THE CHRIST OF AUSFELDT.

There were, doubtless, other causes than these which rendered this great schism so easy of accomplishment. The ambition of the bishops of Constantinople led them to be always on the lookout for a plausible pretext for a quarrel with Rome. Then the Greeks felt deeply two great changes in Europe—the loss of their dominion in Italy, and the reëstablishment, as itis called, of the empire of the west, for both of which they chiefly blamed the popes. This feeling made them support without any very close examination the cause of the bishops of the imperial city. Then the memory of Photius was revered as one of the great names of New Rome. We must add, in conclusion, the universal effeminacy and corruption which has left an indelible stain upon the unworthy successors of Constantine and Theodosius, and given to their government the opprobrious but emphatic name of the Low Empire.

But no honest man, much less no churchman, can find in these causes any excuse or palliation for schism. Nor can such cause be found in the personal relations of either Photius or Cerularius with the holy see, much less in the earlier history of the church of Constantinople, as the facts collected from authentic documents related in these pages, we think, sufficiently show.

The popular hatred of the Greeks against the Latins was doubtless aggravated by the establishment of the Latin empire of Constantinople. Yet it was the first sovereign of the restored Greek empire that opened negotiations for a reunion of the churches. It is not for us to decide whether Michael Palæologus was influenced by motives of interest or of religion; probably both had their weight with him. In answer to his application, Pope Clement IV. sent a profession of faith according to the ancient formula, promising to call a general council to cement the union, provided the Greeks would consent beforehand to accept and sign this profession. Gregory X. did call the council, (A.D.1272) for the triple purpose of the union of the churches, aid to the Christians struggling in the Holy Land, and the reformation of discipline. He sent nuncios to the Greek emperor and the Patriarch of Constantinople, inviting them to the synod, and received a favorable answer from the former. The council was opened at Lyons on May 7th, 1274. There were five hundred bishops present; the pontiff presided in person. It lasted three months, and six sessions were held. At the third, the Greek representatives appeared. Solemn high mass was celebrated by the pope, at which theCredowas sung in Latin and Greek, the Greeks repeating thrice the words, "Who proceedeth from the Father and the Son." At the next session were read the letters of the Greek emperor and prelates. Both contained most satisfactory statements of their faith in the primacy of the holy see by divine right over the whole church. The prelates, moreover, informed his holiness that, as the Patriarch Joseph had opposed the union, they had requested him to withdraw into a monastery, to await the result of the council, and that, if he should refuse to accept it, they would depose him and elect another patriarch. Then the representatives of the emperor, and those of the prelates, in the name of their principals, solemnly abjured the schism, acknowledged the supremacy of the Roman see, and took an oath never again to infringe on it. A synodical decree was passed defining the Catholic doctrine on the procession of the Holy Ghost, condemning those who deny that he proceeds from the Father and the Son, as well as those who assert that he proceeds from them as fromtwo principles, notone principle. The Greeks were then dismissed with great honor, carrying with them congratulatory letters to the emperor and the prelates.

But this union did not last long. Palæologus did indeed cause Joseph to be deposed, and John Veccus to be elected to the see of Constantinople.He also endeavored to enforce the decree of union by severe penalties against the recusants, and a synod was celebrated by the patriarch, in which the union was accepted. But the clergy and the people obstinately opposed any communion with the Latins; the same feeling prevailed in the emperor's household; and at last he abandoned what he appears to have considered a hopeless task. He was excommunicated in 1281, by Pope Martin IV., for favoring heresy and schism. He, however, protested his sincerity, and on his death was refused Christian burial by his son and successor, Andronicus, for the part he had taken in the union of the churches. The schism was thus reopened, and the work of the Council of Lyons produced no further fruit.

But when the Turks had reduced the domain of the empire almost to the walls of Constantinople, the wily and faithless Greeks again turned their eyes westward, and offered reunion in the hope of obtaining succor. It were foreign to our purpose to trace the history of the controversy between Pope Eugenius IV. and the Council of Bâle. Suffice it to say, that, to facilitate the coming of the Greeks, who wished to meet in a city near the Adriatic, he transferred the council to Ferrara. On February 7th, 1438, the eastern fleet arrived at Venice, bearing the Emperor John Palæologus, Joseph, Patriarch of Constantinople, the proctors of the other eastern patriarchs, the Metropolitan of Russia, and a great number of metropolitans, bishops, abbots, and other dignitaries of the Greek Church. They were received with extraordinary pomp and splendor. Thence they went to Ferrara, where they arrived in the beginning of March. The council opened on April 9th. A delay of four months was agreed on, to enable the bishops of the Western Church to take part in the proceedings. Meanwhile, informal conferences were held on the questions of purgatory, and the beatitude of the saints before the final day of judgment. It was easily shown that the differences between the two churches were merely verbal, and did not affect the dogma. The first solemn session was held on October 8th, which was followed by fifteen others in regular order. In December, the council was transferred to Florence, on account of the appearance of the plague at Ferrara. Nine sessions were held at Florence, at the end of which the act of union was solemnly adopted and promulgated.

There is scarcely any thing more interesting in the history of general councils than the records of the discussions so long and so ably carried on in this synod. It is a common supposition that the Latins resorted to bribery and threats, the Greeks to chicanery and bad faith, and thus an understanding was arrived at. Nothing could be further from the truth, as the acts of the synod prove. Point after point was discussed with marked ability on both sides, and with peculiar skill and pertinacity on the part of the Greeks. At last, all, with the exception of Mark, Archbishop of Ephesus, yielded either to unanswerable arguments or to clear explanations, and then, all difficulties being removed, the union was agreed to. It is, of course, impossible in the brief space of an article to relate these discussions in detail. We shall briefly refer to the principal point in dispute.

This was the addition offilioquein the creed. The Latins insisted on separating from the beginning the two distinct points of dogma and discipline. They asked the Greeks, first, if they believed that the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son, as from one principle ofspiration.They showed them that the fathers of the Greek, as well as those of the Latin church, had always taught this doctrine. There was a great deal of finessing on the part of the Greeks; they examined their own copies of the fathers, and found that they had been correctly quoted by the other side; and, at last, confessed that they had been wrong in accusing the Western Church of error. The disciplinary question was argued with a great deal of vigor. The Greeks, of course, alleged the celebrated canon of the Council of Ephesus, prohibiting any addition to the symbol. The Latin answer may be summed up thus: This canon prohibits any addition by private authority. Butfilioquewas added by the authority of the head of the church. Again, the canon prohibits any additioncontraryto the doctrine of the symbol; but this addition is an explanation and a complement of the doctrine of Nice, and the very words (and from the Son) have been taken from orthodox fathers. Lastly, the addition was not made lightly or without cause; but a real necessity existed for it. Finally, all the Greeks, but Mark of Ephesus, returned this answer: "We consent that you recite the addition to the symbol, and that it has been taken from the holy fathers; and we approve it, and are united with you; and we say that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son, as from one principle and cause."

This point being satisfactorily settled, the other mooted questions were soon adjusted, and on July 6th, 1439, the act of union was read in solemn session, in Latin by Cardinal Julian, and in Greek by Bessarion, Archbishop of Nice, who had been the leaders on either side in the discussion. It is in the name of "Eugenius, bishop, servant of the servants of God, with the consent of the most serene emperor, and of the other patriarchs." The pope, "with the approbation of the sacred universal Council of Florence," defines, first, the dogma of the eternal procession of the Holy Ghost from Father and Son, as from one principle, and by one spiration; secondly, "that the explanatory words,and from the Son, were lawfully and reasonably added to the symbol, for the sake of declaring the truth, and by reason of imminent necessity;" thirdly, that both leavened and unleavened bread is lawful matter for the eucharist, and that priests must follow the rite of their own church—those of the western, that of the western; those of the eastern, that of the eastern; fourthly, the question of the different states of souls after death was settled according to the received doctrine which is now professed in the Catholic Church. We give the fifth section entire: "That the holy apostolic see and the Roman pontiff doth hold primacy over the whole earth, and that he is the successor of the blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and true vicar of Christ, and head of the whole church, and is the father and teacher of all Christians; and that to him, in the person of the blessed Peter, hath been delivered, by our Lord Jesus Christ, the full power of feeding, ruling, and governing the universal church, as is contained in the acts of œcumenical councils and in the sacred canons." Lastly, the decree reorganizing the canonical order of patriarchs assigns the second place, after the Roman pontiff, to the patriarch of Constantinople, the third to the patriarch of Alexandria, the fourth to the patriarch of Antioch. A few more questions of minor importance were then proposed to the Greeks, to most of which they gave satisfactory replies, and soon afterward the emperor and his prelates returned home by way of Venice.

The difficulty aboutfilioquehas just been renewed by Mr. Ffoulkes, of England, in defence of some notion of his about a hybridunited, notonechurch. We scarcely think he will succeed in making good an objection which Bessarion and Mark of Ephesus failed to sustain. Any how, his thesis appears to be, not that any one "branch" of the church is entirely in the right, but that they are all partly in the wrong. Perhaps he thinks that to him, not to F. Hyacinthe, has the Lord given these sticks, to warm in his bosom, purify, and finally reunite. We must leave them to settle the question between themselves. But they ought to remember, with St. Jerome, that he who gathereth not with the pope, scattereth.

Great hopes were entertained that the union perfected after such long and free discussions would be lasting. But these were all disappointed. Of all the obscure questions connected with the Greek schism, the most obscure is how and when the compact of Florence was first violated in the east. It is certain that Metrophanes, elected Patriarch of Constantinople on the return of the Greek prelates, (as the Patriarch Joseph had died at Florence,) solemnly published the act of union.[180]His successor, Gregory, was equally devoted to the council, and before his elevation, defended its action against the attacks of Mark of Ephesus. This proud and turbulent man did not remain quiet under his defeat, but addressed most inflammatory letters to the orientals, making the vilest and most unfounded accusations, not only against the pope and the Latin bishops, but against his own colleagues. Though these were refuted by Gregory before mentioned, and by Joseph, Bishop of Mothon, they no doubt made a great impression on the prejudiced, nay, jaundiced oriental mind. Mark, however, did not dare to publish his attacks until after the death of John Palæologus, (A.D.1448.)[181]A most extraordinary and shameful political intrigue appears to have come to the aid of the schismatical party. The Turk at this period was making his arrangements for the final attack on Constantinople. The only hope for the doomed city was in aid from the west. To prevent the sending of this seasonable aid, it was the obvious policy of the Mussulman to render void the union of Florence. Hence, in 1443, just ten years before the fall of New Rome, a synod was held at Jerusalem, composed entirely of bishops of sees under Turkish domination, among whom are numbered the patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, in which the act of union was declared impious. Metrophanes was adjudged to be an intruder into the see of Constantinople, and all ecclesiastics ordained by him were deposed, full power being given to the Metropolitan of Cæsarea to enforce this sentence in all dioceses under the jurisdiction of the council—that is, wherever the crescent had supplanted the cross.[182]Is it any wonder that, ten years after, the Turks were masters of the city of Constantine?

No one, not even a modern Greek, would attempt to maintain that the assemblage at Jerusalem was a legitimate council. The schismatics, however, allege a council said to have been held at Constantinople a year and a half after the Council of Florence, and after the death of John Palæologus, in which Metrophanes was deposed and the union rescinded. But there are two unfortunate anachronisms in this account. Metrophanes was certainly patriarch forthree years after the council, and John Palæologus did not die until 1448, nine years after the act of union. One of the last acts of the expiring Greek empire was to send an ambassador to Pope Nicholas V. promising the exact and speedy fulfilment of the agreement entered into at Florence. We do not pretend to say that the greater portion of the clergy and people of Constantinople were not schismatics at heart; but this we can aver, that they were bound by the action of their bishops, in the free, open Council of Florence, and that this action has never been formally retracted by any legitimate council held in the East. And we commend this consideration to those Anglicans who sometimes, in their desire for a false union, seek to associate with Greek schismatics. These are condemned by the action of their fathers, an action never formally retracted, but merely opposed with a sullenness and hardness of heart not unlike that with which God visited Jerusalem before its destruction. While the Greeks were calling the LatinsAzymites, and other opprobrious names, the minister of God's vengeance was approaching their gates; New Rome fell into infidel hands; and from the turret of St. Sophia, whose dome had so often resounded with excommunications of the vicar of Christ, themuezzinnow invites the Moslem to prayer in the name of the false prophet. Photius and Cerularius aimed at making New Rome the spiritual superior of the city of Peter; instead, it has become the chief city of the deadly enemy of the Christian name.

This is a sad, sad story, and it is not in exultation or triumph that we pen these lines. While Mohammed II. was advancing his last lines, Pope Nicholas V. was making most strenuous efforts to succor the "fair but false" Greeks, and his successors never gave up their efforts to regain the city of Constantine until it was evident that there was no possibility of success.

The policy of Mohammed II. led him to spare a remnant of the inhabitants of the conquered city, and to permit to them the free exercise of their religion. But even in religious matters, he claimed the prerogatives of the sovereigns whom he had displaced.

"In the election and investiture of a patriarch, the ceremonial of the Byzantine court was revived and imitated. With a mixture of satisfaction and horror, the Greeks beheld the sultan on his throne; who delivered into the hands of Gennadius (the patriarch elect) the crosier or pastoral staff, the symbol of his ecclesiastical office; who conducted the patriarch to the gate of the seraglio, presented him with a horse richly caparisoned, and directed the viziers and bashaws to lead him to the palace which had been allotted for his residence."[183]

And this degrading ceremony is continued to this day, each "œcumenical patriarch of New Rome" receiving solemn investiture at the hands of the Ottoman padisha.

The fall of Constantinople rendered certain the success of the schismatical party. The sultans detested the name, as they feared the influence, of the Roman pontiff; and it was plausibly argued that to avow union with him would be to insure their own destruction. The Catholic element, thus reduced to silence, gradually dwindled away; and the schism, though its abjuration at Florence remains in full force, again blighted the Greek Church.

As to hopes of reunion at the present day, "it is not for us to know the times or moments which the Father hath put in his own power." We can only hope and pray that light may at length dispel the darkness which has so long hung over theEastern Church. Ottoman policy no longer requires the prolongation of the schism; its only real supporter is Russia. All the Greeks would have to do would be to sign the act of union of Florence. They can have no difficulty about the Council of Trent; for they have always condemned the errors it condemns. Protestantism has never found favor in their eyes. If the Council of the Vatican do not succeed in reuniting them, it will, it is confidently expected, at least renew the missionary spirit, and inaugurate a work which, respecting eastern susceptibilities, may bring the church of Athanasius, Basil, the Gregories, Chrysostom, and so many other great saints and doctors out of "darkness and the shadow of death," and put an end to a schism which commenced with the lawless ambition of Photius, was renewed by the satanic pride of Cerularius, and has had for chief support the perfidious policy, first of the degenerate Christian emperors, then of the victorious anti-Christian sultans of Constantinople.

We live in a sceptical age that laughs at what it calls the superstitions of the olden time; superstitions, if you will, but often most beautiful, particularly when viewed through the mists of time and change. It is a relief to come upon some living legend, so to speak, while travelling over the hard macadamized thoroughfare of our practical lives, and I shall never forget the pleasure I experienced in listening to the recital of a story of the olden time, told me by my gracious hostess at the village inn where I had been stopping for a few days while making a pedestrian tour through the southern part of Germany.

"Ach, mein Herr!and hast never heard the legend of the Christ of Ausfeldt?"

It stood, weather-beaten and worn, just where the solid piers set their mighty feet into the river; an old stone crucifix that seemed to have battled the storms of hundreds of years.

While pausing in my morning walk to gaze on it with a traveller's curiosity, something in the general characteristics of the figure attracted my attention; and examining it more closely, I immediately saw that it displayed greater evidence of artistic skill and execution than is generally manifested in wayside images. Too often they are but caricatures of that semblance which is the most holy and sacred of Christianity; but in the face of the Christ that looked down upon me from the stained and battered cross, I read an expression of patient suffering and God-like endurance that would have borne noble testimony to any sculptor.

Returning to the inn, a desire to discover something of the history rather of the sculptor than of the image prompted me to make inquiry of my good-natured landlady, who sat in the twilight just outside of the house door, knitting as only a German woman can.

From that "Ach, mein Herr!" I knew a story was coming; and knowing,likewise, that Frau Gretchen was a very princess in story-telling, I lighted my pipe, and, stretching myself on the wooden bench before the door, prepared to be either saddened, amused, or delighted, as the case might be.

Frau Gretchen laid down her stocking for a moment, smoothed the whitest of white aprons, and having looked toward the river, and then at the ruined castle that surmounted the hill beyond, resumed her knitting, and, heaving a gentle sigh began:

"More than three hundred years ago, and for hundreds of years before that time, there dwelt in that old castle yonder the noble lords of Ausfeldt. They were great warriors; mighty in stature and strength, and for generations on generations had been feared and hated by their vassals; for they were wicked as they were violent, and cruel as they were brave. Now, the women were all fair and gentle; for such was the power of the lords of Ausfeldt that it was ever given them to wed the flowers of the land; and it seemed that the good God made for them angel wives, so pure, and meek, and pious, and charitable were the ladies of Ausfeldt through centuries and centuries of time.

"Now, it fell out that Berthold, the reigning count, had been rescued from drowning by Arnold, a wood-carver of the town, whose skill in his craft was well known and much sought even from Alspach and Brauen. It was on a Good-Friday, and the grateful lord registered a vow to Heaven that he would commemorate his preservation by erecting an image of the Saviour crucified nigh to the spot where the waters had so nearly closed over him for ever.

"For in those days,mein Herr, although the great and mighty were fierce and cruel, faith was not dead in their hearts, as it is in these evil times of ours.

"Old Arnold of Ausfeldt, at his own beseeching, was deputed to essay his skill upon the Christ, and so well did he execute the task that his fame travelled far and wide. A large sum of money was promised him; but Berthold the master went off to the wars, and forgot, as men often do, his deliverer. Soon afterward old Arnold died and left all alone in the world his beautiful daughter, so fair and spotless that she was called 'the Lily of Ausfeldt.'

"As I said before,mein Herr, the dames of this haughty house were gentle and good, and when poor Bertha was left desolate, the Countess Barbara sent for her to the castle, and placed her among her own daughters as a sort of companion and teacher; for she had inherited from her mother great dexterity in the use of the needle, and from her father not a little artistic skill.

"For a time all went well. But alas! to every day, however bright, there comes an ending; and thus the morning of Bertha's happiness faded and deepened into night.

"There arrived from a long journey in the East the eldest son of the house, the young Rupert; none handsomer, none wittier, none more courtly than he. Unlike his father and most of his progenitors, he possessed a winning tongue and beguiling air; he had loitered in ladies' bowers, and they had taught him well.

"Into the pure blue eyes of the Lily of Ausfeldt he looked as would the serpent into the eyes of a trembling dove. But the blue depths, though they quivered, grew no darker nor deeper; there was no guile in the heart, and it knew not the presence of sin. Close to the innocent cheek of the maiden the tempter breathed his poisonous breath; but the guardianangel of purity folded his wings about her, and wafted a fold of his misty veil between that hot breath and her unsoiled innocence, until, man of the world though he was, Count Rupert shrank into himself abashed, and loved for the first time in his reckless life with a pure, deep, passionate love.

"Day after day he sought her side, night after night they wandered together by the river; her soul all full of faith, and hope, and beauty; his racked by fears of his father's anger; for in his heart of hearts he knew that his father would sooner slay him with his own hand than bend the lofty pride of Ausfeldt to a union with a simple burgher maiden.

"Ach, ach, Herr Karl!love is a pleasant thing, and a delicious thing, and a holy thing; for it is heaven-born: but woman's faith is still more beautiful and heavenly; and man's fickleness and perfidy the story of every day. It has been the same all the world over since time began, and so it will be to the end.

"They parted at last—war called him away; but he left her with a vow upon his lips that was broken ere the birds sang the advent of another summer. There came rumors of a marriage with a great heiress of the north; but Bertha knew no fears, for her own heart was pure and true, and she did not dream that his could be faithless. Alas! there are many like her in the world,mein Herr, even in our day, when most people are forgetting what love means.

"Soon the castle was astir with unusual bustle and preparation, and then there was no secret made of the fact that the young Lord Rupert would soon bring home a bride. Whether he was weak or wicked, who can tell? God has judged and meted him his portion long ere this; but in her heart poor Bertha never blamed him. Yet she grew pale and thin; but no one noticed it; and that she spent long nights of weary weeping none knew save her guardian angel.

"It was a still, starry midnight. All alone in her little chamber, Bertha leaned forth from the casement; but she did not weep. Suddenly, as by an irresistible impulse, she hurried from the room, down the winding stairs, through the long garden, down, down the steep hill, till she stood on the brink of the river.

"Beneath her its waters flowed dark and rippling, and they were cold, oh! so cold, and her head burned and throbbed so wildly.

"One plunge, and her woes would be over for ever—thus whispered the fiend beside her—one step, and the cool waves would receive her! 'What is life to thee now?' said a mocking voice in her ear. 'What eternity of woe canst thou suffer more terrible than this? There is no eternity, naught but oblivion. Nearer and nearer thy faithless lover hastens with his beautiful bride; how canst thou bear day after day to meet him, to dwell under the same roof with thy rival. Have courage, plunge boldly! the waves, more merciful than the world, will receive thee, and to-morrow thou wilt float on their broad bosom, far away to the sea.'

"As the maiden lifted her hands from her eyes, as though to take a last look on the world ere she left it, something white gleamed in the moonlight; it was the stone crucifix at whose feet she had so often knelt in days of happiness and innocence, the cross her father had fashioned with hands and heart consecrated to heaven.

"Trembling in every limb, she dragged her weary feet to the spot; and as she threw herself upon her knees before the image, bitter sobs burst from her bosom.

"The sad face of thedead Christlooked down upon her with eyes of divine compassion, and brought to her memory and to her heart a vision of the dear departed who had wrought this labor of love, and of that father's affection, and of his pure and holy teachings, which she had so nearly forgotten for evermore.

"With a wild cry she clasped the nail-pierced feet, and her whole soul poured itself forth in one deep, wailing supplication.

"'My God, my God!' she moaned, 'why hast thou forsaken me? Take me out of this weary world, as I lie here penitent and fearful, lest the evil one come again to tempt me, and I yield in my weakness and brokenness of heart. The river is black and pitiless, my Saviour; but not so black and pitiless as the world. Save me, oh! save me from myself. How shall I know that thou hast not deserted me? How shall I hope that thou wilt pardon, that thou wilt hear my prayer?'

"The moon, which had shrunk behind a cloud, came softly forth and bathed the image and the shrinking figure at its feet in holy light; while, as the maiden knelt, there passed into her stricken heart a quiet, hopeful feeling, and, looking up half timidly, she pushed back her loosened hair to meet once more the sad, pitying glance above her.

"And then she clasped her trembling hands together, and bent her weary head low down to the very earth; for around the brow of thedead Christthere shone a heavenly halo, blood trickled from the thorny crown and reddened the outstretched hands, and from the soft, compassionate eyes great tears were falling.

"Twenty years afterward, the holy Abbess of Ausfeldt lay upon her death-bed; and the good sisters gathered around her, and even the choristers and little serving-boys; for they all loved her well: and there came into her eyes a light, and to her voice a strength, neither had known for many a day; and just as I tell it to you,mein Herr, she told them the story of theChrist of Ausfeldt. For her name had been Bertha, and it was her own story.

"And she begged that no Christian might ever pass the sacred spot without breathing a prayer for her soul. Ah!mein Herr, many a time have I passed the holy image and almost fancied it smiled upon me as I went."

Silently Frau Gretchen folded up her knitting, and with a sigh toward the river, and another toward the ruined castle, stepped slowly down the garden path, humming dreamily as she walked Schiller's song of "The Mill":

"The mill-wheel ceaseless turneth,Beside the mill I know;But she who once did dwell thereHath vanished long ago."

Catching her thought, I murmured the plaintive words as I passed out of the gateway and down the old, shadowy street. They had "vanished long ago"—the great inheritors and the noble line, the faithless lover and the pure "Lily of Ausfeldt." But the bright, silvery moonlight made clear and distinct the sculptured image I had come to seek. The legend had invested it with an almost living interest, and as I paused before it, with as reverential a feeling as I have ever known in the contemplation of earth's grandest Raphaels or Murillos, I said half aloud, as I lingered for a moment near the quiet river, "O beautiful old German legends! may you live in your purity and holiness in the hearts of the German people as long as the Rhine flows through the pleasant courses and by the fruitful vineyards its wandering spirit loves."

Elizabeth Ann Bayley, the foundress of the Sisterhood of Charity in the United States, was born in the city of New York, on the 28th of August, 1774. Her father, Dr. Richard Bayley, was a physician of good family and distinguished position, a member of the Church of England, and a man of many natural virtues; but he cared very little about religion, and wherever his daughter may have got the pious inclinations which distinguished her in girlhood, she certainly did not get them from him. Her mother, whose maiden name was Charlton, died while Elizabeth was a child. Under the care of her father, however, Miss Bayley was well educated and trained in domestic duties. At the age of nineteen she married Mr. William Magee Seton, eldest son of a prosperous New York merchant, and descendant of an ancient Scottish patrician family, whose head is the Earl of Winton. Their married life was eminently happy, and for six or seven years fortune smiled upon them. Commercial disasters at last swept away their property. Dr. Bayley died suddenly of a malignant fever contracted in the discharge of his duty as health officer of the port; Mr. Seton's health failed, and in 1803 the husband and wife determined to make a voyage to Italy. They suffered a long and painful quarantine at Leghorn, and a week after their release Mr. Seton died, leaving his wife in a strange land with her eldest child, a girl of nine years. Mrs. Seton was not, however, without comfort and protection. Two estimable Italian gentlemen, Philip and Anthony Filicchi, personal friends and business correspondents of the Setons, took her to their home and treated her with most brotherly kindness. Under the influence of the devout household of which they were the heads, the religious sentiments of the young widow were gradually developed into a strong attraction toward the Catholic Church. She went with the Filicchis to mass; she visited the chapels; she learned devotion to the Blessed Virgin. Early in February, 1804, about six weeks after Mr. Seton's death, she sailed for home. But it was not the purpose of Providence that she should be withdrawn so soon from associations which were to influence remarkably her future life. In a severe storm the vessel in which she had taken passage was so much injured as to be driven back to port. Before another was ready to sail, Mrs. Seton's child was taken sick. Close upon the recovery of the child, followed the sickness of the mother; and when, in April, they were ready again to embark, one of the Filicchi brothers, Anthony, offered to bear them company. During the long voyage of nearly two months, Mrs. Seton made frequent opportunities to talk with her friend upon religion, and before the vessel reached New York she was virtually a convert. The last step cost her much suffering and perplexity. It is a step which hardly ever is taken without pain. In her case there was not only the dread of estrangement from affectionate relatives, but she could not face with composure the inevitable rupture with a clergyman of the ProtestantEpiscopal Church who had exercised a great deal of influence upon her character and her earlier life. This was the amiable John Henry Hobart, afterward Bishop of New York, a man who was deeply and deservedly beloved, and for whom Mrs. Seton in particular cherished a filial regard. By Mr. Filicchi's advice, she exposed her difficulties to Mr. Hobart. He made an elaborate reply to them. He talked with her frequently. He used all his talent, all his scholarship, all his personal influence to keep her in the denomination in which she had been born. Between Mr. Hobart and her family, on the one hand, and the letters of Philip Filicchi and personal interviews with Anthony, on the other, her perplexity became painful to the last degree. At last, on Ash-Wednesday, 1805, she was received into the church by Father O'Brien, at St. Peter's, in Barclay street. Her soul was now at peace, but her temporal troubles had only begun. Old friends and nearest relatives turned away horrified and angry, and when soon afterward her sister-in-law Cecilia was likewise baptized a Catholic, the indignation of the family knew no bounds. She was without fortune, and when she tried to earn a support by teaching, she found the good Protestants of New York afraid to intrust the education of their children to an emissary of the pope, perhaps a female Jesuit in disguise. The kindness of her excellent Italian friends again came to her relief. They charged themselves with the education of her children, placed the two sons at Georgetown College, gave her an allowance of $400 a year, and begged Mrs. Seton to draw upon them for whatever money she wanted. We believe she was not obliged, however, to avail herself of this generous offer.

Mrs. Seton seems to have formed, at an early period of her widowhood, the project of devoting herself to God in the service of a religious order, and her first plan was to go to Canada and join some sisterhood there. It was a part of this scheme, however, that her children should enter a house of education at Montreal, where she could still give them the maternal care which their tender years required. Providential obstacles defeated this design, and thus she was reserved for the establishment in her own country of the noble institute with which her name will always be connected. We shall quote from Dr. White'sLifethe story of how she began the great work of her career:

"Her thoughts were more practically directed to it by the Rev. William Valentine Dubourg, president of St. Mary's College in Baltimore. He became acquainted with her in the following way: Having visited the city of New York in the autumn of 1806, he was one morning offering up the holy sacrifice of mass in St. Peter's Church, when a lady presented herself at the communion-rail, and, bathed in tears, received the Blessed Sacrament at his hands. He was struck with the uncommon deportment and piety of the communicant, and when afterward seated at the breakfast-table with the Rev. Mr. Sibourd, one of the pastors of the church, he inquired who she was, rightly judging in his mind that it was Mrs. Seton, of whose conversion and edifying life he had been informed. Before Mr. Sibourd had time to answer his question, a gentle tap at the door was heard, and the next moment Mrs. Seton was introduced, and knelt before the priest of God to receive his blessing. Entering into conversation with her respecting her sons and her intentions in their regard, he learned from her the views and wishes of Mr. Filicchi, as stated above, and the remote expectation she had of removing herself, with her daughters, to Canada. Mr. Dubourg, who was a man of enlarged views and remarkable enterprise, no sooner became acquainted with the design which she entertained of retiring at some future period into a religious community, for the welfare of herself and her children, than he suggested the practicability of the scheme within the limits of the United States. Mrs. Seton immediately wrote to Bishop Carroll, informing him of what had passed between her and Mr. Dubourg,and requesting his advice in the matter. 'I could not venture,' she says, 'to take a further step in so interesting a situation without your concurrence and direction, which also, I am assured, will the more readily obtain for me the blessing of Him whose will alone it is my earnest desire to accomplish.' After mentioning the particular trials she had to contend with in New York, and assuring Dr. Carroll that she had yielded in condescension to her opponents every point possible consistently with her peace for the hour of death, she continues, 'And for that hour, my dear sir, I now beg you to consider, while you direct me how to act for my dear little children, who in that hour, if they remain in their present situation, would be snatched from our dear faith as from an accumulation of error as well as misfortune to them. For myself, certainly the only fear I can have is that there is too much of self-seeking in pleading for the accomplishment of this object, which, however, I joyfully yield to the will of the Almighty, confident that, as he has disposed my heart to wish above all things to please him, it will not be disappointed in the desire, whatever may be his appointed means. The embracing a religious life has been, from the time I was in Leghorn, so much my hope and consolation, that I would at any moment have embraced all the difficulties of again crossing the ocean to attain it, little imagining it could be accomplished here. But now my children are so circumstanced that I could not die in peace (and you know, dear sir, we must make every preparation) except I felt the full conviction I had done all in my power to shield them from it; in that case, it would be easy to commit them to God.'"While Mrs. Seton was consulting Bishop Carroll in regard to the important arrangement suggested by Mr. Dubourg, this gentleman was conferring with the Rev. Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus, of Boston, upon the same subject. After having weighed the matter attentively, they came to the conclusion that her Canada scheme should be abandoned, and that it would be preferable to exert her talents in the way proposed by Mr. Dubourg. Mr. Cheverus wrote to her, 'hoping that this project would do better for her family, and being sure it would be very conducive to the progress of religion in this country.' It was the opinion, however, of these distinguished clergymen that the execution of the design should not be precipitate; and they therefore advised her, through Mr. Dubourg, 'to wait the manifestation of the divine will—the will of a Father most tender, who will not let go the child afraid to step alone.' The wise forethought of Dr. Matignon led him to believe that Mrs. Seton was called, in the designs of God's providence, to be the instrument of some special mercies that he wished to dispense to the church in this country. 'I have only to pray to God,' he wrote to her, 'to bless your views and his, and to give you the grace to fulfil them for his greater glory.You are destined, I think, for some great good in the United States, and here you should remain in preference to any other location. For the rest, God has his moments, which we must not seek to anticipate, and a prudent delay only brings to maturity the good desires which he awakens within us.' Bishop Carroll, in answer to Mrs. Seton's inquiries, informed her that, although he was entirely ignorant of all particulars, yet, to approve the plan of Mr. Dubourg, it was enough for him to know that it had the concurrence of Dr. Matignon and Mr. Cheverus."

"While Mrs. Seton was consulting Bishop Carroll in regard to the important arrangement suggested by Mr. Dubourg, this gentleman was conferring with the Rev. Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus, of Boston, upon the same subject. After having weighed the matter attentively, they came to the conclusion that her Canada scheme should be abandoned, and that it would be preferable to exert her talents in the way proposed by Mr. Dubourg. Mr. Cheverus wrote to her, 'hoping that this project would do better for her family, and being sure it would be very conducive to the progress of religion in this country.' It was the opinion, however, of these distinguished clergymen that the execution of the design should not be precipitate; and they therefore advised her, through Mr. Dubourg, 'to wait the manifestation of the divine will—the will of a Father most tender, who will not let go the child afraid to step alone.' The wise forethought of Dr. Matignon led him to believe that Mrs. Seton was called, in the designs of God's providence, to be the instrument of some special mercies that he wished to dispense to the church in this country. 'I have only to pray to God,' he wrote to her, 'to bless your views and his, and to give you the grace to fulfil them for his greater glory.You are destined, I think, for some great good in the United States, and here you should remain in preference to any other location. For the rest, God has his moments, which we must not seek to anticipate, and a prudent delay only brings to maturity the good desires which he awakens within us.' Bishop Carroll, in answer to Mrs. Seton's inquiries, informed her that, although he was entirely ignorant of all particulars, yet, to approve the plan of Mr. Dubourg, it was enough for him to know that it had the concurrence of Dr. Matignon and Mr. Cheverus."

She did wait patiently nearly two years. At the end of that time her pecuniary affairs became so embarrassing, and the inconveniences of her situation in New York pressed upon her so severely, that she was again driven to turn her thoughts toward Canada, not so much as a refuge from her own troubles, but as an asylum where her children might be saved from the dangers which threatened their faith in the Protestant society of New York. But about this time she met Mr. Dubourg again, and, in answer to his inquiries, gave him an exact account of her situation. He contemplated the establishment of a Catholic school for girls in Baltimore, and invited her to come and take charge of it. Her two boys he offered to admit into St. Mary's College, free of expense. The school was to be started in a small way, in a two-story hired house; and afterward, if God prospered the undertaking, a proper building for the institution was to be erected on ground belonging to the college. Of course, Mrs. Seton accepted the proposition with joy. On the 9th of June, 1808, she embarked for Baltimore in a packet, accompanied by her three daughters. It was a voyage,in those times, of between six and seven days. She landed on the morning of the 16th, the feast of Corpus Christi, and drove at once from the wharf to St. Mary's chapel to hear mass.

It is almost impossible to describe the happiness which beams from her letters written in her new home to her friends in Italy, her favorite sisters-in-law, Cecilia and Harriet Seton, (the latter of whom was, at this time, strongly attracted toward the church, while the other, as we have already mentioned, was a fervent convert,) and her spiritual advisers. United with her children, in a comfortable little home close to the seminary and college, where she found in the chapel services an unfailing source of delight, she had all that her domestic affections and pious desires could wish. The relatives of Mr. Dubourg and other Catholics of the city treated her with great cordiality, and from many distinguished Protestant families she received marked social attentions. The school was opened in September. Mrs. Seton had not thought, so far, of adopting any thing like a conventual rule of life, except perhaps at some remote period; but her daily life was regulated with reference to the consecration of all her powers to God, and she mingled no further in society than a regard for good breeding and gratitude to her friends absolutely required. The development of her religious schemes was gradual, and the foundation of the new sisterhood appears, from a human point of view, the result of accident and curious coincidence, rather than the fruit of direct labor. The first step toward it was the arrival at Mrs. Seton's Baltimore establishment of a young lady from Philadelphia, named Cecilia O'Conway. The Rev. Mr. Babade, the spiritual director of the school, found this young lady on the point of going to Europe to enter a convent. He told her of Mrs. Seton's plans, and she determined to go to Baltimore instead. In December, 1808, Miss O'Conway accordingly became an assistant in the school.

Mr. Filicchi had made an offering of one thousand dollars toward the realization of Mrs. Seton's plans; but now came, in a most unexpected manner, a new benefactor, whose liberality gave the enterprise a different character and vastly enlarged scope. Among the students of theology at St. Mary's Seminary, was Mr. Samuel Cooper, a gentleman of fortune, a Virginian, and formerly well known in fashionable society. His conversion from Protestantism and determination to study for the priesthood had caused quite as great a sensation as the conversion of Mrs. Seton. He now purposed distributing his property among the poor, (before his death, we may here add, that he literally gave away all he possessed,) and one morning he spoke to Mr. Dubourg about doing something for the instruction of poor children. He had never spoken upon the subject with Mrs. Seton, but he suggested at this interview that possibly she might undertake the work, if he gave the money. It is a very remarkable fact that at this same moment Mrs. Seton was thinking of the same thing. That morning after communion she felt a strong desire arise within her to dedicate herself to the care and instruction of poor girls. She went at once to Mr. Dubourg. "This morning," she said, "in my communion, I thought, 'Dearest Saviour, if you would but give me the care of poor little children, no matter how poor!' and Mr. Cooper being directly before me at his thanksgiving, I thought, 'He has money: if he would but give it for the bringing up of poor little children to know and love you!'" Theresult of this extraordinary, or we ought rather to say, providential coincidence, was, that Mr. Cooper gave eight thousand dollars for the establishment of the proposed institution, and fixed upon Emmettsburg as the place; and there a farm with a very small stone house upon it was bought, in the names of the Rev. William V. Dubourg, Mr. Samuel Cooper, and the Rev. John Dubois, who was then pastor of several congregations in that part of Maryland, and director at the same time of the small school near Emmettsburg, out of which soon afterward grew Mount St. Mary's College. With the college and its illustrious founder the fortunes of Mrs. Seton's institute became intimately connected.

While these arrangements were in progress, the new community was gradually and quietly forming at the little house in Baltimore. A second associate, Miss Maria Murphy, of Philadelphia, joined Mrs. Seton in April, 1809. In May, two more presented themselves, Miss Mary Ann Butler, of Philadelphia, and Miss Susan Clossy, of New York. It was not without a painful sense of unfitness that, in obedience to the directions of her bishop and spiritual advisers, Mrs. Seton undertook the government of this religious household. On the evening of the day when the task was definitely laid upon her "she was seized," says Dr. White,

"with a transport of mingled love and humility in reflecting upon the subject. Being with two or three of her sisters, and the discourse turning upon the probable designs of providence in their regard, Mother Seton became so penetrated with the awful responsibility, and sense of her own incapacity, that she was almost inconsolable. For some moments she wept bitterly in silence; then, throwing herself upon her knees, she confessed aloud the most frail and humiliating actions of her life from her childhood upward; after which she exclaimed in the most affecting manner, her hands and eyes raised toward heaven and the tears gushing down her cheeks, 'My gracious God! You know my unfitness for this task. I who by my sins have so often crucified you, I blush with shame and confusion! How can I teach others who know so little myself, and am so miserable and imperfect?' The sisters who were present were overwhelmed by the scene before them, and, falling on their knees, gave vent to their tears and painful emotions."

On the 1st of June they assumed a religious habit, and the next day—Corpus Christi—appeared in it for the first time at church. It was not a regular nun's garb, but an imitation of the dress which Mrs. Seton had worn ever since the death of her husband. It consisted of a black gown with a short cape, similar to a costume she had seen in some Italian sisterhood, a white muslin cap with a crimped border, and a black band around the head, fastened under the chin. A regular order of daily life was established, and Mrs. Seton privately, in the presence of Bishop Carroll, took the ordinary vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience for the period of one year. Her associates, however, did not as yet make any vows, nor was any special religious institute adopted for their organization. They merely styled themselves "Sisters of St. Joseph." Mr. Dubourg was appointed their ecclesiastical superior.

About this time Miss Cecilia Seton fell dangerously ill, and was advised by her physicians to make a visit to Baltimore. Harriet accompanied her, and with these two beloved relatives, one of her daughters, and one member of the sisterhood, Mrs. Seton removed to Emmettsburg on the 21st of June, finding shelter at first in a little log hut on the mountain, as their own house on the farm was not yet ready for use. Her happy union with Cecilia and Harriet was for a few months only. Harriet became aCatholic; but in the first fervor of her devotion was seized with a fever, and died on the 22d of December. Cecilia grew better for a short time, and even joined the community; but she failed gradually, and died in Baltimore in April. During the first autumn and winter at Emmettsburg the institution was little better than a hospital. The farm-house, into which the whole community, then numbering ten, moved in the course of the summer, consisted of nothing but two rooms on the ground floor and two in the attic, and these had to afford accommodations not only for the ten sisters, but for Mrs. Seton's three daughters, her sister-in-law Harriet, and two pupils who followed her from Baltimore. Added to the discomfort of their narrow quarters was a state of poverty so extreme that they sometimes knew not where to look for their next meal. For coffee they substituted a beverage made of carrots and sweetened with molasses. Their bread was of rye and of the coarsest description. At Christmas they thought themselves fortunate in having for dinner smoked herrings and a spoonful of molasses apiece. In the course of the winter, however, a two-story log house of convenient size was put up for their use, and now they were able to open a day-school and take more boarding-pupils, and so provide at least for their daily expenses. The debt incurred in making these improvements was, nevertheless, a severe burden for them, and at one time it seemed inevitable that they should sell out and disperse; but charitable friends came to their relief at the last moment, and, little by little, with many fluctuations of fortune, they got out of their difficulties.

When they determined, about the time of coming to Emmettsburg, to adopt the rule of St. Vincent of Paul, they sent to France and begged some of the sisters of the society to come over and place themselves at the head of the new American community. The invitation was accepted; but the French government would not allow the sisters to sail, so the most that Mrs. Seton could get was a copy of the rules and a kind letter of encouragement. These rules, modified to meet the peculiar wants of the new institution, by permitting it to receive pay-scholars in connection with its labors of charity, and with special provisions to allow Mrs. Seton to devote the necessary care to her young children, were approved by Bishop Carroll as the rule for the "Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph," and so the community which has done such a noble work in the United States came into existence with Mrs. Seton for its first mother superior.

We have no intention of sketching in this brief paper the rise and development of that sisterhood. The log house in "St. Joseph's Valley," at the foot of Mount St. Mary, has a renown in the history of the American church upon which many able pens have enlarged, and branch communities have gone out from it, filling remote parts of the United States with good works and pious example. Our purpose has been merely to sketch the foundation of the illustrious community, and tell our readers something of the trials and sorrows under which Mrs. Seton achieved her great work. The rest of her life, though it was blessed with the consolation of success in her undertaking, was torn with afflictions not less severe than those she had suffered already. Her eldest and her youngest daughters were both taken from her as they were just entering upon a beautiful womanhood, the eldest, Anna, being already a member of the community. The deaths among her earliest associates were many, and she had also to mourn the loss of oneof the excellent Italian friends who contributed so much to the success of her enterprise. But in all her sorrows she preserved the calmness of divine resignation, the charm of her personal presence, and the kind, unselfish interest in others which made her so generally beloved. She died on the 4th of January, 1821; and on the wall of the humble chamber where she expired, the following memento is now shown:

"Here, near this door, by this fireplace, on a poor, lowly couch, died our cherished and saintly Mother Seton, on the 4th of January, 1821. She died in poverty, but rich in faith and good works. May we, her children, walk in her footsteps and share one day in her happiness! Amen!"

The two works whose titles we have placed at the head of this article are very much alike in the general character of their contents, having both been prepared from the same materials. Dr. White'sLifehas been many years before the public, and has been much commended for its devotional spirit and appreciative judgment of Mrs. Seton's labors. The larger work, just issued in two handsome volumes, and printed and bound with considerable elegance, has been prepared by Mrs. Seton's grandson. It has apparently been for the editor a labor of love. He has drawn freely from the family records which Dr. White used before him, and has quoted much more of Mrs. Seton's letters than his predecessor did, so that the work is almost equivalent to an autobiography of the foundress of St. Joseph's, illustrated with abundant explanatory notes, and with only so much narrative as seemed necessary to bind the whole together. It is not only an interesting memorial of a very interesting woman, but an important contribution to the materials which we hope the coming historian will some day reduce into a comprehensive history of the American church.

If we consider the existing industrial nations with the eye of political economy or of political philosophy, we cannot help giving attention to the deep and wide-spread disagreements which have broken open between the laboring man and his employers. In France, Switzerland, Germany, England, and the United States, the question of the relative rights of labor and capital are presented in many ways, so as to compel investigation and action. Trades-unions, coöperative societies, industrial congresses, and lastly, that herculean infant, the Labor Reform Party, are extending themselves all over the countries we have just named, and particularly over the United States. They are daily gaining strength and influence. Politicians are thinking how to obtain the favor of this party, at the least cost to their popularity among other partisans. The larger parties already offer to compromise with it, and to give it a plank in their great platforms. It is evident that, if the working-men were to move with unanimity to form a labor party, it would be a most formidable rival to the others.

The mere fact of the advent of anew party is not at all startling to an American; for since the independence of this country, several parties have come into existence, and have been swept away by the advent or success of others; but the working-men's party proposes to carry into our legislation and into the administration of the government tendencies and principles so diametrically opposite to and destructive of any precedent course or system of politics, that the prospect of these tendencies being powerfully reënforced excites vehement emotions of anxiety or satisfaction, according to the previous bias of the observer. Just think of it: the question is no longer to be only what ought to be the policy of the nation, regarded as an unit, toward other nations or toward itself, nor what are the interests and rights ofterritorialintegers; but what ought to be the action of one greatcomponent elementupon the other essential elements of the body politic. The people are called upon to consider not only the questions relative to tariffs, taxation, banks, currency, national debt, bonds, State rights, or the like; but to answer the complaint of the bone and sinew of the country against its veins and blood. The brain claims the right to decide; and it appears there is a possibility of there being a preponderance of brain on the side of the complainants. The spread of education produces astonishing consequences; and among the rest this: science is becoming so common that the great cannot monopolize it all, and much of it is going to take service among the poor. Hence, able and eloquent speakers and writers are now contending that labor does not receive its full and merited reward, and that the laborer is oppressed by his employers and the laws. Hence, too, a great number and variety of novel measures and institutions are ingeniously contrived and plausibly advocated for the avowed purpose of overthrowing some of the most venerated doctrines of orthodox political economy.

As in other cases, this movement develops every grade of opinion and feeling. A rich philanthropist thinks more education and better lodging-houses, at less cost, will be a good and sufficient remedy; while among the poor the most violent measures are sometimes preferred. Even agrarianism is proposed, and incendiarism attempted, in order to redress whatever wrongs the toiler really suffers, or imagines he suffers, unjustly. Between the two, we have mild and harmless contrivances, such as mutual aid societies, and coöperative shops and stores, intended to diminish the causes of pauperism or alleviate its bad effects.

All the plans, of course, differ, according to the idea the proposers have formed of the nature of the causes of the social malady. Some regard the miseries of the laboring classes as the accumulated effects of many mere accidents, principally personal imprudence and vice; and, since they think there is no radical cause, refuse to hear of a radical remedy. Others admit radical causes, such as (1) a bad form of government, or (2) the selfish, the uncharitable, the unchristian spirit of the world, or (3) the too rapid increase and local crowding of population, or (4) the progressive individualization of capital, or (5) popular ignorance, or (6) the onerous obligations of marriage and parentage, or (7) what they call the slavery of woman, or (8) the present land-ownership system, or some other prevalent mode of acquiring property, such as (9) usury, (10) monopoly, (11) rents, (12) heirships, (13) tariffs, (14) banking, (15) speculation, and the like. Above all these looms the fact, whatever may be the cause, that capital isbecoming less and less in the hands of those who produce it, and is growing larger and larger in the hands of cunning or lucky exploiters.

The variety of opinions with regard to what the remedy should be has produced correspondingly various institutions, parties, and laws. So we have (1) poor laws, vagrant laws, work-houses and reformatory prisons, for juvenile delinquents and others; (2) charity hospitals, asylums for the widows, the orphans, the deaf and dumb, the blind, the crippled, the aged, the infirm, or the insane; warming-houses, lying-in hospitals, poor mothers' cradle-houses, gratuitous sleeping-halls, soup-houses, asylums for unruly or destitute children of both sexes, gratuitous dispensaries of medicines, Magdalen reformatory houses, Sisters of Charity, Brothers of Mercy, Little Sisters of the Poor, Christian Brothers' schools, public schools, etc.; (3) visiting confraternities to bring succor home to the poor, such as fuel-giving, furnishing provisions or nursing, and prison-visiting societies; (4) organizations to support charitable institutions by means of fairs, lotteries, concerts, spectacles, picnics, tournaments, and other amusements; (5) labor-protective unions, workmen's guilds and fellowships, trades-unions and labor combinations, savings banks, coöperative factories, coöperative stores, mutual aid societies, burial societies, labor reform party; (6) Shaker, Rappist, Moravian, and Ballouite communities; (7) OweniteHarmonias, CabetiteFamilisteries, FourieritePhalansterias, women's rights societies, Mormon harems, and artistic brothels of complex association.

Every one who reads this list will find in it the mention of some institution he believes to be either useless or pernicious. The objections would be curiously heterogeneous. An infidel would suppress all those having their root or support in religion. A political economist will protest against working-men's combinations to raise the price of labor. A Christian deplores the attempts of socialists to establish institutions from which God is excluded. A sectarian sees with pain the success of charities founded by other congregations. The Roman Catholic (as such) must also have his opinions of the relative merits of the corporations that appear to him to rise sometimes out of the sea of sin, and sometimes out of the waters of life. We, for ourselves, have some peculiar ideas, gathered from this point of view.

It would be vain obduracy on the part of a Catholic to close his eyes to the deep and wide-spread clamor of the voices, great and small, that are now discussing "social science," and proposing solutions of the "labor question." These matters, in every imaginable manner, are obtruding themselves upon the attention of the manufacturer, politician, and legislator; and must soon command that of the farmer and merchant; and by and by, even the solicitude of the church. Indeed, we should not say "by and by;" for already, while the world is agitated by the strikes and the labor congresses, while the parliament of Great Britain, through its committees, is carrying on the minutest investigations of the eight-hour and higher wages movements, our holy father at Rome has pronounced public allocutions againstsocialism.

Very certainly society, the state, and the church will soon deeply feel the effects of the agitation of mind and feeling going on among the working people. The allocution of his holiness shows that this consequence has not escaped his penetrating intellect. He sees clearly that the agitation will be injurious or produce beneficial results according to the principles, Christian or anti-christian, that shall prevail within it.To avoid or prevent the fermentation and its products is impossible. It must take place; and the question is, how to make it yield clear and palatable wine. To think that the church can ignore it, and go on as if nothing were shaking the body politic, and disturbing the souls of the people, would be to stultify ourselves. The issue raised is too important, and the tendency to revolution too powerfully pressed to be disregarded and treated with contempt. See the great number of societies the workmen have formed in every Northern State. These societies have already drawn a majority of the skilled operatives, and there is a prospect of their finally absorbing all the working-people. The agricultural laborers already give signs of sympathy with the movement.

Of course, we understand that it matters not to the church what economic or political party governs the state. The controversies between Democrat and Republican, free-trade and protection, labor and capital, are mere worldly matters, and do not concern the church; but the coming issue has a deeper cause than a mere question of temporal expediency. In the midst of the unanimous demand for a change the men of labor are making, we can also perceive, not only that the wished-for changes are fundamental and revolutionary, but also that the leaders are actuated by very different principles, and aim at different ultimates, and that these relate to the very origin, basis, and end of private and public morality and religion. Some move by the light of Christianity, some by that of natural reason as exhibited by the modern infidel schools of philosophy—naturalism, rationalism, individualism, positivism, and evolutionism. Very different motives and very different hopes move the principal agitators, though they now act with great unanimity. The working multitude, who complain of wrong, and seek a practical remedy, have not yet looked beyond the surface of the speeches, or into the details of the plans of their principal men. It suffices that these say they have found the proper remedy. They have gained the confidence of followers merely from evincing a knowledge of the grounds of complaint, and giving eloquent expression to their sympathy. The working-men hardly discuss the merits of the particularmethodsof reform proposed; and they will follow one or the other class of leaders as it happens that either succeeds in captivating them by the arts of ambition. The difference in the possible consequences is immense; but first the leaders, each with his followers, will act together to break up the customs, laws, and institutions by which the interests of the laboring men are injuriously affected; and not till they accomplish this against the common enemy shall we know (unless we prepare the way) whether the counsels of infidelity or of Christianity will be followed in the reconstruction.

The work of determining the tendency one way or the other is going on even now. If we scrutinize societies, institutions, and parties formed for the purpose of relieving the evils that poverty causes among the people, we shall find it easy to class them under discordant heads. (1) Those founded by Christian charity, wholly innocent of any political purpose—works of disinterested mercy and brotherly love. (2) Those invented by political economists and lawyers, merely as a means of favoring capitalists and the personal accumulation of property, or to suppress pauperism and vagrancy, such as monopolies, poor-houses, and the like. (3) Those contrived from motives of private prudence and economy only, such as mutual aid societies, coöperative stores,etc. (4) Those proceeding on the ground that the laboring classes will never get their just portion of worldly goods and enjoyments otherwise than through political action, as, for instance, the national labor reform party. (5) The Utopias and secret societies imagined by infidels.

It is this last-mentioned class whose theories, acts, and progress compel us to consider them from a religious point of view. They are the offspring of Campanella, of Nicolas of Munster, and of Giordano Bruno. From these sprang Bolingbroke, Voltaire, Rousseau, D'Holbach, and a host of mere sceptics and speculators like them. Then came the chiefs of the French revolution, Marat and Robespierre. Next, in 1797, Babœuf opposed even Robespierre as being too backward and aristocratic, and formed a conspiracy to massacre the rich, and proclaim sumptuary laws from a mountain of the slain. After him appeared Owen, trying to realize the insane idea of conciliating atheism with charity. He was followed by St. Simon, who sought to create another contradiction, that of an aristocracy of philanthropists; governors and princes of equality, who, however, never found any subjects. Contemporaneously, Fourier invented a wonderful scheme for procuring in labor association the most luxurious pleasures and licentious indulgences. Close at his heels came Cabet, continuing Owen's method on less offensive conditions. Last of all, Noyes is trying to conceal the wolf of beastly promiscuousness under the robe of the pure lamb of Christian love. These are the most notorious of those who may be denounced as the anti-Christian agitators of the labor question. Socialism is the name they have inscribed on their banner; and hence, since all these inventors and champions have also been unanimous in waging war, directly or indirectly, against Christianity, their socialism itself should be opposed by all good Christians.

But, unfortunately, socialism, while opposing or seeking to undermine Christianity, succeeds in seducing many by the promises of sensual enjoyments she makes. Indeed, the rationale of every sect or party concerned in the labor movement begins with the main proposition which makes them and even infidel socialism acceptable to multitudes, namely, that society or the state is under obligation to relieve the miseries of the poor, and if possible to eradicate pauperism itself. If any deny that society or the law has done any injustice to labor—if, for instance, the legislator who framed the poor laws thought the pauper had nobody but himself to blame—he nevertheless admits that pauperism is not merely a personal misfortune, but a public one; that pauperism must be regarded as a social malady or sore, which, though it may not be radically cured, must and ought to be treated at least with palliatives, so as to prevent it from becoming fatal to the body politic. Thus, while attempting to exonerate the state, even the orthodox politician admits that the body politic is deeply afflicted by the virus of pauperism, and therefore himself posits the very question he would fain ignore. The poor join issue with him, and argue that from the day England and North Germany wrested the care of the poor from the monasteries, the state assumed the responsibility of their distress, and is bound to make such laws as will radically cure all misery. The contest is now raging in every direction, not only on the question ofWhoshall take care of the poor, butHowshall they be cared for, andWhatare the rights and remedies they are entitled to?

The origin and object of the controversy is agreed on by every one. The dissent is upon what shall be the principle and the method according to which the desired relief shall be gained. Infidelity, under the name of socialism, would have it done without God, on grounds of naked natural equity or rational justice. It would act independently of religion, Christian faith and Christian charity. It would push the church aside, and presume to finish in another name the work our Lord Jesus Christ commenced more than eighteen centuries ago.

Hence, unless one prefers to hide his head in the sand, with the vain notion that the immense flood roaring and rising round us does not exist, because he does not see or hear it, it is time for him, if he is a Catholic, to consider from the point of view of his faith what stand he should take, and what is his duty toward the poor and toward society in the crisis the struggles of laborers for power in the state will soon bring on in this country of universal suffrage. It is not merely a question of giving and distributing alms and assistance that is to be solved, but great problems of social organization and rights are put before us. We must decide, (1) what there is in the labor movement that religion approves and encourages; (2) what there is in it religion condemns; and (3) what it contains that is merely temporal or indifferent to the church.

It certainly has something of each of these three elements.

In any way the matter is approached it presents a religious as well as a political question to be solved, a religious as well as a political duty to be performed; for it involves the rights of the poor on us, and our duty to themas Christians. What if the demands of the laborers were just, and that, notwithstanding this, we should oppose them? While socialism, as a whole, should be opposed, it is admitted that the present poor-laws and charitable institutions are insufficient, and some more thorough system of relief must be adopted. The working-men insist that this shall be done, and for this purpose claim to elect those who are to govern the state, and make the laws. Religion cannot neglect to interfere without leaving multitudes of souls of the poor to be seduced into the naturalism, sensualism, and infidelity the socialists purpose as the consummation of the movement. Nor does the question of our religious duty toward the poor in this crisis cease to demand an answer upon a mere refutation of socialistic theories. It does not suffice to show that the Utopias of Babœuf, Owen, Cabet, St. Simon, Fourier, and Noyes are abominable, but the just principle of economic distribution must be found and applied under penalty of eternal anarchy. The negation of one medicine as unfit does not dispense from finding another that will cure, when, indeed, a disease exists; and we take it for granted that no Christian who has heard or read of the successive burdens and hardships of the poor operatives and peasants of Europe will say that there is no disease to be cured, or who is heartless enough to abandon the case on the ground that it is incurable. Certain it is that the hard-working poor will not concede that they suffer no injustice—will not cease to demand permanent relief; and if religion ignores, denies, or abandons the sick, they will resort to philosophical quacks, who will lead them to their moral and religious ruin. Worse; as foreseen by his holiness Pius IX., they will repeat the apostasy of the French revolution, and with the same sacrilegious and despotic spirit, but with more cunning and method, prohibit religion itself.

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