Chapter IX (3)

Remember, also, that I have been talking of the Madeleine, which is essentially the worldly church of Paris. At St. Roch, situated in Rue St. Honoré, and from whose steps the blood-thirsty crowd jeered at Marie Antoinette as she was being led to the Place de la Concorde, where stood the awful guillotine; at Notre Dame de Lorette, and many others, there is less glitter, less parade, and apparently more devotion. At St. Roch, the beautifully trained choir of boys, and the good music given, attract many Protestants; still the feeling of the church is more Catholic than that of the Madeleine. Here, as elsewhere, I was struck by the vast number of priests in the sanctuary. I thought of our own overworked, faithful priests, and could not help wondering whether a little of their hard work would not be good for those before me.

As I look over what I have written I find that there is no small amount of grumbling and fault-finding in the foregoing pages; I smile to myself as I discover that I have fallen into the little peculiarity which I have so often noticed in my countrymen and countrywomen in Paris: that of finding fault. No American, or Englishman either, whom you may question, will utter ten words on the subject, without abusing the French. "There's no trust to be put in them; they are a lying, mean set," are among the mildest accusations poured forth; and there certainly is some truth in the charges. Americans, with the people at large, are a flock of rich fools, sent over by their lucky stars, on purpose to be fleeced; consequently all the tradespeople you employ, your servants and their ally the _concierge_, invariably ask you about double as much as they would ask a Frenchman, and laugh at you while pocketing your gold. The art of cheapening things, so well understood by the people here, is a new experience to you. You do not like to walk into a handsome shop and offer half the price asked for an article, you are not accustomed to it, feel awkward; all of which the wily shopman sees well enough, and, of course, you end by giving the price required. But that French lady next to you, so handsomely dressed, does not hesitate an instant; you think she at least would have disdained that art of the _bourgeoisie_; not a bit of it; she insists, the clerk, bowing much more respectfully than he did to you, wraps up the article, and the lady sails out in triumph.

But for all this, Americans seem to find wondrous charms in this city, and prolong their stay for one month to two, then to six, and not unfrequently rush back to New York, settle up their affairs, and return to live here permanently, despising the French more and more every year, of course! At this present moment, if all our countrymen and countrywomen, now residing here, were suddenly transplanted to the western prairies, they would form quite a respectable sized city, which would, according to the invariable western custom, begin to defy its sister cities to show a bigger figure when the census came to be taken. But I fancy very few of these Americans, if the question were put to them, would be willing thus to be transported for the good of their country. We are undoubtedly a very patriotic people; but we believe, most devoutly, that charity begins at home. {102} Among these same countrymen of ours I notice the names of a number of well-known artists, who, I understand are well thought of in the artistic world. It is pleasant to hear them praised by our cousins of France, but I cannot help thinking that America, still so young in art, can ill spare her gifted children.

Talking of artists, let me tell you of a sad little incident that came under my own observation. We are all dimly conscious that poverty, sometimes in its direst aspect, harasses the beginning or nearly all artist lives. We have heard that N., whose beautiful picture drew crowds at the last exhibition, and who cannot fulfil all the commissions that pour in upon him--that the same man, not many years ago, might have starved but for the aid of his fellow students; we know this, but, surrounded by comforts and luxuries, it is the hardest thing in the world to realize poverty. We walk the streets, brush by numbers of ragged women, throw a copper to a bare-footed little beggar, but how often do we in our thoughts follow those poor creatures to the hovels or garrets or cellars which serve them as homes? how little we can imagine the cold and damp which chill their bones, or the hunger which gnaws them! Still less do we realize, I think, that beings with the education and feelings of gentlemen, should have to endure these same horrors. I have before my mind, as I write, the face of a young man, an enthusiast in his art, who, while engaged on a long dreamt-of, cherished work, found that in consequence of the war in America, the supplies on which he had calculated gave out. What to do? abandon his work, his career perhaps? return beggared to his native western town, without the promised work which was to show that his time had not been wasted? Never, better starve! and starve he actually would have done, but for the help of a student friend, almost as poor as himself, who shared his daily loaf with him; and so the young man finished his picture, took it over to America, where artists who saw it, seeing that it showed more than ordinary talent, bestirred themselves, and making up a sufficient sum, sent the young man back to his studies, feeling sure that the world would hear of him some day. But I am wondering, let us return to Paris, and to the incident which I was about to relate.

Some few weeks ago I was invited to dinner by some friends settled here for the winter. The meeting was a pleasant one, and I left the brilliantly lighted, handsome rooms with a pleasing glow over me, a reflection perhaps from the good cheer which both mind and body had enjoyed. As I was passing the inevitable _concierge_ lodge, the Cerberus kennel of every French house, I was stopped by the sound of plaintive voice, and looking around I saw a little girl, a child of some ten years, pleading evidently for some great favor with the gruff _concierge_ himself, who, notwithstanding all his decided negative shakes of the head, seemed to be struggling with a certain degree of pity. The child was wretchedly dressed, and her little hands were blue with cold, but in her upturned, pitifully old child's face, there was a certain look of refinement that struck me. I approached and asked what the matter was.

"Ah, pardon, monsieur! it is not of my fault; orders you see must be obeyed, and the landlord ..."

Then he told me the story. It seemed that a month or two before he had been a witness to the turning out from a miserable hole of a poor family; the father called himself an artist, poor devil! his wife had a baby in her arms, and there was a little girl. Seeing their utter distress, and remembering a couple of miserable rooms dignified by the name of "Appartements de garçon," but which did not let easily as they were dark and uncomfortable, he had asked the landlord to allow them to occupy them temporarily. {103} Shortly afterward the poor wife, a delicate, consumptive creature, died; the baby did not survive her many hours, and the two were buried at the expense of the parish, "But now it is impossible that they stay longer, the rooms are let, and they must leave. What will you? monsieur perceives that it is not of my fault." Monsieur feels a pang cut to his very heart. In that same house, where such a short time since he was feasting and laughing, a weary heart, perhaps, was breaking, and a young child struggling with sorrow that made it old.

I asked the man if I might be allowed to see this unfortunate artist, and I saw the child's face brighten as she slipped from his side to mine. I took her hand and we went up, not the broad, handsome staircase which led to my friends' apartments, but a dingy flight of stairs at the back of the court. I was quite out of breath when we at last reached the door of this "appartement de garçon." The child ran in, crying out: "Papa, papa I voici an monsieur qui vient te voir."

A man dressed in miserable, ragged clothes, with a pitiful remnant of gentility about him, was sitting at a rickety white wood table, his face buried in his poor, thin hands, which I noticed were white and finely shaped. At the sound of his child's voice be hastily got up, and seeing me, bowed and offered me the only chair in the room, with a grace worthy of a drawing room. I felt the tears well up to my eyes as I looked at this poor wreck, and thought to myself how many dead hopes and dead aspirations lay buried on that heart. I did not accept the chair, but held out my hand. Something in the simple action, or in my face, perhaps, expressed the sympathy I felt; it was too much for the poor man; be threw himself on the bed sobbing convulsively; you see he was weakened by hunger and cold and sickness. I put some money in the _concierge's_ hand, and he left us, bowing respectfully.

When I turned I saw that the child had thrown herself by the side of her father; he was moaning, but the sobs had already ceased. I felt his forehead and hands, and found that he was in a raging fever. I looked around, the place was miserable enough, and utterly unfit to be a sick room. The _concierge_ shall be gratified, thought I, they shall leave to-night; and sending the little girl out for a carriage, I was left alone with my patient.

His face was much flushed, his eyes wild, and all my efforts to keep him quiet were vain; I was obliged to let him talk. I soon gathered his whole history from his incoherent words. There was nothing very new in it, it was the old story of a respectable father, with a prejudice against the fine arts; of a weary struggle first for fame, and then, forsooth, for bread; of a foolish marriage with a girl as poor as himself, of children born to want and misery, of unappreciated talent, etc. There was an unfinished picture on the easel, and several others about the room; the poor man's eager eye followed my movement as I looked at them, and he sank back comforted as I praised his works. Heaven forgive, the charitable falsehoods! for that glance sufficed to show me that I was comforting one of those wretched beings who had just talent enough to conceive great things, without the power of executing them, which is about the saddest of sad states.

The child soon returned, and I caused my poor invalid to be transported to the Hotel Dieu, until I could make some other arrangement for him; his little girl I put under the care of an honest woman who lived hard by, where she slept; the days she spent by her poor father's bed. That bed he never left, the hard struggle had been too much for him; the death of his wife and child had been too severe a blow to the weak, loving, unfortunate man. Brain fever soon declared itself and one dark, sad December day, his little daughter and I followed his poor coffin to the nearest cemetery. The child was very quiet, but her tearless eyes were unutterably sad.

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I interested my friends in the sad story, and no happy mother, as she drew her own dear ones to her heart, refused to help this bereaved one. So, we made up a purse for her, and the other day I took her to a good school where she is to remain until she is old enough to support herself, poor little orphan! As I was about to leave her, she turned and said in her quiet, undemonstrative way, a few words which I shall not put down here, but which caused me to turn toward the door rather quickly, and to pretend that I had a bad cold in my head.

This is no mere fancy sketch; I only wish it were a solitary instance. Alas! for the poor in this great, rich, bustling, worldly city! But we must bid adieu to it, with its delights, its wonderful sights, its wild merriment, and its dumb misery. Adieu to it, and to you, my readers, a happy, happy New-Year!

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Original.

Dr. Bacon On Conversions To The Catholic Church. [Footnote 29]

[Footnote 29: A Roman Philosopher. A Review of an Article on
Conversion in The Catholic World. By Rev. Dr. Bacon of Yale College.
"New Englander." January, 1867.]

We embrace the opportunity of saying a few words on the topics of controversy which have been started between the author of the article which appeared in our columns on the "Philosophy of Conversion" and his distinguished opponent; not with the view of following up the line of attack opened by our able corresponded; but rather, in order to express our own independent judgment, as a reviewer, on the question discussed, in some of its important bearings.

Minor questions and side issues we leave to the opinions of those who have read both sides, and we do not intend to meddle with them ourselves. The gentleman attacked by Dr. Bacon has presented his view of what Protestantism is, reduced to its logical elements and constitutive principles. His opponent says: "I do not recognize that which you describe as genuine Protestantism." This is all very fair. But he proceeds to infer that the "Roman philosopher," as he designates the author of the essay in question, either does not know what Protestantism is, or wilfully misrepresents it. The doctor also, in turn, attempts to make a statement of Catholic doctrine, as it appears to his mind, when reduced to its logical elements. We, on our part, do not recognize this as a true representation. We might, therefore, with just as much reason recriminate upon Dr. Bacon his own accusations. We shall not do this, however; if for no other reason, because these mutual recriminations in controversy are useless. Those who love the truth can have no motive for misrepresenting the belief and opinions of any class of men. Sincere Catholics and sincere Protestants must alike desire that the principles and grounds of both Catholicity and Protestantism should be placed in the clearest light possible and discussed upon their naked merits, with as little mixture as may be of questions concerning the intellectual or moral qualifications of individuals.

The original and genuine religion of New-England was the Calvinistic Congregationalism of the Puritans, which still survives, with more or less of modifications among the Orthodox Congregationalists, and has its principal seat at New-Haven. The temper and tone of mind prevailing among the clergy and members of this denomination place them at an extremely remote distance from the Catholic mind, and make any interchange of thought between the two very difficult. {105} With the exception of a slight movement started, without much effect that we have ever heard of, by the learned and accomplished Dr. Woods, at Bowdoin College, there has been no tendency in this body of the clergy to return to any higher church principles than those of the Protestant Episcopal denomination. It is this latter body which is the medium of contact between the Catholic Church and the remoter Protestant bodies. It has therefore first felt the effect of the increased inter-communication of thought and influence between the two great divisions of Western Christendom which is characteristic of our time. It is the hierarchical principle, distinguishing this body from other Protestant communions, upon which the influence of the Catholic church has been felt, and most of the controversy has taken this principle as its starting-point. Of course, therefore, it is in a great measure irrelevant to the question as it stands between us and the non-episcopal communions, whether these are what is called evangelical, or liberal, in their theology. We are disposed, therefore, in addressing members of these communions to give the _transeat_ to the whole Oxford controversy, and to allow them to think what they please of the causes which have produced the current setting from Anglicanism toward Rome. The controversy as between us has to be commenced _de novo_, and to be carried on upon an entirely different basis. Circumstances over which neither of us have any control, make this controversy inevitable. We will confine ourselves, for the present, in order to simplify the question, to the relations existing between Catholics and Congregationalists in the State of Connecticut. We say, then, that these relations make a controversy between us inevitable, just as much as other circumstances and relations have made it inevitable between Anglicans and Catholics in England and the United States. The reason of this necessity is, that we have so many things in common, and so many points of difference, that we cannot remain quiescent toward each other, except from isolation in distinct communities, or from mutual apathy to the interests of Christianity. Forty years ago, when Dr. Bacon was commencing his long and distinguished career as a pastor in New-Haven, the question of Catholicity had but little living and present interest for a Connecticut theologian. It was a question of by-gone ages and distant countries. There was not a Catholic in New-Haven, and there were few, if any, in the state, excepting a small handful at Hartford, where the first feeble parish was collected in a small frame church, purchased by Bishop Fenwick from Bishop Brownell and dragged on rollers to a new site. We believe there were no Catholics at that time in Rhode-Island; there were none in Vermont, Maine or New-Hampshire. There were a few thousands in Massachusetts, mostly congregated in Boston. The Bishop of Boston, whose diocese included all New-England, had hardly half a dozen churches besides his very modest cathedral, or more than a dozen priests. When the saintly Cheverus went to Boston, his only cathedral was an old barn. As a matter of course, then, the Catholic religion was looked upon merely as the religion of a few poor immigrants, a bit of wreck from the institutions of the middle ages cast on the New-England shore by the caprice of the waves. This habit of looking at the matter has remained to a great extent unchanged, on account of the almost complete social segregation of the rapidly increasing Catholic community. That it cannot remain unchanged, however, is evident to everyone. There are now fifty priests, one hundred congregations, four religious orders, and a population of 75,000, belonging to the Catholic Church in Connecticut. Although, therefore, isolation has rendered the professors of the traditional religion of the State in a great measure indifferent to the religion of this new element in the population, thus far, it cannot continue; and this is apparent from Dr. Bacon's own statements and views, as expressed in his article. {106} Apathy is also out of the question, especially as regards the clergy. It is evident that the religious and moral doctrines and teachings of the pastors of one fifth of the people of the State cannot be a matter of apathetic indifference to anyone who takes an interest in the religious and moral welfare of his fellow citizens. It follows then, necessarily, that the leading clergy and theologians of the Congregational body in Connecticut must engage with great application and industry in the study of the Catholic system of doctrine and polity, not in second-hand works, but at the original and authentic sources. They must pay attention also to the cotemporary Catholic literature, both in the English and in foreign languages. Studying and thinking on these topics, they will necessarily write, speak, and converse upon them, and thus the same topics will engage the attention of of all their brethren in the clerical profession, and of the intelligent laity. We, on our part, cannot be indifferent to anything written or spoken by men of learning and high position on the great topics of religion. Consequently, we say, there must be controversy between us. In point of fact, a little preliminary controversy has already commenced between ourselves and the organ of the New-Haven literati.

We will not indulge in any premature gratulations over victories we may hope to gain for the Catholic cause in controversy with the Congregationalists, or conversions which may be looked for from among their ranks. We shall on both sides agree that the truth is likely to prevail in the end, and that whatever conquests truth may make redound more to the honor and advantage of the vanquished than of the victors. In expressing our satisfaction that this controversy is inevitable, we do not intend to indicate a desire for a _polemical_ controversy in the rigorous sense of the word. We do not wish to see the Catholic and Protestant pulpits waging a theological artillery duel against each other; or a violent strife for mastery, with all the bitter, hostile feelings which it engenders, inaugurated between the Catholic and Protestant portions of the population. On the contrary, we have particularly in view in what we are writing at present, to bring forward certain considerations tending in an entirely opposite direction. We desire, so far as our humble influence extends, to forestall controversy of the sort alluded to, and to point out what we conceive to be the true spirit and manner in which both sides should approach the subject of the differences which unhappily divide us.

There are two ways in which we may carry on controversy. One way is, for each side to place its own exclusive truth and right in the strongest light, to affirm its doctrines in its own peculiar phraseology in the most positive and dogmatic manner, and to take a position as far remote from that of the other side, and as unintelligible to its opponents as possible; moreover, to take the worst and most unfavorable view possible of the doctrines and positions of the other side, and to impute to them all the most extreme consequences of their principles which seem to ourselves to follow logically from them.

Another way, is to conduct controversy, not from the two opposite extremes of doctrine where the differences is widest and most palpable, but from those middle terms in which both parties agree, and in relation to which they are intelligible to each other. From these middle terms we may proceed to the extremes, and thus endeavor to settle the points in which we differ, by the aid of those in which we agree. The points of difference also, may be perhaps reduced by mutual explanations, and a substantial agreement be proved to exist in some doctrines where there is an apparent contradiction in the terms used to express them.

{107}

In point of fact, these terms of agreement are numerous, and include the most fundamental articles of the Catholic faith. The trinity, the incarnation, the redemption, original sin, the regenerating, sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit, the resurrection and eternal life; the necessity of repentance for sin, and of good works, the canonicity of the principal books of the Old Testament, and of all those of the New Testament, their divine inspiration, the obligation of believing all the truths revealed by God, even if they arc super-intelligible mysteries, on the motive of the divine veracity; these are all doctrines and principles in which there is a substantial agreement. Moreover, the New-Haven school has brought the Calvinistic doctrines in those respect in which it has modified them, into a nearer approximation to the Catholic doctrines, than they were before. In regard to the cardinal point of justification, the difference is really less than it would appear. Although, in the New-Haven theology, faith is made to include what Catholics call the theological virtue of hope, yet it includes also that which we call faith, and which the Council of Trent defines to be the "root of all justification;" that is, a firm, explicit belief in those revealed truths which are necessary _ex necessitate medii_, and a belief at least implicit in all other revealed truths. As Dr. Bacon says, it is held that faith, in order to justify, must be accompanied by charity, or the love of God. It is our opinion, therefore, that the New-Haven divines really hold that it is _fides formata_, or faith informed and vivified by love which justifies, and that this doctrine is practically preached by the Congregational clergy generally. This is identically the Catholic doctrine. In this case and in others, the sayings of the learned Döllinger is verified, that "Protestants and Catholics have theologically come nearer to each other."

Perhaps we may now be able to explain to Dr. Bacon our notion of conversion, in a way which will make it appear not quite so repugnant to his reason and feelings, as it is at present. In order to do this, we will resort to an illustration, which will make our meaning plain.

We suppose Dr. Bacon will admit that the Jews before the time of our Lord did not generally have an explicit belief in the trinity or in the divinity of the Messiah; and that probably the apostles, when they were first called did not have this explicit belief; although these doctrines, especially the latter, are really contained in the Old Testament. Nevertheless, all who were Israelites indeed were in the state of grace, and the children of God. Let us suppose now, the case of a pious Jew, after the ascension of our Lord, who neither believed in Jesus as the true Messiah, nor had culpably and wilfully rejected his claims when sufficiently proposed to him. We suppose Dr. Bacon will admit that this good man had already saving faith, justification, the sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit, was spiritually united to the universal church of which Christ is the head, and was united therefore in faith and love with St. Peter, and all the members of the apostolic communion. St. Peter preaches to him Jesus Christ, and he believes his word, submits to his authority as the apostle of the Lord, is baptized, joins himself to the Christian community, and partakes of the communion. Let us suppose, for the sake of illustration, that this was the case with Stephen, who became the first martyr.

Let us now take the case of Saul of Tarsus. Without deciding positively whether Saul was morally culpable or not, for his opposition to Christianity, we will suppose that he was so. At the time of his going to Damascus, he was therefore without saving faith, unjustified, destitute of sanctifying grace, and therefore not spiritually united with the church of Christ, and with St. Peter and his brethren. By the grace of God Saul believes in Jesus Christ, is baptized, and openly joins the Christian communion governed and taught by the apostles.

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Now, in those two cases, we have instances of an interior change of the intellect and will followed by an exterior change of ecclesiastical relations, which is properly called a conversion to Christianity. Stephen and Saul are treated by the apostles and elders of the church in precisely the same manner, when they apply for baptism. Yet, in the former case, the interior change is not a conversion of the mind from unbelief to divine faith, or of the will from sin to the love of God. It is a conversion of the mind from an inchoate, imperfect apprehension of the revealed object of faith to a complete and perfect apprehension of the same object more clearly revealed. It is a conversion of the will from an implicit determination to submit to the rightful authority of the Messiah, to an explicit, actual obedience to the Lord Jesus as the Son of God, the Prophet, Priest and King of the Jews and of the Gentiles.

In the other case, conversion included in itself the renunciation of a proud, intellectual self-reliance which excluded the spirit of submission to the authority of God over the mind, and the substitution of the humble, docile habit of faith; together with a change of the will or heart from a selfish, cruel devotion to the purely national glory of Judea to a disinterested and divine love of God and all mankind.

In general terms, however, we speak of conversion from Judaism to Christianity in reference to all, who have been born and brought up Jews, and from conviction profess their belief in Jesus Christ, without discriminating among different persons, in regard to their subjective state. If we should undertake to give the philosophy of this conversion, we should probably suppose our subject to represent subjectively what we consider to be objective Judaism, whose logical basis is a denial of the Christ foretold in the Old Testament, and personally made known in the new, as Jesus of Nazareth. We should correctly describe this conversion as a surrender of the mind and will to the authority of Jesus Christ; and should correctly say that no person was thoroughly converted into a Christian, who merely approved of such doctrines, and practiced such precepts of Jesus Christ as he might choose, or select, by his own personal judgment and will; but, who did not submit his mind to all the truth which Christ has taught, on the motive of his divine infallibility, and his will to all he has commanded, on the motive of his divine authority.

It is plain that Stephen must have acknowledged St. Peter as the accredited representative of Jesus Christ, through whom he received the doctrine he was to believe, and the precepts he was to obey, as a Christian. The New Testament was yet unwritten, and the divine word could only be learned from the lips or the apostles. Stephen could not, therefore, submit his mind and will to Jesus Christ, except by submitting to their authority. Now, if this authority has really been transmitted to the successors of St. Peter, and to their colleagues in the episcopate, it is plain that it is by submission to this authority that we are to submit the mind and will to Jesus Christ, who has delegated it to them. "He that heareth you heareth me;" "As my Father hath sent me, even so send I you," Therefore, when a person who has not hitherto formally and explicitly recognized and submitted to this authority, makes his submission to it, we call it a conversion, because it betokens a real interior change of the intellect and will; accompanied by an exterior change of ecclesiastical relations, if he has belonged to any other visible communion before, or, if not, by the assumption of these relations for the first time. This is without respect to his former subjective state of interior relation to Christ and the church. If he had a divine faith before, conversion does not include the passage from a state of unbelief to faith. If this faith was previously vivified by charity, it does not include the passage from a state of sin to the state or grace. {109} If, on the contrary, he was before an infidel, or a wilful heretic, and destitute of charity, conversion includes both these transitions. We do not limit the application of the word conversion to a mere interior and exterior submission to the authority of the church. We employ it also to designate conversion from sin, and continually preach to Catholics who are living in sin the necessity of being converted to a holy life. We apply the term also to a change from a tepid condition of the spiritual life to a habit of more fervent piety. It is used as a general term to denote any marked religious change for the better, and its specific meaning must be determined by the connection in which it is employed. Its indiscriminate use in denoting the act of transition from a Protestant communion to the Catholic church does not necessarily imply that no discrimination can be made among those who make this transition. Nor does it follow that all the language of the writer whom Dr. Bacon criticizes, can be fully verified in regard to all Catholic converts. Numbers of them have had from childhood a firm faith in the principal Christian mysteries, and an habitual determination of the will, at least for many years, to the love of God. In such instances, what is technically called "conversion," is like what we have supposed the conversion of Stephen to have been, the evolution of the principle of faith and obedience into a more perfect and complete actuation. Stephen had _fides formata_ before he was baptized, and so have converts of the kind we are describing, _fides formata_, that is faith which worketh by love, before their external union to the body of the Catholic church is consummated.

The change which takes place in a convert of this kind, is not a transfer of mental allegiance from the word of God to the arbitrary, irresponsible dictation of a hierarchy. It is simply an increased intelligence of the actual contents of the word of God, and of the nature of the medium through which the knowledge of that word is transmitted. The object of faith, upon which the intellectual act of believing terminates, is the revealed truth considered as revealed, or as credible on the veracity of God. The medium or instrument is the testimony by which we are authentically informed of the fact of revelation and of its contents. In the case supposed, the person has received from the testimony of the Church, which reaches him through the Christian tradition, the knowledge of the principal facts and mysteries revealed by Jesus Christ. Having, therefore, a reasonable motive for believing, and the aid of divine grace, he was able, when he attained the use of reason, to elicit explicit acts of faith in the Trinity, the Incarnation, and other doctrines sufficiently proposed to him, to exercise continually the habit of faith, and to persevere in the same without any lapse. In this explicit faith, or faith in actual exercise, was contained an implicit faith in all that God has revealed, but which was not known to the subject in an explicit manner. When he examined into that testimony through which the doctrine of Christ had been proposed to him, he found that his undoubting belief in that testimony contained all implicit recognition of the infallibility of the witness, and that he must either draw the logical conclusion, or renounce the premises. He also found that the article of the creed, "I believe in the Holy Catholic Church," as revealed in the Scripture, and explained by the living, concrete sense of the primitive Christians, contains in itself the idea of infallibility. Convinced, therefore, that the Catholic Church, together with her testimony and instruction respecting the person of the incarnate God and Saviour, testifies and teaches her own infallibility as a witness, teacher, and judge of controversies, and that this doctrine is contained in the word of God, he perceives that he must believe on the veracity of God all that the church proposes to him as contained in the material object of faith, the _objectum materiale quod_ of theologians. {110} When he is further convinced that the bishop who occupies the See of Peter, together with his colleagues, constitutes the _ecclesia docens_, the teaching church, and that the infallible church has, therefore, proclaimed her doctrine in the decrees of the Council of Trent; of course, nothing remains for him to do but to seek admission into the fold of the Catholic Church. This act has not, however, changed the essence of his faith. The _objectum materiale quod_ of faith need not include explicitly the infallibility of the church, since all theologians maintain that the knowledge of God, the Trinity, and the Incarnation, is all that is necessary _ex necessitate medii_, or by an absolute necessity, to saving faith; and many maintain that it is the knowledge of God as the supernatural rewarder which is alone to be placed in this category. Nor is the infallibility of the church included in the _objectum materiale quo_ of faith, that is in the objective motive or determining cause of belief, which is the veracity of God. Billuart and De Lugo may be consulted on this point by any who wish to ascertain the germane sense of Catholic theology. Archbishop Manning, in a letter to Dr. Pusey, on the Workings of the Holy Spirit in the Church of England, has brought out this doctrine with appropriate proofs and citations in a very lucid and admirable manner. The letter can be found in the Catholic World for June, 1865. The same had been previously done by Father Walworth, in a sermon entitled Good Samaritans, published in the Volume of Paulist Sermons for 1864.

The church is the medium through which the object of faith is intellectually beheld, and the only medium. It is, therefore, impossible for her to substitute any other material object of faith in lieu of the true object, and equally impossible that the material object of faith should be seen at all through any other medium. Whoever, therefore, believes what the church proposes to his belief, necessarily believes in the true object of faith, and whoever believes in the true object of faith necessarily believes in it through the proposition of the church.

The first conclusion we draw from this postulate is, that the notion of Catholics being subject to an arbitrary authority of the hierarchy or the pope to impose whatever articles or belief they may choose, is a pure misapprehension. The church is a witness to the doctrines and facts once for all revealed at her original foundation. These doctrines and facts are on record, The testimony of the church in regard to them has been publicly given, and she cannot retract her testimony without manifestly falsifying her claim to be an infallible witness. As a judge of controversies, she can only judge of controversies relating to these very facts and doctrines. These judgments, once given, are irrevocable. They have been already pronounced respecting all the great facts and doctrines of Christianity, and are on record. One who submits to these judgments knows to what he is submitting. The synopsis of all Catholic doctrine is given to him in the decrees of the Council of Trent. Since that Council there has been but one definition of faith made, and that was the definition of a doctrine already universally believed before it was defined. The notion that a Catholic is subject to capricious, arbitrary, and unlimited decrees binding his faith is altogether chimerical. There is no room for further definitions except in regard to certain theological questions relating to doctrines already defined, and the practice of the church has proved how slow she is to limit the liberty of opinion in the schools by a final decision of questions of this kind. The argument from the tyrannical nature of church authority is therefore a mere begging of the question in dispute between Catholics and Protestants. If the church, as Catholics define the church, be not infallible, her judicial decisions of doctrine are tyrannical. If she is infallible, they are not, and do not enslave either faith or reason. {111} It is no tyranny over faith, to make known with unerring certainty what God has revealed, or what is a deduction from that which he has revealed. It is no tyranny over reason to furnish it with certain universal principles and indisputable data, from which to make its deductions. The only real question, therefore, respects the infallibility of the church. So far as the great mysteries of faith which are believed by orthodox Protestants are concerned, they must admit that the Catholic Church holds and teaches them; is compelled by her own formal principle to hold them, because she has long ago put on record her testimony respecting them; and can never change her doctrine on any of these vital points.

Our second conclusion is, that the notion of Catholic doctrine which conceives of it as requiring one to believe that there is no true faith or holiness outside of the visible communion of the See of Peter, is equally erroneous. All that Archbishop Manning has said of the workings of the Holy Spirit in the Church of England is equally applicable to the Congregational Church of Connecticut. We have no just reason for regarding the original colonists as formal heretics or schismatics, and even less reason for including the subsequent generations in that category. All who have lived and died in that faith which worketh by charity we acknowledge as the children of God and our brethren in Jesus Christ. Those now living who have this _fides formata_, are spiritually united to the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints. Consequently, if any of these shall hereafter enter the visible body of the church, not only will they not be required to deny the validity of their baptismal covenant with God, and to abjure their former spiritual life, but they will find in the tribunal of penance that both will be recognized.

We repeat, therefore, once more, that the proper basis on which we may confer together concerning the faith, is to be found in those doctrines in which we agree, and not in those in which we differ. We may not make a positive judgment in regard to the interior and subjective relation of individuals toward God or the true Church of God. We leave that to him who is the only judge of hearts and consciences. We are sure of this, however, that we are bound to cultivate the spirit of Christian charity toward those who profess allegiances to our common Lord, to the utmost possible extent. This charity forbids us to make an arrogant and harsh judgment that they are, _en masse_ and by the simple fact of their outward profession, aliens from the household of faith, or that any particular individual is so, unless he makes it plainly manifest in his conduct. We are agreed on both sides that we are responsible to God for our belief; and bound, as teachers and theologians, to study conscientiously the truths of the divine revelation. We have also a common interest in endeavoring to come to an agreement, so far as this is necessary in order to establish unity of faith and of ecclesiastical fellowship. Let us suppose for a moment that Dr. Bacon represents the Congregational clergy of Connecticut, and that we have the honor to represent the Catholic clergy. We shall agree that it is our common interest to defend the authenticity and inspiration of all those books of the Holy Scripture which we revere in common as canonical, and the historic truth of the Mosaic and Evangelical records, against infidel rationalism. Also, to solve the difficulties raised by modern science in relation to the harmony between rational and revealed truth. Also, to preserve the faith of the people in the Trinity, the Incarnation, and other doctrines which we hold in common, and which are strongly attacked by many popular preachers and writers in New-England. Also, to counteract the tendency to indifferentism and apathy in regard to religion which is so common. {112} Also, to take all possible means to bring the mass of the people under the influence of the spiritual and moral truths of the Gospel. Also, to protect the Christian ordinance of marriage from being to a great extent subverted by the practice of divorce. Also, to suppress intemperance, licentiousness, and immoralities destructive of the well-being of society. Also, to protect the religious liberties and rights of all religious societies, and the property, which is devoted to religious, charitable, and scientific purposes. Also, to do all in our power to blend the various elements of the population into one homogeneous body, and to educate them in an enlightened and devoted attachment to the political principles of the founders of the state.

We will not go any further with our enumeration, for fear of assuming too much in respect to the sentiments of our respected friend, Dr. Bacon. We speak for our individual self alone, in saying that we cannot but deplore the obstacle which is put in the way of carrying out into practical results our common desire for the spiritual, moral, and social well-being of the people of our native and ancestral State, by the schism which exists among those who profess in common so large a portion of the Christian faith. The spectacle presented by a divided Christianity is to us extremely painful. We think it ought to be, also, to a member of the church founded by the Puritans. The forefathers of New-England undoubtedly intended to plant the pure church and faith of Christ. They made the greatest sacrifices and the most heroic exertions in order to do it. They expected their church to flourish, to remain, and to include in its fold all their posterity. They took somewhat stringent measures to secure the success of their plan, and notwithstanding our difference of judgment from them as to the justice or wisdom of their policy, we must allow that they were conscientious. Things have turned out, however, quite otherwise than they sanguinely expected. Not to speak of the more extreme change which has taken place at the headquarters of Puritanism, Connecticut is divided up among Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Methodists, and Baptists, to say nothing of the small sects which exist there. Rival colleges and seminaries have been established, and even rival schools of theology among the Congregationalists dispute over their respective interpretations of the ancient standards of doctrine. Dr. Bacon and his friends have had no little to suffer during their public career as ministers and professors of theology, from the imputation of heterodoxy, and they know well how frequently and how deeply religious differences have interfered with the peace of families, the union of friends, and the success of religions efforts. The Catholic Church we say nothing about, for this has been almost exclusively the church of a late immigration of poor people, who have sought an asylum from English tyranny among the descendants of those who long ago fled from that same tyranny, and so nobly broke its yoke from their necks.

However tolerable and unavoidable such a state of things may appear to some, we cannot but think that the foresight of it would have made the stern old Puritans of the ancient times groan in spirit. We confess that we sympathize with them, and that it occasions mournful thoughts to look on the failure of such a high-souled undertaking as theirs. We sympathize with their strong affirmation of strict dogmatic and ecclesiastical principles, and with the same affirmation as made by those who have adhered to the doctrine handed down from them. We cannot help looking on division respecting that which pertains to the true, orthodox faith, and the essential terms of Christian communion, as a great evil. The complaint made by the late eminent president of Brown University, Dr. Wayland, of the extensive and growing scepticism of educated men, and the general decay of practical faith, must be well known to the educated religious public of New England. {113} It is our opinion, that the separation and disagreement among the professed teachers of Christianity is one great cause of this, and that it breaks the moral force of the evidence of Christianity in the minds of a large portion of the most intelligent class, and in the popular mind also. It disintegrates and neutralizes that power which a united body would have, and which would give it an irresistible moral force against infidelity, irreligion, and public immorality. We cannot help longing for the time, when all those who are now disunited shall be brought together in one fold, professing one faith, exhibiting the divine truth of the religion of Jesus Christ by their charity and peace, training up their children from infancy in the practice of religion, worshipping at the same altar, participating in life and at the hour of death in the same holy rites, and fully realizing what a Christian people ought to be.