taught by this biography [of Dr. Faber] is the lesson of charity” (p.
531). He is also so obviously correct in his remark that “charity does
not require us to admit that to be true which is false,” that we
wonder he took the trouble to make it. Moreover, we cannot and do not
wish to dispute his right “to pronounce a flaming Roman Catholic
professor a child of the devil who shows himself to be one.” But we
wish to add to his statement one more, which is that justice requires,
as well as charity, that one should not make atrocious charges or
apply opprobrious epithets without adequate proofs and motives. Let
the reverend gentleman consider, then, coolly and deliberately, and
let every Protestant reader of this article consider and judge of the
following sentence:
“It would not be enlightened charity which would make us think
that, perhaps, after all, _the licentious Roman Catholic
priests of Spain and Italy, and the brutal priests of
Ireland_, are Christian men” (p. 531).
Charity! We do not ask your charity. We spurn with indignation any
such despicable counterfeit of charity as that which is here
repudiated. The Catholic Church does not need any mantle to throw 409
over any priests who are either “licentious” or “brutal.” Let the
jurisdiction over clerical delinquents, which rightfully belongs to
her, be admitted and sustained by the civil governments, and she will
treat them with the right kind of charity, by restraining them from
all power to sin, and giving them an opportunity of doing penance.
Civil governments, when they have been engaged in a conflict with the
church, and Protestant leaders, have always been ready enough to
encourage, to employ, and to reward these outcasts of the priesthood,
or impostors who have falsely pretended to be priests. By their
suborned testimony, the British government hanged Oliver Plunkett at
Tyburn. For the sake of another of the same sort, an English jury
fined and imprisoned the most honorable and illustrious writer in
England. Examples nearer home are not wanting, and are not, we
suppose, quite yet forgotten. All those worthless members of the
priesthood who have been disgraced, or who deserve to be, we leave to
bear by themselves the judgment both of men and of God. But on what
evidence are the priests of Spain and of Italy called in general and
unqualified terms “licentious,” and the priests of Ireland “brutal”?
We would like to know what opportunity American Presbyterians have of
knowing accurately the condition of the Spanish clergy. Blanco White,
as Dr. Newman shows, furnishes no testimony which can be used to prove
any such assumption as that of our very confident friend Mr. Scribner.
In regard to Italy, is there any testimony given by trustworthy,
competent witnesses, who have lived there long enough to know what the
character of the clergy is, or anything which the violent enemies of
the church in Italy have been able to establish against the clergy,
which warrants the opprobrious epithets applied to them in the elegant
passage we have cited above? That the busybodies who are trying to
make mischief in Italy, and whose proceedings are viewed with intense
disgust by some honorable Protestant clergymen, keep some very
disreputable company among the Italian clergy, we have no doubt. We
suppose there are more than one hundred thousand priests in Italy,
and, as we have seen two such specimens as Gavazzi and Achilli, we
cannot wonder if there are some scores of similar individuals who are
able to keep their places under the protection of so detestable a
government as that of Victor Emanuel. These are the men who consort
with Protestant emissaries, and who malign the virtue of their
brethren, which they hate and envy because of their own wickedness.
But, as Dr. Newman remarks, those who leave the Catholic Church, and
yet retain some moral probity and gentlemanly honor, do not furnish
Protestants with the evidence they want in order to sustain their
defamation of the Catholic priesthood. Men like Wharton, Blanco White,
Lord Dunboyne, Gioberti,[96] Capes, Hyacinthe, and Döllinger, do not
answer the purpose for which they are wanted, because they will not
utter the gross calumnies or invent the startling, sensational lies
which certain infamous scribblers like Maria Monk, or mountebank
lecturers like Leahy and the last new Baron, manufacture for the
greedy ears of a credulous public.
The insult offered to the clergy of Ireland is equally offensive and 410
touches us still more closely. It is not so bad an epithet which is
applied to them, but, while it is vague enough to make it difficult to
seize and expose the precise calumny which the writer intends to
fasten, it is forcible enough to make it as insulting and opprobrious
as any epithet which a gentleman could well use, or a refined and
scholarly periodical suffer to appear on its pages. It is like the
gross caricatures of _Harper’s Magazine_. We blush at the thought of
noticing such an aspersion on the Irish clergy. The priests of Ireland
_brutal_? The Irish people are not a brutal people, and it is
impossible that a brutal clergy should spring from them. The clergy
are loved by their people, they cannot therefore be brutally cruel;
they are respected by them, and therefore they cannot be brutally
vicious. They are educated men; they meet noblemen and gentlemen on
equal terms. Irish society is cultivated, refined, and polished, and
the Catholic priests of Ireland are respected by the respectable
Protestants of Ireland. Such an accusation as this could not be made
in Dublin, or on the floor of the British House of Commons, without
calling derision on the head of the unlucky person who ventured to use
a sort of language about Catholics, which polite society is beginning
to regard as unfit for its ears.
It is no wonder that a gentleman so prejudiced against the Catholics
and their religion as Mr. Scribner has shown himself to be, should be
astonished or puzzled at the conversions which have taken place in the
past twenty-five years:
“How one educated in the Protestant faith can become a sincere
Papist it is difficult for us to understand, and to many minds
the thing seems impossible” (p. 516).
He tries to diminish, and as far as possible to shirk the difficulty
by laying the blame on Anglicanism and Puseyism:
“It must be remembered that for an Anglican or Puseyite to become
a Catholic is a very different thing from the conversion to
Romanism of any other intelligent Protestant.”
The perusal of Dr. Newman’s _Lectures_ will show that the Protestant
view and the Protestant prejudice have had as deep and strong a hold
in the English Establishment as in the Kirk, and, therefore, the
difficulty remains where it was. But, although we may allow that a
High-churchman is logically nearer to a Catholic than is a
Presbyterian, there are plenty of cases of the conversion of those who
were brought up in the other Protestant churches. Hurter, Phillipps,
Stolberg, and De Haller were Lutherans. Mr. Lucas was a Quaker, and F.
Baker was brought up a Methodist; Dr. Brownson was a Unitarian, and
Judge Burnett was a Campbellite. There are numbers of converts in the
United States from the Lutherans, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists,
Unitarians, and other denominations. It does not alter the case that
some of the best known of the converts who were brought up in various
sects became Episcopalians first, and afterwards Catholics. For, as
our author asserts, they became by that step “almost Catholics.” And
how did they first become convinced of those “almost Catholic”
doctrines, and altogether Catholic principles which they only
logically followed out when they became Catholics? Then, again, we
have the two Drachs, the two Ratisbons, Hermann and Veith, who were
Israelites. Infidels, too, have been converted, as well as Protestants
and Jews; men of every country, rank, and profession, noblemen, 411
clergymen, statesmen, lawyers, physicians, merchants, military and
naval officers, have embraced the Catholic faith. Since the time of
the so-called Reformation, these converts have amounted to hundreds of
thousands, and it is our opinion that there must be at least fifty
thousand at the present moment in the Catholic Church of the United
States. This fact must, therefore, be looked in the face, and it must
be admitted that there is something in the Catholic religion which is
capable of convincing the understanding and winning the homage of the
most intelligent, upright, and conscientious persons, even though they
have been educated in Protestantism.
Mr. Scribner admits, with a commendable candor and frankness, the
sincerity and excellence of Father Faber:
“One at least who followed Dr. Newman into that communion
deserves, as far as his love for the Lord Jesus and his
self-sacrificing zeal are concerned, to be held as a
model--Frederick William Faber. In his numerous devotional books,
in all his correspondence, and in his hymns, almost all of which
are of the highest order for beauty, tenderness, and
spirituality, there breathe sweet humility, childlike trust in
Jesus as the Saviour of the lost, and the most loving submission
to the divine will.... And yet this man, whose self-sacrificing
piety and loveliness of Christian character all must acknowledge,
was, during almost the whole period in which he so earnestly
sought the good of others by his incessant toil, as sincere and
thorough a Romanist as if he had drunk in the system with his
mother’s milk.... But as long as one retains with these errors
(‘the monstrous doctrines of transubstantiation, the sacrifice of
the Mass, the supremacy of the Pope, purgatory, the worship of
the saints, and the adoration of the Virgin’), however
inconsistently, the essential truths of the Gospel, his holding
them is not incompatible with piety. Whoever is a true worshipper
of Christ is born of God, and that the subject of this biography
worshipped and loved the Saviour it is _impossible to doubt_....
One great lesson taught by this biography is the lesson of
charity, and that we should be cautious in assuming that a man is
not a Christian because he is a Romanist. Undoubtedly, when we
obey the injunction of the Scripture to pray for ‘all saints,’ we
pray for many who are in the Church of Rome. Even a Romish priest
who prays to the Virgin, and who teaches the people to pray to
her, as Faber certainly did, may be, like him, an humble
worshipper and lover of Jesus. And though he may practise
austerities, he may do so in a different spirit from that which
actuates the masses in his own church, for, instead of being full
of self-righteousness, he may have no confidence in his own
righteousness.... We may admit, etc., and yet believe that God
has a people in the Church of Rome who live and die within her
pale” (pp. 515, 516, 517, 531, 532).
Let the reader peruse these passages carefully. They read very
differently from the other set of extracts, and yet they occur
together, mixed up with each other, and we have separated them in
order to exhibit more clearly the singular clashing in the author’s
mind between old, timeworn prejudices, and a new, intruding set of
thoughts and sentiments derived from the perusal of F. Faber’s life
and writings. We have shown how he attempts to reunite the two. But
they cannot live peaceably together in the same breast, any more than
could Sara and Agar in the same tent. They are incompatible. It is
impossible to make out of Father Faber an exceptional case. If the
charge of idolatry is sustained against us, and if, in other respects,
the Roman Church deserves the epithets applied to her by our enemies,
Father Faber went with his eyes open, and remained with his eyes
opening wider and wider, and died in a religion which cannot be
embraced without bringing death to the soul. He was no adherent of 412
any softening, modifying, minimizing school. He was not like any of
those whom Protestants are wont to regard with favor as belonging more
to themselves than to us, as a sort of secret, unconscious
Protestants, who are only externally united to the Roman Church, while
their spirit is alien from her spirit. There was nothing of Pascal,
Martin Boos, or Hyacinthe about him. He was not even one of those who
stopped short at the line of strictly defined and obligatory doctrine,
as if afraid of being extreme Catholics. He was no Gallican, no
rigorist, no advocate of anything that might be called Neo-Catholic or
Anglo-Catholic. Even in regard to minor and accessory matters, to
modes and ways in which there is great room for variation in opinion
and practice, he preferred those which characterize the genius of the
Italian and Spanish nations, and which seem to the colder and more
reserved temperament of the English to be the most remote and foreign
to their tastes and intellectual habits. He endeavored to divest
himself of everything which bore the semblance of conformity even in
accidentals to Anglicanism, and to throw his whole soul into what he
considered to be the most perfectly Catholic mould. He outran in this
many both of the old English Catholics and of his fellow-converts.
Especially in regard to the devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, he
made himself the champion of the most exalted views concerning the
power and glory of the Mother of God, and the importance of her cultus
in the practical teaching and piety which is directed to the end of
the conversion and perfection of souls. He followed St. Bernardine of
Sienna, St. Alphonsus, and the V. Louis Grignon de Montfort, and his
entire spiritual doctrine is derived from similar sources, as it were
flowing from the very topmost heights of mystic contemplation, above
the clouds, and far remote from the paths and ken of ordinary mortals.
In his theology, which is remarkable both for accuracy and depth, he
always follows those authors whose doctrine accords with the strictest
criterion of Roman orthodoxy. It is not, then, anything in Father
Faber which is peculiar and self-originated, or which he brought over
from his Protestant education, and has mixed with Catholic doctrine as
a clarifying ingredient, that makes his books popular with
Protestants, and has excited the admiration of the writer in the
_Princeton Review_. F. Faber’s doctrine and sanctity are purely
Catholic products. The homage which he has extorted is homage paid to
the school in which he learned, and the masters and models he
followed. The sheep shows the quality of his pasture in the fineness
and whiteness of his wool. “Men do not gather grapes of thorns or figs
of thistles.” If our reverend friend were more familiar with the lives
of the Saints and the works of Catholic spiritual writers, he would
cease to wonder at F. Faber and his works. We can point him to whole
libraries of works in which the characters and actions of a multitude
of similar men and women are depicted, and where countless forms of
the same divine truths and holy sentiments are presented. Those who
“practised austerities” to the greatest possible extent, the
solitaries of the desert, the holy monks and nuns, the saints of the
most heroic type, are precisely those who were marked at the same time
by their entire conformity to the doctrine and spirit of the Roman
Church, their profound humility, and their ardent love of the great
Lord and Saviour of mankind. Contrasting F. Faber, and others like 413
him, with the great body of fervent Catholics, as if they had a
“different spirit,” the great body being “full of self-righteousness,”
and these select few having “no confidence in their own
righteousness,” is sheer nonsense, and an unmeaning rattle of words.
We cannot all pretend to possess the genius, the loveliness of
character, the extraordinary graces, or the exalted sanctity of F.
Faber. But all those who hold the genuine Catholic doctrine which our
holy mother the church teaches, and possess in any degree the genuine
Catholic piety which she inculcates, are, so far, like F. Faber. The
same spirit is in all, whether they be the frail and sinful confessing
their sins with contrition, the sincere though imperfect who are
striving to keep God’s commandments with more or less diligence, or
the more advanced in Christian virtue and holiness of life. Those who
have a false and counterfeit piety, who indulge in the spiritual sins
of pride, self-confidence, and vainglory, who are willing victims to
the illusions of the devil, and seek to play the part of saints in
order to gratify their self-love and win applause, are like other
sinners, except that they have more of the hypocrite about them. They
generally become heretics, or fall into open sin, and cease acting
their wearisome part, unless they are truly humbled and converted.
These are the persons who have a “different spirit” from that which
actuates the true children of the church. That F. Faber touched the
common chords which vibrate through the great Catholic heart is shown
by the fact that he is the most popular spiritual writer of this
century. Three hundred thousand copies of his works, in some six or
seven languages, had been sold some time ago, and they still continue
to circulate everywhere. It is not a little remarkable that the same
chord is obedient to his touch in the hearts of so many Protestants.
What genius, learning, reasoning, philosophy, cannot do, the faith and
love which spring from prayer and penance accomplish with ease. It is
a remarkable fact, and we call the attention of Catholic preachers and
writers to it, as well as that of Protestants. One who disdained the
thought of diluting Catholic doctrine to suit the delicate palate of
the age, who was regardless of the opinion of men, who plumed his
pinions for a kind of audacious flight into the lofty ether in which
saints alone are wont to soar and poise in contemplation, who threw
off all drapery from the glorious form of Catholic truth, and loudly
called on all men to gaze and worship, is the one who wins the
confidence and captivates the hearts of the greatest number of the
church’s lost and estranged children. We trust that his works will win
their way, and exercise their gentle, attractive force still more
extensively among evangelical Protestants. The recommendation of a
Presbyterian pastor, which goes forth under the sanction of Princeton,
will, we trust, produce its full effect, and excite the pious
curiosity of a great number of readers to become acquainted with the
biography and writings of the gifted, lovely, holy poet, priest, and
teacher, who has been called the Bernardine of Sienna of the
nineteenth century.
We have endeavored to bring out into strong relief what is really of
the greatest moment in the article of the _Princeton Review_, and what
the weak though violent counter-protests only make more prominent and
definite, that the concessions to the personal and doctrinal purity of
Father Faber are a yielding of the most grievous of the charges against 414
Catholics and their religion. It argues, we hope, a change in the
spirit and manner of maintaining the controversy with us which is
coming on. The teaching of Father Faber is admitted to contain the
“essential truths of the Gospel,” and his most distinctively Catholic
and Roman doctrines are admitted to be “not incompatible with piety.”
The conclusion is rigidly logical and irresistible, that Calvinists
must consider the controversy between us as one not respecting
_directly_, but only _indirectly_, the essential, fundamental dogmas
and precepts of the Gospel and Christianity. Let them, then, realize
this view to themselves, think in accordance with it, and regulate
their conduct and language in harmony with it. Let them no longer
ignore and practically abjure the Christian church from the fourth
century to the present moment, and confine their sympathies to an
imaginary primitive period and the sphere of modern Protestantism. Let
them study ancient, mediæval, and modern Catholic authors, read
history and theology, and learn to discuss the real issue with us. The
Chinese method of warfare, charging upon us with shields aloft,
bearing the hideous figure of the beast with seven heads and ten
horns, with outcries and shouts of derision and vituperation, will not
answer any longer. Those who choose to follow such tactics will soon
be forced to throw their shoes into the air and take to flight. It is
too late to frighten even Presbyterian children with such nonsense.
The weakness and helplessness of the poor Irish Catholics, and of the
handful of Catholics in England, made them for a long time the easy
victims of oppression and calumny. But the day for treating the
Catholics of the English-speaking world with haughtiness and contumely
has passed by. We desire, however, no revenge or retaliation. We ask
nothing of Protestants except that they will seek the truth. In the
words of Montalembert: “The truth, and nothing but the truth--justice,
and nothing but justice--let that be our sole revenge!”[97]
[94] _The Princeton Review_, October, 1871. Art. II.:
_The Life and Letters of Frederick William Faber._ By
Rev. William Scribner.
[95] _Lecture IV._, p. 206. Dublin. Third Edition.
[96] We do not intend to affirm positively that Gioberti
formally renounced the communion and faith of the Catholic
Church, a matter about which there hangs a great obscurity.
But his violent enmity to the Jesuits and his revolutionary
principles in general would have certainly led him to attack
the clergy and the existing order in the most vulnerable
part.
[97] _Monks of the West_, Introduction, last paragraph.
----------
LIMITATION.
Through limit and hindrance man works: no limit hath God, and no need;
But his wind is musical only when prisoned in the cane of the reed.
AUBREY DE VERE.
----------
MODERN OPERA.[98] 415
Nothing better pictures an epoch than the art and literature which it
produces. The great characters, religious and political, immortalized
by history, have always been surrounded by a cluster of noble
geniuses, artistic and literary. The generosity and magnanimity of
heroes is reproduced in the sublime purity of the works of art of
their epoch. Nobility of art bears testimony to the excellence of
morals. Our century is no exception to this. Confusion of principles
in politics and religion is accompanied by an analogous overturning of
morals, of art, and of literature. We are living in a time of general
depravity; at least, it is so as regards those who pretend to march at
the head of modern civilization. But their depraved literature, their
shameless arts, exercise their disastrous influence over those who
would wish to resist the current of the bad passions of the day. It is
to them that M. Stein gives warning of the danger, in depicting the
bad conditions into which dramatic music has degenerated. It is a
study of contemporaneous manners, not so much from an artistic as from
a religious and political point of view.
GENTLEMEN: A few days ago, it was shown you here how considerable is
the influence of the fine arts upon the moral life of mankind; it was
demonstrated how they can guide the human sentiment towards different
ends, good or bad.
You will permit me now to call your attention to a branch of the fine
arts which, more now than ever, and more than all others, exercises
its influence on the moral life of the people, and which merits thus
the highest degree of interest from this assembly. It is dramatic
poetry allied to musical art, that is, the Opera.
You all know the great extent of this branch, which has captivated the
favor of the public to a degree perfectly exceptional, and which has
banished to the second place all other branches of dramatic art.
The reasons of this extraordinary success are not so well known. The
excessive predilection of public theatregoers for the opera is of
quite recent date. Only forty years ago, the masterpieces of dramatic
poetry enjoyed the same favor as those of dramatic music. By the side
of Mozart and Carl Maria von Weber, Shakespeare and Schiller were
found on a footing of equality; to-day they must retire before
Meyerbeer and Offenbach, and be contented to remain eclipsed by these
favorites of the public. If you question on the subject enthusiastic
lovers of the opera, they will answer that, in our day, opera has made
progress so considerable, and attained to such perfection, that the
understanding of music is so general among the people, that this
predilection of an enlightened public for dramatic music is the most
natural thing in the world. You know there never can be question of
any other than an enlightened public; for it cannot be doubted that
every man who frequents the theatre is a man of progress. The gallery 416
represents the preparatory school; the boxes, the pupils in
philosophy.
However, it is difficult to believe that artistic taste and love of
music are the sole motives which cause the public to fill the halls of
the opera-house. Forty years ago, the works of Mozart, of Weber, and
other masters were well appreciated by connoisseurs, but they did not
meet with as much success from the public as modern operas enjoy
to-day. Or is it rather that Donizetti and Verdi, Meyerbeer and
Offenbach, understand the art better than Mozart and Weber, Spohr and
Spontini? We cannot admit it. The reason must be elsewhere, and
surely, gentlemen, you wish to know it.
In a pamphlet published ten years ago, Richard Wagner says: “The
essential foundation of art, as practised generally in our day, is
industry: its moral end is gain, its æsthetic intention to kill
_ennui_.”
This richly endowed artist has in view his colleagues in dramatic
music, the composers of opera. He knew these men well, and understood
himself how they set to work. But in the words quoted he has perfectly
explained the end and tendency of modern opera.
The end is no other than gain; and, as means conducive to this end,
effect is necessary, which must be attained at any price.
Industrialism, that tyrant of our age, has also submitted the opera to
its power, and under its domination the art exhausts itself forcibly,
because tied to the fly-wheel of the artistic fabric. To produce
effect, to surprise and bring out something which has not yet been
seen--these are the objects of actual dramatic music. To this end is
sacrificed not only art, but also all that exists--religion, politics,
morality, and truth. This unfortunate course has been inaugurated by
the Italians. In their dramatic works, Donizetti and Verdi have sought
but for effect, theatrical success, and to this end have completely
sacrificed dramatic truth. For love of effect, they have trodden upon
law, morals, and even reason. The domination of sense over mind is the
characteristic feature of their music.
But it is among the French that this style has attained its greatest
perfection, and even among the German composers, who, for love of
effect, have Frenchified themselves. The most skilful author of scores
of operas, Scribe, has offered his pen to these greedy musicians for
money, and shows his readiness to sacrifice all to it. Scribe
understood the Parisian public for which he worked. He knew its
weakness, and he has succeeded in imposing the vitiated taste of that
public on the whole civilized world.
In the texts furnished by Scribe, all is intended for scenic
effect--all means are employed to reach this end. The requirements of
dramatic truth and of morality, even of good sense, are sacrificed to
the one end, effect. Frivolous and immodest allusions, which offer
gross food to the impure fancy, and necessarily soil the imagination
of innocence; doubtful scenes, as, for example, in _Fra Diavolo_,
where a young girl unrobes and goes to bed before the audience;
scenes of the bath, as in the _Huguenots_; scenes of seduction, as in
_Robert le Diable_; political allusions, exaltation of and homage to
the revolutionary passions, as in the _Muette de Portici_; base
flattery to the irreligious opinions and prejudices of the day; even,
in fine, scenes peculiarly religious, that are put into the piece to
produce striking contrasts, and bring out voluptuous scenes
better--these are the artistic means of which these poets and composers 417
have made use to produce effect, and to make money with this effect.
Thanks to these industrials of the opera, it happens that in France a
new opera has no longer chance of success, if it be not abundantly
provided with these means for exciting bad passions.
Now, how is it in Germany? The German good-nature imitates everything
of which the French set the example. It allows itself to be deceived,
even to the point of finding _naïveté_ where there is nothing but
immodesty. It thinks even that it recognizes a religious character in
works which do but abuse and vilify religion. The German good-nature
imagines that these creators of French art have carried dramatic music
to its highest perfection, whilst in reality they are merely skilful
workmen, and often something much worse.
If it be denied that our so-called artistic and intelligent public is
intoxicated with drinking from the poisoned cup of the French opera,
it must be conceded that in Germany there are still many men who know
and love art, and who therefore, at the start, do not sacrifice to
this musical Baal, but render testimony to the truth with regard to
the modern opera. They do not trouble themselves about the shouts and
railleries of the crowd, who are unreflecting, and seek in art only
sensual enjoyment and pastime.
Permit me here to recall the memory of a generous man, a grand master
of the musical art, whom the city of Düsseldorf formerly counted among
its citizens--to wit, Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. From the letters he has
left, we know that, during his artistic career, he desired earnestly
to try his creative power on the opera, but could not succeed because,
notwithstanding his multiplied efforts, he could not find a text to
please him. During his sojourn in Paris, his father wrote him to
employ Scribe to furnish him a text, to make the composition at Paris,
and to have the joint work performed there. This letter of the father
betrays a man well versed in business. In his answer, Mendelssohn
first speaks of the difficulties which are raised against strangers
who wish to represent their works in Paris; then says: “It must be
added that, among the French, the principal condition is one to which
we must always be opposed, even when the epoch requires us to be ready
to make concessions to the taste of the day. This essential condition
is immorality. I have no music for that. It is ignoble. If the present
age exacts such requirements of the opera, I renounce it for ever. I
prefer to compose religious music.”
Honor to the honest man! Honor to the artist who in acting thus
honored himself--who refused to gain money and to make himself famous
by selling for so base a use the divine gift which God had given him!
As Mendelssohn indicates here, it is particularly Meyerbeer who has
devoted himself to this bad style. In his youth, this talented artist
had composed several operas which had not been favorably received. He
had tried without success in the German school as well as in the
Italian. He gave himself up to the mercantile style, and his career
was brilliant. Meanwhile, Meyerbeer employed Scribe to write his
texts, and these two minds understood each other wonderfully. The one
furnished piquant scenes, without regard to the exigencies of reason
and morals, and threw in a profusion of seductions for all the
passions. He set to work all the wonders of decoration. The other
illuminated the whole with seductive music, which sought but for 418
effect, and had no regard to dramatic truth. In this manner, Meyerbeer
has become not only the most famous, but also--and this is the
principal thing--the richest musician of the entire world. He knows
his business, as no one before has known it.
Meyerbeer is distinguished particularly for his predilection for
religious scenes. With consummate skill, he uses them to produce
striking contrasts. None of his last operas fail in this spicy
seasoning. As a Jew, he is impartial among the different Christian
sects. He maligns and mocks them all. In _Robert le Diable_, it is
Catholicism which is put under contribution to furnish material for
his religious scenes; in the _Huguenots_, he abuses Protestantism in
the same manner and to the same end.
Marcel, a personage insignificant and dull, a fanatical Huguenot,
interrupts everywhere the action of the piece with a Protestant
canticle, always inopportunely and without reason, but producing
always a grand effect by contrast. It is the air of the canticle of
Luther: “Our God is a tower of strength.” The success of the
_Huguenots_, this opera being so much a favorite, rests almost
entirely on the contrasts produced by this canticle.
In the first act, a merry company of cavaliers is found at table
drinking and singing a riotous song. Marcel, the incomprehensible
solitary, proceeds to thunder out, with a loud voice accompanied with
brazen instruments: “Hear me, strong God! My voice is raised to thee.”
This canticle, in the midst of jovial drinkers, intermingled with the
song they are singing--how can it fail of effect? In the second act,
there is a very violent scene. At the instigation of Queen Margaret,
the Count St. Bris has proposed his daughter to the Chevalier Raoul,
who refuses her. Valentina, the daughter, despised and scorned,
complains; Queen Margaret preaches peace; all shout and fence, and
Marcel adds his chorus in a thundering voice, “God, our guard and
protection, listen to our cries!” Is not this a shameful prostitution
of sacred things? But it produces effect; and our opera-going public,
which boasts of its delicate taste, is enchanted with it, and imagines
that the violent impression produced by these contrasts is a religious
and edifying sentiment.
In _L’Africaine_, the last production of Meyerbeer, he introduces us
immediately, in the first act, to a sitting of the secret council of
the King of Portugal. It is understood that the grand inquisitor and a
certain number of cardinals play the principal _rôle_. Finally, Vasco
de Gama is condemned, loaded with chains, and thrown into the deepest
dungeon. Why? Because he has affirmed the existence of distant and
unknown lands of which the Scripture does not speak. You know well
that ecclesiastical dignitaries have always had the habit of refuting
with chains and a prison novel ideas and scientific discoveries. At
least, by this scene the public is convinced of it, with the aid of
stunning music. This same opera, so much approved, contains also a
very piquant amorous intrigue. There are several choruses of prayer,
then a large vessel on the stage, and finally a manchineel tree, which
spreads death. We must agree that it is the possible and the
impossible.
However, it is not the Jew Meyerbeer who has pushed to the extreme his
musical industry. The Jew Offenbach has gone much further. The former
speculated principally on the curiosity of the unreflecting masses;
but while his art is under subjection to frivolity, he still seeks 419
to preserve a certain decorum. But Offenbach has got rid of the last
remains of modesty and propriety. Yet the Christian public besiege the
workshop, and applaud with frenzy the musical indecencies of this
industrious Jew.
_Orphées aux Enfers_, _La Belle Hélène_, _La Vie Parisienne_, such, for
several years, have been the favorite works with a public in advance
of its age. These operas have been played every day for weeks and
months on every stage; and often there are disputes over the tickets
for these representations. Of course, it is all owing to the beautiful
music.
With these impure works, dramatic music has attained the extreme of
degradation. After having been lowered by Meyerbeer and the modern
composers of France and Italy to the rank of an _equestrienne_, who
rides round the circus in elegant costume, the muse of music has been
thrown to the demi-monde by Offenbach. She could not fall lower.
Gentlemen, permit me to repeat the question which was laid before you
in the beginning. What is the reason that modern opera has gained the
favor of the public to so eminent a degree that not only the classical
works of this kind, but also the masterpieces of declaimed drama, are
banished from the theatre? Now, we can answer this question. The
reason of this surprising phenomenon is that, by the modern opera, art
has entered into the service of sensuality, art has lost all generous
and elevated motives. It has tasked itself to amuse a public depraved
by pleasures of every kind--to satisfy curiosity, to flatter the bad
passions, the errors and prejudices of the age, and to make a bad use
of the questions of the day.
Those who still doubt what I say have but to notice the intimate union
of the ballet with the opera which the prevailing taste dictates as an
inexorable law. In most cases, the ballet has no logical or artistic
connection with the opera. It is a foreign element which imposes
itself upon musical and dramatic action, and which is given with the
avowed intention of exciting voluptuousness. Reason is forced to
despise the ballet; moral sentiment condemns it; musical art is
obliged to lament over it as a sad aberration; nevertheless, modern
opera has concluded an alliance for life with this frivolous creation
of the present time. You know the proverb, “Tell me what company you
keep: I will tell you what you are.”
Our friends of the opera do not like to be told these things.
Judgments like these are for them the expressions of a mind opposed to
modern civilization, and lost in obsolete ideas. If one of these
partisans of modern opera hears what I have just said, he will
certainly say that the darkness of my ultramontane soul is blacker
than the color of my robe. He will maintain that it is only æsthetic
education, artistic sense, enthusiasm for music, which draws him and
his equals to similar works; and, nevertheless, the old operas which
are veritable works of art, but which do not contain any piquant
subject and little food for sensuality, leave them cold and
indifferent in the depth of their hearts. The symphonies of Beethoven
and Mozart cause these lovers of art to yawn, and the name alone of an
oratorio makes their flesh creep.
What position have we Christians to take, in order to oppose these
alarming phenomena of the present day? A critic of the seventeenth
century, named Wehrenfels, has laid down this principle for dramatic
art in general: “Finally, all our dramatic representations should be 420
such that Plato could tolerate them in his republic, that Cato could
listen to them with pleasure, that vestals could witness them without
wounding their chastity, and, what is more important, that Christians
could listen to them.”
You will say this is too antiquated a principle. Among the greater
part of our amateurs at the theatre it will only provoke expressions
of doubt; they will say that this poor Wehrenfels is far behind modern
civilization. Notwithstanding, no one undertakes to refute this
principle, to demonstrate that these requirements are groundless. But
as long as they are not refuted, we must consider them justified, and
we ask if they should not be applied to the opera. Is not the drama
when sung to be submitted to the same true moral and æsthetic laws as
the drama recited?
To the phenomena of life as produced before our eyes, we apply the
scale of conscience and of reason. Why should it not be our right and
our duty to apply them also to the opera, and to regulate our conduct
from the result of such an examination? No one will deny that this
question is well founded. Nevertheless, it would meet with much
resistance. Our enthusiasts of the opera have tacitly agreed that,
where it is a question of opera, good sense and conscience should be
silent. But ourselves, gentlemen, ought never to abandon these
principles. We should no longer be Christians, if we did not apply to
the opera the principles we practise in our lives.
Let us, then, apply these principles to the music of our day. What
must we do if it be condemned for frivolity, for immodesty and abuse
of religious things? If we find that the scenes are arranged solely
with a view to effect, and in disregard of good sense and logic? If
reason and conscience, by common accord, condemn this degradation of
art, and the deception with which this degradation is presented as
veritable art? What must we do, in presence of these great accusations
against modern opera?
Would you condemn to silence your reason and your conscience because
you are promised amusement? Would you wish, as a return for your
money, to have sung on the stage words you despise, words you would
repulse if they were spoken? Would you put a temptation before your
children, in leading them to the opera--these same children whom you
tried to bring up in honesty, in religion, in piety, and the
observance of all Christian duties? Do you believe that at the opera,
where religion is made a plaything, where it is exposed to contempt,
attacked and calumniated, they will learn to esteem and to obey it?
Will they learn good morals, decency, and propriety from the dancers
of the ballet? It is sufficient to place before you these questions;
you will answer them yourselves. But why this severe criticism? What
will result from it?
Will my words succeed in turning dramatic music from its bad course,
and making it enter on a better? Will the thousands and thousands of
individuals who find their greatest pleasure in modern opera take
notice of them at all? I do not count upon that. But I hope with
confidence, gentlemen, that my words will engage you to examine more
closely the subject of which I have been treating. You will not form
your judgment from charlatans of criticism and enthusiastic partisans
of sensuality; but you will judge for yourselves, by vigorously
applying your Christian principles. If you are thus affected, my words
will have borne fruit.
[98] _Lecture of M. Stein, Curate of Cologne._ Delivered
before the Catholic Congress at Düsseldorf.
----------
THE STUDY OF SACRED HISTORY.[99] 421
It has been said that a distinguished English lady, remarkable for her
intelligence in the treatment of many questions affecting the
condition of the proletarian classes, and by whose persevering efforts
the erection and management of reformatories for juvenile offenders,
and industrial schools for that vagrant portion of the community known
in our civilized era as “street Arabs,” and who herself personally
superintended most admirably a reformatory for young girls in Bristol,
was accustomed to say to her visitors, in reply to their astonishment
at her wonderful perseverance and success: “Whenever I see anything
that I can call radically wrong, I never feel satisfied till I can
render to myself an intelligent reason why it has gone wrong; and
then, when I know what the causes are, I set myself to the task of
preventing, as far as possible, the occurrence of anything of the same
kind in the future.”
This practical view of the duties of life, which proved of such
benefit to the beneficiaries of that philanthropic lady, seems to have
been adopted by the author of the work before us, and to have been
applied on a more comprehensive scale. Becoming convinced, after long
investigation, that one of the evils which at present afflict society
arises out of spiritual ignorance of the history of the church and of
the pre-Christian era, instead of supinely contenting himself with
bemoaning the calamity, he set to work and produced a book which,
under its present modest title, contains a concise history not only of
the Catholic Church, but of the ways of God’s providence to man from
the creation, as far as they have been revealed to us through the
pages of Holy Writ and in the writings of ancient authorities. The
reverend author by this admirable work hoped, if he could not
contribute to dispel the mists of doubt and dissent now so widespread
in both hemispheres, to at least put into the hands of the rising
generation a preventive and an argument against those who would either
deny the existence of a revealed law, or, admitting, would pervert its
commands to their own weak or vicious purposes. His success so far has
been proportionate to his ability and purity of motive.
We are all aware that the best part of the Christian people has been
plunged into profound grief and stupefaction by the recent murder, or,
as the Holy Father more emphatically expressed it, the parricide of
the late Archbishop of Paris, and so many of his faithful clergy. Now,
who were the perpetrators of that most foul deed? In one sense,
certainly, not a wild, tumultuous mob, acting without system or
guidance, nor yet private assassins in the employment of the secret
societies, or moved thereto by personal malice or revenge. On the
contrary, the deed was done in the open day, by the arbitrary orders
of what was claimed to have been a regularly established government,
and executed by its armed soldiery, two of whom, even when about to
obey the mandates of their supposed superiors, knelt at the feet of 422
the holy prelate and begged his forgiveness for the crime they were
about to commit. It is not claimed by the apologists of the Communists
that their illustrious victims were guilty of any offence against the
state, or that even the form of a trial was accorded them; and yet
there are to be found many persons, considering themselves honorable
and intelligent, who openly or secretly applaud that glaring and cruel
act of injustice, and who thoroughly sympathize with the European
revolutionists--those enemies of all law, who, if they had the power,
would repeat in every city in Christendom the late disgraceful scenes
of Paris. It is a melancholy fact that outside the Catholic Church the
horrible murder of the venerable Archbishop Darboy and so many of his
clergy has been the cause of ill-disguised congratulation, not only
among those who are in direct affiliation with the revolutionists, but
amid the sects who profess to regard the Decalogue as part of their
fundamental doctrine. Have we yet heard from the thousands of pulpits
and hundreds of newspapers, occupied and controlled by the various
Protestant sects, one open and manly protest against the atrocious
criminals who have so recently sullied the fair fame of France by
deeds that would have disgraced the most degraded forms of savage
life? Not one.
A fact like this, so patent and portentous, while it shows how large a
portion of civilized society has fallen away from the plainest
teachings of Christian charity and justice, must necessarily lead to
the inquiry as to the best means of arresting, and, if possible,
correcting so monstrous an evil. Recognizing it as such, it is our
duty fearlessly and persistently to endeavor to correct it, for
“_Felix qui potuis rerum cognoscere causæ_” will always be a true
maxim, even when we are engaged in the study of the worst of human
miseries and disasters with a view to their alleviation.
In contemplating the many evils which now afflict Christian society,
the creation and formerly the obedient creature of the Catholic
Church, we must recollect that God has not given to his church the
gift of being the infallible preserver of the faith in every nation
and at all times, no more than she can guarantee to all people civil
order and wise government. There is no doubt that the church is the
tree set up in this world, the leaves of which are the health of
mankind, “_et quis tibi imputavit si perierint nationes quas tu
fecisti_” (Wisd. xii. 12); but who shall accuse her of countenancing
the disorders which have arisen through the rejection of her authority,
and to which she has ever been strenuously opposed? Our Lord himself
contemplates the rebellion of nations and people against his doctrine. To
the angel of the Church of Ephesus the Spirit said, “Be mindful from
whence thou hast fallen: and do penance, and resume thy first works. Or
if not, behold I come to thee and will move thy candlestick out of its
place, except thou dost penance” (Apoc. ii. 5). Even the presence of the
priesthood among us in adequate numbers is no assurance against schism
and infidelity. Though we may have every confidence in their sanctity and
the soundness of their teachings, we cannot always be certain that the
duties of their holy calling will be performed with uniform discretion,
intelligence, and zeal, or that the hearts of their congregations will
respond on all occasions and amid all circumstances to the teachings of
their pastors. It is true that at all times and in all places the
soldiers of the Cross have proved themselves the faithful guardians of
piety and morality, but it must be admitted that occasionally, 423
particularly in Europe, they have not attached sufficient importance
to the necessity of the intellectual training of the masses and to the
wonderful advances of the human mind in abstract and practical
sciences. What the Abbé Fleury wrote of a past generation is
partially, at least, true in this. In the preface to his _Historical
Catechism_, he says:
“We see a great number of devout persons who have read great
numbers of spiritual books, and are familiar with a large variety
of devotional practices, but who are totally wanting in an
understanding of the very groundwork of religion.”
Fleury’s testimony receives a remarkable corroboration in the
circumstance that, in the last century, whoever derided the
traditional belief in God and in the Christian revelation acquired
credit with the multitude as an “_esprit fort_.” In short, the idea of
there being so much as the possibility of an “_esprit fort_” who
believed in God and who _ex animo_ professed the faith of the church,
appeared to be unknown, and the universal notion in France was that
the choice consisted in being feeble and pious or strong-minded and
atheistical. Under the influence of this notion, the principal part of
the male population of France fell away from the faith, and it has
required the persistent efforts of at least two generations of
priests, and with but partial success, to lead them back to the
church. Religion in Great Britain during the past century is known to
have largely taken its complexion from France, and it is remarkable
that the bulk of the English Protestants affected to form precisely
the same estimate of it, and that it was a power inimical to the
cultivation of the understanding and a decided enemy of knowledge and
progress. The same phenomenon appears in Italy. The Italian people are
still deeply attached to the traditions of the Catholic faith, but the
popular idea of the Catholic religion, misled by the slanders and
misrepresentations of the revolutionists, is that it is the religion
of the timid, the feeble, and the pious, that its wants are limited to
functions and processions, beads and prayer-books, or what would be
rather scoffingly called “_roba di pietà_,” and that it is in no way
conscious of any wants proper to a manly understanding, and
consequently never expected to take any pains to satisfy them. In
Germany, there are perfectly analogous symptoms. Catholics in some
parts of that great empire bear the contemptuous name of
_Dunkelmänner_, men of darkness; and they are looked upon, not merely
by the positive enemies of all religion, but by the busy throng, as
certainly no friends to the legitimate progress and cultivation of the
gifts of the understanding.
The consequences of these disastrous tendencies to fall off from the
practice of the virtues and observances of the church are apparent to
all thinking men, and, if not checked, will have an equally marked
effect on the morals and faith of future generations. To some extent,
we humbly submit, they are due to a want of thorough education, not
only spiritually but humanly, among a large number of Catholics, who,
not deficient in piety and the desire to live according to the
precepts of Christianity, are too often led away by the sophistries
and superior knowledge--real or affected--of the opponents of their
faith. Learning is said to be the handmaiden of religion--and is never
so brilliant as when employed in her service, while religion,
profiting by her assistance, moves on from one triumph to another. It 424
does not appear to be a part of the providence of God that man should
simply grow into a knowledge of the doctrines of the church, in the
same manner as he advances to bodily maturity, but by intelligent and
persevering teaching and diligent practice. In our world, every year
brings new-comers on the stage, and the message to the Church of
Ephesus was, “_Age pœnitentiam et prima opera fac_.” The Catholic
clergy inherit a tradition, long anterior to that of the past century,
of being the patrons and the cultivators of the human mind, and they
still should remember these true and ancient glories of their sacred
calling. The language of the sacred liturgy on the day of Pentecost is
beautifully expressive on this subject:
“_Da tuis fidelibus_
_In te confitentibus_
_Sacrum septenarium._”
_Sacrum Septenarium_--the sacred seven gifts of the Holy Ghost,
amongst which we find the “spirit of understanding and of knowledge.”
All the gifts of the Holy Ghost doubtless require to receive their due
share of honor and cultivation. But in a generation which has gone so
widely and so terribly wrong by the way of a perverted and deceived
intellect, the cause of faith in the world demands that the battle be
fought with a special determination on the ground of the intelligence.
If Satan relies on the perversion of the mind for leading them away
from belief in the truth and divinity of the revelation brought by
Moses, and perfected by the coming and ministry of one greater than
Moses, St. Michael must contend with Satan for the possession of the
body of Moses. The more the spirit of deception that has gone abroad
seeks to discredit the Mosaic revelation, which is the forerunner in
the world of the revelation of Jesus Christ, the more we must
diligently persevere and insist that all who are willing to listen
should stir up within themselves the gifts of the spirit of
understanding and knowledge, and qualify themselves to resist and
confront the spirit of error wherever they meet with it and on all
fitting occasions. Every Catholic family ought to be a centre or focus
of Christian information. In every household there ought to be books
containing the narrative of the works of God through the line of his
great saints, beginning from the sacred narrative of Moses downwards
to the present time. Sacred history is the true tower of strength to
the cause of faith.
This study should not, as it has heretofore generally been, confined
to ancient history; for, though we may find in the Old Testament the
wonderful working of God in his intercourse with his creatures, and
see developed and completed his works and promises to his chosen
people, we have, under the new dispensation and in the history of the
Catholic Church, as indubitable proofs of the promises and fulfilment
of them in the fulness of time by our divine Maker. The history of the
Popes, for example, from St. Peter to Pius IX., is replete with
providential incidents, astonishing the worldly and baffling the
so-called wisdom of the sceptical. The perpetual rejuvenation of the
church herself when apparently crushed and disintegrated beneath the
load of kingly oppression and the lawlessness of the mob, is in itself
not only a perpetual miracle, but the evident fulfilment of the
promises of the Founder to be with her all days even to the
consummation of the world. The lives of the grand throng of saints,
martyrs, confessors, and missionaries--the glory and pride of the
church--their sufferings, triumphs, and miracles; their love of art 425
and literature, and all that makes life holy and beautiful, are
fraught with lessons before which even the story of Abraham’s
sacrifice and Joseph’s forgiveness sink into comparative
insignificance. Sacred history should be read as a whole, from the
beginning of time to the present day, giving to the more ancient part
its proper share of attention, not only for its own sake but as
prefiguring the more perfect system of Christianity. But the history
of the Church deserves and should receive our chiefest and most marked
attention.
The book of the Rev. Henry Formby, which, under its simple title,
contains a concise and chronological narrative of sacred history from
the creation down to our own times, in this respect is one of the most
useful publications that has recently appeared from the English press,
and, though but an abridgment of a much more voluminous work on the
same subject, it preserves all the essential features of the original
with singular simplicity and lucidity of style. The title gives but a
faint idea of its merits, for in truth it is not a mere collection of
stories in the general acceptation of that term, but short, succinct,
and correct historical sketches of events related in the Old
Testament, and a condensed and necessarily short history of the church
from its foundation. The arrangement of the subject is admirable, and,
in view of the vast field of Biblical lore to be traversed, and the
numerous historical facts of the first importance to be touched on, at
least in the confined limits of one volume, there are displayed a
clearness of narration, and a nice appreciation of the salient points
in the spiritual progress of the human race, that make the book easy
to be read and understood by even the most ordinarily instructed
person. In fact, if the author had substituted “pictures” for
“stories” in his title-page, he would have been more correct.
A general knowledge of the history of the creation, and of God’s once
chosen people, the Jews, as well as an acquaintance with that of the
church herself, the perfection of what was imperfectly prefigured
under the old dispensation, ought to be an essential ingredient in the
education of every Catholic child and of every adult, no matter what
may be his condition in life; but heretofore the undertaking has been
so laborious on account of the want of elementary books on those
all-important subjects, that but little was generally known of the
workings of Providence in ancient times, and the typical significance
of many of the events related in the Old Testament, except by the
learned few. Even the early history of the church has been practically
a sealed book to the English-speaking masses, whose ideas of her long
years of suffering, persecution, and final triumph have been of the
most indefinite and oftentimes erroneous character. We have to thank
Father Formby for supplying this defect in our Catholic literature,
and in future there can be no excuse for ignorance of at least the
origin, labors, and progress of the religion we profess. In about one
hundred and sixty pages, the half of his book, devoted to the
Christian era, he presents to us very complete and exact, if not very
elaborate, views of the leading events in the history of the church
for over eighteen centuries. In addition to this, he has appended to
many of the sections in the part occupied with the pre-Christian
period short moral reflections, and institutes comparisons between the
old and new order of things, which are not only edifying, but highly
instructive, particularly to young readers. For example, with
reference to the days of the creation of the world, he remarks: 426
“Jesus Christ rested in the tomb from the work of redemption on
the Sabbath or seventh day, and arose again from the dead on the
first day of the week. For this reason, the Christians no longer
keep holy the original Sabbath, but the Lord’s day, or first day
of the week, in memory of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.”
And again, after relating the dispersion of the builders of the Tower
of Babel, he draws this beautiful comparison:
“The nations of the world suffered a great punishment upon their
pride in the confusion of their speech, and in their separation
one from another. Jesus Christ has in part removed this
punishment; for he has again made all the nations of the earth
one religious family in his church, under the supreme government
of the successor of St. Peter, and as partakers of one and the
same sacrifice at the altar.”
In allusion to the well-known story of the sale of Joseph to the
Egyptians by his brethren, he says:
“Joseph, hated by his brethren on account of his love of virtue
and innocence, and sold by them for a slave into the land of
Egypt, is a striking figure of Jesus Christ hated by his own
people on account of his love of justice and sanctity, and
delivered up by them bound into the hands of the Roman governor,
Pontius Pilate.”
Father Formby’s diction and treatment of his subject are varied and
suited to the epoch which he describes. In the early pages of his
book, he adopts the figurative orientalisms of the Hebrew writers, but
further on he sobers down to the less florid and more matter-of-fact
style of modern times. His descriptions of the crusades and the origin
and growth of the religious orders are exceedingly graphic and
correct, though of course merely outlines of what would fill books
enough to make up an ordinary library if written in detail, and his
summing up of the so-called reformation is deserving of particular
notice.
“There is something worthy of being carefully observed as regards
the Protestantism which began in the sixteenth century to cause
whole nations and peoples to renounce the faith and discipline of
the Catholic Church. But as other great heresies, such as that of
Arius, have had a similar ruinous effect in causing a great
falling off from faith without the end of the world following in
their wake, Protestantism cannot simply for this reason by itself
be understood to be the sign to which St. Paul refers. What is
remarkable, however, in Protestantism is, that though Dr. Martin
Luther and the others who were leaders at the time formed sects,
the disciples of which called themselves by the names of
their masters--as Lutherans from Luther, Calvinists from
Calvin--Protestantism has long ago ceased to be the name of any
particular doctrine. Lutherans, Calvinists, Anabaptists,
Socinians, and all the different sects which arose at this time,
as regards what is meant by Protestantism, are just as good
Protestants the one as the other. They may, and do, dispute with
each other about what is to be held to be true as Christian
doctrine, but as regards Protestantism they are all quite agreed.
How come, then, those who are completely at war with each other
about Christian doctrine to agree completely about
‘Protestantism’? The reason is, that Protestantism proper has but
one solitary doctrine and one solitary precept, viz., ‘_Depart
from the Roman Church_.’ All who satisfy this one precept entitle
themselves to the name of ‘Protestant.’ It is true that, up to
the present time, those who have protested against the Roman
Church have generally had the credit of deserving to be, in some
way or other, known as Christians; but this is rapidly ceasing to
be the case. ‘Protestantism’ has now come to be the name of the
confederacy of almost all without exception whose cry is, ‘Depart
from the Roman Church,’ so that there would seem to be no
rashness in recognizing it as the departure (_discessio_) which
St. Paul points to as the sign indicating the world to be drawing 427
to a close.”
In addition to the merits and attractions of this valuable
contribution to contemporaneous Catholic literature, we observe that
most of the leading incidents recorded in sacred history are
illustrated by wood-cuts very handsomely designed and executed, so
that the eye as well as the understanding is made familiar with the
historical places, incidents, and characters sought to be portrayed,
and the frontispiece is a large and excellently clear engraving of
Jerusalem. The growth of Catholic literature in England, where even in
the recollection of many of us Catholicity, confined to the humble
minority, was banned and ostracized by author and reader alike, is one
of the most healthful signs of the times, and it will be a great
dereliction of duty on our part here in America if we do not profit by
the labors of our co-religionists abroad, hoping some day to
reciprocate the favor.
[99] _The Pictorial Bible and Church History Stories,
Abridged._ By the Rev. Henry Formby. New York: The
Catholic Publication Society. 1871. 8vo, pp. 320.
----------
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
ESSAYS CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL. By John Henry Newman, formerly Fellow
of Oriel College, Oxford. Vols. I. and II., 8vo. London: Basil
Montagu Pickering, 196 Piccadilly. 1871. New York: For sale by The
Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.
“These essays, with the exception of the last, were written while
their author was Fellow of Oriel, and a member of the Established
Church. They are now, after many years, republished, mainly for the
following reason: He cannot destroy what he has once put into print:
‘Litera scripta manet.’ He might suppress it for a time; but, sooner
or later, his power over it will cease. And then, if it is, either in
its matter or its drift, adapted to benefit the cause which it was
intended to support when it was given to the world, it will be
republished in spite of his later disavowal of it. In order to
anticipate the chance of its being thus used after his death, the only
way open to him is, while living, to show why it has ceased to approve
itself to his own judgment.... This, accordingly, has been his attempt
in the present edition of these essays, as far as they demand it of
him; and he is sanguine that he has been able to reduce what is
uncatholic in them, whether in argument or in statement, to the
position of those ‘difficultates’ which figure in dogmatic treatises
of theology, and which are elaborately drawn out, and set forth to
best advantage, in order that they may be the more carefully and
satisfactorily answered.”--_Author’s Preface._
Anything from Dr. Newman’s pen has a strong personal claim upon the
interest of Catholics. The volumes before us contain fifteen essays,
written at different times between the years 1828 and 1846. The
subjects are mainly connected with the intellectual progress at that
time developing in the mind of the author. The volumes are necessary
to a collection of his works, and also to a perfect acquaintance with
classic English literature.
THE FOURFOLD SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD. By Henry Edward, Archbishop of
Westminster. London: Burns, Oates & Co. For sale by The Catholic
Publication Society, New York.
The rapidity with which volume follows volume from the prolific pen of 428
the Archbishop of Westminster has often astonished our mind. From
hints given in the preface to this last publication, we get, in part,
an explanation. It appears that his Grace employs a skilful
stenographer to take down and then copy for the press his
extemporaneous lectures. In this way, one who has a mind stored with
the acquisitions of a lifetime, and is gifted so unusually with the
_copia fundi_, can accomplish what could otherwise be done only
by a man of more leisure than is enjoyed by the active prelate of the
London diocese.
These four lectures make a pendant to the last four published, and
complete the general view of the subject. They are like all the works
of Archbishop Manning, of which our opinion has been so lately
expressed. We need, therefore, only to announce the publication of
these new lectures, and our readers will understand for themselves the
value and interest they possess.
THE TRADITION OF THE SYRIAC CHURCH OF ANTIOCH, concerning the
Primacy and the Prerogatives of St. Peter, and of his successors,
the Roman Pontiffs. By the Most Rev. Cyril Behnam Benni, Syriac
Archbishop of Mossul (Nineveh). London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1871. For
sale by The Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.
This unique production symbolizes the contrariety and unity of the
East and West in a singular manner. It begins at both ends, and
finishes in the middle, where the appendices usually put at the end
are snugly sandwiched between the Syriac original and the English
translation. This translation has been made by the Rev. Joseph
Gagliardi, and is, of course, at that end of the volume which, to our
Occidental habits of thought, appears to be the natural beginning. The
Syriac begins at the opposite end, and thus both languages have their
own way, and the book will answer equally well for the reader in
Nineveh and the one in London. The tradition of the Church of
Antioch, where St. Peter established his first see, is scarcely
inferior in interest and importance to that of the Roman Church. The
learned prelate has gathered together the best and most authentic
testimonies to the supremacy of the Roman See from documents both
ancient and modern, liturgies, official acts, and writings of prelates
and learned men, both Catholic and schismatical. The references are
most carefully given, and the whole work is critical and scholarly. It
is published in a very handsome and ornamental style, and cannot fail
to interest the curious, the learned, and all who are engaged in
theological pursuits. The testimonies to the authority of the Holy See
which it contains are very valuable, and as they are given in a clear
English translation, methodically arranged, and accompanied by full
explanations, they are intelligible to any person of ordinary
education. We cannot flatter ourselves that we have very many among
our subscribers who will be able to appreciate the beauties of the
Syriac original.
THE LIFE OF JESUS THE CHRIST. By Henry Ward Beecher. Illustrated.
New York: J. B. Ford & Co. 1871. Vol. I.
The publishers of this work have given it a very handsome exterior,
and adorned it with a number of excellent illustrations of scenes and
places in Palestine. The attempts at reproducing some of the most
celebrated representations of our Lord are, however, not successful.
As for the work itself, it is an effort to imitate the fascinating and
popular style of Renan in such a way as to satisfy those Protestants
who call themselves Evangelical. That the author has the art of
pleasing the multitude cannot be questioned. That he is an artist in
the highest and truest sense we cannot admit. And, so far as more
solid qualities are concerned, he is not to be compared for a moment,
in respect to that erudition which brings rabbinical and classical 429
treasures to enrich and illustrate the Evangelical narrative, with Dr.
Sepp, whose _Leben Jesu_ still remains both the most valuable and the
most interesting of all works of this class thus far produced, in
spite of much that is fanciful and visionary.
If the doctrine of this book were sound, we should hail its
publication with joy, even although we could not consider it to be a
literary masterpiece. Even if it contained only the errors common to
Protestants; still, if it were sound on the great central truth of the
Incarnation; one might think it likely to be useful in preserving
among Protestants the true doctrine of the divinity and humanity of
Christ contained in their formularies. As it is, we must condemn it as
more mischievous and absurd than the _Vie de Jésus_ of Renan. Of
course, no Catholic who has any regard for his own principles will
ever think of looking for religious instruction or edification in any
book proceeding from Mr. Beecher’s pen. The evil which this shallow
and utterly heretical production, coming forth in such a taking guise,
will cause will be among Protestants. One class of them--those who
swallow its honey with pleasure--will take in a deadly poison of
heresy. Another class, who will look at its doctrine coolly and
critically, will be strengthened in their tendency to rationalism and
unbelief by its crude absurdity.
Mr. Beecher teaches a more gross and monstrous doctrine than that of
Arius, Nestorius, or Appolinaris. It is, namely, that God contracted
and diminished his divine nature within the mental and physical limits
of manhood. God became the human soul of a human body. This is the
anthropomorphism of Swedenborg. It destroys all true conceptions both
of the human and the divine nature of our Lord. Pantheism is better
than this. The reasoning and exegesis on which this revolting doctrine
is based are not worthy of a moment’s notice. All is mere superficial,
rhetorical, sentimental talk, without a shred of philosophy or
theology. We shall look with some curiosity to see what judgment the
Episcopalian and Presbyterian divines of the stricter sort will
pronounce on this latest product of the pseudo-Evangelical school.
What those of them who have some theological knowledge will think, we
know very well; but we are desirous of seeing whether they will
express their thoughts in clear and emphatic language, and caution the
Protestant public against a doctrine which subverts the Nicene Creed
and the Presbyterian Confession of Faith, to say nothing of other
formularies which are essentially the same with these.
Behold a new proof of the utter insufficiency of the text of Scripture
alone by itself even to preserve the orthodox doctrine after it has
been fully presented to the mind! How much more, then, to give it at
first hand! What the orthodox Protestants still retain of the faith is
the faith of creeds, councils, and tradition, and the exercise of
private judgment on the text of Scripture is destroying it fast.
CINEAS; OR, ROME UNDER NERO. From the French of J. M. Villefranche.
1 vol. 12mo. Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham. 1871.
If we except _Fabiola_, _Callista_, and _Dion_, we feel no hesitation
in saying that _Cineas_ is equal to any production of its kind yet
offered to the English reader. In this tale, history and tradition are
interwoven with fiction, and the result is a graphic sketch of
Christianity in the apostolic ages. The portico, the Pantheon, the
temple, and the catacomb are brought upon the stage, and made to
represent their parts. The scene changes from the Circus Maximus to
the Mamertine, from Rome to Jerusalem, from Jerusalem to Athens; and
at each change of scene the infant church appears clothed in new 430
beauty, in new holiness, in new strength. It is much to be desired
that Catholics of the present day should become acquainted with the
religious life of their brethren of the early church. No other study
is so well calculated to enliven our faith, animate our hope, inflame
our charity, and incite us to that heroic virtue so necessary to
perseverance in the present age. _Cineas_ tends to promote this study,
and as such we welcome it, commend it to the perusal of every
Catholic, and thank the translator and publisher for the care with
which they have performed their respective tasks.
THE LETTERS OF MADAME DE SEVIGNE TO HER DAUGHTER AND FRIENDS. Edited
by Mrs. Hale. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1871.
THE LETTERS OF LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. Edited by Mrs. Hale.
Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1871.
These two books, simultaneously issued from the same press and edited
by the same author, bear strong marks of similarity and contrast.
Each, in its way, has long been looked upon as a model of epistolary
correspondence in its appropriate language, and each is defaced by
that superficial, not to say anti-Christian, philosophy which
prevailed among the “higher classes” in France and England during the
last and the preceding century. The French authoress, however, has
somewhat the advantage of her English sister, not only in the
possession of a language especially adapted, by its grace and
flexibility, to this species of composition, but from the fact that
she lived surrounded by a strong Catholic public opinion, which, with
all her cynicism and fashionable scepticism, she could not wholly
disregard. We find, therefore, in many of her letters, particularly
those to her daughter, flashes of true, genuine moral sentiment, which
are the more striking from contrast with the worldly tone which
generally characterized her life and correspondence. Lady Montagu, on
the contrary, was brought up in that hard, unsympathetic school which
was inaugurated in England after the frenzy of the Reformation had
subsided, and with all her wit and womanly elegance we cannot look
upon her otherwise than as an intellectual pagan. We may search from
cover to cover of Mrs. Hale’s edition of her correspondence in vain to
find one religious sentiment that would not have been as appropriate
in the days of Horace or Zeno as in the eighteenth century of the
Christian era. This is the more singular when we recollect that these
gifted women, married to husbands far their inferiors mentally, and,
as it appears, merely for the sake of conventionalism, by a not
unnatural effort transferred the love women usually bear to the
partners of their joys and sorrows to their offspring, and centred all
their affections and hopes in their children. With our children we are
apt “to assume a virtue if we have it not,” yet still we find these
two intellectual mothers writing to their daughters in strains which,
if not positively immoral in the broad sense of that term, certainly
could not actively conduce to strengthen them against the temptations
by which they were constantly surrounded, or to elevate their minds
above the glitter and hollowness of the society in which they were
obliged to move. Both these distinguished writers were well-bred,
thoroughly educated according to the idea of their times, and were the
associates of generals, statesmen, poets, and artists, and their
frequent and familiar reference to the then leading men of their
respective countries are not only interesting, but instructive, as
giving us a view of the interior life of many eminent personages
hitherto known to us only by their public acts; but when we consider
how many unexceptionably good books this age of cheap printing has put 431
within our reach, and the shortness of this busy life itself, we
cannot recommend to our readers, particularly the younger portion, the
perusal of either volume; nor do we see the necessity of a new edition
of works which are merely ornamental, without having the merit of
being innocuous.
A COLLECTION OF LEADING CASES ON THE LAW OF ELECTIONS IN THE UNITED
STATES. With Notes and References to the latest authorities. By
Frederick C. Brightly, author of “The Federal Digest,” “The United
States Digest,” etc. Philadelphia: Kay & Brother, 17 and 19 South
Sixth Street, Law Booksellers, Publishers, and Importers. 1871.
Mr. Brightly, who has done so much in his previous works to facilitate
the law-student and the lawyer in their studies and preparation of
cases, by means of his admirable and learned digests and treatises,
has now acquired a new claim upon the gratitude of the student and
professional man by his _Collection of Leading Cases on
Elections_. The author has been most happy in the selection of his
subject, for there are few branches of the law so important, in a free
and representative government like ours, as the law of public
elections.
In the early days of our Republic, when there was more conservatism
than at present, only the most important civil officers of the Federal
and State governments were elective by the people, and the elective
franchise was not so universally participated in by the masses as at
the present time. Then the executive, elected by the people, was
clothed with the appointing power, which he exercised with greater
deliberation, calmness, and discrimination than is possible to the
people amidst the excitements and intrigues of a popular election. He
was held responsible to the people for an honest, faithful, and
judicious exercise of this high prerogative. But gradually the
executive, elected by, and justly accountable to, his constituents,
has been stripped of this power, and the same has become vested in or
been resumed by the people, who, while possessing, according to the
theory of the lawgivers of Ancient Greece, a greater amount of purity
of intention, are swayed more by impulses and the passions of the
hour. The legislative bodies then, as now, have always been elected by
the qualified voters. Then elections were comparatively few, and the
contests in the courts over executive, judicial, and ministerial
offices, and in the legislatures over the contested seats of members,
were comparatively few.
The law in such cases was sought for entirely from the analogies of
the English common law cases and the parliamentary precedents and
decisions. Now, while the Federal offices remain mostly as they were
under our first Presidents and Congresses, in the States almost every
office, from governor and judges of the highest courts down to
magistrates and constables, has become elective by the people, and the
States, with whom, under the Constitution, rests the power of
regulating the qualifications for the exercise of the elective
franchise, have generally removed all qualifications thereon, and
conferred universal suffrage, as it is called, upon the people.
There is scarcely a function of government, from the most vital and
momentous to the most trifling, that is not discharged in our regard
by elected officers; our lives, our liberties, our property, our
castles, and our reputations are confided to the protection or
neglect, if not abuse, of officers elected for short terms; so that
every interest of life and of society is thus governed, controlled,
and administered indirectly by the voting masses.
We will give a single illustration of this: If we take thirty-three
and a third years as the average span of human life, it may be said
that in every thirty-three and a third years [the time has been 432
estimated as much shorter in regard to what we are going to state],
the entire property of the country, its countless millions, are
administered or acted upon by a single officer, the Judge of the
Probate Court, or other officer of the law, elected by the people, and
thus incidentally by the masses themselves. Thus the various
elections, which we so heedlessly disregard or pass by, are, in fact,
the casts of the die that determine the fate of the nation, its
prosperity, happiness, and honor. The importance, therefore, of the
law regulating these elections in their varied relations may be
estimated from this fact.
That numerous questions and contests should have arisen in a country
where so many offices are to be filled, and where elections are so
frequent, is not strange, and that the decisions of our own courts
upon these litigated cases should have become numerous and controlling
is a natural result. The law of elections has been greatly developed
and expounded in this country in recent years. The leading cases
bearing upon these subjects have been skilfully and carefully collated
by Mr. Brightly, illustrated by his own notes and references, and
presented to the legal profession and the public in the volume before
us. He could not have selected a theme of greater interest or
importance to our country, especially at this time, than the law of
elections. He has handled it with the same accuracy, learning, and
industry which have always characterized his works, and elevated his
reputation as a jurist and author. The present work carries with it an
interest far more general than professional works usually possess, and
may be read with improvement and pleasure by all who are fond of a
good and readable book, who seek for useful knowledge on a matter of
vast public import, or who take an interest in the purity of
elections, and in the general morals and welfare of the commonwealth.
We commend it to their perusal.
The title of Father Doane’s new book is to be _To and from the
Passion Play in the Summer of 1871_. It will soon be published by
Mr. Donahoe, Boston.
MR. P. O’SHEA announces as in press, and to be published by
subscription, _The Lives of Deceased Bishops of the Catholic Church
in the United States_, by Mr. Richard H. Clark, A. M. The work will
be published in two large octavo volumes, and will be ready about the
first of December. These volumes will contain the biographies of all
the deceased members of the American Catholic Hierarchy, from the
earliest dawn of Christianity on this continent to the present day,
and will trace the history of the church through the important
episcopate of Archbishop Carroll, and chronicle with graphic effect
the labors, sacrifices, and achievements of over fifty bishops who
have been called to their reward.
The Catholic Publication Society will soon publish a new edition of
Father Young’s _Office of Vespers_, greatly enlarged and improved.
The volume of _Sermons of the Paulist Fathers for 1870_ will be ready
for delivery on the 25th of November.
THE 433
CATHOLIC WORLD.
VOL. XIV., No. 82.--JANUARY, 1872.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
REV. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at
Washington, D. C.
WHO IS TO EDUCATE OUR CHILDREN?
Every day that passes over our heads and witnesses the rapid increase
of the population of the country adds to the interest which attaches
to the reciprocal rights and duties existing between the state and the
citizen, as far as the question of the proper education of our
children is concerned. It has become a matter of the most vital
importance, superior to mere party consideration in the success of
this or that faction of politicians; for in the proper appreciation of
its magnitude and in its judicious and permanent settlement may be
said to lie not only the future welfare of this republic, but the
supremacy of Christianity itself on this broad continent. The history
of the church from its very foundation is full of instances of the
decay of religion and morality in one country simultaneously with
their growth or revival in another. It was thus that the faith, grown
weak in the farther East, found so many earnest professors in Italy,
and when Gaul and the Spanish peninsula succumbed to their pagan
conquerors, the light of the Gospel was transferred to the islands of
Britain and Ireland, and brightened into an effulgence which, in a few
centuries, penetrated the darkest recesses of the then semi-barbarized
continent. In Europe to-day, the church, assailed on one side by
Cæsarism and on the other by the secret societies, can hardly hold her
own, notwithstanding the justice of her cause and the zeal and
learning of her champions; and it would seem to be one of the
mysterious designs of Providence that the theatre of her triumphs and
conquests is, for a time at least, to be transferred to the fresher
and more vigorous New World. The astonishing growth of Catholicity in
America in our own day is an evidence of this, but our present
victories will be barren of any good results if we neglect the proper
education of our children, who, as we gradually pass away, are
destined to take our places for good or evil.
The time has come when the question, Who is to educate our children?
should be definitively answered. Pulpits, forums, and the press, in 434
their respective spheres, have discussed the matter from almost every
stand-point, and some of the ablest thinkers, particularly in the
Eastern States, have devoted their time and erudition to the
elimination of order out of the chaos of crude and transcendental
opinions which of late have filled the pamphlets and books of so many
writers in Europe and America on the subject of education. Theories
innumerable have been advanced, and historical precedents quoted in
favor of particular systems, without much approach to unanimity, and
still the problem remains as ever unsolved.
Amongst other expressions of opinion on this all-important subject, we
have before us a long and very elaborate essay in the _Congregational
Quarterly_ of Boston, strongly in favor of the continuance of the
public-school system as received in that classical city, and as
earnestly endeavoring to demonstrate that, unless the Bible, “without
note or comment,” prayers, hymns, and piety, be taught in the state
schools in conformity to the statute of 1826, these institutions will
become worse than useless, and should be discountenanced. In the
language of the writer: “The school system which requires the ethics
can receive them only as indissolubly one with the religion, and the
state that cannot sustain a statute like the Massachusetts law of
1826, which requires the principles of piety as well as those of
morality to be taught, cannot sustain a common school system.”
As a counterpoise to our New England contemporary, we find in the last
number of the _American Educational Monthly_, a magazine published in
this city, as stout a defence of secular education, while exhibiting a
decided preference for the removal from our public schools of the
Bible and the discontinuance of all teaching of a religious character.
Its arguments on these points, if less subtle, are more practical than
those of the _Congregational_, and some of the facts it adduces in
support of its views are thus plainly stated:
“It is well to repeat here what was said in the beginning: that
knowledge is not virtue itself, but only the handmaid of virtue.
This is the lesson of Connecticut statistics--a state having a
first-class university as well as the usual network of common
schools: in every nine and seven-tenths marriages there is sure
to be one divorce. Ohio, which has no university comparable to
Yale, and whose common schools are presumably no better than
Connecticut’s, has but one divorce in twenty-four marriages in a
much larger population. There are graduates of common schools who
make it their business to procure divorces by observing
prescribed forms, yet without the knowledge of one or other of
the parties--contrary to the spirit of the law.”
From the contemplation of these and other results of our common
schools, in which piety and morality are supposed to be taught, the
writer in the _Monthly_ concludes that it is better for us to “leave
devotional instruction to those whose business it is--to parents and
clergymen.”
Another writer, the editor of one of the most widely circulated of our
sectarian weekly newspapers, also a decided advocate of the public
school system as at present existing, puts forward among others the
following novel argument for its perpetuity:
“We hold, therefore, that it is unnecessary and unwise to
disperse or redistribute our common school pupils in accordance
with the dogmatic or ecclesiastical leanings of their parents
respectively--that the inconvenience and cost of so doing would
immensely overbalance its benefits. We should need far more
schools; yet our children would have to travel much further to
reach one of the preferred theological stripe than at present.
We do not decide that soundness of faith is of little 435
consequence--far from it; we only insist that provision is
already made for theological instruction apart from our common
schools, and that there is no need of making such provision
within them. The Roman Catholic and the Protestant coincide with
respect to spelling and grammar; the Trinitarian and the
Unitarian are in perfect accord as to mathematics, at least in
their application to all mundane affairs. Then, why not allow
them to read and cipher from the same text-books on week-days,
and learn theology in their respective churches and
Sunday-schools on the Lord’s day? This seems to us the dictate of
economy, convenience, and good sense.”
Nearly every week similar effusions appear in the columns of the
so-called religious press, in which are enunciated opinions and
speculations as absurd as the above, and yet as varied as the clashing
sects they profess to represent. On one point alone, and that a very
suspicious one, are they agreed--in a general determination to reduce
the children of the Catholics of this country under the sway of a
system of public instruction which parents can neither encourage nor
countenance. On the minor features of this system, with their usual
want of unity, they widely dissent one from the other.
Now, whence this confusion of ideas about one of the plainest and most
vital requirements of a free Christian people--education? Does it not
lie in the utter misapprehension of what education really is? In pagan
times, education was supposed to be the accumulation of knowledge for
its own sake or for the superiority it conferred on its possessor over
his less instructed fellows. It was of the earth, earthy. From a
Christian point of view, its aim, primarily and principally, is to
facilitate, by proper training and instruction, the attainment of our
true happiness--the knowledge and observance of the laws of God here
and eternal happiness hereafter. To the pagan, this world was
everything, and consequently he utilized his knowledge for worldly
advantage alone. For the Christian, education is merely a means to a
great end, and, as eternal bliss is infinitely greater than any
temporal enjoyment to him, the training of the soul, the immortal
part, in the ways of religion is of paramount and incomparable
importance. Secular education, when properly applied, should not be
undervalued, inasmuch as we have duties in this life to be performed,
to ourselves, our country, and our fellow-man; but it should be
tempered and permeated, so to speak, with religious instruction, so
that the learner, as his mental faculties expand with his years, may
be gradually but constantly led to the knowledge of those divine
truths which the church teaches her children, and his character thus
be insensibly formed on a true Christian basis. If we admit, as every
professing Christian is bound to do, that man’s chiefest object in
life is the salvation of his soul, if “the knowledge of God is the
beginning of wisdom,” it is the merest folly to suppose that this
knowledge, so all-important in itself, can properly be imparted to our
children after ordinary school-hours, when the young mind is fatigued
and needs repose or recreation, or on one day out of seven, when so
many distractions occur to call off the attention of most children.
This would be to make religion distasteful, if not odious, to our boys
and girls, and lead them to dread the recurrence of a day which, to
them at least, should be one of gladness and innocent enjoyment. We do
not underrate the value of parental advice and example, or ignore the
benefits conferred on our rising population by pastoral instructions
and Sunday-school training, but we assert the day-schools should also 436
take their part in supplying food to the ever-expanding and
question-asking minds of the American youth.
The formation of character, one of the great objects of education,
should be conducted on principles somewhat similar to those of
domestic economy. We do not eat all the sweets at one time and the
sours at another, the solids at one meal and the dessert at the next,
but by a judicious admixture of both produce a savory and salutary
combination which gives health and strength to the body. It may be
said that mere secular education--such as geology, geometry, history,
natural philosophy, botany, astronomy, etc., as taught in our common
schools--presents no opportunity for moral instruction. Nothing can be
more fallacious. That great master of dramatic literature,
Shakespeare, whose knowledge of the springs of human action has seldom
been equalled, has told us that we can find books in running brooks,
sermons in stones, and good in everything. Properly directed, the
anatomy of the smallest insect, equally with the contemplation of the
vast firmament with its countless planets and stars, may become a
silent and involuntary prayer to the Creator of all things. There is
not a force, physical or deduced, that is revealed to the mind of
youth that ought not to be made to bear with it some conception of the
unseen Power that presides over and governs the universe, and the
teacher who neglects to place before the minds of his pupils the moral
to be drawn from those symbols of the Creator’s almightiness does but
half his work, and that the less nobler part. Leaving dogma and
doctrine aside, are the generality of our public school teachers
capable or disposed to thus draw from nature the beautiful lessons of
God’s wisdom and power--lessons which no book can adequately teach,
but which should be before one’s eyes from infancy to the grave?
Some persons speak of religion in connection with the education of
youth as if it were a mere matter of sentiment or a holiday pastime,
to be occasionally indulged in when the more serious duties of
money-making and political advancement have been complied with. On the
contrary, it is a matter of everyday life, controlling and guiding our
intercourse with mankind individually as well as collectively, and as
we are responsible for our actions every conscious moment of our life,
so should it in one form or another be associated with our every
pursuit and act. If this be true among full-grown men and women, is it
not apparent that any system of youthful training that would
dissociate religion from secular studies in early life would send into
the world vicious or ignorant adults, who would either ignore
altogether the practice of honesty, truthfulness, and morality, or who
in their ignorance would make these great attributes of Christianity
subserve their worldly interests and passions? Education, therefore,
that would exclude religious instruction from our children during
their hours of study, which is half of their young lives, is not
education at all, at least in the Christian sense of the word. It may
make them expert financiers or glib politicians, but it cannot make
them upright, truthful, and benevolent citizens. In this regard, we
agree with the writer in the _Congregational_ when he says, “We call
attention in the outset to the immense difficulty, if it be not the
absolute impossibility, of separating religious instruction from any
practical system of public education.”
But we do not coincide with him in his estimate of the right and duty 437
of the state to provide this education. Granted that religion is an
essential element in education, who is the proper authority to
inculcate it? Clearly not the state, for, in our theory of government,
the state knows no religion, nor under any pretence can it lay claim
to any apostolic authority to preach and teach the Gospel to the
nations. That is a power far anterior to and above all existing
governments. That the state is or ought to be religious in the
character of its acts cannot be denied, but this character should be
derived from the teachings of the church to its individual members,
and gives it no power to prescribe to the church what she should teach
or allow to be taught, for the authority of the teaching church is
from God, and that of the state from man. It is true that the common
law framed by our Catholic ancestors recognized the laws of the
church, as far as public morality and the observance of Sundays and
holidays were concerned, as part of the law of the land, but it was
never intended that the state should be placed above the church in
matters spiritual, much less to make it the teacher and expounder of
her doctrines. This innovation was one of the fruits of the
“Reformation,” which, while professing to liberate the minds of men
from spiritual thraldom and the authority of the popes, actually
subjected their consciences and forms of faith to the whim of
parliaments and the arbitrary _dicta_ of local lay tyrants. Even to
this day, the House of Lords in England, composed as it is mostly of
laymen, and those, too, not remarkable for their piety or morality, is
the court of last resort to determine and decide what are and what are
not the doctrines taught by our Holy Redeemer.
If the state claim the right to educate our children, that right cannot
be derived from the natural law; for the state, being an artificial
organization, cannot in its corporate capacity have any natural law.
On the contrary, the natural law bestows the possession, care, and
custody of the child on the parent, and the duty thus imposed cannot
be relinquished or delegated without a manifest infraction of the
first principles of that law. Besides, the state is only constituted
to do for the citizen what he, from his want of ability, means, or
strength, cannot do for himself. Its office is simply the
administration of justice, retributive and distributive, and the
enactment of laws to facilitate that object. All outside of that is
simply usurpation, which may, and generally does, degenerate into
tyranny. Whenever a state invades private reserved rights and
oversteps the bounds of its legitimate duties, law and justice are not
only brought into contempt, but enactments in themselves abstractly
just are despised and evaded. The futile attempts to enforce certain
sumptuary laws in this and other countries prove this conclusively.
Nor does the state derive its power to educate our children as it sees
fit from the will of the people as expressed in the fundamental laws
of the land. In the Declaration of Independence, it is clearly stated
that among the _inalienable_ rights of mankind are life, liberty, and
the pursuit of _happiness_. Now, who that has been blessed with
children does not know that the care and custody, education and
maintenance, of his offspring constitute the greatest happiness of his
life, compared with which riches, honors, and fame dwindle into
insignificance? One of the most powerful arguments against Southern
slavery, now happily for ever abolished, was that it separated the
child from its parent: but what is the value of freedom to me if, as 438
the _Congregational_ suggests, I must see my child forced into a
common school, to listen to the reading of a Bible which I believe, at
best, to be a mutilated and perverted copy of the Holy Scriptures, and
be obliged to repeat prayers and hymns that too often, alas! are but
blasphemies against the holy name of him who died on the cross for
man’s redemption? In one case the body alone suffered, in the other
the eternal salvation of immortal souls is imperilled. Even the
framers of the constitution, that noble document about which so much
is said and so little understood, having surveyed their work, and
finding it defective in respect to providing guarantees for the
perfect freedom of religion, hastened by an amendment to supply the
deficiency. “Congress,” they ordained, “shall make no law respecting
the establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise
thereof,”[100] and our own state, on November 3, 1846, by its
constitution, emphatically declares that “the free exercise
and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without
_discrimination or preference_, shall for ever be allowed in this
state to all mankind.” (Art. I. sec. 3.)
Does the state derive its authority to teach religion to our children
from God? If so, where is its authority? The writer in the
_Congregational_ evidently considers the Bible an authority on
matters of faith and discipline. Yet we fail to find in the inspired
writings any authority for the state of Massachusetts, or any other
purely political corporation, to teach the doctrines of Christ. But,
if the state have a right so to teach, it has a right also to decide
what shall be taught, and this, of course, must depend on the character
of the officials through whom the state for the time being acts; for
as yet, unlike other and more favored Protestant countries, we have no
fixed state religion, and must depend on the popular electoral vote
for our faith and ideas of morality. We would like the advocates of
religious teaching in schools, “the Bible, prayers, hymns, and piety,”
to be more explicit on this point. Are our children to be taught
religion according to the parliamentary doctrine of the Church of
England, or the total depravity notions of the followers of Calvin;
are they to be obliged to deny the divinity of Christ with the
Unitarians, and eternal punishments with the Universalists? Are we, in
fact, bringing children into the world to be liable any day to be
indoctrinated into the vagaries of Methodism, Congregationalism,
Presbyterianism, Muggletonianism, Mormonism, or any other of the
thousand “isms” born of that fruitful mother of dissent, the much
vaunted Reformation? Or are we to have them treated to a dose of each
and every one in turn as the political wheel brings their professors
to the surface? The idea seems perfectly absurd, and yet it is the
logical consequence of the _Congergational’s_ position that the state
can teach religion in its schools; for the state, being liable to be
controlled at any time by any of the believers in the “isms,” must of
necessity teach its own ism, and, having the sovereign authority, who
can dispute its choice? But, says the writer in the _Congregational_,
and those who agree with him, we do not violate the rights of
conscience, we only advocate the reading of the Bible, “in which the
Papist does not believe,”[101] prayers, hymns, and piety. Now, in 439
what does the religion of the Congregationalists consist, if not in
these very matters which they would insidiously intrude on the
attention of our children? Does any one believe, if the writer in
question, or those who believe in his sentiments, had the control of
our schools, that the prayers and hymns would be such as a Catholic
child could conscientiously listen to? Would the Apostles’ Creed and
the _Confiteor_ be among the forms, or would the _Stabat Mater, Ave
Maria Stella_, in Latin or English, or any other of the beautiful
appeals to the clemency and protection of the Blessed Mother which the
church puts into the mouths and hearts of her little ones, find a
place in schools presided over by the advocates of religion and piety,
as prescribed by the law of 1826? And yet, we venture to say that more
than one-half of the children who attend the public schools in the
very city in which this _Quarterly_ is published are Catholics, and
born of Catholic parents. Yet we are told that not only the morals,
but the religion of our children is to be at the mercy of politicians,
calling themselves the state, too often elevated to power by most
corrupt intrigues. Is there anything particularly virtuous in the
character of our legislators or the members of our board of education
that would induce us to suppose that they were specially selected by
Providence to teach his laws and expound his doctrines? And still, for
all practical purposes, they are the state. They enact the laws,
select the schoolbooks, appoint the teachers, and prescribe the course
of study to be pursued. If their appointees leave out the Bible,
prayers, hymns, etc., the schools become, in the language of the
_Congregational_, the instruments of “sweeping away the political
Protestantism of the land,” while, if they do enforce the observance
of these religious exercises, we have a new set of apostles annually
or biennially elected by political coteries to teach our children!
The three great sources of authority which all writers on the
philosophy of government ascribe to the state are, then, wanting, to
justify these assumptions of the advocates of the right of the state
to teach religion to the children of its citizens, but the
_Congregational_ still argues that it has a right to teach
“morality and piety.” How are morality and piety to be taught without
religion? What is its idea of morals abstracted from practical
religion? Does the writer who adorns its columns believe that the end
and aim of all true education is to promote man’s true happiness, and,
if so, does he believe in a hereafter of eternal rewards and
punishments, and how we are to earn the one and avoid the other? He
knows as well as we do that, of some dozen leading Protestant sects in
this country, not two are agreed on the essential Christian duty and
faith of man necessary for his salvation. Who, then, is to decide but
the state, which, as we have endeavored to prove, has neither a divine
mission nor even human consent to interfere in spiritual matters? It
may be said that the state does not decide these questions, but it
does. Every hour devoted to a child’s instruction, relatively at
least, involves the question of man’s true destiny; for the religious
question, which is the question of man’s true destiny, sums up all
other questions. As far as Catholics are concerned, they object to
each and all such teachers, whether appointed by the warring sects or
by the temporal authority. For example, the writer in the
_Congregational_, though evidently an intelligent and accomplished 440
gentleman, would not be a very safe teacher in a school composed in
whole or in part of Catholic children. Any person who could endorse as
he does Draper’s absurd assertion that the _Imitation of Christ_ was
the forerunner of the Reformation, call the illustrious Fénelon a
Jansenist, style millions of his fellow-citizens by the cant epithets
of “Romanists” and “Papists,” and coolly declare that Catholics do not
believe in the Bible, is evidently unfitted to form a correct opinion
on any religious subject, much less to be entrusted with the
instruction of youth.
“But,” says the writer above quoted, “the safety of democracy requires
compulsory education. The work cannot be entrusted to churches, or to
corporations, or to individuals.” Now, this may mean very little or a
very great deal. If it mean, as he hints in another part of his
article, that the state has an absolute right to teach a particular
religion or any religion at all in its public schools, and enforce
attendance therein, for the preservation of our democratic form of
government, we entirely dissent from his proposition. The very essence
of a free government lies in its recognition of religious liberty and
the natural rights of individuals, and our best guarantees of freedom
rest on the fact that majorities, which for the time being represent
the power of the state, all potent as they may be, cannot set aside
the fundamental law, and dare not infringe on the civil or religious
liberty of the citizen. No state could or ought to attempt an exercise
of power so utterly despotic and foreign to the genius of our
institutions.
We are aware that of late it has been customary to denominate our form
of education as the American system, for the purpose, doubtless, of
exciting public prejudice in its favor. The system is not by any means
American in the national sense. It is purely local, and of Puritanical
origin and growth. When the New England colonies by persecution and
violence secured for themselves uniformity of worship, such as it was,
they established schools, in which prayers, hymns, and piety were
taught _ad libitum_, with all the raw-head-and-bloody-bones
anti-Catholic fiction which the descendants of the Pilgrims mistook
for veritable history. Being all of one mind, such a system of
training could have no perceptible evil effect on the pupils; for, if
they did not hear intolerance and falsehood in the school, they were
pretty certain to hear them in the meeting-house. But times have
strangely altered since then, as the writer in the _Congregational_ is
forced to admit. “The reason our school system had to be modified,” he
says, “was not that it was _per se_ right from the day it was enacted,
but because the foreign immigration and the changes of time had
produced an immense revolution in the religious spirit of the people,
and required the readjustment of the civil creed in the school
system.” In no sense, then, can this system of public education which
is sought to be thrust upon us be called American, except, perhaps, as
contradistinguished from that of England, France, Germany, Austria,
and other so-called despotic countries, in all of which the
denominational plan, more or less generally, prevails. In the latter
two countries particularly, one Catholic and the other Protestant, the
scheme of secular education has been tried and abandoned, and the
wisdom of the new system has been proved beyond peradventure. If it be
American to tax citizens for the support of schools and compel them to
send their children to be called Romanists and idolaters, then is the 441
public-school system entitled to that distinctive appellation? We do
not think that it is.