IV.

"When theye had dyned, as you saye,Lords and ladys yede to playe,Some to tables, some to chesse,And other gamys more or less."

"The writers immediately after the conquest," says a distinguished antiquarian, "speak of the Saxons as playing at chess; and pretend that they learned the game of the Danes. Gaimar, who gives an interesting story of the deceit practised on King Edgar (A.D.973) by Ethelwold, when sent to visit the beautiful Elfthrida, daughter of Orgar of Devonshire, describes the young lady and her noble father passing the day at chess." (Wright.)

Such examples might be multiplied to tediousness; but one more notice of it among the Northmen is worth giving, because it is found in one of the grandest of modern epics, by the Swedish poet, Tegner, founded on events in the life of one of their most renowned heroes—The Legend of Frithiof.

The fortunes of the valiant Frithiof, who was the son of a thane, seem to have been ruled by his love for the fair Ingeborn, daughter of a king, and the scorn with which her two brothers spurned his proposal for her hand. A day of retaliation, however, soon came. Helgé and Halfdan, the brothers, were threatened by a neighboring foe, and sent to Frithiof—certainly with a sublime forgetfulness of what had passed—to ask his aid. When the messenger arrived, he was playing chess with his friend, Bjorn, the Bear. Frithiof refuses very decidedly. His heart still pines for Ingeborn; and, like a true Viking, he betakes himself for consolation to the sea, which he vows shall be "his home in life and his grave in death." The chess-board beside which Frithiof doubtless forgot his griefs for a brief space is described as magnificent—

"Beside a chess-board's checkered frameFrithiof and Bjorn pursued their game;Silver was each alternate plane,And each alternate plane of gold."[168]

Perhaps some reader will be glad to learn that, after a few years, "he is weary of sea-fights and of hewing men in twain," and returns home to marry Ingeborn.

Such was one of the early chess-players.

It is remarkable in the history of chess how very trifling the variations which have ever been made in it. The lapse of time, which has swept away cities and their inhabitants, which has so blotted from human speech the words of those who once held converse around it that their inscriptions on stone are unintelligible, has left it almost unaltered.

Coming close to that domestic life of nations of which chess made one pleasure, what has not changed? Modes of dress, construction of dwellings, fashions of entertainment—all have had their mutations. Yet the game, as far back as the earliest accounts of it, has been almost literally such as we see it. One feature has always marked it,chess; there has always been a sovereign to be attacked and defended, and inferior pieces to accomplish these ends in combination, yet by different means. The board of sixty-four squares has also almost invariably been maintained.

Two pieces were modified when it passed from Arabia to Spain, or rather, from the Saracen to the Christian. In Arabia and Persia, there was no female on the board; what we call "queen" was, with them, "vizier or counsellor," and calledpherz,ferz, orfers. This was retained in Europe until about the eleventh century, when it was supplanted by our queen. But wherefore a queen? We shall see.

Several events combined to make this period the age of poetry and of a peculiar deference to womankind. It will be remembered that in the eleventh century, 1095, was preached the first Crusade, a thing of romance and poetry itself. However different the motives which actuated that crowd of nobles and warriors who joined in creating the mighty army whose advance-guard was led by the monk Peter, to all appearance each one was a hero. Country and kingdom, home and love, happiness of wife or maiden, was the sacrifice professedly offered at the shrine of a holy enthusiasmenkindled by faith. Every earthly interest, every tie of affection, all consideration of self, was to be accounted nothing, compared with the sacred obligations involved in the expedition.

The means of expressing all these delicate sentiments and deep emotions, and furthermore of expressing them in poetry, was happily opened to them at this era in the language of the troubadours—theLangue d'Oc. The polish which poetry had received from the Arabians in Spain had elevated it to an art, and made it so attractive to the more refined classes that the highest born, even kings and princes, did not think it beneath them to cultivate it; and he added greatly to his renown who had qualified himself to express in it the two ruling passions of his soul—his martial ardor and his devotion to hisladye-love. Every knight, almost, was a troubadour, and the homage rendered to woman seems almost fabulous. A French writer says of this period:

"Love had assumed a new character.... It was not more tender and passionate than among the Romans; but it was more respectful, and something of a mystery was mingled with its sentiment. Women were considered rather as angelic beings than as dependents and inferiors. The task of serving and protecting them was considered honorable, as though they were the representatives of the divinity upon earth; and to this worship was added an ardor of feeling, passion, and desire, peculiar to the people of the south, and the expression of which was borrowed from the Arabians."[169]

Woman was not slow in extending her influence to more prosaic matters thanLes Cours d'Amourand the inspirations of poetry; and history furnishes an abundance of examples where female interference was permitted and female decision respected in the gravest affairs of life. After Alphonso VI. of Castile had driven the Moors from Toledo, he granted to such of them as chose to return the use of a cathedral to serve as a mosque; but, says history, "he soon broke his promise, and deprived them of it, at the instigation of and in order to please his wife."

Who, then, but a woman could have routed the grand-vizier from the chess-board and taken his place?

The other piece altered is the bishop, which of course was not so called by the orientals. This piece with the Arabians and Persians was represented by an elephant, and namedpilorphil. In southern Europe, the name was modified intoalfilandaufin, and is found so in old writers; but at a very early period the bishop seems to have been generally adopted. In northern Europe, it was not so; the Russians and Swedes still retain the elephant. What we now call castle, and sometimesrook, was also called by the Saracensroc, and by the Persiansrokh, signifying champion or foot-soldier, and shaped accordingly. This form is seen in some ancient chess-men in the British Museum, supposed to be of Icelandic manufacture; the Icelanders called this piecehrokr. These chess-men, many in number and carved in ivory—that is, the tusk of the walrus—were found in the year 1831, on the coast of the Isle of Lewes, and are referred by antiquaries back to the twelfth century. They are the remnants of seven or eight distinct sets, and are therefore supposed to have belonged to some dealer who was shipwrecked there. The carving on them, and the costumes, bear traces of being Scandinavian. Thekingis in a sitting posture, crowned, and has a sword in his hand, which he rests crossing his lap; thequeenalso is crowned, and holds a drinking-horn, such as the northern women used in serving mead and ale to their guests; one of them represents abishopwith mitre and crozier; theknightsare on horseback, and are covered with armor; and here is therocof the Saracens in its original form, a kind of foot-soldier, in place of the castle—which, however, is yet calledrook. The remainder are pawns. Thus they are nearly identical with any set of modern chess-men, although fabricated more than seven hundred years ago.

The largest king in this collection, in his sitting posture, is more than four inches in height and near seven in circumference. The other pieces are smaller, but correspond. The chess-board which accommodated such pieces must have been a formidable weapon in a strong hand, and quite likely to "break heads and scatter brains."

Many old books are to be found in public and private libraries which contain descriptions of chess-men, rules for playing, etc. In the twelfth century, such a manual was composed by some devotee of the game in Latin verse. A little later, a volume was written in Latin by Jacques de Cessolas; it was translated into French by Jean de Vigny, and entitledMoralization of Chess. It may be seen in English in Caxton'sBoke of Chesse, published in London, 1474.

Damiano, a Portuguese, in the fifteenth century compiled a book of directions for playing, with examples of eighty-eight games.

A little volume, very amusing in its quaint old English, was published in London in the reign of Elizabeth; it is dedicated to Lord Robert Dudley, afterward the celebrated Earl of Leicester. It is entitled,The Pleasaunt and Wittie Playe of the Cheasts, reviewed with Instructions both to Learn it Easily and to Play it Well.Lately translated out of Italian into French, and now set forthe in Englishe by James Rowbotham.

In it, among many other things, the author describes the chess-men:

"As for the fashion of the pieces, that is according to the fantasie of the workeman, which maketh them after this manner. Some make them lyke men, whereof thekyngeis the highest, and thequeene(which some name amasone or ladye) is the next, bothe two crowned. Thebishoppessome name alphins, some fooles, and some princes, lyke as also they are next unto the kynge and queene, other some cal them archers, and they are fashioned accordinge to the wyll of the workeman. Theknightssome cal horsemen, and they are men on horsebacke. Therookessome call elephantes, cariynge towres upon their backes, and men within the towres. Thepaunessome cal fote-men, as they are souldiours on fote, cariynge some of them pykes, and other some javelyns and targets. Other makers of cheast-men make them other fashions, but use thereof wyll cause perfect knowledge."

Such has chess been through times past; it numbers still among its votaries the noble and the learned; and it is advocated by some of them with an enthusiasm surely never surpassed in the days long, long gone by in its oriental home.

It has floated down to us from those days like a leaf on some broad stream beneath whose waves mightier things have sunk.

The nineteenth century is still adding to the catalogue of important events, for which it will be memorable in future histories. Men still live who looked on Fulton's first steamboat on the Hudson, who ventured on the first railway train, and who smiled incredulously at the folly of Morse stretching iron wires on poles along the country between cities a day's journey apart, and pretending thus to transmit messages between them with the velocity of electricity. The humble river steamboat has developed into the gigantic ocean steamer, that heeds not the winds and bids defiance to the waves. Lines of railway intersect continents, and cross from ocean to ocean. Telegraph wires spread their network over every civilized land, and, boldly plunging into ocean depths, aim to girdle the earth. The cotton-gin has revolutionized the habits of nations and the commerce of the world, and the sewing-machine is bringing the change into every household. This wondrous increase of travel and commerce among nations has given birth to international exhibitions of art and industry as gorgeous as the visions of the Arabian story-teller. In the Suez Canal, this century has succeeded where antiquity failed; and in the Mont Cenis tunnel, soon to be finished, it is accomplishing what past ages never dreamed of attempting.

Science, too, contributes her wonders. The sun and the stars and the nebulæ are yielding their secrets; chemistry boasts of her unexpected conquests; and the earth is giving forth its pages of geological lore, fragmentary as yet, and somewhat confused, ofttimes undecipherable, often wrongly read by men, but still presenting to us a kingdom of knowledge unknown a century ago.

In the political and social sphere this century has been equally marked. Vast wars and bloody revolutions ushered it in. Wars and revolutions have marked every decade of its progress. Empires and kingdoms have been thrown down. Others have been established instead, and have perished in their turn. The strong have grown weak, and the weak have become powerful. And to-day, the nations of the civilized world feel that they stand on the thin crust of a volcano, that trembles under our feet, and that may at any time burst forth, in other revolutions and wars, in which arms of precision, titanic artillery, and iron-clad vessels shall play a part never yet witnessed by men.

In the moral and religious world, too, there is equal excitement and confusion. Novel principles are proposed, advocated, and pushed to their extreme and most violent consequences. Nothing in government, in morals, or in religion is left unassailed. There is an incessant war against God, against truth and virtue, and against every principle that would withstand the passions, or the interests, or the caprices of men. And the press, which in its wondrous development has kept full pace with every other art, is ever busy bringing to every household, to old and young alike, sometimes words of truth and goodness, but a thousand times oftener and more actively lessons of immorality, discontent, disorder, and irreligion.

In looking at the world, as it is now, so rapidly moving on, with its vast energies and untiring activity, its ever-increasing commerce, its intense worship of luxury, its oblivion of principle, its grasping after wealth, its restlessness and craving for change for change's sake, one feels like the traveller who crosses the Alps by that late feat of modern engineering, the Mont Cenis Fell Railway. The wondrous scenery of mountain and valley charms you. You are amazed at the boldness which conceived, and the skill which executed the work. You rejoice, as you are borne rapidly on, in the luxuriously-cushioned seat and well-warmed railway compartment, over the steep road you rememberwell to have travelled, years ago, so slowly and painfully. But amid all this pleasure, you cannot shut out the thought that perhaps the very rumbling and jarring of the train may set in motion the vast field of freshly-fallen snow that lies so lightly on the steep side of the peak rising above you, on the right or the left, and bring it down as an irresistible avalanche, overwhelming road and train, and casting the shattered cars and mangled passengers down to the masses of rock and ice that lie in the gorge a thousand yards below.

We glory in our rapid advance in arts, science, and civilization. We feel ourselves borne rapidly and joyously forward in a career of progress. But we cannot shut out entirely a sense of danger. In many countries, society is mined by revolutionary combinations, active and vigilant, watching for any favorable opportunity, and ever ready to take advantage of it. In the universal questioning of every thing and of every principle, the minds of the masses have become excited, have lost in great part, or are fast losing, those fixed and hallowed principles of justice and truth which are absolutely necessary for correct judgment and prudent action. They are ripe for any plan to be proposed, even if its only attraction be its novelty. And they may easily become a mighty engine of brute, unthinking power, in the hands of any one bold enough to seize the control, and skilful enough to guide them for a time. Might now makes right. The world is ruled on the theory of accomplished facts. Peace itself must stand armedcap-à-pie. No one knows into what horrors the death of one individual might, any month, throw hundreds of millions of men.

Has all sense of right and justice faded from the minds of men? Must our progress be marred by this ever-increasing danger. Is there no voice to be raised, no authority to come forth to meet this emergency of the world?

God gave revelation to mankind, teaching the world truth and justice, charity and every virtue, and imparting to man, in his weakness, strength to struggle against and overcome his own passions and the temptations from without. To his church, the pillar and ground of truth, Christ committed the duty of teaching all nations all things whatsoever he had taught, and promised to be with her, in the discharge of this duty, all days even to the consummation of the world. In its fulfilment she must meet opposition, trials, scandals, and difficulties of every sort. But the gates of hell shall never prevail against her.

Many a struggle has she gone through, in the eighteen centuries of her existence; and incalculable are the benefits the world owes to her, even by the confession of her enemies.

While she ever and always teaches the unchangeable truths and precepts given by her Divine Founder, she is ready to accept and bless what she finds of good among men, and labors to eliminate what is evil. From Greece she took what was pure in poetry and the fine arts, and true in philosophy. From Rome she gathered what was just and good in her admirable jurisprudence. Yet, even in the face of bitter persecution, she failed not to denounce immorality, however decked in classic verse; atheism and impiety, however clothed in words of seeming intellectual wisdom; and cruel tyranny, however upheld by power and authority, or made sacred by antiquity and the prejudices or manners of a people. In after times, under the debauched and luxurious rule of the Byzantine emperors, and still later, When the northern barbarians had overrun western Europe and destroyed all government, her powerful influence was felt. Hers was the only voice which could reach and in some measure control the fierce men who sat on thrones they had built with the sword, or could bring peace and the consolations of religion to the hovel of the poor and oppressed. She checked immorality and injustice and taught obedience to law. No one will now contest the truth, that it is to her the modern world owes what knowledge we have of the olden classic civilization. But for her, it would be as dead to us as that of Assyria is to the wild Arabs who pitch their tents on the mounds of Kouyunjik and Khorsabad. To her it owes those grand principlesof law and justice, of stable government and individual rights, of holy marriage, and of arts and science, which go to constitute civilization. The church of Christ cannot be wanting in any emergency of men. It is her office to establish order where else chaos would reign.

Hence it is that in this present crisis, this time of so much good and so much evil, so many hopes and such great danger, she renews and increases her efforts, as of old, that what is good may be increased and confirmed, what is evil may be diminished or eliminated. She devotes to the work her most solemn and effective mode of action—an œcumenical council.

Assuredly no more remarkable event has occurred in this nineteenth century than the meeting of this Œcumenical Council of the Vatican, formally opened in Rome on December 8th last, the feast of the Immaculate Conception. The civilized world seems conscious of its importance. Catholics and Protestants, believers and infidels, all treat of it, some with full faith and earnest hope, some with a dim sense of reverence, some with curiosity, and some with hatred. But none can ignore or despise it. The books that have been published, the stream of pamphlets in every language that is flooding Europe, the countless articles of every character in countless newspapers of every hue—all bear witness to the universal interest in an assembly so extraordinary in its character, and destined to wield so great a moral influence.

Men are struck with wonder at this singular and hitherto unprecedented representation of the whole world. The number of members is in itself large. There were present at the opening session, 5 cardinal bishops, 36 cardinal priests, 8 cardinal deacons, 9 patriarchs, 4 primates, 124 archbishops, 481 bishops, 6 abbots withquasi-episcopal jurisdiction, 22 mitred abbots, and 29 superiors of religious orders; in all, 719 of the 1050, or thereabouts, who would have the right to enter. Many dioceses in the world are vacant, the venerable bishops of others are too aged to travel so far, some are detained by illness and will come later, and some, to their regret, are detained by the special circumstances of their own dioceses. None of those under the Czar of Russia have come. His Tartar policy threw them into dungeons, where some died. Those that lived he sent to Siberia, some for their religion, some for being Poles. But among the bishops here every other nation of Europe has a full and strong representation. Besides all these, there are also forty-nine from the United States, eighteen or twenty from Canada and the British possessions of North America, and over forty from Mexico and the various states of South America. The eastern and the western shores of Africa have sent several; two have come from British Africa, at the south, and quite a number—among them a Coptic bishop from Egypt—represent the dioceses along the Mediterranean shores of Africa. All the ancient oriental rites of the church have patriarchs, archbishops, and bishops in the council; India, Thibet, China, Japan itself, Australia, New Zealand, and the isles of the Pacific are fully represented. Never before in the history of the world was there seen such a gathering of prelates from the uttermost parts of the earth. And the members who compose the council deserve individually special attention. They are chosen men, holding in their several homes posts of dignity, responsibility, and authority. The Catholic Church is in one aspect eminently democratic. She will take into the roll of her clergy men of every rank and station. She asks not what was their condition or their lineage. If a clergyman possess piety, learning, zeal, and administrative ability, the door is open for his preferment, even to her highest offices. If Pius IX. is noble born, his predecessor, Gregory XVI., was the son of a poor village baker, and owed his earliest education, and his entrance into the sanctuary, to the gratuitous kindness of a good monk, who was attracted by the bright eyes and intelligent look of the modest little boy, as he used to carry around to customers the loaves his father had baked. So too of these bishops. Some may be of lordly, or noble, or princely lineage. Others were born in humble, thatched cottages.Here they are equal. Some have doffed the ermine, some have quitted the bar, others left the army, where their names are still mentioned with praise and soldierly pride by their old companions in arms. Some have given up to younger brothers wealth and titles, that they might freely devote themselves to God's holy work. Some, filled with apostolic zeal, have given up friends and home and country to go to distant lands to preach Christ and him crucified; and some have been honored with chains and imprisonment and stripes for Christ's sake. They all pursued a long career of preparatory studies, they were afterward tried by long years of practice in the ministry, and have finally been chosen as qualified for their important and responsible positions. Differing, as they do, in language and nationalities and human feelings and prejudices, they have all the same faith, the same zeal, and have all come together at the summons of their common father. They all gather around the chair of Peter.

Well may the world look with wonder at such an assembly as this, containing so much of learning, such strength of character, such personal worth, wielding so much power over the minds and consciences of men, possessing such an intimate, practical knowledge of the whole world, of the good and the bad in it, and of the needs of men—an assembly every member of which has learned, by years of ministerial duty, to read, as no others can, the heart of man, and where all have come together with the same earnest purpose, and in the same singleness of heart, to confer candidly and frankly with each other, in order, with the aid and light of heavenly grace, to determine on such measures as shall best promote the glory of God, the interests of religion, and the spread of truth and virtue among men. Even to the man of the world, not to say to the Christian, can any thing be nobler or more worthy of respect than such a meeting? Must not every honest heart rejoice in the effort they will make, and wish them success?

But to the Catholic this œcumenical council has a higher character. We know that the church was founded not by man, but by Christ himself; that she stands, not by human learning or human wisdom and prudence, but by the power of God; that Christ is ever with her, that he has sent his Holy Spirit, the Spirit of truth, to abide with her for ever, to teach her all truth, to recall to her mind all things whatsoever he taught, and that so she is to us the pillar and ground of truth. We look back and see that in all the great emergencies of Christian truth, or rather emergencies of the world, it has been her custom to call together her bishops in councils like this. Thus, when Arianism arose, and the minds of simple men were thrown into confusion and perplexity concerning the divinity of the Saviour by the wily quotations of Scripture and the plausible teachings of error, the Council of Nice declared clearly and emphatically the original doctrine of the divinity of the Son; and guarded it by establishing the consecrated terms in which thenceforth Christian lips should express it. So, too, when Nestorius and Eutyches, and other later heresiarchs arose, other councils were held, solemnly setting forth the original doctrines received and held by the church, and pointing out and condemning the opposite errors. So, too, in the sixteenth century the Council of Trent met and gave to the world a full and clear statement of the Catholic doctrine of justification, so violently assailed by Luther and his followers and companions—a doctrine, by the way, which no small portion of those non-Catholics who still retain a belief in an actual divine revelation, now receive substantially and admit to be the only doctrine on that head reconcilable with reason and common sense.

So, too, in this nineteenth century, amid the confusing uncertainties of men, and the discordant clashing of opinions in the world, we turn with reverent hope, with fullest confidence in the words of the Saviour, and with grateful hearts and willing minds, to this first Œcumenical Council of the Vatican. We recognize in it the same authority which spoke at Nice, at Ephesus, and at Chalcedon, at Constantinople, at Lyons, and at the Lateran, and in Trent. We await thewords of its teaching and its precepts of discipline. For it will speak with authority. "It hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us."

Our readers are no doubt familiar with the chief antecedents of the council. It was in his address to the bishops assembled in Rome in June, 1867, to celebrate the centenary of St. Peter's martyrdom, that the Holy Father made the first public and official announcement of what had been for a short time before mooted and considered in private. It was his desire, at as early a day as circumstances would allow, to convene the bishops of the Catholic world in an œcumenical council. The prelates present, about five hundred in number, expressed their gratification and cordial assent. The attacks of the Garibaldians in November, 1867, if successful, would probably have frustrated the design. But under divine Providence it signally failed. Some thought that the bull of convocation would appear in December, 1867. But it was not published until the midsummer of 1868, and the council was summoned for December 8th, 1869. It was a solemn work. All felt that a most important day was approaching in the history of the church. Throughout the world, ever since, in every church and religious house, as often as the priest ascended the altar to celebrate the divine mysteries, or those vowed to the Lord assembled to sing his praises, petitions were offered unceasingly that God would bless the council, and give to the prelates such light and grace as would lead them to speak and act for his greater glory and the welfare of souls. As months rolled on and the time approached, clergy and faithful throughout the world united with redoubled fervor in triduums, novenas, and suitable religious exercises to obtain this special favor from Heaven.

In order that when the prelates should come, they might not be detained too long from their dioceses attending the council—as was the case at Trent—it was deemed advisable to establish preparatory committees of chosen theologians to study maturely such questions as it was thought would probably come up or be proposed in the council. In Rome, the centre of theological learning, there were eminent theologians in abundance from whom to choose. But it was felt that something more was needed. To erudition must be added an intimate knowledge of the modes of thought and the practical needs of the various nations; something which books alone cannot give. Hence, eminent theologians from France, Germany, England, Ireland, and other countries were invited, and sent to Rome as representative men of their respective countries. From the United States, the Very Rev. Dr. Corcoran, of Charleston, South Carolina, whom our bishops had learned to appreciate as secretary to our Second Plenary Council of Baltimore, was chosen for this purpose, and came to Rome fifteen months ago. The choice was a most happy one. He has won the esteem and respect of all by his simple and quiet dignity of manner, the vastness of his learning, and, more than all, by his sound judgment and practical good sense. I believe he stands in the council as one of the theologians to the pope. Five committees, thus formed of Roman and foreign theologians, each under the presidency of a cardinal, have for nearly a year and a half been engaged in an exhaustive study of the subjects most likely to come up. Their dissertations and essays on such points have been printed for the private use of the bishops, and being up to the day, must be of great use, and will naturally aid much in expediting business.

Other material preparations were necessary. The sessions of the council were to be held in the north arm of the Transept of St. Peter's—that which stretches toward the Vatican Palace. The place assigned had to be fitted up with appropriate decorations and suitable furniture. Other places were to be prepared for the general congregations—committees of the whole, as they would be termed in the United States—and for particular congregations, or special committees. Beyond this, many of the bishops who would desire to attend would be too poor to pay the exorbitant rates which landlords here and elsewhere know how to ask when a city iscrowded—as Rome would be—perhaps might be too poor to pay any thing. Such should be the guests of the Holy Father. He would provide for them. This was obviously the case with many of the Italian bishops. The kingdom of Italy has seized and turned over to the national treasury all ecclesiastical property, promising, as a partial compensation instead, to pay the clergy a stated stipend from the government. As might be expected from persons capable of committing such wholesale and barefaced robbery, the promise, in too many instances, has never been kept. I apprehend that the vast majority of the clergy of Italy are now managing to feed, clothe, and lodge themselves on an average of twenty cents a day. The number of such bishops from Italy, with others from the East, and from distant and very poor missions, may amount to one hundred and fifty or two hundred.

All this would cost money, and the pope himself, stripped of four fifths of the territory of the States of the Church, but not stripped, as yet, of the old public debt, the interest of which he is struggling to meet punctually, is poor. The earnest Catholics of every country knew his condition and poured in contributions for this purpose. Last autumn the papers announced that all due preparations were being actively pushed forward.

In October, bishops began to arrive. The first comers were from the East, who had set out early. In their countries men travel slowly, and time is not so precious. Perhaps, too, some thought they might be as long on the journey as their records and traditions said their predecessors had been four hundred years ago, when they came to the Council of Florence. The European and western bishops were better acquainted with the speed of railways and steamers, and began to pour in only in the latter portion of November. By the 1st of December, fully five hundred had arrived, and the week that followed saw two hundred more come in. Every courtesy was shown them. As a train crossed the frontier into the Pontifical States, an officer ascertained the names of all the bishops, telegraphed the information to Rome, and, on their arrival, they found other officials ready to welcome them, and to escort them in carriages to their several destinations. Their baggage, too, was exempt from custom-house inspection. This, however, was a favor scarcely confined to the Pontifical States. In more than one instance, bishops have passed from the United States, through England, France, and (strange contrast to 1867) even through Northern Italy, without having their trunks once opened. It were to be wished that the annoying and now useless system of passports were done away with. It has scarcely any advantage save that of giving fees to consuls and employees.

On December 2d, the Holy Father delivered to the bishops then in Rome, assembled in the Sixtine chapel, an allocution in preparation for the council; and they received printed copies of an apostolical letter, dated November 27th, settling some matters for the good order of the council, and the dispatch of business. Chapter i. reiterates the laws of the church, and enjoins on all the duty of living piously, and of carefully maintaining an exemplary demeanor. Chapter ii. declares the full liberty of each bishop to propose any matter which he thinks of importance. But that all things may be done in order, and without unnecessary confusion, and consequent delay of other matters, such propositions must be submitted in writing, must be supported by some show of reason, must be of a character to concern more than one or two dioceses only, and must not run counter to the constant sense and inviolable traditions of the church. A special committee shall be appointed by the pope to receive such propositions, and to consider whether they fulfil the required conditions, to report to the pope. The committee has since been appointed. The Archbishop of Baltimore is a member of it. Chapter iii. charges all to keep silence on the matters under discussion. The council will hardly be as leaky as Congress, and our readers will do well to pay little or no attentionto the thousand and one reports that will be circulated in the newspapers.[170]

Chapter iv. declares that the seats shall be occupied according to grades of the hierarchy, and seniority of promotion. Other chapters set forth the officials, secretaries, notaries, masters of ceremonies, etc.—a matter of obvious necessity under the circumstances; establish six general committees, the members of which are to be elected by ballot; and make known some points of order to be observed in the religious exercises of the public sessions and the general congregations; and finally enjoin on the bishops attending the council to remain until the close of it, forbidding any one to depart before such close, save with regular leave of absence, duly applied for and obtained.

With a copy of this letter the bishops also received pamphlets containing the forms of prayers to be used, and a detailed account of the ceremonial to be followed, all based on or extracted from the ceremonial of the ancient councils.

For the people little preparation had been made, or indeed could be made in the church. St. Peter's has no pews; you will not find even benches or chairs. On grand occasions, when the pope is celebrant, seats are placed in the arms of the transept, capable of holding six or eight thousand persons, who are admitted by ticket, and must come in the proper costume. They are chiefly occupied by ladies. But on this occasion one half of this space was required for the council. On the other hand, Rome would be full, and it was felt that not one twentieth of those who would desire, and indeed who would ordinarily be entitled to receive tickets for such reserved seats, could be accommodated. The gordian knot was cut by dispensing with reserved seats altogether, and leaving full play to the democratic principle offirst come, first served.

On Tuesday, Rome was in commotion, and given over to the mercies of free-trade in lodgings. Householders were waylaying strangers, striving to let their apartments at the highest possible rates. Strangers were wandering about seeking apartments which they might obtain on the lowest possible terms. Purchases were briskly made in preparation for the morrow. Everywhere, all day long, in carriages and on foot, and in all the different costumes of their several nations, might be seen bishops and priests passing to and fro, visiting the churches and the shrines of martyrs, or seeking out some friend of their youth, whom they had not seen, perhaps, for twenty-five or forty years, but who, they were told, had just arrived in Rome.

At noon precisely, the booming of the great bell of St. Peter's came over the Campus Martius and the seven hills of Rome. Instantly the thousand bells of the three hundred churches of the Eternal City answered in one united clamorous peal; and the cannon of St. Angelo, and the heavier metal of the new Aventine Fort, chimed in with the deep bass of a grand national salute. And thus, for an hour, was heralded the near approach of the great day. Again at nightfall the salute was repeated.

The morning of December 8th dawned—the Festival of the Immaculate Conception, and the day fixed for opening the council. A third repetition of the uproarious yet thrilling salutation awaked the sluggards, if there were any. We say if there were any; for although the clouds were hanging low and heavy, and the air was filled with mist, and at times the rain poured down, all Rome wasastir. By fiveA.M., the murmur of voices and the tramping of pedestrians filled every street, and soon the rolling of carriages over the hard pavements sounded like distant thunder. By sixA.M., tens of thousands were wending their way, despite the weather, to St. Peter's; and by seven, every eligible portion of the floor of the vast basilica was crowded. At half-past seven, the cardinals, archbishops, and bishops began to gather in the Vatican Palace, where they robed, putting on white copes and mitres, and then passed to the great hall at the front, and immediately over the vestibule of St. Peter's. Here the masters of ceremony assigned to each one his proper place, and they awaited the coming of the sovereign pontiff.

Punctual to the moment, he appeared. All knelt in prayer. In a clear and sonorous voice he intoned theVeni Creator Spiritus. The choir took up the strain, the bishops arose, and commenced to move in procession back to the Vatican Palace, through the ducal hall, down the unequalled Scala Regia, and into the vestibule of St. Peter's. Along the line the voice of chanting was heard. Without, the air was filled again with the sound of bells and the booming of cannon.

It was not like the grand processions on which Rome delights to look every year. The young orphan boys, with their snow-white dresses and angel faces, the various religious orders, Capuchins, Franciscans, Minor Observantists, Conventuals, Carmelites, Augustinians, Cistercians, Benedictines, Dominicans, and Canons Regular, in their varied and picturesque dresses, did not walk in it. There were no confraternities with their huge crosses, no groups of clergy from the many parish churches, no chapters of the ancient basilicas with their tent-like canopies and tolling bells. These appeared not in the ranks; but delegates from all of them formed lines on either side, between which, as guards, the prelates marched two and two, each one attended by his chaplain. It was a procession such as the world has seen but once before, and that six hundred years ago, at the Second Council of Lyons. First came the cross, surrounded with burning lights and clouds of incense from the censers, and a group of ecclesiastics attached to the Vatican and to St. Peter's. On came the long white line of mitred abbots, bishops, archbishops, primates, patriarchs, and cardinals, slowly moving, joining in the chanted hymn, or else with subdued voices reciting psalms and prayers. The hall, the grand stairway, and the vestibule were packed by thousands who despaired of being able to enter the church, and hoped at least to look on the procession. All eyes seemed to scrutinize the line of prelates with reverent curiosity. Some in the line had not yet lost the smoothness of their cheeks. They had not yet closed their eighth lustre. The great majority had passed the half-century of life. Labors, cares, and study had brought furrows to many a brow and many a cheek; gray hairs had come, often prematurely; but the firm step told of still unexhausted strength. Their faces, full of intellect and decision, told of long and sturdy labor in the vineyard; you felt they could still bear the heat of the day and the brunt of labor. Many of them, too, far more than the younger ones, were aged and venerable prelates, who, like the rest, had come at the summons of the chief pastor. But when they should have borne their testimony to the faith in this council, they would soon say,Nunc dimittis.

It was a glorious line. The spectators, of every nation, looked to recognize the bishops each of his own land. They pointed out and whispered to each other the names of those who had won for themselves a world-wide reputation in the church, and looked with special attention on the oriental prelates, scattered here and there through the line, robed, not like those of the Latin rite, in unadorned white copes and white linen mitres, but in richly ornamented chasubles or copes of oriental fashion, glittering with gold and precious stones and bright colors, and wearing on their heads tiaras radiant with gems. On they passed, Italians, Greeks, Germans, Persians, Syrians, Hungarians, Spanish and Copt, Irish and French, Scotch and Brazilian, Mexican and English,American and Chinese, Canadian and South American and Australian; abbots, bishops, archbishops, primates, and patriarchs.

Next came the cardinals—the senate of the church. If before you saw the strength of the church, here you looked on the embodiment of intelligence and wisdom, in the most venerable body in the world. Spotless purity of life, brilliant talents, long study, a longer experience of men and affairs in a series of responsible offices worthily filled—a thorough devotion of all their powers to the interests of religion, have led them to this dignity—Antonelli, Bilio, Bonnechose, Cullen, Schwartzenberg, Hohenlohe, Barnabo, Pitra, Patrizi—every one seemed worthy of, and to receive, special homage as they slowly moved on.

But even they were forgotten as the Holy Father approached. Surrounded by his chaplains and attendants, by Swiss guards in their picturesque costume, designed, it is said, with an eye to effect, by Michael Angelo himself, and by the Roman noble guard in their richest uniforms, he came borne, according to the old Roman custom which has come down from the times of the republic, in a curule chair, such as ediles and senators were borne in; such as that which the convert Senator Pudens appropriated to the Apostle St. Peter, which he and many of his successors used, and which is still preserved with care and veneration in St. Peter's. Pius IX. is, we believe, really eighty-one years of age. He is still robust, wonderfully so for that age. His countenance beams still with that paternal benevolence which has such power to charm. None ever looked on him without feeling it. No one, Catholic or Protestant, Israelite, Turk, or infidel, ever left his presence without carrying away a sense of reverence, and sweet memories of a blessing received. All knelt as he was borne by, blessing them on either side. In his train followed other attendants and the superiors of religious orders, who enter the council, but are not privileged to wear mitres. Conspicuous among them was the thin, ascetic, fleshless form of the superior-general of the Jesuits, in black—the little black pope, as they call him in Rome.

Meanwhile the head of the procession has long since reached the grand portals of the Basilica. From the door to the central line of the transept is about four hundred feet, and the nave of the church is about ninety-five feet wide. All this space is crowded with people standing so jammed together that there is not room to kneel, if one wished. Back on either side, under the broad arches, and into the side aisles, the vast mass of humanity extends. The bases of the columns and piers are seen to rise to the level of their heads, and, guided by this measure, the eye, for once, catches at a glance the immense proportions of this gigantic building. The partition which cuts off a portion of the transept for the special use of the council is not seen from the nave, and the church stands before you in all the grandeur of its architecture, unchanged for better or for worse by those vast masses of drapery and those lines of galloon, and the hundreds of immense chandeliers which sometimes are placed here to adorn it. To the Roman eye, familiar with every detail of the building, such an adornment may be pleasing as a change. But strangers love to see St. Peter's as they see it now, in its own native beauty and majesty. The eye loves to pass from the noble columns and the statues of pure Carrara to the unfading mosaics, the variegated marbles of the walls and piers, the ornaments in sculptured relief, the richly-wrought capitals, the vast line of cornice of classic accuracy, and the lofty arched ceiling, one hundred and fifty feet and more overhead, profusely decorated with panelling, roses, and richest gilding. It travels on to the main altar with its hundred ever-burning lamps around the tomb of the great apostle of Rome, and the spiral columns and canopy of bronze which rise full ninety feet above it. And hundreds of feet further away, in the western apsis, you catch a view of the bronze statues of the four great doctors of the church, who support the identical chair of St. Peter, and of the circular window of stained glass through which the HolyDove seems to pour in a stream of golden light, giving life and heavenly beauty to that other flood which pours down into the church from the lofty dome.

Guards had kept free for the procession a passage-way through the crowd, from the door to the main altar. Up this lane the bishops walked with uncovered heads, for the blessed sacrament was exposed on the altar. Kneeling a moment in adoration, they arose, and, turning to the right, passed into the space set aside and prepared for the council hall. To each one, as he entered, his proper place was assigned by the masters of ceremony. The greater part were so placed, when a fuller burst of the choir told us that the Holy Father had reached the portals of the church, had been received by the chapter of canons, and was entering. He left the curule chair and doffed his mitre; for a greater than he is here enthroned, and even the pope must walk with uncovered head. He, and the cardinals with him, knelt at the main altar as the bishops had done, and waited until the last strophe of the hymn,Veni Sancte Spiritus, was finished by the choir. He arose, chanted the versicle and prayer to the Holy Ghost, and then, preceded by the cardinals, also entered the council hall. They passed each to his proper place, the pontiff to aprie Dieuprepared for him in the middle, to await the commencement of the high mass.

We have said that this council hall occupies nearly all of the northern arm of the great transept. That arm alone is over two hundred feet long, and ninety-five feet broad. Its northern extremity is a semi-circular apsis, and midway of its length it is crossed by the northern aisle of the church, which opens into it by a lofty and wide arch on either side. These arches are now closed at the top by temporary partition walls. In front—that is, on the south, toward the main altar and nave—another partition wall, perhaps fifty feet high, shuts the hall off from the main body of the building. All these walls are exquisitely colored, so as to correspond even in minute details with the decorations and color of the marbles of the church. In the last-named wall is a large doorway, fully twenty feet wide, through which the prelates and cardinals and the pontiff have passed in. It is open now, (though when necessary it can be closed,) and you may look in and see the interior arrangement. In the further extremity, the semi-circular apsis, a number of steps rise to a platform, in the middle of which other steps lead to the throne of the pontiff, surmounted by a canopy with hanging drapery. On either hand, elevated one step less, are placed the cardinals, before each one a kneeling-stand, which may be changed into a writing-desk. Before the cardinals, and a little lower, sit the patriarchs. Down either side of the hall, for the full length, run seven rows of benches with high backs. The front row is on the floor, the others rising as they recede, so that the last one next the wall is about the same level with the platform. In the middle, about one fifth of the way from the door, with its face toward the pope and the bishops, and its back toward the door stands a temporary altar prepared for the mass, with which every public session and every general congregation will commence. Here and there, on the floor, are seats and tables for the use of the secretaries, notaries, stenographers, and other officials. Of the altar we need not speak. It is simple though rich in materials, and without accessory ornamentation, which would take up space and impede the view. The platform is covered, as is the floor, with Brussels carpeting. The seats of the cardinals are covered with red damask; those of the patriarchs with purple. The seats of the bishops are covered with Brussels tapestry of a greenish hue. They are roomy. Each bishop uses the back of the seat before him as aprie Dieuwhen he kneels. Should he at other times wish to write, there is a table hinged to it in front of him, which he may raise up and render firm by a movable support. When he is done, he simply moves back the support and lets down the table to its former position. All is simple, yet very satisfactory. There is, near at hand, a refreshment room, and, indeed, every convenience that is needed. The artistic decorationsof the hall also deserve attention. They are not many, but are excellent and appropriate, and were prepared, of course, for this occasion. Over the doorway, as you are about to enter from the church, there is a majestic painting of the Saviour enthroned in the clouds, holding the Gospel open in his left hand, while the right is stretched forth in command to the apostles. Underneath is the inscription, "Go, teach all nations. I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world." In the interior of the hall, over the seat of the pope, is a painting of the Descent of the Holy Ghost. On either side are the Council of the Apostles at Jerusalem, and the Councils of Nice, of Ephesus, and of Trent. Higher up are large medallion paintings of the twenty-two popes who called or presided personally or by legates over the various œcumenical councils of the church; while higher still are colossal figures of the four great doctors of the church, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St. Jerome, and St. John Chrysostom. All the seats we have mentioned are for the prelates and officials. There are several galleries opening through the wall rather than projecting forward. On the left of the pope, as he is seated, is one for the singers of the Sistine chapel. On his right is another, to be occupied by sovereigns and members of royal families. The Empress of Austria, the Queen of Würtemberg, and the King of Naples were present at the opening. Another much larger one, on the side of the singers, is for the diplomatic corps. It was filled with ambassadors in their state uniforms, with full display of jewelled decorations. Two other similar galleries are for the theologians.

The council hall, as we have described it, is about two hundred feet long and nearly one hundred feet broad. The ceiling above is that of the transept; like that of the nave, arched, panelled, and decorated with gilding, and is one hundred and fifty feet above you. The seemingly low partition wall in front shuts out the view of the lower portions of the church, but you have a full view of the upper half of the columns and piers, with their statues and decorations, and of the cornice and lofty-arched ceiling, and above all, of the magnificent dome, with its mosaics of the evangelists and the angelic host. You see and feel all the time that you are in St. Peter's. But there are drawbacks. The size of the hall, the height of the ceiling, and, perhaps more than either, this want of disconnection from the church, render it impossible for any but the strongest voices with eminently clear enunciation to fill it and be understood. Weak, and even moderate voices, are simply inaudible to the majority. As things are now arranged, discussion would seem impossible, and already there is talk of changes which may have to be indicated in our next article. But let us return to the pope and the bishops, whom we left awaiting the commencement of the pontifical high mass. This should have been celebrated by Cardinal Mattei, the dean of the body. But his age and infirmities are too great to permit so great an exertion. Accordingly, the next in rank, Cardinal Patrizi, took his place, and was the celebrant. The pontiff approached the altar with him, recited theJudicaand theConfiteor, and then retired to his own seat, and the cardinal ascended to the altar and continued the mass. The music was that of Palestrina, executed by the papal choir as they alone can sing, and without any instrumental accompaniment. Such voices as theirs need none. Just before the last gospel, a portable pulpit was brought out near the altar; Mgr. Passavalli, Archbishop of Iconium, ascended it, wearing cope and mitre, and preached the introductory sermon. It was in Latin—the language of the council—and occupied just forty minutes. It has since been published, and the reader will not fail to recognize and admire the eloquence and fervor of his thoughts and the elegance of his Latinity. But no pages can give an idea of the clear, ringing voice, the musical Italian intonations, and the dignified and impressive, almost impassioned gesture of the truly eloquent Capuchin. The sermon over, the pope gave the solemn blessing, the Gospel of St. John was recited, and the mass was over.

The altar being now clear, the attendants brought in a rich, throne-like stand, and placed it on the altar in the centre. Monsignor Fessler, secretary of the council, attended by his assistant, brought in procession a large book of the Gospels, elegantly bound, and reverently placed it on the throne. It was the place due to the inspired record of the life and teachings of our divine Lord—a ceremony touching and most appropriate at the opening of a council of his followers, assembled in his name, to declare and vindicate his teaching, and promote and carry out the commission he gave them.

The Holy Father then assumed his full pontifical robes. The cardinals and all the prelates, in their proper order, then approached, one by one, to pay him homage, kissing his hand or the stole he wore. Their numbers made it a long ceremony. It told of the union of all with the head of the church.

This over, all knelt while the pontiff chanted the sublime prayer,Adsumus, Domine. Solemn and subdued were the chantedamensof the entire assembly.

Four chanters next intoned the litany of the saints in the well-known varying minor strains of Gregorian chant. Most impressive were the responses made by the united voices of the fathers. But when, at the proper time, the pope rose to his feet, and, holding the cross of his authority in his left hand, replaced the chanters, and raising his streaming eyes to heaven, and in his own majestic and sonorous tones, trembling just enough to tell how deeply his great heart was moved, thrice prayed our divine Lord to bless, to preserve, to consecrate this council, tears flowed from many an eye. All were intensely moved, and not bishops alone, but the crowds of clergy outside, and thousands of the laity, joined, again and again, in the response,Te rogamus, audi nos. Then, if never before, St. Peter's was filled with the mighty volume of sound. Back it came to us from arch and chapel, from aisle and lofty nave and transept,Te rogamus, audi nos. We seemed to hear it murmured even from the aerial dome, as if the angels repeated the words as they bore the petition to heaven,Te rogamus, audi nos.

The chanters resumed, the litany was terminated, and the pope recited the prayers that follow it. Cardinal Borromeo then, acting as deacon, chanted the Gospel taken from Luke x., narrating the mission of the disciples. He used the volume that had been enthroned on the altar. When he concluded, the volume was carried back as before, and reverently replaced on the throne. The assembly were seated, and the Holy Father, himself seated and wearing his mitre, delivered a discourse or allocution full, as all his discourses are, of unction, and replete with the thoughts and words of divine inspiration.

At the conclusion of this discourse all knelt, and the Holy Father again intoned theVeni Creator Spiritus. The choir took it up, and the members of the council responded in the alternate strophes. The pope sang the versicles and prayer that follow it, and all again were seated.

The secretary now mounted the pulpit and read aloud the first proposed decree, "That this Holy Vatican Council be, and is now opened." The fathers all answered,Placet; the pope gave his sanction; the formal decree was passed and proclaimed, and the notaries instructed to make an official record of it.

A second decree was similarly proposed, voted, and sanctioned, fixing the second public session for the festival of the Epiphany, January 6th, 1870. The first general congregation was announced for Friday, December 10th, in the same hall of the council.

This closed the proceedings of the first public session, which necessarily were purely formal. The Holy Father arose and intoned the solemnTe Deumof thanksgiving. The choir—the unrivalled one of the Sixtine chapel—took up the strain, intertwining the melody with subdued but artistic harmonies. The assembled bishops, the clergy without, thousands of the laity, familiar from childhood with the varying strains of its Gregorian chant, responded with one accord, in the second verse of the grand old Ambrosian hymn. The choir sang the third verse as before, the crowd respondedwith the fourth, and so on they alternated to the end. It is impossible to tell in words the thrilling power of such a union of voices. It moved, overcame, subdued one. It was impossible to resist it if you would. Tears came unbidden to the eye, and the lip quivered as you instinctively united your voice to that of the multitude. No one sought to make himself heard, all united in those subdued, thrilling tones in which the heart speaks. Catholic and Protestant all felt it. Even the infidel for the time believed, and, bowing his head, joined in this praise and thanksgiving to God.

At half-past two, theTe Deumwas finished, and the services closed. The Holy Father unrobed, and withdrew with his attendants. But it was past three ere all the bishops could issue from the hall and leave the church. The crowds looked on as they slowly departed, their own numbers long remaining seemingly undiminished. Many could not tear themselves away from the hallowed spot. The shades of evening found hundreds still lingering there, contemplating the place where they had seen the hierarchy of the church gathered around the chief pastor, or kneeling in prayer at the tomb of the great apostle to whom our Lord said, "On this rock I will build my church."

Since the day of the opening session, two general congregations have been held. The chief work has been to organize and elect members for the various committees. Where all are desirous of having the best men on these committees, the bishops seem to consider it well to proceed slowly, until they gain an acquaintance with each other, which will enable them to act with greater knowledge. Meanwhile they are evidently studying up the matters before them. What those subjects are, no one outside their body appears as yet to know. They are remarkably reticent, and so far have not been "interviewed" by newspaper reporters.

It is thought the council must last several months. But at the present stage not even the prelates themselves can form more than a vague conjecture on this head. It may be that a month will throw light on the subject. In that case, we may be able to speak more definitely in our next article on the council.

Rome, Dec. 15, 1869.

The renowned Captain Dugald Dalgetty, that redoubtable man of war, orthodoxy, andprovant, firmly held and was known occasionally to express the opinion that Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, was the Lion of the North and thebulwark of Protestantism. In so far as the 'bulwark' was concerned, that clever soldado merely reflected the estimate of the Swedish hero held by the contemporary Protestant world—an estimate still clung to by the same world of the nineteenth century. That opinion and that estimate have lately received fatal injury in the house of their friends. For thus has it come about. Catholic historians have never hesitated to state that the facts bore them out in claiming that the governing motive of Gustavus Adolphus in taking the important part he did in the Thirty Years' War, was not religious enthusiasm, nor even a religious motive; but on the contrary one that was far from possessing any greater elevation than self-interest and political advantage. So thought and wrote Hurter and other Catholic authors. Of course these authors were not listened to in the Protestant world any more than were vindications of Mary, Queen of Scots, until they began to come from Protestant pens. But in the course ofa few succeeding years no less than four distinguished Protestant historians—Klopp, Barthold, Leo, and Gfrörer, (who afterward became a Catholic,) fully confirmed all that Hurter had advanced. And now, within the past three months we have a new historical work on Gustavus Adolphus, from the pen of another Protestant—Professor G. Droysen—an eminent name in German literature—which certainly appears to place the question of motive on the part of the king of Sweden beyond further controversy. Professor Droysen's work is written not so much as a biography as with special reference to the political necessities and ambition of the Swedish king when he interfered in the German struggle, and is written, also, mainly with materials from the Swedish archives. The result of Professor Droysen's research is not only to more than confirm the position assumed by Hurter, but to leave no room for serious discussion. Professor Droysen expressly denies that the interference of Gustavus Adolphus in the affairs of Germany was in favor of the liberty of conscience and religion, and he quite as explicitly asserts that motives purely political decided and even forced him to put forward those pretexts.

Aux Incrédules et aux Croyants. L'Athée redevenu Chrétien. Ouvrage posthume de M. Delauro Dubez, Conseiller à la Cour de Montpellier.Paris, 1869. The author was judge of the court of appeals at Montpellier, and until his sixty-fourth year lived an irreligious life. His conversion was the result of reflection, and he wrote this book solely for the sake of one of his relatives who had refused to read any thing favorable to Christianity. The work is preceded by an opinion of Rev. M. Foulquier, Superior of the Seminary of Rodez, and by a letter from a Polish officer brought back to the Catholic faith by its perusal.

A late number of theTheologisches Literaturblatt, published at Bonn, contains an excellent review by Professor Aberle of Tübingen of a remarkable work on the year of our Saviour's birth—Das Geburtsjahr Christi. Geschichtlich-Chronologische Untersuchungen von A. M. Zumpt.The same number also has an admirable notice, by Professor Hefele, of Kampschulte's new work on Calvin,Johann Calvin. Seine Kirche und sein Staat in Genf.

San Tommaso, Aristotele, e Dante, ovvexo della prima filosofia Italiana.Firenze, 1869. In 4to. The Marquis Palermo in this work shows philosophy and science traversing the middle ages under the protection of the clergy, and particularly of St. Thomas. He specially dwells upon the purely Christian character of the philosophy set forth by Dante in his divine comedy.

Le Monde et l'Homme Primitif selon la Bible, par Monseigneur Meignan, Evêque de Chalons sur Marne.The right reverend author expresses the opinion that, in our day, one of the causes of the weakening of faith in divine revelation is certainly the false idea formed of the Bible in connection with the sciences. In this respect times have greatly changed, and opinion has passed from one extreme to the other. Formerly, no important discovery was made without seeking to confirm its truth by Scripture testimony. The support of a text, of a word, was then necessary, even if they had to be slightly wrested from their received acceptation. Galileo undertook to prove his theory by Bible texts badly interpreted. But the contrary course now prevails to such an extent that there exists almost an affectation of contradicting the Scriptures. The author takes up the six days of the Mosaic account of the creation, the six days being six indeterminate periods of time—illustrating each day with modern scientific views of the unity of the human race, the primitive unity of language, Chaldean and Egyptian chronology, etc. On the unity of the human race the right reverend author insists with some emphasis—as indeed he well may, recognizing in it, as we all must, the well-established doctrine of the Catholic Church—and takes occasion to address himself specially to Americans of theUnited States on the subject of the man of dusky hue. "Let us not forget," he says, "that he is a child of the same God, a descendant of Adam, having the same faculties, the same soul, the same heart; that the unity of the human species has made him our equal, and the Gospel our brother." The work evidences great research and learning, especially on the subject of the primitive unity of language, where the author shows entire familiarity with all the results of modern treatise and investigation from Bopp down to Ewald and Delitsch.

We are aware that Bohemian and Hungarian literature has but few attractions for the very great majority of readers in the United States. Nevertheless, it may not be uninteresting to note that in Bohemia, as in Hungary, there exists a general awakening of interest in their respective national literatures. In both these countries many talented authors are coming into notice, who confine their literary labors to their mother tongue. Palacky in Bohemia has lately won high praise as a historian, even in Germany and France. Besides hisHistory of Bohemia, he has lately written several works on the historical period of John Huss.

Of these the most important is Palacky'sDocumenta mag. Joannis Hus vitam, doctrinam, causam spectantia. Divided into four parts, the first includes all the letters of Huss in Latin and in Tcheck, the latter accompanied by a Latin translation by Professor Kviezala; the second part gives the trial of Huss; the third, an account of his trial and death by a contemporary, Peter Mladenowicz; and the fourth, the largest, all the documents relative to the religious controversies of Bohemia from 1403 to 1418. In all cases the Tcheck documents are accompanied by Latin translations. While on the subject of Bohemian literature, it may be well to mention that the best general work upon it is that of M. Hanusch,[171]late librarian of the University of Prague. For the bibliography of the literature, the most complete work is that of Jungmann, written in Tcheck. For literature proper, the best is perhaps that of Sabina, which, however, only comes down to the seventeenth century. Sabina's work may be said to be completed by that of M. Sembera—Histoire de la langue et de la littérature Tcheque, the third edition of which is lately published at Vienna.

On the subject of baptism, or baptismal water, Dr. Heino Pfaffenschmid publishes a work[172]in which he undertakes to show that baptism was a custom of both Jewish and pagan rites before the introduction of Christianity.

We see announced a work by Dr. J. H. Tomassen on the age of the human race,Enthüllungen aus der Urgeschichte; oder, Existirt das Menschengeschlecht nur 6000 Jahre?There is a slight dash of charlatanism in the title, calculated to make one suspicious of the book.

Professor Döllinger, of Munich, has in press a new work, entitled,The Religious Sects of the Middle Ages.

TheChronology of the Roman Pontiffs during the last three Centuries, by Professor Lipsius, of Kiel, is announced as nearly ready for publication.

Volumes xiii. xiv. and xv. of the reprint of the continuation of theHistoire Littéraire de France, commenced by the Benedictines, are lately published by Palmé, Paris.

The following important works are announced as soon to appear: Volume xviii. of the reprint of theAnnales Ecclesiasticiof Cardinal Baronius, issued under the direction of Father Theiner. The first volume of a magnificent edition of the Bible, printed at Rome, at the expense of the Propaganda. This edition reproduces textually, with afac-simile, the famousCodex Vaticanus. The present volume contains the Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua. Thefifth volume, containing the New Testament, was printed last year.

The work of Cardinal Jacobatius, entitledDe Concilio, is also in press at Rome, and will be printed as an introduction to the great work forming a collection of all the councils.

A decided success in historic literature is the latest work on Calvin and his times,[173]by F. W. Kampschulte, professor of history at the University of Bonn. The first of its three volumes has appeared, and meets with almost universal approbation. The author appears to have spared no labor, and has brought to light fresh and valuable authorities. The manuscripts, mostly for the first time used, far out-number the printed works referred to. Heretofore, the archives of Geneva have been considered sufficient to furnish material for a life of Calvin. But Professor Kampschulte rightly judged that, in view of the intimate connection between Geneva and Berne during Calvin's life, the archives of the latter city must be rich in documents for his purpose. A similar reason induced him to visit Strasburg, and both places yielded largely in fresh and important matter. For Calvin's correspondence, previous historians have contented themselves with Beza's edition of theEpistolæ et Responsa Calvini, or with Bonnet's collection. Professor Kampschulte, with indefatigable research, has succeeded in gathering a large number of Calvin's letters, heretofore unpublished, which he found scattered in every direction. In this he was greatly aided by MM. Reuss, Cunitz, and Baum, of Strasburg, who for many years past have been making a collection of the letters of Calvin for a new edition of theEpistolæin theCorpus Reformatorum. With a liberality deserving all praise, these scholars generously placed all this valuable material at Professor Kampschulte's disposition.

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