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DONAHOE'S MAGAZINE
_A Monthly Journal_
CONTAINING
TALES, BIOGRAPHY, EPISODES IN IRISH AND AMERICAN HISTORY, POETRY,
MISCELLANY, ETC.
_AN EXTREMELY INTERESTING VOLUME._
* * * * *
VOL. XV.
JANUARY, 1886, TO JULY, 1886.
* * * * *
BOSTON:
THOMAS B. NOONAN & COMPANY.
1886.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note: Minor typos have been corrected and footnotes have
been moved to the end of the chapters. This issue only contains January,
1886.
* * * * *
Contents.
A.
An Affecting Incident at Sea, 32.
Alone, 42.
A Midnight Mass, 42.
Abolishing Barmaids, 80.
A Valiant Soldier of the Cross, 132.
A Child of Mary, 144.
A Christmas Carol, 165.
A Silly Threat, 173.
A Chapter of Irish History, 223.
About Critics, 256.
A Thought for Easter, 460.
B.
Bay State Faugh-a-Ballaghs, 229, 347.
Blaine on Britain, 438.
Before the Battle, 550.
C.
Crown and Crescent, 79.
Christianity in China, 81.
Capital and Labor--Strikes, 232.
Columbus and Ireland, 368.
Chanson, 406.
Canossa at Last, 522.
Chinese Labor, 505.
D.
Dead Man's Island: The story of an Irish Country Town, 33, 145.
Drunkenness in Old Times, 351.
Deaths of the Apostles, 460.
Decrees of the Third Plenary Council, 529.
Death of Rev. Father Ryan, 570.
E.
Encyclical Letter of Our Most Holy Lord Leo XIII,
by Divine Providence, Pope, 1.
Encyclical Proclaiming the Jubilee, 259.
England and her Enemies, 264.
Echoes from the Pines, 310.
Emmet's Rebellion, 335.
Emmet's Love, 435.
Early Irish Settlers in Virginia, 523.
Etoile du Soir, 501.
F.
Four Thousand Years, 80.
Faro's Daughters, 82.
Frau Hütt: A Legend of Tyrol, 308.
Farewell, my Home, 345.
Father Matt, 497.
G.
Gladstone at Emmet's Grave, 61.
Gerald Griffin, 62, 139.
George Washington, 142.
Give Charity while you Live, 333.
Gladstone, 536.
H.
His Eminence John Cardinal McCloskey, with Portrait, 18.
Harvard College and the Catholic Theory of Education, 31.
Honor to the Germans, 57.
Historical Notes of Tallaght, 405.
Hancock and the Irish Brigade, 411.
Heroism, 542.
Home Rule, 565.
I.
Interest Savings Banks, 228.
Ireland: A Retrospect, 266.
Ingratitude of France in the Irish Struggle, 277.
Instances of Divine Vengeance, 445.
Ireland our Mother Land, 447.
J.
Juvenile Department, 83, 179, 270, 373, 469, 552.
John Scotus Erigena, 306.
John C. Schayer, 568.
K.
Knights of Labor, 433.
L.
Low-necked Dresses, 367.
Leo the Great, 466.
M.
Mary E. Blake, 139.
Musings from Foreign Poets, 312.
Much-a-Wanted, 339.
Mixed Marriages, 344.
Miss Mulholland's Poems, 369.
Major-General John Newton, 401.
May Ditty, 465.
"My Victim:" A Tale, 506.
N.
Notes on Current Topics, 97, 193, 289, 385, 481, 573.
Notices of Recent Publications, 105, 205, 301, 381, 397, 487, 585.
O.
Order of the Buried Alive, 30.
Obituary, 107, 207, 302, 398, 496, 586.
Our Neighbors, 168.
Our Gaelic Tongue, 222.
O'Connell and Parnell, 278.
Our New Cardinal, 359.
Orders of Knighthood, 366.
Our Saviour's Personal Appearance, 414.
P.
Private Judgment a Failure, 72.
Priests and People Mourning, 74.
Personal, 104, 300, 396, 493, 584.
Parnell's Strength, 172.
Pen Sketches of Irish Litterateurs, 209.
Pneumonia, 462.
R.
Rev. Father Fulton, S. J., 71.
Rapidity of Time's Flight, 178.
Reminiscences of the Battle of Kilmallock, 503.
Rev. Father Scully's Gymnasium, 537.
Rabies (Hydrophobia), 543.
S.
Sing, Sing for Christmas, 32.
Southern Sketches, 125, 215, 113, 440, 516.
Senator John J. Hayes, 235.
Saints and Serpents, 237.
Seeing the Old Year Out, 370.
Sir Thomas Grattan Esmond, Bart., 415.
St. Rose, 434.
Shamrocks, 440.
Sorrowing Mother, 515.
Science and Politics, 502.
T.
The Pope and the Mikado, 29.
The Hero of Lepanto, 44.
The Church and Progress, 49.
Tracadie and the Trappists, 59.
The Humorist, 96, 210, 306.
The Columbian Army of Derry, 113.
The Penitent on the Cross, 120.
The Celt on America, 121.
The Late Father Tom Burke, 166.
The Old Year's Army of Martyrs, 170.
The Pope on Christian Education, 174.
Te Deum, 176.
The Poems of Rosa Mulholland, 248.
The Celts of South America, 258.
The Welcome of the Divine Guest, 305.
The Ursuline Convent of Tenos, 316.
The Church and Modern Progress, 328.
The Annunciation, 339.
The Ten-Commandment Theory, 346.
The Paschal Candle, 352.
The Irish as Conspirators, 362.
The National Catholic University, 407.
Thot's of Ireland, 423.
The Middogue, 424.
The Passion, 430.
The Holy Mass, 446.
The Instruments of the Passion, 464.
The New Era, 465.
Terrence V. Powderly, 561.
The Keegan Challenge Fund, 564.
The Providence Cathedral, 546.
Three Decisions, 551.
U.
Useful Knowledge, 95, 209, 305.
V.
Vindication, 58.
W.
What English Catholics are Contending For, 276.
William J. Onahan, 467.
* * * * *
[Illustration: HIS EMINENCE JOHN CARDINAL MCCLOSKEY.
See page 18.]
DONAHOE'S MAGAZINE.
* * * * *
Vol. XV.
BOSTON, JANUARY, 1886.
No. 1.
* * * * *
"THE future of the Irish race in this country, will depend largely upon
their capability of assuming an independent attitude in American
politics."--RIGHT REV. DOCTOR IRELAND, _St. Paul, Minn._
[Illustration: Coat of Arms]
Encyclical Letter
OF OUR MOST HOLY LORD LEO XIII., BY DIVINE PROVIDENCE POPE,
CONCERNING THE CHRISTIAN CONSTITUTION OF STATES.
TO ALL THE PATRIARCHS, PRIMATES, ARCHBISHOPS AND BISHOPS OF THE CATHOLIC
WORLD, IN THE GRACE AND COMMUNION OF THE APOSTOLIC SEE,
LEO PP XIII.
_Venerable Brethren, Health and Apostolic Benediction._
The work of a merciful God, the Church looks essentially, and from the
very nature of her being, to the salvation of souls and the winning for
them of happiness in heaven, nevertheless, she also secures even in this
world, advantages so many and so great that she could not do more, even
if she had been founded primarily and specially to secure prosperity in
this life which is worked out upon earth. In truth, wherever the Church
has set her foot she has at once changed the aspect of affairs, colored
the manners of the people as with new virtues and a refinement unknown
before--as many people as have accepted this have been distinguished for
their gentleness, their justice, and the glory of their deeds. But the
accusation is an old one, and not of recent date, that the Church is
incompatible with the welfare of the commonwealth, and incapable of
contributing to those things, whether useful or ornamental, which,
naturally and of its own will, every rightly-constituted State eagerly
strives for. We know that on this ground, in the very beginnings of the
Church, the Christians, from the same perversity of view, were
persecuted and constantly held up to hatred and contempt, so that they
were styled the enemies of the Empire. And at that time it was generally
popular to attribute to Christianity the responsibility for the evils
beneath which the State was beaten down, when in reality, God, the
avenger of crimes, was requiring a just punishment from the guilty. The
wickedness of this calumny, not without cause, fired the genius and
sharpened the pen of Augustine, who, especially in his _Civitate Dei_,
set forth so clearly the efficacy of Christian wisdom, and the way in
which it is bound up with well-being of States, that he seems not only
to have pleaded the cause of the Christians of his own time, but to have
triumphantly refuted these false charges for all time. But this unhappy
inclination to complaints and false accusations was not laid to rest,
and many have thought well to seek a system of civil life elsewhere than
in the doctrines which the Church approves. And now in these latter
times a new law, as they call it, has begun to prevail, which they
describe as the outcome of a world now fully developed, and born of a
growing liberty. But although many hazardous schemes have been
propounded by many, it is clear that never has any better method been
found for establishing and ruling the State than that which is the
natural result of the teaching of the Gospel. We deem it, therefore, of
the greatest moment, and especially suitable to our Apostolic function,
to compare with Christian doctrine the new opinions concerning the
State, by which method we trust that, truth being thus presented, the
causes of error and doubt will be removed, so that each may easily see
by those supreme commandments for living, what things he ought to
follow, and whom he ought to obey.
It is not a very difficult matter to set forth what form and appearance
the State should have if Christian philosophy governed the commonwealth.
By nature it is implanted in man that he should live in civil society,
for since he cannot attain in solitude the necessary means of civilized
life, it is a Divine provision that he comes into existence adapted for
taking part in the union and assembling of men, both in the Family and
in the State, which alone can supply adequate facilities for _the
perfecting of life_. But since no society can hold together unless some
person is over all, impelling individuals by efficient and similar
motives to pursue the common advantage, it is brought about that
authority whereby it may be ruled is indispensable to a civilized
community, which authority, as well as society, can have no other source
than nature, and consequently God Himself. And thence it follows that by
its very nature there can be no public power except from God alone. For
God alone is the most true and supreme Lord of the world, Whom
necessarily all things, whatever they be, must be subservient to and
obey, so that whoever possess the right of governing, can receive that
from no other source than from that supreme chief of all, God. "_There
is no power except from God._" (Rom. xiii. 1.) But the right of ruling
is not necessarily conjoined with any special form of commonwealth, but
may rightly assume this or that form, provided that it promotes utility
and the common good. But whatever be the kind of commonwealth, rulers
ought to keep in view God, the Supreme Governor of the world, and to set
Him before themselves as an example and a law in the administration of
the State. For as God, in things which are and which are seen, has
produced secondary causes, wherein the Divine nature and course of
action can be perceived, and which conduce to that end to which the
universal course of the world is directed, so in civil society He has
willed that there should be a government which should be carried on by
men who should reflect towards mankind an image as it were of Divine
power and Divine providence. The rule of the government, therefore,
should be just and not that of a master but rather that of a father,
because the power of God over men is most just and allied with a
father's goodness. Moreover, it is to be carried on with a view to the
advantage of the citizens, because they who are over others are over
them for this cause alone, that they may see to the interests of the
State. And in no way is it to be allowed that the civil authority should
be subservient merely to the advantage of one or of a few, since it was
established for the common good of all. But if they who are over the
State should lapse into unjust rule; if they should err through
arrogance or pride; if their measures should be injurious to the people,
let them know that hereafter an account must be rendered to God, and
that so much the stricter in proportion as they are intrusted with more
sacred functions, or have obtained a higher grade of dignity, "_The
mighty shall be mightily tormented._" (Wisd. vi. 7.)
Thus truly the majesty of rule will be attended with an honorable and
willing regard on the part of the citizens; for when once they have been
brought to conclude that they who rule are strong only with the
authority given by God, they will feel that those duties are due and
just, that they should be obedient to their rulers, and pay to them
respect and fidelity, with somewhat of the same affection as that of
children to their parents. "_Let every soul be subject to higher
powers._" (Rom. xiii. 1.)
Indeed, to contemn lawful authority, in whatever person it is vested, is
as unlawful as it is to resist the Divine will; and whoever resists
that, rushes voluntarily to his destruction. "_He who resists the power,
resists the ordinance of God; and they who resist, purchase to
themselves damnation._" (Rom. xiii. 2.) Wherefore to cast away
obedience, and by popular violence to incite the country to sedition, is
treason, not only against man, but against God.
It is clear that a State constituted on this basis is altogether bound
to satisfy, by the public profession of religion, the very many and
great duties which bring it into relation with God. Nature and reason
which commands every man individually to serve God holily and
religiously, because we belong to Him and coming from Him must return to
Him, binds by the same law the civil community. For men living together
in society are no less under the power of God than are individuals; and
society owes as much gratitude as individuals do to God, Who is its
author, its preserver, and the beneficent source of the innumerable
blessings which it has received. And therefore as it is not lawful for
anybody to neglect his duties towards God, and as it is the first duty
to embrace in mind and in conduct religion--not such as each may choose,
but such as God commands--in the same manner States cannot, without a
crime, act as though God did not exist, or cast off the care of religion
as alien to them or useless or out of several kinds of religion adopt
indifferently which they please; but they are absolutely bound, in the
worship of the Deity to adopt that use and manner in which God Himself
has shown that He wills to be adored. Therefore among rulers the name of
God must be holy, and it must be reckoned among the first of their
duties to favor religion, protect it, and cover it with the authority of
the laws, and not to institute or decree anything which is incompatible
with its security. They owe this also to the citizens over whom they
rule. For all of us men are born and brought up for a certain supreme
and final good in heaven, beyond this frail and short life, and to this
end all efforts are to be referred. And because upon it depends the full
and perfect happiness of men, therefore, to attain this end which has
been mentioned, is of as much interest as is conceivable to every
individual man. It is necessary then that a civil society, born for the
common advantage, in the guardianship of the prosperity of the
commonwealth, should so advance the interests of the citizens that in
holding up and acquiring that highest and inconvertible good which they
spontaneously seek, it should not only never import anything
disadvantageous, but should give all the opportunities in its power. The
chief of these is that attention should be paid to a holy and inviolate
preservation of religion, by the duties of which man is united to God.
Now which the true religion is may be easily discovered by any one who
will view the matter with a careful and unbiassed judgment; for there
are proofs of great number and splendor, as for example, the truth of
prophecy, the abundance of miracles, the extremely rapid spread of the
faith, even in the midst of its enemies and in spite of the greatest
hindrances, the testimony of the martyrs, and the like, from which it is
evident that that is the only true religion which Jesus Christ
instituted Himself and then entrusted to His Church to defend and to
spread.
For the only begotten Son of God set up a society on earth which is
called the Church, and to it He transferred that most glorious and
divine office, which He had received from His Father, to be perpetuated
forever. "_As the Father hath sent Me, even so I send you._" (John xx.
21.) "_Behold I am with you all days even to the consummation of the
world._" (Matt. xxviii. 20.) Therefore as Jesus Christ came into the
world, "_that men might have life and have it more abundantly_" (John x.
10), so also the Church has for its aim and end the eternal salvation of
souls; and for this cause it is so constituted as to embrace the whole
human race without any limit or circumscription either of time or place.
"_Preach ye the Gospel to every creature._" (Mark xvi. 15.) Over this
immense multitude of men God Himself has set rulers with power to
govern them; and He has willed that one should be head of them all, and
the chief and unerring teacher of truth, and to him He has given the
keys of the kingdom of heaven. "_To thee will I give the keys of the
kingdom of heaven._" (Matt. xvi. 19.) "_Feed My lambs, feed My sheep._"
(John xxi. 16, 17.) "_I have prayed for thee that thy faith may not
fail._" (Luke xxii. 32.) This society, though it be composed of men just
as civil society is, yet because of the end that it has in view, and the
means by which it tends to it, is supernatural and spiritual; and,
therefore, is distinguished from civil society and differs from it;
and--a fact of the highest moment--is a society perfect in its kind and
in its rights, possessing in and by itself, by the will and beneficence
of its Founder, all the appliances that are necessary for its
preservation and action. Just as the end, at which the Church aims, is
by far the noblest of ends, so its power is the most exalted of all
powers, and cannot be held to be either inferior to the civil power or
in any way subject to it. In truth Jesus Christ gave His Apostles
unfettered commissions over all sacred things, with the power of
establishing laws properly so-called, and the double right of judging
and punishing which follows from it: "_All power has been given to Me in
heaven and on earth; going, therefore, teach all nations;... teaching
them to keep whatsoever I have commanded you._" (Matt. xxviii. 18, 19,
20.) And in another place He says: "_If he will not hear, tell it to the
Church_" (Matt. xviii. 17); and again: "_Ready to punish all
disobedience_" (2 Cor. x. 6); and once more: "_I shall act with more
severity, according to the powers which our Lord has given me unto
edification and not unto destruction._" (2 Cor. xiii. 10.)
So then it is not the State but the Church that ought to be men's guide
to heaven; and it is to her that God has assigned the office of watching
and legislating for all that concerns religion, of teaching all nations;
of extending, as far as may be, the borders of Christianity; and, in a
word, of administering its affairs without let or hindrance, according
to her own judgment. Now this authority, which pertains absolutely to
the Church herself, and is part of her manifest rights, and which has
long been opposed by a philosophy subservient to princes, she has never
ceased to claim for herself and to exercise publicly: the Apostles
themselves being the first of all to maintain it, when, being forbidden
by the readers of the Synagogue to preach the Gospel, they boldly
answered, "_We must obey God rather than men._" (Acts v. 29.) This same
authority the holy Fathers of the Church have been careful to maintain
by weighty reasonings as occasions have arisen; and the Roman Pontiffs
have never ceased to defend it with inflexible constancy. Nay, more,
princes and civil governors themselves have approved it in theory and in
fact; for in the making of compacts, in the transaction of business, in
sending and receiving embassies, and in the interchange of other
offices, it has been their custom to act with the Church as with a
supreme and legitimate power. And we may be sure that it is not without
the singular providence of God that this power of the Church was
defended by the Civil Power as the best defence of its own liberty.
God, then, has divided the charge of the human race between two powers,
_viz._, the ecclesiastical and the civil, the one being set over divine,
and the other over human things. Each is the greatest in its own kind:
each has certain limits within which it is restricted, and those limits
defined by the nature and proximate cause of each; so that there is, as
we may say, a world marked off as a field for the proper action of each.
But forasmuch as each has dominion over the same subjects, since it
might come to pass that one and the same thing, though in different
ways, still one and the same, might pertain to the right and the
tribunal of both, therefore God, Who foreseeth all things, and Who has
established both powers, must needs have arranged the course of each in
right relation to one another, and in due order. "_For the powers that
are ordained by God._" (Rom. xiii. 1.) And if this were not so, causes
of rivalries and dangerous disputes would be constantly arising; and man
would often have to stop in anxiety and doubt, like a traveller with two
roads before him, not knowing what he ought to do, with two powers
commanding contrary things, whose authority however, he cannot refuse
without neglect of duty. But it would be most repugnant, so to think, of
the wisdom and goodness of God, Who, even in physical things, though
they are of a far lower order, has yet so attempered and combined
together the forces and causes of nature in an orderly manner and with a
sort of wonderful harmony, that none of them is a hindrance to the rest,
and all of them most fitly and aptly combine for the great end of the
universe. So, then, there must needs be a certain orderly connection
between these two powers, which may not unfairly be compared to the
union with which soul and body are united in man. What the nature of
that union is, and what its extent, cannot otherwise be determined than,
as we have said, by having regard to the nature of each power, and by
taking account of the relative excellence and nobility of their ends;
for one of them has for its proximate and chief aim the care of the
goods of this world, the other the attainment of the goods of heaven
that are eternal. Whatsoever, therefore, in human affairs is in any
manner sacred; whatsoever pertains to the salvation of souls or the
worship of God, whether it be so in its own nature, or on the other
hand, is held to be so for the sake of the end to which it is referred,
all this is in the power and subject to the free disposition of the
Church: but all other things which are embraced in the civil and
political order, are rightly subject to the civil authority, since Jesus
Christ has commanded that what is Cæsar's is to be paid to Cæsar, and
what is God's to God. Sometimes, however, circumstances arise when
another method of concord is available for peace and liberty; we mean
when princes and the Roman Pontiff come to an understanding concerning
any particular matter. In such circumstances the Church gives singular
proof of her maternal good-will, and is accustomed to exhibit the
highest possible degree of generosity and indulgence.
Such, then, as we have indicated in brief, is the Christian order of
civil society; no rash or merely fanciful fiction, but deduced from
principles of the highest truth and moment, which are confirmed by the
natural reason itself.
Now such a constitution of the State contains nothing that can be
thought either unworthy of the majesty of princes or unbecoming; and so
far is it from lessening its imperial rights, that it rather adds
stability and grandeur to them. For, if it be more deeply considered,
such a constitution has a great perfection which all others lack, and
from it various excellent fruits would accrue, if each party would only
keep its own place, and discharge with integrity that office and work to
which it was appointed. For in truth in this constitution of the State,
which we have above described, divine and human affairs are properly
divided; the rights of citizens are completely defended by divine,
natural, and human law; and the limitations of the several offices are
at once wisely laid down, and the keeping of them most opportunely
secured. All men know that in their doubtful and laborious journey to
the ever-lasting city they have at hand guides to teach them how to set
forth, helpers to show them how to reach their journey's end, whom they
may safely follow; and at the same time they know that they have others
whose business it is to take care of their security and their fortunes,
to obtain for them, or to secure to them, all those other goods which
are essential to the life of a community. Domestic society obtains that
firmness and solidity which it requires in the sanctity of marriage, one
and indissoluble; the rights and duties of husband and wife are ordered
with wise justice and equity; the due honor is secured to the woman; the
authority of the man is conformed to the example of the authority of
God; the authority of the father is tempered as becomes the dignity of
the wife and offspring, and the best possible provision is made for the
guardianship, the true good, and the education of the children.
In the domain of political and civil affairs the laws aim at the common
good, and are not guided by the deceptive wishes and judgments of the
multitude, but by truth and justice. The authority of the rulers puts on
a certain garb of sanctity greater than what pertains to man, and it is
restrained from declining from justice, and passing over just limits in
the exercise of power. The obedience of citizens has honor and dignity
as companions, because it is not the servitude of men to men, but
obedience to the will of God exercising His sovereignty by means of men.
And this being recognised and admitted, it is understood that it is a
matter of justice that the dignity of rulers should be respected, that
the public authority should be constantly and faithfully obeyed, that no
act of sedition should be committed, and that the civil order of the
State should be kept intact. In the same way mutual charity and kindness
and liberality are seen to be virtues. The man who is at once a citizen
and a Christian is no longer the victim of contending parties and
incompatible obligations; and, finally, those very abundant good things
with which the Christian religion of its own accord fills up even the
mortal life of men, are acquired for the community and civil society, so
that it appears to be said with the fullest truth: "The state of the
commonwealth depends on the religion with which God is worshipped, and
between the one and the other there is a close relation and connection."
(_Sacr. Imp. ad Cyrillum Alexandr, et Episcopus metrop. ef Labbeum
Collect Conc._, T. iii.) Admirably, as he is accustomed, did Augustine
in many places dilate on the power of those good things, but especially
when he addresses the Catholic Church in these words: "Thou treatest
boys as boys, youths with strength, old men calmly, according as is not
only the age of the body, but also of the mind of each. Women thou
subjectest to their husbands in chaste and faithful obedience, not for
the satisfaction of lust, but for the propagation of offspring, and
participation in the affairs of the family. Thou settest husbands over
their spouses, not that they may trifle with the weaker sex, but in
accordance with the laws of true affection. Thou subjectest sons to
their parents in a kind of free servitude, and settest parents over
their sons in a benignant rule.... Thou joinest together, not merely in
society, but in a kind of fraternity, citizens with citizens, peoples
with peoples, and in fact the whole race of men by a remembrance of
their parentage. Thou teachest kings to look for the interests of their
peoples. Thou admonishest peoples to submit themselves to their kings.
With all care thou teachest to whom honor is due, to whom affection, to
whom reverence, to whom fear, to whom consolation, to whom admonition,
to whom exhortation, to whom discipline, to whom reproach, to whom
punishment, showing how all of these are not suitable to all, but yet to
all affection is due, and wrong to none." (_De Moribus Eccl. Cath._,
cap. xxx., n. 63.) And in another place, speaking in blame of certain
political pseudo-philosophers, he observes: "They who say that the
doctrine of Christ is hurtful to the State, should produce an army of
soldiers such as the doctrine of Christ has commanded them to be, such
governors of provinces, such husbands, such wives, such parents, such
sons, such masters, such slaves, such kings, such judges, and such
payers and collectors of taxes due, such as the Christian doctrine would
have them. And then let them dare to say that such a state of things is
hurtful to the State. Nay, rather they could not hesitate to confess
that it is a great salvation to the State if there is due obedience to
this doctrine." (_Epist._ cxxxviii., al. 5, _ad Marcellinum_, cap. ii.,
15.)
There was once a time when the philosophy of the Gospel governed States;
then it was that that power and divine virtue of Christian wisdom had
penetrated into the laws, institutions and manners of peoples--indeed
into all the ranks and relations of the State; when the religion
instituted by Jesus Christ, firmly established in that degree of dignity
which was befitting, flourished everywhere, in the favor of rulers and
under the due protection of magistrates; when the priesthood and the
government were united by concord and a friendly interchange of offices.
And the State composed in that fashion produced, in the opinion of all,
more excellent fruits, the memory of which still flourishes, and will
flourish, attested by innumerable monuments which can neither be
destroyed nor obscured by any art of the adversary. If Christian Europe
subdued barbarous peoples, and transferred them from a savage to a
civilized state, from superstition to the truth; if she victoriously
repelled the invasions of the Mohammedans; if civilization retained the
chief power, and accustomed herself to afford others a leader and
mistress in everything that adorns humanity; if she has granted to the
peoples true and manifold liberty; if she has most wisely established
many institutions for the solace of wretchedness, beyond controversy is
it very greatly due to religion under whose auspices such great
undertakings were commenced, and with whose aid they were perfected.
Truly the same excellent state of things would have continued, if the
agreement of the two powers had continued, and greater things might
rightfully have been expected, if there had been obedience to the
authority, the sway, the counsels of the Church, characterized by
greater faithfulness and perseverance, for that is to be regarded as a
perpetual law which Ivo of Chartres wrote to Pope Paschal II.: "When the
kingdom and the priesthood are agreed between themselves, the world is
well ruled, the Church flourishes and bears fruit. But when they are at
variance, not only does what is little not increase, but even what is
great falls into miserable decay." (_Ep._ ccxxxviiii.)
But that dreadful and deplorable zeal for revolution which was aroused
in the sixteenth century, after the Christian religion had been thrown
into confusion, by a certain natural course proceeded to philosophy, and
from philosophy pervaded all ranks of the community. As it were, from
this spring came those more recent propositions of unbridled liberty
which obviously were first thought out and then openly proclaimed in the
terrible disturbances in the present century; and thence came the
principles and foundations of the new law, which was unknown before, and
is out of harmony, not only with Christian, but, in more than one
respect, with natural law. Of those principles the chief is that one
which proclaims that all men, as by birth and nature they are alike, so
in very deed in their actions of life are they equal and each is so
master of himself that in no way does he come under the authority of
another; that it is for him freely to think on whatever subject he
likes, to act as he pleases; that no one else has a right of ruling over
others. In a society founded upon these principles, government is only
the will of the people, which as it is under the power of itself alone,
so is alone its own proper sovereign. Moreover, it chooses to whom it
may entrust itself, but in such a way that it transfers, not so much the
right, as the function of the government which is to be exercised in its
name. God is passed over in silence, as if either there were no God, or
as if He cared nothing for human society, or as if men, whether as
individuals or in society, owed nothing to God, or as if there could be
any government of which the whole cause and power and authority did not
reside in God Himself. In which way, as is seen, a State is nothing else
but a multitude, as the mistress and governor of itself. And since the
people is said to contain in itself the fountain of all rights and of
all power, it will follow that the State deems itself bound by no kind
of duty towards God; that no religion should be publicly professed; nor
ought there to be any inquiry which of many is alone true; nor ought one
to be preferred to the rest; nor ought one to be specially favored, but
to each alike equal rights ought to be assigned, with the sole end that
the social order incurs no injury from them. It is a part of this theory
that all questions concerning religion are to be referred to private
judgment; that to every one it is allowed to follow which he prefers, or
none at all, if he approves of none. Hence these consequences naturally
arise; the judgment of each conscience is without regard to law;
opinions as free as possible are expressed concerning worshipping or not
worshipping God; and there is unbounded license of thinking and
publishing.
These foundations of the State being admitted, which at the time are in
such general favor, it easily appears into how unfavorable a position
the Church is driven. For when the conduct of affairs is in accordance
with the doctrines of this kind, to the Catholic name is assigned an
equal position with, or even an inferior position to that of alien
societies in the State; no regard is paid to ecclesiastical laws; and
the Church, which, by the command and mandate of Jesus Christ, ought to
teach all nations, finds itself forbidden in any way to interfere in the
instruction of the people. Concerning those things which are of mixed
jurisdiction, the rulers of the civil power lay down the law at their
own pleasure, and in this manner haughtily set aside the most sacred
laws of the Church. Wherefore they bring under their own jurisdiction
the marriages of Christians, deciding even concerning the marriage bond,
concerning the unity, and the stability of marriage. They take
possession of the goods of the clergy because they deny that the Church
can hold property. Finally, they so act with regard to the Church that
both the nature and the rights of a perfect society being removed, they
clearly hold it to be like the other associations which the State
contains, and on that account, if she possesses any legitimate means of
acting, she is said to possess that by the concession and gift of the
rulers of the State. But if in any State the Church retains her own
right, with the approval of the civil laws, and any agreement is
publicly made between the two powers, in the beginning they cry out that
the interests of the Church must be severed from those of the State, and
they do this with the intent that it may be possible to act against
their pledged faith with impunity, and to have the final decision over
everything, all obstacles having been removed. But when the Church
cannot bear that patiently, nor indeed is able to desert its greatest
and most sacred duties, and, above all, requires that faith be wholly
and entirely observed with it, contests often arise between the sacred
and the civil power, of which the result is commonly that the one who is
the weaker yields to the stronger in human resources. So it is the
custom and the wish in this state of public affairs, which is now
affected by many, either to expel the Church altogether, or to keep it
bound and restricted as to its rule. Public acts in a great measure are
framed with this design. Laws, the administration of States, the
teaching of youth unaccompanied by religion, the spoliation and
destruction of religious orders, the overturning of the civil
principality of the Roman Pontiffs, all have regard to this end; to
emasculate Christian institutes, to narrow the liberty of the Catholic
Church, and to diminish her other rights.
Natural reason itself convinces us that such opinions about the ruling
of a State are very widely removed from the truth. Nature herself bears
witness that all power of whatever kind ultimately emanates from God,
that greatest and most august fountain. Popular rule, however, which
without any regard to God is said to be naturally in the multitude,
though it may excellently avail to supply the fires of many
blandishments and excitements of many forms of covetousness, yet rests
on no probable reason, nor can have sufficient strength to ensure public
security and the quiet permanence of order. Verily things under the
auspices of these doctrines have come to such a pass that many sanction
this as a law in civil jurisprudence, to wit, that sedition may rightly
be raised. For the idea prevails that princes are really nothing but
delegates to express the popular will; and so necessarily all things
become alike, are changeable at the popular nod, and a certain fear of
public disturbance is forever hanging over our heads.
But to think with regard to religion, that there is no difference
between unlike and contrary forms, clearly will have this issue--an
unwillingness to test any one form in theory and practice. And this, if
indeed it differs from atheism in name, is in fact the same thing. Men
who really believe in the existence of God, if they are to be consistent
and not ridiculous, will, of necessity, understand that the different
methods of divine worship involving dissimilarity and conflict, even on
the most important points, cannot be all equally probable, equally good,
and equally accepted by God. And thus that faculty of thinking whatever
you like and expressing whatever you like to think in writing, without
any thought of moderation, is not of its own nature, indeed, a good in
which human society may rightly rejoice, but, on the contrary, a fount
and origin of many ills.
Liberty, in so far as it is a virtue perfecting man, should be occupied
with that which is true and that which is good; but the foundation of
that which is true and that which is good cannot be changed at the
pleasure of man, but remains ever the same, nor indeed is it less
unchangeable than nature herself. If the mind assent to false opinions,
if the will choose for itself evil, and apply itself thereto, neither
attains its perfection, but both fall from their natural dignity, and
both lapse by degrees into corruption. Whatever things, therefore, are
contrary to virtue and truth, these things it is not right to place in
the light before the eyes of men, far less to defend by the favor and
tutelage of the laws. A well-spent life is the only path to that heaven
whither we all direct our steps; and on this account the State departs
from the law and custom of nature if it allows the license of opinions
and of deeds to run riot to such a degree as to lead minds astray with
impunity from the truth, and hearts from the practice of virtue.
But to exclude the Church which God Himself has constituted from the
business of life, from the laws, from the teaching of youth, from
domestic society, is a great and pernicious error. A well-regulated
State cannot be when religion is taken away; more than needs be,
perhaps, is now known of what sort of a thing is in itself, and whither
tends that philosophy of life and morals which men call _civil_. The
Church of Christ is the true teacher of virtue and guardian of morals;
it is that which keeps principles in safety, from which duties are
derived, and by proposing most efficacious reasons for an honest life,
it bids us not only fly from wicked deeds, but rule the motions of the
mind which are contrary to reason when it is not intended to reduce them
to action. But to wish the Church in the discharge of its offices to be
subject to the civil power is a great rashness, a great injustice. If
this were done order would be disturbed, since things natural would thus
be put before those which are above nature; the multitude of the good
whose common life, if there be nothing to hinder it, the Church would
make complete, either disappears or at all events is considerably
diminished, and besides, a way is opened to enmities and conflicts--how
great the evil which they bring upon each order of government the event
has too frequently shown.
Such doctrines are not approved by human reason, and are of the greatest
gravity as regards civil discipline, the Roman Pontiffs our
predecessors--well understanding what the apostolic office required of
them--by no means suffered to go forth without condemnation. Thus
Gregory XVI., by Encyclical Letter, beginning _Mirare vos_, of August
15, 1832, inveighed with weighty words against those doctrines which
were already being preached, namely, that in divine worship no choice
should be made; and that it was right for individuals to judge of
religion according to their personal preferences, that each man's
conscience was to himself his sole sufficient guide, and that it was
lawful to promulgate whatsoever each man might think, and so make a
revolution in the State. Concerning the reasons for the separation of
Church and State, the same Pontiff speaks thus: "Nor can we hope happier
results either for religion or the government, from the wishes of those
who are eagerly desirous that the Church should be separated from the
State, and the mutual good understanding of the sovereign secular power
and the sacerdotal authority be broken up. It is evident that these
lovers of most shameless liberty dread that concord which has always
been fortunate and wholesome, both for sacred and civil interests." To
the like effect Pius IX., as opportunity offered, noted many false
opinions which had begun to be of great strength, and afterward ordered
them to be collected together in order that in so great a conflux of
errors Catholics might have something which, without stumbling, they
might follow.
From these decisions of the Popes it is clearly to be understood that
the origin of public power is to be sought from God Himself and not from
the multitude; that the free play for sedition is repugnant to reason;
that it is a crime for private individuals and a crime for States to
observe nowhere the duties of religion or to treat in the same way
different kinds of religion; that the uncontrolled right of thinking and
publicly proclaiming one's thoughts is not inherent in the rights of
citizens, nor in any sense to be placed among those things which are
worthy of favor or patronage. Similarly it ought to be understood that
the Church is a society, no less than the State itself, perfect in kind
and right, and that those who exercise sovereignty ought not to act so
as to compel the Church to become subservient or inferior to themselves,
or suffer her to be less free to transact her own affairs or detract
aught from the other rights which have been conferred upon her by Jesus
Christ. But in matters however in complex jurisdiction, it is in the
highest degree in accordance with nature and also with the counsels of
God--not that one power should secede from the other, still less come
into conflict, but that that harmony and concord should be preserved
which is most akin to the foundations of both societies.
These, then, are the things taught by the Catholic Church concerning the
constitution and government of the State. Concerning these sayings and
decrees, if a man will only judge dispassionately, no form of Government
is, _per se_, condemned as long as it has nothing repugnant to Catholic
doctrine, and is able, if wisely and justly managed, to preserve the
State in the best condition. Nor is it, _per se_, to be condemned
whether the people have a greater or less share in the government; for
at certain times and with the guarantee of certain laws, such
participation may appertain, not only to the usefulness, but even to the
duty of the citizens. Moreover, there is no just cause that any one
should condemn the Church as being too restricted in gentleness, or
inimical to that liberty which is natural and legitimate. In truth the
Church judges it not lawful that the various kinds of Divine worship
should have the same right as the true religion, still it does not
therefore condemn those governors of States, who, for the sake of
acquiring some great good, or preventing some great ill, patiently bear
with manners and customs so that each kind of religion has its place in
the State. Indeed the Church is wont diligently to take heed that no one
be compelled against his will to embrace the Catholic Faith, for as
Augustine wisely observes: "_Credere non potest homo nisi volens._"
(_Tract._ xxvi., _in Joan._, n. 2.)
For a similar reason the Church cannot approve of that liberty which
generates a contempt of the most sacred laws of God, and puts away the
obedience due to legitimate power. For this is license rather than
liberty, and is most correctly called by Augustine, "_libertas
perditionis_" (_Ep._ cv., _ad Donatistas._ ii., n. 9); by the Apostle
Peter, "_a cloak for malice_" (1 Peter ii. 16), indeed, since it is
contrary to reason, it is a true servitude, for "_Whosoever committeth
sin is the servant of sin._" (John viii. 34.) On the other hand, that
liberty is natural and to be sought, which, if it be considered in
relation to the individual, suffers not men to be the slaves of errors
and evil desires, the worst of masters; if, in relation to the State, it
presides wisely over the citizens, serves the faculty of augmenting
public advantages, and defends the public interest from alien rule, this
blameless liberty worthy of man the Church approves, above all, and has
never ceased striving and contending to keep firm and whole among the
people. In very truth, whatever things in the State chiefly avail for
the common safety; whatever have been usefully instituted against the
license of princes, consulting all the interests of the people; whatever
forbid the governing authority to invade into municipal or domestic
affairs; whatever avail to preserve the dignity and the character of man
in preserving the equality of rights in individual citizens, of all
these things the monuments of former ages witness the Catholic Church to
have always been either the author, the promoter, or the guardian.
Ever, therefore, consistent with herself, if on the one hand she rejects
immoderate liberty, which both in the case of individuals and peoples
results in license or in servitude; on the other she willingly and with
pleasure embraces those happier circumstances which the age brings; if
they truly contain the prosperity of this life, which is as it were a
stage in the journey to that other which is to endure everlastingly.
Therefore what they say that the Church is jealous of, the more modern
political systems repudiate in a mass, and whatever the disposition of
these times has brought forth, is an inane and contemptible calumny. The
madness of opinion it indeed repudiates; it reproves the wicked plans of
sedition, and especially that habit of mind in which the beginnings of a
voluntary departing from God are visible; but since every true thing
must necessarily proceed from God, whatever of truth is by search
attained, the Church acknowledges as a certain token of the Divine mind.
And since there is in the world nothing which can take away belief in
the doctrines divinely handed down and many things which confirm this,
and since every finding of truth may impel man to the knowledge or
praise of God Himself, therefore whatever may happen to extend the range
of knowledge, the Church will always willingly and joyfully accept; and
she will, as is her wont in the case of other departments of knowledge,
studiously encourage and promote those also which are concerned with the
investigation of nature. In which studies, if the mind finds anything
new, the Church is not in opposition; she fights not against the search
after more things for the grace and convenience of life--nay, a very foe
to inertness and sloth, she earnestly wishes that the talents of men
should, by being cultivated and exercised, bear still richer fruits; she
affords incitements to every sort of art and craft, and by her own
virtue directing by her own perfection all the pursuits of those things
to virtue and salvation, she strives to prevent man from turning aside
his intelligence and industry from God and heavenly things.
But these things, although full of reasonableness and foresight, are not
so well approved of at this time, when States not only refuse to refer
to the laws of Christian knowledge, but are seen even to wish to depart
each day farther from them. Nevertheless, because truth brought to light
is wont of its own accord to spread widely, and by degrees to pervade
the minds of men, we, therefore, moved by the consciousness of the
greatest, the most holy, that is the Apostolic obligation, which we owe
to all the nations, those things which are true, freely, as we ought, we
do speak, not that we have no perception of the spirit of the times, or
that we think the honest and useful improvements of our age are to be
repudiated, but because we would wish the highways of public affairs to
be safer from attacks, and their foundations more stable, and that
without detriment to the true freedom of the peoples; for amongst men
the mother and best guardian of liberty is truth: "_The truth shall make
you free._" (John viii. 32).
Therefore at so critical a juncture of events, Catholic men, if, as it
behooves them, they will listen to us, will easily see what are their
own and each other's duties in matters of _opinion_ as well as of
_action_. And in the formation of opinion, whatsoever things the Roman
Pontiffs have handed down, or shall hereafter hand down, each and every
one is it necessary to hold in firm judgment well understood, and as
often as occasion demands openly to declare. Now, especially concerning
those things which are called recently-acquired _liberties_, is it
proper to stand by the judgment of the Apostolic See, and for each one
to hold what she herself holds.
Take care lest some one be deceived by the honest outward appearance of
these things; and think of the beginnings from which they are sprung;
and by what desires they are sustained and fed in divers places. It is
now sufficiently known by experience of what things they are the causes
in the State; how indiscriminately they bring forth fruit, of which good
men and wise rightly do repent. If there should be in any place a State,
either actual or hypothetical, that wantonly and tyrannically wages war
upon the Christian name, and it have conferred upon it that character of
which we have spoken, it is possible that this may be considered more
tolerable; yet the principles upon which it rests are absolutely such
that, of themselves they ought to be approved by no man.
Now action may be taken in private and domestic affairs, or in affairs
public. In private life, indeed, the first duty is to conform one's life
and manners to the precepts of the Gospel, and not to refuse, if
Christian virtue demands, something more difficult to bear than usual.
Individuals, also, are bound to love the Church as their common mother;
to keep her laws obediently; to give her the service of due honor, and
to wish her rights respected, and to endeavor that she be fostered and
beloved with like piety by those over whom they may exercise authority.
It is also of great importance to the public welfare diligently and
wisely to give attention to the duties of citizenship; in this regard,
most particularly, with that concern which is righteous amongst
Christians, to take pains and pass effective measures so that public
provision be made for the instruction of youth in religion and true
morality, for upon these things depends very much the welfare of every
State. Besides, in general, it is useful and honorable to stretch the
attention of Catholic men beyond this narrower field, and to embrace
every branch of public administration. Generally, we say, because these
our precepts reach unto all nations. But it may happen in some
particular place, for the most urgent and just reasons, that it is by no
means expedient to engage in public affairs, or to take an active part
in political functions. But generally, as we have said, to wish to take
no part in public affairs would be in that degree vicious, in which it
brought to the common weal neither care, nor work; and on this account
the more so, because Catholic men are bound by the admonitions of the
doctrine which they profess, to do what has to be done with integrity
and with faith. If, on the contrary, they were idle, those whose
opinions do not, in truth, give any great hope of safety, would easily
get possession of the reins of government. This, also, would be attended
with danger to the Christian name, because they would become most
powerful who are badly disposed towards the Church; and those least
powerful who are well disposed. Wherefore, it is evident there is just
cause for Catholics to undertake the conduct of public affairs; for they
do not assume these responsibilities in order to approve of what is not
lawful in the methods of government at this time; but in order that they
may turn these very methods, as far as may be, to the unmixed and true
public good, holding this purpose in their minds, to infuse into all the
veins of the commonwealth the wisdom and virtue of the Catholic
religion--the most healthy sap and blood, as it were. It was scarcely
done otherwise in the first ages of the Church. For the manners and
desires of the heathen were divergent as widely as possible from the
manners and desires of the Gospel; for the Christians had to separate
themselves incorrupt in the midst of superstition, and always true to
themselves, most cheerfully to enter every walk in life which was open
to them. Models of fidelity to their princes, obedient, where lawful, to
the sovereign power, they established a wonderful splendor of holiness
everywhere; they sought the advantage of their neighbor, and to all
others to the wisdom of Christ; bravely prepared to retire from public
life, and even to die if they could not retain honors, nor the
magistracy, nor the supreme command with unsullied virtue. For which
reason Christian customs soon found their way, not only into private
houses, but into the camps, into the senate, even into the imperial
palace. "We are of yesterday and we fill your everything, cities,
islands, castles, municipalities, councils, the very camps, the rank and
file of the army, the officerships, the palace, the senate, the forum,"
(_Tertullian Apol._, n. 37), so that the Christian faith, when it was
unlawful publicly to profess the Gospel, was not like a child crying in
his cradle, but grown up and already sufficiently firm, was manifest in
a great part of the State.
Now, indeed, in these days it is as well to renew these examples of our
forefathers. For Catholics indeed, as many as are worthy of the name,
before all things it is necessary to be, and to be willing to be,
regarded as most loving sons of the Church; whatsoever is inconsistent
with this good report, without hesitation to reject; to use popular
institutions as far as honestly can be to the advantage of truth and
justice; to labor, that liberty of action shall not transgress the
bounds ordained by the law of nature and of God; so to work that the
whole of public life shall be transformed into that, as we have called
it, a Christian image and likeness. The means to seek these ends can
scarcely be laid down upon one uniform plan, since they must suit places
and times very different from each other. Nevertheless, in the first
place, let concord of wills be preserved, and a likeness of things to be
done sought for. And each will be attained the best, if all shall
consider the admonitions of the Apostolic See, a law of conduct, and
shall obey the Bishops whom "_the Spirit of God has placed to rule the
Church of God_." (Acts xx. 28). The defence of the Catholic name, indeed
of necessity demands that in the profession of doctrines which are
handed down by the Church the opinion of all shall be one, and the most
perfect constancy, and from this point of view take care that no one
connives in any degree at false opinions, or resists with greater
gentleness than truth will allow. Concerning those things which are
matters of opinion, it will be lawful, with moderation and with a desire
of investigating the truth, without injurious suspicions and mutual
incriminations. For which purpose, lest the agreement of minds be broken
by temerity of accusation, let all understand: that the integrity of the
Catholic profession can by no means be reconciled with opinions
approaching towards _naturalism_ or _rationalism_, of which the sum
total is to uproot Christian institutions altogether, and to establish
the supremacy of man, Almighty God being pushed to one side. Likewise,
it is unlawful to follow one line of duty in private and another in
public, so that the authority of the Church shall be observed in
private, and spurned in public. For this would be to join together
things honest and disgraceful, and to make a man fight a battle with
himself, when, on the contrary, he ought always to be consistent with
himself, and never, in any the least thing or manner of living, decline
from Christian virtue. But, if inquiry is made about principles, merely
political, concerning the best form of government, of civil regulations
of one kind or another, concerning these things, of course, there is
room for disagreement without harm. Those whose piety, therefore, is
known on other accounts, and whose minds are ready to accept the decrees
of the Apostolic See, justice will not allow accounted evil because they
differ on these subjects; and much greater is the injury if they are
charged with the crime of having violated the Catholic faith, or are
suspected, a thing we deplore done, not once only. And let all hold this
precept absolutely, who are wont to commit their thoughts to writing,
especially the editors of newspapers. In this contention about the
highest things, nothing is to be left to intestine conflicts, or the
greed of parties, but let all, uniting together, seek the common object
of all, to preserve religion and the State.
If, therefore, there have been dissensions, it is right to obliterate
them in a certain voluntary forgetfulness; if there has been anything
rash, anything injurious, to whomsoever this fault belongs let
compensation be made by mutual charity, and especially in obedience to
the Apostolic See. In this way Catholics will obtain two things most
excellent; one that they will make themselves helps to the Church in
preserving and propagating Christian knowledge; the other that they will
benefit civil society; of which the safety is gravely compromised by
reason of evil doctrines and inordinate desires.
These things, therefore, Venerable Brethren, concerning the Christian
constitution of States and the duties of individual citizens, we have
dwelt upon; we shall transmit them to all the nations of the Catholic
world.
But it behooves us to implore, with most earnest prayers, the heavenly
protection, and to beg of Almighty God these things which we desire and
strive after for His glory and the salvation of the human race, whose
alone it is to illumine the minds and to quicken the wills of men and
Himself to lead on to the wished for end. As a pledge of the Divine
favors, and in witness of our paternal benevolence to you, Venerable
Brethren, to the Clergy, and to all the people committed to your faith
and vigilance, we lovingly bestow in the Lord the Apostolic Benediction.
Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the first day of November, in the year
of Our Lord MDCCCLXXXV., of Our Pontificate the Eighth.
LEO PP. XIII.
* * * * *
VENERABLE BEDE records: "It was customary for the English of all ranks
to retire for study and devotion to Ireland, where they were hospitably
received, and supplied gratuitously with food, books and instruction."
His Eminence John Cardinal McCloskey.
ARCHBISHOP OF NEW YORK, CARDINAL PRIEST OF THE TITLE OF SANCTA MARIA
SUPRA MINERVAM.
The waning days of the year 1885 witnessed the peaceful decline, and the
happy Christian death, of one of the most remarkable men of the Irish
race in this country. His glorious obsequies in the magnificent
Cathedral which he completed and dedicated, produced a deep impression
on all classes, nor was there ever witnessed a greater and more
unanimous concord than pervaded the tributes of respect from the press
and pulpit of the land to this prince of the Catholic Church.
In a modest dwelling on Fort Greene, Brooklyn, fronting the road that
led to Newtown Turnpike, John McCloskey was born on the 10th of March,
1810, while deep snow covered the fields far and wide, and ice choked
the rapid current of the East River. His father, George McCloskey, had
emigrated to this country from the county Derry, some years before, with
his wife, and by industry, thrift and uprightness was increasing the
little store of means which he had brought to the New World. The boy was
not endowed with a rugged frame, and few could promise either mother or
child length of days. Yet she lived to behold him a bishop.
Brooklyn was then but a suburb of the little city of New York; it did
not number five thousand inhabitants, and the scanty flock of Catholics
had neither priest nor shrine. The child of George McCloskey, was taken
to St. Peter's Church, New York, to be baptized, by the venerable Jesuit
Father Anthony Kohlmann. As he grew up he crossed the East River on
Sundays with his parents to attend that same church, then the only one
in New York; it has just celebrated the centenary of its organization,
as a congregation, and the life of the great Cardinal, which faded away
just before that event, covers three quarters of its century.
George McCloskey was one of the few energetic Catholics, who, about
1820, started the movement which led to the erection of St. James on Jay
Street, and gave Brooklyn its first Catholic Church and future
Cathedral. Meanwhile, his son carefully trained at home, was sent to
school at an early age; gentle and delicate, he had neither strength nor
inclination for the rough sports of his schoolmates; but was always
cheerful and popular, studying hard and winning a high grade in his
classes. Till the church in Brooklyn was built, the boy and his mother
made their way each Sunday to the riverside to cross by the only
conveyance of those days, in order to occupy the pew which the
large-hearted George McCloskey had purchased in St. Peter's, for in
those days pews were sold and a yearly ground rent paid. When St.
Patrick's was opened, an appeal was made to the liberal to take pews in
that church also, and again the generous George McCloskey responded to
the call, purchasing a pew there also.
This whole-souled Irish-Catholic built great hopes on the talents of his
son, and intended to send him to Georgetown College, of which Father
Benedict Fenwick, long connected with St. Peter's, had become president.
But in the providence of God he was not to see him enter any college;
while still in the prime of life, he was seized with illness, which
carried him to the grave in 1820. Mrs. McCloskey was left with means
which enabled her to carry out the plans of her husband; but as Father
Fenwick had left Georgetown, she acted on the advice of friends, and
sent her son to the College of Mount St. Mary's, which had been founded
near Emmittsburg, by the Rev. John Du Bois, a French priest, who,
escaping the horrors of the Revolution in his own country, and the
sanguinary tribunals of his old schoolmate, Robespierre, had crossed the
Atlantic to be a missionary in America.
Mount St. Mary's College, when young McCloskey entered it after the
summer of 1821, consisted of two rows of log buildings; "but such as
have often been in this country, the first home of men and institutions
destined to greatness and renown." Humble as it was externally, however,
the college was no longer an experiment; it had proved its efficiency as
an institution of learning. Young McCloskey entered on his studies with
his wonted zeal and energy, and learned not only the classics of ancient
and modern times, but the great lesson of self-control. Blessed with a
wonderfully retentive memory, a logical mind that proceeded slowly, not
by impulse, his progress was solid and rapid; his progress in virtue was
no less so; every natural tendency to harsh and bitter judgment, or
word, was by the principles of religion and faith checked and brought
under control. If, in after life, he was regarded universally as mild
and gentle, the credit must be given to his religious training, which
enabled him to achieve the conquest.
A fine stone college was rising, and with his fellow-students he looked
forward with sanguine hope to the rapidly approaching day, when the
collegians of Mount St. Mary's were to tread halls worthy of their _Alma
Mater_, their faculty and themselves. Its progress was watched with deep
interest, when, in the summer of 1824, the students were roused one
Sunday night by the cry of fire. An incendiary hand had applied the
torch to the new edifice. No appliances were at hand for checking the
progress of the flames; professors, seminarians, and collegians labored
unremittingly to save their humble log structures destined to be for
some time more the scene of their studious hours.
McCloskey joined in the address of sympathy which the pupils of Mount
St. Mary's tendered to their venerated president. He beheld the energy
and faith of that eminent man in the zeal with which he began the work
anew, and completed the building again before the close of another year.
Thus the talented young Catholic boy from New York State learned not
only the lore found in books, but the great lessons of patience,
self-control, correspondence to the will of God. Before he closed his
college course, he saw Dr. Du Bois, called away from the institution he
had founded to assume, by command of the successor of St. Peter, the
administration of the diocese of New York. The good work continued under
Rev. Michael De Burgo Egan as President, and John McCloskey was
graduated, in 1828, with high honors. At that time Mount St. Mary's had
in the seminary twenty-five or thirty aspirants to the priesthood, and
in the college nearly one hundred students. The early graduates of the
Mount are the best proof of the thorough literary course followed there,
as well as the thorough knowledge and love of the faith inculcated.
Young McCloskey returned to the home of his mother in Westchester
County, N. Y., and looked forward to his future career in life. As often
happens, a family bias, or wish, rather than the judgment of the young
man himself, induces the first step. John McCloskey was to become a
lawyer. We are told that he began the study of Coke and Blackstone, of
the principles of law and the practice of the courts, in the office of
Joseph W. Smith, Esq., of New York. But the active mind was at work
solving a great problem. A fellow-student at college, his senior in
years, brilliant, poetic, zealous, had resolved to devote his life and
talents to the ministry, and had more than once portrayed to young
McCloskey the heroism of the priestly life of self-devotion and
sacrifice. The words of Charles C. Pise and his example had produced an
impression greater than was apparent. McCloskey meditated, prayed and
sought the guidance of a wise director. Gradually the conviction became
deep and firm that God called him to the ecclesiastical state. He closed
the books of human law, renounced the prospects of worldly success, and
resolved to prepare by study and seclusion, by prayer and self-mastery,
for the awful dignity of the priesthood.
The next year he returned to Emmittsburg to enter the seminary as a
candidate for holy orders from the diocese of New York. He was welcomed
as one whose solid learning, brilliant eloquence, deep and tender piety,
studious habits and zeal made it certain that he must as a priest render
essential service to the Church in this country. As a seminarian, and,
in conjunction with that character, as professor, he confirmed the high
opinion formed of him, and at an early day Bishop Du Bois fixed upon him
as one to fill important positions in his diocese.
From the moment that he took possession of his See the Rt. Rev. Dr. Du
Bois had labored to give New York an institution like that which he had
brought to so successful a condition in Maryland, reckoning as nought
the advance of years and the heavy duties of the episcopate. It was not
till the spring of 1832, that he was able to purchase a farm at Nyack,
in Rockland County, as the site for his seminary and college. To preside
over it, he had already selected his seminarian, John McCloskey, whom he
summoned from Emmittsburg. The visitation of the cholera, however,
prevented the progress of the undertaking, although the school was
opened. The corner-stone was laid on the 29th of May, 1833, and the
erection of the main building was carried on till the second story was
completed, when the bishop appealed to his flock to aid him by their
contributions.
On the 24th of January the old Cathedral in New York witnessed the
solemn ceremony of an ordination, and the Rev. John McCloskey was raised
to the dignity of the priesthood. The young priest was stationed at
Nyack; but his eloquent voice was heard and appreciated in the churches
of New York City. The first sermon which the young priest preached after
his ordination is an index of the piety and devotion which guided him
through life. It was on devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and was
delivered in the church reared in New York in honor of the Mother of
God.
In the summer of 1834, the little chapel at Nyack, adjoining the rising
college, was ready for dedication; but before the institution could be
opened, the virulent declamations of a Brownell had inflamed the minds
of the ignorant peasantry in that neighborhood with religious hatred,
and the college was denounced as an evil to be prevented. The torch of
the incendiary soon laid the edifice in ashes.
The project of a seminary and college was thus indefinitely deferred,
although Bishop Du Bois, with characteristic determination, resolved to
rebuild the blackened ruins and raise the college anew. So confident was
he of success, that he would not appoint Rev. Mr. McCloskey to any
parochial charge, reserving him to preside over the diocesan institution
on which he had set his heart. In order to fit himself for the position,
the young priest begged his bishop to permit him to proceed to Rome in
order to follow for two years the thorough course of theological studies
in the Gregorian University, thus profitably employing the time that
would necessarily be required to fit the institution for the reception
of pupils.
As Bishop Du Bois saw the wisdom of the suggestion, he consented, and
early in 1835 Rev. John McCloskey reached the Eternal City, and enrolled
himself among the distinguished pupils like Grazrosi, Perrone, Palma,
Finucci, who were then attending the lectures of Perrone, Manera, and
their associate professors. One who knew Rome well, and knew the late
Cardinal well, wrote: "What advantage the young American priest drew
from them has ever since been seen in the remarkable breadth and
correctness and lucidity of his decisions in theological matters,
whether coming before him in his episcopal duties, or brought up for
discussion in the episcopal councils which he has attended. His words,
calm and well considered, have ever been listened to with attention, and
generally decided the question. But, beyond the mere book learning, so
to speak, of ecclesiastical education, he gained a knowledge of the
ecclesiastical world, nowhere else attainable than in Rome. Brought in
contact with the students of the English College, under Dr. (afterwards
Cardinal) Wiseman, of the Irish College under Dr. (afterwards Cardinal)
Cullen, of the Propaganda under Monsignor (afterwards Cardinal) Count de
Reisach, of the Roman Seminary, and of other colleges, he came to know
many brilliant young students of various nationalities, alike in faith
and in fervent piety, yet dissimilar in the peculiar traits of their
respective races. He formed friendship with many who have since made
their mark in their own countries. The young American priest, so
polished and gentlemanly in his address, so modest and retiring, and yet
so full of varied learning, so keen of observation, and so ready, when
drawn out, with unexpected and plain, common-sense, home thrusts, was
fully appreciated among kindred minds of the clergy of Rome, and of
other countries visiting Rome. Though avoiding society as far as he
could, and something of a recluse, he was welcome in more than one noble
Roman palace. But it was especially in the English-speaking circle of
Catholic visitors each winter to Rome, that he was prized. Cardinal
Weld, ever an upholder of Americans, anticipated great things yet to be
done by this young priest, and loved to present him to the Cliffords,
the Shrewsburys, and other noble English-speaking Catholics, as a living
refutation of the accounts of Americans and American manners, just given
to the English world by Mrs. Trollope."
Among this English-speaking colony in Rome he found abundant occasion
for the exercise of his ministry, such was the confidence inspired by
his piety and learning. Among those placed under his direction was Mrs.
Connolly, an American convert, who, in time, founded in England a
teaching community of high order, the Sisters of the Holy Child Jesus,
which has now many houses in England and the United States.
At the expiration of the time assigned for his studious sojourn in Rome,
Rev. Mr. McCloskey left the Eternal City, well fitted, indeed, to assume
the directorship of the seminary. He travelled with observant eye
through Northern Italy, Austria, Germany and France, then crossed to the
British Isles, visiting England and Scotland. His tour enabled him to
meet old friends and to win new ones; as well as to learn practically
the condition of the church in all parts of Europe.
When he returned to New York in 1838 he found that Bishop Du Bois had,
overcome by difficulties and trials, finally abandoned his projected
seminary; and now desired to assign him to parochial work. With the
well-trained priest to hear was to obey. Yet the position of the bishop
was one of difficulty. An uncatholic national feeling had been aroused
some years before in New York, assuming under Bishop Connolly all
obsequiousness to that prelate and zeal for his honor; under Bishop Du
Bois its whole power was wielded against him; and as few of the leaders
in the movement were practical Catholics, appeals to their religious
sense fell unheeded.
The parish offered to Rev. Mr. McCloskey presented difficulties of its
own. The last pastor, his old friend and brother-collegian, Rev. Charles
C. Pise, had indiscreetly aroused a deep and bitter feeling against
himself, and the hostile party in the congregation was led by a man of
learning and real attachment to his religion, though of little
self-control. For the Rev. Mr. McCloskey to assume the pastorship of St.
Joseph's required no little courage. He was as obnoxious on some grounds
as his predecessor, being like him American by birth, trained at
Emmittsburg under Bishop Du Bois. In this conjuncture the Rev. John
McCloskey displayed what must be recognized as the striking virtue of
his character, the highest degree of Christian prudence, and with it and
through it, courage, firmness and self-control. He repaired to the post
assigned to him by his bishop, and entered upon the discharge of his
duties. The Trustees ignored his appointment utterly, made no
appropriation for his salary, took no steps to furnish his house, so
that he had not even a table to write upon. "But," as His Grace
Archbishop Corrigan well says, "the young priest was equal to the
emergency. He discharged his duties as sweetly, as if there never had
been a suspicion of dissatisfaction; he prepared his sermons as
carefully, as if the best audience New York could afford were there to
listen." His parish extended up to the line of Harlem; but he complained
neither of his treatment, nor of the labor of the day and the heat; and
men ready and anxious to complain, found that they had to do with a
priest who gave them not a tittle to bear before the people as a
grievance to complain about. The clouds vanished so completely that the
people forgot there had ever been any. In a few years one of those who
had received him with the greatest distrust, had grown to appreciate him
so highly as to address him as a priest "whose unaffected piety as a
Christian Divine, splendid talents as an effective preacher, extensive
acquirements as an elegant scholar, and dignified, yet amiable, manners
as an accomplished gentleman, have long been the admiration, the
ornament and the model of his devoted flock."
The project for which Bishop Du Bois had summoned his young seminarian
from the Mount was at last carried out in 1841 by the vigorous head and
hand of Bishop Hughes. The diocese of New York had its Seminary and
College at Fordham. It was a remarkable tribute to the merit and ability
of the Rev. John McCloskey, that Bishop Hughes, though the diocese had
been joined by many able and learned priests, still turned to him to
fill the post for which Bishop Du Bois had selected him when but a
seminarian. Yet he was now a parish priest, and the tie between him and
his flock had grown so close that both feared that it might be sundered.
He undertook the organization of the Seminary and College, retaining his
pastoral charge to the consolation of his flock. The result justified
the selection. His power of organization, his knowledge of the wants of
the times, of the duties of teacher and pupil, were thorough. The
institution was soon in successful operation, and the seminarians were
edified by the piety, regularity and unalterable calmness of the
Superior, who was always with them at their morning meditation, and
always with them at exercises of devotion, his perfect order and system
preventing all confusion, foreseeing and providing for all.
After placing the new institutions on a firm basis, he resigned the
presidency to other hands, and resumed his duties at St. Joseph, to the
delight of his flock. It was, however, really because Bishop Hughes
already determined to solicit his elevation to the episcopate, that he
might enjoy his aid as coadjutor in directing the affairs of the
diocese, which were becoming beyond the power of one man to discharge.
In the Fifth Provincial Council, of Baltimore, held in May, 1843, Bishop
Hughes laid his wishes before the assembled Fathers, and the appointment
of Rev. John McCloskey, as coadjutor of New York, was formally solicited
from the Sovereign Pontiff by the Metropolitan of Baltimore and his
suffragans. At Rome there was no hesitation in confirming the choice of
a clergyman whose merit was so well known, and on the 30th of September,
Cardinal Fransoni wrote announcing that the Rev. John McCloskey had been
elected by the Holy Father for the See of Axiere, and made coadjutor to
the Bishop of New York.
The consecration took place in old St. Patrick's Cathedral on the 10th
of March, 1844, and the scene was the grandest ever till then witnessed
in New York, The Rt. Rev. John Hughes, Bishop of New York, assisted by
Bishop Fenwick, of New York, once administrator of the diocese, and
Bishop Whelan, of Wheeling, consecrated three bishops, the Rt. Rev.
Andrew Byrne, Bishop of Little Rock, the Rt. Rev. William Quarter,
Bishop of Chicago, and the Rt. Rev. John McCloskey, Bishop of Axiere,
and coadjutor of New York.
From the pulpit of the Cathedral, the venerable Dr. Power, addressing
the newly consecrated coadjutor, said: "One of you I have known from his
boyhood. I have seen the youthful bud of genius unfold itself; and I
have seen it also in full expansion; and I thank God I have been spared
to behold it now blessing the house of the Lord. Rt. Rev. Dr. McCloskey!
it must be gratifying to you to know, that if the choice of a coadjutor
of this diocese had been given to your fellow-laborers in the vineyard,
it would certainly have fallen upon you."
It was surely no ordinary merit, that won the Rev. John McCloskey such
universal esteem. To have been chosen for the same responsible post by
men so different in mind and feelings as Bishops Du Bois and Hughes, to
be at once the choice of Bishop Hughes and a body of priests among whom
great divisions had existed, and great differences of nationality,
education and inclination prevailed, was something wonderful and
unparalleled.
His elevation to the episcopate did not withdraw Bishop McCloskey from
the church of his affection, that dedicated to the Spouse of Mary. Here
his throne was erected, and the congregation rejoiced in the honor and
dignity conferred upon him, and through him on their church. He then
began the discharge of the episcopal duties devolved upon him by the Rt.
Rev. Bishop of the See. The earliest was the dedication of the Church of
the Most Holy Redeemer in New York City. From that we can mark his
course confirming in all parts of the diocese, dedicating churches, and
ordaining to the priesthood, two of the six first ordained by him on the
feast of the Assumption of Our Lady in 1844, still surviving hoary with
long years of priestly labor, Rev. Sylvester Malone and Rev. George
McCloskey. But the weightier and important duties connected with the
administration are unrecorded. The most Rev. Archbishop of Baltimore in
his funeral sermon on Cardinal McCloskey said truly: "The life of the
Cardinal has never been written and never can be. And this is true of
every Catholic prelate. He can never have his Boswell. The biographer
may relate his public and official acts. He may recount the churches he
erected, the schools he opened, the institutions of charity and religion
which he established; the priests he ordained, the sermons he preached,
the sacraments he administered, the laborious visitations he made, but
he can know nothing of the private and inner life which is 'hidden with
Christ in God.' That is manifest to God's recording angel only. The
biographer knows nothing of the bishop's secret and confidential
relations with his clergy and people, and even with many who are alien
to his faith. He is the daily depository of their cares and anxieties,
of their troubles and afflictions, of their trials and temptations. They
come to him for counsel in doubt, for spiritual and even temporal
assistance. Were a bishop's real life in its outward and inward fulness
published, it would be more interesting than a novel."
Even with the aid of so untiring a coadjutor as Dr. McCloskey, Bishop
Hughes found the diocese too large to be administered with the care that
all portions required. When the Sixth Provincial Council convened at
Baltimore, in May, 1846, which he attended with his coadjutor, he urged
a division of his diocese, the necessity of which Bishop McCloskey could
attest. New Sees were proposed at Albany and Buffalo. Pius IX., yielding
to the request of the Fathers of the Council of Baltimore, erected the
dioceses of Albany and Buffalo. Bishop McCloskey was translated from the
See of Axiere to that of Albany, and the diocese committed to his care
comprised the portion of New York State north of the forty-second
degree, and lying east of Cayuga, Tompkins and Tioga counties.
He took possession of his diocese early in the summer, making St. Mary's
his pro-cathedral, till the erection of his cathedral, of which he laid
the corner-stone soon after his arrival. A visitation of his diocese
followed, and then began the work of developing the Catholic interests
in the portion of the State. His diocese contained forty-four churches,
and about as many clergymen, with but few institutions of education or
charity. Its progress was steady, solid and effectual. He added new
priests, well chosen and trained, introduced the Fathers of the Society
of Jesus, the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, the Christian Brothers, the
Ladies of the Sacred Heart. His Cathedral was completed and was
recognized as one of the greatest ornaments of the city; but all
extravagance was avoided and discouraged. Churches were reared suited to
the means of the flock, and the tepid, careless and indifferent were
recalled to their Christian duties, till the diocese assumed a new
spirit. None but those who lived there, and witnessed the progress, can
form a conception of what Bishop McCloskey accomplished while he gave
the best period of his life to the diocese of Albany.
More than a hundred churches, and nearly a hundred priests, with
schools, academies, hospitals, asylums, were the fruits of the Catholic
life aroused by his zeal.
As Bishop of Albany he took part in the Seventh Provincial Council of
Baltimore in 1849; the first Plenary Council, in 1852; and the first of
New York, 1854. In all these his prudence and wisdom deeply impressed
his associates, as many of them have testified. In his diocese his
relations to his clergy in his Synod, and in occasional directions,
showed a gentle consideration for others, which overcame all obstacles.
On the death of Archbishop Hughes, to whom he had long since been named
successor, the voice of the bishops of the Province, as well as the
desire of the clergy and people of the diocese, solicited from the Holy
See the promotion of Bishop McCloskey, and the successor of St. Peter
soon pronounced the definitive word. He returned to New York just as the
terrible civil war came to a close; and the paralyzed country could look
to its future. Under his impulse the new Cathedral was completed and
dedicated with a pomp never yet witnessed in the Western World. The
State of New York for some years had suffered from a want of churches;
but amid a war draining the wealth and blood of the country, it would
have been rash to attempt to erect them when all value were fictitious.
Now, under the impulse of the quiet and retiring Archbishop, old
churches were enlarged; new parishes were formed and endowed with
churches; schools increased in number and efficacy. While increasing the
number of his parochial clergy both in numbers and in the thorough
education he so highly esteemed, Archbishop McCloskey gave the religious
orders every encouragement, and introduced others. Communities of
religious women, for various forms of charity, also found a hearty
support from him. In the administration of the diocese, and the
direction of these communities, he displayed his wonted wisdom in
selecting as his Vicar General, the Rev. William Quinn, whose ability of
a remarkable order had already been tested.
Archbishop McCloskey took part in the Second Plenary Council of
Baltimore, in 1866, whose acts are such a code of doctrine and
discipline. "Of it he was a burning and a shining light," said
Archbishop Gibbons. "He was conspicuous alike for his eloquence in the
pulpit, and for his wisdom in the council chamber. I well remember the
discourse he delivered at the opening session. The clear, silvery tones
of his voice, the grace of his gestures and manner, the persuasive
eloquence and charm of his words are indelibly imprinted on my memory
and imagination. Just before ascending the pulpit, a telegram was handed
to him, announcing the destruction by fire of his Cathedral. He did not
betray the slightest emotion, notwithstanding the sudden and calamitous
news. Next morning I expressed to him my surprise at his imperturbable
manner. "The damage," he replied, "is done, and I cannot undo it. We
must calmly submit to the will of Providence.""
The decrees of the Plenary Council, with those of the Council of New
York, were promulgated by him in a Synod held by him at New York, in
September, 1868.
The next year he was summoned to attend a General Council at Rome, the
first held in the church since the Synod of Trent. The Council of the
Vatican had been equalled by but few in the number of bishops, by none
in the universality of the representation. Before modern science had
facilitated modes of travel and communication, the area including those
who attended was comparatively limited. To the Vatican Council, however,
they came not from all parts of Europe only, but from Palestine, India
and China; from the Moslem States of Africa; the European colonies; the
negro kingdoms of the interior; America sent her bishops from Canada and
the United States; the Spanish republics, Australia and the islands of
the Pacific even had their bishops seated beside those of the most
ancient Sees. Here Archbishop McCloskey was a conspicuous figure,
respected for learning, experience, the firmness with which he held the
opinion he mildly but conclusively advanced. In the committee on
discipline his wisdom excited the highest admiration of the presiding
cardinal.
When the impious seizure of Rome made the sovereign Pontiff a prisoner
in the Vatican, the proceedings of the council were deferred to better
days, which the Church still prayfully awaits. Archbishop McCloskey
returned to his diocese; but the malaria of the Campagna had affected
his health, never rugged, and shattered some years previously by a
railroad accident, on a journey required by his high office. But he
resumed his accustomed duties, inspiring good works, or guiding and
supporting them like the Catholic Protectory, the Catholic Union of New
York, and its branch since developed to such wide-reaching influence,
the Xavier Union.
The impression which he had produced at Rome, from his early visit as a
young priest to his dignified course in age as a Father of the Council
of the Vatican, led to a new and singular honor, in which the whole
country shared his honor. In the consistory held March 15, 1875, Pope
Pius IX. created Archbishop McCloskey a Cardinal Priest of the Holy
Roman Church, his title being that of Sancta Maria supra Minervam, the
very church from which Rt. Rev. Dr. Concanen was taken to preside over
the diocese of New York as its first bishop. The insignia of the high
dignity soon reached the city borne by a member of the Pope's noble
guard and a Papal Ablegate. The berretta was formerly presented to him
in St. Patrick's Cathedral, April 22, 1875. According to usage he soon
after visited Rome and took possession of the church from which he
derived his title. He was summoned to the conclave held on the death of
Pope Pius IX., but arrived only after the election of Pope Leo XIII., to
whom he paid homage, receiving from his hands the Cardinal's hat, the
last ceremonial connected with his appointment.
After his return he resumed his usual duties, but they soon required the
aid of a younger prelate, though all his suffragans were ever ready to
relieve their venerated Metropolitan by officiating for him. He finally
solicited the appointment of the young but tried Bishop of Newark as his
coadjutor, and Bishop Michael Augustine Corrigan was promoted to the
titular See of Petra, October 1, 1880. Gradually his health declined and
for a time he was dangerously ill; but retirement to Mount St.
Vincent's, where in the castellated mansion erected by Forrest, he had
the devoted care of the Sisters of Charity, and visits to Newport seemed
to revive for a time his waning strength. His mind remained clear, and
he continued to direct the affairs of his diocese, convening a
Provincial Council, the acts of which were transmitted to Rome. "The
Cardinal's fidelity to duty clung to him to the end. He continued to
plead for his flock at God's altar, as long as he had power to stand.
Even when the effort to say Mass would so fatigue him that he could do
nothing else that morning, he continued, at least, on feast days, to
offer the Holy Sacrifice. He said his last Mass on the Feast of the
Ascension, 1884." At the Plenary Council in Baltimore, at the close of
that year, the diocese was represented by his coadjutor.
From the time of his last Mass he was unable to read or write; unable to
move a single step without assistance. In this condition he lingered,
sinking by a slow and gradual decline, but preserving his serenity and
the full possession of his mental faculties. "None of those around him,"
says Archbishop Corrigan, "ever heard the first syllable of complaint.
It was again his service of the Lord, such as our Lord ordained it. To
those who sympathized with him in his helplessness, the sweet answer
would be made: 'It is God's will. Thy will, O Lord, be done on earth as
it is in heaven.' Fulfilling God's will, he passed away, calmly and in
peace, as the whole course of his life had been, and without a struggle;
'the last words he was able to utter, being the Hail Mary.'"
The death of our first American Cardinal, October 10th, 1885, called
forth from the press, and from the clergy of other denominations, a
uniform expression of deep and touching respect. He had won many moral
victories without fighting battles; his victories left no rancor.
Everywhere at Catholic altars Masses were offered for the repose of his
soul, and when the tidings crossed the Atlantic, the solemn services at
Paris and Rome attested the sense of his merit, and of the Church's
loss.
His funeral in New York was most imposing. Around the grand Cathedral,
as around a fretted rock of marble, surged the waves of people, like a
sea. The vast interior was filled, and beneath the groined roof he had
reared, lay, in his pontifical vestments,--the hat, insignia of his
highest dignity, at his feet,--the mild and gentle and patient Cardinal
McCloskey, his life's work well and nobly ended.
The solemn Mass, the deep tones of the organ, the Gregorian notes of the
choirs moved all to pray for the soul of one whose life had been given
to the service of God. The Archbishop of Baltimore, the Most Rev. James
Gibbons, pronounced the funeral discourse, and then the body was laid
beside those of his predecessors in the crypt beneath.
A month later, and again the _Dies Iræ_ resounded through that noble
monument of his love for religion. The Month's Mind, that touching
tribute which our Church pays her departed, called forth from the Most
Rev. Michael A. Corrigan, who knew him so well and so intimately, words
full of touching reminiscences.
Bishop Lynch, of Charleston, S. C., who knew him so intimately, thus
described him a few years ago before the hand of disease had changed
him. "In personal appearance the Cardinal is about five feet ten inches
in height, straight, and thin in person and apparently frail, though his
chest is full, and the tones of his voice when preaching are clear and
far reaching. His features are regular and finely chiselled. The brow is
lofty, the nose thin and straight, the eyes keen, quick and penetrating;
the thin lips, even in repose, seeming to preserve the memory of a
smile; the whole expression of the countenance, one of serious thought
and placid repose. Yet you feel or see indications of activity ready to
manifest itself through the brows, the eyes or the lips. In fact his
temperament is decidedly nervous; and if you observe the natural
promptness and decision of his movements, you might almost think him
quick and naturally impetuous. There could be no greater mistake; or, if
he is such by natural disposition, this is one of the points where his
seminary training has taught him to control and master himself. The
forte of his character is his unchanging equanimity. And yet there must
have been in him a wondrous amount of nervous energy to enable him to
survive very serious injuries to his frame in early life, and to endure
the severe physical labors of an American bishop for thirty years....
Piety, learning, experience, zeal--every bishop should have these as a
matter of course. He has more. In address, gentle, frank and winning, he
at once puts you at ease, and makes you feel you are speaking to a
father or a friend in whom you may unreservedly confide. Soft and
delicate in manners as a lady, none could ever presume in his presence
to say a word or do an act tinged with rudeness, still less indelicacy.
Kind and patient with all who come to him, he is especially considerate
with his clergy. To them he is just in his decisions, wise in his
counsels and exhortations, ever anxious to aid them in their
difficulties. Tender and lenient as a mother to those who wish to do
right, and to correct evil, he is inflexible when a principle is at
stake, and can be stern when the offender is obdurate. Notoriety and
display are supremely distasteful to him. He would have his work done,
and thoroughly done, and his own name or his part in it never mentioned.
He studiously avoids coming before the public, save in his
ecclesiastical functions, or where a sense of duty drives him to it. He
prefers to work quietly and industriously in the sphere of his duties.
Here, he is unflagging, so ordering matters that work never accumulates
on his hands through his own neglect."
The Pope and the Mikado.
The following is the text of the letter addressed by His Holiness to the
Mikado of Japan:--
_To the Illustrious and Most Mighty Emperor of All Japan, LEO PP. XIII.,
greeting._
August Emperor:
Though separated from each other by a vast intervening expanse of space,
we are none the less fully aware here of your pre-eminent, anxious care
in promoting all that is for the good of Japan. In truth, the measures
Your Imperial Majesty has taken for the increase of civilization, and
especially for the moral culture of your people, call for the praise and
approval of all who desire the welfare of nations and that interchange
of benefits which are the natural fruit of a more refined culture,--the
more so that, with greater moral polish, the minds of men are more
fitted to imbibe wisdom and to embrace the light of truth. For these
reasons we beg of you that you will graciously be pleased to accept this
visible expression of our good-will with the same sincerity with which
it is tendered.
The very reason, indeed, which has moved us to despatch this letter to
Your Majesty, has been our wish of publicly expressing the pleasure of
our heart. For the favors which have been vouchsafed to every missionary
and Christian, we are truly beholden to you. By their own testimony we
have been made acquainted with your grace and goodness to both priests
and laymen. Nothing truly, in your power, could be more praiseworthy as
a matter of justice or more beneficent to the common weal, inasmuch as
you will find the Catholic religion a powerful auxiliary in maintaining
the stability of your Empire.
For all dominion is founded on justice, and of justice there is not a
principle which is not laid down in the precepts of Christianity. And
thus, all they who bear the name of Christian, are above all
enjoined,--not through fear of punishments, but by the voice of
religion,--to reverence the kingly sway, to obey the laws, and not to
seek for ought in public affairs save that which is peaceful and
upright. We most earnestly beseech you, therefore, to grant the utmost
freedom in your power to all Christians, and to deign, as heretofore, to
protect their institutions with your patronage and favor. We, on our
part, shall suppliantly beseech God, the author of all good, that he may
grant your beneficial undertakings their wished-for outcome, and may
bestow upon Your Majesty, and the whole realm of Japan, blessings and
favors increasing day by day.
Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the twelfth day of May, 1885, in the
eighth year of Our Pontificate.
Order of the Buried Alive.
The order of the Buried Alive in Rome, the Convent of the Sepolte Vivo,
is a remnant of the Middle Ages in the life of to-day. _The London
Queen's_ correspondent had the privilege of an entrance within, one
after another, of the five iron doors, and talking with the Mother
Superior through the thick swathing of a woollen veil, but ordinary
communication with the convent is carried on through the "barrel," which
fills an opening in the wall. Over the barrel is written: "Who will live
contented within these walls, let her leave at the gate every earthly
care." You knock at the barrel, which turns slowly around till it shows
a section like that of an orange from which one of the quarters has been
cut.
You speak to the invisible sister, who asks your will; and she answers
you in good Italian and cultivated intonation. You hear the voice quite
distinctly, but as if it was far, far away. She is really separated from
you by a slender slice of wood, but she is absolutely invisible. Not the
smallest ray of light, nor the smallest chink is visible between you and
her. Sound travels through the barrel, but sight is absolutely excluded.
These nuns live on charity, keeping two Lents in the year--one from
November to Christmas, the other the ordinary Lent of Catholic
Christendom. Living, therefore, on charity, they may eat whatever is
given to them, saving always "flesh meat" during the fasting time.
If you take them a cake or a loaf of bread, a roll of chocolate bonbons,
a basket of eggs, it is all good for them. They must be absolutely
without food for twenty-four hours before they may ask help from the
outside world; and when they have looked starvation in the face, then
they may ring a bell, which means: "Help us! we are famishing!" Perhaps
you take them nothing eatable, but you place on the edge of the cut
orange, by which you sit, some money, demanding in return their
"cartolini," or little papers.
The barrel turns slowly round, then back again, and you find on the
ledge, where you had laid your lire, a paper of "cartolini." These are
very small, thin, light-printed slips, neatly folded in tiny packets,
three to each packet, which, if you swallow in faith, will cure you of
all disease. After your talk is ended, the barrel turns around once more
and presents its face as of an immovable and impenetrable-looking
barrier. One of the pretty traditions of Rome is, that each sister has
her day, when she throws a flower over the convent wall as a sign to her
watching friends that she is still alive. When she has been gathered to
the majority, the flower is not thrown, and the veil has fallen forever.
Harvard College and the Catholic Theory of Education.
Slowly, but with unmistakable certainty, the logic of the Catholic
teaching regarding true education is forcing itself upon non-Catholic
minds. Day by day some prominent Protestant comes boldly to the front
and declares his belief that education must be based upon religion. One
of the latest accessions to this correct theory is President Eliot, of
Harvard College, who declared at a recent meeting of Boston
schoolteachers that,--
"The great problem is that of combining religions with secular
education. This was no problem sixty or seventy years ago, for
then our people were homogeneous. Now, the population is
heterogeneous. Religious teaching can best be combined with
secular teaching and followed in countries of heterogeneous
population, like Germany, Austria, France and Belgium, where
the government pays for the instruction, and the religious
teachers belonging to different denominations are admitted to
the public schools at fixed times. That is the only way out of
the difficulty.... I see, growing up on every side, parochial
schools--that is, Catholic schools--which take large numbers of
children out of the public schools of the city. That is a great
misfortune, and the remedy is to admit religious instructors to
teach these children in the public schools. This is what is
done in Europe. And all those who are strongly interested in
the successful maintenance of our public school system will
urge the adoption of the method I have described for religious
education."
These are strong words, and coming from such a source cannot fail to
have their legitimate result. The fearlessness and sincerity of
President Eliot in thus stating his position on this most important
subject merits the appreciation of every American, Catholic or
Protestant.
We add in connection with the above, the remarks of the _Christian
Advocate_, a Protestant paper published at San Francisco, Cal.:--
"The course which the Roman Catholic Hierarchy, in this
country, are taking in regard to the education of children is,
from their standpoint, worthy of praise. They see that in order
to keep their children under the rule of the Church, they must
keep them from the public schools, where they think Protestant
influence predominates. Therefore they are providing for them
in their parochial schools and academies at an extra expense
that does credit to their zeal and devotion. Their plans are
broad, deep and far-reaching, and they are a unit in the
prosecution of them. They are loyal to their convictions,
making everything subservient to the interests of their
religion. Understanding, as they do, the importance of moulding
character in the formative period, they look diligently after
the religious culture of their children. In all this they are
deserving of commendation, and Protestants may receive valuable
hints from them of tenacity of grip and self-denying devotion
to their faith."
An Affecting Incident at Sea.
Seldom have passengers by our great Atlantic steamers witnessed so
solemn and impressive a scene as that at which it fell to the lot of the
passengers in the outward voyage of the Inman liner, "City of Chester,"
to assist. It appears that one of the passengers was a Mr. John Enright,
a native of Kerry, who, having amassed a fortune in America, had gone to
Ireland to take out with him to his home in St. Louis three young nieces
who had recently become orphans. During the passage Mr. Enright died
from an affection of the heart; and the three little orphans were left
once more without a protector. Fortunately there were amongst the
passengers the Rev. Father Tobin, of the Cathedral, St. Louis; the Rev.
Father Henry, of the Church of St. Laurence O'Toole, St. Louis; and the
Rev. Father Clarkson, of New York. Father Henry was the Celebrant of the
Mass of Requiem; and Colonel Mapleson and his London Opera Company, who
were also on board, volunteered their services for the choir. They
chanted, with devotional effect, the _De Profundis_ and the _Miserere_;
and Madame Marie Roze sang, "Oh, rest in the Lord," from "Elijah." The
bell of the ship was then tolled; and a procession was formed, headed by
Captain Condron, of the "City of Chester." The coffin, which was
enveloped in the American flag, was borne to the side of the ship, from
which it was gently lowered into the sea. The passengers paid every
attention to the orphans during the remainder of the voyage, at the
termination of which they were forwarded to the residence of their late
uncle in St. Louis.
Sing, Sing for Christmas.
Sing, sing for Christmas! Welcome happy day!
For Christ is born our Saviour, to take our sins away;
Sing, sing a joyful song, loud and clear to-day,
To praise our Lord and Saviour, who in the manger lay.
Sing, sing for Christmas! Echo, earth! and cry
Of worship, honor, glory, and praise to God on high;
Sing, sing the joyful song; let it never cease;
Of glory in the highest, on earth good-will to man.
Dead Man's Island.
THE STORY OF AN IRISH COUNTRY TOWN.
T. P. O'CONNOR, M. P.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DOOMED NATION.
A passion of anger and despair swept over Ireland when it was at last
announced that Crowe had sold the pass. For some days the people were in
the same dazed and helpless condition of mind that followed the potato
blight of '46. In that terrible year one of the strange and most
universally observed phenomena was that the people looked, for days
after the advent of the blight that brought the certainty of hunger and
death, silent and motionless and apathetic. And so it was now, when
there came a blight, less quickly, but as surely, destructive of
national life and hope. There was a dread presentiment that this was a
blow from which the nation was not destined to recover for many a long
day, and though they could not reason about it, the people had the
instinctive feeling that the rule of the landlord was now fixed more
tightly than ever, and that emancipation was postponed to a day beyond
that of the present generation.
The landlords appreciated the situation with the same instinctive
readiness and perception. At once the pause which had come in the work
of eviction was broken, the plague raged immediately with a fierceness
that seemed to have gained more hellish energy and more devilish cruelty
from its temporary abatement. The roads were thick with troops of people
rushing wildly from their homes and fleeing from their native country as
from a land cursed alike by God and by man. Mat Blake, passing along
from Dublin to Ballybay, was almost driven to insanity by the sights he
saw at the different sections along the way.
Every station was besieged by vast crowds of the emigrants and their
friends. There are few sights so touching as the sight of the parting of
Irish families at a railway station. The ties of family are closer and
more affectionate than anybody can appreciate who has not lived the life
of an Irish home. The children grow up in a dependence on their parents
that may well seem slavery to other peoples. The grown son is still the
"boy" years after he has attained manhood's years, the daughter remains
a little girl, whom her mother has the right to chide and direct and
control in every action. Such ties beget helplessness as well as
affection, and the Irish peasant still regards many things as worse than
death, which, by peoples of less ardent religious faith, are regarded
more philosophically.
When Mat looked at the simple faces of those poor girls, at the
bewildered look in the countenances of the young men, and thought of
how ignorant and helpless these people were, he could understand the
almost insane anguish of their parents as they saw them embark on an
ocean so dark and tempestuous and remote as the crowded cities of
America, and Mat could penetrate down into the minds of his people and
see with the lightning flash of sympathy the dread spectre that tortured
the minds, filled the eyes, and darkened the brows of the Irish parents.
Station after station, it was always the same sight. The parting
relatives were locked in each other's arms; they wept and cried aloud,
and swayed in their grief.
"Cheer up, father; God is good."
"Ah, Paddie, my darlint, I'll never see ye agin."
"Oh mother, dear, don't fret."
"May God and His Blessed Mother in heaven protect my poor girl."
Then more kisses through the carriage windows.
The guards and porters frantically called upon the people to stand back;
they clung on, careless of danger to life and limb; and as the black,
hideous, relentless monster shot away they rushed along the line; they
passed into the fields, and waved handkerchiefs, and shouted the names
of the parting child or sister or brother; until at last the distance
swallowed up the train and its occupants, and then they returned to
homes from which forever afterwards the light had passed away.
Such were the scenes which Mat saw, and when he got to Ballybay station
there was that look on his face which to any keen observer would have
revealed much in the Irish character and afforded the key to many
startling episodes in Irish history. It was a look at once of infinite
rage and infinite despair; it spoke of wrong--hated, gigantic, at once
intolerable and insurmountable. One sees a similar impress in the faces
of Irishmen in Massachusetts, though the climate of America has reduced
the large, loose frame to the thin build of the new country, and has
bleached the ruddy complexion of Ireland to a sickly white or an ugly
yellow; it is the look one can detect in the faces of the men who dream
of death in the midst of slain foes and wrecked palaces; it blazes in
the eyes of Healy, as with sacrilegious hand he smites the venerable
front of the mother of Parliaments.
Mat had come to Ireland for the Easter recess; he had drawn out of the
savings bank a few pounds of the money he had placed there for the
furnishing of the house which he destined for Mary and Betty Cunningham.
He longed to have a share in punishing the perjured traitor who had
betrayed the country. The sights he had seen along the route satisfied
him as to the temper of the people, and he entered Ballybay secure in
the hope that if the traitor had been raised by the town to the
opportunity of deceiving the people, he would be cast into the dust by
the same hand.
He had not been long in the town when he found that he had wholly
misconceived its spirit. The one feeling that seemed to dominate all
others, was that the acceptance by Crowe of office meant another
election; and another election meant another shower of gold.
In his father's house he found assembled his father and mother, and Tom
Flaherty and Mary. They were discussing the election, of course, and
this was how they discussed it.
"I always thought Crowe was a smart fellow," said Fleming. "There's one
thing certain; he'll have plenty of money now, and as I have always
said, 'I'm a Protestant,'" and then Mat repeated his characteristic
saying.
"Do you mean to say," said Mat, with a face fierce with rage and
surprise, "that you'd vote again for Crowe, after his treason?"
"And why shouldn't he vote for him?" asked Mat's mother, in a voice
almost as fierce as his own. "Isn't he a Government man, and doesn't
every one know that the people who can do anything for themselves or
anybody else in Ireland are Government men?"
Mat, fond as he was of his mother, felt almost as if he could have
killed her at that moment; he could not speak for a few minutes for
rage. At last he almost shrieked, "If there was any decency in Ballybay
Crowe would never leave the town alive."
"Ah! the crachure!" said Tom Flaherty.
"Ah! the crachure! Why shouldn't he look out for himself; shure, isn't
that what we're all trying to do? God bless us."
Mary glanced uneasily at Mat, but he refused to look at her; she seemed
for a moment spoiled in his eyes by her kinship with this polluted and
degraded creature. His father gave him a wistful glance, but said
nothing. Whenever there was a tempest between his wife and his son he
remained silent.
And so this was how Ballybay regarded the great betrayal! Mat felt
inclined to throw himself into the Shannon, and have done with life as
quickly as he was losing hope and faith.
He took a look once more at the bare and squalid streets and gloomy
people; and then at the frowning castle and the passing regiment of the
English garrison; and he despaired of his country.
But he had come to help in the fight against Crowe; and after the
involuntary tribute of this brief interval of despondency, he at once
set to work. After many disappointments he found a few men who shared
his views of the situation, and a committee was formed to go out and ask
Captain Ponsonby to stand once more; for though Mat hated the politics
of Ponsonby, he thought any stick was good enough to beat the foul
traitor with. Captain Ponsonby consented, and so the contest was
started. The _Nation_ newspaper sent down several of its staff; the old
Tenant Right Party held meetings, asked that Ballybay should do its
duty, and save the whole country from the awful calamity of triumphant
treason. Everything was thus arranged for a struggle with Crowe that
would test all his powers, backed though he was by the money and the
influence of the Government.
Mat's speeches, the articles in the newspapers, and the vigorous efforts
of the few honest men in the town, had at last roused Ballybay until it
began to share some of the profound horror and indignation which the
action of Crowe had provoked throughout the country generally. There was
but one more thing necessary, and the defeat of Crowe was certain; if
the bishop joined in the opposition, there was no possibility of his
winning.
All Ireland waited in painful tension to see what the verdict of the
bishop would be. Mat heard it before anybody else, for a young curate
who lived in the College House with the bishop, and was a fierce
Nationalist, gave Mat a daily bulletin; the bishop resolved to support
the Solicitor-General.
At first nobody would believe the tale; but the next day it was put
beyond all doubt, and Mat was almost suffocated by his own wrath as he
saw the "Seraph," with his divine face, arm in arm with the perjured
ruffian that had brought sorrow to so many thousands of homes.
Mat fought on, but it was no longer with any strong hope of winning. His
face grew darker every day, and the lines became drawn about his eyes,
for there was another struggle going on in his mind at this moment, as
well as the political contest in which he was engaged.
The reader may remember the monitor of the school in which Mat was a
pupil when the eviction of the widow Cunningham took place. The monitor
was now the teacher of the National School, and Mat and he had begun to
have many colloquies.
Michael Reed was regarded as a very sardonic and disagreeable person by
most of the people of Ballybay. His hatchet face seemed appropriate to a
man who never seemed to agree with the opinion of anybody else, who
sneered, it was thought, all round, who laughed when other people wept,
and who derided the moments of exultant hope. He had always been among
those who hated and distrusted Crowe, and Mat, who was intolerant
himself, rather avoided him, while he still had faith in the traitor.
But the wreck of all his illusions sent him repentant to Reed, and they
had many conversations, in which Mat found himself listening willingly
and after a while even greedily, to ideas that a short time before he
would have been himself the first to denounce as folly and madness.
The idea of Reed was that the only way to work out the freedom of
Ireland was by force of arms. Mat at first was inclined to laugh at the
idea; but an impressionable and vehement nature such as his was ill
calculated to cope for a lengthened time with a nature precise, cold,
and stubborn like that of Reed. Strength of will and tenacity of opinion
make their way against better judgment, especially if there can be no
doubt of the sincerity of the man of such a temper, and the rigid eye,
the proud air, and the whole attitude of Reed spoke, and spoke truly, of
a life of absolute purity, and of a fanaticism of Spartan endurance.
There was one consequence of the acceptance of the ideas of Reed, and
from this, with all his devotion and rage and sorrow for the pitiable
condition of his country, Mat still shrank. A revolutionary could not
marry or be engaged to marry; for what man had the right to tie to his
dark and uncertain fate the life of a woman--perhaps of children?
The defeat of Crowe would once more restore faith to the people in
constitutional resources, and would save them from the cynicism and
apathy which might require a revolutionary movement to rouse them once
more to hope and action. And thus in fighting against Crowe, Mat now
felt as if he were fighting not merely for his country, but for his own
dear life.
Then if Crowe were defeated, Mat could return to his work in London, and
resume his efforts in carrying out the sacred purpose of raising his
father and mother from poverty; for of marriage he could not think
unless he were in a position to help his father and mother more than he
had done hitherto. If he ever dared to think of marriage otherwise,
there came before him the gaunt image of his mother pointing to her
faded and ragged workbox with its awful pawn-tickets and bank bills.
It was while he was in the midst of this fierce and agonizing struggle
that Mat was called hurriedly one day to the house of Mary, by the news
that Mrs. Flaherty had been taken very ill, and was supposed to be
dying.
Mat came to the house, endeared to him by so many memories and hopes,
trembling, and with a cold feeling about his heart. Why was it that he
started back with a pang when he saw Cosgrave in the house before him?
Why at that moment did there rush again over his whole soul that awful
image which swept over him before? Why in imagination did he stand at
night on a wild heath, shivering and alone?
"What brought Cosgrave here?" he asked of Mary sharply.
"Oh!" said Mary, "he came to tell us that he had been made a J. P."
"So he has attained his pitiful ambition," said Mat sharply. "It's
through sneaks like him that scoundrels like Crowe are able to betray
the country."
"Oh, never mind the low creature," said Mary, with a look of infinite
contempt, that Mat was surprised to find very soothing.
He went up stairs. A look at the face of Mrs. Flaherty showed him at
once that the alarm was not a false one--she was evidently dying.
There was the old look of patient affection in her tender face, and
there was another look, too, which Mat could not misunderstand. It was a
look of wistful appeal, half-uttered question, of a fond but tremulous
hope.
And it added to the misery of that dark hour that Mat could say nothing,
and that he had to let that true and deeply-loved soul pass out of life
with its greatest fear unsatisfied, and its brightest hope unassured.
For Mat could not utter a decisive word.
Between him and the speech there stood two shadows, potent, dark, and
resistless--his mother pointing to her workbox, and Reed pointing to a
revolver.
Mary stood beside the bed tearless.
"Doesn't Mary bear up well?" said Mat in surprise to her blubbering
father.
"Mary doesn't cry," said her father; "she frets," and in these words Mat
thought the whole character of the girl was summed up.
Mrs. Flaherty died on Thursday; the polling was on the following day.
Mat was still under the impression of the dark and painful scene when
the new excitement came. He hoped against hope to the last, went about
the town like one insane, and spoke in his passion of country even to
O'Flynn, the pawn-broker, and of honor to Mat Fleming, and then waited
at the closing hour to hear the result. The result was:--
Crowe 125
Ponsonby 112
Mat turned pale, and almost fell, his head swam, his heart seemed for a
moment to have stopped. He would not yet acknowledge it in so many
words; but the sentence still kept ringing in his ears, "Thy doom is
sealed, thy doom is sealed."