Chapter X: A Despairing Chapter (3)

_Noblesse oblige_--I see that in a certain lofty sense this is the motto of her life, and it shall be mine. Do you remember what our dear old philosopher used to say in the scientific school? "The better you begin, the harder is the work before you." And when we asked what he meant, he only said, "Noblesse oblige." It is true, whether the _noblesse_ acts upon us in the form of intellectual strength or of spiritual gifts, or in the old material sense of inherited rank.

Except the hour spent at Vaughan's each day, and an occasional visit to my mother in town, I am wrapped up in the affairs of Company B. The life here is to me most fascinating. You would laugh to see me with a set of wooden soldiers before me on the little table in my tent, studying manœuvres, extricating my company from the most astounding and unheard-of perplexities. The progress of my lieutenants; the health, morals, and immorals of the company; the incapacity of our bugler to draw the faintest sound from his instrument--in short, everything that indicates growth or decay of discipline in Company B, seems to me a matter of national importance.

One word more about Miss Sybil Vaughan. My mother has seen her, and sympathizes with me. When she came to visit the camp, I took her to Vaughan's house to rest. As we left Holly Farm, she gave a sigh of relief, and said: "Robert, I feel as though I had stepped back half a century. When I was a girl, young ladies were like Miss Sybil Vaughan."

One more last word. In your letter you said, with an air of superior wisdom, plainly expressed in the tails of your letters: "You are in love."

Of course I am, and I should be a fool if I were not.

Your friend,
ROBERT ADAIR.

III.

It was June still. The laburnum path was all aglow with blossoms, and the grape-walk, just beyond, made a shadowy retreat toward evening. Sybil was sitting there with her work lying on her lap. She had not sewed three stitches. Why had not Harry come as usual that afternoon to the east window to get his cup of black coffee? Why--O dear! there are so many whys in the case, and never an answer anywhere. Why was there an indefinite air of bustle in the camp as she looked down on it from her bower? Why was there an undefined sense of stir in everything?

She watched the sun drop nearer and nearer to the distant hills. The air was full of saffron light, and heavy with the perfume of flowers. Nature was so new and fresh in her June loveliness; and life was full of a promise of coming beauty, as it had never been before to Sybil in any other of her nineteen Junes. That sense of stir was in her own soul no less than in external nature.

There came the click of an iron heel upon the gravelled path. Sybil half-rose from the bench, and then sank back again. Adair stood before her. "We are ordered off," he said. "We go in an hour. I've but one moment to stay, for I promised Harry to leave him time to come and say good-by."

In the white, scared look on Sybil's face he read the right to speak.

But it had all been so hurried, she thought, when he was gone. Oh! for one of those minutes to return, that she might express to him a tenth part of the joy and pain, the hope and terror, that filled her heart. She could remember nothing clearly or in order, and yet she would have given all the other memories of her happy life to recall each word as it was spoken. He had asked her to give him something of her own, a ring, a glove, a ribbon, no matter what. And she had taken from her neck the medallion, and laid in it a little curl of her hair, and given it to him; and she had felt his hand upon her head, and heard him say, "God keep my sweet, innocent love!" And when she lifted her head he was gone, and she had told him nothing. It could not be a dream, for on her left hand was the ring he placed there--one that she had seen him wear, and thought too beautiful a jewel for a man to have, but now she felt so glad that he had worn it. He had said this was to be the guard of the wedding-ring that he would place there as soon as he could get a furlough to come home; and she had said--yes, thank God! she did remember saying that, at least--she had said that no one but himself should take off this ring or put another in its place; yes, thank God! she had said it.

Then Harry had come, too overjoyed at the news of her engagement to feel the pain of parting. That memory was full of turmoil; mixed, too, with self-reproach that all other emotion was so lost in her new joy or pain, whichever it might be called, that Harry's going gave her no uneasiness.

The sun dropped behind the hills; star after star pierced through the darkening blue. Stillness lay on the valley below, so lately full of tramping horses, and shouting men, and shifting lights.

At last she heard her aunt's voice calling her, and roused herself to go and tell her beautiful story, old as the human race, new as that very June evening. She wondered that Aunt Mildred understood it all so well. Short-sighted Sybil! it was you who were beginning to understand Miss Mildred.

One August day, when a sultry fog held the earth in bondage, and scarlet geraniums blazed like red pools among the wilted grass, Miss Mildred pushed open the little white gate, and, with that hurried step that in old age so poorly simulates speed, hastened across the lawn. She gave a quick glance into the two parlors which were vacant, and then went up-stairs, grasping nervously the low hand-rail. In the upper hall she stopped, and leaned against the balustrade to take breath, and courage, too. Then, opening the door of Sybil's room, she stopped on the threshold to see her lying on the floor with a newspaper crushed in her hand. A bulletin in the village post-office had told her all: "Found dead on the field, Captain Robert Adair, --th Regt. Mass. Vols." They lifted Sybil up and laid her on her bed. She did not "strive nor cry," but in that first grief it pleased God to measure her power of endurance.

It was not in victory that Adair had fallen, but in one of those engagements where, humanly speaking, life seems thrown away. But such thoughts should not disturb the mourners cradled in the providence of God. He chooses the time and the occasion, and what is lost in the current of human events he gathers up and cherishes.

Weeks passed away. Letters came--precious in their recognition of Adair's high integrity, his courage, his compassion; letters, too, from his mother, far away in her summer home, acknowledging Sybil as one with her in love and bereavement. But she lay, white and listless, on her bed, taking little notice of anything except in the expression of gratitude. Harder than anything else for her aunt to bear was the pathos of Sybil's resignation.

There came a soft afternoon, early in September, when for the first time Sybil's easy-chair was placed in the open air, under a striped awning that made an out-door room on the west side of Holly Farmhouse. Here she could be sheltered from the direct rays of the sun, and yet enjoy the trees and flowers.

Great velvet bees hid their heads buzzing in the freshly-opened cups of the day-lilies; a hummingbird dipped his dainty beak into the sweet-peas, and then flashed away to hide himself among the nasturtiums pouring in a golden stream over a broken tree-trunk on the lawn.

Amid the glow of nature, Sybil looked very wan and frail. She had begun to think a little now, and her thoughts ran thus: "I am resigned to God's will. I've not the shadow of a doubt that this is all right. I am more than willing to die; I am willing to live, if only there is a thread to hold by--a stone, a stick, a straw to begin to build my life upon. Other women have borne this and lived. I've seen them going about among their fellow-creatures, talking, smiling, laughing, when others talked, and smiled, and laughed. I have no more sensibility than they. What I have lost was perfect; but what they had lost was perfect, perhaps, to them. I don't rebel, but I am dying of pain. It goes on, and on, and on; if it would stop but for ten minutes and let me take breath, I think I could catch hold of something on earth and begin to live again. There's that dear Aunt Mildred coming through the hall. Now, I _will_ give her a free, happy smile, and lighten her burden if I cannot lighten my own."

Miss Mildred held in her two hands a great vase of spreading golden-rod, which she set down on the little garden-table. Just where she had placed it, against a background of dark-green leaves, it made so beautiful a picture that Sybil uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure. There was a delighted look on her aunt's sweet old face that made her think: "Here is something to hold on by; here is something to build on, if only I am generous enough to try."

Miss Mildred arranged the cushions in Sybil's chair, and then took her hand very gently.

"There is a man in the hall, dear, who brings you a little packet from Virginia. Can you see him?"

"Yes; at once, if you like. Please let him come out here. I can talk to him better in the open air."

He came--a shy, elderly man, whom Sybil remembered seeing once at the camp. He stood awkwardly, shifting his military hat from hand to hand, till she asked him to sit down near her, and said a few reassuring words. Then, seeing that he was struggling to conquer his emotion, she fixed her eyes on the vase of flowers, trying to keep down the impatience struggling within her.

"My name is Abel, lady," he said, at length. "May be you've heard the cap'n say as how I couldn't play the bugle, at the camp below there. The folks all said I couldn't learn, I was so old and dull; but he allus believed everybody was good for something, he did."

Sybil was leaning forward, breathless to hear more.

"I remember you," she said. "Oh! do go on. Tell me everything--every little thing about it all."

"Wall, you see, lady, my two boys they was all I had, and they jined the regiment, and I couldn't live without 'em; and I was hale and strong, and so I made bold for to jine, too. There was one place left in the regiment then--the bugler's place, in Company B--and I pled so hard, the cap'n he said I might try. And, lady, the plaguy thing used to seem to shut right up when I wanted to make it blow, and the men used to laugh at me, right out afore my boys. And Abner and John Henry they felt kind o' cheap, and they kept sayin' to me, 'Father,' they says, 'it makes us feel kind o' bad to hear you tryin' so hard and not learnin'; don't you think you'd better give it up?' And says I, 'No, boys,' says I, 'while there's breath in my body, I won't give it up till I've conquered that crittur.' And, lady, when the cap'n see me tryin' so hard and allus comin' to grief, what does he do but he takes hold himself, and he learns all them signals, and he teaches on 'em to me. And so I went to the war with my boys, and I nursed John Henry through a fever, and I kept Abner from fallin' into bad company; and, lady, if I could have saved the cap'n's life by givin' my skin inch by inch, I'd have done it; but I couldn't. So I just held his head against this old heart, and let him breathe his life away. And I laid him down on the sod as tender as if I'd been his mother."

"May God reward you! Did he suffer much?"

Tears, such as she had longed for, were pouring from her eyes.

"No, lady; he was gone before the surgeons came on to the field. He lay quite still, without a moan or sigh; and, now and then, he'd say a word to me. I was wounded, too, just below the knee. I dropped down about six feet off from him; and when the retreat came, and I saw as how I was left behind with the cap'n, didn't I praise the Lord!"

"What did he say to you?"

Abel took a little packet from his breast, and laid it in Sybil's hand. "He says to me, 'Abel,' says he, 'when you can get a furlough _honorable_,' says he--'for you mustn't go when the country needs you bad--you take this locket' (a-unhookin' it from his neck) 'to Miss Sybil Vaughan--her that lives in the stone farmhouse above our old camp at Holly Farm--and you tell her as how the poor thing tried to save my life; and she'll see it by the great dent in the gold made by a bullet. And you tell her as how she's to open it herself, and see what I put there. And you tell her '--I'm a Methodist, lady, but I'll tell you word for word what he said."

"Yes, word for word."

"'You tell her,' says he, 'how I pray that Christ and his Blessed Mother may be her comfort as they are mine; and tell her as how I've never let a thought enter my mind, since we parted, that she wouldn't have approved. And tell her,' says he, a-raisin' himself half-way up from the ground, 'you tell her I love her fond and true, and that we shall meet in heaven when she's done the work on earth she is so fit to do. And tell her to comfort my mother. Poor mother!' And then he put his arm round my neck, and kind o' stroked my cheek, and he says, soft and low, a few words, and all I heard was, 'Receive my soul,' and then I kissed him, and laid him down on the turf, and his face was like as I think it will be in heaven at the great day. And now I'm goin' to leave you, lady, 'cos I know as how you want to be alone. And, with your leave, I'll come again, and tell you how we loved him, and how we cried like babies round the ambulance that brought him to the camp; and how there was scarce anything left to send home to his mother, 'cos he used to give his things away to the sick boys--blankets, and money, and shirts, and all."

Then Abel took Sybil's delicate hand reverently on his broad, brown palm, and kissed it.

"Lady," he said, "you're the only thing ever I see that was fit to mate with him."

"You will come again," she said. "As you have no daughter, and there must be many things needed to make you comfortable during your convalescence, you will let me see to all that. And you will let me replace the many things you must have lost or worn out during these hard three months?"

She spoke beseechingly, looking up into his face like a child pleading for a toy.

"You shall just wind me round your finger like he did," said Abel. "I allus thought I'd got grit in me till I seen him, and then it seemed as though I hadn't no will but his'n."

* * * * *

Sybil was alone with the little packet. With trembling fingers she untied the string and removed the wrappings of paper. There lay the medallion with its twisted chain. She passionately kissed the battered enamel that had stood between him and death. Then she opened the locket. With the silky, yellow curl lay a little lock of dark-brown hair. She was touching it tenderly, wondering when he had placed it there for her consolation--whether just before the skirmish or soon after he left her--when a turn of the locket in the level rays of the sun showed two words scratched on the inner side with some rude instrument. She looked closer, and read: "Noblesse Oblige."

When Miss Mildred came to lead her into the house, there was a change in her face that filled the gentle lady's heart with gratitude. It was the look of courage that comes to those who recognize the claim of their high birth as the children of God.

THE SPIRIT OF CATHOLIC ASSOCIATIONS.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CIVILTA CATTOLICA.

I.

All societies have aims, more or less remote, which they aspire to realize. Catholic societies have an object which they also strive to accomplish. Theirs is the victory of the church over the modern Islamism, the enemy of all religion and civilization, commonly called the Revolution. This monster, once obtaining control of the state, fills nations with ruins, and in its proud ferocity ever threatens new disorders and fresh streams of blood. Catholic associations, in order to be victorious, must pass over the dead body of this powerful enemy. There is no other way. The enterprise is difficult, requires great courage, absolute generosity, and endurance capable of every trial. But they will win the day; they will yet sing the hymn of triumph; for they march to the battle and fight it in the proper spirit: that is, the Catholic spirit. The victory will be theirs; but only on conditions.

Reason proves it. The labor of a society must be proportioned to the end proposed, as the force must be adequate to the effect intended. It is impossible that an army can win a battle if the necessary discipline, obedience to officers, and courage be wanting. So with Catholic associations. Their object, being a religious one, a crusade which purposes to assure the triumph of Catholic doctrines and institutions, it is impossible for them to act with vigor, to bear the fatigue, stand the brunt of their adversaries' onslaught, conquer their errors, and subdue their forces, unless they are moved, animated, and fortified by the spirit which is peculiar to Catholic associations. If they march to the combat with inadequate forces or lax discipline, they will only become objects of derision to their enemies.

What is the spirit of Catholic societies? It is the spirit of faith. Sacred phalanxes of a religion whose foundation is faith; restorers of principles that are derived from faith; protectors of institutions based on faith--how can they do battle if their minds be not animated with the spirit of faith, if their deliberations be not inspired with it; if their works be not its visible effects? Yes; the spirit of faith is the peculiar spirit of Catholic associations; it is their essence, their qualifying property, and the secret power which impels the Catholic onward to the heroism of virtue. Give us Catholic associations animated by a spirit of living, fervid faith, and great acts will not be slow in production. Examples of it may be seen in the immense and sublime temples erected when the spirit of faith burned in the breasts of our forefathers, to whom it was only necessary to propose the plan in order to have it carried out; and in those chivalrous bands of knights who armed themselves against Mohammedan fury, and fell pierced by numberless wounds on the ground given them to defend, but never yielding an inch to the foe.

Catholic associations imbued by a spirit like this need not fear the power of their adversaries, nor heed their numbers. Faith in the conflict is the buckler which cannot be broken, the shield which cannot be pierced, the flag which counts as many victories as the battles fought under its folds. Let all the members of Catholic associations march to the contest clothed in this armor, and they will be invincible. St. Paul advised this to the Thessalonians and to the Ephesians. This also was the counsel of St. John.[149] What more do we want? Does not St. John tell us that faith and victory are synonymous terms? "_For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory which overcometh the world, our faith._"[150]

II.

It must be remembered, however, that this spirit of faith must not be a blind spirit, or march to battle with uncertain steps. Associations actuated by such a spirit prosper slowly; without purpose, and consequently without success. The reason is plain, for it is certain that the more thoroughly influenced is a human mind by a motive, the more earnestly will it strive to obtain an object. It is, therefore, evident that the spirit of Catholic associations must be an enlightened spirit, thoroughly knowing what it wants. The Revolution--great mistress in the arts of hypocrisy, great employer of every species of argument in its favor through the license of the press, great seducer by the advantages which it proposes--if it does not always succeed in catching real Catholics in its net, at least sows such prejudices in the minds of some as will make them less hostile to its work or less earnest in the defence of Catholicism, which is another name for truth and justice. This is the first danger to be shunned by Catholic associations. The Catholic societies must not let themselves be seduced by the seductive monsters of the revolution. The quality and natural goodness of the tree is not known so well by its leaves as by its fruit. It is, therefore, necessary to go deeper than the mere extrinsic forms to penetrate the substance of the work done by the revolution. Oh! how many motives to spur on to action would Catholics find in such an investigation! A rapid glance will convince them of this fact.

Observe the religious order. Let the Catholic associate consider, in this regard, a country in which the revolution has made progress. He witnesses the most impious and most lamentable scenes; the church deprived or curtailed of liberty, insulted in her ministers, attacked by literary barbarians, by trammelling laws, or infamous writings; her destruction sworn, Christ impugned in his doctrines, derided in his sacraments, his divinity denied; God excluded from laws, banished from the school; men grouped in hostility to him, shouting, in full daylight under the banner of the free-thinkers, like a horde of savages, "There is no God!"

Pass to the social order. Here a new spectacle of grief is presented. Every effort is used to take away from the community its common belief and to plunge individuals into the vortex of incredulity; a black cloud of practical errors, moving over the nations, abolishing the restraint of conscience, rendering the populace the slaves of the vilest and most truculent passions; the basis of all authority, human and divine, sapped; the most powerful governments crumbling to dust, and threatening to fall a prey either to perpetual anarchy or brutal tyranny.

Consider the nature of the means employed. What a sad view! Perpetual conspiracies, shameless treasons, frauds and deceptions, lies and calumnies, unmitigated oppression and violence. Furnished with these weapons, the revolutionary bands war on God, on Christ, and on his church. The revolution, like a shameless woman, blushes not at its crimes, but glories in its success.

Consider the results. Every religious conviction blotted out, the principles of morality annihilated or obscured, authority destroyed, and consequently a society springing up composed of men without certainty in regard to their end, without any immutable law to restrain them, without any bond of affection to unite them. Hence, we have the unrestrained indulgence of the passions, egotism the universal law, force and cunning the only arms, and mutual demolition the consequence. The old French revolution proves it; the modern one of Paris confirms it. The revolutionary Guéroult himself attests it in stating that the Parisian insurrection "is disorder, destruction, self-abandonment, the putrid decomposition of a society without belief, without compass Or ideal."[151] The results of the revolution may be summed up in one phrase: it makes men beasts, and society bestial.

A Catholic association which considers these effects of the revolution in the light of faith, appreciating the means employed and the sad results, cannot act remissly. It is not possible; it must rise in the name of the rights of God, of Christ, of the church; in the name of that religious belief which is attempted to be taken from the people, and the principles of moral reason; it must rise full of shame for society, which tolerates such horrible abuses and crimes. It will rise to repair these defects with gladness. The spirit of faith, strengthened by the motives proposed, will spur it on in its efforts. The Catholic associations of Germany are undoubtedly energetic; so are those of Austria; but the secret of their force is found in the fact that the men who lead them are men of strong faith and of great prudence and intelligence. This is evident from their congresses, in their speeches and newspapers. Catholic associations in other lands would do well to imitate them.

III.

The motives just proposed are powerful, but their source is disagreeable. There are others more pleasant to consider. Among these latter is the nobility of the end proposed by Catholic associations. This is not, as has been calumniously stated, to revenge the defeat of a certain political order, or to satisfy natural restlessness. Catholic associations, vivified by the true spirit of faith, do not stoop so low. They aim at things far higher. The name which they bear, the rules which they profess to follow, the works already accomplished where they have been established, attest it. Their particular object is to drag men, made slaves by the revolution, out of the mire of incredulity and immorality into which false principles have plunged them. They strive to re-establish society on the true bases of truth and justice, to restore tranquillity to peoples disturbed by the passions of party and the fury of false teachers. They aim to reclaim for God the obedience which is his due, the honor which belongs to Christ, the rights taken from the church; to give true liberty--the liberty of the Gospel--to all; to draw men away from the carnal happiness proposed to them by the revolution; and to make them seek that beatitude which every rational Christian should desire. The revolution threatens everything--religion in society and among individuals; the Catholic associate declares himself their champion.

Such is the noble aim of Catholic associations; hence the nobleness of the conflict in which they are engaged. What is this conflict? It is the struggle of truth against error, of right against might, of civilization against barbarism, of duty to God, Christ, and his church against impiety, blasphemy, and injustice. The revolution means the renewal among men of the revolt of Lucifer and his angels; the Catholic associations are the faithful cohorts of God and his Christ. Their war-cry is that of St. Michael: _Quis ut Deus et Christus ejus?_ Who is like to God and his Christ?

This war-cry has been explicitly recommended in the New Testament. The words are given by St. Matthew, St. Mark, St. Luke, and plainly referred to by St. Paul. "Whoever," says Christ, "confesses me in the midst of this sinful and adulterous race, whoever makes public profession of my doctrine, will be recognized by me before the angels, before the tribunal of my Father in heaven."[152] Does not the present generation publicly boast of making a divorce between itself and God and Christ? Giving loose rein to passion under the specious names of liberty of conscience and the preaching of licentious doctrines, modern society is plunging into the abyss of iniquity. Hence, the Catholic associates must rise courageously in the midst of this generation, confess Christ openly, publicly affirm his doctrines, and defend them in the face of his enemies. The Catholic associates must revive the praises of Christ; to them are his divine promises addressed, to them belong the irrevocable guarantees of being placed near the throne of his Father. Combating bravely and bearing themselves like true champions of the religion of Christ, their fate is not and cannot be doubtful.

Let the Catholic associations, therefore, advance courageously to the fight, bearing the banner of Christ against the standard of the revolution. Humanity, liberty, progress, light, are written on the adverse flag, but they are stolen words. In the mouths of the revolutionists they are lies. The flag of humanity is not that which destroys its rights, but that which defends them; nor of _liberty_, that which makes men slaves of their passions instead of freeing them; nor of _progress_, that which has no aim, but that which leads to something definite; nor of light, that which begets obscurity in the intellect, destroying its most obvious principles, but that which illuminates intelligence with divine revelation. This latter is the banner of Catholic associations, consequently it is the flag of humanity, of liberty, of progress, the standard of light.

IV.

The forces of Catholic associations must act in concert. It is not enough that their members be vigorous and animated with an ardent faith. There must be harmony of intelligence among them. Woe to the society whose members have different principles or contradictory plans! Like a machine whose wheels do not move harmoniously, ruin will result. There must be uniformity of principles and thorough harmony of intelligence if the Catholic associates hope to obtain great successes.

Harmony in generalities is easy; but not so in particulars. If you ask a Catholic assembly what it wants, all the members will reply, "The propagation and triumph of Catholic principles." But if you descend to particular enquiries, you may meet difficulties that close the way to success; disputes about fixed principles must therefore be eliminated from Catholic associations.

These associations are in the first place essentially laic, therefore it is not their business to decide questions of principle. Their aim is a practical one, namely, to annul the efforts of the revolution, to introduce the principles of Catholicity where they do not exist, and strengthen them where they do. It is not of their competence to determine them. They are called Catholic, therefore, in case of doubt, they must recur to the teaching church and accept her decisions. We repeat: the Catholic associations must keep within the bounds imposed by their very nature and title, and then there will be no collision of views, no wasting of precious time in useless disputes, no schisms and separations; but, with all the force of a strong faith, they will advance with dignity, security, and success in their undertakings.

In confirmation of this, we quote an apposite passage from the discourse pronounced by his eminence, Cardinal Schwarzenberg, in the general congress of the Catholic associations held at Prague in 1860. "The object of Catholic associations," says the eminent prelate, "is to take measures to introduce and assist the teaching, the principles, the precepts, and the desires of the church in the schools, in the life of the citizen and of the family, among merchants and men of business. Their duty is to support the teaching church by counsel and co-operation. Their duty is also to acknowledge with joyful mind the doctrines of the church, to follow them, defend and sustain them."

Who does not admit the great good performed by the Catholic associations of Germany in the course of the few years during which they have been established? And if we study the reason of their success, we shall find it in the undisturbed harmony of their views. The spirit of "liberal Catholicism" tried to influence them, but in vain. Their associates, mindful of their title and of their duty to the pastors of the church, and especially to the Roman Pontiff, obey his instructions without subtle distinctions and commentaries, and employ their talents properly in securing their prosperity.

An instance of their Catholic zeal is found in the letter sent to the Pope by the assembly held at Innsbrück preparatory to the general congress of the German Catholic societies in 1867. In that letter we read as follows: "On the 9th, 10th, and 11th of September, with the consent and approval of the most reverend Bishop of Brixen, the Catholics of Innsbrück, the capital of the Tyrol, will be gathered together in order to defend courageously their religion as far as God and their strength will allow; and, the errors and lies of vain men being rejected, such errors as your holiness has pointed out and condemned with fulness of authority in your encyclical letters, in order also to take salutary counsel required by the character of the times and circumstances, so as to promote the growth of Catholic life and charity, under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin Mary. An immense war, as you, Holy Father, have expressed it, is waged against divine revelation, against the Catholic Church, against the apostolic see, against good morals and Christian charity, the queen of all the virtues. While this war rages, every Catholic becomes a soldier of Christ; _but we cannot carry on a good and just war if we do not cling with all the ardor of our soul to the apostolic see, fastened to that rock which God has placed in Rome; and if we are not helped and sustained by your supreme authority and your efficacious blessing; wherefore, we_ earnestly _desire from our very inmost hearts to venerate_, follow, and obey you, _the Vicar of Christ_, you, the chief pastor of the whole flock of the Lord, you, father of all the faithful. This is the unanimous feeling of all those who will be assembled in September at Innsbrück; this is the universal desire; and, all animated by this thought, God will defend the Christian doctrine and Christian charity."

Let these be the sentiments of all Catholic associations that may spring up; let this be their programme and the foundation of their constitution. The spirit of prompt submission to the teaching of the church should animate them. This is a simple consequence of the first element of Catholic life. Christ never said to any theologian, erudite man, learned historian, or particular society, "Be ye masters of the church, and let her hear you;" but he did say so to the bishops and to the pope in the person of the apostles and of Peter. Only one blinded by his own pride can deny this fundamental principle of the Catholic religion. The spirit of prompt obedience to lawful authority is the secret which alone will render Catholic societies capable of success.

But harmony of intelligence is not the only means by which Catholic associations can manifest their spirit. There must be unity of feeling and co-ordination of will, elements essential to every society.

V.

A Catholic association which possesses the spirit of submission to the teaching church, and possesses harmony of intelligence, is on the right road, and may hope to prosper in its undertakings. But how often does it happen that a serious impediment, an insurmountable barrier, stops the progress of a brave legion and disappoints the well-founded hopes of victory! Here is a danger which the best-intentioned Catholic association may encounter; an obstruction, an invincible barrier, which may arise from the unexpected disagreement of wills. Agreement of wills is essential as well as harmony of intelligence.

It is evident that, in order to maintain this agreement, we must remove the causes which might disturb it. There are two sources of discord; one arising from the internal relations of a society. The intellects may agree on the principles to be sustained, and the wills consent as to the end proposed; but the task is for the members to choose the same means and put them in practice. Here may arise the discord. Some project or design is proposed. It is debated. The dispute waxes warm. Hard words are interchanged. The majority, of course, carry the project; but the minority may disagree and refuse to co-operate in its execution. Hence disaffection, schisms, and secessions in the association. What is the root of all these troubles? It is, in one word, pride, the root of all schisms. One thinks himself more learned, of greater rank or of more experience than the others, therefore he will not be led by their judgment but by his own self-conceit. The trouble is small in the beginning, but it may produce disastrous results. What is the remedy? It is to bring to every discussion the true Catholic spirit of abnegation and of sacrifice. Whims and prejudices must be laid aside for the sake of harmony and the noble cause to be defended. Our God is a God of peace, not of commotion and disturbance. The best plan is not always that suggested by our weak judgment. Provided the plan of the majority be a good one, though it may not be the most perfect, still, for peace sake, let us adopt it, according to the advice of Xavier, that it is better to accept a unanimous plan, though not the best, rather than a perfect one which would cause dissensions among our brethren.

The second cause of dissensions may be in the external relations of the associates. This would be the more dangerous, because the occasion of it might be an apparent external good to be effected. The will of the bishop or of the pastor may not agree with the desire of the society. In a case of this kind, if the society should act in spite of the episcopal will or opposed to it publicly, a great scandal would happen in the diocese, and the society would fall to pieces. What is the remedy for such calamities? The associates must have filial reverence and obedience for the pastors of the church. Then all difficulties will cease. This is required by the very object of the association, which is to aid the bishops in religious matters; it is also required by the dignity of the bishops, since the Holy Ghost has called them to be rulers in the church. His holiness Pius IX. clearly teaches that this should be the bearing of Catholic societies toward their pastors, in his answer to the Catholics of Innsbrück.

Here we may quote what a bishop said in the general congress held to condemn the proceedings of the so-called German Catholic liberals. These gentlemen, under the appearance of doing good, had expressed their usual lamentations about the storms that threatened the church, the danger to her future freedom, unless the laity were allowed a greater influence in religious matters; to deny them this influence, as had been done so far, would be to render them inert and careless about church matters. Such were the complaints--complaints of the discontented son who is trying to deprive his mother of complete control of the house--subtle revolutionary complaints against the authority of the hierarchy. The Bishop of Brixen, answering them, said, "What kind of influence do laymen want in the church? To control dogma? They cannot. Discipline? They cannot. Influence of the laity is too vague a conception, and, besides, a useless one. In order that it should produce benefits, its limits should be determined, its conditions explained. But it is well known that the chief among them is faithful dependence on the teachings and authority of the church, since the words of the apostle suit individuals as well as the whole church: 'The just man lives by faith.' The life of the church requires nothing but what comes from faith. Hence, when the church finds a layman who manifests his faith in his words and actions, she honors him, salutes him with joy as a co-operator not having belied the words of the apostle of love: Let us be co-workers of truth, co-operators in propagating and strengthening it, and in assuring its triumph. In every age there have been many such men, like our modern Catholic associations, and for this reason we protect them, salute, esteem them; and the best proof of our love for them is that we have hastened to come to this solemn congress of lay associations, assembled to defend Catholic interests." Thus spoke the learned prelate. In conclusion, a Catholic society must not touch on dogmatic subjects, nor interfere in affairs pertaining to ecclesiastical discipline: it should observe proper respect and obedience toward its bishops, and then the bishops will aid, bless and sustain it.

VI.

The parts of a machine, in order to act in concert, must be united according to mechanical laws: so associations must obey the laws of order. They must have co-ordination of forces. In this consists the peculiar advantage of association. Each one has its constitution and by-laws. Let it observe them, adapting them to the wants and peculiarities of each nation. The difficulty is really not in enacting laws for it, but to keep them in vigor.

The associates must have the spirit of order. Then the execution of laws will be easy. Such a spirit will make each member mind his own position; each officer act in his own sphere without infringing on the rights of others. The object of the association being to act with united forces, this purpose cannot be effected by a disorderly mass of individuals, acknowledging no obedience to a local or general superior. Each particular society will become jealous of its neighbor, unless all agree to obey implicitly a central committee. Private utility and individuality must be sacrificed to the public good; jealousy, self-love, personal advantage, these three causes that tend to disrupt the co-ordination of the common forces, must be sacrificed to the common welfare, and to the end for which the association was established, as it is an elementary rule of order that the private must be sacrificed for the public good. For this reason we consider that society best in which the strictest bonds are maintained between the members and the centre or head. Does not union make strength? A necessary consequence is that the force is proportioned to the union. Baron Stillfried, a name dear to Catholics by reason of his fervid zeal for religion, rendering an account of what the Confraternity of the Archangel St. Michael, founded in Vienna in 1860, had done, confessed that, owing to dissensions among the members, and the consequent lack of union of forces, the results had been relatively few. On the contrary, who does not admire the wonderful success obtained by the Catholic _Casini_ of Austria in favor of the pontifical cause, owing to their unity of purpose and union of forces? They obliged the president of the council to receive their complaints; they obliged the chancellor of the empire to excuse himself; they moved all the Catholic populations to such a spirit of action in favor of religion, tied down by the iniquitous laws of the revolution, that all the journals of the secret societies bellowed and blasphemed like lunatics, fearing the destruction of their nefarious designs.

The multiplicity of Catholic interests gives rise to many associations differing according to the difference of their aims. Should this diversity have no common bond of union? By no means. Some have for object matters of essential importance, as, for instance, the freedom of the church, her right to educate, and the independence of her head. In regard to these subjects, all the associations should unite. Is it necessary to prove this? Is it not self-evident? Associations that would act differently would resemble those Chinese troops which neglected the defence of the most important posts, contenting themselves with guarding places of secondary importance.

Catholic societies are not bands of conspirators, they do not excite rebellions, nor use violence or deceit to gain their purpose. These arts are left to the revolutionists. Catholics need no weapons but truth and justice. They must be ready to die for both. But they must act legally, they must not violate the civil order. Consequently, they should never undertake a work without first being satisfied of its lawfulness.

In this way success is certain; for in modern civil society public opinion rules. If Catholic societies defend religion, who can object? For public opinion must admit their right to do so, provided they violate no laws of the state.

VII.

But although legality is required for Catholic associations, they must not be timid or cowardly. They must be brave and magnanimous. Christ teaches us to be magnanimous, for he gave his blood and life for the love of truth and justice; the martyrs in millions died for the same cause. We must imitate them. No difficulty or obstacle must balk the zeal of a Catholic association. No fatigue or danger or sacrifice must be too great for the Catholic associate. The soldier of Christ must conquer difficulties. The present conflict, said Monsignor de Ketteler, in the congress of the Catholic associations of Trèves, needs champions who, for the love of Christ, dare expose themselves to the attacks of newspapers and demagogues, to calumny and terms of contempt in parliament and from the rostrum. The Catholic spirit must be a self-sacrificing and a magnanimous one. Every associate must be a Catholic before being a politician, a Catholic before being a man of letters, a Catholic above all things. He must never be discouraged, but persevere with generous constancy, in spite of the attacks of enemies, or the seeming want of success of many of his efforts. Let the Catholic associates remember that they are fighting under the very eyes of God; and that their struggles, even though not always successful, are a manifestation of their faith before men which will be rewarded in heaven.

VIII.

We say this on the supposition that the combined forces of the association should produce no result. But this supposition is unfounded. Let the Catholic association remain constant in its enterprise, and it will make a new step to victory every day. It may fail in this or that particular measure, but the general cause will prosper. We know that the heads of the secret societies speak in this way, but they do so to deceive. We do not, for our words are founded on solid reasons.

The first is drawn from the nature of the two causes in conflict. The revolution is the cause of error and injustice; Catholicism is the cause of truth and justice, consequently the cause of Catholicism is conformable to the nature of man, formed for the true and the good, while the cause of the revolution is in contradiction with man's nature. How can any nature remain long in a state of contradiction with itself? Passion or ignorance may obscure for a time the human intelligence, but when the contradiction is felt and known, nature revolts against it with all its power, and frees itself. Now, as the associations in the interest of the Catholic faith are striving to enlighten our intellect with the light of truth, and to repress the force of passions by inculcating the love of virtue, the necessary effect of such labor must be that the cause of the revolution will daily lose ground as the light of truth, becoming more apparent, shows the falsity of certain principles. The more the Catholic associations combine in illuminating the human intelligence and correcting the dormant moral sense of society, the more will the Catholic cause hasten towards triumph.

Reason teaches this. But revelation offers other proofs, for it gives us the promises of Christ. These are expressed in those passages in which our Lord likens his doctrines to the little leaven which leavens the whole mass; and when he tells his apostles to trust in him, the conqueror of the world.[153] Let the Catholic associations, therefore, advance in their work with confidence. They have divine promises in their favor. The false and iniquitous doctrines of the revolution will fall to the ground. Its efforts will be in vain, its success only local or temporary; for the friends of truth and of human rights will finally conquer. The best instincts of human nature and the promises of faith are with them.

The Holy Ghost tells us by the pen of St. Paul that truth must conquer in the end, speaking of the saints "who triumphed over the powers of earth, closed the mouths of lions, were invincible in the combat, and conquered their enemies."[154] The children of the revolution, having a presentiment of their defeat by the new Catholic associations, have already cried To arms! and in a thousand ways manifested their fear. Yes, the victorious future belongs to the Catholic associations. Let them, therefore, arise with courage grounded on the principles of faith, strengthened by the noble motives of their enterprise. Harmony of intelligence, the spirit of submission to the church, agreement of wills, with the spirit of sacrifice, and of reverence for their pastors, will make them serried battalions, moving according to law, with magnanimity, constancy, and confidence in God, irresistible in their attacks. Let them fight on the battle-field of faith, and the world will soon know that the proud pomp of the revolution and its thousand war-cries are founded only on falsehood and deceit.

FOOTNOTES:

[149] 1 Thess. v. 8; Ephes. vi. 11, 17.

[150] 1 John v. 4.

[151] _Bien Public_, n. 82.

[152] Matt. x. 32, 33; Mark viii. 38; Luke xii. 8; Tim. ii. 12.

[153] John xvi. 33; Matt. xiii. 33; John xvii. 20-23.

[154] Heb. xi. 33, 34.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.

OUR LADY OF LOURDES.

BY HENRI LASSERRE.

PART NINTH.

I.

By reason of the events which we have narrated, M. Massy no longer felt at home in this part of the earth. The emperor did not fail to send him to the first prefecture which became vacant in the empire. By a remarkable coincidence, this prefecture proved to be that of Grenoble. Baron Massy left Our Lady of Lourdes only to meet Our Lady of La Salette.

Jacomet also left the department, and was appointed chief of police elsewhere. Re-established upon his chosen ground, he contributed with great sagacity to the detection of some dangerous criminals who had baffled the efforts of his predecessor and the active search of the police. The crime was a great robbery committed upon a railroad company, and amounting to several hundred thousand francs. This was the point of departure in his fortunes as a police agent, his true vocation. His remarkable ability, appreciated by his superiors, raised him to a higher place.

The _procureur impérial_, M. Dutour, was also speedily called to other functions. M. Lacadé still remained mayor, and his shadow will yet appear once or twice in the latter pages of our story.

II.

Although he had instituted the tribunal of examination towards the end of July, still, before permitting it to begin its work, Mgr. Laurence desired a more peaceful state of the public mind. "To wait," he thought, "will not compromise God's work, since he holds all time in his hands." The issue proved that he was right. For after the stormy discussions of the French press and the violent proceedings of Baron Massy, the grotto finally became free, and there was no longer fear of the scandal of seeing police agents arresting the episcopal commission on its way to the Massabielle rocks in order to fulfil its duty, and examine the traces of God's finger at the very place of the apparition.

On the 17th of November, the commission went to Lourdes. They examined the seer. "Bernadette," says the _procès-verbal_ of the secretary, "presented herself before us with great modesty, and, nevertheless, with remarkable confidence. She appeared calm and unembarrassed in the midst of the numerous assembly, in presence of distinguished ecclesiastics, whom she had never seen, but of whose mission she had been made aware."

She described the apparitions, the words of the Blessed Virgin, the order given by Mary to build a chapel in her honor, the sudden breaking out of the fountain, the name, "Immaculate Conception," which the vision had given to itself. She set forth all that was personal to herself in this supernatural drama with the grave certainty of a witness fully convinced, and the humble candor of a child. She answered every question, and left no obscurity in the mind of those who interrogated her, no longer in the name of man, as Jacomet had done, but in the name of the Catholic Church. Our readers are already aware of the substance of her testimony. We have, in former pages, narrated events in the order of their date. The commission visited the Massabielle rocks. It beheld the great volume of the miraculous fountain. It established, by the testimony of the neighboring inhabitants, that no spring existed there before the time when it broke forth in the presence of the multitudes under the hand of the ecstatic seer.

At Lourdes and in other places they made studious inquiry into the miraculous cures worked by the water of the grotto.