed; and

among them the autographs of Fernando Cortes, Pizarro, Magellan, Americo

Vespuzio, (who could not write his own name, and signed with a mark,) Fra

Bartolomeo de las Cazas, and many others. There is also the original bull

of the pope, granting the new South American discoveries to the Spaniards;

and another, defining the rights between the Spaniards and the Portuguese

in the matter of the conquered lands. The librarian, a very intelligent and

good-natured personage, also showed them a curious list, sent home and

signed by Fernando Cortes, of the silks, painted calabashes, feathers, and

costumes presented by him to the king; and a quantity of autograph letters

of Charles V., Ferdinand and Isabella, and of Philip IV. Fernando Cortes

died at Castilleja, on December 3, 1547, and the following day his body was

transported to the family vault of the Duque de Medina Sidonia, in the

monastery of San Isidoro del Campo. The Duc de Montpensier has purchased

the house, and made a collection of everything belonging to the great

discoverer, including his books, his letters, various objects of natural

history, and some very curious portraits, not only of Cortes himself, but

of Christopher Columbus, Pizarro, Magellan, the Marques del Valle, (of the

Sicilian family of Monteleone,) Bernal Diaz, Velasquez, of the historian of

the conquest of Mexico, Don Antonio Solis, and many others.

In the afternoon, the Marques de P---- called for our travellers to take

them to the university, and to introduce them to the rector and to the

librarian, whose name was the well-deserved one of Don José Bueno, a most

clever and agreeable man, whose pure Castilian accent made his Spanish

perfectly intelligible to his English visitors. He very good-naturedly

undertook to show them all the most interesting MSS. himself, together with

some beautiful missals, rare first editions of various classical works, and

some very clever etchings of Goya's of bull-fights and ladies--the latter

of doubtful propriety. In the church belonging to the university are some

fine pictures by Roelas and Alonso Cafio, some beautiful carvings by

Montanés, and several very fine monuments. In the rector's own room is a

magnificent "St. Jerome," by Lucas Kranach, the finest work of that artist

that exists. There are 1,200 students in this university, which rivals that

of Salamanca in importance.

Taking leave of the kind librarian, the Marques de P---- went on to show

them a private collection of pictures belonging to the Marques Cessera.

Amidst a quantity of rubbish were a magnificent "Crucifixion," by Alonso

Caño; a Crucifix, painted on wood, by Murillo, for an infirmary, and

concealed by a Franciscan during the French occupation in 1812; a Zurbaran,

with his own signature in the corner; and, above all, a "Christ bound with

the Crown of Thorns," by Murillo, which is the gem of the whole collection,

and perfectly beautiful both in coloring and expression.

Coming home, they went to see the house to which Murillo was taken after

his accident at Cadiz, and where he finally died; also the site of his

original burial, before his body was removed to the cathedral where it now

rests.