We must repeat it. If Mr. Tuttle, during the four years which he has

passed in Berlin, had been a pensioner of the “reptile fund,” he could

not have written more unworthily.

FAITH AND MODERN THOUGHT. By Ransom B. Welch, D.D., LL.D.,

Professor in Union College. With introduction by Tayler

Lewis, LL.D. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons. 1876.

Contrary to the intention of the author, the title of his work is

absurdly tautological, when interpreted by its contents. The

impression conveyed by the title page would lead us to expect, did in

point of fact lead us to expect, at least an orderly and careful

analysis of the subjects chosen. In this we have been disappointed,

not by the good-will with which the author labors, but by his want of

success. The work is composed of six chapters which might have been

published independently of one another. Of these the first is valuable

as an aggressive demonstration of the materialistic and irrational

tendency of certain modern professors. The fifth and, perhaps, the

sixth possess a similar value; while the rest of the book, although

fairly written, is comparatively worthless.

The author is manifestly devoted to Christianity; his mind is

sensitive to the repulsive features of modern heathenism; he seeks to

defend the nobler order of ideas. But the trouble is that his brief is

not full. He does not know his case. His theological speculations are

crude even to rawness, and the _point d’appui_ of his structure is not

only vague and inconsistent, but is shored up with declamation which

serves to impart an additional appearance of insecurity to that which

is already feeble. It is rather ludicrous to behold an evangelical

Protestant, at this late day, endeavoring to undo the whole work of

the Reformation, by trying to make faith appear reasonable, or by

seeking other grounds for it than his own interior inspiration.

Nevertheless, this is a step in the right direction. The writer claims

to be a searcher after truth. If so, we can scarcely imagine that he

will rest satisfied with his present work. The faith which gave to

Christianity its organization, and which converted the ancient world,

is no such vague chimera as the shadowy and subjective persuasion to

which the author clings. The pious wish and conviction to which Dr.

Welch adheres may serve to occupy and quiet his own active mind; but

it is less than impotent to compel the assent of others. Dr. Welch

seeks to call attention to the ideas contained in the Bible. He must

have sense enough to perceive that this very attempt is something

beyond his ability, and implies a living power having the right and

capacity to speak for the Bible. Men will not listen to Dr. Welch in

his well-meant endeavor to obtain a hearing. The inconsequent and

abortive assumption on the part of the author of that duty which used

to be accomplished by the teaching church, and which belongs to her or

else to nobody, and the futile effort to give a coherent account of

how he gets from a conviction of the necessity of revelation to belief

in evangelical Protestantism, will nullify that part of the work which

is good and render it merely another stumbling-block in the way of

thoughtful men. We trust that it will do as little harm as possible,

and that the author will eventually find some other occupation more

congenial to his vigorous and reverent spirit than his present task of

attempting to hold himself and others in unstable equilibrium.

ACHSAH: A NEW ENGLAND LIFE-STUDY. By Rev. Peter Pennot.

Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1876.

This is a capital story, or “study,” as the author very rightly calls

it, of New England life. The character are all _sui generis_, such as

only a small, narrow, sufficiently well-to-do New England town could

produce, while one of them, Deacon Manlius Sterne, is a creation.

Never have we seen that peculiar union of service of God and service

of Mammon, which Christ pronounced to be impossible, so admirably

portrayed as in this typical New England deacon, who himself would be

the first to quote our Lord’s words condemning such service to a

business rival, but who at the same time could very easy satisfy his

own conscience on the matter, and find what he would consider a

religious way out of the difficulty. God’s religion looks a very small

and mean affair among these New England Christians. This very book, we

take it, is a revolt against the sham and littleness of such a life.

The writer seems possessed of the best intentions, though not of the

profoundest knowledge of Christianity. His reflections, for instance,

on the death of Dr. Steinboldt are a little out of place in a

Christian’s mouth. Thus, he apostrophizes death: “Sent of God, to rich

and poor alike, to kings and emperors and peasants, to all nations and

peoples, this good physician comes to fulfil Christ’s crowning promise

of rest to all who are ‘weary and heavy laden.’” To which we say, all

very well; only that in the present instance “this good physician”

happens to come in the form of suicide to a murderer, who, to add to

his delinquencies, was a quack.

It was a mistake of the author, too, to make one of his characters, an

excellent Catholic apparently, attend Protestant service on the

Sunday, instead of going to the Catholic chapel in the town and

hearing Mass. However, he is evidently very favorably inclined towards

Catholics, so we will not quarrel with him on so palpable a slip.

“It has pleased God to give us no very clear idea of the great future,

and so we speculate and wonder and dream, each after the fashion of

his own heart; _and one is quite as likely to be right as another_.

Thank God that he has elevated the mysteries of life and death above

the realms of human reason, and left each to aspire to the future of

his own imagination, to long for the heaven of his own desires.” This

sounds to us little above the Turk’s dream of Paradise, who, by the

bye, according to our author, “is quite as likely to be right” as the

Christian. All this is a mistake. Our Lord has left us something far

more definite to long for than the heaven of our own imagination and

desires.

Again: “Madame Wandl, though a ‘bigoted Catholic,’ was more charitable

than these free and enlightened Dickeyvillians, and, when the two

talked together on matters of religious faith, it was the harmonious

meeting of two extremes of belief, one elevating the humanity of

Christ to the level of godliness, the other reducing the character of

God to the level of a perfect and idealized humanity. Those who read

this page will instantly decide which was right, but out of every ten,

five will decide in one way and five in another; and as for me [the

author], I don’t propose to create a majority one way or the other by

throwing myself into the balance, but shall rest contented if I can

preach Christ’s gospel of love acceptably and intelligently to my

people” (pp. 222, 223).

It seems to us very plain from this and other passages that the Rev.

Peter Pennot is far from having made up his mind as to who Christ is.

He tells us practically, in the passage just quoted, that he will not

say that Christ is at once true God and perfect man. Until he

satisfies himself on this point, it is to be feared that his preaching

of Christ’s gospel of love will not bear much fruit. It is one thing

to preach the Gospel of the Son of God, another to preach the gospel

of a being about whom we entertain great doubts.

We have been led aside by such points as these from the main story.

The author writes so earnestly and honestly that we cannot but look

upon his uncertainty with regret. For the rest, _Achsah_ is as

enjoyable a story as we have read for many a day. The author seems to

us to have all the gifts of a novelist. He has wit, humor, pathos, and

an unforced sarcasm that is very telling. His story runs along without

a halt. There is a pleasant, innocent love-plot, and some highly

sensational matter is introduced in a very unsensational manner.

MEDITATIONS AND CONSIDERATIONS FOR A RETREAT OF ONE DAY IN

EACH MONTH. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1876.

This little book has been composed for the benefit of those who have

or wish to have the most excellent practice of putting aside one day

in the month for a religious retreat. Whatever cultivates in us the

habit of serious reflection upon the affairs of the soul is of

inestimable value, since without some practice of meditation and

self-examination it is almost impossible to lead a religious life; and

we know of nothing better adapted to create in us this reflective

character of mind than what is called the monthly retreat. This

devotion is general in religious communities, but it may also be

easily followed by persons in the world without interfering with the

daily routine of life enough to attract the attention of any one. The

collection of meditations before us will, we hope, encourage many to

make proof of the efficacy of the monthly retreat. We would suggest,

however, that in another edition an introduction be added, giving

explanations concerning the nature and practice of this devotion,

pointing out how persons engaged in worldly occupations may most

easily perform these monthly exercises.

SCIENCE AND RELIGION: A Lecture Delivered at Leeds, England.

By Cardinal Wiseman. St. Louis: Patrick Fox, 10 South Fifth

Street. 1876. (For sale by The Catholic Publication Society.)

This lecture is one of the ablest and most interesting lectures of the

late Cardinal Wiseman. It proves in a conclusive and at the same time

most agreeable manner that “science has nowhere flourished more, or

originated more sublime or useful discoveries, than where it has been

pursued under the influence of the Catholic religion.” In

demonstrating this truth, the eminent writer has given a great number

of facts not generally known to the reading public, which prove the

deep indebtedness of science to Catholic Italy for many of its most

valuable truths and discoveries.

The publisher has done his part in a praiseworthy manner.

REVOLUTIONARY TIMES: Sketches of our Country, its People and

their Ways, one hundred years ago. By Edward Abbott. Boston:

Roberts Brothers. 1876.

This is a very interesting and tastefully printed volume of two

hundred pages, containing a great many items of interest with regard

to the habits and customs of our American forefathers in the beginning

of our national history, a glance at the state of literature, the

press, and education, with many entertaining sketches of the

“worthies” of that period.

From the chapter on “Political Geography” we cull the following

extract, which gives an idea of the style of the work:

“The colonization of the West was yet a dream of the Anglo-Americans,

the designs of France and Spain standing in the way of its fulfilment.

The present great State of Ohio had not a white settlement. St. Louis

was a Spanish town. What is now Indiana had but a single settlement,

that at Vincennes. Detroit was a far-distant outpost sheltering a few

hundred pioneers. This whole region was an unbroken waste, saving at

these few scattered points, which were in large measure military and

trading stations. Over all the Indian had free range. Adventurers were

exploring the lakes and the rivers, and currents of emigration were

only slowly setting in; and on the 9th of October, 1776, three months

after the Declaration of Independence, two Franciscan monks,

indefatigable missionaries of the Roman Church, took possession of the

Pacific coast by the founding of their mission of San Francisco, the

germ of the modern city of that name.”

THE NEW MONTH OF THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS. From the

original French. By S. P. Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham

& Son, 29 South Tenth Street. 1876.

This neat and beautiful little manual cannot but be of service to

every lover of the Sacred Heart, especially at this season of the

year. This month is prolonged into thirty-three days, corresponding

with the thirty-three years of our Saviour’s life upon earth, and is

furnished with appropriate meditations and pious practices, calculated

to inspire devotion and excite the love of Christians towards the

Heart of their Divine Lord. It is sufficient to say of this little

work what the venerable Archbishop of Cincinnati says of it in his

recommendation—that “it is perfectly free from all blemish on the

score of faith, morals, and piety.” Truly, a high commendation.

NOTIONES THEOLOGICÆ CIRCA SEXTUM DECALOGI PRÆCEPTUM. Auctore

D. Craisson. Parisiis: Benziger Bros.; New York: The same.

A certain remnant of Jansenistic rigorism among the French clergy is

assigned by the author of this treatise as one of the reasons which

induced him to write on the subjects indicated by the title of his

book. In the work itself we have failed to discover anything of

importance which may not be found in almost any text-book of moral

theology.

THE CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. XXIII., No. 138.—SEPTEMBER, 1876.

Copyright: Rev. I. T. HECKER. 1876.

THE RISE OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY IN THE UNITED STATES.

The Constitution of the United States has these provisions:

“No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification

to any office or public trust under the United States.”—ART.

VI.

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of

religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”—FIRST

AMENDMENT.

It is thus the case that, as originally framed, the Constitution

simply provided that “no religious test shall ever be required as a

qualification to any office or public trust under the United States,”

but did not, in terms, prohibit Congress from erecting a state

religion or interfering with the free exercise of religion otherwise

than as regards office. The First Amendment was therefore adopted, in

order that, as amended, the Constitution should forbid Congress from

intermeddling in any way whatever with religious matters; and it has

hence passed into the general understanding that the government of the

United States has no religious character or powers whatsoever, but is

purely a secular organization, contrived and devised for purely

secular ends. As stated in the eleventh article of the treaty of Jan.

3, 1797, between the United States and Tripoli, “the government of the

United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian

religion” (_Rev. Stats. U. S._, “Treaties,” p. 756).

It being thus the case that religious liberty, as we now understand

it, did not spring full-orbed and complete into existence in the

United States, it may be of interest to trace the stages of its

development. The provision that “Congress shall make no law respecting

an establishment of religion” owes its immediate origin to the

representations of the conventions of a number of the States upon

adopting the Constitution of the United States (1 _Stats._ 97), such

States being New Hampshire, New York, and Virginia (4 _Journ. Cong._,

1782-8, App. pp. 52, 53, 55). Back of these representations lay a

first cause which can only be understood by a reference to the

condition of the colonies at the outbreak of the Revolution. From _A

View of the Constitution of the British Colonies in North America and

the West Indies, at the time the Civil War broke out on the Continent

of America_—a work published in London in 1783 by Anthony Stokes (a

loyalist Welshman, who, as a barrister in the British West Indies from

1762 to 1769, and the royal Chief-Justice of Georgia from 1769 to

1783, had peculiar opportunities of becoming conversant with his

topic)—we learn that the Church of England was established by law in

most of the colonies in 1776. The _View_ says: “The clergy in America

do not receive tithes, but in most of the colonies before the civil

war (except the New England provinces, where the Independents had the

upper hand) an Act of Assembly was made to divide the colony into

parishes, and to establish religious worship therein according to the

rites and ceremonies of the Church of England; and also to raise a

yearly salary for the support of each parochial minister” (p. 199).

With the exception of South Carolina, our author does not specify by

name the colonies in which this system obtained, but from other

sources we have that information. The charter of New Hampshire

provided “that liberty of conscience shall be allowed to all

Protestants, and that such especially as shall be conformable to the

rites of the Church of England shall be particularly countenanced and

encouraged,” which substantial establishment existed in that colony up

to the Revolution (Town of Pawlet _v._ Clark, 9 Cr. 292). The first

constitution of New York, that of April 20, 1777, recognizes a like

establishment by providing for the abrogation of “all such parts of

the common and statute law, and acts of Assembly, as establish any

denomination of Christians or their ministers.” Dr. David Ramsay, the

contemporary historian of the Revolution, says: “In Connecticut all

persons were obliged to contribute to the support of the church as

well as the commonwealth.… The Congregational churches were adopted

and established by law” (1 _Hist. U. S._, p. 150); also: “The Church

of England was incorporated simultaneously with the first settlement

of Virginia, and in the lapse of time it also became the established

religion of Maryland. In both these provinces, long before the

American Revolution, that church possessed a legal pre-eminence, and

was maintained at the expense not only of its own members but of all

other denominations” (_id._ p. 220). As to the establishment of the

Church of England in Virginia, see also Terrett _v._ Taylor, 9 Cr. 43.

From art. 34 of the first constitution of North Carolina, that of Dec.

18, 1776, which inhibits taxation “for the purchase of any glebe, or

the building of any house of worship, or for the maintenance of any

minister or ministry,” it is inferrible that a like establishment

existed in that colony. In South Carolina Chief-Justice Stokes

mentions the Church of England as established by law (_View_, p. 199),

and the constitution of that State of March 19, 1778, secured “the

churches, chapels, parsonages, glebes, and all other property now

belonging to any societies of the Church of England, or any other

religious societies” (art. 38). In Georgia the Church of England was

established by colonial statute of March 15, 1758 (_Watkins’ Dig._

52). In Massachusetts a colonial statute of 1716 established a

compulsory religious establishment which remained up to the framing of

the State constitution in 1780, the Assembly providing all towns

declining to do so for themselves with “a minister qualified as by law

is provided”—namely, “an able, learned, orthodox minister, of good

conversation”—and imposing taxes for his support (Chalmers’ _Colonial

Opinions_, p. 49; I Ramsay, _Hist. U. S._, p. 150).

From the foregoing it will be gathered that at the outbreak of the

American Revolution some form of church establishment ordained by law

was familiar to the people of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New

Hampshire, New York, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South

Carolina, and Georgia. “In Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and

New Jersey there never was any established religion” (I Ramsay, _Hist.

U. S._, p. 232). One of the incidents of the religious establishments

in the colonies where they existed was that the clergy thereunder were

governmental appointees. In Massachusetts, under the act of 1716, the

Assembly settled ministers in the unprovided towns; in Maryland the

proprietary had the advowsons (Chalm. _Col. Op._, 42); and in the

provincial establishments or king’s governments, as New Hampshire, New

York, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, the royal

governor had the right of collation or appointment (Stokes’ _View_, p.

199). Another incident was the church rates or taxes, above referred

to. At the outbreak of the Revolution, then, two-thirds of the

colonies were face to face with a religion established or favored by

law; with a clergy appointed by government; and a general taxation to

uphold one and maintain the other. The dissatisfaction thus engendered

is best evidenced by the care which the people of the colonies, then

States, took, in framing their constitutions, to forbid the

continuance of such a system where it then existed, or to prevent its

adoption where it was not as yet known.

The New Jersey constitution of July 2, 1776, provided “that there

shall be no establishment of any one religious sect in this province

in preference to another” (art. 19); “nor shall any person within this

colony ever be obliged to pay tithes, taxes, or any other rates for

the purposes of building or repairing any church or churches, place or

places of worship, or for the maintenance of any minister or ministry,

contrary to what he believes to be right or has deliberately and

voluntarily engaged himself to perform” (art. 18); and so sacred were

these provisions deemed that an oath was prescribed for all members of

the legislature, engaging them never to assent to any law, vote, or

proceeding to annul, repeal, or alter any part or parts thereof (art.

23).

The Virginia constitution of July 5, 1776, declares “that religion, or

the duty which we owe to our Creator, and the manner of discharging

it, can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force and

violence; and therefore all men are equally entitled to the free

exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience, and

that it is the mutual duty of all to practise Christian forbearance,

love, and charity toward each other” (art. 16); and while this does

not in terms equal the New Jersey provisions _ante_, the Supreme Court

of the United States has construed it as equipollent, saying in

Terrett _v._ Taylor, 9 Cr. 43: “Consistent with the constitution of

Virginia, the legislature could not create or continue a religious

establishment which should have exclusive rights and prerogatives, or

compel the citizens to worship under a stipulated form or discipline,

or to pay taxes to those whose creed they could not conscientiously

believe.”

The constitution of Delaware of Sept. 20, 1776, provides: “No man

shall, or ought to, be compelled to attend any religious worship, to

contribute to the erection or support of any place of worship, or to

the maintenance of any ministry, against his free-will and consent.…

Nor shall a preference be given by law to any religious societies,

denomination, or modes of worship” (art. 1, § 1).

The North Carolina constitution of Dec. 18, 1776, provides “that there

shall be no establishment of any one religious church or denomination

in this State in preference to any other; neither shall any person, on

any pretence whatsoever, be compelled to attend any place of worship

contrary to his own faith or judgment, nor be obliged to pay for the

purchase of any glebe, or the building of any house of worship, or for

the maintenance of any minister or ministry, contrary to what he

believes right or has voluntarily and personally engaged to perform”

(art. 34).

The Georgia constitution of Feb. 5, 1777, says: “All persons whatever

shall have the free exercise of their religion, provided it be not

repugnant to the peace and safety of the State; and shall not, unless

by consent, support any teacher or teachers, except those of their own

profession” (art. 56).

The New York constitution of April 20, 1777, abrogates “all such parts

of the common and statute law, and acts of Assembly, as establish any

denomination of Christians or their ministers.”

The early constitutions of Maryland, South Carolina, and Massachusetts

enunciated substantially the same principles as the other organic laws

above set forth, but did not entirely destroy the connection of church

and state. The Maryland constitution of Aug. 14, 1776, says: “Nor

ought any person to be compelled to frequent, or maintain, or

contribute, unless on contract, to maintain any particular place of

worship or any particular ministry: (yet the legislature may, in their

discretion, lay a general and equal tax for the support of the

Christian religion; leaving to each individual the power of appointing

the payment over of the money collected from him to the support of any

particular place of worship, or minister, or for the poor of his own

denomination, or the poor in general of any particular county).”

The South Carolina constitution of March 19, 1778, says: “No person

shall by law be obliged to pay towards the maintenance and support of

a religious worship that he does not freely join in or has not

voluntarily engaged to support” (art. 38), but in the same article

ordains that “the Christian Protestant religion shall be deemed, and

is hereby constituted and declared to be, the established religion of

this State,” extending this description to “all denominations of

Christian Protestants in this State.”

The Massachusetts constitution of March 2, 1780, says: “No

subordination of any sect or denomination to another shall ever be

established by law” (part i. art. 3), but allowed taxation to support

“public Protestant teachers of piety, religion, and morality in all

cases where such provision shall not be made voluntarily” (_id._),

with this qualification, however: that “all moneys paid by the subject

to the support of public worship and of the public teachers aforesaid

shall, if he require it, be uniformly applied to the support of the

public teacher or teachers of his own religious sect or denomination,

provided there be any, on whose instruction he attends; otherwise it

may be paid towards the support of the teacher or teachers of the

parish or precinct in which the said moneys are raised” (_id._)

If we state correctly—as we have not those documents by us—the New

Hampshire constitution of June 2, 1784, provided that “no person of

any one particular religious sect or denomination shall ever be

compelled to pay towards the support of the teacher or teachers of

another persuasion, sect, or denomination, … and no subordination of

any one sect or denomination to another shall ever be established by

law” (part i. art. 6), but that, subject to these provisions, the

legislature might authorize local taxation to support “public

Protestant teachers of piety, religion, and morality” (_id._); and the

Pennsylvania constitution of Sept. 28, 1776, provided “that no man

can, of right, be compelled to attend, erect, or support any place of

worship or to maintain any ministry against his consent, … and that no

preference shall ever be given by law to any religious establishments

or modes of worship.” In Connecticut and Rhode Island the royal

charter continued the fundamental law until 1818 in the former and

1842 in the latter State; but, lest it may be thought that in these

States no opposition to an established church was manifested, it is

proper to remark that, upon ratifying the Constitution of the United

States, the Rhode Island Convention suggested as a highly desirable

amendment “that no particular religious sect or society ought to be

favored or established by law in preference to others” (1 Elliot Deb.

334); and in the Connecticut Convention Oliver Wolcott, in urging the

ratification of that instrument, refers to an inclination in that

assemblage to favor a like amendment, and says: “Knowledge and liberty

are so prevalent in this country that I do not believe that the United

States would ever be disposed to establish one religious sect, and lay

all others under legal disabilities. But as we know not what may take

place hereafter, and any such test would be exceedingly injurious to

the rights of free citizens, I cannot think it altogether superfluous

to have added a clause which secures us from the possibility of such

oppression” (2 Elliot Deb. 202).

We may thus say that, upon becoming States, the American colonies

declared with one voice that no religious establishment should possess

a legal pre-eminence in their several jurisdictions. In the Federal

Convention Charles Pinckney proposed to make it a part of the

Constitution of the United States that “the legislature of the United

States shall pass no law on the subject of religion” (_Journ._, May

29), and thus apply to the general government the rule previously

adopted by the States, which proposition failed. Mr. Pinckney then

submitted this proposition: “No religious test or qualification shall

ever be annexed to any oath of office under the authority of the

United States” (_Journ._, Aug. 20), which was unanimously adopted

(_Journ._, Aug. 30), Mr. Madison giving us this much of the debate:

“Mr. Pinckney moved to add: ‘But no religious test shall ever be

required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the

authority of the United States.’ Mr. Sherman thought it unnecessary,

the prevailing liberality being a sufficient security against such

tests. Mr. Gouverneur Morris and Gen. Pinckney approved the motion.

The motion was agreed to, _nem. con._” (5 Elliot Deb. 498). Upon the

final revision the words “the authority of” were struck out (_Journ._,

Sept. 12). When the Constitution was submitted for ratification,

considerable uneasiness was manifested at the failure of Mr.

Pinckney’s resolution that “the legislature of the United States shall

pass no law on the subject of religion,” and upon ratifying the

instrument the New Hampshire, New York, and Virginia Conventions urged

the adoption of an amendment to that effect. The North Carolina

Convention, while declining to ratify at its first session, assigned

the same emendation as desirable, as did also the Rhode Island

Convention upon ratifying; though, as the First Amendment had then

been proposed by Congress and was before the people, the action of

Rhode Island was not one of the causes leading to its submission. The

New Hampshire Convention recommended this amendment: “That Congress

shall make no laws touching religion or to infringe the rights of

conscience” (4 _Journ. Cong._, 1782-8, App. p. 52). The New York

Convention: “That no religious sect or society ought to be favored or

established by law in preference to others” (_id._ p. 55). The

Virginia (_id._ p. 53), North Carolina (_id._ p. 60), and Rhode Island

(1 Elliot Deb. 334) Conventions severally proposed “that no particular

religious sect or society ought to be favored or established by law in

preference to others.” In the Maryland Convention it was suggested as

a desirable amendment “that there be no national religion established

by law”; but, that body concluding to ratify the Constitution without

proposing amendments at that time, no final action was had on the

proposition (2 Elliot Deb. p. 553); and thereupon the change was made.

Thus it became a part of the Constitution of the United States that

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.”

In many, perhaps we may say most, other particulars the Constitution

was, when framed, an experiment, but in this the fathers of the

republic had the lamp of experience to illuminate their path. While a

myth to us, an established church had been a substantial reality to

them, and their verdict thereupon was, that upon every ground of

justice, interest, and harmony no religious sect or society ought ever

to be favored or established by law in preference to others in these

United States.

The second clause of the First Amendment, that Congress shall make no

law prohibiting the free exercise of religion, is substantially

included in the other provisions cited at the opening of this paper,

and need not be here specifically considered. It is a _casus omissus_

provision which speaks for itself. The provision that “no religious

test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public

trust under the United States” opens, however, another field of

inquiry.

At the outbreak of the American Revolution the colonists were deeply

imbued with the intolerant spirit of their English ancestors as

respects Roman Catholics, infidels, and Jews, and naturally impressed

those feelings on their earlier governmental declarations and

institutions. As the struggle progressed this aversion wore away, and

on the final settlement of the present American system of polity we

find the fathers of the republic formally renouncing their original

prepossessions in favor of religious tests. So far as regards Jews and

infidels, the citations now to be given will need no special comment;

but as respects Roman Catholics, it is proper to premise that the

ancestral antipathy of the colonists to those of that faith had been

particularly sharpened by the old French war, closing by the peace of

1763.

In 1705 the following questions were propounded to the

Attorney-General Northey: “Whether the laws of England against Romish

priests are in force in the plantations, and whether her majesty may

not direct Jesuits or Romish priests to be turned out of Maryland?” In

reply he first takes up 27 Eliz., c. 2, making it high treason for any

British-born Romish priest to come into, be, or remain in any part of

the royal dominions, and says: “It is plain that law extended to all

the dominions the queen had when it was made; but some doubt hath been

made whether it extendeth to dominions acquired after, as the

plantations have been.” He next considers II William III., c. 4,

subjecting any popish bishop or priest who shall exercise any

ecclesiastical function in any part of the British dominions to

perpetual imprisonment, and says: “I am of opinion this law extends to

the plantations, they being dominions belonging to the realm of

England, and extends to all priests, foreigners as well as natives.”

Lastly, he says: “As to the question whether her majesty may not

direct Jesuits or Romish priests to be turned out of Maryland, I am of

opinion, if the Jesuits or priests be aliens, not made denizens or

naturalized, her majesty may, by law, compel them to depart Maryland;

if they be her majesty’s natural-born subjects, they cannot be

banished from her majesty’s dominions, but may be proceeded against on

the last before-mentioned law” (Chalm. _Colonial Op._, 42). And that

this was the accepted state of the crown law as late as May 29, 1775,

appears from an address of that date of the American Congress to the

inhabitants of Canada, wherein they are asked to make common cause

with the other colonies, and told: “The enjoyment of your very

religion on the present system depends on a legislature in which you

have no share and over which you have no control, and your priests are

exposed to expulsion, banishment, and ruin whenever their wealth and

possessions furnish sufficient temptation” (1 _Journ. Cong._, p. 75,

Way & Gideon ed., Washington, 1823). It was also the case that a

number of the royal charters under which the colonists had been

accustomed to live denied religious liberty to Roman Catholics. The

charter of New Hampshire provided “that liberty of conscience shall be

allowed to all Protestants” (Town of Pawlet _v._ Clark, 9 Cr. 292);

that of Massachusetts read: “For the greater ease and encouragement of

our living subjects, inhabiting our said province or territory of

Massachusetts Bay, and of such as shall come to inhabit there, we do,

by these presents, for us, our heirs and successors, grant, establish,

and ordain that for ever hereafter there shall be a liberty of

conscience allowed in the worship of God to all Christians (except

papists) inhabiting, or which shall inhabit or be resident within, our

said province or territory” (Chalm. _Col. Op._, 48). The charter of

Georgia, as of force up to 1752, ordains: “There shall be a liberty of

conscience allowed in the worship of God to all persons inhabiting, or

which shall inhabit or be resident within, our said province, and that

all such persons, except papists, shall have a free exercise of

religion” (White’s _Hist. Coll. Ga._, p. 9). The charter of Rhode

Island—which recites that it was granted the petitioners therefor

because “they have freely declared that it is much on their hearts (if

they be permitted) to hold forth a lively experiment that a most

flourishing civil state may stand and best be maintained, and that

among our English subjects, with a full liberty in religious

concernments”; and ordains “that all and every person and persons may,

from time to time, and at all times hereafter, freely and fully have

and enjoy his own and their judgments and consciences, in matters of

religious concernments, throughout the tract of land hereafter

mentioned, they behaving themselves peaceably and quietly, and not

using this liberty to licentiousness and profaneness, nor to the civil

injury or outward disturbance of others; any law, statute, or clause

therein contained, or to be contained, usage, or custom of this realm,

to the contrary hereof in any wise notwithstanding,” and which, to us,

seems to guarantee absolute freedom of conscience—was interpreted by

the colonial government as excepting Roman Catholics, Dr. Ramsay

saying: “Since the date of the charter the form of the government has

suffered very little alteration. An act was passed, in 1663, declaring

that all men of competent estates and good conduct, who professed

Christianity, with the exception of Roman Catholics, should be

admitted freemen” (1 _Hist. U. S._, p. 156).

With this much we come to the Continental Congress which met at

Philadelphia Sept. 5, 1774, to consider the relations of the colonies

to the parent state. It at once became apparent that one prime

grievance alleged against the crown was the act of Parliament (14 Geo.

III., c. 83), passed early in that year, respecting the boundaries and

government of the Province of Quebec, as Canada was called after its

cession to England by the peace of 1763, which extended the limits of

that province southward to the Ohio, westward to the Mississippi, and

northward to the boundary of the Hudson’s Bay Company; qualified Roman

Catholics to sit in the provincial council; applied the French laws,

dispensing with juries to civil cases, and the English practice to

criminal; and secured the Catholic clergy their estates and full

liberty in their religion. Massachusetts was particularly indignant at

this statute, and the Congress had scarcely organized before the

following resolution was presented with others from Suffolk County in

that State: “10. That the late act of Parliament for establishing the

Roman Catholic religion and the French laws in that extensive country

now called Quebec is dangerous in an extreme degree to the Protestant

religion and to the civil rights and liberties of all America; and

therefore, as men and Protestant Christians, we are indispensably

obliged to take all proper measures for our security” (1 _Journ.

Cong._, p. 11). On the 10th of October Congress, having considered

“the rights and grievances of these colonies,” “_Resolved_, N. C. D.,

That the following acts of Parliament are infringements and violations

of the rights of the colonists; and that the repeal of them is

essentially necessary in order to restore harmony between Great

Britain and the American colonies, viz., … the act for establishing

the Roman Catholic religion in the province of Quebec, abolishing the

equitable system of English laws, and erecting a tyranny there, to the

great danger (from so total a dissimilarity of religion, law, and

government) of the neighboring British colonies, by the assistance of

whose blood and treasure the said country was conquered from France.…

To these grievous acts and measures Americans cannot submit” (_id._

pp. 20-22).

The main work of the Congress of 1774 was the famous “Continental

Association,” which is, in brief, a solemn engagement on the part of

the colonies to break off commercial relations with Great Britain

until such time as divers obnoxious acts of Parliament were repealed.

It opens by arraigning the British ministry for adopting a system of

administration “evidently calculated for enslaving these colonies,”

and proceeds to specify among other instruments to this end “an act

for extending the province of Quebec, so as to border on the Western

frontiers of these colonies, establishing an arbitrary government

therein, and discouraging the settlement of British subjects in that

wide-extended country, thus, by the influence of civil principles and

ancient prejudices, to dispose the inhabitants to act with hostility

against the free Protestant colonies whenever a wicked ministry shall

choose to direct them” (_id._ p. 23). The Congress also resolved upon

addresses to the people of Great Britain, to the inhabitants of the

colonies represented in the Congress, to the king, and to the people

of Canada. That to the people of Great Britain says: “Know that we

think the legislature of Great Britain is not authorized by the

Constitution to establish a religion, fraught with sanguinary and

impious tenets, or to erect an arbitrary form of government in any

quarter of the globe” (_id._ p. 27). It then charges that at the close

of the French war a plan of enslaving the colonies was concerted

“under the auspices of a minister of principles, and of a family

unfriendly to the Protestant cause and inimical to liberty,” and says:

“Now mark the progression of the ministerial plan for enslaving us.…

By another act the Dominion of Canada is to be so extended, modelled,

and governed as that, by being disunited from us, detached from our

interest, by civil as well as religious prejudices, that by their

numbers daily swelling with Catholic emigrants from Europe, and by

their devotion to administration so friendly to their religion, they

might become formidable to us, and, on occasion, be fit instruments in

the hands of power to reduce the ancient, free, Protestant colonies to

the same state of slavery with themselves. This was evidently the

object of the act; and in this view, being extremely dangerous to our

liberty and quiet, we cannot forbear complaining of it as hostile to

British America.… Nor can we suppress our astonishment that a British

Parliament should ever consent to establish in that country a religion

that has deluged your island in blood, and dispersed impiety, bigotry,

persecution, and murder through every part of the world” (_id._ p.

30). The memorial to the colonists also refers to the Quebec act, “by

which act the Roman Catholic religion, instead of being tolerated, as

stipulated by the treaty of peace, is established,” and says: “The

authors of this arbitrary arrangement flatter themselves that the

inhabitants, deprived of liberty, and artfully provoked against those

of another religion, will be proper instruments for assisting in the

oppression of such as differ from them in modes of government and

faith” (_id._ p. 37). To reassure the colonists, it concludes: “The

people of England will soon have an opportunity of declaring their

sentiments concerning our cause. In their piety, generosity, and good

sense we repose high confidence, and cannot, upon a review of past

events, be persuaded that they, the defenders of true religion and the

asserters of the rights of mankind, will take part against their

affectionate Protestant brethren in the colonies, in favor of our open

and their own secret enemies, whose intrigues for several years past

have been wholly exercised in sapping the foundations of civil and

religious liberty” (_id._ p. 38). The petition to the king represents

as one of the obstacles to a restoration of harmony between the

colonists and the crown the act “for extending the limits of Quebec,

abolishing the English and restoring the French laws, whereby great

numbers of British Frenchmen [_sic_] are subjected to the latter, and

establishing an absolute government and the Roman Catholic religion

throughout those vast regions that border on the westerly and

northerly boundaries of the free Protestant English settlements”

(_id._ p. 47); reminds the monarch that “we were born the heirs of

freedom, and ever enjoyed our right under the auspices of your royal

ancestors, whose family was seated on the British throne to rescue and

secure a pious and gallant nation from the popery and despotism of a

superstitious and inexorable tyrant”; and adjures him “for the honor

of Almighty God, whose pure religion our enemies are undermining,” and

“as the loving father of your whole people, connected by the same

bonds of law, loyalty, faith, and blood,” to withstand the ministerial

plan (_id._ p. 49).

The terrific arraignment of the Roman Catholic religion made in these

various state papers will show to what an extent the colonists were

unfavorably disposed toward that faith at the inception of the

Revolutionary struggle. The fourth and last address, however, adopted

remains to be noticed, and in this appears the first indication of

that spirit of universal religious liberty and toleration which

afterwards became one of the main animating impulses of the American

system of government. The _Journal_, unfortunately, does not disclose

the name of the wise and just man who drew up this document, but the

internal evidence points to John Dickinson of Pennsylvania, who

afterwards prepared the Articles of Confederation (1 _Secret Journ._,

p. 290). Oct. 21, Thomas Cushing of Massachusetts, Richard Henry Lee

of Virginia, and Mr. Dickinson were appointed a committee to prepare

an address to the inhabitants of Quebec, and, as adopted, this urges

the Canadians to make common cause with the other colonists, setting

before them their rights as British subjects, and saying: “What is

offered to you by the late act of Parliament in their place? Liberty

of conscience in your religion? No. God gave it to you; and the

temporal powers with which you have been and are connected firmly

stipulated for your enjoyment of it. If laws, divine and human, could

secure it against the despotic caprices of wicked men, it was secured

before” (1 _Journ._, p. 42). The address then imagines the president,

Montesquieu, urging his countrymen to unite with the English

colonists, and concludes: “We are too well acquainted with the

liberality of sentiment distinguishing your nation to imagine that

difference of religion will prejudice you against a hearty amity with

us. You know that the transcendent nature of freedom elevates those

who unite in her cause above all such low-minded infirmities. The

Swiss cantons furnish a memorable proof of this truth. Their union is

composed of Roman Catholic and Protestant states, living in the utmost

concord and peace with one another, and thereby enabled, ever since

they bravely vindicated their freedom, to defy and defeat every tyrant

that has invaded them” (_id._ p. 44).

May 10, 1775, another Congress met. Blood had been shed; it was seen

the sword must decide the event; and from this time the American

Congress may be said to have remained in permanent session until the

government under the Constitution was inaugurated. May 26, 1775, John

Jay, Samuel Adams, and Silas Deane were appointed a committee to

draught a letter to the people of Canada, which, as adopted, urged

them to unite with the other colonists, declaring “the fate of the

Protestant and Catholic colonies to be strongly linked together”; and

adding: “The enjoyment of your very religion, on the present system,

depends on a legislature in which you have no share and over which you

have no control; and your priests are exposed to expulsion,

banishment, and ruin whenever their wealth and possessions furnish

sufficient temptation” (_id._ p. 75). This failing, Congress came

closer by directing Robert Livingston, Robert Treat Paine, and J.

Langdon, Nov. 8, 1775, to proceed to Canada, and there use their

utmost efforts to procure the assistance of the Canadians in Gen.

Schuyler’s operations, and to induce them to enter into a union with

the other colonies, the instructions mentioning as one inducement to

be held out: “And you may and are hereby empowered farther to declare

that we hold sacred the rights of conscience, and shall never molest

them in the free enjoyment of their religion” (_id._ p. 170). This

also failing, a third effort was made to the same end by appointing

Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase, and Charles Carroll of Carrollton—the

latter not a member of Congress at the time, but selected as a Roman

Catholic (2 Ramsay _Hist. U. S._, p. 65)—commissioners to Canada, May

20, 1776, instructing them: “You are farther to declare that we hold

sacred the rights of conscience, and may promise to the whole people,

solemnly in our name, the free and undisturbed exercise of their

religion; and, to the clergy, the full, perfect, and peaceable

possession and enjoyment of all their estates; that the government of

everything relating to their religion and clergy shall be left

entirely in the hands of the good people of that province and such

legislature as they shall constitute; provided, however, that all

other denominations of Christians be equally entitled to hold offices,

and enjoy civil privileges and the free exercise of their religion,

and be totally exempt from the payment of any tithes or taxes for the

support of any religion” (1 _Journ._, p. 290). This failed in turn,

but the fathers were long loath to relinquish their hopes of the

accession of Canada. The Articles of Confederation provided that

“Canada, acceding to this confederation, and joining in the measures

of the United States, shall be admitted into and entitled to all the

advantages of this Union; but no other colony shall be admitted into

the same, unless such admission be agreed to by nine States” (art.

11); and guaranteed that each State should be protected in its

religion by the common strength of all (art. 3). It is further

memorable that the King of France co-operated with the Americans in

the attempt to secure the accession of Canada to the Union, and that

in accordance with the royal instructions the Count d’Estaing

published an address on the 28th of October, 1778, in his majesty’s

name, to the Canadian French, adjuring them by every tie of lineage

and religion to make common cause with the United States. The priests,

in particular, were besought to use their influence to this end, and

reminded that they might become a power in a new government, and not

be dependent on “sovereigns whom force has imposed on them, and whose

political indulgence will be lessened proportionally as those

sovereigns shall have less to fear” (2 Pitk. _U. S._, p. 68). This,

however, like all the invitations of the American Congress, was in

vain. The contemporary fact was—and no doubt the British crown

officers took care to have it well known throughout Canada—that while

England was enacting laws to exempt the Canadians from her

anti-Catholic statutes, and to indulge them with full liberty of

conscience in their ancestral Catholic faith, the American Congress

was solemnly resolving and declaring “that we think the legislature of

Great Britain is not authorized by the constitution to establish a

religion fraught with sanguinary and impious tenets in any quarter of

the globe.” “Nor can we suppress our astonishment that a British

Parliament should ever consent to establish in that country a religion

that has deluged England in blood, and dispersed impiety, bigotry,

persecution, murder, and rebellion throughout every part of the

world.” So sharp a contrast had a powerful effect on the sixty-five

thousand Roman Catholics who then inhabited Canada, according to

Stokes (_View_, p. 30), and is, in all human probability, the reason

why that extensive country is not a part of the United States to-day.

That invaluable contemporary authority, Dr. Ramsay, assures us that

the predilections of the Canadian masses were in favor of a union with

the other colonies, but “the legal privileges which the Roman Catholic

clergy enjoyed made them averse to a change, lest they should be

endangered by a more intimate connection with their Protestant

neighbors.”

The founders of the republic seem early to have perceived the mistake

of yielding to what they termed in their first overture to Canada “the

low-minded infirmity” of religious prejudice, and the severe recoil of

that error in this case had much to do with their subsequent

prohibition of religious tests.

Recurring now to the States, we find a religious test prescribed as a

qualification to office in a number of the early constitutions. The

New Jersey constitution of July 2, 1776, provides “that no Protestant

inhabitant of this colony shall be denied the enjoyment of any civil

right merely on account of his religious principles; but that all

persons professing a belief in the faith of any Protestant sect, who

shall demean themselves peaceably under the government as hereby

established, shall be capable of being elected into any office of

profit, or trust, or being a member of either branch of the

legislature, and shall fully and freely enjoy every privilege and

immunity enjoyed by others their fellow-subjects” (art. 19). The North

Carolina constitution of December 18, 1776, says “that no person who

shall deny the being of God, or the truth of the Protestant religion,

or the divine authority of either the Old or New Testaments, or who

shall hold religious principles incompatible with the freedom and

safety of the State, shall be capable of holding any office or place

of trust or profit in the civil department within this State” (art.

32). The Georgia constitution of February 5, 1777, says that the

members of the legislature “shall be of the Protestant religion” (art.

6). The South Carolina constitution of March 19, 1778, provides for “a

governor and commander-in-chief, a lieutenant-governor, both to

continue two years, and a privy council—all of the Protestant

religion” (art. 3); that “no person shall be eligible to sit in the

House of Representatives unless he be of the Protestant religion”

(art. 13); and “that all denominations of Christian Protestants in

this State demeaning themselves peaceably and faithfully shall enjoy

equal religious and civil privileges” (art. 38). In this State the

governor was sworn “to the utmost of his power to maintain and defend

the laws of God, the Protestant religion, and the liberties of

America” (Grimke’s _Laws So. Ca._, 297). The Delaware constitution of

September 11, 1776, provided the following oath to be taken by all

members of the legislature: “I, A. B., do profess faith in God the

Father, and in Jesus Christ his only Son, and in the Holy Ghost; and I

do acknowledge the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be

given by divine inspiration” (art. 22). The Maryland constitution of

August 14, 1776, provided that “a declaration of a belief in the

Christian religion” (Bill of Rights, art. 35) should be a

qualification to office; and “that every person, appointed to any

office of profit or trust shall, before he enters on the execution

thereof, … subscribe a declaration of his belief in the Christian

religion” (Const., art. 55). The New Hampshire constitution of January

5, 1776, while not expressly prescribing a religious test, is

understood by the provision continuing the body of the colonial law in

force to have required all members of the legislature to be of the

Protestant religion. The spirit occasioning the above tests was

remarkably manifested in the convention framing the New York

constitution of April 20, 1777. An article granting “to all mankind

the free exercise of religious profession and worship” being under

consideration, John Jay, afterwards the first Chief-Justice of the

Supreme Court of the United States, moved to add the following:

“Except the professors of the religion of the Church of Rome, who

ought not to hold lands in, or be admitted to a participation of the

civil rights enjoyed by the members of, this State until such time as

the said professors shall appear in the Supreme Court of the State,

and there most solemnly swear that they verily believe in their

consciences that no pope, priest, or foreign authority on earth has

power to absolve the subjects of this State from their allegiance to

the same; and, farther, that they renounce and believe to be false and

wicked the dangerous and damnable doctrine that the pope, or any other

earthly authority, has power to absolve men from sins described in and

prohibited by the holy Gospel of Jesus Christ, and particularly that

no pope, priest, or foreign authority on earth has power to absolve

them from the obligation of this oath,” which was lost—yeas, 10; nays,

19; one county divided (Sparks’ _Life of Gouverneur Morris_, vol. i.,

p. 124). The Pennsylvania constitution of September 28, 1776, required

members of the General Assembly and civil officers to sign “a

declaration of belief in one God, the creator and governor of the

world, the rewarder of the good and the punisher of the wicked,” and

also to make “an acknowledgment that the Scriptures of the Old and New

Testament are given by divine inspiration” (Stokes’ _View_, p. 81).

It will thus appear that the early constitutions of New Jersey, North

Carolina, Georgia, South Carolina, and New Hampshire made a profession

of Protestantism, and those of Maryland, Delaware, and Pennsylvania

made a belief in Christianity, a qualification for office; and so the

fundamental law of those States remained until after the ratification

of the Constitution of the United States.

In 1787 the Federal Convention met, and, as has already been stated,

while declining to make it a part of the Constitution that “the

legislature of the United States shall pass no law on the subject of

religion,” did insert in that instrument the provision that “no

religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office

or public trust under the United States.” Or, in other words, the

Federal Constitution did not inhibit Congress from creating a

religious establishment, but did forbid it to prescribe a religious

test as a qualification to office; while, _per contra_, the State

constitutions, while prohibiting such an establishment, admitted such

tests. We have seen how the States conformed the Federal Constitution

to their own in the article of the inhibition of an established

church, and are now to inquire how the State constitutions modelled

themselves upon the Constitution of the United States so far as

respects the prohibition of religious qualifications for office.

When the Federal Constitution was proposed for ratification to the

State conventions, considerable opposition was manifested in some of

those bodies to this prohibition. It was alleged that, as the

Constitution stood, the Pope of Rome might become President of the

United States, and there was even a pamphlet published to sustain that

objection (4 Elliot Deb., p. 195). In the North Carolina Convention,

in particular, a hot debate occurred. Mr. Abbott said: “The exclusion

of religious tests is by many thought dangerous and impolitic. They

suppose that if there be no religious test required, pagans, deists,

and Mahometans might obtain offices among us, and that the senators

and representatives might all be pagans” (_id._ p. 192). Mr. Iredell

referred to the deplorable results of religious tests in all ages, and

said: “America has set an example to mankind to think more modestly

and reasonably—that a man may be of different religious sentiments

from our own without being a bad member of society.… But it is

objected that the people of America may, perhaps, choose

representatives who have no religion at all, and that pagans and

Mahometans may be admitted into offices. But how is it possible to

exclude any set of men without taking away that principle of religious

freedom which we ourselves so warmly contend for?… I met, by accident,

with a pamphlet this morning in which the author states as a very

serious danger that the Pope of Rome might be elected President. I

confess this never struck me before; and if the author had read all

the qualifications of a President, perhaps his fears might have been

quieted. No man but a native or who has resided fourteen years in

America can be chosen President. I know not all the qualifications for

pope, but I believe he must be taken from the college of cardinals;

and probably there are many previous steps necessary before he arrives

at this dignity. A native of America must have very singular good

fortune who, after residing fourteen years in his own country, should

go to Europe, enter into Romish orders, obtain the promotion of

cardinal, afterwards that of pope, and at length be so much in the

confidence of his own country as to be elected President. It would be

still more extraordinary if he should give up his popedom for our

presidency. Sir, it is impossible to treat such idle fears with any

degree of gravity.… This country has already had the honor of setting

an example of civil freedom, and I trust it will likewise have the

honor of teaching the rest of the world the way to religious freedom

also. God grant both may be perpetuated to the end of time!” (_id._ p.

193 _et seq._) Gov. Johnston said: “When I heard there were

apprehensions that the Pope of Rome could be the President of the

United States, I was greatly astonished. It might as well be said that

the King of England or France or the Grand Turk could be chosen to

that office. It would have been as good an argument.… It is

apprehended that Jews, Mahometans, pagans, etc., may be elected to

high offices under the government of the United States. Those who are

Mahometans, or any others who are not professors of the Christian

religion, can never be elected to the office of President or other

high office but in one of two cases: First, if the people of America

lay aside the Christian religion altogether, it may happen. Should

this unfortunately take place, the people will choose such men as

think as they do themselves. Another case is, if any persons of such

descriptions should, notwithstanding their religion, acquire the

confidence and esteem of the people of America by their good conduct

and practice of virtue, they may be chosen” (_id._ p. 198). Mr.

Caldwell said: “There was an invitation for Jews and pagans of every

kind to come among us. At some future period this might endanger the

character of the United States.… I think that in a political view

those gentlemen who formed this Constitution should not have given

this invitation to Jews and heathens” (_id._ p. 199). Mr. Spencer

said: “Religious tests have been the foundation of persecutions in all

countries. Persons who are conscientious will not take the oath

required by religious tests, and will therefore be excluded from

offices, though equally capable of discharging them as any member of

society” (_id._ p. 200). Mr. Spaight, who had been in the Federal

Convention, said: “No test is required. All men of equal capacity and

integrity are equally eligible to offices. Temporal violence may make

mankind wicked, but never religious. A test would enable the

prevailing sect to persecute the rest” (_id._ p. 208). Mr. Wilson

“wished that the Constitution had excluded popish priests from office”

(_id._ p. 212). Mr. Lancaster said: “As to a religious test, had the

article which excludes it provided none but what had been in the

States heretofore, I would not have objected to it.… For my part, in

reviewing the qualifications necessary for a President, I did not

suppose that the pope could occupy the President’s chair. But let us

remember that we form a government for millions not yet in existence.

I have not the art of divination. In the course of four or five

hundred years I do not know how it will work. This is most certain:

that papists may occupy that chair, and Mahometans may take it. I see

nothing against it. There is a disqualification, I believe, in every

State in the Union; it ought to be so in this system” (_id._ p. 215).

In the Massachusetts Convention there was considerable debate on the

same clause. Mr. Singletary “thought we were giving up all our

privileges, as there was no provision that men in power should have

any religion; and though he hoped to see Christians, yet, by the

Constitution, a papist or an infidel was as eligible as they” (2

Elliot Deb., p. 44). Several members of the convention urging that the

provision “was a departure from the principles of our forefathers, who

came here for the preservation of their religion; and that it would

admit deists, atheists, etc., into the general government,” Rev. Mr.

Shute said: “To establish a religious test as a qualification for

offices in the proposed Federal Constitution, it appears to me, sir,

would be attended with injurious consequences to some individuals, and

with no advantage to the whole.… In this great and extensive empire

there is and will be a great variety of sentiments in religion among

its inhabitants. Upon the plan of a religious test the question, I

think, must be, Who shall be excluded from national trusts? Whatever

answer bigotry may suggest, the dictates of candor and equity, I

conceive, will be, _None_. Far from limiting my charity and confidence

to men of my own denomination in religion, I suppose and I believe,

sir, that there are worthy characters among men of every

denomination—among the Quakers, the Baptists, the Church of England,

the papists, and even among those who have no other guide in the way

to virtue and heaven than the dictates of natural religion. I must

therefore think, sir, that the proposed plan of government in this

particular is wisely constructed; that as all have an equal claim to

the blessings of the government under which they live and which they

support, so none should be excluded from them for being of any

particular denomination in religion. The presumption is that the eyes

of the people will be upon the faithful in the land; and, from a

regard of their own safety, they will choose for their rulers men of

known abilities, of known probity, of good moral characters. The

Apostle Peter tells us that God is no respecter of persons, but in

every nation he that feareth him and worketh righteousness is

acceptable to him. And I know of no reason why men of such a

character, in a community of whatever denomination in religion,

_cœteris paribus_, with other suitable qualifications, should not be

acceptable to the people, and why they may not be employed by them

with safety and advantage in the important offices of government. The

exclusion of a religious test in the proposed Constitution, therefore,

clearly appears to me, sir, to be in favor of its adoption” (_id._ p.

118).

These utterances form so excellent a commentary on the last clause of

the sixth article of the Constitution of the United States that it is

to be regretted that we know no more of their admirable and sagacious

author than that he was the Rev. Daniel Shute, of Hingham, in Suffolk

County, and voted on what the original journal calls “the decision of

the grand question” in favor of ratifying the Constitution; as did

also his colleague, Major-General Benjamin Lincoln.

Recurring to the debate, Col. Jones “thought that the rulers ought to

believe in God or Christ, and that, however a test may be prostituted

in England, yet he thought, if our public men were to be of those who

had a good standing in the church, it would be happy for the United

States” (_id._ p. 119). Major Lusk “passed to the article dispensing

with the qualification of a religious test, and concluded by saying

that he shuddered at the idea that Roman Catholics, papists, and

pagans might be introduced into office, and that popery and the

Inquisition may be established in America” (_id._ p. 148). Rev. Mr.

Backus said: “I now beg leave to offer a few thoughts upon some points

in the Constitution proposed to us, and I shall begin with the

exclusion of any religious test. Many appear to be much concerned

about it; but nothing is more evident, both in reason and the Holy

Scriptures, than that religion is ever a matter between God and

individuals; and therefore no man or men can impose any religious test

without invading the essential prerogatives of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Ministers first assumed this power under the Christian name, and then

Constantine approved of the practice when he adopted the profession of

Christianity as an engine of state policy. And let the history of all

nations be searched from that day to this, and it will appear that the

imposing of religious tests hath been the greatest engine of tyranny

in the world. And I rejoice to see so many gentlemen who are now

giving in their rights of conscience in this great and important

matter. Some serious minds discover a concern lest, if all religious

tests should be excluded, the Congress would hereafter establish

popery or some other tyrannical way of worship; but it is most certain

that no such way of worship can be established without any religious

test” (_id._ p. 149).

In the Conventions of Virginia (3 Elliot Deb., p. 204), and

Connecticut (2 _ib._ p. 202), and in the South Carolina Legislature (1

_id._ p. 312), the same clause was discussed, but more briefly, and

after the final ratification of the Constitution the principle of the

provision seems to have been universally conceded as correct. The

Georgia constitution of May 6, 1789, the first new State constitution

adopted after the inauguration of the government under the

Constitution of the United States, omitted the qualification that

members of the General Assembly should be of the Protestant religion;

the South Carolina constitution of June 3, 1790, the next adopted,

omitted the same test, as also all the former provisions making the

Protestant religion the State faith, and provided that “the free

exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without

discrimination or preference, shall for ever, hereafter, be allowed

within this State to all mankind” (art. 8, sec. 1), and from this time

forward it may be taken as the case that as fast as the States

remodelled their constitutions of the Revolutionary era the

religious-test provisions were formally omitted, and in the interim

passed _sub silentio_.

The immediate cause of this universal abrogation of religious

qualifications for office was, as we have seen, the sixth article of

the Constitution of the United States, but beyond this were some

potent operative causes. The loss of Canada was one. Dr. Ramsay, who

tells us that he had access to all the official papers of the United

States up to 1786, when he ceased to be a member of the Congress under

the Confederation (pref. 2 _Hist. U. S._), says: “The province was

evacuated with great reluctance. The Americans were not only mortified

at the disappointment of their favorite scheme of annexing it as a

fourteenth link in the chain of their Confederacy, but apprehended the

most serious consequences from the ascendency of the British power in

that quarter” (_id._ p. 71). It was felt too late that the indiscreet

utterances of the Congress of 1774 respecting the Roman Catholic

religion had led to this loss.

Another operative cause was the yearning desire of the early statesmen

of the United States to invite and secure foreign immigration. As

early as the address of Congress of Oct. 21, 1774, it was noticed that

the population of Canada was “daily swelling with Catholic emigrants

from Europe”; and after the peace of 1783 showed that Canada was to

remain a British possession, it was seen that to impress an

anti-Catholic character on the government of the United States would

tend to build up that province at the expense of the United States,

and that only by proffering religious as well as civil liberty could

this country hope to divert that emigration to its own shores. Some of

the States had already suffered, when colonies, from legalizing

inequalities in religion, and that, too, had no doubt its weight;

Ramsay telling us that the legal pre-eminence of the Episcopal Church,

and its maintenance at the expense not only of its own members but of

all other denominations in Virginia and Maryland, “deterred great

numbers, especially of the Presbyterian denomination, who had

emigrated from Ireland, from settling within the limits of these

governments” (1 _Hist. U. S._, p. 220).

Another cause operating in favor of a removal of religious tests to

office was the eminent services rendered the States in the

establishment of their independence by two Catholic powers, France and

Spain. It is currently supposed that it was not until after the

Americans, by their capture of Burgoyne at Saratoga in 1777, had

demonstrated their power that they received efficient assistance from

those nations; but the contrary is the case. Before the Declaration of

Independence Silas Deane was sent to France for assistance, and

contemporaneous with the Declaration large supplies of money and arms

were furnished by that power. Arms, clothing, and ammunition for

25,000 men and 100 field-pieces were asked by Congress, and the

response of his Christian majesty was 2,000,000 livres in money and

small arms, 200 field-pieces, the best in the royal arsenals, a credit

for 1,000,000 livres with the clothier-general of the French forces,

and the services of Monsieur Coudray, the best military engineer in

the royal army, and as many of his officers as were needed (1 Pitk.

_Hist. U. S._, pp. 387, 500). Spain also assisted the Americans with

1,000,000 livres as early as May, 1776 (_id._ p. 411). Still another

1,000,000 livres were added by France before the treaty of 1778; and

to appreciate fully the various pecuniary aids given by this power to

the United States during the struggle, the reader may well consult the

treaties with that power of 1782 and 1783 (_Rev. Stats._, “Treaties,”

pp. 214-9). Prior to 1778 some 3,000,000 livres were advanced, and

from that time to 1782 some 18,000,000 more were granted and an

endorsement given to Holland for 10,000,000 in addition. In 1783 a

further grant of 6,000,000 livres was made, making 37,000,000 in all.

All expenses of commissions, negotiations, etc., were borne by France

and made a present to the United States, as also all the interest

accrued during the entire war on the debt, and the total principal of

the sums forwarded in 1776, for all of which benefactions the most

lively acknowledgments were made by the United States in the treaties

referred to above. Nor were French fleets and armies wanting. In July,

1778, a French squadron of twelve line-of-battle ships and four

frigates reached the United States under Count d’Estaing (2 Ramsay

_Hist. U. S._, p. 258). In 1779 the same commander appeared off the

Georgia coast with 20 ships of the line and 11 frigates, and some

3,500 French troops, infantry and artillery; and at this time occurred

the bloody assault on the British entrenchments at Savannah, where

Gen. Lincoln, at the head of 600 Continentals, and d’Estaing at the

head of the French infantry, charged side by side, 200 of the

Americans and 637 of the French being left on the field. In July,

1780, still another French fleet arrived at Rhode Island with 6,000

troops (2 Pitk. 117). In 1781 Count de Grasse arrived with 28 ships of

the line and 3,200 French troops under the Marquis de St. Simon (2

Ramsay, p. 427). In 1782 a French fleet of 34 ships of the line,

having on board 5,500, rendezvoused in the West Indies to draw off the

British by an attack on Jamaica, and here sustained an appalling

defeat at the hands of Admiral Rodney. The French troops were so

crowded on the vessels that in one ship alone 400 men were killed, and

the total slaughter amounted to thousands (_id._ p. 5). In the same

year we find 7,000 French regulars at Yorktown; and from the

contemporary accounts the French engineers and artillery were

eminently instrumental in forcing the surrender of Cornwallis,

particularly Major-General du Portail, Brigadier-General Launcy, Col.

Gouvion, and Capt. Rochefontaine, who were thanked and promoted by

Congress and warmly commended to their sovereign (_id._ p. 438; 4

_Journ._ 290).

Nor was Spain backward in her efforts. Before the Declaration of

Independence she sent the Americans 1,000,000 livres (1 Pitk. 411). In

1777 she forwarded several cargoes of naval stores, cordage,

sail-cloth, anchors, etc., from Bilboa (_id._ p. 528). In 1779 she

declared war against Great Britain, and carried on a campaign in

Florida with such vigor as to drive out the British from that

province. In 1780 an immense Spanish armament appeared in the West

Indies to co-operate with the French in creating a diversion in that

quarter, the combined fleet numbering thirty-six ships of the line,

crowded with troops (2 Ramsay, 374). In 1782 a grander attempt was

made in the same field, the combined French and Spanish navies

numbering sixty ships of the line, with an immense number of frigates

and smaller armed vessels, and conveying thousands of land forces. The

first attempt failed by the appearance of a mortal disease which

decimated the Spanish troops, and the latter by the bloody defeat of

the French by Admiral Rodney. In the course of the war the Spanish

navy received a terrible blow at Cape St. Vincent, though the Spanish

admiral, Don Juan de Langara, fought till his flag-ship was a mere

wreck and his fleet was sunk or taken. One vessel in particular, the

_San Domingo_, of 70 guns and carrying 600 men, blew up, and all on

board perished (_id._ p. 372).

To sustain American independence, in short, French and Spanish blood

was poured out like water. The arms, the gold, the ships, the armies

of the two great Catholic powers were given in unstinted measure to

the United States, and on the establishment of the present polity of

the republic it would have been disgraceful beyond measure to have

fixed therein a stigma on the faith of those friends in time of need.

In answering the congratulations of the Catholic clergy and laity on

his first accession to the presidency, Gen. Washington said: “I

presume that your fellow-citizens will not forget the patriotic part

which you took in the accomplishment of their Revolution and the

establishment of their government, or the important assistance which

they received from a nation in which the Roman Catholic faith is

professed” (_Cath. Al._, 1876, p. 63). Possibly, also, the demeanor of

the French troops may have removed many misapprehensions and

prejudices against their religion. Madison, who was an eye-witness of

their march through Philadelphia, where Congress was then in session,

in 1782, _en route_ to Yorktown, highly applauds their regularity and

decency of conduct in his letters of that date (Mad. Papers); and

speaking on the same subject Dr. Ramsay, also then in Congress, says:

“The French troops marched at the same time and for the same place. In

the course of this summer they passed through all the extensive

settlements which lie between Newport and Yorktown. It seldom, if

ever, happened before that an army led through a foreign country, at

so great a distance from their own, among a people of different

principles, customs, language, and religion, behaved with so much

regularity. In their march to Yorktown they had to pass through 500

miles of a country abounding in fruit, and at a time when the most

delicious productions of nature growing on and near the public

highways presented both opportunity and temptation to gratify their

appetites. Yet so complete was their discipline that in this long

march scarce an instance could be produced of a peach or an apple

being taken without the consent of the inhabitants” (2 _Hist. U. S._,

p. 434). Allies of this character were in high favor with the American

people, and most gratefully remembered at the time of the final

settlement of civil government in the United States, not to speak of

the influence of the Continental soldiery, who, no doubt, bore in mind

their brethren in arms at Savannah and Yorktown, and recalled

Washington’s general order whereby the black cockade of the American

army was mounted with a white relief in honor of Catholic France (2

Ramsay, p. 358).

To conclude, then, the provisions of the Constitution of the United

States bearing on religion are not mere ill-considered generalities,

but positive convictions based upon long and sore experience. The

prohibition of a national religion or of any governmental interference

with spiritual persuasions owes its origin to the actual existence in

former days of church establishments, the hierophants wherein were

appointees of the political power, and the expenses whereof were

compulsorily borne by those of other creeds. And the inhibition of

religious tests for office arises out of the fact that the history of

this country demonstrates it equally impolitic, ungrateful, and

dishonest to require such qualifications in these United States.

ASSISI.

“St. Francis be my speed!”

Think of being taken into Umbria, preternatural Umbria, where every

olive-sandalled mountain is full of mysterious influences, and every

leaf and flower of the smiling valleys seem to breathe out some sweet

old Franciscan legend, by a steam-engine bearing the name of Fulton!

It was hard. Not but we have the highest respect for—nay, a certain

pride in—that great inventor; still it seemed a positive grievance to

find anything modern in what was to us a world of poetry and mediæval

tradition. We wished, if not to gird ourselves humbly with the cord

like Dante, at least to put ourselves in harmony with one of the most

delicious regions in the world, where at every step the lover of the

classic, of art, or of the higher mystic lore finds so much to suit

his turn. The name of Fulton sounds well along the Hudson, but to hear

the shriek of an engine awaken the echoes of the Apennines, and see it

go plunging insensibly through the very heart of poetical Umbria,

along the shores of “reedy Thrasimene,” through “the defiles fatal to

Roman rashness,” was a blow difficult to recover from. It required the

overpowering influences of this enchanting region, as every one will

believe, to restore our equanimity.

Umbria is a mountainous region of the Ecclesiastical States that

gradually ascends from the Tiber toward the Apennines, now called the

Duchy of Spoleto. It is full of sweet, sunny valleys enclosed among

majestic mountains, with a range of temperature that produces great

variety of vegetation, from the pine and the oak to the orange and

aloe, the olive and the vine. Its cliffs are crowned with sanctuaries

which are resonant night and day with prayer and psalmody, or old

towns, each with the remembrance of some saint whose shrine it guards

with jealous care, or some artist or poet whose works have made it

renowned, or some venerable classical recollection that clings to it

like the vine which gives so much grace and freshness to the

landscape. There is Spoleto, whose gates closed against Hannibal;

Arezzo, where Petrarch was born; Cortona, with its “diadem of towers”

and its legend of St. Margaret; _Perugia dolente_, which Totila only

took after a seven years’ siege, and which Charlemagne placed under

the sweet yoke of the Papacy; Montefalco, like a falcon’s nest on the

crest of the mountain, famous for its virgin saint and its frescos of

Benozzo Gozzoli; and picturesque Marni, where the Blessed Lucy when a

child played with the Christorello. We pass Orvieto, with its

wonderful proofs of past cultivation; the lake of Bolsena, with its

isle where a queen died of hunger, and its shores verdant with the

glorious pines sung by Virgil, at the foot of which Leo X., when a

guest at the Farnese villa, used to gather around him the artists and

poets of the day, to indulge in intellectual converse till “the azure

gloom of an Italian night” gathered around them with hues that spoke

of heaven.

But over all hovers especially the grand memory of St. Francis, with

which the whole of this beautiful region is embalmed. Along its

valleys and mountain paths he used to go with Fra Pacifico, the poet

laureate of Frederick II., singing their hymns of praise, calling

themselves God’s minstrels, who desired no other reward from those who

gathered around them but the sincere repentance of their sins. There

is the lake of Perugia, where he spent forty days alone on an island

among the sad olives, fasting in imitation of our Saviour, in

continual communion with God and the angels—a spot now marked by a

convent whose foundations are washed by the waters of the lake. There

is the blue lake of Rieti, to which, in his compassion for God’s

creatures, he restored the fish alive, with the four Franciscan

convents on the hills that enclose it. There is Gubbio, with the

legend of the fierce wolf he tamed, to which the people erected a

statue—an unquestionable proof of its truth. There is the

“Hard Rock

‘Twixt Arno and the Tiber,”

where

“He from Christ

Took the last signet which his limbs two years

Did carry.”

Above all, there is Assisi with his tomb, one of the most glorious in

the world after that of Christ, around which centred all the poetry

and art of the thirteenth century. We caught our first glimpse of it

at Spello—Spello on its spur of red limestone—where we were shown the

house of Propertius, “the poet of delicate pleasures,” in full sight

of Assisi, where was born one who sang of a higher love. Assisi stands

on an eminence overlooking the whole country around, and we could not

take our eyes off it all the way from Spello, till, glancing towards

the valley below, we saw the towers and dome of _Santa Maria degli

Angeli_, which encloses the sacred Porziuncula. We were now in the

very “land of wonder, of miracle, and mysterious influences,” the

first glimpse of which one can never forget. Think of a railway

station close by the Porziuncula! We went directly there on descending

from the cars.

St. Mary of the Angels is a vast church that stands almost solitary in

the plain. It is modern also, and out of keeping with the venerable

traditions of the place, which was a disappointment. The old church

was nearly destroyed by an earthquake in 1854. The present one is of

noble proportions, however, and has been compared to the garments of a

queen that now clothe the humble sanctuary of the Porziuncula which

stands beneath the dome, the first thing to strike the eye on entering

the church. We hastened towards it at once, to pray where St. Francis

so often wept and prayed, and where so many generations since have

wept, and prayed, and found grace before God. It was here Picca, his

mother, often came to pray before he was born, and where his birth was

announced by mysterious songs attributed to the angels. St. Francis

loved this spot above all places in the world; for it was here he was

called to embrace the sublime folly of the cross, and where he laid

the foundations of the seraphic order. It was here, in the year 1222,

he beheld Christ and his holy Mother surrounded by a multitude of

angels, and prayed that all who should henceforth visit this chapel

with hearts purified by contrition and confession might obtain full

pardon and indulgence for all their sins. This was the origin of the

celebrated indulgence of the Porziuncula, which the grave Bourdaloue

regarded as one of the most authentic in the church, because granted

directly by Christ himself. The treasures of the church were not dealt

out so generously in those days as now, and thousands came hither from

all parts of Christendom, in the middle ages, to gain this wonderful

indulgence. When St. Bernardine of Siena came in the fourteenth

century, he found two hundred thousand pilgrims encamped in the valley

around. St. Bridget spent the whole night of one 1st of August praying

in the Porziuncula; and still, when the great day of the _Perdono_

comes (it lasts from the Vespers of the 1st of August till the Vespers

of the following day), thousands flock down from the mountains and

come up from the extremity of southern Italy. The highway is lined

with booths where eatables and religious objects are sold. Processions

come with chants and prayer. The great bell of _Predicazione_,

originally cast for Fra Elias, is heard all over the valley from the

_Sagro Convento_, announcing the indulgence. When the church doors

open, an overwhelming crowd pours in with cries, and invocations, and

_vivas_ for the Madonna and St. Francis with true Italian exuberance

of devotion.

The Porziuncula has wisely been left in its primitive simplicity, with

the exception of the front, on which Overbeck, in 1830, painted the

above-mentioned vision to St. Francis with true pre-Raphaelite

simplicity. The remainder is just as it was in the time of the saint;

only its rough walls have been polished by the kisses of pilgrims, and

hung with pious offerings. Lamps burn continually therein as if it

were a shrine.

Back of the Porziuncula is the low, dark cell St. Francis inhabited,

and where he ended his days. It was here, while he was dying, two of

the friars sang his Hymn of the Sun, which breathes so fully his love

for everything created. And when they ceased, he himself took up the

strain, to sing the sweetness of death, which he called his “sister,

terrible and beautiful,” in the spirit of Job, who said to corruption:

Thou art my father; to the worm: Thou art my mother and my sister.

Then we were taken into the recess where St. Francis so often

chastised his body, which he regarded as his beast of burden that it

behoved him to beat daily and to lead around with a halter. When

dying, he is said to have begged pardon of this old companion of the

way for inflicting so many stripes on it for the good of his soul.

There is also the _Cappella delle Rose_ with the _Spineto_—a little

court once filled with coarse brambles, but now aflush with roses.

Here St. Francis, being tempted to renounce a life in which he was

consumed with watchings and prayers, for his only reply threw himself

among the thorns, which, tinged with his blood, were immediately

changed into roses. They bloom here still, but without thorns, and

their petals are stained as with blood. If transplanted elsewhere, the

stains are said to fade away and the thorns to come forth again. It

was twelve of these roses, six red and six white, the saint bore with

him into the Porziuncula when the great _Perdono_ of the 2d of August

was granted—roses that for ever will embalm the church, and that have

been immortalized by artists all over Italy and Spain.

The immense convent of Observantine friars adjoining is now solitary

and desolate. The Italian government has turned the inmates out of

this cradle of their order, with the exception of two or three, who

are left as guardians of the church. The hundreds of poor, once fed at

their gates in time of need, now take revenge on the passing

traveller, and fasten themselves on him with pertinacious grasp. But

who can refuse a dole where St. Francis has made Poverty for ever

glorious?

From St. Mary of the Angels we went winding up the hill to Assisi. Its

base is clothed with the olive, the vine, and the fig, but its sides

are as nude and destitute as the Bride of St. Francis. Above, on the

right, rises the tall campanile of _Santa Chiara_ over the tomb of St.

Clare. At the left is the fortress-like edifice of the _Sagro

Convento_ on the Hill of Paradise, once known as the _Colle

d’Inferno_, where St. Francis desired to be buried among malefactors.

This monastery against the mountain side stands on a long line of

double arches that seem hewn out of the very cliff. It is one of the

most imposing and most interesting monuments in Italy, and astonishes

the eye by its bold, massive, and picturesque appearance, quite in

harmony with the old mediæval city. It has been called the _Sagro

Convento_ ever since its consecration by Pope Innocent IV. in 1243—the

Sacred Convent, _par excellence_. _Santa Chiara_ and this convent of

St. Francis seem like two strongholds at the extremities of the town

to protect it from danger. Between them it rises in terraces, crowned

by a ruined old citadel of feudal times. The declining sun lighted up

its domes, and towers, and venerable gray walls as we ascended, and

made it seem to our enraptured eyes a seraphic city indeed.

Half way up the hill we came to the Spedalicchio—the ancient ’Spital

where St. Francis so often came to take care of the lepers. It was

here, as he was borne on a litter to the Porziuncula by the friars, a

few days before his death, he begged them to stop and turn him around,

not to take a last look at the city he loved—for the eyes that had

wept so many tears were now blind—but to bless it with uplifted hands,

in solemn, tender words that have been graven over one of the gates:

_Benedicta tu civitas a Domino, quia per te multæ animæ salvabuntur,

et in te multi servi Altissimi habitabunt, et de te multi eligentur ad

regnum æternum._—A city blessed of the Lord art thou, because by thee

many souls shall be saved, and in thee shall dwell many servants of

the Most High, and from thee many shall be chosen to reign for ever

and ever!

With what emotion one enters its gates!… We drove through old, narrow,

ascending streets, silent and monastic, named after the saints; past

old rock-built houses of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, with

the holy names of Jesus and Mary over nearly every door; flower-pots

with pinks and gillyflowers in all the windows, even the poorest, or

on ledges, or set in rings projecting from the walls; and women

spinning under the old archways like St. Clare, who, we are told, even

when wasted and enfeebled by her austerities, sat up in bed and span

linen of marvellous fineness.

Our hotel was close to the _Sagro Convento_, and, though extremely

fatigued, we at once hastened to the church, not to examine its

treasures of art, but to pray and find repose of heart overburdened by

the flood of memories that come over one in such a place as Assisi.

Then we returned to our room, and sat at the window looking off at the

setting sun and golden sky, and the shining dome of St. Mary of the

Angels, and the broad plain where was held the famous Chapter of Mats

in St. Francis’ time, with its narrow river winding through it. It was

like the page of a beautiful poem laid open before us. St. Francis

loved these hills clothed with the pale olive, this valley covered

with harvests and the vine, the free air and azure heavens, the

running stream, a fine prospect; and we sat long after the rich,

glorious convent bells rang out the Ave Maria, gazing at the fair

scene before us. Purple shadows began to creep up the rugged sides of

the hill, the golden light faded away in the wrest, the dome over the

Porziuncula grew dim, and the valley was covered with the rising

mists. It was time to close the window.

We spent most of the following day in the church. It is the very

inflorescence of Christian art, a great epic poem in honor of St.

Francis. A pope laid the corner-stone. All Christendom sent its

offerings. The most celebrated architects and painters of the time

lent the aid of their genius. One would think it had grown out of the

hill against which it is built. Its azure vaults starred with gold,

its ribbed arches that bend low like the boughs of a gloomy forest,

the delicacy of its carvings, its marble pavement, its windows with

their jewelled panes, and above all its walls covered with mystic

paintings that read like the very poetry of religion, need almost the

tongue of angels to describe them. M. Taine says: “No one, till he has

seen this unrivalled edifice, can have any idea of the art and genius

of the middle ages. Taken in connection with Dante and the _Fioretti_

of St. Francis, it is the masterpiece of mystic Christianity.” It was

the first Gothic church erected in Italy.[192] It is built in the form

of a cross, in memory of the mysterious crucifixion of St. Francis.

Its walls are of white marble, in honor of the Immaculate Virgin; and

there are twelve towers of red marble, in memory of the blood shed by

the Holy Apostles. It consists of two churches, one above the other,

and a crypt beneath, where lies the body of St. Francis. The upper

church is entered from a grassy terrace on the top of the Hill of

Paradise. The lower one opens at the side into an immense court

surrounded by an arcade. This under church, with its low Byzantine

arches, full of the mysterious gloom and solemnity so favorable to

pensive contemplation and prayer, has often been supposed typical of

the self-abasement and mortified life of St. Francis. Its delicious

chapels, with their struggling light, are well calculated to excite

sadness, penitence, and tears. The crypt beneath, with its horrible

darkness, its damp walls and death-like stillness, and its one tomb in

the centre awaiting the Resurrection, is a veritable limbo; while the

upper church, with its lofty, graceful, upspringing arches, all light

and joy, is symbolic of the transfigured soul of the seraphic Francis

in the beatitude of eternal glory.

But how can we go peering around this museum of Christian art, as if

in a picture-gallery? It would be positively wicked. The knee

instinctively bends before the saintly forms that people the twilight

solemnity of the lower church. It was thus we gazed up at Giotto’s

matchless frescos of the three monastic virtues on the arches over the

high altar, which stands directly above the tomb of St.

Francis—Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience—fit crown indeed for that

“meek man of God.” We remember seeing them during the Forty Hours’

Devotion, when the candles lit them up wondrously; the figures came

out in startling relief; the angels seemed actually hovering over the

divine Host below. The most celebrated of these paintings is the

_Spozalizio_ sung by Dante—the mystic espousals of St. Francis with

Poverty, the lady of his choice.

“A Dame to whom none openeth pleasure’s gate

More than to death, was, ‘gainst his father’s will,

His stripling choice: and he did make her his

Before the spiritual court by nuptial bonds.”

This was not an original conception of Giotto’s or Dante’s. They only

gave a more artistic expression to the popular belief. There was not a

cottage in Umbria that did not believe in these espousals of St.

Francis with Lady Poverty, who had, says the Divine Poet, lived more

than a thousand years bereft of her first bridegroom, Christ; and it

was from the lips of the poor and lowly they gathered the significant

allegory. It was also before their time St. Bonaventura wrote: “St.

Francis, journeying to Siena in the broad plain between Campiglia and

San Quirico, was encountered by three maidens in poor raiment, exactly

resembling each other in age and appearance, who saluted him with the

words: ‘Welcome, Lady Poverty,’ and suddenly disappeared. The brethren

not irrationally concluded that this apparition imported some mystery

pertaining to St. Francis, and that by the three poor maidens were

signified Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience, the sum and beauty of

evangelical perfection, all of which shone with equal and consummate

lustre in the man of God, though he made the privilege of poverty his

chief glory.”

Dante with all his pride, and Giotto with his repugnance to poverty,

even when consecrated by religion, chose one of the most democratic of

subjects when they depicted these sacred espousals of St. Francis; for

it was the people he identified himself with in this union. He wedded

for better and worse the sorrows and misery, the misfortunes and

groans, of Italy,[193] and when dying,

“To his brotherhood,

As their just heritage, he gave in charge

His dearest Lady, and enjoined their love

And faith to her.”

The church teaches that the poor are Christ’s suffering members; that

it is he who is hungered and athirst in the sick and destitute; to him

is every alms given. St. Francis gave his whole being to Poverty thus

identified with Christ—a bride chosen only by a few elect souls in

these days of luxury and self-indulgence, but in whom the Christian

philosophers of the middle ages found an infinite charm. Plato

represents Love with bare feet and tattered, disordered garments, to

signify the forgetfulness of self that gives all and reserves nothing.

It is in this sense the choice of evangelical poverty is one of the

highest expressions of love to God in the Catholic Church.

“O hidden riches! O prolific good!” exclaims Dante. And no one ever

understood its value more than St. Francis, the _glorioso poverello di

Christo_, who was, says Bossuet, “perhaps the most desperate lover of

poverty ever known in the church.”

“O Lord Jesus!” cries St. Francis, “show me the ways of thy

dear Poverty.… Take pity on me and my lady Poverty whom I

love with so much ardor. Without her I can find no peace.

And it is thou, O my God! who hast inspired this great love.

She is seated in the dust of the highway, and her friends

pass her by with contempt. Thou seest the abasement of this

queen, O Lord Jesus! who didst descend from heaven to make

her thy spouse, and through her to beget children worthy of

thee, who art perfect. She was in the humility of thy

Mother’s womb. She was at the manger. She had her part in

the great combat thou didst fight for our redemption. In thy

Passion she alone did not abandon thee. Mary, thy Mother,

remained at the foot of the cross, but Poverty ascended it

with thee.[194] She clung more closely than ever to thy

breast. It was she who lovingly prepared the rude nails that

pierced thy hands and feet; she who didst present thee with

gall when thou wast suffering from thirst.… Thou didst die

in her loving embrace.… And even then this faithful spouse

did not forsake thee. She had thy body buried in the grave

of another. She wrapped thy cold limbs in the tomb, and with

her thou didst come forth glorious. Therefore thou hast

crowned her in heaven, and chosen her to mark thy elect with

the sign of redemption. Oh! who would not choose Lady

Poverty above all other brides? O Jesus! who for our sakes

didst become poor, the grace I beg of thee is the privilege

of sharing thy poverty. I ardently desire to be enriched

with this treasure. I pray thee that I and mine may never

possess anything in the world of our own, for the glory of

thy name, but that we may only subsist, during this

miserable life, on that which is given us in alms.”

How foreign this seems to the spirit of our age; and yet it is the

science of the cross, of which we need an infusion to counterbalance

the general worship of Mammon. Coleridge seems to have caught a

glimpse of the beauty and dignity of poverty when he wrote:

“It is a noble doctrine that teaches how slight a thing is

Poverty; what riches, nay, treasures untold, a man may

possess in the midst of it, if he does but seek them aright;

how much of the fiend’s apparent bulk is but a fog vapor of

the sickly and sophisticated mind. It is a noble endeavor

that would bring men to tread the fear of this phantom under

their firm feet, and _dare_ to be poor!”

Giotto represents St. Francis receiving his bride from the hands of

Christ himself. Her head is crowned with roses and light, but her feet

are bleeding from the thorns of the rough way. Her cheeks are hollow

and pale, but her eyes are full of fire. Her garments are worn and in

tatters, but she is beautiful with modesty and love. Hers is the

tempered spiritual beauty of one who has been chastened by misfortune,

but there is nothing of the degradation of human passion. It is the

poverty of country life, free, modest, unabashed, but ennobled by an

expression that religion alone can give. Worldlings attack her with

blows, and a dog, that last friend of the poor, is barking at her with

fury. Angels, beaming with joy and admiration, encircle these

mysterious nuptials. Below, in one corner, are the vices of the times

personified—the rapacity of the nobility, and the greed of monks who

have become unmindful of their obligations. At the left is the

youthful Francis sharing his mantle with a beggar, while an angel

above is ascending with the garment to heaven. The central figure in

the painting is the radiant form of Him who took upon himself the

likeness of the poor, on whose condition he now confers fresh dignity

by perpetuating a love of poverty in the person of Francis and his

order. Over all are angels of sacrifice offering to God the riches

that have been abandoned for the love of him.

Philosophy, poetry, and religion are all in this wonderful allegory,

which has shone here nearly six hundred years as a memorial and a

perpetual admonition to the followers of St. Francis.

Chastity is represented under the veiled form of a maiden who has

taken refuge in the tower of a fortress, defended by a triple wall,

and guarded by Innocence and Fortitude. She is kneeling in the

attitude of prayer, while angels bring her a crown and a palm. Before

the castle gates are depicted the divine means of purifying the human

soul: Baptism, with the cardinal virtues in attendance, and an angel

bearing the robe of innocence; Penance, in her hood and garb of serge,

or, as some say, St. Francis receiving new members into his fold,

among whom may be seen Dante in the habit of the Third Order; and

angels of Expiation consigning unseemly vices to the purifying flames

of a yawning gulf.

_Sancta Obedientia_, the least pleasing of these paintings, is

represented by the monastic yoke placed on the shoulders of a novice.

Prudence and Humility are at his side; the former, entrenched behind a

barrier with mirror and compass, has two faces, one examining the past

and the other considering the future. Humility is bearing a torch. The

old Adam of the human heart, under the form of a centaur, is put to

flight by these virtues.[195]

In the midst of these three priceless jewels is represented St.

Francis radiant with holiness, in a rich deacon’s dress, on a throne

of gold, and surrounded by angels who hymn his praise. Never was

mortal more glorified on earth than the humble St. Francis, out of

whose tomb has grown this richest flower of mediæval art.

On the wall of the left transept is a sublime painting of the

Crucifixion by Pietro Cavallini—one of the most important monuments of

the school of Giotto, who was one of the first to soften the

representations of the awful sufferings of Christ by an expression of

divine resignation and beauty of form. The Byzantine type of the

twelfth century, still scrupulously adhered to, was repulsive and

expressive only of the lowest stage of human suffering, as all know

who have seen the green, livid figures of Christ on the cross by

Margaritone, who died of grief at seeing his standard of excellence

set aside and despised. Cavallini, whose piety was so fervent that he

was regarded as a saint, had scruples, however, about condemning as an

artist what he had knelt before in prayer, though he widely departed

from the old school. Nothing could be more beautiful or pathetic than

the angels in this picture, who are weeping and wringing their hands

with anguish around the dying Saviour.… Among the figures below is

Walter de Brienne, Duke of Athens, then (in 1342) at the head of the

Florentine republic, for whom this picture was painted. He is on

horseback with a jewelled cap, clothed in rich robes, and, strange to

say, with a nimbus around his head, which seems to have been a symbol

of power as well as sanctity in those days.

It was one of Cavallini’s Christs[196] that spoke to St. Bridget at

St. Paul’s without the walls of Rome; and he was the architect of the

shrine of Edward the Confessor at Westminster Abbey.

At the foot of the altar beneath the Crucifixion is buried Mary of

Savoy, granddaughter of Philip II. of Spain, a member of the Third

Order of St. Francis, who often came here to venerate his tomb and

seek counsel of St. Joseph of Copertino, then an inmate of the _Sagro

Convento_.

All the chapels of this lower church are famous for their frescos by

noted artists. Simone Memmi, the friend of Petrarch, and painter of

Laura, has covered one with the life of St. Martin, who, like St.

Francis after him, divided his cloak with a beggar, remaining for ever

a symbol of the divine words: I was naked and ye clothed me. The

Maddalena Chapel is covered with the legend of the

“Redeemed Magdalene,

And that Egyptian penitent whose tears

Fretted the rock, and moistened round her cave

The thirsty desert,”

by Puccio Capana, who became so attached to Assisi that he settled

there for life.

The melancholy Giottino adorned the chapel of St. Nicholas with his

usual harmony of color. On the arches of the chapel of St. Louis of

France a Franciscan tertiary, Adone Doni, painted the beautiful Sibyls

which Raphael admired and imitated at _Santa Maria della Pace_ in

Rome. Taddeo Gaddi, the godson and favorite pupil of Giotto, has also

left here many touching and beautiful paintings. In fact, all the

renowned artists of the day seemed to vie with each other in adorning

this monument to the memory of St. Francis, and some of their works

were offerings of love and gratitude. To the artistic eye they are

models worthy of study, but to us pilgrims so many visions of beauty

and holiness.

In the sacristy is the most authentic portrait of St. Francis in

existence, by Giunta Pisano—a lank, wasted form that by no means

reflects the charm the saint most certainly had to attract so many

disciples around him, to say nothing of his power over the beasts of

the earth and the birds of the air. Two marble staircases lead down to

the sepulchral chamber where lies the body of St. Francis. This crypt,

or third church, as it is sometimes called, is of recent construction,

and, though not in harmony with the upper churches, is a prodigious

achievement, dug as it is out of the rock on which the whole edifice

rests. It is of the Doric order, and in the form of a Greek cross, and

lined with precious marbles. It is dark and tomb-like, being lighted

only by lamps around the bronze shrine, which stands in the very

centre. The body of St. Francis had lain nearly six hundred years in

the heart of the mountain, shrouded in a mystery that had given rise

to many popular legends. When brought here in 1230, it was still

flexible as when he was alive, and the mysterious stigmata distinctly

visible. This was four years after his death. It was then shown to the

people in its cypress coffin, amid the flourish of trumpets and the

shouts of the multitude, and put on a magnificent car drawn by oxen

which were covered with purple draperies sent by the Emperor of

Constantinople, and escorted by a long procession of friars with palms

and torches in their hands, chanting hymns composed by Pope Gregory

IX. himself. Legates, bishops, and a multitude of clergy followed. But

the car was guarded by the magistrates of Assisi, and so fearful were

the people lest the body of their saint should be taken from them

that, when it arrived at the _Colle d’Inferno_, they would not allow

the clergy to take possession of it, but buried it themselves in the

very bowels of the earth. Hence a certain mystery that always hung

over the tomb.

It is related that the third night after his burial the mountain was

shaken by an earthquake and surrounded by an unearthly light. The

friars, hastening to the place where they knew their patriarch lay

hidden, found the rock rent asunder and the saint standing on his tomb

with transfigured face and eyes raised to heaven. Gregory IX. is said

to have come to witness the prodigy, and left this inscription on the

wall: _Ante obitum mortuus; post obitum vivens_—Before his death,

dead; after death, living.

It became a popular belief that this body, which bore the impress of

the Passion of Christ, would never see corruption, and that he would

remain thus, ever living and praying, in the depths of his

inaccessible tomb.

In 1818 Pius VII. authorized the Franciscans to search for the body of

their founder. After continued excavations in the rock for fifty-two

days, or rather nights (for they worked in the silence and secrecy of

the night), they came to an iron grate that protected the narrow

recess where lay the saint. It was then the crypt was constructed to

receive the sacred body. The same old grate is before the present

shrine, and the sacristan thrust his torch through the bars, that we

might catch a glimpse of the remains of one

“Whose marvellous life deservedly were sung

In heights empyreal.”

Around this glorious tomb all the Franciscans of Assisi, before they

were suppressed by the present Italian government, used to gather

every Saturday at the vesper hour, to chant, with lighted tapers in

hand, the Psalm _Voce mea ad Dominum clamavi_, sung by St. Francis

when he was dying. It has been set to music by one of the friars in a

grand air known as the _Transito_ because it celebrates the _transit_

of the saint to a higher life. This became one of the attractions of

the place which kings and princes considered it a favor to hear, but

of course it is no longer sung. Let us hope that this forced

suspension is only transitory.

At the door of the crypt are the statues of Pius VII., in whose

pontificate it was constructed, and Pius IX., a member of the Third

Order, who has surrounded it with twelve bas-reliefs representing the

life of the saint.

A long flight of stone steps leads from the lower court to the terrace

before the upper church, which is grassy and starred with daisies.

This church is as lofty and brilliant with light as the other is

gloomy and low-browed. Cimabue and Giotto adorned its walls with

paintings that are now sadly defaced, but they have a fascination no

modern artist can inspire, and we linger over them as over the

remembrance of some half-forgotten dream, hoping to catch a clearer

view before they fade for ever away. Above are scenes from the Holy

Scriptures—a glorious _Biblia Pauperum_, indeed, it must have been

when fresh from the artist’s hands; and this is especially the church

of the people, as the lower one is that of the friars. Below is the

wondrous life of St. Francis, a poem in twenty-eight cantos, by

Giotto, the painter of St. Francis _par excellence_, who never seemed

weary of his favorite subject.

There are over one hundred stalls in the choir, delicately carved by

Sanseverino, with curious intarsia-work representing the popes,

doctors, and saints of the Franciscan Order.

The beautiful lancet windows of the thirteenth and fourteenth

centuries are “suffused with lessons sweet of heavenly lore,” glorious

in color, which gives marvellous hues to Cimabue’s angels who hover in

the arches with “varied plume and changeful vest.” The lower church is

that of poor mortals who struggle with earth and grope for the light.

This one depicts the glory of the saints, and is a symbol of Paradise.

Connected with the church is the _Sagro Convento_, which is entered by

an arched passage lined with portraits of distinguished Franciscans.

There are four large cloisters, now solitary but for the ascetic forms

painted on their walls, and the silent tombs of the dead friars. Long

corridors, lined with saints of the Order, lead to the narrow cells

intended for the living. Two refectories were shown us, one large

enough to contain two hundred and fifty persons, with _Silentium_ in

great letters on the wall over the fine Cenacolo by Solimena. Opposite

the latter is a Crucifixion by Adone Doni, with Jerusalem and Assisi

in the background, and SS. Francis and Clare at the foot of the cross.

Narrow tables extended around the room, with seats against the wall on

which the _Benedicite_ is carved.

But the most striking feature of this vast monastery is the immense

gallery on the western side, like an arcade on the brink of a

precipice, with a torrent in the depths below. This was constructed by

Sixtus IV., whose statue is at one end. It affords a grand view over

the whole Umbrian valley. Montefalco, Spello, and Perugia are in full

sight; below is the Porziuncula; in the distance the purple Apennines,

with the glorious Italian sky over all. One needs no better book of

devotion than this page of nature.

On the other side of the monastery the windows look down on the garden

of the friars with charming walks on the side of the mountain amid

olives and cypresses.

It was not till the second morning we began to explore Assisi. What

queer old lanes, up and down hill, we passed along, the walls covered

with moss and ferns out of which green lizards darted! The streets

were grassy and noiseless, being mostly inaccessible to carriages.

Coats-of-arms are sculptured over many of the massive old portals,

accompanied, perhaps, with some religious symbol. On one was _Viva

Gesu e Maria!_ Another had _Ubi Deus ibi pax_. Every few moments we

came to a lovely fresco of the Madonna—too beautiful a flower to bloom

on the rough highways of life. Everything was old and quaint, and in

harmony with the traditions of the place; everything redolent of the

middle ages and of the memory of St. Francis. Assisi is full of

monuments that perpetuate some incident of his life. There is _San

Francesco il Piccolo_—Little St. Francis—an oratory on the site of the

stable where he was born, with the inscription:

Hoc oratorium fuit bovis et asini stabulum

In quo natus est Franciscus mundi speculum;

—This chapel was the stable of an ox and ass, wherein was born

Francis, the mirror of the world.[197]

The _Chiesa Nuova_—the _New Church_, but over two hundred and sixty

years old—was built by Philip III. of Spain on the site of the house

of Pietro Bernardone, the father of St. Francis, and has always been

under the protection of the Spanish crown. It is in the form of a

Greek cross, with five domes in memory of the five mystic wounds of

the saint. Over the entrance are graven the arms of Spain. A flock of

white pigeons was around the door. A young friar with mild, pleasant

eyes came forward in his brown habit to show us the church. Some

portions of the original house of Bernardone have been preserved;

among others, a low, round arch with an old door held together by iron

clamps. And at the left is the low cell in which St. Francis was

confined three days by his father for selling some of his goods to

repair San Damiano. In it is a statue of the saint, kneeling with

folded hands, before which we found flowers and a burning lamp. Around

the central dome are statues of celebrated Franciscans: St. Louis of

Toulouse, St. Clare, St. Diego, and St. Elizabeth of Hungary. In the

presbytery is shown St. Francis’ chamber.

In the bishop’s palace is the room where St. Francis stripped off his

garments in the presence of his father, and the bishop covered him

with his mantle. It contains a painting of the scene.

There is an oratory where once dwelt Bernard de Quintavalle, the first

disciple of Francis. Here he saw the saint upon his knees all night,

weeping and exclaiming, _Deus meus et omnia_—My God and my all! and

conceived such a veneration for him that he

“Did bare his feet, and in pursuit of peace,

So heavenly, ran, yet deemed his footing slow.”

The church of St. Nicholas is where they consulted the Gospel to know

what manner of life they should lead.

On our way to all these places, so touching to the heart of a

Catholic, we passed the theatre named for Metastasio, who was enrolled

among the citizens of Assisi, and whose father was a native of the

place. We visited likewise the portico of the temple of Minerva, now a

church, which is one of the finest specimens of Greek art in Italy.

Goethe stopped at Assisi on purpose to visit it, but, like our own

Hawthorne after him, passed by the marvels of art around the tomb of

St. Francis.

It must not be supposed that all this while we have forgotten St.

Clare, the moon in the heavens of the Franciscan Order, of which St.

Francis is the sun, as Lope de Vega, the celebrated Spanish poet, and,

by the way, a Franciscan tertiary, says:

“Cielo es vuestra religion

Y como sol haveis sido,

Quereis que haya luna Clara

Mas que su mismo appellido.”

We now went to visit her shrine, which is in the church of _Santa

Chiara_, on the very edge of the hill at the western extremity of

Assisi. The so-called piazza in front is rather a broad terrace from

which one looks directly down on the tops of the olives below. The

church is of the purest Gothic style of the thirteenth century, with

enormous flying buttresses to preserve it from earthquakes. Its lofty

campanile with open arches is one of the prominent features of Assisi.

Adjoining is the monastery of Clarists, that looks more like a castle

with ramparts and battlements. We entered the sculptured portal

between two lions growling over their cubs, and found ourselves in a

great church without aisles, almost without ornament, cold, severe,

and deserted. It was once nearly covered with paintings, of which only

a few remain. Over the main altar are encircled some of the celebrated

virgin saints who early gave their souls to heaven: Agnes, Cecilia,

Catherine, Lucy, Clare—a _Corona Virginum_ indeed, full of delicacy

and expression, painted by Giottino. In a side chapel is an

interesting old picture of St. Clare, said to have been painted by

Cimabue thirty years after her death. It represents her with noble but

delicate features, a fair complexion and smiling lips, and majestic in

form. In fact, she was of uncommon stature. The body of her sister

Agnes is in a tomb over the altar.

This church was first known as St. George’s, but took the name of St.

Clare after her body was brought here for burial. Here the

canonization of St. Francis took place. Through a grate that looks

into the nuns’ chapel, we saw by the light of a candle the old

Byzantine crucifix—of the tenth century, at least—which spoke to

Francis at San Damiano: _Vade, Francisce, et repara domum meam quæ

labitur_. It is painted on wood, with the Maries and St. John at the

foot, and angels hovering over the arms of the cross.

A broad staircase leads down from the nave to the subterranean chapel

recently constructed for the shrine of St. Clare. Her sacred remains,

by the permission of Pius IX., were, in 1850, taken out of the narrow

recess in the rock where they had lain five hundred and ninety years.

All the bones were found perfect. One hand was on her breast, the

other at her side with the remains of some fragrant flowers. On her

head was a wreath of laurel, the leaves still green and flexible; and

scattered around her were leaves of wild thyme. These remains were

borne solemnly through the city she and St. Francis have made so

illustrious. Children strewed the way before them with flowers and

green leaves, after the fashion of Italy, and young maidens followed

with lilies in their hands. In this manner they were taken to the

_Sagro Convento_, stopping at six convents on the way, and brought

back at night by the light of torches. They are now in a beautiful

Gothic chapel, partly due to the liberality of Pius IX. Two nuns in

gray showed us the shrine. St. Clare lies on a rich marble couch, with

a lily in her hand, and the rules of her rigid order on her breast,

surrounded by lamps. We also saw some of the long, fair hair cut off

at the Porziuncula, and some of the fine linen she spun with her own

hands.

Passing through an old gateway a little beyond _Santa Chiara_, we left

the city and strolled leisurely down the long, steep side of the

mountain, along a charming road lined with hedges and groves of

olive-trees. The fields were bright with poppies, the trees melodious

with birds, and the burning sun of Italy as intense as the soul of St.

Francis, who must often have trod the same path. At length we came to

a Madonna in a niche, at the corner of a group of buildings, with a

few faded flowers before her, and, in a minute more, to an old church

and monastery that looked as if they needed again the restoring hand

of St. Francis. This is San Damiano, homely and simple, but like a

bird’s nest on the mountain-side, half hid among olives which, gnarled

and twisted and split asunder, looked as old as the convent itself. It

seemed a fit dove-cot for the gentle Clare and her companions, whom

St. Francis established here in quietness and solitude.

A small court leads to the church, before which is a portico with a

fresco of St. Clare repulsing the Saracens. These Saracens were in the

employ of Frederick II. On their way to attack Assisi, ravaging the

country as they went, they came to San Damiano, and scaled the convent

walls in the night. The poor nuns, in their terror, took refuge around

the bed of St. Clare, who, though ill, rose by the aid of two sisters,

and, taking the Blessed Sacrament in her hands, she went forth on the

balcony, chanting in a loud voice: “Thou hast rebuked the heathen,

thou hast destroyed the wicked, thou hast put out their name for ever

and ever!” This unexpected apparition in the darkness of night, amid

the light that streamed around the uplifted Host, so terrified the

infidel band that they took immediate flight. All Assisi resounded

with hymns of joy. But a few days after they returned anew, vowing to

take the city. Then Clare and her companions covered their heads with

ashes, and, prostrating themselves before the altar, wept and prayed

till the enemy was dispersed by the valiant citizens. This was on the

22d of June, 1234, on which day the inhabitants of Assisi vowed an

annual pilgrimage to San Damiano in gratitude for their deliverance.

Everything in this convent has been left in its primitive simplicity.

The bell is merely suspended from the wall. The rafters are bare. The

buildings are of unpolished stone. Everything bears the impress of the

evangelical poverty its inmates embraced. But nature supplies what is

lacking in art. The site is delicious. The view from the terrace is

lovely, with the dear Porziuncula in the distance, and the fertile

valley radiant in the sun.

The Catholic World, Vol. 23, April, 1876-September, 1876. A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and Science · 第 22 / 25 章