of the Greek schism rests. It was not, we repeat it, a contest for
supremacy. New Rome had never even claimed equality with the see
of Peter. Its bishops had never asked but the second place. Could
Photius have obtained the confirmation of his election from the pope,
it is probable he never would have rushed into schism. It has been
said that St. Nicholas was too harsh with him. But had the pontiff
neglected to do justice to St. Ignatius, the very writers who now
criticise him for severity, would have blamed him with culpable
weakness. Indeed, John VIII. has met with such censure. But how
did Photius repay his kindness? By fraud, by the grossest insult
to his predecessors, and to an oecumenical council. It is useless
to speak of the erudition of the usurper, or of his services to
literature. These, great though they be, cannot palliate his crimes.
The popes defended oppressed virtue and the canons of the church;
Photius, having failed to deceive, seduce, or intimidate them, was
driven to the desperate resort of schism. A sceptic like Gibbon may
indeed scoff at the whole dispute; but he who believes that Christ
established a church and appointed a certain form of government, must
shudder as he reads of the fatal action of one man, who, to gratify
his unhallowed ambition, began a schism which has ended in the ruin
of some of the fairest portions of Christendom. It is all very well
in the nineteenth century to talk of independent national churches;
the idea was unheard of in the ninth. Else why did Photius so
persistently endeavor to obtain the confirmation of his election from
the pope? His own action condemns him; the whole history of the Greek
Church condemns him; and the modern Greeks, who are such sticklers
for antiquity, stand equally condemned.
The question of jurisdiction over Bulgaria has been magnified by
some writers into a cause of the schism. But the fact that Ignatius
is revered as a saint by the church, though up to the time of his
death he defended the supposed rights of his see in this regard,
shows that, important though the controversy doubtless was, it
could not have caused a separation. The popes would, at most, have
contented themselves with protesting against the usurpation, as they
had done in other cases. The ancient Illyricum, of which Bulgaria
is a part, undoubtedly belonged to the Roman patriarchate. So did
Achaia. Both were transferred to that of Constantinople by a decree
of the Iconoclast emperor, Leo the Isaurian, in revenge for the
condemnation of his heresy by the holy see. And these historical
facts have been alleged by the schismatic bishops of modern Greece to
justify their forming themselves into a national church, independent
of the patriarch of Constantinople. Says one of their defenders, "An
heretical emperor took away these dioceses from an orthodox pope
to give them to a patriarch who was a heretic like himself."[179]
The Bulgarian monarch sent, almost at the same time, ambassadors to
the pope and to the Byzantine emperor, asking for missionaries to
instruct himself and his people in the Christian faith. Those sent
from Rome arrived first on the ground; but the secular influence
of Constantinople was too great for them, and they were sent back.
Of course, the popes protested against this outrage against--be
it carefully observed--not their primatial, but their patriarchal
rights; but there is no reason to suppose the controversy could
have given rise to schism. The moderation of the pontiffs on such
questions, recorded on every page of their history, is our warrant
for this assertion. It was only when some primary law of the
church was violated, some gross injustice against innocent persons
committed, or their own supremacy defied, that they felt themselves
obliged to resort to measures of the last severity.
Photius was finally deposed in the year 866. From that event for more
than a century there was peace between old and new Rome. At length
one of the family of the usurper, Sergius, was elevated to the see
of Constantinople, (A.D. 988.) He held a council, excommunicated the
popes, and erased their names from the sacred records. This outrage
must never have reached the ears of the holy see. At least, we find
no vestige of any action taken by the popes concerning it. Sergius
was succeeded, in 1018, by Eustachius, who applied to Pope John XIX.
for permission to adopt the title of _oecumenical patriarch_. The
request being refused by the pontiff, his name was omitted from the
_diptychs_ by the indignant prelate. He was succeeded by Alexius,
about whose attitude to the holy see we can discover nothing in the
records of the age. In the year 1034, Michael Cerularius was made
bishop of New Rome. Profane as well as sacred historians represent
him as a proud, ambitious, and turbulent person. He determined
formally to revive the schism inaugurated by Photius. His principal
accomplices were Leo of Acrida, Metropolitan of Bulgaria, and one
Nicholas, a monk. They issued a letter directed to John, Bishop of
Trani, in southern Italy, giving their reasons why they no longer
wished to hold communion with the Western Church, and addressed a
letter of similar import to the patriarchs of the east. Most of
these reasons are so puerile that in reading them one would be
tempted to smile, were it not for the thought that they were used to
create a deadly schism. Such were the charges: that the Latins used
unleavened bread in the holy sacrifice; that they did not abstain
from "strangled things and blood;" that their monks ate swine flesh;
that their priests shaved off their beards; that they did not sing
_Alleluia_ during Lent; that they gave the _pax_ before the communion
at mass; that their bishops wore a ring. In the long arraignment
there is but one accusation that the most prejudiced enemy of the
holy see can call serious, namely, that of the addition of the
_filioque_ to the symbol. As to this, we shall content ourselves
by relating afterward how it was met, and the controversy about it
settled, in the Council of Florence.
St. Leo IX., who then occupied the holy see, having been made
acquainted with the contents of the letter of Cerularius, wrote a
long and able answer, in which he offered peace to all who were
really lovers of peace, based, however, on the unity of the church
and the primacy of the Roman see. Cerularius asked him to send
legates to Constantinople to settle the pending difficulties. The
pope acquiesced, and sent two cardinals, Humbert and Frederic,
and the Archbishop of Amalfi. Cerularius not only refused to meet
them, but endeavored to prevent them from celebrating the sacred
mysteries in any of the churches of Constantinople. The legates
having repeatedly warned him, were obliged to excommunicate him in
the church of St. Sophia. He, in turn, excommunicated the Roman
pontiff, and wrote letters to the patriarchs of the great eastern
sees with the object of drawing them into the schism. The answer of
the Patriarch of Antioch alone has been preserved. He defends the
Latins from many of the charges raised by Cerularius, while he admits
some to be true; but he refuses to join the wrong-headed bishop of
New Rome in his schism.
Most historians date from this period the definitive separation of
the Greek Church from that of Rome. It would be easy, however, to
show that communication was occasionally kept up during the rest of
the eleventh and a portion of the twelfth centuries. Practically,
however, it may be said that Cerularius separated new and old Rome,
especially as the Greeks ever after held to two points he had raised
against the Western Church--the addition of _filioque_ to the symbol,
and the use of unleavened bread in the holy sacrifice.
There were, doubtless, other causes than these which rendered
this great schism so easy of accomplishment. The ambition of the
bishops of Constantinople led them to be always on the lookout for
a plausible pretext for a quarrel with Rome. Then the Greeks felt
deeply two great changes in Europe--the loss of their dominion in
Italy, and the reëstablishment, as it is called, of the empire of
the west, for both of which they chiefly blamed the popes. This
feeling made them support without any very close examination the
cause of the bishops of the imperial city. Then the memory of Photius
was revered as one of the great names of New Rome. We must add,
in conclusion, the universal effeminacy and corruption which has
left an indelible stain upon the unworthy successors of Constantine
and Theodosius, and given to their government the opprobrious but
emphatic name of the Low Empire.
But no honest man, much less no churchman, can find in these causes
any excuse or palliation for schism. Nor can such cause be found
in the personal relations of either Photius or Cerularius with
the holy see, much less in the earlier history of the church of
Constantinople, as the facts collected from authentic documents
related in these pages, we think, sufficiently show.
The popular hatred of the Greeks against the Latins was doubtless
aggravated by the establishment of the Latin empire of Constantinople.
Yet it was the first sovereign of the restored Greek empire that
opened negotiations for a reunion of the churches. It is not for us
to decide whether Michael Palæologus was influenced by motives of
interest or of religion; probably both had their weight with him.
In answer to his application, Pope Clement IV. sent a profession of
faith according to the ancient formula, promising to call a general
council to cement the union, provided the Greeks would consent
beforehand to accept and sign this profession. Gregory X. did call
the council, (A.D. 1272) for the triple purpose of the union of the
churches, aid to the Christians struggling in the Holy Land, and the
reformation of discipline. He sent nuncios to the Greek emperor
and the Patriarch of Constantinople, inviting them to the synod,
and received a favorable answer from the former. The council was
opened at Lyons on May 7th, 1274. There were five hundred bishops
present; the pontiff presided in person. It lasted three months,
and six sessions were held. At the third, the Greek representatives
appeared. Solemn high mass was celebrated by the pope, at which the
_Credo_ was sung in Latin and Greek, the Greeks repeating thrice the
words, "Who proceedeth from the Father and the Son." At the next
session were read the letters of the Greek emperor and prelates.
Both contained most satisfactory statements of their faith in the
primacy of the holy see by divine right over the whole church. The
prelates, moreover, informed his holiness that, as the Patriarch
Joseph had opposed the union, they had requested him to withdraw into
a monastery, to await the result of the council, and that, if he
should refuse to accept it, they would depose him and elect another
patriarch. Then the representatives of the emperor, and those of
the prelates, in the name of their principals, solemnly abjured the
schism, acknowledged the supremacy of the Roman see, and took an oath
never again to infringe on it. A synodical decree was passed defining
the Catholic doctrine on the procession of the Holy Ghost, condemning
those who deny that he proceeds from the Father and the Son, as
well as those who assert that he proceeds from them as from _two
principles_, not _one principle_. The Greeks were then dismissed with
great honor, carrying with them congratulatory letters to the emperor
and the prelates.
But this union did not last long. Palæologus did indeed cause
Joseph to be deposed, and John Veccus to be elected to the see of
Constantinople. He also endeavored to enforce the decree of union by
severe penalties against the recusants, and a synod was celebrated
by the patriarch, in which the union was accepted. But the clergy
and the people obstinately opposed any communion with the Latins;
the same feeling prevailed in the emperor's household; and at last
he abandoned what he appears to have considered a hopeless task. He
was excommunicated in 1281, by Pope Martin IV., for favoring heresy
and schism. He, however, protested his sincerity, and on his death
was refused Christian burial by his son and successor, Andronicus,
for the part he had taken in the union of the churches. The schism
was thus reopened, and the work of the Council of Lyons produced no
further fruit.
But when the Turks had reduced the domain of the empire almost to the
walls of Constantinople, the wily and faithless Greeks again turned
their eyes westward, and offered reunion in the hope of obtaining
succor. It were foreign to our purpose to trace the history of the
controversy between Pope Eugenius IV. and the Council of Bâle.
Suffice it to say, that, to facilitate the coming of the Greeks,
who wished to meet in a city near the Adriatic, he transferred the
council to Ferrara. On February 7th, 1438, the eastern fleet arrived
at Venice, bearing the Emperor John Palæologus, Joseph, Patriarch
of Constantinople, the proctors of the other eastern patriarchs,
the Metropolitan of Russia, and a great number of metropolitans,
bishops, abbots, and other dignitaries of the Greek Church. They were
received with extraordinary pomp and splendor. Thence they went to
Ferrara, where they arrived in the beginning of March. The council
opened on April 9th. A delay of four months was agreed on, to enable
the bishops of the Western Church to take part in the proceedings.
Meanwhile, informal conferences were held on the questions of
purgatory, and the beatitude of the saints before the final day of
judgment. It was easily shown that the differences between the two
churches were merely verbal, and did not affect the dogma. The first
solemn session was held on October 8th, which was followed by fifteen
others in regular order. In December, the council was transferred to
Florence, on account of the appearance of the plague at Ferrara. Nine
sessions were held at Florence, at the end of which the act of union
was solemnly adopted and promulgated.
There is scarcely any thing more interesting in the history of
general councils than the records of the discussions so long and so
ably carried on in this synod. It is a common supposition that the
Latins resorted to bribery and threats, the Greeks to chicanery and
bad faith, and thus an understanding was arrived at. Nothing could
be further from the truth, as the acts of the synod prove. Point
after point was discussed with marked ability on both sides, and
with peculiar skill and pertinacity on the part of the Greeks. At
last, all, with the exception of Mark, Archbishop of Ephesus, yielded
either to unanswerable arguments or to clear explanations, and then,
all difficulties being removed, the union was agreed to. It is, of
course, impossible in the brief space of an article to relate these
discussions in detail. We shall briefly refer to the principal point
in dispute.
This was the addition of _filioque_ in the creed. The Latins insisted
on separating from the beginning the two distinct points of dogma
and discipline. They asked the Greeks, first, if they believed that
the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son, as from one
principle of _spiration_. They showed them that the fathers of the
Greek, as well as those of the Latin church, had always taught this
doctrine. There was a great deal of finessing on the part of the
Greeks; they examined their own copies of the fathers, and found
that they had been correctly quoted by the other side; and, at last,
confessed that they had been wrong in accusing the Western Church
of error. The disciplinary question was argued with a great deal
of vigor. The Greeks, of course, alleged the celebrated canon of
the Council of Ephesus, prohibiting any addition to the symbol. The
Latin answer may be summed up thus: This canon prohibits any addition
by private authority. But _filioque_ was added by the authority of
the head of the church. Again, the canon prohibits any addition
_contrary_ to the doctrine of the symbol; but this addition is an
explanation and a complement of the doctrine of Nice, and the very
words (_and from the Son_) have been taken from orthodox fathers.
Lastly, the addition was not made lightly or without cause; but a
real necessity existed for it. Finally, all the Greeks, but Mark
of Ephesus, returned this answer: "We consent that you recite the
addition to the symbol, and that it has been taken from the holy
fathers; and we approve it, and are united with you; and we say that
the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son, as from one
principle and cause."
This point being satisfactorily settled, the other mooted questions
were soon adjusted, and on July 6th, 1439, the act of union was
read in solemn session, in Latin by Cardinal Julian, and in Greek
by Bessarion, Archbishop of Nice, who had been the leaders on
either side in the discussion. It is in the name of "Eugenius,
bishop, servant of the servants of God, with the consent of the
most serene emperor, and of the other patriarchs." The pope, "with
the approbation of the sacred universal Council of Florence,"
defines, first, the dogma of the eternal procession of the Holy
Ghost from Father and Son, as from one principle, and by one
spiration; secondly, "that the explanatory words, _and from the
Son_, were lawfully and reasonably added to the symbol, for the
sake of declaring the truth, and by reason of imminent necessity;"
thirdly, that both leavened and unleavened bread is lawful matter
for the eucharist, and that priests must follow the rite of their
own church--those of the western, that of the western; those of the
eastern, that of the eastern; fourthly, the question of the different
states of souls after death was settled according to the received
doctrine which is now professed in the Catholic Church. We give the
fifth section entire: "That the holy apostolic see and the Roman
pontiff doth hold primacy over the whole earth, and that he is the
successor of the blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and true
vicar of Christ, and head of the whole church, and is the father and
teacher of all Christians; and that to him, in the person of the
blessed Peter, hath been delivered, by our Lord Jesus Christ, the
full power of feeding, ruling, and governing the universal church,
as is contained in the acts of oecumenical councils and in the
sacred canons." Lastly, the decree reorganizing the canonical order
of patriarchs assigns the second place, after the Roman pontiff,
to the patriarch of Constantinople, the third to the patriarch of
Alexandria, the fourth to the patriarch of Antioch. A few more
questions of minor importance were then proposed to the Greeks, to
most of which they gave satisfactory replies, and soon afterward the
emperor and his prelates returned home by way of Venice.
The difficulty about _filioque_ has just been renewed by Mr.
Ffoulkes, of England, in defence of some notion of his about a
hybrid _united_, not _one_ church. We scarcely think he will succeed
in making good an objection which Bessarion and Mark of Ephesus
failed to sustain. Any how, his thesis appears to be, not that any
one "branch" of the church is entirely in the right, but that they
are all partly in the wrong. Perhaps he thinks that to him, not
to F. Hyacinthe, has the Lord given these sticks, to warm in his
bosom, purify, and finally reunite. We must leave them to settle the
question between themselves. But they ought to remember, with St.
Jerome, that he who gathereth not with the pope, scattereth.
Great hopes were entertained that the union perfected after such
long and free discussions would be lasting. But these were all
disappointed. Of all the obscure questions connected with the Greek
schism, the most obscure is how and when the compact of Florence was
first violated in the east. It is certain that Metrophanes, elected
Patriarch of Constantinople on the return of the Greek prelates, (as
the Patriarch Joseph had died at Florence,) solemnly published the
act of union.[180] His successor, Gregory, was equally devoted to
the council, and before his elevation, defended its action against
the attacks of Mark of Ephesus. This proud and turbulent man did
not remain quiet under his defeat, but addressed most inflammatory
letters to the orientals, making the vilest and most unfounded
accusations, not only against the pope and the Latin bishops, but
against his own colleagues. Though these were refuted by Gregory
before mentioned, and by Joseph, Bishop of Mothon, they no doubt
made a great impression on the prejudiced, nay, jaundiced oriental
mind. Mark, however, did not dare to publish his attacks until after
the death of John Palæologus, (A.D. 1448.)[181] A most extraordinary
and shameful political intrigue appears to have come to the aid
of the schismatical party. The Turk at this period was making his
arrangements for the final attack on Constantinople. The only hope
for the doomed city was in aid from the west. To prevent the sending
of this seasonable aid, it was the obvious policy of the Mussulman
to render void the union of Florence. Hence, in 1443, just ten years
before the fall of New Rome, a synod was held at Jerusalem, composed
entirely of bishops of sees under Turkish domination, among whom
are numbered the patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem,
in which the act of union was declared impious. Metrophanes was
adjudged to be an intruder into the see of Constantinople, and all
ecclesiastics ordained by him were deposed, full power being given to
the Metropolitan of Cæsarea to enforce this sentence in all dioceses
under the jurisdiction of the council--that is, wherever the crescent
had supplanted the cross.[182] Is it any wonder that, ten years
after, the Turks were masters of the city of Constantine?
No one, not even a modern Greek, would attempt to maintain that the
assemblage at Jerusalem was a legitimate council. The schismatics,
however, allege a council said to have been held at Constantinople
a year and a half after the Council of Florence, and after the
death of John Palæologus, in which Metrophanes was deposed and the
union rescinded. But there are two unfortunate anachronisms in this
account. Metrophanes was certainly patriarch for three years after
the council, and John Palæologus did not die until 1448, nine years
after the act of union. One of the last acts of the expiring Greek
empire was to send an ambassador to Pope Nicholas V. promising
the exact and speedy fulfilment of the agreement entered into at
Florence. We do not pretend to say that the greater portion of the
clergy and people of Constantinople were not schismatics at heart;
but this we can aver, that they were bound by the action of their
bishops, in the free, open Council of Florence, and that this action
has never been formally retracted by any legitimate council held
in the East. And we commend this consideration to those Anglicans
who sometimes, in their desire for a false union, seek to associate
with Greek schismatics. These are condemned by the action of their
fathers, an action never formally retracted, but merely opposed
with a sullenness and hardness of heart not unlike that with which
God visited Jerusalem before its destruction. While the Greeks were
calling the Latins _Azymites_, and other opprobrious names, the
minister of God's vengeance was approaching their gates; New Rome
fell into infidel hands; and from the turret of St. Sophia, whose
dome had so often resounded with excommunications of the vicar of
Christ, the _muezzin_ now invites the Moslem to prayer in the name of
the false prophet. Photius and Cerularius aimed at making New Rome
the spiritual superior of the city of Peter; instead, it has become
the chief city of the deadly enemy of the Christian name.
This is a sad, sad story, and it is not in exultation or triumph
that we pen these lines. While Mohammed II. was advancing his last
lines, Pope Nicholas V. was making most strenuous efforts to succor
the "fair but false" Greeks, and his successors never gave up their
efforts to regain the city of Constantine until it was evident that
there was no possibility of success.
The policy of Mohammed II. led him to spare a remnant of the
inhabitants of the conquered city, and to permit to them the free
exercise of their religion. But even in religious matters, he claimed
the prerogatives of the sovereigns whom he had displaced.
"In the election and investiture of a patriarch, the ceremonial
of the Byzantine court was revived and imitated. With a mixture
of satisfaction and horror, the Greeks beheld the sultan on
his throne; who delivered into the hands of Gennadius (the
patriarch elect) the crosier or pastoral staff, the symbol of his
ecclesiastical office; who conducted the patriarch to the gate of
the seraglio, presented him with a horse richly caparisoned, and
directed the viziers and bashaws to lead him to the palace which
had been allotted for his residence."[183]
And this degrading ceremony is continued to this day, each
"oecumenical patriarch of New Rome" receiving solemn investiture at
the hands of the Ottoman padisha.
The fall of Constantinople rendered certain the success of the
schismatical party. The sultans detested the name, as they feared the
influence, of the Roman pontiff; and it was plausibly argued that to
avow union with him would be to insure their own destruction. The
Catholic element, thus reduced to silence, gradually dwindled away;
and the schism, though its abjuration at Florence remains in full
force, again blighted the Greek Church.
As to hopes of reunion at the present day, "it is not for us to know
the times or moments which the Father hath put in his own power." We
can only hope and pray that light may at length dispel the darkness
which has so long hung over the Eastern Church. Ottoman policy
no longer requires the prolongation of the schism; its only real
supporter is Russia. All the Greeks would have to do would be to
sign the act of union of Florence. They can have no difficulty about
the Council of Trent; for they have always condemned the errors it
condemns. Protestantism has never found favor in their eyes. If the
Council of the Vatican do not succeed in reuniting them, it will, it
is confidently expected, at least renew the missionary spirit, and
inaugurate a work which, respecting eastern susceptibilities, may
bring the church of Athanasius, Basil, the Gregories, Chrysostom,
and so many other great saints and doctors out of "darkness and the
shadow of death," and put an end to a schism which commenced with
the lawless ambition of Photius, was renewed by the satanic pride
of Cerularius, and has had for chief support the perfidious policy,
first of the degenerate Christian emperors, then of the victorious
anti-Christian sultans of Constantinople.
FOOTNOTES:
[177] Epist. 34, lib. 7.
[178] Decline and Fall, ch. xlviii.
[179] See _L'Eglise Orientale_. Par Jacques Pitzipios. Rome:
Propaganda Press. 1855. Part vi. p. 13. A work which gives most
useful and interesting information on the state of the modern Greek
Church.
[180] See Pitzipios, (Part ii. p. 47,) who gives a copy of one of the
circular letters of the patriarch.
[181] Pitzipios, Part ii. pp. 55, 56, 57.
[182] _Ibid._, l. c. pp. 59, 60.
[183] Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. lxviii.
THE CHRIST OF AUSFELDT.
We live in a sceptical age that laughs at what it calls the
superstitions of the olden time; superstitions, if you will, but
often most beautiful, particularly when viewed through the mists of
time and change. It is a relief to come upon some living legend, so
to speak, while travelling over the hard macadamized thoroughfare
of our practical lives, and I shall never forget the pleasure I
experienced in listening to the recital of a story of the olden time,
told me by my gracious hostess at the village inn where I had been
stopping for a few days while making a pedestrian tour through the
southern part of Germany.
"_Ach, mein Herr!_ and hast never heard the legend of the Christ of
Ausfeldt?"
It stood, weather-beaten and worn, just where the solid piers set
their mighty feet into the river; an old stone crucifix that seemed
to have battled the storms of hundreds of years.
While pausing in my morning walk to gaze on it with a traveller's
curiosity, something in the general characteristics of the figure
attracted my attention; and examining it more closely, I immediately
saw that it displayed greater evidence of artistic skill and
execution than is generally manifested in wayside images. Too often
they are but caricatures of that semblance which is the most holy
and sacred of Christianity; but in the face of the Christ that
looked down upon me from the stained and battered cross, I read an
expression of patient suffering and God-like endurance that would
have borne noble testimony to any sculptor.
Returning to the inn, a desire to discover something of the history
rather of the sculptor than of the image prompted me to make inquiry
of my good-natured landlady, who sat in the twilight just outside of
the house door, knitting as only a German woman can.
From that "_Ach, mein Herr!_" I knew a story was coming; and
knowing, likewise, that Frau Gretchen was a very princess in
story-telling, I lighted my pipe, and, stretching myself on the
wooden bench before the door, prepared to be either saddened, amused,
or delighted, as the case might be.
Frau Gretchen laid down her stocking for a moment, smoothed the
whitest of white aprons, and having looked toward the river, and then
at the ruined castle that surmounted the hill beyond, resumed her
knitting, and, heaving a gentle sigh began:
"More than three hundred years ago, and for hundreds of years before
that time, there dwelt in that old castle yonder the noble lords of
Ausfeldt. They were great warriors; mighty in stature and strength,
and for generations on generations had been feared and hated by their
vassals; for they were wicked as they were violent, and cruel as they
were brave. Now, the women were all fair and gentle; for such was the
power of the lords of Ausfeldt that it was ever given them to wed the
flowers of the land; and it seemed that the good God made for them
angel wives, so pure, and meek, and pious, and charitable were the
ladies of Ausfeldt through centuries and centuries of time.
"Now, it fell out that Berthold, the reigning count, had been rescued
from drowning by Arnold, a wood-carver of the town, whose skill
in his craft was well known and much sought even from Alspach and
Brauen. It was on a Good-Friday, and the grateful lord registered a
vow to Heaven that he would commemorate his preservation by erecting
an image of the Saviour crucified nigh to the spot where the waters
had so nearly closed over him for ever.
"For in those days, _mein Herr_, although the great and mighty were
fierce and cruel, faith was not dead in their hearts, as it is in
these evil times of ours.
"Old Arnold of Ausfeldt, at his own beseeching, was deputed to essay
his skill upon the Christ, and so well did he execute the task that
his fame travelled far and wide. A large sum of money was promised
him; but Berthold the master went off to the wars, and forgot, as men
often do, his deliverer. Soon afterward old Arnold died and left all
alone in the world his beautiful daughter, so fair and spotless that
she was called 'the Lily of Ausfeldt.'
"As I said before, _mein Herr_, the dames of this haughty house were
gentle and good, and when poor Bertha was left desolate, the Countess
Barbara sent for her to the castle, and placed her among her own
daughters as a sort of companion and teacher; for she had inherited
from her mother great dexterity in the use of the needle, and from
her father not a little artistic skill.
"For a time all went well. But alas! to every day, however bright,
there comes an ending; and thus the morning of Bertha's happiness
faded and deepened into night.
"There arrived from a long journey in the East the eldest son of the
house, the young Rupert; none handsomer, none wittier, none more
courtly than he. Unlike his father and most of his progenitors, he
possessed a winning tongue and beguiling air; he had loitered in
ladies' bowers, and they had taught him well.
"Into the pure blue eyes of the Lily of Ausfeldt he looked as would
the serpent into the eyes of a trembling dove. But the blue depths,
though they quivered, grew no darker nor deeper; there was no guile
in the heart, and it knew not the presence of sin. Close to the
innocent cheek of the maiden the tempter breathed his poisonous
breath; but the guardian angel of purity folded his wings about
her, and wafted a fold of his misty veil between that hot breath and
her unsoiled innocence, until, man of the world though he was, Count
Rupert shrank into himself abashed, and loved for the first time in
his reckless life with a pure, deep, passionate love.
"Day after day he sought her side, night after night they wandered
together by the river; her soul all full of faith, and hope, and
beauty; his racked by fears of his father's anger; for in his heart
of hearts he knew that his father would sooner slay him with his own
hand than bend the lofty pride of Ausfeldt to a union with a simple
burgher maiden.
"_Ach, ach, Herr Karl!_ love is a pleasant thing, and a delicious
thing, and a holy thing; for it is heaven-born: but woman's faith is
still more beautiful and heavenly; and man's fickleness and perfidy
the story of every day. It has been the same all the world over since
time began, and so it will be to the end.
"They parted at last--war called him away; but he left her with a
vow upon his lips that was broken ere the birds sang the advent of
another summer. There came rumors of a marriage with a great heiress
of the north; but Bertha knew no fears, for her own heart was pure
and true, and she did not dream that his could be faithless. Alas!
there are many like her in the world, _mein Herr_, even in our day,
when most people are forgetting what love means.
"Soon the castle was astir with unusual bustle and preparation, and
then there was no secret made of the fact that the young Lord Rupert
would soon bring home a bride. Whether he was weak or wicked, who
can tell? God has judged and meted him his portion long ere this;
but in her heart poor Bertha never blamed him. Yet she grew pale and
thin; but no one noticed it; and that she spent long nights of weary
weeping none knew save her guardian angel.
"It was a still, starry midnight. All alone in her little chamber,
Bertha leaned forth from the casement; but she did not weep.
Suddenly, as by an irresistible impulse, she hurried from the room,
down the winding stairs, through the long garden, down, down the
steep hill, till she stood on the brink of the river.
"Beneath her its waters flowed dark and rippling, and they were cold,
oh! so cold, and her head burned and throbbed so wildly.
"One plunge, and her woes would be over for ever--thus whispered the
fiend beside her--one step, and the cool waves would receive her!
'What is life to thee now?' said a mocking voice in her ear. 'What
eternity of woe canst thou suffer more terrible than this? There is
no eternity, naught but oblivion. Nearer and nearer thy faithless
lover hastens with his beautiful bride; how canst thou bear day after
day to meet him, to dwell under the same roof with thy rival. Have
courage, plunge boldly! the waves, more merciful than the world, will
receive thee, and to-morrow thou wilt float on their broad bosom, far
away to the sea.'
"As the maiden lifted her hands from her eyes, as though to take a
last look on the world ere she left it, something white gleamed in
the moonlight; it was the stone crucifix at whose feet she had so
often knelt in days of happiness and innocence, the cross her father
had fashioned with hands and heart consecrated to heaven.
"Trembling in every limb, she dragged her weary feet to the spot; and
as she threw herself upon her knees before the image, bitter sobs
burst from her bosom.
"The sad face of the _dead Christ_ looked down upon her with eyes
of divine compassion, and brought to her memory and to her heart a
vision of the dear departed who had wrought this labor of love, and
of that father's affection, and of his pure and holy teachings, which
she had so nearly forgotten for evermore.
"With a wild cry she clasped the nail-pierced feet, and her whole
soul poured itself forth in one deep, wailing supplication.
"'My God, my God!' she moaned, 'why hast thou forsaken me? Take me
out of this weary world, as I lie here penitent and fearful, lest
the evil one come again to tempt me, and I yield in my weakness and
brokenness of heart. The river is black and pitiless, my Saviour; but
not so black and pitiless as the world. Save me, oh! save me from
myself. How shall I know that thou hast not deserted me? How shall I
hope that thou wilt pardon, that thou wilt hear my prayer?'
"The moon, which had shrunk behind a cloud, came softly forth and
bathed the image and the shrinking figure at its feet in holy light;
while, as the maiden knelt, there passed into her stricken heart a
quiet, hopeful feeling, and, looking up half timidly, she pushed back
her loosened hair to meet once more the sad, pitying glance above her.
"And then she clasped her trembling hands together, and bent her
weary head low down to the very earth; for around the brow of the
_dead Christ_ there shone a heavenly halo, blood trickled from the
thorny crown and reddened the outstretched hands, and from the soft,
compassionate eyes great tears were falling.
* * * * *
"Twenty years afterward, the holy Abbess of Ausfeldt lay upon her
death-bed; and the good sisters gathered around her, and even the
choristers and little serving-boys; for they all loved her well:
and there came into her eyes a light, and to her voice a strength,
neither had known for many a day; and just as I tell it to you, _mein
Herr_, she told them the story of the _Christ of Ausfeldt_. For her
name had been Bertha, and it was her own story.
"And she begged that no Christian might ever pass the sacred spot
without breathing a prayer for her soul. Ah! _mein Herr_, many a time
have I passed the holy image and almost fancied it smiled upon me as
I went."
Silently Frau Gretchen folded up her knitting, and with a sigh toward
the river, and another toward the ruined castle, stepped slowly down
the garden path, humming dreamily as she walked Schiller's song of
"The Mill":
"The mill-wheel ceaseless turneth,
Beside the mill I know;
But she who once did dwell there
Hath vanished long ago."
Catching her thought, I murmured the plaintive words as I passed out
of the gateway and down the old, shadowy street. They had "vanished
long ago"--the great inheritors and the noble line, the faithless
lover and the pure "Lily of Ausfeldt." But the bright, silvery
moonlight made clear and distinct the sculptured image I had come to
seek. The legend had invested it with an almost living interest, and
as I paused before it, with as reverential a feeling as I have ever
known in the contemplation of earth's grandest Raphaels or Murillos,
I said half aloud, as I lingered for a moment near the quiet river,
"O beautiful old German legends! may you live in your purity and
holiness in the hearts of the German people as long as the Rhine
flows through the pleasant courses and by the fruitful vineyards its
wandering spirit loves."
MRS. SETON.[184]
Elizabeth Ann Bayley, the foundress of the Sisterhood of Charity in
the United States, was born in the city of New York, on the 28th
of August, 1774. Her father, Dr. Richard Bayley, was a physician
of good family and distinguished position, a member of the Church
of England, and a man of many natural virtues; but he cared very
little about religion, and wherever his daughter may have got
the pious inclinations which distinguished her in girlhood, she
certainly did not get them from him. Her mother, whose maiden name
was Charlton, died while Elizabeth was a child. Under the care of
her father, however, Miss Bayley was well educated and trained in
domestic duties. At the age of nineteen she married Mr. William Magee
Seton, eldest son of a prosperous New York merchant, and descendant
of an ancient Scottish patrician family, whose head is the Earl
of Winton. Their married life was eminently happy, and for six or
seven years fortune smiled upon them. Commercial disasters at last
swept away their property. Dr. Bayley died suddenly of a malignant
fever contracted in the discharge of his duty as health officer of
the port; Mr. Seton's health failed, and in 1803 the husband and
wife determined to make a voyage to Italy. They suffered a long and
painful quarantine at Leghorn, and a week after their release Mr.
Seton died, leaving his wife in a strange land with her eldest child,
a girl of nine years. Mrs. Seton was not, however, without comfort
and protection. Two estimable Italian gentlemen, Philip and Anthony
Filicchi, personal friends and business correspondents of the Setons,
took her to their home and treated her with most brotherly kindness.
Under the influence of the devout household of which they were the
heads, the religious sentiments of the young widow were gradually
developed into a strong attraction toward the Catholic Church. She
went with the Filicchis to mass; she visited the chapels; she learned
devotion to the Blessed Virgin. Early in February, 1804, about six
weeks after Mr. Seton's death, she sailed for home. But it was not
the purpose of Providence that she should be withdrawn so soon from
associations which were to influence remarkably her future life. In
a severe storm the vessel in which she had taken passage was so much
injured as to be driven back to port. Before another was ready to
sail, Mrs. Seton's child was taken sick. Close upon the recovery of
the child, followed the sickness of the mother; and when, in April,
they were ready again to embark, one of the Filicchi brothers,
Anthony, offered to bear them company. During the long voyage of
nearly two months, Mrs. Seton made frequent opportunities to talk
with her friend upon religion, and before the vessel reached New York
she was virtually a convert. The last step cost her much suffering
and perplexity. It is a step which hardly ever is taken without
pain. In her case there was not only the dread of estrangement from
affectionate relatives, but she could not face with composure the
inevitable rupture with a clergyman of the Protestant Episcopal
Church who had exercised a great deal of influence upon her character
and her earlier life. This was the amiable John Henry Hobart,
afterward Bishop of New York, a man who was deeply and deservedly
beloved, and for whom Mrs. Seton in particular cherished a filial
regard. By Mr. Filicchi's advice, she exposed her difficulties to
Mr. Hobart. He made an elaborate reply to them. He talked with her
frequently. He used all his talent, all his scholarship, all his
personal influence to keep her in the denomination in which she had
been born. Between Mr. Hobart and her family, on the one hand, and
the letters of Philip Filicchi and personal interviews with Anthony,
on the other, her perplexity became painful to the last degree. At
last, on Ash-Wednesday, 1805, she was received into the church by
Father O'Brien, at St. Peter's, in Barclay street. Her soul was now
at peace, but her temporal troubles had only begun. Old friends and
nearest relatives turned away horrified and angry, and when soon
afterward her sister-in-law Cecilia was likewise baptized a Catholic,
the indignation of the family knew no bounds. She was without
fortune, and when she tried to earn a support by teaching, she found
the good Protestants of New York afraid to intrust the education of
their children to an emissary of the pope, perhaps a female Jesuit
in disguise. The kindness of her excellent Italian friends again
came to her relief. They charged themselves with the education of
her children, placed the two sons at Georgetown College, gave her an
allowance of $400 a year, and begged Mrs. Seton to draw upon them for
whatever money she wanted. We believe she was not obliged, however,
to avail herself of this generous offer.
Mrs. Seton seems to have formed, at an early period of her
widowhood, the project of devoting herself to God in the service of
a religious order, and her first plan was to go to Canada and join
some sisterhood there. It was a part of this scheme, however, that
her children should enter a house of education at Montreal, where
she could still give them the maternal care which their tender years
required. Providential obstacles defeated this design, and thus she
was reserved for the establishment in her own country of the noble
institute with which her name will always be connected. We shall
quote from Dr. White's _Life_ the story of how she began the great
work of her career:
"Her thoughts were more practically directed to it by the Rev.
William Valentine Dubourg, president of St. Mary's College in
Baltimore. He became acquainted with her in the following way:
Having visited the city of New York in the autumn of 1806, he was
one morning offering up the holy sacrifice of mass in St. Peter's
Church, when a lady presented herself at the communion-rail, and,
bathed in tears, received the Blessed Sacrament at his hands.
He was struck with the uncommon deportment and piety of the
communicant, and when afterward seated at the breakfast-table
with the Rev. Mr. Sibourd, one of the pastors of the church, he
inquired who she was, rightly judging in his mind that it was
Mrs. Seton, of whose conversion and edifying life he had been
informed. Before Mr. Sibourd had time to answer his question, a
gentle tap at the door was heard, and the next moment Mrs. Seton
was introduced, and knelt before the priest of God to receive
his blessing. Entering into conversation with her respecting her
sons and her intentions in their regard, he learned from her the
views and wishes of Mr. Filicchi, as stated above, and the remote
expectation she had of removing herself, with her daughters,
to Canada. Mr. Dubourg, who was a man of enlarged views and
remarkable enterprise, no sooner became acquainted with the design
which she entertained of retiring at some future period into a
religious community, for the welfare of herself and her children,
than he suggested the practicability of the scheme within the
limits of the United States. Mrs. Seton immediately wrote to
Bishop Carroll, informing him of what had passed between her and
Mr. Dubourg, and requesting his advice in the matter. 'I could
not venture,' she says, 'to take a further step in so interesting
a situation without your concurrence and direction, which also,
I am assured, will the more readily obtain for me the blessing
of Him whose will alone it is my earnest desire to accomplish.'
After mentioning the particular trials she had to contend with
in New York, and assuring Dr. Carroll that she had yielded in
condescension to her opponents every point possible consistently
with her peace for the hour of death, she continues, 'And for that
hour, my dear sir, I now beg you to consider, while you direct me
how to act for my dear little children, who in that hour, if they
remain in their present situation, would be snatched from our dear
faith as from an accumulation of error as well as misfortune to
them. For myself, certainly the only fear I can have is that there
is too much of self-seeking in pleading for the accomplishment
of this object, which, however, I joyfully yield to the will of
the Almighty, confident that, as he has disposed my heart to wish
above all things to please him, it will not be disappointed in
the desire, whatever may be his appointed means. The embracing a
religious life has been, from the time I was in Leghorn, so much
my hope and consolation, that I would at any moment have embraced
all the difficulties of again crossing the ocean to attain it,
little imagining it could be accomplished here. But now my
children are so circumstanced that I could not die in peace (and
you know, dear sir, we must make every preparation) except I felt
the full conviction I had done all in my power to shield them from
it; in that case, it would be easy to commit them to God.'
"While Mrs. Seton was consulting Bishop Carroll in regard to the
important arrangement suggested by Mr. Dubourg, this gentleman
was conferring with the Rev. Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus, of
Boston, upon the same subject. After having weighed the matter
attentively, they came to the conclusion that her Canada scheme
should be abandoned, and that it would be preferable to exert her
talents in the way proposed by Mr. Dubourg. Mr. Cheverus wrote to
her, 'hoping that this project would do better for her family,
and being sure it would be very conducive to the progress of
religion in this country.' It was the opinion, however, of these
distinguished clergymen that the execution of the design should
not be precipitate; and they therefore advised her, through Mr.
Dubourg, 'to wait the manifestation of the divine will--the will
of a Father most tender, who will not let go the child afraid
to step alone.' The wise forethought of Dr. Matignon led him
to believe that Mrs. Seton was called, in the designs of God's
providence, to be the instrument of some special mercies that he
wished to dispense to the church in this country. 'I have only
to pray to God,' he wrote to her, 'to bless your views and his,
and to give you the grace to fulfil them for his greater glory.
_You are destined, I think, for some great good in the United
States_, and here you should remain in preference to any other
location. For the rest, God has his moments, which we must not
seek to anticipate, and a prudent delay only brings to maturity
the good desires which he awakens within us.' Bishop Carroll, in
answer to Mrs. Seton's inquiries, informed her that, although he
was entirely ignorant of all particulars, yet, to approve the plan
of Mr. Dubourg, it was enough for him to know that it had the
concurrence of Dr. Matignon and Mr. Cheverus."
She did wait patiently nearly two years. At the end of that time her
pecuniary affairs became so embarrassing, and the inconveniences of
her situation in New York pressed upon her so severely, that she was
again driven to turn her thoughts toward Canada, not so much as a
refuge from her own troubles, but as an asylum where her children
might be saved from the dangers which threatened their faith in the
Protestant society of New York. But about this time she met Mr.
Dubourg again, and, in answer to his inquiries, gave him an exact
account of her situation. He contemplated the establishment of a
Catholic school for girls in Baltimore, and invited her to come and
take charge of it. Her two boys he offered to admit into St. Mary's
College, free of expense. The school was to be started in a small
way, in a two-story hired house; and afterward, if God prospered the
undertaking, a proper building for the institution was to be erected
on ground belonging to the college. Of course, Mrs. Seton accepted
the proposition with joy. On the 9th of June, 1808, she embarked for
Baltimore in a packet, accompanied by her three daughters. It was a
voyage, in those times, of between six and seven days. She landed on
the morning of the 16th, the feast of Corpus Christi, and drove at
once from the wharf to St. Mary's chapel to hear mass.
It is almost impossible to describe the happiness which beams from
her letters written in her new home to her friends in Italy, her
favorite sisters-in-law, Cecilia and Harriet Seton, (the latter of
whom was, at this time, strongly attracted toward the church, while
the other, as we have already mentioned, was a fervent convert,) and
her spiritual advisers. United with her children, in a comfortable
little home close to the seminary and college, where she found in
the chapel services an unfailing source of delight, she had all that
her domestic affections and pious desires could wish. The relatives
of Mr. Dubourg and other Catholics of the city treated her with
great cordiality, and from many distinguished Protestant families
she received marked social attentions. The school was opened in
September. Mrs. Seton had not thought, so far, of adopting any thing
like a conventual rule of life, except perhaps at some remote period;
but her daily life was regulated with reference to the consecration
of all her powers to God, and she mingled no further in society than
a regard for good breeding and gratitude to her friends absolutely
required. The development of her religious schemes was gradual, and
the foundation of the new sisterhood appears, from a human point
of view, the result of accident and curious coincidence, rather
than the fruit of direct labor. The first step toward it was the
arrival at Mrs. Seton's Baltimore establishment of a young lady
from Philadelphia, named Cecilia O'Conway. The Rev. Mr. Babade, the
spiritual director of the school, found this young lady on the point
of going to Europe to enter a convent. He told her of Mrs. Seton's
plans, and she determined to go to Baltimore instead. In December,
1808, Miss O'Conway accordingly became an assistant in the school.
Mr. Filicchi had made an offering of one thousand dollars toward the
realization of Mrs. Seton's plans; but now came, in a most unexpected
manner, a new benefactor, whose liberality gave the enterprise a
different character and vastly enlarged scope. Among the students of
theology at St. Mary's Seminary, was Mr. Samuel Cooper, a gentleman
of fortune, a Virginian, and formerly well known in fashionable
society. His conversion from Protestantism and determination to study
for the priesthood had caused quite as great a sensation as the
conversion of Mrs. Seton. He now purposed distributing his property
among the poor, (before his death, we may here add, that he literally
gave away all he possessed,) and one morning he spoke to Mr. Dubourg
about doing something for the instruction of poor children. He had
never spoken upon the subject with Mrs. Seton, but he suggested at
this interview that possibly she might undertake the work, if he gave
the money. It is a very remarkable fact that at this same moment Mrs.
Seton was thinking of the same thing. That morning after communion
she felt a strong desire arise within her to dedicate herself to the
care and instruction of poor girls. She went at once to Mr. Dubourg.
"This morning," she said, "in my communion, I thought, 'Dearest
Saviour, if you would but give me the care of poor little children,
no matter how poor!' and Mr. Cooper being directly before me at his
thanksgiving, I thought, 'He has money: if he would but give it for
the bringing up of poor little children to know and love you!'" The
result of this extraordinary, or we ought rather to say, providential
coincidence, was, that Mr. Cooper gave eight thousand dollars for the
establishment of the proposed institution, and fixed upon Emmettsburg
as the place; and there a farm with a very small stone house upon it
was bought, in the names of the Rev. William V. Dubourg, Mr. Samuel
Cooper, and the Rev. John Dubois, who was then pastor of several
congregations in that part of Maryland, and director at the same time
of the small school near Emmettsburg, out of which soon afterward
grew Mount St. Mary's College. With the college and its illustrious
founder the fortunes of Mrs. Seton's institute became intimately
connected.
While these arrangements were in progress, the new community was
gradually and quietly forming at the little house in Baltimore. A
second associate, Miss Maria Murphy, of Philadelphia, joined Mrs.
Seton in April, 1809. In May, two more presented themselves, Miss
Mary Ann Butler, of Philadelphia, and Miss Susan Clossy, of New York.
It was not without a painful sense of unfitness that, in obedience
to the directions of her bishop and spiritual advisers, Mrs. Seton
undertook the government of this religious household. On the evening
of the day when the task was definitely laid upon her "she was
seized," says Dr. White,
"with a transport of mingled love and humility in reflecting
upon the subject. Being with two or three of her sisters, and
the discourse turning upon the probable designs of providence
in their regard, Mother Seton became so penetrated with the
awful responsibility, and sense of her own incapacity, that she
was almost inconsolable. For some moments she wept bitterly in
silence; then, throwing herself upon her knees, she confessed
aloud the most frail and humiliating actions of her life from her
childhood upward; after which she exclaimed in the most affecting
manner, her hands and eyes raised toward heaven and the tears
gushing down her cheeks, 'My gracious God! You know my unfitness
for this task. I who by my sins have so often crucified you, I
blush with shame and confusion! How can I teach others who know
so little myself, and am so miserable and imperfect?' The sisters
who were present were overwhelmed by the scene before them, and,
falling on their knees, gave vent to their tears and painful
emotions."
On the 1st of June they assumed a religious habit, and the next
day--Corpus Christi--appeared in it for the first time at church. It
was not a regular nun's garb, but an imitation of the dress which
Mrs. Seton had worn ever since the death of her husband. It consisted
of a black gown with a short cape, similar to a costume she had seen
in some Italian sisterhood, a white muslin cap with a crimped border,
and a black band around the head, fastened under the chin. A regular
order of daily life was established, and Mrs. Seton privately, in
the presence of Bishop Carroll, took the ordinary vows of poverty,
chastity, and obedience for the period of one year. Her associates,
however, did not as yet make any vows, nor was any special religious
institute adopted for their organization. They merely styled
themselves "Sisters of St. Joseph." Mr. Dubourg was appointed their
ecclesiastical superior.
About this time Miss Cecilia Seton fell dangerously ill, and was
advised by her physicians to make a visit to Baltimore. Harriet
accompanied her, and with these two beloved relatives, one of her
daughters, and one member of the sisterhood, Mrs. Seton removed to
Emmettsburg on the 21st of June, finding shelter at first in a little
log hut on the mountain, as their own house on the farm was not yet
ready for use. Her happy union with Cecilia and Harriet was for a
few months only. Harriet became a Catholic; but in the first fervor
of her devotion was seized with a fever, and died on the 22d of
December. Cecilia grew better for a short time, and even joined the
community; but she failed gradually, and died in Baltimore in April.
During the first autumn and winter at Emmettsburg the institution was
little better than a hospital. The farm-house, into which the whole
community, then numbering ten, moved in the course of the summer,
consisted of nothing but two rooms on the ground floor and two in
the attic, and these had to afford accommodations not only for the
ten sisters, but for Mrs. Seton's three daughters, her sister-in-law
Harriet, and two pupils who followed her from Baltimore. Added to the
discomfort of their narrow quarters was a state of poverty so extreme
that they sometimes knew not where to look for their next meal. For
coffee they substituted a beverage made of carrots and sweetened with
molasses. Their bread was of rye and of the coarsest description.
At Christmas they thought themselves fortunate in having for dinner
smoked herrings and a spoonful of molasses apiece. In the course of
the winter, however, a two-story log house of convenient size was
put up for their use, and now they were able to open a day-school
and take more boarding-pupils, and so provide at least for their
daily expenses. The debt incurred in making these improvements was,
nevertheless, a severe burden for them, and at one time it seemed
inevitable that they should sell out and disperse; but charitable
friends came to their relief at the last moment, and, little by
little, with many fluctuations of fortune, they got out of their
difficulties.
When they determined, about the time of coming to Emmettsburg, to
adopt the rule of St. Vincent of Paul, they sent to France and
begged some of the sisters of the society to come over and place
themselves at the head of the new American community. The invitation
was accepted; but the French government would not allow the sisters
to sail, so the most that Mrs. Seton could get was a copy of the
rules and a kind letter of encouragement. These rules, modified to
meet the peculiar wants of the new institution, by permitting it to
receive pay-scholars in connection with its labors of charity, and
with special provisions to allow Mrs. Seton to devote the necessary
care to her young children, were approved by Bishop Carroll as the
rule for the "Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph," and so the community
which has done such a noble work in the United States came into
existence with Mrs. Seton for its first mother superior.
We have no intention of sketching in this brief paper the rise and
development of that sisterhood. The log house in "St. Joseph's
Valley," at the foot of Mount St. Mary, has a renown in the history
of the American church upon which many able pens have enlarged, and
branch communities have gone out from it, filling remote parts of the
United States with good works and pious example. Our purpose has been
merely to sketch the foundation of the illustrious community, and
tell our readers something of the trials and sorrows under which Mrs.
Seton achieved her great work. The rest of her life, though it was
blessed with the consolation of success in her undertaking, was torn
with afflictions not less severe than those she had suffered already.
Her eldest and her youngest daughters were both taken from her as
they were just entering upon a beautiful womanhood, the eldest,
Anna, being already a member of the community. The deaths among her
earliest associates were many, and she had also to mourn the loss of
one of the excellent Italian friends who contributed so much to the
success of her enterprise. But in all her sorrows she preserved the
calmness of divine resignation, the charm of her personal presence,
and the kind, unselfish interest in others which made her so
generally beloved. She died on the 4th of January, 1821; and on the
wall of the humble chamber where she expired, the following memento
is now shown:
"Here, near this door, by this fireplace, on a poor, lowly couch,
died our cherished and saintly Mother Seton, on the 4th of
January, 1821. She died in poverty, but rich in faith and good
works. May we, her children, walk in her footsteps and share one
day in her happiness! Amen!"
The two works whose titles we have placed at the head of this article
are very much alike in the general character of their contents,
having both been prepared from the same materials. Dr. White's _Life_
has been many years before the public, and has been much commended
for its devotional spirit and appreciative judgment of Mrs. Seton's
labors. The larger work, just issued in two handsome volumes, and
printed and bound with considerable elegance, has been prepared by
Mrs. Seton's grandson. It has apparently been for the editor a labor
of love. He has drawn freely from the family records which Dr. White
used before him, and has quoted much more of Mrs. Seton's letters
than his predecessor did, so that the work is almost equivalent to
an autobiography of the foundress of St. Joseph's, illustrated with
abundant explanatory notes, and with only so much narrative as seemed
necessary to bind the whole together. It is not only an interesting
memorial of a very interesting woman, but an important contribution
to the materials which we hope the coming historian will some day
reduce into a comprehensive history of the American church.
FOOTNOTE:
[184] _Memoir, Letters, and Journal of Elizabeth Seton._ Edited by
Right Rev. Robert Seton, D.D., Prothonotary Apostolic. 2 vols. 8vo,
pp. 322, 311. P. O'Shea. 1869.
_Life of Mrs. Eliza A. Seton._ By Charles I. White, D.D. 12mo, pp.
462. John Murphy & Co. 1853.
VIEWS OF THE LABOR MOVEMENT.
If we consider the existing industrial nations with the eye of
political economy or of political philosophy, we cannot help giving
attention to the deep and wide-spread disagreements which have
broken open between the laboring man and his employers. In France,
Switzerland, Germany, England, and the United States, the question of
the relative rights of labor and capital are presented in many ways,
so as to compel investigation and action. Trades-unions, coöperative
societies, industrial congresses, and lastly, that herculean
infant, the Labor Reform Party, are extending themselves all over
the countries we have just named, and particularly over the United
States. They are daily gaining strength and influence. Politicians
are thinking how to obtain the favor of this party, at the least cost
to their popularity among other partisans. The larger parties already
offer to compromise with it, and to give it a plank in their great
platforms. It is evident that, if the working-men were to move with
unanimity to form a labor party, it would be a most formidable rival
to the others.
The mere fact of the advent of a new party is not at all startling
to an American; for since the independence of this country, several
parties have come into existence, and have been swept away by the
advent or success of others; but the working-men's party proposes
to carry into our legislation and into the administration of the
government tendencies and principles so diametrically opposite to
and destructive of any precedent course or system of politics,
that the prospect of these tendencies being powerfully reënforced
excites vehement emotions of anxiety or satisfaction, according to
the previous bias of the observer. Just think of it: the question
is no longer to be only what ought to be the policy of the nation,
regarded as an unit, toward other nations or toward itself, nor
what are the interests and rights of _territorial_ integers; but
what ought to be the action of one great _component element_ upon
the other essential elements of the body politic. The people are
called upon to consider not only the questions relative to tariffs,
taxation, banks, currency, national debt, bonds, State rights, or
the like; but to answer the complaint of the bone and sinew of the
country against its veins and blood. The brain claims the right
to decide; and it appears there is a possibility of there being a
preponderance of brain on the side of the complainants. The spread
of education produces astonishing consequences; and among the rest
this: science is becoming so common that the great cannot monopolize
it all, and much of it is going to take service among the poor.
Hence, able and eloquent speakers and writers are now contending
that labor does not receive its full and merited reward, and that
the laborer is oppressed by his employers and the laws. Hence, too,
a great number and variety of novel measures and institutions are
ingeniously contrived and plausibly advocated for the avowed purpose
of overthrowing some of the most venerated doctrines of orthodox
political economy.
As in other cases, this movement develops every grade of opinion
and feeling. A rich philanthropist thinks more education and better
lodging-houses, at less cost, will be a good and sufficient remedy;
while among the poor the most violent measures are sometimes
preferred. Even agrarianism is proposed, and incendiarism attempted,
in order to redress whatever wrongs the toiler really suffers, or
imagines he suffers, unjustly. Between the two, we have mild and
harmless contrivances, such as mutual aid societies, and coöperative
shops and stores, intended to diminish the causes of pauperism or
alleviate its bad effects.
All the plans, of course, differ, according to the idea the
proposers have formed of the nature of the causes of the social
malady. Some regard the miseries of the laboring classes as the
accumulated effects of many mere accidents, principally personal
imprudence and vice; and, since they think there is no radical
cause, refuse to hear of a radical remedy. Others admit radical
causes, such as (1) a bad form of government, or (2) the selfish,
the uncharitable, the unchristian spirit of the world, or (3) the
too rapid increase and local crowding of population, or (4) the
progressive individualization of capital, or (5) popular ignorance,
or (6) the onerous obligations of marriage and parentage, or (7) what
they call the slavery of woman, or (8) the present land-ownership
system, or some other prevalent mode of acquiring property, such as
(9) usury, (10) monopoly, (11) rents, (12) heirships, (13) tariffs,
(14) banking, (15) speculation, and the like. Above all these looms
the fact, whatever may be the cause, that capital is becoming less
and less in the hands of those who produce it, and is growing larger
and larger in the hands of cunning or lucky exploiters.
The variety of opinions with regard to what the remedy should be has
produced correspondingly various institutions, parties, and laws.
So we have (1) poor laws, vagrant laws, work-houses and reformatory
prisons, for juvenile delinquents and others; (2) charity hospitals,
asylums for the widows, the orphans, the deaf and dumb, the blind,
the crippled, the aged, the infirm, or the insane; warming-houses,
lying-in hospitals, poor mothers' cradle-houses, gratuitous
sleeping-halls, soup-houses, asylums for unruly or destitute children
of both sexes, gratuitous dispensaries of medicines, Magdalen
reformatory houses, Sisters of Charity, Brothers of Mercy, Little
Sisters of the Poor, Christian Brothers' schools, public schools,
etc.; (3) visiting confraternities to bring succor home to the
poor, such as fuel-giving, furnishing provisions or nursing, and
prison-visiting societies; (4) organizations to support charitable
institutions by means of fairs, lotteries, concerts, spectacles,
picnics, tournaments, and other amusements; (5) labor-protective
unions, workmen's guilds and fellowships, trades-unions and labor
combinations, savings banks, coöperative factories, coöperative
stores, mutual aid societies, burial societies, labor reform party;
(6) Shaker, Rappist, Moravian, and Ballouite communities; (7) Owenite
_Harmonias_, Cabetite _Familisteries_, Fourierite _Phalansterias_,
women's rights societies, Mormon harems, and artistic brothels of
complex association.
Every one who reads this list will find in it the mention of some
institution he believes to be either useless or pernicious. The
objections would be curiously heterogeneous. An infidel would
suppress all those having their root or support in religion. A
political economist will protest against working-men's combinations
to raise the price of labor. A Christian deplores the attempts of
socialists to establish institutions from which God is excluded. A
sectarian sees with pain the success of charities founded by other
congregations. The Roman Catholic (as such) must also have his
opinions of the relative merits of the corporations that appear to
him to rise sometimes out of the sea of sin, and sometimes out of the
waters of life. We, for ourselves, have some peculiar ideas, gathered
from this point of view.
It would be vain obduracy on the part of a Catholic to close his eyes
to the deep and wide-spread clamor of the voices, great and small,
that are now discussing "social science," and proposing solutions
of the "labor question." These matters, in every imaginable manner,
are obtruding themselves upon the attention of the manufacturer,
politician, and legislator; and must soon command that of the farmer
and merchant; and by and by, even the solicitude of the church.
Indeed, we should not say "by and by;" for already, while the world
is agitated by the strikes and the labor congresses, while the
parliament of Great Britain, through its committees, is carrying
on the minutest investigations of the eight-hour and higher wages
movements, our holy father at Rome has pronounced public allocutions
against _socialism_.
Very certainly society, the state, and the church will soon deeply
feel the effects of the agitation of mind and feeling going on
among the working people. The allocution of his holiness shows that
this consequence has not escaped his penetrating intellect. He sees
clearly that the agitation will be injurious or produce beneficial
results according to the principles, Christian or anti-christian,
that shall prevail within it. To avoid or prevent the fermentation
and its products is impossible. It must take place; and the question
is, how to make it yield clear and palatable wine. To think that the
church can ignore it, and go on as if nothing were shaking the body
politic, and disturbing the souls of the people, would be to stultify
ourselves. The issue raised is too important, and the tendency to
revolution too powerfully pressed to be disregarded and treated
with contempt. See the great number of societies the workmen have
formed in every Northern State. These societies have already drawn a
majority of the skilled operatives, and there is a prospect of their
finally absorbing all the working-people. The agricultural laborers
already give signs of sympathy with the movement.
Of course, we understand that it matters not to the church what
economic or political party governs the state. The controversies
between Democrat and Republican, free-trade and protection, labor and
capital, are mere worldly matters, and do not concern the church; but
the coming issue has a deeper cause than a mere question of temporal
expediency. In the midst of the unanimous demand for a change the
men of labor are making, we can also perceive, not only that the
wished-for changes are fundamental and revolutionary, but also that
the leaders are actuated by very different principles, and aim at
different ultimates, and that these relate to the very origin, basis,
and end of private and public morality and religion. Some move by the
light of Christianity, some by that of natural reason as exhibited by
the modern infidel schools of philosophy--naturalism, rationalism,
individualism, positivism, and evolutionism. Very different motives
and very different hopes move the principal agitators, though they
now act with great unanimity. The working multitude, who complain of
wrong, and seek a practical remedy, have not yet looked beyond the
surface of the speeches, or into the details of the plans of their
principal men. It suffices that these say they have found the proper
remedy. They have gained the confidence of followers merely from
evincing a knowledge of the grounds of complaint, and giving eloquent
expression to their sympathy. The working-men hardly discuss the
merits of the particular _methods_ of reform proposed; and they will
follow one or the other class of leaders as it happens that either
succeeds in captivating them by the arts of ambition. The difference
in the possible consequences is immense; but first the leaders, each
with his followers, will act together to break up the customs, laws,
and institutions by which the interests of the laboring men are
injuriously affected; and not till they accomplish this against the
common enemy shall we know (unless we prepare the way) whether the
counsels of infidelity or of Christianity will be followed in the
reconstruction.
The work of determining the tendency one way or the other is
going on even now. If we scrutinize societies, institutions, and
parties formed for the purpose of relieving the evils that poverty
causes among the people, we shall find it easy to class them under
discordant heads. (1) Those founded by Christian charity, wholly
innocent of any political purpose--works of disinterested mercy
and brotherly love. (2) Those invented by political economists and
lawyers, merely as a means of favoring capitalists and the personal
accumulation of property, or to suppress pauperism and vagrancy,
such as monopolies, poor-houses, and the like. (3) Those contrived
from motives of private prudence and economy only, such as mutual
aid societies, coöperative stores, etc. (4) Those proceeding on the
ground that the laboring classes will never get their just portion of
worldly goods and enjoyments otherwise than through political action,
as, for instance, the national labor reform party. (5) The Utopias
and secret societies imagined by infidels.
It is this last-mentioned class whose theories, acts, and progress
compel us to consider them from a religious point of view. They
are the offspring of Campanella, of Nicolas of Munster, and of
Giordano Bruno. From these sprang Bolingbroke, Voltaire, Rousseau,
D'Holbach, and a host of mere sceptics and speculators like
them. Then came the chiefs of the French revolution, Marat and
Robespierre. Next, in 1797, Baboeuf opposed even Robespierre as
being too backward and aristocratic, and formed a conspiracy to
massacre the rich, and proclaim sumptuary laws from a mountain of
the slain. After him appeared Owen, trying to realize the insane
idea of conciliating atheism with charity. He was followed by St.
Simon, who sought to create another contradiction, that of an
aristocracy of philanthropists; governors and princes of equality,
who, however, never found any subjects. Contemporaneously, Fourier
invented a wonderful scheme for procuring in labor association
the most luxurious pleasures and licentious indulgences. Close at
his heels came Cabet, continuing Owen's method on less offensive
conditions. Last of all, Noyes is trying to conceal the wolf of
beastly promiscuousness under the robe of the pure lamb of Christian
love. These are the most notorious of those who may be denounced as
the anti-Christian agitators of the labor question. Socialism is the
name they have inscribed on their banner; and hence, since all these
inventors and champions have also been unanimous in waging war,
directly or indirectly, against Christianity, their socialism itself
should be opposed by all good Christians.
But, unfortunately, socialism, while opposing or seeking to undermine
Christianity, succeeds in seducing many by the promises of sensual
enjoyments she makes. Indeed, the rationale of every sect or party
concerned in the labor movement begins with the main proposition
which makes them and even infidel socialism acceptable to multitudes,
namely, that society or the state is under obligation to relieve
the miseries of the poor, and if possible to eradicate pauperism
itself. If any deny that society or the law has done any injustice
to labor--if, for instance, the legislator who framed the poor laws
thought the pauper had nobody but himself to blame--he nevertheless
admits that pauperism is not merely a personal misfortune, but a
public one; that pauperism must be regarded as a social malady or
sore, which, though it may not be radically cured, must and ought
to be treated at least with palliatives, so as to prevent it from
becoming fatal to the body politic. Thus, while attempting to
exonerate the state, even the orthodox politician admits that the
body politic is deeply afflicted by the virus of pauperism, and
therefore himself posits the very question he would fain ignore. The
poor join issue with him, and argue that from the day England and
North Germany wrested the care of the poor from the monasteries, the
state assumed the responsibility of their distress, and is bound to
make such laws as will radically cure all misery. The contest is now
raging in every direction, not only on the question of _Who_ shall
take care of the poor, but _How_ shall they be cared for, and _What_
are the rights and remedies they are entitled to?
The origin and object of the controversy is agreed on by every one.
The dissent is upon what shall be the principle and the method
according to which the desired relief shall be gained. Infidelity,
under the name of socialism, would have it done without God, on
grounds of naked natural equity or rational justice. It would act
independently of religion, Christian faith and Christian charity. It
would push the church aside, and presume to finish in another name
the work our Lord Jesus Christ commenced more than eighteen centuries
ago.
Hence, unless one prefers to hide his head in the sand, with the vain
notion that the immense flood roaring and rising round us does not
exist, because he does not see or hear it, it is time for him, if he
is a Catholic, to consider from the point of view of his faith what
stand he should take, and what is his duty toward the poor and toward
society in the crisis the struggles of laborers for power in the
state will soon bring on in this country of universal suffrage. It is
not merely a question of giving and distributing alms and assistance
that is to be solved, but great problems of social organization and
rights are put before us. We must decide, (1) what there is in the
labor movement that religion approves and encourages; (2) what there
is in it religion condemns; and (3) what it contains that is merely
temporal or indifferent to the church.
It certainly has something of each of these three elements.
In any way the matter is approached it presents a religious as well
as a political question to be solved, a religious as well as a
political duty to be performed; for it involves the rights of the
poor on us, and our duty to them _as Christians_. What if the demands
of the laborers were just, and that, notwithstanding this, we should
oppose them? While socialism, as a whole, should be opposed, it
is admitted that the present poor-laws and charitable institutions
are insufficient, and some more thorough system of relief must be
adopted. The working-men insist that this shall be done, and for
this purpose claim to elect those who are to govern the state, and
make the laws. Religion cannot neglect to interfere without leaving
multitudes of souls of the poor to be seduced into the naturalism,
sensualism, and infidelity the socialists purpose as the consummation
of the movement. Nor does the question of our religious duty toward
the poor in this crisis cease to demand an answer upon a mere
refutation of socialistic theories. It does not suffice to show that
the Utopias of Baboeuf, Owen, Cabet, St. Simon, Fourier, and Noyes
are abominable, but the just principle of economic distribution must
be found and applied under penalty of eternal anarchy. The negation
of one medicine as unfit does not dispense from finding another that
will cure, when, indeed, a disease exists; and we take it for granted
that no Christian who has heard or read of the successive burdens
and hardships of the poor operatives and peasants of Europe will say
that there is no disease to be cured, or who is heartless enough
to abandon the case on the ground that it is incurable. Certain it
is that the hard-working poor will not concede that they suffer
no injustice--will not cease to demand permanent relief; and if
religion ignores, denies, or abandons the sick, they will resort to
philosophical quacks, who will lead them to their moral and religious
ruin. Worse; as foreseen by his holiness Pius IX., they will repeat
the apostasy of the French revolution, and with the same sacrilegious
and despotic spirit, but with more cunning and method, prohibit
religion itself.
Their main lever in accomplishing this will be the labor movement, if
they succeed in controlling it. Hence, what _we_ shall do with it, is
a question of vital importance.
At the outset the Catholic must give a negative answer to all
propositions and plans for disturbing _vested rights_ or violently
resisting the laws, or lawful authority, under pretence of
establishing justice. This proposition needs no argument to show its
wisdom and conformity with divine law.
Next, the Catholic will oppose agrarianism, which is the _forcible_
taking of all property to distribute it in _equal_ portions among
the people. This is forced equality; a very different thing from
associated labor.
Finally, the Catholic will also even oppose association when
she would organize corruption and irreligion under the guise of
philanthropy and fraternity.
No doubt these are the features of the labor movement his holiness
Pius IX. designated under the general title of socialism when, on the
17th of June last, in his allocution to the cardinals, he said:
"Thus, to-day we see on one side revolution, bringing in her train
THAT _socialism_ which repudiates morals and religion and denies
God himself; while on the other side we behold the faithful and
true, who calmly and firmly expect that good principles will
resume their salutary empire, and that the merciful designs of
Deity will be realized."
The plain duty of lopping off socialism, and of casting it aside,
being performed, there remains, (1) reform through just legislation;
(2) legal contracts for mutual relief; (3) coöperation or association
of work-fellows; and (4) the realization of perfect Christian charity.
We think we could prove that all the purely secular remedies--such
as coöoperation, mutuality, and the like--are delusive, and in
themselves inadequate; but it is not our present purpose to examine
this branch of the subject. A volume would not suffice. It is only
necessary to remark, _en passant_, that there is nothing in the
organizations included under the general name of coöperation contrary
to religion; but at the same time there is nothing in coöperation
that springs from religion; it is a mere economic contrivance. It is
not a _religious_ solution of the problem of social distress; and
since we have argued that religion must be able to give a temporal
as well as a spiritual answer to the complaints of the poor, we will
pass by all minor and transitional questions, and consider only what
the earthly Utopia of faith and charity would be; and inquire what
method might now be adopted to inaugurate the practical reign of
Christian fellowship, in which the laborer would necessarily reap the
reward he is justly entitled to.
Yes, religion has also its earthly new Eden, that will give full
satisfaction to the over-burdened and under-paid workman. Let us try
to picture it in our imagination, in order to judge from a study of
the ideal whether it would be possible to make it a reality. To do
this, we should begin by stating the principles on which this ideal
should be founded; and we should also mention such historical facts
as may serve to enlighten us on the practical application of those
principles.
The Scriptures and the church teach that there are degrees of merit,
beginning with that minimum of righteousness sufficient to save us
from damnation. From that point the degrees rise one above the other
till they ascend beyond the regions of _prohibition_ and _precept_
to the realms of _counsel_ and _perfection_. There is the man who is
willing to obey God so far only as to refrain from violating the
ten commandments. Then there are those who, besides this, give alms
and do other works of mercy for Christ's sake; and finally, there
are those who, seeking for the Holy Spirit, labor for and do works
necessary to attain _perfection_.
Excuse this positing of doctrines familiar to us all. They are stated
as parts of our argument.
Among the immediate disciples of Christ there were not only
shepherds, mechanics, fishermen, physicians, and farmers; but also
tradesmen, and even lawyers and soldiers. Some were rich, and
nevertheless were regarded as having merited heaven. Zaccheus is
an instance of this class; to please God, he gave as much as half
of his goods to the poor. He went only half-way in perfection. It
is clear that if people generally refrained from committing any
of the offences mentioned in the ten commandments, justice would
reign, and therefore many social grievances of the worst kind
would disappear. True, this would not suffice to give affirmative
happiness, but it would be the negation of positive moral woe.
Works of mercy are necessary to dry all tears; and charity has the
genial warmth that makes the smile bloom again on the countenances
of those who have wept. Now, charity is first pity and sympathy; and
then it is sacrifice. It has beautiful demonstrations of love in
words and demeanor, but it fully realizes itself in sacrifices; and
these sacrifices are of every extent. Some are small but cheerfully
offered, as the widow's mite. Some are proportionately large, as the
apportionment Zaccheus made; but some are unlimited, as the triple
vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience of the regular clergy.
Jesus said to him, _If_ thou wilt be PERFECT, go, sell what thou
hast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven:
and come, and follow me. (Matt. xix. 21.) Blessed are ye (willingly)
poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. (Luke vi. 20; Matt. v. 3.)
Where thy treasure is, there is thy heart also. (Matt. vi. 21.) You
cannot serve God and Mammon. (Matt. vi. 24.) He who hath left house,
etc., ... for my sake and for the gospel, ... shall ... receive a
hundred times as much, _now in this time_; ... and in the world to
come life everlasting. (Mark x. 29, 30.)
From these and numerous similar speeches of our Lord, and from a
spirit of gratitude, his disciples were inspired with the desire of
attaining perfection. Those who remained steadfast notwithstanding
the crucifixion, or rather because of the crucifixion, gathered
around the apostles and pronounced the vow of poverty. "All they that
believed were together, and had all things in common." (Acts ii. 44.)
This is the first instance of _real_ communism that ever occurred
in the world, and it was the logical product of the teachings of
our Lord and his apostles. That it was the logical product, could
be easily shown by argument on the language of Scripture; but it
suffices that it was approved by Peter and the other apostles. They
knew best; and, indeed, gave example by becoming members of the
community. That it was the first instance of real communism, we
assert without forgetting the Essenes, the Lacedemonians, and the
like, from whose systems it is easy to distinguish the apostolic
community of goods.
And here we ask particular attention to the grand and glorious trait
which distinguishes Christian _reductionism_[185] from socialism,
agrarianism, coöperation, and all other worldly plans of association.
The object of worldly association is merely to benefit its own
members in secular welfare. It has no outflowing. It is a partnership
for distribution of products, profits, pleasure, or knowledge among
the members, contributors, or coöperators only. Thus it was with the
Essenes. The principle and purpose of their community of goods was
_not_ the extension of its benefits to the neighbor. They had and
enjoyed their wealth among themselves exclusively. Their associations
were just as selfish as any individual; the only difference being
that in one case it is a single person and in the other a company
that is selfish, and clannishly withholds its own from the rest of
the world. They did not practise true charity, that charity which
goes beyond home. The communication of the Essenes began and _ended_
at home. It did not, therefore, resemble the Christian charity
described by St. Paul; they had no idea of it. Modern society
has many examples of participation like that of the Essenes. The
free-masons and other mutual aid societies are of this kind.
Of course, reciprocity or coöperation existed in the apostolic
community; but this was only incidental and secondary. One of the
main elements of charity is its universality, and therefore it
extends far beyond mere mutuality. It gives--it is not a contract
of exchange or insurance. Associations of the Christian kind do not
limit themselves to themselves. Besides mutual help, they give help
to any and all men. Indeed, most frequently Christian charitable
institutions entirely lose sight of any mutuality. The members, as
it were, forget themselves individually, think of no restitution,
and have their whole attention and sentiments, with those of the
company, fixed beyond their own wants and upon the alleviation of
the burdens and pains of the poor in general. Every reader knows of
many illustrations of this difference. We need not mention particular
cases.
Indeed, the very nature of Christian charity precludes the limiting
of benefits to the members of a society. Therefore, the moment any
company resolves to contribute or work for the purpose of a division
among its own members exclusively, it can have no claim to be acting
on the principle of charity. Charity ignores any such distinction;
she tends toward all men indiscriminately; she feels for them all
alike, as brethren and neighbors; she sympathizes with all; she is
spontaneous, she is expansive, she radiates. She loves; and her love
overflows: then runs in diverging rills to every door.
Association recommends itself to the Christian from other
considerations than those of economy, security against want,
multiplication of productions, and increase of wealth. He enters into
association to increase his power with God, to attract grace, to
set up a common defence against sin, to have the strength of union
against Satan, to have more time and opportunity to do good, and
to do it more efficiently. The fundamental motive of the Christian
throughout is love of God and man, piety and mercy. It is the spirit
of sacrifice; it is actuated by no prospect of self-advantage; or,
at worst, it expects personal advantage only through and under the
universal good. This was the absolute self-abnegation and exuberance
of love out of which the apostolic community spontaneously sprang.
It is an error to suppose that the primitive Christians abandoned
their community of things upon their first dispersion or flight from
persecution. (Acts viii. 1.) It continued long afterward, as we learn
from the fathers of the church. Justin Martyr, (_Apol._ c. 2,)
describing Christian society as it was in his time, (A.D. 150,) says,
"We who formerly delighted in adultery, now observe the strictest
chastity; we who used the charms of magic, have devoted ourselves
to the true God; and we who valued money and gain above all
things, now _cast what we have in common, and distribute to every
man according to his necessities_."
The writings of other primitive fathers contain similar passages.
It needs no argument to make a Catholic see how the _solemn_ vows of
poverty, chastity, and obedience must be a development or consequence
of the manners and customs of the primitive Christians. Even in
Justin's time, community of goods was the prevailing practice among
Christians; but as the faith spread itself widely, and as whole
nations were converted, the great majority were incapable of that
intense zeal and of those aspiring sentiments that may achieve
perfection. Those who aimed so high were in a small minority when
counted apart from the total population; and they found it necessary
to seek freedom and escape persecution by resorting to solitude,
or to fortify themselves against the general lukewarmness by
solemn vows, or to resist the influence of the world by separate
association. Hence, at first, those who sought to attain perfection
fled to the desert, imitating the ancient prophets. They were
the Theban hermits or anchorites. Then appeared companionship in
mortification in the unital homes of the cenobites and monks. Then,
long afterward, came the companies of militant charity: the Jesuits,
Sisters of Charity, Lazarists, and many others.
Persons who wish to rise above the ordinary degree of piety, above
the common level of Catholic practice, generally attempt full
perfection. Animated by the spirit of self-sacrifice and an ardent
desire to imitate our Lord, they not only devote themselves to
poverty and obedience, but also to chastity. They are not content
with less than the three vows, the fulness of perfection.
Just here, we wish the reader's attention to an important point,
through which we expect to arrive at a solution of the questions
propounded in the beginning of this article. It is that, though
generally we see the "three vows" practised together, we would
be in error if we supposed that they are inseparable, and that
Catholicity admits only of the two extremes--the common level or
triple perfection. On the contrary, among the wonders and beauties of
Catholicity there is the wonder and the beauty of her myri-multiform
adaptability to the holy wants of all dispositions, tastes, and
nationalities. The plasticity with which Catholicity suits herself
(without deterioration and with always an upward tendency) to every
degree and variety, of practical virtue, is marvellous. She is,
indeed, all things to all men without ceasing to be the spouse of
Christ. Hence, within her fold there are, besides the common law
of faith and discipline, multitudes of approved forms of devotion,
giving egress and exteriority to every peculiarity of good impulse
the soul may experience. There are saints of every trade, occupation,
habitude, and condition to be imitated. There are many kinds of
confraternities, sodalities, societies, and orders--both lay and
clerical--formed to accomplish every good work. The number of
these ways, rules, methods, forms, and associations is so great, a
description of them all fills volumes.
Sometimes a number of laymen combine to do a charitable work without
forming any vow. Often they make only _simple_ vows; but many engage
themselves by _solemn_ vows. In some cases the counsel of chastity
is followed without that of poverty; the secular priesthood is an
example of this kind. Sometimes the vow of poverty has been made
without that of celibacy, as in the case of Ananias and Saphira.
St. Barnabas, in the first century; Saints Justin, Julian, and
Lucian, in the second century; Saint Clement of Alexandria,
Tertullian, Origen, and St. Cyprien, in the third century; and
Arnobius and Lactantius, in the fourth century, say (Bergier, vol.
i. p. 380) that between Christians all things were in common; but
we easily gather from other statements and allusions in their works
that they did not mean a community by _virtue of any positive_
RIGHT or precept. They meant the generous liberality, the voluntary
self-sacrifice, that characterized the manners and customs of the
Christians. None asserted conjoint ownership or other _title_
to their neighbor's property, nor did any pretend to demand
authoritatively, as the obligation of a contract, a participation or
use exigible by virtue of the membership of Christ; but all, actuated
by Christian fellow-feeling, gave spontaneously and freely, so that
none were allowed to suffer from want of subsistence. The effect was
the same, or better, than if all things were in common by virtue of
a legal obligation or contract. It was the same as if all Christians
had made a solemn vow to deprive themselves, in order to be able
to relieve all cases of suffering poverty they knew of. The vow of
poverty has no other temporal object. Its theory is the doctrine of
charity, not that of any natural social right.
Gradually this unmeasured charity appeared to diminish; for the
whole empire being theoretically though not practically converted to
Christianity, the Christians at heart were lost in the immense crowd
of merely nominal believers, and were but partially able to know
each other and communicate. At the same time, so widely and deeply
corrupt were the people, even the poor, that _charity herself was
forced to be cautious_. In fact, the number of sincere Christians,
and therefore of charitable persons, had not diminished; but was so
small _in proportion_ to the number of the distressed, that even by
bestowing their all they could produce no sensible diminution of the
general misery.
The situation was almost identical with that of the present time; and
the plainest remedy would have been then, _as it would be now_, a
great augmentation of the number of Christians imbued with the spirit
of charity and disposed to self-sacrifice.
The Catholic Church made many glorious efforts to effect this
cure by increasing the number of the faithful and true, and by
organizing her charitable agencies. She gave birth to those missions
and institutions by which the spiritual nature and intention of
Christianity was preserved, perpetuated, and disseminated, even
through barbarian conquest and feudal oppression. To be able to
devote themselves to promoting their own and their neighbor's
salvation, and to help the sick, the oppressed, and the poor,
the members of the monastic and chivalric orders generally bound
themselves by "three vows;" and if they ever omitted any one of the
three, it was the vow of poverty. The holy knights, for instance,
frequently vowed themselves to chastity and obedience; but not always
to poverty. Chastity and obedience are not considerably thwarted by
the possession of worldly riches; and they may without very serious
detriment dispense with the restraints of poverty: but poverty is
very difficult without chastity; for the hardships of poverty are
grievously multiplied by the necessity of providing for a family.
Hence, even in the remotest times, the orders have added the vow of
chastity to that of poverty.
Doubtless there have been, since apostolic times, many isolated
instances of the vow of poverty being made by _an entire_ FAMILY.
Among the tertiary or lay brethren of the regular orders, cases of
such a combination might easily have happened. We take it for granted
that if a husband _and_ wife make the vow of poverty, they would
(if otherwise correct) be accepted as a tertiary or lay brother and
sister of any regular order bound by the three vows, such as the
Franciscans, Jesuits, etc. We know, however, of only one recorded
instance of there having existed, since apostolic times, a distinctly
and duly organized congregation, sodality, company, or community of
_married_ Catholics living under the obligations of a solemn or even
simple vow of poverty. The schismatics or heretics cannot even adduce
a single instance; for, as already noted, their societies are not
willingly poor, but the object of their association is comfort and
wealth.
The one instance I refer to is that of the Jesuit REDUCTIONS in
Paraguay.
Yet, long before the beautiful results obtained by the Jesuit fathers
in Paraguay, the good such establishments might do had been clearly
foreseen by excellent and learned Catholics. That confessor of the
faith, Sir Thomas More, who was beheaded by Henry VIII. for refusing
the oath of supremacy, wrote the first _Utopia_, founded on the idea
of a community of goods among a whole people. Since that day the
idea has fermented, and will not allow the world to rest until it is
practically fulfilled by a _Christian_ people; for it is a Christian
idea, based only on Christian motives, and wholly impracticable
outside of the Christian religion. It was to emulate the example
set by the Jesuits that several Christian, though schismatic or
heretical, societies have been partially successful in realizing this
idea. These are the Moravians, Rappists, Shakers, and Ballouists; but
we are satisfied the work of realization must be resumed by Catholic
hands, and with Catholic motives, and on Catholic grounds, before it
can be permanently and beautifully successful.
Here several questions present themselves together:
1. What are the distinctive motives and grounds of an apostolic
reduction to the rule of community?
2. What essential Catholic conditions should the organic rule of such
an establishment embody?
3. Would such establishments tend to disseminate the faith and
strengthen the church?
4. Are the times propitious, and do surrounding circumstances demand
missionary attention to this matter?
5. Is there place in the economy of the church militant for the
operation of communities of families having property in common?
We fear that the editor would not allow the space necessary for an
elaborate answer to these questions. We will therefore endeavor to be
very brief.
1. A socialist would say that the only motive for association
is a desire to better our worldly condition; that, therefore,
association is recommendable only so far as it facilitates increased
production, thorough economy, equitable distribution, and greater
security; and that it is only by convincing men of these tangible
advantages that they will be induced to give up individualism for
combinism. So their phalansteries and familisteries are nothing
but contrivances to save and gain time, labor, and money for the
benefit of the company, and in rivalry with, and exclusive of, every
other company and the remainder of mankind. It is only the old
principle of self-interest, covetousness, greed of gain, love of
money, exercised by partnerships or corporations instead of single
persons. Thus, some of these companies will get very rich, while
others, though burning with covetousness and discontent, will fall
into great poverty. But besides selfish motives moving men, there
are others more powerful and certainly more Christian. For instance,
a _catholic_ community of goods would rest on directly the opposite
of self-interest, and be induced by charity counteracting the excess
of egoism. True, as in the other case, association would be only a
means, and also a guarantee of safety, economy, and increase; but
how different the ulterior object! The final causes of a catholic
"reduction" to community of goods would be: (1) to live apart from
the evil example of the world; (2) to sustain and encourage one
another in the faith and its practices; (3) to secure the rearing
of children in the practice of religion; (4) to be able to hear
mass oftener, and indulge more frequently and expansively in prayer
and other sweet and consoling devotions; (5) to save and increase
wealth indeed, though _not for self_, not for the company and its
members beyond the absolute necessities of life, but _for external
charity_--distribution among the poor neighbors, or the establishment
of similar companies; (6) the "reductionists" (We venture to
generalize the name they had in Paraguay) would work in a spirit of
self-sacrifice to please God; (7) they would offer up their voluntary
privations as acts of love, penance, and prayer; (8) they would
be actuated by aspirations to merit grace and attain perfection;
(9) be moved by a desire to display faith before the world, and
to concentrate its light so that it might radiate far and wide;
and finally, (10,) they would cherish the thought that their zeal
might be efficient in strengthening the influence, facilitating the
operations, and increasing the glory of the church. What an immense
difference between reductionism and socialism!
2. The essential conditions of such an association would be the
vows of poverty and obedience, under such sanctions and guarantees
and inspired by such hopes as only the Catholic Church can give;
and, since the society would admit persons living in marriage, and
since the church teaches the indissolubility of the marriage-tie,
the _unity of the consent_ of husband _and_ wife to the acceptance
of these vows previous to admission. The vow of poverty would be
a _sine qua non_, since without it the society would be liable to
the precariousness of all secular enterprises; and since, also,
without this vow the society would not have the mark, the trait,
the essential quality that distinguishes disinterested reductionism
from riches-and-comfort-seeking socialism. The vow of obedience to
a superior authority, such as a clerical director or a bishop, is
also indispensable. Those who have had opportunity of observing the
interior operation of a socialist or Protestant association must
be fully sensible of the importance of this condition. They are
distracted by divided counsels, inconsistencies of purpose, obstinacy
and pride of opinions, rival ambitions, and the like. The end is
generally ruin. They only succeed in proportion to such _modicum_
of humility and obedience as they have contrived to incorporate in
their rules and intention. Sometimes it is only the acknowledged
superiority and energy of character of a founder or leader that
preserves the organization. As soon as this personage dies, his
creature goes also into dissolution. Hence, we say the vital
conditions of a "reduction" are, (1) Christian fervor; (2) Christian
humility; (3) Christian marriage; (4) Christian poverty, and (5)
Catholic obedience.
3. We have before us an account of the Paraguay missions, from which
we copy the following passage, (p. 52),
"It sometimes happened that the number thus collected was far too
great to admit of their being received as permanent dwellers in
the 'reduction;' and in this case their instructors would furnish
all that was needed for _the founding of a new one_, not only
supplying corn, cattle, and clothing from their own stores, but
giving what, to an Indian, was most difficult to bestow, their
active and personal coöperation in _building a new 'reduction.'_"
This extract answers the question whether such a company would tend
to disseminate the faith and strengthen the church. The process
of increase would be in geometrical proportion. Each reduction
would have several offspring, and these, in turn, would also each
evolve several others. This was the case in Paraguay. There, in a
few years, the reductions became so numerous that they lined the
banks of the Parana and Uruguay, extended far into the interior,
and, in the words of an historian, formed "a Christian republic,
where, far from the dwellings and evil designs of the colonists,
the spirit of the primitive church revived." Alas! that this caused
the envy and jealousy of the world of avarice and ambition. In one
more generation, if the Jesuit fathers had not been banished, the
Christian republic would have been permanently established. The
glorious example they set should not remain fruitless. There is a
possibility of similar work and similar results in the midst of the
moral desert of civilization. It is time that the shepherds should
gather their lambs into visible and safer folds. The lambs should
not be left to straggle among the wolves of this moral wilderness.
Surely the fact of these straggling members of the flock being
married should be no objection to their being provided with a refuge
when the couple seek it with unity of will, and would fain find in it
the opportunity of serving God. Surely, the fructification of such
a work would be wonderful; for its beneficence and Christian spirit
would be so apparent that thousands of poor Catholics would eagerly
join it, and tens of thousands of lost sheep would be reconverted so
as to follow the religious and beautiful life thus made practically
possible. This power of multiplying themselves, this productiveness
by thirty, seventy, and a hundred fold, is a peculiarity of this kind
of association; for, while socialistic and coöperative societies
are concentric, a Christian association or reduction, by virtue of
its voluntary self-privation and consequent making of a disposable
surplus, and by virtue of its desire to bestow in charity this
surplus, is evolutive and prolific.
4. Surrounding circumstances in these times not only demand the
attention of the church to the subject of association, but the
world now offers facilities which, though very different from those
that existed in Paraguay, are far more favorable and congenial. In
Paraguay, the reverend fathers found people capable of discipline,
but barbarous, ignorant, and suspicious. In civilization to-day,
instead of savage ignorance, we see foolish infidelity and moral
corruption; but, at the same time, a belief in the benefits of
association is spreading itself continually. This belief evinces
itself in every direction. It resolves and attempts a great many
forms of combination. The conviction that good will flow from the
industrial association of those who labor is becoming more and more
intense. Several secular efforts, based on mere worldly advantage or
mutuality, have proved seriously successful. The tendency of work and
business is toward the organization of corporations. The capitalists
have set the example by their monster companies and monopolies.
The plain deduction is, that this tendency affords a favorable
opportunity for forming reductions. To neglect it would be to neglect
making all things work together unto good to such as, according to
God's purpose, are called to be saints. (Rom. viii. 28.)
5. To say that there is no place for communities of families in the
economy of the church, would be to deny her beautiful adaptability to
all grades and varieties of virtue and good works. That she should
reject and oppose socialism, with its _cortége_ of free love, heresy,
blasphemy, covetousness, naturalism, and woman's dispersion, let us
loudly declare; but to say that there should be in the system of the
church a place only for such apostolic communities as are composed
of celibates, would be to condemn her history, which tells us of
the community at Jerusalem, and of the reductions of Paraguay. We
cannot suppose there is a grade or kind of real perfection that the
church would reject, if, indeed, that grade or kind be in conformity
with evangelical counsel. It is said that keeping the vow of poverty
would be too hard for married people, who are naturally impelled to
seek riches for the sake of their children. It is said that parental
bias, solicitude, and duty would create great obstacles, hard to be
overcome. Supposing this, still we say, all things are possible _with
God_. The merit of those who, with God, could conciliate these two
obligations, and accomplish both, would only be greater in the eyes
of the church. Certainly, no Catholic will say that the counsels
in regard to voluntary poverty are meant only for celibates, and
that only celibates are entitled to gain the consequent blessings.
"Blessed are the" willingly "poor, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven." Certainly, a man and wife are entitled to earn the benefits
of this willing poverty as well as any monk or nun. The married
poor are entitled to make the same sacrifice and take part in the
same work to enhance the glory of the church, and to merit the same
reward. Association makes the sacrifice and the work possible to the
celibate. It creates a similar possibility for married people. The
wondrous powers of combined labor and economy are well known. The
fields in that direction are wide and free, and ready for _good_
seed. Instead of thinking that associations of married people are
in any wise incompatible with Catholic doctrine and discipline, a
little reflection will convince us that it is, on the contrary, the
long-neglected link that completes the circle of good works. Infidels
would fain seize the position, and try to adapt it to naturalism and
cupidity; but their attempts have been simply ridiculous. The reason
is obvious: the vow of poverty and all its consequences is possible
only in and through the motives inspired by the Christian religion.
They cannot exist and cannot be imitated outside. True association,
that which is productive of moral good and social happiness, that
which springs from charity, _belongs_ to Christianity, and it is
impossible to separate it from her. It was practised by the primitive
disciples, it was praised and taught by the fathers of the church, it
was and still is fulfilled by the celibates in the monasteries, it
was successfully applied in the reductions to a whole people; and we
conclude that the place once occupied by saintly tribes and families
under the wing of the church is still vacant and open to their return
and reëstablishment.
FOOTNOTE:
[185] We make the word from the name the Jesuit fathers gave to their
establishments in Paraguay. They called them _Reductions_.
THE PRESENT CONDITION OF POLAND.
America owes a debt of gratitude to the Polish nation. In the darkest
days of our struggle for independence many brave Poles came to our
assistance. The name of Pulaski stands among the most honored names
of the Revolution. To-day we are on a most friendly footing and
possess much influence with Russia. She is crushing Poland to the
earth in a manner which is a disgrace to the nineteenth century.
Shall we be silent when our voice might bring aid to a noble but
unfortunate people, who generously assisted us in the hour of need?
Justice and gratitude both forbid.
The unprecedented and truly pitiful condition to which the former
Polish provinces have been reduced by Muscovite tyranny makes it
a duty, which we owe likewise to our common humanity, to direct
attention to that ill-used country, and to illustrate somewhat in
detail the intolerable religious, political, and social chaos into
which it has been precipitated. The idea of restoring the ancient
Sarmatian monarchy to its territorial integrity might justly be
deemed Utopian; but we have still the right to insist, in the name
of every recognized principle of moral and public law, that the
inconsequence and barbarity with which Russian Poland, and especially
Congress Poland, is now being treated, should cease. No one capable
of appreciating the extent of the evil can fail to perceive that
such an anomalous state of things as there obtains is absolutely
insufferable, and that even Muscovite brutality cannot much longer
expect to avert another revolution. The eventualities of the Polish
question demand, therefore, for this reason alone, the serious and
early interference of the great powers.
To enable the reader to arrive at a thorough understanding of the
question, it is necessary that we should commence by casting a brief
glance at the present religious condition of the country. It is well
known that the Roman Catholic Church, which is professed by six
sevenths of the Christian and five sevenths of the total population
of the kingdom--the church which has the deepest and strongest hold
upon the social and historical life, the customs and character of
the nation--has, during the last six years, been systematically
degraded, both _de facto_ and officially, to the rank of a mere
schism. The Archbishop of Poland, expressly selected for the primacy
by the Emperor Alexander on account of his probity and virtues, was
deposed after a twelve months' incumbency without charges, trial,
or sentence. The sole excuse for this harsh treatment was that he
presumed to remonstrate against the extreme severity with which the
most trivial political offences of his countrymen were punished. The
venerable prelate is now a close prisoner of state in the interior
of Russia. His place in the archiepiscopal palace is filled by
a Russian, Tschinownik, of the Greek orthodox stamp, who wields
absolute sway over the "sectarian" churches--as the Roman Catholic
and the evangelic are called--and entertains a select circle of
friends with Russo-French amateur theatricals in the apartments in
which Tijalewski and Felinski once meditated and prayed.