Chapter I: The Emperor's Feast (6)

The processions invariably ended by passing through the cathedral and stopping for some minutes in the open space between the high altar and the choir. The effect of the brilliant mass of light thrown by thousands of wax tapers, as the great unwieldy catafalque was borne through the profound darkness of the long aisles, was beautiful in the extreme; and representations which looked gaudy in the sunshine were mellowed and softened by the contrast with the night. The best were "The Sacred Infancy," the "Bearing of the Cross," and the "Descent from the Cross." In all, the figures were the size of life, and these three were beautifully and naturally designed. Less pleasing to English eyes, in spite of their wonderful splendor, were those of the blessed Virgin, decked out in gorgeous velvet robes, embroidered in gold, and covered with jewels, with lace pocket-handkerchiefs in the hand, and all the paraphernalia of a fine lady of the nineteenth century! It is contrary to our purer taste, which thinks of her as represented in one of Raphael's chaste and modest pictures, with the simple robe and headdress of her land and people; or else in the glistening white marble, chosen by our late beloved cardinal as the fittest material for a representation of her in his "Ex Voto," and which speaks of the spotless purity of her holy life. Leaving the house of the regent, the party made their way with difficulty through the dense crowd to the cathedral, where the Tenebrae began, followed by the Miserere, beautifully and touchingly sung, without any organ accompaniments, at the high altar. It was as if the priests were pleading for their people's sins before the throne of God. The next day was spent altogether in these solemn holy Thursday services. After early communion at the fine church of S. Maria Magdalena, thronged, like all the rest, with devout worshippers, our party went to high mass at the cathedral, after which the blessed sacrament, according to custom, was carried to the gigantic "monumento." or sepulchre, before mentioned, erected at the west door of the cathedral, and dazzling with light. Then came the "Cena" in the archbishop's palace, at which his blindness prevented his officiating; and then our travellers went round the town to visit the "sepulchres" in the different churches, one more beautiful than the other, and thronged with such kneeling crowds that going from one to the other was a matter of no small difficulty. The heat also increased the fatigue; and here, as at Palermo, no carriages are allowed from holy Thursday till Easter day: every one must perform these pious pilgrimages on foot. At half past two, they went back to the cathedral for the washing of the feet. An eloquent sermon followed, and then began the Tenebrae and the Miserere as before, with the entry of the processions between: the whole lasted till half-past eleven at night.

{454}

Good Friday was as solemn as the same day is at Rome or at Jerusalem. The adoration of the cross in the cathedral was very fine: but women were not allowed to kiss it as in the Holy City. After that was over, some of the party, by the kind invitation of the Duc and Duchesse de Montpensier, went to their private chapel, at St. Elmo, for the "Tre Ore d'Agonic," being from twelve to three o'clock, or the hours when our Saviour hung upon the cross. It was a most striking and impressive service. The beautiful chapel was entirely hung with black, and pitch dark. On entering, it was impossible to see one's way among the kneeling figures on the floor, all, of course, in deep mourning. The sole light was very powerfully thrown on a most beautiful picture of the crucifixion, in which the figures were the size of life. The sermon, or rather meditation on the seven words of our Lord on the cross, was preached by the superior of the oratory of S. Felippo Neri, a man of great eloquence and personal holiness. It would be impossible to exaggerate the beauty and pathos of two of these meditations; the one on the charity of our blessed Lord, the other on his desolation. A long low sob burst from the hearts of his hearers at the conclusion of the latter. The wailing minor music between was equally beautiful and appropriate; it was as the lament of the angels over the lost, in spite of the tremendous sacrifice! At half-past three, the party returned to the cathedral, where the services lasted till nine in the evening, and then came home in the state of mind and feeling so wonderfully represented by De la Roche, in the last portion of his "Good Friday" picture. Beautifully does Faber exclaim: "The hearts of the saints, like sea-shells, murmur of the passion evermore."

The holy Saturday functions began soon after five the next morning, and were as admirably conducted as all the rest. Immense praise was due to the "maestro de ceremonias," who had arranged services so varied and so complicated with such perfect order and precision: and the conduct of the black-veiled kneeling multitude throughout was equally admirable; one and all seemed absorbed by the devotions of the time and season.

That evening, the Vigil of Easter was spent in the cathedral by some of our party in much the same manner as they had done on a preceding one in the Holy City two years before. The night was lovely. The moon was streaming through the cloisters on the orange-trees of the beautiful "patio," across which the Giralda threw a deep sharp shadow, the silver light catching the tips of the arches, and shining with almost startling brightness on the "Pietà" in the little wayside chapel at the south entrance of the court. All spoke of beauty, and of peace, and of rest, and of stillness, and of the majesty of God. Inside the church were groups of black or veiled figures, mostly women, (were not women the first at the sepulchre?) kneeling before the tabernacle, or by the little lamps burning here and there in the side chapels. Each heart was pouring forth its secret burden of sorrow or of sin into the sacred heart which had been so lately pierced to receive it. At two in the morning matins began, "Haec dies quam fecit Dominus;" and after matins a magnificent Te Deum, pealed forth by those gigantic organs, and sung by the whole strength of the choir and by the whole body of voices of the crowd, which by that time had filled every available kneeling space in the vast cathedral. Then came a procession; all the choristers in red cassocks, with white cottas and little gold diadems. High mass followed, and then low masses at all the side altars, with hundreds of communicants, and the Russian salutation of "Christ is risen!" on every tongue. It was "a night to be remembered," as indeed was all this holy week: and now people seemed too happy to speak; joy says short words and few ones. {455} Many have asked: "Is it equal to Jerusalem or Rome?" In point of services, "Yes;" in point of interest, "No;" for the presence of the Holy Father in the one place, and the vividness of recollection which the actual scenes of our blessed Lord's passion inspires in the other, must ever make the holy and eternal cities things apart and sacred from all besides. But nowhere else can "fonctions" be seen in such perfection or with such solemnity as at Seville. Everything is reverently and well done, and nothing has changed in the ceremonial for the last three hundred years.

A domestic sorrow had closed the palace of the Duc and Duchesse de Montpensier as far as their receptions were concerned; but they kindly gave our party permission to see both house and gardens, which well deserve a visit. The palace itself reminded them a little of the Duc d'Aumale's at Twickenham: not in point of architecture, but in its beautiful and interesting contents; in its choice collections of pictures, and books, and works of art, and in the general tone which pervaded the whole. There are two exquisite Murillos; a "St. Joseph" and a "Holy Family;" a "Divino Morales;" a "Pieta;" some beautiful "Zurbarans;" and some very clever and characteristic sketches by Goya. They have some curious historical portraits also, and some very pretty modern pictures. The rooms and passages abound in beautiful cabinets, rare china, sets of armor, African trappings, and oriental costumes. In the snug low rooms looking on the garden, and reminding one of Sion or of Chiswick, there are little fountains in the centre of each, combining oriental luxury and freshness with European comfort. The gardens are delicious. They contain a magnificent specimen of the "palma regis," and quantities of rare and beautiful shrubs; also an aviary of curious and scarce birds. You wander for ever through groves of orange, and palms, and aloes, and under trellises covered with luxuriant creepers and clustering roses, with a feeling of something like envy at the climate, which seems to produce everything with comparatively little trouble or culture. To be sure there is "le revers de la médaille," when the scorching July sun has burnt up all this lovely vegetation. But the spring in the garden of St. Elmo is a thing to dream about.

From this enjoyable palace our party went on to visit "Pilate's House," so called because built by Don Enrique de Ribera, of the exact proportions of the original, in commemoration of his pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1519. It is now the property of the Duque de Medina Sidonia. Passing into a cool "patio," you see a black cross, marking the first of the stations of a very famous Via Crucis, which begins here and ends at the Cruz del Campo outside the town. There is a pretty little chapel opening out of the "patio," ornamented with Alhambra work, as is all the rest of this lovely little moresque palace. It is a thorough bit of Damascus, with its wonderful arabesqued ceilings, and lace-like carvings on the walls and staircases, and cloistered "patios," and marble floors and fountains. Behind is a little garden full of palms, orange-trees, and roses in full flower, and, at the time our travellers saw it, carpeted with Neapolitan violets; quaint low hedges, as in the Alcazar gardens, divided the beds, and broken sculpture lay here and there.

One of the great treasures of Seville had yet been unvisited by our party, and that was the Lonja, formerly the Exchange, a noble work of Herrera's. It stands between the cathedral and the Alcazar, and is built in the shape of a great quadrangle, each side being about two hundred feet wide. Ascending the fine marble staircase, they came to the long "sala" containing the famous "Indian Archives," that is, all the letters and papers concerning the discovery of South America. {456} There are thousands of MS. letters, beautifully arranged and docketed; and among them the autographs of Fernando Cortes, Pizarro, Magellan, Americo Vespuzio, (who could not write his own name, and signed with a mark,) Fra Bartolomeo de las Cazas, and many others. There is also the original bull of the pope, granting the new South American discoveries to the Spaniards; and another, defining the rights between the Spaniards and the Portuguese in the matter of the conquered lands. The librarian, a very intelligent and good-natured personage, also showed them a curious list, sent home and signed by Fernando Cortes, of the silks, painted calabashes, feathers, and costumes presented by him to the king; and a quantity of autograph letters of Charles V., Ferdinand and Isabella, and of Philip IV. Fernando Cortes died at Castilleja, on December 3, 1547, and the following day his body was transported to the family vault of the Duque de Medina Sidonia, in the monastery of San Isidoro del Campo. The Duc de Montpensier has purchased the house, and made a collection of everything belonging to the great discoverer, including his books, his letters, various objects of natural history, and some very curious portraits, not only of Cortes himself, but of Christopher Columbus, Pizarro, Magellan, the Marques del Valle, (of the Sicilian family of Monteleone,) Bernal Diaz, Velasquez, of the historian of the conquest of Mexico, Don Antonio Solis, and many others.

In the afternoon, the Marques de P---- called for our travellers to take them to the university, and to introduce them to the rector and to the librarian, whose name was the well-deserved one of Don José Bueno, a most clever and agreeable man, whose pure Castilian accent made his Spanish perfectly intelligible to his English visitors. He very good-naturedly undertook to show them all the most interesting MSS. himself, together with some beautiful missals, rare first editions of various classical works, and some very clever etchings of Goya's of bull-fights and ladies--the latter of doubtful propriety. In the church belonging to the university are some fine pictures by Roelas and Alonso Cafio, some beautiful carvings by Montanés, and several very fine monuments. In the rector's own room is a magnificent "St. Jerome," by Lucas Kranach, the finest work of that artist that exists. There are 1,200 students in this university, which rivals that of Salamanca in importance.

Taking leave of the kind librarian, the Marques de P---- went on to show them a private collection of pictures belonging to the Marques Cessera. Amidst a quantity of rubbish were a magnificent "Crucifixion," by Alonso Caño; a Crucifix, painted on wood, by Murillo, for an infirmary, and concealed by a Franciscan during the French occupation in 1812; a Zurbaran, with his own signature in the corner; and, above all, a "Christ bound with the Crown of Thorns," by Murillo, which is the gem of the whole collection, and perfectly beautiful both in coloring and expression.

Coming home, they went to see the house to which Murillo was taken after his accident at Cadiz, and where he finally died; also the site of his original burial, before his body was removed to the cathedral where it now rests.

But one of the principal charms of our travellers' residence in Seville has not yet been mentioned; and that was their acquaintance, through the kind Bishop of Antinoe, with Fernan Caballero. She may be called the Lady Georgiana Fullerton of Spain, in the sense of refinement of taste and catholicity of feeling. But her works are less what are commonly called novels than pictures of home life in Spain, like Hans Andersen's "Improvisatore," or Tourgeneff's "Scènes de la Vie en Russie."

This charming lady, by birth a German on the father's side, and by marriage connected with all the "bluest blood" in Spain, lives in apartments given her by the queen in the palace of the Alcazar. {457} Great trials and sorrows have not dimmed the fire of her genius or extinguished one spark of the loving charity which extends itself to all that suffer. Her tenderness toward animals, unfortunately a rare virtue in Spain, is one of her marked characteristics. She has lately been striving to establish a society in Seville for the prevention of cruelty to animals, after the model of the London one, and often told one of our party that she never left her home without praying that she might not see or hear any ill-usage to God's creatures. She is no longer young, but still preserves traces of a beauty which in former years made her the admiration of the court. Her playfulness and wit, always tempered by a kind thoughtfulness for the feelings of others, and her agreeableness in conversation, seem only to have increased with lengthened experience of people and things. Nothing was pleasanter than to sit in the corner of her little drawing-room, or, still better, in her tiny study, and hear her pour out anecdote after anecdote of Spanish life and Spanish peculiarities, especially among the poor. But if one wished to excite her, one had but to touch on questions regarding her faith and the so-called "progress" of her country. Then all her Andalusian blood would be roused, and she would declaim for hours in no measured terms against the spoliation of the monasteries, those centres of education and civilization in the villages and outlying districts; against the introduction of schools without religion, and colleges without faith; and the propagation of infidel opinions through the current literature of the day.

Previous acquaintance with the people had already made some of our travellers aware of the justice of many of her remarks. Catholicism in Spain is not merely the religion of the people; _it is their life_. It is so mixed up with their common expressions and daily habits, that, at first, there seems to a stranger almost an irreverence in their ways. It is not till you get thoroughly at home, both with them and their language, that you begin to perceive that holy familiarity, if one may so speak, with our divine Lord and his Mother which impregnates their lives and colors all their actions. Theirs is a world of traditions, which familiarity from the cradle have turned into faith, and for that faith they are ready to die. Ask a Spanish peasant why she plants rosemary in her garden. She will directly tell you that it was on a rosemary-bush that the blessed Virgin hung our Saviour's clothes out to dry as a baby. Why will a Spaniard never shoot a swallow? Because it was a swallow that tried to pluck the thorns out of the crown of Christ as he hung on the cross. Why does the owl no longer sing? Because he was by when our Saviour expired, and since then his only cry is "Crux! crux!" Why are dogs so often called Melampo in Spain? Because it was the name of the dog of the shepherds who worshipped at the manger at Bethlehem. What is the origin of the red rose? A drop of the Saviour's blood fell on the white roses growing at the foot of the cross and so on, for ever! Call it folly, superstition--what you will. You will never eradicate it from the heart of the people, for it is as their flesh and blood, and their whole habits of thought, manners, and customs run in the same groove. They have, like the Italians, a wonderful talent for "improvising" both stories and songs; but the same beautiful thread of tender piety runs through the whole.

One day, Fernan Caballero told them, an old beggar was sitting on the steps of the Alcazar: two or three children, tired of play, came and sat by him, and asked him, child-like, for "a story." He answered as follows: "There was once a hermit, who lived in a cave near the sea. He was a very good and charitable man, and he heard that in a village on the mountain above there was a very bad fever, and that no one would go and nurse the people for fear of infection. {458} So up he toiled, day after day, to tend the sick, and look after their wants. At last he began to get tired, and to think it would be far better if he were to move his hermitage up the hill, and save himself the daily toil. As he walked up one day, turning this idea over in his mind, he heard some one behind him saying: 'One, two, three.' He looked round, and saw no one. He walked on, and again heard: 'Four, five, six, seven.' Turning short round this time, he beheld one in white and glistening raiment, who gently spoke as follows: 'I am your guardian angel, and am _counting the steps which you take for Christ's poor_.'"

The children understood the drift of it as well as you or I, reader! and this is a sample of their daily talk. Their reverence for age is also a striking and touching characteristic. The poorest beggar is addressed by them as "tio" or "tia," answering to our "daddy" or "granny;" and should one pass their cottage as they are sitting down to their daily meal, they always rise and offer him a place, and ask him to say grace for them, "echar la benedicion." They are, indeed, a most lovable race, and their very pride increases one's respect for them. Often in their travels did one of the party lose her way, either in going to some distant church in the early morning, or in visiting the sick; and often was she obliged to have recourse to her bad Spanish to be put in the right road. An invariable courtesy, and generally an insistence on accompanying her home, was the result. But if any money or fee were offered for the service, the indignant refusal, or, still worse, the _hurt_ look which the veriest child would put on at what it considered the height of insult and unkindness, very soon cured her of renewing the attempt.

Another touching trait in their character is their intense reverence for the blessed sacrament. In the great ceremonies of the church, or when it is passing down the street to a sick person, the same veneration is shown. One day, one of the English ladies was buying some photographs in a shop, and the tradesman was explaining to her the different prices and sizes of each, when, all of a sudden, he stopped short, exclaiming: "Sua Maestà viene!" and leaving the astonished lady at the counter, rushed out of his shop-door. She, thinking it was the royalties, who were then at the Alcazar, went out too to look, when, to her pleasure and surprise, she saw the shopman and all the rest of the world, gentle and simple, kneeling reverently in the mud before the messenger of the Great King, who was bearing the host to a dying man. On the day when it is carried processionally to the hospitals, (one of which is the first Sunday after Easter,) every window and balcony is "parata," or hung with red, as in Italy at the passage of the Holy Father; every one throws flowers and bouquets on the baldachino, and that to such an extent that the choir-boys are forced to carry great clothes-baskets to receive them: the people declare that the very horses kneel! The feast of Corpus Christi was unfortunately not witnessed by our travellers. Calderon, in his Autos Sacramentales, speaking of it, says:

"Que en el gran dia de Dios,
Quien no está loco, no es cuerdo!"

Here is indeed "a voice from the land of faith." The choir on the occasion dance before the host a dance so solemn, so suggestive, and so peculiar, that no one who has witnessed it can speak of it without emotion. Fernan Caballero talked much also of the great purity of morals among the peasantry. Infanticide, that curse of England, is _absolutely unknown in Spain_; whether from the number of foundling hospitals, or from what other reasons, we leave it to the political economists to discover. A well-known Spanish writer describes the women as having "Corazones delectos, minas de amores," and being "puros y santos modelos de esposas y de madres." (Exceptional hearts, mines of love, and being pure and holy models of wives and mothers.) {459} They are also wonderfully cleanly, both in their houses and their persons. There are never any bad smells in the streets or lodgings. Fleas abound from the great heat; but no other vermin is to be met with either in the inns or beds, or in visiting among the sick poor, in all of which they form a marked contrast to the Italian peasantry, and, I fear we must add, to the English!

Their courtesy toward one another is also widely different from the ordinary gruff, boorish intercourse of our own poor people; and the very refusal to a beggar, "Perdone, Usted, por Dios, hermano!" [Footnote 143] speaks of the same gentle consideration for the feelings of their neighbors which characterizes the race, and emanates from that divine charity which dwells not only on their lips, but in their hearts. One peculiarity in their conversation has not yet been alluded to, and that is their passion for proverbs. They cannot frame a sentence without one, and they are mostly such as illustrate the kindly, trustful, pious nature the people. "_Haz lo bien, y no mira á quien._" (Do good, and don't look to whom.) "_Quien no es agradecido, no es bien nacido._" (He who is not courteous is not well born.) "_Cosa cumplida solo en la otra vida_." (The end of all things is only seen in the future life.) And so on _ad infinitum_.

[Footnote 143: "Forgive me, for the love of God, brother!"]

No description of Seville would be complete without mention of the "patio," so important a feature in every Andalusian house; and no words can be so good for the purpose as those of Fernan Caballero, which we translate almost literally from her "Familia de Alvareda:"

"The house was spacious and scrupulously clean; on each side of the door
was a bench of stone. In the porch hung a little lamp before the image of
our Lord, in a niche over the entrance, according to the Catholic custom
of placing all things under holy protection. In the middle was the
'patio,' a necessity to the Andalusian; and in the centre of this
spacious court, an enormous orange-tree raised its leafy head from its
robust and clean trunk. For an infinity of generations had this beautiful
tree been a source of delight to the family. The women made tonic
concoctions of its leaves, the daughters adorned themselves with its
flowers, the boys cooled their blood with its fruits, the birds made
their home in its boughs. The rooms opened out of the 'patio,' and
borrowed their light from thence. This 'patio' was the centre of all--
the 'home,' the place of gathering when the day's work was over. The
orange-tree loaded the air with its heavy perfume, and the waters of the
fountain fell in soft showers on the marble basin, fringed with the
delicate maiden hair fern; and the father, leaning against the tree,
smoked his 'cigarro de papel;' and the mother sat at her work; while the
little ones played at her feet, the eldest resting his head on a big dog
stretched at full length on the cool marble slabs. All was still, and
peaceful, and beautiful."

------

{460}

From Once a Week.

Sir Ralph De Blanc-Minster.

The Vow.

Hush! 'tis a tale of the elder time,
Caught from an old barbaric rhyme,
How the fierce Sir Ralph of the haughty hand
Harnessed him for our Saviour's land!

"Time trieth troth!" thus the lady said,
"And a warrior must rest in Bertha's bed;
Three years let the severing seas divide,
And strike thou for Christ and thy trusting bride!"

So he buckled on the beamy blade,
That Gaspar of Spanish Leon made,
Whose hilted cross is the awful sign:
It must burn for the Lord and his tarnished shrine!

The Adieu.

"Now a long farewell! tall Stratton tower,
Dark Bude! thy fatal sea:
And God thee speed, in hall and bower,
My manor of Bien-aimè!

"Thou, too, farewell! my chosen bride,
Thou rose of Rou-tor land:
Though all on earth were false beside,
I trust thy plighted hand.

"Dark seas may swell, and tempests lower,
And surging billows foam;
The cresset of thy bridal bower
Shall guide the wanderer home!

"On! for the cross! in Jesu's land,
When Syrian armies flee,
One thought shall thrill my lifted hand,
I strike for God and thee!"

{461}

The Battle.

Hark! how the brattling trumpets blare!
Lo! the red banners flaunt the air!
And see! his good sword girded on,
The stern Sir Ralph to the war is gone!

Hurrah! for the Syrian dastards flee:
Charge! charge! ye western chivalry!
Sweet is the strife for God's renown,
The Cross is up and the Crescent down!

The weary warrior seeks his tent:
For the good Sir Ralph is pale and spent;
Five wounds he reaped in the field of fame,
Five in his blessèd Master's name.

The solemn leech looks sad and grim,
As he binds and soothes each gory limb;
And the girded priest must chant and pray,
Lest the soul unhouseled pass away.

The Treachery.

A sound of horsehoofs on the sand!
And ha! a page from Cornish land.
"Tidings," he said, as he bent the knee;
"Tidings, my lord, from Bien-aimè.

"The owl shrieked thrice from the warder's tower:
The crown-rose withered in her bower:
Thy good gray foal, at evening fed.
Lay in the sunrise stark and dead!"

"Dark omens three!" the sick man cried;
"Say on the woe thy looks betide."
"Master! at bold Sir Rupert's call,
Thy Lady Bertha fled the hall!"

The Scroll.

"Bring me," he said, "that scribe of fame,
Symeon el Siddekah his name;
With parchment skin, and pen in hand,
I would devise my Cornish land!

"Seven goodly manors, fair and wide,
Stretch from the sea to Tamar-side,
And Bien-aimè, my hall and bower,
Nestles beneath tall Stratton tower!

{462}

"All these I render to my God!
By seal and signet, knife and sod:
I give and grant to church and poor,
In franc almoign for evermore!

"Choose ye seven men among the just,
And bid them hold my lands in trust,
On Michael's morn and Mary's day
To deal the dole and watch and pray!

"Then bear me, coldly, o'er the deep,
'Mid my own people I would sleep:
Their hearts shall melt, their prayers will breathe,
Where he who loved them rests beneath.

"Mould me in stone, as here I lie,
My face upturned to Syria's sky;
Carve ye this good sword at my side,
And write the legend, 'True and tried!'

"Let mass be said, and requiem sung;
And that sweet chime I loved be rung:
Those sounds along the northern wall
Shall thrill me like a trumpet-call!"

Thus said he and at set of sun
The bold crusader's race was run.
Seek ye his ruined hall and bower?
Then stand beneath tall Stratton tower!

The Mort-main.

Now the demon watched for the warrior's soul
'Mid the din of war where blood-streams roll;
He had waited long on the dabbled sand
Ere the priest had cleansed the gory hand.

Then as he heard the stately dole
Wherewith Sir Ralph had soothed his soul,
The unclean spirit turned away
With a baffled glare of grim dismay.

But when he caught those words of trust,
That sevenfold choice among the just,
"Ho! ho!" cried the fiend, with a mock at heaven,
"I have lost but one I shall win the seven!"

------

{463}

Original.

Guettée's Papacy Schismatic. [Footnote 144]

[Footnote 144: The Papacy: Its Historic Origin and Primitive Relations
with the Eastern Churches. By the Abbé-Guettée, D.D. Translated from the
French, and prefaced by an original biographical notice of the author,
with an Introduction by A. Cleveland Coxe, Bishop of Western New York.
New York: Carleton. 1867, pp.383.]

This volume purports to be the translation of a late French work entitled, "The Papacy Schismatic; or, Rome in her Relations with the Eastern Church--_La Papauté Schismatique; ou Rome dans ses Rapports avec I'Eglise Orientate_." Why the translator or editor has changed the title we know not, unless it has been done to disguise the real character of the work, and induce Catholics to buy it under the impression that it is written by a learned divine of their own communion.

Whether equal liberty has been taken with the text throughout we are unable to say, for we have not had the patience to compare the translation with the original, except in a very few instances; but there is in the whole get up of the English work a lack of honesty and frank dealing. On the title-page we are promised an Introduction by the Protestant Episcopal Bishop of Western New York, but in the book itself we find only the "Editor's Preface" of a few pages. Even this preface lacks frankness, and seems intended to deceive. "The author of this work," writes the editor, "is not a Protestant. He is a French divine reared in the communion of Rome, and devoted to her cause in purpose of heart and life." This gives the impression that the author is still a member, and a devoted member, of the communion of Rome, which is not the case. "But his great learning having led him to conclusions contrary to those of the Jesuits, he fell under the ban;" that is, we suppose, was interdicted. This carries on the same deception, making believe that he was interdicted because he rejected some of the conclusions of the Jesuits, while he remained substantially orthodox and obedient to the church, a thing which could not have happened, unless he had impugned the Catholic faith, the authority, or discipline of the church in communion with the apostolic See of Rome.

We read on: "Proscribed by the papacy, ... he accepts at last the logical consequences of his position, ... receiving the communion in both kinds at the hand of the Greeks in the church of the Russian Embassy at Paris." Why not have said simply: The author of this work was reared in the communion of Rome, but, falling under censure for opinions emitted in his writings, he left that communion, or was cut off from it, and has now been received into the Russian Church, or the communion of the non-united Greeks, and has written this book to prove that the communion, that has received him is not, and the one in which he was reared is, schismatic? That would have told the simple truth; but we forget, the editor is a poet, and accustomed to deal in fiction.

The editor, who has a rare genius for embellishing the truth, tells us that "the biographical notice prefixed to the work ... gives assurance of the author's ability to treat the subject of the papacy with the most intimate knowledge of its practical character." It does no such thing, but, on the contrary, proves that he never was devoted in purpose and life to the communion of Rome, and that even from his boyhood he assumed an attitude of real though covert hostility to the papacy. His first work was a history of the church in France, the plan of which was conceived and formed while he was in the seminary, and that work is hardly less unfavorable to the papacy than the one before us. {464} Its spirit is anti-Roman, anti-papal, full of venom against the popes, and he appears to have carried on his war against the papacy under the guise of Gallicanism, till even his Gallican bishop could tolerate him no longer, and forbade him to say mass.

His biographer gives a fuller insight into his character, perhaps, than he intended. "From a very early age," he says, "his mind seems to have revolted against the wearisome routine" of instruction prescribed for seminarians, "and, in its ardent desire for knowledge and its rapid acquisition, worked out of the prescribed limits ... and read and studied in secret." That is, in plain English, he was impatient of direction in his studies, revolted against making the necessary preparation to read and study with advantage, rejected the prescribed course of studies, and followed his own taste or inclination in broaching questions that he lacked the previous knowledge and mental and spiritual discipline to broach with safety. There are questions in great variety and of great importance which it is very necessary to study, but only in their place, and after that very routine of studies prescribed by the seminary has been successfully pursued. Most of the errors into which men fall arise from the attempt to solve questions without the necessary preparatory knowledge and discipline. The studies and discipline of the college and the seminary may seem to impatient and inexperienced youth wearisome and unnecessary, but they are prescribed by wisdom and experience, and he who has never submitted to them or had their advantage feels the want of them through his whole life, to whatever degree of eminence he may have risen without them. It is a great loss to any one not to have borne the yoke in his youth.

It is clear from M. Guettée's biography that he never studied the papal question as a friend to the papacy, and therefore he is no better able to treat it than if he had been brought up in Anglicanism or in the bosom of the Greek schism. He is not a man who has once firmly believed in the primacy of the Holy See, and by his study and great learning found himself reluctantly forced to reject it; but is one who, having fallen under the papal censure, tries to vindicate himself by proving that the pope who condemned him has no jurisdiction, and never received from God any authority to judge him. He is no unsuspected witness, is no impartial judge, for he judges in his own cause. His condemnation preceded his change of communion.

The editor speaks of the great learning of the author, and says "he writes with science and precision, and with the pen of a man of genius." It may be so, but we have not discovered it. His book we have found very dull, and it has required all the effort we are capable of to read it through. To our understanding it is lacking in both science and precision. It is a book of details which are attached to no principles, and its arguments rest wholly on loose and inaccurate statements or bold assumptions. A work more deficient in real logic, or more glaringly sophistical, it has seldom been our hard fortune to meet with. As for learning, we certainly are not learned ourselves, but the author has told us nothing that we did not know before, and nothing more than may be found in any one of our Catholic treatises on the authority of the see of Peter and the Roman pontiff. All his objections to the papacy worth noticing may be found with their answers in The Primacy of the Apostolic See Vindicated, by the lamented Francis Patrick Kenrick, late archbishop of Baltimore, a work of modest pretensions, but of a real merit difficult to exaggerate.

Though M. Guettée's book is far from bewildering us by its learning or overwhelming us by its logic, we yet find it no easy matter to compress an adequate reply to it within any reasonable compass. {465} It is not a scientific work. The author lays down no principles which he labors to establish and develop, but dwells on details, detached statements, assertions, and criticisms, which cannot be replied to separately without extending the reply some two or three times the length of the work itself, for an objection can be made in far fewer words than it takes to refute it. The author writes without method, and seems never to have dreamed of classifying his proofs, and arranging all he has to say under appropriate heads. Indeed, he has no principles, and he adduces no proofs; he only comments on the proofs of the papacy urged by our theologians, and endeavors to prove that they do not mean what we say they do, or that they may be understood in a different sense. Hence, taking these up one after another, he is constantly saying the same things over and over again, with most tiresome repetition, which require an equally tiresome repetition in reply. Had the author taken the time, if he had the ability, to reduce his objections to order, and to their real value, a few pages would have sufficed both to state and to refute them. As it is, we can only do the best we can within the limited space at our command.

The author professes to write from the point of view of a non-united Greek, who has little quarrel with Rome, save on the single question of the papacy. He concedes in some sense the primacy of Peter, and that the bishop of Rome is the first bishop of the church, nay, that by ecclesiastical right he has the primacy of jurisdiction, though not universal jurisdiction; but denies that the Roman pontiff has the sovereignty of the universal church by _divine right_. He says his study of the subject has brought him to these conclusions:

"1. The bishop of Rome did not for eight centuries possess the authority
of divine right that he has since sought to exercise;

2. The pretension of the bishop of Rome to the sovereignty of divine
right over the whole church was the real cause of the division," or
schism between the East and the West. (P. 31.)

These very propositions in the original, to say nothing of the translation, show great lack of precision in the writer. He would have better expressed his own meaning if he had said: The bishop of Rome did not for eight centuries hold by divine right the authority he has since claimed, and the pretension of the bishop of Rome to the sovereignty of the whole church by divine right has been the real cause of the schism. We shall soon object to this word _sovereignty_, but for the moment let it pass.

These two propositions the author undertakes to prove, and he attempts to prove them by showing or asserting that the proofs which our theologians allege from the Holy Scriptures, the fathers, and the councils, do not prove the primacy claimed by the bishop of Rome. This, if done, would be to the purpose if the question turned on admitting the claims of the Roman pontiff, but by no means when the question turns on rejecting these claims and ousting the pope from his possession. The author must go further. It is not enough to show that our evidences of title are insufficient; he must disprove the title itself, either by proving that no such title ever issued, or that it vests in an adverse claimant. This, as we shall see, he utterly fails to do. He sets up, properly speaking, no adverse claimant, and fails to prove that no such title ever issued.

It suffices us, in reply, to plead possession. The pope is, and long has been, in possession by the acknowledgment of both East and West, and it is for the author to show reasons why he should be ousted, and, if those reasons do not necessarily invalidate his possessions, the pope is not obliged to show his titles. All he need reply is, _Olim possideo_.

That the pope is in possession of all he claims is evident not only from the fact that he has from the earliest times exercised the primacy of jurisdiction claimed for him, but from the council of Florence held in 1439. {466} "We define," say the fathers of the council, "that the holy apostolic see and the Roman pontiff hold the primacy in all the world, and that the Roman pontiff is the successor of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles and true vicar of Christ, and head of the whole church, the father and teacher of all Christians, and that to him is given in blessed Peter, by our Lord Jesus Christ, full power to feed, direct, and govern the universal church; _et ipsi B. Petro pascendi, regendi, et gubernandi plenam potestatem traditam esse._"

This definition was made by the universal church, for it was subscribed by the bishops of both the East and the West, and among the bishops of the East that accepted it were the patriarchs of Constantinople and Alexandria, and the metropolitans of Russia, with those of Nicaea, Trebizond, Lacedaemon, and Mytilene. We know very well that the non-united Greeks reject this council, although the Eastern Church was more fully represented in it than the Western Church was in that at Nicaea, the first of Constantinople, Ephesus, or Chalcedon; but it is for the non united Greeks to prove that, in rejecting it and refusing obedience to its decrees, they are not schismatic. At any rate, the council is sufficient to prove that the pope is in possession by the judgment of both East and West, and to throw the burden of proof on those who deny the papal authority and assert that the papacy is schismatic.

Before producing his proofs, the author examines the Holy Scriptures to ascertain "whether the pretensions of the bishop of Rome to a universal sovereignty of the church have, as is alleged, any ground in the word of God." (P. 31.) The translation here is inexact; it should be: "Whether the pretensions, etc., to _the_ universal sovereignty of the church have, as is alleged, _their_ foundation in the word of God." The author himself would have expressed himself better if he had written "the sovereignty of the universal church," instead of "universal sovereignty of the church." But the author mistakes the real question he has to consider. The real question for him is not whether the primacy we assert for the Roman pontiff has its ground in the written word, but whether anything in the written word denies or contradicts it. The primacy may exist as a fact, and yet no record of it be made in the Scriptures. The constitution of the church is older than any portion of the New Testament, and it is very conceivable that, as the church must know her own constitution, it was not thought necessary to give an account of it in the written word. The church holds the written word, but does not hold from it or under it, but from the direct and immediate appointment of Jesus Christ himself, and is inconceivable without her constitution.

The author makes another mistake, in using the word _sovereignty_ instead of _primacy_. Roman theologians assert the primacy, but not, in the ecclesiastical order, the _sovereignty_ of the Roman pontiff. Sovereignty is a political, not an ecclesiastical term; it is, moreover, exclusive, and it is not pretended that there is no authority in the church by divine right but that of the Roman pontiff. It is not pretended that bishops are simply his vicars or deputies. In feudal times there may have been writers who regarded him as suzerain, but we know of none that held him to be sovereign. He is indeed by some writers, chiefly French, called _sovereign_ pontiff, but only in the sense of _supreme_ pontiff, Pontifex maximus, or summus pontifex, to indicate that he is the highest but not the exclusive authority in the church. The council of Florence, on which we plant ourselves, defines him to be primate, not sovereign, and ascribes to him plenary authority to feed, direct, and govern the whole church, but does not exclude other and subordinate pontiffs, who, though they receive their sees from him, yet within them govern by a divine right no less immediate than his. The real and only sovereign of the church, in the proper sense of the term, is Jesus Christ himself. {467} The pope is his vicar, and as much bound by his law as the humblest Christian. He is not above the law, nor is he its source, but is its chief minister and supreme judge, and his legislative power is restricted to such rescripts, edicts, or canons as he judges necessary to its proper administration. The sovereign makes the law, and the difference, therefore, between the power of the sovereign and that claimed for the Roman pontiff is very obvious and very great. Could the author, then, prove from the written word that the pope or the Holy See is not the universal sovereign of the church, he would prove nothing to his purpose. Yet this, as we shall see, is all he does prove.

The author pretends, p. 32, that the papal authority, sovereignty he means, is condemned by the word of God. The assertion, understanding the papal authority as defined by the council of Florence, is to his purpose, if he proves it. What, then, are his proofs? The Roman theologians, that is, Catholic theologians, say the church is founded on Peter, and cite in proof the words of our Lord, St. Matt. xvi. 18: "I say unto thee that thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." But this does not prove that Peter is the rock on which the church is founded. The church is not founded on Peter, or, if on Peter, in no other sense than it is on him and the other apostles. The rock on which the church is built is Jesus Christ, who is the only foundation of the church. St. Paul says, 1 Cor. iii. 11: "Other foundation can no man lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ himself."

That Jesus Christ is the sole foundation of the church in the primary and absolute sense, nobody denies or questions, and we have asserted it in asserting that he is the real and only sovereign of the church; but this does not exclude Peter from being its foundation in a secondary and vicarial sense, the only sense asserted by the most thorough-going papists, as is evident from what St. Paul writes to the Ephesians, ii. 20, as cited by the author: "You are built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ being himself the chief cornerstone." The principal, primary, absolute foundation is Christ, but the prophets and apostles are also the foundation on which the church, the mystic temple, is built. The author says, same page: "The prophets and apostles form the first layers of this mystic edifice. The faithful are raised on these _foundations_, and form the edifice itself; finally, Jesus Christ is the principal stone, the corner-stone, which gives solidity to the monument." This is very true, and we maintain, as well as he, that there is "no other foundation" in the primary sense, "no other principal corner-stone than Jesus Christ;" but he himself asserts, as does St. Paul, other "foundation" in a secondary sense. So, though our Lord is the principal or first foundation in the sense in which God is the first cause of all creatures and their acts, yet nothing hinders Peter from being a secondary foundation, as creatures may be and are what philosophers terms second causes.

But in this secondary sense, "all the apostles are the foundation, and the church is no more founded on Peter than on the rest of the apostles." Not founded on Peter to the exclusion of the other apostles certainly, but not founded on Peter as the prince of the apostles, or chief of the apostolic college, does not appear, and it is never pretended that Peter excludes the other apostles. Our Lord gave, indeed, to Peter alone the keys of the kingdom of heaven, thereby constituting him his steward or the chief of his household; but he gave to all authority to teach all nations all things whatsoever he had commanded them, the same power of binding and loosing that he had given to Peter, and promised to be with them as well as with him all days to the consummation of the world. There is in this nothing that excludes or denies the primacy claimed for Peter, or that implies that our Lord, as the author says, merely "gave to Peter an important ministry in his church."

{468}

The author labors to refute the argument drawn in favor of the primacy of Peter from the command of our Lord to Peter to "confirm his brethren," and the thrice repeated command to "feed his sheep;" but as we are not now seeking to prove the primacy, but simply repelling the arguments adduced against it, we pass it over. He attempts to construct an argument against the primacy of Peter from the words of our Lord to his disciples, St. Matt, xxiii. 8: "Be ye not called Rabbi; for one is your Master, and all you are brethren. And call none your father on earth; for one is your Father, who is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters; for one is your master, Christ. He that is greatest among you shall be your servant." "Christ, therefore," p. 48, "forbade the apostles to take, in relation to one another, the titles of master, doctor, or even father, or pope, which is the same thing." Why, then, does the author take the title of _Abbé_, which means father, or suffer his editor to give him the title of Doctor of Divinity? His non-united Greek friends also come in for his censure; for they call their simple priests _papas_ or popes, that is, fathers; nay, if he construes the words of our Lord strictly, he must deny all ecclesiastical authority, and, indeed, all human government, and even forbid the son to call his sire father. This would prove a little too much for him as well as for us.