The past winter in New York has scarcely kept pace with its immediate

predecessor in the number and merit of the collections of pictures

opened to public inspection or disposed of at auction. The

unprecedented prices obtained for the really excellent collection of

Mr. Wolfe, in Christmas week of 1863, seemed to have inoculated art

collectors and dealers with what may be called a _cacoethes vendendi_,

and until far into the succeeding summer the picture auctioneers were

called upon to knock down dozens of galleries of "private gentlemen

about to leave the country," varying in merit from respectable to

positively bad. In these sales the moderns had decidedly the best of

it, the few {137} "old masters" who ventured to appeal to the

sympathies and pockets of our collectors being at last treated with

proper contempt. But the prices realized by the Wolfe gallery, even

when reduced to a specie basis, were too high to become a recognized

standard of value, and gradually the interest in such sales, as well

as the bids, declined, until the sellers became aware (the purchasers

had become aware some time previous) that the market was overstocked

and the demand for pictures had ceased. The contributions of the

foreign artists to the New York Sanitary Fair brought probably less

than a third of the money that would have been obtained for them had

they been sold in January instead of June, and such collections as

have been scraped together for sale during the present season have met

with but moderate pecuniary success. It is gratifying to know,

however, that our resident artists, both native and foreign-born, have

for the most part been busily and profitably employed, and that in

landscape, and in some departments of _genre_, their works have not

suffered in competition with similar ones by reputable European

painters. Without wishing in any respect to recommend or suggest a

protective system for fostering native art, we cannot but rejoice that

the overthrow of the late exaggerated prices for foreign works will

tend to encourage and develop American artists.

The principal art event in anticipation is the opening of next

exhibition of the National Academy of Design in the building now

hastening to completion at the corner of Fourth avenue and

Twenty-third streets. It is to be hoped that the contributions will be

worthy of the place and the occasion. Recent exhibitions have not been

altogether creditable to the Academy.

Durand, the late president of the Academy, and one of our oldest and

most careful landscape painters, has a characteristic work on

exhibition at Avery's Art Agency, corner of Fourth street and

Broadway. It is called "A Summer Afternoon," and is pervaded by a

soft, pensive sentiment of rural repose. In the elaboration of the

trees and in the soft, mellow distances the artist shows his early

skill, albeit in some of his later pieces the timid handling

inseparable from age is discernible.

A collection of several hundred sketches and studies of no special

merit, by Hicks, has recently been disposed of at auction. The essays

of this gentleman in landscape are not happy, and the specimens in

this collection had better, perhaps, have been excluded.

Rossiter's pictures representing Adam and Eve in Paradise, now on

exhibition in New York, have excited more remark than commendation. It

may be said briefly, that they fail to do justice to the subject.

Curnmings's "Historic Annals of the Academy of Design" have been

published, and constitute an interesting addition to the somewhat

meagre collection of works illustrating American art history.

Mr. Thomas Ball, the well-known sculptor of Boston, is about to depart

for Italy, with the intention of remaining several years in Florence,

and executing there in marble a number of plaster models. Among these

are a life-size statue of Edwin Forrest in the part of "Coriolanus,"

and busts of the late Rev. Thomas Starr King and Edward Everett. The

latter is said to be an admirable likeness.

M. J. Heade, an American artist, formerly of Boston and Providence, is

publishing in London a work upon the humming-birds of Brazil,

illustrated from designs by himself.

The United States Senate was recently the scene of a somewhat animated

debate on art matters, arising out of a proposition to authorize the

artist Powell to "paint a picture for the Capitol at a cost not to

exceed $25,000." The scheme was defeated, chiefly through the

opposition of Senator Sumner, who thought the present an improper time

to devote so large a sum to such a purpose.

A very remarkable picture by Gerome, the most original, and realistic

of living French painters, is now on exhibition at Goupil's, in this

city. It is entitled "The Prayer of the Arab in the Desert," and in a

small space presents a complete epitome of Oriental life.

In London the General Exhibition of water-color drawings, and

collections of works of Holman Hunt, Madox Brown, and the late David

Roberts, have recently been opened. The last named contains 900

pictures, drawings, and sketches, showing the amazing industry of the

artist, and his skill as a draughtsman.

{138}

A monument to Shakespeare, from penny subscriptions, is to be erected

on Primrose Hill, near London.

The sale of the celebrated Pourtales collection at Paris has been the

all-absorbing art topic abroad. The gallery, at last accounts, was

daily crowded with representatives from all parts of Europe, and the

prices surpassed the estimates of the experts. The value set upon the

whole collection was upward of 3,000,000 francs, but that sum will

probably fall far short of the real total. The bronzes and terra-cotta

occupied four days, and produced over 150,000 francs. The following

are among the most remarkable items: A very small statuette of

Jupiter, found at Besancon in 1820, 8,000 francs; another small

statuette of the same, seated, formerly in the Denon collection,

12,000 francs; the celebrated statuette of Apollo, supposed to date

from the sixth century B.C., from the Neri collection, 5,000 francs;

small statuette of Minerva, arms missing, found at Besancon, 19,200

francs; armor found at Herculaneum, and presented by the Queen of

Naples to Josephine, purchased by the Emperor for 13,000 francs; a

small Roman bust, supposed by Visconti to be a Balbus, bought for the

Louvre for 4,550 francs; a tripod, found in the ruins of the town of

Metapont, and described by Panofka, purchased for the Berlin gallery,

10,000 francs; fine old Roman seat, in bronze, bought for the Louvre,

5,300 francs; vase from Locres, 7,000 francs; another vase, found in

one of the tombs of the Vulci, 9,000 francs.

At the sale of the collection of the Marquis de Lambertye, in Paris, a

charming work by Meissonier, "Reynard in his Study, reading a

Manuscript," was purchased for 12,600 francs; had it not been for the

effect of the Pourtales sale on the art market, the work would have

fetched considerably more money. It was purchased of the artist

himself, for 16,000 francs, by the late marquis. Another and smaller

picture, not six inches by four, also by Meissonier, was sold on the

same occasion--subject, "Van de Velde in his Atelier"--for 7,020

francs. In the same collection were four works by Decamps, whose

pictures are in great request. One of these, an Eastern landscape,

sold for 15,500 francs; another, a small work, a peasant girl in the

forest, for 4,240 francs; and two still smaller and less important

works, "Tide Out, with Sunset," and "Gorges d'Ollioule," for 1,500

francs each. Three small works by Eugene Delacroix, a "Tiger attacking

a Serpent," "Combat between Moors and Arabs," and "The Scotch Ballad,"

sold, respectively, for 1,820 francs, 1,300 francs, and 2,300 francs.

A minute picture by Paul Delaroche, "Jesus on the Mount of Olives,"

sold for 2,200 francs; Diogenes sitting on the edge of an immense jar,

holding his lantern, by Gerome, 1,950 francs; and "Arnauts at Prayer,"

by the same, 3,900 francs. "The Beach at Trouville," by the lately

deceased painter, Troyon, 4,000 francs, and "Feeding the Poultry," by

the same, 4,850 francs.

At the sale of a collection of the works of M. Cordier, the sculptor,

who has earned considerable popularity by his variegated works,

composed of marbles, onyx and bronze, and variously tinted and

decorated, a marble statue, called "La Belle Gallinara," sold for

4,100 francs; a young Kabyle child carrying a branch loaded with

oranges, in Algerian onyx and bronze, and partly colored, 3,000

francs; an Arab woman, a statue of the same materials as the

preceding, intended to support a lamp or candelabrum, purchased by the

Due de Morny for 6,825 francs.

There is a report that the collections of pictures and curiosities

belonging to the Comte de Chambord will shortly be dispersed by the

hammer in Paris.

The scaffolding before the north front of the cathedral of Notre Dame,

in Paris, has been removed, and the facade, with the magnificent

Gothic window, forty feet in diameter, can now be seen to great

perfection, all the rich sculptures having been admirably restored.

A Paris letter says: "The celebrated painting of the 'Assassination of

the Bishop of Liege,' by Eugene Delacroix, was recently sold at

auction at 35,000 francs. The 'Death of Ophelia,' in pencil, by the

same painter, was knocked down for 2,020 francs, which was considered

a large sum for a sketch. 'St. Louis at the Bridge of Taillebourg,' in

water-colors, fetched 3,100 francs. Some copper-plates engraved by

Eugene Delacroix himself were likewise sold."

At the sale of the collection of the Chevalier de Knyff, at Brussels,

the Virgin with the host and surrounded by angels, by Ingres, was

withdrawn at 28,500 francs.

{139}

Among the works of art destroyed in the recent conflagration of the

ducal palace at Brunswick was the colossal bronze figure of Brunonia,

the patron goddess of the town, standing in a car of victory, drawn by

four horses. It was executed by Professor Howaldt and his sons, after

a design by Rietschel.

The colossal bronze statue of Hercules, lately exhumed at Rome, has

been safely deposited in the Vatican.

------

BOOK NOTICES.

SERMONS ON OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, AND ON HIS BLESSED MOTHER.

By his Eminence Cardinal Wiseman. 8vo., pp. 421. New York: D. & J.

Sadlier & Co.

Coming to us almost in the same moment in which we hear of Cardinal

Wiseman's death, these sermons will be read with a deep and peculiar

interest, now that the eloquent lips which uttered them are closed for

ever. Most of them were preached in Rome, some so long ago as 1827.

These were addressed to congregations composed partly of

ecclesiastics, partly of Catholic sojourners in the Eternal City, and

partly of Protestants. At least one was delivered in Ireland in 1858.

But although some of the discourses belong to the period of the

author's noviceship in the pulpit, and between some there is an

interval of more than thirty years, we are struck by no incongruity of

either thought or style. The earliest have the finish and elegance of

maturity; the latest all the vigor and enthusiasm of youth.

They are not controversial, and hardly any of them can even be called

dogmatic sermons. They are addressed more to the heart than directly

to the understanding, although reasoning and exhortation are often so

skilfully blended that it is hard to say where one begins and the

other ends. They are the outpourings, in fact, of a warm and loving

heart and a full brain. The argument is all the more effective because

the cardinal covers his frame-work of logic with the rich drapery of

his brilliant rhetoric. And yet, with all their gorgeous phraseology,

they are characterized by a simplicity of thought which brings them

down to the level of the commonest intellect.

The greater part of them were preached during the seasons of Lent and

Advent, and the subjects will therefore be found especially

appropriate to the present period. Here is a beautiful passage in

reference to our Lord's agony in the garden:

"There are plants in the luxurious East, my dearly beloved brethren,

which men gash and cut, that from them may distil the precious

balsams they contain; but that is ever the most sought and valued

which, issuing forth of its own accord, pure and unmixed, trickles

down like tears upon the parent tree. And so it seems to me, we may

without disparagement speak of the precious streams of our dear

Redeemer's blood. When forced from his side, in abundant flow, it

came mixed with another mysterious fluid; when shed by the cruel

inflictions of his enemies, by their nails, their thorns, and

scourges, there is a painful association with the brutal instruments

that drew it, as though in some way their defilement could attaint

it. But here we have the first yield of that saving and life-giving

heart, gushing forth spontaneously, pure and untouched by the

unclean hand of man, dropping as dew upon the ground. It is the

first juice of the precious vine; before the wine-press hath bruised

its grapes, richer and sweeter to the loving and sympathizing soul,

than what is afterward pressed out. It is every drop of it ours; and

alas, how painfully so! For here no lash, no impious palm, no

pricking thorn hath called it forth; but our sins, yes, our sins,

the executioners not of the flesh, but of the heart of Jesus, have

driven it all out, thence to water that garden of sorrows! Oh, is it

not dear to us; is it not gathered up by our affections, with far

more reverence and love than by virgins of old was the blood of

martyrs, to be placed for ever in the very sanctuary, yea, within

the very altar of our hearts?"

From the discourse on the "Triumphs of the Cross," we select the

closing paragraph:

{140}

"O blessed Jesus, may the image of these sacred wounds, as expressed

by the cross, never depart from my thoughts. As it is a badge and

privilege of the exalted office, to which, most unworthy, I have

been raised, to wear ever upon my breast the figure of that cross,

and in it, as in a holy shrine, a fragment of that blessed tree

whereon thou didst hang on Golgotha, so much more let the lively

image of thee crucified dwell within my bosom, and be the source

from which shall proceed every thought, and word, and action of my

ministry! Let me preach thee, and thee crucified, not the plausible

doctrines of worldly virtue and human philosophy. In prayer and

meditation let me ever have before me thy likeness, as thou

stretchest forth thine arms to invite us to seek mercy and to draw

us into thine embrace. Let my Thabor be on Calvary; there it is best

for me to dwell. There thou hast prepared three tabernacles; one for

such as, like Magdalen, have offended much, but love to weep at thy

blessed feet; one for those who, like John, have wavered in

steadfastness for a moment, but long again to rest their head upon

thy bosom; and one whereinto only she may enter whose love burns

without a reproach, whose heart, always one with thine, finds its

home in the centre of thine, fibre intertwined with fibre, till both

are melted into one in that furnace of sympathetic love. With these

favorites of the cross, let me ever, blessed Saviour, remain in

meditation and prayer, and loving affection for thy holy rood. I

will venerate its very substance, whenever presented to me, with

deep and solemn reverence. I will honor its image, wherever offered

to me, with lowly and respectful homage. But still more I will

hallow and love its spirit and inward form, impressed on the heart,

and shown forth in the holiness of life. And oh! divine Redeemer,

from thy cross, thy true mercy-seat, look down in compassion upon

this thy people. Pour forth thence abundantly the streams of

blessing, which flow from thy sacred wounds. Accomplish within them,

during this week of forgiveness, the work which holy men have so

well begun, [Footnote 40] that all may worthily partake of thy

Paschal feast. Plant thy cross in every heart; may each one embrace

it in life, may it embrace him in death; and may it be a beacon of

salvation to his departing soul, a crown of glory to his immortal

spirit! Amen."

[Footnote 40: Alluding to the mission just closed by the Fathers of

the Institute of Charity.]

What follows is from the sermon on the "Veneration of the Blessed

Virgin:"

"If, then, any one shall accuse me of wasting upon the mother of my

Saviour feelings and affections which he hath jealously reserved for

himself. I will appeal from the charge to his judgment, and lay the

cause before him, at any stage of his blessed life. I will go unto

him at the crib of Bethlehem, and acknowledge that, while, with the

kings of the East, I have presented to him all my gold and

frankincense and myrrh, I have ventured, with the shepherds, to

present an humbler oblation of respect to her who was enduring the

winter's frost in an unsheltered stable, entirely for his sake. Or I

will meet him, as the holy fugitives repose on their desert-path to

Egypt, and confess that, knowing from the example of Agar, how a

mother cast forth from her house into the wilderness, for her

infant's sake, only loves it the more, and needs an angel to comfort

her in her anguish (Gen. xxi. 17), I have not restrained my eyes

from her whose fatigues and pain were a hundred-fold increased by

his, when I have sympathized with him in this his early flight,

endured for my sins. Or I will approach a more awful tribunal, and

step to the foot of his cross, and own to him, that while I have

adored his wounds, and stirred up in my breast my deepest feelings

of grief and commiseration for what I have made him suffer, my

thoughts could not refrain from sometimes glancing toward her whom I

saw resignedly standing at his feet, and sharing his sorrows; and

that, knowing how much Respha endured while sitting opposite to her

children justly crucified by command of God (2 Kings xxi. 10), I had

felt far greater compassion for her, and had not withheld the

emotions, which nature itself dictated, of love, and veneration, and

devout affection toward her. And to the judgment of such a son I

will gladly bow, and his meek mouth shall speak my sentence, and I

will not fear it. For I have already heard it from the cross,

addressed to me, to you, to all, as he said: 'Woman, behold thy

son;' and again: 'Behold thy mother.' (John xix. 26, 27.)"

An appendix to the volume contains six beautiful pastorals, on

devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, in connection with education.

SPIRITUAL PROGRESS. By J. W. Cummings, D.D., LL.D., of St. Stephen's

Church, New York City. 12mo., pp. 330. New York: P. O'Shea.

We cannot better state the purpose of this excellent little book than

in the words of the author's preface: "_Spiritual Progress_ is a

familiar exposition of Catholic morality, which has for its object to

tell people of common intelligence what they are expected to do in

{141} order to be good Christians, and how they shall do it, and the

results that will follow." It is written not for those strong, heroic

souls, whose faith is firm, whose devotion is ardent, and who crave

strong spiritual food; but for that numerous class of weak Christians,

recent converts, honest inquirers, and fervent but uninstructed

Catholics, who are not yet prepared to accept the more difficult

counsels of perfection; who are ready perhaps to do what God says they

must do; but need a little training before they can be brought to do

any more. To put an ascetic work into the hands of such persons would

often be like giving beef to a young baby: it would hurt, not help

them. Dr. Cummings's book, in fact, is a sort of spiritual primer for

the use of those who are just beginning their spiritual education. It

is simple, straightforward, and practical. There is a charm in the

style--so clear, so terse, often almost epigrammatic, and sometimes

rising to the poetical--which carries the reader along in spite of

himself. The tone is not conversational; yet when you read, it seems

as if you were not so much reading as listening. And that argues great

literary merit.

Here is an extract from the chapter on "Faults of Conversation:"

"Gossip is the bane of conversation, for it is the name under which

injustice makes her entrance into society. There is an element in

the breast of the most civilized communities, even in times of great

refinement, that explains how man may, under certain circumstances,

become a cannibal. It is exhibited in the turns our humor takes in

conversation. We are not ill-natured, nor disposed to lay a straw in

the way of any one who has not injured us, and yet, when spurred on

by the stimulus of talking and being talked to, we can bring

ourselves to mimic, revile, and misrepresent others, traduce and

destroy their good name, reveal their secrets, and proclaim their

faults; and all this merely to follow the lead of others, or for the

sake of appearing facetious and amusing, or for the purpose of

building up ourselves by running down those whom in our hearts we

know and believe to be better than we are.... But as the gossip

attacks the absent because the absent cannot defend himself or

herself, shall not we, dear readers, form a society to assist the

weak and the persecuted? Shall we not enter into a compact to defend

those who cannot defend themselves? Let us answer as a love of fair

play suggests. If we are at all influenced by regard for Christian

charity, let us remember that it takes two to carry on a

conversation against our neighbor, and that if our visitor is guilty

of being a gossip, a false witness, or a detractor, we are also

guilty by consenting to officiate as listeners."

In a chapter on the "Schooling of the

Imagination," Dr. Cummings shows how

the imaginative faculty may be made to

serve the cause of religion, especially in

the practice of meditation, and how

dangerous it becomes when it is not held

in check:

"We hear songs and the flutters of many wings at Bethlehem, and see

the light streaming from heaven upon the face of the new-born

Saviour. We look out over the blue waters of the Lake of Genesareth,

and see the quaint little bark of Peter as it lay near the shore

when Jesus preached to the people from its side, or as it flew

before the wind when the sea waxed wroth, and a great storm arose,

he meanwhile sleeping and they fearing they would perish. With the

aid of this wonderful faculty we see him before us in the hour of

his triumph, surrounded by the multitudes singing, 'Hosanna to the

son of David,' and in that sad day of his final sorrow, when the

same voices swelled the fearful cry, 'Crucify him, crucify him.'"

A GENERAL HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH, FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE

CHRISTIAN ERA UNTIL THE PRESENT TIME. By M. L'Abbe J. E. Darras. First

American from the last French edition. With an Introduction and Notes,

by the Most Rev. M. J. Spalding, D.D., Archbishop of Baltimore. Parts

1, 2, and 3. 8vo. New York: P. O'Shea.

This valuable work, which Mr. O'Shea, with a laudable spirit of

enterprise, is giving us by instalments, is intended for just that

class of readers who stand most in need of a readable and pretty full

Church history. When completed it will fill four portly volumes,

imperial octavo; yet it is a work adapted more especially to family

reading than to the use of the scholar in his closet. The Abbe Darras

has judiciously refrained from obstructing the flow of his narrative

by minute references and quotations, nor has he suffered his pen to

run away into long discussions of controverted questions. What he says

of the chronology which he has followed, he might have said, if we

have read him {142} aright, of his whole work: "We have adopted a

system already completed, not that it may perhaps be the most exact in

all its details, but because it is the one most generally followed."

This seems to be the principle which he has kept before his eyes

throughout; and considering the purpose for which he wrote, we think

it a good one. With all the simplicity and modesty of his style,

however, he shows a thorough knowledge of the intricacies of his

subject, and an acquaintance with what the best scholars have written

before him. His history, therefore, fills a void which has long been

aching.

The translation, made by a lady well known and respected by the

Catholics of the United States, reads smoothly, and we doubt not is

accurate. It has been revised by competent theologians, and has the

special sanction of the Archbishop of Baltimore, beside the

approbation of the Archbishops of New York and Cincinnati. The work in

the original French received the warmest encomiums from the European

clergy, and the author was honored, at the conclusion of his labors,

by a kind letter from the Pope.

The mechanical execution of the book is beautiful. The paper is good,

and the type large and clear. We thank Mr. O'Shea for giving us so

important a work in such a rich and appropriate dress.

THE PROGRESS OF THE AGE, AND THE DANGER OF THE AGE. Two lectures

delivered before the St. Xavier Conference of the St. Vincent de Paul

Brotherhood in the Hall of St. Louis University. By the Rev. Louis

Heylen, S. J. 12mo., pp. 107. Cincinnati: John P. Walsh.

These two lectures formed parts of a course delivered during the

winter of 1862-63, by some of the professors of the St. Louis

University. They are admirable compositions, redolent of good sense,

learning, and ripe thought, and deeply interesting. The style has a

true oratorical ring. In the first lecture Father Heylen, after

adverting to the fact that every age since the days of Adam has been

marked by some special characteristic, examines the claim set forth by

our own century to be emphatically the age of progress. In part he

admits and in part he denies it. In material progress, and in the

natural sciences, especially as applied to the purposes of industry

and commerce, it stands at the head of ages. But moral progress is not

one of its characteristics. "Here I feel," says he, "that I am

entering upon a difficult question. Has there been, in the last fifty

years, any marked increase of crime? Is our age, all things

considered, really worse than preceding ages? This question I shall

not undertake to decide; but there are some forms of crime which

appear to me decidedly peculiar to our age." A brief review of these

sins of the day leads naturally to the subject of the second lecture.

Father Heylen sees our greatest danger in that practical materialism

which places material interests and materialistic passions above the

interests of the soul and the claims of virtue. He considers

successively its extent, its effects, and the means to avert it--the

last being, of course, the ennobling and spiritualizing influence of

Catholicism.

We advise those who wish to see how a scholar and an orator can throw

a fresh charm into a stale subject, to read Father Heylen's review of

the startling discoveries of modern science in the first lecture, and

his brilliant description in the second of the ruins with which

materialism has spread the pages of history and the new life which

Catholicism has infused into effete civilizations.

Prefixed to the little volume before us is a short biographical sketch

of Father Heylen, who died in 1863.

UNDINE, OR THE WATER-SPIRIT. Also SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS.

From the German of Friedrich de la Motte Fouque. I vol. 12mo., pp.

238. New York: James Miller.

THIODOLF, THE ICELANDER. A Romance. From the German of the Baron de la

Motte Fouque. 12mo., pp. 308. New York: James Miller.

For a man of refined and cultivated taste we know of hardly any more

delightful literary recreation than to turn from the novels of our own

day to one of the exquisite romances of La Motte Fouque. There is a

nobleness of sentiment in his wild and beautiful fancies which seems

to lift us out of this world into a higher sphere. All his writings

are pervaded by an ideal Christian chivalry, {143} spiritualizing and

refining the supernatural machinery which he is so fond of borrowing

from the old Norse legends. No other author has ever treated the

Northern mythology so well; because no other has attempted to give us

its beauties without its grossness. The gods and heroes of the

Norsemen have been very much in fashion of late years; but take almost

any of the Scandinavian tales recently translated--tales which, if

they have any moral, seem to inculcate the morality of lying and

cheating, and the virtue of strong muscles and how immeasurably finer

and more beautiful by the side of them appear the fairy legends which

Fouque interweaves with his romances, mingling old superstitions with

Christian faith and virtues, in so delicate a manner that we see no

incongruity in the association. This mutual adaptation, if we may call

it so, he effects partly by transporting us back to those early times

when the faith was as yet only half-rooted in the Northern soil, and

when even many Christian converts clung almost unconsciously to some

of their old pagan beliefs; partly by the genuine religious spirit

which inspires every page of his books, no matter what their subject;

and partly by the allegorical significance which his romances

generally convey. So from tales of water-sprites and evil spirits,

devils, dwarfs, and all manner of supernatural appearances, we rise

with the feeling that we have been reading a lesson of piety, truth,

integrity, and honor. Carlyle calls the chivalry of Fouque more

extravagant than that which we supposed Cervantes had abolished; but

we are far from agreeing in such a judgment. A chivalry which rests

upon "wise and pious thoughts, treasured in a pure heart," deserves

something better to be said of it.

The three tales whose titles are given above are specimens of three

somewhat different styles in which Fouque treats his darling subject

of Christian knighthood. The story of "Undine" has always been a pet

in every language of Europe. Sir Walter Scott called it "ravishing;"

Coleridge expressed unbounded admiration of it; the author himself

termed it his darling child. For the tale of "Sintram" we have a

particular affection. As a work of art, it is not to be compared with

the former: it has but little of that tender aerial fancy which makes

the story of the {144} water-sprite so inexpressibly graceful; but

there is a sombre beauty in it which is not less captivating. It is a

story of temptation and trial, of battle with self and triumph over

sin. Its allegorical meaning is more distinct than that of Undine; it

speaks more unmistakably of faith and heroic virtue. "Thiodolf, the

Icelander," is a picture of Norse and Byzantine manners in the tenth

century, and presents an interesting contrast between the rough

manliness of the former and the luxury of the court of Constantinople.

To the merits of wealth of imagination, skilful delineation of

character, and dramatic power of narration, it is said to add

historical accuracy.

OUR FARM OF FOUR ACRES, AND THE MONEY WE MADE BY IT. 12mo., pp. 128.

New York: James Miller.

It is no slight proof of the merit of this little book that it has

gone through at least twelve editions in England, and had so many

imitators that it may almost be called the founder of a school of

literature. Its popularity is still undiminished, and promises long to

continue so. Hardly any one can fail of being interested in this

simple narrative of the blunders, mishaps, and final triumphs of two

city-bred sisters, in their effort to keep a little farm and make it

pay; but to those who, either for health's sake or economy, are about

entering on a similar enterprise, we cannot too strongly recommend it.

It is so practical that we cannot doubt it is all true--indeed its

directness and air of truth and good sense are the secrets of its

remarkable success. We commend it to our readers as an interesting

exemplification of a truth which ought to be more widely known than it

is--that with proper management a small family on a small place in the

country can raise all their own vegetables, not only to their great

comfort, but with considerable pecuniary profit. Men who spend

half-a-year's income in the rent of a city house would do well to take

to heart the lessons of this little book.

THE IRVINGTON STORIES. By M. E. Dodge. Illustrated by F. O. C. Darley.

16mo., pp. 256. New York: James O'Kane.

This is a collection of tales for young people, manufactured with

considerable {145} taste and neatness. Some of the stories bear a good

moral, distinctly brought out.

REPLY TO THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINER ON CATHOLICITY AND NATURALISM.

8vo., pp. 24. Boston: Patrick Donahoe.

The _Christian Examiner_ for January, 1865, contained an article on

"The Order of St. Paul the Apostle, and the New Catholic Church," in

which the writer, after describing a visit to the Paulist

establishment in Fifty-ninth street, and representing Father Hecker

and his companions as being engaged in the attempt to found a new

Catholic Church, passed on to the consideration of the question what

form of religion is best adapted to the wants of the American people.

It was a remarkable article--remarkable not only for its graceful

diction, but for its curious admissions of the failure of

Protestantism as a religious system. "The process of disintegration,"

says the _Examiner_, "is going forward with immense rapidity

throughout Protestant Christendom. Organizations are splitting

asunder, institutions are falling into decay, customs are becoming

uncustomary, usages are perishing from neglect, sacraments are

deserted by the multitude, creeds are decomposing under the action of

liberal studies and independent thought." But from these falling ruins

mankind will seek refuge not in the bosom of the Catholic Church, says

the Christian Examiner, but in Naturalism. The object of the pamphlet

before us is to show, after correcting certain misstatements

concerning the congregation of Paulists, that Naturalism is utterly

unable to satisfy those longings of the heart which, as the _Examiner_

confesses, no Protestant sect can appease.

PASTORAL LETTER OF THE MOST REV. MARTIN JOHN SPALDING, D. D.,

ARCHBISHOP OF BALTIMORE, ETC., TOGETHER WITH THE LATE ENCYCLICAL OF

THE HOLY FATHER, AND THE SYLLABUS OF ERRORS CONDEMNED. 8vo., pp. 43.

Baltimore: Kelly & Piet.

In promulgating the jubilee lately proclaimed by the sovereign

pontiff, the Most Rev. Archbishop Spalding takes occasion to make a

few timely remarks on the Encyclical, the character of Pius IX., the

temporal power of the Popes, and the errors recently condemned. He

explains the true purport of the much-abused Encyclical, shows against

whom it is directed--namely, the European radicals and infidels--and

proves that it never was the intention of the Pope, as has been

alleged, to assail the institutions of this country. In view of the

absurd mistranslations of the Encyclical which have been published by

the Protestant press, Catholics will be glad to have the correct

English version of that important document, which is given by way of

appendix to the pastoral.

We have received the _First Supplement to the Catalogue of the Library

of the Young Men's Association of the City of Milwaukee_, with the

annual report of the Board of Directors for 1863.

------------------

THE CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. I., NO. 2. MAY, 1865.

From the Dublin Review.

HEDWIGE, QUEEN OF POLAND.

Hedwige was the youngest daughter of Lewis, nephew and successor to

Casimir the Great, who, on account of the preference he evinced for

his Hungarian subjects, drew upon himself the continued ill-will of

the nation he was called upon to govern. Finding he was unable to cope

with the numerous factions everywhere ready to oppose him, he, not

without many humiliating concessions to the nobles of Poland, induced

them to elect as his successor his daughter Maria, wife of Sigismund,

Marquis of Brandenburg (afterward emperor), and having appointed the

Duke of Oppelen regent of the kingdom, retired to his native Hungary,

unwilling to relinquish the shadow of the sceptre which continually

evaded his grasp.

On his death, which happened in 1382, Poland became the theatre of

intestine disorders fomented by the turbulent nobles, who,

notwithstanding the allegiance they had sworn to the Princess Maria,

refused to allow her even to enter the kingdom. Sigismund was not,

however, inclined thus easily to forego his wife's claims; and as the

Lord of Mazovia at the same time aspired to the vacant throne, many of

the provinces became so desolated by civil war that the leaders of the

adverse factions threw down their arms, and simultaneously agreed to

offer the crown to the Princess Hedwige, then residing in Hungary

under the care of her mother Elizabeth. By no means approving of a

plan which thus unceremoniously excluded her eldest daughter from the

throne, the queen dowager endeavored to oppose injustice by policy.

Hedwige was at the time only fourteen years of age, and the deputies

were informed that, as the princess was too young to undertake the

heavy responsibilities of sovereignty, her brother-in-law Sigismund

must act in her stead until such time as she herself should be

considered capable of assuming the reins of government. This stratagem

did not succeed; the duke was not allowed to cross the frontiers of

Poland, and Elizabeth found herself compelled to part with her

daughter, if she would not see the crown placed on the brow of

whomever the diet might elect.

Now commenced the trials of the young Hedwige, who was thus early

called upon to exercise those virtues of heroic fortitude, patient

endurance, and self-denial which rendered her life a sort of continual

martyrdom, a sacrifice daily offered up at the shrines of religion and

patriotism. At the early age of four years she had been affianced to

William, Duke of Austria, {146} who, in accordance with the custom of

the times, had been educated in Hungary; his affection for his

betrothed growing with his growth, and increasing with his years.

Ambition had no charms for Hedwige; her fervent piety, shrinking

modesty, and feminine timidity sought to conceal, not only her

extraordinary beauty, but those rare mental endowments of which she

was possessed. Bitter were the tears shed by this gentle girl, when

her mother, alarmed at the menaces of the Polish nobles, informed her

she must immediately depart for Cracow, under the protection of

Cardinal Demetrius, Bishop of Strigonia, who was pledged to deliver

her into the hands of those whom she was disposed to regard rather as

her masters than as her subjects. There had been one stipulation made,

which, had she been aware of its existence, would have added a sharper

pang to the already poignant anguish of Hedwige: the Poles required

that their young sovereign should marry only with the consent of the

diet, and that her husband should not only reside constantly in

Poland, but pledge himself never to attempt to render that country

dependent on any other power. Although aware of the difficulties thus

thrown in the way of her union with Duke William, her mother had

subscribed to these conditions; and Hedwige, having been joyfully

received by the prelates and nobles of her adopted country, was

solemnly crowned in the cathedral at Cracow, October 15, 1385, being

the festival of her patron, St. Hedwige. Her youth, loveliness, grace,

and intellectual endowments won from the fierce chieftains an

enthusiastic affection which had been denied to the too yielding

Lewis; their national pride was flattered, their loyalty awakened, by

the innocent fascinations of their young sovereign, and they almost

sought to defer the time which, in her husband, would necessarily give

them a ruler of sterner mould. Nor was Hedwige undeserving of the

exalted station she had been compelled to fill: a worthy descendant of

the sainted Lewis, her every word and action waa marked by a gravity

and maturity which bore witness to the supernatural motives and

heavenly wisdom by which it was inspired; and yet, in the silence of

her chamber, many were the tears she shed over the memory of ties

severed, she feared, for ever. Amongst the earliest candidates for her

hand was Ziemovit, Duke of Mazovia, already mentioned as one of the

competitors for the crown after the death of her father; but the

Poles, still smarting from the effects of his unbridled ambition,

dismissed his messengers with a refusal couched in terms of

undisguised contempt. The question of her marriage once agitated, the

mind of Hedwige naturally turned to him on whom her heart was

unalterably fixed, and whom from her childhood she had been taught to

consider as her future husband; but an alliance with the house of

Austria formed no part of Polish policy, and neither the wishes nor

the entreaties of their queen could induce the diet to entertain the

idea for a moment; in short, their whole energy was employed in

bringing about a union which, however disagreeable to the young

sovereign, was likely to be in every way advantageous to the country

and favorable to the interests of religion.

Jagello, the pagan Duke of Lithuania, was from his proximity and the

extent of his possessions (comprising Samogitia and a large portion of

Russia [Footnote 41]) a formidable enemy to Poland. Fame was not slow

in wafting to his ears rumors of the beauty and accomplishments of

Hedwige, which being more than corroborated by ambassadors employed to

ascertain the truth, the impetuous Jagello determined to secure the

prize, even at the cost of national independence. The idolatry of the

Lithuanians and the early betrothal of Hedwige to Duke William were

the chief obstacles with which he had to contend; but, after a brief

{147} deliberation, an embassy was despatched, headed by Skirgello,

brother to the grand-duke, and bearing the most costly presents;

Jagello himself being with difficulty dissuaded from accompanying them

in person. The envoys were admitted into the presence of the council,

at which the queen herself presided, and the prince proceeded to lay

before the astonished nobles the offers of the barbarian suitor,

offers too tempting to be weighed in the balance against such a trifle

as a girl's happiness, or the violation of what these overbearing

politicians were pleased to term a mere childish engagement,

contracted before the parties were able to judge for themselves. After

a long harangue, in which Skirgello represented how vainly the most

illustrious potentates and the most powerful rulers had hitherto

endeavored to effect the conversion of Lithuania, he offered as "a

tribute to the charms of the queen" that Jagello and his brothers,

together with the princes, lords, and people of Lithuania and

Samogitia, should at once embrace the Catholic faith; that all the

Christian captives should be restored unransomed; and the _whole of

their extensive dominions be incorporated with Poland_; the grand-duke

also pledging himself to reconquer for that country Pomerania,

Silesia, and whatever other territories had been torn from Poland by

neighboring states; and, finally, promising to make good to the Poles

the sum of two hundred thousand florins, which had been sent to

William of Austria as the dowry forfeited by the non-fulfilment of the

engagement entered into by their late king Lewis. A murmur of applause

at this unprecedented generosity ran through the assembly; the nobles

hailed the prospect of so unlooked-for an augmentation of national

power and security; and the bishops could not but rejoice at the

prospect of rescuing so many souls from the darkness of heathenism,

and securing at one and the same time the propagation of the Catholic

faith and the peace of Poland. But the queen herself shared not these

feelings of satisfaction: no sooner had Skirgello ceased than she

started from her seat, cast a hasty glance round the assembly, and, as

if reading her fate in the countenances of the nobles, buried her face

in her hands and burst into a flood of tears. All attempts to soothe

and pacify her were in vain: in a strain of passionate eloquence,

which was not without its effect, she pleaded her affection for Duke

William, the sacred nature of the engagement by which she was pledged

to become his wife, pointed to the ring on her finger, and reminded an

aged prelate who had accompanied her from Hungary that he had himself

witnessed their being laid in the same cradle at the ceremony of their

betrothal. It was impossible to behold unmoved the anguish of so

gentle a creature; not a few of the younger chieftains espoused the

cause of their sovereign; and, at the urgent solicitation of Hedwige,

it was finally determined that the Lithuanian ambassadors, accompanied

by three Polish nobles, should repair to Buda for the purpose of

consulting her mother, the Queen of Hungary.

[Footnote 41: The territories of many of the Russian or Ruthenian

dukes which were conquered by the Lithuanian pagans.]

But Elizabeth, though inaccessible to the temptations of worldly

ambition, was too pious, too self-denying, to allow maternal affection

to preponderate over the interests of religion. Aware that the

betrothal of her daughter to the Duke of Austria had never been

renewed from the time of their infancy, she, without a moment's

hesitation, replied that, for her own part, she desired nothing, but

that the queen ought to sacrifice every human feeling for the glory of

Christianity and the welfare of Poland. To Hedwige herself she wrote

affectionately, though firmly, bidding her lay every natural

inclination at the foot of the cross, and desiring her to praise that

God who had chosen so unworthy an instrument as the means by which the

pure splendor of Catholicity should penetrate the darkness of

Lithuania and the other pagan nations. Elizabeth was aware {148} of

the real power of religion over the mind of her child, and doubted not

but that, after the first paroxysm of grief had subsided, she should

be able to overcome by its means the violence of her daughter's

repugnance to the proposed measure. In order to give a color of

impartiality to their proceedings, a diet was convoked at Cracow,

immediately on the return of the embassy, to deliberate on the

relative claims of Jagello, William of Austria, and the Dukes of

Mazovia and Oppelen, all of whom aspired to the hand of Hedwige and

the crown of Poland. The discussion was long and stormy, for amongst

those nobles more immediately around the queen's person there were

many, including a large body of ecclesiastics, who, although convinced

that no lawful impediment existed to the marriage, yet shrank from the

cruelty of uniting the gentle princess to a barbarian; and these

failed not to insist upon the insult which would be implied by such a

choice to the native Catholic princes. The majority, however, were of

a different opinion, and at the close of the diet it was decided that

an ambassador should be despatched to Jagello, inviting him to Cracow

for the purpose of continuing the negotiations in his own person. But

William of Austria was too secure in the justice of his cause and the

affection of his betrothed to resign his pretensions without an

effort; and his ardor being by no means diminished by a letter which

he received from the queen herself, imploring him to hasten to her

assistance, he placed himself at the head of a numerous retinue, and,

with a treasure by which he hoped to purchase the good-will of the

adverse faction, appeared so suddenly at Cracow as to deprive his

opponents of their self-possession. The determination of Hedwige to

unite herself to the object of her early and deep affection was loudly

expressed, and, as there were many powerful leaders--among others,

Gniewosz, Vice-chamberlain of Cracow--who espoused her cause, and

rallied round Duke William, the Polish nobles, not daring openly to

oppose their sovereign, were on the point of abandoning the cause of

Jagello, when Dobeslas, Castellain of Cracow, one of the staunchest

supporters of the Lithuanian alliance, resolved at any risk to prevent

the meeting of the lovers, and actually went so far as to refuse the

young prince admission into the castle, where the queen at the time

was residing, not only drawing his sword, but dragging the duke with

him over the drawbridge, which he commanded to be immediately lowered.

William, thus repulsed, fixed his quarters at the Franciscan

monastery; and Hedwige, fired by the insult, rode forth accompanied by

a chosen body of knights and her female attendants, determined by the

completion of her marriage to place an insuperable bar between her and

Jagello.

In the refectory of the monastery, the queen and the prince at length

met; and, after several hours spent in considering how best to avert

the separation with which they were threatened, it was arranged that

William should introduce himself privately into the castle of Cracow,

where they were to be united by the queen's confessor. Some time

elapsed before this plan could be carried into execution; for although

even Dobeslas hesitated to confine his sovereign within her own

palace, the castle gates were kept shut against the entrance of the

Duke of Austria. Exasperated at this continued opposition, and her

affection augmented by the presence of its object, from whom the

arrival, daily expected, of Jagello would divide her for ever, Hedwige

determined to admit the prince disguised as one of her household, and

a day was accordingly fixed for the execution of this romantic

project. By some means or other the whole plan came to the knowledge

of the vigilant castellain; the adventurous prince was seized in a

passage leading to the royal apartments, loaded with insult, and

driven from the palace, within the walls of which the queen now found

herself a prisoner. {149} It was in vain she wept, and implored to be

allowed to see her betrothed once more, if only to bid him farewell;

her letters were intercepted, her attendants became spies on her

movements, and, on the young prince presenting himself before the

gates, his life was threatened by the barons who remained within the

fortress. This was too much; alarmed for her lover's safety, indignant

at the restraint to which she was subjected, the passion of the girl

triumphed over the dignity of the sovereign. Quitting her apartment,

she hurried to the great gate, which, as she apprehended, was secured

in such a manner as to baffle all her efforts; trembling with fear,

and eager only to effect her escape, she called for a hatchet, and,

raising it with both hands, repeatedly struck the locks and bolts that

prevented her egress. The childish simplicity of the attempt, the

agony depicted in the beautiful and innocent countenance of their

mistress, so touched the hearts of the rude soldiery, that, but for

their dread of the nobles, Hedwige would through their means have

effected her purpose. As it was, they offered no opposition, but stood

in mournful and respectful silence; when the venerable Demetrius,

grand-treasurer of the kingdom, approached, and falling on his knees,

implored her to be calm, and to sacrifice her own happiness, if not to

the wishes of her subjects and the welfare of her country, at least to

the interests of religion. At the sight of that aged man, whose thin

white hairs and sorrowful countenance inspired both reverence and

affection, the queen paused, and, giving him her hand, burst into an

agony of tears; then, hurrying to her oratory, she threw herself on

the ground before an image of the Blessed Virgin, where, after a sharp

interior conflict, she succeeded in resigning herself to what she now

believed to be the will of God--embracing for his sake the heavy cross

which she was to bear for the remainder of her life.

Meanwhile Duke William, to escape the vengeance of the wrathful

barons, was compelled to quit Poland, leaving his now useless wealth

in the charge of the vice-chamberlain, who still apparently continued

his friend. Not long after his departure, Jagello, at the head of a

numerous army, and attended by his two brothers, crossed the

frontiers, determined, as it seemed, to prosecute his suit. At the

first rumor of his approach, the most powerful and influential among

the nobles repaired to Cracow, where prayers, remonstrances, and even

menaces were employed to induce the queen to accept the hand of the

barbarian prince. But to all their eloquence Hedwige turned a deaf

ear: in vain did agents, despatched for the purpose, represent the

duke as handsome in person, princely and dignified in manner; her

conscience was troubled, duty had enlisted on the same side as

feeling, and the contest again commenced. Setting inclination aside,

how dared she break the solemn compact she had made with the Duke of

Austria? She persisted in regarding her proposed marriage with Jagello

as nothing short of an act of criminal infidelity; and, independently

of the affliction of her heart, her soul became a prey to the most

violent remorse. To obtain the consent of Duke William to their

separation was of course out of the question; and before the puzzled

council could arrive at any decision, Jagello entered Cracow, more in

the style of a conqueror than a suitor, and repaired at once to the

castle, where he found the queen surrounded by a court surpassing in

beauty and magnificence all that his imagination had pictured. Pale as

she was from the intensity of her sufferings, he was dazzled, almost

bewildered, by the childlike innocence and winning loveliness of

Hedwige; and his admiration was expressed the following day by the

revenues of a province being laid at her feet in the shape of jewels

and robes of the most costly description. But the queen was more

obdurate than ever. With her knowledge and consent Duke William had

returned to Cracow, though compelled {150} to resort to a variety of

disguises to escape the fury of the barons, now determined to put an

end to his pretensions and his existence together; and it is said

that, in order to avoid his indefatigable enemy, Dobeslas, he was once

compelled to seek refuge in a large chimney. Forced eventually to quit

the capital without seeing Hedwige, he still loitered in the environs;

nor did he return to Austria until her marriage with Jagello

terminated those hopes which he had cherished from his earliest

infancy. In order to quiet the queen's religious scruples, a letter is

said to have arrived from Rome, in which, after pronouncing that the

early betrothal involved no impediment to the marriage, the Holy

Father placed before her the merits of the offering she was called

upon to make, reminding her of the torments so cheerfully suffered by

the early martyrs for the honor of God, and calling upon her to

imitate their example. This statement, however, is not sufficiently

authenticated.

After the severest interior trials, days spent in tears, fasting, and

the most earnest petitions to the throne of Divine grace, the queen

received strength to consummate the sacrifice demanded from her.

Naturally ardent and impulsive, and at an age when every sentiment is

freshest and most keen, she was called upon to extirpate from her

heart an affection not only deep but legitimate, to inflict a wound on

the object of her tenderest love, and, finally, to transfer her

devotion to one whom she had hitherto regarded with feelings of

unqualified aversion. The path of highest, because self-sacrificing

duty, once clear before her, she determined to act with generosity

toward a God from whom she had received so much: her beauty, talents,

the virtues with which she was adorned, were so many precious gifts to

be placed at the disposal of him by whom they had been bestowed.

Covering herself with a thick black veil, she proceeded on foot to the

cathedral of Cracow, and, repairing to one of the side chapels, threw

herself on her knees, where for three hours, with clasped hands and

streaming eyes, she wrestled with the violent feeling that struggled

in her bosom. At length she rose with a detached heart, having laid at

the foot of the cross her affections, her will, her hopes of earthly

happiness; offering herself, and all that belonged to her, as a

perpetual holocaust to her crucified Redeemer, and esteeming herself

happy so that by this sacrifice she might purchase the salvation of

those precious souls for whom he had shed his blood. Before leaving

the chapel she cast her veil over the crucifix, hoping under that pall

to bury all of human infirmity that might still linger round her

heart, and then hastened to establish a foundation for the perpetual

renewal of this type of her "soul's sorrow." This foundation yet

exists: within the same chapel the crucifix still stands, covered by

its sable drapery, being commonly known as _the Crucifix of Hedwige_.

The queen's consent to the Lithuanian alliance endeared her still more

to the hearts of her subjects, who regarded her as a martyr to the

peace of Poland. On the 14th of February, 1386, her marriage was

celebrated with becoming solemnity, Jagello having previously received

the sacrament of baptism; shortly afterward he was crowned, in the

presence of Hedwige, under his Christian name of Wladislas, which he

had taken in deference to the wishes of the Poles. The unassuming

piety, gentle disposition, and great learning of the young queen

commanded at once the respect and admiration of her husband. So great,

indeed, was his opinion of her prudence, that, being obliged to march

into Upper Poland to crush the rebellion of the Palatine of Posnia, he

took her with him in the capacity of mediatrix between himself and the

disaffected leaders who had for months desolated that province. This

mission of mercy was most acceptable to Hedwige; after the example of

the sainted {151} Elizabeth of Hungary, her generosity toward the

widows, orphans, and those who had lost their substance in this

devastating war, was boundless; whilst ministering to their wants, she

failed not, at the same time, to sympathize with their distress; and,

like an angel of peace, she would stand between her husband and the

objects of his indignation. On one occasion, to supply the necessities

of the court, so heavy a contribution had been laid upon the peasants

that their cattle did not escape; watching their opportunity, they,

with their wives and children, threw themselves in the queen's path,

filling the air with their cries, and conjuring her to prevent their

utter ruin. Hedwige, deeply affected, dismounted from her palfrey,

and, kneeling by their side, besought her husband not to sanction so

flagrant an act of oppression; and when the satisfied peasants retired

fully indemnified for their loss, she is said to have exclaimed,

"Their cattle are restored, but who will recompense them for their

tears?" Having reduced the country to obedience, it was time for

Wladislas to turn his attention to his Lithuanian territories, more

especially Russia Nigra, which, although governed by its own princes,

was compelled to do homage to the house of Jagello. Pomerania, which

by his marriage articles he was pledged to recover for Poland, had

been usurped by the Teutonic Knights, who, sensible with how

formidable an opponent they had to contend, endeavored to frustrate

his intentions, first by carrying fire and sword into Lithuania, and

then by exciting a revolution in favor of Duke Andrew, to whom, as

well as to the heathen nobles, the alliance (by which their country

was rendered dependent on Poland) was displeasing. Olgerd, the father

of Wladislas, was a fierce pagan, and his thirteen sons, if we except

the elder, inherited his cruelty, treachery, and rapacity. The

promised revolution in religion was offensive to the majority of the

people; and, to their shame be it spoken, the Teutonic Knights (whose

order was first established to defend the Christian faith against the

assaults of infidels) scrupled not to adopt a crooked policy, and, by

inciting the Lithuanians against their sovereign, threw every

impediment in the way of their conversion. Before the king had any

suspicion of his intentions, the grand-master had crossed the

frontiers, the duchy was laid waste, and many important fortresses

were already in the hands of the order.

Wladislas, then absent in Upper Poland, despatched Skirgello into

Lithuania, who, though haughty, licentious, and revengeful, was a

brave and skilful general. Duke Andrew fled before the forces of his

brother, and the latter attacked the Knights with an impetuosity that

compelled them speedily to evacuate their conquests. The arrival of

the king, with a number of learned prelates, and a large body of

clergy, proved he was quite in earnest regarding the conversion of his

subjects, hitherto immersed in the grossest and most degrading

idolatry. Trees, serpents, vipers, were the inferior objects of their

adoration; gloomy forests and damp caverns their temples; and the most

disgusting and venomous reptiles were cherished in every family as

household gods. But, as with the eastern Magi, fire was the principal

object of the Lithuanian worship; priests were appointed whose office

it was to tend the sacred flame, their lives paying the penalty if it

were allowed to expire. At Wilna, the capital of the duchy, was a

temple of the sun; and should that luminary chance to be eclipsed, or

even clouded, the people fled thither in the utmost terror, eager to

appease the deity by rivers of human blood, which poured forth at the

command of the Ziutz, or high priest, the victims vying with each

other in the severity of their self-inflicted torments.

As the most effectual method of at once removing the errors of this

infatuated people, Wladislas ordered the forests to be cut down, the

serpents to {152} be crushed under the feet of his soldiers, and,

after extinguishing with his own hand the sacred fires, he caused the

temples to be demolished; thus demonstrating to the Lithuanians the

impotency of their gods. With the cowardice ever attendant on

ignorance and superstition, the pagans cast themselves with their

faces to the earth, expecting to see the sacrilegious strangers

blasted by the power of the profaned element; but, no such results

following, they gradually lost confidence in their deities, and of

their own free will desired to be instructed in the doctrines of

Christ. Their theological knowledge was necessarily confined to the

Lord's Prayer and the Creed, and a day was fixed for the commencement

of the ceremony of baptism. As, on account of the number of

catechumens, it was impossible to administer the sacrament to each

individual separately, the nobles and their families, after leaving

the sacred font, prepared to act as sponsors to the people, who, being

divided into groups of either sex, were sprinkled by the bishops and

priests, every division receiving the same name.

Hedwige had accompanied her husband to Lithuania, and was gratified by

witnessing the zeal with which he assisted the priests in their

arduous undertaking; whilst Wladislas, aware of the value of his young

auxiliary, was not disappointed by the degree of enthusiastic

veneration with which the new Christians regarded the sovereign who,

at the age of sixteen, had conferred upon them peace and the light of

the true faith. Hedwige was admirably adapted for this task: in her

character there was no alloy of passion, pride, or frivolity; an enemy

to the luxury and pomp which her sex and rank might have seemed to

warrant, her fasts were rigid and her bodily mortifications severe.

Neither did her fervor abate during her sojourn in the duchy. By her

profuse liberality the cathedral of St. Stanislas of Wilna was

completed. Nor did she neglect the other churches and religious

foundations which, by her advice, her husband commenced in the

principal cities of his kingdom. Before quitting Lithuania, the

queen's heart was wrung by the intelligence she received of a domestic

tragedy of the deepest dye. Her mother, the holy and virtuous

Elizabeth of Hungary, had during a popular insurrection been put to a

cruel death; whilst her sister Maria, who had fallen into the power of

the rebel nobles, having narrowly escaped the same fate, was confined

in an isolated fortress, subject to the most rigorous and ignominious

treatment.

Paganism being at length thoroughly rooted out of Lithuania, a

bishopric firmly established at Wilna, and the seven parishes in its

vicinity amply supplied with ecclesiastics, Wladislas, preparatory to

his return to Poland, appointed his brother Skirgello viceroy of the

duchy. This was a fatal error. The proud barbarians, little disposed

to dependence on a country they had been accustomed to despoil at

pleasure, writhed under the yoke of the fierce tyrant, whose rule soon

became odious, and whose vices were rendered more apparent by the

contrast which his character presented to that of his cousin Vitowda,

whom, as a check upon his well-known ferocity, Wladislas had

designated as his colleague. Scarcely had the court returned to

Poland, when the young prince, amiable, brave, and generous, by

opposing his cousin's unjust and cruel actions, drew upon himself the

vengeance of the latter, and, in order to save his life, was obliged

to seek refuge in Pomerania, from whence, as his honor and patriotism

alike forbade his assisting the Teutonic Knights in their designs upon

his country, he applied to the king for protection.

Wladislas, of a weak and jealous disposition, was, however, at the

time too much occupied in attending to foul calumnies uttered against

the spotless virtue of his queen to give heed to the application.

Notwithstanding the prudence of her general conduct, and {153} the

tender devotion evinced by Hedwige toward her husband, the admiration

which her beauty and sweetness of disposition commanded from all who

approached her was a continual thorn in his side. Her former love for

the Duke of Austria and repugnance to himself haunted him night and

day, until he actually conceived suspicions injurious to her fidelity.

In the polluted atmosphere of a court there were not wanting those

who, for their own aggrandizement, were base enough to resort to

falsehood in order to destroy an influence at which the wicked alone

had cause to tremble. It was whispered in the ear of the unfortunate

monarch that his queen had held frequent, and of course clandestine,

interviews with Duke William, until, half frantic, he one day publicly

reproached her, and, turning to the assembled bishops, wildly demanded

a divorce. The proud nobles indignantly interposed, many a blade

rattled in its sheath, eager to vindicate the innocence of one who, in

their eyes, was purity itself; but Hedwige calmly arose, and with

matronly dignity demanded the name of her accuser, and a solemn trial,

according to the custom of her country. There was a dead silence, a

pause; and then, trembling and abashed before the virtue he had

maligned, the Vice-chamberlain Gniewosz, before mentioned as the

friend of Duke William (whose wealth he had not failed to

appropriate), stepped reluctantly forward. A murmur of surprise and

wrath resounded through the council-chamber: many a sword was drawn,

as though eager for the blood of the offender; but the ecclesiastics

having at length calmed the tumult, the case was appointed to be

judged at the diet of Wislica.

The queen's innocence was affirmed on oath by herself and her whole

household, after which the castellain, John Tenczynski, with twelve

knights of noble blood and unsullied honor, solemnly swore to the

falsehood of the accusation, and, throwing down their gauntlets,

defied to mortal combat all who should gainsay their assertion. None,

however, appeared to do battle in so bad a cause; and the convicted

traitor, silenced and confounded, sank on his knees, confessed his

guilt, and implored the mercy of her he had so foully aspersed. The

senate, in deference to the wishes of Hedwige, spared his life; but he

was compelled to crouch under a bench, imitate the barking of a dog,

and declare that, like that animal, he had dared to snarl against his

chaste and virtuous sovereign. [Footnote 42] This done, he was

deprived of his office, and banished the court; and Wladislas hastened

to beg the forgiveness of his injured wife.

[Footnote 42: This was a portion of the punishment specially awarded

by the penal code of Poland to the crime of calumny. Like many other

punishments of those ages, it was symbolical in its character. (See

the valuable work of Albert du Boys, _Histoire du Droit Criminel des

Peuples Modernes_, liv. ii.; chap. vii.) Similar penalties had been

common in Poland from early times. Thus we find Boloslas the Great

inviting to a banquet and vapor bath nobles who had been guilty of

some transgression; after the bath he administered a paternal

reproof and castigation. Hence the Polish proverb, "to give a person

a bath."]

Meanwhile Prince Vitowda, despairing of assistance and pressed on all

sides, after much hesitation joined the Teutonic Knights in an

incursion against Lithuania. The country was invaded by a numerous

army, the capital taken by storm, abandoned to pillage, and finally

destroyed by fire; no less than fourteen thousand of the inhabitants

perishing in the flames, beside numbers who were massacred without

distinction of sex or age. Fortunately the upper city was garrisoned

by Poles, who determined to hold out to the last. The slight

fortifications were speedily destroyed; but, being immediately

repaired, the siege continued so long that Skirgello had time to

assemble an army before which the besiegers were eventually obliged to

retreat. Vitowda, now too deeply compromised to draw back, though

thwarted in his designs on Upper Wilna, gained possession of many of

the frontier towns, and, encouraged by success, aimed at nothing less

than the independent sovereignty of Lithuania. He was, however,

opposed during {154} two or three campaigns by Wladislas person,

until, wearied of the war, the king had the weakness not only to sue

for peace, but to invest Vitowda with the government of the duchy.

This, as might be expected, gave great umbrage to Skirgello, and to

another brother, Swidrigal, so that Lithuania, owing to the ambition

of the rival princes, became for some time the theatre of civil

discord.

Among her other titles to admiration, we must not omit to mention that

Hedwige was a munificent patroness of learning. She hastened to

re-establish the college built by Casimir II., founded and endowed a

magnificent university at Prague for the education of the Lithuanian

youth, and superintended the translation of the Holy Scriptures into

Polish, writing with her own hands the greater part of the New

Testament. Her work was interrupted during her husband's absence by

the attack of the Hungarians on the frontiers of Poland; and it was

then that, laying aside the weakness of her sex, she felt herself

called upon to supply his place. A powerful army was levied, of which

this youthful heroine assumed the command, directing the councils of

the generals, and sharing the privations of the meanest soldier. When

she appeared on horseback in the midst of the troops, nothing could

exceed the enthusiasm of these hardy warriors; and the simplicity with

which they obeyed the slightest order of their queen was touching in

the extreme. Hedwige led her forces into Russia Nigra, and, partly by

force of arms, partly by skilful negotiations, succeeded in

reconquering the whole of that vast province, which her father Lewis

had detached from the Polish crown in order to unite it to that of his

beloved Hungary. This act of injustice was repaired by his daughter,

who thus endeared her name to the memory of succeeding generations.

The conquering army proceeded to Silesia, then usurped by the Duke of

Oppelen, where they were equally successful; so that Wladislas was

indebted for the brightest trophies of his reign to the heroism of his

wife.

Encouraged by her past success, he determined to reconduct her into

Lithuania, in hopes by her means to settle the dissensions of the

rival princes. Accordingly, in the spring of 1393, they proceeded

thither, when the disputants, subdued by the irresistible charm of her

manners, agreed to refer their claims to her arbitration. Of a solid

and mature judgment, Hedwige succeeded in pacifying them; and then, by

mutual consent, they entered into a solemn compact that in their

future differences, instead of resorting to arms, they would submit

their cause unreservedly to the arbitration of the young Queen of

Poland.

Notwithstanding its restoration to internal tranquillity, this

unfortunate duchy was continually laid waste by the Teutonic Knights;

and Wladislas, determined to hazard all on one decisive battle,

commanded forces to be levied not only in Lithuania, but in Poland.

Before the preparations were completed, an interview was arranged to

take place between the king and the grand-master, Conrad de Jungen;

but the nobility, fearing lest the irritable temper of Wladislas would

prove an insurmountable obstacle to all accommodation, implored him to

allow the queen to supply his place. On his consent, Hedwige,

accompanied by the ecclesiastics, the barons, and a magnificent

retinue, proceeded to the place of rendezvous, where she was met by

Conrad and the principal knight-commanders of the order. The terms she

proposed were equitable, and more lenient than the Teutonic Knights

had any reason to expect; but, under one trifling pretext or another,

they refused the restitution of the usurped territories on which the

king naturally insisted, and the queen was at length obliged to

return, prophesying, says the chronicler, that, after her death, their

perversity would receive its deserved punishment at the hands of her

husband. Her prediction was fulfilled. Some years afterward, on the

plains {155} between Grunnervaldt and Tannenberg, the grand-master,

with fifty thousand knights, was slain, and by this decisive victory

the order was placed at the mercy of Poland, though, from the usual

indecision of its king, the fruits of this splendid action were less

than might have been expected.

Until her early death, Hedwige continued the guardian angel of that

beloved country for which she had made her first and greatest

sacrifice; and it is likely that but for her watchfulness, its

interests would have been frequently compromised by the Lithuanian

union. Acting on this principle, she refused to recognize the

investiture of her husband's favorite, the Palatine of Cracow, with

the perpetual fief of Podolia; and, undazzled by the apparent

advantages offered by an expedition against the Tartars headed by the

great Tamerlane, she forbade the Polish generals to take part in a

campaign which, owing to the rashness of Vitowda, terminated so

fatally.

It was shortly after her unsuccessful interview with the Teutonic

Knights that, by the death of her sister Maria, the crown of Hungary

(which ought to have devolved on her husband Sigismund) became again

an object of contention. The Hungarians, attracted by the report of

her moderation, wisdom, and even military skill--not an uncommon

accomplishment in females of those times--determined to offer it to

Hedwige; but her brother-in-law, trusting to her sense of justice,

hastened to Cracow, praying her not to accept the proposal, and

earnestly soliciting her alliance. The queen, whom ambition had no

power to dazzle, consented, and a treaty advantageous to Poland was at

once concluded.

Hedwige was a good theologian, and well read in the fathers and

doctors of the Church; the works of St. Bernard and St. Ambrose, the

revelations of St. Bridget, and the sermons of holy men, being the

works in which she most delighted. In Church music she was an

enthusiast; and not long after the completion of the convent of the

Visitation, which she had caused to be erected near the gates of

Cracow, she founded the Benedictine abbey of the Holy Cross, where

office was daily recited in the Selavonian language, after the custom

of the order at Prague. She also instituted a college in honor of the

Blessed Virgin, where the Psalms were daily chanted, after an improved

method, by sixteen canons.

It was toward the close of the year 1398 that, to the great delight of

her subjects, it became evident that the union of Wladislas and

Hedwige would at length be blessed with offspring. To see the throne

filled by a descendant of their beloved sovereign had been the dearest

wish of the Polish people, and fervent had been the prayers offered

for this inestimable blessing. The enraptured Wladislas hastened to

impart his expected happiness to most of the Christian kings and

princes, not forgetting the Supreme Pontiff, Boniface IX., by whom the

merits of the young queen were so well appreciated that, six years

after her accession, he had addressed to her a letter, written with

his own hand, in which he thanked her for her affectionate devotion to

the Catholic Church, and informed her that, although it was impossible

he could accede to all the applications which might be transmitted to

the Holy See on behalf of her subjects, yet, by her adopting a

confidential sign-manual, those requests to which she individually

attached importance should be immediately granted. The Holy Father

hastened to reply in the warmest terms to the king's communication,

promising to act as sponsor to the child, who, if a boy, he desired

might be named after himself.

Unfortunately, some time before the queen's delivery, it became

necessary for her husband to quit Cracow, in order to direct an

expedition against his old enemies the Teutonic Knights. During his

absence, he wrote a long letter, in which, after desiring that the

happy event might be attended with all possible magnificence, he

entered {156} into a minute detail of the devices and embroidery to be

used in the adornment of the bed and chamber, particularly requesting

that the draperies and hangings might not lack gold, pearls, or

precious stones. This ostentatious display, though excusable in a fond

husband and a powerful monarch about to behold the completion of his

dearest wishes, was by no means in consonance with Hedwige's intense

love of Christian simplicity and poverty. We find her addressing to

her husband these few touching words, expressing, as the result

proved, that presentiment of her approaching end which has often been

accorded to saintly souls: "Seeing that I have so long renounced the

pomps of this world, it is not on that treacherous couch--to so many

the bed of death--that I would willingly be surrounded by their

glitter. It is not by the help of gold or gems that I hope to render

myself acceptable to that Almighty Father who has mercifully removed

from me the reproach of barrenness, but rather by resignation to his

will, and a sense of my own nothingness." It was remarked after this

that the queen became more recollected than ever, spending whole hours

in meditation, bestowing large alms, not only on the distressed of her

own country, but on such pilgrims as presented themselves, and

increasing her exterior mortifications; wearing a hair shirt during

Lent, and using the discipline in a manner which, considering her

condition, might have been deemed injudicious. She had ever made a

point of spending the vigil of the anniversary of her early sacrifice

at the foot of the veiled crucifix, but on this occasion, not

returning at her usual hour, one of her Hungarian attendants sought

her in the cathedral, then but dimly lighted by the massy silver lamp

suspended before the tabernacle. It was bitterly cold, the wind was

moaning through the long aisles, but there, on the marble pavement, in

an ecstacy which rendered her insensible to bodily sufferings, lay

Hedwige, she having continued in this state of abstraction from the

termination of complin, at which she invariably assisted.

At length, on the 12th of June, 1399, this holy queen gave birth to a

daughter, who was immediately baptized in the cathedral of Cracow,

receiving from the Pope's legate, at the sacred font, the name of

Elizabeth Bonifacia. The babe was weak and sickly, and the condition

of the mother so precarious that a messenger was despatched to the

army urging the immediate return of Wladislas. He arrived in time to

witness the last sigh of his so ardently desired child, though his

disappointment was completely merged in his anxiety for his wife. By

the advice of the physicians it had been determined to conceal the

death of the infant, but their precautions were vain. At the very

moment it occurred, Hedwige herself announced it to her astonished

attendants, and then humbly asked for the last sacraments of the

Church, which she received with the greatest fervor. She, however,

lingered until the 17th of July, when, the measure of her merits and

good works being full, she went to appear before the tribunal of that

God whom she had sought to glorify on earth. She died before

completing her twenty-ninth year.

A few days previously she had taken a tender leave of her distracted

husband; and, mindful to the last of the interests of Poland, she

begged him to espouse her cousin Anne, by whose claim to the throne of

the Piasts his own would be strengthened. She then drew off her

nuptial ring, as if to detach herself from all human ties, and placed

it upon his finger, and although, from motives of policy, Wladislas

successively espoused three wives, he religiously preserved this

memorial of her he had valued the most; bequeathing it as a precious

relic (and a memento to be faithful to the land which Hedwige had so

truly loved) to the Bishop of Cracow, who had saved his life in

battle. Immediately after her funeral, he retired to his Russian {157}

province, nor could he for some time be prevailed upon to return and

assume the duties of sovereignty.

There was another mourner for her loss, William of Austria, who,

notwithstanding the entreaties of his subjects, had remained single

for her sake. He was at length prevailed upon to espouse the Princess

Jane of Naples, but did not long survive the union.

The obsequies of Hedwige were celebrated by the Pope's legate with

becoming magnificence. All that honor and respect from which she had

sensitively shrunk during life was lavished on her remains; she was

interred in the cathedral of Cracow on the left of the high altar; her

memory was embalmed by her people's love, and was sanctified in their

eyes. Numerous miracles are said to have been performed at her tomb:

thither the afflicted in mind and body flocked to obtain through her

intercession that consolation which during her life she had so

cheerfully bestowed. Contrary to the general expectation, she was

never canonized; [Footnote 43] her name, however, continued to be

fondly cherished by the Poles, and by the people who under God were

indebted to her for their first knowledge of Christianity, and of whom

she might justly be styled the apostle. On her monument was graven a

Latin inscription styling her the "Star of Poland," enumerating her

virtues, lamenting her loss, and imploring the King of Glory to

receive her into his heavenly kingdom.

[Footnote 43: Polish writers give her the title of saint, though her

name is not inserted in the Martyrologies.--_Butler's Lives of the

Saints_, October 17th.]

The life of Hedwige is her best eulogium. As it has been seen, she

combined all the qualities not only of her own, but of a more advanced

age. The leisure which she could snatch from the affairs of government

she employed in study, devotion, and works of charity. True to her

principles, she at her death bequeathed her jewels and other personal

property in trust to the bishop and castellain of Cracow, for the

foundation of a college in that city. Two years afterward her wishes

were carried into effect, and the first stone was laid of the since

celebrated university.

Wladislas survived his wife thirty-five years. In his old age he was

troubled by a return of his former jealousy, thereby continually

embittering the life of his queen, a Lithuanian princess, who,

although exculpated by oath, as Hedwige had formerly been, was less

fortunate, inasmuch as she was the continual victim of fresh

suspicions. The latter years of his reign were much disturbed by the

hostilities of the Emperor Sigismund, and by the troubles occasioned

in Lithuania by the rebels, who had again combined with the Teutonic

Knights.

Wladislas died in 1434, at the age of eighty years. It is said that he

contracted his mortal sickness by being tempted to remain exposed too

long to the night air, captivated by the sweet notes of a nightingale.

Notwithstanding his faults, this monarch had many virtues; his piety

was great, and he practised severe abstinences; and although he at

times gave way to a suspicious temper, his general character was

trusting, frank, and generous even to imprudence. His suspicions, in

fact, did not originate with himself. They sprang, in the case of both

his wives, from the tongues of calumniators, to whom he listened with

a hasty credulity. He raised the glory and extended and consolidated

the dominion of Poland. He was succeeded by his son, a child of eleven

years, who had previously been, elected to the throne, but not until

Jagello had confirmed and even enlarged the privileges of the nobles.

His tardy consent, at the diet of Jedlin, roused their pride, so that

it was not until four years later that they solemnly gave their

adhesion.

It has not been our purpose to give more than a page out of the Polish

annals illustrative of the patriotic and Christian spirit of sacrifice

for which Poland's daughters have, down to the {158} present day, been

no less noted than her sons. The mind naturally reverts to the late

cruel struggle in which this generous people has once more succumbed

to the overwhelming power of Russia, and her unscrupulous employment

of the gigantic forces at her command. Europe has looked on

apathetically, and, after a few feeble diplomatic remonstrances, has

allowed the sacrifice to be completed. But the cause of Poland is

essentially the cause of Catholicism and of the Church; and this,

perhaps, may account for the small degree of sympathy it has awakened

in European governments. Russia's repression of her insurgent subjects

became from the first a religious persecution. Her aim is not to

Russify, but to decatholicize Poland. The insurrection, quenched in

blood, has been followed by a wholesale deportation of Poles into the

eastern Russian provinces, where, with their country, it is hoped they

will, ere long, lose also their faith. These are replaced by Russian

colonists transplanted into Poland. To crush, extirpate, and deport

the nobility--to leave the lower class alone upon the soil, who,

deprived of their clergy--martyred, exiled, or in bonds--may become

an easy conquest to the dominant schism--such is the plan of the

autocrat, as we have beheld it actively carried out with all its

accompanying horrors of sacrilege and ruthless barbarity. One voice

alone--that of the Father of Christendom--has been raised to

stigmatize these revolting excesses, and to reprove the iniquity of

"persecuting Catholicism in order to put down rebellion." [Footnote

44] The same voice has exhorted us to pray for our Polish brethren,

and has encouraged that suffering people to seek their deliverance

from the just and compassionate Lord of all.

[Footnote 44: The terms of the Holy Father's address have been

strangely exaggerated in many continental journals, where he is made

to refer to the subject politically, and loudly to proclaim the

justice of the Polish insurrection in that regard. The Pope entirely

restricted his animadversions on the Czar to his persecution of the

faith of his subjects.]

------

From The Lamp.

MONKS AMONG THE MONGOLS.

In tracing the progress of the various branches of science during the

Middle Ages, there is nothing more striking than the slow stages by

which a knowledge of the truth was reached on the subject of the

earth's form, and the relative positions of the various countries

which compose it. Though from the very earliest period the subject

necessarily occupied a considerable amount of attention, and though

facts began to be observed bearing upon it in the first ages after the

diffusion of mankind, and were largely multiplied in proportion as the

formation of colonies and intercommunication for purposes of commerce

or war became more frequent, yet we find very little advance made in

geographical knowledge from the days of Ptolemy, when the observations

of the ancients were most systematically collected and arranged, till

some centuries after, when the maritime enterprise of the Portuguese

impelled them to the series of discoveries which led to the doubling

of the Cape of Good Hope, and incited the genius of Columbus to the

discovery of a new world.

The cause of this slow advance of geographical, in comparison with

other branches of knowledge, was owing in some measure to the absence

of any exact records of the discoveries made, by which they might have

been communicated to others, and become the {159} starting-point for

further investigations; but still more to the imperfect means of

navigation in existence, and to those barbarian uprisings and

migrations which for centuries, at least, were perpetually changing

the state of Europe and Asia, and, by removing the landmarks of

nations, obliging geography to begin as it were anew. During the whole

of this period, however, we find evidences of the patient cultivation

of this, as of all other branches of human knowledge, within the walls

of those monastic institutions which ignorant prejudice still regards

as the haunts of idleness, but to which the learned of all creeds and

countries acknowledge their deep debt of obligation. Formal accounts

of some distant land, either written by the traveller himself or

recorded from the oral information he communicated; historical

chronicles, in which not alone the events, but all that was known of

the country is recorded, and maps in which the position of various

places is attempted to be laid down, were to be found in every

monastery both on the continent and in our own island. The holy men,

too, who preached the gospel to pagan nations were usually careful

also to enlarge their contemporaries' knowledge concerning the places

and the people among whom they labored. Thus the great St. Boniface

not only converted the Sclavonic nations to Catholic truth, but, at

the special injunction of the Pope, wrote an account of them and of

their country. St. Otho, bishop of Bamberg, did the same for the

countries upon the shores of the Baltic; the holy monk Anscaire for

Scandinavia, where he carried on his apostolic labors; and many others

might be mentioned.

Among the most valuable of the contributions to the geography of the

Middle Ages were those furnished by some monks of the order of St.

Francis, who in the middle of the thirteenth century penetrated into

the remote east, on special missions to the barbarian hordes that then

threatened the very existence of religion and civilization, and whose

enterprises, embarked in at the call of duty, are in many respects

interesting.

History, whether ancient or modern, has few chapters so remarkable as

that which records the rise of the Mongol power. A great chief, who

had ruled over an immense horde of this hitherto pastoral people,

died, leaving his eldest son an infant, and unable to command the

adhesion of his rude subjects. The young chief, as he grew to man's

estate, found his horde dispersed, and only a few families willing to

acknowledge his sway. Determined, however, to regain his power and

carry out the ambitious design which he had formed of conquering the

world, he caused an assembly of the whole people to be summoned on the

banks of the Selinga. At this assembly one of the wise men of the

tribes announced that he had had a vision, in which he saw the great

God, the disposer of kingdoms, sitting upon his throne in council, and

heard him decree that the young chief should be "Zingis Khan," or

"Greatest Chief" of the earth. The shouts of the Mongols testified

their readiness to accept the decree; Zingis Khan was raised to

supreme power over the whole Mongol race. He soon subdued the petty

opposition of his neighbors, and, establishing the seat of his empire

at Karakorum, spread his conquests in every direction with

extraordinary rapidity, and died the ruler of many nations,

bequeathing his power to sons and grandsons as warlike and ambitious

as himself. One of these, Batoo Khan, invaded Europe with an immense

army. He overran Russia, taking Moscow and its other principal places;

subdued Poland and burnt Cracow; defeated the king of Hungary in a

great battle; penetrated to Breslau, which he burned; and defeated,

near Liegnitz, an army composed of Christian volunteers from all

lands;--one of the bloodiest battles ever fought against the eastern

hordes.

It was four years after this great battle, namely, in 1246, and when

all {160} Europe was trembling at the expectation of another invasion

of the Mongols (who, having devastated the country with fire and

sword, had retired loaded with spoils), that two embassies were

despatched by the Pope, Innocent IV., to endeavor to induce them to

stop their progress into Europe, and to embrace Christianity. These

important missions were intrusted to monks of the Franciscan order;

Jean du Plan Carpini being despatched toward the north-east, where the

camp of Batoo was fixed, and Nicholas Ascelin, the year after, sent

into Syria and Persia.

Ascelin's mission, which comprised three other monks of the same order

beside himself, was the most rapidly terminated. Following the south

of the Caspian Sea, the party traversed Syria, Mesopotamia, and

Persia, and at length reached the Mongol or Tatar encampment of

Baiothnoy Khan. Being asked their object as they approached, the holy

men boldly but undiplomatically declared that they were ambassadors

from the head of the Christian world, and that their mission was to

exhort the Tatars to repent of their wicked and barbarous attacks upon

God's people. Being asked what presents they brought to the khan,

according to eastern custom, they further replied that the Pope, as

the vicar of God, was not accustomed to purchase a hearing or favor by

such means, especially from infidels. The Mongols were astonished at

this bold language used toward a race accustomed to strike terror into

all who came into contact with them. They were still more astonished

when the holy men refused, as a reprehensible act of idolatry, to make

the usual genuflexions on being admitted to the presence of the khan,

unless he first became a Catholic and acknowledged the Pope's

supremacy, when they offered to do so for the honor of God and the

Church. Hitherto the barbarians had borne patiently the display of

what they doubtless regarded as the idiosyncrasies of the good friars,

but this last refusal incited their rage; the ambassadors and their

master the Pope were insulted and threatened, and it was debated in

council whether they should not be flayed alive, their skins stuffed

with hay, and sent back to the Pope. The interposition of the khan's

mother saved their lives, however; but the Mongols could never

understand how the Holy Father, who they found from Ascelin kept no

army and had gained no battles, could have dared to send such a

message to their victorious master, whom they styled the Son of

Heaven. Ascelin and his companions were treated during their stay with

scant courtesy, and were dismissed with a letter to the Pope from

Baiothnoy Khan, commanding him, if he wished to remain in possession

of his land and heritage, to come in his own person and do homage to

him who held just sway over the whole earth. They reached as speedily

as possible the nearest Syrian port, and embarked for France. They

brought back to Europe some valuable information respecting the

country of the Mongols, though small compared with that of the other

ambassadors whom we have to mention.

Carpini was a man better fitted the office of ambassador, and able,

without sacrificing his principles or his dignity, to become "all

things to all men." He travelled with a numerous suite through Bohemia

and Poland to Kiow, then the Russian capital. A quantity of skins and

furs was given him in the northern capitals, as presents to the Tatar

chiefs, and all Europe watched with interest the result of the

embassy. On the banks of the Dnieper they first encountered the

barbarians. The purpose of their journey being demanded, they replied

that they were messengers from the Pope to the chief of the Tatar

people, to desire peace and friendship between them, and request that

they would embrace the faith of Christ, and desist from the slaughter

of the Pope's subjects, who had never injured or attempted to injure

them. Their {161} bearing made a very favorable impression. They were

conducted to the tent of the chief, where they did not hesitate to

make the usual salutations; and by his command post-horses and a

Mongol escort were given them to conduct them to Batoo Khan. They

found him at a place on the borders of the Black Sea; and, before

being admitted to an audience, had to pass between two fires, as a

charm to nullify any witchcraft or evil intention on their parts. They

found Batoo seated on a raised throne with one of his wives, and

surrounded by his court. They again made the usual genuflexions, and

then delivered their letters, which Batoo Khan read attentively, but

without giving them any reply. For some months they were "trotted

about," with a view to show them the wealth, power, and magnificence

of the people they were among; and in order that they might

communicate at home what they saw. The holy men passed Lent among the

Mongols; and, notwithstanding the fatigues they had passed through,

observed a strict fast, taking, as their only food for the forty days,

millet boiled in water, and drinking only melted snow. They witnessed

the imposing ceremony of the investiture of a Tatar chief, at which a

large number of feudatory princes were present, with no less than four

thousand messengers bearing tribute or presents from subdued or

submitted states. After the investiture, they also were ushered into

the presence; but, alas, the gifts intrusted to them and their whole

substance were already consumed. The Tatars, however, considerately

dispensed with this usual part of the proceedings; for the coarse garb

of the monks, contrasting as it did with the rich silks and garments

of gold and silver which they describe as being worn generally during

the ceremonies, must have marked them as men who possessed little of

this world's goods.

The ceremonials of investiture over, Carpini was at length called upon

to deliver his message to the newly-appointed khan; and a reply was

given, which he was desired to translate into Latin, and convey to the

Pope. It contained only meaningless expressions of good-will; but the

fact was, that the khan intended to carry the war into Europe, though

he did not desire to give notice of his intent. He offered to send

with them an ambassador to the Pope; but Carpini seems to have

surmised his purpose, and that this ambassador would really be only a

spy; and he therefore found means to evade the offer. They returned

homeward through the rigors of a Siberian winter, accompanied by

several Genoese, Pisan, and Venetian traders, who, following the papal

envoys, had found their way, in pursuit of commerce, to the Tatar

encampment. The hardships the good men endured on the return journey

were of the most fearful kind. Often, in crossing the extensive

steppes of that country, they were forced to sleep all night upon the

snow, and found themselves almost buried in snow-drifts in the

morning. Kiow was at length reached; and its people, who had given up

the adventurous travellers as lost, turned out to welcome them, as men

returned from the grave. The rest of Carpini's life was spent in

similar hardships, while preaching the gospel to the savage peoples of

Bohemia, Hungary, Denmark, and Norway; and death came to him with his

reward, at an advanced age, in the midst of his apostolic labors.

A few years after the missions of Ascelin and Carpini, another

Franciscan, named William Van Ruysbroeck, better known as Rubriquis, a

native of Brabant, was sent by Saint Louis of France on a similar

errand to the Mongols, one of whose khans, it was reported, had

embraced Christianity. He found the rumor void of foundation; and,

though received courteously, as Carpini had been, could perceive not

the slightest disposition among the barbarians to receive or even hear

the truth. At the camp of Sartach Khan, Rubriquis was commanded to

appear before the chief in his priestly vestments, and did so,

carrying a missal {162} and crucifix in his hands, an attendant

preceding him with a censer, and singing the _Salve Regina_. Everything

he had with him was examined very attentively by the khan and his

wives, especially the crucifix; but nothing came of this curiosity.

Like Carpini, the party were frequently exposed to great privations,

both at the encampments and on their journeys; and on one occasion

Rubriquis piously records: "If it had not been for the grace of God,

and the biscuit which we had brought with us, we had surely perished."

On one journey from camp to camp, they travelled for five weeks along

the banks of the Volga, nearly always on foot, and often without food.

Rubriquis' companion Barthelemi broke down under the fatigues of the

return journey; but Rubriquis persevered alone, and traversed an

immense extent of country, passing through the Caucasus, Armenia, and

Syria, before he took ship for France, to report the failure of his

mission to the pious king.

Bootless as these journeys proved, so far as their main object was

concerned, there is no doubt that in many ways they effected a large

amount of good. The religious creed of the Mongols appears to have

been confined to a belief in one God, and in a place of future rewards

and punishments. For other doctrines, or for ceremonies of religion,

they appear to have cared little. They trampled the Caliph of Bagdad,

the "successor of the Prophet," beneath their horses' hoofs at the

capture of that city; and they tolerated at their camps our Christian

monks, as well as a number of professors of the Nestorian heresy. It

was only on becoming Mohammedans that they, and the kindred but rival

race of Ottomans, became intolerant. But it is to be observed that

Islamism, which allowed polygamy, and avoided interference with their

other national habits and customs, would be likely to attract them, in

consequence of their religious indifference, as naturally as

Christianity, which sought to impose restraints upon their ferocity

and sensualism, would repel them. It is no wonder, therefore, that the

efforts of the zealous Franciscans were unsuccessful. But their zeal

and disinterestedness, their irreproachable lives and simple manners,

were not without producing an effect upon the savage men with whom

their embassies brought them into contact; and by their intercourse,

and that mercantile communication for which their travels pioneered

the way, the conduct of the Mongols toward the Christian races was

sensibly affected beneficially, while on the other side they taught

Europe to regard the Mongols as a people to be feared indeed, and

guarded against, but not as the demons incarnate they had been

pictured by the popular imagination. The benefit these devoted monks

conferred upon the progress of science and civilization is scarcely to

be over-estimated; as not only did they acquaint Europe with a number

of minute, and in the main accurate, details respecting a vast tract

of country previously unknown, and the peoples by whom it was

inhabited, but they opened up new realms to commerce, in the exploring

of which Marco Polo, Clavijo, and subsequent travellers, pushed onward

to China, Japan, and India, and prepared the way for the great

maritime discoveries of the succeeding century.

------

{163}

From The Month.

CONSTANCE SHERWOOD.

AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

BY LADY GEORGIANA FULLERTON.