Chapter X: Front Matter (10)

But the interior workings of the church, her doctrines, her moral teaching, are also being presented to them more clearly. In the common walks of life, in the parlor, in the street, in the halls of business, our Protestant brethren meet many who are able to give a reason for the faith that is in them, and whose lives they know. Sincere seekers for truth and souls in earnest about their salvation, hearing of the claims of Catholicity and seeing many whose religious character they have every reason to admire, will ask questions, and Americans (we say it not to their reproach) will ask questions, if it be only for curiosity's sake. Catholic books, magazines, newspapers, pamphlets, speeches, sermons, and other modes of diffusing a knowledge of Catholic faith and practice find many readers and hearers among Protestants who cannot fail to be impressed by them, who will be divested of their old prejudices, and learn our religion not as it has been taught to them by her enemies, but as she is. It would be of no use to tell an intelligent American Protestant now that Catholics are poor, ignorant idolaters who worship images, and who never heard of the Bible, because they know better; and if you told him, as you might have done twenty years ago and be believed, that the pope and the priests had secret designs against the liberties of this country, he would laugh in your face. Books with pictures representing the pope with his tiara on, holding up his hands in horror and turning away his face from an open Bible which a Protestant minister presents to his gaze, while the lightnings from heaven are depicted in the background descending in wrath upon St. Peter's, may possibly be found upon the table of some ignorant backwoodsman, but an intelligent Protestant would blush to know that such a book was under his roof.

People are great travellers nowadays, too, and they see enough in Catholic countries to make them at least think well of their religion.

They go to Rome, perhaps have an interview with the venerable head of the church, and invariably return penetrated with sentiments of profound respect, and often of the most attached affection for him.

They go to heathen countries, they see there the work of Catholic apostles. They find the only Christians there are Catholics, living such perfect lives as might put Christians of more enlightened nations to shame. In every corner of the world they find the Catholic Church doing her appointed work for the regeneration, civilization, and salvation of men, and numbers of them are not slow to draw the conclusion, "Truly this is the living church of the living God the pillar and ground of truth."

Let us look at the second reason we suggested, namely, the rapid increase of the church, and the character of it.

In the year 1800 we had only 1 bishop, 100 priests, and about 50,000 Catholics. Now we have 43 bishops, 2235 priests, and at least 5,000,000 Catholics. That this number is made up principally by immigration is true; but we do not forget that they bring the true faith in Jesus Christ with them, that the truth is spreading by their example and influence, and the American people cannot fail to feel the effects of it. {136} If all these immigrants were infidels, Mohammedans, or Mormons, they would naturally affect the religious character of the people amongst whom they are living. How much more may we look for mighty results from the true religion and the grace of God!

Catholicity is leavening the whole mass. Go where you will, you will find a Catholic in almost every family of note in the country. "Oh! I respect the Catholic religion very much," some one will say to you. "I have a father or mother, a sister or brother, an aunt or a cousin, who is a very good and very strict Catholic." From the very families of American Protestant bishops and ministers the church draws to herself one or another of the members, from whom new American Catholic families spring up, to give the church standing and influence in society, and compel a respectful hearing and a respectful treatment.

These considerations, encouraging as they are, might still lead us to suppose that it will be yet a long while before America shall be called, as she undoubtedly will be, one of the brightest jewels in the crown of the holy church, were it not for the third thought we have presented, which is, that their faith and trust in the sapless, separated branch of a church is failing. They have planted it anew, have watered it, have nursed it with every care, at boundless expense, with sincere heart's devotion, but all to no purpose. It will not grow, but withers in their hands. Now and then some have thought that the branch was too much like the old tree, and they cut off a twig, a blossom, or plucked a fruit from it, and planted that, and, with many earnest prayers and unceasing labors, they hoped their little plant would spring into life, but its untimely decay has disappointed them and disgusted them. Anon they endeavored to graft their withering branch on an older and apparently more healthy stock, such as the former and late attempts of the Episcopalians to form a union with the schismatical Greek Church; but the graft will not take, though they are willing to tie it on with every appliance and prune it after every fashion. Again, a few who style themselves Anglo-Catholics and high churchmen try to reason themselves into a belief that their particular little twig of the branch must be the true tree, because it is so much like in size and shape to the young sapling which the apostles first planted in the earth.

Slowly, however, they are beginning to ask themselves the question which they should have asked in the beginning, "How shall it grow without a root?" Those who take the trouble to examine the matter at bottom find out that the branch they cherish has no root, and now they lose all respect for it. These divide into two parties. Those who are sincere-minded souls, looking for true Christianity, and resting their eternal hopes upon it, seek for the living Christian tree, and find sweet repose beneath its grateful shade, and true nourishment of their souls from its never-failing fruit. Others, who are less sincere, cast aside the dead branch and all their faith in Christ with it, become discouraged and disgusted, and fall away into indifferentism and infidelity.

This loss of the old traditional reverence for Christianity, which a few years back was so strong that men felt it was something to be ashamed of, and to need apology, when forced to say, "I am no Christian," is now so marked that it is deplored on all sides. {137} References are not unfrequently made in the columns of our daily journals indicative of the popular temper, which hold up celebrated preachers, and with them often the whole clerical profession, to ridicule and contempt. Still the mass of the people of our country are both sincere and religious-minded, and the character of the conversions that are daily taking place is such as to make us not only hopeful, but sure of the final result. Surely, it is not to be said that the Catholic Church shall prove herself less powerful in a country of nominal Christians than she has shown herself to be in any or all the pagan nations whom she has not only converted, but also civilized and enlightened. Very few Protestants nowadays are compelled to unlearn their supposed Christianity to become Catholics. The false element which Calvinism introduced at the Reformation is being gradually eliminated from their systems, and all that they really adhere to is a part of Catholic truth. Many converts express themselves surprised to find that to enter the church they are called upon to renounce nothing whatever of what they already hold. They find, to their delight, that the faith as taught by the church is the completion, the realization, and also the explanation of their religious opinions.

The conversion of our beloved land is a work that should engage our most ardent aspirations, and kindle all the zeal of which we are capable. Both our hearts and our heads should be in it. We feel like preaching a little on this subject. That we may help it and hasten it by many things there is no doubt; by constant and earnest prayer, by good example, by instruction, by the distribution of good books and tracts, and such means; but it seems to us that when any one is deeply impressed with a conviction that a desired end will be accomplished, that it ought to be, and, as far as in one lies, it shall be, then the end is not far off. Aside from other things, there is in this matter a wide field for the exercise of our theological virtues.

Our faith: an unwavering faith in the power of truth, which must prevail. It is God's work; it is what the church is called upon to do; the people are fast progressing toward it; the good expect it, the wicked fear it; God's grace is never wanting to aid all men in their search after, and their acceptance of, the truth, and what, then, can hinder it? The question put to us a few years since, with a smile of mixed incredulity and pity, "Do _you_ believe that this country will ever become Catholic?" is now, "How soon do you think it will come to pass?" "Soon, very soon," we reply, if your own statistics be true; for we see by one of your late writers that the rate of growth of the Catholic religion has been _seventy-five_ per cent greater than the ratio of increase of population, while the rate of the decrease of Protestantism is _eleven_ per cent less.

Our hope: We must have large hope in this, as in all things else, to bring about speedily what we desire: such an enthusiastic hope as makes us see the end already. It will, moreover, encourage them to do what we wish. Tell a sinner that you give him up and have no hopes of him, and you give him a fatal encouragement to go on in his wickedness. Your want of hope takes hope out of him; but, on the contrary, tell him cheerfully that you look for his conversion and amendment as a matter of course, and he will conclude at once that he ought to convert himself, and will begin to wish himself converted. {138} Then show him a picture of the happiness and peace of a good life, the joy of the forgiven sinner; his mind is made up, and the grace of God will do the rest. So it will be with our Protestant brethren. Let them feel that we are sure of their conversion to Catholicity, that we look for it as a certain event, and they will begin to think it very possible, and ask what it is to be a Catholic. Present them a picture of that unspeakable peace which one obtains in a sure and certain faith; tell them of the blessings in store for them, show them the treasures of God's house, and give them to understand that they are meant expressly for them, and that we are certain they will enjoy them; then it will be strange, indeed, if, with the truth before them, and the grace of God aiding and encouraging them, they should turn away and reject their own happiness. For the greater part of sincere Protestants there is absolutely nothing to keep them out of the church but the old worn-out prejudices they have against her. We know that it is thought that they have an insuperable fear and distrust of some of our practices--the confessional, for instance; but our experience convinces us that they find no difficulty in overcoming their fears as soon as they firmly believe in its necessity, and perceive its consoling and sanctifying influence upon the individual soul and upon society at large. Besides, this opinion is, in fact, groundless. As a good old French Jesuit father said to us one day: "I have noticed that when Americans have made up their mind to do anything, they never ask if it be difficult."

Our charity: Souls are won by love. We do not, and cannot, love the Protestant religion. It has little that is lovable in it; and besides, our own holy faith, all beautiful and good as it is, absorbs all the love our hearts can possibly hold. But could our Protestant brethren know how we Catholics love them--how we yearn over them as a mother yearns over her wayward child--how we long to welcome them home again; could they see how the "charity of Jesus Christ presseth us" to labor and pray for them; could they overhear us conversing with one another about them and learn our wishes and plans, our hopes and our wonderings at their continued absence, then we would win their souls. They could not stand all that. The power of divine charity would draw them sweetly on. Then they would ask themselves, What motive can these Catholics have to wish us so fervently to become as they are? Would that they might all be brought to ask that question!

When we, who stand upon the firm rock, see them stumbling over the bogs and marshes of a groundless and unstable faith, there is a strong temptation to laugh at their bewilderment, and mock at them as they go leaping about from one little hillock of opinion to another, and at last fall, sprawling, into the mire of religious doubt. Better pity them. Human nature, you know, has _such_ a tendency to follow will-o'-the-wisps, even if it be only for the purpose of scientific investigation!

Whatever truth they have, after all, is Catholic truth. Their piety, their love of religion, their hatred of sin, their fear of hell and hopes of heaven, are all the results of the teachings of Jesus Christ, in whom they believe as far as they know, and through whom, in some vague sense, they hope for salvation. {139} They have been led away from the true fold, and are wandering sheep, who are getting further and further each day out of hearing of the voice of the true Shepherd. But the time is not far distant when they will return. God's hand is stretched out over this people. His Holy Spirit is moving their hearts, and the signs of the day of peace and unity of faith are already appearing.

Preachers usually begin with a text; we take the liberty of ending with one, very _à propos_, we think, to the subject of our thoughts: "I will call them my people, that were not my people: and her beloved, that was not beloved: and her, that had not obtained mercy, one that hath obtained mercy. And it shall be, in the place where it was said to them: you are not my people: there they shall be called the children of the living God."

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New Publications.

The Clergy And The Pulpit In Their Relations To The People.
By M. l'Abbé Mullois, chaplain to the Emperor
Napoleon III. and Missionary Apostolic.
Translated by George Percy Badger.
First American edition.
12mo, pp. 308. New York: The Catholic
Publication Society, 126 Nassau Street. 1867.

This work of the learned and pious Abbé Mullois has attained an immense popularity in France, where it was issued a few years ago under the title of _Cours d'Eloquence Sacrée Populaire; ou, Essai sur la Manière de parler au Peuple._ It is the first of a series of essays which appeared subsequently, designed as hints to the clergy in their pastoral ministrations, especially in the pulpit.

It is one of the most noticeable books that have been issued by the Catholic press, and cannot fail of receiving as cordial a welcome with us as it has already received in France. Its remarkable characteristic is the apostolic simplicity of its style, and its bold, manly tone. The author's principal object is to direct the attention of the clergy to the necessity of cultivating a popular style of eloquence in their discourses and instructions to the masses. But, in order that the sermon be popular, and reach the hearts of the people, the preacher must himself be popular. He must be a man loved by the people, engaging both their admiration and reverence by his manner and his language when addressing them, and above all, by loving them. Hence, the author wisely treats of the preacher before he treats of the sermon. The first chapter is devoted to the elucidation of his great maxim: "To address men well, they must be loved much." Have many rules of eloquence if you will, but do not forget the first and most essential one: Love the people whom you would instruct, convert, reprove, sanctify, and lead to God. "The end of preaching is to reclaim the hearts of men to God, and nothing but love can find out the mysterious avenues which lead to the heart. We are always eloquent when we wish to save one whom we love; we are always listened to when we are loved. ... If, then, you do not feel a fervent love and profound pity for humanity--if, in beholding its miseries and errors, you do not experience the throbbings, the holy thrillings of charity, be assured that the gift of Christian eloquence has been denied you," which is the good abbé's polite way (so truly French) of saying, "Don't preach."

{140}

He is not above indulging in a little bit of humor now and then when he wishes to say something a little severe, so as to take off the edge: "Just look at the young priest on his entrance upon the sacred ministry. He is armed cap-a-pie with arguments; he speaks only by syllogisms. His discourse bristles with _now, therefore, consequently_. He is dogmatic, peremptory. One might fancy him a nephew of one of those old bearded doctors of the middle ages, such as Petit Jean or Courte-Cuisse. He is disposed to transfix by his words every opponent, and give quarter to none. He thrusts, cuts, overturns relentlessly. My friend, lay aside a part of your heavy artillery. Take your young man's, your young priest's heart, and place it in the van before your audience, and after that you may resort to your batteries, if they are needed. Make yourself beloved--be a father. Preach affectionately, and your speech, instead of gliding over hearts hardened by pride, will pierce _even to the dividing of the joints and marrow_; and then that may come to be remarked of you which was said of another priest by a man of genius who had recently been reclaimed to a Christian life: 'I almost regret my restoration, so much would it have gratified me to have been converted by so affectionate a preacher.' ... Apostolical eloquence is no longer well understood. It is now made to consist of I hardly know what; the utterance of truths without any order, in a happy-go-lucky fashion, extravagant self-excitement, bawling, and thumping on the pulpit. There is a tendency in this respect to follow the injunctions of an old divine of the sixteenth century to a young bachelor of arts. '_Percute cathedram fortiter; respice Crucifixum torvis oculis; nil dic ad propositum, et bene praedicabis._'"

It is certainly a great mistake, although a common one, that what is called popular preaching is relished only by the poor and illiterate, and, indeed, is only fit for them. The author's sentiments on this subject are so just and well timed that we venture to give them in the following extracts from the preface of his second volume.

"True popular preaching is not that which is addressed
exclusively to the lower orders; but that which is addressed to
all, and is understood by all. Such is the import of the word
_popular_. When a man is said to be popular, it implies
that he meets with sympathy on all sides; from among the upper,
the lower, and the middle classes of society. When we say,
charity is popular, we mean that it finds an echo in the
breasts of all. The Gospel is essentially popular; hence
Christian eloquence also should be popular at all times and in
all places; as well in large cities as in small towns and
country districts: unless an exceptional audience is addressed,
and there is only one such in France, namely, that of
Notre-Dame at Paris.

"This is what a sermon ought to be: A learned academician
listening to it on one side, and a poor illiterate woman on the
other, both should derive therefrom something to enlighten
their minds and improve their hearts.

"We, the clergy, are debtors to all. How can we denounce
injustice from the pulpit if we exhibit an example of it in our
own persons? This is a matter involving a sacred trust, which
has not met with adequate consideration; for how can we preach
charity when we deprive the poor of that which is their
due--the bread of knowledge? We should deem it an atrocity to
retain the alms given to us for the needy; and does not our
faith tell us that it would be a still greater crime to
withhold from them the saving truths of the Gospel? ... It is
one of the great glories, one of the great powers of the
ordinance of preaching, that the word preached should embrace
all without any exception; and we are sadly to blame for having
renounced that vantage-ground. Hence it is that our sermons
nowadays are dry, meagre, artificial, inefficacious, and no
longer exhibit that fulness and life, that broad effusion of
thought, those throbbings of the heart and thrilling accents of
the soul, which bespeak a double origin; indicating that what
we utter is at once the voice of God and the voice of the
people.

"I am going to speak without any reserve. Painful as the
subject may be, it is desirable that the clergy should be made
thoroughly aware of it. Go where you will in France, you meet
with numbers of excellent and eminently intelligent men who
say: 'I really cannot account for it; but I can no longer bear
listening to sermons, for they weary me dreadfully. The
phraseology generally used is humdrum and threadbare, and the
matter consists of an incoherent mixture of rhetoric and
philosophy, art and mysticism, of which nobody understands any
thing.
{141}
Then, again, their monotonous uniformity throughout is enough
to send even those into a doze who have lost the habit of
sleeping. I sincerely believe that I should do better by
abstaining; but for the sake of example, I resign myself to
enduring them.' And be it remembered, that these are the
remarks, not of the ill-disposed, but of devoutly religious
men; proving the necessity of some large reform, since it would
be idle to suppose that such concurrent testimony from all
parts of France is unfounded. The same men, be it remarked,
after listening to a genial, diversified, popular, and sterling
discourse, will readily exclaim: 'That's the thing that I want!
That's what does me good! That's what I like!'

"We must revert, therefore, to the genuine style of evangelical
preaching, which is that of a father addressing his numerous
family, and who wishes to be understood by all his children
from the eldest to the youngest.

"But we must not be deluded into thinking that such popular
preaching is easy: on the contrary, it is very difficult of
attainment; for it involves no less a task than that of
speaking a language which shall be level to the comprehension
of the masses, and at the same time adapted to educated minds.
Would you master that task? Study much, study every thing:
theology, literature, the Holy Scriptures, more especially the
Gospel; acquire a deep insight into the human heart; and,
withal, cultivate your own mind till it can digest all
knowledge. Then write and speak like one who has really drawn
what he utters out of the good treasures of the heart, and in
such a way that all who hear you may be ready to say: 'Really,
what he states is very simple; it is sound sense; it is right.
It is just what I would have said myself under similar
circumstances.' Let us recall what has already been remarked
elsewhere--that a little study withdraws us from the natural,
whereas much study leads us to it. Reveal your heart, your
soul; for, after all, the soul of man, that masterpiece of
God's hand, will always carry more weight than all the
embellishments of philosophy or rhetoric."

Let this zealous author speak of what he will, he invariably comes back to his first principle: "Love the people, if you would have any influence with them for good." Each chapter reveals the fact that this thought is the one which is uppermost in the writer's mind, and, therefore, the one he desires to impress the more deeply upon the minds of his readers. He knows how to tell plain, homely truths without offence, and criticise severely the faults of his brethren without acerbity or presumption.

It is a book that will do good, a great deal of good, and we commend it most heartily to all our readers, who will assuredly derive much pleasure and no little profit from its perusal.

The translation has been made by a finished scholar, and leaves nothing to be desired for purity of style or fidelity to the original. The volume is published in a finished and elegant style.

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Essays On Religion And Literature.
By Various Writers.
Edited by Archbishop Manning.
Second Series. London: Longmans, Green & Co.
New York: For sale by The Catholic Publication Society.

The titles of these essays and the names of their authors will give our readers a good idea of the character and value of this volume:

_Inaugural Address, Session_ 1866-7,
the Most Rev. Archbishop Manning, D.D.;

_On Intellectual Power and Man's Perfection--Dangers of
Uncontrolled Intellect_, W. G. Ward, Ph.D.;

_On the Mission and Prospects of the Catholic Church in
England_, F. Oakley, M.A.;

_Christianity in Relation to Civil Society_, Edward Lucas;

_On the Philosophy of Christianity_,
Albany J. Christie, M.A., S J.;

_On some Events Preparatory to the English Reformation_,
H. W. Wilberforce, M.A.;

_On the Inspiration of Scripture_,
Most Rev. Archbishop Manning, D.D.;

_Church and State_, Edmund Sheridan Purcell;

_Certain Sacrificial Words used by Saint Paul_,
Monsignor Patterson, M.A.

It is impossible for us to enter here into an extended review of all these very remarkable essays. They were read at different meetings of the English Catholic Academia, founded six years ago by the present Archbishop of Westminster, and which has for its object, as the same illustrious prelate and scholar informs us in his present inaugural address, "the maintenance and defence of the Catholic religion, both positively and in its relation to all other truth, and polemically as against all forms of erroneous doctrines, principles, and thought." {142} This first address is a short but comprehensive sketch of the state of religion in England, in which the present condition and prospects of the faith are contrasted chiefly with what they were thirty years ago.

The second and third papers are designed to uphold the following thesis: The perfection of man consists exclusively in the perfection of his moral and spiritual nature, intellectual excellence forming no part of it whatever. We cannot help but think the author has taken a great deal of trouble to prove a truism; for his definition of _perfection_ is closely restricted to moral and spiritual perfection. We do not imagine that the antagonists he summons up from the ranks of "muscular Christianity," and from the present atheistical school in England, would contend that pure intellect, in the sense used by the author, would afford more than a subordinate service to man's spiritual welfare, such as he himself proves in a second proposition. The greater part, if not the whole, of these antagonists to Catholic asceticism know nothing of what they are discussing. They suppose, and falsely so, that the Catholic Church teaches that the soul advances in spiritual perfection precisely at the expense of intellectual excellence; that the saint becomes the more holy as he becomes the more stupid; that the cultivation of the reasoning power is not only useless but a positive hindrance to spiritual perfection. It is not surprising that our opponents make the most of intellectual acquirements, of physical health and strength, and exalt the animal above the spiritual, because they deny _in toto_ the moral state of man as Catholic theology, both moral and ascetic, supposes it to be. They contend that there is nothing wanting in man's moral nature, any more than in his purely intellectual nature. Both are weak, it is true, and should be strengthened and perfected, but the results of moral weakness, which we call sin and imperfection, are to be regarded in the same light as one would the results of ignorance in science. Sin is simply a mistake, culpable to the same degree as a false deduction in physics or mathematics would be for want of better information and scientific knowledge. Hence, it is easy to see how these philosophers neither value nor in fact comprehend the exercises of the spiritual life, and look upon all self-abnegation and mortification of the senses as degrading. "Purification of the soul" would be nonsense, because the soul does not need purification. It needs only advancement, enlightenment, and nurture, both in its spiritual and intellectual part. That a man should apply himself to the perfection of his spiritual nature without equal care to advance in worldly science, and keep his muscles well developed, his stomach full, and his body fashionably and comfortably clothed, is something which the worldly wise cannot understand. How should they when they rate the spiritual no higher than, if not below, the intellectual? Human greatness with them consists in physical and intellectual power; and they think the world is far more benefited by a regiment of soldiers and a board of trade than by a community of monks and an association of prayer.

But too much care cannot be taken when we attempt to argue for the thesis proposed in this essay. There is danger of giving our adversaries an impression that we are contending for the very things of which they accuse us. The intellect is not something evil which is to be crushed, else we should not look for a saint in a Chrysostom, an Augustine, a Thomas of Aquinas, a Bonaventura, or among those thousands of men and women of great genius and surpassing intellectual power, whose works are the glory of the world as they are of religion.

But one of the exercises of asceticism, say our opponents, is to mortify the intellect. Yes, just as I mortify my sight by restraining it from resting upon vain or immoral objects, my appetite from too full an indulgence, my love for music from dangerous display or vain gratification, or, what is at least as good a reason, because I really have not the time to give my intellect, my appetite, my love of the beautiful in art, poetry, and music all that they demand. {143} I have a far higher object in life, and that is, to make my soul pure and agreeable to God. These other and inferior objects are worthy in themselves of attention, but as for me I am too busy to spend either much thought or time upon them.

Those good people whose God is their belly, or whose highest aspiration in life is to see their name on the title-page of a book, doubt either the sanity or the sincerity of one who says that he loves to think about God a great deal better than he does about what he is going to have for dinner, and chooses rather to make a meditation than to read the morning newspaper. Such an one is perhaps just as hungry as another for both animal and mental food, but he puts away that anxious thought about dinner, he declines the invitation to hear Parepa, and smashes his violin, or consigns his mathematics to oblivion, because it happens that some or all of these things are found to have a tendency to take away his thoughts from God; and as to voluntary suffering, my philosopher, I am sure that it cost one of these "degraded ascetics" more pain to smash his violin than all the disciplines he ever took in his life. What need was there to smash it? Because it stood in his way, and because sacrifice is the sweetest and most nourishing food the soul can feed upon. And the same for his vanity, too, you say. Possibly. But do you acknowledge that there is such a thing as vainglory, which may arise in the heart and degrade it, thus placing a hindrance to its perfection? I know you do, for you are constantly accusing the Catholic saints of it. Well, then you must allow that mortification of such a tendency is necessary for man's perfection; and having once granted the necessity of mortification for one thing, you have given up the question. Let us hear no more of "degrading asceticism," or of the "unmanliness and superstition of bodily austerities."

The fault of this essay consists in the fact that the writer says he uses the word "intellect" in its popular sense, while his argument supposes it to be taken in its abstract, philosophical sense. In relation to the question at issue, the popular sense is not the philosophical one. The question of human perfection, as put by the enemies of the church and the railers at her ascetic principles and practices, is: Does not the Catholic Church teach that man perfects himself alone in the spiritual order, and that all human science is but vanity and vexation of spirit, and, therefore, better left aside? And is not this as a consequence a "degrading" standard to set before humanity, and one which tends to superstition, ignorance, mean-spiritedness, as well as criminal neglect of health and personal cleanliness? Is not intellectual ability a talent, and was not the servant of the gospel condemned for returning his to his lord unimproved? This question the writer of the present essay does not meet, as we had hoped he would. For ourselves, we judge, as the writer acknowledges in his second essay, if we read him aright, that there is such a thing as intellectual perfection, artistical, mechanical, and even muscular perfection, each in their own order, but inferior in character, aim, and end to the perfection of the spiritual nature, which latter perfection it is not only lawful but obligatory to cultivate, even at the expense of either of the former.

To advance in spiritual perfection is the first and highest duty of man. "Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice." If one can advance in any other perfection at the same time without detriment to the first, all well and good. There is no danger that the devil's Advocate will object to his canonization on the score of his great intellectual superiority, his wonderful mechanical genius, or the firmness and beautiful development of his muscles. But let any of these things prove detrimental to his spiritual perfection, as they without doubt frequently do, then he must shut up his books or smash his violin, as the case may be.

The essay by Mr. Wilberforce, _On some Events Preparatory to the English Reformation_, will be found an exceedingly interesting paper. That _On the Inspiration of Scripture_, by Archbishop Manning, presents a concise view of the teaching of the church, and the different opinions of Protestant and Catholic theologians on that subject. All the essays are, in fact, literary productions of a high order, and merit the perusal of every scholar of English Catholic literature.

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Lacordaire's Letters To Young Men.
Edited by the Count de Montalembert.
Translated by the Rev. James Trenor.
Baltimore: Kelly & Piet. 1867.

This volume is composed of letters written to his young friends whilst the author was engaged in the most arduous and responsible duties. They are not studied productions of the great Dominican's literary genius, but rather simple outpourings of paternal love and solicitude toward those young men for whose spiritual direction he was at once so wise a guide, so zealous a pastor, and so warm a friend. They reveal the wealth of affection which enriched his own heart, and the consecration of that affection to the highest and noblest purpose of life--the perfection and salvation of souls. These letters have been published that other young men may also listen to his wise counsels, and receive that direction and encouragement which the writer was so eminently qualified to bestow.

Those which refer to the painful steps that fidelity to the truth and loyalty to the church led him to take in reference to M. de la Mennais will be found exceedingly interesting. There is no book that we could wish to see more extensively circulated among and read by the young men of our day than this collection of letters. The perusal of them will do much toward strengthening that bond of holy friendship and mutual confidence which exists between youth and the priesthood, so truly beneficial to the one and full of consolation to the other.

--------

Extracts From The Fathers And Church Historians.
W. B. Kelly,
8 Grafton Street, Dublin.
For sale by the Catholic Publication Society,
126 Nassau Street, New-York.

This volume contains choice selections from the fathers, faithfully translated into English.

---------

Modern History; from the coming of Christ and change of the
Roman Republic into an Empire, to the year of our Lord 1867,
with questions for the use of schools.
By Peter Fredet, D.D.
22d edition, revised, etc.
1 vol. 12mo, pp. 566 and 38.
Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1867.

A Compendium Of Ancient And Modern History--with questions,
adapted to the use of schools, with an appendix, etc.--from the
Creation to the year 1867.
By M. J. Kerney, A.M.
1 vol. 12mo, pp. 431.
Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1867.

These works are excellent epitomes of history, and are very popular in the Catholic schools of the United States and the Canadas. The first of them, Fredet's History, is a useful volume, and gives the reader a clear and correct idea of modern history, especially if he has not time to read the more voluminous histories of the various countries of the world. The present edition of both these volumes is brought down to the year 1867, and the account of our late terrible war is written with candor and without bias, the bare facts and dates of battles being given. They are gotten up in good, serviceable style for schools.

---------

The Bohemians Of The Fifteenth Century.
Translated from the French of Henri Guenot,
by Mrs. J. Sadlier. New-York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.

This is a very correct translation of a beautiful little tale by M. Guenot, illustrating the peculiar habits and manner of living of that strange people, generally called Gipsies, who appeared in Europe about the time selected by the author for his illustration. The story is well told in the original, with an attention to time and place characteristic of the best French writers of fiction, and in the English version before us it loses nothing in accuracy or even in vivacity of style. It is an excellent book for young readers, and will doubtless find a large circulation among that class.

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

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The Catholic World.

Vol. VI., No. 32. November, 1867.

Unpublished Letters Of General Washington.

Two years ago, Count Henri de Chastellux gave to the world, through the pages of _Le Correspondent_ of Paris, a translation of thirteen letters of Washington's never before printed. They were addressed to the Marquis de Chastellux, that gallant and accomplished French nobleman who fought with the patriot army during our revolutionary war, serving as major-general under Rochambeau, and of whose subsequent travels in America we gave some account in an early number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD. Washington seems to have entertained a sincere regard for this distinguished soldier and man of letters, who, besides being in complete harmony with the founder of the American republic in his views of philosophy and politics, was a gentleman of most amiable private character, agreeable manners, and extensive information. After his return to France he kept up a correspondence with Washington as long as he lived, the last letter in the present collection bearing date only six months before the marquis's death. Although it cannot be said that Washington's letters reveal any facts of importance not already known, they are not devoid of historical interest, apart from the value which all confidential communications from his pen must possess in the eyes of patriotic Americans. We are indebted to the efforts of the Abbé Cazali in procuring copies of the original from the Count Henri de Chastellux, who was kind enough to copy them himself. To both of these gentlemen we return our most sincere thanks. The first is dated at New-Windsor, January 28th, 1781. Count de Chastellux had just arrived at Newport, where the French army was then quartered.

I.

My Dear Sir: I congratulate you on your safe arrival in good
health at Newport, after travelling through so large an extent
of the theatre of war in America. Receive my thanks for your
courtesy in informing me of the same, and also for making me
acquainted with the Comte de Charlus. His prepossessing
appearance is a sufficient indication of the amiable qualities
of his mind, and fails not to produce at first view a favorable
impression upon all who see him.

{146}

After spending several days with us at headquarters, he has
gone to Philadelphia, accompanied by Count Dillon.

I left them at Ringwood, whither I went to repress a partial
revolt at Pompton among the New-Jersey troops, who, after the
example of those of Pennsylvania, mutinied and refused to obey
their officers. The affair happily ended without bloodshed. Two
of the ringleaders were executed on the spot, and order had
been completely restored before I left.

I am at a loss for words to express my appreciation of your
approval and friendship, and the value I attach to them. It
shall be the desire and happiness of my life to merit their
continuance, and to assure you on every occasion of my
admiration for your character and virtues. I am, dear sir, your
most obedient servant,

G. Washington.

II.

New Windsor, May 7, 1781.

Dear Sir: Permit me, on this occasion of writing to you, to
begin my letter with congratulations on your recovered health,
and I offer them sincerely.

Colonel Menoville put into my hands two days since your favor
of the 29th ultimo. If my inclination was seconded by the
means, I should not fail to meet this gentleman as the friend
of my friend; and if it is not in my power to comply with his
wishes on the score of provisions, I will deal with him
candidly by communicating the causes.

I am impressed with too high a sense of the abilities and
candor of the Chevalier Chastellux to conceive that he is
capable of creating false hopes. His communication, therefore,
of the West Indies intelligence comes with merited force, and I
would to God it were in my power to take the proper advantage
of it! But if you can recollect a private conversation which I
had with you in the Count de Rochambeau's chamber, you will be
persuaded it is not; especially when I add, that the want of
which I then complained exists in much greater force than it
did at that moment; but such preparations as can be made, I
will make for the events you allude to. The candid world and
well-informed officer will expect no more.

May you participate in those blessings you have invoked hereon
for me, and may you live to see a happy termination of a
struggle which was begun, and has been continued, for the
purpose of rescuing America from impending slavery, and
securing to its inhabitants their indubitable rights, in which
you bear a conspicuous part, is the ardent wish of, dear sir,
your most obedient and most affectionate servant,
G. Washington.

III.

New Windsor, June 13, 1781.

My Dear Chevalier: I fear, from the purport of the letter you
did me the honor to write from Newport on the 9th, that my
sentiments respecting the council of war held on board the
_Duke de Bourgogne_, (the 31st of May,) have been
misconceived, and I shall be very unhappy if they receive an
interpretation different from the true intent and meaning of
them. If this is the case, it can only be attributed to my not
understanding the business of the Duke de Lauzun perfectly. I
will rely, therefore, on your goodness and candor to explain
and rectify the mistake, if any has happened.

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My wishes perfectly coincided with the determination of the
board of war to continue the fleet at Rhode Island, provided it
could remain there in safety with the force required, and did
not impede the march of the army toward the North river; but,
when Duke Lauzun informed me that my opinion of the propriety
and safety of this measure was required by the board, and that
he came hither at the particular request of the Counts
Rochambeau and de Barras to obtain it, I was reduced to the
painful necessity of delivering a sentiment different from that
of a most respectable board, or of forfeiting all pretensions
to candor by the concealment of it.

Upon this ground it was I wrote to the generals to the effect I
did, and not because I was dissatisfied at the alteration of
the plan agreed to at Wethersfield. My fears for the safety of
the fleet, which I am now persuaded were carried too far, were
productive of a belief that the generals, when separated, might
feel uneasy at every mysterious preparation of the enemy, and
occasion a fresh call for militia. This had some weight in my
determination to give Boston (where I was sure no danger could
be encountered but that of a blockade) a preference to Newport,
where, under some circumstances, though not such as were likely
to happen, something might be enterprised.

The fleet being at Rhode Island is attended certainly with many
advantages in the operation proposed, and I entreat that you,
and the gentlemen who were of opinion that it ought to be
risked there for these purposes, will be assured that I have a
high sense of the obligation you mean to confer on America by
that resolve, and that your zeal to promote the common cause,
and my anxiety for the safety of so valuable a fleet, were the
only motives which gave birth to the apparent difference in our
opinions.

I set that value upon your friendship and candor, and have that
implicit belief in your attachment to America, that they are
only to be equalled by the sincerity with which I have the
honor to be, dear sir, your most obedient, and obliged, and
faithful servant,

G. Washington.

IV.

Philadelphia, January 4, 1782.

My Dear Chevalier: I cannot suffer your old acquaintance, Mrs.
Carter, to proceed to Williamsburg without taking with her a
remembrance of my friendship for you.

I have been detained here by Congress to assist in making the
necessary arrangements for next campaign, and am happy to find
so favorable a disposition in that body to prepare vigorously
for it. They have resolved to keep up the same number of
regiments as constituted the army of last year, and have called
upon the States in a pressing manner to complete them.
Requisitions of money are also made; but how far the abilities
and inclinations of the States individually will coincide with
the demands is more than I am able, at this early period, to
inform you. A further pecuniary aid from your generous nation,
and a decisive naval force upon this coast in the latter end of
May or beginning of June, unlimited in its stay and operations,
would, unless the resources of Great Britain are inexhaustible,
or she can form powerful alliances, bid fair to finish the war
in the course of next campaign, (if she mean to prosecute it,)
with the ruin of that people.

The first, that is, an aid of money, would enable our financier
to support the expenses of the war with ease and credit,
without anticipating a change in those funds which Congress are
endeavoring to establish, and which will be productive in the
operation.

{148}

The second, a naval superiority, would compel the enemy to draw
their whole force to a point, which would not only be a
disgrace to their arms by the relinquishment of posts, and the
States which they affect to have conquered, but might
eventually be fatal to their army, or, by attempting to hold
these, be cut off in detail. So that in either case the most
important good consequences would result from the measure.

As you will have received in a more direct channel than from me
the news of the surprise and recapture of St. Eustatia by the
arms of France, I shall only congratulate you on the event, and
add that it marks, in a striking point of view, the genius of
the Marquis de Bouillé for enterprise, and for intrepidity and
resources in difficult circumstances. His conduct upon this
occasion does him infinite honor.

Amid the numerous friends who would rejoice to see you at this
place, none (while I stay here) could give you a more sincere
and cordial welcome than I should. Shall I entreat you to
present me to the circle of your friends in the army around
you, with all that warmth and attachment I am sensible of, and
to believe that with sentiments of the purest friendship and
regard I have the honor to be, etc.,
G. Washington.

V.

Headquarters, Newburg,
Aug. 10, 1782.

My Dear Chevalier: I love and thank you for the sentiments
contained in your letter of the 5th. I look forward with
pleasure to the epoch which will place us as conveniently in
one camp as we are congenial in our sentiments. I shall embrace
you when it happens with the warmth of perfect friendship.

My time, during my winter residence in Philadelphia, was
unusually (for me) divided between parties of pleasure and
parties of business. The first, nearly of a sameness at all
times and places in this infant country, is easily conceived;
at least, is too unimportant for description. The second was
only diversified by perplexities, and could afford no
entertainment. Convinced of these things myself, and knowing
that your intelligence with respect to foreign affairs was
better and more interesting than mine, I had no subject to
address you upon; thus, then, do I account for my silence.

My time since I joined the army in this quarter has been
occupied principally in providing for, disciplining, and
preparing, under many embarrassments, the troops for the field.
Cramped as we have been and still are for the want of money,
everything moves slowly, but, as this is no new case, I am not
discouraged by it.

The enemy talk loudly and very confidently of peace; but
whether they are in earnest, or whether it is to amuse and
while away the time till they can prepare for a more vigorous
prosecution of the war, time will evince. Certain it is, the
refugees at New York are violently convulsed by a letter which
ere this you will have seen published, from Sir Guy Carleton
and Admiral Digby to me, upon the subject of a general
pacification and acknowledgment of the independency of this
country.

Adieu, my dear Chevalier. A sincere esteem and regard bids me
assure you that, with sentiments of pure affection, etc.,
G. Washington.

{149}

VI.

Newburg, Dec. 14, 1782.

My Dear Chevalier: I felt too much to express anything the day
I parted with you. A sense of your public services to this
country and gratitude for your private friendship quite
overcame me at the moment of our separation. But I should be
wanting to the feelings of my heart, and do violence to my
inclination, were I to suffer you to leave this country without
the warmest assurances of an affectionate regard for your
person and character.

Our good friend, the Marquis de Lafayette, prepared me (long
before I had the honor to see you) for those impressions of
esteem which opportunities and your own benevolent mind have
since improved into a deep and lasting friendship--a friendship
which neither time, nor distance can ever eradicate.

I can truly say that never in my life did I part with a man to
whom my soul clave more sincerely than it did to you. My
warmest wishes will attend you in your voyage across the
Atlantic, to the rewards of a generous prince--the arms of
affectionate friends--and be assured that it will be one of my
highest gratifications to keep a regular intercourse with you
by letter.