Part 11 — CHAPTER XVII. (continued 4)

But then there are the legends about miracles wrought by the relics of the saints, and other miracles. Very true, my dear friend, and, no doubt, very puzzling and startling to one who has been accustomed to believe that the marvellous and miraculous passed away with the age of the Bible. But, reflect for a moment on the full extent of the admission you will have to make to the infidel rationalist, to the enemy of Christianity, who makes our whole religion mythical, if you reject all this portion of the belief of Catholics as founded on the fabulous. Read Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of England, the twenty-third book of St. Augustine’s City of God, St. Ambrose’s description of the discovery of the relics of SS. Gervasius and Protasius, and Isaac Taylor’s Ancient Christianity. You will find that we modern Catholics are in the same boat with the fathers, the prelates, the Christian people of the fifth century. We float or sink together. It seems to us, however, that before one resolves to follow the shallow and sophistical Isaac Taylor and his servile copyist, the translator of the City of God, in condemning our Christian forefathers as the authors or the dupes of a gigantic system of imposture, and before one pronounces a similar sentence on the whole body of their modern descendants, it would be well to examine somewhat carefully the evidence in the case. For instance, to confine ourselves to modern times, there are: the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius; the ecstatic virgins of the Tyrol, and the recent similar case in Belgium; the miraculous conversion of the Jew Ratisbon; the case of Mrs. Mattingly of Washington; the miracles of Lourdes; the miraculous cure of a young lady at St. Louis, attested by three physicians; the miracles wrought by the relics of F. Olivaint, the martyr of Paris; the miraculous conversion of sixteen Mohammedans at Damascus, one of whom has suffered martyrdom; and many other events, believed by a vast number of intelligent persons, upon grounds of evidence, to be supernatural and miraculous. We do not ask our Protestant friends to believe these things on our word or without evidence. We simply say that it is the part of good sense and necessary for you, if you expect to sustain your own cause against us, that you should examine these things, and, if you deny altogether this whole class of professed facts, should give good reasons for it. Will you rule the whole case out of court by a sweeping principle that these things are in themselves impossible and incredible, and therefore false? We defy you to do it without subverting the whole basis on which rests the belief in the miracles of the Old and New Testaments. Moreover, we defy any one to evade or rebut the evidence of some of the miracles we have mentioned, especially the cure of Bourriette at Lourdes and of Mrs. Mattingly at Washington. We mention these, because we have given the evidence of the former in our own pages, and of the latter in the edition

The Rev. Mr. Scribner says with great truth that “one great lesson taught by this biography [of Dr. Faber] is the lesson of charity” (p. 531). He is also so obviously correct in his remark that “charity does not require us to admit that to be true which is false,” that we wonder he took the trouble to make it. Moreover, we cannot and do not wish to dispute his right “to pronounce a flaming Roman Catholic professor a child of the devil who shows himself to be one.” But we wish to add to his statement one more, which is that justice requires, as well as charity, that one should not make atrocious charges or apply opprobrious epithets without adequate proofs and motives. Let the reverend gentleman consider, then, coolly and deliberately, and let every Protestant reader of this article consider and judge of the following sentence:

“It would not be enlightened charity which would make us think that, perhaps, after all, the licentious Roman Catholic priests of Spain and Italy, and the brutal priests of Ireland, are Christian men” (p. 531).

Charity! We do not ask your charity. We spurn with indignation any such despicable counterfeit of charity as that which is here repudiated. The Catholic Church does not need any mantle to throw over any priests who are either “licentious” or “brutal.” Let the jurisdiction over clerical delinquents, which rightfully belongs to her, be admitted and sustained by the civil governments, and she will treat them with the right kind of charity, by restraining them from all power to sin, and giving them an opportunity of doing penance. Civil governments, when they have been engaged in a conflict with the church, and Protestant leaders, have always been ready enough to encourage, to employ, and to reward these outcasts of the priesthood, or impostors who have falsely pretended to be priests. By their suborned testimony, the British government hanged Oliver Plunkett at Tyburn. For the sake of another of the same sort, an English jury fined and imprisoned the most honorable and illustrious writer in England. Examples nearer home are not wanting, and are not, we suppose, quite yet forgotten. All those worthless members of the priesthood who have been disgraced, or who deserve to be, we leave to bear by themselves the judgment both of men and of God. But on what evidence are the priests of Spain and of Italy called in general and unqualified terms “licentious,” and the priests of Ireland “brutal”? We would like to know what opportunity American Presbyterians have of knowing accurately the condition of the Spanish clergy. Blanco White, as Dr. Newman shows, furnishes no testimony which can be used to prove any such assumption as that of our very confident friend Mr. Scribner. In regard to Italy, is there any testimony given by trustworthy, competent witnesses, who have lived there long enough to know what the character of the clergy is, or anything which the violent [96] Capes, Hyacinthe, and Döllinger, do not answer the purpose for which they are wanted, because they will not utter the gross calumnies or invent the startling, sensational lies which certain infamous scribblers like Maria Monk, or mountebank lecturers like Leahy and the last new Baron, manufacture for the greedy ears of a credulous public.

The insult offered to the clergy of Ireland is equally offensive and touches us still more closely. It is not so bad an epithet which is applied to them, but, while it is vague enough to make it difficult to seize and expose the precise calumny which the writer intends to fasten, it is forcible enough to make it as insulting and opprobrious as any epithet which a gentleman could well use, or a refined and scholarly periodical suffer to appear on its pages. It is like the gross caricatures of Harper’s Magazine. We blush at the thought of noticing such an aspersion on the Irish clergy. The priests of Ireland brutal? The Irish people are not a brutal people, and it is impossible that a brutal clergy should spring from them. The clergy are loved by their people, they cannot therefore be brutally cruel; they are respected by them, and therefore they cannot be brutally vicious. They are educated men; they meet noblemen and gentlemen on equal terms. Irish society is cultivated, refined, and polished, and the Catholic priests of Ireland are respected by the respectable Protestants of Ireland. Such an accusation as this could not be made in Dublin, or on the floor of the British House of Commons, without calling derision on the head of the unlucky person who ventured to use a sort of language about Catholics, which polite society is beginning to regard as unfit for its ears.

It is no wonder that a gentleman so prejudiced against the Catholics and their religion as Mr. Scribner has shown himself to be, should be astonished or puzzled at the conversions which have taken place in the past twenty-five years:

“How one educated in the Protestant faith can become a sincere Papist it is difficult for us to understand, and to many minds the thing seems impossible” (p. 516).

“It must be remembered that for an Anglican or Puseyite to become a Catholic is a very different thing from the conversion to Romanism of any other intelligent Protestant.”

The perusal of Dr. Newman’s Lectures will show that the Protestant view and the Protestant prejudice have had as deep and strong a hold in the English Establishment as in the Kirk, and, therefore, the difficulty remains where it was. But, although we may allow that a High-churchman is logically nearer to a Catholic than is a Presbyterian, there are plenty of cases of the conversion of those who were brought up in the other Protestant churches. Hurter, Phillipps, Stolberg, and De Haller were Lutherans. Mr. Lucas was a Quaker, and F. Baker was brought up a Methodist; Dr. Brownson was a Unitarian, and Judge Burnett was a Campbellite. There are numbers of converts in the United States from the Lutherans, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, Unitarians, and other denominations. It does not alter the case that some of the best known of the converts who were brought up in various sects became Episcopalians first, and afterwards Catholics. For, as our author asserts, they became by that step “almost Catholics.” And how did they first become convinced of those “almost Catholic” doctrines, and altogether Catholic principles which they only logically followed out when they became Catholics? Then, again, we have the two Drachs, the two Ratisbons, Hermann and Veith, who were Israelites. Infidels, too, have been converted, as well as Protestants and Jews; men of every country, rank, and profession, noblemen, clergymen, statesmen, lawyers, physicians, merchants, military and naval officers, have embraced the Catholic faith. Since the time of the so-called Reformation, these converts have amounted to hundreds of thousands, and it is our opinion that there must be at least fifty thousand at the present moment in the Catholic Church of the United States. This fact must, therefore, be looked in the face, and it must be admitted that there is something in the Catholic religion which is capable of convincing the understanding and winning the homage of the most intelligent, upright, and conscientious persons, even though they have been educated in Protestantism.

Mr. Scribner admits, with a commendable candor and frankness, the sincerity and excellence of Father Faber:

“One at least who followed Dr. Newman into that communion deserves, as far as his love for the Lord Jesus and his self-sacrificing zeal are concerned, to be held as a model—Frederick William Faber. In his numerous devotional books, in all his correspondence, and in his hymns, almost all of which are of the highest order for beauty, tenderness, and spirituality, there breathe sweet humility, childlike trust in Jesus as the Saviour of the lost, and the most loving submission to the divine will.... And yet this man, whose self-sacrificing piety and loveliness of Christian character all must acknowledge, was, during almost the whole period in which he so earnestly sought the good of others by his incessant toil, as sincere and thorough a Romanist as if he had drunk in the system with his mother’s milk.... But as long as one retains with these errors (‘the monstrous doctrines of transubstantiation, the sacrifice of the Mass, the supremacy of the Pope, purgatory, the worship of the saints, and the adoration of the Virgin’), however inconsistently, the essential truths of the Gospel, his holding them is not incompatible with piety. Whoever is a true worshipper of Christ is born impossible to doubt.... One great lesson taught by this biography is the lesson of charity, and that we should be cautious in assuming that a man is not a Christian because he is a Romanist. Undoubtedly, when we obey the injunction of the Scripture to pray for ‘all saints,’ we pray for many who are in the Church of Rome. Even a Romish priest who prays to the Virgin, and who teaches the people to pray to her, as Faber certainly did, may be, like him, an humble worshipper and lover of Jesus. And though he may practise austerities, he may do so in a different spirit from that which actuates the masses in his own church, for, instead of being full of self-righteousness, he may have no confidence in his own righteousness.... We may admit, etc., and yet believe that God has a people in the Church of Rome who live and die within her pale” (pp. 515, 516, 517, 531, 532).

Let the reader peruse these passages carefully. They read very differently from the other set of extracts, and yet they occur together, mixed up with each other, and we have separated them in order to exhibit more clearly the singular clashing in the author’s mind between old, timeworn prejudices, and a new, intruding set of thoughts and sentiments derived from the perusal of F. Faber’s life and writings. We have shown how he attempts to reunite the two. But they cannot live peaceably together in the same breast, any more than could Sara and Agar in the same tent. They are incompatible. It is impossible to make out of Father Faber an exceptional case. If the charge of idolatry is sustained against us, and if, in other respects, the Roman Church deserves the epithets applied to her by our enemies, Father Faber went with his eyes open, and remained with his eyes opening wider and wider, and died in a religion which cannot be embraced without bringing death to the soul. He was no adherent of any softening, modifying, minimizing school. He was not like any of those whom Protestants are wont to regard with favor as belonging more to themselves than to us, as a sort of secret, unconscious Protestants, who are only externally united to the Roman Church, while their spirit is alien from her spirit. There was nothing of Pascal, Martin Boos, or Hyacinthe about him. He was not even one of those who stopped short at the line of strictly defined and obligatory doctrine, as if afraid of being extreme Catholics. He was no Gallican, no rigorist, no advocate of anything that might be called Neo-Catholic or Anglo-Catholic. Even in regard to minor and accessory matters, to modes and ways in which there is great room for variation in opinion and practice, he preferred those which characterize the genius of the Italian and Spanish nations, and which seem to the colder and more reserved temperament of the English to be the most remote and foreign to their tastes and intellectual habits. He endeavored to divest himself of everything which bore the semblance of conformity even in accidentals to Anglicanism, and to throw his whole soul into what he considered to be the most perfectly Catholic mould. He outran in this many both of the old English Catholics and of his fellow-converts. Especially in regard to the devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, he made himself the champion of the most exalted views concerning the power and glory of the Mother of God, and the importance of her cultus in the practical teaching and piety which is directed to the end of the conversion and perfection of souls. He followed St. Bernardine of Sienna, St. Alphonsus, and the V. Louis Grignon de Montfort, and his entire spiritual doctrine is derived Princeton Review. F. Faber’s doctrine and sanctity are purely Catholic products. The homage which he has extorted is homage paid to the school in which he learned, and the masters and models he followed. The sheep shows the quality of his pasture in the fineness and whiteness of his wool. “Men do not gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles.” If our reverend friend were more familiar with the lives of the Saints and the works of Catholic spiritual writers, he would cease to wonder at F. Faber and his works. We can point him to whole libraries of works in which the characters and actions of a multitude of similar men and women are depicted, and where countless forms of the same divine truths and holy sentiments are presented. Those who “practised austerities” to the greatest possible extent, the solitaries of the desert, the holy monks and nuns, the saints of the most heroic type, are precisely those who were marked at the same time by their entire conformity to the doctrine and spirit of the Roman Church, their profound humility, and their ardent love of the great Lord and Saviour of mankind. Contrasting F. Faber, and others like him, with the great body of fervent Catholics, as if they had a “different spirit,” the great body being “full of self-righteousness,” and these select few having “no confidence in their own righteousness,” is sheer nonsense, and an unmeaning rattle of words. We cannot all pretend to possess the genius, the loveliness of character, the extraordinary graces, or the exalted sanctity of F. Faber. But all those who hold the genuine Catholic doctrine which our holy mother the church teaches, and possess in any degree the genuine Catholic piety which she inculcates, are, so far, like F. Faber. The same spirit is in all, whether they be the frail and sinful confessing their sins with contrition, the sincere though imperfect who are striving to keep God’s commandments with more or less diligence, or the more advanced in Christian virtue and holiness of life. Those who have a false and counterfeit piety, who indulge in the spiritual sins of pride, self-confidence, and vainglory, who are willing victims to the illusions of the devil, and seek to play the part of saints in order to gratify their self-love and win applause, are like other sinners, except that they have more of the hypocrite about them. They generally become heretics, or fall into open sin, and cease acting their wearisome part, unless they are truly humbled and converted. These are the persons who have a “different spirit” from that which actuates the true children of the church. That F. Faber touched the common chords which vibrate through the great Catholic heart is shown by the fact that he is the most popular spiritual writer of this century. Three hundred thousand copies of his works, in some six or seven languages, had been sold some time ago, and they still continue

We have endeavored to bring out into strong relief what is really of the greatest moment in the article of the Princeton Review, and what the weak though violent counter-protests only make more prominent and definite, that the concessions to the personal and doctrinal purity of Father Faber are a yielding of the most grievous of the charges against Catholics and their religion. It argues, we hope, a change in the spirit and manner of maintaining the controversy with us which is coming on. The teaching of Father Faber is admitted to contain the “essential truths of the Gospel,” and his most distinctively Catholic and Roman doctrines are admitted to be “not incompatible with piety.” The conclusion is rigidly logical and irresistible, that Calvinists must consider the controversy between us as one not respecting directly, but only indirectly, the essential, fundamental dogmas and precepts of the Gospel and Christianity. Let them, then, realize this view to themselves, think in accordance with it, and regulate their conduct and language in harmony with it. Let them no longer ignore and practically abjure the Christian church from the fourth century to the present moment, and confine their sympathies to an imaginary primitive period and the sphere of modern Protestantism. Let them study ancient, mediæval, and modern Catholic authors, read history and theology, and learn to discuss the real issue with us. The Chinese method of warfare, charging upon us with shields aloft, bearing the hideous figure of the beast with seven heads and ten horns, with outcries and shouts of derision and vituperation, will not answer any longer. Those who choose to follow such tactics will soon be forced to throw their shoes into the air and take to flight. It is too late to frighten even Presbyterian children with such nonsense. The weakness and helplessness of the poor Irish Catholics, and of the handful of Catholics in England, made them for a long time the easy victims of oppression and calumny. But the day for treating the Catholics of the English-speaking world with haughtiness and contumely has passed by. We desire, however, no revenge or retaliation. We ask nothing of Protestants except that they will seek the truth. In the words of Montalembert: “The truth, and nothing but the truth—justice, and nothing but justice—let that be our sole revenge!”[97]

Aubrey de Vere.

MODERN OPERA.[98]

Gentlemen: A few days ago, it was shown you here how considerable is the influence of the fine arts upon the moral life of mankind; it was demonstrated how they can guide the human sentiment towards different ends, good or bad.

You will permit me now to call

You all know the great extent of this branch, which has captivated the favor of the public to a degree perfectly exceptional, and which has banished to the second place all other branches of dramatic art.

The reasons of this extraordinary success are not so well known. The excessive predilection of public theatregoers for the opera is of quite recent date. Only forty years ago, the masterpieces of dramatic poetry enjoyed the same favor as those of dramatic music. By the side of Mozart and Carl Maria von Weber, Shakespeare and Schiller were found on a footing of equality; to-day they must retire before Meyerbeer and Offenbach, and be contented to remain eclipsed by these favorites of the public. If you question on the subject enthusiastic lovers of the opera, they will answer that, in our day, opera has made progress so considerable, and attained to such perfection, that the understanding of music is so general among the people, that this predilection of an enlightened public for dramatic music is the most natural thing in the world. You know there never can be question of any other than an enlightened public; for it cannot be doubted that every man who frequents the theatre is a man of progress. The gallery represents the preparatory school; the boxes, the pupils in philosophy.

However, it is difficult to believe that artistic taste and love of music are the sole motives which cause the public to fill the halls of the opera-house. Forty years ago, the works of Mozart, of Weber, and other masters were well appreciated by connoisseurs, but they did not meet with as much success from the public as modern operas enjoy to-day. Or is it rather that Donizetti and Verdi, Meyerbeer and Offenbach, understand the art better than Mozart and Weber, Spohr and Spontini? We cannot admit it. The reason must be elsewhere, and surely, gentlemen, you wish to know it.

In a pamphlet published ten years ago, Richard Wagner says: “The essential foundation of art, as practised generally in our day, is industry: its moral end is gain, its æsthetic intention to kill ennui.”

This richly endowed artist has in view his colleagues in dramatic music, the composers of opera. He knew these men well, and understood himself how they set to work. But in the words quoted he has perfectly explained the end and tendency of modern opera.

The end is no other than gain; and, as means conducive to this end, effect is necessary, which must be attained at any price. Industrialism, that tyrant of our age, has also submitted the opera to its power, and under its domination the art exhausts itself forcibly, because tied to the fly-wheel of the artistic fabric. To produce effect, to surprise and bring out something which has not yet been seen—these are the objects of actual dramatic music. To this end is sacrificed not only art, but also all that exists—religion, politics, morality, and truth. This unfortunate

But it is among the French that this style has attained its greatest perfection, and even among the German composers, who, for love of effect, have Frenchified themselves. The most skilful author of scores of operas, Scribe, has offered his pen to these greedy musicians for money, and shows his readiness to sacrifice all to it. Scribe understood the Parisian public for which he worked. He knew its weakness, and he has succeeded in imposing the vitiated taste of that public on the whole civilized world.

In the texts furnished by Scribe, all is intended for scenic effect—all means are employed to reach this end. The requirements of dramatic truth and of morality, even of good sense, are sacrificed to the one end, effect. Frivolous and immodest allusions, which offer gross food to the impure fancy, and necessarily soil the imagination of innocence; doubtful scenes, as, for example, in Fra Diavolo, where a young girl unrobes and goes to bed before the audience; scenes of the bath, as in the Huguenots; scenes of seduction, as in Robert le Diable; political allusions, exaltation of and homage to the revolutionary passions, as in the Muette de Portici; base flattery to the irreligious opinions and prejudices of the day; even, in fine, scenes peculiarly religious, that are put into the piece to produce striking contrasts, and bring out voluptuous scenes better—these are the artistic means of which these poets and composers have made use to produce effect, and to make money with this effect. Thanks to these industrials of the opera, it happens that in France a new opera has no longer chance of success, if it be not abundantly provided with these means for exciting bad passions.

Now, how is it in Germany? The German good-nature imitates everything of which the French set the example. It allows itself to be deceived, even to the point of finding naïveté where there is nothing but immodesty. It thinks even that it recognizes a religious character in works which do but abuse and vilify religion. The German good-nature imagines that these creators of French art have carried dramatic music to its highest perfection, whilst in reality they are merely skilful workmen, and often something much worse.

If it be denied that our so-called artistic and intelligent public is intoxicated with drinking from the poisoned cup of the French opera, it must be conceded that in Germany there are still many men who know and love art, and who therefore, at the start, do not sacrifice to this musical Baal, but render testimony to the truth with regard to the modern opera. They do not trouble themselves about the shouts and railleries of the crowd, who are unreflecting, and seek in art only sensual enjoyment and pastime.

Permit me here to recall the memory of a generous man, a grand master of the musical art, whom the city of Düsseldorf formerly counted among its citizens—to wit, Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. From the letters he has left, we know that, during his artistic career, he desired earnestly to try his creative power on the opera, but could not succeed because, notwithstanding his multiplied efforts, he

Honor to the honest man! Honor to the artist who in acting thus honored himself—who refused to gain money and to make himself famous by selling for so base a use the divine gift which God had given him!

As Mendelssohn indicates here, it is particularly Meyerbeer who has devoted himself to this bad style. In his youth, this talented artist had composed several operas which had not been favorably received. He had tried without success in the German school as well as in the Italian. He gave himself up to the mercantile style, and his career was brilliant. Meanwhile, Meyerbeer employed Scribe to write his texts, and these two minds understood each other wonderfully. The one furnished piquant scenes, without regard to the exigencies of reason and morals, and threw in a profusion of seductions for all the passions. He set to work all the wonders of decoration. The other illuminated the whole with seductive music, which sought but for effect, and had no regard to dramatic truth. In this manner, Meyerbeer has become not only the most famous, but also—and this is the principal thing—the richest musician of the entire world. He knows his business, as no one before has known it.

Meyerbeer is distinguished particularly for his predilection for religious scenes. With consummate skill, he uses them to produce striking contrasts. None of his last operas fail in this spicy seasoning. As a Jew, he is impartial among the different Christian sects. He maligns and mocks them all. In Robert le Diable, it is Catholicism which is put under contribution to furnish material for his religious scenes; in the Huguenots, he abuses Protestantism in the same manner and to the same end.

Marcel, a personage insignificant and dull, a fanatical Huguenot, interrupts everywhere the action of the piece with a Protestant canticle, always inopportunely and without reason, but producing always a grand effect by contrast. It is the air of the canticle of Luther: “Our God is a tower of strength.” The success of the Huguenots, this opera being so much a favorite, rests almost entirely on the contrasts produced by this canticle.

In the first act, a merry company of cavaliers is found at table drinking and singing a riotous song. Marcel, the incomprehensible solitary, proceeds to thunder out, with a loud voice accompanied with brazen instruments: “Hear me, strong God! My voice is raised to thee.” This canticle, in the midst of jovial drinkers, intermingled with the song they are singing—how can it fail of effect? In the second act, there is a very violent scene. At the instigation of Queen Margaret, the Count St. Bris has proposed his daughter to the

In L’Africaine, the last production of Meyerbeer, he introduces us immediately, in the first act, to a sitting of the secret council of the King of Portugal. It is understood that the grand inquisitor and a certain number of cardinals play the principal rôle. Finally, Vasco de Gama is condemned, loaded with chains, and thrown into the deepest dungeon. Why? Because he has affirmed the existence of distant and unknown lands of which the Scripture does not speak. You know well that ecclesiastical dignitaries have always had the habit of refuting with chains and a prison novel ideas and scientific discoveries. At least, by this scene the public is convinced of it, with the aid of stunning music. This same opera, so much approved, contains also a very piquant amorous intrigue. There are several choruses of prayer, then a large vessel on the stage, and finally a manchineel tree, which spreads death. We must agree that it is the possible and the impossible.

However, it is not the Jew Meyerbeer who has pushed to the extreme his musical industry. The Jew Offenbach has gone much further. The former speculated principally on the curiosity of the unreflecting masses; but while his art is under subjection to frivolity, he still seeks to preserve a certain decorum. But Offenbach has got rid of the last remains of modesty and propriety. Yet the Christian public besiege the workshop, and applaud with frenzy the musical indecencies of this industrious Jew.

Orphées aux Enfers, La Belle Hélène, La Vie Parisienne, such, for several years, have been the favorite works with a public in advance of its age. These operas have been played every day for weeks and months on every stage; and often there are disputes over the tickets for these representations. Of course, it is all owing to the beautiful music.

With these impure works, dramatic music has attained the extreme of degradation. After having been lowered by Meyerbeer and the modern composers of France and Italy to the rank of an equestrienne, who rides round the circus in elegant costume, the muse of music has been thrown to the demi-monde by Offenbach. She could not fall lower.

Gentlemen, permit me to repeat the question which was laid before you in the beginning. What is the reason that modern opera has gained the favor of the public to so eminent a degree that not only the classical works of this kind, but also the masterpieces of declaimed drama, are banished from the theatre? Now, we can answer this question. The reason of this surprising phenomenon is that, by the modern opera, art has entered into the service of sensuality, art has lost all generous and elevated motives. It has tasked itself to amuse a public depraved by pleasures of every kind—to satisfy curiosity, to flatter the bad passions, the errors and prejudices of the age, and to make a bad use of the questions of the day.

Those who still doubt what I say

Our friends of the opera do not like to be told these things. Judgments like these are for them the expressions of a mind opposed to modern civilization, and lost in obsolete ideas. If one of these partisans of modern opera hears what I have just said, he will certainly say that the darkness of my ultramontane soul is blacker than the color of my robe. He will maintain that it is only æsthetic education, artistic sense, enthusiasm for music, which draws him and his equals to similar works; and, nevertheless, the old operas which are veritable works of art, but which do not contain any piquant subject and little food for sensuality, leave them cold and indifferent in the depth of their hearts. The symphonies of Beethoven and Mozart cause these lovers of art to yawn, and the name alone of an oratorio makes their flesh creep.

What position have we Christians to take, in order to oppose these alarming phenomena of the present day? A critic of the seventeenth century, named Wehrenfels, has laid down this principle for dramatic art in general: “Finally, all our dramatic representations should be such that Plato could tolerate them in his republic, that Cato could listen to them with pleasure, that vestals could witness them without wounding their chastity, and, what is more important, that Christians could listen to them.”

You will say this is too antiquated a principle. Among the greater part of our amateurs at the theatre it will only provoke expressions of doubt; they will say that this poor Wehrenfels is far behind modern civilization. Notwithstanding, no one undertakes to refute this principle, to demonstrate that these requirements are groundless. But as long as they are not refuted, we must consider them justified, and we ask if they should not be applied to the opera. Is not the drama when sung to be submitted to the same true moral and æsthetic laws as the drama recited?

To the phenomena of life as produced before our eyes, we apply the scale of conscience and of reason. Why should it not be our right and our duty to apply them also to the opera, and to regulate our conduct from the result of such an examination? No one will deny that this question is well founded. Nevertheless, it would meet with much resistance. Our enthusiasts of the opera have tacitly agreed that, where it is a question of opera, good sense and conscience should be silent. But ourselves, gentlemen, ought never to abandon these principles. We should no longer be Christians, if we did not apply to the opera the principles we practise in our lives.

Let us, then, apply these principles to the music of our day. What must we do if it be condemned for frivolity, for immodesty and abuse of religious things? If we find that the scenes are arranged solely with a view to effect, and in disregard of

Would you condemn to silence your reason and your conscience because you are promised amusement? Would you wish, as a return for your money, to have sung on the stage words you despise, words you would repulse if they were spoken? Would you put a temptation before your children, in leading them to the opera—these same children whom you tried to bring up in honesty, in religion, in piety, and the observance of all Christian duties? Do you believe that at the opera, where religion is made a plaything, where it is exposed to contempt, attacked and calumniated, they will learn to esteem and to obey it? Will they learn good morals, decency, and propriety from the dancers of the ballet? It is sufficient to place before you these questions; you will answer them yourselves. But why this severe criticism? What will result from it?

Will my words succeed in turning dramatic music from its bad course, and making it enter on a better? Will the thousands and thousands of individuals who find their greatest pleasure in modern opera take notice of them at all? I do not count upon that. But I hope with confidence, gentlemen, that my words will engage you to examine more closely the subject of which I have been treating. You will not form your judgment from charlatans of criticism and enthusiastic partisans of sensuality; but you will judge for yourselves, by vigorously applying your Christian principles. If you are thus affected, my words will have borne fruit.

THE STUDY OF SACRED HISTORY.[99]

This practical view of the duties of life, which proved of such benefit to the beneficiaries of that philanthropic lady, seems to have been adopted by the author of the work before us, and to have been applied on a more comprehensive scale. Becoming convinced, after long investigation, that one of the evils which at present afflict society arises out of spiritual ignorance of the history of the church and of the pre-Christian era, instead of supinely contenting himself with bemoaning the calamity, he set to

We are all aware that the best part of the Christian people has been plunged into profound grief and stupefaction by the recent murder, or, as the Holy Father more emphatically expressed it, the parricide of the late Archbishop of Paris, and so many of his faithful clergy. Now, who were the perpetrators of that most foul deed? In one sense, certainly, not a wild, tumultuous mob, acting without system or guidance, nor yet private assassins in the employment of the secret societies, or moved thereto by personal malice or revenge. On the contrary, the deed was done in the open day, by the arbitrary orders of what was claimed to have been a regularly established government, and executed by its armed soldiery, two of whom, even when about to obey the mandates of their supposed superiors, knelt at the feet of the holy prelate and begged his forgiveness for the crime they were about to commit. It is not claimed by the apologists of the Communists that their illustrious victims were guilty of any offence against the state, or that even the form of a trial was accorded them; and yet there are to be found many persons, considering themselves honorable and intelligent, who openly or secretly applaud that glaring and cruel act of injustice, and who thoroughly sympathize with the European revolutionists—those enemies of all law, who, if they had the power, would repeat in every city in Christendom the late disgraceful scenes of Paris. It is a melancholy fact that outside the Catholic Church the horrible murder of the venerable Archbishop Darboy and so many of his clergy has been the cause of ill-disguised congratulation, not only among those who are in direct affiliation with the revolutionists, but amid the sects who profess to regard the Decalogue as part of their fundamental doctrine. Have we yet heard from the thousands of pulpits and hundreds of newspapers, occupied and controlled by the various Protestant sects, one open and manly protest against the atrocious criminals who have so recently sullied the fair fame of France by deeds that would have disgraced the most degraded forms of savage life? Not one.

A fact like this, so patent and portentous, while it shows how large a portion of civilized society has fallen away from the plainest teachings of Christian charity and justice, must necessarily lead to the inquiry as to the best means of arresting, and, if possible, correcting so monstrous an evil. Recognizing it as such, it is our duty fearlessly and persistently to endeavor to correct it, for “Felix qui potuis rerum cognoscere causæ” will always be a true maxim, even when we are engaged in the study of the worst of human miseries and disasters with a view to their alleviation.

In contemplating the many evils which now afflict Christian society, the creation and formerly the obedient creature of the Catholic Church, we must recollect that God has not given to his church the gift of being the infallible preserver of the faith in every nation and at all times, no more than she can guarantee to all people civil order and wise government. There is no doubt that the church is the tree set up in this world, the leaves of which are the health of mankind, “et quis tibi imputavit si perierint nationes quas tu fecisti” (Wisd. xii. 12); but who shall accuse her of countenancing the disorders which have arisen through the rejection of her authority, and to which she has ever been strenuously opposed? Our Lord himself contemplates the rebellion of nations and people against his doctrine. To the angel of the Church of Ephesus the Spirit said, “Be mindful from whence thou hast fallen: and do penance, and resume thy first works. Or if not, behold I come to thee and will move thy candlestick out of its place, except thou dost penance” (Apoc. ii. 5). Even the presence of the priesthood among us in adequate numbers is no assurance against schism and infidelity. Though we may have every confidence in their sanctity and the soundness of their teachings, we cannot always be certain that the duties of their holy calling will be performed with uniform discretion, intelligence, and zeal, or that the hearts of their congregations will respond on all occasions and amid all circumstances to the teachings of their pastors. It is true that at all times and in all places the soldiers of the Cross have proved themselves the faithful guardians of piety and morality, but it must be admitted that occasionally, particularly in Europe, they have not attached sufficient importance to the necessity of the intellectual training of the masses and to the wonderful advances of the human mind in abstract and practical sciences. What the Abbé Fleury wrote of a past generation is partially, at least, true in this. In the preface to his Historical Catechism, he says:

“We see a great number of devout persons who have read great numbers of spiritual books, and are familiar with a large variety of devotional practices, but who are totally wanting in an understanding of the very groundwork of religion.”

Fleury’s testimony receives a remarkable corroboration in the circumstance that, in the last century, whoever derided the traditional belief in God and in the Christian revelation acquired credit with the multitude as an “esprit fort.” In short, the idea of there being so much as the possibility of an “esprit fort” who believed in God and who ex animo professed the faith of the church, appeared to be unknown, and the universal notion in France was that the choice consisted in being feeble and pious or strong-minded and atheistical. Under the influence of this notion, the principal part of the male population of France fell away from the faith, and it has required the persistent efforts of at least two generations of priests, and with but partial success, to lead them back to the church. Religion in Great Britain during the past century is known to have largely taken its complexion from France, and it is remarkable that the bulk of the English Protestants affected to form precisely the same estimate of it, and that it was a power inimical to the cultivation of the understanding and a decided roba di pietà,” and that it is in no way conscious of any wants proper to a manly understanding, and consequently never expected to take any pains to satisfy them. In Germany, there are perfectly analogous symptoms. Catholics in some parts of that great empire bear the contemptuous name of Dunkelmänner, men of darkness; and they are looked upon, not merely by the positive enemies of all religion, but by the busy throng, as certainly no friends to the legitimate progress and cultivation of the gifts of the understanding.

The consequences of these disastrous tendencies to fall off from the practice of the virtues and observances of the church are apparent to all thinking men, and, if not checked, will have an equally marked effect on the morals and faith of future generations. To some extent, we humbly submit, they are due to a want of thorough education, not only spiritually but humanly, among a large number of Catholics, who, not deficient in piety and the desire to live according to the precepts of Christianity, are too often led away by the sophistries and superior knowledge—real or affected—of the opponents of their faith. Learning is said to be the handmaiden of religion—and is never so brilliant as when employed in her service, while religion, profiting by her assistance, moves on from one triumph to another. It does not appear to be a part of the providence of God that man should simply grow into a knowledge of the doctrines of the church, in the same manner as he advances to bodily maturity, but by intelligent and persevering teaching and diligent practice. In our world, every year brings new-comers on the stage, and the message to the Church of Ephesus was, “Age pœnitentiam et prima opera fac.” The Catholic clergy inherit a tradition, long anterior to that of the past century, of being the patrons and the cultivators of the human mind, and they still should remember these true and ancient glories of their sacred calling. The language of the sacred liturgy on the day of Pentecost is beautifully expressive on this subject:

Sacrum Septenarium—the sacred seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, amongst which we find the “spirit of understanding and of knowledge.” All the gifts of the Holy Ghost doubtless require to receive their due share of honor and cultivation. But in a generation which has gone so widely and so terribly wrong by the way of a perverted and deceived intellect, the cause of faith in the world demands that the battle be fought with a special determination on the ground of the intelligence. If Satan relies on the perversion of the mind for leading them away from belief in the truth and divinity of the revelation brought by Moses, and perfected by the coming and ministry of one greater than Moses, St. Michael must contend with Satan for the possession of the body of Moses. The more the spirit of deception that has gone abroad seeks to discredit the Mosaic revelation, which is the forerunner in the world of the

This study should not, as it has heretofore generally been, confined to ancient history; for, though we may find in the Old Testament the wonderful working of God in his intercourse with his creatures, and see developed and completed his works and promises to his chosen people, we have, under the new dispensation and in the history of the Catholic Church, as indubitable proofs of the promises and fulfilment of them in the fulness of time by our divine Maker. The history of the Popes, for example, from St. Peter to Pius IX., is replete with providential incidents, astonishing the worldly and baffling the so-called wisdom of the sceptical. The perpetual rejuvenation of the church herself when apparently crushed and disintegrated beneath the load of kingly oppression and the lawlessness of the mob, is in itself not only a perpetual miracle, but the evident fulfilment of the promises of the Founder to be with her all days even to the consummation of the world. The lives of the grand throng of saints, martyrs, confessors, and missionaries—the glory and pride of the church—their sufferings, triumphs, and miracles; their love of art and literature, and all that makes life holy and beautiful, are fraught with lessons before which even the story of Abraham’s sacrifice and Joseph’s forgiveness sink into comparative insignificance. Sacred history should be read as a whole, from the beginning of time to the present day, giving to the more ancient part its proper share of attention, not only for its own sake but as prefiguring the more perfect system of Christianity. But the history of the Church deserves and should receive our chiefest and most marked attention.

The book of the Rev. Henry Formby, which, under its simple title, contains a concise and chronological narrative of sacred history from the creation down to our own times, in this respect is one of the most useful publications that has recently appeared from the English press, and, though but an abridgment of a much more voluminous work on the same subject, it preserves all the essential features of the original with singular simplicity and lucidity of style. The title gives but a faint idea of its merits, for in truth it is not a mere collection of stories in the general acceptation of that term, but short, succinct, and correct historical sketches of events related in the Old Testament, and a condensed and necessarily short history of the church from its foundation. The arrangement of the subject is admirable, and, in view of the vast field of Biblical lore to be traversed, and the numerous historical facts of the first importance to be touched on, at least in the confined limits of one volume, there are displayed a clearness of narration, and a nice appreciation of the salient points in the spiritual progress of the human race, that make the book easy to be read and understood by even the most ordinarily instructed person. In fact, if

A general knowledge of the history of the creation, and of God’s once chosen people, the Jews, as well as an acquaintance with that of the church herself, the perfection of what was imperfectly prefigured under the old dispensation, ought to be an essential ingredient in the education of every Catholic child and of every adult, no matter what may be his condition in life; but heretofore the undertaking has been so laborious on account of the want of elementary books on those all-important subjects, that but little was generally known of the workings of Providence in ancient times, and the typical significance of many of the events related in the Old Testament, except by the learned few. Even the early history of the church has been practically a sealed book to the English-speaking masses, whose ideas of her long years of suffering, persecution, and final triumph have been of the most indefinite and oftentimes erroneous character. We have to thank Father Formby for supplying this defect in our Catholic literature, and in future there can be no excuse for ignorance of at least the origin, labors, and progress of the religion we profess. In about one hundred and sixty pages, the half of his book, devoted to the Christian era, he presents to us very complete and exact, if not very elaborate, views of the leading events in the history of the church for over eighteen centuries. In addition to this, he has appended to many of the sections in the part occupied with the pre-Christian period short moral reflections, and institutes comparisons between the old and new order of things, which are not only edifying, but highly instructive, particularly to young readers. For example, with reference to the days of the creation of the world, he remarks:

“Jesus Christ rested in the tomb from the work of redemption on the Sabbath or seventh day, and arose again from the dead on the first day of the week. For this reason, the Christians no longer keep holy the original Sabbath, but the Lord’s day, or first day of the week, in memory of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.”

And again, after relating the dispersion of the builders of the Tower of Babel, he draws this beautiful comparison:

“The nations of the world suffered a great punishment upon their pride in the confusion of their speech, and in their separation one from another. Jesus Christ has in part removed this punishment; for he has again made all the nations of the earth one religious family in his church, under the supreme government of the successor of St. Peter, and as partakers of one and the same sacrifice at the altar.”

In allusion to the well-known story of the sale of Joseph to the Egyptians by his brethren, he says:

“Joseph, hated by his brethren on account of his love of virtue and innocence, and sold by them for a slave into the land of Egypt, is a striking figure of Jesus Christ hated by his own people on account of his love of justice and sanctity, and delivered up by them bound into the hands of the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate.”

Father Formby’s diction and treatment of his subject are varied and suited to the epoch which he describes. In the early pages of his book, he adopts the figurative orientalisms of the Hebrew writers, but further on he sobers down to the less florid and more matter-of-fact style of modern times. His descriptions of the crusades and the origin and growth of the religious orders are exceedingly

“There is something worthy of being carefully observed as regards the Protestantism which began in the sixteenth century to cause whole nations and peoples to renounce the faith and discipline of the Catholic Church. But as other great heresies, such as that of Arius, have had a similar ruinous effect in causing a great falling off from faith without the end of the world following in their wake, Protestantism cannot simply for this reason by itself be understood to be the sign to which St. Paul refers. What is remarkable, however, in Protestantism is, that though Dr. Martin Luther and the others who were leaders at the time formed sects, their the disciples of which called themselves by the names of masters—as Lutherans from Luther, Calvinists from Calvin—Protestantism has long ago ceased to be the name of any particular doctrine. Lutherans, Calvinists, Anabaptists, Socinians, and all the different sects which arose at this time, as regards what is meant by Protestantism, are just as good Protestants the one as the other. They may, and do, dispute with each other about what is to be held to be true as Christian doctrine, but as regards Protestantism they are all quite agreed. How come, then, those who are completely at war with each other about Christian doctrine to agree completely about ‘Protestantism’? The reason is, that Protestantism proper has but one solitary doctrine and one solitary precept, viz., ‘Depart from the Roman Church.’ All who satisfy this one precept entitle themselves to the name of ‘Protestant.’ It is true that, up to the present time, those who have protested against the Roman Church have generally had the credit of deserving to be, in some way or other, known as Christians; but this is rapidly ceasing to be the case. ‘Protestantism’ has now come to be the name of the confederacy of almost all without exception whose cry is, ‘Depart from the Roman Church,’ so that there would seem to be no rashness in recognizing it as the departure (discessio) which St. Paul points to as the sign indicating the world to be drawing to a close.”

In addition to the merits and attractions of this valuable contribution to contemporaneous Catholic literature, we observe that most of the leading incidents recorded in sacred history are illustrated by wood-cuts very handsomely designed and executed, so that the eye as well as the understanding is made familiar with the historical places, incidents, and characters sought to be portrayed, and the frontispiece is a large and excellently clear engraving of Jerusalem. The growth of Catholic literature in England, where even in the recollection of many of us Catholicity, confined to the humble minority, was banned and ostracized by author and reader alike, is one of the most healthful signs of the times, and it will be a great dereliction of duty on our part here in America if we do not profit by the labors of our co-religionists abroad, hoping some day to reciprocate the favor.

Essays Critical and Historical. By John Henry Newman, formerly Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. Vols. I. and II., 8vo. London: Basil Montagu Pickering, 196 Piccadilly. 1871. New York: For sale by The Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.

“These essays, with the exception of the last, were written while their author was Fellow of Oriel, and a member of the Established Church. They are now, after many years, republished, mainly for the following reason: He cannot destroy what he has once put into print: ‘Litera scripta manet.’ He might suppress it for a time; but, sooner or later, his power over it will cease. And then, if it is, either in its matter or its drift, adapted to benefit the cause which it was intended to support when it was given to the world, it will be republished in spite of his later disavowal of it. In order to anticipate the chance of its being thus used after his death, the only way open to him is, while living, to show why it has ceased to approve itself to his own judgment.... This, accordingly, has been his attempt in the present edition of these essays, as far as they demand Author’s Preface.

Anything from Dr. Newman’s pen has a strong personal claim upon the interest of Catholics. The volumes before us contain fifteen essays, written at different times between the years 1828 and 1846. The subjects are mainly connected with the intellectual progress at that time developing in the mind of the author. The volumes are necessary to a collection of his works, and also to a perfect acquaintance with classic English literature.

The Fourfold Sovereignty of God. By Henry Edward, Archbishop of Westminster. London: Burns, Oates & Co. For sale by The Catholic Publication Society, New York.

The rapidity with which volume follows volume from the prolific pen of the Archbishop of Westminster has often astonished our mind. From hints given in the preface to this last publication, we get, in part, an explanation. It appears that his Grace employs a skilful stenographer to take down and then copy for the press his extemporaneous lectures. In this way, one who has a mind stored with the acquisitions of a lifetime, and is gifted so unusually with the copia fundi, can accomplish what could otherwise be done only by a man of more leisure than is enjoyed by the active prelate of the London diocese.

These four lectures make a pendant to the last four published, and complete the general view of the subject. They are like all the works of Archbishop Manning, of which our opinion has been so lately expressed. We need, therefore, only to announce the publication of these new lectures, and our readers will understand for themselves the value and interest they possess.

The Tradition of the Syriac Church of Antioch, concerning the Primacy and the Prerogatives of St. Peter, and of his successors, the Roman Pontiffs. By the Most Rev. Cyril Behnam Benni, Syriac Archbishop of Mossul (Nineveh). London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1871. For sale by The Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.

This unique production symbolizes the contrariety and unity of the East and West in a singular manner. It begins at both ends, and finishes in the middle, where the appendices usually put at the end are snugly sandwiched between the Syriac original and the English translation. This translation has been made by the Rev. Joseph Gagliardi, and is, of course, at that end of the volume which, to our Occidental habits of thought, appears to be the natural beginning. The Syriac begins at the opposite end, and thus both languages have their own way, and the book will answer equally well for the reader in Nineveh and the one in London. The tradition St. Peter established his first see, is scarcely inferior in interest and importance to that of the Roman Church. The learned prelate has gathered together the best and most authentic testimonies to the supremacy of the Roman See from documents both ancient and modern, liturgies, official acts, and writings of prelates and learned men, both Catholic and schismatical. The references are most carefully given, and the whole work is critical and scholarly. It is published in a very handsome and ornamental style, and cannot fail to interest the curious, the learned, and all who are engaged in theological pursuits. The testimonies to the authority of the Holy See which it contains are very valuable, and as they are given in a clear English translation, methodically arranged, and accompanied by full explanations, they are intelligible to any person of ordinary education. We cannot flatter ourselves that we have very many among our subscribers who will be able to appreciate the beauties of the Syriac original.

The Life of Jesus the Christ. By Henry Ward Beecher. Illustrated. New York: J. B. Ford & Co. 1871. Vol. I.

The publishers of this work have given it a very handsome exterior, and adorned it with a number of excellent illustrations of scenes and places in Palestine. The attempts at reproducing some of the most celebrated representations of our Lord are, however, not successful. As for the work itself, it is an effort to imitate the fascinating and popular style of Renan in such a way as to satisfy those Protestants who call themselves Evangelical. That the author has the art of pleasing the multitude cannot be questioned. That he is an artist in the highest and truest sense we cannot admit. And, so far as more solid qualities are concerned, he is not to be compared for a moment, in respect to that erudition which brings rabbinical and classical treasures to enrich and illustrate the Evangelical narrative, with Dr. Sepp, whose Leben Jesu still remains both the most valuable and the most interesting of all works of this class thus far produced, in spite of much that is fanciful and visionary.

If the doctrine of this book were sound, we should hail its publication with joy, even although we could not consider it to be a literary masterpiece. Even if it contained only the errors common to Protestants; still, if it were sound on the great central truth of the Incarnation; one might think it likely to be useful in preserving among Protestants the true doctrine of the divinity and humanity of Christ contained in their formularies. As it is, we must condemn it as more mischievous and absurd than the Vie de Jésus of Renan. Of course, no Catholic who has any regard for his own principles will ever think of looking for religious instruction or edification in any book proceeding from Mr. Beecher’s pen. The evil which this shallow and utterly heretical production, coming forth in such a taking guise, will cause will be among Protestants. One class of them—those who swallow its honey with pleasure—will take in a deadly poison of heresy. Another class, who will look at its doctrine coolly and critically, will be strengthened in their tendency to rationalism and unbelief by its crude absurdity.

Mr. Beecher teaches a more gross and monstrous doctrine than that of Arius, Nestorius, or Appolinaris. It is, namely, that God contracted and diminished his divine nature within the mental and physical limits of manhood. God became the human soul of a human body. This is the anthropomorphism of Swedenborg. It destroys all true conceptions both of the human and the divine nature of our Lord. Pantheism is better than this. The reasoning and exegesis on which

Behold a new proof of the utter insufficiency of the text of Scripture alone by itself even to preserve the orthodox doctrine after it has been fully presented to the mind! How much more, then, to give it at first hand! What the orthodox Protestants still retain of the faith is the faith of creeds, councils, and tradition, and the exercise of private judgment on the text of Scripture is destroying it fast.

Cineas; or, Rome under Nero. From the French of J. M. Villefranche. 1 vol. 12mo. Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham. 1871.

If we except Fabiola, Callista, and Dion, we feel no hesitation in saying that Cineas is equal to any production of its kind yet offered to the English reader. In this tale, history and tradition are interwoven with fiction, and the result is a graphic sketch of Christianity in the apostolic ages. The portico, the Pantheon, the temple, and the catacomb are brought upon the stage, and made to represent their parts. The scene changes from the Circus Maximus to the Mamertine, from Rome to Jerusalem, from Jerusalem to Athens; and at each change of scene the infant church appears clothed in new beauty, in new holiness, in new strength. It is much to be desired that Catholics of the present day should become acquainted with the religious life of their brethren of the early church. No other study is so well calculated to enliven our faith, animate our hope, inflame our charity, and incite us to that heroic virtue so necessary to perseverance in the present age. Cineas tends to promote this study, and as such we welcome it, commend it to the perusal of every Catholic, and thank the translator and publisher for the care with which they have performed their respective tasks.

The Letters of Madame de Sevigne to Her Daughter and Friends. Edited by Mrs. Hale. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1871.

The Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Edited by Mrs. Hale. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1871.

These two books, simultaneously issued from the same press and edited by the same author, bear strong marks of similarity and contrast. Each, in its way, has long been looked upon as a model of epistolary correspondence in its appropriate language, and each is defaced by that superficial, not to say anti-Christian, philosophy which prevailed among the “higher classes” in France and England during the last and the preceding century. The French authoress, however, has somewhat the advantage of her English sister, not only in the possession of a language especially adapted, by its grace and flexibility, to this species of composition, but from the fact that she lived surrounded by a strong Catholic public opinion, which, with all her cynicism and fashionable scepticism, she could not wholly disregard. We find, therefore, in many of her letters, particularly those to her daughter, flashes of true, genuine moral sentiment, which are the good books this age of cheap printing has put within our reach, and the shortness of this busy life itself, we cannot recommend to our readers, particularly the younger portion, the perusal of either volume; nor do we see the necessity of a new edition of works which are merely ornamental, without having the merit of being innocuous.

A Collection of Leading Cases on the Law of Elections in the United States. With Notes and References to the latest authorities. By Frederick C. Brightly, author of “The Federal Digest,” “The United States Digest,” etc. Philadelphia: Kay & Brother, 17 and 19 South Sixth Street, Law Booksellers, Publishers, and Importers. 1871.

Mr. Brightly, who has done so much in his previous works to facilitate the law-student and the lawyer in their studies and preparation of cases, by means of his admirable and learned digests and treatises, has now acquired a new claim upon the gratitude of the student and professional man by his Collection of Leading Cases on Elections. The author has been most happy in the selection of his subject, for there are few branches of the law so important, in a free and representative government like ours, as the law of public elections.

In the early days of our Republic, when there was more conservatism than at present, only the most important civil officers of the Federal and State governments were elective by the people, and the elective franchise was not so universally participated in by the masses as at the present time. Then the executive, elected by the people, was clothed with the appointing power, which he exercised with greater deliberation, calmness, and discrimination than is possible to the people amidst the excitements and intrigues of a popular election. He was held responsible to the people for an honest, faithful, and judicious exercise of this high prerogative.

The law in such cases was sought for entirely from the analogies of the English common law cases and the parliamentary precedents and decisions. Now, while the Federal offices remain mostly as they were under our first Presidents and Congresses, in the States almost every office, from governor and judges of the highest courts down to magistrates and constables, has become elective by the people, and the States, with whom, under the Constitution, rests the power of regulating the qualifications for the exercise of the elective franchise, have generally removed all qualifications thereon, and conferred universal suffrage, as it is called, upon the people.

There is scarcely a function of government, from the most vital and momentous to the most trifling, that is not discharged in our regard by elected officers; our lives, our liberties, our property, our castles, and our reputations are confided to the protection or neglect, if not abuse, of officers elected for short terms; so that every interest of life and of society is thus governed, controlled, and administered indirectly by the voting masses.

We will give a single illustration of this: If we take thirty-three and a third years as the average span of human life, it may be said that in every thirty-three and a third years [the time has been estimated as much shorter in regard to what we are going to state], the entire property of the country, its countless millions, are administered or acted upon by a single officer, the Judge of the Probate Court, or other officer of the law, elected by the people, and thus incidentally by the masses themselves. Thus the various elections, which we so heedlessly disregard or pass by, are, in fact, the casts of the die that determine the fate of the nation, its prosperity, happiness, and honor. The importance, therefore, of the law regulating these elections in their varied relations may be estimated from this fact.

That numerous questions and contests should have arisen in a country where so many offices are to be filled, and where elections are so frequent, is not strange, and that the decisions of our own courts upon these litigated cases should have become numerous and controlling is a natural result. The law of elections has been greatly developed and expounded in this country in recent years. The leading cases bearing upon these subjects have been skilfully and carefully collated by Mr. Brightly, illustrated by his own notes and references, and presented to the legal profession and the public in the volume before us. He could not have selected a theme of greater interest or importance to our country, especially at this time, than the law of elections. He has handled it with the same accuracy, learning, and industry which have always characterized his works, and elevated his reputation as a jurist and author. The present work carries with it an interest far more general than professional works

The title of Father Doane’s new book is to be To and from the Passion Play in the Summer of 1871. It will soon be published by Mr. Donahoe, Boston.

Mr. P. O’Shea announces as in press, and to be published by subscription, The Lives of Deceased Bishops of the Catholic Church in the United States, by Mr. Richard H. Clark, A. M. The work will be published in two large octavo volumes, and will be ready about the first of December. These volumes will contain the biographies of all the deceased members of the American Catholic Hierarchy, from the earliest dawn of Christianity on this continent to the present day, and will trace the history of the church through the important episcopate of Archbishop Carroll, and chronicle with graphic effect the labors, sacrifices, and achievements of over fifty bishops who have been called to their reward.

The Catholic Publication Society will soon publish a new edition of Father Young’s Office of Vespers, greatly enlarged and improved.

The volume of Sermons of the Paulist Fathers for 1870 will be ready for delivery on the 25th of November.

THE