III.
The reader asks, no doubt, what is the final impression produced by the spectacle of the dancing procession, and how we should estimate this strange ceremony? I will try to answer the double question clearly. In the first place, one must see the procession with one’s own eyes to judge it fairly. The public must beware of newspaper reports, which are numerous and usually wholly incorrect, not to use a more uncivil term. There is no name which certain papers have not applied to the subject; for correspondents of a farcical turn amuse themselves every year at the expense of a credulous public. We may say, _en passant_, that no class of beings can be more contemptible than reporters hunting for a sensation—travelling bagmen of the press who are allured by scandal as the vulture is by a carcase. It is easy to fancy what the ceremony at Echternach must have become under their pen. The very name of dancing procession makes them scent a topic, and, devoid of all religious feeling, they describe first and judge afterwards a spectacle they are incapable of understanding. Their descriptions are so unfaithful that you doubt whether the good people ever saw the procession, or whether they did not write the account before going to the ceremony. They give caricatures of a mass of humanity entangled in frightful confusion and bounding with all their strength to the sound of a gigantic hubbub. The ranks get mingled; the dancers crush each other and spring about, regardless of the toes of their neighbors, who scream for mercy. With rubicund faces streaming with perspiration, and with eyes starting from the sockets, these wretched fanatics would die rather than pause. On all sides numbers give up in despair and drop breathless among their barbarous companions. Sometimes they are drawn out of the crowd by compassionate persons and restored to life, but no one in the procession stops for anything, and the pitiless Catholic _bamboula_ goes on and on, sowing devastation at every step. I spare the reader further details and give only the canvas of an embroidery more or less varied according to the imaginative powers of the correspondent. In short, despite the diversity of some details easy to add, this fancy sketch has appeared in nearly all the anti-religious papers in Belgium, and will end in being stereotyped. It is needless to say that it is false throughout. Among ten thousand persons who were dancing I did not see one give out. Also, contrary to another assertion, the number of epileptics and other invalids in the procession is very small. I saw in all five or six persons evidently afflicted with nervous diseases.
After reading this high-toned description, flavored with a few Voltairean jests of the old type, it is natural to pronounce the procession of Echternach an absurdity. The sarcasms of free-thinkers annually assail the venerable ceremony, but without injuring it. In fact, it is irreverent enough in this nineteenth century to increase in importance. Eye-witnesses of the strange spectacle always retain an impressive memory of it. I confess to having been rather prejudiced against the grotesque scenes I expected to see. At the end of a quarter of an hour I was convinced of the powerful religious character of this great public act, and I remarked that all the spectators shared my feeling. Any one must have a singularly empty mind and heart not to be struck by the grandeur of the scene. Those who always take a petty view of things, because they can take no other, may laugh at the discordant music and the clumsy dancing of some of the pilgrims. For myself, when I see the same belief, centuries old, translated by thousands of men into bold, spontaneous action, I cannot restrain my admiration. Before the intrepidity with which these men, trampling under foot all human respect, honor with consecrated rites their patron saint, I feel moved and impressed. Where is there such faith left in Israel? “When I hear the old tune,” said one of the most honorable _bourgeois_ of Echternach to me, “and when I see the first pilgrims arrive, I feel something circulate between my flesh and skin that makes me fairly shiver.” A young student of the town said to me very prettily: “I do not care much for the dancing of the grown people, but the sight of the dancing children carries me back to my own happy childhood, and my eyes fill with tears.”
These feelings are unanimous. You see once in a while in the crowd a travelling clerk on his vacation hazarding a timid and colorless sarcasm which a generous public passes over unnoticed. Beyond dispute, the sight of the procession exercises a moral and religious influence. Like incredulity, faith is contagious; timid spirits feel strengthened in this region where the breath of Catholic life circulates so freely; sick hearts come out renewed from the spectacle of thousands of Christians revealing the true remedy for human woe. The people of Luxembourg, essentially serious and meditative, understand the aim of the ceremony; its quaintness does not prevent them from seeing it as it really is—a great and solemn affirmation of faith, at once an act of penance and a prayer, to be preserved in the original form out of respect to their ancestors and veneration for the saint. Whatever the origin of this ancient custom,[175] it deserves to be preserved not only because it fosters and develops religion in the people, but because it revives before our eyes, in the most picturesque way, the manners of our fathers, whose least traces historians and archæologists are jealous to discover. A Luxembourg writer says well on this subject: “We preserve with scrupulous fidelity old monuments and objects of antique art. Why not do our best to preserve in its original type this remarkable procession, this monument graven in the living hearts of our brethren?”[176]
Footnote 175:
I have given the two current opinions on the origin of the dancing procession. I share neither, and hope my different explanation clear by weight of proof.
Footnote 176:
Krier, _Dancing Procession_, p. 55. This author wrote his work first briefly in French, then in German with more details. The latter is a serious and interesting work as regards the ceremony. It is also an edifying appeal from a Christian priest to his brethren.
The intelligent town of Echternach perfectly understands that it is incumbent upon its honor to respond to this wish. It has neglected nothing in the cause, and at various times has had to surmount great obstacles. The administrative prohibitions of Joseph II., the brutalities of the French Revolution, the petty opposition of the Dutch government, have not discouraged them; they have held faithfully to their patriotic tradition, and have no cause to repent it, for they find in this devotion a source of great prosperity. Their unalterable attachment is the more remarkable because even the clergy have often been opposed to the procession. In 1777 the Prince Elector of Treves, Clement Wenceslaus—under the reign of the Febronians, I should add—actually forbade the dance, and thus furnished excuse to Joseph II. to forbid it also a little later. To-day quite a number of the clergy look unfavorably on these extraordinary demonstrations of faith. They think religion is compromised by associating it with practices which, without being bad in themselves, may provoke the mockery of the incredulous and alienate them farther from the church. This opinion, based, of course, on a sincere devotion to religious interests, appears to me an unconscious and useless concession to the petty spirit of the age, which is never satisfied with half-measures. Anti-religious fanaticism will not be appeased by our throwing to it as a sop a small portion of Catholic treasure. What it wants is the entire suppression of religion. To yield any point whatever will only serve to whet its appetite and augment its pretensions.
Far from sharing these fears, I think that in these days of struggle it is important to oppose the faith as a whole to unbelief as a whole, and not yield an inch of ground, unless we wish to lose all. From the earliest days of Christianity there have been people who took scandal at faith which goes beyond what is strictly necessary; among Christ’s apostles there were those who blamed Magdalen for anointing the feet of her Master with precious ointment. It is instructive to remember that it was Judas who showed himself most shocked by what he called useless expense. We may be sure that, as a general rule, the enemies of the church detest all her practices and would like to see them every one abolished. Give them the dance of Echternach to-day; to-morrow they will demand the suppression of the procession itself, and soon after they will wish to close the church where the saint’s relics are venerated. We know something of this in Belgium. Because we submitted to the proscription of jubilee processions last year, we have had to resign ourselves this year (1876) to seeing God in the Eucharist confined to the temple; and we shall see worse things still, if we do not guard against them in time. It would, therefore, be mere folly to sacrifice to interested claimants a venerable custom, dear to whole populations and full of poetry and originality. “But why dance?” you ask. “Cannot faith be shown in some other way?” Of course it can. Do not let us kneel down to pray, or stand uncovered before holy images, or make the sign of the cross, or do a hundred other things equally useless, strictly speaking. Yet who would propose to give them up? There is in the heart of man a powerful, mysterious tendency to express the inner feelings of the soul by symbolical actions. Thence come these many ceremonies which have no sense in themselves, and all owe their worth to a hidden significance. The dance of Echternach has no other origin; it is the symbolical representation of the sentiments of joyful confidence which the people feel in the holy patron of their town. In every age joy has been expressed by dancing, and among those who blame the custom of Echternach may there not be some one who has danced for joy at hearing good news? Many examples could be cited since David danced before the Ark of the Alliance down to our own days, so readily do these impetuous emotions of the soul translate themselves into movements of the body.
Still, the church, while introducing into her ceremonies a rich and varied symbolism, has never admitted dancing; and this prudent reserve is to be admired because dancing, harmless in itself, is one of those dangerous things which can, according to time and place, produce deplorable abuses. With the same wise moderation she has not absolutely forbidden it; and where the practice has been introduced naturally, and has become a part of popular devotion, she has tolerated it, as at Echternach, and even encouraged it because she saw in it clearly a religious element. Nothing is more wonderful in the church than this perfect wisdom, this superior good sense, with which she regulates great social and political questions and decides the petty details of individual life. Her attitude towards this ancient ceremony is as clear and correct as possible; she mildly favors it in spite of its strange forms, and refuses to blame these unless they become an occasion of scandal. From the moment that the dance should lose its traditional character of austere and respectable devotion, and become a pretext of pleasure and disorder, it would be at once condemned by the church and would fall into discredit. Thank God! that day is not near, and the procession of Echternach will still outlive many a kingdom and empire.
As a matter of course, it will be discussed as long as it lasts, and will always have adversaries and partisans. Prose and poetry will for ever dispute over human society, and will seek to model it after two opposite fashions. We live to-day in a prosaic age. Prose triumphed with the French Revolution and has passed through western Europe with a hammer, destroying, together with works of art, all the flower of Catholic institutions and habits. They will revive, but slowly, and this generation will not see their complete restoration. Now, despoiled of all which lent a charm to existence, society languishes in a desert of monotony. Rhythm, so to speak, has disappeared from our lives with that glorious succession of festivals, customs, memories, and hopes which surrounded us from the cradle to the grave. All that was Catholic poetry; it enlivened the existence of the poor laborer, and made of a peasant, attached to the soil and toiling for his master, a happier man, more contented with himself, than workmen in the cities who get a good salary and enjoy their independence. There is in the human soul a sublime aspiration after beauty and poetry which nothing can destroy, and its wings grow strong as they meet with resistance. Does not the tedium which has devoured the last generation betray a sense of want and an aspiration after Catholic life with its artistic magnificence and poetic influences? Humanity is tending in that direction, and has already met the enemy who would bar the way. Thence comes the loud and terrible struggle which tears the whole earth, and of which we may, without presumption, hope to see the close.
The procession of Echternach, like the mysteries of Oberammergau in Upper Bavaria, is a precious relic of the old popular poetry of Catholicity translated into the habits of life. That is its true and complete meaning. It is neither more nor less; it is not an act of worship nor a vulgar profanation. It stands on that boundary line where the church condescends to popular feeling and makes the hard road through life easier by her help. It is the natural fruit of popular devotion which sprang from a religious feeling and has been preserved with respectful piety. It could not be imitated or transplanted; like generous wine, it would lose the flavor of the soil if it were cultivated on strange land. It is only possible there where all is harmonious with it. One must have a studied hostility towards religious things to fail to see its æsthetic character, even without recognizing the sincerity and the venerable tone of the old custom. Some people fall into ecstasies over Grecian theories and the beautiful religious dances sculptured on the metopes of the Parthenon. Others devote their lives to the study of the chorus in ancient tragedies and its evolutions on the stage. I do not say that the dance of Echternach, as such, is comparable to these choreographic works of art, but why refuse to a Christian practice in use among our fathers the benevolent attention lavished on pagan society? Has it not a double claim to study in the fact that we received it from our Catholic ancestors? For five centuries, at least, it has lived and flourished among the populations of the Ardennes and its surroundings. Every year it draws from their homes thousands of these sedentary peasants; it furrows with the steps of pilgrims the long, white, desert roads of Luxembourg; it draws together in fraternal relations men far removed from each other, by the same prayers and the same emotions; it lifts towards heaven in unalloyed joy their faces bowed pitilessly earthward all the rest of the year. It teaches them to know beyond their own fireside and parish the great Christian family of which they are members, and leaves in their memory for all the rest of the summer and through the long winter evenings ineffaceable impressions of peaceful happiness. That is poetry, it seems to me, and of the best kind; more is the pity for those who cannot feel it. As the name of _pèlerinard_ is not one that frightens or mortifies me, I will assert that the ancient procession of Echternach inspired me with unlimited admiration, that it edified, moved, and consoled me, and appeared to me a most charming episode in the great, mournful epic of human life.
THE PAN-PRESBYTERIANS.
After two years of careful preparation the great Pan-Presbyterian Council has assembled; has eaten seven luncheons in public and at the public expense, and a corresponding number of breakfasts, dinners, and suppers in private and at private cost; and has dispersed; its members talked much—but these were their only deeds. The labor of the Pan-Presbyterian mountain brought forth not even a mouse. Its promise was large; its performance was ludicrously small—so small that the leading journals of England appear to have been almost unaware of the existence of the Pan-Presbyterians, while the principal organ of opinion in the Scotch city where the council was held—“close to the grave of John Knox, the founder of Presbyterianism”—gave to the record of its proceedings not so much space as it often devotes to the report of a local synod, and dismissed it at its close with good-humored but contemptuous ridicule. Here, however, the ingenuous reader may inquire, “Who are the Pan-Presbyterians, and for what purpose were they in council?” The question would be a natural one, and he who propounds it need not blush for his ignorance. The people of Scotland may be presumed to know all that is worth knowing about Presbyterianism in all its forms; but it appears that in certain rural districts of that very Presbyterian land the impression prevailed that Pan-Presbyterian was the title of a new sect indigenous to America, and recently smuggled into Scotland like the Colorado beetle; while in the more learned circles of Edinburgh this bucolic delusion was derided by erudite philologists, who explained that “Pan-Presbyterianism is a learned form of stating that Presbyterianism is Everything, and that a Pan-Presbyterian is a person who holds that comprehensive yet exclusive doctrine.” In point of fact, however, the Pan-Presbyterians were simply three hundred and twenty-five gentlemen, most of them with the handle of reverend to their names, who claimed to be the delegated representatives of the various Presbyterian sects throughout the world. From time to time some of the almost innumerable Protestant sects show that they are ashamed of their sectarianism. Those of them who recognize at all the fact that Jesus Christ established _one_ church in the world are uneasy when they remember that they are members only of a sect which has a human origin. This feeling, if rightly nurtured and obeyed, would lead those who entertain it into the fold of the church; but prejudice, pride, ignorance, and self-interest too often stand in the way, and lead to attempts to satisfy the natural Christian yearning for unity by projects for the amalgamation of a few of the sects into one body. Thus we have had a Pan-Anglican Congress, a Bonn Conference, and an Evangelical Alliance; and now this Pan-Presbyterian Council. Presbyterianism has a history of about three hundred and twenty-five years, and in this period it has succeeded in dividing and subdividing itself, until even its own doctors do not know with exactness how many different kinds of Presbyterians there may be, or in what manner the points of doctrine which separate them should be formulated. It was suggested at the council that accurate information upon this subject was desirable, and the task of obtaining it was entrusted to a committee, who hope they may be able to report in three years’ time. The project for the Pan-Presbyterian Council was originated by an eminent American Presbyterian minister—President McCosh, of Princeton (New Jersey) College; and it took definite shape at a meeting held in London in 1875, when “the alliance of the reformed churches throughout the world holding to the Presbyterian system” was organized. Before the council could be summoned, however, careful precautions had to be taken in order to prevent the assemblage, which was to meet for the promotion of unity, from breaking up in a row and resulting in the establishment of one or more new schisms. A charm of novelty was thus imparted to the undertaking; every one felt that a Presbyterian synod which could hold its sessions without a free fight would indeed be a new spectacle. The harmony of the council was to be assured beforehand by forbidding it to exercise any authority whatsoever. It was especially prohibited from attempting to “interfere with the existing creed or constitution of any church in the alliance, or with its internal order or external relations.” Thus the door was opened for the admission of the representatives of sects who are almost as wide apart from each other in what they believe and teach as they are from the church. So long as they called themselves Presbyterians, or “held to the Presbyterian system of church government,” it was enough. There is a Presbyterian sect in Holland whose pastors, at least, teach that the Bible is not an inspired book, and who deny the divinity of Christ; there is a Presbyterian sect in France which avows the boldest rationalism; there are Presbyterian sects in the United States who rejoice with exceeding great joy in the belief that there are millions of infants not a span long frying in hell; and there are others who have recoiled so far from Calvinism that they have fallen into Universalism. In Scotland itself bitter strife prevails between the various Presbyterian sects on such questions as the connection of the state with the church, the binding force of the “Standards,” and the extent and nature of the Atonement; and there is a large party which is declaring that if a certain reverend professor, who has written to prove that parts of the Bible are forgeries, myths, or fables, is disciplined for that expression of opinion, they will revolt and help him to set up a sect of his own. But the Pan-Presbyterians resolved to concern themselves with none of these things. Everything unpleasant was to be avoided; unity was to be talked about, but no attempt to effect it by defining truth or denouncing error was to be made. Even with these restrictions the promoters of the council realized the danger of their experiment, and at the last moment they diminished its perils by enacting that no one should speak twice on the same subject, and that the discourses should be limited from twenty to ten minutes each. The latter provision, which was stringently enforced, more than once saved the council from painful scenes. We had occasion, when writing in these pages six months ago,[177] to show that in the Presbyterian body in Scotland theoretical infidelity had made such headway and had obtained so firm a foothold that to deny the inspiration of the Bible, and to cast doubt upon the authenticity of the miraculous events recorded in its pages, was regarded by a powerful section as an evidence of profound scholarship and of a fearless love for truth, rather than as a proof that the advocates of these opinions had ceased to be worthy of the name and position of Christian teachers. In a word, the condition of the Presbyterian sects throughout the world was such that a general council of its leading men was highly desirable, provided that there remained in the sects anything worth saving, and they possessed in themselves the power of saving it. For ourselves, we believe that the mutilated fragments of Christian truth still retained by the majority of the Presbyterian laity and by a considerable number of the Presbyterian ministers are well worth saving; but we fear that the Presbyterians themselves will not, or cannot, save them. If these Pan-Presbyterians were truly representative men, then, we should say, it is all up with Presbyterianism. The spirit which conceived the council and which governed its proceedings was the spirit of cowardice, of temporary expediency, of prophesying smooth things, and, if we must speak with entire plainness, the spirit of utter and base unfaithfulness to God’s revealed truth, even to that version of his revealed truth which the Presbyterians profess with their lips, and which they have formulated in their own creeds, confessions, and catechisms. In the face of the fact that on the Continent of Europe their co-religionists are rapidly becoming Unitarians, rationalists, and infidels; that in Scotland German rationalistic philosophy has won its way into their theological schools and poisoned the very fountains of their ecclesiastical learning, so that it has now become notorious that a large share of their ministers either do not believe what they preach or else preach that which is in irreconcilable antagonism to the “Standards”; and that in America the Presbyterian bodies are drifting into Socinianism on one hand, and back into the hardest and most repulsive form of Calvinism on the other—in view of all these undeniable facts, or rather with assumed and predetermined blindness to them, the chosen representatives of the Presbyterian sects assemble, spend seven days in talking with each other, and separate without uttering a word or performing an act in affirmation or defence or vindication of absolute and divine truth. No! That was not in the programme; it was only on condition that nothing of the kind should be attempted that the council was got together at all; it was only because this promise was observed that the council managed to do its talking and to disperse in peace. At one of its meetings a curious scene occurred. A woman—an earnest Presbyterian of the old sort, a spiritual descendant of Jennie Geddes—had made her way into the council, and had listened to the debate for some time in silence; but her emotions at last overcame her, and, rising to her feet, she politely informed the chairman that she hoped God’s lightning would come down and strike the assembly for its unfaithfulness. This irate lady was indiscreet; but she only expressed, we suppose, the feelings of many an honest Presbyterian. The council, however, was wise in its generation, and it must be confessed that it acted upon strictly Protestant principles. The essence of Protestantism is a revolt against supreme authority; it is the affirmation of the idea that one man’s opinion is as good as another’s, and perhaps better. An attempt to provide means for an organic unity of the sects represented would have ended in a free fight; the affirmation of positive truths condemnatory of the heresies which honey-*comb the sects was impossible so long as the bargain by which these heresies were to be ignored was carried out.
Footnote 177:
See THE CATHOLIC WORLD for April.
The official programme of the work of the council was thus conceived:
“To consider questions of general interest to Presbyterians; to strengthen and protect weak and persecuted churches; to explain and extend the Presbyterian system; and to discuss subjects of church work—evangelization, training of ministers, use of the press, colportage, suppression of intemperance, observance of the Sabbath, systematic beneficence, and the suppression of Romanism and infidelity.”
We must here record, with a grateful heart, that “Romanism” came off very lightly. We are not certain that for this crowning mercy we are not indebted to those wily fellows, the Jesuits. For it was observed that, whenever one of the speakers began to adduce evidence that the Pope was Antichrist, the chairman suddenly discovered “that time was up”; and it was likewise remarked that more than one soul-stirring revelation of the diabolical seductions of the Scarlet Woman was cut short by the announcement that “the luncheon hour had arrived, and that Bailie McTavish would preside”—an intimation which never failed to empty the hall. Now, there are Jesuits in Scotland—no less than a score of them—and that they are quite equal to the task of devising means like these for their protection cannot be doubted by any enlightened Protestant mind. As for the twin sister of Romanism—infidelity—that escaped almost scot free. The learned and pious delegates fought shy of the subject; it was felt to be a dangerous one.
The council began its sessions in the Free Assembly Hall, Edinburgh, on the 4th of July. It was found to consist of 325 members, of whom 238 were regularly-appointed delegates, and 87 were honorary, or associate, delegates. Thirty-one of the delegates were from the Continent of Europe; Scotland, England, Wales, and Ireland sent 92 delegates; the colonies 30; and the United States 85. The American delegates had brought with them 32 “associates”; and it was, perhaps, in order to guard against bulldozing on the part of the Americans that the Scotch delegates appointed on the spur of the moment 48 “associates” to sit with their delegates and thus maintain a proper balance of power. The precaution was not unnecessary; even after it had been adopted the Americans did far more than their share of the talking. The established church of Scotland, in appointing its delegates to the council, had instructed them to take a high and mighty attitude, and to refrain from doing or saying anything which would imply that they had been sent there to treat on terms of equality with the representatives of the other sects. The American delegation was respectable for its ability, and the ultra-orthodox element was dominant in it. The two hostile camps into which the handful of French Presbyterians are divided were both represented; and so were the two Presbyterian sects of Holland. There were enough Presbyterians in Belgium to send one delegate, and no more. The German Presbyterians declined to be officially represented, and the three German members of the council came as volunteers. Bohemia and Hungary had their delegates; Switzerland sent some gentlemen who were rather sat upon; the modern inheritors of the old Waldensian heretics were the constituents of a delegate who had little to say; and the remainder of the thirty-one European delegates were representatives of “the missionary churches” in Italy, Spain, and Greece. As nearly as could be ascertained, there are about fifty different Presbyterian sects, and it was estimated that more than half of these were represented in the council. But the delegates were not endowed with any power to act, or even to speak officially, in the name of their respective constituents. Those of the sects in Switzerland, Germany, Bohemia, and Hungary which have a connection with the state had either refused to be represented at all or had permitted their members to attend only as individuals. This complete absence of everything like legislative or judicial power in the council is a sufficient apology for its failure to promulgate new decrees or to define any dogma. But had the Pan-Presbyterians been of one mind and heart, they might at least have lifted up their united testimony, in some shape or other, in defence of those cardinal truths of Christianity which are now assailed, all the world over, by men in their own ranks. This they did not venture to do, for the reason that, had they tried to do it, their congress would have ended in a row.
The opening sermon of the council was preached by Professor Flint, who took for his text the prayer of our Lord for the unity of his church, and whose discourse was an argument to the effect that when the Founder of the church prayed that his followers “all may be one,” he intended that they should be all divided. “A universal church,” says Professor Flint, “was as grandiose and diseased a dream as was a universal empire”; and he warned the council against striving after organic unity even among the fifty separate Presbyterian sects. The adoption of the rules of order, which provided that the meetings “should be opened shortly with prayer,” caused a member to complain that it was very awkward to use the word “shortly” in connection with prayer; but the chairman replied that while it was awkward it was very necessary, else they would have nothing but praying. The first subject of discussion was “Harmony of Reformed Confessions,” which were divided into three classes—ante-Calvinistic, Calvinistic, and post-Calvinistic. These originally were not intended to be formulas, but only apologies—“vindications of the Protestant faith against Romish misrepresentation and slander.” For a while these confessions maintained their supremacy, but now “they have lost their authority in almost every country except England, Scotland, and the United States”; and each church interprets the Scriptures to suit itself, even upon such grave questions as “reprobation and infant salvation.” Should the council@ leave this matter in its present indefinite state, or should it undertake to formulate a new confession to which all Presbyterians should subscribe? A Swiss delegate ventured the startling suggestion that if such a confession were formulated “the Divinity of Christ should be the central stand-point in it”; and another delegate produced the draught of a new dogmatic constitution, in thirty-one articles, which had been obligingly formulated by Professor Kraft, of Bonn, who had patched it up from the various confessions and had sent it to the council with his compliments. Principal Brown, of Aberdeen, remarked that it would be extremely desirable that this or some other similar constitution should be adopted, or something else done, chiefly “in order to silence—no, it would not do that—but to put to shame the calumny of the Church of Rome, which said that the Reformed churches were divided into as many distinct and conflicting religions as there were sects of them. The more intelligent Romanists knew this was false” (then we cannot be classed among the more intelligent Romanists), “but it suited them all the same to say it and repeat it, because it had a certain pithy and plausible sound. And Presbyterians were there to testify that it was false, and that in all that was substantial and vital in Christianity the Reformed churches were practically one.” After this bold declaration it would have been naturally in order to take the step necessary to prove it. But canny Professor Brown hastened to add that, on second thoughts, he was of the opinion that the council had better leave the matter alone and not attempt any unity save that of “sympathy.” Professor Candlish lamented that “there was not now that lively sense of the unity and harmony of the Reformed confessions that there once was.” In fact, no one knew exactly what changes the various churches had made in the “Standards,” and he thought it would be interesting, at least, to collect information on that point, so as to ascertain how many different Presbyterian beliefs there were. Dr. Lang, of Glasgow, warned the council that it was treading on dangerous ground. “There were deeper issues involved than merely touching the surface of their confessions: there was the whole question as to the authority and place of the Bible, and behind that the whole question of the supernatural.” The widest differences of opinion existed on these questions—every one knew that—but as long as possible let them be kept in the background. By covering them up, and avoiding “a restless and continual nig-nagging at the matter,” a sufficient degree of harmony could be maintained, at least for the present. A lay delegate, a lawyer, said that if the council once ventured to deal “with the very complicated, delicate, and difficult question of creeds,” there might be found many who would propose to solve the difficulty by dispensing with all creeds. Dr. Begg at this point boiled over, and read the council a severe lecture, expressing the disgust with which he had listened to some of the statements which had been made and apparently accepted.
“Every age had its own theology!—(laughter and applause)—he did not in the least believe that. Theology had been the same since the days of Eden. The idea of having a new theology at every stage was a blunder. (Laughter.) They heard of discoveries being made; but these discoveries were only resurrections of old errors. (Laughter.) He found a revolt against the divine authority and the divine Word—and the rebels were the discoverers of these new theologies.”
The discussion was now growing warm, but as it was announced that “the hour for luncheon had arrived, and that Mr. Stevenson, M.P., would preside,” the threatened fight was averted, and the subject was disposed of at a subsequent meeting by the passage of the following resolution:
“That this council appoint a committee with instructions to prepare a report to be laid before the next General Council, showing, in point of fact—1. What are the existing creeds and confessions of the churches composing this alliance, and what have been their previous creeds and confessions, with any modifications thereupon, and the dates and occasions of the same from the Reformation to the present day. 2. What are the existing formulas of subscription, if any, and what have been the previous formulas of subscription used in those churches in connection with their creeds and confessions. 3. How far has individual adherence to those creeds by subscription or otherwise been required from the ministers, elders, or other office-bearers respectively, and also from the private members of the same. And the council authorize the committee to correspond with members of the several churches throughout the world who may be able to give information; and they enjoin the committee, in submitting their report, not to accompany it either with any comparative estimate of those creeds or with any critical remarks upon their respective value, expediency, or efficiency.”
There was an unhappy and heated controversy concerning the appointment of some of the members of this committee, but this excitement was unnecessary. The information can all be obtained by the purchase of a few books and pamphlets; and as the committee is forbidden to accompany its report with “any critical remarks,” the presence upon it of a few rationalists or Universalists can do no mischief.
The remainder of the time of the council—and it sat thrice a day for a week—was occupied with talk. Nothing was done that was worthy of the name of action. Extracts from scores of religious essays were read; hundreds of little religious or semi-religious speeches were made; and that was all. We do not know what the Presbyterians here and elsewhere expected; but if they expected anything practical they have been sadly disappointed. Some of the little speeches were comic—as, for example, that of “the Rev. Mr. Robinson, of Louisville, U. S.,” who seems to have pursued antiquarian researches with startling results, since he has ascertained that Presbyterianism began with Abraham; that Moses was a member of the presbytery of Egypt; and that Elisha and Ezechiel were the moderators of the Presbyterian synods of Samaria and Jerusalem. Presbyterianism was the true form of government in the Jewish Church, and it was the general assembly of the Presbyterian Church of Judea that passed sentence of death on Jesus of Nazareth. Nay, according to this sprightly Kentucky divine, heaven itself will be a Presbyterian community, governed by a presbytery of four-and-twenty members. To listen to such excellent fooling as this; to read the essay laboriously prepared at home in Peoria or Dundee, and carefully rehearsed to admiring wife and wondering bairns for months before starting; to discuss, even in ten-minute speeches, such thrilling and novel themes as the uses of elders, the sinfulness of Sabbath-breaking, the advantages of assemblies, the wickedness of the Pope, and the unquestionable mental, moral, and religious superiority of Presbyterians in general, and Pan-Presbyterians especially, over all the rest of mankind—all this, no doubt, was pleasant enough to the participants; but it was scarcely the entertainment to which the outside world had been invited. True, there was voted, at the close of the council, and after an unusually hearty luncheon at which the brethren tarried long, “an address to the queen,” accompanied by what an Edinburgh journal irreverently describes as “unanimous votes of thanks to the Deity, Mr. A. T. Niven, C.A., and the lord provost.” Probably her majesty will never read the address, as it is a long one and does not call for a reply. But if she should peruse it, she will scarcely thank its authors for suggesting that she, too, is a Pan-Presbyterian, or that she changes her religion every time she crosses the Tweed. It appears something like an impertinence in the Pan-Presbyterians to write thus to the queen:
“We venture to indicate the deep interest which we take in the circumstance that, while residing in Scotland, your majesty joins in the Presbyterian worship and communion.”
The queen goes to a Presbyterian church when in Scotland because Presbyterianism is the religion of the state in Scotland, of which she is the head; and she goes to an Episcopalian church when in England because episcopacy is the religion of the state in England. If she were in India, and Mohammedanism were the state religion there, she would probably go to a mosque with the same good grace that she displays when sitting under the parish minister near Balmoral. The council also appointed a committee to see whether money could be raised for the publication of a mass of old treatises and essays upon Presbyterianism which no private publisher has ever thought of reprinting; and another committee to “consider” what could be reported to the next council—which, by the way, is to be held at Philadelphia in 1880, if the world and Pan-Presbyterianism be then in existence. That portion of the programme which promised “the suppression of infidelity” was not carried out; a day was spent in talking about the best methods of getting the better of Spencer, Darwin, Huxley, Bradlaugh, and the like, but the matter ended with the acceptance of the remark of Prof. Cairns, that disputation with such people is rather worse than useless, since they are well skilled in argument, and that the only thing to be done with them is to pray for them. As Americans we record with justifiable pride the encomiums bestowed upon the American delegates by the great Dr. Phin, and the still greater Dr. Begg. “Sound Christian doctrine,” said the first, “in this land has received a most powerful impulse from the addresses of the American brethren”; and Dr. Begg “rejoiced because of the firm tone which had characterized the addresses of the American speakers, as we require in Scotland an ecclesiastical tonic to brace us up to a firm maintenance of our own Scriptural principles.” The firm tone was not backed up by firm action, nor by any action at all; but, all the same, Dr. Begg is of the opinion that if the orthodox Presbyterians in Scotland could talk as their American brethren do, there would soon be an end to the croaking of “the frogs of infidelity that are coming into our churches like the frogs that went into Pharao’s bed-chamber.” But it may prevent some disappointment in the future to our American Presbyterian friends if we convey to them the warning uttered by the Edinburgh _Scotsman_ at the end of the council—a journal whose opinion on the affair is all the more valuable from the fact that its editor is a Presbyterian clergyman of renown who has abandoned the pulpit for the press:
“Meanwhile,” says the _Scotsman_, “what with choking 'frogs’ and covering up disputable subjects, the appearance of a complete, if not a completely beautiful, harmony was unquestionably produced. But it is only right to warn the Pan-Presbyterians that if they leave us with the notion that, because all is peaceful now, unity is established, they are the victims of a delusion. They may depart to their Swiss hamlets or their Transatlantic cities with psalm-tunes sounding peace within Jerusalem ringing in their ears, and imagine that after this most refreshing time the millennium has come when Dr. Phin and Dr. Blaikie will lie down together, and Dr. Marcus Dods and Dr. Moody Stewart will kiss each other. But, alas! shortly after they have told their deeply-affected flocks at home of the harmony which prevails in Bible-loving Scotland, some morning when Dr. Rufus Choate examines his Chicago _Trumpet_, and Dr. Brunnelhanner lays down his meerschaum to take up his paper, they will find that all the old dissensions have broken out again with alarming violence; that ministers who agreed on a platform of wood can agree upon no other; that Dr. Blaikie has attacked Establishments from love of their members, and has Dr. Pirie’s head in Chancery; that Dr. Phin has a new scheme to 'dish’ the Dissenters; that those who led the devotions are now leading the fray; that those who were at peace are not on speaking terms, or on terms in speaking which are very bad indeed; while those who lauded the agreement between confessions cannot agree amongst themselves as to what these confessions mean to say. The visit of the Pan-Presbyterians may, after all, share the fate that generally overtakes the other numerous excursionists who appear among us about this season. For the moment we may be struck by their numbers and their banners with their strange devices, and be moved to the heart, or even deeper, by their bass-drum and their instruments of brass; but when they have gone, if any memory of them remains, it is only of something that was loud and singular, but what it was or what it did there is nothing palpable to show.”
The Pan-Presbyterians repeated very often that, while they did not expect, or even desire, to effect “organic unity” between their various sects—that unity being, in their opinion, opposed to the will of God—they were, all the same, “one in spirit and in sympathy.” But the hollowness of even this pretence was manifested when an attempt was made to induce them to unite in what they call “partaking of the Lord’s Supper.” Toward the close of the council it was announced that “Dr. Moody Stewart and his session invited the members of council to communion at half-past twelve on Saturday.” Now, from a Catholic, or “Romanist,” point of view, it is rather surprising that a convention of eminent Christian ministers, assembled for what they professed to regard as the most important purposes, should have already spent several days without performing this supreme act of Christian devotion. But Pan-Presbyterian ways are not as our ways. Nevertheless, one would have supposed that, being thus invited to do what they had neglected, they would at least have received the invitation kindly. On the contrary, a most unhappy scene followed. The Orthodox Pan-Presbyterians were willing to talk with their unorthodox colleagues; they would eat luncheons with them, make speeches and read papers to them, and even listen to their speeches and papers in return; but when it came to “partaking of the sacrament” with them, they would not do it at any price. Dr. Phin at once protested against the idea that he, for one, could thus be yoked unevenly with unbelievers. “He happened to entertain certain old-fashioned ideas with respect to the dispensation of the Lord’s Supper” which would prevent him from joining in it unless he knew his company. For instance, there should be “the fencing of the tables”; and this fencing would surely shut out either the sheep or the goats. The “fencing of the tables,” it appears, is a curious custom prevalent in Scotland, and may be thus explained: an invitation to “the communion” is given, and then every one who wishes to receive it is scared off either by terrific denunciations of the awful guilt incurred by those who partake unworthily, or is compelled to pass a severe competitive examination as to the soundness of his faith and his acceptance of the “Standards.” Dr. Phin was, no doubt, correct in supposing that the application of these tests would produce unpleasant results, and his conscience would not permit him to assist at a communion where they were not applied. Dr. Begg took the same view, and “regretted that the invitation had been given.” The chairman—who on this occasion happened to be Dr. Ormiston, of New York—sought to get over the difficulty by suggesting that “it would be understood that nobody was committed except the gentlemen who took part in it,” and he added the remarkable declaration that “as members of council not one of them had any responsibility to the weight of a hair.” A lay member “protested against any administration of free communion in connection with the council”; and Dr. Blaikie said the committee had “taken every precaution that the council should not be committed in any way.” With this assurance the subject “was allowed to drop,” and when the time for the communion arrived only one hundred and thirty of the three hundred and twenty-five Pan-Presbyterians presented themselves to receive it—and among these neither Dr. Phin nor Dr. Begg was seen.
The Continental Pan-Presbyterians made a pitiful show for themselves during the council. Few of them could speak English; and the linguistic accomplishments of the majority of their colleagues being limited, they were compelled, when they spoke at all, to express themselves through an interpreter, which is not generally an exhilarating process. One of the French delegates said there were forty Presbyterian congregations in France without pastors, and he suggested that a collection might be made to aid in hiring men to fill these vacancies; but this hint was not taken. A volunteer member from Berlin read a sensible paper upon “missions,” in which he ridiculed the present system of Protestant missions, and said that their only fruits were the inculcation of hypocrisy and of pauperism among the so-called converts. On this same subject, by the way, one of the members put forth the novel idea that the conversion of one Jew was worth more than the salvation of a hundred pagans. Dr. Hoedemaker, of Amsterdam, said that the Presbyterians there had long been poisoned with the virus of rationalism, and that forty years ago “there were very few who preached the living Christ in his church”; but now, he hoped, there was some improvement. M. Decoppet, of the French Presbyterian body, complained that the sect could make no progress there, “because they were not allowed by the law to give a tract on the street or to deliver public lectures”; but still he was confident that “France would soon become a Protestant nation”—by the aid of M. Gambetta and the Reds, we presume. The representative of the Waldensian heretics apologized for the bad character of some of its ministers, but said that as fast as the false shepherds were detected they were expelled from the fold.
Politeness, perhaps, would command us to express our acknowledgments of certain courteous, sensible, and truthful things which were said about the church—as, for example, that “she was the mother of infidelity” and the fountain and origin of all civil, moral, and religious evil. But, on the whole, we think our readers will have had enough of the Pan-Presbyterians. Dr. Begg, at the last meeting of the council, said that “they saw the shadow of the great eclipse of Romanism again cast over the country.” We take this to be the Beggonian method of expressing the fact that the few Christians who remain in Scotland are on the way to return to the church of their forefathers—the church which civilized and Christianized Scotland, and which had the unhappiness to nurture in her bosom the apostate priest who was the father of Scotch Presbyterianism. Dr. Begg is not an infallible prophet, but such events as the Pan-Presbyterian council are calculated to hasten the event which he predicts. For the council has shown that the Presbyterian Church throughout the world, as represented by its chosen men, is undermined by infidelity, and that its existence, in their opinion, depends upon concealing this fact and pretending that no one has the right to proclaim it.
TRANSLATION FROM HORACE. ODE 14, BOOK 2.
_Eheu! fugaces, Postume, Postume!_
Alas! my Posthumus, our years Glide silently away; no tears, No loving orisons, repair The wrinkled cheek, the whitening hair, That drop forgotten to the tomb: Pluto’s inexorable doom Mocks at thy daily sacrifice; Around his dreary kingdom lies That fatal stream whose arms enfold The Giant race accursed of old; All, all alike must cross its wave, The king, the noble, and the slave. In vain we shun the fields of war, And breakers dashed on Adria’s shore; Vainly we flee, in terror blind, The plague that walketh on the wind; The sluggish river of the Dead, Cocytus, must be visited; And Danaüs’ detested brood, Foul with their fifty husbands’ blood; And Sisyphus, with ghastly smile Pointing to his eternal toil. All must be left: thy gentle wife, Thy home, the joys of rural life; And when thy fleeting days are gone, Th’ ill-omened cypresses alone Of all those fondly-cherished trees Shall grace thy funeral obsequies, Cling to thy loved remains, and wave Their mournful shadows o’er thy grave. A lavish but a nobler heir Thy hoarded Cæcuban shall share, And on the tessellated floor The purple nectar madly pour, Nectar more worthy of the halls Where Pontiffs hold their festivals.
S. E. DE V.
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
PUBLIC LIBRARIES IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA; their History, Condition, and Management. Special Report. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Education. 1876.
In 1874 the Commissioner of the Bureau of Education in the Department of the Interior at Washington began the preparation of a complete Report on the Public Libraries in the United States; on the 31st of August, 1876, the report was submitted; it was printed, and it makes a volume of 1,187 pages. A careful study of the contents of this unique work compels us to express, in the first place, our most cordial appreciation of the great labor which has been expended upon it, and of the value of the information which it contains. The size of the volume, we fear, has deterred many into whose hands it has fallen from more than glancing over its pages; we confess for ourselves that we shrank, for a while, from the task of reading it. But we have been amply repaid for our toil, which soon became a pleasure; and we may say here that we have seen in foreign periodicals and journals a number of highly eulogistic and discriminating reviews of the report. We propose to make our readers share in the satisfaction we have derived from our study of this work; but our space will permit us only to give a condensed summary of a portion of its contents.
No less than 132 pages of the report are taken up with a table giving the statistics of all the “public libraries” in the United States and Territories numbering 300 volumes or more, excepting common or district school libraries. The table is as complete as it could be made from the returns received in 1875-76; but it is incomplete, because many of the libraries named in it do not report the date of their foundation, their average annual increase in books, their financial condition, or their yearly expenditures. But with all these defects the table is extremely valuable. It shows, to begin with, that the total number of these libraries is 3,647, having as their total number of volumes 12,276,964. We pause here for a moment to say that the report also shows that in the district-school libraries, not included in the table, there are 1,365,407 volumes, and that in all the libraries there are about 1,500,000 pamphlets not classed as “volumes.” The census of 1870 showed that there were 107,673 private libraries, containing 25,571,503 volumes, exclusive of those which may be in the State of Connecticut, from which State no returns on this subject were received. Here, then, we have a total of 39,213,874 volumes of books in the public, private, and school libraries of the country—a mass of printed matter large enough, estimating each volume to weigh a pound, to fill nine merchant vessels of 2,000 tons burden each. Let us also in this place give the following list of the number of volumes in several noted libraries in other countries, with the remark that, as the statistics of these libraries differ widely according to different authorities, we have in each case taken the highest number given, and that this number relates only to books, and not to manuscripts or pamphlets, fugitive publications, etc.:
Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris 2,000,000 Mazarin Library, Paris 160,000 Royal Library, Madrid 200,000 Convent Library of the Escorial, Madrid 130,000 Vatican Library, Rome 1,000,000 Magliabecchíana Library, Florence 200,000 Laurentian Library, Florence 120,000 Museo Borbonico, Naples 200,000 University Library, Bologna 200,000 Brera Library, Milan 200,000 Ambrosian Library, Milan 140,000 University Library, Turin 150,000 Royal Library, Berlin 700,000 Royal Library, Dresden 500,000 University Library, Breslau 350,000 University Library, Göttingen 400,000 Ducal Library, Wolfenbüttel 300,000 University Library, Freiburg 250,000 Royal Library, Stuttgart 450,000 Royal Library, Munich 900,000 Royal Library, Copenhagen 550,000 Bodleian Library, Oxford 700,000 Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh 300,000 University Library, Edinburgh 130,000 Imperial Library, St. Petersburg 1,100,000 City Library, Augsburg 150,000 University Library, Cambridge 400,000 City Library, Frankfort 150,000 Ducal Library, Gotha 240,000 City Library, Hamburg 300,000 City Library, Leipsic 170,000 University Library, Leipsic 350,000 British Museum, London 1,020,000
In these 33 libraries in the Old World there are 14,110,000 volumes, exclusive of manuscripts, or 1,833,176 more volumes than we have in all of our 3,647 public libraries. We say nothing of the comparative value of the collections, for of course there is no comparison between a collection which has been accumulating for a thousand years and one which was made yesterday. But we have no reason to be ashamed of our American public libraries; on the contrary, as the report which we are reviewing abundantly shows, we have every reason to be proud of them. We take from this report the following table:
Whole number of public libraries 3,647
Whole number of volumes 12,276,964
Average number of volumes 3,366
Yearly additions (1,510 reporting) 434,339
Yearly use of books (742 reporting) 8,879,809
Amt of permanent fund (1,722 reporting) $6,105,581
Yearly income (830 reporting) $1,398,756
Yearly expenditures for publications $562,407 (769 reporting)
Yearly expenditures for salaries, etc. $682,166 (643 reporting)
The 3,647 libraries are distributed among the various States and Territories as follows; and here we make our only complaint against the report—to wit, that its laborious and faithful editors have not furnished the footings, which we have been compelled to make for ourselves:
Alabama, 31 libraries; Alaska, 1 (the post library at Sitka, and now removed since the garrison has been withdrawn); Arizona, 3 (two of them being military libraries); Arkansas, 6; California, 87; Colorado, 8; Connecticut, 125; Dakota, 4 (two being military libraries); Delaware, 18; District of Columbia, 57 (31 of them belonging to the federal government); Florida, 6; Georgia, 44; Idaho, 1; Illinois, 177; Indiana, 133; Indian Territory, 4 (two of them military libraries); Iowa, 80; Kansas, 19; Kentucky, 72; Louisiana, 31; Maine, 85; Maryland, 77; Massachusetts, 453; Michigan, 89; Minnesota, 39; Mississippi, 23; Missouri, 87; Montana, 2; Nebraska, 14; Nevada, 6; New Hampshire, 86; New Jersey, 91; New Mexico, 4 (one of them a military library, and two of the others belonging to Catholic academies); New York, 617; North Carolina, 37; Ohio, 223; Oregon, 14; Pennsylvania, 367; Rhode Island, 56; South Carolina, 26; Tennessee, 71; Texas, 42; Utah, 5; Vermont, 65; Virginia, 63; Washington Territory, 2 (one of them a Catholic library); West Virginia, 23; Wisconsin, 73; and Wyoming Territory, 3.
These figures are suggestive in various ways, and many interesting and valuable inferences might be drawn from them. But a careful analysis of the other portions of the table would also be necessary in order to avoid mistakes; and the wholly unknown quantity in the problem—the comparative value of different collections—would imperil the accuracy of any deductions which might be made from the statistics in this table. For instance, the 31 libraries in Alabama contain 60,615 volumes—nearly 5,000 less than are in the New York Society Library alone. A library is a library, for the purposes of this report, if it contain 300 or more volumes, just as a book is a book although there may be nothing in it. Who is to say whether some of the smaller collections in the South are not really more valuable than the larger and newer libraries in the North? We fear it is not so; but there is no test by which to decide the question. If we leave this point, and turn our attention to the statistics relating to the principal libraries, we shall come upon more satisfactory ground.
The thirty-eighth chapter of the report, filling 273 pages, is devoted to a review of the public libraries of ten principal cities—Baltimore, Boston, Brooklyn, Charleston, Chicago, Cincinnati, New York, Philadelphia, St. Louis, and San Francisco. In these ten cities there are 471 public libraries with 3,447,628 volumes, viz.:
_Name of City._ _No. of Libraries_ _Volumes._ Charleston 6 26,600 Chicago 23 141,910 San Francisco 30 164,228 Brooklyn 21 165,112 St. Louis 31 170,875 Cincinnati 30 197,890 Baltimore 38 230,342 Philadelphia 102 707,627 Boston 68 734,741 New York 122 906,203 —- ————- Total 471 3,445,528
To this list we add, in order that the South may have justice done to her:
_Name of City._ _No. of Libraries_ _Volumes._ New Orleans 15 94,080 Louisville 6 65,897 Richmond 17 63,526
A library containing 10,000 volumes or more, if well selected, may be said to be a respectable collection. Now, there are no less than 266 libraries of this class in the United Slates, and they contain a total of 6,984,882 volumes—an average of 26,259 volumes in each. These 266 libraries, it will be seen, account for more than one half of the total number of volumes in all the public libraries, and they reduce the average number of volumes in the remaining 3,381 libraries to 1,565. But even a library with 1,500 good books is not to be despised.
The largest library in the United States is that of the National Congress at Washington, which has 300,000 volumes; and then follow:
Social Law Library, 299,869 Boston
Harvard University 227,650
Mercantile, New York 160,613
Astor, New York 152,446
Mercantile, Philadelphia 125,668
House of Representatives, 125,000 Washington
Yale College 114,200
Athenæum, Boston 105,000
These are the only libraries which have 100,000 volumes and more. Those which have 50,000 and less than 100,000 volumes are the
State Library at Albany 95,000
New York Society, New 65,000 York
Antiquarian Society, 60,497 Worcester
Peabody Institute, 57,458 Baltimore
Apprentices’, New York 53,000
Dartmouth College 52,550
Mercantile, Brooklyn 50,257
State University, Baton 50,000 Rouge
There are 10 libraries having more than 40,000 and less than 50,000 volumes; 23, with more than 30,000 and less than 40,000; 49, with more than 20,000 and less than 30,000; 52, with more than 15,000 and less than 20,000; 100, with more than 10,000 and less than 15,000; 264, with more than 5,000 and less than 10,000; 156, with more than 4,000 and less than 5,000; 236, with more than 3,000 and less than 4,000; 362, with more than 2,000 and less than 3,000; 762, with more than 1,000 and less than 2,000; and 925, with more than 500 and less than 1,000.
Of the whole number of 3,647 public libraries mentioned in this report, we find 221 which we recognize as those of Catholic institutions. There are no doubt others in the list, but there is no mark by which they can be certainly recognized. Of these 221 distinctively Catholic libraries the following are the chief:
_Place._ _Name._ _Origin._ _Vols._
San Francisco, St. Ignatius’ College, 1855 11,000
Santa Clara, Santa Clara College, 1851 10,000
Georgetown, Georgetown College, 1791 32,268
Washington, Gonzaga College, 1858 10,000
New Orleans, Libraire de la famille, 1872 15,000
Baltimore, Archiepiscopal, .... 10,000
Baltimore, Loyola College, 1853 21,500
Baltimore, St. Mary’s Seminary, 1791 15,000
Hagerstown, St. James’ College, 1842 11,000
Worcester, College of the Holy Cross 1843 12,000
St. Louis, College of the Christian 1860 22,000 Brothers,
Brooklyn, St. Francis’ College, .... 13,970
Fordham, St. John’s College, 1840 15,000
New York, St. Francis Xavier’s 1847 21,000 College,
Cincinnati, Mount St. Mary’s, 1849 15,100
Cincinnati, St. Xavier’s College, 1840 17,000
Latrobe, Penn., St. Vincent’s College, 1846 13,000
In these 17 Catholic libraries there are 264,838 volumes. It is a very respectable number, and, when the probable quality of the books contained in these collections is taken into account, the value of such comparatively small libraries will be seen to be great. The number of volumes in the other 204 Catholic libraries, as we have ascertained by a laborious examination of the tables, is 448,688, so that the total number of volumes in the distinctively Catholic libraries is 713,526. It is a large number of books; but one might complain that it was not larger. We are not sure that these complaints would be well founded. As Catholics we establish our own libraries, but as citizens we aid in the labor and share the cost of forming the general libraries, and we have our part in the advantages which they afford. It will always be our duty, of course, to exert our influence in preserving these collections of books from the contamination of the works of authors whose aim is to undermine morals and to destroy faith; and to introduce to their shelves the writings of the best and most able defenders and advocates of truth and religion. But this duty being well performed, we are free to aid in the work of building up our general libraries and in enjoying the pure intellectual delights which they may afford.
Thirty-eight pages of the report before us are devoted to a chapter upon Theological Libraries. A table is given of 44 of the principal theological libraries in the United States; they contain 528,024 volumes. Eight of them belong to Catholic theological seminaries and contain 71,600 volumes. The two largest of the theological libraries are those of the Union Theological Seminary of New York, and the Andover Theological Seminary, each of which contains 34,000 volumes. The report states that, with a few exceptions, the public theological libraries in this country are the libraries of theological seminaries. The exceptions are the General Theological Library in Boston, established in 1860, and now containing 12,000 volumes; and the library of the Congregational Association in the same city, which contains 22,000 volumes and 80,000 pamphlets. None of the theological libraries are 100 years old. The eldest of all of them is the library of St. Mary’s Theological Seminary of St. Sulpice in Baltimore, founded in 1791 by the Sulpician Fathers. It now contains 15,000 volumes. The report devotes considerable space to a dissertation upon “Catholic Libraries,” and its remarks upon this head are conceived in a kindly and enlightened spirit. “All learning,” writes the reporter, “is welcome to the shelves of Catholic libraries, and nothing is excluded from them that should not equally be excluded from any reputable collection of books. Nor will anti-Catholic works be found wanting to them, at least such as possess any force or originality. The history of the church being so interwoven with that of the world since the days of Augustus Cæsar, there is no period which is not redolent of her action, and consequently no history which does not have to treat of her, either approvingly or the reverse. In regard to general literature, she preserved ... all that has come down to us from classic sources, and therefore works of this character can be no strangers to shelves of Catholic libraries. Still less can the Sacred Scriptures be, which Catholic hands collected, authenticated, and handed down for the use of the men of our time. Nor will the sciences be overlooked by ecclesiastics in forming their libraries; for in past ages it was the care of their brethren, with such limited facilities as were at their command and in days inauspicious for scientific investigation, to cultivate them.” No new truths these; but they are well expressed, and it is worth something to have them set forth in a volume prepared by federal authority and published with federal approval. The report goes on to speak of the general characteristics of Catholic theological libraries. They contain, it says, abundant versions of the Sacred Scriptures in all languages, with copious commentaries and expositions; and the writer adds that the professors of our Catholic theological institutions “are generally graduates of the best theological schools in Europe.” He thus proceeds:
“Next in authoritative rank come the Fathers and Doctors of the church, from those who received instruction from the apostles themselves and committed their doctrine to writing, down to almost our own day; for St. Alphonsus Liguori, the latest on whom the Holy See has conferred the title of Doctor of the Universal Church, died only in the latter part of the last century, and his authority is that which is principally followed in the treatment of moral questions. Works also by later writers, principally on dogmatic subjects, are constantly appearing. The study of dogma embracing an investigation into all revealed truths, and therefore essential to those who are to instruct others authoritatively, involves a reference to many learned books in which proofs and illustrations are elaborated to the last degree of exactness, side by side with every possible difficulty or objection that can be brought to bear against each doctrine treated of. Some works are occupied with the discussion of but a single point; others take in a wide range, and some voluminous authors have published an entire course of dogma....” “The study of moral, the other great branch of Catholic theology, embraces a scrutiny into every question of morals that needs to be investigated by those who have the direction of consciences, or whose duty it is, in the tribunal of penance, to adjudicate upon matters affecting the rights of others. As solutions in these cases are sometimes attended with considerable difficulty, and a grave responsibility is attached to the delivery of an opinion, authorities for reference must be ample and exhaustive. Such authorities will be found in the theological libraries, and are relied upon in proportion to their world-wide repute, as representing the opinions of prudent, learned, and experienced men.”
The report goes on to speak of the reasons why every complete Catholic library must have copies of the published acts of the general councils of the church, and of national and provincial councils, as well as of the decisions and solutions of the various congregations at Rome, and other documents emanating from the Holy See. The supply of “works on ritual,” and those necessary for a thorough course of rational philosophy, must be ample, and there must be works on mathematics, physics, astronomy, meteorology, chemistry, and other sciences. We again quote:
“The attention given in these schools to sacred eloquence—for practice in which students are required to prepare and deliver sermons in presence of the community—calls for the best models of sacred oratory, besides works on rhetoric and elocution. As models of composition, arrangement, and intrinsic solidity, the sermons of the ancient fathers share equal attention with those of the great French orators of the last century, and no library for the use of ecclesiastics will be without a copious supply of the works of those and others of the best pulpit orators in the church. Catholic libraries in general—and not those alone which are attached to theological schools—will be found amply supplied with controversial works written by Catholic authors. These are needed, however, not so much for the use of the owners as for that of non-Catholic inquirers who wish to be enlightened in regard to some controverted point, or who desire to learn the evidences upon which the Catholic Church bases her claims to the credence of mankind. Catechetical works, of which there are a great number, answer this purpose still better when the polemic spirit has been allayed, and it is impossible to conceive of a Catholic library, large or small, without an abundance of both these classes of books. The controversial works discuss every objection which can be alleged against the church or the practice of members of it, and are necessarily very numerous. Every age has left behind it these testimonies to the controversies that agitated it, and the present age is no less prolific than its predecessors, though the grounds of dispute are shifting now rather from dogma to historical questions and matters of science, indicating the lessening hold which doctrine has on the non-Catholic mind.”
And again:
“Ecclesiastical history, of course, forms an important element in Catholic libraries; but this history not only includes the exhaustive tomes of writers who take in the whole history of the church, but of others who illustrate a particular age, country, event, or transaction. Works concerning the history of the church in the United States, or in
## particular States, form a growing collection. The current of
contemporary Catholic history is well shown forth through the monthly and weekly publications which appear in many countries and languages. The Catholic quarterlies, however, and some of the monthly publications, are devoted chiefly to literary or scientific criticism. The Catholic weeklies in this country are now so numerous that their preservation in libraries is seldom attended to. If this apology is needed for the absence from such libraries of publications that will form an important reference hereafter for others besides Catholics, it ought to be coupled with the suggestion proper to be made in a work which will be placed in the hands of persons of all religions: _that a general Catholic library ought to be established at some central point where every Catholic publication, at least among those issued in this country, may have a place. Materials for history would gather in such a collection that might not readily be found combined in any other._
“Having thus touched upon the more important characteristics of Catholic libraries, it would be well, perhaps, to observe that while the leading ones in this country are attached to seminaries, colleges, or religious houses, there are many private collections of considerable value, especially those in episcopal residences, or belonging to gentlemen of the clergy or laity who, together with literary tastes, possess the means to gratify them. Catholic libraries are also beginning to be formed in cities and towns, chiefly under the auspices of associations that seek to provide a safe and pleasant resort for young men in the evenings. In these libraries will be found the lighter Catholic literature, to which no reference has so far been made in this paper—travels, sketches, poems, tales, etc., a few of which are by American and some Irish authors, but the majority by English writers, chiefly converts, or translated from the French, German, Flemish, and other Continental languages. Finally, it would be well to observe that Catholic libraries are accessible for reference, if not for study, to all inquirers. In most cases non-Catholic visitors would doubtless be welcomed to them with great cordiality. _Those who have these libraries in keeping rather invite than repel scrutiny into whatever is distinctively Catholic in their collections._”
We regret that the limits of our space forbid us to dwell further upon the contents of this really fascinating volume. To use such an adjective in speaking of a “Blue-Book,” or an official report, may seem extravagant, but in this case it is not so. Its chapters upon the growth of libraries in the United States; college libraries; law, medical, and scientific libraries; libraries in prisons and reformatories; libraries of the general and State governments; libraries of historical societies; and upon “catalogues and cataloguing,” are crammed with useful and important information; and whatever may have been the sins of omission or commission that may be laid at the door of the “Department of the Interior at Washington,” we are willing to bear witness that its Bureau of Education, in the preparation and publication of this report, has done much to atone for them.
ELEMENTS OF GEOMETRY. By G. M. Searle, C.S.P. With an Appendix containing Problems and Additional Propositions. New York: John Wiley & Sons. 1877.
The object of this work is to place geometry on a more perfectly logical basis than it has been usually considered worth while to adopt in text-books. Geometers at the present day generally agree as to the unsatisfactory nature of the axioms usually adopted, some being superfluous, and others, especially the famous one about parallels, not being clearly self-evident.
The reduction in the number of axioms has of course introduced some complexity into the reasoning in this book, and the difficulty about parallels is not completely removed; nor does the author pretend completely to remove it. Some new views, however, are presented which may be worthy of consideration.
ELEMENTS OF ECCLESIASTICAL LAW. Adapted especially to the Discipline of the Church in the United States. By Rev. S. B. Smith, D.D., formerly Professor of Canon Law, author of “Notes,” etc., etc. New York, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and Einsiedeln: Benziger Brothers, Printers to the Holy Apostolic See. 1877.
This work of Dr. Smith’s cannot fail to be a welcome addition to any theological library. There are a great many works on canon law, it is true, but very few which give much information on the discipline of the church here, which is what priests in this country and those who are preparing for the priesthood principally need to understand.
The present volume goes far to supply this deficiency, and the author promises to supplement it soon by another, for which we shall look with interest. He has made a good choice in writing in English; there seems to be no need of choosing Latin for a book on this subject, and intended for this nation chiefly.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected.
Typographical errors were silently corrected.
Spelling and hyphenation were made consistent when a predominant form was found in this book; otherwise it was not changed.
Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).