Chapter VII: An Unexpected Proposal (9)

“These discourses,” says their distinguished author in his preface, “are called ecclesiastical because they were either addressed to ecclesiastics or treat on ecclesiastical subjects. They form a volume embracing certain points of pastoral theology――a subject on which we have very little that is Catholic in our language, if we except the excellent little book by Canon Oakeley.” They will therefore be specially valuable to our clergy, while, at the same time, the bishop “trusts there is much in them which may offer solid instruction to thoughtful Catholic laymen.” One of the most important, and the one to which we particularly invite the attention of our readers, both clerical and lay, is that on mixed marriages, “delivered on occasion of the Fourth Diocesan Synod of Birmingham.” Bishop Ullathorne is not afraid to speak plainly on this subject. Indeed, his language is startling but leaves no room for question of its truth. He speaks, too, from an extensive experience of the evils resulting from mixed marriages. Here is a passage (the italics are our own), p. 89:

“It would be as unjust as ungenerous not to admit that there _are_ Protestants who loyally keep the promises they have made in marriage with Catholics, and who truly respect the faith and religious exercises of their Catholic spouse, and fulfil their pledges respecting the education of their children. _But_ prudence looks to _what generally happens_, and not to the exceptional cases. And wisdom never runs any serious risks in matters of the soul. _The individuals, and even the families, that have fallen from the church through mixed marriages, amount to numbers incredible to those who have not examined the question thoroughly_; and the number of Catholics bound at this moment in mixed marriages, who live in a hard and bitter conflict for the exercise of their religion, for that of their children, and in certain cases for the soundness of their moral life, could they, with all the facts, be known, would deter any thoughtful Catholic from contracting a mixed marriage.”

The bishop has extended this discourse in order to give the early discipline of the church on the matter. He further makes his argument impregnable by citations from popes and councils. Moreover, he concludes the instruction “with an admirable passage from the synodal address published by the hierarchy of Australia”; and the condition of Catholics in Australia, as regards the ordinary excuses for mixed marriages, bears striking resemblance, be it remembered, to their position here.

EVERY-DAY TOPICS: A Book of Briefs. By J. G. Holland. New York:
Scribner, Armstrong & Co. 1876.

To one person at least, and to one only, this volume of _Topics_ is likely to be of lasting interest. That person is the author. The _Topics_ are short articles on a variety of subjects which have appeared from month to month in Scribner’s magazine. They are of about the average length of an ordinary newspaper article, and of about equal depth. They lack the newspaper liveliness, however, and the English is in great part of that slipshod style that is mistaken by so many nowadays for an evidence of careless strength. “Familiarly didactic” is the character that Dr. Holland in his preface seems to claim for this and others of his books, and the very phrase stamps the man. The book is tiresome, prosy, and fussy. Any one of the articles is too long for its purpose; what, then, must a volume of them be?

Dr. Holland is apparently a Christian or nothing. He is for ever prating about “the church” and attacking “the world.” It is to be feared that his Christianity is of a very vague character. His zeal is unfortunately without knowledge. He is constantly making grave mistakes with the most solemn confidence in his own infallibility, and thunders away on every kind of subject with a “trenchant ignorance” that would be amusing did it not touch such grave matters. Dr. Holland may have the best intentions in the world, but he would do well to weigh his words a little before undertaking to champion “the church.” What particular “church” is he for ever defending? The Christian Church, he would doubtless reply. But which is the Christian Church? This is a question that Dr. Holland is quite capable of undertaking to decide in a future “Topic,” and he would do not only his own readers but the world at large infinite service by making this matter clear once for all.

We are quite justified in putting this question to Dr. Holland; for everybody knows what a Catholic means when he speaks of “the church.” But in Dr. Holland’s “church” it is doubtful whether Catholics are allowed a place. At least, we should judge so from the manner in which he treats of them whenever their name occurs in the _Topics_.

LINKED LIVES. By Lady Gertrude Douglas. New York: Benziger Brothers.
1876.

The English Catholic journals greeted this story with such an unusual flourish of trumpets that we were led to expect something extraordinary in the way of novel-writing. It is extraordinary in no sense. It is not even extraordinarily bad. It is eminently dull, altogether commonplace, and only saved from utter insipidity by here and there an indication of real power.

Of course it relies for its main interest on the good old English Catholic story-theme――conversion. To relieve the monotony of this subject, probably, the author sprinkled the narrative with dashes of what is meant for sensation. She takes us to the dens of thieves, to the reformatory, the prison, the court of justice. Such scenes may be rendered exciting――by a Dickens or a Victor Hugo. We are very happy to see that Lady Gertrude Douglas is not at all at home among them. All this portion of the book reads pretty much like an ordinary police report, and all the desire in the world on the reader’s part cannot invest Katie McKay or any of her companions with even a touch of the interest that Dickens threw around Nancy Sykes. Such themes should not be touched at all unless they can be made elevating. It takes a very experienced, strong, yet tender hand to bare the ulcers and foul sores of society. The process is a most delicate one. If well done, it excites pity, remorse, sorrow, indignation, that such things can be among Christian peoples; if ill done, it is revolting and only excites disgust.

Great pains have been bestowed on the delineation of the character of Mabel Forrester, and not without success. Indeed, she and her brother Guy, who is killed off too early, are almost the only interesting persons in the volume. By the way, what a lugubrious story it is! Everybody is constantly down at the mouth. Poor Guy is killed at a yacht-race, which he has just won. Katie McKay throws herself into the sea with her babe, which has been chloroformed (!) by Katie’s sister; and we could almost wish that Katie had been left in the sea. She is dragged out, however, to receive two years’ imprisonment. The rascal whom she married dies in prison. Her sister dies in her bed, but with a strong intimation that she is likely to be consigned to the lower regions. There are several other deaths of minor consequence; and finally, after being induced to accompany Mabel on a voyage to Australia, to assist at her wedding with her elderly lover, Hugh Fortescue――who, of course, is in the last stage of consumption at the time――the vessel takes fire and Mabel perishes. Equally of course, Hugh, as soon as he receives the news, dies also, “aged fifty-three,” as the tombstone erected to his memory in Australia informs us. Surely, after all this, we may say with Macbeth that we have “supped full of horrors,” and, like him also, we feel none the better for them.

A great fault with the book, too, is that the fate of every one is foreshadowed early in the story, and the recurrence of such remarks as “But we must not anticipate,” “But of that anon,” is peculiarly exasperating when the whole murder is out in the very sentence that occasions such a remark. The convert-making is far too labored, and there is too much of it.

We should not have been at the unpleasing pains to write of this book as we have done, did we not see signs in it of a really good Catholic story-writer, who is likely to be spoiled for any future work worthy of the name by the injudicious praise which has been lavished on this, which we take to be her first book. The lady can describe natural scenery well, can touch a tender chord with true pathos, can display strength at times. She only needs more interest of plot, and to avoid scenes and characters of which she knows little or nothing. All the plot in the present volume consists of the slowly-dragged-out conversion of Mabel to Catholicity――which religion clashes with the creed of the elderly and by no means pleasant parson to whom she is affianced――and the consequent breaking off of the match. Finally he also is converted, and the _dénoûment_ is as given above. To tag five hundred and twenty-five pages of a story on a plot of such very slender device is rather overweighting it. The French scenes are the best in the book, and even they are needlessly marred by what the author doubtless considers a beauty――the supposed literal translation of the French characters’ speech into English, which is a barbarism.

THE ILLUSTRATED CATHOLIC FAMILY ALMANAC for the United States, for
the Year of Our Lord 1877. New York: The Catholic Publication
Society. 1877.

The season would scarcely be itself without this admirable little annual. It is always bright, instructive, and amusing, and the number for the present year shows no falling off in these qualities. The first portion of the _Almanac_ contains the usual calendars, astronomical and ecclesiastical, with the information respecting Catholic feasts and fasts necessary for the coming year. Among the biographical sketches, that of Dr. Brownson claims the first place. It is illustrated by an admirably-executed portrait. There are excellent portraits also of Bishop Verot, Archbishop Connolly of Halifax, N. S., Very Rev. Dr. Moriarty, O.S.A., Rev. Francis Piquet, Pius VII., Vittoria Colonna, all accompanied by brief but interesting sketches. There are, as usual, pictures of old Catholic landmarks in this country, Ireland, and other lands, with pleasing descriptions. Among these, that of St. Joseph’s Church, in Philadelphia, is especially interesting. In addition to the complete and very valuable list of the popes, which was published for the first time last year, and is wisely retained in the present number, there is a complete catalogue of the kings of Ireland, from the Firbholg conquest down to the landing of Henry II. of England. To this is appended some valuable historical remarks. Indeed, there is not a page of this _Almanac_ that can be called dull, and its cheapness happily places it within easy reach of every reader. We only wish that such cheapness and real excellence could be oftener combined in Catholic books.

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By Agnes M. Stewart,
authoress of _Margaret Roper_, etc. 8vo, pp. 365. London: Burns &
Oates. 1876.

The lot of Sir Thomas More was cast in troublous times. He lived amid storms that wrecked many a noble life, and yet no man ever bore throughout a serener soul or a happier and gayer disposition. His character is a study of the most healthful sort; for it exhibits the rare picture of a man who deemed the sacrifice of power, wealth, place, friends, and life itself, to principle and conscience, too ordinary a duty to excite surprise. On whatever side we view the man, the hero comes to light. He lived in an atmosphere of his own creation, and whoever came within its influence left it a better and wiser mortal. He was, in the best sense of the word, a Christian philosopher and statesman. He would jest with Erasmus in antique phrase as though he had but returned from the portico, while a hair-shirt nettled his skin and his soul communed in frequent ejaculation with its Creator.

As a letter-writer he will ever hold a foremost rank because of his sense, humor, wit, and grace of expression. Even the careless construction of some of his letters possesses a charm; for there you see the man disclosing himself without reserve――careful, indeed, that the picture be a true one, but indifferent as to the setting. What could be more delightful than his letters to his children while these were under the care of a tutor at home and he was engrossed by the weighty concerns of office? He flies to the pen as a refuge from distracting thoughts, and pours out his soul to his little ones with a sweet _abandon_; he is sportive and grave by turns and veils deep philosophy and wise counsels beneath the garb of a fresh and mirthful phraseology. He evidently believed with Horace:

“Quamquam ridentem dicere verum
Quid vetat?”

“And how can you want matter of writing to me, who am delighted to hear either of your studies or your play, whom you may then exceedingly please when, having nothing to write of, you write as largely as you can of that nothing, than which nothing is more easy for you to do, especially being women, and therefore prattlers by nature, amongst whom a great story riseth out of nothing.” He then advises them to be careless in nothing, but to bestow conscientious pains on all their performances. The homelife of Sir Thomas affords us the best glimpse of the true character of this great man, and lends a new and sad significance to the scene which occurred between his heart-broken daughter and himself, as he tottered, haggard and emaciated, to the block. He loved his home as the pupil of his eye, and sighed for it when duty called him away. With even such a shrew as his second wife he contrived to make his a model household, where refinement, piety, and cheerfulness ever reigned. Smart retort and repartee, brilliant things and witty sayings, were the salt which lent savor to many a pious reflection and devout allusion while the family shared their daily meals. Thus did Sir Thomas, by being a devout Catholic and a lover of learning, convert a possible home of bickering and discontent into one which nurtured peace, contentment, happiness, and hope.

Unless we pause to study Sir Thomas More in his home at Chelsea, we will fail to discern the peerless knight, the virtuous man, the lover of religion, the sententious philosopher (all which he was), amid the grime and lustful air of Henry’s court,

“Where the individual withers, and the world is more and more.”

Next to Sir Thomas as father, friend, and husband, the reader loves to view him in his exalted capacity of chancellor. From him indeed, the title has acquired its synonymous meaning with unblemished integrity and purity immaculate; for throughout his whole political career he never recognized friend or foe as such; he treated all alike with unswerving impartiality. And in pursuing this course he obtained the reward which he especially desired: the testimony of a good conscience. He felt that, though “there are innumerable hopes to innumerable men, he is happy who is happy day by day”; and this is just the sort of happiness which is born of a good conscience. His decisions bore the mark of his sterling sense and unyielding will, and though many exceptions had been taken to his renderings by those whose interests he countered, not a single reversal could be obtained, while others degraded their high offices and stooped to pander to the lustful instincts of the king. More studied to grace the chancellor’s gown by the practice of every virtue pertaining to the dignity of his position, and shone forth more brilliantly by contrast with the pliant tools of Henry.

“Velut inter ignes
Luna minores.”

The speech which he delivered on the occasion of his investiture will ever remain a model of dignity and modesty. While deprecating the praise bestowed on him by the Duke of Norfolk, he failed not to express his just appreciation of the high and important trust to which he had been called, and this in language so fitting and graceful that his admirers likened him to Cicero.

Miss Stewart, who but a short time ago gave to the world a charming novelette with the title of the _Chancellor and his Daughter_, addressed herself to the task of compiling these memoirs with laudable enthusiasm, such, indeed, as no one acquainted with the subject could fail to experience. Here is a hero-worship of the right sort, growing out of the virtues and learning of her idol, and so far not to be reckoned with Macaulay’s stupid admiration of William III. or Carlyle’s still more fatuous veneration for Frederick of Prussia. She has earned a new title to the esteem in which she is held in England. The book contains an admirable autotype fac-simile of the celebrated picture of the meeting between the chancellor and his daughter.

THE SCIENCE OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. By Father Francis Neumayr, S.J.
London: Burns & Oates. (For sale by The Catholic Publication
Society.)

This is a poor translation of an excellent little book on ascetical theology. Francis Neumayr was born in Munich in 1697. Early in life he entered the Society of Jesus, and, having finished his studies, taught theology with great success during a number of years. He was then sent to fill the pulpit of the Cathedral of Augsburg, and during the ten years in which he held this position acquired an extraordinary reputation as an orator. He did not, however, confine himself to preaching, but wrote on various subjects relating to the religious controversies of his age. His writings were very popular in Germany, and some of them made their way throughout Catholic Europe. _The Science of the Spiritual Life_, which is one of his most widely-known works, is a compendium of what has been called the “science of the saints.” It is written with good judgment and a thorough knowledge of the subject, in a style which is concise without being obscure. There is nothing in it which the simplest cannot readily understand, and yet there is everything that the most learned could desire.

MISSALE ROMANUM ex Decreto Sacros. Concilii Tridentini restitutum,
S. Pii V. Pontificis Maximi jussu editum, Clementis VIII. et
Urbani VIII. auctoritate recognitum. Editio Ratisbonensis X. hujus
forma altera missis novissimis aucta. Cum textu et cantu a
Sacrorum Rituum Congregatione adprobato. 1876. Ratisbonæ, Neo
Eboraci, et Cincinnatii: Sumptibus, chartis, et typis Frederici
Pustet, S. Sedis Apost. et Sacr. Rituum Congreg. typographi.

This beautiful and finely-printed Missal fully sustains the reputation that Mr. Pustet has already gained for his liturgical books. The paper on which it is printed is of the finest quality, and the type by far the best we have yet seen. Special praise is due to the printing of the notation in the prefaces and other musical portions of the work, which is singularly distinct and clear. The Missal is adorned with many fine and artistic pictures, and all the introits are embellished with finely executed initial letters. The proof-sheets have all been read by the Sacred Congregation and approved.

MARGARET ROPER; OR, THE CHANCELLOR AND HIS DAUGHTER. By Agnes
Stewart, Authoress of _Florence O’Neill_, _The Foster-Sisters_,
etc. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1876.

This little book will amply repay perusal. The heroine, Margaret Roper, the favorite daughter of Sir Thomas More, was the model of a noble Christian woman, worthy in every way of her gifted and heroic father. Sir Thomas More was, in the truest and broadest sense of the words, a grand character, a peerless Christian knight without fear and without reproach, true to his honest convictions, to his friends, true to the faith for which he died with the calm heroism of the early martyrs. His murder――to borrow the language of one of his biographers――was one of the blackest crimes ever perpetrated in England under the form of law. Time has only increased the admiration which his grand virtues extorted from his bitterest enemies, and the most bigoted Protestants venerate his name more than that of Cranmer or Cromwell, the unprincipled tools of the heartless tyrant, Henry VIII., who deluged England with innocent blood. His letters to his daughter, skilfully interwoven into the narrative, form a very interesting feature of the volume before us. The character of the greatest of English chancellors is sketched by the authoress with historical fidelity, and the picture of his celebrated daughter is drawn with equal devotion to historic truth.

A PREPARATION FOR DEATH. Done out of French. Chicago: W. F. Squire.
1876.

This is an excellent little book, quite cheap, and well adapted for the sick room. It was originally “done out of French” by a writer in Dublin and has been reprinted in this country by the present publisher. It consists of short prayers, exhortations, and reflections on the Passion of Our Lord. The _imprimatur_ of Bishop Foley is attached.

Another work, though larger, which is peculiarly adapted for spiritual reading during the month of the Holy Souls is the _Life of St. Catherine of Genoa_, published by the Catholic Publication Society. This is not only a beautiful and interesting life of one of those great women who adorn the history of the Church in all ages, but contains in addition St. Catherine’s treatise on Purgatory, which together with her spiritual dialogues, as is said in the introduction, “St. Francis of Sales, that great master in spiritual life, was accustomed to read twice a year.” And “Frederick Schlegel, who was the first to translate St. Catherine’s dialogues into German, regarded them as seldom, if ever, equalled in beauty of style; and such has been the effect of the example of Christian perfection in our saint, that even the American Tract Society could not resist its attraction, and published a short sketch of her life among its tracts, with the title of her name by marriage, Catherine Adorno.” The words of the saints are always golden. One can never repeat them too often or ponder on them too long.

SONGS IN THE NIGHT, AND OTHER POEMS. By the author of _Christian
Schools and Scholars_. London: Burns & Oates. 1876.

Songs with a meaning are these, and full of sweet melody. The singer evidently feels. The feelings are deep, the thought deep also, and steeped in the purest well of religion. The versification is as varied as it is happy; and, indeed, for both thought and expression throughout this small volume we have nothing but praise. The title owes its meaning to the fact that “several of the poems were originally suggested by passages in the _Spiritual Canticles_ of St. John of the Cross, whose use of the word _night_, in a mystic sense, is too well known to need explanation.” The opening poem, “The Fountain of the Night; or, the Canticle of the Soul rejoicing to know God by Faith,” gives a good idea of the tone and excellence of the volume:

There is a Fount whence endless waters flow;
There zephyrs play and fairest flowerets blow.
Full well that crystal Fountain do I know,
Though of the night.

I know the verdant hills that gird it round;
Its source I know not, for no thought can sound
The Spring whence all things first their being found
In the dark night.

I know no earthly beauty to compare
With that mysterious Fount, so calm and fair;
All things in heaven and earth are pictured there,
Though of the night.

The tide wells forth in many a flowing river,
Yet is the Fountain-head exhausted never;
Onward it flows, for ever and for ever,
On through the night.

No cloud obscures, no passing shadows rest
Upon that Fountain’s clear, unruffled breast,
Itself the very source of light confessed,
Though of the night.

Forth from this spring a sparkling Torrent flows;
Who shall the secret of its birth disclose?
And yet I know the source from whence it rose,
Though of the night.

I see from both a mighty River run,
Yet dare not say when first its course begun;
For Fountain, Torrent, River――all are one,
Though of the night.

I know that all are ours――all hidden lie
In form of Bread, hid from the curious eye
To give us life. O love! O mystery
Of deepest night!

And the Life seeks all living things to fill,
To quench our thirst with water from the rill,
To feed, to guide us, though in darkness still,
As of the night.

And ever of that Fount I long to drink,
And ever of that living Bread I think,
And linger by that flowing River’s brink
Through the long night.

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS FOR OUR DEAR LITTLE ONES. By Miss Rosa
Mulholland. New York and Cincinnati: Fr. Pustet.

This beautiful book will be welcomed by the little ones, for whom it is intended, because, from the cover all the way through, it is bright and attractive, and each picture is a pleasant surprise. All the characters of the holy tale are made life-like and familiar, and the children may feel themselves at home with the white-winged angels, the eager shepherds, the stately Magi, and those nearer and dearer ones who attended the Blessed Infant’s earliest years.

By parents this book should be welcomed, because anything that illustrates home-lessons and makes them charming is a valuable friend in the household, and because it provides an acceptable gift which will bring home to children’s hearts the true meaning of the holiday season. The verses are appropriate and not too difficult for the little ones to enjoy.

LECTURES ON SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY. By Father John Cornoldi, S.J.