VIIThe Council And The Separated Churches
But all has not yet been said, Other hopes may be conceived of the future council. We delight in anticipating other great results. The letters of the Holy Father to the Eastern bishops and to our separated Protestant brethren give us good ground for hope.
At two fatal epochs in the history of the world, two great divisions have been made in this empire of souls which we call the church—twice has the seamless robe of Christ been rent by schism and heresy. These are the two great misfortunes of mankind, and the two most potent causes which have retarded the world's progress. Who does not admit this? If the old Greek empire had not so sadly broken with the West, it would have never been the prey of Islamism, which has so deeply degraded it, and which even now holds it under an iron yoke. Nor would it have drawn into its schism another vast empire, in whose breast seventy millions of souls groan beneath a despotism which is both political and religious.
And who can say what the Christian people of Europe would be today, were it not for Lutheranism, Calvinism, and so many other divisions? These unhappy separations have made Christianity lose its active power in retaining many souls in the light of divine revelation which have since been wrested from it by incredulity. And who can tell us how much they have retarded the diffusion of the gospel in heathen countries?
Sorrowful fact! There are even now millions of men upon whom the light of the gospel has never shone, and who remain sunken in the shadows of infidelity. Think of the poor pagans on the shores of distant isles! They are vaguely expecting a Saviour; they stretch their arms toward the true God; they cry out by the voice of their miseries and their sufferings for light, truth, salvation, Eighteen centuries ago, Jesus Christ came to bring these good tidings to the world, and spoke these great words to his apostles, "Preach the gospel to every creature!" The church alone has apostles of Jesus Christ, emulators of that Peter and Paul who landed one day upon the coast of Italy to preach the same gospel to our fathers and to die together for the same faith.
But poor Indians! poor Japanese! Following the apostles of the Catholic Church sent by the successor of him to whom Jesus Christ said, "Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church," we see other missionaries who come to oppose them. But who sends them? Is it Jesus Christ? What, then, is Christ, as St. Paul asked of the dissidents of the first century, divided? Is not this, I ask you, a dreadful misfortune for the poor infidels? And is it not enough to make every Christian shed tears?
And union, if it were only possible, (and why should it not be, since it is the wish of our Saviour)—union, especially because now the way is open and distance has almost vanished, would it not be a great and happy step toward that evangelization of every creature which Jesus charged his apostles and their successors to begin when he had left the earth?
Yes, every soul in which the spirit of Jesus dwells should feel within a martyrdom when it considers these divisions, and repeat to heaven the prayer of our Saviour and the cry for unity, "My Father, that they may be all one, as you and I are one." This is the great consideration which influenced the head of the Catholic Church when, forgetting his own dangers, and moved by this care for all the churches which weighs so heavily upon him, he convoked an ecumenical council. He turns toward the East and to the West, and addresses to all the separated communions a word of peace, a generous call for unity. Whatever may be the way in which his appeal is received, who does not recognize, in this most earnest effort for the union of all Christians, a thought from heaven, inspired by Him who willed that his Church should be one, and who said, as the Holy Father has been pleased to recall, "It is by this that you will be known to be my disciples"?
But will our brethren of the East and West respond to this thought, this wish? The East! Who is not moved before this cradle of the ancient faith, from whence the light has come to us? I saw the Catholic bishops of the East trembling with joy at the announcement of the future council, and expecting their churches to awake to a new life and to a fruitful activity. But will the Eastern churches refuse to hear these "words of peace and charity" that the Holy Father has lately addressed to them "from the depths of his heart"? [Footnote 10] And why should they be deaf to this appeal? For what antiquated or chimerical fears? Who has not recognized and been deeply touched by the goodness of the pontiff? How delicately, and with what accents of particular tenderness, does the Holy Father speak of our Oriental brethren, who, in the midst of Mohammedan Asia, "recognize and adore, even as we do, our Lord Jesus Christ," and who, "redeemed by his most precious blood, have been added to his church!" What consideration does he manifest for these ancient churches, to-day so unfortunately detached from the centre of unity, but who formerly "showed so much lustre by their sanctity and their celestial doctrine, and produced abundant fruits for the glory of God and the salvation of souls!" [Footnote 11]
[Footnote 10: Apostolic Letter of Pius IX., September 8th, 1868.][Footnote 11:ibidem.]
And, at the same time, we must admire his gentleness, his forgetfulness of all his irritating grievances. The Holy Father speaks only of peace and charity.He asks only one thing, and that is, that "the old laws of love should be renewed, and the peace of our fathers, that salutary and heavenly gift of Christ, which for so long a time has disappeared, may be firmly re-established; that the pure light of this long-desired union may appear to all after the clouds of such a wearisome sorrow, and the sombre and sad obscurity of such long dissensions." [Footnote 12]
[Footnote 12:Ibidem.]
But let the Eastern bishops know that this deep longing for peace and union is not found in the heart of the Holy Father alone; the bishops and all the Christians of the West, how can they help desiring this most happy event? Can there be any good gained in keeping the robe of Christ torn asunder? And what—I ask it in charity and for information—what can the churches of the old Orient gain by not communicating with those of the entire universe? Who prevents them? Are we yet in the time of the metaphysical subtleties and cavils of the Lower Empire?
I have already alluded to the infidel nations. Let my brethren, the Eastern bishops, permit me to recall to them what is at this moment the state of the entire world and the situation of the church of Christ in all its various parts. If in every time the church of Christ has had to struggle, is she not now more than ever before resisted and fought against? Is not the spirit of revolution—and, unfortunately, it is an impious one—rising against her on every side? And you, Eastern churches, whether you are united or not, have you not also your dangers? Is not your spiritual liberty unceasingly threatened? Is not Christianity with you surrounded by determined enemies—at your right, at your left, on every side? And will not the storm of impiety which now disturbs Europe, since distance is no more an obstacle, burst upon Asia, and will not the Christian races of the East become contaminated by the repeated efforts of an irreligious press?
In such a critical situation, when every danger is directed against the church of Jesus Christ by the misfortunes of the time, the first need of all Christians is to put an end to division which enfeebles, and to seek in reconciliation and peace that union which is strength. What bishop, what true Christian, will meditate upon these things, and then say, "No, division is a good; union would be an evil"? On the contrary, who does not see that union, the return to unity, is the certain good of souls, the manifest will of God, and will be the salvation of your churches? What follows from this? Can there be any personal considerations, any human motives whatsoever, superior to these great interests and these grave obligations? Your fathers, those illustrious doctors, Athanasius, Gregory of Nazianzen, Basil, Cyril, Chrysostom, did not find it hard to bend their glorious brows before him whom they call "the firm and solid rock on which the Saviour has built his church." [Footnote 13] If they were living to-day, would they not, as Christians, and most nobly, too, trample upon an independence which is not according to Christ, but which is merely the suggestion of a blind pride? If past centuries have committed faults, do you wish to make them eternal?
[Footnote 13:Ibidem; words of St. Gregory of Nazianzen, quoted by the Holy Father.]
But the time, if you will hear its lessons, will bring before your mind the gravest duties. You who are surrounded on one side by despotism, and on the other by Mohammedanism, surely, you cannot fail to feel the peril of isolation, and the fatal consequences of disunion.
May God preserve me from uttering a word which can be, even in the most remote way, painful to you; for I come to you at this moment with all the charity of Jesus Christ.
Indeed, whether I think of those unhappy races whose souls and whose country have become sterile under the yoke of the religion of Mohammed, or whether I turn my eye toward those great masses of Russians, grave in their manners, religious, who have remained in the faith, notwithstanding the degradation of their churches, and notwithstanding the supremacy of a czar whose pretended orthodoxy has never inspired even the least pity and justice for Poland! equally do I feel the depths of my soul moved to pray for those many nations who are worthy of our interest and our sincere compassion. O separated brothers of the East!—Greeks, Syrians, Armenians, Chaldeans, Bulgarians, Russians, and Sclavonians, all whom I cannot call by name—see the Catholic Church is coming toward you, she stretches out her arms to embrace you! O brothers! come!
She is going to assemble, as the whole church, from all parts of the civilized world. From our West, from your East, from the New World, also, and from far distant islands, her bishops are now hastening to answer the call of the supreme chief, to meet at Rome, the centre of unity. But ah! she does not wish to assemble her council without your presence, O brothers! come!
This is one of those solemn and infrequent occasions which will take centuries before its equal is seen. The church offers peace. "With all our strength we pray you, we urge you, to come to this General Council, as your ancestors came to the Council of Lyons and the Council of Florence, in order to renew union and peace." [Footnote 14] But, On your Side, will you refuse to take a single step toward us, and allow this most favorable opportunity to escape? Who will venture to take this formidable responsibility upon himself? O brothers! come!
[Footnote 14: Ibidem.]
The heart of the church of Jesus Christ does not change; but the times change, and the causes which have, unhappily, made the efforts of our fathers fail, now, thank God, no longer exist. Then I say to you all, O brothers! come!
In regard to ourselves, we are full of hope; and, whatever may be the resistance that the first surprise, or perhaps old prejudices, have made, everything seems to us to be ready for a return. "Rome," said Bossuet, in former times—"Rome never ceases to cry to even the most distant people, that she may invite them to the banquet, where all are made one; and see how the East trembles at her maternal voice, and appears to wish to give birth to a new Christianity!"
O God! would that we could see this spectacle! What joy would it be for thy church on earth, in the midst of so many rude combats, and such bitter affliction! What joy for the church in heaven! And what joy, churches of the East, for your doctors and your saints, "when from the height of heaven they see union established with the apostolic see, centre of catholic truth and unity; a union that, during their life here below, they labored to promote, to teach by all their studies, and by their indefatigable labors, by their doctrine and their example, inflamed as they were with the charity poured into their hearts by the Holy Spirit, for Him who has reconciled and purchased peace at the price of his blood; who wished that peace should be the mark of his disciples, and who made this prayer to his Father, 'May they be one as we are one.'" [Footnote 15]
[Footnote 15:Ibidem. Unity will be the eternal characteristic of the true church. Every question concerning the church is reduced finally to this question,Where is unity?]
Oh! then, listen to the language of the church, the true church of Jesus Christ, who alone, among all Christian societies, raises a maternal voice, and demands again all her children, because she is their true mother! This is the reason why the Sovereign Pontiff, after he has spoken to the separated East, turns toward other Christian yet not catholic communions, and addresses to all our brothers of Protestantism the same urgent appeal.
Protestantism! "Ah!" exclaimed Bossuet, in his ardent love, in his zealous wish for unity, "our heart beats at this name, and the church, always a mother, can never, when she remembers it, repress her sighs and her desires." These are sighs and desires which we have heard from the Holy Father in an apostolic letter written a few days after the Brief addressed to the Eastern bishops, to "all Protestants and other non-Catholics," and in which he deplores the misfortunes of separation, and shows the great advantage of the unity desired by our Lord. "He exhorts, he begs all Christians separated from him to return to the cradle of Jesus Christ. … In all our prayers and supplications we do not cease to humbly ask for them, both day and night, light from heaven, and abundant grace from the eternal Pastor of souls, and with open arms we are waiting for the return of our wandering children." [Footnote 16]
[Footnote 16: Apostolic Letters of September 13th, 1868.]
See, then, what the Holy Father says, and, together with him, the whole church. Shall we hope and pray always in vain? Will the work of returning be as difficult as many think it? I know that prejudices are yet deep; and the difficulty that the work of tardy justice meets with in England is one proof among others; but it is the business of a council to explain misunderstandings, and, by appeasing the passions, prepare the mind to return to the church. And, should any one be tempted to think me deluded, I will answer that among those of our separated brethren who are not carried away by the sad current of rationalism, there is a daily increasing number who regret the loss of unity. I affirm that this is true of America, that it is true of England, I will answer, too, that more than once I have been made the recipient of grief-stricken confidence, and heard from suffering hearts the longing desire for the day in which will be fulfilled the words of the Master, "There shall be one fold and one shepherd." Will this day never come? Are divisions necessary? And why should we not be the ones destined to see the days predicted and hailed with joy by Bossuet? Here, undoubtedly, the dogmatic objections are serious. But they will disappear, if the gravest difficulty of all, in my opinion, is removed; and that difficulty is the negation of all doctrinal authority in the church, that absolute liberty of examination, which, willingly or unwillingly, is certain to be confounded with the principles of rationalism. It is for this reason that Protestantism bears in its breast the original sin of a radical inconsistency, which is lamented by the most vigorous and enlightened minds of their communion. And it is upon this that we rely, at least for numerous individual conversions, and, by God's grace, perhaps for the reconciliation of a large number.
If this essential point is solved—and the solution is not difficult to simple good sense and courageous faith—all the rest will become easy. Reason says, with self-evident truth, that Jesus Christ did not intend to found his church without this essential principle of stability and unity.He did not propose to found a religion incapable of living and perpetuating itself, abandoned to the caprice of individual interpretations. This is so clear of itself that it does not need to be supported by any text of the Bible.
But there are texts which, to persons of candid mind, and without any great argument, are equally convincing. I will repeat only three; the first, "Thou art Peter," the primacy of St. Peter and the head of the church; the second, "This is my body," the most blessed sacrament; the third, "Behold thy mother," behold your mother, the Blessed Virgin, Are you able to efface these three sentences from the Gospel? Have you meditated upon them sufficiently, and upon many others which are not less decisive? Then from the Bible pass to history, and from texts to facts.
Do not facts tell you plainly that the living element of complete Christianity is wanting in you? For, on the one hand, you have had time to understand thoroughly the authors of rupture; and, on the other, you are now able to consider its results. For three centuries you have been reading the Bible; for three centuries you have been studying history. Have not these three centuries taught you a new and solemn lesson? The principle of Protestantism, by developing, has borne its fruits; and the predictions of catholic doctors in ancient controversies are realized every day beneath your eyes. Contemporaneous Protestantism is more and more rapidly dissolving into rationalism; many of her ministers acknowledge that they have no longer any supernatural faith; and recently a cry of alarm, proceeding from her bosom, has resounded even in our political assemblies. But a cry lost in the air! Dissolution will go on, notwithstanding noble efforts and Christian resistance, always increasing and ruining more thoroughly this incomplete Christianity, which needs the essential power that preserves and maintains, and which is nothing else than authority. To lose Christianity in pure sophistry, this is the tendency of modern Protestants, whether they are willing to admit it or not. But good may come from an excess of evil, And what is more calculated to enlighten many deceived but well-meaning souls concerning the radical fault of Protestantism than this spectacle of disintegration by the side of the powerful unity of the Catholic Church, and the council which is going to be its living manifestation?
There is another hope, little in accordance with human probabilities, I know, but which my faith in the Divine mercy does not forbid me to entertain, and that is, that even the Jews themselves, the children of Israel, who, associating with us, lead to-day the same kind of social life, will feel something touch their hearts and bring them, docile at last, to the voice of St. Paul, to the fold of the church. In the Jews, indeed, so long and so evidently punished, I cannot help recognizing my ancestors in the faith; the children of Moses, the countrymen of Joseph and Mary, of Peter and Paul, and of whom it is written, that they "who are Israelites, to whom belongeth the adoption as of children, and the glory and the testament, and the giving of the law and the service of God and the promises: whose are the fathers, and of whom is Christ, according to the flesh, who is over all things, God blessed for ever, Amen." [Footnote 17] I beg them, therefore, to believe in Him whom they are yet expecting; I beg them to believe eighteen hundred years of history; for history, like a fifth gospel, proves the coming and divinity of the Messiah.
[Footnote 17: Romans ix. 4, 5.]
Do not feel astonished, then, to see me full of compassion for Protestant, Greek, and Jew, while I am accused of being severe toward the abettors of modern scepticism. I recognize the difference between errors which are nearly finished, and errors which are just beginning; between responsible and guilty authors who knowingly spread false doctrines, and their innocent victims, who, after centuries, still cling to them. How can I help being moved to tears when I see the people of my country, its mechanics and its farmers, so industrious and so worthy of sympathy, young men of our schools, whose active minds call for the truth, both fall, almost before they are aware of it, into the hands of teachers of error? When the reawakening of faith was so perceptible a few years ago, and a decisive progress toward good seemed to be accomplished, how quickly did the shadows gather around us; dismal precipices opened beneath our feet, the breath of an impious science and violent press became most potent, and the beautiful bark of faith and French prosperity seemed ready to sink before she had fairly left her port! Ah! I do, indeed, execrate the authors of that cruel wreck, while I feel myself full of pity for the many sincere souls I see among our separated brethren, living in error, it is true, but they have never made error live! With warmth I extend to such captive souls a friendly hand. Let them come back to the church; for she it is who guards Jesus Christ, the God of the whole truth, and invites them to this great banquet of the Father of the family, where, as Bossuet has well said, "all are made one."
May the coming council, in its work of enlightenment and pacification, reconcile to us many souls who are already ours by their sincerity, their virtue, and, as I know of many, even by their desires. Let, at least, this be the heartfelt wish of every Catholic! Yes, let us open our hearts with more warmth than ever to these beloved brethren; let us wish—it is the desire of the Holy Father—that the future council may be a powerful and happy effort, and let us repeat unceasingly to heaven the prayer of the Master, "May they be one, as we are one."
VIII.The Catholic Church.
And you, whom the duties of my position compel me to address persistently—in time and out of time, says St. Paul—adversaries of my faith, though I speak to you with austere words upon my lips, still know that it is with charity in my heart toward you all, whether philosophers, Protestants, or indifferent to all religion, yea, I would wish my voice could reach the most wretched pagan lost in the shadow of the superstition which yet covers half the globe. O brethren! I would that you could taste for a single moment the deep peace that one feels who lives and dies in the arms of the church! Bear witness with me to this peace, my brethren of the priesthood, and every Christian of every rank and of all ages! When one knows that he is surrounded by this light, assured by her promises, preceded by those sublime creatures who are called saints, and whose glory in heaven the church of the earth salutes, bound by tradition to all the Christian centuries by the successors of the apostles, and founded, at last, upon Jesus Christ, what joy! what a company! what power! and what repose in light and certainty!
I am firmly convinced, and each day brings forth a new proof, that the enemies of the church do not really detest her. No; the dominant sentiment among our enemies is not always hatred. There is another feeling which they do not admit, which is far more frequent among them, This is envy. Yes; they envy us; the atheist, at the moment he is insulting a Christian, says secretly to himself, "Oh! how happy he is!"
Let us not credit that which we hear said against the church, that her majestic face has been for ever disfigured by calumny, and that henceforth men can only see in her a mistress of tyranny and ignorance. These violent prejudices certainly do have an influence; our faults and our enemies undertake the business of propagating them. But the church, in spite of this—and the ecumenical council will prove this again to the world—will not be any less the church of Christ, "without blemish and without spot," notwithstanding the imperfections of her children; and there is not one among those that attack her who can tell us what evil the church has ever done to him. "My people, what have I done to thee?"
What evil! Citizens of town and country, you owe to the Catholic Church the purity of your children, the fidelity of your wives, the honesty of your neighbor, the justice of your laws, the gay festival which breaks in upon the monotony of your daily lives, the little picture which hangs upon your wall; and, more than these, you owe her the sweet expectation which waits by the cemetery and the tomb! This is the evil she has done you—this enemy of the human race!
And if you can raise your thought above yourself, above your own interests, above your homes; if you allow your thoughts to soar higher than the smoke which curls above your roofs, what a grand spectacle does the Catholic Church present! She is great and good, even in the little history of our life—greater and far better does she appear in the history of the laborious developments of human society. Inseparable companion of man upon this earth, she struggles and she suffers with him; she has assisted, inspired, guided humanity in all its most painful and glorious transformations. It was she who made virtues, the very name of which was yet unknown, rise up from the midst of pagan corruption; and souls, so pure, so noble, so elevated, that the world still falls upon its knees before them.
It was she who tamed and transformed barbarians; and who, during the long and perilous birth of modern races in the middle ages, has courageously fought the evil, and presided over all progress. And it must be again the Catholic Church which will help modern society to disengage from the midst of its confused elements that which disturbs its peace, the principles of life from the germs of death, by maintaining firmly those truths which alone can save it.
Ah! we do not know the Catholic Church well enough. We live within her fold, we are a part of her, and yet we do not understand her. We ignore both what she was and what she is in the world, and the mission God has given her, and the living forces, the divine privileges, bestowed upon her, so that she may accomplish eternally her task upon the earth, to maintain immutably here below truth and goodness, and to remain for ever, as an apostle said of her, "the pillar and the ground of truth."
Surely, we never hear it made a matter of reproach that a pillar remains unchanged; what would become of the edifice, if the pillar were to leave its place?Why, then, reproach the church for being immovable, and why is not this immobility salutary for you? What will you do when there are tremblings in regard to the truth like the trembling of the earth? While you must disperse, we are uniting. What you are losing, we are defending. We can say to modern doctrines, "We knew you at Alexandria and at Athens; both you, your mothers, your daughters, and your allies." The church can say to the nations, when the Pope has gathered their ambassadors: "France, thou hast been formed by my bishops; thy cities and their streets bear their names! England, who has made thee, and why wert thou once called the isle of saints? Germany, thou hast entered into the civilization of the West by my envoy, St. Boniface. Russia, where wouldst thou now be, were it not for my Cyril and my Methodius? Kings, I have known your ancestors. Before Hapsburg, or Bourbon, or Romanoff, or Brunswick, or Hohenzollern—before Bonaparte or Carignan, I was old; for I have seen the Caesars and the Antonies die; to-morrow I will be, for I am ever the same. Do you answer that it will be without money, without dwelling, without power? It may be so, for I have endured these proofs a hundred times, always ready to address to nations the little sentence Jesus once spoke to Zaccheus, 'This day I must abide in thy house.' If I leave Rome, I will go to London, to Paris, or to New York." It is only of the church and of the sun that it can be said that to-morrow they will certainly rise; and this is the reason that the church, in the midst of the disturbances of the present time, boldly announces her council.
Admirable spectacle, that our century would wish not to admire, but whose grandeur it is forced to acknowledge. Yes, many a wearied eye rests with irresistible emotion upon this stately pillar, standing alone in the midst of the ruins of the past and of the actual destruction of all human greatness. The indifferent feel troubled, surprised, attracted at the sight of the church testifying her immortal power by this great act; and after they have exhausted all their doctrines, they are tempted to exclaim to the Supreme Pontiff that which Peter, the first pontiff, once said to Jesus, "Master, to whom shall we go? you have the words of eternal life."
Hear the words of life, you who doubt, who search, who suffer! Hear them also, you who triumph, who rejoice, who lord it over your fellowman! Hear the words that the church calls her little children to repeat at every rising of the sun:Credo, I believe! I believe in one God, the Creator. See,savants, here is the answer to your uncertainties.Credo, I believe! I believe in a Saviour of the world who has consecrated purity by his birth, confounded pride by his precepts, rebuked injustice by his sufferings, and proved his divinity and immortality by his resurrection, I believe in Jesus Christ! See in him, poor, afflicted humanity, poor, oppressed people, an answer to your despair.Credo, I believe! I believe in the Holy Ghost, in the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, in the judgment, and in a life of everlasting happiness to those who have fought the good battle. See in our creed, O Protestants and philosophers! so divided in your affirmations, so narrow in your hopes, the response to your disputes. See in it, oppressive monarch, the answer to your iniquities! And see, also, O pitiless death! the answer to your terrors.
To love, to hope, to believe! Everything is contained in these words; and it is the church who alone can preserve in unshaken majesty and in the universal truth thisCredo, that the nineteenth century, now in the dawn of the twentieth, is going to repeat with the two hundred and sixty-second successor of the fisherman Peter, first apostle of Jesus Christ.
But, brothers, let us cease speaking; let us cease disputing, let us cease fearing, let us bend the knee and pray!
O God! who knows the secret of your Providence, and who knows the wonders which the church will yet display to the world, if men's faults and their passion do not retard her? If religion and society, leaning one upon the other, should advance, with mutual concord, on their blessed course, what great steps would there be toward the establishment of your reign upon the earth, toward the progress of nations, toward liberty by the way of truth, toward the real fraternity of men, toward the extinction of revolution and of war, toward the peace of the world. Then a new era would open before us, and a new great century appear in history. Let us throw open our souls to these hopes; let us beg these blessings of God, and let us foresee possible misfortunes only to prevent them. Let it be known at least that Catholics are not men of discouragement, of dark predictions, or of peevish menaces; but men of charity, of noble hopes, of peaceful effort, and, at the same time, of generous struggle.
Let us invoke St. Peter and St. Paul; let us invoke the Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus, the honor and the heavenly guardian of the race of man; and, united to the souls of all the saints, let us pray to the adorable Trinity reigning in heaven!
Let us pray that the council may be able to fulfill its task; that the Christian world will not repel this great effort which the church is making to help them; that light may find its way into their minds, and that their hearts may be softened! That misunderstandings may be explained, prejudices removed; that unreasonable fears may disappear, and that Christianity, and consequently civilization, may flourish with a new and more vigorous youth. May the return to the church, so much desired and so necessary, take place!
Let us pray for the monarchs of the world, that the wish and formal request that the Holy Father made them in his letter may be granted, May they cast aside all silly objections, and favor by the liberty they give the bishops the future assembly of the church, and let her council meet in peace.
Let us pray, too, for their people, that they may understand the maternal intentions of the church; and, closing their ears to calumny, may hear with confidence and accept with docility the words of their mother.
Let us pray even for the avowed enemies of the church, that they make a truce with their suspicions and their anger until the church has announced, in her council and under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, her decrees whose wisdom and charity can hardly fail to touch them.
Let us pray for so many men of good faith, men of science, statesmen, the heads of families, workmen, men of honor, whom the light of Jesus Christ has not yet enlightened, that they may now receive its beneficent rays.
Let us pray that the anxious wishes of so many mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters, who, in obscurity, are maintaining purity and holiness in their families, often without being able to bring our holy faith there, may at length be heard.
Let us pray for the East and the West, that they may be reconciled; and for our separated brethren, that they may leave the division which is destroying them, and answer the urgent appeal of the holy church, and come to throw themselves in those arms which have been open to receive them for three centuries.
Let us pray for the church, for her faithful children, and for her ministers, that each day may find them more pure, more holy, more learned, more charitable; so that our faults may not be an obstacle to the reign of that God whose love we are appointed to make known.
Let us also pray for the Holy Father. Deign, O God! to preserve him to your church, and enable this great pontiff, who has not feared, even amid the troubles of the age, to undertake the laborious work of a council, to see its happy issue! May he, after so many trials, bravely borne, rejoice in the triumph of the church, before he goes to receive in heaven the reward of his labors and his virtues!
I.We like sheep have gone astray,Kyrie eleison!Each his own misguided way,Kyrie eleison!Wandering farther, day by day,Kyrie eleison!II.Shepherd kind, oh! lead us back;Christe eleison!Wrest us from our dangerous track,Christe eleison!Lest the wolves thy flock attack;Christe eleison!III.Ope for us again thy fold,Kyrie eleison!Night approaches, drear and cold;Kyrie eleison!Death, perchance, and woes untold;Kyrie eleison!Richard Storrs Willis.
I.We like sheep have gone astray,Kyrie eleison!Each his own misguided way,Kyrie eleison!Wandering farther, day by day,Kyrie eleison!II.Shepherd kind, oh! lead us back;Christe eleison!Wrest us from our dangerous track,Christe eleison!Lest the wolves thy flock attack;Christe eleison!III.Ope for us again thy fold,Kyrie eleison!Night approaches, drear and cold;Kyrie eleison!Death, perchance, and woes untold;Kyrie eleison!Richard Storrs Willis.
The home of the street-ballad, pure and simple, is in Ireland. It has nearly vanished in England, destroyed by the penny newspaper, which contains five times as highly spiced food for the money. In Ireland it still exists and supplies the place of the newspaper, not only in appeals to the passion or reason, but as a general chronicle of every event of importance, local or national, Very often both are combined, and the leading article and the account of political insult will be run into rude rhyme together, and the story of a murder be interspersed with reflections on its sin. The quantity of ballads is, of course, enormous, and to expect that any but a small portion should possess more poetry than a newspaper article would be unreasonable. But all are not of this prosaic class, and some possess the genuine spirit of poetry under their rude but often spirited diction.
The first question naturally asked is, Whence comes this enormous flood of ballads? Who are the poets who produce them on every imaginable subject, even the most verse-defying public meeting, or in praise of humblest of politicians? Like the immortal Smiths and Joneses, that make the thunder of theTimes, their names never appear, and though the ballad or the leading article—and both have done so—may influence the fate of nations, it will bring to the author only his stipulated hire. At present, the street-ballads of Ireland are mostly composed by the singers themselves. In ancient days, the weavers and tailors and the hedge-schoolmasters used to be a fruitful source of supply, the sedentary occupations of the former being popularly supposed to foster the poetic talent, The latter class has vanished, and if here and there one exists, it is in the shape of a red-nosed, white-haired veteran, who is entertained in farmers' houses and countryshebeens, in memory of his ancient glory, when sesquipedalian, long words and "cute" problems made him the monarch of the parish next to the priest himself. However, the singer of the ballad is, in most instances, the writer, who is only anxious for a subject of interest on which to exercise his muse, and generally turns out half-a-dozen verses of the established pattern in half an hour. This he takes to the publisher, who not only allows him no copyright, but does not even make a discount in the price of his stock in trade, for which he pays the same as his brother bards, who, finding his ballad popular, will straightway strain their voices to it. But then he has the same privilege with their productions, so that it is all right in the long run. The ballads are printed on the coarsest of paper with the poorest of type, and generally with a worn-out woodcut of the most inappropriate description at the head. Thus, for instance, I have one, where a portrait of Jerome Bonaparte does duty over the "Lamentation of Lawrence King for the murder of Lieut. Clutterbuck."
The ballad-singers are of both sexes, and are very dilapidated specimens. The tone in which they send their voices on the shuddering air is utterly indescribable—a sort of droning,pillelufalsetto, at once outrageously comical and lugubrious. They sing everything in the same melancholy cadence, whether lamentation or love-song. Very often, two, more especially of women, will be together.The first will sing the first two lines of a quatrain alone, and then the second will join in, and they rise to the height of discord together. Fair-days are their days of harvest, although in cities like Cork or Waterford they may be seen on every day except Sunday. A popular ballad will often have a very large sale, and will find its way all over the country.
The greater portion of ballads composed in this way are, of course, destitute of anything like poetry—mere pieces of outrageous metaphor and Malapropoian long words, for which last the ballad-singers have a ridiculous fondness. The singers sing in a foreign language; they have lost the sweet tongue peculiarly fitted for improvised poetry, in which their predecessors the bards, down to the date of less than one hundred years ago, sang so sweetly and so strongly, with such dramatic diction and happy boldness of epithet. The language of the Saxon oppressor is from the tongue, and not from the heart. As the mother of the late William Carleton used to say, "the Irishmelts into the tune;" the English doesn't, and so many of the finest of the ancient melodies are now songs without words. "Turlogh O'Carolan," "Donogh MacConmara," and the "Mangaire Sugach" have not left their successors among the "English" poets of the present day. Among a people naturally so eloquent as the native Irish, not even the drapery of an incongruous language can entirely obscure the native vigor and strength of thought. A ballad is sometime seen which, though often unequal and rude, is alive with impassioned poetry, fierce, melancholy, or tender, and it almost always becomes a general favorite, and is preserved beyond its day to become a part of the standard stock. The songs of so genuine a poet as William Allingham, who is the only cultivated Irish poet who has had the taste and the spirit to reproduce in spirit and diction these wild flowers of song, have been printed on the half-penny ballad-sheets, and sung at the evening hearth and at the morning milking all over Ireland. "Lovely Mary Donnelly" and the "Irish Girl's Lamentation" have become, in truth, a part of the songs of the nation, touching alike the cultivated intellect and the untutored heart.
The street-ballads may be divided into five classes: patriotic, love-songs, lamentations, eulogies, and chronicles.
The patriotic songs are disappointing. There are few to stir the heart like the war-notes of Scotland. The reason is obvious. The triumphs were few and fleeting, and the song of the vanquished was only of hope or despair. They must sing in secret and be silent in the presence of the victors. In most of the political songs allegory is largely used. Ireland is typified under the form of a lonely female in distress, or a venerable old lady, or some other figure is used to disguise the meaning. Of course the street ballad-singers dare not sing anything seditious, and even the whistling of the "Wearing of the Green" will call down the rebuke of the "peeler." The ballads that express the hatred of the people to their rulers are sung in stealth and are often unprinted. They are not usually the production of the hackneyed professional ballad-singers, and are consequently of a much higher order. The following is a good specimen, It is entitled
The Irishman's Farewell To His Country.Oh! farewell, Ireland: I am going across the stormy main,Where cruel strife will end my life, to see you never again.'Twill break my heart from you to part;acushla astore machree.But I must go, full of grief and woe, to the shores of America."On Irish soil my fathers dwelt since the days of Brian Borue.They paid their rent and lived content convenient to Carricmore.But the landlord sent on the move my poor father and me.We must leave our home far away to roam in the fields of America."No more at the churchyard,astore machree,at my mother's grave I'll kneel.The tyrants know but little of the woe the poor man has to feel.When I look on the spot of ground that is so dear to me,I could curse the laws that have given me cause to depart to America."Oh! where are the neighbors, kind and true, thatwere once my country's pride?No more will they be seen on the face of the green,nor dance on the green hillside.It is the stranger's cow that is grazing now,where the people we used to see.With notice they were served to be turned out or starved,or banished to America."O! Erin machree, must our children be exiled all over the earth?Will they evermore think of you,astore,as the land that gave them birth?Must the Irish yield to the beasts of the field?Oh! no—acushla astore machree.They are crossing back in ships, with vengeance on their lips,from the shores of America."
The Irishman's Farewell To His Country.Oh! farewell, Ireland: I am going across the stormy main,Where cruel strife will end my life, to see you never again.'Twill break my heart from you to part;acushla astore machree.But I must go, full of grief and woe, to the shores of America."On Irish soil my fathers dwelt since the days of Brian Borue.They paid their rent and lived content convenient to Carricmore.But the landlord sent on the move my poor father and me.We must leave our home far away to roam in the fields of America."No more at the churchyard,astore machree,at my mother's grave I'll kneel.The tyrants know but little of the woe the poor man has to feel.When I look on the spot of ground that is so dear to me,I could curse the laws that have given me cause to depart to America."Oh! where are the neighbors, kind and true, thatwere once my country's pride?No more will they be seen on the face of the green,nor dance on the green hillside.It is the stranger's cow that is grazing now,where the people we used to see.With notice they were served to be turned out or starved,or banished to America."O! Erin machree, must our children be exiled all over the earth?Will they evermore think of you,astore,as the land that gave them birth?Must the Irish yield to the beasts of the field?Oh! no—acushla astore machree.They are crossing back in ships, with vengeance on their lips,from the shores of America."
The songs which were in vogue among the young and enthusiastic Fenians were, as might be supposed, of an entirely different nature. They were not peasants, but half-educated artisans. The proscribedNational Cork Songstercontains probably more rant and fustian than any similar number of printed pages in existence. The verses, of course, bear a family resemblance to those that appeared in theNationfor a couple of years previous to the events of '48, and in many instances are reproductions. Those of a modern date are still more extravagant, if possible, than that deluge of enthusiastic pathos; for among theNationpoets were Thomas Davis and James Clarence Mangan, while among those of the Fenians of 1866 there is but one that deserves the slightest shred of laurel. Charles J. Kickham, now under sentence of fourteen years' penal servitude in her Britannic Majesty's prisons, has written two or three pieces of genuine ballad-poetry of great merit, which the people have at once adopted as household songs. "Rory of the Hill" is of remarkable spirit. It begins: